#branded insole
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
god cursed me with big, flat, wide, weak ass sensitive bitch feet and i've been consistently buying and returning pairs of shoes for like 2 or 3 weeks now because they don't fit right
#finally scored a pair of converse brand bitches i think will stick as well as another pair i have on the way. i think it's over#i've bought so many different pairs of support insoles too bye#my feet hurt so bad all the time from standing around at work it's been worse lately sos
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
I hate shoes sizing
I bought a pair that in EU size was a 37.5 which according to the conversion was the same size I wear in Mexican or US size. (Although tbh I wear from 36 to 38 depending on the brand).
Well, theyâre slightly too small. They fit better if I put on my ankle brace but theyâre ballerina shoes so it looks kinda weird. And I mean they do fit anyway without it, but theyâre uncomfortable if I wear them for too long, so theyâve been used only for short outings until now (if I didnât like them too much I couldâve given them to my sister but Iâm still unsure).
Anyway for my upcoming birthday, I bought a different pair from the same brand but in 38 (only half a size bigger). And they are huge. Granted, these are sneakers but they are too big anyway. It doesnât look like half a size, itâs literally like one or two bigger. And theyâre so wide, they so look weird and idk if I like them yet.
#I guess itâll be better with socks and maybe I can fit an insole#but this makes me mad. why canât the same brand have like. a base#im not sending them back or changing size tho. first because I hate doing all the work for returning items so I never do#and also because well the first pair are used already and I got those discounted so if I wanted to change size theyâd have charged me more#for the second pair they dont have it in 37 itâs either 36 or 38+#and like what if the 36 is tiny?? Iâd rather use my clown shoes with insoles and be done w it#maybe in winter when I wear 3 pairs of socks#đ©đ© this is why I hate online shopping for shoes . those should only be in person#robiin.txt
0 notes
Photo
CHOUBAGUAI yellow leather pointed toe 8.5cm (3.35") high heel stiletto office shoes with insole branded BIGTREE äžć
«æȘ (ChÇubÄguĂ i) is an Chinese clothing brand and retailer. In addition to clothing for women, ChÇubÄguĂ i markets other fashion accessories such as watches, jewellery, glasses and shoes.
#CHOUBAGUAI#leather#pointed toe#85mm#3.35"#gelb#fashion#luxury#yellow#aesthetic vibes#talons#chaussures#jaune#Stöckelschuhe#beautiful heels#pointy toe#talons hauts#chaussures Ă talons aiguilles#жДлŃŃĐ”#ŃŃŃлО#Đ¶Đ”ĐœŃĐșОД Đ±ĐŸŃĐžĐœĐșĐž#ŃŃŃлО ĐœĐ° ĐČŃŃĐŸĐșĐŸĐŒ ĐșаблŃĐșĐ”#escarpins#äžć
«æȘ#branded insole#BIGTREE#women's pumps#high heels#office heels#ChÇubÄguĂ i
356 notes
·
View notes
Text
#best fresh feet insoles#eco friendly shoe insoles#branding#sneakerhead essential shoes#marketing#scented shoe insoles#comfortable shoes on feet all day#eco-friendly sneakers us#packaging#outfit#Best insoles for walking and standing all day#Most comfortable shoe insoles#Best comfort insoles for walking
0 notes
Text
The eternal struggle between my hiking shoes chafing specific spots but my work shoes making me generally sore af...
#tbf my hiking shoes would prob be fine if i had halfway decent socks and also my work shoes could prob handle the walk to campus#if i got halfway decent insoles#but good socks cost money and this brand/model of work shoe seems to blow out *much* faster with aftermarket insoles for some reason :/#like if i swap them the sole rips off after like 4 months whereas current pair i haven't changed and while i might as well be#walking right on the damn pavement the insoles have compressed so thin the shoes themselves at least stayed intact for like 8 months#vimes boot theory at literal work i guess but yeah such is life when I'm actively on my last grace day for rent bc literally neither of#my jobs have bothered to pay on time lol đđ#anyway
1 note
·
View note
Text
ngl ive always wanted to try and recreate the insolent children hoodie max had in this chapter
#benji reads pnat#iirc theres only a shirt that has the insolent children fake-real-branding on it in the store#but no hoodie. horrid.
0 notes
Text
Officially the girl with her shoes off at the concert
#silver sparkly boots had something sharp protutruding from the insole of the non broken boot#so i had to wear brand new high tops#bad idea
1 note
·
View note
Text
Own the Badminton Court with Custom Insoles and Orthotics
Badminton players are on their feet all the time. From jumping, running, sprinting, and rushing all over the badminton court, itâs only reasonable to expect minor pain and discomfort. Whether you are experiencing pain from biomechanical issues or a sports injury, adding extra cushioning in the form of insoles and orthotics can help you.
How can Badminton Players benefit from using Insoles?
Did you know insoles help reduce pain from plantar fasciitis, under pronation, over pronation, low arch, high arch, etc.? With the additional comfort and cushioning, orthotics supports your movement, avoid sports injuries and reduce pain caused by existing injuries.
As a badminton player involved in a high-intensity sport, insoles can provide comfort and support, especially if you play the game several days a week. Insoles will absorb shock, distribute pressure throughout the foot, and reduce muscle overload, thus decreasing pain in your ankles, knees, and back.
Modern orthotics and insoles can impact the crucial pressure points on your feet, thus alleviating soreness. It will result in better balance and posture on the badminton court and improve blood circulation to prevent swelling.
Why Custom Orthotics is the Best Solution for Players?
When you are shopping for orthotics or foot insoles, you will find the market has to offer plenty of options. From over-the-counter foot insoles from the most well-known brands to custom-made orthotics at your podiatrist, foot insoles can cost you a few dollars or hundreds of them.
Many players use shoe insoles from old shoes to make their new ones more comfortable. Often, they buy OTC inserts to avoid wear and tear on their new shoes or even to address any pain issues. However, one needs to trim them to match the foot size, and any small error can render the insoles inoperative.
If you are looking for an affordable custom-made option, it is wise to choose custom orthotics at your trusted local sports store. Many badminton equipment stores understand the importance of affordable orthotics and offer custom insoles service to address the needs of their patrons. You can access custom insoles for as low as $55 and still enjoy podiatrist-level precision for your feet.
Crucial Things to consider when getting Custom Foot Insoles
If you are buying customized insoles, pay attention to the following points:
1. Choose A Reliable Custom Foot Insoles Service
If you look for âcustom foot insoles near me,â you will find several businesses offering the service in your area. However, choosing someone without a thorough investigation can lead to wasteful expenditures.
Before you decide, discuss your requirements with the business. Do they use computerized podoscope to get accurate measurements of your foot? What can be the margin of error? Will they accept a prescription from your podiatrist? How much time will it take to create custom foot insoles? What will be the price?
Rely on an experienced service provider to customize the insoles according to the size and shape of your feet. It will enable you to address the problems and reduce your pain.
2. Be Ready to invest in New Badminton Shoes
Whether you have wide feet or narrow feet, insoles can make your existing shoes uncomfortable. So, do not wear insoles for the first time on the day of your crucial match.
If you use insoles while playing a badminton match and your shoes do not accommodate the space required for the insoles, you may experience sharp pain. It is because insoles can put extra pressure on your feet. So, it is necessary to try the insoles with your shoes beforehand.
If they are painful, you must buy new shoes in a larger size. And remember to try your new shoes with the insoles. Walk around in them and sprint a little to understand how the shoes will feel on the badminton court.
3. There will be an Adjustment Stage
Custom insoles can be an affordable and effective solution to your pain. The orthotics relieve pressure on your foot, but you need to consider the type of orthotics you buy for optimal results.
For example, rigid orthotics can decrease pressure in the forefoot region and avoid toe turf injuries common in badminton. However, every player may not be comfortable with rigid orthotics. Few may feel the texture inconvenient and require softer gel-based insoles to address their problems.
You must understand that you will need time to figure out the best insoles for you. Even if you buy new shoes to wear the custom insoles, you will need some time to acclimatize to the insoles.
Many people opt for off-the-shelf insoles because of the same reason. However, if you work with an expert, you can get custom insoles right the first time. Explain your problems to the professionals lucidly and understand the process of creating custom insoles. By choosing an experienced service provider, you will know what to expect from custom insoles and, thus, increase your satisfaction level.
Want to ensure an injury-free badminton experience? Buy the best badminton shoes and choose branded insoles. You can opt for custom orthotics for additional comfort.
0 notes
Text
Yandere King Naga // Part 1
Thinking about living in the forest once youâve transmigrated to another world. Instead of getting caught up in some romance plot or adventure you decide to just live in a little cottage. Where you catch and cook your own food, making some passive income when you do venture into the town. On your way back from one of these trips you happen upon a little bundle crying on the dirt path.
âOh my, who forgot you little sunshine?â
You smile when their crying ceases when you lightly rock them, beginning to notice a few odd-looking patches on their cheek. Then when those tiny eyes finally open little slits look back up at you while their mouth with little budding incisors open to coo at you. All of it leads to you opening up the bundled wrappings around them to find a wiggly and stubby little snakeâs tail. It is then you make the perilous decision to raise this little naga in secret.Â
In this world, you could tell it wasnât advanced enough to accept monsters or anything not human into the community. That you might be branded a monster as well just for caring for the creature. Nonetheless, you rationalize that this is perfect for your forest lifeâwhere youâre more likely to meet other monsters than humans. Thus your life with this little one begins and you thank his naga-biology that he grows up fast.Â
âI caught a mouse! Are you proud of me!â
âYup, Iâm real proud! Now come on you need a bath.â
But not too fast. Life is good for a while while you tend to the house your little oneâNox ventures to the perimeter of the forest to play before returning to you. He is still a child. Things go on normally until he comes slithering to you with snot in his nose, tears in his eyes, and babbling through tears. Hugging and holding him you check for injuries and when you find none you try to convince him to talk to you.
âWhatâs wrong, Nox?â
âI-I-Thereâs a guy out there! A-a-and he keeps following me! Look!â
Hiding behind you and clutching your pants, following his finger to the underbrush of the forest around you harden your stance. Thinking about the knife in your pocket and your other hand holding onto Nox, keeping him behind you. Watching the leaves and branches rustle with movement you prepared yourself for a fight.Â
âAre you this childâs guardian?â
Itâs another Naga, standing tall on a tail adorned with patches of gold in his white tail. Hiding further in the brush you can tell there are black rings around the tip of their tail which seems to be coiled a lot closer. Heâs lean but muscular and his golden eyes are glaring at you.Â
âI am. Why?â
He hisses, âTo think a human would take in a hatchling purely out of goodheartedness is ridiculous. Iâm going to take this child home where he belongs.â
âNooo!â
âHeâs my kid and if you want to fight for him I will do that.â
With a final pat on Noxâs head, you tell him to stay near the house. You goad the naga man into a place near the forest saying youâd rather not do this in front of Nox before taking off running. You know heâs following as you hear him angrily hiss and slither through the wood. Bringing him to a desired spot you turn keeping your knife behind you as he launches his tail in your direction. Expecting it, you dodge finally revealing your knife and aiming it at his tail creating a gash that has him hissing.Â
âHaaaa Insolent Human! How dare you!?â
Usually, with a knife like yours, you never would have broken the protection of the scales but taking care of Nox offered some invaluable insight. You tried to dodge again but failed as his tail coiled around you in the blink of an eye. Squeezing immediately it took you a moment to turn your knife around to stab at what scales you could. He grunted but seemingly had settled for the stab at the expense of strangling you.Â
âIâm going to enjoy watching the life leave from you, human! Your kind makes me sick.â
The pressure was unbearable but your adrenaline was high and with the simple gesture of bringing you closer to spit in your face you took a leap of faith. Abandoning your knife for some wiggle room you launched forward clamping onto his neck your only weapon leftâyour teeth.Â
That seemed to catch him off guard his tail unraveling enough to let the rest of your body go. Now allowed to pin him down, using your feet and hands to pin down his own as you continued to bite into his neck you didnât stop until you heard him moan.
âAaaa~! Wait no, please! Youâve got to let aah~!
In your peripheral, you could see his alabaster tail twirl and twist oddly. From your position, you couldnât see his face but you could imagine what his expression was. Considering you could feel the connection of his hips bucking against your own. The final nail in the coffin other than his constant streams of wonton moans you could hear the familiar worried slither of your son coming through the wood.Â
He was calling for you. Hopefully, so loud he would miss the Naga continuing to make the loud moans despite you standing over him and wiping your teeth of his blood. Finally, looking at him you could see the darkened tips of their ears and cheeks as they continued to oddly curl on themselves. You didnât bother trying to stop him, not wanting to trigger another fight you just ran scooping Nox up and barricading you both in your home. Hopefully, by the time the Naga man comes to his senses, he will have accepted his loss by then and leave.Â
Unbeknownst to you that Naga would spend all night shifting and rolling in their ground replaying the fight. All the while moaning and groaning, driving all the smartest predators far away. This would continue until daybreak when he finally stopped but the heat in his cheeks was far from gone.
âThatâthat human is perfectâŠa humanâŠwho wouldâve guessed.â
After a day you venture out, Nox sticking close to you while you undo the locks of the door with a knife in hand. Looking out you hoped youâd find no one in the clearing near your homeâthat was not the case.
âHello human!â
Slamming the door on his face, you replay the expression and the closeness that they were standing outside the door. If only to sate your curiosity you opened the door again.Â
âHiââ
Slam
âHow areââ
Slam
âYou?â
When he seems to stay in that same place the whole rest of the day, you eventually encourage Nox to keep his nose down and help you with your chores. Ignoring the smiley Naga who was oddly no longer hostile.
âWhat are you doing? Hanging your human clothes? How cute can I help?
âIs this how humans catch their food? How human-like so clever I wouldâve never thought a net would be how you do that!â
âYou are such a good parent to your little one? Would you like to have some more?â
Once you're able to shoo the intrigued Nox away, you decide to hose this guy down for answers. Good thing heâs happy to provide them. He finally introduces himself as a King of Naga who was coming to pass judgment on a Naga child living with a human from the smaller snakes of the forest. You hold your complaints about his presumptuous assessment, to ask why heâs still here assuming the fight said that you were capable enough to raise Nox.
âYes well, now Iâm courting you!â
âExcuse me?â
âYou not only bested me in battle, you also did the most submitting action and claiming that a Naga could do. YouâŠbit me~â
âEven soâŠIâm not a Naga.â
âWell usually thatâd matter but I am the King of all Naga once my neck has been bitten and claimed there can be no others that is until you die.â
âCanât you just pretend I died in the battle?â
âPreposterous your my destined mate! No other will do!â
Thus your days are spent trying to explain to Nox why the Naga you fought with was hanging around so often. On top of that the King Naga whose real name was Shian, had begun to ramp up his advances. No longer happy to just wave at you behind trees or happily follow you with your chores. He gets closer, testing your boundaries and breaking them as he intends to instigate some kind of reciprocation.
He is a King, And heâll get what he wants....eventually.
Part 2: Here
#yandere x reader#yandere x you#lovelyyandereaddictionpoint#yanderexrea#yandere#yanderes#yandere oc x reader#yandere oc#yandere ocs x reader#yandere oc x you#yandere naga#yandere naga original character#yandere naga oc#yandere oc naga#yandere naga x reader#yandere king naga#yandere original characters#yandere original character
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
moros's looking glass.
yandere!overblot!riddle x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, death, victorian era, obsession, attempted captivity, arranged marriage, threats of violence, restraints, non-consensual touching and kissing note - after the death of your husband, you are left to sift through his estate. you'll soon find some ghosts refuse to remain in their graves.
To the esteemed Lady of the Rosehearts Estate: It is with a shrouded heart that I write to inform you of Lord Roseheartsâs untimely passing. It is a most unfortunate occasion, and for such reasons I must implore you to return from your seaside retreat with great haste.Â
Mrs. Roseheartsâs bare hand comes down so suddenly that you hardly have any chance to brace yourself before it makes contact with your cheek. A harsh smack resounds throughout the hall, echoing within your brain until itâs all you can process. The sting that follows warms your tender skin and, though you wish to soothe it with a gentle caress, you remain stone-faced and stiff before her, a mere statuette who has been frozen in time.Â
âSuch insolence is unforgivable,â she seethes, swiping her glove from her butler, who holds it out with his head bowed and shoulders hunched. She fits her hand inside the pristine fabric and flexes her fingers momentarily before turning her fiery gaze back on you. âYou were well aware of the ailment that consumed my dear Riddle and yet you abandoned him in his time of need! You are the lady of this house. It is your duty to remain here! Must the implication be branded on your very bosom for you to recognize it?!âÂ
âMy deepest apologies, madam.â You lower into a perfect curtsy. âI did not possess enough foresight to know that this might happen. For that, I am truly regretful.âÂ
He was already at deathâs door. A sickly body is meant for the hands of higher powers, or so theyâve said. I suppose this is the inevitability of fate.
âI have always been of the opinion that you were inadequate for my son,â she snaps. âIf it werenât for your familyâs status, Iâd have had you pulled from his life before you could ruin it further like the vapid weed you are.â
With a huff, she strides past you.
You remain in the hall, comforted by the soft tock of the old grandfather clock.
Itâs not my fault your son was sickly, you think, scowling at the floor tiles. But you refuse to allow this to darken your mood. Gathering yourself, you straighten your posture and smooth the sting in your cheek with a few consoling pats.
I am (Name) Rosehearts, lady of this fine estate. I shall not waver in the face of a monstrous mother.
Though your union was one of arrangement, it took some time to convince Mrs. Rosehearts. She only conceded after her son had, quite literally, begged her. Your parentsâ social status and fortune were quite persuasive as well. It was your late husband who argued with her, day and night, for the right to wed you.
âMother, I have fancied no other to the extent I do Lady (Name). Should you come between us, I shall take her and we will be wed elsewhereâwith or without your approval.â
Not wanting to lose her pride and joy and faced with the boundless prosperity boasted by the arrangement, she submitted to his demands. Thus, you were wed. You shall never forget the disdain scrawled on her wrinkled countenance as she watched you from her place in the pews. She disapproved of your dress, your disposition, your very existence. There was no part of you that could please her, but she had no choice. For Riddleâs sake, she would have to acquiesce.
Now that heâs no longer of this world, youâre feeling the force of her frosty hatred more directly. She has, by her own standards, every reason to dislike you. You could not conceive an heir to carry on the legacy. You could not be there to assist Riddle while he was on his deathbed. You could not measure up to her lofty expectations of what a proper wife and lady should be. You could not be pretty enough. The list is endless.
âMy lady, the photographer is waiting,â the butler pipes up, nodding in the direction of the room.
âI understand. Thank you.â
You inhale all of your negativity, allow it to fester within your lungs, and then you expel it in a long exhale.
You must stand tall and proud in the face of adversity. Do not falter.
This is the busiest you have seen the silent, despair-tinged halls of the Rosehearts Manor. Shadows creep along floral, cream-colored wallpaper, and the curtains do well to keep the sun from poking its rays through the gloom. Your grip tightens on your lace shawl as youâre led through the foyer, and when you view the vaulted ceiling it seems to spiral into never-ending darkness. Photographs are turned over to protect those in the film who are still living. The clocks are all stopped at three in the morningâsupposedly the time at which Riddle gave his final breath. Every reflective surface has been enveloped in black cloth, and every funeral attendant you pass offers sympathetic bows and curtsies. Your nose crinkles at them, but you nod your acknowledgement and continue down the hall.Â
Riddle is poised on the sofa, his arms folded primly in his lap. His face is colored in a sickly pallor, and heâs dressed in his best suit. If it werenât for how deathly still he is, youâd think he was full of life. Glassy greys stare listlessly ahead. You peer into them. He does not blink or recognize your presence.
It occurs to you that he truly is dead.
Mrs. Rosehearts is quick to shoo you away. âDistance! Youâll pollute the air near my Riddle!â
You offer her a cordial simper. âWherever shall I sit?â
She wrinkles her nose at you but gestures to the spot beside him. âYou are his wife, so you must sit at his side here.â
âVery well.â You lower onto the cushion. Riddle is arranged to lean against you. He is cold and stiff, almost like a doll. His soft hair brushes your cheek. âAnd what of you, madam?â
âYou are to be photographed first, after which I shall replace you. Then, weâll both be photographed.â
âIf it pleases,â you reply, looking towards the camera. Gently, you close your hand over Riddleâs gloved one.
