#But oh how their tone changed when you save the world
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kafkaeya · 3 days ago
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chained - part three
character: wriothesley
request: Wriothesley x Prisoner reader 😏This kind of enemies or poles opposing each other, but in secret they love each other but do not dare to confess because of their pride or status, I like to imagine the tense and charged atmosphere they make together.
tw: restraints (reader is chained in solitary confinement)
an: final part! (more of an epilogue tbh im sorry)
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“you’ve been… quiet,” wriothesley said, breaking a heavy silence that had fallen over the two of you upon your return to his office. his tone was light, but his gaze suggested otherwise.
“i’m fine,” you replied softly.
“it’s funny how things turn out, isn’t it?” he smirked, rising to his full height – now towering over you as you remained seated.
choosing not to probe him for further insight, you merely nodded and stood up yourself.
wriothesley approached you, taking in the sight of you for the first time since capturing the smugglers. “your neck… the bleeding stopped. good.”
you placed a finger to the sharp sting of the cut, before echoing, “good.”
a, for once, comfortable silence fell.
“you didn’t have to help me…” you continued. “you could have just let them do what they want.”
“no,” wriothesley stated, as if it were obvious. “i couldn’t.”
his hand brushed against your arm, with hesitance – as if unsure. regardless, it made your breath hitch and a slight blush hit your cheeks.
“tell me to stop…” he said softly, his voice low, like silk, dangerous, “and i will.”
you couldn’t bring yourself to speak.
the hesitation lingered for only a moment longer before his lips found yours, firm, unyielding, tempted by yours. it was not a gentle kiss in the slightest, rather it was like the dam in his mind had shattered and released everything he had ever kept to himself. before you could think, your hands were fisting the front of his coat, pulling him closer to you.
the world around you faded, the circumstances, the smugglers, the stone-cold walls surrounding you. it was just you, and him, and the heat forming between the two of you.
when he pulled away, he leant his forehead against yours.
“you’re still… infuriating,” you panted.
“oh i know, pup.”
one of your fists tightened; he chuckled.
despite the hollowness the words felt in your throat, you still uttered that, “this changes nothing”.
“no,” he agreed. “it doesn’t.”
but, oh, it did. it changed… everything.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
“you don’t trust me to find my way back to my own cell?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder as wriothesley followed you.
“i trust you,” he retorted, “but that doesn’t mean you’re walking alone.”
you stopped mid-step, turning to face him. the corridor, save for the two of you, was empty, the moonlight filtering through the narrow windows of the fortress, and falling onto wriothesley’s face – illuminating his already-piercing eyes.
“you’re impossible.”
“i know.”
in that moment, you reached for him – not a care in the world as to who could see – and pulled him down into a kiss that was more akin to a collision: messy, desperate. his hands fixated on your waist, steadying you.
“you’re…” wriothesley spoke between kisses. “infuriating too.”
“i know,” you mimicked him.
“we should keep walking.”
you fell into a comfortable rhythm until you reached your cell, the four walls waiting – a reminder of the reality you faced.
wriothesley unlocked the door, but instead of immediately opening it as per usual, he turned to face you.
“goodnight.”
your eyebrows furrowed. “affection doesn’t suit you.”
“suit yourself.”
he practically shoved you inside your cell, locking the door behind you.
you laughed, turning around to face him. “goodnight, duke.”
the lock clicked into place.
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pokemonfrommemory · 1 month ago
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Got that bratty kid energy
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luveline · 9 months ago
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Hi honey! I hope you’re taking care of yourself ❤️ I love love LOVE how you write! Can I please request bombshell reader x Spencer telling the team she’s pregnant 💕
thank you for requesting! <3 fem, 2k
“Spencer?” 
Your quiet tone has his attention faster than any shouting would’ve; he expects high energy from you, and your murmur scares him half to death. He backtracks from the bathroom with his toothbrush still in his mouth, toothpaste dripping down his fingers as he yanks it out and asks, “What?” 
“Is this okay?” 
You chew your lip and turn to the side, illuminating your problem with a hand framed under your tummy. Your skin peeks out from the bottom of your shirt. 
The wonder of you is that you’ve always been beautiful, always, in Spencer’s eyes at least if not the entire world’s, because of how you present yourself, and of course because of your big heart. Your smile, the way you talk, all of it is beautiful and, most of the time, measured. Your clothes are carefully picked, and now you’re changing and your clothes need to change with it —your bump has appeared faster than Spencer realised it would, and you haven’t had time to upgrade your wardrobe. The cases are endless and you’d been more interested in doctor’s appointments and house viewings than clothes shopping.  
“What’s wrong?” he asks, perhaps a bit useless, white frothy paste sliding down his chin. 
You smile momentarily, nervous on your feet as you adjust your shirt. “I think I look very pregnant.” 
Spencer goes back into the bathroom to finish brushing.  “You look mildly pregnant,” he agrees loudly over the rush faucet. He spits, wipes his face, and rinses his toothbrush. 
“Compared to my usual non-pregnant look, I mean,” you say. 
“It’s just that shirt’s a little tight,” he promises. “We’ll find something.” 
You probably aren’t going to find something, you both realise. You stand in front of him in one of your soft bralettes, the ‘S’ of your pendant on your rising chest, shirtless and likely to stay that way. “Oh,” he says, tapping your bump gently with his knuckle. “Maybe it got bigger overnight.” 
“I think so,” you agree, taking his hand where it hovers to press to the top of the slope of the bump. You’re holding his hand more than you’re protecting the bump, a perplexed frown on your lips as you kneed his fingers in yours. 
“We don’t have time to go to the store, but we could be late,” he says. 
“What if we have a case?” 
“That’s a better reason to go shopping.” 
You pout for a kiss, leaning up to press your lips to his wry smile. “No. Do you still have that maroon sweater? The one that didn’t fit you right, with the v-neck?” 
Spencer helps you into said sweater though you don’t need his assistance, smoothing down the wrinkles carefully. It hides the too-short hem of your white shirt underneath, and paired with the collar, Spencer couldn’t be more in love with you. “You’re dressed like me five years ago,” he says. 
“Like it?” you flirt, your cheeks apples with your smug smile, your hands under your chin.
“You really are glowing.” 
“Don’t tempt me into kissing you stupid,” you say, still flirting, voice dipping into that warm, sweet place that probably caused the bump between you in the first place. 
“You’re lucky I don’t kiss you stupid,” he jokes, putting an arm around you for a quick hug. “Too bad we need to work to save to buy a stupid house instead.” 
“Have a stupid baby,” you mumble happily, your face pressed to his chest. He kisses your cheek. 
You’re both in incredible moods when you finally make it to work, tethered together from the parking lot to the elevator to the BAU office. There’s been a lot more hand holding since you found out you were pregnant, though you’re trying to keep it private just a little bit longer. Hotch gets antsy about pregnant people in the field (though he’d never force you to stay home), and the others can tend to be overbearing. 
You are excited to tell them. Spencer’s your family, the team is as good as, and they’ll all be so, so happy for you. At first you’d been waiting for the twelve week milestone for practicality’s sake, but now you’re just waiting for the right time. 
“Clothes get lost in the move?” Morgan asks. 
You aren’t telling them about the pregnancy, but you’re honest about other things. They know you’ve moved in with Spencer, and that you’re looking for a house. Morgan would’ve been offended if you hadn’t told him. He’d offered up a bunch of his properties to you both for viewing and promised a very good family and friends price point, but they hadn’t been perfect enough. It’s just a starter house, he’d argued, mostly unoffended at your pickiness. 
He doesn’t realise that you and Spencer wanna raise a baby, and you want as perfect a home as possible for at least the toddler years before you start looking to move up the ladder. A family home. 
“Very funny,” you praise, letting Spencer pull back your chair for you as you sit down. You feel the new extra roundness of your bump and wonder why nobody else has noticed it either. Spencer certainly can’t stop looking at it. You catch him all the time, and at night, alone and in bed, you let him run his hand up and down the hill of it, clearly amazed. 
“It looks good on you, mama,” Morgan says. 
You laugh. “Doesn’t everything?” you ask with an exaggerated smirk. 
“Yes,” Spencer says. 
You dip your head back in your chair. “This is why I love you.” 
“Devotion,” Spencer guesses, wiping at a smudge of makeup under your eye tenderly. 
You put your hand on your stomach. It’s weird how things change and don’t at the same time. You feel like you love him so much more now you’re a family with him, but you loved him endlessly before. Moments like this were plentiful and warm as sunshine, the undulating care in his touch a practised exercise at this point. You let your eyes close. He strokes your cheek. 
“Hotch wants everyone in the conference room,” JJ says, announcing herself and her towering cup of coffee as she breezes past the bullpen. 
You follow her upstairs to the conference room. Rossi, Hotch and Penelope are already waiting, everyone accompanied by their own creature comfort (coffee, coffee, and tea, respectfully). You and Spencer take seats opposite Hotch and Rossi, hands held together as always, his left in your right, his thumb kind against your knuckles. 
“The jet is still pre-loading from last time, so we can’t leave until late tonight, but we will be leaving,” Hotch begins, nodding at Penelope. “Until then, we’ll work the case from here.”
She nods back and clicks onto some severely disgusting photographs. 
You work through the facts together. Emily arrives late with apologies soon forgiven, your team a well-oiled machine. Of course, without being there, there’s only so much you can do, but it’s never not useful to have these discussions and to spitball with one another. 
Spencer gets stuck in his head. You fight the urge to kiss his cheek as he’d kissed yours this morning and decide on a more work appropriate show of affection, popping down to the kitchenette to make him a cup of coffee. 
You aren’t drinking coffee or anything caffeinated for the baby. You aren’t thirsty, but Spencer will worry if you don’t make yourself a drink too. You fill a glass with water from the sink and make your way back up the steps to the conference room. 
“It looks like there’s a racial motivation,” Spencer’s saying to Morgan. 
“Sure, but with only two victims so far, it could be coincidence,” Emily says. 
“Or not,” JJ says with a frown. 
“I think our killer would show it more, if it were,” you suggest, “there’s usually some aspect of overkill with hate crimes we aren’t seeing here.” 
You put the cup of coffee down in front of Spencer and sit in your chair. The sleeves on his sweater are too long. You push them up for the tenth time. 
“That’s Spencer’s?” Emily asks, having noticed your struggle.
“Oh, yeah. I’ve been sort of scatterbrained, I forgot to put a load in the dryer.” 
“Is your go bag ready?” Hotch asks. 
No. “Yeah, it’s fine. You don’t like my new look?” 
“I’ve never known you to wear clothes that don’t fit,” Morgan says.
“What are you trying to say, Derek?” you ask, propping your face in your chin. 
“You’re getting sloppy in your old age.” 
You turn to Spencer, beaming, and he shakes his head at you immediately. 
“And what’s with the water?”
Your smiling turns deer-in-the-headlights. “What?” 
“You don’t drink coffee anymore?” Morgan prompts. 
That piques the interest of Emily and Hotch simultaneously, but you know you’re caught when realisation colours JJ’s gaze. She stares straight at your glass, then your face. You can practically see her profiling your behaviour these last few weeks, the sudden trips to the bathroom, the worse than usual reluctance to be away from Spencer, and the sudden propensity for safer practice in the field. 
You smile. You’re caught. You see Hotch’s expression and know he knows it, too. 
You give Spencer a little nudge with your thigh, as though telling him, You say it. You know he wants to. 
“You can’t have more than three hundred milligrams of caffeine when you’re pregnant,” Spencer says, his pride unmissable in the slight lift of his chin, “it disrupts midterm foetal growth. Our baby might come out too small, which isn’t what we want, obviously, so she can’t drink coffee. Not for another six months, at least.” 
“Wha– wha– what?” Penelope asks, the physical manifestation of a kettle about to boil over, excitement bubbling and raring to explode as she grips the table. “You’re pregnant?” 
“With Spencer?” Emily asks, though she’s laughing before she’s finished. 
You frame his cheek with one hand and lean in to kiss it gently. “Who else?” you ask. 
The best part is watching everybody hug Spencer. You’re happy they love you and you accept their congratulations and their love with pleasure, but seeing a room full of people thrilled for him finally getting the life he’s wanted, and knowing you’re at least part of the reason, is pretty sweet. You put your hand on your baby bump and take a mental picture of him under Morgan’s arm, his cheeks pink, his smile achingly wide. 
Still, he cuts through his moment to reach for you. “Maybe someone else will be able to convince you to slow down,” he says, hand moving to your stomach protectively. 
You pretend to think it over. “Maybe in a month or two.” 
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xvysarene · 2 months ago
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𝔾𝕠𝕠𝕕 𝔻𝕖𝕖𝕕
Pairing: Sylus x Fem!Reader Prompt: “You’re pretty good at running away.” Words: ~2.8k Genre: Eventual fluff A/N: In a writing slump and kinda dislike how this one turns out but oh wells
[ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST]
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“Marry me,” you had said.
Those two words—whether they were your saving grace or the beginning of your damnation, you weren’t sure.
Then, he surprised you when he said, “Okay.”
Nothing more and nothing less.
It almost felt like he had anticipated your arrival, barreling your way into the base upon learning of your father’s, one of Onychinus’s highest-ranking partners’, demise.
Seeing your stupefied expression, he nonchalantly shrugged. “It’s a practical solution to an unfortunate situation.”
That wasn’t your first time meeting Sylus, and you’d be far too naïve to think he would ever do anything for free. Every favour, every exchange, came with an unspoken contract—an inevitable quid pro quo.
But it was a choice between marrying him or being eaten alive in the N109 Zone.
“Although, I must ask—have you truly thought this through?” Sylus inquired, his gaze sharp.
There was a reason why you chose to move to Goldwood City once you had the chance; far away from the lawless land to start anew, free from the shadow of your father’s association.
As if the death of your mother caused by his recklessness years ago wasn’t enough, the old man had to pull you back into the very world you had succeeded to leave behind.
Staying away was a luxury you no longer had with your old man’s enemies haunting you.
Head held high, you met his gaze directly. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t sure of my choice.”
Oh, little did you know, that your return to the N109 Zone as Onychinus’s leader’s wife, would mean putting your heart on the line as well.
Perhaps it all started that one evening, when a nightmare jolted you awake, haunting you with the vision of your mother’s lifeless eyes and being captured by the people your father had entangled himself with.
Without even realising it, you were already standing at Sylus’s doorway. 
“Why?” he questioned when you asked if you could stay the night in his. “Something wrong with your room?”
Indeed, he offered you your own space even though you were legally husband and wife now. It had been a relief at first, a perfect arrangement, until the nightmares escalated.
“It just feels too quiet tonight,” you lied, unready to fully bare your soul.
Sylus finally looked up from the papers he’d been reading, one eyebrow arched. “Not used to being alone at night back in Goldwood?”
Your face flushed at the implication. Just as you opened your mouth to deny it, something in his expression shifted.
It was so fleeting and subtle that you weren’t even sure if you had imagined it.
He raised a hand, halting your reply. “Actually, never mind about it.”
When he simply returned to his papers, offering no clear sign of whether you were welcome, you frowned.
You were about to take your bruised pride back to your room when you heard him let out a resigned sigh. “Are you coming or no? You’re letting the draft in,” he said, pulling back the duvet on the vacant side, inviting you to settle in.
His acceptance was surprising, but you quickly climbed into bed before he could change his mind, feeling a surge of relief and security with him close by.
If you were too close for comfort, he didn’t mention it.
Sylus was so warm that you shuddered from the sudden temperature change. The base, with its perpetual chill, was a stark contrast to his body heat.
“What are you reading?”
“Mundane proposals,” he muttered, tone laced with boredom as his eyes skimmed the pages in front of him.
With your interest piqued, you scooted even closer, your hair slightly brushing his arm. “Anything I should know about?”
When you told him that you wouldn’t settle for being a trophy wife, he offered you an administrative position in Onychinus, which you happily accepted.
“I feel that these are better off in the trash.”
A small chuckle escaped you, drawing Sylus’s attention. He cast a glance downward, amused by your reaction.
That somewhat prompted him to give a brief outline of the proposal, perhaps to get him through it too. And he was right, it was so dull that you felt your eyes fluttering closed, lulled by the deep timbre of his voice.
“—heard that the twins take good care of you.”
“Hm?” You peeked one of your eyes open, though it was futile as it soon closed again.
Whenever he was away, Luke or Kieran—often both—were always by your side, becoming more than just your guards; they were your mentors, teaching you the complexities of Onychinus’s operations, and they were slowly becoming your…
Friends. A foreign term to you.
Friendship had never been something you could afford, not with the constant paranoia of trusting the wrong person, no thanks to your father.
In your drowsy state, you remembered mumbling, “I feel at ease when I’m with them.”
“At ease, huh? That’s a rare concept around here.” Sylus’s voice cut through the fog of your drowsiness.
Your mind, still wrapped in the haze of sleep, seemed to speak for itself. “You also make me feel more comfortable than I expected.”
Looking back, you laughed mirthlessly at your own stupidness. Where was that defense mechanism you had sworn was ingrained within you?
You knew better than to allow yourself to be vulnerable, to let someone slip past your guard easily in such a short span of time.
Especially someone like Sylus—a man cloaked in power, whose intentions were always enigmatic.
“You’re pretty good at running away.” The voice, carried by the wind, reached your ears. “Pretty good, but not the best.”
“Here to claim your bargaining tool back?”
His footsteps stopped a few paces away from you. Refusing to meet his gaze, you remained looking ahead. The once vibrant colours of sunset faded into darkness, as if the sky itself mirrored the ache seeping deep inside your soul.
Sylus let out a deep sigh. “How much did you know?”
A few days ago, while you were sorting through Onychinus’s papers, you stumbled upon an old, yellowed document hidden deep on a neglected shelf, seemingly placed there to remain undiscovered.
As you read through the faded ink—an exchange made between your father and Sylus a long time ago, marked with their signs and bloodied fingerprints—it felt as though you heard your old man laughing from his grave, determined to terrorise you even in death.
That bastard had sold you to Sylus, bartering your life for a sliver of power within the N109 Zone.
“Did you have fun watching me pathetically beg you to marry me? Knowing all along that you’ve owned me anyway?”
The memory of his calmness that day burned in the back of your mind. Your intuition was right after all, he had anticipated you coming to him.
And if you were honest with yourself, it wasn't even your father you were so angry with—you’d always known what a monster he was.
No, what burned like a hot iron in your chest was the sense of betrayal, the sting of disappointment aimed squarely at Sylus. 
How could you have been so blind, so gullible to believe that this man could be anything more than another player in your father’s ruthless game?
“I asked you that day if it was what you truly wanted,” he calmly said, “I never forced you to marry me.”
You bristled. He was right, of course.
“But you would make sure that one way or another, you would claim me as your possession, wouldn't you? Even from the moment we first met,” you spat.
It was a few years ago when you were first introduced to Sylus. Your mother had begged you to accompany her to a function, and how could you refuse when the guilt of leaving her in the N109 Zone with your father still weighed heavily on you?
For whatever reason you couldn’t understand, she had refused to move in with you.
The function was a blur of faces and conversations that made your head spin, the air thick with the aroma of expensive cigars and the tang of power.
You felt out of place, an outsider in a world that had once been your cage.
“Darling, I want you to meet someone.” Your mother’s tone was a strange mixture of joy and nervousness. She gently took your arm and guided you through the crowd until you stood before a tall figure, his presence commanding.
“This is Sylus, the leader of Onychinus,” she introduced. “He’s agreed to work with your father on some very important matters.”
You blinked in surprise. Somehow, you expected the leader of the most prominent organisation to be someone closer to your father’s age, but he was only a couple of years older than you.
Sylus’s features were sharp and striking, though it was his eyes that held you captive. They were intense, piercing, as if he could see right through you.
“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Ms. Y/N,” Sylus greeted. He took your hand in his, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your knuckles.
Your mother’s keen eyes noticed the crimson that spread across your cheeks, her lips pursing to contain a smile.
“Oh, Sylus, no need for such formalities,” she said lightly, elbowing you to greet him back.
You tried to compose yourself, but his unexpected charm and the way he looked at you left you flustered. “I—uh, nice to meet you too," you managed to stammer.
“Your mother speaks highly of you,” his low voice sent tingling sensation on your insides.
The soft rustle of grass as Sylus settled beside you made your skin prickle. Stupidly, you still craved his closeness.
The nightmares had ceased when you began staying in his bedroom altogether, finding security in the steady rhythm of his breathing beside you. But since fleeing the base, they returned relentlessly, creeping back each time you managed to get a shut eye.
He stretched out his long legs, the fabric of his jacket brushing against you slightly, his gaze fixed on the distant city lights glimmering on the horizon.
“I didn't want you to find out like this,” he finally said, voice low and measured, as if he had carefully chosen each word.
“Then enlighten me, Sylus, what was your grand plan? To control me? To tame me into the docile wife you always wanted me to be?”
He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a sleek black box, pressing it into your hands. “This will explain better than any of my words.”
Slowly, you opened the latch, revealing a collection of emblems—some new, some tarnished—from various N109 Zone fractions. Resting on top of the seals was a folded envelope, its edges frayed.
Sylus nodded towards it, urging you to read the letter inside. As you unfolded the paper, the familiar handwriting of your mother’s came into view, despite the hurried and uneven scrawl.
What I could not say, his deeds will show. Have faith in him.
“Your mother approached me before the agreement with your father was finalised.” Sylus’s expression was unreadable. “She wanted me to protect you. From your father, and from anyone that might harm you.”
As the dots began to connect inside your spinning head, the realisation dawned. “And that’s why you asked for me in return? Why didn’t you tell me this when I first came to you?”
“Keeping you near would make it easier for me to ensure your safety, at least until I could handle all of your father’s enemies.” He shot you a sideways glance. “Do you think we’d be here now if I had laid it all out for you from the start?”
You both knew that if he had, you would have likely flipped him off and done everything in your power to escape his presence.
The cold metal emblems bit into your palm as you examined them, each one representing what had once been a looming threat. A deep understanding shifted your perspective entirely; this was what Sylus had been occupied with during the days he left you in the care of Luke and Kieran.
He had been thoroughly hunting down your father’s enemies, your nightmare, to ensure that you could finally be free from them.
It wasn’t his incompetence that had kept him from finding you days after your escape. No, he had been securing the final pieces of your freedom.
“What did you ask from my mother then? There must have been something you got, that’s how you grant wishes.”
Sylus gave a soft huff, as if he was on the verge of a chuckle, and shook his head. “Contrary to popular belief, I do grant wishes without expecting anything back.”
Your eyes flicked to him in surprise as he continued, “Nothing. I asked for nothing in return. Your mother earned my respect, and that was enough.”
Everyone understood that dealing with Sylus was a risk, a gamble that could even cost you your life.
Studying him intently, you searched for any trace of deception, but all you discovered was a grave sincerity. His eyes were unnervingly tender when he watched the shock painting your face.
“I’ve kept my promise to your mother. You're a free woman now, free to do whatever you want.” Sylus broke eye contact then, his voice dropping to a near whisper as he added, “We can also get a divorce.”
A divorce.
The word set something unsettling that clawed at your insides, sinking deep into your core, and catching you completely off guard.
For a moment, your mind replayed the way his intense red eyes met yours with kindness, to his touch that held a tenderness that couldn't be faked, and the subtle ways he had shown his care for nearly half a year now.
You hugged your knees tighter, the cold ground beneath you contrasting sharply with the warmth of your memories. “Is that what you want? For us to go separate ways?”
“What I want,” he began slowly, “never matters. This has always been about you. Your choice.”
A second passed, then ten, before you quietly whispered, “What if I choose to stay with you then?”
It was as if a wall had been erected again.
“You are not thinking with your head right now, but with your heart. You trusted me because you saw me as your only lifeline.” His voice was rough, edged with frustration.
“But what if underneath the leader of Onychinus, underneath the man that everyone fears, is the one I want to stay with, the one I feel at ease with? Not because of my father’s shadows nor his enemies.”
Sylus breath hitched, a sudden tension rippling through his frame as he struggled to keep his composure. “You don’t know me.”
His voice carried a warning, attempting to push you away, but you stood your ground.
In that moment, you understood why he often held himself back, creating distance whenever he found himself growing too close.
He was afraid of caring for you beyond what he thought his promise to your mother allowed, struggling to maintain the balance between his feelings and his commitment, fearing that crossing that line would mean violating his duty.
“Then show me.” You moved closer, invading his personal space. “Show me what’s behind all this.”
With resolve burning in your eyes, you cupped his face and leaned in. Your lips sought his, praying you hadn't misread him all this time.
That you wanted the warmth and tenderness you’d glimpsed in fleeting moments to be real and not just a reflection of your own desires.
For a breathless moment, he remained still. Then, something in him seemed to break, a crack in his armour. Strong, corded arms slid around you, pulling you closer until you both tumbled back onto the grass, entwined.
His hand brushed the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as his lips pressed into yours with a ravenous need.
It was a kind of kiss that laid bare the truth, shattered every wall, and left you panting for air.
Your breaths intermingled when you pulled back just enough to look into his eyes. There was a vulnerable openness in there, a look concealed beneath the hardened exterior.
“You never read my mother’s letter, did you?” you suddenly asked him.
Confusion flickered in his eyes, his brows knitting together as he shook his head. With trembling fingers, you retrieved the letter from the box and held it up between you.
The dim light from the horizon cast soft shadows on the small message scribbled on the bottom of the paper.
Sylus’s eyes traced the words, his gaze shifting from the letter to your face as the message slowly registered.
Sylus—remember that you, too, deserve love just as much as she does.
It was as though your mother had not only seen the heart within him, but had also foreseen what he had struggled to admit.
With a gentle touch, your thumb brushed against his cheek, lips featherlight as it brushed against his once more. “Take me home, Sy.”
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⤷ ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST
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akirathedramaqueen · 4 months ago
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Do you think this is the moment he fell in love?
Okie, it's time to shitpost speculate a bit on my favorite moment in the whole show: the end of the Truth Seekers episode.
Do you think this was the first time Blitzø was protected? Taken care of? Saved?
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Just look at how in awe he is, eyes wide open, jaw dropped. I doubt we've ever seen a face like this before or after. Of course, it might also have something to do with seeing Stolas in his true form for the first time. It was eerie and terrifying, but also sublime and exalting. Oddly attractive even, maybe?
