#i have two more boards for act 2 and act 3 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

yeonjunsvape · 27 days ago

Text

gym games: seungcheol smut

w/c: 2k

pairing: idol!seungcheol, female!reader

genre: smut

summary: seungcheol challenges his lazy girlfriend to workout. every level completed, a reward will be given.

a/n: i didnt know how to put the ‘keep reading’ link on my posts but now i do, i apologize if that annoyed anyone lol

your bed was your favorite place to be after a long day at work; unfair wages, annoying employees, nagging customers. when you're in bed, watching your favorite drama, all the problems go away.

"[Y/N]!!" you hear a distant voice shouting and look up to see your sweaty boyfriend, seungcheol, waving his hand to get your attention. "are you dissociating again?" he asks with his arms crossed and a mischievous smirk on his lips.

he's trying to get you at the gym more because after work you just lay around, and you promised him you'd be his workout buddy. "i'm sorry baby, but not everyone enjoys working out like you." you defend, crossing your arms to copy him.

"i know you don't like working out, that's why i came up with an amazing idea, hoshi, bring it in." you stare at the man coming in with a white board, raising an eyebrow. "what...is that?" you ask confused and seungcheol stands on the otherside of the board.

"this, my dearest, is the motivation to inspire you to work out." he proudly smiles, grabbing a hand pointer and slaps it against the board, making you jump.

"level 1, warmups, you get a kiss for every warmup you complete. level 2, cardio, run 1 miles on the treadmill, i'll give you a sexy hot oil massage. level 3, dancing, you complete a whole seventeen song, of your choice, you get head. finally, level 4, weightlifting, if you can lift 100lbs, you can pick the reward." seungcheol points to each level as he talks and you hide your blush away from the two men.

"hoshi, did you come up with this?" you ask and he laughs, looking at the board proudly. "i helped, the hot oil massage was my idea." you roll your eyes out of embarrassment, glaring at seungcheol. "okay, i accept your offer, i'll go through all the levels," you confidently nod your head and start the warmups.

"20 pushups, 20 squats, and 10 lunges." your boyfriend commands, acting like a personal trainer. you try to hide your laugh at his stern demeanor, you were usually the one telling him what to do so you found it cute.

"thats all? this is gonna be a piece of cake." you get down to a pushup form and seungcheol walks to you, hovering over your smaller frame. "i forgot to mention, its 2 sets of pushups."

you groan loudly at the thought of doing 40 pushups and plop on the ground, hearing hoshi maniacally laughing in the back.

"come on baby, kisses are in store when you finish." you roll your eyes again at the offer and get back in form. "with this many pushups, i better get a full makeout session, not just a peck." you hear your boyfriend hum in agreement, watching you start on the warmup.

when level 1 was complete, the last thing on your mind was kisses, you were sweating profusely and chugging your water until it was almost gone.

seungcheol goes to the white board and puts a checkmark by level 1, looking at you with satisfaction. "take a 10 minute break and start level 2." he commands, you instantly dropping to the ground in a starfish formation, groaning to yourself loud.

"man, how is she going to get through the other levels when she's dying on warmups?" hoshi asks, doing pullups in the background. "she'll make it, she's just dramatic." your boyfriend answers and you lift your head up. "i'm already plotting my revenge, don't make it worse for yourself."

level 2 starts with the treadmill, and it was quite easy considering this is the only machine you use when you want to stare at seungcheol work out. "i've done 5 miles on this before," you brag to your boyfriend when he hops on the one next to you.

"have you done it on 12% incline and 7 miles per hour?" he asks with another cheeky smirk, and you gulp. "i-is it hard?" you chirp out, scared of the pain you'll be in tomorrow.

hoshi comes up and presses buttons that were foreign to you, but you read 12% and start going at a jog as he heightens the miles per hour to 7. you whine when it starts burning your calves and never keeping your eye off the mileage. "i'll do it with you," seungcheol smiles at your cuteness, running beside you.

the more you run, the less it hurt, and it was actually making you more energetic. "i'm halfway done!!" you proudly shout to your boyfriend, breathing heavy and he looks over at your machine. "good girl, don't give up." he cheers for you and your cheeks turn red from blushing.

when it hits the 1 mile mark you turn off your machine, slowing down with the motor, and stepping off with shaky legs. "that wasn't bad at all." you announce to the two boys and hoshi gives you a highfive, holding a stereo with the other hand.

"good job, now level 3, dancing to one of our songs, which one do you choose?" seungcheol asks, getting off the treadmill as well.

you think hard about what song you want to choose, then stick your finger in the air. "i got it! 'very nice'." the two boys start laughing and you slap your boyfriends arm. "it's my favorite, leave me alone."

hoshi plays 'very nice' on the stereo he had earlier and you begin the choreography, hitting every beat. they look at you with wide mouths, not expecting you to know the entire dance, "go [Y/N]!!" hoshi yells out, doing the dance to himself while he watches.

when you finish you blow your boyfriend a kiss and he catches it, putting it to his heart. "level 3 complete, i'm impressed [Y/N], seriously." he says and gives you a hug, rocking the both of you back and forth.

level 4 was to lift 100 lbs but after all you did, seungcheol decided to go easy on you, and change it to 50 lbs.

you easily lift the weight above your head and cheer to yourself, setting the weight on the ground, dancing around. "i get kisses, hot oil massage, head (sorry hoshi), AND pick my own reward."

seungcheol lifts you up and waves to hoshi, "thank you for helping, i have to go fulfill my promises." he puts you over his shoulder and you feel a slap on one of your butt cheeks, making you squeal. "bye hoshi, sorry you had to be involved with his perverted behavior."

hoshi waves and laughs, watching seungcheol run out of the private gym under your apartment complex, with you still on his shoulder.

at the apartment, he lays you on the bed the both of you share, and spreads his arms open to welcome you in his chest. you curl up comfortably on him, rubbing circles around his cheek. "level 1 prize please."

seungcheol leans down and kisses your nose, making you huff. he chuckles and goes down further to your lips, kissing gently until you open your mouth so his tongue could enter.

the kissing lasted only a few minutes before your hands roamed his body but he pulls away, "uh-uh, we need to do level 2 now." you pout but change your mood when you see seungcheol bringing in the massage oil, him smiling from ear to ear.

"get undressed, i'll warm the oil up." he tells you and gets the warmer, while you take off the athletic ware you had on. you put a pillow at the end of the bed and lay belly side down, anticipating the feeling of seungcheol's hands on you.

the feeling of him straddling your waist from the back made you let out a deep sigh at his weight. "am i too heavy?" he asks, hearing your breath hitch but you just shake your head. "no honey, im good." you whimper out and he laughs, getting off your butt, kneeling on the bed next to you. "i forgot you're half my size." you giggle and lean your head up to kiss his lips, admiring his compassion for you. "i'll get started now."

he pours the oil on your back slowly, the pain hitting your skin instantly but you old it in until you're used to it. seungcheol massages your shoulders first and you let out a low lingering groan which made him start laughing, but you ignore it. his muscles flexed as he rubs every knot that was in your shoulders, continuing to make unnatural sounds at the massage.

"flip." he whispers so he didn't ruin your zen state, and you abide, turning over so you were now on your back. he gently rubs your shoulders from the front with the oil, dragging his fingers up your neck in the process, making chills run down your body.

he moves his hands down to your boobs and you smile with your eyes closed, squirming around when he squeezes them tight. the oil wasn't as hot anymore so when he poured more on your chest it didn't hurt your boobs.

seungcheol admires your body and hums, pinching your perky nipples so they could get hard. you blush and watch him take one of your now hard nipples in his mouth, your head thrown back when you feel him start nibbling on it softly. his tongue swirls around you and he looks up at you with a smirk, "do you want to move on to level 3?"

you nod and buck your hips gently in the air, signaling you needed him. he kisses from in between your boobs to your belly button and rubs your inner thigh gently. "good girl." he whispers and kisses down to your pelvis, just swiping his tongue over your clit. you whine at his teasing and buck your hips again, "i need it." you whimper out, seungcheol listening and flicks his tongue over your clit in a fast pace.

you let out a loud moan at his tongue and grip his hair in your hand tightly, looking down at him pleasuring you. he pulls away so he could spread your legs open wide, his tongue sliding through your folds skillfully, then back up to your clit. his tongue pace never lessens while he lifts your legs up to your knees so he could see more of your pussy.

he slides his tongue in your hole, feeling the inside of you with a moan and rubs your clit with his thumb. the sensation of him inside you made your legs shake and you buck your hips fucking his face. "you have a magic tongue baby." you moan out and feel him chuckle, sending vibrations against your wetness.

you throw your head back again, arching your back and push his face closer to you while you cum in his mouth, yelling loud for him. "fuck..." you whimper when he sucks up all your juices and kisses your now throbbing clit.

"thank you my angel." you breathe heavy and he goes up to kiss you on the lips, rubbing your arm softly. "anytime, i love you." he mumbles, wrapping an arm around your naked body. "what do you want to do for level 4?" seungcheol asks after you catch your breath and you hum, cuddling up to him close. "watch my shows naked, eat, have sex, watch my shows, eat, have sex, repeat, until we fall asleep. if we fall asleep."

"deal."

1K notes · View notes

yeah-thats-probably-it · 1 month ago

Text

Once again tumblr is silencing my voice by not letting me add more than 30 tags. Okay the rest of what I was going to say is that if you gave him an assignment that was simple and out of the way enough, even upstairs, he might be able to stick it out for a couple hours. Another factor that determines how long that might be is where this is happening. Is he at Brinkley Court? Then Aunt Dahlia and the other servants (whom he seems to be on good terms with) will cover for him. No matter what he screws up, “oh, that’s Barry! He’s just new here!” Jeeves might be able to work something similar at a different manor house (presuming Bertie’s face isn’t already known there) if he’s on good terms with any of the servants there. They might agree to take Bertie under their wing as a favor to Jeeves. It also depends on whether Jeeves himself is there to help him, whether they’re working in the same area of the house, and if they’re able to inconspicuously pull each other aside to confer.

In conclusion: can’t answer question, too many variables

#this is tough because i kind of have to add some nuance #regarding the wording of the question itself #the question being asked is not how long he would last before getting found out #it’s how long he would last before saying/doing something inappropriate #the answer to the latter question is ‘within the hour’#because bertie’s model for what a proper servant is supposed to act like is jeeves. and jeeves says and does inappropriate things constantly #jeeves is not normal. he is not passing on good servantly practices. bertie does not understand that his own willingness to listen to #long lectures about pearls and shakespeare is not universal to all employers #however if the implicit question is how long before he’s caught that could vary a lot more depending on a range of factors #first of all as some have already noted i think bertie is smarter than he presents himself as #in the show he can’t make tea even with a manual but i don’t believe there’s any such scene in the books #he often is very vague about the details of jeeves’ valeting activities which could be taken to mean he doesn’t understand them #but could also just be conservation of detail or simply not seeing it as that important #everyone at this time knows what a valet does - we don’t need a detailed word picture about it #bertie has every detail of jeeves’ facial expressions and body language memorized #that speaks to many hours of staring at him and observing him #i believe bertie has spent enough time watching jeeves to grasp the basic theory of much of what he does #he would perform the task of ironing a shirt terribly but he COULD perform it #he understands the basic steps of 1. lay shirt on ironing board 2. pour water into iron 3. plug in iron #(electric steam irons were invented 1926 they could have had one from very good jeeves onwards)#and the end result would be a shirt with creases in all the wrong places that has nevertheless clearly been pressed with an iron #i think he could pass for a BAD servant for at least the better part of a day #as prev said he has better chances downstairs #you could hand him a dirty pot and a scouring pad and some soap and tell him to scrub it #upstairs he’s on very thin ice. again like prev said he has an expressive face and no filter #however i’m going to say that if he REALLY put everything he had into it he might be able to last an hour or two. again because of how much #he’s observed jeeves. if he kept mentally repeating ‘stuffed frog face. stuffed frog face stuffed frog face’ (there is a chance he would #eventually accidentally say this out loud) he could probably do a just plausible enough impression of a very distracted spaced out servant #who probably jumps every time someone speaks to him #if he DOES have to speak he knows a few scripted lines from jeeves but again jeeves is not the best model for talking like a proper servant

87 notes · View notes

retrievablememories · 1 year ago

Text

cherry bomb | jungkook (m)

pairing: jungkook x fem reader

summary: “get fucked or die” becomes the motto to live by when a serial killer begins targeting virgins on your campus.

genre: smut, horror/slasher, college!au

word count: 7.1k

warnings: multiple minor character deaths, blood, gore, violence (including gun and knife use), mentions of alcohol consumption. virgin-shaming and slut-shaming, oral (fem receiving), riding, virgin!reader, first-time sex, protected sex, hair-pulling, biting, fingering, dirty talk, virgin kink/corruption kink, fuckboy JK. is JK a sub or a masochist here? answer: i don’t fucking know!

a/n: inspired by the movie cherry falls (2000). heed the warnings. remember that this is fiction, not meant to be entirely realistic, and characters' views/actions don't represent my own. if this kind of content is not up your alley just block me or make use of the wonderful filtering option in your account settings

sources for the fic dividers: one | two

link to part 2

CHERRY BOMB

don't wanna die? come out and hook up with a sexy girl or guy.

virgins get in free!

THIS FRIDAY

NOV 3, 20XX

[address here]

"very corny." you shake your head, looking at the party flyer in your hands. you'd just torn it down from the bulletin board in your dorm lobby; unauthorized advertisements aren’t allowed, and your job as RA involves these menial-ass tasks. "this is literally life or death...why are they turning it into a joke?"

"it is a joke," your friend camille says, snatching the flyer out of your hands to look it over. "think about it. 10 students get killed since we came back in august, and the semester isn't even over yet. the school administration and local police haven't done nearly enough to address it or stop any more deaths. and the common denominator is that all these people were suspected or confirmed virgins?” you haven’t seen the evidence yourself, but the daughter of one of the local policemen claimed every victim also had virgin carved into some part of their dead body. “yeah, i'd say it's a joke to pretty much everyone at this point. this is what happens when you let the students come up with a solution."

camille hands the flyer back to you, and you hold it limply. "but...it's not like you can look at someone and tell if they're a virgin. the killer must've known them all personally. it just doesn't make sense."

"some of those people had no mutual friends. nothing connecting them whatsoever. not even shared extracurriculars. it's gotta be a perverted stalker with a fetish, maybe. a scorned hacker who somehow got into their private conversations 'n' shit? or maybe he consulted the cards to know who’d fucked before and who hadn’t.”

“oh please.” you scoff. “now you’re being completely ridiculous. tarot cards aren’t gonna tell you if someone’s a virgin or not.”

“then you come up with a better explanation. either way, these folks—" camille points to the flyer "—aren't taking their chances."

"hm..." you keep staring at the flyer, looking at the shiny-red cherries, condoms, sex toys, and other sex-related objects decorating the paper. whoever designed this really wasn't playing.

"so, are you gonna go?" camille asks with a sidelong glance. "free admittance, after all."

your neck burns under the collar of your shirt. "are you?" neither of you have had sex yet, for differing reasons. camille's reason was almost complete indifference to the whole act.

she gives you a look that says i could give a shit. "...you know the answer to that one, dear. so you're not even thinking about it? as much as you have cried to me and lorelai about not being able to find a man you like enough to give it up for, our killer here probably already knows. you practically have a ‘come kill me’ bullseye on your back.”

"i don't know," you say, because you genuinely are thinking about it. “and stop trying to fucking scare me.” despite your logical brain trying to reason with you, you still feel a sense of underlying terror about being the next victim. "the virgin killer," as they'd nicknamed the freak, clearly prefers a specific type of victim, and all kills have been random and unpredictable other than that—and the fact that every victim attended your university. he also seems partial to using a knife on his victims, but even that isn’t guaranteed—3 of the 10 had been killed in ways other than stabbing. "i don’t know why you’re so nonchalant about this, though."

camille shrugs. "if he comes for me, i'll just spray him with my illegal mace and kick his nuts into his throat. then tie him up and wait for my dad to come blow his head off. there are some advantages to having a gun nut for a dad."

you chuckle at the absurdity of it. "you've got it all planned out, then."

FRIDAY, NOV 3

taking a rideshare to the party was a smart idea on lorelai's part, because the two little shots you took to pre-game already have you feeling woozy. or maybe it's just your nerves.

the cherry bomb is located at a mansion that isn’t really a mansion, but a large once-abandoned house one of the fraternities fixed up years ago for throwing off-campus parties.

the party is stacked wall to wall with people when you enter, though from what you can see, no one has actually started fucking yet—maybe they're saving that for the supposed orgy later in the night. you just hope you can get someone in one of the backrooms before that happens, because you're not really keen on having everyone in your class knowing what your tits look like.

you have one simple mission here tonight—lose your long-held virginity and get off the virgin killer's radar. once that's done, you'll make your exit.

"actually, i'm surprised anyone else showed up. other than you, who wants to willingly admit that they're still a virgin in college?" lorelai shudders. you roll your eyes and try not to feel offended, sucking your teeth.

"you were more than welcome to stay back at the dorm."

"no! i'm here for moral support, plus i don't want to be alone tonight. i don't care who this killer targets, it's getting too crazy out here to just be letting your guard down anymore."

well, you won't argue that.

you and lorelai dance to the song booming over the multiple speakers, scanning the room for potential hookups all the while. you become more alert when you recognize a familiar length of black hair coming through the front door, plus the tattoos and piercings to match.

you're not surprised jungkook came. he has his pick of untouched and easily corruptible virgins here, which has always been his thing; you've heard him brag about it to his seatmates more than once in your shared elective. not to mention the stories you've heard from the women who actually fucked him. as far as you could figure, it was the usual male ego posturing bullshit about being able to say he was someone’s first—and likely best. for that reason, alarm rises when he makes eye contact and starts making a beeline for where you and lorelai are.

"oh, here comes the campus bicycle," lorelai says, voice deadpan.

you continue watching him from the corner of your eye, trying to see if he's just approaching someone in your general vicinity, but no. once he shoves his way through the crowd of dancers, some unashamedly groping at his body as he does, he stops right in front of you two.

"so, are you here for the same reason i am?" he asks you, grinning like the devil himself. "or are you looking to get that sweet little cherry popped?"

the backs of your knees sweat. "um—latter, i guess." you hadn't meant to answer that honestly, but to say you are caught off-guard is understating it. you can count on one hand the number of times you and jungkook have talked to each other in class, and never about anything of this nature.

"you're not gonna ask me?" lorelai says.

jungkook gives a hearty laugh; you didn't think it was that funny. "everyone knows you're not a virgin, why waste my time?"

"wow, okay. fuck you. you're no saint yourself." she huffs.

"anyway…" jungkook returns his attention to you. "have you really never done anything before? not even sucked a dick? there's no way someone hasn't tried to hit that. not even some 'backdoor action only' like those weird religious girls?"

"is that any of your business? i didn't know we had to give a rundown of our lack of sexual experience before getting laid around here." you snap.

jungkook's eyelids lower a fraction. "i'm tryna decide how easy i should go on you, babe. i mean, if you wanna take this in one of the rooms. otherwise, i'll let someone else have a go if you're not interested."

unfortunately, you are interested, despite his overly blunt manner and objectifying language. even though you know you’ll just become another entry on his long list of flings—someone he’ll tell his boys about later—maybe the fear of death is making you impulsive.

but maybe his looks are playing a part in it, too.

he's imposing with his physique and his all-black attire, his shirt so tight that you can clearly see his pectoral muscles and his nipples, his unbuttoned leather jacket doing nothing to hide those details. you can easily imagine yourself running your hands across those pecs, squeezing them, rubbing your fingers against his nipples and making him moan underneath you, feeling and seeing his abs contract through this stupid-ass shirt that must've been painted on. this brief fantasy immediately dampens your panties.

"…i'm interested," you affirm, dragging your gaze back up to his eyes, and he smirks from knowing you were obviously checking him out.

knowing the direction this is going in, lorelai taps you on the back and whispers in your ear. “have fun but don’t do anything stupid, yeah? i’m not playing auntie to any offspring you and this dude pop out, sis. use protection.” then she makes her exit to go find herself a partner for the night.

“so, come on.” jungkook nods his head in the direction of the stairs, and you follow him through the crowd as he leads you up the winding staircase. you squeeze past two girls kissing on the staircase railing, their motions a bit unsure as if they’ve never done it before but clearly still enjoying themselves.

jungkook pushes a few doors in until he finds an empty room, and you try not to ogle at the random couples you see along the way. not even an hour in and the two shots must be wearing off, because your body is beginning to buzz with nervousness again.

jungkook closes the door behind him when you both step into the room, which is lit by one lamp on a nightstand and the open window beside the bed. he reaches for you, and you shiver when his hand grasps the side of your face, the other snaking around your waist.

“scared?” he asks, his voice low. you shake your head, and he grins. “relax.” he leans in as if to kiss you and you part your lips, but he doesn’t do that just yet. he traces your top lip and then your bottom lip with his tongue, dipping it into your mouth as he switches. the teasing nature of his actions makes your body heat up as you watch a string of saliva spread and then break between the both of you.

he presses back in for a real kiss this time, his nose bumping yours. despite all your fears about tonight, you’re able to unwind somewhat and just focus on the full sensory experience that is this kiss—the warmth of his hands and his mouth, the sappy sound your lips make when they separate and come back together, the scent of his cologne, the taste of his spearmint-flavored tongue.

you find yourselves inching toward the bed, him walking you backwards while keeping you steady. just as the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed, there's the sound of a woman's bloodcurdling scream from behind you, and you nearly shove jungkook to the ground in your haste to run to the door. your fingers are scrabbling at the doorknob when you hear a burst of laughter. a guy you don't recognize crawls out from under the bed holding his phone up, displaying a youtube video of the shower scene in the movie psycho, which is where the noise is coming from.

"that was funny as fuck." the guy laughs obnoxiously loud, holding his stomach. “don’t get too carefree or you just might die, girlie.”

jungkook grabs the guy by his jacket collar like he's a kid and throws him out the door; the guy doesn't object because he knows this is preferable to getting his ass beaten by the bigger man. "fuck outta here, you jackass." jungkook snaps.

jungkook stomps over to the closet to yank it open. "any more idiots in here wanna show themselves?" he checks a couple more areas before deciding the room is clear and closing the door again, locking it for good measure.

“okay.” he sighs, stripping off his jacket and shoes. he takes your hand and pulls you toward him as he sits on the bed. “relax, baby. forget about that fucking clown. come ‘ere. why don’t you sit on my lap?”

with a heavy exhale, you try to steady your still-shaking hands as you shuck your boots off and pull your dress up slightly to comfortably sit in his lap, your legs loosely wrapped around his waist.

he squeezes your waist. “so, where were we? i don’t really remember…”

you huff out a half-amused laugh. “really? i’m pretty sure it was this…” you lean forward with your hands on his shoulders and press your lips back onto his. jungkook follows in kind, his hands running up from your thighs to your waist and back again. the rhythm of his hands is hypnotic, distracting you as you try to keep most of your focus on the kiss, and you fear you may be getting overstimulated before anything has truly began.

as you continue kissing, jungkook’s hands creep your dress further up your thighs until your panties are revealed. still feeling up your legs, his hands press further toward your inner thighs, and you gasp into the kiss when his thumb pushes against the seat of your underwear. they have been damp for a while now and you know he knows this, so you aren’t surprised when he breaks the kiss to smirk, though it makes you roll your eyes.

jungkook whispers against your lips, “let’s try something. will you sit on my face?” you stare at him without a word, not expecting this to be the first thing he proposes. at your response, or lack of, he adds, “i want to make you feel good. do you want me to taste you?” his voice is so soft, so unassuming and cloying, that it makes you feel like a lamb clutched gently in the mouth of a wolf.

your brain is already surrendering to it. “yes.”

you get another kiss and a smile. jungkook moves you out of his lap, shuffles further up the bed, and lies down so that he’s flat on his back, his head surrounded by the pillows. he gestures for you to follow.

taking your time, you slide your panties off and crawl up the bed until you’re near his face and he’s lying below you looking like he’s struck gold. he grabs your hips to bring you closer until you’re right over his mouth. you’re embarrassed to have someone looking at you from this angle for the first time, and you’re about to get too into your head about it when he french kisses your inner thigh, blanking out your mind.

the only thing you know from then on is that his mouth is burning hot. his tongue is everywhere. he licks at you delicately to test the waters, and then more firmly when your thighs tremble around his head, in an effort to elicit the same response.

the way he fits his mouth over your entire pussy and sucks it with just the right amount of pressure so that it won’t hurt makes you feel faint. the way he slides the flat of his tongue over your clit only to suck it gently at the end of the stroke makes you cry out louder than you intended. you’re glad he moved further up the bed for this, because you’re holding onto the headboard for dear life.

the only things you’re aware of are your own out-of-control moans and the wet sounds of jungkook’s mouth working you over. all of it has you so overwrought that you’re already reaching your peak, your grip on the headboard weakening.

jungkook seems to know this without you telling him anything. he pauses and looks up at you with a fucked-out smirk and a wet mouth. you don’t know whether to thank him or curse him for giving you a break. “before you come, fuck my face.”

“wh-what?”