Forgive me, Riddle. I should have returned from the sea sooner, but I was cowardly and could not bear to face you as you withered away. It is with great shame that I wear this mourning dress.
Your photo is taken. For the rest of the ordeal, you remain in your head. The shuffling of bodies is drowned out, for you focus only on your husband as heâs situated on the sofa beside his mother.Â
Riddle wouldnât have wanted that, you think, but then you pause. What would he want?
You can scarcely say.
Afterwards, Riddle is placed in his coffin, his eyes shut, and carried feet-first from the house. You accompany the procession, everyone following the solemn hearse in its travels. There is a hollow in the ground, where a group of men lower the death box. They work silently and diligently to shovel soil and fill the hole. You stand off to the side, watching from behind your veil. You donât shed tears, but neither does Mrs. Rosehearts.
It is a chilly, autumn day devoid of birdsong and sunshine.
A laurel wreath is hung on the door following the funeral, and an ornament fashioned out of his hair alongside his photo are kept enclosed in a locket pin. You hold it in your hands at all times, tucking it beneath your pillow when you sleep, cherishing this piece of him. You visit his grave just as frequently as it is guarded. Every now and then, you expect the bell aboveground to ring, signaling life from below. It never does.
Riddle left his entire estate to you. His mother could fume as she pleased, but the validity of his penmanship could not be denied. He explicitly wrote: To my wife, Lady (Name) Rosehearts: You are granted all mortal possessions within my estate as well as ownership to the property. Do with it as you like.
Your relationship with Riddle, while not free of its strains, was mostly amicable. You played your parts well enough. Even so, it bewilders you that he would leave you so much. You always assumed heâd gift it to his mother, as she seemed to have a hand in every aspect of his existenceâhis death included. She planned the funeral and the burial well in advance, arranged the photographer, even the outfit he was to wear.
Now, dressed in black crepe, you wander aimlessly through a quiet, covered house and wonder what you should do with so much empty space. There are still rules you must follow, of course, each one aligning with mourning customs. But now that you donât have your husband to enforce them, you feelâŠlost.
Illuminated by candlelight, your reflection follows you as you walk past an uncovered mirror, trapped in silent reverie.
And then you stop.
An uncovered mirror?
In a horrified panic, you set the candlestick down to gaze at yourself in the glass.
This canât be! All of the mirrors must be covered! What happened?!
You scramble to shroud it, your heart pounding restlessly like a war drum. For a while you stand there, waiting for something. You anticipate a shout from the shadows: Donât you know you are expected to cover each and every reflective surface in the wake of death? Do you want to be pulled into the grave next?! Nothing happens, though. The house remains perfectly still.Â
You think you hear someone breathing shallowly, but then you realize thatâs you. Your chest heaves as you take in big gasps of air.
No one will know, you remind yourself, gradually calming your frazzled nerves. The mirror is covered. That is the end of that.
The grandfather clockâs midnight chime echoes down the hall. Sighing, you lift the candlestick and carry on.
âI shall retire to bed,â you tell the darkness, climbing the stairs. Riddleâs room is kept sealed, a place stuck in permanence. You refuse to disturb his things, lest you dampen his spirit, and so you beeline for your room. Itâs directly across from his. When he was alive, he insisted you sleep at his side despite the bed customs between couples. Stubbornly, you refused. You recall the dismal glimmer that darkened his eyes whenever youâd decline. He would always promise the same thingâ
âShould you need the warmth of another body, I am here to receive you. Forever and always.â
Pulled from your reminiscing, you turn sharply on your heel and raise the flame to light the end of the hall.
âHow strange. I was certainâŠâ You peer over the bannister at the foyer below. âRiddle, have you come home?â
Silence is your only reply.
âFoolish,â you chide, contenting yourself with the facts. âHe rests peacefully in his grave.â
Burrowing into your woolen shawl, you depart for your bedroom.
In an empty house, swathed in the quilted duvet, you drift off into dreamless slumber.
Itâs not the clock or the cold that jerks you from sleep. Rather, itâs the screeching noise that grates on your ears. You blink through the dark, only to cringe moments later when someone drags their nails over glass. You almost allow yourself to fall back into the sheets when you realize there shouldnât be any human disturbances here, for youâre the only one in this house.
A mouse, perhaps?
But even you know thatâs impossible, no matter how much you want to believe such faulty logic.
Throwing the covers off, you search blindly for the candlestick at your bedside. You fumble with the match, shivering like a frightened fawn, but eventually flame brightens the space. Now equipped with light, you peek outside your room, searching either end of the hall just in case. No oneâs there, but the scratching continues. Incessantly, almost maddeningly, as if whoeverâs doing it is trying to escape.
Nails onâŠglass. On glass.
Glass.
Itâs coming from Riddleâs room.
The mirror!
You shuffle towards the door, only to stop short just as your foot steps in something sticky.
You lift your leg and shine the light on it. A black substance that appears to be some sort of molten tar or ink drips from your sole. With a gasp, you drag your foot upon the floor in hopes of getting rid of it.
âUgh! How filthy!â
Resolving to wash it later, you stomp over to the door, yank it open, and poke your head inside. A rush of cold air barrages your face, whistling through the crack and out into the corridor. You stumble away in a daze. The scratching persists, angrily now, in a desperate sort of fashion.Â
âRiddle?â you call out, your voice subdued and shot through with fear. âI⊠Iâm sorry for disturbing you. Iâd like to warm myself with you, if youâll allow it.â
Just like that, the house stills. Shakily, you hold the candle out to light a portion of his room.
âI never should have left you. It must have been terribly lonely here. Lonely and cold⊠Iâve betrayed you in life, but in death I will be here to look after you. Forever and always. So⊠So please rest peacefully.â
The tip-tapping of a sharpened nail against the glass almost startles you out of your skin. You realize then that the shroud has fallen away from the mirror.Â
If I must look upon it⊠Oh, but Iâd rather not⊠Oh, but I must!
Steeling yourself, you burst into the room and brandish the candlestick. Thankfully, there are no monsters or humans to scare you. No ghosts to be banished. No intruders to chase off. Instead, you see yourself in the mirror.
OrâŠan approximation of you. Not quite a doppelgĂ€nger in appearance. This version of you is wearing soaked rags, tattered and tired, but she has your eyes. Theyâre unmistakable as they stare back at you.
You set the candlestick on the bedside table and inch closer to the mirror.
âPeculiar,â you whisper, reaching for the glass just as your reflection does. âSurely this isnât me. I look ghastly!â
Your fingers brush the surface and, in a stroke of shock, just as the grandfather clock below chimes the hour, your hand goes through. Before you can think to pull away, something on the other side tugs at your wrist, frigid fingers coiling tightly. With a shriek, you resist and claw wildly at the air, stretching to grab hold of the bed. You manage to grasp the edge of the blanket, which is pulled free from its neat placement, just as youâre dragged through the mirror.
All thatâs left of you is the locket pin, having fallen to the floor in a clatter during the scuffle.
You open your eyes on a room colored black and white. It looks like yours, but something is different. It doesnât feel like yours. It doesnât even appear lived in. Almost as if itâs been sealed like a crypt, kept in pristine condition as it awaits an owner who will never return.
Where am I? you wonder, closing your hands around your shawl. It provides you with a modicum of comfort.
A book is lying on the vanity desk, the only thing that looks just slightly out of place in an otherwise tidy room. Curiously, you pick it up and open it to read the cover: Property of Riddle Rosehearts.
âOh?â
You turn to a random page and skim through the words: Iâve waited ceaselessly for her return, so much so Iâm beginning to lose count of the days. Iâve no inkling as to whatâs real and whatâs false. I see her in the stars, in the mirror, in my dreams⊠She is lost, Iâm certain of this. No one will listen to me. Theyâve condemned me to my solitude in this house, but soon Iâll swap places with him and then Iâll have her. It is only a matter of time. She will be mine.
ThisâŠcannot be my husbandâs diary. Or was it? This is undoubtedly his penmanship.
Surely your husband wasnât seeing another woman. He has always been honest and sincere. He has never raised his hand to you, nor has he ever threatened you. He is gentle, albeit rough and awkward around the edges, but he means well. Furthermore, youâve never known him to keep diaries.
If he was embroiled in an adulterous affair, perhaps it was for the best. I could not hope to give him a child. I couldnât bring him happiness or comfort. I am a failure of a wife, you think, running your thumb over the page.
You must stand tall and proud in the face of adversity. Do not falter.
Drying your eyes, you set the diary down and resolve to keep your strength for the exploration to come. Crying will not help you here. Not right now.
Never falter.
You push the door open and step out into the hall. The photographs are turned upright; mirrors are uncovered. The staircase is on the opposite end of the hall instead of directly around the corner like yours is back home. Even with the differences, the house reminds you of Riddleâs manor.
Strange⊠Everything is so similar and yet itâs not.
You creep down the stairs, eyeing the crystal chandelier hanging high in the foyer. In fact, now that youâre descending, youâre beginning to notice just how many reflective surfaces surround you. Looking glasses of all shapes and sizes. Crystal decorations that reflect in dozens⊠Itâs overwhelming. At every angle, your face peers back at you.
When you peel the curtain away to glance outside, you find an unsettling white space stretching on endlessly.
Where have I found myself?
You trot down the hall, searching the portraits for any indication of the master of the house. Instead, all you see is yourself. The other faces have been blotted out in dark ink.
This is not my home, you realize with a shiver.
The further you venture, the clearer it becomes that someone lives here. Despite the manic decor, there is not a speck of dust or a hint of disrepair. Someone is here, and theyâre looking after this property.
You round the corner, acquainting yourself with a semi-familiar layout, and thatâs when you find him. Your husband.
Heâs hanging up another portrait with meticulous precision. This is a painting of you. It reminds you of the one your Riddle had commissioned. Only this one depicts you in the same decrepit fashion you saw before you were coaxed through the mirror.
This canât be⊠Do my eyes deceive me? Is this trulyâ
âRiddle?â
His hands fall away from the frame, and he turns to look at you. Ruby-red eyes widen in recognition and then delight. He swoops in like a falcon, covering the distance in quick strides to gather you in his arms.
âMy beloved! Oh, what wonderful fortune!â he cries, embracing you tightly. âYouâve come back to me! At long last, youâre here⊠Youâre really here in flesh and blood! Oh, my love, sweetest rose, welcome back.â
If you were to ever meet your husband again, you were certain heâd have an earful for you, a long lecture of societal and personal expectations husband and wife are meant to adhere to. But this Riddle isâŠhappy. He doesnât seem angry or disappointed at all.
Rather woodenly, you wrap your arms around him. âYouâreâŠnot cross?â
âWhyever would you think that?â He pulls away from you and runs his hands up your arms, as if to assess the authenticity of your appearance.
You stare at his face. He looks like Riddle. But⊠Well.
He doesnât feel like Riddle. Your Riddleâthe grey-eyed Riddleâwas awkward in his affections. He would never hug you so openly. He would never touch you without your approval first. He was considerate and well-mannered. Furthermore, he never called you by any endearing terms. You were always Lady (Name) to him.
Your hands close around his face to hold him still. âYour eyesââ
He blinks and suddenly the red was never there. âMy eyes?â
Am I dreaming?
âAre you certain this is real?â
He smiles. âYou must still be clinging to the vestiges of sleep. I assure you this is all very real.â
âSo youâre truly Riddle? My Riddle?â
âYour Riddle. Always and forever.â
Tears well up in your eyes. You sink to your knees. âOh, Riddle⊠Riddle, Iâm so sorry. If I had just come back sooner⊠If I hadnât been so scaredâI couldnât face you! I didnât want to. IâŠdidnât wish to see you suffering so. It hurtsâŠâ
âMy dearâŠâ He lowers to your height and brushes your tears away with his thumb. His eyes soften with an intense fondness. âHow fervently Iâve missed your voice. How desperately Iâve longed to hold you in my arms.â
âI canât fathom itâhow can it be?â you mutter, hesitant to touch him again lest he be turned to dust before your eyes. âYou⊠Youâre alive?â
âIâve always been alive.â
âBut youâyour condition! Youâve been ill. ItâŠâ You inhale a sharp breath. âYour ailment worsened when you married me.â
âDo you blame yourself?â Before you can answer that, he takes hold of your chin and tilts your head. âDonât. The fault does not lie with you. It never has.â
And then he fits his lips on yours in a kiss so sweet and soulful it momentarily rekindles your hope in romance. Shocked, you stumble back on the floor, but he just surges forward to continue kissing you. Itâs passionate and hungry; he nibbles at your lip and licks into your mouth, leaving you panting and scrabbling for purchase. You cling to his suitâthe same suit he was buried in.
He breaks away for breath, and you inhale mouthfuls of it. âWaitââ
Another kiss, this one longer than its predecessor. Your fingers curl into his shoulder. He pulls back.
âRiddleââ
He tugs your shawl from your shoulders in lustful impatience. You yelp when you feel his hands on your thighs, slyly sliding beneath your dark nightgown.
âRiddle!â You gasp, scandalized, and push him away. Breathing heavily, you yank the strap of your gown over your shoulder. âJust whatâs gotten into you?!â
âIâve missed you,â he confesses, gathering your hands in his. âIâve waited for your return for so longâtoo long! And now youâre finally here⊠Youâve finally come back to me.â
My Riddle was never this forward.
âYou must know I cannot give you what it is you want. Iâm dead inside, a tragedy your mother is all too keen to remind me of.â
A frown tugs at his lips. âUnfortunate as that may be, it does not offend me in the slightest and it shouldnât. I love you, with or without child.â He lifts your hand and places a gentle kiss upon the top of it.
You stare at him, horrified.
âS-Say that again, if you wouldâŠâ
âI love you?â He raises his brow at you, confused. âWith or without child, I love you. Always and forever.â
You drag your hand back, clutching it as if itâs injured. âI thinkâŠI might go for a stroll.â
He blinks back at you, one eye at a time. âOh! Allow me to accompany you. Itâs howling a gale out there. You would do well to change into attire fitting for the weather.â
âOf course. Iâd love nothing more than to walk through the rose gardens with you. I do hope they havenât started wilting.â
Riddle helps you up from the ground, drapes your shawl over your shoulders, and sends you on your way. You offer him a smile and turn to walk stiffly down the hall. The minute youâre out of sight, you sprint for the stairs, taking two at a time, and throw open the door to your room.
Your reflection meets you at the mirror. Without wasting another moment, you reach for her. Someone catches your wrist on the other side and tugs you through.
Youâre spat out in Riddleâs bedroom in a heap of tangled limbs, your heart in your throat. The mirror shimmers with the real you. When you press your finger to the glass it doesnât go through, but your finger touches its reflection.
âThat wasâŠstrange,â you whisper, drawing away. You find the locket pin lying inches from your foot and you scramble for it, hastily prying it open to check its contents. The photo and lock of red hair remain untouched. âIt was just a dream. A wild, whimsical terror.â
You rise to your feet and, after fixing the disturbed sheets, bid a final farewell to the room.
âRest peacefully,â you say, shutting the door behind you.Â
That was not my Riddle. My Riddle has never said he loves me before.
Following that night, you busy yourself with the curiosities of Riddleâs estate. In the three years youâve lived here, you were unaware the house had so many secret spaces. Hidden doors that open into narrow passages and stairs. Youâve never had any servants, so youâre not sure why Riddle would need any of this. The house has been in the Rosehearts family for decades. As the legend goes, it was burned beyond repair and rebuilt with a better layout. A safer layout, Riddle would tell you when you questioned the tale.
âSafer for what?â you mutter, peeling wallpaper back to reveal the door to a thin crawl space. Thereâs never anything sealed within these rooms, but their existence is proof enough. If not for servants, these passages were meant to house secrets. âDid he know about this? He must have.â
Would Mrs. Rosehearts know? Oh, but I dread the thought of wasting ink on that insufferable woman.
You lower to your knees and peer inside the crawl space. âHello? Is anyone home?â And then you laugh to yourself. âAre you hiding in there, Riddle?â
You receive no reply.
A Riddle with red eyes⊠I must have been so feverish that night, to dream a vision so crooked.
You stretch your arm inside and feel around for any hidden treasure. You expect to come away with cobwebs and spiders, not a leather-bound book.
âHuh⊠Perhaps Iâve been away from the manor much too long,â you mutter, sitting with your back to the wall. You open the book, wondering what its contents could be that would merit this treatment.
Books ought to be treated in the same manner we treat each otherâwith respect. They are filled with boundless knowledge, and they provide insight into fascinating wonders we may yet comprehend, Riddle used to say.
ââTo destroy them would be to destroy the wisdom they offer,ââ you say, finishing the rest of his quote. A smile pulls your lips up. âHe loved books. Riddle would never seal any away.â
You peel it open to the first page, where you find four unsettling words.
Property of Riddle Rosehearts.
Itâs a diary. Riddleâs diary.
Suddenly, the house is colder and unwelcoming, as if the very foundation disapproves of what youâve just unearthed from its bowels. Youâve never known Riddle to keep a diary. And yetâŠ
Tentatively, you flip through the pages. Itâs a log of his condition, you realize. He details his symptoms daily, every event outlined in neat, waltzing script. You werenât aware of just how morbid his condition was. At some point, though, he begins to catalogue other happenings.
Iâve coughed up quite a monstrous thing, he writes. I cannot fathom what it is, but it has the consistency of ink, almost. It is thick and foul in my mouth. It stains my sheets and colors my teeth. Next time it happens, I shall gather enough to test whether it truly is ink.
Then another page: I cannot employ servants because I fear he will tip poison into their ears. Thus, Iâve deigned to do everything myself. Iâve mustered enough strength and willpower to stand and cover most of the mirrors. So long as Lady (Name) stays awayâŠ
And another page: He is looking at me again, knocking at the mirror. Even as I write this, I must remain vigilant. You must wonder why I donât shatter the mirror and put an end to this madness. Rather than sever the connection, I fear it would only provide an opening into our world. I hear him every night just as the clock tolls out the Witching Hours. He speaks of a malice most concerning. It is tiring and I think fondly of submitting, but I must protect Lady (Name).
And the final page, penned just days before his death: I fear the worst is happening. I cannot continue to research the face in the mirror. It has rendered me too frail. He has been studying me in the meantime, following me through the glass. He is a perfect reflection now, an expert copy. Iâve no inkling what this implies, but I suspect it cannot be anything pleasant. Iâm going to seal my findings away with what little strength I have left so that it never falls into his hands. There must be some way to stop it⊠this infernal ringing in my ears⊠the blood filling my eyesâŠ
A dried splatter stains the page, obscuring whatever was left of his words. You leaf through a few pages, searching for a proper explanation.
The face in the mirror? A perfect reflection? What is all of this? Just what was Riddle doing while I was gone?
You find it then, a list of what he believes to be fact, all outlined in an organized fashion.
Evidence of Fact
It is confined within reflective surfaces. It cannot step out into the mortal realm (or so Iâve yet to witness), but it can follow through mirrors so long as you look into it. Though the original must remain intact.
It is most active during the hours of midnight through three oâclock in the morning. To be referred to from here on out as the Witching Hours.
It has my voice and my face, but it is not me. You must remind yourself of this when you feel yourself losing control: He is not me, nor is he the shadow I cast.
It sees with red eyes and reaches with nightmarish claws. (A devil, perhaps?)
The substance I have been vomiting ceaselessly is indeed ink, but the reflection in the mirror refers to it as âblot.â It is black and viscous. It reeks of rot.
It is undoubtedly after Lady (Name).
It calls itself Riddle.
You donât really know your husband. Youâve never known him, in fact.
He was shouldering such a heavy burden all this time⊠All for my sake.
You hold the diary close to your chest.