This owl demon, with eldritch ancient powers and two dozen legions, was there just for him. Stopped in his tracks of whatever royal deeds he was attending to and came to stand up for Blitzø, to scare the shit out of his... well, fuckbuddy's (or not really?) perpetrators. Stolas watched after him, knew he was in trouble! So he... cared?
I am going to repeat my starting statement - he is not used to being worried about. Here, Moxxie clearly prioritizes Millie (no blame here, it's completely valid!), and helps Blitzø to get up only after the latter sarcastically sneered, "Oh, yeah, thanks, I am fine!"
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And Loona, at least until the Queen Bee episode, which happens later, was very hesitant to show even a grain of affection toward Blitzø. We know she cares, but it's not always enough to just have it in mind and not demonstrate it.
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And here is Stolas, caressing Blitzø, asking if he is alright, calling him 'darling' - another first in their relationship, at least on screen. Look how confused he is for a moment; he looks away and up (defensive? scared? annoyed?) - has he ever been asked things like that before? Notice how his face relaxes after Stolas strokes his forehead. Our guy is tough, no doubt, but I bet he just realized how nice it is when there's someone who cares.
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Hell knows, these five seconds are a single thread holding my mental health together after the shitshow in the Full Moon and Apology Tour episodes.
Of course, there's the second part where Stolas tones down the grandiosity of his gesture. He scolds the crew for not being careful and jeopardizing him along with them, implying that the book exchange should remain a secret. Then he negates it himself - luckily for them, demon-obsessed lunatics are not taken seriously in the human world.
I don't think this changes anything. The first thing he did was to ask if Blitzø is okay. Only after he was reassured Blitzø is fine did he begin to rant, and even then his concern addressed both the crew letting themselves into trouble and his own safety. Again, why wouldn't it be valid? However I look at it, I don't think the book is his primary interest here.
And is this the first time we see Blitzø blushing?
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This blush! I bet my life that Mister Blitzø 'boring-as-fuck-monogamy' Buckzo hasn't even internalized it yet, but oh, did his heart just do a big somersault.
Listen to my voice: This is the moment he fell, even though he didn't know it himself yet. Poor boy has a lot of work to do to unlearn his coping mechanisms and let his walls down.
Thank you for coming to my sappy stand-up, don't forget your coats on your way out. *drops mic*
P.S. Oh, I lied to you. There's a bonus "Blitzø just fell so hard" face in the Seeing Stars episode, haha. Apparently Stolas's human form is just as hot as his true demonic one lol.
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muletia · 12 days ago
Text
[tfp] obsessed!optimus prime x human!reader
summary: you had to go on a business trip. optimus doesn't take it too well
cw: obsessed!optimus, hardcore pinning, angst, i wanted to practice writing dialogues and it shows lmao
word count: 1800
an: i want you guys to know that i am reading EVERY reblog and comment from you swirling my hair and kicking my legs like a schoolgirl
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you are so real for that anon
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When you, out of your own free will, expressed the desire to join him on patrol, Optimus was overjoyed. You rarely got the chance to be together, just the two of you, always consumed by work or saving the world. And although Optimus wouldn’t dare ask you outright to accompany him on patrols (because the last thing he wanted was to make you feel uncomfortable), he deeply longed to spend more time with you alone. He knew he was feeding only his own illusions, fueling the machinery of madness, but by this point, he couldn’t stop. Not when you sat comfortably on his seat, gazing at the views outside the window, visibly content with your outing together.
He wanted so badly for this to be your everyday reality. Maybe then he could finally find some relief from his fixation, maybe you would even save him.
"Hey," you started, and his entire attention focused on you. "Actually, I’ve been meaning to tell you this for a while."
Oh.
Did your feelings match his? Did you feel affection for him as well? Had you noticed his suffering? Or maybe you wanted to reject him, once and for all, to make him understand that his passion was an illusion, that no matter how much he wanted it, the two of you could never be together — too incompatible, too different. That he had developed this coping mechanism, exhausted by the war.
But before Optimus could spiral further, you crushed his hopes.
"The company I work for is sending me on a business trip," you sighed, clearly dissatisfied with the news. "It’s supposed to take two weeks, but you never really know with these trips, especially since they’re sending me across the continent."
"I understand," he replied, his tone not betraying the turmoil within. "What does this business trip involve?"
"Oh, shoot, sorry! I should have explained that right away," you laughed casually as if you hadn’t just delivered news that shattered his spark. "Business trip is assigned by an employer for training sessions, conferences, exhibitions, and other boring stuff. Kind of like a mission, but without explosions, action, or danger."
It was good to hear that you’d be safe, though you would truly be safest only at the base, under his watchful optics.
Pessimistic, ugly thoughts churned in his processor. Of all the things he expected to hear from you, this wasn’t one of them. Suddenly, he feared being alone, feared his own dreams. Because he knew you wouldn’t be there to comfort him after a nightmare, and nothing else could bring him peace.
"I am sorry to hear we will not see each other for two weeks," he said, "but I am confident you will do exceptionally well on this assignment. You are dependable, unyielding. You can handle anything."
"Oh, thank you," you answered, a bit flustered. You hadn’t expected a compliment. "It just makes me sad to leave Jasper. I don’t say it often enough, but I have a wonderful time with all of you. With you."
"Likewise, [Name]. When are you leaving?"
"The day after tomorrow. Tomorrow after work, I’ll say goodbye to everyone else."
So soon. Too soon. He’d hoped you wouldn’t leave until next week, to at least give him time to mentally prepare for the separation, but you denied him that luxury. Not that any amount of time would have prepared him for this.
Slowly, subtly enough that you wouldn’t notice the change, he reduced his speed, prolonging your shared drive.
"I’m not sure I’ll have time to write," you warned. "Unfortunately, they’ve given me a really tight schedule. But! If I can, I’ll write to the kids. Oh, and expect some souvenirs — I’ll bring something back for you all."
"You do not need to spend your valuable time searching for trinkets. But if you insist, I will cherish anything you bring me."
"Aw, don’t worry—it’ll be no trouble." You waved your hand dismissively. "You do so much for me, for the kids, for the whole Earth without asking for anything in return. You deserve something nice."
"I do not protect your planet for glory or offerings."
"I know, I know. That’s very noble. And amazing. So many years, sticking firmly to your values."
He eagerly soaked up your praise, allowing himself, if only for a brief moment, to forget the world around him, to forget his duties, unfulfilled promises, fallen brothers and sisters. He’d never describe himself as 'amazing', nor did he believe the praise his own kind gave him about his greatness. But for you, he could believe it. If only for a moment, a few seconds, so that you’d leave on your mission thinking warmly of your time together and of him.
"Thank you, [Name]. Please know that I value your words tremendously."
"Oh," you blushed, "that’s nice to hear."
Embarrassed, you quickly changed the subject, unaware that Optimus was watching you closely, curious about your reaction. For now, he pushed thoughts of your departure to the back of his processor, wanting to fully enjoy your presence. You recommended songs from the country genre, one of his favorite discoveries on Earth, which he promised to listen to later. He knew well that this would lead to more daydreaming, imagining a future that would never be. Because no matter how hard he tried, his tomorrow would not be entwined with yours. His desires would forever remain mere fantasies born out of desperation, longing, and sorrow.
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A week had passed since you left. In the lives of the Autobots, not much had changed because of your absence; they went on with their chaotic schedule. The kids, however, missed you. No more evenings spent helping them with their homework, working on your reports, playing games, or simply chatting. The worst part was that no one really knew what was going on with you. You rarely messaged, didn’t have time to talk, and when you did, it was just to say, "I’m alive, it’s boring, I’ll message you on Thursday." Life continued, despite how much Miko wished she could play games with you instead of doing her homework.
Everyone managed to adapt to your absence.
With one exception.
At first glance, it seemed like Optimus, the bot with whom you shared the closest bond, hadn’t been affected by such a drastic change. Nothing in his behavior indicated any longing. He didn’t express his opinion on the matter, didn’t ask, didn’t demand. As always, he buried his feelings deep within, playing the role of a diligent leader, hiding from everyone the nightmares running through his processor, now even more intense because of your absence.
He was withering, quietly and alone.
Until now, he had been content simply watching you. He had established a routine, unhealthy as it was, that kept him going. He knew that most of the time when he returned from patrol or a mission, you would be at the base. Even if you came every other or every third day, Optimus knew that eventually, you would show up. It gave him a sense of stability amidst the chaos surrounding him. But now? Maybe two weeks wasn’t a big challenge for you, but he was done after one.
Now, he wanted to be more than a passive observer. He craved physical contact, to hold you close, to feel your heartbeat against his metal. He wanted to know you were alive, to feel your pulse under his digit, to listen to its rhythm, to understand how your chest moved against his metal. He wanted to feel, taste, touch, enter.
He kept glancing at the spot on the couch where you usually sat with your laptop on your lap or spent time with the kids as if hoping that if he looked just one more time, you would materialize there. That everything would return to normal, that he wouldn’t suffer so much, that you would give him the daily dose of antidote he needed to function without plunging deeper into despair. But no matter how many times he looked, you weren’t there, and wouldn’t be for another week.
At some point, however, someone noticed their leader’s miserable mood.
"I can’t quite figure out what kind of bond you have with that woman," Ratchet said, pausing his work to look at Optimus. Before his friend could answer, he continued, "But she’ll be back soon. And whatever she’s doing, she’ll do it well. She’s tough."
"Thank you, old friend. I have no doubt in her abilities. But I would feel better if she were stationed closer to the base in case of a Decepticon attack."
"Mm-hmm," the medic scoffed. "Sure, that’s all it’s about."
Optimus had no response to that. He wasn’t surprised that Ratchet noticed his infatuation, but he would prefer that his friend not delve into the details of their relationship. At least, not yet. Not while Optimus himself was a wreck.
"Hey, hey! [Name] messaged!" Miko yelled.
The Autobot leader immediately approached the platform, finally abandoning his conversation with Ratchet, aware that it would only spark more suspicions. But he didn’t care anymore, not in such an important moment.
He stood directly behind Miko, with Bumblebee and Bulkhead beside him, equally curious to know what you had been up to over the past week.
"She sent photos, too! Look!"
Miko turned to show the messages to the others but paused when she noticed Optimus’s helm close to her.
“Whoa,” she whispered, surprised that out of all the bots, he was the one standing the closest. She swallowed, but her confidence quickly returned.
Holding her phone firmly, she displayed a close-up selfie of you. You were smiling, though the bags under your eyes betrayed that you were sleep-deprived, probably exhausted.
Optimus felt the accumulated stress, pain, and longing of the past week slowly dissipate. Everything was fine with you. You were alive, pushing forward with a smile on your face, happy to simply exist. Admiring your photo didn’t compare to seeing you in person, but it let him vent a little easier, granting him a brief respite from worry, gnawing at him from within. It was enough. For now. For a moment.
“She sends her regards to everyone,” Miko went on, “Oh, and she also asked Ratchet to take a break and mentioned she already bought a gift for Optimus and can’t wait to come back. Hey, I want a present, too!”
Optimus couldn't be certain if another week apart wouldn’t inflict even more damage on his processor and spark, or if longing would eventually consume him entirely. But he knew he was already lost, that you held sway over every aspect of his life. He was wrapped around your finger, tethered by a leash you didn’t even realize existed. And he didn’t mind one bit.
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writerpeach · 1 year ago
Text
Overindulgent
IVE Jang Wonyoung x m!reader
14k+ words
---
Read on AFF
Read on AO3
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“Chocolate or strawberry?”
It should have been a simple question to answer.
As simple as naming a favorite color, most people would have no trouble answering without hesitation, based on preference or what one was in the mood for. Milkshakes were the perfect treat, universally loved and the best thing to have on a hot summer day, especially after a grueling two-hour, forgettable class.
But most people weren’t Jang Wonyoung. “Two flavors? That’s all?”
Around her, nothing would ever be simple. If you asked her to name two numbers, she would find some justification to add a third.
“Sorry, princess,” you said with obvious mockery in your tone. “That’s all there is. But you can add toppings.”
“If one of those toppings isn’t mint, then I don’t---ugh, fine. Strawberry.”
Wonyoung audibly sighed when she grabbed her pink milkshake, sitting down at one of the white leather booths in the farthest possible corner from everything as could be.
She looked unsatisfied even before her first sip, and lifelessly stirred the creamy concoction, hoping to somehow conjure up something more appealing. Wonyoung had very specific tastes, and didn’t particularly care for stepping out of her comfort zone.
Watching for her reaction, Wonyoung made a loud slurp through her long red straw set amidst a sea of sugar. “How is it?”
“It’s too sweet.”
Of all the possibilities in the world, nothing prepared you for that one.
“It’s a milkshake…” you said with a furrowed brow.
Yujin introduced you to this particular place. Two straws, one big chocolate milkshake, and an elated look of bliss on her face later, and she was slurping it down until nothing but air filled her straw. So it was only natural that you’d invite Wonyoung here with the same expectations. That was your first mistake.
“Well, it’s too sweet.”
Incredible.
Being seated across the booth from Wonyoung felt like you were part of a failed science experiment, because every sip taken came with a different reaction, like she expected her opinion to change. When she wiped bits of whipped cream from her glossy lips, the growing disdain on her face didn’t disappear with it.
Who knew you'd located the sole person in the entire universe who disliked milkshakes? That alone was an achievement worthy of a medal or plaque to proudly display on the fireplace for all to see.
“Here, you finish it,” Wonyoung said, verging on demand as she slid it across the table next to your half-finished chocolate shake.
“But I already have one. And this is plenty,” you replied, taking a long sip, and savoring the sugary bliss to help ease the pain of your astonishment.
“Ugh, fine. Just throw it away. I paid for them both, but I don’t even want to look at it anymore.”
“No---wait. I’ll save it for Yujin. She loves sweet things.”
“Fine. It’s a good thing I brought my car then. Wouldn’t want it to melt. I’ve seen how much she enjoys swallowing creamy thick liquids down her throat…”
Something so uncharacteristic caught you off-guard. Jang Wonyoung was many things: bossy, spoiled, infuriating more times than you could count, but lewd jokes that sprang from nowhere without so much as a smirk? Not what you expected today.
Wonyoung slid out of the booth and made for the exit. You followed behind, both milkshakes in hand, and took turns sipping from each one, enjoying the unique flavors each brought.
“I can’t believe anyone likes those things. They’re just sugar.”
“That’s why everyone likes them. But that would assume our little princess actually knew how to enjoy anything.” That remark caught you in her deadly gaze, but you didn’t hold back the smile on your face, perhaps to your detriment.
“Keep that up and you’re walking home.”
“Oh, come on, princess. We both know you enjoy my company too much. It’s not my fault you can’t take a little joke.”
“Is that so?” Wonyoung entered her black, two-door sports car and closed the door with yet another icy glare. Seconds after, you grabbed the cold metal handle and opened it, to no avail. Without success, you tried again---but the door didn’t budge an inch. Tapping on the window proved as pointless as offering Wonyoung another sip of milkshake.
“Wonyoung---“ Ignoring any attempt you made to grab her attention, she instead revved the engine in succession and avoided your gaze with every stomp on the pedal.
Surely, she wouldn’t---
“Come on, this isn’t funny. Just open the door.” The door handle might as well have been fashioned out of paper and glued on, for as useless as it now was. After trying one last time, Wonyoung cracked open the window just enough to speak.
“It’s not my fault you can’t take a little joke.” That was the last thing you heard before her tires squealed and she sped off without looking back.
…she would.
Guess you were walking off all that ice cream.
You still couldn’t believe it. Wonyoung wasn’t a stranger to your teasing, but never took it so seriously before. On the plus side, at least the ice cream shop wasn’t more than a twenty-minute walk from your place. Well, it wasn’t exactly your place, and you just had the privilege of living in a luxurious high-rise apartment that had Wonyoung and Yujin’s names on the dotted line.
Ten minutes from campus, the loft came fully furnished with an always stocked fridge, a gorgeous pool, spacious bedrooms, and one of the best views you could ask for, while also saving you from the nightmares of dorm life.
Quite contrary to your first year of college spent in a shoe-box sized room, an uncomfortable bed, and a quiet, messy roommate, always there when you needed just a minute to yourself. It taught you a valuable lesson to never underestimate the value of privacy.
Maybe a stroke of luck that at the end of that semester from hell came your first encounter with Yujin. Tucked away in a secluded corner at the library, she recognized you from class and offered to help study. One study session grew into two, which turned into three, then led into several sessions over coffee every week, until you were seeing each other virtually every day.
Over time, the two of you got closer, meeting without the pretense of studying. Then one day, the books got tossed aside, and the only thing being studied was how far Yujin could ram her tongue down your mouth.
You learned early on how difficult it was to say no to Yujin. Whether you were in the middle of the library, taking up spots on the packed couches, the always crowded student center, or right by the administration office, no place was off-limits for an impromptu make-out session. Eventually, those steamy make-out sessions migrated to Yujin’s place, where your first encounter with her younger roommate Wonyoung took place with your pants and underwear around your ankles.
You didn’t know what was more awkward, the act of being caught in the middle of Yujin blowing you on the couch, or that Wonyoung stayed for the entire show. And that was your first lesson about Wonyoung and her voyeuristic tendencies.
The two of them were the best of friends and never strayed far from one another outside of class. But Wonyoung loved to watch your sex-crazed moments with Yujin, insisting that she wouldn’t get in the way or be noticeable. Which, true or not, could never be something you grew used to---the younger of the two sitting silently inches away, lurking like a cat in the shadows when you ate her out on the kitchen counter, while Yujin rode you on the couch, or whatever other outcome that ended with the both of you covered in sweat and panting heavily.
Months later, you were moving in at their behest, which made sense when you spent most of your time there. Any offerings to pay your fair share of rent were denied, as both of your new roommates were very well off with no financial concerns. Nevertheless, your infinite methods of pleasuring Yujin more than made up for it.
So after settling in, (which took some time for you to grow accustomed to waking up surrounded by luxury), you couldn’t be more thankful, not only being freed from the burdens of rent but also from the tortures of dorm living, and the three of you grew inseparable.
Mostly. Because when Wonyoung was in a bad mood, the whole universe knew about it. Making her the butt of jokes was your way of chipping away at that stuck up attitude, but it had never backfired quite spectacularly like this.
As you neared your shared loft, a tremendous sense of relief filled your body, but did little to dissipate the anger that pumped through your veins. Overheated, sweaty, and stuck holding a milkshake that no longer met that definition, the only thing that cooled your temper (quite literally), was the frigid blasts of air-conditioning that hit you when you stepped through the front door.
“Oh, look who it is. Enjoy the sun?” asked Wonyoung when you stepped inside, lying at the end of the L-shaped gray couch. Sporting a smug smile on her face, she folded her arms, and leaned back into the cushions, completely oblivious to the daggers you stared in her direction.
“Daddy, you’re home. Where were you?” Yujin asked as she approached closer, embracing you in her arms, and planted a kiss on your cheek. “You’re all sweaty. And you’re burning up, too.”
“Maybe you should ask her.” With gritted teeth, you stared a hole into the petite woman sprawled out on the couch cushions, face buried in her phone without a single care in the world.
“Wonyoung?”
“Yes, unnie?” she asked, reluctant to look up for even a moment. Too obsessed with her phone, Wonyoung wouldn’t even notice if the house was on fire.
“Weren’t you two together? Why did you make it home first by yourself? And why does daddy look like he just ran a marathon?”
“Hold on, I almost have enough jades for another pull.”
“Jang Wonyoung! Answer me. You’ve already spent enough money on that stupid game.”
“It’s not stupid, you’re just bad at it. Don’t be jealous because I have better characters than you.”
Yujin let out a heavy sigh while a frown formed on her face, torn between scolding Wonyoung or ensuring you were alright.
Meanwhile, you hurried to the refrigerator out of fear of passing out and downed a bottle of water, but left just enough liquid to pour over your head, running your fingers through wet hair to cool yourself off more.
“Daddy, what happened? Why are you so tired?” Yujin asked, entering the kitchen as she turned her attention away from Wonyoung.
“Because this fucking brat ditched me.”
“Listen here, asshole---“ Wonyoung finally sat up from her phone, tossed it aside and clenched her fists, the swelling rage in her eyes overtaking her body.
“Hey, stop that. Both of you,” Yujin said, rapidly losing control of the situation. That sweet voice of hers could soothe an entire forest fire, but here, it held zero sway when your bickering became like two rams butting heads.
“What’s the matter, princess? Your servants haven’t arrived to cook your five star meal and clean your throne?”
“Daddy, that’s enough,” Yujin warned, trying to tug at your arm while making herself a barrier between the two of you.
“I don’t get what you’re upset about. Don’t you love the outdoors? Like when you made me walk in the woods for hours? I told you, I hate bugs.”
“What a shocker, you hate everything! Rain, milkshakes, anything that isn’t you being pampered---“
“Enough!” Yujin said as she slammed her fists on the kitchen counter, making the cabinets shake. “You’re both in university, aren’t you? Or did you suddenly enroll in preschool? Because you’re both acting like children.”
The house grew eerily silent. After getting a second bottle of water, you leaned against the refrigerator and sipped it silently as your body tensed up.
“Wonyoung, I want you to apologize,” Yujin said, lowering her voice as she tried to control the chaos.
“What?” she scoffed, sinking back into the couch as she squeezed her phone tight. “Why? I didn’t do anything.”
Yujin clenched her jaw as she took a deep breath. “Apologize. Now.”
“Of course, you always take sides with him. Just because daddy has a nice cock doesn’t mean you have to agree with everything he says.”
“This isn’t about sides. This is about resolving a situation that I wasn’t there to handle. I want both of you to apologize. You’ve both been living together far too long to have childish arguments like this.”
“Absolutely not. I won’t apologize when I haven’t done anything wrong,” Wonyoung murmured as she stormed towards her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
Yujin rubbed her temple in frustration. “I can’t deal with this right now. I have class in thirty minutes and I haven’t even eaten lunch yet.”
Gathering her things up, Yujin stuffed them into her bag before slinging it over her shoulder. After giving you one last kiss on the forehead, she turned towards the door. “Sorry, daddy. I know it wasn’t your fault. She’s just like this sometimes. She’s still so young, it’s been one of her traits I thought she’d grow out of…”
“It’s fine, Yujin. I’ll let her calm down, then try to talk things out with her. I shouldn’t have pushed so many buttons.”
“Thanks, daddy. Just try not to kill each other while I’m gone, okay?”
“I’ll do my best.”
“That’s all I can ask.” Yujin’s radiating smile put out any last remnants of anger you had, with the door closing a signal of her departure. Seeking refuge on the couch, you plopped down, kicked your shoes off, and relaxed into the pillows, the first chance of relaxation since your alarm went off. If it wasn’t early afternoon and you didn't have any studying to do, you would open one of the more fancy bottles of wine that was calling your name from the kitchen cabinet.
Instead, you opted for something more mundane and grabbed the remote, accepting whatever suggestion the TV app doled out, even if you settled with background noise to help relax.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” Wonyoung repeated louder and shook your shoulder, waking you up from an unexpected, unplanned nap that left you in a haze, unable to even discern what hour it was.
“What?” you sleepily asked, rubbing your eyes while you returned back to consciousness. The lack of proper sleep caught up with you, and the past hour didn’t help one bit.
“Can you turn it down a little? I’m trying to study, and you’re making that difficult.”
Not even fully awake, the last thing you wanted to hear was Wonyoung’s voice, let alone more complaints. It would be effortless to indulge what she asked, but you had no intentions to do anything about the noise. It was the last thing she deserved.
“And your loud voice is making it difficult for me to sleep,” you blurted out, unable to hide your annoyance. “I didn’t know you studied. I thought you just complained and bossed people around.”
Wonyoung maintained her steely gaze, tone calm and collected, a vast difference from before. “You have a bedroom, you know. Upstairs? Ugh, I’m not here to argue. I have a test on Friday that’s twenty percent, which is bullshit. I can’t fail it.”
“Then maybe you should go back to studying,” you said, disregarding her attempts to make eye contact.
“What do you think I’ve been trying to do?” Wonyoung asked, rolling her eyes. “How am I supposed to get any studying done if you keep interrupting with your---whatever the hell this is you’re watching…”
Ignoring her was the only suitable option. You shifted your body sideways with hopes to elude her, only allowing furtive glances while focused on the screen. No matter what, you could still feel her presence looming while doing everything to avoid another heated argument.
Unable to stand still for a moment, Wonyoung interrupted the silence with a huff, a sign of surrender as she joined you on the couch and tucked her long legs underneath her. Grabbing a pillow from behind, she squeezed it, using it as stress relief when pressed against her chest. “You know, sometimes you can be a bit of an ass.”
You found it impossible not to laugh and eventually gave her the attention she didn’t deserve. “I know I didn’t just hear a spoiled little brat tell me what type of person I am.”
“I’m not always the nicest person, I’ll admit that,” Wonyoung muttered, sinking her head back into the pillows. Finally, something you could both agree on. But it still didn’t excuse her earlier actions.
“Is this your way of apologizing?“ you asked, and the way she looked at you resembled like you had just asked her to strip naked in front of you.
“You think I’m going to apologize?”
“No, because I know you’re not capable of ever admitting you were wrong.”
“That’s because I’m never wrong.” Wonyoung took a deep breath and let it out slowly to bring her composure under control. “If you thought I was going to get on my knees and beg for forgiveness, that’s not happening.”
Wonyoung might have had all the money in the world, but it couldn’t buy an apology. “But I’m sure you’re used to getting on your knees.”
Her mouth dropped open, and you almost had an immediate regret for delivering such a low blow---almost. Fueled by anger, Wonyoung flung a pillow at your head, but you dodged it with ease, laughing at what a pathetic throw it was.
“You really are an asshole sometimes.”
Who needed an apology when you could see such a pissed off look on Wonyoung’s pretty face? It was the most irate you had ever seen her, a pure ball of fury; trembling fists, clenched jaw, and a death stare that could cut through diamonds.
“Oh, did I upset the princess again?”
“Stop calling me th---you know what, you’re not worth my time,” Wonyoung breathed out, narrowing her eyes before rising to her feet.
“And that’s your problem, princess.”
“What?” she asked, taking a step forward and balled her fists as she pivoted to confront you, letting you see the rage up close on her features.
“Nobody is worth your time. You don’t care about anything or anyone but yourself, unless it benefits you some shape or fashion.”
“That’s not true, how the fuck would you know what I care about? Just because we’ve lived together for months doesn’t mean you know anything about me.”
