#deciding between words and an image… may end up getting both…

[dykemusic]

getting an impulsive punch drunk love tattoo tomorrow 🙂‍↕️‼️

[endless-ineffabilities]

backhand stroke (18+)

tennis coach!Aemond x tennis player!reader

Rivals on and off the court, things come to a head between the two when Aemond crosses the line and sabotages the reader's relationship.

themes : challengers inspired, Art Donaldson is featured <3, a lot of cussing, smut!!! (minors dn fckin i), the reader and Aemond hate each other (but if they hate each other why are they fcking), reader may or may not be a cheating bastard, Aemond has a glass eye + he calls the reader ace

a/n : initially I was about to write a fic where Aemond and the reader are actual rivals themselves, but quickly remembered how tennis works 💀 so in this one, Aemond is a coach and reader is a player 🎾

word count : 8k ▪︎ masterlist

The Westeros Open is the biggest and most prestigious tennis tournament in the country. 

Anyone who wants to be someone in the sport aims to qualify for it. 

For you, it is everything. You have devoted your entire life to tennis. It started as something that stemmed from your parents' neglect. Rich folks who signed their young daughter up for extensive tennis lessons just so they can be free of her and galivant off to wherever. 

You had sat there, staring at your shiny, brand-new white tennis shoes. Holding your unused top-of-the-line racket. Hair kept away from your face with a headband that still smelled like the store. 

Mostly left alone by your family, you gathered your strength, and dragged your weak eight-year-old legs across the tennis court day in and day out. 

Through the years, you found yourself. You found home, and you gave everything you had to make sure you would never lose it.

As luck would have it, you found romance along the way in Art Donaldson, who became your coach after your previous one decided to quit. He used to be a player, until he fell out of love with the game, and chose to coach up and coming players instead. 

You had been wary of getting involved with him, but eventually you couldn’t resist. He turned out to be the perfect boyfriend - caring, sweet, attentive to your every need. He became your partner in both tennis and in life. Truly, you couldn’t want for anything else.

You shouldn’t. 

So why does it feel like there is something missing?

And why is that void one that only Aemond Targaryen can fill?

The gigantic poster propped up in the inner courtyard of the country club lets everyone know that your next qualifying match in the Westeros Open is against none other than Helaena Targaryen. 

Your image looms up to around twenty feet, with Helaena’s lithe figure on the other side. The perfectionist in you can’t help but scrutinise the details in your expression and your form. Was that really what you looked like mid-serve? You laugh dryly, feeling silly at your misdirected concern.

You like Helaena, and she’s always been cordial to you outside of your matches. The issue lies with her more brash and calculating brother and coach. 

Something - or rather someone - shuffles behind you. Close enough that the hairs on the back of your neck stand on attention. 

"I wish I could say that you look good up there, but we did once promise not to lie to each other.”

Think of the devil and he shall appear. You don't have to turn around to know who it is. 

Aemond fucking Targaryen. Once at his prime, known for his freely expressing his passion and rage on the court, earning him the title 'the bad boy of tennis'. It was this drive, this relentlessness, that propelled his game. Unfortunately, it also served to be his downfall. After a few years as the sport's #1 male player, his career came to an end after an off-court altercation with an opponent that took his eye.

Now he is the coach of one of your top rivals and upcoming match opponent, his sister Helaena. 

Which is why it should come as no surprise to you that he has made it his mission to get under your skin, with all his unwarranted flirty remarks, constant staring, and how he tirelessly interacts with everything you post on social media. 

It used to be tame, by his standards anyway, with things like, ‘You need to work on that backhand’ or ‘I’m guessing Donaldson doesn’t train you well enough.’

But then the messages took a different turn. You once posted a picture of you in a fancy, revealing gown when you attended the annual gala, and he responded with, ‘It’s easy to see that all your training has paid off, ace.’

You chocked it all up to playful aggression. He’s just trying to get you to lower your guard, and distract you. You knew better than to look too much into the apparent interest he gives you. 

He is notorious for being a playboy, after all. Dirty blonde hair perfectly tousled, designer tracksuits he wears with such snobbishness, a presence that can command an entire room. You’ve grown to heavily dislike the seemingly permanent smug sneer on his lips, and how he sometimes treats others like they��re nothing but gum stuck on the soles of his fancy tennis shoes.

A handsome rogue who possesses a lot of talent and who is aware of his status as a hot commodity can be dangerous indeed. If he can say that Helaena Targaryen’s best opponent is nothing but another notch on his bedpost, then he will never let that live down. 

More importantly, you are already spoken for. Aemond knows this - not that he cares - but whatever he thinks about your relationship doesn’t matter. 

“Aemond.” You don’t turn to face him, continuing to scrutinise the gigantic poster. “Is that the best you got?”

He shrugs, positioning himself right in your line of sight, clearly demanding more attention. “You don’t just look good. You look good enough to fucking eat, ace. Too bad about the shitty attitude.”

Hot then cold, nice then nasty. Aemond will never change. Rolling your eyes, you say, “I thought I told you not to call me that. Shouldn’t you be somewhere else training your sister? She’s gonna need it.”

He steps closer, invading your space. You look him directly in the eye like you’re squaring up with an opponent. This has always been your dynamic. Neither one backing down, neither one ever really dealing a blow. 

Just constant dizzying electricity. 

Sooner or later, it will all come to a head. Whether it will be your fault or his, the jury is still out on that. 

“Oh, I’m sure she will,” he patronises, his deep blue almost violet eye sparkling. On the opposite was his glass eye, only adding to his intimidating nature. He hadn’t opted for one that resembled his real eye, but rather a hazy white apparatus, making him appear ghoulish, almost ghostlike. Nestled in his left eye socket, framed by a faded maroon gash, it made him look every bit like the charismatic rogue of tennis that he is known to be. “Shouldn’t you be somewhere receiving instruction from Donaldson? Not that you’ll get much out of it.”

“Art and I are on top of our training, not that it’s any of your damn business. You should concern yourself with your sister’s game.” 

“If only that were actually true, ace, but unfortunately I believe that your sweet Art wastes too much of his fucking time being on top of you.”

“Fuck off, Targaryen,” you respond, trying to push the allure of his scent out of your mind. Pungent cologne and cigarette smoke, a blend that you’ve come to associate only with him. “Stay out of my business, and quit messaging me.”

“You like how we talk.”

“Trust me, I don’t.”

“Does Donaldson know?” Fully aware that Art has never had a liking for him, he knows that will hit a nerve. 

Your face falls, like you’ve been caught in the act. Even though you've done nothing wrong. Occasionally caving in and responding to Aemond’s messages surely isn’t crossing the line. What started out as a couple of offhand fuck offs from your end turned into actually sharing private jokes about the other matches and training and - heavens forbid - small talk about the goddamn weather. 

You’ve come to know that his favourite colour is green. Not the neon of a tennis ball, but a bluish-tinted pine. 

Not that it matters. 

Encounters such as this one also don’t mean anything. Never mind however much you find him attractive. Who wouldn’t? You have eyes, and you’re only human. Nothing more to it. 

Never mind how, some nights, in what can only be construed as momentary states of delirium, you have imagined him in Art’s place. 

Never mind just how much he gets under your skin, like no one else can, and how you can’t admit to yourself that you might actually like it.

Oh, you might actually be making yourself sick at all these thoughts. 

“There’s nothing for him to know.” You step to the side, indicating that you want to walk away. But he has you cornered and you both know it. 

He smirks, “Keep telling yourself that, ace. But you can’t deny - ” He steps close again. He suddenly tilts your face toward him with one hand, but you shake your head and his fingers lose their hold. “ - this. Us.”

Damn him. And damn the shiver that just ran up your spine. 

You stand still, entranced by the look he’s giving you. Trick or not, Aemond sure does have a way of looking at you as if he sees you for who you really are. Not the tennis prodigy. Not the public personality. You remain a shell of that broken kid that poured everything she had into this sport, much like he had, only to come out the other end still not whole, still searching for something inexplicably out of reach. And he sees just that - just you.

You feel like Art holds you up on a pedestal, not seeing the flaws that make you who you are. But you’ve always been happy to play the perfect girlfriend. 

Until Aemond. 

But he’s too much. Too forward, too brash, too intoxicating. You can never know what he’s going to do next. You can’t like him. You have to be certain that you don’t.

But then again… love and hate have always been two sides of the same coin.

He whispers, clearly pleased with the effect he has on you, “Match point, ace.”

Match point. You could have him. He could have you. He makes it evident that the next move is all yours. “Don’t go out of bounds, Targaryen,” you warn him lowly. 

“What if I want to?”

You have him. He has you.

And you… have Art. 

Clearing your throat, and your head, you finally step back. His head snaps up to follow you, disappointment evident on his face. 

“See you around, Targaryen.” You spin on your heel, walking away, immediately feeling lighter. Emptier, feeling like your body begs to drift closer to him, two equal magnets. 

“Ace,” he calls to you, walking after you when you don’t turn around. “Wait a second,” he reappears right in front of you, effectively halting your stride.

You grumble hastily, “God, you really have a space issue, don’t you, Aemond?”

“Meet me in the courtyard gardens,” he says, a new intensity lacing his voice, “tonight. After dinner. Or whenever you can. Just - ”

“No.”

“Come on, ace.” His tone is insistent, with no trace of his usual bravado and cockiness. “I think… I need to tell you something.”

Part of you wants to cave in, and just agree to whatever it is that he’s proposing, but that nagging voice in the back of your mind is adamant that it would not be right. What would Art think? But what if Aemond truly just wants to tell you something?

“So tell me now.”

His jaw clenches hard, and you can’t help but admire the taut edges of his face. “No, I want to do this, just you and me. When we’ll be alone - ”

“Aemond - ” you start to shake your head, trying hard to come up with a refusal that he will actually register. 

“Donaldson doesn’t need to know,” he almost pleads. “This is between you and me, ace. You just have to hear me out.”

You take a deep breath, unable to understand just what it is he means. “If it’s something I have to hide from my boyfriend, then it’s not gonna happen. You have to see just how messed up that is, Targaryen.”

Either he can’t hear you, or he just does not want to accept your response. “I’ll wait for you. Right around midnight then, ace? Should give you plenty of time to sneak out.”

Before you can say no, again, he hastily plants a kiss on your cheek. Your eyes flutter shut at the sensation, in surprise and perhaps pleasure at the softness of his lips, and when you open them once more, he is no longer flooding your space. 

You spy him entering a set of glass doors, leaving you there stunned.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Aemond kicks at another pebble, the sound momentarily breaking the silence in the gardens.

He’d checked his watch just seconds before, the face of it spitting on what remains of his eagerness. 

Twelve fucking fifteen. 

Either you just got held up by your whiney rat-faced boyfriend, or you’re a no-show.

Aemond doesn’t know which one is worse. He did not know what he was expecting in the first place. Did he actually think that you would do as he says? You never were good at following orders, much less those from someone whom you likely view as something of a nuisance.

Is that really what you see him as? Isn’t there something more at play here?

Something that keeps Aemond up at night, when he can no longer deny that it is not because he dislikes you that you plague his thoughts, but because he admires you. He does admire you, he sees no shame in admitting that. 

As a tennis player. As a competitor. Anyone who feigns ignorance at your insane potential would just be lying to themselves. 

As a woman? A… partner? No. It has to be no, doesn’t it? You hate him, you make it clear now and again. You disagree with him, challenge his views, point out his flaws. Surely, he can’t be attracted to you in a way that commands his heart. You are beautiful, he doesn’t deny this, but so were the dozens of other girls he had run through. 

Each time he watches you perform your signature backhand stroke, with that sensual growl escaping your lips and the lewd grace with which your body bends, Aemond feels his sanity slipping away.

You drive him crazy, but he can't be crazy about you. 

The only reason he asked you to meet him, is because he wants to propose that he replace Art as your coach. Helaena has expressed that she wants to retire, and focus on some other creative pursuits. Something insignificant to Aemond, that he can’t remember what it was exactly. A pottery business? A fucking flower shop? He doesn’t care to know. 

It’s perfect, he thinks, because your game is superior anyway. It’s what first got his attention, and now he can take part in your process. He can direct you, shape you. He can do so much better than Art Donaldson, and he’s sure you know this too. 

Maybe then you might actually open up to him the way you opened up to Art. With your absence tonight, it dawns on him that he might actually have to resort to other measures. Did he seriously think he would be able to simply reason with you about this? 

He sits for another half-hour on a bench nestled among the rose bushes. Surrounded by flowers of deep scarlet, a maroon he distinctly remembers as being your favourite colour. He fools himself into believing that he’s using the time to craft a plan for what’s to come, and not that he’s wasting it on the hope that you might emerge from the tall hedges, out of breath and eyes glinting eager to find him. 

Well, you played your hand. Now he knows what he has to do.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You wake up groggy the following morning, having tossed and turned the entire night, thinking about Aemond.

Had he been out there, waiting for you? Your mind came up with the different possibilities of what he has to say. Or if he had nothing to say at all, and it was all just another ruse. 

You told yourself that you didn’t want to meet up with him, but you had an alibi prepared. One of your old tennis club mates agreed to cover for you and say that you were having drinks together, just in case Art ever checks up. 

But as you were about to deliver the excuse, Art had said something about you and him not getting to spend as much quality time anymore. The past few weeks have been occupied with nothing but tennis, and though it’s a shared activity that you both value, he wanted to stay in for the night with you. He ordered room service, downloaded two films that were on your watchlist, and whispered sweet nothings in your ear until you eventually gave up on meeting Aemond. 

It can wait, whatever it is. 

Besides, isn’t this the right thing to do? Did you seriously consider having a midnight rendezvous with the guy who you claim to dislike the most? Someone who encourages you to keep secrets from your boyfriend? What good could possibly come out of that?

With a heaving sigh, you push all thoughts of last night from your mind. There are bigger things at hand. The biggest tennis tournament of the year, for one. 

You make your way to the dining hall of your hotel. Art had woken up before you, pressing a loving kiss to your cheek and explaining how he had to discuss some matters with your physical team. He wore the skin of a tennis coach as perfectly as that of a boyfriend. 

And here you are, regretting that you were unable to meet up with another man the previous night.

The art deco layout of the lobby extends into the spacious dining hall, the interior of the hotel filled with geometric patterns and rich jewel tones. You once bid Aemond guess what your favourite interior design was, and he got it in two tries, complete with a spiel of how it reflects your personality. Art, on the other hand, had been adamant that your favourite was minimalist. That was the first time you realised that his perspective of you was different from Aemond’s. 

You hadn’t yet reconciled with who is more accurate, lest it shine a light on something deeper. 

The hostess is cheerful and full of pep as she leads you to your table. You know it’s coming - she’ll ask you for a picture in just a moment, and you’re proven right when she reaches in her pocket and her phone materialises inch by inch. She seems shy to ask, ready to turn on her heel with a stiff smile if you refuse, so you do your best to be encouraging.

When the photo is taken and she finally lowers her phone, you spy someone out in the distance and you make it out to be none other than your boyfriend. Leaning by the outdoor terrace, appearing to be speaking to another person you can’t yet make out, their face obscured by the decorative shrubbery scattered across the area. 

You walk to the side to get a better view of who it is. That tall figure, clad in a black tracksuit… a familiar head of blonde hair… and the unmistakable cut of his jawline. Realisation sets in. Art is speaking to Aemond. 

Your stomach sinks, the thought of breakfast no longer enticing. Frozen in the middle of the dining hall, you begin to attract the attention of others. 

Aemond turns his head, perfectly timed for his gaze to meet yours. Like something out of a grim movie, your anxiety spikes as his smug smirk materialises in slow motion. 

If there ever were a match at hand between you two, that smirk makes it clear that he has won it. 

Art follows his gaze, also meeting yours, but without any trace of satisfaction. He looks at you accusingly. You shake your head at him, but you already know. 

This is not going to end well. 

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

“Is it true?”

You had wordlessly followed Art back to your hotel suite, the air around you thick with dread and anticipation.

“What did Aemond say?” You stand in front of him as he calmly sits by the window, as if you’re on the trial stand. You just might be.

“Guess,” Art spits mockingly. “Why don’t you tell me? You seem to know him quite well.” You bristle at his tone. He’s never spoken to you like this before. 

“Whatever he told you, it’s not what it looks like, okay? You know Aemond. He likes to mess around with people, especially us.”

Art shakes his head in disbelief, “He even showed me some of your messages. Some of them you must have sent - what, at 3 or 4 in the fucking morning? When you’re lying next to me in bed? Not getting a lot of sleep apparently. It must be why you’re not on top of your game.”

He’s not playing fair, and you deserve this. 

“There’s nothing going on between us,” you say through gritted teeth, making the statement sound as firm as possible, because it’s not just Art you’re attempting to convince. You want to believe it too. 

“He’s said some things about me.”

“And I defended you.”

“Not well enough,” he shakes his head. “It sounded almost normal for you. Spewing bullshit to each other.”

“It’s just… it’s all just banter.” God, you sound so terrible. “Riling each other up to get into the mindset before matches.”

“All that… all that, I can kind of understand. It’s the other things. The intimate things that get on my nerves.”

“What - ” You can’t form the proper response to that. 

“I missed talking to you, he once said. To which you replied that you do too.”

“That’s nothing.”

“You said that he inspired you.”

“That’s… that… he’s a great talent,” you stammer, as the statements he throws worsen. “He always has been. Even you can’t deny that.”

The argument goes on for an uncomfortable length of time, with Art reminding you of things that you and Aemond had apparently messaged each other, and you trying to play them off as insignificant. 

Gradually, you convince Art that Aemond is just a thorn in your side. That Aemond was just overplaying the messages to get under his skin. That letting this break your relationship would be giving Aemond what he wants. 

But everything he said - the messages he brought back to the surface, the encounters that were brought up - made you realise the depth of your involvement with Aemond. 

You are fooling yourself, just as much as you are fooling Art.

He finally stands, heading towards the door. “I’ve spoken to our physical team. Meet us at the gym in 15.”

“Art.”

He halts, but he doesn’t turn to face you. You’re worried about what you’ll see in his face if he does.

“Are we okay?” you ask.

He turns to the side, and you catch a glimpse of the man you love, his once blithe demeanour reduced to a brief, forced smile. He nods once, and you sag in relief. When he is finally out the door, you collapse onto the bed and press your knuckles to your eyes. 

You feel it all at once. 

Anger. Frustration. That fear of inevitability coming to fruition. This was bound to happen and a part of you knew it was coming.

Aemond screwed you over, and it’s high time you put an end to everything.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

The gardens. Midnight. 

The message had been sent. The last one you will ever send to Aemond Targaryen if things go as planned. 

You have it rehearsed and perfected in your mind - how you will give him a piece of your mind, how you will tell him off and tell him to fuck off for good. 

As long as you think of Art…  As long as you don’t lose yourself, then…

“You’re lucky I’m not standing you up, Ace. Not like what you did to me.” The bastard has appeared directly behind you, as per his custom, so close you can feel his breath on the nape of your neck. 

You immediately turn to face him, and he stands calmly in his signature black tracksuit, his lips curled in their usual manner. “I never agreed to meet you that night.”

His smile is derisive, the sight of it sharp and cruel under the moonlight. “I thought we had sort of a code of honour, you and I. That we’d never lie to each other. Never let the other person down.”

“Honour?” you say mockingly. “I call bullshit. Trying to ruin my relationship… is that part of it?”

He looks away, shaking his head at your accusation. “I only did what you don’t have the fucking guts to do. Your relationship with Donaldson was ruined the moment we…” He trails off, brows furrowing. His gaze meets yours, revealing the truth that sits underneath his mask of arrogance. One that only you are allowed to see. He appears to take on a different smile this time, softer and less pronounced. The curses you want to hurl get caught in your throat when he looks to your lips and hums faintly to himself, almost as if he’s forgotten that you are in the middle of an argument. 

You take a step back, and it shakes him out of his reverie. It shakes the both of you out of it. 

“Well? Let’s fucking hear it then.” You raise your arms in a gesture, egging him on. 

“Hear what?” he says, having the gall to be confused.

“What did you want to tell me that night? Tell me now, because you’ll never get the chance again.”

He straightens, getting his thoughts in order. He completely forgot about that issue, and talking is increasingly becoming the last thing he wants to do right now. He wants to put his lips to better use. Something more worthwhile. “Helaena’s retiring,” he finally decides on saying, “and I think I should be your coach.”

You’re dumbfounded for a moment, his proposition whirring in your head. It makes sense, it does. He just gets you. But then again… 

“That’s rich,” you reply. “Do you think I would ever give up Art? He’s always been my coach and he’s damn good at it.”

“You’re not compatible,” he counters, “in the court and out of it.”

“You don’t know that.”

“He doesn’t see you,” he affirms. He would never lie to you, and he isn’t about to start now. He repeats, “He doesn’t see you, but I do.”

His words strike true, and it feels as if he’s just pulled the rug from underneath you, and you’re falling, falling… 

Right into his arms. And the impact is jarring, because it’s real. 

“We can’t.” It comes out as a hoarse whisper, a reflection of your weakening restraint.

“Yes we can, ace.” He takes a step closer, and he lifts his hand as if on instinct, reaching for your face. But he’s frozen, unsure of how far he can toe the line that already lies fragile between you. “It should be you and me.”

Your eyes follow his movements, because you know you want him to give in and hold you. To touch your face. To kiss you.

And it’s wrong. It’s all wrong. 

“I have to go.” Your voice carries no emotion. You avert your gaze at the last second and catch the defeat that flashes across his face. It should come as a surprise that it pains you to see him like this, but then again, you see him as he sees you. You always have. Which renders your next words among the most painful to come out of your mouth. “We can’t do this anymore. Art already doesn’t trust me, and if this goes on, it’s only going to make things worse. I can’t talk to you - ” 

“No.” 

“- and I won’t be responding to anything- ”

“Stop fucking talking.” His anger is fledgling, rising to the surface. There is no way he will calmly accept these terms. “I said no, ace.”

“It’s… it’s the right thing to do,” you murmur, still unable to look at him. “I’m sure I’ll see you around. We run in the same circles. But we can’t be… us.”

“Forget it,” he seethes, trying to catch your eyes, and growling low when you don’t relent. “Forget him, ace. Or do whatever the fuck you want. But not this, I’m not having this.”

You exhale, having gotten the worst of it out of your chest. It’s over now. But it’s not a relief that you feel. It’s remorse. 

“Goodbye, Aemond.” With that, you finally take him in once more, and one glance is enough to shatter your resolve. His heightened ill temper shines clearly across his distinguished features. Under the midnight moon, he resembles a fallen angel, long dark blonde lashes casting shadows on his cheekbones. His shadowy, glass eye strangely adding to the appeal. 

Beautiful. And just not yours. 