If what he writes is true, then what I experienced that night⊠It wasnât a dream but, rather, a supernatural occurrence. The reflection in the mirror calling itself Riddleâthat must have been the Riddle I met. The one with red eyes. For a moment, I almost thought it was my Riddle. You run your finger over the cover of the diary. If that thing is the reason my Riddle is deadâŠ
You donât dare think any further.
Riddle noted that Reflection Riddle is most active during the Witching Hours. If you follow that logic then the mirror should open up between midnight and three every night, allowing you to cross into a world that reflects your own. You wonder if itâs the same for the other side. If it was, wouldnât that mean Reflection Riddle could step out at any point and enter your world? You certainly hope he canât.
Morosâs Looking Glass, reads the bookmarked tome in Riddleâs study, a (thankfully) mirrorless space that grants you total privacy, is said to be a powerful mirror that connects the mortal realm with that of the spirit realm. It is said that mortals who look upon Morosâs Glass are bound for death and should tread carefully when they hear three consecutive knocks from within their home.Â
Not if but when. A certainty.
You turn to the chapter on Moros. ââGave people the ability to foresee their deathâŠââ you read, frowning deeper as the text goes on. ââMoros is a word meaning doom or fate. It is said that once you take Morosâs hand you can never turn back, for your death is already weaved into fate.â No escape⊠Could that Reflection Riddle be Moros? That might give reason to why my reflection looked so twisted.â
You slump in the chair and sigh. âIâm sorry, Riddle⊠I never should have left you. I should have stayed. Perhaps then we could have worked together to understand this.â
Gritting your teeth, you wipe furiously at your eyes.
All this time, he was suffering and I ran away. All this time, he was thinking of me and my well-being, and I ran away.
Before you can openly bawl in his study, you remember the notes in Riddleâs diary.
It wants me. To what extent, Iâm unsure. But if it truly does love me as it claimed⊠Surely it wouldnât hurt me.
You donât want to return to that strange world with its strange Riddle, but you need answers. If it killed your Riddle⊠You shut the book and place it back on the shelf.
You must stand tall and proud in the face of adversity. Do not falter.
Stringing the locket pin on an empty chain, you fasten it around your neck. That way, Riddle will always be close to your heartâa reminder that you are not alone. You rifle through your closet for appropriate attire, casting corsets and crinolines aside in favor of clothing that grants more freedom.
But I mustnât look suspicious, you think, debating whether you should wear a chemise or a longer gown. You pull a pair of loose-fitting trousers from a drawer next. Perhaps⊠Oh, this will seem so indecent! If Riddle were here, heâd advise against it. But these will allow for movement should I need to flee fast.Â
Seeing no other option, you choose the bloomers and a simple blouse, both in the classic color for mourning.
Ideally, I would prefer to never go back again, but I suspect Iâll be visiting more than once. Tonight, Iâll attempt to search for a weakness. There must be something I can exploit. A tension or a spot of blindness, perhaps? Thereâs that white space surrounding the manor. Perhaps I ought to try stepping outside?
You change in your room in front of a covered mirror and read through Riddleâs diary to refresh yourself on the foe youâll be facing.
When the grandfather clockâs midnight toll reaches upstairs, you hide the diary under your pillow and cross the hall into Riddleâs room.
I refuse to call that thing my husband, you think hatefully. You are not Riddle. You will never be Riddle.
You kneel before the floor-length mirror and press your palm to the surface. A cold hand pulls you through.
I must remember not to overstay my welcome. You lift your trousers to peer at the pocket watch tied around your thigh. It is fifteen minutes past twelve. The window closes at three.
Throwing the closet doors open, which is packed full of well-tailored dresses and skirts, you grab a long woolen coat and fit your arms through the sleeves. You slide your feet into a pair of low-top heels. When you admire yourself in the mirror, you spy your waterlogged reflection looking back. She vanishes in a blink.
Descending the stairs, you call out for Riddle. âI apologize for the delay. Iâm ready if you are.â
He pokes his head out from around the corner, a delicate smile gracing his pale features. Meeting you at the very bottom, he offers his arm.
âIâve waited years for your return.â He laughs. âI can wait a few measly minutes.â
Minutes? Does time work differently here? Every clock aside from the watch fastened to my thigh is stopped at Riddleâs time of death. Perhaps this worldâs sense of time is warped because of that. Or maybe Moros truly has no concept of timeâŠ
âPatience is a most admirable virtue, or so they say.â
âThey speak the truth.â He leads you to the door. âYouâve come at a wondrous time. The roses are still in bloom. Though, regrettably, most of them have already closed up.â
âWhat little is left, I will be sure to cherish.â You pat his arm and smile. âThank you for always taking such diligence to care for them.â
If there exists a reflection of Riddle, why havenât I seen my reflection? Surely she isnât just confined to the mirrorâŠ
The door opens and you brace yourself for the blinding white space. Instead, youâre greeted to the sight of a flourishing front yard. It looks nothing like your own, which leads you to wonder if Moros can only replicate the scenery within the house due to the limited field of sight provided by the mirrors. The rest of thisâthe gardens, the stone pathway, the hedgesâitâs his imagination filling in the blanks.
âOh, itâs beautiful!â You tug him ahead, your hand easily sliding into his. âTheyâre quite red!â
âArenât they just?â
âPositively beaming with color,â you exaggerate even though you canât see a speck of red. Everything here is black and white. The only red youâve seen so far is the red in his eyes.
You gaze at the iron gates at the end of the property. âRiddle, dear, have we always had those gates?â
âWe have.â His hand slides over yours. âTo keep beauty in and filth out.â
âFilth?â You look at him incredulously. âWhat sort of filth?â
âThose who think it wise to flout the rules. I will not tolerate such flagrant displays of disobedience.â He squeezes your hand. âIâm sure you understand, my rose. There is no greater peace than that which is attained through order.â
âAnd what of exiting?â
âYouâve only just come back to me and now you speak of leaving?â
âI wouldnât go alone. Do you not want to go into town? I quite like the circus.â
âYou have everything you need here.â He kisses the top of your hand. âWith me.â
So the boundary is the gate. Very well.
âI suppose thatâs true. There is no greater bliss than seeing you again after so much time apart. Why would I ever want to leave?â
âIndeed. You shall never leave,â he murmurs, smiling.
Riddle takes you on a tour through monochrome gardens, pointing out all manner of delightful flora. You voice your acknowledgement when itâs necessary, but your mind is elsewhere.
I should find his diary again. I donât believe I saw it on the desk when I came through the mirror.
You peer at Riddleâs face. He is not a fool. My Riddle was so bright. If Moros can replicate his physical form so seamlessly, then surely he knows of his intelligence.
âRiddle.â
âYes, my rose?â
âI love you, too.â
His eyes widen. The admission must have genuinely shocked him, for his grey irises explode with red. But then he blinks it away and theyâre back to grey. In these quiet gardens, he pulls you closer and presses a chaste kiss to your lips.
âAnd I love you. Most ardently.â
You smile and then you giggle. âWhy did I leave you in the first place? Itâs patently absurd.â
âA question I asked myself in cycles.â He drags his knuckle along your cheek. âCan the sea truly cure the morbs? Wouldnât it have been better here? What can the sea offer that I donât already have?â He clenches his jaw. âWhy would you leave? Why?â
âRiddle⊠R-Riddle, youâre hurting me!â
He comes to his senses then and gazes at his hand closed tightly around yours. âAh⊠Forgive me.â He loosens his hold and tries a relaxed smile. âYour arrival is most important. Anything that came before that is wholly insignificant.â
âOf course it isâŠâ
He must know of my trip from Riddle. Perhaps it was mentioned in passing. Iâm certain Moros doesnât have Riddleâs memories. Despite being reflections, they are still separate entities. Or so I hope.
You return inside on account of being famished. Riddle insists on preparing dinner, claiming heâs practiced tirelessly in your absence and has been awaiting a chance to boast his skills. You allow him to do that and, while he works in the kitchen, you slink upstairs to check the time. Itâs half-past two.
Just before you exit through the mirror, you poke around the room in search of the diary. It isnât there.
Perhaps itâs in Riddleâs room?
You refer to the watch once more.
I have time. Just five minutes and then I shall be on my way.
You creep over towards Riddleâs room and, slowly, so slowly, reach for the door. Riddleâs voice permeates the air just then, calling up to you from the bottom of the staircase.
â(Name)? Dinner is almost ready!â
You press yourself against the wall just in case he can somehow see you. âYes, thank you! Just one moment.â
Stuffing the coat and shoes inside the closet, you spare one final glance at the door before stepping through the warped surface of the mirror.
You emerge just a few minutes before three.
Much too close for my liking. You shut the pocket watch and run your hands through your hair. But that was enlightening. While not clear in its entirety, I understand the world Iâm grappling with just a scintilla better.
In the coming weeks, you travel between worlds to gather as much information as possible. Riddle receives you with immense adoration every time, seemingly none the wiser to your periodic disappearances. The last time you went snooping around the second story, you realized the rooms were mostly empty and Riddleâs bedroom was locked.
You write your findings down in the empty pages in your husbandâs diary: If the door is locked, he must know that whateverâs inside is of great importance. Therefore, heâs done well to keep it safe. Additionally, he appears to learn from my actions. When heâs startled, his eyes canât remain grey. Now itâs as if heâs anticipated the shock and has taught himself to keep the façade. It is a most peculiar act. No weaknesses to detail as of yet.
You return to Riddleâs entries once more. Surely Iâm missing something. There must be a weakness.
Briefly, you consider shattering the mirror. Riddle didnât test his hypothesis regarding this method. Perhaps nothing will come of it and youâll be rid of this menacing reflection. But then youâll never know why your reflection looks the way it does. Youâll never know what killed your husband. Youâll never know who Reflection Riddle really isâthough you certainly have your suspicions.
I must return.
When the clock announces the arrival of midnight, you step through the mirror. Only this time, when you step out of your room, Riddle is there and he doesnât look pleased.
âOh! Riddleââ
âWhat were you doing?â
âIâŠâ You shut your mouth and fish through your brain in an attempt to recall what you said youâd be doing last time you were here. âI was changing.â
He scrutinizes you with narrowed eyes. âInto your night clothes? Did you not wish to take a stroll?â
âOh, you must forgive me. I have been so weary⊠If it pleases you, perhaps we can have our stroll tomorrow?â You glance past him at his bedroom door and then reach for his hands. âShall we sleep together?â
Riddle watches your face a moment longer. The tension in his figure relaxes, and he eventually smiles. âNothing would make me happier.â
He guides you to your bed, but you stop him. âYour room. Iâm most comfortable in your bed.â
âIs that so?â
âVerily.â
For a moment you think heâll find some way to slither out of this, but then heâs pulling you through the door towards his room. His hand ghosts over the knob and it unlocks just like that. âI must warn you. Itâs not in theâŠcleanest condition. I admit it was a reflection of my mind in the wake of your absence.â
âIâm certain it isnât so terrible,â you assure, rubbing his arm consolingly. âAlthough⊠Riddle, if I may, what happened to me?â
âTo you? Why, you left.â
âYes, that is an irrefutable fact. But⊠It couldnât have been the morbs.â
Riddle smiles thinly. His eyes fog over with an unrecognizable emotion. âI thought I lost you,â he explains, his hand on the knob. âI was certain you would never return.â
âBut Iâm here now. Whyever would you think that?â
âYou died,â he says, his voice cracking. âA-At sea. You threw yourself into the sea.â
IâŠdid that? Truly? But then it makes sense. The water dripping from your reflection. Her tattered dress. The strands of seaweed. But why? Why would I do such a thing?
âThatâs why I could scarcely believe my eyes when I saw you. When you came back to me, perfectly whole and in one piece, warm and alive⊠I was so relieved. Iâll never let you go again.â
He opens the door and it becomes clear to you when you see a roomful of portraits and letters scattered everywhere. Your letters. Your pictures. Even your belongings. These arenât mirror reflections. These are genuine artifacts from your world. The breath sticks in your throat. All of the letters you sent Riddle while you were away, never to receive a single reply, theyâre all here, tucked away in their respective envelopes. And you know theyâre yours because your signature dots each and every one, each stamp pasted on by your careful hands.
Lying on the bedside table is Riddleâs diary, where the passage you first read must be penned. The one in which he notes how long heâs waited. How very soon heâll swap places with your husband and have you all to himself. How theyâve condemned him to this prison. They. Who is they?Â
You understand it now. The sticky substance you stepped on the first night. The reflection of the other you. The Riddle who you thought couldnât stand you and was having his silent rebellion disregarding all of your letters. It was the thieving reflection who crept into your world!
Your other self died so that you could take her place. And you know this is true because she is you, and in the midst of your melancholy back in your world you considered surrendering yourself to the sea.
âRiddleâŠâ
âSleep! Do pardon the dreadful state of this room.â He smiles and tugs you down onto the bed to tuck you in. âItâs late. Youâll never function properly if you neglect the moonâs call for bedtime.â
âRiddle!â You seize his wrist when he climbs into bed beside you. He blinks at you, one eye at a time. âWhoâŠare you, exactly? Youâre not my Riddle.â
He tilts his head at you. âBut of course I am.â
âNo⊠No, youâre not. My Riddle isââ you inhale shakilyâ âdead.â
His eyes rove over your features, flicking down to watch your hand curled around his wrist. He chuckles. âYou must be so tired, my rose. Sleep. Come morning, all of this will have been a daydream lived in a daze.â
He pats the pillow and you lower yourself slowly. He follows your lead, wrapping the both of you in the fluffy blanket.
âI have always been your Riddle. Always and forever.â
âRight⊠Yes. Yes, of course. HowâŠâ You swallow thickly. âHow foolish of me to think otherwise.â
You squeeze your eyes shut, hoping heâll inevitably fall asleep. The pocket watch tied around your thigh continues to count out the minutes. Youâve no idea how much time has passed, but the longer you spend here the slimmer your window of escape gets. And Riddle just wonât fall asleep! His eyes remain open, observing you as you shift in and out of faux sleep. Eventually, you turn your back on him.
I cannot fall asleep here. Iâll be trapped.
â(Name)âŠâ
Why wonât he sleep? Surely heâs tired⊠Do reflections feel exhaustion? They must!
â(Name)âŠâ
You force yourself to remain calm, contenting yourself with the fact that he has to fall asleep soon.
But then thereâs a hand on your arm, climbing up your shoulder like a spider on a web. His fingers drum along your sleeve.
âYouâre not truly sleeping, are you?â
His voice is right in your ear, and you can hear the twisted smile in it.
You roll over onto your back. Riddle blinks down at you, still smiling that sticky, self-satisfied smile.
âYou were anticipating my slumber, were you not?â
âIn the hope that we might rest together, yes. Are you not tired?â
âHow could I rest when I know youâre just going to slip away again?â He yanks the covers off and moves to grab the hem of your nightgown. In a panic, not wanting the watch to be revealed, you push him away, falling off the bed in the process. Landing with a thud, you pick yourself up and glimpse the time. Just ten minutes until three. You gasp and stumble towards the door.
âStop!â he shouts, reaching for you. âCome back here! Donât leave me!â
You yelp as something slimy coils around your ankle. You fall flat on your stomach, pulled back into the room without mercy. You thrash, kicking out blindly in hopes of untangling whateverâs found itself attached to your leg.
âUnhand me!â You grab at the door frame and pull yourself forward, grunting with the effort. âDonât touch me!â
âYou donât get to leave! Not when I finally have you!â
You turn to look at him and bite back a terrified scream at the sight of him. Heâs monstrous! The odious stench of death hangs heavy in the air. Thereâs that black substance again, oozing from his pores like an overfilled, soggy rag. Heâs dressed differently, too, in clothes that bring forth images of decapitated royalty. The inky crown on his head and the spade-tipped Medici collar only cement this imagery. His hands are splayed with razor-thin claws, and suddenly youâre brought back to the night of that ominous tap-tapping against the glass.
The tendril coiled around your leg, you now realize, is an ebony, thorny stem.
âW-What are you?â
He grits his teeth. âYour husband.â
You reach for the stem and, pulling it taut, bite down roughly. Blot spatters your maw and it tastes rancid, but you chew through in spite of the taste. Riddle hisses at you. You manage to sever it just in time. Another vine shoots out after you and you slam the door shut before it can ensnare you.
â(Name)!â he roars from behind the door, his voice deeper and angrier. âYou step through that mirror and Iâll tear you to shreds the next time you return! Do you hear me?! Iâll slaughter you!â
âI wish you luck in that endeavor because I wonât ever be back!â
The door is torn off its hinges then. When Riddle lunges for you, he narrowly misses your nightgown, instead grasping the chain around your neck. It snaps and the locket pin smashes to the floor.
âNo!â You swoop down to grab it, but Riddleâs already swiped it for himself. Looking between that and the mirror, you scream a colorful word and dive for the mirror just as the clock below chimes out the hour.
You somersault into Riddleâs bedroom, your heart pounding wildly in your ribs, and feel along your body for the pendant. It isnât there.
âNo⊠No, no, no! Blast! I canât⊠I need that locket!â
You whirl towards the mirror and this time it isnât your reflection peering back. Itâs that monstrous fiend!
He holds the chain up for you to see, grinning all the while. The locket twirls idly on the broken link. Itâs an obvious taunt: If you want it, come and get it.
Your fingers curl around an iron candlestick, but you stop yourself just before you can bring it down against the glass.
I canât break it. I need to get in, and he wants to get out. We both want something we canât have.
You scowl at the mirror just as Riddle vanishes, and then your reflectionâyour real reflection, broken and despairingâis staring back. Falling to your knees, you hold your head in your hands and sob.
The next few days trickle by like the seemingly never-ending rainfall outside. You pen countless letters to friends, Mrs. Rosehearts, even Riddle himself, but theyâre all ripped to shreds before you can sign them. You visit his grave, dressed in all black, crying behind your veil.Â
âWhat am I to do, Riddle?â you whisper, clutching your parasol to shield yourself from the winter sun. âItâs an impossible foe. There is no weakness to be foundâŠâ
Your choke on your sniffle. No weakness but me. He would do anything for me, would he not? And if he canât have me⊠At once, you shake your head. No. Iâm not going to resort to such drastic, harmful measures. In the face of adversity, I shall stand tall and proud. I will never falter. I will never waver. That monster killed my husband. I refuse to be cowed into submission by such malevolence!
You bend down and place your gloved hand over the soil. âI never did thank you, Riddle.â A small smile pulls at your tired, sleep-deprived face. âThank you for all that you have done. You may rest in ataraxy, for I shall put an end to the beast who tormented you in such unspeakable, barbarous ways.â
Smoothing down your skirts, you depart for the Rosehearts Manor.
After eating as much as you can stomach, you spend the rest of the day catching up on lost sleep. With your body and mind now refreshed, you approach the problem from a new angle. A physical altercation is impossible, and youâre certain it will be impossible to truly kill him. If you canât fight, then you shall talk instead. Riddle was a logical man. Though that monster will never be your Riddle, surely he holds some shred of logic.
And in the event that he canât be reasoned withâŠ
You touch the pointed tip of a knife and frown. Can I bring myself to wound the creature who wears my husbandâs face?
Even though youâre doubtful, you stow it in your satchel with the rest of your tools and trinkets.
This ends tonight, once and for all, even if it kills me.
You sit in front of the mirror and await the tell-tale chime of midnight.
When the mirrorâs surface warps and twists, you harden your nerves into that of unbreakable steel.
In the face of adversityâŠ
âBlast it! Iâll kill him,â you snarl and step through the mirror.
It is eerily quiet when you exit on the other side. The house is in shambles, as if a nasty storm has come through and torn up everything in its path. The wallpaper is peeling in thin curls, the portraits are hanging crooked, the mirrors are shattered, and blot paints everything in black. It drips from the ceiling like saliva from a muttâs mouth.
Swallowing your disgust, you tiptoe out into the hall. Riddle isnât in his room. In fact, there isnât much of a room to admire. The door has been thrown against the wall, and everything is tattered. It occurs to you that this Riddleâs love is wrong. It is not love. It is an obsession driven by the greedy desire to possess. You gather what letters you can salvage and stuff them in your satchel, even the ones from Riddle you never received.
What iniquitous meddling. To intercept our communication in such a way⊠You are nothing more than a parasite that must be snipped away.
