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alavestineneas · 10 months

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Losing dogs

pairing: young!coriolanussnow x fem!reader

summary: His golden prize, his future wife, was now bound to him by the ring on her finger. Of all of his investments, this one had the potential to yield the greatest return. warnings: not really canon-compliant, mentions of minor violence, blood and shitty relationships word count: 4k

Part 2 is here!

author's note: remember kids, manipulators and sick bastards are only hot in fiction - don't do them (and drugs) in real life!

The polished toes of his new shoes reflected everything in the grand hall—they caught glimmers of lamps adorned with gold, colourful drapes on the enormous windows, and the kaleidoscopic dresses of women around. The chatter filled the room, almost too loud to hear the music—not that he would enjoy it either. Some things require focus.

''Mister Fabius, Missis Fabius.''

Corialanus's face melts into a smile-like expression at the sight of the older couple.

They look like lice in the large building—rich lice, that is. The golden and platinum rings on Missis Fabius's fingers shine with every gemstone known to man, mirroring the bright lights. The jewels look ugly on the wrinkly hand, he notes. What a waste.

''Mister Snow, what a surprise! I was just telling Livia of your prodigious success in your new position. Incredible work, Mr. Snow; simply incredible! ''

The man's face radiated with excitement, getting closer in shade to his burgundy tie. The gold threats on it piqued more interest for Mister Snow than the words of the old man—after all, it's not every day you meet such luxury in person.

The man's wife, however, seemed less enthusiastic; her cold, bored gaze circled him up and down, stopping only after getting the satisfaction of an undoubtedly unpleasant conclusion.

Coriolanus mentally went over his outfit, hairstyle, and anything else she might have noticed. Nothing was out of place; the holes in his coat were a thing of the past. Still, it was something—that thought found its place in his brain, drilling a small hole in its way.

''When will we know of your decision, Mister Snow? We gave you time—a lot of time.''

''This evening, Mrs. Fabius. After the play, I promise to give you my answer tonight.''

He has to look first. What fool buys a horse blind? Sure, the horse came with immense fortunes and, most importantly, connections, but still. He couldn't afford to make a hasty decision, especially when the stakes were so high. After all, he was one of the most desirable bachelors; Fabiuses had to thank him for even considering the offer.

''There is no agreement until tomorrow, Mister Snow. We will have you for breakfast at nine o'clock sharp,'' Mr Fabius said, placing a hand on his wife's back and leading her towards the entrance. They could afford not to make one's adieu.

The opera was popular among the richest; all of the seats were taken. He would have lied if he said the golden rails and red velvet didn't make him feel a bit out of place. Nobody paid him any attention, although this time it didn't hurt him as much as usual. He could hide in the shadows of his box seat without being concerned about making an impression.

Not the stage, of course. It was the least of his worries, although he did pay a high price for a ticket. No, he looked at her.

The golden gown on her was a shimmering masterpiece. Layers and layers of the most expensive fabric covered her body like soft waves, crashing down at the round neckline with their gilded ends. She wore diamond earrings, just like her mother did, although they suited her better.

Coriolanus remembered her from the academy; she always sat near the window, gazing out at the world with a longing in her eyes. She wasn't a very bright student but rather a dutiful one. always on time, always prepared with her assignments, and always eager to please her teachers. The heiress to the jewellery empire. The flower of the elite social scene. Her presence attracted attention, yet she seamlessly blended into the background, never stealing the spotlight. YN Fabius was everything he needed her to be—a picture, but never a spectacle.

The manor was grand and opulent, showing the wealth and status of the Fabius family. Its sprawling gardens and delicate architecture were a testament to its esteemed position in society. Collums, paintings, and endless staircases stood as if frozen in time. It was as if there was no war just a decade ago.

''Mister Snow,'' the butler called out, his voice echoing through the grand foyer. ''Breakfast is served in the blue dining hall; if you would please follow me.''

Thousands and thousands of steps and passages lined the walls, leading to various wings and chambers of the mansion. It was warm, even during the cold autumn season. Only keeping the fireplaces always lit must cost a fortune.

When they finally reached the needed room, Coriolanus was slightly out of breath. The blue walls reached the high ceiling, painted with pictures of half-naked gods and goddesses frolicking in fields of flowers. It created the illusion of a smell wafting through the air as if the vibrant colours had come to life.

The table was served for four, not three, suggesting that someone else was expected to join them. The silverware gleamed under the soft rays of sunshine, casting a shimmering glow across the room—pure silver, nothing less.

The door behind him opened with a gentle creak, revealing Mr. Fabiuse's humble figure. His simple, at first glance, shirt was another of the perfectly constructed illusions—Coriolanus knew the fabrics like the back of his hand. The shirt, though seemingly plain, was made from the finest Egyptian cotton, woven with intricate patterns.

''Mister Snow, how good that you came on time. Excuse my ladies, the girls are such girls at every age. Take so long to get ready,'' he laughs. ''Please, take a seat," Mr. Fabius said, gesturing towards a plush chair covered in velvet.

''There is no point in all of those paints once you hit sixty,'' Mrs.Fabius said, appearing right behind her husband. She circled the table before taking a seat herself, her eyes glancing disapprovingly at the young man. "Let's begin before the food grows cold," she added with a sigh, her tone tinged with resignation.

''Of course,'' Mr. Fabius nodded, lifting the lid on the first dish. The aroma of it filled the room, and Coriolanus couldn't help but feel his hunger grow. He didn't have the habit of eating so much in the morning—another thing he needs to adjust about his routine.

When Mr.Fabius finally placed the fork down, Coriolanus knew it was time. ''Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Fabius. I must say, I thought a lot about your proposal, and after careful consideration, I have decided to accept it.''

''Good.'' Mrs. Fabius answered instead, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. "I'm glad to hear that, Coriolanus. I believe this union will bring great delights to both of us."

Mr. Fabius seemed not to notice the interruption. ''I think a winter wedding would be absolutely perfect. Everybody seems to be getting married in the spring, but in the winter? Oh, it's definitely going to be a hit. Ah, and here's the lucky bride-to-be!''

She stood beside the just-opened door, her eyes following his expressions. Her hands, adorned just with one small pearl ring, were gently clasped together in front of her. She looked nervous, like a child standing in front of the full class on the first school day. Her dress, a delicate lace creation, clings to her figure like a second skin.

He smiled at her. YN looked like an antique statue, as if she just stepped out of the ruins of the Panem. Coriolanus wasn't even sure she was breathing—her stillness was so deep.

''Let's leave the lover birds to chirp,'' Mrs.Fabius said, standing up. She walked towards the couple, her heels clicking against the floor, and extended her hand towards YN. "Congratulations, my dear," she said with a warm smile before leaving, her husband following after her.

''It's time for a ring, isn't it?'' Coriolanus cleared his throat. Everything is to be done appropriately; there is no reason to avoid traditions. He reached into the pocket of his suit and pulled out a small box. White, of course—who is he, if not a romantic at heart?

''Mr. Snow,'' YN watched him stand up and come closer with the same expression she always bore—a mixture of melancholy and worship. ''Grant me something.''

He paused. Coriolanus didn't like to make promises. He would have to make it clear to her later, after the wedding—the fact that he took her for a bride was enough of a promise. Still, he needed this engagement to work, and he was not about to lose it to a crude lie. With a sigh, he softly replied, "What is it that you desire, Miss YN?"

''Promise me you will be kind to me. All of our marriage, promise to be kind to my heart.''

Coriolanus almost laughed in her face. Oh, what a lovely, clueless fool. "I will do my best to treat you with kindness, Miss YN."

''Good,'' she smiles. ''I think we will make a great couple then, Mister Snow.''

''Coriolanus, my dear. Please call me Coriolanus."

He couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance. It was sealed. His golden prize, his future wife, was now bound to him by the ring on her finger. Of all of his investments, this one had the potential to yield the greatest return.

Mr.Fabius didn't lie—his daughter was the perfect bride. She never spoke to him unless he did first; she never questioned him. She simply followed his lead, like a well-trained pet. A pretty, lovely YN. She knew what to do, how to dress, and what to say. He searched for one—at least a slight imperfection—and couldn't find one; it was as if she wasn't a human, which, to him, she wasn't.

''What are you going to do today?'' he asks, without bothering to look up from the newspaper. He doesn't wish to hear her answer, but he still asks out of courtesy. Coriolanus knows that her daily routine is made up of attending charity events, dinners with influential figures's wives, and shopping for designer clothes. It's a predictable pattern.

''Well, the trees I ordered came in today; I'll have to chat with the new gardener about them. Are you meeting with anyone important later?"

''As a matter of fact, I do. Larry Tremblay wants to include me in a business deal he's been working on."

It's partly true, but she doesn't need to know more. Just a familiar name was usually enough for his wife to hum in satisfaction and assume that he was still climbing the social ladder. Not this time, evidently.

''You shouldn't accept.''

He looked up from his cup, trying to guess if she had gone out of her mind. YN looked like usual, her eyes meeting his without a care in the world. Why today, of all days, she decided to question his decision was beyond him. He cleared his throat, attempting to maintain his composure. "And why should I decline such a good-looking opportunity?"

''He beats his wife. Just yesterday, I saw her with bruises. ''

Coriolanus fought hard to keep a smile from forming on his lips. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, feigning indifference. He knew his wife wasn't the brightest, but this? "Is that so?"

''Don't you understand what it means? The man only beats his wife for two reasons. If he has always enjoyed those types of things, which Larry did not, or if he loses power and control in other aspects of his life. The business isn't going as well as he wants it to,'' YN lowers her gaze, losing confidence in her voice. ''I thought you would want to know that.''

He would, very much. Her conclusion was the dumbest thing he ever heard, based on some black and blue marks and a twist of her imagination. Still, it was interesting—his wife's head wasn't always empty like he hoped. She thought enough to notice something, and she listened enough to remember his partners.

''I will keep that in mind,'' he replied, his tone tinged with a hint of annoyance. What harm could it do to entertain her thoughts? It was even slightly amusing to see her try to piece together a puzzle that didn't exist.

It wasn't so fun anymore when Larry Tremblay was fired exactly two weeks later. Surely, it could be a consequence, but Coriolanus Snow didn't believe in them. There had to be something, anything, to explain his wife's sudden knowledge—she couldn't have acquired it on her own, about that he was sure.

YN looked unfazed by his questioning gaze as she lay on the dark olive-coloured sofa in his office, continuing to play with a snow-white kitten on her stomach. It was his wedding gift, one of many—the pricy creature with a diamond collar. He thought it was rather symbolic—two caged animals who were once considered sacred.

''How did you understand that Tremblay was about to be fired?'' Coriolanus asked, his voice laced with suspicion. It could be that she overheard the woman talk about it, or even that she had some inside information from her connections. What bothered him more was what she could know from the same source about him.

YN paused, her fingers gently stroking the kitten's fur as she met his gaze. "I didn't know that. I simply knew he had trouble at work. Evidently, they were big enough for him to lose his position."

''Really?'' he chuckled. Maybe she was telling the truth. ''Then, what can you say about my work?''

YN's eyes narrowed slightly. "Your work doesn't matter; how you present yourself does. Can I give you some advice?'

"Sure.'' Coriolanus bit his tongue, fighting the urge to snap back at her. After all, it is what he married her for—to fit in. He took a deep breath.

''Buy a new car, but not the most expensive one; it will give off an impression of stability, like you know the job isn't going anywhere. Your shoes are always too polished; it's like you wore them right out of the box. And throw away that hideous tie you always wear—you look like a student."

''Something else?'' Coriolanus mustered a weak smile, trying to hide his frustration.

''I don't want to offend you, Coriolanus. But I want you to do well. After all, you are my husband now, and your success reflects on both of us. Why not help where I can? You know I love clothes.''

''Good, '' he replied, forcing a more genuine smile. "Now get away from that cat before it scratches you. I'll figure out the rest on my own."

''Of course you will. You are the smartest man I've ever met.''

He was. It was because of his intelligence that YN married him, because of his ambition. Well, that and something else.

From her earliest childhood, YN knew what she was destined to be. She was the child of late parents, the only child, and a girl; she would inherit everything the generations of her family worked so hard to achieve. And YN was no fool; she needed a man. Driven, proud, and cold-blooded. The one who was not afraid to get his hands dirty while she spent her time leisurely in his shadow. Oh, no—YN never minded her place, much like her mother did. She taught her to bet on the finest horses, and Coriolanus Snow was no exception.

From the time she saw him in his ridiculously tight shirt in the academy, she knew what she wanted. Him. The top of every class, the charmer with pretty eyes—a catch, really. Her mother said there was darkness inside her dear Coriolanus, but YN knew. That's why she now sits in the opulent living room, waiting for him to get home. Mr. Snow was a horrific, ruthless man. But he was still, at his core, a man.

