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#like i get it he's stoic and seems like he would but hes NOT !! and i think thats beautiful and SO IMPORTANT !!!!
uzurakis · 10 hours
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can u do how jjk boys (include megumi PLEASE) would react to you getting all pretty and dolled up to go out (and u just look soooooooooo good)
TOO PRETTY TO BE TRUE!
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featuring: fushiguro megumi. gojo satoru. geto suguru. nanami kento. itadori yuuji.
n. your wish is my command nonnie, and ya don’t need to say megs cause i’ll ALWAYS include him in every shit that i write (he comes in one package okay) and.. I WENT OVERBOARD WRITING THIS HELPLEP i usually limit to 4 charas every post but yours made my creative space going and I HAD TO DO 5.. so thank you for that. i looooveee the idea mwah mwah i hope the writing makes justice for your cute hc <3
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FUSHIGURO MEGUMI. you were running late; a girl's usual problem before a date. your hands fumbled with the clasp of your earrings, and shit, you cursed softly under your breath. outside, you knew your boyfriend was waiting patiently, or so you hoped. the idea of keeping him waiting made you anxious, but you wanted everything to be perfect.
just as you finished adjusting your hair, you heard the front door creak open. fushiguro’s soft footsteps echoed through the hallway, and you felt a twinge of panic. he never liked to intrude, but his curiosity had gotten the best of him. "hey, what’s taking so long?" you heard him mutter.
you turned around just as he reached the doorway to your room. his eyes widened, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. fushiguro's usual stoic expression melted into one of pure surprise. his cheeks turned a delicate shade of pink, and his mouth opened slightly, but no words came out.
"is everything okay?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the sudden flutter in your chest.
megumi blinked, finally finding his voice. "a-ah, yeah, everything’s fine," his eyes remained locked on the ground while he stammered. how in the hell did this place get so hot? he thought to himself as he fiddled with his shirt collar.
"you look… um, really pretty."
"no, i mean, don't get me wrong though! you're al-"
you blushed at his earnestness, but you also smiled. "you too, gumi."
the guy scratched the back of his neck awkwardly but managed a small smile in return. "sorry i kinda barged in,” gently, he reached his hand to you and said, “next time, take all the time you need. i’ll wait.”
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GOJO SATORU. "well, well, look at you," someone called out, sauntering over with an exaggerated attitude. "you really went all out for our little date, huh?"
you couldn't help but smile as you rolled your eyes. "aand you didn't even bother to dress up," you teased back, gesturing to his usual attire. “so lame for the gojo satoru, boo-hoo.”
"why would i need to dress up when i have the most gorgeous person in the world right here?" the guy stepped closer, taking your hand and spinning you around playfully. "you look soo good, i kind of want to take you home right now. can’t have everyone else stealing glances at my date."
a giggle managed to escape your lips, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. "you're ridiculous, toru," shaking your head at him.
then he leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, one that could captivate a soul. "but seriously, you look amazing. i'm the luckiest guy here."
you swatted at his arm playfully, but your heart swelled from his words. "alright, mr. smooth talker, where are we going?"
gojo straightened up, still holding your hand. "anywhere you want, as long as i get to show you off. but maybe we’ll head home a bit early, just in case," and of course, he didn’t forget to wink.
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ITADORI YUUJI. a knock on your door sent a jolt of excitement through you. you had taken extra time to get ready for your date with itadori tonight in the hopes of surprising him. he was standing there with an enormous smile on his face as you opened the door.
“bless me!” his pink eyes widened with admiration. “you look beautiful as always, baby.”
your cheeks heated beneath his surprising compliment. "nah, baby, that’s too much."
his enthusiasm contagious, he practically bounced on his toes. “i’m serious! you’re soo pretty that i might die from your prettiness—is that an actual word—but look at me, i'm serious!”
as you stepped outside, itadori kept showering you with compliments. "that outfit is perfect on you. and your hair! you’re always cute, but.. you really shine tonight."
“you’re too sweet, yuu,”
"i mean it! you deserve to hear it every day baby!”
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NANAMI KENTO. you were putting the finishing touches on your makeup when you heard a firm knock at the door. taking a deep breath, you walked over and opened it to find nanami standing there, his usual composed demeanor softened by a warm smile.
his eyes swept over you, taking in every detail. "you look beautiful, sweetheart." he said simply, sincere and direct. the compliment made your heart skip a beat.
"thank you, kento," goddamn, a gentleman is always a gentleman.
he stepped closer, his gaze never leaving yours. "i appreciate the effort you put into this. it means a lot to me." his smile widened just a fraction, but the warmth in his eyes spoke more than his words could.
you smiled back, touched by his straightforwardness. "it’s because i’m excited to spend time with you."
nanami nodded, offering his hand. "shall we go?"
you sensed serenity and joy as soon as you held his hand. "i’m glad you liked it," you said softly as you both made your way down the street.
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GETO SUGURU. “fucking hell, you look so pretty,” he swore under his breath, emerald orbs wide as he took in your appearance. “too pretty to be true.”
“hmm, you think so, suguru?” a little teasing might not hurt, right? his usually calm and composed expression shifting to one of pure astonishment the moment he saw you. and there it is again, his usual up-to-no-good grin.
he stepped closer, his gaze intense and cocky with that smile of his. “oh, you’re mine,” he declared, voice firm yet filled with a protective tenderness. “definitely mine.”
your heart skipped a beat at his sudden possessiveness, yet you couldn't help but feel a rush of delight at his words. “i’m yours,” you confirmed softly, tippy toeing to peck his cheeks.
he pulled your waist gently into his hook, grip both protective and warm. “i just… i don’t want anyone else looking at you like this,” the words were murmured, his lips brushing against your hair. “you’re too beautiful.”
you leaned into him, feeling safe and cherished in his embrace. “i only want you to look at me like this, suguru.”
he smiled, a rare and genuine expression that lit up his face. “good. because i’m not letting you go.” he pulled back slightly to look into your eyes. “let’s go, princess."
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@uzurakis
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sickslimez · 4 hours
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STILL IN LOVE! #2 — TOJI FUSHIGURO
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SYNOPSIS...after still messing around with your ex husband, you began to wonder if you’re still in love with him after finding out about his new girlfriend…
INFO...ex husband!toji x fem!reader, reader & toji have two kids, megumi is readers bio son, jealousy, smut, angst, arguments, alcohol, drinking problem, family problems, arguing in front of kids, toxic behaviors, crying, mentions of divorce
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
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It’s been about three weeks since you found out about Toji’s new girlfriend. You still haven’t met her or properly seen her yet, but from what the kids tell you, she seems nice. It still felt weird having to get used to the idea that your ex had actually moved on. It was silly to think about, you know. Having been married over five years and getting a divorce, you’d think that means you would be done with your ex, but no, it was quite the opposite. Toji and you were still at each other, flirting, kissing, having sex. Neither of you had essentially ‘moved on’ from one another. It was normal for the both of you. It just never clicked in your mind that he would actually leave and live his life like a divorce is intended to do.
You’ll pin that blame on yourself, thinking too much into what you had with him is what caused you to feel this jealousy in the first place. Having remembered how you were once her spot, being the girlfriend that he took everywhere and did everything with. Hell, shes even met your kids before she’s even met you. It was clear Toji felt serious about her, otherwise he would’ve never brought her around Megumi and Naya. That thought made something twist in your chest.
“Mommy?” Your daughter’s little voice pulled you from your thoughts. Her big eyes watching as you applied your moisturizer in the bathroom mirror, a stuffie in her arms.
“Yes, baby?” You smiled, kneeling down so you were eye level with her.
“Daddy is at the door. He’s asking for you.” She blinked, squeezing the stuffed animal in her arms. Usually Toji just comes on in announced, startling you when he suddenly speaks, but you found it weird that he was now waiting at the door to speak to you. You grabbed your daughter’s hand, walking her to living room where Megumi was watching teen titans and eating popcorn. “Ooo, is that starfire?!” You daughter ran towards her brother, letting go of your hand.
Your eyes landed on Toji who leaning against the door way, dressed in a black hoodie and gray sweats, a stoic look on his face. “Hi, mama,” he greeted.
“Hey, what’s up?” You asked, folding your arms across your chest.
“Can I talk to you really quick? Outside?” He nodded his head in the direction behind him.
“Yeah.” You nodded, following his footsteps as you shut the front door behind you. “Something wrong?” You looked at him.
“I won’t be able to take the kids this weekend,” he sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Sorry.”
“What do you mean? Why?” Your brows furrowed, standing there confused.
“I got…things to do,” he meekly answered. He kept his answer as vague as possible leaving little to nothing for you to go off of, but deep down you had a feeling it had something to do with his new girlfriend.
“Things to do? Like what?” You questioned, poking the inside of your cheek with your tongue.
“Nothing important,” he quickly replied, sucking in a breath.
“If it’s not important then why can’t you take the kids? They’re not gonna be happy about this,” you try to explain. You couldn’t understand why he was being so secretive towards you all of sudden, especially when it came to his time with the children.
“Can you just accept the fact I can’t take them? Please?” He seemed to be getting impatient, rolling his eyes every time you questioned him on something. It was obviously bothering him.
“Does it have to do with your new girlfriend?” There was no harm in asking him, curiosity getting the better of you.
“That’s none of your business.” He tone was rough and stern, almost like you hit a nerve.
“Oh?” Your brows raised in surprise in his sudden change of attitude. “I think it is my business considering this involves your time with our children and the fact you bring her around our kids, Toji. It’s a simple yes or no question.”
He let out a scoff, averting his gaze in a different direction. A sigh left his lips as he ran his hands down his face. “Here you fucking go,” he groaned. “You’re getting jealous.”
“I’m sorry?” Your eyes narrowed as you stared at him.
“You’re getting jealous of her, aren’t you?” His question hung in the air for several seconds as you stared at him in disbelief.
“Here you go assuming shit like always. See this is why we can never have a normal conversation, cause you always wanna start something! Where the fuck did that even come from?” You were starting to see just why you and Toji got divorced. There was some truth to his words, about being jealous. Though, you were too stubborn to admit such a thing to someone like him. What good would it do you anyway? He’d probably just laugh in your face and walk off. “Have your weekend to yourself, Toji. I’ll find someone else to take care of Megumi and Naya.” You turn around to enter the house, not having the energy to argue with him.
“Woah, what do you mean someone else?” His hand is wrapped around your wrist as he pulls you back towards him. “Why can’t you?”
“Cause I have things planned! Pretty sure Shoko won’t mind watching them.” You snatch your wrist back from him, only for him to grab onto you again, pulling you back. “What, Toji?!” You ask in annoyance, sighing loudly.
“You got things planned? With who?” It almost made you laugh how he was the one asking so many questions, trying to peak in on your life.
“That’s none of your business,” you casually say as you stare him. His jaw clenches, finally letting go of your wrists. Both of you stared at each other for what seemed like several minutes when in actuality it was only a mere second. You had a date on Saturday night, someone you met while you were out shopping for groceries. He was handsome, and kind enough to ask you to a dinner, even offered to pay. It would be wrong if you said no because you wanted to say yes, so you did. His name was Kento Nanami. “Goodnight, Toji.” With those words, you walked back into the house and shut the door behind you, locking it.
“Mommy, what did daddy want?” You daughter asked, peaking up from behind the couch.
“I’ll tell you two tomorrow, just keep watching your show.” You smiled at the both of them, quickly rushing to your room to try shake off the funny feeling that you had. Why couldn’t he just be upfront with you? Tell you the truth? You wouldn’t mind if you he needed time to himself, but to come out and be secretive about it was a different story. Then, to start arguing with you simply reminded you of the times he and you fought over the stupidest things. Maybe you shouldn’t have gotten so defensive, but you couldn’t help it.
You tried not to dwell on the situation too much, instead thinking about the date you soon had. You got walked over to your closet, skimming through the hanging clothes in search of a perfect dress to wear. Something elegant yet sexy is what you were going for. You didn’t want to wear anything too over the top in fear of scaring him away, but you wanted something that also showed him you weren’t a prude.