“rub that wet fucking cunt on my face.” heat flares through your body at his frank words. “grab my hair and just ride my face.” he reaches up to take your hands off the headboard and places them in his hair. “you can do it, baby. fucking use me.”

it takes you a minute to get over the fresh wave of embarrassment and find a pace that works, because the connection between your brain and body feels like it’s frying and your coordination is off. jungkook helps guide your hips, especially with how you’re trembling from pleasure and close to falling apart. soon enough, you’re letting go of yourself and moving your hips enthusiastically, if a little clumsily, and chasing your climax. you savor the feel of your clit sliding across his wet tongue and his soft hair in between your fingers, and you push his head as close as it can get.

you come while screaming, dizzyingly immersed in the pleasure. you forget that you’re holding his hair as you yank roughly on it. the only thing that matters to you is that jungkook’s mouth is still sucking your clit through the best physical sensation you’ve ever experienced.

when he finally lets go and gives you reprieve, you collapse beside him on the pillows.

“i’m sorry,” you mumble, disoriented. “about your hair, i mean?”

jungkook laughs. it’s funny how shiny-wet his face is—and that you caused it, which is kind of hard to believe in the aftermath of it. “the pain is what gets my dick hard. don’t worry.”

you chuckle breathlessly at that, and for a few seconds you both have that funny little moment to yourselves in all the ridiculousness of the overarching situation.

then jungkook’s hand is reaching for you again. “i’m not done with that pussy yet, though.” he brushes a finger over your hole, and your body twitches from the sensitivity. he slides that finger through the wetness and then uses the lubrication to push only the tip of his finger in. he dips it in and out, teasing the nerves at your entrance, until you’re shifting your hips closer to him to implore him for more. he grants your request by sliding his finger all the way inside.

having a finger inside you feels okay at first, though not as good as his actions a few seconds ago. jungkook decides to amplify your pleasure by placing his lips on your neck, leaving gentle and wet kisses behind, and you become all too aware of the feeling of your hardened nipples against the material of your dress. the pleasure begins to heighten when his finger finds a place inside of you that makes you throb, your walls clenching around him.

“ah…” you gasp and shift eagerly against his body as he keeps stimulating that spot, not thrusting his finger into you but simply stroking it across that area in a come here motion.

jungkook pulls away from your neck to smile at his handiwork. “that’s better, right?” he whispers, watching your reactions. your lips form around the word yes, though it’s difficult to try to speak, and you worry how unsteady your voice might sound. he waits until you’re clutching at his arm, leaving red lines on his skin from your fingernails, to carefully push another finger in beside the first. you try to breathe evenly, though his refusal to let up on that spot has your lungs stuttering for air all over again. his nose nudges your ear as he leans even closer and whispers, “there are so many different spots to find, so many different ways to make you come; i wanna go looking for them all.”

jungkook angles his hand so that his palm is also stimulating your clit, his fingers thrusting slowly now. you turn your head away from him as your body becomes ablaze, unsure what to do with yourself as your climax nears quickly.

“would you let me do that? learn your body like no one else has done?” he kisses the shell of your ear, and even that small action is enough to tip you closer to the edge with how your body is already so fired up. “who else could make you feel as good?”

this orgasm makes your eyes fill with involuntary tears, and little clear droplets bleed down the sides of your face and towards your ears as your body convulses. jungkook kisses the wet trails they make on your face, still fingering you steadily and forcing another urgent cry out of you. you feel untethered from yourself, like you’re not in control of your reactions, and you don’t know whether to be afraid of that or not.

jungkook pulls his fingers out when you have mostly calmed down, watching strands of your wetness drip between them before sliding them into his mouth.

after you come the second time, you begin to tire. the deeds have been done, and if you want, you can confidently go back out to the party now and say you’re no longer a virgin; you’re off the unofficial kill list and can live the rest of your days without having to look over your shoulder with every breath.

…but jungkook is hard against your hip, and in all honesty, you don’t want to leave without knowing what his dick looks and feels like.

“you tired?” he asks, and the casual air of it makes your stomach flip, for some reason. he says it as if this is something you two do all the time and he’s used to asking you this after wearing you out during a good session.

but now’s not the time to get delusional.

“no. i want more.”

jungkook smiles broadly, teasing his lip ring with his teeth. he sits up to peel that skin-tight shirt off, and you don’t bother to stop yourself from staring at all that skin in front of you. your eyes drop further down when he removes his belt and undoes his jeans, pushing his pants and underwear down enough for you to see his v-line but not taking them off. is that an invitation for you to do it? "you hold the reins here," he says, lying back on the bed again. "do whatever you want to me."

“whatever i want?” you repeat, already sitting up. he nods, hands behind his head, and you take the initiative to straddle him again, knowing you’re getting his jeans wet.

you reach for his pecs first, just like you’d imagined downstairs. the firm muscle of them is mesmerizing; but when you slowly circle your thumb against his nipple and his eyes flutter, a small and breathy moan escaping his lips, you’re sure you enjoy this much more.

you play with his nipples and even work up the boldness to purse your lips around one, sucking it softly, and every noise that arises from him makes your clit tingle.

you eventually move your hands to his abs, enjoying how they flex at your touch. you didn't think his navel would be pierced, not hearing that detail in any of the sex tales you've eavesdropped on about jungkook, and you wonder what else you might find out about him tonight.

“you should do your nipples to match.” you suggest it without much thought as you’re teasing his navel piercing, though you don’t regret saying it.

“would you be into that?” jungkook sounds like he’s actually considering it, watching you from below his lashes.

you grin. you don’t know if you’ll actually end up having sex with him again to see them, but you answer, “i’d love it…it’d be sexy on you.”

sliding your hands further down still, you come to the waistband of his underwear, which is peeking over the top of his lowered jeans. for a second the nervousness returns; jungkook notices how your hands twitch with hesitation. “it’s fine, i’m not gonna bite you…unless you ask me to, though. here.”

he slips a hand into his underwear and grips his dick, though he doesn’t take it out right away; he strokes the shaft a few times, observing your reaction with expectant and hazy eyes. the scene before you makes your mouth dry. jungkook quickens his pace, twisting his hand at the tip and using his own precum as lube, until you are overcome with the desire to see it and you pull his underwear out of the way.

his cock is thick and flushed and glossy with precum. you don’t have much to compare it to, but it’s a good size, and all the previous women have said that he clearly knows what to do with it. he releases it and it slaps against his abs, leaving a streak of precum behind. when you look at him in anticipation of what he’ll do next, he grasps it again and starts stroking himself quickly, like he’s trying to get off. the wet slap of his motions and his quiet groans make your walls clench.

“i could keep fucking myself and you could watch, since you seem to prefer it…” he murmurs.

“no, i—let’s go all the way.”

jungkook smirks and answers your decision by pulling a condom out of his jean pocket. you watch as he unwraps it and slips it down his cock. though you’re already straddling him, he grasps your wrist and encourages you to draw nearer to him. “come here, pretty thing.”

when you’re hovering directly over him, jungkook grips the base and teases his tip against your entrance. “ready?” he asks.

“yeah,” you say breathlessly.

it’s a little slow-going, but you eventually end up with him seated inside you. it’s uncomfortable to be taking something bigger than a couple fingers, but it isn’t terribly painful.

“now, try moving your hips like this…” with his hands on your hips, jungkook helps you grind against him so that your clit slides across his pubic bone with every move. the discomfort begins to ebb out of your mind after a little while of doing this, and you laugh quietly.

“i thought…i thought this doesn’t feel good for men,” you sigh, your eyes closing from the bliss of his firm abdomen stimulating your clit. “this grinding thing, you know. or so a friend told me…”

jungkook laughs too, but he doesn’t confirm it like you expect him to. his only answer is, “a sexy woman on my dick will always feel good.”

he seems to be more about showing than telling, anyway. his hands reach for your breasts, groping them over the fabric of your dress before sliding underneath for better access. sporadic moans escape you as he plays with your nipples, making your clit throb harder and sending more warmth pooling in your abdomen.

your breath wheezes out of you when jungkook starts pushing up into you, his hands still squeezing your breasts. “you’re okay, baby…” he tries a few different angles until he pulls a visceral reaction out of you, your walls fluttering around him and your body shivering intensely. “mmm, there it is.”

your motions start tapering off as jungkook continues thrusting up against that same spot that had you in tears earlier. noticing this, he slips one hand back down to your hip and encourages you to maintain your pace, keeping your clit stimulated while meeting his thrusts. “you’re doing good…” he murmurs. “go ahead, keep fucking me just like that.”

you’re glad lorelai makes you go to the campus gym with her every week, because otherwise you’d be about to collapse riding him for this long. it takes more of your strength and stamina than you’d expected. no wonder jungkook stays in the gym.

“oh, fuck…” the way all his muscles flex as he repeatedly pushes up into you makes you wetter; you no longer have the wherewithal to be embarrassed about the gushy noises your pussy is creating. your whole world has whittled down to this one room, and all you can think about is your next orgasm.

“pull my hair again,” he requests, his eyes dark and lost in lust when he looks up at you.

"jungkook..." you grip his sweaty hair in your hand and pull it to bare his throat, and he gives a desperate moan, his member jerking inside you. you've never felt so in control of a situation before in your life. it gives you a straight adrenaline-slash-dopamine rush.

his neck is just there and exposed, flushed from exertion, and his physical responses make you feel so primal, like you could do absolutely anything to him right now and he’d enjoy it. because of this, you decide to bite his neck, if only to give your mouth something to do. his dick twitches again when you do, another pretty moan leaving his mouth.

his voice is strained when he says, “bite me harder.” when you let go, your mouth travels the expanse of his neck to leave marks in a few other places, digging in harder just as he asked of you.

“fuck, y/n—” the pain of your teeth is pushing him close to the edge too soon, so he slips his other hand out from under your dress and brings it lower to circle his fingers over your clit. jungkook adding his experienced fingers to his constant stimulation of your g-spot is enough to cause your release. your body slumps onto his as you squeeze around him, your head falling into the juncture of his neck and shoulder and your eyes shutting so tightly that you see wobbling shapes in the darkness.

jungkook gives you a few more thrusts rougher than the rest, causing you to cry out. your climax and the aftershocks have your mind so dizzy that you only just realize that he’s reaching his own peak, his muscles tensing and relaxing as he fills the condom with his cum. you hear him groan next to your ear, the sound of it filthy and uninhibited.

jungkook lifts your head from his shoulder, his thumbs on your cheeks, and his lips meet yours in a final slow kiss, his teeth leaving their mark on your bottom lip as a parting reminder.

you're still trying to get your bearings and slide him out of you when jungkook suddenly says, "what is that noise?"

"huh?" you remain immobile for a moment so you can listen more clearly, and you recognize the sounds of screaming and feet pounding on the floors in a bid to run away—both upstairs and downstairs. these don't sound like the same screams of pleasure from earlier. "what the hell?"

you and jungkook scramble to collect your clothes and get dressed, thankful that neither of you stripped down completely, and he throws the used condom into a random corner of the room. you're still making last minute adjustments when jungkook stands up and unlocks the door.

"the fuck is—?" his voice cuts off as if he can't finish his thought.

"what? what is it?" you stand up to get a better view around his body in the doorway, and you scream when you see a lone blonde girl lying a few feet away from the door, slumped against the opposite wall with a slashed throat. her pink party dress bleeds red, and her face that catches the illumination of the string lights glints with tear tracks. you look away from her unseeing eyes before you can cry out again.

jungkook seems confused, peering down the other end of the hallway like there'll be someone there to explain. "it...didn't work?" he asks to no one in particular, as you have no answer. you walk farther back into the room as if putting more distance between you and the body will provide some protection. bumping against the window sill, you turn around to look out the window and see several cars peeling out of the makeshift grass parking lot, nearly running over other people or hitting other cars on the way. you release a stifled scream from behind your hands when someone is too disoriented to get out of the way of the speeding cars and is sent flying through the air before landing painfully, their body now unmoving. the offending car never stops to check on them.

the screaming downstairs worsens, countless voices rising to a fever pitch of shouting and wailing, and you imagine this must be what the pits of hell sound like. jungkook whips around to look at you. “we gotta get the fuck out of here.”

you two inch out of the room with him in the lead, peering into jarred-open doorways to see if anybody could be waiting in the shadows. there are a couple of other bodies in two other rooms, and you wonder—even with the loud music constantly reverberating through the house, did you really not hear the struggles that led to these deaths in your throes of passion? the thought unnerves you. the idea that maybe you were only saved by jungkook deciding to lock the door…

the stair railing you’d walked by an hour ago is now broken in the middle, splinters of wood lying scattered on the stairs, along with more bodies lying on the steps just as haphazardly. the scene looks like the remnants of a stampede; you hope most of these people are just unconscious and not dead.

the dancefloor is a swarm of people in various states of undress pushing and pulling each other as they rush for the exit. there’s not as many people heading for the back door, everyone attempting to squeeze through the main entrance in their unthinking panic, so jungkook grabs your arm and the two of you pick your way through the bodies to get down the stairs as best you can. when you enter the mass of people, you’re exceptionally glad for his strength because it’s easier to get through the opposing crowd.

to reach the back door, you must first get through the kitchen. beside the kitchen entrance in a dark corner, you see someone doubled over and grasping the person in front of them for stability.

you realize belatedly that they have a knife in their stomach; the other person standing over them is the virgin killer himself, calmly watching them suffer.

the killer’s face is hidden by the mask he always wears, which you are seeing for the first time now, up-close—a hairy werewolf head with lemon-yellow eyes and a candy-red tongue. it’s so unexpected that you would’ve found it comedic if not for the context.

a guy in a blue sweater grasps the killer from behind in an attempted surprise attack, causing him to jerk the knife out of the other person’s stomach. the sudden movement causes a spray of blood to come flying off the knife, and you have to hold back vomit when drops of the warm, stinking crimson hit your face. though it feels like time has slowed to a mere creep, all of this happens within seconds.

you don’t see much more before jungkook is forcing you to move again.

you, jungkook, and multiple others barrel out of the back patio door, nearly ripping the flimsy screen door off its hinges in your haste, while the classmate in the blue sweater fruitlessly struggles with the killer in the kitchen. your leg muscles flex harder when you hear the person's agonized shout and the mushy rip of flesh being torn seconds later. almost everyone else has taken the same idea to run for their lives rather than stay and try to fight or disarm the killer; the streets are dotted in every direction with students running for any possible safety, many not having arrived to the party in cars to escape in.

thankfully, jungkook is not one of them.

he grasps your wrist painfully hard in his panic and yanks you in the direction of his car, which is so pitch black that you almost didn't see it sitting in the shadows.

when you get inside, you've never been so grateful to be within the safe metal enclosure of a car in your whole life. hands shaking, jungkook jams the key into the ignition and presses the gas pedal so hard your head jerks against the headrest. however, in your temporary relief, you think of lorelai. your vision doubles as you scramble to open your phone and call her, your head spinning with a new spike of fear. it rings for a while with no answer, and you try two more times only to get the same result.

"maybe she got to safety somewhere else?” jungkook tries to reason with you, his eyes bouncing between your face and the road ahead so he doesn't hit any other cars or any random students still running across the streets. "i didn't see her anywhere in the house before we ran out."

"that just means she could be hiding somewhere in there!" you shriek, unable to control your terror at your friend possibly being trapped in the house with the killer.

"well—maybe just let her stick it out, he won't find her if she just—"

"oh god, but i called her like three fucking times; what if he heard the phone ringing? i'm gonna kill myself."

“y/n, you’re overreacting like shit, there’s no way he’d hear a phone ringing in all that noise—"

unlistening, you drop your phone and bang your fists on your head in frustration and anguish.

sighing deeply, jungkook forgoes any attempt to do a 3-point turn, which requires more coordination than he has at the moment, and drives straight up into someone's yard to make a U-turn back toward the house.

you hadn’t gotten too far from the party house, so in another minute or two and with a couple messy turns that cause the wheels to ride up onto the curb, you’re back on the street leading up to the house. before you can reach it, though, jungkook slams on the breaks, and you have to throw your hands out onto the dashboard to avoid flying into it due to not fastening your seatbelt. you’re not very successful; the move hurts your wrists, and you’re pretty sure some of your ribs just got bruised anyway.

“what the fuck?” jungkook shouts.

the virgin killer with his lycanthrope mask is standing in the middle of the street; he turns to face the car. he has a chokehold grip on a guy you recognize as a popular frat member, who is almost bare except for his blue-plaid boxers. you remember seeing the frat guy dancing with his girlfriend when you and lorelai initially entered the party; he was in the group of guys who put this whole party together as a way to “save” the campus’s virgins.

the virgin killer is holding a gun to the guy’s head, and you have no clue where he might’ve gotten it from. the guy’s demeanor is weak, and he’s barely able to stand, which is obviously from the profuse blood loss he’s suffering; the killer has carved sharp letters into his stomach to form two words—“FAIR GAME.”

“fair game?” you mumble, a sickly realization forming in your mind.

“fuck no—" jungkook is already throwing the car into reverse when you hear and see the first bullet go off, exploding the frat member’s head into an unrecognizable mess and making you scream at the top of your lungs. you hear more shots after you close your eyes and tuck your body down, along with the sounds of bullets splitting metal and hitting glass, and you think you might be actively dying—or maybe you’re already dead. even that would be preferable to experiencing this nightmare.

you can’t think as you feel the whole world spinning, your body tossed violently around. in reality, the only thing moving is jungkook’s car as he whips the vehicle around and speeds down the same street you just traveled up.

for a few long minutes, you only hear your own heartbeat, his murmured and frantic curses, and the strained breaths coming from both of you. you keep your body curled up with your knees tucked to your chest and arms over your face. the car’s engine roars as it races down the highway.

you’re afraid to open your eyes and find out, but you have to at some point. plus, the uncomfortable position is making your body hurt. carefully, you unfurl yourself and turn to look at him. “did you get hurt?”

“uhh—no? i don’t think…?” he takes one hand off the wheel to feel up his body as if he’s just realizing that might be a possibility. “but i’m wired off pure adrenaline right now, so give me a few more minutes to be sure…” he looks to you. “are you?”

“no.” your blood still runs cold at the thought of lorelai being stuck in the house or navigating the dark neighborhood streets at this time of night. maybe she doesn’t even have her phone; maybe it was lost in the commotion. the number of possible scenarios makes you ill.

there’s silence for a while; you assume he must not be hurt after all. you start seeing familiar roads that lead back to the campus, and the gears in your mind begin turning, powered by fear.

“do you think it’s safe to go back to the college?” you ask, your voice small.

after a pause jungkook asks, “why not?” though his face begins to look like he’s second-guessing things.

“the killer could go back to the campus…i don’t know. there was so much violence tonight. it’s like he really has a grudge against the students from our school or something. what if he wants more victims? the campus police are already incompetent, but with most of them off the grounds and on their way to the party house…” you don’t finish your thought. you’ll need to warn camille of the potential danger.

“right, yeah…” jungkook’s hands flex around the steering wheel a few times. “we should…probably go somewhere else, then.”

nowhere feels safe. still, you ask, “where?”

changing his route, jungkook glances over at you. “to a friend’s house.”

#jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fic #bts smut #bts x you #bts x reader #black reader #x black reader #x black fem reader #black fem reader #fem reader #female reader

5K notes · View notes

i-drop-level-one-loot · 1 year ago

Text

How to train your pet Human pt.2 (Yandere!Alien X GN!Reader)

part 1, part 3

CW: Abduction, imprisonment, yandere themes, death, pet/owner relationship, tickle torture, humiliation, sexual themes, angst

"There they are~" Kirtch bent to pick (Reader) up, lifting them easily like a child and carrying them with one hand under their butt. (Reader's) face scrunched up in embarrassment. They were wearing an ugly shirt, both baggy and synched tightly, flowy around the body but locked in place like a neck corset at the top and wrists. When Kirtch first presented the tacky gift, (Reader) had ran to hide, forcing Kirtch to wrestle the outfit onto them.

With all of the unnecessary buttons and ties, (Reader) was incapable of taking it off themselves, and was now sulking.

"I have a lot of duties today that cannot be completed in my office, so I thought you might enjoy coming with me so you don't have to be couped up alone." Kirtch gently knocked his forehead into (Reader's).

'Escape chance, escape chance, escape chance-' "Yeah, that sounds nice." (Reader) tried to contain their excitement, consciously aware of their heart beating loudly in their chest.

"Wonderful! I've packed a couple of toys to keep you occupied if you get bored, as well as snacks." He replied happily, seeming so pleased with himself as he briskly walked down the hall from his bedroom towards the main hall. The two passed by many other aliens walking up and down the corridors, none of whom seemed to be the same species as Kirtch. Everyone wore the same cloak, standing them out from the creatures in the shopping district, a uniform slightly lighter in color than Kirtch's. Most would pause while walking to rub a hand over where their noses should have been, and Kirtch would raise a hand in response.

"What are they doing?" (Reader) whispered.

"It is a sign of respect. I am their superior, so if they are not in a rush to get somewhere they are greeting me."

Fear tickled (Reader's) spine. "Are you guys in the military?"

Kirtch laughed, a high pitch clicking sound that almost sounded like a broken music box. "No. I'm just an upper level leader in our trading company."

They arrived in front of a decorated wall, and Kirtch squeezed (Reader) a little while smiling. "Now this is a very important meeting, I need you to be as quiet as possible, okay?"

(Reader) huffed. "I'm not a child."

"I know you aren't. You're a very sweet pet, who is most definitely a grown adult human."

They felt humiliated. It had been almost a month since they were bought by Kirtch, and they did everything in their power to not anger him or appear as though they needed "release". (Reader) constantly watched and waited for the perfect escape attempt, while fighting off Kirtch's affections in as non threatening a way as possible. Like they were emulating a cat. (Reader's) skin burned, but they held back their tongue.

The wall opened, revealing a board room (at least that's what (Reader) assumed it was), a bare room only decorated with a long table surrounded by stools. Kirtch sat (Reader) on the floor and pulled out a sack from the inside of his cloak. While they didn't want to immediately act the part of a good pet, (Reader) was curious as to what was in the bag. The first thing they pulled out, however, was a taxidermied cat. (Reader's) eyes widened, and they couldn't contain their anxiety, shaking as they stared into the cat's glass eyes. Was this some kind of threat?

"Do you like it? I've been meaning to buy you more human toys, so I thought you would appreciate a stuffed animal." Realizing that the 'gift' was not malicious, the nervousness immediately dissolved into mental fatigue.

"Oh. I get it. Stuffed animal. Yeah." They put the animal back in the bag, hoping Kirtch didn't think their exhausted smile was permission to buy more dead bodies.

More aliens entered the room, greeting Kirtch before taking their seats. (Reader) couldn't understand what the meeting was about, since they were all speaking in Kirtch's native tongue, but their voices and faces were tense. The meeting went on for well over an hour, but (Reader) found it surprisingly entertaining, dubbing over their conversation inside their mind like Mystery Science Theater, chuckling with how wild their hand movements were. It was very human of them.

(Reader) fucked up, accidently snorting at one of the angrier aliens. Although they didn't understand the language, one of his sentences sounded awfully like "Pineapple farts", and with how intense his face was, it made it seem like he was describing how his ass felt. Their sound was so quiet it was almost inaudible, but the alien still noticed and spun his head in (Reader's) direction so quickly his exoskeleton creaked. (Reader) bit their lip to hide a smile, turning away from the conference to pretend to munch on their fruit (?) slices.

The irate alien began ranting louder, and (Reader) caught a word they had heard from a few of the underlings they had been introduced to. Bah-blk. Human.

Shit.

They snuck a glance towards the group very slowly to view Kirtch's expression, worried they may have angered him by interrupting the meeting. And indeed, his almost perfectly flat face was pulled into a scowl, but it wasn't aimed at (Reader).

"(Reader), pet, could you come here for a moment?"

His voice was light and smooth, as it always was when speaking to (Reader), but Kirtch's face was grave as he refused to break eye contact with the alien in front of him; said alien's shell glistened like he was sweating under Kirtch's glare. (Reader), not wanting to be punished later, left their spot on the floor and shuffled over to their owner. Kirtch pulled (Reader) into his lap the second they were within his reach, still staring daggers at the poor alien across the table.

He spoke to the offender, holding (Reader) lovingly with one arm as if to make a point. The man was panicked, waving his arms and sweating profusely, sounding apologetic. It wasn't enough, whatever it was he was saying. He referenced (Reader) as Bah-blk again, and then he was dead.

Before (Reader) could understand what it was that Kirtch had pulled out of his robe, a soundless shot was fired across the table, green blood splattering across the wall as the alien's head was pierced by some kind of projectile.

Everyone turned away, unsurprised by the killing. It was a lukewarm reaction, as though this wasn't the first time they witnessed someone die at Kirtch's hand. The body fell, head slamming into the table with a wet thud.

(Reader) didn't know what he had said, but to kill him... It was jarring. The young adult hadn't payed any attention to the tears dripping down their chin until Kirtch wiped them off. The roughness of his hand startled (Reader), making them flinch away from his touch.

For the rest of the meeting (Reader) couldn't pry their eyes away from the dead body lying across from them. It was a nightmare seemingly without an end, staring at a corpse while his murderer held (Reader) tenderly, rubbing his thumb on their side absentmindedly while discussing business with colleagues like it was a regular Tuesday.