“You’ve got a mouth on you princess. That’s not like you.”
“I said don’t call me that!”
“Or what?” Following suit, you stood up, matching her height and then some. “You’ll cry about it? Complain some more?”
Wonyoung didn’t utter a word. Her anger boiled over, and without warning, she smacked you across the face, leaving both a sting and a smile across your face.
“That’s it, princess, let it all out.” Without retaliation, you let her inch forward, backing you up until you were pressed up against the living room wall. Wonyoung was hardly a threat. Her tall, but petite figure wasn’t remotely intimidating, and the closer she got, the more anger you could see in her eyes. Your smile widened as she delivered a harsher slap to your face, but you seized her delicate wrist to prevent a third, until eventually you let go, which provoked her to strike your cheek once again.
Those slaps only had as much power as her anger, with no remorse behind them, and the only reason you didn’t stop her was the see the explosive wrath in her pretty round eyes. The option to defuse the situation existed whenever you deemed it necessary, as simple as either picking her slender body up to toss her on the couch, or escorting her back to her room, whatever made her stop acting like such a pedantic little brat.
But testing Wonyoung’s limited patience became a game to you, until it snapped like the flimsiest of threads, letting her pretend she had the upper hand. The sting on your cheek only encouraged you to toy with her, adding fuel to the fires of rage.
Her little chest heaved as she recovered from the barrage of slaps, heart beating loud enough for you to hear. “Feel better?”
“Not even close.”
“Then hit me again. Come on, princess, Yujin isn’t here to save you. Why don’t you give it your all and make them hurt?”
Upping the agitation by repeatedly pointing at your cheek, you could do this all day. Because, god she made things far too easy.
“No. Like I said, you’re not---worth---it.”
The more she repeated that, the more you doubted it. Because Wonyoung could have backed away, retreated to her bedroom, the kitchen, the pool, literally anywhere else. Yet, she kept her feet planted firmly where she was, face to face so close that you could see your own reflection in her eyes.
And while you were so near, you could map out her perfect features, from her pink glossy lips to her typically bright eyes filled with fury, and everything in between. “You know, you’re pretty when you’re angry.”
The corners of her mouth twitched. Contrary to what you expected, Wonyoung’s intense gaze softened, and her fists relaxed until her breathing began to stabilize. You knew how to strike her weakness, that a simple compliment would douse her red hot rage and stroke her ego, even if she wouldn’t admit it.
“D-don’t even start,” she said, but you could hear how flustered she became, how shaky her voice sounded. Another step and your foreheads would have touched, close enough already that you could smell the berries from her shampoo.
Wonyoung froze as a wave of emotions ran through her. You easily got lost in her lingering gaze, wondering what exactly went on behind those beautiful dark eyes. “That’s what you love, right? Being told how pretty you are?”
“Shut up. I don’t need compliments.”
Oh, but she did. Jang Wonyoung was a terrible liar and loved being showered in compliments almost as much as she loved arguing. You knew that vanity was her weak spot, and you planned to exploit that vulnerability.
“Answer me, princess. Do you like being called pretty?”
“I thought I told you to shut up, didn’t I?”
“What are you going to do if I---“
Before you could finish speaking, Wonyoung shoved you up against the wall and pressed her luscious lips against yours with surprising force. All that rage and resentment transformed into pure, unadulterated lust, which made you forget what you were even mad about in the first place.
The sweet taste of Wonyoung’s soft lips became the only thing that preoccupied your mind, alongside how your tongues danced in each other’s mouth, and how badly you wanted one thing---her.
With all rational thoughts and logic thrown out, you lifted Wonyoung’s petite frame up off the ground, snaked your arms around her tiny little waist and reclaimed control by press-ing her up against the wall. As the kiss kept going, Wonyoung tugged at your hair, trying to get any little advantage she could, but you didn’t let it distract you from exploring the soft curves of her tight body, and moved down to grab her ass, squeezing firmly as the both of you fought to deepen the kiss.
Breaking apart for air, you could see the rosy hues visible on her cheeks, those round eyes no longer filled with fury, but deep desire. And then you dove right back in for round two, lips parted once more, while hands roamed bodies and lips smacked, eager to keep her taste lingering in your mouth. When you kneaded Wonyoung’s ass harder, she moaned in your mouth, and you could feel every little touch making her tight body tremble.
She leaned forward to rest her forehead against yours, breath warm against your face. “God, you’re so annoying. I hate how good of a kisser you are.”
“And you’re such a brat.”
“But you like brats. Isn’t that right, daddy?”
“You don’t get to call me that.”
“Aw, is daddy getting mad again? Wait, where’s Yujin?” Wonyoung had been so caught up in the moment that she hadn’t even realized her closest friend and roommate hadn’t been there in hours.
“She went to class. Should probably be back soon.”
“Class? Yujin doesn’t have classes today.” Wonyoung raised her eyebrow, tilting her head in suspicion. “So that means…”
“She won’t be back for a while,” you said, putting the pieces together. Wonyoung giggled before leaning in once more to steal another kiss. You let her lead for a moment, and ran fingertips up the small of her back, tracing the hot skin while keeping her weight against the wall. Then, while those tiny gasps continued, you moved down her neck, kissing all the exposed skin you could find.
“Ah, that’s good, but---put me down.”
“Why?” Unfazed by the tone of voice, you continued to pepper her skin with kisses, motivated by the breathless moans she kept letting out.
“You really have to ask? Because I’m going to suck your dick, dummy.”
That sudden shift of mood could only make you grin from ear to ear. Clearly, Yujin must have been rubbing off on her, because something so blatant wasn’t like Wonyoung.
“You’re so demanding,” you said, taking one more chance to kiss and suck at her delicate neck. Biting lightly, that elicited another moan from her as her head fell back against the wall, long raven locks flowing down her shoulders.
“Do you want my mouth on your cock or not?”
“Did I say no, you fucking brat?” Pulling Wonyoung away from the wall, you set her back down in what wouldn’t fit any definition of gentle. Before you knew it, she dropped to her knees in front of you, and her hands began sliding up and down the legs of your pants.
Wonyoung looked nothing but eager on her knees as she bit on her bottom lip, and stared up through bright eyes that held lust, with her fluffy cheeks turning a lighter shade of pink. Before she did anything else, you tugged one strap of her dress as her eyes stayed stubbornly locked on yours. “Take this off first, princess.”
You weren’t so sure how compliant Wonyoung would be. The expectation would be not at all, but then she passed that first test, lowered each strap down her bare shoulders, and furled her dress down to her waist without breaking eye contact, which left her cute chest adorned by nothing but a candy pink bra.
In all of your time living together, you never saw that much of her creamy skin, usually covered up. That flat tummy, slender waist, and those small, perky tits only made you crave more, but you couldn’t let greed dictate your actions---at least not yet.
“Cute bra.”
“Thanks. But that’s all you get for now. Daddy.” The more Wonyoung used that word to annoy you, the more it seemed to fit, like it rolled off her tongue involuntarily and became less and less mocking with each usage.
Things moved too fast to comprehend. Moments ago, you were at each other’s throats, with your relationship being threatened. And now, Wonyoung proudly stayed on her knees, fingers playing with your zipper with a look of submission that promised something unforgettable. While she tugged your pants down, you saved time by discarding your shirt, smiling at how Wonyoung couldn’t take her eyes off your freshly exposed chest, palming your crotch while practically drooling over your body.
“You’re staring, princess.”
"Oh, I know," she replied, grazing your abdomen with her fingertips before kissing where she had been studying your torso, the softness of her lips on bare skin making your breath hitch. Her mouth left a trail of hot kisses along your stomach, and then licked a stripe up the crotch of your boxers just to make you twitch, building up more anticipation.
“You have such a nice body. I see why Yujin likes you so much.”
“Dashing good looks, charming personality, a high GPA, about two dozen other reasons…”
Wonyoung rolled her eyes and slipped her fingers into the waistband of your underwear, testing your patience, and didn’t dare let her eye contact drop. “Your dick is really hard, daddy. It looks so big, I can’t wait to see what Yujin has been keeping to herself.”
A quick tug later, and you were the first one naked in the open, standing in a heap of discarded clothes while your cock ached for attention. Wonyoung’s pretty eyes widened at the reveal of your cock, and she felt your erection spring to life the instant she grabbed it, forming a tight fist with all of her long, veiny fingers.
“Your dick feels so nice, daddy. You’re like, really hard. It’s like a fucking rock,” Wonyoung giggled when she stroked your length, running her icy hands across your swelling shaft, which instantly caused a bundle of soft moans at her touch. With her watching the spiraling pleasure in your eyes, every little stroke made you twitch between her nimble fingers, distracting you from anything else while she both pumped your shaft and gently caressed your balls.
“Fuck, you’re so huge. Look how small my hands look when I stroke your cock…” The way she said almost sounded like a whine, which given the source, wasn’t unexpected. As Wonyoung spent more time introducing herself to your cock, she planted a chaste kiss on your cockhead, earning herself another groan at your expense.
“I can’t believe you’ve both been hiding this dick from me.”
Wonyoung admired every aspect of your throbbing shaft, cupping your balls with her free hand while she kept a firm grip on whatever could fit in between her fingers. She tightened that grip and began to explore your length with her hungry tongue, mapping out your erection from base to tip just enough to get your cock wet, then took needy little licks against your swollen tip, claiming any drops that leaked from your slit.
“Such a beautiful cock. And now it’s all mine.’’ Then, without warning, Wonyoung parted her sultry, inviting lips, bringing your shaft into the warmth of her awaiting mouth and sealed them tight around your aching cock.
“Princess---“ you managed to groan out, toes curling into the rug underneath. The biggest spike of pleasure came when those glossy lips sealed around your cockhead, making your head tilt back in ecstasy as her warm, impatient mouth went to work. That lust-filled gaze kept you trapped as she sucked you off with her impossibly soft lips, slowly at first, drawing out every groan before bobbing her head faster, and focused on every reaction you made while her cheeks hollowed.
When Wonyoung felt your hips beginning to buck, she pulled you even further inside her throat, and her tongue began to playfully tease the underside of your shaft, driving you further down the edge of insanity. “Princess, my god---that feels incredible.”
“Of course it does. You’d think I’d ever be bad at something?” Wonyoung chuckled, flashing a confident smile as she painted your length with her tongue, then traced the veins of your shaft while enjoying the way you let out short gasps when she found your favorite spot. She flicked against it several times until returning you to her mouth, and you desperately tried to stop yourself from pushing into her throat---a losing battle before it started.
“You look so pretty sucking my dick, princess. That mouth feels---so---fucking---good,“ you groaned, and praise only had its benefits as Wonyoung reached for your balls once more, fondling them with the gentlest of touches and teased them with her slender fingers. Within moments, she found that sweet spot that you thought only Yujin knew about, which made every throb that much more overwhelming in its intensity.
“Your balls feel so heavy, daddy. Isn’t Yujin draining them enough?” Wonyoung asked, letting her enveloping lips slide with ease over your shaft, almost to the end of your base.
Quite the opposite, because while Wonyoung showered first thing in the morning, Yujin milked a massive load out of you, counting out every single time she edged you until you exploded in her hands. And then another one right before her first class, emptying you into her mouth while you ate her out.
“Do you really think that?”
“No, of course not,” Wonyoung said, shaking her head. “Pretty sure I could hear you moaning her name when I was in the shower. You’re cute when you beg.”
“I wasn’t beg---“ The warm mouth back on your cock shut you up when you hit the back of Wonyoung’s tightening throat for the first time, nearly toppling you over with pleasure. Your legs trembled as she worked her mouth with more fervor, keeping you buried down her throat just long enough to give you the satisfaction desired before coming up for air.
This girl knew just how to earn that praise. Her wet little tongue darted out from between her lips to swirl around the tip of your cock, flicking around in perfect circles around the delicate underside of your shaft, then combined it with tender kisses, soft licks, and hot breath to target that ultra-sensitive spot you knew she didn’t learn on her own. But fuck, it felt so good that you didn’t care how she found it. Not when Wonyoung kept you on edge and shifted her concentration to your balls that hadn’t been given nearly enough attention. She eagerly teased them with sloppy licks until she slipped them one at a time into her mouth, and kept a hand pumping your rock-hard cock, only to lick back up your length to swallow you up once more.
“Oh my god, princess. That pretty mouth does more than just complain,” you said, pushing your luck further than you had any right to, and you wouldn’t be surprised if Wonyoung left you in the middle of the living room with your pants around your ankles. Thankfully, she didn’t, and kept the train of bliss moving, determined to coat your cock with all of her spit and lip gloss.
“What do you think Yujin would say if she saw me on my knees blowing her daddy?”
“I think she’d say you should do a better job.”
“Asshole. You really want me to stop, don’t you?”
“No, but I can tell you’re not going to with how much you’re also enjoying this.” Wonyoung really couldn’t argue with that no matter how much she wanted to, and put that energy into keeping her lips down your cock, ensuring a constant, messy trail of saliva.
“I’ll enjoy it all day if it means you stay quiet.”
If that’s all it took, then she should have offered that from the very start. Because more than you liked to admit, her mouth drove you fucking crazy, like in a way you’d drop out of university and commit crimes to get a blowjob like this. Not quite like Yujin, who had a several page long resume of blowjob techniques that involved more than just her tongue and lips, but everything Wonyoung did was more than enough to keep you from thinking straight.
Your entire body jolted after every slurp and lick, and Wonyoung took advantage of how easy it was to tease you. Her magical hands explored your body, caressing your thighs, your ass, and anywhere else she could without losing her focus.
“Hmph. You really don’t think I’m as good as Yujin?”
That jealous trait of hers always liked to creep up, because Wonyoung couldn’t stand being second best at anything. You couldn’t lie to her either, because as good as she was at devouring your cock---Yujin would always be next level.
“No. Sorry, princess, but it’s not even close.”
You could see the disappointment in Wonyoung’s face, but she instead turned that discouragement into eagerness, moving her mouth down your length to swallow every last inch up. It only proved your point when she gagged after holding your cock down her throat for far longer than she was used to.
“For starters, you’re nowhere near sloppy enough.”
Wonyoung sighed through gritted teeth as she stroked you, placing wet kisses alongside your throbbing cock. “Then help me out. Make me sloppier.”
Letting out a devilish grin that plastered your face, you leaned closer and slid your hand through her raven black hair, yanking with enough force to tilt her head back, which gave easier access to that perfect mouth.
“It would be my pleasure, princess,” you said as you leisurely stroked your cock in front of Wonyoung’s angelic face, while her big doe eyes stared longingly up at you. It was enough to make you explode just by looking at those gorgeous features.
“Daddy---“ she whined as you relieved yourself by rubbing your swollen cockhead on those full red lips, using your pre-cum as a replacement lip gloss.
“Didn’t I say you don’t get to use that?”
“But daddy likes it when I call you that, don’t you? Daddy…” Always trying to get under your skin, even in a moment like this. But unexpectedly, that one word caused more damage than you thought, and Wonyoung had grown addicted to using it already, with no any pretense or hesitation.
“Want daddy to fuck my mouth. Come on, I know you wanna shove it down my throat and shut me up. I’ve been such a naughty little brat, won’t you do something about that?”
Wonyoung leaning into her brat persona was not something you predicted, but when she put it that way, what were brats if not something to be punished? It wouldn’t hurt to oblige her, given that she wouldn’t give up until she got her way regardless, but you at least needed something in return.
“I’ll make you gag on this dick, but let me see those cute tits, princess.”
An innocent smile overtook her face as she reached behind her back to comply, tugging on the clasp of her bra, heightening your expectations. “Okay, daddy.”
This iteration of Wonyoung, in this submissive and obedient state was far superior, and you’d expect her to do what you asked at this stage, devoid of any backtalk or snarky comments.
“Daddy, your cock,” Wonyoung pleaded, eyes narrowing while she gave the full reveal of her chest, letting her breasts free as you reached forward to touch them and squeezed each, flicking both pretty nipples as they hardened underneath your fingertips.
“This was what you wanted. Now give me what I want. Give me that cock, want it to fill my little mouth.“
“I didn’t hear a please. That’s what good girls use.”
“But I’m not a good girl. So give me what I want, daddy.“
Even if you wanted to, you couldn’t resist Wonyoung anymore as she licked her lips in anticipation---how could you resist a beautiful girl on her knees, begging for your cock? When her pouty lips parted, ready to take in your cock again, you wasted no time and plunged deep down her throat, easily hitting the back of it in one swift motion.
Wonyoung immediately gagged on your length, but you didn’t allow her to adjust as you repeatedly bottomed out her throat before you pulled out, watching how her lips desperately chased your cock. “Daddy, no. Don’t hold back, I can take it. Use my mouth like a toy---please."
A request you would easily oblige, but first, you used your cock to slap her pretty face numerous times before turning her mouth into a helpless vessel for your pleasure. Indulging both of your desires, you began to slam your hips into her face with a harsh grip on her head, tangling your fingers up in her pretty locks.
“That’s it, princess, keep that fucking mouth open. You wanted daddy to fuck your throat like this, right? You wanted me to make you choke on this cock?”
She nodded best as she could, and you loved hearing her gag and struggle on your shaft, especially when her eyes begged for more as you kept the weight of your cock stuffed down Wonyoung’s throat, defiling such a pretty piece of artwork, a spoiled, rotten, defiant brat.
The entire day’s worth of frustrations channeled into your hips as you carried out your merciless facefuck, with every punishing thrust leaving your cock dripping wet with Wonyoung’s slippery drool. For once, you had peace---no complaining, no more whining, just loud gags and messy slurps filling the room.
If only Yujin could see you now---(she’d probably say you weren’t being rough enough).
Wonyoung’s divine mouth felt amazing before, but nowhere like this. It was as if her mouth was made to be used, a pretty plaything for your disposal, a sloppy wet hole designed for your pleasure that struggled to breathe. Her innocent, modelesque visuals that won the genetic lottery became sullied with saliva, ruining her perfectly applied makeup, and made its way down to her expensive necklace before sliding down her enticing cleavage.
You weren’t sure how you were ever intimidated by such a tall, leggy goddess, when all it took was a little praise and an offering between your legs for her to fold like a deck of cards. Even comical, you could call it, and you couldn’t imagine how needy she would get once you had your fingers in her cunt.
“My fucking god, Wonyoung,” you growled, palming her head tight, fucking her mouth into a frenzy of gags and spit that sent you deeper into an uncontained spiral of lust. “Your bratty fucking mouth feels too good.”
With her jaw overworked and tears streaming down her pale, flushed cheeks, Wonyoung could only respond by squeezing your thighs she held onto as you pounded into her throat relentlessly. No longer did she resemble the beautiful, innocent doll she presented herself to be, but instead a beautiful drooling mess of spit trying to fight through her gag reflex that kept your cock wet and warm.
After one more strong thrust from your hips, you held her gorgeous face down at your base, ensuring not a single inch of cock wasn’t held down her struggling throat balls deep. Your fingers dug into her scalp as her cute nose pressed against your abdomen, and you watched intently how her eyes watered more and more the longer you held her there, refusing to give a single ounce of mercy.
Wonyoung let out a gag so loud with her throat consuming your cock that you almost exploded then and there, but forced yourself to hold on. As much as you wanted, you couldn’t blow a load in her mouth without at least getting a chance to see that tight, impeccable body bare naked. Despite that, you pushed her firmly into your crotch just a little longer, making her mouth fill up with spit and her eyes water even more so until you pulled away.
When you withdrew your cock away from her wet, swollen lips, Wonyoung gasped for air as thin strings of saliva kept your shaft connected to her satisfied smile, tongue flicking at your cock with a whimper.
“Don’t stop on my account. I can take much more,” she said, those tear-filled eyes looking on with determination.
“Yeah, but---I can’t.” Wonyoung let out a giggle before grabbing your cock drenched with her saliva, and jerked you off, every pump threatening to send you past release.
“Are you going to paint my face then, daddy?” she asked, tempting fate by planting several kisses on the top of your cockhead.
“Not a chance, princess. My load belongs inside your cunt.”
Needing a moment, you stepped out of the pile of clothes underneath you and helped Wonyoung rise to her feet, taking her by the wrist to guide her towards the couch. Nothing about her resembled elegance any longer---disheveled hair, ruined makeup, and a face covered in saliva was the ideal formula to put her in her place. And all it took was a cock jammed down her throat.
“Are you going to fuck me now?” Wonyoung asked, still recuperating from having her throat fucked raw. She tried to find some comfort in your eyes, but all she saw was your stern expression, leaving her to wonder whether you would make her feel even more desperate than she already did.
“That all depends on you, princess. How about you finish taking that dress off for me?”
“Yes, daddy.” Again, Wonyoung was just concerned about following instructions at this point, and tugged that expensive dress down off her hips around her ankles, kicking it away. Your eyes watched every move she made with bated breath as she laid down on the couch, and every last inch of those slender legs that went on for days stretched across the cushions, leaving one final barricade between your desires.
“Your body is fucking perfect, princess,” you said, joining her on the couch with your eyes roaming a path of creamy skin from head to toe, and you took in the beauty of her flawless physique, unsure where was most deserving of your attention.
“Thank you, daddy. Do you want these off too?” Wonyoung asked as she slipped fingers into the waistband of her skimpy panties that matched her discarded bra.
“No, princess. That’s my job.”
Only that tiny piece of fabric separated you from seeing that tight naked body in its full splendor, but you were going to take your time savoring that reveal. Such an impeccable body like Wonyoung’s deserved to be worshiped from head to toe, so no better place to start than that as you grabbed one of her pristine feet and planted a kiss at the ball of it.
Spending as much time as you could without going overboard, you massaged her soft soles, then peppered them in kisses before you moved on to kiss her perfectly pedicured toes, each one painted with a black polish that contrasted the paleness of her skin.
“You’re kissing my feet?” Wonyoung asked, almost incredulous in her tone, but showed no signs of discomfort.
“Why wouldn’t I be? They’re very pretty. Just like the rest of you.”
“I…just didn’t know that was your thing. You know, I’ve had guys pay me to do this before. You’re much better at it.”
“Every part of you is my thing. I just wanna touch and taste your entire body.”
With a flushed glow returning back to her cheeks, you continued pressing kisses all over Wonyoung’s feet, and slid your lips into her delicate arches, not missing a spot. As you slowly worked your way up, you ran your hands up her creamy legs that could be considered a work of art on their own, and gave them the proper attention they deserved, kissing in between gentle caresses until you stopped just shy of her clothed center.
Wonyoung drew in a heavy breath as your fingers grazed over her panties, and whenever you pressed into her core, you could feel hints of wetness that she couldn’t hide. The gratification she craved wouldn’t be given easily however, and you planned on making her earn it as you gave her milky thighs a series of slow, deliberate kisses, making good on your word to taste all of her until they began to part like the gates of heaven, awaiting your touch.
You dragged out every moment, every chance to heighten Wonyoung’s arousal, which gave you all the time in the world to continue worshiping her body. One lick against the prominent damp spot at the center of her panties and she melted, begging for more when you licked a second and third time, the fabric darkening with every teasing lick.
“D-daddy,” Wonyoung gasped, but you ignored her and focused on tasting more sweet arousal through those thin panties, coming up with new ways to tease her while keeping a hand firmly stroking her soft thighs,
“Quiet, princess. Can’t you see I’m busy?”
“But I want you to taste me. Need your mouth on me, daddy. Don’t tease me, I hate it.”
Wonyoung bit onto her bottom lip, knowing she made a mistake by showing too much vulnerability, which meant you would prolong her pleasure even further. Still, she didn’t seem to care, even while the wetter her pretty panties became, the more inclined you were to build up that frustration more and more.
“Needy fucking brat.”
You would tease her all day if you had to.
“Shut up, just---please.” Who could have imagined that Wonyoung would ever plead this much, and all it took was teasing your fingers dangerously close to her pussy. As much as you enjoyed encouraging the needy look on her face, you much preferred to get rid of those useless panties, so after giving them a quick tug down the never-ending runaway that made up her legs, you rewarded yourself with the priceless treasure of Wonyoung’s gorgeous, wet little pussy.
Never had you seen something so beautiful, almost as much Wonyoung herself. The exposure of her clean shaven cunt transcended your expectations, well worth every second of waiting. Her thighs led a path to nirvana that your fingertips traveled up to her wet, glistening slit, daring to slip in but backing out at the last moment.
“Your pussy is so fucking pretty, princess.”
The flustered blush on her face had never looked so vivid when you traced her folds, collecting her slick on your fingertips and kept her under your control. Wonyoung still tried to chase your fingers, displaying her desperation with her hips, while her body begged for more attention.
“Daddy, please,” she murmured, but you ignored her pleas, continuing to torment, bringing her already escalated arousal levels sky high. “Need your fingers in me. Need you to touch me, need you to taste me.”
“What’s wrong, princess?” you asked in a mocking tone. “You don’t like when daddy teases you like this?”
Wonyoung shook her head furiously at your question, but all you did was stall further to create more anticipation, letting the quiet linger, which worked wonders to turn her into a mess of frustrated desire.
“Daddy. Daddy---daddy, please.” That was all you needed to finally succumb, and slid two fingers deep inside of her hot, wet depths. Wonyoung let out a loud gasp of ecstasy, digging her nails into the fabric of the couch cushions beneath her.
With just enough room for two fingers, you pumped into her enticing wet heat and wondered how you'd ever be able to fit your cock inside of her. A good problem to have.
“Daddy!” she cried out, arching her back higher than expected, and clenched around your hilted fingers.
“Look at you, princess. So fucking wet, and all it takes is a couple fingers inside your pretty cunt for you to stop being a brat?”
You weren’t putting in the full effort to stretch her out, but you could hear how wet Wonyoung was, your fingers doused in slick within seconds as you steadily pumped inside.
“Sh-shut up, I’m not that needy.”
“Oh, really? I guess I’ll stop then.” You couldn’t help but laugh when you withdrew your fingers from her wetness, hearing cries of desperation from at the loss of your fingers that you sucked clean. “Fuck, you taste good.”
“D-daddy, no---” she said, as you made a show of slurping her juices off your fingers. “Please put your fingers back inside me. It feels good. N-need more.”
“But I thought you weren’t needy?”
“Shut up, just---please, do what you were doing.”
You should have made Wonyoung beg more given she was so adept at it before you shoved your fingers back inside her warm cunt, but it was hard to waste time on that when all you wanted was that delicious taste of hers, straight from the tap.