Finally, you landed on your favorite black dress, the corners of your mouth forming into a smile as your eyes scanned over the piece of fabric. “Perfect.”
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000-pawz · 2 days
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how leehan loves ( zodiac series ) ˚ · .
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how i think leehan would navigate relationships/love/communication based on his natal chart/birth chart!
wc: 1k+
more under the cut!
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in short, leehan is an incredibly "patient, dependable, and secure" lover.
with his libra sun, i'd say he's a "starry-eyed" romantic; one of those people with that sparkly gaze of admiration when they have a crush on someone. he would definitely observe you from afar for a while and maybe even pine a bit, picking up on all the things you are interested in, your style, and just who you are as a person.
from there, i see a lot of courtship before asking you out. because his moon is in capricorn, he's not the type to fall quickly or rush into things. he is willing to put in the effort if he genuinely wants to build a solid relationship with his partner and he's not a fan of flings and fleeting emotions. he can be pretty nitpicky when it comes to relationships, so he tries to act wisely and thoughtfully.
leehan is very cute though!!! ^___^ although he may seem like a rock on the outside at times because of his cap moon, he sometimes finds it hard to make the first move. please show him that you truly like him by reciprocating his efforts to give him some confidence!
leehan is very dependable and punctual. he shows up early for dates, will come over as soon as you call, and keeps all of his promises. his virgo venus makes him a big lover of domestic things like doing the dishes together, routine kisses, brushing your teeth together and making silly faces at each other in the mirror, making your coffee just the way you like it <3
leehan is a big extrovert and would love to spend as much time with his partner as possible. and by "time", i mean meaningful, quality time where you can really sit and talk and get to know each other. he probably wouldn't be a fan of dates where there's too many people around. i recommend intimate dates like cooking together, a private pottery class, and maybe even renting out a karaoke room for just the two of you.
but beware that a big turn-off for him would be clinginess in the early stages of the relationship. he likes when things progress slowly so he can build that strong, intimate bond with his partner. when things move too fast, he gets incredibly uncomfortable and he moves on pretty quickly if he can't see a future with someone.
i see his ideal type as people who he can have emotional resonance with. with his sun and mars in libra, he likes balance. if he's closed off, he'd like someone who can help him open up. people who are gentle, carefree, kind-hearted, fun-loving, and just as romantic as him.
leehan's mercury is in scorpio, so he's not too affected by those petty, fleeting arguments. if he notices you’re stressed and taking it out on him, he’ll be so gentle and try to figure out what’s truly going on. he hates to be in the dark, so please tell him if something is bothering you because it will bother him if he doesn’t know what’s bothering you. he's highly observant and he observes in silence most of the time. expect to always have his eyes on you like an eagle; he's basically trying to read your mind ><
he may have some problems with jealousy because his venus squares pluto. leehan is all about being in it for the long-run and creating a stable and trusting relationship. it's not necessarily insecurity that riles him up, but the thought of someone trying to steal you away from him gets under his skin. when leehan is jealous, he can be very passive-aggressive and shut himself off from you. you may not even know why he's acting that way because he takes so long to open up.
if there is a serious conflict, leehan can become pretty detached and stoic. he definitely internalizes his feelings and stress, and he needs time alone when he's bombarded with too many emotions. he only shares his deepest, darkest feelings with those he trusts and is pretty reserved when it comes to dealing with his feelings.
leehan always reflects before he approaches you for communication. with his libra mars, he craves harmony and understanding. sometimes he can get a little too caught up in defending himself, though, because he doesn't want you to misunderstand. he's level-headed after he clears his thoughts and handles issues with long-term stability in mind rather than quick fixes. overall, he's pretty graceful at managing conflict. he can compromise without any pushback.
alternatively, leehan is the best person to share your secrets with. he'll take them to the grave, always. he's not inclined to gossip or lecture you. he'll simply listen and provide you comfort <3
he is always incredibly understanding of your feelings and never fails to take them into consideration. he'll take you to restaurants catering to your taste, even if he's not a fan. he'll give you his jacket if you forget yours and it starts to rain. he is just so selfless and patient with his partner. <3
his love languages are quality time and acts of service!!! he values meaningful time spent with his partner to form that deep connection, and likes to ease their burdens by helping them whenever he can. he has a tendency to put his partner before himself, and can even neglect his own needs sometimes. if you can, help him out by reminding him to have breakfast, helping him relax by having a cuddle session in between his heavy schedule, and being his rock to lower his guard around ><
ways to make leehan swoon? compare hand sizes ^___^ or trace the lines on his palm, kiss the back of his hand, lace your fingers together... anything involving his hands! also paying attention to his little quirks would make him fall for you even faster. like, oh, he likes this specific candy so pick some up on your way over! or mention something cute he did in his sleep. just noticing those small things about him will make him feel so special ^___^
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reblogs are greatly appreciated! lmk what u think or if you have any other takes!!! i'm always open to learning more :o thank u...<3
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after-witch · 1 day
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Hey beautiful, so I was rereading your fic Sufferance and I've been meaning to ask; is there a particular explanation behind the occasional unreadable expressions Chrollo makes within the story? There are a few moments during the beginning and near the end of the rape scene where he seems to 'potentially' feel some sort of way that's hard to grasp. I'd assumed these weren't elaborated on simply because Chrollo's canonically pretty difficult to read and Reader herself was already in a state of extreme stress, but I have to wonder: were you perhaps thinking of a specific kind of emotion that Chrollo was seemingly suppressing deep down?
There's a line for example, near the end of the fic where Reader seems to think Chrollo appears to feel guilty, only for him to state that he actually feels as though his raping of her was not his fault but entirely hers alone. Initially I took this at face value to mean that whilst Chrollo may have regretted their "first time" turning out the way it did, he didn't feel any legitimate guilt for having violated Reader in the first place. I still have to wonder though, if perhaps you were trying to indicate that Chrollo maybe did feel a sense of guilt in that brief moment, but perhaps avoided addressing it by immediately deflecting the blame onto Reader so his emotions and conscience could remain completely untainted by regret or doubt.
Then there's the other moment (more towards the beginning) where his expression fluctuates right after the line where Reader states he "can't do this" (before he removes her pants) and Reader herself makes note on the fact that it was impossible to read the look on his face due to both the breakneck pace and stress of the situation. Now, I know that as an author you might not want to reveal any emotions Chrollo could have potentially been feeling in order to maintain the mystery of what he was thinking in this fic, and if you'd rather leave it up to the viewer or would rather not say, I definitely get it and completely understand. However, I will not lie when I say I am itching to hear your opinion on the issue, and if you yourself had ever personally envisioned Chrollo to feel a certain type of way when writing those particular moments. Was he making those faces due to stirrings of guilt or regret? Were those expressions being formed from things like confusion (maybe at his lack of self control) or annoyance at Reader or himself? Was it some strange sense of pity or something akin to stoic condescending sorrow in the face of Reader's pathetic helplessness that made him make those subtle faces? If you're cool with offering any answers, I can tell you I'd be dying to know <3
Oh, 'non, this is such a thoughtful comment I would feel awful for not at least trying to explain or offering up some thoughts for you.
There's a line for example, near the end of the fic where Reader seems to think Chrollo appears to feel guilty, only for him to state that he actually feels as though his raping of her was not his fault but entirely hers alone. Initially I took this at face value to mean that whilst Chrollo may have regretted their "first time" turning out the way it did, he didn't feel any legitimate guilt for having violated Reader in the first place. I still have to wonder though, if perhaps you were trying to indicate that Chrollo maybe did feel a sense of guilt in that brief moment, but perhaps avoided addressing it by immediately deflecting the blame onto Reader so his emotions and conscience could remain completely untainted by regret or doubt.
I think Chrollo might have some regret that their first time was not the fantasy he'd probably gone over in his head, but not actual guilt. He would easily, in his mind, justify what he's done because he tried to be "good" about it for so long.
His regret would be that it impacts him, and how the experience went for him, and how your inevitable traumatized reaction to it will impact him. It's regret, yes, but it's a greedy regret.
But as far as guilt, no, not really. Reader might wish he did. Reader would probably even pick up on his regret and plaster a fantasy where he regrets doing it for non-selfish reasons, just to make it more tolerable. Pretending is easier, sometimes.
Then there's the other moment (more towards the beginning) where his expression fluctuates right after the line where Reader states he "can't do this" (before he removes her pants) and Reader herself makes note on the fact that it was impossible to read the look on his face due to both the breakneck pace and stress of the situation. ... Was he making those faces due to stirrings of guilt or regret? Were those expressions being formed from things like confusion (maybe at his lack of self control) or annoyance at Reader or himself? Was it some strange sense of pity or something akin to stoic condescending sorrow in the face of Reader's pathetic helplessness that made him make those subtle faces?
Perhaps confusion, but not in the sense that he's confused at himself--reader saying he "can't" means that they have fundamentally misunderstood him, and who he is, and what he can do to them or anyone else. And it's perhaps that misunderstanding which led to this situation in the first place, where reader felt like they could push and push and push and push him, and not have consequences.
A misunderstanding which leads him to remind the reader:
“I’m a thief, love. I can take whatever I want.”
And he does just that.
I hope that explanation makes sense! Thank you for the thoughtful comments, pinning this to my figurative fridge, it makes me kick my legs (but literally) when people talk about my writing and it's clear that you've put tons of thought into something. Like.. .ahhh it just feels nice, thank you again for this message!
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rosedere · 3 days
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Murder Mountain
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(Yandere Azul Ashengrotto x Afab Reader)
Modern AU
TW: Dark Content, Attempted Murder, Harassment, Non Con/Rape.
Part 1, Part 2 (You are here), Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6
Cross Posted on AO3.
Part 2 Summary:
Azul and you take a trip into the mountains; Little do you know Azul has his own agenda.
-
Can you take me to northern California
Where the grass is greener
Can you make me dissappear
Be my puppeteer
Don't you leave again
-
You really didn't expect to get this far
literally and figuratively.
Arriving at the gated estate full of pine trees and golden fences, on the tall menacing gate before you was a entry buzzer, roughly, you pressed the button, a ring resounding from the buzzer on the outside post was heard echoing around the woods.
You weren't expecting to immediately be let in, the dark metallic gates opening before you effortlessly.
Pausing you looked around cautiously; no way your boss just let you in.
But you couldnt back down now was what encouraged you to walk up the winding driveway leading past the numerous gardens and waterways connecting to a massive renaissance fountain in the center of the estate further back.
Keeping your eyes peeled for any witnesses it seemed his sprawling estate was deserted.
Only after a few more minutes of walking, you made it to the illustserous main house.
You knew him being a multi billionaire would entail a huge house, but not to the extent of having a house as big as a small town.
At the doorstep, you observed his three doorway poarch the doors were made of a see-through glass with frosted tint coating said doors. Being able to see the interior of his spiraling house with dark wooden floors and almost minimal walls but nothing more without walking up to the door to look in.
Taking note of the garage next to the doorway along with a ten foot tall ornamental tree, you notived the massive garage was open with a several expensive cars sitting there,ominously, lined up in order of price most likely.
Noting Azul was no where to be found you approached the door in the middle looking for, something, to announce your presence.
Finally you spotted a doorbell, quickly you went to where the smart doorbell was.
you had your finger extended but before you could ring he doorbell, a hand was firmly pressed onto your shoulder.
With a hard swallow, you retracted your hand.
Turning, you were met with your enemy.
Azul Ashengrotto.
"No need for that, I'm already ready to depart"
You only looked stoic at him.
"You said you'd be here 30 minutes ago," He replied in his usual business tone.
Azul was wearing an expensive camping long-sleeve shirt you'd seen at designer sports stores, almost as much as your rent was if you had to make a guess was what he wore on his body along with matching hiking khakis.
It almost seemed like he was dressed up for someone.
Other than that, he didn't look noticeably different from how you'd normally see him in the office.
Including his scowl that was practically oozing discomfort.
Focus (name).