Your journey takes you down the stairs. Youâre careful to avoid the blot sticking to the steps as you descend, gracefully maneuvering around it. The deeper into the house you venture, the thicker the air becomes. You pinch your nose and squint through the dark haze, pushing aside low-hanging branches and vines. Inky roses sprout from the walls, twisting towards you as you approach. You duck to avoid them.
Moros is waiting for you at the dinner table. Itâs set for two. Flowers twine around his seat. It looks more like a grand throne. Yours is much the same.
A Queen needs a King, even when both are destined to fall.
âRiddle.â
âIf you would, have a seat. I believe we have an exchange to make.â Your locket drops down in front of your face, dangling from a stem. You reach for it and it shoots back up towards the ceiling. âNo, no. Thatâs not how reasonable conversations are had, (Name). If you think yourself wise, sit down and listen.â
You scowl at him. âWhat do you want?â
âYouâre an intelligent lady. My counterpart fancied that side of you most ardently. He wrote about you often, spoke of your marvelous brain.â He rests his elbows on the table and props his chin on his folded hands. âSo you must already know what it is I seek.â
âYou⊠You murdered my husband.â
He slams his hand on the table. The plates clatter from the force. âI didnât kill him! He withered away of his own accord!â
âWhat did you do?â
âSit down.â
âWhat did you do?â
âSit. Down.â
âWhat in blazes did you do to him?!â
âI said, sit down!â Vines shoot out from the darkness. Youâre tugged into your seat and held still, posture perfect. A smile twists itself onto his ink-stained lips. âWas that so difficult?â
He waves his hand and more vines come down from the ceiling to grasp the cutlery. You watch as they cut a portion of whatever shapeless filth is on your plate. Refusing to comply, you keep your mouth shut.
âNot hungry? A shame. Itâs strawberry. You enjoy strawberries, do you not? Ah, and I suppose that husband of yours fancied them something fierce.â
âPleaseâŠâ You look at him helplessly, tears shimmering in your glossy gaze. âWhat did you do to my Riddle? Why did you hurt him?â
âTwo cannot exist within the same space. I was never going to be allowed to stay in your world with him around. He was already bound for the grave.â He chuckles to himself. âRather, it was quite fortuitous that you left for the sea. If you had stayed, I wouldnât have been able to work so efficiently.â
âSo youâyouâre the reason heââ
âMy (Name) left me stranded here in this hell, but you⊠Youâre perfect. Your love is pure and soft. You are the one.â
âSo what are you, truly? Youâre not Riddle.â
A flower unfurls before you, its petals drying your tears. He hums.
âYouâre mistaken, my rose. Who else am I if not the Riddle you cherish so dearly?â
âYouâre Moros, are you not?â
He tilts his head, and you can hear the audible crack of his neck.
âMoros, an entity of doomâof death. Riddle saw you in the mirror whenââ
âNot me,â he corrects. âHe saw himselfâwhat was to become of him, at least. He also saw you, here with me. This is the very outcome he was hoping to prevent.â Moros barks out a cruel laugh. âAnd look where it got him! A wooden bed beneath the soil. Oh, but I do understand, though. Youâre worth fighting for. Dying for, even. He loved you sincerely, but I shall love you perfectly.â
âYouâre a monster.â
âNooo.â He waggles a vine at you. âIâm your husband. Thereâs a difference. One is imperfect, a failure. The other⊠The other is better, an improvement.â
âOh, forgive me. A parasite.â
âNo,â he says, stressing the word. âTry again.â
âA fiend.â
â(Name), my patience is thin as a hair.â
âI will never call you my husband, Moros.â
The vines tighten their grasp just as his face reddens with frustration. His vermillion eyes flash dangerously. You wheeze as the life is squeezed from your lungs.
âS-StopâI canâtâcanât breathe! Please! R-Riddle⊠Riddle, please!â
At once, your flowery restraints retreat. He tries a smile next, but itâs tense. As if he could snap at any moment.
âThere you are. (Name), my rose, I must say, it is dreadful manners to call your husband by another manâs name. So dreadful, in fact, that it incites the cold-blooded rage in my very veins. If I wished, I could paint these walls in your red. If I wished, I could tear you apart, limb from precious limb, and string you up among my flowers. But I wonât because I love you, and it would cause me immeasurable grief to lose another (Name).â
âEnough prattling. I want my locket.â
âAnd I have told you before that is not how you negotiate, my dear. Proper etiquette at the table dictates that you must maintain respectable eye contact, and you must never slouch. Nor should you chew with your mouth open, and if you wish to speak you must not mumble or twiddle your thumbs. You must not whine like a petulant child either. If you wish to have your locketâand I cannot fathom whyâyou must outline your terms. I do realize youâve been away from your husband far too long, so perhaps he never taught you any manners. Under my rule, that shall change. Under my rule, you will be perfect just as I am.â
You tamp down a foul-mouthed tirade. âVery well. In exchange for the locket, I will give you myself.â
âIn what way?â
âIn any way you please, but you must first answer my questions. Truthfully.â
He eyes you dubiously. âWhat might those be?â
âCan you leave through the mirror?â
âI can, but only when youâre asleep.â
âWhatâs stopping you from existing in my world now that Riddle is gone?â
Moros smiles and the locket falls onto the table, right in front of you. âYour mourning ornament. So long as a piece of him exists in those walls, I am trapped here. As you can imagine, itâs immensely vexing.â
âAnd who trapped you here?â
âWhy, itâs been so long Iâve no recollection. Perhaps a clever witch or a simple mistake⊠I do so detest living within this dull looking glass.â
âSo even if Iâm to keep my locket, you wouldnât be permitted to cross over.â
âCorrect. But why do that when youâre already here? You can keep those measly strands of hair. I donât want your world if youâre not in it. So long as youâre here with me, I can stomach these colorless, glass confines.â
âThen⊠Youâll give me the locket and Iâll stay here?â
âIndeed.â
âAnd youâll release me? I wonât be imprisoned in thisâŠgrotesque garden of yours?â
âWill you flee? Ah, but I surmise you couldnât manage that. Not after three.â
âOne more question.â
He narrows his eyes at you.
âWhat happens if the mirror breaks?â
âNo further questions.â
âAnswer me! What happens if the mirror breaks, Moros?â
âThatâs not my name!â
âTell me, or else Iâllââ You stop yourself, lower your voice, and soften the anger in your face. âRiddle, dear, please⊠I donât want to argue with you.â
He studies your expression for a moment. âWhy do you wish to know?â
âRiddle assumed it would give you the means to free yourself.â
âWell, heâs partially correct. If Iâm to truly free myself, there must be part of me in your world, much like the hair in that locket. So that, even when the mirror shatters, I can slip out from the remaining shards and cling to that part of my existence.â His red eyes flick to your stomach. ïżœïżœïżœIt is a shame you cannot conceive. Even if you escaped my grasp, I could simply follow you if you wereââ
âEven if I could, I would never,â you interrupt, tone clipped. âNever. Not with you.â
âThen it is very clear where we shall live from now on. You must forgive the state of our home. Iâll be sure to tidy it soon enough. If weâre to live in perfect harmony, our home must reflect that, yes? You will learn to keep house so that it never falls into ruin.â
âYes⊠Yes, I understand. So⊠So may Iâthe locket?â
The vines holding you hostage slither away to the shadows, and your locket drops into your outstretched hands. You breathe a relieved sigh and pry it open to check its contents. Both are still intact.
Oh, thank you. Heâs okay. Heâs safe!
âNow thenâŠâ Moros offers an inky hand. âShall we?â
Tying the broken chain around your neck, you hesitate. Eventually, you place your hand in his. âWe shall.â
He sweeps you into an elegant waltz. Thick, gnarled roots shift to allow the two of you passage. He lifts you into the air just before you nearly trip over one of them. If you allowed starry adoration to shroud your sight, perhaps you would have been content remaining in this world. But this wicked place is far from a comfort. Even if your world is devoid of Riddle, it is still infinitely better than this one.
Moros twirls you effortlessly, a smile widening on his lips. âYouâve made me the happiest man, my rose. I am forever honored to have you here with me. Youâll never know just how long Iâve waited, day after day, night after night⊠Now we can be together forever.â
You cradle his pale face, swiping the murky ink that leaks from his eyes like tears. âForever and always.â
The musicless dance comes to an end. His hands rest at your waist, unwilling to truly part.
âWasnât that just grand?â
You nod along. âI apologize for my previous behavior. It was most unbecoming. Perhaps we might begin anew? Put this mess behind us, yes?â
âMy roseâŠâ Vines slither through the shadowy brush, coiling up your legs to root you in place. His grip tightens, and a manic glint darkens his gaze. âDo you take me for a fool?â
âYou are no fool, Moros.â Your hand creeps into your satchel, fingers fishing for the handle of your knife. âBut you were foolish to take the face of my Riddle, and for that you have brought misfortune upon yourself. Itâs unforgivable!â
You yank him towards you via the belts laced around his torso. Heâs caught by surprise when you crash your lips against his, whisked away in a rush of ardor. The vines slacken just so as he melts against you, pinned in place by the blade you thrust into his stomach.
And then youâre stumbling away, pitch-black blood stringing between your lips. You wipe the filth away with the back of your hand and turn from the dining room. With trembling hands, Riddle touches the handle wedged deep in his gut. Thereâs a flash of innocence on his face, a betrayal that carries a somber sort of pain. He looks pitiful for a second before that fearsome temper contorts his expression into something frightfully abominable. Weeds and roots thicken in retaliation, diving right for you.
âYou deceitful, ill-mannered cheat!â he fumes, tearing the knife from his abdomen. Blot spatters the ground in a grisly splat. When he flings the knife across the room, blot-blood follows in an arc. âDo you not understand that this is where you belong? This is your home. Iâm your husband and youâre my wifeâmine! All mine!â
âIâll never be yours!â
He grits his teeth. âYouâve scorned me for the last time! Get back here or I shall drag you through these hallsâdead or alive, with or without your head attached to your shoulders!â
You shriek when he, accompanied by a following of frightful flora, lunges after you. His claws drag against your arm, almost breaking skin, but you manage to shake yourself free, just barely avoiding the vines that reach for you with thorny fingers. He slams into the wall and the whole house seems to shake from the force of it. You catch him clutching his stomach just as you jump over a rose bush sprouting from the cracked tiles.
âStop! I implore you!â He reaches desperately, eyes wide and terrified. You almost hesitate, but then you remember this is the monster who killed your Riddleâwho is trying to imprison you in this corrupt cage. âYou canât leave! I forbid it!â
Shunning him, you bound up the stairs. A stem curls around the bannister and shoots out to seize your ankle, tripping you. Your chin smacks against the steps. Blood fills your mouth shortly after, and you realize youâve bitten your tongue. It hurts, but you must push through.
âYouâre stark raving mad!â You shake your leg free of the vine, but another captures your wrist. âNo! Release me!â
âOnce youâre in my armsâwhere you rightfully belongâyou shall learn proper discipline so that you conduct yourself in a manner befitting your station!â
Your eyes dart around the hall, searching for a means to escape. There must be somethingâanything! You canât let him drag you down these stairs. The moment your foot touches the floor, youâll never make it back up.
âYouâve yet to see how perfect weâll be, but in time it will become clear,â heâs saying, watching you from the bottom of the stairs. âSoon⊠Soon, youâll understand. Then we shall be wed and you will be mine for all of eternity. I shall employ any means necessary to ensure you remain here at my side, even if it means I must terrorize you only slightly.â
Scrambling with your free hand, you rifle through your satchel for anything useful. Your fingers brush the edge of a little box and the beginning of an idea sparks in your brain.
âI may not have done everything perfectly. Iâve made countless errors in my life and I will make countless more. Iâll never be what you want me to beâwhat his mother expected from me. But, if nothing else, I will right this wrong.â
You manage to loosen your other arm just enough to pull the matchbox free. In a wild frenzy, you grab hold of one and strike it against the surface of the box.
Moros lurches up the stairs, but youâre prepared. You kick him back down, your sole colliding with his face, and it brings you overwhelming delight to hear him groan in pain. Quite satisfied with yourself, you watch him tumble down the stairs, caught only by his weeds at the very bottom.Â
The flowers, vines, and roots retreat, shying away from the flickering flame in your hand. You shimmy out of the last one wrapped around your waist. Shrugging the satchel off, you offer the letters stuffed within an apologetic frown before dropping the match inside. The satchel and the now smoldering envelopes land right before Morosâs feet, smoke curling out from the flaps.
You hurry to procure another match and, just as he scrambles to put the first one out, flick it down the steps. The leaves and petals shudder in the heat. Soon enough, theyâll all be caught in a fierce blaze.
âNoâŠâ he laments, looking between you and the withering plants. âNo! No! No!â His gaze hardens, odium burning behind those malicious red eyes. âNot another step! Do you hear me?!âÂ
You do. You just choose not to listen.
You scurry the rest of the way, stumbling over your clumsy feet, and burst into the bedroom. Your sopping reflection is beckoning you forward with silent urgency. Seaweed hangs from her arms like a cloak. Her skin is bloated. In spite of everything, you trust her wholeheartedly.
A most haunting cry resounds from the hall. Itâs filled with indescribable agony, tinged with rage andâŠfear.
âDonât leave me! The world out there offers you nothing but misfortune and melancholy. Youâll never survive! You need me!â His shadow is stark against the wallpaper, illuminated by a gradually growing fire. âI canâtâwonât do it again! I refuse to be alone! I refuse! Iâm right⊠Always right⊠And yetâŠâ
Clutching the locket secured around your throat, you take hold of the hand offered in the mirror. She pulls you through for a final time just as another anguished scream pierces the air.
You fall out of the mirror on your hands and knees, chest heaving with exhilaration.
âI⊠Iâm free. Free from that monsterâs grasp!â You check yourself over just in case and, finding all to be well, breathe a relieved sigh. âItâs overâŠâ
A thump against the mirror startles you. You turn back to see a thin, spidery arm reaching for the glass. His clawed fingertips touch the surface, but they donât pass through. Instead, they tap a steady rhythm.
Clink. Clink. Clink.
Within minutes, heâs pounding a fist against the glass. You jerk away and hold tightly to the locket pin. It occurs to you that youâll never truly be rid of Moros unless you destroy him. He can still slip out of the mirror when youâre slumbering, even if only for a few hours.
You dread to imagine what wretched feats he may be capable of when you submit to the land of dreams every night.
So you lift the heaviest candlestick you can find and, just as the tolling of three oâclock calls up from below, smash the mirror to pieces. The last you see of Moros is his frightful countenance awash in firelight. He looks more like a demon than a replica of your husband, inhuman features elongated like taffy stretched too far.
Youâre not sure how long you spend destroying the mirror frame, but in the aftermath you allow the candlestick to fall from your hand. You deflate against the floor, gazing at the ceiling.
âItâs finally over. No longer shall we be tormented by that fiendâŠâ
You gather the shards and stow them in a box. Come tomorrow, it will be filled with rocks, locked and bound in chains, and tossed into the river.
For now, you climb into Riddleâs bed and, soothing yourself with the warm memories you have of him, slowly succumb to sleep.
Morosâs Looking Glass is no more.
âOh, if you could only hear his death wail!â you recount to Riddleâs grave over tea and biscuits. Thereâs a cup and plate set for him, placed just near his headstone. âShrill as a squall. I was so certain it might fill my ears with blood if it went on any longer. I should hope to never encounter another sound more thunderous.â
You hum around the porcelain rim. âIf you were with me today, I suspect weâd have a grand celebration. Only the victors delight in the secret spoils of a battle hard-fought.â
The sun is peeking out through feathery cumulus today. Warmed beneath the rays, boasting the locket pin on your breast, you donât seem so gloomy in your mourning wear. Rather, youâre hopeful. Riddle can finally rest.
âOh! I never did have the opportunity to recount my travels. The seaside is marvelous. Simply exquisite, my dear. Full of enchanting mystery. The sailors at port spin all manner of tales! I fear it may have haunted my head for the rest of my stay, for I was certain I saw shimmering tails out by the rocks. Ah, but these grotesque sirens could never hope to impress a jot of fear in me.â
Iâve endured far worse.
âRiddleâŠâ You rest your hand upon the grass, smoothing out verdant blades beneath your palm. âI adore you.â
A gentle breeze whistles through the churchyard. You smile.
If you strain your ears, you can almost hear his voice on the wind, reciprocating the sentiment.
Five Years Later.
At the bottom of the river, stowed away in a box with rocks, shards of glass have been laid to rest.
A single red eye blinks open in the dark, trapped within the reflective surface.
Hands bring the box up onto shore, where three children crowd around it.
âWhat youâve dug up this time?â the little girl asks, kneeling on the shore.
âItâs a treasure chest!â one of the boys exclaims.
âIs it truly?â
âLook, see!â The other points.
Together, they drop a particularly heavy stone onto the rusted, water-worn chains. They break apart seamlessly.
âBlast. No key.â
âSurely we can break it in?â
âLetâs give it a go.â
It takes some effort, but soon enough theyâve dented the mechanism. The box pops open, revealing shards of glittering glass. With a disappointed grumble, one of the boys lifts a chunk towards the sky. The sun catches it, reflecting its rays beautifully.
âNothinâ but mess. Worthless.â
âYa think? If we patch it up, itâll sell for a few shillings. I declare thee: Magic Mirror of Mystery.â He turns towards his friends and grins. âWhat do ya reckon?â
âThis isnât even worth a weekâs bread. Throw it back.â
âIt could be worth something small.â
âHmm. No. I reckon Iâll keep it. Letâs make it a gift.â
âWho for?â
âLady Rosehearts! Sheâs always givinâ us our share for survival. We gotta pay it back. Mummy always said you pay kindliness with more kindliness and youâll never go hungerinâ.â
âOh, thatâs marvelous! I shall make a necklace out of the smaller pieces! Itâll be so pleasing.â The little girl giggles in delight, admiring the shards sparkling in the box.
âAnd Iâll put the pieces together into somethinâ sturdy.âÂ
They exchange eager glances and then gather the shards, leaving an empty box in their wake.
#yandere twst#yandere twst x reader#yandere twisted wonderland#yandere twisted wonderland x reader#yandere riddle rosehearts#yandere riddle rosehearts x reader#yandere riddle#yandere riddle x reader
888 notes
·
View notes
Text
ROI (Railed On Investment)
Dreamcatcher Kim Bora x Lee Gahyeon x m! reader
12.9k words
A continuation of the Dreamcatcher Office series
---
Read on AO3
There are always three guarantees when it comes to working in the office: meetings will always be unnecessary and tedious, you won't have enough time in a workday to get everything done, and somewhere, Gahyeon is getting her brains fucked out.Â
Your favorite little assistant now has a brand new title and full-time responsibilities, some of which she fulfills without question. But the more things change, the more they stay the sameâwhen her insolent tone creeps up, or she crosses the line with that smart mouth. No matter how cutely she pouts or bats those eyelashes, you canât exactly let it slide, and you have to remind her about the chain of command, remind exactly where her place is.Â
Which is usually underneath your desk during a business call, with those perfect lips sealed shut around your cock while youâve got both hands atop her head to keep your assistant in her rightful place between your legs.Â
While Gahyeon may have a bigger paycheck and more freedom, she seems intent to exercise some of her former disobedience, thinking her new status can absolve her. Whether it be those tight little skirts a little too short, or work shirts a little too sheer, she seems determined to test every single ounce of the dress codeâlike it's more of a suggestion than a policy.
Thankfully, you don't have to deal with her alone, because the other half of your dynamic duo has to put up with her shit as wellâKim Bora. Her job description doesn't exactly involve babysitting an office brat, but sheâs always willing to dish out any necessary discipline is needed when your hands are tied up by whatever corporate bullshit gets thrown at you.
So that's why, when you return from a meeting with one of the overlords, with a stack of reports cradled under your arm, it isn't the slightest surprise to hear that certain someone whining and moaning all sprawled out on your desk, under no consideration for how loud she is when Bora has two fingers jammed in her wet cunt.
"Oh, hi boss, welcome b-back," Gahyeon murmurs, voice broken by the loud noises she makes echoing when you step back into your office.
