#enemies stuck in marriage

[xmcu-fietro]

I know this is just a rumor but YES YES YES

[foreverdolly]

ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part I 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』

summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.

warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking. (needs to be edited, so please excuse any temporary errors!)

word count: 5.3k

← previous chapter | next chapter →

The ancient walls of Castle Caladan were a fortress, the long winding halls a labyrinth to those unfamiliar with its layout. You had tried feigning sleep when you had been made aware of the surprise guest’s arrival, a one “reverend mother”- as your mother referred to her. The cool air from the hallway nipped at your exposed arm, which currently hung limply over the side of the bed. 

“She’s even smaller than your son, Jessica.” The voice sounded more like a wheeze- and it certainly didn’t belong to anyone you had ever met before. 

“As I’ve already said, the Atreides are slow to grow.” Your mother’s tone didn’t hold even a semblance of a bite to it, not like you expected. She was usually fiercely protective of you and your brother. 

Your finger twitched, causing the woman to stifle whatever disapproving comment she was about to make. Being caught eavesdropping like this certainly wasn’t ideal, but you found it impossible not to be curious. 

“She really is just like her brother,” More like he was more like you. You’d always been the rowdy one of the two. Paul must have been listening in as well, and you imagined that he was more insulted at the comments of his lack of height and muscle than you were. “The little rascals.” 

There was a beat of silence before the woman began to crone again. This time you opened your eyes just a sliver, staring into the dark abyss of your room so that you could make out the shapes of your mother and the stranger. 

“Rest now. Both you and your brother need to be prepared to meet my Gom Jabbar.” The reason couldn’t be pinpointed, but there was something about her tone that filled you with dread.

Your mother woke you up the next morning, bright and early. 

Not even the breathing exercises that your mother had taught you had been able to calm you down last night. The darkness had swallowed you whole, which resulted in a dreamless sleep that left you feeling just as unrested as you had felt the night before. Your mother noticed your hesitations, the skirts of her dress dragging against the stone floor as she moved in the direction of your closet. The dress that she picked out for you was one of your more official garments, the red hawk of the Atreides crest proudly sewn onto the right breast. 

“Did you sleep well?” She questioned as she laid the dress neatly onto the edge of the bed, urging you to stand once her hands were free. 

You blinked at her, nervously brushing your hands along the soft cotton of your nightdress. Your voice felt stuck in your throat, but you still managed to lie. 

“Yes, of course.” Your tone was flat, and for once she didn’t question you on the reasoning. She knew exactly what had you feeling so uncomfortable in your own home. 

Gom Jabbar. Gom Jabbar. Gom Jabbar. 

What exactly did the old woman want from your family? Lady Jessica was a Bene Gesserit, which could only mean that this woman was a higher up, sent to pay you and your brother a visit. You knew nothing about any “coming of age” rituals. 

Paul barged into the room, dressed in his finer clothes as well. He leaned against the wall of your room, lips pursed as if he was deep in thought. You tilted your head to the side, leveling him a worried glance. He simply shook his head, and you knew at once that he wasn’t trying to dismiss your worries. 

‘Not here. Later.’ His expression told you, and for once you obeyed. 

“The reverend mother is waiting on the both of you. Paul, get out of your sister’s room so she can get ready.” She commanded, her tone leaving no room for whining or disobedience. 

He groaned, pushing himself off of the wall so that he could head back out and into the hall. You shrugged out of your dress quickly at the hurried insistence of your mother, allowing her to do up the clasps of the dress for you. 

“Who is she?” You asked simply, brushing your hair to the side so that she could get a better grasp of the dress. 

“She was my teacher at the Bene Gesserit school and now she is the Emperor’s Truthsayer.” Your mother sighed out your name, turning you quickly so that you were facing her. “You need to do exactly as she says. There is no room to be prideful today, do you understand?” Her eyes were pleading, and you knew that she had your best interests in mind. 

You and your mother walked wordlessly out into the hall, catching up with your brother who was busy running his fingers along the uneven stone walls. You flashed a quick look at your mother before jogging to catch up with Paul, taking the hem of his sleeve into your hand. 

“What do you know?” You whispered, turning your head so that you could look at your mother. Much to your surprise she seemed to be in no hurry to separate the two of you. 

“I’ve had dreams about her before,” He whispered, and you had to pick up your pace to keep up with his strides. “And mother told me this morning that I have to tell her about my visions.” 

Your mouth went a bit dry at the realization that this woman truly was here just for you and your brother. What is the Gom Jabbar and what did it entail? There was no telling. 

“She’s in my morning room, you two.” She called out after you. 

Jessica caught up, leveling the both of you a disapproving motherly look that had the two of you slowing your strides to match hers. She seemed a bit hesitant, eyes flickering between you and your brother and the closed door. 

The “reverend mother” sat in one of the tapestried chairs, her arms perched on either side of the armrests as she watched the three of you come in. The view behind her was beautiful, the sprawling, green farmlands of the Atreides family holding on full display through the large windows behind her. You glanced at your brother, eyes widening when you realized that he was already looking at you. He bowed in her direction and you followed his lead. 

“They are a cautious bundle, aren’t they?” The witch-like woman croaked, looking between the two of you. 

“As they have been taught, your reverence.” 

In this room, here in front of this woman, Jessica was no longer the Duke’s concubine nor your mother. She was reduced to that of a pupil in the face of her teacher. You kept yourself from fidgeting, clasping your hands in front of you. You fought the urge to reach out and grab your brother’s hand, as the two of you so often did when faced with anxiety as children. Fear hadn’t regressed you to that of a blubbering child in years. 

Your mother also seemed to fear the woman before her. There was something in her tone that led you to believe that whatever she was here for, it surely wasn’t a pleasantry. Your brother was tense at your mother’s other side, jaw tense as he stared the reverend mother down. 

“Teaching is one thing, but there are some things that cannot simply be taught,” Paul’s eyebrows furrowed as she spoke, and as if she was dismissing a servant of the castle, she waved your mother off with a flick of her wrist. “You and your daughter leave us. It will be her turn soon.” 

For the first time that morning your mother hesitated, eyes softened as she looked upon her son.

“Your reverence, I-” She began, but was cut off before she could finish whatever it is she was going to say. Surely it was meant to be an objection. 

“Jessica, you know that this must be done.” Her voice held a tone of finality. There was no room for your mother to try and wiggle the both of you two out of this trap.

“Yes. . . of course.” Your mother straightened, turning towards both of you. 

“This test. . . It’s very important to me, you two.” She spoke in a hushed voice, eyes still fearful. 

“Test?” The two of you questioned at the same time, looking at one another in concern. You were confused, even more so than you were before. 

“Remember that you’re the duke’s son.” And with that your mother was grabbing your arm, pulling you in the direction of the door. 

“I suppose that it is my turn?” Your voice shook with anger as you practically tore the door off of its hinges, anxious to take your brother’s place. His cries and whimpers did not go unheard, even with the thick wood separating the two of you. 

Looking at him now, his right arm still shaking from the pain, was like being slapped across the face. 

“Right you are, girl. Jessica, please escort your son out of the room.” There was a silvery glint in her bright eyes- a challenge. She could sense it in you. 

Your mother didn’t interrupt this time, and without any words exchanged the door closed. Your brother was too shaken up by whatever had taken place in that room to fully comprehend that the same thing was going to happen to you. He tossed a terrified glance over his shoulder at you just before the heavy doors closed. The sound of it echoed around the room, pulsing in your chest as you tried to steady the adrenaline pumping through your veins. 

“Your future. . . do you know what is expected of you?” 

You eyed the black box that sat next to her as you began closing the distance between the two of you. The question she had asked. . . it was a touchy subject with you. Of course you knew. A day didn’t go by that you weren’t mortified by the prospect of your future. You only had three short years to live and enjoy before you would be forced to abandon your family to join hands with another one. 

“Of course I do. It is my duty to marry.” Your voice had a bite to it, your eyes unwavering as you stared her veiled face down. 

“It is your duty to marry a Harkonnen. It is an honor to be the only reason that these two great Houses are allies. Your heirs will be powerful beyond comprehension.” The way she spoke. . . she truly believed the shit she was spouting. 

It was impossible to consider marrying Feyd an honor. It was an ever-present looming threat. 

“Put your right hand in the box.” She commanded, nodding her head in it’s direction. 

It seemed harmless enough, nothing more than a metal box. You bent your head ever-so-slightly, trying to have a look inside. It appeared to be a pitch black, endless void. No beginning or end in sight. 

You did as you were told, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from muttering anything too disrespectful under your breath. If Paul’s screams were anything to go off of then this was going to be painful. Still, you were shocked by how cold the box was. You wiggled your fingers a few times, feeling the metal encasing them. Slowly a tingling sensation began, almost as if they were falling asleep. 

“You’ve heard of animals chewing off a leg to escape a trap? There’s an animal kind of trick. A human would remain in the trap, endure the pain, feigning death that he might kill the trapper and remove a threat to his kind.” 

The tingling sensation somehow melded into. . . heat. No, not heat. Burning. It felt as though you had your hand held up to a bright flame. You flinched, but froze when you finally noticed that the reverend mother was holding something against your neck. Your eyes flickered the best that they could to her hand, not wanting to turn your head. 

“What I hold at your neck is the Gom Jabbar. The tip of the needle is dipped in poison. Remove your hand from the box and I will plunge it into your neck.” 

The palm of your free hand began to sweat, the gravity of the situation finally landing on your shoulders. You would be forced to endure the pain and there was nothing that anyone outside of the doors could do. No guards had come to protect your brother when it was his turn, and no matter how emotional your mother had gotten whilst hearing his screams she still hadn’t rushed in after him. You could truly die here in this room. 

“Why are you doing this?” You urged, wincing again as the burning continued to worsen. 

Now it felt as though you were almost touching a flame, fingers dancing dangerously close. It wasn’t just uncomfortable now but painful.  “To determine if you’re human. Now be silent.”

Meant for greatness, yet stifled before her prime. 

It was impossible for your clipped wings to take flight. The Bene Gesserit had instilled in you your purpose from a very young age, letting it be known that you were little more than cattle to be sold off to breed. The whole arrangement was dehumanizing, but this was the way of galactic high society. Every House had been developed by the close, watchful eye of the Bene Gesserit. Your mere existence was a result of a centuries long breeding program, so how could you ever expect for your own life to be any different? 

Every child, especially in their naive youth, dreams of greatness. There was a point in time where you had hoped to mean something. There were differences to be made, rules to be broken, wars to be raged- but you would never be at the helm of any of it. But Paul. . . Paul was different. 

“You know something that I don’t.” You weren’t asking Paul, rather telling him what you already knew. 

Where you were used to your brother pulling no punches, he had been overly cautious with his treatment of you during training today. For a second he just stared ahead blankly at the wall, and you wondered whether he would try to lie. The older you’ve gotten, the stranger other people’s treatment of you has become. Women were little more than something to be owned. It was a hard lesson to learn and was one you were still grappling with. 

Your femininity were the chains that bound you. And what of your ambition? It was currently acting as the flames licking at your boot heels. Soon you feared that it would fully engulf you; become your undoing. 

“Tell me.” Your lovely features crumpled, and as childish as it was you found yourself giving his arm a slap. 

He jumped at the sudden contact, eyes widening as he turned to face you after what felt like an eternity of prolonged silence between the two of you. The hard flooring felt cool beneath your legs as you stretched them out beneath you, and for a second you found it hard to keep yourself up in a sitting position. The world felt unsteady beneath you, both literally and figuratively. 

Paul didn’t have to say anything at all. You looked, you saw, you felt, you understood. Your shared connection had nothing to do with your genes, rather it had to do with your likeness. Two bodies, two minds, but one soul. Your twin’s features crumpled, mirroring that of your own as he pushed a few strands of dark hair away from his face. 

“So there is nothing I can do? My fate is sealed.” Your lips felt numb as you spoke. 

Your brother’s visions were more frequent than they had ever been before. “Horrors”, he’d described them.

“If there was something I could do. . .” He started, turning quickly to face you, tucking one leg beneath himself. “My hands are tied. Mother and father’s hands are as well.” 

Hiding you away or knowingly allowing you to escape your duties would be seen as an act of treason. You’d be putting your parents and their status in danger, and no matter how desperate you were to get out of any sort of marriage pact, it was far too late. Since the very moment you were conceived, this was what you were meant for. 

“When will the orders come down, you think?” You pulled your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them tightly. 

You wished that you could stay like this forever, protected from the rest of the world. If only you hadn’t been born as twins at all. You wanted so badly to be like Paul. 

But the galaxy didn’t work like that. You were not fortunate enough to get what you wanted. 

“Soon.” 

You felt comforted by the hand that he placed on your shoulder, and even more so when he kept it there until you felt as though you were able to stand up. 

You were to marry into House Harkonnen. That was your purpose; to unite the feuding houses and birth powerful offspring. You had met Feyd once before, but only for a fleeting moment. It hadn’t been awkward- no, back then the two of you hadn’t cared enough to pay any mind to the looming threat that was your betrothal. You’d been too young back then to fully grasp the severity of the situation. 

You remembered being shocked by his size. He towered over Paul, appearing to be years older than he really was. His hair had been dark back then, thick and slightly curly. 

He had only just been taken under his uncle’s wing at the time. The environment of Giedi Prime had yet to fully sink into the young boy. The Harkonnen’s looks had always been startling to you, no matter how many times you’d been exposed to it. They were dark creatures, brooding, hairless with skin as pale as milk- not to mention violent. 

The desperate way that Paul had clung to you was not lost on you. You let him squeeze you as tightly as he needed, your arms locking around his back. This meeting would change everything. In a matter of moments your life as you knew it would be taking a drastic turn, and not for the better. 

You’d made that very same trek to the parlor room a million times. This was your ancestral home- had been in your family longer than you thought was conceivable, and yet this felt new to you. Wrong. The shadows from the windows were casting strange lights on the wall beside you, and your footsteps sounded muffled in your ears as your pounding heart nearly deafened you. Your father’s hand brushed against your palm a few times, his attempt at showing you physical comfort without causing any sort of scene. You knew that this was Feyd-Rautha’s right. 

You were Feyd-Rautha’s right. That simple fact alone was enough to send you reeling, that morning's breakfast churning in your stomach. 

“It will be fine.” Your mother’s fingers shaped the words at her side, a comforting and silent presence. 

Your parents had always protected you. They had taught you well in all aspects of life. She was right. You had to trust yourself just as much as you trusted them. This will be fine. You will survive. 

But god, you wanted to live. 

Your worst fear was being locked up like a caged animal, only taken out to be played with or paraded around. You didn’t want to be somebody's little wife; you were no homemaker or bed warmer. 

‘I am better than this.’ You thought to yourself, your hands balling into fists at your sides. 

As the double doors began creeping open, you felt the sudden urge to run the opposite direction, your parents be damned. The feud between House Atreides and House Harkonnen would surely become deadly if you were to turn your back on the promise now, and that was the only thing that steeled your feet. You stood, back straight and hands clasped tightly at your front. 

You looked to be a pillar of strength, but oh- you were so close to crumbling. Your father took a step past the threshold, eyes hard as he bowed his head respectfully in the Baron’s direction. There was still time to turn around. The door was right there, and you were sure that you could commandeer a ship. You’d piloted a few times before in your life, and while you weren’t the best, you were certain you could get yourself the hell off of Caladan. You shuffled your feet, eyes wide as you looked up and caught your mother’s gaze. Her lips were parted, and you could tell that she was trying to decipher your expression. 

“What are you doing?” Her hand moved quickly at her side, the flowy gauze-like material of her skirts hiding her frantic movements from the visitor’s view. 

Nothing. You were doing nothing. There were no options yet. If you fled then the insubordination would fall back on your parents. If you downright refused then the outcome would be the same. There was nothing you could do but keep your mouth shut and try not to show the Harkonnen even a semblance of vulnerability. 

Disdain rolled off of you in waves as you breezed into the parlor, eyes locked on the side of your father’s face as he conversed with the baron. Tensions were high, even now. No pleasantries were being exchanged, that you were sure of. The Harkonnen’s stark black attire was a startling contrast to their pale skin. There, in the middle of two other men, whom you were sure were present for reasons of protection, was Feyd. 

He looked the same as the rest of them. Hairless, blue eyes dripping with something that could only be described as malice. Gone was the curly haired child that you remembered. In his place stood someone unrecognizable to you. You wanted to question what the Baron had done to Feyd, but you already knew. Perfection was expected on Geidi Prime. 

He had shaped Feyd into the very likeness of perfection. The once dark haired boy was now a walking, talking machine; not even a dead leaf echo of the boy you met all those years ago. 

You tried to map out every single one of his microexpressions, searching desperately for any sign that he might disapprove of the predicament the both of you had found yourselves in. He tilted his head to the side, observing you with a horrifying level of concentration. The Baron began to speak, saying something that you didn’t care enough to listen to. You were too distracted by the terrifying man before you. 

“She will come back home to Geidi Prime with us. No objections, correct?” 

You were marrying him out of an obligation, this he was already privy to. He had seen the reluctance written plain across your face as you’d entered the room. You’d wanted to run. Away from him, away from your responsibilities- and he could not blame you for it. His understanding stopped there though, simply because this proposal wasn’t going against his own wishes. 

“The wedding isn’t taking place for another week.” The Duke didn’t seem to like the idea of his unwed daughter leaving his side. 

Feyd fought back a smile, having known that the Baron’s sudden request would have this effect on the Atreides family. He watched you squirm like a bug under a magnifying glass, your hand moving at your hip. For a second he thought that you might be tugging at the seam of your dress, writing it off as nothing but a nervous tick- but then he saw the way your mother’s eyes followed those movements. 

The two of you were communicating. 

“That may be so, however I think that it is only right that your daughter,” Baron Vladimir motioned in your direction. “Becomes better acquainted with Feyd. You don’t agree?” 

His uncle decided that it was best to test the boundaries of this alliance. He was pushing the Duke, seeing how far he could get. Leto’s lips twitched, his eyes flickering thoughtfully towards you. Feyd was finding it hard to pay attention to anyone else other than you in the room. He’d spent years imagining what you would look like as an adult- dreamt about it. He’d eagerly been awaiting this moment, counting the days that he could finally be reunited with you. 

It wasn’t just because he had been promised powerful heirs. It was the thought that someone was fated to marry him. Since before he was even conceived, you had always been promised to him. That idea had been put into his head since childhood. You were the constant topic in his mind, a person that was unavoidably meant to be in his life for the rest of his days. 

In a strange way he had loved you since he was but a child. 

Seeing you for that first time had been better than he had anticipated. You were a beautiful little girl, but now? The child that he had met all those years ago did not hold a candle to the grace and brilliance of the woman that stood before him. Nobody else could ever compare. You didn’t have to fall for him right now, he was content with that. Hell, you didn’t even have to tolerate him.  He would find pleasure in wearing you down. He was going to make you love him.

I must not fear. Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. 

The adrenaline had run its way out of your system, leaving you cold and alone on a planet that was so incredibly alien to you, you weren’t sure how you’d ever be expected to adjust. Even the oxygen felt different in your lungs- the sweet, acrid smell of chemicals tinging the air around you. It was nothing like your home on Caladan. Your home was a stone castle, but this? This was a cold, black fortress. 

You weren’t sure if it was meant to keep people out. . . or in. 

You thought back to that fateful day with the reverend mother. 

“You’ve heard of animals chewing off a leg to escape a trap? There’s an animal kind of trick. A human would remain in the trap, endure the pain, feigning death that he might kill the trapper and remove a threat to his kind.” 

You couldn’t chew your leg off to be free of this. No, you had to lay in wait. Only then could you strike if the situation called for it. 

“Striking” could wait until tomorrow though. For now you wanted to rid yourself of the anxiety. Sleep was the only cure you could think of. 

“Is the room to your liking?” That husky voice of his was already grating on your nerves. 

Feyd had only attempted to speak to you a few times and already you were sick and tired of his presence. He was a constant reminder that you would never know what it was like to be free. Then again, was anybody in the galaxy truly free? Feyd sure seemed to be carefree in his current position. 

His tone felt off, like he was toying with you. 

“I would be far more pleased about my new living quarters if you were to leave.” You said simply, pulling the slate gray blanket up and over your chin. 

You weren’t sure if it was due to his ill-breeding, but he didn’t seem to care that you were in nothing but your night dress. He walked into the room in long-legged strikes, letting the door shut behind him. Never before had the two of you been alone together, not since you were children at least. If you were back in your family home you would feel safer during a moment like this. 

You were in his territory now, meaning he had full reign over everything. Your father and family name couldn’t protect you on Geidi Prime. 

“You’re in quite the rush to be rid of me,” He didn’t falter for even a second as he moved to sit down on the edge of the bed, leaning back against the plush mattress with a small sigh. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think that you didn’t like me.” He didn’t seem upset at the notion of you disliking him. In fact, there was a glint in his eyes. That same sort of silvery glint you’d seen in the reverend mother’s eyes all those years ago: a challenge. 

This was nothing but a challenge to him. You were a conquest, and you detested that. Your stomach soured, your face becoming pinched as you glared at him. This was all too much too fast. You were in the comfort of your own home not even four hours ago, and now you were expected to make small talk with the source of your life-long discontent.  

“And what of your concubines? Could you not pester them tonight and give me a moment's peace?” 

“I dismissed them from their duties, permanently, weeks ago.” He said simply, his fingers running along the cotton of the comforter. 

“What?” You’d never heard of such a thing. 

“Spending time with them would be a waste.” His blue eyes flickered up to meet your eyes. “Acquiring concubines had just been a show of status.” 

It took you a few moments to process what he was saying, the burning hatred you had felt just moments ago flickering out into a dull flame. 

“Why would spending time with them be a waste? Am I expected to spend that much time with you?” A horror, truly. You had hoped that you’d be able to get away with spending a night or two a week with him, if only to achieve the Bene Gesserit’s goal of siring an heir. 

“A waste of time. A waste of seed,” He looked at you pointedly, his lip pulling up into a smile that revealed more of his black teeth. “And both of those things are important to me.” 

Your stomach hollowed out as you were once again reminded of what was expected of you. You had a week to prepare mentally for your wedding night, which you weren’t sure was enough. 

“And what happened to the concubines? Are they still being housed here?” 

“Why? Are you jealous?” He was smiling even wider than he was before. 

A shiver ran through you as you noticed how predatory his body language was- you felt like prey under his haughty gaze. It was hard to believe that Feyd had been administered the Gom Jabbar test and passed. 

This man was no human. He was an animal, that you were certain. 

“Wickedly.” Your tone was flat and noncommittal. Even now, you never saw Feyd as a potential lover. 

The man that was your so-called “destiny” was also your jailer. 

“Well then you’ll be happy to know that they no longer live here. . . or anywhere, for that matter.” He sat up, rolling his shoulders back to stretch his broad muscles.

The blood drained from your face as you stared up at him from your spot on the bed. He must have felt the weight of your gaze and turned his head, his eyes alight with. . . pleasure. Violence was as ingrained in him as breathing was. It was his life. Standing before you was the prince of death- pale, striking and terrifying. 

Animal, indeed. 

I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain. 

← previous chapter | next chapter →

please message me if you'd like to be added to my taglist!

A/N: this chapter was plot heavy, I know, however it was crucial to give you guys some background information so that I can better build tension. the beautiful dividers were created by @ kitsunecafe!

[chuluoyi]

MARRIED ON PURPOSE

- gojo satoru x reader

"for one, i can show you incredible things!" jujutsu, madness, heaven, sin. the strongest sorcerer is sure to show you all of that during the whole duration of your six-month marriage contract.

genre: marriage of convenience, enemies to lovers, crack, fluff, slight satosugu angst/comfort, kamo!reader, very suggestive. gojo clan is portrayed as very traditional, meanwhile kamo clan is rather unpleasant here

note: the unholy amount of times i've edited this story *sigh* but okay i must drop it here or else i'm going to keep editing it and losing my mind. despite my misgivings and all, i really had fun writing this and i hope you enjoy it! wc. 5k !

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

Some would say... marrying Gojo Satoru would be living the dream.

“Don't look that sour now, wife.”

“…sigh.”

A playful nudge at your side, a lighthearted voice— “You're going to make them question our veeery happy marriage, you know… We don't want that now, do we?”

But to you, it was more like nightmare dressed in a daydream.

It was peak comedy because why would you put marrying Gojo Satoru in your life plans? He was incorrigible, a child trapped in a man's body, and there was also the very fact that you hate him. His only redeeming trait was being born in the esteemed Gojo clan, and now held the title of the strongest.

You know you must have accumulated karma, but out of everything else, why must you end up in this predicament?

Hailing from the great clans of jujutsu society, both of you know well that marriage is the essence to make the clan greater. And when it involves the big three clans, its importance amplifies even further.

It was just that you two were too rebellious to follow it through, for one reason or another. Everyone knows Gojo Satoru was faithless to any woman, and you were not exactly thrilled with the idea of marriage as a whole.

He was the one who came to you, proposing this insane idea of a temporary marriage.

"Look at it this way," Satoru said with a wry grin, contrasting your puzzled frown on that fateful afternoon. "It's either me or Zen'in Naoya for you, isn't it? It's so clear which is the better man."

That was what grated you the most. You would be damned if you married the misogynist.

"What do you get from this arrangement, really?" you questioned begrudgingly.

His name would give you security, stop the harassment from your clan, and maybe even a better life, but you didn't quite get what he'd get from the offer he willingly extended to you.

Satoru flippantly shrugged. "Nah, you are not exactly my type, but you're still far better than the boring puppet my family have considered to be my wife."

"Who?"

"Don't remember her name. All she goes on about is that she'll be the good wife and mother of my child. Ew."

Seven hells. You scowled. Gojo Satoru and his penchant for chasing the thrill. Boring women would kill him before an actual curse would.

"And hey, for one," he shot you a smirk, visibly smug. "I can show you incredible things!"

"That's not the point! Gojo, do you even realize—" your voice rose, pulsating with righteous fury, "—how serious all of this is? My life, your life! We're going to be stuck—together!"

"Six months," he blurted, tilting his head slightly. His sunglasses slipped down just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his sparkling eyes. "It's enough time to work through our shits, and by then if you have enough, we're through."

At that time, it seemed feasible. Both of you tolerating each other to avoid a much worse match.

. . .

BACK TO PRESENT—barely a week ever since you were paraded around as his wife, now you and Satoru were stiffly poised in the studio in your formal garbs, capturing your official wedding photos.

At that time, it seemed feasible, but now, it felt like a chore, as you realized that conversing with him either spiked your blood pressure so much that you wouldn't even be surprised if you ended up with hypertension or completely sapped your energy that you were left exhausted.

"Come on, show a smiiile," Satoru said in a sing-song voice, gesturing toward the camera as it flashed for the pictures. You were beyond appalled, shooting a glare in his direction.

"I am smiling, Gojo."

"Liar. You're pouting, wifey~"

Sigh… this really is going to be one hella of a ride, huh?

MONTH ONE, and you found out that Gojo Satoru is apparently as mad as people made him out to be.

"You've got to be kidding me!" you fumed, right after he hauled you into one of the rooms in his grand, traditional estate. Your glare pierced through him, a blood vessel ready to burst. "We never agreed on ‘consummating’ the marriage!"

You wrote him a goddamn contract. And the three conditions of this chaotic marriage are: one, it would only last six months; two, no personal feelings involved; and three, nothing borderline disturbing.

And this, you concluded, was the height of what could be called as disturbing.

"We will not," Satoru replied with a hint of disdain, grimacing, as if the notion didn't sit well with him either. The audacity! "We're just going to make it as if we are—"

"And why?! Why should I do that?!"

"Why else? Because my old fart believes that we indeed haven't done so."

"Then it's your fault? For failing to convince him? Why turn it into my problem!"

"Because, dear wife," he drawled, his tone taunting on the final note. "Now we're on the same page, in case you have forgotten."

Great clans and their hollow expectations spare no one, not even Gojo Satoru. They place importance in the most banal things, such as the continuity of sacred bloodlines and such.

The only alternative wasn't appealing either. Should you be found out that you married only to divorce... sigh, you didn't even want to know how big of a scandal it would be. One thing was certain: your clan would chop you to shreds.

You really had no choice, huh?

"Five minutes," you warned, glaring at him. "Make it loud. Make it so that no one wouldn't question this anymore."

Oh and sure he would. As Satoru pulled that shit-eating grin, you were in for another ride. You waited out until several maids were nearby, left the wooden door ajar, and began the show—

His hands wrapped around your waist—the feeling was peculiar, but you ignored it—and you let him pull you near that open door. He snuggled his face on your neck—his hair tickling you in the process, but you ignored that peculiarity again—as he started making suggestive noises. "Mm, you're so pretty, darling."

You could hear those maids gasp in surprise. And to add the flavor, you faked a moan.

This is... kinda fun? A twisted part of you suddenly found satisfaction in fooling the maids. A smile tugged at your lips as you shoved him away, and Satoru eyed you in surprise and irritation.

"Husband, you're... insatiable," you worded languidly, and he immediately caught on your act, grinning. "Anyone can walk by, you know."

"Oh? But that's the point." Satoru's bright blue eyes twinkled with utter mischief, and even you couldn't deny the exhilarating rush. "I want them to know."

And suddenly you got this very brilliant idea. You swiftly moved past him and sent the books and trinkets on his desk flying to the floor, causing questionable noises.

"Oh my!" a girlish voice exclaimed.

"The master! And the lady!"

Satoru shook his head, thoroughly entertained. And you rolled your eyes. Those nosy maids would finally have enough now, and this charade would end—

"What's happening here?"

The old fart. Both you and Satoru grunted in unison. You really thought you would leave it up to the maids to spread the word, but then you were taken by surprise when he wrapped his hands around you and flung the door open, slamming you against it—and damn it hurt!—offering everyone a front-row seat to your charade.

The maids squealed. His grandfather raised a righteous, demanding eyebrow. You wanted to scream.

"Hey, gramps," he greeted jovially, breathless, his grip on you tightening and you felt heat radiating from his palm. "Ah, sorry, opened it by accident—the wife here is feisty, you see."

Your veins felt ready to burst. Was this a part of his plan all along? How would you show your face before your grandfather-in-law now that he had seen this... atrocity?!

"So, yeah, we'll resume our business!" Satoru, the idiot, said it as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "See ya!"

With that the door slammed shut, but oh no, it was not the end.

"Mmmph!?" you protested, unintentionally loud and eyes widening in alarm when Satoru muffled your mouth with his hand.

The rotten bastard! You found it nearly impossible to breathe, shooting daggers at him. "Mmmrgh! Mmmrrgh!"

"Oh... so that boy really does it huh," you heard the elder mutter in thoughtful manner from outside—and you were in disbelief at how trusting he was—before rounding the stunned maids and barked, "What are all you doing here? Go!"

You nearly sagged with relief when Satoru loosened his grip slightly, allowing you to breathe, as his meddlesome grandpa finally stalked away. Done. This horrible act was over! But wait, why did he still had his hand on your mouth?

"That went splendidly!" he snickered, appearing rather pleased with what had unfolded. "Now, if only we work together like this more often—"

This is… my life now, you lamented the reality. The feeling of his calloused hand on you made you feel things, honestly speaking, but another emotion—and impulse—currently overpowered that.

Seething with resentment, you fiercely chomped down on his hand hard, causing him to swear and pull his hand out of you.

"You—you devil! You bit me!"

"Serves you right!"

Okay, he was bad. He was insufferable. But to be frank, sometimes it wasn't all chaos.

And what's more, by MONTH TWO, you realized that being married to Gojo Satoru also comes with several perks.

"Miss, please, you're trespassing—"

You looked at the police with the haughtiest look you could muster, unamused. "Don't you know who I am?"

"No, but it shouldn't—"

"I'm that man's wife," you declared regally, motioning towards a certain tall shuttlecock a few meters away. "Is that not clear enough for you?"

For one, no one can look down on you anymore, because should they try, you have the power to raise your chin high and declare yourself as the wife of the infamous sorcerer. The very moment you did, that nosy police stopped yapping, and let you through.

The cursed boy, Yuta and his classmate had just been trapped inside a barrier a curse user pulled down, and you were assigned to look into this case by the headquarters. As much as it boggled you—because certainly, the strongest sorcerer was enough to investigate this—you still had to do your job.

“What is this?” you asked Satoru, who was observing something far beyond what your measly ordinary eyes could see. “What happened here?”

He turned to you, all with bandaged eyes. “Hmm? Oh, you’re here too?”

“Don't act surprised. Answer my question, Gojo.”

"You’re too uptight, wifey," Satoru's lips curved upwards playfully. He had taken to addressing you with pet names as of late, if anything, only to get a rise out of you. "Isn't it the time for you to start calling me by my given name?"

You let out a weary exhale, exasperated. "I'm serious, did you find anything? Who is behind this?"

"Nah, nothing for you to worry about," Satoru waved his hand dismissively, grinning. "More importantly! Let's head back and have dinner! My treat!"

You weren't that oblivious. You noticed things too.

"What do you want tonight? Sukiyaki? Sushi?" he hummed nonchalantly. "Or shabu-shabu?"

You gave him the stink eye. "Is that all you think about? Food?"

"As a responsible husband, it's my duty to feed my wife, no?"

"News flash: temporary wife."

"But still my wife, regardless. I overheard you earlier. Being Mrs. Gojo is convenient, yeah?"

You ignored how a part of your jolted at the emphasis he placed on that word, grunting. "Nah, it's meh."

Call it a feeling or hypothesis. It was similar to how he treated his students. He always said the dumbest things, but it actually served to make them feel at ease.

Then it occurred to you, could this be actually his attempt to change the subject?

"You can't cheat your way out of this." You shot him a pointed look. "You know something. Tell me."

"Hmmm? And what would I get in return?"

"Don't make this difficult. I'm on this assignment too!"

"Nah, if you call me by my name, I might consider it."

Hah. You should really read a parenting book one of these days. Taking on your husband was more or less the same as facing a kid.

"Satoru," you tested, the name rolling out of your lips far easier than you thought. Somehow, using his given name felt like some sort of a leap of faith.

He stopped right in his tracks, turning to you. His glossy lips quirked into a meaningful smile, and you felt funny.

"Wasn't that difficult, was it?" he winked, and you covered the strange heat creeping onto your face by rolling your eyes and huffed.

Needless to say, he still didn't tell you even a clue. You finally gave up, thinking that if he insisted on not disclosing it, then so be it. You trusted him on this, even as he turned your help away, and you hated admitting it, because, well…

You’d trust him with your life. He knows how to handle this better than anyone.

Being a a woman in Kamo clan is, in fact, not any better than in Zen'in—you're regarded more as a commodity than a human being.

"When will you bear the child of the bearer of Six Eyes?" in your father's eyes, you were but a tool to tie the Gojo at his hip, and your worth probably wasn't even twice of Noritoshi's. You had known he would ask this when he summoned you to Kamo ancestral home, and you weren't that naive—you had asked Satoru to join you too. But your father had insisted him to stay at the foyer, while he dragged you into his chamber.

Just because you had seen it coming didn’t mean you liked it. "Is that all? Do you really make me come here just to ask me that?"

And what came next was like a crack of thunder.

"How insolent!"

You shuddered, hating how his voice still had control over you. You wanted to stay deviant, but you couldn't keep yourself from shaking. You thought you would have to endure this shit just like you did before, until—

"Now, now... That's my wife you're talking to. I'd watch your words, if I were you."

You had never whipped your head so fast.

There stood Gojo Satoru, your husband, in all his glory. He was smiling but it was clear that he was displeased, evident from his cutting remark, and most notably, how he had unveiled his striking cerulean eyes for all to see. Truth to be told, you didn't expect him to barge in here at all.

"Gojo-sama," your father bowed his head, displaying utter respect towards him, contrasting the blatant disrespect he showed towards you just now. Satoru paid him no heed, as took big strides towards you and seized your arm, prompting you to rise to your feet.

"What is this? Why are you yelling at her?" His voice lacked its usual hint of amusement or teasing, sending a chill down your spine.

"Gojo-sama, I apologize for my tone towards my daughter earlier. I was just trying to educate—"

“My wife. She is my wife now, and it would do you better to remember that,” Satoru asserted firmly, putting emphasis in the way he addressed you, his gaze hardening. "She is an adult. There's nothing left for you to educate her." Pausing, he added, "And the way I saw it, you were just unnecessarily rude."

"Gojo-sama, there were just certain things in our clan that—"

"Please, don't call on us again," Satoru interjected decisively with a light yet firm voice. You could swear your heart was somersaulting at the sight of him staring down your natural enemy. "I'm sure you're aware, but your daughter bears my name now, and she will get the respect she is due. I will have a word with anyone who fails to treat her accordingly."

Somehow or another, Satoru whisked you away from that hellhole, your hand tightly clasped in his. Your relieved sigh didn't go unnoticed by him, as he looked back to you.

"Have you gone soft?" he teased, eyeing you with a playful snort. "Did you forget who your husband is? You've got nothing to fear. Not even him."

"Thank you," you murmured. Your heart was still pounding and your mind blanked, rendering you unable to engage in your usual banters.

His clear blue eyes widened a touch, blinking at your display of vulnerability, Then, he wore the most innocent expression, even sporting a silly smirk—the hardness from earlier gone. "I was really cool, huh? Totally made you swoon I bet."

And in MONTH THREE, you realized, as he laced his fingers with yours, as his laughter filled the air, as calmness swelled on your chest, and as you loudly snorted at his remark, that—

You felt warm, so warm, in fact, and maybe—

"Pfft, you wish."

—maybe... being with him isn't so bad after all.

MONTH FOUR, and you finally found out that it was Geto Suguru.

Everyone knew that your husband and the criminal used to be the best of friends. You saw them during your high school days, and heck, you used to think that Geto was the better man.

You could only imagine what he must feel.

. . .

When he got back to your shared house after the whole ordeal—after he ended his best friend with his own hands, Satoru honestly didn't expect that you would be waiting for him.

"You okay?" you asked him, brows furrowed in concern. It was probably one of the very few times you had displayed emotions other than contempt towards him.

It felt strange because he was used to your jabs, and he was not sure what sort of expression he should pull now, because truthfully, now he felt empty. Blank. All he comprehended was that he had killed Suguru, that he was gone, and that was something he must do.

It would be just like any other day if hadn't just committed a murder. On someone he held dear.

"Of course, who do you think I am?" Satoru swiftly replied, sounding smug—or at least tried to. "I'm the strongest. I’m unscat—"

"No, not that." You frowned, meeting his gaze squarely. "After everything."

Satoru struggled to choose how he should react, partly because most of his energy had gone after walking Yuta back and reassuring him earlier, and by default, the two of you should be hellbent on hating each other and wishing for this contract to end soon.

"Aww, are you worried about me?" he quipped with a touch of sarcasm just because he had to, to show you that it wasn't enough to ruffle him.