"just traffic, the walk up from where I parked didnt help either," you shrugged hoping your answer would appease him.
Not like you cared for his response, though.
waiting for a snide remark about your outfit or about your flimsy excuse it was silent for way too long.
Looking over at your boss instead of seeing him disgusted you watched him look you up from head to toe.
"it seems you decided to dress more feminine today" azul smirked, "it looks good on you I can actually see your body more".
If only there wasnt so many cameras and possible witnesses out of sight...
Before you could stay angry however, he tossed you a black rectangular item, looking closer you realized it was a Electric car key.
Of course, he's rich enough to have a keyless car.
Azul walked off towards a car parked the furthest in the garage, looking in the back of the trunk you could see almost ten bags of god knows what stacked neatly in the deep truck.
Thank god he did; easier to hide your lucky bag.
You load your "bag" into his trunk with hesitancy, loading it into the back of the trunk so it won't be of note to him or anyone looking through the trunk if the worst case scenario occurs.
"Is that all you brought?" Azul abruptly says from behind you causing a flinch from you.
He probably only was watching to make sure you didnt steal his luggage.
"It didn't seem necessary to bring much," you murmured, closing the trunk you walked towards the drivers side.
You got inside as fast as you could to get in the car first and was about to put the key inside when you realized Azul was still outside.
He seemingly was looking through his luggage off course confirming your earlier suspicions.
Ignoring him, you looked for the start button eventually finding it next to the console.
Pressing the ignition button, a jolt of worry from this morning stung you.
Why was this going too well?
Does he know I'm going to get my long-desired revenge?
Maybe this is a set up he probably is going to lure me there and Jade and the police will be waiting to-
"Never driven a car like this before or what?" Azul mocked this from his side in the passenger seat as he started buckling himself in closing the door with a hard slam.
"It's automatic; all you do is press the screen twice, put your location in, and then you steer once every 30 minutes," he explained, idly combing his finger into his hair seemingly in his own little world.
You grabbed the steering wheel after you entered the directions to the campsite.
The mountain specifically.
"Now drive"
-
The first 2 hours of the drive, nothing eventful happened, which intensified your sense of dread that kept sticking to you.
You tried to preoccupy your mind with softball, Jade, and your boyfriend. Azul was lookingout the windows or would check his phone and fidget with it for moments at a time.
If you really focused on the winding roads that led the two of you deeper into the evergreen sea of trees, it almost felt like he wasn't there.
Until the beginning of hour 3.
You had been focusing on directing the bulky steering wheel getting it to turn on the windy passage up the mountain when you felt something weird.
Right.
Left.
Right.
Your hands around the steering wheel tightened.
Looking over pretending to fix the mirror was when you saw Azul.
Azul had been staring at you.
You looked again through your peripheral vision.
A pair of cerulean peered back towards you.
You had no idea what was behind his locked on stare, it was more annoying to you seeing him gawking at you if anything.
"You seem tired (name)"
Oh here it comes...
"Do you want me to drive?" Azul asked as he shifted his position from his seat.
He was now facing you directly with the same sickening look on his face to receive from someone who'd been cruel to you for so many years.
"Why do you ask Mr. Ashengrotto? We're almost there, but if you need to stretch, there's several rest stops and one gas station before we get to our destination," you gripped the steering wheel harder.
The mask is back on.
"Im merely suggesting so you can have enough..."
Suddenly his hands curled around your clothed thigh before vigorously kneading it.
"Energy for later," Azul smiled his gaze now looking up your side profile again.
"Thanks, but I'll be fine, Mr. Ashengrotto."
"Azul"
Azul then placed his hand onto your thigh giving it a gentle squeeze.
The discomfort was unbearable.
But you reassured yourself you had approximately 1 hour, 40 minutes, and 50 seconds to get ready for the next and last phase of your plan for revenge.
-
Out of the sea of evergreen trees you both found yourselfs surrounded by canyons and revines alongside occasional thick redwood trees and a few meadows scattered about.
10 feet to your destination.
A vast clearing overlooked a ravine, and behind the cute little wooden cabins lining the rough rocky road was a unmistakable towering mountain.
The oppressive nature it had was hauntingly beautiful; you had to admire it from all sides in your mind.
The familiar camping ground your company always had events at was finally right in front of you.
You awkwardly parked the car next to the first cabin reserved for Mostro Inc.
Furthest from all the cabins...
Turning the ignition off, Azul immediately got out and walked towards the cabin, stretching and eventually reaching for his phone to call someone you couldn't quite pick up.
Good. 
You watched him disappear, guessing Azul wanted to go to the cabin to see if it was to his taste.
Hastily, you popped the trunk and grabbed some of his bags, noticing most were arranged differently from before.
You knew he would scold you if he didnt have access to his bag for a few moments too long.
Grabbing the expensive hard case luggage two at a time you began to approach the open door.
Step
Step
Step
You entered the cabin to reveal it to be an ordinary cabin.
Definitely worn from the conditions it would face from various seasons, but it had a touched-up quality to it, with a very comfortingly decorated entrance way leading to a small kitchen and living room full of cute camping decorations reminiscent of a cozy fall cottage.
To the right was a presumed guest room, which only had a full-sized bed with a whole antique wardobe, a bedside lamp, and one small window. On the opposite side of the hallway was the actual master bedroom of sorts.
It had a queen-sized bed with a built-in closet and bathroom you were about to further inspect it when you unexpectedly caught him walking out of the bathroom.
With something in his hands, one hand had something that was reminscent of...
Personal lubricant the label read.
His other hand contained a few pills you didnt recognize.
Weird.
"Mr- I mean Azul. I have some bags here"
"I'm not sure if you want me to get the rest of your luggage or-"
You held up the luggage youd brought hoping you could dash away from whatever was happening in front of you.
"Of course" he briefly answered.
You rolled the luggage towards the door when Azul suddenly spoke.
"Actually, can you set those bags in the kitchen?"He pointed at the bags you had.
Y/N….
You thought you misheard him.
Flashing a smile you quickly walked away into the kitchen to set them by the wooden coffee table in the center of it.
You turned around to walk back out when your eye was caught on the two glasses set on the counter. It seemed as if whoever had stayed here last had left some items.
Immediately you realized what Azul was most likely doing, shaking your head in disgust at the thought of your boss using the cabins you all used as his personal getaway for his many women.
Trying to push the image of Azul having sex out of your mind you walked back outside, almost knocking yourself against the heavy lock that was on the door.
Rubbing the spot on your left side as you walked down the wooden steps to the car.
Step
Step
Step
Only about A few bags remain.
Cautiously walking inside, you didnt expect to see your boss in the kitchen. It seemed he didnt notice you enter or if he did didnt acknowledge you as you heard the sound of pouring fill the room.
The sounds of glasses and cutting was heard but grew distant as you continued into the master bedroom.
Placing the bags next to the bed you noticed he had left a box of chocolates next to the bed.
Most likely for him to eat by himself, you snickered before carrying on making sure to avoid the lock again, you carefully opened the door and noticed a slight hesitation on the door.
Weird.
Azul must be messing with it to make sure it locks. You couldn't blame him since, once again, he was the most expensive man in the world.
You grabbed the remaining bags.
Now is the time to act...
-
After carefully concealing your "bag,” you juggle it between the heavy luggage Azul had and prayed it was camouflaged enough, walking up the steps.
Step
Step
Step
Lock.
You leave the remaining bags in the master bedroom.
Only....
That feeling of extreme dread washes over you as you drop the last luggage onto the bed.
"Y/N, would you like a drink?”
Your eyes flicked to the glass he had in his hand; Cucumber water.
"I just wanted to turn a new leaf with you (name)"
Azul took a sip out of the glass in question.
"why dont we see this trip as a way to understand each other"
You still stared at him in disbelief.
Why now would he want to become friends or anything with you now?
"Sorry, I'm not really thirsty" you turned away from him picking your "bag" off the ground.
But before you could leave he blocked the doorway.
"Just a sip" he smiled.
You knew he wasnt asking anymore.
Gingerly you grabbed the glass before putting it to your lips, His eyes watching as you let yourself consume a little swig.
Weirdly enough, you were actually parched and the cucumber was refreshing. He did drink a little bit of it anyway so you knew he didnt do anything to poison you.
Azul was still standing before you waiting for you to take another sip of the liquid. Letting your lips touch the glass once more you drank eyeing him to see when he'd move.
Except he didnt move until you had downed the whole water.
"See that wasnt so bad (name)" he gingerly grabbed your glass before setting off towards the kitchen.
You rolled your eyes before taking the "bag" to the bedroom across. Leaving your bag ontop of the bed a wave of warmth wrapped around you.
The thrill of finally being able to inact your revenge was nearly through.
You unzipped the "bag" going through the motions of unzipping it.
Until you felt yourself suddenly lose control of your arms.
And then you passed out ontop of the bed next to your items.
-
You couldnt open your eyes but you could feel your bra being unclasped.
Someone was undressing you agonizingly slow.
You tried to move your hands only to feel them heavy. Not as if you were bound but you simply couldnt pick them up.
Using your strength you opened your eyes to see.
Azul.
And the now locked master bedroom before you.
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twopercentboy · 25 days
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I'm a firm believer that Edwin does NOT have internalized homophobia ☝️ repressed his sexuality? sure, obviously. but internalized hatred for himself? NO!!!
My man immediately confessed his love to Charles once he realized what his feelings were. He was going to even earlier but literally got dragged to Hell in the middle of it !!! He did not question the validity of his feelings and he definitely didn't question whether he was allowed to feel them !!!
Edwin has a lot of complexities when it comes to dealing with and acknowledging his emotions, but this is not one of them. Charles is not one of them.
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milkbreadtoast · 8 months
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This meme is ancient but I randomly saw it again and i needed to do it..... (not sure abt some of the charas but just wanted to fill up space dmfbn)
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winepresswrath · 1 year
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i want fic written to my exact specifications about minor ships in small fandoms where most of the content is presumably in another language. what am I supposed to do? write it myself?
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javaberrychip1998 · 1 year
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I think I just have to admit to myself that I don’t like Zelink and I don’t know why
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bi-demon-ium · 2 years
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ok but like both times nicholas has a major revelation for the others--first with his brother/the sender being his twin/etc, and then with the truth about how they got separated, we don’t actually see like. him. tell milligan? like the first time he isn’t there when they realize, bursts in halfway through, and is just sort of. There. in the background. for the rest of the scene. i get it wouldn’t necessarily be great to have him just repeat the whole thing right after the first time but like what is milligan thinking?????? how much did he hear?????? like??? what??? and then the second time he was straight-up not there, so it’s like. did he ever tell him later??? like not that he necessarily Has to but like. if he did. part of him scared that even if the others didn’t leave milligan will, but he doesn’t either? milligan just quietly putting a hand on his shoulder like it wasn’t your fault, and nicholas is thinking i did know better, i did, but that’s not what milligan says (yes i’m still mad about this) like just. I Would Like To See It. 
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noonaishere · 2 years
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So I didn’t think I would be making another post so soon (I’m actually supposed to be working right now, but I’m doing what the kids call “procrastinating”... mostly because I don’t want to work 😭) but I just noticed my follower count:
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🥳🥳🥳🥳🥳
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Not too shabby for a blog that I only made for this fic specifically - because you can’t post pictures on AO3 (or you can, but it’s super difficult? I’m confused by tutorials) - and only has one fic.
I promise you all that there will be more, I’m just so overloaded with work right now that I haven’t been able to finish the fic I’ve literally been working on since... *has to check notes because it’s been so long I’ve forgotten* ...April.
*sigh*
So we have about... two months? Three months until I can post the next fic. It’s maybe halfway done in the writing stage, but then I need to let it rest for a bit and then read it again so I can find all (or at least most) of the mistakes. Then I need to make all the texts (and that took like two straight weeks last time and a lot of carpal tunnel inflamation).
I can give a hint though, in case anyone is curious what might be in it, so I’ll just post the screencap I’ve been holding on to, that inspired it:
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(Thank you for the idea @luvvvx )
You’ve heard of One Set of Idiots, now try Two Sets of Idiots!
