#Mock SHU

[is-today-tomorrow-in-nz]

Warning: this is going to be a rant!!!

What in the living hell did I just read? What is wrong with her? My God, I cannot believe she said that! On principle, I try not swear but god this is infuriating!!!

Were the Grisha born as soldiers? No. They became soldiers because a bunch of people thought they were unnatural and propogated hate. They made it into their mission to decimate them because they feared their powers. And when that was not successful, they kidnapped them and turn them into drug addicted robots.

Let's analyse this SoC conversation

Nina is trying to make a man see that the country he is loyal to is a bigoted bunch who are actively committing genocide. Does Matthias see it? No. It is not true because he never did it. She literally saw her fellow Grisha get burnt at the stake. How much of a sociopath you have to be to make this moment about yourself? Not all men much?

When I first read this, I thought maybe Matthias need a bit of growing up to do. But no, I see now that these are LBs words. Just like Mal she is putting a man's feeling over a woman because it's just genocide, Matthias did not do it, so what's the big deal? She should get over it. (And shamefully she does in the next chapter)

Next this masterpiece

Not meant to exist? A man kidnaps Grisha for a living is telling the person whose kind he is actively killing, that she is not meant to exist. So is this LB's justification also? The Grisha don't deserve to live because the are unnatural? Because their power is a result of their greed? Because they are soldiers who are using the power to attack innocent instead of defending them?

Just like tiger has it's claws and wolf has its jaws, the Grisha have their powers. By your own words the peace loving folks had to become soldiers because they are defending their right to exist. So the drusekelle who actively train, breed special horses and learn to track and hunt, all for the sake of capturing and killing them, must be understood and must be taught love. However if Grisha use their power to defend then they are just soldiers, ripe for picking.

How does the two things even equate????

And then this final punchline

The SS guy is telling Nina to not mock his belief. She didn't burn him or feed him drugs, she just mocked. But apparantly it is offensive to point out his hypocrisy but he has the right to kill based on his beliefs and the other party does not get to question his supreme god.

Excellent morals!!!

In the video LB calls the Grisha 'priviledged'. I really want to know what previledge the enjoy. Living in a palace because outside of those walls they'll be hunted? The bright uniforms they wear to protect them from bullets and knives? The priviledge of being taught several languages because they have serve as indentured labour in wealthy households? Or was she talking about the priviledge of how the Grisha in Ravka had to be brought up with the knowledge that they may very well end up in Shu labs or Fjerdan pyres during their service? Again what priviledge do they have?

The First Army's impoverished state are not the Grisha's fault. They are not flaunting their priviledge. Sorry that Aleksander's talent to turn an army offends you.

The First Army gets to retire, buy land and build a home, can any Grisha do that? So again what priviledge do they have?

The Grisha becoming soldiers and the drusekelle training to be soldiers are entirely different and it is offensive to equate them both.

Lady, accept your faults! You wrote about a minority who are actively being erased, you killed their leader and only protection and fucked up your story. You wrote a nazi/jew romance despite what you claim. The only priviledged person here is you!!!

Shame!!!

Ivans loss: "soldiers aren't human beings" & "all grisha are soldiers" is probably what the author thinks. I still remember when RoW came out and someone asked Leigh Bardugo a very heated question about Fjerdans and she gave a strange justification (link below). She replied, no to making the reference (let's just respect that answer and let's say Fjerdans arent' what the question said they are - and I don't even want to type it out because it's like kicking a beehive and no good will come from it) Let's focus the issue of grisha = soldier = fair game Leigh justifies Matthias and Fjerda's actions by saying: @ 1:23 "Grisha are soldiers. they are weapons. they are ppl who are fighting back" But....SoC had Matthias and Fjerdans going after non-soldiers. They were quite literally hunting civilians, farmers, etc. in all the lands. "Pursuing rogue Grisha in other lands...liberating Grisha captives with the sole purpose of clapping them back in chains and sending them back to fjerda for trial and execution..." next page captive speaking "We are not criminals...we are ordinary people - farmers, teachers. Not me Nina thought grimly. I'm a soldier. ...Did Leigh truly forget about the 15 innocent souls who were chained in the ship? 15 souls who were there just for being grisha? Does she not re-read her works at all????? x.com/hellcatdynes/status/1584699468536221697

That woman! (derogatory)

(Ivan post)

tw: I'm not gonna hold back in this reply as much as I usually manage. It might get vulgar and harsh.

I've seen this particular pile of shit while it was fresh and gods! I can't even begin to explain how sick it makes me. No wonder so many of her fans are a bunch of ignorant idiots.

Let's start with the icky bit- the whole quote:

... people have drawn parallels between Matthias and the drüskelle and the SS, and I don't think that's completely accurate. The Jews, who were put to their death in WWII were innocent. They were civillians! Their crime was being Jewish. Grisha are soldiers. They are weapons. They are people, who are fighting back, so though the drüskelle are hateful and carry a lot of prejudice with them, it is not the same as them going after innocent civillains. And I need to make that clear, because I would never write a Nazi/Jewish romance.

Honey, that's exactly what you did!

I won't shy away from that passage, because it pisses me off immensely.

... people have drawn parallels between Matthias and the drüskelle and the SS, and I don't think that's completely accurate.

So, here we go with this one- I'm entirely sure their uniforms and Brum's accomplishments have nothing in common with fucking Nazis. If you're colour-blind, or US-American, so you don't grow up with photos of that particular chunk of history in your fucking town, because those people in nice uniforms used to burn corpses of their victims just behind the walls. The crematorium is still standing btw. Daily visited by dozens of tourists.

Seriously- fuck respecting what she said! I possess reading comprehention! These atrocities happened around HERE! It's not just an ugly story for me! I grew up in town once used as Jewish ghetto, concentration camp and Gestapo prison, so yeah, I might be overly sensitive about how you choose to dress you genocidal murder club!

The Jews, who were put to their death in WWII were innocent. They were civillians! Their crime was being Jewish. Grisha are soldiers. They are weapons.

As you mentioned:

... The drüskelle had existed for hundreds of years, but under Brum’s leadership, their force had doubled in size and become infinitely more deadly. He had changed their training, developed new techniques for rooting out Grisha in Fjerda, infiltrated Ravka’s borders, and begun pursuing rogue Grisha in other lands, even hunting down slaving ships, “liberating” Grisha captives with the sole purpose of clapping them back in chains and sending them to Fjerda for trial and execution. ...

Six of Crows- Chapter 14

If I wanted to be extremely kind, I could assume this is just Ravkan propaganda- it's what Nina had been taught-, but later we see her experience:

“You’ll be tried for espionage and crimes against the people.” “We are not criminals,” said a Fabrikator in halting Fjerdan from his place on the floor. He’d been there the longest and was too weak to rise. “We are ordinary people—farmers, teachers.” Not me, Nina thought grimly. I’m a soldier. “You’ll have a trial,” said the drüskelle. “You’ll be treated more fairly than your kind deserve.”

Six of Crows- Chapter 14

The wording's rather obvious- it's not about herding up enemy soldiers, but hunting down another species, another race, another kind. That's exactly the type of reasoning Nazis used- Jews were something different, inferior. Dehumanisation is a significant part of their ideology.

*takes several deep breaths, because that Cola I've just drank is about to make a re-appearance*

I'll point out another part- already in one of the links in this post, but:

Until a drüskelle had accomplished a mission on his own and been granted officer status, he was required to remain clean-shaven. ... “Good work is right,” one said in Fjerdan. “Fifteen Grisha to deliver to the Ice Court!” “If this doesn’t earn us our teeth—” “You know it will.” “Good, I’m sick of shaving every morning.” “I’m going to grow a beard down to my navel.”

Six of Crows- Chapter 14

Capturing people to have them slaughtered is a rite of passage for drüskelle. It's an accomplishment worth marking. Something to look forward to and boast about.

Grisha are soldiers. They are weapons.

What about non-combatant members of Second Army? Healers, "untrained" Materialki, Grisha working for nobles? Those are weapons too?!

Like- we've already established nobody cares about the free-range Grisha (unless it's drüskelle in need of promotion), but even Second Army includes those, who aren't the first line of defence! Who won't be used to be attacked.

They are people, who are fighting back, so though the drüskelle are hateful and carry a lot of prejudice with them, it is not the same as them going after innocent civillains.

I'll make it even more obvious- would you say rape doesn't count as such, when its victim learnt self-defense before it happened?!

Nice opinion, Leigh! Great message for the poor young vulnerable girls! Very empowering!

And this is one of those days I'm sorry they don't organize full-experience trips to places like my ex-hometown, because I'd gladly invite that woman, so I can accompany her visit with loud reading of specific quotes from her work.

[heian-era-housewife]

Sex, Smut, & Scuttlebutt

Lately I've seen a growing number of virgins, "new-cummers", and even seasoned sex vets voicing their concerns or frustrations with the unrealistic portrayal of sex within smut. Adult fictions are so fun to read and write and even more fun to act out in real life (with a trusted partner), but they are fiction. Quite often exaggeratedly so and in no way representative of what really goes on behind closed doors, or open (you do you babes).

Nevertheless these concerns and frustrations are real, they are valid, and they deserve to be acknowledged. And so, without further ado, I present to you the very real, very raw, and sometimes very unsexy side of sex.

(Though tbh nothing Ryomen Sukuna does could ever be categorized as 'unsexy')

Love to you all, no matter your experience 😘

Pairings | Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Choso, Higuruma, Toji, and of course Sukuna 💕

Content | mdni, smut, fem!reader x jjk men, piv, oral (both f-to-m and vice versa), pubes, blood, sex on period, first time, Toji eats a worm. It's fine. Don't worry about it.

Word Count | 3.3k

Gojo:

White Hair...Everywhere

You've been ignoring it for a while now. Well...trying to anyway. The faint tickle on the back of your tongue has grown into a sharp pinprick that jabs at your throat with each bob of your head. It's uncomfortable, it's distracting, and worst of all it is threatening to trigger your gag reflex.

Gojo gasps and whimpers, long fingers running through your hair, pulling you toward him as he edges closer to his climax. It's all you can do to focus on the task at hand when his sudden thrusts render the job impossible. You gag and sputter against the source of your irritation, eyes streaming as you pull away from his hungry cock. 

Confusion and poorly concealed dissapointment in his words of longing barely register as you wretch, two of your own fingers stuffed to the back of your throat. 

You turn to meet his eyes with yours still streaming as you reveal the cause for disruption. With your middle and index finger you pull a long, coiled, pure white hair from deep within your throat. 

"I think this belongs to you," you tease, wiping drool from your chin and flicking the stray pube his direction.

"Oof. My bad," he squirms, one hand sheepishly rubbing against his undercut. 

"Shall we resume?" You offer with a playful smile, making a show of patting away his snowy bristles before taking his twitching length back into your mouth.

"Phewww!" He whistled. "I thought for a second sexy time was over!"

"It wiw be ith you don' shu-up," you mocked, mouth full and voice muffled. You reached a hand around to give one of his ass cheeks an impish squeaze for good measure. Gojo laughed playfully before falling back into a steady rythm of whines and whimpers.

Geto:

Welcome to the Jungle

Unwaivering confidence was one of the things you loved so much about Suguru Geto. On a scale of 1-10 his sex appeal was an 11 and you were about to find out for yourself exactly why he was so damn self-assured.

You, on the other hand, couldn't help but obsess over all your flaws and imperfections. Your outfits, those stretch marks, and was that =sniff, sniff= body odor?? 

But this was not the time to get lost in insecurity because you were perched pretty as a peach on his apartment sofa while Suguru stood, hastening to undo his belt, never once relinquishing that calm and cocky smile.

You gazed at him loftily, cheeks growing flushed, heart pounding in your ears. Your groin ached with longing as he stripped down to plain black boxer briefs and reached forward to help you down to bra and panties. Nerves and excitement churned in your core creating a volitile compound that set your heart ablaze. It was all too good to be real.

Finally, he guided your hands toward his own hips, placing them on the hem of his boxers, inviting you to remove his final garment.

Your brain buzzed with electric anticipation as you pulled downward, revealing that which, until this moment, you had only imagined. 

And there it was. 

And there you were.

Your buzzing brain cutting to standby as static filled your senses and every decision you'd ever made leading to this exact point in time sent you into a hurling spiral of doubt and regret.

Because Geto had shaved.

And you had not. 

Not now...not ever. Frankly, it hadn't even occured to you before. 

Insecurities came flooding in causing you to lose yourself entirely until the gentle touch of his strong hand on your pantyline dragged you forcefully back to your grim reality.

"NO!" You shrieked, pulling frantically from his reach. 

"Oh! Have I hurt you?" He asked with concern as you wished with every fibre of your being for a quick and painless death. 

"It's just...you're so pretty," you breathed, lip almost trembling as you spoke.

"I'm glad you think so," he said, cocky little smile returning to his perfect playboy face.

"And I'm...well..." you slipped off your own panties awkwardly, revealing a lush and uncut jungle, knowing you were already past the point of no return.

"You're.....?" Suguru prompted.

"I'm...you know...this!" You gestured to your unkempt garden.

"You're...female?" He finished, confused.

"NO!" He was missing the point. "I'm a gross unshaven mess! And you're...what? The centerfold of next month's Playgirl?"

Geto laughed, much louder than you expected, snorting as he did so. "That's what you're worried about??"

"That and a million other things...yeah!" You sulked, tears brimming your lashes as you slumped, defeated against the sofa.

"Come here," he said, pulling you close, forgetting entirely about his unclothed state. "I think you're sexy just the way you are. And, if I'm being honest, shaving is a real pain in the ass anyway."

Giggling to yourself, you watched as his impressive length grew soft and diminished as his arousal shifted to concern for you. 

"Hey!" He objected, throwing a pillow over his lap. "He was just worried about you, give him a minute," he teased.

Both of you laughed as you snuggled on the couch together, sharing doubts and insecurities, reassuring one another, and settling in for a long night. One full of love making that was sure to be genuine, sometimes awkward, but far better than any magazine.

Nanami:

Corporate Cock Block

Nanami was pent up. Not only had he been called on a particularly large number of missions this week, he'd been forced into overtime nearly every day. Now that he was home, he was desperately looking forward to nothing more than dissolving in your arms and seeing where the night might take you both.

Needless to say, he was more than thrilled when you suggested skipping dinner and going straight for dessert. That's right. You were pretty pent up yourself. And who was he to deny his pretty and incredibly patient wife what she needed?

"Thank you-hah-for being so-mhh-understanding this-hahhh-week", he breathed through passionate kisses, slipping off his suspenders and tossing his goggles to the side.

Movements punctuated by more steamy kisses, you helped him take off his tie and belt while he worked his fingers up and under your shirt to skillfully unsnap your bra.

He backed you down the hall and together you fell onto the bed, both panting in excitement as clothing fell hastily to the floor.

Just then, the phone rang. His phone. Illuminated harshly against the evening's fading light revealing none other than Satoru Gojo as the caller. Nanami went rigid.

"Hun," you said softly, "it's okay if you need to-"

"No." He asserted, cutting you off. "He's had enough of my time. I'm off the clock and I'm spending this evening with my wife."

The seriousness in his tone was all you needed to know it was case closed, so as he let it go to voicemail, the two of you resumed your game of lips and hands.

Time passed, Nanami was absolutely aching for you, and you were practically trembling in anticipation. As he lined himself up, you closed your eyes ready to melt at the feeling of him entering your throbbing core. And that's when it happened. Again. The name "Satoru Gojo" shone through the darkness as Nanami's phone lit up your room.

"I'm going to kill him," Nanami said calmly, head hanging in frustration as he imagined all the ways he could cleave his obnoxious coworker in a perfect 7:3 ratio.

"Kento..." you whispered, bringing him back to reality. "I really don't mind if you need to-"

"Absolutely not! This is our time. You and me."

"But what if he needs-"

"There is nothing he could need from me that is more important than what's right in front of me," voice dripping with sincerity.

"I love you, Ken."

"I love you too. Truly," he replied. "Shall we?"

Picking up where you left off, he gave himself a few quick strokes before plunging deep into your core. Tension and relief unraveling as he worked his strong hips passionately between your shaking legs.

***

As the love making continued, a new tension was building within both of you and Nanami could feel himself reaching his climax, breaths coming sharp and shallow as he felt his nearing release.

"Im so close," He breathed.

"Me too, baby," you gasped.

And then...

=RINGGGGGG=

Nanami cracked.

Snapping up his phone while pounding the ever-loving life out of you, you heard his voice loud and hostile as he snarled into the speaker.

"Satoru Gojo, so help me God I have half a mind to cut you down where you stand. Do you know how long I've waited to FUCK my WIFE?! How many nights this week I had to give up SEX with HER just to follow your sorry ass around chasing curses and cleaning up the FILTH of this city?! I was about to give her one SPECIAL GRADE, MIND-BLOWING ORGASM before you-" he stopped thrusting, blood draining from his face, feral sneer dropping into a hollowed out look of utter humilation.

"Principal Yaga I- of course, sir, I'm so sorry...Yes..yes..right away. I understand. Again, I'm so- no of course not. I appreciate your discretion...I'll see you soon...bye."

Your eyes widened in horror as you listened to his conversation, unsure which end was worse.

"I..uh...I have to go. I'm needed at the school," he muttered sheepishly, unable to meet your shocked gaze.

"Yeah, I gathered that," you said with a nervous laugh.

You helped him get dressed, giving him a tight hug and wiping the beading sweat off his brow as he stumbled back out the door.

"Kento!" You called as he headed in the direction of the school. He turned to look at you, defeat written in his tired features. "Come home safe, okay?"

"Of course, love," he rasped, weakly.

"You still owe me that 'special grade, mind-blowing orgasm'," you teased with a wink.

Shaking his head, you heard him laugh as he hurried toward his next mission.

Higuruma:

Erection Overruled!

Hiromi's long week has finally drawn to an end and as your tired and more-than-likely dishevelled man makes his way home to slump into his favorite chair and fall asleep, you want to make sure he gets to finish the week out properly. You've spent the afternoon hard at work yourself, cleaning up, picking just the right music, and slinking in to that silky little black robe you know he loves slipping you out of.

The mood is set, candles are lit, and as if on cue Higuruma stumbles in through the front door, dropping his briefcase, and sagging languidly into his favorite chair. You approach from behind, running fingers through his dark and unkempt hair, tipping his head back with a provocative "Welcome home," allowing him to savor the view.

Experience tells him there's not a thing beneath that robe and his eyes grow wide and hungry as he scrambles to his knees, facing backward in his chair to take you in. He burries his nose against you as he presses passionate kisses to your collarbones, moving to nip at your neck, trailing his tongue upward and landing just below your earlobe before whispering , "I've waited all week for this."

One very steamy makeout session later, you find yourselves in the bedroom, working quickly to remove each other's clothing, air thick with ravenous longing. But as you slip him out of his trousers taking his not even half-hard cock into your loving hands, things start to feel a bit off.

Nothing a few good strokes can't fix, you think to yourself, stealing a downward glance at his would-be errection-  flaccid, but hopeful.

~

Some time later there's still little change in terms of rigidity and you notice the exhaustion building behind his determined features. Knowing his pride is at stake, you start to wonder if it might just be best to let your tired man rest and resume love making another time. Opting for a mix of tact and humor, you make the judgement call.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the court, I move to postpone today's proceedings until the defendant can get some well-deserved and very much needed rest."

Hiromi's eyes snap open. "Objection!" He barks automatically, surprising himself.

"Overruled!" You reply, tapping his tip once against his tummy as though holding a gavel. 

A moment of silence as you stare at each other seriosuly and then...

"PFFFTTT!" You both burst out laughing at the ridiculous scene. He pulls you in for more kisses and you lay together wiping tears from your eyes as the laughter continues. 

Turning on his side he offers, "Motion to reconvene tomorrow morning?"

"Motion granted!"

More laughter. A heavy sigh and then, "Thanks for understanding," he says.

"Impartiality is my job, afterall," you continue the act. 

Pulling your head to his chest he scruffles your hair until you fight him off, giggling. 

This isn't the first and probably won't be the last time your romantic pursuits as a couple are thwarted by exhaustion, but you know that with a little patience and a good night's sleep he'll be a different man come morning, when your courtship is back in session.

Choso:

Shark Week 

Choso's not just new to sex. He's new to life itself. Loving him brings you the unique opportunity of experiencing the world for the very first time through his eyes. 

The eldest of his brothers, he's already learned so much, but he still relies on you to guide him through his many firsts as both a lover and a mentor for all of life's unexpected moments- the good, the bad, and the painfully awkward. 

That is why, when you hear a sharp, panicked little gasp as he pulls out of you, dick still twitching from his orgasm just moments before, you suspect you are in for another brand new encounter.

"What's a'matter Cho?"

"Uhm..." He swallows hard, eyes trained downward. "It's...it's not there."

"What's not there?" You question, sitting up against your elbows trying to glimpse whatever it is he's staring at.

"The condom," He says weakly, mouth going dry. "It's just gone!"

"Ohh!" You reach a knowing hand between your legs. "It probably just came off inside me."

"Is that bad?!" He asks, voice thick with worry.

"Not necessarily. You can probably just pull it out if it's right there."

He slides two hesitant fingers over your entrance, feeling for the rubbery traitor that's caused him such distress. 

"Oh! I found it!" He sighs, relieved, pulling it gently from your core.

"See? Nothing to worry abou-"

"OH NO!" He cries, forcing you to sit up in alarm.

"What's wrong? Is it ripped?"

"You're bleeding! There's-" He looks as though he might pass out. "There's so much!"

"What?! I-" Realzation hits you as he holds up the stretched out condom, slick with glossy crimson. Feeling between your legs, you pull your hand away, stringy and viscous from a mix of blood and fresh arousal. 

"Oh Cho I'm sorry. I think I started my-"

"I can't believe I hurt you! I thought I was being gentle! Maybe it's my cursed technique?? No...that can't-" 

"Cho I-"

"I can fix it! Hang on let me just-"

"Choso!" He pauses his string of frantic babble to look at you. Deep lines etched across his troubled face. "Cho, I think I just started my period," You say, reaching your other hand to comfort your worried man.

"Oh. You mean 'shark week'?"

You laugh as he recalls the nickname you taught him for that notorious time of the month. "Yes hun, shark week."

"Was it...because of me?" He asks, eyes brimming with shame and guilt.

"No, my love!" You giggle at his innocence. "Just a coincidence. I'm sorry I scared you!"

A wave of relief washed over him as he clutched his chest, watching you get up and head toward the bathroom. 