"Yeah, welcome back," Bora greets with a sultry grin, her fingers all slicked up and dripping with that fresh, juicy nectar dripping all over the place. "This one, she's misbehaving, you know the drill. And so early too."Â
Gahyeon shoots an unapologetic glance over at you, and her skirt is all crumpled and slid up, panties to the side, heels kicked off and her feet all resting on the edge of the desk as Bora pumps her fingers in and out, slow and agonizing while you toss the reports onto the desk.
"Do tell me," you sigh, resting back in the comfort of your big office chair, staring down at this beautiful display of lewdness. And honestly, youâre not even sure you want to hear. "What did this fucking brat do now?"
Gahyeon shifts and squirms, each time Bora jams those two digits inside, twisting them slowly and curling right where she needsâpunishing and edging out the disobedience all at the same time, making sure there isn't an orgasm until she's earned it.Â
"That fucking skirt," Bora groans, eyeing her so disapprovingly. "Waltzing around like her ass cheeks weren't hanging out. Little slut wants people to see everything she's hiding."
"That's all? The whole office should be used to it at this point. Surprised she even had a pair of panties to show off today."
Bora offers a subtle chuckle, and she picks up her pace, keeping the same merciless rhythm. You do your best to relax while the room gets all that much hotter, with this blonde, needy girl writhing around helplessly with those hilted fingers pleasuring her.Â
"Look, I don't care if this brat comes in bare naked, but the higher-ups certainly do. Minji and Siyeon can only do so much, corporate just visited while you were in that meeting and gave me an earful."Â
"Maybe corporate should get a turn with her then," you tease back, watching as Bora draws her fingers all the way out, only for Gahyeon to struggle at the fleeting pleasure that vanishes in an instant, biting her bottom lip in annoyance.Â
"Really?" Bora asks, eyes widened in disbelief, and wipes those slick fingers along the inside of Gahyeon's thigh, spreading her pussy lips wide open for her lustful eyes to ogle at. "As much as we know she'd love to get railed by a room full of older men she's never met before, it's not the kind of reputation that we need around here."
"Fuck, Bora, please just make meâ"
"Shut the fuck up," Bora growls, staring directly at her as she smacks her palm against Gahyeon's clit several times in succession, a sudden squeal bursting from her loud mouth. "We're not done talking about you, slut. This is all your fault."
"My fault?" Gahyeon asks rhetorically, still shifting and squirming around as Bora drags the pads of her two fingers around the edges of her slippery entrance, avoiding Gahyeon's insistent pushes and buckles. "I didn't doâ"
"I didn't ask you for a response, did I?" Bora cuts her off instantly, flicking that sensitive nub hard, and drawing out an obscene groan while those toes curl and Gahyeon tenses up. Those fingers tease the poor girl relentlessly, barely dipping in for an instant, only to make a quick exit before you see the same deft fingers sink back inside, only to repeat the process again and again.
"Please," Gahyeon whimpers and begs. "I can'tâ"
"Can't what? Can't stop parading around the office like a whore? It's one thing to get bent over this desk on a daily basis, but that doesn't mean we want this pussy out for the whole floor. It reflects on our entire office. "
"Fine, I'll start dressing nicer, just fucking finish the job," Gahyeon tries to bargain, but Bora isn't having any of it, pushing her all the way back, so that her head dangles off the edge and those silky blonde locks cascade over the desk with her. She's so close, so agonizingly close, and her moans turn all wanton and whiny, that heat coiling deep, cunt aching for releaseâonly for Bora to slide two digits out right before she can hit her peak.
"What makes you think you're in any position to dictate that? Do you even know what dressing nice means?" Bora runs her hands up the needy girlâs blouse, before she settles on a spot in the middle of the thin white fabric. With one harsh tug, she rips it open, letting the buttons fly off as Gahyeon's generous breasts spill out, only secured in place by a lacy black bra that barely covers a fraction of that delicious chest.
And in a flash, Bora yanks the material down, so hard that it gives up a fight in seconds, her soft supple breasts spilling out completely free, jiggling slightly as the cool air hits her bare skin.Â
Gahyeon cries out instantly when Bora kneads those breasts, groping roughly as you're given a front row seat to how aggressively your trusted colleague handles herâhow tightly she squeezes the two luscious mounds, teasing those pretty nipples into stiff, prominent peaks.
"By the way, it's that time again," Bora says, continuing to play with Gahyeon's perfect tits while not so much as sparing a glance your way.Â
"Time for what?" you ask, as the fabric of your pants grows increasingly tight with how hot and heavy the action on your desk gets as she rolls Gahyeonâs swollen nubs, pinching harder and harder before she gives those tits a nice, strong slap that makes the girl yelp.Â
"Performance reviews," Bora murmurs in the middle of another slap to Gahyeon's other breast, pausing only to grope even rougher, getting two handfuls as they grow more tender with each passing second, every time a palm strikes the sensitive flesh, jiggling from the sheer impact. "Can't believe we're already on a month of being stuck with this brat.âÂ
âWhat are we even reviewing? All she does is get on her knees or spread her legs. Not exactly worthy of a promotion."
"Hey, I put a lot of work into these fucking blowjobs you get. And I always swallow everything that you give me unless you finish on my face," Gahyeon interjects before letting out a desperate whine once Bora slaps her tits once more.Â
"Shut the fuck up, brat," Bora hisses out, digging her fingernails into the supple flesh of Gahyeonsâs reddened breasts. "Being a cumslut is hardly an achievement. As much as we love ruining you, don't think we can exactly put 'talented at gagging on cock' on a report to corporate."
"That's called eager to please. Doesn't that count for something?" Gahyeon insists, but Bora doesn't exactly agree, or offer much respite, no, her fingers just pinch both nipples at once, earning a shrill cry that reverberates throughout your office.Â
"We'll see. What I write on this report depends on you," you say, finally standing up to relieve your painful erection that's been trapped in your pants for far too long. Within seconds, you've got the zipper down, clothes piling at your ankles and resting your entire shaft against her pretty face that rests off your desk. In the meantime, Bora keeps aggressively playing with those scrumptious, pale tits, not letting up for a single second as this desperate little toy laps her tongue along your length.Â
"Let's see how well you can handle this cock, hm?â Bora asks, smacking each of those tits in succession, causing such a beautiful ripple.Â
Gahyeon has nothing else to offer but more whines in response as those lips part in an instant, allowing your throbbing length to slide past that pout of hers, straight down the back of her throat with just one deep thrust. Both of her hands scramble to your hips, struggling for air as your shaft plunges into those warm depths with no relent. You do all the work, but sheâll gladly play her role, eagerly taking down every inch that you force down with a brutal, unforgiving pace.
To her credit, her eyes tell the story, how much she enjoys this rough treatment while they water with tears from having her nose meet your balls. Gahyeonâs choking continues on repeat while her dainty hands cling onto you, gagging and coughing as you pump her throat full to the limit.
Every single sound has you moaning in response, blonde hair all messy, her mascara running as she gurgles around your cock and savors every moment while her head dangles off your desk. Those fucking lipsâlips that look so good absolutely ruined and used, lipstick smeared everywhere along your length, lips that have one purpose, to bring pleasure.Â
"How's fucking that throat feel? Must be worth a few points," Bora chuckles while groping Gahyeon's breasts, fondling and smacking roughly with no remorse, watching with intrigue as you slam into her warm little throat that constricts so perfectly.
 Itâs hard to respond, when all you want to do is use this pretty mouth, savoring the pure bliss of those lips locked down around your length, ruining this face like itâs part of your daily routine.Â
Both you and Bora lock eyes as she offers a particularly vicious squeeze of those breasts, and Gahyeon groans around your shaft when the older girl slides down between those thighs to feast on her neglected cunt so ravenouslyâunable to properly voice her pleasure with your cock stuffed so far down her throat.Â
"This fucking mouth is worth all the trouble it gets into, godâit's the perfect fucking toy to dump a load into."
With Gahyeon's breasts freed up, you plant your hands on them, palming both roughly with your length stuffed all the way down, holding yourself there for this incredible sensation of warmth to make that throat bulge from the intrusion.
There's nothing quite like this as you fuck her throat nice and deep, losing yourself to such sloppy gagging as spit trails along her cheeks, the perfect encouragement while you keep your hands full of her pale tits.Â
âSuch a good fucking slut, so desperate for me to fuck your throatâreally want a good review, donât you?â Gahyeon makes every noise imaginable, gurgling out sounds of struggle and gargled gasps, all muffled through your balls slapping against her face. Every plunge past her soft lips makes your entire length disappear, working in unison with Bora devouring that sweet cunt, and you're not sure which sight is better as you roll and pinch her stiff nipples to accompany your ruthless pounding into her wet throat.
But like every fucking time, Gahyeon enjoys every second of itâall this saliva pouring from the corners of her mouth, choking on your length so dutifully, it's beyond pornographic.Â
An incredible display thatâs made better when you peer down your desk to see Bora working her cunt with her expert tongue, and you can only imagine how wet this desperate girl is from the sounds alone. Her hands keep a tight hold on Gahyeonâs creamy thighs, forcing them so wide as she alternates between swirling the tip of her tongue against her clit, slurping around it, or delving straight in her folds, coating herself in those sticky, messy fluids on endless loop.Â
And with the amount of juices that spill out, Gahyeon is absolutely gushing with arousal and anticipation, so impossible to contain herself as her loud moans stay entirely stifled around your cockâ
Only once you finally give her a breather, she gasps for air desperately, spit strung across her face as she stares up at you like the complete mess she is with this smile that spreads across her ruined features.Â
"If there's one thing she's good at, it's choking on your cock," Bora says in the midst of feasting on her soaking little cunt, head buried in between those thighs. Now, Gahyeon can finally let those moans out freely, as she strokes your cock inches away from her hungry little mouth, eager to get you back in that warmth as she succumbs to the stimulation.Â
But youâre not ready for her to have this treat again, focusing on those sore tits, tugging her nipples, giving them some slaps of your own to get them bouncing while your hard, aching cock hovers right above that saliva-covered face.Â
âYou like choking on this, don't you, slut? Even more than that spoiled pussy getting filled?"Â
"Of course, bossâI'd rather have this cock over any promotion," Gahyeon says so shamelessly, her parted lips a mess of drool that looks so perfect. The way Bora keeps devouring her dripping entrance makes her breath hitch in between words, those eyes so desperate and hungry through the tears. "Nothing's better than having a cock in my mouth and a hot load down my throat."
Thatâs the one thing she doesnât deserve right now, which is why she isnât getting anything but these light little slaps with your saliva slicked cockhead all across her face, resting it on her lips while she plants these desperate kisses that get you to groan.Â
Bora isnât as gentle as she sucks on Gahyeonâs clit so intensely that her entire body jerks up against the desk, all these messy slurps and greedy licks that make her pussy ache with need as she gets brought closer and closer, drawing out all of those pathetic moans and squeals in between.Â
"And to think you ever denied being a slut at one point," Bora mutters out while slapping that pretty cunt several times, making her sob and cry out with desperation. "The only reason you haven't gotten fired here is how good that pretty mouth is at making us cum.â Â
"Hey, I'm good at other things too," Gahyeon insists, voice shuddering. She tries to stroke you in order to get you back down her throat, but you're not keen on that idea, swatting her hands away.Â
"Tell us then. What else can you do, you spoiled brat?" Bora asks while her tongue laps slowly against her slick folds, up and down the length of her slit, testing her limits while you deny the chance to stuff her throat, smacking those lips with your shaft to gain some relief.Â
"Besides having you ride my face and emptying these balls? I make your coffee just how you like it every morning and take care of lunch every day. I file all the paperwork and keep things organized."
Bora just laughs. Like this is some grandiose task only she can do.Â
"So you do the bare minimum and expect praise for it? You think because we use this pretty body of yours that you should get rewarded?" Bora asks, her tongue prodding around, tonguefucking that quivering hole and slipping inside only for a brief moment of unearned pleasure that doesnât last.
"Fuck! Please, I'm so closeâ" Gahyeon cries out as she grips the desk's edge, bucking her hips in a desperate manner, but she's denied by Bora's harsh stopping, once again pulling away right at the worst time.
"What do you think, should we let her cum now?"Â
Itâs a question meant for you, despite having the same answer in mind. All this slick wetness around her pretty mouth looks so good as she keeps devouring the poor thing so mercilessly, she can't even respond with proper wordsânot that anything that comes out would convince either of you.Â
"Sounds like she really needs it,â you say, looking down at Gahyeon who lets out the most frantic nod. âSo noâshe doesnât get to cum until I wreck that pretty little pussy."
Bora shares your enthusiasm while you step out of your pants and boxers, kicking off your shoes and stripping away your shirt while Gahyeon stays completely helpless, no longer a part of this negotiation about when she gets to have an orgasm. Once youâre all naked, you take up Bora's former position at the edge of the desk, pulling her back by her thighs and keeping that useless thong to the side before admiring her dripping pussy just dying to be filled up.Â
"Have fun,â Bora says, with an adorable smirk across her pretty features as she stays put on the desk, getting her hands all over Gahyeonâs sensitive breasts, playing and pinching harder once you move back and tease that soaking entrance with the head of your cock.Â
"I think this is my favorite part of her performance review," you say while swiping the head along those messy folds, getting your cock wet in all the abundant arousal that spills out. Then you line yourself up with that beautiful pussyâand sink all the way inside Gahyeon, as your entire shaft disappears into that warm, heavenly cunt.
âOh my godââÂ
Her wet walls wrap perfectly, and you start off like you always do, pounding her needy pussy hard without pause from the get go, a sudden, relentless tempo that has her moaning out loud. And fuck, if it doesn't feel incredible, so hot and tight as slick surrounds you from every possible angle as you grab hold of those luscious legs and raise them high on your shoulders.
"Guess she really is worth the trouble, huh? That pussy is her only selling point," Bora says as your thrusts intensify, sliding in and out of that intoxicating heat with ease, your cock spreading Gahyeonâs wet pussy lips further apart as she gets taken just how she begs for. "So spoiled and greedy. You think just because you keep these balls emptied that you deserve a good review?"Â
"Y-yes, don't I work hard? Always willing to take this cock? Even up my ass?" Gahyeon asks, trying to get words out in the midst of each merciless thrust. Bora pays her little mind, and you can hear the laugh she lets out even through all the moans, getting her hands all over that soft skin as she explores all her favorite parts of that gorgeous body she has access to.
"God, listen to this cock hungry whore talk like she actually puts in work. Getting fucked in that tight ass is part of your job duties," Bora says, swiping her tongue flat across Gahyeon's nipple before nibbling. "Don't forget it takes both our efforts to make you actually useful."
All this scolding does little to deter Gahyeon's warm, greedy little cunt from swallowing you up all the way to the hilt, tightening so wonderfully when you bottom her out. It's so perfect the way she sounds, these needy moans spilling right out as she clenches so hard, desperate to never let you go when you pick up speed and pound away into the welcome heat of her tight cunt.Â
"Love your cock so fucking much, love the way it stretches me, just want to cum all over it," Gahyeon groans so desperately every time you snap your hips forward, not granting even a moment of respite railing her on your desk. Your rough thrusts make her breasts bounce beautifully, and Bora moves one of her hands down to stroke the younger girl's clit, helping bring her closer to that sweet release that sheâll do anything for at this point as she whines and begs for it.
"Not even a please? Where are your manners, slut? What do you say when a superior fucks your pussy like this?" Bora asks as her fingers work around that swollen bud, her voice silky and smooth as she savors the sloppy squelch of Gahyeon's hot cunt taking your entire length so well.
"Pleaseâplease let me cum, sir, let me cum on your amazing cock," Gahyeon whimpers out, and despite being denied earlier, your only plans involve giving her exactly what she needs to get thereâbecause nothing will pull you out of this slick warmth until you've made a creamy mess inside.Â
Youâre both keeping her right on the edge, and the face that Gahyeon makes, you can tell the floodgates are going to burst regardless if she gets permission or not. It only takes a few more sharp thrusts to hit just right, pounding that cunt hard enough to make her eyes roll back as Bora rubs her clit in these vigorous little circles that get her writhing all over your desk.Â
"Go ahead and cum all over that cock, you selfish little whore," Bora says, almost a demand as she kisses all across her neck and chest as Gahyeon tenses up. She takes your cock better than ever, absolutely helpless while you help bring her dangerously close to that needed release.
Itâs almost pitiful how she canât hold it any longer, not with the constant denial that's pushed her to the brink so many times, and not with the way you've got her folded in half, pounding so harshly from the start.
You give her a nod, and Gahyeon finally gets what she's so desperate forâtrembling in pleasure, that pretty pussy convulsing around your shaft like a vice as a delicious gush of wetness floods your cock. The look on her blissed-out face when she cums hard on your soaked length keeps your hips pistoning so greedily, your rough strokes keeping this climax hitting so hard she can barely breatheâ
Gahyeon just shakes and spasms while her cunt makes these violent twitches around your entire shaft, holding you hostage in place with moans that just build and build with every deep thrust.
"Fuck, fuck, can't stop cumming, please, sir, don't stop!" She repeats so loudly it's practically a sob, but she gets exactly what she needsâthis unstoppable sensation of wetness pooling beneath her, threatening to push you out with every tight squeeze of her slick folds as she spills everything onto you. Bora doesn't stop the assault on her sensitive clit either, coaxing out more and more nectar to fuel your thrusts while you pump that pussy through one long, unrelenting orgasm.
But as good as this feels, and god, does it feel greatâyou need Gahyeon all to yourself, even if it means ditching your lovely colleague who's done so much to help her get off.Â
Somehow, your cock pulls free, so, so glistening and dripping wet when she stares at it like a starved little slut. But before she can get any bright ideas, Bora is right there to claim you for herself, leaning over so she can clean you offâjust her tongue taking a slow, leisurely drag all up and down along the sides, licking you up before her lips take over.Â
"Heyâ" Gahyeon protests weakly, heaving through these heavy breaths. Bora ignores her, starting with a light peppering of kisses to the head of your cock. Then within seconds, she has that tongue swirling a bit more enthusiastically before wrapping her pillowy lips tightly along your shaft and descending all the way down, humming approvingly on your brat-slickened shaft.
Bora bobs her pretty head up and down, all messy and lewd, slurping up Gahyeon's arousal from off your shaft without even a trace of a gag as she takes you so abruptly into her warm mouth. Itâs more of a demonstration, the way she gets so deep, that all you can do is rest a palm on the back of her head while she goes to work, getting so sloppy within seconds.Â
Once she cleans you enough, Bora pulls her lips off of you, that smile absolutely filthy when drool spills from her satisfied mouth when she glances at Gahyeon, every bit eager to get all filled up again. "Do you want this cock inside your little cunt again or do I get to finish him off?"Â
Gahyeon can hardly speak, all sprawled out and still overwhelmed from her explosive orgasm, but manages a weak nod. So, without a moment of hesitation, you peel her off the desk, getting rid of this bothersome blouse and skirt, but not bothering with the rest. And then Gahyeon is all yours, at your disposal, in this flimsy little thong with her breasts still spilling out of her bra, all vulnerable and entirely desperate for moreâ
You don't even have to say a thing when she's turning around and bending over to show the view, squishing her bare tits against the wooden desk and sticking that tight little ass of hers in the air.
A better invitation canât possibly exist.Â
"Seems she knows her place after all," Bora says, leaning in to press a deep, lasting kiss to your lips, so you can taste the faintest hint of Gahyeon's arousal before stepping aside to let you work. You give this brat a loud smack on her plump ass, watching how that pale flesh jiggles deliciously in front of you while sheâs patiently waiting for the inevitable.
There's little time to waste, and even less time to tease as you sink back in between her cheeks, every inch buried back into that slippery, warm entrance, earning another loud groan when you slam back into her cunt.
"It's the only thing she seems to understand," you say, and grab those wide hips, thrusting deep while pulling her back onto your cock so forcefully that there's no way to ignore each vocal, lewd sound, the wet slaps and desperate whines filling the room.
