#at least that's how it is in my experience!
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KAMA SUTRA SESSIONS!
°❀°•༢ ❥ SYNOPSIS: When you get an appointment from a passing athlete who wants to better his game with women, who's better to answer the call than the resident sęx therapist?
°❀°•༢ ❥ CW: 8.7k words, told in first person, sẽx therapist!fem!reader, post timeskip!ushijima, not mentioned but ages are both 26, use of an oc, dialogue-heavy, pwp, peņetration, cunnilīngus, fiňgering, sqûirting, implied size difference, unprotected
°❀°•༢ ❥ DEAR READER, FROM CHRIS: So this was inspired by my most recent field of study: s*x and the kama sutra. and from my research and thinking "hm, who would have an interest in this?" is how this fic came to be. hope you enjoy!
In the life as a sex therapist, there’s some things that you hear, see, and even experience that add years to the career.
At first, I thought it was going to be a failed business move, considering that sex is seen as a taboo topic by some. I mean, it’s a process as natural as birth but people shame it with such strong resentment…like it’s an unimaginable evil that’s ruining the world.
I couldn’t help but to think my discouragement was properly placed. I was in a town with families, retirees, no one that would really need my advice.
That “failed business move” of a thought lasted all of a week.
Thanks to the small pickett signs I personally had made and placed around the office building’s parking lot and nearby plazas, I had clients booking with me by the hour.
Couples of all ages—some married, some divorced, many singles, even polyamorous groupings contacted my office.
When people heard of a new sex therapist entering the area and started booking sessions with me, I could only wish to know what was going through their minds.
I’ve dealt with teary confessions about how wives have lost attraction for their husbands, husbands who come to terms with the fact that they don’t know how to please their wives. I’ve even gotten singles who’ve come in just to make sure they still know how to perform in the bedroom.
In these past four years, I’ve learned that just because people shun the idea of sex and sexual education during the day, they’ll come on their hands and knees at night. It’s been an interesting ride, but I can proudly say that I’ve helped many people in the area rekindle their sparkle and to finally achieve their goals with their partners.
The days I’ve spent at the office were nothing short of fulfilling—and today was supposed to be like no other.
Supposed to, of course.
My day started out like normal; waking up in my bed with my eyes fluttering open. The first thing I settled my hazy squint onto was the rays of sunlight peeking through my creme shutters, begging to illuminate my room.
I pried my hand from underneath my pillow to grab my phone off on my bedside table, the screen greeting me with a single message:
(1) VOICEMAIL FROM: Hana
Hana, my cheeky, bright-eyed, receptionist. She joined me when she was a freshman at the local community college, just taking classes until she figured out what she wanted to do with her life. Fast-forward to today, she’s a fresh graduate with a bachelors in psychology.
She’s taken it upon herself to call her around 6 A.M every day with a debrief of the day ahead. When I asked her why she does it, the sweet girl simply told me the extra effort was the least she could do.
Since then, I’ve bumped her pay high enough so that she can support herself by herself and haven’t pressed the topic a vowel further.
With my debriefing at hand, I sat up in my bed, sleep still lingering behind my eyelids. I have half a mind to cancel whatever appointments I have today and sleep just for an hour more. But when I looked down at the time on my screen, it was a reality I knew I couldn’t afford.
9:00 A.M.
My office opened in an hour and my first appointment always starts at 10:30…bless me.
“Okay, Hana, let’s see what you have for me,” I mumbled as I clicked on the awaiting tab.
As my thumb pressed the play button, Hana’s voice instantly became my background noise for my morning routine—which began in the bathroom for a shower.
“‘Morning, Y/N! Hope you slept well! I have good news and bad news for you. And no, I can’t give you the bad news first because it’s intertwined with the good news. So for starters, you have a light day—one appointment! Bad news…and this is a first for us…this client booked you for a few hours.”
“Hours?!? What the fu—“
Just hearing that made me pop my head from behind the glass shower door. Clients usually meet with me for an hour, an hour and a half if needed but hours???
“I know exactly what you’re thinking because…what the fuck?? But when I explain more about him, I think you’ll be impressed.”
“Okay, you’ve got a bit of a celebrity on your hands today. This one is Ushijima Wakatoshi. He’s 26, a player for the Schweiden Alders…a professional volleyball team. He’s playing a game against our national team and is gonna be in town for a few days. He booked with you because, and this is in his words, he says that he’s a little “awkward in the realm of love and wants to improve his social skills and….intimate skills.” He also sent over test results…he’s clean, just to let you know . So…have fun with this one!”
And just like that, Hana’s cheery voice was reduced to naught, melding with the stillness of my bathroom.
I turned off the water, standing in a foggy haze. There was only one thought in my mind:
Well then, Ushijima Wakatoshi…let’s start the day together right.
✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧
“Hana! Oh my sweet flower, I brought your favorite♪!” I sang, entering through the office’s front door.
Hana lifted her head from behind the monitor, her bright smile complementing my own.
“An omlettle with cheese and hash browns on the side?!?” She squealed, jumping from her seat.
“Mhm! Enjoy!”
Before I could take a step further, Hana ran to greet me with a hug, her curly black hair dusting along my chest.
“Thank you, Thank you!” She cheered, stepping back from me. She quickly took the stuffed brown bag from my hands before returning to her desk.
With a fading grin, I turned my attention down towards my top, a fitted rose dress shirt with just a few top buttons left undone. I wiped a few wrinkles away, shifting my attention down to my black pressed slacks that didn't face the same fate.
Still just as fresh and clean as when I left my apartment.
“So,” I began as I walked towards Hana. “How much do I have before our guest checks in?”
“Mmm, about 20. But Y/N…he’s so hot! I looked him up and wow! Like…I’m kinda confused how he’s having issues with girls. I’m sure the women at his matches throw themselves at him,” Hana gushed between a bite of her omelette.
I leaned against the rim of the desk, resting my red leather purse and my hips along the surface.
“Oh, you know how it goes. Looks can get you far, but it’s your words and actions that determine your success. I bet he does look good, but he probably needs more work on his confidence.”
“Ah, true. Well, you go tidy up your office and I’ll run the vacuum out here in a few,” Hana said, her hand shooing me away.
I grabbed my bag and giggled, “Okay, okay! But—“
I couldn’t even finish my thought when the front door tolled open, gaining a stare out of Hana and me.
“Um…excuse me…I’m here for Dr. L/N. I have an appointment at 10:30, but I just wanted to show up a little early,” the deep voice announced.
I turned my head to meet the owner behind such a voice, just for my eyes to be stunned at the sight.
A man, a tall one at that. He stood in the middle of the office with a straight face, staring back at Hana and I. His hair was a shade of brown unique to him only, brushed back to reveal his entire face. His features were strong—his jawline sharp, his cheekbones high, brows trimmed and clean, his eyes glimmering like that of a polished citrine gem.
Hana was right…he really was something to marvel at.
He stood with his hands behind his back, impassively waiting for someone to reply—or not, he really seemed unbothered.
I didn’t even need to guess what his physique could be underneath such proper garb. Those muscles weren’t shy of peeking beneath the navy suit he wore. The white dress shirt beneath was crisp, and no tie was in sight —which I guess is casual to him.
I bit my lip softly, I’ve never been intimidated by a man before, but this one made my face swell with a wafting heat. So this is Ushijima Wakatoshi…the name fits him perfectly.
Nonetheless, I had a job to do.
I rolled my shoulders back and began a few short steps towards him, the click of my heels slienced against the plush sage green carpet.
There I was, standing before him. My height met him just beneath his collar—and that’s thanks to my heels. I held my hand out to him, my glossed lips curling into a rich smile.
“Mr. Ushijima, it’s so nice to meet you! I’m Dr. L/N, but Y/N works just fine. This is Hana, my lovely receptionist.”
His hand was rough and worked, but slid against my palm like butter, his warmth melding into my touch. His thumb sat past my own, the rough pad swiping ever so softly along my skin. When my eyes finally eased from their shared smile as my lips, I couldn’t look away from him.
His own gaze was captivating, almost entrapping me in a trace of just him and I. I watched as his lips curled into a faint smile, a brief flash of white meeting my eyes.
“Oh, Y/N, it’s wonderful to meet you! Please, feel free to call me Ushijima or Wakatoshi! I’ve been waiting for this appointment for a while now..
He broke away from our contact to give his attention to Hana, waving to her with his other hand.
“And it’s nice to meet you too, Hana! Thank you for your hard work!”
I didn’t need to look back to know the look on Hana’s face: she’s a flustered mess with her tongue caught in a shudder.
“O-Oh…thanks, sir! It’s not without Y/N, though. I c-can tell you that you’ll be in…great hands!.”
Ushijima turned his sights back towards me, that muted curl of his lips growing into a full-bodied smile at last.
“I sure hope so.”
I gave Ushijima one last smile before taking my hand away from his, my hands clasping together.
“Let’s begin! I’ll bring you back and we’ll get on,” I announced, turning away from Ushijima.
As I passed by the desk, I grabbed my bag and gave Hana a swift smirk, one she returned with a wink.
Ushijima and I descended down the hall until we arrived to a room a door down from my office, room 165.
I turned the doorknob as I leaned against the white door, “Come on in.”
Ushijima nodded as he passed me, the faint scent of his cologne whisked past my nose. It’s rich—bergamot, some sage, amber, and even a hint of vanilla. That’s a good mix, and his body isn’t rejecting it, a man who knows his signature scent is a rare one these days.
The room I bought us to was of decent size—about the size of a child’s bedroom. The walls were handpainted by Hana and I some years ago, a soft peach with white carpeting. The furniture was all espresso colored, from the two leather seats that faced one another, the coffee table between the two, and the bookshelf that stood against the window.
It was a pretty comfy room, one that many current and past clients raved about.
“Pick your side and get comfortable, we’re gonna be here awhile,” I teased, closing the door behind me.
“I must apologize for that. I heard about you some time ago during a tournament and I’ve always wanted to have a sit down with you. And since I don’t come to the States often, I thought it was best to have an ample amount of time with you,” Ushijima confessed as he settled into the leather arm chair.
I followed suit, placing my bag onto the table as I sank into the seat.
“Oh, don’t apologize! You’re actually my only client today, so we can take up all day if need be. I want you to leave here confident and more sure of yourself. Which brings me to my first question…”
I folded my legs over one other, resting my hands within my lap. My eyes settled over Ushijima, not with the same set that marveled at him just minutes before. This time, I excused his attraction for purpose, preparing myself to ask the timeless question:
“What brings you in today?”
Ushijima brought himself to sit up in his seat, his large hands drifting to brace his clothed thigh.
“Well, put shortly—I wanna get better with women. I can’t talk to them, and then I see my teammates—they can strike up a conversation with them so easily. And women do talk to me, but it’s just not…oh how can I put this…with substance?”
“What do women say to you?” I asked, leaning back into the couch.
“Just talk about my looks, or how impressed they are. I’ve heard it one too many times, it gets tiring. I know they’re just trying to make conversation with me by complimenting me, but those things just bore me. My teammates love that kind of attention, but it all seems pointless to me.”
“And why is that?”
“Because,” Ushijima sighed. “It’s just going to go nowhere. I’m not into hooking up, the thought bores me honestly. I mean, I feel that you don’t get the best of someone after one night, especially if your goal is just sex.”
“So then Ushijima—”
“Wakatoshi…please call me, Wakatoshi,” Ushijima intervened, a feeble smile creeping onto his face.
“Okay…Wakatoshi, call me Y/N. Doctor is just too formal for me,” I added. “But it still begs the question, Wakatoshi: What are you looking for?”
“As in my romantic goals or my type?”
“Both work perfectly! Your interests do tie into your romantic goals,” I informed him.
Now, it’s so unbecoming of me to ask a client what their type is…but Ushijima is such a special case that I’ll overlook just this once.
After posing the question to him, Ushijima took a moment of silence to ponder, his eyes narrowing down on me.
“My type is…smart. Really smart. A put together woman with a good sense of humor. I’m more on the rigid side but I do appreciate a woman who can find joy in things. Her beauty goes without saying, so basically—a woman of substance.”
“Okay, sounds—
“What’s your type?”
Just the query to catch me off my guard…and pique my interest. In all my years, I’ve never had a client return any of my questions to me; I didn’t think Ushijima would be the first.
My cheeks flickered with heat, but I found comfort within the moment by biting my tongue softly. My eyes were pinned on him, Ushijima still wearing that blank yet firm expression on his face— neutral eyes, brows stilled and his mouth free of any curl or twitch.
Just a peaceful face behind a stinging question.
“I don’t see how that matters…?” I said, staring at Ushijima through a razor-sharp squint.
“But it does matter. It’s not a hard question unless you make it one,” he continued. “What’s your type of man, Y/N? It’d be nice to know, since we’re gonna be here awhile together.”
A grin perked up onto his lips, the cracks of pearly white teeth breaking onto the scene.
“Can’t I ask you some questions too?”
My lips broke apart between a brewing sigh, the tip of my tongue pressed against the gummy flesh of my cheek. I can’t deny him to be honest, we are stuck here for some time, and this session couldn’t continued as a one sided conversation forever.
“Alright, my type…my type…. I like a tall man, a nice athletic build, keeps himself well kept. As far as personality: smart, kind, respectful, responsible, and thoughtful. Thoughtfulness, however, is a big one for me. It’s nice to know you mean so much to someone that they would take actions out of that place of love. That’s quite admirable in my eyes.”
There was an air of silence between Ushijima and I. He sat still and I did the same. Our eyes hadn’t broken from each other either, yet the softening hues of olive green made me feel calm beneath Ushijima’s gaze.
But this was an appointment, not a staring contest. I was the first to break the silence.
“A-hem..Um… well, I digress, let’s continue,” I choked out.
I broke the eye contact Ushijima and I worked so hard to maintain with a simple blink, searching for the next territory of topic to enter.
“So where did we—talked about types…but that’s not exactly helpful in the slightest. I know you wanted to address conversation too, but can you explain a little bit more?”
Ushijima nodded calmly, but that wasn’t all I got from him. Vunerabilty was one hell of a feeling, and it dusted the highs of his cheeks red. And as his skin began to run hot, Ushijima himself grew antsy, his hand coming to rub at the nape of his neck.
But…it was cute to me. The emotions I see on a daily basis are pride, sadness, anger—but embarrassment is a rare one that I can always appreciate.
“I…I don’t know how to flirt. It’s always awkward and I honestly feel stupid,” he mumbled, his stare pinned down at his pants.
“I hear you,” I consoled, a faint smile crowding at my lips.
“It’s such an unspoken realm that everyone is expected to know how to do but with no explanation. Flirting is something that is also unique to each person. It can be acts of kindness, giving compliments,—or the complete opposite. Some people like to tease, play rough, or even act cold as a form of flirting.”
Ushijima followed along with me, nodding his head every so often.
“So then, what is the best way of flirting?” He asked.
“Well, I can’t say. —
“Let me rephrase,” He interjected. “What would a man have to do or say to you in order for you to be interested in him?”
“Wit.”
“Wit?”
“Yeah, I love witty, intelligent conversations. It could be anything and I’ll find interest in it. Just being able to express your intelligence to me—whether it be on topic you know or asking questions, I love it all. I guess to keep it short, the mind and how a man expresses his knowledge is what gets me interested.”
The presence of a faint grin lit up Ushijima’s face.
“That’s what it takes, hm…”
An air of enticement bled into the room and it shamefully claimed me as its victim. I’ll admit, I’ve never had a client as interesting as Ushijima. Aside from his genuine intrigue about sex and the ways of courting, he seems to have something more on his mind—and I wanted to know every single detail. But he plays along too well, thanks to that blank expression he wears so proudly. But he slipped up with that damn grin, now it’s my turn to play the next hand.
I placed my hand on the open cushion beside me, the tips of my fingers drumming along the leather surface.
“Come sit, let’s do an exercise…just so it really sinks in. Maybe you’ll be able to use this as reference for the next lady that catches your eye.”
And just like that, Ushijima was swift to oblige. I was hooked on the sight of him standing from his seat, his hand toying with the buttons of his blazer. The white dress shirt he wore was finally revealed to me, the subtle hints of his muscular frame peeking through.
His steps were calm and controlled, carefully trudging around the glass coffee table. Ushijima held himself with a confidence unmatched to any man I’ve met thus far. He was interesting to observe, and even more fun to tease. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested in seeing how far we could go, all kinds of thoughts were plaguing my mind.
As he stood over me, I had to bite back a smile, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip.
This was turning out to be an interesting session, after all.
Ushijima placed himself on the couch at an arm’s length away, leaving an untasteful gap amongst us. Yet when my eyes had fallen on his stoic face, the man’s fair skin was budding with the innocence of pink.
“Well don’t be shy, Wakatoshi,” I cooed. My hand patted at the spot just beside my thigh, hinting for him to move closer.
“We are here together for quite some time, might as well get…a little close.”
With a firm nod, Ushjima bridged the gap between strangers to acquanitances among us, his body now resting snug at my side. He had yet to face me, as if he was embarrassed to do. I noticed that he kept his hands in his lap, his digits nervously fiddling around.
I reached over to his hand, softly grazing along the back of his hand to ease his worries.
“Ushijima? You ready? We don’t have to do this, if you’re not comfortable—”
“No, let’s do it,” he huffed, his body turned towards me. “What kind of exercise are we doing?” He asked, turning his body to face me.
“Great! For the exercise, let’s pretend we’re meeting at…oh, I dunno, a bar. Do your best to try and ask me out on a date.”
“Um…Y/N…you do realize that the fact that I can’t ask anyone on a date is why we’re here, right?”
“Yes…I do, thank you for that. Use your imagination—a bar has ambiance lighting, soft music, drinks on rotation, play on the environment, and make a good impression, okay?”
Ushijima sat in silence for a moment, his eyes narrowing as the seconds passed. I could assume that he was thinking—really thinking at that.
I almost pulled into my own daze of boredom, the color of the walls catching my eye—until the quiet mumble of his voice broke the stilled air.
“Well…what do you drink at a bar?”
I tucked my leg beneath me as I shifted myself to give Ushijima my full and undivided attention. He mirrored me, turning so that we were both facing one another. Yet again, our eyes locked, unwilling to falter from the view we had of one another.
“I usually go for a glass of wine, I’m not a fan of heavy liquor.”
“Wine’s a good choice. Are you someone who pairs wine with food?”
I shook my head, “Not really. But, I do know that red wine goes best with some fruits, chocolate, and steak. Rosé goes best with grilled vegetables or salmon, and white is the best of both worlds.”
“Oh really?” Ushijima hummed. “I never realized wine could be so specific. Since you know so much, why not put your knowledge to the test?”
“And how are we gonna do that?”
A soft smile grew across Ushijima’s lips. He seemed to relax a bit–his shoulders laxed, his side now resting against the couch’s back cushions, he even shifted a bit closer to me too; all of which made me ease up too. I wasn’t feeling as guilty as I was before–if anything, I was pleased with the way our exercise was going.
Ushijima has such a nice, easy voice that greets the ear so kindly, and his eyes were just so alluring to stare into, I could sit here for hours just watching how his moss green hues catch the light of every hour. Not to mention that the scent of his cologne was finally welcomed into the scene, just wafting past my nose every so often.
He had all the making of an ideal guy, so why isn’t he–
“I know a place near here, a nice restaurant with a wine cellar in the basement,” he led on. “ They have collections that date back years, and from what I know, the darker the wine, the richer…no, the sweeter it drips on the tongue. I’d like to hear your thoughts in a…professional setting, if you may.”
“I’d like that,” I nodded, a curling grin consuming my senses. “I’m sure you’d have some thoughts to tell me too.”
Ushijima shrugged, his hand coming to brace the pulse of his neck. “Honestly, there’s a lot on my mind I could tell you so much right now, but then…well…we might not make it to the restaurant. And I’m just dying to pour you a glass of wine, so…for now I’ll be paitent.”
I pushed my lips into a wading pout. I could feel my eyes softening beneath his gaze. He could find the time to tease me back while flustered like this…interesting.
“And what if I don’t have the same patience?” I pried, a sly smirk pressed onto my lips.
That’s when Ushijima sealed the end of our improv scene, bringing his hull of a body to overshadow my own. His lips came to fill the shell of my ear with an esteemed chuckle. His breath painted against my skin, awakening my nerves to greet him. I was helpless, at his every whim—and not a fiber in me wanted it any other way.
“Then I’ll just have to tease you ‘til you break…right?”
He drew himself back gradually, our dilated eyes catching sight of each other once more. I was at a loss for words, my lips agape beneath the heat of shock. At that moment, all I could think about what would follow—his lips crashing into mine, his hands bracing every curve of my body. I wanted to be under him, to have to stare up into those eyes to plead for relief from the stirring heat flaring about my body.
But then again, this isn’t some magic fairytale…it’s an appointment.
“How was that?” He asked, his words breaking my sinful chain of thought.
“Good,” I complimented, hiding my roused thoughts behind a smile. “You’ll most definitely get a date like that.”
“Well, I might have gotten the date, but I wanna be able to…y’know…”
“To what, Ushijima? You gotta be a little more clear than that,” I smirked.
His skin began to flush itself of its tan shade in lieu of the trickles of rose dotting the highs of his cheek.
“To…please a woman.”
“Please? Like…please and thank you? I hate speaking in code…especially in a professional setting.” I continued to press.
If I had known he was so shy towards the topic of sex earlier, then we would’ve been able to ease into it. But for him to tease me like that…it’s only fair I return the gracious favor.
Ushijima’s eyes shot wide, a gasp breaking his lips apart. He was reluctant, but he gave in, biting at his bottom lip.
“Fine…I wanna know how to be good at sex…happy?”
“Oh, well to be good at sex is just the same as being a good lover. And I can show you how with this…" I trailed off.
I quickly rose from my spot on the couch, setting my sights on my bookcase. A few steps brought in front of the shelved plethora of knowledge, eyes searching for the spine of the book needed for the moment.
"Ah! Here we are," my hand plucking out the book from its peers.
“This…is the Kama Sutra. It’s an ancient Indian text written by the Hindu philosopher, Vātsyāyana Mallanaga; that explains how both men and women can lead rich sexual and social lifestyles. The Kama Sutra has become associated with sex positions over the years, but it doesn’t make it a heavy presence within the book.”
I returned to Ushijima’s side, seating myself beside him with the book in tow. I rested the Kama Sutra on his lap, allowing him to absorb the famed text. I watched as his eyes flitted about the cover, tracing every word to be found.
“Wanna flip through it?” I suggested, softly tugging at the book cover.
“Yeah,” Ushijima nodded. “I’m interested.”
From the moment I opened the book, Ushijima and I were bound by the knowledge of the old world. The pages were written in english, yet the message was something that transcended all known languages. I went on to explain to him how the kama sutra devled into how sex between two lovers should be enjoyable for everyone, and how the pleasure of the woman would lead to ultimate satisfaction for both parties.
Though I’ve read it before for papers, presentations, and even for my dissertation, reading it with Ushijima was an experience that struck the strings of my heart in a special way.
Maybe it was becasue he expressed a genuine interest in the questions he asked. Or maybe it was the cute reactions he made when things finally clicked. Or maybe it was the plain fact that I had someone beside me to read it with for once.
From time to time, I took a few moments to study Ushijima’s reaction to his answered questions. He would blink a few times, as though he had to internalize all of what was said. Then, he’d peered over to me with a smile curling up the corners of his mouth.
Our chase of knowledge led us to the chapter on positions, the page’s title calling for Ushijima’s attention to be riled.
“This chapter looks short. Where are the positions?”
“Well, the Kama Sutra actually doesn’t have any positions, it gives advice on how to select and personalize positions between lovers.”
“Huh,” he huffed. “…and what does that look like?
“Want me to show you?”
A blanket of silence fell over him, and he’s back to wearing that blank, sedated look on his face.