Because he is still the strongest, even when alone. Especially when he is alone.

You let out a sigh, looking away. "Can't I?"

"Whoa, that's sweet of—"

"Don't fool yourself," you stated in straight-laced manner, meeting his gaze with a composed expression. "You're not okay. You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did."

You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did.

Despite himself, his smile fell, and his chest burns. What is this? Were you sympathizing with him?

Does that mean that you don't see him as the entity... that was the strongest?

Before now, Satoru remembered you as the most uncooperative Kyoto girl he had ever met. Your first meeting in high school sealed your fate as the two of you could hardly get along. You didn't mince words, you didn't take shit from anyone else—heck, sometimes when he thought of you, what came up to mind was an impenetrable diamond.

Which was why he chose you. You were someone he could trust. You were pretty in the eyes and certainly wouldn't bore him either. His reasons were purely based on logic. And after four months with you, Satoru came to a conclusion that you indeed fulfilled all his expectations, if not more.

And he felt comfortable, or dare he say, secure even. He felt like he had gained a friend, who could see past his bravado and wouldn't judge him for it.

"You're..." you sighed, casting a sympathetic glance at him, your forehead slightly creased. At that moment, Satoru couldn't help but think you were incredibly endearing, fretting over him. "...an idiot."

"Heh." I really am, aren't I?

"I never knew him well..." you chose your words carefully, hesitant. "Did you try to convince him, before this?"

He barked a bitter laugh. "I did, we even made a scene in front of freaking KFC," he remarked with a scoff. "He didn't listen to me, until the very end."

You wanted to tell him “You have done everything you could” but the words faltered on your tongue. You couldn't bring yourself to say it when you saw the faint quiver of his lips, the slump of his shoulders—the very sight of a boy grieving the loss of his friend.

Your heart pricked too, somehow, seeing that expression on him. And you once again realized that your silly, exalted husband was just as human as anyone else who made him think he wasn’t.

"And you know what he said in the end?" Satoru's tone was flippant, as if asking the most normal thing around, but carried a trace of grief, evident in the slight drop in his tone if you squinted. "He said he didn't regret it, not even a bit."

"I'm sorry," was all you could manage.

Satoru's smile was lopsided. Now that he had finally accepted it, something inside him finally bleeds, and it freaking hurts. The pain gripped his chest like a swirling inferno.

But then, you boldly clasped his hand in yours, gently tracing soothing circles on its back.

"What?" he peered at you, feeling a ghost of a smile forming.

"Consider this emotional support."

And he chuckled softly. Despite the lingering ache, despite the gloom he was sure he would carry for the rest of his life, he felt the pain was more bearable with you by his side, somewhat.

How?

You blamed it on the alcohol, because it was MONTH FIVE and you were kissing Gojo Satoru, daringly.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you rasped between kisses, breathless, as your own sinful hands plucked the buttons off his shirt. The intoxication might have played a part, but the intense heat coursing through you made it hard to think straight.

Satoru crashed his lips against yours again, consumed by blind lust. "Yeah, we shouldn't," he replied in a rush. His breath was hot as he trailed his lips down your jaw and neck next, savoring the softness of your skin.

You two had attended a banquet for the elite, and you were unbelievably beautiful. Standing by his side as his wife, you drew admiring glances, with everyone marveling at what a remarkable couple you made. The Gojo heir who was born with the legendary Limitless and the Kamo heiress, as lovely as her clan's name was powerful.

His deft hands roamed the curves of your body, exploring every inch of you. The warmth of his hands tickled something inside you as you closed your eyes to sink into this very moment. Next you knew, his bare body was against yours and you were stripped out of your evening dress.

Lust flickered in his honored eyes, as he took in the sight of you in your undergarments.

"You're really pretty, you know," he whispered. The intensity with which his eyes scanned your form made you nearly squirm. "Shame we don't always get along."

"You're one to talk," you retorted, a hint of exasperation in your tone, as you willed all other thoughts away. Thoughts like what comes after this. Thoughts like—

Is it heaven or sin, if you feel both at once?

His thumb tenderly caressed your plush lips, a hint of a smirk on his beautiful face.

He has long been thinking about your body. He was but a man, after all. He just didn't expect that you wanted this too.

There was always this tension, only this time, neither of you could hold it back anymore. Perhaps it was impulse—hell, most certainly it is, but there was another thing, something more that even Gojo Satoru still didn't dare to say out loud.

"Eager, are we?" he taunted when you leaned in, yearning for the touch of his lips on yours again.

You huffed. “Shut up and kiss me.”

A rush of heat flooded your cheeks at the slip of those words. You were about to rectify it, taken aback by your own boldness, but then he drew you close, silencing any further protest with a gentle hush—

"Too late, sweetheart," his husky voice entered your ears, lips curling into the most wicked smile, and you were in a trance. And Satoru was once again convinced, that choosing you as his wife was the rightest thing there was.

If the two of you went with this, then there would be consequences. Things would become more complicated, harder to sort out.

But, he decided, as he captured your lips in another heated kiss, everything else can wait.

MONTH SIX, and you were dreading the day of your divorce.

You brought this upon yourself. Whenever you reminisced about that night, you wanted to smack yourself in the face and bang your head against the nearest wall.

This marriage has a time limit. And you were doing it out of convenience in the first place.

You weren't supposed to… goddammit—fall in love with him.

But what's done is done, there is no going back in time. Awkward exchanges and lingering stares had been gnawing at your insides these days, and you were sure Satoru too must have noticed them too. You two used to be more relaxed with each other, and he'd even flirt with you, but weeks ever since that night of drunken passion, you almost reverted back to your high school personas—ignoring each other.

This was tough. You didn't like this. And more than that, you were faced with a more pressuring matter...

Gojo Satoru, with everything he possessed, could have had any woman he wanted. This arrangement with you was temporary in the first place, soon he would forget you and flit to the next woman.

The thought made your heart ache, because you had involuntarily gave your heart away to him. Siiigh… What a predicament you put yourself into, huh?

With just a month left together, maybe you should just make the best of it.

. . .

If you thought that things were any better with Satoru, then you were sorely wrong because he too, was debating with himself often nowadays.

Days spent with you were fun and fulfilling. You irked expression somehow had made its mark in his heart. You were pretty, fit to be by his side publicly and preferably, behind the closed doors. With you, he didn't feel the need to carry this facade of being strong—he could be a clown tripping over his own trap and you would amuse him with your deadpan expression.

And ever since that night, he was constantly reminded by how soft your skin was against his. It almost drove him crazy now that he was deprived of it.

How was it the last month already? He wasn't ready to let you go yet.

When he got back home later after his class ended and found you in the dinner table setting the food, all he could muster was, "Hey. Haven't eaten?"

You whirled around to face him in surprise. "Oh... you're back. Just about to. Want to join me?"

Of course he would. And yet as the two of you sat down, it was so painfully awkward Satoru felt like he was dying inside.

Why couldn't he pull off a smart line or two? Where did his suaveness go? He was smoother than this, surely, with his colorful history. One night of passion was supposed to enhance the relationship, not to derail it. What happened to you both?

The salt was near his side when you reached to grab it and bumped into his hand. "Uh-oh."

Turning towards you, he found your spooked expression and your adorable eyes widening in surprise. "S-sorry..."

It was just freaking salt! Salt! Why on earth were you apologizing?!

Enough, he thought. This utter madness of being jumpy with each other. He'd start from his side.

Does he want you to keep being his wife even after all this ends? Yes.

Why? All reasons already listed above.

Does this mean he likes you? Apparently and supposedly, yes. Because if it isn't then he doesn't know what this funny feeling driving him mad is.

With that sorted out, then he only had one more thing to confirm. He put down his spoon and crossed his arms together. "Tell me the truth. Do you like living with me?"

His question obviously took you by surprise. "Huh? What brought this on?"

"Just give me an answer."

"You're so pushy," you grumbled, lips pursed, and he felt like you were finally back to your usual dynamics somewhat. Good.

"Sooo, the verdict? Do you enjoy being with me or not?"

Because to him, it was a resounding yes and more.

Ignoring the warmth that surged to your cheeks, you rolled your eyes. "Surprisingly, not bad, yeah," you admitted, mustering the courage to meet his gaze. "You're annoying, an idiot, a bit crazy—"

"Hey!"

"—but eventually you're still... manageable," you added, feeling your face truly start to sizzle. But covered it up by looking down and playing with your fingers as you still had more to go on. "What I want to say is... I'm glad that I agreed to this—with you—because I can’t imagine it with anyone else."

An unfamiliar tingling emotion rushed to his chest as his face too started to heat up, letting your words sink in. Is he blushing? Oh God. He sure is. And so did he feel hella giddy.

Then it’s sealed.

Suddenly he procured a piece of paper from his work uniform and showed it to you. You first saw his lazily scrawled signature before it dawned on you.

The contract. You almost forgot that you made him sign that looming piece of paper. You were almost dismayed, thinking that he would end this right then and there, but then—

“Well, then… I suppose we no longer need this.”

Riiip~

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when Gojo Satoru tore out your contract right in front of your face, the most brilliant of his devilish grin adorned his handsome face, as he took of his blindfold to see you far clearly than ever. Heavens, you are cute, he thought.

“Soooo~ seems like you’re stuck with me from now on!”

You gaped, awestruck at the blatant meaning of it all, feeling how your heartbeat started to pick up the pace, when he pulled the rag out of your feet once more by tilting his head to the side, looking at you with a winning smile.

“Let’s start over! What did they say again? Ah, yeah. Here’s to the first day of our lives!”

[gojonanami]

ALL'S FAIR (IN LOVE AND MERGERS) ✩ SATORU GOJO

✴︎ summary: you're not sure what's worse -- being an arranged marriage or being an arranged marriage with the person who used to be your best friend. ✴︎ contents: 18+ only, nsfw, arranged marriage au, gojo and reader are both heirs to large companies, childhood best friends to enemies to lovers, lots of fluff + banter, gojo is down bad, geto makes an appearance, handjobs (f!+m! receiving), oral (f!+m! receiving), creampie, unprotected sex, dom! + sub!gojo, degradation (slut), breeding kink, gojo has a praise kink, semi public sex, office sex, tiny amount of sexting, under the desk oral (m!receiving), pet names (sweetheart, princess, baby), pregnancy mentions ✴︎ wc: 16,381 (why do i do this to myself?)

“Why do you look so down, Princess?” Your eyes flicker up from your book, forcing your expression to stay disinterested — the one emotion Satoru hated, “shouldn’t you share your feelings with your fiancé?” 

“Don’t call yourself that,” you snap, and his lips curl at your reaction, “what are you so smug about? You’re stuck in the same position as me,” 

“And what’s that?” You close your book, glaring daggers at his all too perfect face. 

“Marrying your worst enemy.” 

It wasn’t always like this. 

Satoru Gojo used to be your friend — your best friend in fact. The fact your families’ companies were rivals often meant you ran in the same social circles more often than not. And it meant more than one boring adult party that the two of you were stuck with each other.

The two of you had become inseparable — attending the same prestigious schools with the most pretentious children, though the two of you were no exceptions. But you liked to think you were. 

And you didn’t realize your feelings for Satoru, until someone else had. 

“Do you want to hang out on Friday?” You ask, flipping through the channels as the two of you watched TV, looking for something other than the second half of movies and the reruns of shows you didn’t care for. 

“I can’t, I’m going to the formal,” he replies, not looking up from his phone, and you pause. 

“You’re going to that?” You raise an eyebrow, “we’ve never went,” 

“Well I never had someone ask me who I wanted to go with,” his eyes flicker up from his phone, a smirk on his lips, “you jealous?” 

Your reply leaves your lips like whiplash, “You wish,” you cross your arms, but you can’t help ask the question burning on your lips, “who are you going with?” 

“Akari,” and you scoff, “what?” 

“That girl goes out with a new guy every week,” you shake your head, “you’re better off staying at home with me,” 

“So you are jealous,” he hums, leaning back on the couch, “if you wanted to go with me, all you had to do was ask, Princess,” 

Your cheeks flush, which you make up for in indignancy and sharp words, “Don’t call me that,” the nickname your family affectionately had called you had become Satoru’s favorite thing to call you, “I’m just telling you to be careful — that girl isn’t someone you should trust with your feelings,” 

“I think I’ll use my own judgment instead of someone who hasn’t even been on a single date before,” his tone is far too biting and his accuracy is far too sharp — and you can’t stop your face from dropping, and his lips part - regret flashing across his features, “princess—“ 

“Go home, Satoru,” you rise, brushing past him, “you know the way out,” 

“Princess—“ he tries to reach for your hand, but you slap it away. His hand retracts like he’d been burned. 

“Please, go,” you open the door for him, and he does, and little do you know that would be one of the last times you spoke. 

The day of the formal arrives, the two of you hadn’t seen each other outside of class since that day. But Satoru did see you at the dance that night - on the arm of his former best friend, Suguru — the same one he had a falling out with a year ago. He doesn’t say a word to you, but you don’t miss the hurt in his eyes - but you wonder why it was there in the first place - and why he was acting like you put it there. 

It all goes to hell after. 

The Gojo Corporation poaches one of your family’s biggest clients in a shady backroom deal, breaking their truce and your family’s trust. Arguments and stress reach a peak over the phone and lines are drawn and metaphorical guns are drawn. 

And you and Satoru are caught in the crossfire. 

Not that you weren’t firing shots yourself. 

It wasn’t until you pulled Satoru into a secluded classroom, and you shut the door behind the two of you. Even with the sunglasses perched on his nose as always, he flinches in the bright light of the sun setting behind you, dipping the classroom in a blazing orange  — light sensitivity nearly required him to wear his sunglasses out, but he certainly made a statement in them — though what didn’t he make a statement in?  

“What are we going to do about our families?” you chew your lip — you had listened this morning to your father rant about the Gojo family — unkind words to say about them all, even Satoru himself, who your father had treated as a second son — and now he was grilling you about what you had told him about the family business. 

“What can we do?” His arms are crossed and his gaze is upwards, “they are going to do what they want,” 

You stare at him, your heart cracks, blood rushing in your ears, “Satoru, if this gets worse, we won’t be able to be friends,” you refuse to let your voice break. 

“So what? I know the way out, don’t I?” But your heart did break, “I’m sure Suguru could comfort you,” 

Your eyes burn, but you can’t, you can’t let him see you cry, “Why are you so upset? You had a date—“ 

“And mine wasn’t the person who backstabbed me,” he bites back, “what my family did is done, and so are we,” and he doesn’t look back when he leaves. 

And it was good — because he didn’t see you cry. 

And now you sat with him in your living room, trying to process the fact you would be legally married soon enough. 

“Worst enemy? I know you liked to embellish princess, but that seems excessive,” he snorts, “glad to know I haven’t escaped your thoughts these years,” 

“Don’t flatter yourself,” and he grins his shit eating grin, and it’s almost as if no time has passed, except the person who sits before you isn’t a seventeen year old with an attitude of a shithead — it’s an adult man (albeit with the same attitude). 

“Don’t need to - you already do that for me, baby,” he winks, and you don’t know whether you want to slap him or strangle him. Either way, you wanted him to shut up, “shouldn’t we at least try to make the best of this?” 

“The best of what?” You scoff, ready for your veins to burst out of your head, if only to spare you the agony of this conversation, “Gojo, we were best friends a million years ago and then we weren’t and now we’re getting married - all on the whims of our families, so how do we make the best of it?” 

He pauses a moment, almost thoughtfully, “I was your best friend?” 

And you rise to your feet, “this is impossible,” you brush past him, but he catches you by your wrist, his thumb grazing your pulse. 

“Princess, I’m sorry,” he says, and you stop, meeting his gaze reluctantly, his lips part, “that you were so annoying in high school—“ 

“Fuck you,” and you storm off as he cackles, but you don’t notice the small smile on his lips that stays as he watches you. 

And nor do you hear him say, “God, I missed you.” 

“This is ridiculous,” you mutter under your breath, as you place back the millionth dress you looked at, “we’re hardly celebrities but we have to make a public appearance?” 

Your families wanted the marriage to be portrayed as a love marriage in the media - childhood friends falling in love after reconnecting - the thing of love stories. The thing that would circle the drain on social media on cute threads of meetcutes and what ifs. When in fact, you were being forced on a shopping date with an already well paid and positioned paparazzi ready to take pictures of this charade. 

“You may not be, Princess, but I am quite the catch,” Satoru takes the attention in stride, not only of the paparazzi, but the passersby who gawked at the two of you. It was true, Satoru was nearly always listed as an eligible bachelor in far too many of these lists that existed, if not the eligible bachelor, and yet here you were, glued to his side like some taudry accessory. 

“So does that mean if I just toss you away, someone else will catch you?” You grumble, and he looks at you over the rim of his sunglasses. 

“Like it or not, you caught me,” he flashes you those pearly whites, and you supposed he blinded you as you stumble forward, tripping. But you don’t kiss the pavement — but you almost wish you do. He catches you, his arm around your waist, the other on your shoulder, and his eyes graze over you in a flash of concern, and then amusement, “and I’m not going anywhere this time,” 

And you flush, the clicks of cameras in the distance snapping you back to reality, as you right yourself with a fake smile plastered on your lips. You brush his shirt off as lovingly as you can, “And if I go?” 

His lips only curl into his obnoxiously charming smile, as he gestures for you to walk on, “I’ll follow, Princess,” 

Finally the trip is over, and Satoru is driving the both of you back, “I’m surprised you took a day off for this,” he remarks, “usually you work all week,” 

“Well I wasn’t given much of a choice, now was I?” And then you glance at him, furrowing your brow, “how do you know how often I work?” 

“What’s the phrase? Keep your enemies close, and your lovers closer?” He gives a wry grin as you scowl at him, “you’re not surprised I kept tabs on you, are you?” 

“Well, no,” because you did the exact same. You pinned the blame on late nights and doom scrolling on social media — curiosity killed the cat. 

“And now I know you kept tabs on me,” he looks far too satisfied with himself, “I’m flattered,” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you wave him off, “it’s not like you’re that interesting to begin with,” 

“Sure,” he smirks, and then you glance outside, noticing you were getting further out from home rather than closer. 

“Where are we going?” You sit up, glancing around — you didn’t recognize the area. 

“Oh, you didn’t think our date was over yet, did you?” his lips curl, his eyes still on the road, “we are just going to a more private location,” 

“If you take me to a hotel, I will slap you,” you murmur, and he laughs, a sound that makes your stomach flip. 

“I didn’t know a princess’s mind could be in the gutter,” he remarks, his fingers flexing on the wheel, a small infinity tattoo on his ring finger, and your mind really then all but fled to the gutter as you thought what else he could use those fingers for. 

“Oh my mind goes a lot of places,” this was growing more dangerous — for your tongue and for your heart. 

And he notices your gaze flickering to his hands, and his lips curl, “I think I’d like to familiarize myself with the places your mind goes, Princess,” You flush, “but that’s for a different day.” 

“Where are you taking me anyway?” 

“We’re almost there, just enjoy the ride,” you eventually pull up to a park, and he leaves the car, opening the door for you, “after you, my lady,” 

You slide out of the car, as he shuts the door behind you, and then pulls a basket out of the back, “Is there tape and rope in there?” You raise an eyebrow. 

“Didn’t know you were into that,” he winks, as you glare at him, “it’s a picnic basket - this is a nice spot to watch the sunset,” 

“You watch sunsets?” 

“Only with you,” you roll your eyes. 

“Such a dork - are these the lines you use on all your dates? And don’t say only with me,” you add quickly, and he snorts. 

“You catch on quick,” and he takes your hand, leading you along, “come on,” 

His hand envelops yours, his fingers eventually intertwining with yours, his warmth flooding your body, but you can’t urge yourself to pull away. 

A bottle of sparkling cider and a charcuterie board later, the two of you watch the sun begin its descent, blazing colors bleeding into one another. 

“Why are you doing this?” You ask, looking over your glass as you sip, “even when we used to hang out, I was the one to bring the snacks,” 

“Well times change,” he replies, “plus you’re the one who always stopped me from buying snacks,” 

“You always bought only sweets — it was always chocolate, sugar, and desserts,” you roll your eyes, “I see you got over that,” 

“Nah, I just decided to buy things I know you like,” and your heart traitorously squeezes, but then he points, “look,” and your gaze falls onto the sunset and you gasp softly. 

“It’s beautiful,” you sigh, and you don’t notice Satoru’s gaze on your face, a small smile on his lips. 

“It is,” and you look back at him, his eyes shifting to you again. 

“You never answered my question,” you say, “why are we doing this?” 

“Why wouldn’t we? We’re getting married, Princess, did you forget?” He expertly dodges the question, swiftly leaping over a landmine, but you weren’t one to mince words or hesitate to do a direct assault. 

“We’re getting married, it doesn’t mean we have to date,” you tilt your head, “Gojo, tell me—“

“Call me Satoru,” his words are so soft, hesitant even, as if his words could break apart any second if he had spoken them any quieter. 

It’s a fragility he doesn’t often grace you with - that’s he’s maybe never given to you, and you don’t wish to break it.

But you’re also scared - scared that this will break yours. 

“Satoru,” you whisper, and he smiles — the same smile he’d greet you with when you would meet up after school, the same smile when he’d beat you at whatever game you guys were playing, and the same smile you hadn’t seen in so long, “why are you doing all of this?” 

“Is it not obvious?” He’s leaning closer and you only realize that you’re doing the same when your wrist hurts from leaning on your hand. 

“Nothing is obvious when it comes to you, Satoru,” his lips warm yours with his breath, and the sun has set - there’s no other explanation for the warmth blooming on your skin other than him— 

Ring. Ring. Ring. 

His phone ringing sends both of you flinching apart, but his eyes don’t leave you for a lingering moment, before he picks up. 

“Hello,” his voice is unwavering even after the moment you shared, you barely hear what he says over the blood thundering in your ears, “yes, we’ll be home shortly. Ok. Bye,” 

He turns to look back at you, “My parents were wondering where we went,” and you nod, “we should get back,” and he begins to pack away the things, 

“Satoru—“ you start, but he grabs your hands, tugging you forward. 

“What?” he smiles, “not ready to part with me yet, princess?” 

You scowl, pushing him away, brushing past him to the car, “Forget it,” 

And he catches you by your wrist and pulls you back to him, your back against his front, “I don’t want to forget it,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “I—” 

And his phone rings again, and he sighs, showing you that it was your father this time, putting his phone on silent, “Our parents have impeccable timing,” and the moment is broken, as the two of you walk back to the car in relative silence, the sun long sunk below the horizon, and the moment along with it. 

The wedding comes and goes without much ado — it was a private ceremony done with only your families and a few close family friends. And aside from a photo shoot that was to be “leaked” of the two of you looking far too lovey dovey that wound up circulating the media drain and ended up causing you and Satoru to keep a low profile for a week or two, not much of your life changed. The only thing being that you and Satoru slowly start to move in together, each moving your things into separate bedrooms, not that you’re around enough to even notice a shift as the work piled on due to the merger, only accumulates, and as do your late nights. 

You come home again, back to your shared apartment, late at night, shutting the door softly behind you. You slip your shoes off, along with your jacket by the door, before setting your things down. You stretch your sore muscles, your stomach crying for mercy of the deprivation you had put it through today, and you allow it to lead you to the kitchen. 

Satoru was surprisingly neat, aside from his own room that was a disaster zone not worth entering. The living spaces were always clean, as was the kitchen (though you had a sneaking suspicion he had hired a cleaning service to specifically tidy up when you were gone (due to the lingering lemony scent every surface had at times). You rummage through the refrigerator as quietly as you could, but not quietly enough as the lights flick on, and you feel akin to a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. 

“I feel like I’ve seen the mailman more than my own wife this week,” Satoru stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame of the door, a small grin on his lips, but a hint of something else in his eyes — concern? You don’t have the time to decipher the feeling, as your mind chooses to replay the phrase “my wife” on repeat. 

“The merger has been killer to deal with — all the diligence requests has buried us,” you grumble, as you grab a box of cereal off the top of the refrigerator and the milk from the inside, and he’s holding a bowl and a spoon, “thanks,” as you reach for it, he holds it away from you. 

“You know there’s something called delegating that you should try sometime, princess,” he says, tilting his head, “otherwise, you’re likely to run yourself into the ground,” 

“It sounds like you care,” he puts down the bowl and spoon, grabbing the cereal and milk from you, and fixing a bowl for you, as you rub your eyes, sitting on the stool by the island. 

His lips curl, “Who said I didn’t?” 

You lay on the counter, staring up at him, “Didn’t know my husband could be anything but annoying,” and you enjoy the way his eyebrows shoot up, and it may have been your tired eyes, but you swore a small pink flush settled his way onto his cheeks, “cute,” you mumble, the word escaping you before you could stop it. 

“What?” his eyes snap to yours, but he only finds them closed, the soft snores from your lips told him you weren’t pretending, as he stares at you, biting his lip, before sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose, “what are you doing to me, princess?” he murmurs. 

And the next morning when you wake, you find yourself tucked into bed, as you roll over, to find your alarms had been turned off, and you were far too late to several meetings you had that morning. 

You jolt up, before you find a note stuck to your shirt, you pause in your panic, to peel it off and read it:

Canceled your meetings for today and had your staff handle the ones they could deal with. You’re taking a break. You need it. - Satoru. 