Bora watches carefully, almost jealous she doesnât have the full view of how your cock slips out, lingering a moment between each relentless thrust, to plunge all the way back. Gahyeonâs mouth just can't stay silent, each breath more lustful and heavy as she devolves into an absolute mess her cunt so dripping wet with your cock buried as deep as it'll go, whimpering for more.Â
âFuck her harder, make sure she knows whoâs in charge. Wanna see you destroy that cunt,â Bora orders and leans in, your lips meeting hers once more, tongues intermingling while you donât let up pounding away, not giving her any mercy in the slightest. "Wish I could have that huge cock tearing me apart again, she can hardly take you like I can."
"Maybe I'll just stop fucking this brat so you can get a turn instead. My cock feels much better in your pussy than it does hers. Always does."
"Hey!"Â
Gahyeon starts to complain in between moans, but it's quickly cut off by your rough, repeated thrusts, your hips slamming her against your office desk to shut her right up. Itâs not the truth, because honestly, there is no comparison between these two perfect women, but youâre not going to let her know that.Â
"Tempting,â Bora says, pondering your suggestion. âWatching is just as good. I get to look at this pretty little toy take all your cock, how she gets used for what she is. But unlike this useless whore, I can be patient.â
The thought of Bora all spread out on your desk, tits out, bouncing away, dripping with sweatâit makes you fuck the blonde a little harder, much deeper, thrusting over and over again, the grip on those wide hips making bruises like youâre imagining the very thing happening.
âHer cunt is so fucking good, so tight. Guess she deserves this pounding and all my cum then,â you growl, plunging faster with no remorse into her wetness, making those full, plump cheeks bounce against your hips. But you hardly settle into a rhythm before you decide on a different direction, and pull her up off the desk, capturing her arms behind her back and taking a few steps behind to fuck her completely upright.
âOh my god, fuck, sir, just like thatïżœïżœïżœfucking use me!â Gahyeon pleads, her toes barely touching the floor as your full weight presses into her petite frame, arms hooked around her own to get your body pinned completely against hers.Â
She's so small compared to you, and from this angle you're able to hammer into her with no trouble, giving your hips total freedom and complete control. Thereâs nothing for this pretty girl to anchor herself to, so you make her take it all, using her body to the fullest potential as much as you want while those perfect breasts bounce and bounce with each pump.Â
"Bet she wishes her pathetic cunt could take this as well as mine," Bora giggles, and takes a seat back on the edge of the desk, hopping into position to be a proud spectator. Leaning back, she bites her lip and gets all comfortable in order to enjoy the view, skirt hiked up and panties down to her ankles, showing off that wetness as she spreads those legs, rubbing at that pretty cunt.Â
"Can't show up on time, but you can certainly be a good little fuck toy,â you say, keeping your eyes locked on how those perfect cheeks jiggle deliciously inches away. âThat cunt grips my cock so fucking hard, Gahyeonâdo you think you deserve for me to fuck a load into you?"Â
"Yâyes! So bad, yes!" Gahyeon desperately whimpers, nodding her head frantically, her feet struggling to stay grounded as your thick shaft pistons inside her slick warmth. Her bare ass meets your hips again and again, these hypnotic ripples a constant reminder of how in control you are over her.Â
"Forgot the magic word, slut. Maybe he should paint that pretty fucking face instead and make you walk out of here without any clothes or dignity left,â Bora says, and the thought is so enticingâbut requires restraint that you donât quite have anymore.Â
"Fuck, please, sorry, sirâplease use my little cunt and dump everything, every single drop of your huge fucking load. Please, sir, fucking cum in my cunt, god, pleaseâ" Gahyeon's a rambling, blathering mess, driven to the point of delirium from her pussy getting such a thorough pounding, and it just all fuels your thrusts for more.Â
"Just a worthless toy for us to fuck, that's all we hired you for isn't it?" you growl into her ear, the harsh sounds of flesh on flesh echoing with every harsh slam of your hips. You do everything to keep Gahyeon steady, filling her with every inch as those velvety walls take your length without protest, clenching hard and dripping all over your shaft.Â
"Y-yes, sir, please keep using me. Fuck this tight pussy just how you want, empty those balls, I'm only good at getting my holes filledââÂ
Bora's in her own world, plunging fingers deep into her tight cunt, mesmerized by the view and loving how she's the reason you're fucking Gahyeonâs brains out right in front of her. She loves itâthat power trip, and those pretty fingers take full advantage, letting her wetness guide them straight back and forth inside her until the slow squelches from deep within barely become audible over the slapping of your hips and your assistantâs desperate, whimpered pleas.
Gahyeon is nothing short of incoherent right now, tossing her head back against your body and screaming at the top of her lungs, begging you to fill her with hot, sticky cum. Sheâll get just that, but only when youâre readyâshe'll have to endure this pounding, getting her greedy little cunt used however you deem fit in order to earn her reward.
"God, you're so wetâsuch a messy fucking cunt. You really are nothing but a warm hole for this fucking cock, arenât you, Gahyeon?âÂ
Those words piped right into her ears are nothing new to this girl, only adding a new layer of arousal, making this greedy pussy gush around your shaft in the most irresistible of ways. You have to pause between thrusts, giving yourself a long chance to savor at how she drips so much all over you, those glistening lips parted to welcome such an easy entry when you bury yourself into balls fucking deep each time.
"I'm so wet because of your big fucking cock, sir.â Bora can only laugh in between the sinful sounds of her wet fingers sliding so deep within her slippery depths. Thereâs no discretion here in the slightest, nothing held back about how she lets her fingers dive straight to her core, stuffing that dripping cunt, trying to make up the difference for something far better.
"Look at her, little brat does know how to be formal," Bora says, continuing to fuck herself so shamelessly, like she's jealous of Gahyeon's current position."But I've got a better idea for your slutty mouth."Â
That smirk is all you need to get the message, as she removes her thong and zips her skirt right off, scooting back on the desk to lay herself bare and spread wide open. You bring Gahyeon right on over, letting go of her body so Bora can guide her head to that dripping entrance.Â
Gahyeon clearly doesn't mind as she plunges her tongue into Bora's cunt, circling away hungrily as you continue to ram into her tight little pussy. This gives Bora exactly what she wants, her hand settling on the back of the other girl's head. pulling so close to fully smother her between those creamy thighs.
"I want you to eat this cunt just like your job depends on it," Bora orders, getting a handful of blonde locks in the process, tugging without concern. "Because it fucking does."Â
There's not a moment spared when Gahyeon starts running her tongue up and down along the pink, soaked slit of your colleagueâs delicious pussy, and now youâre the one who feels a hint of jealousy. But when you have such a slick tightness surrounding your cock, all of that becomes a trivial matter, ramming into this useless little thing so harshly, to make those cheeks bounce and push her tiny frame against Bora.
"There you go, eat my fucking pussy while I watch your cunt get ruined. Fuck, he's going so hard, can you even handle him this deep?" Bora asks, and strokes a hand through Gahyeon's hair, keeping her thighs firmly locked around her head. And all Gahyeon can offer back in response is muffled cries as she laps up the sweet taste, eager for more.Â
Bora keeps her gaze on you, her bedroom eyes full of lust as she rides Gahyeon's pretty face, not letting up for a second. "Fuck, can't get enough can you?âlittle whore will eat my cunt until she passes out If i let her," she says, rocking her hips to grind against that eager mouth, indulging in the endless attention.Â
She's stuck right between you two, being fucked so senseless she can barely take it, desperate to lick Bora until her mouth goes numb. Through every thrust, sheâs lapping up those wet messy folds, savoring every drop she can of that slick sweetness. Gahyeon can hardly manage to breathe like this, suffocated by those perfect thighs, but that certainly wonât stop her from going to town on her boss.Â
And of course, you donât let up for a moment, maintaining the same relentless pace to sheathe your cock inside this needy fucking brat, every thrust forcing her right back into Bora who keeps her trapped right there.Â
"Such a perfect fucking pussy, taking every inch like a good slut," you say, smacking her ass roughly, again and again. Gahyeon clenches so tightly after each hit, each sting lingering far too long, those delicious cheeks turning redder with every strike. She's just a mess beneath you, moaning into Bora's pussy while giving her all, and when you push your thumb into her asshole, those muffled, frantic cries get even louder.Â
"This is where my cock should be, buried in your assâbut you haven't quite earned that privilege yet.âÂ
Your thumb slides in as deep as you can get, all the way past that tight ring of muscle, stretching her back entrance out before you pull out and leave it painfully empty, bringing back both hands to their rightful place on those sinful hips once again. Gahyeon canât even protest with Boraâs cunt pressed up against her mouth so forcefully, that blonde mess of hair clutched so tightly between her fingers.Â
âWho does that slutty fucking cunt belong to?" Bora asks in such a harsh, demanding tone, using the strands wrapped around her fingers like reins to bury Gahyeonâs face deeper against her pussy, practically fucking her face at this point.Â
And again, the only response comes in the form of pathetic whimpers while trying desperately to keep licking, these sloppy sounds loud and clear as Bora smears her own arousal everywhere on Gahyeonâs features, not even interested in the pleasure, but how utterly debauched she can make her look.Â
âNeed an answer, brat. Asked you a fucking question, didnât I?âÂ
Drowning in lust, Gahyeon barely manages to pull back, slurred speech following with gasps for air when Bora forces her mouth off for a moment. "B-both. It belongs to both of youâmy tight little pussy is just a useless toy for my bosses to use," Gahyeon mumbles out, nearly sobbing as you pound away, using her perfect little body for your pleasure alone.
"Good whore," Bora coos as she shoves that face back between her legs, that greedy mouth finding all the right ways to please. Gahyeon eats her pussy so hungrily, like sheâll simply die if she canât satisfy her, and when those moans slip out of Boraâs lips louder, it gets you throbbing so hard as you sink in repeatedly to her warm, slick entrance.Â
Itâs quite the sight. The tight grip Bora has on Gahyeon, her nails digging so deep into her scalp while this relentless onslaught of thrusts has you pumping deepâitâs just what that greedy pussy needs, and suddenly you feel a series of impossibly tight clenches, juices flowing all over your cock one more time.Â
"Greedy fucking slut. Did we even say you could cum again?" you ask Gahyeon, though it's not like sheâs going to let that deter her. And certainly, itâs not helping your own case when her pussy squeezes like this, begging for another release.Â
"S-sorry, sirâcouldn't help it, your cock feels too good," Gahyeon says, voice muffled between Bora's full thighs as you hammer into her like thereâs only one end to this. She licks through Bora's folds frantically to get back into her good graces, her messy, swollen lips latching on to her clit, slurping on it hard enough to get a loud gasp out of her.Â
"If only you worked as hard as you eat me out, maybe we wouldn't have such a problem on our hands,"Bora says, losing composure and letting her head roll back. There's only so much of this you can handle, Gahyeon between those succulent thighs while you rail her from behind with everything you have left to give.Â
One more smack on that plump ass, and the grip on her hips gets so rough as you reach closer to the end, forcing every inch in that slippery, slick cunt and brace for impact.Â
"Gonna fucking cumâyour tight fucking pussy is gonna make me cum," you groan out, digging your fingertips into her pliant, soft flesh as this overwhelming pleasure gets even stronger with each bury into that dripping wet heat. "God, I'm going to pump this useless cunt full, you selfish little bratâ"
"Fucking fill her, fill that little whore up with every single drop. Make that cum drip out of our pretty fucking toy.âÂ
You punctuate your words with a sharp, hard slam as Gahyeon crumbles yet again, unable to warn when another intense orgasm hits, causing that silky tightness to become impossible to resist. Bora isn't so far behind either, hips bucking up, thighs gripping the younger girl's head tightly, a muffled sound from where Gahyeon's buried face-first between themâthe only sign of a proper climax happening.
After these two collectively fall apart, you're the only one left standing.Â
So you indulge yourself, pumping so roughly into the warmth of Gahyeon, the endless tightness surrounding you in wetness as you give in completely, plowing into her until your final thrusts, those last few moments where you lose all control and fucking unloadâ
And with Gahyeon bent over so beautifully like this, mouth full of Bora's cunt, you fill her greedy fucking pussy to the brim, firing your release so deepâspurt after hot spurt until thereâs nothing left for you to spill inside. Through every lingering moment, your hips keep up with the mess youâre emptying into this cunt, fucking every drop inside as deep as it'll go, and savoring the way those slick walls demand you stay buried for as long as you can possibly manage.
Itâs a beautiful fucking picture.Â
"What a perfect little cumdump we've hired ourselvesâŠ" you murmur under your breath, all winded and exhausted as you ride out this intense high. Only when it dissipates do you slowly pull your cock out from Gahyeonâs messy cunt, filled to the absolute brim.Â
Youâre greeted with a beautiful flood of hot sticky warmth that leaks out, a white mess that trickles down the inside of Gahyeon's thighs, glistening in the warm office light. "Guess we'll have to keep her after all."
Breathing heavily, Gahyeon stays bent over your desk, about ready to collapse. She doesn't say a word as Bora gingerly rolls off the desk to shuffle behind her, running fingers through those beautiful, cum-filled pussy lips that plunge deep in her well-used entrance. Bora collects a taste, turning around and sucking her fingers so lewdly.
"You really filled her up nicely," Bora says with the faintest of grins. "She might even get a positive review if this keeps up."
Gahyeon stays collapsed against the desk, the wooden surface the only thing keeping her upright, body almost limp as she plays with her cunt so shamelessly for the pair of you to view. Bora leans over, guiding her head to kiss her, tongue delving deep into her mouth to sample just how delicious their mixed juices must taste. "What do you say when your boss dumps a huge fucking load inside your pretty cunt?"ïżœïżœ
"Th-thank you sir," Gahyeon manages to say, completely out of breath and still clinging onto the desk.
"So you do have some manners,â Bora says, returning behind Gahyeon, spreading her cheeks wide like she wants to see more of your load drip out. âWhat do you think, ready to work on that performance review?"Â
There's not much you have to say, running your hands over Gahyeon's sweaty, exhausted figure, tracing fingers up her spine that sends a shiver. "Employee takes orders well. Easily persuaded. Works hard. Especially when it comes to pleasing her boss with her tight fucking cunt..."Â
"Really don't think I can add that last part in,â you respond, giving Gahyeon one last smack on her ass that makes more cum leak out.Â
"Rephrase it then," Bora says with a cheeky laugh and pulls you close, giving your lips a tender kiss. "Guess we should get dressed before someone needs us. It's almost time for lunch."
"Can we order delivery again?" Gahyeon suggests as she hobbles over to collect her discarded garments, still struggling to hold any real semblance of balance. "I can barely feel my legs..."
"What do you think? Minji won't mind putting it on the company card again," Bora says.Â
"Why not? Pizza sounds good."
âPizza it is.âÂ
⊠âŠ
After an extended lunch break, youâre back in the office, sitting in your office chair ready to fill out Gahyeonâs performance review. Of course, Gahyeon can never sit stillâsheâs compelled to sweeten the pot, with her shirt tossed away and your pants down to your ankles, on her knees underneath your desk, bobbing her head so frantically between your legs.Â
You say little while most of your focus is on this report, filling in whatever you think fits, what exceeds expectations and what needs improvementâsomehow trying to keep it related to work while this needy girl slobbers on your length.
Bora's still there, perched up on your desk, legs crossed, using her phone to catch up on emails and indulge on pizza, paying no attention to whatâs happening while Gahyeon has every inch stuffed in her pretty mouth.
"Must you gag so loudly? You're distracting me,â you murmur out, and she glances over with a playful smile on those devilish lips, because you both know that's what you like to hear, despite your protest that falls on deaf ears. If only there were a rating for how good Gahyeon sucks dick, you ponderâyouâd give her full marks.Â
"It's part of the fun," Gahyeon giggles, barely pulling her mouth off your hard, throbbing cock, just to push those lips back down further than before, gurgling and slurping lewdly. "Besides, you love when I choke on your cock, don't you, sir?"
"Only because it gets you to shut up. I swear it's the only way I can get any work done here."
You glance over briefly from your computer monitor, observing as the other woman in the room completely ignores this depraved show that's going on only a few inches away. Without a single sound she reads over and replies to emails, taking a sip of cola to wash down a third slice of pizza. "Our Friday morning staff meeting starts at noon now. It's been moved up. Something about how Minji wonât be back from her business trip until then.âÂ
With her heels dangling freely in the air, Bora shoves the rest of her slice in her mouth before picking back up where she left off, continuing with her phone. Itâs not exactly subtle, the distraction she creates, her skirt short enough to catch your eye, with that pretty glistening pussy in plain view, knowing full well you can stare with her panties long forgotten somewhere in this room.Â
And while you try to create positives out of thin air for this report, the ravenous slurps and groans from underneath your desk somehow get louder in your ears, as the suction of Gahyeonâs soft lips sliding up and down your cock fight for your attention.Â
âDoes that mean I don't have to come in early?" Gahyeon asks, popping her lips off your shaft with a thick string of saliva still connected.Â
"Absolutely not," Bora says, irrationally annoyed at such a question. "You still have to bring us breakfast and coffee first thing in the morning. Don't even think about sleeping in."Â
Those messy lips pout as she forces herself back down onto your length, gurgling loudly and choking in a way you know is deliberately over-the-top, as if she's protesting through a mouthful of dick. You ignore it, and turn your attention back to the screen, because you need to add just the perfect closing remarks to this performance review, even while your favorite blonde fucktoy gets so sloppy and obscene on your throbbing cock.Â
You should get a raise for this alone, for finding praise for Gahyeonâs work where there is absolutely none.Â
"And wear something nice. You can have your tits out here all you want, but cover up when you're outside this office. I don't want to get scolded again because you can't hide that tight little ass of yours,â Bora adds, picking off a pepperoni on one of the last few slices left in the box.Â
Gahyeon can hardly reply coherently, and honestly, it sounds more like she's gagging on your cock just to spite Boraâshe's heard this exact lecture three times this week already.
"Maybe everyone at the meeting wants to see my tight little ass hanging out the back of the skirt I'm wearing tomorrow, have you considered that?" Gahyeon whines, lips making a trail of spit when she pulls off for only a second before she plunges right back down, lips down to your base so fast it makes your head spin.
Bora suddenly looks up with a grimace. "Are you getting uppity with me, Lee Gahyeon? See what happens if you show up at that meeting dressed like a slut."Â
With her sinful lips far too busy for a response, Gahyeon keeps that warm fucking mouth sucking away, because she knows better not to respond againâfor once. It's for the best, for both of you, because you don't have the energy to reprimand her now, as you finish the last few paragraphs. One click of the send button, and it's finished, straight to Minji whoâll look over it after she comes back from her trip.Â
Now that youâve checked that off, you push your chair away to give Gahyeon more room as she follows your cock, those wet lips working their magic without anything to get in the way of this heavenly blowjob.Â
"Gahyeonâ"Â
"Yes, boss?"
"Those tits, Gahyeon. Your mouth is great, really greatâbut show me what those fucking tits can do. Remind me why I just gave you a good review.âÂ
"Yes, sir. Of course." And with that she undoes her bra, letting the lacy fabric slide down her arms before tossing it across the room, straightening her back and guiding your cock between her heavy breasts. Thereâs hardly a moment to breathe when she squeezes them together around you, enveloping your cock with all this soft flesh.Â
"How's that, sir?" Gahyeon breathes out softly, looking for approval while she uses the warmth of those tits as they smother and massage every last inch.
The constant stimulation around your sensitive shaft is pure perfection, and even better is when she gets into this rhythm, bouncing those tits with her palms to fuck your cock between them. You lean back in your chair and sigh, enjoying this moment with your undivided attention.Â
"Fuck, this feels incredible. Those tits are fucking perfect, keep goingââÂ
Gahyeon smiles, and keeps the friction going, so soft and slick every time she spits in between her abundant cleavage, picking up speed to keep you trapped. The sight of this is more than enough to lose itâyour cock disappearing between those beautiful fucking breasts, feeling that heat every time Gahyeon brings her tongue back into play, so desperate to please you.
"Do I get to skip the meeting if I use my tits to make you cum?"