Damn, was that too strong? It was a little forward but I know it’s nothing—
“If it’s not too much…I’d be honored.”
“Well, then,” I grinned as I placed the book atop of the glass tabletop. “Let’s get started.”
Ushijima’s hand nuzzled along my waist, guiding me over his lap to straddle him.
“You can just sit right on me, I think we’re getting a little closer, yeah?”
“I think we are, but we can get closer too, y’know.”
“And can we do that?”
With that burning question of his, I was forced to bear the weight of what lust looks in his eyes—his pupils dilating, his eyelids growing heavy, and a mischievous smirk tracing his lips.
“Do you wanna be on top?” I quizzed, toying with the top button of his dress shirt.
“Well I’m just here to observe, so I think you should be on top,” he said, leaning back against the couch. He brought me down with him, his hands nestled along my lower back. Just like that, my chest was smothered against the tauntingly chiseled mass of his own.
My hands languidly skimmed along the face of Ushijima’s shirt. He held still as my touch consumed him and his senses whole, his lungs coaxed into a steam of shaky shallow, breaths.
“Y’know, we have to find a way to make this position our own, make sure we fit each other just right,” I hummed, draping my arms along his broad shoulders. I lowered myself further into his groin, pressing up against something hard…and twitchy.
That’s when I felt it, a thick bulge nested right between Ushijima and I.
Men are so easy, it’s so cute.
That stoic face of his was cracking right before my eyes—his eyes screwed shut, lips stunning with a puffy pout, his cheeks brushed with the innocent hues of blush. He looked so lost in his own heat, desperately squirming for a remedy.
“Oh my-fuck, Y/N. What do you want from me? I’ll do anything, just say the word!”
I brought my thumb to tug along the plush of Ushijima’s bottom lip, his glossed skin clinging to my touch.
“Aww, where’s the patience you had earlier? I thought you were gonna tease me? But seeing you like this…it’s a good look on you too, Wakatoshi.”
A gentle grin eased itself into Ushijima’s features, fueled by the same salacious nature dotting his eyes. His hold over me shifted, his hand slipping down to grasp at the thick curve of my ass. He even found the chance to snake his hand between us to cup at the underside of my thigh. He kept me near, forcing his chest to curl into mine as he sat up once more.
“I can guarantee you one thing, Y/N.” Ushijima huffed, his heavy eyes peering up at me.
“Oh, and what’s that?”
“After me, you won’t ever need another lover.”
My hazy stare fluttered between his eyes and his lips, capturing the sight of It was almost likat was all I needed to finally be sealed beneath his trance. And because of that, I was able to press a soft peck onto Ushijima’s lips, breaking away just to whisper words of encouragement for his racing mind to catch.
“Then prove it.”
Sharing my spite, Ushijima’s lips bared one final smirk before crashing against my own. His kiss told me all I needed to know–soft, puffy, and clinging to my own. The supply curves of his lips caught every pushing tide I offered, ignithing a ravenous intent deep within us both.
His hands roamed over my body, claiming every curve, every inch of me for his taking. It’s dizzying to have him like this, a nonchalant man turned hungry for every crumb to offer. He was getting restless, his hips bucking for friction all over again.
Maybe I was so focused on how dumb his lips had driven me or his hands tracing my body like a sculpture to his sculpture, but how he managed to have me pinned beneath him and smothered into the leather cushion is a mystery to me alone, but I wasn’t about to complain.
How could I when he smothered me beneath the thick of his chest, sending my head into a dizzied frenzy But with the way his lips carried such care to dance with mine was enough for me to forgive him for being so needy. The same needy–no, greedy nature made him take control without any room for debate, and I surely wasn’t planning on starting anything I couldn’t finish.
“Mm, Y/N?” He mumbled, breaking our kiss.
“Hm?"
“If I remember correctly, didn’t the book say I should make you cum a few times? Through your pleasure, I'll find mine right?"
"Look at you, guess you really are learning. I think it did...so what are we gonna do about that?"
I didn’t need to hear the words to know what he had planned. I lifted my hips to help him, his hands stripping me free of my pants.
Ushijima slotted himself between the couch and the table, clutching at my waist from below.
His arms hooked around my thighs, his hands resting within the crease of my thighs, his filled palms squeezing at the plush fat. He seemingly ignored the fact that my underwear—the most annoying fact to exist—was still on.
Until his fingers began to trace along the pink lace. Slowly, carefully, and lazily he dragged the pad of his digit all over my panties, feeding some new whim of his.
I watched him for a while as he led with his own agenda. Until I couldn’t sit still without some answer.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?”
“Am I?” He retorted, his eyes darting to meet mine.
His touch burned with the thrill of tease as he gradually followed the edges towards the inseam of my panties. The pad of his middle finger was all he relied on as he carefully traced the puffy lips of my pussy.
His finger sunk between my clothes lips, just for his discovery to be rewarded with the bud of my clit. That’s when Ushijima pinned his stare on me, antagonizing me into a game of endurance.
Those aimless strokes turned into a series of sloppy circles, Ushijima claiming my clit as his latest victim in his game of taunts.
A whine cracked from behind my lips, something was stirring deep within me. He’s just teasing me but yet it was enough for my legs to tremble and my core to grow heavy with desire. How the fuck was he doing this to me?
A sigh from Ushijima broke my train of jumbled thoughts, bringing me back into the hellish scene.
His breath fanned over the supple skin of my inner thigh, the heat inducing tremors to rake through my limbs.
“Aw, I’m making a mess, “ Ushijima sighed. “Oh well.”
He drew himself back from me, fidgeting with the buttons of his shirt. He plucked his shirt open one button at a time, stopping just midway of his chest.
I closed my legs, allowing him to tug my soaked pink pantiesf rom beneath me and off somewhere in the room. Ushijima returned to his post between my thighs—prying my legs apart for him to fill once again. His heavy arms curled around my thighs, his cheek nuzzled against the plumped skin.
My face swelled with heat as he continued his marvels, his hand cupping my cunt. His thick fingers settled against my lips, spreading the fat supple mounds apart for him to see.
“Oh, Y/N…” He mumbled, pulling my hips closer to his awaiting tongue.
A scattered sigh tore out from Ushijima’s mouth, tickling my bare pussy with its heat.
His heavy eyes were pinned to the raw sight he created of my pussy. I watched as his sights flickered over the scene, enticing his teeth to digging into his bottom lip. Determination painted his face with its fierce hues that it even fanned over to me. I’ve never had a man look at my cunt with such passion. It was enough for me to even succumb to the heat of it all.
“Mm, fuck. Just lemme…” Ushijima trailed off mindlessly.
Before he could even finish his thought, his lips were already busy with peppering kisses along my dewed folds. Kisses that were wet, sloppy and kiss carried the sweet, lewd cries of Ushijima coaxing my clit to join in his dance for two.
It’s filthy the way Ushijima works at my clit—his tongue lolls about my clit lazily, leaving glimmering soapy trails of spit to drip past my folds.
Every lash he delivers is a thoughtful one; the warm, soft flat of his tongue dragging against the puffy pearl, the sticky mess he’d made out of my clit clinging to the grooves of his tongue.
His lips are like velvet, left plump by the kisses we’d given on each just moments before. And to have those same luscious lips envelope my clit into a world that was nothing short of dizzying.
Just the thought of his ministrations alone left my clit spry, the bundle of nerves twitching within the confines of Ushijima’s sloppy mouth. He busied himself with a soporific rhythm, suckling at the rathe bud just for kicks.
Ushijima peered at me through dilated pupils, those olive hues flickering all about my face. I couldn’t imagine the sight he had of me being committed to memory: puffy lips spilling with drool, close eyes screwed shut, and crude, whimsical curses ripping from my mouth.
“Mmhm, talk to me, Angel. feels good?”
“Mm, yesyesyes! Oh fuck, just like that Ushijima!” my voice weakly keened.
Awe glistened in my eyes as I watched him, mindlessly chasing an orgasm for my body to revel in. Yet, my drowsy lids were pinned to his jaw, bearing the weight of his hunger. Something came over me, a sense of adoration. So, I reached out to cup his jaw, grazing along what worked so hard to pull an orgasm out of me.
My thumb settled along the highs of his cheek, stroking at his flustered skin. He’s doing such a good job on my behalf, how couldn’t I thank him?
“Oh, that’s it. Y’re doing a good job, Ushijima,” I praised, sharing a weak grin.
“Oh, I’m not done with you yet, pretty girl,” he chuckled softly.
In place of his lips, Ushijima brought a single digit nip at my entrance. He drew lazy circles around my slit, prepping me for what’s to come.
He’s gentle, easing barely half an inch of his digit inside. My walls grew lax for Ushijima, sucking his long thick fingers to fill my pussy.
He made me so sensitive that just off that, I was whimpering out babbles to fall on no one’s ears in particular. Yet Ushijima still took heed to be kind with me.
“Shhh, just take me, baby. ‘m gonna go as slow as you want me to,” he assured.
I didn’t feel his hand move from my thigh, but it did, reaching out for my own. Through my drunken senses, I managed to welcome his hand into mine, our fingers folding over one another.
Bit by bit, Ushijima’s finger filled my gummy walls. He really was gentle, moving when my walls were lax and willing. He drove his finger to the hilt, only to slowly pull his digit back.
“Oh…fuckkk…s’ pretty,” he slurred, passing a glance back towards me.
“Tell me where you want me.”
“Just curl your finger up--- oooh fuck!” I mewled, tossing my head back against the couch.
My hands followed suit, splitting away from Ushijima to grip along the couch’s frame behind my head. When I had Ushijima in my sights again, it wasn’t without a smug grin crowding his visage.
“So…is it here?” Ushijima asked, the pad of his digit lightly pulsing at my sweet spot.
“Mhm, right there. Just keep doing that.”
“Aww, Y/N, you shouldn’t have told me that—‘m gonna have fun with you now.”
Ushijima snickered as he returned to my clit, inviting the perked bud to melt over his tongue all over again. I trembled at the combined notions, sending an arch to overwhelm my spine.
“W-Wait, Ushi–That’s too much, ‘m already so close!”
Ushijima merely nodded, my words essentially falling onto deaf ears. Electricity licked all throughout my body, sending twitches to rattle my weak legs. I couldn’t take it, Ushijima’s finger toying with my sweet spot, he was setting me on course for the high of my life.
“W-Wakatoshi! Toshi–fuck, ‘m cumming!” I cried, my lungs grasping for what air could enter.
Ushijima’s finger plugged itself at my core, bringing a seizing crash to break over my body. Every ounce of me held firm, shivering to bear the weight of my chased high. My hips waved against the pad of his digit, riding out the end of my ecstasy off whatever friction would be found.
Ushijima withdrew his finger from my cunt, leaving my poor hold bare and gaping for something else to fill me. He brought that sullied digit straight to his mouth , sucking my honey off his fingers as he gleamed over me. Sporadic breaths chimed through the sex-stained air, my chest buckling to keep up with me.
“That’s a good girl,” Ushijima cooed. “Cumming so hard for me. Look at what you did to me.”
Ushijima stood from my legs, his hand racing to grip at his crotch. And he was right—his pants were strained thanks to his bulge, the fabric just barely holding itself together. But what caught my attention was the bubbly mess of precum foaming through his slacks.
“Didn’t even touch me and you made me cum, should be proud,” he chuckled.”But that’s fine, we’re even…for now.”
“And what does that mean?” I asked, shifting myself to lay along the couch.
“Let’s find out what I mean together.”
Ushijima quickly stripped himself of his clothes coaxing me to strip of whatever clothing was left on me as well. As he removed his clothing, my eyes hinged on his bare body—taut muscles highlighted his towering frame. He’s ribbed with strength chiseled to suit his build.
A thick trail of faint brown hair from his belly button guided down to the sight resting between his legs. He’s big, cock so heavy with lust that it needed no help to rise on its own. His cock was topped by a thick, fat reddened bulb, dribbling with glossy tears. His length was tanned, adorned with veins from the poor pressure building at his core. I watched as Ushijima settled himself between my legs, his dick slapping down against my tummy.
"See? Look how deep I'm gonna go," he smirked, his hand gripped at the base of his cock.
I laid my head on the couch’s armrest, lying in wait for Ushijima's next move.
Ushijima placed his painfully hard cock to lay within my folds, my clit smothered beneath the weight.
“I’m gonna go slow, okay?"
I nodded as I peered down to watch Ushijima nudged at my hole with the head of his cock, slowly prying my slit to greet his girth.
“Fuh—pretty pussy’s taking me in already. Griping me s’ fucking tight,” Ushijima seethed, his hands griping along the couch’s cushions.
My walls supplied Ushijima’s cock with gushing kisses, fluttering about his throbbing length. He kept working to bury himself to the hilt, dipping his hips to engulf my senses with nothing but him—his scent, his ardor, his fat bulbous heat fixated on digging out my cunt.
“Y’re so big, Toshi! Fuck, go deeper!”
“Nuh uh, “Ushijima tutted as his eyes came to a screwed shut. “Don’t be so greedy, Baby. I got you, just…—shit—feel me, okay? His honeyed voice whimpered.
I nodded softly, watching as Ushijima’s hips finally granted my wish. I couldn’t help but squeeze him in place, my walls fluttering around him. He was just so huge, filling out every inch of my pussy like it was nothing. My lashes grew heavy from the bubbling sear of tears lining my eyes. This pain—an intoxicating stretch sent me down a spiral of, being so full like this by Ushijima was something I was enthralled by the feeling of being so full and stretched around him.
Ushijima took notice too as he looked down at the unfolding scene.
“Aw look, you took every inch! ‘m s-so…proud of you,” Ushijima huffed out.
He leaned over me, pressing his chest flush against my own, resting his forehead within the crook of my neck. He brought his world crashing into mine, the heat of our bodies melding into one. I could even sense his heartbeat, thumping a languid aria into my skin. All I wanted to do was hold him, to have this moment last for as long as we could. But considering the throbbing mess he’d been reduced to, lust reigned over all other senses.
“I’m gonna start moving,” Ushijima mumbled into my dewed skin. “Just…talk to me, Princess. Just wanna see that face when you cum for me again…so fuckin’ bad.”
He reeled his hips back weakly, striping my walls of the salacious fill of him. He drew himself just enough to have the tip just barely slipping from out of me, only for him to stuff every inch of him to the hilt.
“T-Toshi! Ohmygosh!” I squealed, sending my hands to brace along the thick of his forearms.
“I-I know. ‘m sorry! H-Here, gonna kiss it all better,” Ushijima groaned, his lips sloppily crashing into mine.
Through all this, Ushijima’s hips rocked gently, working a cadence just for me. Slow yet deep allowed the red, weeping bulb of his cock to chip away at my need for dominance. Each reel of his cock enticed my walls to ease in his care, granting him to move that much quicker.
And within those passing moments, the quiet squelches erupted into the lewd cymbals of clashing skin breaking into the air. Ushijima drove his cock to the hilt with ease.
The same fate befell him, his quiet and restrained grunts now morphed into quivering sobs. His lips now dressed a heavy pout, dripping with his spit and carrying his weary words.
“Keep squeezing like that ‘nd I’m gonna cum."
“M-Me too, Toshi! I’m so close!”
I perched myself onto my elbows, urgent to close the valley left to exist between our two worked bodies.
Not a word had to fall from my lawless tongue for Ushijima to soothe my wants. He leaned in, hunching over to blur our worlds into one. His hand snaked around to brace the nape of my neck, bestowing a gentle grip over me just to keep me close. He pressed his forehead flush against my own, beads of sweat dotting my skin.
Our lips remained poised in the heat of our budding passion, catching every whimsical babble we had to each other..
I couldn’t resist smothering him in a kiss, lazily catching every moan to ring from his chest. He was working so hard on my behalf, driving himself mad, sweaty, and depleted just to please me—oh, how lucky was I?
He broke away from our messy kiss, muttering some mantra that seemed to grasp his concern more.
He retreated back onto his haunches, pinning his sights on the messy canvas he’d made of my cunt. His thumb, the pad of his digit etching loose loops over the cherried pearl.
I reached out to brace his wrist, pulling his hand to lay atop my tummy.
“Nuh uh, don’t wanna cum like that. J-just keep—fuck! Please don’t stop!” I sobbed, rolling my ensnared hips to match Ushijima’s tempo.
“Aww cumming already? Better make a mess or else I'm not stopping til you do.”
“Ooo-oh fuck, I-I can make a mess! Just fr’ you.”
From that pledge Ushijima and I made, a fever dream broke out over the room. A dream fueled by sinful fervor that claimed any sense Ushijima and I had down to nothing. All we had on the brain was each other, doing our own part helping each meet our peaks.
As for me, he’s rendered me dumb and drunk over his cock, feeding my sweet spot with his deliciously thick girth. Dumb hiccuping babbles were all I could muster. My plushy walls were consumed by a familiar flutter, my inevitable high teetering on the edge.
“ToshiToshi, right there! I’m gonna—!" The word trapped itself within my throat, only to be replaced by a blubbering whimper.
A spell of heat licked at every nerve in my body. My eyes were sent rolling into the back of my head as my overwhelmed body coaxed my poor ruined cunt to weep, a burst of tears gushing over Ushijima’s flexed abdomen.
“Good fucking girl, making a mess just like I asked. I wanna—fuck!—'m wanna cum with you too!”
The peak of my high left me just barely conscious, my eyes heavy with the sudden heft of fatigue. Through the thick gathering of my lashes, I gawked at Ushijima, his own nirvana finally crashing down around him.
“Oh—‘m cumming! Y/N, I'm gonna cum!”
Ushijima trembled as his rutting hips came to a stuttering halt. He frantically ripped himself from inside of me, the roused nerves of his cock sent into a twitching frenzy. Nuzzling the bulbous head along my inner thigh, the warm tears of white painted skin, followed by a clogged groan pouring from Ushijima’s gaping mouth.
He collapsed on top of me, his lungs desperately heaving for air. I laced my arms around him, taking my digits through his unkempt hair as he came down.
“Shhh, it’s okay, I got you. Just relax,” I hummed softly.
Ushijima and I lay on that couch for a while longer, neither of us ready to move. As I combed through his hair, he kept a hand on my stomach, tapping away at some tempo to soothe himself. Just a quiet, peaceful reflection of the practices he and I had done.
He was right, I don't think I'll need another lover after that. My legs were practically useless, my throat sore, and my body was still reeling from the temors of my high. Even Ushijima still shivered from time to time. That moment was something straight out of a movie, calm, quiet, and filled with a growing fondness.
To my surprise, Ushijima was the first to break the silence with a question.
“So about our date, what time works—“
“Oh! You were serious about that?!”
Ushijima nodded, “Well…yes. I know it was an exercise but I really wanted to take you out somewhere nice. And I actually do know a place around here with a huge wine cellar.”
My head fell into a tilt as I studied Ushijima for a second. He’s back to his regular “stoic” self but this time every feature in his face was softened—his brows, his lips, his eyes; all carried a bout of sincerity. I simply had no heart to deny him, especially now knowing what kind of man he was in the face of rapture.
“Y’know what, Ushijima,” I purred as my hand reached to cup his cheek.
“I’d like that.”
TAGS: @po3ticb3auty @dabilovesme @ebiharachan @kenmasbimbo @pixelsanji @slaughterakira @woahhajime @pulchritxde-blog @hannas16 @champagnej @shuxjodie @just-yer-average-key @bontensbabygirl @tojitsukaisen @serenareiss @dejwrld @screampied @omniuravity @sweeneyblue1 @yukihime-mikeys-girl @kazusugar @missyasma @simpliheavenli @desiray562 @sleepilysworld @lovemegood @luvrdrop @nuttyunknowndetective-blog @tojibreedingme @widepipepaladiknight @nekoriots @rainycami @tonaken @holychocopie @bloobrryktty @hon3ybee-3 @dabis0bitch @your-next-daydream @mx-luvzz @akiko0-0 @whore02 @tojianddabisslut @dana-fite @downtownbabya @littlemochi @prettiestjade @luvvvjada @keijimilk
#ushijima x reader#ushijima smut#ushijima wakatoshi x reader#ushijima wakatoshi#ushijima#haikyuu ushijima#ushijima x you#anime smut#cw smut#cw sex mention#haikyuu smut#ushiwaka#x fem!reader#haikyuu ushiwaka#fem reader#haikyuu x reader smut#hq ushijima#haikyuu x you
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It's been so fascinating to see how strongly people react to Toshiro in Dungeon Meshi. When I first read that scene I didn't feel hurt by Toshiro's rejection of Laois at all, I was more shocked at Laios raising a hand to him in anger because Laios had always felt like a man free from such anger and aggression. Although it was very powerful to see that Laios was capable of feeling such a way. I felt the scene was very emotionally charged and an important moment for both characters.
So when I started hearing about how hurt other people were at seeing Toshiro lash out in frustration towards Laios, and seeing people express discomfort towards Toshiro I was surprised but not confused. Honestly I was more surprised at myself for not having a similar reaction because I have also been subject to being led on in "friendships" that the other person secretly despised (or at least did NOT feel the same). It can be very hurtful to discover that someone has built a resentment towards you but never made any attempt to clear the air with you until a point of crisis.
I am autistic and I struggle a lot with relationships but in this instance I didn't see myself in Laios' shoes (although I have been there) instead I found myself relating to Toshiro. A man trapped by social expectations, rigid rules of engagement hammered into him from a young age, only to discover that there is someone who does not follow these rules at all. Even more bizarrely they seem completely free from any of the consequences that would befall Toshiro if he ever deviated from his carefully cultivated mask.
I can say from experience it is confronting to try and unpack your own high masking trauma while also feeling compelled to support the low masking autistic person in your life. Even if the other person means no ill will and has not truly done anything wrong, having them unknowingly walk all over you can be enough to push you to a breaking point. There is an intense frustration that comes with seeing someone else get away with not following the social rules you have beaten yourself painfully into shape to fit.
Yes Toshiro could have chosen any moment to correct Laios on his name, or clarify his discomfort or his personal boundaries, but that is operating under the assumption that Toshiro feels safe enough to do so. He is a stranger in a strange land, and often in that position it is a safer choice to subject yourself to a level of discomfort simply to keep the general peace. Where my fellow high maskers at? We make biting our tongue a fucking art.
#Could Toshiro have approached the topic in a more gentle manner? Yes#But in that vein Laios could have checked in with Toshiro and made sure he got his name right or that he also felt the same way etc#thats the beauty of this story#no one is right or wrong theyre just people#and despite their differences they do have a level of respect for one another#god I love#Dungeon Meshi#shuro#toshiro dungeon meshi#laios dungeon meshi#laios touden#DONT even get me started on Kabru hes got me in even more of a chokehold than these two
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May I ask why you dislike Malleus so much?
[My TWST character tier list is here.]
[For context on why I dislike Malleus: here and here!]
Many of the reasons previously cited above are still applicable presently (though some points may be outdated since those posts were written before book 7). In this post, I will mostly be focusing on why my thoughts on Malleus have not changed despite the new added content of book 7.
I ramble on for a bit, so I put my thoughts below the cut! Ah—but before you read, please be aware that these are my opinions and not meant to be disparaging to any Malleus likers out there.
Me disliking him should not take away any of your joy!! Go out there and love him for me ^^
A lot of the things happening in book 7 were a long time coming, so really I felt as though Malleus finally “losing it” was affirming of all the red flags from before. Since day 1, his loneliness, aloofness, and awkwardness around his peers were key traits of his. What book 7 does is it magnifies the darkest aspects of his character.
We’ve seen several examples when Malleus has fits of rage and his power flares out of control or he at least threatens it. In Glorious Masquerade, he becomes enraged at the realization that the invitation he received was a false one. In A Firelit Sky, he insinuates that he would be upset if people questioned his presence for the trip. He crushes Lilia’s phone in his own Dorm Uniform vignettes, destroying a friend’s belonging because he was upset about not being invited to an occasion. In book 7, we see a flashback of Malleus freezing the whole castle as a child because his grandmother, overtaken by her duties, could no longer dine with him as promised. Malleus’s temper has been a persistent issue since childhood.