Also, it’s going to be an Ateez fic. (I’ll be changing the icon and theme of the blog when we get closer lol)
So again, I apologize that this is taking so long, I just have no time 😭
But it will happen.
#ateez#fic#ateez fic#cafe au#music industry au#smau#putting it in tags in case anyone is interested and wants to save this for later#you can tell it's going to happen because I refuse to give up on it lol#if it wasn't going to happen I would have given up MONTHS ago lol#But really: I want to finish it so I can get back to work on my original stuff#and I have so many things in various states of being done#We have: a fantasy epic with character driven plot that culminates in a battle; there's also alien-like demigods and political criticism!#We have: a BL story between a ghost hunter and a man who seems to be more than he is! emotional stuff! learning to love yourself!#We have: werewolves and other mythical beings! I hope this is a fresh take but idk yet lol#We have: lesbian scifi king arthur! The Wasteland! reality jumping! swords! lesbians (like I already said)! sci fi!#We have: a kpop manager turned killer! Intrigue! Crime! Covering up crimes! Soft kpop bf and stoic murderer gf! The internet!#We also have: a fanfic that I didn't finish that has so many ocs that I MIGHT AS WELL make it into an original thing. love! punk rock! etc!#I forgot I was working on so many things omg. this is what happens when you have to keep pushing everything towards the side#I'm also joining a DND group that will be streaming starting in January. Watch me play a somewhat haughty grave cleric who desires revenge!#or ''listen''? I'm not sure if we're using cameras. idk if I want to since I don't want to have to find a better background lolol#oh! I'm also going to make an etsy shop soon: I'll be selling screen printed patches (at least at first)#I designed a cool ateez one people might like and I figure I'd sell it to make some money off it since like... redbubble thieves exist 🙄#anyway I think that's all for rambling in the tags#as you were
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tojisprettywife · 3 months
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{note: yk the drill 😞 unedited, not proof read, i wrote this in a hurry. this particular scene was in head for so long. had to get it out. husband! toji yet again, i’m so down bad for him.}
warnings: ? zero. fluff. husband! toji, wife! reader.
« @enouche ,i hope you like it 😭»
no matter what others say, toji loves being babied. he, himself would deny this. he considers himself a stoic man. but this completely changes after meeting you.
one lazy afternoon, you and him are in bed, toji wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head on your chest. he grabs your wrist and places your hand on his head. you look at him, and take a minute to understand what he’s doing. he wants head scratches.you smile down at him and run your fingers through his hair, your nails scratching his scalp lightly. “mmmh” he hums softly, nuzzling further into your chest, a small smile on his face. around 5 minutes later, you tilt your head to see if he’s asleep. his eyes are closed and seems to be asleep already so you slowly remove your hand from his scalp. “tch” he clicks his tongue.his eyes brows knit, he grabs your wrist again, and places your hand on his head again. you giggle softly, kissing his forehead. again a small smile creeps up his lips . you suddenly feel so giddy and happy, you squeeze him tightly, peppering and showering him with kisses. he smiles widely, his eyes still shut, feeling your soft lips pressing against all over his face. “my baby” you whisper, wrapping your arms around him, patting and rubbing his back. he’d definitely want to say “i’m not a baby” but he chose to savor this moment. deep down he knows, he loves it all, way too much. he just wants to be loved.
(any sort of interaction is very much appreciated!!)
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gojoux · 6 months
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𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐘 𝐏𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊
Gojo. Geto. Sukuna. Nanami. Choso. Toji. Megumi. Itadori. Yuta. Inumaki.
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◈ — 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎
Gojo certainly would notice if there is something ‘odd’ and won’t hesitate to point it out, “Is that hickey? I don’t remember leaving it there though.” He squints his eyes behind his blindfold as if his Six Eyes is lying to him. Indeed, he will always remember every mark he left on you, so he does become suspicious. He’d mock the appearance of the hickey once he catches on and plays into your game, “That can’t be mine. It’s too faint, look at that,” and with a cheeky grin, he’ll give you an actual hickey, big and noticeable.
◈ — 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎
Geto is an attentive listener, he stays quiet and listens to you closely when you talk. When he notices the hickey, he stays silent and his expression doesn’t change. He decided it’s best to keep it to himself until you finish talking. “Is that hickey, love? I don’t remember leaving you any last night,” he’d ask, his tone somewhat passive-aggressive. He’d make a move by touching the spot with his thumb, smearing the made-up mark, and chuckle lightly afterward. “You’re naughty, sweetheart.”
◈ — 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀
Sukuna would notice right away when he sees you in sight. “What was that?” He’d ask with a raised brow with a commanding tone, he expected you to be honest with him. When you play dumb, he’d ask you again as he stands up from his seat, “I’m asking you. What is that.” He holds your nape, making you face him still. He’d analyze the mark properly before laughing shortly, “This looks so bad. Let me show you what a real hickey looks like.” He manages to fill your neck to your shoulder with his deep colored mark.
◈ — 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈
Nanami has a sharp eye, he’d notice right away. He looks at it in silence with his usual stoic, serious face before he speaks calmly to the point, “You have a hickey, love. Who gave it to you?” Honestly, he’s already used to your antics, and it doesn’t take long for him to figure out that the hickey doesn’t look like the usual ones he gave you. “If you want one, you should just ask me. No need to waste time and effort to make one yourself.” He knows, and he’s unbothered so he just flows along with it for you.
◈ — 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎
Choso would notice the hickey on your neck and the confusion would be written all over his face. He’ll double-check on your neck and at you, “There’s a mark... on your neck,” he looks at your skin. “Are you okay? Is it a bruise? Or is it from me?” He asks, genuinely curious and a bit concerned as he looks intently at the hickey with his eyebrows slightly furrowed. He doesn’t want to touch it for some reason. He’ll let out a small “Oh...” when you admit it to him after how long he’s been staring at it.
◈ — 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈
Toji would be as nonchalant as ever. He doesn’t notice it at first, but the more he stares at you, the more he keeps looking at the hickey with the way his gaze sharpens every second as if he's analyzing the whole mark placed on that particular spot of your body. “That’s a terrible hickey, by the way. Whoever gave it to you suck ass, 'cause that’s not mine for sure,” he snickers. “Let me give you a good one,” he murmurs as he pulls you closer by the nape.
◈ — 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈
Megumi doesn’t want to point it out at first, deciding to just leave it for now, but he can’t seem to take his eyes away from the mark and he can’t help but be curious. “Hey, there’s a hickey there,” he points with his eyes. He’d then ask, “From where did you get it?” because he wants to hear it directly from you since he doesn’t remember leaving one on you recently. He’d take the initiative to touch it himself where he realizes it’s only makeup, not realizing that he just let out a small sigh of relief.
◈ — 𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈
Itadori wouldn’t even notice it’s fake. He thinks it’s the one he left behind since he tends to give you small hickeys of affection after he kissed you. “Looks like you still have the hickey I gave you,” he grins widely when points it out. He’d even show you off his own hickeys that you left for him and end up rambling about it, “Did you know I have a few too? You gave me this one yesterday, and this one three days ago, oh, I really like this one, the color looks nice, you did a really good job on that, and this one—”
◈ — 𝐘𝐔𝐓𝐀
Yuta would be a bit shy since it’s exposed so others would know that he left that on you but at the same time he just realized that he was not around you for a few days. He taps your shoulder gently to talk, beating around the bush at first since he doesn’t want to assume you’d go behind his back, he just doesn’t know to address it to you without the fear of offending your feelings. Once you’re done enjoying his flustered reaction, you finally reveal that it’s just a prank, and he’d let out a big sigh of relief, “Oh, wow, that looks real! How did you do that? Can I give you a real one instead?”
◈ — 𝐈𝐍𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈
Inumaki glares at the hickey, looking at it and to your eyes in disapproval, waiting for you to take the hint that he doesn’t like what he’s seeing. When you say that the hickey is from him, he immediately shakes his head and crosses his arms to deny it. When he looks more closely, he becomes suspicious at the ‘oddness’ and rubs it with his finger just to make sure it’s what he thinks it is. When the makeup smears on his fingers, he’ll smile smugly and smear it on your cheek just to make fun of you.
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Looks like I need to warm up ☝️
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sttoru · 4 months
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·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒. love; you wonder if the king of curses is capable of feeling that emotion too. so, you take on a more direct approach to ask him.
word count. 1.7k
note. sukuna brainrot sorry. . .
tags. true form!sukuna x female reader. angst (+ comfort) / fluff. size difference mentions. eh sukuna’s a bit mean. established relationship, but you’re like v early into the relationship.
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it was a calm sunday evening. both sukuna and you had fulfilled your duties for the day. all you needed after working hard was the presence of the person you admire most. thus, you had made your way over to sukuna’s chambers. to your surprise, you already found him sitting on the engawa which led to the connected backyard.
sukuna noticed your presence, but didn't utter a word. he simply shot you a glance before continuing to stare into the distance. he seemed to be in deep thought about something. you didn’t want to bother him when he was like this, but the voice in your head told you to stay.
you silently kneel next to him and gather your hands in your lap. your eyes automatically move to focus on sukuna again. two of his hands are supporting his weight as they rest flat on the wooden surface. the other set rests limply on his thigh.
your gaze falls on his bottom left hand. the one he uses to kill, but also the one he uses to hold and caress you. you could easily recall its feel without having to touch him; rough, callused and warm. you reach your hand out towards his without hesitation.
sukuna’s eyes dart over to your small stature next to him. he allows you to grab his hand, to pull it over to your lap and let it rest palm up on your thighs. it’s almost funny. how big his hand is in comparison to yours.
the comfortable silence continues. the rustles of the leaves and the water movements in the koi pond in the yard are soothing to the soul. your finger traces the lines on sukuna’s palm, following them until they end before switching to the other.
the king of curses watches you play around with his hand. still with that stoic expression on his face. however, feeling your delicate touch on his skin and seeing you smile to yourself for whatever reason makes the corners of his lips curl up. for a split second.
a faint, amused grin. you sure are an interesting creature in his eyes.
“sukuna, can i ask you something?” you break the silence with a question. there is an unknown feeling in your chest; one that makes you restless at night. your smile slowly drops into a small pout when you think about what you want to ask him.
not a single action goes unnoticed by the man next to you. he lifts an eyebrow, but other than that, there’s no reaction visible. he answers you with a hum of approval, “mmh.”
you lift your head and look up at him. sukuna was already staring right at you—his piercing eyes catch your soft ones. he squints. there is something wrong with the way you are looking at him. normally, the smile you give him would reach your eyes. now it doesn’t.
that same smile completely disappears over time.
“do you.. are you..” you stammer. you don't know how to articulate your question. it’s probably dumb. to both you and him. sukuna watches you struggle to ask him whatever is on your mind. he firmly grabs your wrist and squeezes it. not too hard. he doesn't want to inflict any unneccesary pain.
sukuna sighs. a heavy sigh. one thing he dislikes is when you leave him in the dark. it isn’t the first time you did so during the past week. asking him if you could ask him a question and when he grants you the permission to, you back down or change topics.
it’s getting tiresome.