If (Reader) was more aware, they would be disgusted with themselves for not fighting Kirtch as he picked them up to go back to their room, but they just wanted to go back to the safety of their *bed*, and couldn't force their brain to focus on anything else.

The bed was more like a twin sized pillow nestled in a metal cage, but it was soft and felt secure, like when (Reader) was young and thought that hiding under their blanket would protect them from the shadow people in their closet.

"Are you alright, (Reader)?" Kirtch asked, his voice full of concern.

(Reader) curled up, pulling the blanket tight over their face.

Kirtch sighed, and crouched down by (Reader's) bed. "(Reader), please don't be upset with me. If this is about my colleague, please know that what I did was necessary."

"Murder is never necessary."

"He tried to accuse me of not being.. as invested in the job as I should be. And that the reason for my lack of dedication was you. He used very strong language." Kirtch placed a hand on (Reader's) back. "I told him not to disrespect you. Yet he continued."

(Reader) began crying, shaking under Kirtch's touch. "Are you saying that I'm the reason he's dead?"

"Oh, pet.." Kirtch sighed again, pulling (Reader) out of the fetal position and into his arms. "I've always been incredibly interested in humanity. When I was a young child, there was a 'book' in my father's study about primitive species, and that's how I learned about humans. Did you know that you and I experience life differently from one another? Our brains function differently. We have different pain receptors; our brains' physiology are almost nothing alike; the diseases humans are capable of developing simply for existing are concepts we've never had to worry about. Even how we perceive the color spectrum, humans are so unlike any other sentient species I have met."

"I was so fascinated by Earth, especially by humans. We are not allowed to visit Earth as it is a restricted area, so much of what we know is recorded knowledge from captured defectors. My chances of meeting a human were next to none. Then, we had to dock in Dol-Hu, a shady planet only inhabited by criminals and those in hiding. And wandering through the market, I saw you."

"The one thing I've always wanted, for the past seventy years, I recognized you as a human immediately, even though you were so much cuter than I could have expected. You're so soft, and fragile, in comparison to my armoured flesh. You were bent over, but I knew from descriptions I had memorized what you were. As one who has always loved Earth, I am fluent in every Earth language we know of, so I was excited to communicate with you. I was so eager to have a piece of humanity. And now here you are."

(Reader) rolled over, their heart clenching painfully as they looked up into Kirtch's sadly smiling face. "I wonder what I look like through your eyes."

Their heart began doing somersaults in their throat as the tears continued flowing.

"You may have been the only human I've ever known, but I can say with confidence that you must have been the best humanity had to offer. I only want to give you the best life possible."

(Reader) wrapped their arms around Kirtch's midsection, sobbing loudly. His body didn't bend or squish under the full strength of (Reader's) embrace. And that was how (Reader) fell asleep, crying themselves into a nap.

When they awoke, they were alone, lying in the bed with the cat tucked into their arms. (Reader) left the room to find Kirtch at his desk, working on paperwork. The giant heard (Reader) behind him, and turned his attention on them, smiling as he held out his arms in an offer to pick them up. And much to his surprise, (Reader) willingly entered into his embrace, and allowed him to set them on his lap without pouting or making a fuss.

"I have a few more documents to look over, then I can play with you, okay?"

"Okay." Their voice was quiet and monotone, (Reader's) mind still fuzzy from crying so much before falling asleep.

"Are you still upset? Is there anything I can do to make you happy?"Kirtch laid down his work, trapping (Reader) in his arms.

"No.. you can continue working."

"You're more important than my work. I consider your unhappiness to be a crises."

Worry began to prick at (Reader's) skin. "I'm really fine, we don't need to play!"

"Need?"

Memories of the day (Reader) was bought flashed through their mind, causing them to go red and hot as they started to squirm in Kirtch's embrace. "I-I- didn't mean it like that!"

One hand left (Reader's) body to grab something from Kirtch's desk. "Don't fret, I recently purchased a new toy I thought would bring you joy."

(Reader's) eyes bulged out as they froze in anticipation, their heart hammering in their chest. But what Kirtch retrieved did not appear safe to go near any genitalia, a strange contraption formed of multiple thin prongs on a handle. Embarrassed that they had assumed something sexual was about to happen, (Reader) bit the inside of their cheek, puzzling over the strange discomfort they were feeling. "What's that?"

Kirtch raised (Reader's) shirt, and dragged the device across their skin, causing an involuntary shudder. It tickled.

"Ah! No!" (Reader) accidentally laughed, trying to push Kirtch away. He trailed the toy from their pelvic area visible above their pants to their left armpit. The light tingling sensation forcibly clenched their stomach muscles as they let loose a howl of laughter.

They couldn't breathe correctly, laughing so hard that their spasming abdominals made it feel like they were choking. But they couldn't stop, begging Kirtch to "knock it off" while their cheeks hurt from the smile they had. That damn toy tickled every inch of their body, not even noticing when Kirtch removed their pants. They kicked futilely, unable to break free from the assault. Their sensitive skin was almost becoming painful to the touch, but the laughter only got louder.

"pleASE! KIRTCH, stop!!" (Reader) heaved. Their whole body felt tender, highly reactive to each touch. Which made them aware of the fact that the only thing separating them from Kirtch's lap was a thin pair of underpants. With how they had been writhing on his lap, they were relieved that Kirtch didn't seem to have a dick that could become aroused from such movements.

(Reader's) smile fell. I have no idea how Kirtch's species reproduces. Maybe he can get erections, but he won't get one for me because he sees me as a pet. An animal. Their heart turned to concrete as it dropped out of its cage.

Kirtch halted his attack when he saw (Reader) go limp. "Are you tuckered out, pet?"

(Reader) tried to slide off his lap like jelly. "I'm done playing. I want to go back to bed."

"Alright, my stubborn little grump, what is it now? You were all smiles but a second ago, so what is it plaguing your mind?"

They tried to scrunch up their nose to prevent more tears from sheepishly forming. "I'm not a pet. I'm a human. I want to be treated like an equal!"

Kirtch's smile was replaced by a hurt scowl. "Is it so unpleasant being my pet?"

"No!" (Reader) interjected, not understanding why it pained them so much to see Kirtch upset, "I just want to, I just.. I don't know. This is confusing, and it feels.. weird. You're really nice to me, and sometimes it feels like... but then other times you treat me like I'm a cat. This isn't what I want. Either be a bastard and treat me like an animal or treat me like-" Their words caught in their throat. Treat me like what?!

A fearful kiss was placed on their forehead, ghostly with hardly any pressure. Kirtch's hands trembled on (Reader's) sides. "All I wish is to adore you for the rest of your life."

He pulled (Reader) into his chest, petting their back in a comforting manner. "I'll give you anything you ask for, I'll do anything you ask of me. Just to keep you happy, with me. You are all that I've ever wanted. All I wish is to care for you, and spend all my attention on you. If there is anything you want, please ask me. I need you to love me."

(Reader) felt so confused. Like a squid was destroying their gut, everything was uncomfortable and scary. They knew that Kirtch viewed them as a pet, he loved them how (Reader) loved their family dog as a child. But when they heard him begging for their love, it made them wish for an odd moment that he wasn't an alien. That (Reader) was sitting on their boyfriend's lap right now, a strange human man who sometimes infantalized them but only out of affection. Why couldn't this be simple? Why did (Reader) want him to kiss them right at that moment?

"I want to go home. I want to meet someone kind and fall in love." (Reader's) words stabbed Kirtch in places he never knew could hurt.

"I can't do that, (Reader)..." Kirtch's embrace constricted almost painfully tight. "You're all I've ever wanted. You can't ask me to let you go. I'll take such good care of you, you'll see. I have the rest of your life to make you fall in love with me."

They sat there, holding one another in agonizing silence, both loving each other in a way that they couldn't explain. The way their brains functioned didn't just mean that Kirtch could see a wider range of colors than (Reader), but the way their species experienced love was too vastly different for the other to comprehend. Despite Kirtch wanting to own (Reader), that was the greatest love he had ever felt, since his species did not pair bond and only mated when two beings agreed amicably that they wished to procreate. He knew that humans felt many forms of love, love for a mate, love for their offspring, love for a friend.. but to something that never felt any of those forms of love, Kirtch couldn't understand the difference between them.

"I love you, my little pet. And I will always love you."

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere alien x reader #yandere alien #not proofread #cw humiliation #pet reader #pet human #cw death #feels #i'm just so tired #gender neutral reader

4K notes · View notes

chlorinecake · 3 months ago

Text

❝ TADAIMA ❞ ✦ — 𝐎.𝐒𝐓 🍙

PAIRING: Pervy Homestay Roommate Shotaro x F. Reader

GENRE: Smut, Enemies to Fuckers, Set in Japan

SYNOPSIS: While on a 2-week trip in Japan for a cultural research project, you end up boarding with the strangest man imaginable: He’s dirt rich, unemployed, and triples as a pervert…

WARNINGS: KINKTOBER SPECIAL, swearing, mentions of EJ from &TEAM, voyeurism kink, mutual masturbation, shotaro gets drunk at a restaurant once, use of sex toys (a vibrating dildo), handjob, clit play, kissing, switch!taro x switch!reader, minor use of the japanese language (sorry if its cringe or inaccurate lol)

WORD COUNT: 7.5k (I still don't know how that happened) — DAY 3

COLLEGE: A JOURNEY that most folks, including yourself, viewed as a grueling scam that ironically accessorized an equally crooked work-system proceeding the four mandatory years of academic suffrage.

But at the end of the day, every scam succeeded on the back of fraud, and if you were gonna get something worthwhile from your college experience, that is, beyond just a fancy diploma to hang on a wall, you’d have to adapt the same dirty playbook...

Skipping over some boring ass details here, but you decided to become a cultural studies major at your university for the sole benefit of being able to jet off around the globe once every autumn for free, and it was honestly the best.

Taking free trips so long as you tackle some pointless academic assignment almost felt like cheating... or better yet, like living life on easy mode...

Your current voyage was set to explore a place in Asia, specifically the humble city of Tokyo, Japan.

You’d be traveling alone for 2 weeks alongside a homestay family that your academic advisor arranged for you to stay with.

Brimming with excitement, you remember promptly leaving the airport with your bags secured and a camera in hand, eager to begin your overseas adventure in a foreign land!

Unfortunately though, your enthusiasm quickly waned the moment you arrived at your homestay host's doorstep, which brings me to introduce your internal eyeroll as provoked by the one and only Shotaro Osaki, a.k.a. the menacing man in his early twenties that you'd be sharing a home with until you returned back home 14 days later...

TIMESTAMP: 1日目

“Not to sound rude or anything, but I was expecting a host family...” you specified at the front door while kicking off your shoes, shocked to only find two young men occupying the large home.

“And that’s exactly what we are, silly!... Me, plus my friend Shotaro here, plus you equalsss... well, one big happy family!” Euijoo Byeon, the taller and younger of the two, chirped reassuringly, but his efforts still didn't aid your confusion.

“Correction: "Host family" is just a mainstream term, and doesn't strictly refer to full families only... kinda like in this case where I'm the actual homeowner and EJ's just a friendly freeloader,” Shotaro clarified, but you found yourself focusing on his facial features more than any of the words that came out of his mouth so far...

His pearly doe-eyes, button nose, heart-shaped lips, thick hair, and even his angular jawline... it all garnered your attention—

“Heyyy, I'm not a freeloader!” Euijoo defended himself with a forced pout, “I contribute around here pretty often with the homestay students, in case you forgot...”

“Please, you already know that everyone who steps foot under my roof is obligated to serve me in one way or another... including you, ____-chan.”

He smiled as he said those words, looking you dead in the eye with his hands in his pockets.

“Excuse me?” You asked in utter shock at his bold statement.

“Oh, c'mon... acts of service are my love language... that is... right after physical touch...” Shotaro said with a deep sigh, right before taking a few lazy steps until there was no more than a gentle push separating you two.

A brief silence filled the room until EJ helped himself to moving your suitcases from the front door, and off to another room as the sudden business reminded Shotaro to stay on track with you.

“Follow me as I take you on a brief tour of the house, please...”

His home was adorned with beautiful Japanese calligraphy paintings, elegant Shoji screens, and a stunning view of cherry blossoms in the living room. The scent of green tea roamed the halls, but the room you’d be staying in had its own scent… similar to that of cardboard… and grass...

It was like its own little secluded hideaway from the rest of the home, and you felt honored to have such a nice space all to yourself.

“I recently added this extra room to the place after my last homestay student trashed the first space… that’s why it still smells a little… earthy in here,” Shotaro said as if he'd just read your mind.

“Oh, I don’t mind the scent at all!” You replied, hoping that your gratitude was evident. “I really appreciate you even giving me this room...” your voice trailed off, but only because you noticed that Euijoo had helped himself to fully UNLOAD your luggage items now...

“Euijoo-san, thank you for carrying all of this for me, but I can take care of my belongings myself from here,” you said in the most patient tone you could muster.

“Oh, that's nonsense…” he responded with a swatting hand, “you just got off an exhausting plane ride and deserve a break... Besides, it's a joy for me to help homestay students, anyway...”

“Euijoo-san, seriously, I’ve got it,” you said more casually this time, and in a failed effort to hide the anxiety and frustration growing within you.

The tension was almost unbearable for you in this moment—

“You’ve got some pretty nice clothes, by the way, ____-chan,” the young man went on, flipping through your clothes as if they were pages in a comic book.

“T-thank you,” you said shyly, really feeling your face burn up as he slowly started to put your items into the bedroom dresser one by one.

And his hands were so meticulous, too... carefully refolding any pieces that got jumbled up on the way here... you'd otherwise be exceedingly grateful for Euijoo's help if it weren't for the eight-inch secret you were hiding in one of your suitcase compartments—

“Wait, what’s this?” Shotaro asked with raised brows, his otter-like features causing a pit to form in your stomach as he reached over EJ’s shoulder, grabbing the cylindrically wrapped up scarf from your exposed luggage.

Similarly to Euijoo's movements, Shotaro's hands began to slowly unwrap the item, and at this point, you couldn't hold yourself back anymore.

“Shotaro-san, don’t touch that please!” You yelped, snatching the cloth from his hand as both confused and intrigued faces surrounded you now.

Shotaro, being the menace that he was, shook his head in response, almost as if judging you for reading in such a way,,, “You know what they say about secrets, ____-chan… it’s only a matter of time before they come to light…”

His voice held a cheeky undertone that made you internally wanna kick him in his gonads, but instead, those instincts were cut off by a faint buzzing sound.

It was coming from behind the cloth you held securely in your hands, and perhaps almost too securely given how you’d just accidentally triggered the ON-button on the damned thing...

“Is that a..?” Euijoo began to ask with his own puppy-like eyes rounding innocently, but Shotaro nudged his friend's leg.

“Can you go check the mailbox? I think the package I order just arrived a few minutes ago…”

“But the mailbox is so far from here... plus, you don’t even order stuff online these days—”

“Euijoo, do as I say…” Shotaro said more sternly this time, and EJ simply chuckled awkwardly before bowing his head slightly to display apology,

“Sorry, Oniisan,” he smiled facetiously, right before standing up from where he sat and stammering out of the room.

Shotaro waited until he heard Euijoo open and close the front door of the house before saying anything else to you, which only led to you saying something first.

“NOW do you see why I said I could handle my own belongings?” You asked rhetorically, just as you turned off the toy by pressing the OFF-button through the fabric, ceasing the vibration sound that once filled the entire room.

“Yup... I see it crystal clear,” Shotaro smirked to himself before continuing, “I’ll give you your space though after you let me see what you're hiding first… promise...”

And with that, you had more than enough verbal evidence from Shotaro to confirm that he was a raging pervert...

“You... you wanna see my toy?” You asked again despite how obvious the answer was, but only because you were in utter disbelief of his shameless offer.

“Yes,” he clarified with a plain expression, poking his lips out slightly, “and then I’ll leave you alone right after I get what I want... It’s a simple condition, really…”

You flashed him a dead-pan look to which he simply shrugged, right before leaning down to dig inside your suitcase once again.

“Alright, let’s seeee… what other surprises do you have in here?… ooo, I think I feel something—”

“Okay, enough!” You said in a raised tone, making the strange man smile for reasons you didn't understand, “I’ll let you see it, okay? Just... get your hands outta there immediately!”

“No problem, missy...” he practically whispered, standing up from the ground with a proud look plastered across his now irritating face, making you feel all the more embarrassed...

Still, there was something about the awkwardness that made you feel hot all over, and you were hoping it was just because there wasn't a ceiling fan in the room..

With slow movements and a deeply exasperated exhale, you finally pulling back the cloth encasing the item, just enough for him to get a fair peak.

And to your surprise, you almost hurled with his eyes sparkling with yet another glint of excitement...

“So... you’re a dildo kinda girl, huh? A vibrating one must've been pretty pricey, though... how’d you even get past security with this thing?”

“Luck, I guess…” you muttered awkwardly, right before abruptly swatting his hand away as he reached to pull back more fabric. “Hey! You look with your eyes, mister, not your hands…”

“My apologies,” he chuckled once again, both at your words and the way your palms felt a bit clammy when you touched him...

He couldn't help himself from having dirty thoughts about you, either... your nervousness from simply showing him your sex toy was just too adorable to ignore… he wondered how nervous you’d get if you ever let him use it on you one day—

“Shotaro-san, you can leave now,” you said plainly, reminding him of his part of the deal as he clearly got lost in his thoughts on the accident...

“Okay okay, I’m going…” he said, stepping over a few clothing pieces that EJ had left scattered across the room floor while making his way to the door.

“Oh, and I thought I should mention, there’s a convenience store a few blocks from here that sells sex toys, too… specifically from the more portable variety, though…”

SHOTARO WAS QUICK to establish a list of “house rules” for you to abide by the very next day of your stay.

Needless to add, but yes, you were a stranger in his home, so of course you expected him to set boundaries for you to follow, and you respected that for the most part… or at least, that was until his proposals started to get a bit over-the-top for your taste...

TIMESTAMP: 2日目

“Anyways, curfew is 8 p.m.,” Shotaro stated while leaning against a wall in his kitchen, arms crossed over his chest as if the pose would make you take him more—

“Seriously?” You asked in utter shock, though, as per usual, he obviously wasn’t joking.

“Yes, seriously… and if any instances arise where you find yourself struggling to comply with the set curfew, you will promptly be asked to turn over your spare key privileges…”

Euijoo was once again stuck in the middle of all of this, awkwardly sipping from a bowl of soup as the tension between you grew so thick, he could cut it with a knife.

“Fine,” you shrugged, already having had enough of going back in forth with him, as this wasn’t even the first disagreement y’all had had that morning…

TIMESTAMP: 3日目

The days were flying by fast, and you hadn’t even put a dent in your list of activity plans for the trip.

You couldn’t exactly put a finger on where all your time was going, but you knew you had to get out of the house soon so you could take some photos and write about your experiences for the project.

In the meantime, you simply decided to push out a few words about your homestay living experience so far, just as Shotaro, of all people, took his daily stroll through the living room, wearing nothing but a body towel that lazily sat around his waist.

It was evident that he’d just gotten out of the shower, too, especially with the way his bare feet were tracking water all over the house.

What made the whole thing even more annoying though is that you could hardly keep your eyes off of his bloody abs—

“Sorry if I’m distracting you, ____-chan,” he said in a muffled voice, standing a few feet away from you now as he made his way into the laundry room before letting the towel around his waist drop to the floor with a heavy thud, “I’ll be outta your hair in a minute…”

You almost gasped out loud at the sight of him in his squeaky clean birthday suit, lifting your laptop high enough to cover your eyes… anddd to cover your clearly flustered face, too.

“Y-yea, no worries,” you replied with a tinge of discomfort in your voice as the tiny grunts left his lips echoed off of the walls, and you assumed it was because he was doing a heavy load of laundry, “take your time…”

SHOTARO WAS SUCH a shameless weirdo, and that’s a heavy statement coming from someone like you…

Admittedly, you’ve met your fair share of odd people in the past, but never someone like this… never a person who was so strict to their own rules, but completely ignorant of other people's boundaries…

And to top it all off, he went as far as to task you with mopping the floor up after his promiscuous little water mess, dubbing it your “reasonable service” to assist him as a guest under his roof…

TIMESTAMP: 4日目

Knock, knock, knock.

With loud pounds, Shotaro’s balled fist clashed from behind your sliding bedroom door.

“____-chan? It’s almost 9:00am, aren’t you awake yet?”

“Uh… y-yea, just give me a sec!” You called out, only having gotten up about five minutes ago to brush your teeth and change out of your pajamas.

“I’m sorry? I can’t hear you very well…”

“I said just give me a sec, sir, I’m almost done!”

“Okay, I’m coming in—”

“Shotaro-san, no!” Your voice blared from where you stood, but it was already too late… Shotaro was slowly sliding the door open, and a pang of embarrassment overcame you for a plethora of reasons…

(1) Your bed was unmade, (2) the floor was decorated with stuff that should’ve been neatly tucked away in either your drawer, closet, or suitcase by now, and (3) you were only wearing pants at this point, having to cover your bare chest with your forearms to hopefully avoid flashing him.

“Did you run out of clean bras to wear or something?” Is the first thing he asks you, and you internally face-palmed yourself.

“W-what? No, I’m just gonna wear this one again, it’s fine—”

“Nonsense,” he interrupted you, “I’ll start a fresh load of laundry for you right away…”

“Shotaro-san, I sincerely appreciate your kindness, but I don’t mind bringing my clothes to the laundromat down the street…” you clarified as he had his back turned to you, and you took this as an opportunity to throw on a baggy T-shirt real quick.

“Look, I’m unemployed for the season, so helping with house chores is the least I can do to stay busy…” he replied, making you roll your eyes in memory of the stunt he pulled yesterday, “oh, and are your tits still hanging out or can I turn around now?”

“Oh- right… yea, you’re all good,” you stammered as he turned around to see your face as he spoke, and you helped him by picking up some of your clothes from off the ground, too.

“But uh… I also wanted to apologize for disrespecting your home recently, sir… I’m not usually this disorganized, though… I guess I’ve just been a little tired…”

“Oh, I can tell…” he replies in a voice that makes you quirk a brow at him.

“Wait… you can?”

“Sure,” he shrugged, “your face looks bloated, your eyes are all puffy, and you walk around as if you’re six months pregnant… it’s honestly pretty depressing to witness…”

“Oh…” is all you managed to say.

Usually, you’d be a bit offended if someone said you looked tired, but from Shotaro’s perspective, it seemed like he expressed those thoughts out of concern.

“Y’know, the best part about not having a demanding job or being in college is that you have more time to take care of yourself… both outside and within…”

“Okay?” You replied redundantly, not sure on where he was going with his “Shotaro Wisdom.”

“I just think that you need a traditionally cooked Japanese meal to soothe your jet-lagged bones... it’ll be my treat…”

“Shotaro-san, my diet is just fine… and I get that you’re concerned, but you really don’t have to do all of that for me…”

“Well I insist... You spend all day and night either bound to your bed or roaming my kitchen, anyways, and that’s no way to fully experience the beauty of this city. You’ve gotta be more adventurous, ____-chan… otherwise, what’re you gonna write about in your cultural project, huh? Your adorable homestay host? My cherry blossom garden?”

Slam.

He dropped the dirty clothes basket on the hard wooden floor, and you’re just now realizing that you’d followed him all the way from your bedroom and into the infamous washing room.

Though, Shotaro in all his oddness was right about you… about you not being adventurous enough on this once in a lifetime opportunity to travel… and you know it was only out of shyness that you’d been hermiting for the past few days, but you really did need to get out more if you wanted any chance at writing a good paper—

“Can you pass me the detergent from up there please?”

“Sure,” you chirped, standing up on your tippy toes to reach the top shelf, and Shotaro couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“Thanks, pretty,” he said, and you fight with a bull’s strength to not make a face at the random pet name.

“N-no problem,” you finally replied, resting your hands at your hips as you watched him load the washing machine.

“So, what color are you wearing later?” He asked, and the question reminds you of his offer to take you out to eat.

“Ugh, I’ll let you know when I decide, but right now I’m thinking something either black or grey… what made you ask?”

“Because I wanna match with you,” he responded shamelessly, “That way, if we cross paths with any weirdos while we’re out, they won’t approach us because they’ll assume I’m your boyfriend...”

“Righttt…” you went on, thinking to yourself how weird these people must be if even HE’S calling them weird… “anything else you wanna say before I go and get dressed though?”

“Yes, actually... try to be ready by 14:00 p.m… my favorite chef’s on duty during mid-evening’s and you must try his dumpling soup recipe!…”

A few hours later, you found yourself on a tour of Tokyo beside Shotaro, taking photos of local shrines, indulging in delicious street food, and just simply enjoying the aura of the vibrant city together.

And as on par with his plans, you and Shotaro arrived at the traditional Japanese restaurant just in time to be served by his favorite chef.

Though, it's not like effort went very far once Shotaro got to drinking, which left you thoroughly entertained by his tipsy charisma.

“Heyy, these chopsticks are almost as big as your dildo back home,” Shotaro giggled while eating beside you, cheeks a flushed hue from the warmth radiating throughout his entire body...

I wonder how useful he’d be in this state if any alleged weirdo's approached us later on, you thought to yourself...

“Mhm… looks about seven inches to me,” you responded plainly, right before stuffing your mouth full with another flavorful soup dumpling.