And men never listen. That's how she got him and got him good—a silent, fawn-eyed creature that he thought he could control. An obedient wife and a lovely lap dog. It was funny to see his gaze twitch slightly when she said something she wasn't supposed to—how long would it take him to figure it out?

It's time—his tall figure appeared in the corridor leading to the living room. YN watches silently as he takes off his shoes and coat, placing them on the rack by the door. Home at seven p.m. sharp, just like any other day. Just like any other day, dinner is at the table.

He never said thank you. Instead, her closet grew bigger with countless dresses, bags, and shoes—sometimes even brand-new jewellery. YN didn't mind it; she loved it—the jealous whispers of other women at the events about how lucky she was. She didn't have to sleep with a big, fat old man to get the latest fur coat or the most exquisite diamond necklace.

At least a few times a month now, Coriolanus would wake up in the middle of the night, screaming. This night was one of those: YN woke up from the constant turning and tossing in the bed. She doesn't know how he didn't figure out why; it was easy to guess his food contained something to make his sleep far worse—YN made sure of that. Maybe he just didn't have the heart to admit his weaknesses, even to himself.

''Hey,'' she whispered, getting out of the warm covers. YN tiptoed over to Coriolanus' side of the bed, careful not to bump into anything in the dark. ''Hey, wake up. Are you okay?" she asked, gently shaking him awake.

Coriolanus jolted upright, his eyes wide with fear as he gasped for breath. He wasn't; of course, he wasn't. Yn would have lied if she said she didn't find it hot to see him like this—sweat glistening on his forehead, his chest heaving.

''You were having a nightmare again.''

He looked at her with the eyes of a lunatic, still not over his dream. ''What did I say this time?"

''You were mumbling something about birds and songs, I think? It didn't make much sense."

He doesn't recall that she mentored the 10th game too. Without much success, of course, but one thing she did remember was a girl from District 12 who liked to sing. Coriolanus remembered her too; it was evident from the fear that crossed his eyes.

''Excuse me,'' he said, his voice still shaky. ''I need a moment.''

YN watched as he stumbled towards the bathroom, his hands twitching. As much as her husband wanted to hide those parts of himself, he couldn't. Not from her.

There was nothing else to do but wait. YN climbed on the bed, turning her back to the bathroom door. Coriolanus would only come out when he thought she had fallen asleep. She learned to control her breath when she was just a little girl; it saved her life once, when a rebel pointed a gun at her small frame, meaning to shoot. He didn't—what use was it to waste a bullet on a non-breathing child?

Surely, after some time, the blonde man stepped out of the bathroom. For a few minutes, he listened to her steady breathing before sliding under the covers and pressing his body against hers, his large hand covering her shoulders. Coriolanus wasn't gentle; YN wasn't sure he knew what the word meant anyway, but he was careful. His arm around her chest wasn't tight—just enough for him to bring her closer.

As much as YN wanted to turn around and face him, she didn't. There was no point—like any other human, he hated the feeling of vulnerability. Instead, YN focused on the warmth of his body. Coriolanus Snow was a god more than a human, and real gods were never kind. The only currency they recognized was blood.

The annual party for the victor of this year's games. The first year Coriolanus Snow worked as a head gamemaker, his creation was a bloodbath, a spectacle of violence and despair. He did a good job—an excellent one, even—and one of the greatest stars of today's celebration was him.

They needed to dress the part in clothes that exuded power. And so they did. Coriolanus's suit was ample—purple velvet with gold embroidery—the colour of Roman emperors. The colour of the winners. The suit hugged his broad shoulders perfectly, suiting his white hair. Gold cufflinks, gold rings—he looked like a sovereign among men. It was risky to do so right in front of the current president, but who was Coriolanus Snow if he was not confident in his success?

YN wore the gown from the matching collection, a floor-length masterpiece. The deep purple colour was a stark contrast to her skin tone. And jewellery, of course—she came from the Fabius family for a reason. The lavender diamonds on her necklace and earrings. They were rare—the rarest—even. Only a few violet diamonds have been mined in the past seventy years.

It was all anyone talked about behind their backs. Whispers, rumours, and so much venom dripped from the mouths of Panem's elite—that's what they were hoping for, anyway. The Snows were just as shamelessly rich as they were powerful.

That's why they now sat at the President's table, just a few faces away from them. Coriolanus smiled to himself - not even the President's wife could compare to YN. Not in fashion, not in elegance. He had an impeccable taste - even a person far away from politics could see that.

''A toast!'' the President stood up with a glass in his hand, turning to face the Coriolanus. ''I am sure many of you know who was the mastermind behind the games this year - it's my pleasure to introduce Coriolanus Snow to those of you who don't. However, not many know his story of success. From a dirt-poor background, when his greatest possession was his family name, he worked hard to achieve the position he holds today. Let us raise our glasses and celebrate his remarkable journey to success and the country of Panem - the land of opportunity!''

YN cursed under her breath as she listened to the crowd cheer for her husband. He remained stoic - the only thing that gave away his fury was his eyes - they grew as dark as the sky outside. She didn't bother to calm him - this fire was impossible to put out. The President made a fatal mistake with his speech - she knows. But the true fear crept into her heart when she saw the President's wife pass Coriolanus the dish.

Cabbage.

Under a fancy sauce, it could be transformed into a delicacy fit for their circle. But tonight, it was his last straw. The colours changed on the face of Coriolanus, from white to all shades of red. His fists clenched, and veins pulsed on his temples. The room fell silent as they observed.

''Oh, I am so sorry,'' YN chipped in. Quick, something. ''I have a terrible allergy to cabbage.''

The President's wife looked concerned. ''Oh, I didn't know.''

YN made her eyes water, throwing a coughing feat for more dramatic effect. ''I think I need to step outside for some fresh air."

She felt a warm hand on her back. ''Let me accompany you, just to make sure you're alright." her husband announced, carefully leading her towards the exit.

The first thing he did when they reached the women's bathroom was break the mirrors in a fit of anger. Shards of glass scattered across the floor as he paced around the room like a caged animal. YN watched as shouted and hit the walls, sitting on the bathroom floor. Beautiful one - the tile was a lovely shade of pink, contrasting with the chaos unfolding before her.

After a good few minutes, he finally calmed down and sank to the floor beside her, his face buried in his hands. Her husband, her hauntingly beautiful, pathetic husband - oh, what a sight. He looked mad, maniac, even; his blonde hair was far from its usual perfectly styled form, falling on his tear-stained cheeks.

"What do you think of me?"

His voice is hoarse, a few notes down from a honey-like. She likes it better, YN thinks - nothing of the fasçade he was trying so hard to uphold. No, just a raw hunger with a mix of equally raw despair.

"I think you are an animal, Coriolanus."

She smiles, watching his expression change. He suspected it, of course - her husband was a smart man. Still, he can't believe it - his head twitches in her direction, his gorgeous bottomless eyes shining under the weak light of the only surviving floor lamp.

"What?" he asks with such a loss in his voice YN has to fight the urge to bring him close. Not now, she thinks. It's not the time.

"A hungry, desperate, sick, sick animal with nothing to lose."

Coriolanus gets closer abruptly, clearly angered - she can't let him leave now. His arm shouts to find its place on her neck, long, slim fingers forming a circle around her throat. "You think I am after money, don't you?"

"No, no," a yelp escapes her lips, bordering a hysterical laugh. "Only fools are after money, Coriolanus, and you are no fool."

YN watches as he loses his grip a little, calmed by her words. What a pitiful, fascinating creature was her husband - one word of reassurance and he is willing to let thousands of cursings slide.

"What is it, then? What did you fantasize about in your small dull head?"

He still doesn't believe her. YN is surprised at how quickly it becomes boring.

"You want power."

Clap - the grip on her neck is tight again.

"That's why you choose the fear. People forget the hand that feeds them, but the one who beats? Never."

The frown on his face falls a little, and through the gritted teeth escapes something like a curse. "You talk an awful lot about me," he notes. "What are you hungry for?"

"You."

He laughs. That was a deep, chest laugh - YN thinks she never heard him laugh so sincerely. "You want my love? Don't lie to me, YN," he taunts, pressing a little harder on her neck.

"Not love. Love is easily swayed, is it not? No, I want you."

Coriolanus looks at her as if he never done so before. Well, he looked thousands of times, but he didn't see. His eyes study every expression in hers, every part of her face. "A hungry dog is not a loyal dog," he finally masters.

There is a certain silence after his words. YN gulps, desperatly trying to help her dried throat - the blood from his hands ran down her neck onto her exposed chest, leaving sticky, dark trails behind.

"Feed me, then."

He kisses her. He puts a force behind it, watching her hands fall on his chest for some kind of support. Coriolanus kisses her until there is no air in YN's chest anymore, and she has to push him away to take a rushed breath.

They were going to be just fine.

After all, they both never bet on losing dogs.

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femmefatalevibe · 1 year

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Femme Fatale Guide: How To Master An "Effortlessly Elegant" & Put-Together Look

Table of Contents:

Treat your skin like royalty

Take ample care of your natural hair

Dress in crisp neutral outfits that cater to your body shape

Choose your accessories wisely

Embrace feature-enhancing makeup

Keep your nails clean, filed, and simple

Regarding your signature scent(s)

Follow your dental & bodily hygiene routines religiously

Treat your skin like royalty:

Use high-quality skincare twice a day

Wear sunscreen every day

Remove your makeup every night before bed no matter what

Use makeup that doesn't clog your pores/irritate your skin

Change your pillowcases weekly

Eat plenty of produce & drink lots of water

Prioritize sleep

Limit or eliminate alcohol, cigarettes, caffeine, and processed foods/sugary drinks

Keep your skin exfoliated/derma-planed

Take ample care of your natural hair:

Use high-quality shampoo/conditioner combos that suit your hair type & don't cause build-up

Hydrate with a scalp mask 1-4 times a month

Use cold or lukewarm water to wash your hair

Apply shampoo to the roots/hair covering your scalp and conditioner only on the "ponytail" section of your hair

Use a specialty hair towel after getting out of the shower

Always comb wet hair and brush 1-3 times a day when dry

Limit heat on your hair when possible & always use a heat protectant every time you do

Use non-elastic or silk hair ties

Get regular trims at least 3-4 times per year (get your hair layered if it's very thick)

Try to limit how much you dye or, especially bleach, your hair and do elaborate styles with tons of heat & harsh products

Dress in crisp neutral outfits that cater to your body shape:

Embrace minimalist basics (tees, tanks, blouses, sweaters, jeans, trousers, blazers, leather jackets, coats, etc.) in high-quality fabrics (Pima cotton, Merino wool, Tencel, mulberry silk, etc.)