You wanted to protest, but even as you willed yourself to try and check your email, your body was screaming in agreement with Satoru, and you sighed, lying back down in bed, as you drifted into a dreamless sleep, with the note still in your hand. 

~~~~~

“Gojo, get back in bed,” you cross your arms in front of his doorway, “you’re sick,” 

“I’m fine,” he pouts, his normally pale skin flushed with a red tinge that gave away his fever, his eyes bloodshot from a restless night, and yet he still looked as perfect as ever, if not a bit rumpled from his askew hair and ruffled clothes, “I have to—” 

“Rest,” you say, gently pushing him backwards towards his bed, “you need rest. You made me rest, and now it’s your turn,” 

“But—” 

“Satoru,” and the use of his name stops him in his tracks, as his knees buckle as his legs hit the end of his bed, “please?” 

His resistance crumbles, “Princess, I’m fine—” and you press your forehead to his, making his breath catch, your face far too close far too fast. 

“You’re burning up,” you ease him back into bed, as you roll your sleeves up, “will you be okay? I’m going to run out and get some supplies - have you taken any medicine?” 

He shakes his head, “You can send out someone,” he says, reaching for his phone, but you grab it, “Princess-“ 

“I’m texting everyone that you’re sick and that you can’t make it in for the next two days while you recover,” you pocket his phone, putting it on silent, “consider this payback,” and you’re pulling on your jacket, “and I’m going to get you some things. I don’t need to send someone out. Do you want anything? I can’t get anything sweet because it will make your cough worse, but is there anything that you want?” 

He shakes his head, as you snap your fingers and head out of the room, before returning with cold medicine, “I’ll give you this for now, and then I’ll grab some more while I’m out,” 

You pour the medicine into the cup, and he sits up as best he could, reaching for the medicine cup, but you cup his chin, feeding it to him. He feels like his body is burning hotter from your touch than it is the fever,  “I have to make sure you drink all of it, you can’t leave half of it in the cup like you did when we were kids,” 

“You remember that?” he mumbles, as you help him lie down again, your hands gentle as you help lean back, and you tilt your head. 

“I remember every ridiculous thing you did,” you snort, as you check to make sure you got everything — phone, wallet, keys — “just rest here, and call me if you need anything, ok?” his eyes are already starting to droop, heavy with sleep, and he gives a small nod. 

And he catches you by your wrist, “Do you have to go?” he mumbles, pulling your hand close to his face, “I don’t want you to go,” his words slur, and he’s asleep in a moment, his hand still clutching yours to his face, lips brushing against your palm. 

Heat flares up your cheeks, as you stand, motionless, his soft snores filling the room, as you manage to tug your hand away, and you stand over him, his mouth in an adorable pout, as sweat glistened on his forehead, white locks sticking to the damp skin. You leave for a moment to grab a cold compress for his forehead, and you come back, brushing his hair back to place the compress on. He shivers ever so slightly, but you just rub his head slowly, and he drifts back into sleep. 

“I’ll be right back,” you whisper, and you wonder, how often has Satoru been cared for by maids or employees rather than his family? How often had they passed the buck of caring for their son to others as if it was more of a chore than a privilege to take care of someone they loved. 

You leave his phone on video call with yours so you can keep an eye on him as he sleeps, even if you were going down the street, you didn’t want to leave him alone completely. Instead of music, you listened to the cacophony of his soft snores and shifting of his sheets. You grabbed the things you needed - medicine, supply for meals, vitamin water, vitamin c supplements, and anything else you could think of. 

You return, door shutting softly behind you as you hang up the call, and set everything down on the counter. You poke your head into Satoru’s room to find him still fast asleep, and you remove the cold compress, going to replace it with a new one, but his hand catches yours as it brushes your forehead, and he mumbles your name. 

And you flush — were you sure you weren’t getting sick at this point? 

You sigh, running your fingers through his hair, “You’re as touchy as you were when we were kids,” and he was — there wasn’t a moment that Satoru wasn’t all over you before the ages of puberty — holding hands, hugging, even laying on top of you — but it was innocent. But even as you got older, it was poking, it was a leg over yours, it was grabbing your wrist instead of your hand. 

And now, your hand was dwarfed by his, consuming your wrist and hand with his own, and it was so warm — though exacerbated by his fever. And you couldn’t help but want to lace your fingers through his. But — you pulled your hand away and replace his cold compress — you couldn’t afford thoughts like that. 

Not now. 

You cooked soup for him, filled with vegetables and nutrients that he clearly did not get enough of, made freshly squeezed orange juice, and put the supplements you wanted him to take on the tray you had found in the kitchen. 

You washed your hands, as you start to clean up, your back to his room, and you hear Satoru say your name. 

You turn and see him in the doorway, “What are you doing?” 

“I should be asking you that,” he murmurs, rubbing his eyes, “what’s all this?” 

“Lunch,” you walk over, waving him back into bed, “you need to rest,” 

“Did you make me lunch?” he asks slowly, and you help him back into bed, as he frowns, “you didn’t have—” 

“You’re my husband, Satoru,” you say, tilting your head, “I’m going to take care of you and not let you work yourself to the bone while you have a cold,” 

And his lips curl at the words slowly, “Your husband,” he repeats, as if the words were foreign to him, and your cheeks flush as your words that were embarrassing enough to say linger in the air, “thank you,” he mumbles, as you nod, trying to calm your utterly burning cheeks before entering with the tray. 

Satoru sits in bed still, more coherent than a few minutes before, a small smile on his lips as you enter his view, and you place the tray carefully on his bed, “Will you feed me?” And your eyes flit up to his innocent baby blues full of skies that you couldn’t say no to — and he knew that, “please?” 

And now you’re feeding him, your lips carefully blowing on the hot soup as you spoon fed him, and he takes each one, “is it good?” 

He nods, “It is, I didn’t know you could cook. The last thing I remember you making me was a microwave brownie that you burned,” and you rolled your eyes. 

“That was because you told me to microwave it for too long,” you pout, and he laughs, sending him into a coughing fit, “karma,” and he scowls at you, before his lips split into a grin, “what?” 

“Must have been pretty good in my past life,” he says, as you blow on another spoonful, “to end up with a pretty little wife like you, Princess,” 

And you nearly drop the spoon, a few droplets slipping from the utensil, as he makes you flustered for the eighteenth time today — “Satoru,” you chide, and you’re not even sure what you are chiding him for — his word on a loop in your mind, “i think you’re high on cold medicine, or your fever,”

You don’t think he had ever called you pretty before. 

And he leans forward pressing his forehead to yours, “I have no fever right now,” he whispers, his eyes glancing at the tray, “and I haven’t taken my cold medicine yet,” 

Your words catch in your throat, and you’re swallowing thickly, as your eyes drift to his lips and back again, “Toru,” and you can’t lean away from him, he’s pulling you in, like he always did. 

But then he pulls back, his cheeks flushed, “I think I should lie down,” and you blink, as you nod hastily. 

“Of course,” you grab the tray and flee, leaving his medicine and water on the bedside table, heart thumping against your ribs and blood rushing to your cheeks. 

And you don’t hear him grumble, “If only I wasn’t sick.” 

After Satoru gets better, you barely see him. It feels empty in the house without his presence. You had grown accustomed to his loud, obtrusive presence, the clothes half thrown in the laundry basket, his snacks stacked up in the pantry and sometimes on the counters, and his cologne wafting through the halls. It seems all of that has faded with time, as he does his best to spend his time at work, and away from you. 

After the billionth time of this, you get a phone call from his colleague, Nanami, asking for you to come and fetch him. You furrow your brow as he texts you the address of a bar near his work, and you arrive to find him passed out at a table, drink glasses and small plates littered the tabletop, his pale skin flushed, as he snored slightly as he slept. 

His colleague too was flushed, but still sat with drink in hand looking utterly irritated and bemused, “How much did he drink?” 

“Maybe two drinks?” and you raise an eyebrow, “he’s a lightweight, but he likes to pretend he isn’t,” he snorts, shaking his head, “did you two have a fight?” 

You tilt your head, as you check on him, fingers brushing over his skin — he was so warm from the alcohol, “No, why do you ask?” 

And Satoru is mumbling your name, again and again, pouting, “Is that you, my wife?” you flush, and that was your cue to get him out of there. Nanami helps you get him to his work car, luckily that came equipped with a driver, and you slide in beside him, as he dozes, his head drifting to your shoulder. His breath is warm against your neck, as he nestles into the soft skin of your nape, and you can feel his lips move, only catching your name between soft sighs and snores. 

“Satoru,” you mutter, brushing his hair from his eyes, “what did you do?” 

The driver helps you get him inside, and you’re left with him, his body leaning against yours on the couch, as you rouse him, “Satoru, wake up,” your hands cup his cheeks, and his eyes flutter open blearily. 

You can still smell the scent of alcohol on his breath — and you know it’s sweet from the scent that drifts from him. Sometimes you wonder if he would taste sweet with how much sugar he consumes, but you brush that thought to the back of your head, as he finally speaks. 

“Are you a dream?” he murmurs, and you have to suppress your laugh at his puppy dog stare. 

“Don’t think so, Satoru,” you pinch his cheek lightly, “see? I’m real,” 

He smiles, so gentle that it almost takes you aback, “Too real,” his hand slides over yours, flattening it against his cheek, “your hand is so soft, just like when we were kids, and we’d always hold hands anywhere we went,” 

You swallow thickly, wondering if your cheeks were hotter than his were from the alcohol, “Well my family hasn’t sold me into manual labor yet, so they’ll stay that way,” and his eyes widen almost comically. 

“I wouldn’t let them do that,” he says, almost every other word slurred, “can’t do that to my wife,” and your traitorous heart squeezes, despite itself, despite everything telling you that it didn’t mean anything — that he was drunk — and the million other reasons to brush it away, your heart does what it does best — takes it to heart, “I missed you so much,” 

And he’s burying his face in your shoulder, warm breath against your skin making you shiver as you hold him gently, “then why have you been avoiding me?” He’s mumbling into your shoulder now, as you can’t help but laugh, “Stop, you’re tickling me.”

And his stare lifts and settles upon you, stopping your breath in its tracks, “I didn’t want to avoid you, I just was…” he mumbles something incoherent, “I couldn’t face you,” 

“Why?” and it’s objectively cute the way he pouts, his face scrunching up like a child, his brow adorably furrowed, as he mutters under his breath slurred words you can’t make out, “let’s get you to bed — if you promise not to avoid me anymore,” you hold up a finger to his face. 

He nods, lips still in the same pout, “promise,” he murmurs, as you help him into bed, but as you do, he grabs you, tugging you into bed with him with a yelp, his arms trapped you against him, as his face snuggles into your back, “stay,”

Your skin burns at his touch, his face buried into your back, his arms wrapped impossibly around you, “Satoru—” 

“Please?” and the resistance you have crumbles, as you sigh, relaxing as best you could into his touch, “thank you, Princess,” he mumbles something else you can’t make out, before falling asleep. 

And you bite your lip, ignoring how your skin feels under his touch — how were you ever going to sleep now? 

But you do. 

Satoru wakes with a slightly pounding head, a small groan caught in the back of his throat, as he stirs at the bright sunlight streaming in, his eyes fluttering awake to find you. His breath catches, as he stares at you. Your mouth slightly ajar, you softly snore as you sleep, your head resting against his arm, and he swallows thickly, as memories of last night trickle in.

And he nearly groans. He had avoided you to stop himself, to hold himself back from embarrassing himself, and he had gone and pulled you into bed with him after getting drunk. How pathetic was it that it only took you referring to him as your husband for all his walls to come crumbling down? Not that those walls ever stood a chance against you — it was easy for him to pull away from everyone, as if he had a barrier around him, stopping anything from coming near. But you — you were one thing that could penetrate his infinity — and the one thing he wanted to be infinite, if only for him. 

His cheeks burn at his revelations and he can only be thankful you’re still asleep as he stares at you — god, he had almost let it slip twice last night. He had mumbled it twice, but from what he remembered, you hadn’t made out the words. 

His cheeks burned, god he had said the words twice, and you didn’t even hear him, but the words had left his lips. And how many years had he been waiting to say them?

His fingers caress your cheek, making sure you were still asleep before he said them for a third time, “I love you.” 

“How many social events must be inflicted upon us?” you mutter, pressed next to Satoru at the bar, as Satoru sips a soda instead of the alcohol they offered — if only to avoid the disaster that was the last time. But still, the lack of alcohol only makes your touch worse without its dulling effects, “and why did we need to go to this?” 

“C’mon sweetheart, it’s not so bad,” Satoru smiles, his eyes skimming over your new suit that you had donned for the occasion, “I like seeing you all dressed up,” 

“Well I rather be dressed down at home,” and he raises an eyebrow and you flush, “i mean in a t-shirt and shorts, you absolute perv,” 

“Whatever you say, princess,” and you’re too busy elbowing him to notice who's walking over, until you hear your name. 

You spot Satoru’s eyes narrow, his lips pursed, as you spot Suguru holding a hand up in greeting, patented grin on his lips, “Yo!” 

“Suguru, it’s good to see you,” you greet, as he sweeps you up in a hug, and you shoot a look at Satoru, nudging him to be polite at the very least. 

“Satoru, long time no see,” Suguru says, and Satoru plasters a fake smile on his lips. 

“It has been,” and the three of you make pleasant small talk about your work — Suguru’s family was in a business adjacent to the work your families did. 

“I heard about the merger your companies are doing, how have preparations been?” you open your mouth to answer, but Satoru gets to it first, his arm curling around your waist. 

“It’s been going well, our marriage was the first step after all, wasn’t it, baby?” and you flush as Satoru does, doing your best not to glare at him. 

“It was,” you smile, as Suguru raises his eyebrows. 

“I hadn’t heard you both had married — congratulations,” 

And then you’re beckoned by your family, and you slip away for a moment, going to speak to them about one thing or another, leaving Satoru and Suguru alone. 

“It’s too bad we lost touch all these years,” Satoru sips at his drink. 

“You don’t have to say that, Satoru,” Suguru replies, his grin melting away, “I know part of the reason was the business with our families companies, but I also know that it was personal,” and Satoru follows his eyes to you, as you laugh at something your mother said, “how has married life been treating you both?” 

And Satoru glares, his grip tight around his glass, “Is your interest personal?” 

“It’s not, but I see that you still haven’t been honest with each other,” he smiles over the lip of his drink, “was this marriage arranged by your families?” and Satoru’s silence was enough to confirm it, “well you should be careful, a marriage is a fragile thing, especially without love,” 

“Is that a threat?” and Suguru’s dark irises meet his, full of mirth. 

“No, just an observation, Satoru,” and you make your re-appearance, looking between the pair, sensing the tension, as your hand curls around Satoru’s, “It was lovely seeing you both. I hope to see more of you.” 

And with that he’s gone, “What was that about?” you ask slowly, and Satoru can’t meet your gaze, only sipping his soda, “Satoru?” 

“It’s nothing, princess, don’t worry about it,” and you tilt your head, your brow furrowed. 

“That’s it,” you sigh, as you glance between the two of them, Suguru’s gaze still lingering on the two of you, “I know what this is about,” you declare, stepping ever closer to Satoru, your fingers brushing at his shoulder, sending his heart into a gallop. 

“Princess—” your hand is sliding up his neck, brushing at his undercut, and your lips curl. 

“I didn’t know you had an undercut,” and he can’t form words to respond to you, as you tug him closer, your lips were so close now, “it’s kind of hot,” and his mouth is so dry, his eyes can’t help but flicker down to your lips again, as you lean forward, pulling his head closer, closer, closer—

And you kiss him, it's barely a brush at first, but then you pull him in again, and he can taste the wine on your lips now, as your lips meet, his eyes fluttering shut as his hand slides to cup your face, the other around your waist. And finally you part, small pants leaving your lips, as your fingers toy with the hair resting on the back of his neck, smiling at him, as if you had done this a million times before. 

And he wanted to do it a million times more. His fingers trace the length of your jaw, delighting in the shiver you give as he touches you, and wondering what other noises he could pull from you. 

“Is he still watching?” you whisper, as you smooth over his collar, and he blinks, his eyes following yours to Suguru, who glances at the two of you before looking away, “think we convinced him?” 

And his heart sinks just as high as it had soared, “what?” he murmurs, confused. 

“He suspected us, right?” you continue with the phony smile on your lips, the heated lust in your gaze, and your soft touches — and it was all enough to break him. 

But he doesn’t. He’s Satoru Gojo — he can’t be allowed to break. 

So he gives a smile instead, “Yeah, I think we convinced him.” 

He can’t help be quiet on the drive home, and he senses your unease, fidgeting in the seat beside him, your attempts to fill the silence falling on deaf ears, and you eventually stop trying, settling to look out of the window instead, until the two of you pull inside your driveway. 

You both head inside, and the door shuts behind you, and he watches you struggle to take off your heels, the buckle not cooperating, as you lift your leg to undo it. 

But then he’s kneeling before you, undoing your heels for you, as you stammer, “No, Gojo, you don’t have to—”

But his touch is gentle as he helps you out of your heels, one by one, his fingers brushing against your ankles, and then he rises, and for a split second, you forgot how tall he really was. 

“No, I want to, because you’re my wife,” and his fingers brush against your jaw. “And I want your thoughts to be of me when I touch you, and not of someone else,” and he tilts your chin up, thumb dragging against your lips before he kisses you. 

It was gentle but insistent — and far, far too fleeting, as he pulls away, “and I’ve told you before — I’m your husband, call me Satoru.” 

And with that he’s gone, leaving you speechless and alone in your entryway. 

You can’t sleep. For several nights. 

You replay the moment over and over, the kiss, his words, and all of it. 

What the fuck. Were you really up all night because of Satoru Gojo? You lay on your stomach, kicking your feet in frustration as you bury your hot face in your pillow. Your husband was going to be the death of you. 

And especially with tomorrow. 

Satoru’s family was hosting an event to announce the merger, and you stood in your bathroom, getting ready. You had opted for a baby blue dress that Satoru had picked for you when he had insisted on taking you shopping. He had winked and said you could wear his gaze this way. And you had only rolled your eyes at the time, but now it felt you could feel his eyes upon you. 

“You look beautiful,” and you whirl around to find him standing in your doorway, a small smile on your lips, and you flush. It doesn’t go unnoticed, “is that all it takes to embarrass you now, Princess? I used to have to work a lot harder,” 

You glare at him, “Shut up,” and your eyes flick to his untied tie, and it’s unspoken, as you walk over to tie his tie for him, “how did you even tie this the day of the formal if you don’t know how to?” 

“I didn’t wear one,” he shrugs, his attention making you mess up the knot twice, “I only went to make you jealous anyway,” 

Your fingers pause, as your eyes meet, “What?” 

“I don’t want to play games anymore, Princess,” the back of his fingers brush against your cheek, “or at least, if I’m going to play, I’m going to play to win,” and you continue tying his tie, if only to distract yourself from your stomach doing flips, “do you know how it feels to want someone for so long only to end up married, but it’s not either of your choice?” And you swallow, not daring to look at him, “because I do.” 

“Satoru,” your hands are shaking now, “I-“

“I don’t expect an answer, I don’t expect anything to change,” he adjusts his tie as you finish, turning his collar down, his blue button up matching your dress perfectly, “but I wanted you to know where I stood, and know wherever you are,” his gaze rakes over your form, the same color as the dress than clung to your skin, “I’ll always be here for you,” 

“Satoru—“ but he gets a call — as always with impeccable timing, his parents were asking when they would be arriving. He hangs up shortly after, offering his arm with a smile. 

“Shall we?” And you take his arm, ignoring the flip your heart does when his arm curls around yours. 

The drive over is uneventful, but not the same can be said for the event itself. The merger event was being held at Satoru’s childhood home — the home Satoru had grown up in and around — and never wanted to be at. 

“Are you okay?” you ask, your arm still curled around Satoru’s arm, as you glance at him, his shoulders tense and lips tight, before your concern makes the tension melt away a moment, rolling off his shoulders like snow on a spring day. 

“I’m fine,” and you’re unconvinced, “just this place is like time has stood still,” he chuckles, his eyes finding the place where the two of you had cracked the chandelier fucking around with a ball inside, “look, still there,” 

You snort, “I’m surprised your mother never noticed,” 

“She did, she gave me hell for it,” he sips his drink, “I just didn’t tell you,” 

“Why?” 

“There was a lot I didn’t tell you,” his eyes snap to yours, his pain almost too visceral as he glances around the room he had grown up in — and you could feel him in this room, the ghost of his past roaming the halls, “why do you think I spent so much time at your house?” 

“Because of my incredible company?” you half-joke, lips forced into a small smile, but he laughs, rolling his eyes. 

“That too,” he hums, his fingers tracing up and down against your wrist sending a wave of heat down your spine. 

“Well, you always have an escape now, don’t you?” you intertwine your fingers, “our home is always graced with the presence of your wife,” 

He grins, the first actual smile you had seen all evening, “How lucky for you that it’s also graced with the presence of your incredibly handsome husband,”

And you open your mouth to respond, before Satoru’s father interrupts, his hand on Satoru’s shoulder, making him stiffen, “Son,” and his icy blue eyes slide to you, “and my daughter, would you mind if I steal my son for a moment?” it always struck you how different his eyes were from Satoru — the coldness as opposed to the warmth. 

You glance at Satoru, and he gives a slight nod, “No, of course not,” you step away, as he pulls Satoru into a side room, and you linger nearby for him, mingling as best you can, when Satoru emerges, eyes downcast and fists clenched, “Satoru-“ 

“I’m okay,” he plasters on an easy smile, “it’s fine—“ 

“We’re leaving,” you grab his hand, “let’s go,” and he’s staring at you, as you drag him from the party, wordless. 

“But your parents, my parents—” 

“Have done enough for us already,” you say, and the two of you walk to the car in silence, “I can drive—” 

“It’s ok, I got it,” and you both shut the doors, as he begins to drive. The ride home is quiet, and you glance at him here and there, but you hold your tongue, “you’re not going to ask?” 

“It’s your dad - do I need to ask?” You scoff, “It may has been years but I know he’s nothing but a bully — especially to you,” 

You may have been young, but you remembered the phone calls Satoru would get, the lectures about his potential and responsibilities as the next heir, the scoldings he’d get for anything less than perfect. And you remembered the look he had the next day — the same one he had when he had come out of that room. 

And you couldn’t protect him then, but you could do it now. 

He sighs as he pulls the car into the driveway, “You don’t deserve that, Toru,” 

“Then what do I deserve?” And he meets your gaze with glassy eyes, and you give a small smile, your fingers reaching for him, brushing along his jaw. 

“Love,” and you lean across the gap of the console, across the line you had drawn, across the misunderstandings you had, and you chose him. Your fingers cup his cheek, drawing him close, as you hear his breathe hitch, “can I—” 

“You don’t need to ask me even once, Princess,” and you kiss him, your lips grazing his again and again, until your lips finally slide against each other, deepening it as he presses himself against you, hand bearing against the armrest between the two of you. And you can taste the sweet taste of the strawberry dessert that he all but inhaled at the party, the hint of the soda he drank instead of wine, and something that tasted utterly and perfectly of him. 

“Toru,” you murmur, but his lips keep finding yours, and you can’t breathe much less think, “I—” 

He silences you with another kiss, his fingers finding purchase on the back of your neck as he tugs you impossibly closer, before his lips are tracing a path down your jaw. 

“What was that, sweetheart?” he smiles against your skin, “you what?” 

“You’re insufferable, you’re endlessly frustrating, and I swear I want to murder you at least twice a day,” and he smiles, as you gasp as his teeth graze your pulse, “but you’re also my best friend, and I—“ you make him meet your eyes, fingers cupping his chin, ocean blue eyes drowning you with their gaze,  “I love you,” 

And he blinks ever so slowly, before his lips curl into the most beautiful smile you had seen, before he’s kissing you again, as you gasp, “Toru—” 

“I’m never going to stop now, Princess,” he grins endlessly, as he presses his forehead to yours, dragging a thumb down your kiss ruined lips, “waited too long for you, but I’d wait a million years to do that again,” 

“So should I make you wait?” you tease, and he’s looking like a kicked puppy, pouting and wide eyed, before he’s pressing butterfly kisses to your face, and you’re laughing, “I’m just kidding, baby—” 

And he pauses, “‘Baby?’” and his grin is a million watt, as he kisses you again, “never thought I’d see the day you’d call me a pet name,” 

Your noses brush as you both laugh, “Well, you are a big baby,” and he pouts again, and you kiss them, “but you’re my baby,” 

And you barely remember how you manage to stumble into your home. Frantic touches and hurried kisses and fumbling keys. As soon as the door slams shut, he has you pressed against it, fingers busy with undoing your buttons, as he grins against your mouth. 

“Know how long I wanted you? How long I dreamt of this?” he bites your bottom lip, “had to call you my wife before i could call you mine — thought about you dating Suguru, about all the times I wanted to lean over during our movie nights as kids and just kiss you — and how much I regretted it,” 

“So you admit you’ve been pining for me,” you gasp as his teeth drag against your neck now, biting and sucking, as your fingers thread through his white locks, “Satoru,” you moan, biting your lip. 

“Judging by that moan, I’m not the only one,” he smiles cheekily, his hands sliding down your back to rest at the back of your thighs, large palms and thick fingers pressing through the all too thin tulle of your dress, “can’t wait to see how fuckin’ wet you are for me, Princess.” 

You gasp at his vulgar words, a rush of heat that leaves your legs shaking under his touch, “Now whose mind is the gutter?” You tease, your fingers tugging at his tie, unfurling the knot. 

“Always has been when it’s come to you, want to make this perfect princess filthy,” he coos, and he’s pulling you up against the door, your hands wrapped around his neck, “wanna make my beautiful little wife scream my name, don’t I?” 

“Toru—“ you gasp as his teeth graze along your chest, tugging the neckline of your dress impossibly low, “you’re going to rip it—“ and he does, pulling the fabric apart with ease, “what the fu—“ and he’s swallowing your swears with his tongue. 

“I’ll buy you another,” he grins, “in fact I’ll buy you any amount you want, as long as you keep letting me do this,” 

And he’s peeling the dress off of you, dress falling to the floor in a shamble of tulle, and your skin flushes at the air hitting your bare skin, and shivers at the feeling of his sharp breath against your neck. 

“How are you so fucking perfect?” he sighs, burying his face in the nape of your neck, pressing butterfly kisses down your collarbone, “I should get an award for patience — not being able to touch you, to kiss you, but living with you?” 

His fingers are skimming down your underwear now, snapping the waistband against your skin, you gasp, “Fuck, Toru,” you whimper, “thought you’d talk less during this,” your fingers are undoing his shirt now. 

“Oh I can think of a few things that could shut me up,” his lips curl deviously, and you’re slipping his shirt off his shoulders, your lips pressing to his collarbone. 

“I don’t think you’d even shut up from that,” as he shivers when your teeth graze his soft skin, “I think you’ll only whine more,” 

And his gaze is hot as his eyes meet yours again, as he grasps at your thighs and picks you up, “let’s see who’s the one whining at the end of this,” you squeal, grasping into his shoulders, as he carries you into his bedroom, as he settles you down on his bed. His eyes raking over you, panting and disheveled, he drags his thumb down your bottom lip, “can’t believe you’re all mine, Princess,” 

“Satoru,” you’re reaching for him, but he pins your hand to the bed, “wha—“ 

“Patience, baby,” he purrs, as he presses his lips to your wrist, “let me enjoy you,”

He’s so pretty it’s unfair - the way his breath hits your skin steals yours, pretty pink lips parted as he runs his tongue over them, the same ache between your legs longing for that tongue between them. But it leaves you with so little of the patience he asks you to have — especially after over a decade of this in the making. 

And your impatience is evident, you suppose, by the pout on your lips, and he laughs, “Want a kiss, baby?” 

You don’t have the time to say you want much more than a kiss, as he humors you with a kiss, lips teasing you with their sweet taste, and you don’t fail to notice his smile as you lean up into his touch. And suddenly his hands brush down your bare sides, squeezing your hips, and you’re gasping, “Feel good, Princess? We’ve barely started—“ 

“You keep teasing me and I’ll make you regret it,” you grumble, between breathless kisses, the bite of your words dampened by the soft pants that leave your lips, “Toru, I swear—“ 

And his thumb presses against the wet patch on your underwear, flimsy layer of soaked fabric barely doing a thing to hide your arousal, “Not acting like a good little girl for me,” he tuts, as you keen against his touch, gasping as you throw your head back as he grinds his fingers  against your puffy clit, “all it took was one touch to have you so pliant, huh? Should’ve done this a long time ago,” 

“Stop,” you whine, and his grin only grows larger with such self satisfaction, you don’t know if your lust addled brain wants you to strangle his neck or his cock, “please, just—“ 

“Just what?” And his fingers are breaching past your underwear, just barely touching the outer lips of your cunt, “come on, Princess, use your big girl words, or are you already fucked stupid before I’ve barely touched you?” 

“Motherfuck—“ 

“I will be one once I get my needy little wife pregnant, won’t I?” And his long fingers finally tug down your underwear — the wet schlick of the sticky fabric hitting the floor make him drag his teeth over those beautiful lips, “but we got plenty of time for that, after all,” his fingers tease the outer lips of your throbbing pussy, “practice makes perfect,” 

And he sinks a long finger knuckle deep — and a whine crawls its way out of your throat, his fingers were thicker than yours were — and so much better. His thumb teases your clit in tight circles as he begins to tease your walls, reaching deep, deep, deeper, your slick starting to drip onto his palm, “God, you’re soaking me, Princess,” and your hips can’t resist the urge to grind against his touch, “oh, and where’s that mouth now?” you can barely see much less talk, words failing as he begins to stretch you out - his other large palm rested against your thigh, keeping your legs nice and spread for him. 

He’s grinning, he sinks another finger into you, teasing your walls apart, beginning to finger fuck you in earnest, “my mouthy girl just needed to be fucked right? Didn’t she?” And all you can hear are the filthy sounds of your cunt, as his fingers piston in and out, “nothing to say, Princess?” And he spanks your pussy, making you yelp, a whine leaving your throat, “and you thought I’d be whiny, look at you now, baby,” his fingers cup your chin to force your glassy eyes to meet his darkened blues, “such a good fucked out wife for me,” 

And a third finger joining right as he brushed against a spot that had you seeing stars as his thumb bullied your clit, eyes rolling back as he did, and he’s grinning, “my perfect princess and her perfect little pussy,” 

You came with his name on your lips, panting and shaking as he held you steady, his fingers dripping with your release, as he pulled away, watching your cunt twitch around nothing, aching for his fingers. 

You're coming down from your high, chest rising and falling, as you watch him gather your release on his fingers, toying with your cunt, before he sucks them clean, “Fuck,” you whimper, as he licks and cleans himself of your cum, “Toru-“

“Fuck, baby, how’ve I resisted tasting you for so long?” And he’s bending down as he noses your thighs, making your hips jolt, still sensitive from your orgasm as he deeply inhaled, tip of his tongue darting out to lick your release from your thighs, “smell as sweet as you taste,” he hums, your legs trying to close, but his palms keep them spread, “can’t keep a man from his vices, can we baby?” 

And his tongue teases your cum that pooled from your orgasm, the tip hot and wet as it tastes it, “tastes when better coming from this filthy princess cunt,” he grins against your thigh, teeth grazing your skin, making you lurch. 

“T-Toru, please,” fuck you hated how needy you sounded, but you needed more — but he’s leaning away, pressing his cheek against the soft plush of your thigh. 

“Need you to do something me first, sweetheart,” and his fingers are drawing teasing infinities  on your thighs, “tell me how much you want me,” 

“Fuck you,” you groan, “I know what you’re gonna say,” you add, cutting off his snappy retort of “I’m trying to,” “I want you, Satoru, please, I’ve wanted this for too long,” and your voice grows more teasing, “how long is my husband going to keep me waiting?” 

And his eyes darken, the slight flush on his cheeks growing deeper, as his mouth presses a wet kiss to your sopping pussy, “good girl, think you deserve a reward,” and he’s manhandling your thighs, spreading them wide, as he buries his face in your cunt, “such a good little wife deserves to be eaten out,” 

And eating is exactly what he does - you had only seen Satoru eat sweets with the same voracity he devoured you, pressing his thick fingers into your thighs as he splayed you out as his mouth pressed wet kisses to your dripping lips. His hot tongue drags up the length of your cunt, “best fucking thing I’ll ever taste, know what my last meal will be,” he’s murmuring against you, making you twitch, as he looks up at you with half lidded eyes and saliva and slick covered lips,  “awww my pretty pussy begging to be filled? Well I can do that for you, baby,” and he’s burying his tongue in your messy hole. 

The moan that leaves your lips leaves his cock harder and hurting, he didn’t know you could make such a lewd noise, and he couldn’t wait to make you make it again and again. He’s making out with your pussy at this mouth, your hips doing their best to grind against him, desperate for more, more, more. 

And your fingers find his shoulders first, before sliding up to his hair, pressing him further against you, “you’re so fucking cute,” he murmurs, as he spreads your folds with his thumbs before tongue fucking you. His tongue teases and abuses your walls, deeper and deeper, before he pulls back to flick his tongue over your clit, making you moan even louder, “neighbors are gonna hear you at this rate, baby,” but he only sucks at your clit, harshly, “oh well, they know we’re newlyweds,” he’s humming as his ears hear your broken whines and pants, body tensed up against his. 

And you’re so wet now, your slick drips down his jaw, mixed with his spit, “you’re all mine now, baby, can’t live without tasting you now—“ and he groans when your hips buck into his mouth again, feeling your walls twitch, “I know you’re close, Princess, tell me how good it feels,” 

“S’good, Toru, I can’t—“ you’re pulling at his soft white locks now, making him grunt, and you fall apart, back arching as you cum as all you can hear are the squelching sounds of his tongue and mouth as he continues to eat you out through your orgasm. 

And you’re twitching under him as he sucks up every bit of your cum, “so fucking good for me,” he’s finally pulling himself from your messy pussy, “can’t wait to feel you around me, should’ve known you have a little princess cunt,” 

And he’s licking his lips and chin clean, as you watch him with half lidded eyes, still panting, as your eyes skim down his body, his jacket had been thrown aside at some point, but his now wrinkled shirt is only messily untucked from his dress pants, and disheveled was too good of a look on him, but you rather see those clothes on the floor of your bedroom, “you’re still annoyingly dressed,” you manage between breaths, still aching from his ministrations, “strip,” 

He’s raising an eyebrow, a wicked grin on his lips, “So demanding for someone who was moaning my name a second ago,” but you pull yourself up, supporting yourself on a shaky arm while you use the other to tug on his tie, smashing his lips to yours. 

You unfurl the very tie you tied, fingers flying to unbutton his shirt, “Made me feel so good, baby,” and now you were kneeling in front of him, your release slipping down your thighs, as you slipped his shirt off his shoulders, tossing it aside, heated eyes raking over his bare chest, tongue running over your lips, “only fair if I repay the favor,” 

You’re undoing his belt for him, pulling it free from the loops, as your hand grazes his noticeable bulge in his suit pants, “surprised you haven’t ripped through,” you squeeze lightly, making his hips jerk, as he pouts all too cutely — and now you knew why he always teased you, “didn’t you tell me to have patience, love?” 

“Your husband is running low on that at the moment, never been one to be patient, sweetheart,” he’s gritting his teeth, as you slip his pants off leaving him only in boxers. 

Your eyes are glued to his erection, visible through the damp front of his boxers, wet with his precum, “so fuckin’ big, even better than I thought,” you say almost with reverence, and his lip quivers at the praise, a quiet groan leaving his throat. You raise an eyebrow, “like to be praised, baby boy?” 

And he swallows, adam's apple bobbing, sweat on his forehead from his treatment of you, but a red flush deepens on his skin, “Princess,” it’s half a warning and half a plea—and morphs into a whimper as your fingers tease the head of his cock through his boxers, rubbing his precum into the fabric, “f-fuck, s’good with those hands, sweetheart,” 

“Imagine how much better it’d be with your boxers out of the way,” you say leaning down and licking at the tip through the sticky fabric, as his head falls back with a soft moan, “can’t wait to feel this between my legs,” as you kiss the clothed tip, two fingers slipping in only to snap the waistband of the boxers against his skin, and he’s biting back a moan, a pout on his kiss ruined lips, “god, you’re so pretty,” 

Another noise in the back of his throat, “Fuck, Princess,” he hissed, as you finally spare him, pulling his boxers off, his erection slapping against his too fucking incredible abs — how was he so unfairly perfect? He was so gorgeous — more long than girthy, but he was so thick still, and flushed red with pearly pre-cum at the tip. Each vein and curve felt as if he was made for you. 

“All this for me, baby?” You tease, as his mouth opens and then closes as your fingers tease the head of his cock, a sharp inhale that keeps echoing in your ears, “all turned on from eating me out, huh?” You move close, nearly straddling him, but you don’t let your cunt brush against his cock — not yet. 

And his dick twitches in your hand, “Sweetheart,” he whimpers, eyes nearly glassy with need, “such a fucking tease,” 

And your lips curl, “Match made in heaven, baby,” you rub your thumb against his flushed tip, spreading the pre-cum along his shaft, “can’t wait to taste you, wonder if you taste as sweet as what you eat,” licking your lips, and he’s biting his lip, “tell me what you want, Toru,” 

“Y’know what I want, Princess,” he’s panting as you lean forward to kiss him, lips sliding against his, just as your palm starts to stroke him, his moan is nearly pornographic, words spilling from his mouth, “want your pretty pussy around my cock, sweetheart, plesse,” 

“Not so fast, baby,” you hum, your other hand moving to tease his balls, achingly full, judging by the gasp that left his throat, “wanna take my time with you, like you did with me, right?” And he breaks your kiss with a whine, “you feel so good in my hands, Toru, been thinking about this cock for too long,” and he’s grunting, lips parted as he pants, burying his face in your shoulder. 

“How good?” he mumbles, and you’re grinning even wider — the great Satoru Gojo fell to pieces with only your touch and some praise, his face beautifully flushed as you tug him by the back of his hair, thumb running over his undercut as you do. 

“So good that I wanna make you fall apart over and over until my name is the only thing on your lips,” you squeeze the base of his dick, making his hips jump, “gonna be a good boy for me and let me do it?” 

And he’s nodding, utterly fucked out even before you’ve even started. And you guide him to the end of the bed, as you get on your knees for him, his gaze darkening as he watches you lean down to press your lips to the tip of his weeping erection, making him groan your name. And you trace his slit with the tip of your tongue, tasting his salty release, “How long you gonna tease me baby? I’m being so good for you,” he’s whining, his baby blues fluttering with lust as he looks down at you, choking as he sees how his precum paints your lips, “please, fuck, just—“ 

And you finally guide his cock into your mouth, and he’s jerking at the sensation and groaning as he watches your pretty little mouth take his length — those same smart lips that always had a reply for everything, the ones he’d jerked off to the thought of this very situation — you on your knees for him, the ones he’d wanted around him for so long — it was too much. 

He almost blew his load all too fast, your warm mouth all too accommodating to his cock, as your wet walls and tongue swirl around him, tasting and sucking, your fingers grasping his thighs. And you bob up and down his length, the weight of his cock making the ache between your legs worse, and your eyes flicker up, and moan as you watch him. 

He’s so fucking gorgeous — panting and so fucked out, as his lips part for you, your name leaving his kissed red lips, teeth baring down on his bottom lip, “Fuck, my little wife is so pretty on her knees,” as his hands settle on your head, watching you sink your mouth down on his cock, pleasure running up his spine, as his thick fingers dig into your scalp, “so nasty, baby, fuuuuck, gonna fuck your throat at this rate,” he groans, “how’d you get so good at this baby? Don’t answer that,” he adds, a growl in his words, and you almost giggle around his dick. 

“Learned so I could blow you, husband, after all, this mouth is yours,” you grin, and his lips curl too and then they part as he grunts, as you press teasing kisses along his length before sliding it back into your mouth, beginning to let the tip hit the back of your throat. You gag on him, making him moan, as he helps you deepthroat him, his hips thrusting against you lightly, his white pubes brushing against your face. 

And he’s moaning even louder, as he watches you, drool slipping down your chin as he fucks your mouth, tongue massaging him as he did, “Made just to fuck me, huh? Want my load that bad, Princess?” And his words have your eyes rolling back as he’s moving against you, his cock twitching telling you that he’s close, “shiiit, fuck, my wife’s a slut for me, gonna swallow my cum baby?” 

“Only for you,” you pull away a moment, a string of spit connecting your lips to his dick, smiling, before you slip him back into your too eager mouth, and you hollow your cheeks, the lewd noises of your tongue and mouth sending him over the edge.

“Fuck, fuck, gonna cum, baby, can I cum in—“ and you make his tip brush your throat again as you suck, looking at him with half lidded, dilated eyes. And he spills into your mouth, hot cum down your throat, as he holds your head gently in place, “shit Princess,” his hips jumping at the sight of you, cum and spit slipping from the corner of your mouth as you pull his cock from you, “s’good for me,” 

He’s still panting, as you climb into his lap properly, his cock sliding against your cunt, making his face twist in pleasure, as you lick your mouth clean of him, wiping your chin, “Taste so good, Toru,” you hum, his eyes half lidded with pleasure, chest still heaving, as he leans back on shaky arms, “you may be my favorite meal, but I think I rather,” you grind on his lap teasingly dragging his tip against your messy cunt, “have you cum inside me,” 

And he gives a delicious gasp, “baby, too sensitive,” but you’re tilting his chin back as you meet his lips, both of you moaning as you taste yourselves on the other’s lips, “you’re gonna be the death of me, Princess,” he’s chuckling, as he starts to grab your thighs, putting you properly into his lap, “you gonna ride me like a good little princess? Fuck yourself on my cock?” 

How does he have the upper hand when you’re the one on top? 

As you feel yourself clench around nothing at his words, and he’s sliding your body back and forth, his cock slapping and sliding against your wrecked cunt, so close to sinking in. His hand bears down on your ass, slapping it, before his fingers squeeze it, making you jump against him, your chest brushing against his, “you like that huh?” he’s grinning, as he kisses you again, his lips sliding against you, swallowing your moans eagerly, “what do you want, baby? Remember to say please,” he adds, and you want to roll your eyes, but his fingers rub your clit, and any protest you had fled your mind. 

“Please,” and you’re using your fingers to part yourself above him, making his eyes roll back, as you grasp his cock, teasing your dripping cunt with the head of his dick, “fuck me,” 

And you sink onto him, inch by inch, as your head looks back, your walls squeezing as he parted your folds, “You’re drenching me, sweetheart, fucking perfect princess cunt is gonna wring me dry,” he grunts, as his fingers splay over your hips, grasping but not pushing, letting you go at your pace, “s’good, might just have to fill you up, again and again,” and your pussy twitches at that thought drawing a laugh from him lips, “you want that? My wife wants to be full of my cum,” he’s groaning when you finally fit all of his cock in you, cunt clamping down on him, “trying to break my cock? Don’t have to go that far to keep me, I’m living in this sweet cunt from now on,” 

You’re a mess — whining and moaning, your chest bouncing as you begin to move against him,  “Toru, so full, s’good,” his own hips jumping against yours, a low growl in his throat, as his hands begin to guide your hips, snapping his own hips as he fucks you onto his own cock, reaching new depths, as your eyes squeeze shut, “fuckfuckfuuuck, Toru,” you’re babbling and moaning his name, again and again — and he just needs more. 

And he’s spanking you, hands coming down on your ass, as he grunts, your warm walls twitching and squeezing him, brushing against sweet spots that have both of you groaning, “such a fucking good girl, taking my cock — I know you can take more, baby, my perfect wife,” and he’s capturing your nipple in his mouth, teeth grazing it before he sucks, his hips growing even faster, until his cock finds your special spot. 

“Toru, g’nna cum, I—“ And your orgasm hits you, head thrown back as your lips part in a silent scream, toes curling as you wrap your legs around his waist, and he’s fucking you right through — fucking relentless, almost limitless, with his pace, groaning as he watches his the base of his cock covered in your release, a pool of white that almost has him cumming then and there. 

“S’ fuckinh pretty, Princess, and all mine,” he says, as you moan, as he slows his pace, your face buried in his shoulder, as you come down from your high, and he’s tilting your head. 

But he isn’t done yet. 

In a moment, he’s pulling his cock out — a whine parting your mouth — as he manhandles you so that you’re flat on your back, your ankles thrown over his shoulders, and spread wide for him. You’re the picture of filth — lips in a kiss ruined pout, chest rising and falling as you gaze up at him with needy eyes, and your perfect cunt leaking and drenched for him — he could see everything — all of you, the way your cum slid down your hole, the way it clenched around nothing, the pretty pink insides he was desperate to make his.  

He licks his lips, “soaking my lap and sheets with your cum, baby, such a dirty girl,” and he’s spreading your lips, letting your release trickle out. 

“Satoru,” you whine as he runs a finger over your still twitching pussy, as if begging for his cock back, “please, too sensitive,”

“Please what, sweetheart? Because your cunt seems to disagree,” his chuckle is a deep noise that reverberates through his chest as he leans down to press your lips to yours in a languid kiss, “such a nerdy princess, imagine how’d your family would feel — seeing you beg for my cock, huh? Not the chaste little princess anymore? Nah, you’re my filthy baby,” and you’re whimpering, “tell me baby, I know you’re not nearly fucked dumb yet, you’re too smart for that,” he coos, a grin on his lips as he stares with that damn crystalline gaze.

And finally he’s sinking into you again, cock sliding back into your soaked cunt, “God, I love you,” he murmurs, as he’s somehow deeper inside you, pussy pressed against all of him, “so fucking perfect, baby, better than I imagined,” he’s pussydrunk now as he rails into you, and you’re grasping at him, the only sound in your ears is the squelch of him as he filled you again and again as his chest presses against yours, fucking you long and hard, “you’re all mine now, baby. My wife, my body, my love, my soul — all of it,” he growls his last words, grunting as his hips begin to stutter as he kisses your sweet spot again and again, “you want me to cum in this sweet princess pussy, baby? Wanna make me a daddy?” 

Your cunt twitches at that, and he laughs, “did you just get wetter, baby? Didn’t think you could do that,” 

But you’re only moaning, you’re so fuckin’ close but you want him to cum with you - wanna feel him sink into as he does. And so you’re meeting his lips in a searing kiss, his hips thrusting harder and longer, “give me your baby, Toru, breed me,” you whisper, words slurring as you pant and stutter, all sense had left your mind - and all you wanted was him. 

“Fuck, Princess,” he’s grunting as he pistons in and out of you, bed groaning under his thrusts,  until your walls clamp down again and again on him as you cum, throbbing and needy as you moan his name, back arching, “g’nna cum,” 

And he does, his cock hitting the deepest part of you as he does, his warm seed filling you up, as his hips continue to fuck it deeper into you, making you whimper, as he just keeps on cumming ropes, “oh, f-fuck, Princess,” he rasps as he kisses you, sloppy and wet, as he pants, watching your face come down him your high, eyelashes fluttering as you look up at him, “so beautiful,” he murmurs, as he rubs his thumb down your lips. 

He pulls out slowly, groaning as he watches your mixed releases leak out of you, dragging the tip of his weeping erection down your cunt, a whine leaving your throat again, “So fucking filthy, baby,” he hums, a shiteating grin on his lips, as he collects his cum on his fingers, and pushes it back inside of you, as you jump, a small pout on your lips making him laugh, “gotta make good on my promise, baby,” and he’s kissing you silly again, “gotta get you pregnant and full for me,” 

His body is sticky with sweat, as he eases your aching legs down, as he kisses up your body, nosing your neck, “So perfect for me, Princess, I love you,” he says so earnestly that it makes you melt, as you pull him into a kiss, “suppose we consummated our marriage now, does this mean we get to have a honeymoon now?” he’s grinning, as you roll your eyes, “come on, don’t you want to travel?” 

And you laugh, “I don’t think we would even leave the hotel room if you had your way,” and he’s pressing his thumb against your bottom lip and dragging down, before kissing you, sliding his tongue into your mouth to taste you. 

“Would that be such a bad thing?” And your breath catches a moment, before you sigh, and he grins again, “so?” 

You roll over to grab your phone, kissing his lips, pulling up possible destinations, “where are we going?” 

“Satoru, we’re at the office, uhmph—“ Satoru’s kissing you even before the elevator doors shut, and you can’t help but not care if anyone saw either of you making out, his talented tongue stealing your logic from under you, before he’s pulling away, your lipstick nearly smeared all over his face. You bite back a laugh, before using your thumb to wipe away the evidence of your kiss, “we’ve been here less than a minute, and you’re already making a mess,” 

And his lips catch your thumb between them, kissing it sweetly, “What do I do better than make a mess of you, princess?” and he’s pressing sweet kisses to your fingertips, before you’re pulling him back for another kiss, right before you hear the elevator ding, and you scramble apart. 

Your cheeks flushed, as you stepped onto the floor of the newly merged company that was formerly your families’ individual companies, now united as one — just as you and Satoru were now — which was why he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off of you. The two of you had come into the office to finalize the transition for your staff, each of you dealing with formalities on either side, but Satoru did little to help your focus on the process with his blatant stares and sneaky touches. 

Twice already he had pulled you into his office, only to have you either pressed against his door, or bent over his desk. And god, you sat in your office, biting your lip as you thought about paying him another visit — and fuck, this is what he wanted. 

You pull your phone out and text him: You suck. 

And his reply is instant. If I recall from last night, you’re the one who sucks ;) 

You’ve left me high and dry, Satoru, and I shouldn’t be thinking about fucking you in the office. Especially with both of our parents around in meetings all day. 

He replies, Nah, that’s exactly why you should be thinking about it. 

And then another text. 

Imagine our parents walking in while you’re under my desk doing what you do best, you’d be quiet for me, Princess? Wouldn’t let us get caught when I fuck your pretty mouth? 

You’re biting your lip — Fucker, I hate you. 

Nah, you love me, a little too much, Princess. Another text — especially the way you were moaning my name last night. 

And there’s a knock at your door in that moment — “Come in,” you intone, and you were ninety-nine percent sure that was Satoru — ready to make good on his promise — and then white hair visible as the door swings open, “Father,” 

It was a Gojo, but not the one you expected — your father in law, instead of his son. 

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” he says, lips curling in a smile that was all too the same as his son — but missing the same charm, the distinct softness that made you adore Satoru was not present in his father — nor was his father very present at all — except to chastise his son on how he thought his son should live his life. 

And he was interrupting — interrupting you about to sext his son and your husband from the confines of your office, but you only offered a smile, “Not at all, can I help you with something, Father?” 

He’s shutting the door behind him, before taking a seat across from you, “I just wanted to have a chat with you — it’s been so long since we’ve been able to see the two of you — we still haven’t had you over since you’ve returned from your honeymoon,” 

“It’s been very busy,” and it had been, but not too busy to see Satoru’s family. Since the launch party, you and Satoru had agreed to steer clear of his father for some time, until Satoru could develop some more healthy boundaries with him. And so you could get through a conversation without strangling him (although Satoru wasn’t opposed to seeing that), “with the merger and Satoru and I trying to spend time to get know each other again,” 

“Of course,” but his smile told you he was unconvinced, “I wanted to talk to you about something important, I’ve seen how close you and Satoru have gotten since the engagement and the wedding, and I was happy to see you pushing him in the right direction,” 

“”Pushing him?’” you repeat, raising an eyebrow. 

“With the merger, I haven’t seen him so focused, so determined, and I knew my suggestion to my wife to have you marry him was the right choice,” and you stare at him, mouth agape, as anger slowly melts from your stomach into every vein of his body, fingers curling into fists. 

“Excuse me?” 

He leans back in his chair, “When the idea of the merger was floated by me, I knew I wanted a condition to be your marriage to Satoru,” his eyes glance over the things on your desk — the stacked folders, the paperwork, and the pictures of your family and of Satoru, “you’re driven, you’re focused, you’re perfect — I knew you could change him, and I was right,” his lips curl, and you can’t hold your tongue anymore. 

“Maybe what your son needed was someone to support him,” your words are even, but your body is tense, “he needed someone not to scold him, to put him down, to whisper doubts in his ear when he needed help,” you rise from your chair slowly, “I respect you as my father-in-law and as my family’s old friend and co-owner of this company, but,” you glare at him, “no one insults my husband’s capabilities, and makes me takes credit for his achievements,” 

The old man’s teeth grit, and he opens to respond, when there’s a curt knock at the door, and Satoru enters, “Old man, how about you go chat with the other old farts in the room? Pretty sure you’re bleeding investors by the second the longer you talk with my wife,” he slides a small smile to you that tells you he heard everything. 

Satoru’s father shoots a glare at both of you, before leaving the room in a huff, door shutting behind him, and you sigh, rubbing your temples, “I’m sorry if I made things worse—” 

And he’s pulling you into a hug, arms snaking around your waist and pulling you against him, “Thank you, Princess,” he murmurs into your ear, making you tense, “oh you like that, huh?” and you roll your eyes, laughing. 

“Even in a moment like this, huh?” you lean up and whisper in his ear, “I don’t just like it, I love it,” and it’s his turn to shiver, his cheeks burning, “you’re so cute,” you grin, before leaning up and kissing him. He melts into the kiss, his fingers cupping your cheek to deepen the kiss, pulling your waist against his, and you feel his arousal pressed against your thigh. 

You pull away, tilting your head, you snort, “Already?” 

And he bites his lip, “Take some responsibility, baby, it’s your fault,” and he leans down and grazes your ear with his teeth, “not my fault my hot wife defended my honor and then decided to whisper sweet nothings in my ear,” 

You hum, guiding his lips to yours, your teeth graze over his bottom lip, “And how should I take responsibility, baby?” and he shudders, crystalline eyes glazed over with lust, “we’re in the office, not very professional,” his fingers unbutton your blouse, so he can lean down and kiss your collarbone. 

“I was never very professional to begin with,” he smirks, his teeth grazing over the soft skin, sucking and biting, making you gasp, “don’t be so loud, someone will hear us, what will they think?” he murmurs, with a grin against your skin, as he continues to undo your blouse, as he turns you around so your back is against your chest, he tilts your head to look at your door, “look it’s unlocked, anyone could walk in,” and his fingers sneak down the front of your skirt, fingers teasing your panties, “fuuuck, princess, you’re soaked through — are you more turned on by the idea of getting caught?” and you whimper, only making him grin wickedly against your neck, “my filthy girl, imagine your father walking in, seeing your husband’s fingers down your skirt, legs spread wide like a slut,” 

“Satoru,” you’re biting your lip so hard that you wouldn’t be surprised it would bleed, your knees buckling, as his fingers part your dripping folds, “we can’t—” 

“We can,” he shushes you, guiding your lips to his, fingers cupping your throat, but he leans back to get confirmation that you were okay, and you lean in again to kiss him, “such a good girl,” You whimper, and he laughs, “gotta break in the new office don’t we?”

And his fingers slip your panties aside, two fingers parting your folds, and you gasp, as he stuffs two fingers into your mouth as well, “Not so loud, Princess, can’t give the office gossip mill something really juicy, now can we?” And his digits start to really fuck you, in and out, the wet squelch ringing in your ears, as his fingers bully and stretch your walls, until they find what they are looking for — your g-spot. 

You fall apart, but it’s gushing all over his hand, soaking his hand, as your hand grasps at the fingers in his mouth trying to stifle your noises, “Fuck, Princess, did you just squirt for me?” He’s grinning, “such a sloppy little Princess, look you’re staining the carpet with your cum,” he guides your head to look, seeing the spot on the carpet, as you lean against him, “gotta do this again,” 

He kisses you as you moan. Tangled limbs and eager touches, as you guide him over to the desk, as you settle him into the chair, lips still parting as your tongue slips in, “Your turn,” and before he can even react, you’re slipping down to your knees, unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants, slipping his aching dick out, nearly slapping your face with it, you drag it along your lips, “Like you said, I’m the one who sucks right?” you wink, before you finally lick the length of his cock, tracing the veins to the slit, “you always taste so good, Toru,” and he’s hissing now. 

“Fuck, baby, you always so pretty on your knees for me,” and you have to disagree — he’s the one who looks pretty — shirt disheveled, chest rising and falling far too fast, as he looked down at you with his snowy white eyelashes half lidded with a lust ridden gaze — “your pretty mouth is s’fucking perfect, can’t wait to cum down that lovely throat,” he hisses, as his fingers dig into your scalp, urging his cock deeper, his tip brushing against your throat, making you gag. 

He opens his mouth to apologize, but you only shake your head, as you do it again, making his hips buck against you, tip hitting your throat again, his composure quickly falling to shreds, as he’s fucking your throat now, biting his lip so hard to keep his groans in, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was bleeding afterwards. 

“I-I’m close,” he’s gritting his teeth, but you only redouble your efforts, “so fuckin’ perfect, made to suck this dick—” 

And that’s when there’s a knock on the door, making you both freeze. You panic silently — before Satoru is shepherding you under your desk, while he adjusts himself, scooting your chair in more, so his weeping cock is hidden along with you. 

“Come in,” Satoru says, as even toned as someone who was just fucking their wife’s throat can manage, “Dad—what a nice surprise,” 

And you cover your mouth — fuck it was your dad — Satoru called his dad, “old man” — what the fuck. 

“I should be saying that to you son,” you bite your lip, listening to their conversation, “where’s my daughter? And why are you in her office?” and you covered your mouth, shit — you were hiding under your own desk, while Satoru sat in your chair. 

Shit, shit, shit. 

“I was just waiting for her to come back with lunch,” he manages, and you can almost see the dependable smile on his lips, “she volunteered to get us lunch and she told me to wait here so we could eat together,”

Your father was seemingly convinced after that, but to both of your dismay, sat down to speak with Satoru about business matters. You crouched, utterly bored as you listened to them talk, his erection beginning to wane, and you got an idea in your pretty little head — you grinned — well, Satoru should be careful what he wishes for, or he might just get you blowing him in front of your father. 

You start slow — teasing the head with a brush of your fingers, easily could have been an accident, but it nearly makes him jump, as he gives a warning nudge with his foot gently. But then your hand begins to rub him in earnest, fingers using your spit as lube, as you heard your husband stammer over his words to your father. But it was nothing compared to when you closed your mouth over his cock, and began to deepthroat him again. 

“Satoru, are you okay?’ you hear your father ask, as you discreetly suck your husband’s cock under his desk, and you can only imagine the delightful shade of red your Toru is turning. 

“Sorry, I’m not feeling like myself,” he mumbles, as he grits his teeth in an attempt not to moan, and you can feel his thighs tense as he forces himself not to fuck your mouth as he wants to right now. He’s so close — as much as you like the idea of getting caught, you think Satoru likes it as much or maybe even more — his cock is twitching in your mouth as you suck and swirl your tongue around it, as your fingers dig into your thighs, “I apologize, I’m getting a call. Could you excuse me?” 

And your father is oblivious, and excuses himself from the room, door shutting behind him, and Satoru groans, “Fuck, princess, you almost made me cum in front of your dad in this nasty fucking mouth,” and you suck harder, fingers fondling his balls, as his fingers find your locks again, and his hips jerk into your mouth, his white pubes tickling your nose, “thaaat’s it, fuck, so fuckin’ good, i’m close, sweetheart,” he groans, “you want me to cum—“ and you bury his cock deeper into your mouth as an answer, your hands pumping what you couldn’t fit, until he cums down your throat. 

You meet his half lidded gaze, swallowing his cum, as you ease off his cock, a mix of cum and saliva connected your lips, “You taste so good,” you lick your lips, as you push the chair a little back and climb out, as you tug his boxers and pants back up, tucking his cock back in, “my favorite treat,” 

He smiles, chest still rising and falling fast, “I love you, princess,” so genuinely as he pulls you into a deep kiss. 

You giggle, humming against his lips, “So heartfelt after getting your soul sucked out of your dick,” you glance at the door, “do you think anyone heard us?” 

He shrugs, as he pulls you into his lap, “I hope they did,” he grins against your neck, as you roll your eyes. 

“You’re terrible,” and his lips curl. 

“And you love me,” you kiss those same lips you would each day. 

“I do.”

