#and only being paid for one of those roles
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
I will now actually answer VERY SINGLE QUESTION OF THIS XD
also i wrote this in an interview type style... you can also read this on my AO3 .... this is over 5000 words long gods help me ...........
Name: Ashryn De RivaÂ
Pronouns: They/She /HerÂ
Race: ElvenÂ
Faction: An Antivan Crow
Class: Mage
Specialization: Spellblade
Before The Veilguard
Where was Rook born? Who were their childhood family and friends? What did they spend their free time doing as a child? What did they want to be when they âgrew upâ if anything.
A: Uff good first question. Well, as far as I know I was born somewhere in Antiva, I don't really know where as I didn't really stay there for a long time. As a kid I didn't really have friends, like before I became a crow. I had other problems than who I should play with at the time. My mother was my only blood family I knew as she was taken with me. She was a slave for a Powerful Mage, and if I had to name a friend during that time I would say the stable boy, he was also a dalish captive but I heard he had been sold from Tevinter , or was he a present I don't really remember ⌠He was the one I could talk with and he hid me more than once when the Mages son was looking for me. What I wanted to be when I grew up? Mmmh another good question, free maybe? ( she laughs) No, I wanted to be powerful and able to help others. Actually I wanted to be Crow, I heard from the other slaves that there were those dark Asassines who would kill if you paid them enough. I actually used to save up any coin I could find, or steal, to pay them one day. In the end I didn't even save up enough to buy a loaf of fresh bread.( laughs again)
Where and how was Rook educated? What did they enjoy learning; what did they dislike learning? Who did they admire most? Who was an example of what not to do or be?
A: My Mother, bless her , tried her best to teach me things. Thanks to her I actually still speak elven, well to some extent. My magic abilities showed very early. I was still a little kid, maybe around the age of 7 or eight, so she also tried to teach me about those things even though she didn't have any magic gifts. She always said I got that from her father. The other slaves also tried to teach us young ones. IÂ snuck into the attic often, from there you could hear the teacher of the Mages son ramble for hours, while his student fell asleep most of the time.Â
How did they experience gender as a young person? Did they grow up in an environment of strict gender roles and expectations or were they allowed to be themselves?Â
A: IÂ never actively thought about being anything other than a woman, I am what I am and I like it. But I don't really care as to how people call me, okay maybe âheâ just doesn't fit with me but if they want to people can call me âtheyâ as well. ( shrugged) I don't really care.Â
My mother wasn't really strict about gender, she always said being me was enough. She even kind of adopted another young slave who had been shunned by the others, as she identified herself as a female, despite being born a male. Gods did I hate that girl, not because of this obviously but she wasn't the nicest person, when the adults were not around.Â
What was their take on sexuality as a young person? Did they experiment with romance or find it entirely uninteresting?
A: Again never actually thought about it. I liked men as a kid ⌠tho I never had a puppy love or how you call it⌠And after I joined the crows as a fledgling I started to notice how I felt for women ( shrugges ). I used to flirt with Teia as a young one just to annoy Viago, and I had a bit of a crush on her , but please don't tell him that. I want to live for a bit longer.
What was their take on spirituality as a young person? Did they grow up around one particular religion and if so how did that affect their beliefs?
A: I was fascinated by the veil and the fade as a kid. Loved to study on Spirits and things like that, so I would say I was fond of Spirits⌠oh you mean spirituality like religion⌠mmmmh i grew up with both elven gods and the maker. My mother taught me the tales of our ancestors and I loved hearing them. And the crows showed me the beliefs of the Maker. But I associate myself more with the elven beliefs I would say.Â
What childhood fear(s) did Rook carry with them into adulthood?
A: It's not really a fear but⌠I can't really swim that well, which is ironic when you think about where I grew up but the mage that owned me had this spell⌠Made you feel like you were drowning so I never went deeper than knee deep water till I was what? Like 17?Â
How did Rook become involved with their chosen faction? Who did they meet first, and how, and where, and why did they join up?
this is gonna take a while ( laughs) the first Crow I ever got to meet was Viago⌠I am not surprised as he is my house's Talon and something like my older brother, which he would never under any circumstances admit. I met him at a job of his. Okay maybe i have to further explain that. I met him after I ruined his contract by killing his target , who was also the Slave owning Mage I mentioned before⌠i dont think I'm actually gonna elaborate on that one, sorry. Let me have a few more secrets or surprises left. ( laughs)Â
Was Rook interested in finding a life partner of some kind when they joined their faction? Why? Who were their best friends and how did they meet? Who were their rivals, who did they trust?Â
A: Of course I want a live partner, but that's certainly not why I joined the crows. You die alone more often on the job than you find a spouse being an Assassin. Also I was only eleven, boys were disgusting at that age and growing up under Viagos keen eyes⌠It's a miracle I actually got to meet other beings other than snakes and other poisonous things. My best friends would actually be Teia and Viago. I know that's lame but its like that. I'm also close with Jacobus now⌠I hope I'm something to him like Viago was to me. My rivals mmmh all the other fledglings I guess, i don't know.Â
Did Rook have any scars or tattoos? Whatâs the story behind them?
A: I do have a few of either one. My most notable scars are the one on my nose and the one on my cheek up to my eyebrows. The nose one is actually quite embarrassing. I got it sneaking out of the De Riva mension when I was 16 to meet a merchant's son I found⌠rather interesting. Viago caught me and threw a book after me, hit me right in the face and had me falling off my BalconyâŚ. Right on his Motto being killed by my own stupidity.Â
On the cheek that one is fairly new got it fighting the Antaam 1 vs 20 to free their captives. That's how I meet Varric.Â
I also have one on my right shoulder and one on my neck that when a fledgling from another house tried to kill me⌠Got damn near close to it, but let's just say I'm a Crow and he's not.Â
For tattoos I have my Vallasin , my mother gave it to me when my Magic began showing, and I also have a snake on my chest for the way Viago and the De Rivas saved my life. My house tattoo is on my right wrist.
Did Rook ever strongly identify with a particular nationality, city, race, creed, or religion? Is this something they explored on their own or a tradition that was passed down to them? Did this identity evolve as they grew into adulthood?
A: I am an elf, so of course I identify with them. They are my people and my heritage as I said I was born dalish but not raised like them, traditionally. But Antiva and over all Treviso is my home, it's my city, it's my country. I will protect it even if it means going against the rules or losing my life.Â
Lightning Round - PREGAME VERSION
Favorite scent: snake babies⌠don't ask, just smell them. And maybe ThymianÂ
Favorite food: I love anything with Caramel, also anything with potatoesÂ
Favorite animal: mmmmh Wolves are pretty neat, maybe mabaris and cats too. Oh and of course Crowds
Favorite book or story: the dreadwolf and the Halla its a tale my mother used to tellÂ
Favorite drink: Cioccolata calda
Favorite item of clothing: capesÂ
Favorite keepsake: a little halla statue, my first daggerÂ
Favorite place: the diamondÂ
Favorite person: Teia
Favorite little treat: Caramel drops and cake.Â
During The Veilguard (HEAVY SPOILERS BENEATH THE CUT)
Act 1: Signs and Portents
What was Rookâs status with their own faction at the beginning of the game? Why were they recruited by Varric?
A: I was good on the side , I think, okay I pissed them off with the shit I pulled with the Antaam. Tho Teia said she and Vi were a bit proud about me, beating them 20 against 1. Varric recruited me because I freed him, but if you ask him it's because I went against my orders for a greater cause thinking only about the others, not me as I freed them.Â
What did Rook think of Varric when they first met? Did Rook support Varricâs choice to confront Solas alone?
A: At first I found him strange, I did know about the Inquisition and heard tales of a dwarf with them but still strange. Funny thing is, I actually own a few of his books. But he grew on me and we made a contract soâŚ
Did Rook take Neve or Harding with them when they went to interrupt the ritual themselves? Why?
A: I took Harding, as a Mage Neve would be more skilled fighting the demons of while we would be a tad more difficult to spot for solasÂ
How did Rook engage with stories of the elven gods at the beginning of the Veilguard? Were the familiar or strange? Was it disorienting to have them rewritten or did it make no real difference to them?
A: Oh I knew them as I said my mother used to tell me stories about them even my lullaby was about Ghilan'nain and her Halla.Â
Having them rewritten as tyrants wasâŚ. something. Like a half identity crisis, they are not my whole life like for the Dawlish, but still they are my ancestors' gods.
What was Rookâs instinctive reaction to having Solas in their head and dreams? How did Rook respond when Solas asked them why they should be the one to lead the Veilguard?
A: It was concerning, him using blood magic to speak to me. I wondered if he could read every thought of mine if he could control me. And again he is the Dread Wolf, the god my mother said to love and fear at the same time. He's the trickster of trickster, the one who's neither an forgotten god or an evanuris.Â
I answered him directly. There is no use to lying at him, maybe half truths are the way to go. Nobody else would do it, and Varric told me to look after them for him. I'm just a Rook who switched with the king.Â
Did Rook think Neve was right about needing more investigation before acting or that Harding was right that there was no time to spare? What made them think that?
A: I was with Harding on this , yes we needed more information but the situation was⌠Not really time giving.Â
What did Rook decide to do with Mayor Julius of DâMetaâs crossing? Why?
A: I saved him, ironically I'm not a murderer , I don't kill if it's not a contract or a necessary thing. He was wrong and the best way to punish him was living with what he had done.
How did Rook react to Hardingâs new magic? Were they supportive or wary or a mix of both?Â
A: I think magic is a gift and that I told her even though it did make me worried about how she got it. It was something to worry about after..
How did Rook feel among the ancient elven magic and ruins of Arlathan? Did they find Bellaraâs work disturbing or fascinating or something else?
A: It was fascinating, very very fascinating. The ruins made me feel small and insignificant in comparison with the history of those places. It felt heavy and rich with tales that were never told and lost in time.
How did Rook feel about working with a bunch of assassins, the Antivan Crows? Were they familiar with the organization, a Crow themselves, or something else? How did they feel about Lucanis, specifically about Lucanis and Spite?
A: I'm a crow so I was excited. I had heard about the Demon of Varentium, but oddly I don't think I have ever met him before. At least I don't remember, maybe at some banquet or something. I find him and spite⌠fascinating a none mage that was possessed or better to say bonded with a demon without it taking over⌠fascinating. And of course I respect him as the first Talons Grandson. He is⌠powerful to say the least. I do keep my eyes on him⌠to keep track of Spite of course
  How did Rook feel about the Shadow Dragons? Had they ever been to Minrathous before or just heard stories? How did Neve strike them at first?
A: It's a good organisation fighting for their city and it's good to have a widespread connection for information. Â
Neve is competent and powerful. Also she is kind and fights for those who can't fight for themselves. And her mind, wow it's sharp as a knife and gods that women are charming.
What did Rook think of the Wardens when they met them? The First Warden? Antoine and Evka? Davrin (and his tits)? And of course, the MVP, Assan?
A: I have adored Antione and Evka with my whole life. I have known them for like a day and if anything happens to them I will kill all of Thedas. The first Warden? He can fuck himself in his metal protected knee. He has to come down from his high horse or he's gonna fall very very deep, in my Knife.Â
Davrin is⌠A blessing of the eyes and mind. He's someone reliable and I think we are gonna be very good friends.Â
Assan? That's my kid and I will fight Davrin for it⌠I love that damn winged cat so much, do you know he can Purr.Â
Did Rook choose to help Minrathous or Treviso? Why?
A: Treviso, it's my city, my home, my people. It was still a hard choiceÂ
How did Rook feel after seeing what happened to the city they couldnât save? Who did they talk to about it, if anyone, and how did they feel toward Neve and Lucanis in the aftermath?
A: saying I was devastated is the understatement of the Age. IwasâŚ. In pure shock especially as I saw the Viper blighted itâŚ. It was such a huge decision and only one person made it? That's not fair, I thought that maybe with the army and the Shadow dragons Minrathous had the biggest chance of keeping themselves safe, how could a single mage do anything more.Â
Had Rook ever been to Rivain before? What were their impressions? Did they have any experience with Antaam or Qunari outside the Qun? What did they think of Taash and Shanthann?
A: I've been to Rivain before on a contract on a Pirate. Pretty fun one actually. Oh and I KNEW the Antaam before, I had seen a few Qunari before, those who fell out of the Qun but aren't Antaam but not too many. For Taash and their motherâŚ. I like Taash, they are a bit hot headed and that comes from me soo⌠Their mother is odd, too strict about Taash and the Qun about living like a Qunari when she was the one that brought them to Rivain.
What was Rookâs first impression of the Nevarran Necropolis? Were they interested, disturbed, or something else? What did they think of Emmrich and, most importantly, Manfred?
A: I LOVE THE NECROPOLIS. It's so haunting and spooky while you can learn so many things there. Also Vorgoth is just I love him, them, i don't know. Also Emmrich is just so inspiring and I can learn so much from him. It's so good to have him join us. Manfred is also an enrichment, finally. Someone to play with our little Griffon. Also I don't really drink tea but the tea Manfred makesâŚ. so good. Even though I do have to say it's a bit of a waste of my work , necromancy I mean what does it bring killing someone just so they can be resurrected at a mages will.
What did Rook think of the Inquisitor? Did they become personal friends or did they keep it professional? Who was the Inquisitorâs lover, if any, and did Rook have an opinion of that?
A: The Inquisitor is such A strong person and she is powerful and stunning. We write eachother often and I admire her even more for her strength to keep believing in Solas and the love they share.
At the Siege of Weisshaupt, how did Rook deal with the First Warden and why?
A: I punched that prick's face. Didn't think he would go down with one punch. I mean he's a warrior after all, but he went down like a sack of stones. There was no reasoning with him, he would have killed way more of the Grey Wardens.Â
Act 2: The Price of the Past
How did Rook react to the aftermath of Weisshaupt? Were they sad, angry, scared, all of the above, or something else? Did they blame themselves? Lucanis? The First Warden? Ghilan'nain? Who did they talk to about it, and did they show their true feelings to their companions?
A: I blamed myself, I was the one responsible for the team, I was the one with the most information on the godsâŚ. It was not Lucanis' fault or anyones else's, it was mine. We should have taken her down at Weisshaupt and the guilt we didn't lie with me, the guilt is my burden to bear so no I didn't tell any of the companionsâŚ. It's my burden to bear.
Had Rook developed a romantic interest in one of their companions--or someone else!--by the time Weisshaupt fell? If so, were they eager to explore it or afraid to? Why?
A: Okay, I admit it.. I do have hots for Lucanis. Can you blame me? Have you seen this man cook or heard him talk? âŚ. that's better than anything. Also he's just⌠wow how can he be so careful with us all, so soft around us, helping us, care for us while he's a feared assassin. And also while he's possessed by a literal demon. And no I did not act on it, he has enough things to handle himself and spite. I don't wanna add myself and my one sided feelings to it. Though I did catch myself that I do talk to him more often and that I look at himâŚ.. I believe Neve might have caught that.Â
Who were Rookâs closest companions, and what did they like about them? Who irritated Rook, if anyone, and how?
A: Most of the time on the road with Lucanis and Bellara, or sometimes Emmerich. I'm closest to those three I would say. Nobody irritates me really, maybe Taash sometimes.. They really need to work on their patience but no one really gets on my nervesÂ
How did Rook respond to Davrin and Lucanisâs animosity finally boiling over? Were they sympathetic to one or the other or to both?
A: I understand both. Davrin lost so many friends at Weishaupt, the survivor's guilt is eating him alive faster than the blight could. Lucanis is spiraling because of guilt , he never missed a shot before he always meets his Target, failing to kill Ghilan'nain is a hard blow for them both, they needed to let go of that steam.
When Elgarânan took the Dalish prisoners to use as sacrifices, what was Rookâs first reaction? Were they resolved, raging, sad, or some combination? Did they talk to any of their companions about it?
A: Horror pure Horror, the way he slaughtered those Halas, the casualty of the Venatori that attended it was gruesome and got my blood boiling. His whole Plan, the dalish everything was just, he may not be as visually shocking as Ghilan´nian but he is so mu=ch worse than her. I will rip his damn heart out of his chest while it is still beating. I talked with Bellara about it for hours after.Â
What was Rookâs reaction to The Butcherâs proposition to them in Treviso? Did they respect it, think it was bonkers, or something else? Did they discuss it with any of their companions after the fact?
A: It was weird to say the least but I respect that, kind of. Treviso is a jewel and we have to protect it.Â
Did Rook express concerns about Illarioâs behavior to Lucanis? Did Rook encourage him to punish or to forgive Illario? Did Rook encourage Lucanis to work with Spite to save Catarina or to punish Illario? What were Rookâs impressions of Catarina both before and after her kidnapping? How did Rook feel about Lucanis becoming First Talon?
A: I have to admit, Illario always made me suspicious, but in the end I encouraged Luvanis to forgive him, the embarrassment was more than enough. But I will keep a close watch of him⌠If he tries to pull such a stunt again, I will end him myself. Even if it means Catarina will kill me.Â
Of course I encouraged him and Spite to work together to save Catarina , everything else would end in innocent blood being spilled.
Catarina is scary, she wants furst talon for nothing. She's Deadly. I'm glad to never have met her at her Prime and I respect her so much. She raised Lucanis, maybe not fair or lovingly, but he came out right.
Lucanis becoming First Talon, was , wow he's now my boss's boss which isâŚ.. concerning feelings wise but also I respect him. It makes me nervous to tell him what to do. ( laughs)
Did Rook support Bellara in her desire to save Cyrian or did they encourage her to be more forceful in stopping him immediately? Did they encourage her to keep the Nadas Dirthalen or to destroy it?
A: I helped her trying to talk to Cyrian and I cried with her as she held him in Her arms As he died. For the archive I told her to keep it, it holds a lot of knowledge about our people, and now we need something to cling to now after our gods and our beliefs were shattered.
Did Rook encourage the alliance with the Threads in Dock Town? Did they encourage Neve to bring Dock Town hope or to become a darker protector-figure?
A: the threads may be criminals but they certainly care for the city , for Neve she's a hope for Dock TownÂ
What was Rookâs reaction to the revelations about the Titans and the residual anger their downfall and exploitation at the hands of the Evanuris left behind? Did it change how they felt about Hardingâs new powers, and if so, how? Did they encourage Harding to embrace the Titanâs anger or to remember their compassionate side?
A: I felt âŚ. guilt i felt Solas guilt, my ancestors killed hers, they eradicated every single one. I told her she was more than this Anger that her compassionate side was stronger. She may have the blood and memory of the Titans but she still is Harding
How did Rook encourage Davrin to train and interact with Assan? Did they suggest discipline or kindness or some mixture of both? What were Rookâs feelings on seeing the twisted recreation of Weisshaupt, The Profane City? How did the blighted First Warden react to seeing Rook again there? Did Rook decide the griffons should go to the Anderfels with the Wardens or stay in Arlathan as protectors of nature?
A: I will have nightmares about that twisted Weisshaupt. Maybe I should take Lucanis' approach and just not sleep. For the griffons I think it's time they lay down the weapon⌠they will flourish in Arlathan and Arlathan will flourish through them. For the First Warden, he didn't like me living, he dont like me as blighted. Still he didn't deserve that ending.Â
Davrin and Assan are a team now, kindness and discipline is a good mix for both of them , but let's be fair Assan is going to dance on Davrins nose.Â
What did Rook think of Emmrichâs confession that he wanted to attain lichdom? Did their views on necromancy change as they got to know Emmrich and the Mourn Watch better? Did they encourage Emmrich to attain lichdom or to revive Manfred?
A: it's his choice but i would have been sad to see manfred go, which is weird to say as he's a Skeleton but still. Who would play rock, paper scissors with me. And I know that Emmerich would have shattered without his skeleton son, eternity can be lonely just look at Solas.Â
How did Taashâs journey to finding themselves strike Rook? What did Rook think of Shathann once they got to know her better? Did that change after her death? Did Rook encourage Taash to embrace their Rivaini culture or to fall back on the strength of their motherâs teachings about the Qun?
A: Taash mother and me never really got along and that's okay, i don't need to be liked by everyoneâŚ. i don't even want that. But still i was sad to see her die that way, my heart broke for taash. still i told them to embrace who they are and where they grew up. find strength in happiness of your own.
(If Rook didnât romance Harding or Taash:) Did Rook encourage Taash to get a gift to express interest in Harding? What was it and why? How did they feel about that relationship going forward?
A: Taash bought Harding something for her arrows and hey I love that they get along THAT well ( laughs ) at least some of us are getting some u know what ( laughs even louder)
(If Rook didnât romance Emmrich:) Did Rook encourage Emmrich to take Strife to the caves or the forest on a date? How did they feel about that relationship going forward?
A: This really came out of nowhere to be honest but I like it, even though Strife can be a bit⌠mean sometimes ( laughs again) the comment about me being a city mage wasn't really necessary but still. I love that for them they are like my unclesÂ
How did Rook deal with the friction between Taash and Emmrich? Did they encourage them to find common ground or to talk about other things? How did they feel about that relationship going forward?
A: told them to just find a common ground ⌠this little fight was unnecessary, but it also was kind of predictable now they always ramble on about plants
Did Rook romance any of their companions after all? What was that like for them, and how did it happen? Did the other companions have an opinion?
A: Well, ahem ( visibly blushes) me and lucanis are getting along very very well, even spite seems to like me ( laughs) it was actually nice talking to him in Lucanis mind⌠Even though the circumstances could have been better. For the companions Neve was happy for us both especially seemingly for Lucanis. Harding was also happy but still worried about spite. I think Emmerich is already planning a wedding bouquet and he's getting ready to fight Viago to be the one to bring me to the altar. The others are happy too though Davrin seems the most worried. Oh and the Inquisitor is more than thrilled ( laughs)
Who did Rook feel closest to by the time they were making plans with the Inquisitor to stop the godsâ ritual at the eclipse?
A: I mean the answer is obviously Lucanis, but after him maybe Emmerich he was my calming point of this whole thingÂ
Did Rook choose Davrin or Harding to lead a second team at Tearstone Island? Why? How did they feel in the aftermath of Tearstone Island about that choice? How did they honor their fallen teammate later?
S: It was Harding and I was devastated. I lost my sister that day.That what she was for me Family not just a friend. I joined her to keep going, no matter the price , for LaceÂ
Did Rook choose Neve or Bellara to take down the wards at Tearstone Island? Why? Did they regret their choice? How did they come to terms with it after?
A: my bell my little Bellara she was the one to take down the wards she knew them enough , I thought she would be safeâŚ. I beat myself up over it and i still feel the guilt
How did Rook deal with learning theyâd been magically gaslit into thinking Varric was alive all this time??????
A: I wanted to kick his bold wolf assâŚ. THE PURE AUDACITY LIKE WHAT?!?!?!Â
Did Rook find the Mysterious Circles?
A: yes i actually didÂ
Did Rook find all of Solasâs regrets after the Inquisitor gave them the first? What were their reactions to the revelations about:
A: I found them allâŚ. One worse than the other
The Golden City/The Black City and The Chantryâs doctrine being false
It did not hit me as hard as it should haveÂ
Mythal convincing Solas to take a mortal form
The pain Of him⌠I understood him better after this. A spirit if wisdom becomes a Pride demon after being Used against their purpose and getting twisted
Solas being willing to sacrifice his followers for his end goals
heâŚ.. I hated him for that but it was necessary and I know it was not an easy decision for him. â they died as who they wereâ this hitted harder after knowing who and what he once was
Ancient elves originating as spirits who took mortal form
I jokingly talked with Emmerich about what kind of spirit I would be. He said Determination , Courage or Compassion âŚ. Lucanis said Spite liked the idear of me being a Spirit of DeterminationÂ
 âThe elves -- particularly Solas and Mythal -- killing and exploiting the Titans to win the war against them
Guilt i felt the guilt of Solas, like i already, saidâŚ.. and rageÂ
The blight being the Titanâs lost, angry dreams
It scares Me how powerful those beings could have been if the blight are there angers and dreams
Solas regaining his power pre-Inquisition by killing Mythalâs current host
-i didn't know her , the other host, and to be true after all i have seen of her i don't really know if i feel sympathy for her, i meant mythal.
Bonus Round: Were Solas and Mythal doing it?
Oh definitely
Mythal's essence. How did they get it from her? Was it a fight or a matter of discussion? How did they feel, meeting her?
It was a discussion, one that felt like talking to an explosive ready to go off any minuteâŚ.. it was strange meeting her. Her fragment seemed bitter and like she lost herself.
Act 3: The Wrath of Ages
Were all Rookâs allied factions at maximum strength when they launched their attack on Elgarânan? Which ones werenât, and why? Did Rook favor any of them? Their own? Someone elseâs?
A: They were all my allies and all were the strongest they could beâŚ. And of course I would favor my people the crows
Who did Rook choose to support the Veil Jumpers in the final battle dealing with magical wards or protecting others?
Neve knows Those wards better than anyone so i chose her
Who did Rook choose to support the Crows and the Lords of Fortune in the final battle fighting mages or attacking by surprise?
A: Of course lucanis⌠Whonwohlf be better at killing mages than my own Demon of Verantium
Who did Rook choose to support the Wardens and the Mourn Watch in the final battle fighting massive enemies and constructs?
A: Taash knows best how to fight giant enemies
Who did Rook choose to take with them for the final battle against Elgarânan and why?
A: Emmerich and Davrin, Emmrich is a skilled mage with years of knowledge also he keeps a cool mind no matter what. Davrin is a Warden he qs trained to fight Darkspawn And he's a skilled soldier who has fought many battles.
Did Rook plan to trick Solas with the fake dagger or did they think they better not risk it?
A :Tricking the god of Trickery is suicide but it was put only option if he would have not let him be talked down
Did Morrigan give you Felassenâs Rune? How did Rook use it?
A Fellassen helped me finish it all for good
Did Rook have a lover to talk with before the final battle? How did they feel in that moment?
A: Lucanis and I talked⌠His words embedded themself in my brain they guided me up that tower and echoed inside me as i slayed a god
After defeating Elgarânan, how did Rook deal with Solas and the veil? Was it different than they had planned? If so, why and how?
A: I Talked with him⌠He had to overcome his regretsâŚ. Mithal was there and seeing tbe mighty Dread wolf breakdown âŚ.. cried as i saw the Inquisitor leave with him together into the fade i hope to some day to hear from then againÂ
What did Rook do on the day after saving the world?
I returned to the lighthouseâŚ. and slept a long Dreamless sleepâŚ. I think it was DreamlessâŚ.
Lightning Round - AFTERMATH VERSION
Favorite scent:Fresh grounded Coffee and the forest
Favorite food: PaellaÂ
Favorite animal: Griffons and DragonsÂ
Favorite book or story: Varric's last book he never released
Favorite drink: Coffee
Favorite item of clothing: my Crow attireÂ
Favorite keepsake: An antivan crow mask, varrrics shawing mirror
Favorite place:the lighthouses dining table and the wolf's lair
Favorite person: LucanisÂ
Favorite little treat: Hazelnut Torte
Who is Rook?
We have no Keep to keep our memories this time my friends, so I made a thing. Use it as you will, take pieces, use parts, do the whole damn thing, whatever. Thanks to @mageofquandrix for the backup on this!
Leaving the spoilery part beneath the cut.
Who is Rook?
Name:
Pronouns:
Race:
Faction:
Class:
Specialization:
Before The Veilguard
Where was Rook born? Who were their childhood family and friends? What did they spend their free time doing as a child? What did they want to be when they âgrew upâ if anything.
Where and how was Rook educated? What did they enjoy learning; what did they dislike learning? Who did they admire most? Who was an example of what not to do or be?
How did they experience gender as a young person? Did they grow up in an environment of strict gender roles and expectations or were they allowed to be themselves?Â
What was their take on sexuality as a young person? Did they experiment with romance or find it entirely uninteresting?
What was their take on spirituality as a young person? Did they grow up around one particular religion and if so how did that affect their beliefs?
What childhood fear(s) did Rook carry with them into adulthood?
How did Rook become involved with their chosen faction? Who did they meet first, and how, and where, and why did they join up?
Was Rook interested in finding a life partner of some kind when they joined their faction? Why? Who were their best friends and how did they meet? Who were their rivals, who did they trust?
Did Rook have any scars or tattoos? Whatâs the story behind them?
Did Rook ever strongly identify with a particular nationality, city, race, creed, or religion? Is this something they explored on their own or a tradition that was passed down to them? Did this identity evolve as they grew into adulthood?
Lightning Round - PREGAME VERSION
Favorite scent:
Favorite food:
Favorite animal:
Favorite book or story:
Favorite drink:
Favorite item of clothing:
Favorite keepsake:
Favorite place:
Favorite person:
Favorite little treat:
During The Veilguard (HEAVY SPOILERS BENEATH THE CUT)
Act 1: Signs and Portents
What was Rookâs status with their own faction at the beginning of the game? Why were they recruited by Varric?
What did Rook think of Varric when they first met? Did Rook support Varricâs choice to confront Solas alone?
Did Rook take Neve or Harding with them when they went to interrupt the ritual themselves? Why?
How did Rook engage with stories of the elven gods at the beginning of the Veilguard? Were the familiar or strange? Was it disorienting to have them rewritten or did it make no real difference to them?
What was Rookâs instinctive reaction to having Solas in their head and dreams? How did Rook respond when Solas asked them why they should be the one to lead the Veilguard?
Did Rook think Neve was right about needing more investigation before acting or that Harding was right that there was no time to spare? What made them think that?
What did Rook decide to do with Mayor Julius of DâMetaâs crossing? Why?
How did Rook react to Hardingâs new magic? Were they supportive or wary or a mix of both?Â
How did Rook feel among the ancient elven magic and ruins of Arlathan? Did they find Bellaraâs work disturbing or fascinating or something else?
How did Rook feel about working with a bunch of assassins, the Antivan Crows? Were they familiar with the organization, a Crow themselves, or something else? How did they feel about Lucanis, specifically about Lucanis and Spite?
How did Rook feel about the Shadow Dragons? Had they ever been to Minrathous before or just heard stories? How did Neve strike them at first?
What did Rook think of the Wardens when they met them? The First Warden? Antoine and Evka? Davrin (and his tits)? And of course, the MVP, Assan?
Did Rook choose to help Minrathous or Treviso? Why?
How did Rook feel after seeing what happened to the city they couldnât save? Who did they talk to about it, if anyone, and how did they feel toward Neve and Lucanis in the aftermath?
Had Rook ever been to Rivain before? What were their impressions? Did they have any experience with Antaam or Qunari outside the Qun? What did they think of Taash and Shanthann?
What was Rookâs first impression of the Nevarran Necropolis? Were they interested, disturbed, or something else? What did they think of Emmrich and, most importantly, Manfred?
What did Rook think of the Inquisitor? Did they become personal friends or did they keep it professional? Who was the Inquisitorâs lover, if any, and did Rook have an opinion of that?
At the Siege of Weisshaupt, how did Rook deal with the First Warden and why?
Act 2: The Price of the Past
How did Rook react to the aftermath of Weisshaupt? Were they sad, angry, scared, all of the above, or something else? Did they blame themselves? Lucanis? The First Warden? Ghilan'nain? Who did they talk to about it, and did they show their true feelings to their companions?
Had Rook developed a romantic interest in one of their companions--or someone else!--by the time Weisshaupt fell? If so, were they eager to explore it or afraid to? Why?
Who were Rookâs closest companions, and what did they like about them? Who irritated Rook, if anyone, and how?
How did Rook respond to Davrin and Lucanisâs animosity finally boiling over? Were they sympathetic to one or the other or to both?
When Elgarânan took the Dalish prisoners to use as sacrifices, what was Rookâs first reaction? Were they resolved, raging, sad, or some combination? Did they talk to any of their companions about it?
What was Rookâs reaction to The Butcherâs proposition to them in Treviso? Did they respect it, think it was bonkers, or something else? Did they discuss it with any of their companions after the fact?
Did Rook express concerns about Illarioâs behavior to Lucanis? Did Rook encourage him to punish or to forgive Illario? Did Rook encourage Lucanis to work with Spite to save Catarina or to punish Illario? What were Rookâs impressions of Catarina both before and after her kidnapping? How did Rook feel about Lucanis becoming First Talon?
Did Rook support Bellara in her desire to save Cyrian or did they encourage her to be more forceful in stopping him immediately? Did they encourage her to keep the Nadas Dirthalen or to destroy it?
Did Rook encourage the alliance with the Threads in Dock Town? Did they encourage Neve to bring Dock Town hope or to become a darker protector-figure?
What was Rookâs reaction to the revelations about the Titans and the residual anger their downfall and exploitation at the hands of the Evanuris left behind? Did it change how they felt about Hardingâs new powers, and if so, how? Did they encourage Harding to embrace the Titanâs anger or to remember their compassionate side?
How did Rook encourage Davrin to train and interact with Assan? Did they suggest discipline or kindness or some mixture of both? What were Rookâs feelings on seeing the twisted recreation of Weisshaupt, The Profane City? How did the blighted First Warden react to seeing Rook again there? Did Rook decide the griffons should go to the Anderfels with the Wardens or stay in Arlathan as protectors of nature?
What did Rook think of Emmrichâs confession that he wanted to attain lichdom? Did their views on necromancy change as they got to know Emmrich and the Mourn Watch better? Did they encourage Emmrich to attain lichdom or to revive Manfred?
How did Taashâs journey to finding themselves strike Rook? What did Rook think of Shathann once they got to know her better? Did that change after her death? Did Rook encourage Taash to embrace their Rivaini culture or to fall back on the strength of their motherâs teachings about the Qun?
(If Rook didnât romance Harding or Taash:) Did Rook encourage Taash to get a gift to express interest in Harding? What was it and why? How did they feel about that relationship going forward?
(If Rook didnât romance Never or Lucanis:) How did Rook feel about Neve and Lucanisâs Romance? Did they encourage it?
(If Rook didnât romance Emmrich:) Did Rook encourage Emmrich to take Strife to the caves or the forest on a date? How did they feel about that relationship going forward?
How did Rook deal with the friction between Taash and Emmrich? Did they encourage them to find common ground or to talk about other things? How did they feel about that relationship going forward?
Did Rook romance any of their companions after all? What was that like for them, and how did it happen? Did the other companions have an opinion?
Who did Rook feel closest to by the time they were making plans with the Inquisitor to stop the godsâ ritual at the eclipse?
Did Rook choose Davrin or Harding to lead a second team at Tearstone Island? Why? How did they feel in the aftermath of Tearstone Island about that choice? How did they honor their fallen teammate later?
Did Rook choose Neve or Bellara to take down the wards at Tearstone Island? Why? Did they regret their choice? How did they come to terms with it after?
How did Rook deal with learning theyâd been magically gaslit into thinking Varric was alive all this time??????
Did Rook find the Mysterious Circles?
Did Rook find all of Solasâs regrets after the Inquisitor gave them the first? What were their reactions to the revelations about:
The Golden City/The Black City and The Chantryâs doctrine being false
Mythal convincing Solas to take a mortal form
Solas being willing to sacrifice his followers for his end goals
Ancient elves originating as spirits who took mortal form
The elves -- particularly Solas and Mythal -- killing and exploiting the Titans to win the war against them
The blight being the Titanâs lost, angry dreams
Solas regaining his power pre-Inquisition by killing Mythalâs current host
Bonus Round: Were Solas and Mythal doing it?
Mythal's essence. How did they get it from her? Was it a fight or a matter of discussion? How did they feel, meeting her?
Act 3: The Wrath of Ages
Were all Rookâs allied factions at maximum strength when they launched their attack on Elgarânan? Which ones werenât, and why? Did Rook favor any of them? Their own? Someone elseâs?
Who did Rook choose to support the Veil Jumpers in the final battle dealing with magical wards or protecting others?
Who did Rook choose to support the Crows and the Lords of Fortune in the final battle fighting mages or attacking by surprise?
Who did Rook choose to support the Wardens and the Mourn Watch in the final battle fighting massive enemies and constructs?
Who did Rook choose to take with them for the final battle against Elgarânan and why?