Choose options in black, white, grey, charcoal beige, navy, burgundy, or cream depending on your skin tone and preferences

Invest in a collection of sleek footwear options (black boots, loafers, black pumps, white sneakers, etc.) in minimalist, timeless styles that suit the color palette, hemlines & proportions of your go-to outfits

Ensure your shoes and accessories feel proportional to the weight/silhouette of your outfit, color-coordinate with the rest of your look, and have streamlined hardware from head-to-toe (all silver, all gold, or one piece that mixes silver/gold and another gold & silver piece each to balance out the color palette)

Keep all of your clothes steam and lint-rolled, so they look crisp & fresh all-day

Befriend your tailor to take in or let out clothes as needed when purchased off the rack

Choose clothes/styles that flatter your body shape and proportions

Utilize belts and bra tape to adjust the waist, keep shirts tucked in, and keep straps from falling down or create an impromptu cuff/hem on your pants

When in doubt, select a neutral head-to-toe monochrome outfit

If on a budget, consider choosing black, grey, camel beige items to hide fabric imperfections that could cheapen your look

Choose your accessories wisely:

Select sleek, simple neutral (& almost exclusively) monochrome shoes made with smooth (recycled/vegan) leather with

Pair almost any outfit with a shoe featuring a slight platform, block heel, kitten heel, and/or a sharply pointed toe to elongate your silhouette

Complement your outfit with structured, pared-back handbags with no logos (Focus on quality and construction, not the brand name) in a neutral shade and timeless silhouette

For jewelry, choose at most one statement piece and all others should be focused on different areas of the body (e.g. don't mix statement earrings with layered/bold necklaces or stacked rings * bracelets). When in doubt, choose simple diamond chains or earrings, sleek bangles or chainlink necklaces & bracelets, simple pendant necklaces, and minimalist rings in hardware that all go together

Embrace feature-enhancing makeup:

Cover up any dark circles, blemishes, or hyperpigmentation with a color-matched concealer

Lightly contour with a bronzer that complements your skin tone

Fill in your brows for a naturally full look (or get them professionally tinted)

Apply a light wash of rose, coral, or mauve blush

Use black mascara with a little bit of eyeliner and/or a subtle wash of brown eyeshadow on the lids

Apply a "your lips but better" nude shade or "just kissed' berry lipstick or pigmented lip balm for a subtle wash of color

Keep your nails clean, filed, and simple:

Maintain cut, cleaned, and filed short nails

Opt for a square or almond nail shape

Choose a timeless nail shade (pink, nude, red, beige, dark cherry, navy, dark purple, black) with no nail art

Hydrate your hands and scrub under your nails daily

Regarding your signature scent(s):

Ensure your body wash/lotion and perfume scents don't clash

Test perfumes for a trial day to ensure they smell divine with your unique pheromones

Choose a fragrance appropriate for the seasonal/occasion

Apply a dab on each wrist and on your neck/behind the ears. If the scent doesn't project well on you, try applying these small dabs on the cuffs and shoulders of your jacket/walk into it to get it on your hair (if it would stain your clothes)

Don't layer more than one heady perfume at a time or scents that don't have complementary and/or shared notes

Follow your dental & bodily hygiene routines religiously:

Floss every day (after each meal if possible)

Brush your teeth with an electric toothbrush twice a day

Have mints on hand if you're a garlic, spice, or coffee lover

Keep your lips & hands well-moisturized and protected with SPF

Shower your body daily and be extra diligent in scrubbing your privates, everything behind, and under your arms

Don't use very hot water in the shower (it burns/dries out your skin)

Exfoliate 2-3 times a week with a sugar scrub

Moisturize daily or anytime you get out of the shower

Apply SPF on any exposed sun (especially in the summer or when the UV index is high in your area)

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lunarliyah · 1 day

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venus placements and color theory ౨ৎ

Aries venus

you guys already know by now. REDS. we love seeing you guys embody any shade of red. From the bloody reds to the burgundy. i also would associate you guys with *burnt* orange. Think of fire, since you guys are so fiery, mostly red and orange. red hair looks amazing on Aries venus. like AMAZING. even, again, burnt orange hair colors as well.

Taurus venus

love browns on you guys. deep dark browns. all i can think of is victoria monet, who is a taurus sun and taurus venus and she really OWNS that color. like you guys really invented brown. quite literally. More wood colors, like dark wood browns. mahogany. *chefs kiss*

Gemini venus

bright yellows. yellow gold jewelry. you all are very open with color and don’t mind wearing variety of colors. but because yellow is such a social color, a more inviting and expressive color, it just works for you guys every time. skin pops with the color yellow with gemini venus people. gemini venus and blonde hair, beautiful. blonde hair fits so well.

Cancer venus

white. because cancers are such a feminine sign, the sign of the mother, such a pure and soft yet bright and shining like the moon, white looks absolutely gorgeous on cancer venus. also i feel like because cancer venus can keep white clean as well. cancer venus people like looking clean and not busy or whimsical.

Leo venus

alright leo venus’s, y’all know how stunning y’all look in orange. but like the original orange color. it’s so lovely on you guys. even men with orange suits. it just works, all the time. silk orange material to represent royalty.

Virgo venus

GREEN. please y’all look so good and rich in green. very grounded color. can even be seen as sensual. deep emerald green makes you guys also look like royalty.

Libra venus

pinks, y’all knew this was coming. light pinks to hot pinks to soft pinks. it doesn’t matter, it makes you guys extremely approachable and inviting. you look very confident in pink.

Scorpio venus

y’all know y’all own the color black. its natural and effortless. its such a power move to wear black to important events for you guys. this color just demands respect. ESPECIALLY when all the black pieces you’re wearing matches. black hair as well.

Sagittarius venus

my sag venus’s yall can never do any wrong in the color purple. dark purle to light lilac purples. you look astonishing in purple clothing. definitely breaking necks with that color choice.

Capricorn venus

grey grey grey. so conservative and stoic like in that color. literally grey looks so dry and boring on others but on you guys it commands attention and it fits so well. silver jewelry as well with dark or light shades of grey. such a effortlessly sexy color choice for y’all.

Aquarius venus

deep royal blues. dark navy blues really demands so much attention when you guys wear it. very attractive and gorgeous on you guys. jewelry with sapphire crystal.

finally

Pisces venus

you guys are very experimental with your appearance. im saying iridescent and light blues. baby blues look so good on you all. very shiny material thats out of this world. eye catching. diamonds looks great on pisces venus’s. multicolor choices. and dreamy light blues. also highlights in your hair looks so good on you all.

*make sure we are giving credit when its due and not stealing other people’s work*

thank you all for reading. to book a reading with me, link in bio

#color theory #astrology tumblr #astro notes #astrology observations #astrologynotes #astro.txt #rising sign #sun #astrology forecast #spirituality #scorpio #aries placements #taurus placements #capricorn #virgo venus #venus #astrologer #astro #astrology community

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 8 months

Text

Someone Borrowed, Someone Blue.

an engagement party, your childhood best friend, one too many glasses of champagne. what could go wrong?

pairing - childhood bestfriend!steve harrington x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. cheating. alcohol mention. so much angst… i’d apologise but i’m not sorry.

word count - 3.7k

author’s note - get it? like, something borrowed, something blue… because it’s a wedding… I was half asleep when that popped into my head and I thought it was perfect, personally. I don’t condone cheating irl, but also… it’s your life, do what you want ;)

as always, reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics!! so, if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging. thanks, angels <3

masterlist. inbox.

The moonlight shines down, glinting off the diamond ring settled on your left hand.

Everyone's dancing, singing, laughing, enjoying each other's company in a rare moment of complete happiness. People keep grabbing you, hugging you, reaching for you to offer their congratulations.

Isn't it just so wonderful? Two people completely in love. Ah, to be young again.

The fairy lights twinkle where they're hung across the garden, acres of grass just begging to be decorated. You'd initially protested this venue - a huge country house in the middle of nowhere, with countless rooms and a huge courtyard.

It's just our engagement party, not our wedding. We don't have to be so extravagant.

This isn't extravagant - not for my family, anyway. Just say yes. I'll plan the entire thing, you don't have to worry.

And so you did. Say yes. To his proposal, the venue, anything he suggests. You can't find it in you to say no, to argue, to fight for what you really want. It isn't worth it.

"There you are, my soon to be wife!"

You take a deep breath, pretending the sound of his voice doesn't make you feel sick.

"My soon to be husband."

He can't see the grimace on your face, even though it's there, loud and clear. He can't read you, has never been able to.

"A car has just pulled up. You expecting anyone else?"

You are, but you won't let yourself get your hopes up. So you lie.

"Don't think so."

"Okay, well... you'll save me a dance, won't you? My mom wants to take some pictures."

You nod reluctantly, patting his arm with as much affection as you can muster.

"I think your brother is calling you."

You direct his attention to where his frat boy siblings are, hollering and yelling for him to come over.

"My guys!"

He departs as quickly as he came, leaving a wave of too strong cologne in his wake.

You take a walk from the garden to the front of the house, curiosity peaked. You scan the parking lot, and your heart stops when you spot the car in the corner.

A burgundy 1983 BMW 733i.

He's here.

You spin on your heel, searching almost frantically, when you hear someone clear their throat. You turn around, and there he is.

Leaning against a pillar, stood in a dress shirt and tailored trousers, hair perfectly styled.

Steve Harrington.

You're half convinced you're dreaming. The world moves around you in a daze, crickets chirping and wind blowing gently. You lock eyes with him, and can't fight the grin that spreads across your face.

“Don’t fret, baby. The life of the party has arrived.”

You scoff but almost run towards him, tripping over in your heels. He meets you halfway, arms snaking around your waist to keep you steady as you wrap yourself around him.

He smells the same. Cologne, spearmint, a faint note of diesel from the car. He smells like home.

Past home, you remind yourself. Not anymore. You have a new home now, with a soon to be husband that doesn’t understand you and a soon to be family that is built on morally questionable money and fake niceties. Steve’s a person of your past, a distant memory, a fading dream.

Except he’s stood right in front of you.

He's staring at you with a look in his eyes you can’t quite place. You’ve never seen it before.

"I didn't think you'd come," you whisper, begging yourself to pull away from his embrace. He doesn't let you go far, keeping his arms around your back as if he's worried you'll bolt at any given moment.

"And miss my best friends engagement party? Never."

"Best friends. We're not five anymore, Steve."

You roll your eyes, punching his arm lightly.

"What, I can't call you my best friend anymore?"

He picks you up, spinning you across the gravel of the parking lot. You're dizzy with it, the world passing by you in streaks of shapes and colours.

"Steve!"

"What?" he laughs. "You don't like this, best friend? What's the problem, best friend? Are you dizzy, best friend?"

"Put me down!"

Steve throws you over his shoulder as you both spin, strong hands preventing you from falling.

"Put me down, Steve, please - okay, okay! You're my best friend! Call me best friend all you want, please!"

Steve's crying with laughter, out of breath and rosy cheeked. He places you back on the ground, smoothing your hair down with rough palms.

You inhale carefully, grabbing onto his biceps as an anchor as you gauge your bearings. You look up at him, and lose your breath all over again.

Chest heaving, tongue darting over his bottom lip, hair mussed but still perfectly styled. He looks a picture, an ancient painting, a statue carved from the finest marble.

"I never want you to stop calling me your best friend," you whisper, so quietly that the breeze takes it.

"Then I won't."

Your hand slips down Steve's arm and into his, fingers linking gently.

"I missed you."

"I missed you so much, Birdy. You have no idea."

The childhood nickname shoots a lightning bolt through your heart, shiver running up your back involuntarily.

The two of you would sit and watch cartoons for hours on the floor of Steve's living room, pressing your little heads together to see the TV better. He'd joke that you sounded like Tweety Bird, all sweet and lispy. The nickname was born that day, and stuck ever since.

"How was California?"

"So good. I'll tell you all about it later. How's your engagement party?"

"It's good."

You try to sound convincing but your voice cracks, giving you away instantly. Busted.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. There's a few people you know back there - from school, the neighbourhood, family. They'll all wanna see you."

"I'll socialise later. Wanna talk to you first."

The intensity in his voice makes you nervous. You realise you're still holding his hand, so you drop it, crossing your arms over your chest.

"You didn't RSVP."

"Didn't get your invite. Travelling."

"I called your mom. She said she'd tell you."

"She didn't."

"She told me she did."

The crickets continue to chirp, gentle breeze blowing your hair into your face. You look at Steve pointedly, unwilling to be the first to break.

"What are you doing here, Steve?"

"It's your engagement party."

"So you've said."

"I haven't seen you in months."

"I tried to call, but you stopped answering."

"Birdy-"

"I'm just saying, Steve. We haven't spoken in months, I feel like you've been point blank ignoring me, I've had to come to terms with the fact that you probably wouldn't be at this party or the wedding and then all of a sudden you just show up? Unannounced?"

"I know how this looks."

"Do you?"

You're not entirely sure where all of this anger has come from, but you can't seem to tamp it down. It's bubbling, simmering, threatening to spill over the surface dramatically any second.

"I wasn't sure I could do this. Any of it."

"Do what?"

"Stand by and watch you make a mistake."

You scoff, laughing at him in disbelief. He's never been one to sugarcoat things, and usually, it's one of your favourite things about him. But not today.

"Don't you fucking dare, Steve."

"Birdy, be real. The guy is a prick. And you want to marry him? You're a smart girl, the smartest person I know. You've got to see that none of this makes any sense."

"So you showed up here to yell at me? Criticise my life choices? Thanks, Steve. Thanks a million. Some best friend, huh?"

"I've done nothing but support you."

"You ran away! Across the country! How is that support?"

"Fine, maybe I can't support straight up stupidity!"

"Am I smart or am I stupid? Which one is it?"

Steve sighs, running his fingers through his hair as he watches you pace the gravel in front of him. You're vibrating with fury now. It's something he's seen before. Something he knows how to navigate better than anyone. He knows you. He knows you need an outlet here.

He also knows that you're never more hyperaware than when you're mad. So, he takes his opportunity.

"I came here to tell you not to marry him."

You stop dead in your tracks, shaking your head in denial.

"...Why, Steve? Why would you say that?"

"You know why."

"No."

You take a deep breath and will yourself not to cry. In the garden, you can hear people laughing, singing along to some 70s pop song you've never liked. You pray silently that no one comes looking for you.

You take a step closer to Steve, standing up straight.

"Say it."