We’ve also seen him act callously toward his classmates and misuse magic to force his will upon them. Remember him stopping time during Endless Halloween Night? How he wanted some ghosts to enjoy themselves instead of missing out on being with everyone for the holiday? Now he’s stopping time in book 7 and keeping everyone in their happy dreams forever. Remember how (in his Dorm Uniform vignettes) Malleus thought it would be easier to make the other dorm leaders come to him instead of him coming to them for their meeting? So then he disregards their autonomy and casts magic that’s normally cast on objects on living beings (something which the other dorm leaders take offense to, as it is dehumanizing). He fails to consider their perspective when he returns to Diasomnia (he basically goes, “well, I wouldn’t have been mad if they cast that spell on me!”). Malleus learns nothing from the experience despite Lilia trying to tell him over and over to be more considerate of others and how different they are from him. Now we have Malleus relating his peers to a virtual pet that he never ever wants to leave him.
Malleus can be stubborn and arrogant. He has a very single-minded way of thinking and often does not consider others’ feelings before he makes the decision for them. Malleus can be insecure. He doesn’t even fully realize he is lonely until Yuu suggests it in book 7, but he’s capable of acting on his bouts of intense emotion. He has always had these flaws, and now they are being brought out in full; we’re being forced to confront OB Malleus and all the complicated, twisting feelings of abandonment that come with him.
Let’s make one thing very clear: I don’t take issue with the overblot boys in general; they are meant to be morally grey characters that act in dubious ways. It would be insincere for me to claim “I dislike Malleus because he did bad things!” News flash, many TWST characters have done bad things or at least questionable things that would give you pause. What separates Malleus from the others and makes him egregious enough to earn significant ire from me is the particular actions he takes (which triggers a personal disdain of mine).
Malleus consistently exerts a scary amount of control over others. This is not a new idea; Riddle and Vil are also notorious for being oppressive or controlling, and I’ll be the first to admit that. (You’ll note that those two are low on my tier list too.) The thing is, Riddle and Vil were very overt and open about their demands for obedience. Malleus can be too, but it’s so insidious how he acts within the dreams. He ignores people’s autonomy, gaslights others, and, again, acts like he knows what’s best for them 💀 Other characters have done these things too, but never to the same scale or by exerting this much power. Malleus then resorts to violence when his lies don’t work, even though he’s fully aware of the power disparity between him and his peers. It feels particularly scummy to me because of how Malleus frames his selfish actions and feelings (his wish for Lilia to not leave) as selfless (for the benefit of his peers) and something everyone else would want in order to justify it to himself 💦 I know he is in (or bordering on) overblot so he wasn’t thinking rationally at that point, plus the fact that many examples I listed come from events or vignettes which may not be canon to the main story timeline. Still, there is a concerning pattern of behavior with Malleus misusing his powers or not being considerate of others and failing to grow from those mistakes. You can only go “oopsie” so many times before you harm someone by accident. I expect people to learn their lesson by then and adopt some proper restraint. He keeps claiming his intentions are good as if that’s supposed to dismiss any harm that results from his actions??? No, his actions still harmed people and he has to deal with the consequences of them, not have them hand-waved away or excused. The behavior I’m witnessing is reminiscent of like… having a toxic friend that is constantly told “hey, what you’re doing/saying makes me feel uncomfortable; do you think you could dial it back?” and the friend tells you they’ll try but then never actually changes their behavior or defends their behavior with “I didn’t mean to, so therefore I did not actually harm anyone”.
You can give me a backstory, but a backstory only goes so far as explaining why he is the way he is; it does not excuse him at all. You can say “He’s a fairy! He’s sheltered!” until the cows come home, but when he relies on magic to quickly fix the problems he caused instead of stopping to genuinely reflect on why people are mad at him, it’s hard for me to sympathize. Because of his immense power and status, the only person that can reasonably hold Malleus accountable is himself, and he has not demonstrated to me that he can do that.
Book 7 is essentially the payoff for allllll the tropes and traits I never liked to begin with coming into fruition. That’s why Malleus has stayed where he is in my TWST character ranking. I did not expect the writing, no matter how good or tear-jerking, to change that. Until Malleus shows that he’s fully apologetic, recognizes the error of his ways, and consciously tries to connect with others and understand their perspectives, he’s staying squarely where he is.
Am I saying a character with flaws is a bad thing? No, absolutely not! Flaws are what make a character interesting, I’m not faulting Malleus or any other characters for having them. Am I saying that he is poorly written? No, I think Malleus is actually quite a complex character and he’s been really fascinating to follow. I love the emotional complexity of book 7–and it was so clever how the devs related his virtual pet to wishing for happily ever afters for people in his real life. This magnitude of danger is also just about what I expect of book 7 and the themes of togetherness that TWST was angling for from the start. But the fact remains unchanged that I perceive his attitude as irritating at best and reprehensible at worst.
My distaste for Malleus is based entirely on my own views and life experiences. The specific flaws Malleus has and how he acts because of them don’t sit well with me and the kinds of things I enjoy in fiction. It’s not anything deeper than that!
#twst#twisted wonderland#Malleus Draconia#disney twisted wonderland#disney twst#book 7 spoilers#notes from the writing raven#question#Riddle Rosehearts#Vil Schoenheit#Lilia Vanrouge#a firelit sky spoilers#glorious masquerade spoilers#malleus dorm uniform vignette spoilers#endless halloween night spoilers#Yuu
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Dominant (NSFW) FT Haseul
Author’s note: Wanted to experiment a bit so I did a little something for @blanceverlast
"What do you mean I'm a surrogate baby?" I ask my parents.
"Well, JJ, you know we've had fertility issues, so we turned to surrogacy for help," my mom explains, but I narrow my eyes, questioning why this revelation is only surfacing now.
"Well, your 'mom' would like to meet you," my mother adds.
"And what does she do?" I ask, puzzled.
The plane ride to South Korea overwhelmed me; I never imagined my "mom" would be so far away. Yet, surrogacy can originate from anywhere, I suppose. As I sit in the back of the plane, my seatmate approaches.
She wears a mask, yet there's an enchanting aura about her. Smiling (or at least I assume so, judging by her eyes), she sits beside me. The plane takes off, and we sit in silence. Despite my efforts to stay awake, exhaustion eventually overtakes me, and I drift off to sleep.
Upon awakening, I feel a lightweight on my shoulders. I crane my neck to see my seatmate. Her mask has slipped down, revealing her face. As our eyes meet, arousal floods through me.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to bother you," she says, smiling.
Enraptured by her beauty, I stumble over my response. "I'd love it if you bothered me. Wait, no... you're no bother."
She smiles and sits up across from me. "Call me Haseul," she says with a pleasant voice. I smile back, extending my hand for her to shake.
"JJ charmed to meet you," I reply. Haseul takes my hand happily.
"So, what brings you to Korea?" she inquires.
I hesitate, searching for an appropriate response. "Um, my surrogate wanted to meet me," I reply. Haseul looks at me, puzzled, before smiling.
"Okay," she says before taking out her tablet. I glance over her shoulder, and she catches me.
"Do you like Kaiju research?" she teases, having caught me off guard. Surprisingly, I enthusiastically replied yes. Haseul's eyes flicker with interest.
"Oh? Then look this over and tell me what you see," she says confidently, handing me the tablet. I study the notes and diagrams, absorbing the information.
"This is a new species of Kaiju," I declare.
Haseul looks surprised. "Wait, how did you deduce all of that from my research?"
"Well, the DNA sequence at the 8th and 24th helix links is wholly different from any other Kaiju in the same family. Plus, if you examine the dorsal plates aligning with the spine, there's an unusual vein structure depicted in them," I explain.
Haseul's eyes widen in astonishment. "How did you notice all of that?"
"I like Kaiju," I admit.
Haseul looks impressed and asks me to go over all the research she just completed. Over the next several hours, we fill the time pouring over her findings. By the end of the flight, we've barely scratched the surface of this new Kaiju she accidentally discovered.
"Shit, we need more time. Hey, when you're done visiting your 'surrogate,' come to this lab," Haseul says as we pack up. She hands me a business card and her personal cell number. As we prepare to go our separate ways upon landing, I notice a dark-skinned woman who sees me and says, "James?" I look at her before Haseul pops up behind me.
"Yuma, you know JJ?" Haseul asks.
"Yes, he's my son," Yuma replies in English before saying something else in Korean that I don't understand.
Haseul's eyes widened as she smiled knowingly. The two women led me to a van, and we all piled in. Yuma remained silent for a while before speaking up, "You're probably hungry, James. Are you in the mood for anything?" she asked hopefully.
I nodded, replying, "Teriyaki Chicken sounds great about now." Haseul burst into laughter, causing Yuma and me to turn to her.
"What's so funny?" I asked. Haseul responded between chuckles, "You really are Yuma’s son. She loves teriyaki chicken as well," teasing with a cheeky smile. I shrugged, and Haseul's smile softened into an unfamiliar emotion. I chuckle as we get the food to go before piling back in the car.
We arrived at the laboratory, and Yuma took me aside to her office. "You’re probably wondering why I brought you here, why I did all of this," she said with a crooked smile similar to mine.
"Well, I just wanted to meet you and talk to you," she explained.
"I carried you to pay for my doctorate in Kaiju studies. I read field books to you while you were in my tummy, watching marathons of Godzilla, and Gamera movies while I studied just to stay awake, and feel you kick. It made me reconsider numerous times if I should give you up, but I was in no space to take care of a child. So I buried my growing feelings and went to term, but recently I have been feeling this gnawing emptiness. Against my better judgment, I reached out to your parents to meet you. I just wanted to hold my baby boy one more time," she said, hugging me tightly.
"A baby boy who's not so baby anymore,"
Yuma said, and I chuckled at her observation. A feeling of safety washed over me, and tears poured from my eyes. Before any other words could be said, a voice interrupted us. A big, burly man entered the room and said, "Excuse me, Yuma, you are needed." My "mom" broke the hug and smiled at me.
As I waited in the office, the door opened, and Haseul popped in. "Oh, great, you're here. Can I get your help with something?" she asked with a mischievous smile. I hesitated but couldn't resist her, so I nodded.
"Good boy," she purred, and I felt a strange sensation as she kissed me. Haseul broke the kiss and smiled. "Good, now you're nice and dumb. I need your help looking over a few charts for me, and I need you not to overthink," she said with authority. My mind was left in a hazy fog as she led me into the room.
I put my headphones in as Haseul sat at her desk and asked me to go over and aggregate some data charts. She handed me a laptop and an Excel sheet, and I diligently compiled and aggregated the numbers she'd asked for, going above and beyond by conducting a qualitative analysis of Kaiju markings and identifying outliers and notable specimens. When my "mom" came to look for me, I'd finished a substantial amount of work.
"Oh, JJ, there you are," she said as she entered the office. I looked up and nodded. She walked over and examined what I was doing, furrowing her brows before turning to Haseul, who was deeply engrossed in her work. A smile crept onto my lips as I watched her. My mom noticed and smirked before addressing Haseul, "Um, excuse me, but I think my son has helped you do half your work."
Haseul looked up at my mom and quickly apologized, "Oh, Mrs. Yuma, I'm so sorry, but JJ has been so helpful."
"I can see that. His notes on your compilation have been extensive," my mom teased. Haseul turned red but quickly pressed on, "It's not just that; he has an almost ocean-deep knowledge of Kaiju."
I shrugged, "I just like them," I responded. Haseul smiled, and I felt that strange sensation again, but this time, it was more intense. My mom noticed and smirked as we headed back to her place. On the way back, she asked me a question I 100% expected.
"Do you like Haseul?" I nodded, and my mom smirked, "Be careful with her," was her only warning. Sadly (but not really), I didn't heed it.
Haseul’s claws (she's a Red Panda Kaijin) were comforting and sexy even before she wrapped them around my throat. She started small with pet names like my puppy or Handsome. Then came some light flirty glances and touches. That's what sealed the deal I was hers. Her little pup to mold and shape how she saw fit.
This all culminated in the day before I left. I helped her and my mom finish something and Haseul said, “Oh my little pup so dumb but eager to please,” my brain broke and I responded (thankfully my mom wasn't there to hear this)
“Oh please fuck me dumb. Mark me and claim me as yours Haseul,” Haseul smirked at me. Her eyes narrowed as her scent filled my nostrils leaving me lightheaded and aroused. She slipped over to me and sat on my lap. Her voice took on a Saccharine and lurid pitch as she spoke,
“Oh my needy pup, what makes you think you deserve my touch,” she coos and I moan which turns her smirk into a wicked smile. If it wasn't clear to her before it was now. I am her little pup. I'm only hers to play with and manipulate as she sees fit. One hand palms my hardening cock and the other wraps itself around my throat. She smiles maliciously as my breath hitches and her control over me becomes absolute. She extends her talons enough to draw blood but my horny head only draws a euphoric pleasure from the sensation.
“I could rip your throat out and you'd ask me if you were a good little pet?” she said which elicited another moan from me, “Oh dumb pup I'm going to have fun training you.” Haseul gloated, as she began to stroke my rod.
As she did she licked my blood off of her talons the lurid sight drove me to new heights. After she licked the blood off her talons she licked my neck where she pierced me. I felt the wounds begin to heal as she eyed me with a ravenous hunger before telling me, open your mouth for me pup, and stick your tongue out.” I follow her command and she sucks my tongue while it's out before inching closer until our lips touch and devours me in a kiss. I resign myself to being her prey, she smiles viciously and then abruptly stops. My body jolts at her with a drawl of touch.
“Later my puppy. I don't want you to make a mess,” Haseul replies. I groan and get up trying to relax and take my mind off of her touch
Before I could walk off Haseul said, “No stay!” I returned to her as she commanded. She smiles. “I trained you so well. What a good boy.” Haseul says with her most proud and soothing tone.
“Sit” Haseul commands and I do. She revels in her power over me. I'm just so happy to see her happy.
“So here is how it's going to go puppy. I am going to not touch you for the rest of the day but when we get off meet me at my apartment and we will finish what we started,” Haseul said seductively. I nod and she smiles. We get back to work and she says, “Good boy,”
After I finish my “work” my mom has to stay late and leaves in the care of Haseul. Before I leave my mom gives me a rather large sum of won and says “Treat Haseul well tonight.” I nod and we drive off. I ride with Haseul and ask
“You hungry,” Haseul nods and we decide to head to a nearby restaurant. It's a pizza joint. We get in and I sit with Haseul. I'm nervous as this is a very different level type of intimacy that we haven't shared before. I swallow my nerves and go for the safest compliment I could think of. “Your glasses are great really show off how your eyes are dazzling,” I say. Haseul beams with a shy smile. “Oh, so that's the way to turn the tables,” I tease. Haseul narrows her eyes.
“Careful pup. I can take you to heaven tonight or leave you in purgatory,” Haseul says bitingly. I smile
“What so funny?” Haseul asks accusingly.
“Haseul I'm not trying to do anything funny I just really like you and no it's not just because of all “claiming” you've done. You're witty, compassionate, and gorgeous. Plus you like all the dumb stuff I like. Why would I upset you,” I reply Haseul blushes intensely before our food arrives. We eat in relative silence but Haseul makes sure I'm full and hydrated. She reasons that she wants her puppy to be ready for his walk. We entered her apartment and she excused herself to her bedroom before calling for my help.
And now you're all caught up
“So my pretty Firebear, what would you like to do first,” I ask. Haseul smiles
“Ooh, I like that,” Haseul coos, and our lips meet.
We break out first kiss and she smiles before pouncing on me. She rips open my pants and shirt before saying, “Be a good little puppy, and let me ride you,”
Haseul takes me inside her and my mind goes blank. She’s so tight. I try to formulate words but she starts to grind her crotch against mine. She leans in closer and says, “Oh my little puppy isn't so little,” I moan at her expert control over my body. Her touch is delicate but powerful. I watch as she sets her hands down and uses me as a tool for her pleasure.
“How is it,” I ask eagerly to see if I can grant her higher satisfaction Haseul moans out
“Oh God Puppy you fill me up so well,” I smile seeing Haseul lose herself to the pleasure. Her folds are soft and giving but viciously tight causing the friction between us to become so intense that I can't help but moan out as my mind turns into further slurry.
Watching me devolve seems to excite Haseul more as she gets tighter.
“Is my needy little puppy gonna cum,” she asks I groan and she laughs, “Come on puppy. Use your words.”
Haggard, I rasped out (in English ), “fuck take me. claim me as yours!” Haseul smiled
“Oh I like it when you lose control and your native tongue comes out,” she coos. My cock swells within her as her pussy tightens around me.
“That's right my little dumb slut to be used and abused,” Haseul said before wrapping her hand around my throat my breathing hitched as the terror and pleasure mixed. I couldn't think straight and just fed into her degradation of me,
“Yes, I'm your slutty puppy. I'm only good for my cock which doesn’t deserve to cum,” I watch as Haseul's eyes widen at my words. she smiles,
"Yes You're my puppy who only cums when I want him to and you've been such a good puppy," she says moaning as I can feel her near her release. "Now Puppy cum with me," Haseul says while moaning. I groan as her words and her pussy push me to release. we cum together and Haseul Smiles.
"Good puppy," she coos, as we pass out
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Idea for fic: enemies to lovers Dom older Spencer and f reader with age gap can’t stand eachother at work and then away on a case they get paired up to be in a room and there’s one bed anyways reader goes and showers and comes out wearing nothing but her bra and panties since she left her tank top the bed and Spencer is shocked and teases her all night and thennnnn rest is history😏
A/N: has this been sat in my inbox for over 3 months? Yes. I hope this makes up for the wait, sorry it tool awhile :( but I did see it when it was first asked, but I’ve been dealing with a lot in the past few months, and I’ve been dealing with some writers block. But I hope you guys enjoy it :)
Summary: Basically what ANON asked for. Spencer and reader hate each other, but Emily has a plan that could resolve all the issues or make them worse.
Content: Fem!reader. Dom!Reid/Sub!reader. Use of Y/N. Spanking. Degradation kink. Praise Kink. Power imbalance kink (kind off). Use of sir, slut, good girl and sweetheart. PinV/creampie. No mentions of contraception. No mentions of aftercare.
Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation
You and Spencer hated each other. Maybe it’s because Spencer felt genuine competition from you, or maybe it was because you seemed to effortlessly outshine him in everything you did. And well you hated him, because every time Spencer walked into a room, he carried with him an air of superiority that grated against your nerves. You could see the jealousy in his eyes whenever someone praised your work or complimented your achievements.
Everyone had grown tired of the way you both acted around here. Emily would often call you both into her office to yell, “You are two of the best agents. Two brilliant minds. And yet no one can stand to be in the same room as you two.”
You both sat in Emily's office, the tension thick between you. Spencer shifted uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding eye contact with you as Emily’s words hung heavily in the air. You couldn't deny the truth in Emily's words - your rivalry with Spencer had reached a breaking point, affecting not only your own work but the entire team dynamic.
Emily heaved a sigh, running a hand through her hair before continuing, "This behaviour ends now. I'm not going to tolerate this any longer. I need you two to figure out a way to work together, or I will have no choice but to reassign one of you."
*
“Oh, my god. Reid, do you ever shut up?” you muttered under your breath, unable to hide your irritation at Spencer's endless rambling.
Spencer shot you a glare, his frustration evident in the way his jaw tensed. "At least I have something worthwhile to say, unlike you," he retorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "Oh, please. Your so-called facts and statistics don't mean anything in the field. It's called real-life experience, something you clearly lack."
“Lacking real-life experience? Really?” Spencer paused, his voice fuelled with anger “I am older than you, and I have experienced things you wouldn’t even believe.”
Spencer's outburst surprised you, the raw emotion in his voice catching you off guard.
“Whatever you say, Dr Reid. From now on I’ll just worship the ground you walk on, shall I?” you retorted, trying to mask your unease with a casual tone. Inside, you felt a twinge of admiration for his ability to get under your skin so easily.
Emily glared at you both from across the room, she knew she had to put an end to this, but she wasn’t sure how she was going to do that.
Spencer's nostrils flared with indignation at your remark, his eyes flashing with a mixture of hurt and frustration. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could utter a word, Emily's stern voice cut through the tension like a knife.
"That's enough!" Emily's command was sharp, her gaze piercing. "I've had it with this childish bickering between you two. This behaviour is unprofessional and completely unacceptable."
You both fell silent under Emily's unwavering stare, guilt creeping into your conscience as her words echoed in the room. The weight of her disappointment hung heavy in the air, suffocating the animosity between you and Spencer.
"I don't care who started it or whose ego is hurt more," Emily continued, her tone firm. "What I care about is that you two find a way to work together effectively. The team's safety and success depend on it."
*
Emily was sick and tired of how the both of you acted, and she knew she needed to act fast. She didn’t want to lose either of you, but she also couldn’t let things carry on. So, she devised a plan, one that could go horribly wrong or one that could go perfectly.
*
“Hey, everybody.” Emily’s voice echoed through the jet, “the hotel we are staying at doesn’t have enough rooms for us all to have our own.” She paused for a brief second, she didn’t want anyone to catch on to her, “so, Rossi and I will have our own room. Tara and JJ, you’ll share, Luke and Matt you’ll share and erm… Y/N and Reid you guys will also be sharing.”
You exchanged a wary glance with Spencer as Emily assigned you to share a room. “Emily, I’m sorry. But what is this? You expect me to share a room with Reid? Also assigning us rooms, what are we like thirteen or something?” you scoffed, the incredulity evident in your voice. Spencer's expression mirrored your own disbelief, his eyes widening in surprise at Emily's unexpected announcement.
Emily raised an eyebrow at your protest, her gaze unwavering. "Yes, I expect you two to share a room. It's high time you both learn to work together and put your differences aside. Consider this a team-building exercise," she stated firmly, leaving no room for argument.
You opened your mouth to protest further, but Emily's steely glare silenced any objections before they could form.
*
“Seriously, one bed. Is she serious. I hate her, just as much as I hate you.” you spat out, glaring at Spencer as you both entered the hotel room assigned to you. The tension between you was palpable, suffocating the space as you stood on opposite sides of the room. The silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the sound of Spencer's exasperated sigh.
"Believe me, the feeling is mutual," Spencer shot back, his tone laced with irritation as he surveyed the small room. The single queen-sized bed in the centre of the room seemed to mock your predicament, a constant reminder of the forced proximity between you.
“Because, unlike you, I’m nice. You can have the bed, as long as I can shower first.” You retorted, determined not to back down in this battle of wills. Spencer's jaw clenched at your words, a muscle ticking in his temple as he fought to keep his composure.
"Fine. Just make it quick," Spencer replied through gritted teeth, his pride wounded by the concession.
Before you headed towards the shower, you started to unpack, you hated keeping everything in your bag when you were in the hotel room. Once, you had finished you grabbed your essentials and headed towards the bathroom without so much as muttering a word to Spencer.
Spencer watched as you disappeared into the bathroom, the click of the door echoing in the tense silence of the room. Alone now, he took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm of emotions swirling inside him. The mere thought of sharing a room with you made his skin crawl, but he knew Emily's intentions were well-meaning, if not a little misguided.
The rush of the warm water against your skin did little to soothe the simmering frustration that lingered within you. As the steam filled the bathroom, you tried to shake off the tension that had built up between you and Spencer. But every time you closed your eyes, his infuriating presence seemed to seep through the cracks of your composure.
“Shit. Shit. Shit.” As you looked at the pile of clothes you had in the bathroom, you realised you hadn’t brought in your PJs, and all you had was a pair of panties and a bra. You were too embarrassed to ask Spencer to bring you the rest of your clothes.