Did Rook plan to trick Solas with the fake dagger or did they think they better not risk it?
Did Morrigan give you Felassenâs Rune? How did Rook use it?
Did Rook have a lover to talk with before the final battle? How did they feel in that moment?
After defeating Elgarânan, how did Rook deal with Solas and the veil? Was it different than they had planned? If so, why and how?
What did Rook do on the day after saving the world?
Lightning Round - AFTERMATH VERSION
Favorite scent:
Favorite food:
Favorite animal:
Favorite book or story:
Favorite drink:
Favorite item of clothing:
Favorite keepsake:
Favorite place:
Favorite person:
Favorite little treat:
474 notes
¡
View notes
Text
so fairy tail 178........
first of all... I will always HATE the dumbass-ification of natsu's character. og natsu would actually be rolling in his grave listening to the hyq version yap about "needing to be the one to defeat ignia" and feeling threatened because the fire cat wants to go talk to ignia instead??? wdym happy is the voice of reason... of course a part of natsu's character has always been comedic relief and he is supposed to be dumb (to an EXTENT) but it is just so genuinely difficult to enjoy his screen time in hyq... like pls don't make me hate my boy...
I do also wonder how this little fire cat knows about natsu's supposed "power". tbh I haven't paid attention to the manga in a long time because nalu haven't had any screen time but the cat saying that natsu needs to "eat those [special flames] ... [to] awaken [his] power" is certainly interesting. like I'm really trying to not be hopeful here because hyq almost never delivers (đ) but come on... they're FINALLY referencing the first (and only) interesting part of this series (natsu's loss of control over his power in literally like chapter 20 or something LMAO). I don't really understand what "the power to make a prison of flames" means or how it's ... relevant? but they are speaking my language with "...that will burn everything up" (hyq 178.. yes im citing my sources!).
anyways so in ft og, natsu's initial transformation into end is followed by his flashback to Lucy being 'dead', to which he says "nobody can stop me now" (ft 504). the only time we have been shown (supposedly???) demon (?????) natsu in hyq was in chapter 22, which can only be argued based on his appearance and behaviour being the same as it was in ft 504, seeing as his demonic state was never mentioned by any other character after or during chapter 22. obviously the language in the chapters mirrors each other, as he states "I have to burn every single thing... until they all turn to ash" in ch. 22, so this HAS to be leading up to natsu losing it again lol... and the supporting language from 504 (see prev. citation), along with Lucy's position as (somehow) the only person who was scared of natsu's fire in ch. 22 implies that she SHOULD have an imperative role in the finale as the only person who can "stop" natsu should he turn into a demon again (504).
tldr surely this shit is leading up to a nalu + end!natsu finale and im going to be confused if it doesn't!
I also wanna talk about Lucy's new magical role because? what????
I really don't understand Why an entity known as a "dragon god" that has been around for hundreds of years just fuckign doing his own thing would have a key?? that allows some random chick (sorry Lucy xoxo) to summon him whenever??? make it make sense? does this imply that every single dragon god (and even maybe dragon?) would have a key? I feel like this bs is antithetical to the entire purpose of dragons in the series as creatures that have not only ended humankind like 3 times, but also as monsters that humans had to develop special magic to defeat? I don't feel like finding a source for it but like majority of the plot lines of fairy tail revolve around the incredible power of dragons and their unwillingness to bend to human authority (eg. Irene, igneel+co as the exception, zeref+natsu's family's demise, the dragon festival, AND SO ON). why on EARTH would a dragon, let alone a dragon GOD, allow a human to have control over his agency? it makes 0 sense... even if this dude is a good guy.
moving on... I think that it is funny for the writers to have Lucy be a celestial spirit wizard for 700+ chapters and then randomly change her role into a "summoner" in a small, anticlimactic blurb in a chapter that does not even revolve around her (178). regardless of how I feel about that, shouldn't that be a much bigger deal?? shouldn't there be a lot more unpacking of her new power (which I guess isn't really new but still)? this dude says "wizards who have keys and get their powers from gates ... are collectively known as 'summoners'"... which still implies that there are different versions, so like why should Lucy be able to just summon who ever? "collectively" places the term "summoner" as an umbrella term, like I don't understand how that is supposed to just explain that she suddenly is more than a celestial spirit wizard??!! fuckass "im sure you can summon a dragon" like okay. wrap it up. I just feel like this isn't necessary and I can't even understand why they're doing this? bro just like expand on celestial spirit magic insteadđ ffs just have her get the key of Draco or something good lord LIKE THAT WOULD MAKE SO MUCH MORE SENSE. IT WOULD BE UNDERSTANDABLE FOR THAT GUY TO HAVE THAT KEY AND IT WOULD MAKE SENSE FOR HER MAGIC'S PURPOSEđ sorry guys this series actually pisses me off so bad LMAO...
tldr being able to summon a dragon god is antithetical to the entire existence/purpose of dragons in the series and also having Lucy not "just" be a celestial spirit wizard is dumb as hell because they could've just expanded her magic and/or given her the key of Draco.
wait I feel like I need to say that Lucy is my fav character ever and I love her so much and she is kick ass... the reason why I don't like the random power up is because (in my mind) it undermines the power that she has already worked for herself by giving her this random ability to summon a dragon for no reason instead of expanding on her fundamental talents. like she has the power of the STARS how is it possible that they can't work with that instead of giving her random abilities???? maybe im biased because star power is awesome in my head but STILL
... fuckass yukino is gonna come on screen and immediately be able to summon a dragon too... just watch.......
#me when I write an essay about fucking fairy tail BRUHHHH#free me fr#this is the first hyq chap that ive read and paid attention to in awhile#so you know. gotta get my rant in.#I have a lot of thoughts as u can see#lucy heartfilia#fairy tail 100 years quest#natsu dragneel#fairy tail#nalu#end natsu better make an appearance bruh im sick of being edged
39 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Patient: Why have I been billed for this?
Me: I don't know. I'm not pathology, you need to ring the pathology department and query that with them
Patient: Can I read the item numbers out to you and you can check them?
Me: No. I'm not pathology, I don't have pathology records, I don't have pathology billing codes. Please ring the pathology department
Patient: This is very frustrating. What would you do if you were in my shoes?
Me: I would ring the pathology department and ask them why they've billed me because I am not familiar with Medicare billing practices for pathology specifically and need them to explain it to me
Patient: So you can't tell me ANYTHING?
#I told my boss I was going to go home early today because I didn't sleep last night because of shoulder plus grief#(the shoulder has been caused by extreme stress. It's an old injury that flares up when I'm stressed)#and he said he wanted to go home early because his wife was working so he needed to pick up the kids#and the receptionist walked in and said her mum had been in a car accident and could she go home immediately#so here I am#still working#still doing the workload of a personal secretary and a medical assistant and a medical typist and a practice manager#and only being paid for one of those roles
15 notes
¡
View notes
Text
â Synopsis: After years of being Mr. Choi's personal secretary, you had become accustomed to the dynamics of working closely with him. However, fate had brought about a change â Mr. Choi's son, Seungcheol, would now be taking over the company. Unbeknownst to you, Seungcheol had harbored a secret crush on you for years. â WC: 8k â WARNINGS: Smut, mentions of collapsing, blacking out, burn-out, teasing, dirty talk, fingering, oral (f. receiving), cock riding (pro-riddah), 'jealousy', all types of moans and whimpering, crush confessions, creampie, reader is mentioned as 'noona' sometimes.
You started at the company fresh out of college, eager to make your mark in the corporate world. Landing an internship and apprenticeship seemed like the perfect opportunity to kickstart your career. But from the beginning, it was a whirlwind. The partners and directors barely acknowledged your presence, treating you as if you were invisible.
Their dismissive attitudes fueled your determination to prove yourself. You worked tirelessly, absorbing every bit of knowledge and skill you could. Despite the frustrations and challenges, you persevered, determined to make your mark.
Then, when chaos descended and problems arose, suddenly you were thrust into the spotlight. Issues that had been brewing for months seemed to land squarely on your shoulders. It was as if your colleagues had only just noticed your existence, expecting you to magically solve all their problems.
But you didn't falter. Instead, you faced each challenge head-on, drawing upon your education, experience, and sheer determination. With each obstacle overcome, your confidence grew, and your colleagues began to take notice.
You hit the big leagues when you stepped into the role of a top executive, becoming the right-hand person to Mr. Choi, the company's director. From picking out his ties to scrutinizing private contracts, your responsibilities spanned the spectrum.
Every single morning, like clockwork, you'd hop into your car with a casket of coffee and croissants for Mr. Choi. Strutting into the office in your killer heels and impeccable attire, you were ready to make an impression, especially during those crucial meetings where you stood by Mr. Choi's side.
Being Mr. Choi's right arm wasn't just about fetching coffee; it was about being his trusted confidante, advisor, and problem-solver, all rolled into one.
"Y/N, can you schedule a meeting with the board members for next week?"
"Absolutely, Mr. Choi."
"Y/N, can you prepare a presentation for the investors' conference?"Â
"I'll have it ready in no time, Mr. Choi."
"Y/N, can you liaise with our international partners regarding the new partnership agreement?"Â
"Of course, Mr. Choi."
"Y/N, could you buy a birthday gift for my son?"Â
"I'll take care of it, Mr. Choi. "
"Y/N, could you book a reservation at that new restaurant for my wife's birthday dinner?"Â
"Consider it done, Mr. Choi."
Your life was a whirlwind, with the constant ticking of the clock mirroring the click-clack of your heels wherever you went. Tension hung heavy in the air, creeping up your neck like a suffocating scarf. Dark circles under your eyes were a testament to the countless nights of poor sleep, hidden only by layers of concealer slapped onto your face.
Cups of coffee became your lifeline, keeping your eyes wide open until you finally collapsed onto your bed at night. It was a relentless cycle of hustle and grind, each day blending into the next in a blur of meetings, deadlines, and demands.Â
Despite the chaos of your professional life, there was a silver lining: the bills were paid, and then some. Your salary exceeded your wildest expectations, causing whispers among your coworkers about just how much you were making. But Mr. Choi never wavered in his support, always quick to defend your worth and affirm that you deserved every penny.
He'd extend invitations for you to spend time with his family, insisting that you join them at their summer house. You'd seen his family at various company events and dinners, and while you appreciated the gesture, you couldn't shake the feeling of intruding on their private time.
So, respectfully, you always declined, preferring to maintain a professional boundary despite Mr. Choi's insistenceä¸Even though he wanted you to choose even the color of his ties.
On another typical day in the office, you meticulously scheduled a meeting for Mr. Choi, gathering his collaborators for an important discussion. As usual, you stood faithfully by his side, your sharp heels elevating you to eye level with the top brass.Â
The room was set, and you watched as the group filed in, taking their seats around the sleek glass table.
But something caught your eyeâa figure among the usual faces. It was Seungcheol, Mr. Choi's son, entering the room. It was a rare sight to see him at these meetings, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity.
What struck you even more was the watch adorning Seungcheol's wrist. It was the Audemars Piguet timepiece that Mr. Choi had asked you to purchase for his birthday last year.
You remembered selecting it based on your own taste, so seeing Seungcheol wearing it filled you with a sense of pride. It was a small validation that your choices were appreciated, even by the boss's son.
As Mr. Choi began the meeting, you were right there by his side, ready to assist with whatever he needed.
"Good morning, everyone. Thank you for joining us today," Mr. Choi began, his voice commanding the attention of the room.
You quickly handed him a folder containing the agenda for the meeting, making sure everything was in order.
"First, let's review the progress on our latest project," Mr. Choi continued, flipping through the documents in the folder.
"Of course, Mr. Choi," you interjected, pulling up the relevant slides on the screen for everyone to see.
As the meeting progressed, you anticipated Mr. Choi's needs, fetching him water when his throat grew dry and passing him important documents without skipping a beat.
"As some of you may know, over the past few months, I've been dealing with some health issues," Mr. Choi continued, his gaze sweeping across the room. "And after much consideration and consultation with my doctors, I've come to the difficult decision that I need to take some time away from the company to focus on my health."
Silence fell over the room, the weight of his words sinking in. This was unexpected, and you could feel the tension in the air.
Then, as Mr. Choi's eyes met yours, you saw an understanding dawn in Seungcheol expression. Everything suddenly clicked into placeâthe presence of Mr. Choi's son at the meeting. Â
Then, Mr. Choi continued, "During my absence, I've decided that my son, Seungcheol, will be stepping into my role temporarily."
All eyes turned to Seungcheol as he rose from his seat and bowed respectfully. You couldn't help but feel a sense of uncertainty, but Mr. Choi's next words put you at ease.
"And I have full confidence in both Seungcheol and Y/N," Mr. Choi declared, gesturing towards you. "Y/N will be assisting the whole team, and Seungcheol in any way necessary during this transition period."
You lifted your head, meeting Seungcheol's gaze as he nodded at you. Despite any doubts you may have had, you knew that Seungcheol was capable. You had seen glimpses of his dedication during family dinners, noticing how he would often excuse himself to study, for example.
After the meeting, you found yourself alone with Mr. Choi in the conference room. He looked at you with a gentle expression and asked, "Y/N, why do you seem so worried?"
You offered a small smile, trying to mask your concerns. "I didn't know your health had gotten this bad," you admitted softly.
Mr. Choi returned your smile, his eyes filled with understanding. "I kept it under wraps as best as I could," he said reassuringly. "But I'm confident that everything will be fine, especially with you and Seungcheol at the helm."
Just then, Seungcheol entered the room, and Mr. Choi's attention shifted to his son. "Seungcheol, Y/N will be here to keep you in line," Mr. Choi teased with a grin. "If you step out of line, she has my permission to pull your ear."
Seungcheol chuckled shyly, his eyes meeting yours briefly before he nodded in acknowledgment.Â
Mr. Choi raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eye. "Well, she's the best secretary anyone could have," he remarked, his tone teasing. "If she ever decides to leave because of you, consider yourself dead."
You couldn't help but laugh at the exchange, appreciating the camaraderie between father and son. "I'm not going anywhere, Mr. Choi," you reassured him with a smile. "You're stuck with me for the long haul."
The days following Mr. Choi's announcement were a fuss as you attempted to navigate the new dynamic with Seungcheol in charge. You found yourself juggling multiple tasks, trying to prioritize and triage everything so that Seungcheol could acclimate to the heightened demands of his new role.
Despite the added pressure, you remained steadfast in your routine. Each morning, you meticulously dressed, ensuring every detail of your attire was perfect. You prepared Mr. Choi's favorite coffee and croissants, just as you had done for his father every day.
One morning, as you placed the casket on Seungcheol's desk, you noticed him peering up from his papers with a furrowed brow. "Why do you bring me coffee every day?" he asked, his tone curious yet slightly perplexed.
You paused, taken aback by the question. Tilting your head slightly, you replied, "I did this every day for your dad."
Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. "Did my dad ask for this every day?" he inquired, his curiosity piqued.
You nodded in affirmation, but before you could say anything else, Seungcheol interjected. "You don't need to do that," he stated firmly, shaking his head.
You opened your mouth to respond, but he cut you off. "Seriously, you don't have to go out of your way for me like that," he insisted, his expression earnest.
You paused, considering his words for a moment before nodding in understanding. "Alright," you acquiesced with a small smile, realizing that perhaps Seungcheol's management style was different from his father's.
As the days passed and the workload continued to pile up, you found yourself working late into the night, long after your scheduled shift had ended. Massaging your temples, you stared at the glowing computer screen, the soft hum of the office, the only sound in the empty building.
Glancing up at the clock, you realized with a start that it was already 10 p.m. The realization made your shoulders sag with exhaustion, but you knew there were still tasks that needed your attention.
Looking around your office, which was nestled within the boss's office and separated only by glass walls, you noticed that the rest of the building was deserted. The departments were dark, their lights extinguished for the night.
As the first rays of sunlight filtered into the office, you blinked in surprise, realizing with a jolt that you had slept at your desk. Glancing at the clock, which now read 6:00 a.m., you felt a surge of panic course through you. You couldn't believe you had let yourself fall asleep at work.
Quickly, you sprang into action, rushing to the bathroom to wash your face, brush your teeth and try to salvage your appearance. Splashing cold water on your face, you hoped it would help wake you up and banish the grogginess that clung to you.
With shaky hands, you reapplied your makeup, doing your best to hide the signs of exhaustion that lingered beneath your eyes. You knew that going home to freshen up wasn't an optionâthere was simply too much to do and not enough time.
"You're early, Ms. Y/N," Seungcheol's voice cut through the early morning haze, causing you to startle slightly. You managed a small smile in response, trying to mask the fatigue that weighed heavily on you.
As Seungcheol looked you up and down, you couldn't help but feel self-conscious under his scrutiny. Quickly, you averted your gaze, feeling the tension in your shoulders from the uncomfortable position you had slept in.
Without a word, Seungcheol settled behind his desk, and you seized the opportunity to slip out of the office. The ache in your back served as a constant reminder of your less-than-ideal sleeping arrangements.
Heading to the nearest coffee shop, you hoped that a strong cup of coffee would help invigorate you and shake off the lingering exhaustion.
With the reports prepared the night before, you and Seungcheol led another meeting, this time with the financial team. You entered the conference room together, your demeanor professional despite the weariness that still clung to you from your sleepless night.
Seungcheol took his seat at the head of the table, and you sat beside him, ready to support him in any way you could. As the meeting progressed, you found yourself immersed in the discussion, your mind racing to keep up with the financial jargon being tossed around.
However, amidst the exchange of numbers and projections, you couldn't help but notice Seungcheol's occasional glances in your direction. Each time his eyes met yours, you detected a hint of scrutiny, causing you to wonder if he had noticed your exhaustion.
Desperately trying to maintain your focus, you clenched a pen in your hand, using it as a reminder to stay alert and engaged. But despite your efforts, you could feel your energy waning with each passing minute.
As the meeting dragged on, you found it increasingly difficult to concentrate. Your eyelids feels heavy, and you struggle to keep your thoughts coherent. All you wanted was for the meeting to finish so you could finally rest and recharge.
As the meeting drew to a close and the team members began to file out of the conference room, Seungcheol rose from his seat, gathering some papers from the table. You followed suit, clutching onto the edge of the desk for support as you struggled to maintain your balance.
Seungcheol noticed your unsteady demeanor and furrowed his brow in concern. "Y/N, are you okay?"Â
"I'm fine," you managed to reply, your voice barely above a whisper. But even to your own ears, the words sounded hollow and unconvincing, the effort only served to make your head spin even more.
But as Seungcheol's voice grew louder and more alarmed, it felt as though his words were merely echoing around your head, distant and muffled, you realized just how drained you truly were. The room seemed to spin around you, struggling to keep your balance, you fought to stay on your feet.
The last thing you saw before darkness enveloped you was Seungcheol's panicked expression as he rushed forward, his arms outstretched to catch you before you hit the ground.
He shaked you as his figure blurred and distorted as your vision faded, and then everything went black, the sound of rushing blood pounding in your ears.
Slowly, consciousness began to seep back into your mind, accompanied by the soft murmur of voices and the gentle beeping of medical equipment. Blinking groggily, you struggled to make sense of your surroundings.
As your vision cleared, you realized you were in the nursery, surrounded by the sterile white walls and the comforting hum of medical machinery. And by your side, sitting in a chair with his head bowed, was Seungcheol.
His presence brought a sense of calm to the room, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of gratitude toward him. Despite the strain of his new responsibilities, he had stayed by your side, ensuring that you were taken care of.
You tried to speak, but your throat felt dry and scratchy. Seungcheol must have sensed your movement, because he looked up, his eyes widening in relief as he saw you awake.
You tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness washed over you, forcing you back against the pillows. Seungcheol placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, urging you to rest.
"You collapsed during the meeting," he explained, his voice filled with worry. "They brought you here to rest. The doctors said it was exhaustion."
"Exhaustion? I-" you began, but before you could finish your sentence, Seungcheol cut in, his arms crossed firmly over his chest.
"I saw on the cameras that you slept at your desk," he stated matter-of-factly, his tone tinged with concern. "I noticed becqause you're still wearing the same clothes," Seungcheol added, his tone gentle but firm.
You felt your cheeks burn even hotter at his observation, wishing you could disappear into the floor. The thought of him noticing you using the same clothes from the previous day filled you with mortification, and you struggled to find the right words to respond.
"I... I didn't have time to change," you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper. The weight of exhaustion and embarrassment settled heavily on your shoulders, and you couldn't bring yourself to meet Seungcheol's eyes.
"You need to take better care of yourself, Y/N," he said softly, his concern evident in his eyes. "I saw you working for my dad for years, and I know how demanding he could be."
You swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in your throat at the mention of Mr. Choi. Memories of late nights and early mornings spent tirelessly working flooded your mind, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt for letting Seungcheol down.
"But I also know that you can't keep pushing yourself like this," Seungcheol continued, his voice filled with empathy. "You're human, Y/N, and you have limits."
Seungcheol's gaze softened as he looked at you, concern etched into his features. "Y/N, do you remember the last time you took time off?" he asked gently, his voice filled with genuine worry.
You hesitated, feeling a pang of guilt as you realized that you couldn't recall the last time you had taken a break. "Um... I'm not sure," you admitted quietly, your gaze dropping to the floor.
Seungcheol glanced at his watch, his expression thoughtful. "Well, you don't need to work for the rest of the week," he declared, his tone firm yet compassionate.
Your eyes widened in surprise at the sudden announcement, your mind racing to comprehend what he had just said. "But there are still conferences," you protested weakly, rising from the bed with shaky legs.
Seungcheol shook his head, his eyes meeting yours with determination. "I'll handle the conferences," he insisted, his voice leaving no room for argument. "You need to rest, Y/N. That's an order."
You opened your mouth to protest further, but the exhaustion that weighed heavily on your shoulders silenced you. With a sigh, you nodded in reluctant acceptance, realizing that perhaps Seungcheol was rightâyou did need to take care of yourself.
Despite having time off, your body remained accustomed to waking up at the same early hour as your workdays, thanks to the relentless consistency of your alarm. Each morning, you would groggily switch off the alarm, only to fall back into the comforting embrace of sleep for a few more precious hours.
But something changed during these days off.
Just as you used to bring coffee for your boss, you found yourself receiving a basket of breakfast at your door every morning, each one bearing Seungcheol's unmistakable calligraphy. Instead of the usual croissants and coffee, the baskets were filled with a colorful array of fruits, a healthier alternative that he seemed to insist upon, instead of his dad.
"Fruits are way more healthy than croissantsâŚÂ - Seungcheol."
[...]
Your phone rang unexpectedly in the early morning hours of your last day off, jolting you awake from a peaceful slumber. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, you answered the call, greeted by the voice of Joshua from the Human Resources Department.
"Hello?" you murmured, still groggy from sleep.
"Hi, Y/N," Joshua replied, his voice hushed as though sharing a secret. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."
You shook your head, sitting up in bed and giving your full attention to the call. "No, it's fine. What's up, Joshua?"
"I just wanted to let you know," Joshua continued, his tone serious yet tinged with amusement, "Seungcheol asked all the departments to give you some space and let you rest during your time off."
You felt a surge of gratitude towards Seungcheol for his thoughtfulness, but your gratitude was short-lived as Joshua's next words caught you off guard.
"However," Joshua added, a hint of mischief evident in his voice, "he's struggling a bit with managing everything himself. I caught him pacing back and forth in his office for the past few minutes."
You couldn't help but chuckle at the mental image of Seungcheol pacing anxiously in his office. "I'll take care of it," you assured Joshua, determination seeping into your voice.
"Great," Joshua replied with a laugh. "I'll leave you to it then. Enjoy the rest of your day off, Y/N."
As you confidently strode into the building, the weight of the archives in your hand felt oddly reassuring. Despite the lingering fatigue from your days off, you felt a renewed sense of determination as you navigated the familiar halls in your high heels.
The glances from your coworkers didn't go unnoticed, their surprise at seeing you back at work evident in their expressions. You could almost hear the unspoken question hanging in the airâshouldn't you be at home resting?
Lost in his thoughts, Seungcheol snapped out of his trance as he caught sight of you through the glass walls that separated his office. His eyes widened at the unexpected sight of you, and you offered him a small bow as you approached.
Pushing open the door, you entered his office, the determined set of your shoulders belying any trace of uncertainty. Seungcheol watched you with concern, his normally impeccable hair tousled and his lips worryingly bitten.
"You shouldn't be here," he stated, his voice tinged with worry as he took in your appearance.
You simply smiled in response, pressing the archives into his chest with a sense of purpose. "We have work to do," you replied firmly, meeting his gaze with unwavering determination. "Do you want my help or not?"
Seungcheol's lips parted slightly, his cheeks flushing with a hint of embarrassment as he processed your words. After a moment of hesitation, he nodded shyly, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yes," he whispered, his voice filled with gratitude and relief.
[...]
As Seungcheol sat alone in the dimly lit office, surrounded by the quiet emptiness of the building, a sense of clarity washed over him. He had been so determined to prove himself capable, to show his dadâand youâthat he could handle the responsibilities of running the company on his own. But as the days passed and the chaos of the company threatened to overwhelm him, he found himself feeling lost and unsure.
Now, as he looked around at the neatly organized piles of contracts, the meticulously scheduled meetings, and the completed spreadsheets on the computer screen, he finally understood why his dad had always relied on you so heavily. Despite your youth, you possessed a rare combination of competence, efficiency, and dedication that made you indispensable to the smooth operation of the company.
Seungcheol couldn't tear his eyes away from you as he watched from the other side of the table. The soft glow of the computer screen illuminated your face, casting shadows that danced across your features as you worked diligently.
Your unbuttoned white shirt and raised sleeves hinted at the long hours you had put in, while your hair, now gathered in a messy bun, spoke about the intensity of your focus. Despite the exhaustion that lingered in the lines of your face, there was a determined set to your jaw, a resilience that shone through even in the late hours of the night.
Seungcheol marveled at the sight of your manicured nails flying across the keyboard with practiced precision, effortlessly organizing the digital archives with a speed that left him in awe.
Seungcheol let out an exasperated sigh, his frustration evident as he leaned back in his chair, his gaze fixed on you with guilt. "I feel terrible," he admitted, his voice heavy with regret. "You shouldn't have had to resolve all of these problems. I took you away from your day off, and now you're stuck here dealing with all of this mess."
You couldn't help but smile at the poor boy, his sulky expression only serving to make him appear more endearing. "Hey, it's okay," you reassured him, your tone gentle as you reached across the table to place a comforting hand on his arm. "I'm already feeling better, thanks to you."
Seungcheol's expression softened at your words, a flicker of relief crossing his features. "I just wish I could have handled things better," he confessed, his voice tinged with self-doubt.
You shook your head, dismissing his concerns with a playful grin. "Well, you did leave fruits at my door," you teased, unable to resist poking fun at his earlier gesture of kindness. "So I'd say you're doing just fine."
Seungcheol couldn't help but let out a chuckle, his usual professional demeanor momentarily slipping as he made a lighthearted comment about your near fall earlier in the day. "Man, you were this close to eating floor," he quipped, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
You gasped in mock indignation, caught off guard by his informal tone. "Seungcheol!" you exclaimed, your hand flying to your chest in exaggerated shock. "I can't believe you just said that!"
But despite your feigned outrage, you couldn't suppress the laughter bubbling up inside you.
Seungcheol's laughter filled the air as he apologized, his voice laced with amusement. "Sorry, sorry," he repeated, his grin widening as he realized the playful banter between you.
You couldn't help but mock offense at his apology, feigning exaggerated indignation. "I'm deeply wounded," you joked, your tone dripping with sarcasm as you placed a hand dramatically over your heart. "How will I ever recover from such a grievous insult?"
Seungcheol laughed at your theatrics, the sound warm and genuine. "I'll make it up to you, I promise," he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "How about dinner? My treat."
You raised an eyebrow in mock skepticism, a playful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Hmm, I don't know," you teased, pretending to consider his offer. "I might need a more sincere apology than that."
But as you glanced at Seungcheol's earnest expression, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement at the prospect of spending more time together outside of work. With a grin, you relented, accepting his invitation with a playful wink. "Alright, dinner it is."
"Let's go," Seungcheol declared with a grin, his eyes alight with excitement.
You widened your eyes in surprise, a hint of disbelief creeping into your voice. "Tonight?" you echoed, unable to hide your astonishment.
Seungcheol nodded eagerly, his stomach rumbling audibly. "Yes, tonight," he confirmed, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "I'm starving."
With a smile, you rose from your seat, placing the neatly organized archives on the side of his desk. "Alright then, let's go," you agreed, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder.
As you made your way towards the exit of the empty, darkened building, you heard a surprised whistle from Seungcheol. You couldn't help but giggle at his reaction, turning to tease him playfully. "Afraid of ghosts, Seungcheol?" you teased, a mischievous twinkle in your eye.
Seungcheol scoffed, his expression mockingly indignant. "Please, the building is sinister at night," he retorted, his tone tinged with exaggeration. "How could you possibly spend nights here?"
As you walked side by side with Seungcheol towards the parking lot, the darkness of the night enveloping the empty streets, you couldn't resist teasing him about his earlier comment about the building being sinister.
"It's scarier during the day with that bunch of people around," you quipped with a playful grin, nudging him lightly with your elbow.
Seungcheol chuckled at your remark, his laughter filling the quiet night air. "Was I one of those people that scared you?" he asked, his tone laced with amusement.
You couldn't help but play along, feigning exaggerated fear as you imitated his walk with a comically exaggerated pout and furrowed eyebrows. "Oh, definitely," you replied with mock seriousness, your lips puckered into a pout. "You walk like this."
Seungcheol gasped dramatically, a hand flying to his chest in mock offense. "I'm hurt," he protested, his voice dripping with faux indignation. "I'm a friendly guy, you know."
As Seungcheol held the door of the car open for you, a small smile played at the corners of your lips as you settled into the seat. "You know, in the past, you were friendly with everyone but me," you remarked casually, fastening your seatbelt as he made his way around to the driver's seat. "It's surprising to see how gentle you're being right now."
Seungcheol chuckled at your observation, his laughter warm and genuine. "It wasn't always like this," he admitted as he started the car, the engine humming to life.
You scoffed lightly, shaking your head in mock disbelief. "Oh, please," you retorted, a playful glint in your eye. "I distinctly remember you going out of your way to avoid me at dinners in your house. You'd even skip dinner altogether because of me."
A smile tugged at the corners of Seungcheol's lips at your words, a hint of nostalgia coloring his expression as he navigated the quiet streets.
Seungcheol's voice was tinged with a hint of reluctance as he spoke, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. "I had my reasons," he murmured, a note of hesitation in his tone.
You raised an eyebrow in curiosity, turning to look at him expectantly. "And what might those reasons be?" you inquired, your tone playful yet genuinely curious.
But Seungcheol merely glanced at you briefly before returning his attention to the streets, a faint blush tinting his cheeks. "I'm not going to answer that," he replied firmly, his voice tinged with embarrassment.
You couldn't help but sulk at his refusal, crossing your arms over your chest. "Why not?" you pouted, unable to resist teasing him.
Seungcheol let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head in amusement. "Because it's embarrassing," he admitted sheepishly, his cheeks flushing slightly at the admission.
You couldn't resist pressing further, a playful glint in your eye as you leaned in closer. "Come on, Seungcheol, you can't leave me hanging like this," you teased, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. "I promise I won't laugh."
Seungcheol let out a soft sigh, his expression full of embarrassment and reluctance. "Fine," he relented, his cheeks still tinged with a faint blush. "But you have to promise not to make fun of me."
You nodded eagerly, your curiosity piqued. "I promise," you replied earnestly, your eyes wide with anticipation.
"The truth is..." Seungcheol began, he glanced at you briefly before returning his focus to the road ahead. "I was secretly in love with your impeccable taste in office supplies."
You blinked in surprise, caught off guard by his unexpected confession. For a moment, you were speechless, the weight of his words sinking in. But then you noticed the playful glint in his eyes, the mischievous curve of his lips, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes.
"Come on, Seungcheol," you scoffed, "Tell me the real reason."
But Seungcheol merely chuckled, a boyish grin spreading across his face as he feigned pain at your weak slaps on his shoulder. "Ouch, that hurts," he teased, his laughter filling the car.
Seungcheol's voice was hesitant as he spoke, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. "My dad would kill me if he heard me saying this, but..." he trailed off, his words hanging in the air.
"But what?" you prompted.
Seungcheol took a deep breath, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "At the time, I had a crush on you," he confessed, his admission hanging in the air between you.
You felt your breath catch in your throat, your mind racing as you processed his words. You stayed silent, unable to form a coherent response as a rush of emotions washed over you.
After a moment of tense silence, Seungcheol continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "And... I was jealous of you with my dad," he admitted.
A wheeze of laughter escaped your lips before you could stop it, and you clapped a hand over your mouth, trying to suppress the sudden burst of amusement. But it was too lateâonce the laughter started, it was impossible to hold back.
Seungcheol looked at you, a mixture of confusion and embarrassment crossing his features as he watched you dissolve into laughter. He bit his lip, trying to suppress a laugh of his own, but soon he couldn't hold it in any longer.
Seungcheol's voice carried a hint of mock indignation as he spoke. "You're laughing at my feelings?" he teased, a playful glint in his eyes.
You tried to stifle your laughter, shaking your head as tears of mirth streamed down your cheeks. "No, no," you managed to gasp out between giggles, "but... me? Your dad?" The absurdity of the situation struck you, and you dissolved into laughter once again, your body shaking with the force of it.
Seungcheol couldn't help but join in, his own laughter mingling with yours as he glanced at you with a mixture of amusement and embarrassment. "Okay, okay," he said, his voice tinged with laughter, "maybe it does sound a little ridiculous when you say it like that."
As the laughter subsided, you wiped away tears of mirth and leaned against the window, still chuckling softly to yourself.
You asked with a playful smile, your curiosity piqued. "Why me, Seungcheol?"
Seungcheol let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head as he glanced at you. "Well, think about it," he began, his tone lighthearted. "My dad spent every day with you, but I only saw you on special occasions. And every time I tried to catch your attention, you were busy with something with my dad." He chuckled again.
You couldn't help but laugh along with him, playfully shaking his shoulder. "Oh, so I didn't catch your charms at that time?" you teased, a mischievous twinkle in your eye.
Seungcheol grinned, his gaze meeting yours. "I guess not," he replied with a shrug, his tone teasing yet fond.
You couldn't resist teasing Seungcheol a little more. "And your charm was ignoring me when you saw me?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.
Seungcheol let out a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Okay, maybe I was a little nervous," he admitted, his cheeks flushing slightly.
You laughed at his confession, enjoying the playful banter between you. "Was I really that intimidating?" you asked, feigning surprise.
Seungcheol nodded emphatically, his eyebrows raised in seriousness. "Definitely," he replied.
He continued, "I mean, we're almost the same age, but every time I saw you at dinner, you came looking like a lawyer ready to win a case."
You couldn't help but be curious. "And why didn't you tell me?" you asked, your tone gentle.
Seungcheol paused for a moment, his expression thoughtful. "Honestly, before, I didn't really know how to tell you," he confessed, "I wasn't exactly experienced in... well, talking to girls, let alone asking them out on dates."
You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his admission. "And now?" you pressed.
Seungcheol turned to you, a warm smile gracing his features, as the car pulled up to the restaurant, Seungcheol got out and hurried around to open the door for you, gesturing for you to step out. "Well, I'd like to think I've gotten a little better at it," he replied, his tone light.
You chuckled softly, stepping out of the car and allowing him to guide you towards the entrance of the restaurant. "I'd say you've definitely improved," you remarked, a teasing glint in your eye.
Seungcheol chuckled, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "The old Seungcheol would be freaking out right now if he knew he is now taking you to dinner," he admitted, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.
As you settled into your seats at the restaurant, the ambiance around you buzzing with the soft hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses. Seungcheol sat across from you, a playful smile dancing on his lips as he perused the menu.
"So, Seungcheol," you began, your voice laced with mischief, "tell me about your crush on me when you were just a boy."