~~~~

“What do you wanna do today?” Satoru asks, your legs thrown over his lap, as you read a book you had picked up the other day out on a date with him, and he eats the kikufuku he had insisted on picking up the same day. 

“Hmm, I have some ideas,” you hum, hiding your smile with a book, and you don’t need to see his face to know he’s grinning. 

“And what’s that, Princess?” he leans forward, plucking the book from your fingers, as you tut at his sugar covered fingers, “shouldn’t you share your feelings with your husband?” And his lips brush against your neck, nose brushing against the soft skin of your nape, inhaling your scent. 

“Well I have a surprise for you,” you weren’t planning on giving it to him now, but you pulled a wrapped box from behind the couch cushions, “should I make you wait?” 

He’s reaching for the box already, as you laugh, and he’s snatching it from your fingers before you can tease him, “can I open it?” He was so eager, as always. 

“Go ahead, baby,” you bite your lip, a small smile on your lips. 

He lifts the lid of the wrapped box off, and the first thing his eyes flit across is the word “positive.” 

His mouth parts, as he stares at the pregnancy test carefully nestled into the box, “is this—“ his cerulean eyes meet yours, a soft gaze with wonder, “are we—“ 

“We’re having a baby, Toru,” you nod, and he’s sweeping you into his arms, as you squeak, his body sweeping you up in his, as he buries his face in your neck, “Toru—“ 

“Is this real?” He murmurs, into your skin, all soft words and soft kisses, “I feel like I’m dreaming,” 

“Well I am your dream girl, so maybe don’t be surprised when I pinch you and you wake up,” you pinch his cheek lightly, making his pale skin cutely flushed, pink dusting his cheeks, “no dream here, all real — so I guess you’re just lucky,” 

“The luckiest,” he hums, a quiet noise that soothes you, “a beautiful wife, and now,” his fingers graze over your stomach, before lifting the hem of your shirt, to press his lips to it, “and now we’re going to be a family,”

Your lips curl, tilting his chin up so his watery gaze meets your own, thumb rubbing the length of his cheek, “We already were a family,

He raises his eyebrows in mock surprise, “I thought we were mortal enemies,” and you laugh, before shrugging. 

“That too,” and he pulls you into his lap, smiling, “but you’re actually pretty cute,” 

He gasps mockingly, “Princess, do you have a crush on me? A mere commoner?” 

You roll your eyes, pressing a languid kiss to his lips, tasting the lingering sweetness of the kikufuku, “I hate you,” you say, when he knows you mean quite the opposite. 

And he only smiles the same way he always did — and the same way he always would — “love you too, Princess."

✩ a/n: so this was also inspired by a character AI made by @/fairybaby that has been living in my mind rent free for far too long. thank you to @/laneymusings for being the best emotional support from writing to formatting to everything in between

✩ tag list: @ryliobrow, @getosho3cakes, @delaneyyyy, @soukokufan, @purplscnerie, @solarlunarsstuff, @growingupnrealizing, @forest-fruits-jam, @achipstea1ingseagull, @fruitscall, @starplasma-cujoh, @crashing-a-jeep, @mwah-chia, @vorschlaghannah, @xrysakts, @emonaculate

[froody]

I think a sitcom about the interconnecting lives of the gay and trans population in a rural area in the south would be so fun. Everybody dated each other or is related or are sworn enemies. I’d make the main characters a lesbian teen mom and her trans man husband who were high school sweethearts before he realized he was trans and she realized she didn’t like men, they’re now stuck in a platonic lavender marriage raising her son and renting a very shitty trailer from a very whacky landlord. She’s a home health aide, he has severe ADHD and a different even weirder job every episode. They’re both in love with the same person, a beautiful shy trans woman who just inherited a house in the area and moved from a big city. They’re friends with the rest of the LGBTQ population in the tricounty area and they’re always trying to show their love interest points of interest and trying to introduce her to new people and it keeps going terribly wrong.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Eat your Young (viking!Konig x fem!Reader)

You weren't afraid when the Vikings came. Your ruler pays them well, and they protect you from enemies far worse - there is nothing to worry about as you, an unmarried maiden, wander into the embrace of one of them. They are on your side. Right? Tags and CWs: Age gap, size difference, Konig is a bit obsessive and a huge perv, mentions of violence, Vikings Are Actually Kinda Nice No For Real, hand jobs, oral sex, naked man/clothed woman, slightly historically inaccurate, jokes about inbreeding Thanks to @angelbabysblog for the idea. I changed quite a lot because I was reading articled about how many of the Slavic cities were actually cool with Vikings and worked with them AO3

The Vikings are here. Your Father never allowed you to meet them before – as an unmarried girl, even if you’re already of age, it would be…scandalous. Not smart. Dumb, really – everyone knows that girls that are messing with the warrior from overseas often end up being taken away. And you couldn’t survive sea travel. The Vikings are here, but it’s not really a problem – you know that there are other countries over the sea, the countries that die and burn every time a ship is sailed in their harbors. You also know that you do not live in a country like that. That sound of Vikings approaching is a good one – that you’ll be protected from the other enemies your country has. You always stole glances, despite what your father has told you – you were a curious thing, always searching for trouble, always interested in everyone outside of your small village. You’re on the border – stuck between sea and great plains, open for any enemy if it weren’t for mercenaries who deemed this place as worthy of their camp. They live here, occupying the territory outside – even build themselves houses, despite every rumor calling them nothing more but overseas barbarians who would tear you down for a flick of a coin. 

Well, you always thought you’d have nothing to worry about – you are not made of coins, after all. The Vikings had a leader, the one that stayed in the long house just outskirts of the village – the one that would always visit the elders, discussing the payments and the spoils of war. Father always punished you if any nosy neighbor would see you sneaking out to look at the warriors – but you couldn’t care less. If you are going to end up in a marriage with a fool, you could at least steal a few looks at the real men. Not the ones from your village – they felt more like brothers than anything else. Some of them were – second, third, fourth, just diluted enough to make the babies a bit less disfigured. 

But, oh, nothing compared to the vikings. You see them when you run for the lake, far from the shore. They are clean – cleaner than sailors from Byzantine who sometimes stumbled upon the small village by the sea. You think you heard them talking about how cleanliness is a sin – and just how silly it sounded. You think you didn’t like people from this place very much – sailors were often drunk, always handsy and never spared a kind word without an insult…not that you knew their language – but you are smart enough to know that if a man is attempting to grasp your breasts while sneering something through his teeth, it won’t be a love poem. 

— What are you doing here? 

Ah. 

You were spotted. Like a fox in a hunter’s trap – you are standing in the tall water grass, looking at the man through the weeping willow branches. Maybe, if you are lucky enough, he’d think you were a mavka, trying to drown him – some men were foolish enough to fall for the act, sparing you the consequences of your curiosity. You aren’t sure if the Vikings have legends of mavkas – if they even have lakes back where they are from. All travelers are mixed in your head – desserts, great plains, barbarians who would steal your sisters if you’d been blessed with some. Sea beasts who will take you on your ship, away from your father and…ah, it doesn’t sound too bad. 

— Can’t you talk? 

His voice is rough, and accented. Younger than you thought he would be with a body like this – a seasoned warrior, ginger hair covering his muscular chest and a small trail falling down his…

Viking knows your language. Shouldn’t be surprising – they are working for the elders and your ruler, after all. They get gold from your village, they get food from your village. They get sons – you heard about at least some of the women falling pregnant to the guests overseas. No one dares to say anything against it – but the rumors are still falling. You wonder if it’s as bad as it sounds. — I can talk. 

This sounds dumb, but there is no use in hiding. Your intentions weren’t innocent – you are curious and curiosity is what leads to the devil. Or god of death. Or goddess – you are not well-versed in matters of spirit and while half of your village is still worshipping old gods while the other preaches about new, stronger ones, you wonder what kind of beliefs Vikings have. You heard their women can wield magic – and can count. And read. You would love to read, you think. — Gut. Thought I spotted a Margygr.

The word is weird. Rough. You don’t know what that is, but you certainly aren’t one. You take a step forward, not caring that your linen dress is getting drenched in water – not caring about what your father might say after. You would just tell him you wanted to go and drown since he was so adamant on marrying you off to some one-eyed half-wit quarter brother of yours. He wouldn’t be surprised – and you probably wouldn’t be missed. A whore to be, as some older women from your village would say. 

— What is that? 

He tilts his head to the side, his blue eyes looking at you. You notice a piece of cloth in his hands – something that must have been covering his face, you think. He is covered in scars and dirt, blood from some battle is getting washed away into the water of the lake. Gods, you say to yourself – you won’t even be drinking from it again. Although you promised it to yourself a few years ago already, when you spotted a dead deer lying in the water – and it’s not like you held to your promise. Better than seawater, after all. — A…drowned creature. Drowning creature. Your people are calling them… — Oh. Mavka. — Others call it mermaid. Selkie. Mermaid sounds harsh too. Rude. Other languages are rude – still, you would like to know more. Still, you would like to do anything to get out of your village. Learn to read. To write. Maybe hold a baby goat close to your chest and not have it ripped away for the nearest dinner. 

— I’m not…that. 

— I can see. 

He laughs and you steal a peak at his manhood. You should be ashamed, really – if your dear mother was alive, she’d beat you up for being so immodest. If your dear mother was alive, you wouldn’t be allowed to sneak out like that – but she isn’t, so you stare at the man who can crush your skull in one hand. You stare at the trail of ginger hair going down his waist. The muscles flexing and the scars on his hips, glossy from cold lake water. 

Hm. 

Is it supposed to be this big? 

He coughs and you peek to look at him again. Coughing isn’t good – he can be sick. Contangenous. There is a sickness coming around from sailor to sailor – you wonder if vikings have it too. You don’t want to get sick – but it would surely keep you out of marriage for a long while. Maybe, if you’re lucky enough, you could be buried like a pretty maiden. White dress and mourning relatives. That would teach them how to send you off to marry some dumb cousin you never knew before. Or knew too well. — You shouldn’t come here, Schatzen. 

— Why? 

— My men won’t be as nice as I am when they see a maiden in the lake. 

You smile, tilting your head to the side. There are rumors – you can’t invite foreign mercenaries into your country without them taking their toll on the locals. Some people like them, some people are scared of them. Some are going out of the ordeal pregnant and some are not returning at all. But, you can run. But, this is your lake. You like it here – the quiet, the tranquility. You think that if your father proceed with calling you an old bride who should be married as soon as possible, you could just run away and live here. Fish is nice and there are berries when it’s not too cold. — Where are your men? 

You never saw Vikings in battle. Never saw a group of them up close – you’d like to, of course. There are warriors in your village, but their best shot is wolves and deer. Not other men – you think you’d like to see war sometimes. Maybe, all the boys of age would die and you won’t have to worry about anything anymore. You would be nice as a local witch – or a local healer. Old hag sounds nice too. — Around. Waiting for the order. — What order? 

You ask so many questions, König thinks. Pretty thing – smart, too. You aren’t afraid of him, even though you have to be. Most women would be screaming and crying if they saw someone like him in the lake next to them. Not Viking women of course – but people from around here are soft. Cherished. Coddled. You also seem soft, too soft, too gentle – a woman living in a small village on the shore without a husband shouldn’t be this careless. König knows you’re just lucky that the ruler of your country is kind enough to pay the overseas mercenaries instead of suffering the pillaging. Not all of people are this lucky. 

If he won’t get a promised weight in gold this village won’t be lucky either. 

König looks at your sweet face, at the way your eyes constantly dart to his crotch. Curious little thing you are – he isn’t sure if he is that happy that the payments have been consistent up to this point. That he can’t just screw this all over and demand a payment in other ways. That pillaging this village and taking all of its women isn’t really an option while they get their gold from here. Your long linen dress clings to your skin - you’re shaking, he notices. From cold, probably, dumb lady who is too curious for her own good. Hm. He has furs not far from here. He can…

— We’re protecting the shore. The border, too. You smile, nodding. And here he thought the locals knew why the foreigners were here – but he can’t expect too much, he guesses. At least it seems like you haven’t heard of most of his accomplishments. The rivers of blood would be enough to fill this whole lake three times. Or, maybe, you heard – and didn’t care, brave and fearless little thing. König likes the sound of that. 

— Are you cold? 

You ask him, to his surprise. Your gaze is switching from his face – he is open, cheeks flushed from the cold and a maiden right next to him, and he can’t even find it in himself to cover his scarred mug – to his cock. It’s standing proudly, heavy, balls hanging low as if asking to be held in your soft palms. König isn’t embarrassed – but he is surprised that your body, showing only a little bit in that dress of yours, is already enough to make him this bothered. This ready to give up the supposed protection of this village and take what’s his. — You can warm me. 

You tilt your head to the side, mimicking his action from earlier. Curious bird – he could keep you at his ship. Tied up to the post, ready for anyone to use you. You’re strong, and resilient. Should survive the long way home – and he is getting quite ready to find someone at last. If the ruler of your little kingdom won’t be as stingy as the previous one, König can walk away with a sack of gold hanging on his shoulder. Enough for him and for him men. Surely enough to sway you. — How? 

— Do you have a husband? 

He knows, you probably don’t. A husband wouldn’t allow his wife to run around and flirt with other men – and if König was yours, he surely would keep you locked in like the treasure you are. There is too many men ready to take what doesn’t belong to them. 

— No. And I won’t.

— Why? — Soon I will be too old to be a bride anyway. Not that I want it. He laughs at that. Surely, little bird, it wouldn’t be your choice. If the luck is on his side, it wouldn’t even be the choice of your father. — Touch me, Schatzen. You want it, ja? 

He says this with more awkwardness than before. Swaying women by his side isn’t his strong suit – and even with his strength, not many of them would just throw themselves at him. Being a mercenary leader might bring him money but with the whole team consisting of equally strong and handsome men, the broody leader usually isn’t the first choice. He gets his fill eventually – but not the one that would make his heart flutter. With you, however… Your hands are traveling down his abs. Caressing every bit of skin you see – sending goosebumps down his navel and straight to his hard and leaking cock. He wonders if you’ve done this before – but your actions are the one of an explorer, not a professional. YOu grab his cock with both hands almost as if strangling him, and König lets go with a choked moan. 

You retrieve your hands, nervous. Good girl. Eager, pretty. Such a shame this village usually pays its tolls. — Are you hurt? 

— Nein, it’s…go on. You proceed to touch him, the softness of your touches is making him groan from pleasure. This is something else – you’re something else. Having the power to bring a seasoned warrior to his knees – god, how much he liked the way you looked at him. Eager and curious, always going down to touch his cock some more. You press your palm together, making s steady rhythm – using the pre-cum from his cockhead like a lube. 

König relishes in the feeling – he might be one of the strongest soldiers, but it was the first time he felt victorious. With your hand pumping his cock up and down, the pleasure settling in his stomach and threatening to burst, he felt like a king. No, the king. Gods, you were beautiful. Worthy of throwing this village into the fire for. Worthy risking the payment. Your mouth is warm on his manhood – he didn’t expect you to be this active, to wrap your lips around the bulging head and bop your head just a bit. Up and down. Tongue swirling, as if tasting him. Making him sweat that you will decide to take a bite out of it, just to satisfy your curiosity. To his peace, you didn’t. He came shortly after you decided to put your mouth on him – when your tongue started to swirl around and collect the bitter taste of his pre-cum. When your curiosity about foreign warriors bathing in your lake finally made you do something about it – and he would feel bad about pressing a hand in your hair and forcing you to choke on his length, your nails digging small red paths in his pale thighs. You choke and squirm and cry and this is the sweetest sound he ever heard – so when he finally drags you away from his cock, smiling as you wipe your mouth and whimper. Squirm again, some more. The light in your faded a little as he pushed one calloused finger into his mouth and pushed your lips apart. Poor thing, he thinks. — You did good, little bird. 

His seed tastes weird on the tongue. You wince, but swallow – it’s what good brides should do, you think. Somehow, looking at this warrior, you don’t feel so bad about being considered a bride. Maybe…no. You stalled here for long enough – you saw the Viking. You touched him. Tasted him. Father is probably looking for you. 

You don’t even bother to say goodbye as you come out of the water – but König stops you right on the edge of the lake, firm hand on your shoulder. Squeezing. Touching. Feeling. 

— I…I apologize, maiden. I lost control. 

His voice is hesitant. You don’t like how unsure he sounds. It made you feel unsure too. Weird. Uncertain and meek. 

— Are you going to leave soon? 

He stops mumbling, looking into your eyes. This is settled – he is not leaving you here. You must return to your family, say your goodbyes. Maybe enjoy a few weeks of peace before his troupe finally gets a clearing on killing whatever enemies grouped at the border – and he will take you no matter the payment your ruler can give him. Nothing will be worth more than you. 

— Yes. Yes, I will. You turn away, almost running. He didn’t stop you this time – you need to get as much freedom in your lungs as you can. He will take you eventually and, well…you best enjoy freedom as much as you could before this. 

When your village will burn along with all the cousins, half-triple brothers, and elders, you’ll find out why most countries fear the Vikings. When you will be hauled to the wooden ship over a giant’s shoulder, with his hand sitting firmly on your ass and his other palm preventing you from screaming, you’d know why taking the attention of overseas mercenaries is a bad idea. When your ruler would refuse to pay the warriors for their service and force them to just take everything by force, you’d know why making payments on time is so important. 

When König would finally make you his wife, you’d understand why you should have drowned in that lake instead. 

[megu-meow]

when gojo falls in love - gojo satoru

gojo satoru x fem. reader

Summary: She fell first, but he fell harder.

It was hard not to fall in love with Gojo Satoru. He was a ray of sunshine, always lifting the mood in every room, radiating the friendliest, kindest aura you have ever witnessed. His youthful, laid-back personality complemented his intelligence and wit, always having a funny comeback to Suguru's constant teasing.

He seemed so unapproachable to you, the Strongest, the Honored One, the Heir of the Gojo Clan, the Wielder of the Six Eyes, and Master of the Limitless. Those were the titles he was referred to in your crazy world, someone who was to be praised for the immense power he wielded and the enemies he had eliminated. However, you saw Satoru in a different light, finding other reasons to praise him. The gentleness he would befriend a stray cat with, the way he politely bows at the cashier at his favorite bakery, or the fact that he makes soup for everyone after a night out to cure your hangovers. He buys a bouquet of tulips for every girl and woman on Jujutsu Tech's campus, without exception, on International Women's Day. He remembers the lunch lady's son's birthday and gives her the remote-control car the young boy so desperately wanted because he knew Watanabe-sama, as he refers to her, could never afford it. He sits down to play chess with the elderly man in front of the convenience store every day because he knows he lost his opponent for the last 40 years not too long ago.

It is easy to fall in love with Gojo Satoru, however, it is hard for Gojo Satoru to fall in love. Or at least, that's what he thinks. At first, when you join them, he doesn't give much thought to it. He's pleased that there is another girl added to the group, so he and Suguru don't have to listen to Shoko's constant whining about them being gross anymore. He also relishes in the attention you give him, because he knows you're quite infatuated with him, like most of the girls are.

However, as time passes, he realizes that your kindness makes a red hue run across his pale cheeks. Every time he does the smallest things, you praise him for it. Others don't compliment him on his politeness, something he prides himself on because his mother taught him to act this way - the only person who loved him for him so far. Other people praise him for his technique, his unique eyes, and his otherworldly good looks. You're the only one who notices the small things he does and that warms his fragile heart. So he asks you out on a date.

He doesn't give it much thought, just a walk in the park full of cherry blossoms and ice cream. However, he swoons at the fact that you seem like this is the best date you have ever been on, you thank him repeatedly for paying for your ice cream and offer him the Kit Kat chunk the guy stuck into your dessert as an attempt to flirt with you, because you know Satoru loves Kit Kats, they're his favorite candy bar.

Gojo Satoru reaches one important conclusion that night, after walking you to your dorm room. You are, in fact, very easy to fall in love with.

Instead of fighting it, he lets this new feeling flourish. He starts putting in an insane amount of effort, he pays attention to the small things, he drinks up every word that you speak, he takes notes on his phone because he wants to walk the extra mile for you. His new goal in life becomes making you, the first girl who looks past the titles and likes him for him, happy. His enthusiasm in doing so never falters, even after years together or after marriage.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" he asks you as his extremely perceptive eyes take in your slumped shoulders, the dark circles under your eyes and the slight frown that replaces the pretty smile he fell in love with.

"Long day, baby, long day." you sigh and he is quick on his feet, he embraces you, leaving a loving kiss on the crown of your head.

"Change your wizarding clothes, pretty girl, I'll run you a bath. How does that sound, huh?"

"Amazing, Satoru. Thank you!" you respond, smiling tiredly, leaving a kiss on his glossy lips.

"Everything for you."

Not only does he prepare a bath, but he also lights some candles, drops some lavender-infused salts in the water, and prepares some fruits and your book as well. While you relax your body in the water which is the perfect temperature, he makes your favorite meal for dinner and starts up the fireplace so that the two of you can cuddle up on the couch.

After dinner he holds you close, absentmindedly running his hands over your back, in your hair, whispering sweet nothings into your ear, small confessions that make you feel a lot better about yourself. Satoru would like to think that he is perfect at everything, but there's only one thing he takes pride in the most: learning how to make you feel better over the years. He always knows what to do, regardless of the reason why you're down. He knows how to pick you up.

"Toru?" he hears your voice, calling him by his favorite nickname. It makes him blush every time you call him that and he swears his heart picks up too.

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"Don't you ever get tired of taking care of me?"

"How could you say that?" he asks as he sits up, glaring at you with offended eyes "Of course not, baby. You're my everything, I could never get tired of making you feel good, love. It is also my duty as your lover to ensure your happiness. It's in my contract and everything." he makes you smile fondly, adoring his way of phrasing these things. Because even the hardest of conversations are pleasant when Satoru is there to put things so stupidly.

"Oh yeah? What else is in this contract of yours?"

"That I have to kiss you all the time. And - and that I will have to get you a cat at one point because I know you want one. I have to feed you when you're hungry and I have to do the laundry when you get home late. Oh, and most importantly I always have to split my desserts with you. Only you, not even Suguru gets to do splitsies."

"I see. And what is in my contract?"

"Nothing. You already honored yours." he says curtly and you look at him with confusion.

"How?"

"Well, the only thing in your contract was that you have to be my lover. Nothing else. I'm the one doing the heavy lifting here, every day I get to spend as your significant other is a good day for me. You don't have to do anything else to make me happy." he explains.

You look him in the eyes, your irises filled with nothing but adoration towards the man in front of you. It is so easy to be in love with Gojo Satoru, because he is a gentleman in a world of boys.

[marichive]

100 INDULGENT TROPES

A collection of one hundred tropes of varying nature. Spiritual successor to my previous An Extremely Self-Indulgent Meme. Some of these pair well together and can easily be sent in various combinations. Some are also highly suggestive in nature. Engage appropriately.

one muse steps protectively in front of the other

one muse tends to the other’s injury

one muse is not acting like themselves and the other has to snap them out of it

one muse kisses the other during an argument

one muse pins the other to a wall

one muse kisses the other on their hand or wrist

one muse kisses the other on their neck or shoulder

one muse helps the other put on a necklace or tie

our muses aren’t supposed to be together but keep meeting anyway (on purpose or by accident)

our muses have a secret relationship

one muse takes a blow meant for the the other

one muse fights away enemies attacking the the other

one muse asks the other for their favor / a token before battle or a tourney

our muses share a night together believing it might be their last

our muses are in an arranged marriage / betrothal

our muses willingly marry for political reasons

our muses get married for love

our muses get married in a spur-of-the-moment decision

one muse has taken the other captive

our muses are in love but one thinks they aren’t good enough for the other

our muses are forced to ally for a common goal

our muses are enemies or former enemies but have started to fall for each other

our muses claim to hate each other but there is palpable tension between the two

our muses are trying to manipulate each other

one muse is trying to manipulate the other

our muses have feelings for each other but have conflicting loyalties

our muses are friends but have started to fall for each other

our muses are childhood friends that have been slowly falling for each other over the years

one muse has been in love with the other for a long time but is afraid their feelings are not reciprocated

one muse is in love with the other but they are in a relationship with or engaged to another person

our muses engage in a courtly romance

one muse is a knight in service to the the other’s family

one muse seeks comfort from a loveless marriage with the other, their lover

one muse traces the other’s scars

one muse kisses the other in a moment of heightened emotion

one muse confides in the other in a vulnerable moment

our muses are in love but circumstances prevent them from being together

our muses are exes who discover lingering feelings after reuniting

one muse confesses love to another after that person is injured

one muse confesses love to another because they believe they may die soon

our muses must share a bed

one muse lifts the other’s chin to look them in the eye

one muse places a hand at the back of the other’s neck to pull them extremely close

our muses have been hooking up, no strings attached

our muses have been hooking up, but one or both has developed deeper feelings

our muses are exes that hook up against their better judgement

one muse presumes the other is dead but is shocked when they show up alive again

one muse betrays their long held loyalties in order to save the other’s life from their own allies

our muses fake a relationship but have no actual interest in each other

our muses fake a relationship but start to genuinely fall for each other

one muse is known for their hard exterior and softens only in the other’s presence

one muse is the other’s weakness, something an enemy is trying to exploit

our muses are stuck somewhere together and must occupy their time

one muse has feelings for the other but has not acted on them due to their association with another character (a sibling / relative / ex / etc. ) or an organization

one muse is scared to act on feelings for the other due to poor experiences with love in the past

one muse is oblivious to the other’s feelings for them

one muse acts oblivious to the other’s feelings for them but really they are aware

one muse has unrequited feelings for the other

our muses are co-workers engaging in a hidden romance

one muse reveals one of their darkest secrets to the other

one muse comforts the other during an emotional breakdown

one muse calms the other from an intense rage

one muse’s family forbids them from seeing the other

our muses are in love but their friends / family do not support their relationship

one muse seeks redemption for past actions and comes to the other to atone

our muses regularly exchange letters

our muses move in together

our muses adopt a pet together

our muses have a child together

our muses adopt a child together

one muse discovers they are pregnant by accident

our muses have been set up by mutual friends

our muses have been set up by a matchmaker

our muses are in love with each other but are in denial

one muse is the other’s bodyguard / protector

one muse is royalty while the other is a commoner / rogue / societal outcast

one muse kisses the other for a bet

one muse relentlessly flirts with the other

our muses kiss for the first time ever

one muse wins a date with the other at an event

our muses dance together for the first time

one muse brushes their fingers through the other’s hair

one muse drunkenly confesses something to the other

our muses drunkenly hook up and wake up next to each other

our muses are roommates

our muses are partners in crime

one muse is a supernatural creature who falls for the other, who is a mortal

our muses are supernatural creatures from opposite clans or species that are historically hostile to each other

one muses is under a spell / in the middle of a monstrous transformation but somehow recognizes the other and refrains from harming them

our muses cuddle for warmth

our muses run away together

one muse wears piece of clothing or jewelry that belongs to the other

our muses bathe together

our muses cook together

our muses cuddle in bed

one muse serenades the other

one muse holds a weapon to the other as a threat

one muse physically lifts the other up

one muse protectively wraps an arm around the other

meet cute !

[pimosworld]

Hi it’s me!! Since you are open to requests, could you please do a very fluffy smut with Joel where the reader is very insecure about her body and he makes her feel loved and it’s just so sweet?? In need of a comfort daddy Joel 🥺

Pairing- Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary- Joel wants you to see your body the way he does, a work of art.

CW-18+, MDNI, NSFW, A smidge of angst because (body image issues), Fluff,miscommunication, reader is not described other than not feeling herself lately, Soft dom Joel, smut, body worship, mirror sex, fingering, unprotected piv, cream pie, self acceptance, no use of y/n

WC-2.0k

[Joel Miller Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

A\N- My first Joel request and I would say I was feeling inspired by some body issues I’ve had lately. Thank you anon for this lovely request I hope I did it justice.

Clothing optional

There was a war going on in your house. Two separate wars to be exact, although you personally had no idea about one of them. 

  You’re currently on the frontlines in your room with a pile of mass casualties on the floor beside you. As you stand and face the mirror in front of you it’s unclear who the enemy is. Logic would have you believe it’s the clothes, the clothes that fit not long ago…that much you’re sure of. The cruel part of your brain, the part you couldn’t seem to shut off was telling you the enemy was your body. This body that has carried you through life, through ups and downs, through grief and happiness. Yet you stand here and shame it, calling it the enemy. 

  This dress, one that you were never really that fond of but could always rely on it fitting was the straw that broke the camel's back. It hugs in all the wrong places and definitely seems shorter than you remembered the last time you put it on. The lace at the seams is frayed a little and you swore you heard a stitch pop when you tried to unzip yourself. Now you’re frozen in fear that you’re stuck in this godforsaken thing and you’ve still not figured out what you’re wearing to impress Joel’s business partners. He was always so put together, what could they possibly think of you by his side. 

  “Sugar ya in there?” A knock on the bedroom door and Joel’s sweet voice causes you to panic. 

  You’re not even close to being ready. Tears streaming down your face, makeup ruined and your claustrophobia is aching to get out of this dress. 

  “Don’t come in.” Your garbled voice is evident all rushed out in a frenzy as you hear the door swing open. 

  ****

  The other war. 

  A war that’s been silently brewing in the house over the last few weeks. Joel noticed something different about you. It took him a lot longer than he’d cared to admit once he realized. He knew your body in and out. Every freckle, every line, every scar or birthmark. He’d made it his mission in life to be able to pick you out of a lineup blindfolded, only tasked with his hands or his mouth.

  He was insatiable for you. 

  He never understood when other men would say that after some time you won’t be as obsessed with each other. After marriage things become monotonous and it feels like a chore. He loved chores, being able to complete a task. If loving you and worshiping your body was a chore then he wanted that duty everyday. 

  At first he thought he must’ve said or done something to upset you. He knew his mouth could be pretty reckless at times so he gave you a few days to cool off.

  When you shy away from him or insisted your shirt stayed on during sex he started to grow suspicious. Maybe he hadn’t told you enough how much he appreciated your body. He thought he did a pretty good job of it but things get complicated when you’re in the heat of the moment. He made your brain go all fuzzy and it was hard to concentrate on what he was sayin’. 

  He’d had just about had enough when he walked into the kitchen the other day. You were reaching something high up on the shelf. Instead of asking if you needed help he just stood there ogling you as your shorts rode up, exposing the bottom of your ass. He wanted to sink his teeth into it. He wanted to grip your thighs and bend you over the counter. He could just imagine it as he pounded into you from behind while you screamed his name, the ripples from his thrusts dancing across your skin. You looked so startled when you saw him there, his eyes blown black with lust as he stepped towards you. His heart broke a little when you scurried away and returned aggressively wrapping your robe around you. 

  ****

  A peace offering. 

  You knew there was no way he was staying outside at any sign of your distress. He enters your shared bedroom slowly like he’s approaching a frightened animal. You’re sure you look like one in your state. 

  He’s quite the opposite. Crisp black on black suit, his hair combed back out of his face to show off those beautiful brown eyes. His cologne wafts towards you with hints of bergamot and cedar wood. Just the sight of him has you weak in the knees. 