He looks at you incredulously, shocked by your sudden defiance.

"Say it, Steve. If you came all this way to say it, then fucking say it."

Steve steps into you, closing down the space. You don't move, determined not to back down.

"You're going to hate me if I say it, Birdy."

"I don't give a fuck anymore. Say. It."

Steve runs his tongue over his bottom lip, never once breaking eye contact with you. The silence seems to stretch on infinitely, thick and blanketing like fresh snow falling.

"I'm in love with you."

You feel like you've been punched in the gut. You take a deep breath and try to stay on two feet, wobbling where you stand. Finally, you find your voice.

"Fuck you, Steve Harrington. Fuck. You."

He laughs, but there's no humour in it.

"Yeah."

"How dare you? How dare you come to my engagement party and start confessing your feelings? You could have told me anytime, but you chose today?"

He goes to interrupt but you hold a finger up, effectively shutting him up.

"How long, huh? How long have you been in love with me?"

Steve's trembling, chest stuttering with the force of his confession.

"For as long as I can remember."

You haven't looked away from him once. You're frozen in place, suspended in the moment.

"No you haven't."

"You're gonna tell me how I feel now, Birdy?"

"Yeah, Steve, I am. Because I don't believe you. You're King Steve, ladies man, notorious player. You were never seen with the same girl twice in high school. Don't you remember? Sneaking into my room at night, whispering under my blankets about your latest hookup, telling me all the dirty details?"

"I remember," he whispers, voice laced with something like sadness. "Of course I remember."

"You don't get to tell me this now. It's not fair, Steve."

"Why not, huh?"

"Because I've always been in love with you! Always."

Steve stumbles backwards, dizzy and disorientated.

"No you haven't."

"You're gonna tell me how I feel now?" you laugh in disbelief. "I've always been in love with you. Everyone knows it. My parents, your parents, all of our friends... I think the goddamn mailman knew, Steve!"

"I didn't."

"Blissful ignorance," you chuckle humourlessly.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I knew it wouldn't change anything."

Steve's eyes go wide as he keels over, as if the wind has been knocked out of him.

"Wouldn't change anything? Birdy, it... I-I can assure you it... It would have changed everything."

You both look at each other, breathless and riddled with confusion. There's something flowing through your veins, something unintelligible, something unrecognisable.

"Why would you do this today?" you choke out, sobs threatening to break free. "Of all the days, Steve."

"Because I'm going insane!" he yells, voice raising. "I can't sleep, I can't eat, I can't function knowing that you're going to marry a man you don't love. It's ruining my life, Birdy!"

"You don't think it's ruining mine? Huh?"

You take a breath, very aware that if you shout anymore, multiple people are going to come running from the garden.

"This is selfish, Steve. And you're not selfish."

He looks down at you, bottom lip wobbling.

"I am when it comes to you. Always have been."

"You're breaking my fucking heart, baby."

You choke out the words before bursting into tears, sobs wracking your frame. Steve grabs your hand and guides you to the stone steps, sitting you down next to him. Against better judgment, he slings an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.

He smells so familiar, so comforting, that it only makes you cry harder. You bury your face in his chest, fingers tangled into his dress shirt, holding on for dear life.

"I'm sorry," he's mumbling. "I'm so fucking sorry. I had to. I really had to."

"I know," you're muttering back. "I know you did. I know."

You lift your head to look at him only to find he's crying too, years of emotion dripping down his face. You wipe his tears with your thumbs, your heart shattering at the sight in front of you.

Steve's only made you cry once before. In ninth grade, you'd stupidly assumed that the two of you would go to the prom together. Steve had made a joking comment about always being your date, and you hadn't questioned it. Then, one Friday night, he'd snuck into your room to tell you excitedly that he'd asked Lizzy Buchanan to the dance, and she'd said yes. You'd burst into tears immediately, much to your teenage embarrassment, willing yourself to play your cards closer to your chest. Steve had crumbled instantly, crying because you were.

That's how it's always been. He cries, you cry. You cry, he cries. He's just not usually the cause of the tears.

"I'm sorry, Birdy," he chokes. "This was the only way."

"I know," you soothe, rubbing circles into his wet cheeks with your fingers. "I know. You're not the villain here, Steve. You never were."

His eyes are trained to yours, silent communication passing back and forth. The two of you have always had the ability to practically read each other's minds.

You're not sure who moves first - perhaps it's the universe, pulling you together by the strings woven into your chests - but suddenly your lips are melded together, moving as if it's the easiest thing in the world. Steve's clinging to you as if you're his life source, a man in the desert without water.

You tangle your fingers into his hair to tug him impossibly closer, eyes fluttering when he groans, deep and visceral. He spreads his legs and pulls you between them, both of you slotting together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Your tears are dancing onto each other's cheeks, mixing like rain water and gasoline.

Suddenly, you yank yourself from his grip, standing up and smoothing down your silky dress. Steve prepares himself for the yelling, the screaming, a slap that he most definitely deserves.

Instead, he's met with you, chest heaving, skin warm, eyes heavy. You're looking at him expectantly.

"Come with me," you croak, voice hoarse and untrustworthy.

You grab his hand and slink through the front door, up the grand staircase and into a room with a heavy oak door. He follows you obediently, confused but completely trusting.

It's your hotel room. A marriage suite. A spacious, windowed room, with makeup scattered across the vanity and suitcases half unpacked on the floor. The bed is still made, which makes Steve breathe a sigh of relief. He hasn't had you here. The room isn't marred.

The minute you shut the door you're back on Steve, shoving him up against the hard wood. He grabs handfuls of your ass and spins you around, backing you into the cold surface behind you for stability. He lifts you easily, wrapping your legs around his waist as he kisses you again.

Steve trails his lips down your neck as you rock your hips, desperate to find some friction. You whine gently, fingers tugging at his hair a little rougher than intended to get your message across.

"What do you need, honey?" he murmurs, afraid to disrupt the atmosphere.

"You."

Steve throws his head back as he groans, exposing his throat to you. You waste no time in nipping up the expanse of it, sinking your teeth in with no regard for the consequences. You're too far gone now, not worried about looking back.

Walking backwards, Steve tosses you onto the bed, chuckling when you almost bounce off of it. He unbuttons and strips his shirt, pulling his belt from the loops as he goes. You can only lie there and watch, wondering when your best friend became less of a boy and more of a man. He's all corded muscle and tanned skin, freckled and perfect.

Steve crawls between your legs, kissing you tenderly.

"Wanna take my time with you," he murmurs between kisses. "Can't right now. Will, though. Promise."

You feel as if there's electricity crackling across your skin, pulsing and alive. It's never felt like this with anyone. It never will again.

"Promise?"

You can't help the slight insecurity that colours your voice, young and unsure.

"I promise, Birdy. Cross my heart."

He takes your hand in his and places it over his chest, as if to solidify his point.

You nod and kiss him again, desperate to have every inch of his skin on yours.

Steve shimmies your underwear down your legs, tossing them behind him somewhere. Shucking his trousers off, he pushes your dress up and around your waist, groaning when he gets a good look at you.

"Prettiest girl in the world. He doesn't deserve you. Never did."

"And you do?"

"I'll spend every day for the rest of time proving that I do."

With that he's pushing into you, sliding home with one smooth thrust. Both of you gasp, grabbing onto the other person to use them as an anchor.

"Please, Steve," you're whispering. "Give me everything. I want it all."

"You've got no idea how long I've been waiting for this."

"I do," you laugh, "I do. Because I've been waiting just as long."

Steve chuckles and leans down to kiss you, slipping his tongue into your mouth to memorise the way you taste. There's remnants of champagne on your lips, along with the minty lip gloss you've loved for as long as he can remember.

He wastes no time setting a steady rhythm, thrusts deep and measured. You rake your nails down his back, clawing at this skin, praying silently that you leave your mark. Little do you know, you staked your claim on him a long, long time ago.

"S'good, Stevie," you whine. "Fuck, so good."

"Does he make you come? Does he even try?"

You shake your head frantically, closing your eyes when Steve laughs dryly.

"Didn't think so. He can't make you feel the way I can, baby. He'll never be able to."

His words are only pushing you closer and closer to the edge, red hot heat building at the pit of your stomach. Steve places one hand at the base of your throat, the heavy weight of it causing your eyes to roll back.

Your sweat slicked skin is plastered to his, every inch of you pressed together. Steve leans down to rest his forehead against yours, panting into each other's mouths.

"I love you," he breathes, hips getting quicker. "I love you. Fuck, I love you."

"I love you," you sob, back arching as you find your release. Stars dance across your vision as you tighten around Steve, nails leaving crescent moons on the skin of his shoulders.

Steve's right there with you, back flexing and fingers leaving their prints on your hips as he groans. It's the prettiest sound you've ever heard. Your mind loops it for you, playing it on repeat as he collapses his weight on top of your body.

"I meant it," he mutters against your damp chest. "I do love you. Always have."

You kiss his forehead gently, smoothing the hair away from his face.

"I meant it too. I love you. You taught me what love was in the first place, Steve."

He leans up to press his lips to yours, tender and honey sweet.

You realise the gravity of the situation all of a sudden, your heart rate increasing in Steve's ear.

"Hey, hey. Birdy. Don't panic, okay? We'll figure this out."

You think for a moment, weighing up your options in your head. Unexpectedly, you're jumping out of bed, fixing your dress and slipping on your underwear and heels.

"What are you doing, babe?"

You adjust your hair and swipe your fingers under your eyes to salvage your makeup in the mirror, turning to face the man who's now dressing himself frantically.

"Have you had a drink tonight?"

"No, I drove here."

"Perfect."

You grab your purse and stand by the door, waiting for him to follow. When he looks at you in pure confusion, you chuckle.

"Let's run away."

"Birdy... what?"

"Steve. You heard me. Let's. Run. Away."

He scans your face for any sign of hesitation, but all he finds is love. Adoration. Assuredness. That's all the confirmation he needs.

He runs at you, picking you up and spinning you around. Grabbing his hand, the two of you sneak down the stairs, slipping out of the front door as quietly as possible.

You throw yourself into the front seat of his BMW, vibrating with adrenaline as Steve starts up the engine. It roars to life, and you're very aware that people are going to come looking for you.

But you don't care.

Steve links your fingers, resting your intertwined hands in his lap as he reverses. You go to look back towards the garden, but you stop yourself.

"Can't move forward if you're always looking back, right?"

Steve laughs, leaning over to kiss your warm cheek.

"Truer words have never been spoken, Birdy."

He brings the car to a stop before you begin down the winding driveway, looking at you carefully.

"You ready?"

You take a deep breath, grinning at him.

"I've been ready since we were five years old."

He smiles at you, bright and blinding, and there's no doubt in your mind that you've made the right choice.

Can't move forward if you keep looking back, after all.

@enigmaticloki @joekeerysslut @s-trawberryv-eins @wintressoldier36 @mangomastani

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jeon-ify · 8 months

Text

NASTY- SONG MINGI (18+)

yeah i want you to get nasty,

do that thing you know i like, no one’s watching

warnings: read and find out. 18+.

FRIDAY

“welcome in, guys! what brings you in today?” the salesman asks. mingi’s been busy with schedules, realizing that he hasn’t seen you much, nor has he gotten to do anything he really wanted to do.

today was the day he’d spoil you. you didn’t want to go out, but mingi insisted that he’d blow all his money on whatever you wanted today since ‘my money is yours.’

the first place you went to was YSL. you bought a pair of the classic YSL heel, mingi letting you swipe his card the minute you picked up the pair. he stood and watched you try on the shoe, in admiration of how well deserved you are of everything good in the world. it was his love language— gift giving.

“what do you think, baby? do my feet look weird?” you observed your foot, making sure that your gold anklet matched the shoe. you never took off that anklet, you’ve had it on since the first time you spent your birthday with mingi.

“no, baby. i think they suit you really well. makes you look so elegant, my love.” he kneels before you, holding your foot and caressing your bare and smooth calves. his dimples rise to peek at you, making your skin crawl in arousal.

“thank you. i think i’m gonna get these, then.” you put them back in the silk bag they were once in, and handed them to the salesman. you put your shoes back on, walking over to the register to swipe your boyfriend’s black card.

“baby, you really don’t have to be my sugar daddy all the time.”

“stop questioning how i show my love. plus, you deserve it, don’t you, pretty girl?” he’s holding your bags, letting you walk free-handedly around the mall.

“i do.” you continue a conversation, only to notice that you’re not getting any responses. you catch mingi staring at the lingerie store on your left side, realizing that he’s hard, too.