Seungcheol's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his gaze meeting yours. "Well," he began, a mischievous twinkle in his eye, "let's just say, my crush on you hasn't exactly faded over the years."
You couldn't help but laugh at his bold confession, the unexpectedness of his words catching you off guard. "Oh, really?" you replied, a teasing smile playing on your lips. "And here I thought you were just taking me out to dinner as a friendly gesture."Â
You drink a sip of wine, "Imagine if your dad finds out about this little dinner date, Mr. Choi SeungcheolâŚ"
Seungcheol's smirk widened at your response, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "And if he finds out?" he teased, his tone light yet filled with confidence.
You raised your chin slightly, meeting his gaze with a knowing look. "Well, Seungcheol," you replied, your voice steady, "it's not exactly ethical for a boss to take his employees on dates."
Seungcheol's smirk only grew, his confidence unwavering as he leaned forward slightly. "I think I can decide what's ethical while I'm in charge," he countered, his tone playful yet determined. "And besides, what harm could it do after your shift?"
You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in playful skepticism at Seungcheol's suggestion. "Is it normal to take female employees on dates?" you asked, your tone teasing yet curious. "I'm sure the other girls would be interested to know."
Seungcheol's gaze softened as he met your eyes, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I can't speak for anyone else," he replied, his voice low and sincere, "but I only have eyes for one woman in this company."
You couldn't deny the flutter of excitement mixed with apprehension as Seungcheol's gaze locked with yours, his smile causing your heart to race. "Seungcheol..." you began, your voice trailing off as you searched for the right words.
Seungcheol's smile widened, a playful glint in his eyes as he leaned forward slightly. "Yes?" he prompted, his voice low.
You took a deep breath, steeling yourself as you meet his gaze. "I have to admit," you started, your voice steady despite the racing of your heart, "it's not exactly the most conventional situation, considering you're the son of my boss."
Seungcheol's smile remained, his eyes twinkling. "Well, technically, I am your boss," he teased.
You raised an eyebrow, "Is that supposed to sound better?" you retorted, a hint of amusement in your voice.
Seungcheol chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair as he met your gaze with a knowing look. "With that title," he replied, his voice laced with playful arrogance, "I can bend the rules a little."
You held your breath for a moment, nodding in acknowledgment of Seungcheol's words. But as you met his gaze once more, a determined look in your eyes, you couldn't help but shake your head slightly.
"You won't win me over that easily," you declared, your voice firm yet tinged with a hint of playfulness.
Seungcheol's smile faltered slightly, a spark of challenge igniting in his eyes as he leaned forward once more. "Challenge accepted," he replied, his voice filled with determination.
You couldn't help but smirk as you leaned back in your chair, your gaze locked with Seungcheol's.
Seungcheol's breath caught in his throat, his expression shifting from playful to slightly flustered. "Damn, don't look at me like that," he muttered under his breath, his cheeks flushing slightly.
You couldn't suppress a laugh at his reaction, feeling a sense of satisfaction at the way you were able to tease him. "Like what?" you teased.
Seungcheol shook his head slightly, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Like you know exactly what you're doing,"
You couldn't resist the urge to playfully tease Seungcheol, so you tilted your head and fixed him with an intense gaze. "Like this?" you asked, your voice soft but tinged with amusement.
Seungcheol's breath hitched slightly, his feet shifting nervously under the table as he looked away from you, unable to meet your gaze. You couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at the effect you were having on him, a mischievous smile playing on your lips as you watched his reaction.
Seungcheol let out a slow exhale, his eyes flickering back to meet yours briefly before darting away again. "Yeah, like that," he mumbled, his voice slightly strained.
You couldn't help but chuckle softly at his response, enjoying the playful banter between the two of you. "Good to know I still have that effect on you," you teased, a playful glint in your eye.
Seungcheol rolled his eyes playfully, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, yeah, don't get too cocky now," he replied, his tone light but filled with warmth.
As the dinner drew to a close and both of you felt the weariness of the day settling in, Seungcheol pulled up in front of your apartment building. You exchanged a few final words, the playful banter still lingering between you as you prepared to part ways.
With a smirk, you couldn't resist teasing Seungcheol one last time before you left. "Well, thanks for the dinner, boss," you said, your voice laced with a hint of mischief.
Seungcheol chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement. "Anytime, secretary," he replied, his tone teasing yet filled with warmth.
Before you stepped out of the car, you leaned in to plant a quick kiss on Seungcheol's cheek, a gesture of gratitude. "Goodnight, Seungcheol," you said with a smile, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you.
"Goodnight, Y/N," Seungcheol replied, his voice soft as he returned your smile.
With one final wave, you stepped out of the car and watched as Seungcheol drove off into the nightä¸giggling like a little girl.
You lay in your bed, the soft sheets providing a feeling of comfort after a long day. Your mind starts to wonder as you take in the moment of silence. That is, until your cellphone interrupts your thoughts with notifications from Seungcheol.
You glanced down at your phone and couldn't suppress a smile when you saw Seungcheol's message. It read, "Since you're such a busy woman, I thought I'd save you the trouble and make plans for Saturday. I'll pick you up in the morning and we'll spend the day at the summer house."
With a playful glint in your eye, you quickly replied, "Just like your dad to invite me to the summer house, huh?"
A moment later, Seungcheol's response came through. "Yes, but this time, you'll go," he wrote, his tone confident yet filled with warmth.
You couldn't resist teasing him a bit more. "Who guarantees that?" you typed quickly, a smirk playing on your lips as you sent the message.
A moment later, your phone buzzed with Seungcheol's response. "I do" he replied confidently. "And if that's not enough, I can promise you good food, great company, and a beautiful view. What more could you want?"
You chuckled softly, appreciating his playful persistence. "Alright, you win. I'll be ready," you responded, feeling a flutter of excitement for the upcoming weekend.
"Great! Looking forward to it," Seungcheol replied with a smiley face emoji.
Just as he promised, Seungcheol stopped in front of your apartment in the morning. You stepped out of the building, the bright sun shining down, and made your way to his car. You were wearing sunglasses and a sundress, a look quite different from the usual office attire Seungcheol was accustomed to seeing you in.
As you slid into the passenger seat, Seungcheol gave you an appreciative once-over and grinned. "Well, look at you," he teased, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "I almost didn't recognize you without the high heels and power suit."
You laughed, adjusting your sunglasses. "Surprised, huh? I do have a life outside the office, you know."
He chuckled as he started the car. "I must say, I like this version of you." Seungcheol glanced over at you, a playful smirk on his lips. "Finally, I thought you would never get to see our summer house," he teased.
You chuckled, adjusting your sunglasses. "Well, your dad always invited me on weekends to spend the day with you and your brother. I guess I just never took him up on the offer."
Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise in his eyes. "Really? My dad wanted you to spend time with us?"
"Yeah," you nodded, smiling at the memory. "He would always insist, but I didn't want to intrude on your family time."
Seungcheol shook his head, laughing softly. "You wouldn't have been intruding. My dad probably wanted you there to keep me and my brother in line."
You chuckled at Seungcheol's playful response, shaking your head in amusement. "Of course, you were terrible. I needed to choose my peace," you teased, a playful glint in your eye.
Seungcheol laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "No way, my dad told you about all the things we've done?" he exclaimed, sounding genuinely surprised.
You nodded with a smirk. "Yeah, I saved you two from a lot of mess already. I needed to remind your dad to take you two off punishment more than once."
Seungcheol's lips curled into a mischievous smile as he glanced at you. "Let me reward you then?" he suggested, his tone laced with teasing.
You raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "Bold move, Seungcheol," you teased, a playful smirk on your lips.
"I grew up, Noona," he proclaimed with the new nickname, his voice dripping with a flirtatious undertone. "I'm not that little boy anymore."
You smirked at his comment, intrigued to see where he was going with this. "Ooh, do go on, Seungcheol," you responded, your tone laced with playful curiosity. "What, pray tell, has changed since I last saw you?"
Seungcheol chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter. His smile widened, revealing a glimpse of the boyish charm that still clung to him. "Well, I've grown a little taller, for starters," he admitted, a hint of bravado in his voice. "And I've gained some muscle too."
You couldn't help but playfully tease him further, a challenge in your eyes as your lips curled into a mischievous smile. "Grown taller, you say?" you retorted, a hint of sarcasm in your voice. "And gained some muscle? Aren't you just the pinnacle of maturity now?"
Seungcheol's eyes twinkled as he met your gaze, clearly enjoying the banter. "Oh, don't worry, Noona, I still have my charming ways," he teased, a flirtatious grin settling on his face.
As the conversation continued, Seungcheol's cheeks flushed slightly as he confessed, "The old me couldn't even bring himself to ask out his crush, much less invite her to the summer house to spend time together alone."
Your surprise was evident as you echoed, "Alone? Just the two of us?" A newfound realization dawned on you, and you couldn't help but wonder, "Is that why you invited me, Seungcheol?"
He flashed you a sheepish smile and nodded, his embarrassment adding a touch of charm to his confession.
Seungcheol's flushed cheeks and bashful demeanor confirmed the truth of his revelation. He chuckled nervously. "Yeah, I guess it is," he admitted, scratching the back of his neck. "I wanted some alone time with you, Noona."
"Alone in a romantic summer house?" you echoed, your voice tinged with a touch of tease. "Well, I suppose we could enjoy the scenic views, relax by the pool, and indulge in some good food and wine. But I have a feeling you had something specific in mind, Seungcheol. Care to enlighten me?"
Seungcheol's gaze flicked up to the rearview mirror, his eyes widening ever so slightly as he caught your suggestive question. A subtle blush crept onto his cheeks, and he bit his lip shyly, clearly embarrassed by the direction the conversation was taking.
He chuckled nervously. "Oh, no, Noona, not that." He quickly added, "I just wanted to spend some quality time with you, you know? Talk, laugh, just have fun together."
"Well, if I wasn't worried about distracting the driver, I might say something even more suggestive," you teased, a mischievous smile playing on your lips.
Seungcheol flushed deeper, his grip on the steering wheel tightening slightly as he tried to focus on the road. "Noona, please," he pleaded, his voice tinged with embarrassment and something you couldn't read well. "It's hard enough to concentrate as it is. Don't make it harder."
"You're not getting nervous, are you? Is the thought of being alone with me in a romantic summer house too much for you?"
"Hush, Noona," he said with a light-hearted scold, giving you a quick glance. "Can you not talk like that while I'm driving?"Â his voice slightly strained.
"Relax, Seungcheol," you teased leaning on your seat again. "It's just a little harmless fun. But if it's making you this flustered, I suppose I'll keep the dirty talk for later."
"Please do," he replied, his tone flustered and entertained. "Let's save the risquĂŠ topics for when we're not on the road, okay?"
You chuckled, finding his bashfulness endearing. "Alright, alright, I'll behave," you said, lifting your hands in mock surrender. "For now."
"I think the boldest one here is you, from what I see."Â
You grinned at his observation, "Oh, you're just noticing that now, Seungcheol?" you teased. "I've always been the bolder one between the two of us. But don't worry, I'll try not to overwhelm you with my boldness."
"I have no doubts about that, Noona," he replied, "Bring on the surprises later. I can handle it."
As you continued your playful banter with Seungcheol, you noticed a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. Years of harboring a secret crush on you, struggling to hide his true feelings, had taken a toll on him.Â
Deep down, he was tired of waiting, desperate to express the admiration he held for you. You wondered how much longer he could keep his feelings restrained, how much more pent-up emotion he could bear before they would inevitably burst forth.
As you stepped into the summer house, the pure air filling your lungs, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement. Turning to glance at Seungcheol, the reality of the situation finally hitting youä¸just the two of you. A soft smile curved your lips as you took in the peaceful atmosphere.
Seungcheol, too, seemed affected by the realization.
As you glanced around, your eyes fell upon the family portraits hanging on the wall. There was a charming photo of Seungcheol and his brother hugging their mother, another one capturing Mr. Choi tenderly kissing Mrs. Choi. Your gaze then moved to a playful shot of them both splashing water, and finally, a picture of Seungcheol himself. As you stood there admiring the memories, you felt a warm presence behind you.
With his arms crossed and a wide grin on his face, Seungcheol stood by your side, clearly amused by your initial reaction.
You couldn't help but let out a quiet chuckle, finding Seungcheol's amused expression endearing. Turning to face him, you commented, "Looks like Mr. and Mrs. Choi couldn't keep their hands off each other."
Seungcheol laughed lightly, his eyes twinkling. "Yeah, they've always been like that," he replied. "They're not exactly shy about their affection for each other."
"Are you really this egotistical, displaying your own picture on the wall like this?"
Seungcheol chuckled, his smile widening as he playfully rolled his eyes at your teasing. "Oh please, Noona," he replied, "It's not my fault you're just now realizing how irresistibly handsome I am."
You chuckled, shaking your head in amusement. "Alright, alright," you conceded, "You win this round, ego extraordinaire. But I must admit, you've always been quite handsome, even if it's a bit exaggerated." You smirked playfully.
Seungcheol grinned, basking in the compliment. "Aww, so you finally admit it, do you?" he teased, a cocky smile on his face.
As you playfully warned him not to get cocky, Seungcheol couldn't resist the temptation. He stepped closer, his hands gently settling on your waist. You could feel his breath ghosting over your lips, his eyes intense and captivating.Â
However, you playfully resisted, pushing him away and throwing him a challenging glance. As you walked away, you gave him one last sultry look over your shoulder before disappearing into the next room.
Seungcheol stood there for a moment, dumbfounded by the unexpected turn of events. A combination of surprise and desire coursed through him as he tried to compose himself, his heart racing.
His eyes gleamed with a combination of desire and disappointment, but a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. It was clear that the game had only just begun.
The night had crept upon you, enveloping the summer house in a gentle embrace. As you sat on the balcony, sipping on a bottle of wine, you savored the simple pleasure of sharing a meal with Seungcheol.
The soft glow of the moonlight cast a warm, enchanting ambiance, and the distant sound of the television from within the house provided a pleasant background melody. You found yourself lost in the moment, feeling completely⌠content in his company.
As you let the flavors of the wine wash over your palate, you paused for a moment, your thoughts wandering to your recent travels. A hint of nostalgia tinged your voice as you spoke. "You know," you began, "I can't recall the last time I took a trip that wasn't connected to work."
You chuckled, swirling the wine in your glass, your eyes fixed on the liquid's dance. "Ah, yes," you responded with a wry smile. "Even if it is my... boss's house." you echoed his words, a hint of dry humor in your tone.
Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "Feeling a bit cheeky, are we?" he taunted, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. "Watch your words, or I might have to dock your pay later."
You laughed, playfully sticking out your tongue at his jest. "Oh, you wouldn't dare," you retorted, a smirk on your lips. "What would the company do without my fabulous work?"
Seungcheol's grin widened, his eyes gleaming. "Ah, you've got me there," he conceded, raising a hand in mock surrender. "I guess I'll just have to find some other way to punish you for that sharp tongue of yours."
You smirked, taking another sip of your wine, and teasingly asked, "Oh, what are we talking about, indeed?" The question hung in the air, laced with a hint of provocation. You knew perfectly well what you were discussing, but you couldn't resist the urge to tease him further.
Seungcheol chuckled, shaking his head at your playfulness. He leaned back in his chair, a suggestive glint in his eyes. "You know exactly what we're talking about," he replied.
You raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Do I now?" you said, a mischievous smile on your lips. "And what might that be, pray tell?"
Seungcheol saw through your act, his gaze locking onto yours. He leaned in closer, his voice lowering to a sultry tone. "Oh, don't act all coy with me, Noona," he murmured, his eyes fixed on yours. "You know exactly what we've been dancing around."
You stared into Seungcheol's eyes, the intensity of his gaze setting your heart racing.
Seungcheol's voice dropped to a whisper, his words laced with seductive undertones. "We've been dancing around it all night, skirting around the subject..." he murmured, grazing his fingers lightly against yours.
"But enough games, Noona... You know exactly where this is heading."
As Seungcheol got up from his seat and moved behind you, his hands gently massaging your shoulders and neck, you closed your eyes, enjoying the soothing touch of his hands.Â
A soft moan escaped your lips, and you couldn't help but teasingly ask, "So sure of yourself, aren't you, Seungcheol? But what makes you so sure I want this, too?"Â
"Ah, Noona, you're a difficult woman to read sometimes," he teased. "But the way you respond to my touch... I can feel the desire building in your body, just like mine."
Seungcheol chuckled, his fingers skillfully working the tension out of your shoulders. He apparently knew exactly how to make you melt under his touch. "Oh, Noona," he drawled, his voice laced with certainty and amusement. "Your body betrays you. Your sighs, your reactions... I can feel the way you lean into my touch. You can try to hide it all you want, but deep down, you want this just as much as I do."
You felt your breath catch in your throat at his words, your breath hitched in agreement to his perception, your body's response betraying your own longing.
Seungcheol's hands continued their ministrations, his touch growing bolder. "You can deny it if you want," he murmured, trailing gentle kisses along your neck, "But your body tells the truth, Noona."
As Seungcheol's lips gently traced along your neck, you found yourself melting even more under his touch, your defenses crumbling. But just as abruptly, you snapped out of the blissful haze, realizing the need to regain control over your emotions. You quickly stood up, breaking the intimate contact.
Seungcheol looked momentarily taken aback, you could see the flicker of confusion in his face, as he tried to understand the sudden change in your demeanor.
You caught a glimpse of his parted lips, still moist from their previous closeness against your skin.
"Noona..." he whispered, his voice laced with concern. "Is everything alright? Did I... did I go too far?"
Your breath shuddered nervously, emotions swirling within you like a raging tempest. You held onto his hands. You look into his eyes, seeing the desperation and longing there. He seems ready to ask for all of you, but the sheer intensity of his gaze makes you hesitate.
"Seungcheol," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper. "It's not that I don't want this but... your family, our work, the company... it's justâ"
Before you can finish your sentence, Seungcheol silences you with a gentle finger on your lips. His smile widens, and with a reassuring expression, he shakes his head slightly. "Sshh," he whispers, his eyes filled with understanding. "I know what you're thinking, Noona. You're worried about everything that could happen. But right now, in this moment, all I want is to be close to you. Nothing else matters."
"Cheolâ"
"You worry too much, Noona," he whispers gently, "Just let yourself feel what's between us."
"C'mere." As Seungcheol guides your steps towards the main bedroom, his warm presence enveloping you, he stands before you, gently lifting your chin.
His gaze captures yours, his voice filled with desire and intent. "For once in your life, Noona," he whispers, his touch on your chin light. "Do exactly what you really want."
With a confident smile, Seungcheol leans closer, his breath brushing against your skin. "Or," he continues, his words carrying a hint of playfulness, "I will."
His proximity ignited a spark within you, evoking a sense of youthful freedom.
Memories of missed opportunities and fleeting moments flood your mind. You bite your smile as you find yourself drawn to his infectious energy and the intoxicating vibe he exudes.
"I dare you," you murmur softly, your voice infused with anticipation. "Show me what you've got, Seungcheol."
As Seungcheol leaned in closer and claimed your lips in a passionate kiss. ä¸a long awaited kissä¸His fingers tenderly brushed against the nape of your neck, while his other hand gripped your waist, scrunching the dress between his fingers.
Your bodies pressed close together, you could feel the fervent thudding of Seungcheol's heart against your chest, mirroring the desperate beats of your own heart. His tongue danced with yours, igniting sparks of desire with every caress. As you allowed your fingers to bury into the softness of his hair, you heard a low, needy moan escape his lips.
As Seungcheol laid you on the expansive bed, his fingers gently encircling your waist, while he held one of your thighs, you felt a rush of heat as he settled between your legs.
The bed felt plush and inviting, while the soft silk of the sheets caressed your skin. With a suggestive motion, he simulated a thrust, and a gasp of pleasure escaped your lips, mingling with the intoxicating friction between your bodies.
Seungcheol gently lifted your dress over your head, revealing your naked form. His breath hitched in his throat as his eyes roamed over your exposed skin, and a whine escaped from deep within his chest. He buried his face into your neck, his voice ragged as he whispered.
"Have you been walking around like this all night, Noona? Wearing nothing underneath that dress this whole time?"
You chuckled, biting your bottom lip.
"Can it be possible, Noona..." "You cooked with me," Seungcheol whispered, his voice growing heated with each word, "went shopping at the vineyard, wore that enticing dress, and were completely naked under it the wholâ fuck." He couldn't help but let out a playful moan against your neck. "You're driving me crazy, Noona."
As Seungcheol's hand continued its languid path across your body, tracing a languid trail along the valley of your breasts, down your stomach, and finally finding its destination between your thighs, he let out an appreciative hum of satisfaction. "Mmmm," he murmured, his voice dripping with approval.
He parts your thighs, his fingers slipping between your folds, teasing you with gentle, deliberate strokes. "You're already so wet," he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. "All this for me?" He slides a finger inside you, curling it just right, and then, adds another, making you arch your back and moan.
"Cheol," you gasp, your hands gripping the sheets as your body trembles under his touch.
He smirks, looking down at where his fingers are disappearing inside you. The wet sounds are so loud that they almost drown out your whimpers. "Look at how you take my fingers," he murmurs, his voice dripping with lust.Â
Your eyes follow his gaze, watching his fingers move in and out of you, slick with your arousal. The sight and the sound of it drive you wild, making you squirm and whimper even more. Seungcheol's thumb finds your clit, pressing and circling it in a way that makes you see stars.
"You're so tight Noona," he groans, his own arousal evident in his voice. "I can't wait to feel you around my cock."
You moan, feeling the pleasure build to an almost unbearable level. His fingers press deeper, and you clench around them, so tight that his fingers almost slide out of you with each pulse of your walls. Seungcheol bites his lip, trying to maintain his composure, but it's not working.
Without warning, he slides down the bed, positioning himself between your legs. He devours your pussy with a hunger that makes you scream, your body flinching on the bed from the overwhelming sensation. His hot tongue flicks and swirls around your clit, and he drinks you in, savoring every drop of your arousal.
"Cheol, oh my god!" you cry out, your hands flying to his hair, fingers gripping tightly.
He holds you still, his strong hands pressing down on your hips as you writhe beneath him. The combination of his tongue and fingers is driving you wild, and you can feel the orgasm building rapidly. He slides one hand up your body, finding your nipple and rolling the bud between his fingers, making you burn in pleasure.
"You're so perfect," he murmurs against your folds, his voice vibrating through you. "So fucking sweet."
Your moans grow louder, the sensations overwhelming your senses. Seungcheol's tongue moves with expert precision, and when he adds another finger inside you, curling them too, you can't hold back any longer. Your orgasm crashes over you, and you scream his name, your body convulsing with pleasure.
Seungcheol doesn't stop, his mouth and fingers working you through your orgasm, extending it until you're a quivering, whimpering mess beneath him. Only when you're completely spent does he finally pull back, looking up at you with a satisfied smile. His lips glisten with your cum, and his eyes are dark with desire.
"That's my good girl," he praises, sliding back up your body to kiss you deeply. You can taste yourself on his lips, and it only makes you want him more. "Now, let's see how tight you are around my cock."
Seungcheol starts to strip, his eyes never leaving yours as he reveals his toned, muscular body. You wait, watching him with the 'fuck me' eyes. As he finally removes the last piece of clothing, you seize the moment.
With a swift, confident movement, you grab him and push him back onto the bed. He falls back, his eyes widening in surprise. You straddle his naked body, your own arousal evident as you press your pussy against him. His hands slide to your hips, gripping you tightly.
He looks up at you, a devilish smile playing on his lips. "Fuck, I'm in trouble," he murmurs, his voice dripping with admiration. "You're going to be the death of me."
You smirk, leaning down to capture his lips in a searing kiss, your bodies aligning perfectly. "Then let's make it worth it," you whisper against his mouth, feeling his cock harden beneath you.Â
You grab Seungcheol's cock, aligning it with your wet, eager pussy. As you slide down onto him, you feel the delicious stretch, and your head falls back, mouth slack with pleasure. Seungcheol bites his lip, almost tasting blood, his mind racing with random thoughts to avoid cumming too soon.
"Fuck," he moans, his voice strained as his eyebrows furrow in concentration.
You bottom out, and the sensation is overwhelming. Seungcheol's hands grip your hips tightly, his eyes dark with desire as he tries to keep his composure. The feeling of your tightness around him is almost too much to bear, but he holds on, savoring every moment.
"Too much already?" you purred. "We've barely begun, Seungcheol," you whispered, your breath catching as your core quivered against his tantalizing touch.
As you raised your hips slightly, allowing yourself to sink back down onto Seungcheol, he let out a trembling breath, his eyes closing as his jaw went slack with pleasure. Despite his valiant attempt at forming a response, all that escaped his lips was a strained "Noona" as his body trembled beneath you.Â
You start to ride him, bouncing up and down, your juices splashing at the base of his cock. Each time you sink down, Seungcheol's body shudders, moving in rhythm with you. His hands grip your hips, trying to guide your movementsä¸but mostly just holding on for dear life.
"Fuck, Y/N" Seungcheol groans again, his voice filled with raw need. His eyes are glued to where your bodies join, watching as you take him in over and over. "You're so fucking perfect," he mutters, barely able to keep his composure as your tightness drives him wild. The sensation is almost too much, but he holds on, wanting to prolong this intense pleasure for as long as he can.
To give your legs a rest, you start to circle your hips, grinding on him, feeling the tip of his cock hitting your g'spot perfectly. Seungcheol's hands slide up your body, one settling on your breast, squeezing gently, while the other grips your waist, guiding your movements.
"Fuck, that's it," he groans, his eyes rolling back at the sensation. "You feel so fucking good." His voice is husky, filled with desperation as he tries to hold on. His thumb finds your clit, rubbing it in circles to match the rhythm of your hips.
You moan loudly, your head falling back as the pleasure builds even more intensely. "Cheol," you gasp, "I can't hold it much longer." Your body trembles, every nerve ending on fire.
"Don't hold back, baby, don't hold it" he urges, his voice strained but filled with encouragement. "Let go for me. Cum all over my cock."
You hold a little longer to ask him, "How does it feel, Seungcheol," you whisper, "to finally have the woman you've had a longstanding crush on, sitting on you like this?"
Seungcheol stutters, his breath hitching as he feels your walls clenching and unclenching purposely around him. "F-fuck, Noona," he groans, his voice shaky and full of raw need. "It's... it's everything I ever dreamed of and more."
You smirk, enjoying the power you have over him. "Is that so?" you tease, grinding your hips in slow, deliberate circles. "I never knew you had such dirty fantasies about me."
He bites his lip, his hands gripping your hips tighter. "You have no idea," he admits, his voice low and strained. "Iâve wanted you for so long. Seeing you like this... feeling you like this... itâs driving me insane."
You lean down, your lips brushing against his ear. "Good," you whisper, clenching around him again. "I want you to remember this feeling, Seungcheol. Every time you look at me, I want you to remember how it feels to be inside me."
He shudders, a deep, guttural moan escaping his lips. "I won't forget," he promises, his hands moving up to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. "I'll never forget this, Noona."
You lean down further, your breath hot against his ear. "Seungcheol," you whisper, your voice sultry and teasing, "I can feel how close you are. Do you want to cum inside me? Do you want to fill me up with everything you've got?"
His eyes widen, and he lets out a strangled moan, his hips bucking up involuntarily. "Fuck, Noona, you're gonna make meâ"
You cut him off with a sharp thrust, feeling his cock throb inside you. "Tell me how good it feels," you demand, your own voice trembling with need. "Tell me how much you love fucking me."
"It feels so fucking good," he gasps, his fingers digging into your hips. "I love it, Noona. I love fucking you so much. You're so tight, so wet, I can't hold onâ"
You can feel your own orgasm building, spurred on by his desperate words and the intensity of his gaze. "That's it, baby," you purr, riding him harder. "Cum for me, Seungcheol. Fill me up. I want to feel you cumming inside me."
His eyes roll back, and he grips you even tighter. "I'm gonnaâfuck, I'm cummingâ"
"Fuä¸... ahh,"
As Seungcheol's release fills you to the brim, you feel a warm, liquid sensation spreading inside you, overflowing with his essence. He holds you close, pressing your bodies together as if to recompose the bond between you.
Just as you're catching your breath and basking in the afterglow, Seungcheol suddenly flips you over onto the bed with a determined look in his eyes. His hands roam over your body, trailing fire wherever they touch, and you can feel the familiar ache building within you once again.
"I need to make you cum again Noona."Â "Now, let me take care of you."
With a sudden burst of energy, Seungcheol flips you over onto your stomach, his hands roaming eagerly over your body as he prepares to make you cum all over again.
Seungcheol's cock enters you deep and sloppy, the abundance of lubrication spilling out around him. You scream into the sheets as he presses your head down onto the bed, his movements becoming more assertive as he thrusts into you with purpose.
Your breath grew sharper with every thrust, each one pushing you closer to the precipice.
"I've imagined this moment... countless times," he whispered, his voice low and husky. "Having you like this... under me, writhing and gasping."
"So⌠Ah! Nasty, Seungcheol!"Â
Seungcheol couldn't help but chuckle at your teasing remark, his eyes filled with both affection and desire. As he continued to drive into you, he replied with a playful smack on the ample flesh of your ass.
"You have no idea," he murmured.
As you felt the wave of pleasure wash over you, your vision temporarily white in the overwhelming sensations, his name left your throat all whiny and strained. Seungcheol couldn't help but whine in response to his own heightened sensitivity.Â
He wanted to please you, to bring you to climax, but the overwhelming experience only made him more reactive to your every move and sound.
The intensity of your climax began to subside, your body finally melting into the sheets, Seungcheol stumbled off the bed, his legs trembling from the intense sex.Â
He made his way to the bathroom, seeking out some wipes to gently clean you up, his own breaths still ragged and unsteady.
As Seungcheol returned with the wipes, he found you lying there, chest heaving and breath labored. He crawled back into bed next to you, gently beginning to clean you up, his touch tender and caring.
"You alright there, Noona?" he asked, a hint of concern mingling with his breathless voice. "I didn't... hurt you, did I?"
You reached out, gently running your fingers through Seungcheol's messed hair, a weary yet satisfied smile playing on your lips.
"I'm okay, babyâŚ" you whispered, your voice filled with contentment.Â
He couldn't help but bite back a smile at your choice of words.
As Seungcheol continued his gentle ministrations, cleaning you up with the wipes, taking care to not overwhelm you when he brushes the wipes against your clit.
"Baby?" he echoed, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Is that what you're calling me now?" Despite the teasing tone, there was a warmth in his eyes that betrayed his affection
"You're such a big baby SeungcheolâŚ"
In response to your lighthearted comment, Seungcheol couldn't help but chuckle. He leaned down and planted a gentle kiss on your shoulder before responding.
"Well, I am big, you're not wrong about that," he replied, a mischievous grin on his face. "But I guess 'big baby' suits me just fine, especially if it's coming from you."
As Seungcheol finished cleaning you up, he tossed the wipes aside and draped an arm around your middle, pulling you closer. He leaned in, peppering soft kisses along your neck and shoulder, his touch gentle.
"And your image," he continued, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "riding me like that... it's something I'll never forget. It's the most beautiful sight I've ever seen."
"Did you like it?" You ask him, giving a glance over your shoulder.Â
Seungcheol furrowed his brows, giving you a slightly exasperated look, as if the answer should have been obvious. "Noona, that was a rhetorical question, right?" he teased, a hint of affectionate amusement in his voice. "Of course I liked it."
[...]
In the soft morning light, sunlight trickled into the room, and you woke to the gentle sensation of Seungcheol's fingers running through your hair. As your eyes slowly opened, you found him already dressed, looking striking in the warm glow.
"Noona," he whispered, his gaze tender and filled with affection. "My parents... they're here."
Hearing this, you instantly sat upright in bed, your eyes widening in shock.
The realization that Seungcheol's parents had arrived hit you like a bolt of lightning. You hastily stumbled out of bed, making a beeline for the bathroom, leaving him chuckling at your flustered state.
You quickly emerged from the bathroom, your hair still damp and clinging to your skin, a bath towel wrapped tightly around your body. You found Seungcheol lounging on the bed, casually scrolling through his phone.
"Cheol," you began with a slight scowl, "why didn't you tell me your parents arrived earlier? I could've prepared myself better!"
Seungcheol shrugged apologetically, a hint of sheepishness in his expression. "Honestly, Noona, I had no idea they were coming either," he admitted, offering a sincere smile. "They didn't give a heads up, and I couldn't warn you beforehand."
You let out a sigh, the lingering worry evident on your face. "It's not just about that," you murmured, "What will they think of me... sleeping with you⌠their son, my boss?"
"Noona, my parents aren't like that," he assured you, gently squeezing your hand. "They won't judge you based on your relationship to me or your job. They see the person you are, and that's all that matters."
He chuckled softly, attempting to lighten the mood. "Besides, I'm pretty sure they already love you just because you're so good at bossing me around."
You playfully gave Seungcheol's shoulder a gentle slap, your worries momentarily replaced by a smile. As you both left the bedroom, he wrapped an arm around your shoulder, guiding you towards the living room.
You had worked closely with Seungcheol's father for years, and the thought of them knowing about your intimate relationship was nerve-wracking. Yet, Seungcheol's calming presence beside you helped ease your nerves.
Mr. Choi regarded you with a warm and teasing smile as you bowed in greeting. "Ah, there she is!" he exclaimed with feigned, feigned, disappointment. "The famous Y/N who refuses my invitations to the summerhouse. But with my son, suddenly she finds the time."
Mrs. Choi chuckled softly at her husband's jest, her eyes filled with warmth.
You felt a warmth spread across your cheeks, totally embarrassed. "I'm truly sorry, Mr. Choi," you apologized, your voice soft. "It's just... Seungcheol has a way of convincing me."
Mr. Choi's eyes gleamed with an affectionate pride as he spoke. "When Seungcheol was younger," he began, gesturing with his hands, "he used to come to me, curious about you. He would ask, 'Father, do you think Noona could be interested in someone like me?'"
His voice was tinged with amusement as he continued, "I always told him, 'Son, Y/N is quite the catch. You just need to be patient, and show her your true self.' And look where we are now."
"'How is Noona today?' 'What's Noona doing?' 'When is Noona coming to visit?'" His mom continues.Â
Seungcheol's face flushed a deeper shade of red, and he hurriedly covered his face with his hands, visibly embarrassed by his father's words. You seized the opportunity to add to the teasing, a playful grin on your face.
"Oh, Cheollie," you teased, "So it's true, you were quite smitten with me even back then. How utterly endearing."
#seventeen reactions#seventeen headcanons#seventeen imagines#seventeen scenarios#seventeen smut#seventeen x reader#svt smut#seventeen#seventeen fluff#svt imagines#seventeen fanfic#svt fanfic#svt x reader#seungcheol smut#seungcheol imagines#seungcheol fanfic#seungcheol x reader#seungcheol x you#seungcheol#scoups smut#scoups x reader#scoups x you#scoups x y/n#choi seungcheol#seventeen seungcheol#seungcheol fluff#scoups#choi seungcheol fluff#choi seungcheol imagines
7K notes
¡
View notes
Text
My dearest Yve,
I actually teared up reading thisâno joke. The fact that you took the time to write such an in-depth analysis and appreciation for the little details means the world to me. It genuinely overwhelmed me (in the best way possible). So, in return, Iâm going to take my time to respond to each and every one of your comments. But first, I owe you an apology for taking so long to reply... ms girl had a little detour to A&E over the weekend LMFAO (Iâm fine now!).
You raised such a great point about how loud MC was when she threw the can. I actually debated whether I should keep that in, but ultimately, I left it because I felt it reflected the impulsive nature of humans. At that moment, she was starving and had risked her life to find food only to discover that it was rotten. I wanted to capture that raw frustration. The fact that this was the very first paragraph and you already caught onto such a small detail blows my mind.
YES! In every zombie film or show Iâve seen, the biggest threat is almost never the zombies. And thatâs the irony, isnât it? Because zombies were humans once. It really highlights how, dead or undead, human beings are always the ultimate apex predators.