“Wanna see how many I can stuff inside you before it doesn’t fit?” He went on to ask, eyes widening as if he just suggested something totally normal.

“Maybe another time,” you smiled half-heartedly, patting him gently on his head, “when you’re less drunk on… well, whatever the name of that drink you just had was…”

“It’s called shōchū, ____… say it with me!” He chirped with a raised hand to the sky.

“Shōchū,” you repeated again with him, a small smile creeping up your face.

“Yikes, your pronunciation needs a little work…”

“My apologies, Taro… I’ll make sure I work on that for you…”

“Aww… you’re giving me a nickname?” He pouted, leaning his head on you. “I had a dream about you the other night and you called me that same name… it was pretty explicit, though…”

“You can tell me about it later…”

“Okay… what do you think of the food?”

“It’s really tasty, actually. Thanks for taking me out, I really needed this…”

“You’re welcome… thanks for letting me lean on you, too… most people push me away when I do that…”

“And by most people, you mean Euijoo-san, right?”

“Yes… he claims to dislike touch with his words, but he genuinely loves it… I remember one time we went clubbing together, and a really hot girl kept trying to dance on him… he awkwardly pushed her away, but he couldn’t stop thinking about it once we got home…”

“Interesting… do you always overshare like this when you’re drunk?”

“Not like I’d remember anyways,” he shrugged, “can you tell me a secret about something, though? To even out the playing field?”

“Huh…. This isn’t really a secret, but I rarely admit this… I have a tendency to judge people before getting to know them…”

He was quiet at first, stirring the foggy broth in his bowl with a chopstick before asking quietly, “Like you judged me?”

“Yes, like I judged you… you seemed… I don’t know… weird at first? And a bit overbearing, too…”

“All those things are true though,” he giggled.

“Sure, but… never mind, you’re right… I still think you’re weird…”

“Oh yeah? Just wait til I tell you about—”

“Later, Taro… I’d love to hear all about it then…”

TIMESTAMP: 8日目

You and Shotaro developed a quirky friendship with each other, and it was quite refreshing in contrast to your initially rocky start with him.

He was a pervert. You caught onto the way his eyes watched you through the cracks of doors, or fell to glance between your legs every time the chance was made available. Always caught him going through your things under the excuse that “if it’s under my roof, it’s under my control.”

So, you made clear to him a few of your own boundaries, and luckily, he agreed to respect them… for the most part…

The rules followed a simple list…

1. “No more sneaking and spying on me.”

2. “No more going through my things.”

3. “No more walking around naked when I’m around.”

4. “No more weird questions about my sex life.”

In the last four days, he followed you to the bathroom three times, asked about your sex toy twice, and walked around the house half-naked only once… you’d say that was a good sign of improvement, honestly…

You kept yourself busy by annotating every relevant detail and observation from your time in Japan this far, and you were slowly starting to gain reassurance in your abilities to produce an excellent cultural project in time for the deadline.

TIMESTAMP: 12日目

One evening, after yet another day full of laughter and cultural escapades alongside Shotaro, you and him found yourselves lounging on the tatami mats in his living room, enjoying a bowl of miso soup, stewed meat, and some of Shotaro’s homemade onigiri.

Earlier that day, you and him were busy cooking in the kitchen together, where he even shared with you a few of his not-so secret secret Osaki family recipes.

He took the honors of playing photographer for you though as you offered to tuck the seaweed wraps around the triangular mounds of sticky rice.

“Look at you, you’re a natural at this, pretty,” Shotaro complimented you while snapping a few more pictures, and you shook your head at the comical tone of his voice, “now all there’s left to work on is pronouncing ‘onigiri’ properly!”

“Ha ha, you’re so hilarious,” you replied sarcastically, making him chuckle slightly at his own sense of humor, or perhaps, the lack thereof.

There was one moment in particular though that really got your heart racing between him… it was when he scooted himself behind you as you stirred the bubbling pot of miso soup, guiding your wrist with his delicate hand.

“You have to stir carefully from the bottom ____-chan, or else you’ll break up the chunks of tofu we just neatly cut up,” Shotaro whispered from above you, given the height difference, and you’ve never heard his voice sound so calm til now.

He let you lead your own hand for a bit just to check that you had the stirring motion down on your own, and he smiled softly once you did it correctly.

“Like this?” You asked, feeling a lot more nervous than expected while he was so close to you, despite how the other night at the restaurant and bar you found it much less nervous inducing when Shotaro kept leaning his head all over you.

“Mhm… just like that,” he hummed, right before his warmth left you as he walked away to return back to cutting up the stew meat…

Since that moment, the air was filled with an electric tension that neither of you had acknowledged yet as the sun began to set, casting its warm glow through the shoji screens.

In the middle of Shotaro telling you a story about his childhood though, the jingle of keys sounded at the front door as EJ invited himself to join you two once his shift at the local bakery ended.

“I come bearing treats!” He smiled vibrantly, right after bowing his head slightly to show his respects.

“Euijoo-san, how nice of you to join us,” Shotaro said in a corny accent, “how was work?”

“Exhausting… especially because I lost track of time and missed my lunch break…”

“Awww, bummer,” you pouted, “I’ll fix you a plate while you wash up then…”

“Ahhh, thanks a billion, ____-chan… since my own best bro doesn’t seem to care about me anymore,” the young man sulked playfully, and Shotaro widened his eyes in confused offense.

“What d’you mean I don’t care about you? I literally made you onigiri with my bare freaking hands, you ungrateful fart—”

“Acts of service may be YOUR love language, but it isn’t mine,” EJ reminded his friend before dramatically crossing his arms and walking out of the room, “remember that the next time you insult me, Shotaro-san… hmph…”

A few more minutes passed before the third member of your uncanny trio settled down to eat with you guys, provoking you to take a deep breath, summoning courage within yourself.

“Euijoo-san, Shotaro-san… you both have truly made my time in Tokyo one to remember,” you began, watching them shyly nod as your words touched the tenderness of their hearts.

“But,” you went on, voice catching slightly as you tried to keep their attention, “my time with you all is dwindling, and by that, I mean tomorrow is my last day here…”

You watched as the expressions on their faces shifted from joyful camaraderie to sudden surprise, and you couldn’t shake the guilt ones bulding up inside you now.

They had made the Japanese lifestyle seem so inviting for you that just acknowledging that you’d be departing soon hurt…

“No way, it’s been two weeks already?” Euijoo exclaimed with shock, his chopsticks paused mid-air. “Can’t your school let you stay a little longer? I’m sure Shotaro doesn’t mind opening his house to you for an extension…”

“I really wish I could take that offer, Euijoo-san,” you replied, offering a soft smile to hopefully ease his emotions, “I just have to get back for school… plus, changing my flight dates so late wouldn’t be a wise move on my part…”

Shotaro looked down for a moment, a flicker of disappointment crossing his sullen, otter-like features. “It’s been so nice having you around here,” he said quietly, his tone laced with something that you couldn’t quite decipher, but you knew it was different from his usual chipper.

After dinner, the three of you tried to shift the energy by sharing a few more stories and cleaning up the kitchen together, your harmonious laughter echoing beneath the dim house lighting.

Excusing yourself, you eventually retreated to your bedroom after everything was tidied up, but your mind remained a swirling sea of freshly acquired memories of the past few days.

You were gonna take a walk to clear your head and sight-see for what might be your last chance, but your plans were cut short once you realized it was past your curfew, the clock reading 8:00pm on the dot, and you respected Taro too much now to disregard his rules…

Sighing, you closed the door to your room, the world outside faded away, leaving you only to your thoughts and the slightly improved clutter of personal items that you’d worry about packing up tomorrow morning.

You were too emotionally drained to do anything in this moment, other than something to take the edge off… and quickly…

Across the hall, Shotaro sat in the living room, wishing he could shake off the heaviness in his chest. He had grown so fond of you over the last days, your laughter, your genuine curiosity about everything around you and your interest in his culture... The sound of the sliding door to your bedroom clicking shut reached his ears.

“No more sneaking around and spying on me,” your voice faintly resounded from a few days ago in the back of his mind, but a certain impulse washed over him, and he couldn’t help but draw himself to your room, once step at a time.

And it came to no surprise that the clicking sound he heard wasn’t even from the door, but better yet, your suitcase latch after your brief search for the infamous cylinder wrapped in cloth.

You still hadn’t learned how to properly lock the doors behind yourself again, which is why you set that no peeking rule down in the first place… you knew secrets enticed Shotaro, but in this moment, you just focused on taking care of yourself… just like Shotaro said, both outside and within…

Kneeling down, Shotaro edged himself towards the door, where a slender crack allowed him a stingy look inside.

The soft glow of your dresser lamp illuminated the room, casting gentle shadows along your bedsheets and your now half-naked body.

You wore nothing but a baggy T-shirt and panties as you got positioned into your back, legs spread just enough for Shotaro to see everything… your graceful and seren silhouette, and your pulsating core… it all caught his attention, and it all made him all the more aroused…

Luckily for the both of you, EJ had locked himself up in his room to wash off his long day of work, and the sound of the water running faintly in the background acted as a timer for you to finish by.

You began to slid your panties down your hips, each motion fluid and unhurried as Shotaro's poor little heart raced, quickening the pace of his breath.

Slowly caressing over your skin with one hand, you reached for the dildo with the other, and unbeknownst to you, Shotaro was just a few feet away from you, untying his pants as his semi-hard dick sprung out, almost hitting the door.

You just hoped that Shotaro had busied himself somewhere in the house so he wouldn’t find you like this… though, once the head of the toy circled your clit before you slowly lined the head up with your entrance, your mind couldn’t shake the thought of him…

The thought of how he’d feel inside you, or the thought of his hands pinning yours over your head and to the mattress…

Finally inserting the toy all the way, you felt your breath hitch as you started sliding the dildo in and out of your cunt, already coating it in your slimy juices.

The room was silent except for the sound of your own soft gasps bouncing off the walls. Shotaro licked a stripe of spit up his hand before cupping the base of his cock with his palm, already too caught up in the private world of his thoughts to care about how perverted of him this was.

The way he stroked himself mirrored the pace that you set for the dildo as you kept fucking yourself, circling your hips against the mattress as you somehow widened your legs even more.

And by now, Shotaro was in visual heaven, despite the fact that he hated how slow you were going with it… he hated that he couldn’t make himself go any faster until you did.

“Nghh~” a needy mewl ripped from under your breath, and Shotaro felt himself shiver at the way you lifted your hips into the toy now, gripping at your tit with your free hand.

Words can’t begin to describe how badly he wished he could cup your breasts in his hands…

Your hole was impressively taking all of the toy’s girth, but from the looks of it, your pussy was still suffocating around it, being stuffed to the brim as your walls quivered in ecstasy.

So that’s how she likes to be fucked, Shotaro thought to himself, and your lips ironically started to cry out yes as he kept his grip firm around his shaft.

A stream of your own arousal dripped unto the sheets, coating the dildo and your pussy lips in a delicious shine, and Shotaro swore he would’ve sold his soul just to get a taste—

“Shit,” he swore, a free hand flying to cover his mouth as he can barely keep his sounds in now.

You picked up the pace, and he pumped his cock even faster, knowing better than anyone that his rough fingers didn’t feel half as good as your pussy probably does.

He watched the way your tightness gripped at the dildo every time it hit that special spot inside you, and at this point, you were too turned on to pretend like you don’t hear him.

When he had cursed, you noticed his boba eyes peeking at you, and although your first instinct was to shut your legs and scold him, you let the moment take its course…

“Taro,” you said in a seductive voice… one that comes out naturally because of the state you’re in, “you’ve never been very sneaky, y’know that?”

His round eyes nearly popped out of his head at your offer, and he was torn between whether he should pretend like this never happened or just adhere to your lust-laced words.

“Q-quit being shy, Taro,” you whined out again, stammering over your own words as the dildo started to vibrate, “just get in here before I- fuck... ch-change my mind...”

Shotaro could hardly believe his own ears once you announced your scandalous invitation to him, and doesn't think he's ever put his dick away so quickly, either...

Carefully sliding the door open, he slipped through the narrow gap he provided for himself before locking the door back behind him and joining you on the bed.

You were definitely feeling a little less bold now that he was barely a few inches away from you, but the ways his eyes flickered between glancing at your face and then your sloppy cunt motivated you somehow—

“Want some help with that?” He offers quietly, and you respond by slipping the thick toy from your hole, a wet pop filling the room as you lazily held it towards him.

And although his face still appears like a cross between shocked and dumbfounded, his body posture is confident as he takes the toy from your grasp, caressing your exposed thigh just to see you shiver.

He give you one more glance for approval as if your consent wasn't already obvious enough before sliding the tip of the toy between your slick folds, but he's applying a lot more pressure than you did when handling it... not that you had a problem with it anyways...

“You're so sensitive,” he chuckled slightly, watching the way your torso clenched as he pressed the dildo against your entrance, and you're suddenly feeling shy yourself now-- “And pretty,” he continued, complimenting the view of your beautiful bare body before him, the purest look of lust upon both your faces, “so, so pretty...”

A soft moan escaped your mouth as he pushed the toy all the way inside you now, and his method of pumping you felt way better than what you usually did for yourself.

“T-Taro,” you whined, watching as he continued to fuck your cunt open with the dildo, fully focused on pleasing you... he was so fascinated by the way your walls clenched around the silicone, lewd noises filling the room as you grew even hazier in your head.

“What is it, ____?” His voice came out deeply as his gaze barely met yours from behind his neatly cut bangs, his cold hand pressing firmly on the bulge in your stomach, as created by the long toy inside you.

“T-touch yourself,” you whimpered, reaching down to grab his wrist as the pressure he applied became too much for you to speak over, “while you keep touching me...”

That's all it took for him to slowly get to work on shimmying down his pants again, and single-handedly at that. The tip of his cock was sore with a throbbing need as he took his shaft in his free palm, stroking it to the same pace that he set for the dildo inside you.

And his moans were joining yours now, his starved out teeth biting at his lower lip as he continued gliding the toy in and out of your pussy, making your eyebrows furrow at the sight before you.

You imagined that the dildo was his cock as you threw your head back against the pillows, closing your eyes while he did the same by imaging you were responding this way from taking his cock, fucking the pathetic silicone into you just like his hips would.

And as badly as the intrusive thoughts were telling him to toss the toy and just fuck you properly himself, he knew there was a better way to help you get past the sexual frustration of not coming... and he didn’t want to pressure you into doing something you weren’t completely down for…

“Play with your clit for me, baby,” Shotaro slurred while speeding up the movements of his hand pumping his length, and you adhered to his words immediately, sliding your hand down to rub at your sensitive spot just like he told you to.

“That's it baby,” he sighed, chest heaving as he felt himself reaching the point of no return, “you're close, aren't you pretty?”

“S-so close,” you winced desperately, and it only takes a few more thrusts of his hand and circles of your own finger before you were falling over the edge, covering your mouth with the back of your hand to keep your moans in.

And your eyes are pricking with tears given how good the stimulation felt, but you knew Shotaro hadn’t reached his climax yet.

With the little energy you had meddling within your system, you sat up to meet him where he sat, the dildo still jammed inside your pussy as you pulled his face to kiss you, and the contact was hungry… Shotaro’s own mouth gaping open to groan as you kept your grip tight around his neck while looking deeply into his eyes.

He was a panting mess now, and you wanted to help him feel just as good as he had made you feel.

“____, you don’t have to—”

“Shhh,” you interrupted his choked out sentence, kissing him once again as you moved your hand to take the place his around his shaft, “let me return the favor, baby…”

Although a bit delayed, Shotaro eventually nodded in compliance, resting one of his free hands behind him to brace his weight on the bed and his other free hand at you ass where he spanked you slightly.

“B-bounce on it,” his voice came out, and a bit strained in tone as he spanked you a little harder this time, reeling a soft whine out of you, “p-please baby, ride that dildo while you jerk my co— holy fuckk…”

You were still so sensitive in this moment, so the overstimulation was insane once you started grinding against the toy, lifting your hips to ride it as he watched with lust-ridden eyes.

And your delicate hands were doing such a good job of pumping him, too, stroking his length at just the right pace while paying extra attention to the head of his cock, the part that you knew would make him feel the best.

“God, you’re so fucking good at that, pretty,” he praised, and you kissed him instead of saying anything, bouncing so hard now that even the bed is starting to squeak beneath you two.

And the sound made Shotaro smirk… the sound of your juices squelching around the toy… of your heart beating fast behind your chest… the gentle meals escaping you, and the sound of your hand stroking him to heaven—

“Fuck!” He suddenly cried out, as quietly as he could as to not alarm EJ, and that’s when you knew he had finally reached his climax.

Breaking from his lips, you reached behind yourself to grab the scarf you used to wrap up the toy and held it over the top of his cock, just in time for his pearly spurts of his release to fill up the cloth.

Your warm hand slowly pumped the girth of his shaft, continuing to milk him dry as his hand gripped your hips tightly at the feeling, and you’re certain you’d have a bruise there later from his force.

And there is was again… Shotaro’s infamous smile as he sighed beneath his breath, releasing his grip on your hip while looking into your eyes now.

“Sorry I messed up your scarf,” he said plainly, and you can’t help but smile at his remark.

“Eh, it’s alright,” you returned, taking the bundle of fabric from his cock and holding it in your hand, “you’re in charge of laundry duty, anyways…”

Both of your cheeks were as warm as fresh baked milk bread now as you awkwardly lifted your hips off the dildo, the slimy object falling from your hole with a gentle pop as you took the cum rag and wrapped the toy in it, too.

“So…,” he began, voice returning to its usual pitch as you helped shimmy his pants back up, “do you always cum that hard, or was that orgasm special just for me?”

“Shut up,” you scorned playfully, nudging his shoulder slightly to which he chuckled alongside you.

But that’s when you both noticed it… the sound of the water running had stopped, and you’re sure it hasn’t been running for a while.

The two of you exchange worried looks as your ears keen in on the sounds behind the door, if any at all…

“Should I just…?” Shotaro started to ask while getting up from the bed, but you placed a hand at his thigh, keeping him in place.

Step, step, step.

Euijoo’s house slippers slid across the floor as he made his way to your bedroom door, the silhouette of his frame being clear as day behind the slightly opaque door, and you wonder just how much he can see from his point of view.

“Hey, is Shotaro-san in there with you?” He asked, visibly tucking his hands in his pajama pants pockets, “I heard the bed creaking, and he has a strict ‘NO-SEX IN THE HOUSE’ policy…”

“Yes, he’s in here—”

“We weren’t having sex.”

You and Shotaro’s of your voices came out at the same time, and by this point, EJ is really confused, even though both of your sentences were 100% the honest truth.

“Right,” is all the poor boy says before turning on his heel and walking in the opposite direction, “just make sure you end your little sleepover in time for me to get my work clothes washed by tomorrow morning…”

⋆♱✮ Thank you to everyone reading this fic of mine, which actually concludes DAY 3 of my Kinktober Event !! Also, if you're interested in reading more works like this, feel free to check out my main enhypen masterlist or my kinktober masterlist by clicking one of these links !!

⋆♱✮ PERMANANT TAGLIST:

@squoxle, @nishiimuranights, @ashgonedash

@yourmomscuntis2tighy, @wonbinisbabygurl

@watamotee33, @addictedtohobi, @ot7sevenlvr

⋆♱✮ KINKTOBER TAGLIST:

@pasteltheghost16 @fawnpeaks @melonvrs

@mheretoreadff @skzfelixlove @inishij

@yaorzu-blog @andromedawillburyyou @ramyeonzprincess

@zaihypen @simjaeyunns @gardenwonnies @hynier

@idontknowhowtomakeusernames @enhymeowz @minhosimthings @stormy1408

@crownj1min @jay-0n3s @gacktsa @leeknowinggg

#riize #riize smut #shotaro smut #riize ff #riize x reader #riize hard thoughts #riize imagines #riize scenarios #shotaro imagines #shotaro scenarios #shotaro x reader #shotaro osaki #shotaro riize

281 notes · View notes

remxedmoon · 6 months ago

Text

“the valiant bison. it leaps to protect its fellow creatures, but not you.”

hooved

2 power - 8 health - 3 blood

protector - when a creature on this card’s side of the field is about to take damage, this card will jump forward to take the hit instead.

sharp quills - once a card bearing this sigil is struck, the striker is then dealt a single damage point.

BISABEAU!! YIPEEE! and a fancy custom sigil to go with him! wow! writeup below, as always

that custom sigil huh!! i had to rewrite that description SO MANY TIMES and it STILL ISN’T PERFECT GRAAAA. i couldn’t fit it into the proper description, but isa’ll return to his original spot after taking the hits. he basically redirects all attacks on his teammates to himself. like a moleman but in reverse.

also ^ he won’t try to protect terrain cards! because that’s a boulder. not his friends. the entire concept around the sigil is based around him protecting his friends from harm.

sharp quills is there to let him counterattack while covering for his allies! fun fact, in my original concept for this card, this was replaced with the mighty leap sigil?? for some reason??? even though airborne cards can’t attack cards on the field?????? idk what my thought process there was. thank god i caught that before finalizing his card

don’t ask how he has sharp quills btw. it’s uhh. his horns. yes. the quills are his horns.

i went back and forth between calling him a bison or a buffalo. his design was based more on water buffalo than american bison? but i ended up going with bison just because it was shorter lol. plus the bisabeau pun. i am beholden to the pun.

you might’ve noticed that the patch is in a different spot here! i couldn’t find a spot that didn’t cover an important part of the card. so i had to go through the miserable experience of moving the patch and cutting it out even more thoroughly to prevent it from messing up the pixels around it. somehow that damn patch was harder to make than the CUSTOM SIGIL.

speaking of the sigil patch. he gets burrower! which makes him move to any empty space that’s about to be attacked. functionally, this means that ALL damage on the board will get redirected to him. except for airborne attacks i guess

this card doesn’t have a hidden trait! and there’s a reason for that! because…

“a meek, unassuming calf. it has not yet learned its own strength.”

hooved

0 power - 2 health - 2 blood

fledgling - a card bearing this sigil will grow into a more powerful form after 1 turn on the board.

clinger - when one of your creatures is placed in a space, a card bearing this sigil will move towards them as far as possible.

TWO CARDS!! he gets to have a fledgling form :3

fledgling is self explanatory i think? i wanted to keep some kind of reference to his Change and this was the best way i could think of! lil baby thing based on his past self…

clinger is a sigil from act 3! it’s like. only on the lonely wizbot i think. initially i was just going to give them sprinter (which makes them move to a different space after attacking) but it felt… too similar to the elk fawn for my liking. and it felt more appropriate character-wise

this card is also part of the reason why i went with bison. buffalo calf is a long name!!!

idk how well it comes across but they have their lil braid!! i wanted to include the glasses in some way but it felt a little out of place with the card design. so they only have the braids. a necessary sacrifice

i realize that burrower is a TERRIBLE sigil for this card but! i had to keep it consistent with his mature form. hope your bison calf doesn’t fling itself into danger and die! oops!

that’s everything to do with these cards! phew! that was a lot of text. here’s the patchless versions!

#marshdoodles #isat #in stars and time #isat spoilers #inscryption #isatscryption #in stars and scrybes #HHHH this was a LONG ONE #goddd i should not be writing these all in one go. these’re gonna have like 3 hour gaps between each post i think #but i’m writing them all at once. my head hurty #i was thinking of separating these into 2 different posts #but ehh… they’re too Linked for me to post them separately. they’re the same card!!#isa’s card art definitely pushes the pseudo-inscryption art style a bit but he looked too pretty for me to change him #out of all the cards i think he took the longest? don’t quote me on that #the custom sigil + patch issues inflated that a bit

292 notes · View notes

rootspiral · 2 months ago

Text

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 5 part 2

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])

I was so looking forward to brighten this particular scene, it's the darkest yet and it's such a beautiful one it's a pity to miss even one detail

oh no lilia stop being so cute????

have you ever seen jen with a bigger smile? and she's quiet as usual, it's almost like more than the ride she's enjoying how much fun her friends are having. especially lilia, those two have been forming a bond that is equal parts bickering and a growing respect

I'm just glad alice had this moment of pure unadulterated joy before it came all crashing down

agatha is very, very quiet. despite never letting herself feel anything freely, she takes a moment to close her eyes and enjoy the beauty of it all

she looks back at rio, so sensual and confident

how can kathryn hahn convey so much with so little time? her breath catches at her sight. and then worry and fear take hold and she gives the tiniest shake of her head, as if she's forbidding herself to entertain any kind of thought about rio. she looks away. the blood moon behind her spells disaster

meanwhile billy is that kid who has the time of his life hanging out with the teachers during a field trip

I want to personally thank aubrey plaza for every acting choice she made as rio, but ESPECIALLY for this witchy laugh

(I just brightened the salem seven witch vomiting bees and it's actually pretty impressive! but I don't want to trigger any insect haters around here) (I love insects though so please talk to me about spiders if you want)

they couldn't get a good look at the cabin before rushing in and I couldn't either until now, do we know if it's something from Agatha's past? did she use to live there?

I'm salty that alice had to die in these stupid clothes

So. I think this trial is the most fucked up and humiliating yet. Billy knew nothing about jen except superficial facts, so he put her in a scenario that matched her work aesthetic, more of a personal insult than a wake up call (compare it with the broom lilia just made for her: roots and flowers, something that speaks about jen's work, beliefs and traditions.)