"I thought maybe I broke you somehow..."

"I know, sweet boy," You called from the hall. "You did nothing wrong. But when I come back we're going to cuddle like there's no tomorrow!"

"That....sounds nice" he said with a sigh, collapsing backward on the bed, brain tired and foggy from the day's latest lesson. 

"Wait!" He called, suddenly excited. "Does this mean chocolate ice cream and movie night??"

"You really are a quick study!" You praise.

Running to grab the ice cream he calls, "I think I can get used to shark week!"

Toji:

Three's a Crowd

Toji is a lone wolf. An elusive rogue agent. He holds everyone at arm's distance, including you. That is...until recently, anyway.

What started as casual hookups in seedy bars and late-night love hotels, hell even the back of a cab once (actually maybe twice...you were rather drunk), has turned into pseudo dates and sober conversation. To be honest, you've fallen pretty hard for your man of mystery and the last thing you want to do is scare him off now. That's why, when he finally invites you to his place for the first time, you're determined not to blow it.

"It's not much, but it's home." He says, leading you through the front door of a shabby back-alley apartment. Despite his somewhat delinquent nature, his apartment is well-kept and the made-up bed you spot through an open door near the back looks far more inviting than the sleazy moth-eaten matresses and dive bar sofas where you've been spending your less-than-romantic moments.

Grabbing his hand, you practically drag him back there, excited to see where he lays his head at night, smell the cologne on his sheets. He stumbles behind, a goofy yet seductive grin stretching the scar on the corner of his lips that you're just dying to taste.

As you step into the darkened bedroom, a small sound grabs your attention. Atop the dresser something is breathing- sputtering. You pause, trying to get a look at the noise's source, realizing Toji must have a pet. Your heart skips as you imagine this macho miscreant returning home to a small, soft animal for whom he shares a rare bit of affection. Fucking adorable.

The creature, appearing only as a shapeless mound at first (is it a cat?) turns to look at you. And that's when you freeze. Because there in his room, peering at you through swollen, squinted eyes, frothy drool dribbling down its pudgy face, is a gigantic....worm???

"Toji!" You gasp, turning back to hide behind the muscular arm you're now grasping for dear life. "What the hell is that thing?!"

"Oh." He says curiously, "You can see it?"

"OF COURSE I CAN SEE IT, WHAT DO YOU MEAN?! THING'S FUCKIN' HUGE!"

"Heh," he chuckles, amused. "It won't hurt ya. C'mere."

Without even another glance at the demonic creature, Toji pushes you against the bed, bringing his large frame down over you, rutting his hips as he feasts hungrily on your neck. You want to lose yourself in the throes of his passion, you really do. But all you can think about is the thing on the dresser. Turning under the weight of Toji's advances to see if it's still there, you find yourself making direct eye contact with the hideous overgrown catarpillar.

You can't believe he's not distracted. Can't believe he hasn't said a single word about the little drooling monster. And as Toji makes quick work of undressing while he hovers over you, you find yourself unable to contain your inner thoughts.

"Toji...it's so...long!" You say, eyeing the thing warily.

"Mm...I know, Doll," he agrees.

"I mean like...it's gigantic!" You mewl covering your eyes in disgust.

"Hah...so I've heard," he admits, slipping off your panties from beneath your skirt.

"And it...I don't know...it looks hungry. Like...it's about to tear me apart..."

"If that's what you want, love," he growls with a forward thrust.

"Seriously, Toji, I don't know if I can do this! It's just so gross!"

"...Gross?" He looks like he's been punched in the gut.

"Yeah! Gross and purple!"

"Purple?!" Pulling out, he stares down at his cock. "Fuck you mean, purple?!" Then, following your gaze he says, "You're not still on about that damn worm, are you??"

"What did you think I was talking about?!"

"Look, if it bothers you that much, I'll get rid of it." Without another word, he gets up from the bed, crosses the room to the dresser, takes the creature in his hands before crunching it down into a tiny ball and swallowing it whole.

"Now are we gonna get freaky or what?" He huffs.

Oh, we are wayyyy past freaky, you think to yourself.

Who the hell was this mysterious man of yours? You're left with more questions than answers. But despite the horror you just witnessed one thing has you smiling...arm's distance or not, you doubt very seriously anything you do could scare him off.

Sukuna:

Thousand-Year-Old Virgin

Sukuna is a hardened, battle-ready, godlike being of prowess and prestige, decorated by time itself. Stranger to no man and no challenge, his many achievements transcend the millenia. He has seen and done things even those with rich and deeply fulfilled lives will never experience.

Let's face it, he's a thousand fucking years old. So that's why, when he mumbled something under his breath, something you thought could only be some type of strange joke, you were too stunned to laugh. And the fact that you didn't is the only reason you're still alive. That, and he's fallen rather profoundly in love with you, but he won't be admitting to that any time soon.

So when he pulls away from your lips to stare sheepishly at his bare feet criss-crossed in front of him before uttering the words you're sure you must have heard wrong, you ask him to please repeat himself.

"I've never done this before..." he gruffs, crossing both sets of arms and averting his gaze to the side with a nose-crinkling sneer.

"Done...what?" You ask, innocently.

"This! All of this!" He barks, waving his arms in frustration.

Your brain is working overtime just to read between the lines. He's acting like it's obvious, but you can't understand which "this" he's referring to.

"I don't get what-"

"SEX OKAY!" He gruffs bitterly. "I've never had sex!"

You just stare. Lips parted slightly as your jaw hangs limp, still unsure you've heard him correctly.

"And would you stop looking at me like that??" He scowls.

"'Kuna, I...I don't know what to say."

"Yeah, well...neither do I," he admits, still avoiding your gaze.

"It's just that you're...a thousand years old...I guess I just figured in that time you would have-"

"I didn't get to where I am by running around like some dog in heat," he retorts. "I spent my time getting stronger, strategizing, honing my cursed technique. Then I was sealed away for a few hundred years. When the hell would I have-"

"I never thought of it like that. But I figured Heian Era and all, the 'King of Curses' must have had concubines, right?"

"Yeah? So? I had a bunch of that old-timey shit!" He spouted. You had to stifle a laugh this time. "Doesn't mean I cared. I was...you know...a little busy conquerring the world?"

It was beginning to sink in. The King of Curses, God of the Heian Era, the Great Ryomen Sukuna sat on a shelf like a minted doll for a thousand years, completely untouched, and you- little modern nobody you- were about to take his "v-card". You felt giddy.

"'Kuna," You began, reaching out to take his face in your hands, compelling him to look at you. He hissed as you did so. "Ryomen. We don't have to do this."

"No, I want-"

"If you really want to, that's fine. Just know that it's going to be messy. Probably a little awkward. Maybe a lot awkward! Heck, I don't even know what to do about the extra set of limbs and...appendages," You laughed, giving his thigh a squeaze. He rolled his eyes. You continued earnestly, "I just want you to know it's okay not to know it all- not to get everything perfect. That's where the trust comes in...and where the memories are made."

He heaved a deep sigh, turning away again as he became lost in thought.

"Hey, Ryo?"

"What, brat?"

"Thanks for waiting for me," you wink.

"Don't flatter yourself," he grumps, a rougey glow tingeing his cheeks.

"Of course not," you smile. Then, eyeing his extra arms you continue. "So I just have one question..."

"Speak."

"Will we need one condom, or two?"

Thank you so much for reading! Likes and reblogs always appreciated, but never expected.

MDNI banner credit to @cafekitsune

Special thanks to @heian-era-househusband for always listening to my stories and for being my trusted partner 💕

[bubblespalace]

Headcannon: If The Sakamaki Brothers actually fell in love with you.

^⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠^ Includes: Shu, Reiji, Ayato, Kanato, Laito, Subaru, and all of them together (Because I love all of them and can't choose). ^⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠_⁠^

Shu Sakamaki 💛:

∆💛: Like all the brothers, he would hate he fall for someone who wasn't a vampire. He would try to deter himself from you, but he would fail.

∆💛 Converse-shoe would still be super lazy, but he would perk up a bit if you walked in.

∆💛 Would mock you even more. Calling you names and roasting you a lot, he would love your reaction.

∆💛 He would show off his violin skills and possibly play for you. He would try to make himself seem impressive.

∆💛 Shu would have a slight fear Reiji might attempt to take you from him since his younger brother has always wanted what he had. So he would be possessive around Reiji especially.

∆💛 He would sneak into your room and snake himself underneath you, so you were laying on top of him.

🎧You jolted up in shock when you realized the blonde vampire was underneath you. "Ahh! Shu-kun! What are you doing in here?!"

Shu smirked, his eyes still closed, and pulled you back down on top of him with one arm. "Shh... be quiet... you like this anyway... you lewd woman."🎧

Reiji Sakamaki 💙:

∆💙 Reiji would first try to tell himself it wasn't a crush, he would stay away from you. Whenever you visit his lab or study, he would turn you away. Until he came to terms he was in love with you.

∆💙 He would start giving you tasks, which you somehow completed perfectly, exactly the way he wanted. He would start being softer with you and less strict.

∆💙 He would take time to teach you about things, and he would be more patient with your trial and error. He finds it very admiring that you won't give up so easily when you don't get the information.

∆💙 You would become almost like his assistant, helping him with notes, and labeling formulas and mixtures.

∆💙 Rei-Rei would keep you away from Shu as much as possible, in fear that you would fall for him instead.

∆💙 Even when you make a mistake, he remains calm and very early goes off on you. It surprises you, since with anyone else he scolds until they start crying.

🧪The glass hit the ground with a shatter, you froze in fear. "Oh god, Reiji-kun... I'm so sorry, please don't be ma-"

"It's no problem." He said almost calmly. "Just clean it up. We shall get back to what we were doing after."🧪

Ayato Sakamaki ❤:

∆❤: This man would know right away he was falling for you, but he would be meaner to you to hide it.

∆❤: Eventually, he would try to impress you more. He would still be super mean, but he would do everything he could to make you notice him.

∆❤: He would invite you to his basketball games a lot, and he would hang out with you afterward. Which made the other girls give you an evil eye.

∆❤: However, he wouldn't lay up on you. Christmas Eve is the type to keep treatment the same. He'd still call you out by your breast-size, and drink your blood. (All the brothers might still drink your blood, but eh)

∆❤: Keeps you away from his brothers, particularly Kanato and Laito because he knows they can be the most dangerous. Only he's allowed to hurt you.

∆❤: If you were to ever do something nice for him without him having to ask, he would be stunned. You might even catch him blushing a bit.

🏀You walked up to Ayato with a kind smile on your face. "Hey, I made you some Takoyaki."

He paused for a good moment, almost in happy disbelief, before he regained his normal stature. "Good, Ore-sama was getting hungry anyway."🏀

Kanato Sakamaki: 💜

∆💜: He would be angry you made him fall for you, but after a few hours of angry screaming in his room, he calmed down and talked to Teddy about it.

∆💜: He would get you gifts, like dresses, babydoll shoes, and hair accessories. You would become his only, non-wax doll.

∆💜: In fact, Kana-na would never feel the want to turn you into a wax doll. You aren't like his past victims, he wants to watch you squirm forever.

∆💜: You would get princess treatment, except when he's angry. He would yell and scream at you, but he would very rarely hurt you when mad. He would hurt you more when he's happy, and he would praise you after for being so strong about it.

∆💜: He wouldn't just keep you away from his brothers, that's for sure, this man would keep you away from absolutely everyone. If someone so much as looked at you, he would slit their throat. You're his after all.

∆💜: The amount of tea parties you had in his room would be uncountable. Sometimes you talked, other times it was just comfortable silence.

🧸Kanato smiled at you, not the creepy off-kilter smile that made you feel hunted, but an actual, genuine smile. "What is it?" You asked sweetly.

Kanato kept staring at you. "It's nothing, my doll. Don't worry about it. You don't ever have to worry about anything."🧸

Laito Sakamaki 💚:

∆💚: He would have no idea what was happening to him. You weren't like the other girls he had been with, and it confused him. His heart rate quickened around you, heat rushed to his normally cold cheeks and he felt almost... nervous.

∆💚: Lai-Lai would probably end up asking Reiji what you were doing to him. Reiji would deadpan and explain.

∆💚: Laito was first in denial, because that's not what he thought love was, but Reiji carefully told him everything. After that, Laito made it his mission to get you to fall for him.

∆💚: He became the most romantic man on earth. Laito gifted you roses, chocolates, and anything else he could think of that you loved. Yet he was still shy around you sometimes and you caught him stuttering over his words a few times.

∆💚: Almost all sexual thoughts left his mind, (He still had a few, come on, this is Laito) all he was focused on was wooing you, and it stayed this way for a very long time.

∆💚: You would be very surprised by this change in him, and he would try to convince you nothing changed.

🎩Laito had snuck up behind you and put his arms over your shoulders. In his hands, was a beautifully arranged bouquet of roses. "Hi Bitch-chan." He purred with his Cheshire cat smile.

You giggled and took the bouquet from him, admiring the flowers. "What has gotten into you lately? What have you done with Laito, stranger?"🎩

Subaru Sakamaki 🤍:

∆🤍: He would break everything in his room in terror. He didn't want to fall in love, especially not with you. Subaru couldn't stand the thought of hurting you severely.

∆🤍: Toyota would avoid you like the plague, hoping he would fall out of love with you. Somehow you always found your way into his mind again...

∆🤍: He was crazy over you, he started admiring you from a distance, watching you as you did your homework in the living room. He was scared he would hurt you if he actually approached you. Soon, you noticed and confronted him.

∆🤍: After that, he spoke to you a little more often, but still kept his distance. Subaru also turned up his tsundere level from 100, to 10,000.

∆🤍: Would be secretly leaving white roses in your locker, and also doing little things to make you smile without you knowing it was him.

∆🤍: Tsunbaru might never confess to you, you might be the one to make the first move. He would be way too nervous to talk to you.

🗡Carefully you glanced at Subaru, making sure there was nothing he could mistake for anger or upset in your voice. "Subaru, did you leave this-"

His red eyes flashed to you in what you thought was disgust. "W-why would I leave you a rose?! Leave me alone, foolish mortal!"🗡

The Sakamaki's 💛💙❤💜💚🤍:

∆💛💙❤💜💚🤍: If they all fell for you, I wish you luck my friend. They will be competitive AF.

∆💛💙❤💜💚🤍: Expect their normal behaviors to either become more intense, or softer. It could go either way.

∆💛💙❤💜💚🤍: Reiji and Shu might try to battle it out for you since they will be each other's biggest threats. Ayato and Subaru might just fight too, since they don't get along well.

∆💛💙❤💜💚🤍: Kanato would end up dragging you into his doll room in the middle of the night. I can see him trying to brand you, burning his name onto your skin.

∆💛💙❤💜💚🤍: Laito would be relentless and would never leave you alone. You would have to fend him off 25 hours a day.

∆💛💙❤💜💚🤍: They all might just start fighting like little children, pulling you toward them like a rope in tug-a-war.

🎧🧪🏀🧸🎩🗡"Boys! I'm not a rag doll! Stop or you're gonna break my arms!" You shouted over Kanato's hysterical screams and Reiji and Shu's accusations toward each other.

Laito yanked you away, which released you from Reiji's and Shu's harsh grip on your wrists. "She's right, Bitch-Chan will choose me anyways, so why is it we must make a big fuss over this?"

"God, will you stop being such a pervert for one moment?!" Subaru yelled, looking as though he was about to punch something.

Sadly, your wrists only got that break before Reiji grasped onto the wrist Shu was holding onto and bit down into the sensitive flesh, making eye contact with him as his fangs made contact. "You fucking bastard," Shu growled and bit into the wrist Reiji had grasped before, possessively biting down hard enough for it to leave a mark that would last a long time. Soon, you had all the boys' fangs buried in your skin, gnawing on you like you were prey.

"I'm the best, right dolly?"

"Tch, don't be stupid, Y/N."

"You're smart, Y/N. You'll choose me."

"You lewd woman, choose the best choice."

"Ore-sama, obviously."

"Or your Laito-kun, Bitch-Chan."🎧🧪🏀🧸🎩🗡

[brewed-pangolin]

Ribbed for Her Pleasure

A/N: I can't recall who I saved this Soap photo from. If anyone knows, please tell me so I can give credit. 💛

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x Fem Reader

18+ MDNI Explicit Smut, P in V, filthy banter, car sex, slight exhibitionism

Thank y'all for being patient. Seems like the writers block has started to lift a bit, and I'm finally back to indulging myself in Soap filth. Enjoy a nice road trip that turns into an exciting sexcapade. @glitterypirateduck I decided to flip the script on this one. I can't say no to Soap being a menacing tease. @waves-against-a-cliff thank you for sending in my first 🛞⭕💢⭕💢🛞, hope you like it.

Love y'all. And happy Super Soap Sunday!

WC ~2k

4Runner Soap loves to tease while driving on extended road trips.

--

It's subtle at first. His warm hand resting on your thigh as you ramble on about nothing and everything under the sun.

He'll steal a few quick glances of your expression to attempt to gauge whether or not he's having the desired effect on you.

If you meet his steely gaze with equal growing intentions, he'll keep his hand resting on your thigh with a loving squeeze as his attention returns to the road ahead.

Yet if you show no reaction to his ministrations, continuing your verbal regurgitation of the weeks events, he'll have no choice but to press onward. His one hand gripped tightly around the steering wheel as the other moved further down ever closer between your thighs.

You feel his hand meandering ever closer to your clothed heat, but pay no mind to him. Only pointing out the next exit as you once more embellish his ears with mindless and unending banter.

Unperturbed by your unwillingness to give in, he sets forth in motion the one move, his last effort against your resolve to force you to finally surrender to him.

You didn't notice the subtle shift in the vehicles trajectory at first. Too focused on your phone and following the tiny icon as it moved along the highlighted route on the GPS.

It was only when you heard the rumbling hum of the tires over the ribbed outer lines of the lanes did you finally pull your eyes and pull your attention to him.

Before you could utter a singular protest, his hand moved the center of your thighs and pressed his index and middle finger into the inner seam of your jeans. Enhancing the continuous feel of the vibrations reverberating under the metal frame as they culminated into the growing throb emanating within your swelling folds.

"Johnny," you whimpered in feigning protest as his fingertips rubbed over the raised center of your trousers.

"What are you doing? Pay attention to the-"

"Shu' it, lass." Soap barked back with a playful bite rolling off his tongue.

"Rest tha' mouth a'yers fer a minute, yeah. Or I'm gonnae 'ave ta put ta better use."

Words failed you as his thick fingers continued to push into the flesh of your clothed cunt. Still riding the jagged lines on the pavement, making you roll your eyes back and bite your lip to quell the muffled moan threatening to escape within the depths of your throat.

"Ya like tha', bonnie? Ribbed fer yer pleasure by th'roadside?" He mocked with a confidence that never failed to make you quiver.

Feeling your arousal pool within in the depths of your soaking heat as his fingers pressed firmly against your swollen folds. Only managing to moan in response, which further fueled his resolve with a guttural growl, pulling his hands away from your growing pleasure and immediately shifting to take the next exit.

"Johnny, this isn't our exit."

"Nah. Emergency stop. Got a full stauner 'ere, and I cannae focus on nothin' else except tha' sweet pussy a'yers."

You turned to face him, eyes glancing down to focus on thr growing tent in his pants. The sounds of 4Runner's engine revving mirroring the sexual tension between the seats as Soap veered the vehicle into traffic, his eyes desperate and focused on finding a secluded passage for some much needed privacy.

-

It took no more than five minutes to find one that met his growing needs. A meandering dirt road that ended against an abandoned fence with a rusted and weather tempered 'No Trespassing' sign.

You barely had a moment to unbuckle your seat belt as he made his way to your side of the SUV. Inhuman speed fed by an unadulterated need to take you, unceremoniously throwing you over his shoulder with a huffing grunt. Only to be reciprocated by a piercing snicker, accepting your fate as he threw you into the flattened back of the cargo space and greedily began tearing your clothes away.

"Aren't you afraid we'll get caught?" Your pathetic attempt to reason with him only seemed to spur him further into a needy and unbridled rage.

"Fuck 'em. My need fer ya outweighs them bloody regulations." Soap spat back through gritted teeth.

Your exposed form laying out for him as he pulled his shirt over his head to reveal the chiseled frame that always seemed to render you speechless and begging for him.

Feeling the warmth of your arousal pool within your folds, spreading your legs to invite him in with a confident stare that mirrored his own hungry gaze.

"Steamin Jesus, look a'tha. Already fuckin soakin fer me, aren't ya, bonnie?"

"Always, Johnny. Nobody makes me wetter than you."

Soap's cerulean eyes swirled with glorious intent, flickering between your desperate expression and the glistening folds of encroaching conquest as he hastily unbuckled the confines of his trousers. Pushing the fabric of his pants and boxers down to release his throbbing length, a subtle whimper escaping his lips to the cool air hitting his hot flesh as a stream of precum ran down the tip of his reddened cock.

"Yer always so fuckin pretty like this, lass. Spread out an' jus' waitin fer me."

His jaw tightened to sight of your cunt clenched around nothingness in reaction to his sultry brogue. Splaying yourself out for him like a sacrificial lamb while the deafening sounds of echoing traffic echoed from deep within the trees and rolled around the walls of your private encampment.

"Gonnae fuck ya good, bonnie," he purred lowly with a rolling timbre. Ever so slowly moving like a predator as he encroached and hovered over your flushed and exposed form.

The maelstrom churning within the depths of his eyes luring you to his turbulent sea of ecstacy, nestling himself within the crevice of your thighs as he aligned his hardened cock to the puckering hole of your swollen cunt.

"Joh-" your muffled attempt to calm his name was silenced as his mouth sealed over your lips. Piercing the fluttering walls of your pussy in one fluid stroke, bottoming out with a resonating growl while his hands found purchase under the soft bend of your knees.

"Put yer knees on me shoulders, bonnie." He coaxed, pulling away from your lips to guide the shaky limbs of your legs over the broad expanse of his shoulders.

The sudden shift in position moving him slightly within your tight walls as the greedy flesh of your cunt clenched around his turgid length. Rolling your eyes back with a hissing breath, hands flying up above your head to find purchase within the haul of the vehicle as he laid his dense and muscular form on top of your folded and contorted frame.

"Tha's it, bonnie. Fuckin' clench around me. Lemme feel how much ya need me."

As the sounds of his rumbling voice reverberated within your ears, he glacially pulled his hips back. Nearly pulling out completely before penetrating once more and filling the silken depths of your heat in one fluid and languid thrust. 