“baby, we have to come in here. go try some things on and call me to the back so i can see them.” he holds your hand, guiding you into the store as he steps back and waits outside for you to call.

you pick out a burgundy corset laced set with black diamonds lining the chest area, with the back exposed. attached was a knee strap that had dangling diamonds dripping down your thigh, while the other thigh was left blank. you felt so sexy, almost like if you’d called mingi back here, he’d rip it off and have to pay for it before you’d even get to decide if you like it or not. nonetheless, you finish putting on the thigh strap to complete the look, you call mingi’s phone and he comes to the 7th fitting room you chose. you chose the last and farthest room from the store, knowing how mingi is.

he slowly pulls the curtain, eyeing you up and down with his bottom lip sitting between his pearly whites. his mind runs a thousand miles an hour, feeling like he’s above the clouds and underground at the same time. he watches the way you breathe, the way your hair moves down your back when you take the deep breaths. he watches the way you stare into his eyes through the mirror, watching him slowly walk towards you and closing the curtain behind him.

“you like? i think this color suits me, don’t you think, mings?” you ask as you run your hands up your chest, admiring the way your cleavage sits in the top.

mingi doesn’t respond. you catch him staring at the diamonds down your thigh, and down to the gold anklet hugging your ankle. his eyes move up to your perked ass, then right back down to your thigh. it’s something about your thighs that mingi could never get enough of. the smoothness and the way they feel around his head when he’s devouring your pussy.

“you can’t rip this off me, yet, mingi. i like it and i wanna get it. you can fuck me later. you know i can read your mind.” you chuckle. he breathes, his hand moving to travel up your waist and up to your neck to push you onto his body. your head is thrown back onto his shoulder, watching him through the mirror as he kisses down your neck.

“but baby, you look so nasty. you look so fuckable. like i wanna cum on your face and let you squish my face with your thighs while you wear this thigh strap you have on.”

he pulls on the elastic, only to snap it onto the skin. you gasp, he squeezes your throat tighter and kisses your temple.

“get dressed, i’ll pay for this and we’re going home.” he unties the corset from the back, then kneels to unclip the strap on your thigh. you slide the corset off, taking your clothes from mingi’s hands as he steps out and pays for the set.

mingi grabs the rest of your bags and you both head out of the building as soon as you can. mingi could not wait any longer to fuck you in your new set.

•

SATURDAY

“mingi, please go make me pancakes. i’m too lazy,” you whine. you really don’t feel like doing anything at all this evening. you craved pancakes at 7:00pm, mingi being wide awake and already in the kitchen.

“you’re so lazy. but yes, i will make you some pancakes, lovey. how many do you want?” his bare back muscles flex with every move he made, his hair bouncing in its place.

“like 4. but don’t drench them in syrup.”

“fine.”

“thank you.”

as you downed your last pancake, mingi watched you get up and put your plate in the sink and wash your hands. you wore his basketball shorts and your tanktop, along with a pair of black socks. your feet were cold, as you’d just moved in and you’re having trouble with your heat.

and so was mingi.

he watched the way your ass and hips moved whenever you walked anywhere. he stared at your waist and how your long hair covered your back. he felt himself getting rock hard as he remembered the scene in the fitting room yesterday evening.

he called you over to him before you sat down across from him.

“y/n. come here.” he motioned for you to sit on his lap, not thinking about breaking eye contact with you.

“where did you put that red set we bought yesterday, hm? tell me darling, when are you gonna wear it?” he runs his pretty fingers up the back of your thighs, landing a sharp spank on your left cheek.

“well we just bought it yesterday. i’ll put it on soon.”

“i think you should go upstairs and put it on. now.”

you, without a doubt, run up the stairs and pull out the set from your closet. you slide on the strap lastly, making sure it sat in the right spot.

as you finish putting on the set, mingi walks up the stairs and into the room, closing and locking the door behind him.

“fuck, all this for me? do you understand how lucky i am? guys would be on their knees for you in a second. but i get to have you and see you like this.”

he slowly moves towards you at the edge of the bed, lifting your chin up to maintain eye contact with you while he slides his hand through your thighs.

“i would never let anyone see me the way you do, mingi. i’m all for you. i belong to you.”

you could’ve sworn you just heard him moan. you feel his breath hitch under his touch, sweat forming around his orange hairline. he leans down to kiss you, nothing but tongue and teeth. he pulls away to catch his breath as his eyes are rolled back.

“that’s right, you belong to me. now, lay back for me, ‘m gonna taste your pretty pussy. want you to squeeze my head with your pretty thighs.”

as your body reacts to his deep toned silk voice, you lay back onto the bed, feeling mingi following you, planting kisses all over your chest. he kisses on the corset with his wet lips, falling in love with your body in every lifetime.

you are mingi’s ride or die. though it sounds cliche, mingi cannot live without you. he comes home around 2am after a long day at work, and you understand him. he wishes things were different with his idol life and his personal life, but you make up for it. he loves you more than anything in his life. in fact, you may be the only thing he does love.

these thoughts cloud mingi’s brain as he admires and worships your body tonight, tears enveloping his precious eyes.

“mings, why are you crying? is something wrong?” you sit up on your elbows, your left hand caressing his cheek while he kisses your lower stomach through the burgundy fabric.

“i fucking love you. i would die for you. you don’t understand that i cannot physically live without you, baby. you’re so beautiful, i don’t know what to do.” he lifts your thighs and places them on his shoulders while he kneels on the floor at the edge of the bed, kissing the insides of your legs, and to unbutton the bodysuit with his pearly white teeth.

“mingi, i love you. i love you so fucking much, i can’t imagine being with anyone else.” you moan out as he licks a stripe up your bare pussy, your thighs immediately shutting around his head as the diamonds on the strap poke his temples.

“you taste so beautiful. would rather die than never have this pussy again, my love. open up for me.”

as he continues to eat you out, he plunges his long, thick fingers into your heat and you finish all over his hand and wrist. he licks a long stripe from your pussy, gathering your cum and his drool. he brings his face closer to yours as you open your mouth. he gathered the juices in his mouth as he spit them into yours, immediately swallowing and sticking your tongue out to show him that you’ve swallowed.

“good girl. my beautiful girl. i’m gonna fuck you now, let you feel my love.” he unzips his pants, tossing them somewhere in the room. he throws his glasses onto the nightstand by your bed, then takes the rest of his clothing off, leaving nothing but his silver chain with your initial on it.

he brings his palm up to your mouth so you’d spit in his hand, then he rubs it on the base of his cock. he pushes his cock into your heat, making you immediately gasp in response, still not used to his size.

“fuck! mingi, you’re so big, i d-“ you claw at his lower stomach, clenching your thighs and scratching his hips with the black diamonds on the strap.

“baby, you’ve taken me hundreds of times, what’s changed?” he slowly pushes into you, using his question to distract you from his size ripping you open.

“i- fuck, fuck fuck! baby, oh my god—“ you cry out, mingi’s thrusts already picking up the pace. he doesn’t hesitate to thrust at his own speed, knowing that you’ve taken him hundreds of times, but you were extra sensitive today.

mingi took your wrists in his hands, using them to hold you onto his dick while he pounds into you deeper. he lifts you up as your legs wrap around his tiny waist. he feels like he’s on cloud 9, with the way you’re gripping his length.

“feel it. feel how much i fucking love you. how much i’d do for you. how much i’d lose for you.” he lets you go as you fall loosely back onto the bed. he comes down to spoil your mouth with his sloppy kisses, breathing in your moans and cries.

“mingi, i love you! i love you so fucking much, baby. you belong to me and i belong to you,” you cry out. you feel so blissful in a moment like this with mingi. its rough, its raw, its real. his love language always spoke its full dialect to you, while he showed how sorry he was for the lost time.

“do that thing i like, baby. grip my dick, make me cum.” his head is thrown back while he fiddles and tugs at your thigh strap. he feels your pussy gripping his length, unintentionally, since you’re already about to cum.

“fuck! fuck, stop, i’m gonna cum.” he gasps. you’ve already opened a gate and you do not want to close it. so, you grip onto his cock again, harder this time. he groans louder, coming down to wrap his pretty hand around your throat. he fucks into you rapidly, chasing his orgasm just as much as you chase your third one of the night.

“you’re still fucking me and you’re not using the safeword. i don’t think you want me to stop, mings.” you smirk at him, almost mocking his submissive demeanor.

“you’ll kill me one of these days, yet i feel so fucking alive with you. feels so good.” his pace comes to a halt, slowing down and twitching inside your ovaries.

“cum in me, mings. wanna feel your cum all in me.” you contract around him again. he comes down to kiss you, then sucks on your bottom lip, pulling away with a pop as he finishes in you.

“my god, baby. you’re fucking phenomenal. i love you.” he pulls out, plopping down on the spot beside you. you both give each other a few minutes before getting up.

a few minutes pass as mingi regains himself, he flips you over to untie the corset, letting your lungs finally breathe the air you needed. he unclips the strap on your thigh, putting it on the nightstand as keeps for the next time he wants to fuck you again. he walks over to the bathroom, soaking a towel with extra warm water to clean you up.

he turns you over and lifts your thigh to wipe the juices around your inner thighs, then plants a kiss on the cleaned area.

“the things i would do for you, my love.”

#Spotify #kpop smut #kpop #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez smut #song mingi x reader #mingi ateez #mingi fluff #ateez mingi #mingi scenarios #mingi x reader #mingi smut #song mingi #mingi icons #mingi #m: mingi

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crusty-chronicles · 10 months

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Hiei Courting Headcannons

In honor of the Live Action series (Even though I don't Have High Hopes For It)

Now, we all know Hiei is a very stubborn demon. Especially when it comes to his feelings. When he realized he liked you and didn't just tolerate your presence, he fought hard to deny it.

So what if he spent most of his time with you? Who cares that the first place he goes to after coming back from the demon world is your house? It didn't matter that his eyes seemed to soften whenever you were around.

No not one bit.

But the second Kurama threatened to court you himself, well Hiei couldn't just sit down and let that happen. Didn't that fox understand he shouldn't touch what wasn't his.

1. Showing off to see if you're interested

Hiei may be a demon, but he has some semblance of manners. His pride wouldn't allow him to claim you until you accepted his advances. Any creature who dared force themselves onto another was the lowest of the lowest.

So, his first step is showing off during fights.

Letting the enemy bloody him up more to show that injury didn't affect him.

Using more spirit energy than was needed to end another demon with just one blow

Stopping you from fighting because he'll "take care of it. You humans are too fragile."

He'll also use his Jagan more frequently.

You lost something?

Well look no further, he can track it down precisely and easily.

Praise him even once or say in passing he's really strong, and he'll take that as you being interested.

Even if you're just trying to be nice.

2. Wearing Richer Colors

I firmly believe Hiei courts more like a crow than the usual beast. He's sleek like one anyways.

Now if you didn't know, most birds attract mates with their bright feathers.

In Hiei's case, he'll start to wear dark, yet rich colors to get your attention.

Strength is one thing. Any low-class demon can demonstrate strength and be happy about it.

What Hiei is looking for is to see if you're attracted to him. If you find him visually appealing.

Though he's not a vain creature, he still yearns for the confirmation that him and him alone captivates you.

He'll start with darker blues. Maybe change up his cloak a little.

And when that doesn't work, he moves onto purples. Getting teased by Kurama for 'changing up his style.' But he stays determined.

Eventually moving onto a burgundy. And the way you were immediately drawn to him then made it worth it.

Relishing in your compliments on how 'the color really suits him' and 'it matches his eyes perfectly.'

Letting you grab at the fabric and inspect it until he asks why you like it so much.

"Well I always thought your eyes were pretty. It's nice to see something that reminds me of them."

He's a prideful smug bastard after that. Not even comments from Yusuke can tick him off that day.

3. Bringing You Shiny Objects

Once again, he courts like a crow.

Now that you've shown interest in him, it's time to properly start showing his affections.

Hiei isn't one for flirting or compliments. He's more prone to showing rather than telling. And in this case the way to do that is to bring you little trinkets that catch his eye.

Usually, it'll be small gems he stumbles across in demon world.

Rubies, diamonds, and emeralds. All things he knows where to find thanks to his prior occupation as a thief.

He's not trying to buy your affection. He knows you're not that vain judging by the pushback you always give when he presents you with a jewel.

No, rather he's trying to show that he can provide for you. That you'd never have to worry about scrounging around to survive as long as he was with you.

A protector and a provider.

He also notices how you treasure the less valuable items with as much fondness and care as the others.

He had asked you why you slept with a chunk of pyrite on your bedside one time. And your response let him know he wouldn't give up on pursuing you anytime soon.

"Because it was one of the first things you gave me. Don't you remember? You said something along the lines of fool's gold for a fool's heart. I think it's sweet you even got me something at all."