Alice's trial was entirely based on lorna, we know billy is a big fan so he ran with that concept creating something that really shook alice, and not in a good way. she was forced to sit in her dead mom's house and wear her clothes for god's sake. she took it as the Road wanting to teach her a lesson, when it was just a teenager with the grace and subtlety of a newborn puppy.

Now, agatha. billy doesn't know a thing about her because she's private to the point of paranoia. he has gathered that there's something in her past about a dead child and that's probably what makes her grumpy, so he... tried to make her talk to nicky. with a fuking oujia board. Despite having had his share of shock and trauma billy inevitably has a kid's point of view re: death, and even more so because he's functionally immortal. death is something that happens to other people, or far far away in the future. he thinks he's giving agatha much needed therapy, when he actually put a grown woman in child's clothes and made her relive her traumas for everyone to see.

btw I'm not in any way saying that the trials are bad writing. they are brilliant writing. they're just tragic and fucked up behind the funny exterior, just like agatha herself. sorry for the rant.

I mean I wouldn't be opposed to that. we could put billy back in a closet for a little while and get down and dirty with it. and ooh there's a little leaf on rio's shirt, I hadn't noticed it!

jen's retainer always SENDS me

agatha's face when she realizes it's her trial

agatha is irrevocably, eternally linked with death in all its forms

looks like rio is playing along and setting the scene, but she's also doing something more subtle that only agatha understands: she's provoking her, and it's becoming more personal and hurtful. she's testing and punishing more than she used to. she is growing angrier.

agatha wants to tell rio to fuck off but knows she deserves it. agatha is NOT happy to be in this trial for reasons that go beyond what everyone present (except rio) assumes, but she'll bite the inside of her cheeks until they bleed before she shows any of it

the way he says it with a straight face too (again, NO PUN INTENDED. forgive me joe, I would never)

oh great alice has only thirty minutes to live

everyone looks worried and on their guard, rio has her whole knife out, playing along. agatha is STILL trying to look cool and casual, it's painful to watch. girl is panicking, hard

meanwhile billy is always bringing a whole different energy, he's playing and having fun! think back to the second episode when they met lilia and then jen and alice for the first time. billy had no clue about the tension, the fear and hate between them and agatha. right now he's still more excited than scared. he's about to have a rude awakening.

do not taunt the spirits, AGATHA.

lmaooo. this motherfucker.

another moment when billy sounds chillingly cruel. being jigsaw without realizing it

I'm not pointing it out every time but whenever agatha does this with her arms she's really, really really nervous

what does agatha do when she's scared or overwhelmed? she puts on a show. like clockwork. and rio has already guessed what's about to happen

I really want to continue this so there will be more later today, stay tuned!

go to episode 5 part 3

#agatha all along #agatha deep dive #agatha harkness #billy maximoff #rio vidal #alice wu gulliver #lilia calderu #jennifer kale #character study

141 notes · View notes

aothotties · 5 months ago

Text

Mommy Chaser pt. 3

Previous Chapters: (1)(2)

Warnings: swearing, masturbation, protected sex, riding, cunnilingus (m & f receiving), biting, fingering, multiple orgasms, pet names, lots of kissing!

Word count: 3.9K

Note: I am SO sorry it took me this fucking long to post this but I hope you all enjoy it!! :)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Mika, I don’t want to jinx anything with Eren but he’s damn near perfect.” You gush to your best friend while you pace back and forth.

“Y/N! You must like him if you’re talking like this, are you sure you two haven’t slept together yet?” She asks somewhat playfully, Jean is sitting right next to her waiting for you to answer.

“Ha ha, you know I haven’t slept with him. I can’t lie to you and say I’m not curious though.” You lay on the bed and bite your lip at the memory of your last encounter.

The smell of his cologne filled your nostrils when he wrapped his arms around you for a hug. Or the comforting feeling of his muscular abdomen against your fingertips.

“Are you still there?” You’re drawn out of your daydream by Mikasa and feel heat rush to your cheeks.

“She’s probably thinking about getting dicked down right now.” Jean mumbles and your jaw quickly drops at such a wild, but somewhat true, accusation.

You hear a smack and a yelp from Jean before Mikasa apologizes for his vulgar statement.

“Please ignore him, we’re playing drunk board games and somebody’s having fun.”

You can feel the poor woman’s embarrassment through the phone and let out a giggle to reassure her.

“That sounds like fun, and even though your husband is an idiot…he’s not completely wrong.” You can’t help but admit defeat as more reminders from the other night flood your mind.

“Oh my he’s really on your mind, isn’t he? I say go for it; I’ve known him for a long time and he’s a good guy. You deserve to move on and be happy.” You feel your worries die down the more she speaks, it’s almost like she’s giving you her blessing.

“He’s corny as hell and eats enough for three people!” Jean adds and receives another light smack, this time he pulls Mikasa on top of him.

You laugh and roll your eyes at his drunken words. You stare at the phone in confusion when there’s a lingering silence, soon followed by whispers and giggling.

“Y’all, I’m still here. I’ll call you guys tomorrow night. Love you!”

“We love you more! Let us know how everything goes, Jean!” You hear your friend let out a fit of giggles before the line disconnects.

You swipe over to your messaging app and sigh nervously. Your thumbs hover over the keyboard for a few minutes, you chew on your bottom lip and let out a sigh.

You’re not even sure why you’re so anxious about all of this. Your baby girl is with her grandmother for the weekend, you don’t have to stress about working at all. It’s quite literally the perfect weekend for him to come over.

“It’s now or never.” You mumble to yourself and start typing on the screen below.

You smile at the last message before double-tapping it and leaving a heart. The feeling of the soft mattress and warm blanket have you drifting off.

On the other side of

town Eren is acting like a teenage boy. If he could bounce off the walls in excitement he absolutely would, he’s only slightly ashamed of the bulge in his pants forming. It’s not his fault you’re the most divine woman in his eyes, you’re just so perfect.

The thought of knowing that he’s going to finally get to see all of you, he’ll finally get to touch and squeeze your perfect breasts. All the nights of imagining what you look, feel and taste like have him leaking precum.

He pulls off the suffocating boxers and lets out a hum of relief when the cool air makes contact with his hot tip. A thick hand wraps around the base and drags up, massaging the pink tip each time.

“Y/N” He whines as he rapidly fuck his fist, his free hand grabs the sheets below as he gets close to his release.

His tipping point is the thought of what your tight pussy is going to feel like wrapped around him. The hand grabbing the sheets slaps over his mouth as he moans loudly into his palm.

He falls back onto his pillows and lets out a sigh of relief as he catches his breath. He looks down at the mess on his hand and huffs sleepily.

“Just one more day.” He mumbles to himself while wiping the sticky fluid off himself.

The next day finally rolls around and you’ve never felt more nervous for anything in your life.

“Pull yourself together girl, you’ve had lots of sex before.” You say to yourself in the mirror while gently patting your cheeks.

Your pep talk comes to an end when you hear the doorbell ring, you look over yourself once again in the mirror before shutting the light off.

“Who is it?” You ask as you walk up to the door, a smile forms when you look through the peephole and see Eren on the other side.

“It’s your future husband, open the door, sweetheart.” He responds playfully and you shake your head to refrain from laughing.

You quickly unlock the door and move to the side so he can walk in. He drops his bag on the floor and removes his shoes before pulling you into a hug.

You wrap your arms around his neck and he pulls you in closer. You take a deep breath and get a whiff of his cologne.

“You smell nice.” You mumble against his chest, he rests his chin on top of your head and hums contently.

“Thank you, I was thinking of you when I bought it. Are you hungry? I brought snacks for us to have.” He sets you back on the ground and you shake your head in response.

“I had lunch not too long ago, I can make you something if you’re hungry.” You politely offer and he’s the one to shake his head.

“I ate beforehand too, and when it’s time to eat dinner will be on me. I’m gonna be treating you today. Now show me one of those movies you were talking about.” He turns you towards the living room and you both sit on the couch.

“It’s called Bridgerton Eren.” You correct him, he playfully rolls his eyes and turns on an episode he’s never seen.

You get comfortable on the couch and cuddle up to Eren. You focus closely on the screen and give your full attention to the show.

In the few months of you two meeting one another, Eren has never understood why you love this show so much.

Maybe it’s the attractive cast members, or maybe it is the plot, he’ll just have to watch and see for himself. That only lasts for a few seconds before his eyes land on your focused state.

He grins at how entranced you are before the sound of moaning catches his attention. His eyes lock onto the TV and he raises an eyebrow.

“So this is what you watch when I’m not here?” He smirks at you and you shake your head.

“Not all the time! Sometimes I watch Modern Family or Brooklyn 99.” You say matter in rebuttal.

He nods his head and hums in response before giving his attention back to the screen. He watches closely as the actors kiss and caress each other so tenderly.

He shifts around on the couch to relieve some of the pressure in his underwear and glances to make sure you don’t notice anything. Thoughts of his hands groping your body and his lips kissing down your neck flood his mind as the scene goes on.

You’re no better, there’s wetness pooling in your panties at the thought of him ravishing your body. Oh, how you long to be able to feel his mouth on yours, whispering sweet nothings in your ear while you come from another orgasm.

You look over at Eren and are surprised to see how intensely he’s staring at the television. His Adam’s Apple moves up and down as he Mswallows nervously and keeps his eyes on the screen.

You sit up and hold back a laugh at the blush that forms on his cheeks.

“No I’m good, why are you alright?” He rubs the palms of his hands and his jeans and you nod in response to his question.

“I’m doing great, if you want we can watch something else.” You reach for the remote, he gently grabs your hand and shakes his head.

“You don’t have to do that, it’s fine. I’m fine.” He reassures you with a smile and a pat on the leg.

“You know what's nice about being a mom?” You tilt your head and run your fingers through his hair.

He inhales deeply and hums in relaxation at the feeling of your fingers massaging his scalp. He looks over at you and gives you a tired smile, he can’t help but crumble under each stroke of your fingers.

“You can almost always tell when someone’s lying.” You whisper in his ear and watch as he has a full-body shiver.

You place a finger on his lips to silence him. He swallows nervously but refuses to take his eyes off yours.

You find yourself climbing into his lap as if it’s your throne. The finger that was covering his lips traces the outline of his mouth.

He wraps an arm around your waist to pull you in closer, you close the space between you two and press your lips together.

You release his hair from its ponytail and tug gently at his roots, a groan falls from his lips at the sensation and his hands steadily move down your back, they hover above your ass and you pull away from his lips.

“You can touch me Eren, I want you to touch me.” You stroke his cheek with your thumb and he nods his head, he pulls you down by the back of your neck and slides his tongue in your mouth.

This time you’re the one that’s making sounds, you whimper into the kiss when his large hands rub the fat of your ass. His hips buck abruptly and your whimpers turn into moans, you can feel his hard cock against the fabric of your shorts.

Your hands grab at his shirt, urging him to take it off quickly. He gets the hint and pulls away from your lips to remove it. You bite your lip at the sight of his body from under you, you can’t help but trail a finger down his abdomen.

“Don’t be shy baby.” He teases and takes your hand trailing it down his body at a teasingly slow pace.

He smirks at how shy you’ve suddenly become, only watching his body and no longer making eye contact. He takes your hand and stops the movements at the waistband of his pants, you gulp and feel heat rush to your cheeks.

“Do I make you nervous, pretty girl?” He chuckles and tilts your chin upwards so that you’re both face to face.

You shake your head and take the opportunity to massage the outline of his dick through his sweatpants.

He hisses in pleasure and throws his head back against the couch, you experiment by replacing your hand with a roll of your hips.

“Fuck baby, do that again.” His hands help your hips grind back and forth, you fall forward and smash your lips on his.

He smirks against your lips as your moans get louder with each buck of your hips. He pulls back from your lips and raises your tank top, he leans forward and takes one of your nipples into his mouth.

“Eren!” You gasp in pleasure and dig your nails into his shoulder. He groans at the sting and gently bites down on the bud.

Your fingers tangle in his hair and you fear that you might come in your pants if he doesn’t let up, not like he would mind that anyway.

He pulls away and places a gentle kiss on your breast before taking the other bud into his mouth to give it equal attention. Your back arches and you feel more of your arousal soak into your panties, you know for a fact that there’s a wet spot on Eren’s pants.

Eren feels like he’s in heaven with the feeling of your hands in his hair and your clothed cunt grinding against him. He pulls off of your nipple with a pop and falls back onto the couch, he takes a moment to catch his breath.

“I’m not too much for you, am I?” He asks in all seriousness, you give him a genuine smile and shake your head in return.

“No Ren, not at all. If I’m uncomfortable then I’ll let you know.” You reassure him and press your forehead against his, craving the feeling of being as close to him as possible.

“I’m gonna touch you now if that’s okay?” He plays with the waistband on your shorts as he waits for an answer.

You permit him by moving next to him so you can slide your shorts and panties down simultaneously.

You move to sit back in his lap and he quickly stops you. He lays you back against the pillows on the couch and looks over your body.

“I want to get a good look at you first.” He praises, his eyes take their time as he scans every inch of your body. His dick hardens in his pants at the sight of your wet cunt right in front of him.

“Just a quick taste, yeah?” He asks more himself than you, he spreads your legs and makes eye contact with your heat.

His pink tongue licks a gentle stripe up your clit and you shudder at the feeling. After the positive reaction, he dives deeper into your cunt, and your hands immediately grab the couch.

His large hands securely grip your thighs and his tongue darts in and out of your dripping hole.

Your back arches off of the couch in response to the immense pleasure between your legs. He moans into your cunt as your juices flow down his throat, he rubs your clit with the pad of his thumb and watches you squirm around.

“E-Eren!” You gasp as you feel your orgasm creep up on you. Eren replaces his tongue with his fingers and licks your sweetness off his lips.

“You gonna come on my fingers, baby? Go ahead, princess.” His long fingers curve upward and you grab his wrist with a sense of urgency.

“I'm gonna cum Ren, f-fuck I wanna cum on you!” He pouts when you stutter and nips at your exposed neck, he places kisses up your neck and stops at your ear.

“You will baby, I want you to cum on my fingers too. I want you nice and wet for me.” He pulls you closer with his free hand and pumps his fingers at a quicker pace.

You pull him into a kiss and moan against his lips as you release on his hand, you bite his lip as you pull away and he removes his fingers from your cunt.

He slides a finger into his mouth and closes his eyes as he saviors your sweet nectar. You copy his actions and suck on his middle finger, making sure to maintain eye contact with him.

“You’re trying to kill me.” He says jokingly, his dick on the other hand jumps when you pull off of his finger.

“Not quite yet, I still have to return the favor.”

You press against his chest and undo the tie on his pants, your fingers drag along his thighs as you pull his pants and boxers off.

You watch in awe as his dick springs free and rests on his stomach. You wrap a hand around the base of his cock and massage the base, he sighs in pleasure at the feeling of your soft hand against his warm skin.

His eyes widen when your thick lips wrap around his sensitive tip, he looks down to see your brown eyes staring into his green ones.

You mentally pat yourself on the back at the look of deep pleasure displayed on his face. You take more of him into your mouth and relax your throat with each inch you

Eren gathers some of your hair and holds it up

into a makeshift bun, he hisses and watches you in admiration.

His eyes close tightly and he finds himself gripping the cushions on the couch. The feeling of your wet tongue massaging the veins on his dick has him seeing stars.

His grip on your hair tightens after you fully take him down your throat. Your moans send vibrations to his dick that spreads pleasure throughout his entire system.

“Fuck baby girl, you take me so well.” His grip loosens on your hair and he guides your lips up and down his shaft.

You moan at the salty taste of his precum coating your tongue, you take a look at the man above and squeeze your thighs at the imagery.

His head is thrown against the back of the couch, his chest heaving up and down as little pants leave his pink lips. His abs flex with each suction of your lips, and his pretty brown hair falls in his face when his eyes meet yours.

You give him a slight smile and he flashes you a weak one in return, he gently pulls you off his cock and back into his lap. He closes the gap between you both with his lips and sighs into your mouth. He pulls your shirt off and throws it somewhere in the living room.

You moan passionately as his soft hands roam your body so freely and delicately. He pulls away to catch his breath and gives you a small laugh.

“Not to ruin the moment, but there’s condoms in my bag.” He rubs your thigh with his thumb and you nod in remembrance.

“Oh shit, yeah you’re so right. Duh!” You ruffle through his book bag until you find the small aluminum package.

Tearing it open with your teeth, you raise your hips so you can properly slide it on him. He bites his lip and more precum can be seen dripping from his tip as the condom goes on.

You throw a leg over his waist and hold onto the back of the couch to maintain balance. He rests his hands on your hips and massages the skin to ease any nerves.

You lower yourself slowly and gasp at the feeling of his tip nudging its way through your entrance. Eren helps guide you down his shaft at a slow pace, his fingers grip your hips tighter and you moan at the stretch.

“T-take your time pretty girl. We’ve got all day.” He rubs your cheek with his thumb as your thighs tremble with each inch your pussy swallows.

You nod your head and focus on getting as much of his thick cock inside of you as you can. Erens mouth falls open at the way your tight heat sucks him in with each movement. You finally bottom out after a few more seconds of pacing yourself, he tangles his fingers with your manicured ones and kisses your hands.

“You okay?” He wraps a finger around one of your coils and you nod your head in return, he leaves small pecks on your cheeks to ease your mind.

“You’re a lot um, t-thicker than I imagined.” You sheepishly confess this brings a smirk and chuckle from the man below you.

“Is that so baby? You’re telling me my confidence didn’t give it away.” He teases, you hit his chest and he thrust upward in retaliation.

The sensation of his thick tip hitting your sweet spot draws a sultry moan from you.

“How do we get that sound to happen again?” He experimentally bucks his hips again from under you, you dig your nails into the couch at the stretch from his cock and the pleasure it’s bringing to your body.

“ ‘Ren! F-feels so good.” You throw your head back as you bounce up and down in his lap.

The green-eyed man below you watches in content as you set the pace and fuck yourself silly on his hardened cock. Jolts of pleasure course through his veins, and his heart rate speeds up with each movement of your hips.

“ c’mere beautiful.” He pulls you into another kiss and pistons his hips upward to fuck against your g-spot.

He holds you in by the back of your neck when you squirm in pleasure, your whines are swallowed by his groans which only egg him on further.

On your end, you feel another orgasm building up in your lower stomach. The feeling of satisfaction is drawn out of you each time his thick cock head taps your cervix. Your gummy walls draw him in more each time he fucks into you.

“I-I’m gonna come Eren! Please don’t s-stop.” You cry out as your second release quickly hits you, you fall limp against his lap and his thrust keeps you moving.

“Am I too much baby? You’re such a pretty girl.” He compliments you and watches as you try to weakly bounce atop him.

You shake your head and whimper as you climax against him yet again.

“I didn’t even do anything that time, I didn’t realize my sweet girl was so sensitive.” He playfully pouts and kisses your cheek delicately.

“ m-my legs are tired Ren.” You huff and he nods while giving you a sympathetic nod in return.

“ ‘s okay mama, let your man take care of you, just a little bit longer like this. You feel so good.” He praises through gritted teeth.

He has you wrap your arms around his shoulders while he holds the sides of your hips. He massages your smooth skin with his palms before controlling the speed of your hips, a low growl leaves his lips as your cunt drips down his eager cock.

“Oh my god, yes yes fuck!” You cry out as your climax rushes upon you again.

Any moans that Eren was holding fall out of his mouth as you clench and cream all over his thick shaft. He pumps his cock into you a few more times to ride out your orgasm before pulling out abruptly.

“Can you handle a little more baby?”

That was the last thing you remember before you awake from a deep slumber. The room around you is dimly lit by your bedroom lamp, which you didn’t even realize you made it to…

Your thoughts are interrupted by Eren peeking his head in the door with a bright smile. You return the gesture and signal for him to join you on the bed.

“Did you get enough rest? You were out for like 2.5-3 hours.” He holds back a laugh as you look away in embarrassment.

“Yeah, I think I’m well rested.” You let out a yawn and groan loudly as you stretch, your head turns to look at the time and your eyes widen.

“8:30?!? Eren you came over at like 1:45! Oh my god, are you hungry?” You rush out of bed and head to your kitchen, only to be surprised by takeout on the table.

“I told you, dinner and everything else today was on me.” You hear from behind you, you turn around and cross your arms.

“Well, don’t you just have the answers to everything?” You walk up to him and smile.

“Yeah, something like that.”

Ari

#aot x black reader #aot scenarios #aot smut #aot x reader #aot imagines #aot x female reader #eren x you #eren smut #eren x reader #eren yaeger x reader #eren yaeger smut #eren x black fem!reader #eren jeager smut #eren jeager x reader

204 notes · View notes

5-puthyyy · 17 days ago

Text

The Apprentice (Agatha x Rio x Reader) - Chapter 9

AO3 LINK

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary:

Life has been about survival for you ever since your coven banished you for the simplest thing: desire. Since then, you've travelled from Inn to Inn, making ends meet, until you sense a powerful Magick presence coming from two mysterious women. They take you in as their apprentice and you end up learning far more than what you came for...

CHAPTER WARNINGS! -- (18+ ONLY) SEXUAL CONTENT + MAMA KINK

Ch.1 ~ Ch.2 ~ Ch.3 ~ Ch.4 ~ Ch.5 ~ Ch.6 ~ Ch.7 ~ Ch.8 ~ Ch.9 ~ Ch.10

Breakfast, or rather, lunch at this hour, is heavy. The tension can be felt in the air, tasted, even, with how thick it is in the air. It’s choking you, forcing you to clear your throat every now and then to fill the silence. Agatha and Rio seem comfortable enough, humming to themselves as they butter their bread and swirl it in soup. Rio even reaches over to you with the end of her bread dripping into her open hand, and you open wide and bite, giving a shy smile of gratitude.

It’s awkward, or maybe it’s just you being awkward, not knowing how to act around them after the night – and morning – you just had together. How can they act so normal after that? How can they sit there humming and grinning at each other as if you haven’t invaded their relationship? Why don’t they hate you?

“Little dove, your thoughts are far too loud,” Agatha breaks the silence with a sigh, pairing it with a soft smile to you. Her eyes are glowing after the sleep she had, the desire you’ve been seeing in them sated now. Is that all it was? All you are? An itch that needed to be scratched and now they sit together, exchanging light and tender touches, their eyes communicated with one another while you sit as stiff as a board.

Rio groans, annoyed at your shyness and apparent awkwardness. “Were we not clear enough?” she asks, chugging down her cup of water.

“I just–” you start, hesitating, voice so hoarse from your silence that you need to clear your throat as a blush taints your cheeks, “I don’t understand what this means…”

Rio sighs, turning to talk to Agatha in a whisper. “Did she not read your book?”

Your brows scrunch together in confusion. Her book? Did she mean the history book Agatha wrote on witches?

“Apparently not all of it,” Agatha says, sending a playful glare your way. You turn away at being caught listening in on their quiet conversation, your blush even deeper now, trailing down your neck. They both follow it with their eyes, already hungry for more as they reach your free breasts covered by a thin white gown.

Rio suddenly grunts, snapping her head up as black colours the veins in her neck. You immediately get up, concern written all over your face. Agatha beats you to it with a hand to Rio’s cheeks, soothing her with a hum and understanding eyes.

“It has been too long,” Rio says, her voice dark and distorted. Begrudgingly, she forces herself to stand up, “I have to go to work. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone,” she finally meets your eyes, stepping towards you; her hand reaches up, fingertips gently stroking your jaw, “But I will be back. I promise.”

Leaning your cheek into her grounding touch, a soft sigh escapes your lips to hers as she presses closer, leaving a tender but firm lingering kiss on your lips. When your eyes finally flutter open, you see she’s doing the same to Agatha, the two of them holding each other in a passionate embrace as they say goodbye.

A few moments later, Rio’s standing on the porch dressed in a flowy, forest green gown with intricate patterns along the hood. She turns once, giving the two of you a kiss from her hand before disappearing in a poof of green smoke. If anything, you’re even more confused than you were earlier. What was that black in her veins? Where did Rio have to go? Why couldn’t you sense what type of Magick that was?

Agatha can see the questions running through your mind and pulls you into her arms, running her fingers through your hair. “All will be answered, little dove. Why don’t we head down to my study?”

It’s less messy this time round when you hesitantly walk into her study. Less being the key word here; the shelves are still overflowing with stacks on the ground, but at least it’s organised now. The first case is filled with spellbooks, the second history and social commentary, and the third literature. Agatha fusses at her desk for a moment while you stroll carefully, brushing the tips of your fingers along the broken leather spines of her books.

“What did you read the last time you were here?” Agatha asks, taking a seat in the large armchair by the equally large plant Rio’s likely put here.

“Uh, I couldn’t really understand most of the spellbooks I picked up, so I…” you hesitate, cheeks tinted pink now that you remember the last thing you read here. It was sexual by nature, a chapter on the impact of sharing pleasure within the witch community.

Agatha lifts a teasing brow. “You…?” she trails on, urging you to finish your thought. You refuse to, remaining stubborn as your teeth chew at your bottom lip. Instead, you march over to the bookcase and scan until you find the book you were reading. Agatha simply waits patiently until you walk towards her and timidly place the book in her hands.