Thank you for appreciating the comparative parallel in the nightmare line EHEHEHE
When I was planning her character, the only thing I knew for certain was that she needed to be independent. By extension, that meant making her a complete badass who doesnât rely on others to survive. I think this also stems from her past experiences with survival groups and after being on her own for so long, sheâs developed an instinct to act rather than wait for problems to resolve themselves. Sheâs practical and hardened by her reality, but at the core of it all, sheâs still human, with fragile emotions beneath the surface.
OMG, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU for noticing that none of the boys stepped in to help her! Having them swoop in to save her would have completely undermined her character. She survived almost a year alone in a zombie apocalypseâsheâs not about to need a man to rescue her from one zombie. Also, âIn your bedâ is crazy, by the way!
THANK YOU AGAIN for noticing the fact that both the reader and MC donât immediately know whoâs speaking? That was so difficult to write during the motel sequence, but Iâm so glad it paid off. And Ni-ki being that obvious? LMAO.
I still canât wrap my head around the fact that you actually take notes while reading. You are truly one of a kind, and honestly, every writer deserves a reader like you.
Even though you told me not to answer, I'm going to do it anyway. Yes, you are a freak for enjoying the scenes where she's running for her life. BUT, I am also a freak for writing them. So really, weâre just in this together.
I knew Jay was the perfect fit for the cautious character because, in my mind, heâs someone who is wise and learns from experience. I actually debated between him and Sunghoon for this role but ultimately went with Jay. Also, JAYWON.
You are so valid for saying you wouldâve up and left too. Honestly, same. The only reason MC didnât was because she didnât want to be like the people from her last group. As pragmatic as she is, she hates being proven wrong.
So, weâre both SE Asian, Libras, AND Jungwon-biased? Shayla, tell me this isnât fate.
AGREED ABOUT THAT TRAIN TO BUSAN CHARACTER. Had me pulling out my hair watching. The selfish, stubborn characters always survive too long for my liking. And it makes sense because If you put yourself first, you stand a better chance of making it out alive.
To clear up any confusion about how the zombies in this AU function, they rely on whatever senses are still available to them. I assume you were referring to the line âempty eye sockets seem to bore into you.â In that case, the zombie had no eyes and was relying on sound cues. Later on, I used âmilky eyesâ to describe those that do still have their vision. Basically, they react to whatever they canâsound, the smell of blood, movementâif something grabs their attention, they go for it!
Thatâs it. Thatâs the message. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH.
XOXO, Nat <3
SAFE & SOUND â part 1
Navigating one year post-apocalypse, when the dead began to walk and the living proved to be no better, you decide that trust is a luxury you can no longer afford. But after a run-in with a group of seven peculiar survivors, you learn that there are bigger problems than just the undead roaming the streets. You also start to wonder if thereâs more to survival than simply staying alive.
word count: 14k
MASTERLIST
Rotten.
The can of tuna youâve risked your life to retrieve from the mart in the next neighbourhood is rotten. Just like everything else roaming the streets.
The smell hits you first, sharp and metallic, curling through the air like a mocking laugh. Itâs only when you peer into the greyish sludge that you know for sure. Gagging, you launch the can across the dimly lit room. The clang as it hits the wall feels louder than it should, echoing against the hollow silence. A greasy smear marks its path before it rolls to a stop.
Your stomach tightens, but not from hungerânot entirely. Itâs exhaustion, or frustration, or both, a familiar cocktail of feelings that churns in your gut. You press a hand to your stomach, willing it to stay quiet. The small victories matter now, even if theyâre as simple as keeping quiet.
âFigures,â you mutter, wiping your hands on the knees of your tattered jeans. The word feels heavy in the thick silence of the abandoned community building youâve been calling homeâa makeshift fortress thatâs only just kept you alive for the past year.
The windows are boarded up with planks you scavenged from nearby wreckage, letting in only the faintest cracks of moonlight, casting fractured shadows on the walls. The small corner where you sleep is enclosed by a barricade of furniture you've managed to tie together with ropes and scraps of cloth youâve gathered. Itâs not perfect, but itâs held so far.
Outside, the telltale groans of the undead float through the night air, mingling with the distant sound of screams and breaking glass. Youâve learned to tune it out, to pretend that the world hasnât fallen apart.
But every so often, when the noises grow too close or too many, the illusion shatters, leaving behind a pit of fear in your stomach that no amount of fortification can fill.
You lean back, letting your head hit the wall. The cracks in the paint catch against the rough weave of your jacket, the sound gritty and small. Your mind drifts back to that fateful day, the day everything went to shit.
Youâd only been living in Seoul for a month, you were barely unpacked, just starting to memorise the labyrinth of subway lines, the shortcuts to your university. University acceptance had felt like the first step towards something bigger, something brighter. You can still see your parentsâ faces, lit with pride, when you shared the news. Getting into a university in Seoulâitâs like gaining instant bragging rights for life.
Except now, none of it matters. Those things out there couldnât care less about your alma mater, whether youâre earning a six-figure salary or pulled from the gutter. To them, youâre just another meal on legsâflesh, blood, and bone all blending into the same, mindless craving.
Youâd always thought youâd know what to do in a zombie apocalypse. Every movie and survival guide said the same thing:
Avoid the cities. Get out fast.
So when the news started to break, you didnât hesitate. You grabbed a bagâessentials onlyâand set out, determined to make it back to your parents in the province. You didnât even pause to think about how impossible it might be.
But the city had other plans. You hadnât even made it ten blocks before the streets were overrun. A tide of chaos, of screams and shoving bodiesâalive and notâforced you off course.
The community building was a last-ditch refuge, its doors flung open to anyone desperate enough to run for them. Youâd barely made it inside before the barricades went up. It wasnât the plan, but then again, nothing about survival ever is.
At first, it felt like a haven. There were enough supplies to keep everyone fedâif barely. Dozens of survivors shared the space, most of them too old or too scared to leave. The rations were thin, one meal a day if you were lucky, but it was enough.
You and a handful of the younger survivors took turns venturing out, gathering what you could from nearby shops and houses. It wasnât much, but it worked.
For a time.
When the convenience store was stripped bare, you moved to the supermarket. When that was picked clean, you ventured further. Each trip took you deeper into danger, the risk growing with every step. Supplies dwindled. The fear grew sharper, harder to ignore.
People started to dieâsome to the undead, others to hunger, and still others to the kind of cruelty that only surfaces when survival is on the line.
You learned quickly that it wasnât just the zombies you had to fear. Youâve seen it firsthand: the way desperation changes people.
At first, it was small thingsâarguments over ration sizes, whispers of distrust. But then the small petty arguments turned into fights, and fights turned into bloodshed.
One by one, people either left to take their chances elsewhere or fell victim to the chaos within. A high school student, he had barely turned eighteen, stabbed a man over a tin of peaches. A woman abandoned her own mother to save herself when the barricade was breached.
Survival strips away more than fleshâit strips away the pretence of civility, leaving only the raw, animalistic instinct to endure at any cost. Itâs not just the undead that keep you awake at nightâitâs the memory of what people are capable of becoming.
So when the barricade failed during a particularly viscous storm and youâd barely escaped with your life, you dragged what little you could salvage to this corner of the building, patching up the holes as best as possible. Alone, because it was safer that way.
Now, alone in the faint light of your makeshift fortress, the weight of it all presses down on you. The loneliness, the hunger, the constant, gnawing terrorâitâs all too much. But you shove it aside, because thereâs no room for weakness here.
Weakness gets you killed.
Your stomach growls again, insistent, and you grit your teeth. Youâll have to go out again soon. The thought sends a chill through you, but thereâs no other choice. Survival doesnât wait for fear to subside.
Taking a deep breath, you stand and reach for your weaponâa rusted crowbar thatâs seen more use than youâd like to admit. Tomorrow, youâll go out again, search for food, risk whatâs left of your life to keep it from ending.
For now, you sit in the dark and listen. To the groans. To the screams. To the sound of your own ragged breathing. And try not to dream.
A loud thunk from below jolts you awake, not that you were fully unconscious in the first place. Your entire body goes rigid as you strain to listen. Another thunk. Then a scrape, like something heavy being dragged across the ground floor. Your mind racesâit could be the wind, or maybe another scavenger. Or it could be them.
Your grip on the crowbar tightens as you slowly push yourself off the floor. You tiptoe toward the staircase leading down to the lobby. The wooden stairs creak under your weight as you inch down them, and you wince at each sound. They might as well be gunshots in the stillness.
Sweat beads on your forehead as you reach the landing and peer into the dark hallway beyond. Shadows shift and flicker in the faint moonlight filtering through cracks in the boarded-up windows.
The dragging sound comes again, closer this time, and your grip tightens until the ridged metal of the crowbar bites into your skin. Then, a growl echoes from the darkness. Low. Guttural. Not human.
You back up instinctively, your heart pounding in your chest like a drum. Your foot catches on a loose piece of debris, and you stumble, barely catching yourself on the railing. The noise you make is small but loud enough to stir the growling into a frenzy. The shuffling grows faster, more erratic.
Theyâre coming.
âShit,â you hiss under your breath, scrambling back up the stairs. Youâve rehearsed this scenario a hundred times in your head. Go to the second floor. Block the stairwell. Wait it out. Itâs worked before, but something tells you this time is different. Thereâs too much noise, too many of them. And youâre already running low on supplies.
By the time you reach the top of the stairs, the first figure emerges into the faint light below. Its flesh hangs from its bones in sickly, yellowed strips. Empty eye sockets seem to bore into you as it lets out a chilling moan. Behind it, more shadows lurch into view, a grotesque parade of decay and hunger.
Youâre out of time.
Slamming the door to the stairwell shut, you shove a heavy desk against it and wedge the crowbar beneath the handle for good measure. The door shudders almost immediately under the weight of their assault, the moans and growls growing louder with each passing second. You back away, your mind racing for an escape route.
Your eyes dart to the boarded-up windows. Itâs a long drop, but thereâs a fire escape just a few feet out of reach. If you can break through the boards and make the jump, you might stand a chance. Itâs a gamble, but so is staying here
And if youâre being honest, youâd rather plunge to your death than be torn apart limb by limb.
Grabbing a chair, you smash it against the nearest window. The wood splinters and cracks, but it holds firm. Behind you, the door creaks ominously as the barricade begins to give way. Desperation fuels your next swing, and the boards finally snap, leaving a jagged hole just big enough to climb through.
You donât thinkâyou just act, hauling yourself up and out onto the narrow ledge outside. The cold night air hits your face, a stark contrast to the suffocating atmosphere inside. Below, the fire escape beckons. You take a deep breath, brace yourself, and leap.
For a moment, youâre weightless. Then your hands slam into the metal railing, and you scramble to pull yourself up. Your palms sting, and your muscles scream in protest, but you donât let go. Not when survival is so close.
Behind you, the door finally gives way. The sound of splintering wood and the enraged cries of the undead spur you into action. You donât look back as you climb down the fire escape, each step taking you further from the nightmare above, and closer to the nightmare below.
When your feet finally hit the ground, you allow yourself a moment to breathe. But itâs short-lived. The streets are no safer than the building you just escaped. Shadows move in the distance, and the faint echo of shuffling feet reminds you that youâre never truly alone.
With nothing but the clothes on your back, you start to run. You donât know where youâre goingâonly that you canât stop. Your legs burn, your lungs ache, but you keep moving, fuelled by a singular, desperate thought: keep going. Always keep going. Because if you stop, even for a moment, itâll all be over.
The groans follow you, relentless and hungry. You donât dare look back. Instead, you focus on the narrow alleyways and shadowed streets ahead, praying you donât make a wrong turn.
You finally spot a buildingâan auto store with its doors hanging slightly ajar. Without thinking, you rush inside, slamming the door shut behind you. Your hands fumble for somethingâanythingâto block it, and you grab a rusted toolbox, wedging it against the frame. It feels pathetic, barely a barrier, but you convince yourself itâs better than nothing.
Your breaths come fast and shallow as you scan the room. Rows of dusty shelves cluttered with tools and car parts stretch before you, their contents untouched for what feels like decades. The air is stale and heavy, carrying the faint tang of motor oil. For a fleeting moment, the oppressive noise of the streets is muffled, and you almost feel safe.
But the reprieve is short-lived.
Voices. Human voices. Low, urgent, and drawing closer.
Your stomach twists as panic sets in, sharp and paralysing. You reach for a loose screwdriver on the floor and dart behind a shelf, crouching low. Dust clings to your clothes as you press yourself against the cold metal, willing yourself to disappear.
The door creaks open, and the toolbox scrapes uselessly across the floor. You curse silently under your breath. What a waste of effort.
Boots scuff against the ground as they enter. Voicesâmale voicesâfilter through the stale air, rough and laced with tension. âThat was close, fuck.â one mutters, his voice shaking. You can hear him catching his breath, the fear in his tone unmistakable.
Looks like you werenât the only one running from the horde that came out of nowhere.
âWhat the hell is The Future doing in the city?â another snaps, frustration cutting through the hushed atmosphere.
The Future...?
"They're looking for us, what else?" a third man grunts, his voice deep and gravelly.
"Talk about obsessive,â a fourth says, anger simmering beneath. âWe escaped more than six months ago. How are they still trying to track us down?"
âThat community⌠theyâre worse than the dead. Iâd rather take my chances out here than go back there.â Five.
âYou donât get it. Theyâll hunt us down. They always do,â Six.
"I mean⌠We stole almost six monthsâ worth of supplies. And a van. I'd hunt us too." This one is a little cheeky. Seven.
"Shut the fuck up,â the gravelly voice growls. âYou think this is funny?â
Your mind races. A community hunting them? Youâve heard of survivors forming groups. Hell, you were part of one. But this⌠this sounds different. Darker.
You press yourself closer to the shelf, your gip on the screwdriver so tight your fingers cramp. Seven men, at leastâthatâs how many voices you can count. Could you take them? Absolutely not.
For now, the only option is to stay hidden. You force yourself to breathe slowly, silently, and focus on their words, desperate for answers. Whatever these men are running from, you need to know if itâs worse than whatâs already out thereâor if itâs heading straight for you.
Just then, a faint groan slices through the oppressive silence, this one agonisingly close. Your head snaps around, heart thundering against your ribs like a trapped bird.
Right there, not more than a foot away and obscured beneath a grimy sheet of cardboard, something stirs. The groan rises in pitch, raw and guttural, as the cardboard shifts, revealing a face ravaged by decay. Skin, or whatâs left of it, clings to its skull in uneven patches, and its milky, dead eyes lock onto yours with an almost sentient hunger.
You freeze, the breath hitching in your chest as time seems to slow. The stench of rot floods your senses, almost choking you, and a cold sweat slicks your skin.
Before you can react, the creature lurches, its skeletal hand shooting out with horrifying speed. Filthy, jagged nails scrape against your leg, finding purchase in the fabric of your jeans and digging into the flesh beneath.
A piercing shriek tears from your throatâraw, primal, and louder than you intend. The sound ricochets off the walls, each echo feeding the panic clawing at your mind.
Desperation surges like a tidal wave, drowning out coherent thought. You kick wildly, your boot connecting with the thingâs chest, but its grip is unyielding. The screwdriver slips in your sweat-slicked palm as you fumble to raise it, your muscles trembling with adrenaline-fuelled terror. Its grip tightens, nails biting deeper, and for a moment, the sickening thought flashes through your mind: Youâre not getting out of this.
But then instinct takes over. With a desperate cry, you swing the screwdriver down, the metal driving into its skull in a sickening crunch. the sound reverberating through the stillness like a death knell.
The zombie spasms, its hand loosening slightly, but not enough.
Your vision narrows, fury and survival instinct blending into a single, overpowering force. You strike again, and again, each impact a visceral symphony of shattering bone and yielding flesh. The stench grows worse, cloying and metallic, as blood splatters your hands and face.
Finally, the creature goes still, collapsing into a lifeless heap at your feet. Your chest heaves as you stagger back, the screwdriver slipping from your trembling fingers to clatter against the floor. The silence that follows is deafening, broken only by the rasp of your own ragged breaths.
"Fuck," you whisper, the word barely audible over the pounding of your heart. Your gaze drifts down to the bloodied mess staining the floor, bile rising in your throat. You swallow hard, forcing it down. Thereâs no time for weaknessânot now, not ever.
When you finally look up, your stomach twists into knots. Seven figures stand over you, their faces obscured by shadow but their postures unmistakably tense.
One of them steps closer, the metallic glint of a pistol catching the dim light. Your breath hitches as the cold barrel presses against your temple, its unforgiving weight a reminder of how precarious your situation has just become.
"Who the hell are you?" One of them growls, his voice low and dangerous. The question hangs in the air, heavy with unspoken threats, as you stare back at him, your mind scrambling for a response that might just keep you alive.
You swallow hard, your mouth dry as sandpaper. âJust⌠just a survivor,â you stammer, your voice barely a whisper. The cold barrel against your temple makes your skin crawl, but you force yourself to meet his gaze. Your heart pounds so loudly, youâre sure they can all hear it. âI didnât know youâd be here. Iâll leave. Please.â
"Drop the act," another voice cuts in, this one sharp and impatient. "The speaker steps closer, his silhouette lean and wiry, eyes narrowed. âYou think weâre stupid? Youâve been listening in.â
âWhat should we do with her?â someone else pipes up from the shadows. His tone is casual, but the words make your stomach drop. âShe could be one of them.â
âIâm not!â you blurt, your words tumbling out in a rush. âI swear, I donât even know who youâre talking about! I just ran in here to hide!â
The gunman doesnât lower his weapon, his piercing gaze locked onto yours. The air is thick, suffocating, as he scans your face, searching for any hint of deceit. The silence stretches unbearably until someone else breaks it.
âThereâs seven of us, and sheâs a girl.â one points out, this one almost amused. His tone is light, but his eyes glint with curiosity. âNot exactly the kind The Future kept around. Didnât they kill most of their women? Called them weak or some shit.â
"Doesnât mean sheâs not a threat," the gunman mutters, but the tension in his stance eases slightly. The barrel wavers, though it remains trained on you. "Start talking. What are you doing here?"
You take a shuddering breath, trying to steady your racing thoughts. "I was running from a horde," you say, jerking your head vaguely toward the door. Your voice is steadier now, but your trembling hands betray your fear.
âWhereâs the rest of your group?â he asks, his tone laced with suspicion. âHow many of you are there?â
âThereâs no group,â you reply quickly, shaking your head. âItâs just me. Iâve been on my own for months.â
"On your own?" A man near the back crosses his arms, his posture sceptical. "Thatâs a load of bullshit. Nobody lasts this long alone." His blonde hair gleams faintly in the dim light, a beacon that would make him laughably easy to track in broad daylight. You wonder how someone so conspicuous has managed to survive this long, especially when theyâre clearly being hunted.
"Iâm telling the truth," you insist, your voice firm despite the quiver in your hands. âIâve got nothing to hide. My place got overrun. I just needed somewhere to hide.â
âWhat place?â the blonde man carefully makes his way in front, crouching slightly, levelling his gaze with yours. The question hangs heavy, and you know your answer could mean the difference between life and death.
âA community building,â you answer, your voice quieter now. âItâs just down the street. I can show you if you donât believe me.â
âShow us?â Another man scoffs. âYou said it was overrun? Why the hell would we follow you to a place thatâs crawling with them? Are you stupid?â
You bite back a retort, your frustration simmering beneath the surface. âIâm not lying,â you say, your voice sharper than before. âLook, I didnât survive this long just to let a bunch of men decide whether to shoot me in my fucking head for being in the wrong place at the wrong bloody time.â
The man with the blonde hair tilts his head, studying you like a puzzle he canât quite solve. Then he speaks again, his tone quiet but firm. âCan we trust you?â
You donât answer right away. Instead, you hold his gaze, unflinching, and nod once. Slowly, deliberately. For a moment, no one speaks. You can feel the weight of their stares, assessing, calculating.
Finally, a simple, subtle raise of the blondeâs hand is all it takes for the gunman to lower his pistol. The others, though still wary, seem to follow his lead. Relief washes over you, but you keep your face neutral, refusing to show weakness.
âI hope you know what youâre doing, Jungwon.â
His name is Jungwon. It strikes you as a strangely gentle nameâgardenâyet nothing about him feels soft.
"If youâre lying," Jungwon warns, his tone like steel, "you wonât get a second chance." It doesnât take long for you to realiseâheâs the leader.
âI understand,â you reply, your throat tight. The words feel hollow, but theyâre all you can offer.
"Whatâs your name?" one of them asks, his voice brighter but no less wary.
"Y/N," you reply. "And you?"
He hesitates before giving you a small, guarded smile. âSunoo. And donât get any funny ideas. Weâre a small group, but we bite.â
The faint attempt at levity doesnât go unnoticed, but it does little to ease the knot in your stomach. You nod again, glancing at the others. Their eyes still linger on you, like predators sizing up prey.
âYou said thereâs a horde,â Jungwon says, cutting through the moment. His tone is all business now. âWhereâs it coming from?â
âSouth,â you say, your voice steady but curious. âWait, werenât you lot running from it too?â Your eyebrow arches as you ask, testing the waters.
âDonât ask too many questions, or I might just kill you,â the same man who held the pistol to your head snaps, his tone as sharp as the glare he fixes on you. Tough one, you think grimly. Definitely not the friendly type.
âHow big is itâthe horde?â he demands, his words clipped and impatient. His posture is rigid, his eyes narrowing as though heâs daring you to lie.
âBig enough,â you answer grimly, your voice heavy with the weight of whatâs chasing you. The memory of the mass of undead flashes in your mindâtheir grotesque forms, the relentless moans. You push it aside, forcing yourself to focus. âTheyâre close. If we stay here much longer, theyâll find us.â
Jungwon doesnât hesitate. âThen we move,â he declares, his voice calm but firm, leaving no room for debate. Itâs a tone youâve heard before in those whoâve seen too much, those who lead because no one else will. âGrab your things. We leave in five.â
You swallow hard, scanning their faces. Theyâre already moving, collecting bags and makeshift weapons, their movements practised and efficient. You take a breath, forcing your hands to stop shaking.
âThereâs a motel north-east from here, just off the hordeâs course.â you say, stepping forward slightly, trying to sound confident. âI cleared it out once when I couldnât get back to the community building. I can take you there, wait for the horde to pass, and then Iâll be on my way.â
The moment the words leave your mouth, you feel the tension in the room shift. The air grows heavier, colder.
Jungwonâs sharp gaze locks onto yours, his expression unreadable, but itâs not him who speaks. The man with the sharp tongueâthe one who held a pistol to your head earlierâlets out a humourless laugh. âWho said anything about letting you go?â he says, his voice dripping with malice, as though your suggestion was the most absurd thing heâd ever heard.
The silence that follows his words feels suffocating, heavier than the looming threat of the undead outside. You try to keep your expression neutral, but the knot in your stomach tightens with each passing second. Your eyes flick to Jungwon, hoping for some sort of reprieve, but his face remains impassive, impossible to read.
âIâm not looking for trouble,â you say carefully, your voice steady despite the tremor in your hands. âIâve survived this long on my own. I donât need your help, and I donât want to be in your way.â
The gunman scoffs, the corner of his mouth curling in disdain. âBold words for someone who had a gun to their head five minutes ago.â
âEnough,â Jungwon cuts in, his voice slicing through the tension like a knife. The others fall silent, though their postures remain taut, their eyes still fixed on you. He steps forward, his movements slow and deliberate, as if gauging your reaction with every step.
âWe donât know you,â he says, his voice measured but carrying an edge of steel. âYou could be useful, or you could be a liability. Either way, weâre not taking risks.â
Your throat tightens, but you force yourself to stand your ground. âIâve already told youâIâm not with anyone. No group, no weapons, no agenda. Just me. If you think Iâm lying, youâre wasting your time.â
He watches you for a moment longer, his dark eyes scanning your face for cracks in your resolve. Finally, he speaks. âYouâll come with us,â he says, his tone leaving no room for argument. âWeâll see what youâre worth.â
Your stomach twists, the flicker of hope youâd allowed yourself extinguished in an instant. Your jaw clenches, but you nod. Thereâs no point in arguingânot when they hold all the cards.
âWhat if sheâs dead weight?â the pistol-wielding man mutters, his arms crossed as he glares at you.
âThen sheâll stay behind,â Jungwon replies coldly, his eyes still locked on yours. The words send a shiver down your spine, but you refuse to flinch.
The group moves quickly, their actions smooth and practised as they gather their supplies. You take a moment to glance at their makeshift arsenalârusted blades, a machete, a pistol with a half-empty box of ammo. Itâs not much, but itâs enough to survive. Barely.
Jungwonâs voice cuts through the room again. âTimeâs up. Letâs go.â
The group falls into formation, their movements synchronised, like theyâve done this a hundred times before. You find yourself in the middle, flanked on all sides, nothing to defend yourself with. Even the mere rusty screwdriver taken away from you.
Their message is clear: youâre not one of them. They donât trust you.
As you step out into the night, the cool air hits your face, a sharp contrast to the oppressive heat of the room. The streets are eerily quiet, the faint groans of the undead carried on the wind. Your heart pounds in your chest as you scan the shadows, every instinct screaming at you to run. But thereâs nowhere to goânot empty-handed, and certainly not without them gunning you down before you even make five feet.
Jungwon takes the lead, his blonde hair catching the faint glow of the moon as he moves with purpose. You follow closely, your senses on high alert. Every shuffle of movement, every distant sound sets your nerves on edge.
Sunoo sidles up next to you, his steps light and almost casual, though the wariness in his eyes lingers. âDonât let Jay get to you,â he says in a low voice, his lips curving into a faint smile. âThat grump always tries to come off scarier than he is. Heâs actually a bit of a softie.â
Jay. The name sticks in your mind, sharp and blunt at the same time, just like the man it belongs to. You glance over at himâhis posture rigid, eyes scanning the shadows like a hawk. Thereâs nothing soft about him now, not the way he grips the pistol or the sharp edge to his jaw as he walks a few paces ahead.
âA softie?â you murmur back, your voice sceptical. âHe doesnât look the type.â
Sunoo chuckles quietly, his expression lightening. âOh, heâs a pain in the ass, no doubt about that. But trust me, when it comes down to it, Jay always looks after the group. Even if heâs a bit dramatic about it.â
You donât know whether to take that as reassurance or a warning.
âDoes he look after the strays too?â you ask, your tone laced with cautious humour.
Sunoo raises an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a playful smile. âThat depends,â he says, his tone light yet probing. âAre you planning to stay a stray?â
You donât reply, and the silence stretches just long enough for it to become uncomfortable. Sunoo seems to take the hint, letting the question hang unanswered. His smile fades slightly, but he doesnât press further.
Instead, he shifts gears, his voice dropping low enough to avoid drawing the attention of the others. âSo, this motel of yours,â he begins, tilting his head. âWhatâs the catch?â
âNo catch,â you reply, keeping your voice steady, though the scepticism in his tone pricks at you. âItâs just a place I found. Empty, at least the last time I checked.â
âAnd if itâs not?â he presses, his brow furrowing as his sharp eyes flick to your face. Thereâs no malice there, just careful calculation, as if heâs trying to figure out if youâre bluffing.
âThen weâll deal with it,â you say firmly. âLike Iâve dealt with everything else.â
He studies you for a moment longer before nodding, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at his lips. âFair enough.â
You nod back, though your attention is already shifting, your gaze flicking from Sunoo to Jungwon, before landing on Jay. He hasnât so much as glanced in your direction since leaving the shop, but you can feel the weight of his presence, like a storm cloud hanging overhead. Softie or not, thereâs no denying heâs dangerous.
This whole group is dangerous. Not just in the way they pointed a gun at your head. Youâd have done the same if the roles were reversed.
No, itâs something deeper than that. Itâs in the way they move together, a silent understanding passing between them. Itâs in the way they trust each other without needing to speak. That trust feels foreign to you.
Distrust is second nature now, woven into every fibre of your being. It has kept you alive, but here, it feels like a barrier, separating you from the unspoken bond that holds them together. They donât trust you, and you canât blame them. Youâre the outsider, the unknown element, and trust is a commodity none of you can afford to give freelyânot for you, and certainly not for them.
The group moves swiftly through the shadowed streets, their footsteps light but purposeful. You walk in the middle of their formation, acutely aware of how exposed you all are. Every darkened alley, every overturned car feels like a trap waiting to spring.
Suddenly, Jungwon raises a hand, his entire body going still. The shift is immediateâthe group halts in unison, their movements instinctive, like a well-oiled machine. Your breath catches, your heart pounding like a drum as you strain your ears. At first, thereâs nothing but the faint rustling of the wind. Then you hear itâshuffling, faint but unmistakable, just ahead.
âEyes up,â Jay mutters, his voice barely above a whisper as he tightens his grip on the pistol.
The group edges closer to the corner of a crumbling building, each step measured and deliberate. Jungwon moves first, peering around the edge with slow precision. His posture stiffens, and when he pulls back, his expression is grim.
âA group of them, about thirty, maybe more.â You feel a chill run down your spine.
âSouth?â Jay hisses, his sharp glare cutting through the dim light as he looks over his shoulder at you. âYou said they were coming from the south.â
âThey are,â you snap back defensively, lowering your voice but unable to hide the edge in your tone. âHow was I supposed to know theyâre crawling here too?â
Jay lets out a low, humourless laugh, his head shaking lightly. âThis is exactly why we didnât believe you when you said you survived the city all alone.â
Before you can respond, a voice cuts through the rising tension. âNowâs not the time for this,â someone saysâthe voice calm but clipped, firm enough to settle the brewing argument. You glance towards the speaker, realising you still havenât put a name to his face. âWhy are there so many of them tonight?â
You shake your head, the unease in your chest growing heavier. âTonight is⌠different,â you admit, your voice wavering slightly. âThere seem to be more of them roaming the streets. Itâs like somethingâs drawn them here.â
âYeah, like a scream of some sort.â The words hang in the air, heavy with implication. Slowly, one by one, the group turns their heads toward you.
Your stomach drops, and you open your mouth to protest, but the conversation is cut short by a sudden, guttural growl. One of the zombies has noticed you. Its milky, lifeless eyes locking onto the group as it lets out a low, haunting moan.
âShit,â Jungwon mutters under his breath, his grip tightening on the hilt of his blade.
The moan spreads like a signal, the rest of the horde turning their decayed heads in unison. Their shuffling quickens, their jerky movements laced with unnatural determination.
âHere they come,â Jay snaps, his voice sharp as he raises his pistol.
âSunghoon, theyâre coming from the back too!â Sunooâs voice rises in alarm, his gaze darting to the rear of the group. You whip your head around, your blood running cold as more figures stumble into view behind you.
âWe canât fight them all,â Sunghoon says, panic bleeding into his usually calm tone.
For a moment, everything feels suspendedâthe groans of the undead growing louder, the sharp intakes of breath from the group, the suffocating realisation that escape is narrowing with every passing second. Then, with a voice like tempered steel, Jungwon breaks the paralysis.
âMove!â he commands, his voice slicing through the chaos.
The group breaks into a run, weaving through the narrow streets and abandoned cars. The sound of shuffling feet and guttural growls follows close behind, a relentless reminder of whatâs chasing you.
Your lungs burn, and your legs ache, but you keep moving, driven by pure adrenaline. As you round a corner, the motel comes into viewâa squat, two-storey building with boarded-up windows. Relief surges through you, but itâs fleeting. The dead are still on your heels.
âThere!â you shout, pointing toward the motel. âWe can barricade ourselves inside!â
Jungwon nods, taking the lead as the group sprints toward the building. Jay fires a few shots over his shoulder, each one finding its mark, but it only slows the horde momentarily.
âGo, go, go!â Sunoo yells, holding the door open as the group piles inside.
The moment youâre inside, you move instinctively, grabbing a nearby desk and shoving it against the door with Sunghoonâs help. The others pile on whatever they can findâchairs, shelves, anything to hold the door shut. The pounding starts almost immediately, a grim reminder of how little time you have.
âWe canât stay here,â says someone whose name you havenât learned, his voice trembling as he steps back, his wide eyes darting between the barricade and the rest of the group. âTheyâll break through eventually.â
Jungwon turns to you, his dark, calculating eyes pinning you in place. âYou said you cleared this place before,â he says, his voice steady despite the chaos. âIs there another way out?â
âThereâs a back exit,â you say, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. âBut itâs narrow. If they cut us offââ
âWe donât have a choice,â Jungwon interrupts. âWeâll make it work.â
The pounding intensifies, the barricade creaking under the strain. The group exchanges tense glances, their exhaustion mirrored in each otherâs faces. Your palms are slick with sweat as you clench your fists, the urge to act warring with the mounting dread in your gut.
âLetâs go,â Jungwon says sharply, gesturing for the group to fall into formation. He starts toward the back, his movements quick and precise, but you grab the edge of his shirt, stopping him in his tracks.
âGive me a weapon to defend myself with,â you say, your voice low but firm.
âNo,â he replies instantly, not even breaking his stride.
Your grip tightens, forcing him to pause. âJungwon,â you say, your tone urgent but measured, âI can see you care a lot about your group. I also know that when push comes to shove, I wonât be your priority. If you canât guarantee my safety, then I need something to defend myself with.â
He hesitates, his brow furrowing deeply. The pounding against the barricade grows louder, each crash like a warning bell, and you can feel the impatience bubbling beneath your skin.
âPlease,â you press, your voice softening but losing none of its intensity.
For a moment, he stares at you, the tension in his jaw betraying his internal debate. Finally, with a resigned sigh, he reaches into his belt and pulls out a small, serrated knife. âFine,â he says, his tone clipped, handing it to you. âBut you stay close to me. No exceptions.â
Relief floods through you as you take the weapon, the cool metal solid and reassuring in your hand. âUnderstood,â you say, nodding quickly.
âMove!â Jungwon orders, his voice cutting through the noise. The group springs into action, heading toward the narrow corridor that leads to the back exit. Your heart pounds as you grip the knife tightly, your eyes darting to the barricade one last time.
The group moves quickly, the narrow corridor pressing in on all sides. Every creak of the floorboards beneath your feet feels deafening, every shadow a potential ambush. Jungwon leads the way, his blade gleaming faintly in the dim light as he keeps his focus locked on the path ahead.
âStay close,â he mutters, glancing back at you for a fraction of a second before returning his attention forward.
The pounding on the barricade grows faint behind you, but a new sound takes its placeâthe unmistakable shuffle and groans of the undead echoing off the walls. The noise comes from ahead and behind, a cruel symphony that makes your stomach churn.
Youâre surrounded.
âFuck fuck fuck,â you donât even know who is speaking, all you can tell isâheâs panicking.
The group halts, frozen as the reality of your situation sinks in. Jay takes a sharp breath, glancing over his shoulder. âTheyâve cut us off,â he says grimly. âWeâre trapped.â
âKeep moving,â Jungwon orders, though his voice is taut with tension. âWe fight through. Thereâs no other choice.â
As if on cue, a wave of zombies emerges from the shadows ahead. Their decayed faces twist into grotesque mockeries of hunger, their milky eyes locking onto the group. The moans grow louder, their jerky movements speeding up as they close the distance.
Raising his pistol, Jay fires a clean shot, dropping the lead zombie, but the rest surge forward undeterred.
You tighten your grip on the knife Jungwon gave you, your palms sweaty. The first zombie lunges, and Jungwon meets it head-on, his blade diving into its skull with practiced precision. Another takes its place immediately, forcing him back.
âBehind you!â you yell, spotting movement in the shadows. A zombie stumbles toward Jungwon, its bony hands reaching for him.
Without thinking, you surge forward, driving your knife into its temple before it can lay a hand on him. The impact sends a jolt through your arm, but the creature collapses instantly, its lifeless body hitting the ground at Jungwonâs feet.
He spins around, his eyes widening for a split second before narrowing in acknowledgment. âThanks,â he mutters, before plunging his blade into another.
You barely have time to catch your breath before you spot itâa narrow opening in the wall ahead, barely visible in the chaos. Itâs just large enough to squeeze through, and beyond it, you can see an open street.
