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natsaffection · 3 months ago

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Ohh an idea 💡 in my head and I know you are perfect to write this, basically reader is working at a company that is run by bad guys but doesn't know it, so natasha is sent on a mission to get close to her and gather Intel, so couple weeks pass and reader finds out in the most distraught way which causes her to end everything with Natasha but still have a good heart decides to give everything natasha needs to take down the company, (happy ending or sad ending either works) 💝

Showing everything. | N.R

Warnings: Just Angst?

Word count: 8,4k

A/n: I'm so grateful every time I finish a Ask that's been on my list for weeks. So thank you for your patience each time. 🫶🏼

You had always dreamed of finding a job where you could make a difference in the world, but you never thought it would come in the form of an elegant office in the heart of New York City. The building, a towering glass structure shimmering in the sunlight, housed one of the city's most prestigious companies. Kinetica Industries. They were known for their groundbreaking technology and humanitarian efforts, advancing medical equipment and energy supply that had revolutionized the industry. It was a dream job, almost impossible to turn down.

You stumbled upon the opportunity by chance. A late night scrolling through endless job listings led you to Kinetica's website. The company was looking for someone with your exact skills: data analysis and project management. The job description was vague but intriguing. Analyzing trends, managing large datasets, coordinating with various departments. It sounded challenging yet rewarding, the kind of opportunity you needed to prove yourself. The application process was quick, almost too quick. A few online assessments, a virtual interview with a charming man who headed your department, and within a week, you were offered the job. They said they were impressed by your resume, your background in bioinformatics, and your impeccable reputation. The salary was more than generous, with benefits that seemed almost too good to be true. But eager to start fresh and leave the stagnation of your previous job behind, you didn't question it further. You accepted immediately.

Your first day was a whirlwind of activity. The office itself was as impressive as the building's exterior. Elegant, modern, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a panoramic view of the city. The air buzzed with innovation, with teams of people tirelessly working on the next big thing. You were given a tour, introduced to your colleagues. Bright, motivated people who all seemed to share your enthusiasm for the work. Your role was exactly as described, but with a small twist. You were part of a special project they called "The Initiative." It involved collecting and analyzing data from various sources to create predictive models that could be used for everything from disease prevention to energy distribution. It sounded noble, and you were thrilled to be part of something that could change the world.

But as you settled into your new role, you couldn't help but notice the layers of secrecy surrounding certain aspects of your work. Some files were restricted, accessible only with special clearance. Occasionally, your requests for specific datasets were met with vague answers or outright refusal. But whenever doubts arose, you reminded yourself that every company had its secrets, especially one as influential as Kinetica.

Meanwhile, in a dimly lit office in the underground levels of S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, Natasha Fury sat across from you, the tension in the air almost palpable. "Romanoff," Fury began, his single eye piercing through the twilight, "we have a problem. Kinetica Industries." Natasha leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. "The tech company? They've been on our radar for a while, haven't they?"

"They have." Fury confirmed. "But new intel suggests they're more than just a tech company. We believe they're a front for something far more dangerous. We suspect they're involved in illegal arms trading, possibly even human experimentation. But we need proof." Natasha nodded, understanding where this was going. "And that's where I come in."

"Exactly. We've identified someone on the inside, Y/N Y/L/N. She's new, only started about a week ago. As far as we can tell, she's clean. No criminal record, no ties to any organizations. She's the perfect target to infiltrate." Natasha leaned forward, studying the file Fury slid across the table. Your face stared back at her from the photo clipped to the top of the file, a bright smile, eyes full of hope. Natasha couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt, but she pushed it aside. This was a mission, and she had a job to do.

"What's the plan?" she asked, flipping through the file. "You'll go undercover as someone with a similar background, a data analyst, someone they might hire if the current employee doesn't work out. Your task is to gain her trust, find out what Y/n knows. If she's innocent, she might unknowingly be sitting on crucial information. If not.."

"I'll find out," Natasha finished, her voice cold and determined. Fury nodded, satisfied. "We need to act fast. Every day we wait is another day Kinetica could move their operations. I'm counting on you, Romanoff." Natasha stood up, tucking the file under her arm. "I won't let you down."

As she left Fury's office, her thoughts were already spinning with possibilities, strategies, and the cool detachment that came with every undercover mission. She knew this wouldn't be easy. You were innocent, or at least you seemed to be. But Natasha had learned the hard way that appearances could be deceiving. Her mission was clear: get close to you, gather the information, and expose Kinetica for what they really were. But as she prepared to step into your world, Natasha couldn't shake the feeling that this mission would become more complicated than she anticipated.

Your first weeks at Kinetica Industries were a whirlwind of new faces, complex datasets, and an overwhelming amount of information. You were slowly getting used to the office routine when you heard about the new hire. Natalie Rushman, as she was introduced, joined the team on a bright Monday morning. You first heard about her during the daily briefing. Your department head mentioned that Natalie was hired to assist with data analysis, given the increasing workload from "The Initiative."

"I want you to show her the ropes." Your boss said, his tone implying it was not a request. "She has a similar background to you, and I think you two will work well together." You nodded, trying to hide the concern you felt about being responsible for training someone so soon after starting yourself. You hadn't fully mastered your own tasks yet, and now you were supposed to mentor someone else? But you forced a smile and agreed, hoping that Natalie would be as easygoing as she seemed in her brief introduction.

It wasn't until later in the morning that you finally met her. You were in the office kitchen, struggling with the intricate espresso machine that seemed designed to torment anyone who wasn't a seasoned barista. You had managed to spill coffee grounds everywhere when you heard someone clear their throat behind you.

You turned around and saw Natalie standing there, a slight smile on her lips. Her red hair was tied back in a neat ponytail, and she wore a white blouse and tailored black pants that made her look effortlessly professional. "Need some help?" Natalie asked, her voice warm and slightly amused. You laughed, embarrassed to be caught in the middle of your coffee disaster. "I think this machine was designed by someone who hates caffeine addicts."

Natalie stepped forward, gently nudging you aside. "Mind if I give it a try? I've had my fair share of battles with these things."

"Be my guest." you replied gratefully, stepping back. Natalie moved with practiced ease, quickly coaxing the machine into cooperation and brewing two perfect cups of espresso. She handed you one, which you accepted with a wide grin. "You're a lifesaver." you said, taking a sip. The coffee was perfectm. Rich, smooth, and exactly what you needed to get through the rest of the day. "I'm Y/n, by the way. I'm supposed to show you around today."

"Natalie." she replied, her smile deepening. "And I appreciate the help. The first days are always a bit overwhelming."

"Don't I know it.." you said, rolling your eyes playfully. "I'm still trying to figure out where half the supplies are kept around here." Natalie laughed, a genuine but slightly guarded sound, as if she was still feeling out her new environment. "I'm sure we'll figure it out together. So, what exactly are we working on?" You began explaining the project to her, giving her an overview of "The Initiative" and what your roles would be. As you spoke, you noticed that Natalie was a good listener, nodding at the right moments and asking insightful questions. It was clear she knew what she was talking about, and you felt a little more at ease, knowing you weren't dealing with a complete novice.

"So," Natalie said as you walked back to the office with your coffees in hand, "what made you decide to work here?" You shrugged, trying to put your thoughts into words. "I guess I wanted to be part of something bigger, you know? Kinetica is doing some amazing things..or at least that's what they tell us. It's nice to think that the work we're doing here might actually make a difference."

Natalie nodded thoughtfully, as if considering her own reasons for being here. "I can understand that. It's nice to feel like what you're doing matters." You arrived at your desk, which was temporarily doubling as Natalie's workspace until hers was ready. You showed her how to log into the system, where to find the files she needed, and how to navigate the company's complex database. As you worked together, you noticed how quickly Natalie picked everything up. She seemed almost too proficient, as if she knew the system better than someone on their first day should. But you brushed the thought aside, some people were just quick learners, you thought.

The day passed smoothly, with the two of you working side by side and getting to know each other in small increments between tasks. Natalie was friendly but reserved, sharing just enough about herself to seem open without giving too much away. You found that you liked your new colleague, appreciating her calm demeanor and quick mind.

By the end of the day, you had made significant progress on your tasks, and you were starting to feel a sense of camaraderie with Natalie. As you prepared to leave, you turned to her with a smile. “Thanks for today, Natalie. You made my job a lot easier.” Natalie returned the smile, her green eyes sparkling in the fading daylight. “The feeling is mutual. I think we’re going to make a great team.” You nodded, feeling a warmth in your chest that you hadn’t expected. Maybe this new job wouldn’t be so overwhelming after all..

In the weeks that followed, the bond between you and Natalie deepened, evolving from a close friendship into something more intense, something charged. There was a tension between you that neither of you could ignore, a pull that grew stronger with every shared glance, every lingering touch. You had danced around your feelings for each other for a while, but the unspoken words were becoming harder to bear.

One evening, after another long day at the office, you found yourselves alone in the break room once again. The city lights cast a soft glow through the windows, the hum of the air conditioning the only sound breaking the silence. You sat closer than usual, your shoulders touching as you picked at the remnants of a shared dinner. Your heart raced, the proximity making it difficult to focus on anything other than the warmth of Natalie’s body next to yours.

“Natalie..” you began hesitantly, “I need to tell you something.” Natalie looked up from her food, her green eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that took your breath away. “What is it?”

You took a deep breath, gathering your courage. “I..I’ve been trying to understand these feelings I have for you.. I never thought I’d feel this way about someone I work with, but I can’t keep pretending it’s not there. I care about you, Natalie. More than just as a friend.” The words hung heavy in the air between you, filled with the weight of their honesty. You watched Natalie closely, searching her face for any sign of rejection or discomfort. But what you saw instead was a softening in her expression, a warmth that she hadn’t fully shown before.

“Y/n,” Natalie said softly, reaching out to take your hand, “I feel the same way. I’ve tried to keep my distance, to stay professional, but..I can’t help it. I love you.” Your heart leaped at her confession, your pulse quickening as the truth settled between you. “You.. you love me?”

Natalie nodded, her thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. “Yes, I do. And I’ve been so scared of what that means, but I can’t deny it any longer. I love you, Y/n.” The relief that washed over you was almost overwhelming, and without thinking, you leaned in and pressed your lips to Natalie’s in a kiss that was soft, tentative, and filled with all the emotions you had both been holding back.

Natalie responded immediately, her hand coming up to cup your cheek as she deepened the kiss, letting all her unspoken feelings flow into it. It was a moment of pure connection, where nothing else existed but the two of you and the love you shared. When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to process what had just happened.

“I can’t believe this is real..” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “It is,” Natalie murmured, her eyes shining with affection. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

For a moment, everything felt perfect. But as the warmth of the moment began to fade, a sharp pang of guilt pierced Natasha’s heart. She had just confessed her love to you, but the truth was far more complicated than she could admit. She wasn’t just Natalie Rushman, a data analyst who had fallen for her colleague..she was Natasha Romanoff, a spy sent to gather information from the woman she had just professed her love to.

As you sat there, your hand still in hers, Natasha knew she was at a crossroads. She had sworn to get the information she needed, to complete the mission no matter what. But now, with the thought of betraying you, her stomach twisted with guilt. “Y/n,” Natasha began, her voice heavy with what she was about to say, “I want us to be completely honest with each other. Totally honest. I need to know..is there anything about our project, about Kinetica, that seems strange to you? Anything that doesn’t add up?”

You frowned slightly, confused by the sudden change in topic. “What do you mean?” Natasha hesitated, hating herself for what she had to do, but knowing she had no choice. “I’ve just..noticed a few things that don’t quite fit. Some files that are restricted, some data that doesn’t quite match up. I thought maybe you’d noticed it too.” Your brow furrowed as you thought back over the past few months. “Well, there have been a few things that seemed odd, but I just figured it was part of working at such a high-level company. Why do you ask?”

Natasha swallowed hard, forcing herself to keep up the pretense. “I’m just worried, that’s all. I want to make sure we’re not missing anything important.” You nodded slowly, still puzzled but trusting Natalie’s concern. “I’ll keep an eye out, and if I notice anything, I’ll let you know. But..can we not talk about work right now? I just want to enjoy this moment with you.”

Natasha’s heart clenched at your words, the guilt threatening to overwhelm her. She had just used your moment of vulnerability to fish for information, and the realization made her feel sick. But she forced herself to push the guilt aside, to focus on the mission, even as it tore her apart inside. “Of course.” Natasha said softly, pulling you closer and kissing you again, trying to lose herself in the warmth and love she felt for you.

Weeks passed, and the bond between you and Natalie grew even deeper. Your relationship had blossomed into something beautiful, a refuge in the midst of the high-pressure jobs at Kinetica Industries. You spent as much time together as possible..dinners, quiet nights with movies, and long walks through the city. For you, it felt like you had finally found someone who understood you, someone you could trust completely. But for Natasha, the lines between her mission and her feelings for you were becoming increasingly blurred.

The guilt Natasha felt was a constant companion, gnawing at her whenever she saw your trusting smile or felt the warmth of your hand in hers. Natasha knew she was deceiving you, but every time she considered telling you the truth, the weight of her duty as an agent held her back. She had a job to do, and despite her feelings, she couldn’t abandon it.

One evening, after a particularly long day at the office, you invited Natasha to your place. You were behind on some work and needed to finish a report for the next day, but you didn’t want to miss out on spending time with Natalie. Natasha agreed, glad for any excuse to spend more time with you.

Your apartment was cozy and inviting, filled with the little details Natasha had come to love. Bookshelves overflowing with novels, a small collection of plants by the window, and a few framed photos of you with your family. You settled together on the couch, you with your laptop and Natasha with a book she had picked from your shelf. “I’m sorry I have to work tonight..” you said, giving Natasha an apologetic smile. “I just need to finish this report, and then I’m all yours.”

“Don’t worry.” Natasha replied with a smile of her own. “I’m just happy to be here with you. Take your time.” As you focused on your work, Natasha found herself watching you more than reading the book in her hands. The way your brow furrowed slightly when you were deep in thought, the absent-minded way you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. All of it made Natasha’s heart ache with affection and guilt. But as much as she wanted to lose herself in these feelings, Natasha couldn’t forget why she was there. This was an opportunity she couldn’t pass up. Your work might hold the key to the information S.H.I.E.L.D. needed, and Natasha had to take advantage of it, no matter how much it tore her up inside.

After about an hour, you stood up and stretched, yawning. “I need to make some tea. Want anything?”

Natasha nodded her head, giving you a reassuring smile. “This would be grate.” As you disappeared into the kitchen, Natasha’s heart pounded in her chest. This was her chance. She had to act quickly. She set the book aside and moved quietly to your laptop. The screen was still on, showing the report you were working on, but Natasha’s focus was on the folders and files scattered across the desktop. She opened one labeled “Project Data” her hands trembling slightly as she navigated through the documents.

Natasha scanned the files, her sharp eyes searching for anything that stood out or seemed significant. Most of the documents were routine. Xatasets, project reports, emails. But then she found something: a file titled “Confidential Research Notes.”

Her heart raced as she opened it and found a series of notes detailing experiments and datasets that she hadn’t seen before. It was more detailed than anything you had shown her at work, and as Natasha read through it, she realized it contained the kind of information S.H.I.E.L.D. had been looking for..details about Kinetica’s involvement in potentially illegal research, experiments that crossed ethical boundaries.

She heard the clink of a teacup in the kitchen, and panic surged through her. Quickly, Natasha copied the file onto a USB stick she had hidden in her bag. She had just closed the file when you returned, carrying twocups of tea. “Here you go.” you said with a smile, handing one of the cups to Natasha. “Thanks.” Natasha replied, taking the cup with slightly trembling hands and praying that you hadn’t noticed anything unusual.

You settled back down on the couch, taking a sip of your tea and letting out a contented sigh. “The report is almost done. After that, we can watch the movie you mentioned.” Natasha forced a smile, trying to push down the gnawing guilt and the tight knot in her stomach. “That sounds great.”

As you returned to your work, Natasha tried to relax, but the weight of what she had just done loomed over her. She had gathered the information she needed, but at the cost of betraying your trust. For the rest of the evening, Natasha was distant, her mind racing with thoughts of what would happen next.

You noticed the change in her demeanor and reached out to touch her arm, concern evident in your eyes. “Hey, is everything okay?” Natasha looked into your eyes, feeling her heart ache. “Yeah, I’m just..tired, I guess. It’s been a long day.”

You smiled gently and squeezed her arm. “I get it. We’ve both been working so hard lately. Let’s just relax tonight, okay? No more work, just us.” Natasha nodded, but her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Just us.” she repeated, her voice hollow. As you both snuggled up on the couch to watch the movie, Natasha tried to focus on the moment, to lose herself in the warmth of your presence. But no matter how hard she tried, the guilt and the knowledge of what she had done weighed heavily on her.

The following days were filled with an unbearable tension for Natasha. She knew she had to pass the information to S.H.I.E.L.D., but she dreaded what would happen when the truth came out. The time she spent with you, the smiles, the laughter, all felt tainted by the lie she was living. Finally, the day came when Natasha couldn’t put it off any longer. She knew she had to deliver the USB drive to S.H.I.E.L.D. The mission needed to be completed, but the thought of what that would mean for your relationship was almost too much to bear.

That evening, as you sat together at your kitchen table, your laptop open in front of you as you worked on another report, Natasha made her decision. She had to do this, even though it meant risking everything with you. But before she could leave, something happened that changed everything.

You called Natasha over, a confused look on your face. “Nat, can you look at something for me? This report doesn’t make sense.” Natasha’s heart skipped a beat, but she kept her expression neutral. “Sure, what’s going on?” she asked, walking over to the table.

You pointed at the screen, your brow furrowed in confusion. “I just got this email from my boss, and he attached this report. It’s about a security breach at Kinetica. They’re trying to figure out who accessed some confidential files..” Natasha’s blood ran cold, but she kept her voice steady. “A security breach? What files are they talking about?”

You scrolled through the report, your frown deepening. “It doesn’t say exactly, but it has something to do with our project. They’ve narrowed down the list of suspects, but I don’t recognize most of the names..except for one.”

You paused, your eyes widening as you focused on a name in the list: Natasha Romanoff.

“Natasha Romanoff?” you whispered, confusion and disbelief clear in your voice. You looked up at Natasha, searching her face for answers. “Wait, is that you? Is this some kind of mistake?”

Natasha felt the walls closing in on her. There was no more hiding, no more pretending. The truth was out, and there was no going back. “Y/n,” she began, her voice trembling, “I need you to listen to me.” You took a step back, fear and suspicion creeping into your eyes. “What do you mean?” you asked, your voice shaking.

Natasha’s heart broke at the sight of the fear in your eyes. “I’m still the same person, Y/n. I’m still me. But..I haven’t been honest with you.” Your hands shook as you hugged yourself, desperately trying to understand what was happening. “Who are you? Have you been lying to me this whole time?”

Tears welled up in Natasha’s eyes as she took a hesitant step toward you, but you flinched and stepped back. “Please, let me explain..” Natasha pleaded, her voice breaking. “My real name is Natasha Romanoff. I’m an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. I was sent here to gather information on Kinetica. But everything else..everything between us..it was real. My feelings for you, Y/n, are real.”

Your eyes darted around the room as if searching for something familiar, something to hold onto. But everything felt wrong. The woman you loved, the woman you trusted, was a stranger. “You used me?” you asked, your voice trembling with anger and fear. “You used me the whole time?”

“No!” Natasha said quickly, desperation creeping into her voice. “It started as a mission, yes, but I never meant to fall in love with you. I never wanted to hurt you. Please, Y/n, you have to believe me.” You shook your head, backing away until you hit the wall. “I don’t know what to believe anymore. I don’t even know who you are. Natasha Romanoff, S.H.I.E.L.D.… it sounds like something out of a Movie..”

Natasha’s heart shattered as she watched you crumble before her. She took a tentative step closer, her hands shaking. “I’m still the person you fell in love with, Y/n. I’m still the person who loves you more than anything. Please, let me explain everything.” You stared at Natasha, your heart breaking all over again. “You should have told me the truth from the beginning! But you didn’t. You lied to me, and now..now I don’t even know who you are..”

Natasha took another step forward, reaching out tentatively. “I’m so sorry, Y/n. I know I’ve hurt you, and I’ll never forgive myself for that. But I’m begging you, please give me a chance to make it right.” You looked down at Natasha’s outstretched hand, but the fear and betrayal in your heart were too overwhelming. You couldn’t bring yourself to take it. “I can’t..” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I can’t do this. I need you to leave.”

Natasha’s heart broke at your words, but she knew she had no right to ask for forgiveness, not now. “Y/n, I-”

“Just go!” you cried, your voice filled with agony. “Please, just go. I can’t look at you right now.” Natasha’s hands fell to her sides, her shoulders slumping as the weight of what she had done crashed down on her. She had lost you, and there was nothing she could do to fix it. But as much as it hurt, she knew she had to respect your wishes.

“I’m so sorry..” Natasha whispered, tears streaming down her face. “I love you, Y/n. I’ll always love you.” Without another word, Natasha turned and left your apartment, the door closing behind her with a finality that echoed through the empty space. You stood there, frozen, your heart shattered into a thousand pieces as the truth of Natasha’s betrayal washed over you. The apartment that once felt like a safe haven now felt cold and empty, the warmth of Natasha’s presence gone, replaced by a suffocating sense of loss. You slid down the wall, pulling your knees to your chest as your body shook with sobs. The woman you loved, the woman you trusted, was a lie, and you didn’t know if you could ever trust anyone again.

Hours passed, and eventually, your tears dried up, leaving you with a hollow feeling inside. But despite the pain, you couldn’t ignore the truth that Natasha had revealed. Kinetica was involved in something dangerous, something that needed to be stopped. And despite everything, you knew you couldn’t just walk away.

Slowly, you got to your feet, your resolve hardening. You would do what needed to be done, not for Natasha, but because it was the right thing to do. You walked over to your laptop and opened the files you had been working on. With a heavy heart, you gathered everything you knew about Kinetica’s activities, your hands shaking as you worked. The information you collected could help bring the company down, but it came at the cost of everything you believed in, everything you felt.

When you finished, you copied the files onto a USB stick and set it on the table. You stared at it for a long time, your thoughts filled with memories of the woman you thought you knew, the woman you loved. Finally, you took a deep breath and reached for your phone. You hesitated for a moment before dialing the number Natasha had given you, the one you were supposed to use only in an emergency.

Natasha answered on the first ring, her voice thick with emotion. “Y/n?”

“I have the information you need.” you said, your voice firm despite the storm of emotions raging inside you. “It’s on a USB stick. I’ll leave it at the café near my apartment tomorrow morning. You can pick it up there.”

“Y/n, please, can we talk-” Natasha began, but you cut her off.

“There’s nothing more to say.” you said quietly. "That's it, Natasha. After this, we're done. Don't contact me again."

A long silence followed on the other end of the line, and you could hear the pain in Natasha's voice when she finally spoke. "Thank you. I'm so sorry. For everything."

You swallowed the lump in your throat and tried to keep your emotions under control. "Goodbye, Natasha."

The mission was over. Kinetica Industries had been exposed, its leaders arrested, and the illegal activities shut down. Natasha had completed her assignment, but the victory felt hollow. As the dust settled, she could only think about you, how she had lost you and how desperate she was to make things right.

Days turned into weeks, and the absence of you in Natasha's life became unbearable. The empty silence in her apartment echoed the emptiness in her heart. She replayed the last conversation she had with you over and over in her mind, haunted by the pain in your voice, the cold finality of your words. Natasha knew she had no right to ask for forgiveness, but she couldn't live with the thought that you hated her, that the love you had shared was now just a memory tainted by lies. After much deliberation, Natasha decided she had to try one last time to explain herself and apologize in person. She knew it was a long shot..you had made it clear you didn't want to see her again but Natasha couldn't leave things the way they were. She had to try.

One evening, just as the sun was setting, Natasha made her way to your apartment. The familiar building loomed before her, but this time it felt different..colder, more intimidating. She hesitated at the entrance, her heart pounding in her chest. What if you refused to listen? What if you called the police before she even had a chance to say anything? But she knew she couldn't turn back now. She took a deep breath, entered the building, and walked to your door. She stood there for a long moment, gathering her thoughts before she finally raised her hand and knocked softly.

There was a long pause, and Natasha's heart sank as she imagined you ignoring her, refusing to even open the door. But then she heard footsteps approaching, and the door opened a crack, revealing your wary eyes. Your expression shifted from surprise to anger as soon as you saw Natasha. Your hand tightened around the doorknob, and you narrowed your eyes. "What are you doing here?" you asked, your voice cold and hard.

"Y/n, please, I just want to talk." Natasha said quickly, raising her hands in a gesture of surrender. "I know I don't deserve it, but I need to explain-" You cut her off, your voice sharp with anger. "Explain? There's nothing left to explain, Natasha. You lied to me, used me, and now you have the nerve to show up at my door?"

"Please.." Natasha pleaded, her voice breaking. "Give me five minutes." Your eyes flashed with a mix of anger, pain, and something else that Natasha couldn't quite place. You hesitated, your hand still gripping the doorknob as if you were weighing whether to slam the door in her face. "If you don't leave right now." you said, your voice trembling with barely suppressed emotion, "I'll call the police."

Natasha felt her heart sink, but she didn't move. She knew you were serious, but she also knew that if she walked away now, she would never have another chance to make things right. "Do it." Natasha said quietly, "Call them if you want. But please, hear me out first. I need to show you how sorry I am. I know I can't undo what I've done, but I can't live with myself if I don't at least try to apologize."

You stared at Natasha, your hand shaking as you gripped the doorknob. The pain in your eyes was unmistakable, and it broke Natasha's heart to see how much she had hurt you. For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the tension between you thick and suffocating. Finally, you let out a shaky breath and loosened your grip on the doorknob. "You have five minutes," you said, "But if you lie to me again, I swear I'll call the police."

Natasha nodded, relief washing over her even though she knew this was only a small victory. "Thank you." she whispered, stepping back as you opened the door just enough to let her in. You led Natasha into the living room, a space that had once felt warm and inviting but now felt cold and distant. You gestured for Natasha to sit on the sofa, but you remained standing, arms crossed over your chest as you waited for her to speak.

"Okay," Natasha began, her voice trembling, "I know I've hurt you in a way I can never fully apologize for. I deceived you and betrayed your trust. But I need you to know that every moment I spent with you, every touch, every word I said to you, was real. My feelings for you are real." Your eyes flashed with anger, and you shook your head. "How am I supposed to believe that? You're a trained spy. Lying is part of your job."

"I know.." Natasha said, her voice breaking slightly. "And that's why I'm not asking for your forgiveness. I know I don't deserve it. But I couldn't leave things the way they were. I couldn't let you believe that everything between us was just part of the mission. It wasn't. You became the most important person in my life, and I was so scared of losing you."

"Then why didn't you tell me the truth?" you asked, your voice trembling with pent-up emotion. "Why did you wait until I had to find out this way?" Natasha swallowed hard, tears welling up in her eyes. "Because I was a coward. I didn't want to lose you, and I thought that if I could just finish the mission, maybe..just maybe we could have a life together afterward. But I was wrong. I should have been honest with you from the start."

You shook your head, tears filling your eyes as well. "You should have. But you didn't. And now I don't know if I can ever trust you again." A tear rolled down Natasha's cheek, but she made no move to wipe it away. "I understand." she said softly. "I know I've broken your trust, and I have to live with that. I just wanted you to know that I love you, Y/n. I will always love you. And if you never want to see me again, I'll respect that. But please don't think that I didn't care about you, because I do."

You looked away, blinking back tears. "You should go, Natasha. There's nothing more to say." Natasha nodded, her heart breaking all over again. "I'm sorry." she whispered, her voice barely audible. "For everything."

Without another word, Natasha turned and walked to the door, her steps heavy with the weight of the finality of the situation. She paused in the doorway, casting one last look at you, hoping to find something..anything that might suggest there was still a chance for you both. But your expression remained cold and distant, your eyes avoiding hers. With a heavy heart, Natasha opened the door and stepped out into the hallway. The door clicked shut behind her with a soft thud that echoed in the silence that followed. Natasha stood there for a moment, letting the reality of what had just happened sink in. She had tried, but it was over. You were right. There was nothing more to say.

Unknown to you, the case of Kinetica’s downfall was far from over. The company’s leaders were desperately trying to cover their tracks, attempting to salvage what they could. But amid the chaos, they discovered something alarming: You, one of their employees, had been the one to pass on the damning information that had led to their downfall. And now they wanted revenge.

You were alone in your apartment one evening, your thoughts drifting as you tried to focus on the book you were reading. The quiet was soothing, a respite from the whirlwind of emotions you had been grappling with. But that peace was abruptly shattered by a sudden, insistent knocking at your door. Frowning, you set the book aside and walked to the door, peering through the peephole. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw two men standing outside, men you didn’t recognize, but something about their presence immediately set off alarm bells in your head.

“Who is it?” you called out, trying to keep your voice steady despite the unease rising within you. “Delivery.” one of the men said, but there was no package in sight, and his tone was too cold, too rehearsed.

Your instincts kicked in, and you stepped away from the door, your heart racing. These weren’t delivery men..they were here for something else, something far more sinister. Panic gripped you as you realized that Kinetica must have found out what you had done. Just as you were about to reach for your phone, the door burst open with a loud crash, the two men forcing their way in. You screamed and stumbled back, your thoughts racing with fear and desperation. But before they could reach you, another figure appeared in the doorway, moving with deadly precision. Natasha.

She had been keeping an eye on your apartment since your last conversation, knowing that Kinetica might try something. When she saw the men approaching your building, she knew immediately what their target was and she wasn’t going to let them harm you. “Get away from her.” Natasha snarled, her voice cold and dangerous.

The men turned to face Natasha, but they barely had time to react before she was on them. In a blur of motion, she disarmed the first man, sending his weapon skittering across the floor. The second man lunged at her, but she easily dodged and delivered a powerful kick to his stomach, sending him crashing into the wall. You watched in stunned silence as Natasha took down the men with brutal efficiency, her movements fluid and controlled. The fight was over in seconds, the two men lying unconscious on the floor as Natasha stood over them, breathing heavily.

For a moment, the apartment was eerily silent, the only sound the ragged breaths of the two women. Your heart pounded in your chest, your mind struggling to process what had just happened. Natasha turned to you, her expression a mixture of concern and relief. “Are you okay?” she asked, her voice softer now, laced with the fear she had tried to suppress.

You nodded slowly, your eyes wide as you stared at Natasha. “I..I think so..” you stammered, still trying to grasp everything. “What..what are you doing here?”

“I couldn’t leave you unprotected.” Natasha said, stepping closer, her eyes full of guilt and love. “I knew Kinetica might come after you. I couldn’t let that happen.” Your gaze flickered to the unconscious men on the floor, then back to Natasha. “You..you saved me.”

Natasha nodded, her heart aching at the vulnerability in your voice. “I will always protect you. No matter what’s happened between us, I’ll always be here for you.” Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at Natasha, the woman who had lied to you, who had betrayed you, but who had also just saved your life. The fear and anger you had been holding onto began to waver, replaced by a deep, conflicting emotion you couldn’t fully understand. “Why?” you whispered, your voice trembling. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I love you.” Natasha said, her voice heavy with emotion. “I know I’ve hurt you, and I know you may never forgive me, but I had to make sure you were safe. You mean everything to me, Y/n.”

Your heart broke at the sincerity in Natasha’s voice. Despite everything, despite the lies and betrayal, Natasha’s love for you was real. And in that moment, you realized that your own feelings were just as complicated. You were angry, you were hurt, but you still loved her..more than you wanted to admit.

The two of you stood in silence, the weight of your emotions heavy in the air. Your mind raced with conflicting thoughts, torn between the betrayal you felt and the undeniable connection that still existed between you. Finally, you took a shaky breath. “I don’t know if I can forgive you, Natasha..” you said quietly. “But I can’t ignore what you just did for me. You saved my life. And..and I still care about you. I don’t know what that means, but I need time to figure it out.”

Natasha nodded, tears glistening in her eyes as she looked at you. “Take all the time you need.” she whispered. “I’ll be here, no matter what you decide.” You nodded hesitantly, the storm of emotions inside you beginning to calm. “Thank you.” you said softly, your voice barely audible.

Natasha stepped back, giving you the space you needed. “I’ll take care of this.” she said, gesturing to the unconscious men on the floor. “And then I’ll go, if that’s what you want.” You looked at Natasha, your heart heavy with everything that had happened between you. “I don’t know what I want..” you admitted, your voice trembling. “But I think..I think I need to be alone right now.”

Natasha nodded, her eyes reflecting the understanding she felt, even though the pain was clear. “I understand.” she said quietly. “Just know that if you ever need anything, anything at all, I’m here.”

You didn’t respond, but the look in your eyes said enough. You stood there, watching as Natasha efficiently secured the two men, ensuring they wouldn’t pose any further threat. She worked in silence, the weight of the situation pressing down on both of you. When Natasha was finished, she stood by the door, hesitating for a moment as if searching for the right words, but then deciding against saying anything more. With one last, sorrowful glance in your direction, she turned and left your apartment, the door closing softly behind her.

You stood frozen in place, your mind reeling from everything that had just happened. The apartment, which had been filled with tension and violence just moments ago, now felt eerily quiet. Slowly, you sank onto the couch, your body trembling as the reality of the situation settled over you.