Forcing a gravelly moan from within the cavern of your chest, fingers wrapping around the metal frame protruding from the haul as Soap braced his hands on either side of your head and steadily began to thrust himself deep into your greedy hole.

“Johnny- aren't ya gonna close- the hatch?” you groaned, gritting your teeth while he picked up his pace. Steadily pounding his hips against your ass, his lips curling into a cocky smile while his eyes glinted at his mischievous intent.

“Nah, bonnie. Gonnae give em- a good show-” he crooned in response with a breathy growl. Disregarding your concern for the outside world, continuing to pound his cock into your welcoming heat as the creaking sound of the suspension began to echo across the shell of your ears.

You attempted to lift your head and catch a glimpse of the tree laden environment around you, only to be forced back down as Soap changed trajectory once more. Your mouth falling open with a silently pleasured protest as the thick head of his cock ran over a sensitive bundle of nerves deep within your cunt that only he had managed to find.

“Holy fuck!” Your voice hollered over the sounds of the croaking suspension, finally giving into the unrelenting ecstasy only he could provide. Arching your back against the carpeted floor of the cargo space, desperate to meet his powerful thrusts and aid in his direction while he maintained a steady, vigorous pace.

“Found tha’ spot. Didnae I, bon? Gonnae make a mess on me cock? Scream me name as I fuck ya real good? Clenchin around me like-”

“Goddammit! Shut up!” 

His unending banter had finally pushed your quiet resolve to the wayside. Reaching your hand feverishly towards his neck, wrapping your fingers around the chain of his dangling dog tags to bring his running mouth down to your lips and ultimately rendering him blissfully silent. 

Sinking your teeth into the flesh of his bottom lip as you wrap your free arm around the back of his neck. Keeping his chest flushed against yours, a thin sheen of sweat forming between the sliding flesh and forcing only his hips to move as he pumped himself into the depths of your soaking heat.

The wet sounds of your pussy emanating off the plastic and fabric haul of his 4Runner, accompanied by the combined gasping breaths from your chests that formed into a blissfully erotic symphony. A duet only heightened by the most pornagraphic whimper you had ever heard against your mouth as his hips began to stutter and his eyes pleaded for his upcoming release.

“Steamin Jesus, bonnie. I’m gonnae come. Gonnae fill ya up.” Soap’s muffled words vibrated against the flesh of your mouth as your free hand gripped into the thick locks of his mohawk. 

Pulling his mouth away to bury his face into the crook of your neck. Letting your lips seal over the top of his shoulder and silence the strained bellow from within your chest as your orgasm suddenly erupted and coursed through your veins like a violent blaze.

Soap’s hot breath cascading against your flesh with a guttural growl, his hands gripping to the carpeted fabric as he bottomed out in one final thrust and emptied himself against the spongy walls of your pulsing cervix. Pulling his trembling body up to let your legs fall and extend, the burn of over exertion flowing underneath your skin as an all too familiar ache began to form within the buried tissue around your pelvis.

“Jesus Christ, Soap. Where the fuck did this come from?” Your voice hushed in the grips of blissful afterglow, hands meandering to his temples while his body steadily began to collapse above you.

“Donnae know, lass. Thinkin maybe, it was them bloody reflectors.”

Reluctantly, Soap began to pull himself off your overly exhausted frame, only to be pulled back down by your clawing hands and laid his head against your sweat ladened and heaving bare chest.

“Not yet, babe. Just rest a minute.” Speaking in a hushed tone, you pressed your lips against the drenched crest of his scalp. Tasting the saltiness against your tongue and allowing your hands to gently run down the curve of his spine as you felt him steadily give into body’s exhaustion. 

“If you don’t rest, Johnny, I’m gonna have to drive the rest of the way while you sleep this off.”

“Haud yer weesht, hen.” He retorted, his brogue quiet and muffled against the supple flesh of your breast. Your lips curling into a smooth smile as you reveled in the gentle sounds of nature accompanied by the everpresent hum of distant traffic.

4Runner Wingman Masterlist

@deadbranch @sofasoap @ohgeesoap @d3athtr4psworld @mini-metal @punishmepunisher @homicidal-slvt @glitterypirateduck @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world @ghosts-goldendoodle @shotmrmiller @mykneeshurt @astraluminaaa @writeforfandoms @tacticalanxiety @thetrashpossum @queen-ilmaree @sadstone-s @simpingoverquestionablemen @dustycrusty09 @foxface013 @haurasha @havoc973 @kkaaaagt @designateddeadend @luismickydees

[madammidnightsblog]

Diabolik Lovers Overstimulation

WARNING : overstimulation, mommy kink, dirty talking, blowjob, creampie, anal, library sex, cum, master kink, humiliation kink, mistress kink, blood kink, knife play, food play, toys, thigh riding, slightly foot humping, slight Exabition, wax play, table sex, couch sex, hair pulling, riding

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Ayato

He deeply hates being overstimulated for the very fact you get to tease him until he’s close to cumming only for you to pull away, making him cry and thrash around in a fit. Your hands stroking him quickly which has him shivering on the bed, hands practically ripping the silk sheet under him and with the way  your hands squeezing him with every pump has him moaning loud and bucking up into your hand, trying to fuck into the tight grip of your hand but failing. His emerald eyes staring up at the ceiling as tears spilled beautifully due to the intense pleasure you were giving him right after making him cum a second time, pulling him closer to his third orgasm. You look at his shaking form and laugh when remembering his cocky attitude he had before and now he is shaking from getting a handjob.

"What happened to that cocky attitude, hm?" You teased while rubbing your thumb over his leaking tip which made him gasp.

Doing his best, he sat up slowly and glared at you which only made you laugh more, "S..Shut up!" He barked, face growing red in embarrassment.

Your lips formed a faux pout in a mocking manner while your hand stilled, watching how he instantly started to whine and apologize because in reality, he loved it. He loved how your attention was on him and only him and making him cry just for your entertainment was something he wanted, knowing you love seeing him in that state and only him. His apologies were only falling on deaf ears. It seemed as if you just let your hand sit there limply and you just watched him try to form the words only to just sob. You were mean to him just a bit, knowing how cocky he is and always barking orders but you weren’t mean enough to keep him hanging so your hand started to move slowly and it was enough for him to hiccup a ‘thank you’. 

“That’s right, thank me, like the slut you should,” your free hand cupped his balls and massaged them which had him shivering, “Sluts like you thanks their Master for touching them.” Ayato wanted to tell you off so badly but he couldn’t form any words, only letting out moans and broken sobs as you pulled him closer to an orgasm that he knew he’d never get. 

Shu

"You're not doing it right... Like this Mistress." He spoke softly, guiding your head to help you suck him off the way he likes. 

Despite him wanting you to help you, he was slowly losing his mind from the sensitivity after having four orgasms prior and he was doing his best not to thrust into your mouth. Finally getting it, you slowly worked your tongue around his dick while pulling his hands away from your hair and entangled your fingers together, bobbing your head quickly which had him panting softly. His eyes closed and allowed you to take complete control and pleasuring him, he slowly pulled your left hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles, his tongue dancing along your skin before he pressed his lip against your hand once again and trailed wet kisses down to your wrist. The faint scent of your blood seduced him more and he couldn’t help but nip at the soft flesh, his dick throbbing against your tongue every time his fangs threaten to pierce your wrist and it made you take his dick further down your throat while your tongue teased the veins along his length. Shu wasn’t really this horny or sloppy no matter how aroused he was but today was different, the scent of your blood and the overstimulation seemed to trigger something in him and he couldn’t help the strong urge to sink his fangs into you and suck you dry and with his dick stuffed in your mouth, he had no choice but you cum. 

“Mistress… You smell ‘o good,” he moaned as his fangs finally pierced your skin, breaking the soft flesh as they push further until the metallic taste of your blood landed on his tongue, “And ‘o sweet.”

It didn’t take long for him to cum after that, his dick thrusted into your mouth slightly, soft squelching from your wet caven filled the quiet room as drool and his cum dripped from the corners of your mouth. 

Laito

His lips are pressed against your inner thighs as his dick was violently abused by a vibrating cock ring, doing its best to milk him through his first orgasm. His beautiful emerald eyes slowly looked up at you as he slowly pulled away, his body slightly shaking from the pleasure while he crawled on top of you before grinding down into your lap, your hands gripping his hips and forcing him to grind faster which made him purr. Your eyes stared into his eyes, they pooled with endless lust which enchanted you and his soft moans seemed to make your brain go blank and all you could think of was making him scream. Laito was loving the attention and overwhelming pleasure that ran up his spine, bringing him closer to forgetting everything and getting lost in the need to cum.

"Laito, Darling... You look sexy above me like this.." Your voice came out soft and lustful.

He started to move quicker, his hips dragging against your thigh as his second orgasm washes over him and pulling him closer to his third one as the cock ring's vibrations became too much, "Y.. You look beautiful, Mommy." He purrs in ecstasy.

You just smirked and rubbed circles into his skin which pulled out more purrs from the red head. Laito wasn't the type to care about his partner's pleasure and never put the effort to fake it but for you, he wanted to please you and knowing just him following your orders and cumming for you is the enough to make you feel good and he was making sure you'll enjoy every bit of it. His hips stuttered slightly with every drag against you, his eyes closing, and moans of your name slipped off his tongue so easily and you were sure he was going to cum once again.

Reiji

"It's not like you to cum from drinking my blood alone. It's so cute." You teased the tall male as he kneels only in just his boxers, your thigh pressed to his lips.

The big wet spot on his boxers grows bigger as he unattached fangs from your leg, licking the stray blood away while staring you in the eyes. His crimson eyes gleamed in the light and to make him look more beautiful than he already is, his pale skin was dusted with pink from a drunken haze from your blood, intoxicating him. You cupped the side of his face as your right foot pressed against his bulge, pressing firmly against it which had small gasps of pleasure leaving his lips and he held back from rolling his hips against your foot. Seeing him holding back, you smirked while leaning forward until your face was an inch away from his and teased him with lewd ideas.

That seemed to be enough to have him cum in his boxers once again before scowling, "I'm filthy now, tsk, I do hope I can change soon." He mumbled in distaste.

You let out a breathy laugh, "You aren't going to, pretty boy, I'm not done with you just yet." with that, that foot on his bulge rubbed up and down slowly.

Reji wasn't happy to hear that because he had to get ready for night school in an a few hours and had to make sure his brothers weren't going to cause any issues to make them late but here you are, making a promise it won't be them making them late. You traced his cock through the wet material, the soft touching made a groan vibrate in his chest while he tried to pull away in hopes to calm himself but you just reached out to grab his hair, yanking him forward to keep him close.

"Come 0n, Reji," your foot moving faster, "I'm not gonna tell you again so stay put."

Yui

Yui is a very innocent and naive human; her purity has your mind running with lewd thoughts and your hands mold perfectly into the dips of her hips. Wanting to tarnish her beautiful pale skin with hickeys and bite marks and have your sharp anils dug into the soft flesh of her hips, the thought of her own blood painting her skin from your fangs has you shivering in ecstasy. She sat in your lap as you sunk your fangs into her bare shoulder, her hips shaking slightly as the vibrator buzzed intensely inside her dripping cunt and pulls sweet moans from her throat, pushing her over the edge with guiding her through the pleasure. Her third orgasm is close to unfolding and you sucking on her rich blood softly has shivers of arousal down her spine, trying to unravel the knot in her stomach and cum all over your leg. You detached your fangs carefully and pulled away to see her teary face, the cute glassy look in her eyes as the pleasure builds up and the shake in her hips once the toy dully hits the sweet spot in her that has stars dancing in her vision,

"You look so cute like this darling. I do wonder what other cute noises you are capable of making." Your voice came out low and husky, staring her in the eyes as she cried softly.

Her eyes softly close as her third orgasm finally hits, sending her over the edge and collapsing into you,"Cu..Cumming!" She moans out, holding onto your shoulders as her body quivers in sensitivity.

You cooed. Hands rubbing up and down her sides while she rides out her high, but you never move to turn off or down the vibrator, loving how she cries and cums over and over for you. It never bored you how the tiny human was whenever you decided to show her what the church was trying to make her miss out, making her tight pussy cream over and over until you had enough. Poor girl was worn out and wanted to sleep but your hands just slip down to the apples of her ass and pulls her cheeks apart before bouncing your leg slightly which made her sob softly.

Kou

It's hard to get some alone time with him long enough to even do more than kissing since the young idol is always busy but luckily for you both, he was free for the day. His lips are pressed against your for sweet and chaste kisses as you hold his hips as they slowly roll down onto you, soft whimpers came from despite him trying to hold them back. Knowing his stubborn personality, you persuaded his moans by digging your nails into his bare hips and drawing out those sweet noises he wanted to keep from you. Your nails dug even more into his hips which made him throw his head back and cum on his stomach, gasping as he held onto your shoulders tighter while his hips moved slower and dragging his dick against you which has him moaning more.

"That's it, baby, cum for me, wanna see that pretty face once more." You smirked as your left hand slipped off his hip and pressed your fingertips against his tip which had him twitching.

"No teasing- Please." He whimpers.

you just pressed a kiss to his forehead before wrapping a hand around his sensitive length, making his hiss but buck into your hand. Kou was thrusting shallow into your tight fist, drooling onto your shoulder while he mumbles out 'please' between sharp breaths. He wasn't sure if he wanted you to stop or keep going but one thing, he knew is that he didn't want your hand to move off his cock. Your hand moved slowly with his thrusts and allowed him to change the pace, wanting to see him edge himself until he's crying for you to do it for him because he likes it when you do it.

Subaru

"You can pretend you don't like this all you want but it won't change the fact that you are leaking all over the place." you whispered against his ear as you pumped the fleshlight on his dick while he tried to stay put, biting down on his tongue to keep his moans quiet despite his eyes were pooling with lust and pleasure and his lips formed a tight line.

His ruby eyes squeezed shut as the pleasure was building up and he was close to cumming the fourth time, but he was determined to show he wasn't affected by it. Your hand sped up, the toy smacking down in a lewd squelch as you purred out taunts to get a reaction, but the stubborn vampire refused to give you it which made you huff annoyance, so you stopped your movements which had him holding his breath for a second, trying to collect his thoughts but the painful throbbing of his dick had him breathing ragged and. He opened his eyes softly shot a glare at you which made you perk up happily, so you smirked as you teased him by twisting the toy which had him gasping slightly when your grip on the fleshlight tightened.

"Stop playing around and move the damn toy!" He yelled irritably.

You were finally getting what you wanted, and he knew he shouldn't have caved in after all, he said he wouldn't, but he knew you would just keep the toy still. The fleshlight moved quickly up and down his slicked-up cock, the lewd noises filled the room along with his jagged breathing and growls which in the back of his mind he was screaming knowing that his brothers could hear it all. His thighs flexed under you as they wanted to close and stop your movement as his fifth orgasm built up, the pit of his stomach was on fire, and he wanted to put it out, but you refused to move.

Ruki

The library in the Mukami's house was filled with the moans and skin slapping from the oldest brother and the human that lived with them. His low and deep moans were enchanting to you and the sight of him bent over the table, pressed against it as you thrusted into him was too much for you. You came just seeing him like this and to put the icing on the cake, he came onto the book the fifth time which has him groaning about it being stained. You only shoved two fingers into his mouth to shut him up and he didn't take it as well as you wanted him to, but you were pleased to see him angrily sucking on them. Ruki knew this wasn't like him, allowing a human to take control of him and milk him with the fake cock you had strapped to your hips, but it was too good to stop now. The false cock pushed further into him, shaping his ass into the shape of it while he spread his legs further and licked between your digits in hopes you stop soon.

Leaning down, you kissed the back of his hickey covered neck and cooed "Is someone mad about dirtying a book, hm? But you said you wanted to be dirty." You mocked.

He growled behind your fingers and mumbled, "I didn't mean to ruin a book, kind of dirty." And you only could laugh at him.

Your hips pulled back until the tip was stretched around the tight muscle before slamming back, sheathing all of the strap into him which made his eyes cross and he cums once again, coating the drying cum-covered book more. His brain was melting into thoughts of your cock, and he just helplessly bounced back to meet your thrust to ride out of his high. With your attention completely on him, you two were unaware of the three-lust crazed and jealous filled eyes from the staircase.

Kanato

"Sit still Prince. The wax will get everywhere when you move like that." You growled softly, holding the pretty lilac candle over his bare chest.

He whines softly against your thumb as he sucks on it softly, his fang piercing the soft skin for him to get a taste of your blood.  The candle and your blood has him overstimulated and he isn't sure he is able to cum the third time but you were coaxing him into him with your seductive aggressive tone and the sweetness of your blood, the small twinges of pain from the hot wax swirling under his skin had him cumming, muffled moans spilling out from behind your thumb as you pressed your thumb against his tongue. His soft lavender eyes stared up at you with fear as you moved the candle to hover on his dick and once wax dripped onto his balls, he came once again.

"O-Oh my! Do it a-again now, now!" He demanded as his dick throbbed in pain.

Kanato was slowly slipping into subspace, allowing you to do whatever to him and make him cum on command but with the knowledge of Teddy watching from the velvet couch from the corner of your room had a tinge of embarrassment swirling in the pit of his stomach. The wax dripped onto his angry red cock, making him let out high pitched cries and squirms in place, stuck between wanting to move or staying there. It hurt but felt oh so good and he wanted it so bad, but his poor little cock was stinging from the pain. The pain blossomed into pleasure with every drip, and it had his toes curling while he cries for Teddy to look away, but the beady black eyes of the stuffed bear stared at its moaning owner. Kanato felt so humiliated, and you just smiled at him, showing no care that he wanted his stuffed friend to be turned away.

Yuma

"You look like you taste sweet." You hovered your lips over his, pouring caramel sauce onto his body while rubbing his hardening cock. 

Throwing his head back as you slowly poured the sauce down to his dick, coating it while teasing him by leaving fluttering kisses onto his lips, "Stop teasing me dammit." He growled.

You smirked and lowered your body down to his dick and placed a small kiss to his angry red tip before moaning when licking your lips to capture the sweet taste. He looks down at you with arousal written all over his face; his eyebrows knitted together in anger for your teasing and the lightly dusted of pink all down his neck that complement the purple and blue marks you left, your tongue swirling around his caramel covered dick before engulfing the sweet length. With all the teasing and now the warmth of your mouth, it was all too much so he came into your mouth which made you hum happily. The sweetness of the caramel and his cum, you moaned while swallowing it all before pulling away, sticky strings of cum mixed caramel to connecting to your lips and stuck out your tongue to show it was clean. He muttered under his breath while he stared at your mouth, liking it more than he thought he would and his hands reached out to your head, in hopes to make you do that again and you allowed him. Taking his cock down your throat once again, you bobbed your head along with his slight thrust of his hip. Yuma was yanking at the soft strains hair between his fingers while he let out deep moans and curses every time his tip pushes past the tight tunnel of your throat.

Azusa

Dragging his favorite knife across his skin had him whimpering pathetically, dragging it carefully along his bandaged right arm while your hips rolled down onto his dick, making him stare at you with teary eyes. Seeing the fear and pleasure swirl in his eyes had you intoxicated, and his whimpers making you drunker and you refuse to slow down, bouncing faster and taking him further into you sopping pussy. Azusa was in love the way your pussy hugged his cock and refusing to allow him to pull out even though he refused to allow you to, wanting you to fuck him until he was only shooting blanks. The knife started to slip from your hold, and he noticed so he clasped his hand over yours and helped you move it up to his neck, wanting to feel the cold silver against his bandaged throat. Once holding the knife the way he wanted, you slowly dragged the tip down the middle of neck down to the valley of his chest which had him cumming, the thought of you loving him so much and having the ability to hurt him despite never breaking skin had him losing his mind and filling your cunt with his warm cum as he babbles out 'I love you' repeatedly.

His eyes clouded with ecstasy as you slowly rode his sixth orgasm, "M-More, I want more, Mommy." He hiccupped; his grip of your arm tightened as he tried to move his hips with yours.

You giggled and kissed his shoulder, "You will darling, Mommy isn't gonna stop just until she milked every drop of cum out of you." You whispered while kissing up his shoulder.

[inmaki2]

luxiems reaction to a partner that’s loud in bed

req . pairing : luxiem x f!reader .

smut mdni . 2k est wc .

warnings : mocking in mystas . pull out method in lucas . uhh it’s just filth

posting b4 i sleep.. sry for taking so long with this im a slow writer + kpop blog shit LMAO

- mysta rias

your sounds are a one way ticket to shooting this man’s ego through the roof.

whenever he gets to be on top, mysta thrives in the fact that he can make you feel so good, to the point where volume has no consequence in your poor fucked out brain. of course, this doesn’t mean your boyfriend won’t be a little mean about it — it’s just how he is.

“uh, uh,” mocking the tone of your choked up sounds, mysta can’t help but snicker while his hips slam into yours. “so—“ he’s cut off when your walls squeeze him even tighter, “shit, such cute fuckin’ noises. my dick’s that good, huh slut?”

you don’t even have the strength to vocalize your embarrassment from the cruel imitation, much too preoccupied gripping the sheets for dear life. not to mention the pathetic string of drool falling from the corner of your swollen lips; open mouth allowing more squeals to escape with every thrust while the grip on your thighs tighten.

his pace never relents, even when your walls are practically suffocating him. “c-cum, please pl— ah! please, wanna cum, mysta,” you beg, voice cracking desperately.

the pleads coming from your sore throat only encourage the male to go rougher, one sleek finger rushing down to circle your puffed clit while the others lie sternly across your pelvis, harsh pressure preventing any attempts to squirm away while massaging the bulge his length leaves on your lower tummy in the process.

with you nearly spasming beneath him, mysta smiles wider. “hold it, kay? keep moaning my name louder n’ i’ll consider. let everyone know who’s fucking you this good.”

- shu yamino

it’s like a game for him — what can he do to make you even louder? theres no point in whining either, you can whimper and beg all you want, but your nerd of a boyfriend is rather strict in bed no matter how much he loves your pleas.

shu has your back pressed to his toned chest, a muscly bicep ensuring you’re immobilized by mimicking a seat belt across your waist. his free hand plunges two skillful fingers into your hole, purposely avoiding your clit for nothing but the fun of it.

even so, perhaps it’s the way he abuses that gummy spot so easily, or maybe the sloppy sounds coming from his mouth as he sucks on your shoulder — whatever it is, you simply can’t hold in your cries.