  “You wanna tell me what’s got ya all worked up?” He takes a tentative step towards you as you shake your head and wrap your arms around yourself. 

  He clicks his tongue, hating how defeated you look right now. “Listen sugar, I’m gonna count to ten.” He gently unfurls your arms from you and wraps them around his middle. ��And by the time I get to ten.” You take a shuddering breath against his chest relishing in the comfort he’s bringing you. “You’re gonna tell me what’s wrong.” 

  “One.” 

  “None of my clothes fit, I hate the way I look right now and I don’t want to embarrass you tonight because I look ridiculous standing next to you in some dress that I hate.” It’s all rushed out and muffled into his chest as he cradles your head and rocks you back and forth. 

  “Is that all?” He teases as you nod your head. “I’m thinkin’ maybe there’s a little more.” 

  “Two.” 

  “Well…the other day.” You let out an exasperated sigh as you look up at him. “You were starin’ at me, in the kitchen. I couldn’t tell what you were thinking, but it didn’t look good.” 

  He thinks for a moment, back to his thoughts in the kitchen and you must have read him all wrong. 

  Joel steps back from you briefly as he undoes his tie, letting it drop to the floor. “The other day in the kitchen.” His hands start to work at the buttons on his dress shirt as he shucks it off his broad shoulders. “I wasn’t tryin’ to stare. I was tryin’ to keep my hands to myself.” 

  Your breathing picks up as he undoes the buckle on his slacks and lets them join the rest of his clothes. He palms himself through his boxers, his hard length growing at the slightest touch. 

  “Joel, what are you doing?” He doesn’t answer you as his hands grip your shoulders turning you toward the mirror. “We’re gonna be late for the dinner.” 

  He leans in, taking your earlobe between his teeth as you gasp. “We’re not goin’ to the dinner sweetheart.” Joel’s eyes lock with yours in the mirror as he takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Do ya see how beautiful you are?” 

  His grip stops you from shaking your head no and you figure you might as well get with the program now, since he’s being so generous. 

  “You wanna do this your way or my way?” He asks with an eyebrow raised in question. 

  “Your way?” You shakily answer as he smiles all wide and kisses your cheek. 

  His hands make quick work of the zipper that was stuck and he eases it down your back. Carefully dragging it down your body, letting the fabric pool at your feet. His hand kneads your breast and soft whimper leaves your lips as it trails down your stomach. “You weren’t plannin on wearin’ any panties to this event?” His fingers dip lower circling your clit just barely teasing you. 

  “I…I hadn’t gotten around to them yet.” Your voice is shaky as he winds his other arm around you pulling you taught to his chest. 

  “Well good thing…you won’t be needin’ em tonight.” His words send a shiver down your spine as you stand there, naked as the day you were born trying to stay afloat. “Now, I asked you if you see how beautiful you are?” 

  “Yes.” You moan out as he slips two fingers inside, chuckling to himself as he works you open. 

  You cry out at the loss as he pulls them from you, holding them out in front of your face. It’s lewd the way he licks his fingers and his grip on you tightens as your legs threaten to give out at the sight. 

  “You want me to show ya’ what I was thinkin’ about in the kitchen?” Rhetorical question of course but you're feverishly nodding your head all the same. 

  He places a soft kiss to your neck as he guides you to the bed. Neither of you trusting your feet to carry you there. “Lay down for me baby girl. Face me.” You lay down on your stomach, resting your head on your arms as you watch him place the mirror near the edge of the bed. 

  His fingers tug down his boxers and it surprises you every time, the sheer weight of him. His cock twitches at the sight as if it knows you’re looking, admiring as you stop yourself from reaching at the angry red tip to swipe your finger through the bead of precum leaking out. 

  The bed dips behind you as he straddles your thighs. You can see him in the mirror watching you as you wiggle your ass, that fight part of your brain no longer concerned with the way you look. Not with the way he’s looking at you. Like he wants to eat you alive. 

  His fingers grip your flesh as he tilts your hips up, he’s rock hard as he slides the tip through your aching folds. You clench around nothing as you try to draw him in. 

  “Eyes on the prize baby.” You tear your eyes from him as you catch yours in the mirror. He wants you to watch, but not him. 

  You’re the prize. 

  He sinks down in one fluid motion and it takes every fiber of your being to keep your eyes open. You both moan in unison as he starts a slow agonizing pace. 

  Joel watches you as long as he can but he can’t tear his eyes away from the ripple of your skin as he pounds your flesh. Hitting something deep and devastating inside you as you clutch the sheets. Soft chants of his name punched out in his thrusts as he tries to hold off his release. It feels too good and just like his daydream. Having you bent over all fucked out, unable to form a coherent through. The only thought he wants running through that head is how perfect you are. 

  “Oh fuck…I’m the luckiest man alive, ya know that.” He grits out as he meets your eyes again. 

  His strong hands haul you up against his chest as he wraps his arms around your shoulders. All you can manage is a head nod as you keen at this new angle. 

  You can feel the beads of sweat from his hair drip down onto you as you cling to his arms, he growls in your ear as your climax peaks over you, taking you by surprise as you cry out his name. 

  “This pussy was made for me darlin’.” 

  He can feel you suck him in and his balls draw up tight. Your front bathed in a sheen of sweat down your breasts and across your stomach as you ride out the aftershocks. His hips slow to a stutter as he holds your prone and pliant body, pulsing inside you as you let out a soft exhale. 

  You’re completely and utterly wrecked and he thinks you’re like one of those renaissance paintings with the naked ladies. Better than that because you’re real and you’re all his. 

  It takes you a moment to gather yourself as you lay there, Joel’s hand draped over your body at the edge of the bed. You can finally look in the mirror and see the war that was waging was all on your head. 

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

[adonis-koo]

wicked • 18

↳ Summary: In a desperate hope to stop war from breaking you are a serviced to wed the most vile man alive, the one who has committed atrocities and war crimes beyond comprehension, he who is responsible for the fall of many nations, the wicked prince who’s heart is made of stone. You are to marry a man who challenges every belief and moral you stand for, all while being faced in a foreign land with nobody but yourself too trust…But are you both truly that different? Or is hate not too far from love?

↳ Pairing: Jungkook/reader

↳ Genre: arranged marriage AU, enemies to lovers, it’s kind of a period AU??? Historical but also technically not? prince!AU, eventual smut

Word Count: 12k

Previous | Next | Masterlist

tags: oral (f), tiddie sucking…love kink?, teasing, vaginal fingering, begging, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting (yeah…), soft dom!kook, loss of virginity, penetrative sex, it doesn’t fit, but only for a moment, size kink,  possessiveness, multiple positions, slight spanking, corruption kink if you squint, creampies (wrap it before you tap it, condoms don’t exist in this au so…yknow)

Note: this chapter was not supposed to be so horny but the brain insisted 💅

Chapel bells could be heard, a somber cry of the hazy day ahead, you sniffled trying to get the smell of ash out of your nose, squinting as you glanced through the cracked tent, the sky tinted and hazy.

You didn’t remember the sun looking quite that color, it was distorted from normal, another bell chimed and you could hear the camp from even this distant, a crackle of the fire and a sob.

“Focus!” Baba Enàir slapped the stick in front of your desk making you jump.

“Sorry Baba.”

“You can say sorry to all the folks who rely on your hands to save their kin,” Her eyes glowered down at you, “As for me, you will do good and well to pay attention.”

Your lips twitched as you stared down at your desk, eyes slowly squinting into a glare before briefly glancing behind her once more towards the open flap of the tent where you watched the girls, hands all joined skipping in a circle.

“Why can’t I be excused?” 

Baba Enair’s eyes followed yours as she sighed, perhaps taking pity on you, though if she did her eyes didn’t show it. 

“You are the Princess of Eunoia, the people look to you for hope, not the court girls.” Baba Enair replied, “Your dryad blood allows you to heal in a way other girls cannot, that other people cannot. It isn’t fair, but it’s for the war, the amount of lives you can save alone compares to ten of the court girls. It’s imperative that your skill is honed. Now focus once more.”

You sighed, you had heard the same reason again and again, one day you hoped it would finally mean something to you though, today however, was not that day.

Regardless of how you felt, you stuck your hands back into the moon water, a small beautiful red fish, evidentially dying as it struggled to swim around. 

You closed your eyes.

“Now start your three part breath, calm your mind.” Baba Enair instructed.

You took a deep breath from your stomach, slowly expanding it to your chest and then your throat, finally letting it exhale, after a few more breaths you began to speak.

“Ni esta- upon I cemen, eless- mama na- laiva,” 

“Louder.” Baba Enair commanded.

“Let your coiv- mauime- celusse minna -yes’s eala-“ you winced as you yanked your hands from the water, the water boiling and your lips parting, feeling a piece of your heart crack at the fish, no longer swimming, but floating.

Your eyes watered as your lips trembled, you wanted him to have a peaceful passing, but all you caused was pain…

Baba Enair slapped the stick on your table, “You were too fast, too hasty! Rushing your studies will only make them last longer. Save your tears child, you will have much to cry for if you cannot even heal a fish.”

Your eyes only closed letting the tears stream down your face, the scene shifted, the tent no longer over you, but the sky above.

Thick with clouds of ash and the fire raged on, the sickening smell of death in the air, people groaning in agony and cries of mourning.

“How could you let him die you bitch! He was only a child!”

Your mouth was ajarred as you took an unsteady step back, “I’m- I’m sorry but I tried everything-“ the tent behind you being prepped for the fire, there laid a boy no older than four, a head wound that he had accidentally reopened when he fell down, attempting to play with his friend.

Blood was everywhere, even now covering your hands as tears gathered in your eyes, “I’m sorry.”

The older mother only glared as if you were nothing more than a speck of dirt under her shoe, “You’ve no right to cry!” She screamed out, reaching out as she grabbed your hair making you yelp, “You are no princess of this country! You are nothing! The dryads have abandoned your veins!” 

Guards had already pulled her off but she made sure to shove you down, gravel digging into your palms as sharp jagged pain entered your body.

Tears dripped down your nose as you heard the woman scream and cry, throwing curse words your way only for her voice to be guided elsewhere as her son’s body was carried out of the tent.

Placed into a bag but it was evident he was in there, you glanced at the large bonfire, cowardly. You looked back at the ground, unable to watch them toss his body in.

You heard her wails and cries as the fire burned bright.

And suddenly, it was surrounding you, suffocating you as you cried out, the plead of a child, the skin melting from your hands and-

You gasped, sweat dripping from your body as you sat up in bed, wincing as if something of ash still lingered in your lungs, coughing you grabbed the water carafe from your nightstand, pouring a drink.

Leaning your back against your bed board, it was just a dream…you took a shaky breath, attempting to close your eyes,

‘blood covering your face, skin hanging and cartilage visible’

Your eyes shot back open upon being greeted with Di Jin’s dead face.

It had already been difficult to go to sleep, his cold dead face showing up every time you closed your eyes, or in your dreams once you had finally slept. Tonight had been different though, different difficulties deciding to present themselves this time.

All better forgotten nonetheless.

It had only been two days, and yet, it felt as if no time had passed at all, slowly you peeled the covers off yourself, shivering as you grabbed your nightgown cover, putting the long sleeve on as you walked to the door.

The room suddenly felt too closed in, too suffocating, you needed air.

Opening the door, you were greeted with your personal knight Yoongi, his injuries still healing, but he was doing far better than you.

When the unfortunate event of Di Jin and Seohyun showed up, Yoongi had shown up the morning after, bruised and battered, the entire operation of the tower being sieged a guise to bait him out and even better if it killed him, and worst of all it worked. 

Well, the bit to draw him out, but evidently he was still very much alive.

“Your Highness?” Yoongi raised his brows a little, not surprised to see you up, but a little concern evident in his eyes.

“I wish to go for a walk.” Your voice was a quiet croak, shaky even.

“Of course.” Yoongi replied.

“Can it be…as if I were by myself?” Your lips turned into a small frown.

Yoongi gave you a weak smile, “You won’t even notice me.” 

You nodded before walking past him, a little ways ahead before you could only assume he melded into the shadows, trailing behind unseen but still within a safe distance.

The corridors were empty, save for a few guards who bowed for you before giving you no grief, everyone looked at you differently though. 

It was evident in their eyes, the way they all warily kept a distance. 

Once upon a time, you had gotten used to your title, the Bitch of Eunoia.

But now they had all taken to calling you something different, something new, the Blood-Devoured Bitch. It was a hybrid name, both of Penumbrian and Eunoian background, sickening and yet flattering all the same, it suited you, you supposed.

Stepping out into the courtyard you innately shivered, ice cold air penetrated easily past your cover, wrapping your arms around yourself you took a big breath of air.

It’s crisp cool entered your lungs like new life, and for a moment you felt better.

Sitting down on the bench you curled into yourself, and suddenly the weight of your soul felt heavy again, you were so tired. A type of tired that sleep would not make go away.

Staring at the moon, you let its light be your only comfort, surely better days would come.

Jungkook couldn’t describe his level of worry for you, you had woken up physically fine, a minor wound to your chest where Di Jin had attempted to kill you. But you yourself were not fine.

You looked haunted, any food put in front of you was left untouched, and even if you did eat, you were unable to keep anything down.

Jungkook thought once Wheein was safe, things would get better. But it was clear to him this was hardly the case and what made it worse was you were isolating yourself now, refusing to talk to him or anyone else.

Wheein had desperately wanted to see you but Jungkook firmly sent her back to Skol demanding she take some time to herself, being in the dungeon for the last three weeks was no good for anybody mentally, especially her.

Meanwhile he was left to pick up the pieces of whatever had happened at the estate, and it didn’t take a genius to figure it out. 

He felt horrible, he wanted you to go to the estate because he thought it was safe, but as it turns out, he nearly sent you to your death. He hadn’t pushed the topic with you, left you alone if you didn’t respond.

He just wanted you to be okay, it pained him seeing you like this. 

You felt unreachable, and it made him feel as if he was literally losing his mind.

But tonight was Sunday, the day the family gathered together for dinner, Jungkook’s hopes were low but he could only hope that you would show up, he was worried and even more so at a loss of what to do, or if he could do anything at all.

You killed Di Jin. 

The Eunoian Princess, who had sworn an oath to never kill, who came from a pacifistic nation, who had divine dryad blood running through her veins, killed someone. 

And Jungkook knew you wouldn’t listen to him, it mattered not that you did it in self defense, it didn’t change the fact that you still broke your oath. Dinner had been quiet, nobody talking and this was to be expected, after all, everyone almost murdered your hand maid, you almost died, and then not only killed Di Jin, the kings oldest and dearest friend, but also Seohyun, Jungkook’s old fiancé.

Guards had gone to the estate to clean up the mess only to find her mangled body, torn apart by a wolf- namely yours.

Perhaps it wasn't directly you, but it mattered not, you would still take the guilt.

The doors opened and Jungkook straightened in his seat, you gave a short courtesy before taking your seat next to him, your eyes looked sunken in and it was evident you hadn’t slept a single night. 

Jungkook could feel it clawing at his chest with the urge to do something, anything, but he knew all too well this would be something you would have to reconcile with yourself, in your own time.

Dinner was quiet and his uncle and aunt only murmured conversation, Jungkook could only let out a quiet sigh as he lifted his goblet to his lips, wine almost never solved his problems but it did help him relax. 

“Yes, apparently a wild pack of dogs attacked Vail yesterday,” Jeong Dae’s voice was quiet, Areum’s eyes on him as she took a sip of her wine.

Their voices were the only one’s at the table that have yet to talk, after all they had always managed to keep the conversation going in these awkward events.

You were twirling your soup in its bowl, having not attempted to eat, eyes strictly somewhere between the table and your food.

“Well there needs to be more guards posted in the outer district’s now that this whole assassin business is finished,” Areum replied, leaning back in her chair, “They had four fatality’s which could’ve been prevented with adequate soldiers number’s.”

“Or perhaps we just need better soldiers,” Jeong Dae mused, “Perhaps our War Matron should make her return.”

You finally gathered a spoonful of your soup, watching the steam rise from it’s surface before you pushed it into your mouth. Jungkook wasn’t trying to stare, but it was difficult to look away when you were having to force every drop of broth down.

Areum scoffed, “Unless war is on the horizon I would rather rot. There was only one guard there, and he was passing through on his patrol.” 

You gathered another spoonful, looking at it once more as if having to mentally prepare yourself. 

“Is a shame though,” Jeong Dae sighed, “It was an absolute mess when I arrived, blood everywhere, one of the poor lad’s had his throat ripped out-”

A loud cough cut off the conversation, all eyes on you as you grabbed your mouth, lurching in your seat as if attempting to not vomit, “Excuse me.” You didn’t even so much as wait for a reply, shoving yourself out of your chair and promptly exiting. 

Jungkook was immediately pushing himself out of his chair, not even saying a word as he quickly followed after you. You probably didn’t want to see him, but he simply couldn’t stand watching you like this. 

He needed to do something, anything. 

“Y/n!” He called out as you rushed down the hall. 

You shook your head as you took a sharp left, going down the stairs towards the cellar, Jungkook quickly stepping down the stairs as he called your name once more. 

It was dark and only candles lit the air, dust could be seen if one got too close, walls of wine and dry goods stored as you turned the corner of a storage wall, weaving towards the very back where surely no one would go. 

Jungkook quickly followed behind, turning the last corner of the storage wall before he sighed out, a dead end with you at the last wall, back still turned but your sobs evident, hands covering your eyes as you tried to regain your breath but struggling to do so. 

It came out in choked wheezes as you coughed and gagged, struggling to calm yourself down, flashes of blood, images of flesh and gore, no matter how many times you washed out your mouth, you could still taste it. 

Raw flesh going down your throat. 

Jungkook finally stopped at your back, unable to find any words, he could only pull you to face him, and he hated it, how it always seemed your face was filled with tears more than smiles, “I can’t get it out!” 

You felt like a helpless child all over again, unable to help yourself let alone anyone else, but you felt so lost, you didn’t know what to do, you had all of these new feelings, all of these new sins you had to carry. 

You let out another sob as Jungkook pulled you in, and you could do nothing but collapse against him as you cried, “I can’t get the taste out! No matter- wh-what I eat, what I drink, I still taste it!” 

Jungkook only soothing hushed you, pressing his lips on top of your head, “I know.” He ushered softly, “I’m sorry.”

His arms wrapped around you tighter as you cried, resting your head into his shoulder, after a few minutes passed you had finally managed to calm your breath into steady.

“I can’t go back, I can’t undo everything I’ve done, I don’t know what to do anymore,” You tried to not weep but the tears slowly began to trickle back down your cheeks as you lamented, “My whole life i’ve been told I’m supposed to save lives,”

You pressed your hands against his jacket, looking up at him, “So why is it, all I ever seem to do is take them?” 

Jungkook tenderly cupped your cheeks in his hands, thumbing the tears away as he pressed his forehead against yours, “I can’t speak for all of your past doings, but I can speak for what happened at the estate, your survival was dependent on your ability to defend yourself. You were forced to do what anybody would do.”

You shook your head in remorse, closing your eyes as you stifled a sob, Jungkook tenderly stroking your cheeks as he continued, “Humans are instinctive creatures, though you are part dryad, it seems violence runs in your veins.” 

You sniffled, “That’s terrifying! You should be terrified. Everyone looks at me differently now, certainly you do as well, I killed the woman who was supposed to be your wife!” 

Jungkook sighed, tenderly tracing your jawline with those long fingers of his, “The only thing that truly terrified me? Was when you walked through those gates covered in blood, and I realized I had unknowingly sent you to your death, unable to be there for you, unable to protect you, failing as a husband. That terrifies me.” 

Your lips trembled as Jungkook’s fingers traced down your neck to your collarbone, “But you? I told you to show me all of you, and that I would take you as you are, my words still stand.” His fingers trailed down the center of your chest, stopping at the covered wound, the mark where Di Jin had attempted to make his finishing blow. 

“How could I be afraid of someone I love?” It was nothing louder than a whisper. 

It caused your gut to wrench as you violently shook your head, “Don’t say that, please don’t say that Jungkook.” You immediately escaped his arms, every step you took back Jungkook closed the gap with another forward. 

“I don’t expect it to be requited, you don’t have to say it back Y/n but I’ve went through all stages of grief about it, I can’t change it,” Jungkook wasn’t backing down though, “I am in love with you and everything I thought I knew about love, everything I thought I knew about women, feelings, all of it, you came into my life and taught me that I was a fool to ever assume as much. I love you.” 

“Stop saying it! Please, you don’t mean that, please don’t say it so easily…”

Your back was pressed against the wall as you shook your head, Jungkook standing tall in front you, delicately leaning down, both his forearms on either side of you as he whispered, “I love you Y/n, and you will not dictate to me whether that is the truth or not. My love for you has been anything but easy, don’t discredit how I feel because I’m the first to admit it.”

“You can’t love me,” You whispered, eyes blurring once more as flashes of Seohyun’s mangled body appeared in your vision. 

“Loving you is like loving the sun,” Jungkook replied softly, “Effortless, and if I’m meant to burn in its light, then I'd die happily in doing so. My precious sun, the light of my life. Let me love you, let me take care of you, let me protect you, let me never leave your side again.”

“Jungkook…”

“I failed you, let you leave my side, sent you to the estate. It’s ultimately my own fault, and I’ll spend the rest of my life redeeming myself for it. But please, don’t punish me anymore,” Jungkook’s eyes sombered, a sort of tender plea in them, “I can’t be apart from you anymore, I’ve tried to give you space, time to think, to heal, but just as you need me, I need you. I need you just like the moon needs the sun.” 

You had no words, unable to speak, overwhelmed by so many different feelings, but one thing you knew for certain was that when you looked at Jungkook, you felt at home. You said nothing, only gently laying your forehead in the crook of his neck, arms wrapping around him. 

Trying to drown out the voices, the memories in his warmth, you were so terribly homesick, and Jungkook was surely your only remedy to this. 

His arms wrapped around you in return, holding you tightly as he pressed a kiss against your head, “It’s selfish, but please, don’t deny me, love me, lay with me, we’re married, but I want you to be my wife.”

“Take me back to our bedroom.” You whispered to him, curling into his warmth as you shuddered, trying so hard to not let the vivid grotesque images back into your mind. 

There was nothing quite like the warmth a bath could offer, steaming wafting from heat and dipping your body in made you realize just how chilled you had become throughout the day. Perhaps the best part was sitting perched in your husband’s lap, head laying on his shoulder as he tended to you.

The warmth of the washcloth running along your body, his hands that had easily taken tens if not hundreds of lives tenderly running through your hair as he washed you, he of course didn’t miss the opportunity to feather your neck in kisses. 

“Is this okay?” He whispered in your ear, you nodded wanting nothing more than for him to keep making you forget, you didn’t want to remember anymore. 

Jungkook was still tenderly cleaning you up, lips occasionally going back to your neck with a few gentle kisses and eventually after bathing you both settled in the water, just enjoying one another’s embrace. 

His fingers tracing circles on your back before running down your waist, squeezing your ass for a moment before his hand would return back up your waist, touching you however he wanted, simply because he could. 

It was a comforting gesture, but it was also evident how aroused you both were, every time his hand would dip under the water, it made your body just a little more excited, feeling his hand gripping your flesh tightly, making you shift a little and the first tiniest audible moan escaping your lips. 

You could feel it briefly, his hardened cock resting against his chiseled abdomen, Jungkook’s lips pressed against your neck once more, this time suckling the skin as his other hand trailing down your waist before gripping the other side of your ass. 

A soft moan escaped your lips, making your hips shift, nudging his cock once more making his lips suckle your skin a little harder, he released the skin after a moment, as if not wanting to mark it, “Let me make you feel good, my little sun.”

His fingers digging into your skin, his tongue dragging on your neck, “Please.” You ushered out a small moan. 

Jungkook’s hand’s suddenly grabbed your waist, “Hold on,” He said and you didn’t understand for a moment until he suddenly picked you up, bringing you out of the water, grabbing one of the towels from off the stool he laid it out on the bed to not get it wet before dropping you down. 

The fire crackled on, the only light source in the room, leaving it dark and warm, but the silhouette of Jungkook’s body was still very evident, his hard cock even more so as he stood tall in front of your figure. 

You felt so small in comparison in this moment, but it didn’t last long as Jungkook leaned down, “You’re so perfect.” He whispered, lips pressing into yours as if he could sense your anxiousness, your body was so pliable though, having his hovering over you protectively. You moaned into the kiss, body relaxing as one of his hands found your thighs, pushing them apart tenderly as you opened them for him.

Your cunt was throbbing and wet, eager to be touched by him as Jungkook broke the kiss, letting his tongue drag down your throat and to your collarbone before he feathered more kisses, pausing at your breasts. 

Jungkook couldn’t resist wrapping his lips around your left tit, this forced a moan from you, hips shifting in need as a hand steady them, as if telling you to be patient, he traded for your right tit next, moaning softly against your skin as if relishing in it. 

“Jungkook…!” You whined softly, watching the explicit sight, your thighs spreading a little more in need. 

Jungkook’s eyes almost glowed in the dark, that icy blue piercing gaze, hazy and filled with lust as he released your tit from his lips, a small lazy smirk tugging on his lips, “Yes, my love?” 

It felt like knots were forming in your stomach, “Love me, you keep saying it, show me how it feels.” 

Jungkook gave you a small smile, “You don’t need to ask me twice.” His lips pressed down your stomach and your body was reacting in all the ways he could hope as he made his way down to your hips, tenderly, slowly, licking up every reaction he got before he settled himself between your thighs. 

Still he seemed to enjoy getting you worked up, lips pressing against your inner thigh making you squirm, your cunt dripping wet as you whined, “Jungkook!” 

His tongue dragged just a little closer to where you wanted it, “What do we say when we want something?” 

“Please…!” 

Jungkook moaned softly as his tongue pressed against your cunt making you let out a moan of relief, his hot wet tongue mixing with your arousal as he pressed against your little opening before dragging it up your slit, right where you wanted it. 

You moaned softly as his tongue pressed against your clit, you shifted onto your forearm, your other hand reaching down to bury in his wet dark locks of hair, his tongue swirling around the tender bud as pleasure shot through your body making your thighs open further for him.

His eyes closed as he moaned against your clit, wrapping his lips around it as if suckling something sweet, it made a sharp whine escape you as you yanked his hair hips lifting for him. 

“Mm Jungkook.” You ushered out softly as his lips parted, tongue lathing against the little bud that had you squirming in pleasure. 

“Relax my love,” Jungkook moaned into your cunt, “Let me make you cum as many times as you please.” 

His fingers snuck down to your cunt as his lips wrapped back around your clit making you whine, his tongue having found a particularly sweet spot that had you grabbing his hair.

His fingers toyed with your little hole at first, letting them get nice and sticky from your arousal before he pushed a digit in, your body immediately reacted, walls clenching around him as a strangled whine left you. 

His lips parted as his tongue lathed your clit, continuously flicking the sweet spot of your bud as you whimpered, your cunt throbbing in pleasure as his finger began to pump inside you, “Relax princess, I got you,” Jungkook’s lidded eyes met yours, and briefly you could see his finger, knuckle deep in your cunt. 

As if noticing this as well a small smirk curled on his lip as he pulled it out, before gathering both his middle and ring finger, pushing it back inside you, it made you wince a little in discomfort, “Shh, give your body to me, I’ll take care of it my love,” Jungkook moaned softly, his cock was rock hard at watching you moan and wither beneath him in pleasure.

Your walls clenching tightly around his fingers as he thrusted them inside you, his lips tenderly pressing into your thigh to soothe you as your body slowly relaxed just as he said.

Your hips slowly lifted in sync with his as you whined, Jungkook buried himself back in your cunt once more, tongue lapping at your little clit, getting the exact reaction he had hoped. 

A loud cry escape you, thighs suddenly wrapping around his head just the way he wanted them too, wanting to be suffocated by your cunt and nothing else, his fingers immediately began pumping rougher inside you as you whined unable to keep yourself supported anymore as you collapsed back against the bed. 

“Koo! Mmm! Please Koo!” Your words were mumbled and whiny as his tongue viciously swirled and suckled your throbbing bud, his fingers suddenly lifting inside you as if in search for something. 

Pleasure was becoming more consistent, more intense as Jungkook's moan vibrated against your clit and his fingers pushing all the way inside you as they lifted once more, the pleasure that suddenly snapped through your body was indescribable, a loud whimper escaping you. 

His name came in shambled shorter variations as you whined and moaned, your walls rapidly squeezing around his fingers as he kept thrusting into the same spot again and again.

Jungkook kept lapping at your clit, finding that sweet spot once more as you withered beneath him, back arching as your mind blurred with pleasure, “Oh..! Oh god, please! Yes! Mmm!” 

Your voice echoed throughout the bedroom loudly as fits of moans  escaped your mouth, lips parted at just how good you felt, “Cum for me, cum all over my fingers sweetheart,” Jungkook moaned before his lips parted against your clit, lazily rubbing into that little spot as his fingers ruthlessly rubbed into that spot inside you. 

And you did. 

Your walls rapidly wrapped around his fingers as he kept shoving them inside you, his tongue attached to your bud, milking your orgasm as unholy noises escaped your lips, mixtures of thanks, of his name, cries to the empty sky. 

It just kept going, the pleasure only heightened as you squealed out, hands digging into his hair as his tongue swirled over your clit, fingers refusing to stop as they hit that same spot inside you over and over again. 

It had your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your thighs trembling as you completely gave your body up to him, relaxing into the building sensation inside your cunt as your walls kept squeezing around his fingers, his tongue not stopping on your clit as he suckled it once more. 

His tongue finding just the right spot as it all spiked once more, your moans were shaky and cried out as blind pleasure washed over you once more, cumming all over his fingers but not only that liquid suddenly spewing lewdly from your little hole. 

“Fuuck,” Jungkook moaned, lifting your hips suddenly as his fingers abused your little entrance, hitting that spot over and over again as your body withered against him, “Such a good girl.” 

His fingers finally pulled out of your cunt, your thighs trembling as he set you down, moaning as he kissed your thighs, hands dragging against your waist, “Fuck, I want you so bad sweetheart, wanna fill you up, wanna feel you cum all over my cock.” 

You were heaving deep breathes, trying to comprehend the pleasure you just experienced, you were hazy still as your hand tenderly combed through his hair, “Then do so…” You gazed at him, hazey and the darkness made it difficult to make out his expression, “You said you wanted me to be your wife, then make me your wife.” 

Jungkook’s gaze shot up to you as you weakly smiled, “I want you to be my husband, but we’ve never consummated it. I want to.” 

Jungkook moaned softly, his cock throbbing as he crawled up to you, arms hovering on either side of you as he stared down at you, “You mean it?” 

“Of course I do,” You whispered, hands creeping up his neck and back to his hair once more, pulling him down for a kiss that he would never deny you. 

Jungkook moaned softly into the kiss before he broke it, pressing a kiss against your neck, “It’ll hurt,” He whispered, “But I’ll make sure it doesn’t last long.” 

Jungkook shifted you further up the bed as he sat on his knees, between your thighs as you parted them for him, feeling nervous, but you felt so safe with him, you wanted him, craved him. Jungkook’s fingers brushed over your cunt, puffy and wet as you shuddered. 

His hand was soaked in your arousal as before he wrapped it around his cock, just as big and fat as you remembered. His eyes didn’t leave yours as he pumped his cock in his hand, it made you feel shy as you shifted beneath him. 

“Are you sure?” He murmured, you nodded. 

Grabbing your thighs he pulled you closer to him before he grabbed his cock once more, rubbing the fat weeping head of his cock against your cunt as you let out a shaky exhale, you knew he was big but…he was really big compared to you.

Just the size of his head was nearly as big as your cunt itself, “Jungkook I don’t…-”

“It’ll fit.” He reassured, a little amused, pulling the head of his cock to your little entrance before attempting to push it in. 

You winced in pain as you shifted, you weren’t sure how you expected this to go, it really wasn’t something you had ever fantasized about. But the first attempt was lackluster due to the fact that he indeed was not getting it in.

Jungkook’s nose wrinkled, “Ugh fuck. Hold on,” He whispered, shifting a little more, setting your thighs a top of his a little more, lining his cock back up to your entrance as he pushed once more. 

He pushed the fat head of his cock against your entrance once more, this time however, you let out a yelp, the sensation almost burning as you shifted in discomfort against him, “Ah…! Fuck that hurts.” You let out a weak whine, biting down on your lip hard. 

And it did, all you could focus on was how much it ached and burned having your walls pushed open by something so large and foreign.

Jungkook leaned down, arms on either side of you as he pressed feathery kisses into your neck, “I’m sorry, my love,” His whisper was strained, “Just let yourself relax, it won’t last long.” He let out a slight shaky moan as he pushed himself just a little deeper inside you.

You tried to let yourself relax as much as possible, but your brows were still pinching together and it was difficult for it to not hurt when he was just really that big. 

Jungkook suddenly pulled out of you making you sigh in relief, Jungkook pressed another comforting kiss against your neck as he pushed the head of his cock back inside, only this time, it wasn’t nearly as painful, a little discomfort of having something foreign inside your body. 

But it wasn’t nearly as bad, Jungkook’s muscles were completely tensed and his breath was shaky as he buried his face into your neck with a moan, “Fuck sweetheart, you feel so fucking good wrapped around me.” 

Jungkook his deep raspy words in your ear made your walls squeeze around him, making him push a little deeper inside you as you let out a soft whine, shifting your hips as if trying to take more of him. 

Jungkook could feel this, immediately pushing his cock deeper inside you, “Oh my god,” He whispered, “Fucking perfect, perfect cunt, perfect body, perfect for me. Look at that little cunt, taking me so well.” 

You whined at his hips thrusting a little, as if testing the water’s, “Koo…mmm!” Your eyes snapped shut at feeling his cock splitting your walls open, hitting all the right places.

Jungkook moaned as his hips slowly began to thrust, his cock still not fully inside you but with each thrust it got a little closer, “Feels so warm, so little, fuck, keep wrapping around me like that love.” 

His shaft rubbed right into that sweet spot that had you moaning, legs wrapping around his waist, your cunt felt so full and yet wanted so much more, Jungkook’s hips were becoming a little faster, “Such a perfect cunt, mine. All mine.” There was a hint of possessiveness in his words. 

Your hands dug in his hair, “All yours.” You whimpered out quietly as your body started jolting, his hips becoming rougher at the words, “Your cunt, yours.” 

Jungkook let out a rough moan, deep and raw as if those words made him all hot and bothered, “Fuck yeah it is,” He suddenly growled in your ear, “You’re my fuckin’ wife, my cunt to play with, my cunt to make cum again and again. Mine.” 

You suddenly whimpered at feeling his cock going deeper inside you, your eyes shutting as you moaned for him, knowing he wanted to hear them, knowing how much he liked to see you in pleasure, “Mmm! Like that.” 

“Oh? Like this?” He smirked against your skin as he thrusted particularly harsh, his cock going deep inside you once more, your walls rapidly clenching around him as you moaned, nails dragging against his back. 

“What about this?” He murmured in your ear, pushing his hips all the way until they met yours, his cock completely buried in your warm little cunt as you shakily moaned, eyes squeezing shut at how deep he was inside, how thick and fat his cock was, completely splitting open your walls. 

“Mmm fuck, yeah.” You ushered softly, creaming all over his cock, arousal coating it as your walls squeezed around him, you had finally found heaven, it was Jungkook buried inside your cunt. 

Jungkook moaned as well, feeling how tight your walls squeezed around him in pleasure, as if suddenly starved Jungkook grabbed your thigh, bringing it over his shoulder as his hips shifted, rapidly thrusting into you as you yelped in surprise. 

But pleasure was immediately blooming side you, his shaft rubbing all the right spots, balls slapping against your skin as you whimpered for him, “Oh! Right there, yeah! Yes, god…!” 

Jungkook moaned, “Fuck yeah, squeeze around me baby, know you wanna cum on it, cum all over this fat cock, gonna fill you up until your dripping.” 

Your hips lifted with his, moaning at how good it felt, his cock roughly dragging in and out of you, pushing your walls open with each thrust, “Mmm wanna cum all over it.” 

Jungkook moaned, thrusting particularly hard this time making you whine before he suddenly shifted, letting go of your thigh as he suddenly sat up right, but dragging you with him, his cock pulling out of you as you whined. 

Thighs trembled and uncertain of this new position as Jungkook sat you in his lap, immediately grabbing his cock as he pushed it back inside you, except you were a little awkward, “Mm Koo I don’t-”

“Like this love.” Jungkook moaned, grabbing your hips as he lifted them, this new position made you feel him in an entirely new way, your lips parting as an involuntary moan escaped you, trying to mimick the way his hips guided you. 

Sliding down his cock as you moaned, feeling how deep he was inside you, your walls rapidly clenched, Jungkook’s hands tightened around your ass, “Fuck yeah sweetheart, can feel you wrapping around it, cum.” His head suddenly dove down, lips parting on your right tit as he suckled it harshly making you cry out, walls clenching around him as you lowered your hips all the way down. 

Your arousal dripping on his balls as he lifted you, fucking you on his cock as you whined pathetically, not of much use when he fucked you like this, his lips suckled your tit harshly once more, “Cum,” He growled, his hand suddenly smacking your right ass cheek making you yelp. 

Your body however, loved that feeling of pain, your cunt squeezing around his cock as he roughly bounced you on it, “Like that? Like getting spanked sweetheart?” Jungkook grinned deviously, suddenly smacking your ass even harder, your body reacting to it as your walls clenched harder around him. 

“Mmm! M’ gonna cum..Koo!” You whimpered out, all the sensations overwhelming you as Jungkook continued to bounce you on his cock, pushing you deeper on him as he smacked your ass once more, this time hitting just under the cheek, the pain mixed with the pleasure as you moaned loud, walls squeezing rapidly around his cock. 

Your lips parted as you came all over his fat shaft, being bounced roughly as Jungkook moaned, “Fuck yeah, thats it princess,” Jungkook moaned, wrapping his around around your waist as he laid back on the bed, bring you with him a top as his hips lifted, rapidly thrusting up inside you, this orgasm was much deeper, more powerful as he continued to bottom out inside you making sure he was completely buried inside you.

“Fuck my love, that’s it.” Jungkook ushered a moan, you felt it before you heard it, something indescribably warm shooting deep inside your cunt, “Mm that’s it, take it like the good girl you are.” 

You let out the tiniest whine, burying your head in his shoulder as he let out a deep sigh of contentment, relishing in his orgasm, how long had he imagined holding you like this?

His lips tugged into a lopsided smile as his eyes opened, looking at you as if you were the only thing in the world, as if in deep admiration, love.

You supposed that look in his eyes, could only be described adequate as love, “My goddess,” He mused, fingers trailing your face, his hand trailed down your side before grabbing your hand, the skin discolored in large patches. 