“spit it out.” sukuna grumbles. he pulls your body closer to his by your wrist, your arm stretched upwards with your hand hovering near the side of his face. his breath hits your wrist, causing goosebumps to form on your skin.
crimson orbs stare right into your soul. you gulp and feel your body warm up. when you try to avert your gaze, one of sukuna's free hands grabs you by the jaw and steers your head to face him. his thumb presses down on your chin. he’s not letting it go today. he needs answers.
before sukuna could add to his words, you breathe in sharply. like you’re ready to ask him what had been weighing on your mind ever since a couple days back. oh, stupid it sure is. you know. you’re probably making it too big of a deal. when it isn’t. not in the slightest.
your eyes water. you blink the tears away. you don’t want to embarrass yourself any further by sobbing. your bottom lip trembles as you finally muster up the courage;
“do you love me?”
there it goes. you try to squirm away from sukuna’s grasp after that. you feel flustered. embarrassed. you just want to crawl into a hole and rot.
sukuna does not tighten his grip on you. instead, he loosens them. your wrist slips from his hand. your chin no longer restricted by his fingers. he lets you go.
a painful sting in your heart. you secretly hoped that he’d resist. pull you closer maybe. you don’t know why you expected that. you learnt not to get your hopes up around him and yet you always wish for him to do something.
a silence falls between the two of you again. you act like you didn’t ask him anything. you try to ignore the way sukuna clenched his jaw. how he subtly clicked his tongue. how he let you shuffle away from him.
you clear your throat. with hesistance this time, you gently grab one of sukuna’s hands again. that he allows you. you appreciate that. at least it means he isn’t completely upset. you know sukuna does not allow just anyone to touch him so without permission.
you hold tightly onto his hand like it’s your last hope. his fingers don’t close around yours, though. you don’t mind.
“what a foolish question.” sukuna scoffs and looks the other way. his voice was hoarse. probably from not speaking for quite what time. you silently nod. an expected answer, at last.
you stay silent after that. it hurts. more than you want it to have hurt. maybe it was too early into your relationship to ask such a question. you got into it, knowing fully well how harsh the man next to you could be sometimes.
what you can’t deny is that soft spot sukuna has for you. you see it. uraume sees it. the maids see it. sukuna probably.. knows of it, but doesn’t speak on it. he does not speak up about his feelings much anyway.
but it’s visible in his actions. the king of curses allows you to say and do whatever you want around him. he makes sure his subordinates treat you well. he looks at you with a hint of softness hidden in those red eyes. when he touches you, it’s firm but gentle. like he desperately craves to touch you, though knows not to make that yearning accidentally hurt you in any way.
the latter is what you love most about his soft spot for you. sukuna handles you with utmost care. even uraume had told you that it surprises them greatly whenever they witness the way their master treats you in general.
especially at night. you can’t count the amount of times you quite literally melted into his arms. those four, beefy arms that know just how to make you feel protected. you never sleep in unease. you know that nothing could hurt you when you’re laying against his chest.
sukuna’s actions speak volumes. despite all of that, you wish he’d at least tell you with his words. how much you mean to him.
“my apologies.” you give up. for today, you’ll let him be. the slight irritation in his voice earlier nearly made you cry. he needs more time and you’ll give him that. you slowly detach your small hand from his big, warm one, “i won’t ask you that again.”
sukuna frowns and grumbles something under his breath. you think it’s still because of your previous question, yet his gaze tells a different story. he narrows his eyes as he glares down at his now empty hand. you connect the dots once you see the man take a glimpse at your hand on your lap.
your touch. the sudden abscence of your touch.
“i didn’t say you could do that.” sukuna murmurs. his tone low and maybe even upset to a certain degree. you blink a few times and freeze on spot. the king of curses starts to get grumpy the longer you fail to take the hint.
he kisses his teeth out of impatience. sukuna tightly gets ahold of your hand again and softly yanks it towards him. you squeal as your body stumbles closer to his.
sukuna holds eye contact with you as he brings your hand to his mouth. his tongue wets a spot on your palm—specifically the area that connects your thumb with your wrist. your lips part, your tummy doing flips from the sudden touch.
“don’t let go again,” he bares his teeth before slightly sinking them into the soft flesh. it isn’t a hard bite. more a nibble that leaves a faint mark. what you didn’t expect was for sukuna to kiss that same place after marking it. his thumb runs over that exact spot as well, “got that?”
you nod. you’re unable to refuse him. those feelings of disappointment from earlier long forgotten. you intertwine your fingers with sukuna’s and unlike the previous instant, his fingers do curl back around yours. your skin is still tingling from the feeling of sukuna’s kiss.
the king of curses keeps your entwined hands on his lap this time. he stares off into the distance for a couple seconds before returning his gaze to you. he scans your face and finds what he had been missing;
that tender smile of yours. it was back, tugging at your lips. one of your fingers resumes its soothing motion on his rough skin again. sukuna’s face relaxes. his jaw unclenches.
“good.” sukuna nods at the sight. he turns to watch the night sky again—secretly (yet not so secretly) enjoying this moment of peace.
you’re content with how that ended. and, you’re sure that you don’t mind if it takes days, weeks or even months for your relationship to fully blossom. when you’re with sukuna, one thing is clear: actions do speak louder than words.
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barbieaemond · 5 months
Text
Lykirī
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PAIRING: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader
WARNINGS: loss of virginity, fingering, oral sex (f and m receiving), handjob, we ride him bitches, dom/sub tones if you squint
WORD COUNT: 8.9k
Author's note: an early Christmas gift for those who celebrate!! For those who don't, just a regular smutty piece. This was based on a request where wife!reader rides Aemond. Merry Aemondmas :)
MASTERLIST
taglist: @zae5 @multyfangirl @arcielee
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"You are to marry the King's second son. Prince Aemond Targaryen."
Those were your father's words. Your sister had looked at you almost with pity and a hint of relief since that fate had befallen you and not her. You had simply nodded, accepting the fate decided by your father, just as thousands of other daughters before and after you would have done.
Your mother had come to comb your hair before going to bed, and without much ado, she had told you what would happen after the wedding, after the banquet.
"All you have to do is try to relax your nerves, and I promise it will be less painful.”
The thought had stuck in your brain until the wedding day. And the aura emanating from the prince didn't help. He was stoic to the point of looking like a statue, his posture rigid as a spindle, and there was something unsettling about him that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand when he took your hand to recite the wedding vows. Fear, but also a foreign giddiness prickling your skin upon feeling his calloused fingers around yours.
The banquet had not helped either. Prince Aegon had behaved like a court jester, drinking to the point of wondering how he could stand upright, poking his brother with cruel jokes about his eye and a whore who had made Aemond a man many years before.
You didn’t know what kind of unpleasant memories your good-brother had just summoned in his brother’s mind. That woman and her cheap perfume, that way it had clung to his skin, to his thoughts for days after his only ever trip to Flea Bottom.
Then the elder Prince had approached you with his breath stinking of Dornish and it was then that Prince Aemond broke his icy silence, standing up abruptly and looking down at you. "Come, wife. It is time for us to retire."
Prince Aegon had clapped his hands as if in front of a hilarious show, saying "Finally some fun! The bedding!"
The entire crowd present at the banquet had escorted you to the prince's chambers. The servants had removed your dress, leaving you in your underskirts; you had unconsciously covered your chest, crossing your arms to hide from the greedy eyes of the men peering in the doorway, Prince Aegon in the front row with yet another cup of wine clutched between his fingers.
Master Mellos invited you to lie down on the bed, and you obeyed, swallowing, while a host of servants shielded you from view as the Maester made his humiliating inspection.
"All is in order, your Graces," the Master informed the Prince and Queen. And that was enough for Aemond to completely slip the iron mask off his face and go straight to the door. "The show is over. Get out."
"Oh, come on, little brother. Let me watch, at least. I could give you some tips."
Aemond had towered over his brother, and from your seat on the bed, you were able to see the eldest brother shrinking by the moment. "This is not some common whore you're speaking of.” Aemond seethed “She is my wife, and you will owe her the respect she deserves. One more lewd word from your mouth, and I will rip your tongue with my bare hands. Am I being clear?”
"Gods, brother, are you already so cunt-struck?"
He never got an answer, only the door being slammed right into his face.
You stood in the middle of the room, torturing your hands as he looked at you from the door. He seemed unsure of what to do, until he cleared his throat and took a few tentative steps in the room.
“You could have some wine, if you wish. It may…help you.” He said, but as he said this, he seemed to regret his own words, given how his mouth twitched as if he had just tasted something sour. Memories could come just like that, sudden and sour.
“You must relax, my prince. Have some wine, maybe? No need to worry, I will take care of you just as a prince deserves to.”
“I’d like to keep my mind clear, my Prince.” You said, keeping your gaze down, hearing his fast and deep sigh. “Fine.” he said, straightening his back as a soldier. After all, wasn’t this just another duty?
It wasn’t just that though. You were his wife now, the future mother of his children. It was his duty and his right to claim you as his own.
“Lay on the bed.”
With your heart pounding in your ears, you did as you were told but when the mattress dipped under his weight, you did not expect to see him with his clothes still on, the eyepatch firmly in its place. More so, you did not expect the harshness of his gestures as he held your waist to turn you around. The air hitched in your throat as your face met the mattress and a strange sorrow gripped your heart. Did he not want to look at you? Did he not like you?
“Try to stay still and it’ll be over shortly.” he said. He was trying to sound reassuring, but his voice came out cold and flat. His fingers latched on your underskirts, hiking them up, filling you with embarrassment as you grow completely exposed beneath him.
Aemond knew what to do. He may not have been as depraved as his brother, but he was still a man. And once in a while, when his hands would not suffice, some maid or servant girl would’ve had to bear, quite keenly on their part, his intimate attentions.
As his hands began to glide on your thighs, you shivered and said “Wait…”
Slowly your head turned to look at him, cheeks red and breath slow and anxious. “Am I not allowed to look at you?”
Your words seemed to stun him for a moment. The mere thought of you wanting to look at him made him realize how wrong he was behaving. You were his wife, not a common whore to bend over and have his moment of bliss. He had even told Aegon. That was not his intention, but there was a gap between how he felt and how he acted, a limb severed by years of pity looks and feelings trapped in his mouth and swallowed.
Almost gently, he made you turn but once you were facing him, he pinned your wrists on the mattress, unable to touch him even if you had gathered enough courage to do it. You tried to brace yourself for what your mother had told you. But she had not told you that he would touch you there, that all your senses would go numb except for that one brand new feeling between your legs. But he seemed enthralled by it just as you, his mouth parting to let out slow puffs of air as you grow wet and swollen against his fingers.
Your breath was labored, coming out in soft pants that made your cheeks purple. More so because he kept circling his deft fingers on your core while looking straight into your eyes, reveling in the way you were answering to his call, in the way he was shaping your need, your desire.
“You never touched yourself, did you?” he asked in a husky voice.
You barely shook your head and his eye glinted with something dark as he brought his face close to yours “Good. I shall be the only one inside you.”
He swallowed your shaky breath with this mouth, kissing you for the very first time, apart from the shy, almost prude peck exchanged after the wedding vows. Your lips moved shyly, trembling with the coiling pressure between your legs. And just when you thought this heat, this delicious aching couldn’t grow more unbearable, he sticked a finger inside you, spilling a loud moan right against his mouth.
One of your wrists twisted in his harsh hold, willing to touch him, to grip on something, but he didn’t let you. “Easy…” he blew on your lips “Relax. It’ll feel good, I promise…”
It surely felt good to him, to feel the tightness of your cunt squeezing his finger. He curled it and you squinted your eyes, choking a gasp that made him smirk proudly against your jaw. “Gods, you’re so tight…” he breathed as he kept rubbing slowly against your walls.
“It’s—it’s too much—“ you cried out with pain and pleasure running together, breathing his scent of ash, leather and a hint of something minty.
“How will you take my cock if you can’t even take my finger?” He whispered with benevolent cruelty, moving his finger faster and deeper.
Certainly your mother had not told you of the obscene wet sounds you would hear, of the uncontrollable moans coming out of your mouth, of his soft growling next to your ear when his breeches became too tight.
He had lined the tip of his hard manhood to your entrance, catching your breath away as tried to still your nerves, but the pain came altogether. You felt like he was cutting you from the inside. Tears filled your eyes, squinting for the painful stretching. You knew he was restraining himself; he didn’t want to hurt you more than he already was. And you almost felt affection for him, most men would not have bothered.
Then he had started to move, you felt that stranger body rubbing over and over against your walls, and finally the pain soothed, but not completely. You could tell he was enjoying it, his ragged breath and faint moans told you so, as well as the curses hissed through his teeth in a language you guessed was Valyrian. And then he had stilled completely, gripping your hips hard and firm while you felt a hot wave pulsing through your core.