Bora scoffs at that, turning her gaze downwards, offended even at the thought of that question. Without even looking upânot that youâd ever have a reason when you have this view in between your legs, you don't dare answer the question. Because if you had the option, you'd absolutely tell her yes.Â
So with this devilish eye contact, Gahyeon keeps pumping her tits, sliding your cock between them like she'll do anything to get out of that meeting. But Boraâs not exactly too keen on being ignored, as she tosses her phone on the desk, watching how this show plays out.Â
"Are we bribing our bosses now, Lee Gahyeon?" Bora asks, crossing her arms with an icy glare that she flashes. "Such a bold little thingâlike you donât miss out on enough work as is. Did you forget we're both in control here? You're not the only one whose tits can make this cock explode."Â
Gahyeon isnât sure how to respond to that, lips quivering, realizing the look on Bora's face is more than a little serious. But that doesn't stop her from using her cleavage to the fullest, determined and focused, intent on doling out as much pleasure as you can take. In the corner of your eye, you can see Bora sitting up, tugging her shirt off, followed by her bra to display those equally wonderful breasts ready to get involved in whatever fashion she sees fit.
"Lee Gahyeon, you're done." And just like that, the younger girl comes to a halt, tilting her head in confusion.
"B-but, Bossâ"
Bora raises an eyebrow to that objection. "How many times have I warned you about talking back? Get off his cock. Now. I want you to clean this place up instead, itâs a fucking mess."Â
"W-wait, that's not fairâ" She looks to you for support, but youâre not interested in getting on Boraâs bad side. Sooner or later, all that defiance has a breaking point.Â
"Better do what she says, Gahyeon, you know how she gets. If Bora says you're done, then you're doneâ" Bora smiles at that, glad she has her partner-in-crime on her side for this. And reluctantly, Gahyeon eases off your cock with disappointment written all over her face, making you sigh a little when the warmth of those incredible breasts gets taken off you. She gathers up all the clothes scattered on the floor, moping a little when she steps out from the desk to put them back on.Â
"And organize all our documents when you're finished. Put them away in alphabetical order. By date too."
"Y-yes ma'am."
Bora takes up her former position, dropping to her knees as she reaches for your cock with the intention of finishing the job. One of her delicate hands rubs your thighs, ensuring the stiffness in your cock never leaves for a second. "Mine now."Â
"Little harsh, wasn't that?"
"Harsh? She's never going to learn otherwise,â Bora says, stroking your cock that only has one destination in mind. âEver since she's gotten fully hired, little bratâs gotten a little too comfortable getting what she wants. Or do you want her to talk back all the time?"
"Bora, you can't just send her off like thatâand it's not a competition."
"No, it isn'tâis it? Not when my tits are clearly bigger and better.âÂ
Youâre not sure how to react to that, but you donât get a chance to when she leans forward to slip you in her mouth, sucking on the head of your cock while continuing those tender strokes. Somehow, youâve almost forgotten how divine Boraâs blowjobs are, how soft those lips are, a stark contrast from the rough facefucking that Gahyeon always begs for.Â
"We both know I'm better than that useless slut anyway..."
Her mouth is so warm and wonderful, taking your cock deeper and deeper with each push until she can take every inch, filling up her throat entirely without any struggle, almost showing off to Gahyeon how itâs done. And yeah, she might give better head than your younger assistant, but there's always going to be something special about what that brat does that makes her irresistible, that innocent face mixed with all the lust in her eyes.Â
But then Bora pulls her mouth off your cock with a pop, and you know there's only one place left for it to goâtrapping it between her supple, equally impressive breasts, where the weight of them surrounds your cock in blissful friction. It feels just as good, maybe even better, as those sizable tits make your cock ache for more, the way Bora pushes them tight around you like she never wants to let go.Â
"So what about this? My tits feel just as good, don't they?" Bora asks, finding a rhythm as all this soft flesh squeezes around the entirety of your length. She's far too confident for her own good, that's for sure, but that's exactly what you enjoy about her, that and indulging in that hot, tight body of hers.Â
"I do love your tits, Kim Bora. How long has it been since I last saw my cock trapped between them?"
"It has been a while. Your cock looks so good between them," Bora sighs, smirking away as she keeps this tight seal of warm flesh between her cleavage, hands cupping them around your aching shaft. "Too long if you have to ask. But you're usually too busy eating my ass to ever want to fuck my tits."
"Can you really blame me? That ass is too perfect, Kim Boraâthe way you always bend over for me at the copy machine, what else am I supposed to do but bury my tongue inside?âÂ
She canât help but beam at the praise, as you lean back in your chair, relaxing to bask in the moment while Bora uses this glorious pair of tits to please your needy, throbbing length. But even while your cock gets perfectly sandwiched between them, you canât help but feel a little bad for Gahyeon, how quickly and forcefully Bora dismissed her from what she adoresâbut she only has herself to blame for that. By this point, she should know better not to push those buttons. Consequences have never been something Gahyeon is good at dealing with.Â
"See, you've barely missed her anyway. Not when these tits must feel so fucking nice," Bora coos, and picks up the pace just enough, bringing so much delicious pressure to squeeze your cockhead every time her breasts massage from base to tip.
âGod, that feels so goodâyou really need to do this more often.âÂ
âMaybe I will. Really takes the edge off work, doesnât it?âÂ
You nod, unable to vocalize anything else as you glance around the room to see what Gahyeon has doneâbut surprisingly, the place looks even cleaner than you've seen it, filing cabinet pulled out while she sorts through various papers and documents stored, floor free of everything that tumbled off the desk earlier.Â
Your attention isnât stolen for long, as your gaze turns back to those soft, heavenly breasts that Bora offers so freely, sliding your cock between them like itâs her job to make you moan. "Do you want me to make you cum like this? Cum all over my big fucking tits?"
An enticing offer to say the least, and not an thing easily to ignoreâso hard to refuse when she gives your cock this level of attention, but still, there's something more you want, something that even surpasses the stimulation these amazing breasts give. Bora senses your hesitation, slowing down her strokes while you work through the indecision. âIf this isnât doing the trick, then I can jump on your dick and finish you off that way. Bounce these heavy things in your face while you cum inside me?"
"You really spoil me sometimes, Kim Bora. That sounds better, much much better..."Â
"Well, you deserve to be spoiled after dealing with this ungrateful brat all week. Now you can just relax and let me take care of everything⊠I'll make you cum so hard you forget all about her." That's all the convincing Bora needs, giving your cock one more moment of this delicious friction as she pulls away and gets undressed, skirt dropping, panties gone within seconds.Â
Then comes your favorite partâyou get to witness the glory of that sinful, naked body, those enticing curves, with thighs so deliciously thick, and that glistening cunt, smooth and shaven, just ready to wrap around your throbbing cock until it milks you dry.Â
Bora positions herself to straddle your waist in your office chair, lining up your cock at her wet, warm entrance, more than eager to ride your length to completion. "Iâve missed this huge cock stretching me. Fucking brat had it for too long."Â
You chuckle. "Didn't I fuck you yesterday? In the copy room while Gahyeon was printing out everything for our meeting this week?"
"If it's been more than twenty-four hours, it's been too fucking long. That doesnât count.âÂ
Without giving you a moment to reply, Bora drops right down, taking your throbbing shaft to the hilt in one fluid motion, that hot, gripping pussy swallowing you up without warning. This girl knows exactly how to angle her body, shoving those beautiful breasts right into your face as she starts to move her sinful hips, riding your cock fast and hard right from the start.Â
âFuck, Bora, that tight pussy could make me forget my own fucking nameââÂ
Not a second gets wasted indulging in those perfect tits. While Bora gyrates her hips, you grab two perfect handfuls of that bountiful chest, sucking hard on each of her nipples, and savoring how incredibly soft her breasts feel in your hands as she slams down against you.Â
"Missed having this cock splitting me open. God, you feel so fucking good inside me. Such a good fucking stretch."
"And I missed having these perfect tits in my mouth. Nobody knows how to ride me better than you do, baby."
Bora smiles as she runs her fingers through your hair, encouraging this lavish attention with each eager bounce that has her tight walls squeezing with such a harsh grip. "Don't you forget that. I've missed creaming on your cock so much. Gahyeon got her way more than she should have, but you're all mine now."
All you can do is keep your mouth on those pretty, stiffened buds, flicking your tongue playfully along them as your cock gets so slippery inside this wet heat.Â
It's enough to take your mind off thingsânot just work, or Gahyeon, but everything, with the way her hips rock, giving you such a beautiful view of her breasts bouncing, now drenched in your saliva while your aching hardness disappears into her impossibly slick warmth.Â
"Fucking hell, Bora, how are you always soâgod, how is your cunt always this fucking tight," you groan out, burying your face into her breasts, relishing this wetness, the warmth, the absolute perfection that surrounds your cock as she rides you relentlessly on your chair.
"Because your cock belongs right here, buried balls deep inside me. My tight little cunt loves every inch of you, baby," she coos softly, bringing your lips to hers for the sweetest little kiss.
And no doubt Gahyeon can still hear every detail from across the room, cleaning away and reorganizing everything just as told without question, unusually quiet, the most obedient she's ever been. Maybe she's learning after allâor maybe she thinks sheâll get a turn again if she behaves.Â
But god, Bora feels so good on top of youâher hips driving down to take the entirety of your length with ease, her delicious bouncy tits right in your face. With every movement, her slick, warm walls grip your cock to milk another orgasm with an urgency that you've never seen before.Â
It's enough to make you throb and twitch uncontrollably, and you just can't get enough of these tits, switching back and forth, squeezing whatever isn't trapped in your mouth, completely drunk on lust.
"Fuck, you love them, don't you? Could suck and lick these things all day and never tire of them, couldn't you? Mm, fuckâlove when you play with them, when youâre so rough, it feels too good," Bora says, head tilted back and savoring your hungry mouth as you indulge in this feast, sucking her tits like youâre starvedâ
"You know me too well, Kim Bora. Your tits are just so addictiveâI could spend the whole day like this if I had the choice.âÂ
Part of you tries to stay as composed and dignified as you can, but it's harder than usual, with Bora always managing to stifle anything that leaves your mouth after each harsh bounce, spreading warmth and wetness everywhere along the way.
"Who says you don't get that choice? We'll just cancel that stupid meeting with the team tomorrow so you can play with my perfect fucking tits, and pump as many loads inside me as you want."
"Don't tempt me," you say in between lewd slurps of her swollen tits, before you sit back just to take in the view, enjoying the show that her delectable body so graciously puts on display for you.Â
"Since when has it ever been hard not to tempt you?" Bora questions, and youâre in no position to give a proper answer when she buries you to the hilt, those thighs crashing down against your own and working tirelessly to find the spot that drives you absolutely mad. She gets so wild with those hips, and the bliss is incomparable to how Gahyeon rides youâher determination to prove a point, that she'll always be superior in every aspect.
"Fuck, you ride my cock so fucking well, Boraâthink I'm about ready to burst." And with a coy, knowing smile, the pace gets out of control as Bora rides without grace or decency, hell-bent on making you cum as fast as she can. It's just a constant slap of her bare ass against your lap, impaling that needy pussy repeatedly to make your balls tense up with every tight clench.
âGood, thatâs what I love to hear. Cum inside, need you to blow a fucking load right in me. Fucking fill me up, you know this is where your cum belongs."
You can't do anything else at this point, hypnotized by how Bora bounces on your cock, those gorgeous tits right in your face. And if that wasnât enough to deal with, her perfect sopping cunt squeezes so hard, desperate to finish you off that thereâs no way for you to hold onâ
The heat becomes too much, and you can't help but reach out and grab that plump ass, digging into the flesh and groaning in complete delight as you wait for the unavoidable to take over.Â
"Gonna fucking cum in you, god, your pussy feels too fucking good," you growl, and that just encourages Bora to drive down faster, picking up the pace with no signs of stopping, on a desperate mission to bring you to completion in the swiftest, easiest fashion possible. She lets out a slew of filthy moans, hands on your chest, and you're torn between wanting to look into Bora's eyes, or gaze at those heavy tits that jiggle in sync with her deadly hips.
âUnload it all, babyââÂ
There's not even enough time to make a decisionâall you see is Bora smiling wide as she takes one last rock of her hips that sends your cock over the edge, and you finally explode inside her with a deep groan, flooding that hot cunt with so much thick, sticky cum. Each buck of your hips helps that load flow free, spilling it all and painting her insides white as her walls milk every drop for all it's worth, desperate to coax out everything left in your balls, every last spurt until that pretty cunt overflows.
When sheâs wrung everything out of you, Bora's more than a little breathless. Her hips still move to claim all your seed as she steals a heated kiss from your lips, arms wrapping around your neck. You just stare at her, at the sweat dripping down her neck, eager to take a taste while you drag your tongue up and down to do just that.Â
"Knew I can make you cum better than that dumb blonde slut,â she says, and all that heat from her filled cunt makes you throb with oversensitivity as her hips slow down, bouncing in your lap so lazily.Â
"You're cute when you're jealous."
"Jealous? I'm not fucking jealous. How could I be? I'm so much better in every goddamn way, including fucking you," Bora snaps back, brushing the hair away from her face and shifting back a little, making you wince from how sensitive your spent cock is inside her.Â
"You're not wrong. But you're still jealous, Kim Bora."
"Whatever, as if I could be threatened by a useless whore who'll cum on anything she's given." Bora's never been good at hiding her anger, getting all snappy when you tease her just a little. But also, she canât help but love what youâve spilled inside, wanting you to get a good glimpse. So rather gingerly, her hips lift up, letting your shaft slip free, as this thick, creamy mess oozes out, right above your lap with your combined fluids.Â
"Gahyeonâ" Bora says, as she shifts focus in her direction, only now noticing how spotless and organized everything looks as she hops back up on your desk, legs spread wide to display your load still leaking out.Â
"Yes, boss?" she replies eagerly, glancing over with wide, anticipating eyes, as she stands at attention and awaits another order.Â
"Stop what you're doing and come clean my cunt up. That's all I'm willing to let you have."
"Right away, ma'am." Of course, only when she gets the chance to taste your cum out of Bora does Gahyeon not give a modicum of attitude, so quick to stop her tasks, falling to her knees right in front.Â
Without delay, she dives in, and Bora sighs softly when Gahyeon laps up the cum that flows from her messy, wet slit, pushing her tongue inside to seek out more. Because she knows this is her only chance for your seed, and she can't miss it for anything.Â
"Good girl... so you do know how to follow orders. But only when they're beneficial, hmm?â
Thereâs nothing but a satisfied hum when Gahyeon swipes her tongue back and forth between Bora's creamy pussy lips, making sure none of that warm load goes to waste, as she uses your taste for an incentive to finish the job. Bora is still a bit exhausted, those heaving breasts still gaining your attention as she sits patiently with her legs parted, watching Gahyeon lick every inch of her clean.
"Alright, enough. That's all you get," Bora says as she pushes her away, shutting her legs, and Gahyeon immediately pouts with those lips soaked in cum, eyes narrowing. "What do you say, brat?"
"Thank you, boss. You're so delicious."
"Better thank him too, most of that came from his balls." Gahyeon quickly shifts her focus towards you, eyes looking so bright and innocent, as if she's waiting for another chance to dole out her gratitude.
"Thank you, sir. May I?" she asks, eyes right at your shaft, and you let out a little nod. Gahyeon scoots over closer and takes your cock back in her mouth, so shamelessly without a second of hesitation.Â
"So fucking greedy. What are we going to do with you, Gahyeon?" Bora shakes her head, chuckling out loud as Gahyeon cleans up the excess seed and your throbbing shaft all over with a hungry tongue and hollowed-out cheeks, sloppy and loud, slurping with purpose.
If youâre not careful, you know sheâll try to make you cum again, despite Bora trying to limit her indulgence, but you donât even care about any sensitivity when she looks so good on your cockâlips so fucking pouty and eyes pleading.
"Stay right there, Gahyeon. You stay right fucking there until I say otherwise," you order her, making her eyes go wide as you grab the back of her head, burying yourself to the hilt to keep your cock nestled in her throat. Gahyeon complies without protest, being the perfect cockwarmer as she lets your shaft rest in the cozy embrace of her throat, completely stuffed, so quiet and just obediently holding in place, tongue laying flat to let you relish in the warmth.Â
"Good fucking girl," Bora giggles, and those deep, pretty eyes of Gahyeon look right at you as your cock holds her tight throat open. She does her best not to move, this pleased look on her face every time you throb inside, staying nice and hard between those hungry lips. "Keeping that mouth full is the only way to stop you from complaining."
Gahyeon certainly makes a pretty picture like this, struggling to contain every ounce of desperation, unable to move or talk. Her lips stay pressed up against the base of your shaft as she stares right up at you, like she needs a hot mouthful of cum to fill her belly like itâs the only thing thatâll settle her down.Â
"What do you think, feel like taking the rest of the week off and fuck our gorgeous, needy assistant at your place?" Bora asks, and leans over to take advantage of the view, looking right at those thick fucking lips wrapped around you as you resist the urge to use her mouth to ease the frustration sheâs caused. "How does that sound, Gahyeon? You want that dick stuffing your holes all night, don't you?"
"That's not a bad idea," you say, to which Gahyeon nods as a sign of agreement, muffled sounds from her stuffed lips just enough to get a smile out of you when your thumb reaches over to wipe drool off her bottom lip. "Think I'd rather pound this brat's ass all weekend than go to another fucking meeting."
"Even better." There's a big smirk on Bora's face, running her fingers through Gahyeon's blonde locks. "Is that what you want, slut? Want this thick cock to stretch out that pretty little asshole of yours? Make you scream without having the entire office hear what a huge whore you are?"
After you ease Gahyeon's mouth off of your cock, she inhales deeply before finally responding, lips glistening from saliva as she smiles brightly. "Fuck, please, sirâit's been so long since you've put that big dick in my assâso fucking long."
You both know there's no truth to those words; hardly a day's gone by that you haven't slid your cock into this girl's asshole, while she's staring outside your office window, or the bathroom mirror after you've buried your face in between those plump cheeks. Regardless, you'll let her maintain this little charade, let her get the anticipation going in hopes of more.
"Let's get going then," Bora says, getting back on her feet as she looks around to find her clothes scattered everywhere, only bothering to put her skirt and blouse back on. "Minji might not like us missing the meeting, but there's no reason she can't reschedule. We've got more important things to take care of."
"So no meeting? Really?" Gahyeon responds, this adorable giddy little smile on her face while you slip your pants back on, fastening your belt and shutting down your computer.
"No meeting. Instead, I get to ruin that pretty little asshole all weekend and fuck the attitude out of you."Â
"Good luck with that," Bora laughs, walking over towards the door to grab her purse. "But if you get tired of dealing with the brat, I can just sit on your face so you get a moment's peace."
âYou really do spoil me, Kim Bora," you laugh along with her, watching as she does her best to put on a presentable appearance, leaving her shirt with one button unbuttoned just to make sure her cleavage is out in full display. "And Gahyeon, gather your things, make sure everything's locked up, then meet us downstairs. Don't keep us waiting."Â
"On it, sir."
"Oh, and don't forget the paddle, Gahyeon. Should still be in the same drawer," Bora says, shooting a big grin before disappearing out your office door with you slowly following behind.Â
"Of course, boss."
Youâll deal with however Minji chooses to reprimand you on Monday, but for now, you've got Gahyeon all to yourself with Bora coming along for the ride.Â
Thatâs all youâll worry aboutâno reports, no deadlines, and no meetings, just the two most gorgeous girls you've ever laid eyes on spending the entire weekend in your sheets.
#dreamcatcher smut#kpop smut#gahyeon smut#girl group smut#reader insert#male reader#kpop fanfic#kpop fanfiction
921 notes
·
View notes
Text
Your one-stop shop of finding every single one of my Kinktober/Flufftober 2024 stories with summaries! All my stories are posted on AO3 so click HERE if you want to read them there! đ„°
âË⥠â DAY 01. Cooking Together (Alastor x Reader)
In which you finally agreed to accept Alastor's invitation and cook his favourite dish together.
âË⥠â DAY 02. Fuck Machine (Vox x Reader)
Rating: 18 + || MDNI Vox decides to introduce a new toy for you to use for his viewing pleasures.