“want.. want your cock now, shu. please pl—!” a slap to your cunt along with the emptiness of his fingers’ absence has you crying out, and it takes everything in your boyfriend’s power to not groan as your ass rubs right on his bulge.

biting into your shoulder, shu tuts in disappointment. “this isn’t enough?” he lazily drags his pointer through your folds, huffing. “i thought you were my good girl.“

“i am, i am your—“ you’re cut off with another slap, yelping in a mix of delicious pleasure and pain while juices flow out from the contact.

“enough,” he spits. “good girls dont complain when they already have two fingers filling them up. they sit there, moan, and take it.” before you can reply, he’s already thrusting back into you, humming in approval when you let out a gutteral sound that can surely be heard outside the room.

“there you go, scream my name when you cum.”

though you can barely think, you use your last bit of strength to mumble out, “do— do i get your dick after?”

this has shu letting out a chuckle even while his fingers are curling into your walls, and you swear you see the tip of his ears turn a shy red. “sure, princess. s’long as you keep those pretty moans up.”

- ike eveland

yes, your boyfriend loves the variety of sounds he can emit from you, but god it stresses him out sometimes.

ike is not up for sharing nor exhibitionism, the mere thought of anyone else hearing or knowing what the two of you are up to has him pausing anxiously, even when the blissful feeling of your thighs suffocating him flourishes. he occasionally wonders how your throat manages such strain, even more so when you nearly howl from the way his lips suck around your most sensitive area.

despite your body weight crushing him, ike manages to pull off for a second to breathe. “no..” you complain, hands rushing to tug him back by the fluffy grey hair tickling your thighs.

“don’t worry, i’ll give you what you want, y/n,” he reassures, pretty face red and sweaty. “but try to stay quiet for me.”

“s’ hard..” almost teasingly, ike’s tongue is swiftly back to licking up your juices, two pale arms hooking around your thighs to ensure you’re fully sitting right on him. his prior request diminishes, in fact, the opposite only occurs.

everytime his tongue pushes into your hole, his nose bumps your clit so perfectly — not to mention the vibration coming from his own sounds against your cunt, hurriedly sending you over the edge. “geez, i say be quiet and you only get louder. bad girl.”

you’ve pretty much tuned him out at this point of your high, which ike catches onto rather quickly. though to your luck, your boyfriend is feeling merciful. “go on— mmh, just cum. as long as you’re ready to get gagged after while i fuck you.”

- vox akuma

well aren’t you just made for this man? being loud himself, vox very much appreciates your openness to matching his volume whether it be intentional or not. his ego is skyrocketing as is, but every time you scream his name, it feels as though something goes off in his brain, resembling a mental pat on the back that has his cock twitching.

“fuuuck, cunt’s squeezing me so damn tight. keep moaning like that, baby.” contradictingly, the man presses your face further into the mattress, plowing his length into you from behind at a dauntingly fast pace. it may sound strange, but vox thinks you look cute suffering underneath him like this.

you aren’t even sure if it’s tears or drool staining the sheets, but the bubbling feeling of embarrassment encourages you to finally purse your lips and stop the erotic noises circling your bedroom.

however, your boyfriend freezes, seemingly accepting this as a challenge.

his hips cease movement almost completely with only the tip poking your entrance, a graceful hand running up your sides as he whispers. “oh? what’s this?” suddenly, you feel yourself being pulled up, two fingers turning your chin to come face-to-face with a sinister sneer. “going quiet on me?”

“milord..” as you attempt to speak, your jaw is forced open wider before a glob of saliva is dropped onto your vulnerable tongue.

“swallow,” vox hisses. you comply seconds later even though your cheeks are burning red, body involuntarily squirming in pathetic attempts to run from the length slowly sheathing back inside. “good girl.”

when he’s an inch or two from bottoming out, he pulls your hips back onto him, ejecting a chocked yelp from your mouth at the feeling of him hitting that gummy spot. vox only laughs in response. “so cute.. thinking you can hide those pretty sounds from me.” an offended tch leaves his lips. “do that again and you’re not cumming tonight, m’kay darling?”

- luca kaneshiro

luca’s main goal in bed is just to please you as much as he can, so being loud does nothing but make him feel pride and act as a sign that he’s doing well — especially now when he’s putting all his strength into making you both reach bliss.

legs wrapped tightly around his waist, you let out a groan as his cock plunges into you harshly, the girth and length making your eyes squeeze shut by the fullness. “please luca..”

he grunts, sweat rolling down his face and onto yours. “what- what are you begging for now?” the blonde moves one hand down to your chest, pinching your nipple playfully.

“harder!”

“harder?” luca parrots, a mischievous smirk rising across his cheeks. who was he to say no? “don’t complain if you can’t walk tomorrow.”

regardless of his warning, he quickly obliges, snickering at how a strangled moan is forced out of you with each prod. luca is certainly aware of the racket you’re making, but noise complaints are his last concern when he gets a front row seat to your eyes rolling back into your skull. “jesus, you’re loud. gonna— shit, gonna squirt all over me babe?”

you can only nod in response, hands pathetically gripping strong biceps while his fingers move down to press the bulge on your tummy. before you can make another move he’s pulling you into a kiss, swallowing your sounds right as your impending orgasm washes over you. luca groans himself from the way your walls spasm, struggling to even pull out with your legs caging him in.

eventually he’s releasing all over your swollen cunt and stomach, groaning in satisfaction at his work while flopping down next to you. “hey y/n.”

“what, luca?”

“i think that’s one of the loudest i’ve ever got you. top three at least.”

you open one eye in disbelief, making eye contact with the same idiot who just fucked your insides up. “is everything a competition to you?”

“i’m just saying!”

if u want me to write more make sure to reblog/send asks and tell me if u enjoyed !!!!!

nkox 2023 - do not copy, translate, crosspost, etc.

[kasagia]

I love you... I am sorry

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x fem!witch! reader Summary: According to Baghra, there is only one person who can save her son. You—his first love and a witch who can control the powers of the Darkling. Aleksander becomes a prisoner of the Sun Summoner and King Nikolai, and you are to control and watch over him as he works for his redemption... but does he have the strength and will to continue fighting? And while everyone is busy saving Ravka from Fjerda and Shu Han, you're busy saving Aleksander from himself. Even though he doesn't want you around anymore... Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @chelseyyouraverageluigi @watersquirtpewpewboomm @summersummoner-pat Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Part 2 ~•♤♤♤•~

"I don't like this," Nikolai grumbles as he, Baghra, and Alina walk deeper into the forest near Ulensk. "Wouldn't it be easier for us to just kill him?"

Alina tenses as she hears the howling of wolves nearby. She weakens her ball of light slightly and instinctively approaches Baghr. Ever since they destroyed the fold, Fjerda and Shu Han have become... more daring in their travels near the border. Something Aleksander had warned her about. She didn't want to risk running into one of the Fjerdan's stray troops.

"We are not like him. He deserves one last chance before we get rid of him." Nikolai sighs and nods. They walk in silence for a few more minutes until they finally reach a small clearing. Baghra stands, staring at one spot.

"Shine more brightly." She orders Alina and kneels down.

Baghra takes out a dagger and cuts her hand. She smears her blood across the leaves, mumbling words under her breath in old Ravkan. Alina and Nikolai look at each other uncertainly when suddenly the branches of the surrounding trees grow. They connect with each other, creating an impenetrable wall around the three of them. Nikolai reaches for his sword, and Alina instinctively reaches into her pocket for her amplifier. The fog thickens around them and the ground shakes slightly as a small wooden hut rises from beneath it.

"I'll go first." Baghra announces and stands up.

"No. We're all going together."

"She's probably not a big fan of yours, Sankta Alina." Baghra sneers, sending the girl a mocking look. "I better get her ready for you."

Alina stubbornly follows Baghra, ignoring her words and disapproving look. Nikolai reluctantly joins the two women, and so the three of them cross the threshold of the small hut.

They enter a living room full of bookshelves and various crystals. A fire burns in the fireplace, and the air smells of lavender from the incense burning on a table covered with various pots, magnifying glasses, and metal tools. The candles burn a little brighter when the door behind them suddenly closes with a loud bang.

"Millennium, and you haven't learnt to knock? Besides, I thought you hated draught." Baghra rolls her eyes at your mocking voice.

You push past the uninvited guests and sit down at the table. You sip your tea and throw the crystal into the cauldron, then set it over the fire burning in your fireplace.

"You probably know what my son has been up to lately?"

"Aleksander has always been an ambitious man. I thought we were all aware of that fact." Alina feels an unpleasant pang in her chest when you use the Darkling's true name when you refer to him. She shakes her head, trying to dispel the unwanted feelings.

"You call the creation and expansion of the fold ambitious?" Alina asks you, irritated. Baghra elbows her in the ribs, but she ignores it completely, giving you a stern, appraising look.

"And you probably think that destroying it was ambitious, right, little sunbeam?" You mock her without even looking at her. Alina doesn't like it at all.

"That was the right thing to do. That was needed to be done."

"Anything that helps you sleep better at night, sunshine. But you realise that now the Fjerdans and the rest will be entering Ravka as if it were their own land, right? If you think the fold was a problem for Grisha, just wait until all the kidnapping, rape, and experimentation on your people begins. I'd love to see what desperate move you will make next when you realise that your problems are only beginning, oh holy Sankta Alina of the Fold."

"I'm not here to discuss Ravka's future with you."

"You shouldn't be here at all." You state, and yawn boredly. You go to the fireplace and take your pot. You put it on the table and stir the dissolved crystal. You prepare a form to pour the mass, but first you add a few leaves and flowers to the substance.

"We need your help. With maintaining control over Aleksander."

"Oh really? Do you remember that time you told me to fuck off because I was of no use to you or your son?" You remind her, smirking as she clenches her teeth and fists, barely controlling her anger. "Besides, Aleksander has never been the submissive type... did it stay that way, Sankta Alina?" You almost laugh as you see the girl blush madly as she can't find her tongue at your comment.

"I… we never…"

"Oh really? Well, my mistake. And your loss." You say, winking at her and giving her a wolfish grin. Baghra clears her throat, drawing your attention for a moment.

"If you don't help us, they will kill him." You frown, setting down all your tools and turning to face the trio. A cold shiver runs down your spine as you carefully choose your next words.

“And remind me, why should I care?”

"I thought you liked your immortality." Baghra nods at your necklace. You wrap your hand around the small heart and swallow, examining her carefully.

"He told you?" You ask in shock, looking at the old woman.

"Of course not. It's Aleksander. I found out on my own." You roll your eyes and fold your arms at her accusatory tone of voice.

"Don't blame him for something you taught him yourself." You respond calmly, giving her a pointed, hard look. Baghra tenses and looks away from you to the crystals hanging above your table. The tension in the room is palpable as you both reminisce about old times.

Maybe centuries ago you managed to break through the wall Aleksander had placed around his heart and see the real him, but just as long ago as you gained access to the deepest and darkest part of him, you lost it long ago and quickly.

"Will you go with us?" Baghra growls, not meeting your eyes. You swallow hardly, thinking about it. You knew that there would come a time to right the wrongs of your past; you just didn't think it would happen so soon. Although, was 500 years a short time?

"And do I have another choice in this situation?" You sigh, knowing full well that it was time for you to join this great war the Summoners were leading.

Ravka needed you.

Aleksander needed you.

“What are you thinking about?” You whisper, placing small kisses on his neck—everywhere you can reach without taking your head off his shoulder.

You and Aleksander lie in the tent, listening to the crickets play their nightly tunes around you. You curl up against him, taking in his warmth as you both catch your breath after completing some... quite enjoyable and pleasant activities.

“How soft your skin is... just as if I were wearing the finest silk.” You snort at his words and prop yourself up on your elbow so you can look at him. You stroke his cheek with your hand, ignoring the prickly two-day stubble on his face, and lean down to whisper in his ear.

"Not that I don't appreciate your ability to fire off compliments so quickly, but I really want to know what's going on inside that pretty little head of yours."

Aleksander sighs heavily and pulls you to him. He kisses you full of passion and ardour, as if you hadn't just given yourself over to each other's desires a few minutes ago. You sigh quietly, allowing him to distract you for a moment with a heated kiss as he climbs on top of you again, trapping you in the cage of his arms.

You place your hands on his chest and reluctantly pull away from his kiss. You pull him closer to you so he rests his forehead against yours, and you inhale his scent, enjoying his closeness.

"I still remember my question, how about you?"

He sighs, playing with your hair. He closes his eyes and gives you one last, short kiss before he rolls onto his back, taking you with him. You sigh, lying pressed against his chest as you listen to the steady beat of his heart. Aleksander plays with your hair, drawing patterns on your scalp with his fingers. He gathers his thoughts, pulling you closer to him and swallows hard before finally speaking again.

"I saw Ulla." You frown, feeling his muscles tense beneath you. You gently trace patterns on his arm with your fingertips, watching him closely as he mentions his sister.

"How is she?"

"Besides the fact that that idiot broke her heart? Very… lonely from what she told me." You sigh and press a kiss on his shoulder. He gives you a small half-smile and runs a hand through your hair.

"She needs time to heal. You'll see, you'll complain again that she and I spend too much time at the fairs and by the lakes and that she's stealing me from you." You joke, hoping to hear him chuckle, but he just sighs deeply, still haunted by thoughts of his sister.

"I asked her to return. To me. To us." He says thoughtfully and unconsciously tightens his grip on you, as if he were afraid that you might slip out of his arms at any moment.

"She didn't agree, I assume?" You ask quietly, cupping his cheek in your hand and stroking it tenderly with your thumb.

You want to give him all the physical closeness he needs. Give him every little reassurance that for now you're staying and you're not going anywhere. Or at least you hope to stay with him a little longer...

"Every person close to me, whether from my family or not, eventually leaves me. And never comes back. I'm afraid it'll be the same with her. I've buried a lot of brothers and sisters... but Ulla... it's different with her. I've taken care of her since she was a child. From the very beginning. I know she won't live as long as I, but... I'm sick of everyone leaving me."

"Ulla loves you. She won't leave you for long… I hope so."

"And would you come back to me? If we somehow got separated... would you return if I asked you to?" He asks, looking at you carefully.

In a heartbeat. You think about it, but you don't tell him. You don't want to give him false hope. Instead, you press lazy kisses along the column of his neck and jaw.

"Depends on how passionately you would ask me to…" You whisper seductively against his ear. A smirk appears on his face, and he raises an eyebrow, giving you a wicked, suggestive look.

“Greedy little thing.” He mumbles, nuzzling your cheek. His lips descend to your neck, where he sucks a hickey. You moan, exposing more of your neck to him and grinding against him.

“That’s why you love me.” You whine as he pushes you onto your back and presses his chest against yours. He cups your cheek in his hand, staring at you as if he’s trying to memorise and engrave every little detail of your face into his memory.

"I love you for more than that, little witch…" He mumbles into your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

A shiver of desire courses through you again. You pull him to you and kiss him passionately, digging your fingers into his shoulder as his hand wanders below your collarbone and cups your breast. He massages and kneads your body, plays with your nipple, and all you can think about is how good you feel under him, how he makes you experience pleasure so intense that you doubt you'll find it with anyone else.

You don't want to look for anything else. You want to be under him forever, intoxicated by the touch of his soft lips and rough hands as he takes you apart into tiny pieces, showing you the secrets of unimaginable and immense pleasure that makes you feel like you can't breathe anymore.

And you find yourself wanting to stop breathing if it meant that you would stay with him forever.

"From where exactly did you get your powers? Grisha are born that way, what about you? Has your family been witches for generations?" The young king of Ravka's question tears you from your thoughts.

"Why this curiosity, Your Highness?" You reply teasingly, watching him closely as you all rode horses to the capital.

You had been on the road for a few days now, and you were now leading them to one special place. Alina and Baghra, when they weren't giving you suspicious glances, were whispering to each other. Meanwhile Nikolai was trying to keep you occupied with conversation. He turned out to be a pleasant traveling companion. Not like certain women.

"A good king should take an interest in his subjects and know what kind of people live within the walls of his kingdom." His simple answer surprises you a little. The kings of his dynasty had a... completely different approach to this. Your years had taught you to distrust all monarchs, but this young king really did seem different from them all. You wondered how quickly he would fall.

"I am not your subject. I may live in Ravka, but neither I nor my family have ever sworn allegiance to the kings frim your dynasty. And we don't intend to."

"I see… so a free spirit? A woman of the world, as they call it?" You chuckle at this, shaking your head gently.

"You could say that. We sleep where we have comfortable moss under our heads, under the open sky with the stars as our guardians. I and the witches of my tribe are one with nature, with the earth, with what grows and dies on it. We are the guardians of the circle of life."

"However, not all of them decide to be in this cycle of life and follow it." Baghra points this out scathingly. You turn in your saddle to look at her for a moment.

"My immortality is no problem for Mother Nature, Baghra. Neither is yours. Nor is Aleksander's, or your little saint's. But it is in my care that the whole world does not suddenly become immortal. There is a worse evil in your shadows than you, volcra or nichevo'ya. And if I could go back in time, I would do the exact same thing… maybe just in a different way."

You shift your gaze from the old woman to the lakes before you, leading your horse onto a side path. You were not far from your destination place. You close your eyes and sigh, trying not to bring up any more memories of your past... any memories of HIM.

Yet, no matter how many years you have lived, you have never been able to contain your burning feeling of regret whenever you remembered what happened between you and Shadow Summoner.

"So? From where did you get your powers?" Nikolai pursues the topic, wanting to know the answer to his question. You run a hand through your hair and pull the hood over your head, realizing you won't get far without an answer. Autumn was coming. Cold autumn.

"The witches' coven I belong to accepts a new member every 100 years. In exchange for the powers the new witch receives from Mother Nature, she must sacrifice something."

"So what did you sacrifice? Your mortality?"

"No. She has sacrificed her ability to lie. She can only tell the truth. But do not be deceived. Even without that, she can conceal part of the truth and mislead you." Baghra answers for you. You roll your eyes at her, scanning the area. You smile when you see a familiar pine tree.

"I had a reason to do that. It was not an act of cunning on my part. I had to unless... that's not important now. Besides, I am far from a master like you, Baghra." You hear Nikolai chucklea softly as you speed up your horse. You reach the tree and dismount, sighing in relief as your feet touch the ground.

You walk to the tree and lean your hand against it. You grab one of the crystals you keep in your pocket and the dagger. You make a hole in the tree's bark and insert the crystal. You whisper a few words under your breath and sigh, feeling the wind on your skin. The water in the lake splits in half. You turn around with a small smile on your lips.

"Hello Ulla." You greet Aleksander's sister with a smile, watching Baghra turning pale from the corner of your eye as she faces the daughter she abandoned ages ago.

Best day of your life.

"How is he?" You ask Aleksander's sister when she returns from the cell they're keeping him in. The brown-haired one snorts, jumping onto your bed and taking your glass of whisky from you.

Today, your little group finally made it to the capital. The first thing Ulla did was visit her brother. She looked older than the last time you saw her. Streaks of grey hair were starting to appear on her head, and you swear you saw a few wrinkles on her face. Time had done its thing to her. Your heart ached at the thought that in 300 years, she might not be here anymore...

"Angry, frustrated, resigned. At first, I didn't recognise him at all. Those scars... and he... he doesn't have that twinkle in his eyes like he used to. Like... like he doesn't care anymore. He was excited to see me, but this... this isn't the same Aleksander he was before. I felt like a stranger was standing before me, not Sasha. Baghra was right. Something's wrong with him."

"I'll kill their little saint. And your mother." You growl completely mad at them both because of the state they brought Aleksander to and get out of your bed. You go to the closet and put on one of your grey coats, ignoring the mischievous look Ulla gives you.

"You still love him, don't you?" You roll your eyes at her and shove your hands into your pockets, making sure you have a few crystals there in case you need to use your magic.

"I forgot how much you love coming up with your conspiracy theories. Which by the way are very annoying."

"You're not answering my question." She replies with a smirk. She walks over to you and gently smooths your hair. You snort, pushing her hands away, knowing full well that she's getting you ready to meet her brother.

"It's no secret that I care about him. We spent a good few years together, almost a century if I remember correctly. Is it possible to just forget about someone like that?"

"I don't think so. You should have seen his reaction when I told him you came here with me. I thought he had a heart attack." You groan at her words, disbelieving that she was actually playing matchmaker between you and her brother right now.

"You told him?!"

"You go to him anyway. What's the problem?" She replies indignantly, walking back to your bed and laying down on it. You roll your eyes at her, and with a wave of your hand, the pillow she had under her head disappears. Ulla shouts at you angrily, and you quickly materialise the pillow in your hands and throw it at the woman.

"Because of you, I lost all the element of surprise that I could have used on him to get some information!" You growl at her angrily, grabbing and throwing away the pillow she threw at you. You jump on the bed and pin her to the mattress, laughing at her as she growls, trying to get out from under you.

"Wait! Wait! I'll tell you how he reacted to that!!" She screams from under the pillow you've started to smother her with. You lift the pillow enough to look at her face.

"How? He made those big, puppy eyes of his and asked you to free him from his cell so he could run to me and give in to his long-held passion and feelings?" You mock her as you climb off of her. You lean against the wooden bedpost, watching her try to catch her breath.

"More or less… he asked what you looked like, how you were, if we had met before… if you were with someone." She says maliciously, giving you a big, sly, wolfish smile.

"You're joking, right?" You ask her, trying to hide your surprise under a neutral, bored tone.

"No. Our Sasha wanted to know if you had someone for his place."

"Is that exactly how he put it in words?"

"Well… maybe not." She replies after a moment, running a hand through her hair. You sigh, shaking your head at her in disbelief. So many years, and sometimes she still behaved like a child.

"Ulla." You growl at her and reach for the pillow again.

"Okay, okay. No need to be violent. He asked if Baghra had also sent for you, so that you could fly in on your magic broom and stab him in the heart once and for all, or if you had found yourself a new more intersting toy, but hey, at least he was interested and asked!"

"Poor consolation."

"You know how Sasha is." You sigh in resignation at this. You bite your lip so hard that you taste your own blood on your tongue. You promised yourself that you wouldn't get your hopes up… Aleksander and you were a long-finished affair. No matter what his sister thought.

"I know him too good to have any illusion that he sees me as anything more than an enemy and a traitor." You answer and get out of bed, mentally preparing yourself to meet him.

"Where are you going?!"

"To him! A day without tormenting him is a wasted day!" You shout over your shoulder and close the door behind you.