You were filled with so many conflicting emotions that it was hard to sort through them all. Anger, fear, relief, affection..they all swirled within you, and you didn’t know how to make sense of them. You had asked Natasha to leave because you weren’t sure of anything anymore. And though it felt like the right thing to do, now that she was gone, you felt a cold emptiness spreading through your chest. A part of you wanted to call her back, wanted her to stay so you could work through these chaotic feelings together. But another part of you knew that you needed time to be alone, to sort through everything that had happened between the two of you.

The night passed in a blur of thoughts and emotions, with sleep coming only in brief, restless intervals. When morning finally came, you felt just as exhausted as you had the night before. But with the new day came a certain clarity. You knew you couldn’t stay in this limbo forever. Natasha had told you that she would always be there for you, and you believed her. But the question was whether you could let her back into your life, whether you could ever trust her again.

As the day dragged on, you tried to focus on mundane tasks, but thoughts of Natasha kept intruding. Finally, after hours of agonizing, you decided you needed more information to figure out a path forward. If there was any chance of peace or understanding between you, you needed to know the whole truth. The next day, you called Natasha. She answered immediately, and you could hear the mix of hope and concern in her voice. “Y/n?”

“I want to know everything.” you said, your voice firm even as your heart raced. “I can’t move on without understanding everything. No more secrets, no more lies. If there’s any chance for us to find peace, you need to show me everything.”

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line before Natasha spoke, her voice filled with relief and caution. “I understand. I’ll take you to S.H.I.E.L.D. You’ll have access to everything, my reports, the mission files. Whatever you need to know.”

You nodded, even though she couldn’t see it. “Okay. When can we go?”

“Right now.” Natasha said without hesitation. “I’ll come pick you up.”

True to her word, Natasha arrived at your apartment shortly after. The drive to the S.H.I.E.L.D. building was silent, the tension between you both palpable. Natasha stole worried glances at you from time to time, but you kept your gaze fixed out the window, lost in your thoughts. When you arrived at the unassuming building that housed S.H.I.E.L.D.’s operations, Natasha guided you through a series of security checks, her presence and clearance making the process smooth. You followed her, your heart pounding with a mix of fear and curiosity. This was a world you never imagined you would be a part of.

Finally, you arrived in a large conference room. Natasha gestured for you to take a seat at the table while she went to a console on the wall and entered a series of commands. The large screen in the room flickered to life, displaying a series of files and documents. “This is everything.” Natasha said quietly, turning to face you. “My mission files, the reports I sent, the details of Kinetica’s operations. You have full access.”

You stared at the screen, your heart racing. “Why are you doing this? Why are you showing me all of this?”

“Because I owe you the truth.” Natasha replied, her voice steady but laced with emotion. “And because I want you to know that I’m not hiding anything from you anymore. I know I broke your trust, but I want to do whatever it takes to rebuild it. Even if that means showing you everything.”

The next few hours were spent going through everything, the initial mission briefing, how Natasha was assigned to get close to you to gather information on Kinetica, and how she struggled with her growing feelings for you. She explained how she tried to keep you out of harm's way even as she fulfilled her mission, and how every moment you shared, despite the circumstances, had been genuine.

You listened intently, absorbing every word, every detail. There were moments when your anger flared up again, moments when you wanted to shout at Natasha for the betrayal, for the pain she had caused. But there were also moments of understanding, moments when you saw the inner conflict Natasha had gone through, torn between her duty and her growing love for you.

When Natasha finished, she looked at you, her heart pounding in her chest. “I know this doesn’t undo the lies, but I wanted you to see that I truly cared about you. I never wanted to hurt you, Y/n.” You remained silent for a long time, processing everything you had learned. You felt raw, exposed, but also strangely relieved. This was what you had needed. the full truth, with nothing held back.

Finally, you looked at Natasha, your expression unreadable. “You were honest with me today, Natasha, and I can feel that. For the first time, I feel like I’m really seeing you..with all your strengths and flaws, with all your mistakes.” Natasha nodded, her voice soft as she responded, “That’s all I wanted. To be honest with you, even if it costs me everything.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples as you tried to organize your thoughts. “I don’t know where we go from here, Natasha. I don’t know if I can ever fully trust you again. But..I see that you’re trying. And that means something.” Natasha felt a small spark of hope ignite in her chest, but she didn’t dare let it grow too large. “Thank you, Y/n. That’s more than I deserve.”

You looked at Natasha, your eyes filled with a mix of sadness and something that resembled hope. "Maybe it’s a start. I don’t know what the future holds for us, but at least now I know the truth. And that’s more than I had before.”

Natasha nodded, her heart heavy, but she was grateful. “Whatever happens, I’m here. If you need space, I’ll give you that. If you want to talk, I’ll listen. I won’t go away.” You managed a small, tired smile. “I guess we’ll just have to see where this takes us.”

You both left the S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters together, the tension between you eased but the future still uncertain. As you stepped out into the bright afternoon sun, Natasha glanced at you, and for the first time in weeks, she felt a cautious spark of hope. You caught her glance and sighed. “It’s going to take time, Natasha. I don’t know if things can ever be the way they were, but.. we can find something new. Something honest.”

Natasha nodded, her heart swelling with emotion. “That’s what I’d like.” As you walked side by side, the past still loomed over you, but for the first time, there was a path forward..a path that might lead to healing, to forgiveness, and maybe even to a future where you could rebuild what had been broken. The road ahead would be difficult, full of challenges and doubts, but you had taken the first step together. And for now, that was enough.

#natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #dom!natasha x reader #natasha romanov x reader #nat x reader #natasha romonova #natasha romanoff x reader #the avengers #natasha

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kittyscupcakeandbunny · 1 year ago

Text

CRAZY OVER YOU x MIN YOONGI

[HYBRID AU]

PART ONE

Love at first bite

Side Characters: Namjoon/doctor, Seokjin/doctor, Taehyung/Hybrid Tiger.

Warnings: Smut, mentions of blood, sharp objects, rut, beast behavior, medical experiments, meds.

Genre: Fantasy, hybrids au, smut.

SUMMARY》 Yoongi is a black mamba hybrid one of rarest species of hybrids, who’s about to be put down due to his lack of interest in living. But everything changes after the new medical assistance (y/n) takes a liking to him. Meeting after meeting he realise his feelings for her are not the only thing growing.

<< Previous Chapter. Next Chapter >>

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My feet hurt. I’ve been running back and forth around the clinic way past my working hours already.

To be honest I think the assistants work more than the doctors, I should have gone home by now. My shift ended four hours ago. Yet i couldn’t go home.

Lately the clinic has been very busy, hybrids were coming in and out of the clinic to get treatment and the fact that so many rescued hybrids from the outside were coming, made the ones we had already been taking care of at the clinic agitated. With their higher level of hearing and smelling it was impossible to completely hide the different cents.

The world we live in is not the same anymore, we exists between hybrids. And I work in a clinic that takes care of them.

The biggest hybrid clinic in our city, is was more then just a clinic for hybrid species. It was a hospital, lab where scientific studies and research took place, and a clinic for treatments.

It was late at night when things seemed to have cooled down. I decided to drink some coffee at the cafeteria on the first floor.

Sitting down in one of the tables I put my hot coffee over it, taking the files of my patients for tomorrow morning in hand reading their appointments and preparing for it.

- yn! - I look up to see Hoseok, one of the assistants that worked on the especial cases.

- hey hobi - i greet him, he sits down in front of me looking more exausted than ever. - oh you look awful…

- don’t even tell me about it - he said - guess who was my patient today?

- no idea… - I tell him, taking a sip from my coffee.

- the snake hybrid - he said, I almost gagged in my coffee.

- no way! What is like? - i asked, the most special hybrid in our clinic was the rarest one. The black mamba hybrid.

- an asshole? - he said, I chuckled at him - no seriously, he’s so difficult to treat like he doesn’t eat because he doesn’t like the food, always complain about the people around him… and today, he bit my colleague be cause he didn’t like that way he smelled.

- he bit him? - i asked, completely amused.

- yes, he’s in the hospital by now - at his words I looked up at him worried.

- so… - before I said anything my phone start to ring. I sight tiredly - gotta go.

He only nodded understanding as I got up from my seat to leave.

- hey… - I say as I take the call. I threw the plastic cup of coffee in the trash can as I leave the cafeteria.

- boss is looking for you - he tells me. It was one of my coworkers.

- I’ll go then, thanks.

I turned off the call making my way to the elevators in the hallway. By boss he meant Seokjin, it was a nickname we all agreed on since he’s the director of the clinic. As I walked towards the elevators i kept wondering why he asked for me at this hour, Jin was usually so busy I could bearly talk to him not did I ever seen him having lunch break or any break at all. He always made sure the hybrids were well treated at the clinic and worked really hard for it.

From afar i notice Namjoon standing there in front of the elevator doors waiting for it, he was looking through some papers on his hand too focused to even notice my presence beside him.

- hey - i greet him.

- hey… - he reply, not looking my way. He had a hard expression on his features.

Once the door opened in front of us we both get in the elevator, me fallowing right after him. I press the bottom to the third floor.

- what is this? - I ask him intrigued, as he seemed completely focused on the paper to notice his surroundings.

- my new patient - he sighed now looking at me - he’s one of the rare hybrids we have and it looks like he’s going to get put down.

- what? Why? - I was genuinely surprised, rare hybrids were so special in the clinic one of them being put down could only meant one thing - is he sick?

- no - he said getting out of the elevator once the door opened at our desire floor, i fallow him - just an asshole.

- oh? - i was genuinely confused, but didn’t push him to tell me - You going to Jin’s office?

- yes - he said, lookin stressed - he called me to discuss this patient, what about you?

- He called for me but, I don’t know yet - i reply, we walked the long corridor till were finally standing in front of Seokjins office.

After nocking on the door and receiving a low “come in” from Seokjin we both made our way inside his office. Namjoon opened the door for me to get in first then he fallowed me behind, shutting the door. Jin sat on his desk, hands on his face as he covered his eyes in despair looking more tired than ever, a look i never thought I would see on his face.

- Jin you look… - he didn’t let me finish.

- I know - he sighted, now looking at us both in front of him.

- why did you called us? - Namjoon asked.

- I need your help with this rare hybrid case - He said.

Jin started walking around his desk to sit down.

- my father passed to me the responsibility of taking care of the… euthanasia of him.

- but why? - i asked.

- well… it’s been years and he never once put it in the effort to live - he said taking a few papers and giving it to me and Namjoon, the hybrid records - he’s not eating anymore, doesn’t get any heats, makes no effort on mating and doesn’t let anyone help with his shedding .

- Shedding? - i asked, so he means… the rare snake hybrid.

- yes. He’s now in your hands - Jin said, looking at me and Namjoon.

- you want us to do exactly what? - Namjoon asked - from the looks of it, doesn’t seem like we can do anything about it.

- you both will be working on this case with me, the big boss - he made a sing pointing up, signaling the higher ups, his father - found a female rare snake hybrid and he wants them to reproduce before euthanizing him.

I felt sick.

- are you kidding me?! - i said, stunted - you’re just going to… - I couldn’t even say it - after all theses years?

- I know that’s why i want you guys to work on it, - a long sigh left his lips - i only trust you both with this.

- maybe we can help him out and not put him down? - I tell him.

- believe me y/n - Jin looked at me deep in the eyes - we tried but…. Sometimes is better this way, is hard on him too.

I looked down at the papers in my hands.

Min Yoongi - snake hybrid.

Code: RED. Dangerous species. Specie: Black mamba.

Date of birth: Unknown. Male.

Current status: to be put down. Date: three months from now.

Resume: This patient needs to be prepared for a mating season as he had never had one, to ensure the precision and higher chances of reproduction of the rare hybrid species. The black mamba hybrid is to be taken care of from now to the time of mating, every side effect must be related to the one in charge of the case. To ensure assurance that this case will be dealt with assertiveness.

I felt sick.

….

I couldn’t help but think about it for the rest of the day. The fact that they would just give up on him after all these years of testing and keeping him lock up in here that he simply didn’t want to make any effort to live anymore, and how the clinic was just going to put him down not giving a single care about him for real.

They are going to end him right after they get him to reproduce, just to ensure they still have a rare hybrid of his specie. Another one to end just like him.

Looking down at the food in front of me I felt sick in my stomach at that. How could they?

- you look deep in thought - Namjoon said over me, he sat down in front of me after putting his tray of food on the table.

- sorry i just can’t stop thinking…

- about the hybrid? - he said - look I know you and I’m sure that’s why Jin chose you to assist me with this case but, let’s just make sure he at least leave in peace okay?

- okay..

No.

I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I did. You don’t know me Namjoon, I’ll make sure that hybrid lives.

No matter what it takes.

- we’ll meet him later right? - i ask him, he looks at me over his lashes as he holds his phone looking at it.

- yeah, after lunch - he takes off his glasses - are you ready to see the snake hybrid for the first time?

- yeah - I wonder what he looks like, most hybrids have some feature that help identifying what kind of hybrid they are. Does the snake hybrid has scales all over him? - he shouldn’t look too scary right?

Namjoon only giggle at my question, a knowing smile growing on his lips and my mind quickly realizing it.

- Kim Namjoon! You’ve meet him already! - i stated.

- of course I did, he had an appointment at six in the morning. - he said, a sight leaving his lips - What an ass.

- why so early? - knowing Namjoon hates waking up too early, he must felt stressed. Especially having to take care of a hybrid that demands so much more care.

- His sleep circle is different… - he started - and since we are trying to get him to feel the beginning of a heat so he can mate, his room was changed to acommodate him.

- oh… - realization hits me - so it will give the illusion of his heat beginning?

- yes, we also changing the room temperature to make it happen as naturally as possible - he said - the hotter the better.

- no way… - i said - I’ll have to work in hell too?

- trust me.. it doesn’t need hot temperatures to make it hell. - Namjoon looked at me - he’s good at that on his own.

- is he that bad? - he couldn’t be… right?

- I’ll let you see it for yourself - was all Namjoon said.

After lunch Namjoon passed me the instructions of our appointment with the snake hybrid, since he wasn’t eating he had to take vitamins straight into the blood.

To be honest i felt sad at that. You don’t eat when you don’t have an appetite, is he that bad in condition to not even eat? They’ve been neglecting him for so long and now are trying to force him to mate.

More and more i questioned if what i was doing was right.

I walk beside Namjoon towards the elevators, special hybrids stay on the sixth floor so that’s where we’re headed. They need to be separated from the other hybrids as their instincts are a lot more higher and demand more care, you can’t put cat hybrid in the same place you have a wolf hybrid. So we divided the floor for special species, wild hybrids in a floor and domestic hybrids in one. Of course there’s the special cases divided by codes, the snake hybrid was a code red which meant he was dangerous. Code reds are usually the hardest one to work with because they can and will hurt their doctors and especially other hybrids. Some don’t really mind the doctor but, other hybrids. Like a lion who sees a deer. They will always see them as a pray. So we have to keep them separate.

I look in front of me over the silver tray with the meds and vitamins he must take everyday, today Jin won’t be joining us he only will when much more serious procedures are to be taking action.

Namjoon is the one with the code to the hybrid door, each hybrid had their own room to accommodate all their individual needs. The snake room wasn’t different.

As soon as the door is open a heat of hot air hits me, the room is a bit dark but the lights get brighter as we enter, Namjoon walks towards the hybrid who lays on a big bed in the center of the room. Almost looking like a nest with all the covers and pillows around it.

I make my way to the table beside the door to prepare the meds and vitamins.

- good afternoon Yoongi - Namjoon says to the hybrid - time for your meds and vitamins.

- i don’t need it…. - a deep male voice says, the hairs in the back of my neck shivering at the sound of him - who’s is that?

He meant me. My heart skipped a beat at getting his attention. He is the first special hybrid I’ve ever meet. One of the most dangerous one too.

- that’s my assistant - Namjoon tells him, he’s talking about me - everything ready y/n?

- yes Joon… - i turn to him taking the silver tray with me.

Stopping in my tracks as I take in the figure of the hybrid. He didn’t look like anything i imagined, he didn’t have weird snake eyes and not was his skin full of scales like the reptile. He looked almost human… if it wasn’t for the almost unnoticeable scales on his neck that fallowed up to his ears so delicately, as he moved his head to the side eyes locked over my figure the scales shined a bit. A color of white pearl and soft grey.

He wore something different from what I was used to see on the other hybrids, while the others wore a type of pijama white clothing he whore silk shining bottom up shirt and pants.

Realizing i wasn’t moving and just staring rudely at the hybrid I quickly made my way to Namjoon to give him the meds. My checks burning.

- no - the hybrid said looking at Namjoon with a bored expression - i don’t like the way you smell… i won’t take anything from you.

- you still need to take your vitamins - Namjoon insisted taking one of the syringe from the tray.

- i said I don’t need it - the hybrid growls, coming closer.

- your condition tells me otherwise - Namjoon said to him, both looking at each other. The temperature seemed to rise even more as they looked almost like provoking each other. A silent fight.

The hyrbrid eyes found mine staring at his, he looked at me up and down no expression on his face. Than turned to Namjoon.

- she can do it - he said, a bored expression coming back to his features.

- she’s not in charge of that - Namjoon said, a stern lock on face - I’m the one who is, so get over it.

I looked at him chocked. He seemed angry. Namjoon who usually is calm and careful with his patients was now the complete opposite, he stood his ground and faced the hybrid as if trying to prove he was the Alfa.

And for the first time I was angry at him, not only this was a delicate case. The hybrid could attack if he felt threatened. That could only worsen the situation for the hybrid.

- I can do it Joon - i tell him quietly turning to him lifting the silver tray for him to take it. I gave him a nod of assurance. He looked at me than the hybrid.

- are you sure about it y/n? - he asked me, worry over his face now.

- of course i can - i assure him - I do it all the time.

His eyes locked with mine as he talked. I heard Namjoon sighed as he turned to me taking the silver tray from my hands.

Giving him a small smile I took the vitamins syringe, the hybrid stood in front of me opening his white shirt one bottom after the other eyes locked with mine to catch my reaction, I tried not give any reactions and keep my gaze eye level but it was impossible when he stood right there exposing his beautiful skin for me.

He wasn’t covered in scales as many would’ve imagine but definitely had a few on his ribs that fallowed down to his v line, just like before they shined a bit over the light a white pearl with silver. I gulped down eyes looking back into his as he stood in front of me reveling his left arm for me to aply the syringe. His eyes never once left mine, he had eyes so dark I couldn’t tell if there was any color in them black light the night sky.

I held his arm to insert the syringe into his skin, he didn’t move at all. During the whole processe he didn’t broke the eye contact. Cleaning the small bit of blood that came after taking the syringe off his skin. Namjoon gave me the next one, i apply it into his skin once again. After the last one, I cleaned and put a small piece of medical tape over it so it doesn’t bleed.

- I’m done… - i say, standing next to Namjoon. He gave me the tray and I took it to the table beside the door.

The hybrid began to bottom up his shirt. Namjoon look it up the papers for the hybrid next appointment as I took the small white cup with he’s meds walking back to the hybrid I held the cup up for him to take. He took the cup from my hand brushing his fingers over mine, his hand looking much bigger than mine, I kept my focus on that too nervous to look up into his dark eyes again. I held the water up for him, which he took it again brushing his fingers over mine. He drank it my eyes fallowing up at his neck starring at the scales over his skin. They looked so delicate almost like a painting over his skin, closer you could see that little silver that shined over the light. Not realizing he came closer until I felt his breath hitting over my face, making me look at him immediately. Dark eyes staring into mine with boredom, he tilted his head to the side coming closer inspecting my face.

- you’re not afraid? - he whispered, only for me to hear. My breath got stuck on my throat.

- should I be?… - I whispered back, swallowing hard. He looked down at me than back into my eyes, tilting his head to the other side black orbs staring deep into mine i fallow his move tilting my head to the same side. Complete hypnotized by him.

- any changes in your shedding? - Namjoon asked the hybrid, while writing something down on the paper. - it should have started already.

At hi voice I came back to reality, turning quickly with the two cups. Taking them to the table beside the door to despose of them int he trash can.

Making my way back to stand beside Namjoon once I was done, my eyes going back to the hybrid standing in front of us.

He had the same expression as before, unbothered.

- same as always - he answered tiredly, going back to his bed.

I saw the way his plain answer made Namjoon clench his jaw. He wasn’t making any effort to cooperate with Namjoon, I notice he was difficult but not an asshole. It was painful to watch them interact, Namjoon clearly didn’t like the way the hybrid acted but, I have dealt with a few difficult hybrids before this was only a way to protect themselves after going through so much.

This behavior seemed to be common with Wild species, I’ve seen it before with a lion hybrid I took care of before.

Sometimes you just have to be persistent, and careful.

- I heard it could be painful if not taken care of, is everything alright with it? - i asked this time, which made both males look at me.

The hybrid looked at me not saying anything for a while. Than he smirked and walked towards me making Namjoon stand closer to me protectively. He looked at Namjoon smile slowly falling forming into a bored expression again, showing how the presence of the other male affected him.

- I don’t want any of your help with it - he said, eyes locked into mine - last time…

- you almost killed one of our doctors - Namjoon interrupted the hybrid, one arm closing around me to put me back.

Almost…

- he shouldn’t have touched me - the hybrid said eyes burning over Namjoon, anger on his face.

Hands closing into fists, he walked closer to us standing in front of Namjoon. He was ready to attack if needed, if something is not done it could end very badly Namjoon doesn’t notice but with this behavior he is provoking the hybrid to act instinctively.

It is clear that the heat season has started for him and in mating season hybrids tend to get more competitive and sensitive, a male showing up to his space staring dominance wouldn’t do any good.

- you both stop - i said releasing myself from Namjoon standing between them both, turning to the hybrid I said - please, Yoongi let me treat you okay?

He didn’t like when people crossed his boundaries i get that, sometimes it could be very overwhelming. But knowing what they are going to do to him because of that behavior, i just couldn’t help but get in between them. It was something we could work out and maybe if i succeed they won’t put him down anymore.

- it is important that you go through your shedding the easiest way possible - i tell him - so I’ll be in charge of it okay? How is that?

He looked at me for a while, slightly turning his head to the side. Pundering the idea in his head. For some reason he looked me up and down before looking at Namjoon behind me, a small smile making its way to his lips.

- only if is you - was all he said before going back to his bed.

A sight of relief leaving my lips, even though I cloud feel the stare of Namjoon a glare over my back.

…

To say Namjoon didn’t like that idea was an understatement. He hate it.

Insisting it was a bad idea to proceed with hybrid treatment by myself, that could be dangerous not only that but the fact that the hybrid had poison on his teeth just like a snake would. It wasn’t lethal but enough to cause discomfort, and it was what had happened the last time they tried to help with his shedding.

But that didn’t changed my mind. Not after I actually meet him, it seemed to me he didn’t want any one close that felt threatening to him. He wasn’t just any kind of hybrid, not a dog that loves attention and touch but a snake one. Snakes always acted out when feeling threatened. Attacking was their only defense.

So it made sense to me that he would be reluctant to let anyone get too close, especially after heaving so many tests on him without his consent. He’s been so mistreated and now they want to put him down.

It angers me.

I decided to chose an hour where i knew Namjoon would be busy in a meeting to do that. No long after we had left the hybrid room he began to lecture me on how dangerous Yoongi could be, that i shouldn’t act like that when he was the one in charge of this case. It slipped his mouth that the clinic simply started to give him vitamins when he stopped eating so he wouldn’t die.

It came to me how neglected he’s been this whole time. After that i decided to secretly go to the hybrid and feed him, which was where i was headed now.

I made sure no one was around once i stopped in front of the hybrid door. Using the number code I saw Namjoon used before to open the lock on it. It made a sound before opening.

The hot air hitting my face as I entered, they had turned higher this time it was hotter than before. The lights slowly began to light up as I walked in, the door closing behind me automatically.

At that the hybrid came up from his bed looking confused at me. Of course. I shouldn’t be there.

- hey - i greet him. He doesn’t say anything.

I walk up to him, stoping in front of the nest looking bed. A sing of his heat starting. That was a good sign. He held himself up with his arms looking my up from the bed.

- why are you here? - his voice was low and heavy.

- I just… - I trailed off as he fully lifted his body form his laying position, now sitting on his bed. Shirt open and sliding off his shoulders, not showing much but enough to see his scales.

He looked me over his lashes checks a bit red and sweat falling over the side of his face.

- i brought you something… - a sight left his lips - are you okay?

- yeah… what did you brought me? - his curious dark eyes following my body as I came closer.

- it’s tangerines - i say, showing him the two fruits i held in my hands.

- what’s a tangerine? - he asked eyeing them closer.

- you don’t know? - i gasped. Sitting beside him i slowly began to open one in a half giving it to him, he smelled before looking at me not knowing what to do.

- I never seen one… smells nice - he said.

- you eat it - i tell him, taking one and holding in front of his lips. He didn’t move at all, only looked at me.

For a moment I thought I had crossed his bounderies, for a moment I thought I was just being stupid. But then it came to me, he hasn’t eaten in years. He don’t even know what a tangerine is.

Maybe he didn’t even felt hunger anymore. Maybe he’ll throw the stupid fruit at me.

My checks were getting warmer as I felt nervous but, slowly he smelled the fruit in my hand taking a careful bite of it. Still looking at me, the juicy fruit spilling a bit in my fingers.

I watched him expectedly, wondering if he will like it or hated. He swallowed and looked at the fruit in my hand.

- that’s good… - he said. I sight of relief left my lips.

- you want more? - i asked him, he nodded slowly making me smile.

He didn’t move a single finger to eat though, I had to feed him the two tangerines the whole time. It didn’t bother me though, I felt so happy seeing him eat something other then taking those vitamins.

It means so much in the process of a hybrids treatment that they are feeding themselves, i couldn’t hold my happiness as I watched him.

Once he eat all of them he looked at me then at my hands, dark eyes shining under the light.

- sorry it was all I got - I tell him. - I’ll bring you more if you want.

- you will? - his eyes shining bright as he looked at me. I nodded at him.

- can i ask you… why you don’t eat? - i said, he doesn’t look at me turning to look at the floor.

- I don’t… feel like it… - he simply said.

He looked so sad now. No appetite wasn’t good. When in the absence of sickness it could only mean he was very depressed. They wanted to put him down because he was depressed.

I wouldn’t let them.

- You don’t seem to mind me around you… - I comment.

- you smell good. - he said, turning to look at me - and delicious, like tangerines.

I chuckled at his comparison. He watched me attentively, a different light on his dark eyes now.

- okay… I try my best to take care of you - i tell him. For a moment he only stares at me.

Red checks and bit of sweat on his chest, he turned his head to the side still raring at me. I fixed my glasses feeling a bit intimidated by his deep stare.

- You… - before he could end his sentence the door opened.

Namjoon entered the room looking at us confused, his eyes falling over my presence there. I shouldn’t be here. It’s what I read in his eyes.

- yn? - he asked, confusion clearly on his voice as he walked closer to where I was with the hybrid.

- Oh hey I was just… - i tried to make up an excuse but he cut me mid sentence.

- Leaving, right? - he interrupted. I swallowed nervous. He was never hard on me, hearing him be like that wasn’t nice.

- Yeah… - i murmured, taking the fruit peels with me as I got up from the hybrids bed.

- No… - Yoongi held my wrist stopping me, turned to look at him but he stared at Namjoon.

- You have an appointment with me now, it doesn’t include y/n so let her go… - for some reason Namjoons way of putting what he was doing there made me nervous.

I know he would never hurt a hybrid, but yoongi was very reluctant to any one else being too close to him. Namjoons display of dominance could make him defensive and things might not go well.

- maybe I could help - i tried to sound calm.

- y/n, your here to assist me not take over the procedures - Namjoon tells me, his words sending a sharp sting in my heart.

I couldn’t find words to reply his. Too embarrassed by his words to me in front of the hybrid, i bit into my lower lip. Not looking at them.

- Let her go yoongi - Namjoon said walking towards us.

At his words I realized Yoongi was now standing behind me, hand still around my wrist. His slow breathing hitting my shoulder. I lifted my gaze to Namjoon who now seemed a bit worried. But the hybrids closeness to me wants what made me uncomfortable.

- Yoongi… - Namjoon warned.

- Joon don’t - I tell him holding my hand up for him not to get closer - can you wait a bit?

He looked at me reluctant before nodding, still not taking his eyes off the hybrid. I turned to Yoongi slowly, a small smile on my lips as I stared into his deep dark orbs, to make sure he knew I was fine.

- Are you okay? - he asked me, I looked at him surprised. - he hurt you with his words.

I couldn’t hide my surprise at his words, he could tell from just that?

- It’s okay… I don’t care about his words - I whispered o him, giving him a small smile.

I tried to take my wrist from his hold but he didn’t let go, not to hard to hurt me. I could tell he was being careful not to use his full strength on me.

- Will you came back? - he asked, eyes looked into mine.

- Of course. - i tell him.

With that he let go of my wrist.

I turned to Namjoon taking his arm to leave the hybrid room. He reluctantly fallowed me towards the door of the room. Once we were both outside I kept my hold on his arm taking him with me around the corridor towards the elevators.

- where you taking me? - he asked, as if nothing had happened earlier.

- To Seokjin, we need to have a talk - i tell him, anger boiled over me.

- We? - he pushed his arm out of my grip - You’re being the irresponsible one not me!

- I’m!? - I stopped in the middle of the corridor, turning to him anger building up through my body.

- Yes! - he stated, closer to me - Do I need to remind you of your position here?

- Do I need to remind you of your stupid ego standing between the safety of a hybrid and your pride?! - i yell at him.

At that he went quiet.

- were talking with Seokjin now. - i state - I won’t let you make this whole processe more difficult than it has to be just because of your pride.

I held his arm again, taking him with me to the elevators. He didn’t say anything else anymore, I could tell he was angry but so was I.

The whole time he was only stating dominance over Yoongi, I was tired of them all thinking that could just hurt the hybrid even more now just because she was going to be put down.

I wouldn’t let them.

The walk to Seokjins office was quiet except for the tense energy around us, once I stood in front of his door I don’t bother to nock. Entering with anger burning under my skin.

Seokjin gave me a curious look, as he was folding some paper on his desk.

- sorry Jin - i say. He looked at me and Namjoon a questioned look on his face. - we need to talk about Yoongi.

- oh, right - he says - what is it?

- She’s being… - Namjoon started, but I interrupted him.

- Yoongi has been showing clear signs of discomfort with male doctors - at that Namjoon scoffed, I looked at him angry turning my gaze to Jin as I continued - he say he will do the appointments as long as I’m the one closer to him.

- I see.. - Jin thinks for a moment before continuing - what’s the problem?

- Namjoon is not letting me - i tell him, arms crossed over my chest.

-She just went into his room without any one knowing and… - Namjoon began.

- And gave him food - i say, looking at him. We both shared a look of hatred before Jin interrupted.

- What? - Jin asked.

- He eat… - I tell him.

- He… he eat food? - they both looked at me surprise.

- Yes, I’m sure I can help a lot more with this case if you let me take charge of the procedures that involves more… closeness to him, he’s been through a lot and seemed more calm around me.

- I see… - Jin pondered the idea first - then as long as you’re not alone for safety reasons, I don’t see a problem with you taking charge of his appointments.

- But she’s.. - Namjoon says, but is cut by Jin.

- Namjoon, y/n has been taking care of hybrids for years she knows what she’s doing, please I need you both working on this together - Jin says, sounding tired.

Namjoon only nods.

- any updates about him? - jin asked.

- i can tell that his heat i starting - I say - his behavior at least shows me that.

- okay… we’ll than we are almost there - Jin says - keep that good work and please, do this together.

- thanks jin - i tell him, he gives me a nod and i make my way to leave the office.

Namjoon stayed behind. I didn’t payed much mind to it. Quickly making my way out of there walking to the elevators, I had a lot of work to do other than Yoongi case.

More patients that needed treatment just as badly, not the he wasn’t just as special to me.

…..

It was late at night again.

I wasn’t planning to staying late again but, a hybrid was just checked in after being attacked by a another wild hybrid. The same case has happened before, that is way wild hybrids where never up for adoption. Yet some people always manage to get them, usually never for good reasons.

The poor hybrid this time was a bunny one, I was surprised when I first saw him. Usually bunny hybrids where the smallest species to exist but, this one was big. Not too tall but very muscular and strong.

When he was checked in he was still in defense mode, attacking every one and very scared. They had to apply a sedative on him to finally be able to put him on his room.

You could guess my reaction after I was told the story and short after that, Hoseok told me I was the one in charge of his case.

My shift ended hours ago and yet here I was cleaning cuts on the face of a bunny hybrid who seemed to know nothing about shutting up.

- such a pretty doctor I have.. - he said, a smile on his lips as he looked at me.

- Jungkook stop talking I’m trying to apply the med on your lip… - i tell him for the fifth time already, he only chuckled.

I sight taking a clean cotton with med to clean the cut over his eyebrow, he was sitting over his bed as I stood between his legs to clean his bruises.

He shouldn’t be awake. He was sedated before but, no long after he was wide awake and talking none stop, he commented on my but and how lucky he was to be treated by me.

I only sighted. That was knew. Usually my patients where too scared to be treated at first. So I just brushed off his comments.

Jungkook was abandoned when younger by his last owner, he then grow up in an underground fighting club where clandestine fights were held. He told me he was the best one there, a lot of people bet on him at the fights until he got in trouble with this one wolf hybrid.

- how did you end up here again? - I asked him.

- I was… - his checks went red and he looked down - to be honest I’m still.. ah, I was in heat…

- oh.. - I looked at him, still no understanding. He was shy, ears dropping beside his head.