“This one,” you murmur, to which Agatha snorts and shakes her head, glancing down to see which book it is.

A knowing expression takes over Agatha’s face, her brows relaxing and, lips curling into a soft smile. “Did you read it all?” Agatha asks, you shake your head ‘no’, “Would you like to go over it together?”

Agatha gives you no room to answer, instead tapping on her lap for you to take a seat. Shifting uncomfortably as you step side to side, your heart thuds so incredibly hard in your chest you fear it may fall out and land all bloody over Agatha’s poor lap.

“Y/N,” Agatha says sternly, lifting a brow that screams authority. With a gulp, you turn and slowly take a seat on her knee, barely putting any pressure. The witch below you sighs heavily, wrapping her arms around your waist to pull you closer and adjust you until the two of you are comfortable enough.

For a moment, your mind flickers back to Rio wondering if this is something she would approve of, or whether she would be upset at you and Agatha for engaging in such behaviour without her. But before you can think about that in any more depth, Agatha opens the book up straight to the chapter about her life.

“Did you read this one?” she asks softly, her breath warm against your ear. You gulp again and shake your head ‘no’, “Why not?” Agatha’s tone is delicate, curious, but not angry. It feels safe enough for you to answer, to be vulnerable without fear of rejection.

“I–I wanted to–I, well, I thought it would be wrong to read such intimate details about your life. Not without your permission.”

Agatha hums. “Well, I did give you permission to read whatever you would like to from my study, did I not?” Agatha reasons but you shake your head again, brows knitted together.

“No, it’s wrong to learn about you from a book. I want to learn about you from you.”

Agatha stays silent and you immediately think you have said the wrong thing. But she pulls you closer, burrowing her nose into the back of your neck to leave a gentle kiss against your skin. “You really are a treasure, little dove.”

You shift, blushing all over at the attention. “I’m not, not really.”

Agatha laughs under her breath, nipping at your skin in warning. “Did I not ask you to stop that?” she changes the topic back, “Now, what would you like to know?”

Suddenly, you’re stuck. Every question you had thought of has disappeared out of your mind. You end up settling on, “Uh, whatever you feel comfortable telling me?”

Closing the book with a sigh, Agatha sets it on the table to the side of the chair, leaning back to get comfortable once she’s done. You turn over your shoulder to sneak a glance at her but see her staring right at you with a soft expression that twists your insides. You’ve never felt this comfortable with someone; it’s catching you off guard and you’re not entirely sure how to cope with the way you’re feeling. All of it ends up being channelled into awkwardness and you’re terrified it’s going to make Agatha think you don’t want this, but you do. God, you do, so badly you think you’ve never wanted anything more.

“I was born in Salem, to a coven and a mother that did not…want me.”

Snapping your head back with a look of shock, but also understanding, you catch the vulnerability flashing in her eyes. “Your father?”

Agatha snickers at that. “Witches have never needed men,” she answers humouredly before carrying on, “My mother was cruel because my powers were different. I can siphon it from others, and as a child figuring this out came with…consequences.”

You can already decipher what she meant by that as her eyes darken, staring off over your shoulder. “That must have been difficult.”

Agatha breaks out of her daydream to look at you with furrowed brows. “No, my powers are fairly easy to navigate, I just didn’t understand what was happening.”

With a subtle, nervous lip bite, you raise a hand and gently hold her warm cheek. “I mean having no one to guide you and tell you it’s okay.”

A surprising but happy warmth takes over her eyes as she gazes into yours, softly leaning her face into your gentle hand. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry,” you pout, knowing exactly how it feels to be isolated, “It’s not easy, being alone. And to pair that with cruelty from your own blood? God, no child should ever have to go through that. Especially someone as…”

“As?” Agatha urges on, a hint of desperation in her tone as she waits to hear what you truly think of her.

“Especially someone with a heart as gentle as yours,” you whisper, eyes remaining tender.

Agatha’s lips part for a moment, not expecting you or anyone to see her that way, see past the protective walls she has carefully put up. “That’s–” she starts, but she’s unable to finish her sentence, choking on her words. Wordlessly, she decides to show you how you’ve made her feel by leaning forward until her lips brush yours, as gentle as ever.

Hitching your breath, you lean to reciprocate, sighing into her mouth as you suck on her bottom lip gently, fuelled by the soft whine she lets out. Her hands grip at your waist to turn you until you’re straddling her, gently rolling your hips as your tongue confidently swipes her lower lip. But the moment she pulls back to part them and let you in, you suddenly pull back, remembering Rio.

“Oh, God, this is wrong, I’m so sorry! What’s Rio going to think? This is beyond disrespect–”

Agatha growls, rolling her eyes at you before shushing you with another kiss. “Rio can have you later,” she says simply, possessively, wrapping her arms around you until you’re flush to her and unable to say no again. You can’t, you won’t, not when she’s kissing you with such fire, hands roaming, groping, memorising the way your body feels in her palms.

The anxious thoughts running through your head as gone as quickly as they appeared, losing yourself in her touch, her tongue, those delicate but strong hands, gentle but moving with intent. They know what they want; Agatha knows what she wants, her fingers already playing a soft tune along your spine until she reaches the base. They grip, squeeze, play with your ass forcing you to grind faster against her.

You’re embarrassingly wet, so soaked you’re sure she can somehow feel it already, sense it, even smell it if she just leans her head down a little. She does, pulling away from your eager, pouty lips to kiss at your neck, already marked bright with her lips. She smirks at the marks, at you, as if you are her canvas and she’s prideful of her work of art.

Every kiss here is softer than it was the night before, delicate little pecks over the bruised skin as if in soft apology, or affection, or everything. God, she’s everything, doing everything, making you feel everything. She’s all you want now, you think, whimpering softly with each kiss to your skin. It’s as if your sounds fuel her, give her power to continue, to keep taking, giving, taking, giving…

“Agatha…” you moan her name sensually, right into her ear in a soft sigh, breath hot against her. She can’t help but moan back at the sound, fingers tightening their grip, spreading you obscenely as you groan again, “Fuck, please.”

She makes you beg no more, wanting you just as desperately as you want her. There’s no push, only pull for the next few seconds as she drags your gown high over your thighs, gasping when her slithering hand finds your naked cunt within seconds.

“Nude? My, my, you really are naughty, aren’t you, sweetheart?” she smirks deliciously, fingers pressing into your naked heat as wicked as the expression taking over her face. The moan that slips out is involuntary, but she soaks it in and it fuels her confidence further, “You’re so wet already, it’s almost pathetic.”

She practically spits the word out; it’s twinged with darkness, laced with a hidden shot of venom, and, fuck, it’s addictive. You didn’t think your body would react this way but it does, rolling, writhing, whining for more. It is pathetic, and you will happily be so for her.

Agatha’s pleased with your reaction, growling into your neck and sinking her teeth into your skin the same moment she sinks two fingers into your pulsing walls. Back arching into her, you gasp and moan, immediately bouncing your hips up and down to start a rhythm.

“So beautiful,” Agatha whispers, more to herself than to you as she sighs, pants against the skin of your neck. She lets you control the rhythm, lets you bounce, roll, grind your hips however you please, “Taking me so well, little dove.”

Keening at her praises, your heart swells and thuds in your chest. Your head falls down onto her shoulder, burying deep into her, inhaling as much of her lavender and honey scent as you can. Agatha allows a moment or two of indulgence just because of how whiney you sound as you leak into her palm, grinding slowly to catch her wrist against your clit. But eventually she grips your hair with her free hand and pulls you back.

“Eyes on me, sweetling,” Agatha demands, almost hissing in her commanding tone.

She works you up with her fingers, curling them expertly with each thrust as you come down, brushing her thumb over your clit every now and then just to keep you on that edge, all while keeping those lust-filled dark eyes locked to yours. This is power for her, you realise, giving you pleasure, but taking away your control of it. It’s the way she plays you, how she slows her fingers down and scissors them to tease, to feel every inch of your tight, wet heat, how she leans in to lick at your bottom lip, to peck your mouth but deny you when you lean in for more. The look in her eyes is prideful, high on power, so cruel but somehow filled with adoration; it drives you to insanity.

“Fuck, please, I cannot take it any longer,” you burst out, moaning, groaning, fingers digging into her shoulders. By now, your gown is wet with sweat, nipples peaking against the thin material. Agatha simply smirks, eyes flashing with pleasure at your desperation. She continues to ignore your words, keeping her pace deliberately slow and teasing, and then leans down to lay her tongue flat through your gown right against your nipple, “Ah, please, Agatha, please, I need to–” you choke on your words, unable to finish as you break out into a series of whiney moans as she sucks your bud into her hungry mouth.

“You need?” Agatha urges you to finish, going right back to her attack on your chest. You can feel her teeth through your gown, sharp and dangerously teetering on the edge of pain and pleasure as they bite down.

Your mind is empty at this point, filled with nothing but want as you begin to bounce your hips again to chase your high, but Agatha’s free hand is at the curve of your hip quickly, stopping you from moving. You’re practically on the verge of tears now, pouting deeply as you look down at her; she has not an ounce of sympathy as she meets your gaze, eyes glimmering with playfulness as her mouth continues sucking your nipple, tongue circling it before flicking over it again and again.

A broken moan escapes as a tear falls, your cunt aching with the need for release. “I’m sorry, please, I’m so sorry,” you begin crying out, thinking this must be some sort of punishment, “Mama, please, I need you so bad–”

“Say that again.”

Your head snaps back down at the hoarseness in her voice, the shakiness in her words. The hand on your hips creeps up until it’s at your jaw, tightening and pulling you closer to her lips. You’re mere inches away, panting into each other’s parted lips.

“I need you, Mama,” you whisper, whimper, meeting her halfway as your lips crash together in a wet clash of teeth and tongue. You pull back, lips stringing with hers, “I need you to make me come, Mama,” you whisper again, swallowing her whimpers with another kiss, “I need your fingers,” you add, licking into her mouth, “Your hands,” she squeezes your hips, “Your tongue,” Agatha groans again, adjusting so her hand is flat. It’s painful this way, you know, but for you it feels so fucking good, her fingers pushing in deeper than before, “Yes, just like that, please, fuck, don’t stop.”

Agatha couldn’t stop now even if she wanted to, too overtaken with lust for you. Her pace is angry, desperate, primal as she pushes her hand up against your bouncing movements; it’s hard, her palm slapping lewdly against your bare, glistening lips. The sound drives you mad, chest and cheek flushing pink with a strange mix of humiliation and excitement.

“Are you mine?” Agatha asks, pants, “Really?”

You groan, head thrown back, lost in pleasure. Your hands come down to squeeze at your chest, both you and Agatha groaning at that for very different reasons. “Yes,” you hiss out, vaguely hearing her question between the pounding of your heart in your ears and the white noise taking over as you creep closer and closer to your climax, “Fuck, Mama, I’m yours.”

The guttural sound that escapes her is unlike one you’ve ever heard before and it sends shocks down your spine straight to your core. Your movements become just as erratic as hers as she manages to slip a third finger in, stretching you deliciously. It’s pain, pleasure, and pure ecstasy as she pants soothing whispers into your ear.

“You’re doing so good for me, sweetling,” she praises, “You make the prettiest sounds,” she coos, “I can’t believe you’re finally mine,” she growls, pressing against your clit with more determination now, eyes wide and desperate to see you untamed as you come undone.

“God, don’t stop,” you whine, your sounds filthy, loud enough to scare the afternoon birds away. It’s a moment frozen in time as your back arches, chest pushing into her face as your breath catches in your throat. You feel nothing but her, hear nothing but her, see nothing but those darkened blue eyes before yours shut tight in pleasure.

Agatha’s right there with you, soothing you as you ride your climax, her fingers still pushing you through it despite how tightly you’re throbbing around them. Her mouth finds your chest again, sucking with hunger, kisses moving up until she reaches the skin of your neck and she bites, deep and hard, not bothering to soothe it with a lick of her tongue before going to another patch, and another, claiming you.

She only stops when your moans turn into soft mewls, panting as your hand sifts through Agatha’s wild hair. God, you’re obsessed with it; with her.

“How do you feel?” Agatha asks, pulling back to kiss your lips gently. Her natural pout remains as she pulls away, eyes glued to your swollen pink lips.

You gaze down at her with tenderness, stroking the hairs at the back of her neck. “Free.”

masterlist + guidelines

this is just p*rn at this point lmfao (is anyone actually complaining tho?)

#agatha harkness fic #agatha all along #agatha harnkess smut #agatha harkness #rio vidal #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x reader smut #rio vidal x reader #rio vidal x reader smut #agathario #agatha harkness x rio vidal #agathario x reader #agatha harkness x rio vidal x reader #reader insert

68 notes · View notes

w1w2 · 24 days ago

Text

Skating the Divide

Part 1 | Part 2 - Cracks in the Ice | Part 3 | Part 4

Myoui Mina x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ca. 5k

Synopsis: On the ice, every move tells a story. For two skaters with opposing styles, the competition is more than just a test of skill. It’s a clash of worlds.

English isn’t my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

The tension between Y/N and Mina had been simmering since their first practice, and by the end of the week, it had reached a boiling point. The rink had become a battleground, their clashes echoing louder than their skates cutting into the ice.

They stood at the rink, catching their breaths after yet another failed attempt at the lift sequence. Mina pinched the bridge of her nose, her frustration barely contained. Y/N leaned against the edge of the rink, her hands gripping the boards tightly as if trying to keep herself from shouting.

“Let’s go again,” Mina said, her voice clipped and businesslike.

“Again?” Y/N shot her a disbelieving look. “We’ve done it a million times already. Maybe the problem isn’t me.. it’s your precious plan.”

Mina turned sharply, her gaze like ice. “The problem is that you refuse to follow it. If you would just listen—”

“Listen to what? More lectures about how I’m not good enough?” Y/N interrupted, her voice rising. Her chest heaved as she pushed off the boards and skated toward Mina. “You’ve been nitpicking every single thing I do since day one. Newsflash: I’m not a robot!”

“And thank God for that,” Mina retorted, crossing her arms. “Because if you were, we might actually make progress.”

Y/N let out a bitter laugh, throwing her hands in the air. “Oh, so now it’s all my fault? Maybe if you stopped micromanaging every second and let me breathe, we wouldn’t be stuck here.”

“I wouldn’t have to micromanage if you took this seriously,” Mina snapped, her voice cutting through the air like a blade.

That did it. Y/N’s eyes burned, her face flushing with anger. “Are you kidding me? I’m the one who’s been busting my ass trying to make this work while you stand there acting like you’re too good for all of this!”

Mina’s jaw tightened, her calm facade finally starting to crack. “I’m acting like I’m too good?” she repeated, her tone low and dangerous. “At least I know what it means to work for something instead of just hoping my charm will carry me through.”

The words hit harder than Y/N expected, and she felt a lump rise in her throat. She blinked rapidly, refusing to let Mina see the sting of her remark.

She doesn’t know anything about me, Y/N thought angrily, but her inner voice wavered. Beneath the anger, there was a flicker of doubt. Was that how Mina really saw her? As someone who didn’t deserve to be here?

Her throat felt tight, but she refused to let it show. Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Mina. “At least I don’t skate like I have a stick up my—”

“Don’t,” Mina interrupted, her voice quiet but sharp enough to stop Y/N mid-sentence. Her gaze bore into Y/N, and for a moment, the air between them felt impossibly heavy.

Mina clenched her fists at her sides, her nails pressing into her palms as she fought to keep her composure. Y/N’s chaotic energy grated on her nerves in a way that was both infuriating and... unsettling. She told herself it was frustration, that it was the clash of their approaches to skating but she couldn’t ignore the deeper, unspoken emotion simmering beneath the surface.

It was a flicker of something she didn’t want to name, let alone acknowledge.

She doesn’t understand what’s at stake here, Mina thought, her chest tightening as familiar pressure wrapped around her like a vice. This isn’t a game. This is everything.

For Mina, skating wasn’t just a sport. It was a lifeline, a discipline that had shaped her entire existence. Every hour spent perfecting her craft, every blister and bruise, every fleeting moment of joy on the ice, it all built toward the singular goal of being the best. To win. To be untouchable.

But Y/N’s approach was the antithesis of everything Mina believed in. Her free-spirited movements and unpredictable improvisations felt like chaos wrapped in glitter. It was beautiful in its own way, but it lacked the precision Mina had spent years honing.

She doesn’t take it seriously enough, Mina thought, her gaze narrowing as she watched Y/N skate in frustration, her arms gesturing wildly as she argued. How can I rely on someone who doesn’t understand that perfection isn’t optional?

And yet, as she looked at Y/N, standing there with her hands on her hips, her eyes blazing with determination, Mina felt a pang of something foreign.

How does she do that? Mina wondered, her mind briefly slipping from its carefully controlled script. Y/N’s defiance wasn’t just loud, it was fearless. She made mistakes and brushed them off like they didn’t matter, and she skated with a freedom Mina hadn’t felt in years.

For a fleeting moment, Mina envied her. Envied the way she seemed to embrace imperfection, to pour herself into the ice without fear of judgment. But that thought was dangerous. It lingered in the shadows of her mind like a whisper she refused to hear.

That kind of thinking wouldn’t win championships, Mina reminded herself firmly, forcing her gaze to harden. There was no room for freedom. No room for chaos. Only discipline and control. Y/N’s heart pounded as she stared at Mina, her chest tight with frustration. She hated the way Mina always seemed so calm, so composed, like nothing could touch her. It made Y/N feel like she was constantly playing catch-up, like no matter how hard she worked, she’d never be good enough.

Mina’s cold, clipped remarks were the worst. Each one landed like a blow, subtle but sharp, carving away at Y/N’s confidence.

How does she do that? Y/N thought bitterly, her fingers curling into fists. How can she make me feel like an amateur with just a few words?

But beneath her anger, Y/N felt an ache she didn’t want to name. Mina’s constant criticisms stirred up ghosts from her past. Memories of every coach, every judge, every competitor who had looked at her and told her she didn’t belong.

She thought of the rink back home, the cracked ice and the borrowed skates she had to make last for seasons at a time. Of her parents sitting in the freezing stands, cheering her on even when she placed last. Skating wasn’t just a passion for Y/N; it was survival. It was the one thing she had fought to hold on to when everything else felt out of reach.

Mina doesn’t know what it’s like, Y/N thought, bitterness creeping into her chest. She doesn’t know what it’s like to fight for every second on the ice. To always feel like you’re one mistake away from losing it all.

But there was more to it than that, wasn’t there? It wasn’t just Mina’s words that got under her skin. It was the way she carried herself, like she was untouchable. It made Y/N feel... vulnerable.

Y/N shook her head, brushing the thought away. Vulnerability wasn’t an option. She couldn’t afford to let anyone see the cracks, least of all Mina.

No way am I letting her win this. Y/N lifted her chin, her defiant glare locking onto Mina. If Mina wanted perfection, Y/N would show her something better.

They tried the lift again, Y/N’s hands firm on Mina’s waist as they prepared for the sequence. Y/N steadied herself before lifting Mina again, her knees bent with effort as she tried to match Mina’s timing. But as Mina stretched into position, Y/N’s grip slipped slightly. She tried to adjust, but their movements collided in an awkward tangle, sending Mina sliding awkwardly out of Y/N’s grasp.

Y/N let out a frustrated growl, catching herself on the edge of the rink. “This isn’t working,” she said, her voice taut with anger.

“Because you keep improvising,” Mina snapped, skating a tight circle before coming to a stop in front of Y/N. “If you would just stick to the plan—”

“Oh, here we go again with the plan!” Y/N interrupted, throwing her arms wide. “God forbid I add a little flair to this robotic routine you’ve cooked up.”

“This isn’t about flair,” Mina retorted, her voice rising ever so slightly. “This is about trust. I can’t work with someone who doesn’t take this seriously.”

Y/N froze, the words hitting her like a slap. Her mouth opened to respond, but nothing came out. For a moment, the only sound was the faint hum of the arena lights.For Mina, the words had slipped out before she could stop them, but they carried the weight of her deepest fear: failure. She couldn’t afford to lose control, not in her routine, not in her partnership, and certainly not in front of the judges.

For Y/N, the accusation cut deep, feeding into her worst insecurity: that she didn’t belong here. She skated to prove herself, to show the world she was more than an underdog. But now, those fears gnawed at her, leaving her feeling smaller than she’d ever admit.

They tried again, and again, and again. Each attempt only seemed to widen the chasm between them. Needing a moment to recharge, both were physically and emotionally drained, their movements sluggish and their tempers frayed as they stepped away for a brief respite.

As Y/N sat on the bench unlacing her skates, she muttered to herself, “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

Mina overheard, her gaze flicking toward Y/N briefly before she turned away. “Neither can I,” she whispered under her breath, her voice barely audible.

The rink was eerily quiet that night, the usual hum of activity replaced by the soft hum of the arena lights. It was late, well past the time most skaters had gone home, but Mina and Y/N remained. Neither had planned to practice this late, but both had silently agreed to stay after their latest argument earlier in the day.

Y/N skated in slow, lazy circles at one end of the rink, her mind a storm of frustration and doubt. At the other end, Mina methodically practiced footwork, her movements precise and controlled. For a long while, they didn’t speak, the silence between them heavy but oddly comfortable in its stillness.

It was Y/N who broke the quiet.

“You’re always like this, aren’t you?” she said, her voice carrying across the empty rink.

Mina stopped mid-step, turning to face her. “Like what?”

“So... perfect.” Y/N skated closer, her tone somewhere between bitterness and curiosity. “Everything you do is so flawless, so polished. You’ve probably never even fallen in public, have you?”

Mina’s lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes narrowing. “Falling isn’t an option,” she said, her voice calm but guarded. “Not if you want to be the best.”

Y/N tilted her head, studying her. “Must be exhausting.”

The words hung in the air, heavier than Y/N intended. Mina hesitated, her usually poised expression flickering with something more vulnerable.

“What’s exhausting,” Mina said finally, her voice quieter, “is trying to make it look easy.”

Y/N blinked, surprised by the admission. “What do you mean?”

Mina sighed, gliding to the edge of the rink and resting her hands on the boards. For a moment, she didn’t speak, her gaze distant as if she were seeing something far away.

“When you’re at the top,” she said, “everyone expects you to stay there. You can’t make mistakes. You can’t show weakness. Because the moment you do...” She paused, her grip tightening on the boards. “Someone’s waiting to take your place.”

Y/N skated closer, stopping a few feet away. She hadn’t expected this. This glimpse of vulnerability from someone who always seemed so untouchable.

“That’s why you’re so hard on yourself,” Y/N said softly. “And on me.”

Mina turned her head slightly, her expression unreadable. “Perfection isn’t optional,” she said. “Not for me.”

Y/N leaned against the boards beside her, their shoulders almost touching. “Yeah, well, I wouldn’t know what that’s like,” she said with a wry smile. “Perfection’s never been an option for me. I’m just trying to survive out here.”

Mina glanced at her, the faintest trace of curiosity in her eyes. “What do you mean?”

Y/N hesitated, then exhaled deeply, her breath fogging the cold air. “I didn’t grow up like you. I didn’t have the fancy coaches or the perfect skates. I had to borrow skates that didn’t fit, patch up my gear, and hope for the best. I’d practice on this crappy little rink with cracked ice and no heat, and I’d watch videos of skaters like you, wondering how the hell I’d ever get to where you are.”

Mina listened in silence, her usual mask of composure replaced by quiet attentiveness.

“I mean, look at you,” Y/N continued, her voice tinged with both admiration and frustration. “You’ve got everything. The talent, the polish, the... the presence. People look at you and see perfection. They look at me and see some scrappy underdog who doesn’t belong.”

For a moment, neither of them spoke. Mina’s gaze softened, and she looked down at her hands, her fingers tracing the edge of the boards.

“You think I don’t feel like that sometimes?” she said quietly.

Y/N turned to her, surprised. “What?”

Mina’s shoulders stiffened slightly, as if bracing herself. “You think I don’t feel out of place? Like I’m just... playing a part?” Her voice wavered, just barely. “Everyone expects me to be perfect, but sometimes I feel like I’m one mistake away from proving them all wrong. From proving I’m not good enough.”

Y/N stared at her, the ice between them melting with every word. She had never seen Mina like this.. Vulnerable, human.

“You’ve got a funny way of showing it,” Y/N said softly.

Mina glanced at her, her lips curving into the faintest hint of a smile. “And you have a funny way of making me question everything I thought I knew about skating.”

They both laughed, a quiet, tentative sound that echoed in the empty rink.

For the first time since they’d been paired, the air between them felt lighter, less fraught with tension.

“So,” Y/N said, nudging Mina playfully with her shoulder. “What do you say we try again? No lectures, no rules. Just... skating.”

Mina hesitated, then nodded, her smile softening. “Just skating,” she agreed.

Together, they pushed off the boards and onto the ice. And for the first time, it felt like they were skating as partners.

The sound of their skates slicing across the ice filled the rink as Y/N and Mina attempted a particularly challenging lift for what felt like the hundredth time. The late-night practice had stretched even longer. This wasn’t just about the competition. It was about proving to each other, and perhaps themselves, that they could make this work.

“Ready?” Mina asked, her voice steady but softer than usual.

“Let’s do it,” Y/N replied, nodding as she adjusted her position.