You walk lazily through the corridors of the Grand Palace, as if deliberately prolonging the moment of seeing Aleksander, and head towards the second building in the royal courtyard. You sigh again as the majestic panorama of the Little Palace unfolds before you.

Looking at the beautiful, imposing building, you reluctantly recall the plans your Shadow Summoner made centuries ago.

“What are you doing?” You ask, coming up behind him as he sits at one of the tables in the library of the town you’re staying in for a few nights.

Aleksander bounces slightly in his chair and quickly shoves his sketchbook and art supplies into his bag. You frown, wondering what he's hiding from you, when he turns to you with that damn distracting smirk on his face.

"Nothing important, milaya. Were you looking for me? Do you need anything?" He asks and walks over to you, slinging his bag over his shoulder. He cups your cheeks in his hands and kisses your forehead tenderly before he wraps his arm around your waist and starts leading you out of the library.

"Your mother was looking for you. She needs babysitters for Ulla again." You say, nuzzling his neck and inhaling his scent. You wrinkle your nose at the familiar scent of burning metal and sweat from his work at the forge. He laughs at your reaction and pulls you closer to him, making sure you don't pull away from him despite everything.

"I know, I need to take a bath. But I hope you will help me?"

"Taking a bath?" You ask suggestively, laughing as he blushes all shyly and looks at you nervously.

"No!" He almost screams and buryes his face in your hair with a groan as you continue to laugh at him. "Taking care of Ulla."

"Always. But first…" you start and reach into his bag. You pick out his sketchbook and run forward, looking for the page he was working on so furiously in the library before you spoke.

“Y/N, no!” Aleksander shouts and runs after you. A few long strides of his, and you’re pinned to the ground by him. You laugh and struggle under him, but your struggle is futile. He quickly rips the sketchbook out of your hands and puts it somewhere safe before he pins your wrists to the ground. "You can't look into it without my permission. It is... personal."

"Sorry, handsome." You say and kiss his blushing cheek. You giggle as he lets go and climbs off of you. Before he can stand up, you snuggle into his back and wrap your arms around him. Your nose brushes his ear as you whisper quietly. "But you're so secretive lately… you know I don't like to not know what's in that pretty little head of yours. If you don't want to talk, then don't, but I just want to know if everything's okay and if there's nothing steaming up under your skull."

"I'm fine… I just... I will tell you in our room in tavern." You nod at his words and grab his hand. He gives you a small smile as you both walk through town, ignoring the looks you get from passersby who witness your little skirmish.

Once you're there, Ulla runs straight to Aleksander, wrapping her little arms tightly around his legs. The little one cries into his pants, sobbing that she thought you had abandoned her. The sight breaks your heart and makes you want to cut Baghra up and roast him into little pieces.

Aleksander abandons his bag and embraces the girl in a tight embrace. He goes to one of the single beds and tries to calm her down, whispering soft words of reassurance into her ear that he will never leave her. You sigh and pick up Aleksander's bag. You put it back on the hanger and briefly consider peeking in.

You abandon the idea and head back to the two of them to join in the group hug. You silently worry about what your "boyfriend" might have come up with. You're afraid it'll be something for your ring finger.

A moment later, as Ulla falls asleep with her head on your lap, Aleksander returns with dinner for the three of you. His sketchbook is tucked under his arm.

"I want to show you something." He whispers and sets the food on the nightstand next to your double bed. He crouches down next to the sinle bed where the two of you are and opens the book. Your heart is beating like crazy, your hands shaking as you take the leather-bound book from him.

"What is this?" You ask, looking closely at the outline of a grand building. It looked almost like a palace.

"I... I know this life isn't one of the best we could have... but it's still one of the best I've ever had. Of course it's all thanks to you and Ulla. I... I have a proposition before me. A very serious one. If I play my cards right, I'd like to build a place for the three of us. And for the other Grisha who are in need of their own safe place. Can you imagine? No more working in some shitty places, no more hiding our identity... it could be really nice, right?"

You sigh, gently placing Ulla's head on the pillow. You take Aleksander's hand and lead him to your bed. You both sit up slowly as you think about everything he's just told you.

"That... would be nice. But... Aleksander, this is a palace. The king would never agree; you know how he feels about us. Tell me you're not getting involved in anything dangerous." You sigh and place your hand on his cheek. He buries his face in your palm and closes his eyes. He wraps his arms around you tightly and presses a kiss to your temple before burying his nose in your hair.

"I'll be fine… but I'm tired of hiding. It's time to come out of the shadows… start using my powers and do something good not only for us, but for the other Grisha. Too many of us have died because of their stupidity."

"And I don't want your name added to that long list. Ulla needs you, and I'd rather have you alive with me, too." You mumble into his neck, holding on to him tighter.

"Is this your way of saying that you love me?" He asks teasingly, drawing patterns on your back with his fingers.

"That's my way of telling you that if you die, I'll find some damn spell or some other way to bring you back to life just so I can skin you for being such an idiot to get yourself killed."You growl quietly so as not to wake up Ulla and pull away from him to look into his eyes. Aleksander swallows, realising how true your words are.

"I'm not leaving you… not on purpose. I will always do everything in my power to come back to you. I promise." He whispers and kisses you sweetly, softly, thus sealing his promise.

You wrap your arms around him and pull him closer to you. You fall onto the mattress on your back with him above you and surrender to the blissful feeling of his arms around you.

You try to enjoy this as long as you can.

Before you know it, you're standing in front of the door to his cell. Sankta Alina and her king Nikolai have taken pity on him enough to set up cells for him in his former general's quarters. Of course, only after they've thoroughly searched the room. Such a petty act of malice.

You take one deep breath and enter the chamber.

It's dark there. Terribly dark. You can barely see your fingers as you close the door behind you. You reach for the crystal in your pocket and pull it out, holding it like a torch. You mutter the appropriate spell under your breath, and suddenly light emanates from the gem. You sigh as you see Aleksander standing just outside the bars, already staring at you intently.

"Aleksander." You whisper, trying to ignore the uneasy feeling you get from looking at the scars on his face and the fact that he hasn't spoken or made a fucking move yet. Not even for an inch. You doubt if he even blinks once since you entered. The son of a bitch was trying to intimidate you and scare you away. "Did they cut out your tongue?" You scoff, walking up to him and giving him an equally crazy, psychopathic look.

"Will you ever learn how to knock?"

"You seem to be very aware of my presence even before I open this door. Unless you have so many guests here that you simply cannot tear yourself away from these bars?"

"Too much lately." He hisses in irritation through clenched teeth, at which you roll your eyes.

"Hmm… good thing I'm not your guest." You say sarcastically and wave your hand, teleporting one of the chairs from his cell/chamber to the other side of the bars. You sit comfortably in front of him with the light-emitting crystals in your lap and just look at him, waiting for him to speak.

"I guess if I don't do this, you'll never get out of here, so there you go. Why are you here?" He asks after a long moment of silence, sighing as he finally gives up.

"I have been given a task by Their Royal Highnesses." You scoff, watching as the frown on his forehead deepens as he ponders the hidden meaning behind your words. "Aren't you curious what it might be?"

"With their brains? No big deal, I suppose." He mocks them and steps away from the bars. He pours himself a glass of whisky and sits down at a table with maps spread out on it. You raise an eyebrow at how... convenient he is. You don't remember the guest room they assigned you having such comforts.

"Yet they have locked you up here… without powers I suppose? I cannot feel your shadows." You see his fingers tighten angrily around the glass. You make a mental note that this is clearly not a pleasant topic for him.

"Still have that pendant?" He asks, nodding at you when he spots your heart-shaped pendant. You tense up and pull your knees to your chest, blocking his view of the necklace.

"Apparently. Would I be here if I didn't have it?" You answer carefully, fully aware of the game you're playing with Aleksander now. Everything you said was meant to hurt the other, to prove that you weren't impressed at all by being in the other's presence again. Even if you both had some... strong feelings at the sight of the other, you wouldn't admit it.

All that mattered now was who would win and hit the hardest, breaking the mask of indifference that you both tried so hard to keep on your faces... although his eyes tell you a little that your presence here isn't so irritating and indifferent to him at all.

"Of course not. After all you don't have a heart of your own."

You smile, trying not to show how his words really affected you. You internally regret that he went from being the person you trusted with all your worries to someone you wouldn't let see even a glimmer of pain in your eyes.

"Ouch. That hurt. And here I tried to be nice and inform you that for now on I am your guard and I oversee your resocialization process."

"I beg you pardon?" He asks in shock as you casually play with the gem in your hands. Aleksander watches closely as the light from it reflects off your fingers, face, chin, cheeks, lips…

"Just like you heard, honey. We'll be spending more time together again, aren't you happy?" You reply with a mocking smile and watch him carefully, gauging how he reacts to this new message.

"Resocialization? Does the fact that I wanted to help Grisha make me some kind of criminal from Ketterdam?"

"Words of Sankta Alina, not mine. Your ex probably doesn't like you very much. And from what I heard, you started destroying villages. You know who used such practices, right?" At the reference to his mother, he becomes even more gloomy. You get the feeling that if he could still control his shadows, he would at that very moment engulf the room in total darkness.

"Alina is not my ex." He merely comments as he adjusts the fastenings of his all-black kefta.

"My bad."

He stares at you for a long moment. You feel your skin burn where his eyes linger a little longer. You take advantage of that time to watch him too, searching for any slight changes in him since you last saw him.

"You, of all people, are supposed to lead me to the good, righteous path? This is ridiculous." You snort, also amused by the absurdity of this situation. Out of the two of you, N had always been the more... righteous one. Ironically, you were the one who was supposed to dig up the last remnants of his morality.

"Well, for some reason they want you alive. And they want you to cooperate. I'm supposed to be… a go-between in all of this mess."

"More like an infernal messenger of the devil." You smile, shaking your head. Aleksander tries to ignore the slight flutter in his heart and the pleasant warmth spreading through him as he witnesses your smile again.

"You always knew how to give me such beautiful compliments."

"They are desperate, aren't they? Destroying the fold didn't help and now they don't know what to do and want my advice? Tell your masters it's too late now." He says, returning to the main topic. He stands up from the war table, and you see him heading deeper into his chambers, probably his bedroom. With a wave of your hand, you close the door in his face before he has a chance to leave the room.

"You know very well that I have no master over me." You tell him, standing up from the chair as he slowly turns to face you.

"You haven't changed a bit, have you Y/N?" He asks, slowly approaching you. You shiver when you hear your name on his tongue. You clench your hands behind you as he slowly approaches you. The tension in the room is immense as you both stand as close to the bars as you can.

"Well, apparently neither do you." You whisper, trying to ignore the way he smelled so wonderful, how in an instant his closeness and the warmth he radiated made you feel at home again. How much you wanted to sink back into his arms and his sheets…

"Why are you here?" He asks, but is met only by your silence and a cold gaze that almost makes him tremble. "Don't you have other things on your mind? You're not going to tell me that this is only for my sake? I know perfectly well that you wouldn't return if I asked you. So why did you listen to my mother and also bring Ulla?"

"You don't know if I would come back. You never asked." You respond, your voice barely above a quiet purr. There’s a long silence after your words. He lifts his hand and wraps his fingers around the bars—dangerously close to your cheek.

"And are you surprised?"

"No. Actually, I am not."

You examine the scars on his face and barely manage to stop yourself from slipping your fingers between the bars and tracing them with your fingertips. Aleksander holds his breath, his lips twitching as he resists any movement under your watchful gaze.

He fights with himself not to reach for you and brush his fingers against your soft, velvety skin, or check that you're actually here in the flesh and not a figment of his imagination. Your sweet scent intoxicates him, reminding him how dangerous you are and that he can't trust you like he did. Which doesn't change the fact that he wants it so much.

"Gently, Ivan." You frown, not understanding what he means.

"What..." You're not allowed to finish. You feel your heartbeat slow down, and you slip into unconsciousness, only noticing the red and black kefta of one of his heartrenders out of the corner of your eye.

Your vision blurs, you slowly fall asleep, and all you can see before you collapse into the heartrender's arms are Aleksander's black eyes.

The son of a bitch ordered one of his men to put you to sleep and carry you out of his cell. Bastard.

[miguelsslvt]

SO AFTER READING your ... Miguel smut 😩✊ which is so freaking good and I wanted to ask if you can make an bodyguard/brat tramer !Miguel x FM/sassybrat!reader PLS I NEED THIS IN MY LIFE PLS SMUT please I'm on my knee on this idea like pls imagine Miguel trying n to do his job but FMbrat!reader wouldn't stay put and bend her over any surface and GO ABOUSTLY *Feral*ON her not giving READER ANY BREAK ! ONLY making her an moaning MESS while SAYING such thing like

"Oh? ..f-fu..So... This will shu-fu-ck!~....You so tight huh? You like when.!-.. I treat you like a...~!*fucking*slut" *"Mis extremas*" ( I use Google translate I'm so sorry if it wrong pls correct me I am!😭)

🗣🗣🗣🗣😩😩✊I CANT I NEED THIS PLS GURLL!.mother I love your writing🙌

(Im definitely a normal think about this man ,Miguel ohara)

bodyguard! brat tamer! miguel x brat! reader smut

word count: 445

TW: hugely nsfw, hair pulling, overstimulation, creampie.

A/N: SWEETHEART I FEEL YOU!! i was so excited to do this request because as a brat myself, i love this concept so much. brat tamer miguel has my heart djhisdjdgkl!! anyways, welcome to the club! ^^

god, did you regret not listening to his warning sooner. you were in the kitchen, whining as usual.

'no! i don't want to go see my dad!!' 'y/n your father wants to make sure y-' 'i don't care! who are you for me to listen to!? you aren't anyone special!' you whined. god, you were such a princess.

--------------------

'still not anyone special am i, sweetheart? because i-.. ay coño... i think i'm the one fucking you so hard you can't focus right now.~' he said behind your ear, as you held onto the kitchen counter for dear life. you were a moaning mess, eyes rolled back as miguel relentlessly plowed his way into you.

'aww poor princess.. can't even process a single word other then my name hm?~' he teased, pulling your hair back as you let out a squeal. 'm-miguel!! p-lease~ g-gonna-' 'oh no no muñeca.. only good girls get to cum. and i don't think you've been good have you?' he mocked, as you moaned in response, drool spilling from your mouth. miguel let out a light chuckle.

'aw look at you, you're lucky your dad let me to take care of you, hm? i wonder what he would think if he saw you like this.. all blabbering nonsense as your bodyguard fucks some sense into you~'

god, you couldn't feel anything. you were close, so close. but you knew that if you'd cum, miguel would make this so much worse then it had to be. even though you liked a challenge, you couldn't even form words to think right now, let alone another punishment.

'i-i'll b-be g-good! i-i swear!' you cried out, a moaning mess as tears and drool fell down your face, down to your neck. your hair stuck onto your forehead, as the restr was held by miguel's strong hand, where his other was on your hip, guiding you deeper onto his 9 inches.

'good? yeah? you'll be good for me muñeca?' he panted, feeling his climax arising. 'm-mhm!! y-yes- m-miguel ple-ase!~' you moaned out, as he let go of your hair and started to play with your clit.

you were practically chanting 'yes, please, miguel' as if your life depended on it. 'g-gonna..! i- m-miguel-' 'shh.. cum for me sweetheart, i know i know, you've been too good for me to not let you cum.' he said, as with that, you broke.

as your pussy spasmed around his cock, miguel let out a loud groan as he came moments after you, filling you. you gasped for air, as he panted with you.

wait, didn't your dad request to see you earlier? is that a knock on the door?!

[sovasleepy]

I missed you

[ gekko x gn!reader ] - when your mission takes a little longer than usual, gekko starts to worry. needless to say, he’s a little happy when you return.

tags: mentions of anxiety, brief mentions of blood and injuries (reader is slightly injured), mostly fluff though. could be considered hurt/comfort if you squint.

notes: requested by anonymous! i hope you enjoy :)

it felt like the clock was mocking him.

it read 9:37 PM, despite the expected arrival time of over an hour ago. something had to have gone on your mission, why else was it taking so long? missions took less time than usual on a regular basis, but never longer. not unless something had gone wrong.

several people were gathered in the hangar, waiting on the arrival of the jet. he wasn’t the only one nervous, apparently, as several kingdom-employed paramedics were already waiting there as well

brimstone was off somewhere, having gotten a call from those that were on the mission. despite the rapid beating of his heart, gekko knew he couldn’t follow. he couldn’t feel the tips of his fingers anymore, not that he particularly noticed that right now. he felt as though he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs, and with each passing second it only seemed to grow worse.

finally, the door brimstone had left out of opened again. he spoke into his earpiece again, briefly, before the large door to the hangar opened. he could hear the jet distantly.

gekko shot him a worried look. “what’s wrong?”

“had a few run-ins.” brimstone said, but offered the younger a pitied look. “i’m sorry, i can’t tell you more. i didn’t hear anything specific about anyone.”

gekko did his best to swallow back the lump in his throat, eyes flickering over to the sky outside the hangar where he could see the familiar black jet approaching.

the next few moments were a blur. despite his best attempts, he couldn’t see what was happening through the flurry of people running and moving around. he watched as a medic helped breach limp away, another sitting chamber against a wall and studying an injury on his shoulder.

after far too long, he watched you step out from the chaos. there was a cut on your cheek, but it had been half-way cleaned and the only evidence was the small, thin line of red on your skin. dried blood stained your clothing, but your clothes were not ripped.

the blood didn’t belong to you. good.

gekko stepped forward and enveloped you in a hug, tucking his face into the crook of your neck and holding you impossibly close. he inhaled your scent, electing to ignore that it was washed in sweat and blood.

“are you okay? what happened?” he asked. he finally pulled back, just far enough to hold your face in his hands and staring at you, studying your features.

“i’m okay,” you reassure. “some stuff happened, but we’re all okay.”

he nods and pulls you closer to his chest again. you can feel his heart still beating out of his chest from your place snuggled against him.

“let’s go get you cleaned up, alright?”

you nod, happy to change out of the clothes sticking to your body. the blood belonged mostly to chamber, but knowing who it belonged to didn’t make you feel any better about the way it clung to you.

it takes a moment for the two of you to make your way out of the mess of people, finding your way back up to your room. he follows you in, not wanting to take his eyes off of you for a moment.

“i’m gonna go shower, alright?”

he knows you need to, but he can’t help the look of panic that crosses his face for a brief moment. “okay. can i… i can turn around, but can i come with you?”

a laugh bubbles up from, smile painting its way across your face. you agree anyway. “sure, mateo.”

as you step into the bathroom, he’s not far behind you. he smiles at you one more time as you turn on the warm water before turning around to face the now-closed door.

it takes a moment for you to get undressed and step into the shower, but he eventually hears the familiar sound of the shower curtain being shut behind you. with your approval, he turns back around.

he can’t see you through the shower curtain, just moving shadows, but the reassurance that you are there and you alright is enough to calm his still-rampant nerves.

“so… are you okay? nothing too bad happened?” he asks, nervousness lacing his words.

“i am.” you reassure. “i didn’t get to the worst of the fighting. chamber and breach got pretty banged up, i think, but they’re alright too.”

“that’s good.” he hums thoughtfully. his eyes drift down to his hands that are nervously playing with each other. “after you get dressed, can we watch a movie?”

you laugh. “sure, babe.”

the two of you spend the next several minutes in a comfortable silence, listening to the water running in the shower. he hears the water stop, watches as your hand reaches out to grab your towel

“i’m gonna let you get dressed, any preference on a movie?”

“huh? oh, no. whatever you wanna watch is fine.”

he nods and shuts the door of your bathroom behind him, leaving you to get dressed. he makes his way over to your bed, grabbing the TV remote and searching for what he knows to be your favorite movie.

you exit the bathroom a few minutes later, clothes clinging to your still slightly-wet body. you smile at him. “sorry for taking so long, i needed that shower.”

“no worries.” he says.

he leans up to move the blanket on your side of the bed, holding it up for you to crawl into. you do as he seems to be asking, crawling under the blanket and snuggling close to him.

you don’t miss the way his arm snakes around your waist, pulling you close to him. his hold on you seems a bit together than usual today, but you don’t mind it.

[diamonddaze01]

The Somerset Affair Chapter 3: Promises Bathed in Moonlight

pairing: lsk x fem!reader genre: Bridgerton AU, friends to (?????) to eventual lovers, brother’s best friend, SLOWWWW BURNNN chapter wc: 8.8k warnings: alcohol consumption, societal expectations, crying, mentions of a panic attack (not being able to breathe), eventual smut, more to be added a/n: sorry sorry i know ch 3 took forever too lol // as always, ENORMOUS thanks to indi @wongyuseokie for this GORGEOUSSSS banner // and to my lovely betas shu @welcometomyoasis lou @tusswrites haneul @chanranghaeys

summary: maybe you really are well and truly alone.

comment to be tagged when chapters are posted, or join the fic taglist here! series masterlist

The First Year: Summer Age 19

The first season after that fateful night was like a hazy dream. When you returned to the social scene, the whispers followed: why had Lord Lee disappeared from your side, so abruptly and publicly, leaving you to stand alone in the wake of his departure?

You endured it with a forced smile, accepting dances from any man who offered. Seokmin, when you saw him, was always nearby yet achingly out of reach, just beyond the edge of the crowd, his gaze never straying to you. Minghao, perhaps sensing the fraught silence between you, would draw you into conversation whenever he could, his manner protective, his eyes wary.

The estate gardens were nothing short of stunning in the late spring. Bursts of red and yellow tulips stretched toward the sky, their vibrant hues softened only by the ivy draping from the nearby trellis. The whole scene was picturesque, brimming with life and warmth. Yet, to you, it held only shadows, echoes of laughter from a time that now felt far away.

You’d meant to pass by quickly, perhaps even avoid the gardens altogether, but the pull was magnetic, the memories nestled there too insistent to ignore. This had been your sanctuary, your haven of whispered secrets and boundless dreams. You had spent countless summer afternoons here with Seokmin, lying on the grass, watching clouds drift lazily by as he teased you with nonsense riddles and ridiculous tales. He’d always made you laugh—those moments had seemed to stretch endlessly, filled with the certainty that nothing would ever change.

But change it had.

Now, as you stood among the tulips, their bright faces tilted toward the sun, you felt as if you were the only one left in shadow. Each flower seemed to mock you, as if asking why you had come back when he was no longer here to share it with you. You could almost hear his laughter in the rustling leaves, a phantom sound that made your heart ache.