Your heart pounds as the thought crystallises in your mind: freedom. You could run. You could escape. You could leave all of this behind and save yourself.
The idea is tempting. The promise of survival so close you can almost taste it. But as quickly as it takes root, something stronger rises to smother it. Something within you that wonât allow you to abandon them. These peopleâdangerous and distrustful as they areâare fighting to survive, just like you.
Your gaze flickers back to the group. Jungwon, his blade slicing through the air with deadly precision, glances back to check on Jay before taking on another zombie. Jayâs pistol rings out, his shots deliberate and controlled, his sharp eyes scanning for threats to the others. Sunghoon swings a crowbar with brute force, stepping in to shield Sunoo when he falters.
Theyâre⌠looking out for each otherâŚ?
You hesitate, the knife in your hand growing heavier with every passing second. Itâs not just survival fueling themâitâs something more. Something you havenât seen in a long time.
After everythingâthe chaos, the selfishness, the betrayalâyou didnât think there was any humanity left in people. Not after what went down at the community building.
Youâve seen what desperation does to people, how it strips them bare, leaving nothing but fear and greed in its wake. You can still see the faces of the ones who abandoned their own blood. The ones who took more than their share, who fought over scraps while others starved, who left others behind to die just to save themselves.
And yet, here you are, watching this ragtag group fight not just for themselves, but for each other.
Thereâs something different about the way they move. Itâs primal, yes, but not animalistic. They swing their weapons with purpose, shouting warnings to each other, putting themselves in danger to keep one another aliveânot because they have to, but because they choose to.
Theyâre holding on to somethingâcivility, camaraderie, maybe hope. Or maybe itâs the uncanny refusal to let go of what makes them human, even when the world around them is anything but. It makes your chest ache, this flicker of humanity you thought was long dead.
You arenât sure whyânot entirely. Maybe itâs the look of determination on their faces. Maybe itâs that fleeting look of surprise in Jungwonâs eyes when you saved him that stays with you. The unspoken gratitude, the trust he gave you in return. Maybe itâs the fire in your chest that refuses to let you be like the others, the ones who ran when things got hard. To hold on to what little humanity you have left. Or maybe itâs something simpler: you just donât want to survive alone anymore.
Your gaze shifts back to the horde. More are flooding into the corridor from both sides, their moans growing louder. The group is outnumbered, overwhelmed. If you leave now, they wonât make it.
Your grip on the knife tightens as the choice solidifies in your mind. The opening in the wall calls to you, but you canât move toward it. Not when theyâre still fighting. Not when leaving would mean becoming one of them.
You take a step forward instead, slashing at the nearest zombie before it can reach Jay. The creature collapses, and Jayâs head snaps toward you, confusion flickering across his face. He doesnât say anything, just nods once, almost imperceptibly, before firing at the next target.
The path forward is a blur of movement and noise. You donât think, donât question. You just fight.
âOver there!â you shout, pointing to the opening. âThereâs a way out!â
Jungwonâs head snaps up at your words, his dark eyes meeting yours. Something flickers across his faceâsomething unreadable, a mix of surprise and something else you canât quite place. He nods sharply, his voice steady even as chaos erupts around him. âStay with me,â he orders. âWeâll make it out together.â
The group presses forward, fighting with renewed determination. You stand your ground, slashing at anything that comes too close, your heart pounding as adrenaline fuels every movement. The horde presses in, relentless, but inch by inch, you force your way toward the opening. For reasons you canât fully explain, you stay close to them.
Jungwon moves ahead, his blade a blur as he carves through the oncoming zombies. Youâre at the rear now, turning back occasionally to strike at anything that gets too close.
A zombie lunges from the side, its grotesque face inches from you before you drive your knife into its eye socket. The creature crumples, but the force of it pulls you off balance, and you stumble, landing hard on one knee.
âGet up!â Jay barks, his voice sharp but charged with urgency. He fires a shot over your shoulder, the bullet whizzing past to take down another zombie that had been closing in on you.
You scramble to your feet, gripping your knife with renewed determination. The narrow opening is only a few feet away now, and the others are already pushing through. Sunoo slips through first, then Sunghoon, the two of them pulling at debris on the other side to clear the way for the rest of you.
âMove, move!â Jungwon shouts, his voice cutting through the cacophony. Heâs still holding the line, his blade flashing in the dim light as he keeps the horde at bay.
You shove Jay forward toward the opening, your pulse racing. âGo!â
With a grim nod, Jay ducks through the opening, leaving you and Jungwon alone with the horde. The zombies are almost upon you now, their grotesque moans filling the narrow space. Jungwon glances at you, his face slick with sweat and streaked with blood.
âYou first,â he says, his tone brooking no argument.
âNot a chance,â you shoot back, slashing at a zombie that gets too close. The blade slices through its rotted neck, sending its head lolling to the side as its body collapses. âThey need you. Iâll be right behind.â
For a moment, he stares at you, something flickering in his dark eyesâfrustration, maybe, or something closer to understanding. Then he nods once, a sharp, decisive motion, and the two of you fall into a rhythm. His blade swings high while your knife strikes low, each movement synchronised as if youâve been fighting together for years.
The opening is right there, but the horde is closing in fast. A zombie lunges at Jungwon from his blind spot, and before you can think, you shove him aside, your knife plunging into the creatureâs chest. The impact sends both you and the zombie crashing to the ground, the stench of rot filling your nose as you wrestle against its weight.
âY/N!â Jungwonâs voice cuts through the haze, sharp and commanding. He pulls the zombie off you in one fluid motion, driving his blade into its skull. âGet up, now!â
He hauls you to your feet, his grip firm but not unkind, and together you bolt for the opening. The others are waiting on the other side, their faces pale and drawn but alive. Sunghoon reaches out, grabbing your arm to pull you through just as the horde slams into the debris youâd hastily piled to block the passage.
The group collapses onto the open street, panting and bloodied but alive. The sound of the horde pounding against the barricade is deafening, but it holdsâat least for now.
âEveryone okay?â Jungwon asks, his voice steadier than it has any right to be. His eyes scan the group, lingering on you for a fraction of a second longer than the others.
âBarely,â Sunoo mutters, leaning heavily on Sunghoon. âThat was too close.â
Jay stands a few feet away, reloading his pistol with practised efficiency. He glances at you, his expression unreadable. âYou couldâve run,â he says flatly, though thereâs something in his tone that isnât quite accusatory.
You meet his gaze, your grip tightening on the bloodied knife in your hand. âSo could you.â
Jay snorts, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. âFair enough.â
Jungwon steps forward, his blade still clutched tightly in his hand. âWe need to keep moving,â he says, his tone brisk but quieter now. âThe noise will draw more of them.â
You nod, your heart still racing as you fall into step with the group. The streets ahead stretch out in shadowed uncertainty, but for the first time, you feel a flicker of something you havenât felt in a long time. In the presence of peopleâpeople who arenât trying to eat or kill you.
When the group reaches the edge of Seoul, where cracked asphalt gives way to gravel and the looming forest stretches into the horizon, everyone stops. The air is thick with tension, the only sounds the distant rustle of leaves and the crunch of boots on dirt. The group exchanges wary glances, but itâs Jay who breaks the silence.
âSurely sheâs not coming with us back to camp,â he says bluntly, his voice cutting through the stillness like a knife. His pistol hangs loose in his hand, though his sharp gaze flicks to you with suspicion. Then, he turns to Jungwon. âWe still donât know anything about her.â
âShe helped us escape,â one of them counters, his voice steady but calm. Heâs tall, with an easy confidence, though his tone carries just enough weight to make Jay glance at him. âThatâs got to count for something, doesnât it?â
Jay doesnât look convinced. âIt doesnât mean sheâs not a liability, Heeseung.â he counters, his voice clipped. âWeâve all seen how that ends.â
âIâm standing right here, you know,â you say, your tone flat but laced with frustration. Youâre too tired to hide the edge in your voice. âIf I wanted to hurt you, I wouldnât have stuck around to help.â
âHelping doesnât mean youâre trustworthy,â Jay shoots back, narrowing his eyes. âPlenty of people are helpfulâuntil they arenât. Jake, why donât you remind Jungwon what happened the last time we trusted someone?â
Jakeâleaning against a nearby tree with his arms crossedâglances at Jay before speaking. His voice is lighter, more measured, but no less pointed. âShe was armed,â he says, nodding toward the knife still clutched in your hand. âIf she wanted to hurt us, sheâd have done it by now.â
âShe practically did,â Jay fires back, his glare intensifying. âWith the way she brought that horde down on us.â
You stiffen, your exhaustion bubbling over into anger. âIf you think my pathetic little scream brought in a horde that big, then you must be denser than I thought." you bite out, your tone dripping with incredulity,
Jay takes a step closer, his expression darkening. âThen why donât you care to explain why there were so many of them tonight? You said so yourselfâitâs different. Somethingâs drawn them here.â
The accusation hangs heavy in the air, each word sharp and biting. Your chest tightens, frustration mingling with the lingering fear from earlier. âHow the hell would I know?â you snap, your voice rising slightly before you force it down. âYou think I have all the answers? Iâve been on my own for months. I donât know whatâs out there any more than you do.â
âExactly,â Jay counters, his voice cold. âYouâve been on your own. No one to vouch for you. No one to trust you. Why should we be the ones to take that risk?â
You open your mouth to argue, but Jungwon raises a hand, silencing the brewing argument. âEnough,â he says, his voice calm but commanding.
âYou said youâve been on your own." Jungwon turns to you, his dark eyes meeting yours, unblinking.
You nod slowly, meeting his gaze with as much calm as you can muster. âThatâs right.â
âThen why didnât you run?â Jungwon asks, his voice softer now, though no less searching. âYou couldâve left when you saw that opening.â
The question hangs in the air, heavy and weighted with meaning. For a moment, you hesitate, your chest tightening. The truth feels raw, vulnerable, but you know itâs the only chance you have. âBecause Iâve seen what happens when people leave others behind,â you say quietly, your voice steady but laced with emotion. âI⌠was left behind. Itâs not who I want to be.â
The group falls into an uneasy silence. Even Jay says nothing, though his expression remains guarded. Sunoo glances between you and Jungwon, his face unreadable. Heeseung exhales slowly, lowering his machete just slightly, his knuckles no longer white from gripping the handle.
âShe doesnât seem like a threat to me,â Sunoo finally says, his tone softer now. âBesides, whatâs one more person? Itâs not like weâre overflowing with allies.â
âShe could slow us down,â Jay argues, though his earlier venom seems to have dulled. âWhat if she canât keep up?â
âI kept up with you just fine back there,â you snap, the words spilling out before you can stop.
âAnd she saved Jungwon. Knife to the skull. Pretty impressive, actually.â says the cheeky one you remember from the auto shop. His tone is casual, but it carries just enough humour to make Jungwon roll his eyes.
âVery funny, Ni-ki,â Jungwon says, exhaling through his nose. His expression remains unreadable as his gaze sweeps over the group.
Heâs quiet for a moment, clearly weighing the risks, before finally speaking. âShe comes with us, we'll figure the rest out at camp." he states firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Jay mutters something under his breath, but he doesnât protest further. Sunoo gives you a quick smile, while Heeseung offers a small nod. Ni-ki shrugs, already turning back toward the forest path.
The journey to the camp is long and fraught with silence. The group moves with practised precision, their formation tight as they navigate the dark, twisting paths that grow denser with every step. You trail close behind, clutching your knife tightly. The blood and sweat drying on your skin makes you feel grimy, but the real discomfort comes from the sharp looks Jay still throws your way whenever he glances back.
Eventually, the dense trees give way to a clearing, revealing the camp nestled among towering pines. A cluster of tents, a single battered van, and a manmade lean-to are scattered around the space, surrounded by a crude barricade of fallen logs and scavenged metal.
âHome sweet home,â Sunoo mutters, his voice tinged with fatigue as he pulls the barricade open just wide enough for the group to slip through. The camp is eerily quiet, save for the distant rustling of the forest.
You glance around, scanning the area for signs of other people, but it becomes clear that the group before you is all there is.
Weird. They donât have much, but leaving an entire camp unattended like that is reckless, bordering on suicidal. Itâs the kind of decision that makes you question their judgment.
Now youâre even more confused about your perception of these people. Are they confident? Brave? Or are they simply stupid?
Itâs hard to tell.
But whatever the reason, it leaves you uneasy. Because in a world like this, confidence and bravery can look an awful lot like arroganceâand arrogance gets people killed.
âWhoâs on first watch tonight?â Jungwon asks, his tone brisk and businesslike as his eyes sweep the camp.
âJake and Ni-ki,â Heeseung replies, dropping his machete with a heavy sigh.
âErm... both of them are already passed out over there.â Sunghoonâs voice is dry, almost amused, as he points toward the lean-to.
Your gaze follows his finger, and sure enough, you spot two figures sprawled out on the uneven ground, tangled in what looks like a half-hearted attempt at bedding. One of them is snoring softly, an arm flung carelessly over his face, while the other lies curled into himself, his back rising and falling with slow, steady breaths. Theyâve managed to find the least uncomfortable positions possible in a place like this, but itâs clear theyâre out cold.
Jungwon pinches the bridge of his nose, a gesture that speaks to his weariness more than any words could. âBrilliant,â he mutters under his breath, the exasperation in his tone cutting through the quiet. He looks like a man who carries the weight of everyone around him, even when he doesnât want to.
The group shifts awkwardly, the tension thick enough to press against your chest. Your fingers twitch around the handle of your knife, an unconscious reflex as you weigh your options. You donât owe these people anything. And yet, when the words leave your mouth, they surprise even you.
âI can take first watch, and one of you can cover me after.â Your voice is steady, but the exhaustion leaks through at the edges. You donât offer because you feel like you owe them. No, the truth is simpler: you know you wonât sleep. Even with your body screaming for rest, every muscle and bone aching from the dayâs events, your mind is wide awake. Very, very awake.
Jay scoffs immediately, the sound sharp and derisive. âLike hell we would leave you on watch alone, what if you run?â
The comment makes your blood simmer, but you clamp down on the flare of frustration. Instead, you meet his glare with a level stare. âJay, Iâm really not in the mood to argue with you,â you say, your tone firm but not aggressive. âIf you donât trust me, then you can take first watch with me.â
The challenge in your voice is unmistakable, and it hangs in the air between you like a taut string. Jayâs lips press into a thin line, his gaze hardening as though heâs deciding whether to call your bluff. You hold his stare, refusing to back down, even as the silence stretches.
Your heartbeat drums in your ears, but you keep your expression steady, determined not to show weakness. You donât know if theyâll ever trust you, but youâve survived too long to let someone like Jay intimidate you now.
Jungwon sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose again, as though trying to contain the growing tension in the camp. Finally, he lowers his hand and looks at Jay, his expression firm but calm. âIâll take the first watch with her,â he says, his tone leaving no room for debate.
Jayâs mouth opens, likely to argue, but Jungwon cuts him off with a sharp look. âGet some rest. Weâll need everyone at least awake tomorrow.â
Jay clicks his tongue but doesnât push further. Instead, he mutters something under his breath and stalks off toward the fire, dropping onto a log with a pointed lack of grace. The others disperse as well, settling into their makeshift bedding or sitting quietly by the fire. Jungwon turns to you.
âCome on,â he says, motioning toward a ladder tied to the side of what looks like a precariously constructed watchtower. âThe viewâs better up there.â
You follow him, gripping the ladder tightly as you climb. The watchtower, built from scavenged wood and tied together with ropes and wire, creaks slightly under your combined weight but holds firm. When you reach the top, you find a narrow platform with a rough wooden railing. From this vantage point, the camp feels small, a fragile sanctuary surrounded by endless darkness.
Jungwon settles near the edge, resting his blade across his lap as he scans the treeline. His posture is relaxed, but his eyes are sharp, constantly moving as though anticipating the worst.
You sit a few feet away, your knife still in hand, though youâre not entirely sure what good it will do against the night. For a while, neither of you speaks, the silence broken only by the distant rustling of leaves and the faint crackle of the fire below.
âDo you always volunteer for shit the rest doesnât want to do?â you ask, breaking the quiet.
Jungwon glances at you, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. âNot always. But someone has to do it. Might as well be me.â
You nod, your gaze drifting to the dark forest beyond the barricade. âYou donât trust me either,â you say, your voice quiet but not accusatory. Itâs a statement, not a question.
He doesnât answer right away, his eyes fixed on the horizon. When he does speak, his tone is measured. âItâs not about trust. Not entirely. Itâs about knowing what people are capable of when things go bad.â
A bitter laugh escapes your lips. âYeah. Iâve seen what people are capable of.â
Jungwon glances at you again, his expression softening just slightly. âWhat⌠happened?â he asks, his voice low, as though he knows itâs a loaded question but is willing to bear the weight of it.
You hesitate, the memories clawing at the edges of your mind, threatening to drag you back into a place youâd give anything to forget. Frankly, you donât want to answer. You donât even want to think about it. But the past has a cruel way of lingering, forcing you to confront it over and over again, like an open wound that refuses to heal.
âThe community building,â you begin slowly, the words bitter on your tongue. âIt was supposed to be safe. A place where people worked together. Where we helped each other survive.â
âAt least, thatâs what we told ourselves. But things changed when the supplies started running low. Suddenly, it wasnât about helping each other anymore. It was about who could take the most, who could get out alive.â You pause, your fingers tightening around the knife in your hand as the images flood your mind. The arguments over food, the mistrust that spread like rot, the way desperation revealed the ugliest parts of human nature.
You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the words spill out, raw and jagged. âI watched people turn on each other. Families. Friends. People whoâd shared meals, shared stories, whoâd promised to have each otherâs backs. They fought over scraps. They left others behind without a second thought. And when the barricade fell⌠when the dead came throughâŚâ Your voice wavers, and you clench your jaw to steady it. âThey didnât just leave the weak behind. They trampled them. Used them as bait. Anything to save themselves.â
Jungwon doesnât say anything, but his gaze remains fixed on you, his expression unreadable. You canât tell if heâs judging you, pitying you, or just listening. Maybe itâs all three.
âIâd like to think the ones who made it out remember that place the way I do,â you say finally, your voice quieter now. âBut I donât think they do. I think they tell themselves it wasnât their fault. That they had no choice. Maybe theyâre right. But I had to see it, and I have to live with it.â
Jungwon watches you carefully, his expression unreadable but not unkind. After a moment, he asks, his voice low and steady, âIs that why you choose to survive alone?â
The question cuts through the quiet night, striking a nerve you hadnât realised was exposed. You hesitate, your gaze falling to the dark ground below. âMaybe,â you admit softly. âItâs easier, I guess. No one to rely on. No one to disappoint you. No one to leave you behind.â
Jungwon doesnât say anything immediately, but his silence feels deliberate, as though heâs giving you space to continue. You exhale slowly, the memories pressing against your chest like a weight you canât shrug off.
âWhen youâre on your own, the only person you have to worry about is yourself,â you say, your voice hardening slightly. âIf you make a mistake, you pay for it. If you survive, itâs because you earned it. Thereâs no one else to blame, and no one else to lose.â
Jungwonâs gaze doesnât waver, and thereâs a gravity in his eyes that makes you feel exposed. âBut itâs also lonely,â he says quietly, as though heâs not asking but stating a fact.
You swallow hard, the truth of his words settling uncomfortably in your chest. You donât answer, but the silence between you speaks volumes. Jungwon shifts slightly, resting his forearms on his knees as he speaks. âNot everyone wouldâve made it out of that and kept going,â he says quietly. âMost people wouldâve given up. You didnât.â
You blink, his words catching you off guard. Theyâre not exactly comforting, but thereâs a sincerity in them that makes your chest tighten, like a wound youâd forgotten you were nursing.
âI donât know if thatâs something to be proud of,â you admit, your gaze fixed on the dark forest beyond the camp.
âIt is,â Jungwon says firmly, and thereâs an edge of conviction in his tone that makes you glance at him. âIt means you didnât let it break you. And thatâs harder than most people realiseâkeeping yourself from going insane. Stopping yourself from letting this fucked-up excuse of a world swallow you whole. You didnât give in, and that counts for something.â
You study him for a moment, his face lit faintly by the moonlight, his blonde hair swaying lightly in the night breeze. His expression is calm but resolute, as though heâs been through his own version of hell and come out with his soul intact.
Youâre not sure how to respond, so you donât. Instead, you let his words sit with you, their weight lighter than the memories theyâve momentarily displaced.
âYouâre not as rough around the edges as Jay seems to think,â he says after a while, his tone lighter now. âBut youâre not like the others either. Youâve got... fight in you.â
You glance at him, arching an eyebrow. âIs that supposed to be a compliment?â
He smirks. âTake it however you want.â
âBut thatâs not what we do here,â he continues. âIf someone falls behind, we donât leave them.â
You turn to him, searching his face for any hint of deception, any sign that this is just a comforting lie. But his expression is earnest, his eyes unwavering.
Youâve been on your own for almost six months. You donât even remember the last time you had a conversation this long with anyone. Words, when they did come, were usually short, functionalâcommands barked at yourself to keep moving, or fleeting exchanges shouted during desperate encounters.
This, sitting and talking, feels foreign. Unnatural.
Itâs not that you havenât come across other survivors. Youâve met people. Survivors who had extended a hand, offered you a place in their groups. Some seemed kind, others desperate. But you rejected them all. Trust is a luxury you canât afford, and joining a group means opening yourself to betrayal, to risk. Youâve seen what people are capable of when the stakes are life and death. Better to keep moving on your own than rely on someone who could turn on you at any moment.
Still, sitting here with Jungwon, his calm voice cutting through the quiet night, you find yourself oddly enjoying it.
âMust be exhausting, caring about people.â you say, a faint, almost reluctant smile tugging at your lips.
Jungwon chuckles softly, the sound low and almost foreign in the stillness of the night. âIt is,â he admits, his gaze flicking briefly to the camp below. The firelight dances across the faces of the others, who are finally beginning to settle down for the night. âBut itâs worth it. At least, I like to think it is.â
You watch him for a moment, the corners of your mouth quirking slightly upward. âDid you know each other? Before?â
âYup,â he says, leaning back against the rough railing of the makeshift watchtower. The faint moonlight softens the hard edges of his face as he speaks, his tone lighter now, touched with nostalgia. âChildhood friends. Iâd just started university, and they wanted to come check out the campus. It was supposed to be a quick visit.â
He pauses, his gaze drifting toward the dark expanse of trees surrounding the camp. âWe just so happened to be together when everything went to shit.â
The simplicity of his words doesnât mask the weight they carry. You imagine the sceneâan ordinary day, plans for the future barely set in motion, torn apart by chaos. You wonder if he thinks about how different things mightâve been if the timing had been just slightly off. If heâd been alone, or if they hadnât been there together.
âLucky, I guess,â you say quietly, though the word feels wrong in your mouth. Luck doesnât feel like it belongs in this world anymore, not when it comes with such brutal cost.
âYeah,â Jungwon replies, his voice softer now, almost like heâs agreeing and disagreeing at the same time. âLucky.â
âWhat happened?â you ask cautiously, sensing the weight of his memories but curious nonetheless.
He exhales slowly, the breath heavy with remembrance. âWe started out as a big groupâmost of the faculty ended up holed up in the auditorium. We thought weâd escape the initial chaos for the time. But someone got bit early on and hid it from the rest of us. They turned in the middle of the night. It took out half of us before we even knew what was happening.â
You swallow hard, the familiar pang of loss and horror creeping into your chest. âAnd the rest of you?â
âThe seven of us, plus a few others, managed to get out alive,â he says, his voice tinged with a faint bitterness. âWe thought our luck had turned when we ran into a group of people in military uniforms. They had tanks, rifles, the works. We thought we were safe.â
âThat was The Future, wasnât it?â you ask, recalling the name youâd overheard the others mention earlier.
Jungwonâs gaze sharpens, his expression darkening. âDo you really not know anything about The Future?â
You shake your head slowly, a knot of unease forming in your stomach. âNo. Iâve been on my own for months. Iâve seen groups, but nothing that sounds like what youâre describing.â
Jungwon leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His voice lowers, taking on a colder edge. âTheyâre not a group. Theyâre an organisation. Big. Made up of military personnels who went rogue when they realised the government couldnât control the outbreak, and high profile politicians started to abandon the people to save themselves.â
Your stomach twists uncomfortably, the weight of his words sinking in. The idea of a well-organised, militarised group with no one to answer to makes your skin crawl. âAnd you escaped from them?â you ask, your voice quieter now.
He nods, his jaw tightening. âBarely.â
âIf theyâre so strong,â you press cautiously, âwhy did you leave?â
Jungwonâs lips press into a thin line, his gaze dropping briefly to the dark ground below before lifting to meet yours again. âTheir way of surviving⌠itâs messed up,â he says, his tone grim. âIt isnât about helping anyoneâitâs about control. They take what they want. Supplies, people, anything they think they can use. If they decide youâre deadweight, just another mouth to feed, they wonât hesitate toâŚâ He trails off, the unspoken words hanging heavy between you.
Your throat feels tight. âIs that why Jake said theyâd gotten rid off all their women?â you ask tentatively, the memory of Jakeâs earlier comment sharp in your mind.
Jungwonâs expression darkens further. âNot all,â he corrects, though the words do little to ease the growing unease in your chest. âJust those who, to them, served no purpose. And not just women. Children. The elderly. Anyone with a disability, or even someone who was sickâwhether it was visible or not. If you couldnât pull your weight or be useful to their âmission,â you were as good as dead.â
Your stomach churns, bile rising in your throat. âThatâs not survival,â you say quietly, your voice shaking slightly. âThatâsââ
âEvil?â Jungwon finishes for you, his tone bitter. âYeah. It is. They hide it under words like âefficiencyâ and ânecessity,â but itâs just cruelty. Thatâs why we left.â
You can see the weight of the memories in his eyes, the lingering shadows of everything heâs seen and done to survive. For a moment, the silence between you feels suffocating, the distant rustle of the forest doing little to break the tension.
âHow many of you escaped?â you ask, though youâre not sure you want to know the answer.
âDoesnât matter, weâre all thatâs left.â he says simply, his voice carrying the weight of names and faces youâll likely never know.
He leans back against the watchtower railing, his shoulders sagging slightly as if the weight of the past has settled there. âWeâve been running ever since. Trying to stay ahead of them. Trying to survive without becoming like them.â
The knot in your stomach tightens further. The apocalypse had already stripped the world of so muchâlife, hope, humanityâand now it seemed to have given rise to something even worse.
You glance down at the camp below, at the group who had been wary of you, who still didnât fully trust you. Yet despite everything, theyâd chosen to leave a place like that behind, to hold onto something resembling morality.
âMustâve taken a lot,â you say quietly. âTo leave. To fight back.â
âIt did,â Jungwon replies, his voice steady but tired. âBut if surviving means losing everything that makes us human, then whatâs the point?â
His words linger in the cool night air, settling deep into your bones. For the first time, you realise that you and the group arenât so different after all. Just ordinary people, barely on the cusp of adulthood, thrust into a world that demands you play the role of protectors. Not because youâre ready, but because the ones who should have been there to protect you failed. Now, all you have is each other, forced to fill the gaps left behind by the people who should have kept you safe.
"But why are they still trying to hunt you down?" you ask, the question slipping out before you can think twice. It lingers in the air between you, heavy with curiosity and unease.
Jungwonâs jaw tightens, his gaze shifting to the dark treeline beyond the camp. For a moment, it seems like he might not answer. Then, with a quiet sigh, he leans forward again, his elbows resting on his knees.
âBecause we didnât just leave,â he says, his voice low and edged with something darkerâregret, perhaps, or anger. âWe took supplies. Food, medicine, weapons. Enough to give us a fighting chance out here. To them, thatâs unforgivable. They donât see people. They see assets. Resources they think they own.â
You feel a chill crawl down your spine as you process his words. âYou think theyâre after the supplies you took?â
âItâs not just about the supplies,â Jungwon replies, his tone grim. âItâs about control. We embarrassed them. Made them look weak. To The Future, thatâs worse than losing anything physical. If they let us go, it sets a precedent. It shows people that theyâre not invincible, and then what is to stop others from doing the same?â
Your stomach churns. âSo theyâre chasing you to make an example of you.â
âExactly,â he says, his voice colder now. âThey want everyone to know what happens when you cross them. And they wonât stop until they get what they want.â
The weight of his words settles heavily in your chest, the reality of their situation sinking in. Itâs not just survival theyâre fighting forâitâs freedom from a force that refuses to let them go. You glance back at Jungwon, his expression calm but laced with something harder, something forged by experience.
âHow long have you been running?â you ask softly.
Jungwon exhales, the sound low and tired. âAlmost six months,â he admits, his gaze fixed on the treeline.
Thereâs a pause before he continues, quieter this time, as though saying it aloud makes it more real. âAlthough⌠we think we might have lost them. For now. But weâre always ready to keep moving. Always looking over our shoulders.â
âEvery time we think weâre safe enough to settle down, they find us,â he murmurs. âLike an obsessive ex-girlfriend, you know?â
The analogy catches you off guard, and you chuckle despite the seriousness of the conversation. Itâs a strained laugh, but genuineâa brief flicker of something human in the midst of everything bleak. âThe kind that wonât take a hint?â
Jungwon huffs a small laugh of his own, though thereâs no real humour behind it. âExactly.â He glances at you, a shadow of a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. âExcept this oneâs got a lot more firepower.â
That explains it. Why they were so willing to leave the camp unattended, why they carried more supplies on their backs than they could possibly need. It wasnât out of carelessness or greedâit was strategy. They packed light enough to keep moving, but just heavy enough to make sure they wouldnât have to stop.
Everything they did was calculated, preparing for the worst. Ready to run at a momentâs notice if the situation demanded it.
Ready to disappear without a trace.
The fire below flickers, its faint glow casting long shadows across his face. For a moment, you see the weariness behind his sharp exterior, the cracks in the armour heâs built to protect himself and the people he cares about.
âYou said tonight was differentâyou said there were a lot more of them than usual. Why did you think that way?â Jungwon asks, his tone low and measured, though his eyes flicker with unease.
You hesitate, chewing on your thoughts. The question pulls at loose threads in your mind, unravelling memories of the streets youâve come to know too well. Images flash behind your eyesâthe empty alleys, the shifting shadows, the silence that stretches too long before it breaks. Youâve always trusted your gut, and tonight, it screamed louder than ever.
Something is wrong.
âThe city is⌠unpredictable,â you reply carefully, the words slow as you try to make sense of the thoughts swirling in your head. âSome days, the streets are empty. You might see the occasional horde passing through. They linger for a bit before something else catches their attentionâa noise, a movement, anything that draws them away.â
âBut hordes⌠theyâre creatures of habit,â Jungwon listens intently as you continue, his brow furrowed, tension tightening his posture. âThe noise they make keeps them together, pulling in the surrounding stragglers to join their little marching band. Itâs a cycle. And thatâs what makes them manageable. You can figure out their patterns, track the way they move, and avoid them if youâre careful.â
âBut tonight, thoughâŚâ You pause, the words lingering on your tongue like a bad taste you canât quite spit out. âIt wasnât just one or two. It felt like they were coming from everywhere. Every direction.â
Jungwonâs gaze flickers to meet yours, and for a moment, neither of you says anything. His expression hardens, the flicker of dread in his eyes matching your own.
âLike someone put them there.â
The words hang in the air, thick and heavy. As soon as you finish, the thought sends a chill down your spine, settling deep in your chest. The silence stretches between you both, tense and oppressive, as the weight of the implication sinks in.
The idea that someoneâanyoneâmight be capable of coordinating something so horrifying is almost impossible to comprehend. Almost.
âDo you think it was deliberate?â you ask, your voice quieter now, as if afraid to hear the answer.
Jungwon exhales slowly, his expression hardening. âTruth is, we donât know for sure. We were in the city earlier, scouting for car parts to fix up the van. Thatâs when we thought we ran into members of The Future. But one thing about themâthey donât fuck with the cities. They stick to the communities near their base, taking whatever they needâsupplies, weapons, fuel. They think the cities are too dangerous, too unpredictable.â His words hang in the air for a moment before he continues, his voice darker now. âBut the way the hordes moved tonight... it felt like someone wanted them to sweep the area.â
The thought settles over you like a heavy fog. âBut you donât think itâs them? The Future?â
Jungwon shakes his head, though the hesitation in his expression is hard to miss. âItâs not their style. They donât deal in chaosâthey deal in control. And releasing hordes into the city? Thatâs reckless. Dangerous, even for them.â
âIf it wasnât them...â you start, but your voice falters.
Jungwonâs gaze sharpens as it meets yours, steady but grim.
âThen itâs someone else."
You sense that the weight of the conversation is more than you can handle for the rest of the night, and you know Jungwon senses it too. The quiet lingers between you, heavy but not unpleasant, the kind that almost invites you to leave the darkness of your thoughts behind.
âShould I go wake Jake and Ni-ki up for their shift?â you suggest, breaking the silence. Youâre not sure whether the talk with Jungwon has helped ease some of your inner turmoil or if the sheer exhaustion from the dayâs events is finally catching up to you, but your eyelids are growing heavier with every passing second.
Jungwon shakes his head slightly, his voice calm and even. âIâm actually just going to keep watch for the night. You can turn in if youâre tired.â
You blink at him, his words jolting you back to focus. âWhat?â you ask, disbelief lacing your tone. âIn that case, weâll take turns. Thereâs no way Iâm leaving you up here alone the entire night. I can only imagine what Jayâs got to say when he wakes up tomorrow and finds out.â
Jungwonâs lips twitch, and then, to your surprise, he laughsâa genuine, unguarded laugh. The sound is startlingly warm, almost foreign in the bleakness of the night. For a moment, it feels like the world around you isnât as broken as it really is.
âFine,â he says, shaking his head in mild amusement. âYou can rest first. Iâll wake you in an hour.â
His words carry a gentleness you hadnât expected, and it throws you off balance more than youâd like to admit. You study his faceâthe slight crinkle at the corner of his eyes, the faint trace of a smile still lingering.
You hesitate, your exhaustion pulling at you, but the lingering sense of distrustâof everything, not just himâroots you in place. âYou sure?â you mumble, your voice heavy with fatigue.
âYeah,â he says with a faint nod, his eyes scanning the dark forest beyond the camp. âIâve got it.â
âAlright,â you finally agree, leaning back against the railing and letting yourself relax just a fraction. âBut donât forget to wake me.â
âI wonât,â he says, his voice quieter now, almost reassuring.
The weight of the day presses down on you like a blanket, and despite your reluctance, you feel your body begin to give in.
Leaning back against the rough planks of the watchtower, you close your eyes, telling yourself youâre just resting them for a moment. But the distant rustling of the trees, the faint crackle of the campfire below, and the steady presence of Jungwon beside you lull you into a state of half-awareness.
At some point, you shift unconsciously, your head tilting until it finds something solidâwarm. Youâre too far gone to realise whatâs happened, the exhaustion dragging you under.
masterlist | part 2 - warmth
âĄă¡ËË¡ ¡ËË¡ăâĄ
notes from nat: i'm adapting a new form of writing specifically for this setting. i think i mentioned before how i struggle describing present moments over writing thoughts and monologues. lo and behold, turns out an apocalypse au is all about the present moment... i'm taking this as a challenge and honestly don't have high hopes. but i sincerely appreciate the read from all of you! things will start picking up in the next part~
perm taglist. @hajimelvr @s00buwu @urmomssneakylink @grayscorner @catlicense @bubblytaetae @mrchweeee @artstaeh @sleeping-demons @yuviqik @junsflow @blurryriki @bobabunhee @hueningcry @fakeuwus @enhaslxt @neocockthotology @Starryhani @aishisgrey @katarinamae @mitmit01 @youcancometome @cupiddolle @classicroyalty @dearsjaeyun @ikeucakeu @sammie217 @tinycatharsis @M1kkso
taglist open. @sungbyhoon @theothernads @kyshhhhhh @jiryunn @strxwbloody @jaklvbub @rikikiynikilcykiki @jakesimfromstatefarm @rikiiisoob @doublebunv @thinkinboutbin @eunandonly @wilonevys @sugarikiz @jellymiki @adoredbyjay @rebeccaaaaaaaa @baedreamverse @bamguetismee @flwwon @l1s0ro @st4rgirl1235
436 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Apple Of Their Eye
part two here
PAIRING: Dark! Aegon Targaryen X sister!reader X Dark!Aemond Targaryen
CONTENT WARNING: smut (18+, mdni) incestuous relationship, dark!targaryen brothers, innocent virgin!reader, dubcon, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, handjob, riding, breeding, threesome, kissing, possessive behaviour, nipple play, throat fucking, drunk reader, praise, pretty much the targaryen brothers giving their sister sex lessons and claiming her as theirs.