One last, lingering look - then you walk away. The silence is deafening, and you feel numb all over. Your knuckles are taut at your sides, fingernails digging in your palms to keep those pesky, errant tears at bay. You’ve suffered defeat before, but this is much worse, because it’s coming solely from your own hand. How easily you give him up, someone who was never yours, and how badly it stings. 

“No,” you hear him say again, and you pray he shuts up so you can keep walking. 

He doesn’t. He repeats the word - no - over and over like some mantra under his breath. One second you feel nothing. Nothing at all. But then the wind whooshes around you and you’re being spun around to face him. 

And then, his lips claim yours, and you feel everything. 

Sounds come rushing back to you. His ragged panting against your lips, the pads of his fingertips kneading the back of your head, the wet smacking of his mouth on your own. The empty pit in your stomach is filled with those clichéd butterflies. More so when one of his hands travels down to grasp your waist and press your body against his. 

“Aem - ” Your mind catches up to you, and you try to say his name to get him to pause, but he slides his tongue past your teeth. 

“Shut up and kiss me, ace.” He breaks free for but a second, then hungrily kisses you again. You let him. You give in completely.

“Mmm, Aemond.” Your hands reach up to cradle his face and he takes that as an opportunity to pull back and openly admire you.

“You’re my ace,” he professes, connecting his forehead to yours. “And I’m not fucking losing you.”

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You rush through the lobby of the hotel, hand in hand and giggling like schoolchildren as you duck your heads so as not to get recognised by the night concierge. 

With reckless abandon, your entwined bodies stumble into his suite, which just happens to be on the floor below yours. You once thought you would have to be inebriated beyond belief to surrender to a sin like this, and in a way you are. You’re high off of him - Aemond in his entirety, six feet of lean muscle, notorious foul-mouthed one-eyed libertine. 

“Fuck, ace.” He has his arms wrapped around you from behind, and he nips at your exposed neck. His touch roams and finds the mounds of your breasts, kneading mindlessly over your shirt. The sound that reverberates from his throat is carnal, and you feel it echo through your whole body. It drives you to press your ass against him, taking full notice of his hardness straining from his sweatpants. 

Feeling mischievous, you do it again, gripping his arms to anchor yourself while grinding against his cock. 

“Foul play,” he whispers against your neck, “you fucking minx.”

“There are no rules now.” You face him, running a finger along his jawline as you walk backward and he follows suit. Stopping at the edge of his bed, you strip out of your shirt, careful to keep your eyes locked on his the whole time. 

The movement is too slow for Aemond, and he desperately needs more. He pushes you onto the mattress and climbs on top of you. He slides your sweatpants off your legs, then lets his hand drag from your ankle to your inner thigh. He promptly undresses, graceless and in a rush, until all his clothes are left in a heap on the carpet. 

His cock stands on attention, taut and goddamn long. You feel an ache below that compels you to rub your legs together, but he beats you to it and slides your underwear right off. “I’ve always wanted to taste you,” he croons. “Bet you taste so sweet.”

You take your bra off and you’re finally left completely bare. He spreads your legs and positions himself in between. He uses one hand to squeeze your breast and the other to keep your legs propped wide open. 

His eye meets yours, before he settles in, lowering his head until he’s breathing cool air onto your pussy. “Match point, ace.” 

You have him. He has you. 

When Aemond’s tongue plunges deep into your throbbing core, swirling inside like he wants to consume you whole, you have to bite your tongue to hold back a scream.

He knows what he’s doing, of course he does, and he’s so fucking good.

“Yes - yes - keep going, baby, fuck -  ” you moan, words breathy and irregular. 

He sticks two fingers into your wetness, using it to spread you wider, leveraging his tongue ever deeper. In and out they go, faster than the fuck, fuck, fucks coming out of your mouth in blissful sputters. 

He suddenly stops, a guttural hmm echoing from his lips, and you look down to see his lips coated in a mixture of his spit and your pre cum. “Not so fast, ace,” he taunts. “You’ll come when I say.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows, still widespread and exposed to him. “What, are you coaching me through it?” 

He hums in affirmative and leans in to kiss you, juices still dripping from his chin. 

“You gonna follow my orders, ace?” he asks, and your mind spirals at how utterly lewd it sounds. 

“Wouldn’t you like that, Targaryen?” You let out another moan, biting your lip when he hungrily sucks on your breast. “Let’s see what you got first.”

He smiles at your playful instigation. It’s always come natural, this riffing back and forth. But this midnight dalliance - he wants it to be honest. He needs you to realise how much he wants you. 

“Yes, ma’am.” He gets on his knees, a hand braced on each of your thighs, his hardened cock at the ready. 

“Ma’am?” you breathe, a laugh dying in your throat when you his tip prods at your entrance.

“I can be agreeable under the right circumstances, ace.” He torments you by pushing his cock in but an inch. 

“Fuck me, Aemond,” you cuss in frustration, then, literally, “Fuck me. Please.”

His eyes take you in, one darkened blue and one ghostly pale glass. “Well, since you asked so nicely,” he says. “You good for it, ace?” He nods once, referring to whether a condom is needed and you take the hint right away.

“Yeah,” you confirm. “Perks of having a top-of-the-line physio team. They hook you up on other things too.” Your cocky-athlete way of stating that you are on the pill. 

The lights are dim in the room, but you clearly see the resolve settle on Aemond’s face. He parts his lips like he wants to say something more, and you tilt your head questioningly. 

He feels the need to make some sort of declaration. Something true. It doesn’t seem right to say those damned three words at this moment, no matter how much he means them. You could think he’s trying to trick you in order to get what he wants. A good lay and nothing else. So he doesn’t say anything and lets the silence speak for itself. If you know him as you claim to, then you’ll see. 

You’ll see just how much this means to him.

You nod, and it’s an unspoken plea. 

He thrusts his cock into you with such force, stretching your walls with a sudden and blinding ache, until he is buried to the hilt. He reaches and cradles your face with one hand, the other keeping your ankle propped by his shoulder. 

“Move, Aem.” You buck your hips against him, his cock squelching in and out again.

“Yeah, baby?” He complies with his hips in response. “That feel good?”

“Yes. God yes.”

A switch flicks inside of him, and he almost snarls through his teeth. “You feel so fucking good, ace. Your pussy takin’ me so well…” His hips buck faster, in abrupt snapping motions, burying his cock each damn time. He connects your legs together and turns you to your side, altering the position slightly. 

You look behind your shoulder and see that feral look etched on his face. His grip is tight on the flesh of your hips and the curve of your ass, having it raised slightly for his convenience. He smacks your behind with an open palm, and it elicits a lusty moan out of you. 

“Fuck, baby,” he rasps. “So beautiful like this, dripping around my fucking cock, huh? My good girl.”

The noises you release as a result are unintelligible. You press your face against the pillow in sheer pleasure, muffling your sounds. 

“I wanna hear you, baby,” Aemond protests. With practised ease, he repositions you so your ass is propped high before him, your body bent forward as you have to lean on your forearms to keep from planting your face on the sheets. 

He doesn’t ease up on his relentless thrusting, and you’re left squirming and cock-drunk. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head, you’re blissed-out on what only Aemond can give you.

“Does he fuck you as good?” he spits in obvious distaste. “I don’t think so, baby. Can’t fuck this pussy like I do.” 

“N-no,” you whimper, without any trace of guilt. “Only you, Aem.”

“Hmm,” he simpers. “Come for me, ace. Be a good girl now. Come around my cock, yeah?”

“Mhhmm,” you pant, growing weaker and weaker at his statements, your walls tensing for that release you crave.

“You’re mine, ace. Mine.”

Your whimper comes out sudden and unrestrained as you let go, and feel your warm juices leaking down your thighs. The sounds of his cock growing noisy and sloppier. He releases not long after, with a few sharp spasms, decorating your insides with his cum. 

Marking someone who is not supposed to be his. 

But nothing else matters as he crumples against you and pulls you into his arms. If something is to be reconciled with, it won’t be for tonight.

With these things, regret always comes along with the sunrise.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

“40 - 30.”

The crowd cheers at the umpire’s announcement. You can barely make out the faces morphing together into one homogeneous mob, but you’ve observed enough to know that Aemond isn’t among them. Rivulets of sweat drip down your face and you walk to the side as another break starts. 

Helaena nods at you from the opposite side of the court, and you respond with a terse smile.

She resembles him so much - the one you’ve been avoiding for the past three days. With that same distinct shade of blonde hair and deep blue eyes, but possessing an aura of tenderness about her. If Aemond wasn’t lying about her plan to retire, then it makes perfect sense. She seems too good for the sport, too pure, whereas you fit right into its cruel constraints.

What sort of person would have done what you did, some nights ago, and be able to walk with their head held high? You want to believe that you regret sleeping with Aemond, that you would reverse your actions, given the chance. But the pain that eats at you is that you might have fucked things up for good, abruptly leaving before he woke up that morning. 

It’s ironic - you may just get what you said you wanted. To end things. Never to be the same with him again. 

You slump in your seat, wiping at your face with a towel, pushing all thought of Aemond from your mind. 

From your periphery, you catch Helaena gesturing to you. She smiles, and you think that your emotions must show so clearly on your face that she feels bad for you. 

She nods, and tilts her head to the side, so that you follow her gaze. Standing courtside, partially hidden in the corner just behind the barriers, you see Aemond closely watching you. 

He came after all. You turn back to Helaena, unable to hide your surprise, and she sends another smile your way. She knows. Of course she does. 

With renewed excitement, the match continues. It only takes one more point, one final ace, and you emerge triumphant. The court fills with cheers and sounds of celebration. It is declared that you are advancing to the next round of the tournament. You meet Helaena in the middle and she firmly shakes your hand, exhibiting no sign of disappointment. 

“Congratulations! Very well played.” She drops her racket and grasps your hand with both of hers. She leans closer, and adds, “You know, I also consider it a win for myself, because my last ever match is against the girl my brother is in love with.”

You forget where you are, the revelation rendering everything else moot. The cheering crowds disappear, and it’s just you and Helaena as she dips her head comfortingly, assuring you that you heard her words true.

“I’m sure I’ll see you soon,” she lets go finally, with a cheerful, “go celebrate!”

You feel yourself being whisked away, cameras flashing from all sides. Art appears in front of you and he pulls you into an embrace. Several onlookers gush at the sight. You barely take notice of them, your eyes already drifting to where Aemond was standing. 

There he remains, casually leaning against the barriers. Some audience members realise that the great Aemond Targaryen stands among them, and one by one a small crowd forms around him, asking for pictures and autographs.

He continues to hold your gaze, his usual smirk making an appearance, ignoring a guy waving a camera at his face. You shake your head at the scene, a genuine laugh bubbling from your lips.

You nod to each other, as if acknowledging the absurdity of it all, and leave it at that. There’s a lot more to be said, for another time. Art wraps his arm around your waist, and Aemond takes it as his cue to look away, relenting to the eager fans surrounding him.

You direct your gaze to your boyfriend, immediately seeing the recognition in Art’s eyes. He’s seen everything. 

He doesn’t need to be as acutely perceptive as Helaena to realise the truth. That of the one-eyed rogue and his ace. You’ve been drifting from him for so long, that it was only a matter of time. 

He was your friend first, and he always will be. You’ve watched each other grow, through endless mistakes and challenges, and there’s a fire in you he cannot match. 

But Aemond can. He knows this now. 

He extends a hand out to you, one which you accept with poorly masked caution. He understands how woeful it must be, to tear yourself apart from being in love with someone else. The shame and uncertainty that must entail. 

For both your sakes, he decides that he has to be the bigger person and do the right thing. 

“What do you say?” Art offers to you. “Post match treat?” he asks, referring to your tradition of sharing a large strawberry sundae after games. 

“Okay.” Your smile is sweet and unguarded, and it reminds him of when you first met, nearly six years ago. That day, he knew he had made a lifelong friend. 

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

“I wish I could say I’m happy to see you here, but we did once promise not to lie to each other.”

Aemond swivels toward the sound of your voice, cigarette smoke billowing from his lips. 

“Vile habit, Targaryen.” You wrinkle your nose, and he just shakes his head and crushes the butt of his cigarette under his shoe.

“Yeah, well.” He merely shrugs. He was dead set on quitting, but something came up the past couple of days, causing his anxiety to reach new heights. When you ignored him after the night you shared, he can’t fault himself for reaching for depraved solace in nicotine. But no substance would ever be enough to erase the precious memory of watching you come undone. 

“Not happy to see me, ace?” he refers back to your greeting, not bothering to hide the hurt he feels. 

You walk closer to him, trying to hold back a smile. “Well, I lied. But it’s not like I haven’t lied before.” You stop when you’re right in front of him, the remnants of his smoke making you feel woozy. “I also lied when I said that we can’t keep being us anymore. When I said goodbye.”

“Hmm,” his lips curl at your confession. “Judging by how wildly you fucked me after you said that, I could already tell.”

You roll your eyes, but you already feel so much better, like things are falling right back into place. All it took was some teasing from the apparently callous, sharp-tongued, ambitious-to-a-fault boy standing before you. 

A boy who revealed the true depths of his compassion only to you. He let you thaw out his cold heart from its confines and declared it yours. 

“Something more to say, ace?” he asks.

“You first.”

“Are you kidding? Why don’t you play this game with your boyfriend?”

You share a lingering look, effectively answering his question. The unabashed shit-eating smile that breaks out on his face is enough to tell you just how he feels. 

“Don’t gloat,” you warn him, but he’s already pulled you flush against him with both arms. “I also need a new coach.”

“Mhmm,” he nods, not really in response to your statement. “Save that for later, ace. Please shut the hell up and kiss me.”

He can’t help but smile through kisses, his lips chasing yours when you make an effort to pull away and say something more. 

“Aemond, will you - ”

“Fuckin’ - ” a cuss slips from him when you manage to break apart, depriving him of your lips. He answers impatiently, “Yes of course, I’ll be your coach, ace. Of course. Happy? I’ll be anything you want me to be.”

Before he leans in once more, you say, “Don’t you dare fuck this up, Targaryen.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, my love.”

You lean back in mild surprise.

He laughs, “I mean - ace - or my love. Either one applies, really.”

"I... I prefer ace," you say weakly.

"Now, now, my love. I thought we promised not to lie to each other?"

taglist (all who commented on this post - surprise double feature incoming!) : @odeioemail @sapphossongbird @toodlesxcuddles @sinistersnakey9419 @fan-goddess @jhroseok @diannnsss @dixie-elocin @tostadasdetinga @1-800shootmeplease @goldyfishsstuff @pineappleicelostmary @raging-panda

Should you wish to be added to the Aemond (or Daemon) taglist, please comment on this post!

[moonsaver]

Imagine instead of 4ggravate being a kpop boy group and reader being the fangirl, its the other way around

4ggravate forms a groupchat particularly because of you, their bias, who is also the least recognized in your group and is often overshadowed by others, leading to a desperate convergence of your fans in finding out the itty bitty stuff about you that's all on blast when it comes to the other idols in your group. They're like detectives trying to figure out whether you liked the specific flavor of ice cream on a show you participated in with your group. Each of them keep tabs on any official updates about you, recording and clipping parts of your group's lives in the tidbits where you come in, and forming a wall trying to defend you from majority of the fandom when you get backlash from false rumors. That's just how the group came to be.

Kaveh is the oldest fan amongst them – he's been there since day 1. Claims he knows the most out of all of them and tries to prove it via quizzes and guessing games. Sometimes he wins, most times he doesn't. Also the poorest of the four. He spent so much on buying your specific merchandise he didn't plan for the future concert you group was holding in his area, and ever since then he's had to tearfully decide constantly between buying albums, your photocards, new lightstick versions, etc.. and your concert that may or may not even be held in the area.

In the rare chance that he does attend your concert – he tries to get the most out of it. Front row, headbands, fanchant at the top of his head, lightsticks in both hands. When you notice him and exchange a few words over the loud crowd, he swears he's going to pass out, looking up at your crouched figure on the stage makes you look almost like an angel to him, the light highlighting your figure perfectly. Suffice to say, he eventually made an impression on you at least.. because he passed out and the crowd had to surf him to a security guard. He's deeply embarassed about it, and can't really escape it now that he's become a bit of an inside joke in your fandom

Cyno is the second older fan. Like Kaveh, he prides himself over having a good amount of knowledge about you that's not exactly easy to find – old, old, old images of other kpop idols in which you appear for a fraction of a second, spotting the products you use in your lives and being able to find out the brands is his specialty. If Kaveh has the knowledge, Cyno at least has the detective skills. He has his own individually run fanpage where most other fanpages, even your group's fanpages, refer to as a trusted source. Has also managed to create several fancams of you that were incredibly hard to get ahold of. He's those fanpages on twitter who thoroughly collect evidence and manage to pinpoint future events you're going to take part in before they're announced, and he manages to predict it correctly almost all the time. He's well known within the fandom, but due to how busy he is in 4ggravate trying to form a cumulative plan almost all the time, rarely does he find the time to respond to other fans and fanpages, and most other admins don't usually approach him either.

If anything, at least he's got more resources and money than Kaveh. I imagine he actually also is in a lot of other groups besides 4ggravate.

Alhaitham, out of everyone, is the one who's actually talked to you the most. He was originally just interested in the music, didn't really care until he realized how less and less your lines became the more songs your group churned out. So in his mind, to "make up for" the lack of lines on your end, he decides to simply just pay extra attention to your solo activities. It's not soon before you become his bias. Unlike Kaveh, he was pretty strategic and managed to plan ahead for scheduled fancalls, fanmeetings, appearances in public, etc..

he leaves a lasting impression because.. he doesn't show his appearance. At all. There's many fans out there who get your attention by doing strange things with their appearance, but Alhaitham refuses to even take off his mask just to talk to you. In fancalls, he decides to cover the cameras, always wears hoodies that cover him completely when he meets you in public. At some point, the fandom falls in love with him instead (which drives Kaveh insane), and it's not soon before there's all sorts of rumors about you two. The rumors get more wild when he only ever takes his hoodie off once when you meet him face to face. Personality wise, he sticks out because of how easily he's able to spot changes in choreography, voice, pitch, writing style, etc.. and even more so, because of how upfront about it he is, without actually being creepy about it. He gives good advice without making it sound like unwelcome criticism.

Tighnari is actually the normal one. He just generally likes the music and likes your voice specifically because he thinks your voice suits the concept the best, but because of a few injustices (which he sarcastically comments on many fancams, to which also many fans agree), he finds himself doing something similar to Alhaitham. Albeit, less.. detailed? Is what he thinks. He's actually a bit of a keyboard warrior when it comes down to it – replying to group threads that intentionally leave you out, having the sassiest comebacks to mean or rude comments about you, piecing together timelines and locations to prove false rumors wrong, working especially close with Cyno in these kinds of cases. If there's a fancam of you, Tighnari is under it fighting some or the other hater, or just blatantly commenting on the event itself that intentionally disrespects you or your group.

He's probably the only one who actually leaves a long lasting impression on you. When your car drives by a bunch of your excited fans, he's the normal one who's looking on calmly and waving to you with a stoic face. Whenever he comes to fanmeetings with Alhaitham, or has fancalls with you – it's fun! His humor is easy to accustom to, conversation goes lightly, and overall he's the tamest out of everyone. He gives you some skincare advice which you gladly accept, and somehow, despite not being as incriminating as the others when it came to detail, they're salty about how he seems to be the one who's closest to you. It's not unnoticeable the way out of all four of them, you recognize him by a first name basis. Ohhh boy.

[hobby1008]

Mask

If you use a translator, the sentences may be strange.

sullyoon x m reader

Tags: non-con

NMIXX's sullyoon had a beautiful appearance, a body, and milky skin, everything a man could not hate. She had great skills, a bright personality, and a good image.

But it was all a mask. She was a bully who bullied me in school, and I had been waiting to get revenge on her.

I asked a detective agency to find out sullyoon's contact information and sent her a threatening text. She replied to my text right away with evidence of her bullying me in school and her past actions.

Instead of asking her about her past, I asked her to come to the meeting place and grant all my demands.

I arrived at the meeting place 10 minutes early. When I arrived, sullyoon was already there, and as soon as she saw my face, she ran over and apologized and asked for my forgiveness.

But my anger didn't subside with that much, so I got straight to the point.

“If you give me a chance to eat that beautiful body, I’ll forgive you.” She was shocked by my words and remained silent for a while.

I approached her and smiled and said, “Decide whether you’ll eat me and continue your celebrity life or end it like this.” “Please, can’t you give me something else? Money? I can give you as much money as you want.” She begged me to do so.

But I ignored her wishes and caressed her cheek again and said, “Suck my dick, sullyoon.”

Then, thinking that there was no more way out, she knelt in front of me and took off my pants to reveal my dick.

Maybe because of her face, I was already erect, and she immediately stroked my dick and opened her mouth to suck my dick.

For some reason, she began to suck my dick with great skill. She sucked my entire cock while shaking her head back and forth, and then licked my glans gently with her tongue, pleasuring me, and I asked her skillfully for a titjob, and she took off her top without saying anything, revealing her breasts.

I spread my legs wider to give her enough space to kneel between them. Sullyoon stroked my cock a few more times with her spit-soaked hand and began to slowly rub my cock against her right breast, making her head rub over her nipple and covering it with my cum, and both of us moaned in excitement. She bent down to lick my cock again before placing it between her soft breasts, squeezing it tightly with her hand and starting to rub his hard cock up and down, applying enough pressure. I couldn't take my eyes off his cock between her soft breasts. It was sliding in between them easily, and her breast felt so soft in contrast to her hard ribs that I felt underneath.

I almost ejaculated due to sullyoon's skillful caress, but I couldn't ejaculate without tasting her pussy, so I held it back desperately,

and ordered her to stand against the wall, then I pulled down her panties to her thighs and started to insert my cock into her pussy.

I smiled and slowly slid into her body.

She started to groan and pant at my penetration.

"Sullyoon, your pussy is so tight." I groaned and grabbed her buttocks more tightly with my hands.

Then, "Pant like a whore who wants my pussy, sullyoon."

She immediately said, "Harder, harder. Don't eat my pussy." She panted without a moment's hesitation,

and I began to question her skill, and I caressed both of her nipples with my hands and praised her.

Then she confessed that she had given her body to the CEO and sponsors during her debut, and I humiliated her even more. “Our sullyoon was a total rag, of course, compared to that, it’s delicious and soft.” I continued to humiliate her while panting, and before I knew it, I could feel my orgasm rising and my testicles tightening.

I made her kneel in front of me, and stroked my cock, and my cum poured out on sullyoon’s face.

She closed her eyes and savored the feeling of my cum touching her skin without any resistance.

I took a picture of her and showed it to her, saying, “From now on, come to me once a week and spread your legs, sullyoon, if you don’t want this picture and the fact that you bullied me to be revealed.”