Y/N positioned her hands firmly around Mina’s waist, her grip tense but determined. Mina bent her knees slightly, readying herself as Y/N exhaled sharply and began the lift.

For a brief moment, everything felt perfect.

But then, something shifted. Perhaps Y/N’s footing faltered, or Mina overcorrected her balance. The shift threw them into a dangerous wobble, and for a terrifying second, Mina felt herself tilting backward.

Instinct took over. Y/N tightened her hold, steadying Mina just enough to lower her to the ice safely. Mina’s feet touched the ground with a jarring thud, and she stumbled forward, clutching Y/N’s shoulders for balance.

For a moment, neither of them moved. Mina’s chest heaved as she caught her breath, her hands still gripping Y/N’s shoulders. Y/N’s hands remained steady at Mina’s waist, trembling slightly from the effort of holding her partner aloft.

“You okay?” Y/N asked, her voice low but steady, a flicker of worry in her tone.

Mina nodded, her cheeks flushed from both exertion and the unexpected closeness. “I’m fine. Thanks.”

Their eyes met briefly, the usual friction between them replaced by a tentative understanding. The adrenaline still thrummed through Mina’s veins, but it wasn’t just relief that held her in place. It was the realization that she had trusted Y/N in that moment, and Y/N hadn’t let her down.

Y/N, the chaotic whirlwind she had often dismissed, had proven herself capable, someone she could count on, even when the stakes were high. It unsettled her.

There was a fearlessness in Y/N that Mina couldn’t deny. An unwavering trust that, even in the midst of chaos, things would work out. And Y/N had trusted her in that moment. Despite all the friction between them, despite the tension and arguments, Y/N had trusted Mina to catch her.

It unsettled her. And yet... it felt right.

“You should trust me more,” Y/N said, her voice softer than Mina had ever heard it. Her breath was warm against the cold air, and a small, almost teasing smile tugged at her lips.

The words caught Mina off guard. Trust had always been a loaded concept for her. Something earned through precision, control, and discipline. Y/N embodied none of those things. But at that moment, Mina didn’t bristle. She didn’t overthink.

Instead, she smiled back. Just a little. “Maybe you should stop making that so hard,” she said, her tone lighter than usual.

It was a rare exchange for her, a moment of levity in a sea of pressure and perfection. And for the first time, Mina didn’t feel the need to guard herself.

Y/N’s hands lingered on Mina’s waist, her fingers curling slightly as she caught her breath. Her heart pounded, not just from the effort of the lift but from the realization of how easily Mina had placed her trust in her.

Mina had always seemed untouchable: cool, unyielding, and always in control. But in this moment, Y/N glimpsed something else, a vulnerability she hadn’t expected. Mina’s posture, though steady, carried a softness that spoke of trust.

For the first time, Y/N didn’t feel at odds with Mina. Instead, she saw the flickering possibility of real teamwork.

She glanced up, and her breath hitched slightly when her eyes met Mina’s. There was something unspoken in the other woman’s gaze, a softness Y/N had never seen before.

“You know,” Y/N said, breaking the silence with her usual humor, because humor was the only way she knew how to handle moments like this, “for someone who’s all about control, you’re pretty good at improvising.”

The corner of Mina’s lips twitched, a flicker of a smile that felt warmer than the rink’s frozen air. “Don’t get used to it,” she replied, but the words lacked their usual bite.

Y/N grinned, her chest lighter than it had been in days. “Oh, I don’t know. I kind of like this side of you.”

Mina exhaled softly, but she didn’t pull away immediately. Instead, she allowed Y/N a moment to regain her footing, her usual critique conspicuously absent. There was no biting comment, no impatient sigh, just a quiet acknowledgment of their shared effort.

Y/N’s heart softened. She’d spent so much time seeing Mina as a wall she had to climb, but maybe Mina wasn’t a wall at all. Maybe she was someone who understood what it meant to carry weight, even if she carried it differently than Y/N did.

They tried the lift again. This time, Y/N’s movements were measured, her hands steady as she guided Mina off the ice. Mina, in turn, adjusted seamlessly, their timing finally beginning to align. The lift wasn’t flawless, but it felt solid, closer to success than it had ever been.

By the end of the session, they were both exhausted, but the atmosphere between them had changed.

As they skated off the ice together, Y/N nudged Mina with her elbow. “Not bad, Myoui. Not bad at all.”

Mina smirked, the warmth in her eyes belying her usual cool demeanor. “You weren’t terrible either.”

It wasn’t a declaration of friendship, nor an admission of trust, but it was something. A crack in the walls they’d both built around themselves.

For the first time, they weren’t just skating partners thrown together by circumstance. They were a team.

The world outside was dark and quiet, the city lights twinkling faintly against the night sky. Y/N walked a few steps behind Mina, the tension that had previously hung between them replaced by a tentative calm. They didn’t speak until they reached the vending machines near the exit, where Mina paused, frowning slightly as she studied the options.

“What are you doing?” Y/N asked, her tone curious.

Mina glanced at her. “Getting something.”

“From this ancient thing?” Y/N stepped closer, tapping the vending machine with a grin. “It barely works. Half the time it eats your money and gives you nothing in return.”

Mina arched an eyebrow. “Sounds like someone I know.”

Y/N blinked, momentarily stunned before a laugh burst from her lips. “Wait, was that a joke? Myoui Mina, did you just try to roast me?”

Mina smirked, a barely-there expression that Y/N almost missed. “Maybe.”

“Wow.” Y/N put a hand to her chest, mock gasping. “I’m impressed. The ice queen has a sense of humor.”

Mina rolled her eyes, but the corner of her lips twitched. She turned back to the machine, pulling a few coins from her pocket. Y/N watched her select a pack of strawberry Pocky, the machine groaning as it dispensed the snack with a mechanical clunk.

“Strawberry?” Y/N asked, tilting her head.

Mina nodded. “It’s my favorite.”

“No way.” Y/N leaned over and pulled a similar pack from her bag, holding it up triumphantly. “Mine too. The superior flavor, obviously.”

Mina blinked, her gaze flicking between Y/N and the candy in her hand. For the first time, she looked genuinely surprised.

They sat together on a nearby bench, the cold air biting at their faces as they shared an unspoken truce over their mutual love of strawberry Pocky. Y/N broke the silence first.

“You’re not what I expected,” she said, leaning back against the bench.

Mina raised an eyebrow. “What did you expect?”

Y/N shrugged, biting into a stick of Pocky. “I don’t know. Someone... meaner? I mean, don’t get me wrong, you’re still infuriating, but... you’ve got layers.”

Mina didn’t reply immediately. Instead, she looked down at the box in her hands, her fingers toying with the edge of the packaging. “You’re different than I thought too,” she admitted softly.

Y/N glanced at her, caught off guard by the honesty in Mina’s tone. “Yeah?”

Mina nodded, her gaze distant. “You’re... fearless. It’s frustrating sometimes, but it’s also...” She hesitated, searching for the right word. “Inspiring.”

Y/N’s cheeks flushed, and she laughed lightly, trying to deflect the compliment. “Careful, Myoui. You’re starting to sound like you actually like me.”

“Don’t push it,” Mina replied, but her voice lacked its usual sharpness.

Later, as they walked to their separate cars, Y/N glanced at Mina and asked, “Do you ever do anything just... for fun? Like, outside of skating?”

Mina tilted her head slightly, the question catching her off guard. “I don’t have much time for fun.”

Y/N stopped in her tracks, turning to face her. “You’re kidding, right? No guilty pleasures? No goofy hobbies? Nothing?”

Mina hesitated, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “I like puzzles,” she admitted reluctantly.

Y/N burst into laughter, the sound echoing in the quiet parking lot. “Puzzles? That’s adorable.”

Mina frowned, crossing her arms. “There’s nothing adorable about it. It’s logical. Strategic.”

“Sure it is,” Y/N teased, grinning. “Next time, I’m bringing you a puzzle of, like, kittens or something.”

Despite herself, Mina smiled. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re uptight,” Y/N replied with a wink.

For a moment, they stood there, the tension that had defined their partnership slowly melting away. Mina found herself charmed by Y/N’s infectious energy, her ability to find humor and joy in the smallest moments.

And for Y/N, Mina’s quiet humor and growing warmth were a revelation, a reminder that there was more to the ice queen than meets the eye.

As they parted ways, Y/N called after Mina, “Don’t let me catch you practicing without me tomorrow, okay? Team effort, remember?”

Mina paused, looking over her shoulder with a faint smile. “Only if you stop improvising.”

“No promises!” Y/N shouted, laughing as Mina rolled her eyes and walked to her car.

The night marked a turning point, not just in their partnership, but in the way they saw each other. They were still opposites in many ways, but beneath the differences, a bond was beginning to form.

A few days had passed since the tentative understanding between Y/N and Mina at their late-night practice. The air between them was still fragile, like the ice beneath their skates, and both women tread carefully. Their sessions were more productive now, but far from seamless. Y/N’s daring improvisations still clashed with Mina’s perfectionism, but there was less venom in their arguments and an unspoken effort to meet halfway.

The rest of the rink, however, was less accommodating.

It began subtly. Side glances and hushed conversations that trailed off when Y/N or Mina entered a room. At first, Y/N ignored it. She was used to being the odd one out, the wildcard in a sport dominated by elegance and precision. But as the days went on, the whispers grew louder, harder to ignore.

One day, as Y/N sat on a bench lacing her skates, the words finally pierced through her focus.

“I don’t get it,” one skater said, her voice carrying just loud enough to reach Y/N. “Why would they pair someone like her with Mina?”

“She’s going to drag her down,” another replied, the sharp edge in her tone unmistakable.

Y/N’s fingers faltered on the laces, her chest tightening. She kept her head down, pretending not to hear.

“Can you imagine?” The first voice laughed. “Mina, the queen of precision, stuck with someone who can’t even land a consistent triple loop.”

“It’s a joke,” chimed a third. “They’re only doing this doubles thing to shake things up, but pairing them together? It’s cruel to Mina.”

Y/N bit her lip, her stomach churning. She forced her fingers to keep moving, tugging at the laces with more force than necessary.

The voices continued, oblivious or uncaring that she could hear every word.

“She’s all flash and no substance. It’s embarrassing to watch.”

“Maybe they thought Mina could whip her into shape.”

“Or maybe they wanted to give Mina a challenge. You know, like a handicap,” one added with a smirk, and the group burst into laughter.

Y/N’s hands stilled. The words cut deeper than she wanted to admit. She’d always prided herself on her resilience, on not letting the opinions of others dictate her worth. But this felt different. It wasn’t just about her; it was about Mina, too.

She glanced up briefly, catching her reflection in the mirror across the room. Her usually bright eyes looked duller, weighed down by doubt. Was she really dragging Mina down? Was everyone right?

Later that day, during a break between sessions, Y/N sat alone at a table in the skaters’ lounge, nursing a lukewarm cup of coffee. The room buzzed with activity, skaters stretching, laughing, and reviewing their routines. Y/N tried to focus on the notes Mina had left her about their sequence, but her mind kept replaying the voices from the locker room.

“Hey, Y/N,” a voice called, too sweet to be genuine.

She looked up to see Nayeon, one of the more vocal skaters, sauntering over with a sly smile. Nayeon was flanked by two others, all of them radiating the kind of confidence that came from years of polished performances and unshakable scores.

“How’s it going with Mina?” Nayeon asked, leaning against the table. “Must be... challenging.”

Y/N’s jaw tightened. “We’re doing fine,” she replied, keeping her tone even.

“Really?” Nayeon raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. “Because from what I hear, it sounds like she’s doing most of the work.”

One of Nayeon’s friends snickered. “I mean, she’s Mina Myoui. She can handle anything. But it must be hard, carrying all that dead weight.”

Y/N’s grip on her coffee cup tightened. “If you’ve got something to say, just say it.”

Nayeon tilted her head, pretending to consider it. “I’m just saying, doubles skating is about synergy, right? And it’s hard to have synergy when one partner’s a champion and the other... well, you know.”

The laugh that followed felt like a dagger. Y/N stood abruptly, the chair scraping loudly against the floor.

“You don’t know anything about us,” she said, her voice low but trembling with anger.

Nayeon smirked. “Oh, I think everyone knows exactly what’s happening. You’re lucky to be skating with someone like Mina. Too bad she’s stuck with someone like you.”

The room fell quiet, the tension palpable. Y/N’s chest burned, the weight of their words pressing down on her. Without another word, she stormed out, the door slamming shut behind her.

She didn’t stop until she reached the empty rink, the cold air biting at her flushed cheeks. She needed to move, to release the storm swirling inside her.

Pacing the rink’s edge, Y/N muttered under her breath. “Lucky? Stuck with me? They don’t know anything.” Her voice cracked, and she stopped, gripping the boards tightly.

Her mind raced with doubts. Maybe they’re right. Maybe I am dragging her down. Mina’s perfect. She deserves someone who matches her, not... me.

But alongside the doubt was anger. At the skaters, at herself, and, though she hated to admit it, at Mina. She’d overheard some of Mina’s earlier comments, the veiled criticisms that had fed into her insecurities. Even if things between them had softened, Mina hadn’t gone out of her way to defend her, either.

“I’m not dead weight,” Y/N whispered fiercely, as if saying it aloud would make it true.

She stayed there for a long time, the quiet rink swallowing her frustration. When she finally moved, it was with a determination burning in her chest. If the world thought she wasn’t good enough, she’d prove them wrong. Not for Mina, not for the judges, but for herself.

#mina x reader #gg x reader #girl group imagines #kpop x fem reader #kpop imagines #twice x reader #twice imagines #mina myoui x fem reader #mina x fem reader #mina x fem!reader #myoui mina imagines

86 notes · View notes

milliesfishes · 9 months ago

Text

౨ৎ꣑ৎHold Up౨ৎ꣑ৎ (Pray You Catch Me Part Two)

[fem reader] contains: mentions of pale skin, cheating, suggestive, self harm (non-suicidal), manipulation, angst, innocent reader, reader cares to some level about snow. pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader summary: (au) you’ve been married to the president of Panem for awhile now, and you thought things were going well, until you find out he’s been cheating. (Chapter 2) author’s note: thanks for the love on chapter one <3 excited about this one. Series Pinterest Board Series Spotify Playlist

When Coriolanus had started to court you, he’d exhibited certain behaviors you’d taken note of. Some of them were regular things, but one stood out above all others.

He was possessive. One of his hands was always on your waist, or your thigh, wherever he could reach, wherever was appropriate for the setting. Whenever you were speaking with anyone at the events the two of you attended, especially if it was a man, he kept close watch. His gaze was sharp, piercing, and anyone could feel it on them even if they weren’t looking in his direction.

Every touch, every hint of protectiveness swam through your head as you laid next to him, back against his chest as he held you like a doll.

Sleep was not your friend that night.

Your mind was fully focused on the hand he’d put over you, how it had slid under your nightdress, resting on the skin of your hip, and your emotions ran wild, swirling around until sunrise when you finally landed on one. Anger.

The audacity he had to make plans to meet another woman for something so glaringly carnal and then come back to you, his obedient little wife, like nothing had happened. Your hand gripped the pillow under your head, feeling like you could tear it in half. The black nightdress you’d picked up felt like sandpaper on your skin.

Sitting up slightly, you looked over at him. The most powerful man in Panem, fast asleep, so vulnerable, so…human. His blond hair was a little messy, his breathing soft. Even now, he was annoyingly perfect.

Suddenly, as your mind wandered, it struck you that you had no idea how long he’d been seeing her. You knew it’d been at least once because he’d mentioned last time. This could have been years in the making, and you were just too naive, too stupid to see it. Hell, it could’ve started long before he’d begun courting you, and you’d been none the wiser. You hardly knew anything of his past, except what his being in the public eye afforded you.

The hand on your hip was heavy, like a weight, and you glared down at it. In the past, you would’ve allowed it, not wanting to wake him. Maybe you’d have even enjoyed the feeling.

But this was not the past.

In one motion, you shoved his hand off you, tugging your nightdress down and moving as far away from him as you could on the bed. You pulled the pillow out from under your head and put it firmly between the two of you, your back to him. It was a small act of rebellion, but it was all you had right now.

When morning came and the sunlight spilled through the windows between the wine red curtains, he’d awaken and wonder why he wasn’t holding you anymore. But he wouldn’t think much of it, likely figuring you’d shifted around in the night. He’d be confused, but it wouldn’t affect more than a few minutes of his waking mind.

It was all you had right now.

Several hours later, Coriolanus was gone for the day, and you tried to occupy yourself. It was not an easy task. It felt pathetic waiting around for him to get home, but you didn’t know what else to do.

Wandering into the closet you shared, you ventured over to his side, running your hands over his shirts and jackets, inhaling his scent. You’d never explored his things before, keeping to your dresses and heels. He’d never outright told you not to do this, but you assumed he didn’t necessarily want you to.

What he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. It was the least you could do after what he knew hurt you.

You took a shirt off its hanger, pressing the fabric to your nose. Men’s cologne, roses. That was him. When you put it back on the hanger, you made sure it was a little less neat than before.

Now you were at his jackets, and you took a red one off the hanger, noting the pants it matched on a shelf, crisply folded. Going over to the floor length mirror, you pulled it on, smoothing it over your body. You were still wearing the black nightdress from the night before.

Wearing his clothes felt strange, but you liked it. It was…powerful. You put your hands in the pockets, turning to look at yourself from a new angle, when you felt a loose scrap of fabric. Lace.

Your eyes widened, a feeling of dread taking over as you hastily pulled it out. A stark black pair of panties, ones that did not belong to you.

Mind racing, you thought back to the last time he’d worn this jacket. A month ago, a fundraiser you’d attended. You remembered that night because he’d been unusually affectionate, pressing a kiss to your forehead when you’d leave to talk to a friend, his arm around your waist holding you close when he was speaking with a senator you couldn’t remember the name of. You’d felt…well, not loved, but cared for. Like maybe, just maybe this could be more.

But evidently he’d gone straight to her afterwards.

The staff of the mansion was discreet, and they wouldn’t dare ask questions if they found a pair of panties in his pocket. They’d have likely just put them right back where they found them after the jacket had been cleaned.

As all this hit you, your face crumpled, and you knelt on the floor of the closet, still holding the panties, and cried softly. It wasn’t real. None of it was real. You didn’t know why you were surprised he was stepping out on you, but it was the fact that he’d made you think he cared about you, and allowed yourself to care back.

You were just another pawn in his game.

Men like Coriolanus wanted to be adored, without risking their own necks. Let everyone else feel, be vulnerable, devote themselves. On some level you had known that before, but now…now it was glaringly obvious.

As was what you had to do.

You wiped your tears and took off the jacket, hanging it up right where he’d see it when he walked in. The panties were still bunched in your fist as you stalked out of the closet, heading for the bathroom. A plan was hatching in your mind, and you gritted your teeth, your expression dark.

Tossing the panties on the counter, you pulled out your curling iron and plugged it in. As you waited for it to heat up, you got out a washcloth, twisting it in your hands. It was your wedding anniversary today, so you knew for sure he’d be home tonight. That’s why he can’t meet her tonight-

Shut up, you told yourself, fanning a hand over the curling iron, making sure it was hot. You picked it up, inhaling softly. There was a moment of hesitation. Was it worth it?

Then you thought of the way your heart had fluttered when he pressed his lips to your temple, the way you’d smiled sweetly at him when he told you that you looked beautiful on his arm…

You shoved the washcloth into your mouth and brought the curling iron to your neck, pressing it down hard.

Perfection is attainable, you thought as you sat at the dining table, across from your usual spot. His place was set at the head, and you were often situated to his left. But tonight you’d requested you sit to the right, a subtle change that’d unconsciously put him on edge.

You looked ravishing, in a dress with a deep neckline, thin straps, and hardly any back. Deep red. His signature color. One you hadn’t dared to wear before. There was a rose between your fingers, and you were twisting it, eyes on the entrance to the dining room.

At last, he appeared, as handsome as ever, his face serene. There was little reaction to the sight of you, but it was there, and you relished in it.

“Dove,” he greeted, coming closer. You made no move to stand and welcome him as you usually did, instead looking up at him innocently, the end of the short stem of the rose in your mouth.

He sat in his chair, eyes on you. “Your dress…”

“Oh?” You looked down at yourself as if it were nothing. “I found it in the back of the closet. I know you usually like me in black…” you let that statement hang in the air for a moment. “...but it’s a special occasion.”

Coriolanus watched you, something you couldn’t pinpoint in his eyes. “I was only going to say you look lovely.”

You merely smiled at the compliment, setting the rose down in front of you, your hand beside it. He picked it up, his elbow on the table, kissing your fingers. “Happy anniversary, dove.”

Hating the little flutter your heart gave, you kept your eyes on him, a little smile on your face as you brushed your hair behind your shoulder with your free hand.

Immediately his eyes caught it, his expression growing cold.

The dark burn mark on your neck, bruising and almost looking like…

You looked innocently at him, taking note of the change in his face. “Dearest…?”

His grip on your hand was tighter. “What the hell do you think you’re playing at?”

Frowning, you kept your expression light, pretending not to know. “I don’t-”

“Your neck,” he hissed. “What the hell is that?”

You didn’t respond, only looked at him, your eyes blank like you had a secret. His silence was furious, and yet internally you were having a laugh. Cheaters are always paranoid that their partners are cheating. This was something you'd known when you burned your neck earlier, and the seed you’d planted was in full bloom. “Curling iron accident.”

You’d made sure to only slightly curl the ends of your long hair, enough that what you said was plausible, but not entirely believable. His thoughts were almost visible on his face. “You expect me to believe you burned yourself?”

“You can ask Lisa,” you said, referring to one of the maids. “I rang for her to bring me ointment.” This was true, you’d called her in tears, showing her the mark. She’d applied enough medicine to stop the pain, but nothing except time would make the mark completely go away.

But you knew how his mind worked. He knew maids could be bribed, and pain could be fabricated. And you’d orchestrated it so it’d be frustrating for him to get to the bottom of this, because he already was at the bottom. His paranoia was almost too easy to manipulate.

“If I find out you’ve been with another man…” Coriolanus’ voice was quiet, the tone change making his words lethal.

You leaned forward, pulling your hand from his grasp. “And what if I am?”

His cold expression betrayed some surprise as you stood up, looking like a goddess with your hair spilling over your shoulders. In his usual color preference, you looked powerful, dangerously beautiful. “It’s hard to tell, Coriolanus. You work long hours. Spend a lot of time away. Maybe…just maybe, I could’ve gotten lonely. Maybe I could’ve needed someone to keep your side of the bed warm…”

In an instant, he stood, pinning your hands to the table and leaning over you, his hot breath in your face. You kept your expression calm, looking into his eyes boldly. He glared at you. “You wouldn’t dare-”

“You’re right,” you cut him off. “I wouldn’t. That mark on my neck is just a burn...” He must’ve thought you were a good actress, but not good enough that he couldn’t see through you. It was almost funny how easy he could be convinced. It’d hardly taken any effort at all.

You wrenched one of your hands out of his grasp, taking his hand and sliding it up so his fingers were hooked on the slit of your dress, dragging it up and over toward your belly so the panties you were wearing were on full display. Black, lacy ones.

His eyes widened as he recognized them, and you stared at him, expression hard. His lips parted slightly, and his eyes rose slowly to meet yours. You said nothing, shoving his hand away, your dress falling back over your legs. “...care to tell me what these are?”

Coriolanus’ blue eyes pierced yours, and you didn’t let yourself be intimidated by him. He was the president of Panem…but he was still just a man.

“You know,” he said simply, eyes searching yours.

You only stared at him.

He exhaled, biting his tongue and looking away for a moment. “How long have you known?”

“I don’t see why that matters,” you said, folding your arms across your chest, your chin held high.

His expression was firm, but he nodded curtly. “I suppose it doesn’t.”

Silence.

Coriolanus kept his eyes on you. “I never meant to hurt you, dove-”

“Don’t call me that,” you said softly, sharply.

He exhaled through his nose, a sure sign he was angry. “You had to know this would happen at some point. This was an arranged marriage for-”

You interrupted him again. “It’d be one thing if you’d always been cold. If you’d kept your distance and stayed far away from me. But you convinced me that you cared about me. You made me look stupid.” Your eyes bored into his.

He was silent, still glaring at you, but it had weakened. The words hit him exactly where you’d wanted them to.

You stood up straight, stepping away from him. “I’ll be staying in another room from now on, so if you’ll excuse me, I need to move my things.” You’d already enlisted Lisa to help move most of them earlier, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Absolutely not,” Coriolanus grabbed your wrist. “I can tolerate your anger, but separate beds will not be suffered. Or did you forget your vows-?”

“Which you already broke,” you pulled yourself away from him, turning your back, giving him one last look at you in the dress. “I think sleeping in a different bed will be fine.”

He wasn’t used to being interrupted this much, and he stood in silence as you walked away. Just before you got to the doorway, you reached up, sliding the panties down your legs, turning and throwing them in his direction. “Here. I bet she’s missing these.”

And with that, you left your husband in silence, the last hours of your wedding anniversary lost to the aftermath of his infidelity.

Previous part|Next part

come talk about coryo here!