In no time flat, you plunged back in knuckle-deep, but didn’t dare dream of adding a third, when two fingers became a struggle as is. She groaned as her slick folds swallowed you up and emitted those sweet sounds of bliss when your fingers curled after the apex of every thrust. You couldn’t wait any longer, and made your first lick up Wonyoung's wet slit while you kept two fingers buried in her, looking up every so often to see the pure ecstasy written across her face, as you inhaled her unforgettable aroma.
“Fuck, eat me, daddy, please eat my pussy. I need that tongue, just---” Wonyoung’s pleas bordered on demand at this point, yet you were happy to oblige her, and licked long stripes up and down her pussy, savoring the unforgettable sweet taste of her cunt as you cleaned up her wet folds,
Your mouth on her wet cunt acted like a pendulum that kept her back and forth between needy and domineering, whining with one series of licks, then grabbing the back of your head with the next. Either way, you didn’t really care which side she landed on, as long as you could keep the sweet, decadent taste on your lips and you didn’t let a single part of her pussy remain unexplored.
“God, you’re so fucking delicious,” you said as you grabbed hold of her thighs to draw her lithe body closer, then flicked against her clit before sealing your lips around it just long enough to build up pleasure, until you were right back where you started, making her eager hips frantically chase your tongue.
Wonyoung tasted like the most intoxicating mix of tangy sweetness you ever had, and just a single drop of her nectar was enough to bring out the ravenous animal inside you. Insatiable for more, your tongue drowned in her sweet juices, and you drank it all up while you wandered through her drenched folds, and made sure to not let a single spot go to waste.
Once more, you aimed for her swollen clit and latched your lips around it, using as much suction as your mouth would allow, with no plans on stopping until your appetite was appeased. While you devoured Wonyoung’s juicy pussy, her long fingers tugged at your hair, returning the favor from earlier, and urged your mouth to stay on her, to maintain such harsh suction that ignited more of her cute, unceasing moans.
“Fuck, you’re good at that, keep eating my pussy,” she said, with unending demand in her voice, and you welcomed the pain that came from fingers pulling at your hair, keeping you buried between her legs. Her hips began to gyrate on your face as you kept her taste lingering on your tongue, and every lick and slurp against her needy clit brought a new set of noises, while the satisfaction multiplied on her face.
Still, you couldn’t believe how good she tasted, and how cute she sounded when you ate her out. Wonyoung’s cries became louder, much sharper, but you refused to relent, suckling on her clit with such harshness that made her thighs quiver around your head as she desperately yearned for release. You swore Wonyoung might pull out strands of your hair, though you wouldn’t care when all you could hear was her ragged breathing and needy whines from her mouth as you did everything to bring her over that edge, making her squirm underneath you, hips bucking in a pattern that followed your tongue.
“D-daddy, fuck, daddy,” Wonyoung moaned out, and when you looked up with your lips secured around her clit, you could see her pant harder and harder as you tried to expedite the inevitable.
Nothing compared to how Wonyoung looked moments before climax. Your tongue swirled and flicked over the sensitive nub, then sealed around it one more time, harshly sucking on it to bring her to that sweet, sweet nirvana.
“Gonna cum, fuck, daddy, gonna cum on your face. I’m close, so close, please don’t stop, please…“
With another deep, satisfying slurp, you had Wonyoung right where you wanted, on a road to bliss, as her hips moved like she had lost all semblance of control. Her tight frame writhed in ecstasy, and you took advantage to plunge your fingers into her slick wetness once more, giving an extra dose of bliss that fanned the unquenchable flames in her core.
“I’m gonna---”
And with that, Wonyoung would get what she wanted, what she deserved, as you helped release all that built-up tension, a giant knot untangling. Her thighs squeezed your head in an almost suffocating manner, and her pretty hands yanked at bundles of hair, making sure she had never looked so unprincess-like than in that moment. You kept your lips wrapped around Wonyoung’s clit, watching her fall apart as her delectable juices spilled into your mouth, toes curling as she came hard, eyes shutting tight with your only focus giving her the best orgasm of her life.
Wonyoung rode out her high and then some, yet even when the intensity of her trembling thighs around your head died down, you had no inclination to stop, nor could you calm your insatiable need to keep your mouth on her pretty pussy for as long as you pleased.
You’d make a mental note to get the couch deep cleaned after this.
“Daddy, please, fuck---“
Making Wonyoung cum only once wouldn’t be sufficient, so you doubled down your efforts and suckled on her clit with more ferocity, putting your all into it so much that you didn’t even hear a door being opened, or the footsteps heading towards your way.
“I’m back home, oh.”
Neither of you gave the friendly figure that entered the living room a passing glance, too caught up in the moment of bliss, too involved with feasting on Wonyoung, drawing out more of that delicious nectar that already stained your lips and chin.
“Well, well, well. Looks like you two made up.” Yujin didn’t even flinch at the sight of clothes sprawled on the floor, or her two roommates naked on the couch with your tongue buried inside Wonyoung’s cunt.
“How was class?” you asked, your tone dripping with sarcasm. You weren’t actually seeking an answer, annoyed at having your focus broken before you returned your attention back to overstimulating Wonyoung, thrusting your fingers inside at the same rough pace that matched your tongue.
“Class? Oh right, my class. I really learned a lot,” Yujin said, still keeping up her facade. Now wasn’t the time to question her motives, and if anything, you’d thank her later for giving you a chance to rectify things. If not for her, you wouldn’t have your face covered in Wonyoung.
“You two look busy, so I’ll be in my room if you need me.” Yujin scurried off with that puppy-like smile, nothing but a momentary distraction while you got back to work.
That blissful state didn't take long to return to when Wonyoung squirmed underneath your face, moaning incoherently as you brought her to a second devastating orgasm with ease. Like previously, when your mouth locked on her clit, her toes curled once again, and you lapped up her delicious juices as your mouth filled back up with her rich taste. You refused to stop devouring Wonyoung’s pussy, not until she rode out her second high, and only then did you give your lips a break,
instead giving your fingers a workout, a routine of unyielding pleasure that there wasn’t any escape from.
“T-too much, daddy! P-please, fuck, fuck---I'm so sensitive, I can't," Wonyoung begged you to stop, but you disregarded every word she said, concentrating solely on getting her to cum on your fingers this time.
“I don’t care. You can, cum again on my fingers and then I’ll fuck you.” A rare silence from Wonyoung that you’d savor, listening to only her whimpering moans and the sounds of her drenched cunt as you kept her filled with your fingers. Finding her sweet spot with such precision, it took only a matter of moments until she fell apart again, shuddering even more uncontrollably.
“C-cumming again, daddy, fuck!”
Looking on with pride, you brought Wonyoung to orgasm a third time, with her back arched high, head thrown back, and a different picture painted every time she came that you’d never be able to get it out of your head. You loved hearing the cries of pleasure she made as your fingers pumped into her wetness, taking advantage of all that sensitivity that made her pussy ache, unable to handle the overstimulation, but still dripped in a way that absolutely ruined the couch cushions.
“Oh god, daddy, no more. Please, no more, I c-can’t, I-I,” she whimpered with tears in her eyes, body shaking as your fingers kept pounding into her wet walls. You pulled away once you were satisfied, licking her folds clean and fluttered over her clit for one extra moment. As tempting as it would be to finger her to a fourth orgasm, it was time for your cock to get some much needed attention.
Pulling yourself up into the cushions for a more comfortable position, you didn’t even bother cleaning your slick covered fingers, admiring the breathtaking view that was her wet entrance, ready to claim your ultimate prize.
Wonyoung looked like a doll with her legs spread wide, so vulnerable and exposed as her small chest heaved while she recovered from her relentless orgasms. Her gorgeous bare pussy glistened, every bit of supple, warm flesh more than ready for your cock, and the notion of stretching her out set off every little twitch in your shaft.
When you lined up with her inviting entrance, there was a much needed moment of hesitation as you let the anticipation build much more than necessary. But when you rubbed your cockhead between her wet pussy lips, any urge to tease disappeared, heightening your arousal to unbearable levels.
“Put it inside me. Need it, want you to fuck me so bad,” Wonyoung begged once more, and you didn’t even make her wait any longer. One look into her eyes later, and you eased inside her slick pussy, letting out a guttural groan that wasn’t even recognizable. Despite all your expectations, the initial thrusts into her warm cunt squeezed your cock harder than you were prepared for, nearly making you double over.
Your hands gripped her tiny little waist, watching for every reaction while you plunged into her suffocating cunt that felt unlike anything else before. Wonyoung was a popular girl for sure, so this wouldn’t be her first time, as evidenced by how many times you heard her getting railed in her bedroom that you lost track, but god, it certainly felt like it.
After a considerable amount of thrusts inside that dripping heat that enveloped your cock, Wonyoung stayed unbearably tight. Your efforts did little to stretch her little pussy, and it seemed impossible to pull your shaft from her cunt whenever you pumped inside her clinging walls. You took it as a challenge to bottom her out, though it resulted in an almost instant failure, met with a harsh resistance gripping your cock that only added to your determination.
“Princess, I can barely fit inside you,” you said, making more lustful moans escape Wonyoung’s lips while you tried your hardest to fill her with your whole length. You had her stunning face cupped like you were holding onto some type of rare artifact one might be scared to drop, staring at those pretty eyes, and her pretty plump lips that let out a constant flurry of moans and gasps whenever you pulled out and sank back inside her incredible warmth.
“More, daddy.”
“More what, princess?”
“Want more of you. You feel so good inside me already, want more of that cock,” she said, and it put a smile on your features to turn Wonyoung into such a needy, insatiable girl, no longer capable of being coy with her words. With every dip inside her smothering heat, you could sense more desperation, how much she yearned to be stretched to the maximum and feel your entire length in her.
“Fuck me, daddy. You know I’m not a good girl, so don’t fuck me like one.”
Your hips sped up with that request, and Wonyoung adjusted to your pace as her wet, warm walls became easier and easier to fill up, further opening her up. “You really are spoiled, aren’t you? A spoiled little brat that takes this cock so well.”
“Spoiled for your cock. So just shut up and fuck me. Make me feel you in my guts.”
While you kept her sparkling eyes in line of sight, you pressed your forehead against hers, seeing the lust building that raced through her body as you pumped into her hard and fast, giving the intense gratification she craved.
“Daddy---“ she gasped out, one little word from that pretty voice held so much power, so much weight. “Deeper, daddy. Fuck me, deeper. You feel so big, stretch my tight little pussy. Need you to fill me with every inch.”
And if that wasn’t encouragement enough, Wonyoung started to wrap her absurdly long legs around your waist to draw you in deeper, clutching onto one of your biceps, and her skin felt so utterly hot against yours. “Ruin me, daddy. Come on, I can take it. Fuck the brat out of me.”
Even at her most desperate moments, she still had some dominance left in her words, but you had no qualms not to listen. Because while Wonyoung might have looked like something precious and priceless, you certainly wouldn’t treat her as such. So little by little, your hips snapped back, until you were fucking her like you should have done from the start.
Making every thrust count, you were finally able to fuck Wonyoung balls deep, and took advantage of the slickness from every orgasm as your cock slid inside her effortlessly.
“Fuck, daddy, yes!“ Wonyoung cried out, her walls trembling whenever you bottomed her out, which only added to the urges to seize complete control of her body. You dove into her neck, and could hear her breathing deepen as you tasted the hot skin found there, before tracing the outline of her jaw, which made her even more consumed by your lustful touches.
Now that you could comfortably bury your cock to the hilt inside her warmth without struggle, Wonyoung felt so utterly wet and unimaginably tight, while all that built up arousal drowning your cock really paid off, because now you were fucking her as deep as you wanted, rearranging her guts like no tomorrow.
“You’re so fucking deep, keep that up. Want you to keep fucking me like this, please---don’t stop, don’t stop, please don’t stop,” Wonyoung repeated, becoming more desperate by the syllable while you continued to feast on her body, eager to lick up all that porcelain skin. You couldn’t ignore your cravings and dragged your tongue across her sensitive neck, enjoying the way she moaned when you sucked on the delicate flesh before you moved to trace her earlobe, then nibbled on it, working her more into a frenzy.
“I need to taste all of you, princess," you said as you licked down her collarbone and down to the curve of her breasts, then climbed back up, lifted her slender arms, and buried your tongue in her armpit. You savored the taste as you greedily licked her up, tracing the surface to gather up Wonyoung’s delectable sweat, only rewarded with deeper moans while your tongue went wild. The salty taste of her skin tasted even better there, and to no surprise, it only added more to her arousal as you cleaned her up throughly, licking long stripes up one of your new favorite spots of her goddess-like body to devour.
“You’re so delicious, princess. I could just taste every inch of you for hours.”
Her cheeks reddened once more, and you were careful not to miss a solitary inch. Wonyoung kept her arms stretched up over her head, distracting you from the intense wetness and tightness of her cunt while you licked and sucked away at her flawless armpit, slobbering over it without respite.
Wonyoung gave no signs of anything but enjoyment of your tongue bath, even more so when you switched sides to devour her other smooth, milky underarm, as you peppered the flesh with little ticklish kisses, then gave an equal amount of wet, hungry licks. Truly a feast on their own, you lapped up the soft skin of her pits, nuzzling your nose in them to breathe in the unforgettable aroma. Your devotion to her body only made her squirm and whimper more, which only urged you to keep feasting on her delicious armpits, swapping your attention between the two, as you wanted as many different regions of her body on your tongue as possible.
Only after you thoroughly slathered both in saliva did you have your fill, and gave both one last lick while watching the aroused reaction in her eyes.
“D-daddy,” Wonyoung murmured, shaky and subdued, like she could barely pull the word out of her throat while your hips kept her pressed into the couch.
“Yes, princess?” you asked, planting rough kisses all over the untouched side of her neck that made her blush even deeper.
“Bedroom. Take me there.”
“Which one?”
“Don’t care.”
There was only one actual option, given that your bedroom involved a set of stairs and Wonyoung’s was just down the hall, so the choice was obvious. Although you’d love to see the look on Yujin’s face when you barged into her room, wanting to use her luxurious bed to plow her roommate on. Most likely, you’d be met with encouragement rather than being told to get out, but even then, you didn’t want to take the chance of disturbing her.
So down the hallway it was, catching Wonyoung off guard as you lifted her petite figure off the couch and into your arms as your cock remained buried inside. With her legs already locked around you tightly, her arms followed, wrapping around the back of your neck as you brought her towards the bedroom. Not wasting any chance to keep her bouncing on your shaft, you squeezed that tight little ass with every step, until you made it past the open bedroom door that neither of you bothered to fully close.
When you entered Wonyoung’s spacious bedroom, you had only one thing on your mind---the tight grip her slick pussy held around your cock. Now that all concerns had been set aside, you came close to knocking a framed poster off the wall with the force generated when you pinned her against it. But outside of moaning daddy uninterrupted, she became unable to concentrate on anything else but clinging to your body as you drilled her without zero intentions of slowing down.
Being careful wasn’t an option anymore. Wonyoung had you all wrapped up, with those long limbs coiled around you like a snake, but yet she was the prey. You kept her pinned up against the bedroom wall like a museum painting, and each thrust nailed her harder, keeping her begging for more, keeping her creaming on your cock as you rammed your length into the deepest parts of her cunt in succession, showing no mercy.
“Your pussy just feels incredible, princess,” you growled, as your fingers kneaded her asscheeks between each thrust, using the wall as a partner to help pound away and put this needy little princess in her place, fucking her harder than imaginable, knowing she could take it. Her back arched higher while every stroke intensified, and she used her moans to voice the insatiable hunger you could see in her eyes while you gave it your all.
“God, your cock---makes me feel so good, stretches me so well, it’s fucking perfect,” she said, as you shoved your hard cock into her without a care. You knew Wonyoung could take it, she could take every rough thrust, and she’d complain if you did anything less.
So your battering cock continued its assault on her warm little hole, pumping inside her while being squeezed so goddamn tight it drove you absolutely crazy, all part of the plan to ruin her perfect cunt the way she begged and begged for it.
"Daddy, fuck me, fuck me!" Wonyoung begged, but did nothing to silence herself, the repeated thuds her sweaty back made against the wall surely moving its way up the entire house. Without saying another word, you had her cumming on your cock, that slick honey dripping between her legs adding more fuel to your hips as you fucked her into a second, then a third orgasm, arms tightening while she held on for dear life, legs trembling underneath your fingers. “Oh my god, daddy.”
Like a delicate flower no more, Wonyoung endured your rough treatment with pride, and embraced the way you manhandled her body. With every pump of your cock into that engulfing wet heat, her cries of satisfaction grew deafeningly loud, and she became almost delirious from bliss, unable to keep her eyes open much longer. Not a single ounce of smugness remained left on her face, just pure desire and barrels of lust that increased the harder you fucked your aggression out, letting her ride through climax after climax until the harsh clenches became borderline unbearable to handle.
And you couldn’t help but be selfish, turning Wonyoung into an absolute mess, with no genuine need to use words anymore or anything but hot, needy kisses that did all the talking necessary as you absorbed yourself in the vigorous use of her body.
After every vigorous thrust, you could feel her hot breath in your ear, along with every whiny moan and desperate plea for you to fuck her even beyond your own limits. You poured your attention into how your cock felt whenever you speared her warm little cunt, and dug fingers deeper into the creamy flesh of her ass. But that wasn’t enough, as you spread her legs wider to take every inch of your cock deeper than you thought possible, all while every little gasp, moan, and repetitive thump of her back crashing against the wall became an intricate melody in your ears.
“Princess---“ you said, your voice lowering into nothing but a growl and drew another deep moan from Wonyoung’s lips following one more strong impale, then pulled her away from the wall as you held her up in the air, fucking her relentlessly while you enjoyed the overpowering smack of flesh on flesh by pounding into her desperate cunt.
“Need to fucking cum in you soon. Gonna fill your pretty little pussy all the way up.”
Waiting for a response wasn’t something you bothered with when you approached the side of Wonyoung’s enormous canopy bed with its pulled back curtains and abundant pillows, only fucking her petite body harder on your thick cock to elicit out more cries of nonstop pleasure.
From the start, the plan was always to defile her doll-like body, and while the idea of pounding her on the carpet with a fistful of hair crossed your mind---you’d have to tear your cock away for just a moment---an impossible task.
Overindulgent was the only thing that could describe how you were fucking Wonyoung, and even more overindulgent was how much she kept creaming on your cock. But you had no trouble keeping the motions uninterrupted, nor did you have any trouble supporting her weight, remaining face to face to kiss her lips as many times as you chose to until you laid her down onto the soft mattress in a not-so-gentle manner.
“W-wait,” Wonyoung said, before words turned back into moans once more. “You can cum inside me, but not here. Don’t ruin the sheets.”
You could barely mutter out a chuckle. “You can buy more, princess.”
“But I like thes---“
You didn’t allow any further objections. Instead, with your knees locked into the mattress, you drove Wonyoung’s legs up into the air until they neared both shoulders, feet left dangling, and folded her up like a chair, eager to sink in at a completely new intense angle. “You’re gonna need a whole new bed when I’m done with you.”
Now that you achieved the deepest penetration possible, you were testing the springs of her mattress without even giving a chance for her heart to beat, bottoming Wonyoung out into new depths never felt before. All that elegance shattered, left with nothing but the obscene view of those beautiful legs spread open so fucking wide you couldn’t believe this was the same proper girl you shared a roof with for months. Restraint lost every ounce of meaning when you kept up the relentless plunges into Wonyoung’s tight, tight cunt, pounding her into the mattress hard enough to make the creaking bed frame think twice about its existence.
“Daddy!” Wonyoung cried out, loud enough to echo throughout the entire house, no longer giving a damn about the soon-to-be-ruined sheets, just like that wet hot pussy that your cock pistoned into and demanded more unearthed pleasure from.
Taking full advantage of putting Wonyoung into this new position, you made a slight adjustment, lifted yourself into a squat in order to gain more leverage, then planted both feet on her silk sheets, holding her little waist with a bruising grip while fucking her so deep you were liable to explode at any second.
“God, princess, you take daddy’s cock so well. Such a good little fuckdoll, letting me use you, letting me destroy your warm little hole like this. Gonna fill you up so much, fuck!” You couldn’t help but let out loud, guttural groans at how good Wonyoung’s dripping pussy felt, throbbing wildly at how goddamn tight she clenched around your cock that ached for release.
“You feel so good inside me, so, so good, daddy. Can’t wait for you to cum in me. It’s going to feel so good, so warm. Just pump that hot load into my wet little pussy. Give me all your cum, give it all to me. Please, daddy---I need it right fucking now.”
Your heavy balls slapped against her puckered hole as you brutally impaled her pussy, and you could feel every little tremble in her legs, every last wet squelch as you kept Wonyoung pinned to the creaking mattress, making her desperate for one more greedy orgasm even before you even achieved your first.
“Fuck, fuck, princess, your pussy is just too good. You’re gonna make me cum so hard. Need to fucking breed you, need to just fuck my thick load into your womb and you’re gonna take it all, princess.”
“Yes, daddy, please! Fuck me, use me until you cum. Need your balls drained inside me, need you to explode.”
Scrambling for anything within reach, Wonyoung frantically dug her nails into her sheets, but you just kept plowing her into the mattress for as long as your body would allow, hitting her guts every single time with surgical precision. Her slick pussy lips gripped with violent, almost painful clenches, and the lewd expression etched on her face helped the inevitable arrive faster than expected.
Only a matter of time before you filled that perfect, warm little hole you mercilessly slammed your cock into, letting out more ragged breaths by the second. You kept your weight shifted to easily balance on the balls of your feet, and just stared at the deep pools of lust in Wonyoung’s eyes while she took it all, legs spread perfectly for breeding, anticipating your load with endless amounts of lust, begging, and cries for more.
“Daddy, breed me. Breed me like you breed Yujin. Empty those balls in me, fill me up. Daddy, please---just use me to dump your cum in, wanna feel it all in my pussy, please.”
The coils of her mattress screamed for relief, and the smack of your thrusts became deafening, mirroring the cries that escaped Wonyoung's mouth. No longer did you even bother to look forward, and instead guided your focus on how your cock pulverized Wonyoung’s insides, every strong clench a shove towards the finish line that she already had a rolling start towards. Your worn out hips were on fire, but it paled in comparison to the flames in your core, only able to be doused in one matter---and Wonyoung did just that when her wrecked cunt squeezed your cock in just the right way.
You throbbed inside Wonyoung like you hadn’t been drained in a month. With your entire length buried to the hilt and your balls firmly flush against her ass, you shared that final moment of relief, spilling cum into her pussy like you never had anyone else. Thick, hot spurts overflowed her cunt, setting off violent twitches, satisfied groans, and gasps of relief from your lips when you emptied every last drop into Wonyoung.
“Daddy, it feels so good. Empty it all, daddy, empty that cum inside me. It’s so warm, so thick, I can feel it dripping out of me, don’t stop…”
The tired demands from Wonyoung’s lips had you throbbing even more as you drove your creamy load deeper inside her, thrusting with your heavy hips with whatever energy left while you rode out the best orgasm of your life.
Nothing could compare to such bliss in its sweetest, purest, rawest form. Nor could anything compare to the satisfied smile Wonyoung gave when you pulled out, and your seed spilled down her sweaty thighs, making one more final attempt to ruin her sheets.
“No, daddy,” she whispered, making exhausted gasps while you took her small face in your hands, without enough energy to do anything but stare at the blissed out look in her eyes. When you collapsed, Wonyoung pivoted her body to the side, then grabbed your cock and guided it back inside her intense heat. “Keep it in me. Isn’t this what Yujin likes?”
You twitched the moment you felt that warmth wrapped around your shaft again, but embraced her naked body, resting your head against her bare shoulder. Trying not to make any sudden movements proved difficult.
“There we go, daddy. Stay inside me, just like this.”
“Didn’t you have to study?” you asked, remembering the thread that unraveled and started all this.
“What did I say? Stay inside me.”
“Fine, but don’t move too much. It’s still sensitive.”
Without even looking, you could see the smirk on Wonyoung’s lips as she did the opposite and rolled her hips, clenching around your cock to keep you from softening.
“Wonyoung---“ you hissed, and harshly dug your fingers into her hips to keep her from moving. “Stay. Still.”
“Or what? You’ll fuck my brains out again? Pump another thick load in me?”
“You think this is going to happen more than once? Not a chance, princess. I’m only staying here to stop that bratty mouth from talking.”
“You’re a bad liar, daddy. I know you love how my pussy keeps your cock all nice and warm. You’re addicted to it already. I bet you won’t even go back to Yujin anymore.”
“I think I fucked you a little too hard. Maybe knocked a few brain cells out.”
“Don’t worry, daddy. I won’t say a word. I’ll keep it our little secret that you like my pussy better.”
“Shut---up. Next time I fuck you it’s going up your ass.”
“Is that a promise? I’ve never done that before. But your cock is so big, I don’t even think it’ll fit there…”
“Then I’ll make it fit.”
And with that, Wonyoung grabbed your arm to swing it around her waist, finally letting you enjoy the sweet sounds of silence.
At least for a little bit.
---------------------------
A/N: I dedicate my first Wonyoung fic to the great, amazing, wonderful @friskyriskywhisky . Didn't plan on taking so long to put out a new fic, nor did I plan on it being absurdly long. My longest fic to date, but I put a lot of heart into this and hopefully it shows.
During the course of these few months I've reached 12k followers which is still wild to me after all this time, so thanks to everyone who follows and reads, especially if you've been there since the beginning 💞💞
This was supposed to be out on the 31st for Wony day but I'm impatient, so enjoy this early gift. I've really enjoyed writing this version of Wonyoung and plan to do more with her.
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styxwanderer · 7 months ago
Text
The Wrong Fake Identity | Twisted Wonderland |
[you turn into a cat beastman because of crowley being an ass]
<Part 1> Part 2 part 3 Part4 part 5 part 6 part 7
<Please ignore my grammar mistake as i do not speak English as my mother language, thank you and please enjoy!>
˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚***•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙ ✩ *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙·̩̩̥͙**•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*·̩̩̥͙˚*
"Due to the covered overblot incidents occurring in Night Raven College, the government of each island is requesting an inspecting, but you as somebody that originated from none of these islands are unrecorded by the government. Grim is fine because he can be disguise as a familiar but you, oh, what ever shall we do." Crowley spoke, hand on his check as if he was the most miserable person in the world. The person standing infront of him, the most respected and admired student from NRC. Managing to capture hearts and admiration since the incidents with the overblots stand still. 