You allowed yourself one indulgent moment of memory, one small surrender to the warmth of the past. In that instant, you could almost feel his presence beside you, could almost hear him sigh as he lay back against the grass and urged you to do the same. Tulip, he’d called you once, likening you to the flowers here—delicate, bright, full of life. His voice drifted through your mind like a warm breeze, and you closed your eyes, feeling the bittersweet pang of loss settle deeper into your chest.

Then, a sudden sound cut through the quiet, and you froze. It was the low murmur of a familiar voice—Seokmin’s voice—wafting toward you from the entrance of the garden. You barely made out the words, some easy greeting exchanged with Minghao as the two approached. The cadence of his voice was softer now, more mature perhaps, but unmistakably his. In an instant, the fragile calm you’d managed to summon evaporated, replaced by a panicked urgency to flee.

You turned on your heel, lifting your skirts as you hurried toward a narrow, shaded path, heart pounding as if you were a trespasser in your own sanctuary. You slipped behind the thick ivy-covered trellis, your fingers clutching the delicate lace of your gloves as you pressed your back against the rough wood. There, hidden from sight, you held your breath, willing your heart to quiet, afraid he might hear it even from a distance.

He paused at the garden’s entrance, his voice carrying lightly on the breeze, mingling with the chirping of birds and the gentle rustle of leaves. It was a voice you had known too well, one that had once woven a thousand dreams in these very gardens. But now, standing there alone and concealed, all you could feel was the sharp edge of those dreams turned to dust.

You dared not look, dared not even breathe until his voice faded and the crunch of gravel beneath his feet grew distant. Only then did you step out from your hiding place, the scene around you as unchanged and pristine as ever. But it felt different, achingly empty. He was gone, and so, you realized, was something inside you.

Your shoulders slumped as you turned away from the gardens, swallowing against the emotion lodged in your throat. You would not come here again—at least, not alone.

That first year passed slowly, the memory of him shadowing you at every event, every garden, every dance, leaving you both haunted and empty.

The Second Year: Autumn Age 20

As autumn arrived, the weight of that lost season faded slightly, turning to something colder, something sharper. You found yourself no longer seeking him out at every ball. Instead, you steeled yourself, donning an unapproachable mask that suited you better with each passing day. Your brother had chosen to spend the season traveling, claiming that the sea salt of Grecian air was calling him. The absence of his protection meant that you had to sail the rough shores of that season alone – Minghao’s letters were frequent and welcomed, always ready to provide words of assurance from thousands of miles away. 

Your second season was to be markedly different—by your design and no one else’s. The naive enthusiasm of your first season had faded, replaced by a wariness that had hardened around you like a shell. Suitors still called upon you, though they were fewer and far between, and the gentlemen of impeccable standing, those your mother deemed suitable, grew distant with each passing event. They would approach with polite intentions, murmuring some pleasantry or another, only to bow and make haste to another part of the room where more receptive young ladies waited. 

Yet, for all the polite avoidance and empty conversation, there was Lord Yoon Jeonghan, the Viscount of Hastings. He was different—not at all the cold and detached nobleman that society often produced, nor the vapid fop more concerned with his cufflinks than his conversation. He was witty, charming even, and his remarks would often spark a laugh that you could scarcely suppress. A flicker of intrigue would alight in his eyes every time you spoke, as if you were unraveling a particularly delightful mystery, and for those brief moments, he made you almost forget.

Almost.

You felt his gaze often, lingering in the spaces between words, and sometimes, if you were honest with yourself, it was almost enough to ease the ache that had taken root in your chest. There was a certain warmth to his presence, a lightheartedness that let you slip free from the burdensome weight of the past. Your mother, ever vigilant, noticed his interest immediately. She seized upon his attentions with thinly veiled glee, her gaze often flickering between the two of you at gatherings, assessing, calculating. She would arrange you beside him at dinners, leave you in his company at the slightest opportunity, her encouragement subtle yet unmistakable.

Jeonghan would lean in close, his words laced with humor, often turning some mundane observation into something absurdly funny. And for a fleeting second, the laughter would come easily, a balm to the bruised and hidden parts of yourself. You allowed yourself to think, Maybe this could work.

But the quiet, hollow ache lingered, a constant reminder of the ghost you could not quite shake. And that ghost was Seokmin.

Seokmin, who watched from across the room, his gaze burning, perceptive as ever. He was polite, distant even, but his presence was always there, like the flicker of candlelight that neither dimmed nor died. You could feel it most keenly when you danced with other men, swirling across the floor to the strains of violins and cellos. Once, as you stepped onto the ballroom floor with Jeonghan, you felt Seokmin’s gaze settle on you from across the room. The intensity of it was enough to make your skin prickle, and suddenly you were painfully aware of every step, every turn.

The first misstep was subtle—a slight stumble over the Viscount’s foot. But as you met Seokmin’s eyes, his brow lifted ever so slightly, a smirk hovering just on the edge of his mouth. That subtle, amused expression set your pulse racing in a way you would never confess. And in your distracted state, you stumbled again, this time nearly losing your balance. Jeonghan chuckled, mistaking your lapse for some charming display of nervousness, too oblivious to realize the true reason for your faltering steps.

Seokmin’s gaze, however, saw straight through you. His smirk was knowing, almost taunting, as though he could see past every mask, every effort you’d put into your newfound resolve. It was maddening—the way he could still get under your skin, the way he seemed to enjoy watching you unravel, even if only for a second. The lingering effects of that look stayed with you long after the music ended, clinging to you like perfume.

And so, you spent the season caught between two worlds. Lord Yoon, with his charm and his lightheartedness, who could ease the bitterness that lay thick upon your heart if only for a while. And Seokmin, a relentless presence, haunting you from across every ballroom and garden, his gaze a tether you could never quite sever. It was a delicate dance, one you performed night after night, hoping, in vain, that one day you would not feel his eyes on you at all.

The afternoon sun angled low over the estate, bathing the drawing room in a cool October light that poured through the high windows, softening the sharp edges of the day. Minghao had just returned from his travels and had brought back a novel he thought you would enjoy—Jane Eyre, by a Miss Brontë. The air was thick with the quiet thrill of this gift, the promise of evenings spent lost in its pages, and you had just begun to express your excitement when Minghao, with his usual calm, announced that Seokmin had accompanied him.

You schooled your face to remain pleasant, though your pulse quickened at the mention of his name. And indeed, there he stood by the door, his posture polite yet tense, hands clasped behind his back, and eyes dark with some unreadable emotion. He offered a slight bow, his gaze fixed on you even as you looked firmly at your brother.

"Did you know," Minghao began, oblivious to the tension in the room as he handed you the book, "that the author published it under a man’s name? Some say it’s because she thought her work would be dismissed otherwise."

You managed a small smile, allowing yourself the momentary reprieve of this topic. “Thank you, Minghao,” you replied, fingers grazing the embossed cover. “I’ll cherish it. It sounds wonderful.”

Across the room, Seokmin shifted, clearing his throat. "Do you find time to read often these days?" His voice was tentative, a hint of hope or maybe familiarity clinging to the question, as if reaching for a bridge long burned.

Your reply was smooth and immediate, though you kept your gaze firmly on Minghao, as if Seokmin had merely been a ghost in the room. "I make time, yes. It’s quite necessary, given the, ah… limited options for conversation."

A faint hint of color rose to Seokmin’s cheeks, but he quickly smothered whatever response he had been about to make. Minghao glanced between you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he pieced together the simmering tension, the edges of a puzzle he hadn’t been around to see formed.

There was a brief pause, heavy as stones, before Seokmin tried again. "Do you still ride out to the southern fields? I remember…" He hesitated, his words trailing off before he finished. “The views from the hilltops there were always lovely in the fall.”

It was a simple question, a nod to a pastime you had once enjoyed, but the memories it evoked—the two of you racing across the meadows, laughing breathlessly under the open sky, sharing quiet moments on that hilltop he spoke of—all felt too sharp, too close. You tightened your grip on the book, the rough binding grounding you in the present.

"Occasionally," you murmured, as if speaking to no one in particular. Your tone was clipped, devoid of warmth, and you let the silence stretch, long enough for the weight of his words to fade. After a beat, you forced yourself to stand, smoothing the fabric of your dress as you prepared to excuse yourself. “Please, if you’ll excuse me.”

Seokmin’s face barely shifted, yet the flicker of disappointment that crossed his features was unmistakable. "Wait, please—" he began, his hand reaching out as if to stop you. “I… wanted to know if you might—”

You looked over at Minghao, not giving Seokmin the satisfaction of meeting his gaze. “Thank you for the book, brother,” you said softly. “I’ll look forward to discussing it with you when I’ve read it.” And with that, you turned, leaving the drawing room before Seokmin could finish his thought.

You could feel his eyes on your back, a silent, unyielding weight as you retreated, but you pushed down the churning emotions in your chest.

Later, your mother found you in the library, a faintly exasperated look in her eye. "What has possessed you to act so sharply towards Lord Lee? He is a friend of your brother’s, and a gentleman. I hardly think it was necessary to snub him quite so… thoroughly."

"I simply wasn’t inclined to entertain him," you replied, not lifting your gaze from the book you had barely managed to focus on since leaving the drawing room. “It was not my intention to be rude, Mother.”

She pursed her lips, eyes narrowing. “He asked after you very kindly. And if you cannot manage the simple courtesy of conversation, well…” Her sigh was laden with disappointment, tinged with the faintest trace of resignation. “It does make things rather difficult for you, don’t you think?”

You didn’t respond, clamping your lips shut and focusing on the words of Jane Eyre as if they might hold an escape. What could you say? That politeness was a currency you could not afford to spend on him? That every pleasantry only made the knife in your back twist a little deeper?

There was nothing to be done, and so you said nothing at all. The book lay heavy in your lap, unread, as your mother’s gaze lingered a moment longer, her silence more cutting than words.

The Third Year: Winter Age 21

The winter air nipped at every inch of bare skin as you stepped out of the carriage and into the towering, grand hall where that night’s ball was being held. Snow blanketed the world outside, a thick layer that muffled everything it touched, leaving only the crunch of footsteps and the soft murmur of the wind. The frost bit through your gloves, but it was nothing compared to the cold lodged deep within your chest. You drew yourself up and stepped into the hall, a practiced smile on your face as you greeted the hosts and exchanged pleasantries.

Inside, the ball was already in full swing. Laughter and music filled the air, weaving an intoxicating tapestry of distraction. You navigated through clusters of guests with practiced ease, inclining your head and making idle conversation that barely skimmed the surface. You had come to know the routines well, slipping into this role as though it were armor: a mask of charm, a shield of grace. It kept you safe, even as it kept others at arm’s length.

But then, just as you were making your way toward a friend by the window, you spotted him—Seokmin, across the room. He was surrounded by a small group of gentlemen, his laughter carrying over the din as he shared some amusing story. His cheeks were flushed from the warmth, eyes crinkling at the corners in that way you’d once adored. For a moment, a whisper of memory drifted to you unbidden—those nights by the garden, his laughter mingling with the soft hum of summer crickets, a harmony you’d taken for granted. The sight of him now, seemingly unaffected by the hollow ache that had lodged itself so firmly within you, twisted something in your chest.

As though he could feel your gaze, his eyes turned toward you, catching you unprepared. His laughter faded, and for a moment, the room seemed to still. There was something in his gaze—a flicker of recognition, regret, perhaps. Or something more resigned, an acceptance of the chasm that had grown between you. He made no move toward you; there was only a slight nod, a silent acknowledgement of… something. You couldn’t name it, and you didn’t want to try.

It was his easy return to conversation that undid you. The way he turned back to his companions, laughing once more, as if nothing had changed, as if the years you’d spent trying to bury the echoes of that ball could be erased so simply. The laughter that once filled you with warmth now rang hollow in your ears, a reminder of all that was lost and all that could never be reclaimed.

The walls of the ballroom began to feel oppressive, the cloying warmth of bodies and perfume suffocating. You pressed a gloved hand to your temple, feigning discomfort as you turned to your nearest acquaintance. “I’m afraid I’m not feeling well,” you murmured, a faint tremor in your voice that you hoped was undetectable.

“Oh, my dear, are you all right? You do look rather pale,” she said with concern, her eyes scanning your face. “Perhaps some fresh air?”

“Yes,” you managed, barely holding together the thin fabric of your composure. “Yes, that may be best.”

With a polite smile and promises to catch up at the next event, you drifted toward the doorway, slipping through the crowd as unobtrusively as you could. The cold air in the entry hall was a shock, but you welcomed it, letting it bite into your cheeks and ground you.

Soon enough, you found yourself in your room, finally alone. The silent darkness enveloped you, and for the first time that night, you let yourself drop the mask. You sank into the nearest armchair, clutching the armrests as if they could anchor you. Outside, snowflakes drifted lazily past the window, catching the moonlight like shards of glass. There was no warmth, no comfort in the scene, only the lingering shadows of a memory that refused to fade.

You had no energy to reach for a book, nor did you bother lighting the fireplace. Instead, you sat, letting the silence swell around you, filling the empty spaces that had been left in Seokmin’s wake. Your gaze lingered on the frost etching delicate patterns across the glass, and for a moment, you wondered if he was still at the ball, still laughing, still untouched by the winter that had settled so deep within you.

It felt almost foolish to mourn something you had lost so long ago, but as the hours slipped by, you couldn’t bring yourself to shake the feeling.

The bitterness reached new heights that year. Your relationship with Minghao, however, began to shift. He sensed your resolve, noticed the way you shrank from any mention of Seokmin, and quietly took up the role of your champion. He became your shield at social gatherings, a polite, steadfast presence whenever your mother hinted at your dwindling prospects or a suitor left you standing alone. Your mother’s eyes, ever watchful, lingered upon you with a barely hidden concern, her gaze darting to the eligible gentlemen nearby and then to you with that familiar, expectant look.

“You know,” she began in a low voice, “if you were only a touch more… approachable, it might encourage the young men here to consider you more seriously.”

You forced a small smile, the words heavy and stale from years of repetition. “I’ll do my best, Mama.”

But before she could respond, a familiar voice joined the conversation.

“Ah, I see my sister is charming everyone tonight,” Minghao remarked smoothly as he appeared beside you, offering a short bow to your mother. “May I borrow her for a moment?”

Your mother’s gaze softened—she had never worried over Minghao as she did with you, and his title afforded him some measure of leniency that you could never claim. She nodded, though her expression remained faintly expectant as she watched you both step away.

Minghao led you toward the edge of the ballroom, his arm steady around yours as you wove through the crowd. Once there, he turned to you with a look that spoke of both amusement and concern.

“You looked ready to flee,” he observed, a trace of a smile in his eyes. “Would you like a few minutes’ reprieve?”

You sighed, grateful for his intervention. “I was beginning to feel like a prized cow at market,” you replied, tone dry. “Thank you for sparing me.”

He chuckled softly, but his expression grew more serious as he studied you. “I noticed Mother watching you rather closely. And I know her remarks can be… persistent.”

“Persistent is a kind way of putting it,” you replied, your voice just above a whisper. “She insists that my chances dwindle each season, that—” You cut yourself off, pressing your lips together to hold back the frustration that threatened to spill over.

Minghao’s gaze softened, and he sighed, reaching out to adjust the lace of your cuff in a gentle, brotherly gesture. “You’ve nothing to prove to her or to anyone else here,” he said quietly. “If you feel uncomfortable, I’ll be here to see you through the night.”

Despite the stifling heat of the ballroom, his presence felt like a breath of fresh air—a lifeline against the unrelenting pressure of society and its expectations.

“And if any gentleman dares to turn his back on you tonight,” he added, his voice adopting a playful lilt, “I shall personally see to it that he regrets it.”

The corners of your mouth lifted into a small, appreciative smile. Minghao’s protectiveness was a comfort you rarely admitted to needing, but tonight, you couldn’t help feeling grateful that he saw past your composed exterior to the worry lingering beneath.

The music shifted to a slower waltz, and he extended his hand with a knowing smile. “Shall we dance, sister? A waltz is far more agreeable than enduring Mother’s lectures, I assure you.”

You accepted his hand, letting him lead you to the center of the room. As you twirled together, the swirling silks and laughter around you faded into the background, leaving only the familiar warmth of his presence.

After a moment, he leaned in, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “And for what it’s worth,” he murmured, “you have no need of any of these foppish gentlemen. They should consider themselves lucky if they could win even a passing glance from you.”

The sincerity in his words soothed you, and for a brief moment, the ballroom was no longer a daunting place, nor its occupants a source of anxiety. Minghao’s quiet strength steadied you, his steadfast support as dependable as the rhythm of the waltz beneath your feet.

Yet, even with Minghao’s silent support, Seokmin’s laughter ringing through the ballroom haunted you, echoing a reminder of what you once had and what you had lost.

Across the room, your gaze flickered to a familiar figure, the Lord Viscount Yoon, the lightness of his presence breaking through your somber thoughts. He had been different—his clever banter had a way of making even the most mundane topics feel lively and engaging. When he spoke, it was as if he was inviting you into an exclusive circle of shared secrets and laughter, making you momentarily forget the weight of expectations pressing down on you. 

Even now, he stood amidst a group of gentlemen, engaging in light banter that sent ripples of laughter through the crowd. A flicker of intrigue would alight in his eyes every time he caught your gaze, but he looked away just as quickly, as if your newfound prickly attitude was enough to scare him away. 

Over time, your disinterest had made him less willing to approach you. Though he had shown interest the previous year, the glow in his eyes now held a tinge of uncertainty, as if he had begun to doubt whether your heart remained open to him. Your mother, ever vigilant, noticed his hesitance, her gaze flickering between the two of you at gatherings, assessing, calculating.

“Perhaps if I were a bit more approachable,” you murmured to Minghao, who nodded thoughtfully, his gaze drifting toward Jeonghan.

“Sometimes, it takes more than just approachability,” he replied quietly. “He is a good man, but the more you withdraw, the more he may think he should step back.”

You let the thought linger in your mind, but it was soon drowned out by the sight of Seokmin across the room, leaning in to laugh politely with another woman, a vision of laughter and ease that made your heart twist painfully. The vibrant atmosphere of the ball blurred around you, filled with the laughter of others while your own heart sank, caught between the past and the possibility of a future—one you feared might never be yours again.

The Fourth Year: Spring Age 22

Spring came late that year, but the blossoms in the garden were the most vibrant you had ever seen. Tulips, bright and full of life, lined the path outside your drawing room window. Their sight brought an unwelcome reminder of Seokmin, as if they were mocking the pain that had dulled over the years but never truly healed.

One fateful morning, Seokmin arrived at the estate again, waiting for Minghao in the drawing room. You entered the room unaware of his presence, intending to retrieve a letter you had left on the table. The shock of finding him there, standing alone, was enough to root you to the spot.

He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and longing. “How have you been?” he asked, breaking the silence, his tone formal but softened by something more vulnerable.

“I try to stay busy,” you replied, refusing to meet his gaze, your own fixed on the tulips outside the window, as if they alone could fortify your resolve. The way they leaned toward the glass, reaching out, seemed a cruel reminder of what you could never reach. You clung to your indifference, fearing that one look at him would undo you.

“Ah,” he replied, his voice barely a murmur. “I see.”

The silence was unbearable, stretching long and wide between you, filled with all the words you had left unsaid. For the first time, you could sense his unease, as though he, too, felt the weight of everything that had come between you. You imagined he might say more, but instead, he fell silent, unwilling or unable to breach the chasm.

When Minghao finally entered the room, his gaze shifted from Seokmin to you, sensing the tension immediately. He offered a warm, lighthearted greeting that brought some relief, yet you felt exposed, as though Seokmin could still see every last flicker of pain beneath your carefully controlled exterior. Minghao’s easy conversation filled the room, and you seized on it as a lifeline, grateful that the moment had passed.

But as you left the drawing room, something inside you felt irrevocably changed. The wound you thought had healed now ached anew, as raw and fresh as ever.

Age 22

The season has turned again, and as you step into the grand ballroom, you are met with a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds that fill the air with an electric energy. The chandelier overhead sparkles like a constellation of stars, its crystal droplets refracting the warm glow of candlelight that dances across the room. The polished wooden floors gleam underfoot, reflecting the vivid hues of the gowns that swirl around you like petals caught in a gentle breeze.

After five seasons on the market, the whispers of society have cast you in the role of a spinster. No longer the young debutante brimming with promise, you now find yourself almost a chaperone to the eager, wide-eyed debutantes navigating their first seasons. Your newest charge, Sohee, is a whirlwind of youthful exuberance, her bright pink dress adorned with intricate floral appliqués that seem to bloom against her pale skin. The bodice sparkles with tiny beads, catching the light as she twirls, her laughter ringing like bells. You can see the nervous energy in her movements, the way her hands flutter as she points out various gentlemen across the ballroom.

“Oh, look at Lord Lee—what a fine dancer!” she exclaims, her voice bubbling with excitement as she gazes at Seokmin. His deep navy jacket contrasts sharply with the pristine white of his shirt, and the cravat around his neck is tied with an effortless elegance that only enhances his charm. The way he carries himself, relaxed and confident, seems to draw the attention of everyone around him.

You try to mask the bitterness rising within you as you observe him. Seokmin entertains Sohee’s infatuated chatter with polite smiles, his eyes sparkling with amusement. For a fleeting moment, you are grateful that she has captured his attention, but then the weight of your own feelings crashes over you like a cold wave. The ache in your chest deepens as memories flood your mind—long summers spent chasing fireflies, laughter echoing through the fields as he playfully pursued you with a worm on a stick, or the way he would reward your sharp tongue with that unguarded, carefree laughter.

As if drawn by some invisible thread, Seokmin’s gaze suddenly shifts, catching yours from across the room. Your heart leaps into your throat, a jolt of surprise and embarrassment coursing through you. Mortified that he has noticed your lingering stare, you quickly avert your eyes, but the warmth of your cheeks betrays you. You want to disappear into the vibrant crowd, to escape the intensity of your emotions that seem to swell with every passing second. Yet, even as you force yourself to engage with Sohee’s exuberant chatter, you can feel the weight of Seokmin’s gaze resting on you, a silent reminder of everything you’ve lost and the connection you once shared.

It is a cruel twist of fate, standing on the sidelines while young girls like Sohee chase the dreams you once held so dear. You find yourself in this role, a guide for the naive and hopeful, all the while wishing that you could feel that same thrill of possibility. The grand ballroom, alive with laughter and music, feels both enchanting and suffocating, each dance a reminder of the joys that have slipped through your fingers.