You hesitated for a moment, weighing your options, but you weren’t going to be admitting defeat anytime soon, and maybe some part of you wanted to flaunt to Spencer something he could never have.
You dried yourself off and stepped out of the bathroom in just your underwear. Spencer’s eyes widened in disbelief as you emerged from the bathroom clad only in your underwear, the audacity of your actions catching him off guard. His cheeks flushed with a deep crimson hue, his gaze darting away as if to shield himself from the unexpected sight before him.
“Are you kidding me right now?” Spencer’s voice wavered slightly, a mix of shock and embarrassment colouring his tone. He struggled to maintain eye contact, opting instead to focus on a random spot on the wall.
You couldn’t help but smirk at his discomfort, a sense of satisfaction blooming within you at having turned the tables on Spencer for once. The power shift in the room was palpable, the tension crackling between you in a different way now.
“Just grabbing my clothes,” you stated nonchalantly, making no move to cover up as you retrieved your pyjamas. “Do you like what you see, Spencer?”
Spencer's cheeks burned hotter at your teasing words, his jaw clenching in a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. He struggled to find the right response, his mind racing to come up with a comeback that would regain the upper hand in this unexpected exchange.
"Very funny," Spencer finally managed to choke out, his tone strained as he averted his gaze, refusing to give you the satisfaction of seeing how flustered you had made him.
“You know the way you’re acting right now, Y/N, isn’t of someone who hates me.” Spencer teased through gritted teeth, his attempt at levity falling flat in the charged atmosphere of the room. Your smirk faltered for a split second at his remark, a flicker of something unidentifiable crossing your features before you regained your composure, your mask slipping back into place.
"Let's get one thing straight, Spencer," you retorted, your tone firm as you met his gaze head-on. "Just because I'm not actively trying to strangle you right now doesn't mean I don't still think you're insufferable." The underlying tension between you simmered beneath the surface, waiting to reignite at the slightest provocation.
Spencer raised an eyebrow at your response, a ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite himself. “Or you’re not actively strangling me, because you’d rather I’d be doing that to you.” Spencer paused, the words hanging in the charged air between you. His attempt at humour fell flat, the gravity of the situation pulling at the corners of his smile.
“What? No. What?” It was your turn to be embarrassed now as your cheeks flushed a deep shade of red at Spencer's unexpected remark.
“Oh, so I’m right. You do like the idea of me choking you.” Spencer paused, his eyes widening in realization at the slip of his words. The room seemed to hold its breath, the tension between you both reaching a new peak as his inadvertent confession hung in the air, heavy and loaded with unspoken implications.
You swallowed hard, trying to mask the sudden rush of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you. Spencer's gaze bore into yours, searching for a reaction, for any sign of the impact his words had made. And in that charged moment, something shifted between you, an invisible thread pulling you closer even as you both stood at opposite ends of the room.
“Spencer, I…” your voice wavered, uncertainty creeping into your tone as you struggled to find the right words to respond. The weight of his words hung heavy between you, begging for acknowledgement, for resolution.
“It’s okay, you don’t need to say anything. Brats like you always act out when they are attracted to someone.” Spencer paused, his gaze softening as he took a step closer to you. The air between you crackled with a newfound vulnerability, baring emotions that had long been buried beneath layers of animosity and pride.
“Spencer, you have a very active imagination. I have, erm, I have never thought of you like that.” You stumbled over your words, the admission weighing heavily on your conscience. Spencer's expression softened at your response, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his eyes as he processed your words.
“I do not believe that for one second, sweetheart.” Spencer 's voice was barely above a whisper, his words laced with a raw honesty that left no room for doubt. The tension in the room had shifted once again, morphing into a charged undercurrent that pulsed between you, drawing you closer in a dance as old as time.
In one swift motion, Spencer seemed to have place you on top of his lap, your ass up in the air, and the palm of his hand striking against your backside.
Your breath hitched at the unexpected contact, a sharp gasp escaping your lips as Spencer's touch sent a jolt of electricity through you. The sting of his hand against your skin reverberated through your body, igniting a primal fire that had long been smouldering beneath the surface.
“Now, you’re going to be a good girl, and say thank you after every time I spank you.” Spencer paused, his voice low and commanding as he laid down the rules of their newfound dynamic. Your head spun with a mixture of confusion and a strange exhilaration at the turn of events, the rush of adrenaline heightening your senses.
“Yes, sir.” You replied, your voice barely above a whisper as you complied with Spencer's demand, the unfamiliar title sending a thrill down your spine. Each strike of his hand against your skin sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you, a heady mix of pain and desire intertwining in a dangerous dance.
“Are you sorry for been a brat? For constantly picking fights with me over nothing? For making Emily do this, just so I can use you like the slut you are.” Spencer paused; his voice laced with a deliberate edge as he pushed the boundaries of your newfound dynamic. Your breath caught in your throat at his words, a surge of conflicting emotions crashing over you. The raw honesty in Spencer's tone stripped away the layers of pretence between you, exposing the raw desire that simmered beneath the surface.
“Yes, sir, I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of submission and defiance.
Spencer’s hand moved over your panties, so he could feel the ever-growing wet patch. “Do you like that? You like calling me sir, and me calling you a slut. You know for the type of brat you are out in the office or in the field, you break a lot easier than expected.”
Your breath caught in your throat as Spencer's words sent a surge of conflicting emotions coursing through you. The intensity of the moment hung heavy in the air, the boundaries between desire and shame blurring as his touch ignited a fire within you that burned hotter with each passing second.
“Yes, sir.” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as you surrendered to the overwhelming tide of sensations that pulsed through your body. The weight of his hand against your skin, the pressure of his touch against your most intimate places, all served to push you to the brink of a precipice you had never dared to explore before.
“Good girl, now stand up and take off your bra and panties.” Spencer demanded, his voice firm and authoritative. You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest as you grappled with the new dynamic unfolding between you. But you knew that you wanted this, needed this, and so you did as he commanded.
With trembling hands, you unclasped your bra and let it fall to the floor. Then, you stepped out of your panties, your legs feeling unsteady as you stood there before him, naked and exposed. The air between you was thick with desire, and you could feel Spencer's gaze raking over your body, devouring every inch of you.
"Now, bend over the table," he commanded, his voice rough with desire. You did as he said, your hands gripping the edge of the table as you lowered your body, presenting yourself to him. The cool surface of the table against your skin was a stark contrast to the heat that was building inside you. You could feel the moisture between your legs as it dripped down your thighs, a testament to the arousal that was consuming you.
Spencer stepped closer to you, his cock hard and pulsating with need. He ran his fingers through your hair, tangling them in the strands as he pulled your head back, his gaze never wavering from your exposed ass.
"You're such a naughty little slut, aren't you?" he growled, his lips brushing against your ear. "You know you want this, don't you? You've been craving my cock since the first day we met."
You could only nod in response, your body trembling with anticipation as his erection pressed against your wet sex.
"Good," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "Because I've been waiting for this moment ever since I saw you, too."
With one swift movement, he positioned himself at your entrance and thrust inside you in one smooth motion. Your eyes widened at the sudden invasion, the pleasure and pain intermingling in a way that was unlike anything you had ever experienced before.
You gasped, arching your back as his cock filled you completely. Spencer's hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as he began to move within you. His thrusts were rhythmic and powerful, filling you to the brim with each movement.
Your moans filled the room as Spencer's cock slid in and out of you, every thrust bringing you closer to the edge. Your body was on fire, every nerve ending tingling with pleasure as he fucked you hard and rough. Your mind was a blur of mixed emotions, guilt mingling with desire as you surrendered to the animalistic lust that was consuming you.
You could feel his hips slapping against your ass with each thrust, the sound of skin on skin echoing in the room. Your legs were trembling with each movement, your body submitting to his every command.
"You feel so good, baby," he groaned, his voice thick with desire. "So tight and wet. Just the way I always imagined you would be."
His words sent a rush of pleasure through you, making you clench around his cock. Spencer thrust deeper, his hips moving in a relentless rhythm that had you gasping for breath.
"Tell me you want me, baby," he growled, his voice harsh with need. "Tell me how much you love my cock inside you."
You couldn't form words, your mind lost in the haze of pleasure and desire. All you could do was cry out and arch your back, begging for more.
"Please, please, please," you moaned, your voice ragged with need. "More, oh please, more."
Spencer's smile was wicked, his eyes dark and full of lust. "Tell me you want me, baby," he demanded, holding your hips tight as he thrust into you.
"I want you, oh, I want you so fucking much!" you cried out, your body writhing beneath him. Your nails dug into the edge of the table, your legs trembling as you pushed back against him, taking him deeper inside you.
His thrusts became harder, faster, each one a razor's edge of pleasure and pain. You could feel his fingers digging into your hips, his breath hot against your skin as he possessed you completely.
"Tell me, slut," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "Tell me you're mine, and that you'll do anything I say."
You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding in your chest as you grappled with the new dynamic unfolding between you. But you knew that you wanted this, needed this, and so you did as he commanded.
"I'm yours, sir," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as you surrendered to the power, he held over you. "I'll do anything you say."
Spencer's eyes widened at your submission, a sense of triumph and desire flooding his entire being. He thrusted deeper into you, his cock aching to be buried inside you even further.
Your moans grew louder, your body shaking with every thrust as he took control of you. The power he wielded over you sent ripples of ecstasy through your entire being, your mind hazy with pleasure.
"That's it, baby, let me hear you," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "Tell me how much you love taking my cock, how much you love feeling me inside you."
You couldn't form words, your breaths coming out in short, sharp gasps. Your fingernails left marks on the edge of the table, your body writhing under his assault.
"Mmm, that's it, tell me baby," he urged, his hips moving in a relay and powerful stroke. "Tell me how much you love my cock inside you, how much you need it."
You could only whimper in response, your body trembling with each thrust. Your moans filled the room, and your entire body was on fire with pleasure and desire.
"Say it, baby," he demanded, his voice growing rough with need. "Say you love my cock inside you."
"I-I love your cock inside me," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I need you, please don't stop."
Spencer's eyes darkened at your plea, his grip on your hips tightening as he thrust into you harder. Your moans filled the room, your body arching and begging for more. You could feel the tension building, the wave of pleasure and desire crashing over you.
"That's it, baby," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "Come for me, let go of all that pleasure and surrender to me completely."
Your body shuddered, your moans growing louder as the orgasm overwhelmed you. Your pussy clenched around his cock, the sensation sending shivers of pleasure through Spencer's entire being.
He continued to thrust, his cock sliding in and out of you in a relentless rhythm. Your moans grew louder, your body trembling with each movement.
You could tell Spencer wasn’t far off from his own release, the muscles in his abdomen tightening with every thrust.
The feeling of him inside you was indescribable, the intensity of your orgasm mixing with the pleasure of him taking you so roughly. You could feel him hardening even more, his cock pulsating with need as he fucked you deeper and faster.
"I'm gonna cum, baby," he growled, his eyes locked on yours. "I'm going to fill you up with my cum."
Your mind was a blur of thoughts and emotions, pleasure, and lust mingling with the desire to please him. You wanted him to take you, to possess you completely.
"Yes, sir, fill me up," you whispered, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want to feel you cum inside me."
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#spencer reid smut#criminal minds smut#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x reader#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid criminal minds#bau team#doctor spencer reid#spencer reid one shot#criminal minds fandom#criminal minds x you#dr spencer reid x reader#dom spencer reid#mgg
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the master is so obsessed with yaz whys he like this. from spyfall to potd hes so fixated on her. doesnt feel like a jealousy thing tho i dont think hes trying to make the doctor jealous or maybe thats what he was trying the first time but i think he just,,,,,,,,,,wants,,,,,,her attention too. bc shes doctory like that or bc he recognises himself in her. bc he recognises himself i think. yaz would get it. he thinks. and i even think she would. if he hadnt done all the.......murder
#works perfectly with my au where yaz and 13 travel with missy for a while bc#if thats true. then. he Remembers her#he remembers yaz and loves her#and yaz doesnt know him#well not in s12 at least. potd doesnt really work with the timeline#or would still. he'd still be obsessed with her she'd just know..........she'd Know#it makes the whole thing extra tense#gives yaz an experience with him similar to the doctor's#as in 'i know you and ive loved you and i dont know how to make that make sense with.......this'#i should reread that fic#maybe translate it to french
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H I S M A R K : H E E D A M
WARNINGS: FLUFF, SMUT (UNPROTECTED), ORAL (MALE REC.), REFERENCE TO NONCON SMUT, MENTIONS OF FORCED BREEDING, SEX SLAVERY (HISTORICAL), DUBCON, MYTHOLOGY, ANCIENT HISTORY, SYMBOLISM, MARKINGS, YANDERE LOVE, OBSESSION, POSSESSIVE, FANTASY, MENTIONS OF KIDNAPPING, PARANOIA, STOCKHOLM SYNDROME, FORCED LOVE, ISOLATION, AND CURSING. NOT PROOREAD (YET).
THIS TAKES PLACE SHORTLY AFTER ‘CHILD OF THE SEA’ DRABBLE. ALL PART IF THE MERMAIDS TALE SERIES ON MASTERLIST.
This Drabble had me feeling something that is surreal I swear. Probably my favorite Drabble yet.
THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL. THIS IS NOT REAL.
For days, weeks, and months, you’ve questioned your sanity. It was the same routine; waking up in an unknown territory, wondering if you’ll ever get to experience freedom again. You’ve tried to calm yourself, but a factor prohibits you from gaining rest. It has been so long since you were able to roam the streets on your own, to visit the bakery that you loved so much, and to sip coffee while viewing the window of your high-rise apartment. It wasn’t that you couldn’t do the things you enjoyed in life, you just had to enjoy it…with him.
Over a year, this man had broken you down, restricted you of using your own senses, and prohibited in exercising your own way of thinking. No. Everything was about him. He made it that way to reflect his own spirit, since for him, everything was about you. You were all he sees, eats, hear, and breathes. It caused his insanity in which formed that insatiable love for you. He wanted you to rely on him, to think of only him, and to love him the way he does you. It’s…sickening. The worst part…was that you were actually starting to succumb to your weak heart.
The other day he made a great effort to impregnate you…the image plagues your mind, no matter what you’re looking at. You’ve tried to erase it completely, yet the view of his exposed throat, his thick neck in full display as he shoves and rests his length deep inside your womb, pumping out each string of release. His hands gripped your hips, slowly sliding up to your waist while he rests in between your legs, and his head remained flung back. His poignant Adams Apple bobs up and down delicately as he restlessly murmurs…’Uh-Uh-huh.”
He tells you that you should be grateful. For the rumors of his ancestors and their harsh breeding methods with Sirens were merely just to produce sons. At least with him, he did it out of love and passion. He tells you of how the sirens would eventually weakened to the desires of an Adams touch, and eventually grew to love their captors…which he predicted would become the end result for you.
‘It’s only a matter of time’ he says.
If only what he said wouldn’t hold any truth, yet as each passing day rotates in and out, you’re slowly coming to realize that he spoke the truth. It may not be out of your own willingness to return that love, but he didn’t care. All that mattered to him was the end goal, despite it being a result of Stockholm Syndrome. Regardless of his abusive method in claiming you, that love he displayed…it was getting to you.
‘It’s only a matter of time, baby. You will love me…you will, Siren.’
Sirens…a creature only read in mythology books, or poems and mentioning’s by philosophers. Who could ever believe that there was more truth to their existence?
A Siren cannot feel the physical touch, sensation, or feeling of anything. Not even pain at a high scale. Should anyone cut off your limb, or carve out an eye, you wouldn’t feel it. You wouldn’t scream. You wouldn’t even shed a single tear. No matter how many injuries your body would display, you’ll never feel the blister of the injury….unless it was done by an Adam.
The only person that can make you feel things. He knew that…he knew that too well. From the moment he sensed your expression and witnessed it at the party, he knew that something was amiss. He could feel it.
The Clan of Adam is what they are called, singularly referred to as ‘Adam’s’ named after the first man. The bloodline stemmed from the sons sired by Alexander the Great, that much you both knew. At least up until the moment he found the memento remnants of his late grandfather…who met a tortuous end by his grandsons hand.
“Huh…look what I found baby.” He holds the large book in both hands. It was ancient, laced by a gold chained binding, with thin wooden slats, polished to perfection with the inscription carved in the finest font. Elegant and edged with Hellenic images, charts, and astronomical symbols, you could tell that the contents contained knowledge that was unreal…stuff people read out of a fairy tale.
He pulls you back by tenderly holding your waist, sitting you on his lap as he sets the book before you. Resting it on your thighs, he passionately roams his palms up and down your ribcage, taking deep inhales as he whiffs in your scent, burying his nose at the back of your neck. “Mmm, fuck I love you.”
Your eyes begin to form tears…again. Yet each time you calmly sobbed, they became less and less watery. The feeling of touch, while initially had disgusted you, has now become the very thing you embraced. It was something you craved…and only he could give it to you.
“Read it baby.” He sighs out as he takes in another whiff. His hands lower their grip to your hips; his thumbs pressing in right above your derrière, beside your tailbone.
You arch your back as you winced your eyes. Your mind kept telling you to be strong and resist…but your heart told you the opposite. He pulls you in, smoothing your rear to grind and settle right on his bulge. “You’re sooooooo perfect…perfect for me.” He drags a deep tone as he flings his head back, lightly bucking his hips upwards. The sensation formed a familiar knot, a tightness that expanded until it snaps, releasing the flow of intense orgasm and pleasure. “P-please…please don’t—“
You gently spoke your words, moaning them out as you plead. You wanted it and didn’t want it. He reached up and around, turning your head to the side to face him, eloping you in a beautifully tender kiss. He grinds, and you move. He bucks, and you press in. Your bodies became a perfectly tuned rhythm of pleasure…and love.
“H-Heeseung…” you moan in between the small pecks. He lightly groans into your mouth, admitting a long and harsh lick up from your bottom lip to the top. “Aw fuck…yeah baby? You like that?” He doesn’t give you room to answer before re-sealing your mouth into a rather messier kiss. The twisting and twirling of tongue and the stroking of canines has completely melted you, and he could feel it on his crotch.
His hands migrate up and around, unionizing on your tummy. They slowly mesh downward and apply pressure as they rub on the flat canvas above your clit. It didn’t take long for him to find his way under your dress, his hands were so gifted in knowing the in and outs of feminine-styled seams. He hooks your panties and shove them to the side, and God..the way he could move his hands alone was enough to get you heated and moist. So wet.
Not once did he release your mouth. The flaring of your nostrils indicates the struggle for breath, yet the latching proved that it was all worth the struggle. Your lips quiver as your thighs shake; his fingers gently rubbing small circles right at the tip, surfacing a toil of piercing desire that raged within you like the fires of Hell. You moan some more in his mouth, hating how you were loving the way he explored inside you. That damn tongue of his…he was so experienced, being a former playboy, but now a committed husband who only had eyes, a heart, and soul, just for you.
“Oh Heeseung…mmmm! Oh please-“
“Fuck yeah baby. Never felt someone as good as you.”
His heart pelted against his chest, you could feel it underneath in between your shoulder blades as yours felt as if it would explode from within. He played around with your womanhood until he firmly gripped your waist, thumbs pressing against your back as his fingers dig into your torso. He lifts you just a tad, before slamming you down against his clothed groin. He continues to buck up while bouncing you in a momentum that was out of this world. You gasped out a series of yelps, all in sync with his motions. “Pl-please!!! Please..!”
“Please what? WHAT?” He whispers as he buries his nose and lips into your ear. “Fucking tell me what you want. Let me hear it.”
You reach up and gently palm the back of his neck, struggling to move smoothly as the quaking aches of pleasure and desire took over your body. “Ugh…please…please give it to me…”
You can’t believe you just said that…
He smirks. “Oh yeah baby…don’t worry, I’m going to.” He reaches beneath you to unzip his trousers when a sudden knock causes you both to pause.
His growl told you of anger and frustration as he bites down and grits a groan. His hands emerge up and grip your waist, slightly shifting you forward.
You whine out, begging for him to keep going. You cup his chin as you continued to melt against his chest, grabbing onto his free hand and resting it on your pelvis. “Please…please…Heeseung.”
What he wouldn’t give to satisfy you right now. Times like this, he truly sympathizes for you, and wanted nothing more than to give you everything you asked for. He gently takes your hand in his, causing you ti release his chin as he places a kiss on your forehead. “Shhh…I know baby. I know.”
He would have dismissed the person outside the door, instead, he mentally kicks himself in the ass. He was the one who summoned the curator to help translate the book after all.
“Hello, Mr. Lee. My name is Johnathan, I am the curator from the national library, we spoke on the phone. You stated you needed some assistance in translating some family artifacts?”
The young man was polite and well mannered, not at all losing composure, even after seeing you sitting on your husband’s lap, legs widespread. At least Heeseung reinstated the hem of your dress, layering it over the exposed parts. Maybe Johnathan was not at all familiar with the image of sexual desire, but it would otherwise seem quite obvious.
“I am sorry I’m late.” He states as he sets his briefcase on his lap, flipping the gold latches up.
“Not as sorry as I am right now…” Heeseung mutters against your ear, wincing as you admitted small and subtle waving motions at the hip, grinding against his groin. The pulse of desire hasn’t worn off inside you.
“What was that Sir?” Johnathan peeks up with a look of curiosity.
“N-nothing. What can you tell us about this?” Heeseung firmly wraps an arm around your waist as he leans forward, taking the book from your hand and passing it over. You whined as your body shifts forward from the leaned in motion. “Don’t worry…i’m never going to let you fall baby.” He whispers into your ear after taking notice of your hands gripping his thigh, halting the sliding of your rear on his lap. Meanwhile the curator remained completely oblivious as he closely admires the book. “Ah, the literature contains the ancient tongue that the Greeks used early on. It is most notably communicated by philosophers. Perhaps a well known philosopher drafted this.”
Johnathan examines each lettering and symbol, placing a magnifying device to study the engravings.
“Clan of Adam…interesting, I haven’t heard of them. Has your grandfather ever mentioned this clan to you before?” He speaks without lifting his head, keeping his eyes glued to the wooden frame.
“Maybe a couple times in reference to this heirloom.” Heeseung calmly fibs. If there was one thing you both agreed on, it was to keep your ancestries, and the knowledge of, a secret. Excluding the current lesson that was now being taught of course.
“Interesting. It says here that the clan were all male descendants of the first sons…sons of—“
“Alexander.” Heeseung calmly finishes as he pinches his grip, tightening his hold on your waist the moment he spoke out the name.
“Yes that’s correct. Alexander the Great, king of Macedonia.”
The curator continues to look over the slats, rotating the book as he studied the diagram of constellations and Greek symbols. “It says that the first sons of Alexander were hidden away in a monastery, many miles away from their kingdom. They were known as the first of the clan…says here they displayed inhuman abilities.”
Johnathan chuckles. “I see, this seems to be a book that contains speculation of fiction and fantasy. It talks about them battling mermaids—ah, sirens, as they are commonly referred in this book.”
Heeseung’s member twitches at the historical mentioning of your ancestors. You felt the snake-like feature of his size slithering and flickering under your thigh, causing you to gasp.
“This particular page goes into detail about the clans genealogy traits…saying that it derived from their grandfather.”
“Grandfather?” Heeseung raises a brow as he keeps his eye on the curator, yet shifts his mouth to place a kiss against your cheek upon hearing a small whine escape your lips.
“Yes sir…it says here that the late King of Macedonia and his wife, Olympias, was bedded by Zeus. This was recorded in private to a monk residing in the kingdom, and journaled after the king passed. Alexander took over the throne and was exposed to the secret of his origin, by his mother.”
The curator chuckles in disbelief. “Well that would explain why the clan could take down mermaids.” He laughs as he jests, little does he know that everything he had just relayed was whole-heartedly true.