Jungkook pressed his lips against the palm before tenderly planting a kiss on each finger, the gesture was so full of love it made your eyes fill with tears that did not shed, his lips pressed against your wrist, “The love of my life, I know I cannot change the past,”

Jungkook laid you both on your side as he wrapped his arm around you, “But we will get through this together.”

You weren’t sure what it was, the earnest look in his eyes, the pure devotion in his voice, but you believed him, you wholeheartedly believed him, “We will.” You whispered back, leaning in to press your lips against his.

It was filled with nothing but sweetness, tenderly pressing over yours as he let out a soft moan, his hand finding its home around your neck, not squeezing but simply holding it, “My wife.” He moaned against the kiss, “My beautiful wife. I don’t think there will ever be a day I don’t love you. Sleep, and if you wake, I’ll be here to hold you.” 

Sleep did not come easily, Jungkook had managed to get you both under the warm covers, scaring off whatever little coldness that had tickled your skin, the last hour before he fell asleep had been silent, his fingers tracing circles against your back, enjoying one another's warmth. 

You had eventually fell asleep but dreams you could not remember had plagued you back awake, your eyes were tired but you could see blue light streaming in from the window, it wouldn’t be long before your day would begin. 

Still, you laid dozing off enjoying your Jungkook who hadn’t let go of you the whole time, skin to skin contact soothing, you had rolled onto your stomach, letting the weight of his body near on top of you soothe your eyes back shut. 

Shifting a little to get comfortable this must have accidentally awoke him as you felt a gentle kiss press on your shoulder a sleepy groan escape his lips, “How long have you been awake?” He mumbled, his voice quiet, deeper and raspier than normal. 

“...Not too long, I’ve woken up multiple times though.” You whispered, keeping your eyes shut as you felt his hand slowly stroke your waist. 

You would never say it out loud, but you could definitely get use to being petted like this.

“You should’ve woke me up,” Jungkook pressed another kiss against your skin, this time your neck, “Let us lay together in silence.” 

“We could be laying in silence right now.” You offered a tiny tired smile though you weren’t sure he could see it. 

“We could.” Jungkook murmured, his lips pressing onto your neck once more, this time parting as his tongue tenderly lapped over your skin, the act itself made your breath hitch, body stirring as you tilted your head, letting him have more access to your skin. 

You kept your eyes closed, allowing him to give you open mouthed kisses over your neck, not too long in each spot to be mindful of marking, his tongue delicately tracing over each patch just enough to tease. 

It seemed he finally got what he wanted out of you, a tiny moan as he shifted you both, now spooning you, your bare ass promptly snug against his hard cock, his lips suckling the skin of your neck as his hand snaked over your waist, grabbing a handful of your tit as he pinched your nipple. 

You whined as you rubbed back against him a little, this made his hand immediately grab your hip, squeezing it to stay still before it hooked over your thigh to lift it, your cunt glossy and wet, dried cum staying your thighs no doubt. 

Your face felt hot and flush and suddenly the covers that had kept you warm were like an inferno, Jungkook shifted, grabbing his cock as he let his fat weeping head rub along your puffy slit. 

A small breath escaped you as he rubbed it over your sensitive clit before back to your little entrance, and then pushing it in, your brows pinched together in discomfort, his size still big for your body to adjust too. 

“Shhh,” He whispered against your neck, moaning softly as his hips started thrusting, his cock pushing further inside you as you whined, “Fuck, can’t believe this pussy is all mine,” Jungkook ushered quietly, “Mine to fuck, mine to love, mine to cum inside. Mine.” 

You moaned against the pillow, your walls squeezing tight around his cock as he thrusted further inside you before pushing all the way in, his shaft rubbing just the right way inside you, “Mmm, Jungkook.” You moaned quietly. 

You could feel his wicked smirk on your skin, hips suddenly thrusting rough up into you, his cock throbbing as his balls smacked against your skin, “Moan my name, only mine. Want everyone to hear, to know how good I fuck you.” 

You bit down on your lip at his hips thrusting at a steady but rough pace, each time pulling almost out of you only to shove all the way back in, the fat head of his cock hitting that sweet spot inside you each time. 

“That's right sweetheart, cream all over it, wanna feel this pretty little cunt cum all over my cock,” Jungkook moaned in your ear, that deep rasp in his voice had your clit throbbing and your walls wrapping around him as you whined. 

Overwhelmed by how big he was, how good it felt you nearly cried out at the feeling of his cock pulling out of you, your muscles tensed as your eyes snapped open at being robbed of your pleasure. 

Jungkook had a sleepy smirk on his face as he sat upright against the headboard, pulling the covers off to reveal his fat, proud cock, glossy with your arousal as he offered you a hand, “Come sit on your throne my goddess.” 

Your body felt hot in all kinds of ways as you took his hand before slowly crawled to him, Jungkook however manhandled you to sit on his lap, your back pressing into his chest as he pried your thighs apart, the position was all too familiar as you whined. 

“Jungkook…!” 

“Remember what I said last time?” Jungkook pressed a long kiss against your neck, shifting you as he grabbed his cock, gleaming coated in your arousal as he pushed the head back inside you, an audible moan from you echoing in the room as you watched in arousal and horror at how much he was splitting your cunt. 

Your body could do nothing but sink down on it, whines and whimpers escaping you once again at just how thick his cock was, finally meeting the base as your body rested against his, Jungkook however had different plans, grabbing your thighs to lift them a little as he suddenly starting thrusting. 

His fast pace took you off guard as you gurgled a moan, eyes unable to look at anything except his cock pulling in and out of your cunt, covered in slick arousal as you felt his shaft squeezing past your soft warm walls each time, hitting up into your sweet spot that had you moaning. 

“You like watching?” Jungkook grinned, a breathy moan escaping him as his chin rested on your shoulder, eyes hazy as he watched his cock push all the way inside you, “Like being made to take this big fat cock while being made to watch.”

Jungkook’s eyes squeezed shut at how hard your walls suddenly clenched around him, taking everything in him to not cum this very moment, “You’re so fucking little,” He groaned, fingers digging into your thighs, “Love feeling that pretty little cunt wrap around me, heh yeah like that fuuck.” 

His fingers found your clit rubbing them as you yelped out, walls rapidly clenching around him in a feeling that he was quickly starting to familiarize himself with, it made his cock throb in pleasure as he lifted once more, shifting you both a little so you laid back more against his chest, thrusting harder and faster this time as he pressed your clit between his fingers. 

“Mmph! Koo-! Fuck, ah! Yes! Oh god, like that, please! Please!” Moans escaped you incohesively, surrendering your body to him as he fucked you roughly, hips snapping up into yours, his cock stretching out your walls each time. 

Jungkook’s fingers toyed with your throbbing clit, “Thats it, moan, let them know who’s taking care of this pretty pussy, who’s filling you up with cock right now,” His hips drilling into you as he watched his cock snap in and out of your cunt each time, “Look, watch.” He growled in your ear. 

Your eyes opened as you moaned, your cunt puffy and wet, stretching for him with more ease now than before, Jungkook’s hips slowed down, “You like watching yourself get fucked?” 

Your throat felt dry and your body hot as his hips sensually moved, slower, deeper, making sure you felt every thrust of his hips as his cock buried deep in your cunt, “Answer.” 

“Yes,” You stammered, whining a little at his cock burying inside you once more but this time not pulling out immediately after, “Like watching.” You whined quietly. 

Jungkook had a wicked grin on his lips, “You like it? Being fucked by the wicked prince?” His thrusts were short, keeping his cock as deep inside you as he could, your walls clenched at the short snapped sensation, “Like it when I cum deep inside this pretty virgin cunt of yours?”

Pleasure was building rapidly in your body, your walls squeezing tightly around him each time, watching his long thick fingers rub into your clit, finding that sweet little spot that had you gasping a whine.

“Yes, yeah, fuck, mmm! Fuck Koo, gonna…!” Your body was contorting as his cock pushed all the way inside you once more.

“I remember that little mouth of yours our wedding night, remember wanting nothing more then to bend you over and stuff you full of cock,” Jungkook moaned, hips becoming sloppy, thrusts uneven, some slow, some rough, “Fuck you so hard all you’d be able to do was thank me. But look at you now.” 

Jungkook smiled against your shoulder, “My pretty wife letting me fuck her tiny little cunt, letting me ruin the little virgin dryad princess. Fuck yeah, that’s it, cum all over it my love. Cum all over this cock.”

You were moaning so loud, surely people out in the halls could hear, and it only turned Jungkook on further, his cock buried inside you with the need to make sure you kept moaning, needing others to hear, to know that you were his. 

His thrusts were short, keeping buried deep in your cunt as his fingers kept rubbing into the sweet spot of your clit, your walls rapidly clenching around his base as he buried into you once more before you came. 

Jungkook let out a loud moan as your walls squeezed him so tight he was unable to thrust, pleasure was contorting in every part of your body as you came all over his cock just as he wanted, your clit throbbing in pleasure as Jungkook tenderly rubbed into it, milking every last bit of pleasure he could.

“God I love the way your cunt wraps around me,” He murmured, eyes tightly shut at the sensation, what he had dreamed of for so long now, the feeling of your cunt squeezing tight around him, begging to be filled with his cum. 

The feeling was still foreign, having something warm and slightly sting as it roped inside you, his hands squeezing your thighs tight as he came, moaning softly in your shoulder, you both were heaving breathes.

Jungkook pressed a flutter of light kisses against your neck, fingers tracing your thighs, is fingerprints still prominent in them, “So that’s what you meant…” 

“Hm?” Jungkook hummed out, nose nudging your neck in a loving manner, his fingers tracing over the skin that was slowly discoloring. 

“You…once told me bruising could be attractive, is this what you meant?” You whispered, voice raspy a little humored. 

You could feel the tiny smile on your neck, “Maybe. Maybe not, do you find it attractive?” 

“Do you?” 

Jungkook’s fingers continued to trace over the marks, “When they’re mine,” He pressed a kiss against the shell of your ear, “They’re the most attractive.”

You had gotten distracted though, his cock slipping out of you and cum oozing from your entrance you squirmed in discomfort, your face felt warm at the lewd sight.

“Mmm, that’s even more attractive though,” Jungkook moaned softly, his index finger scooping it back up before pushing it back in making you squirm.

“Jungkook…!” You whined out, immediately closing your legs.

He chuckled as he pressed a kiss against your head, “Let me grab a washcloth and get you cleaned up.” 

Jungkook shuffled you out of his lap before standing up with a groan, grabbing his undershort that had never gotten worn last night as he put them on, grabbing a washcloth from the stool, walking back over to bed where you had shuffled, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed as you sat naked on his bed.

It didn’t matter if you both had just finished laying together and his cum dripped between your thighs. 

Jungkook looked down at you for a long moment before a smile curled on his lips, “Are you going to let me see?”

“I…can clean myself.” You replied flustered, unable to look at those pretty blue eyes of his. 

“What kind of partner would I be if I made you do that?” Jungkook snorted, grabbing your legs as he pulled you closer, it made you squeak now at the edge of the bed.

You thighs parting only a little for him, but he had quickly made it more as he pulled them further apart, his tongue grazing his lips at the sight before the warm wet cloth dragged over your thighs, his hands were attentive and gentle as he cleaned you up. 

Jungkook had gotten himself halfway dressed and had just gotten your slip on just in time for the timely knock on the door, Taehyun’s voice on the otherside.

Jungkook had allowed him to come in, bowing to you both before going to Jungkook’s wardrobe, “Would you like for me to send for a maid to help the Princess?” Taehyun asked, you could tell he had to have known something was up but obviously not about to ask. 

“No,” Jungkook replied, leaving your side as he walked over to Taehyun, “I’ll help her get ready for the day.” 

Taehyun said nothing more aside from going over the duties Jungkook would need to attend today as he got him dressed, you had fidgeted in bed, eyes glancing at the window as light began to filter in, brighter than usual. 

You would be expected to carry out your duties today as well, the rebuilding of the market had slowed down since winter had approached and Jeong Dae had warned you the building would be very slow in the winter, but to be patient. 

You also had to meet with a few noble houses today to discuss resources once more, just the idea exhausted you. It had been nearly a week since the incident and yet it felt as though a day hadn’t past. 

You hadn’t even noticed when the door had been shut. 

“You’re in your head again.” Jungkook frowned, staring down at you, fully dressed in black today.

“So much has happened since we married,” You frowned as you looked at the window once more, “It’s difficult to not these days.” 

You parted your lips but no words came, uncertain of how to express your feelings, Jungkook patiently waited as he turned away from you walking to your wardrobe, most of your clothes had been taken out, but evidently he had somehow managed to keep most of your winter wardrobe here. 

“I knew it would be difficult, when we married and I would move here, leaving my land behind. I had two years of mental preparation for what may happen,” You sighed softly as you glanced at your hands, flipping them over to look at your discolored palms, “I had mainly prepared myself to be killed here. And yet…somehow, it never occured to me that living might possibly be worse. That living and yet, unable to recognize myself, would be a thousand times worse than death.”

You felt alienated from yourself, perhaps deep down you always knew you were capable of murder, the rage so deep in your bones that certainly it would strike a god down, but to have done it? 

To go against everything your nation stood for? The oath you had so proudly taken as a little girl, your mothers eyes beaming down at you with pride. 

Jungkook set the material out on the bed he had gathered before kneeling down in front of you, gently taking your hands in his, “Or perhaps this is just another side of you, something different, something new, change is uncomfortable. Growth is painful. I remember my first time…” 

Your eyes slowly moved, meeting his as he frowned, “I was nothing more than a child, holding a sword too big, he was a grown man. It was one of our drill sergeants in training, he had despised the Jeon name and had taken to treating me as nothing more then dirt beneath his boots.”

Jungkook sighed, “He had been ruthlessly sparring with me, going as far as kicking me into the ground well past my attempt of surrender. And then he stopped, and just stared at him before laughing, saying I was pathetic, that I’d never live a day in battle. And like that he just turned his back and walked away.” 

Jungkook’s eyes dropped, “I don’t even know what possessed me, but he kept laughing as he called out to his little friend that he was done with the Jeon Scum, suddenly I had unsheathed the dagger in my hand and ran at him.” 

“And?” You whispered out.

Jungkook shrugged, “I don’t remember much of it anymore, I’ve been told I stabbed him over fourteen times though, I was covered in blood by the end of it and I only remember crying in the bathtub while washing myself.” 

Your heart painfully squeezed for him, he couldn’t have been older than ten? Nobody would ever be fit to kill, let alone a child, “Were there consequences?” 

Jungkook shook his head, “Areum had given me a light slap on the wrist, extra watch duty, less rations, things of that nature. But being the prince gave me certain privilege,” He a bitter smile grew on his face, “I think that was the first time my father ever told me he was proud of me. Said I had great promise on the battlefield and that I was meant to rule.” 

“You say it with such disdain.” You frowned. 

Jungkook sighed as he stood up, grabbing the dress he had picked out for you, a purple dress with long thick velvet sleeves, the material was sheer and thin but he had grabbed a thick under slip to pair with it. 

Jungkook pulled the slip over your head, “Do you want my honest words on it?” 

“Of course I do.” You whispered out, eyes meeting his as he pulled the material down. 

“I’ve never had the desire to rule,” Jungkook said it no more than a whisper, “I don’t want the crown, I don’t want to be king.” He ushered it as if it was a crime, but suddenly he looked a little relieved as if this was the first he had ever voiced it, “I don’t want those responsibilities that come with it…”

Jungkook held your dress in his hands as his brows furrowed, “...I don’t want to be like my father.”

He spoke it as if that was the underlying reason, you stood up in front of him before wrapping your arms around his waist to hug him, “You’re nothing like him.” You whispered out, his hands wrapping around you as he squeezed you tight, nose burying in your hair. 

Jungkook broke away only a little as his forehead pressed against yours, “But then I think about you, crown on top of your head, the way you visit the outer districts, redistribute what's left that the royals waste, how you sacrificed something so sacred to you…” His hand grabbed your own, pulling it towards his lips as he pressed a kiss against your palm, “And I think about how you were made to be a queen, and if I were to rule by your side…then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.” 

“Truthfully?” You whispered back, looking up at him with a soft smile, “It doesn’t matter to me, as long as I’m with you.”

Jungkook only smiled, fingers tracing your neck as he gave a flutter of kisses to the palm of your hand before he let go of you, grabbing the gown as he helped you change, tentatively lacing the back of your dress before turning you around. 

A sort of satisfied look on his face as if he had made the right choice, “Leave your hair down today, it looks nice like this.” 

“Jungkook…” You gave him a look, you felt incomplete if you didn’t have your hair braided or styled at all. 

“Indulge me today.” Jungkook replied with a sort of saccharine dripping off his tongue you had never heard before, pulling the velvet gloves over your hands.

You hated how much he had so easily convinced you as you sighed, shaking your head, “Very well, anything else.” 

He nodded walking to your jewelry box once more, “I didn’t say anything, but it didn’t mean that I didn’t notice.” Jungkook walked back over to you, gently grabbing your left hand lifting it up as he held out the large black ring, your wedding ring, “Wear it with pride.” 

Jungkook slid it on your ring finger making you smile as you glanced down at it, you had worn it a few times in the past, but it felt different letting him put it on you.

Your lips slowly fell though, “...I’m not ready for today.” You whispered out, Jungkook had been completely taken you away from your sickening thoughts for the last twelve hours, and soon you would have to return to reality. 

Jungkook frowned as his fingers traced along your neck, “It’ll be over soon my love.” He ushered quietly before leaning in, pressing a chaste kiss against your lips, your eyes closing as you leaned into his warm touch, fingers curling around your throat as you let out the softest moan. 

Jungkook refused to let this go further though, letting his hand drop as he broke the kiss, “If the day gets hard, you know where to find me.” 

Your day had become tones of gray, monotonous without having even realized it, your mind was elsewhere and nobles had looked at you with mixed reactions, some in fear, some in disgust. After all, they had all seen you, seen what you had done, what you were capable of.

You had been hold up in the library the last hour and a half though, reading up on some of the policies for building that had a headache beginning to turn up in your head.

Flipping the page you had went to drink your tea only to find it ice cold, the fire crackled at the far end of the library, but here in the nook you had found it towards the window was cold. 

Time had passed more than you had realized when you found your husband standing at the front of the table, looking at you expectantly. 

You glanced up from your book, “Are you finished with your duties already?” He usually worked later than this.

Jungkook’s nose wrinkled, “I’ve been done for over an hour, it’s nearing seven Y/n.” 

Your eyes widened as you glanced out the window, realizing it was dark outside before you looked back at him, “I’m sorry I didn’t even realize…”

Jungkook rounded the table, fingers dragging to your book before shutting it, “Enough of burying yourself in work.”

You frowned before you glanced up at him, “Do you have something in mind for us then?”

“Dinner,” Jungkook replied with a tilt of his head, “But first come, we should check on Fenrir and…you’ll enjoy the walk.” 

You took the hand he offered you before hooking onto his arm as you both walked down the hall, it was a quiet night but the glances maids and nobles alike didn’t surpass you, the looks never went away. 

You tried your best to ignore them as you entered to the courtyard, lips parting as you both stepped out.

Large fluffy snowflakes fell from the sky, almost shimmering against firelight as they softly landed on the ground, small piles of powder already forming as you looked around, enchanted at the sight, “It’s snowing…!” Your lips twisted into a smile, “I’ve never seen snowflakes so large…” 

Jungkook’s eyes softened on you as he smiled, “I figured so, it’s our first of many snowfall to come this winter. I thought you might like to see it.” 

Jungkook had led you down to the stables but your eyes were still captivated by the sky, filled with little white puffs that gracefully landed onto the ground, a loud whine however brought you back as you frowned. 

“Oh my sweet boy,” You ushered out softly at the sight of seeing Fenrir limp towards you, large tail wagging behind him as you reached out for his face, tenderly rubbing his snout before planting a kiss atop his head, “I’m sorry I haven’t visited you today.” 

“I saw him this morning, I let him loose while watching the guards spar,” Jungkook said, “He’s healing, by the time we travel for Yule he’ll be good as new.” 

He reached out, giving a firm pat to Fenrir’s side, “We’ll be taking him with us?” You glanced back at him in surprise. 

“Wolves will be roaming for food no doubt by the time we leave, it would be most safe to have him with us to scare off any predators.” Jungkook replied with a nod, “...He’s also bound to you, the grief he’d give royal staff would be something I’d never hear the end of from my father.” 

You gave him a guilty smile, “I wouldn’t want to part with him either.” Fenrir had managed to lick your face causing a quiet giggle to escape you as you leaned away from him, lovingly stroking his neck. 

You had gone inside his pen to straighten out his blankets and to pull out one more thicker one, now that it was snowing you were certain the winter nights would be long and cold, you truly did wish the castle would let him stay inside. 

After spending a few minutes with Fenrir you let out a soft sigh, wishing to not have to depart from him so soon, but your duties had kept you all day, and tomorrow would most likely not be much better. 

Fenrir as if sensing this let out a whine, his ears flattening against his head and his tail fell, “Don’t look like that,” You whispered out, your heart aching for him as you rubbed his ears, “I’ll be back tomorrow, and maybe Jungkook will let you out again.”

“We’ll see,” Jungkook replied neutral, “Inside Fenrir.” 

It was a soft command the Fenrir hesitated to listen too, “Inside.” Jungkook repeated more firm making the wolf whine once more as he went back into his pen, making circles before he laid down, another high pitched whine escaping him. 

“I’ll be back soon.” You whispered before kissing his head once more, closing his gate as you tried to not let his whines make you sad. 

Jungkook had extended his elbow out to you once more as you took it, sighing with a frown as you gave the pen one last look, “It’s only a day, he’ll survive.” 

“I still don’t know why we can’t keep him in the castle…” Your words trailed off at the sight ahead. 

A silvery cloaked figured and…Wheein, bundled up in a green cloak, cheeks rosy pink from the chill as you both paused, it hadn’t been fair that you hadn’t even gotten to see her since she had been trialed. 

You had immediately left Jungkook’s side, “Wheein!” 

Tears filling your eyes as she met you halfway, “Y/n! I’m so, so incredibly sorry!” She whispered out as you both embraced, tears of joy, tears of relief, you weren’t sure, but seeing her in person, being able to tightly hug her. 

It had all suddenly rushed in your mind, that what you had committed, why you had done it, it wasn’t just for your own survival, but it was for the survival of someone else, your arms squeezed around her. 

You broke away from her, grabbing her hands in our own as you both looked at one another, Wheein immediately noticing your tiredness, “Are you okay?” She whispered out. 

“You were nearly executed, I should be asking you that.” You frowned. 

“But you…” Wheein couldn’t bring herself to say the words, the silence loud as you looked away from her. 

Your eyes dropped down to her own gloved hands before finally back at her, “You are alive, and so am I. I will be okay…with time.” 

“You should be at home resting with your family Wheein.” Jungkook had decided to step into the conversation, words softly reprimanding.

“I couldn’t stay away any longer, not after everything that has happened. I owe you both my life, and I wanted to give my thanks for all you have done for me. As well as…” Wheein frowned disapprovingly as she turned to the cloaked figure.

Taehyung. 

“I’ve heard about the ill-spoken words.” Wheein stared him down as she let go of her hands, taking a few steps back as she gestured the man over. 

Taehyung frowned, scratching his cheek as he shuffled in front of you, “What I accused you of Princess…I cannot take back my words, but all I can do is ask for your forgiveness.” 

You gaped as he dropped to one knee, bowing his head, “I spoke without thinking and let my emotions get the better of me.” 

“Taehyung…” You whispered softly, true his words had wounded you but you couldn’t entirely blame him, you had no idea what would do if Jungkook was in such a similar situation, “While your words hurt, being upset like that is understandable. We were all afraid of what would happen, I would never hold it against you.”

“Stand up Taehyung,” Jungkook spoke, his eyes not quite as kind as yours but it seemed he had a similar line of thought, “While your words were border treason…” He trailed off, glancing down at you briefly, “If the love of my life was also on death's doors, there’s no telling the hell I would raise. 

“Love of your life?” Wheein squeaked out, clearly embarrassed at the comparison, but it made a soft smile tug on your lips.

Taehyung bowed at this, “I won’t speak out of line again. I still hope to one day serve as your hand Your Highness.” 

Jungkook snorted, “We’ll see about that. Now you need to escort Wheein back-”

“With all do respect,” Wheein spoke up, a small shy smile on her face, “I would like to return from my leave early, I would like nothing more then to be back in service to the Princess once more.” 

Jungkook frowned disapprovingly but you had spoke before he did, “You are always welcomed to return Wheein, your company would be a light that I need right now.”

Jungkook sighed, “Very well, then return to your quarters for the night,” He began walking, pulling you along with him, “And we’ll see you in the morning.”

Snow fell quietly and you could hear the owls trill out, your heart feeling just a little more light, the road ahead would be only just as treacherous, but with Jungkook by your side, and the friends you had made. 

You could only hope it would be enough. 

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [1]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Teaser | Fic Masterlist | Part 2

Park Seonghwa.

As pretty as it may sound, that name was known across the nation as the intimidating military general trusted by His Majesty, the King, to lead the royal army.

For those who have not had the privilege of encountering him in person, the assumption might be of a rugged and perhaps middle-aged individual, given his extensive experience on the battlefield and high military rank. And those who have met him will know that his beauty was just as deadly.

But there's more to it – his renown extends beyond the confines of martial prowess. The general has garnered a reputation for scaring away all potential marriage candidates. His cold nature isn't limited to the battlefield; it extends to his personal life, affecting even the people closest to him.

In essence, Seonghwa was not a figure most people would look forward to meeting at all. If anything, most tended to avoid him like the plague. His name alone was enough to instil terror, be it in enemies, common folk, or even nobles.

But he was more than fine with it.

The general took pleasure in the fear that gripped anyone crossing his path. He had no interest in being loved or admired. The bloodshed inherent in his job brought him ample satisfaction, and the accompanying title and wealth were merely added perks.

One thing that irked him more than anything else was the King's relentless insistence that he should marry.

You see, he lacked the capacity for love, having grown up devoid of any such affection. All he cared for was his own survival. He understood, more than anyone, that trust was a rare commodity on this earth. Those close to him always harboured their own motives. The concept of genuine love or care was as good as non-existent in his dictionary.

His parents, if they could even be called that, abandoned him by a dumpster outside an orphanage. Born prematurely and deemed likely to die soon, they left him for dead. However, his determination to survive surpassed all expectations. He fought through the years and emerged as the person he is today.

Seonghwa's entire childhood was marked by brawls fighting for survival and to earn a living. But then fate took a turn when a perceptive military soldier scouted him, recognising the untapped potential within.

Rising from the bottom, his borderline cold-blooded character propelled him swiftly up the ranks, achieving remarkable progress within just a couple of years. His notoriety soon echoed in the ears of the King, and almost in the blink of an eye, he ascended to become one of the youngest generals in history.

And that was how he learned, through the hard way, that one would have to be useful in order to be valued. He has seen enough to understand it was a dog-eat-dog world.

The King favoured him solely for his skills, his servants stuck around for the generous pay, and every potential spouse presented to him was merely interested in his wealth or title.

This time would be no different.

"Seonghwa-yah, you're not young anymore, my boy. It's time for you to get married and have a few kids. Otherwise, who would succeed you? It would be such a shame for your bloodline to die with you." His Majesty said, a concerned frown creasing his wrinkled forehead.

The general lowered his head to conceal the smirk on his face. See? That's exactly what he meant. One would be foolish to believe that the King genuinely wanted the best for him; all the old man cared about was ensuring the continuation of his legacy.

Before Seonghwa could present another argument, as he always did, the King raised a hand to halt him, "That's enough; you have rejected all my previous proposed matches and deliberately scared off some of your betrothed as well. I may have been too lenient with you. This time, you will get married, and that's final."

He gripped the hilt of his sword in frustration, "But, your Majesty—"

The King shook his head, "Seonghwa, you will be stripped of your title if you do not cooperate."

That was enough to silence him.

He had worked tirelessly to reach his current position; it would be stupid to jeopardise it all over a refusal to marry. The whole idea seemed utterly outrageous; the old man must be senile to be threatening him over something so trivial.

But what choice did he have?

None.

"Fine, as you wish." The general sighed.

His Majesty's demeanour swiftly changed, breaking into laughter and applause, "Oh, that's wonderful! We already have a perfect candidate for you anyway. The Minister of Military Affairs has offered his eldest daughter's hand. I'm sure she would make a lovely wife for you."

"Has he now? How thoughtful of him."

Seonghwa wasn't stupid; he recognised that the minister harboured resentment regarding his recent ascent in the ranks. The old fool was undoubtedly anxious about preserving his own position and was actively exploring ways to subdue the younger man's progress, going to great lengths just to keep the general from outranking him.

As the assembly with the King concluded that day, Minister Jang was quick to intercept Seonghwa before he could exit the palace, "General Park, I eagerly anticipate our forthcoming union. I assure you, my eldest is a gem; you'll come to adore her." The elder man remarked smugly.

"Oh, I'm sure I will." He sneered, shrugging off the minister's hand before storming off.

Arriving at his estate, a servant approached the general with a tray of tea, "Welcome home, master," Having suppressed his anger for too long, he couldn't hold back any longer. He smacked the tray out of the poor woman's hands, growling, "Get out of my goddamned sight this instant." She bowed repeatedly, apologising profusely as she picked up the tray and the broken cup before scurrying away.

He slammed the door to his study open, nearly scaring the living daylights out of his only trusted aide, Jongho, "S-sir, is everything alright?" The assistant asked tentatively.

Seonghwa grumbled as he kicked his desk aside to sit in his chair, "The King demanded that I get married and even threatened to strip me of my title if I refused. I need you to dig up some information on Minister Jang's family; that man is up to something."

Jongho bowed once and rushed off to do as he was told, "Will do, sir."

Glaring at his desk, he clenched his fists at the thought of his future wife. Considering her hateful father, she likely resembled him. After all, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. He was more than ready to face the likes of her, having successfully scared off a few spoiled brats before.

More unbearable to him than the King's incessant pressure for him to marry was the presence of irritating little pests, manifested in the form of noblewomen from wealthy families—the entitled sort who believed they were superior to everyone else.

All the encounters he had experienced so far were with that particular breed. If given the chance, he would gladly eradicate every single one of those seemingly useless, good-for-nothing individuals. Without a doubt, his wife-to-be would be another one of those insufferable girls.

Be prepared, wife. Life is about to become quite exhilarating for you.

"Gather around, kids. I have news!" Your father announced as he entered the family estate, cheerfully wrapping his arm around his second wife, your stepmother.

"What's going on, father?" Jinah asked, eagerly joining her two sisters, Jinhee and Jinjoo.

The man let out a tired sigh when he realised you were nowhere in sight, "Where is she?"

Jinhee scoffed, "You mean unnie? In her cage, of course. This is a family meeting; why would we need her around?"

The minister directed a nearby servant, "Fetch her to the main hall; I have an announcement to make." The three sisters and their mother exchanged intrigued glances, wondering what this unexpected proclamation could entail.

Staring numbly out of your tiny room window, you ponder the meaning of life. What was the point of being born if every member of your own family shunned you? To be fair, only your father is family; your stepmother and stepsisters are mere outsiders. Yet, even he hasn't bothered to treat you as such.

Your mother might have been the sole person to ever love you, but you couldn't possibly be sure. Unfortunately, she hadn't been alive long enough for you to remember much about her.

Could she have had any love for you, even when she herself lacked affection from her own husband?

That, you'll never know the answer to.

You've heard that your father had no choice but to marry your mother for political reasons and that your stepmother had been his mistress at the time. When your mother finally fell sick and died, he seized the opportunity to marry the harlot and take in all three of her bastard daughters.

Life has been nothing but hell ever since.

No one has treated you like a lady from a noble house; not even the servants were allowed to do so.

All you could remember was pain.

Endless pain all throughout your childhood.

In fact, the pain still persisted until this day, you felt it acutely in the numerous spots on your body, each a testament to the beatings you endured regularly as punishment. And those punishments were often for things you didn't do—blatant lies told by your stepsisters that your father used as an excuse to unleash his wrath.

Excluded from all family activities, even meals, you survived on leftovers and were confined to your quarters with nothing to occupy your time. It felt as if you were treated worse than the estate's servants, receiving only enough sustenance to keep you alive. You were more like a punching bag, there solely for their tormenting pleasure.

No one would acknowledge you in this household. You were as good as dead until one of your family members wished to have some fun, your misery providing the best entertainment.

So, imagine your surprise when you were summoned to the main hall for an announcement. Why does your presence suddenly matter? The curiosity gnaws at you as you reluctantly make your way to the gathering, wondering what twist of fate awaits you this time.

Cowering shamefully, you faced the evident disgust in your stepmother's and stepsisters' eyes as they took in your shabby appearance.

You struggled to figure out where to sit.

Approaching the only available seat next to the youngest, Jinjoo, you trudged over timidly, only for her to intentionally spill her cup of tea on the chair, "Oops! My bad, unnie. I guess you'll have no choice but to stand." You wished the ground would swallow you as everyone around snickered into their fists.

You looked over to your father, hoping he might stand up for you, only for your heart to sink in disappointment as usual when he averted his gaze with a clear of his throat, "Alright, now that you're all here, I have news to share." He announced, leaving you standing awkwardly in the corner, unnoticed and unwanted.

"Something interesting happened at the assembly with His Majesty this morning," Your father announced, capturing everyone's attention. All eyes were on him, eagerly awaiting the big revelation of this announcement, "The King has pressured General Park to marry once again, and this time, he was serious."

You noticed the expressions of your stepsisters turning fearful at the mere mention of the famous general.

"I figured it would be good to establish a connection with the general, considering his powerful standing in the military. So, I offered my daughter's hand to him in marriage."

Your stepsisters all gasped simultaneously.

"Father! How could you do such a thing to us?! Haven't you heard? That general is a monster! He scared off all of his previous fiancées. Do you have any clue how he'll treat us?" Jinah screeched tearfully.

But her mother calmed her with a sly smile, "Oh, you silly girls, why did you think your elder sister is here for?"

Oh.

Remaining rooted to the spot, you took in the shocking news. Your supposed family cheered at the announcement, their excitement palpable.

"Oh, unnie! You're finally making yourself useful for once!" Jinhee laughed, and your father nodded, a smirk playing on his lips, "That's right, my dear. You've always struggled to find a purpose in life, haven't you? Perhaps you'll grow to love your new life with General Park. I'm sure he'll take good care of you."

Everything turned into a blur as they celebrated what felt like your demise. Dismissed to your quarters, you retreated, letting the weight of the information sink in.

You had heard of General Park; how could you not? He was only the most feared person in the entire country.

Perhaps, in a twisted way, that could be a good thing. If he were to end your miserable life once and for all, it might be a mercy for you too.

After all, you had had enough of this life.

On the day you were set to marry Park Seonghwa, you were puzzled to find a group of servants sent to your quarters, armed with some of the finest clothes you'd ever seen, "What is this?" You questioned, eyeing the luxurious garments with scepticism.

The head of the maids sighed, "Young miss, you are marrying as the eldest daughter of Minister Jang. Surely, you have to at least look the part, yes?"

Oh.

That made sense.

Of course, it was all to make your father look good. Who would care about you?

Resigned, you sat like a doll as they worked on enhancing your appearance, transforming you into a vision of refinement. You observed their extra effort to conceal the remnants of bruises and scars from years of torture.

"All done." The head maid declared as they turned you around to face the mirror. As your eyes met your reflection, you failed to recognise the person staring back at you. You hadn't known you were capable of looking... what do they call it? Beautiful?

But this was only temporary.

You couldn't possibly fool the general forever with makeup. Sooner or later, he would see just how ugly and broken you were underneath all these artificial lies. And he, too, will be just as disgusted as everyone else. When that happens, you are mentally prepared for all the possible outcomes.

How much worse could it get?

After all, you had already endured a lifetime of hell. Surely, the torment couldn't be as severe as what you had experienced all these years... right?

One of the elderly servants, always watching you from a distance with pity in her eyes, approached you as the others dispersed. Her frail but warm hand landed on your shoulder as you met her gaze through the mirror.

With a kind smile, she nodded encouragingly, "I hope you find happiness out there, young miss." You didn't know why your eyes grew wet at those words as you watched her leave with the rest. The unexpected warmth in her gesture lingered, and for a moment, a spark of hope ignited within you.

Happiness?

You weren't sure you even knew what that word meant, but perhaps you'll learn the meaning of it outside of these walls. These walls that felt so much like prison all these years, it's almost funny how it was supposed to be your home.

Truthfully, you didn't think you'd ever live to see the day you would be allowed to leave this wretched place. Caged in here all your life, does anyone even know of your existence?

Perhaps not.

Well, now they might.

Heading to the entrance of the Jang estate, you carried little belongings, close to none.

Your family stood around, excited to see you off. The devious smirks on your stepsisters' faces faltered slightly at your transformed appearance before they scoffed, "Who would've thought? Guess you could actually fool someone looking like that. Just wait till he realises how useless you actually are." Jinhee sneered.

But Jinjoo snickered, "Oh, I'm sure she'll be useful in certain ways."

Jinah burst into laughter at the implication, "Oh yes! Give us plenty of nieces and nephews to play with, yeah?"

Your face burned with humiliation as they made fun of you, as they always did, "That is if she's strong enough to survive him in the first place." Your stepmother muttered, chuckling slyly.

Your father took a step toward you, "There's no time to waste; now get going. Don't you dare make me look bad."

You bowed before turning to leave, but a surge of courage prompted you to look back at your father one last time, croaking, "Father... have you truly never cared for me at all? For my happiness?"

He clenched his jaw, his response cutting, "Don't make me laugh; you and that mother of yours have only ever been a pain to me."

That hurt.

Why did it hurt?

It wasn't news to you. But still, it hurt.

"You want happiness? Find it with him then."

« Preview of Part 2 »

The night before the wedding, Seonghwa lifted his gaze from his scrolls to find his aide arriving slightly out of breath, "Have you found anything, Jongho?"

The assistant nodded after bowing, "Not much on the rest of the family; everything about them is just as known by the public. However, I did uncover more information about the eldest daughter, your bride."

The general straightened in his seat, "What about her?"

With a frown, Jongho continued, "It seems not much is known about her, despite being the eldest. She's the only daughter of Minister Jang's first wife, and no one has seen her set foot out of the estate since her mother's passing. Most sources claim her to be a mystery."

Seonghwa smirked, leaning back in his chair, "She must be quite precious for her father to keep her hidden all these years. Oh, I'll treat her well, all right. Get the head maid to prepare her quarters."

Jongho nodded curtly, feeling a chill run down his spine as he witnessed the sarcastic grin on his master's face.

"Only the best for future Lady Park."

I just want to emphasise that this is NOT a sequel/prequel or extension to Seonghwa's part from my 'Crazy Form' Comeback Special Series. This is a completely different story taking place in an entirely different universe.