"When will this be?"
"Tomorow morning."
The enthusiastic tone contras to the alerting news. 'Why didn't you tell me sooner you OLD CROWW!' you screeched in your head. you had been called to headmaster office as he give his revelation. You wished Grim is here with you and blasting the old crow with whatever insult that come to his mind, but he chooses to bail on you, opting to wait on the now cozy ramshackle dorm you both share. 
A bit of panic did manage to etch to your mind because you don't want any of them to take you away from your friends. "What do you propose?" 
"Simple, you will be locked away hidden in the cottage island you found near that ca-"
" Fuck no." 
" -or you accept this envelope I had gracefully taken time to buy with my own money and try your best to act accordingly. Oh, how good of a person am I."
" Why do you even suggest the first, when you'd had gotten me a fake id?" his shenanigans starting to irk you. you could even feel a vein popping out.
" For the drama of course. then after this go to sam to get your photo taken for the id"
you sigh as you opened the envelope containing your passport and id. 
" Headmage.."
"yes?"
" What the fuck is thisss?" you point of the id specifically on the species where a bold letter is etched on it.
"beastman?"
"Ah did i get the wrong one? oo.. oohohoo, my bad.. but it's too late for a chance now. Oh, look at the time, it has gotten so late! you better get to Sam now before he closes his shop. The inspection is tomorrow so good luck!" he pushed you out of his office and slam his door on your face.
' THE FUCKING AUDACITY OF THIS BITCH ! ILL PICK YOUR FEATHERS TILL YOU GO BALD OLD Crow' you grumbled as you begrudgingly make your way to Sam. 
Save to say, at the end of the day you left Sam anticipating the next day chaos and you are left with the illegally obtained transforming potion and a complete id and passport. Grim is laughing nonstop at the revelation enjoying whatever torture that will come to you the day after. 
Crowley had been cursed at least a hundred times in your head. you drank the potion to change you into a beastman as you fall asleep.
" i wonder what beastman you will become." Grim said as you both nuzzled up to sleep.
The morning come sooner than you wished, the lights blinding you awake. 
"God dammit when did the sun get shinier"
you went to scratch your ears only to find it gone. This had made you jolt awake, bolting to the giant mirror you go, accidentally waking Grim in process. 
"UWAAA!! what's the rush y/n?" Grim sleepily asked.
The mirror reflects your new figure, and you could only be one thing, and that is MORTIFIED. 
you screeched in distress. 
" WAAA!! what's your damage dude." Grim spoke now fully awake as he went to approach you who are crouching holding your new ears.
" i... I had become..."
" NYAHAHAHAHAHA!!! out of all beasts you have to become a cat! i can't wait till Ace and Deuce sees this!!!" His loud laugher filled the room. You don’t even know there is such thing as a cat beastman. You had thought all beastman is the undomesticated version of every animal, yet here you are in a tip pointed ears of not a wolf, not a lion but a GOD DAMN CAT. Your tail swishing in distress.
"Just you wait Grim, once you have a misfortune, I'll laugh it up your face!!" your retort went on deaf ears as he kept laughing
Poor you can only power through the embarrassment, not at all excited to meeting any of your friends. 'They're gonna have a fieldtrip about all of thisss' you cried. 
a brilliant idea come to mind, you decided to just go class with a hat and tuck your tail hiding it under your jacket. wishing the day had not start but ended. 
from your understanding back in your world, you know how many sickfucks is there obsessing over cat girls/boys. you hope today is different. please lord. 
<*>
the bell has rung signing students to enter the classrooms, that includes you in a hat and jacket to hide the transformation. Ace and deuce spotted you as you entered the class.
" Yo! y/n! what's with the hat and jacket?" Ace greeted you as you went to your usual seat. 
" aren't you hot in all of that layer?" deuce followed
" Listen, Y/n got --" 
in a speed of light, you quickly grab his muzzle shutting whatever information u rather not share with this mischievous creature.
" If you don't shut up, I won't buy you the premium tuna can anymore!" you huffed. 
"no fairrr!!" Grim whined 
the conversation was cut short as crewel entered the building
“Right, pups, get to your seat. Today we will have an inspection authorized by the governments since there is several overblots that occurred in this past month.”
“What? Why did they just tell us now?” Ace questioned
 The whole class was shocked by the revelation. 
“quite pups, as your homeroom teacher I expect you to be on your best behaviour. Now –“  crewel stopped in his track as he stared at your soul. 
‘Professor Crewel, please let go of my uniform misconduct, just this time.”
“y/n I believe the headmage had given you solution for this inspection, you would not need the whatever disguise you are wearing.”
“ uhm.. no this is not a disguise actually--”
“As I mentioned, there would be a inspection so I cannot oversee your uniform misconduct. Now take it of.”
You were sweating bullets. ‘FUCK!’ your head is ringing with alarm. You don’t know what to do so you just sat still. Crewel started to approach you.
“oi, what’s the big deal y/n c’mon he is getting mad!” Ace said
“They might have an allergy reaction to their head! Deuce chimed.
‘ thanks, but not helping deuce!!’ you mentally shriek as crewel is now standing Infront of you. 
“ now stop with this tom-foolery, I expected better from you.” He reached for your hat.
“AH! Wait-”
Crewel had yanked the hat off showcasing your cat ear. 
The silence before the collective gasp makes you want to curl up in your blanket. 
“PUWHAHAHAHHAH!!! You can’t even be a legit legit beastman !! ” Ace laughter break the silence as you flush in both anger and embarrassment. 
“ Pfftt, Domisticated beastman..” deuce joined in.
“ SHUT UP!!”
Crewel cleared his throat gaining an abrupt silence from the Adeuce duo, tapping his whipping stick repeatedly. 
“explain..”
“ Headmage, Crowley-“
“ haaaaaa, show me the id and passport.”
You quickly took them out of your bag and place them on your desk as he inspect both of them. 
“HAAAAA… unfortunately I still cannot allow you in that atrocious get up, so remove your jacket and hat” he signed loudly again, engraving in his mind to kill the old crow, after all you are always his favourite students, how could that crow torture you so relentlessly. Maybe if he get to give you the adoption paper this crow wouldn’t dare to mess with you anymore?
You sigh, relenting to your fate. Any speck of pride you have over yourself vanished. As you let your tail swish free. 
Ace is trying hard not to laugh over your embarrassed red faced. But honestly both are just captivated by your new look. The way your ears twitch and your red face, the way your new feature give you a docile look. Both ace and deuce suddenly find their textbook or the corner of the room fascinating as their face are getting darker.
These reactions are of course not limited to ace and deuce but to the other students as well. Crewel watch in disdain as his precious ( soon to be) children is getting flaunted by these beasts. He mentally take note to keep you safe from there unruly teens, but priority. His number one priority now is to get Crowley in his chokehold. 
 <*>
“RINGGGG!!”
The bell signing for lunch ended the class, causing you another brain aneurism, because now you have to go to the packed cafeteria, with guaranteed display to everybody attending NRC.‘FUCK FUCK FUCK’ 
“c’mon prefect lets go get lunch!” deuce said
“I’m so hungry!! Lets go hurry before they ran out of the good stuff!”
 “Easy for you to say! You don’t have a cat tail or ears…” you suck holding grim as you hesitated to walk out of the classroom.
“how bout this! I can hide you with my body!” Deuce said enthusiastically
“haaaaa, alright.. thanks” you went to cling to his back as you let grim down opting to squeeze the article on his back, using your meat shield to your fullest potential.
Deuce face burn bright with how close you are to him, ‘this is like a hug from the back!’ he squeal internally. 
“r-right! Just stay close to me!” if he was given the opportunity then why not use it. He will definitely treasure this moment till the day that he passes.
“H-Hey! I can be your shield too you know!.”
“Deuce beat you to it, pal.” Grim jeered
You peek from your meat shield giving Ace a tongue out as you went back to hiding. What can a guy do when your insult is also cute. He can’t but just try to save his pride as he hides it with his teasing, just like a kindergartener. 
The four of you arrives at the cafeteria as a realisation dawn on you. You needed more meat shield. 
You dragged ace to line with deuce as you slid you press yourself against the wall creating and effective human wall, Ace didn’t mind being a flesh wall he just hoped he is  facing you instead of the other way around.
It all went swimmingly the four of you were spotted by your other friends.
“ what the hell are you up to?” Epel asked still unaware that you are clinging to their back hiding behind them. 
“Oh us? We are just here to get some lunch right? Deuce?” 
“o-Oh yeahh righttt! We are hiding anything at all.” 
Ace hit deuce foot as he grumbles at his idiocy and deuce to panicked to retort.
“yeahhh.. right” Epel narrows his eyes suspiciously.
“seriously guys today is the inspection day at least behave yourself while these governments representative are observing us.” Jack huff, crossing his arms disapprovingly.
“seriously! We aren’t ,making any trouble promise!” Ace the pro mischief maker he is, retorded without fail
“I double that” deuce half-shouted.
“ohh? The why did your heart rate is higher than normal?” the humanoid,Ortho joined in ganging up on acedeuce duo, 
“CEASE THIS NONESENSE IMMIDEATLY, HUMANS” 
“eep!” Sebek’s loud voice seems to ring harder on your ears making you let out an involuntary sound. 
“ Not so loud crocodile boyy, my ears are ringing.” Grim grumbled as he hold his ears.
“ I feel you now Grim.” You mentally said.
“ AH what is that!” epel accused as he slip past the human wall you created and be greeted with you.
“no wait!” Deuce tries to save but he was too late.
You in cat ears and tail.
Your ears continuously twitching. 
You have tail.
“uh hi? Epel?” 
Epel wondered if the mushroom in his plate is the right kind of mushroom or is he about to die and be greeted by one final sight of you. 
Is this bliss?
IS this heaven…?
“ oi.. Epel? Whats the problem?”
The other three curious of what Epel was seeing push through.
And there you are as a beastman. A cat beastman.
Jack howl.exe has stopped working
Sebek zigvolt.exe stopped working
Ortho.exe has taken rapid shot 
He is making sure his brother gets to see you like this as well. The picture is auto sent to Idia’s device.
Jack’s fluffy white tail began frantically wagging
Sebek the loudest of the loud manage to be the quietest.
The three of them felt blood rushed up their heads, while Deuce and Ace share a sense of ‘i get you.’ Vibe to the other four. 
In collective silence the four of them created a bigger human wall shield continuing adeuce duo’s wall.
“the wall keeps getting bigger and bigger! Yeahh! This will tell people that the great Grim is passing through!! “ Grim shouts.
 You would laugh at his antics but now just not the time. 
You pick grim up as to cover yourself with him as well, using his body to cover as much face as you can while u hunched trying to be invincible. 
Of course this meant letting go of ace and deuce much to their disappointment. 
The sixth of them wish they were born as some werebeast so easily carried by you and 
“We need explanation but for now let’s get some food.” 
With the group all agreeing to stay in formation you went. To get the food in line. 
You had manage to make grim cover your ear while u get food for him and you, you of course give him extra chicken for all the hard work.
Everything was going swell, or so you thought.
“BOOO!” 
In a speed that u had never achieved before you jump very high up into a table in an offense position hissing. Only then you had realized you fucked up. 
Grim had fallen off your head showing full out your new cat ears and tail.
‘Oh great sevens.’ You wanted to mentally bash yourself because what the fuck is that reflex.
The old bat had froze in his track as his eyes widened at your new form. He found your new form rather endearing, plus what kind of reaction can you show now? 
The whole cafeteria had gone silent so have your before jack covered you up with his jacket and scooped you up off the table and ran. All the other first year in tow.
“ MIND YA OWN BUSINESS, There is nothing to see here!” You could hear Epel shouted. 
“Run run run!” Ortho speed hover. 
“I WILL STUN YOU IF YOU FOLLOW US HUMANS!” Sebek shouted.
You could hear vil shouting to Epel for him to stop and order to Rook who is still in a paralyzed mode.
You could hear Riddle threatening Ace and Deuce to stop or not he would cut off their heads which only make them ran faster. Trey and carter trying to calm their dorm leader while also thinking of a plan to steal u away. 
Floyd was whining about how they are taking the little shrimp-cat away from him to jade. 
Azul still stuck in his trance.
Kamil shouting for you to come back, 
jamil silently planning murder to get u back.
Leona chuckling saying something about a hunt to ruggie who is also chuckling in amusement.
Silver shocked with how sebek is involved, but then again you are involved so he should’ve expected it and also your new form. Malleus also is laughing, amused.
Truth be told the first year gang had scoop you up not only to save you but also to fulfill their desire, your new form that had enhance your cuteness should only be for them and theirs only. They found you first! Not those second or third year! You belonged to them! You are one of us! They do not want any body to see you like this. They don’t deserve it.
Although Sebek won’t mind sharing this sight with Malleus he thinks no body deserves to see you like this especially with their lust filled eyes.
Lilia chuckle as he snapped out of his trance.
“Kufufufu, it seems the kitten has been kidnapped by a big bad rebellion.. it’s time to teach them to know their place isn’t.” 
“ father.. what are you planning?” 
“Truly a wise word, Lilia. Whatever shall we do to teach these rebellious kids to never steal from a dragon.”
“You mean a lion?” Leona  now annoyed with the declaration. 
“ you and them? Ha you are most incompatible with them.”
“Are you sure about that? She is a beastman now, and most beastman are in the reigh of sunset savanna, ultimately my kingdom. Plus i am the original of their beastkin, she would be most compatible with me.”
“She could live in luxury in briar valley as the wife of a king instead of just some lousy king.”
“Ha what is that?”
“Or a general wife you kno.”
“Not you too Lilia!.”
“Excuse me! I know them more and better than any or you!” Riddle now involved in the conversation.
“ oh my, i can’t even imagine the fate they will have if you get to her.”
“Ha what do you mean by that?”
“What i meant is simply, your “rules” is definitely going to be atrocious to follow. If she were with me she would live happily in riches.”
“And wet underwater? Oh how bad that would be for her poor skin. She would much rather go with me draped in fame and gold.”
“ as if! She would rather be with me!”
“Is that a challenge?”
“Fine let’s settle it like a sensible being. The one who manage to capture her first would have the right to be with her.” The lion declared.
“Such a wise statement coming from you, Rook prepare yourself.” 
“Ouii, a game of hunt! I agree.” Standing tall beside the fair king, he readied himself. 
“This whole thing is dumb, of course they would choose me, but for the sake of your dignity i will participate this game. Besides i have to collar a few underclassmen of mine” The red hair boy stands.
“Oo sounds fun, Jade, Floyd we will have a change if schedule, it seems to be perfect day for hunting.”
“Yes, Azul.”
“Yes,Azul~”
“As if you all could beat me the crown prince of briar woods himself.”
With the whole dorm agreeing to play the game of hunt, they set the hunt to begin after school finished (curtesy of Riddle), lets just say you might want to wish that your group got a memo of this and tries to save you from them and not take you for themselves of course .
Meanwhile-
“Of course they wouldn’t choose me.” 
“But… if i can catch them then they will have no other choose, hahaha.” The flamey blue haired guy spoke
[3251 word]
>>To be Continued<<
.·:*¨༺ ❈ ༻¨*:·.
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voidcat · 4 months ago
Note
comparing hand-sizes to hold their hand against the other's and then just holding hands + Laios 😭😭😭💞💞💞💞
I can never write Laios like you king but hope you like this Oxy ilyy<33🫶🫶
wc: 703 ; gn!reader
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“Hey, so…” a voice interrupts the silence. “What if all those physical differences we displayed weren’t just an effect of changeling spores, more like revealed by them?” Laios asks, looking at his hand deep in thought.
Few groans and hums raise in their air, Chilchuck for one isn’t happy in the slightest for having his sleep interrupted. At least Marcille seems a little interested, or maybe just trying to end the conversation before Laios’ mind can spiral to depths no one wishes to know about.
“You mean the body shaping accordingly to your life style?”
“Yes! But not exactly.” some faces drop as his voice raises a tone higher, whatever remnants of exhaustion wiped off his body. “What if the occupations we would take and the lives we would live were already predetermined by the bodies we were going to inhabit?”
He sounds excited, the heart in the right place but probably not explaining what’s on his mind as he wished.
“You mean like ‘nature vs nurture’?” your voice rings in the air and immediately you can see Marcille’s face dropping. Probably an option she thought of as well, but chose not to voice for the moment.
Meanwhile Laios, more than happy to have someone else join in on his brainstorming, rushes to your side like a giddy puppy, hands up, palms facing you.
“Like Senshi–” “Hmm, he looked quite slender and fragile, even for elven standards when he was an elf himself…” “And and–”he counts every small detail he has noticed and saved into his memory without taking a breath. Happy and in his element, he looks fascinating.
“Despite all that, I’ve noticed hand sizes to not have gone through a drastic change.”
“Oh, really?” you ask, now a little curious. Has he really paid individual attention to each and everyone’s hands? “Yes! I even compared them with mine for good measure.” he says matter-of-factly, earning a snort from you.
“Well, then in this case,” you draw in, “your research is flawed I’m afraid.” Unfazed by your close proximity, he only looks confused at your claim. The ‘how so’ waits on his tongue but you beat him to it.
“I don’t think you ever compared with mine.” he seems relieved, as if letting out the breath he was holding. Taking your words as an invitation, Laios grabs your hands and brings them up, facing his palms against yours.
First thing he notes is how close they are to his in size. Sure, for a tall-man, he is not exactly the tallest but he was told he has big hands. Your fingertips passing his distal interphalangeals barely, his brows furrow without noticing. At his reaction, you stick your tongue out at him victoriously. Unfazed by your reaction he continues to inspect. Staring at your hands against his with fascination, he moves each finger, grazing against your skin as if to test some sort of parameter only he knows of.
What feels like forever passes.the two of you, enthralled in your own bubble now, everyone else busy with something, their attentions diverted.
Laios realizes then, that he has been staring for a while. With this first moment kicks back in his senses; the world suddenly isn’t drowned out, everything but you isn’t covered by a dark curtain– and how painfully warm, and so nice to the touch your hands are.
As if sensing him snapping back into reality, you let your fingers slide across the gaps between his, clasping his hands in a demeanor that mimicked his observant self a while ago.
“See?” you break the silence for the two of you. “Told ya you were missing out on data.” you say with a grin. Finding himself at ease with you, he brings his right hand to scratch his head reluctantly.
He couldn’t possibly be blushing now, could he?
Laios tries to return the smile and still feels his shyness taking over. A breath let out and he allows himself to sit down more properly, letting his muscles relax. Taking out his little notebook to read, he stays, and his left hand drops to the ground, between the two of you, hand still clasped to yours, not letting go until you do.
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racetowrite · 2 months ago
Text
Miami, baby
Support a disabled creator
Pairing : Lando Norris x f!reader
Tags : slight edging, uprotected piv (fuck them kids)
Word Count : 3.2k
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After years of painstakingly saving every penny, you finally had the chance to attend an F1 race. Today was the big day, your first-ever experience at an event filled with adrenaline and excitement. You wandered around, searching for some indication of where to go, when suddenly you accidentally bumped into someone.
He was moving with purpose, clearly rushing to get somewhere, and the impact was so significant that you stumbled and fell to the ground with a gasp.
You looked up, disoriented and a little dazed, to find yourself staring into a pair of intense green eyes. The man who had accidentally knocked you over appeared before you. He was tall, strong, and exuded an air of dominance and control. For a moment, the world seemed to move in slow motion as you gazed at him, your heart beating wildly in your chest.
He looked at you with a mixture of surprise and concern, perhaps realizing that he had knocked you off balance. You weren't sure how to react, your body still feeling the impact of your fall. But then, he spoke, his voice deep and commanding yet gentle.
“Are you alright?” he asked, offering you a hand to help you stand up. His voice sent a shiver down your spine, the concern in his tone contrasting sharply with the authoritative quality he exuded.
Despite the confusion caused by the collision, you quickly realize that the person who helped you up is none other than Lando Norris, one of the most popular Formula One drivers on the grid.
Your eyes widen in recognition, but unlike other fans, you don't immediately erupt into a fit of screaming or gushing. Instead, your reaction is more subdued, a mixture of shock and reverence.
"Oh, I'm so sorry. I wasn't looking where I was going," you apologize, your voice a little shaky. You're still feeling the aftershocks of bumping into such a famous figure, but you manage to maintain your composure.
"I'm glad I didn't hurt you badly," Lando replies, his tone still gentle despite the accident. He seems relieved that you aren't hurt, his gaze sweeping over you to make sure you're alright.
You offer him a grateful smile, still trying to process the fact that you're actually face-to-face with Lando Norris. "Thank you for helping me up," you say, your voice a little hoarse.
Lando is struck by how unlike other fans you are. You're not screaming, begging for a picture, or losing your composure. Instead, you're standing there, calm and collected, even after the unexpected collision. This catches his attention and intrigues him.
As he looks at you, he can't help but notice how beautiful you are. There's an innocence and purity in your expression that draws him in, making it difficult for him to look away.
His gaze becomes almost predatory, drinking in every detail of your features. He's captivated by your lack of hysterics and the way you're handling yourself in his presence. Lando is used to fans becoming tongue-tied and overwhelmed in front of him, but you seem completely unfazed.
You realize that the clock is ticking, and the qualifying session is about to start. You hesitate for a moment, knowing that it's time to part ways. You offer Lando a smile and say, "Well, it was nice meeting you, and good luck in the qualifying."
Lando's expression changes slightly. He doesn't want this encounter to end just yet, and the thought of you leaving his side gives him an unpleasant feeling. Without thinking, he finds himself saying, "Wait, why don't you come watch from my box?"
"You could have a better view from there," he adds, hoping that you'll agree to his invitation. Lando doesn't want to admit it out loud, but the idea of having you near him, cheering him on, is strangely appealing.
You feel a pang of guilt as Lando invites you to the McLaren box. You're aware of how expensive those tickets can be, and you don't want to impose or be a burden. But at the same time, you're oddly touched by his invitation, and you can't bring yourself to outright refuse.
Instead, you try to brush off his concern, saying, "Oh, you really don't owe me anything. You didn't knock me that badly, I'm fine."
Lando is taken aback by your response. He’s used to people jumping at the chance to be nearby, especially women who usually throw themselves at him. But you're different. You're not flustered or falling over yourself to accept his invitation. Instead, you brush it off, telling him he doesn’t owe you anything.
For Lando, it's a novel, exhilarating feeling. He finds himself strangely captivated, more intrigued by this unexpected exchange than by any race he’s ever competed in.
Your indifference piques his interest even more. He's suddenly feeling challenged, like he's faced with a puzzle he needs to solve. No one has ever rejected his offer, let alone so nonchalantly. It's frustrating, but in a strangely addictive way. Lando can't help but find himself fascinated by this interaction, his mind more focused on you than on the impending race.
Lando's mind is racing, trying to find a way to keep the interaction going. He doesn't want to let you walk away, not yet. Thinking quickly, he comes up with an excuse.
"Hey, listen," he says, his tone slightly casual, "You should give me your number. Just in case, you know, if you need anything or... something like that."
You can't help but let out a soft laugh at Lando's insistence. You find yourself touched by his concern, but also amused by his persistence.
"Seriously, I'm fine," you assure him again, your voice filled with a hint of humor. "You didn't knock me down that badly. I'm not some damsel in distress, you know."
Lando can't help but chuckle a little at your playful response. He's never met someone so unfazed by his presence, someone who actually has a sense of humor.
“Yeah, I guess you’re not,” he replies, his tone becoming more relaxed. "But still, I'd feel better if I had a way to check up on you. Just in case."
Despite your earlier protests, you can't argue with Lando's insistence. There's something earnest in his tone, a genuine concern for your well-being that’s hard to ignore. Reluctantly, you find yourself agreeing.
"Alright, fine," you say, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "You can have my number if it'll make you feel better."
Lando's face lights up at your words. He hadn't expected you to give in so easily, but he can't deny the feeling of victory that floods through him. With a satisfied grin, he pulls out his phone and hands it to you.
"Great, beautiful. Put your number in here."
As you hand back his phone, your fingers briefly touch, and Lando feels an unexpected spark of electricity shoot through him at the contact. Just before you say goodbye, Lando suddenly hesitates, looking at your tousled hair. With a sly grin, he takes off his signature cap and places it on top of your head, adjusting it slightly so it sits comfortably on you.
"Wear this. Maybe it'll bring me luck," he grins. "And make sure you're cheering for me, okay?"
You can't help but feel a sudden rush of warmth at the gesture. The cap feels oddly comfortable on your head, like a piece of Lando is somehow with you now. You offer him a small smile, your fingers gently touching the cap.
"I'll be your biggest cheerleader," you promise, a hint of amusement in your voice. "Good luck, Lando."
Lando heads off to the McLaren garage, his thoughts whirling in his mind. Although he should be focused solely on the upcoming qualification, he can't keep his thoughts off you. Your nonchalant attitude, your lack of fangirling, and the way you've agreed to give him your number - it all leaves him slightly off-kilter.
He tries to shake off the distraction, to concentrate on his car and his performance. But the image of your smile, and the feeling of your touch, linger in his mind, making it difficult for him to fully immerse himself in the usual pre-qualification anticipation.
Lando quickly snaps out of his thoughts, though. He knows he needs to get in the zone. He puts on his driving gear, his mind focusing on the qualifying ahead, pushing you out of his mind. But even as he does so, his heart beats a little faster than usual, eager to impress you, the mysterious girl who captured his attention from a simple accident.
After placing p1 in qualifying, Lando's heart is still racing with adrenaline. He's thrilled with his performance, but there's something else he's excited about. He remembers the promise you made, that you would be there cheering him on.
As soon as he has a moment, Lando pulls out his phone and types out a quick message to you: "Hey, I placed p1. See you tomorrow at the race, yeah?"
Lando hits send on the message, but a moment later, he realises he's forgotten something crucial. He doesn't know your name. This thought sends a pang of frustration through him. How could he have forgotten to ask for your name?
With a small sigh, Lando types another message, this time asking, "By the way, I never got your name."
Lando's attention is now fully focused on his phone, waiting anxiously for your response. When your text comes through, he's slightly surprised.
"Y/N," he repeats to himself, testing out the name in his mind. "I like it."
He's about to reply when he sees you mention that you'll be watching him tomorrow. A sense of satisfaction and anticipation fills him, knowing you'll be there in the stands, cheering him on.