âË⥠â DAY 03. Sensory Deprivation (Alastor x Reader)
Rating: 18 + || MDNI Alastor's shadows ensnare and overwhelms you in a wicked game of dominance, leaving you breathless and craving for more.
âË⥠â DAY 04. Sharing Secrets (Charlie x Vaggie)
Vaggie stands by Charlie's side, offering comfort and hope, all while hiding a secret that could change everything between them.
âË⥠â DAY 05. Dubious Consent (Valentino x Reader)
Rating: 18 + || MDNI In a desperate bid for love, you give everything to Val - your body, your heart and...Your soul.
âË⥠â DAY 06. Anniversary (Vox x Reader)
Rating: 18 + || MDNI As desire and vulnerability intertwine, you realize your connection is far more than fleeting lust. With confessions of love, you embrace a deeper bond, choosing Vox again and again.
âË⥠â DAY 07. Confession (Alastor x Reader)
Alastor reveals his feelings the only way he knows how - radio broadcasting.
âË⥠â DAY 08. Massages (Alastor x Reader)
You had a terrible headache, but luckily Alastor knew what to do to help ease away your pain.
âË⥠â DAY 09. Cockwarming (Alastor x Reader)
Rating: 18 + || MDNI You didn't mean to displease Alastor, and now you were going to make it up to him by being his good little cockwarmer!
âË⥠â DAY 10. Fuck or Die (Lucifer x Lucifer)
Rating: 18 + || MDNI Lucifer accidentally cloned himself by messing around with his new contraption. The clone took half his soul and was killing both of them. The only way to fix this? They need to fuck.
âË⥠â DAY 11. Ritual (Alastor x Reader)
You and Alastor had a ritual when you fall apart into pieces. He will always pick you up and put you back together, no matter how many times it takes, no matter how long it takes.
âË⥠â DAY 12. Voxflix n' Chill (Vox x Reader)
Rating: 18 + || MDNI Vox wanted to flip the script on you and let you take the charge. You, incredibly coded to be a submissive, tried your best. Besides, how hard could it be to take the lead in the bedroom?
âË⥠â DAY 13. Threesome (Alastor x Vox x Reader)
Rating: 18 + || MDNI What shall Alastor and Vox do to you so you learn your lesson from being an insolent brat? Well, the answer may involve a joint effort from the both of them.
âË⥠â DAY 14. Foursome (Alastor x Vox x Lucifer x Reader)
Rating: 18 + || MDNI Alastor, Vox, and Lucifer wanted you to choose between them. Vox decided to make it a little competition between them. May the best dick win.
âË⥠â DAY 15. On Camera (Adam x Valentino)
Rating: 18 + || MDNI Valentino loved the human design, but after so many years of dodgy sequels and remakes, he wants the original - the original man. Or in other words, Adam is down for anything as long as Valentino agrees to call him the Dick Master.
âË⥠â DAY 16. Blackmail (Valentino x Tom Trench)
Rating: 18 + || MDNI Tom Trench. He is a somebody.
âË⥠â DAY 17. Oblivious Love (Alastor x Reader)
Heart palpitations after death? How curious. In which Alastor doesn't realize his own feelings until it's too late.
âË⥠â DAY 18. Sex Toys (Vox x Reader)
Rating: 18 + || MDNI Vox started to treat sex as part of his "to-do list." Unimpressed, you boo-ed him mid-fuck.
âË⥠â DAY 19. Shower Sex (Alastor x Reader)
Rating: 18 + || MDNI Alastor has rescued you from the Vees, but you didn't smell like him. Well, this won't do. This won't do at all.
âË⥠â DAY 20. Branding (Alastor x Reader)
Rating: 18 + || MDNI Alastor knew that you were a taken woman, and yet...yet, he wanted a mark of your love to him, so he hands you the knife.
âË⥠â DAY 21. Infidelity (Alastor x Reader)
Rating: 18 + || MDNI You know what you are doing is wrong - and yet, you continue to welcome Alastor into your arms while your husband remains blissfully unaware.
âË⥠â DAY 22. Hate Fucking (Adam x Reader)
Rating: 18 + || MDNI You hated him. But, fuck, you didn't hate this.
âË⥠â DAY 23. Costumes (Alastor x Reader)
Rating: 18 + || MDNI Even though you knew Alastor hid behind countless masks, layering them one after another in your presence, it was in those rare, intimate momentsâwhen he let the facade slip, when he entwined himself with youâthat you realized, despite the pain, the betrayal, you would still choose to stay by his side.
âË⥠â DAY 24. Rejection (Adam x Valentino)
Rating: 18 + || MDNI Adam, a wretched sinner cast down to Hell, finds himself penniless and lost in a world of filth. When he crosses paths with Valentino, who dangles a tempting deal before him, Adam wonders - he's already hit rock bottom, might as well fall deeper. A Companion story to "On Camera," told from Adam's POV.
âË⥠â DAY 25. Jealousy (Alastor x Reader)
Rating: 18 + || MDNI Alastor owns your soulâhe owns you. So why, then, does he find himself aching when your laughter, your smiles, your warmth arenât shared solely with him? Bound by the unspoken, you and Alastor tread an endless, delicate line. The feelings that burn between you remain unvoiced, holding you in an eternal danceâtwo souls walking side by side, desperately close yet never truly touching.
âË⥠â DAY 26. Obsession (Alastor x Reader)
Rating: 18 + || MDNI Despite it all, Alastor loves you. This is love. It has to be.
âË⥠â DAY 27. Status Gap (Vox x Reader)
Rating: 18 + || MDNI You and Vox had just started to explore a serious relationship, or so you believedâuntil one explosive fight left you both locked in a silent war, fuelled by stubborn pride. Days stretched by as neither of you made a move to reconcile, leaving you heartbroken yet determined to finally let go and move forward. But just as you began to find your footing without him, Vox made it clear he wasnât about to let you slip away that easily.
âË⥠â DAY 28. Rough Sex (Alastor x Reader)
Rating: 18 + || MDNI You are a strange girl with questionable tastes, longing for a connection that won't be met with scorn. Alastor's rough handling melded pain and pleasure in a way that exhilarates you, that makes you feel that it was okay to be unapologetically yourself.
âË⥠â DAY 29. Sub/Dom (Alastor x Reader)
Rating: 18 + || MDNI Alastor strikes you a deal. He allows you to fulfill your debased desire once, and in return, you quit your job for good.
âË⥠â DAY 30. Naked/Clothed (Alastor x Reader)
Rating: 18 + || MDNI Thirteen times. Thirteen times he'll push you past the edge until you can finally beat insomnia. Too bad for Alastor, that's not how you fix insomnia.
âË⥠â DAY 31. Cockblock (Alastor x Reader)
This blasted, cursed fiend will be the death of Alastor. But - it was worth noting, Alastor was certainly not competing for your attention. That would be...preposterous.
âšïž You've reached the end!!!! âšïž
đ Art by @peach-flavored-flambe đ
#hazbin alastor x reader#hazbin vox x reader#human alastor x you#alastor x you#alastor x reader#vox x you#vox x reader#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel#alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel fanfiction#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor the radio demon#vox smut#hazbin alastor smut#alastor smut#adam x valentino#adam x y/n#adam x reader smut#adam x you#adam x reader#lucifer x you#lucifer smut#valentino x tom trench#valentino x adam#valentino x reader#hazbin hotel valentino#vox x reader smut#hazbin vox x you smut
317 notes
·
View notes
Text
#best fresh feet insoles#comfortable shoes on feet all day#branding#sneakerhead essential shoes#eco friendly shoe insoles#eco-friendly sneakers us#marketing#scented shoe insoles#outfit#packaging
0 notes
Note
I used to work nights at a gas station. never smoked cigarettes but I had to learn the wall so that customers didn't get pissed that I didn't know the difference between a bensons and hedges premium lux light 100s and a benson and hedges ultra light smooth 100s (one is light green and the other is light light green). I saw a lot of people smoke a lot of different things. Lots of 9-5ers that smoked things that smelled like the insole of old boots, marlboros and whatever cigarette gave me the vibe of being the diet coke of the wall. young people gravitated to menthols, those camels with the mint in them and shit. older ladies, the kind that look like they'd flog you for fun, they liked whatever brand we had that resembled the refill for a pen, the thinner the better--usually virginia slims. People that looked like they either worked a trade or went to hardcore shows smoked american spirits, orange or yellow or whatever the fuck the colors were. sometimes the black pack, but only a few. The potheads bought our swishers, them and the people who wandered at night. they'd always break them open in the parking lot and throw the tobacco on the ground, pissed off my boss but he was always up his own ass.
When I see your blog I'm reminded of those days, when I was alone at night watching green light at the intersection with no cars going through. One time I stood in the middle of the street at around 3am, because I could, and there weren't any stars I could see, felt like I was in a world that hadn't loaded in yet. There's a pack of camel wides in a drawer in my room from those days, I bought them for the end of the world. maybe one day I'll show you.
I'm glad you sent this to me, this feels so personal and beautiful and I felt a fluttering in my stomach as I read along.
I hope someday you can show me them too.
736 notes
·
View notes
Text
Book 7, Chapter 7, Episode 111
(MALLEUS APPEARS AGAINSD ASHJDD SADLSDLADSJKASD)
Ortho: "No way... Brother, do you really think that black haze is "Ortho"?"
Ortho: "No! You have to leave this place quickly! You can't get caught by that black haze!"
Ortho?: "Don't think of anything anymore. Iddy, you're just tired from too much gaming... You should get some sleep."
Idia starts falling asleep, but the real Ortho keeps shouting for him not to. But still, he falls asleep and gets transported into a dream within a dream...
Idia: "... Wha, I... Why am I in ceremonial robes, in the courtyard?"
???: "Is that person over there Shroud?"
OH MY GOOOOOD HE'S HERE, HE'S HERE! IT'S IDIA'S CEREMONIAL ROBES VIGNETTE SDAIDIODSA AWOOGA AWOOGA
Malleus: "So it is Shroud indeed. ... What is it? You look like you've seen a ghost."
Idia: "Ma, Malleus... What are you doing here?"
Malleus: "What ever do you mean... Is the entrance ceremony not about to start very soon?"
Idia: "Eh? Entrance ceremony?"
Malleus: "Haha... You seem to be half-asleep. Much like our dorm's Silver.
"Hm? Wait. Hasn't the entrance ceremony, like, ended months ago..."
Malleus: What are you saying? You are to be housewarden today. It's your first entrance ceremony as one."
Idia: "Is... Is that right?"
MALLEUS IS GASLIGHTING IDIA OH MY GOD LOL
Malleus: "What an odd fellow you are. Well then, let us go to the Mirror Chamber together. It would be quit an improper decorum indeed for third year housewardens like us to be late."
Idia: "Why do I feel like I'm forgetting something important..."
Suddenly, something explodes from afar!
Idia: "A, a ball of light is floating in the sky... Is that, a meteorite?!"
Idia: "Wu-wuh, what the hell! Is it hurtling towards me? Is it?!"
THIS IS SENDING ME TO DEATH OMFG! HE HID BEHIND MALLEUS! I CAJKKLDASDS A IDIAAAAA DHISDASIOJKLASD
Malleus: "That thing... is something "I do not understand"."
Idia: "Wuh-what, what? How are you so calm?! We gotta run for it!"
Idia: "If that thing hits us, even you'll get K.O.'d in one hit!"
It keeps approaching them, so Idia tries to cast a magic barrier out of desperation. It doesn't do shit though and still causes another explosion.
"I hope the program that "erases all data in all devices in an emergency" works properly..!"
IDIA IS THIS REALLY THE RIGHT TIME TO HOPE YOUR BROWSING HISTORY GETS DELETED WHEN YOU DIE OH MY GOD.
"......... Uhm? I'm, I'm alive?"
???: "Soul Signal Tracking complete. Target acquired."
Ortho: "Thanks for waiting, big brother! I've come for you!"
Idia: "Eh?! Who r u?!"
He sees STYX's emblem on Ortho and asks if he's a brand new mecha suit made by his mom. But then he notices that the thing called him "big brother"...
Ortho: "I'll explain later. Stand down, big brother."
Ortho: "There's a scary guy glaring at us."
Malleus: "What is the meaning of this, Littler Shroud."
Malleus: "You are not supposed to exist in this dream. How did you get in here?"
Ortho: "Ahaha! Didn't you say it yourself, Mr. Malleus Draconia."
Ortho: "I'm like a ghost; just an intangible electronic data. Do ghosts need a reason to phase through space?"
Malleus: "Heh... Hahaha! I applaud you for surprising me twice."
Malleus: "However, the fact that you have intruded in my castle not once, but twice..."
Malleus: "IS PURE INSOLENCE. MECHANICAL DOLL!"
Malleus: "AWAY WITH YOU, FOOL!"
#same mechanic: you gotta survive for 5 turns#you can't damage him#twisted wonderland#ventique rambles#malleus draconia#idia shroud#ortho shroud#twst book 7 spoilers
332 notes
·
View notes
Text
âââŠââ âI donât see no point in blaming you, If I were you Iâd do me too.â âââŠââ
word counts: 1,2K.
âSomething about me, got you hooked on my body. Take you over and under and twisted up like origami.â
warnings: 18+ minors dni, grammar, f*buddy!abby, college!abby, some angst, jealousy, toxic? idk, smut.
next part here: hart to get.
Abby sighed peacefully as she watched you search for your clothes with satisfaction. It shouldnât have happened, not again. But itâs always been complicated, you couldnât resist her. âIt wonât happen, ever againâŠâ you said. âWe were supposed to talk.â
Abby chuckled and sat down against the headboard, all sweaty and breathless. âYou donât have to leave right away.â She looked outrageously good, standing by the bed and putting on some boxers. âWeâve already had this conversation two weeks ago.â
âItâs different this time.â you responded, eyes bright and cheeks still flushed. âIâm trying to moveâ Listen, Iâm seeing someone whoâs really nice to me and I wonât let anyone ruin it.â Abby scoffed, unconvinced. âItâs over.â
âSureâŠâ Abby mumbled, approaching you. âYou shouldâve thought about that thirty minutes ago.â you sighed. âCome onâ Donât you think itâs cute how we always end up having sex, itâs almost an addiction.â
And there it was: Abby Andersonâs damn cocky smirk. You hated it as much as you secretly loved it. The blond seemed too amused, increasing your annoyance as you looked away, searching for something else to focus on rather than the womanâs abs.
âItâs over, Abby.â you repeated quietly. âI mean it.â You sounded unsure, tormented by your own words as you looked back at her beautiful face. âWe canât see each other anymore, we shouldnâtââ Abbyâs eyes narrowed, hands reaching to grab yours. âPleaseâ Donât.â
Abby frowned as you pulled away. âWho is it?â You could feel the womanâs sudden irritation and frustration growing towards you as she waited, arms crossed. âTell me!â
âItâs none of your business.â Abby nodded, threateningly. âWeâre not together, youâve made it clear, many times. I donât owe you shit.â you trembled as she stared at you silently.
She chuckled. âYouâre gonna have to explain to your little girlfriend how you ended up with a brand new hickey.â you glanced at the sensitive bruise in the mirror and rolled your eyes. âDonât even start, because I donât recall you complaining about it earlier today. In fact, you were begging me to fuck youââ
âSeriously? Youâre insufferable!â you groaned embarrassedly and headed straight to the exit. You had one weakness: her. Obviously, Abby knew about it and never missed an opportunity to remind it to you.
She reacted immediately, right hand leaning on the wooden door as you tried to open it, slamming it shut. She moved it down to your wrist, spinning you around to look at you with concern.
âWhere do you think youâre going?â she asked quietly. âOhâ Don't you remember what happened to you, the last time you tried to run away from me? At this party, in the bathroom?â Abby radiated so much confidence, insolence and charm. She didnât even know how much it affected you, thank god. âShitâ You came so hard on my fingers, you couldnât even walk properly afterwardsâŠâ
âI donât know what youâre talking aboutâŠâ you responded, flustered and annoyed, glancing at the womanâs mouth. Of course you remembered, the suffocating heat and the obscenities still fresh in your mind. âJesusâ Fuck you.â you murmured, craving the blondâs touch again. She looked too good, too sinful to be true.
Abby smiled. âBeg me.â She wanted to give in as much as you. It was consuming, almost unbearable. You stared at each other with need, too stubborn to let the other one win. âDo you really think anyone else could fuck you this good?â You felt weak and vulnerable as you stumbled back into the door like an idiot. âTell me.â Abby leaned forward, trapping you against it. âCome onâ Answer me.â she murmured near your ear.
âIââ you swallowed hard, throat dry. âWe hooked up.â you admitted timidly. The blond frowned and snorted, confused. âI hooked up with herâŠâ
âYou did notââ Abby huffed, teeth clenched. The blondâs eyes hardened and narrowed into slits as she stared at you with disappointment. How could anyone else see such a vulnerable side of you? You belonged to her. âYou fucked someone else!â she shouted, stomach twisted in jealousy.
âCome onâ Are we really gonna pretend you havenât been messing around with anyone else behind my back ever since we started to hook up?â you asked. âWhen we first met, you had a different woman in your bed every singleââ
âTell me.â Abby demanded. âHow was it? Did you enjoy it?â The bitterness and the undeniable tension turned you on. Usually, you were the jealous and possessive one. Youâve had to sit and watch Abby flirt with an enormous amount of women for the past months, itâs the blondâs turn now. âLet me guess, it didnât feel as good as it does with me? Soâ Thatâs why you decided to come here tonight, because no one understands your body better than I do.â
You chuckled at the womanâs assumptions, in denial. It wasnât bad but not great either, the real problem was that you had thought about Abby the entire time. She was right, it was an addiction. She lived in your mind rent free, constantly obstructing your thoughts and feelings on a daily basis. It pissed you off.
âIt drives you nuts, doesnât it?â Abby huffed and smirked, she enjoyed your audacity way too much. âI meanâ Think about it, I had sex with someone else, someone else touched me.â Abby remained silent, delighted as she pictured herself spanking the attitude out of you. âSomeone else made me scream, made me theirsââ
Abby hummed as you moaned pathetically, the blondâs hand wrapped tightly around your throat. She loved how miserable you looked in this exact moment, only for her. âWatch your mouthâŠâ Abby warned as she pulled it closer to hers. âOr Iâll shut it down myself.â
âLike she did.â
Maybe you shouldnât have said that, maybe you went too far, on purpose. As soon as the words left your mouth, something switched inside Abby. The conversation turned into a heated argument which led to an animalistic make out session: skin flushed and bruised, curses and obscene ideas shared as she pressed you against the sheets once again. Abby held the headboard with one hand and slammed into you hard and fast, the blondâs messy braid falling to the side.
âShitâ Abby.â you moaned between choked breaths, Abbyâs hand moving to your thigh and holding it tight as you wrapped your legs around the womanâs waist.
âLook at youâ So beautiful and all spread out for me.â she said and slowed down. âThis is exactly what you wanted, isnât it?â And then, she almost lost control as you whined with pleading eyes, wanting more. âHoly shitâ Youâre gonna be a good girl and let me ruin this pussy all night, arenât you?â
âYes.â you moaned in pure bliss. âPleaseâ Abby.â
Jesus Christ, Abby was gone. She wanted to eat you alive, she had never felt so attracted to someone before: you looked like an angel with the nastiest mind ever and she loved it so much. You screamed and wrapped your arms around her broad shoulders as she slammed deeper and deeper into you. You pulled the womanâs warm chest against yours, your swollen lips meeting hers in a passionate kiss.
Shit, it definitely wasnât over between you two.
âââŠââ
#abby anderson#abby anderson fic#abby anderson smut#abby anderson x female reader#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson x y/n#abby anderson x you#abby the last of us#abby x fem!reader#abby tlou#the last of us part two#abby tlou2#tlou2 fic#tlou2#the last of us#the last of us fanfiction#abby tlou fic#abby anderson lesbian#abby anderson fanfiction#abby anderson blurb#abby anderson the last of us 2#fckbuddyabby#abby x reader#the last of us part 2#abby x you#muscle mommy abby#the last of us fic#tlou 2 abby#college!abby
986 notes
·
View notes