- I was trading to mate but… so was the wolf… - he said.

- but you’re…

- she wasn’t like me… - he tells me, realizing what he meant I felt a warm wave up my checks.

Different species trying to mate, that was the first time I heard that, the underground has a lot going on than.

- well… it could happen - I say, making sure I cleaned every bruise on his face - here in the clinic we help our hybrids with all their needs, so don’t worry.

- oh.. will you treat me than doctor? - he asked, amused.

- yes, you’re my patient - i tell him, taking his file to prescribe him his medication and future exams.

- humm… - he only murmured - doctor are you in heat?

His question gets me by surprise and I look at him, mouth opening and closing. Just what was going on now? Did he perhaps hit his head too?

At my expression he chuckled one arm closing around my waist as he pulled me closer to him, I gasped feeling his nose against my neck. Not knowing what to do I held my hand up in the air, too afraid to even touch him. The smallest reaction could start something I wasn’t intending to.

- I can smell in you… - he says over my ear, my checks burning hot - hum, ready to be filled…

At his words i tried to push him, hands over his chest only to find his eyes staring deep into mine his checks where red and pupils full. It hit me. He was still on his heat.

That explains his behavior the whole time. How could I not notice earlier?

- you’re still in heat - i state. He only chuckled.

- am i? - he came closer to kiss me but i immediately pushed him down the bed - oh, I like that… doctor you’re making me fall for you…

I ignore his nonsense as I made my way to grab a sedative, bunnies were the hardest ones to deal with when on their heat, first I would have to put him to sleep before giving him the medicine to lessen his heat. At least till we are done with his treatment. Then we would put him to mate the right way.

Coming back to him I stared at him think where I would apply it, he didn’t stop moving. I stood between his legs holding the sedative behind my back.

- Jungkook… - i tried to get his attention, he looked at me immediately- I need to do something for me okay?

- yes pretty doctor- he tried to get up but I quickly held his chest down, he smiled at me. He looked as if he were on drugs, high on his heat.

It could only mean things were getting worse, he wasn’t on full rut but was getting there. It would be impossible to treat him if he’s on rut.

- don’t move okay? - i tell him, his hand held mine over his chest as he nodded.

Without him noticing i insert the syringe into his thigh, he’s so into his heat to even notice the pain.

I count ten seconds in my head before releasing my hold over his chest, he doesn’t try to get up.

- oh I’m sleepy… - he says, hand falling from mine as he closes his eyes slowly going into deep sleep.

A sight of relief leaves my lips once he falls asleep. I prepare some medicine to calm his heat, I wasn’t a fan of suppressants but in this case is needed. Just until we are done treating him. Than I’m sure he will be put into mating process so he can have a safe and healthy heat.

After I’m done giving him his medicine, I write it down his next appointment and a new prescription.

Leaving the room I sight, my right hand massaging my neck. I look over my phone to see the time realizing it was way past eleven. Walking down the corridor to the elevators, my ringtone woke me up from daydreaming about my comfort bed.

- yes - o took the call.

- hey y/n - it was Jin - did you check on the special hybrid?

- wasn’t Joon going? - I said, confused at his words. He told me he would.

- no he head an emergency at home and had to leave - Jin explained, I sight.

- oh, i will than - i tell him.

- you seem tired y/n do you want me to go instead? - he offers.

- no is fine… - i tell him - he die a know you yet, it could make things difficult.

- okay - Jin says - call me if anything happens.

- I will, thank you.

I turn off the call, getting in the elevator. I push the bottom to the floor of the special hybrids where. My eyes feeling a bit heavier, I tried to push it away. Just one last check up and I can go home.

The elevators doors opened at the floor, the sound waking me up from my tiredness. I quickly made my way through the long corridor with doors to Yoongis room.

Pressing the code on the lock beside the door, it opens making a sound. The hot wave of air hitting my body as usual once i made my way in, the lights slowly turning back on.

Once they’re on I made my way to his bed, panicked at not seeing him there or any sing of him at all.

- Yoongi? - i call out his name, locking around the room but still no sight of him.

My heart begins to beat faster, as my mind runs different scenarios of what might have happened. Worry filling my body as I throw the papers i gel in my hand on the floor, taking my cellphone to call Jin as I turn to leave the room.

Still with eyes locked on my phone i don’t notice the lights slowly turning off, nothing takes my attention from the cellphone until arms close over my wrist turning my around.

My phone falling on the ground as he pushed me against the wall, both hands holding my wrists over the wall above my head.

- Yoongi?! - I stared into his dark orbs, relief filling me up. - I thought something happened to you…

He didn’t said anything. A hard look over his features, I couldn’t decipher what it meant. He held me tighter coming closer to my face.

- why do you smell like trash? - he spat.

- what? - I was so lost.

I knew I worked late but, is not like didn’t look out for myself. Working at the clinic I had to make sure I was always clean. I couldn’t understand what he meant.

- you stink of male rut… - he spat at me, hissing at the end. Eyebrows furred into an angry expression.

I should’ve thought about that before coming here stray after treating a hybrid on heat, shit. Knowing how Yoongi was sensitive about others males I should’ve at least put on some perfume.

- it’s not like that… - i tried to lessen his anger but it only seemed to make it worse.

- I don’t care… - he pushed himself away from me - don’t ever come back here smelling like that again…

- I won’t - i tell him, still not moving I watched as he walks back to his bed. - im sorry, I didn’t have time to… wash this off.

He doesn’t say anything, sitting on ver his bed he looks at me from afar.

- tomorrow will start your shedding treatment… - i tell him, still not moving from my spot.

At the smell of another male it was better did I kept my distance so it wouldn’t be too overwhelming for him who had a much higher sense.

- i just came to check on you, to make sure…

- come here - he interrupted, he voice sounded heavy almost a growl.

I would be lying if a said I wasn’t afraid, my phone was lost somewhere in this room and I had no way of calling for help if something happened. Although I knew he wouldn’t do something to hurt me i couldn’t be sure, the situation was a lot different now.

I could say something but, his instincts would say another complete different than mine.

Still I made my way towards him. Stopping a few steps away from him.

- closer… - he sighted. Dark eyes looking me up and down.

I gulped down, making my way closer to him. Stopping in front of him.

He looked up at me boxers getting up from the bed, close enough to kill me if he wanted to.

- was it a patient of yours? - he asked, voice low and raspy. He meant the smell.

- yes… - i manage to whisper, I felt so small in front of him. Like a pray.

- you’ll see him again? - he asked, taking a step closer. No distance between us. His breath hitting my face.

- yes… - i tell him, my eyes finally looking up at his.

He only nodded understanding.

- I don’t like this smell on you - i says, making me gulp down as i looking into his eyes. - but i understand…

He pushes me against him it happens so fast, once I notice he is pressing me down on his bed. Both his legs on each side of my hips, he held my arms up against the nest of covers and sheets.

Keeping them up he slides his hands down my arms over my sides, one finger playing with the bottoms of my shirt.

- you look healthy… - he murmurs eyeing me up and down.

- what…

He didn’t let me finish. Opening my shirt he went down over my chest, I gasped in surprise. Turning my face to the side, I expected anything except what he did.

I slowly opened my eyes at the feeling of his hot breath over my neck, my own breath got stuck in my throat the moment I felt the wetness of his tongue sliding over my chest up my neck.

- what are you doing? - I asked, my voice was only a whisper.

- taking that disgusting smell off you - he said over my neck.

- oh…

- but you’ll see him again… - he said, I turned to look at him.

- I have to, his my patient - i explained.

- than this won’t do… - he whispered more to himself, one hand holding my chin up he slowly turned my face to the side.

With my neck on full display for him he came closer, this time whispering over my ear.

- have you ever been bitten by a snake?

At his question my mind rushed with realization, my heart beating faster as his lips brushed over my skin. I tried to move my legs but he only used his body weight to held me down, my hands over his shoulders trying to push him away were quickly held up over my head with his left hand.

He chuckled at my useless try’s to get away from him.

A gasp leaving my lips immediately at the feeling of his sharp teeth carving my skin, tears filling my eyes at the painful sensation of his teeth inserting his venom on me. His hands slowly leaving his hold over me, i couldn’t move.

Once he took his teeth out of my skin, I groaned in pain. Feeling the warm liquid fall down my neck, he licked over the bite. Hand holding my chin to look at him.

- don’t worry… it will feel good soon - I looked up at him, his voice was a whisper in the dark.

My mind felt dizzy, vision getting blurry the heat of the room wasn’t helpful. My whole busy was burning, I tried to push him away but as soon as my hands came in touch with the silk over his skin my entire body responded, a wave of electicity coming up from the tips of my fingers to my whole body.

- Yoongi…

My eyes began to get heavier and heavier, hands falling beside me as I fell asleep.

Not before I felt his warm finger trace my jaw softly, his voice so far away I couldn’t make out what he said before I fall completely asleep.

Am i dying?

Next?

Notes: YES FINALLY!! Hehe I’m sorry for any grammatical typos! ☺️💖

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pretzel-box · 3 months ago

Text

PROLOGUE: WELCOME TO URBANSHADE

Word count: 3,3k

Tags: GN!reader, Graphic mention of surgery and experiments on a human body

Summary: You get hired by Urbanshade, thanks to your father, but every start has its obstacles. And some obstacles might feel deeper than they should be.

The time on the wall clock showed it was just a few minutes past noon. Warm sunlight gently crept into the waiting room through the tall panoramic windows of the building. A quick glance to the side, catching a glimpse of the clock, was enough to tell you that it would still be a few moments before it was time to move from the comfort of the leather chair you were currently sitting on. Your freshly disinfected hands clung nervously to your phone as you swiftly scrolled through the list of contacts you had saved over time. You were so focused that it startled you slightly when another caller ID popped up on the bright screen, displaying the picture of your father's face.

This particular man had called you a lot lately, sticking his nose into your business after you dared to ask him for a tiny favor, hoping he would help since you are his beloved only child. But one thing you didn't expect from him at that specific moment was that he would take the opportunity to call you, considering that he was somewhere on the ocean.

He works as a high-class businessman, primarily sponsoring a company called Urbanshade. You didn't know much about them, but your dad mentioned something about how they specialize in underwater mining with some high-tech inventions. This explained his temporary stay on one of Urbanshade's ships, where they were testing and showcasing another new underwater mining robot of some sort, called Trenchbleeder. Your dad had funded the whole project over the past few months, so he was more than excited to see how his money was being put to good use.

"Did they call you yet?" Despite the slight static, the seagulls, and the waves in the background, you could make out the strict tone in his voice. Of course, he was curious. You had asked your dad if he knew someone who would hire you, his child. And naturally, the first thing he applied you for was a position at one of Urbanshade's research facilities. They weren't really looking for new employees in the first place, but your dad was very close to the higher-ups, so he bought the job for you. The fact that he paid the company to hire you made your stomach twist in discomfort, but it was too late to turn back and say no. "I risked a lot by doing that for you."

He referred to the payment he had made on your behalf, and you could feel the pressure he had placed on your shoulders.

You nodded, even though your dad couldn't see it over the phone. "I'm at their building, sitting in the waiting room. We're signing the contract today." You tried to sound confident, but you knew your dad could see right through your facade. "They should be calling me into the office soon."

Your name was called loudly through the room before your dad could reply, and he would probably have given you another warning not to mess it up for his reputation's sake. "Sorry, Dad, it's time."

You ended the call with a swift push of the red button, putting your phone on mute so nothing would distract you during the meeting with one of the higher-ups at Urbanshade. The lady at the reception told you where to go, and another employee guided you to a glass room, where a middle-aged man in an expensive-looking suit was seated. His arms were crossed, and the way he scanned your application papers made your stomach turn.

The man must have noticed your little stare from the other side of the glass wall because he looked up from the file, and it wasn't hard to miss the coy smile on his lips. The previous expression on his face was quickly replaced with a more welcoming one. "Ah, we finally meet. Your father has already told me a good deal about you."

"I am grateful for the opportunity to work for your company, Mr. Wiltshire." First impressions count, especially at a company like Urbanshade. So you took the opportunity to present yourself in the best possible light, even if it meant pretending to be something you're not—in this case, motivated and interested. Your hand almost raised itself to offer a polite and respectful handshake.

"I assure you, we are the ones who are honored to welcome you to our team. Welcome to Urbanshade."

A few months passed after Urbanshade recruited you, and it didn't take long for you to get the hang of all the small details involved in your job at the luxurious office—details like how the overpriced coffee machine worked, how to sort the endless stacks of paper files, and even how to avoid getting on your new boss's bad side. At this point, you'd even admit it feels like being a well-paid version of an intern since your higher-ups only trusted you with minor tasks so far.

Despite the simplicity and comfort of the tasks, you volunteered more than once for harder assignments, showing your most motivated side in the hope of getting a little more action in your otherwise boring life. But every single time, Mr. Wiltshire blocked you off with a polite smile and a shake of his head. "You're not ready yet."

It was frustrating; you felt there was more behind it than just a lack of skills, but you couldn't force your way into the deeper levels of the job without risking ruining it all for yourself.

A high-pitched female voice suddenly pulled you out of your regular daydreams, making you aware that you were indeed not alone at the moment. "Ah, look who's here!" Your black-haired co-worker beamed at you with the fakest smile you had ever seen, making you raise your eyebrow slightly. The action didn't go unnoticed by her, and you could feel her sharp acrylic nails digging uncomfortably into your left shoulder. "Be a sweetheart," she started again, leaning in from behind and speaking directly into your ear, "and take care of my files too, alright?" She no longer tried to hide her snarky tone and instead showed you her true nasty attitude. "We don't want Mr. Wiltshire to see how much you slack off at work, right, hon?" The pain slowly disappeared as she lifted her hand from your shoulder, wiping it off on her expensive business blazer. A glance over your shoulder to meet her gaze was enough.

Her smug smile hit a nerve deep inside you, but you swallowed your newfound anger like the smarter person and just nodded without a word. In the end, it wasn't worth the drama, and maybe you could use the opportunity to score some extra credit points with your boss if he saw you doing some well-executed extra work.

The fake woman left the moment you tried to open your mouth to give her a straightforward answer, leaving you behind like some worthless object in the middle of the office. By this point, it wasn't really offensive to you since you strongly disliked that woman for her weird attitude toward you, and every second without her was surely a good second. After watching her leave and get into the elevator at the end of the hall, you turned around too and slowly made your way to the coffee machine in the plain break room, pouring yourself a nice cup of dark liquid into your favorite mug. You would surely need it if you had to put in some extra hours to get the work done. With newfound motivation, you left the room and headed to your co-worker's personal office.

It was a neat space inside a glass room, furnished with minimalist-style furniture and a nice office chair made of quality leather. Some of the woman's personal items were scattered across the mahogany table, and your lips curled up as you felt the smooth surface of the table, thinking you could earn one of those fancy offices yourself if you worked hard enough.

Then you saw the stack of brown files on the table. It was in an unacceptable, messy state, with paper corners sticking out from all sides and some mysterious stains on the front covers. Yet, the weirdly pleasant smell of cigarettes and old paper hit your nose, filling you with a strange, comforting feeling all over again. Your eyes also didn't fail to notice the bright yellow note on the stack, with a hastily written message in black ink:

"Please sort by Thursday night. Return Z-13 file to higher-up when done."

Reading it gave you a sudden boost of excitement, seeing that there must be an interesting file usually in the hands of higher-ranked people. You didn't question it but rather saw it as an opportunity to dive deeper into the business that Urbanshade conducts, sensing a way to escape the boring intern tasks and join them on the front lines, maybe even leading a mining operation in the exciting underwater world.

Your hands took the small note from the files, discarding it without a care into the bin, assuming your co-worker was aware of it since she knew about the work the files required. It was another simple job of sorting papers and making sure everything was in its place before returning them to the basement archives below the building.

The warm, rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee replaced the smell in the small office as you took a careful sip from your favorite mug. The dark liquid was the only thing keeping you grounded amidst the tension of the day. Your fingers traced the rim of the warm cup absentmindedly as you scanned the chaotic stack of files on the mahogany desk.

Determined to make a good impression by sorting through the files with precision, you placed your mug at the edge of the desk, within easy reach. You started to carefully separate the documents, making piles according to their categories, when your mind began to wander.

You reached for another file, but just as you were about to grab it, your elbow knocked against your mug. Time seemed to slow as you watched in horror as the mug tipped over, spilling hot coffee across the desk. The dark liquid cascaded like a wave, soaking the neatly sorted papers in seconds.

"No, no, no!" you gasped, frantically grabbing at the files, trying to salvage what you could. But it was too late—the coffee had already seeped into most of the pages, leaving large brown stains that spread and blurred the ink in matter of seconds. The once crisp documents were now soggy and wrinkled, some of the text smearing into an illegible mess.

Your heart pounded as you stared at the ruined files. A wave of panic surged through you. These weren’t just any papers; they were official documents, meant to be returned to the higher-ups. And that one file—about something called Z-13—it was supposed to go directly to someone important. You remembered the note and its simple instructions, now crumpled in the waste bin, and felt a sinking dread.

Grabbing a handful of napkins from the small break room drawer, you desperately tried to blot the coffee from the papers, but the evidence of your mistake would be painfully clear, no matter how hard you tried to save the files. The edges of some files were curling up, the ink bleeding out, and some of the pages were beyond saving. The more you wiped, the worse it seemed to get.

You slumped into the leather chair, your hands trembling as you stared at the coffee-stained disaster in front of you. What would Mr. Wiltshire say? Worse, what would your father think if he found out? The pressure to prove yourself, to show that you were capable of handling the job, suddenly felt crushing.

With a deep breath, you tried to calm your racing thoughts. There had to be a way to fix this. Maybe you could reprint the damaged documents, or perhaps there were backups somewhere in the archives. You needed a plan, and fast. But first, you had to get rid of the evidence of your mistake—before anyone saw the mess you had made.

Forcing yourself to think clearly, you carefully gathered the soaked files, praying that you could come up with a solution before anyone found out about the spill. And then you saw it, the important file with big red letters on the cover, slightly drenched in warm coffee. The damage seemed to be at a visible minimum, making you slightly relax despite all the panic in your body.

Your finger traced over the paper cover before picking the file up from the messy table. It was slightly heavy, and as you felt the weight of the file in your hands, a ripple of curiosity surged through you. You hesitated for a moment, wondering what kind of secrets might be concealed within these pages. But the urge to know won out, and you carefully opened the front cover, revealing a neatly typed summary that seemed to offer a glimpse into the contents of the file.

The first thing that caught your eye was a series of police reports, meticulously detailed and organized, each one stamped with the official seal of Urbanshade. They were followed by a set of photographs, their glossy surfaces reflecting the dim light of the room. The first image you saw was a clear mugshot of a young man. His face was striking, not in the sense of beauty, but in the way it conveyed a deep weariness, as if the weight of the world had been pressing down on him for far too long. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, and they censored his eyes, leaving them to your imagination.

His expression was a frown in each of the photos, a look of quiet defiance mixed with something else—something that sent a strange sensation through your chest. It wasn’t pity, exactly, but a deep unease that you couldn’t quite place. There was a coldness in his expression, yet also a flicker of something more, something human and raw, buried beneath the layers of exhaustion and anger.

You turned the page, your fingers brushing over the edges of the police reports that followed. The papers were old, some of them yellowing with age, but the text was still clear. Your eyes skimmed the lines, taking in the grim details of a murder case that had been closed years ago. The words felt heavy, each sentence a stark reminder of the horror that had unfolded.

The reports detailed a series of brutal killings—nine victims in total. The descriptions were uncensored, each one more gruesome than the last. As you read, a chill ran down your spine. The level of violence, the cold, methodical nature of the crimes, it all painted a picture of someone deeply disturbed, someone with a darkness that ran far deeper than you could have imagined.

And there, at the center of it all, was the young man from the photos. His name was typed in bold letters at the top of the report: Sebastian Solace. The name seemed almost ironic—“Solace” suggesting peace or comfort, while the man it belonged to was associated with such unspeakable acts.

You stared at the name for a long moment, trying to reconcile the tired, defiant face in the photos with the monstrous deeds described in the reports. The file mentioned psychological evaluations, interviews, and even some speculation about his motives, but none of it seemed to add up. There was a note in the margin, scrawled in a hurried hand, suggesting that the case was far from closed, despite what the official records stated.

A photo paperclipped to the back of the file caught your attention—a grainy image of a dark, empty room. The caption underneath simply read, „Day of Execution“ The picture showed the electric chair that they used in Solace his execution, but any sign of his presence was missing in it.

Then you turned the pages and the police reports changed into a large series of lab reports, endless lists of medication and a collection of pictures that left you in a nauseous state.

You read and read for what felt like hours, your eyes moving mechanically over the pages as the horrors of Sebastian Solace's life unfolded before you. Each detail seemed more grotesque than the last, painting a picture of a man who had been systematically stripped of his humanity. It wasn’t just the surgeries—those brutal, invasive operations where limbs were removed and reattached like parts of a machine. It was the utter disregard for the person he once was, the complete and total annihilation of his identity, his very soul.

The deeper you delved into the file, the more your hands began to tremble. You could feel your stomach churning as you flipped through page after page of graphic images and cold, clinical reports. The pictures were the worst—high-resolution photographs of Sebastian’s disfigured body, his skin pale and sickly under the harsh fluorescent lights of a laboratory. There were stitches crisscrossing his limbs, metal tools embedded in his flesh like cruel mockeries of life-saving instruments. His eyes—those once defiant, tired eyes—were vacant now, lifeless, as though the man he had once been was already dead.

Your breath hitched as you turned to a page detailing an experiment labeled "Procedure 17-C." The accompanying photograph showed a close-up of Sebastian's chest, where wires and tubes had been inserted into his heart, his blood replaced with a thick, unnatural fluid. The caption beneath it coldly described the experiment’s purpose—to test the viability of synthetic blood in deep-sea environments. The thought of what he had endured, of how much pain and suffering had been inflicted upon him in the name of science, made your vision blur with tears.

You forced yourself to continue reading, even as nausea clawed at your throat. The reports became increasingly more deranged, describing how Sebastian’s body had been treated like a puzzle, dismantled and reassembled in ways that defied all logic and ethics. The word "specimen" appeared frequently, a stark reminder that to his captors, Sebastian was nothing more than a test subject, an object to be used and discarded.

It was around page 35 that you couldn’t take it anymore. You shoved the file aside and staggered to the bin next to you, emptying the contents of your stomach. The bile burned your throat, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the anguish in your heart. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, trying to steady your breathing, but the images lingered in your mind, imprinted there like a brand.

Sebastian Solace—the name now felt like a curse, a grim reminder of the horrors that could befall anyone who crossed paths with Urbanshade. And the Hadal Blackside... it was no longer just a place. It was a living nightmare, a twisted abyss where humanity was stripped away,

The weight of the file in your hands felt unbearable as you reluctantly picked it up again, your fingers trembling as you closed the cover. The secrets contained within were like a lead weight on your soul, pressing down on you with an intensity that made it hard to breathe. When you finally set the file back on the table, it was as though you were laying down a burden too great for any one person to bear.

But even as you tried to distance yourself from what you had just read, the haunted eyes of Sebastian Solace refused to leave you. They stayed with you, those hollow, lifeless eyes, staring back at you from the depths of your memory. They were a reminder that in the Hadal Blackside, there were things far more terrifying than the dark waters and the lurking creatures within. There might were men—once human, now monsters—who had been twisted by the same forces that now ensnared you.

You were tangled in their web now, caught in a nightmare from which there was no waking. And as you sat there, in the dim light of that office room, you realized that the true horror wasn’t what had been done to Sebastian. It was the knowledge that, in time, the same fate could await you, if someone found out what you saw.

#sebastian solace x reader #sebastian solace x you #sebastian solace #sebastian solace fanfiction #AsAboveSoBelow #sebastian solace fanfic #sebastian solace x gender neutral reader

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weaselandfriends · 7 days ago

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The Making Of: When I Win the World Ends

(For my previous Making Of post, see The Making Of: Cleveland Quixotic.)

I. 1999

It was the year of the cubicle movie. It was the year of Fight Club, of Office Space, of Being John Malkovich, of Three Kings, of The Matrix, and of American Beauty. It was the year of suburban malaise, of eternal sunshine, of ceaseless normality. A year of United States hegemony; a year whose chief terror was that THIS WAS IT.

Before the millennium turned and the towers fell, there was an initial challenge to this order, a completely inconsequential one made consequential by a newly minted 24/7 news media machine running out of noise to fill dead air now that people were sick to bursting of the Clinton impeachment. This challenge came not through war, revolution, or violence, but through entertainment. Children's entertainment.

And I was a child. Unaware of any cultural context, I knew only one thing: I loved Pokémon. I really, really loved Pokémon.

I owned Red Version, Blue Version, Yellow Version, Pokémon Pinball, Pokémon Stadium, Pokémon Snap, Hey You Pikachu, a Pokémon Tetris sort of puzzle game, even the Pokémon TCG game for Gameboy. I had ten to fifteen strategy guides for the games, an encyclopedia of the 151 Pokémon, a choose your own adventure book, an I Spy-style book. I had Pokémon figurines, Pokémon plushies, toy Poké Balls, toy Pokédexes. I had Pokémon stamps and Pokémon stickers and a deck of Pokémon cards. Not trading cards, just a standard 52-card deck with Pokémon pictures on it. Of course I also had the trading cards. A complete set of the first three runs, plus a special Mew card you could get from I dunno Toys R Us or something as part of some promotion. I had a guide for the card game that explained which cards were good or bad even though I didn't even play the card game. I had a Pokémon Tamagotchi and Pokémon pencils and Pokémon erasers and Ash Ketchum's hat and I dressed up as Ash Ketchum for Halloween. Of course I watched every episode of the anime, and in notebooks I drew doodles of existing Pokémon and came up with names for new Pokémon. My father had died that year.

My father was a sports fanatic. Traditional sports. He, too, collected. Sports memorabilia, baseball cards, figures of famous stars. When I was an infant, he drove me on a cross country road trip to Lambeau Field in Green Bay, Wisconsin, where I became a part owner of the Green Bay Packers. He had always wanted me to grow up and pursue professional sports. When I was born, the doctor apparently said to start looking for football colleges, a quote he saved in a scrapbook of baby photos. He had played sports himself, in college; he was a baseball catcher, until a hitter accidentally struck him in the head with a full force swing.

Almost everything I personally remember about him involves him dying. He was sick for a long time, and I remember hospitals and hospital beds and strange smells and gauze. And then one day my mother told me he died.

He was a charismatic man, very social and very popular. He had many friends and a lot of family, all of whom had constantly been around our house. Once he was gone, they stopped coming around. Then it was just me and my mother, who was not a fanatic for anything, except maybe her job as an elementary school teacher, which consumed her time as she assiduously prepared lesson plans and graded tests until late at night. When my father died, she got into some argument with his side of the family, the details of which I still don't fully understand, and afterward they no longer spoke. Her own family lived far away, out-of-state, seen only at Christmas. The house became quiet.

And I… played… Pokémon.

II. The Electric Tale of Pikachu

Toshihiro Ono was a mangaka primarily known for shotacon and futanari hentai. His credits such as Innyou Megami and Anal Justice made him a no-brainer pick for the officially licensed Pokémon manga, Electric Tale of Pikachu, as it too would feature a 10-year-old boy as the protagonist.

This manga would be the foundation for my conception of what Pokémon was, narratively. Though I also had the Pokémon Adventures manga that ran concurrently and which has by now long outlasted it, Electric Tale left a significantly deeper imprint on my memory.

In summary, Electric Tale is a retelling of the first two seasons of the anime. Ash Ketchum is the main character, he's accompanied by Misty and later Brock, his rival is Gary, and Team Rocket harangues him.

What sets Electric Tale apart is its tone, which is far more adult than Adventures and the anime. Obviously, part of this comes from the author's primary area of expertise being hentai. Even in the censored English version, there is a sense of sexual playfulness in how every single female character is an older woman who likes to tease Ash about his romantic interests.

But there are other elements that creep in unrelated to sex, due to the perspective of someone only used to speaking to adults who suddenly has to speak to children. Ono doesn't really get the childish fantasy of leaving at 10 being normal in society, so he introduces an element where Ash can only get a one year deferment from school and will have to return unless he hits it big. Team Rocket are former competitive hopefuls who flamed out and then, with no education or work experience to speak of, had no choice but to turn to crime. The Pokémon are depicted more realistically, often eschewing the toyetic mascot elements of their designs.

And the landscapes are often wistful, even apocalyptic in their presentation:

This more sedate, mature, realistic depiction of Pokémon became what I wanted Pokémon to be, what I projected onto an original Red and Blue version that left everything open to interpretation, and what would increasingly frustrate me with the series as it deviated more toward bombastic villain groups with goofy destroy-the-world plots. (Which was what put me off Pokémon Adventures.)

Amid all this, one panel stuck with me in particular. One panel I would think about ever since I first saw it as a child, that would turn around in my head and keep coming back. That panel would eventually—over two decades later—become the basis for When I Win the World Ends, the seed from which an entire story grew:

III. The Unkillable Demon King

But in the interim, the seed remained dormant. 1999 fell away. I grew up. I played later Pokémon games and increasingly lost interest by around Gen 4 and 5. Then I went to college.

That's when I started playing League of Legends.

I was something of a psychopath in college. I operated on a strict schedule and did not deviate. Wake up, read 50 pages of classic literature, write 2,000 words, go to classes, study, and then by about four in the afternoon all my obligations were done and it was League of Legends until midnight.

I wasn't actually interested in the League of Legends esports scene in its infancy. In 2012, I was actually invited to attend its World Championship in Los Angeles and refused. (When I received this invitation, I had just finished reading Homestuck for the first time, and was caught in a month-long haze in which I could do little but bask within what I considered the greatest artistic achievement I'd seen in my life. It was this month that inspired Modern Cannibals.) I only liked playing the game and watching Dunkey videos.

It wasn't until the next year, when a girl I was interested in recommended I watch, that I tuned in to my first professional League of Legends game, at the 2013 World Championship. It was there that I got to watch this new, hyped, upcoming Korean player who had apparently taken the pro scene by storm that season. That player was Faker.

It has seemingly become essential to the narrative of any sport that there is "the man who always wins." American football has Tom Brady, and the moment Brady retired, he was replaced by Patrick Mahomes. Basketball has LeBron James, picking up the mantle from Michael Jordan. It's as if someone being "the best" validates the skill-based promise of the sport, the fundamental top-down fairness of its premise, the idea that the person who wins is the best and deserved it. Faker would become the backbone of League of Legends esports and his ascendance correlated to that of the sport itself, from its humble roots at small-scale tournaments in places like Jönköping, Sweden, to max capacity arenas in the biggest cities in the world.

It's surprising, though, how the legend of Faker had already begun even before he won his first World Championship. League of Legends was designed as a clone of Defense of the Ancients (DotA), a popular mod for Warcraft III that emphasized competitive play. In its infancy, the competitive scene was mostly dominated by players who had migrated from DotA to League. They were older, winning thanks to a fundamental conceptual understanding of the game that was superior to everyone else, and frankly not very good in the aggregate. As League of Legends esports exploded in popularity from 2013 to 2015, these old pros would get filtered out swiftly, with even the biggest and most popular names retiring after only a couple of years in the scene.

Even once the new generation of League-grown talent ascended, though, careers were nasty, brutish, and short. The best players only remained on top for a season, as game patches dramatically changed viable strategies. Internationally the sport was dominated by Koreans, with the Korean regional league sometimes being seen as more difficult to win than the World Championship, where Koreans often breezed through uncompetitive Chinese, European, and North American squads.

This possibly affected the demographics of the professional scene. South Korea has mandatory military service, and leaving the pro scene to join the military was basically the end of a Korean player's career. This meant that it was rare to see a Korean player older than 25. Retiring in your early 20s was and remains common. Korean organizations, which had an infrastructural leg up on other regions due to the popularity of StarCraft 2 esports in the country, became adept at scouting promising players at 15 or 16, building them into top level competitive pros, wringing them dry for a few seasons with brutal training regimens, and spitting them out.

Faker was the exception. Though he had been discovered young by SK Telecom, a major Korean telecommunications company that did esports on the side, and gone through the training regimen, he refused to be spit out. He simply didn't stop. He won in 2013, then with a completely new four-man squad around him won again in 2015 and 2016 before narrowly losing the 2017 finals in a nail biter. Given League of Legends esports had only existed since 2011, he basically accounted for half of the championships up until that point. Nobody else, except for his teammates, had won more than once. And it was like it was known he would be this juggernaut the instant he manifested ex nihilo. Like it was known, even in 2013, that he would always win.

Then, Faker stopped winning.

By 2017, League of Legends esports was a titan. Venture capital firms, seeing the millions of eyeballs, thought that this was the next NBA in its infancy, and decided to get in on the ground floor. Multiple millions of dollars were pumped into the scene as even mediocre players in weak regions like North America pulled seven-digit salaries. In China, where League of Legends had become the national pastime, the nation's richest oligarchs ran teams for fun and vanity, outbidding Korean organizations for top Korean players in pursuit of a trophy that had gone to Korea every year since 2013. Riot, the studio developing the game, pumped tons of money into creating a professional sports product, with skilled announcers, dedicated arenas for regional leagues, live performances by musicians like Imagine Dragons and Lil Nas X, and all the other bells and whistles one might expect from a program watched on ESPN.