Your eyes widen as he unveiled the truth behind the clans whereabouts. Descendants of Zeus? No wonder they held such tremendous power and combative abilities. They were commonly known as Spartans of the Sea.
Heeseung, being a former SWAT captain, eluded those traits. You’ve witnessed his training sessions he maintained simply for fun. The way he moved, the way he maneuvered in water, and his stamina…it was Godly.
Zeus…Zeus was the true father of Alexander…
“And the sirens were all daughters of —“
“Poseidon…” you calmly interject. Heeseung faintly smirks as he admires your side profile. “Yes ma’am, that’s correct. Have you both read this book?” The curator asks earnestly, subtly surprised by your perfect translation and knowledge of what was inscribed in the book.
“We looked it over prior to your arrival.” Heeseung states.
“Wow…so you both can read Ancient Greek?”
You both stayed silent as Johnathan’s innocent smile slowly fades. A moment of awkwardness fills the room. “Well…anyhow…there was a war between humanity and the sirens, and the godly descendants produced by Zeus engaged, becoming a formidable opponent to the sirens. In fact, it says here that the clan nearly wiped out the entire ocean of them, causing them to go nearly extinct.”
Heeseung taps against your thigh, vaguely whispering for you to stand just for a moment as he thanks the curator for his time.
“I’m sorry to tell you this book hardly exposes factual knowledge regarding your family, however, you’ll be pleased to know that it is a genuine artifact that is priceless. Should you ever care to get an appraisal, please do not hesitate to call us.”
“Without hesitation. Thanks.” Heeseung places the book to the side as he sees the young man out.
You sat by the window.
Descendants of Zeus…and Poseidon…you, and Heeseung.
He cups your cheek, gently forcing you to face him. “That pretty head of yours thinking about the history lesson we just got?” He smirks as he kneels down before you, reaching up as he strokes your hair. “All that talk about Gods and our lineage got me thinking baby…”
You gave an inquiring expression. “About what?” You calmly issue as he pulls you in for a kiss, never divulging an answer. “You’ll see.”
…………….
“Welcome to Brewery’s Coffee, what can I get for you?”
“Tall chocolate cream latte, and a venti Americano.”
“Is that all?”
“Yes.”
“What’s the name for the order?”
“Heeseung.”
The barista labels the cups. Handing the receipt, she admires the devastatingly handsome stranger as he walks to a table. Something catches her eye as she ogles his neckline. A small mark, looked to be of a tattoo, printed nicely and centered on the back of his neck. It was symbolic in nature, though she had absolutely no idea of what it entailed. “Do you see that?” She whispers to a fellow co-worker. They both admire the mark, when the latter recognized the main structure of the symbol.
“Oh! That’s the symbol for Pisces. The symbol represents commitment, and togetherness for eternity. I’m a Pisces myself, but I don’t know what that small symbol to the right of it is supposed to be.”
Heeseung takes a seat across from you, admiring how you sat patiently while he ordered the drinks. Not like you didn’t really have a choice, although now it seems he did manage to tame the shrew. You found yourself accepting the concept of belonging to him, especially after reading the history of his lineage.
Taking your hand in his, he rubs the back of your palm with his thumb. “You didn’t feel a thing, did you?”
You shook your head. “Me neither.”
Of course he wouldn’t. He’s too damn strong, some needle punctures would hardly faze him. You reach up and delicately smooth the tips over the back of your neck, yet couldn’t even feel your own phalanges as you attempted to search for it. He chuckles before reaching across the table. “Here.”
He takes your fingers and places it on a certain spot behind your neck. “Right there baby.”
You still couldn’t feel anything, other than the brush of his knuckles as he guides you to the matching mark. The sign of Pisces, with the respective symbols of the Gods that fathered both your ancestries. His, with Zeus, and yours with Poseidon.
Combined and side by side, it would form the Union of love…the love that he inherited for you…the love that you were forced to adapt to.
It was entirely his idea, of course. You recalled how he vividly told you of the theory in Zeus transforming Aphrodite and Eros into fish, paired together so that they may escape from the clutches of Typhon, the monstrous being. You laid on your stomach as the artist took his time to delicately outline the unique features of the custom symbolic nature of love and commitment.
After coffee, he brings you back home where he had every sense of focus to finish what was started earlier.
“Come here.” He gently calls to you as he flips two fingers up and flickers them, signaling for you to respond to his calling. His voice was tamed and gentle. So very calm and sensual.
You kneel before him as he took his seat, holding onto your hand. You lean forward in between his manspreading legs, guided by the subtle grip of your chin. He lures you directly to his bulge. “My woman…my life…my everything.”
You knew what he wanted, and you would never admit it aloud, but you wanted it too. The pains of yearning never left, it remained lodged deep inside your womb even after the curator left.
You unzip his trousers. It didn’t take long for him to whip out his cock, waving it in front of your face as if he was teasing you with it. Like quenching thirst, you caught the very tip of it with your parted lips, immediately swallowing as many inches as possible—and there were many. The man was gifted, such was expected as the descendant of a mighty God.
He groans out, holding the base of his shaft for you, while encouraging you to keep going. He collects your strands, and grips it in unison. Holding up your poneytail, there, in full view was the beautiful tattoo…his other half. Resting in the same spot as his, it nearly glows. He watches and maintains sight of it as you continue to bob for his girth.
“Thatta girl…keep going darling…get it while you can, I’m about to conquer you.”
You swipe your head up and down, motioning it with a sensual passion that could only be found in a love like this. One that was filled with so many contradictions, yet hold so much history. And with that history, came progression and transcendence. It was both frustrating and peaceful. Forceful, and yet consensual. It was…it was…
“Fuck! Get over here.”
“H-Heeseung!” You gasped outright as he used his god-like strength and lifts you up. He stands tall and straight, leaving you suspended in air against his chest as he grips your thighs, forcing you to straddle his groin. You hug his neck, embracing it against your breasts as you remain higher up while he cradles your rear, stabilizing his hold. Slowly…slowly, the moment you breached for all day, he finally inserts his stiffed muscle in between your slit. “Oh my God..!” You breathe out as he breaks you, inch by inch. The feeling was so different from the other day. This was different. The painful yearning that pounded your womb from within, sending tingles up your spine, and released a rushing flow of blood through your veins. All you could think about was being touched, being fucked, and being kissed over and over again, and he was the only one who could give it. The key to your release.
“Ah! P-please! Oh god please don’t stop!”
The very second he sat you against the hilt of his pelvic floor, he began thrusting at a phenomenal pace. God, was he perfect. He was so good, you just couldn’t contain yourself as it slipped…
“B-babe! Baby please!”
He pauses for just a second as he smirks against your neck. Did he just hear you call him ‘baby’?
He continues to grin as he slowly pumps up into you.
Realizing just what you had done, you found it useless to make excuses or to continue to fight it. Finally, after all that he’s done to trap and torment you mentally, he finally had you…all of you. You wave the white flag and surrendered. If it wasn’t in the endearing pet name that you sputtered out, it was in the tightening of your embrace as you pulled him close, thighs shaking and your derrière jiggling from the quivering jolts of pleasure…so good, it hurt like Hell.
“Say it again.” He snarls against your skin as he licks the underside of your chin. You shook your head, wincing your eyes as you refused initially, but he had his ways to make you give in.
One, two, three…no, four. Five! God…maybe it was twenty times, or more, he held you firmly and smacks his cock inside. It was brutally pleasing as he thrusts upwards, splattering the juices of his labor—and yours, everywhere. The offensive sound of his cock squeezing, squelching, and sliding in and out as his balls smack against your skin while he went in fast and hard, causing you to scream. Your mind blows away as you absorb his rhythm. “Ah! Fuck! Baby!”
There, he got what he wanted, and did he ever love it. He could hear you call him that, over and over again. And he did.
The undercarriage of your buttocks were painted with white, thick splatters of creamy and sticky fluids. The constant and solid tempo of his thrusts acted as a beater, stirring the semi-clear residue and turning it into a thicker consistency. A product of the love you both shared.
You scream out his name, gasping for air as the soft spot inside you releases, all thanks to the constant punching of his tip, and the pounding of his thick and lengthy cock. You dig your nails into his shoulders, the overstimulation makes you beg for him to tone it down but he doesn’t.
“TAKE IT!!!” He yells out against your skin as he holds and squeezes your cheeks together, creating a bubbling image of skin and muscle as your derrière becomes abused by the harsh grip.
Shooting everything he’s got inside, he holds you steady, burying deep. Pelvis to pelvis, hilt to hilt, you feel the pressure of his grip holding you down against his groin. A few minutes of his cock pulsating, pumping, and pushing, he finally loosens his grip. You slide down, legs still grasping his waist as he embraces your waistline, tumbling back. Bringing you down with him, he lays next to you on the silky bedding.
You both lay, admiring each others glistening skin. The beads of sweat dripping down your foreheads, the heat exhausting from your breaths, and the panting and heaving of your chests.
He pushes the wet strands away from your brow, leaning in and kissing you so passionately, he would have done his deity ancestor proud.
“…I love you.” You mutter out, nearly shamelessly and defeatedly.
He smirks as he gulps down a subtle swallow, already knowing, just waiting for you to say it. “I know.”
You couldn’t bring yourself to make eye contact, instead, you look away as he caresses your cheek, not minding the shyness you were displaying. “I could never be anything in life without you…daughter of the seven seas…you got me all to yourself. I live only for you.”
And with that, concluded this night, but birthed many more. This was only the beginning, what new life exists for you both? Now that you have each other…
And so the war between the Adams and Sirens came to an end, resulting in generations that mirrored the forbidden love between the two descendants. Mixing the bloodlines of Poseidon and Zeus, the clan formatted the ultimate beings, part God and part mortal. Despite the many rumors of the hostility the two parties initially held against each other, let it be known that no matter the history…no matter the bloodshed…by the prime example of sea maidens and sons of Alexander the Great, love conquers all.
@hoonieshoney and @sweeheehees 😏 they not cry or explode. Because I certainly almost did both when imagining heedam….BRO JUST TOPPED THE LIST.
#heeseung x reader#heeseung scenarios#heeseung smut#enha x reader#heeseung hard hours#heeseung hard thoughts#heeseung fanfic#enhypen hard hours#enhypen smut#enha heeseung#yandere heeseung imagines#heeseung yandere#yandere enha#yandere enhypen#heeseung imagines#heeseung scenario#Heeseung fantasy#enhypen fantasy#fantasy fics#dark fantasy#yandere imagines#yandere fantasy#Spotify
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Midnight Fiction
Pairing: Wooyoung x fem!reader
AU: non-idol au
Word Count: 10.4k
Summary: One restless night, craving an escape from reality, you and Wooyoung lose yourselves to the captivating realms of your favourite fantasy worlds. Together, you traverse through the wonder of Narnia, the magic of Middle-earth, and the enchantment of Hogwarts.
A/N: Just a random little self-indulgent oneshot inspired by ILLIT's Midnight Fiction, song's been on repeat for me. These images have been flashing through my mind whenever I listen to it, so I'm taking this chance to experiment with writing The Chronicles of Narnia, Lord of the Rings, and Harry Potter AUs.
ATEEZ Masterlist
Don't you just hate it when you're caught in that limbo of feeling too cold without a blanket and too hot with one? Don't you just hate it when you lie in bed for what feels like an eternity, teetering on the edge of slumber, only to snap awake again? Don't you just hate when your room begins to feel stifling from restlessness, leaving you searching for that elusive perfect spot on your bed?
Don't you just hate it when it feels like the whole world is asleep while you're wide awake? You do, don't you?
Fortunately for you, tonight, you weren't alone in this plight. The person lying beside you, your best friend, your soulmate, your better half—your everything—seemed to be stuck in the same predicament.
"Trouble sleeping, love?"
In an instant, the weight lifted as you turned to gaze at the love of your life, awake beside you. "Yes, Woo, but at least I'm not alone," you whispered, smiling. He smiled back, extending an arm towards you in invitation. You pouted, your heart brimming with affection for this man, and immediately shifted into his welcoming embrace, resting your head in the crook of his neck.
He sighed contentedly, tightening his hold around you, and peppering your face with tender kisses. "Perhaps sleep isn't on the agenda tonight. What do you say we find another way to pass the time?" His playful grin met your curious gaze.
You chuckled softly. "And what mischief do you have in store, my dearest Mr. Jung?"
With a playful boop to your nose, he grinned. "Would you care to embark on an adventure with me, my lady? Somewhere far from this suffocating room, perhaps?"
Bursting into a fit of giggles at his playful imitation of old-fashioned speech, you leaned in to plant a soft kiss on his lips. Pulling back, you played along, "Oh, you present such an irresistible offer. How could I possibly refuse, my lord?"
He bit his lip, feeling his heart melt at how swiftly you caught on. Wooyoung had always been an exuberant individual, often overwhelming others with his energy and antics, but never with you. You were the sole person in the world who truly understood him. You shared the same interests and personalities, the only disparity being that you were a slightly calmer version of him.
If soulmates existed, he was certain you were at the other end of the red strings of fate binding him to you. You had to be.
Pressing his lips to yours once more, relishing the closeness, he pulled back slightly to catch his breath. "Well, come on then, love. Let's not waste any time. Adventure awaits us."
You squealed in delight as he leapt out of bed, swiftly yanking the sheets off you and exposing you to the cool air. With a playful tug on your leg, he pulled you into his arms as you steadied yourself against his chest, adjusting to the sudden movement after hours of lying still.
"I hope you're ready, my lady."
"You bet your ass I am, sire. Let's do this!"
"Seriously, Woo? This is the adventure you were referring to? A place far from our suffocating bedroom?" you asked incredulously as he swung open the doors to his absurdly large wardrobe in the spare room of your shared apartment. It was where your boyfriend housed his prized collection of branded apparel, insisting on keeping them separate from his everyday wear.
He flashed you a cheeky grin, flicking on the torchlight he'd brought with him and shining it upwards towards his face in the classic fashion of someone about to tell ghost stories. "Oh, come on, this could be fun. It'll be like seven minutes in heaven."
You snorted at his suggestion, watching as he crawled into the space, carefully shifting aside his hanging clothes. Crossing your arms teasingly, you quipped, "With a whole apartment at our disposal, why do we need to squeeze into a tiny space for some fun?"
Once settled inside, he extended a hand to you. "Don't pretend you're not thrilled about this. I see right through you. Come on, love," he urged, and your façade melted away like chocolate. With a grin as childlike as his, you slipped your hand into his and allowed him to draw you into the cramped space.
Amidst endless giggles, you squeezed your way in beside him. When he finally managed to shut the doors, you turned to him eagerly. "Okay, so what now?"
"Now, let the magic begin," he whispered, leaning in for a soft kiss. You sighed contentedly, running a hand through his hair as you kissed him back. But before the romantic moment could fully unfold, true to his nature, Wooyoung reached around your waist and began to tickle you. You shrieked, pulling away to playfully slap him. "S-stop it, you menace! I sh-should've known!"
As you tried to push him away from you, you found yourself instinctively scooting back. But instead of feeling the familiar barrier of the wardrobe's end, you noticed an unusual expanse of space behind you. "W-wait, Woo! S-something's not right—" Before you could finish your sentence, a loud gasp escaped you as you felt a cold touch on your back.
What in the world.
Finally, your boyfriend ceased his actions, freezing in his spot with wide eyes. Following his gaze, you turned your head and felt your breath hitch at the unbelievable sight of a winter wonderland before your eyes.
Swiftly, he rolled off you and helped you up to your feet, clad in bedroom slippers, both of you taking tentative steps into the snow. Your gazes met in wide-eyed astonishment as the chill of this new world immediately embraced you. "Woo, could we be in...?" you began, while he hurriedly threw on an expensive coat before draping another snugly over your shoulders.
Ensuring you were sufficiently warm, he reached for your hand and led you forward. "Only one way to find out."
Your hearts raced as you ventured deeper into the breathtaking snow-covered forest. Glancing back, you felt relief upon seeing the back of Wooyoung's wardrobe still there. As he squeezed your hand, you followed his gaze, and your face lit up with recognition as you approached the lamppost before you.
Locking eyes with each other, you whispered in unison, "Narnia."
Squealing with excitement, the two of you began to jump around. Your boyfriend started rambling, "Oh my god, do you think we'll get to meet Mr. Tumnus? Or maybe Mr. and Mrs. Beaver?"
You laughed and shook your head. "I don't know, but I really hope I get to see King Edmund, at least... or even Prince Caspian, if we're that far in the story already."
He scoffed. "Of course, you'd want to."
You playfully smacked his arm. "Hey! Don't pretend you're not also dying to meet the gorgeous High Queen Susan!"
Feeling a presence, you both turned to find a very unexpected character greeting you upon arrival. Standing before you in all his glory was Aslan, The Great Lion, the creator and one true king of the world of Narnia. Your boyfriend stilled, then pulled you down onto your knees beside him. "It's an honour to meet you, sir. I'm Wooyoung, son of Adam," he said, introducing himself, before introducing you as a daughter of Eve.
Aslan nodded in acknowledgement. "Welcome to Narnia; we have been expecting you," he began, catching you off guard.
"You have...?" you asked in disbelief.
The lion confirmed, "Yes, you are both here to fulfil the Golden Age prophecy."
Wooyoung sputtered, "W-we are...? Isn't the prophecy about two boys and two girls, with your help, ending the evil witch's rule?"
Aslan clarified, "That is correct, but you've left out one final thing; it includes two seers who can tell the future. With your help, we will defeat Jadis without a problem."
At that, you and your boyfriend exchanged a knowing smile. Of course, you were both the seers; you already knew how the story goes. Armed with this knowledge, you were equipped to guide them through their quest to defeat the White Witch even more seamlessly than before.
With a graceful motion, the lion lowered himself to the ground. "Now, if you'll both get on my back, we'll head back to the camp where everyone is preparing for battle." Excitement surged through you both, and without hesitation, you climbed aboard. As the journey commenced, you marvelled at the breathtaking scenery around you. With each passing moment, you noticed the snow melting away, a clear sign of Jadis' spell fading and the return of goodness, heralding Aslan's triumphant return.
As you and your boyfriend rode on the lion's back, a whirlwind of emotions swept over you both. It was surreal to realise that you were actually in the magical land you had both fantasised about since childhood. The realisation dawned on you that this wasn't just a dream—it was happening, right now.
Feelings of excitement, wonder, and disbelief mingled within you, threatening to overwhelm your senses. But typical Wooyoung being Wooyoung, he couldn't resist his mischievous nature. Sitting behind you, he tightened his hold on your waist and whispered in your ear, "How do you think he'd react if we told him he's fictional?" Your jaws dropped, and you shot him a glare, elbowing him in the gut and causing him to groan. "Now, why would you do that?"
But it didn't take long before you both burst into giggles. Despite his knack for mischief, you couldn't help but be grateful for his presence. You couldn't envision exploring the magical world of Narnia with anyone else but Jung Wooyoung by your side.
As you reached the camp, embarrassment flooded you as all the creatures—centaurs, fauns, and more—stared at you and Wooyoung in your mismatched attire. You couldn't help but feel awkward in your pyjamas paired with your boyfriend's branded coat and bedroom slippers. Before you could dwell on it, everyone began kneeling in greeting as you passed by.
"Welcome, seers of Narnia," greeted the voices in unison as you arrived at the main tent where the four Pevensie siblings stood waiting, your hearts pounded with excitement and nerves. Here you were, finally meeting your childhood crushes. Clumsily, you introduced yourselves before watching the crowd disperse.
Blushing under Peter and Edmund's curious gazes, you were relieved when Susan stepped forward with a chuckle. "Come on, both of you. Let's get you into some proper clothes. We know how it feels; we've been in your shoes on our first day here," she reassured. Wooyoung chuckled in agreement, "Yeah, we know that."
Lucy's eyes widened in awe. "Of course, you're the seers. You must know everything. Tell us, how does it all work?"
Blinking rapidly with pursed lips, you and your boyfriend struggled to find a suitable response. After all, revealing that your knowledge came from books or movies wouldn't be appropriate. Breaking the fourth wall so easily could spoil the adventure and make you both seem uncool. It was best to keep the magic alive, even if it meant inventing some details on the spot.
"Uh, well... it's, uh, complicated," your boyfriend stammered, his mind scrambling for a creative explanation.
Peter cleared his throat, exchanging a glance with his youngest sister. "Not now, Lucy. They must be overwhelmed. We should let them get changed and settle down first."
Nodding in agreement, Edmund gestured to a smaller tent beside Aslan's. "Right this way, please. We've prepared your outfits."
You had to suppress a squeal; the brothers were even more attractive in person. Though this version of King Edmund was still a child and not the king you admired in the later movies, it was still him, and you couldn't help feeling bashful. As if to remind you of who you truly belonged to, Wooyoung slid his arm around your waist. "Come on, love. Let's get changed." It was then that all four siblings realised that unlike them, you were lovers.
Emerging from the tent with Susan and Lucy's help, you felt slightly awkward in the medieval-styled gown, uncertain how to manage its intricate design. Meanwhile, your boyfriend had finished much sooner, dressed in a simple outfit of pants and a tunic. His lively voice echoed from inside the tent as you dressed, likely engaging poor Peter and Edmund with his talkative nature.
As you stepped out, his voice trailed off as he took in the sight of you in the purple gown with your hair braided halfway and the rest left down. Though not extravagant, you knew he found it beautiful; his stunned expression told you that much.
Susan giggled at his reaction, while you blushed slightly. "Shall we have something to eat, and break the ice before we begin our training?" she suggested.
You raised a brow. "Training?"
Peter nodded. "Yes, preparations for the battle against the White Witch's army. I know you're both here as our seers, but it's wise to be ready to defend yourselves too."
Wooyoung nodded in understanding. "Right, well, we'll accept the food then. We'll need our strength for training."
Gathered around a small table on the field, you shared a simple meal, just enough to provide energy for training. Keeping a straight face was a challenge as your boyfriend animatedly spun a tale for the Pevensie siblings about how you both received visions of the future.
"Yeah, it's not something we control. Sometimes it comes in dreams, other times as random visions. It's tricky... a gift and a curse, really," he elaborated.
Struggling to suppress your amusement, you watched as the siblings listened in awe. Concealing your laughter behind a cough, you nudged Wooyoung in the side, giving him a glare and mouthing, "Enough!"
The mood turned serious as Lucy nervously inquired, "Have you seen how this will all end? Will we triumph over the evil witch?" You were aware of the obstacles lying ahead, including Aslan's sacrifice to save Edmund for his earlier betrayal, and the battle feeling like a lost cause. Despite these daunting prospects, you knew you had to offer reassurance to keep their spirits up.
Taking this as your cue to speak, you smiled and nodded at the youngest Pevensie sibling. "Yes, little one. You—no, we—will emerge victorious. The path to victory may be fraught with challenges, but we'll be here to help you every step of the way."
After the meal, the guys geared up to train their sword skills, while the girls prepared for archery practice. Just before joining the guys, Wooyoung pulled you close.
"Have I told you how much I adore the way you talk to children, love?" he whispered.
You rolled your eyes, a smile playing on your lips. "Now's not the time for this, Woo; they're waiting for us."
He grinned at the pink blush on your cheeks. "Fine, I'll go if you want me to so badly. By the way, you look beautiful," he whispered, planting a kiss on your cheek before darting off to join Peter and Edmund.
Turning around, you noticed Susan and Lucy snickering after witnessing the exchange, and you couldn't help but bite your lip bashfully. "Come. Off to training, we go."
After hours of practice, you discovered a potential talent in archery. Susan raised an impressed brow. "Huh, you seem quite skilled at this. We were worried for nothing; you'll do just fine on the battlefield."
You beamed. "I sure hope so."
As the girls continued their drills, your gaze kept drifting to the guys training across the river. Despite the presence of the handsome High King Peter and King Edmund, your attention remained fixed on your silly boyfriend who was earnestly attempting to wield his sword. He looked comical, but that was part of his charm.