Also, while this may be in the Joseon era, I do apologise if some of the details may not be historically accurate. After all, this is only a work of fiction, so please enjoy!

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts, feedback or reviews! I love hearing all about it! <3

Tag list: @aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo @sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @thunderous-wolf @itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @deltamoon666 @avantalem @famishalll @yungilia @soobiverse @joongified

All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[shibaraki]

❄︎ ─ END OF YEAR REC REPORT: THE READER INSERT EDITION

hi lovelies!! as the year is coming to an end I wanted to work with my followers to compile a rec list of fics that have stuck with us as one massive thank you to all of the writers in our corner of tumblr/AO3. below you will find x reader fics from multiple different fandoms, and everything is in alphabetical order. I am grateful to all of you for the amazing work you do, and to those who participated!

extra note: I read through and tried my best to make sure everything is appropriately tagged (reader type and blushes included) but do let me know if anything needs amending—or if you are on this list and wish to be taken off it. happy reading and happy new year! (and thank you to @namodawrites for helping with the banners ily)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ─ ❄︎

fics: 100 fandoms: 23 total word count: 💀

an observer of longing by shibaraki [ONESHOT] [18K] #: afab reader - childhood best friends to lovers - romantic and sexual tension - mutual pining - casual physical affection - love confession - eventual sexual content

Could Hajime really return your feelings? Tooru certainly thinks so. And Issei, and Takahiro. Seemingly everyone that has been within twenty feet of you.

I wanna be yours by gabseyoo [ONESHOT] [5.9K] #: fem reader - recreational drug use - stoner suna rintaro - friends to lovers - shotgunning - smut - face riding - unprotected sex - sex under the influence

Your usual smoking date with your best friend takes an unexpected turn after a certain song starts playing.

in orbit by neonghxst [MULTI-CHAP] [27K] #: fem reader - slow burn - fluff - angst - enemies to friends to lovers - childhood friends - breaking up/making up

You tend to have a habit of coming and going, life sending you away at odd intervals and guiding you back into his path without warning. Akin to two planets caught in each other’s orbits, you pushed and pulled in a never-ending cycle. But if there was one thing Atsumu was certain of, it was that you would always find your way back to him (and this time, he’s determined to make you stay).

lover be good to me by suguwu [MULTI-CHAP] [30K] #: fem reader - soulmate au - slow burn - hurt/comfort - partner death (not kita shinsuke)

You meet Kita Shinsuke on a rainy summer day, with a sea of hydrangeas swirling at your feet. You know him instantly, as only a soulmate can. He seems like a good man. Like a good soulmate. But it's your wedding day.

miya atsumu and the chronic lovesick disease by fushisagi [ONESHOT] [12.6K] #: gender neutral reader - university au - fluff - friends to lovers - denial of feelings - mutual pining

The question comes to him one autumn night, surrounded by his friends and the chilly november breeze, asked by, who he assumes to be, just another nobody looking for money: what is it that you desire most, boy? the psychic asks, her saccharine smile forgotten when he looks into the crystal ball and all he ends up seeing is you. Alternatively: Miya Atsumu is not in love. what the hell? who would ever suggest something like that?

monster by satendou [SERIES: ONGOING] [13K] #: fem reader - unprotected sex - creampie - vaginal fingering - mentions of bullying - insecurities - described as blushing

You like horror movies, Tendou likes horror movies, what could go wrong?

storm chaser by amjustagirl [MULTI-CHAP] [163K] #: fem reader - post canon - domestic fluff - friends to lovers - romance - marriage - parenthood - angst

Living life with Miya Atsumu is like chasing a storm - equal parts exhilaration and danger. After all, it’s impossible to tame a storm.

the burden of being by sashimiyas [ONESHOT] [22K] #: fem reader - angst - fluff - amnesia - pro volleyball player osamu - unhealthy coping mechanisms

There was an Osamu who loved you once. Who loved Onigiri Miya so much he spent most of his waking hours there, supported loyally by the members of Hyogo Ward. A fire changes that and he and his twin brother adopt their old high school motto: we don’t need the memories. Now they’re gone and memories are all you have. So as an homage to the man you love, you reopen his restaurant back up for him.

the inbetween by oh-katsuki [ONESHOT] [25K] #: fem reader - manga spoilers - childhood friends to lovers - slow burn - angst - sexual content

You and Tendou have been best friends since before you can remember. You share everything with each other and over the years have fallen into a friendship with clear boundaries but intimate values. When you start to notice Tendou growing more distant, you begin to worry that he’s keeping more secrets than you thought. 

there are reasons why a body stays in motion by gardenofnoah [ONESHOT] [4.7K] #: afab reader - strangers to lovers - fluff - eventual sexual content

You work too hard—kita knows it the second he meets you. He’s not expecting you to take him up on his offer. You don’t either, until you end up on his farm.

the blood of the witch is not ours by demxnscous [ONESHOT] [11K] #: afab reader - vampire miya osamu - strangers to friends to lovers - modern setting with a hidden supernatural world - blood and injury - eventual sexual content

The door opens. Osamu whines pitifully, a shallow breath that scarcely pulls at the lacerations along his body, blood of his own and of another creature matts his fur to his ribs, along his spine, and he lifts his head. “Oh, fuck.” From the threshold, your eyes widen, a stranger to the fox you find.

to: tokyo, love hyogo by akimind [ONESHOT] [15K] #: fem reader - described as blushing - reunions - angst - fluff - exes to lovers

Your mind wasn’t tricking you when it caught sight of this name from across the street you rarely frequent; it remains the same name even as you stand directly below now and reread that sign again. Onigiri Miya. …I’ll meet you in Hyogo. The same echo. The same memory.

roommate osamu kiss by shibaraki [DRABBLE] [0.6K] #: gender neutral reader - pre relationship - fluff - roommate miya osamu - sleepy kiss

Osamu likes to think that unlike Atsumu, he has some semblance of control over his impulses. it’s a fine art. When you softly touch his waist as you squeeze past, or dig your feet under his thigh on the couch, or lean into his side as you share the small bathroom, he can will his body still and maintain the equilibrium you’ve crafted together. But this morning he is frayed at the seams.

venus by saetyrn [ONESHOT] [15K] #: cisfem reader - mutual pining - alcohol consumption - friends to lovers - eventual sexual content - reader is inexperienced

After returning to Japan from studying abroad in California, Hajime’s found that his desire for you has only grown stronger in his year away. He hopes you feel the same, and see him as he sees you. What he doesn’t expect is for it all to go tits up when you ask him--your trusted friend--for help with losing your virginity.

wet haired kuroo by mrs-kurooo [DRABBLE] [0.8K] #: gender neutral reader - pre relationship - romantic tension

His hair lies flat, unlike the usual unruly, gravity-defying mess of black that sits on his head. It’s still a little damp, slowly drying in the warmth of your apartment, a lone droplet of water dripping from the ends and landing on his towel. It hangs in his eyes a little, more so than usual and the urge to run your fingers through it overwhelms you - it just looks so soft.

a duke's son and a baron's daughter by katsukikitten [ONESHOT] [14K] #: fem reader - victorian era au - arranged marriage - pining - slow burn - suggestive content - lord bakugo katsuki - lord todoroki shouto

The room ebbs in the low light of flickering candles, people gather in clusters like lost geese as they honk their gossip at one another causing you to sigh. It would be another long night of mental games as your cold eyes fail to warm from the eccentric sights. Silk dresses, long gloves, shimmering gems, and endless drink and food.  Yet you hated how little power you had over your choice of being here or not. 

a light that never comes by mighty-mighty-man [MULTI-CHAP: ONGOING] [430K] #: fem reader - enemies to friends to lovers - reader is an ex villain - worldbuilding - polotics - drama - eventual romance

After your life is saved by a quirkless middle-schooler, you find yourself roped back into the world of Heroism you've spent years trying to escape. Your mentor convinces you to take a job at U.A. that will bring you perilously close to your former best friend, Toshinori Yagi, who you have been avoiding since you mysteriously dropped out of high school in your third year. Being a Hero never gets any easier. And high school never ends.

all the times i told you by gardenofnoah [SERIES] [8K+] #: afab reader - estbalished relationship - fluff - intimacy - hurt/comfort - eventual sexual content

A sweet little multi-parter about being so in love it makes you sick, featuring Katsuki.

a withered rose by potionpeddlerpatchy [ONESHOT] [18K] #: fem reader - mythical au - reader is a nymph - god of sleep shinsou hitoshi - sexual content - dubious consent - somnophilia - manipulation

In the center of all the strange but wonderful opulence sat a giant glass orb propped so beautifully atop of a pillar, woven so intricately like vines, of tourmaline. You couldn’t help but approach it, the alluring purple aura seemed to call out to you, reaching your delicate hand before you, nothing else crossed your mind that your desire to touch the orb's smooth surface. “You’re a bold little one, aren’t you?” Hitoshi spoke, chuckling deeply as he took in your startled form. 

a world away by invie [MULTI-CHAP] [26K] #: fem reader - slow burn - timeskips - pro hero bakugo katsuki - parallel universes - dimension travel - feelings realisation - first meetings - fluff - angst - love confessions

He met you at 16 and hasn't known peace since then.

casual by ghostbeam [ONESHOT] [4K] #: fem reader - no quirk au - friends with benefits - friends to lovers - sexual content - todoroki family feels

“My mom wants to meet you.” It’s a sentence uttered as Touya pulls the T-shirt he’d discarded earlier (while he was pushing you toward your bed and sucking your tongue into his mouth) over his head. It comes as a shock, lying in your bed completely bare, still struggling to catch your breath. It shouldn’t make you feel excited in the way that it does, not when Touya has been more than clear about the nature of the relationship between the two of you. Nothing serious. No commitment.

cruise universe by bfbkg [SERIES] #: fem reader - cruise au - pro hero bakugo - developing relationship - strangers to lovers - fluff - alcohol consumption - eventual sexual content

Your cruise holiday with your friends has got some pretty views, your favourite being the grumpy pretty blonde.

deceiving the duke by andypantsx3 [MULTI-CHAP] [30K] #: fem reader - regency au - class differences - romance - identity porn - eventual sexual content

When Camie Utsushimi elopes on the eve of her society debut, scandal threatens to destroy the family’s prospects. It’s up to you, a maid, to impersonate Camie throughout the Season, long enough that her elder sister can make a match. The only trouble? Lord Shouto Todoroki is also intent on making a match—and that match, quite impossibly, appears to involve you.

fill my little world by shibaraki [ONESHOT] [20K] #: afab reader - no quirk au - single dad aizawa shouta - nanny reader - falling in love - eventual sexual content

You are employed by Aizawa Shouta to nanny for his vulnerable adoptive daughter Eri while he’s at work. As time passes you find yourself equally smitten with them both, longing for a more permanent place in their family.

heart of the ocean by secondhand_trash [TWOSHOT] [13K] #: fem reader - pirate au - inspired by princess bride - romance - pirate todoroki touya - angst with a happy ending - sexual content

You had met many sailors in your life growing up by the sea, but there was only one like him.

higher than the mountain, deeper than the sea by itoshisoup [MULTI-CHAP: ONGOING] [50K+] #: fem reader - psychological drama - childhood friends to lovers - stockholm syndrome - hurt/comfort - noncon elements

Touya watches you stare feebly out the window, your fingers curled around those useless flowers he bought, and he finally understands why his pathetic excuse of a father could never find the words to apologize to his mother.

I'll make this feel like home by missmeinyourbones [ONESHOT] [6K] #: afab reader - angst - canon compliant - hurt/comfort - dabi centric - todoroki family reveal - sexual content

Touya was eight years old when his youngest brother was born—the same age realized that his house no longer felt like home. 

incendiary by andypantsx3 [MULTI-CHAP] [30K] #: fem reader - enemies to lovers - quirkless discrimination - reader is a college student - romance- eventual sexual content

When you accidentally go viral in defense of quirkless people, an extremist group puts a target on your back. Pro hero Dynamight is the last person you want watching it.

in the dark of morning, you promise me the sun by kirketeer [MULTI-CHAP] [78K] #: fem reader - major character death - slow burn - grief and mourning - angst with a happy ending - eventual sexual content

When Denki, your long-term boyfriend, is stabbed by a villain on his way home from work, left to bleed out on the sidewalk only a mile from your apartment, you find yourself adrift. Strangely enough, it's Bakugou that helps with what comes after.

kingdom of ashes by shibaraki [TWOSHOT] [11K] #: fem reader - historical royalty au - prince todoroki touya - arranged marriage - sexual content - fluff - angst - hopeful ending

When you are suddenly uprooted from your life to enter an arranged marriage with Prince Touya you are unprepared for how greatly he defies your expectations, nor for how quickly you fall for him.

lights will guide you home by a11eya [MULTI-CHAP: ONGOING] [22K] #: gender neutral reader - soulmate au - trope inversion/subversion - slow burn - getting together - falling in love - eventual sexual content

Soul-lights aren’t as common in this day and age as they were in the past, before quirks, but they’re common enough that people do still find their soulmates. At thirteen, you meet Bakugou Katsuki, and he lights up for you in orange and gold. You tell him he's your soulmate. He sneers and tells you that you aren't his. He makes your adolescence miserable until you part ways. You meet again as adults, late at night, in a grocery store, over a pile of bok choy. He apologizes for how he treated you when you were children. (In which you have a choice—to reject Bakugou's apology, reject him, or to let him show you the man he's become, to learn with him what it means to love and forgive.)

one for the rules by alkhale [ONESHOT] [9K] #: fem reader - actor au - soulmates and identifying marks - romance - actor kita shinsuke - implied sexual content - reader described with long hair

“(Y/n)-san,” Kita whispers, low, just for you. Your eyes flicker nervously up to meet his, heart beating so wildly in your chest you feel like you’ll explode. Any minute now. There’ll be nothing left for him but little bits of nonsense. “I know I have no right to stop you… but please, if you’d be willing to wait, just a bit…” Kita pulls both your hands together now, away from both your shared marks. He holds them in both of his and he gazes at you the entire time, a man truly from another era, from a lost era of things so hopeless romantic and earnest you feel like there’s nothing you can do in the very face of it. Kita brings your hands up and he presses a kiss to your knuckles, peering up at you, eyes like honey, voice soft and warm and everywhere around you. “Would you give me the chance to show you my worth?” Kita asks. Ah, that’s it. Your heart really can’t take anymore.

passing peonies by dira333 [MULTI-CHAP] [34K] #: fem reader - recovery - mental health issues - returning to society - healing todoroki family - reader described to have a ponytail - angst

When the war ended, Midoriya Izuku had proven one thing: That Villains did not need to be killed to be defeated. That you could make friends from enemies. Touya Todoroki, formerly known as Dabi, had been one of those taken into the rehabilitation program. After one year of intense physical and psychological therapy, he's got the chance to prove himself. To prove that he can be a part of this world.

something just like this by ofmermaidstories [MULTI-CHAP] [200K] #: fem reader - strangers to lovers - pro hero deku - manga artist reader - eventual sexual content

It probably says a lot about you that your first thought on meeting Deku, international Symbol of Peace, isn't something like "Oh, wow," or, "Oh he's so nice," but is, instead, the un-Plus Ultra thought of, "I definitely would’ve bullied him, in high school." At least until those muscles came in.

the cardinal rule by coopigeoncoo [ONESHOT] [9K] #: gender neutral reader - romantic comedy - bird puns - blood and injury

A story where Hawks learns that while humans might be awed by his flying skills, the bird population is decidedly less impressed.

the widening sky by ofmermaidstories [MULTI-CHAP] [37K] #: fem reader - merpeople au - merman bakugo katsuki - canon typical violence - grief and mourning - eventual sexual content - bittersweet ending

You don’t believe your Grandmother’s stories about mermaids — until you meet one.

triptych by narumi-gens [MULTI-CHAP: ONGOING] [20K] #: fem reader - yandere chisaki kai - psychological abuse - angst - codependency - imprisonment - canon typical violence - sexual content

Your life is nothing more than a triptych, a work of art in three parts with each panel depicting a distinct period — a beginning, a middle, an end. And in the triptych that is your life, the central figure has always been Chisaki Kai.

when to cradle, when to pry by therealvalkyrie [ONESHOT] [1.3K] #: fem reader - established relationship - depresson and panic attacks - reader has low self esteem - hurt/comfort

As he re-learns the joys of loving you, Katsuki also learns how to help you back on your own feet when you need it. OR An "in the aftermath" look at the relationship in 'you feel love in the sodium'

11:49pm by shotorus [DRABBLE] [0.4K] #: gender neutral reader - fluff and intimacy

Gojo is larger than life, but you make him feel small.

all that is solid by grilledtandoorismoke [SERIES] [38K] #: fem reader - arranged marriage - curse user reader - described as blushing - hurt/comfort - domestic fluff - angst - canon typical violence

Coming from a family of curse users and the first person in three hundred years to have your clan's inherited technique, political machinations force you to attend Jujutsu Tech while having to agree to an arranged marriage to Gojo Satoru.

am I (25F) the asshole for fucking my boyfriend's older brother (28M) by rinhaler [ONESHOT] [10K] #: fem reader - sexual content - dom/sub dynamics - older brother ryomen sukuna - sex under the influence - cheating - daddy kink

I know it sounds bad but we got high and he's hot!!

blood and pearls by vennilavee [SERIES: ONGOING] [10K] #: fem reader - trueform sukuna - developing relationship - canon typical violence - cannibalism - eventual sexual content

A lonely water nymph washes up to the shores of an enchanted lake with dreams of the sun and the stars. Little do you know, that this enchanted lake belongs to the king of curses himself, Ryomen Sukuna.

candied hearts by mrs-kurooo [ONESHOT] [10k] #: fem reader - no curse au - hurt/comfort - fluff - third party infidelity - sexual content - body worship - size difference - pull out method

Gojo is a nuisance. What more is there to say.

cor unum by vampyrsm [MULTI-CHAP: ONGOING] [130K] #: fem reader - trueform sukuna - slow burn - period typical sexism - body horror - cannibalism - blood and violence - eventual sexual content

A tale of how the Shogun's daughter ends up in the maw of one of the most fierce curse users to ever exist.

godmaker by firein-thesky [MULTI-CHAP: ONGOING] [50K] #: fem reader - arranged marriage - angst - unhealthy relationships - parental abuse - canon typical violence - hurt/comfort - slow burn - eventual sexual content

And the form leans down, closer, as their voice drops to a murmur, all honey and thorns, the promise of something far greater than you. A storm to come. The future that you will bear upon the slant of your shoulders. And when they speak, you know they’ve cursed you; “I will teach you how to make a God.”

hey lonely stranger (won't you meet my eye?) by stellamancer [ONESHOT] [6.4K] #: fem reader - speed dating - unresolved romantic tension - jealous gojo satoru - allusions to canon typical violence

You attend a match-making event and who else should be there but the last person you want to see: Satoru Gojo.

how to be a dog by prettyboykatsuki [TWOSHOT] [37K] #: fem reader - yandere gojo satoru - manipulation and coercion - stalking - graphic depictions of violence - rape/non-con - forced intimacy - sexual content

"Of course you must learn to love, to love always and love entirely and to be wounded by nothing so much as the violence of your own love." - ANDREW KANE, HOW TO BE A DOG. With six eyes to see, it becomes clear. You are being watched.

intrinsic warmth by thatdesklamp [MULTI-CHAP: ONGOING] [150K] #: fem reader - slow burn - childhood friends - mutual pining - angst - canon typical violence

You meet Satoru on 7th September, 1996. Some time later, you realise you love him.

let your hand become a blade so i may take it by seravphs [MULTI-CHAP: ONGOING] [10K] #: princess reader - knight gojo satoru - royal au - forbidden love - period typical misogyny - childhood friends to enemies to lovers

Knights are bound by duty and honor, but Gojo is more devoted to his princess than he ever was to his oaths.

limerence by shibaraki [ONESHOT] [4K] #: gender neutral reader - friends to lovers - pining - masturbation - sexual tension

The little intimacies you shared together were a fix of Gojo's.

lucky by izvmimi [ONESHOT] [3.5K] #: fem reader - crack - plot heavy with a little porn - todo aoi's otaku behaviour

You meet someone desperate to win a competition.

men are so quick to blame the gods by awearywritersworld [SERIES] [16K+] #: fem reader - enemies to lovers - developing relationship - angst - fluff - canon typical violence - not canon compliant - jealousy

Your boyfriend is a heavy sleeper, leaving you to form an unlikely relationship with the curse occupying his body during the late hours of the night.

playing pretend by itadorey [ONESHOT] [5.4K] #: gender neutral reader - fake dating - friends to lovers - slice of life and humour

Gojo lies to Shoko in order to win a bet and you're dragged along for the ride.

🔒 polluted by heich0e [ONESHOT] [11K] #: fem reader - university au - sexual content - recreational drug use - sex under the influence - gangbang - double penetration - dubcon

"Weed doesn't make her annoying," Sukuna drawls, tossing the basketball up again, only this time away from him—you watch as it curves gracefully in the air, swishing through the little net Geto and Gojo have affixed to the back of their dorm room door. "She's always annoying." [...] Sukuna's smirk turns into something even sharper, a smile unfurling slow and wicked across his face. "Weed doesn't make her annoying--it makes her into a whore."

seat taker by coconutdays [ONESHOT] [10K] #: fem reader - university au - biker geto suguru - sexual tension - fluff - strangers to lovers - eventual sexual content

You have a crush on the smartest and sexiest guy in your lit class who happens to ride a motorcycle with spooky season around the corner. what ever might happen?

still melting? by arminsumi [ONESHOT] [1.4K] #: fem reader - best friend geto suguru - romantic and sexual tension - flirting

Practicing putting eyeliner on your best friend, while sat in his lap. He can't help but take this chance to flirt with you. Of course, a certain someone interrupts your moment right at the end

sunset by princess-okkotsu [ONESHOT] [5.6K] #: princess reader - knight zen'in maki - reader implied shorter than maki - royal au - period typical attitudes - sexual content

You’re a princess, though the last of several siblings, set to never wear the crown of your kingdom. The last to marry, you're suddenly betrothed after your father waged your hand in marriage in some game of bow and arrow. Though you and your knight, Maki, have been content with bottling up your affections for one another, this sudden betrothal has you both wishing for something you know you can't have.

they were just friends by wanderwithme [MULTI-CHAP: ONGOING] [65K] #: fem reader - fireman fushiguro toji - slow burn - roommates - character death - eventual romance - described as blushing

It’s 4:24 p.m. and the love of your life is cheating on you.

turn me like a beast / hold you to the floor by gardenofnoah [ONESHOT] [6.5K] #: princess reader - strangers to unfortunate lovers - hunter nanami kento - the fall of a dynasty - major character death - reincarnation - bittersweet ending

The world is at its end, and an unlikely pair finds solace in each other. To love is an animal thing.

wormwood by linkcities [ONESHOT] [25K] #: fem reader - angst with a happy ending - canon compliant - childhood friends to lovers - mutual pining - codependency - new beginnings

Absence festers in the presence of little yellow wormwood flowers, and you come to learn about how it goes hand in hand with lingering bitterness when you meet Gojo Satoru. or, As the young God’s only friend, you are punctured with the burden of his companionship, regardless if you deem yourself unworthy of it.

风月 | wind, moon by itoshisoup [ONESHOT] [7.5K] #: gender neutral reader - established relationship - fluff - romance

In which you drag Dan Heng halfway across the universe for a candied fruit skewer, and he gets a taste of the life that was once denied to him.

christmas countdown by suguwu [ONESHOT] [16K] #: gender neutral reader - hallmark au - holiday fluff - age gap - romance

Your company is taking on a new project and desperately wants the backing and expertise of retired CEO Jing Yuan. Dispatched out into the countryside to bring him on board, you find it won't be as easy as you think. Jing Yuan strikes a bargain with you: spend the upcoming days with him, until Christmas Eve, and he'll tell you exactly what it will take for him to come back if you don't figure it out yourself. Let the Christmas countdown begin.

nexus by ddarker-dreams [MULTI-CHAP] [51K] #: fem reader - yandere blade - codependency - eventual sexual content - dark comedy - space politics

You belong to a specialized group — the Arbiters — who are capable of influencing others' perceptions. Your clients hail from all corners of the universe to see their wildest fantasies come true. By establishing a link with them, they can experience a dreamscape of their choosing, more convincing than the latest developments in augmented reality. You have received many unique requests throughout the years. After the Stellaron Hunter's swordsman saves you from an early demise, you offer him the chance to experience any phantasia of his choosing. It is then that you're posed with a trying challenge: "Show me what it's like to die."

scrap metal by lorelune [TWOSHOT] [5K] #: gender neutral reader - captive reader - injury - use of a muzzle - non consensual touching - yandere blade - force feeding

Per Elio's newest script, the Stellaron Hunters take in a stray.

love like no other by nanamimizz [ONESHOT] [2.6K] #: fem reader - sexual content - established relationship - open communication

Al Haitham is man solemnly thought he would never find love, so when he has that and more the night turns...physical.

you didn't teach me how to forget you by haitaniapologist [TWOSHOT] [15K] #: ragnvindr fem reader - described as blushing - fluff - lovesick childe - possessiveness

You never thought you would find the boy who haunted your childhood in a trip to Liyue.

arranged marriages and well-kept secrets by dearayato [ONESHOT] [1.7K] #: gender neutral reader - established relationship - talk of marriage - proposals

Ayato props himself on his elbows, a smug smile adorning his face, “Don’t worry love, the only person I see in my future is you.”

for you are the world by lorelune [MULTI-CHAP] [29K] #: fem reader - childhood friends to lovers - post trauma - fluff - hurt/comfort - chronic injuries - sexual content - protective diluc

You return to Mondstadt after many years away, sick, with an feeling that's all-too familiar and unwelcome.

bury me by deskaisers [ONESHOT] [8.8K] #: fem reader - described as blushing - stepcest - step brother oliver aiku - virginity - corruption kink - unprotected sex

Your father's new relationship was rather unexpected, but there was no way in hell you could have predicted everything else that came with it.

everything's better when you're honest by prettyboykatsuki [ONESHOT] [11K] #: fem reader - friends to lovers - professional athlete isagi yoichi - reader is sexually experienced - sexual content

you notice early on that isagi is always holding back something. the deeper into your relationship you go, the more you wish he'd let loose.

to my first love by by-moonflower [TWOSHOT][17.3K] #: fem reader - high school au to married au - non-linear narrative - exploring girlhood - fluff - angst - romance - suggestive - described as blushing

When you agreed to date itoshi sae in mid-October of 1993, you never imagined he'd be your first love—whose presence would continue to linger in your life, hauntingly, even if a year, two, or ten came to pass.

finding peace in the spontaneous wild (that is you) by tired-biscuit [ONESHOT] [26K] #: fem reader - university au - modern supernatural elements - friends to lovers - werewolf kiba - mutual pining - eventual sexual content

You run into Kiba at the grocery store, around two weeks after returning home from college.

🔒 tacenda by namodawrites [MULTI-CHAP] [100K] #: gender neutral reader - mutual pining - slow burn - childhood friends to lovers - canon typical violence - rivalry

Somewhere along the way trying to prove Neji wrong about fate and destiny, you fall in love.

den of wolves by kuramakakashi [MULTICHAP] [37K] #: senju reader - descriptions of gore - uchiha centric - canon typical violence - worldbuilding

Peace in our time – it was the dream your cousin had championed since childhood, and it was the foundation for all of his efforts to bring the constant warring between clans to a permanent end.  And it was why he sent you into the den of wolves with only one order: Save Izuna Uchiha.  

🔒 birds of a feather by namodawrites [ONESHOT] [18K] #: gender neutral reader - touchstarved - possessive behaviour - comfort/angst - canon typical violence

Knives rediscovers his humanity while recovering. You fight hard not to lose yours.

bittersweet by heich0e [ONESHOT [6K] #: afab reader - domestic fluff - sharing a bed - gentle sex - sweet soggy vash

Something shuffles in the dark. Papa left you a gun, too. Even taught you how to shoot it. Mama hated that. She hated how good you were at it even more. She used to say that shooting was gonna be your husband’s job someday, and that even in a world this wicked Papa was teaching you things you didn’t need to know. But now Mama’s gone. And Papa’s gone. And the world is still wicked. And you’ve got no husband, but you have a gun you know how to shoot.

and I know it’s hard enough to love me (but I woke up in a safe house) by seoafin [ONESHOT] [4K] #: fem reader - sharing a bed - tending to wounds - fluff - blood and injury

“My husband and I would like a room. We’re on our honeymoon”. “In this shithole of a town?” The innkeeper asks with a raised eyebrow, looking from you to Vash, who only lets out a sheepish chuckle as he scratches the back of his head. Despite his sluggish breaths, his slow blinking gaze, and the red slowly staining his shirt.

solar lunacy by bamsara [MULTI-CHAP: ONGOING] [225K] #: gender neutral reader - slow burn - fluff and angst - developing relationships - blood and injury - posessive behaviour

You weren’t a technician, you weren’t a security guard, you weren’t a daycare assistant. You’re just an employee. Staff. The ‘jack-of-all-trades’ employee with mediocre at best skills and specialty in none, tasked with doing miscellaneous jobs that robots couldn’t do and human staff couldn’t care to. The job is unpredictable, but it pays good and it’s relatively easy. Except for the part where all the animatronics are more sentient than you thought, and you’re roped into a mystery surrounding the Daycare Attendants, who are bit too curious about you for your liking. You don’t think this was in your employee contact.

cryptid sightings by naffeclipse [MULTICHAP] [250K] #: gender neutral reader - cryptid au - reader is a cryptid hunter - horror - blood and violence - sleep terrors - non-sexual intimacy - posessive behaviour

Perhaps this would scare a person, being all alone in the woods in the dark, but not you. You’re too intertwined with the paranormal and inexplicable. It’s in your blood. That doesn’t mean your heart won’t pound with terror when you face something with fangs and hungry eyes for flesh, but you don’t run away, and that’s what matters most. You will face the monsters.

celestial sundown by pillowspace [MULTI-CHAP: ONGOING] [80K] #: gender neutral reader - god au - historical fantasy - slow burn - blood and injury - developing relationships - dimension travel

You are a peasant living in the middle of the woods, Sun is the god of day you brought back home with you, and Moon is the god of night tucked away in the Celestial Realm.

method acting by seeingivy [MULTI-CHAP: ONGOING] [168K] #: fem reader - celebrity au - actor eren jaeger - enemies to friends to lovers - slow burn - miscommunication - eventual fluff - social media elements

Method acting is a very powerful skill. Using your own personal, physical, and emotional self and pouring it into the character on the screen makes for a powerful performance. Except when it's you and Eren - you're not sure where the acting starts, and real life begins.

public relations by crybaby-ink [ONESHOT] [12K] #: afab reader - office romance - boss/employee relationship - power dynamics - drama - politics - sexual content

Even though Zeke has had a little crush on you for a while now, he’s mostly okay with things in the office staying exactly the way they are. Mostly.

vestal virgin by bokutosdove [ONESHOT] [6K] #: fem reader - modern au - sexual content - loss of virginity - jean kirstein has a corruption kink - protected sex - implied dom/sub dynamic

A virgin consecrated and vowed to chastity; a chaste woman.

wild card by wellitcouldbeworse3 [MULTI-CHAP] [215K] #: fem reader - hunger games au - tribute levi ackerman - blood and violence - slow burn - psychological torture - character death - reader is proficient at archery - described as blushing

When you're selected to be the tribute representing District 12 in the 121st annual Hunger Games, you're pretty sure you're screwed. But, somehow, there's two things working in your favor. One: you're not half bad with a bow and arrow. Two: the male tribute from District 2 seems to have his eye on you...

❄︎ DEMON SLAYER

something blue by extrav1rgin [ONESHOT] [11K] #: fem reader - described as blushing - arranged marriage - angst with a happy ending - hurt/comfort - not canon compliant

Turning away you trace your way back through the route Giyuu had taken you down before. As you walk nearly silently you keep your ears out for the sound of another human. You find a note stuck to the door when you make your way toward it. If it was there before you must’ve missed it. ‘Gone on a mission, will be back.’ And you suppose that’s that.

❄︎ HELL'S PARADISE

safe for one more night with you by nagumoan [ONESHOT] [3.3K] #: fem reader - established relationship - domestic fluff - humour - sexual content

You get to share one last night with your husband Shion before his work will steal him from the warmth of your embrace with the first rays of the sun in the morning.

❄︎ BUNGO STRAY DOGS

pharos by auraxins [ONESHOT] [14K] #: afab reader - mer au - eldritch mer chuuya - strangers to lovers - island survival - blood and injury - eventual sexual content - unprotected sex

“Who are you?” you call. “What business have you here?” “You don't know?” barks the man, incredulousness in his tone. “You summoned me here.” “I fixed the lighthouse,” you correct. “I did not summon anything.”

❄︎ TOKYO REVENGERS

from his mind to hers by embossross [MULTI-CHAP: ONGOING] [102K] #: fem reader - dark content - patient x doctor relationship - sexual content - stalking - cheating

Forced into therapy, Hanma expects to waste his time and yours, but you’re not about to let the chance of a high-profile and higher paying patient slip through your grasp. The fact that you’re both attracted to each other doesn’t hurt either.

❄︎ ONE PIECE

breathe me in by standfucker [ONESHOT] [7.4K] #: fem reader - inappropriate use of devil fruit powers - described as blushing - rough unprotected sex - creampie and breeding

As a woman in the Marines, the path to Read Admiral has been rough, but Smoker's been there for you since the beginning.

❄︎ BALDUR'S GATE

through the gates of horn and oak by sensoo [MULTI-CHAP: ONGOING] [116K] #: fem reader - graphic depictions of violence - sexual content - fluff - F/M/M threesomes - spoilers marked by chapter

Each of them needs something different, but under the surface it's really the same thing. The burden of leadership is isolating and it is so difficult to carry on alone. Zevlor is trying to navigate through the shattered pieces of his life. Halsin is haunted by regrets and the tasks left unfinished. And you can't stop meddling in everyone else's affairs, even as you swear up and down that you're just trying to survive. Living is more than survival, but both are getting increasingly more difficult.

the five senses by nanamimizz [SERIES] [9K] #: fem cleric reader - non-sexual intimacy - angst - hurt/comfort - developing relationship - exploring trauma

A five part mini-series with everyone's favorite high elf vampire focusing on non-sexual intimacy and the budding relationship you foster with the guarded rouge.

❄︎ TWISTED WONDERLAND

uniform by giratinazero [ONESHOT] [2.4K] #: fem reader - non-sexual intimacy - undressing

With one gloved hand he reached up, threading his delicate fingers through a loop in the heart-shaped collar to drag you down to his height. Riddle slowly, purposely ran his eyes up and down the length of your body— you could feel the frustration that simmered just under the surface, like a teapot left on the heat and about to burst with steam.

❄︎ MORTAL KOMBAT

inescapable by dynamites [ONESHOT] [7K] #: gender neutral reader - light angst - crossing timelines - pining

From half across the somber battlefield, someone keeps glancing your way.

❄︎ BLEACH

cherry coloured funk by grinmjows [ONESHOT] [8.7K] #: fem reader - described to have dark hair and pale skin - explicit incest - sexual content

You usually find the moonlit nights strangely empty, for when you call your brother's name through them, he never answers.

desperate measures by ghost-party [MULTI-CHAP: ONGOING] [27K] #: fem reader - modern au - transactional relationship - sugar daddy - age difference - dom/sub dynamic - sexual content - violence

After you’ve been laid off from your job, your friend Rangiku recommends a very specific kind of dating app — one where rich, lonely men seek younger partners to spoil. Reluctantly, you decide to give it a try. You tell yourself it’s a one-time thing, and that you have no plans on becoming dependent on anyone, let alone falling for them. But Sosuke Aizen makes you rethink everything…

❄︎ IDOLISH 7

in the eyes of the tide by namodawrites [ONESHOT] [15K] #: gender neutral reader - merman au - secret identity - angst - hurt/comfort

Oogami Banri is a calm, unassuming man. His first and second impressions of you had been undignified to say the least: encountering you passed out on a bench outside of a little shop, sheltered beneath its slanted tiled awning; assisting you to escape a cave during high tide, too afraid of the strange shapes you’d seen in the water to make the short journey alone.

❄︎ GOD OF WAR

and touched with the wonder of mortal beauty, her face by vampireloverz [ONESHOT] [8.8K] #: fem reader - pre-canon - size difference - sexual content - unprotected sex - canon-typical violence - described with body hair - reader is lifted by character

You hum to yourself, curious about what business he has in the woods, maybe it has something to do with whatever mysterious thing he has wrapped in foreign fabric. Through the days, you find yourself thinking of him. This warrior, this man, so elusive he feels almost like a ghost. You find yourself earnestly looking forward to the next time you come across each other.

❄︎ DUNGEONS AND DRAGONS

kinktober: monsterfucking by mintmatcha [TWOSHOT][5K] #: cisfem reader - original character romance - racism in a fantasy setting - sexual content - monsterfucking

After months of adventuring with your party, you can't help but be curious about a certain dragonborne...

❄︎ THE HUNGER GAMES

the death of an actor by uzurimisery [MULTI-CHAP: ONGOING] [36K] #: fem reader - fake dating - misogyny - reader is dr. gaul's daughter - sexual content - unhealthy dynamics

Y/N Gaul the Capitol's unregulated daughter of Dr. Gaul. Argumentative, independent, and hindrance to Coriolanus Snow's life plans.He can't stand you, you’re impossible for him to read. When your mother concocts a hairbrained plan to better set up her protege you’re caught in the crossfire and forced to play the part of Snow’s lover. Now if only the lines of what's an act and what was real wouldn’t get so blurry.

❄︎ DC UNIVERSE

callipygian by onesmartcookie78, pennydragons [MULTI-CHAP: ONGONG] [70K] #: original female character - described as blushing - canon typical violence - enemies to friends to lovers - secret identity - batfamily drama

"She knows that ass. In fact, she'd spent the whole day staring at pictures of it. So she is absolutely, 100% certain that ass belongs to Dick Grayson. Now, if Dick Grayson wants to run across the rooftops dressed in spandex, that's his prerogative. The problem is, he's not just Dick Grayson. No. Dick Grayson is Nightwing. And she has questions." She hadn't been trying to figure out who he was. In fact, she was trying to uncover the identity of the Red Hood. But now that she knows, she can't go back.

let me just add there are an infinite amount of other amazing fics that will not have made this rec list purely due to the time constraints, submission limit and lack of reach, etc. your fic is valuable and loved whether it made the cut or not—please do remember that!!!!!!

[writingforatwistedworld]

Hi! Can i ask for a self aware twst when the reader surprises adopted Silver as their son. Like just pointing at him and saying 'you are my child now' with Silver, Lilia and Sebek. Hope you have a good day!