In this milieu, it seemed like Faker had finally reached his limit. He was still good, but not the best. Even as an individual, while everyone still considered him the "greatest of all time," he was considered outmatched by newer pros like Chovy and ShowMaker. 2018, 2019, 2020, and 2021 passed with no championships. In 2022, on a team of mostly rookies, he reached the world finals, but was ultimately beaten. Korea's stranglehold over the sport had been shaken by China, which had finally strung together some championships. People wondered if Faker would retire, although he had managed to avoid mandatory military service by representing Korea in the Olympics-esque Asian Games. He'd dealt with wrist injuries and his level of play dropped year over year. He just didn't seem to be that good anymore, potentially holding back his team of talented young players rather than leading them to victory.

Then, in 2023—

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And in 2024—

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In the end, never count out Touchdown Tom. 11 years of professional play, 5 world championships.

From this longwinded explanation, you might have realized that after watching that game in 2013, I became a League of Legends esports fanatic, fulfilling the prophecy set before me by my father though perhaps in not the way he would have expected.

And the things I become a fanatic about, I want to write a story about.

IV. Modern Cannibals

There's a deleted scene in Modern Cannibals, as Maximillion is driving Z. and her friends through the Utah desert. He starts to talk about Pokémon.

"I bring it up because my university thesis was about Pokemon in particular how Pokemon has basically trained an entire generation of children to think in a completely different way than preceding generations my generation for instance our fad was Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles now I don't know how much you know about Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles but from an educational standpoint we're talking absolute bankrupt complete and utter goose egg but Pokemon now Pokemon you see it's more like there's some substance to it you know that refrain Gotta Catch Em All right?" "..." "Well to most parents it looks like a marketing gimmick you make one hundred fifty-one characters and structure a game around collecting them the merchandising potential is astronomical kids buy one hundred fifty-one trading cards stickers coloring books figurines uh collectable lunchable toys I'm sure you've got some yourself."

He continues:

"But really you look at the game itself before the big toy explosion the game itself the focus is placed less on the collection and more on the catalogue you're given a blank encyclopedia to fill and you fill it by capturing one hundred fifty-one Pokemon but the goal is to create a complete database of each and every one and this is what I argue is the educational core of the Pokemon series." His hands left the wheel to conceive of his idea in the cool air of the car, which remained steady on its ever-forward path. "Our modern era is no longer one of singular isolated knowledge it is one of the catalogue the database which is most clearly personified in the advent of the internet because now all knowledge can be at the fingertips of any one human being all that is needed is someone to go and put the catalogue together and presto whiz bang it's there think about it Z. when you catch a bunch of Pokemon where do you store them?" Z. didn't need to think long to remember the game's mechanics. "In the PC." "Exactly now isn't that odd consider it in real life terms you have real life creatures made assumedly of flesh and bone and yet you store them in a computer how does that make sense you'd expect a farm or a holding pen but no it's the computer and that too prepares the budding portion of the millennial generation to become cognizant of the linkage between the computer the encyclopedia and the database structure of knowledge in a new era." "So," said Z. "So you're saying Pokemon taught kids how to think in the digital age?"

There's also a deleted character in Modern Cannibals. Well, mostly deleted—he still shows up, unnamed, in a couple of pages. He is Cole Coulter, Z.'s older brother, a popular League of Legends streamer. Before I deleted him, his role was to accompany Mrs. Roddlevan and Frederick in an attempt to bring Z. back home. He had POV scenes that gave insight into the weirdness of his cotravelers, but ultimately, I decided he didn't add anything to the story and removed him almost entirely.

Even then, though, I was already considering the future of Cole Coulter as the protagonist of a story about League of Legends esports. Playing under the ID MadKing, he would be a North American professional top laner, once known for his aggressive duelist style but recently forced into playing boring tanks as the esports metagame became more sophisticated and tactics-based.

The story would be simple, something I envisioned as a "sports story" only about esports instead of regular sports. It would start with Cole's team being relegated from the league, only for Cole to get a last chance signing to a new team with two promising Korean imports. One import, the mid laner, would be a charismatic and eccentric player in the mold of Doinb/Ganked By Mom/Huhi, while the other, an AD carry, would be introverted and pissy and elitist, in the mold of Piglet. The team would initially struggle, cultures would clash, then a mid-season replacement to sign a psychopathic Tyler1/Tarzaned style streamer as jungler would revitalize the team, put them on a major run, and get them to the World Championship. Though they would eventually fall after a miracle run, Cole would get a moment to truly shine on the biggest stage when he won a pivotal game by aggressive split pushing rather than tank play.

Thematically, the story would be about two things. First, a counterpoint to the idea of American exceptionalism, featuring a league where Americans are particularly bad compared to Korean or Chinese players. Second, an exploration of what it means to be exceptional at all. Cole would be an all-around mediocre person. Middling at school, at (real) sports, at the various popularity contests of being a teenager. League of Legends, this niche sub-sport, is the one thing he truly excelled at, the one place where he was good, better than 99.9 percent of all players, and yet even within that statistical greatness he wound up, ultimately, in a professional scene where he was once again mediocre, relegated to "tank duty," to facilitating other players to carry.

What does it mean to be the best? How can someone be so, so good, only to reach a level where they were still nothing special? Is there any way to win if you're not "the man who always wins"?

I remembered that panel from Electric Tale of Pikachu. The last people filtered before the final champion. It's certainly no walk in the zoo!

This idea was pretty detailed for a story I never wound up writing, something I mostly blame on the years 2018 and 2019, when a lot of bad things happened to me and in retrospect I consider it a minor miracle I managed to finish Chicago at all. As a human being, I would be decimated for the next three years, and so a lot of stories I might have written in that time never came to fruition.

Meanwhile, League of Legends esports reached a peak, then the venture capital bubble burst as investors realized there was no monetization scheme in place for any interested party except Riot Games. Money hemorrhaged out, Riot shifted resources to Valorant, and a sport that had been overinflated based on projected exponential growth in perpetuity fell back down to earth.

Also, Players came out.

Players was a 2022 mockumentary about a fictional League of Legends team competing in the North American league. Conceptually, it was doing a lot of what I had planned for my story: following a single team on a rags-to-riches run, focusing on the interpersonal drama of the team members, asking questions about greatness and its pursuit. It's a pretty good show if you're familiar with League of Legends esports at all, with a lot of on-the-ground fidelity that gives it an authentic feel, which is exactly what I had been hoping to use my esports fanaticism to accomplish. It completely took the wind out of my sails; it was like my idea had already been done.

So by 2022, the idea of a League of Legends esports story was dead. But there was still a drive to create something with that spirit, that would delve into those themes.

What remained after all these years of sifting the sieve, letting sand slip through, was that one panel from the manga. The number of people pursuing greatness slowly filtering until only one remained. And if I wasn't going to pursue that idea through League of Legends, maybe I could pursue it through another vehicle. Maybe the vehicle through which the idea had originally been exposed to me. Pokémon. It all came back to Pokémon.

V. Everything Evolving Into Crabs

I knew immediately that if I were to write a Pokémon fic, it would be a tournament arc. This was the natural evolution of my esports story idea. Also, if I were to write Pokémon, I wanted it to be a story about utopia, immersed within Pokémon's near-future ideal world, where everything is clean and healthy, where society is neat and ordered.

This idea caused me to remember the novel Eyeless in Gaza by Aldous Huxley, which I had read a few years back. A mostly autobiographical bildungsroman written on the precipice of World War II, the novel ends with the young protagonist on a journey to Central America, where he meets an idealistic doctor who believes sport to be a proper substitution for war. He tells the story of two tribes locked in internecine conflict through generations, able to replace that violence with soccer matches.

And wasn't that what the world of Pokémon was, a utopia revolving around neutralizing weapons of war by using them for competitive sport?

This tournament, I envisioned, would not simply be about deciding who was best, but an ideological battle for the future of the Pokémon world. To that end, I imagined a war between an entrenched trainer class, who competed as philosopher-warriors, intense individuals with deep connections to their Pokémon, and an upstart commercialization that sought to replace the ideological underpinnings that made their society so safe and prosperous with economic accumulation. It was from this kernel that the character who would become Aracely Sosa arose: charismatic, appealing, human-empathic, and propped up by a support staff who did all the hard work of teambuilding for her.

I imagined the story having an ensemble cast, focusing on nearly every competitor equally, with the Aracely character not having any especial focus until her improbable rise to the top. I imagined a final round where she faced off against "the man who always wins," and though she would lose to him, she would seem to have won the ideological battle, altering the course of society as major corporations scrambled to employ her formula for success at a much grander scale. The story would end with this realization of the earth-shattering importance behind her run, only for Aracely to sink in disappointment. Because in the end, all she really wanted was to win.

The more I thought about it, though, the less I liked the idea of an ensemble cast. The ensemble cast element of Chicago hadn't gone over very well (though I like it), and I figured it would wind up inflating the length of the story considerably. I was coming to the end of Cleveland Quixotic, after all, and once more wanted to write something smaller, tighter, and denser.

So I oriented my thinking to instead have the story revolve around Aracely and one major rival, to give an interpersonal mirror to the ideological war being waged. Thus, Toril came about as an antithesis to everything I had imagined Aracely to be: gruff, antisocial, independent. Their rivalry would culminate in a semifinals battle, before Aracely went on to fight "the man who always wins" in the finals.

I forget exactly when the gender theme came into the equation, but it evolved as an outgrowth of (once again) my competitive League of Legends expertise, where women are essentially nonexistent despite there seemingly being no biological blocks against them. This dovetailed nicely with Pokémon, a world where women seemingly could be powerful competitors, but where—in the anime at least—none ever are. For instance, look at this chart of every major tournament in the anime:

Every known winner is male. Every known finalist and semifinalist is male. Only a handful of female characters have reached the quarterfinals. What possible in-universe justification could there be for that?

This question was actually far more prominent in early planning and drafting than it wound up being in the final work. Initially, I had Aracely's personal motivation revolve around a drive to be the first female trainer to win; this would increase the ideological conflict between her and Toril, who attempted to ignore that she was female altogether. Over time, this theme would see diminished importance in face of the last piece of the thematic puzzle: cults.

It came from reading Underground by Haruki Murakami, a nonfiction journalistic account of the 1995 Tokyo sarin gas attacks carried out by the cult Aum Shinrikyo under the direction of its leader Shoko Asahara. Japan in the 90s was experiencing its own End of History, one taken literally by those disaffected with modern society's grand narrative. The prophecies of Nostradamus became fashionable among the young, who believed that 1999 would be the final year before the world was destroyed. Murakami interviewed both survivors of the gas attack and members of Aum Shinrikyo, collecting worldviews of people who simply thought they were "different" and who were willing to give everything in their lives to the one place that seemed to accept that difference.

The 1995 attacks were a watershed moment in Japanese culture. In their wake would come pivotal works of Japanese pop media, like the titan of otaku culture, Neon Genesis Evangelion:

(What's scary about Nostradamus' prophecy is that it might not come true. A year whose chief terror was that THIS WAS IT.)

Pokémon, whose first games released in Japan in 1996, also emerged within this post-Aum world where fixation on the minutiae of pop media was becoming a primary pillar of meaning for the youth, and it's hard not to see echoes of cultism in the evil teams that dot the series' landscape. Even Team Rocket, originally more modeled on organized crime than occultism, veers that direction in Gold and Silver, and afterward the organizations and their world-ending plots become increasingly absurd, to the point where it starts to become unclear why anyone would ever follow, say, Lysandre.

As I mentioned earlier, my personal interest in Pokémon was at odds with these clownish, Saturday morning cartoon villain organizations, but Murakami's account of the Aum attacks recontextualized them for me, made them make sense even within the framework of a "realistic" utopian world. The last elements snapped into place, and I knew my main character would be the member of one of these cults. A cult dedicated to, what else? Evolution. A core element of the Pokémon series, a perfect metaphor for the frustrating lack of movement of the End of History 90s. I imagined a cult leader as a surrogate mother figure for Aracely, who would have a strained relationship with both of her own parents, and deciding on that, the idea of making Pokémon's canon evil mother Lusamine the villain was a no-brainer. I imagined a post-SuMo Lusamine, unable to move on from her experience merged with Nihilego, languishing in Kanto after being sent there to consult with Bill, who had his own experience being merged with a Pokémon... It didn't take long to figure out how all these pieces connected.

The full form of the story had taken shape.

VI. Showdown

I knew immediately I would be following Showdown rules for the battles. No alternative even crossed my mind. I had dabbled in Showdown a few times over the years, first in Gen 3 OUs, then later in Gen 7 OUs, and I knew from experience that Pokémon is a monumentally more interesting competitive game when operating at a high level compared to either its depiction in the anime (shounen logic, mid-fight evolutions) or the general playing experience (spam your best move on your overleveled starter). I knew I would use competitive rulesets before I even considered the thematic or worldbuilding aspect I would eventually take in the story itself (i.e., that the specific rulesets prevent battles from becoming bloodsport and enforce order on the world). I simply thought doing battles this way would be far more entertaining.

To prepare, I started playing Gen 9 OUs under the guidance of a few friends who were into the competitive scene. I grinded the ladder for months, eventually getting a good enough grasp on the metagame to reach 1500 Elo on the Showdown ladder, which is not very good but generally higher than someone can reach with dumb luck.

Crafting the tournament format and rulesets used in the story wasn't difficult. I modeled the tournament format on the League of Legends World Championship, with region-based seeds (having been selected due to performance in regional tournaments) competing in four groups before the highest performers advanced to a single elimination bracket. Initially, I envisioned a 32-competitor bracket instead of the 16-competitor bracket that would appear in the final draft, but otherwise the format came quickly and easily.

In terms of the rulesets and available Pokémon, my considerations were made primarily in terms of what would be most entertaining to read. I decided to include Mega Evolutions and not include Z Moves, Dynamax, or Terastallization, because Mega Evolutions are cool and those other gimmicks are not. The bring-9-pick-6 format, while unusual in Showdown rulesets, is similar to the rules in Pokémon Stadium and VGC tournaments, and also adds a level of intrigue to which Pokémon each competitor uses. (It also enabled Red's Zapdos at the climax of the story, which was something I knew I would bring out from very early on.)

With the help of one of my friends who knew competitive Pokémon, I scripted out each battle assiduously before I wrote them. Every battle was tested using Showdown itself, with only a few turns mocked up to account for luck. For instance, in Aracely versus Jinjiao, Slowking is meant to stay asleep for three turns. Rather than rely on luck to ensure Slowking actually slept that long during the test, I could give Slowking a useless move and have him use that instead to simulate being asleep.

The only thing that couldn't be tested in Showdown was the 7 PP Kingambit trick Red uses at the end of the story, because it's impossible to set a Pokémon to have fewer than max PP in Showdown. This led to one of the bigger mistakes of the story, as it turns out that Encore would simply wear off if Kingambit ran out of PP, rather than forcing him to use Struggle like I assumed. Luckily, even if this were the case, it wouldn't change the outcome of the battle, so it's not an error I lose too much sleep over.

Character teams were chosen to thread the needle between a few considerations. The team needed to be competitively viable, reflect the character's personality in some way, and be distinct from other teams for the sake of variety. (Variety is somewhat unrealistic in real top-level competitive Pokémon, where you'll often see many almost identical teams in the top ranks. But that would be boring.) Some lack of optimization was allowed under the conceit that actually training these Pokémon to peak form would take a lot of time in the real world, compared to Showdown were optimization can be determined quickly due to the ability to immediately adjust stats and builds.

I also tried to give some preference for Pokémon that would be more familiar to layman fans, though this was difficult because Gen 8 and 9 have outrageous power creep and many popular early generation Pokémon have been completely phased out. (Using Megas helped with this issue.) It was this consideration that led to Azumarill being Aracely's ace. There was also an innate challenge to imagining what the competitive scene would look like without legendary Pokémon. Zapdos and Landorus-Therian have been inexorable staples of the competitive scene for generations. What happens in a world where they aren't used at all?

In the original 32-person bracket, I imagined Aracely competing against Jinjiao in the first round, then minor characters Adrian da Cunha and Jacq Ray Johnson in the next two rounds, before facing Toril in semifinals. I imagined Adrian da Cunha as a "hometown hero" whose team wasn't great but he was plucky with a lot of grit, and Jacq Ray Johnson as a self-aware heel who liked to use cheesy strategies and gimmicky Pokémon like Smeargle and Ditto. Condensing from 32 to 16 occurred around the same time I had settled on Lusamine as my villain/cult leader, which led to replacing those two with Gladion. I developed full brackets for both the 32-man and 16-man iterations, with character names and regions, just in case I ever needed to mention them.

All that was left to do was write the story.

VII. Unbroken Line of History

I began writing in September 2023 under the tentative title Unbroken Line of History, which I would later change to simply Lines. In the original drafts, I opened the story with a modified version of the panel from Electric Tale of Pikachu detailing how people are filtered over time in their pursuit of being the best, this time starting with all 8 billion people in the world until only one remains. The story then cut to Aracely's perspective in the restroom as she mentally prepared for her final group stage match.

At this point I was more set on Aracely being the clear protagonist of the story, so she had a few facets of her personality designed around that. First, as I mentioned before, there was a feminist angle where she was motivated specifically to be the first female trainer to win the championship. Secondly, I threw in some more generic nervousness/fear of failure. The other major difference is that I did not lead with the cult prophecy of the world ending. I originally envisioned the cult reveal to be a mid-story twist, and only obliquely hinted at it.

The scene still played out with Toril appearing and the two getting off to a bad start. Then, Cely's father tried to talk strategy with her while she ignored him, before the battle transpired in much the same form as it does in the final draft.

I showed this early draft to my friends and most disliked it. My girlfriend at the time told me Cely sounded like an edgy 13-year-old boy, while my neuroscientist friend whose aspirational idol is Bondrewd from Made in Abyss wanted to know more about the oblique hints of a cult, finding everything else boring. Another friend said it was stupid that there were 30 seconds between turns during the battle and that the Pokémon should just go at each other; nobody would actually want to watch a battle that was paced so slowly. (I vehemently disagreed with that take. Basically every popular sport balances between slow-paced moments of strategy and fast-paced moments of action and execution.) Some people I showed it to did enjoy it, though. Gazemaize, the author of Chili and the Chocolate Factory, was especially enamored by the Brittany/Gardevoir reveal and the Bud Light Analyst Desk, and implored me to keep both of those elements at all costs. 7th, one of my friends who helped me with the Showdown stuff, was so into it she drew fan art of all the characters (which I've posted before) and also wrote eight pornographic short stories about them.

I rewrote the same opening scene several times across October and November, though these were minor iterations without significant adjustments. Frustrated with the lack of progress, I decided to take a break from writing to simply think about the story for a few months.

During this time, to fix Aracely's edgy 13-year-old voice, I decided to lean into her being from Pokémon Los Angeles (with her native region, Visia, being a play on "visual" as a reference to Hollywood) and gave her a Valley Girl accent. To prepare for this, I listened to hours and hours of ASMR videos of people speaking like Valley Girls and took notes on their inflection and syntax. It was here where I decided on Aracely's underlining quirk, as a way of capturing the unique style of emphasis Valley Girls used.

This also made me realize I needed to adjust Aracely's personality. Despite the tone of her voice, she was still acting antisocially. She didn't want to talk to her father, she didn't want to talk to Lachlan Nguyen, she didn't even really want to talk to Toril. Toril herself was a lump of coal. My own misanthropy kept leaking into the characters, even when I conceptually didn't want them to have it. I thought back to Cleveland Quixotic, and how what made the Jay and Viviendre romance work was that they actually both liked each other, and figured—even though I didn't have explicitly romantic plans for Aracely and Toril—that I needed to do something similar to make their rivalry truly pop. Rather than avoid people, Aracely would lean into talking to them, even if they were annoying. Although Toril remained frigid, there would be a part of her yearning for emotional contact, a way to coax her out of her shell.

I also thought deeply about the structure of my stories in general, and my inability to come up with good hooks. It was around this time that someone I knew was reading Chicago. They pointed out that the plot of Chicago doesn't really start until Chapter 26; that I was "burying the lede." I considered this. My logic, when writing Chicago, was that the Empire moving to take over Washington would be a twist, something that would shock and excite people and change their perception of the entire story.

But did that make sense, when really the story was "about" that twist? Didn't that just make everything before the twist harder to get into for a reader? Chicago might look radically different if I revealed the Empire's goals immediately, but it would also probably be a more immediately engaging work. I'm a big fan of delayed gratification in storytelling, but had I taken it too far?

This was a major revelation for me, and immediately I understood what I needed to do for my Pokémon story: move up the cult plotline. Place it front and center. Name the whole story after it even. I decided on framing the opening scene from Toril's perspective, depicting Aracely initially more as an alien other, emphasizing the fact that she was in a cult rather than hide it behind foreshadowing. This could also lead to Aracely and Toril having more of a dual protagonist setup, which would make my planned two-half finale (one half where Aracely battled "the man who always wins," one half where Toril got involved in stopping the cult's doomsday plot) work even better.

Confidence resurged. At the end of January 2024, my girlfriend of seven years and I broke up. A few days later, I started writing the sixth—and ultimately final—draft of When I Win the World Ends.

VIII. When I Win the World Ends

Now it's the part of the Making Of where I actually make the thing I'm supposed to be making, but there's a lot less to say about it. Once I have a plan, the actual writing of the story is the easy part, and most of what I wrote—with a few exceptions—looks similar to the story as it exists now.

There were some oddities. I wrote the first seven chapters (everything up to the end of the Jinjiao battle) and then had to take a two week break to write a short piece for a writing contest I had entered in December as part of an effort to stop overthinking WIW. After this interruption, I returned to WIW writing perhaps a bit more perfunctorily than I usually would, leading to an original version of Chapter 8 (the chapter where MOTHER makes her first real appearance) that was short and abbreviated. Later, in editing, I would rewrite most of this chapter.

A few ideas emerged while writing, like the motif of serendipity/Logos, which I felt tied nicely to the ideas of evolution and history. It was also in this draft that I introduced Cely's friends Haydn and Charlie, as a nod to an earlier work of mine also featuring a fashion-obsessed girl from Los Angeles. (Speaking of nods to earlier works, in the original 32-man bracket, Cole Coulter featured as one of the competitors, but he didn't make the 16-man cut.)

The process went smoothly. I finished the draft at the end of May, a little under four months after I started it. I had envisioned the full story as being about 70,000 words, but the draft ended up closer to 115,000. Underestimating story length is just an essential element of the trade, though.

A few days after finishing the draft I went on a four-day Oklahoma Darkness Retreat where I had access to zero electronics. The goal was to think about my story deeply and how it could be improved in the editing process.

In this time chamber, where I did nothing except complete crossword puzzles and read The Recognitions by William Gaddis, I came to a realization. There was one element the story needed that wasn't already there.

That element was Sabrina. In the original draft, Sabrina was not present during the scene where Aracely meets the Old Man. She was mentioned obliquely a couple of times in conjunction with Aracely's "psychic powers," but it never really built to anything. There was still a scene where Aracely was interrogated due to her relationship with MOTHER, but only by nameless goons, and the scene lacked tension as it was clear Aracely could talk circles around them.

When I returned from Oklahoma, I prepared for my conception of Sabrina as a character by writing an 8,000 word short story from her perspective, which hashed out an entire backstory for her. Then, I started editing the draft.

For me, a lot of editing is just polish. Usually, cutting out needless sentences and fixing clunky ones, as well as emphasizing a few of the more understated themes and motifs. For instance, during editing, I made slight additions to emphasize the thematic connection between Aracely's suicide attempt and the global war that almost destroyed the world, as well as the connection between the moon and cyclical insanity (lunacy, etymologically, being related to the moon). I made the Old Man more of a Walt Disney-esque figure (from my notes: "a dying Disney"), rewriting much of his dialogue to either be direct quotes or to evoke his ideals. I also expanded on several of the scenes where Toril and Aracely interact to make their relationship more complex and nuanced. I gave MOTHER some new dialogue, including her speech in Chapter 18 about loving a child for the potential it promises, while also paradoxically wanting it to remain a child forever.

The largest changes were in the three chapters I almost fully rewrote. The first was Chapter 8, which as I mentioned earlier was overly terse. In the original draft, it depicted MOTHER as more pathetic, more dependent on Aracely. I decided to make her a more threatening figure, and incorporated a few references to the Moloch sacrifice scene from Valle Verde to make her seem more like a false idol. Similarly, I rewrote Chapter 12, which was originally a very short chapter that focused solely on a conversation between MOTHER and Nilufer that ended with the order to kidnap Aracely. In rewriting the chapter to include Fiorella, I gave myself more opportunity to flesh out the respective philosophies of her and MOTHER (including some of the story's most salient discussions about why cults exist), as well as give more of an insight into the inner workings of RISE as an organization. And lastly, I fully rewrote Chapter 19 to include Sabrina.

The last changes I made in editing were to the final chapter. When I finished the final draft of the story, I sent it to several readers, many of whom had looked at the original drafts of the first chapter, as well as julirites, the author of a Fargo fan fiction called London. There was an immediate and minor backlash to the final chapter, which was originally much more pessimistic, from most people who read it. In the original version, Aracely and Toril were not still in communication. (Fiorella was also dying of cancer instead of jockeying to replace the Old Man.) The finale had a much more somber, sedate, tragic note. Juli and 7th disliked this sad ending, while Gazemaize wanted me to cut the final chapter altogether. I felt confident that the final chapter was necessary, though, and revised it to its current version, which was much better liked.

And then... the story was finished, near the end of July. I crunched the numbers and realized that if I posted two chapters to start and then did a twice-weekly posting schedule, I could end the story serendipitously on October 12. So I did.

IX. Names and Special Thanks

In my Making Of post for Cleveland Quixotic, I had a fairly extensive list of where I got all the character and place names from. The list is a lot less extensive here; most names I constructed for the purpose of sounding evocative, rather than taking them from someplace specific. For instance, I chose the name Aracely Sosa because it sounds like whistling with its repeated S sounds, compared to Toril Lund which is a lot harsher with its consonants. You can see a similar rationale behind names like Fiorella Fiorina, Yui Matsui, and even some of the background characters, like Jacq Ray Johnson, Jr., where there is a lot of emphasis on alliteration and rhyme.

There are a couple of exceptions. Jinjiao is the in-game ID of a longtime Chinese League of Legends pro of middling notability. He picked the name (which means "Golden Horn") as a reference to the Golden Horned King, a villain from Journey to the West.

Lutz, Fiorella's cameraman, was named after an extremely minor character from Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance, who is not playable and only appears in a singular cutscene before being killed. They are so irrelevant that despite naming a character after them, I actually forgot their name, which is Lotz, not Lutz.

Haydn is named after the famous classical composer.

Special thanks to 7th and Elick320 for helping me with the teams and battles. Thanks to Gazemaize and julirites, among others unnamed, for reading and providing feedback. And thank you all for enjoying the story.

#when i win the world ends #wiw #bavitz #the making of #writing #pokemon #fanfic #fan fiction #league of legends #faker #the electric tale of pikachu #Youtube

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heartschampion · 1 month ago

Text

september 30th — ethan landry

PAIRING. ethan landry x fem!reader

SUMMARY. in which you make a bet with your boyfriend, ethan, the night before the start of october. thirty-one days of sex.

CONTENT. no ghostface!au, ethan bailey is canon!!, established relationship, fluff, bantering, a little suggestive, no smut, basically a prologue chapter, no beta, not proofread.

WORD COUNT. 1.9k

previous. masterlist. next.

11:49 PM.

It’s times like this where I find myself thinking — really thinking — deeper into life and its meaning. The closer I look, the more I start to realize how glorified life is. I follow the same routine day-in and day-out. Wake up, get ready, go to class, go home, and get ready for the same thing tomorrow. It’s like the only time I get to have a reprise is in moments late into the night, all snuggled up and ready to sleep. A sliver of freedom in a meticulously bland and boring way of life.

Not to be melodramatic or anything. Ethan often told me I have a knack for that.

The blinding light of my laptop screen hits my retinas with a harsh glare despite having set the brightness to its dimmest setting. Still, beggars can’t be choosers, so I tough it out. I scroll aimlessly through my Tumblr dashboard, skimming past posts until one catches my attention just enough for me to stop and actually read.

‘Mattheo Riddle x Reader, Niccolo Govender x Reader, Jack Ch—’

“Ugh,” a small groan sounds from beside me on the bed. With a quirk of a smile, I glance beside me at my boyfriend, Ethan Bailey, who is laid there in all his glory. He has his arm draped over his eyes, covering them from the light emitting from my laptop. For a split second, I feel bad for disturbing his sleep. Ethan lets out another groan before throwing his arm off to the side, his eyes flickering over to my figure. “Angel, can we please go to bed?”

I sigh as I hear the pleading tone of his voice and shoot him an apologetic look.

“Just a few more minutes, Eth. Promise.”

Ethan simply gives me a blank stare, not believing my words for a second. He rolls over onto his side, now fully facing me with a sulky little pout on his lips. As cute as he is, I can’t fall for his tricks and forget about the task I had assigned myself. Ethan raises his head from the pillow, craning his neck to peek at my screen. Curious, he asks, “What are you doing anyways?”

A soft smile crosses my face at his question, both amused by the innocence behind it and touched by his curiosity. I reach over to pet his messed up curls, a habit that I had developed ever since the two of us moved in together for the new semester. Immediately, Ethan melts into my touch, visibly relaxing at the contact shared between the two of us.

“Just waiting for all the October context to start being posted.”

“Why October specifically?” He asks while furrowing his brows in confusion, completely and blissfully unaware of what I was talking about at all. It was kind of cute that he didn’t know, especially considering Richie of all people ran an active and thriving blog. It was literally the worst kept secret ever. Even Quinn knew. “Something special happening?”

“Mmm, something like that…” I giggle, causing Ethan to raise his furrowed brow at me in question. Unable to keep a straight face at the overly serious expression that he’s giving me, I burst out in laughter, deciding to finally enlighten him to the world of Kinktober. After a few moments, I calm myself down, taking a few deep breaths, letting out some final snickers. On the flip side, Ethan just stares at me blankly, unamused. With a roll of my eyes, I softly scratch at his scalp, confessing the ‘dirty secret’ I had been keeping for so long. “It’s Kinktober. Y’know, when writers just shit out a bunch of written porn?”

“Kink…tober?” Ethan repeats back, his expression contorting into one of confusion. He repeats the word a few more times, looking deep in contemplation while processing the information I had just dumped on him. Without even trying to hide it, I coo at him like an owner would at their pet. Blinking, he deadpans, “So you’re up at midnight just to read porn?”

“Smut.”

“Right. Smut.” He corrects himself, but not without a dramatic show of rolling his eyes in faux annoyance. It’s now my turn to roll my eyes, removing my hand from his hair and flicking his forehead in retaliation. Immediately, Ethan swats my hand away from anywhere near his face and rubs his forehead, grumbling to himself as he gives me a proper stinkeye. In return, I simply give him a cheeky smile and stick out my tongue, albeit a bit childishly.

It doesn’t take much long though until he forgets about the whole ordeal and goes back to the topic at hand. He clicks his tongue, eyes brightening with an idea that I know could be no good and smirks at me. With a lazy drawl, he asks smugly, “Why read about sex when you have me?”

Not expecting that of all things to come out of his mouth, I’m taken by surprise. A snort escapes my lips at the suggestive implication in his words. Placing my laptop beside me, I prop myself up on my elbow and lean down to Ethan, squinting at him. “What’re you trying to say, Bailey?”

Like a predator stalking his prey, he gazes up at me, a tinge of seduction behind those innocent looking brown eyes. He eyes me with temptation, luring me in before he can swallow me whole. His larger hand stalks around my hip, caressing at my skin as he travels across its smooth surface. Suddenly, I’m pulled in, now on top of him and straddling his hips where I can feel him start to harden.

“There’s no way some dumb words could ever be better than…me.”

He’s right and we both know it, but a bigger part of me wants to challenge him on that. Maybe it’s his cockiness in his tone, or the fact that his growing boner is directly pressing against my clothed core as he grinds his hips. Either way, I raise my eyebrow, looking down at him from above. “Really, huh? Big words coming from someone who came within the first three minutes last time.”

At the reminder of the last time we had sex, his eyes widened and his face flushed in embarrassment. “That was an accident!” He vehemently exclaims, defending himself for his early ejaculation.

If I were to be completely honest, I was kind of turned on from how easily he came from just being inside of me, not even fully engulfed. The idea was lewder than the circumstances surrounding it, but the prospect of him almost coming inside of me — Even though we were protected — was as enticing as it was terrifying.

“Besides, you know how good I can make you feel.” Ethan then attempts to wink, his eyelids not cooperating, leading to him blinking instead. Realizing that he messed up his attempt to be smooth, he shakes his head and instead smiles sheepishly.

I giggle at his silliness, brushing aside the curls near his eyes with a level of fondness I once never would have known to exist. He really was perfect for me. Pinching his cheeks, I keep poking at him and his cocky attitude. “You think you can keep up?”

“Babe, I know I can.” He states as confident as ever, a smirk playing on his face. Without another word, he starts to run his hands up my thighs, my skin prickling up at his electric touch. Reaching my hips, he starts to rub circles around my hip dips, fondling my inner thighs. I let out a deep sigh, both relaxing at his intimate touch, and tensing as his boner pokes into me. Unable to help myself, I grind my pulsating core against him, satisfying the need.

“So cute...”