"You're in love," Lucy's voice snapped you out of your reverie. Flustered, you nodded. "Why yes, little one. I am in love."
Susan smiled, joining the conversation. "So is he. You two look perfect together. Say, how did you meet?"
Your mind flashed back to your first encounter with Wooyoung. He had been at the next table when you were stood up by a blind date, rambling away loudly with a friend. Annoyed, you turned to him, asking, "Will you please lower your voice?! Not everyone is interested in your opinion on love at first sight!" Ironically, that was how he claimed to have fallen in love with you.
Chuckling at the memory, you decided not to share the full story with the girls. Given the temporal gap between your world and theirs, you reckoned they might not grasp the nuances of your relationship with Wooyoung. Instead, you offered a simplified version of how you met, emphasising the humour in the situation. They laughed with you, and soon the conversation shifted back to practice.
As the story progressed, you and your boyfriend grew closer to the Pevensie siblings, guiding them through every challenge just like rewatching the movie. Together, you avoided certain pitfalls and reassured them that everything would turn out well in the end.
On the night before the decisive battle, you would leave to stay with the girls to witness Aslan's sacrifice for Edmund. Wooyoung held you close, knowing that the next time you saw each other would be on the battlefield the following day. "Be careful, love," he whispered, concern evident in his voice.
You nodded, returning the sentiment. "You too, Woo. You remember how the battle goes, right? Stick by Edmund's side and ensure Jadis doesn't harm him. Or better yet, get him out of that area. Just don't let her get the chance to stab him."
He grinned confidently. "You worry too much. I'll protect your precious King Edmund, don't you worry about a thing."
You scoffed, slapping him lightly. "I have to go now. I'll see you."
He couldn't resist capturing your lips in a loving kiss before letting you go. "Go, the girls need you," he urged softly.
As Susan and Lucy wept on your shoulders after witnessing Aslan's sacrifice, you held them tightly, offering whatever comfort you could. With tears clouding her voice, the younger sibling questioned, "How can things still be okay after this? He's gone... How can we possibly win the war without him?"
Gently stroking her tear-stained cheeks, you reassured her, "Trust me, he knows what he's doing. This will all work out in our favour. Just you wait and see, little one."
Susan regarded you with her typical scepticism. "Are you sure?"
Your nod was firm. "Absolutely."
Quietly, you watched as they clung to the lion after the enemies dispersed to prepare for battle. As dawn approached, you motioned for them to join you. "It's almost time. Come."
With furrowed brows, they approached cautiously. "Time for what...?"
Your smile was knowing as the ground trembled and the Stone Table shattered, leaving behind only a vacant space where Aslan had been. "For this," you declared, pointing to the now-empty surface.
Their eyes widened in disbelief as Aslan reappeared before them, alive and well. You watched with a sense of satisfaction as he explained his strategy, how he had fooled the White Witch.
Eager to reunite with your lover, you interjected, "Well, let's not waste any more time. We still have one final task: freeing our friends still trapped in Jadis' Castle."
Aslan nodded in agreement. "You're right, seer. We must act swiftly."
After rescuing Mr. Tumnus and the others, you hurried to the battlefield. Upon arrival, Aslan let out a loud roar as if to announce his presence. Spotting Peter engaged in a sword fight with the White Witch, you frantically scanned the area for the second youngest Pevensie and Wooyoung.
Time seemed to slow as the lion leapt down to save the high king from Jadis before ultimately defeating her. Alongside the girls, you raced down the hill to join them. Sharing Susan's concerned expression, you asked, "Where's Edmund and my—"
Peter noticed your worry, eyes rounding in realisation as he dashed off in a direction, with the rest of you following. Arriving just in time, you witnessed Ginarrbrik, the witch's manservant, poised to strike what appeared to be Edmund kneeling beside a fallen figure. Susan swiftly shot the dwarf down with an arrow, prompting you to rush forward.
To your horror, instead of finding the injured king as in the story, it was Wooyoung lying there, clutching his abdomen. Edmund explained, "I'm sorry. I should've listened to him when he told me to run. He shielded me when the witch attacked."
Turning to the youngest, you urgently requested, "Lucy! The cordial from Father Christmas, please!" She handed it over, and you watched anxiously as Wooyoung swallowed a drop. Slowly, colour returned to his face, and he opened his eyes. "Hey, love."
Tears of relief and anger filled your eyes as you hugged him tightly. "Don't 'hey' me! You scared me half to death, you idiot!"
He chuckled and hugged you back. "I thought you were more worried about him. But I saved him, didn't I?"
You tightened your grip on him. "Yes, but not like this, Jung Wooyoung."
"Must you really leave?" Queen Lucy's voice carried a hint of sadness as you and your boyfriend prepared to depart after the royal coronation. You struggled with how to explain to her that your departure signalled the end of this chapter of the story, though you dared not utter those words outright.
Seeing her crestfallen expression, clearly still reeling from Aslan's departure, made it even harder to say goodbye. You offered her a comforting smile and gently patted her head. "I'm sorry, Lu. But we really must go. Our journey isn't over yet."
"But where will you go?" the child's voice quivered with uncertainty.
Your boyfriend's grin was reassuring. "Ah, that's our secret. But rest assured, we won't forget you or the adventures we've shared."
After bidding farewell to all the characters from the first instalment of The Chronicles of Narnia, you and Wooyoung returned to the exact spot where you had entered the world. Hand in hand, your steps slowed as you approached the familiar lamppost that had greeted you upon your arrival.
"So, how was that for an adventure?" Wooyoung asked, breaking the silence as he pulled you close to him.
You melted into his embrace, a smile spreading across your face. "It was amazing."
He smirked, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. "Really? But you didn't even get to steal King Edmund's heart."
You couldn't help but burst into laughter. "Oh, stop it, you!"
He chuckled, his tone turning slightly more serious. "I guess it was fun being new characters in a story. But wouldn't it be nice to live the main characters' lives instead?"
You gently pulled away, taking his hand and leading him back towards his wardrobe. "I suppose it would be, Woo. Let's go."
Be careful what you wish for; that adage couldn't have been more accurate. As you ventured through the wardrobe with your boyfriend trailing behind, your eyes widened in astonishment when you emerged into a scene completely unlike your shared apartment. Taking in the surroundings, you recognised the breathtaking interior of Rivendell, or Imladris in Elven-Tongue, a place you had always dreamed of from the Lord of the Rings.
"Woo?" you called out, but he wasn't there.
Instead, you found yourself face to face with a mirror, and you gasped at your reflection. You recognised the Elvish features, reaching up to touch your pointed ears and the long hair cascading below your waist. The elegant gown confirmed your suspicions: you were Arwen Undómiel, the Evenstar. But if you were Arwen, then that would mean your boyfriend was the Ranger of the North.
That fool... he jinxed it.
Unlike in Narnia, you weren't a new character here. Suddenly, you were hit with a surge of sorrow, as if you were experiencing Arwen's emotions firsthand. Her father's disapproval of her love for Aragorn, a mortal, echoed within you, reminding you of the struggles you faced with your own parents. The memories flooded in, replacing those of Arwen and Aragorn with moments between you and Wooyoung, making the situation feel eerily real. It brought back the times when your parents had opposed your relationship, insisting you deserved someone better.
You immediately realised the part of the story you were in. The War of the Ring raged on, and evil spread throughout Middle-earth. Your father, Lord Elrond, had been urging you to depart for the Undying Lands, a place of safety far from the conflict. However, the thought of leaving your lover, who was on a quest to fight evil and protect Frodo, the Ring-bearer, filled you with reluctance.
Just like in the story, you faced the dilemma of choosing between your immortal heritage and your love for a mortal. The parallels between your situation and that of Arwen and Aragorn were striking, and it sent shivers down your spine. You knew how it went in the tale; she eventually gave up her immortality to be with him. It was almost uncanny how similar it was to your reality, where you had fought fiercely to be with Wooyoung despite your parents' objections, which left you currently with a strained relationship with them.
Standing in the familiar area filled you with a sense of dread. This was the moment where Aragorn would soon depart for battle, and where he would tell Arwen to leave for the Undying Lands for her own good. But now, with Wooyoung by your side, you knew things would be different.
Despite the eerie familiarity of the scene, you felt a newfound determination. As if guided by some unseen force, you approached the spot where Aragorn and Arwen would have their fateful conversation. This time, though, you were ready to make a different choice.
As you approached Wooyoung, your heart raced with fear and urgency. "Woo! Why didn't you come to find me? Were you really going to leave like he did?" The dread you felt wasn't just Arwen's; it was yours too. You realised this when he let out a deep breath and met your gaze with a seriousness that sent chills down your spine.
"You know, maybe your parents had a point," he began, his words cutting through the air. "You are their daughter after all, and that will never change. I'm just another guy you're dating, and guys come and go. Perhaps it's not so rational for you to ruin your relationship with your parents just for an outsider like me. Besides, maybe you do deserve someone much better."
Your heart sank as his words washed over you, and you frowned in disbelief. "What the hell are you talking about?! We both know what Elrond said to Aragorn right before this scene. Don't tell me that silly little talk really had you doubting our reality?"
He sighed heavily, his expression pained. "But is he wrong, though? Maybe Arwen was a fool for staying... In the end, Aragorn dies of old age anyway, and she continues to live on in sorrow. What if our reality isn't that far off? Maybe it'll only end in pain?"
His words pierced your heart like a dagger, and for a moment, you were at a loss for words. The weight of his doubts and uncertainties pressed down on you, threatening to suffocate you. But deep down, you knew that despite the risks and the potential for pain, your love for him was worth fighting for.
Gathering yourself, you took a deep breath to steady your thoughts before speaking. "I understand you might be influenced by Aragorn's feelings, just as I am by Arwen's. But deep down, I know you don't truly mean what you're saying. Regardless, we both know how this story unfolds in the end. If you must go, then go. I'll see you soon. Have fun beating up the bad guys, Woo."
A hush fell between you both as he absorbed your words, his tough exterior crumbling. Regret clouded his features as he stepped closer, reaching for your hands. "Wait, you're right. I... I must have been too swept up in Aragorn's emotions. I'm so sorry, love."
You smiled, gently cupping his face. "You said it yourself, how nice it would be to live the lives of the main characters. Look at how it turned out, huh?" you teased, and he flushed with embarrassment. "God, I'm such an idiot."
You smirked. "You always have been."
He grinned. "Well, now that we're the main characters, perhaps we can reshape the story and make it our own. You've always dreamed of being in Rivendell. Let's use this opportunity to explore the place."
You scoffed, though a spark of excitement ignited within you at his suggestion. "But don't you have to leave for battle?"
He rolled his eyes. "Gurl, Sauron and his army of clowns can wait. Now, come on."
Hand intertwined with his, you dashed through the exquisite halls of Elrond's house. Your heart soared as you absorbed the surreal surroundings, the sight of Wooyoung's reassuring presence ahead of you filling you with joy. This was the very scenario you had dreamt of for so long – being in this fantastical place with the one you loved.
Your steps faltered as you reached what seemed to be the area where the Council of Elrond took place, where the Fellowship of the Ring was first formed.
"We're actually here, holy crap," Wooyoung muttered in amazement.
You couldn't help but giggle. "Is that cooler than the fact that you're Aragorn? Speaking of which, I'm so envious of you."
He raised a brow. "For what? You get to hang around here and look so beautiful all the time while I go out and fight evil."
You nodded. "Yeah, but you get to be with Legolas all the time."
He snorted in disbelief. "Unbelievable... I'm never letting you near him. First, King Edmund, and now the blonde elf."
You pouted. "Pfft, it's not like there's ever been anything between Arwen and Legolas. You have nothing to worry about. Plus, you'll have Éowyn falling at your feet later on. Let's hope you still remember me by then."
He sputtered at that. "In case you forgot, she got rejected anyway."
You scoffed. "Yes, but that was Aragorn. The same can't be said for you."
His jaw dropped. "What—hey! You're the only one for me, no matter the universe!" he insisted as you continued walking, grinning in satisfaction for catching him off guard as you moved on to the next location.
"Ah, this is where that iconic scene took place," your boyfriend remarked as you stepped onto the moonlit bridge, reminiscent of the moment when Arwen handed her necklace, the Evenstar, to Aragorn. It symbolises her love and defiance against her father, signifying her choice to give up her immortality to be with him.
Standing in the same spot as the characters in the movie, you watched as he retrieved the jewellery from his pocket. "Come, my lady. Would you like to recreate that scene?" he asked playfully, holding out the pendant.
Meeting his gaze, you took a deep breath before reciting your favourite line, "I would rather share one lifetime with you... than face all the ages of the world alone."
At that moment, the playfulness faded from his expression, and he sensed a deeper meaning behind your words, a reflection of your genuine emotions toward each other. Recalling a past conversation where you admitted that without him, you might have chosen not to love at all, he was deeply moved. Leaning in, he pressed his lips to yours, conveying his affection. Pulling back slightly, he grinned, "That has to be the most romantic thing you've ever said to me. Can you say that to me every once in a while?"
You chuckled, giving him a playful smack on the chest. "If that's what it takes to stop you from annoying me, then yes."
"Hey!" he protested, chasing after you as you ran off to explore other areas of Rivendell.
As you wandered, you recognised the next destination instantly—it was where Aragorn dreamed of his time with Arwen. With a grin, Wooyoung sauntered over and lay down on the futon, attempting to recreate the scene once again. You stood where the she-elf had stood, watching him pretend to wake up.
"I am asleep. This is a dream," he recited Aragorn's words, and you burst into a small giggle. Settling down beside him, you recited Arwen's line, "Then it is a good dream. Sleep," before leaning down to kiss him as she had.
Deep down, you both wished to stay in this fantasy forever, but you knew you had to part for the story to progress. He sighed as you pulled away. "As much as I'd love to keep staying here with you, the war isn't going to win itself. I'll see you at the end of the story."
You nodded, kissing him again. "See you, Woo." He winked as he got up from his spot. "Don't worry, I won't spare Éowyn a glance."
Laughing, you waved as you watched him go.
You anticipated what was to come next, knowing that it was the day when most of the elves in Rivendell would depart for Valinor, the Undying Lands. It was the moment when Elrond would once again attempt to persuade Arwen to go with them.
As you lay on the futon in your room, watching the white curtains flutter gently in the breeze, you prepared yourself for the inevitable. Just as your thoughts turned to your boyfriend, your father entered, speaking in Sindarin, the Elven language. Remarkably, you comprehended every word.
"It is time. The ships are departing for Valinor. Go now... before it is too late."
Oh boy, here we go.
You immediately sat up from your position to respond, "I have already made my choice." Elrond took a step closer to you. "He is not coming back. Why do you linger here when there is no hope?" You gazed up at him, overwhelmed by the emotions flowing through your being that were Arwen's, as you answered, "There is still hope."
Because you knew there was.
As he continued his monologue, which you had already heard more than once and knew was coming, it still hurt. His words reminded you that no matter what, choosing to be with Aragorn—or in your case, Wooyoung—would only lead to pain. Tears streamed down your cheeks, his words echoing the sentiments you had heard from your parents when they desperately tried to separate you and your boyfriend, telling you he could not offer you much and that you would only end up regretting your decision.
"There is nothing for you here. Only death," he uttered, and your heart broke despite expecting those words. The words sounded eerily familiar to what you had heard in a different context, where Wooyoung would not be able to bring you everlasting happiness and his perceived incompetence would eventually disappoint you.
No, that's not true...
But you felt a new emotion when Elrond sat down beside you, looking down at you with so much pain in his eyes. You could see he was not ready to lose his daughter. It must have been cruel for him that his daughter was choosing to die and leave his side.
He wiped your tears away gently. "Do I not also have your love?"
For once, you empathised with his feelings and wondered if this was how your parents felt. You used to view Elrond as the bad guy for constantly trying to separate his daughter from the man she loved. Were your parents also like him? Were they afraid of losing you? Maybe they just didn't know your boyfriend well enough and didn't trust him yet to take care of you. You felt yourself crumbling under the weight of these thoughts.
"You have my love, father," you cried as he enveloped you in his arms. Perhaps you were a bad daughter, not for choosing to be with Wooyoung, but for failing to help your parents understand why you chose him.
If you couldn't ease your parents' worries in reality, perhaps you could do it here for your fictional father. You were certain Wooyoung would understand; none of this was real anyway. He was still yours, and you would always be his. Maybe, just maybe here, you could be a good daughter to Elrond.
Joining the rest of the elves and making your way towards the ship to Valinor, you couldn't shake the feeling of uncertainty gnawing at you. Despite your initial determination to stand firm in your decision to pick your boyfriend, you found yourself swept along with the crowd. Just like Arwen, you were heading towards the Undying Lands.
However, unlike her, you didn't have the vision of her child with Aragorn to sway your decision. You already knew how her story ended. Perhaps it was up to you to create a different ending.
Forgive me, Woo.
As the story reached its climax and the victory over Sauron marked the beginning of a new era for Middle-earth, everything seemed to pass in a blur. Finally, it was Aragorn's coronation in Minas Tirith, and Wooyoung turned around excitedly after Gandalf placed the crown on his head. Throughout the events, he had fun experiencing what the ranger did, but his thoughts were consumed by you. Maybe living the lives of the main characters was more burdensome than enjoyable.
After exchanging words with Legolas and anticipating your arrival, Wooyoung turned expectantly, only to find you missing. You did not appear the way Arwen did for Aragorn. The realisation dawned on him with dread—if you weren't there, it could only mean you must have left for Valinor. He approached Lord Elrond, whose expression remained unreadable, and asked, "Did she...?"
As your father bowed his head slightly and offered a pat on the shoulder, Wooyoung's heart sank like a stone. The weight of the realisation pressed down on him: you had chosen to leave. But why?
What had prompted you to go, despite your promise to reunite with him here? Had Elrond's words swayed you? Did they somehow make you see that perhaps your parents had been right all along? You had warned him not to let the emotions of his character overwhelm him, but had you succumbed to them yourself? These questions swirled in his mind, leaving him grasping for answers.
"She hoped you'd understand," Elrond said.
Your boyfriend offered a humourless smirk. "That I'd understand...? I suppose I do."
"Do you really? Tell me what you understand then," your voice chimed in from behind him, causing him to whirl around with wide eyes. There you stood, a mischievous grin lighting up your face. "Surprise, Jung Wooyoung. Did you think I wasn't going to come back to you?" you whispered, prompting him to cup your face tenderly. "You little minx," he muttered before capturing your lips in a loving kiss, eliciting cheers from the crowd.
As you pulled away and embraced him, you caught sight of your father's gaze. The expression on Lord Elrond’s face as he let his daughter go was a mix of love, fear, and vulnerability. It was the look of a father releasing his child to pursue something he didn’t entirely approve of but knew would bring her happiness. He struggled to maintain his composure, torn between his paternal instincts and the desire to see you happy. That night, you eventually broke away from the group bound for Valinor and returned to Rivendell, much like Arwen did. Your mind was filled with thoughts of Wooyoung, and you knew you could never let him go—neither in your world nor in this one.
"You know, I was just thinking... being the main character really isn't all it's cracked up to be," your boyfriend mused as you both lay in the King's chambers.
With your head nestled on his chest, you nodded, "I agree. It made me feel way too much emotion. But... I do think it's time I talk to my parents about us. They're my parents, and you're the love of my life. I can't imagine life without either of you. Hopefully, they'll be as understanding as Elrond was."
He smiled, pulling you closer, "Yeah, maybe we should have made more effort before."
Cuddling closer to him, you continued, "Yes, maybe... but yeah, we've already played the roles of both new and main characters. Perhaps it'd be nice to simply exist in a story without importance just like extras."
He sighed, kissing your head, "That does sound nice... We'll just be spectators, enjoying our place in the universe."
Closing your eyes, you sensed a peculiar shift in your surroundings, almost like you were on a train. When you opened your eyes again, you furrowed your brows in confusion. You were still in Wooyoung's arms, but Middle-earth was nowhere to be seen.
Shaking your boyfriend awake, you felt his body tense beside you as he tightened his grip on you. With a gasp, he absorbed the new setting. Indeed, you were on a train, but not just any train...
The Hogwarts Express.
Locking eyes, you whispered in unison, "We're going to Hogwarts."
As if on cue, the lady pushing the trolley of sweets appeared, her voice chirping, "Anything from the trolley, dears?"
Before you could decline, Wooyoung swiftly released you and darted forward. "Ooh, yes! Two pumpkin pasties, please! I've always wanted to try them," he exclaimed, rubbing his palms together eagerly.
You tugged at his shirt, glaring, and silently mouthed, "Do we even have any money?" He froze, realisation dawning, and reached into his pockets. With a sigh of relief, he produced some coins. Winking at you, he grinned, "Don't worry, love. I've got this."
As he finished the purchase, he lingered by the door, watching with wide eyes as the lady rolled her trolley to the next compartment. With his jaw dropped in awe, he turned to you, whispering excitedly, "Oh my god, it's Harry Potter! Holy crap, the Golden Trio is in the next compartment."
Rushing back to settle beside you, he handed you a pumpkin pasty and began talking animatedly while stuffing his face, his words muffled, "I recognised that look on him. We're in the fourth year."
You raised a brow, "Goblet of Fire."
He nodded eagerly, "Exactly. The Triwizard Tournament and, most importantly," you both said in unison, "the Yule Ball."
You pondered, "Hold on a second. If we're in the fourth year, then that would mean we've already been sorted. Which houses do you think we're in, Woo?"
He grinned, "Only one way to find out," as he reached for your suitcases from the rack above your seats.
With bated breath, you watched him work on opening them. "Let's hope we're in the same house. It would be funny if you ended up in Slytherin somehow," you remarked.
He scoffed, "No way, I'm a Gryffindor through and through. Wanna bet?"
You shook your head, "No, thank you."
He pouted, "I was going to ask for a kiss if I won the bet, darn it."
You chuckled, "Hurry up, you rascal."
As he opened the first suitcase, he grinned at you, revealing the red Gryffindor scarf along with his uniform. "I told you," he chuckled before moving on to the next one. "Keep your fingers crossed, love," he urged. And you did. When he finally opened them, you couldn't contain your joy at seeing the same scarf along with your robes.
Moments later, the two of you stood in awe at the unbelievable sight of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry before your eyes. Your eyes welled with tears as you squeezed Wooyoung's hand. "We're here, Woo. We're really here," you whispered.
He nodded, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. "We are."
Before you could continue revelling in the moment, a nearby prefect rolled his eyes. "Move along, you two. You act like it's your first time here," he said with a shake of his head. Your boyfriend tugged you along as you blew a raspberry, muttering under your breath, "Because it is."
Entering the castle, you noticed a crowd gathering by the bridge, evidently anticipating something exciting. Gasping in excitement, you quickly pulled Wooyoung along. "We have to see this! It's the arrival of the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students."
As the Beauxbatons arrived in their majestic flying carriage and the Durmstrang in their impressive underwater ship, your boyfriend's attention remained solely on you. Sensing his gaze, you turned to share a smile. "That's right, keep your eyes on me just like that. I better not catch you gawking at the Beauxbatons girls when they make their grand entrance later," you teased.
He laughed and drew you close, whispering in your ear, "Don't worry, you're prettier than all of them combined."
Blushing, you looked away. "Pssh, sweet talker," you responded with a playful roll of your eyes, unable to suppress your grin.
But as the girls from the foreign school made their entrance, dancing into the Great Hall later that evening, you couldn't stifle a snort at Wooyoung's reaction. Like Ron, he was clapping enthusiastically, clearly impressed by the display.
Pfft, all men do is lie.
Beside you, Hermione and Ginny exchanged judgemental stares, mirroring your own sentiments. It was hard to contain your amusement as you watched the boys.