As the music swells and couples begin to sway across the polished floor, you catch glimpses of Sohee and Seokmin amidst the swirling gowns and dapper jackets. They move with an innocent delight that contrasts starkly with the weight of your unspoken feelings. Sohee beams up at him, her laughter bright and infectious, and for a moment, the sight softens the edges of your heartache.

Just then, you feel a presence beside you, and when you turn, you find Viscount Yoon Jeonghan standing there, a knowing smile dancing on his lips. His appearance is as striking as ever; his tailored coat hugs his frame perfectly, and the delicate embroidery along the cuffs catches the light, giving him an almost ethereal glow. His hair falls elegantly around his face, framing those sharp features that always seem to hold a hint of mischief.

“They make quite a pair, do they not?” he murmurs, his voice smooth and warm as he gestures subtly toward the young couple. His eyes sparkle with a mix of humor and curiosity, and for a moment, you’re reminded of the lighthearted conversations you once shared, the way he could lift your spirits without even trying.

You glance back at Sohee and Seokmin, your heart twisting at the sight of them. “It seems so,” you reply, your tone nonchalant, though the bitterness seeps through. “She is quite taken with him.”

Jeonghan’s gaze lingers on the two, but then shifts back to you, an amused glimmer in his eyes. “And yet, I believe it’s Seokmin’s charm that keeps her so enchanted. He has a way of making everyone feel special, does he not?” His words are light, but there’s an underlying sincerity that pulls you in.

“Especially the younger ones,” you add, your voice tinged with a hint of sarcasm. You cross your arms, an instinctive barrier against the swell of emotions threatening to break free. Jeonghan tilts his head, studying you with an intensity that makes you self-conscious.

“Ah, but don’t let that dampen your spirits,” he says, a teasing lilt to his voice. “I suspect that there’s still magic left in your own waltz.”

You scoff softly, trying to hide the warmth spreading across your cheeks. “I’ve had my dance, my Lord. It’s only right that I help guide the next generation.”

He nods, as if he understands more than you’ve revealed. “But it doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy a little bit of the spotlight yourself, does it?” His gaze holds yours for a moment longer, an invitation hanging in the air between you.

Taking a deep breath, you accept his invitation with a gentle nod. Jeonghan extends his hand, and with a sense of determination, you place yours in his. The moment you step onto the dance floor, a familiar spark ignites between you. As you move, you find the rhythm of the waltz is an intoxicating escape from the weight of the evening.

His touch is confident yet gentle, guiding you with an ease that sends warmth through your veins. You laugh softly at his playful quips, the way he effortlessly spins you and twirls you beneath the glimmering chandelier. The surrounding laughter and chatter fade into a soft background hum as the two of you lose yourselves in the moment.

But just as you begin to forget the lingering ache in your heart, a commotion draws your attention away. You glance over to find Sohee in an animated conversation with Seokmin, her eyes wide with excitement. She appears to be swooning—her cheeks flushed a lovely shade of pink as she clutches her fan, fluttering it in the air as if to cool herself.

And then it happens. As the waltz concludes and the music reaches its crescendo, Seokmin leans down to retrieve Sohee's fan, which had slipped from her grasp in her flurry of emotion. The way he effortlessly picks it up and hands it back to her is undeniably charming. She gazes up at him with unrestrained adoration, and in that moment, it’s as if the entire ballroom falls silent, the air thick with their connection.

Your heart sinks, the joyous moment turning into a bitter reminder of your own unfulfilled longing. You feel the weight of your own feelings crashing down, suffocating the lightness of the dance you just shared with Jeonghan. The innocence of Sohee’s crush, her delight at Seokmin’s attention, stabs at something deep within you, twisting the knife of your heartache just a little deeper.

“Lord Lee is such a gentleman,” Sohee breathes, her eyes sparkling with admiration. You try to smile, but the corners of your mouth feel heavy, the happiness you should feel for her overshadowed by the ache in your chest.

“Quite the pair, indeed,” Jeonghan murmurs beside you, his tone shifting slightly. You glance up at him, but the amusement in his eyes has dimmed, replaced with a knowing sympathy that only intensifies your discomfort.

“I should—” you start, desperate to escape the scene unfolding before you, but Jeonghan catches your gaze, his expression serious yet gentle.

“Are you alright?” he asks quietly, concern lacing his voice.

You swallow hard, nodding even though you can feel the tears threatening to brim. “Yes, of course. It’s just… a reminder of what I’ve lost.”

Jeonghan’s eyes soften, understanding radiating from him. “Then let’s step outside for a moment, shall we? A breath of fresh air might do you good.”

You nod again, grateful for his presence, and together you slip away from the dancing couples, leaving behind the laughter and music, hoping the cool night air will ease the weight on your heart. As you step outside, the crisp night air envelops you like a silken shawl, drawing you away from the swirling gaiety of the ballroom. The coolness is a welcome reprieve from the warmth of bodies and laughter, and you relish the soft caress of the breeze against your skin, bringing with it a gentle rustling of leaves that whispers secrets from the garden. The scent of blooming jasmine and sweet honeysuckle mingles in the air, heady and intoxicating, wrapping around you like a lover’s embrace.

You move to the stone balcony, where the moon hangs low in the sky, its silvery glow spilling over the manicured gardens below, illuminating the delicate petals of the flowers that sway gently in the evening light. The grass is cool beneath your feet, a delightful contrast to the warmth of your silk gown, and you can feel the slight dampness of dew beginning to settle on the earth, a reminder of the approaching night.

Fidgeting with the lace hem of your gown, you feel the fabric whisper against your ankles, the soft silk cool to the touch. Your heart races as you catch sight of Jeonghan stepping out to join you, his tall frame silhouetted against the glow of the moonlight. He regards you with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.

“You love him,” he states matter-of-factly, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

“I beg your pardon?” You turn to him, surprise etched across your features. Your fingers tighten around the delicate lace, twisting it nervously as if it could shield you from his piercing gaze.

“It is nothing to shy away from,” he continues, his tone surprisingly earnest. “I have observed the two of you for years, engaging in this delightful dance around each other. You love him. That is a fact. Do not shy away from it—love is a beautiful thing, even if it is tinged with loss.”

You force a laugh, the sound almost bitter. “You sound as though you speak from experience.”

“And if I am?” Jeonghan counters, his brow arching slightly, inviting you to delve deeper into the conversation.

“Why, then,” you reply, your heart racing with a mixture of intrigue and dread, “it cannot be that only my secrets are shared tonight.”

“Lady Choi,” he says, the shift in his tone unmistakable, as though he is unearthing a long-buried truth.

“The general’s wife?” you ask, the name escaping your lips with an air of disbelief.

His eyes darken, and for a moment, the lightness of the evening is overshadowed by the weight of his admission. “She was mine first,” he admits, his voice heavy with unspoken emotion. “But her father—he was a cruel man—wished to marry her off before I ever had the chance to court her properly, as adults.”

You draw a sharp breath, the air suddenly feeling thick and heavy around you. “Lord Yoon, it is a sin to desire another man’s wife,” you say softly, your fingers trembling slightly as they continue to play with the delicate fabric of your gown.

“And it is a sin to pine after what cannot be yours,” he replies, a note of melancholy creeping into his voice. “It seems we are both trapped in a most unfortunate dilemma, Miss Xu.”

You hesitate, the truth of his words resonating within you like the toll of a distant bell. You find yourself gazing at the garden below, the moonlight casting long shadows across the path. “I… suppose.”

His expression softens, the tension between you easing slightly as he steps closer, the distance shrinking as if the night conspires to bring you together. “I have an idea, if you are amenable to it,” he proposes, his voice low and conspiratorial.

You raise an eyebrow, curiosity piquing despite the tumult of your thoughts. “I suppose I have no choice but to hear it.”

“Let us… have an arrangement of sorts.”

Your mind races, the absurdity of the suggestion both ludicrous and strangely enticing. “An… arrangement?” you repeat, incredulous, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“A loveless marriage is better than none at all,” he declares, his eyes glinting with a mixture of seriousness and mischief.

You laugh, unable to contain yourself. “You jest. Have you indulged in more champagne than you can manage?”

“I assure you, I am as clear-headed as the sky on a summer’s day,” he insists, maintaining eye contact with a steady gaze that makes your heart flutter. “We are friends, are we not?”

“Friends? My lord, we have danced a few times, to my mother’s delight,” you reply, a teasing lilt in your voice, though your heart feels heavier with the weight of his words.

He feigns a look of mock hurt, placing a hand theatrically over his heart. “You wound me! We have enjoyed such spirited conversations! I do consider you a friend. And a marriage with a friend—a viscount at that—is nothing to scoff at. Have you given no thought to your future? What happens when your dear brother finds a wife and you are no longer his primary concern?”

The reality of his words settles over you, sending a shiver down your spine. You search the moonlit path, pondering the path that lies ahead. “Just… think about it,” he presses, his voice earnest, the night seemingly holding its breath.

The silence stretches between you, the world around you fading as you consider the proposal. You raise your gaze to his, a flurry of emotions swirling in your heart.

But as the moment hangs in the air, he steps back, creating a chasm of space between you once more. The hope in his eyes flickers like the stars above, illuminating the path of unspoken possibilities.

With a lingering glance, Jeonghan turns to leave, the quiet night reclaiming its stillness. Alone now, you stand beneath the watchful gaze of the moon, a companion that seems to mock your predicament, its light dancing across your skin like a playful breeze. The weight of the evening settles around you, the possibilities of what could have been lingering like a sweet perfume in the air. The garden around you, fragrant and alive, seems to echo your turmoil, the gentle rustle of leaves and the soft chirping of crickets a reminder that you are not as alone as you feel—but still, the loneliness wraps around you like a heavy cloak, suffocating and inescapable.

The Queen’s Garden is even more stunning at twilight, an exquisite tapestry of flora bathed in the soft, golden light of the setting sun. Lanterns hang from the branches of ancient trees, casting a warm glow that mingles with the fading daylight, creating a magical ambiance that enchants every guest present. Lush greenery and blooming flowers adorn the paths, their fragrant scents—jasmine, roses, and honeysuckle—drifting through the air like a sweet serenade.

As you weave your way through the throngs of elegantly dressed nobles, the cool evening breeze brushes against your skin, a refreshing contrast to the warmth radiating from the lively crowd. The sounds of laughter and spirited conversation wrap around you, punctuated by the delicate notes of a string quartet nestled among the trees, their melodies intertwining with the soft rustle of leaves overhead.

Amidst the gaiety, you scan the faces around you, searching for Sohee. Her absence hangs like a whisper, pulling at your awareness.

Just then, your gaze lands on Lord Yoon Jeonghan, standing across the garden. His tall frame commands attention, and as you meet his eyes, he offers you a teasing wink, a smirk dancing on his lips. He raises his glass in a casual salute, a playful reminder of the “arrangement” he proposed only weeks prior.

But as you turn to continue your search, you hear a soft rustle behind the curtains of the powder room. A frown creases your brow, and with a sense of trepidation, you pull the curtains aside.

What you find steals the breath from your lungs: Sohee, her dress slightly askew, caught in an intimate embrace with Seokmin, hidden from view. Time seems to freeze as you process the scene before you, the vibrant colors of the garden fading into a blur.

They don’t notice your entrance, the warmth of their laughter drifting toward you, blissfully unaware of the precariousness of their moment. A wave of urgency washes over you; you step back, the laughter and music of the ball dimming behind you, overwhelmed by the tension in the air.

The cool mask of indifference you wear feels like a fragile façade, barely holding up against the storm of emotions roiling within you. Every heartbeat thunders in your ears, a rhythmic reminder of the tension crackling in the air. You force yourself to breathe slowly, deliberately, the sweet scent of blooming flowers mingling with the sharp tang of night air filling your lungs.

You clear your throat, breaking the stillness that envelops the hidden corner where Sohee and Seokmin stand. Your posture is straight, your chin lifted, but your palms feel clammy against the lace of your gown.

“Sohee,” you say, your voice steady and cool, as though dipped in ice, “you should return to your Mama. If anyone else had seen you like this, it would ruin you.” The words hang in the air, each syllable heavy with consequence. You hold her gaze, your eyes fierce, willing her to understand the gravity of the situation.

Sohee’s eyes widen, vulnerability flickering across her face like candlelight. The flush staining her cheeks deepens as she processes your words, a mixture of mortification and gratitude washing over her. She nods, biting her lip, and you watch as she slips past you, shoulders squared despite the embarrassment, grateful for your discretion.

Once she disappears back into the sea of guests, the atmosphere shifts. It’s just you and Seokmin now, the weight of the moment pressing down like a thick fog, the sounds of the ballroom fading into a dull roar. For the first time in years, you stand alone with him, the years of silence and distance palpable between you.

You turn to leave, the flutter of your gown trailing behind you, but his voice stops you, soft and tentative, cutting through the tension like a knife. “Please, don’t go.”

You whirl around, disbelief etched across your features. “Why on earth? What are you doing here?” Your heart pounds, and your fists clench at your sides, the intensity of the moment clawing at your composure.

He takes a step closer, the distance between you shrinking, but the space feels charged with electricity. The use of that name—“tulip”—falls from his lips like a spark igniting a fire inside you. Anger bubbles to the surface, your fingers curling into fists. “You have no right to call me that anymore.”

His expression shifts, desperation creeping into his tone as he opens his palms, a gesture of vulnerability. “It’s been four years, and you still won’t give me the chance to explain myself.”

Your chest tightens at the memories, sharp and unyielding, a storm of emotions swirling within you. “So was it because Minghao told you to?”

His gaze darkens, the flicker of regret visible in his eyes. “Yes, but you need to—”

“Good evening, Seokmin.” The words slip from your mouth like ice, cold and final. You turn to leave, your back straight but your heart racing, and he reaches for you, fingers brushing against your arm like a whisper.

You jerk away, anger and hurt surging through you, the fabric of your dress catching in the air as you turn. “Please, stay,” he begs, his voice thick with emotion, almost desperate. “Stay and let me explain—”

You shake your head slowly, each word heavy with the weight of unspoken history. “You lost the right to that four years ago.” Your voice softens, but the resolve behind it remains, a quiet storm ready to break. In a flurry of lace and silk, you turn on your heel, the sound of your footsteps muffled by the thick grass as you leave him standing there, a distant silhouette against the vibrant backdrop of the garden.

The night air feels cooler as you weave through the crowd, your heart pounding in your chest like a war drum. You seek solace in the bustling ballroom, where laughter and music swirl around you, a cacophony that drowns out the echo of your heartache. The warmth of the candles flickers against your skin, the soft glow momentarily comforting amidst the chaos.

The crowd shifts around you, a blur of color and laughter, but everything feels muted—distant—as you navigate back toward the main hall. Your heart still pounds, each beat a reminder of the encounter that lingers, bitter as smoke. And then, across the room, a familiar pair of eyes finds yours: Jeonghan. His gaze is intent, assessing, and as he raises his glass to you with an amused smirk, his words from weeks before echo in your mind: “It is a sin to pine after what cannot be yours.”

The decision is instant, unbidden, like the snap of a thread pulled too tight. Steeling yourself, you weave through the crowd toward him, your mind clearing with each step. Jeonghan turns slightly as you approach, his attention shifting from the men he’d been conversing with. You stop just a breath away, feeling the weight of the moment settle around you, even as laughter and chatter fill the air.

“My lord,” you say, voice steady as a blade.

He raises an eyebrow, a faint smile playing at the corner of his mouth. “Yes, Miss Xu?” His eyes gleam in the low light, the gold of the candle flames reflecting in them. “I must say, you look rather lovely in this garden.”

“Yes.” The word is simple, yet it feels like a vow, a quiet certainty.

His smile falters for just a second, replaced by a glimmer of surprise in his eyes before he quickly recovers. He leans in slightly, his voice softened but no less intent.

“Yes?”

“Yes,” you reply, your voice calm but resolute. “I shall marry you.”

Jeonghan’s expression settles into something unreadable, a flicker of surprise replaced by the slightest tilt of a smile. He inclines his head, the elegant motion drawing him closer, as though sealing the moment between you.

“A wise decision, Miss Xu,” he murmurs, his gaze never leaving yours. The sounds of the garden around you blur into silence, the perfume of roses and night-blooming jasmine heavy on the air, and though the world presses on with its merriment, this quiet promise, made in the hush of the queen’s garden, feels irrevocable.

Tagging: @kibs-and-bits@moondustmemories@shinwonderful@ivehypnosis@gwend0lyne@thestoryofana13@mellowamour@blissedjoon@begentlewithme-please @xabsolutelynothingx @reiofsuns2001 @mngyulvrs @mooniewrld @archivistworld @lexyraeworld @ateez-atiny380 @walkinganxiety01 @lovecleastrange @uriguyeok @nenojaems @carefully325 @meowmeowminnie @ts19009 @flickhurstyles

[impossiblycolorfulpanda]

The way Bryke treats Zutara shippers in general is just slightly disgusting. Making fun of them whenever the opportunity arises and using the ship as the butt of jokes too many times like… that’s a solid 70% of your fanbse you’re making fun of. They’re the reason you’re even on the map. Shut up Bryke. I don’t know about 70% of the fanbase, but even if it were only a small portion it’s still just…rude and unprofessional to mock your fans? I think about this a lot because I was 16 when the show ended and I know a lot of other Zutara shippers were also teenage girls, and Mike and Bryan were adults. Two grown men making fun of teenage girls who liked the show and the characters they had created. I don’t care how “obnoxious” some of the fans might have been to them - and I’m sure there were fans who were also out of line - but Mike and Bryan were the adults and they chose to act like children, and mean, spiteful children at that.

Ya telling me, and you know what else? They are a big reason why Zutara is so popular in the first place. Bryke are the primary showrunners, what they say goes, they are in charge of approving/allowing what scene goes in the series.

They didn't have to make Zuko say "I'll save you from the pirates" right before trying to uncharacteristically bargain with Katara with an uncharacteristically clam demeaner while unintentionally proposing to her, since the necklace reveals to be a betrothal necklace.

They didn't have to let Zuko and Katara be locked in a cave together with crystals that almost look similar to the crystals from the cave of two lovers. They could've been locked in two jail cells far away from each other.

Speaking of which, Oma and Shu didn't have to be colored red and and blue respectively in one of the flashback scenes (the red one even looked like Ozai) and have their respective nations be at war against each other. You could tell they really, really wanted that story to parallel to Kataang but did a piss poor job of it. For one, Aang and Katara's nations never fought each other, not like how the Fire Nation and Water Tribes were going at it.

Zuko didn't have to be vulnerable with Katara in that cave and briefly explain his banishment and still act calm around her. She didn't have to offer to heal her scar with the only spirit water she had. Jet's ghost be like. "Are you kidding me?! Thanks a lot!" Katara didn't have to be the very first person to touch his scar before bringing the water out and Zuko didn't have to let her touch it and neither of them had to stand their for 5 seconds as the music amps up.

Katara understandably threatened to waste Zuko if he looks even slightly suspicious, and yet she pays no mind with Zuko bringing both Aang and Sokka to life threatening side-quests beyond Katara's supervision, both of which end with Aang getting over his pyrophobia and Katara and Sokka being reunited with their father and Sokka reunited with his girlfriend. Bryke let all of this happen.

Zuko didn't have to be the one to give Katara the means to find emotional closure and finally overcome her trauma. Katara didn't have to open up to him about the much more grisly details about her mother's death and have Zuko compliment her mother's bravery, all before Katara finally decides to forgive Zuko.

They didn't have to have June tease about Katara and Zuko dating multiple times. They didn't have to allow Zuko and Katara share the "parental figure for the gaang" mantle. They didn't have to spend the last scene Aang and Katara have before making out with them having another heated argument while Zuko and Katara spent their time working together to usurp Zuko's way to the throne.

They also didn't have show parallels/symbolism, after parallels/symbolism, after parallels/symbolism.

It's Bryke's fault that Zutara caught so many people's attention and they have the nerve to mock and ridicule them for disagreeing with their personal self-insert fantasy that does not matter to the narrative. The whole thing with basing Kataang off of a little boy having it down bad for an older big-sister-like figure who doesn't feel the same way doesn't help Bryke's case at all either.

[web-novel-polls]

WN Women Bonus Polls #2: MXTX

[Propaganda below] - Spoilers Warning!

A-Qing from Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation / MDZS

Submission: Incredibly clever. Fakes blindness to survive as a street orphan and pickpocket people. Successfully deceives a magnificent liar into believing she's really blind for years. Tries to hinder said liar's schemes and save people from him even after she's dead and actually blind and unable to speak. 

Jiang Yanli from Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation

 “Madam, A-Xian is my younger brother. Him being humiliated by others, to me, isn’t just a small matter.”

Submission: She is the sweetest person to ever exist. She's a wonderful big sister to her brother Jiang Cheng and her shidi/adoptive brother Wei Wuxian. She is not just a sister but also very maternal to them, as her parents are not the best. She is also the mother of Jin Ling, but sadly died before she could raise him. Her husband, Jin Zixuan, died in a confrontation with Wei Wuxian, but she did not blame him and even sacrificed herself for him. She would've made the best mother to Jin Ling, just as she was the best sister to Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian. She also makes the best soup ever. I would die to taste her soup. Then I would come back to life because that's how much the soup nurtures you. 

Jian Lan from Heaven Official’s Blessing / TGCF

Submission: She has unconditional love for her very disgusting and disturbing undead fetus child. That's a mother right there. 

Wiki Link

Ling Wen from Heaven Official’s Blessing / TGCF

[No Propaganda Submitted] 

One of the Three Tumors - three Heavenly Officials that have some of the worst reputations after Xie Lian (“the laughing stock of the three realms”) - and was accused of, like, killing a dude or smth but was accepted back into Heaven on the sole basis that she’s the only administratively competent god

Liu Mingyan from The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System

Submission: Head disciple of Xian Shu Peak. Said to be so beautiful she wears a veil over her face so as to not distract others. Writes popular erotic fanfiction about her older brother's shixiong/her shibo and his male disciple. 

Luo Qingyang (Mianmian) from Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation

Submission: She stood up against a whole bunch of powerful men and dared to speak a different opinion. Then she just up and left the cultivation world because she had no more time for their bullshit. At the end of the novel, she's a rogue cultivator married to a former merchant with her own daughter named Mianmian. We should all be like her. 

Mod Propaganda: 

Highly principled and strong-willed. Immediately left her clan after they mocked her for supposedly having feelings for Wei Wuxian when she literally just mentioned he didn't kill indiscriminately. Now living her best life as a rogue cultivator with her husband and child.

She saw the injustice of her own clan firsthand and decided, “I'm not going to be a part of this. You're not listening to me, so fuck y'all.” And honestly, based. 