I whine at his words, embarrassed at just how badly I needed him at this moment. He was the one who started it in the first place, yet I was the one here left to look like a mess instead of him. It was unfair. Continuing to grind against him, he suddenly stops his movements. I hiss out, “Eth, you annoying fuck…”

Out of nowhere, he flips the two of us around, the lower half of his body pressed against me as he looks down on me. I’m caged in his arms, each one placed beside me, trapping me as his prisoner. Ethan cocks his head to the side, an innocent look on his face. He speaks in a sickeningly sweet voice, “What’s the matter, angel?”

“You know what’s wrong.”

“Do I?” He asks, pretending to think about it.

“Eth!” I hiss, squirming underneath him. He’s so close, the only thing separating us being the clothes we have on. Never have I ever wanted to not have any on more than I do right now. I needed to feel him, all of him. Not just his warmth, but skin against skin to truly prove that he was right there with me.

Ethan lets out a chuckle, grinning at how needy I was being. I bet he really got off on that, huh? Knowing that he was in control, having me wrapped around his finger. Fuck, I needed him in me whether it was his fingers or his dick. He clicks his tongue, shaking his head at me like he was reprimanding me. “Thirty-one days, angel. You can wait a few hours.”

Just like that, Ethan shifts off of me and back to his side of the bed with a satisfied smile on his face. The sudden switch from before to now was jarring and it took me a few moments before I completely processed what just happened. I scoff, propping myself up on my elbows and looking over at him.

“Are you serious?” “Super.” The pain in the ass called my boyfriend responds, closing his eyes, ready to fall asleep.

“You’re literally cockblocking yourself!” I sputter out in disbelief. Ethan Bailey, the boy who couldn’t keep his hands off of me. The same boy who literally cried the first time we had sex — I did too. The same boy who was now laying in our bed with a rock-hard boner, yet doing nothing about it when he had the more than eager opportunity to. What a fucking idiot.

“Mmm,” he hummed, thinking over his words carefully. “I can handle it.”

I let out an overdramatic huff as I collapsed onto the bed. Looking over, I peer at Ethan’s ‘sleeping’ face. A few moments passed of me just staring at him with a blank expression before he opened one eye and looked at me with a questioning expression. “Can’t sleep, love?”

“Don’t even.” I warned, glaring at him and his feigned nonchalance.

He chuckles, and I can feel him shift in the bed. Soon, arms wrap around me and pull me into a tight embrace. My face is gently placed against Ethan’s nape where I often laid on nights like this. Without a word, I wrap my arms and legs around him like a koala with a tree, seeking any contact with him. I bury my face into his nape, taking in his cinnamon scent.

“Sorry.” Despite his words, Ethan lets out another chuckle, the vibrations of it throughout his body a soothing feeling against my tense body.

I grumble, “You’re not sorry.”

He huffs in amusement at my sulkiness, petting my hair. Pecks and kisses litter my face in a frenzy as a way of him trying to make me feel better. To his credit, it does work despite my attempts to not let it. How could I ever resist his kisses? Peering down at me, Ethan smiles softly before kissing my lips. Cinnamon chapstick and lemonade citrus.

“Happy…uh…Kinktober, angel.”

#( hearts fics ★ )#( we fell in love in october )#scream #scream vi #scream 6 #ethan landry #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry x reader #kinktober

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katyawriteswhump · 4 months ago

Text

mommy's girl

For @stevieweek day 4 (sorry I’m late!) Special Outfit and extra prompts, Scoops/uniform, lingerie & @steddiemicrofic July prompt, ‘one’. Rating: M WC 1,111 words. CW: None.

Tags: trans-fem Stevie Harrington, steddie, no upside down au, angst and feels, platonic stobin, steve has an awesome mom and not-so-awesome dad (also, faintly based on some RL experiences belonging to my other half... used with permission and love ;)) All my ST fic on AO3

Summary: Stevie makes a new beginning, and it’s all super-overwhelming…

…

Stevie was fumbling in her purse for her car-keys. Her mom hurried from the porch with yesterday’s mascara bleeding from her eyes and her hair tumbling from its pins:

“Stevie! You forgot your name-badge.”

“Gotta love company policy,” griped Stevie. At least the dumb thing now said ‘Stevie.’ Her mom pinned it on her Scoops uniform above her padded bra—part of a slinky set Eddie gifted her last time he came home from tour. Eddie was next due back today, which was something to look forward to after the previous night’s trauma.

“You gonna be okay, mom?” asked Stevie. “If you need me, I’ll call in sick.”

“No. This is day one of the rest of our lives. Your father’s finally gone for good. I need to start untangling our affairs.”

“And I finally get to go to work in a miniskirt.” Stevie glanced at her thigh-kissing skirt. She loved it, but… Shit, too much was happening.

His mom had booted her father out for a billion reasons. However, his constant gaslighting of Stevie being Stevie—and her dating ‘that lowlife Munson punk’—had sparked last night’s apocalyptic standoff. “Look, I’m sorry it was me that—”

“Don’t you dare apologise.” Her mom placed her hands on Stevie’s shoulders. “I’m so proud of you, darling. You got a job you enjoy, a boyfriend who adores you, and you always look a billion dollars.”

“In this shitty uniform?”

“Even in that.”

“Still not wearing the lousy hat.”

Breaking the news about her father to Robin meant Scoops opened half an hour late. Then, when Stevie leaned down to pull up the shutter, Robin yelled: “Screw you, Shit-bird, that skirt looks too good, and your ass looks too pretty, and I despise you.”

“You wear a skirt then. You could start a douchey scoreboard for who gets more creepy stares.”

“You know I hate skirts.”

“Quit whining then.”

Bantering with Robin couldn’t distract Stevie from her tiredness and nerves. When her mind started screaming, she focussed on the cling of her skirt, the glide of the silk panties beneath. Eddie would be here soon. Eddie would go crazy for her…

Robin took the phone message. Eddie’s flight was cancelled. He wouldn’t be home till tomorrow.

Dammit, Stevie needed him now.

She was wiping down a table, when she heard a snicker. A devastating mean-girl stare slammed into her.

Right at crotch level.

Stevie glanced down.

Oh. Shit.

Robin found her at the back of the store, slumped forward on the table, face pillowed in her arms. “Stevie? You okay?”

“No.” Stevie jumped up and pointed to the middle-front of her skirt. At the bulge. “Look.”

“Huh?”

“You see? It’s Mr… Miss Pokey.”

Robin shrugged. “Only if you squint.”

Stevie swiped her lank-feeling hair from her face. Her hands trembled. “I’ve not even gotten an erection or anything. Everyone’s staring.”

“They’re not.”

“They are! I loved these panties, but the silk triangle at the front bunches everything forward and…” Suddenly, it was all super-overwhelming. What the heck was she… HE… doing? He’d wrecked his parents’ marriage. Eddie was probably lying about the flight to avoid him. “Jesus, I look horrible. I’ll put the shorts back on.”

“Don’t you dare.” Robin shoved a banana across the table. “Eat that. You’re cranky when you’re hungry.”

“It doesn’t solve—”

“No, it doesn’t. I have an idea what will.”

…

“It’s too weird not having to shit myself about your Pa taking pot-shots at me,” said Eddie, when Stevie led him into her bedroom. It was stacked with boxes—her mom had already got the decorators in. “Got you a lil’ something, Babe.”

Eddie presented a crepe-paper parcel. Stevie smiled tightly and sat on the bed to unwrap. It was gonna be more underwear, but her confidence was so shattered that…

She held up the swathe of peachy cotton and white lace. “You got me granny pants?”

Eddie beamed and Stevie couldn’t help giggling.

“Jesus, did Robin call you? Or my mom?”

She stripped off and pulled them on, loving how Eddie lapped her up with his thirsty gaze. Stevie couldn’t keep her own eyes from the mirror. The panties pressed her in slightly in the front, perfect for a mini-skirt or figure-hugging dress. Eddie swept her hair from where it dusted her shoulders and hooked her matching bra. He trailed kisses down the sweep of her neck, each sending a delicious shimmer down her spine, then twirled her around.

“I love them, Eddie.”

“Me too, honey. You look amazing. I could’ve got ones that pad at the hips but with your teeny waist…” He traced it lightly. She shivered with pleasure. “Nah, don’t need it.”

“Can’t believe I’m feeling hot in big panties.” She leaned back into his embrace, dizzied by the weird relief of the moment. It was no way as epic as her father having finally gone, but…

“Shall I order a dozen, Stevie?��

“Hell, yeah.”

They both tumbled sideways onto her bed. “Cool, Babe. Let’s get you outta them.”

They took it slow, kissing till he was wearing her lipstick. Then he set her squirming, her fists clenching his hair, as he nibbled around the cute lace at the trim of her panties, before slipping his fingertips teasingly beneath. Slowly, he peeled her free. Stevie hadn’t waxed today, but that was fine, because hairy was what she was sometimes, and Eddie, as he whispered again and again, worshipped her every way she was.

They made love, fixing deep in each other’s eyes. Stevie’s panties looped her thigh like a slinky garter.

…

It was a week later when Stevie, for the first time since her father left, found her mom crying. She was hanging out the washing on the line.

“Mom, what is it?” She hurried over, and yes, her mom’s eyes were teary. And she was laughing. “Mom?”

Her mom reached up and brushed knuckles down Stevie’s cheek. “Don’t worry about me, darling. I’m happy.” She nodded at Stevie’s new panties. “They remind me of my gym kit. You know, the good old cheerleading days. Never marry a Jock, darling.”

“Wasn’t on planning on it.”

“Eddie really is the one, isn’t he?”

Stevie’s heart panged with happiness and sadness at once. “Still time for you to find your one and only, mom.”

They pegged the rest of the washing up together: “Gotta ask, mom—did you want a daughter?”

“I only ever wanted you, Stevie,” she said, then, slightly crossly: “But if your long-haired lover’s late for family dinner again, I’ll kick his ass back on tour.”

“Mom!” Stevie pitched a sock, which her mom neatly caught. “Don’t be mean.”

They were both laughing. Life felt pretty good.

#stevieweek2024 #steddiemicroficjuly #steddie microfic #transfeminine steve harrington #transfem steve harrington #steddie #steddie fanfic #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddiemicrofic #steddie ficlet #steddie smut #steddie fluff #steddie microfic july #trans steve harrington

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itgetsdark-x · 2 years ago

Note

ok but pre-outbreak Joel gets a cute young new neighbour and she’s a camgirl (pretending it’s more modern day and the technology exists lol) but he doesn’t know and one day she asked him for help with fixing something so he actually sees the inside of her house. And then later on, at night he’s trying to find something good 👀 for happy Joel time (bc his cute neighbour in her way too short shorts got him a lil hot and bothered) he comes across her doing a live cam show and he’s like “oh shit.. I know that room. And that ass..) and he realises it’s her and he just has to join in and see what’s going on and it just gets smutty.

And in the end he somehow reveals it’s him in a discreet non creepy way and she’s like yeah i know *wink wink* just really flirty and stuff! There could even be another part eventually where they actually get together and smuuuut!

This idea has been in my head the last few days but I’m not a good writer.. and you’re such a good smut writer 😭😭

A/N: oh my sweet anon, I am so sorry this took so long!! I may or may not have got carried away with this and rolled it all into one piece… so have this monstrous 7.1k word oneshot 🥹

Warnings: 18+, minors dni!! fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v (do better!), use of the word daddy, implied age gap (everyone is of legal and consenting age!), probs more I’ve missed. It’s just porn tbh people!

Word Count: 7.1k

Characters: Joel Miller x Cam Girl!Reader (f)

You waved sweetly, blew a kiss to your laptop screen and ended the stream after saying a final goodbye to your viewers. You closed down your laptop and reached behind you, on your bed to grab your T-shirt and shorts. You stood up from your spot on your bed, stretched your back with a groan and threw your baggy T-shirt on over your naked torso and shimmied your tight gym shorts over your bare legs.

You had moved back to Austin a few months ago with your parents, things had ended badly with a previous partner and it meant moving back to the city to be closer to them. Your parents majorly helped you out, hence why you were able to afford the comfy house you lived in, deep in the suburbs.

Your house was next to Joel Miller’s, he was a devoted single father to his daughter, Sarah, who was in her mid-teens. You would sometimes look after Sarah if her sitter ever cancelled last minute and you loved it, it was like having a little sister, she would often come round and ask for advice on clothes, boys and sometimes, homework, when she trusted you enough to know the subject.

You kept a fair distance from her dad, he was a handsome male in his late forties, potentially pushing older and sure, you thought he was super handsome but it wasn’t a line you particularly wanted to cross due to the implications and mess if you did, so you stuck to yourself besides your interactions with Sarah.

To help pay your rent and keep food on your table, you had a part-time job at a local store but the main source of your income came from your online presence. You performed on an adult-only cam site and offered subscriptions for your content. You had somewhat gained traction on the site and it left you living fairly comfortably, especially with your parents help. No one around you in your day-to-day life knew about your online presence and you preferred to keep it that way, it was the twenty-first century and sure your parents may have understood, you just preferred to not talk about it with them.

You walked downstairs, your makeup was still on but you had pulled your hair up away from your face. You had gone to get a snack after a two-hour long show, you had given your midday viewers a special treat as you normally only performed in the evenings / later at night as that’s when the money seemed to roll in easier. You ate a bagel with cream cheese and sighed to yourself as you scrolled through your phone, you clocked the time and noticed you had four hours or so until you had an evening stream booked. You needed a hot bath to clean yourself up after this afternoon’s one and a nap also sounded amazing.

With that in mind, you wandered back upstairs and switched your taps on in your en-suite and awaited the water to warm up. You waited five minutes and the water was still icy cold, you rolled your eyes and pulled your clothes back on.

“Fucks sake.” You huffed angrily and stomped downstairs to pop next door.

Joel was a contractor and all-round handyman, sure he wasn’t a plumber but he would most definitely have a better idea of what was going on and he would most likely be able to fix it. You walked down the driveway of your house to head to Joel’s; the cool summer breeze pricked your skin, goosebumps rose on your arms and legs and your nipples hardened under the white fabric of your T-shirt.

You brought your hand up and knocked on the door once, you looked down at your appearance and suddenly felt self-conscious, you pulled your arms across your chest to cover your nipples and shifted on the spot as you awaited someone to answer the door.

“Oh, hi darlin’.” Joel said, smiling through his confusion as to why you were here and knocking on his door. “Sarah is at a friend’s for the night, she’s been beggin’ me to let her have a sleepover so I gave in. Were you looking for her?” He asked softly.

You tracked his eyes, they started from your flip-flop clad feet and followed the shapely lines of your bare legs before they hungrily raked over your torso and found their way back to your own eyes. You swallowed roughly and pulled your arms tighter around yourself.

“Uh, I was actually looking for you…” you started. “I’ve got somewhere to be in a few hours and I need a bath, my taps aren’t running hot. I was wonderin’ whether you could come over and take a look?” You asked nervously.

“Oh sure! It’ll probably be a simple fix, let me grab my tools from the truck and I’ll be right over.” He smiled and closed his door behind him.

He grabbed his toolkit from the back of the truck and ushered for you to lead the way back to your house. Joel watched as your hips swayed as you walked, the stretchy fabric of your gym shorts clung to your hips, ass and thighs perfectly. They rode up your behind in the most teasing way and Joel mentally cursed himself for imagining what laid underneath the material.

“Hot date tonight then?” Joel asked innocently as you walked him up your stairs.

“Ha. Yeah. Something like that.” You laughed awkwardly, god if only he knew.

You opened your bedroom door to Joel and let him walk into your room. “Yeah, just through that door. I’m useless with this sorta stuff and normally I would call my dad but he’s at work and I noticed your truck in the driveway…” you mumbled and stood in your bedroom awkwardly.

You looked around your room, just scanning the area to ensure you hadn’t left any of your toys out from your stream and you felt your cheeks immediately glow when you noticed your vibrator sitting by your pillow.

Joel was humming as he took your bath panel off to inspect the plumbing work under the ceramic and you took the opportunity to push the vibe just under your pillow. You went over to the bathroom and leant on the door frame; you couldn’t help but admire the older male’s biceps as they flexed as he toyed with the temperature valve under the bath. He fiddled around for fifteen minutes or so until the water ran hot, the water immediately steaming in the air.

You grinned at him as he called out ‘gotcha’. “Joel! You’re a hero, thank you! I owe you a pack of beers, I’ll get them over to you at some point this week, I promise.” You enthused and clapped your hands.

Joel sat up from his position, clicked your bath panel back in place and switched the taps off. He looked at you and dusted his hands off on his jeans, as you clapped he couldn’t help but notice the way your breasts squeezed together under your shirt. He could clearly see that you weren’t wearing any underwear, your nipple’s colour showed through your white T-shirt and he felt his cock twitch in his boxers at the sight.

“Don’t be silly, darlin’. I’m just happy to help out a neighbour in need. Plus you look out for Sarah, I owe you a lot more than sorting out a couple valves under your tub.” He laughed and threw his spanner back into his tool bag.

“I love Sarah! She’s like a little sister to me, I just hope I’m not a bad influence on her!” You giggled and watched as Joel packed up his tools.

“You a bad influence? I doubt that very much, sweetheart.” He smiled softly and you let him pass you back into your room. He looked around your room and admired your decorations. “I like what you’ve done in here, looks real nice. You do this yourself?” He asked and toyed with the material of the canopy that hung above your double bed.

You nodded proudly. “Yeah, well, my dad helped me a little but I always get impatient and end up doing it myself just so it’s done.” You chuckled and he looked around before clapping his hands awkwardly once.

“I should uh, let you have your bath in peace. Unless you need anything else from me?” Joel asked causing your eyebrows to rise in shock. “No! I meant um, sorry darlin’! Didn’t mean to sound so dirty with that suggestion, I mean do you have anything else that needs to looking at around your house?” He corrected himself and you laughed softly at him.

“Oh, of course you didn’t.” You mumbled, an edge of disappointment lacing your voice. “Well, my facets and pipes under the sink, downstairs are a little loose and leaky. If you wouldn’t mind tightening them, I would be really grateful.” You smiled softly and after Joel gave you a nod, you lead him downstairs into your kitchen.

You bent down to move your cleaning supplies out of the way and Joel swore his heart almost stopped, he could clearly see the outline of your ass and your privates as the lycra clung to every one of your curves. You stepped back and let Joel work again.

“Joel, can I please be really rude and excuse myself to go and take that bath? I need to clean up before I’m needed elsewhere. I really appreciate your help with this all and please feel free to let yourself out. I’ll pop by tomorrow with some beers!” You said sweetly.

“No worries at all, I won’t be long at all, sweetheart. Please don’t worry about the beers, it’s my pleasure. Honestly.” Joel spoke from under the sink as you left the kitchen to go back to your en suite.

Joel continued to work on your kitchen sink, it was a short job and he was soon finished. He heard the water stop running upstairs and once again, he scolded himself for letting his filthy thoughts run away from him. He imagined your body slipping into soapy water, the bubbles clinging to your breasts, your perky nipples inviting him to suck them into his mouth and your perfectly round ass glistening with the soapy water. He groaned to himself as he picked up his toolkit to leave, he briefly palmed his half-hard cock in his jeans and he was feeling so thankful that he had the house to himself that evening.

Whilst in the bath, you laid back into the enticing warm water and you let your thoughts run away from you. You imagined how Joel’s calloused fingers would feel buried deep in you, working your pussy closer to orgasming. You imagined how it would feel to be embraced by him before he pushed his dick deep into you until you were crying for him to stop. You physically shook your head and swallowed thickly, that right there, those thoughts, that’s exactly why you tried to keep your distance from the older male. He got under your skin and lit a fire deep in the pits of your belly. Silently, you were appreciative that you were so worked up because you knew it meant you would be giving your viewers a great show tonight.

The time soon came for you to start your live stream; you were wearing a lacy pink bra and matching panties; the bra had crisscross straps across your cleavage and your nipples showed through the sheer material.

“Evening guys,” you purred and gave a wave to your viewers. Whenever you streamed you work a masquerade mask to hide your identity and you always put a voice on; it was similar to your own but a little bit lower and more sultry. “How’s everyone’s day going today? I know I’m super excited to be here tonight.” You whined as your fingers toyed with your hardening nipples.

Your set up was simple, you usually sat on your bed at the beginning of streams before moving into all crude positions for your viewers; their comments and tips egging you to go further.

Comments started to flood in and it didn’t take long for you to lose your bra; you kept your panties and stockings on as the garment you chose for tonight was crotchless which mean you could toy with yourself without losing the sexy underwear.

You were laid back, your back was arched off the bed as you plunged your rabbit vibrator in and out, your thoughts swam with Joel and imagining it was him pleasuring you. Small moans tumbled from your lips as the noise of comments and monetary tips filled the room.

You were getting closer to having an orgasm and you didn’t know how long you could hold off for. Normally, when streaming, you would fake it a lot since it was a lot of effort to have orgasm after orgasm, especially for hours at a time; by now you had perfected the faking of one but not tonight. Your fingers pinched at your nipples and you shuddered on your toy as you worked yourself through it. You removed the toy and brought it up to your bare lips, you sucked it into your mouth and moaned.

“Wow, thank you Sunset331 for the $100 tip. I’ll be sure to send a picture your way after the stream.” You purred.

*Handyman47 Entered the Chat*

“Good evening, Handyman47. I hope you enjoy the show!” You called out and turned so the camera had a perfect view of your exposed ass and vagina. You pushed the toy back into yourself and whimpered at your overstimulation as you got right back into the quick rhythm.

—

Joel was frustrated, sexually and emotionally. He needed to relieve some of the stress that had built up this afternoon. He had always found you tempting and attractive but tried his hardest to ignore you whenever you came round. But there you were today, all perfect and tight, he was blinded by his arousal.

He laid back on his bed, his back pushed up against his pillows as he got his laptop out and started Googling adult-only sites that could help him along the way. He stumbled across a streaming site he hadn’t seen before, it looked decent enough so he quickly made an account and clicked onto one of the first streams he saw the thumbnail for.

The actress looked attractive enough for him to take the edge off and he thought somewhere in the back of his mind, that the body on his screen looked similar to yours but he pushed that sinister thought away and assumed it was because you had frustrated him so much earlier that day.

Then he heard the voice from his laptop, “Good evening, Handyman47. I hope you enjoy the show!” It clicked instantly in his brain, his eyes scanned the background of the room and he swallowed thickly.

Joel couldn’t help the way his cock twitched in his hand, he was already stroking himself and then he happened to stumble across you. He watched on as the toy disappeared into your hungry heat and would come out covered in your arousal, he groaned loudly from the back of his throat as his thumb swiped over his cock head and lubricated his length with his own pre-cum.

He knew he should close his laptop down and go and take a cool shower but he couldn’t tear his eyes off of his laptop screen, he looked out his window and could see yours; your curtains were drawn and there was a charming pink glow coming from behind them. Just like in your stream. He was so close to you, yet you had no idea just what he was doing a mere distance away from you or how crazy you drove him.

—

“Oh yeah, just like that daddy. Please don’t stop. Yeah.” You moaned, you had switched positions again. You were on your back and your sticky privates showed directly to the camera. Your juices were creamy and thick as you continued to push your toy into your hole. “Hmm, I think I should change to something bigger. I need a real man to come here and fill me up.” You purred and sat up to read the comments.

Handyman47: I volunteer, darlin’.

Sunset331: on my way, need u so bad

Jungleboy87: show us that needy pussy again. pls

You giggled as you read the comments, your tits hung in front of the camera as you did so but one caught your eye. Handyman47, surely it was a coincidence, no? Joel was around that age, that was his job and the fact he called you darling. Your throat went dry as you pondered the possibility of it being the older man from across the road.

You pushed that thought aside and grabbed your dildo off your bedside table; it was hot pink and a thick 10” in length, your biggest one to date.

“What do you think, guys? Do you reckon I can make it fit in my little hole?” You purred and ran it through your wet folds.

You pressed the tip of the toy into your hole and whimpered at the immediate stretch, slowly, you plunged it into yourself. The stretch of the toy stung and you closed yours eyes, imagining it was Joel filling you out like that.

Comments of encouragement flooded the chat once again and you smiled devilishly as you pulled the toy out to switch your position. You lifted the prop from the floor, it was a large piece of plastic that you used specifically for streaming, it allowed you to suction your toy to it and it meant you could ride it with ease.

“Oh fuck, daddy. You’re so big. Dunno if I can take it all like this.” You whimpered, straddling the toy and slowly pushing yourself down onto it.

You rode your toy, the pleasure already building up in your body and you clenched around it weakly as your thighs burned with the effort.

Joel watched on, his eyes fixated on his screen; he saw the way your tight pussy stretched around the toy and he pumped his cock enthusiastically with each rise and fall of your body. His tip was leaking pre-cum and he knew it wouldn’t be long until he was cumming into his palm over the sight of you fucking yourself.

“Gonna squirt all over your cock.” You shuddered and you meant it, it was how you ended your shows normally; one final blow out for the fans.

Your hand fumbled beside you as it reached for your bullet vibrator. You brought it to your clit and almost immediately you felt your orgasm come crashing through you, your hips faltered as your ground down onto the toy below you. You rose as your felt yourself gush around it, your juices splashed onto the toy and you couldn’t help the way your eyes screwed shut and a loud, shaky moan fell from your lips.

“Fuck, Joel.” You whimpered, your voice barely above a whisper.

He heard it. That was his name. Surely not. Joel watched as you continued to squirt, his cock throbbed and with one final pass of his hand, he came hard. Your name fell from his lips with a groan, he kept hearing the way you whimpered his name as you came on your toy over and over in his head and it made his spent dick jump as he milked himself of every last drop.

You shuddered as you removed the toy fully from yourself and discarded your bullet to the side of you after turning it off.

“Wow guys, I’ve made a massive mess here.” You giggled and slapped your sopping wet core once, the wetness apparent as your fingers tapped lightly.

Comments of appreciation were flooding through your chat and you grinned as you read each one.

“Thank you sooo much for tuning in guys, I won’t be streaming tomorrow but I’ll be back the day after. Thank you all so much for the support. I love you.” You cooed sweetly and blew a kiss to the camera before shutting the stream down to clean up after yourself.

—

You had slept soundly after last night’s stream; it was a busy one. All morning, whilst trying to do some admin work, all you could think of was that one username that stuck out to you… Handyman47. You were sure it just had to be a sick coincidence, your thoughts were clouded by lust in the moment and of course it wasn’t Joel. Why would he watch your stream? He didn’t find you attractive, that would just be ridiculous. That’s what you told yourself, anyway.

You finished up your work for the morning and decided to pop out to the store, to buy the beer you had promised Joel. It was a warm day so you dressed yourself in a sunflower-yellow sundress and flip flops, your hair was tied up messily.

Once you arrived home from the store, you parked your car up and made your way over to Joel’s house to give him the cool beers. It was a small gesture to say thank-you for the help, even if he insisted that he didn’t want them, it was the polite thing to do and you were raised with manners.

You raised your arm and placed a quick knock to the door, you were half-expecting to see Sarah’s gorgeous locks but instead you were met with Joel.

“No Sarah again?” You asked.

“She uh, she wanted to stay another night at her friend’s and well, you know how the kid is, how could I say no?! You disappointed to see me again, darlin’?” Joel joked with a smirk, although, oddly, he barely made eye contact with you.

You shrugged. “Eh, not quite my girl but you’ll do.” You joked and held the beers out for Joel. “Plus, she can’t exactly drink these. Not for a couple years anyway.” You winked.

“Or ever.” Joel replied dryly, catching your eyes this time. He took the pack of beers from you with a smile. “I’m tellin’ ya, you didn’t need to do this for me! It was a small favour. How ‘bout you come on in, we can crack open a beer together?” Joel asked, opening his door wider for you to step in.

“Oh I wouldn’t wanna impose, I bought them for you to enjoy. Don’t feel like you have to share!” You smiled.

Joel shook his head and gently took your wrist, to pull you inside. “Nonsense. You look like you’ve had a busy mornin’ and could do with a beer. Go ahead and make yourself comfy in the lounge, I’ll put these in the fridge and grab a couple.”

You obliged albeit reluctantly, you didn’t mind spending time with Joel but he drove you mad; just being in a close proximity to him like this drove you insane, you couldn’t act on what you wanted and it was torture. You sat down on the couch, crossed your legs and smoothed your dress down, the hem rested comfortably on your upper thigh, just teasing with a glimpse of your forbidden skin.

Joel entered the room and gave you a bottle of beer, you shot him a small thank you before taking a sip. He sat opposite you in his arm chair and let his legs sprawl out widely; he was wearing shorts and a tight-fitting t-shirt, the material hugging his biceps deliciously.

“How was your hot date last night?” Joel enquired innocently, pretending he didn’t know what you had been up to. “I’m sure I could hear you screamin’ from here.” He teased.

You laughed dryly and shot him a deathly glare which only made him chuckle. “Wasn’t a hot date, I was actually um, I was working.” You mumbled and stared into the neck of your bottle before drinking some more.

“That time of night? I thought you worked at that fancy little store in the city?” Joel asked, probing you further. He was treading on thin ice, either you were going to open up about what you were doing or you were going to lie through your teeth. He noticed the way you switched your legs over and shifted awkwardly in your seat.

“I uh — I have an extra job.” You shrugged, keeping your cards close to your chest. Joel had never really spent this much alone time with you, especially not to ask you this many questions. “How’s work going for you, a lot of jobs on at the moment?” You asked just trying to deflect the attention away from your work.

“Nope, you’ve got me intrigued, darlin’. What were you doing? What’s this extra job?”

You cringed, you placed your bottle on the table and hid your face behind your palms. “I — I model and perform on an adult-only site; I do live shows of porn, basically.” You admitted, your cheeks were glowing under your hands.

Joel watched as you hid your face, he bit back a smirk and watched as your embarrassment poured from you; it was wrong to admit, but it turned him on, to see you all embarrassed and flustered.

“Oh yeah, I know the ones.” Joel said casually, taking another drink with a shrug.

You peered through your fingers and your mind shot back to the username. Surely it wasn’t him. No.

“You, Joel Miller, are telling me you’re one of those creeps on the site?” You asked, raising an eyebrow up at him.

“Wouldn’t say I was a creep.” He stated bluntly. “I have needs darlin’, especially when my neighbour drives me mad all afternoon dressed in tight shorts or a sexy little dress.” His eyebrow was cocked upwards, testing the water to see exactly how you would react.

You put your hands on your lap, your mouth fell agape and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat again.

“Oh. I. Um. You?” You mumbled incoherently, your brain not working quickly enough to form an intelligible sentence which caused Joel to laugh. “You — you see anything on those sites of interest?” You asked quietly, your hands smoothing the fabric of your dress more out of nerves than to adjust the garment.

“Saw a nice little show last night…” Joel said quietly, he stood from his seat; you could see the vague outline of his thickening cock in his shorts and your privates throbbed. “Thought I recognised the room…” he said, sitting down next to you. “But then I thought, no, it couldn’t be that good little girl that lives next to me. Not with the way she was performing, doing such a good job at taking in her toys.”

Joel was closing the space next to you, you could feel the weight of his body next to you and his fingers tucked a few strands of hair behind your ear. It was a tender movement and it made you shiver physically under his touch. You avoided making eye contact with him, you were sure this was just a joke and he was teasing you for your extracurricular job.

“Look at me.” Joel demanded, his lips were by your ear now, they just ghosted over the area and you shook your head. “Look. At. Me.” Joel said more sternly and his voice was dropped impossibly low.

His hand held your bare knee, his fingers teasing to travel just under your dress and you finally bared to look at him. Your eyes were wide in shock, your chest heaved slightly with your more laboured breaths and small beads of sweat collected on your neck.

“It was you…” you whispered to which Joel just smirked. “Son of a bitch. You’re a dirty old man, Mr Miller.” You teased, still feeling nervous under his watchful gaze and touch.

“Is that why you whimpered out my name as you squirted on your toy? Cause I’m a dirty old man?” Joel asked, his voice dripping with sheer confidence.

“I — no I didn’t.” You huffed.

Joel squeezed the delicate skin of your thigh and you made a pathetic noise from the back of your throat before you tried to swallow it back.

“I heard it.” Joel said smugly. “God, made me cum so hard on myself to hear you calling out my name.” He groaned, thinking back to his activities from last night.

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to call out your name, I didn’t think anyone heard me. Please don’t tell anyone about my extra job.” You whined as Joel’s hand slid up under your dress slightly, his fingers brushed past your clothed heat and your eyes dipped shut for a second.

“How about I show you how good I feel compared to those pieces of plastic.” Joel whispered.

“Please.” You breathed and bucked your hips upwards, searching for the feel of Joel’s fingers.

Joel silently got off the sofa, you wanted to whine and bring him back so you could feel his large frame next to you again. Before you could react, the older male was sinking to his knees in front of you and was holding your thighs firmly.

“Wanted to taste you from the day you moved in next door.” Joel stated and your cheeks flushed at his admission.

He pushed the fabric of your dress up, you took the hint and was quick to discard it to the side of you. Your breasts were freed from the fabric and Joel groaned deeply as he drank in your naked form. He held your thighs again and he pulled you forward so your panties were closer to his face which caused you to yelp.

“Look at you. Fuck.” Joel cursed as he let one of his fingers trail across the wet fabric of your panties. “You wet already for me? Thought you woulda got it outta your system last night.” Joel teased with a knowing smirk as your shuddered against his gentle touch.

“Are you gonna chat up my vagina all afternoon or are you gonna show me how much better you are than my toys?” You snapped with a bratty smile.