She nodded at my words, and I left right away.

[mischiefmaker615]

Reunion

Summary: Loki could never forget about you.. 

Rating: PG

Theme Song: Don't Walk Away by Electric Light Orchestra

Note: I'm not to keen on following the movies like this, but it was a fun lil dabble in the realm of "imagine" LOL 

He was gorgeous.. the eyes of you could get lost in and not once crave to be found if that be your eternity..

Although you knew there was no future between you both with your desires being met, friendship was given in abundance if that was all that could be offered.

You were his Little Calvary, a nickname you earned when you once stopped his horse from bucking him off when it got spooked by something in the woods. It was the first time you’ve met, seen each other with such a speechless reaction that your stalemate was hard to break. Grins were exchanged, conversations were shared and by the time you both reached the palace.. it was the last your friendship could be seen.

He was a royal, you were a warrior- once a palace guard, then upgraded when your skillset had improved. As much as you would have loved to spend time with him in a more.. casual setting- more so the gardens, perhaps the library or even the same table at dinner.. all you both could do was sneak a few favored glances and whisper words when at rare times, stood by on your way to battle.

Youd be banished.. perhaps punished, who knows. You weren’t allowed to court or purse the royal line.. it was forbidden, seeing how it may taint the throne’s image. He would most certainly be declined more of a chance for the throne, finding how he put his focus elsewhere than ruling. Your friendship was silenced but shared in a gaze.

The way his face lit up in recognition whenever he saw you- somehow being able to find you in a crowd or just entering the room. Your heart fluttered, longing to hold more than one minute talks or feel his hand on your knuckles the way he greeted more.. higher stature girls at festivals. You were merely stuck bowing, offering “yes” or “no your majesty.” You wondered if he longed for you the way you longed for him..

You could swear by the gods his eyes told you so…

Until one day, he was gone. Gone and the Bifrost broken. You had returned from battle Odin had sent you on with a group, continuing to protect the realm even when the king had fallen into the Odin Sleep while you were away and dare you even think it may be a chance to get to see each other properly..

It was a long excursion and by the end of it all, Asgard had to bring your group back through another way- one of Asgard’s many hidden entrances because you had received news that the Bifrost had broken. So many questions.. but what had you broken was finding out that the second prince of Asgard.. was gone.

It was one thing knowing he was gone.. it was another not knowing how or why. You spent sleepless nights, crying and longing for the moments you should have taken, the regrets that could have been erased if only you had taken the chance to speak to him or even sneak to see him.. but it was to late. By the time you had gotten your bearings in the agonizingly long weeks of trying to return things to normal on Asgard, you had decided to leave.

Midgard was the only place you could go, their people resembling the appearance of an Asgardian so it be safe to walk amongst them in secret.

Life was difficult.. you realized just how hard it was if one had been banished here. There was so much hate.. sadness, starvation and lack of empathy. You strived to fix all that, taking every opportunity you could to help, feed and assist until one day you were approached by a man in a black suit.

Coulson saw your potential, helped teach and train through his people until you fought and worked for those known as SHIELD. A team was assembled, those who held strong and inventive abilities where Director Fury’s goal was formulating into the team he hoped for.

The Avengers.

There came a time when the truth of who you really were, had to be shared. Finding how much advantage you really had as an Asgardian, you were debriefed and prepared yet no one told you about the threat you were being prepared for.. one step at a time, focus on what needed to get done now.

It took that one night where you drove yourself to the disturbance, having caught signals where Natasha was headed in the jet and decided to get some answers yourself. Germany had been your harboring spot anyway and you were lucky enough to have the fight come to you rather than have to take a jet yourself.

The taxi could have driven much faster and if you were honest with yourself, wish you could have just ‘borrowed’ the car for a much faster speed. Leaning forward from where you sat in the back, you pointed to help navigate, indicating to a building where a ton of people began running out of.

‘’there! Pull up right there!” you tell him quickly, trying to strain your eyes while a figure seemed to have some strange glow around him. the car listened, heading right towards it with no question while your eyes struggled to see more of the mysterious figure.

A flash of blue then blinded your eyes, seeing the beam heading right at you at the last minute while your body tensed ‘’shit-!” you cry out, the blast shooting the back of the car upwards before it slid along the street, the driver crying out in panic while your hands gripped the seats beside you and your seatbelt locking. By the time you realized what was happening, the car was already tipping before you both found yourselves hanging in a now, upside down car.

The jolt had you bumping everywhere, the taxi driver grunting before he went still, arms hanging down and unconscious while you winced and hung as well. ‘’shit.. shit shit shit..’’ you mumbled the adopted Midgardian slang while you had a throbbing in your head and your hand moved to unbuckle your seatbelt.

Landing wasn’t comfortable, and you carefully crawled out the window with broken glass licking at your sides while your used your forearms to army crawl out. your eyes raised, finding the figure having made his way across the street while your body nearly froze at the sight of him.

His horned helmet sat proudly upon his raven black hair. His long, green cape swayed with his movements and against the gold armor he had on every limb. A scepter was gripped in his hand, the familiar blue orb glowing in its center where you nearly felt sick at knowing what it was. You blinked, looking at the back of the figure while you remained on the ground, trying to figure out if you had merely bumped your head hard enough, or you knew exactly who was standing before you.

‘’Loki?..’’ your voice whispered, nearly choking back on the lump in your throat while tears threatened to spill form wide eyes. You didn’t think he had heard you until he surprised you by turning around.

His blue orbs landed upon you, danger piercing your own for merely a second before his eyes grew wide and his body froze. His expression was blank, watching how you slowly brought yourself up onto your knees weakly while your eyes never left his. Your lips were parted, as was his, as if words threatened to spill but neither of you made the move to speak.

Just as you had those many years ago..

‘’..Y/N..’’ he breathed, his scepter lowering to his side and his grip weak while he took a shocking step back with realization hitting.

‘’yes.. yes Loki.. it’s me..’’ you breathed, your breathing quickened while your nails dug into your palms, emotions running through you while you felt the tears continue to spill down your cheeks.

‘’but.. how?” he breathed, a small step coming towards you before his eyes flicked up to see the taxi behind you, upturned and crashed. ‘’..oh gods.. Y/N- are you- gah!” he then winced, a hand moving up to his temple while he took a step back, causing your body to tense while a hand reached out towards him.

‘’Loki- what are you-‘’

His scepter grew bright, his eyes squeezed shut while he seemed to be in some sort of pain until the brightness of the orb subsided to normal. His eyes then opened, a blank and expressionless look came to his features while he straightened and looked down at you with mild disgust. ‘’just in the position you ought to be, mortal.’’ He snapped before his head whipped around by the sound of people and screamed, his body instantly moving into action while he approached the crowd. ‘’kneel before me..’’

Your eyes were wide as he left you, watching in horror as he got the whole crowd to kneel before him with just a shout of his voice and a threat in his hand. What was he doing? How was he here? What had gotten into him- why was he so cold to you?

Those eyes… those eyes just as you had seen them before he turned his back to you.. those weren’t his.. that wasn’t the Loki you knew.. what had happened? Your eyes blinked the tears away, your breath quickening while your mind struggled to figure out what to do.

‘’glad you’re here, you okay?” a voice brought your attention back, as did the hand on your shoulder while you raised your eyes to find Steve Rogers at your side. ‘’I recognize the badge, Nat is on her way, we need to get to the injured, okay?” he told you, causing you to blink down at your arm, the SHIELD patch staring back at you while he took a step towards the scene.

‘’start with him’’ he pointed behind you before running towards Loki.

Your eyes snapped behind you, finding the taxi driver groaning while he still hung from his chair in the car. Your body tensed, bringing itself back while you carefully got to your feet and cast a glance over to where Steve jumped in front of a civilian just as Loki had blasted at him.

Your Loki…

No.. the Loki you knew wouldn’t do this.. your adrenaline fueled your movements, eyes focusing while you got yourself to turn away from the scene and towards the man that needed your help. Rogers will take care of this.. Nat is on her way, but you’d make sure they’d be taking you with them when everything is in order here. You saw it in his eyes, he recognized you.. but more so, you saw the longing for help in his eyes that spoke a thousand words within your silent friendship you both still stared.

And you’d be damned sure you would be getting your Loki back. 

Tag List: @foxherder13 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @fire-in-her-veinz @nervouseden @kathren1sky-blog @eleniblue @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @queenofstarsign85 @slytherinqueen4life @soulpiercing @jaidenhawke @thatonemjaja @allbymyself17 @asgards-trickster-god

[mrsriddlenott]

Could u pls do a pt 2 to patience? 😭🧎🏼‍♀️

Yessss Yes I can🥰 I think I got a bit carried away not gonna lie but this may be my favorite thing I’ve written on here so I hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

Patience Pt2

[masterlist][Pt1]

Bf!Mattheo Riddle x fem!Reader

Warnings:Smut,OrgasmDenial,D/S Dynamics, Exhibitionism/PublicSex,Teasing, Dacryphilia(kinda), Unprotected PinV.

It didn’t take Mattheo long to begin exploring his newly found kink, and it soon became his utmost favorite thing to do. He’d innocently smile across from you at dinner as you stumble over your words, his voice filling your mind with promises of what he’d do to you later. He’d sit beside you in class, dutifully taking notes for you both as he distracted you with images of him taking you on that very desk.

“Do you like that Princess? Do you want me to fuck you in front of everyone?” Thankfully you’d grown rather good at hiding moans and gasps from his surprises, much to his dismay. So he just found new ways to earn those pretty noises. Some days he’d tease you relentlessly without ever allowing you to touch him outside of your thoughts until you were too needy to care about the noises you’d make. On other days he’d discreetly bring his hand down to run his fingertips along the top of your thigh while he told you how much he needed you in your mind. All the while never intending to give you anything, just to make you act like a needy little brat so he’d get to treat you accordingly.

Today Mattheo had decided to try a new mix of the two, he figured if he put enough thought into it he could make you feel anything he wanted you to, anywhere he wanted you to. Just the thought of you coming in your seat at merely imagining his touch had Mattheo struggling to fit his dick behind his zipper that morning. At breakfast he did his best to act as calm as possible as he took his usual seat across from you with a smile, “Good morning Gorgeous, did you sleep well?”

As soon as he watched your lips go to form your sentence, he concentrated on your beautiful mind and how amazing it would feel to please you from under the table, forcing a rush of warmth to run directly up your inner thigh as though Mattheo had just gotten on his knees and licked his way below your skirt. He took the light gasp and widened eyes as evidence enough of his plan working, the human mind was after all, more or less, a mass of cords he could rewire at his will.

The corners of Mattheo’s mouth rising into a wicked grin told you all you needed to know, whimpering slightly as the sensation of his teeth marking your thigh flooded your nerve endings. “You like that Baby? New little trick of mine. Are you okay with it?” The way he nonchalantly ate scrambled eggs and watched your face as though he wasn’t giving you phantom kisses across your naval had you squirming in your seat and falling into a submissive state.

You knew he wouldn’t use any of his mind tricks to hurt or control you. Or do anything you said not to for that matter, but knowing he could, knowing that he was in fact taught to use magic for mental manipulation to do just that to enemies of his father, had a rush of heat shooting to your core that dampened your panties as you nodded your head quickly. Mattheo arched his eyebrows at you while he smiled into his juice after having read your thoughts, he knew you loved the sense of control he had over you in moments like these and he absolutely adored when you were his good girl.

But today, he wanted the bratty, attitude filled y/n that had him tightened against his jeans from the day he met you. And he was hell bent on bringing her out to play.

He was painfully hard and growing more so while he watched you try not to move as his nonexistent fingers ghosted over your clit. He was teasing himself just as much as he was you, wishing he could feel and taste your wetness he was positive was accumulating between your thighs. Mattheo wanted to punish you, he wanted you to be looking up at him with glossy eyes and begging in that adorably whiny little voice of yours by the end of the day. And being the fair boyfriend he was, he’d never punish you without reason…….so he’d make a reason.

“Words Darling.” You huffed at him, scrunching your eyebrows together from across the table. Mattheo could tell you weren’t going to last very long, but he had a lot planned for you nevertheless. He waved his hand out, urging you to speak as he kept eating his breakfast.

“Y-yea,” You managed, gripping the table with a gasp as Mattheo’s imaginary tongue slid between your folds without warning. “What was that Baby? Sorry I couldn’t hear you.” He teased, eyes watching you like a hawk as you steadied yourself against the table. He bit back a grin as he reveled in the fact that not a single soul but you and him knew what he was making you feel right now.

“Yes,” You said louder, in a breathy voice as he made you feel his tongue repeatedly flicking at your clit below your underwear at an unrelenting pace, before abruptly ending his assault on your nerves with an innocent smile.

“You didn’t think I’d give it to you all at once did you?” He chuckled at your desperation, looking forward to the day ahead of him even more so now with your shiny eyes looking to him as a pout formed on your lips.

“Eat, I know you’re hungry,” Mattheo spoke calmly and sweetly, but with the edge of dominance that let you know he was planning on continuing this game until you couldn’t think properly. You huffed and scowled at him as you grabbed for his muffin, stealing it from him as he watched how you were growing frustrated with a content smile.

~~~~

He started off slowly in your first class of the day. He knew you weren’t great at Potions and knew you’d absolutely Crucio him if you failed this pop quiz. So he’d opted for relaxing you with the feeling of kisses along your neck and making it feel as though he was squeezing your shoulders comfortingly while correcting your mistakes from the back of your thoughts before you wrote them. He’d ever so slightly drag his imaginary teeth across your sweet spot every once in a while, teasing you as you jumped slightly before continuing on with his sweet pecks. Leaving you soaked and wanting more as you began to wiggle in your seat and huff in annoyance, something Mattheo found oh so pleasing.

~~~~

History of Magic, however, was a different story. As soon as Professor Binns began speaking, you felt Mattheo’s large calloused hands running up the fronts of your thighs as though he was knelt before you. For a second your eyes fell below the desk, watching the empty air thinking for sure you’d find a second Mattheo as his phantom fingers slipped beneath the hem of your underwear. Mattheo bit at his knuckle with a smile as he watched you looking for his nonexistent hands, squirming in your seat less than a foot away from him. “I wish I could feel you for real Princess,”

The sudden feeling of bites, and kisses, and licks almost made you forget not to speak, catching yourself just in time to thinking clearly for him to hear, “Hypothetically you could.” Mattheo giggled at you, shaking his head mockingly as he leant on his arms, smiling at you like a sweetheart who wasn’t planning on relentlessly teasing you all day.

“Wake me up before the bell Princess.” Mattheo sighed with a fake yawn and a wink before closing his eyes and focusing solely on your pleasure. Mattheo saw himself in the room, as though he was a ghost out of his own body, kneeling before you under the desk like worship. He wasted no time in delving into you, sucking at your clit and making you jolt forward in your seat next to him. A boyish grin grew on his real face beside you as he smiled into your legs in your mind.

His tongue maintained a brutal pace as you wiggled in your seat, going back and forth from sucking and flicking with his tongue, making out with your pussy until he was certain you were going to explode. Removing the sensation before quickly shoving two of his imaginary fingers into you, forcing you to audibly gasp as Mattheo hummed approvingly beside you. It felt like you were actually being stretched around air below the lace of your underwear as a shiver ran down your spine. Mattheo slowly stimulated your g-spot from the back of your mind, making it increasingly difficult to remain quiet and still as your walls clenched around nothing. Your thighs instinctively came together to rub against each other but the feeling of his nonexistent fingers remained, not quite enough to push you over the edge on their own.

“Oh, are you tired of me already Princess? I guess I can give you a break then.” And with that, the sensation stopped. A desperate whine of a “No” almost falling from your lips as your mind spoke it to it’s invader, huffing and taking shallow breaths. Mattheo cracked an eye to watch you as you leant back in your chair, brows furrowed and arms crossed with a pout on your face, he was close.

~~~~

In Transfiguration he didn’t even warn you. As you were sat beside Mattheo like always, almost forgetting the game at play, suddenly Mattheo found his way into your mind again, making you feel filled with his phantom fingers once more. Mattheo remained focused ahead, showing no signs of remorse as you let out a frustrated hmph that made his dick twitch in his pants while you eyed his side profile angrily.

“Patience Gorgeous…” He spoke in a slow, dominant voice in your thoughts as he side eyed you, writing something down you’d entirely missed. “How about this Baby,” He started in a soothing voice, slowly drawing his imaginary fingers in and out of you, “If you can get through the rest of class without coming, I’ll get you out of here and give you a proper fuck. What d’ya say?”

You were nodding your head eagerly before he was even finished, “tsk tsk, I know you know the rules Baby,” You narrowed your eyes at him defiantly as Mattheo halted his actions on your notes paper, eyeing you with raised eyebrows like a challenge, just waiting for you to disobey him. The feeling of his other hand gripping at your thigh distracted you as your eyes shot to where it should have been before giving in, biting your lip to hold back a moan at his tightening phantom grip.

“I can, yes,” You whispered in a voice you weren’t quite sure he even heard at first. “You can what?” He whispered back in a cockily smooth, silky voice that sent shivers down your spine and directly to your core. You gave him pleading eyes as you brought your bottom lip between your teeth, silently begging him to just take your answer as your eyes began to water.

He swore he was about to cum in his pants at the sight of you all needy over him manipulating your mind in just the right way. Mattheo gave you a mocking little laugh before giving in to you as he always would. He loved to think he was in control but even Mattheo knew he’d give you absolutely anything you wanted if you gave him those eyes. Before you had time to react, he was diving into your mind again with no warning.

“Gods, you’re such a pathetic little girl aren’t you?” You almost screamed in pleasure as you felt the fingers of his other hand suddenly rubbing fast circles on your sensitive clit while the other pounded into you at a brutal pace. “You wish these were my real fingers don’t you Princess? Wish everyone could hear the mess I’m making of you?” You nodded weakly as you rested your head on the desk in front of you, his unrelenting attack of your nerves making it difficult to concentrate on being discreet.

“Don’t worry, I wish it was too. Do you want my cock next Gorgeous?” You couldn’t respond to him, any and all thoughts too jumbled to not accidentally slip past your lips. “I know you do, because you’re a needy little thing, but you’re getting the real deal, not some day dream Darling, so you’ll just have to wait.”

You whimpered into the wood of the desk as you rubbed your thighs together, throbbing and clenching around nothing before looking up to see Mattheo watching you with a hand beneath the desk. You were desperate for a real touch and wanted his hand on you and not him and he knew it. He knew you wouldn’t risk reaching for him and getting him caught also, so he reveled in your teary eyes watching him palm his leaking dick over his jeans.

Suddenly, just as the bell rang, the assault of your senses stopped as Mattheo jumped to gather yours and his things, messily shoving it in both of your bags at random before grabbing for your wrist and tugging you out the door behind him. Your legs were weak and wobbling as you clung to his hand and let him pull you into a classroom only three corridors away from the packed hallway of students transitioning into their next class.

He shoved you through as he slammed the door with a muttered locking and silencing charm before roughly grabbing at your waist. Mattheo yanked you up to him as you subconsciously wrapped your legs around him, meeting his eyes before he practically threw you onto the closest desk. His lips attacked your neck forcing out a pornographic moan from you, grateful to finally be touched.

He wasted no time in roughly ripping at your underwear, tearing them in the middle as his other hand worked to remove his belt and free himself from his boxers. He haphazardly shoved his pants and boxers halfway down his thighs as his dick bounced out against his stomach making him hiss. Mattheo grabbed at the back if your neck, tangling his fingers in your hair, pulling your lips to his in a passionate kiss.

You both were breathing heavily into eachothers mouths as his tongue forced itself against yours, immediately claiming dominance and sighing in satisfaction. Without warning Mattheo’s hands moved to grip your hips, and jolted you forward onto his red, leaking dick. Forcing breathy moans from the both of you as your lips ghosted against each others. “Fucking hell you’re fucking dripping for me.”

“Please fuck me Matty,” You begged, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling yourself off the desk as his arms immediately snaked around your waist to hold you on his dick. You were tired of his teasing and tired of his games, you wanted control of it and whether he realized it or not, he’d handed it to you.

“Anything for you my Princess,” he whispered, placing a delicate kiss to your lips which quickly turned heated as he began to ram into you. Your fingers got lost in his curls as you mindlessly bucked against him with his pace, arching over the table against him. Mattheo chased your lips with his as they left him making you giggle and tug at his hair forcing a groan from the back if his throat.

In a flash he’d forced your back flat against the table, hovering over you with dark eyes and his signature smile. “I want a kiss Baby” He said slowly and sweetly, in direct contrast of the way he was driving into your g-spot over and over. He smashed his lips into yours, nipping at your bottom lip as your nails dug into his back through his shirt. You clenched around him as your legs shook with the table, your vision going slightly blurry with euphoria as you came undone below him.

You let your head fall back as Mattheo lead a trail of kisses and bites up and down your neck as his movements became sloppy and his moans grew louder. You rode out your high as he stuttered above you, clutching at the edge of the desk that bounced against the floor, biting at your neck to quiet himself as he filled you with his cum.

“Fuck Matty,” You sighed as he chuckled and looked up to meet your eyes, his hair was damp with sweat and his curls hung over his eyes as he looked at you with a shockingly innocent smile.

~~~~

I honestly love this so much🫣

~HP Taglist~

@timmytime17 @talia-scar123 @spencer-reids-wife @ttsbaby01 @animorose @whydoireadanymore @thievin-stealing @spiderman-stilinski @evycloudberry @shady-the-simp @ashisabitgay @callsignwidow @cicicicicisstuff @mattheoriddleswifee @junebugin-july @moonlightreader649 @devotedlyshadowytheorist @rubyliquor @perverteddsdreams @mildly-delulu @fairydimples07 @shadowmoonlight0604 @80scinemvasworld @nevillescomslut @annaisabookworm @porterport @abaker74 @athenalikethegoddess

[biocrafthero]

Project Sekai - White Day AU Card Lore/Story Masterpost

In other words: I've become obsessed with a very niche part of this game for no discernible reason and have decided to make my gathered knowledge into a post...

NOTE: This post was written before the 2025 White Day event, so some parts may be missing information or incorrect. All information being referenced comes from the Sekaipedia fan wiki.

(I have decided to put this under a Read More because this is so ungodly lengthy that it has taken actual hours for me to write. I hit the image limit on browser, which is 30. If I didn't put this under a Read More I would've been killed with hammers.)

What is White Day AU?

White Day AU is based off of a series of cards that began releasing in 2022 with the White Day event titled "The Gentleman Thief's Thrilling White Day!?". While at first it may seem like a case of colopale putting the characters in a fun setting with cool outfits, it has become more and more apparent that, with the more White Day events that release, the more this universe is getting expanded upon.