Lando sends a quick reply: "Can't wait. See you tomorrow, Y/N."
“I promise to be there.”
He can't help but feel a flutter of excitement at the thought of seeing you again, in the stands, cheering just for him. The thought of impressing you with his race only fuels his determination to win even more.
The day of the Miami Grand Prix arrives, and Lando is filled with a mix of excitement and determination. As he steps into his car, he can't help but think of you, a silent motivator in his mind. The race is intense, a chaotic whirlwind of speed and strategy. But Lando's focus is unwavering, thanks to the thought of you in the stands, watching him, cheering him on.
As he crosses the finish line, first place, Lando feels a rush of triumph. He's won his first Grand Prix, right in front of you.
Lando's heart is pounding as he climbs out of the car, the sounds of the crowd and the congratulations of his team a blur around him. All he can think of is finding you in the stands, seeing your reaction to his win. Lando quickly finds his way to the stands, searching for you amidst the sea of fans. And when he spots you, his heart stutters for a moment. You're standing there, a wide smile on your face, and the sight of you makes his victory even sweeter.
Lando is floating on a cloud of triumph.
The whole time, from the interviews to the celebration, Lando's gaze keeps flicking to the crowd, looking for you. Every time he locks eyes with you, a wave of excitement washes over him, making his victory even more meaningful.
Land of has to go through the usual routine after the race - interviews, press conferences, team debriefs. By the time he's finally free, it feels like hours have passed.
He hurries to the McLaren garage, his heart racing with anticipation. When he spots you outside, he feels a mix of relief and excitement. He quickly walks over to you, a wide smile on his face.
"You waited," Lando says, a hint of surprise and gratitude in his voice. He's still in his race suit, dusted with champagne and the exhaustion of the race. But he's too excited to see you to care about how he looks. You smile back at him, the sight of his boyish grin warming your heart.
"I promised, didn't I?" You reply, your tone light.
He takes a breath, trying to calm his racing heart. "That you did," he nods, his eyes dancing with a mixture of adrenaline and amusement. He looks around, suddenly aware of the curious glances from the crew and other drivers. He grabs your hand and leads you away from the crowd, to a more secluded spot.
Lando's hand encloses around yours, and a small shock of electricity shoots through you at the sudden contact. You're surprised at how warm his hand is, how firm his grip is. It's a simple touch, a brief moment of skin against skin, but it leaves you feeling a bit flushed.
You look up at Lando, who's still leading you along, and see a hint of a smirk on his lips. He's aware of the effect his touch has on you, but you're unaware that he's equally affected.
The night progresses, and somehow, you end up in Lando's hotel room, the adrenaline from the race still coursing through his veins. As the door closes behind you, the atmosphere shifts, a charged tension filling the air.
Lando looks at you, his eyes dark and intense. He steps closer, his proximity making your heart race in your chest. The space between you feels electric, the air between you taut with desire.
Lando doesn’t wait any longer. He moves closer, his hand cupping your cheek, his gaze burning into yours. "I’ve been wanting to do this since I first saw you," he murmurs, his voice low, sending shivers down your spine.
A couple of hours later, Lando feels like he’s in heaven.
Your head has been between his thighs for what has to be an hour now, his hand buried in your pretty hair, dragging your lips up and down his dripping cock. From the position, you on your knees beside your shared bed while he sits atop it, Lando fucking your face, it seems like he has all the power. But he knows better. He knows you’re letting him do this; that you, even with your bruised knees and puffy lips, have control over him. Over his mind, his body, his fucking soul.
“Baby, baby, please let me cum,” he whimpers into the quiet of the room, the only sounds echoing in his ears are his little grunts and moans and your obscene slurping around the length of him. “Can’t hold it anymore, y’feel so good, sweetheart.”
But you pull off his cock as soon as the words leave his lips, leaving him aching again. The whine he lets out is demeaning, embarrassing, but you wrap your hand around his cock, jacking him slowly while Lando hears you giggle softly.
“Are you gonna cum before you’ve even gotten my pussy?” You’re teasing him, you’ve been teasing him for the past few hours since you’ve been in his hotel room “Come on baby, you want to be inside me? You’ve been so good.”
Lando nods frantically, unthinking and delirious. “Please, please let me have you baby? I need it so bad. Please sweetheart, ple-”
“lay back for me?” And Lando shoves himself backward, laying himself onto the soft silk sheets. He barely has a chance to prepare himself before you’re standing and straddling him, working the tip of his cock into your dripping cunt.
And Lando knows, he knows, that this is the closest he’ll get to heaven. You moan as you sink down onto him, tight pussy clenching as you work your hips, and Lando almost rips a hole into the sheets with the effort not to thrust up into you, not to fucking cum inside you, right then and there. He’s mumbling nearly incoherently, little praises of “Baby, your pussy feels so good, you’re so tight, so fucking warm, god.”
And you can’t help but think how pretty Lando looks, all flushed and red, nipples still puffy from how you played with them hours earlier, chest heaving with his labored breaths. You rock your hips against him, running your nails down his chest as Lando chokes on a moan.
“You’re so good, baby,” you say, and Lando keens under the praise. “Your cock is so big. Fills me up so good. You stuff me so full, Lan.”
“Please” Lando groans, lips red and puffy from his biting.
“What, baby,” you ask, leaning down to nuzzle under his jaw, leaving soft kisses on his sensitive neck. You’re still grinding your hips, his balls and thighs all sticky from your sopping pussy.
“What do you need, Lan?”
“I need, I need-” Lando stutters, struggling to take a breath. “I need to fuck you baby. Oh god, please, please let me fuck you? Need it so bad.”
Lando knows that it's a long shot, that you could easily refuse him, and he’d let you, just as he’s been letting you refuse him for hours. But you grin between the kisses you’re leaving on his neck, your hips finally coming to a stop. “You’ve been so good. You’ve won the race. Come on, baby, you can fuck me.”
Lando doesn’t need to be told twice.
He tries not to mourn the loss of you around his cock as he slips out of you, quickly rolling you over. He slots himself between your spread thighs, shoving himself back into your gaping cunt, relishing in the pretty moan you let out. Lando’s eyes roll into the back of his head, a sharp gasp escaping his throat at the overwhelming heat of you.
He bucks into you uncontrollably, slamming into your pretty cunt with reckless abandon. He tucks his head into the crook of your neck, hips working endlessly into you, balls slapping against your ass as he mouths at your soft skin.
Your nails are digging into his back as he ruts into your pussy, punching little ah, ah, ahs, out of your chest with every thrust.
You clench so fucking tight around his cock when you cum, a garbled “Lan, fuck, oh god-” leaving your lips as your hips shake and your vision goes white.
Lando is just babbling feverishly into your neck, a long string of “Thank you, thank you, oh god. Love your pussy, thank you for giving me your pussy, you make me feel so good, shit-” and he’s cumming, thick cum shooting deep into your pussy, all while he thanks you.
He doesn’t let you go for a long time, his strong arms wrapped around you as he twitches with the aftershock of his orgasm. You run a calming hand down his back, lightly tracing his scars while you wait for him to breathe normally again. You praise him softly, whispering into his hair, “You did so good, Lando. Made me feel so good baby, you’re so perfect.”
After a few minutes, Lando pulls you closer, his arms encircling you, his body warm and solid against yours. He buries his face in your hair, breathing in your scent.
"You're the real win this weekend," he murmurs, his voice filled with a quiet intensity. "I might have won the race, but finding you, this moment with you...that's what really matters. And I'm not letting you go now that I've found you."
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sandplague · 19 days ago
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pathologic 3 save & sound 2024 presentation
this is a quick attempt at a transcript of the presentation. I think I got most of it but there are some words I was unable to hear, I can't say I have a lot of practice doing this and that's on me so if any of you guys can help me I'll edit it asap
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Ressa Schwarzwald: I'm Ressa from Gameowdio. Our team has been working on Pathologic 3 with Vasily Kashnikov and his apprentice Nikolai. This video will feature some of the audio stuff we've made together.
Our goal regarding audio direction was to give the real experience of being in the epicenter of an epidemic. Fully realistic, no bullshit. So we are obviously shooting this video in The Town. We realized pretty early that the game was quite different from the original Pathologic 2 because of the time travel mechanics. So for the prototype we built a time travel machine [the date November 1924 shows on screen], which appeared to be quite useful to record some source sounds, and [date changes to November 3024] make this video in just half a second using existing technology.
Let's start with the music.
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Vasily Kashnikov: Hi, I'm Vasily Kashnikov, audio director of Pathologic 3 project. I'll tell you how our music is structured. We were already thinking about how the Bachelor's game would sound when we were working on Patholgic 2 and writing music for Haruspex. In Pathologic 2, the music had more ethnic and real motives (motifs?) and instruments. Since the city and its customs are familiar with Haruspex since he was a child, he is involved in the traditional way of life. In the case of Pathologic 3, this is the view of an outsider who evaluates everything from the point of view of rationality and science. Therefore, we are trying to make the Pathologic 3 soundtrack colder and more detached from the steppes and ethnicity in character. There is more synthesis, guitars at the same time, the Bachelor communicates with those in power so the soundtrack contains a large share of minimalist so-called furniture music that could sound in the beginning of the last century. Piano etudes and references to composers of that time: Satie, Debussy, etc. The soundtrack is a rather eclectic mix of dreampop, downtempo, and (?) minimalism.
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In the city when the Bachelor is alone with himself, we emphasize the cold mind of the rhythm section: less emotional harmony, and sometimes electronic timbres. In the rooms where we need to separate the main character from those he interacts with, we use more expressive harmonies and more classical instruments: piano and guitar passages.
When we designed the interactive music system, we assumed that time is finite, and the music had to change depending on the amount of time the Bachelor had left. However, we later abandoned this system and now the music changes depending on the state of the Bachelor himself, who can fall into apathy or psychosis. To emphasize these states, we apply filters and effects to different layers of our tracks and get a slower, muffled sound in the case of apathy, and wired (?) nervous, glitchy in the case of psychosis. In the infected quarters, there are interactive systems that... [screen begins to distort] oh my god, Nataliya! Please stop this!
Nataliya Radina: Whoops, hehe, sorry. But yeah, basically the other system we created reflects everything you hear in the game. Such as... If we use our gun when dealing with the local thugs, the longer we aim the weapon at the people, the less sounds of the outside world we hear and the louder becomes the heartbeat. To add to the intensity, sharper tone was used along with a high pitch tinnitus sound. If the psychosis level goes to the maximum, it starts to damage Bachelor's health, which is accompanied by flashes on the screen, as well as low heartbeat and short breathing sounds.
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Vasily Kashnikov: In the infected and rebel's quarters, there are also interactive systems that change the character of the music by adding or disabling instrument layers depending on the state of the world or the Bachelor's equipment to fight the plague. As a result, we have 12 tracks for each day spent in the city. they can freely switch between each other and several dozen themes for locations and characters, and all the music is subject to change depending on the state of the Bachelor.
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Nataliya Radina: Since the game has a weather changing system, we also wanted to reflect that in our audio feedback as well. The game has global wetness parameter that shows how intense the rain is. The more it rains, the more squishy and muddy are the steps of the outside surfaces. Moreover, if you come closer to the window, you can hear the rain pondering on the glass. Even in the middle of the plague, we always have room for cozy moments, right? My favorite part of that system is involving cows. [cow moo]. So, when it's raining, you can actually hear very very soft sound of raindrops dropping on those bovine butts. And I personally think it's beautiful.
Artur Ramanouski: Hi, my name is Artur, and I was also involved in creating some sound assets for the game.
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Probably the hardest thing to record were the footsteps. I had everything planned out: bought the equipment, got every type of surface, but...there was one small thing I overlooked: I live in a city with over 12 million people. Noise everywhere. The solution was simple and ingenious: I recorded everything on a Sunday, because in Buenos Ares, Sunday is the one day when no one does anything.
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Nataliya Radina: One of the most important places in the game is the cathedral. There we have a system of ladders that control the speed and direction of time. Direction wise, we can have it flow normally, or reversed. [entire presentation is rewound very quickly so it's back to Ressa]
Ressa Schwarzwald: She is super professional.
Nataliya Radina: As for the speed, we can make it stand still, go twice as fast, or half normal speed. We created an audio system that has to (?) understand what is actually happening around (inaudible). When we reverse time, spatial effects are added to the surrounding sounds. Ambience, steps, and the mechanism itself. When time stands still, we increase the low frequencies in the ambience, and all the other sounds are muted to zero. Now lastly, when the time goes twice as fast, or half the original speed, the pitch of the surrounding sound changes accordingly.
The coolest part of this system is that it's been actually implemented into the game engine using only one parameter.
Ressa Schwarzwald: Thank you for watching. See you here, later!
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seireiteihellbutterfly · 3 months ago
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Second Chance Sorcerer Chapter 3 - The Trials
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Pairing: Nanami Kento x Fem! reader A/N: Chapter 3 is here! I'm glad I was able to write this out. As usual, this has been adapted to y/n format. To read the OC version, check out AO3.
Oh, and I highly recommend listening to Yet by Switchfoot while reading this chapter. It just pairs well. Warnings: childhood trauma, lots of angst
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Nanami masterlist
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“By facing your deepest regrets.”
Nanami feels a chill rake over his spine as the shadow being says the words.
“Regrets? There isn’t a single sorcerer in the world that doesn’t have regrets. There’s no good way to rank them.”
“Really 7:3 sorcerer? You don’t believe some regrets hurt more than others?” The Spectator watches with keen eyes as Nanami contemplates its words. There’s a pregnant pause while he considers, glancing around at Phantom Tokyo as he does so. He didn’t like how the shadow easily figured out what he’d been hiding for years. 
A sorcerer’s life was always full of regrets; regret for not being normal, regret over their fallen comrades, regret over not taking time to themselves, regret for not being able to fall in love freely.
“What good is spending time thinking about regrets anyway?” he asks finally. “There’s nothing we can do about them. We learn to accept them and move on.”
“Have you? Accepted, that is?” the shadow asks back. Nanami stares at it, feeling a jolt pass through him.
“Of course I have. Now unless time travel is something the purgatory realm offers, I don’t see the point. I can’t go back and undo the things I regret. So of course I learned to accept them.”
“Then why do you never allow yourself to think about them? If you’ve really accepted them, then thinking about them shouldn’t bring that feeling of guilt in your chest, should it?” There’s a sly tone to the shadow’s question as it asks.
Taken aback, Nanami glares at it but doesn’t answer. Anyone who had lived his life wouldn’t question the guilt that accompanied his regrets. It was an endless cycle, reminding himself that most of the things that had happened weren't things he could have necessarily controlled yet it weighed down heavily on him. And how could they not? He was there when those awful things happened. It was a natural human tendency to wonder if the outcome may have been changed if he had done something differently.
The shadow does not fail to notice the less-than-kind expression on his face. “The only reason I ask, sorcerer, is because many try and fail to escape the purgatory realm even after agreeing to face their deepest regrets. Most believe it is coming to terms with them when in fact, it’s more than that.” 
It glides slightly closer to him before continuing. “It’s not enough that you come to terms with your regrets. But it’s learning to recognize that despite everything, despite all the guilt and unhappiness, life is still worth living. Many do not make it to that stage, and if that concept fails to take root, then the realm decides your life isn’t worth saving, and it will do what it was created to do, and end your life for you. You must want to live so much that all the regrets that feel like failures become reasons to live.”
“That’s unrealistic. Shouldn’t you have to find new things to live for instead? Who would want to continue living because of their regrets?”
“And what’s the guarantee those new things won’t become regrets later? Life doesn’t necessarily go linearly, does it? Something that brought you joy one day can make you miserable the next. It’s the same with people and relationships, isn’t it? You could have the best relationship with someone, and one day, they may hurt you, or you hurt them, and that too becomes a regret. Depending on the situation, it may be superficial or deep. If that person means enough to you, you won’t end the relationship because of that single regret, do you? Sometimes people experience multiple regrets with the people in their lives. It’s the same with wanting to live. You can keep finding new reasons to live, but ultimately, it’s realizing that life is worth living even with regrets.”
Nanami ponders the words, the frown on his face deepening. So many people in his life had come and gone. Some had been his choice, others due to circumstances beyond his control. He thinks about everyone he currently knows, and the shadow chuckles at his state. “I promise I’m not speaking in riddles meant to be solved. This journey is different for everyone. For some, it’s simple. Others need a few reminders about how much opportunity life offers.”
Nanami paces up and down the aisles of the bookstore, contemplating. “And what does facing one’s regrets look like?”
“It’s different for each person that enters the Trials. Some say it’s a withered garden, and they need to tend to the most neglected flowers and once the garden is in bloom, they can go back to living. Others are the only doctor in a hospital full of sick patients and don’t get respite until everyone is nursed back to health. But I will say that not everyone makes it through. Some become consumed by what they see or begin to feel hopeless with the amount of work necessary to survive. You have an additional restriction of being at the mercy of however long the neutralized energy remains in that charm of yours. So I’d say to not waste it much longer.”
Nanami glances at the aum charm on his wrist and feels a tinge of hope bubble inside him. He tries to think optimistically. Finding reasons to live even with the regrets…he hadn’t considered it that way. 
“You also have an unexpected plus. You have someone who desperately hopes you might come back to them. Most don’t necessarily have that privilege. The additional incentive will hopefully allow you to navigate this quicker.” The shadow adds trying to gauge his reaction.
Nanami again looks doubtfully at the charm. Deep in his heart, wedged away was a little box he hadn’t dared to open or peek at since he locked it away at 16. Even the sheer idea of it felt taboo, and he hadn’t allowed himself to dwell on it. But he allowed himself a moment of guilty pleasure, wondering if y/n had received his message by now. What would be your reaction? Shock? Happiness? Would you be crying tears of joy? 
He tries to imagine your face, putting together fragments of the various expressions he had seen during your time together. The lines of dissatisfaction that tugged at the corners of your mouth when he kept saying logistically sorcerers didn’t live very long, the glitter in your eyes when Itadori-Kun brought back a pastry for you, or the melancholic way the tip of your nose turned red when you watched those sad movies when he was teaching you how to channel your energy into the cursed doll. The day you had chosen Sophie’s Choice was a hard day overall, with him coming back from a mission only to see you, Ino-Kun, and Itadori-kun squished together on the sofa, the doll on your lap, all of you with tears in your eyes. 
Would you have cried like that for him after learning about his supposed death? Or maybe it was more intense than that? The kind of ugly crying where one trembles and can’t catch their breath? Or maybe there hadn’t been any crying at all. He shakes his head. He had no evidence that he had meant anything to you at all. The aum charms had been put on Ino-Kun and Itadori-Kun as well. Yet part of him hoped you had felt some kind of grief, that he had meant something to you, even if it was just as your teacher. 
In any case, whether or not you had cried was irrelevant. As the shadow had pointed out, it was thanks to your charm that he was now alive, and that wasn’t a thing to be taken lightly.
“You called it the Trials?” he asks The Mediator, who nods. 
“I will have to send you into another space where you can deal with your regrets. It’s rumored to be inside one’s heart but so far, no one has been able to confirm that. Now remember sorcerer. Once inside, you must look at your regrets, each one, learn the lesson it provides, and accept that you can live, despite having it. This isn’t about coming to terms with your regrets. It’s about understanding that your life isn’t any lesser to live just because you have them.”
Still not entirely convinced he knew what the shadow meant, he nods shakily. 
“Take your time, but don’t dawdle. You don’t have forever. And when in doubt, remember the reason you’re alive right now.”
“Have people have been successful before?”
“Indeed. And went on to live very happy lives, in fact even fuller lives than they had before.”
Nanami feels his pulse quicken. He had more questions but it felt pointless to ask them. As the shadow had pointed out, he was wasting precious neutralized cursed energy. He can feel his earlier dream of dying, of fading away into oblivion, slipping away like water through his fingers. 
“Ready?” The shadow’s silvery eyes gleam at him, waiting. 
With resolve, Nanami nods. It felt daunting, but he knows now he has to try. That there might be things he still needed to experience in the world of the living. 
The Mediator gives him a nod of finality before raising a shadowy limb from its side, looking eerily like the Grim Reaper for a moment, black smoky fingers curling up into its palm. Nanami turned to look behind him, transfixed, as what appeared to be a rectangle of light began to materialize. It had a strange metallic look, and as it grew larger, he could have sworn he heard the faint pulsation of a heart fill the space in the bookstore. Perhaps he really was going into a dimension of his own heart. The thought filled him with wonder, something he hadn’t felt since the loss of innocence during his teen years. 
He knew from a medical standpoint that his heart would be the same as any other human being, but he couldn’t help but try to imagine what it looked like in this dimension. Was it warm? Cold? Would he get a garden or a hospital? Or something more wondrous and complex than either of those? The rectangle finally stops growing and hovers a few inches off the ground and Nanami chances a peek inside. It looked curiously smooth and paved from his position, and appeared to have light reflecting inside it, and again, he heard the undeniable sound of a heart beating, like it was trying to urge him to look inside himself.
“This is where we part, sorcerer. I hope we do not meet again.” The shadow bows to him and Nanami returns the gesture, pushing his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose as he straightened. 
“Thank you for the guidance. I feel a little less willing to die at this moment.”
“That is reassuring to hear. Your initial attitude had me worried. Now go, there isn’t any time to waste.”
Nanami looks at the bright geometric patch before squaring his shoulders and purposefully stepping forward towards the metallic, reflective light. Y/n’s face burns in his mind as the sound of a heartbeat fills his ears and he walks through the door into what lay beyond. 
Once inside, he chances a glance backward and sees the portal sealing off, the briefest glimpse of the shadow creature catching the corner of his eye before it closes into a smooth surface of reflective glass. The dimension is plunged into silence, deafening and slightly unsettling. The blond sorcerer moves forward, taking in his new surroundings, astonished by what he saw.
His Trial was a smooth, long, corridor that appeared to be made of endless panels of mirrors from top to bottom. His shoes clicked on the polished glass as he moved forward. What was he supposed to do? Unlike the Trials that had been described to him, there was nothing here that needed his care or nurturing. He appeared to be alone, with nothing but his reflection for company. He ventures a few steps forward, thinking.
“The scenarios described to me said I needed to take care of whatever I found here,” he mused out loud, continuing to walk, randomly looking up, down, and to the sides where his glass image followed suit. “But I don’t see anything here. Wait, don’t tell me…” he almost laughs aloud, Y/n’s chief complaint echoing in his head. “Is the person I have to take care of myself?” he asks the mirror dimension. 
Immediately, the panel of mirrors on his left changed. While the ceiling, floor, and right wall retained his reflection, the left began to show swirls of color and distorted shapes. Fascinated, Nanami steps closer to the one nearest to him and peers into the glass. The abstract splotches instantly form a crisp image, playing like a scene from a movie and Nanami is astonished at what it shows him. A young boy with a tuft of messy blond hair ran towards a lake in happy abandon, water wings around his thin arms as he splashed in. Nanami’s gut twists as he remembers this day. The day so long ago, when he had learned that things such as curses really did exist, that they were not imaginary misfortunes cast by witches onto unsuspecting people like his storybooks had said. 
He watched his younger self floating at the surface of the water, his family a short distance away as they set up lunch on a picnic table. One of his cousins joins him shortly, giving chase as he lets out a peal of laughter and tries to kick away from him. Knowing what was going to happen, Nanami watched his younger self helplessly as he swam towards the middle of the lake, a brave 6-year-old unaware of the darker things that lurked in places that held negative emotions.
Unbeknownst to his family at the time, a girl had drowned there that past summer, something that Nanami had unearthed years later after this incident had occurred. His younger self now reached the middle of the lake and was suddenly lost, dragged under by an invisible force. The little boy blinks in shock, then opens his mouth and lets out a muffled scream as he sees the ugly curse that had caught hold of his foot. It grins, showing off too many teeth as he struggles, its pale green skin glimmering grotesquely under the watery light before he manages to kick the curse with his foot, swimming to the surface, coughing and spluttering, desperately trying to make his way back to land. His cousin looks at him in confusion as he swims in the opposite direction. 
“Get out of the water! Get out!” The shrill screams echoed off the lake as he finally made it to the edge and hauled himself out, laying on the grass shivering. He watches in panic as his cousin stays where he is, treading water and not making any attempts to come back. His father sprints over to check on the situation looking alarmed.
“Kento, what’s going on?”
“There’s something in the water! Tell aniki to get out!” Younger Nanami practically yells, trying to put distance between himself and the lake. His cousin shrugs, then takes a breath and goes underwater. When he resurfaces, he shakes his head. 
“There’s nothing in here! Kento did you see a huge catfish or something and freak out?” he taunts, a smirk appearing on his face. The blond boy shakes his head no vigorously. 
“There’s something there! I swear!”
“You’re just making things up! If you’re too scared, then stay there, I wanna swim.”
Nanami watches his younger self shrink, drawing his knees up to his chest in terror, watching his cousin swim fearlessly in the water. However, nothing happens. Several minutes pass by before his cousin finally comes back out, hair dripping. “Fraidy cat,” he shoots at him before joining the others at the picnic table. Younger Nanami walks to the table too, determined to get his point across.
“There really was something there!” 
His mother reaches out to pat his head. “It may have been a large fish Kento. It’s ok to admit it startled you,” she says emphatically, and the younger boy’s expression drops. Adult Nanami felt it inside his chest, that feeling of knowing they didn’t believe him, and that it was the beginning of almost a decade of them convinced he was a liar, saying things for attention. Younger Nanami becomes quiet after that, sitting in defeat at the table, the fresh barbeque and corn on the cob tasteless in his mouth. 
What was he supposed to learn from this? Adult Nanami pulls away from the mirror, feeling his heart tighten, feeling sad for the little boy sitting so dejectedly at the table. He takes a deep breath, knowing this was the moment he started to not trust his family, his parents, with any of the things he saw. The curses only worsened from there, almost like because he had seen one, all of them suddenly felt comfortable revealing themselves to him. His chest felt heavy with the grief filling him. The shadow had said to take the lesson from the memory and move on.
He leans against the opposite panel of mirrors, trying to get his feelings into check. Regrets from that day…he regretted scaring his family. He regretted being able to see that curse in the water. He regretted finding out he was different from everyone else that day. And how were these regrets supposed to become reasons to live? He racks his brain. He tried to warn his cousin about the unseen danger. That shaped him into becoming the responsible one in any situation. He had to be aware of what the others couldn’t see. It made him protective. It made him want his students to have a better childhood than he did. Was that it? Him turning into a guardian for everyone around him was a reason to live?