#coriolanus x reader #coryo x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow #the hunger games fanfiction #the hunger games #president snow #young president snow #milliesfishes #milliesfishes coryo #married to young president snow #spotify #Spotify

186 notes · View notes

ivys-garden · 2 months ago

Text

Hivy, I'm Ivy, and it's time for..

Life Series Alliance Analysis Session Recap:

Scars Snail cam is the best thing to happen this season.

Yes, another week means another session of Wild Life and damn did this one live up to the name. This session's Wild Card was the Infamous immortal snail, an idea originating from a meme that asked if you would press a button to get one million dollars if it meant an unkillable Snail would Chase you and if it ever touched you, you'd die.

This session's snails were far more dangerous though, resulting in far more carnage and downright Junji Ito-Esk descriptions of the incredibly ominous snails. On session 3 there are already 3 reds on the server and, had Grian not called end of session early, we would have had a first player out. So much happened and yet no progress was made, let's see what the teams were up to.

Also, 34 DEATHS WHAT THE FU

The Fast And The Furious (Gem & Joel)

I'm not calling them the family. That name is already taken. And is also lame.

The dynamic duo start the session by immediately forgetting they're supposed to be trying to shake their Villainous reputation by vowing to convince everyone to kill Pearl & Impulse, an incredibly stupid plot for many reasons:

1.Everyone they convince sucks at they're job

2. By gems own admission, Impulse barely did anything to her

3.joel literally forgot about this, since it wasn't important

4. Pearl literally did nothing to her, she was just they're as Impulse was having a rake in there chest (no the poisoning doesn't count, Pearl would do that to anyone)

5. If Pearl is to be punished for just being in the area, then why aren't Cleo & Scott also punished?

6. Gem and Impulse have no interactions this session

7. Pearl and Impulse STILL don't realise Gem hates them

8. Gem repeatedly calls what she's doing “Social Deduction”... no.

Gem actually has a lot in common with Impulse, they're both being extremely ruthless for no reason (if these two become thr final two and there isn't an AMV of there journey through teh season set to Ruthlessness from Epic I will literally eat snow.)

How will this saga end? Idk but it's very funny. keep it up.

Apart from that Gem built a wall, befriended her Snail and neither died. Well done!

(Sidenote about the Gem-Impulse beef, people forget this since he hasn't mentioned it yet but Joel makes it his mission to kill Scott every season. These teams would still be against each other regardless of what Impulse did, which is also very funny)

The Final Girls - (Pearl, Scott, Cleo, Impulse & Bigb)

Oh Deer. That's a lot of deaths very early for the faverouites to win

So to start, Impulse’s Creeper farm is a bust and likely will never be seen again. Whoopsie.

The team also decided to move a smidge closer to everyone else. Due to the snails no substantial progress could be made on this endeavour from most of the team tho, luckily Pearl (after dying to her snail, immediately proving herself as the teams crash test dummy again) was able to get a grip on her snail and get the build started, unfortunately as Pearl is building it is almost certainly going to become a tower…. Oh Pearl also died again building it. What's up with her this season?

Moving on to the perpetual drama that I'd this team’s dynamic, where once again we see the contrast between how Tumblr acts like this team is and how they actually are, with everyone just having a grand old chill time joking around and petting dogs. Crazy to think that a team made of these 5 goober would actually ENJOY when they're teammates cause chaos, Hmm?

A lot of this team's session is actually spent apart, meaning that there isn't much to talk about with them. But Pearl is on Yellow now, meaning she is definitely killing someone next session (an action the whole team is one board with btw). Once again proving herself as the attack dog of the life Series, she asks the team who to hurt. Impulse tries to convince her to attack Ren for killing him, but Pearl shoots this down, once again proving that she is NOT ruthless like impulse. Remember everyone, Pearl might be a little chaos gremlin but she does need a reason to kill or she won't do it. She isn't actually just a murder machine like in double life

That's the funny thing about double life actually. Pearl has moved in from the tower, its everyone else who is stuck in it.

Anyway, grian has a big ol target on his back, we'll see how that Pan's out next week.

Oh also SNAIL RACE HELL YEAH MOTHER FU

The Bam-Boozelers (Scar, Lizzie & Jimmy)

Lizzie thinks snails are arthropods.

Remember when I said Jimmy was the only confident one on this team? Well I guess he didn't have the confidence brain cell this week because he died. He died so much. The entire session for these guys is pretty much just trying to save Jimmy.

This doesn't go very well at all. Jimmy is able to get one life back through a deal with Ren, but all other attempts to intentionally kill someone fall flatter than Scar in session one. At least he does take initiative and blow up Joel's Hidious-Horrible-No-Good-Mobile. Great work big man!

Aslo, Jimmy admitted to being the harvester of the end! The canary curse isn't dying g first it's dying RIGHT before the Finale! That's Canon! I was right! VINDICATION!

The Tuff Guys (Bdubs, Etho & Tango)

Word of advice, if you need to constantly say your tough, your not.

Somehow despite making literally negative progress, this team still managed to do a lot. Bdubs immediately starts the episode with some light gaslighting on account of being bdubs. After this it is decided he must “do something tuff” and so he is sent to go mess with the Bam-Boozelers.

Keeping up with tuff guy tradition, bdubs doesn't do anything. Instead he enlists the Bam Gang to help him make up a story about how totally bad and evil he is. Bdubs is also allowed to come stay with them when the tuff guys inevitably fall apart. An offer bdubs is willing to accept even after Jimmy & Scar get him killed.

In other tuff news, Etho is desperate to prove that he is super tuff and shows up to kill the Bam-Boozelers cows…while they're away meaning he did not have to display any tuffness. He literally just needed to be in and out before they got back. He also takes a second shot at the final girls at gem's request again, and like the first time it goes horribly. The first time he gets distracted by the snail dance party (who wouldn't) and when he remembers what he actually set out to do, the most tuff then he can think of is empty threats and mild littering. C- for effort.

And then there's poor unfortunate Tango, not only does he go to red this session but he also loses his house after being blamed for the cow deaths etho caused. Oh but don't worry he got revenge on scar… in a way that was easily repairable and did no actual damage apart from massively lowering his own reputation.

That is the great tuffness of the tuff guys everybody! They're failing at everything and getting overly stressed about shelled gastropods!

The Spanners (Grian, Mumbo & Skizz)

Grian seemed to think this card would be easy, and I geuss it is if you k ow what to expect and have one of your mates Snail watching you all episode.

Now, Skizz, majestic failure that he is, went yellow super quickly and so the entire session is spent trying to save his but in a multitude of ways, all of which skizz manages to fail at spectacularly. Grian does manage to save Ren from Yellow for about ten minutes and at the cost of any chance he had of Impulse not killing him.

Eventually skizz gave up on all the compilated plots and just wacked Lizzie until she died.

He then immediately got killed again God damn it skizz.

OK so skizz massively lowered they're reputation with the Bam-Boozelers for nothing AND Impulse's revenge meter is full and his team won't hold him back anymore AND I think Martyn might still be peeved at the Enchanter situation AND Tango probably still wants to kill them AND despite what grian says Gem and Joel don't seem to care about them beyond nudging them to kill Impulse so yeah these 3 are super dead, I give them like a session until one of them drops.

P.S Mumbo calls the Snail meme a “thought experment” and I found that very funny and I think you should too.

Also apparently Jimmy and Grian debate what to do about the snail all the time??

Renwood (Martyn & Ren)

There will be a live Snail reaction meme over yaoi of these two I just now it.

Fallowing they're arc of being nice this season, Renwood goes on a great friend finding journey, allying with Gem & Joel on the condition of totally being super mean to Impulse promise and forming a friends to the end Pack with Jimmy at the cost of a spare life.

Ren probably regrets that particular pact as, while trying to perform a great horse search, he loses a life. And another. And so he must kill, allying temporarily with the Spanners to get a kill on Impulse, something that he immediately regrets, proving he is less of a Rottwiler and More of a Labby. Luckily for ren he avoids Impulse's revenge list for now on account of apologising, getting instant Karma for it and the other final girls desperately holding Impulse back.

Martyn on the other hand has a far better time, gallivanting I'm the Nether with etho for potions (he died doing that but shhh), organising the great Snail dance party and joining up with fellow Chaos Gremlins Pearl and Impulse to have some fun with snails and tnt.

With potions in hand the Renwood duo and Etho got up to all sorts of mischief, turning ren invisible and making Scar's Snail invisible, resulting in him almost dying twice and being out of the series…oopsie.

Also Martyn sucks at explaining the Snail meme and thinks the all spice guy and kool aid man are the same person.

Predictions?

With more information comes the first Predictions from me.

●Someone goes out and soon. Probably Skizz or Scar. Jimmy will survive tho, after all the canary curse means he's the harbinger of the end of the series… though with how it's going, next session very well could be the end of the series.

●Grian Is getting murked next session, probably by Pearl.

● The tuff guys will fall apart. Bdubs will buy with the Bam-Boozelers, Etho with Gem and Joel and Tango will be left scrabbling for someone to team up with.

● Joel will try to get revenge on Jim for blowing up the car and will fail

● Etho will continue to look like a total loser

● One of the people yet to die loses a life next session.

So uh yeah. I'm gonna go lie down for until next week.

Until then I've been Ivy, and this has been… whatever this was.

96 notes · View notes

ursuburbanmother · 10 months ago

Text

I’m On Fire, But I’m Trying Not to Show It || Chapter One

Pairing: Angus Tully x fem!Reader

Summary: You and Angus have been best friends since you were little children. Now in high school the only thing that separates you is a lake between both your schools. Due to what was describe by your headmaster as "Unfortunate circumstances due to chance, and poor planning on our part," you are forced to stay at the Barton Academy for the holidays with the company of your best friend or maybe more.

a/n: hi guys! I’m new so try to be kind to me lol. Anyways this is probably not very good. It’s slow paced cause I wanted to establish their friendship. Not sure where this is going so if you have any suggestions let me know! Also not grammar or beta read so…

Word Count: 3k

Find: Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Enjoy!

December 17th, 1970

You hadn’t spoken to your parents in months. You figured they would call or write a letter or something. In October they wished you a speedy little, “Happy Halloween,” before hanging up. You could hear the loud party in the background. Always the socialites, they were probably eager to get back to enjoying themselves by downing flutes of champagne and appetizers. Now it was December, and you had not received a peep from either. When the holiday plans form was passed out to the girls of your boarding school at the end of November, you ignored it. Then the deadline came, and you hastily checked off the box that said, ‘Plan to stay on campus.’

Your parents hadn’t called to dispute it and now you’re stuck at mass, sitting in a pew, watching other happy families and their daughters anxiously waiting to leave. You wondered if there was still a way for you to get away. Your friend, really only friend, Angus Tully was headed to St. Kitts and with him gone, your only true escape was gone. If he knew you were stuck holding over, he would beg his parents to take you, but you knew it would be too much of an imposition, so you kept that fact secret.

Life had always seemed to throw you two together. Even at the age where cooties were still a very legitimate fear. Born in the same snobby Boston neighborhood you two were often the only kids at your parent's parties. You remember that humid night on the Fourth of July when you had met the lanky boy with a mess of brown curls. The fireworks had begun to go off and everyone wore white dresses and suits. You had become restless and started to wander the halls of your home aimlessly. Streamers of blue, red and white hung from the ceiling and servers walked around passing out sparklers.

You found him on the patio. He tugged, annoyed, at his tie. Your own dress was stifling in the heat and for a pair of seven-year-olds, you found the best solution to your ailment was to jump into the shallow end of the pool.

“I’ll do it, if you do it,” you had promised under the hum of cicadas and floating fireflies.

“Deal,” you shook hands.

The water was cold and clear. You swam around for a while, splashing each other and playing Marco Polo. It was at the same time your mother had decided to move the party outside so people could watch the lights in the sky a bit better. You two were pulled out of the pool and shook like wet dogs.

Livid, your parents fed you the line all parents wait to say to their troublesome child, “If your friend jumped off a bridge, would you?” You decided at that moment that yes, you would.

After that you two were inseparable. Because when you're a kid all you need is one single act of solidarity to devote your life to someone. Throughout elementary school you were practically fused to one another. You’d exclude people from your game of hopscotch and eat lunch in secret nooks. When you two were headed to high school your parents enrolled you in a posh all-girl boarding school and Angus to some prep school in another rural part of Massachusetts. Phone calls rang long. You remember the groans you would get from other girls who would give up trying to use the payphone. At some point you had run out of quarters and so to save money you had begun writing letters. Angus being Angus, he’d write as if he was off at war and the letters were the last things keeping him sane.

You knew he never enjoyed school but after he was kicked out from his first preparatory, then his second and third, you had turned into a scolding mother.

“What are you going to do now?”

“Die if I’m lucky, shave my head at Fork Union if not.”

“I want to go to college with you Angus. If not college then I at least want to be able to be an adult with you. One with a diploma so we can get easy jobs as regional salespeople or something,” you mumbled, twirling the phone cord around with your finger.

“You really thought this out,” he laughed.

“I’m serious, Augie.” You heard him sigh across the line.

“Okay. I’ll do better. No screw ups next time.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

When he was sent to Barton, your sister school, you couldn’t have been more excited. It was a short walk away; you could see it from across the lake that separated you. Your mom had been the one to call you about the change. She said his mother thought having him near you would make him less fussy. Something about you being the good influence he needs. You doubted that yet bit your tongue, knowing it would create more trouble than anything. Now it had been over a year and Angus had kept his word. When the opportunity arose for you to meet up, you would take it. Football games or talent shows, you were there. To anyone outside, it would have appeared as though you two just held a lot of school spirit. Like that beach boy's song.

“Be true to your school now,” you’d sing into Angus' ear.

He’d roll his eyes but always join in, “just like you would to your girl or guy.”

“Rah-rah-rah-rah sis boom bah! I love that part!” You’d giggle.

He’d try to hide his smile, but you could always tell. He’d put his arm around your shoulder and say, “Yeah okay.”

…

Once you were dismissed from mass you sighed and trudged all the way back through the snow to your dorm building. Having it so empty was eerie, you could hear your own footsteps echoing down the halls. You made your way into the common room to wait for Ms. Orchard.

She was meant to be your babysitter for the next few weeks. She was your Renaissance literature teacher. Ms. Orchard was nice but on the older side, which meant she was traditional. You often thought she would be better suited to be a Home Economics teacher if she was so invested in being ladylike.

You sat in the corner of the couch and opened a book. Minutes passed and it seemed obvious no one was coming to join you. Not even Mrs. Orchard. She probably broke a hip trying to make her way back in the snow.

“Ms. Orchard has broken a hip while walking in the snow,” the door suddenly bursts open hitting the side of the wall so hard it shakes the room.

“What?” Your mouth drops at the news. Shit, had you jinxed it?

Your Dean, Mr. Jameson says as he walks in, covered in snowflakes. “Yup. She slipped on ice on the way here. By the parking lot. Didn’t you hear the ambulance?”

“Uh… no?”

“Hmm,” he hummed, looking around the room, “where are the other girls?”

“I think it’s just me sir.”

“Ah, right. Well that makes this easier. You’ll be spending your Christmas break at Barton. Now, it’s awfully last minute so we hope they take you. Why don’t you go get your bag ready and-,”

“Hold on. Barton the boys' school?” You could almost gag at the idea. No offense to Angus, but you could remember the endless horror stories he would tell you of life in a boys' school. The air always smelled weird, and cleanliness was the least of their worries. “Isn’t there somebody to replace Ms. Orchard?”

“This place cleared out thirty minutes ago, Ms. L/n,” he said, “And I have a family to get back to.”

“But-, I just-, isn't there a rule against this or something?”

“I have no doubt that the teacher supervisor there will ensure you have a safe, jolly time Ms. L/n.”

“But I-,”

“That’s enough. I understand this is an unprecedented situation, but the only alternative would be to leave you here alone and that just is not going to happen. Please Ms. L/n, make this easy for everyone.” With his hand he motioned towards the door.

“Fine,” you gritted out. You got off the couch and went to your room. You half-heartedly crammed anything you could into your suitcase. Some shirts, sweaters and pants. You ran out of space and resorted to carrying your books in your hands along with your potted plant. You felt bad leaving your lavender to just sit and wilt, so you took her with you.

“I made a few calls. Everything should work out. You all settled then?” Mr. Jameson said once you had made your way back to the common room. Nodding with a tight-lipped smile you headed out. You two could have walked but apparently, he was in a hurry to catch a six o’clock flight and you ended up taking his car.

It was a short drive and with reluctance you made your way inside the school. “Come on. Put a pep in your step,” Mr. Jameson clapped.

He navigated you around. You had only been in the main building, never the dorms. Blindly you let him guide you until you found yourself in a room with four other boys and Angus. Angus who was supposed to be half-way to the airport by now. His sulky face shifted into one of shock. You took a step towards him only to be stopped by your dean's arm in front of you. The other guys were looking at you with mouths wide open. It was like their eyes were about to fall out of their sockets. You grumbled, not knowing what else to do.

Mr. Jameson took the lead, “Mr. Hunham? Correct?” He outstretched his hand for him to shake. Hesitantly the older man took it.

“What’s the meaning of this,” he pointed between Mr. Jameson and you.

“Unfortunate circumstances due to chance, and poor planning on our part. This is Ms. Y/n L/n. Come introduce yourself.”

“I’m Y/n L/n,” you shrugged, looking at Angus for guidance. In unison they all say hello.

“Can we speak in private,” Mr. Jameson asked.

“Alright,” Mr. Hunham says, “no funny business,” he gives a pointed look to the boys.

The two teachers leave, and you quickly move to Angus to encapsulate him in a quick hug.

“What the hell? What are you doing here?”

“Funny, I was going to ask the same thing.”

“What the hell Angus. You have a girlfriend?” A blonde boy with a red tie says as his eyes scan your figure. You shift uncomfortably at the action. “A smoking one too…”

“Shut it Kountze, you’re catching flies,” Angus scoffs.

The door creaks open as both gentlemen return from their brief chat. You and Angus move away from each other like you were caught doing something wrong.

“It seems we will be extending you an invitation to Ms. L/n,” Mr. Hunham says, “you okayed this with Woodrup?” He verifies again with Dean Jameson.

“Yes, it’s all settled. We at Janie Patrick’s School thank you. We owe you one,” he turns to you, “goodbye L/n, you’re in good hands.”

He was halfway through the door when Mr. Hunham cleared his throat obnoxiously loudly. “As I was saying, we will be following a standard school schedule.”

“Uh, sir? We’re on vacation.” Kountze points out.

“Which means we’ll be taking our meals together. And you will observe regular hours of study.”

“Are you kidding me?”

“The Peloponnesian War awaits, Mr. Kountze, you and Mr. Tully. The rest of you can get a jump on next semester. It’ll pay off. You’ll see.”

“We’re already holding over, and now we’re being punished for it?” Angus says bitterly and on fast reflex you rub his arm comfortingly. Mr. Hunham is just as fast to notice.

“Oh no, no, no. Do not tell me this is your girlfriend Mr. Tully.”

“Wh-what. No! We’re just friends.”

“Yeah, we were born on the same street!”

“I do not intend to break apart your romantic escapades all break long.”

“We. Are. Just. Friends,” Angus reaffirms, venom on his tongue. You could see the blush rising on his pale cheeks. You could feel your own as well.

“Mhm,” Hunham hums skeptically, his gaze lingers on you two for a second before glancing back at his clipboard, “Alright… You will be afforded limited windows for recreation and supervised physical activity.”

“The gyms are not even open yet.”

“Yeah, they only lacquered half the floor,” another boy points out, this one has long blonde hair that reaches his shoulders.

“Fresh air will do you good,” says Hunham.

“It’s like 15 degrees outside.”

“And the Romans bathed naked in the freezing Tiber. Adversity builds character Mr. Tully. Uh, speaking of which, the school will be cutting heat to dormitories and faculty housing and so we’ll all be bunking in the infirmary. With separate accommodations for Ms. L/n of course.”

They all groan. You're just upset. You had thought you would spend the next two weeks avoiding Ms. Orchard and lying to Angus about your whereabouts while he admiringly described the beaches of St. Kitts to you over postcards. Although you supposed it wasn’t all bad. You could spend more time with him, under the watchful glare of Angus' teacher of course.

Together you all get ready to haul your things to the infirmary before being stopped by Mr. Hunhams tsking in disapproval.

“You philistines are just going to let the lady carry her own things? I’m sorry to see Barton has failed in ingraining a sense of chivalry into you.”

“Oh no, it’s alright really, I can do it,” you protest but they all scramble to help you anyway. “Can I carry your suitcase Y/n?” Kountze says, in an odd way, that was meant to be suggestive.

“Okay Kountze, piss off,” Tully pushes him away, leaning down slightly to get your things, “let’s go.” He walks quickly out the door, leaving the rest of you to follow him.

As you are slapped in the face by the harsh winds you curse the idiots at your school who refused to let you wear pants. You were forced to put on double the tights and your warmest coat. It did not do anything to aid you and your shivering made that clear. It was like they wanted to torture you when the boys stopped halfway down the quad and in front of a truck. You're still holding your books so it's not like you can rub your arms to help you out a little. They were complaining about Hunham, who they so endearingly nicknamed “Walleye.”

“Hey, guys, hold up for a second,” Angus tells the young kids in front of you. He sets his, and your things, down on the grimy paved road. He searched through his pockets and lit a cigarette. “Want one?” he asks you and Kountze.

“No. I got something else. Give me that,” he grabs the lighter from him and sparks a joint.

“Hey, don’t smoke that out here. I don't want to get busted by Walleye.”

“Don’t be such a pussy,”

“I’m not a pussy, I just don't want to end up at Fork Union paying for your mistake.”

He ignores Angus and instead turns his attention to you instead, “You're not like a total priss right?”

You shake your head. At least you didn’t think you were.

“Alright,” he smirks and stretches his hand out for you to shake, “Teddy Kountze.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say. The other unnamed boy is the next to greet you.

“Jason Smith.”

“We know who you are. You want to hit this,” Teddy offers the jock the joint.

Jason scans his surroundings before agreeing, “Uh, yeah.”

“You got a great arm man,” he compliments,

“Yeah, well, it’s just football.”

“How’d you get stuck holding over?”

“I’m supposed to be skiing with my folks up at Haystack, but my dad put his foot down. Said I can’t come home unless I cut my hair.”

“So why don’t you cut your hair?

“Civil disobedience, man.”

“I dig that,” you comment. “You know that when they tried to cut that tree between our schools, I organized the tree-sitting.”

“Holy shit that was you? Figured it was some hippies from Boston,” Teddy snickers.

“Nope. I sat in that tree for hours, drinking from water bottles that Angus tossed up to us.”

“Did it work?” Jason wonders.

“For now, yeah.”

“Awesome…. But no, he’s cool. It’s just a battle of wills. Still, I was hoping he’d cave first, because the powder up at Haystack is so sweet right now.”

“What about you, Mr. Moto? Why are you here?” Teddy asks one of the first-year boys.

He appears embarrassed to be singled out, “No, my name is Ye-Joon. My family is in Korea, and they think it’s too far for me to travel alone.”

“I figured it was because your rickshaw was broken,” Teddy laughs to himself. Angus didn’t exaggerate when she said this guy was a jerk.

“What a rickshaw?”

Angus intervenes, “You’re an asshole, Kountze. Your mind’s a cesspool and a shallow one at that.”

“Who’s the asshole Tully? You’re the one who blew up history.” Jason notices the tension and brings the group's conversation back to the freshman.

“What’s your story man?”

“Alex Ollerman. I’m here because my parents are on a mission in Paraguay. We’re LDS. “Mormons, right?” Alex nods yes.

“Don’t you guys wear some kind of magic underwear?” It's like Teddy loves to hear himself talk, you think.

“Common misconception. Actually, it’s called a temple garment, and we’re only supposed to wear it when-.”

“Hey, what's with the townies?” Kountze spots two men emerging from the chapel with a large, heavy green tree in their grasp.

“Hey, what are you doing with our Christmas tree?” Angus shouts, tapping you on the shoulder in a way that says can you believe this?

“The school sold it back to us. Scotch pine, still fresh.” The stranger shouts back.

“Yeah, we’re going to put it back on the lot. We do it every year.”

“This is the most bullshit ever.”

The boys put out their separate smokes much to the relief of Alex and Ye-Joon. You fall behind the rest of them and Angus naturally finds his place next to yours. You stroll in silence until he decides to break the ice.

“You going to tell me what happened?”

“You tell me first. You were so excited to go on vacation.”

“One word. Stanley.”

You grimace, knowing what that means. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

“It’s whatever. They want to spend their honeymoon forgetting my existence then they can do just that. I’m almost an adult anyway. Then I can go anywhere I want anytime.”

“Is that what Judy said?”

“That was the bullshit excuse, yes.”

“Hey, you got me though. We’ll make this fun.”

“We have no tree, Hunham will be breathing down our back, and Kountze hasn’t stopped ogling at you since you arrived. Does that sound like the perfect Christmas to you?”

You laugh softly, “Ignore Hunham and Kountze. As for the tree, we could always Charlie Brown it. What do you think the lavender is here for?” You shake your plant a little. The purple bush sways in the wind.

He smiles, “Yeah… It’s not a bad little tree,” he begins to quote.

“Maybe it just needs a little love,” you say together and break into a fit of giggles.

#angus tully #the holdovers #angus tully x reader #i love this movie #reader insert

343 notes · View notes