I spent some time last month going over the cards that have released over the course of four separate events, pouring over details in the characters' outfits and the environments that surround them in the illustrations in an attempt to parse what kind of story colopale seems to be telling with these cards.

The events/gachas that all contain White Day AU cards are as follows:

The Gentleman Thief's Thrilling White Day!? - Knights of White

Never Give Up Cooking! - Imperial Soldiers

Relax Teatime - What Awaits at the End of War

The Power Of Regret - Noble Knights Fighting for Supremacy

While it may seem odd that a non-White Day event/gacha is here, it may be due to colopale making the decision to start releasing White Day AU lore outside of White Day events in order to ensure they can make at least one card for every major character (both OCs and vocaloids) before the game reaches the end of it's story.

The characters currently missing cards are...

Honami (Leo/need)

Shizuku (MORE MORE JUMP!)

Haruka (MORE MORE JUMP!)

An (Vivid BAD SQUAD)

Kohane (Vivid BAD SQUAD)

Ena (Nightcord at 25:00)

Rin (Virtual Singer)

Luka (Virtual Singer)

MEIKO (Virtual Singer)

It is difficult to guess who would be in which faction (more on that below) due to the fact that, regardless of unit or relationships, it is not uncommon for people to be split between factions even if logically they should've been paired together in the same faction.

White Day AU Lore

The setting of the White Day AU is most likely fantasy, due to the medieval aesthetics and fantastical elements like magic and dragons. Something interesting as well is that there seem to be factions--different groups each of the characters belong to--that may be hinting at a conflict between members of the cast.

There are multiple factions to be aware of:

The Knights of White

The Empire

An unnamed third faction

An unnamed fourth faction

I will go over each faction in this order. They can be distinguished from each other through multiple things such as the emblems they wear, the colored gemstones on their outfits, and the color palettes of their uniforms. These things all work in conjunction with one another to show who is allied with who.

The Knights of White

The Knights of White, which I will refer to as the Knights, is one of two primary factions in the White Day AU. Known characters who are currently part of the Knights are...

Tsukasa (Wonderlands x Showtime)

Akito (Vivid BAD SQUAD)

Shiho (Leo/need)

Len (Virtual Singer)

Nene (Wonderlands x Showtime)

Emu (Wonderlands x Showtime)

The Knights are distinguished from the other members of the cast by the eight-pointed star as their faction's crest and uniforms that comprise almost entirely of white, blue, and gold.

The Empire

The Empire, which I also tend to refer to as the Imperials (even though grammatically that is incorrect it just sounds better LMAO) is the second primary faction in the White Day AU. Known characters who are part of the Empire are...

Toya (Vivid BAD SQUAD)

Rui (Wonderlands x Showtime)

KAITO (Virtual Singer)

Miku (Virtual Singer)

Saki (Leo/need)

Imperial outfits tend to comprise of the colors black, red, and gold. Their crest is of a dragon, likely in reference to the dragon in Toya's card. Their outfits also all include a red gemstone of some kind, a gemstone color that is exclusive to this faction.

It should be noted that Rui's Imperial outfit does not include a dragon crest and instead has the eight-pointed star of the Knights. Additionally, Toya's outfit has a rose on it, which you may have noticed is something that appears on the outfits of other characters from other factions. I will come back to these two points later.

From here, we get to the secondary factions of the AU.

Unnamed Third Faction

Third Faction is currently only comprised of two members:

Kanade (Nightcord at 25:00)

Mafuyu (Nightcord at 25:00)

Third Faction does not seem to have a set color palette (the colors that the two share are blue and gold), but they do have a unique emblem: the four-pointed star. While Mafuyu's emblem is visible in her illustration, Kanade's emblem is viewable on her 3D model. Additionally, despite the emblem having similarity to the Knight's emblem, both of them wear the same distinctive red gemstones that the Imperials wear on their outfits.

These details in conjunction lead me to believe that the role of Third is either as a middle-ground or mediating party between the Knights and Imperials.

Unnamed Fourth Faction

Fourth Faction currently only comprises of two members:

Minori (MORE MORE JUMP!)

Airi (MORE MORE JUMP!)

The faction's color palette likely comprises largely of blue/green, red, white, and gold. Their crest is of four lozenges with a circle in the center. Their colors and crest are distinct from all other factions, meaning they are likely working independently and without the influence of the other factions.

Unknown Alliances

Mizuki (Nightcord at 25:00)

Mizuki's outfit does not appear to hold any similarities to the other factions currently present, her palette consisting of white, blue, and silver. While it does hold similarities to the Knights, the outfit that comes with her card includes a heart-shaped emblem both on the outfit and accessory. However, this could mean nothing, as the outfits that Akito and Tsukasa have from this same set do not include Knights emblems on their accessories.

Ichika (Leo/need)

Ichika's current alliance also remains unclear. Her outfit's color palette consists of white, red, and gold, which does not resemble any of the other factions. Her crest is likely the piece of her outfit that resembles a fleur-de-lis with a gemstone in the center. There are some details from a different card (the upper-left corner of the background in Len's 4* from the "The Power Of Regret" event) that may support her being part of a full-fledged faction, but due to other characters lacking this emblem she is currently seen as independent.

There is the possibility that Ichika and Mizuki are actually part of the same faction, but this lacks concrete evidence. For the sake of the argument though, I will mention that not long ago when I was looking over the details of the cards, the crests on their outfits struck me as suspiciously similar in shape (supported by the banners in the upper-right in the background in Mizuki's card). Still, this theory is shaky at best.

And yes, I made sure to check that Mizuki's banners and Ichika's crest do not resemble the background of the "Knights of White" gacha.

White Day AU Story

This is where we start getting into the nitty-gritty of details in the AU, aside from just talking about the factions. That was an important precursor of information to everything else this post talks about.

Meaning of Roses

My suspicion is that the roses represent nobility. Characters with roses present on their outfits are as follows:

Tsukasa (Wonderlands x Showtime)

Akito (Vivid BAD SQUAD)

Mizuki (Nightcord at 25:00)

Shiho (Leo/need)

Len (Virtual Singer)

Toya (Vivid BAD SQUAD)

At first, it was my assumption that those who wear roses are--or were at one point--allied or part of the Knights. However, upon further inspection of the logo for the "Imperial Soldiers" gacha, roses are not exclusive to the Knights faction.

If roses were associated with the Knights, why would it not only be part of Toya's outfit but also included in the "Imperial Soldiers" gacha logo?

Looking at each of the characters who have been seen with the rose on their uniforms and comparing these characters to their canon counterparts from the base game of Project Sekai (aside from Len, sorry Len), these characters being nobility would check out considering their personal histories in canon.

The Royal Guard

This is where we start getting to the most story-filled cards that colopale as released so far.

This unit of characters, which I have personally been referring to as the royal guard, consist of the following:

Nene (Wonderlands x Showtime)

Emu (Wonderlands x Showtime)

Len (Virtual Singer)

Tsukasa (Wonderlands x Showtime)

Rui (Wonderlands x Showtime)

Notably, (almost) all of the characters here are from the canon unit Wonderlands x Showtime, which is likely due to the fact that the event they come from, "The Power Of Regret," is a Wonderlands x Showtime story event (specifically Nene focus). It is because of the fact we got all of Wonderlands x Showtime in this card drop we get the most story, since we have three returning characters.

The royal guard uniforms have the Knights emblem and color palette, clearly displaying the fact that they are a part of that faction. The most distinct parts of their uniforms are their crown-shaped belt buckles, the crown on the back of their gloves, and the shield with a crown engraved on it that they wear as a brooch. Their outfits even have gemstones that correspond with their character colors that we see in-game, which to me only emphasizes their status as high-ranking knights.

Earlier, I pointed out how Rui has the Knights emblem on his Imperial outfit, despite noticeably not being part of the Knights. This is likely because, at some point between these cards and the cards from the "Never Give Up Cooking!" event, Rui deserted from the Knights to join the Empire.

An assumption could be made that the cards are being released in chronological order, however I disagree. Rui would be more likely to defect from the Knights but still carry their emblem with him when he joins the Imperials, rather than holding a connection with the Knights before deserting from the Imperials to join the other side. It is unclear why he would leave the Knights, but I personally believe it may have something to do with the fact that in his 4* from "Never Give Up Cooking!" he is a magic user, while here in the "The Power Of Regret" cards he is not. In other words, I think he joined the Imperials so he could use magic.

This causes the other cards of characters who were part of the royal guard to have very interesting additional information. Tsukasa likely went up in ranking from royal guard to something else entirely, based off of how his 4* from "The Gentleman Thief's Thrilling White Day!?" event has him in a much more regal outfit.

While it is unclear what happened to Len, it should be noted that his 2* from "The Gentleman Thief's Thrilling White Day!?" event is named "Innocent Squire", so maybe something also transpired with his character to lead to his change in position.

There is some speculation among people I discuss these cards with about what exactly Nene and Emu are doing in their cards, but we highly suspect they are actually fighting each other. The tears in Nene's eyes and Emu's determined expression imply that there may be some kind of heartache occurring during whatever clash they're involved in, which would be most likely to happen if the two of them were in combat against one another. The backgrounds of their cards match up well enough to suggest that they are in the same space, as well.

It is unclear what exactly the two of them are fighting about, but it is of my own personal belief that the conflict between them has to do with Rui's desertion from the Knights. It is realistically the only thing I can think of that could possibly push these two into conflict with one another.

It can also be assumed that after Rui's desertion, the royal guard subsequently dissolved since they make no other appearances outside of this set of cards.

It is unclear what Tsukasa and Len are doing in their cards, but they also appear to be in the same location as one another.

Toya's Dragon

In a blog post by colopale, they refer to the dragon as his "aibou" (partner). While it may seem like they're drawing parallels between the dragon and Akito (considering the fact that Akito and Toya are partners in canon), I don't think that Akito is supposed to be the dragon considering the differing allegiances. I think the dragon is just Toya's friend :)

Separated Tenmas

Saki and Tsukasa seem to be on two entirely different sides of the war--the Empire and the Knights respectively. While it remains unclear as to why they're on opposing sides, maybe something happened between them that caused this divide...

Leo/need in Conflict?!

Other than the fact that Saki is a member of the Imperial Army, I'm very curious about what's happening in Shiho and Ichika's cards. Based off of the backgrounds, and while it doesn't look like it at first, they appear to be in the same location. You can see in the background of Ichika's card, on the other side of the courtyard, you can see a set of windows that are the same shape as the windows light is being cast through in Shiho's card. Assuming the courtyard is symmetrical, you can reasonably guess they're in the same hall. Additionally, the pillars appear to be similar at the very least. If they're fighting, I wonder what its about?

Details about the outfit names...

I want to take a moment to talk about outfit names for each of the characters since I couldn't find anywhere else to talk about this. I will be dividing these by the event/gacha they were released in.

The Gentleman Thief's Thrilling White Day!? - Knights of White:

Tsukasa - Chivalrous Chevalier

Akito - Noble Paladin

Mizuki - Optatio Eques

None of these are exactly notable aside from the name of Mizuki's outfit. The name translates from Latin to "Knight's Choice" (machine translation), which adds some information to her character that, while I have trouble parsing due to the lack of information about her whole deal in this AU, I still find interesting.

Also note that the world "chevalier" just means "knight" in French.

Never Give Up Cooking! - Imperial Soldiers:

Toya - Chevalier Noir

Rui - Mad Sorcerer

KAITO - Wandering Gunner

KAITO's outfit name is intriguing to me and leads me to believe he may be more of a mercenary type of character rather than someone who is absolutely loyal to the Empire.

Relax Teatime - What Awaits at the End of War:

Kanade - Fleeting Light Knight Attire

Ichika - Illuminated Courtyard Knight Attire

Mafuyu - Abyss Knight Attire

There's not much of note here, but I am of the personal belief that Kanade and Mafuyu are matching.

The Power Of Regret - Noble Knights Fighting for Supremacy:

Nene - Fier Chevalier

Emu - Sourire Chevalier

Len - Hability Chevalier

Two of the names here are French. Nene's translates to "Proud knight" and Emu's to "Smile Knight" (both machine translated). Len's name means "Able Knight" (could also be read as "Skillful Knight"), the word "habile" just being an obsolete form of the word "able."

My personal thoughts...

I just know the AkiToya divorce is insane. Couldn't be as dramatic as whatever L/n and WxS are going through right now tho tbh... At least it looks like KanaMafu and MMJ are having fun times in yuri land

Also in the next White Day AU card drop if Ena isn't part of the Knights faction I'm gonna--[remembers suicide jokes are bad for my mental health]--I'm gonna surpass RAD WEEKEND

Why does KAITO have a gun btw???? Maybe its magic idk

[pastel-greene]

The Daughter | king!sukuna x curse user!reader

Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 - Need | Chapter 6

Summary: The mother of curses happens upon a blind child and decides to impart a portion of her power to them as an experiment of sorts. The power morphs the child in their image until they are part curse and part human. So what happens when they get employed by the King of Curses? Will humanity bloom as newfound emotions flow between the two? Or will they usher in an era of never ending terror?

Notes: not all of this will be canon, it will be loosely based off of the jjk universe :) taglist is open, comment your request on any chapter to be tagged in future ones

Genre: female reader, fluff, angst, ‘loads’ of smut, violence, sukuna true form but like not with the weird face lmao just double set of eyes and arms, dark reader

Warnings: profanity, explicit smut (two dick sukuna, sadistic sex, biting, oral m & f receiving, pet names, more to be added), violence, depictions of gore, dark minds cause yk, mentions of rape, toxic relationships, chaotic neutral reader, trauma, possessiveness from reader and sukuna, torture, vampire themes (reader’s blood is infused with the Mother of curses so if a curse user is to drink it it basically gives them a temporary stat boost bc what can i say vampire sukuna seems hot), cannibalism (no I don’t support it but it is true to his character), and more to be added as story progresses

Word count: 6.7k

This work contains mature content, so absolutely no minors I will block you if I find out :)

It had been a few weeks since you and Sukuna had talked. You had continued attending various meetings and hearings alongside him to snoop in people’s minds. Word had already spread of your presence. A woman with a shirt adorned with gold buttons sat beside the king and gave him notes. Notes that led to death. When people came in with their heads down, you could feel their gaze linger when they realized you were there. The way they grew tenser, their thoughts becoming a dark jumble. It was fun really, the amount of fear you and Sukuna put into people when together.

When it came to you two, he kept to his word of taking things slow. He often showed up at your door to take you to his chambers to share dinner. You hadn’t had sex but you had been teasing each other. Your ass “accidentally” grinding into him at night or you “not noticing” your boob had slipped out of your nightgown during the night. Him whispering your name into your ear in the morning, voice gruff, and arms wrapped around you. Or the way his tongue danced along your neck before he would bite you, one hand pulling in your hair, two on your hips, and the other resting beside your breast. His scent would completely encapsulate you, his touch would make your body forget how to breathe. You both pushed but neither had broken. It almost felt like a competition now, a stupid one that you weren’t sure was possible to actually win. That’s why you were sitting in a meeting with the King, thighs clenched together and thoughts a mess. Messy thoughts telling you to use cursed energy to tease him, touch along his body. Caress all the places you couldn’t. If Uruame wasn’t there you really might’ve. Instead, you sat frustrated and waited for the meeting to end.

When everyone was finally dismissed from the room, you let out a groan. Sukuna turned his head to look at you, his smile growing evermore. “You may look up now, since you’ve been such a good girl for me”, he said. Gods you hated it when he first called you that, made you feel like an animal. Now that asshole had made you subconsciously like it. You looked up at him, eyes carved by features of anger, but irises soaking with whispers of lust. You wanted to tell him to break, to touch you, but if you did then you would be the one to break. So instead you moved yourself into his lap, legs straddling him, breasts pressed against his chest, arms around his neck, and head resting above his heart. You thought about when he fucked you like this, his extra mouth moving between your clit and nipples as his cocks hammered in and out of you.

“Who gave you permission to crawl on your King like this?” His voice was teasing, he knew how much you wanted him right then. He wanted it too. He had already been caught on multiple occasions with his pants forming a tent. Just yesterday he was in a hearing without you and ended up growing hard during it. The peasant talked about how he was starving and blah blah blah. All he could think about was being inside you again, hearing you call out for him as he fucked you until he was satisfied. He thought this little game you two were playing was stupid, but he also refused to lose. He wouldn’t let you know he wanted you as much as he did. His hands let themselves free to explore your body, purposely getting close but not on the spots you wanted him. He chuckled as your body responded to his touch, arching into it in a plea for more. A chuckle that made you immediately get out of his lap.

“Asshole”, you said while straightening your clothes out.

“Asshole? And here I was calling you a good girl and letting you sit in my lap. If you want me to touch you further, all you have to do is ask. I won’t even make you beg.” He remained seated on his place on the floor but pulled you closer as he spoke. His face was just a few inches from your ever-clenching cunt. As you looked down at him you thought back to when you told him you wanted to ride his face and drown him in your cum. His face would look so shiny and pretty. You ran your fingers through his hair, his eyes rolling closed as you massaged his scalp, before leaning down next to his ear.

“That’s where we differ then, Sukuna, I will make you beg to touch me. To stick your fingers inside me, to let your tongue taste the effect you have on me, to put your cocks back in their warm cozy homes, to feel them suck you in and drench you in my cum.” You punctuated your last whispered sentence by biting his ear. A small puncture wound opened up and blood began rushing to escape. You pulled away as the first drop beaded and prepared to descend. You gathered it on your index finger before sliding it into your mouth. Blood trailed on your bottom lip as it slid in and your cheeks hollowed as you pulled it back out. A loud pop resonating in the air. You pulled your bottom lip into your mouth and let your eyes roll back as you sucked the remaining blood away. A small moan reverberated through your chest, muted by your closed lips, but loud enough to be effective. The very obvious bulge in his pants twitched from the show you were putting on. His hands gripped tighter on your body, his eyes dark and drooping with need. You pulled from his grip and told him good luck with the rest of his schedule. He watched as you walked out the door, wanting to rebuttal or tease you back, but his voice was overshadowed by the war raging between his ego and hormones.

You walked along the palace halls feeling a little better. You were still extremely horny, but you felt a bit better after making sure he was equally miserable. You could already see the sun setting through the windows, the back-to-back meetings you sat through these days had messed with your sense of time. You stretched your arms over your head and attempted to yawn away your body's growing ache. The cushion you sat on in your meetings was an absolute poor excuse for a seat. You wondered how Sukuna sat on his for hours day after day without any signs of pain. Maybe he had a better one, you’d have to check next time. If it was, you would have to steal his until he got you a new one. You turned the hall to your room and were greeted by fewer servants than usual. Two of your male servants were missing from the ensemble and the remaining women looked down in fear.

“Where are Itto and Hiro”, you asked as you stopped in front of them.

Their figures all seemed to stutter at the question, bodies tense and breathes withheld. “T-they have been moved to different jobs ma’am”, Aoi said.

You blinked a few times at Aoi in disbelief. If you had to guess, Sukuna was killing of any possible threats to his courting you. Which part of you found hot, but the other part was pissed that you just lost two perfectly good servants for nothing. You gave a stiff nod to the remaining servants and entered your room. Orange light whispered across your floor as a notice of the sun lowering in the sky. You pulled out a bottle of sake Sukuna had gifted you and poured yourself a drink. Being with Sukuna was fun and of course came with endless perks, but also felt a little suffocating. With him killing your servants, you began to wonder if you were going to be segregated from men altogether. He had promised to try not to be possessive, but here he was doing the exact opposite. You sighed before taking your glass to a seating area in front of one of your windows. You looked out across the palace, the intricate architecture, neatly kept foliage, hurried servants, and river that outlined one side. It was grand. Most people would kill to be where you were, to have the King “properly” courting you. The way he had started to dote on you by giving you his time. The way he actually listened to you and was actively trying to respect your boundaries. The big scary monster he was known to be taking off a mask that not even he knew he wore when he was around you. However, most people that challenged him were slaughtered on the spot, never giving him the chance to truly learn how to interact with another.

There was a lot in common between you two, but he was definitely more bloodthirsty. Not that you had never killed over an insignificant reason, but you did it a lot less than him. You wondered if you would grow to be more cruel as you aged. From what you had heard, Sukuna was at least over 100, which would make him roughly 3 times your age. In the 27 years you had been on earth, you had been through a lot and there were definitely times you thought about annihilating every being that infected the surface. When you met Ieiri, that was exactly your plan actually, but she changed it. She made you realize there are some people that actually deserved to live. Then you meant Kento and it solidified your thinking. They became two unexpected lessons given to you. You would never hurt them, in fact, you would show the depths of hell to anyone who dared lay a finger on them. Like the guy who tried to force himself on Ieiri or the drunk patron who attempted to break a bottle over Kento’s head. Two lowly parasites that believed they had a right to harm those under your protection. Two vile infections that still lay in your realm being tortured and healed without stopping.

You took a drink as you thought of Sukuna’s threat to them. The night of the incident, you had sent a very eager Miro to inform Ieiri to keep her guard up and not to slack on training her energy with Kento. You had also sent various curses to help protect and prepare them for an event that might never come to pass. But should it, you would be ready. You ran your fingers across the smooth clay container. Anxiety and anger swirl inside like the liquid in your glass. You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths. Sukuna would probably come for dinner and there was no use getting into a fight over an issue that had already been as resolved as it would get. It would only make things tense between you two again and there was obviously no benefit to that. You opened your eyes and leaned back into your chair, the plushness of the cushions enveloping your body in the warmth of comfort. You rested your drink in your lap as your lids fell with the sun. You knew you should stave off the urge to curl up and instead get ready to meet with Sukuna, but something about falling asleep when you weren’t supposed to made it all the more inviting.