“I won’t give you anything if you talk to me like that. Now be a good girl and shut up for me, yeah?” Joel bit back, his voice full of condescension which admittedly, only fuelled your arousal further.

You rolled your eyes and just as you opened your mouth to argue back with the man, he pulled your panties to the side and let one of his fingers sink into your heat roughly. You threw your head back and your fingers gripped at the fabric of Joel’s t-shirt, the sudden action throwing you off.

Joel twisted his digit to curl it inside of you before he removed it again, causing you to whine angrily at him. You lifted your head to grumble but instead you were silenced as you locked eyes with him; he brought his wet finger to his lips and sucked it in with a soft moan. Your lips parted in silent shock as Joel sucked your arousal into his mouth, moaning like it was the finest food he had ever eaten.

“Taste so sweet, princess. Best thing I’ve ever tasted.” He groaned, finally removing your panties from your privates. As you lifted your hips to allow the man more access, he noticed how evident your arousal was, you were near dripping onto his sofa and his mouth watered. “I’m going to eat you out now and I won’t stop until you squirt right into my mouth, so how about you be a good girl and do that for me.” Joel said sternly.

You nodded dumbly; no man had ever spoken to you this way before, at least, no man you truly wanted. Without another word, Joel dipped his head down and licked a fat stripe up through your folds. You moaned softly, the noise was delicate and sincere, a complete contrast to how you sounded coming from his laptop screen last night. Your body shuddered against the sofa and your fingers had weaved their way into Joel’s salt and pepper hair; his soft locks entangled with your digits. You gently tugged at his hair causing the male to make a gruff noise into your folds, the vibrations rippled through you and you moaned again.

Joel sucked your clit into his mouth, the sensitive bud was already throbbing with the male’s previous efforts and as soon as his lips suctioned around it your back was arching off his sofa. The old couch creaked under your body as your contorted your back when Joel’s tongue flicked over your clit.

“Fuck me!” You cursed, one of your hands leaving Joel’s head to pathetically grip at the edge of the sofa for further stability.

“Later,” Joel mumbled into your wet pussy.

You let out a breathy chuckle; your head was swimming, your thighs were shaking with the pleasure as Joel continued to work his tongue expertly over your clit and occasionally to dip down into your hole. You felt your orgasm start to bubble lowly in the depths of your belly, just a gentle simmer as Joel licked at you like a man who had been starved.

As if he read your mind of wanting more, Joel brought two fingers up to your hole; he barely dipped them into you and you whimpered weakly. He pushed one finger in, just barely up to his knuckle before he withdrew it and licked over your clit again, the tip of his tongue flicking at it gently.

“Please.” You pleaded with a weak and shaking voice.

Joel looked up at you; his dark pupils were blown with lust and he smirked as he let both fingers push into you, again, barely going past his first knuckles. He twisted his fingers in you and pushed them in fully until the palm of his hand met your body. You let out a loud gasp as your eyes fluttered shut and like a perfectly-timed dance, Joel flicked his tongue across your clit once again.

“Fucking Christ, shit.” You cursed, your voice loud and sharp as Joel worked his fingers rhythmically into you.

Joel laughed softly against you as he plunged his fingers into you again and again. He wrapped his lips around your clit again and suckled at the bud softly as his fingers worked into you quickly. Your orgasm came crashing down, you barely had time to register it as Joel worked his fingers quicker, he curled them upwards and they bumped the spongy spot inside of you that had screams tumbling from your lips.

“G-gonna,” is all you managed to get out, the room was filled with your moans and the obscene wet noise of your arousal as Joel fingered you with fervour.

“That’s it,” Joel cooed. “Good girl, cum for me. Soak me, need it.” He moaned as he pulled his mouth off of your clit but kept his face near and he replaced it with his thumb.

The different sensation threw you off momentarily but it was too late and your orgasm ripped through your body, it drew a long moan from your throat; the noise was animalistic and raw and it echoed through the room. Joel removed his fingers and with that, you let go and whimpered as you gushed onto Joel’s face, he lapped up your juices and you shuddered through your orgasm. Joel watched as your pussy clenched and fluttered around air, the aftershocks of your orgasm evident as you writhed in your spot.

“Look at you.” He sighed happily, watching you still. “Even better than on the screen, so perfect, so beautiful.”

You blushed as his words and you weakly let go of his hair your legs were still quaking as he let go of them, you slumped against his sofa; completely unashamed of your naked state compared to Joel’s fully dressed one. He stood and the outline of his hard cock was evident in his light shorts, there was a darkened wet patch and your mouth watered at the thought he got that turned on by pleasuring you.

“Come here and taste yourself on me.” Joel breathed, taking your cheek to pull you in for a bruising kiss.

You held onto Joel’s arms as he kissed you, his tongue trailed over your bottom lip and greedily you sucked it into your mouth, urging him to explore every crevice of your mouth. You made a small noise of appreciation as your mouth was flooded with the taste of Joel mixed with the tang of your own arousal.

“Fuck me already. Please.” You breathed against Joel’s face, momentarily breaking the kiss.

“How do you wanna take me, darlin’?” He asked.

“However you wanna give it to me.” You retorted with a smirk.

“Get on your knees on the couch, stick your ass up for me and show me that pretty little cunt.” He growled lowly and you obliged happily, doing as he said.

You positioned yourself so your chest was pressed to the back of the sofa and you allowed Joel full access to yourself. You wiggled your ass as you heard Joel toss his shorts to the side haphazardly.

“All for me now, huh?” Joel asked, his hands mauled at the skin of your ass and spread your cheeks, he took his length and pressed the tip into your hole, before you knew it, it was gone again and he slapped it gently at your oversensitive clit. “Tell me how bad you want it.” He hissed, running his cock through your wet folds, nudging your clit with each pass.

“Please, Joel. I want it so bad, never needed a cock so bad in my life, you already made me feel better than any of my toys or the boys I’ve fucked before put together. Please give me your cock, wanna feel your cum fill me up so bad. P-please.” You whined, your voice coming out as small, wrecked sobs as Joel continued to rub his cock over you.

“Good girl.” He praised and without warning be bottomed out inside of you, you moaned loudly; a perfect blend of pleasure and pain rippled through your veins as Joel brushed some hair from your face so he could evaluate your emotions.

He rubbed your ass with his palm and landed a bruising slap to it, you moaned and threw your head back in pleasure. Joel took that opportunity to pull his hips back, to pull out of you fully; he passed his cock through your soaked pussy lips once again. Your mouth opened to complain but before a single noise could leave your mouth, he was pushing back into your greedy heat without warning.

“So. Fucking. Tight.” Joel groaned, accentuating each of his words with a hard thrust of his cock.

He built up a harsh pace, your fingers turned white as they gripped at the fabric of the sofa below you. You were sure if you held on any tighter then the fabric would surely rip under you. Your body prickled as if a hundred needles were touching your skin, your stomach knotted as you felt another orgasm working it’s way through you. Your walls fluttered around Joel and your legs wobbled as you tried to stay grounded as his thick cock nudged that sweet spot inside of you.

“G-gonna, gonna…” You whimpered, your eyes screwing shut.

“Mmhm, that’s it. Atta girl, cum on my cock. Tell me how good it feels, princess.” Joel whispered, leaning forward so his body was pressed to yours.

“Fuck!” You cursed, teetering on the edge of your orgasm. “Feels so good, n-never felt this good before. Making me feel drunk on your cock, gonna need it again and again and again. Please give it to me. Please. So good.” You rambled, words falling from your lips carelessly as Joel fucked you into your orgasm.

His thick but nimble digits wound their way around you to fall to your clit, he circled the bud perfectly and it had your head swimming. It was the thing you needed to push you over the edge; you felt as if you had fallen from a cliff, just floating in midair as Joel worked you through it. Moans of profanity and his name fell from your parted lips as you came around the man’s cock, your walls clenched him and held him tightly.

Seemingly, that was what sent Joel over the edge, his hips faltered and he thrust into you once more, much weaker this time. His cock twitched in your walls and with a groan, and his hands squeezing your hips roughly, he came deep inside of you. You whimpered as your body went limp; Joel’s hot cum filled you and it made you clench weakly around him, your greedy hole trying to suck him in deeper still.

“Fuck me.” You whispered, your ass still on display for the older man as he pulled out of you with a wince.

“Just did that, darlin’.” He laughed breathlessly, trying to gain composure once again.

You rolled your eyes, was typical Joel to state that when clearly it was a rhetorical state meant as a throwaway.

“I should um, well I should pop to the bathroom to quickly clean up and then get out of your hair.” You said, somewhat awkwardly as you stood shakily from the sofa and held your thighs together tightly.

Less than a minute ago, the man’s cock had been inside of you and now that the thick tension and lust had cleared the air you couldn’t help but feel a little bit awkward about it.

“Stay?” Joel asked. “I mean, I wasn’t really done with you yet.” He grinned boyishly and you couldn’t help but smile at him. “Just an idea, darlin’ but how about we go shower and clean up and order some food. We still got more beers to get through. Then, I’m sure if you’re a really good girl, I could give you my cock again.” His hand was stroking up and down your arm, his fingers tickled your skin and in their wake they left goosebumps.

You looked up at Joel, into his deep brown eyes and you nodded with a grin.

“Deal. But you’re paying for the food, you ol’ perv.” You teased with a giggle.

“Get upstairs.” Joel said with a roll of his eyes.

You laughed to yourself again as you walked away, to go upstairs only to yelp loudly when Joel came up behind you and placed a light tap to your ass and rushed in front of you.

“You’re dead, Miller.” You called and chased up behind him to return the favour.

———————————————————————

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#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel x reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal

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lupunsus · 2 years ago

Text

lots of people like bunny hybrid, but I already have Gorou so I'll expand more on Tighnari so the fucker will come home.

based on genshin hybrid au by @cinnamonest

warning: ashamed novice writer writes bad smut, tighnari drugs, manipulates, and almost eats reader several times while treating them like a living fleshlight as well as emergency food. Reader is also degraded because he thinks you're a dumb bunny who can't do anything themselves :(

In a previous post, I left off on the cute floppy eared bunny, obliviously eating an aphrodisiac flower, which makes Tighnari throw all senses out of the window and act on his predatory instincts.

Of course, as a fennec fox, he had to have a taste of your blood first. What's the harm in biting down a little too hard on those cute ears of yours? Don't cry. You clearly wanted someone to breed you. Why else would you eat such a thing in his garden? Even if you didn't know, it's too late to go back now. As a fennec fox, he already saw you as his mate. And his kind mates for life. Do yours too? It doesn't matter. Tighnari will keep you in his den far away from the humans, in a nest he lovingly made for you, and you alone.

You should be thankful he chose you. Nobody else will be able to satiate you when he conducts his specialized research focused on how your body reacts to being his mate.

For now, he can't get enough of the feeling of your little insides suffocating him. It's a bit hard to get his knot in, but it must mean it's your first time. He'd reassure you and be more gentle, but it won't be long until the flower takes effect and turns you into a stupid whore begging for his knot. Ah, but should he call you that? You're just an innocent bunny who knows nothing of the human language. It isn't your fault that you were born without ever receiving an upbringing similar to what he had.

Tighnari would think of it as a sad thing, as maybe if you had an ounce of knowledge, you'd know better to assume he wouldn't devour an adorable thing like you are. He bets you don't even have a name or an identity. He'll teach you to address yourself as "Tighnari's Mate." The only name you'll ever need as the only place you'll be is by his side, coupling to his heart's content.

You don't understand the feeling of something trying to force its way into you.

At first, it hurt so much. Even worse than how hard he'd bite into your skin and tear it with his claws. It wasn't hard for him to mark his new territory as you were bare for everyone to see. But it was because you didn't need clothes! You were a wild animal, of course, and they'd be unconventional to wear if you needed to escape. Would it have been better to have something to cover you? Just to help shield yourself from the onslaught of his attacks? Why did it start to feel good? Like a feeling of pleasure and content. An itch that's finally been scratched.

When Tighnari finally forced his knot inside, you came.

This was your first time having this kind of experience, and it was exhausting. Not even the flower could keep you from passing out. It didn't matter to Tighnari, too drunk on how absolutely tight you became, the feeling of being smothered within your warm insides driving him crazy. He emptied his load into you soon after, sinking his teeth and claws into your flesh while he rode out his high. If this is how it felt to breed you, he really had to control the predatory urge to eat you.

His private quarters weren't too far. He mainly uses it when he's going through his ruts or when he absolutely can not be bothered. But it only means he can enjoy the feeling of keeping his knot inside without anyone walking in on the two of you. It crossed his mind before on whether someone would see you being bred out in the open by him, but after experiencing your sweet, delicious body, Tighnari was willing to take the risk. But you looked as though a wild animal got to you, so he would be in big trouble as it looked as though he fucked you while you were injured, but it was obvious that those were "love bites" by his design.

It's good he knows how to patch someone up. Such a cute bunny like you deserves to be kept. He can teach you how to be a good mate in his standard. What the different chirps he makes mean, how to tell his mood based on his body language, how to kiss him, his favourite position to take you in,

Ah, he's beginning to get hard again. You wouldn't mind taking in some more of his love while he bandages and licks your wounds clean, would you? Of course not. You're his beloved mate. Leaving him isn't a choice either, not when he can just make it so that you're too drugged to even walk properly. To have you crave him as much as he hungers for you. Just thinking about the future he has planned for the two of you is enough to bring him to the edge once more.

Tighnari thinks he can get used to this lifestyle.

You, on the other hand, can't even remember your life before meeting your mate.

Being so weak and unable to walk for long, he was attentive to all of your needs. It makes you feel useless to see him do things you're supposed to do, but he insists that he wants to do them. Reassuring you lovingly by nuzzling against you and whispering some words that you didn't understand. It's okay, though. The only words you need to know are the ones he teaches you. From calling him your "beloved mate" to breathily moaning out the filthiest things that will get him going.

Tighnari is always kind enough to give you "love marks" as well. Even if they hurt at first, they are meant to represent how much he loves you, as they remain on your body for long periods of time. And when they start to disappear, he leaves more, sometimes biting down to the point where you think he'll eat you alive. It's okay, some panicked squeaks and "Mm! H-Hurts..." Will snap him out of the trance. He always feels so guilty until he licks at the wound. The taste of your blood is so sweet to him. It's addicting.

The only way to get him to realize his precious little bunny is also his one and only mate is to try to intertwine your fingers with his own. Tighnari taught you that it's what mates do to tell each other that their love is true and will last forever.

"For, rever?" You curiously asked one day, looking up at him during another breeding session. He almost came then and there from how adorable you looked, but managed to stop himself and halt his movements. "Even after your eyes close for a long time." Was his response, but it was more of a reminder to himself to rein his instincts in when he gets too far. He's taught you to trust and love him unconditionally. Even if he were to eat you alive someday, you'd still look at him with hazy and unfocused eyes filled with love and adoration.

He's drugged you to rely on him and only him, to see him as your mate. Tighnari knows that if anyone were to see you two now, you'd be taken away from him, as people would see this entire relationship as toxic and inhumane. But without him, you'd probably be in the hands of some degenerate pervert who couldn't even experience sex with a fellow human. To him, though, you weren't something to be used, but something that provided nourishment to both his body and soul.

And if you were to be moved away from him, he'd be no better than other hybrids that developed an attachment to their masters. After all, no matter how many times Tighnari may use you as he pleases, and how incapacitated he's made you with drugs, you are the only thing that can bring Tighnari to his knees.

It contradicts the way he treats you, but he truly wishes to see you happy while in his care. Even if you're not in the proper state of mind to realize that all of this is wrong and against your nature. That you have to run away from this man and live in a completely different country just to feel safe. But when he considers gradually decreasing the amount of drugs he has you on, he fears that the heaven he made for the two of you will completely disappear. And he'll have to eat you so the two of you can truly be together forever.

Tighnari has a feeling that a close friend of his knows about the secret he's kept from the other forest rangers, but seeing your tuckered out form laying in your shared nest, he decides that his friend would've stopped him a long time ago if they felt that his actions were truly wrong. But he can't help but consider a life with just you. The Withering has stopped appearing, and Collei's disease has been cured. Would it be ok to live in seclusion and succumb to his animal instincts?

"Mate..." You're calling out for him even in your dreams. He thinks you know when he's lost in his thoughts, as your actions bring him back to the present. Tighnari always sleeps with your naked bodies pressed closed together, to the point where one could consider it an attempt to strangle them. But you're used to it. Your body can tell when he doesn't have a protective grip on you, and you get really pouty in the mornings. He thinks it's adorable and apologizes by emptying several loads of his love into your body.

As Tighnari presses himself closer, nuzzling and licking at your cheeks, he wonders if he can make a potion that'll make you start lactating. When he succeeds, he'll consider finding a way to make you give birth to a healthy litter. And if there really is no way to make you compatible with his seed, he'll just fuck you enough times so your tummy stays round and full of him.

He doesn't mind pretending you're pregnant with his pups

#genshin au #genshin x gn reader #genshin x reader #hybrid au #.lurots #genshin hcs #genshin impact x reader #hybrid #yandere genshin #.luspicy #tighnari x gn reader #tighnari x reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere tighnari #yandere tighnari x reader #genshin smut

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thisgirlnamedblusy · 1 month ago

Note

Your writing is very pretty and I’m amazed at all your stories! This one is a mixed bag of sad feelings, and hopeful wishes ahah but -

What if Donna and female reader have been in a relationship for some time now and are very comfortable together. But lately Donna has been putting in less effort in the relationship. Reader spoils Donna, does most of the cooking, makes time for Donna, tries to do all of the things Donna likes and whenever Donna wants something or feels Reader could do better Reader tries to be better because she loves Donna. This used to be an effort they were both doing, but lately it feels like Donna is withdrawn and isolating from Reader and barely even speaks to her no matter what Reader tries to do. They don’t even make love anymore or cuddle. Eventually Reader begins to get a bit used to this and a bit sad and withdrawn from feeling like she is the one maintaining their relationship. After an encounter with Alcina, in which something happens that shows Donna that Reader is desirable to other people, and someone else is willing to put in the effort to make Reader happy, Donna FINALLY sees what this isolating behavior has been doing to them and makes a tremendous effort to show Reader she cares. All of the romantic gestures (flowers, spoiling Reader, writing her love letters, all sorts of romantic things), and a tremendous effort to seduce Reader and make her swoon in Donna’s arms while Donna makes sure that Reader knows she is loved and belongs only with Donna.

Ending in a romantic, and smutty scene possibly with a G!P Donna if you’re comfortable with that.

Again, your writing is tremendous and I’m excited to read every new one you make!

- A very tired Reader

Yesssss!!!!! Thank you for your kind words, and for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :)))))))

A bucket of flowers

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: G!P Donna, a bit of smut, Minors DNI, angst, fluff, Donna being Donna

Word count: 8,747

Summary: Who is sending you those beautiful flowers?

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!!I love you all!!!

It might seem like it was a night like any other and it certainly was, but for you no day was the same as the previous one, they were all different, endless opportunities and occasions to show her the love you felt.

“Oh, the fool made a cake, congratulations,” the Angie doll mocked, keeping you company in your long cooking sessions.

“It's not a cake, my friend, it's the cake, do you understand?” you asked with a smile and a raised eyebrow, decorating that culinary masterpiece.

“Oh… The cake…” the puppet murmured, staring at you while you checked that everything was perfect. “It doesn't seem special to me.”

“Well… You should know that it's Donna's favorite cake,” you said with a smile, taking off your apron, ready to enjoy what you always saw as a romantic dinner, a special occasion for the two of you.

“Ugh, there you go with your cheesy stuff again…” the doll protested, moving away from the cake, with a softer tone.

“I like to spoil Donna, is there a problem?” you asked amused, taking the cake and walking out of the kitchen, with the doll following you closely.

“I guess there isn’t,” Angie said, shrugging and comically moving ahead of you, almost making you trip.

Humming happily you went up the elevator, where the lady was waiting for you sitting at the table with that same serious expression, one that you had been struggling to change for a long time.

“Why did you take so long?” Donna asked as you approached slowly.

Normally those words didn't have that hoarse, listless tone, that horrible tone you hated and thought you would never hear again.

“I'm sorry, honey, I was just making this,” you said, ignoring her impatience and showing the cake to the woman in black, who glanced at it as you set it down on the table. “Do you like it?”

“Mm,” she murmured, nodding listlessly and starting to eat without waiting for you.

At first it was hard for you to get used to Donna's lack of manners, her apparent lack of interest in everything you did but... Little by little, you understood that it was your new routine.

“I followed your advice and I was very careful with the sugar,” you commented, sitting in front of her, who didn't even make an effort to look you in the eyes.

“Sure,” Donna murmured, serving you a glass of wine with a tired sigh.

“Yes... Uh... I hope, I hope you like the soup,” you said with a shy smile, seeing how she seemed to ignore every phrase you said, without stopping eating.

Her face sketched a brief smile, but long enough for your spirit to calm down and you began to eat too, observing every gesture the brunette made.

Dinner passed in silence, exchanging glances from time to time. They were indecipherable, confused and flat glances. Her bright eye said nothing, yours were always happy to coincide with it.

Your smile was indelible. It didn't matter the silence that for you became more and more uncomfortable. You knew that in front of you was the woman of your life.

“How did you spend your day? You haven't left the workshop today,” you commented distractedly, attracting Donna's attention.

“I had a lot of work,” she said in a whispery voice, barely paying attention to you.

“Oh, of course,” you said amused, playing with the spoon. “I'm not surprised,”

“Mm,” the lady murmured again, taking a sip of wine, making that she didn't feel like talking clear to you, something that was becoming more and more frequent.

“Yes, um...” you said confused, unable to get one of those eternal conversations, a smile that lasted longer, something from Donna that wasn't a tired sigh. “Do you have more orders than usual?”

“No,” she replied curtly, leaving the glass on the table and finishing her soup.

You smiled fakely nodding, feeling frustrated by these incipient slights.

“Oh, um, okay…” you sighed, deciding that maybe it would be better to remain silent.

“I've been very late, (Y/N), and it may have something to do with your insistence of wanting to go for a walk,” she said, with a soft but internally hard tone.

“Don't you like walking with me? The walk last week seemed very romantic to me,” you said, biting your lip and reaching out to take her hand, caressing it gently.

Luckily, that time she didn't push it away, in fact, reluctantly, she briefly returned your caress. Her face, once again, showed a tired smile.

“I like walking with you, but I'm neglecting my work,” Donna said, taking her hand away and sighing before getting up from the table. “I'm really tired today, (Y/N), I'm going to bed.”

“Wait, Donna,” you interrupted, getting up too and grabbing her wrist, turning the lady slowly. “The, the cake, aren't you going to try it?”

“Ugh,” she protested, frowning and rolling her eye. “Maybe tomorrow, put it in the fridge.”

“But Donna…” you said with sad eyes, comically pulling her hand. “I've spent three hours in the kitchen, I made it just for you…”

“I didn't ask you, (Y/N),” she said, shaking her head, looking at you in annoyance and taking her hand away from yours. “That you've spent three hours cooking it's not my problem.”

“Donna…” you sighed again, with an even sadder look. “But, but it's your favorite… I…” you stammered on the verge of sobbing, your eyes slowly filling with tears. “Donna…”

The lady in black sighed, gently caressing your face with a more relaxed expression, lifting your chin.

“Va bene, tesoro…” she finally said, approaching your lips and kissing them coldly, sitting back down. “Serve me a piece, but a small one.”

You smiled happily, jumping for joy and kissing her again repeatedly until her hands stopped you.

“Lasciami, lasciami, per favore,” the lady protested, waving her hands effusively while you walked away with shy giggles.

“A small piece…” you murmured as you cut the cake, serving her the exact amount she wanted and which she accepted with a tired look. “Come on, try it,” you said insistently, serving yourself another piece.

The lady tasted it reluctantly, savoring it and nodding slowly.

“How is it? Say something,” you said enthusiastically, checking for yourself that you had done a good job, significantly better than other times.

“It's very good, (Y/N),” Lady Beneviento commented, quickly devouring her piece and standing up again. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome…” you sighed with a loving smile. “But, but, is it sugary enough?”

“I said it's good,” Donna interrupted with a stern voice. “Why don't you pick this up?”

“But, I… Well, okay, okay,” you said, your smile fading little by little, your heart slightly hurt but at the same time resilient. “Then we could watch a movie and…”

“How many times do you want me to tell you? I'm very tired, I'm going to bed, you can do whatever you want,” Donna said, turning on her heels and leaving you alone and open-mouthed.

No matter how harsh her words were, you accepted them with a half- smile. Sighing, you began to clear the table and, unwillingly, you thought about what your life was like just a few months ago, how different it was.

Meeting Donna Beneviento was a coincidence, one of those coincidences that mark the path of your life. The youngest of the four Lords was also the most mysterious, the most dangerous.

You never cared about danger, or risks. You were a young girl, kind-hearted, what harm could do to talk to that woman in black, to help her when her doll got stuck in some bushes?

If you do good things, good things will happen to you, or so your family said. They weren't wrong at all. The best thing that ever happened to you in life was meeting her, learning to see the light in the darkness of her presence.

The whole village feared her, considered her a terrible and cruel monster. But none of that appeared in your feelings as you got a little closer, as you got to know her a little better.

Lady Beneviento was a sick woman, self-conscious about the deformity of her face, about what the gift of the Black Gods caused in her body. She kept herself isolated, completely alone. A hermit, a ghost, someone no one wanted to get close to.

But you appeared in her life, you smiled at her, you saw her kind side, her words of affection, her shy laugh… None of those were characteristics of a monster, and her appearance, of course, was not one either.

Donna was a beautiful woman, no scar, no change could make you think otherwise. Without expecting it, but at the same time wishing for it, love arose between you.

It was a sudden, romantic, wild love… It could even seem that the romance novels you read so much had come to life in your own reality. Love, caresses, whispers, passion, hugs… Everything formed your relationship, a comfortable one, one that you finally felt good about, one that you didn’t want to disappear.

Lady Beneviento loved you, she adored you, even those overly strong feelings made her behave in a slightly possessive way. You never gave it importance, you knew you didn't have to, you had already decided.

You had decided what smile you wanted to accompany you every morning, what warm body you wanted to melt with every night, what perfume you had chosen to cloud your senses.

Love continued and your relationship was stable. It had been more than a year since you decided to take that important step, stop visiting her and stay with her forever. Everything was perfect, idyllic, at least until a couple of months ago.

The love, those smiles, those caresses, the hugs, the passion… Everything was fading away little by little. Donna was the same and at the same time she was becoming someone different. It was increasingly difficult to get a smile out of her, to get her to return the hundreds of kisses you gave. You didn't want to think like that but… It seemed like you were bothering her, that she had gotten tired of you.

But that wasn't possible, she still told you that she loved you, that she liked you being by her side. It wasn't laziness, it was something else… It was as if the dark part of her mind had taken control, as if she saw you as a nuisance, a distraction that kept her from her old way of being.

There were no more kisses, no more caresses, no more hugs, only smiles, very brief kisses, sighs of weariness and cold words. You, of course, couldn't be the one to blame. From the first moment you didn't do anything that didn't make her happy.

You cooked her favorite dishes, you learned recipes that she told you about, you cleaned the house, you kept everything perfect for her, so a ‘thank you’ would come out of her lips, so those kisses would return.

None of that happened. Donna seemed to have abandoned you, even when she was by your side. It was increasingly difficult for her to talk to you. It was almost as if you didn't exist. But you never questioned it, you simply got used to that new behavior.

You couldn't think that Donna didn't love y. You knew that wasn't the case. Spoiling her, showering her with compliments, with romantic gestures, was your way of desperately clinging to a jaded love that you had already grown accustomed to, until little by little, sadness began to haunt you in your increasingly frequent moments alone.

You would do anything for her, always, but you began to wonder if she would do the same for you.

You picked up the plates, put away that delicious cake and got ready to get into bed next to her. You didn't expect her to greet you with a smile, not even with that mischievous look she had always looked at you with at bedtime. No, she had already fallen asleep.

“Donna, my love,” you said softly, getting into bed next to her, kissing her cheek.

The lady in black, as usual, growled annoyed, turning her back to you.

“Weren't you watching a movie?” she asked with a tired voice, comically covering herself with the sheets.

You smiled and shook your head, moving closer to her ear.

“It's not fun without you,” you said, biting her earlobe and laughing amused. “Hey, Donna, I feel like making love…” you whispered, lowering your hands and pulling her waist.

The doll maker moved her body to make you move away. You, already knowing that impatient gesture, did it.

“Not today,” she said, turning her head away from your rain of kisses. “Another day, (Y/N)”

“Okay…” you sighed sadly, leaning on the pillow with another controlled sob.

Donna, who was always terribly passionate, fierce in love, in possessing you in a carnal way whenever possible, now didn’t want to do it, she just made stupid excuses.

It wasn’t the most important thing for you, but you knew how much she enjoyed taking you.

You did everything you could to keep the passion alive, to hold on to that relationship, but you felt that the weight on your shoulders was too intense, that there was no one on the other side to help you handle that burden.

It was the effort to not extinguish love, an effort that only you made and that would soon make you sink into a depression you could already feel calling you from the depths of your soul.

You tried to forget those moments, to cuddle up next to her as you did every night. Not even that seemed to be acceptable to the brunette, who growled again, removing your hands from her body.

“Leave me alone,” she whispered furiously.

“I'm sorry,” you said, with a voice eaten away by the tears that were beginning to fall down your cheeks. “I'm sorry if I bothered you.”

Donna sighed after a moment of silence, sitting up and touching your shoulder.

“Come here,” she whispered, turning around and grabbing your waist gently, as if she wanted not to be that cruel, as if deep down, she was also noticing your incipient sadness.

“Thank you…” you sighed with a sincere smile, approaching her body, letting her surround you with her warmth.

The slights hardly mattered to you. Donna always did something that told your heart not to stop beating, that you could continue to be terribly in love with the lady in black. The question was simple: How long could you stay that way?

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Donna said with a different voice, pressing you against her body. You glanced at her out of the corner of your eye, enjoying her warmth. “Tomorrow Alcina will come to have lunch.”

“Tomorrow? But Donna… Tomorrow is the day of our meal on the river,” you protested, playing erratically with her fingers that were clinging to your waist.

“Mm…” she sighed in a way that indicated she was rolling her eye. “Leave it for another day, will you? I don't like her coming either but I'm afraid I have no other choice. She often invites us to her castle.”

“Yeah, well, you never want to go anyway,” you sighed, with an anger that was beginning to be noticeable in your voice. Donna, as always, didn't give it any importance.

“I'd rather be here, with you,” the lady said in an apparently romantic way.

“You're not with me, you spend the day with your dolls, you even…” you said furiously, turning around and crossing your arms.

“I'm with you all day long.”

“Okay, whatever you say, Donna,” you said, turning around again, removing her warm hands from your body. “Good night.”

“Buonanotte…” the lady whispered, kissing you quickly on the cheek and turning around as well.

If you were told a few months ago that your bodies no longer intertwined at bedtime… You would probably think it was a dirty lie.

The next day started like any other. You devoted all your energy to preparing a perfect breakfast that Donna no longer appreciated. The kisses under the shower were no longer intense, they were brief, half-hearted.

Maybe it was your imagination, or maybe not.

While you were cooking a delicious menu for your unexpected guest, you asked yourself that question, one that you avoided asking yourself and that you could no longer contain: did Donna really love you?

“Is all for me, dear?” Lady Dimitrescu asked, surprised by each of the details that you meticulously prepared.

You, pleased by her words, smiled sincerely. It had really been a long time since you heard Donna say something like that.

“Everything looks great, little bird,” Alcina murmured, while you sat next to Donna, who was covered with her black veil, as always when there was someone other than you.

“Thank you, my lady,” you said smiling, pouring yourself a glass of wine.

“My lady… Little girl… We are almost family…” the lady in white sighed, stabbing a piece of meat with her fork. “Call me Alcina.”

“Alcina, yes, of course,” you said kindly.

The three of you began to eat in silence until a satisfying grunt bounced off the old walls of the mansion.

“Oh, dear… It's spectacular,” the vampire said, pointing at you with her fork. “Mashed potatoes with gravy?”

“Yes, well, it's a recipe I used to make,” you commented, destroying the silence that usually accompanied you. “Donna likes it…”

“I see,” Alcina said, nodding with a seductive look. “Donna, you are very lucky.”

“Mm,” the veiled lady murmured, eating in silence, looking at you briefly through her black cloth.

“Mm?” her sister mocked. “Please, not in a million years would I be able to get one of my maids to cook like this.”

“Oh,” you said, laughing amused and blushing at that appreciation. “I love cooking, besides, Donna has taught me a lot of delicious recipes from her country.”

“I can't compete against that, huh?” the tall lady joked, arching her eyebrows. “Um, I see the house is a bit… different,” she commented, observing the cracked walls. “Oh, Donna, don’t tell me you’ve finally lost that absurd allergy to cleaning.”

“No, (Y/N) takes care of the house,” the woman in black said, with a rough and disinterested voice.

“Does she?” Alcina asked, narrowing her eyes and looking at you with a wicked smile. “Do you have a sister?”

“I’m afraid I haven’t, Alcina,” you said kindly, serving the lady another glass of wine. “I like to clean. I love seeing your sister happy.”

“Wow… You are lucky,” Dimitrescu murmured, now looking at her taciturn sister.

“I guess so,” Donna whispered, taking the bottle of wine from you in an unpleasant manner and leaving it on the table.