And just like that as the thought came into his head, the mirror began to frost at the edges, becoming more and more opaque as it covered the length of the panel before the memory became fully obscured, no longer visible to his eyes. 
Nanami swallows, still slightly unsettled by what he saw. It had been one thing to experience that as a child, but watching it as an adult, seeing how the people who were supposed to be looking after him brushed away his fears like they were nothing, hurt, even now. Part of him wanted to hug his younger self, to tell him he had become someone that everyone depended on, that someone wished for him to stay alive so hard that she put a neutralizing charm on him and saved his life. 
Was this how the rest of his Trial would be? If the first memory it showed him was this one, Nanami knew it would only get worse from here. His being felt painfully raw after seeing that childhood recollection, and he was unsure if he wanted to see more of that. The events that occurred at Jujutsu High when he was a teenager were unavoidable; he had been prepared for those to crop up based on the conversation he’d had with the shadow, but to see himself defenseless, as a child, with no one on his side was already breaking down his psyche. 
As he gathered his will to push on, he recalled the shadow saying this Trial was so he could face his deepest regrets. Deepest, not every. Could he have possibly found a way to get out of here faster? Nanami knew he had regrets that ran deeper than the day at the lake. If he approached each mirror, he would know which regret it was showing him. What if he could skip over the ones that weren’t as bad and only get to the ones that had really impacted him?
Motivated by the idea, he peeks into the next mirror panel, the colors and shapes coming into focus and he sees himself at 11, seated on the sofa with his parents, his dad looking stern, his mother exasperated. Recalling this event, Nanami quickly walks away from the mirror to the next one. Dealing with his regrets should not involve also dealing with his emotional trauma. That was too much. 
He stands in front of the next mirror and waits for the memory to come into focus. However, to his dismay, the colors remain as jumbled objects colliding with each other, refusing to coalesce. Hoping this was just a coincidence, he moves to the next one and is met with the same view, abstract movements, and blurs of action, refusing to show themselves to him. 
A regret is a regret, no matter how big, perhaps. Or maybe, the mirror dimension had determined what his deepest regrets already were, and he would have to face whatever it threw at him. 
With a sigh of defeat, Nanami turns back and goes to the mirror he was hoping to avoid. His heart was racing at the thought of reliving that day, but he was left with no choice. Once directly opposite to it, he braces himself for the memory. 
“Kento, this cannot go on any further. Your mother and I…we’re at a loss about what to do.”
“I’m sorry otosan.” His 11-year-old self keeps his gaze trained downwards, observing his legs that were swinging off the edge of the sofa. “But I mean it, it was there, trying to hurt my classmate.”
“Kento.” His mother leans towards him. “I am not sure what to believe anymore. These…incidents. These…stories. They’re becoming a more frequent occurrence. The doctors are baffled.”
Nanami’s dad, a man resembling him now in terms of height and build, tsks and shakes his head. “They’ve suggested medications, talking to a therapist-”
“The therapist wasn’t helping. They never believed anything I said.” The small boy appears to shrink a few inches in between his parents, his little fingers now fidgeting with each other as he speaks his words. 
“Kento, the problem is, we’re having difficulty believing you as well.” His mother looks like she’s about to cry and it fills his younger self with guilt, that he’s making her this way over him. “The doctors believe you have schizophrenia. It would explain you seeing things that aren’t there-”
“But they are there,” little Nanami insists desperately, looking at his parents with tears in his eyes. “They’re there, but it feels like I’m the only person that can see them.” He sees the look his parents exchange and feels like his worst fear is being confirmed; that his parents thought he was going crazy.
Adult Nanami steps away from the mirror, feeling sweat on his forehead. He feels his heart hammering in his chest and he slides down the smooth glass onto the floor trying to not fall apart. It was behind him. He had put this all behind him. He had vowed to never remember any of this ever again. It was why his will stated all his possessions should be donated to charity. He didn’t have a family. Had no one checking in on him. No one to visit during the holidays, save the other staff from the school. 
Jujutsu High had been both a blessing and a curse. But Nanami hadn’t felt like he was part of a family in decades. Hadn’t allowed himself to want that simple wish because it hurt too much. The aum charm swings against his leg, a pendulum reminding him of the limited time he has left. He realizes the day spent at the amusement park had been the first time in his adult life that he had allowed himself to indulge in that little fantasy. That the little group he had trained had somehow become his family of misfits. It wasn’t until now that he realized how much he wanted that to become a reality. That he wanted to belong.
Taking deep calming breaths, he gets to his feet, not totally prepared to face the memory again but is astonished to see the mirror has already frosted up, the memory blocked and gone. Admitting he wanted a family…another lesson learned. 
Unsteadily, Nanami moves on, hoping the next memory isn’t as brutal as the first two.  
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runningfrom2am · 6 months ago
Text
cold nights // epilogue
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summary: a few years later...
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 3.7k
masterlists / nav / requests
tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.
a/n:
here it is :) the epilogue :)
(i'm crying, could you tell??) i figured it was time to post this now that we've officially entered the overlapping requiem/michigan cherry era. tbh i was just afraid to let these two go bc i love them so much.
thank you all again SO so much for all the love on this fic. it has truly meant everything to me that so many people came on this actual JOURNEY with me, i never intended this to be so long but here we are.
anyway, stick around for requiem!! and i hope you loved this if you made it this far!!
my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)
send me any and all of your thoughts! here!
series masterlist // playlist // pinterest board
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You were all dressed up in one of your finest gowns, attending the gala that preceded the presidential election.
Coriolanus was running, of course, and you were so incredibly proud. He's worked toward this for years, and you had been there every step of the way since the tenth annual Hunger Games, all those years ago. It felt like a distant memory- albeit one that still haunted you regularly.
You were a whole new person. A Capitol citizen most of the year, and you were happy most of the time. You and Coryo had always gone home in the summers, though, to spend your days surrounded by friends and family under the District Twelve sun. You always looked forward to it, but three months never felt like quite enough time. You missed your old life, but that's all it could be now.
While some Capitol elite was talking your ear off about the upcoming games, that's all you can think about. Well, how after the election that your boyfriend would most certainly win, those summers of peace would be a thing of the past. It was hard to think about, which is why you focussed on how you could work around it. Perhaps you would make smaller visits throughout the year- although Coryo was prepping you for the endless tasks that would even be put onto you as the First Lady of Panem. Once he wins the election, he would propose- and it would be followed by the wedding of the century. You didn't know if you dreaded it or if the pressure of it all just scared you beyond what excitement could repair.
"Miss Y/L/N?" Your train of thought is abruptly interrupted and you hum in response, bringing the champagne glass to your lips, acting like you were paying attention the whole time.
"Yes?" You respond as you lower your glass. "My apologies, I just spaced out for a moment there. It's a big day, after all..." You chuckle to recover, tilting your head slightly at them.
"I was just asking if you had any input in the arena for the next Games, if you could give us any hints." The man asks, seemingly impatient with you getting distracted.
"Oh," You reply, smile fading softly. "No, I- I really try to stay out of all of that." You laugh nervously, gripping tighter onto the glass as you take another sip, relieved when you feel someone's hand on your arm.
"Y/N, come sit. Coriolanus's speech is about to start, he got me to save you a seat at my table." Sejanus says, linking his arm with yours.
You politely excuse yourself from the conversation and allow him to pull you away. "Many thanks." You whisper to him, chuckling slightly as you glance back over your shoulder at the older man you were speaking to. "Some people are so tone-deaf, aren't they?"
"Most definitely." He sighs, shaking his head as he guides you toward his table at the front of the banquet hall, close to the stage. "Apparently that will never change."
Sejanus Plinth was your saving grace all these years, that, however, had never changed. You didn't see him as much anymore, with you being locked up in your office in the Snow penthouse focused on writing book after book until you were burnt out. His role as a doctor in and out of the Districts certainly didn't help either, but you knew he was partial to working back home in Twelve so he could spend more time with Lucy Gray. You were glad he was much more fulfilled in his adult life than you were; you always knew he would do well and you were proud. You had to take moments every so often to remind yourself that when you first met him and Coryo, you had been sad that you wouldn't get to see the men they would become but you had wondered. Now, you had your answers.
"Is that not the truth." You scoff under your breath, smiling and giving a quick wave to a few familiar faces as you pass. You had become somewhat of a people-pleasing expert, the same way Coriolanus had.
You sit down at the table at the front of the room just as the lights slightly dim, and the spotlight hits the stage. You gently cross one leg over the other, careful not to wrinkle your dress and clap in just the perfect polite way you had learned how to over the years, smiling as you see Coryo walk up onto the stage.
He waves, and people whistle and clap, and the smile on his face seems a little more genuine than it normally is during these speeches. Of course, though, this is his final address before he no doubt gets voted in as president, and you know that he is excited.
"Hello, everyone. Thank you so much for coming out tonight..." He says, in a subtle cue to get people to quiet down so he could speak, a drink still in his hand that he delicately hovers above the podium next to him. "This has been such an incredible opportunity for both of us running, and I must say, it's been fun." He tips the glass toward the other table at the front, and your eyes follow the movement to the other candidate, your friend and former classmate, Hilarius Heavensbee. They've never gotten along, and you know Hilarius wants nothing to do with this job. Not really. It makes you sad, a little bit, that his family would push him this far when he had confided in you in his freshman year that it wasn't what he wanted.
The man just gives Coryo a polite but nervous smile, taking another sip out of his own champagne glass. From where you were, you could see his hand trembling. You knew he would have to go next, and Coriolanus Snow was always a tough act to follow.
"Now, I am very happy about this turnout, because I have two important announcements to make." He continues, and whispers fill the room. You look over at Sejanus, a slight look of shock on your face. You didn't know he had anything special to announce, and he always kept you in the loop on everything. Sejanus just shrugs, looking back up at Coryo again. It must not actually be a big deal- it was probably just thanking some more people who have donated to his campaign.
"Firstly," He clears his throat, taking a step to the side as the screen behind him lights up. "For just a moment, see me as your head game maker and forget all about me running for president. Or don't, actually, maybe keep that in mind, but at the back of your mind." He chuckles, the little joke making the audience laugh. He was much more personable now than he once was, you smile a little as you remember helping him write his earlier speeches in a way that would make him more likable. "With the help of my fellow candidate and personal good friend, we are trying something new when it comes to The Hunger Games."
When he speaks, your heart drops and you sit up a little straighter- feeling all eyes on you as you just focus on him. For the first time, he looks down at you and gives you a small smile, the slightest nod in an effort to reassure you that it wasn't as scary as it sounded. You swallow and just keep your smile on as best as you can, ignoring all the stares.
"So, we all love The Games. They're exciting, the stakes are high, and I know every year we all pick our favourite tributes to root for and it's hard to watch them fall but, god, do I know better than anyone how good it feels when they win." Your cheeks burn intensely as Coryo sends a smile and a wink your way, and the screen behind him flashes to a picture of the two of you, taken after your shared university graduation just a couple of years ago. You were both smiling, but he was looking at you as he held you tight around your waist, and you looked into the camera and held up a three-finger salute. People are laughing and awe-ing at the photo of the two of you, and you laugh nervously, looking over at Sejanus with slightly panicked eyes.
You would be absolutely fine with this if he had just run it by you before, and you knew that whether you liked it or not, the Games were an integral part of who you were now, and always would be- but you certainly didn't want your name on anything to do with these new changes they're making. But, he wouldn't be talking about you at all if he knew you would hate it. You had to remind yourself of that.
"So, you all know my beautiful Y/N, of course, we're all big fans of hers here," Coryo says, gesturing to where you were sitting and you let out a nervous laugh, shaking your head at him in a way that would appear teasing to everyone else while he waits for everyone to finish clapping for you. "Don't get embarrassed already, darling, I've got a bit more to say about you so just sit tight, okay? Nothing bad, I promise." He says to you, looking into your eyes even as he stands up on the stage, everyone's laughter echoing in the background.
"So, I have known Y/N and her outstanding mind for years now. The Games are what brought us together when we were both just kids, but you all already know that story so I'll spare you the details. The bottom line is, I am so proud of the woman she has become. She's written two books that will soon become three, she graduated in the top three percent of our class with only a District education to build on, and she is the single most well-spoken, well-mannered, beautiful, and caring woman I have ever met. Truly, she has changed my entire outlook on life." He says, talking more so to the audience than to you, knowing that you're so embarrassed by this. And he would be correct. "It has truly been a privilege to know her, and to love her."
"But that was a long journey for us both, and a seemingly endless uphill battle for her recovery, despite her strength. The Games can be scary, let's be totally honest. It's life or death, and winning will change you, but Y/N came out the other side and wanted to make a difference for her family and that inspired me. And she continues to inspire me every day." Coryo says, pausing to take a sip of his champagne again. "So, all of this is to say, I'd like to thank her for all her support through my education, this campaign, and through the life we're building together. She inspired this idea in me and with the help of my fellow game makers as well as the Plinth family..." You look over at Sejanus as he continues, suddenly realizing he must have known about what was happening. He keeps a small smile on his lips as he watches, refusing to make eye contact with you.
"This," Coryo says, turning to look up at the screen while a picture comes up of a small cul-de-sac of beautiful homes. "Is just the beginning of the Victor's Rehabilitation Initiative."
You tilt your head, a shocked and confused smile on your face as you take in the photo and try to decipher what he's talking about.
"So, recently, Y/N has been more open with everyone about the struggles that came with being crowned a victor in our Games. Yes, they get to walk away with their lives, but what if winning meant something more? What if it meant security for them and their families, so they're not returning to their Districts with no sense of what to do next? That, everyone, is what this program is for. To help the strongest of them find a purpose again, and to encourage the bravest of Panem's children to get back on their feet after such an impressive feat as winning the Games."
You have to very consciously force your jaw to stay shut when you realize what he is saying, clapping along with everyone else while your smile relaxes into something more genuine. You knew that he wanted to abolish the Games altogether, and you knew that no matter who won the election, they wouldn't proceed for much longer. This was the first step in that direction, and you were flooded with emotions. Pride, excitement, relief.
"For ten years, until the beginning of the mentorship program, our victors were cast aside. Never to be heard from again after their win, I, for one, became curious as to what happened to them after the Games as soon as I met Y/N, and I have heard that question from many of you as well since we were all given the pleasure of getting to know her." Coryo's smile is one of pride and excitement, sparing a glance at you as he allows the audience to have their responses. So far, all seemingly positive despite the present undertones of him caring about the people in the Districts. He was a smooth talker, he knew exactly how to command a space and get people to believe what he wanted. And he was using it for good. "I mean, how many other victors have something extraordinary, just like her, that won't be utilized or nurtured? We never knew."
"From now on," He continues, the crowd quieting down. "Our victors will be given homes in what we've decided to call Victor's Villages in each of the Twelve Districts. They'll have ensured security for themselves and their families, and a generous sum of prize money to help them with whatever they need. Whether that's medical attention, both physical and emotional, or, if they so choose, when they reach the appropriate age, they could apply at our university to further their education. Though, between you and I, admittance is not guaranteed." He winks at the end and it's accompanied by laughter, which you try and go along with, but you're too close to tears to even process fully what was going on. This was a huge step in the right direction, even if like he said, acceptance was not guaranteed. "What I mean, is that it will be up to them. They can live their lives to the fullest, just like our gem, Y/N."
He looks at you again, and you can really only see his blurry form through your tears until someone is handing you a handkerchief to dry your eyes while people clap and cheer over the idea.
This was something you couldn't have imagined years ago. This was everything you've wanted since the Games- to make a difference, for people to care. And it was happening right before your eyes. Thanks to him. Thanks to you.
"And with that," Coryo says after a few moments, waiting for the crowd to quiet down after taking in your reaction. "We can move on to my second announcement, which is my formal withdrawal from the presidential campaign."
Gasps fill the room and your smile disappears, a hand coming up to your mouth as you look up at him, shocked and confused with the announcement that blindsided even you.
"Are you happy here?" You ask quietly, not wanting to disturb the peace of the evening as you walk from your parent's house back to your own in the Victor's Village.
"I couldn't be happier." Coryo replies through a soft sigh, swinging your hand gently as it's clasped between you.
"Are you sure?" You say again, feeling a little uncertain despite weeks of his endless reassurance that this was, in fact, what he wanted.
To him, this scenario was perfect. He could keep his job as head gamemaker, planning to only return to the Capitol for a few months or so every year for the Games. He knew that wouldn't last much longer, though, not with Hilarius Heavensbee in office. Coryo gives it a few years and a few major "accidental" mistakes on his part for the viewership of the annual event to die out and open the door for the president to call them off, just like he had always wanted to.
And every day Coryo would wake up to see you in your happy place, the only place you'd ever felt truly at home. He was more than happy to give it all up for the greatest sake of seeing you smile.
"Of course." He smiles, never growing tired of telling you the same thing over and over again if it meant he could ease your mind.
The moonlight bounces off his in a way that makes you think it could be glowing if you didn't know any better.
"I told you that I would be. Years ago. You remember?"
"Of course I remember."
He lets out a breathy laugh at your reply, shaking his head. "That was a foolish question. I don't think you've ever forgotten a single word anyone has ever spoken to you."
"Sure I have." You say, tilting your head as you look up at him, trying to catch the same moonlight reflect in the blue of his eyes as you walk down the path. "I just don't forget... the important bits."
"I will try my best to take care of you while you're here."
"My honest, best advice? Figure out a way to escape."
"I can't have killed them all for nothing."
"You are not a beast."
"Please, don't walk away again."
"I survived because I had to learn to love you."
"Like in your books?" His voice interrupts the swirling of speech from years past, and you shrug.
"Not exactly... it feels different. Because I can hear it, still." You explain, voice dropping into something more quiet as the remnants of your fear eats away at the back of your mind, the cold night breeze imprinting your skin.
"God, the way your mind works, love." He says, and as you look up at him to be met with an expression of pride that always changes everything. "You amaze me every day."
You stay quiet, cheeks getting hot as you look back down at the path.
"Are you happy?" Coryo asks after a moment, eyes never daring to leave your profile as you walk next to him, hardly more than a silhouette in the dark. But certainly more than a ghost, now.
"I am." You reply, the smile creeping back onto your lips. "Such hours are beautiful to live, but hard to describe..."
He hums softly in response. That was a yes, but also a no in the most you fashion possible. His heart remains heavy in his chest knowing that there is nothing more he can do for you to help you heal besides be present. "Is there anything more I can do?" He asks anyway, hoping that maybe you would come up with something.
You shake your head, giving him a tight-lipped smile laced with reassurance.
"Well, then..." He sighs, rather dramatically. "I did have an idea, you know, something that might make you happy. Even just for this one beautiful hour."
You let out a laugh, squeezing his hand a bit. "If that was you asking me if we could-"
"I would like to marry you." He says, for the first time ever, not feeling guilty about interrupting you.
You stop in your tracks, and he stops with you instantly as if he were waiting for it, his hold on your hand not faltering for a second.
"I... you-"
"Darling," He starts, stepping in front of you now, blocking out the moon but hardly putting a dent in the presence of the stars over his shoulders, their soft light reflecting off his blonde curls. "I do love nothing in the world so well as you."
Your shock and confusion begins to wear off as he speaks the familiar words, and you laugh softly. "In your own words, Coryo."
He tilts his head at you, clearly not having expected that kind of response. He expected a lot of things. He planned for everything that could go wrong, he prepared for rejection, for tears, panic, even, but he did not expect that. "I, uh..." He chuckles nervously, giving his head a quick shake to get himself back on track.
He had read that play just for you. Just for this- because he knew how much you loved it, and he remembered the joy it brought you. The smile on your face when you told him about it that day at the lake had never left his mind.
"If you ask me in your own words, I shall say yes." You assure him, hands gripping tighter onto his despite your surprisingly calm demeanor.
"I thought you would like that... You know, knowing you..."
He's quick to defend himself, and your eyes almost sparkle as you look up into his own. "We should have learned by now that our story is our own, yes?" You ask. "We are not Beatrice and Benedick, or Laurie and Amy, or even Romeo and Juliet, just like I used to think we were supposed to be when my days were numbered. I thought I wanted one of those stories to be mine at least once before I died, but I was wrong." You say, taking in the embarrassed flush of his cheeks even in the dim lighting. "You are you, and I am me. No matter what you say I will be happy to marry you, so long as you ask me yourself, and not as someone else."
"Alright then." He gives you a curt nod, a smile on his face as he lowers himself in front of you, careless of the dirt that would no doubt cake into the knee of his pants. "You're everything to me, Y/N/N. My world... my heart, my soul. I didn't know what love was until I met you. I've spent the entirety of my adult life learning to love you, and I never intend to stop. Not even for a moment, so please, let me marry you, love."
"A Coryo indeed." You say softly, recalling the first day you had met him- when you only knew him as Coriolanus, and how far you both had come since then. The growing smile on your lips twitches and you nod, holding his hand a little tighter and attempting to pull Coryo back to his feet. "Of course I will. Nothing would make me happier."
He stands again and very quickly his arms are around you, holding you just as tight as they always had.
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thanks again for being here.
xx, raye
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megalony · 10 months ago
Text
Beautiful Destruction
This is a new Evan Buckley series I am hoping to work on, I hope everyone will like it. Feedback always spurs me on and makes my day, let me know what you think.
Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii  @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff
911 Masterlist
Part 2
Summary: Evan's self-destruct behaviour lands him in therapy, where he connects with (Y/n). Everything starts changing when she transfers to the 118 and their worlds collide.
Enjoy.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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"I thought it was you,"
A shiver ran down the base of Evan's spine and his fingers curled tighter around the paper cup in his hand.
He recognised that voice. He had heard that voice somewhere before; it was like trying to recall a memory hours after waking up. But Evan did know her. He had heard that sweet tone before, it was like a lullaby in the back of his mind.
His head turned to the right and his chest tightened for a moment when he felt a hand trail across the back of his shoulder and around his arm. He watched her move, swiftly, angelic, until she was standing on his left in front of the refreshment table with him. He noticed the height difference first; she barely came up to his shoulder and that rung a distant bell in the back of his mind. But when her head tilted up and he caught sight of those eyes, his lips quirked into a smile.
The Christmas party.
That was where he had heard that voice and seen those mesmerising eyes before. She was the girl he went home with.
Evan could barely remember that party if he was being totally honest with himself. He hadn't been on shift and the party had been held at a different station for a change. Evan had downed one too many drinks, giving himself liquid courage to talk to anyone who approached him. This girl had been the one. She struck up a conversation with him and before he knew what was happening, he found himself dragging her out of there.
He didn't know how he managed to find his way home but somehow they got there alright. The rest of the night was a blur, but it didn't take a genius to guess what had happened. It was what usually happened when Evan found himself drinking away his anxiety and going on self destruct.
"I'm surprised to see you here," Her voice serenaded Evan until he realised he was staring down at her with a tender smile, but not actually saying anything or acknowledging her.
His heart did another leap in his chest when she darted her eyes around before leaning in close to whisper, "Fire hose, right?"
Oh God, what had he said to her that night?
That was a nickname he got when he was first on the job and it wasn't something that had stuck, thankfully. Evan must have been a lot worse off than he thought.
His lips pulled into a worried smile and he tilted his head down and tried to control his hands so he could pour some coffee into his empty paper cup. His tongue darted out over his lips and he leaned across, silently filling her own cup when she held it out to him.
"I told you that, huh?"
"Not quite… that's the name you put with your number in my phone." It was hard for (Y/n) to stop her lips from curving into a grin around her cup as she took a swig of coffee. She had been pleasantly surprised to look through her phone the next morning and find that instead of his name, that was what he decided to save his contact number as.
"Let's change it to Evan, shall we?" He dragged his eyes over her shirt for a second before he looked back up at her smile.
(Y/n). Her name was (Y/n), he could remember that now.
Her number was in his phone but in his drunken state, Evan hadn't remembered to add her name in. They had exchanged a few messages since their hook up at Christmas, but neither of them had met up again. The Christmas and New Year period were very hard for their line of work and kept them both busy.
"I um, I haven't seen you here before. Are you okay?"
(Y/n) brushed a strand of hair behind her ear as she turned her back to the table and looked over towards the middlle of the hall. The chairs were just being set up into a rough circle and the usual members of the group were plodding in. Not many people got a drink before their session started, everyone usually found their selected seat and got sat down straight away.
She hadn't seen Evan here before. (Y/n) hadn't been to many meetings, she started coming just before Christmas and Evan hadn't been here then or anytime since.
She debated reaching her hand out to touch his shoulder but refrained herself and moved her arm to wrap around her chest instead.
"My sister thought I could use some help, reccomended this place." Evan wouldn't have chosen to come here of his own volition, but he would do anything for his sister. And to stop her worries and calm her down, he came here when she gave him the leaflet and suggested it at least three times.
"I'm glad you're here."
Her words took Evan by surprise. His eyes followed her as she started to walk towards the seats, leaving Evan behind her with a loose jaw and swirling emotions flooding through his pupils.
With his cup in one hand and his other hand tucked into his back pocket, he followed after her with a slow pace and his heels dragging against the polished floor. He watched everyone take their seats and he moved to the empty space which just so happened to be directly opposite (Y/n).
It gave Evan a perfect view of the girl he had thought about more than once over these past few weeks.
He leaned to the right and placed his cup down beside his chair before he tried to get comfy. His back slouched down, his knees spread wide and his hands clasped together, hanging between his thighs. He didn't know how to sit or what to do with himself.
And Evan found his eyes dancing across to (Y/n) more than once.
She was sat with her legs crossed beneath her and her back set straight. Both her hands were planted on her knees and made her look like she was meditating, and maybe she was. Maybe that was her way of staying calm and getting through these sessions.
There weren't many people who enjoyed meeting a group of strangers and talking about their problems.
"Okay, we have a new face among us today. Would you like to introduce yourself?"
Evan lifted his head and looked around the room again. Everyone was sat down now, there were nine other people and the group leader here. He didn't want to be called out. It made him feel like he was back in school, like he was the new kid. He stuck out like a sore thumb to everyone here when all his life, Evan only wanted to fit in.
He stretched his fingers out and started to rub his palms up and down his trousers, wiping the sweat off his hands that were now cold and numb with panic.