Your eyes open but are greeted with the abyss. You go to touch them but a loud rattle of a chain echoes throughout the space. The smell of musty pine overwhelms your senses and panic sets in as you realize where you are. Underneath you sprawls a plush bed covered in various body fluids. You have no idea how long he has kept you in his private room this time. How long doesn’t matter here. Nothing matters here. Even if you died it wouldn’t matter. No one would ever know, ever cry. Just another human discarded by their fellow people. You hear footsteps awakening creaks in the stairs— his footsteps. “Oh Angel” “My Little Dove” he calls out. Pet names given for your appearance. An appearance you’ve never even seen. Apparently, one that screams pure, one that makes others want to defile you. The handle jiggles on the door and you feel the air change as it opens. You want to start crying and were internally screaming and wishing you could run. But if you cried or screamed it would simply enhance his pleasure. He liked the sounds you made for him. If you got out and ran it would be pointless. You had no idea where you were, nor could you see, and you had nowhere to go anyway. He would just find you and laugh as he punished you. Mock as you reached out blindly to try and shield yourself from his attack. You could feel the dip in the bed as he got on and began his nightly onslaught. You drifted off into your mind, disassociating from your physical being. You walked into the darkness within yourself, but this time you saw light far away. Your eyes widened and your pace quickened as you charted towards it. As you grew closer you saw colors, colors outlining shapes you didn’t recognize. Each with different layers. It was beautiful. But in the middle stood a girl. Her hair was dark and crawling in the air. Her eyes were a deep black that mimicked endless voids. Her jaw drooped to the point it pulled her cheeks taut. Her head tilted toward the side as she noticed you. She beckoned you closer, not with any motion, but with a feeling deep inside you. You slowly approached her and she gestured towards the lights around you. You looked around at it all and realized these shapes were people. You began to feel the colors, the feelings embedded in them. For the first time, you felt like you could actually see. You looked back towards the girl and noticed she was already staring at you. Her mouth didn’t move but you heard, “Let me in”, from a raspy voice of a woman who seemed much older than the one before you. Apprehension crossed your thoughts, but what was the point of being scared? What was the point in fearing the unknown when the known wasn’t worth being in? So you said yes. The world around you started spinning, your hair whipping in your face as hers erratically lashed the air. Her face glitched between a hanging mouth and a smile dripping with black goo. Fear crept in you before you were pulled back to reality. Before you, the man assaulting you was in view. You could see the outline of his form and the emotions that made up his psyche. You could see his hands reach out to touch you. You were no longer in the dark, but seeing didn’t resolve the fear and pain you felt currently.

Sukuna walked up to your door, eyes dismissing the servants, as he reached out his hand and knocked against the wood. He listened closely but there was no answer. He shifted on his feet, eyebrows knitting his features into a confused look that was losing patience. He knocked again and called out your name, but again there was no answer. A frustrated breath slipped through his lips as he decided to just open the door. He called out for you again as he entered the room, but quickly silenced himself as he spotted you curled up by the window. You sat in your chair, legs outstretched, hands meeting in your lap to hold a glass, hair falling in erratic waves left from being up the whole day. Your lips lay slightly parted as calm breaths filtered in and out. All of Sukuna’s previous frustrations melted away as he watched you. This was the most vulnerable he had ever seen you, and he was shocked that he didn’t see it as an opportunity to attack you. Instead, he found himself wanting to be at your side and guarding you so that you could sleep in peace. He slowly approached you and knelt down. He could see the slight wear under your eyes that had appeared after your coming here. He wondered how tired you felt and how differently you lived prior to the palace. He knew bits and pieces from when he had Uruame stalk you, but not enough. He wanted to see what happened throughout your day when you were fully unrestricted. What made you laugh, what made you cry? What trouble did you get into and what were the kind of people that you spared? He knew you could be just as evil as him, but he also knew you could be more benevolent than he saw the need to be. A few days ago he watched from afar as you healed a cat and then proceeded to bring it food and water the following days. But he also watched a servant’s legs snap the wrong way when they tried to run the cat off. Such an unpredictable anomaly that had walked into his palace and turned everything upside down for him. He reached to move a stray group of hair out of your face but was abruptly stopped by your hand. It pulled his wrist while your other reached up for his throat, holding him close with a death grip. He looked into your eyes and noticed they were vacant of the color he was used to, instead they were blacked out completely. Just like when you threatened to kill him.

“Hey, it’s me, it’s me. I’m not going to hurt you”, he said as he looked into the voids. Your grip loosened as you blinked. The black receded until all that was left were the same tired eyes he was used to seeing, slowly lighting up in realization.

“Oh shit sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to”, you scrambled to say as you let him go. You had never done well when people unexpectedly touched you while you slept. Especially when you were having flashbacks.

Sukuna watched you as you let him go and your face flushed with embarrassment. You weren’t usually a jumpy person or one to easily spook, but there seemed to be an exception when you were sleeping. He didn’t know much about your past, not even Uruame could find anything out, but you had mentioned being owned previously. Not that he knew how anyone could overpower you, but there were few stories where people enjoyed being owned. He was sure it tied into that somehow, but he wouldn't press the matter.

“No, it's my bad. You know what they say about poking a sleeping bear”, he said with a smile as he rubbed his wrist. Had he been a human or even a lower-grade sorcerer, he was sure it would be cracked if not fully broken from the force you applied.

You smiled back at his joke before your eyes widened in surprise. You felt wet fabric cling to your leg and realized you must have spilled your drink in all the commotion. “Awh, dammnit”, you said as you got up and observed the wet spot going from your upper to mid-thigh and a little on the floor.

Sukuna also noticed the mess and got up with you. “Here I’ll clean it since I’m the one who scared you”, he said as he went to grab a towel.

“No, it’s okay. It’s my fault for freaking out anyway”, you said as you followed him to get a towel. You tried to reach to grab it before him but he instead grabbed your hand and used another to grab the towel.

“Let me do it”, he said as he looked down at you. You wanted to rebuttal but nodded instead. There was a certain softness in his eyes almost akin to pity. You didn’t exactly appreciate pity nor did you understand why his eyes were so full of it so you just looked down. He led you over to the bed and put one towel beneath you before leaving your side to clean the spot on the floor. You watched as he knelt down and sopped up the little bit of liquid. It felt weird seeing him clean. The fearsome King knelt down on the ground cleaning up a mess you made. Once he got it, he walked back over to you and felt the wet spot on your pants.

“You probably want to take these off. They’re too wet for the towel to dry”, he said while his hands moved to the small tie on the side of your pants. He pulled the string and started pulling them off your hips, telling you to lift up to let them pass under you. You did as he said and were left with your bodice and underwear. He sat between your legs and wiped the towel across your skin. His hand grabs your leg and moves it up to get your upper thigh. You could feel your clit start throbbing as he neared it. You looked down at him, the care he applied when cleaning you. The way his eyes gave off no motive other than rectifying his mess. You reached down and cupped his face, gently nudging it up to look at you as your hand moved under his jaw. You garnered the attention of all four of his eyes as your thumb caressed his face.

“What is it”, he asked as he looked up at you. He had never seen you look at him the way you were. Lust swirling in your eyes but an unfamiliar emotion dancing with it. It was akin to need but not in the same carnal league as the lust. It was deeper, he could feel it radiating from you. Like it was welcoming him in.

“It is still sticky. I think it needs to be cleaned up differently,” you said as your thumb slid across his cheek to his lips. You wanted him, but you needed him to take it at your pace this time. You wanted to stay in control in order to fight the feeling your nightmare left behind to eat away at you.

His eyebrow quirked up as he caught your meaning. He tossed the towel to the side before rubbing his thumb along your thigh. “I think you’re right, it is still pretty sticky here darling”, he said while grabbing your hand and kissing it before leaning down to your thigh. He had never felt the need to care for someone, to show them love, but right now that feeling swelled in him until he couldn’t help but let it flow out. He didn’t know if it was because he was feeling your feelings or if it simply stemmed from him, and he didn’t really care. He looked up at you before licking a long stripe up your thigh. The face you made for him and the way your breath hitched had him wanting to stop time. To stay in the moment that you looked at him as if he was the only one in the world, the only man for you. He wanted everyone to know that these moments with you belonged to him, that you belonged to him. He didn’t care if some people saw it as a weakness. Anyone that dared state is as one would be thoroughly re-educated by you and him together.

You looked down and watched as he lapped at your skin. Your skin sank into his mouth as he sucked on certain spots, dark little marks blooming in his wake. You couldn’t help a moan that fell out when he bit one spot, his tongue quickly cleaning up the blood that greeted him. “You seem to be making more messes rather than cleaning”, you said as your fingers threaded themselves through his hair, pulling it tightly earning a low groan from him.

His lids lowered as his gaze kept yours. “My deepest apologies. I suppose I will have to take more time focusing on every inch of your skin. Assuring there is absolutely no mess left behind”, he said in between strokes of his tongue. The mouth on his hand joined to suck the sensitive skin right before where your thighs met your pelvis. His thumb and forefinger held the seam where they did.

“Naughty King. You’re making an even bigger mess with what you’re doing”, you said as you scratched his scalp tenderly.

“Hmm is that so? Where is said mess baby girl? I’ll make sure to clean it too”, he said as he kissed over the bruised areas and massaged his thumb right beside your pubic bone.

“You seem to have gotten my underwear wet, Kuna. Too wet to be dried. I think they need to come off and the area beneath needs to be cleaned.”

He looked up at you and smirked. “Is this your way of admitting defeat by asking me to touch you?”

You raised your eyebrows in faux shock and exclaimed, “Oh no, of course not. This is simply you sticking to your word and cleaning up the messes you’ve made. Are you saying you’re the kinda King that goes back on his word?”

“Ohoho careful there brat”, he said as he ripped your underwear off. He pulled you close and sank his lips down to around your clit. He sucked in sharply without warning as his tongue started swirling rapidly. You instinctively wrapped your legs around him and arched your back to increase the suction being applied. “You should know better than to question me as a King. I think I am being more than generous right now, no?”

“I think you’re focusing on one spot for too long. Such lack of diligence when it comes to cleanliness”, you retorted while pulling his mouth off of you. “Put your tongue out flat.”

His tongue darted out to gather the mess you had left on his lips, “Such a bossy little brat tonight”. He laid out his tongue as you instructed before surprising you by stealing a lick across your spread labia. The sensation only lasted a minute before you were using his shoulders to lift yourself with your legs, one hand balancing you on the bed and the other in his hair as you pushed your cunt against his tongue. You let out a slow moan as you started by slowly sliding yourself up and down across his tongue. He groaned as he watched you use his to pleasure yourself, something the King wasn’t used to happening. But the way you sucked on your bottom lip as your hooded eyes watched where you two connected had him more than happy to be used by you. He watched the way your stomach muscles flexed as you moved on him, felt how you twitched against his tongue and smelled the arousal that began to pool on his chin. You were so breathtaking like this. He felt the emotions you had wrapped him in begin to change as the uneasiness you originally felt faded away. Sukuna had given you control of the situation and didn’t fight you on it. He didn’t make you cower before him or wantonly obey him. He wasn’t perfect, but fuck it was so attractive that you could see him trying to change for you. The emotionless monster showing you sides that didn’t exist before you came into his life.

Your grip tightened on his hair as your pace started to quicken. The sensation of his soft yet textured tongue constantly touching every part of your folds and rubbing your clit bare and through the hood was driving you insane. Your vision felt like it was spinning, you were starting to have a hard time focusing as the tension inside your abdomen grew. You were close and you both knew it. When your thighs started to shake and your rhythm started to falter, Sukuna’s hands found their way to your thighs and waist as he helped stabilize and guide you through your orgasm. Small cries left your lips as the pleasure took you over, Sukuna’s tongue working to milk every last drop of his orgasm. When your vision returned to normal Sukuna was still lapping up your cum. Tongue dipping into you to pull it all out and venturing to your other hole on occasion. You tried to pull away as overstimulation seeped into your muscles, but he kept you in place. “Hold still baby, I need to show you how serious I am about keeping my word”, he said in between licks.

You whined a little in protest but he just smirked at you. His fingers rubbed where they held you in an offering of comfort as he continued to absolutely devour you. He alternated between greeting every crevice of your labia and clit with his tongue, to swirling his tongue around your ass and pointing his tongue inside. The sounds in your ears started to blend into a high-pitched ringing tone as your cheeks grew red with warmth. Your legs were visibly shaking on his shoulders and your hips bucked without order from your mind. Your orgasm began to creep up on you again, but you halted it by pulling Sukuna onto the bed and flipping him under you. His features contorted in confusion as he looked up at you, face glistening as your juices dripped down his chin.

“Fuck, Kitten. I thought I was the one cleaning you. Why did you make me switch? Don’t tell me you grew too hungry for the taste of my cocks that you couldn’t wait”, he said as he looked down at you. He had propped himself up on his elbows and stuffed your pillows behind your back so he could watch you. His hair stuck up all kinds of ways from where you played with it, his lids were heavy with lust, and his ever-darkening eyes peered through them to watch you.

“I just thought it was unfair to make you do all the work. You are my King, after all, it is only fitting I assist you however I can. And your poor pants looked like they were about to tear from all the strain”, you said as you rubbed him through the fabric. You could hear his breathing pattern become interrupted as your fingers traced the shapes. Your nail lightly raked over the bottom one, following the engorged muscle that protruded from the bottom side. A growl reverberated throughout his chest, followed by slightly profane praises for your work. You looked up at him as you slid your body along his crotch until your mouth found the string holding his pants up. You reached your tongue out for it, the tips grazing the lower part of his abs making them suck in. You felt him twitch against your chest as you gripped the hindrance with your teeth and pulled it undone. He watched in lust-clouded awe as you began you pull his pants back. Your mouth kissing, sucking, and licking at the newly found skin. Once you pulled back to the point his cocks were almost revealed you told him to lift his hips so you could get the rest of the way down. “Oh? I thought you said you were going to assist your King yet here you are barking orders to me”, he said while smirking.

You raised your eyebrows and tongued the inside of your cheek before letting out a small chuckle and ripping his pants off. His lips almost managed to form words, but yours found your way to his cocks before they could come to fruition. Tatters of his pants flew across the room as you laid yourself between his legs and started licking his bottom cock. Your tongue traced the outline of it over and over while your lips sucked on the tip. Heavy sighs and low groans reverberated through him as you continued your work. You turned your head and pulled in the underside of his cock and started moving your head up and down. Spit fell from the corners of your mouth as you looked up at him. (E/C) irises swirling with lust and untold plans as your lips peeked from both sides of his cock. After a few pumps like this, you pushed your mouth down onto his tip and filled your throat up. His cock completely cut off your air supply as you sank down deeper onto him. You used your hand to stroke the parts of the base you couldn’t fit and watched as he started to play with his other cock. He pushed it down slightly so that your face ran along it as you pleasured the other. You pulled away from him and used your energy to pull his hands above his head and pin them there.

You moved yourself up to eye level with him, cocks brushing against your dripping entrance and boobs draping against his chest. You licked along his jaw and neck, cleaning yourself off of him before moving back over his face. You playfully kitten-licked his lips before saying, “Keep your hands here or I stop what I am doing, okay?”

His head pushed up as he quickly took your bottom lip between his teeth, biting and pulling it back before releasing it to pop back to its original position. “Such a brave brat ordering me around like this. Does fear never visit you”, he asked while meeting your gaze. His eyes feral from the predicament of being tied to your bed while you so eagerly pleased him.

You dipped your head to his ear, kissing where it met his neck before pressing your lips to his earlobe. “Fear knows better than to show its face to a predator, don’t you know we feed off of that”, you asked before slowly pushing your body back down to where it was. A hearty laugh rocked his chest at your question. The fire in his eyes seemed to be stoked by what you said, their colors seemed to burn with fervor as they closely watched all of your movements. You lowered yourself back to your original position between his legs. Your hand slid his lower cock between the valley of your breasts as you began sucking on the top one. Hand pumping him up and down once it was covered in enough spit to allow your hand to freely roam.

His toned abs flexed when his tip fell victim to the suction in your mouth and he sucked the remainder of your cum off his lips as he watched his other cock fall between your tits. It slid so nicely, the spit it was once coated in now creating a shiny layer on your breasts. He watched as they jiggled as they crashed against his pelvis with each bob of your head and felt the way the friction made you moan against his cocks. The feeling of it shooting from your throat down the one inside your mouth, and the feeling of the vibrations coming from your chest spreading to the other one had him pushing his hips further into you. He watched as tears swelled in the corners of your eyes as you gagged around him, fresh spit slipping past your lips and pooling at the base of his cock. He waited for the repercussions of his actions but was never meant with any, so he continued pistoning his hips into your throat. Sounds of skin slapping skin and choked gags filled the room as he fucked your throat and tits. It was so fucking erotic. Never had he had someone take him like you did, never had he allowed someone to take control like he did with you. And fuck he was starting to think about how much he was missing it. This was almost as sexy as when you ate his finger. He thought back to that day, the way you both were covered in blood, the violence you endured from each other in search of your own releases. Those thoughts mixed with the present situation had his cock twitching in a pretense of his release.

You watched through blurry eyes as his features started to pull together, his eyes narrowed, his lips parted, his body restless. You opened your mouth fully to allow him full access to your throat as he chased his orgasm. As his rhythm began to falter, you picked it up and guided him into nirvana. He groaned your name as he buried himself fully in your throat and started cumming. It poured down your throat as the other one shot it all across your face and chest. You kept swallowing as it kept flowing into you, it started to feel like it would never end. After the last rope shot down your mouth you pulled off of his cock. You looked like a filthy whore as you stared at him through lashes covered in cum. Milky white stains covered your face, ropes slid off of your face to your already cum covered chest, some falling right back onto his cock. He watched as your fingers began to scrape it into your mouth, your peeking out to lick it off of your fingers. You dropped your mouth to let him see how it gathered on your tongue before swallowing it and coming back out clean.

“Fuck, why do you have to be so sexy baby”, he asked as he sat up, your magic dissipating from around his wrists allowing him to touch you.

“I want you inside me, Kuna. I’ve been wanting it. Been thinking about how full you made me feel last time. It’s been so long, I want you inside me again”, you started to whine as you crawled up onto his lap. Two of his hands found their places on his hips, while the other two cradled your head. He was all for fucking you senseless until you coudln’t bare to not have his cocks inside you, but he also knew you hadn’t eaten since early in the morning. And since some stupid part of him remembered and cared about that he told you no.

“Not right now, pretty girl. I came here to eat with you and what we have eaten so far, isn’t quite what your body needs,” he said while standing up with your legs still around him. You started to protest but he simply quietened you with a kiss. He walked into your bathroom to find the tub empty, as if forgetting it wasn’t like his. He looked down at you, “I am going to take us to my bath, okay? I promise it won’t be like last time. I just want to get you cleaned up before we eat.” You were genuinely caught off guard by how sweet he was being tonight. It almost made you feel like you were talking to an imposter.

“Why are you being so sweet to me?”

He looked as caught off guard as you when you asked that. He blinked at you a few times before looking away. “Honestly, I don’t know. Never have a felt the need to care for something like I do for you. Never have I felt guilty about hurting someone like I do when I think about how I killed you. I don’t understand it, but I also don’t hate it. You have at least proved yourself to be worth caring about, so…”, he trailed off. You reached up and caressed his face before kissing him. Maybe he really wouldn’t be a bad partner, maybe.

Taglist: @missroro @roxytheimmortal

[breakyourrxles]

❥between two breaths (m) | 𝟙𝟚

𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲

↳ When two conversations come to pass, you find yourself in the precarious situation of navigating both:

One, an inkling of something you'd expected.

And two, the uncomfortable truths of the situation you have wrapped yourself in.

kim sunwoo x fem!reader (side lee juyeon x reader) — idol!sunwoo, fan/trainee!reader. forced proximity, forbidden love, friends to lovers, angst, slow burn, idolverse-typical themes regarding; dating, image, public perception, etc. happy ending, plot-heavy!! reader thinks she's nonchalant about it but she rly isn't. smut. [6,4k wc ongoing] cws: heavy themes of wanting-but-can't-having, mild jealousy, explicit sexual content, a little alcohol consumption, dancing on the edge of career suicide, poor decision making because of The Wanting.

❥ masterlist | ao3

He laughs under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief at his own words and then says, "And even still, even knowing this, I still do it. I still choose you every time."

September rolls around and marks the fact that your debut anniversary is just around the corner, but with so much on your mind you find little time to enjoy the success of that.

Days after your meeting with your manager, word begins to spread amongst the members about the impending comeback. Woori breaks the finality of it to the team in a group text message, but appears to know just as little about the details of it as you do. The meeting is set for tomorrow, and though you want to be excited about that fact, it is just another thing that remains hampered by the invisible elephant in the room.

You've still not managed to reach Sunwoo, but you do know that he is home now.

It's unlike him to not bother with hounding you, tracking you down and sending a wave of messages about any such thing. The kind of guy who repeats texts back-to-back despite not receiving a response, the kind of guy who always has something to say and may resort to ridiculous threats should you not reply in a reasonable timeframe as decided by him.

But now, there is silence, and you can't help but wonder if the meeting with his manager has anything to do with it.

Stuffed into a tiny corner table inside of the cafe, you idly scroll through your phone and pick at a sandwich that's sat in front of you.

You don't look at the articles. They exist and you know that and you find little need to continue to check on them. Whether more come in or they all disappear, it's of no consequence to you. All that can happen now is that the conversations that need to take place, do. One of them being a very uncomfortable conversation with the man that you can't seem to get sat down for it.

The bread is a little stale, and as it crumbles down to the plate your eyes follow the journey. That is, until your attention is driven to the body that's standing in front of you.

"Hi."

Without asking, Sunwoo slots himself into a chair that's shoved between a wall and a trash can, hardly enough room to even pull it out. He makes something of a ruckus about the whole thing, though it's of no fault of his own, but it does draw a bit more attention to the two of you than you'd really like to have. All things considered.

With a low, quiet voice you say, "Is this a good idea right now?"

"Well, I'm a bit wrapped up lately, if you haven't noticed! I don't have a lot of time to talk."

The inflection on the last word implies far more than conversing might normally entail.

Thankfully, the table immediately beside you is empty, though the one after that is full with company staff members who do not directly work with either of your groups. It's as good as it's going to get, you figure, though the most important topic at hand is going to have to wait until a far more opportune and private time.

Your eyes break away from him, and looking back down at your lackluster sandwich you say, "Now who isn't answering their messages?"

"I know, I'm sorry." Sunwoo immediately relents to it and accepts his wrongdoing in a way that comes as a little bit of a surprise to you. He exhales a heavy sigh, slumps into the chair and says, "It's been rough. I've been non stop hopping flights, attending events, shaking hands… I barely even know what time it is on any given day with the amount of jetlag I've been dealing with."

"Yeah, I know. Just sort of a bad time to start ghosting, you know?"

Sunwoo's eyebrows furrow just a bit, he seems genuinely shocked by the message hidden behind the actual words. "You think I'm…?"

A small smile creeps in, and glancing up at him briefly you say, "No, but sometimes. Maybe."

He shoots forward, arms against the table and leaned far too closely towards you for what's comfortable given your location. Sunwoo's eyes are judgingly narrow and soft curls curtain over them like usual, and despite his pleasant appearance, he is obviously far from pleased by what you've just said.

"Me?" he whispers, "You think me of all people is going to ghost? Guy who constantly injects soulmate romance anime directly into my bloodstream like it's the only thing that sustains me. You think I'm not about this life for real? I'll stand on this table and tell everyone what we've been up to right now!"

Groaning, you say, "Please don't do that, and besides, based on what the gossip sites have been saying I don't think you really need to. I'm sure you've heard."

Sunwoo sits back into his previous lazy position but this time crosses his arms over his chest, petulant and disgruntled. "Yeah, loved having that sit down with my manager at two in the morning in fucking France."

"What'd he say?"