You didn't care about what he brought you. All that mattered was that it came from him.

If that didn't mean you accepted his advances, then he didn't know what would.

4. Scenting

Ah, yes. Back to the classics

Once you've accepted the gifts he's continuously given you, Hiei takes it as you liking him back.

He's aware human and demon courting processes are very different from one another.

But he's exactly not human, is he?

When it comes to demons, once you've accepted their advances, your mates.

In a sense, it's like dating. Only except a dissatisfied partner will kill the other in most cases.

With this in mind, Hiei happily accepts the fact you're his and immediately moves onto the final stage of courting.

Scenting you so that other demons know to back off.

Think of it as your last out if you realize what's happening and actually don't have feelings for him.

The scenting process will start with Hiei showing up to your place of residence and staying with you.

Not yet following you around, but making sure to spend time in each room.

If he has to leave somewhere, he'll leave either an article of clothing or his sword.

It confuses you at first and you think maybe he just trusts you.

But you start to think otherwise when he starts getting touchy.

Laying in your lap and ordering you to stay still, only to find out he's fallen asleep on you.

Or letting his face rest against the crook of your neck. Which you didn't mind all that much.

It was quite funny to see someone as tough as Hiei become completely docile around you.

You weren't too worried until he followed you out when you went to buy groceries.

"You don't like being around people. Don't you wanna stay home until I get back?" You asked him.

"I've already shown you that you're a very fragile creature compared to me. It's best I accompany you so you don't hurt yourself."

Usually you would have argued back, but it was clear something was off with him.

These past few months had been strange with him either trying to get your attention or trying to stay directly next to you.

You wouldn't figure out what it was until your other three friends showed up.

Kuwabara wanting to have a movie night and you offering your home to do it.

When the three of them arrived, you noticed Kurama and Yusuke hesitate by the entrance.

"Something wrong?" You questioned.

" I can't put my finger on it, but something's telling me I shouldn't go in." Yusuke responded.

Unawares it was Hiei's scent warding him off.

But Kurama knew. He'd known since you opened the door.

It seems Hiei had staked his claim on you.

Yet judging by your calm demeanor, you didn't know that yet.

"Have you noticed Hiei acting strange lately?" Kurama asked.

"Yes! I thought I was the only one. He's been really clingy. I mean at first it was odd he kept bringing me stuff like gems, but then he started following me around like a house cat. It's endearing, but honestly what's going on with him?" You ranted. Prompting a laugh from the redhead.

"I see. Good luck on your new relationship."

Before you could question him about what he meant, a gentle grip around your waist stopped you.

"What're you doing inviting these fools to our home. You know how long it took me to get rid of their scent the first time? It's like you want me to start the whole courting process all over again."

Courting?

Oh.

You couldn't say you minded now that you knew what was actually going on.

#yu yu hakusho x reader #hiei yu yu hakusho #hiei jaganshi #hiei x reader #x reader #yyh hiei #hiei courting headcannons

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mrs-trophy-wife · 1 year

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#Cartier #diamond bezel #diamond watch #Cartier watch #diamond #diamonds #red #burgundy #designer #luxury #fancy #classy #timepiece

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pjackk · 1 year

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In Tekken 8 there will be a new character named Windwhistle. He practices an MMA style fusion of BJJ and Mystical Tai Chi. He is 38 years old. He has a sexy skinny twunky body. He has defined very thin and abdomen. He has sexy muscular collar bone. He has a tight waist. His calves are defined but not huge. His nipples are a subtle dark apricot hue. His nipples are small and turn erect on final round. He was born in Cuba but he grew up in southern China. In his adulthood, he travelled to Northern Alberta to work in the tar sands. His areolas is large relative to other male characters. His skin is a lightly bronzed color. On his left forearm there is a tattoo of a sheep. On his right forearm there is a tattoo of a wolf. His cheekbones are very defined. His jaw is very defined. He has deep eye sockets in a sexy way. His eyes are beautiful. His eyes are shining. His left eye is a bloody burgundy hue. His right eye is a deep sea indigo hue. His hair goes down to his neck. His hair is dark and curly. His hair has a lime green streak that goes down the front. He is clean shaven. He loves techno music. He loves EDM music. He loves DNB music. He loves experimental drugs. He goes into full power fury mode after taking experimental drugs. His breasts are large and tender. His breasts are large enough to be firmly grabbed by other human adult males. His cock is 3" long flaccid. His cock is 7" long erect. His cock has a 3" girth flaccid. His cock has a 4" girth erect. His balls are average sized. His balls sag slightly in an alluring way. His ass is large and firm. His ass is spanked and red. He loves for his big ass to be spanked red. He wears black bootleg timberlands. He wears tall black socks that go up to his knees. He wears black cargo shorts that are tight and accentuate his big ass. The bottom of his ass cheeks show from under his shorts tight. He wears a black henley style shirt with buttons that go down to under his breasts. He keeps his shirt unbuttoned to show his breasts. His chest is hairy. His breasts are hairy. His abdomen is not very hairy. He has a trail of hair going up from his pubes to his belly button. He has his zipper and belt and button on his shorts undone to show his dark curly pubes. His thighs are hairy. His calves are hairy. You can see his armpits if you look down his sleeves. His armpits are hairy. His armpits are sweaty on the final round. He has a full throw game. He can wave dash. He has a comboing hellsweep with a maximum for 45 damage. Is df2 punch is safe and launches. He can use a 16 frame unblockable deagle shot high in heat mode. He eats a slice of galic chicken pizza and flips you off when he wins. He has a 1+2 break comboing throw that sets up an unblockable shuriken throw after bounding. He throws three shurikens in heat mode so that you cannot avoid them by sidestepping. He is knocked unconscious and drools on his breasts when he loses. He is loading his deagle and says "Let's burn it all down" in his intro animation. He wears a golden ring with a shattered bloodstone on his left pinky finger. His right ear is pierced. He wears a diamond stud on his right ear. He has an unusually long tongue. He loves RC cars. He has a taunt move where he erotically sucks on a dumdum. He has an armored headbutt move. If his armored headbutt move counter hits, he grabs the opponent and takes them all the way to the wall. He loves cartoons. He loves French style sandwiches. He loves candle wax being melted onto his tummy. He is implied to be Jin Kazama's father. He is implied to be Josie Rizal's ex husband. He is implied to be Jun Kazama's ex husband. He is implied to be Kazuya Mishima's ex husband. He is implied to be Craig Marduk's ex husband. He is implied to be Lili Rochefort's ex husband. He is implied to be Paul Phoenix's ex husband. He is implied to be Prototype Jack's ex husband. He is implied to be Sergei Dragunov's ex husband. He is implied to be Master Raven's ex hu

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shogunish · 6 months

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𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗴𝗼𝗷𝗼𝘀 & 𝗶. [𝟬𝟲]

synopsis. all that mattered was the taste of strawberries and whip cream on your lips and his hand caressing the nape of your neck.

words. 2.8k

warnings. none

note. IT'S FINALLY HERE 🥳 i hope you guys have as much fun reading this chapter as i had writing it 🥹🥹

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as you thought, you didn’t belong to these sorts of people.

grandeur surrounded you like the sea encapsulated an island in the middle of nowhere.

men dressed in expensive suits filled the dimly-lit hall with their wives hanging on to their arms like the finest jewelry. waiters and waitresses alike steered their way through the crowd with practiced ease and grace in their feet all while carrying a silver platter around, giving champagne away like candy and offering little treats.

such things were foreign; you only had seen such things on tv and for a moment, you felt somewhat intimidated by the sheer scent of money in the air. sometimes, you forgot that satoru worked for a great company, enjoying a high ranking and an even greater paycheck if his tailored suit was anything to go by.

“you look amazing,” satoru reassured you with a whisper in your ear. “don’t be afraid. i’ll be with you all the way.”

and his words did soothe your worries, but not the rapid pounding in your heart. maybe you wouldn’t feel so light-headed if satoru didn’t wear this damned suit and didn’t add a hint of his cologne on his neck and wrists. even his hair was styled and you swore you had suffered a heart attack when you first laid your eyes on him.

smoothly, with your palms clasped around his arm, satoru guided you through the crowd like he had never done anything else. a pinch of pride shone in his eyes; not only did you look stunning, but you also wore the dress he had picked for you.

“it’s too expensive,” you had argued with a pout on your lips when you saw the price tag still attached to the graceful thing. “i can’t possibly wear that.”

and look at you now, turning the heads of his colleagues as he showed up with you.

like a ship in the vast sea, satoru steered you from person to person just to exchange some pleasantries and introduce you to those he worked with for the majority of the time. to your surprise, it was easier than you initially believed. occasionally, he even snuck a little snack from the platters and shared the small treats with you.

it was at these times that your satoru shone through the cracks of the styled businessman in your hands.

everything was going smoothly until your not-date date suddenly got stolen away by some chubby business man in his fifties and drowned in the sea of people and lights and grandeur.

“satoru?” you called out softly, worry in your eyes when you realized he wouldn’t hear you over the soft tunes spilling from the speakers.

damnit.

how hard was it to find a 1,90m man with white hair and dazzling blue eyes in a crowd of people? yeah, you were surprised as well when you found out it was indeed hard.

heels clacked against the polished marble floor when you found yourself at the bar, giving up on finding satoru for the time being. next to you, three ladies chatted amongst themselves. draped in diamonds and silver, they gleamed in the dim lighting of the grand hall like they were gems themselves. their eyes found yours when they appeared to recognize you.

“oh, you have to be gojo’s date for tonight, right?” lady #1 chirped in kind and mildly surprised tones. you recognized her; she was the wife of one of the businessmen satoru had introduced you to earlier. at least one face was somewhat familiar.

“i think it’s the first time gojo brought a woman with him, right?” the second lady added with a glass of champagne in her manicured fingers.

you perked up. “excuse me? the first time? i fear i don’t quite follow..”

lady #3 sat back in the bar stool and flashed you a smirk, her lips painted a deep burgundy as she spoke, “gojo’s never shown up in the company of another woman. many have tried to become his plus one, but he always brushed them off.”

“yeah, you should’ve seen everyone’s faces when he first started talking about you and how well you get along with his son. lots of hearts were broken that afternoon,” lady #1 giggled as your face fell into disbelief.

sure, you suspected that satoru was popular with the ladies. not only was he handsome to the bone, but he could provide a stable life, he was funny, charming, smart and– you were getting carried away.

before a response could make it out, the topic suddenly shifted when one of the ladies realized she hadn’t shown off her newest necklace which glimmered and split the lights into the colors of the rainbow.

at this moment, you realized that you truly didn’t belong in the same boat as them when they talked about tiffany’s jewelry, mansions, vacations in malaysia and venice. the topic of satoru and his lack of female company was wiped clean from the shared canvas of their mind and was instead painted with problems and luxuries you couldn’t even dream of having.

luxury meant for you ordering takeout twice a month when the delivery app had some sort of sale going on.

satoru’s strong arm wraps itself around you like a blanket of comfort as he sweeps into the conversation with one of his charming smiles. the eyes of those women were as drawn to satoru like a flock of moths to the flame as he spoke in soft, suave tones that had even your heart beating a tad bit faster. a bit harder.

“excuse me, but i fear i must steal my lovely lady from you.” satoru flashed them a gentle smile and left the women giggling amongst themselves as he guided you towards the balcony, away from all the hustle and bustle, away from unnecessary attention that wasn’t his.

the moon hung high in the sky in its entirety, filling out the dark heavens above as it watched over countless twinkling dots. below the balcony railing, city lights glimmered in bright neon colors. streets were alive with as many people as there were stars in the sky and yet all of them seemed so far away when you finally breathed.

“sorry.” satoru broke the beat of silence before he combed his fingers through his snowy hair. leaning against the steel railing, he looked handsome. the moonlight caressed his features with the touch of a lover while those cerulean irises bathed in the infinity of the skies. or so you thought. “i didn’t expect anyone to need my attention tonight when it was reserved for you."

heat rose to the apples of your cheeks and suddenly, your heart was pounding underneath your ribs. this feeling budding in the core of your heart was blooming with each word satoru said. especially tonight.

there was no child to take care of. no stomach aches that made you feel horrible.

in this little corner, you found a glimpse of paradise with satoru by your side.

“don’t worry about it,” you said, resting your elbows on the railing and letting your eyes drift towards satoru like he was pulling you into his orbit. “you must be really important when you’re stolen away from me in the blink of an eye.” up until this moment, satoru didn’t know that a chuckle could be like silk in the form of sound and dribble into his ears like warm honey.

leaning closer to you, satoru bumped his shoulder against yours – or rather his biceps. even slumped over, he was still taller than you.