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The next morning, you could barely sit down for breakfast, and your aunt had looked at you with concern and a hint of amusement in her eyes. She was a veteran at court, a long-time widow, and quite happy to be so. It was her who suggested your betrothal to the Prince.
"How are you feeling, sweet niece?"
"Awful." you said promptly, shifting your weight on the seat.
"Well, this is the kind of anguish all women must go through."
"I thought that was giving birth to another human being."
"Oh Gods, no. That is the ugly part. This is the good one," she said with a sly smile "I suggest you enjoy it as much as you can."
At the time, you didn't really understand what she meant. The first night with the prince had gone...well, you thought. But he certainly enjoyed it more than you.
The second time was better. Your muscles were still sore, but the pain was but a faint discomfort compared to the pleasure you felt for the very first time in your life.
The third time he went down on you, bringing you so close to the edge only to deny your release, with cruel enjoyment on his part, making you whine with shame at the loss of his mouth and tongue on your folds.
The fourth time he bent you down on the breakfast table, all things falling in a mess of cutlery. He had pulled up your skirts and lowered his breeches just enough to thrust in, unraveling a special spot deep inside of you that had you mewling like some primitive beast.
The fifth time he had you writhing in bed, hair stuck to your head with sweat and hands clenching the sheets while he had you peak three times in a row.
It was then that you started to think your aunt was right.
That was indeed the good part.
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“Are you afraid?” he asks, with a soft taunt on the tip of his tongue. You drag your eyes away from the gigantic beast before you and almost scoff. That is enough for him to laugh, quietly, but still not quietly enough for you to not notice and wonder at the view.
It’s been merely one moon since you’ve been married to Prince Aemond, and you could count on the fingers of your hand the times you have seen him laugh. It was eerie at first, you feared all the things you heard about the One Eyed Prince were true. That he was cold as stone and just as hard. And he was. But the more you spent time together, the more you were able to make cracks, and let light through.
“I’m equally afraid as any little mortal of right mind would be in front of the largest dragon in the known world, my dear husband.”
His lips stay quirked up, but his eye widens, as it always does when you call him that. He steps close to you, a few of his long strides are enough for him to tower over you, and the ground below your feet shifts.
“Come.” He says, taking your hand, “I promise she won’t eat you.” This time you deliberately glare at him, and he raises an eyebrow. “Do you need some other kind of persuasion to trust me? Perhaps like the one I used this morning?”
The early afternoon sun makes his face almost hurting to watch, or maybe it's just his bold gloating that makes his appearance so exhausting.
“That was not persuasion.” you remark, hiding the tinge of red on your cheeks “It was coercion.”
“Hmm. You didn’t seem so hostile when I made you come twice before breakfast.”
"I was hostile to the chance of the maid assisting with what we were doing."
"The maid should know better than to enter while my wife is undressing."
His eye roams over you just as he had done that morning, hunger clouding it, making your insides shrink. "Perhaps it's best if she knew. Someone must be aware of how cruel my husband is." there's a soft tease in your tone—something you are still learning, but true nonetheless.
He had ripped your nightgown with his bare hands when the maid entered to help you dress. She fled hastily, but you barely spared a glance at her, already lost to the fierce claim of his hand between your legs. He had taken you, twice, and then ordered you to dress, forcing you to have breakfast with the Queen and the Princess with your thighs still sticky with sex, sticky with him.
And he had been there, sitting just in front of you, with a piercing and delighted gaze.
He pulls your hand, and you follow, getting closer to that living relic that is Vhagar, Queen of All Dragons. She raises her monstrous head and looks straight at you with her amber eyes.
It is the first time you step so close to her, and even if you thought about it a lot, your heart is pounding fast, and your breath comes out slow and labored. She's a dreadful wonder.
She flares her nostrils and smells you, making a low rumble which results in a gust of hot wind that ruffles your hair and skirts.
“Lykirī, Vhagar.” Aemond says quietly “Issa ñuha ābrazȳrys. Kostā pāsagon zirȳla.”
You look at him questioningly, and he answers. “I told her you are my wife. And she can trust you.”
You cast a curious look at the dragon and then back at him “Is that all it takes? You tell dragons to trust you, and they resist the urge to turn you into their meal?”
Aemond curves his lips and makes you step closer, standing behind you and guiding your hand on the old green scales. “It takes much more than that.” he whispers in your ear “You have to surrender to them, completely. A dragon is no slave.”
You feel the heat beneath your palm, but it’s not that that makes you swallow; it’s the heat of his breath on your neck, right into your ear, scorching his way into your brain and inflaming every thought.
“What does Lykirī mean?” you ask, and you hate how your voice cracks on the edges.
He smirks because he knows, he always does. But he does not answer. Instead, he pulls your hand again, and you follow, circling the beast until stopping before the intricate ropes that lead to the saddle.
“Aemond, I don’t think—”
“You are my wife and you will ride with me on dragon back.” He said, commanding.
Truthfully, you gladly want to obey; there is just a slight difference between picturing riding a dragon and doing it.
Even the climbing to get in the saddle is a challenge on its own, but he helps you until you firmly seat yourself in it. Aemond sits behind you, and you look around with widened eyes, as if you are looking down from the highest tower ever built, except this is a living one, made of fire and breathing fire.
He leans over you to grab the reins, and you tense, waiting with bathed breath.
“Dohaeras, Vhagar. Soves!”
She lets out a loud screech that makes your ears hurt, but you have no time to even register it because she's already moving. You grip Aemond’s arms and brace yourself against his chest when Vhagar lurches onward and opens her huge wings to take flight.
She goes up and up, above the clouds, and your head is dizzy, with fear, with euphoria, until you are laughing like a child, like you never did in your entire life. Aemond lets go of the reins and laces his arms around you, angling his head to look at you, his silver hair violently ruffled by the wind. “How does it feel, my sweet wife?”
There are no common words to describe it. Now you know why they say Targaryens are closer to Gods than men. No man could claim a dragon or rule the skies.
“I feel like I’m close to the Gods.” you say, and he tightens the hold on you “Dragons do not answer to Gods.” he says, burying his nose in your hair “Where does this leave us?”
You turn your head to look at him, and you feel like you are looking at one of them. And yet he looks like he’s beyond any God.
“Above them. Above the Gods.”
“Hmm.” He croons, breathing your scent through his nose, and then his right hand grabs your skirt and dips underneath, until you feel his cold fingers grazing your skin. “I will make you feel like one.”
He cups your core through your small clothes, and you whimper, gripping his arm harder. He feels your heat through his palm, hotter than Vhagar’s own fire, and he sets the fabric aside to properly touch you. “My sweet wife.” he whispers, sliding a finger between your folds “Always so ready for me.”
“Aemond.” You say, holding your breath, trying to oppose but your voice cracks, and your body with it, already answering to his call. You see clouds before your eyes, but it’s all a blur, all your senses are enslaved by his touch, rubbing lazy circles on your bud. Too slow for your liking, for your need. Your hips arch and buck, chasing his hand for more friction, and he laughs, darkly. “What is it? What do you need, sweet girl? Tell me.”
He takes your chin with his free hand and forces you to turn your head and look at him. His hold is ruthless, but his tone is almost pleading. “Tell me.” he orders and you feel like he’s smothering you, sweeping away all the air from your lungs. “I-I need more…”
“More of what?” he asks, stopping altogether. “Show me.”
You look him in the eye and swallow, heat inflaming your cheeks, but there’s no place for shame, not here. It is just a faint ghost passing through you, and then it’s gone. Your hand pulls the gown up, and you place it on his, like a feather. “Here.” You breathe on his mouth “Inside.”
The howling wind does nothing to muffle his growl, and then he’s kissing you, harshly, teeth clashing and biting your lips as he accepts your plea, sliding a finger inside of you.
A strangled moan escapes you, and he swallows it, darting his tongue in every corner of your mouth. He releases your chin only to grab your leg to further open them and then he adds a second finger, moving them deftly until reaching that special spot. Your head falls back on his shoulder, gasping loudly, digging your nails into his hand.
Your breath is ragged and fast, and you uselessly try to stifle moan after moan even if there are only the skies to hear.
“Don’t.” he says grazing your lobe with his teeth “I want to hear you. I want you to scream for me.”
Your mind goes blank, as does all your restraint. You feel the tide coming to crash you, hips moving on their own accord, chasing and chasing. And then you’re drowning in it, mouth falling open and flesh and bones clenching and trembling.
He grunts softly when your nails scratch his skin and his fingers slip out, glistening; he raises them to his lips and tastes every drop of you. Still panting, he takes your chin once more with his sticky fingers and licks your lips, so you taste yourself on his tongue.
Your head is still dizzy when Vhagar lands in a clearing in the King’s Wood, but this has nothing to do with altitude. Your limbs are heavy when he helps you dismount, your legs buckle. There is a tautness knotting your bones, itching your fingertips.
You wish to touch him, because you have never, not as a wife would touch her husband, not as he has done with you.
It is only a moon and yet he has taken you almost every night and every day. He has touched you everywhere, he has molded you to his liking, and you let him do it with giddiness, undoing yourself like clay in his hands. He had put his mouth on you, and you have discovered he particularly enjoyed it, because he has done that at the most inopportune times, even in some dark corner of the corridors.
And you wondered if you could do the same with him—not because you have to, but because you want to. You want to claim him just as he claims you, relentlessly.
And he really is. He is relentless, he doesn't give you the time to wander with your hands, to discover, to touch. Fire burns him quickly and you are ashes before you realise you are burning with him.
“I didn’t know my wife had claws.” He says at one point, while you are going back to the Keep.
You wake from your thoughts and turn, watching him raise his hand to show the red marks on the back of his hand, and the sight makes you almost proud—proud to have left a mark of you on him. But you want more, and he wants more. You know it; it takes a brief look at his breeches to know that he wants more.
You dart your eyes around, but there's no one. So, you stop. Trying to gather all the boldness you never had, you step closer to him and take his hand in yours. Your eyes look up slowly, glinting with uncertainty and bravery. "Then let me soothe your pain, husband."
Aemond’s eye widens, and the air around you turn heavy, forcing you to open your mouth to breathe. You take one more step and bring the back of his hand to your lips, kissing it gently while your eyes stay fixed on his face. The other hand goes tentatively to his chest and then slides down, and for once, just once, he’s the one answering your call. His eye darkens and his lips part when your hands bashfully grab the laces of his breeches.
But you should have known better. Targaryens and their desires. Doomed to take whatever they want, whenever they want, answering neither Gods nor men.
You barely blink and he grabs you by the wrists and forces you to the ground. Cold grass and bushes stinging your back make you gasp, but Aemond is already on you, watching you like a century-long thirsted man who takes a glimpse of a water spring, as if you could evaporate from his sight at any moment.
“Aemond, please.” you beg “let me—“
But his tongue is in your mouth, hot and scorching you alive. Your eyes flutter shut, and he hikes your skirts up, taking hold of your hips. You feel his bulge against you, hard and ready, and you can do nothing else than wait, pinned down like prey, all bravery a distant memory.
Suddenly he lowers himself down, lifting your skirts with haste until you’re completely bare half down. “No—Aemond, please I want to—”
“You want what?” he asks with a wolfish grin “Deny me your sweet taste? Iksā ñuhon, ābrazȳrys.” He said that already, you know what it means. You are mine.
“You belong to me. And this…” he swears placing your legs on his shoulders while looking at your aching core as a man who found the greatest treasure in the world. “This belongs to me as well.”
He runs his tongue up and down your wet folds, humming with delight as he tastes you and sees you squirm, arching your back on the stingy bushes. You moan loudly when he slowly swirls his tongue, not able to keep track of your hips starting  to move on their own, thrusting into his mouth and the sight of you like this, makes him even wilder, pushing him to open his mouth and put it entirely on your cunt, sucking harshly until anything before your eyes becomes blurred.