"He shook me down for about an hour about whether or not I have a girlfriend." Sunwoo rolls his eyes. "And when I wouldn't say that I do—because I don't, though of no fault of my own—he kind of gave up and just told me to get my shit together or things were gonna get ugly. Whatever that means. What'd your manager say?"

"Somewhat the same," you admit. "Though he erred more on the side of not being all that interested in whether or not I'm involved." Looking up at Sunwoo, you give him a small smile and say, "He did tell me to pass along the fact that you need to get it together, though."

"Crazy that they immediately put the target on your back," Sunwoo says, exasperated by it all. "Why does no one believe I know other women? This is nuts! I know other women!"

Shrugging, you say, "On the bright side, no one online seems all that convinced of it. No names, no guesses. So really, this has nothing to do with me!"

Sunwoo's eyes shift past you and towards the table of people seated just nearby, and obviously forgoing the thing that he actually wishes to say, he instead relents to the surroundings and only says, "Yeah, I guess it doesn't." His attention then falls to the picked apart sandwich at your hand, and with clear intent to change the subject he asks, "Are you going to eat that?"

"No," you say, sliding the plate over to him. "I wouldn't really suggest you do, either."

"I don't even care at this point. I've been so busy I've hardly had time for a proper meal in weeks. Speaking of…" Sunwoo says, trailing off but leaving time to take a hard-fought bite out of the stale bread. "I did a really interesting photoshoot in Japan with this up and coming photographer, I don't know when the pictures are gonna come out, but they look amazing. Don't be jealous when all my fans start swooning over me again, okay?"

"I've long since been out of the swooning life. They can swoon as much as they like, that's the point, isn't it?"

He grins just slightly, a sort of devilish sparkle sitting in his eye as he does so and then says, "No, not entirely, anyway."

Growing tired of his antics, you opt to change the subject. "Tell me more about this photographer, you seem fond of him."

"Her," Sunwoo corrects, "and yeah, she was amazing. We talked a lot in between rolls and I guess she doesn't do a lot of idol work but really wanted to shoot me. Can you believe it? This face always coming in clutch when I need it to."

He waves a hand around his face and pouts his lips to drive home the point, but you give him little more than a tired roll of your eyes in response.

"Don't you have somewhere to be? Somewhere that isn't here, bothering me before I have to get to work?"

"Yes, but you were throwing a tantrum in my messages so I figured I should probably stop by. Oh, how the tables have turned!"

You throw your napkin at him, and he scrambles to his feet just as quickly. "I'll find you later," he says, and you don't like the hint of nefariousness that hangs alongside the threat.

The day is upon you, and the members of MVNE all sit scattered around the elongated table with messy hair and lazy sweatshirts as a staff member from the company goes over the up and coming plans for a fairly hurried comeback schedule.

Normally, music video filming might already be completed. Instead, the following days will involve long hours spent in a salon chair, numerous fittings for attire, and a gauntlet of choreography and line learning; not to mention the studio time necessary for actually recording the song.

You like the demo, and it doesn't sound particularly difficult as far as delivery might be concerned. Recording should be smooth and probably the least time-intensive of all of the tasks required. The woman standing at the front pointing at individual aspects of her Powerpoint presentation insists that it won't be demanding, but really, you can't imagine her to be much of a judge of that.

At one point in the meeting, Woori's eyes find yours, and a quick roll of them commiserates your feelings.

In times like this, you can't help but wonder why the preparation for this is only starting now. MVNE have been busy, but not so much so that there would have been no way to get the wheels in motion long before now. The Boyz comeback has only just ended, and the understanding of not wanting overlap is not lost on you, but that doesn't mean that there had been no reason not to begin recording, filming or choreography learning in the meantime.

It is mildly annoying, a feeling that sits heavy in your chest amongst all of the other ones. A plethora of displeasure. So many options that you can choose from inside of you to ruminate on at any given moment; comeback plans, poor company management, articles online, and amidst all of that—Sunwoo, in general.

To say you feel insecure about where you stand with him would not be an understatement, and while your short conversation with him in the cafe has done its best at staving off those unfortunate thoughts, it cannot possibly be enough. You remain unsure of what the two of you are, and more than that, unsure if you truly wish to delve into an actual discussion about it, either.

Partaking in the perks of a relationship without actually calling it as much won't save you from the hammer of judgment in the public eye should all of this go awry, but for reasons unbeknownst to you, you cling to the idea of it as if it might.

As the meeting comes to a close, agitation has drifted up and taken hold. You do as you're meant to; smile, thank everyone, play the part of an idol who is forever thankful and indebted to the people who have sacrificed so much so that you and the other girls could be here today. It's all a farce; avaricious shareholders sitting at the top to throw money and ideas down the ladder for the smaller, lesser people to bend backwards into forming to fruition. A fact you have always known, and on the worse days such as this, one that makes the smile formed on your lips just a bit more forced than before.

It sounds dramatic when you recount it to yourself; really, you're just having a bad day.

Nara notices your scowl once you all shuffle out of the room and back down the hall. Separate schedules await all of the members, but for you is the promise of a couple of free hours until the late afternoon. Choreography is set to begin as soon as possible, and you're already dreading whatever it is that is awaiting you in that place.

"Do you want to get something to eat downstairs?" she asks, but you're quick to shake your head with plans already made in the back of your mind.

"I'm gonna take a walk, I think. Get some fresh air before this disaster of the next couple of months starts."

She accepts it without pushback—expected from her—and heads off to the next thing that sits upon her plate. You try not to let your thoughts take you to a darker place as you make your way down to the lobby and onto the street, because ideally, you would like to actually enjoy the reprieve that your little, secret coffee shop typically has to offer you.

You take one last inhale of fresh air from the outdoors before stepping inside. The little bell up top jingles, but what awaits you there is something you are not expecting.

People…?

The girl behind the counter looks up and then gasps, wholly unexpecting you at this hour. It's only then that you realize that you don't come here during usual operating hours, that of course it is likely for other patrons to be inside, and that your being here at all could pose an incredibly difficult situation for the people meant to be running it smoothly.

She whips around and dashes over to you, takes you by the arm, and begins ushering you towards the back. Apologies drop from you without more thought accompanying them, but she doesn't seem upset by your being here. 

Eyes from the people seated inside seem less interested in who you are, and more intrigued by the sudden bustle of her shoving you away from them. It all happens so fast; past the counter, beyond the small door that leads to the bathroom, quickly brought past piled boxes and broken chairs that sit piled against a wall and only barely kept out of sight with a hung, purple sheet.

Before you can gather your bearings you are brought around another corner into another small room with a tiny window near the ceiling and a single, tiny table. Seated there is none other than Juyeon.

He looks up at you with a smile already pulling at his cheeks, seemingly amused by a scene that he hasn't even had the luxury of watching play out. "You came in through the normal entrance."

"I didn't know there was another option."

"It's business hours, you're an idol, you can't just waltz into any ol' place anymore. Sit."

The girl hurriedly locates another chair and sets it up at the opposite end of the table, though it is so small that it hardly feels any different from the exact place that he is seated. You exhale heavily, the messiness of the day wears on you in ways that you know are evident to anyone that sees you, and Juyeon is nothing if not perceptive.

"Long day?" he asks.

Your face falls into your hands. "We have a comeback in two months."

"Ah. Yeah, we know that one." Juyeon slowly shoves his cup of coffee towards you and bumps your arm with it so as to alert you to its presence and then he says, "I take it you just got out of your meeting then."

"Everything happens so much."

"And it's going to continue to, so you're just going to have to get used to that." His hand finds your wrist and gently tugs one of your hands away from your face, forcing eye contact between you. "I heard about the other stuff."

You groan through a "yeah."

"I'd love to be able to tell you it's going to get better, and in a lot of ways, it will. It's going to take time, though. The early years are the worst. If you can get through this, you can get through anything."

The girl returns with a cup of coffee and a sandwich of your own. You thank her, and as she leaves, the door to the room is surprisingly slid shut.

This sound makes you alert, and you twist back to confirm the fact. Once you come to fully understand that you are now sharing a private space with this man, you slowly turn back to look at his softly grinning face.

"It's not often that we get to enjoy time like this," he says. "Idols in general, I mean. Just a sectioned off, secluded space to simply be ourselves, and with the company of others who share the burden."

"I try to avoid being alone with any men at this stage in my life, for obvious reasons."

Sitting back, Juyeon shrugs and brings his mug to his lips. The sip he intends to take is paused, and before he does he says, "That's probably for the best, as you've seen, but…" He drinks his coffee, narrow, dark eyes never leaving you for so much as a second and continues with, "Not everyone is as reckless, you know."

With your heart beginning to race, you make an attempt to talk down what you feel might be beginning to form in front of you. Your time spent with Juyeon over the months is something that you have very much come to enjoy; a friendship, a comradery that you don't have with any of the other members of his team, and that feels good to have with someone inside of the idol space, but not amongst your own members, either. Someone who understands, someone who has shared parts of themselves with you, and that has allowed you to do much of the same unto him. You've been so caught up in a whirlwind of something that lately, you don't think you even really understand. Now, you sit and wonder, have you missed this all along? 

Has the way Juyeon looks at you right now, always been the way that he has looked at you?

With a trembling hand, you take a sip from your drink and go to set the mug back down against the saucer, but with your attention still fully grasped by Juyeon, your aim is off; the bottom of it finds the small spoon setting against the porcelain, and it falls to the cement floor deafeningly loud to your sensitive and highly-alert senses.

"Fuck!" It's the first thing that comes to mind, and you wholeheartedly mean it as you scramble to the ground. You can hear Juyeon chuckling under his breath at the exclamation, and as you finally locate the wayward silverware your head juts up to find his face only mere inches from your own.

You hadn't noticed him drop down in an effort to aid your search, and now that the two of you are here together beneath this cramped table space, it feels as though the entire world stops.

His eyes drop down to your lips, your breath catches in your chest and you hold it there remaining perfectly still. Memory recalls your first photoshoot together and that moment in which he had done much of the same; his hand on your leg, the smell of his cologne, the very first time you had allowed yourself to really, truly see him.

"Talking like that is going to get you some online articles of your own," he says, voice low and tone heavy in a way that is felt right down to your bones. Slowly, the distance between your faces begins to close. You remain statuesque as it does, resigning yourself to this, allowing it. Maybe even…

"Sunwoo and I…"

It all but falls out of you. Some inkling of a truth that you've not admitted to anyone, that has never left the confines of closed spaces and secret affairs shared only between the two of you. You recognize it for precisely what it is: something that needs to be done, an honesty that needs to be expressed with urgency, and while the guilt of having done so is of no surprise to you, what does come as a surprise is the tinge of regret that prickles at your skin.

Juyeon stops, pulls away slightly and with wide eyes of genuine stun he says, "Oh, I didn't know you were dating."

With the stupid spoon in hand, you finally climb back into your chair and once seated back into some sort of relative order, Juyeon awkwardly glances around a bit and adds: "For once he didn't say anything about it."

You slowly close your eyes and contemplate what would have to happen for this day to get any worse.

"I wouldn't say that we're dating."

He cocks his head quizzically. "Sleeping together…?"

"I wouldn't say that, either."

"Sounds complicated in exactly the sort of ways I might expect from Sunwoo," Juyeon says, and you're charmed by his ability to quickly brush off the messy happenings of only moments prior. "Then the gossip sites are right. They didn't allude to you, so I presume there's no concern of the two of you being spotted out together?"

It all sounds so juvenile when you are forced to put it into a verbalized perspective. You take another clumsy sip of your coffee and say, "No, we don't really… go out."

Juyeon laughs at that. Full and hearty, and it does little to quell the humiliation already rushing through your veins.

"You don't go out, but you're not sleeping together, either." He leans back and crosses his arms, less judging, and far more amused. You're not sure which you might prefer. "I hate to say it, but this is just so incredibly him. Sunwoo really never is going to beat the loser loverboy allegations."

Flustered, you feel driven to right some sort of incomprehensible wrong that you're not even sure is being spoken of. "I mean, it's not like we're not…"

"Oh, I'm sure, but he's just not the kind of guy that's going to rush to it," Juyeon says. "He has all these romanticized ideas about life, love… sex. I'm sure you've noticed."

The crushing realization that you're talking about not fucking Sunwoo with Juyeon suddenly becomes dizzyingly apparent,  and your palms find your face once more.

"You don't have to be embarrassed about it," he adds, "I had my suspicions."

"I'm not embarrassed!" you say, though that's an obvious lie and you make quick work of trying to amend it. "It's not that. Neither of us have told anyone about this, and now all these articles are coming out and we have to have meetings with our managers about them and deal with the thinly veiled threats that come along with them. He's never around, he's too busy; now with my own comeback around the corner I'm going to be too busy, and it just sort of feels like—"

"What's the point?" he interjects.

"Yeah," you say through a sigh. Admittedly, it feels freeing to be able to talk about it with someone that you know is safe to do so with, and so, you continue. "Sunwoo has all these ideas—like you said—and sometimes it feels a little bit like none of it is really grounded in reality. I'd like to be all-in with him, I'd love to be able to meet him there, but sometimes it feels like I'm the only one out of the two of us that's willing to take the rose-colored glasses off and look at this with any level of realism."

Juyeon listens to your words and for a moment, sits with you in silence as the aftermath of your truth washes over the both of you. He offers a small, understanding nod that, for once, gives you the kind of comfort that you've long since been seeking when it comes to all of this: that someone gets where it is that you're coming from. That your apprehensions are not unfounded, and that the worry you carry is very much grounded and real.

Then he leans forward, hands folded against the table and says, "Do you want me to be honest with you?"

The question feels daunting in ways you couldn't have anticipated, and though you strongly feel the urgency of something that you do not want to hear sitting on the other side, you muster up the courage and tell him "yes."

"The worst thing that can happen is that the company catches wind of this before anyone else does," he says, voice soft and quiet despite your privacy. "I know that sounds backwards, how could it be worse than the public finding out? But I promise you, once they get a hold of it then they'll be able to spin any kind of narrative they want, and there's no telling what that could be. Media play against you, media play against him, they might even want to force you into admitting the truth despite it not even really being the case. Whatever they think works best and easiest for them is what they're going to do, and absolutely no consideration for either of you will be taken into account."

The thought of it sends chills down your spine.

"Honestly? You'd be better off just hard-launching on social media," he adds.

"Are you insane!?"

Juyeon laughs at the outburst. "I'm not saying you should do that, I'm saying it'd probably be better than whatever they could cook up. None of us want to think about it for obvious reasons, but those people don't care about us. That's just how it is. The point I'm trying to make is: this isn't sustainable as it's currently going. Sunwoo is about as hard to see through as a window pane, he's already slipping up enough for his fans to notice. Won't be long until one of you gets caught out in public with the wrong hoodie on because they got swapped on the bedroom floor."

Another groan escapes you. Indeed, you did not want to hear this level of truth-telling.

"I like to think I'm a little bit smarter than that one, at least."

Eyes on you firmly, Juyeon raises a pointed eyebrow and says, "I am not concerned about you."

"Alright, then I have to ask," you say, melting down into your uncomfortable wooden chair, "If you were in this situation, what would you do?"

"I want to be clear that I never would be in this situation, for starters." 

You do not appreciate his comical prowess at this given moment.

"But…" he says, carrying on, "If I was, and this wasn't just some fleeting, fun moment in both of our lives that neither of us genuinely see a future in, then we'd just have to sit down and have a very serious talk about it. Lay everything out on the table; your feelings, what both of you want out of this, how to move forward in a way that doesn't jeopardize both of your careers. It's not going to be fun, and both of you are going to have to give up a lot and choose not to do certain things that you probably really want to do. Secret meetings at restaurants or trips to places together; that's all a thing of the past now, it was the moment you signed that contract and then stepped out onto that debut stage."

The weight of a reality that you've already known feels suffocating now, more than ever. You have no words to give to him right then, only a thin, tight smile that you hope gets across your thankfulness.

"I know you know all of this," Juyeon adds, "Now you're going to have to remind him before the company does."

It's daunting, and your swift trip to the bathroom afterwards is less because of the coffee consumed, and far more to expel the contents of your stomach; truth and all.

There are no sick days in the life of an idol, and today more than ever you are made painfully aware of that fact.

Your stomach still twists with the reminder of a conversation prior, but there is choreography to learn and a comeback looming in the near horizon that tells you that you are not afforded the common luxury of sitting at home and feeling sorry for yourself. No one cares that you're not feeling up to it, and your job is to shut up and make everyone believe that you are.

The elevator doors open, and the cleaning staff must have just had their way with it because it reeks of products and sanitation. This scent is nothing new to you, though it is one that you have long since become accustomed to in a way that you almost don't even notice these days. It serves as another reminder of why you are here and what is expected of you; to be perfect, to rise to everyone's expectations at all times, and if you can't, then you better pretend that you can.

Or else.

You press the button for the twelfth floor, light-headed and uncomfortable. Now is your last chance to shake all of this off and walk into that room with your best face on and the capacity to learn.

After three floors, the elevator stops, the doors slide open, and your stomach fucking drops.

"Sunwoo."

He is delighted to see you, and you wish that you could match his enthusiasm. Perhaps in any other circumstance, during any other day you would, but with the events regarding your comeback, regarding Juyeon, regarding him only just having happened, the best you can give him is an awkward smile as he enters along with you.

And he wastes no time closing the distance between your bodies.

Your hands fly up and force space, lightly pushing him away from you as you insist that he doesn't do this.

"I've missed you," he says, and you are so weak to him by now that your efforts to keep him at bay quickly fall flat. Sunwoo's hands slip under the hem of your shirt and fingertips press into the skin of your waist as he draws you closer towards him. "I want to see you, I have to leave again soon, but before I do…"

Just as your back finds the wall of the elevator, his lips press against yours. Your breath leaves you, all of the fight you had just had dissipates in that very moment. How do you find the strength to turn away something that ultimately, you desperately desire?

Palms pressed against his chest and once used to push him away now curl into the cloth beneath them to hold him in place. Sunwoo's mouth slips down from yours to travel the line of your jaw and subsequently along the column of your throat. You've been here so many times before that it comes as second nature for your head to fall back and allow him to have his taste. Warm breath wafts over damp patches of skin where his tongue has just been, your eyes flutter open as the elevator continues to slowly travel towards its destination; and then, you spot it. The camera hanging in the corner, placed to watch for any misdoings.

Your blood runs cold, all of those feelings of horror, and fright, and anger rush through your body once more and you shove him away with all of your might. Sunwoo stumbles back, shocked and confused by the sudden turn of events, and you nod up towards the recording device that clearly, he has not been made aware of through the numerous years prior.

"Oh, they don't check that thing unless something happens," he reasons, "Ya know, like if someone got, I don't know, killed or whatever, then they check the footage. I promise they're not scouring hours of footage to see if their talent is making out in the elevator."

His nonchalant attitude about the entire thing only serves to anger you more, and with a plethora of things you want to say, you have to steady yourself and think through the options as to not land a far more hurtful blow than what is deserved. The truth of the matter, however, is that you are hurting. You have been hurting under the tremendous weight of a situation that only you seem to be bothered to care about even half as much as it is deserving of, and now that the final straw has broken the camel's back, you can't help but unleash it and force him to share that pain.

With trembling breath, you shake your head and say, "You can't keep doing this. You're going to destroy everything, you're going to ruin both of our lives." Your voice shakes as you speak your truth, the unbearable agony of all of this finally spilling out of you, tears beginning to well up in your eyes. "You're so fucking reckless. Do you even care if anything happens? Maybe you can handle the blowback of something like this coming out, but I can't. Do you even think about that, or is all you think about just whatever you want in one, single moment?"

Sunwoo stares back at you with a dumbfounded sort of expression, but you're not finished.

"You're gone all the time, you don't even answer me when I try to get a hold of you, when I try to have a very serious discussion about what is already beginning to happen to us. You're so fucking immature! You can't just disappear and then show back up like nothing has even happened, continue to act like this like nobody is ever watching. Sunwoo, they are watching! And guess what? They fucking know." 

"I said I was sorry," he mumbles out, barely audible.

The lashing of your words is visible on his form. Sunwoo stands in front of you with a fallen face that no longer shows any signs of the jovial, bright-eyed idol that you've always known and adored. What stands before you now is a man that is faced with the mounting consequences of his actions—actions he has not fully considered as they have taken place—and the aching understanding that he has, in fact, been wrong.

"But…" he says, and that singular word sends piques the anxiety already coursing through you.

"You think you're the only one that stands to lose everything from this?" Sunwoo's arms dangle lifeless at his sides as he watches you, his expression a somewhat indiscernible mix of thoughts and feelings that he never quite has been able to fully conceal. One of many you are able to pick out, however, is woundedness.

"You think this won't ruin my career if it were to get out? You don't think that's something I think about and grapple with every single day? I make a choice every time we see each other, and I'm forced to decide if this—what we're doing—is worth it to me. You think I'm not thinking about it, I have to think about it. It's all I think about every second of every day."

He brings a hand up and drags it through the air as if to highlight a line of invisible text standing between you. "'Senior idol grooming fans, predatory behavior, power imbalance fully acted upon,' that's what the headlines will read. You think that's something I can recover from? Something I just brush off and don't have the mind to consider? Have you considered it recently? Because you used to, at least."

"Then why are you so reckless about it?" you ask, pleading for his understanding. "The fans have noticed, people have noticed. Now that the idea is out there they're going to continue watching and looking for the signs, and it's only a matter of time until one of us slips up, we can't keep—"

"I want to see you!" Sunwoo snaps. "You're terrified! You want this but you're unwilling to take the leap, unwilling to take any steps that make this safe because you're afraid if you do, then that's going to make it too real. It's like… you think that if you're a bystander in all of this—if I'm the one that takes all the leads in it—then you'll have enough plausible deniability to escape the wrath of public perception when it inevitably does break. Does that not sound like you're perfectly happy to let me take the fall for this?" He laughs under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief at his own words and then says, "And even still, even knowing this, I still do it. I still choose you every time."

Sunwoo's honestly hits you hard, and though you part your lips in hopes of issuing a reply, all that rips from you is a terrible, gut-wrenching sob.

"Honestly, what else do you want me to do? We can put the ball in your court and we both know where that will lead. If that's what you want, then you should just say it." His voice shakes at the tail end of the sentence, and you can't bear to look at him for fear of what you might find. "We don't have to do this, we can call it quits right now and I'll deal with that. But…" Finally, you force yourself to look up at him. This isn't what you wanted, this is so far from what you wanted. Sunwoo shakes his head gently, as if he is as much in disbelief of this outcome as you are and finally he finishes it by saying, "How long do you expect me to pretend that I don't lo—" Ding!

The elevator stops, the doors fly open, and there stands Serri, Kaia and Miyoung.