SYNOPSIS: Being close to both your Targaryen brothers had its own perks. Drinking wine together, going horse riding and reading books. It was all a dream but when Aegon heard the talk of your betrothal, he decided it was finally time to taint you. What you didnât expect was Aemond walking in on you indulging in your older brotherâs sickly pleasures.
Giggles erupted from your lips when your sweet brother, Aegon made a weird face to encourage sweet giggles out of you. His favorite sound in the world, as he liked to address it. Your bond with both your brothers was something never seen before among house Targaryen. Fiercely loyal to each other, defensive and protective. You were the perfect trio of destruction â well, with a honeyed touch of peace.
That was your vital role.
To calm down the blood of the dragons.
You had grown so attached to one another that both your brothers denied the responsibilities of the throne, wishing to spend time with you.
You had to convince Aegon to sit upon the throne and he agreed in one go when his little sister asked for it. How could he not? You were looking up at him with such hopeful, glimmering eyes, those long lashes of yours coating the apple of your cheeks.
He often wondered if his bridled desires would break out of control one moon and find way to you?
Aemond entered the room, hand resting atop his sword as he analyzed the room, which was in shambles. You and Aegon again had enjoyed a pillow fight â pieces of feathers and cotton everywhere in the room. Pale sheets on the floor and wine spilled everywhere.
He was the youngest, yet he felt as though he was the oldest amongst you three. You and Aegon behaved like little children, even when you were younglings. Aegon and you would disturb the council members and pull hilarious pranks on them meanwhile Aemond paid them no mind.
âYou two.â His voice put a hold to your giggles, your attention diverting to your brother. Your silky strands â similar to Aemondâs â were a mess. They reached your hips, only at such a young age and Aemond couldn't keep his one eye off the loose strap of your dress over your creamy shoulder.
Aegon smirked to himself, knowing well him and his brother shared their feelings about you.
You smiled at Aemond, a big grin of excitement adorning your soft, delicate features. âAemond! Come here, have wine with us.â
He shook his head. âI have duties to tend to, sister. You carry on.â
Your lips formed a frown. âBut Aemond, I miss you. You rarely ever spend time with Aegon and I. Do we bore you now, do you seek fun in planning war and those boring councils?â
Aegon nodded in agreement and Aemond shook his head, walking closer and taking a seat on the bed with you. Aegon had his head on your lap, staring at you with love sick eyes of a puppy. Your flushed state and rosette cheeks were a vision for Aemond â his callous hands aching to touch you.
âAemond how can you neglect our beautiful sister here?â Aegon taunted, reaching out to wrap a finger around a strand of your silver hair and curl it. You smiled at him, cheeks round and Aemond swallowed. âI am not neglecting her, I am merely occupied with tending to my duties since no one else will.â
He diverted his one eye to Aegon and the older brother groaned, tugging on the single strand of your hair. You whimpered at the pain, lips puckering into a pout. âAegon, stop it.â
âYou shouldn't trust Aegon so much, sweet sister. He is all but a twat,â Aemondâs words made you turn to him and he looked away from you, not wanting his gaze to linger somewhere below where he was allowed. His own reluctance at being around you proved that he too struggled with the same demons his older brother did.
Aegon sat up now, eyes boring into Aemondâs. âAnd why shouldn't she? I pay her more mind, more attention than you ever would.â
âI trust him, brother. You should too, he's our king and he cares for me.â You softly spoke.
Your soft soothing voice was like the sun against their cold words. Aemond pondered late at night how their monstrous house got blessed with such a sweet little thing? Repentance was not something that came to house Targaryen â so why were they bestowed with you?
Your kindness, to the maids â the highborn ladies and even the members of the small council made you quite the perfect candidate for queen, especially when the realm loved and adored you. The sweet daughter of Viserys Targaryen, left behind to bring prosperity and love.
âYeah, she trusts me.â Aegon said, scooting behind you. His chin nestled over the small cup of your shoulder, staring straight ahead with mischief in his gaze. âDon't you, sweet sister?â
You nodded, coyly.
He was almost taunting Aemond, being able to stay this close to you while he was busy with preparing for war. It was not fair, definitely to Aemond it was not. He inhaled a sharp breath as Aegon buried his face in the crook of your neck, accidentally pressing a kiss to your exposed skin. Your body shuddered and you quickly pulled away from him, staring at him in confusion.
Aemond felt a lump form in his throat.
Fuck, you were so innocent. Oblivious to the sick desires of both your brothers.
âBe careful, sister.â Aemond said to you, gesturing towards the other Targaryen brother. âYou're too innocent for your own good.â
Then he got up, parting from your chambers, hoping that the next time he enters, he finds you all alone and not with that foolish brother of his. He did not harbor resentment towards Aegon necessarily, but ever since they were children, they fought. For a dragon, for toys and for your attention. It had been a constant battle of who'd bring you the prettiest flower first, who would be first to dance with you at feasts, who's horse you'd sit on and ride.
For everyone else it was draining but you relished the attention you got from your brothers. Enjoying each and every bit of the fight going on for you â only you didn't knew it went beyond the walls of brotherly love and they were horrifyingly obsessed with you.
Aemond had turned down every marriage alliance, not interested in securing the future of the realm if it came at the expense of being far from you. A woman would only act as a wall between the two of you and Aemond did not want any walls. He would gladly crush them, with or without the help of Vhagar.
You prepared another cup of wine to drink but Aegon was called to the council â arranged by the dowager Queen. Crestfallen, you let your brother go as he fixed his attire and departed from your chambers, after leaving a sweet kiss on your forehead.
As soon as Aegon entered the council room, he's greeted with everyone there. Each member and with a scowl on his face, he takes his seat. Evidently upset by having to leave his sister, even though he could go back to her at anytime.
âYour Grace.â Everyone greeted him, standing up and heads low. Aegon gestured them to sit and they obliged, following into their comfortable seats.
Alicent looked at the council members, knowing that the discussion they had come to would eventually upset the King. Everyone was hesitant and Aegon noticed that. He raised a brow, confused. âAre we here to stare at one another? If we are, do excuse me. I have pressing matters to attend to.â
Everyone knew pressing matters meant giving his undivided attention to his little sister.
âIn order to secure house frey and gain access and control to the passage in riverrun, we think it would be best to form a marriage alliance with them.â Alicentâs words didn't actually hit Aegon how they were supposed to, as he grinned. âWe cannot offer a dragon, we can offer a dragon.â
Assuming the marriage alliance was for Aemond, his younger brother not his little sister. âGreat, it is about time Aemond finds himself a pretty bird too.â
He was cheerful. If Aemond was married, he would have your attention all to himself and he became overjoyed with that, a little too fast. Alicent swallowed, exchanging glances with the master of coin and the maester. Her hesitance was in existence because she did not know how maturely her son would handle to the news of sending his only sister away from him.
âYour Grace, the marriage alliance is for your sister, the Princess. House frey has suitors available and the Princess gets to choose with whom she wishes to maââ
Aegonâs palms slammed down against the wooden table, rising up from the table. His gaze searing and his lips quivering from the sheer courage of Tyland Lannisterâs, to marry his sister off without even inquiring him about it. The fact that they even thought of doing that filled him with a rage so overwhelming, he felt like burning the whole small council to the ground.
âThat is my sister you're speaking of.â He reminded them. âI will have your fucking tongue for even suggesting to get her married off in the first place.â
The whole council flinched at the Kingâs outburst. Alicent had expected it to be a tantrum but this was more than a childish tantrum. The room was elevated with tension as Aegon panted, his body quivering from the rage coursing through his veins.
Alicent took a deep breath. âIt is for the best, my King. You need to win this war and the Freys are demanding a dragon which we cannot provide.â
âSo you give them my sister, like some fucking piece of coin?â He snapped, turning to her. âShe is the princess of house Targaryen, my sister. I will not have you subject her to the same fate as all the other women.â
Aegon dismissed the council, walking out of there. Alicent sighed, holding onto tethered pieces of hope that maybe talking to Aemond about it would be better, since Aegon did consider him his closest blood and best sword. Little did she know she would be riling up another dragon and awakening it.
The next few hours were unbearable for Aegon. He had visited your chambers but you were nowhere to be found and when he asked your maids, he was told you'd gone out to collect flowers for the vase in your room. Countless times both your brothers had told you to either tell them or command the servants to bring you flowers â still you did what you felt.
Upon your return, you found your chambers not deserted. Aegon was there, situated on your bed. Hair a mess, tunic unbuttoned revealing his pale chest. Your brother was disheveled and you couldn't recall the time you two spent together being the cause of this.
So what had happened?
Worried and upset, you dropped the basket filled with flowers by the side of your door and walked over to him. Your purple dress, a match to your purple eyes, flowing behind like the waves of the sea. You sat next to your brother, small hands reaching out to cup his face in them.
âBrother, is everything alright? You seem upset.â You inquired and when Aegon raised his head, you saw just how devasted he appeared.
Devasted and drunk.
Your eyes noticed the cup in his hand, as well as the pitcher on the floor. Something happened at the small council, that much you figured out. But what had happened, now that was for Aegon to tell you.
Though your brother only stared at you, bringing the cup to your lips. âDrink, for me.â
You were in no mood for wine but you still obliged him, parting your lips and consuming the wine. The crimson tainting your lips red as you swallowed it, gulp after gulp. Even for you that was a lot and when you were finished, Aegon refilled the empty cup.
âDrink more.â It was a command.
You frowned. âDid I do something wrong, brother? Is this your way of reprimanding me?â
He stared at you, eyes droopy and full of glimmering lust for you â unbeknownst to you. âI want us to be drunk together, like old times. Please.â
You heard the plea in his voice and nodded, softening at the disheveled state your brother was in. You parted your lips to take sips as Aegon held the cup for you. He pushed it, more and more until the wine had overwhelmed you and drops spilled over your dress, trailing down your chin.
The red had absorbed into the purple but you finished your glass, staring at Aegon after the glass had been tore from your lips.
Aegon moved further into your soft bed, veiled by pellucid pale curtain and you followed, laying next to him. His head found comfort on your chest, a frown so evidently ceasing his features. Confusion had clouded your senses â hoping that your brother might tell you the cause of his distress.
But all he did was lay silently on your chest, feeling the soft plush of your breasts against his cheek.
Aegon swallowed the urge to press his mouth over your pebbles and suck them, burying his face deeper into your breasts. He was a mess and he knew that his mother would go against him, to secure more power and alliances with the other lords.
He could not let it happen.
He mouthed lazily at the chiffon, attempting to take a nipple of yours into his mouth. The purple fabric absorbed the saturation of his saliva, as your brother crossed all the limits between the two of you.
As if there were any to begin with.
âA-Aegon, what are you doing?â You whispered in a breathy gasp when he sucked on your peaked nipple through the cotton, his other hand moving to provide your other breast with attention.
Your back arched slightly and your breath quickened as your brotherâs hands moved down to the laces which held your dress together. As drunk as you were, you still knew this was wrong yet had no control whatsoever of the situation. Once your laces were loosened enough, Aegon tugged at the sleeve of your dress and unveiled your breast.
âBrother, this is inappropriate. You're under the influence of wine, we should notââ
Aegon looked up at you with the softest look on his face, akin to a puppy. He switched his attention to the unattended breast of yours which he had uncovered, suckling on the nipple, fingers rolling the soaked one in between them. Your soft lips were parted and made the prettiest little sounds of pleasure foreign to you.
âI'm your brother, sister. If I don't deserve to have you like this when who does? Those fucking house frey suitors?â He snapped, voice fallen to a few octaves. Your breath hitched in your throat at his words, not being able to understand what he was insinuating with his words.
Your brows scrunched and your crinkles formed on your nose. âH-House frey, Aegon?â
He chose silence.
Aegon moved to lean up against the bed, his unbuttoned tunic revealing his bare chest beneath his small clothes. You watched him, your silver hair a mess â cascading beautifully down your shoulders and narrow back. Aegon patted his lap, a silent order for you to sit on it but you could only blink innocently.
Having no regards of such matters.
âCrawl to me, sister.â
You nodded, as puzzled as you were, slithering to settle yourself over your brother's lap. Both hands on his chest as your thighs sat over each side of his waist, looking down at him. This was all new to you but you were not complaining.
His hand extended to grasp your chin, pulling your face closer to him. He could see everything, all the subtle features which made you all the more beautiful. The mole neath your left eye, the way your pupils enlarged whenever you locked eyes with him, how your pretty lips quivered. âToday I will teach you how to make your brothers the happiest. You wish to learn, don't you sister?â
You eagerly nodded.
Aegon grinned. âKiss me, my little dove.â
You obliged, pressing a kiss to his cheek and Aegon released a chuckle. In complete awe of the naivety you possessed. âHere, sister. This will make me and Aemond the happiest.â
You were hesitant with it but still leaned your head, pressing a subtle, feather light kiss to Aegonâs lips. His hunger was far from satiated as he stared at you with a hooded gaze, his blood heating up at the feel of your lips against his. He was over the moon with only a peck, he could only imagine the power of a proper liplock.
âDid I do good? Was that okay, brother?â
Aegon shook his head. âNo, little dove. You have to do more, kiss more of my lips. Try to suck on them, yeah?â
You puffed out your cheeks, irritated at your own incompetence at making your brother happy. Still, you kissed him once more but this time like a baby bird trying to eat it's food with untrained beaks, you tried to suck on Aegonâs lips. Closing them around his upper lip, your saliva glossing his lips. Aegonâs cock stirred awake in his breeches at how inexperienced you truly were. An innocent girl getting ruined by her brother.
You closed your eyes, focusing at the task at hand. Aegon reached for your nape, locking it in place as he finally kissed you back. Soft kiss of yours evolved into something harsher, something more passionate and you whimpered, your endeavor to retreat declined by your brother. Your small hands nestled over his chest â trying to push him but it only strengthened the kiss, Aegon trying to drown in the sweet nectar.
âOpen your mouth, little dove.â Your endeavor to speak was mistaken as consent by your brother, his tongue running over the edge of your perfect teeth â making way to your tongue. He wrapped around the wet muscle and began to suck on it, the saliva dripping from your mouth and slipping into his. Light headed you had become due to the vigorous kiss and how your brother dominated your mouth with his tongue.
Aegon soon broke the kiss and allowed you a few moments of air, staring at how swollen your lips had become. He had tasted you and it only fuelled his desire more for you. To claim you and never let anyone else's sight fall upon you. Heart fluttering at being the first man ever to put his cock inside you.
âThis is what good sisters do for their brothers.â He said to you, his hands rested on your thighs and thumbs swiping across the pale skin. âYou're such a good girl, my Princess. You'd do anything for your King, won't you?â
You nodded your head impatiently, doe eyes looking into your brother's purple ones. Chest falling and rising, sharp intakes of breath breaking through the silence. Aegon smiled and that was the biggest achievement for you, ever. He lifted one hand from your thigh, taking your small hand into his. Aegon loved how your petite hand disappeared into his â a perfect size you were for him.
He wondered in that very moment how you'd look taking Aemondâs cock into your small mouth, considering he was bigger than the both of you. Taller, toned from the constant training of wielding a sword. The thought of both of them taking you at once riled him up like nothing else.
Aegon brought your hand to his crotch, laying it over it. Your coy eyes widened. âB-Brother.â
âUnlace my trousers, sister.â Albeit it was an order, his tone was soft. You had never seen such a dark look in your sweet brother's eyes, violets always glimmering with excitement and happiness.
You were hesitant at first, reluctance dripping from the way your shivering fingers pulled at the soft laces which tightened his trousers. Aegon watched with a curious gaze, knowing very well he was about to defile his little sister and ruin the innocence she so wholeheartedly showcased. It almost made him sad but this was necessary, to wed you to him. Or even Aemond.
He couldn't care less who you married as long as it was one of them.
With bated breath, you loosened his trousers and then looked at him for further instructions.
âPull out my cock, sister. You should feel something hard, that is my cock.â Your silver lashes fluttered, fingers getting to work. The second you felt something hard, skin but rigid â you grasped it to free it. Aegon hissed upon your cold touch and you retreated, feeling bad.
He was quick to reach for you. âNo, no. Do not worry, for I am fine. You shall continue.â
So you did, given the reassurance, your gaze focusing on the unclothed cock of your sweet brother. Aegon reached for your hand and wrapped it around his own cock with your neath it. âI need you to move your hand, sister. Pursue my actions, this will truly please me.â
Aegon began to move his hand in slow, sensual strokes and you followed. The more you touched him, the more he lost his composure. Little sounds falling from his parted lips and his hand fell to the side over his thigh â letting you take the lead. You picked up your pace, hand undulating over his throbbing length.
Palm stained with his precum, you used it to slick his twitching cock and then moved your fingers up. A shuddered gasp of fulfillment slipping from Aegonâs mouth upon that accident. You smiled, in victory and pressed the pad of your thumb deeper into his little hole. Watching as more of the pale liquid spurted out.
The more you stared at it, the prettier you found it â shade darker than the rest of him and cock head the same pink as his agape lips. Varicose veins, a deeper hue of purple than the ones of your irises embedded in neath the flesh.
Eyes sparkling at the thought of touching Aemond in the same way, getting to see such an intimate part of him. You wished he was here, to be able to do this for him would be a great blessing.
Your mouth watered the more you gazed at your brother's glistening cock head. Without paying much mind to it, you leaned lower and closed your lips around it. Aegonâs eyes immediately snapped open when he felt the warmth your mouth provided and stared down at you.
âOh, Gods.â He groaned, almost a whine. âWho taught you this, my sister? Have you engaged in such acts before?â
You quickly backed away, shaking your head with a guilt ridden face. âNo, Aegon. I am so very sorry if this was something I was not supposed to do. I promise I have never done this before, I promise. I sweaââ
âHey,â Aegon whispered, caressing your face with his large hand. âI believe you. You see I do not wish for you to get involved like this with someone else. It is only right if you do it with me, and Aemond.â
You nodded your head understandingly. âI would love for you to continue, my little dove but right now I need something more. Could you give it to me, my sweet girl?â
âYes, brother. Anything my King wants.â You smiled, lips shimmering with his residual and Aegonâs cock twitched.
He pulled you on his lap once more, hands on your waist. Then the pair dropped lower to your bare thighs and Aegon bunched up your dress, revealing your unclothed, bare pink cunt. You were never too fond of wearing small clothes under your dresses â summer of Westeros unbearable for a delicate thing like you.
He licked his lips deliciously.
âJust as you touched me, I have the full right to touch you too. You understand?â You nodded like an obedient student, stomach churning in anticipation for your brother's next move.
Aegon pulled you closer rather harshly by your thighs and your shoulders went slumped, feeling his head brush against your pearl. Your eyes widening at the electrifying contact. âI need to do this in order to make my cock fit inside you, so be a good girl and let me, okay?â
âYes, brother.â You whispered, stomach fluttering in anticipation.
Aegonâs fingers moved to your cunt, running in the center of your soaked folds. He found it amusing how you had no idea of the pleasures taken between a man and a woman yet your body had reacted like this, cunt drenched and wet. He knew your maidenhead was still intact, after all he rarely ever let you be in the presence of someone else.
If Aegon was occupied, it would be Aemond who would linger around you like a new born shadow.
They knew how innocent you were, how fucking naive and monsters lurked in the red keep. You needed their protection more than the people of the realm. Careless they were about the iron throne, Aegon wished to fuck you on it before properly ascending it.
âOh.â Your eyes slightly rolled back at the way your brother caressed your folds, pinching your pink pearl. âYou've got such a beautiful cunt, my sister. I am sure you will put it to good use to make your brothers happy, won't you, little dove?â
Eager you were to please them.
They had brought you everything, anything your heart had ever desired. Allowed you to ride their dragons with them, brought you the most beautiful gifts from the north and drowned you in lannister gold. Both brothers even went as far as getting you jewelry from Dorne since Aemond caught you complimenting a dornish necklace.
Aemonâs thumb prodded at your bud, swirling it around, watching how your face contorted in pleasure. Lids fluttering shut and head thrown back, fingernails digging into your brother's chest. You were a fucking sight, all disheveled. With his other hand, he entered a finger into you and your pleasure-clad face evolved into one of pain.
âOw,â you complained at the sting of being stretched out. âAegon, that hurts.â
âI know, my Princess but you mustn't rush. I will bring you pleasure soon, it is a promise.â
You believed him, waiting out the sting as Aegon fully sunk his finger into you. Driving it in and out of you, all the while rubbing your swollen attention seeking bud. Your expressions were the prettiest, the most breathtaking and he questioned himself why did he not do this earlier?
Just what was stopping him back?
He was the fucking King, goddamnit. He could have you whenever he wanted and you would give yourself up to him, everytime. Just like right now how you were serving yourself up to him on a silver platter like those animals during feasts.
âBrother, oh my god. This feels weird, I feel weird.â You whimpered, hips moving on their own accord over your brother's fingers and Aegon licked his lips, furthermore sinking his canines into his lower lip.
Aegon added another without warning and you whined out, a loud one which made him reach over and press his palm over your lips, sealing them shut. âAs much as I absolutely adore your sounds, we should not let anyone find out.â
You nodded, and Aegon removed his hand, letting you breathe. You decided to keep it blow but everytime Aegon would move his finger inside you and you would feel it run at your gummy unclaimed walls, little whimpers would escape you. Feeling his fingers curve up and rotate, hitting into a spongy spot of whichâs existence you too were unaware of, you cried out.
Aegon smiled.
That was enough preparing.
Aegon pulled out and you gasped when he brought his lips to his mouth, sucking on your sweet arousal.
He wanted to take you on your back but that was how he took his whores. He would never let them sit on top of his thighs and look at him like this â all dolled up yet disheveled. You were his sister, the apple of his fucking eye and Aegon was not going to take you like some whores.
They existed to keep his sick desires for you at bay, but he knew after this, he would not be needing them anymore.
âThis is going to hurt, sister but worry not, I assure you I am right here. It shall feel better soon, just like with my fingers.â His comforting words and soft tone helped with your trepidation â allowing your brother to raise your hips and align his cock with your drenched hole.
Aegon allowed you to sink down on him and when his head breached your entrance, a sting worse than before spread like a virus, consuming your whole being. Your eyes welled up with tears and your lips quivered, a brusque tremor awakening in your petite hands. He was quick to come to your rescue, holding both your hands and leading the pair to his nape, making you latch onto him for support.
âHere, hold me. As tight as you can, my little dove and carefully slide down. Be careful and gentle, alright? No rush here.â He continuously comforted, guiding you and you nodded, inhaling a deep and brief breath.
Then you sunk more, his girth expanding your hole. Little movement and reassuring words from your brother helped you take the entirety of his cock and when your ass finally met his thighs, Aegon groaned. You felt his cock twitch inside you and your hold around his nape tightened. The pain was throbbing and hot â consuming your whole being but the fact you were so full with your brother's cock, contempt, you let out a drunk giggle.
Short on breath but still, you smiled at Aegon.
While you two descended deeper into forbidden pleasures, Aemond had gotten free time to come see you.
After intense sword training and back and forth of sharing strategies of the war with Ser Criston Cole, Aemond had found his feet switching route â bringing you to the hallway where your chambers were located. As he walked, with each step, he felt extreme excitement build up in his stomach. Finally having enough time to spare you a visit and get drunk, bask in your presence.
He hoped that Aegon would not be there as he wanted you all to himself, especially for tonight.
Upon opening the door to your chambers, the view before him left him astonished and there were rarely many things that left Aemond Targaryen astonished. He was quick to close the doors, not wishing for anyone to come across the Princessâ bed chambers and witness such sin.
His hands formed into fists â how you sat on top of Aegon, hips oscillating in a sensual manner. Too sensual for someone as innocent as you and he knew Aegon had managed to ruin and defile the only pure thing about house Targaryen. Yet fucking again. You two were so indulged and far gone in your pleasures that Aemondâs presence was barely noticed.
But then Aegon caught his brother's tall figure by the door.
âOh brother, welcome.â He called out, although it was more of a moan and you turned to look at Aemond.
Your cunt tightened at Aegon when gaze laid over your brother, the one you missed the most since he barely had time to spare. Aegon let out a hoarse chuckle, shaking his head at his brother. âYou will not fucking believe it but our sister's cunt became more tight upon seeing you.â
Aemondâs teeth gritted. âMittys, that is our sister.â (Fool)
âDo not pretend as if you have not wished to do this more than I have.â He voiced it out, hand pressing into your waist. You whimpered as Aegon made you move on his cock and by now the pain had subsided, pleasure coming in to take control. You began to roll your hips over his thighs, eyes locked with Aemond.
You needed him too, your eyes screamed for him to come closer and as if you had telepathically communicated, Aemond sauntered towards the bed.
You whined when Aegon pushed his hips up, breaching furthermore of your cunt. âAemond.â
Aegon was inside you but you were moaning for Aemond and the older brother did not even find it upsetting. Rather his cock hardened even more â if possible, hearing you whine and ache for your younger brother with such need. He did not mind sharing you with Aemond, as long as he could have his fill of you too.
âA-Aegon said I could make you both happier like this. I want to, I love you. You're my brothers.â You expressed your profound love for them, nodding your head as Aemond slipped of his leather gloves. He tossed them aside and reached for your hair, taking a strand and curling it around his finger. His nose catching a whiff of the perfumes and oils you were basking in, yet the natural scent of roses was enough to drive him fucking crazy.
He leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to your bare shoulder. Eye following the stretch mark trailing down to your breasts and the stretched flesh made him realize that you had grown. You were not a little girl anymore but you were still their little sister. Your rosy nipples were peaked â demanding attention and Aemond hissed.
His own cock bulging against his leather slacks and Aegon saw it.
Aegon moved inside you, thrusting up and you lost composure. Lips breaking apart to let out the most feminine sounds, silver strands glued on a perspired forehead as Aemond watched you bounce on his brother's cock with vigor. Your fingernails had dug into Aegonâs nape and tears sat beautifully like pearls in your waterline.
It was evident that you were sensitive, nothing like the common whores.
âDoes she not look fucking beautiful, bouncing on her big brother's cock like that?â
Aemond wanted to punch Aegon but he was not wrong. You did look celestial, out of this world with how you bounced up and down on his cock, trying to desperately please him.
Aegon rolled his eyes at Aemond. âAre you only going to just watch? I have taught her things, with her hand and mouth. Be a dear and show him, sister.â
Like a trained puppy, you were quick to oblige, hands extended to work gracefully over Aemondâs leather slacks. You undid them, pulling at the leather and he watched how eager and desperate you were. Hands moving with a significant tremor.
âAemond,â he raised his eye from your hands to your face. âmay I please have you in my mouth?â
If the offer had crawled to him on its fucking fours with the most precious doe eyes, who was he to deny? He, too was a man at the end and had perpetually craved you the same as Aegon. Only he was subtle with his desires.
âYes, my sweet sister.â Aemond whispered, staring at you. His consent made you flourish like the moonlight, bright and glowing right in his face.
Aegon decided it would be better to switch positions and he pulled out, bringing you on all your fours and giving space to Aemond against the bed headboard. He shifted, sprawled out before you, leather slacks and small clothes long gone. In the process, Aegon had stripped himself bare too but the brothers wanted you to not remove the dress.
Just how easily they had access to you despite the dress, it enticed them.
With Aemondâs cock in your hand, you came to a conclusion that his was the prettiest. It was longer than Aegonâs but had almost the same girth. Protruding veins embedded inside the pale skin, his balls hot and throbbing with an ache. You looked up at him and smiled and all Aemond could do was return it and fucking melt.
âAemond, remove your eye patch. I want to see you whole.â You voiced out your desires and he reached for the eye patch, sliding it off and tossing it aside. The sapphire sparkled like crazy in his eye and you had always found it to be the most coolest and breathtaking thing about Aemond.
Having less of a part than the others did not make him less human too.
Though he appeared more like a god. The fire from the fireplace casting a soft golden glow over both brothers, leaving them heated with pent up desires.
Aegon had already pummeled his cock back into you, not after witnessing the blood staining his length. Testament of your chasity staining him fully and his wanton for you only grew more. You pressed a little kiss to Aemondâs tip â watching him with your deer like purple eyes and he hissed, hand moving to interview with your silver strands.
Eventually you wrapped your lips around his head, slowly taking him deeper and deeper into your mouth while using your hand to stroke the rest which failed to fit. All while Aegon drove himself deeper inside your sweet, innocent cunt, drawing pathetic little whines out of you.
Aemond groaned, fingers tightening around your roots when the vibrations from your moans sent waves of electricity straight into his loins. You choked when he breached your throat, sputtering around him. Drool and cum glistening around your mouth. Your younger brother sighed pleasure, primary focus of his one eye.
âMessy little girl,â he taunted, the fluids dripping from your chin.
Aegon nestled his cock over and over into your sweet spot, urging you to reach your peak and unravel. âL-Look at her. So fucking obedient and pliant. I want to watch her stomach swell up with my babe. That way mother won't try to marry her off to someone else, some fucking riverrun lord.â
Aemondâs attention snapped to his brother's words, and Aegon only nodded. Letting him know that they were close to losing their sister but not anymore. The sweet dove was tainted, used and claimed. Even if their mother tried to marry her off, she was already tainted by her brothers and no lord would want her. That pleased both Aemond and Aegon.
âGods, what a blessing you are.â Aemond praised you, highly, palm pressing deeper on your head, encouraging you to take him deeper and you did. His head sliding into the confines of your tight, wet throat. âPerfect little girl, a cocksleeve.â
With each thrust from Aegon, your body moved forward against Aemondâs. A sweaty mess of pleasure and bodied you three were but that did not matter. Aegon felt his peak near, tethering onto it and soon he finished inside you after delivering harsh, potent stutters of hips into you. Your cunt tightened, sucking him in, like a vice.
âOh fuck,â he groaned. âLike that, little dove, take me in, all of me. Milk me fucking dry, let me breed you so you carry my silver haired children.â
Aemond didn't mind his brother having you first and defiling you, since he pretty sure had your throat first. You were theirs and that's all that mattered. Gagging sounds reverberated in the room along with strong sounds of skin slapping against skin. Your peak danced around too, and when Aemond fucked his cock harshly into your throat, you squeezed around Aegonâs cock and came all over. Tears splurging out, making a mess on your face.
Your whole body twitching from the intense climax. Thighs shaking and sensitivity heightened. Followed by your release, Aemond pursued. Release spurts of white into your mouth, spending fully inside you. Yet he did not unhand you, holding your head in place to fuck his hot load into your mouth.
Once he was done, he pulled out and grasped your chin, peeking inside. âSwallow it whole, Princess.â
And you did. Gulping down the remnants of his spend.
Your head, tired from being in one position, laid right on Aemondâs bare thigh. Aegon was still inside you and when he pulled out, he saw your gaping hole spurt out his white residual. Parts that failed to reach your womb but it did not matter. He would breed you over and over again until you were to end up with his child.
Or Aemondâs.
As long as it was a silver haired babe.
âA-Are you happy now?â You asked, a question for both of your brothers and Aemond nodded his head, running his slim fingers in your hair.
Aegon crawled upto you, laying next to Aemond. A subtle smile playing at his lips, eyes hooded and body weary from all the hard work. âVery happy, little dove. We could not have asked for a better sister.â
Your pale flushed skin reddened as Aemond moved you, bringing you closer to his chest and wrapping his arms around you. Aegon admired the two of you, pleased with the fucked up dynamics of his family. This was a pleasure he could not have found or ever would find in the bed of a whore. You were the apple of their eye and they could not let you go, even if it meant restoring to such methods.
Your hands cupped your younger brother's face, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips.
Aemond had expected it to be a gentle peck but it grew needy and hasty, exactly how Aegon had taught you. Your lips suckling on his like a babe, trying to pry his mouth open and meet your tongue with his. You seemed addicted, desperate to kiss your younger brother the same way you had kissed your older. The kiss grew heated as Aemond opened his lips, finally taking control and dominating your mouth.
You whimpered, and Aemond could taste the residual of his orgasm. It did not phase him as he continued relishing in the sweet kiss, feeling your cunt beginning to rut against his already hardening cock.
When you broke the kiss, Aemond admired you before shifting his attention to Aegon who had a nasty grin on his face. âYou're responsible for this.â
âProudly. Only had to teach her once and look at how she's already sucking on your lips like it's a fucking cock.â He cheered, reaching over to pinch your cheeks. You giggled and hugged your younger brother, resting your head in the crook of his neck.
The three of you did not leave your chambers that night while the whole of red keep searched endlessly for the sword, the King and the maiden.
#mimi writes â#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen x reader#aegon ii targaryen#aegon the second#aegon smut#aegon x reader#hotd aegon#aegon targaryen x reader#hotd#hotd s2#hotd aemond#hotd season 2#hotd fanfic#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen fanfiction#prince aegon targaryen#aemond one eye#tw dubcon#tw dubious consent#house targaryen#aemond x reader#aemond targaryen#aemond fanfiction#aemond x you#aegon x you
4K notes
¡
View notes
Text
The Parade Performer
Dpxdc Prompt #18
Every year Gotham hosts a parade where performers dress up as Gotham villains and go riding on a parade float around town while gothamites throw anything they can manage at them. These performers are paid an obscene amount for going through the abuse of every person living in Gotham. The more hated the villain the more the performers are paid, so obviously being the Joker pays the most.
Though, this doesn't matter much because every year the Joker kills the person that plays him during the parade.
So obviously Danny Fenton, a broke runaway that has already died once decides to be the Joker for the Gotham Villain's Parade.
Danny hates clowns.
Everyone in Gotham hates clowns, so he isn't special in that regard. No, he's special in that his hate for clowns does not stem from the Joker.
It's that specialty, along with the fact that he's used to people hating him his home town never really liked his protection, no matter how much they needed his help , and that he needs money to help him survive Gotham that has lead him to become a parade performer.
He joins a very short line of people who are desperate enough to dress as the worst Gotham has to offer.
He's the only one that's there for the role of the Joker.
All the people there look at him like he's a dead man walking.
He sits down and allows the makeup artist to turn him into an unrecognizable monster. She looks at Danny like she is stabbing a knife into his heartâwhich for all intents and purposes she is.
As he stares into the mirror he allows a change in his previous statement. He was turned into a monster for sure, but there was nothing unrecognizable about the man that had hurt every single person in Gotham City in some way.
He steps onto the float and prepares himself mentally. Whatever they say, whatever they do, they don't mean it about him. They are just taking out on him what they can't do to the man that has ruined so many lives.
Danny stands still as rotten tomatoes are thrown his way. He stands as still as a statue for all of the insults. The only time he moves is when knives and bullets rain upon him, he doesn't plan to die, not to misplaced anger.
He gets his money, it's enough that could last him into retirement. It doesn't matter too much as he is kidnapped 3 days later.
The Joker beats him with a crowbar, smashes all of his bones into pieces, and televises the whole event.
"This is what happens to those that mock me," he says, "There's only one Joker and that is me."
Danny knows he won't die, he doesn't have bones for the crowbar to break.
Red Hood doesn't know that. Jason Todd just sees a desperate kid that's about to get killed on live TV.
He loads his gun, find's the murderer that's haunted his dreams, his death, and his life. He shoots, no Bruce to stop him.