“Mm, I see…” Dimitrescu murmured again, rolling her eyes. “(Y/N), would you be interested in working at the castle?”

“No, she’s not interested,” Donna said, angrily hitting the table with her fists, scaring you a bit. “(Y/N), dessert.”

The expression of the lady in white cooled and she frowned, watching you as, in an almost perfect way, you slid the knife through the cake you made the day before, the one Donna failed to appreciate.

“Cheesecake with raspberry jam,” the tall woman commented, studying the shape of that culinary delight.

“The jam is homemade,” you explained, serving another piece to Donna, who looked at you through her veil, you didn't know how. “Do you want this one or do you want a slightly bigger one, my love?”

“This one,” she said curtly, taking the plate from your hands roughly. “Em, grazie.”

“You're welcome, darling,” you said in a tender voice, embarrassing your girlfriend with a few sudden kisses on the cheek she pushed away with a brusque growl.

“Lasciami estare, cazzo,” the lady in black hissed, pushing you unpleasantly, under the watchful gaze of her older sister.

“I'm sorry,” you said with a tender smile. “Maybe you'd like a coffee, you want it with milk and no sugar, right, darling?”

“Yes, yes, go, let me breathe,” the lady in black said, moving her hands in an unpleasant way.

You sighed but nodded, looking at the lady in white.

“How…?”

“Black, dear, with two sugar cubes,” Alcina interrupted, with a knowing smile, winking at you.

“Great, I'll bring it right away,” you said helpfully, picking up the plates and going down to the kitchen.

“I want coffee too!” Angie shrieked, tugging at your dress.

“You can't have coffee, you can't have anything, in fact,” you said amused, stroking the doll's head, who laughed amusedly.

None of Donna's actions seemed strange to you. You were already used to it and... Unfortunately, you stopped giving it the importance it deserved.

In an elegant way you put the three cups on a tray, going back up to the dining room. When you heard a sharp voice, you stopped dead, still unseen.

“You're stupid, Donna, stupid,” Lady Dimitrescu snapped in a stern, dark voice. “Keep behaving like that and you will suffer the consequences.”

“It's none of your business, Alcina,” you heard Donna hiss, her voice seemingly upset.

“Mm, maybe, but I'll tell you one thing, dear… If you don't take care of that beautiful garden… well, let's just say that I'd really like to do it,” the eldest Lord said, earning an angry growl from your girlfriend, who stood up from her chair.

“What are you implying? Porca puttana! Get out of my house!” Donna shrieked, pointing to the door.

“Don't yell, little sister… Instead of getting mad, take my advice… Otherwise, I'll be the one to take care of that flower as it deserves. And I think that seeing your attitude, it won't be too hard for me.”

“Fuori!” Donna shouted again.

She seemed very furious, out of her mind. It was time to approach her.

“Sorry, I…” you said timidly, lowering your head and entering the room, earning a seductive look from the lady in white.

“That coffee smells delicious, dear…” she murmured, picking up her ridiculously small cup. “A perfect coffee next to a perfect young lady…”

“Tha, thank you Alcina,” you said with blushing cheeks, approaching the brunette. “Donna, honey, are you okay? Are you having a crisis?”

“No,” she answered, grumbling and letting herself fall into the chair.

“I thought you were arguing,” you murmured, caressing Donna's cheek through her veil, noticing how the rage burned on her skin. “Should I get your medicine, honey?”

“No,” Donna repeated, making you look at her listlessly and then at Alcina, to whom you bowed apologetically.

“Forgive her, sometimes… It happens to her,” you said, apologizing for your girlfriend's attitude, one that was sometimes unpredictable.

Getting furious for talking about a garden… It was very typical of Donna, of course.

“Mm… I know, don't worry, I forgive her,” Alcina said with an implicitly mocking tone. “The question is… Will she forgive me?”

“Stupida…” Donna growled, mysteriously approaching you, taking your hand and kissing the back of it through the black fabric, a gesture that surprised you. “The coffee is delicious, (Y/N).”

“Thank you, darling… Are you calmer?” you said smiling at the compliment, one that you missed terribly. The lady nodded without letting your hand go.

When Lady Dimitrescu left and Donna got rid of her veil, you could see her frown, a strange expression for which you had no explanation.

“Well… It seems that everything went well,” you said sighing, finishing clearing the table and smiling at the brunette, who had her gaze on the floor while playing with her veil.

“(Y/N),” she said with a hoarse voice, approaching you and putting a hand on your shoulder. “I would like to tell you something.”

“Of course,” you said smiling, stacking the plates and cups.

“I love you, you know that, right?” the lady said with a different tone, sad, which made you turn around slowly, grabbing her hand and looking at her with concern.

“Me too, Donna, of course I know… Come on, don't be mad. Alcina just messed with your garden,” you said absentmindedly, looking out the window. “Hey, maybe when it's less cold we could fix it.”

“Fix it?” she asked, frowning in confusion. “The garden?”

“Yes, well… Okay, it's impossible to compete with the castle but I'm sure you and I can make it something similar,” you said with that same passive tone, without thinking clearly, without giving importance to that absurd discussion.

“Do you like the castle?” the lady asked suddenly. “Do you like it more than this house?”

“Oh, no, not at all,” you said, picking up a stack of plates. “Alcina can say whatever she wants, but… I love this house, and the garden, I wouldn't change it for anything.”

“Really? Are you serious?” she asked again, holding your hands very tightly, as if she was scared of something.

“Um, Donna, are you sure you're okay?” you asked worriedly, passing a hand over her sweaty forehead. “Oh, my love… You're sweating, let me finish picking this up and I'll prepare a hot bath for you.”

“No, no… Let me, let me pick it up and… And I'll prepare a bath for you… With… With those bath salts that you like,” Donna said, taking the plates from your hand abruptly, with a trembling voice.

You opened your eyes, surprised by that suddenly different attitude. You felt confused, disoriented. There was no doubt that the strange conversation with Alcina had something to do with it but… You didn't know in what way.

“Mm, I think it's a great idea but…” you said with shining eyes, blinking in a petulant and even seductive way.

“But,” the lady said, looking at you with a strange coldness, darkening her eye.

“Only if you come with me…”

That hot, romantic bath started a confusing phase of your relationship. You couldn't explain why, the reasons that led Donna to change her attitude towards you, but you weren't going to complain either.

Yes, she was still the same grumpy one as always, the one who was overwhelmed by your excessive affection and caresses, but she faced it in a different way, as if she were fighting with herself, fighting to change.

Even so, that wasn't enough for your demons to stop harassing you, for the doubts you had about the feelings of the lady in black to disappear.

Yes, you were happier to be able to talk to her again, to receive many more smiles, for her to accept your kisses but... But you didn't feel that it was enough, you felt it forced, as if someone was guiding the brunette to behave that way.

What you really didn't expect was what happened one cold morning, one in which you didn't read romance books anymore. No matter how hard Donna tried. Your relationship was still far from resembling those love novels.

“The door, there's a knock on the door!” Angie interrupted your ramblings, shouting in a shrill voice and waving her arms to get your attention. “Hey, silly!”

“Ugh, I'm coming,” you said, getting up from the couch lazily. As expected, there was no sign of Donna. That hadn't changed. Her dolls were still her absolute priority.

You opened the door to find something unexpected, a villager holding what looked like a bouquet of beautiful flowers, your favorites, in fact.

“Um... What do you want?” you asked, surprised by the presence of that stranger at your door. That a random villager had been able to cross Donna's territory was something that wasn’t frequent.

“Miss (Y/N)?” the man asked, handing you that bouquet of roses. “This is for you.”

You took it with a frown, bringing the flowers to your nose, slowly inhaling their scent.

“For me? From whom?” you asked, smiling at the beauty of those carefully placed flowers. There didn't seem to be any card, nothing to tell you where they came from.

“I don't know,” the man said, shrugging and turning around. “I'm sorry, but I wouldn't like to stay here for long…”

Before you could ask another question, the man disappeared, walking quickly down the path, surely scared to know where he was.

You stood rooted to the spot, staring intently at the bouquet of flowers, looking for a possible culprit for that romantic act.

Of course, Donna seemed the main suspect but… Something told you that you were wrong. She was a romantic woman, or at least she was for a while, but she never gave you flowers, she never went that far, she never had a similar detail.

No, they couldn't be from Donna. You were quite clear about that.

“Who was it, tesoro?” the lady asked when you entered the house again, startling you. You weren't expecting her presence.

“Oh, um... Well...” you said nervously, showing her the flowers.

“Wow... They're beautiful,” she said with a smile, running her fingers over the petals, looking at you out of the corner of her eye. “Don't you think?”

If you had any doubts about the origin of those flowers, you had just cleared them up. They weren't from Donna.

“I wonder who it could have been…” you murmured thoughtfully, smelling the flowers again “Mm, they smell really nice…”

“Um, yes, I…” Donna said stuttering, looking at you confused.

“Can you imagine that I have a secret admirer?” you asked amused, finding the idea more and more exciting in your head. After all, no one had ever sent you flowers, no one. “How exciting, isn't it?”

The most sincere smile you had ever put on lit up your face as you played with those beautiful flowers, finding a privileged place for them in the mansion. Donna followed you nervously, looking over your shoulder as you put them away in an empty vase, laughing amused and excited by that gift.

“Wow, I really didn't expect that,” you sighed, shaking your head. “It's strange that they didn't leave a note, isn't it? I'd really like to know who it was...” you said in a sweet voice, your heart beating fast from the excitement of receiving that anonymous gift, of feeling that there was someone out there who appreciated you.

“W-would you like to know?” Donna asked, with a broken voice, putting a hand on your shoulders.

You rolled your eyes, sensing a sudden attack of jealousy and took her hand, kissing the back of it briefly.

“Not again, Donna,” you whispered tired of her jealousy, of her possessiveness. “I don't know who it was and if I knew I wouldn't tell you either.”

“But, but, (Y/N)...” she murmured, shaking her head, struggling with her words to say something. “It's just that I...”

“What's the problem with people sending me flowers?” you asked with your hands on your hips, with the prejudice that the lady had gotten angry and was thinking about how to get revenge on that stranger.

You weren't being unreasonable. It wasn't the first time Lady Beneviento got mad.

“T-Tesoro...” she stammered, taking your hand.

You could only think about that attitude, about her lack of attention, you couldn't even think about what she was going to say to you.

“Shh, quiet, Donna,” you said seriously but mockingly, putting a finger on her lips to stop her complaining. “Don't get jealous, okay? They can send me all the flowers they want, it doesn't mean anything.”

“Oh, um, okay...” she finally said, with a tired sigh, looking at you out of the corner of her eye. She seemed really worried.

“I'm going to make you something delicious to eat,” you said with euphoric joy, kissing her quickly and walking happily towards the elevator.

She didn't kiss you back. She just stared at that vase of flowers, shaking her head.

“Silly Donna…” Angie hissed, tugging at her dress. “What's wrong with you?”

“Nothing, Angie, it's better this way.”

You were too excited to pay attention to that conversation between Donna and Angie, and continued on your way quietly.

Those flowers… Yes, it had been a good way to start the day, no matter who it was, but at the same time, you couldn't stop thinking about it.

A lot of faces came to your mind and you dismissed each one of them. It couldn't be Donna. She had gotten very nervous, probably wondering what stupid vermin dared to seduce what was hers. No, it couldn't have been her. Then…

A name popped into your head, one you could sense, that had everything it took to become the main suspect. Alcina Dimitrescu.

It was pretty obvious that the lady in white had some sort of fixation on you, and even more so after that awkward lunch. Obviously, you weren't going to say anything to Donna, that would make her even angrier, and it was better that way.

“It's delicious, amore mio,”the lady in black commented when it was finally time to eat, with a radiant smile, one that reminded you of those first months. It was a shame that your mind was so focused on that flower thing that you didn't even notice.

“Oh, thank you, Donna,” you said with a sigh, with a smile that didn't belong to the kind words of the lady in black, but to that mysterious person who showered you with flowers.

“You put pepper on it, like I suggested,” she commented again, with a tender smile that you did see, which you returned without thinking as you nodded.

“I like to pay attention to the things you tell me, darling,” you said, downplaying it.

The lady in black smiled again, glancing at the vase.

“Wait, you're not being nice because that whole flower thing, are you?” you said with a more serious tone, crossing your arms.

“What? No, no, I just…” she said with a sincere look, shaking her head. “I, I like to tell you nice things….”

“Well, I like you doing it,” you said with a haughty tone, knowing for sure that this slightly more exaggerated attitude was the consequence of the appearance of a new player on the board, of a competitor who seemed to want to claim your love.

Donna continued to change little by little, seeking your warm body at night, whispering in your ear, kissing you relentlessly…

You could consider it a tremendous improvement, a wish that you had been asking for a long time ago fulfilled but unfortunately, you didn't see it that way.

The flowers could have been an isolated incident, an exception in your boring life, but it wasn't. Every day, every morning more flowers arrived at your door, beautiful bouquets that occasionally began to be accompanied by a note, a love note.

Your chest beat with excitement with each new bouquet, with each surprise from that secret admirer. You were excited, intrigued to feel that you provoked so many sensations in someone.

Each bouquet was accompanied by a good deed from Donna. A romantic dinner, walks in the woods... Everything coincided dangerously. That made you think that you weren’t wrong, that her jealousy was forcing the lady in black to become a prodigious lover.

There shouldn't be any problem, it was what you were looking for, to return to the romantic and affectionate beginnings of your relationship, but you knew that Donna would never change simply because she had realized she had neglected you, no, so many months of contempt couldn’t change overnight. That tender and romantic attitude had an explanation: jealousy.

Yes, that was the reason, jealousy. The appearance of that mysterious lover must have forced the brunette to love you, to pay attention to you, to distract your constant thoughts and take them away from that person of the flowers.

On the other hand, you were still in love with Donna, hopelessly in love. Receiving displays of affection from an unknown person was encouraging but you would never change your feelings.

But that she wasn’t able to love you as you wanted, by her own will and not for a mere territorial and primary issue simply frustrated you.

“Let's see, let's see...” you said excitedly picking up your daily bouquet.

On that occasion, it came with a small note, which you opened when you confirmed that there was no one around you.

Dear (Y/N)

I hope these flowers help you understand how crazy I am about you. You are the most beautiful girl in the world. You are the only one who would overshadow the beauty of these flowers. No flower could compare to the light of your gaze, their smell cannot compare to the perfume of your skin.

You are my most beautiful flower.

“Aww,” you murmured, biting your lip, reading that elegant calligraphy over and over again.

Of course, your secret admirer was quite the poet. That person always managed to make you blush.

Luckily, the heels of the lady in black alerted you, giving you time to put the note away and pretend to place the flowers in another vase next to the others.

“Ciao, tesoro…” Donna whispered, hugging you around the waist and planting a soft kiss on your cheek. “More flowers?”

“Looks like it,” you said amused, grabbing the hands that held your body, letting yourself be carried by Donna's gentle swaying. “Isn't it early for you to come up from the workshop?”

“Mm, yes,” she said, kissing your cheek and resting her head on your shoulder. “I was looking forward to be with you…”

“Oh, well, that's… Great,” you sighed, your voice taken over by the words in the note and not by the love the lady was showing you. “What did you have in mind, darling?”

“I thought I could make you some food, you know, some of your favorite dishes,” she commented, dancing with your body, turning you around with an elegant twist of her hand. “Do you fancy it?”

“Your cooking? I always do,” you said, laughing amused by the tickling her lips did on your neck. “Donna…”

“Then we could, I don't know, go for a romantic walk… You and I… The sunset…” Donna whispered in your ear, causing you to blush even more.

“You and I? Without Angie?” you asked suspiciously, frowning.

The lady nodded, stealing a quick kiss on your lips, caressing your cheek and looking at you intensely, as if she was looking for something, something you didn't know.

“You and I, amore mio…” the lady sighed, running her thumb over your lips and making you purr seductively. “After that we could watch a movie, whichever you want…”

“It's a perfect plan, Donna, I'd love to,” you said with a tender voice, letting yourself be completely seduced by her gaze, kissing her slowly.

“Well, well… I have to finish a doll but… After that I'll be all yours,” Donna said, pinching your cheek and pulling away slowly. “Leave those stupid flowers and change your clothes, I want you to be beautiful.”

“Um, okay,” you said blushing, moving your ankle in a childish way while she looked at you with a tender smile before disappearing from your sight.

You sighed with nostalgia, thinking about that new and desired attitude, looking at the flowers. Of course, whoever it was also had feelings for you but you, after a few terrible moments of doubt, cleared your heart or rather, you let it clear itself.

You loved Donna. You loved her with all your soul. Not even all the flowers, all the notes in the world would change that, ever.

Yes, it could be that the lady in black had returned to her loving and kind self because of the danger of someone taking her treasure but... That ferocity only demonstrated one thing: a pure, intense love, one that would be capable of bringing down the moon for you if you asked.

Compared to her smile, her kisses, her words in Italian, the flowers were nothing but weeds and those words were nothing but ink on paper.

In your head, the name Alcina Dimitrescu danced incessantly. Without a doubt, she was the one who admired you, you were not involved with anyone else, it had to be her. You couldn’t betray Donna, you would never do it.

She could never win your love, never.

That statement sailed confidently through your mind, causing you to make a radical decision.

No, you didn’t want more flowers, you didn’t want more love letters, you only wanted Donna, no one else.

Searching through the old address book next to the phone, you found the castle's number, dialing it decisively. Yes, you loved Donna, only Donna. It took a lot of flowers for you to realize it.

“Dimitrescu Castle…” Alcina's tired, velvety voice answered on the other end of the phone.

“Alcina? I'm, I'm (Y/N),” you said nervously. After all, she was also dangerous.

“Oh, (Y/N), it's nice to hear your voice,” she answered with a sinister laugh. “What's wrong, dear? Don't tell me that Donna has done something bad to you.”

“What? No, it's not that, it's…” you said nervously, annoyed by that horrible accusation. “I have, I have to talk to you.”

“Mm, talk, little bird…” Alcina murmured, with a strange sigh.

“Okay, um, I don't really know how to tell you but…” you started, looking around, trying to make sure there were no unwanted listeners.

“You're pregnant… Oh, Donna, you damn irresponsible brat, I knew that…” Alcina said, interrupting and making you growl more and more nervous.

“No, no,” you insisted, losing your patience. “Okay, I think I'll get to the point…”

“Yes, dear, that's how I like it”

“Look, I don't have feelings for you… No, I'm not interested in you, I mean… I like your company but, nothing, nothing else… I love Donna, I love her with all my soul and… No matter how many flowers you send me, my heart isn't going to change, so…”

“Excuse me? What are you talking about, little bird? Flowers?” Alcina asked, laughing in surprise, something that confused you.

“Y-Yes, the, the flowers you send me at home… You know…” you said, stumbling over your words, with your heart in your throat.

“Dear, I have no idea what you're talking about…” Alcina murmured. “I'd love to send you flowers but I'm afraid I have nothing to do with that.”

“No? But, but…” you stammered, terribly confused. “It wasn't you?”

“Mm no,” she said laughing. “Flowers? Please, I'm not that cheesy,” the lady in white mocked.

“Shit…” you whispered covering the microphone, dying of embarrassment. “So who… Who did it?”

“I'm afraid I don't know, dear… Who do you think it did?” she asked laughing, as if you were joking.

You shook your head, your whole body shaking.

“I don't know…” you murmured, scratching the back of your neck. “Sorry, sorry for bothering you… Bye,” you said hanging up the phone, burying your face in your hands. “Oh… But who?”

Your head was confused, blocked, you weren’t able to know who this secret admirer was, there was no one who could be involved in this matter, you only related to Donna and she simply couldn’t be.

Tired and nervous, you let yourself fall on the sofa. If the flowers were not from Alcina they lost all that romanticism. That there was a stranger who wanted to flirt with you was something that you began to see as disturbing.

Looking everywhere, your eyes were fixed on one of the shelves, where a book seemed to stand out. You had a terrible obsession with order and you got up to put it away, realizing that there was a paper sticking out of it.

“Mm?” you murmured curiously, opening the book, a book written in Italian, a paper written in the same language, full of crossed out words, of short sentences that you began to observe.

That handwriting seemed familiar to you but, after trying to read those sentences, those paragraphs, a light lit up in your head. Slowly, you searched in your pocket for that letter, that love note that came with the flowers.

There was no doubt; the letters, the shape of that calligraphy matched completely, as did the last thing written on the paper, the same love letter in another language.

“Gods... Donna...” you said, covering your mouth with your hand, with the unexpected revelation that somehow, you already knew.

Donna sent you the flowers, she was always behind those words of love, it was her all the time and she never told you. A romantic gesture that you didn't expect from her was the perfect excuse for Donna to continue with her game.

Why had she denied her involvement in something so beautiful? You would have to ask her.

With shaky legs, you went down to the doll workshop, crumpling the paper in your hand, with a unique smile, with your heart beating faster than ever. Love was in your veins, in your body, in your face, the love for that lonely lady who sent you flowers even though she already had you, even though you didn't even know she was doing it.

“Donna, darling,” you said in a sweet voice, interrupting the lady's sewing, who gestured for you to come closer.

“I'll be done soon, tesoro…” she whispered, not looking at you, focused on that small garment.

You closed your eyes, approaching slowly and taking a breath.

“You are the most beautiful flower,” you whispered in her ear, leaning towards her and savoring each of the words.

Donna didn't look at you, but stopped sewing, sighing deeply.

“It's been you all along, hasn't it?” you asked in a soft voice, guiding her head to look at you.

Her cheeks were flushed, her chest moving quickly. There was no doubt.

“(Y/N),” she said dryly, not daring to look at your face.

“You sent me the flowers… It was you, my love…” you repeated, cupping her face in your hands. Her eye looked sad, and with an effort, the lady in black nodded slowly. “Donna, darling… Why…? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Io…” she murmured, avoiding the brightness of your eyes, leaving the sewing to grab your wrists, which were still clinging to her face. “I tried but… You didn’t listen to me. You thought I was jealous and… I, I didn’t…”

You silenced her stammer with a passionate kiss, with the moisture of your lips impregnating hers, loving, caressing her mouth with yours with passion, with pure love.

“Donna, my love… My Donna…” you whispered, running a hand through her black hair while she looked at you between sadness and shame. “I thought you didn’t…”

“I know,” she interrupted. “I know you didn’t think it was me.”

“No, I…”

“(Y/N), I beg for your forgiveness,” Donna said, holding your hands, standing up, looking at you now, straight on. “I was stupid… I, I treated you terribly… I neglected you.”

“Donna, well, that's true but…” you said, thinking about those horrible months.

“I don't want to lose you. To lose you would kill me, (Y/N)…” she sighed, caressing your cheek. “Y-You're right, I was, I was jealous… When I saw that Alcina was interested in you I understood that… That I could lose you….”

You nodded softly for her to continue.

“I've never known what love is, what it means to love a person and… I, I thought you could… I don't know, (Y/N), I was sure that you wouldn't abandon me and… I was selfish, I thought I had you and…”

“Shh, it doesn't matter,” you whispered, placing your hands on her waist.

“Yes it does, you give everything for me and I... I have despised you,” she said, embarrassed by her behavior. “I beg you to forgive me, please... I don't know... I don't know how to love, I... I saw you so happy when you received the flowers that I continued, I continued with the lie just to see your smile...”

You silenced the lady again with a kiss on her lips, seeing in her eye the apology, the regret, the love.

“Mm, well, it seems to me that the fact you let me think that someone is sending me flowers just to see me happy is very romantic, Donna...”

“I can't promise you that I can change, I'm not right and... I... I only know that I plan to love you every day and that you are... You are the only thing that gives me the strength to continue,” she said whispering, kissing you slowly.

“Do me a favor, will you?” you asked in a seductive tone, making a smile form on her lips. “Keep sending me flowers…”

After that penetrating whisper, the kisses returned, more and more passionate, wilder.

“No flower could ever say how much I love you, amore mio…” Donna whispered, running her hands over your body, appreciating it, exploring it, memorizing it with her fingers, as if she were afraid of forgetting it.

“Then show it to me, right here, right now…” you whispered again, walking backwards until your back hit the work table, dragging the brunette's body with you, inevitably drawing it into your kisses.

“Yes…”she said, admiring you with her loving gaze, with the caresses of her hands on your body, on your chest, fighting against the rush of your kisses, which began to fill her skin with love.

Little by little the words were nothing but incomprehensible babbling in a tangle of panting, of passion, of bites and hot, wet, anxious kisses.

Your bodies danced to the same beat, to the same rhythm, rubbing against each other, letting the friction return, that contact both of you craved to warm your passion.

The panting slowly mutated, turning into moans when her firm hands lifted your body, raising it onto the table, making those pieces of porcelain that you considered enemies, tremble.

It was like a mockery, those moans were a reminder of superiority towards the dolls, an act of lust in a sacred place for Donna, which would soon cease to be so.

You closed your eyes, pleased by the touch of her erection between your legs, by the excitement of those forbidden, wild, messy kisses. You didn't want to stop or think, you just wanted Donna, you wanted an animal love, a physical and obscene declaration of the love she felt for you. That was better than a hundred flowers.

“(Y/N)… Ti amo…” the lady whispered, looking into your eyes, seeking approval for her hands to pull down your underwear. “I want to make love to you…”

“I want you to,” you whispered, panting with her kisses, hot from her soft touch, from her increasingly furious caresses, from her nails scratching the bare skin of your legs.

She nodded, releasing her shaft after letting the clothes disappear from between your legs, entering you hastily, but accompanied by soft whispers, words of love that you had only heard in your fantasies for a long time, that you only read in your books.

“Donna…” you moaned as you noticed your walls blessed with her erection, the moisture that bathed her body while yours embraced her tirelessly, preventing her from daring to abandon you again.

The silence was no longer awkward, but a grateful companion to your loving glances, to an intense eye contact while the brunette thrust into you in a soft, intense but at the same time romantic way, enjoying the soft and slow contact.

Your body contracted, stretched, tensed. In your head you saw all those notes of love. You felt those words, those movements as a complete declaration, as an apology for her unfair behavior.

“My love…” you moaned, without blinking, letting passion tense your body before a quick orgasm deformed your walls, without her losing her romantic gaze, her movements, her soft caresses. “Oh, Donna!” you screamed when those involuntary movements became unbearable, forcing you to throw yourself into her kisses, to hang on her body while she held you without abandoning you.

Donna didn't say anything, she just moaned and sighed, looking and holding you with her nails digging into your skin when, with a sharp moan, she released herself inside you, completing that apology, that act of reconciliation, of true love...

“Honey...” you sighed as you felt her wet heat fill you, as you felt her seed claiming you as she hugged you, as she caught her breath without stopping caressing you.

“I will never neglect you again, I promise, my flower...”

#donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #re8 donna #re8 village #oneshot #requests

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nolita-fairytale · 1 year ago

Text

burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter three

summary: while you and luca seek inspiration outside of the kitchen, you finally share a piece of yourself with him.

warnings: fluff, eventual smut, eventual angst not use of y/n, conversations about divorce, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the world of the bear.

word count: 2.2k

a/n: thank you again for all the shares, reblogs, comments! let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from the taglist!

part two | masterlist | part four

It’s been a month or so since Luca’s tasting menu for one, and he’s been nothing but a good thing in your life: a friend, a collaborator, a regular diner who gives fantastic feedback. You’ve become fast friends, and after what he did for you, how could you not? You find yourself spending days off with him at a more frequent pace as of late: enjoying cups of coffee, perusing bookstores, following Luca on bicycle as he shows you the city’s lesser known, yet spectacular bakeries. He gives you a heads up when he can’t make it into the restaurant, but most Saturdays, he continues to make his regular Saturday 7 pm date week after week.

Some days you make him something off-menu – something you’re working on, something you’re recipe testing, a dish you’ve bounced ideas around with him over – and other days he’s eager to try whatever new thing you’ve just added to your menu, insisting for you not to go through the trouble of whipping up anything else. It’s a special relationship – something only food-people can understand – and you’re glad that Luca entered your life.

“Hey, your boyfriend’s here,” Jesper says, interrupting your dinner prep as he grabs your attention.

“My what?” you ask him, with no clue in the world what he’s talking about.

“Luca,” he answers plainly, as you and Mathilde both exchange a look.

“Shut up, Jesper,” you both snap in unison, shooting a glare his way.

You exchange another look with Mathilde, almost as if to say: you good? She nods towards the front of house as if to say: yes, I’ve got this covered.

“Yeah, give me a second and I’ll be right out,” you finally direct towards Jesper, as you put down your knife. You reach a stopping point, wiping your hands on your apron, as you leave behind the Mikkelson twins bickering about what Jesper’s previous comment.

Something about ‘you baby her’ from Jesper and a ‘you’re going to scare her away and this is a good thing, you idiot’ from Mathilde in return. At least that’s what you’re able to make out from your basic Danish language skills (you’re working on it, you swear, and right now you know enough to get by in the kitchen and that’s enough)!

You spot Luca with a package tucked underneath his arm as he leans up against the front door, waiting for you.

“Hi,” you greet him, choosing to ignore the fact that your heart skips a beat as soon as you see him.

“Hey. I was on my way to the post office around the corner. Thought I’d stop in and say hello,” he replies with that ever-charming crooked smile of his.

“No, yeah, I-. I’m glad you did,” you return, unable to hide the smile that spreads across your lips.

You don’t want to make a big deal out of it, especially if this is somehow something you’ve made up entirely in your head, but it seems as if Luca’s found different ways – different excuses – to stop in more and more frequently as of late.

“What’s in the box?” you ask him, curiously, gesturing to the package he holds underneath his arm.

“Remember that American I was telling you about? The one who came to stage?” he asks, looking down for a moment.

“Yeah.”

“His restaurant opening is this week. Wanted to send this off. As a gift.”

“That’s kind of you.”

He blushes, just for a moment.

“Think we’ve lost touch with the art of a handwritten note. A novelty these days,” he says, with a quick raise of both eyebrows.

“Absolutely. I mean… it worked on me,” you chuckle, immediately regretting what’s come out of your mouth.

You’re not sure why you said it and what exactly it is that worked on you you’re referring to, but it’s too late to take it back.

“Yeah, I’ve got him to thank, really,” he chuckles, almost shyly. Taking a bolder approach as he continues with, “For reminding me to walk the walk. For bringing me to you.”

You pause, your heart catching in your throat. In the event of fight, flight, and freeze, it really feels like you’re choosing ‘freeze’ whenever Luca’s been around.

“I bet you’re a really great teacher,” are the words that fall out of your mouth, immediately regretting them for how silly your response sounds.

“So was he,” he parries back.

“Sure,” you nod, still reeling from whatever the hell came out of your mouth a moment ago.

Your disconcerting slip-of-the-tongue seems to leave an uncomfortable silence between the two of you, tip-toeing around each other, unsure of who should make the next move.

“Anyways,” Luca clears his throat, collecting himself. “I ehm, gotta get going. Gotta get back to the restaurant here in a few. It was good seeing you today.”

“You too,” is all you reply, frozen and stuck in your own head.

What the hell is wrong with you? You think to yourself as you watch him go.

“Luca, wait,” you say, pushing through the front door to your restaurant as you chase after him.

He turns back towards you, a kind of ‘did I leave something behind?’ look on his face.

“I can’t stop thinking…” you trail off, taking a breath before you continue your sentence, leaving Luca unsure of what you’ll say next.

“...about that dish you’re stuck on. And about what you said.. about finding inspiration. Being open to… you know, what’s out there.”

“Yeah?” he asks, smiling at the thought of you thinking of him.

“Yeah I… I think I have an idea,” you declare boldly.

And it may be a baby step, but it’s a baby step towards him, towards who knows what, towards whatever’s ahead of you.

-------------------------------

You pitch the idea to Luca – to explore different mediums of art as a way of seeking out inspiration (and maybe it’s just another excuse to see him too) – and after a few weeks of busy schedules, covering at the restaurant for coworkers-on-holiday, and lining up days off, you and Luca finally make it happen. It’s been over a year now, since the restaurant opened – and almost two since you came to Copenhagen in pursuit of a dream.

“Wait a second. So you haven’t read Rene Redzepi’s A Work In Progress?” Luca asks incredulously looking for confirmation of the obscene tidbit of information you’ve just revealed to him.

“No,” you admit, guiltily stealing a glance his way.

“My god, it’s fascinating! I’ll have to lend you my copy,” he charges forward, solving the problem at hand without question.

“I’d like that,” you smile, almost to yourself as you think about how much you like being around Luca. “And I’d love to hear about your time at noma – what working under him was like.”

“Uh… that’s maybe a different story for a different time,” he deflects with a chuckle, shooting you a look. “Perhaps after a few pints.”

“Heard,” you nod in understanding, turning to him as the two of you find a good place to post up in the park. You and Luca set your lawn chairs down in Kongens Have, or rather The King’s Garden, right behind a row of other lawn chairs set up that face the tent-covered stage.

“It’s good to see you,” you finally say, really taking him in.

“It’s good to see you too. Sorry it’s just working out now,” Luca apologizes emphatically.

“No, it’s okay! We uh… we’re both busy. We both run restaurants. I mean-, I’m surprised we figured it out in time for the show,” you reply, easily letting him off the hook.

“This is pretty cool,” he says, taking in your surroundings. “First time here?”

“Yeah I-, I didn’t make it when I first moved here… and then this time last year I had just opened the restaurant so… yeah first time. You?”

“Yeah, first time,” he echoes with a reassuring nod.