Your legs on his shoulders begin to shake and curl, caging him further against you, but just when you are about to come straight into his mouth, he pulls back. A weak sob leaves your mouth as your hips keep bucking against nothing and he smirks at that, untangling your legs from his shoulders, running his tongue over his lips, to taste what's left of you on him. You look at him through dazed eyes and a tinge of annoyance for the denied release. “What?” he has the boldness to ask with a sly smirk “Did you not enjoy it?” he runs his thumb on his glistening chin and swiftly licks it. "Hmm. I most certainly did."
“Aemond, please.” you claw desperately at his shoulders and forearms, forcing him to lie on you, feel something that could soothe the aching between your legs. He seems keen to grant you this mercy, molding his crotch against you so you can feel how hard and desperate he is.
“Please.” you beg in a thin voice.
“Speak it plainly, my love. I want to hear it from your pretty mouth.”
You look at him straight in the eye and what you say next is not a request nor a plea. Your mother would be ashamed of you, but you can’t bring yourself to care.
You are not begging. You are demanding. “Fuck me.”
He doesn’t need more than a few moments to get his cock out of his breeches, and not a moment later he’s pushing inside of you, your back arching on the bushes and your throat fighting for breath. He groans and starts a relentless pace, lifting his weight from you just enough for him to look at his cock going in and out, the sight only pushing him to thrust harder and harder. “Look at you.” he croons, sweet and rough “You were born to take me, to be mine.”
Your face twists with pleasure, teeth biting your lower lip while he takes you higher and higher, higher than any sky a dragon could ever take you.
He soon becomes messy and sloppy, cursing under his breath, but you can barely hear him. Your mind is sluggish and everything comes muffled: him, the birds chirping on some tree, your wet flesh slapping against his in the lewdest and most blessed way.
He curses some more, and then he’s spilling inside you, his arched mouth opening and his eye closing like a man absolved.
And yet, he does not stop. He has not claimed enough.
“Māzis, dōna ābrazȳrys. Come for me.”
Your hand clutches something on the ground, something with thorns that pierces your skin with pain, but you can’t even feel that, because you are falling, legs trembling around him, and heart stopping for an endless moment of pure breathtaking bliss.
“Gevie.” he coos with his lips on yours, falling with his body on you, still clenching and pulsing around him. He stays right where he is, nesting inside of you, and now it is the only chance you have been granted to touch him. You put an arm around his shoulders, catching your breath, and look at the skies above, thinking you are indeed above them.
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It was easy to explain the dirt and grass stains on your dress. It was a little less easy to explain the twigs in your ruffled hair when you and Aemond returned to the Keep only to meet the Queen Mother along one of the corridors. Alicent merely smiled at you with a tight smile and did not spare from giving a look full of daggers to her son.
"Seven Hells" you mutter when you go back to your rooms and catch a glimpse of the mess you are in the mirror.
Aemond stays on the threshold to close the door and grins, or rather, gloats.
You step out of your muddy shoes and start to pull the laces of your dress.
"What are you doing?" he asks, and you playfully glare at him. "Am I allowed to take a bath now? Or do you want me to go around all sullied? I fear there are no believable excuses for the state I’m in."
"You can tell them the truth." he says, walking to you and replacing your hands with his to help you pull the intricate laces.
You smile softly with your back turned before raising an eyebrow, asking "Which is?"
He keeps his eye focused on the dress, a slight furrow in his brow, and stoically serious, he says "That your husband fucked you in the King's Wood."
"I could tell the maid. I'm sure she won't be stunned after what she saw this morning."
He makes you turn so you can look at him, and the sight before you makes your heart sing. His eye roams on your face softly, a rare sight on him, always stoic, always sharp, like all the angles composing this beautiful sculpture of black glass.
You always thought of marriage as a strategic deal for men, and a way for women to prove their value to the world, giving those same men sons and daughters. But you care for him. And he cares for you. That look on his face is enough for you to know that he cares for you, not merely as a brood mare.
“Gevie.” he says, quietly, and he touches your cheek, softly, making you wonder how those same hands can be so delicate and yet so merciless at the same time.
“What does it mean?” you ask, even if you are sure he will not answer. You observed that when he speaks in High Valyrian he does it almost to himself, as if to protect something he does not wish the others to know.
But this time, he meets your eyes and lowers his hand. “Beautiful.”
You look at him with your heart pounding in your throat, and then you stand up on your toes, crashing your mouth against his, almost catching him by surprise. But he is all too deft at turning the game on his side, and a few seconds later, his hands are gripping your hips and his tongue is licking the roof of your mouth.
When the door suddenly opens, you pull back, spotting the same maid from that morning who, this time, can do nothing but suffer the Prince's wrath.
"Can't you just fuck off for once?!"
You hold back a laugh against his chest and the poor maid flees in a hurry. But when he pulls you to him, tilting his head to pick up where he left off, you step back and say, "I'm afraid the Queen has requested your presence. You should go, my dear husband. I promise that by tonight I will be completely clean."
"Tonight?" he asks, raising his eyebrow. "What is happening tonight?"
You shrug your shoulders and hold back a smile. "Innocence doesn't suit you, my Prince."
"Neither does you."
"I'm afraid this is your fault. You are sullying my soul as well as...everything else."
"You won't be of the same mind when you have my child growing in your womb," and he smirks, looking at you as if he's taking a sacred oath, and then walks away.
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You finally manage to take a bath and change clothes, and then you go to visit your aunt. She spends most of her time alone, sipping tea in the gardens, partly because she can't stand the other court ladies, partly because the court ladies can't stand her. Truthfully, you cannot blame them, your aunt speaks plainly—too plainly at times.
You sit down with her for tea, which you end up swallowing like salt, because your aunt takes it with a whole squeezed lemon, and no sugar.
"I saw you with your husband earlier. I may be too old for new fashion but mud on your skirt and twigs in your hair seem a bit too brazen, even for me."
You stifle a smile, recalling what happened. If only she knew he was brazen enough to have you utterly undone on dragon back, thousands of feet up.
Your eyes go distant while you fumble with some tablecloth threads, but your Aunt stares at you piercely, and grabbing her cup of tea she says "I love that look on you."
"What?"
She sips the sour liquid and puts the cup down. "That look. The I'm in love look."
"I am not!" you counter, cheeks going red.
"Of course you are. I've watched you two. I dare say he's falling way faster than you."
You look at her puzzled. Many things have changed in a moon. And you are sure you are utterly infatuated with him. But you did not know what to think of what he actually feels for you, if he even feels something. You know he cares for you, you know he loves spending time with you. You know he's passionate, possessive, almost soft at rare times. But in love? That seems too soon to consider, or to hope for.
"It is too soon to talk about love."
"In fact, I did not, my sweet niece. Falling in love and love are beasts of different species. Why do you think we say "falling"? You can't stop from falling. To love a person is an entirely different matter. Love is a choice."
You let those words sink but you prefer not to question your heart right now. There is a reason you have come here to talk to your aunt, even if you don't know how to address the matter without melting from embarrassment.
But in the end, who could you ask for advice? Your squeamish maids? The Queen Mother? Definitely not.
"Listen, I...I wanted to ask you something..." you start "It is uhm...a matter of somewhat intimate nature."
"Ah, my favourites." your aunt says, beaming "I am all ears."
You shift uncomfortably in your chair and swallow another sip of that dreadful tea "My mother...she explained to me what would happen between husband and wife to...consummate the marriage. But she didn't tell me...well, everything else."
Your Aunt is quick to raise her eyebrow "I gathered that your marriage had been consummated by now. Thoroughly."
"Y-yes, of course. But I...discovered...that there are other ways for a husband to please his wife...and I was wondering if...if I could…do those same things to please him."
Your aunt looks utterly puzzled for a long moment, and then, almost stunned, she says "Oh Seven Hells, child. You are telling me you never sucked your husband off?"
A few court ladies walking near turned their heads, going white as sheets, while you, on the contrary, take a nice purple shade.
"Oh, don't look at me like that, prissies. We all did it eventually." she dismisses them, waving a lazy hand, and looks back at you. "You should do it, if you wish. Men love it. Your uncle used to ask—"
"I don't want to hear that, auntie, I'm begging you." you say squinting your eyes.
"Listen to me, child. Men love to think they rule everything, everywhere. But it is not always like that. And if you want to rule your husband's heart, you must rule in his bed first."
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That evening, Aemond wanted nothing more than to lock himself in his room with his wife and forget all the hateful political talk he had had to endure at dinner.
You had not attended, and that had bothered him. Never would he have thought of marriage as anything more than a duty, yet there he was, wondering where you were, who you were with, and why you weren't in his rooms when he set foot in there.
"Where is my wife?" he asks the maid, and she keeps her eyes glued to the floor, saying "The princess spent the evening in the library, your Grace. She told me that she would be—"
"I am here," you say, appearing behind the young maid.
You see his chest sag as if a weight is leaving him, and he casts an icy glance at the poor maid "Out."
He is rarely kind to servants, but you can tell by his tense shoulders that something is wrong.
"Aemond, what is the matter?" you ask as soon as the door closes, walking up to him with a hand behind your back.
"Where were you? Why weren't you at dinner?"
"I was in the library."
"For four hours?"
"It was a tough read—"
He grabs your arm, gripping hour wrist harshly, and you flinch. "Aemond, I swear to you.” you say watching his eye on fire and a sneer twisting his mouth “You can ask Maester Mellos." 
Suddenly he lets you go, and looks down, closing his eye for a moment. But he doesn't apologize, he never does, and not because he is a Prince. It's just the way he is. He doesn't apologize, he doesn't say thank you, he doesn't say please.
"Aemond, what's going on?"
"I don't want to talk about it now. In fact, never. Not here."
You watch him carefully, and you nod as he moves to pour wine into a cup. You watch him gobble it up greedily, which is unlike him. So, you get close and move your hand from behind your back and say, "Anyway, I wasn't lying. I really spent four hours in the library...trying to decipher this."
You show him an old book, and the title catches his eye, cup held in midair. "Tales of the Dragonlords?" he asks frowning. "This is in High Valyrian."
"It is." you confirm as you move closer, and you steal his cup before saying, "Would you read it to me?" and you take a sip, of wine and courage.
He watches the liquid flow down your throat and then accepts the invitation, taking the book—the one he has read so many times he can recite it by heart. He opens it to the first page, but you say "No. Page 72."
There is a slight imperative tone in your tone of voice, and it thrills him, given how his eye glints under the candlelight. He drops it on the table, looking at you from head to toe, and says, "I'll read it to you later, sweet wife."
He steps closer but you back away saying, "Fine, then. I'll tell you what I understood so you can correct me or not." and at the same moment your own hands go up on your corset and you start pulling on the laces.
The gesture catches his eye like a moth to a flame and he stays silent as you pull all the laces and then slip off your dress, remaining in your underskirt. His gaze roams over you slowly, and with a soft smirk, he decides to play the game.
“Page 72, you said. How Dragonlords claimed Dragons.”
“Yes.”
"And why did it capture your interest? Do you wish to do it? Do you wish to claim a dragon?"
"I wish to conquer, not claim."
He comes closer and looks at you, breathing through his nose, restraining, always restraining, and then he's raising his hand to reach a lock of your hair falling on your shoulder, but you stop him, air as heavy as moss.
"The Valyrian sages say a dragonlord must surrender himself completely to the dragon. But it works both ways. The dragon must submit his will to their rider."
He looks at you without blinking, and you take his arms, guiding him closer until you turn and push him lightly on the bed. He sits and you slowly climb on his lap, knees caging his hips, heart is pounding in your throat like a hammer. You hear him taking a swift breath and pride pools in your bones because for once you have caught him off guard.
You can feel his crotch hardening by the moment, but the look on his face is not one of hunger or lust. It is pure and blessed devotion.
You wonder at the view, and your eyes roam on his face until...
"Can I take it off?"
There's no need to say what. His face goes hard as stone, eye looking away with discomfort, with shame.
"Please, Aemond." you whisper. "I want to see all of you. I want you to bare yourself to me as I did to you."
"It is not pleasant."
"I don't want pleasantness. I want you."
He stares at you for an eternal moment and then he caves.