“so tell me, have you been gossipping about me while i was gone?” it was a light-hearted joke, you knew, and still you had half the heart to let satoru know that you would never talk about him behind his back.

you shook your head, eyes crinkling at the edges as you gave satoru a smile. “not about you. but they had a lot to say about their men.”

that seemed to pique satoru’s curiosity if his cheeky grin and the twitch of his ears was anything to go by. a funny look was painted all over your face; one that made satoru only more curious than he already was.

“don’t look at me like that.” he almost pouts. almost. “you can’t just say you got some juicy details on my colleagues and then seal your lips shut.”

fuck. if anything, you wanted him to seal your lips shut. ever since you had laid your eyes on satoru, dressed in that tailored suit which accentuated the slimness of his waist..your thoughts decided to wander and they wouldn’t be coming back any time soon.

“my man and i argued and he got me a tiffany’s necklace. my man gifted me this dress, my man gave me this, my man gave me that,” you mocked voices, tone going up by a pitch before you ended the show with a sigh slipping past your lips. those ladies weren’t bad people, but gods were they exhausting. “it felt like a competition.”

“what, don’t tell me you’re jealous.” a teasing lilt lingered in satoru’s voice. he couldn’t wipe the smirk off his face when you shivered and pouted your glossy lips. if only you were his..he’d pin you against the railing and kiss you stupid until your lipgloss was smeared all over his lips.

“of them? never.” shifting your weight from one foot to the other, you leaned your weight against satoru’s strong frame and basked in the way his warmth seeped through the fine fabric of his suit and into your pores, keeping you warm and toasty. “i don’t need fancy things to have a happy relationship.”

acting on auto-pilot, satoru rested his arm around your waist and pulled you a little tighter against him. “well..what would you need to be happy?”

now that was a question you had never given much thought. the only answer that you could come up with sparked the butterflies in your tummy to life. right then and there, you swore you were a silly teenager again who had come face to face with her crush and there was nowhere to hide.

you didn’t know if the goosebumps on your skin came from the pounding of your heart or the chilly breeze passing by.

“..maybe someone who can communicate his feelings. someone who’s fun but can be serious when the time calls for it. someone who buys me a year worth of pads and prepares a hot water bottle for me. someone who eats so many sweets that it’s a miracle he doesn’t have diabetes yet.”

usually, satoru would like to tease you and say something so cheesy that you were certain you’d regret opening up to him, but he just looked at you with those infinitely deep eyes that glimmered in the moonlight. his hold around your waist tightened.

“you know, i think i’d also be happy with someone who gets along with megumi and doesn’t know how to use my stove. someone who laughs when i buy all the pads with wings and dozes off on my shoulder. someone who brought cookies when she asked if she could help me watch over megumi.”

a smile, that of a lovestruck fool, graced satoru’s lips as you stared at him with round eyes and shock written all over your face. for a moment, he feared you’d ask “me?” like you didn’t even dare to think that satoru could be into you when it was so painfully obvious that it was you.

the moment he saw you standing at his door with that batch of cookies in your hands, he knew it was you.

“gojo, there you are! there’s that man i wanna introduce you to.” one of his colleagues popped the intimate bubble satoru had carefully crafted for the two of you. bubbles were meant to pop eventually, but this was probably the worst timing ever. “oh, you can bring your girlfriend, too! he’ll be delighted to see her!”

this was the hellish equivalent of getting cock-blocked, he thought.

apologies swam in the irises of satoru’s eyes as he furrowed his brows and let out a defeated sigh. he would get his chance. and it’d be tonight.

“shall we?” satoru offered you a hand which you gratefully took before he led you back inside.

an hour or two later, you found your arms looped around satoru’s biceps as he escorted you back home. street lamps lined up next to the concrete going through the park illuminated the space around you, adding a golden glow to satoru, to you, to the feelings that wouldn’t stop growing.

you only took a break on a bench when you mentioned the ache in your feet. walking around in heels for an entire evening, for hours on end, was not one of your many (hidden) talents.

words of memories past fell from your lips like honey as you recalled something about you changing shoes in the middle of an important event.

if satoru was honest to himself, he wasn’t truly paying attention to what you were saying. he did add an occasional hum of approval or offered a chuckle, but what he really focused on was the glimmer in your eyes, the sound of your voice, the way your hair fell. you were imperfect, he knew, but to him, you were perfect for him from head down to your pinky toe.

he wanted it all. he wanted it all for himself.

“..and then there was– oh.” following your line of sight, satoru spotted a small food stall illuminated from within and occupied by an elderly lady who seemed to be distracted by the malfunctioning radio. but that wasn’t what stood out – it was the strawberry crepes being sold.

“you want some, don’t you?” satoru chuckled, cerulean eyes glowing even in the dim lights of the street lamps lined up right beside the two of you.

“how did you know?” you inquired with curiosity laced in your voice.

shrugging his shoulders, satoru smirked. “you’ve been with megumi and me for a while now. it’d be a shame if i didn’t know what you wanted just from a glance.”

you couldn’t protest when satoru already strolled over to the elderly lady and ordered two strawberry crepes. gladly, the lady prepared the sweet treat and even added some extra whipped cream for satoru as if she could sense his sweet tooth. within mere ten minutes, the crepes were done, warm and adorned with ripe slices of scarlet strawberries.

sauntering back to you, satoru handed you your crepe, sat down right next to you and enjoyed the first bite which was as messy as it was sweet. a frown was etched onto satoru’s features as he dropped a strawberry onto the ground. a sweet treat forever lost and never to be savored as god intended.

taking note of satoru’s misery, you offered him one of your strawberries with a gentle smile adorning the curve of your lips. “here. you can have mine.”

“are you sure? it’s your strawberry after all.” who would’ve known that an insignificant thing such as a strawberry would bring a blush to his cheeks? sky blue eyes blinked once, twice at the fruit between your fingers before settling on your face. this was the chance he had been waiting for all evening, he realized.

“you’ve got some whipped cream on your lips.”

“huh?” hastily, you rushed to wipe your lips with your index finger and when you were done, you lifted your face again for further inspection. “is it gone?”

oh, how sweet you were. amused, satoru shook his head. “no. right there.”

nimble fingers tilted your face upwards while cerulean irises gazed into the cracks of your soul as satoru leaned in, closed the gap and sealed your lips with his own.

for a moment, your muscles froze. was this truly happening? was satoru actually kissing you? or was this another one of your daydreams right before he dropped you off at your doorstep? no, it was better than a mere daydream – it was reality.

fingertips twitched, needing to hold his face, his shoulders, anything. but before you could even lift a finger, satoru pulled away with a smile on his soft lips and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “this is much better than a strawberry.”

like a fish, you were left gaping at the man who just kissed you with the care of a lover. you wanted to say yes a thousand times over, but not a single words made it past your lips. satoru liked you, that much you knew. he had said so himself earlier that evening and yet, you were still left speechless like a canvas that was waiting to be painted with his love and kisses.

“it is,” you finally breathed, set aside your crepe and cupped satoru’s cheeks as you pulled him in for another sweet kiss.

lips melted into each other like candle wax as they danced with each other, explored and got to know each other all over again. no words were needed to explain the feeling, now in full bloom, engulfing you and satoru like a cocoon.

all that mattered was the taste of strawberries and whip cream on your lips and his hand caressing the nape of your neck.

taglist. @torusmochi, @cinnamonmon, @risuola, @ayanominitrash, @lordbugs, @phoenix666stuff, @hotvinimon, @stevenknightmarc, @sukunasleftkneecap, @erigaur , @lu-lynds, @staryukis

#gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru fluff #fic. the gojos & i

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naffeclipse · 8 months

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What would SJ eclipse be like as a Naga? 👀 absolutely terrifying, I'm sure lmao!! Also, what would SJ! Eclipse think of the photographer? Mashing aus so hard right now I'm frothing at the mouth 😭😭

Oh no. Naga SJ Eclipse is just as terrible as a four-arm Eclipse! He shouldn't be given any more means to grab and bruise you than he already has smh

That being said—

He has black and burgundy scales with red markings like diamonds full of warning up and down his tail. The frills adorning his head are dark and terrifying, like a poisonous black-blue flower. He's powerful, swift, and precise with his kills.

He doesn't think much of the photographer; an easy meal. That is until he realizes you are more respectful of the jungle and the creatures than most humans, and he watches how you stare in quiet reverence at the forces at work around you. You intrigue him. Mostly, he wants to see how quickly he can break you. Which, to his chagrin, isn't as easy as he suspects it to be.

With you, he's obsessed. He hates that you're not bending under his will despite your fear. Your every encounter with him involves you being tugged and twisted around like a little doll made to dance. His strength is terrifying. His size is overwhelming. He'll trap you in his coils until you stop squirming—until you learn that you can't keep fighting because if you do, he'll crush you.

That's the threat he likes to snarl. The promise chills your very marrow.

He leaves you bruised when you try to talk back to him and keep attempting to escape his claws. His loops twist around you just enough to give you a half-second of panic, unable to fill your lungs enough to breathe, but he loosens his grip before you choke. This, however, leaves the skin over your ribs colored in deep violets and indigo splatters. You're afraid he wants to see what he's done—his claws trace the bottom of your shirt, searching.

If he's feeling generous enough, he'll grab you by the wrists and drag you closer, close enough to hiss in your ear that he wouldn't have to be so rough if you behaved. He has a particularly nasty habit of grabbing your chin when you refuse to look at him. His hellish orange eyes flash when you whimper or gasp, but it's not enough—he wants you under his thumb. You'll give in. You'll see that the only way is his way.

#rip the photographer it was nice knowing them #he can be worse #so so much worse #sleuth jesters eclipse #naga!eclipse #great now i'm frothing at the mouth #augh this man someone turn him into noddle soup #naff writing #sj naga eclipse au #the serpent den

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kentopedia · 9 months

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ SHADES OF RED — nanami kento

summary . . . kento tries to move on, but he sees you in every shade of red

contents . . . ex-boyfriend nanami, nanami pov, f!reader, reader is only mentioned but she loves the color red, suggestive part at the end, kento has a new gf but :/ he wants you bad — 700 words

notes . . . erm this is so self indulgent btw ! everyone around me laughs at me for only getting my nails done the color red and this was born bc i got my nails done today. in my yearning!kento era ig <33 he can miss us instead of the other way around smh

kento had never considered himself a sentimental man.

he’d always had the keen ability to let go of things easily—or, at least, to let go of them without too much regret. he’d never been overly emotional about things that served as reminders to his past. kento could’ve passed his childhood home and, sure, he’d feel a twinge of nostalgia. but it was one that he’d get over once he was out of the neighborhood, on his way to something different, somewhere better.

perhaps, it was a lack of sentimentality, or perhaps his future orientation was just a mechanism to help him cope with the ever-changing thing he called life.

too bad that approach never worked when it came to you.

even after you broke up with him, kento saw you everywhere he went. four years together was too much time, and time wasn’t enough to wash away the smell of your perfume, the love letters you’d written that he’d shoved away. kento still had a few of your belongings you’d never come back for. pieces of jewelry you’d left behind, and he’d never been able to get rid of.

your pretty red lipstick still stained the corner of his sofa, the tiny little smear where you’d accidentally dropped the tube.

you’d apologized, embarrassed, so flustered he thought you might cry. but he’d only laughed instead, pushed the cap back on, and kissed the lipstick right back off your face.

it had been his fault anyways.

your golden bracelet still hung with his watches, interlaced with rubies and diamonds. an anniversary gift he’d gotten you, and one that you’d thrown at him angrily when you finally left him.

there was a red ribbon in the center console of his car, one that he’d left there in case you ever forgot a hair tie.

there were reminders of you everywhere, there was red everywhere. the color of the passion, and the color of the fiery love that had burned bright between you.

he saw you everywhere…

even in his new girlfriend.

the first time gojo met her, he told kento how much she looked like you. maybe a little bit taller, her hair a little bit different. her lips were wider, eyes a slightly different shade.

still, the similarities were striking. and she’d never know.

besides all of the red, kento had erased whatever traces of you he could find, kept them locked up in a pretty burgundy box that was tucked away in his closet.

and maybe she was similar to you in appearance, but she was gentler, softer, and she had an affinity for shades of pink. a light rose color was her favorite.

she probably thought that it bothered him, the obvious sign of femininity taking over his apartment. but kento appreciated that the lacy ribbons she left lying around, the lingerie sets, were much lighter than the color you’d tended towards.