“Really? I just thought-, well, I thought Copenhagen Jazz Fest was like a huge deal here,” you inquire.

He shrugs, responding with, “I reckon you’re a big jazz fan then, eh?”

“Yeah,” you say.

“Have you always been into it or-?” he questions curiously.

“Uh, no. I… my ex,” you hesitate, figuring you should tell Luca sooner rather than later. “... my ex-husband is a music historian so… I got really into it when we first started seeing each other.

He balks, only for a moment, hoping you don’t notice the strong reaction that briefly flashes across his face.

“You were married?” he asks, barely able to hide the surprise in his voice.

“Yeah,” you admit, nervously.

He waits a beat.

“Do you… want to talk about it?” he asks carefully, with an honesty and genuine curiosity in his voice.

“I-I don’t mind. As long as you don’t-,” you stammer, only a little taken aback by the grace he’s shown you.

“Please,” he encourages, listening carefully. “I like learning about you.”

You freeze for a moment, searching for where to begin, and more than anything, in awe of Luca.

“We met right after I moved back home to Boston – right after I finished school,” you begin, watching him carefully for any kind of reaction.

“And it was good. For a long time. But after a few years of being together, his mom got sick and uh… we both decided that we wanted to move to London so that he could help his sisters take care of her. It was just easier… if we got married… with immigration and stuff.”

“But you loved him?”

“Yes,” you answer. “I think… we knew we wanted to stay together… so we took the leap, unafraid of the fact that everything has its expiration date too. Ours just uh, came a little sooner than we expected.”

“What happened?” Luca asks.

You chuckle dryly, racking your brain for the answer to a question you’ve asked yourself a million times.

“Um… moving back home changed a lot, I think. And we met when we were so young that I don’t think by the time we were caring for a sick parent together, we realized we didn’t really even know who we were anymore,” you explain, putting words to a feeling that’s live in your heart for so long – long enough that you’ve barely shared them with anyone else.

“And… I was living in a whole new country without any kind of familiarity. I was homesick, and all of it – it was just really hard on the both of us,” you think through as you speak.

“I think it just made us realize that we had changed… and that maybe we weren’t the same people who fell in love all those years ago.”

“I’m sorry,” Luca apologizes, sending you an empathetic glance.

“It’s okay,” you’re quick to reassure him. “It was tough. Don’t get me wrong. Like… really tough. But nothing… horribly wrong happened. Some people can grow together.” You pause, only for a moment. “We didn’t. We… weren’t those people, I guess. So we grew apart.”

Luca takes a few moments to process what you’ve just told him with a pensive look on his face – and you can’t blame him.

He waits a beat, before returning his gaze to you, a respect for you in his eyes: for your honesty, for your story, for your resilience.

“Are you still in love with him?” he finally asks.

It’s a good question – an interesting one – and even more interesting that he asked in the first place.

“There are parts of me that will always love him,” you share, the vulnerability coming more naturally to you as Luca makes you feel more and more comfortable. “He’ll always be a part of me and… I still keep in touch with his family, you know. They became… my family too.” You pause, knowing that you can say this next part with full conviction:

“But to answer your question, no. I'm not… I’m not in love with him anymore.”

Luca nods slowly, almost as if he’s waiting for you to change your mind – to take it back – to say something that convinces him otherwise. But you don’t, and he’s not sure he’ll be able to help himself from giving in to things he’s been feeling for you.

“I hope you don’t mind that I asked,” Luca finally says.

“No I-,” you begin. “I’m glad you did. It feels nice… having someone ask.”

He smiles, “Like I said. I like learning about you.”

And with that, the two of you settle into your lawn chairs as the performers make their way onto the stage. There’s a shift – within the crowd, between you and Luca – as the musicians take their places, ready to perform. With the first few notes, the tuning of a guitar, a few keys on the piano, you feel yourself relax a little, encompassed by the warmth of the Copenhagen summer night.

It’s almost as if telling Luca, sharing this with him, has lifted a weight off of your shoulders – no longer hanging over your head as you go back and forth of when to tell him, and if you should tell him, and thoughts of ‘why the hell are you worrying about this it’s not like he wants to know’.

Except he did and he does because he wants to know you.

And tonight, because he asked, because he’s proven to be a great listener, and because he looks so damn good doing it, you might just let him.

-------------------------------

a/n: ok how the hell are we feeling now that we know a little more about reader, her past, and why she's been holding back?! i honestly wanted to write a character that felt fresh, and different from me/my make my heart surrender character SO yeah, this where we're at --second chances at love and a story about opening up again -- with more to come.

#chef luca #will poulter #luca the bear #the bear season 2 #the bear headcanon #luca x reader #the bear hulu #the bear fx #the bear fanfiction #chef luca x reader #pastry chef luca #burn your life down

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milliesfishes · 3 months ago

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⋆౨ৎSomeday⋆౨ৎ

[fem reader] contains: copious amounts of angst, death pairing: billy the kid x fem reader author’s note: I never cry writing and I cried during this so...keep that in mind Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

The ordinary defines everything. Each last is nothing special at first glance, but in memory becomes momentous. Then it all hits you like a bolt of lightning, sparking a fire that burns everything down.

Ordinary was waking up next to Billy, finding you had shifted in the night, and snuggling back up to him. It was wearing his shirt while you prepared breakfast, and having him come up behind you, arms covering your tummy as a kiss was pressed into your temple. It was giggling and turning around to give him a proper kiss, forgetting about what was cooking on the stove. It was eating your burnt pancakes and him assuring you they were delicious anyways, asking for seconds and beaming as you slipped another charred circle onto his plate.

Tan already from previous hours in the sun, he'd kissed you goodbye, big hand steady on the back of your head, eyes reflecting the beat of his heart for you. "I'll be waitin' for you, sweetheart."

The image of him toiling over the garden for you, shirt half unbuttoned in the sweltering heat of the day, was a pleasant daydream as you went about your business in town. Half-distracted by it, you absentmindedly paid for your things in the general store, meandering over to your horse, packing the saddlebags and climbing on. Steadily, you grasped the reins, spurring the creature into a gallop.

It was one of those days when the world was bright-eyed and open- the first one after so many days of rain. The sun was warm on your skin, and you knew Billy would trace the freckles you surely gained later, when you were both between your sheets, bare and blissful from the act of loving. The air held a promise of hope as springtime always did, the light of new beginnings a guiding path.

The spirit of the season had entered your home without so much as a knock. In recent weeks, Billy had begun to talk of riding out west, somewhere shiny and new where nobody would have heard his name or shuddered at his reputation. You were excited by the prospect, knowing how he had chased a fresh start for most of his life. It had always been just out of reach, or marked by some unseen consequence that set him right on the outlaw's path again. This time was different- you'd be leaving the state entirely. Tentatively, you began to make plans, set money aside. Late summertime, maybe, or early fall.

At night he whispered his dreams into your hair, stroking your collarbone lazily where his arms were wrapped around you. "Gonna get the nicest piece 'f land...and we'll live together, just the two of us. It'll be so nice, baby...you 'n me." Brushing tender kisses to your cheek, he promised it in everything he did. The way he touched you, kissed you, made love to you. It was a promise of someday.

Destiny breathed down Billy's neck, cutting sharp at his heels. It was tangled in every action, sprawled across each word. Somewhere in the back of your mind you feared your time with him would be short, the law hot on his tail. There were people out there who wanted the love of your life dead or alive, who'd do anything for a little bit of money. The thought made you cling tighter to him, though you never breathed a word about it.

So when he spoke of someday, you enthusiastically partook, determined to outrun what loomed over the life you'd built with him.

Tonight, you had agreed to start determining a route, and more importantly a destination. You imagined yourself sitting on his thigh, cheek to his shoulder with the candlelight flickering leisurely as he secured an arm around your waist, the other hand pressed to a map. Every little line was a possibility. Anywhere but here.

Smiling a little at the idea, you tugged on the reins, slowing your horse as the quaint house in which you resided came into view. It wouldn't be where you slept much longer. Your real home was the man who rested next to you.

Dismounting, you unloaded your things, petting the thick neck of the horse fondly. Grass grazed your calves as you made your way to the steps, carefully climbing each and making sure to avoid the one that creaked. The house was quiet when you opened the door, and you figured Billy must still be outside.

Humming to yourself, you opened drawers and cabinets, putting your purchases in their rightful places. The orderliness of your house was something you relished- the domesticity of it all. Out of the corner of your eye, something colorful caught your attention. Turning around, a vaseful of wildflowers, arranged in a messy bouquet, met your vision. He must have picked them for you, a sweet surprise for when you returned.

A smile parted your lips, and you touched the pretty blooms, taking careful notice. The daisies were as pure as the season's first snow, your very favorite flower. Forget-me-nots were scattered among them, the same color as his eyes. You had told him that once, and he'd pressed a kiss to the hand held in his grasp. "That's the nicest thing I ever did hear."

Childhood hadn't been easy on you, its duration long and arduous. Your past weighed on you like a stone, sinking you to the bottom of the river. Somewhere in its depths, you had found him too. In the act of falling in love you subconsciously swore to bring out the beauty of life in each other. Under the blanket of his love, you glowed.

It was just like him to make sure you had something pretty to come home to. Bouncing on your heels, you wondered why he hadn't come in yet. Surely his work hadn't taken him so long to complete. Your Billy was always toiling over the littlest details, wanting things to be perfect for you.

Deciding to go out and give him a break from his labors, you fixed one of the flowers he'd left for you behind your ear and swung the door open, stepping out onto the back porch. Peering out into the open expanse, you frowned when he was nowhere to be found.

Descending the stairs, you searched the area, bewildered. Was he outside at all? Had he gone to your bedroom, exhausted from his activities? You looked down aimlessly, already half decided to go check there.

He was flat on his back, eyes blue as the flower in your hair staring glassily at the sky. A crimson stain on the right side of his chest told the story you would never utter. You did not need to touch him to know he was cold.

The world became a void. There was nothing in it except the shell of the man you loved, lying still at your feet. Every thought you had was inconceivable, voices screaming that you were deaf to. Yesterday was suddenly your golden years.

Deadly calm, you numbly bent to the illusion before you, in the shade of the nearby oak tree. Kneeling and sliding your hand under him, his head found a place in your lap. Smoothing a hand through his hair, you brushed the dirt from it, taking one last look into his eyes before smoothing his lids over them. He didn't need to see you like this.

You saw a myriad of memories dance before your eyes, nearly taunting you. They were so close you could nearly taste them, but they lived in a different realm. You could not have them any more than you could have him.

Waking in his arms, morning light making him akin to an angel. It was so warm there burrowed into him, his body swathing yours like a blanket. Without opening your eyes you could feel his lips against your forehead, his morning tradition. Even when he didn't think you were awake, he was giving you kisses. It was the purest testament of his infinite love, washing over you in waves, rebounding for more before the last had passed.

Tucked in his stiff fist were more flowers. You could picture him studying his bouquet in the kitchen and deciding to come back out for more. Maybe if he'd stayed inside it would have saved him. Though he usually wore his holster, gun tucked at his hip, today it was nowhere to be found. A few feet away laid his hat, abandoned for unknown reasons.

Birds sang cheerfully in the distance, wind whistling softly and swaying the grass against you. It was as if the earth was reaching out, a hand on your shoulder.

"It's okay," you breathed, body operating on pure instinct now. The walls were closing in, and breathing felt like a chore. "You're okay...we'll...we'll just rest here for a moment." Swallowing thickly, you whispered, "We'll pick a place together for you to rest...longer. It's gonna be okay."

Cradling his head in your lap for the time being, you breathed in and out, fingers stroking his pale cheek. Determinedly, you did not look at the wound in his chest, focusing on his face. This was the most peaceful you'd ever seen him. The man you loved, slipped into his forever sleep. It wasn't real to you...but you could see awareness running toward you in the distance, poised to hit you at any minute. Maybe it was stupid, but you'd always imagined you'd go together.

A sudden chirp pierced the air, and you looked to it, seeing a little bird perched on the thick, knotted roots of the tree whose shade you knelt in. The little creature called incessantly, beak pecking the ground beneath its feet. It repeated the motion, as if insisting on something, before taking flight and leaving you.

He wants to be buried there.

A flood of tears stung at your eyes, and you bit the side of your lip, attempting to hold them in, but it was too late. What had been circling you had suddenly crashed, and now there was salt on your skin, falling in pearls down your cheeks like landslides. They darkened his shirt like raindrops, though the sky was clear. Helplessly, you gasped, wanting to stay strong, but the force was cruel, unable to be reasoned with. Sliding his head off your lap, you laid there on the ground beside his lifeless form, ear on his chest desperately searching for the familiar steady thump of his heart. Maybe his blood was on your face now, but you didn't care.

"Please come back," you pleaded, squeezing your eyes shut. "We're not done yet...we have to run away together, remember? And we're going to be happy-" A sob cut you off, and you buried your face in his neck, opposite hand fisting his shirt. You had always known your Billy to be warm, life bursting from the seams of him. It was disheartening to learn how cold he now was. This wasn't him. But it was all you had left.

How fragile a thing life was, how cruel a thief. The universe had given you such a love, one that transcended everything you knew, and then ripped it away, jagged edges left where he used to hold you. The future you had dreamt of, that you had counted on, had exploded into dust, as if it had expired. Dead with the one you'd desired it with.

You would never love again. There wasn't another breathing soul you could give your life to in the way you had him. The grave you would dig when you found it in you to let go wouldn't just be for his shell, but for your heart. If you could have cut out the organ and replaced his still one, you would have. Without Billy, what was the point in having it?

Grief ate at you, turned your lips down and spilled from your eyes, pathetically leaving your body weakened. However much he would have wanted you to keep going was irrelevant. Billy hadn't known how much of your will had stemmed from him.

There were so many things you wished you could have told him. So many things you had needed to do. Someday hadn't only been leaving the county. It had been getting married, something he so desperately had wanted. It had been your belly swelling with his child, growing old together, forever in love and finally free.

Now you were left with that same love, only it had unsheathed a new face, one that twisted an imaginary knife and spoke in absolutes you didn't want to believe. He will never hold you again, never kiss you again. The last time was the last time.

Love had shattered your heart and stilled his. Love separated you from him, became bloodthirsty when half of a whole was torn away.

You lifted your head, hoping he would be looking down at you, that nearly crooked smile breathing life back into your being. But he was still, and the world became greyer.

All that was wondrous and lovely before had dulled, and you were numb to any beauty probing at your senses. You could never look at it the same. Billy had told you once before that it was one of his favorite things about you, how you could find a reason to love anything. You knew now that it did not extend to death.

"I'm so sorry, my love," you murmured, leaning up and pressing your lips lingeringly to his cheek. His stubble scratched your chin, and you knew it would leave a mark. But it would fade away too, because all things end. Everything had to die when you least wanted it to.

"Rest and I'll be here with you." Your voice thinned as tears crept into it. "All is well."

His chosen burial spot beckoned, and you ignored the call, leaning your cheek back over his heart, reassuring both him and yourself. His last words to you echoed in your ears until they drew forth from your lips.

"I'll be waiting for you."

#billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid x you #william h bonney fanfiction #william h bonney x reader #william h bonney x you #billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid imagines #billy the kid fanfic #billy the kid imagine #billy the kid fic #billy the kid fluff #william h bonney imagine #william h bonney #milliesfishes billy #Spotify

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accio-victuuri · 2 months ago

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some minor candies dumped together.

my motto is that some bits in this fandom seem small sometimes but you will never know when it will be useful to piece things together in the future.

let’s start with this. HAHAHAHAHA! i always love the contrast between them. zz all cutesy and sweet then you have yibo in a supposed cute fit but that serious face. i love them please! 🥹🥹🥹🥹

moving on to the lovely this or that video released by jimmy choo on their instagram. he was asked whether he prefers skateboards or bike. i guess it’s a no brainer that he will answer skateboard because that has always been his passion but for some reason he answered bikes. maybe he’s doing another thing related to it that we know nothing about.

but it makes us think of another person who loves to go biking. thinking about them doing this activity together as a form of exercise is nice!

maybe we are overthinking it the way we usually do but it’s so out of the expected yibo answer. 🤷🏻‍♀️ plus knowing how prominent a “bike” pops up in xz vlogs. actually, even in the ideal life painting you have a bike.

speaking of jimmy choo, that had it’s own clownery in on itself. lol. these poses from our boys:

I’m so so proud of them for being global brand ambassadors from these brands and continuing to dominate c-ent in their own way/s. with little to no scandal. and how their photos always seem to match. i swear it’s not just the cpf in me that sees these and goes they look good together. they really do even if you are a passerby.

of course xzs and ybo have to join in and give us some sweets. both of the caption saying let’s start… // let’s listen.. so in that way it’s similar. and you have that emoji. at this point the way these two teams seem to have the same posting style is not new. adding this to the very long list 📝

this one is my favorite. so lately, ybo has been posting these sort of postcards to promote ETU. largely with actual snaps from the show which are obviously provided by the production team. but this one photo released seems so special cause it’s an artwork. and yes, a huge part of this is because i’m a cpf and gg as yibo’s personal artist has always been a headcanon truth among us.

however, look ⬇️⬇️⬇️

it seems to have that same style/feel as xz’s previous works. that almost whimsical feel and how it’s colored.

fans even did an edit. do you see it now? ✨

-END.

#yizhan #bjyx #there is no science here i’m just clowning like i always do #i will move on to the livestream clues later pls bear with me HAHAHAHAHA

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captain039 · 3 months ago

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PART 2 Tender hearted souls

Hugh Jackman x reader

Warnings: Age gap, slow burn, feelings, hurt/comfort, two fools in love, angst, light swearing, mental health issues, daddy issues, daddy!dom/little girl, plus size reader

Previous part <-

You’re up late, staring at yourself in the mirror unhealthily. You’ve got granny panties and a plain black bra that just supports and nothing else. You like your flesh, squeeze it, curse it, love it then hate it some more. Maybe you were taking your frustration out on yourself. You feel conflicted, you won’t check your phone or social media’s knowing there will be an up roar. You’re glad you decided to create fake accounts for everything after knowing Hugh so long and being seen out with him more than ten times. You lay back on the bed and sigh legs hurting from the heels. A foot massage or full leg massage sounds so good right about now. A knock comes at your door and you’re upright within two seconds getting your dressing gown and tying it around your waist. You open the door seeing Hugh and smile.

“Heading to bed?” You ask as you let him in. He always made sure you were the one to invite him in your room, he never came in unless he asked.

“In a minute, wanted to check on you” he says a crease between his brow as you hug your dressing gown closer.

“I’m fine, promise” you say still pretending, you should’ve put some proper clothes on.

“I meant what I said up there, I know it was a bit overkill saying it to the world, but” his arm lifts up and rubs the back of his neck, something he did when he was nervous or embarrassed.

“You’ve been my rock lately, my anchor, I wouldn’t have made it here, wouldn’t have made it through the movie without you” you feel like your heart breaks. You go over to him and wrap your arms around his neck, resisting the urge to cry as he wraps his arms around your mid and nuzzles his head into your neck. You want to remove yourself from all this so it doesn’t hurt as much, but his arms, his warmth keep you there, always have.

“Well good thing I’m not going anywhere” you joke softly pulling back. You force a smile as he stares at you. Your breath gets caught at the intensity, the way he always looks at his love interests in movies, that longing look. You brush it off when his phone rings and he curses apologising before leaving.

You stare at the empty space a sigh leaving your lips before you close your door again softly and lie down in your robe, grabbing your phone. You check the news, social media, the hot gossip. Different questions a million answers on who you were, how special you were, why were you special, how Hugh knew you, why you weren’t mentioned before. It’s an endless doom scroll and you switch your phone off and almost throw it at the wall. Your phone buzzes though and you see your mums name pop up. She asks how the premier went, even though she probably read or saw the news somewhere. You tell her it went good, trying to avoid what happened. You say goodnight to her and listen to Hugh’s distant voice on the phone before closing your eyes.

You awake with a small groan, having had a horrible sleep of tossing and turning, not comfortable enough, feeling a little nausea. You want to sleep in more but your bladder demands release so you get up. You use the toilet before washing your hands and grabbing a shirt in the cupboard. You throw it on and find some pants to throw on too before heading into the kitchen. You know Hugh’s either on his run or in the home gym doing stupid gym things. They’re not stupid, you just don’t like doing them and watching Hugh just makes you more tired and a little horny than anything. You grab some cereal and milk before pouring each one into a bowl and sitting on the couch, legs crossed and half asleep. You miss your mouth the first time you try to eat and fake sob a little dramatically before getting it right. You check your phone, check the games you play on there before messaging your mum and dad good morning.

“Morning sunshine” Hugh’s voice rings out and you grumble in response to it. He chuckles a little sitting down in one of the single seats. He’s got his gym clothes on, baggy grey sweats and a grey singlet, a towel around his neck, some gross looking green smoothie in his hand. You gag at it as he takes a sip seeing him grin in response.

“It’ll wake you up, and it tastes good” he says and you raise an eyebrow.

“And I’d rather die” you state, your filter gone when you first wake up. You get a message from Blake asking how you are and you text her back saying you’re fine but a little tired. You’re supposed to go over there house for dinner tonight, a little celebration dinner for yesterday.

“Blake’s dinner is at six yeah?” You ask forgetting already.

“Yeah at six” Hugh confirms and you nod.

“Do I need a makeup artist for it?” You tease lightly.

“No, you do your makeup just fine” he says and you roll your eyes lightly his mind still in training mode.

“Yeah, yeah old man” you mumble.

“Who you calling old?” He’s got a cheeky look on his eye as he looks to you.

“Oh I don’t dunno, first name Hugh last name old man” you grin seeing his fake serious actor face.

“Oh really?” He says standing up and you can’t help but grin wider.

“I dunno Bub, I reckon I’ve got more game than you” he’s got his wolverine voice on as he comes closer. Your heart rate rises as he stalks to you while your grin falters.

“Nuh uh old man” you say as he’s suddenly on you tickling your sides. You’re glad you put the bowl down before you insulted him. You squeal and laugh trying to fight him off as you end up sideways on the couch him torturing you with his finger tips at your sides.

“Stop!” You say breathlessly as he continues relentlessly.

“Hugh! Ok! You’re not an old man” you whine and laugh out again.

“Begging for forgiveness already?” He’s grinning keeping his torture up as you squirm every which way.

“Stop! Stop! I swear, I’m sorry” you giggle in a fit as he finally stops. You let out quick breaths and laugh as he leans over you panting lightly also. You let out a small giggle wanting to tease some more but his smile falters a little eyes looking over your face.

“What?” You ask touching your fingers to your face.

“Breakfast?” You ask wondering why he’s staring at you. He’s closer now, you didn’t notice it but he’s inches away.

“Hugh?” You mutter cheeks hotter than before as he blinks.

“Sorry” he says getting up quickly and walks away down the hall to his room leaving you confused. You frown wondering if you did something, he always took your insults and teasing well and threw them back. You rest a hand on your chest catching your breath and trying to ignore how fast your hearts pounding.

Next part ->

#Hugh Jackman #hugh jackman x reader #x reader #hugh Jackman x you #daddy #ryan reynolds #blake lively

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happy-beeeps · 10 months ago

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Naïveté

Summary: Astarion begins to reconcile with the fact he might have fallen for you, only to worry you've caught an interest in someone else. Earllllllly act 2, minor spoilers for act 2!

Pairing: Astarion x f!tav

Warnings/tags: fluff, miscommunication if you squint, jealous!astarion, platonic!wyll x tav, slightly ooc Astarion because I'm still learning to write him so be nice PLEASE😭🥺

WC: 2k

a/n: I'm finishing a character sheet for tav so we can have her backstory, but she's who I've been using this playthrough and I've been really enjoying her story. When I post on Ao3 she'll have a name, but I'm going to leave her unnamed here! Also, will have a seperate BG3 spot on my masterlist soon!

It’s late at camp, and by the time you finish indulging in a bottle of wine with Karlach, you figure you’re the only one still up. It’s been a long night, and an even longer few days, spent trudging through the grimy depths of the Shadowcursed lands and just barely making it out of the encounter with Marcus alive. Isobel had given you the ability to travel freely, but all you could do was set up camp near the inn.

The firelight is dim when you make your way back from the secluded spot near Karlach’s tent, and Astarion’s tent is sealed tightly. You contemplate going over, just peaking your head in to see if he’s deep in trance yet, but you change your mind. After your previous night’s conversation, you’re still not sure on speaking terms. It plays out over and over again in your mind. Naive, he’d called you, your heart was too big.

You tried to be reasonable. You were naive. You were young, and perhaps no one but Wyll new exactly how young. To be ninety as an elf was to be just becoming an adult. No one else had known, no else had asked, including Astarion. You chalked it up to his truly immortal lifespan, he hadn’t cared about aging for 200 years, why start now?

Still, you couldn’t deny the pull you felt to him, or the thrill that shook your bones when he would quietly rush into your tent each morning, murmuring the incantation for lesser restoration. You still thought of the way he looked at Gale when he asked to consume that locket all those days back. “I’m glad you let him suffer for a moment, darling,” he’d murmured into your ear that night, his breath tingly on your neck, “That one’s ours.”

There’d been other nights since your first night together, while you hadn’t slept together in completion since, all passion and teeth and sweat. Sometimes you’d just kiss him, wrapped up in nothing else but this bliss of arms and scent. Lately though, he’d been closed off—distant. His conversation the previous night had come out of nowhere, as if you were standing on the doorstep of Moonrise Towers that very instant.

You were so lost in your own thoughts, consumed of Astarion, that you nearly missed Wyll’s form standing near the dimming fire, moving around in a dance you actually recognized.

“I hope I’m not interrupting practice,” you smiled, giving the man ample warning before you stumbled into his rehearsal.

Wyll wheeled on you, a faint blush growing across his cheeks. “It’s one of those old courting dances, it’d be a cold day in the hells before I’d ever forget them.”

“Oh I’m quite familiar,” you murmured, thinking back to your own youth, your own debutante ball, before you lost everything. “Everyone else around here forgets I come from taste.”

Wyll snorts, “Sure don’t smell like it.”

Your friendship with Wyll is a special thing. No one else can understand what it felt like to be from a Noble family, the expectations and the experience it comes with. When your family had been killed and their wealth assumed, you were completely on your own. Learning how to pickpockets and lie had not been a part of your expensive and tasteful education.

Dancing, however, came second nature.

You move to stand in front of him without really thinking, decades of experience guiding your motions. “Go on, let’s see what you can do.”

He’s a fine partner, moving cautiously around you and guiding your hand easily. Even when he brings you closer for a slightly more intimate dance, his hands nor his eyes never stray.

“I wonder what I’d have done if I ever saw you at one of the balls my father sent me too.” He murmurs.

“I’m certain you did. Though you would’ve been young. I haven’t been in nearly a decade.”

He chuckles, and clucks his tongue for a moment, “Just practically a baby, far to young to approach Fey nobility.” Before bowing in front of you and wishing you goodnight. There’s the smallest beat where he looks at you as if he has something to say. You look at him for the smallest moment. It would be so easy to love him, if you were anyone else. He’s exactly who your father would have picked for you, save his humanity. But, despite it, you can’t. You can’t fake the flutter you get when you Astarion’s cold hands tickle your fingers, or the tickle of his hair on your cheek when he’s pressed against your neck. You’re not naive enough to admit this to Astarion, but from the fleeting glance you send to his tent, you can see that Wyll already knows. He leaves you with a knowing glance and a soft goodnight. You go back to your own tent, happy to have removed the thought of the curse, of Ketheric, and even of your own problems for just a moment.

So full of contentedness in fact, you don’t notice the scarlet eyes peering at you from the slat of their tent, a whirlwind of emotions cascading over them.

* * *

Astarion doesn’t hide his mild disdain for Wyll, or anyone to be fair, to begin with, but the following morning he bears down on the man like an ogre. “I didn’t anticipate you being quite so light on your feet. The Blade stands at the ready, and also ready to pirouette, I suppose?”

Wyll rolls his eyes at Astarion’s quip, used to the sarcasm, but somewhat surprised at the intensity of the rogue’s grip on his arm. “Wasn’t aware I couldn’t have past times.”

“By all means feel free to entertain us with a ballet in between slaughters,” his voice hushes as you walk by, looking at the two men skeptically, “I’d just prefer if your duets didn’t happen whilst I’m trying to read.”

Wyll follows Astarion’s slightly fleeting to his retreating gaze. You’re standing behind him, out of earshot, leaning against Lae’zel’s tent while she sharpens your sword. Astarion’s stare is enough to allow him to piece everything together. “Can I give you a word of advice?”

“Only if you accept that I may ignore it entirely.”

“She’s wonderful. And she’s made her choice without giving anyone else a chance. If I were you, I wouldn’t waste it, wouldn’t kill you to get to know her.”

Wyll walks away, and Astarion is left alone again with his thoughts. Contrary to Wyll’s belief, he thinks it might actually kill him to get to know you. He’s been balancing precariously on his fight to not let himself be fully consumed by you and your grace, your goodness. You were a spoilt little thing, he was sure of that, and he had meant what he said that night by the water. It didn’t mean it hurt his chest more when your face fell. “Naive?” there was a crack in your cool, crafted facade. Genuine hurt had settled there for a moment, and something akin to disappointment. He hadn’t known how to face you since, hadn’t known how to say “I’m sorry! I’m falling for you and can’t help it and I’m terrified!”

So instead he said nothing at all, and resolved to say something later.

* * *

You had just gotten back to camp for the night, Karlach nearly giggling at the amount of gold she had stuffed in her pockets from the tollhouse. You had noticed Astarion’s eyes on you, heavy and pensive, when you had dealt with the Master of Coin, how easily you’d convinced her to simply cease to be. That was perhaps the easiest transition from nobility to rogue you had, the gift of a silver tongue and wide, batting eyes.

You changed into your camp clothes and watched Karlach throw gold pieces at an increasingly irritated Lae’zel, Gale standing nearby doing his best to keep spirits high in this eerie camp, working with whatever cured meats and cheeses you still had to attempt to make a dinner. You had changed into camp clothes and grabbed one of the books you had found in the tollmaster’s office, a shockingly smutty romance novel that had to be even older than you. It was quiet in the corner you found, somewhere even Halsin’s booming laugh had faded into quiet background noise. You tried to not think about your surroundings, about your increasing frustration with Astarion, or the odd way his gaze had hung on you all day.

“I’m always impressed by that tongue of yours, petal.” The vampire’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, and he settled beside you on the ground, arms behind him as he reclined easily next to you.

You rolled your eyes at the innuendo, and the pet name. “Yet you’ve been leaving me and my tongue to our thoughts the past few days.” You huffed, flipping the book to the next page, though not really reading any of it

If Astarion could blush, he looked as if he would. “We’ve been a bit busy darling. I’ve been…strategizing.”

“Strategizing?”

“Precisely.”

The quiet overtook the two of you. After being so distant, if he didn’t want to come to you, then so be it. You could not—would not–crack first. He could not even begin to know the bubbling furnace of your feelings, or you’d be positively done for.

“How old are you?”

His question strikes you, strikes you enough that you set the book off to the side and face him. “At what point did you start to ask me questions?”

“When I realized I had done something to anger my favorite companion,” his fingers reach out and trace small patterns on your skin. “How old are you?”

“Ninety.” Your voice moves to a whisper at the end of the word, and his eyebrows quirk.

“Only ninety and yet alone. And Balduran?”

“Yes, but I haven’t lived there since I was seventy five.”

“Something happened,” he rocks upward, now sitting nearer to you. “You weren’t supposed to be like this.”

“Perhaps that’s why I’m so naive.” It comes out more bitter than you meant, but oh well. He deserved it.

“Naive wasn’t the right word,” he looks like he’s fighting himself to turn out the next sentence. “I didn’t mean to offend.”

You smile softly, laying a hand on top of his. “I don’t know if I believe that, but I appreciate the apology.”

He grins, his deep set smile lines settling in your favorite way. “Tell me about your childhood.”

You shrug, “There’s not much to say. I was an only child, an only daughter. I used to play the lyre, learn languages, paint–”

“You come from nobility.”

“I sort of thought it was obvious,” you shrug and tap your knee against his, “I wasn’t supposed to be out in the middle of a campground, much less learning the ways of a rogue.”

“What were you supposed to be?”

“A wife, I guess.”

“And while I’m sure suitors everywhere are devastated, I much prefer my rogue.”

My. You don’t say anything and neither does he. You let the word hang there, testing to see if he reaches back to grab it, but he doesn’t. It gets quiet for a moment after that, and you can see him spinning the illusion in his head. You, swathed in organza, spinning around a marble ballroom, entertaining suitors.

“Is that why you danced with Wyll?”

“Ah,” you smile and rest your head on his shoulder. You love these fleeting moments of intimacy, where you can both pretend to be nothing more than lovers on an adventure. “So this was spurred by jealousy?”

“As if I have anything to be jealous over Wyll. He wishes he looked half as good as me.” His words lack their normal bite, and he turns his head softly, so he’s speaking quietly, just to you. “But perhaps in the future you’d let me take you for a spin.”

You press your hand against his on the ground. “You need only ask.”

“I’ll… keep that in mind.”

There’s so much more you both want to say, confessions on the precipice of both your minds, but you say nothing. You idle together a touch longer, hands resting against each other, pretending neither of you can get hurt, envisioning a world where it’s him spinning you across the dance floor in a world where you could have each other.

#astarion x reader #astarion #baldurs gate 3 #astarion x tav #astarion bg3 #astarion ancunin #astarion romance

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