Sunwoo turns to look at them, and you meet their awed stares at the scene that they have just stumbled upon. Not a single word is spoken for what feels like a lifetime to you, the seconds ticking by like hours as silence fills the space. All you can hear is the pounding of your heart in your own ears, that is, until Sunwoo exhales a heavy sigh and fully turns to face the three of them.

"Listen to me very carefully," he starts, with a firmness to his voice that you've never quite heard before. "As your senior, this moment right here? This never happened. Are we clear?"

All three of them nod slowly.

"Great." It's far from great, and the sarcasm dripping from Sunwoo's utterance of it makes that incredibly clear. He turns back to look at you as you quickly try to wipe your face and make yourself presentable even though the damage has already been done. He sighs again and simply says, "I'll leave first."

And leave first, he does.

[that-sudsy]

John "Soap" MacTavish x Reader

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or images used in this work, nor do I claim any rights to them.

⚠️ : Kissing

Word count: 1490 Masterlist

You and Soap had been friends for quite some time. From the very beginning of training, you met at the enlistment office and were officially introduced to each other at the cafeteria after training. You became inseparable best friends. Even after getting recruited into Task Force 141 for being the best of the best in your class, you both shared laughs over the callsigns that seemed to fit you perfectly.

Soap and Viper—you were known for your fast reflexes and sharp hits, using the knife like a snake would to strike its opponent. Your callsign truly described you.

You were accurate and good at your job; you got what you always dreamed of, but... you ended up developing feelings for the young Scotsman. It made you feel soft around him. You tried to hide it for a long time, convincing yourself it was just a small crush. But as months passed, your feelings only grew stronger. You couldn’t help but admire the way he fixed his hair, the icy blue of his eyes, and the way his muscles flexed when he moved. You even memorized the sound of his footsteps.

You tried to find flaws about him, hoping to discourage yourself from liking the Scottish lad. You told yourself his voice was annoying—nope. His accent was hot. He was short—nope. He was the perfect height for you. He was disorganized—nope. He may toss his stuff into bins, but he kept it neat. You... you couldn’t find a flaw.

One night, after a rough mission, you and the team decided to grab drinks. While drinking, the others wandered off to watch a soccer game on TV, leaving you and Johnny by the axe-throwing area, talking about home, favorite foods, and everything in between. The whiskey loosened your tongue, making it easier to say what you really wanted to say without hesitation. You both took turns throwing axes, but neither of you hit a bullseye.

As the conversation turned to a sensitive subject, Johnny kept pushing for an answer, despite your attempts to wave it off.

"Why don’t ye get with anyone? I’ve never seen ye go out on a date. Come on, don’t give me that busy nonsense," he laughed. "It almost seems like—"

Your mind was too clouded to think of a filter, and you didn’t want to hide it anymore, so you snapped.

"Johnny... just shut up! Shut UP! It’s because I wanted it to be you... I wanted it to be you so much..." you said, looking at him with a serious expression before you realized what you just said.

You shook your head. "Forget what I said. I’m going home." You prepped to leave, tossing the axe one last time. To both your and Johnny’s surprise, it hit bullseye.

He looked at you with wide eyes, shock and speechlessness washing over him. He wanted to go after you and ask about it, but he knew you needed your space. He stared at his unfinished glass of scotch and sighed, his mind foggy. All he could think about was you.

He nursed his drink, gulping, recalling how many times you were there when he needed someone. When he was injured, you were there. When he couldn’t sleep or when nightmares haunted him, you were there. He thought about the moments when he smiled just hearing your voice through the radio, the sound of your laughter in response to his corny dad jokes, or when he was goofing around when Price wasn’t looking—you were always there. He realized the girl he always wanted was with him all along—the girl he always said he was waiting for.

He shook his head, running his hands over his face, feeling stupid for not seeing it. "Why didn’t I see it?" Johnny mumbled. That’s when Price came and sat beside him, noticing Johnny’s slumped shoulders.

"What’s botherin’ you lad?" he asked.

Johnny sighed, dropping his hands. "What would ye do, Price, when ye’re too blind to see the right person was right in front of ye and ye messed it up?" he asked, like a kid would to a father.

Price smiled, patting his shoulder. "Let me guess... Viper?"

Johnny looked at him in surprise and nodded. "Ye knew?"

Price nodded. "Aye, the whole team does. Even Laswell caught the heart eyes when she’s rarely with us. The two are like two puzzles that wouldn’t stop spinnin’ and wouldn’t piece together."

Johnny sighed. "Why didn’t ye tell me?"

Price looked at him. "Because we wanted ye to figure it out on your own. Yer a demolition expert; ye catch clues quick, but this... you never figured it out."

Johnny felt stupid for not seeing it. He groaned and sighed, feeling terrible. Price reassured him, patting his back. "You can still fix it. You can still win her heart," he said. "Go after her and tell her how ye really feel, Johnny."

Johnny balled up his courage and got off the stool. As he headed to the exit, Ghost and Gaz stood together with smirks.

Ghost was the first to speak. "She’s headin’ to the base rooftop."

Gaz continued, "She didn’t bring a toque, and it’s cold outside." He handed Johnny a toque.

Johnny smiled, grateful for the support from his pals, before dashing outside the bar, wearing his coat. His breath was visible in the cold air as he ran toward the base, climbing the stairs to the rooftop, breathless. He trained to run, and he was sure he’d get there in no time.

When he reached the rooftop, he found you hugging your legs against your chest, clearly upset about something. Not wanting to startle you, he cleared his throat and called out your name, catching your attention. He walked over and placed the toque on your head to keep you warm. "Ye’ll catch a cold if ye don’t wear one, bonnie," Johnny said softly.

"What are you doin’ here, John?" you asked, not even looking at him.

"I came lookin’ for ye," he said, his tone gentle. "I’m stupid for not noticing that I love ye," he blurted out, struggling to find the right words. He wanted to tell you that he had loved you since he laid eyes on you back at the training grounds, that he admired how strong and brave you were, and that he never slept with or dated anyone because he always wanted you.

But the words were stuck in his throat, and all that came out were stutters. You looked at him with wide, sparkling eyes under the moonlight.

He cupped your cheeks in his large, rough hands and kissed you passionately, pouring everything he wanted to say into the kiss. You were taken aback by the sudden action but kissed him back, pushing him back slightly to give him a wondering and confused look.

"I love ye since I can remember. I was just too stupid to see it. I’m sorry, bonnie. I should’ve acted on my feelings."

You smiled, finally hearing it from him. You ran your hand through his hair and smiled.

"No, it’s not your fault; it’s mine. I should’ve told ye too, but I was too scared to lose you... and our friendship."

"Well, I guess we’re both idiots then,"

Johnny muttered with a smile, leaning his forehead against yours.

"Aye, we are."

"At least I know now, I’m yours and yours only, bonnie. I’ll try to make up for lost time."

You smiled. "And I think I know a way."

He raised his brows, curious. "And what’s that?"

"Kiss me," you whispered against his lips before he kissed you passionately again, holding you close against him on the rooftop of the base.

From a distance, Price, Ghost, and Gaz watched, smiling.

"About time the two finally stopped pinning after each other," Ghost muttered proudly.

Gaz nodded, paying Price fifty.

Lesson: Love often blooms in the most unexpected places, especially when nurtured by the roots of friendship. Their journey teaches us that open communication is the key to unlocking true feelings, reminding us that taking emotional risks can lead to the sweetest rewards. With the support of their friends, they discover that vulnerability can pave the way for deeper connections, proving that sometimes, the best love stories begin with a strong bond of friendship. So, let your heart speak, embrace the courage to express your feelings, and remember that love, when shared with honesty and warmth, can turn even the simplest moments into something truly magical.

Note: Toque (pronounced as Tuke) is a beanie, bonnet those knitted wool cap that keeps your ears and head warm...it's a 🇨🇦 Canadian slang... Sorry.

[winterdadandspiderson]

WINTERDAD AU #1

(part one because this got way too long. this is essentially the plot of an old fic i started back in 2020 and what would've happened of i'd continued it. i might try and write it again one day, perhaps, if i don't give up after 2 chapters. anyway here we go)

- mary parker was a shield agent when she met the winter soldier, both were on a mission. they fought, but never got as far as mortally wounding each other. mary would always slip away. it was like a game. bucky had been kept out the ice for a few weeks at that point, running a long job. but the longer he's out, the more he starts to remember little pieces, who he used to be.

- mary feels pity for him, seeing through the stone cold image hydra forged for him, to the person within. they fight. but then they also talk. they keep seeing each other while bucky scouts. eventually one thing leads to another and they develop a relationship of sorts. 

- mary later discovers she's pregnant but bucky never finds out. he's taken back, wiped and put under the ice once more. mary quits her job at shield so she can provide for her kid and keep them safe. knowing full well if anyone in shield or hydra caught wind that she was carrying the winter soldiers child, they'd never be safe.

- she's sad that bucky disappeared again, she knows hydra likely had him wiped and iced again. but she moves on, meeting richard soon after who she tells she's expecting a son, that the father disappeared without a word (technically not a lie) he tells her he'll love him like he's his regardless.

- when her son is born she names him peter james parker (during the few weeks they met, the last time they talked, bucky ended up remembering his first name, mary wanted peter to have at least a piece of him)

- peter ends up looking a LOT like bucky. he has the same shade of dark brown hair, facial structure which shows as he grows. but he has mary's eyes)

- the plane crash was really just an unfortunate incident. peter still goes to live with aunt may and uncle ben when he's seven. and then things go as they usually do in canon. the avengers form, yada yada all that stuff, you know the drill.

- when he's 14 peter is bitten by the radioactive spider. BUT. an important detail here is that due to the expiermentation bucky was subjected to by hydra and the enhancements which altered his genes, some of that, though remaining dormant, passed onto peter. but it didn't really do anything, it was just there. but it did keep him alive after the spider bite. without those enhancements in his blood peter would've died. instead, he gained his powers.

- uncle ben still gets shot, which as usual influences peter to become spider-man. and months after tony still comes along and recruits him to fight in germany. peter does.

- when he briefly faces bucky ("you have a metal arm? that is AWESOME, dude!") neither know so that also goes as normal. bucky is bewhildered by the kid who managed to block a hit with so much force behind it, while also shocked to know that he was just that, a kid.

- now one vastly different thing here is that while the avengers do split for a good year, steve and tony eventually talk and make amends. the avengers reassemble, deciding that they need to put the world before their feud. they're not on super good terms, but they tolerate each other. tony still refuses to forgive bucky.

- homecoming happens during the time where things are still rocky between the avengers so peter still deals with vulture alone. but he does see tony more often, stopping by for lab days to work on his suit among other things, to keep up the "internship" charade. tony grows fond of him, though he doesn't admit it.

its post homecoming where things start to go wrong.

[sgtmickeyslaughter]

In Your Love - 82k words

Mickey had been out of prison for 2 years and Ian never would have known, until they ran into one another on a random night in May. Ian fights for the love they shared while Mickey fights for the life he built, as they both struggle with shame and guilt from their shared past it becomes clear that they cannot help but be drawn to what is bright and beautiful between them. Tags: Tattoo artist Mickey Milkovich, EMT Ian Gallagher, Canon Divergent Season 6/7ish, Angst with a Happy Ending, Slow burn, Getting back together

Psychopomp - 28k words

Every patron in the Alibi went eerily silent as a news anchor announced that an infamous local thug and escaped convict was found dead in Mexico. The news was met with casual disappointment or outright cheers, but Ian Gallagher couldn't tear his eyes away from the small TV hung over the bar as the world seemed to burn around him. At the same time, a federal transport van sped up a stretch of highway just north of the border. Inside, Mickey Milkovich woke up in a body bag, and he was hungry. Tags: Vampire Mickey Milkovich, Canon divergence, Blood and violence, Bipolar Ian Gallagher, Temporary character death (vampire stuff), Angst with a Happy Ending

Lovers Carvings' - 28k words

Six conversations between Ian and Mickey between 10x10 and life beyond Tags: Post canon, Married Ian Gallagher and Mickey Milkovich, Dialogue Heavy, Fix-it (kind of)

Both Sides Now - 16k words

In 2011, Ian and Mickey struggle with conflicting desires as their relationship grows. When the universe decides to drop them in 2024, their older selves balance the task of setting them on the right path while grappling with their history. Spoiler alert: it all works out in the end. Tags: Time travel, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Season 2 meets Post Canon, Married Ian Gallagher and Mickey Milkovich, Husbands in Love, Idiots in love

City on a Hill - 18k words

As he left Cook County jail with the image of Mickey's heartbroken eyes locked behind bullet proof glass burned into his mind, Ian couldn't let Yevgeny slip away too. Between prison and marriage Ian kept his relationship with the kid and his mother a secret out of fear and trepidation. Years later, as Ian and Mickey live out their happy ending, he struggles to keep that secret in the dark. Tags: Hurt/Comfort, fluff and angst, Married Ian Gallagher and Mickey Milkovich, Yevgeny Milkovich, Svetlana Milkovich, Domestic, mentions of past canon-noncon (3x06), angst with a happy ending

Time of the Season - 10k (In progress)

Ian and Mickey, making love through the seasons. Tags: Porn without plot, fluff and smut, pillow princess Mickey Milkovich, Post canon

The Man of Metropolis Steals Our Hearts - 2.5k

It took thirty years to become Mickey Milkovich, good things take time. Tags: Mickey's 30th birthday, fluff, husbands in love

Toothache - 6k

The misadventures of Ian Gallagher, boy vampire. Tags: Vampire Ian, Growing up together

Losing Dogs - 86k

When the certainty of his father’s violence and perversion is revealed, Mickey is faced with two options: leave Chicago, or stay with Ian and his family. As their lives become more intricately intertwined, Ian and Mickey find themselves spiraling out of control and they're both left wondering if they were always betting on losing dogs. Tags: Canon-Divergent, teenage romance, they're deeply in love, read the tags on ao3 carefully

Link to my A03

Link to my library playlist

[foxyanon]

Convincingly Human: Part 1

Summary: Sihtric moves to Coocham and meets an interesting woman with a secret. Takes place between Season 2 and Season 3.

Pairing: Sihtric Kjartansson x Dragon Shifter!reader

Rating: 18+, MDNI

TW: creature death by fire

Word Count: 2208

Part 2

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from The Last Kingdom nor do I own any of the images used.

Dividers by @arcielee and @zaldritzosrose

He had moved to Coocham with Uhtred and the rest of the men, finally settling down after all the events following Beamfleot. Even though his lord had denied his request to marry so he may start a family, after everything that happened, he was just a bit relieved. He wouldn’t admit it, but it wasn’t until after the battle when he realized he wasn’t quite ready for that chapter of his life. At least, that is what he thought until he met her many moons after he settled into his own home.

The first time he had seen her, he was completely taken back by her beauty. Stunning would be an understatement of a word to describe her, a sentiment shared by many of the men in Coocham. She only ever visited the market once a week, purchasing supplies before leaving Coocham once more to wherever she went. Sihtric was enamored immediately, not letting the teasing and jests of his friends stop him from attempting to pursue her. He learned she didn’t live in town from the baker’s wife, apparently choosing to remain separated from society but for what reason no one could say. The day he finally gathered up the courage to approach her was one he’ll remember fondly, the way she spoke to him with genuine kindness and the way she said his name after introducing herself had his palms sweating from the nerves. It wasn’t until she practically floated away at the end of their brief interaction that he realized there was far more to her than meets the eye.

After that day, he started watching her far more closely, noting the way she carried herself with a confidence even Uhtred could not match and moved unnaturally gracefully. Her skin was flawless, not such much as even a freckle on her face. Her teeth were pearly white and straight, something he had never seen before. There were no scars or calluses on her hands, no dirty nails or even dirt on her. She was easily the cleanest woman he had ever seen, no dirt or dust on her clothes and not a hair out of place from her simple styles. In truth, she was perfect. Too perfect.

He tried bringing it up to Finan and Osferth a week later, but they brushed him off and said he shouldn’t look too far into it, both of them more concerned with enjoying the relative peace they were afforded for the time. He didn’t wish to bother Uhtred with his concerns, since he was busy with his own duties and his family. No one else was willing to hear his words on the matter and instead, he figured that he was the only one who noticed that there was something off about this woman.

It took a few months of observing and getting nowhere, so he finally decided to ask her to join him for a drink at the ale house. Perhaps if she had a little alcohol in her system, she would slip up and Sihtric would see beyond the illusion that surrounded her. Was it the proper thing to do? No, but he was too scared to ask her outright in the event he offended her and something in her demeanor warned him not to do that. When she agreed to join him that evening, he won’t deny the sheer joy he felt at the possibility of spending more than just a few moments in her presence made him forget the whole reason he asked in the first place.

The evening passed by smoothly, ale flowing and conversation moving at just the right pace, but she didn’t show any signs of being affected at all. Sihtric was dumbfounded, she had matched him mug for mug and didn’t so much as even slur a single word. The ale house was warm from all the bodies occupying the hall, and even though he was starting to sweat from heat, she seemed completely unphased by it. Gods, her face wasn’t even flushed, but no one else noticed since they were too deep in their cups or focused on their lovers.

At one point, the ale house was so loud he leaned closer to her he could say something to her only for the most potent and intoxicating scent radiating off her skin to overwhelm his senses. It was rich and smoky, slightly sweet and altogether not entirely unpleasant. He groaned softly before catching himself, his eyes locking with hers as she gave him a knowing grin. Sihtric flushed with embarrassment, clearing his throat and downing the rest of his drink and forgetting what he was doing, once again. Every time he spoke, she gave him her undivided attention and when the torch light flickered against her eyes, he swore they appeared almost serpentine and glowed with an inner fire, but when he blinked they were normal once more. He thought maybe his ale addled mind was playing tricks on him, but something in the way she smiled at him told him otherwise.

That night, after having said goodbye and parting ways, Sihtric didn’t sleep a wink as he mulled over every interaction with her. He thought himself to exhaustion, thinking how she remained a mystery even after an entire evening spent with her. She looked and acted human, but only on the surface. He couldn’t quite wrap his mind around it, refusing to believe she was something more on just blind faith. Maybe Finan and Osferth were right, he shouldn’t look too far into it, lest he find an answer he isn’t ready for. His last thought before succumbing to sleep was that he should just accept this was something he was not meant to know.

Rumors from traveling merchants had the whole of Coocham abuzz, stories of some beasts lurking within the woods and preying on the unsuspecting along the roads setting Sihtric on edge. He wasn’t completely oblivious to the rumors that unnatural creatures lurked within the forests at night, but his fear was less for himself and more for his pretty lady. He knew she lived out there alone and even if she was more than a little strange, he worried for her safety against those monsters. When he saw her next, he pulled her off to the side, wanting her to stay in town with him for the time but she refused.

”Please, my lady. It is not safe for you to be alone out there, the stories from travelers worsen everyday. Is there nothing I can say to convince you to stay in town?” He all but pleaded with her, staring into her enchanting eyes and hoping she would see reason.

“I promise you Sihtric, I will be fine. There is nothing out there that will harm me, trust me. Your concern for me is touching and I do appreciate it, but it is wholly unnecessary,” was her response before she glided off once more, leaving him at a loss for words.

He ran his hand down his face after she had left, thinking of how he could ensure her safety before deciding to do something impulsive. If she wouldn’t stay with him, then maybe he could keep an eye on her out there. Which is exactly what he would do, loading his horse with supplies for a day or two after informing Uhtred he was going to look into the rumors of these beasts. It wasn’t a complete lie, but he knew his lord wouldn’t just let him leave if he said he wanted to check in on a random woman. Finan gave him a knowing look, but he knew better than to try and stop the Dane when he had that determined look in his eye.

So, here he was, riding out towards where he guessed his mysterious lady lived as the sun began its descent in the early afternoon. It was foolish and reckless, but he was a warrior and had no fear facing that which goes bump in the night. He set up camp in a clearing after having wandered for some time, the sky varying shades of purple and blue as the sun sank low on the horizon, having not had luck finding where she might live. Normally, the sounds of the night didn’t bother him but this night was different. He couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched and he was consciously aware that he was alone out here, the moonlight casting its pale glow on the wildflowers that grew among the grass. He fell into an uneasy sleep in his bedroll, the fire dying down and the chill of the night slowly creeping into his furs.

A low growl woke him from his fitful sleep, his eyes snapping open as he saw the unmistakable yellow eyes of a werewolf staring back at him. The large beast was on all fours, saliva dripping from its open mouth and teeth gleaming in the moonlight. The two stared at each other, Sihtric cursing himself internally for not having packed a silver blade in his haste to leave Coocham as he wrapped his hand around the hilt of his sword, preparing for a fight he may not win. He knew the only way to land even a blow would come from the element of surprise and well timed dodging, as there was no way he would move faster or be stronger than the werewolf. For a beat, they merely looked at each other before the wolf launched himself at Sihtric, the latter dodging at the last moment and bringing his blade down to slash at the torso. He managed to slice a shallow cut, only serving to anger the creature much to his chagrin. The feral and now pissed werewolf backhanded Sihtric in the stomach, effectively throwing him several feet away from the small camp and knocking the wind out of him as his sword was flung from his grasp.

Just as Sihtric’s vision cleared slightly, the beast was on him, pinning him down with its large paws and snarling in his face. His hands came up to push against the creature's chest, pouring every ounce of his strength into fighting it off. Before the wolf could make the final kill, a loud roar filled the air before the ground shook and a massive dragon landed harshly not far from the fighting pair. The wolf seemed to be distracted by the newest arrival, giving Sihtric the opportunity to wiggle out from under it as the dragon slowly advanced on them, a deep rumble escaping its maw. He stared at the mythical creature, feeling light headed from both the fight and the realization that such a being existed. Sure he had heard stories, but they were supposed to be just that, stories.

The two supernatural entities growled and snarled at each other, the werewolf clearly not wanting to fight but angered its meal was interrupted. Sihtric tried to slowly make his way to his blade, giving the creatures a wide berth while keeping his eyes on them. He was breathing heavy and moving slow, the adrenaline beginning to wear off and the pain of his injuries making themselves known. No sooner than he had his sword in hand did the dragon roar lowly once more, a warning for the wolf to leave or else. Seeming to consider its options, its yellowed gaze switching between Sihtric and the scaled beast before deciding to try its luck at getting Sihtric. A foolish choice, and its last.

Before the werewolf made a bound in his direction, scorching hot fire poured from the mouth of the dragon and engulfed the werewolf. The smell of burning flush and the sound of crying wolf overwhelmed Sihtric’s already sensitive senses, and his vision blurred at the edges as he turned away and proceeded to hurl the contents of his stomach onto the barely lit ground. He used his sword as a makeshift cane as he dropped to his knees, the familiar feeling of the hilt grounding him in his rapidly shifting reality. He turned his head and looked at the dragon, who was already watching him closely. He may have imagined it, but he could swear the damned thing looked concerned for him. He had no fight left in him, a look of acceptance for his inevitable death crossing his face as he hoped the dragon would make it quick.