He picks up the kid and brings him to a safehouse. Jason is too late for the kid the same way Bruce was for him. He has no pulse, no breath entering his lungs. He deserves a peaceful resting place.
And then the kid's eyes open and Jason's world is turned upside down.
#dcxdp#dp x dc prompt#danny fenton#jason todd#the joker#queenie-prompts#this turned out darker than expected
1K notes
¡
View notes
Text
Fake Dating tropes with (some of) the birds and the bats. Ft. Babs, Bruce, Dick, Duke, Jason, Kate, and Tim.
GN!Reader, â200-250 words each CWs: None graphic mentions of sex, none-graphic injuries, none -graphic mentions of drugs, intentionally minipulative behaviours.đŠˇ
Barbara
The two of you werenât exactly not dating. Attached at the hip, making goo-goo eyes in person and inappropriate comments over the comms line when apart; it was obvious to anyone with eyes or ears that something was going on there, you just hadnât put a name on it yet. Itâs something the two of you had made plans to nail down and discuss during your sort of but not really a date-date tonight.
But you had only gone and got yourself shot during what should have been a simple trip to the bank. It wasnât life-threatening, but youâd been rushed off in an ambulance, youâd need surgery, a lot of meds, and months, if not years of physio to get your arms back into shape.
Barbara didnât know that at the time though, sheâd been panic-stricken from the moment she found out. Emotions getting the better of her, brain running at 100 miles a minute as she rushed to the hospital.
âPartners and family only.â The nurse had told her. And without hesitation, sheâd responded: âI am their partner.â
Her lie paid off, allowing her access to your bedside, as well as a full update on your status. There wasnât another face in any universe you would have rather seen upon waking up from surgery. Now you just had to keep up the appearance of being a married couple until you were discharged, maybe longer.
Bruce
Itâs a well-organised and thoroughly thought-out publicity stunt. Bruce needed someone new on his playboy roster, and you needed the media to circulate literally anything other than the less-than-flattering leaks that had been sold to them without your consent.
All you had to do was follow the itinerary. A couple of soft launch social media pics, a few whispers to the looser-lipped socialites of your circles, and some âprivateâ candid photo ops of the two of you dating:
Snuggling under the shade of an oak tree in Gotham Park, wearing matching caps and sunglasses that do little to hide your identities as you read a shared copy of Romeo and Juliet together.
Sitting in his car, in the parking lot of Big Belly Burger, munching on an unseemly large order of burgers and fries together. Nobody questions why the previously tinted windows of Bruceâs car are now clear.
Intimately and provocatively embracing, tastefully half nude on the balcony of your uptown apartment. The press didnât need to know that youâre actually renting an Airbnb for the weekend, for exactly this purpose, and nothing more.
Everything was carefully planned, right down to the T for maximum impact and minimal effort. The only thing that hadnât been accounted for was one, or both of you catching feelings in the time youâd spent together.
Dick
Heâs never been able to say no to you, you know it, he knows it. So when you ask him in an act of desperation to be your fake-boyfriend for your exâs wedding heâs quick to inform you that this is the dumbest idea heâs ever heard, and that heâs 110% on board.
He takes you shopping for matching outfits, picks you up on the day in Bruceâs flashiest car, suprises you with something pretty, compliments you loudly and romantically at every chance and wonât take his hands off you all the way through the ceremony. He's attentive and outwardly passionate. Not only is he playing the role of the world's best-ever (fake-)boyfriend, heâs making sure everyone in the vicinity knows youâre a (fake) couple.
Itâs during the reception when that funny feeling really starts to settle in. The hairs on edge, butterflies in your belly feeling. Maybe itâs the happy, romantic atmosphere, the soppy music, the way his hands sit so perfectly on your hips as he sways you round and around on the dance floor. Maybe itâs the way heâs looking at you with those mesmeric blue eyes but damn if you donât want to kiss him, right here, right now.
Duke
It was a stupid idea, and his family would give him so much shit if when they found out, but youâd argued that âweâll never know if it might actually work unless we tryâ and that had sold him on giving it a go. Even if he thought about calling it off at every turn.
What was the stupid plan, and why was it necessary? Well, your ex was dating his crush, and youâd figured fake-dating might redirect their attention to the two of you. And if not, no harm done, right?
Big harm done. Over the next few months, Duke and yourself had spent most of your free time in close proximity. Sharing clothes, food, and âplan-relatedâ intimate details about each other. When you werenât together you were glued to your phone, awaiting his texts, refreshing his socials.
Somewhere amongst all the dinner dates, and âstrictly-businessâ public making out sessions, your plan worked; his crush took notice, how could they not, Duke was perfect.
Your ex did not. Not that you cared, youâd moved on, to someone who was about to become equally as unavailable.
Jason
He was trying to infiltrate an infamous drug ring so he could take it down from the inside and needed someone in the know who could double as arm candy to sell his story. Youâd already been trying to get your foot in the door for weeks now, but lacked enough street cred for them to take a chance on you. It only made sense that you would join forces.
For a while itâs fun, hanging off his arm, letting his hands roam your body freely, loud-whispering all the things you wanted to do to him for anyone to hear. You really enjoyed pretending to be his devilish trophy partner. You enjoyed the nights where it wasnât pretend even more. But all good things must come to an end.
He served his purpose of getting you where you needed to be, but now he was getting a little too close to building a compelling case against the ring, you couldnât let that happen, you had much bigger plans for it.
What? Youâd promised information, not loyalty.
Kate
Youâre both socialites with fairly large internet followings who run in the same circles. Your relationship has always been that of friendly acquaintances until a photographer snaps an innocuous photo of you both entering the bathroom at the same time and the media goes crazy.
Despite putting out very clear, separate statements, clarifying that there is nothing going on, your respective followers grab the ball and sprint with it until you both innocently start to play along. Leaving flirty comments on each other selfies, acting appalled when the other is rumoured to be dating someone else, tagging each other in scenic snaps that could be considered romantic: graffiti hearts, colourful sunsets, starry skies from the candlelit table of a wine bar.
Itâs completely harmless of course, itâs all a joke, until itâs not. Until you actually find yourself flustered by her comments, really wishing she was sharing your dinners, until you brace yourself and send the first DM.
Tim
He really is the whole package. Handsome, hardworking, dedicated, polite, and as smart as he is rich. You can understand why your grandma was so excited, calling you from across the country to confirm if you were the mystery person spotted out and about with Bruce Wayneâs second youngest. You hadnât lied when youâd said yes, youâd just neglected to tell her that you were only friends. You figured it would get her off your back about finding a nice boy for a while. It kind of felt nice, talking to somebody other than yourself about your big fat crush on him and in your defence, you hadnât expected things to escalate so quickly.
One minute sheâs bragging about her grandchildâs new boyfriend to the ladies in her swim aerobics class, the next sheâs booked a flight to come and visit so she can meet him.
If youâd known what she was planning you would have confessed, but sheâd already forked out the cash for her plane ticket so you swallowed your pride and begged Tim to help. He wouldnât even have to do much, just spend the weekend nodding and smiling at an old womanâs stories and then he could reap the rewards of your eternal gratitude. Youâd promised 6 months of undisputed lording it over you and a lifetime of freshly made cold brew.
Smile and nod, thatâs all you expect, but apparently, that was too easy. Tim just had to make what was already an embarrassing situation, a million times worse. âPerfect grandson-in-lawâ, your ass.
#barbara gordon x reader#oracle x reader#bruce wayne x reader#batman x reader#dick Grayson x reader#nightwing x reader#duke thomas x reader#signal x reader#Jason Todd x reader#red hood x reader#kate kane x reader#batwoman x reader#tim drake x reader#red robin x reader#x reader#/reader#reader insert#gilverrwrites#dc#batfam#1k
1K notes
¡
View notes
Note
could you do a story where frontman is readers sugar daddy, please and thank you I â¤ď¸ your writing.
Luxury & Liesâ Hwang In-ho x Fem!Reader
summaryâ Being In-hoâs sugar baby came with luxuries beyond your wildest dreams. You never questioned where his wealth came from, only cared about what you could get out of him. But when you stumbled upon the truth, the Squid Game and the power he held as the Front Man, you knew exactly how to use it to your advantage. And In-ho? Heâd do anything to keep you.
warningsâ Sugar daddy!in-ho, manipulation, cunnilingus, body worship, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie, fluff.
a/nâ Thank you and enjoy <3
Youth and beauty on the outside was not eternal, that being said, you were always one to use it to your advantage.
It was by using those assets that caused you to stumble upon Hwang In-ho. He was an older yet very attractive man and obviously very wealthy. You knew how to play the game right and the night you had met In-ho, you were seated in the lounge area of an upscale restaurant that was famous for transactions like this.
He slipped into the seat next to you, decked in an expensive suit and as soon as you flipped your hair and tilted your head, he was sold.
You didnât have to say much, especially when it came to older men, you let him do the talking, you were just there to look pretty and get what you want. And you got way more than you bargained for being Hwang In-hoâs sugar baby.
In-ho always gave you what you wanted. That was the foundation of your arrangement. You asked, and he deliveredâno questions, no hesitations. It started with luxury handbags and designer clothes and shoes, then first class trips and five star hotels, and before you knew it, you had an entire apartment paid for in your name and a collection of jewelry that could make royalty jealous.
Being with In-ho meant being spoiled, but it also meant playing your role. You were his eye candy at every event, the one in his arm in dresses he picked out for you, flashing a smile that made investors and business partners envious. You liked the life you lived, liked the way people looked at you when you walked into a room together.
You never questioned how he could afford it all. What did it matter? You werenât with him for his morality, you were with him for what he could give you.
But then you found out.
It had been an accident, really. You were in his office at the penthouse, bored and nosy, and you stumbled across a locked drawer in his desk. He always kept things private, but this was different, the secrecy intrigued you. So you looked until you found the key, expecting maybe some business documents or an old affair he never wanted you to know about.
You didnât expect tapes.
Or the footage of people being slaughtered.
You sat frozen, watching clips from the so called Squid Game, men and women gunned down like animals, the screams piercing even through the speakers of his monitor. And there, in the midst of it all, was himâyour sugar daddy, the man who paid for your lifestyle, standing over it all in that black mask.
The Front Man.
The truth settled like ice in your veins, but strangely, you werenât horrified. You were curious.
For the first time since meeting In-ho, you had leverage.
So, you confronted him.
You remembered the way he looked at you when you brought it up. The sharp inhale. The slight flinch. He had tried to keep you in the dark for a reason, because, deep down, he feared this exact moment.
âYou werenât supposed to see that,â he said, voice carefully neutral.
âYeah?â You folded your arms. âWell, I did.â
A pause. A long, heavy silence. And then, a confession. He admitted everything. How long he had been in charge. What the games really were. The money, the power, the control.
âI understand if you donât want to be with me anymore,â he said eventually, looking down. âI wonât stop you.â
That was the moment you could have walked away. Should have, maybe. But you had no intention of leaving.
Instead, you put on a show, acted like you needed time, like you were shaken and unsure. Let him panic, let him compensate.
And, oh, did he compensate.
A brand new penthouse apartment, yours, fully paid for. A car, your dream model, delivered to your doorstep. Cash in your account, a credit card linked to his bank account. Jewelry, vacations, an all expenses paid trip with your homegirls on his private jet, all while he stayed behind, giving you space.
He only texted you once.
âLet me know when you're ready to talk.â
When you had everything you wanted, you decided it was time.
The night you returned, he was already waiting in your penthouse, standing by the windows with a glass of whiskey.
âYou look beautiful,â he said, scanning your outfit like he hadnât seen you in weeks, which he hadnât. âDid you have a good trip?â
âIt was perfect,â you said, slipping off your coat and letting it drop onto the couch. âThanks to you.â
He exhaled softly, nodding. âAnd are you ready to talk?â
âI am,â you said as you walked toward him slowly, heels clicking against the floor.
He tensed. You could see it in the way his fingers curled slightly against the glass, like he was bracing himself for the worst.
âYou kept a huge secret from me, In-ho,â you murmured, stopping just inches away. âThatâs not something I can just forgive overnight.â
âI know,â he said quietly. âAnd Iâm sorry. For all of it.â
âI bet you are.â You reached for his tie, giving it a gentle tug. âBut sorry isnât enough. You have to earn my trust again.â
His breathing hitched. âAnything,â he murmured, voice low. âJust tell me what I need to do.â
You smiled, slow and sultry. âGood,â you said, stepping backward toward the bedroom. âThen follow me.â And just like that, he did.
You led him across the penthouse, never looking back, because you didnât need to, you could feel his presence behind you, could feel the heat of his stare. By the time you reached the bedroom, you stopped at the edge of the bed, tilting your head just slightly over your shoulder.
He was watching you with hungry, dark eyes, scanning every inch of you. And then, you let yourself fall back against the silk sheets, stretching out, parting your legs to make your point.
His breath came uneven. âYouââ
âYou said youâd do anything,â you murmured, hooking a leg around his waist and pulling him closer. âShow me.â
Something inside him snapped.
He was on you in seconds, his hands gripping you, lips crashing against yours with a desperation you had never felt from him before. He wasnât just indulging youâhe was proving himself.
For the rest of the night, he did exactly that.
Because at the end of the day, you always got what you wanted.
The second In-ho had you beneath him, it was like something inside him broke loose. His hands were at your clothes in an instant, fabric tearing under his grip as he stripped you naked. The sound of ripping seams filled the air, followed by a sharp gasp from you as cool air met your skin.
âIn-hoââ
âShh, baby,â he murmured, dark eyes flickering over you like he was soaking up every inch to memory.
His lips were on you before you could respond, trailing hot, open mouthed kisses down your neck, across your collarbone, over your breasts. His lips were everywhere, like he was trying to worship and make it up to you.
Then he was lower, his mouth pressing against your stomach, his hands holding you steady as you squirmed.
âFuck,â you whimpered, breath catching.
âLook at you,â he groaned. âSo perfect. Always so goddamn perfect for me.â
And then, he had you unraveling.
The first stroke of his tongue against your pussy had your back arching, fingers twisting into the sheets as pleasure shot through you like lightning. He moaned against you, gripping your thighs to hold you still, but you couldnâtânot when he was devouring you like this, like he had been starved for you.
âYou taste so good,â he murmured against your pussy, pressing a kiss between every stroke of his tongue. âYou have no idea what you do to me.â
You barely heard him past the pleasure that built and built with every expert movement of his mouth. He was relentless, slow at first, savoring you, but when he felt you tense, when he heard the way you gasped his name, he tightened his grip and ravished you with ferocity that had your legs shaking.
âThatâs it,â he rasped. âCum for me, baby. Let me hear you.â
And when you finally came, when you cried out so loud you swore the whole city could hear, he only held you through it, kissing your thighs, whispering praises against your heated skin.
âYouâre a dream,â he breathed, pressing a lingering kiss just below your navel. âSo beautiful. So good for me.â
In-ho didnât stop. Even after you were left trembling beneath him, after your breath was still shaky and your body tingled from the aftershocks, he kept kissing you, soft presses of his lips against your skin.
âYou're everything,â he murmured between kisses, trailing from your chest to your lips. âMore than I deserve.â
The way you shivered when his fingers brushed your breasts, the way your breath hitched when he pressed a kiss just below your chest. He worshiped you, whispering apologies against your skin.
âForgive me,â he said, forehead resting against yours. âFor everything. For keeping things from you, for being selfish enough to want you despite it all.â
You cupped his face, brushing your thumbs over his cheekbones. âYou're not losing me,â you promised softly, and the way his eyes darkened told you he believed youâbut he needed to prove himself anyway.
His mouth found yours in a desperate kiss, hands gripping your hips as he pressed himself against you. You felt himâall of him, hard and heavy against your thigh.
Another thing about In-ho? He was the full package. The biggest youâd had, the biggest you probably ever would have, and he knew exactly how to use it.
He smirked at the way you swallowed hard, his hands skimming down your sides, teasing, making you wait.
âYou always act like such a brat,â he murmured, pressing open mouthed kisses to your neck. âLike you donât need me.â His hand wrapped around your thigh, pulling you flush against him. âBut then I get you like this, and you melt for me.â
âIn-ho,â you gasped, gripping his shoulders.
âShh, baby,â he murmured, dragging it out, making you feel every inch of his cock as he slowly pressed against your folds. âLet me take care of you.â
And when he finally gave in, when he finally stopped teasing and claimed you, it was deep, slow, possessive. He worshiped you, murmuring praises against your lips, against your skin. He filled you inch by inch, your pussy quivering around him.
âYou're perfect,â he groaned. âSuch a good girl for me.â
Your nails dug into his back, legs tightening around him as he pulled you closer, right on his dick. Every slow, deep stroke unraveled you, and he felt everything, the way you clung to him, the way you gasped his name like a prayer.
âThatâs it, baby,â he coaxed, pressing his forehead to yours. âGive it to me. Cum.â
And when you finally did, when you cried out and your body tensed beneath him, he held you through it, his own breath ragged, his grip tightening like he never wanted to let you go.
He didnât pull away right awayâjust kissed you through it, pressing soft kisses to your cheeks, your forehead, your lips. Soon, you felt the rush of his cum filling you up and his soft moans in your ear.
âMine,â he murmured against your skin. âYouâre mine.â
In-ho never just left you after. That wasnât who he was.
No matter how intense things got, no matter how desperate or needy, he always made sure to take care of you after.
Tonight was no different.
He pressed a kiss to your temple before slipping away, only to return moments later with a warm cloth. He handled you carefully, murmuring soft praises as he cleaned you up, whispering apologies when you flinched from sensitivity. His touch was steady, so unlike the man who ran the most brutal game in existence. With you, he was different.
âYou okay, baby?â he asked, running a hand down your thigh as he finished.
You nodded sleepily, reaching for him. âMhm.â
That was all he needed to hear. He tossed the cloth aside and pulled you into his arms, shifting until you were resting on his chest, his fingers tracing circles into your skin.
âIâll prove myself to you every day,â he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. âIâll always be here for you.â
You hummed in response, half asleep against him, but he knew you heard him.
That was something about In-ho, you knew this arrangement was transactional, but there was something deeply intimate in the way he held you after, in the way he needed to keep you close, like he was afraid youâd slip away in the night.
Even now, his grip on you was firm.
âYouâre so good to me,â you mumbled, fingertips skimming his jaw.
âYou deserve it,â he murmured, eyes half lidded as he looked down at you. âAnd more.â
He held you like that for the rest of the night, whispering sweet nothings, pressing lazy kisses to your hair. You didnât need to say it out loud, but you both knew, no matter how complicated things were, he wasnât letting you go.
#black reader#hwang in ho imagine#hwang in ho smut#hwang in ho x reader#hwang in ho#in ho squid game#in ho smut#in ho x reader#in ho#the front man x reader#front man x you#front man x reader#the front man#front man squid game#front man#the front man x you#the front man smut#squid game front man#squid game x fem!reader#squid game smut#squid game fanfic#squid game season 2#squid game#squid game s2#squid game x reader#in ho imagine#hwang in ho x y/n#player 001#young il#squid game imagine
428 notes
¡
View notes
Text
What will they say? | Steph Catley x McCabe!Reader
5k celebration prompt: âI donât care what they say, I want to be with you.â
Woso masterlist | Words: 1.5k
-----
To the world, Steph Catley was your best friend. To those close to you, Steph Catley was your girlfriend.
It had been easy to keep your relationship with Steph away from the public in the beginning. Only the people closest to you knew that the two of you were more than just best friends for the past year. Since you had already been best friends before getting together no one really questioned the two of you being close.
Recently though, more and more often you found yourself yearning to be closer to her when you were in public. When your hands would brush against hers, you wanted to reach out and intertwine your hands. When you got lost in her eyes, and on instinct you would lean in to kiss her, only to realise you were in public, and having to pull away like nothing had happened.
The internal struggle of what you wanted often messes with your head. Steph had been incredible. She has always been very understanding, she understood your reasoning, and always supported you. You felt so lucky with her by your side.
The reason you had wanted to keep your relationship outside of the public was because of your sister. Not Katie directly, she was very supportive of your relationship, and had been one of the first people you told about it. It was about the public's deception.
Ever since you were little, you had been compared to your older sister Katie. She only had two years on you, but every accomplishment you achieved with football, it always came with a mention of Katie.
While football had been something you had grown up playing together, a passion that started at a young age, everyone always saw it as wanting to copy her. Katie had for sure been a role model for you, because she was carving the path the two of you had dreamt of as little girls.
But because of those two years she had on you, she got everywhere just a step earlier than you. At first it was just parents of other kids from the club you were playing at, but as your careers grew, so did the audience that compared you to her.
It started on a much bigger scale when you made it to the senior squad for Ireland. Playing alongside Katie again like when you were younger. You loved being able to share your love for the game with her on the same pitch. But all the media seemed to focus on was how you were Katieâs little sister.
Katieâs little sister who made it to the team.
Katieâs little sister who made her debut.
Katieâs little sister who scored the game winning goal.
Katieâs little sister who made it into the starting line-up.
Being Katieâs little sister followed you everywhere. To the public it didnât seem to matter that you had started playing football the same year as each other. Katie was older, so you were always walking in her footsteps according to them.
Then on club level you were loaned out to Arsenal. While the fanbase had been amazing, the media started up again about you following your sister. Even when you had such an amazing season at Arsenal that they paid your transfer fee to have you on their team for real. They focussed on you wanting to be with Katie instead of the way you had performed for the club.
By now you were used to your career always being linked to Katie. What you didnât want was for them to also link your relationship to her.
The fans had been all over her relationship with Caitlin. An Arsenal teammate and Australian. When you started seeing Steph you knew that they would once again compare you to your sister. Dating an Arsenal teammate and Australian.
Falling for Steph had nothing to do with Katie, and you didnât want to give the public the opportunity to compare. You didnât want that for yourself, but definitely not for Steph. Steph knew of your struggles with the public comparing your career to Katie, and had always been there to support you.
Steph had always supported your decision, but there were moments where she would check what the limits were. What could they do and still have the public thinking they were just best friends. This time it might cross that limit though. Still she wanted to check with you.
She shifted closer, her voice laced with both hesitation and hope. âHow would you feel about being my date to Emâs wedding? I know itâs pretty out there to fly to Australia just for their wedding, but Iâd love to have you by my side.â
You loved the idea of being Stephâs date to something as romantic as a wedding, but your thoughts instantly went to what the public would think.
âIâd love nothing more,â you admitted, your words faltering as doubt crept in. âBut what will they say?â Stephâs expression softened, her hope shining through as she leaned closer. You start fidgeting with your ring, a nervous habit Steph knew well. âI donât care what they say,â she said softly, her hand covering yours to still your nervous movements. âI want to be with you. Itâs like you said the other dayâtheyâve taken enough already.â
You nodded slowly, tears pricking at your eyes. âYouâre right. Theyâve taken enough already." Steph gaze lingered on yours, the weight of her hope warming your cheeks. âIs that a yes?â
A small, trembling laugh escaped you as you wiped at your eyes. âYes, I will be your date to the wedding. Youâre right, they have taken enough already. I hate having to hide us. I want to be with you and I don't care about what they will say. As long as I have you by my side, they can say what they want.â
Steph's words stayed with you, giving you the courage to take the first step toward letting go of the fear that had followed you for so long. Agreeing to be her date to the wedding felt like a turning pointâan unspoken promise that you were ready to stop letting the publicâs perception dictate your happiness.
So when December came, you flew out to Melbourne with her to spend Christmas with her family, and be her date to Emilyâs wedding after that.
When your family shared their Christmas pictures online, speculation about your whereabouts started instantly. Katie had posted about going to Australia with Caitlin, but you had kept your plans in the dark. The speculations were starting to get to you, so you decided to not go onto your socials for the duration of your stay. Staying away from the internet and spending time with your loved ones was exactly what you needed.
Without your knowledge, the speculation had kept going. It wasnât until everyone that attended the wedding started posting pictures and videos of the wedding that the speculations stopped. You and Steph were in them, whether it was in the background or foreground. You and Steph, as well as everyone else there, had given the all clear to post whatever pictures you wanted.
On your trip, you and Steph had a deep conversation about what you wanted. Resulting in no longer wanting to hide your relationship. Neither one of you felt the need to address your relationship to the public, but you werenât going to hold back any parts of it anymore.
It had started with letting everyone know that they could post whatever pictures the two of you were in from the wedding, and you even dedicated a post about it yourself.
Steph sat with you on the couch as you got your post ready. An encouraging hand on your leg, with her thumb rubbing soft strokes over it. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest, as your finger lingered above the post button.
Your eyes connected with Stephâs. She could see your nerves in them, so she turned her hand around and waited for you to lay your hand in hers. âWhenever youâre ready.â She said with a soft squeeze to your hand.
Her reassurance was all you needed to lower your thumb and press send. You nervously watched your phone for the response.
Fans were quick to see the post for what it was and your comments started flooding with their excitement for another woso couple, as well as your friends, family and teammates sending their love your way.
You smiled at all of the positivity, and knew that with their support it wouldnât matter what the journalists would make of it. Their love, and most importantly Stephâs, was all that you needed.
-----
y/n_y/l/n just posted
y/n_y/l/n: what a beautiful day to celebrate the Van Egmonds đ¤đ
Load more comments
katie_mccabe11: My sister đĽđĽ
wosofan1: aah I knew it!! Did we give them a shipname already?
stephcatley: â¤ď¸
wosofan2: you're seeing what i'm seeing right??
âł wosofan3: HARD LAUNCH SEASON
laurynmccabe11: Looking good!!
alannakennedy: I swear I was on that couch too
âł caitlinfoord: Me too
âł alannakennedy: at least you made the post
âł mackenziearnold: ha suckers!
deniseosullivan10: đđ
sharonmccabe12373: My girls â¤ď¸
-----
đ If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip đ
#pockets 5k celebration#steph catley#steph catley x reader#arsenal wfc#arsenal wfc x reader#arsenal women#awfc#awfc x reader#woso#woso x reader#matildas x reader#auswnt x reader
440 notes
¡
View notes
Text
What's up with the Reizners (Kolya & Nikita)?
Better late than never: the loredump on Nikita and Kolya Reizner is finally here!
If you read my blog, you may already know some of this information. But it's always nice to have things organised.
So let's talk about them.
Childhood
Nikita and Kolya as kids.
Nikita and Kolya grew up in a small countryside town, with Nikita being older by three years. Their mother was a nurse, their father a factory worker.
Nikita was always positioned as an example for Kolya: he was the smarter one, the one that knew how to get along with people, the one that could stand up for himself. Kolya, on the other hand, was absent-minded, meek, and showed little interest in communicating with others.
This made him an easy target for bullying. Sometimes Nikita tried to ignore it, sometimes he stood up for him. Kolya would have preferred if he stuck to the former - having his brother defend and then scold him for not being assertive enough was more degrading than being picked on.
University
Kolya always enjoyed tinkering with electronics, so he went for an electrician degree. He wasnât an exceptional student, but he enjoyed it significantly more than school. People didnât bother him nearly as much.
Nikita enrolled in the biology department of a pedagogical university. He worked hard to get rid of his countryside accent and blend in with the more âeducatedâ crowd.
He joined the admission committee after his first year, which is how he met Nadya: she was applying to the philology department of the university. Their relationship began shortly after.
Joining the stalker business
Kolya wanted an escape from society more than anything. And the anomalous Zone outside the city called to him, insistently so.
It was a time when the border was significantly less tight, when big stalker groups were still prevalent, but already on their way out. He met Victor Kazarin in one such group. The latter was still a young stalker, with only a couple of years behind his belt.
Still, under his guidance, Kolyaâs abilities developed incredibly fast - he was a total natural. And it wasn't just his sharp talent, it was the way he walked the Zone, the way he loved it with all of his heart.
Experiencing a sense of freedom and levity isn't uncommon for stalkers. But to Kolya it went far beyond that. To him, it felt more real than anything else in the world, it was the only place that felt truly alive.
When Nikita found out about Kolyaâs side gig, he was mortified. How could his slow, empty-headed brother survive in those conditions? How could he ever navigate that dark criminal business? He had to keep an eye on him.
After realising he cannot talk Kolya out of it, Nikita joined the same group. He never developed a strong sense for the Zoneâs anomalies, but his biological knowledge paid off in a major way. Despite not having a medical degree, he knew more than enough to take on the rare doctor role.
After finding somewhere he finally felt complete, Kolya was once again treated as a clueless, incompetent child.
When the big group was showing signs of deterioration, Victor offered the brothers and several other stalkers to leave and form a smaller, more tightly-knit team. His connections from working in the militia (local police) created a solid basis for finding potential clients and covering things up.
Nikita's arrest
Maybe somebody snitched, maybe Kolyaâs behaviour raised suspicion among his day job coworkers - whatever the reason, his house was searched and numerous artefacts were found.
But what would someone as soft and careless as him do in prison? Somebody as naive and weak could never last there, Nikita thought.
So he did what he had to: acted like the artefacts found in the younger brotherâs apartment were his and then aggressively resisted arrest - just for good measure. Hell, maybe he would have managed to get away.
But he didnât. As opposed to other stalkers having their scars bestowed by the Zone, the one on his neck was the result of a police confrontation. Nikita did not expect them to open fire when he ran. He was surprised he lived at all - the bullet grazed uncomfortably close to the carotid artery. He lucked out.
Kolya had never felt that insulted. He tried to come clean about being the real culprit. But Nikita knew how to be convincing; Kolya didn't. And Kolya felt no gratitude.Â
Breakup with Nadya
The breakup in the Mill.
Nikita was given 4 years in prison, but got parole after serving just 2. He immediately returned to helping injured stalkers.
Nadya waited for him through all his prison years. Considering how their relationship was going, some part of Nikita secretly hoped she wouldn't. She was a very self-conscious person, one that was infatuated with someone who seemed so much more confident than her. To the point where she felt like without his guidance, sheâd be completely lost, and useless, and stupid.
Nikita both liked it and didnât. Who wouldnât enjoy a beautiful girl obsessing over them? But dealing with all of that baggage was inconvenient, it was tiring. Was it even worth it? Sometimes he wasnât sure.
Still, things looked sweet on his release. Everyone, Kolya included, seemed glad to have him back.
Then, several months later, Nadya announced she was pregnant.
Nikita didn't want a child, especially not one that would have an almost guaranteed mutation. He proposed an abortion, but the woman refused. His reasoning that she usually took as gospel did not work. And no matter how much Nadya cried or pleaded with him, no matter how much she tried to convince him it would be okay, Nikita refused to take that burden upon himself.Â
There was no easy compromise. He left.
Kolya didn't have much of an opinion about Nadya. He didn't have much of an opinion about most people. And really, he didn't feel particularly bad for her.
However, hearing about what had happened made him repulsed in a quite satisfying way. The brother that always knew best, the brother that was so condescendingly self-sacrificing, had finally levelled himself with the rest of the earth's scum.
Months later Nikita would seek out the maternity hospital Nadya gave birth in. He wasn't registered as the father - he could not access any information about her. He couldn't contact her himself either.
Her acquaintances refused to talk with him. But eventually, one of them caved.
Nadya was pregnant with twins. Died while giving birth. The offspring was transferred directly to the institute. And that was it.
Raising Sergei and Sasha
It was a dumb death. A misstep. Kolya wasnât sure what he felt when he saw Victorâs body turn to mush. It was so instant and so simple. Natural. Kolyaâs breath halted, but just momentarily.
They had a plan prepared long in advance in case something like this would come to pass. Sending Sasha and Sergei to the orphanage was not an option, everyone had been well aware of the state of those systems. Instead, Victor Kazarin would live on, if only on paper.
They held a funeral of sorts: to onlookers, it was just an uncharacteristically big visit to the grave of Maria Kazarina. That was where Kolya informed Sergei about the plan. Him and Nikita would help raise the siblings until Sergei turned 18 and could become his sisterâs legal guardian. Of course, theyâd help him afterwards as well.
Kolya and Nikita raising Sergei and Sasha.
Sasha was fascinating to Kolya in a âchild of the Zoneâ way, but he wasnât very interested in her on a personal level. To her, he was the strange spaced out uncle that had cool electronics around the house and took pictures of her and Sergei. He also played the guitar like her dad used to.
Kolya and Sergei had a lot more to talk about. Kolyaâs calm demeanour helped Sergei feel more at ease despite the terrible circumstances. Even with his ditzy nature, Kolya provided a certain sense of security and comfort. Kolya always considered Sergei a good kid, though he did believe his treatment of Sasha was too overbearing, especially considering his own relationship with Nikita.
The latter, on the other hand, was much closer to the girl. She liked to play with Nikita even before her fatherâs death, so the adoptive uncle role came to him naturally. Sasha grew very attached to him, especially since he was significantly easier to talk to than Sergei. Nikita, in turn, was happy to have Sasha around.
The Grinder incident
The group heading out to the mission in the Mill.
Beyond the Grinder lies the wishing room. At least, thatâs what they say. Itâs a rumour impossible to confirm or disprove. Can you really pass the whole stretch of the tunnel before your legs, your arms, your face, your whole body disintegrates? You donât know. Do you want to find out? Probably not.
The natural human instinct for survival can only be superseded by total desperation â or apathy in equal measure. Did Kolya have enough of any? Neither Sergei, nor Olya knew. They didnât know why he had to enter the Grinder, either. Was that what he had wanted from the start? When was âthe startâ? Maybe it didnât matter.
They could not follow him. And that alone was good. Â
475 notes
¡
View notes
Text
Novice - JJK (18+)
Pairing: Pornstar!Jungkook X Fem!Reader
Theme: PWP (porn with tiny plot), SMUT, pornstar au
Wordcount: 3k
Summary: The need of some extra money lands you on a weird job. But you are not complaining, not when you get to fuck Jeon Jungkook.
Warnings: Explicit sex, porn movie shooting, mentions of pros**tution, Jungkook is a smooth flirt, reader is nervous and shy, inexperienced reader, a little bit of flirting, missionary position, unprotected sex. NSFW!!
Minors are not allowed in this blog!!
Read the sequel: We Need Practice
Honestly, you have no idea what you are doing here.Â
You have been zoning out for the past ten minutes.Â
Keeping your focus trained on whatâs waiting for you ahead is a little tough. Especially when itâs 2 degree celsius outside and you are wearing nothing but a thin camisole and flimsy underwear.Â
Even though the heater is in full blast, you require to have some clothes on your body to enjoy whatever warmth it has been offering.Â
You question your sanity once again. Are you really doing this? You out of all people? You - the goodie two shoes?Â
Yeah, the situation has been like that lately.Â
You are in need of some extra money because some fucker voiced-phised you and you, being dumber than ever, gave them your company card number and pin. Now you owe 200 million won to your company and you donât even have 10% of the amount to do anything about it.Â
Right at that time, one of your friends knocked on your door asking for a favor.Â
âPlease, Y/N! You are perfect for the role!â she pleaded.Â
âWhat are you even saying? I donât even have any experience-âÂ
âThatâs exactly what we want - a novice.âÂ
And you landed on the deal or role or whatever the fuck it is, in an exchange of 250 million won. By the way, did I mention that they have paid you 50% of the amount already? Â
Itâs good money and a one-time opportunity. All you need to do is to get fucked on camera, get the pay and avoid showing your face around this place anymore.Â
As simple as that.