He could feel his heart hammering away in his chest and the leaflet crumpled in his back pocket was burning its way through to his skin like he was sat on a meteorite.
"My name's Evan." He smiled despite himself and did a quick, unsettling sweep around the room, taking in the faces of the other nine people sat here with him.
Evan wasn't one for big introductions and he didn't know if he was supposed to go off into a big tangent straight away or wait until his turn. Evan needed to know how they did things here, what their sense of normal was and how he was supposed to act and open up. Were there topics they talked about? Was he supposed to say whatever was on his mind? What should he do?
"Welcome. We're all glad you're here."
Somehow, he doubted that. Evan doubted everyone in this hall would be pleased to have a new, unfamiliar face here to learn their secrets and terrors and silently judge them. He could just feel the unease they were all trying to keep well hidden. A stranger was sitting among them, they would have to open up to someone else who was new and strange and possibly a threat or a danger to their sanity.
The only thing that was calming Evan down from a panic attack was the fact that he knew someone here.
(Y/n). She was here, she had a reason for being here and she was getting help the same way Evan was now trying to do. This was a new world but Evan wasn't totally alone here like he thought he would be.
"I know it might be daunting, your first time here. Do you want to explain why you've decided to come today?"
Evan scrutinised the name written in biro on the session leader's name tag. Harold. He didn't look like a Harold, the name didn't suit him. He was a tall, lanky man in his forties with a receeding hairline and thick rimmed glasses that took up too much of his face. But he seemed kind. His eyes were compassionate which was something Evan didn't see a lot of.
With pursed lips, Evan straightened up in his chair and dug his nails into his knees to try and calm down the panic radiating through his system.
"I… I'm spiralling again, and I don't know what to do. My sister told me about this place. She uh, she found me passed out with bottles and broken picture frames scattered around, and I don't remember why."
His hand brushed beneath his nose before he leaned back and clicked his spine into place.
It hadn't been one of Evan's proudest moments, waking up sometime in the afternoon with Maddie hovering over him. He had fallen asleep on the couch, at least three different spirit bottles lying empty on the floor around him and most of his pictures broken and scattered on the floor. And Evan couldn't remember why he had gone into a rampage or what had set him off. He didn't remember most of the night.
Maddie gave him a choice. He started coming to meetings and tried to let people help him, or she would be round his apartment every day to keep an eye on him.
He wouldn't worry her like that so here he was.
"And what do you do, when you spiral?"
Evan wished he wasn't the first person to be talking today. He wanted to know why everyone else was here, what their triggers were and how they fell out of control.
This group was generalised. It wasn't an alcoholics anonymous or a gambling session or narcotics. It was for a range of people who worked within the emergency services. People who had stressful jobs who were struggling, mostly due to the job but also just because of life. This was a counselling session to try and help people learn different ways to cope and have an outlet to talk.
"I get destructive."
"How so?"
"I binge drink, usually when I'm anxious…" Evan let his eyes lift up from his hands for a few seconds. Long enough to latch his eyes onto (Y/n) and find that she was looking right at him. They seemed to be thinking the same thing.
Christmas. He had been drinking a lot at the Christmas party.
Was (Y/n) part of his self destruct that night? Did he take her home because he needed an outlet?
Then again, (Y/n) hadn't been her best self either. Did she do the same to him?
"I don't… I don't always care about my safety. I'm a fireman and I, I'll run into any situation without thinking it through. I guess, I see myself as disposable. Who cares what happens to me, right?"
Evan knew he had people who cared about him. He had his big sister, he had Eddie who was like a brother to him and he had Bobby and Athena who were like his surrogate parents, but that didn't help as much as Evan wanted it to. His life was never cared for, his sister raised him when his parents couldn't find the will to care about what happened to him.
People used and disposed of Evan like he was nothing, all of his relationships proved that.
When he spiralled, he got to the point of being at ease with running into a burning building and knowing he might not come back out. He didn't always listen to Bobby's orders, he went off of what he thought he should do and he acted before he could think everything through. Evan lived his life like dying wasn't a real problem.
He played roulette with his life and the possibility of getting hurt didn't phase or worry him like it should. He went numb to it after a while.
"What triggers these spirals, Evan?"
"The people around me. I get so scared of losing them… a friend of mine got hurt on the job and he almost died. He has a family, people who depend on him, but if it had been me, that would have been easier for everyone else."
Evan had gone off the rails when Eddie got shot a few months back. When he wasn't looking after Chris, he was drowning his sorrows and becoming less and less cautious and safe when he was on the job. If he had been the one to get shot, Chris's safety and environment wouldn't have been in danger. He would still have had Eddie come home to him. Eddie's parents weren't the best, but they cared about him.
No one would have to worry if it was Evan who had been shot. He wished he could have taken that bullet. It might have changed things for his own parents as well as how he viewed himself.
Harold seemed to sense that Evan wasn't willing to say much more about it before he nodded and shifted to face the rest of the group, taking the attention off of Evan.
"Thank you for sharing. Can anyone else relate to this self-destruct mode?"
"Sometimes."
(Y/n) bowed her head and started dragging her nails across the back of her hand, scratching the few scabs on her knuckles until they flaked off. She could understand Evan's need to have a drink and wash away the panic. She could relate to going on shift and becoming less self-aware and more open to the idea of being hurt.
"(Y/n), go ahead." The surprise was clear in Harold's voice. The past two sessions, (Y/n) had been as quiet as a door mouse and refused to speak. And the previous session, she had only said that something had happened at work. She wasn't willing to expand on that or explain how it made her feel and no one had pushed her.
But hearing Evan open up despite this being his first session, and relating to his situation, made (Y/n) more willing to talk today.
She dropped her legs down so her feet were touching the floor and kept her eyes on her hands. (Y/n) never knew where to look when she spoke and nine times out of ten, she ended up having awkward eye-contact with someone while she reeled off her monologue.
"I don't want to say how I self-destruct… but I'm willing to explain why."
"That's okay, tell us what's been going on."
"I'm a firefighter too and, we had a call out a few weeks ago… burning building, the usual evacuate tactic. But I got trapped, I needed help and a guy on the team, he chose to help someone else. I mean, I was okay in the end, I got out myself but… it cemented things for me."
"How so?"
"It proved they didn't pick me; my team were never going to pick me. No one had my back, you know?" (Y/n) rolled her lips together and swiped her sleeve across her eyes to collect the tears starting to fall. "How do I go back to work knowing it's me looking out for myself? So I destruct, and I- I don't want to, I don't want to be in pain but I think, if I destruct, someone will notice. Someone will have my back and stop me. No one does."
(Y/n) didn't want to explode on herself. She didn't want to end up hurting herself and putting herself in harm's way and rushing into a tough scene at work when she should hang back and wait. But the more she destructed herself, the more she thought someone would notice.
Someone would come to her aid and hold her and tell her it was okay because they had seen her and they would look out for her. And when no one came to her aid, the cycle repeated itself.
"Have you spoken to anyone at work about it?"
(Y/n) nodded. She wasn't willing to open up about that either. She didn't want to see their judgement if she told them she had requested a transfer to a different station.
It wasn't just because she had been left in danger, it was the fact that no one seemed willing to help her.
(Y/n) had begged for help over the radio, she was trapped and couldn't get out and the fire was directly above her on a floor that was about to collapse. She had to fight her own way out of that building. She couldn't go back to working alongside people who weren't willing to look out for her. (Y/n) wasn't able to always look out for herself in every situation and she couldn't keep defending herself when a team was supposed to share that effort and care for each other.
"And that's what irritates you, that need to be seen and heard and picked, to have someone put you first."
Harold's words sparked something within Evan and he couldn't stop himself from looking up at (Y/n). He clamped his teeth down on his tongue to refrain from speaking. It wasn't his place to talk or add an input, he was here to listen.
But he was so desperate to tell her.
To tell her that he would have her back. He would pick her, he would put her first if she was on his team. If she worked with him, (Y/n) would never have to fear that no one would come back for her. The 118 would have her back any day of the week, at work or not. She would never have to put herself in harm's way to be seen by them.
(Y/n) lifted her head but she was taken back by Evan's piercing gaze that tore through her. It was like he was trying to send her a silent message but she wasn't getting what he was saying.
Her hands started to scratch along her thighs and she looked down at her knees as she nodded.
"I just… I don't see how you can pick and choose. If we start deciding who lives and who dies, we shouldn't be in the job anymore." (Y/n) knew certain situations meant they had to pick who was a priority and who to help, but it wasn't always like that.
No one chose to come back for her, no one thought it was their duty. They decided (Y/n) wasn't worthy, they didn't pick her and they chose to stand back and to help someone else. Why was it okay to choose to go against her but it wasn't okay to choose to help her?
Their job was to save everyone, not be selective. The day they became selective over their casualties was the day they needed to quit.
"Am I not worth saving?"
"Everyone is worth saving, and that's why you're here. So we can save you."
(Y/n)was happy when the session ended. She liked coming here, talking things through helped, especially when she knew what she said was confidential and she never saw these outside of the meetings. It meant she wasn't at risk of them passing on what she said to other people in her life.
She slung her bag on her shoulder and walked towards the hall doors, throwing her cup in the bin before she walked out into the hallway. Everyone else was still inside grabbing a drink or having a little chat before they left.
(Y/n) crossed her arms over her chest and looked around, unsure whether to stand and collect herself here in the silent corridor or whether to just start her walk home.
"Hey," Her body jumped when a soft voice spoke in her ear and a hand landed on her shoulder.
She jolted to the left and looked up to see Evan towering over her, a timid smile on his face that made him look like a gentle giant. Her eyes followed him as he leaned his shoulders back against the wall and pressed one foot into the wall. His calm, relaxed stance made the tension fade away from (Y/n) and she nudged her shoulder into his with a small smile before she copied his stance and leaned her shoulders back.
"Hi."
"So… what are the rules here? Is this like AA, keep things anonymous, no talking outside of meetings?"
Evan didn't know how they did things here. He didn't know if things were supposed to be kept anonymous. They knew first names but no one said their last names here and he would guess that no one met up outside this meeting hall.
"I don't know, there's no specific rules about that. Why, wanna go for a drink?" (Y/n) tilted her head back and sunk her teeth down into her bottom lip while Evan slid his hand into his back pocket.
"Maybe."
"Your place or mine?"
Evan couldn't work out if she was being serious or if she was just humouring him and trying to break the air a little. The way she dropped her head onto his arm made him suck in a deep breath and when she looked up at him like that and batted those lashes at him, his knees went weak. He hoped she wasn't joking.
"You know if… if you were on my team, I'd pick you. You're worth saving." Evan dropped his chin down to his shoulder to look at her and he thought he'd said the wrong thing when he noticed her eyes were glazed over.
"Why?"
Her lips pressed together and her chin tilted up to meet Evan halfway when he leaned down to get as close as he could. (Y/n) could feel his nose nudging hers and the look in his eyes was almost frightening. Her head and neck started to shake when she felt his fingertip graze up her neck and around to her chin.
"You don't have to have a reason to be saved." He didn't have to have a reason. There was nothing to say that (Y/n) had to do something worthy in order for people to look out for her and help her. Evan would save her whether she was someone he knew or whether she was a complete stranger.
It was what everyone deserved. Every person deserved to be saved, that was the motto of their job, the rule they lived by. They couldn't pick and choose, they helped everyone regardless of who they were and what they did.
But Evan didn't have to have a reason, he instinctively knew he would always pick (Y/n) if she needed him to. He wouldn't leave her trapped and alone, he would go back for her.
He was surprised by her grip when her fingers scrunched up in his shirt and she reeled him closer until their lips touched.
Evan could taste the coffee on her tongue and the cherry lip balm coating her bottom lip. He could feel her nails scratching into his chest and her body pressing up against his until he was pinned back against the wall. His hands moved to cup her hips, both to keep her where she was and to steady her so she didn't slip against him. His hands scrunched around her curves and his nose bumped hers when he pushed down against her.
Maybe this wasn't the best idea.
They were two catalysts, ready to combine and explode and errupt all over the place. They weren't in the best mind frames right now and neither of them wanted to use the other. Evan used sex and alcohol and danger to combust and regulate and it wasn't something he was proud of. He didn't want to do that and hurt (Y/n) in the process.
But the way she was kissing him made it hard to resist. He loved the taste of her lips and the feeling he got when he sank his teeth down into her lip. He loved the way her hands grasped his shoulders when he turned them around so (Y/n) was the one with her back to the wall instead of him.
And he loved the feeling of swallowing up her words when she spoke in hushed, breathless pants against his lips. "So, your place or mine?"
***
"Buck, you coming? Bobby's got the new recruit downstairs."
Hen's voice pulled Evan from his thoughts and stopped him from dragging his fingers through his hair to the point he was almost gathering clumps between his fingers.
He lifted his head up and managed a smile, moving away from the table so he could follow her out the kitchen and over to the stairs. He forgot they were getting a new recruit.
In all fairness, Evan wasn't sure he wanted them to have a new recruit at the station. It took him a while to get used to new people and the last few recruits they had hadn't lasted very long. Lucy had been here for a month, if that. Ravi was in and out, always here and there and never around for long. The guy Hen referred to as 'Monday' was definitely out.
No one stuck around for long and Evan liked the team just the way it was. He didn't want to have to make a new friend and try to learn someone else's tactics and ways of doing the job. He didn't want someone else around to get in the way and slow them down and make things difficult.
Evan plodded down the stairs with his hands in his pockets and his head tilted down. He followed a foot behind Hen towards the fire truck where Eddie and Chimney were already gathered and waiting.
"Alright team, this is our newest member of the team, transferred over from the two-ninety. Meet (Y/n)."
Evan's head bolted up so fast he almost got whiplash when that made rang through his ears. His hands dug through his pockets into his thighs and his shoulders tensed up when he locked his eyes on that oh so familiar frame. He dragged his gaze up her body until he was looking into those piercing eyes that weren't holding their usual intrigue and hope.
There was something different in her eyes today; it wasn't quite panic, but it was close.
An almost cocky grin spread across Evan's face as he reached one hand up to rub his jaw and the corner of his mouth. He could feel all the words burning on the tip of his tongue. Every little quick remark and little jibe he could make to tease her and allude to something without actually admitting anything to the team.
He wouldn't do it to embarrass her, it was the playful side of Evan coming out to play. But everything he wanted to say fizzled out when he looked over at (Y/n) and she darted her eyes from side to side like she was trying to tell him something. He didn't know what she was trying to say, but he could see the nervousness radiating through her when she brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
"This is Eddie, Chimney, Hen, and that's Buck."
"It's great to meet you all."
"Now I expect you all to make my daughter feel welcome at our station."
Evan could feel his mouth going dry and his throat began to close up as his eyes darted over to look at Bobby.
Oh God. That had to be a joke. Bobby had to be pulling their strings, trying to tease them and get one over on them. This couldn't be his daughter. He never said she was one of them, that she was a firefighter too. Bobby never mentioned what her name was or what she looked like or that she was so close by and about to transfer here.
How had Evan slept with Bobby's daughter- more than once, and not known?
He didn't catch (Y/n)'s last name when he was at the Christmas party, he couldn't have done or he would have known who she was and he wouldn't have taken her home out of respect for Bobby. He didn't know her name at their meeting either because they only said their first names. And no one really had contact outside of meetings.
This was great. He had slept with the Captain's daughter who was now going to be working with them. How could he work alongside her now? How could he remain professional? What was he supposed to do and say?
He didn't realise he was the only one still stood there until he looked up and everyone else was moving away. Hen and Chimney followed Bobby up the stairs, shouting after him and demanding an explanation while their captain laughed and carried on walking. And Eddie directed (Y/n) over to the locker room before he went ahead into the gym.
Moving from his frozen state, Evan picked up the pace until he was jogging past the ambulance and bolting into the locker room. He watched (Y/n) for a few seconds. She was stood with her back to him, putting her things in the locker on the far right that was spare.
"Hey," Evan leaned his right arm on the edge of her locker and jutted one hip out as his left hand moved to rest on his waist. He tilted his head to the side and brushed his forehead against his arm, waiting patiently until (Y/n) closed her locker.
She let herself drop to the left and slump into her locker, binding her arms across her chest. Her head stayed level with his chest and her eyes focused on the chain hanging around his neck to distract herself.
"You… are you really Bobby's daughter?"
"Hm. Is that a problem?" (Y/n)'s tone wasn't crude or insinuating but when she darted her eyes up, Evan could see the worry swirling around in them.
"No! No, but it complicates things… I should have asked your name at the party, I didn't think…" His hand moved from his hip to smooth over his temple. He could feel a headache forming behind his eyes making his upper lip curl in distaste. He shouldn't have let himself get so drunk he would take her home without even getting her last name or knowing anything about her.
"Maybe if I asked you yours I would have realised you were the Buck my dad always talks about."
It wasn't all Evan's fault. (Y/n) didn't ask him his last name either. He had introduced himself as Evan and that was enough. If he said he had a nickname of Buck or his last name was Buckley, (Y/n) might have figured out that he worked with her dad. That he was the kid her dad had taken a shine to and thought of as his son.
"Does Bobby know why you transferred here?" Evan couldn't believe Bobby would be so calm and collected if he knew (Y/n) was here because of what she talked about in their therapy session. He wouldn't be happy if he knew (Y/n) hadn't felt safe with her team and didn't feel like they were looking out for her.
"No. As far as you all know, I'm here for a fresh start with a good team."
"Okay." Evan scratched his jaw and clicked his neck into place before he leaned back down. He pressed s finger beneath (Y/n)'s chin and tilted her head up so their eyes were locked again. "You'll be alright here, we'll look out for you… I'll have your back."
"And I'll have yours." (Y/n) forced herself to smile as she reached her hand out and patted his chest.
That was that, then. They were going to be working alongside each other, and her dad. (Y/n) was integrating into a new team and whatever had gone on between her and Evan was going to be forgotten history. She would look out for him and keep him in line and he would look out for her and have her back. They would help each other out through this and their therapy sessions were going to be interesting.
Pushing off her locker, (Y/n)rubbed her sweating palms over her thighs and went to walk out the room. But she didn't get one foot past Evan before his hand moved out and cupped her chin. His finger stroked along her jaw and his thumb pressed into her cheek as he turned her head back so she was looking up at him again.
Adrenaline ignited in (Y/n)'s stomach and her fingertips started to turn numb when a clouded, hooded look took over Evan's eyes and his lips curved into a smile.
"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone about this, either."
(Y/n) braced her hand out on the locker to stop her knees giving way when Evan swooped down and conquered her lips. She could feel his teeth scraping against her lower lip and his tongue swiped out before he started to suck on her upper lip. His fingers stayed caressing her jaw and she felt his other hand hold her hip so he could pull her closer.
Both her hands moved to steady herself on his chest and she drank in each breath he tried to take until she made him dizzy.
Things really were going to get interesting.
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hotvintagepoll · 5 months ago
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At the end of the Dracula poll, will you explain how each of the cast influences the final tone of/ any minor plot changes to the movie?
oh I’m happy to do that right now!
-Jimmy Stewart grounds the movie and is a terrific pick for Jonathan because his career was full of stories of ordinary men set into slowly unraveling, reality-challenging environments that irrevocably change their characters and push them past their limits—there are sketches of what Jonathan goes through already present in It’s A Wonderful Life, Rear Window, even the Thin Man sequel he was in. Jimmy brings the tone of boy next door, Capra-esque hometown normalcy that slowly gets turned upside down as he meets…
-Gloria Holden as the Count! who is pure gothic horror but laced with psychological complexity, wants and needs that push beyond the typical Universal horror aesthetic. She’s a perfect transition into the fantasy side of the story because she can meet Jimmy in his reality world….but chooses not to.
-the brides can’t possibly meet Jimmy in reality! They’re Betty, Lauren and Marilyn! They’re ethereal next level bombshells and the first sign this movie might trend a little camp. I expect their scene to dip into dream sequence imagery, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Vincente Minelli is brought in just to stage their entrance.
-I am hugely embarrassed to say I have not seen enough of Setsuko Hara’s work to tell you how her Mina impacts the tone, though I suspect she brings a quiet, steady, subtle quality that contrasts with Judy Garland’s mannered but sincere Lucy. There is absolutely an unnecessary talent show scene early on that gets Lucy singing in front of a crowd of adoring concertgoers.
-Toshiro Mifune needs no introduction. His Quincey is blindingly sexy and always finds the good lighting in every shot.
-Vincent Price’s Seward and Veidt’s Renfield up the, ahh, bisexual undercurrents of their scenes together into new dimensions. I fear again the movie tips a little into camp here.
-Sidney Poitier’s Holmwood brings us back to grounded reality; his performance is rooted in calm, subtle realism, with only the occasional explosions into grand emotional sweeps. This balances him really well with Judy’s Lucy, where she brings a flighty magical transparency and he brings the depth, intelligence, and calm.
-Mary Philbin suddenly tips the movie into silent film territory and goes a bit avante-garde as the agonized mother. It would be nice to have a shot here where Jonathan realizes, in some way, that he is suddenly soundless as pipe organ music ramps up over the scene and he’s left voiceless: he can only speak again when it’s too late to save her, and the movie switches back to talkie mode.
We haven’t cast some other players yet but this is what I’m seeing so far from the electorate’s choices :D
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littlebabyyd0ll · 1 year ago
Text
KINKTOBER DAY FOUR, TRICK OR TREAT
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[i changed the plot after naming this fic, so it actually has nothing to do with trick or treating xoxo]
Your daddy takes you to a halloween party!
Daddy!Bucky x Little!Reader
Warnings: DDLG themes, lovesick Bucky, slight mention of troubled pasts.
You are responsible for your own media consumption. Enjoy!
Main Masterlist ! Kinktober 2023
On days like today, you feel like the most spoiled little girl ever. Days where you wake up in fresh sheets and next to the person that loves you the very most in the world. He treats you all day, kisses you awake and gets you dressed. Bucky’s a good man, a great man. Never once has he made you feel guilty or inadequate for all that he does for you, both as a boyfriend and as a caregiver. His heart is as big as the compound that you live in, and he reminds you every day that it is for you and you only. 
Your tortured pasts brought the two of you together, brought out his need to be relied on, to have someone to take care of, and brought out your need to feel tiny and helpless, to have someone to take care of you. 
You beam at him now, and he beams right back down at you. His hands are caressing your arms, slowly pulling down the sleeves of your princess costume into place. It’s pretty and pink, a shade like ballet slippers and decorated in the smallest, most minute of sparkles. He’s dressed you happily for halloween, a dress he picked out himself. Steve’s party was already in full swing, but he couldn’t help taking the extra time to make you look party-ready. 
He’s dressed up too, as a shining knight.
His costume is far more tacky and cheap, but he looks as handsome as ever. You squeal on the inside — you wish that you could convey the way that you feel when you’re in this headspace, when you feel this little. 
“Do you remember our rules, princess?” Your daddy asks, slowly spinning you around to lace up the back of your pretty pink dress. 
“We don’t talk to people we don’t know.” You recite, playing with your fingers slowly and idly. Bucky had spent the time painting them shimmering pink, even stooped your squirming so that they turned out perfectly. “Stay close to daddy the whole time. Ask daddy if I need anything.” 
He’s pleased, you can hear it in his tone. “And? One more, baby.” 
You wrack your brain for a moment, wriggling your toes in your frilly little socks. Then, it hits you like lightning, “oh! Gotta say thank you to Steve for having us.” 
“Good job.” Bucky muses, turning you back to face him. His hands can’t help but reach for your cheeks and squish them together, your puffy lips jutting out. “My best girl, huh? You’re such a good listener, baby, m’so proud of you.” 
You’re practically glowing. “Thank you, Daddy.” 
“You ready, sweet girl? Think you’ll be okay with Daddy and his friends?” 
You nod brightly and raise out a small hand. Your finger protrudes outwards and beacons Bucky’s to meet it. He does, of course, linking your fingers with a great smile. Your hand looks so small compared to his bionic one, and it’s so warm, warmer than you’d think. He’s all human, and all heart. 
He holds your hand as you enter Steve’s home, even keeps them connected when the blonde haired man brings him in for a hug. Your hands do lose their hold on one another when Steve’s arms swallow you whole, and when he holds you tight and lifts you up the ground. Steve’s love for you extends just as much as his love for Bucky — you saved his best friend, made his life all the more better. How could he not love you? 
Steve loves you in any way that you come, and when he sees the way that you grip tightly to your boyfriend and that wide-eyed look you hold, he knows that today is the smallest form of you that comes, and he couldn't be happier. The hug that he gives you is warm and all-encompassing. “My girl!” He sings out with a laugh, swaying you in his burly arms. The raven haired man watches you both with a smile on his face. “How’ve you been, huh? You been good for your daddy?”
“Uh huh!” 
“She’s always good.” Bucky insists as he takes you out of Steve's arms and plants you back onto the floor, where you instantly curl into his side. His warmth is brilliant compared to the late-october air. “My best girl, aren’t you, baby?”
“You want juice, honey, or some pop?” Your attention is stolen by Natasha, who opens her arms for a big hug. You tae her up on the offer, looking up for permission form your daddy to go and see the selection with Nat. Bucky gives you a nod and a kiss on the forehead, watching you go with a familiar look on his face. 
One of the upmost love, and upmost adoration.
The blond haired man watches the ordeal with a smile of his own. He chuckles, shaking his head, “She’s real good for you, man.”
“I know.” Bucky hums, watching you blush as Natasha compliments your princess costume and straightens up your tiara. He can just about make out you complimenting her kitty cat outfit over the music and chatter. “Best thing that ever happened to me.”
You don’t manage to thank Steve that night. 
Bucky carries you out of Steve’s home with his arm pushed under your butt and your tired arms loose around his neck. You’d been so good all night, obeyed by all your rules. You had stayed close to Bucky and his friends, answered all questions politely and even played board games with friends of friends. Your soul lights up the room, your giggle infectious and, just the same as every day, Bucky finds himself wondering how on earth he got to be so lucky. He’s lucky as your feet dangle around his hips and your drool dampens his shoulder. The play tiara is now sloped and wonky on your head, close to falling off. You look a bit of a mess, but the prettiest mess he’s ever seen. 
Bucky lifts your sleeping form out of the car with a grunt, and sighs when he gets through the front door. He might regret it in the morning, but he lays you in bed still dressed up in your little costume, but for now, he gets to stare down at you lovingly, in your purest form, and he gets to hear your beating heart. 
And for him, that is more than he could ever ask for.
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