“kento,” she interrupted his stream of thought, as he stared at the splotch of maroon on his sofa, remembering how you’d stained his cheeks the same color.

he hummed. it’d been nearly six months since he’d seen you last. it’d seemed like longer.

he shouldn’t miss you this much.

he did, though.

“i’m thinking of getting my nails done.” his new girlfriend—the one that looked like you but wasn’t you—stretched her hands out, looking at the chipped pastel pink at the end of her nails. half of the paint was gone.

“okay,” he said, shrugging. shades of pink, she lived in. it’d be a shade of pink again.

she looked at her fingers, scrutinizing them like she wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. “i’m not sure it’d suit me, but… what do you think of red?”

kento’s eyes had drifted over, and for a moment, he contemplated a protest. it didn’t suit her. she was a gentle, sweet soul. her voice soft, words loving—she was pink.

then, he remembered the softness of your palm over his thigh, your fingers threaded in his hair. nails longer, filed perfectly, a beautiful red color painted onto them.

he missed you.

he felt guilty for his answer.

“sure, honey,” kento said, smiling. “that’s pretty.”

when she came home later, kento had pulled her into the bedroom, turned off the lights, the room dark already with the sun that had set. her hands were smaller than yours, fingers more slender, but the color of her nails was the same.

he could imagine your hands between his legs, stroking him lovingly. and kento had to seal his lips tightly to keep your name from spilling from them when he imagined you instead of her.

“mmm,” his new girlfriend had muttered, snuggling into his side. kento stared at the ceiling, sick with longing. “i love you. night, kento.”

he didn’t answer.

when she was asleep, kento climbed out of bed, padded to the kitchen with his phone in his hand. it was past midnight, but you tended to stay up later, a book on your lap, with some form of red on the cover.

his finger hovered over your name; there used to be a red heart next to it, and he wanted to put it back.

he wondered if this would just be another one of those times where his calls went unanswered. or, maybe, this time, you’d pick up.

kento didn’t care anyway.

he pressed the call button.

#idk it's long enough so i guess i'll add tags #i’m sorry #kento nanami x reader #jjk x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #kento nanami x you #nanami x reader #jjk x fem!reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #xoxo rylie 💌 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆#kento 💋 ⋆ ˚｡⋆#xoxo rylie 💌 ⋆ ˚｡⋆

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domainedewinter · 3 months

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The Price of Fire 1/4

The fire that shines under the moon

Summary: Aemond meets a mysterious silver-haired girl on the beach while facing Vhagar. Solving mysteries is an intellectual game he loves to play and what a magnificent mystery he now has in his hands.. Unbowed, unbent, unbroken, hm?

Warnings: DUBCON, TYPICAL TARGARYEN INCEST, profanity, innuendo, he/him pronouns, you pronoun, fingering, oral m receiving, oral f receiving, misogyny, toxic behaviour, Dom!Aemond, begging, underage HOTD style, nsfw.. (coming soon, I will indicate the chapters containing smut with a 🔥)

Rating: 18+, MDNI

English is not my first language

If your life has always been beautiful, bathed in opulence and pleasure, your birth remains a mystery nonetheless. As you look at yourself this evening in the tall mirror of the room where you are staying during this journey, this thought crosses your mind once again.

You were still just a baby, a newborn, the day a man you know nothing about except that he was unpleasant to look at and had difficulty walking, offered you to your father with a lot of gold to leave the continent in the greatest secrecy. A wealthy and respected Dornishman, a Martell, who raised you as his own daughter, integrating you into his powerful family upon his return to Dorne and taking care to protect you as if the sky might one day open to take you back. When he couldn't sleep, he would look up at that same sky, scanning the horizon for a threat of which you knew nothing. Yet, with every dream of dragons, clouds, and storms that you shared with your father, he became increasingly vigilant.

It took a lot of persuasion to convince him to let you accompany him to the royal city, the same one he had always warned you about. But he had no choice, always preferring to know you were with him or with trusted people, like the family you had arrived at a few days earlier. And it was not without regret that your father had to leave for a week-long trip, leaving you alone here with your uncle and aunt who treated you like a diamond to be hidden from others' eyes. You never went out, and if you had to meet other people, it was always with a scarf to hide your hair, eyes downcast, so as not to reveal the lovely color of your eyes.

But tonight, awakened by yet another dream of growling, fire and the noise of wings flapping, you look at yourself, still sweaty, in the mirror. Your hair is long, slightly wavy, and moon-colored, as much as your eyes are a pale indigo, asking for answer you're craving to discover. You need to get some air, to be alone, far from this golden prison your father left you in. Gathering your courage, you climb out the bedroom window with grace and agility before slipping into the streets, guided only by your instinct and the sound of the waves calling you.

The sun has set for a while, but the night is surprisingly clear, the moon almost illuminating as if it were dawn. The crowded streets turn into alleys, then paths before your bare feet in Dornish-style sandals - like the rest of your outfit; mustard-colored pants slit at the thigh and a burgundy drape revealing your shoulders - touch the sand still warm from the day. You smile, sighing softly with pleasure and relief to be away from everything and everyone, until a strange noise, a purr or rather, a growl, draws you down to the sea.

It is not a rock, as you first thought, that stands there, but something alive. And enormous. As you approach, hand outstretched, curiosity getting the better of you, a huge eye opens not far from you, making you gasp in surprise. And it is not the only thing that opens; an huge maw with the smell of sulfur parts, an unknown but dangerous light emerging from its depths.

“Vhagar! No!”

The voice of a man makes you look up, waking you from the stupor that had paralyzed you upon seeing the creature open its maw before you, and not just any creature: a dragon.

“Who are you and why were you trying to attack my dragon? Do you seek death, little girl? Because Vhagar was about to grant your prayers!” says the voice again, a silhouette stepping between the monster and you, drawing your attention. This silhouette is none other than the prince to whom this dragon belongs, and you know this because your father has taught you. You know the princes and princesses of the great houses, the useful names, literature, philosophy, and religion too.

Tilting his head slightly to the side at your silence, the prince before you seems to be losing patience as you search for his name in your memory. You can see it in his one-eyed gaze, fixed on you. Not knowing what to do, and still somewhat shaken, you turn on your heels and start running, but the flight is short-lived for, after hearing footsteps behind you, you feel a grip on your arm, forcing you to stop your run and turn so quickly that you lose balance and fall backward. The sand cushions your fall, a gasp of surprise and pain escaping your lips as you find yourself pinned to the beach by him. You're not afraid and respond with courage, your thin eyebrows furrow and your gaze attempting to be threatening, even though the man questioning you doesn’t seem frightened at all.

“That is very rude, turning your back on a prince and refusing to obey, hm? Perhaps you are truly suicidal...”

He almost seems angry that you are so reckless, but you only struggle more, apparently unimpress by him.

"I wasn't trying to hurt your dragon, I just raised my hand to touch it, so let me go!" you reply with rage, kicking and wiggling your hips to free yourself, but Aemond holds on and has a clear physical superiority over you; the rigorous training he engaged in daily since the accident had sculpted his body fiercely and effectively.

However, despite all his hours of training with Cole and all the fighters he now beat, nothing had prepared him for such audacity from a woman, let alone one so young and in a definitely delicate position.

"Prince Aemond..." you murmur, your voice suddenly losing its courage as you recognize the man who has literally fallen on you.

It is his single eye that helped you regain your senses and memory. Under other circumstances, you would have been quicker to remember, but the sight of a dragon and the confrontation with a man, alone in the middle of nowhere, had made you lose your composure more than you would like to admit.

Out of all the people living in this great city, you had to stumble upon a prince, and not just any prince; one of the king's sons, the one whose dark rumors reached Dorne. Being terribly close to him, you cannot ignore his hair of the same color as yours, and his eye, his only eye, which stared at you with the same violet gleam.

Your father would be terribly furious and scared if he learned about this. It shouldn't happen; you need to leave and disappear as quickly as possible, return to your chamber, and not come out until his return.

Just for a moment, you think you might be scared - not only of Aemond Targaryen, but of the consequences of your encounter. But the thought doesn’t have time to take root before the prince lifts you to better pin you against the ground again, wanting to bring you back to reality.

"You seem to know who I am but refuse to tell me who you are." The prince growls, the coldness of his fine features turning darker. He obviously isn’t used to being refused, let alone by a young girl lost on the beach daring to resist him. "Answer me, it's an order!"

You don’t know what you risk by refusing to obey a prince, but the mere idea of your father’s reaction or being recognized fills you with more fear. Trying to sit up, you growl in frustration. "Get off me! I swear I wasn't going to do anything, so let me go!"

Wanting to tip the odds in your favor and taking advantage of the element of surprise, you quickly lift your knee, managing to hit him, probably not hard enough to hurt but enough to surprise him. If he thinks he could intimidate you, he doesn’t know you because when Aemond’s eye widens in surprise, you quickly turn your head and bite his forearm as hard as you can, tasting the warm metallic flavor of his blood against your lips.

Vhagar growls in concert with his rider, who releases you with a hiss of pain, as if he has just put his hand in molten lava. Astonishment paints the prince's features, and it’s the moment you choose to stand up, finally finding yourself on your feet before him. But Aemond Targaryen is quick and just as swiftly on his feet, his dagger in hand. Both of you face each other, in an attack or defense position, no one could really tell.

The only thing you want is to flee. Run as fast as possible, as far as possible. Do not look back. Forget this evening, the dragon. Forget the prince and the fear.

You have not learned to fight, and now that the moon reflects the prince’s deadly blade, you know the fight is lost from the start. Yet, that’s not the only thing the moon and the fight have uncovered; your scarf is negligently stretched out at your feet, in the sand, revealing your entire hair and leaving no doubt about your astonishing resemblance.

At this sight, the prince lowers his weapon slightly, fascinated by what he sees; not only by your similar traits but by you, just you. He looks at you as he has never looked at anyone, a new gleam born in his eye. “It seems we started off on the wrong foot. Will you stop struggling or trying to flee? On my side, I promise not to use this,” he says, showing you his dagger, “against you.”

The options are unfortunately limited for you, but curiosity wins over your reflections, abandoning all common sense. The worst is already done; Aemond Targaryen has seen how much you resemble him so, why to refuse? You nod gently and stand up completely, letting your hands hang at your sides as he approaches cautiously, scrutinizing every part of you his lilac eye can land on.

“What is your name?”

“Roxaene.”

"Judging by your clothes, your posture and your intact features, you come from a house with, at least a last name I imagine."

“Martell.” You finally add, a sigh of frustration escaping your lungs at having had to reveal so much to him.

His fine eyebrows furrow for just a moment, creating a line between his two eyes. “The Dornish women have quite different physical characteristics in my last memories; they are known to be magnificent and captivating and although I definitely don't question the beauty of your face - and what else I can see...” he says, letting his eye run along your body, your skin offered on your shoulders, seeing the paleness of your thigh and your bare arms. “..it seems obvious to me that if you live in Dorne, you are not originally from there. Isn’t that right?”

Uncomfortable, you swallow, your gaze unable to fix on anything, uncertain. You bite your lip for a moment and look at him again, not wanting to appear frightened or hesitant. “There are some shadows around my early days of life...”

Aemond murmurs in approval, circling you like a bird with prey, like a dragon before attacking, and it’s when he is behind you that you shiver as his blade appears in front of your eyes, just far enough for both your reflections to appear. “Shadows or not, you cannot deny what you see, can you?”

Feeling him so close to you, almost glued to your back, makes you tense, but you remain stoic. Of course, you see how your resemblance is unsettling, of course, you see the similarities that make you who you are. But your father never wanted to tell you more, so even if you wanted to, you couldn’t reveal more to the prince.

“Yes... but I’m afraid I have nothing else to tell you.” In a last moment of courage, you turn your head towards him, your gaze meeting his. “In fact, I was hoping that by coming to this city, I would be the one to get some answers.”

He remains motionless, staring at you while listening to you and yet, even if your words have reached his mind, the prince cannot help but smell the scent of orange blossom from Dorne's gardens filling his nostrils as he inhales you like a succulent meal to taste, pressing his chest closer to your back to feel the warmth. At that moment, the young prince knows that he will never want to let you go again. Aemond Targaryen loves to plan, think, decode, understand. Solving mysteries is an intellectual game he loves to play and what a magnificent mystery he now has in his hands.

Unbowed, unbent, unbroken. Without a doubt, you respond proudly and courageously to the dogma of your house, but this, instead of curbing the curiosity and desire of Prince Aemond, only increases his desire to unravel your mystery. To make you bow, bend and break for him.

#aemond smut #house targaryen #aemond fanfiction #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #hotd #hotd fanfic #hotd aemond #house of the dragon #aemond x oc #aegon smut #house of the dragon aemond #aemond x you #aegon x you

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