Or as simple as you thought.Â
But now that you are already at the set and ready to feature in a porn movie.. You are rather nervous.Â
Even though they assured you and added the âblurred-faceâ term to your contract, itâs nerve-wracking and for multiple reasons.Â
First, you have almost zero experience of sex. And must I mention that you never had an orgasm in your entire life?Â
Second, the concept of the film is complicated. There is only one male lead but three female leads (including you). But itâs not poly. The guy plays the role of a male prostitute, who pleasures three different women with three different stages of experience. The first woman is a pro, second one is amateur and third one, you, is a novice.Â
The first shoot was almost over when you arrived at the set and the cast went to prepare for the second shoot. Hence, you havenât gotten to see the guy you would be having sex with.Â
And itâs unsettling.Â
You only heard his name but couldnât muster up the courage to search him up. What if you donât like his face and back off? You will have to repay the 50% of the advance along with a 5% of contract violation fee. And you certainly canât afford to do that now.Â
So you held on, arrived at the studio as per instructions, got your clothes and hair done and now you are waiting for them to call you outside.Â
âMs. Y/N?â A voice calls you from the door and breaks your reverie. âLetâs goâ the staff smiles.Â
You stand up and follow her outside the green room.Â
As you approach the main shooting set all you hear is, well, moans and groans. And those get louder and louder with each passing second.Â
âSit here.â the staff says. âYou can observe what they are doing and prepare yourself in the meantime. Weâll brief you on the scenes once they are done.â she places a reassuring hand on your shoulder.Â
Too bad, âcause you are anything but reassured now.Â
âSo this is how you like to be fucked? Like the bitch that you are? You slut!â the groan of the man invades each of your senses and you are shocked to say the least.Â
Is this how you are going to be treated here? You think to yourself. A shiver runs down your body when the sound of a sharp slap echoes inside the almost calm studio. Then another, then another. But the woman seems to enjoy it all. Her moans and whines keep getting louder.Â
You find your throat closing up with fear. Will you be able to enjoy it too? Or will you fuck things up? Â
You suddenly feel hot and sticky right between your legs. What the fuck? Are you really getting wet? Just with the sounds?Â
Squeezing your eyes shut you try to think of all the things you can do with the extra 50 million won.Â
âGreat work, guys!â a loud cheer and sound of applause halt your activities. You open your eyes to measure the surroundings.Â
First you see the female lead coming out of the set with a cloth wrapped all around herself. She disappears with her assistant within seconds, even before you could see her face.Â
Then the man walks out, wearing almost nothing.Â
A towel is wrapped loosely around his torso and his bare body is on full view for you to enjoy.Â
You gulp.Â
The man is chugging down water as if he has been wandering in deserts for years. Your eyes fall on his Adam's apple at first, then on his glistening collarbones, his built chest, his toned abs, small waist and then on his torso.Â
Your anticipation makes you gulp again.Â
When you finally manage to drag your eyes up, you see him already staring and smirking at you.Â
And fuck! You choke on your own spit because you have never seen a more handsome man in your life.Â
Initially you thought Jeon Jungkook would be a pervert-looking middle aged ajussi but this guy looks like he is your age.Â
Your friends would actually pay to get fucked by a guy this hot. But you are getting it all for free? Mustâve saved your country in past life or something.Â
When Jungkook winks at you, you realize you have been staring at him for too long. And now you feel embarrassed.Â
Lord! What have you been doing!Â
âThatâs it. I hope you have understood, Ms. Y/N?â The director peeks at you expectantly.Â
âI guess.. So.â You reply with a lot of doubts still playing in your mind.Â
âThere is nothing to be nervous of,Y/N. We are not gonna send this movie to the Oscars, so you donât have to think too much about your acting. Just do the bare minimum. Do what you are told. Jungkook will take care of the rest.â He gives you a kind smile.Â
You nod, reminding yourself that you need money and this is the only way.Â
âYou guys will blur my face right?â you ask him with a low voice.Â
âWe will. You can sue us if we donât.â he chuckles.Â
You feel your nervousness and fears subsiding a bit⌠only to reach the peak in seconds.Â
âHyung, are we good to go?â Jungkook appears from one of the green rooms, wearing his casual outfit - a white t-shirt with loose jeans.Â
He smiles down at you and you struggle to return his courtesy.Â
âYeah, we are almost done here. Take care of Ms. Y/N, Jeon. She is very nervous.â the director gestures Jungkook to sit beside you.Â
Jungkook sits down with a respectable distance between you two and takes a tentative look at you before saying, âhyung, we have some time before the shoot starts right?âÂ
The director nods a yes.Â
âThen.. let me talk to Y/N for a bit.âÂ
âYeah sure, go ahead.âÂ
And they leave you alone with your co-star.Â
âHey.â Jungkook says sweetly once you are alone in the makeshift secluded space.Â
âHi.â you reply with a quiet trembling of a voice.
Jungkook chuckles at that.Â
âCute.â you hear him murmuring under his breath.Â
âThis is your first time, I guess?â He asks.Â
âYeah and the last time as well.â you reply urgently, avoiding meeting his eyes as much as possible.Â
His eyes widen at your response, âwhy so?âÂ
âI just need some extra money. So you know.. Itâs a one time thing for me.âÂ
âOh..â Jungkook breathes out and then says, âthen I will make sure itâs something you remember your entire life. I know you donât have much experience but I wonât push you to do something crazy. I will be gentle, donât worry. Just leave yourself up to me, relax and enjoy.â with that he rests one of his hands on top of yours and gives you a sickeningly sweet smile.Â
Now you donât know how you are supposed to stay calm when your co-starâs mere presence is this nerve-wrecking.Â
âOkay. Cutâ the director screams as you and Jungkook complete shooting the non-sexual scenes.Â
âYou are pretty good, you know?â Jungkook slides beside you as you stand there preparing yourself for the big thing ahead.Â
âAh. thanks. You are very impressive as well. I mean three times in a row is no joke. Arenât you tired?â you reply, finally staring into his eyes.Â
Jungkookâs big doe, beautiful eyes almost defy the fact that he is in this business. Almost because once your eyes move lower on his body, youâll have to admit that this is certainly his place to shine.Â
âI have a record of six times in a day, sweetie.â he smirks at you while winking at the same time. Your stomach flips involuntarily.Â
âJungkook, Y/N, are you ready?â The director screams from his seat.Â
Jungkook raises his thumb to affirm him and then he looks back at you.Â
âAs I said Y/N, donât be nervous. I will take good care of you, okay?â Jungkook holds your hand again.Â
His sincere tone really melts your heart.Â
You nod, âokay.â
You donât know how things will turn around but you are determined to enjoy it. You will not be seeing Jungkook anymore, anyway. So, why not take the advantage?Â
âAction!â the director screams.Â
When you look at Jungkook again, his doe eyes have turned dark.Â
From now on, you donât have any dialogue. Itâs only Jungkook who will do the talking, you will have to say yes or no as a response.Â
âSo, you want me to fuck your virgin cunt because you are a bad bad girl. Is that right?â Jungkook speaks in a sultry low voice.Â
Your head starts spinning.Â
âYes.â you reply.Â
He takes a step towards you as you take a step back.Â
âOh. you got a voice I see.â Jungkook steps towards you again.Â
You know he is just acting but you canât help but feel a burning sensation in your stomach. When you take another step back, your thighs come in contact with the bed.Â
He pushes on your shoulder gently, making you sit down.Â
âThen.. let me take care of you.â Jungkook says while sinking down on his knees.Â
He takes one of your feet in his hand and kisses on top of it. When his mouth wraps around your big toe, your breath hitches.Â
Were your feet always this sensitive?Â
He sucks on your big toe briefly, making it tough for you to breathe normally.Â
âDo you like it?â he asks, looking up at you, lips still close to your foot.Â
âYes.â you mutter.
âGood girl.â
Jungkook places a kiss on your ankle next, then on your knee. His other hand kneads on your other thigh gently.Â
His mouth reaches to your inner thigh and hovers above your skin for a brief second. Then he kisses down, pulling out a moan from your throat.Â
âLay down for me.â he requests and you oblige.Â
Jungkookâs fingers hook on the waistband of your panty and he slowly pulls that down revealing your glossy slit to not only him but to the entire crew.Â
But surprisingly you are not self conscious. Jungkook has somehow made it feel like itâs only about the two of you. And you like it that way.Â
âSo prettyâ he whispers, as if talking to your cunt.Â
His actions make you leak even more. You suck in a deep breath when you see him, lowering his face down to your pussy.Â
He places a soft kiss on your folds at first and then licks a stripe along it.Â
Latching his lips around your clit, he sucks on it. You lose your senses with that. Some incoherent words fly out of your mouth but you know you are not really making sense to anyone, not even yourself.Â
He keeps performing his ministrations, licking, sucking and occasionally biting down on your clit.Â
This is the very first time someone has their mouth on your cunt and you never thought it would feel this good.Â
âUmm.. you taste so good, sweetie.â Jungkook mumbles on your clit.Â
His tongue probes into your entrance, lapping up all the juices that you leak.Â
You grab the sheets to find something to distract the overpowering pleasure that Jungkook has been providing you with.Â
Your knees buckle, caging Jungkook between your legs.Â
Soon you feel something akin to a finger pressing down on your clit, then drawing slow circles around it, and then the circles are fast.
Your eyes roll back and your throat produces some sounds you never knew you could make.Â
âFuck! So tight. I have never fucked a pussy tighter than thisâ Jungkook groans and it vibrates your folds.Â
When he pokes into your entrance again, while circling your clit, you find something coiling in your lower abdomen. Something so strong that you canât contain it anymore.Â
And you have it. The very first orgasm of your life.Â
Your juices drain Jungkookâs mouth and chin.Â
âFuck, sweetie!â Jungkook stands up, âlook what have you done?â he says while climbing on the bed.Â
He grabs your camisole and tears it in an instant.Â
Even though you are in your post-oragsm glory, it shocks you regardless. You hear mumbles coming outside the set but then the director seems to say something that shuts everyone up.Â
As soon as your tits are on display, Jungkook grabs both of those with both of his hands.Â
He kneads the muscles while his mouth latches to your neck.Â
There is so much happening at the same time that you donât know what to focus on.
Jungkookâs kisses drop down to your collarbone, bruising your skin and then to your tits. He wraps his pretty lips around your perked nipples, suckling those as if his life depends on it.Â
Your moans know no bounds. And you already feel heat building up in your stomach again.Â
You leave the sheets and grab Jungkook's hair instead. He groans in pleasure.Â
âYou are driving me fucking crazy, sweetie!â Jungkook manages to say, âdo you think you can take my cock now?âÂ
âYes.â you say desperately.Â
You are actually very desperate to have him inside you already.Â
Jungkook climbs down the bed and starts stripping. You stare at him as if he is the best mountain view in the world.Â
Your eyes widen upon seeing his cock and your first thought is if it will fit or not.Â
âDonât worry. I will make it fit.â Jungkook replies as if reading your mind.Â
He then comes closer to you and lines his cock on your entrance. Putting his lips on yours he pushes his length in.Â
A loud earth-shattering moan comes out of your mouth, which Jungkook swallows immediately.Â
He grabs one of your thighs and wraps your leg around his torso, your other leg follows the suit. He takes the chance to accommodate his cock inside your hole comfortably. And once he is sure you have adjusted, he starts moving.Â
At first he is slow but then he starts picking up his pace.Â
âDoes it hurt?â Jungkook mumbles in your mouth, not ceasing to kiss you all while.Â
âNo. It feels good.â you spill the truth.Â
Jungkook groans at your response, emptying you for a second only to thrust his full length inside you harshly. Â
You whine.
He pins your wrists above your head and stares at you while fucking you dumb. His eyes are so dark that they demand you to keep staring back at them.Â
The skin slapping sound makes your head spin and the coil in your stomach starts getting loose.Â
âI-I am cum-â and before you could finish your sentence, you cum.Â
It Triggers Jungkookâs own orgasm. He pulls out your cock from your hole, pumps it twice and then spills his cum all over your body.Â
And all you could do is to stare at him dumbly with your mouth ajar.Â
âThat was so unlike you, Jungkook.â you hear the director talking to your co-star.Â
Even though you donât want to eavesdrop, you want to know what was not like him.Â
âI know, hyung. For the first time ever in my career I lost control.â he sighs âY/N was⌠something else.âÂ
Your face grows hot with the complement. But you know you are not going to see him again so itâs better not to think too much about it.Â
You grab your bag and head towards the exit, stopping to greet everyone on your way out.Â
âHeyâ you greet him with a small voice.Â
Jungkook gives you a big toothy grin in return.Â
âAre you leaving already?â he asks, staring at your bag.
âYes. I- um. Thanks, Jungkook. I really enjoyed it.â You tell him sincerely.Â
âMy pleasure, Y/N. And honestly, I think I enjoyed you a little too much as well.â he replies scratching the back of his neck. The tips of his ears turn pink.Â
You giggle.Â
âThatâs great. So⌠yeah. Thatâs it. I will take my leave now. Byeâ waving your hands, you turn your heels to leave.Â
âY/N?â but his voice stops you.Â
âYeah?âÂ
âMaybe if you donât mind⌠Can we exchange numbers?â Â
âUmm.. maybe we can do that.âÂ
Maybe this deal has more than just money to offer.Â
Taglist:
@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae @i-have-no-life-charlie
#bts smut#jungkook smut#bts x reader#jungkook x reader#bts fanfiction#jungkook fanfic#bts x you#jungkook x you#jungkook scenarios#jeon jungkook#bts jungkook#bts#bts oneshot
3K notes
¡
View notes
Text
One thing I found wonderful about Neve, aside from literally everything about her of course, was how she subverted our expectations about mages from Tevinter and provided an excellent and nuanced view into facets of how Tevinterâs class system works in practice.
In prior games, most of what we learn of Tevinter is hearsay from Southerners who arenât fans. We are told by these sources little of true detail, other than broad explanations of the Imperiumâs class system and that they are a mage oligarchy. Oh, and that the south think theyâre all evil blood mages.
The times weâve interacted with mages from Tevinter at all, theyâve come primarily from the Altus class, like Dorian. Those from another class were acknowledged in Inquisition, Calpernia being a good example, but largely if we were interacting with a Tevinter mage, they were an Altus citizen of the Imperium. These are the elites, right? They play an important role in Tevinter society - indeed Tevinterâs society is formed around them - but they really arenât exemplars of it because although they wield a lot of power they are by far outnumbered by people from other classes.
Enter Neve. Not born into an Altus family, not born into a mage family at all, she grew up Soporati class and by all accounts not well off, until her magic showed up and she was elevated to Laetan class. Dorian tells us that part of how the Magisterium keeps the many, many non-Altus inhabitants of the Imperium in line is that thereâs always that hope that a mage will be born in the family. It opens up the opportunity to join the Laetan class, opens up better marriage prospects, opens up jobs in the bureaucracyâŚ.
But the flip side of that, we learn through Neve, is that those Laetan mages who fulfill that hope for their family of being born with magic can be just as damaged by that elevation as they are benefitted by it. Being Laetan doesnât make someone rich, it just means they might have access to certain jobs (ones Dorian scoffs at) they otherwise wouldnât. And they can attend the Circles of Magi, which guarantees them an education. Theyâre still poor, sometimes, or maybe middle class bureaucrats, theyâre still looked down on by Altus mages. Still denied meaningful access to that privileged class. But marginally better off than the Soporati. Neveâs relatives try to use her new status to their advantage, all the same, other than a single uncle she speaks well of.
Compare this to a Shadow Dragon Rook. The game tells us SD Rook is adopted into a military family. That means that, unless you headcanon one of their parents as a mage, the Mercar family are Soporati (Liberati and slaves cannot serve in the Imperiumâs army). One relative of SD Rook is a high-ranking officer, though which relative is headcanon specific. In practical terms, speaking only financially, SD Rook likely grew up better off than Neve did. Even though sheâs a mage and even if SD Rook isnât. If Legate Mercar is Rookâs father, SD Rook was likely Significantly better off financially growing up.
Service in the Imperiumâs army is one of the few stable, arguably decently paid jobs in the Imperium other than working in the civilian government (like the Templars) for Soporati. Thatâs its whole appeal.
So through Neve, we get insight into how the class system works in practice in this nation weâve been taught over and over in prior games prioritizes and elevates mages. And what weâve heard isâŚkind of true, in broad strokes. But itâs not the whole picture. She challenges a lot of what we thought we knew. And I think itâs awesome that through Neve we get to see that nuance.
* Now, I haveâŚso much to say about how I personally conceive of the Imperiumâs military and its pay, none of it canon although informed by it, because I am a nerd, but this is all just from in-game information.
#datv#dav#dragon age veilguard#neve gallus#nerding out on Tevinter#look we all need hobbies#analysis of the Tevinter Imperium is apparently one of mine
365 notes
¡
View notes
Text
TAKE A BITE
- your best friends challenge you to bring the hottest guy at the bar home, and you canât manage to say no. (jake âhangmanâ seresin x fem!reader, random original female characters for plot purposes, â ď¸ alcohol, 18+!! adult content, p in v, jake being a sweetheart for once, IâM BEGGING PLEASE BE 18)
word count: 3,033
a/n - dipping my toe into the adult writing scene for once đ i have no idea if this is good or not bc my only experience is one commission i did a long time ago and a half-finished fic from a year ago, so i hope itâs satisfactory. jake is also an unexpected visitor but everyone has their moments <3
âSoâŚâ Kaiya drawls, drawing along the rim of her condensation-covered glass, âbecause no one here seems to want to put themselves out there,â thereâs a pointed glance at you, âI propose a challenge.â
Sandy squints at her suspiciously. Kaiya always comes up with the most outrageous schemes, usually drawing in you and the rest of your friend group. âWhat are you thinking?â She asks.
Kaiyaâs manicured nail taps on the table. âWe each pick a guy, one that individual thinks is the hottest at the barâ first come first serve, of course. And then we take them home. Anyone thatâs successful gets next weekâs drinks paid for by the rest of us.â
You roll your eyes. Sheâs a looker, for sure, which is likely the only reason she proposed something like this. She could get with any guy in a hundred mile radius with her luscious black curls and babydoll cheeks. âAre you sure you arenât just doing this because you donât want to pay for yourself?â
Kaiya puts one hand to her mouth, eyes widened in comical horror. âI would never! I just want whatâs best for my dear friends.â She exclaims, batting her eyes. Sandy laughs in her own charming way. Sandy is cute, sweet. Sheâd also have no problem taking her pick.
âI want that one.â Kaiya says, pointing at a tall man with shortly cropped curls. From the looks of it, heâs exactly her type; confident, quick-witted, and evidently skilled as he nails a dart throw.
Sandy pretends to squint around the bar before throwing a thumb over her freckled shoulder. âBuzz cut. I like that in a man.â You peer around her, taking in a nice-looking guy with tanned skin.
âAnd you?â Kaiya asks, reaching out to thumb at the strap of your top. Her small look of concern makes you remember why youâre her friend in the first place.
Sheâs always looking out for you, always finding opportunities for you to shine when she is so obviously the star. After you broke up with your boyfriend for some unsavory reasons, she resumed her role as your rock. Even now, she wants you to get over whatâs in the past. You curse yourself for even considering that she was being selfish.
You look around the crowded bar, eyes scanning over heaps of mildly attractive Navy and civilian men. Youâre about to just pick the closest one before your gaze stops on a person who almost immediately takes your breath away. Heâs exactly, exactly what you pictured your dream guy to look like.
Kaiya follows your line of sight and smiles. âLetâs get them, tigers.â
âAlright,â You say, standing as your chair creaks from under you, âIâll take a bite.â
You lean against the cool counter of the bar, smiling at the bartender. The man you picked out has a beer in his hand and a certain swagger in how he scopes out the room. âCould I have one of those, please?â You ask the woman behind the bar, looking pointedly at the guy. She looks at you with a knowing smile, handing you the drink.
âYou have good taste.â Your pick says, his voice heavy with a drawl. His green eyes glance down at the drink in your hand, then up to your face. You swear you almost see him lick his lips.
âSo do you.â You respond simply. âWhatâs your name?â
âJake, but if one of those idiots asks, itâs Hangman.â He nods over to a group of men by the pool table. In a passing flash, you notice the two your friends picked out mingling. How could this one squad have so many attractive people? âI saw you with your friends a bit ago. I have to say, though, youâre more my type. Not that they arenât nice girls.â
You take a sip of your drink, eyebrows quirked. His arms are basically bulging out of his Navy attire, and you struggle to keep your eyes off of them. Decidedly, you try teasing him, pushing the boundaries of flirting. âYouâre my type too. More than the one with the mustache, but heâs not so bad.â
His smile crinkles his eyes, and you think you might swoon. This is good, you tell yourself. It feels good. Itâs a bit awkward, with just the slightest bit of tension, but youâre warming up; you just got out of a relationship for godâs sake.
âTrust me, sugar, however good you think he is, Iâm better.â He punctuates his sentence with a wink.
Youâre drop dead gorgeous, he thinks. Jake meets gorgeous women every day, but not one has made his heart beat just as fast. When you smile up at him through your lashes, heâs done for. Locked, loaded, and done for.
âYouâre that confident, hm?â You muse, setting your beer down on the counter. It took a great deal of complacency to not throw yourself at him and wrap yourself in his large hands. He swipes a bead of water off of your bottle, and you think all sorts of things. His fingers dripping, his face hot and sweaty, his hair messed up⌠you almost melt at the idea. âI think youâre going to have to prove it.â
He holds an arm out to you, and you graciously accept. âIâll prove it in a million ways, pretty girl. Dance with me and see for yourself.â
Jake leads you to a small area by the jukebox. His palms skim over your waist, pulling you closer but still leaving you aching for more. A song starts playing, one you donât recognize, but he seems to know exactly how to move to it.
If youâre being totally honest, heâs a really good dancer. And itâs so hot, unbearably so. He doesnât step on your feet, and he leads your every step without being overpowering. Every song, you seem to get closer and closer until your chest is basically pressed right up against his, and he can still move gracefully.
âHowâs this for proof?â He whispers, lips grazing over the shell of your ear. âRoosterâs got moves, but he isnât half as good as me.â
You push back on his chest gently, raising your eyebrows. âNow Iâm starting to think this is just a ploy to get him jealous. Does mustache man get on your nerves that much?â You grin as he takes your hands in his. He rolls his eyes.
âI got the cutest girl in the room all to myself. Who wouldnât be jealous? The only ploy here is the one where I try and get you to come home with me.â
Your teeth find purchase in your bottom lip, trying to hide your ever-growing smile. You might be getting free drinks more than once. âBuy me a drink and weâll see how that works out.â
To his credit, Jake seems completely okay with getting to know you before heading out. The conversation is engaging, studded with flirting and genuine curiosity. Itâs like heâs hanging on to every word you say, truly attempting to form any sort of connection. Most guys wouldnât make this effort for a one night stand, especially not someone who looks like they could have a new one every night.
To say heâs beyond saving is an understatement in Jakeâs opinion. With every second that goes by, youâre sounding more and more like his dream girl. You like his beer, his favorite place to eat, and you share a few of his hobbies. Itâs like a match made in heaven.
As the night progresses, guilt starts eating at the hem of your shirt. The drinks are running low, and the sky is growing dim, and the opportunity to fulfill your challenge is opening up more with every second that ticks by. Do you really want this amazing guy to be a bet?
He stands to leave, offering a hand to help you slip off your bar stool. âShall we?â
Your hesitation makes him falter just a bit. Jake would be okay with waiting, if he was being honest. Yeah, heâs been semi hard the entire time you ran your finger up and down your drink absentmindedly, but he could take you out on a real date first. One where you stare at him with those pretty eyes and smile your captivating smile.
The feeling takes over as you take in his willingness. âI have something to admit.â You murmur, almost too quiet to pick up over the din of the bar. Luckily for you, he has great hearing.
âLay it on me, sweet thing. I can take it.â He grins. Your hands find the edges of your shorts and play with the little string on the seam that youâve been meaning to cut for a few days now.
âI made a stupid agreement with my friends that if I took home the guy I thought was the hottest at the bar, then theyâd pay for my drinks next time.â You blurt out. His eyes widen slightly, sending a pang of anxiety through you, before his lips curl up into a smile.
He takes your arms and wraps them around his shoulders, spinning you towards the entrance of the bar. âWell, we wouldnât want a nice girl like you to pay for her own drinks, huh?â
You arrive at your small house and fumble with the lock while Jake presses hot kisses to your neck. Youâre biting back a whimper as the door finally swings open, walking short, hurried steps into the bedroom. His hands are all over you, burning like fire. Theyâre gripping at your shirt, your waist, the column of your throat, your upper thighâ anywhere he can get ahold of. You pull off your shirt as the back of your knees hit the soft mattress.
Before you can blink, Jake has taken off his shirt too, and his hands are kneading the bottom of your breasts, beneath your lacy bra. âYou sure?â He asks. You nod vigorously, unhooking your straps with your fingers, but he just looks down disapprovingly. âWith your words, baby.â
âYes.â You breathe. With that confirmation, he wastes no time.
Your clothes are tossed to some unknown corner of your room. You couldnât care less about where they ended up, not when Jake is running his fingers over your hardening nipples.
He ghosts over them with just enough pressure to get you cursing. Heâs hardly done anything and you can still feel a wetness gathering between your legs. When he moves up, taking your left nipple in his mouth, his bare thigh pressing between yours, a gasp escapes your mouth.
âThat good?â He asks. His low voice sends vibrations up your chest, and you utter a quiet confirmation. He pays some attention to your other breast as you practically grind against his thigh, desperate for any sort of friction where you need it most.
He gives you a playful sigh, looking down at your writhing body. You look gorgeous, and knowing that his slight touches are enough to make you squirm is the ego boost of the century. Your eyelashes give a slight flutter at his next words. âPatience. Iâll give you what you want eventually, donât worry.â His hand slips down and squeezes your thigh encouragingly.
âNow, Jake, please.â You almost whine. Itâs embarrassing how well he seems to figure out your body. Even now, heâs kissing his way down your neck, finding every place that heightens your growing arousal. You hook your legs around his waist and rest your arms on the sides of his neck. âI want what I want now.â
Itâs amazing how quickly your words travel to his dick. Jakeâs roaringly hard, and you can feel it pressing against your inner thigh. You rub your legs up and down, teasing, drawing the most beautiful groan out of his open mouth. Youâre going to be the death of him, he thinks.
âYou drive a hard bargain, darlinâ, and Iâm not one to refuse.â
His hands travel down your body, taking time to caress your sides and send shivers up your spine. When he finally reaches the puddle under you, he quirks his eyebrows. âThat excited?â
You roll your eyes at him, even though all he can see is the slightest movement of your face. âGet on with it, cowboy.â
He chuckles and places a small kiss on your hipbone. âYes maâam.â
He slips one finger inside you, pulling a soft noise from your swollen lips. âFuck, youâre tight.â He grunts. âMight take you a bit to get used to me.â He curls the finger gently, and you see stars as it brushes up against the spot inside of you that you canât reach yourself. Heâs bigger, stronger, longer, wider. A second finger joins the first, the digits stretching you deliciously.
A pressure begins to build in your stomach as his thumb finds your clit, rubbing gentle circles. Ah, fuck, he knows what heâs doing. Your hips buck up slightly on top of your mattress, pressing your core into the palm of his hand. âPlease.â You squeak.
He frowns, but his pupils are blown up in pure ecstasy. âWell excuse me for trying to give you a good time.â His free hand moves to pinch the curve of your ass lightly. You sit up fully and trail your nails down his back, reveling in the shiver it draws from him. With one smooth motion, you take his cock in your hand and give him a small stroke that has him jolting in his place.
âWe can both have a good time if you would put on a condom and fuck me already.â The words are out of your mouth before you can stop and consider how needy they sound. They seem to work, though, as he smirks at you and guides your hand up and down his length.
âIâm guessing your dresser drawer is ready for stuff like this?â He asks. You feel your face grow warmer at exactly how right he is as you slide the drawer open and grab one. âAh, youâve even got my size. What a responsible girl you are.â His voice comes out as a half laugh, and you try to stifle your own laughter with the palm of your hand.
âI like to be prepared.â
âMight as well throw the smaller ones away after tonight. Youâll only want mine when Iâm done with you.â Heâs so cocky itâs funny instead of off-putting. You hand him the condom and he rolls it over himself. He has a right to be cocky, you think, with a body like that. All taut muscle and chest hair. When he brings his hand up to the back of your neck to lower you down on your bed, your heart gives a mighty flutter.
âProve it.â You say, for the second time that night. He gives you a look that says heâs going to prove it more than once, over and over until youâre begging him to keep proving it, then a bit more after that.
Your eyes flutter shut as you feel his tip pressing into your warm entrance. As he pushes forwards slowly, teasingly, youâre suddenly aware of just how big he is. Bigger than anyone youâve ever felt, and despite how wet youâve become, itâs a lot to handle. You wince as his length stretches you, waiting for the feeling to shift from uncomfortable to ungodly good.
âYou bit off more than you can chew, didnât you?â Jake teases. âWe can stop if you want, just say the word.â
Your steady voice challenges him as you try to pull it together. âKeep going. I can take it.â
He doesnât know how, but Jake gets impossibly harder. He indulges you, though, leaving small kisses on your cheeks to distract you from the pinching pain. Once heâs completely bottomed out, you breathe a sigh of relief. Then, of course, you notice that it feels good. Really good.
Heâs pressed right up against a spot that has you seeing stars, and when he moves, slowly at first, the drag forces a moan from deep in your throat. You feel so full, so complete. His pace picks up, and you close your eyes.
âFuck, baby. You feel so good.â He praises, voice strained. The movement of his hips is delicious. Smooth, quick, deep. When his fingers find his way to your clit, you almost finish right then and there.
Youâre panting, breath coming out in hot waves against the nape of Jakeâs neck. He shivers at the feeling, pressing closer to you to soak in more of that warmth. âJake, Iâm- Iâm gonnaâŚâ you trail off, closing your mouth as another whimper tries to sneak out.
âGo for it, sweetness. Let me hear that pretty voice.â
With one, two, three more strokes, you feel the knot within you beginning to unravel. Your nails rake down his sides, one of his hands is gripping your waist and the other is firmly attached to your bundle of nerves, and his mouth is suddenly on yours, muffling your noises. Itâs overwhelming. With one sharp gasp, you clench down hard and come undone.
Jake follows soon after as he pulls out with a groan. The sound falls heavily on your blissed-out ears.
You sit up, taking his face in your hand. âYouâve proved it. Oh, and Iâm officially tonightâs lucky winner.â You say with a beaming smile. He scoffs lightly.
âYou were a winner the minute you stepped into that bar.â He winks at you as your hand moves down to rest on his collarbone. âJust let me join in on your winnings when you cash out.â
âIn your dreams, cowboy. The most youâll get is a beer or two before my friends take their cards away.â
He blows a little air out of the side of his mouth before collapsing onto your bed like he owns it, pulling you into his arms. âIâll take what I can get if it means I can see you again.â
You sigh happily, snuggling into his chest. âIs that a promise?â
âSure is. The Hard Deck, next Friday. Bring your friends and weâll figure it out from there.â
Taglist: @seitmai
#solar eclipse.#total eclipse.#jake seresin x reader#jake hangman seresin#top gun maverick#jake seresin x y/n#jake seresin fluff#jake seresin x you#jake seresin fic#jake seresin fanfiction#jake seresin#top gun maverick x reader#top gun x reader#top gun#top gun hangman#top gun fandom#top gun imagine#top gun fanfiction#top gun movie
737 notes
¡
View notes
Text
sorry honey, im ovulating
tw ; minors, ageless, empty blogs DNI OR ILL BLOCK YOU!! nsfw, porn w/o plot straight under the line, kinda m!sub
Gun never ever thought that sex might be different.
he never suspect that it actually can be way different than he used to do with his one night stands. how can sex in a serious relationship differ from the sex he paid for, or with those who just clung to his shoulders in some random club? that's right, no difference! or so Gun thought before he started dating you.
many would have identified Gun as a masochist, but in bed he still preferred to keep a dominant role. although you don't seem to care much about that right now. all you were worried about right now, was another orgasm while you were jumping up and down on your boyfriend's dick.
what was the time in a row? 4? 5? you both have already lost count. blankets and pillows are scattered on the bed, and lying somewhere at the foot or at the floor, the sheets are all wet with sweat, saliva, and a mixture of his sperm and your juices.
any other time, Gun would have finished as soon as he cum, but it was different with you. of course, usually you two went through 2, in rare cases, through 3 rounds and then exhausted (lol only you) went to sleep, but that night for the first time Gun felt that he was not fucking, but being fucked. he already had you in all positions, was rough, was gentle, but you still didn't calm down. after the last orgasm, you were still caressing like a kitten, giggling, biting your lower lip and nuzzling his neck, sucking and biting the skin, whispering in his ear that you still want more. you were purring with pleasure, and Gun was getting nervous. did he lack the strength to cope with your libido? is he tired? after sex? nonsense, he would have thought, but you have already straddled his hips from above, and his cock has already showed deep into your tight, hot pussy. after so many hours of sex, you were still clutching him tightly, and then Gun thought⌠you are fucking him now, not him, as it usually happens. and if his eyes were pitch black, then he could have sworn that your eyes were almost glowing in the darkness of your bedroom right now. just like the succub.
it's not that he sees you as a rival now, but your smug smile, half-closed eyes in which he could almost see little hearts when his dick pounded into your sweet, sensitive spot. his hands found your hips, and squeezed with such force, that there will definitely be bruises in the morning. you just gasped in surprise, too deeply immersed in the euphoria of your own pleasureâŚ
when you finally finished, it was Gun who was lying exhausted, arms outstretched and staring at the ceiling with an empty (as well as his balls) gaze. rising up on your elbows, you giggled, and lightly kissed him on the cheek, merrily murmuring âsorry honey, iâm ovulating, i just couldn't get enough of youâ and easily flew out of bed, grabbing a towel and heading to the shower, leaving Gun alone in bed... thinkingâŚ
wait, did you just fucked him?
#[ ~ koi.talksđŁ]#lookism smut#lookism#lookism imagine#webtoon lookism#lookism webtoon#lookism manhwa#lookism fic#lookism x reader#lookism gun#gun smut#gun park headcanons#gun park x reader#gun park lookism#yamazaki gun x reader#yamazaki gun#gun park#park jun gun
788 notes
¡
View notes
Text
The Love Of Your Life - PAC
PILE 1 PILE 2 PILE 3
PAID READINGS!
My readings are allegedly for entertainment purposes only. Any choices made based on my readings have nothing to do with me and the responsibility falls solely on the shoulders of the person consuming my readings.
Love of my life, you've hurt me You've broken my heart And now you leave me Love of my life, can't you see? - Queen
PILE 1
The love of your life Pile 1 is someone who is quite traditional with how they view marriage and love. The love of your life is the type to not be afraid of courting you with their entire being. They are very big on the family and home; they want stability and a home full of love where everyone is free to express themself and be emotionally fulfilled. When it comes to the relationship with you they want to be both the lover and the protector, they want to take care of you in every aspect like emotionally, physically, mentally and materialistically. They work very heart for what they have but to them it feels like it's not enough infact I don't think it will never feel like it's enough. When it comes to taking care of you NOTHING WILL EVER BE ENOUGH. It kind of bruises their ego when they can't properly provide for you. They are quite a romantic and sensitive soul that just wants a spouse and a happy home.
PILE 2
The love of your life is a more intense person. They have this inner strength and resilience that a lot of people may find intimidating, and some may try to oppress it but it never works because they just kind of bulldoze their way through situations. They have a fiery lust for life, they are the let's take life by the balls and fuck everyone else type of person. They dance to the beat of their own drum, and they don't conform to societal standards which again a lot of people may hate. They are a free spirit and they tend to have a difficulty with balancing their free-spirited nature and responsibility. They seem to be more on the jealous side and more on the overpowering side.
PILE 3
The love of your life is someone who is quite romantic and values connections with those closest to them deeply. They will be your other half with similar morals, mindset and opinions. They are intuitive, creative. In love they take the more feminine role like being loving, caring and nurturing basically being the one to take care of you. They are very outspoken and fiery in nature and has a lot of ambition. They want to achieve a lot at once. They seem to have frustrations relating to work. They want to achieve a lot professionally and when they don't meet their goals they just go into a deep frustration and it feels like they just aren't themselves.
#tarot cards#tarot reading#tarotblr#free tarot reading#tarot#tarotcommunity#divination#tarot deck#paid tarot reading#paid readings#paid astrology#pagan witch#witchcraft#witches#witch#witchblr#witchcore#witch aesthetic#witchy vibes#paganblr#paganism#hellenic pagan#pagan#norse paganism#norse heathen#norse mythology#norse gods#norse polytheism#norse pagan#norse deities
327 notes
¡
View notes