When the guys from Durmstrang made their grand entrance, you found yourself staring dreamily ahead, just like Wooyoung had done with the Beauxbatons girls. Thankfully, your boyfriend didn't discriminate; he seemed just as entranced by the dashing and charismatic Viktor Krum as you were.
You burst into giggles when he finally met your gaze with wide eyes. It was his fanboying moment, and you couldn't blame him because you felt exactly the same. You still couldn't believe you were really here with him. Sure, you had already been to Narnia and Middle-earth, but the Wizarding World held a special place in both your hearts.
The next day, seated beside your boyfriend in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, you both observed with amusement as Mad-Eye Moody began his lesson. The students appeared bewildered by his aggressive demeanour and uncomfortable lecture on the three Unforgivable Curses.
Wooyoung leaned in to whisper in your ear, "What do you think would happen if we exposed him as Barty Crouch Jr right here?"
You turned to shush him with a glare. "We're just extras here, so please act like it and avoid drawing any attention to ourselves."
The rest of the class unfolded exactly as you had anticipated, with Harry growing increasingly suspicious of Moody as the professor continued to gulp down his Polyjuice potion. You and Wooyoung exchanged knowing grins, rooting for him.
After class, you both hurried excitedly to the Great Hall, where students interested in participating in the Triwizard Tournament were submitting their names. Settling on a bench, you watched in fascination as the blue flame flickered brightly, students from all three schools stepping forward to cast their papers into the fire.
Your hearts sank when you saw Cedric Diggory eagerly submitting his name. If only he knew the tragic fate that awaited him.
"I suppose there's nothing we can do about it, huh?" Wooyoung asked, his tone heavy with resignation.
You shook your head sadly. "I'm afraid not."
The sombre mood only lasted so long as the Weasley twins, Fred and George, appeared with their usual antics, brandishing their ageing potion in hopes of submitting their names to the Triwizard Tournament despite Hermione's reminder that only seventh-years could participate, you and your boyfriend couldn't contain your laughter. True to your expectations, the twins were ejected back from the goblet, sprouting white beards and sparking a playful fight that drew a crowd of onlookers egging them on.
However, the atmosphere shifted when Viktor Krum marched in with his headmaster trailing behind him. You and Wooyoung shared a giggle as the Durmstrang heartthrob locked eyes with Hermione.
Leaning in, you whispered in a hushed tone, "If not Harry, I still prefer Hermione with Viktor over Ron, to be honest."
Your boyfriend feigned offence, pressing a hand to his chest. "How could you? Hermione and Ron are the one true pair."
As the two of you engaged in your heated debate, time flew by and the next thing you knew, Dumbledore entered the hall with most of the students, announcing, "Now, the moment you've all been waiting for: the champion selection." Exchanging a knowing glance with your boyfriend, you both sighed in anticipation. "Oh dear, here we go."
As Dumbledore announced Viktor, Fleur, and Cedric as the champions of their respective schools, you held your breath, feeling a twinge of sympathy for Harry Potter, the boy who lived. "Excellent! We now have our three champions!" boomed Dumbledore, his voice reverberating through the hall before unveiling the Triwizard Cup.
You winced, murmuring under your breath, "Only one more to go."
Beside you, your boyfriend shook his head with a hint of amusement. "Man, if only they knew the Cup was turned into a Portkey, none of that drama would happen."
You pursed your lips thoughtfully. "Yes, and then there would be no more story to tell now, would there?"
He snorted softly. "True."
As Harry's name was called out, disbelief swept through the Great Hall. You watched with a sinking feeling as even his friends began to stare at him accusatorily, wondering how he managed to enter his name into the Goblet of Fire when he was only a fourth year.
Your eyes landed on Mad-Eye Moody, or rather Barty Crouch Jr in disguise, knowing he was behind this sinister plot. Exchanging hopeless gazes with Wooyoung, you both understood that, at this moment, you were nothing more than spectators. There was no action you could take; you were simply here to witness events unfold.
Perhaps, as much as you wish otherwise, some things were simply meant to be. Your boyfriend covered your hand with his, offering comfort. "Since we can't change anything here, let's not stress about it and just enjoy the moment, hm?"
A smile graced your lips, and you nodded. "You're right, Woo."
"There he is—the poor thing."
You both were hanging out in the courtyard, enjoying the calm before the storm of the Triwizard Tournament's first task, when you spotted Harry passing through, looking visibly distressed. Your sympathy for him grew as you remembered the strained dynamics between him and his friends. Ron and the others firmly believed that Harry had somehow entered his name into the tournament and deliberately kept it from them. It was disheartening to see no one on his side, and you felt frustrated on his behalf.
As expected, Draco Malfoy, with his trademark smugness, decided to provoke him. "My father and I had a bet, you see," he said, dropping down from his perch on the tree. "I don't think you're going to last ten minutes in the tournament." His cronies followed suit as he continued, "He disagrees; he thinks you won't last five."
You and Wooyoung watched as Harry retaliated, standing up to the blonde Slytherin with fiery determination. "I don't care what your father thinks, Malfoy! He's vile and cruel, and you're pathetic."
Just as expected, Draco attempted to strike back, only to be swiftly turned into a ferret by Mad-Eye Moody, eliciting laughter from the crowd. It was perhaps the only time you agreed with Barty Crouch Jr's actions, the only moment he seemed remotely likeable.
However, the amusement was short-lived as Professor McGonagall appeared to play the role of the good cop, firmly instructing Moody to release the bully from his transfiguration punishment.
"My father will hear about this!" Draco's famous words echoed across the courtyard as he hurried away from the scene he caused. Though Wooyoung knew he shouldn't interfere, his irritated state got the best of him, prompting him to slyly stick out his foot and trip the Slytherin as he passed by the two of you.
"How dare you!" Draco hissed, glaring up at your boyfriend.
Gasping, you dragged Wooyoung away with you, shouting, "Sorry, he didn't mean it!"
From across the courtyard, you caught Harry's eye and saw him nod appreciatively at both of you. Wooyoung beamed, waving enthusiastically before watching him go.
Turning back to your boyfriend, you smacked him lightly on the arm. "You! I can't believe you did that," you chided.
Wooyoung stuck his tongue out playfully. "Well, it sure feels satisfying, doesn't it? Besides, Harry acknowledged us."
You sighed, a small smile tugging at your lips. "I suppose so."
The next day, you found yourselves seated among the crowd at the stands, eagerly awaiting the commencement of the first task: retrieving a golden egg guarded by a dragon. "Bets, place your bets!" Fred's voice rang out, followed closely by George's enthusiastic calls for wagers. "Bets taken, bets taken here!"
As the twins walked around, collecting bets on who would win first place, you sensed your boyfriend about to place a bet himself. With a disapproving click of your tongue, you shook your head. "It wouldn't be fair when you already know who wins!"
He shushed you with a grin. "All the more reason to place my bet! When else will I ever be this lucky, love?"
Resigned, you gave up and shook your head in mock exasperation.
As you watched the first three champions' attempts with bated breath, your nerves were on edge despite knowing they would emerge unscathed. Sensing your anxiety, Wooyoung took your hand and pressed his lips to the back of it. "Hey, it's going to be okay. You already know how it ends."
With a sigh of defeat, you leaned into his side, seeking comfort in his warmth as he wrapped an arm around you. "You're right, I do know," you murmured softly.
Your thoughts drifted to Cedric, and a pang of sadness washed over you as you remembered his tragic fate. It was difficult to watch him knowing what awaited him, but you found solace in your boyfriend's reassuring presence.
When it was finally Harry's turn, you couldn't tear your eyes away from the task, despite knowing the outcome. Every moment felt tense and fraught with danger, and you held your breath until he emerged victorious, tied with Viktor for first place.
Reflecting on the experience, you realised that being part of the scene was far more stressful than reading about it or watching it in a movie, especially when you cared deeply for the people involved.
As the Gryffindor common room buzzed with excitement and everyone crowded around Harry that evening, who proudly displayed his golden egg containing a clue for the second task, you and Wooyoung hung back, observing from a distance. Amidst the cheering and clamour, you both knew what was coming next.
When Seamus tossed the egg back to Harry, urging him to reveal the clue, you exchanged knowing glances. As he held the egg aloft and asked the crowd if they wanted him to open it, the room erupted in enthusiastic agreement. But you and your boyfriend were prepared. With a shared understanding, you plugged your ears, bracing yourselves for the inevitable shrieking noise.
Oh, you're all going to regret that.
As expected, the piercing screech from the golden egg sent everyone in the common room to their knees, hands clamped over their ears in a futile attempt to block out the noise. Amidst the chaos, Harry quickly shut the egg, bringing a momentary relief from the ear-splitting sound.
"What the bloody hell was that?"
Ron's abrupt entrance, punctuated by his exclamation, broke the tension in the room, casting a palpable awkwardness between him and Harry. The silence stretched, thick with the weight of unspoken tension, until one of the twins intervened.
"Alright, everyone, go back to your... knitting," Fred declared, breaking the spell of discomfort. "This is going to be uncomfortable enough without all you nosey sods listening in."
The crowd dispersed, giving the two friends the privacy they needed to reconcile. As Ron and Harry finally made amends, you and Wooyoung shared a smile, feeling genuinely happy for Harry. For now, at least, things were looking up. And the best part of it all was yet to come—the Yule Ball.
You and Wooyoung exchanged eager glances as McGonagall began the dance lesson to prepare everyone in Gryffindor for the ball. Dancing had always been a fun pastime for the two of you, but now, being able to do it alongside your favourite characters and in your favourite fantasy world filled you with excitement.
As the professor made poor Ron demonstrate a dance with her, eliciting stifled laughter from the onlookers, she finally called out, "Everyone, come together! Boys, on your feet!" The girls eagerly stood up, ready to dance, while the boys groaned, leaving Neville and your boyfriend as the only ones rising from their seats.
"Wow, you're really lucky," Hermione remarked from beside you as Wooyoung made his way towards you. Unlike the others who struggled to find partners, you didn't have to worry. "He's hardly ever far from your side. You both seem genuinely in love."
You nodded, offering a shy smile, "Thank you, I believe so too."
As he pulled you into his arms and started dancing alongside Neville and Ginny, Wooyoung couldn't resist asking, "So, what did Hermione say to you?" You playfully stuck your tongue out at him, teasing, "Wouldn't you like to know?" He pouted, drawing his forehead close to yours. "Please, I really would like to know," he pleaded.
You chuckled, giving in to his curiosity. "She said I was lucky to have you, and that we seemed really in love." His playful grin shifted into a sincere one. "Well, she's right about that," he admitted warmly.
You smirked, teasing him further. "To be fair, when is Hermione Granger ever wrong?"
He shrugged, conceding the point. "Hmm, I guess you're right."
The following days were filled with hilarity as you witnessed Harry and Ron's struggles to find dates for the ball. The ginger's dramatic theatrics, particularly after embarrassing himself while trying to ask Fleur Delacour, provided endless entertainment. Meanwhile, poor Harry faced rejection from Cho Chang, who had already accepted Cedric's invitation.
From your corner of the couch, you and Wooyoung snickered at their misfortunes. Eventually, they settled on asking Padma and Parvati Patil. Before you knew it, you were also preparing for the ball. Like magic, you and your boyfriend found your dream outfits in your dorm wardrobe, ready to make a grand entrance at the event.
While your boyfriend had shown you his outfit for the event, you opted to surprise him later in the evening. Inspired by Hermione's iconic entrance, you planned to arrive early and make your own grand appearance without overshadowing her.
Wooyoung waited patiently outside the Great Hall, his heart quickening at the sight of the beautifully decorated winter-themed hall. "Hey, isn't that your girl?" Cedric nudged him, directing his attention to the staircase. Following the Hufflepuff's gesture, his breath caught as he watched you descend, momentarily capturing the crowd's attention with your shy smile.
With graceful steps, you made your way down in an off-shoulder black floor-length dress, adorned with delicate gold patterns that exuded elegance and regality. Unlike others, you chose to leave your hair down, adding a touch of effortless charm to your appearance. Despite having seen you in numerous stunning gowns from Narnia and Middle-earth, you never failed to leave him awestruck with your beauty. Perhaps he was biased, but to him, you were the most captivating presence in the room. And being his favourite colour, black only enhanced your allure in his eyes.
He whispered, "I'm the luckiest man alive, I swear," and you giggled. "Stop it, you," you playfully chided as you fixed his slightly crooked bow. As you did, he gently tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear and continued, "I mean it. You're the most beautiful girl here."
You nodded, leaning in to peck his lips before replying, "And you're the most handsome boy here." His cheeky grin widened, and he responded smugly, "I know."
Pulling you gently towards the hall, he said, "Let's go eat before all the dancing starts."
The night passed in a whirlwind of dancing, with Wooyoung holding you close throughout, growing protective whenever he sensed other guys eyeing you. As the event gradually wound down, you found yourselves still on the dance floor, swaying together.
Slowly, a sense of drowsiness began to wash over you. Maybe it was time to return to reality. You knew what would come next in the story, and with the impending challenges and heartaches, you weren't sure you wanted to witness it firsthand. Perhaps it was best to leave the Wizarding World on a high note, with fond memories.
You exchanged smiles with Neville and Ginny, who were also enjoying the moment nearby. Then, you sighed and rested your head on your boyfriend's shoulder, feeling his reassuring embrace. "Woo?" you murmured.
He kissed your cheek softly. "Yes, love?"
Tightening your hold around his shoulders, you snuggled into the crook of his neck. "I'm tired... I think I'm ready to go home."
He smiled, his heart growing warm at the thought of home as he leaned his head against yours. "Me too. I guess that's enough adventure for now."
Living out his fantasies had been incredible, but perhaps he, too, was starting to feel a bit homesick and ready to return home.
He gently stroked your hair as his eyelids grew heavy. Sometimes, the allure of escaping into fantasy worlds was irresistible, offering a temporary reprieve from the challenges of reality. But as the quiet settled around, Wooyoung knew that no matter how enchanting these worlds might be, they were only temporary escapes.
The surroundings gradually quieted, and when he opened his eyes again, he found himself back in the comforting familiarity of your shared bedroom. You were nestled in his arms, peacefully asleep, and he had never felt more relieved. Drawing the covers snugly around you, he felt a deep sense of contentment settle within him.
"Home. We're home," he whispered, finally allowing himself to drift off into a restful sleep, grateful to be back where he truly belonged with you by his side.
This is as good as a compilation of some of my favourite parts from these film series. I know this might not be for everyone, but I wrote this mainly just to fulfil my own fantasies hehe.🙈
If you've made it this far, thank you for reading! Are you also a fan of these AUs? Let me know in the comments! <3
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#edenesth#ateez#ateez fanfic#ateez fanfiction#jung wooyoung#ateez wooyoung#narnia au#lotr au#hogwarts au#wooyoung x reader#wooyoung x you#ateez fic#wooyoung oneshot#ateez oneshot
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i do want to say to the other nonhumans who have been told that their otherkin, fictionkin, therian, alterhuman, or other nonhuman identity is "just a phase" and that it would go away if you "had less free time" or "more to do with your time"- i want to say that at least in my case, that's really just a big fat lie
i began identifying as nonhuman in late 2010, early 2011. i was browsing otherkin forums back then, back when forums were still widely used. it took up a lot of my thoughts at first because it was new and it can take a while to figure out what your nonhuman identity is. as time passed and my life got progressively harder, going through bouts of homelessness, living in hotels, having my trust broken by friends... never did i once lose my nonhumanity.
sure it fell to the back of my mind while other priorities took the wheel, like paying for shelter, but if anything, being homeless and experiencing the "real world" solidified my nonhuman identity more than anything. being exposed to the "real world" make me understand that i do not understand how humans think, and that i still am not one, over 10 years later. i never became misanthropic, but my feelings of "otherness" only intensified as i became more and more confused about the human experience, which lead me to feel less and less like one. something like the feeling of a lost coyote who wandered too far into the city, staring at the city skyline, unfamiliar with this terrain, unsure of how to even begin to adapt.
if something is a part of you, it won't just go away because other things come along. i never stopped identifying as a wolfdog even while i was scared out of my mind and busy facing the challenges of the human world. those challenges and hurdles that don't exist in the natural world literally reinforced my understanding of my nonhumanity. i will simply never get the way humans think or operate, and that's fine. it's literally a non-issue. they don't get me, either.
#nonhuman#otherkin#therian#alterhuman#canine therian#wolf therian#dog therian#kin#our writing#about us#fictionkin
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I saw someone mention that because Alastor is a radio host, music is the one thing he stays up to date and modern on and I totally agree.
(Granted, most of what he plays on his OWN show and through his microphone/himself is stuff he listened to when he was alive, but he's not unaware of music that's been broadcast since then. He quite likes the jazz and swing that's been created since his death, and does play that on his station as well.)
When the mood strikes, he does take requests from callers into his station, and quite often allows suggestions that aren't his normal listening experience or what he typically plays.
(Alastor finds it entertaining the type of people who not only listen, but also call in to request songs and/or ask advice, and he is nothing if not an exceptional radio host who will keep listener engagement.)
All this is to say, is I had a funny thought but had to preface with my own headcanons to even make it make sense.
One night, Vox gets drunk and "anonymously" calls into Alastor's radio show and rants and rambles about how much they were good together and that he'll do whatever to get Alastor back!
(It's up to you to decide what their pre-enemies relationship even was, here. How delusional IS Vox being? Choose your own adventure. Regardless, Alastor has absolutely no interest in having Any kind of relationship with Vox.)
Alastor doesn't do much other than play the phone call over his station, make some quip about not being interested in desperate clout-chasers, and then plays "Feather" by Sabrina Carpenter.
(The rest of his broadcast is spent playing similar songs. It's the one time when his entire broadcast is modern music.)
It takes Velvette at least a week straight to scrub any digital recording of the phone call or even the entire broadcast off the internet.
(Angel has a copy. Occasionally, he re-uploads it to cause chaos and because, as a reward, Alastor lets him touch his ears for one full minute.)
Alastor never even needs to name drop Vox here, everyone just Knows.
#hazbin hotel#alastor#vox#one sided radiostatic#radiostatic#one way broadcast#fic#mine#hazbin alastor#hazbin vox#this is so stupid im so sorry but the brainworms#this is the one time Alastor plays almost exclusively modern songs#the rest of his broadcast is other shit like take a hint and fan behavior to really drive home the point
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What are your thoughts on companies like this that offer 'coaching services' for hopeful unpublished novelists?
This smells of scam to me but maybe I'm just a cynic:
Publishing Your Book
Query Letter Coaching/Editing – $550 per book (this includes two passes)
Synopsis Coaching & Editing – $750 per book (this includes two passes)
Proposal Coaching & Editing – $1,500 per book
Traditional Publishing Coaching – $200/hour (finding an agent, crafting your proposal, etc.)
Indie Publishing – $1000 (distribution to all platforms for optimal international exposure, guidance on pricing, blurb-writing, logistics, and keywords)
ISBNs for Indie Publishing – $150 per book format. Free if publishing through [the company selling these coaching services]
Briefly: before I got involved with any such operation, I'd want to talk to (multiple) people they'd worked with previously and find out what kinds of experiences they'd had. And in line with this, I'd be extremely cautious about any operation that wasn't run by professionals with a verifiable track record, and which wouldn't offer verifiable examples of feedback from people whose reality as non-sockpuppets could also be confirmed. And whom you could contact without having to go through the company in question.
On other issues: I'm looking kind of askance at some of those prices. (Here adding the disclaimer: I know people who do this kind of work out of a grounding of significant expertise and in good faith, and I'm not clear on what they're charging because I haven't really looked into it... not particularly needing it myself at this late stage in the game.)
At least part of the problem I'm having with the prices being charged in your example is based on the knowledge of how very much information of this kind is available free online. And yeah, there's the old chestnut about "The advice is worth what you've paid for it"... but that has sort of an unspoken negative corollary: "Except when you've paid for it and it nonetheless turns out not to have been worth much."
The trouble with the non-independent-publishing suggestions is that all of them deal with imponderables. Even if all the advice you purchase from those people at all those varied prices is absolutely right on the money, there's still no way to guarantee that any of it is going to lead to success in getting query letters, synopses or proposals actually looked at. Which puts this whole concept squarely in the nature of a gamble.
Not that luck doesn't have a role to play in a professional writing career. Sometimes you're just standing in the right place at the right time with a manuscript in your hands. But getting the idea that you can depend on that luck for any reason is unwise... as divine Fortuna is anciently famous for wandering all over the room, blowing on other folks' dice. (And if this makes me sound like I fall well down on the "Fortune Favors The Prepared" end of the spectrum: yeah, that.)
My advice would be to spend a good long while online, thoroughly researching all the free sites that have info to offer on all the traditional-publishing-facing topics. Then, after exhausting the available possibilities, if you still think you need to engage paid professional assistance... make inquiries among as many verifiable professionals as you can non-invasively query, before parting with any money at all.
As regards the indie-oriented fees: I'm finding those pretty steep. The prices for ISBNs in particular bother me. (Especially since in many places you can routinely buy packages of ten for about what these folks would charge you for two.) Yes, they're free if you publish with them: that sounds lovely. But publishers would normally buy many of those packages of ten. Or packages of a hundred: the more ISBNs you buy at once, the cheaper they get. And if you're paying the company for other services, who cares about the ISBNs? They're making money off you in different ways. Possibly equally overpriced ones.
So to finish: this is very much caveat emptor territory. There will inevitably be scammers out there, claiming their rates to be less than "bigger companies" are charging, but still too much. Therefore... advance only with utmost care.
...And adding this: @petermorwood glanced at the price list over my shoulder and said, "I wouldn't touch any of those with a barge pole."
At any rate: HTH!
...And now a word regarding our regrettably fickle non-sponsor, via Ol' Blue Eyes. :)
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WHAT'S NEXT:
The out pouring of love for this blog has swept me off my feet. I knew the logic behind the follower count, but this weekend proved to me without a shadow of a doubt just how much this fandom cherishes these characters and this story.
I am overwhelmed with adoration towards every. single. one. of you.
I took the weekend to finally recoup after the whirlwind of this past year but wanted to take a moment now to answer some of the questions I've seen pop up and to inform you all of what my plans are for what's next.
FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS:
WILL YOU CONTINUE THE ACCOUNT THIS YEAR?
This took me a long time to ponder and I wanted to make sure I was in the correct headspace to answer it. Short answer: No.
Long answer: All For The Game is near and dear to my heart. And the reason I began this account was because the dates for 2023 matched that of the dates they were meant to be in 2006. To continue it in the year 2024 would mean the dates would be completely wrong and a lot more logistics would have to occur beforehand.
But also-- I'm not the best when it comes to technology, especially when it comes to BOTS so every post that was published was typed out, formatted and scheduled by hand by me. I did not have help. I did not have proofreaders, or editors, or managers. I contacted all the artists myself, sorted through every single page of the artists to find matches to the story, read and re-read the books for exact or guesstimation of dates/times, and made a hell of a lot of typos on the way through all that.
There was probably an easier way that I could have done all this. But I didn't/don't know it. So that all boils down to: It’s a long and tiring process.
Don't get me wrong, it was worth all the hours. And all the sleepless nights I had getting everything done and out. I already thanked my support network, but without my wife and my best friend being there to make me another cup of coffee, walk our dog, do the chores and generally make sure I didn't crumble from the pressure -- none of this would have happened.
So, putting myself through that again, after everything that has happened this year alone-- felt like it would cheapen the experience I had when the dates won't even match.
That being said.... 2034 isn't that far away. >__>
WILL YOU BE DOING AN OTDITSC?
Short answer: No.... sorry.
Long answer: As stated, it is VERY hard to organize what and how I did. HOURS spent researching, organizing, scheduling, etc. Time spent away from my family and other hobbies. NOT time I regret (need to keep prefacing that) but time I want back now. At least for a little bit.