Wiki Link

Ning Yingying from The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System 

Submission: She goes through great character development. At first, she's dense and kind of annoying, even a little selfish. But she grows up to be a strong, intelligent, and intuitive woman. 

Additional Propaganda

Sha Hualing from The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System

Submission 1: I can't stand her and yet I love her. What does that tell you? 

Submission 2: her cringefail losergirl swag <3 girlie constantly in situations and she put herself into most of them 

Mod Propaganda

A fierce demon who attacked the Cang Qiong Mountain sect in SVSSS and became one of Luo Binghe’s wives in Proud Immortal Demon Way who often fought with Liu Mingyan and Qin Wanyue

My fav description of her is something along the lines of, “trying to be the steal-your-man girl who fails about it so badly” 

She’s ambitious, she’s ruthless, she’s intelligent -  If you support women’s rights, you should also support women’s wrongs (/light-hearted) 

Su Xiyan from The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System

[No propaganda submitted]

Additional Propaganda #1

Additional Propaganda #2

Wen Qing from Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation

Submission: She is everything! She doesn't get enough screen time in the novel, but that proves just how amazing she is to make such an impression in spite of it. She is a great big sister, to both her brother Wen Ning and the protagonist Wei Wuxian. She is stern but kind. She's a doctor. She throws needles at people. She's everything! 

Previous Propaganda (MXTX Side Characters Tournament):

Submission 1: Doctor, mad scientist, war criminal, protective big sister... she has the range!! Submission 2: Wen Qing my beloved!! She did surgery on a grape. Mad genius for real. Also a loving sister with a very sharp tongue and maybe no sense of how far is too far. Can't wait for them to find her alive in a Koi Tower basement! Submission 3: Justice for my girl!!!!  Submission 4: She's bitchy and pragmatic and cares deeply and did an unprecedented operation (experimental and nonconsensual!), what's not to love? Also she deserved better. 

Yushi Huang from Heaven Official’s Blessing / TGCF

Submission: She slit her own throat to save her country. She's very compassionate and always willing to help others. She also gives people vegetables. 

Additional Propaganda: 

Additional propaganda for Yushi Huang:  She's so competent that she's got the womanzier of the series consistently on the back foot, and she doesn't even care to notice.  She's here to dish out rain and that's it.     

[coffee-with-mint-syrup]

The case of live-action atla zutara.

First of all, the scarf scene. I won't be repeating myself, here are some main points - there was absolutely no reason for Zuko to act the way he did and for the scene to be shot this dramatically. Even if they did the shipbaiting in this scene - it means there's a ship which is much more than live-action kataang has at this point. Also I don't really think these guys are shipbaiting type but that's just the impression I got.

Then - the second obvious one - Oma and Shu's visuals. We have star-crossed lovers from two towns at war, basically the local equivalent of Romeo and Juliet (as in legendary lovers who are known above all for their love) wearing coincidentally colors that are primarily associated with two of our characters (who shared this dramatically shot scene in the previous episode).

And I know, it may seem so insignificant - but but but but! - you have to think about this. Of course there are creators, writers and showrunners that are unaware of some non-canon ships or don't care about them. But it's not the case for atla. No, creators of atla were so aware of zutara - they wrote a parody scene in a in-world trashy play to mock this fan pairing and it still proved absolutely nothing and just gave zutara more content. The creators and writers of this adaptation clearly had the discussion "what we should do with kataang" - because there is no trace of kataang in the 1st season. So it was a conscious decision to omit that - but where would the romantic subplot go? Well, I don't know, but they are showrunners, they most certainly discussed options. They are clearly very, very, very much aware of zutara. And they still do this? They still show us Oma and Shu wearing red and blue? All they had to do is to give at least one of them any different color. Any. But they didn't. (for fuck sake, it is the Earth Kingdom - yellow and green would do it)

There were zero, no, nada Kataang interactions, implications or those scenes that are filmed just a little bit too dramatically like the scarf one. I don't know, there's still a chance that they will wait for season 3 to make Aang's crush on Katara happen. I'm also not so sure what will happen to Aang failing to open seventh chakra, I mean - his love for Katara has a huge purpose in series, so it still doesn't look very good. But you can't even imagine how glad I am that they didn't do this secret tunnel thing. It was very uncomfortable.

So it was the more fact-based part of my case, let's get to the irrational, almost delusional part, tin foil hat probably needed.

Almost all the scenes Zuko and Katara shared in the first season kept reminding me of another famous enemies-to-lovers ship that actually became canon in the infamous final episode - Reylo, the way it was filmed in The Force Awakens. I mean - the first fight in the woods where she looses, the intensity of him staring at her, the final fight in snowy location where she kicks his ass and shows her mastering this superpower, him trying to talk to her during this fight and mentioning her learning/having to learn...Zuko calling Katara a peasant reminded me of this "Rey is no one" discourse. I don't know man, I haven't thought about The Force Awakens reylo for a very long time and it just kept popping in my head.

All of this - it's like a blueprint for enemies to lovers.

Also I actually think that the look they shared in the 2nd episode was also shot kinda weirdly and dramatically. It's not to the extent of the scarf scene but I do remember thinking that "why did they film it they way? it's too intense".

In the conclusion I'd like to say that as much as I like all the season 1 zutara stuff they left out in the adaptation - necklace subplot and implications, pirates and the famous "You rise with the moon, I rise with the sun" - I think I actually prefer the scarf scene. Yes, it would be so great to see those things in adaptation but in the end of the day they would still be just the things they kept from the original and probably noting more. Like the cabbages or the secret tunnel song or anything else, just things from the source material that implicate nothing. While the scarf scene, the Oma and Shu's clothes - it means they made a conscious decision to make it that way. It means they put some thought into that and some meaning. And this gives me hope there's a chance for Zutara in this adaptation.

P.S. I told about this my sister who hasn't watch the series yet and she said "I think people who made this show are just shipping zutara in secret". I do not necessarily imply she might be right - but creators of animated series (the very same people that made kataang canon, not zutara) DID leave because of some creative differences and because they couldn't control creative decision. Might as well be THAT kind of decision.

[whatavery]

Hot and Cold (Art Trade)

My part of an art trade I did with Tucsi featuring Nicocai. Funnily enough, my first time writing that pairing, but it was fun! I tried to get Nico's dialogue down, so please do let me know how I did!

Oh and of course, this story is illustrated by Tucsi as well! Look at it, isn't it adorable?

Part II

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As his grip on his own hand tightened, Mordecai's ear gave an irritable flicker from the small the unflattering sound of leather squeezing against leather. He let out a short, shuddering sigh. Even in the darkened interior of the car, he could see his breath in front of his face, a small fog that dissipated in seconds. Even clad in his thick, dark coat, the late winter cold still cut through it, chilling him to the bone.

“Aw you feelin’ cold, cher? Need me t’ warm dem hands of yours?” Mordecai didn’t even turn to face his companion in the dark, the larger, light gray cat’s silhouette clear as day despite how dark it was. The unmistakable silhouette of Nicodeme Savoy leaned in towards Mordecai as he side-eyed the Cajun cat. “My Cajun blood keeps me warm – it can warm you too…”

“Are you suggesting I use your blood for warmth?” Mordecai scoffed derisively, still side-eyeing the bigger cat. He turned his green-eyed gaze forward instead, focused on the seemingly vacant area outside. The cold night had a clear sky, the full-moon’s light beaming down, bathing everything in its pale, silvery blue light. Mordecai could see frost glistening off what little plant-life was present outside. “That’s morbid even by your standards, Mr. Savoy…”

“Lagniappe, lagniappe! Never knew you was in’trested in dat sort’a stuff, cher!” Nicodeme laughed in the dark in that deep baritone of his. Mordecai’s left ear gave an irate flicker, before it laid back against his head. He wasn't sure what was worse; being stuck in a dark, cold car at midnight, waiting for a pickup, or the fact that he had to endure Nicodeme's constant comments, his endless onslaught of jabs at him.

“Never mind,” Mordecai sighed, adjusting his glasses for a moment, carefully repositioning his them ever so slightly upon the bridge of his nose. The conversation wasn't one he thought they ought to continue. Who knew where it might take them. Given that this man’s sister had already carved one sigil into Mordecai's chest, he didn’t need to give Nicodeme a reason to think this was an experience he wished to relive.

“Always so serious,” Nicodeme grunted. When Mordecai turned his head to look towards him, he saw Nicodeme in the dark, looking at him with an exaggerated pout on his face, clearly doing his best to come across as what he either thought a serious person looked like… or he was mocking Mordecai, which he knew to be the more likely option. “Just make a bahbin, no jokes. Serious business.”

Mordecai turned the other way, ignoring his companion as he glanced out the window by the passenger seat. He squeezed his hands together tighter, trying to keep warm the best that he could, though the mercilessly cold winter night didn’t leave him with much of a chance.

Finally, Mordecai relented his fidgeting, reluctantly unbuttoning his coat, which immediately caused all the warmth the fabric had trapped between him and it to rush out. As the cold air within the car rushed in to fill the available space, Mordecai shuddered again and pulled out his pocket watch. The conductive nature of the golden metal alloy meant that even through his leather gloves, it felt as though Mordecai held a chunk of ice that somehow got colder and colder. The warmth coming from his own body could only affect the metal for so long, now that it was out in the open.

“They’re late…” Mordecai noted in the most monotonous, most irate tone he could muster. The nerve of these people… Although he knew it wouldn't do him or Marigold any good, the temptation to shoot them on sight when they eventually turned up was quite strong. But Mordecai just put the pocket watch back into his inner pocket. He shuddered again as he hurriedly closed his coat.

“C’mere.” Before Mordecai could even think to tell Nicodeme to leave him alone, he felt two, massive mittens around his own. Although Nicodeme's were barren, not covered by gloves, Mordecai was surprised to find that they were incredibly warm. Perhaps there was some level of truth to the bigger cat’s boastful claims about his Cajun blood. “Dere, ain’t dat better, cher?”

Mordecai said nothing. Although he detested sudden physical contact like this, he had to admit the bigger cat’s warmth was rather pleasant. His hands had previously felt as though they’d been dunked into a bank of snow. Despite there being no snow outside, the air was sharp and cold, and Mordecai knew the only thing worse than sitting in this dark, still vehicle was actually venturing out into he cold, dark night.

When Nicodeme let go again, Mordecai shot him a look, a look which was returned by a grin, a smirk. Mordecai let out an exasperated sigh. “What?”

“If ya’ want me to keep warmin’ you, all you gotta do is ask,” Nicodeme said with a wink of those yellow eyes. Even in the dark, the Cajun cat’s eyes practically glowed like the fireflies that would take to floating around these parts on warm summer nights.

Mordecai didn’t say a word as he squeezed his hands together again. Any minute now… They had to show up, didn’t they? How much longer could they possibly leave them waiting? When the bigger cat chuckled again, Mordecai sighed once more. “Yes? What did I do now that’s so funny?”

“Yer just so stubborn, cher – commes les vieux. It’s funny. Yer freezin’ cold and don’t want no help stayin’ warm?” Mordecai hadn't much of a clue what Nicodeme was saying when he slipped into French – he already had trouble understanding the Cajun cat when he spoke English, his thick, pronounced accent often making his words difficult to decipher. It didn’t help when he spoke fast, though mercifully he currently spoke rather slowly. “Gar ici, I’ll keep you warm.”

“What are-?” But Mordecai didn’t finish his sentence before a thick log of an arm was slipped around him. Pulled sideways, Mordecai found himself pressed up against the massive, warm body of the Cajun cat. He was surprised by just how warm he was; his body was like a furnace. It was no wonder he rarely took to wearing warm clothes, even in winter. It was strangely impressive in a way…

“Dere, isn’t dat better? Yer shiverin’, boo,” Nicodeme whispered in the dark. Mordecai gave the most feeble of squirms, a halfhearted attempt at breaking free from the already loose grip the bigger cat had on him. Nicodeme's built form was a formidable one; Mordecai knew he put great effort into staying in shape and that he was very strong; he’d witnessed Nicodeme wrestling men bigger than himself, using his brute strength to throw people around with little effort. If he truly wanted to, he could have put Mordecai in an iron grip to keep him from slipping away… but he didn’t.

Despite this, Mordecai remained in place. “You’re suffocating me…”

“I’m barely holdin’ on. I think yer startin’ t’ like me, mon cher,” Nicodeme insisted, giving yet another chuckle. Mordecai didn’t respond as he stayed put, deciding that keeping quiet was his best option; the more he spoke, the more ammo this bigger man had for teasing him, no matter what he did say. “Are ya’ feelin’ warmer?”

“… yes.” Mordecai didn’t want to admit it, but being pressed up against the bigger cat was indeed helping him stay warm, much like sitting by a fireplace. It likely came down to the bigger cat’s metabolism, Mordecai thought to himself. Or maybe he was just so cold that even the weakest source of heat would warm his bones right up.

“An’ what do dey say when a friend helps ‘em out?” Nicodeme asked in an almost sing-song kind of voice. He may as well have been waggling his finger at Mordecai, who shot him an irritated look.

“… Thank you, Mr. Savoy,” he grunted reluctantly.

“Pleasure’s all mine, cher,” Nicodeme said before Mordecai felt the bigger cat lean towards him. Having turned his head slightly to look, Mordecai's entire being tensed up the moment Nicodeme's lips made contact. He didn’t hit Mordecai's cheek, nor did he hit his lips. It was right in between, the side of Mordecai's black and white muzzle, right by the edge of where his white-fur blended into the blackness.

As if he’d been poked with a red hot iron, Mordecai felt his entire face warming up in an instant as he stared at Nicodeme in disbelief. The bigger cat looked back at him, before he roared with laughter, to which Mordecai immediately shushed him. “Not so loud…! What was that for?”

“Well, I thought it could warm ya’ up – an’ I was right, cher, yer almost glowin’,” the gray cat said, smirking at him. Nicodeme's left arm had been resting against the window on the driver’s side of the car, but now the bigger cat moved his left hand towards Mordecai. He felt that big, strong mitt of his brushing his cheek. “Don’t be shy now… I know ya’ like me, mon cher.”

Mordecai gritted his teeth, grumbling something under his breath to which Nicodeme raised both eyebrows inquisitively. Mordecai spoke up, though his voice was strangely shaky. “Highly unprofessional… You shouldn’t go giving people kisses like that – and certainly not me…”

“Not like dat? Den how? On de lips instead?” Nicodeme asked, his tone clearly feigning ignorance, as if he truly hadn't a clue what Mordecai meant. The tuxedo cat glared at him in the dark. He felt those thick, rough fingers brushing his cheek once more with a surprising level of gentleness that Mordecai wouldn't have thought this big man capable of.

“No. Please, don’t you even think about-” Mordecai was cut off almost immediately when Nicodeme put a small amount of force in to turn his head till they faced each other.

“Think about what, cher?” he asked, his gaze locked onto Mordecai's green eyes.

“Stop it…”

“Stop what?”

“Stop looking at me like that,” Mordecai almost gasped. Why did he sound so breathless all of sudden? Why did he feel breathless? His eyes widened when Nicodeme leaned closer still. “Wait…”

“Hmmm? For what, boo?” Nicodeme asked in a low, raspy whisper in the dark. His voice was so low, but it was as though he may as well be shouting at Mordecai. He heard and locked onto each and every word. “Nervous?”

“I think I hear them… They’re here,” Mordecai lied. The bigger cat’s ears perked up as he listened for a moment, his gaze turning from Mordecai to quickly scan their surroundings outside the car. Of course, there wasn't a soul to be seen in any direction.

Grinning, Nicodeme leaned closer still. “Just tell me to stop – anytime you want, cher…”

Mordecai opened his mouth, but not as much as a squeak left his lips. Nicodeme tilted his head to the side. Mordecai could feel his heart racing, as if threatening to burst right through his rib-cage. He let out one last shuddering breath before it happened.

The second Nicodeme's lips made contact with his, Mordecai felt as though he had been lit on fire, warmth coursing throughout every fiber of his being. He felt a tingling sensation down his spine all the way to the white tip of his tail.

It was a brief experience, Nicodeme mercifully deciding not to prolong it. When he pulled back, Mordecai saw that smirk he'd gotten so used to over the past few months. “Yer shakin’, boo. Do ya’ need more warmth?”

“No…” Mordecai had thought that it was Nicodeme who was shaking, but he realized that it was indeed himself. But at least he was no longer cold. “Please… Let go of me, Mr. Savoy…”

Nicodeme seemed surprised, but he gave a light chuckle, releasing Mordecai immediately, much to his relief. “I think you can start callin’ me Nico now…”

“And why is that?” Mordecai snapped once he’d sufficiently calmed down. His heart wasn't racing anymore and he wasn't feeling tingly… but the warmth had also left his body the moment he scooted back to where he’d been sitting previously.

“I s’pose I just think it’s strange t’ be formal with someone you kissed,” Nico said, warmth immediately rushing back into Mordecai’s cheeks. The bigger cat gave a soft laugh at this, Mordecai not meeting his eyes.

Without a word, Mordecai slid sideways towards the bigger cat, pushed himself up against him and kissed him on the lips. He gripped Nico’s vest as if to hold on for dear life, like the last piece of floating debris in a shipwreck that would keep his head above water. Mordecai didn’t make the kiss last for too long either, it was just a firm, but brief kiss.

Mordecai was left breathless again and Nico seemed taken by surprise, though he did smile. “Ah, what a lovely surprise…”

“Don’t you mention it to anyone… Ever… What now?” Mordecai asked, feeling annoyance boiling up inside him again when Nico started to chuckle. What had he done now that was so amusing to him? Would he ever stop-

Mordecai gave a start when he heard loud tapping upon the window behind him. Whirling around so fast his glasses nearly flew off, he looked through the passenger seat window, horrified to see that they were no longer alone. It was time to do business… But how much had they seen?

Based on the way Nico kept snickering as he exited the car, Mordecai felt his heart sinking… He was never going to hear the end of this...

[celestiachris]

Shu Sakamaki Headcannons

(AYYY!!! My first fanfic I made and its about Shu! OMG I LOVE THIS MAN SO MUCH-!!! ♡ಡ ͜ ʖ ಡ Umm... Sorry, anyway hope you like it bish!)

Warnings : Swearing, Slight angst, but mostly fluff

•First, I feel like it would take a while to even get close to Shu (Hell, even be in a relationship with him).

•He would definitely think your annoying at first and doesn't really understand why you hang around him so much. But over he starts to actually enjoy your company little by little everyday and finds comfort in your presence.

•And if he does develop feelings for you. He'd definitely tell you right away (He's very straight forward- ).

•Okay! I feel like we all know he's gonna do this. YOUR HIS HUMAN PILLOW (I know you saw that coming!), yet you'd complain about this HE STILL DOES IT. And he'd definitely be the clingy type, he always wants you to be next to him 24/7 and tries to convince you to skip class and stay with him FOR JUST A LITTLE LONGER!

•Tho, he is happy being with you. Theres also a part of him that doesn't understand why you said yes to him. Because, he's a vampire and your just a human, he knows you have to go someday. Yet, he never told you about these thoughts you'd figure it out one way or another. One way is because he's been distant lately and you didn't know why.

•Once, you figured out why he's been so distant. You comforted him, and told him that you chose to stay with him. You love him and he was the reason why you even tolerated staying at this mansion. You loved him for him and you wouldn't trade him for the world.

•That's definitely one of the reasons why he's really protective of you. Because your one of the only people that actually care for him. Yet you both (Mostly him) tease and mock eachother. You both really love and care for eachother. And he does hope that THAT will never change.

[uluvjay]

list 3, prompt 1 with jack pls! maybe at the lake house or something

[ SIT ]  for one muse to finger the other who sits in their lap fully clothed,  keeping an arm around their waist to make them stay still. 

Jack Hughes x Fem!reader

Warnings?; SMUT, fingering, semi public, pet names, dirty talk, cursing, kissing, out door

“Jack!” She scolded as she felt him slip a hand into the waistband of her shorts

The couple was relaxing on the hammock that rested between two large trees on the lake house property. It had been a day full of lingering looks and touches so she wasn’t surprised that her boyfriend wasn’t keeping his hands to himself.

“Relax baby nobody can see up” he whispered in her ear placing kisses behind it

“Fine bu-“ she began but a moan cut her off as he began moving his fingers on her clit.

“Gotta be quiet” he giggled in her ear

“Shu-ohh - shut up” she quietly moaned

He just laughed before he slipped a finger inside her warm and welcoming core, moving at a slow pace.

He kept up his pace for a moment before she started thrusting her hips up into his hand trying to create friction.

“For someone that was scared of getting caught you sure are moving a lot” Jack teased and placed his free arm around her waist.

“Then go faster!” She wined still trying to move her hips despite his strong hold.

“Whatever you say princess” he smirked adding another finger and going at a fast pace.

“Shit” she squeaked at his unforgiving pace

He held a smirk on his face as he listened to her small whimpers escape her mouth and watched her body fall apart under the use of two simple fingers.

“That feel good baby?” He asked as she let a loud moan to escape

“Mhm, hi-hit my g spot” she told him not even caring if she just inflated his ego even more then it already was.

He couldn’t hold back the cocky smirk that spread upon his face as he slowed down his fingers earning a cry of annoyance from his girlfriend.

She was getting to the edge right before he slowed his movements, she could feel the the fire igniting in her lower belly and pussy clenching at the feeling of Jacks hard cock pressed against her back.

“Baby I was getting so close” she whined

“Aww I’m sorry honey” he replied in a mocking tone

But his slow pace didn’t last long as she felt his fingers speeding up shortly after her complaint.

And it wasn’t long before she felt that fire bursting in her lower belly, thighs trembling and eyes clenched shut as her orgasm was hitting.

“J! I’m cumming!” She cried louder then she would have liked

“Come for me pretty girl, let me feel you” He encouraged fingers still moving inside her to help her through her orgasm.

When she finally came down from her high Jack pulled his fingers out from between her thighs and popped them into his mouth, groaning at the sweet taste of her cunt.

“Thank you” she giggled out breathlessly

“Don’t have to thank me, I’d do anything to taste that sweet cunt” he teased in her ear

“Jack” she whined as she felt her core throb at his words

He just laughed before turning her head up to his and placing a sloppy kiss on her lips.

They continued to sit there till she could feel her legs again and once she could she didn’t hesitate to get up and pull her boyfriend with her.

“Where are we going?” He questioned

“To your room”

“Why?”

“So I can take care of you” she smirked pulling him along

-