Naturally, this night would only get weirder for him as the beast walked a bit closer before its scales started to twist and fold in on itself, shrinking in size until the unmistakable look of human legs and arms appeared as it shifted into its mortal form. The wings wrapped around the now human, scales disappearing beneath skin as it walked closer, the face of the dragon morphing into a face Sihtric knew all too well. Horns slowly shrank into her skull and as leathery wings forced their way back into her skin between her shoulder blades. Sihtric’s vision blurred once more as the blood rushed to his head, the last thing he saw before fainting entirely being the face of the woman he had been out here for, her bare arms catching him before his head hit the ground.

Tagging: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @whitedarkmoonflower @gemini-mama @mrsarnasdelicious @synintheraven

@zaldritzosrose @alexagirlie @legitalicat @thenameswinter99 @fallingintoyourlilaceyes

[everlasting-rainfall]

I'm imaging a platonic version of your pages au with Whitebeard...

Maybe the book is about found family with a "larger than life" pirate who adopts the MC and Whitebeard reads it during his medical appointments and believes it's about him and his "new daughter", so he tracks down the author and abducts her so she can join her new family.

Any thoughts? 👀

OH MY GOD, THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! I ADORE PLATONIC YANDERE’S LIKE THEY MAKE ME 🎆🎇🎆!! I LOVE THEM SO MUCH!!!

Thank you so much for sending this ask in, dearie!! I’ll make sure that it’s a lot of fun to read!! And for any of you reading this, feel free to send in some more stuff about platonic yandere’s especially if it’s Familial Yandere’s!

God, I love it so much!! It’s so freaking cute!!

Anyways before I start exploding like fireworks sprayed with a flamethrower, let’s get into it! Shall we?

I hope this is what you want! Also keep in mind that there’s no romance here, it’s all Platonic!!

!-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT AT ALL-!

!-POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNINGS-!

Delusions, Kidnapping, Getting Heavily Babied, Character Death, Spoilers for Marineford, No Chance of Escape, Trapped Forever

!-POTENTIAL TRIGGER WARNINGS-!

!-MINORS DO NOT INTERACT AT ALL-!

Okay so let’s say that the books are still about romance like there’s still the Pirate versus Marine love story but you decided to take a break from writing about that story to focus on something else like maybe you wrote a new book in the series

And this book entirely focuses on the main character getting separated from the love interests like maybe there was an accident at sea that made the MC fall overboard and they wind up being found by like this other group

This group takes them in and they’re kinda hostile at first but they become more trusting and caring over time eventually deciding to basically adopt the MC into the group as like the youngest sibling to the parent of the group

It doesn’t last forever though as at the end of the book, there’s a tearful goodbye between the main character as they’ve been found by the pirate and the marine so they have to return to their old life, a promise is made to not forget them and the group even helps the main character and their friends escape some pursuing enemies

End on a note of the parental figure of the group watching as the main character vanishes into the distance with their love interests and quietly saying “May you always find happiness, my dear son/daughter” or something to that extent

So with enough time, this book eventually lands in the hands of Whitebeard like let’s say that Marco got it for him to keep him from getting bored during his medical appointments and he appreciates the gift from his son so I’d say that he reads it

Like he’s sitting there getting a check up for his health and at first, he’s a little bored especially as he has no clue what’s going on due to this being a book later on in the series but he does know that he doesn’t like the Pirate or the Marine as they both seem annoying to him

He was about to put the book down and never touch it again but figured that he had about an hour left on the appointment so he might as well keep reading so he does getting to the part where the MC meets the group and gets taken in

Now he’s getting a bit interested and so he keeps reading getting more and more interested, he’s actually smiling quite a bit when the Main Character gets adopted into the group as the youngest sibling but when he finally reaches the end of the book and finds out that the Main Character leaves with the two characters that he finds annoying

God, you practically see the despair in his eyes…

His hopes perk up a little when he reads that the group arrives to save the Main Character and the two annoying ones (his words, not mine) from an enemy as he thinks that the leader of the group might take the MC back telling the two of them to get lost

But instead, the MC sails off into the distance and Whitebeard is left staring at the final sentence of the book alongside the illustration of the leader of the group looking off into the sunset

He can’t stand the idea of this and when he finds out this is a series of books, he remains somewhat hopeful that maybe the MC will go back to the group to be part of their family again so he asks Marco to buy the other books in the series when they reach a new island

Marco does of course and gives them to Whitebeard so now anytime that he’s bored or getting a medical appointment, he picks up one of the books and starts reading in hopes that what he wants will happen but alas… No such thing happens…

Throughout the books, there is brief mention of the group but they never appear again as maybe that book didn’t do too well with the audience that primarily reads your books or you just didn’t wanna include them again

The MC never goes back to the group, it’s enough to make this poor old man’s heartbreak and when he sees who the MC wound up with in the end it’s just about enough to make him want to get rid of these books

He almost does too like he was this close to ripping them up but instead he sees one last thing that makes him stop, he looks at the back of the book and sees your picture thanking your readers for the support along with telling them that you’re going to move onto other things but he doesn’t care much for that as he keeps staring at the picture

Is it just him or do you look just like how he envisioned the Main Character to look?

And now that he really thinks about it too… Is it just him or did the group seem eerily similar to the Whitebeard Pirates?

I mean the right hand man is a bird and the group leader is described as being as big as a whale plus a gun slinging cross dresser, a cook with a pompadour, and a narcoleptic with fire powers? There’s no way

He goes back and reads the book that introduced to the series and he sees even more similarities however whether they’re actually there or not is up to you but lord knows that it’s unintentional if it’s true

With this, Whitebeard basically has a lightbulb go off in his head as it’s clear to him now that you’re the youngest member of their family and he needs to go find you as clearly you’re in an unhappy relationship and just want to come home to Pops and your brothers

Well don’t worry as Pops is coming and he’s bringing the family who with some brief convincing have wound up just as deluded as Whitebeard is as they all really think that you’re some kind of lost member of their family

It’s gonna take a while to find you like I’d give it about a week at the least but a month at the most, he’s coming for you and it’s not like anyone can stop him as no matter what island you’re living on and no matter who it belongs to, he’s still coming

When he finds where you are, prepare to be almost immediately hauled off back to the ship with your screams and thrashes being shushes like you’re some kind of child throwing a temper tantrum

“We’re here to help you, stop thrashing!!” “Don’t you recognize us, *MC’s Name*?! We’re your family!!” “Quit screaming already, we’re taking you home!!”

Literally no matter what you do, there’s no chance once they’ve found you as you’ll be hauled back to the ship like you’re some kind of treasure then once they’re done on the island they’ll be sailing out into open waters so even if there was a chance now there’s -10000% chance of escape

Chances are that a big party is going to be held on the ship in celebration of you finally being back with them even though you were never here in the first place, everyone’s having the time of their lives though and no one is listening when you try to ask to be set free

You attempt to jump overboard and swim to safety while no one looks but I’d like to see you try as you’ll likely be found before you can even get close to the edge and if you do make it then you’ll be pulled up within seconds

You’re going absolutely nowhere and the only thing that you can convince them of is to at least use your real name when they talk to you

Honestly as well, something in me says that you should prepare to be babied as you’re the youngest sibling and you can’t even fight plus they haven’t seen you in so long like Whitebeard claims you were like that big when he last saw you

Like imagine going from a life of independence and doing things on your own to never being left alone and having people do a lot for you like you aren’t even allowed near the stove as you might burn yourself according to Thatch

You should just let them take care of everything for you now, they’ll take good care of you and someday when they deem that you can get married then they’ll help you find a suitable person that they approve of and who treats you right

You’re allowed to do some things for yourself like bathroom stuff and getting changed but other than that, it’s honestly a wonder to you that they don’t also have you wearing footie pajamas with a pacifier in your mouth considering the way that they treat you

Even if you attempt to bring up your problems with this to Pops and request to leave, Whitebeard will simply say that he’ll think about it but always he’ll get back to you under an hour and tell you no as you’re staying like this plus you’re not going anywhere

Why would you want to go anywhere anyways? They can give you everything that you’ve ever wanted or needed right here on the Moby Dick, you should be really grateful that they’re doing this for you as they found you and rescued you after all this time

I wouldn’t recommend trying to raise a big stink about wanting to leave either as it’ll likely just be seen as a temper tantrum by the Whitebeard Pirates which will just get you an early nap time like imagine being scooped up in this man’s hand and forced to take a long nap on his chest because clearly you’re fussy from sleepiness

Now you might think that you have a chance of getting away when you hear that Whitebeard dies and the Whitebeard Pirates get scattered by Blackbeard like you definitely feel sympathy for them but this could also be your chance at freedom

Yeah, no sorry… Marco is definitely not letting you go ever after what happened like you’re on such a short leash that it’s practically non-existent like hell, I can see him legitimately child leashing you in public…

Also dating and getting married someday is completely out the window now like if someone takes even the slightest interest in you, Marco is going to scare them off so there’s no chance for you to ever escape

Your fate was sealed the exact moment that Whitebeard picked up one of your books, you’re his youngest child and you’re not leaving your family ever even when he’s gone…

The family will be together forever even if they have to put you on a child leash…

[0nelittlebirdtoldme]

German "Dracula" Play Review 🩸🦇

The Premise/Plot

One incredibly crucial detail that has NOT been communicated in any way prior, is that it was an entirely Dracula-less play, taking immense creative liberty with the whole story. Dracula only "appears" through an audio track voice-over or by "speaking" through his victims, whom he possesses. This leads to the entire third act taking a completely different turn, since no direct confrontation between the Crew of Light and Dracula is possible. Jonathan remembers in a dream séquence that Dracula has bought three estates in England, and the group splits up, wanting to burn them all. Still, they don't find Dracula and figure out that he must still be aboard the stranded Demeter. His coffin, which they find there, is however empty - in a plot twist worthy of Moffat himself van Helsing realizes Dracula has never, not in Transylvania nor England, been a corporal being. Instead, he is more like an evil spirit or illness, possessing, contaminating, speaking and spreading through his subjects.

The Characters

Jonathan's role is reduced to a few short appearances, starting right at his escape from castle Dracula. The rest of the play he spends incredibly weakened and disturbed through the Brides and his "master", who on occasion pokes into his mind and speaks through him. Repeatedly he warns the others that "he" is coming and eventually begs Dracula to come inside him, like he has before. That's. alI have to say.

Dr. Mina Murray is an official doctor in Seward's asylum and his coworker. Renfield implies she and Jack may fancy each other. Mina also cares more about Lucy than Jonathan - whom she is neither engaged to, nor gets the chance to marry him. The play ends with her and Jonathan sacrificing themselves for the greater good. Since both had been possessed by Dracula at some point, they "carry" him and his disease inside themselves and in order to destroy him, they must end their own lives. They decide to burn themselves alive aboard the stranded wreck of the Demeter. Double suicide, yay.

Helsing is played by a woman using a wheelchair - inclusivity wise, this is honestly done really well. In the last scene, he reads the final chapter in Jonathan's diary, written by Mina's hand, possessed by Dracula, revealing that even death won't stop him and he (as a state of infection?) has already spread to countless other Londoners. Mina and Jonathan have therefore died in vain.

Lucy's story is honestly pretty book-accurate. We have it all, the suitor squad, the unexplained illness, the bloofer lady. Her part was my favorite.

Arthur Holmwood. Arthur's actor was a cutie patootie doing an excellent job. The image of him wailing, whimpering and crying over Lucy's corpse TWICE? Absolute fanservice imo

Quincy Morris kept slipping in and out a HEAVY American accent and just randomly dropping English words left and right at whim, like "gun". Please keep in mind that it was an all German play otherwise. Still, I am glad he was there, even if it was in the form of a traumatized war veteran who lost all of his charm he once had by doing that silly voice.

Jack Seward. He was there, I guess.

Renfield was incredible. His actor deserves an Oscar, honestly. The way he bounced back and forth between wild mania, obsession and tortured soul in the blink of an eye? He always appeared with a crew of other people right behind him, almost like glued onto him or like living, writhing shadows, tugging at his shoulders, his hands, whispering into his ear, screaming at him, talking to him, for him. The idea of him hearing voices like that, constantly, is terrifying on its own but when they all suddenly speak in unison in Dracula’s voice? Goosebumps.

All in all

What can I say, it's not a "Dracula" play at all, and that should have been made clear from the start. I don't mind creative liberty but I know for a fact that people who were not familiar with the original were COMPLETELY lost at times. It's a "Crew of Light" Play, if anything. With a very... Dissatisfying ending. The metaphors are all over the place. Is Dracula a mental illness? An STI? A ghost ? A plague? Either way, there were FOUR instances of characters shouting "He's coming! He's coming!" and yet he didn't come. Ultimate edging both for the viewers as for the characters, I guess.

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Galileo Galilei Main Story

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. This is just a rough translation. Not proofread.

Mitsuki: "Is this a Blanc flower!?"

My eyes were glued to the picture of the flower in the book.

(It looks similar. It's the same as the flower I saw in that garden.)

Comte: "You won't find them at normal flower shops, and they don't bloom in places where people can easily see them."

Comte: "Only vampires know about the existence of this flower."

(Only vampires?)

Mitsuki: "So this flower is incredibly rare, huh?"

Comte: "Yes. In fact, some vampires secretly cultivate them."

Comte: "Although it's just a substitute, for us vampires, the Blanc is the only thing that can serve as nourishment."

Mitsuki: "So, do you have these flowers somewhere too?"

Comte playfully smiled and put his index finger to his lips.

Comte: "Who knows? Maybe?"

After finishing work, I headed to the mansion's garden, where the flowers that Sebastian and I were tending were swaying lazily in the breeze.

(I wonder if the flowers in the garden where Professor Maury was were Blancs. Or just similar?)

(If it really is Blanc, given its rarity, that would mean it's intentionally being cultivated.)

(A flower known only to vampires...)

As I pondered, the words we exchanged came back to me.

------------Flashback-----------

Maury: "You said the other day that stopping by that garden was just a coincidence." Maury: "I ask again. Is that true?"

(Was he checking to see if it was a coincidence that I went to the garden because those flowers were blancs?)

(Also...)

Maury: “What’s the point if I don’t stop the bleeding? Or are you going to leave it dripping everywhere?” Maury: “It’s annoying to have the smell lingering around.”

---------Flashback Ends--------

(Can you even smell blood from an injury of that size?)

I started noticing trivial things and began connecting the dots.

(Is Professor Maury a vampire?)

(Maybe Drake, who lives with him, is also the same. Or maybe I'm overthinking it.)

(They say that some vampires live among humans.)

(Even if they are both vampires, it's not my place to interfere.)

As possibilities raced through my mind, I suddenly remembered the red flowers blooming in the garden.

(That reminds me... ever since I visited that garden, I started dreaming about being a dhampir.)

The moment I saw the deep crimson flowers, I suddenly felt dizzy.

(If that was the trigger, then is there any connection between the garden and my dreams?)

Several days have passed since I started questioning things.

(I couldn't help but be curious, so I came here.)

Wanting to confirm if the Blanc flowers are related to my dreams, I visited Professor Maury and Drake's house once again.

Nobody answered the front door, so I circled to the inner garden and was greeted by the same gorgeous, pure white flowers.

Mitsuki: "Hello, Professor Maury? Drake, are you guys here?"

Getting no response, I crouched down and stared at the flowers.

(They're just like the ones in the book. These are indeed Blanc flowers.)

Despite my hesitation, I continued toward the back of the garden, where the red flowers were densely clustered.

(Comte told me the flowers are white, but why are the petals red only in this area?)

(It's as if they've absorbed blood.)

I pictured the image of Professor Maury with empty eyes, eating the red flowers.

Then, at that moment,

Maury: "What are you doing here?"

Mitsuki: "!"

I turned around at the cold, sharp voice and saw Professor Maury.

Mitsuki: "I'm sorry, I went to the front door a moment ago, but..."

Maury: "Answer the question. Why are you here again?"

Mitsuki: "Because I wanted to see these flowers."

Maury: "Why?

(Why?)

Faced with these questions, I hesitantly decided to speak up.

Mitsuki: "I've been having strange dreams."

Maury: "Dreams?"

Mitsuki: "Since I came to this garden, I've been having nightmares."

Mitsuki: "I thought there might be some connection, so I came to check."

Maury: "You think your nightmares are because of these flowers?"

Mitsuki: "I think it's possible."

Maury: "On what basis?"

Mitsuki: "It's merely a small similarity, but..."

(The dreams and the Blanc flowers are both related to vampires.)

Maury: "So you have an idea based on something, even if it's uncertain."

I shrank before him as his frown deepened.

Maury: "I'd like to say it's just a coincidence, but I'm more interested in the coincidences that happen to you."

Mitsuki: "Eh?"

Maury: "Tell me about the dream you had."

He frowned when he saw that I was surprised.

Maury: "What's wrong? Are you lying about the dreams?"

Mitsuki: "No, I'm not lying. It's just that… It's not a very pleasant dream."

I proceeded to tell him about the dreams I'd had so far.

How I became a being called a dhampir, how I was targeted by humans and vampires, and how I eventually lost my life.

Maury: "........."

After I finished speaking, he fell silent.

His expression revealed nothing about what he might be thinking.

(He's a scholar, so he might think it's absurd.)

Mitsuki: "I'm sorry for rambling on. Maybe I was overthinking about connecting dreams and reality."

Mitsuki: "It's just 'a dream' after all, right?"

As I said this, he gazed at me.

Maury: "Do you think it's just a dream?"

(What does he mean?)

I recalled the details of the dream, and my chest tightened again.

Mitsuki: "I want it to be just a dream."

Mitsuki: "Because if those were real, it would be too sad."

Mitsuki: "I couldn't do anything in my dream, but if something like that happened right in front of me, I would help the dhampirs and their families."

Maury: "Help them?"

For some reason, his voice becomes even lower.

(Professor Maury?)

Maury: "Do you think you can save those Dhampirs?"

Maury: "Do you think you can save them from persecution and their eventual disappearance with your own hands?"

The atmosphere around him now clearly carried a sense of frustration.

Facing this, I was bewildered.

Mitsuki: "Regardless of who they are, if someone is suffering, I want to help them."

Mitsuki: "I won't abandon them."

Mitsuki: "Have you never wanted to help someone?"

Maury: "........."

(You were the one who called it foolish when the puppy was being bullied.)

(Even if it was out of obligation, you still treated my injury. I'm pretty sure you still care about people.)

He lowered his gaze slightly.

Maury: "What can you even do?"

Mitsuki: "Huh?"

The moment he said those words, he tightly grasped my wrist.

Mitsuki: "Professor Maury!?"

Maury: "Come with me. So you can see how shallow your words are."

Feeling his cold hand like a shackle, I was half-dragged and taken deeper into the building.

After a while, we arrived at a place where there was...

Mitsuki: "Is this...?"

(A door that transcends time and space!?)

Although the atmosphere was slightly different, its structure closely resembled the one in the mansion.

(But there's no way it's the same.)

Maury: "You should know well what this door is."

(---!)

His words seemed to affirm that this was indeed the same type of door found in the mansion and the ancient castle.

Mitsuki: "What are you talking about?"

Maury: "There's probably one in the mansion where you live as well."

(How does he know about the mansion?)

(Does he also know that the residents are vampires?)

(Just who is this guy?)

He is a university professor who can be somewhat intimidating but reasonable. And for some reason, he occasionally seems to exude a sense of sorrow.

As if the impressions I had held about him until now were being painted over in black, I found myself unable to understand the person before me.

Still in shock, he reached for the door.

Mitsuki: "Wait! Are you planning to go through it!?"

Maury: "That's right."

Without waiting for my response, he opened the door.

The space beyond it was distorted, like the one in the mansion, but...

(Huh!?)

The moment he stepped through, the mist cleared, revealing a hallway.

Mitsuki: "Why?"

Maury: "If you don't want to be thrown into an unfamiliar place, don't let go of my hand."

Why was there a door? Why did the space suddenly stabilize?

Without understanding any of it, Professor Maury and I arrived at...

Mitsuki: "A forest?"

(But somehow, this place feels familiar.)

Girl: *pant, pant, pant*

Father: "This way, let's run this way!"

At that moment, my eyes widened after seeing the figures coming out of the forest.

(Those two!)

A man was desperately running, with a girl following him behind.

The man was no doubt the "father" I had seen in my first dream.

And the girl was “me.”

(I was that girl in the dream.)

(Why am I seeing the same scene as in the dream?)

(Wait. If it’s the same as in my dream, then the vampire hunters...)

I felt a chill run down my spine as I remembered the scene ahead.

Mitsuki: “Professor Maury! That family, they’re being chased. We have to help them!”

Maury: “It’s futile.”

He said it coldly as I instinctively tried to rush out.

Mitsuki: “Why?”

Maury: “This is the past.”

Maury: “In other words, what happens now is a reality of the past. We can no longer change it.”

(Was that dream an actual event that occurred?)

Maury: “Besides, trying to help won’t change the fate of the dhampirs.”

Did he also know the tragedy that would unfold later?

Despite this, his indifferent attitude infuriated me.

Mitsuki: “We won’t know unless we try!”

Mitsuki: “No matter what happens, I will never abandon them!”

I left Professor Maury behind and dashed away.

Maury: “You’re truly naïve.”

Father: “Let’s hide in this cabin!”

Mitsuki: “Wait! It’s not safe in there!”

I stopped them from hiding in the old hut, but the father looked at me with surprise, fear, and confusion.

Father: "Who are you!? Are you also a hunter!?"

Mitsuki: "No, I'm not! Anyway, if you hide there, the pursuers will find you!"

Mitsuki: "Run in a different direction. Please trust me."

Girl: "Papa."

Father: "Okay. We'll run into the forest."

Feeling my desperation, the father and daughter didn't enter the shack but fled deep into the forest.

(Thank goodness. I need to leave here as soon as possible.)

(Any minute now, the hunters will stop by the cabin. At that time, I'm sure those two have already escaped.)

Just as I let out a sigh of relief...

Vampire hunter's voice: "Found you, you monsters!"

(What!?)

From the direction the family fled, I heard the voice of what seemed to be a hunter.

(The hunters were ahead of them? How?)

Girl's voice: "Papa! Ahh!"

Vampire hunter's voice: "You creatures should not exist in this world."

All the blood drained from my body as I heard the same conversation I had seen in my dreams.

Then...

Father’s voice: "Stop, please don't kill my daughter. Stop, please!!"

A scream resonated through the forest.

(No way.)

I didn't want to think about what happened to the family.

Maury: "You understand now, right?"

Maury: "Your sense of justice is powerless against fate."

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