It also doesn't sit right for me to start an OTDITSC when I know some people are still waiting for their copies. There are so many of us out here (as I've come to find out) and I don't want to exclude people's enjoyment and connection that this account gives. I also feel like the more posts about TSC out there, the harder it is for those who are (lets say) waiting for the physical copies to block/mute spoilers. We can say a tag is enough, but this is the internet. And that's not always true.
And lastly, personally, TSC is still SO VERY NEW. It's not even complete yet and we don't 100% know when the next one will be published. I don't want to start something, get to the end of the timeline, and than have a huge gap between posts that will potentially be moments in the second book. It doesn't feel fair to their story, to myself, or to the followers of this account to have incorrect information for something I love so dearly. If I'm doing it. I want to do it right.
SO, WHAT'S NEXT?
Well. A lot. For me personally, as well as this account. I don't want to leave everyone in such a finite way. I love this fandom. I love its art and writings and the abundance of talent and joy that it exudes.
So first, for myself, as well as those artists who agreed to help with this account, I want to post, for the next 40 days Artist Highlights (that means this account will still be active until Friday, May 24th).
Every day, I will post about an Artist and the work that I wanted to post but couldn't fit in. I've said it before, and I'll say it again, these artists are the reason this account thrives. Art, in a multitude of forms, speaks in a way words can not. And these artists prove that.
I'm excited to show them off for a couple more weeks at least. They are all wonderful people.
AND, FINALLY:
To also tie us over, I am opening both my personal account as well as this account to questions.
Questions regarding the process, the story, the best movie out in theaters, whatever. I will be answering your questions (as fast as I can) until that last Artists Highlight day (Friday, May 24th). After this day, I will leave the questions answered up for a week, and then remove/delete them from this account. I want to make this more of an archive of sorts and will be updating the Timeline Page as this progresses as well, so you can move freely within the timeline.
Keep in mind that I am only one person, have a family and a full-time job-- so answers may be sporadic, but I will answer them.
This has truly been such a pleasure. And whether I get questions or not, I see you and I appreciate you. I hope your life is filled with everything you ever want, everything you need, and that you never let it go.
🦊 🧡- Kelysium
#aftg#all for the game#neil josten#tkm#the kings men#the foxhole court#andrew minyard#palmetto state university#psu foxes#andreil#on this day in aftg#otdiaftg#palmetto state foxes#otdi all for the game#nora sakavic#the foxes#on this day in all for the game
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Hi , miss Raven
Their is something has been on my mind for while ;
In rook suitor suit vignette he Compose a flattering poem about Crowley
While Ace and Epel was talking about how rook would compliment anyone , rook insisted that he mean every word he say .
And there's this specific weird line
"if it weren't for your presence , I wouldn't be here"
Like what do you mean?????!!
Do you think this line is hinting at the fact that rook didn't join NRC via traditional way or he wasn't chosen by the dark mirror , since he is one of the light trio
Or To the fact that he transferred to another dorm smoothly without any problem?
For some reason I started suspecting rook recently 😭
The fact he was one of the reason vil overbloted by convincing him to watch neige performance and also he is the one who convinced vil to add Ace and deuce as part of VDC team while I thought lilia and cater was a better option
I would like to hear your opinion about it 👀
Ah, so if I'm understanding you correctly... You're theorizing that Rook might be an outside agent of some kind? One that Crowley intentionally brought into NRC to facilitate triggering overblots??
I’ll try to respond to one question at a time; hopefully this will make it easier to follow along! The post got quite long, so it's all below the cut~
Beginning with Rook’s poem, and, more specifically, “If it weren’t for your presence, I wouldn’t be here”. It’s funny that you mention this line, because when the vignette first came out (in JP; the terminology used is similar to “I would not exist/be here”), people interpreted it VERY literally. As in… “Rook is Crowley’s son because he literally could not be conceived without a father! They’re even both named after birds! They have to at least be blood related somehow!” Strange how in 2020, Crowley was suspected of being Rook’s father but now in 2024 Crowley’s being suspected of being Malleus’s father. The poor headmaster just can’t catch a break 😂
Personally, I don’t think that line is implying anything strange about Rook’s enrollment. As far as we know, he did not join NRC though any abnormal means, and nor did Silver. Of the “light trio” (a label that I must stress exists within the fandom but is not endorsed by TWST), only Kalim fits the bill. Kalim was originally homeschooled, but received an acceptance letter to NRC a month into the school year. Another month later, he transferred in. As far as we know, all students at NRC (save for Yuu and Grim) were chosen by the Mirror of Darkness, even the light trio. Again, I want to emphasize that TWST does not use “light trio” or a similar term to refer to or to characterize Kalim, Silverc and Rook. We’ve gotten no formal in-universe explanation as to why those three in particular have light cosmic magic instead of everyone else’s dark cosmic magic. (This is entirely separate from meta theories, which are out-of-universe explanations for why the “light trio” exists. The popular meta explanation is that it’s because Silver, Kalim, and Rook are not twisted from Disney villains but rather “good” characters like Aurora, the Sultan, and the Huntsman.)
On the subject of transferring dorms, the option is always on the table. We see mob students talk about transferring dorms as early as 1-14:
In 6-67 (part 20 with the Pomefiore group), Vil describes the transfer process as being tedious and involving a lot of “complicated paperwork and ceremonies”. Crowley also says the process is “burdensome” in 1-20, but this phrasing is quite vague and could mean any number of things. (Burdensome to whom, the staff or the students? Why exactly is it burdensome?) Overall, it seems like transferring dorms would take a long time and require various formalities, but not necessarily be full of problems.
As long as you’re dedicated and consistently complete what is asked of you to complete the process, transferring should be no issue. I don’t think it’s a given that you’d normally experience troubles in trying to transfer. It should be smooth by default (unless the student backs out, is uncooperative, and/or fails to complete the required steps). So following that logic, I don’t think the poem line is saying anything about Rook’s dorm transfer either.
While it’s true that Rook encourages Vil to watch Neige’s performance and advises that Vil pick Ace and Deuce for the VDC/SDC Tribe, I do not believe there was malicious intent behind these actions. It’s hinted throughout book 5 that Rook’s reasoning for doing these things was to help Vil recognize the value of his “beauty” is something he gains from himself, not from the approval of others.
This is most likely Rook’s motivation for suggesting Vil observe the competition or to consider freshmen for the team. It’s exposing Vil to the contentedness that can come with imperfection or not being at the very top, something Vil fails to recognize in himself until the end of book 5. Being as perceptive as he is, Rook would have realized that outright telling Vil the moral of the week would not sway his strong-willed friend’s mind. Thus, Rook devised a more roundabout plan and involved Yuu (who, at this point, has a reputation for settling dorm-wide disputes) and co. (unpolished and clumsy underclassmen that Vil could shape as well as potentially also learn from in a reciprocal manner). Maybe Lilia and Cater would have been more technically skilled, being members of a club band and all, but they wouldn’t have provided the same opportunity for growth that Yuu and Adeuce did.
Rook is someone who has always been portrayed as a supporter of Vil’s, a good friend and a trusted confidant. He does have a nefarious side and is 100% capable of deception (like the time in Endless Halloween Night when he quickened his heartbeat to convince Sebek he was also scared and therefore was not a traitor). However, I don’t think Rook would want to betray his friends by actively harming them and putting their lives in danger (both during book 5’s overblot and immediately after in book 6’s rescue mission); he truly cares for them and wants to see them happy and healthy. (One could argue he should have voted for NRC instead of RSA to help Vil achieve his dream instead of betraying him, but that’s another discussion entirely.)
There’s no reason why Rook would go out of his way to do innocuous things like helping Epel with his UM or imparting wisdom to Deuce unless he actually cared and wanted to see them develop. Beyond the scope of book 5, why would Rook do even more innocuous things like trying to make Epel feel welcome and assisting him with learning table manners? Why wouldn’t he go out of his way to provoke Vil more often? Did Crowley hypothetically have even all of these little details down and instruct Rook to do (or not do) these things??? It sounds too far-fetched to attach a hidden motive behind everything Rook says or does. It could be as simple as “he wants to be there to support his friends”.
Before we wrap up, I’d like to quickly touch on the suggestion that Silver and Kalim too were catalysts for Malleus and Jamil’s OBs, respectively. It’s true that they were, but I doubt Silver or Kalim were aware and did so intentionally. Both seemed genuinely ignorant as to the true stress that Malleus and Jamil were under, and Silver + Kalim do not present as toxic people who would want to inflame their friends’ negativity. Of course, there’s always the possibility that Puppet Master Crowley (™) is orchestrating everything from the shadows (but I’m not going to get into the “time loop to gather all the necessary information and learn what the correct choices are” theory here www). I just don’t think Rook is Crowley’s accomplice in all of this if the time loop + intention overblots theories overlap.
This is one of those instances where I see Rook as being very honest with his intentions and because of his… generally strange character (?), his peers and players alike still suspect there is a deeper meaning to his words. I interpret his poem as nothing more than waxing poetic to expressing gratitude to the one man that makes it possible for him to be at NRC as a student: Crowley. Rook states that he wanted to give an exemplary poem using a subject that both Ace and Epel were already familiar with, so he went with the headmaster. Furthermore, we know that Rook is able to witness many wonderful and beautiful things at NRC, as well as make meaningful relationships with interesting people like Vil. He would not be able to do any of these things were he not extended an invitation to NRC—and it is for this reason that it would make sense for him to genuinely be appreciative of Crowley.
Those are all my thoughts on this matter all for now ^^ Hope it was an interesting read!
#twisted wonderland#twst#Rook Hunt#Dire Crowley#Kalim Al-Asin#Silver#disney twisted wonderland#disney twst#question#twst theory#twisted wonderland theories#twst theories#twisted wonderland theory#Cater Diamond#Lilia Vanrouge#Ace Trappola#Yuu#Deuce Spade#Vil Schoenheit#Jamil Viper#Malleus Draconia#book 7 spoilers#book 4 spoilers#book 5 spoilers#notes from the writing raven#rook suitor suit vignette spoilers#Epel Felmier#Pomefiore#Neige LeBlanche#endless halloween night spoilers
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☆ the wrong way to hard launch (10) | OP81
summary : oscar's girlfriend is a walking pr problem for literally everyone (including herself) social media au
pairing : oscar piastri x zhou!fem!singer!oc
a/n the calm before the storm?
masterlist | last part | part 10 | next part (tba)
INSTAGRAM
mclaren
Shanghai International Circuit
54,829 likes
mclaren Looks like a race day to me 🤔
tagged: oscarpiastri and landonorris
pi4str1 good luck papaya fam 🧡🧡🧡
michelle.ar manifesting double podiums again
jimpxcs Let's go boys 🔥
MESSAGES
from the phone of selina bui
TWITTER
↳ oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 2h
WELCOME BACK LINA F1 LIVE TWEETS
↳ piaa⁸¹ @papayaeightyone · 1h
she's so real for these reactions honestly 😭
INSTAGRAM
lilymhe just posted to their story
TWITTER
🕯️manifesting EB3 🕯️@ linabelles · 45m
stfu i'd know that silhouette anywhere. lily muni he at shenzhen n3???
↳ abby <3 @devilvows · 39m
not just lily! alex, logan and oscar were also spotted in the venue!!
piaa⁸¹ @ papayaeightyone · 21m
omg oscalina crumbs 🥹
↳ piaa⁸¹ @ papayaeightyone · 21m
this is so sad, they've already hard launched, why do i still feel like i'm in a drought
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lilymhe
liked by selinabui and 143,284 other
lilymhe Been hanging out with some rockstars lately 🤟
tagged: alex_albon, cameliazzz, selinabui and oscarpiastri
oscarpiastri Today I learnt: I still suck at golf
↳ selinabui @ oscarpiastri dw babe, at least we suck together ❤️🩹
↳ oscarpiastri @ selinabui 🥹
selinabui gonna stick to singing my silly songs that was such a humbling experience
↳ oscarpiastri @ selinabui You did better than Alex
pastry81 the mother convention ft some kens
alex_albon I personally don't recommend karaoke with a musician
linasgirl4 THANK U LILY MUNI HE FOR CONTRIBUTING TO THE OSCALINA PHOTOS WE APPRECIATE U GREATLY
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oscarpiastri
liked by selinabui and 201,395 others
oscarpiastri Some moments off-track
dan_pjd puppy !!!🥺 so we have roscoe hamilton, leo leclerc and this is...?
↳ marie_h.sb @dan_pjd apollo! lina adopted him a year ago
landonorris I thought that was lily but no, she's really serious about that golfing thing, ain't she?
celia.sucxr why does he keep posting her
↳ pastry81 @ celia.sucxr because that's his girlfriend???
TWITTER
oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 4h
too many people bitching and moaning about oscar posting about lina but u don't understand, if u were dating selina bui, u would also never stfu about her
↳ opal @pxastrixxx · 4h
she's still mid lmao
↳ oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 3h
until u have acclaimed music critics blaming ur success on pretty privilege, shut up :)
↳ kayla @luna_apocolypse · 3h
oomfie you ATE that and also unlocked a core memory
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emptybottles_official
Shenzhen Bay Sports Center
liked by zhouguanyu24 and 362,486 others
emptybottles_official A beautiful Shenzhen homecoming for Lina and Jonny 💖 Thank you guys so much for three amazing nights of fun (and screaming with us) 🔜 Bangkok
lilymhe had an absolute blast!
↳ emptybottles_official @ lilymhe join us again soon?
zhouguanyu24 Did she sing THE song?
↳ selinabui @ zhouguanyu24 keeping dreaming man
piastri_lina shenzhen, how does it feel to WIN 😭
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emme @flowersforcami · 1h
and what do melb n1, tokyo n2 (replacement) and shenzhen n3 have in common?
↳ oscalina real ?! @emptyginbottles · 49m
oscar piastri shows you will always be famous
↳ lukas 🔛🔝 @lukiepookie28 · 28m
no bc someone needs to get the stats on her energy when oscar is in the crowd like girlie is BEAMING
✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:
taglist @ririyulife @ashy-kit @fionaschicken @namgification @cherry-piee @urfavsgf @eiaaasamantha
#f1#oscar piastri#oscar piastri x oc#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri smau#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 smau#f1 fic#f1 smau#f1 imagine#f1 social media au
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going thru the drafts. this one was originally a fluffbruary prompt (whoops) but i chickened out
shower | blessed | layer
Dream is already in the kitchen when Hob gets home. Clattering through the door in a flurry of muffled curses and rustling fabric. He shucks off his coat and violently jabs it onto the coat hook, continuing to curse his way out of his shoes before standing upright again, flicking soaking wet hair back off his face.
“Hello, stranger.” He says, aiming for casual but falling a little closer to perfunctory, unable to fully hide his frustration.
“You’re –” Dream’s deep voice begins softly as Hob rushes to add, “I know – I’m late, I know.”
Dream, hands deep in his pockets, shoulders square, resting in one of Hob’s kitchen chairs, does not move to finish his sentence.
“‘Light morning showers’, my eye,” Hob mutters murderously as he passes Dream and the kitchen table and continues to clatter on into the kitchen. “Fucking pissing down all afternoon! Shoes are soaked. Thought my jacket would be enough for light showers so I didn’t take a sodding umbrella, like a fucking bellend. The tube was disgusting – full of everyone trying to get out of the rain. So it was full of rainwater and the water-soaked public which, let me tell you, is a particular bouquet I don’t need to experience again in a hurry. Not at the end of a work day. I mean – you want some of this?” He pauses, wine bottle in one hand, glass in another, gesturing with the bottle towards Dream. Dream inclines his head. “I mean say what you will about the past,” Hob continues, placing the first glass down and grabbing out a second, “plenty of smells of all kinds. But at least we didn’t have fuckin’ Lynx Africa. A tube full of B.O., soaked woollen suits, stale air, muddy rainwater, all coated with the chemical tang of Lynx fucking Africa?” He gags and pours a generous, sloshing glass of red. “Adding insult to injury. Didn’t know how good we had it.” He spins the cap back onto the bottle with a metallic little hiss. “Anyway,” he places the second glass down in front of Dream. “How was your day?”
At this Dream stands, eyes passing over Hob’s hair, falling to his shoulders, then down to his feet. “You are wet.”
“Yeah. Did you not hear the whole vitriolic spiel just now?”
Dream looks at him like he’s stupid. “You are still in your wet clothes.” He clarifies, emphasising each word even more than usual, his eyes glinting with mockery.
Hob swallows his mouthful of wine. “Yeah, well.”
“Your socks, at least.” Dream suggests. And Hob makes a show of rolling his eyes, putting his wineglass down, and slouching back to the door.
He bends to pull off his sodden socks, and they hit the floor with a wet and heavy splat. “Meugh,” his lip curls. His eyes slide back to Dream and he resists rolling them. “Happy?” He crows, arms wide.
“Are you?”
He wiggles his damp toes against the floorboards, head tilting to the side. “Better. At least.” He concedes.
“You ought to get out of your wet layers.”
“When did you become mother hen?” But by now Hob is struggling to keep up the fever pitch of his frustration, a smile starting to tug at his words.
“If you do not want my help…” Dream turns his back on him, picking up his wineglass.
“No! No. Of course I do.” He’s still playing along with the teasing, but it’s true. Always. And Dream knows it. He turns towards Hob again, a smug little smile hiding behind the rim of his glass. Hob holds his hands out to his sides, letting them fall back against his thighs. “Help me?”
Dream scoffs, but the smirk is still in place as he sets his glass down and walks over to Hob in the entryway. “How you survived centuries between our meetings I will never know,” he tuts, plucking at Hob’s unbuttoned overshirt, slipping it down off his shoulders, then free from each wrist.
“Made a deal with a lady.” Hob parries back, but it sounds distant even to him, far too hypnotised by watching Dream’s movements to commit to continuing their banter.
“Mm. Quite.” Dream draws the neck of Hob’s t-shirt between his thumb and forefinger and, assessing that it, too, is insufficiently dry, pulls it upwards. Hob is pliant, and increasingly calm in his grip.
Hob is shirtless for barely a second before there is a soft warmth sliding up his arms. Something that looks a little like a smoking jacket but feels more like a soft fleecy dressing gown has been conjured within Dream’s palm and his being fitted neatly across his shoulders. It feels like sinking into a warm bath. The warmth between sleep and wakefulness. The heavy-muscled heat of laying close to a fire for long night hours. And Hob can’t help the full-body contented sigh that comes out of him. He feels his shoulders relax down an entire inch. His head almost falls forward, eyes closed, ready to drop right off to sleep.
“Is that not better?”
“Mm,” Hob shuffles closer. “Better,” he agrees, curling his hands into the sweeping lapels of Dream’s coat and, allowing his eyes to finally close, drops his head against Dream’s shoulder.
“We are only half done.” Dream says after several seconds of silence and stillness from Hob.
Hob huffs against his neck. “You just wanna see me in my pants. Cheeky.”
“You’re impossible.” Hob can hear the smile in Dream’s words. Smiles in return, hidden against his neck, as Dream’s hands snake around his back and hold him in a warm, impossibly fond embrace. And Hob melts against him a little further.
“S’me. Impossible. Wearing a robe my love just conjured from the ether. Which is very normal.”
“I only wish for you to be comfortable.”
“I am, love,” he promises, voice soft, all fight and frustration drained from him. “So comfy. 'n I promise I’ll take off the trousers in a minute.” He sighs, deep and cleansing. “Can we just go to bed? I know it’s still early but fuck I’d love this day to be over.”
Dream’s hands press tighter against him, soothing up and down his back. “You will hear no complaints from me,” he murmurs against Hob’s temple, pressing a featherlight kiss into his hair.
#dreamling#dream of the endless#hob gadling#sandman#sandman fanfic#my fic#fluffbruary#why not. itll be february again eventually
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Kanna Natsu Idol Story - 1
Written by: Akira
Season: Spring
TL: verdantcrimson
(Unproofread)
[Two years since ES was established. In a corridor of an ES building leading to the Starpro office]
Kanna: Thank you very much for helping me, Miss Anzu.
Kanna: As you can see, I am a child, so escaping from a situation where I am surrounded by a crowd of people is difficult.
Kanna: Though, if I had used my head, I think I might have been able to escape, call for help, and have my pursuers apprehended.
Kanna: But using my brain on those people is a total hassle.
Kanna: A complete, and total, hassle.
Kanna: … Yes? No, I’m not lost.
Kanna: So you’re the type of person that judges people based on their appearance, right.
Kanna: No, I’m not criticizing you. Just categorizing.
Kanna: I find talking to other people to be a hassle.
Kanna: Ideally, I would like to be able to have a conversation by categorizing people as much as I can, and then only using a fixed set of phrases that correspond to that category.
Kanna: I want to have conversations using only a set of standardized phrases, like: “For sure”, “Maybe”, “That’s nice”, and the like.
Kanna: A computer could do that. It could handle things with just some numbers and a program.
Kanna: Why can’t the same method of operation work for humans?
Kanna: Ah, It’s okay. I wasn’t actually looking for an answer. It was just a question I asked myself, and presented.
Kanna: Please don’t worry. I will think for myself and find the answers to all of my questions.
Kanna: Yes. I have no expectations of you, or anyone else.
Kanna: Now, if you would excuse me. And really, thank you very much for helping me out just now.
Kanna: … Hm. Yes, what is it?
Kanna: Quite the annoyance you—
Kanna: Aren’t. Yes, yes, how can I help you?
Kanna: Yes. No, I’m affiliated with ES.
Kanna: I’m Kanna Natsu, and I’ve recently begun working as an idol here.
Kanna: Yes. People say that I’m like a stray cat that can’t quite get used to humans. It means I am ‘Natsu Kanna-ected’ with and don’t miss other people. Quite interesting, right?
Kanna: Would it be better if I had laughed? But that would be a hassle.
Kanna: I think my life would be much easier if I at least learned to smile politely, but that really is such a hassle.
Kanna: Yes. Ah, you know about me? I thought so too.
Kanna: I have long since concluded that I am like an exotic creature that has a tendency to make the headlines of newspapers and magazines.
Kanna: The people pursuing me earlier were magazine reporters that have been following me around recently.
Kanna: The entertainment industry is a world where you could throw a stone into the crowd and hit a genius, quite literally, so I didn’t see the need to bring it up.
Kanna: When humans see something behaving oddly, it’s surprising and interesting to them, it seems.
Kanna: That sort of sensibility, I envy it.
Kanna: Ah, I wasn’t being sarcastic. I honestly envy it. It’s quite tedious to have to add a note clarifying my intent at the end of each and every sentence.
Kanna: Hm. Eh? You’re asking me if I’m a celebrity…?
Kanna: So you only knew who I was because of me being a new idol, Miss Anzu? You remember seeing my name and face on the roster?
Kanna: I get it. Yes, you are that kind of person. I understand now.
Kanna: So. It seems I have overestimated my importance.
Kanna: That’s right. There are people who don’t know who I am. Heh.
Kanna: Ah, that was my first laugh in fifteen days. Tomorrow, my facial muscles are going to be sore.
Kanna: Thank you very much. I was able to have a rare experience.
Kanna: …Hm? Yes, anything else?
Kanna: I am an ES affiliated idol, so you should know that it isn’t out of the ordinary for me to be walking around here.
Kanna: Do you not understand this? It would be a hassle if you didn’t.
Kanna: Hm. So you thought that there might still be reporters remaining around the area? You thought to call for security, just in case?
Kanna: ……
Kanna: “A kind and gentle person”, “A respectable member of society”, “A very noble, goddess-like person”.
Kanna: Of these three, which do you prefer?
Kanna: I would like to present you with an evaluation. Because I appreciate your concern, and your words are commendable.
Kanna: However. I am inexperienced at communicating with people, so I don’t know which words would be most touching.
Kanna: That is why, I would like you to pick what words I should give you.
Kanna: That is all. ...Is that wrong of me to do?
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