A flash of sparkling blue catches you completely and you can do nothing but watch with lips parted, while he keeps his eye down.
You wrap an arm around his shoulders and lean your head against his to breathe one single word in his ear. "Gevie."
His arms are all around you, holding you so tight you might gasp for air. Instead you are smiling, breathing through his long silver hair. You are not sure if you aunt is right, if love is indeed a choice. You can't bring yourself to care because you are doing it already.
And then he's kissing you, seizing your tongue with his in a fierce consuming way. He slightly hikes up your hips, and his hand tries to slide between your legs, but you lace your fingers around his wrist, breaking the kiss with panted breath.
"No." you whisper, and he looks at you almost questioningly, mouth open and chest heaving.
"Lykirī."
His eye widens and you smile, secretly. "I know what it means now."
He smirks at this and does not miss the chance to be the ever diligent scholar. "But you said it wrong. The R is hard."
“Lykirī.” You say again, following his lesson, and in the same moment your hand leaves his wrist and goes down to his breeches. He dips his chin to look at it, at your hands unsure, and he too looks unsure.
“You don’t have to—“
“I want to.” You say, and your voice comes out firm and clear. “Please, Aemond. Let me…let me touch you.”
He realizes now that in all the times you have been lying together, you never managed to lay a hand on him. He likes to keep people at distance. Too many wrong hands have been on him. The Maesters’, inspecting, debating, healing without healing. That whore, taking what it was not hers to take, not yet.
But he wants you to touch him. He has dreamed of it, in any way a man could dream of a woman’s touch.
He looks at you for a moment, chest rising slowly, and then, without taking his eye off you, he pulls the laces of his breeches and guides your hand around his cock. You look down, exhaling a long breath at feeling his hard and hot flesh already pulsing.
He knows you don’t know how to do it, so his hands guide you at first, going slowly up and down, and the air comes out of his mouth slowly and labored. You look up at him, his eye is pitch black, lid growing heavy with pleasure, and your core clenches, desire pools in your belly and flows down.
He must hear the call of your body, because he releases your hand, still stroking him, and goes right between your legs. You gasp loudly, and he hums, delight dripping from his voice just as you are dripping on his fingers. He starts to pump his fingers and you can do nothing but moan, clutching his shoulders with your free hand, the other still around his cock, but the act is growing lazy, your mind can’t focus properly on what you are supposed to do.
“Listen.” he orders you, fingers moving faster and faster, and you do listen. Your soaked flesh coming undone at his scorching touch. “Who else has you like this?”
But this is a question he’s asking himself. Because no one else will ever have him bare like this.
“You. Just you.” you say hoarsely, eyes closing and hips rocking on their own accord.
“And who am I?” he whispers just as hoarsely, and yet his voice is like a whip on all your senses.
“My husband.” you cry, feeling the wave ready to drown you “Ñuha zaldrīzes.” My dragon.
You cannot care less about how you said it, because then your mouth falls open, nails digging into his shoulder while your trembling hips keep riding his fingers, clenching them like a vice.
Your head falls onward, leaning against his forehead, and you try to catch your breath. You watch his wet fingers go straight into his mouth while he looks at you, humming with pleasure. “You look so pretty like this.” he says with the ghost of a smile on his lips “I should fuck you in Throne Room with the whole court watching, so they know how pretty you are when you come for me.”
You laugh with your cheeks flushing, and he slides an arm around you, and you know he wants to pin you down on the bed and fuck you until you are muffling nonsense in the pillow. But this is not his game. This is yours, and even if you don’t know how to play, you will win.
“No.” you say, climbing down from his lap, and he looks at you with hunger and a tinge of thrilling curiosity. “It is my turn to claim.” You say with all the bravery you possess.
Not a moment later, you are going down on your knees.
Another small victory, because his eye widens as he had never done before, and you can see that this, the sight of you on your knees before him, is something he has been craving for, even dreamed of it.
His breathing is slow, and you are not even touching him.
You place yourself between his knees and you lean closer and closer, anxiety twisting your insides, but you want to do this. “Lykirī, nuha zaldrīzes. Surrender.” you take him into your hand, tugging slowly, and your lips linger on the tip, heart pounding in your ears and eyes fixed on him. “Lykirī.” You say one last time and then you are swallowing him.
He hisses loudly and his lips part, hands clutching the covers until his knuckles go white. He’s like burning metal inside your mouth—hot and hard. At first, you just taste him, running your tongue over the head, and he’s cursing under his breath. His hands twitch on the covers, restraining and restraining, but there’s no need. You take his hand while looking at him and you release it from your mouth to say “Teach me.”
It’s like you have just poured fire on more fire. His eye goes wild, he takes hold of your head and starts to guide you again, making your mouth engulf him once more and deep down to the base and then up to the tip again, filling the room with a wet gagging sound. You get the gist of what you’re supposed to do, so your head starts going up and down and up and down, and he actually moans for you, head falling back for just a moment before looking back, he can’t help but watch as you fiercely claim him.
You watch his chest heaving fast and your jaw is starting to hurt but you don't care, you are too absorbed by the view before you. You are too thrilled by the fact that, for once, you have made him speechless.
He's always so bold in the bedroom, so cruel in deciding when and how to give pleasure, and now he's utterly speechless. He can only curse without breath, and gasp and groan.
“Kelītīs.” he manages to say at one point, voice all husky and cracking. You don’t know that word, and you have no time to ask because in a blink, he’s slamming you onto the bed and he’s hiking up your skirt, but you get on your elbows pushing him on his back and climbing on him.
“I’m not done, valzȳrys.” you say feeling his hard length inflaming your core, so you lay your hips on it as firmly as possible. “I claimed, but I did not conquer.”
“You are fucking torturing me.” he points out, bucking against you.
“Conquests could last for centuries, dear husband. You above all should know that.”
“All I know now is that I need to fuck you.” he says placing both hands on the sheets to pull himself up.
“No, I will.” you promise, rocking your hips once more “This is my conquest, not yours.”
You keep rubbing your drenched core on his length until a sheen of sweat glistens on his forehead, and he's so hard he's leaking from the tip. "You are twisted, wife." he says with a dazed tone and you smile even if you can't take it anymore, but you rock some more, saying "I'm a quick study. And I'm learning from the best."
Finally, when you are so wet you are dripping on him, you raise just enough to slide his cock inside of you.
You gasp together and you brace on his shoulders to start moving. You both know you are not going to last long, so you start rocking your hips slowly, taking him to the hilt until you struggle for air.
“Move…” he orders but you just take the opposite road, slowing your hips in a delicious torturing way. “Do you know what else the Sages said? A rider must know their mount, feel their heat below them.”
But Aemond does not have a single drop of blood in his head right now to give you an answer, let alone play your game; he's just fire that burns and burns and burns and just like the Sages said, you can feel his heat, burning below and inside you. He grips your hips and starts to thrust inside you like the wild beast you are supposedly claiming, until you are moaning so loud your throat hurts.
“Yes—” he growls as you bounce on him “Just like that—you’re gripping me so well—fuck"
You both turn sloppy, a mess of sweaty limbs and teeth biting, clutching at each other with bruising grips, pulling at the roots of his hair when you’re about to fall from the highest sky.
"Come on, my sweet girl. Let go for me." he breathes into your mouth, forcing you to move even faster "Let go fro your dragon. Seal your conquest." And you do.
He follows right after, spilling inside while digging his teeth into your neck like fangs on a prey, muffling his loud groaning.
And you are smiling like a fool, a lovestruck fool, but most of all, a conqueror. 
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Thank you so much for reading!! 💞💞
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midnightcrw · 7 months
Text
Fight
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Pairing: Ghost x Reader, Price x Reader, Soap x Reader, Gaz x Reader
Summary: Your child gets in trouble
a/n: This one is a little different from my usual ones, but I just felt like writing for all four of them. I'm not sure how accurate you'll all find them as I've deliberately exaggerated them, but I do believe that Gaz is a sassy man after seeing how he didn't want to shake Graves' hand. I've also named the children of the TF141, I hope that's okay with you all.
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Scenario:
The moment you both heard that your child got in trouble, the first thing you two did was rush into the principal's office in fear that something happened.
And now you were both sitting in the principal's office with your child, while another child was there with his parents.
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Ghost:
Your eyes widened as you heard the principal say that Daisy and another girl in her class had gotten into a physical fight.
"There was also something your daughter said that is completely unacceptable," Mr. Smith said, looking disappointed at Daisy, even though the girl apparently started the fight and your daughter was just defending herself.
"It wasn't even that bad..." Daisy muttered underneath her breath as she crossed her arms.
Simon was very quiet, but his stoic expression spoke for itself.
"Daisy, I want you to quote what you said," Mr. Smith continued, not wanting to hear another word from her unless she quoted exactly what she said to the girl.
Your daughter looked at you, a pleading look on her face but you just shook your head at her in disappointment, wanting to hear what she said.
She sighed and quoted what she had said before, "You have a face that only a mother could love."
Without missing a single beat, Simon started wheezing in his seat the moment he heard his daughter's insult to the girl.
You glared at him, "Simon!"
Trying to calm down, he put his palm on his mouth as he continued, completely ignoring the angry looks of the principal and the other family.
"Mr. Riley, I want you to calm down. This is highly inappropriate," Mr. Smith said as Simon calmed down.
A few seconds of silence passed between you all before your beloved husband opened his mouth.
"Did you win?"
"Simon!?"
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Price:
It felt like hours as the girl's parents and the girl herself ranted and raved about the fact that your daughter Sophie punched her.
At first you had both been shocked, completely angry at your daughter until the parents opened their mouths to speak.
You almost fell asleep listening to the mother go on and on about how her daughter's nose was bleeding because of Sophie.
Price, on the other hand, sat still in his seat, listening to the whole thing, not having said a word since he walked into the principal's office.
"Your daughter should be suspended!" The father said, glaring at Sophie.
Mr. Smith didn't even get a single chance to say anything, as they continued.
Slowly, Price seemed to lose his patience and turned his head towards you and your daughter.
He whispered, "Punch her harder next time."
"What?" The principal asks.
"Nothing."
Price says as Sophie giggles at her dad.
You tried to stifle your grin by putting a hand over your mouth, just hoping that the parents would shut up soon.
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Soap:
Your son sat between the two of you, his nose bleeding and his face bruised as he frowned at the boy and his parents.
You were extremely worried as you put a hand on your son, Callum's arm, and quietly asked him if he was hurt anywhere else.
Callum just shook his head, not wanting to speak while Soap was already getting bored listening to all of the talking the principal was doing.
"It doesn't matter if he started insulting him because Callum was the one who got violent," Mr. Smith said as you tried to defend your son.
The boy obviously looked much worse than Callum. His hair was disheveled and his face was bruised. His nose was also bleeding, as was his lower lip.
It looked like your son had done some damage.
"What exactly did he do?" Soap asked, wanting to know exactly how Callum had hit the boy.
As Mr. Smith explained what your son had done, Soap's eyes lit up and a smile appeared on his face.
"I'm so proud of you, you used the punch I taught you," Soap said, extremely pleased that Callum had listened and actually used the things he had taught him.
Callum grinned at his dad's antics as you put your face in your hands, sighing and muttering "Why did I marry this idiot..."
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Gaz:
You were shocked to hear what your son, Ethan, had done to the boy.
Mr. Smith was obviously upset and angry that Ethan had acted so childishly, and immediately got into a physical fight the moment the boy wouldn't stop insulting him.
You felt the headache already pounding in your head as you rubbed your temple, completely out of it.
Ethan didn't really say anything, he just listened to everything that was said.
The boy's parents glared at the three of you, never once looking away.
The boy that insulted your son, looked angry, obviously still being pissed at the fact that Ethan punched him, even though he himself started with the insults.
Gaz was not even shocked, sitting there with his hand holding up his head up as he looked extremely uninterested in the principal's endless speech.
Rolling his eyes, Gaz moved closer to you and Ethan as he whispered.
"Did you break any of his bones?"
"No."
"Good, because I'm not paying anything in this economy."
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