Hehe. Anon, you know what you are doing. In fact, I would say you even want the chaos. And for that I love you come here so I can hug you.

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, Diasomnia chapter spoilers (Lilias part, maybe Sebek), religion, violence, isolation, kidnapping, obsessive behavior

Lilia Vanrouge/(Platonic) Silver/Sebek Zigvolt-Adopting Silver

Oh ok. Cool cool coolcoolcoolcoolcool

Well, at least that one room dedicated to you in the form of an altar can now be used for more practical uses (finally)

When Lilia heard you say those words and point at his son, he fell from the chandelier he was dangling from

Not only did he have to navigate through not accidentally telling his son that he was the blood related son of an enemy general and that exactly this general killed Malleus mom

But also that he had now a second parent that also happened to be god

Mhm totally normal

Conversations to strangers about his family were already playing out like this in his head:

Hi, I am Lilia Vanrouge, yes the one in your history book, this is my son Silver, yes he looks like a certain knight, and my lovely partner and also parent of this lovely human, yes, FU**ING GOD THEMSELVES

Ah yes, sitting in church will totally not be awkward after this

Bro legit sits you down with a pen and paper, asking you to sign the marriage certificate

Asks you what flowers you want to have on your wedding. Doesn't matter if you are a woman, man or identify as something else, he is planning that

Also has already planned out how to get you into the Valley of Thorns without anyone noticing

Because no matter how devoted he is to you, he will always be too greedy to share your attention with someone else

You could have said this as a joke or some other protective instinct towards the silver-haired male but all that man's father hears is a marriage proposal

Lilia is just happy that you feel some sort of positive way to his family member (makes things easier when you are stuck in that cabin)

I mean, he did see Silver as a present from you, a child meant to bring him back to the light after being so long in the shadow of war

And now the three of you were together! How lovely!

Which would mean that you planned this all along. Dear Overseer, if you liked the idea of you being a family you could have just told him so

He will be the best partner to raise a child together you could dream of

And should someone dare to interrupt the perfect, peaceful life you three (plus two more) had, he wouldn't mind swinging that sword again

Wait what?

What do you mean with that?

Are you sure you want him to be your son? Really?

Apparently he was not the only one surprised since he could hear the thud of his father falling to the ground behind him and Seek screaming somewhere behind him

Be prepared for a silver haired knight to look at you with the biggest puppy eyes and ask "Do you really want me as you son?"

Critical hit! Someone call a doctor. I think the Valley of Thorns god can be killed by cuteness

After that he is glued to your side (even though you have to part sooner or later since he is not living in Ramshackle)

One morning you woke up to the guy standing there with some food being like "I made some food."

Like where the Heck did he even get the keys for the dorm? (He broke in through a hole in the ceiling)

Silver always comes running to you whenever he does something and wants praises

Once he was best in one of his classes and he stood there with the report like he could turn into a dog and get headpats from you any second

But, as I am sure you are aware of, this is a blog with yandere themes and we have to say goodbye to the fluff at some point

That sword training comes in handy is all I'm saying

I mean, he has probably enough strength to break someone's leg with his bare hands by simply applying some pressure

And that one Diasomnia student that tried to take his son-status away from him was found again in a not-so-compatible-state-with-life kind of situation

I'm letting you imagine what happened

Like Lilia he is ready to burn everyone who dares to interfere with your little family

The forests of his homeland are pretty though so no need to worry about the appearance of your surroundings once they bring you to your new home (who needs social interaction anyways?)

A second of silence

And then the screaming started

“OH HOW KIND OF OUR OVERSEER! TO SHOW A MORTAL THEIR KINDNESS AND CARING SIDE!”

Seek would be lying if he said that he wasn't surprised

You, aka the Overseer, aka some higher being, AKA GOD, were known in the Valley of Thorns to be kind and caring, yet also distant and never approaching others directly

But then you literally adopt someone, making that person someone in your inner cycle?

Well, if Sebek knew one thing then that those Priests were going to have a crisis as soon as they learned about this

Totally not jealous

He would try to get closer to you since, apparently, you did allow others to get close to you

But he was happy as long as you were

After all, he was now the (not-so-official appointed) shield of the Valley of Thorns, something he got passed on by his grandfather

So of course he couldn't be family with you

That didn't mean he couldn't “help” you

Someone intruded on that dinner you had with Lilia and Silver?

Ouch… that punch must have hurt

Whenever Silver or his Father had to interfere because someone else came too close then they were some incredibly slick (looking at you Rook) or lucky person

Don't let his loud mouth fool you

This crocodile has done unmentionables in your name in order to make things easier for your new found family

For what? Oh you know, becoming his neighbor back home… forever

[cordeliawhohung]

Of Sea Foam and Iron [2]

general masterlist | series masterlist | taglist

Hephaestus!ghost x Aphrodite!reader x Ares!soap

what great news to arrive home to.

wc: 4.4k

warnings: historical au with lots of inaccuracies, mythology!au, blood/gore/violence, arranged marriage, nudity, fear of sex, ancient expectations of women

The churning you felt in your stomach was different from the sensation that plagued you the first time you had seen a man disemboweled.

Fear still seized your diaphragm with an iron grip, yet something else lurked underneath it. Confusion. Our wife? As far as you had been made aware, the only man you had been married to was Simon, yet it seemed he had already found a lover well before you were given to him. 

What perplexed you even further was the fact that John not only seemed to understand Simon's claim, he seemed ecstatic. His minor apprehension at your existence melted away into something friendly, adoring even. He no longer looked at you questioningly, which had felt almost like an insult in your own home, and rather he greeted you with a chuffed smile. Your arms crossed over your chest as your mind couldn’t make sense of the odd feeling that ignited along your skin, but when you looked to Simon for answers, you found none. 

“What great news to arrive home to,” John said in complete awe. 

He took a few steps closer to you, and despite your body urging you to back away, you had been completely frozen in place. Perhaps this is why he was such a good warrior. All it took was a simple look from him and you grew as still as stone; if he had that same effect on the enemy, they would be stuck with his sword before they even saw the glint of his blade. But John seemed to have no such ill intent, and instead of a dagger, he reached an empty and kind hand out to you where he cautiously pulled your arms away from your body. 

You had no choice but to follow his lead as he took your hands into his. Much like Simon’s they were rough with work and calluses that would never soften, and his touch sent a tingle along your skin as his thumbs rubbed along your knuckles. Those ocean-blue eyes hadn’t left you for even a moment, and you found your gaze equally captivated by the intimidating presence in front of you being so soft and vulnerable. It was like watching a wolf extend a hand in friendship; certainly he attempted to trick you. 

“What is your name, my love?” he asked, still unable to remove the smile from his lips. 

Your answer flowed from your lips before you were able to stop it, and the syllables of your name felt odd on your tongue. It had been so long since you had spoken it that it was like you had given it away the day you were married to leave it behind with the parts of you that died that day. But when John repeated it back to you, he smiled as if it was the sweetest word he had ever tasted. He gave your hands a firm squeeze before prompting you back inside of the house, leading you by his own hands. 

“Come,” he urged, “we have much to discuss.” 

Dazed, you had no choice but to follow him into the dining room, and Simon tagged along hot on your heels. John’s eyes had caught sight of the food still set out from lunch earlier, and you could practically hear his stomach growl. It all felt oddly domestic watching a man as powerful and intimidating as John MacTavish sit at the dining table, and even more so after Simon took a seat next to him. They looked at you expectantly, and you realized you had no choice but to take your own seat. While your husband and John filled their plates, you found that you couldn’t even stomach the thought of eating at that moment, and instead you kept your hands firmly folded in your lap. 

“So. How long have we found ourselves in this arrangement?” John questioned with his mouth half full. 

“About a month,” Simon replied. You were not ignorant to the way his dark eyes flickered to you upon his answer. “I would have rather waited for your return, but her father was insistent.” 

John chuckled something deep and hoarse. The three of you had sat at that table to eat for only a few minutes, and nearly all the food on his plate had been consumed. Gluttony wasn’t a good look on anyone, but your attention was captured by the rigid lines of the muscles in his arms and the deep circles underneath his eyes. Perhaps it wasn’t gluttony as much as starvation. You wondered how much food Ares’s favorite dog needed to eat in order to survive, and if he had ever gotten a good meal during his recent campaign. 

“It’s for the best, anyway,” John said after swallowing his food. “A ceremony as sacred as matrimony would have been wasted on a soldier like me. Not that I would be permitted to be there, anyway. Hands bloody and rotten from fighting. Would have hated to soil our wife the moment we were bound to her.” 

“We?”

It was the first word you managed to muster — slightly in frustration at the fact they spoke about you as if you had not sat right next to them — yet you wished you had not spoken at all. Having the undivided attention of Simon, with his dark gaze and rugged face, along with John made your throat feel tight. Yet they persisted, keeping their eyes on you as if coaxing you to explain your confusion further. Patient. As if they stared at a skittish animal instead of a grown woman. 

“Why… do you keep talking as if I’m married to both of you?” you asked cautiously. 

“Because you are, in a manner of speaking,” Simon answered. “It was the deal that was made with your father.” 

A cotton-like dryness enveloped your throat, making it difficult to swallow the words he spoke. The deal. He almost made it sound like the marriage had not been a proper one at all with terminology like that, and yet it still sounded correct. There had been no celebration of your matrimony, no going to a temple to make an offering to the gods, no feast in which to honor the intertwining of your lives. There had only been the lifting of your veil, and the promise to keep you safe. 

Still, he had to be joking. Polygamy was illegal, and you were certain that extended even to the great John MacTavish himself. Then again, perhaps there was some work around. You had only ever been officially married to Simon, not John, and if your husband wanted to share you with another, you weren’t quite sure if you could deny that demand. 

“What deal?” you questioned. 

There was a slight pause that settled over the table, either in hesitation or in thought, you couldn’t tell. You quickly glanced at John, who kept himself busy with the food on his plate. Though this was certainly his first time hearing this information, he didn’t appear nearly as confused as you felt. Perhaps it was the soldier in him. Perhaps it was because none of this truly affected him either way; not as a man. 

“Your father would have never married you to me if I was the only man on the end of the bargain,” he finally answered. He leaned forward, elbows on the table, and in the back of your mind you could hear your late mother gripe about how improper it was. “Johnny is the real reason you’re here. He wanted someone strong, and as I’m sure you know, he’s plenty strong.” 

“Oh, don’t let him fool you,” John interrupted. He leaned towards you as he spoke as if he was telling a secret to a good friend, someone he had known his whole life. Maybe that was the charisma that made people not only respect him, but genuinely like him. “You’ve seen the way he works, haven’t you? How he shapes hunks of iron to turn it into something useful. I’ve found no stronger man than him.” 

“No father wants to marry their daughter to a cripple,” he retorted with a sharp bite to his words. Simon must not have used that tone frequently, because even John appeared surprised. “But he would have been stupid to turn away the opportunity of marrying her to you, even if it meant being bound to me.” 

An obvious question burned the tip of your tongue, but you did your best to hold it in. It was a vile thought, something that you were certain could slice through even the toughest of skin, and you weren’t exactly keen on angering your husband and… your other — supposed — husband. But Simon’s eyes bore right through you, and he appeared as if he would rip the words from your mouth if you didn’t gather the courage to say it yourself. So you swallowed the bile as best as you could while you carefully phrased your next question. 

“Then why marry me to you at all? Why not wait for John to return home?” you asked. 

“It wouldn’t have mattered.” 

It was John who answered you, and his response came so quick you almost didn’t understand him at first. He spoke with such conviction, you knew it had to be the truth. Still, your brows drew together as you glanced back and forth between the two men before you. There was a type of tension between all of you that you hadn’t felt since your wedding night with Simon, and you didn’t like the taste of it. 

“Why not?” you questioned. 

His next answer didn’t come as quick as his previous one, but it wasn’t for the lack of words. He drank in the silence of the table as his attention returned to Simon. The two looked at one another for what felt like an eternity, yet the blink of an eye at the same time. John quickly wiped his palms off on his chition before he reached a hand for Simon’s, who cautiously returned the gesture. Though he kept his eyes on Simon, when he spoke it felt like he wasn’t the only one he talked to. 

“Because what’s mine is yours.” 

That certainly was not the homecoming you knew John deserved as a highly acclaimed warrior, but it was the one he was stuck with. A confused and morose wife who greeted him with nothing but infuriating questions. But didn’t you have the right to be angry? For the last month you had shared a bed with your husband, partook in meals with him, just to be under the impression he wanted nothing to do with you. Suddenly his lover returns home, and then you learn his intention had been to share you all along? That your father had been in on that ruse and you were none the wiser? 

What were you to do for the rest of the day besides mope around the house? Not like you had done anything else since you had been given away. Like the caged bird you were, you sat at your perch near one of the windows on the second story as you watched the city bustle around below. Simon’s hammer could be heard pounding away at his forge accompanied by a quiet murmur. While you rotted away inside the house with your festering frustration, your husband — or husbands — caught up on lost time. Or perhaps they discussed what to do with such an unruly wife. Not even your beauty could excuse your sour behavior. 

You were long past caring about any sort of punishment. As far as you were concerned, living in that prison of a home was punishment enough for the crime of simply existing. No matter what, it seemed as if you were destined to suffer. If you lived your life as an unmarried woman, you would have been chased after by countless men either to steal you away or ravage you. But as a married woman, you were forever locked away like a criminal. Both options were lives hardly worth living. 

It would have been better to be sacrificed and return the god’s gifts back to them. Spilled blood was certainly more comforting than Simon had been, and John MacTavish intimidated you despite his apparent kind nature. You knew better than to trust a dog that still had flesh in its teeth. 

When night came, a breeze accompanied it that smelled so much like the ocean you swore you could taste it on your lips. Torches ignited in sparkling waves across the city, and you watched as people took shelter in their homes to escape the darkness that swallowed buildings whole. You had never really been afraid of the dark. Not when it brought out the most dazzling creations in the sky with comforting stars and a moon so bright there was hardly a need for torches at all. It was all so consoling you swore you could have fallen asleep in that windowsill without a care in the world. 

“My love?” 

John’s voice and his hand on your back was such a surprise to you, you nearly jumped out of your skin. Your body twisted to see him, and you were met with an amused smirk. Your first instinct was to scold him for giving you such a fright, but you opted to give him what felt like a confused glare instead. 

“You’re very flighty. Like a bird,” he commented. 

Huffing, you attempted to regain what little of your composure you were able to as you stared up at him. He wasn’t quite as tall as Simon, though you were certain that would be a near impossible feat anyway, but his broad stature was certainly something to be reckoned with. You knew you shouldn’t say anything snarky, yet that entertained expression on his face made your shame boil painfully underneath your skin. 

“You’re just like Simon,” you breathed. “Both of you are too quiet for your own good.” 

“Maybe you’re just tired. Fatigue can wreak havoc on your senses,” he countered, though his look screamed that you were right. “Come, we’re settling in for bed.” 

You wanted to deny his request, but you would have no true reason to. None that he would accept, anyway. Would you just continue to stare wistfully out the window like a poet or philosopher, only to crawl into bed later and disturb the two large men you would find underneath the covers? No, you didn’t want any more trouble than you had already caused. They already had reason enough to beat you, or worse, and you didn’t want to give them another. 

By the time John led you to your shared chambers, Simon was already naked and standing next to his side of the bed. Strange that he had shamelessly bared his body to you for the last month while keeping the true nature of your marriage to him secret, and it would be a lie to say that you weren’t a bit peeved at that knowledge. Still, oddly enough you had gotten so used to the image of his bare body that you no longer felt embarrassed to look at him in such a state. His eyes studied you carefully, like they always did, but with slight apprehension. As if he prepared for you to chastise him; as if he thought he deserved it. 

“Go on, little dove,” John urged. 

You quickly glanced back at him, and then to the bed, and your stomach dropped when you realized how the sleeping arrangements were about to change. Whereas you and Simon would sleep on opposite sides of the bed, well away from one another, you were certain you wouldn’t be able to get as much space with John in the midst of it all. Even worse, he gestured to the center, as if he wanted to trap you between them. A sickening dread gripped your chest, and you tried to soothe yourself long enough in order to form the words that plagued your mind. 

“I’d feel more comfortable sleeping on the edge,” you admitted. 

John laughed as if you told him a joke, and you couldn’t help but feel a little patronized, even with his euphonious tone. “Sorry, love. This side is my spot, I’m afraid.”

He gestured to the area directly next to the bed, and you caught sight of the short sword he had worn earlier, the one you were certain he was going to gut Simon with when he first arrived. You could see the dents in the blade and the raw wood on the handle, discolored from his grip. That weapon was one that he used often, and kept close. Something he had clearly used to take the lives of countless men. 

“This side is closer to the door, and the other side is Simon’s. He has a hard time getting around, I’m sure you’ve noticed,” he explained further. 

Gods. His reasoning was sound, but you still didn’t like it. The thought of being stuck between two men who only felt contempt for you made the bile in your stomach boil. A roaring fear plagued your thoughts as you imagined crawling into that bed. Perhaps the only reason Simon had not taken you the night you were married was because he wanted to wait for John to return. Being trapped between them on the bed would make it impossible for you to fight against them, should they get the urge to have their way with you in the night. You had managed to convince yourself that you would be able to lay there and take it if it were just Simon, but with John? That was just dehumanizing.

Impatient, Simon crawled into his side of the bed where he covered himself with the plethora of blankets. He laid on his back, exhausted from his long day of work, and he looked at you with a heavy sigh. You prevented him from his rest, that much was obvious, and his silent frustration only poked you further.

Seeing as how you had no other option, you timidly scurried into bed next to Simon. There was a special shame that sizzled in your chest as you attempted to get comfortable, and it only got worse as John began to undress himself. Similar to Simon, his body bore countless scars and even some new minor wounds, and there was a heavy ruggedness to it from war. Sinewy muscles, tanned skin; he was the very paragon of vigor. Still, the very moment that his chiton began to fall past his hips, you turned away in favor of facing Simon instead. 

At least he was familiar. 

Once John extinguished the oil lamp and the room plunged into darkness, you felt the bed shake as he climbed in behind you. Every movement had your muscles constrict like you expected him to scoop you up into his arms, or worse. Though you were not allowed out of the house very often, even before your marriage, you knew the rumors of soldiers and their insatiable lust. So much time spent on the battlefield with adrenaline running high always had a way of turning men into ravenous beasts. 

If he did have plans to take you or toy with you in the night, John kept those intentions hidden as he settled into the mattress with a heavy sigh. The bed was large enough that the three of you could lay side by side without touching one another, and you found yourself eternally grateful for it. Though, it suddenly made sense as to why it was so large in the first place; not because Simon was a beast of a man, but because two men shared the bed with one another. 

And then there was you, their third. 

Sleep did not come easy for you that night. A symphony of breaths filled the still air, and a blazing heat threatened to suffocate you underneath the blankets. You did not dare move as you were terrified to rouse the men from their sleep, and your body began to ache from staying on your side for too long. You felt as if you were a mouse in the den of a lion, forced to stay quiet and still lest you be devoured. But anxiety could not hold you forever, and eventually sleep curled its roots deep into your mind, silencing your rampant thoughts. 

Even still, your trepidation followed you into your slumber. That night, you dreamt your feet were comfortably buried into the warm sand that lined the shore of your city. You could wiggle your toes and feel the grains mingle between them playfully. Innumerable boats gently bobbed along the shoreline as fishermen reeled in catches of life to be later sold in markets. Brackish wind pulled at your hair and clothes, urging you towards the singing waves in front of you that danced along the coast. With the sun high in the sky, its rays illuminated the water before you with dazzling, hypnotic beauty; giving you no other choice but to give into your desires. 

Your feet began to move on their own accord, trudging through the sand towards the beckoning water. It felt like you were called home by your mother, like someone tried to coax you into a warm embrace. Salty mist cooled your face, yet the closer you got to the water, the further it seemed to recede. No matter how close your feet came to kissing the waves, or how strong the taste of the water grew, it was always just beyond your reach. 

As the waves retreated, it revealed the horrors that lurked underneath their pristine beauty. Rotten fish, shattered bones, decaying iron; remnants of an old battlefield laid at your feet with bodies strewn carelessly, left to spoil where they fell. Its acrid scent assaulted your nose, and you found yourself coughing on the foul smell as you attempted to push further, to no avail. 

Something sharp caught your foot, and you found yourself on your hands and knees in the sopping wet sand. Though you didn’t dare to turn and look at the wound, you could feel the warm blood seep out of the gash in your skin, and you cried pitifully at the pain. All you wanted was to return to the sea, to feel the grace of its waves welcome you into its grasp. Instead, your tears streamed into the blood stained sand in front of you where the salt of humans mixed with the salt of nature. 

Among the chaos and the pain, something began to grow in front of you. Delicate green stems unfurled from the mud, and you watched as flowers began to bloom faster than any you had ever seen before. Buds began to form on the end of the stems, and they soon blossomed into a beautiful array of colors. Delicate petals fluttered in the breeze, and their floral scent gave you slight reprieve from the rot that surrounded you. Anemones. Their dark centers made their bright yellows, pinks, and blues pop brightly against the dull sand behind them, and yet even with all that beauty, you couldn’t stop crying. All you could do was lay there and bleed. 

When you woke, the first thing you noticed was the pale light of dawn that peeked through the shutters, illuminating the room with a dull glow. Birds quietly chirped in the distance as they woke from their slumber, and if you had been alone you would have stretched your arms out and basked in their melody. 

But you were not alone. 

Throughout the night, both John and Simon grew closer to you, so much so that their combined heat nearly cooked you from the inside out. As you became more aware of your predicament, you felt your heart almost cease its beating. Simon’s bare chest obscured most of your vision, and you felt his chin rest on the top of your head. His body was not quite pressed against your front, but he was still close enough that you had nowhere to move. 

As for John, his body shamelessly pressed against your back. His legs fit snugly against the curve of your own, and his breath tickled the back of your neck with each exhale. To make matters worse, his hand rested on your waist as if it had known no other home, but it wasn’t just him. Simon’s fingers intertwined with John’s where they both held you close, keeping you secure, keeping you safe. 

The thundering of your heart in your chest rattled so fiercely you feared it might wake them, yet they did not stir. If anything, they only moved closer, as if their incognizant minds could sense your apprehension and attempted to comfort you. By some miracle, it worked. It had been ages since you last felt the warmth of someone's touch, as not even your own father would offer you such solace. Your senses began to calm as the pounding in your chest subsided, and your body seemed to grow heavy with sleep once more. 

Despite their nature, with their rough hands and scarred skin, they were so tender. They held you with care as if you would crumble otherwise, and something within you screamed that you didn’t deserve it. You had been nothing but cold and judgemental towards the both of them with the notion that you deserved better than what you were given, yet they still granted you patience. 

Any other man would have put you in your place, or rather put you to work. If your tongue could not be stilled, then the least you could do was provide someone with an heir. There were many women who had been put on display in your city for insubordination. Some were paraded around like animals or freakish beasts to gawk at, while others were thrown to the icy depths of the ocean off the city’s highest cliff. You feared John and Simon would be like any other man, yet for some reason they weren’t. 

But there was no time for you to dwell on such dejected thoughts. Not when you were so warmly wrapped in their embrace. For the first time in your life, you found your eyes drawing closed in the arms of another. You couldn’t remember the last time you had ever felt so loved, and you realized that maybe their intentions were more pure than you had feared. Maybe all they truly wanted was to cherish you, and you found yourself silently praying that you could stay like that forever, if not, just a bit longer.

[redflagshipwriter]

Hot Ghouls in your Area ch 4 progress

(read other sections of this and more stories here)

Danny floated miserably through the stacks, pulling out books that looked remotely plausible. Maybe he needed help. Jazz would help him without laughing at him, right?

Sam and Tucker absolutely would not. They would think it was hilarious that he had so little game that the universe assigned him a boyfriend via Jeremy Waters. 

‘As if I could pull a guy who looks like that,’ Danny thought wryly, and then felt a little bad about himself in comparison. Jason was, uhhhh, physically blessed. He was tall and well proportioned and his hands- Danny fought down a shiver and resisted the urge to steal another look. Jason was out of sight anyway.

Well. He still hadn't seen Jason's face. Maybe he was ugly! You never know. Or maybe under the helmet it was totally smooth, no face. That would be neat. Danny paused mid motion to imagine that.

Haha. Sick, man.

That concept cheered him up a little as he grimly opened the first book and started skimming for likely words like marriage, spouse, and concubine. 

He didn’t bother reading anything in detail. He stuck a post it note on each page with a relevant term and then put the book in a pile to take back to his dorm. This wasn’t going to get solved in a day.

Ah, shit. Danny paused. This wasn’t going to get solved in a day. He bit his lip and looked off in the direction where Jason had disappeared to do his own research.

He truly didn’t have time to devote to this right now. He was not willing to drop his school life in order to solve a sudden problem. Jason was just going to have to cope with whatever timeline Danny could manage without setting his life on fire.

On the other hand, Jason was a human guy who probably had a life of his own at the biker bar/fight club. Whatever the hell required that kind of outfit probably kept him busy! So Danny couldn’t like, just leave him in the castle to chill.

“Not to mention the fact that he shouldn’t be able to live here very long anyways,” Danny muttered to himself.

That was troubling him. Frankly, Jason should have been intolerably uncomfortable in the ghost zone for this long without specialized protective equipment. It wasn’t meant for humans.

‘What did Jeremy do to this guy?’

Yikes. Did this mean… Did this mean Danny should have given that little cult thing more credit? But Jeremy was just such a doofus. He grimaced. Embarrassing. Why were his enemies so embarrassing? This shit didn’t happen to, like, Wonder Woman.

Danny buried himself back in the books to avoid the growing suspicion that Jason might have been uhhhh magically altered to make him an appropriate concubine to a dead king. That thought sucked! He didn’t like it. He really didn’t like the idea of bringing it up with Jason.

When he had what he thought was a good first round of research, Danny shelved the books he’d gotten out and went to find where his …

He whole-body flinched at the point where he needed to plug an appropriate noun into that sentence. 

“Jason?” Danny called, juggling books into a stack. “I think we should probably get you back to the re- the human world. Before something inexorable happens.”

A pause.

“I don’t think you know what that word means,” Jason said. A book shut. Danny headed towards the sound, phasing through shelves effortlessly. A spark of curiosity lit up at Jason’s voice. He sounded relaxed, even through the helmet’s filter. 

‘I want to hear his real voice. Bet it’s nice.’

Wait. What? Danny shook the thought away, discomforted. He plastered a wide grin on his face. “I don’t know any words,” he lied breezily. “I’m just ad libbing. Anyway!” He flopped dramatically down onto the big chair next to Jason’s, making sure to be extra physical to get a satisfying whumpf. “We really should go! I can get you to the human world, but, uh, I can’t promise to put you back where you came from.” He scratched at the back of his neck. “I think this is going to be a more than one day affair.”

Jason was watching him. There was nothing visible through his helmet, but Danny got the sense that he was tense, waiting for a threat. 

Which, what? Why would Jason feel threatened by-

Oh. Danny felt a knot in his stomach. Right. That made a lot of sense. He felt kinda sick. 

He didn’t let the feeling show through and barreled on speaking. “I don’t exactly have an easy way for you to contact me, but we probably need to stay in touch to fix this. Do you have any ideas?” 

The lie felt kind of gross. But he could hardly tell the guy; “I’m an engineering student in Gotham, you can just call my cell or come to the dorms.”

Jason seemed to relax at the cessation of control. “If you can stick around, yeah. I’ll get you a burner phone, exchange numbers. You’re not going to…” He trailed off. Danny felt a frown somehow. “You won’t have any signal here, actually. That won’t work.”

“I can make it work,” Danny assured him, hands up. “I mean, I can’t make it work here, or I would have offered to help with your tech. But I can pop in and out of the human world and check my messages.”

“That’ll work.” Jason’s helmet turned ever so slightly. “About the books…”

“You found something good?” Danny asked, impressed. “Yeah, awesome. Just be really careful with them, the librarian is a scary guy.”

Jason’s hand flexed over the closed book on his thigh. “I can take- how many can I take out?”

Danny scoffed. “I’m not your dad,” he said. “Whatever you can carry, man. You ready to go or do you need a minute?” He flipped back to his feet with a grunt. 

[mrs-kmikaelson]

Should've Known Better

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x reader, Mikaelsons x sister-in-law!reader, Kol Mikaelson x reader (if you squint), Marcel Gerard x mother-figure!reader Summary: After a thousand years of marriage, everything comes crumbling down, taking you with it. But you shouldn't have been so surprised; you knew that Klaus was fire, and you knew that fire burned. You should've known better. Warnings: long, lots of angst and tears, cheating, (do i put tw for violence? like it's tvd, ofc there's violence), no promises of a happy ending Words: 7.8K

Masterlist | Part 2

a/n: not an update for the tribrid yet, but i come bearing a peace offering. this is the only one for now, but i have an idea for a part two if you guys want one. also, tell me if you want to be on just my klaus taglist or my tvdu one.

In the past, you’d been told that your relationship with Klaus didn’t make any sense. You ignored them. They don’t know us, you thought. They don’t understand what we’ve gone through. And that, for the most part, was true.

You were turned with the Mikaelsons when you were only twenty-one years old. You and Klaus had stuck together since then. Through all the trials and tribulations, you two were inseparable. The daggering of his siblings, the hunter’s curse, his enemies coming after you, trying to break his curse—you were there every step of the way. Nothing could make you leave him. In your mind, it didn’t matter what obstacle life threw at you; you’d beat it. You beat it every single time.

Later, you realized that you should’ve known this would happen sooner.

You should’ve known that it was too good to be true.

You could still remember walking into your shared apartment that day in the nineties. You were on top of the tallest mountain, feeling like you were on top of the world. Until suddenly you fell, plummeting down to the ground as the life you’d built fell with you. But that wasn’t the right word to use. You did not fall that day.

You were pushed.

“Nik, I got the-”  you cut yourself off, dropping the bags in your hands to the ground. Something in them cracked, but you couldn’t hear a thing. Your world went silent; it was as if the only cracking you could hear was the cracking of your own heart.

Klaus quickly got up, speeding to you. While he was able to get his pants on quickly, there was nothing he could do to hide the blonde in his bed- your bed.

“Y/N, love, it’s not-”

“It’s not what, Klaus?” Tears that you didn’t even know were there raced down your cheeks. You saw him wince when you addressed him. You never called him that.

“This is not what it looks like.”

“Oh, really? So you didn’t just fuck this girl in our bed?” At that, his eyes went downcast. You felt your hands shake. He had no explanation to give you and you knew that; it wouldn’t matter if he had one, anyway. You weren’t gonna stick around to listen to it.

You sped out of your shared apartment as fast as you could, not caring if any human onlookers saw. That day, you swore to yourself that you were done.

You should’ve known better.

That day, you ended up running to Elijah, hoping he would give you refuge, but you knew now that it was wishful thinking. It didn’t matter that Klaus and Elijah were fighting. It didn’t matter how close you and the nobleman were, how much he claimed to care for you. At the end of the day, his brother would still mean more to him.

So, that same day, Elijah brought you right back to Klaus.

You refused to talk to him, but he begged, and begged, and begged. He promised, and promised, and promised. He showered you with affection and more sweet-nothings than he’d ever given you. So, you thought to yourself, he’s trying. He just made a dumb mistake. We all deserve second chances.

You kick yourself now for ever being so stupid. But, at the time, all you could think about was the centuries upon centuries of love the two of you shared. It felt like a crime to throw it all away over one mistake.

But it wasn’t just one mistake.

“Y/N, love, please don’t do this-” Klaus reached a hand out to grab your arm, but you shoved him away. You stormed out of the house, your husband following right behind you. It was pouring outside, but you didn’t care. There was a much more dangerous storm brewing inside of you. You’d prefer to be out in the rain than to ever be in that house with him again.

“Y/N, please-”

“Get the hell away from me.”

“Y/N-”

You spun on your heel and exploded, “Get the hell away from me, Klaus!” The rain hid it all so well, but you were both crying.

“Please, I can’t lose you.” You finally broke down, letting out a sob. You fell down to the ground as Klaus tried desperately to catch you, ending up kneeling on the ground next to you.

You tried to hard to be strong, not to cry, but you couldn’t help it. You were smart; you knew better than to let a man do this to you. But, when it came to Klaus, the man you’d spent your entire life with, your heart overpowered your head.

Your voice cracked with every word you spoke. “You said this would never happen again.”

“Love-”

“No, you promised me, Nik, you said never again.” He opened his mouth to speak, but you didn’t let him get a word in. “You said you would never put me through this again-”

“Y/N-”

“It’s been all of ten years, and here we are, in the same position you put us in last time-” You cut yourself off sobbing as your voice failed you. You buried your head in your hands. The heartbreak you felt was ineffable, so much more intense than the last time. When you said your vows all those years ago, so high on happiness, you never could’ve imagined that you’d one day feel like this—that Klaus would make you feel like this.

He didn’t say anything else. There was nothing to say. There was no defence for what he was doing to you. So instead, he wrapped his arms around you, and being tired, you let him.

It was funny, almost. Even as he engulfed you in his warmth, even after he took you inside and placed you by the fireplace, you still felt so cold.

After the second time, you left him. You woke up the morning after, wrapped in his arms, and you left without looking back. Leaving him almost hurt just as much as catching him in the act, but you knew this was what was best. You needed to do this.

This time, you didn’t go to Elijah. You cut off all communication with the Mikaelsons completely, even though they were both blowing up your phone. After the first fifty phone calls, you threw it in a dumpster.

Being away from Klaus made you feel better, but you still didn’t feel like you. For a long time, you felt broken, incomplete, so used. You didn’t know who you were without him. But you got better. 

Slowly, you built yourself back up, building walls around your heart so that no one could ever do that to you again. But if Klaus was the big bad wolf, then you may as well have just been a little piggy because, when he found you, he blew those walls down effortlessly as if they were made of straw.

See, Klaus Mikaelson was like a whirlpool: try and swim away all you want, but he would just keep sucking you in until you’d eventually die.

You should’ve known better.

You walked into your apartment with a kick in your step. It was a good day; you were happy. But the smile on your face dropped when you saw the figure standing in your home.

You tried to go back out through the door, but Klaus was faster, speeding to you and closing it shut, caging you between the door and him. You let out a shaky breath, unable to turn around as you rested your forehead against the door, tears welling in your eyes.

It’d been three years since you last saw him, the longest you’d ever gone without seeing him, yet he still made you feel things that no one else on earth could.

For a moment, you were both mute until you broke the silence, whispering, “What are you doing here?”

You heard him swallow as if he was scared, but you were the one that was terrified. Klaus would never lay a hand on you, but he could hurt you in ways that were so much worse, so at that moment, you feared for your life. Because you knew that, with the right words, he could get you to fall into his trap again, and going through all this again would kill you.

“I-” he paused, like he was gathering his thoughts. You thanked whatever god was out there that he didn’t make you face him. “I knew you were here, I just- I wanted you to have time to yourself, but, Y/N, it’s time to come home now.”

Your lips quivered as you struggled to hold the tears. He made it sound like this was a game, and maybe to him it was, but it wasn’t like that for you. This wasn’t a break that you’d just “come back” from; you were done, you promised yourself that.

You shook your head, but Klaus spoke before you could even utter your protests. “I can break my curse.” Your eyes involuntarily went wide, not having expected that. You were just about to spin around, but he turned you first. As soon as your eyes met his, you couldn’t help the tear that fell down your face.

It was like you forgot how beautiful he could be.

He looked to be having somewhat of the same reaction as you, scanning over you as if couldn’t tell that you were real. And honestly, you even felt like pinching yourself, too.

His voice got softer. “There’s a girl in Virginia, the doppelgänger.” He paused to let you say something, but you were so taken aback by everything that’d happened after you stepped into your apartment that you were practically speechless. How ironic. You’d spent months agonizing over all you’d say to him if you ever saw him again, but now that you were, you had nothing to say.

“I am so close, Y/N,” he whispered. His hands cupped your cheek so gently that a stranger would’ve never guessed that this man had destroyed entire villages, that he even destroyed you, too. When he rested his forehead on yours, the tears that you were trying so hard to hold in came falling like your eyes were a waterfall. “I can- I can wake the rest of the family. Rebekah, Kol, Finn- I know how much you miss them all.”

Your heart tightened in your chest because you did miss them, but you forgot just how much you missed him.

“We can be a family again, Y/N.” You screwed your eyes shut. Your husband was a smart man. Whether the tears in his eyes were real or if he was just a great actor, you couldn’t be sure, but he knew exactly what your weak-spots were and he was using them against you.

This wasn’t fair, you thought. This wasn’t fair at all.

“Please, let us be a family again.” You opened your eyes, biting your lip to prevent the sobs from escaping. “I love you.” Oh, you should’ve kept your eyes closed. You should’ve sped out the door the second you saw him. You should’ve ran farther, tried harder to disappear so that he would’ve never found you.

But none of that mattered.

Because, just like that, you folded.

After a week, you ended up leaving with Klaus. You helped him with his plans to become a hybrid, and he was trying, you could tell he was really trying, but your marriage wasn’t the same. Whenever you kissed him, you couldn’t help but wonder, did she kiss him like this? When you made love, you wondered, was he so tender and loving with her, too? Were you even as special as he told you that you were?

There was only so much trying he could do. You knew the damage was done. You now had insecurities that no amount of sweet words could ever get rid of. You were such a confident woman, but you didn’t feel that way, not anymore.

Your mirror was cracked, sure, but you could still see yourself. You still saw a future, a bright future. You, Klaus, Elijah, Rebekah, Kol, Finn—you could all be a family, just like Klaus told you that day. You could see it.

So you stayed.

Eventually, they were all woken up. For a while, things felt normal, like when you’d been human. But you were starting to learn that good things never lasted long enough.

When Esther came back, she tried to kill you all. You defeated her, as a family, but no matter how hard you tried to convince them, your siblings all left. This family’s broken, Kol said to you. You’d best get out while you can, Y/N.

You should’ve listened to him.

But you didn’t, and you’d later wonder if things would’ve been different. If you took Kol’s offer to come with him, to leave your husband and travel the world, then would you have been happy?

You tell yourself you’d never know, but you knew deep down that you would’ve been happy, that at least you wouldn’t have been devastated.

It was only you and Rebekah; you were the only ones that could stick by Klaus. In that way, you two were one in the same, two sides of the same coin. You’d always be living in the same hell, trying to get to heaven by being loyal to him, but little did you both know, the longer you stayed, the deeper down into hell you went. Until heaven was unobtainable. 

For a while, things were okay. You and Klaus were okay—God, you were just getting to okay. And then Kol died.

That took the cake. Nothing you’d ever felt was so painful, not even what your soulmate did to you, or the man who was supposed to be your soulmate.

Suddenly, you were wishing you could turn back time, wishing you could’ve gone with Kol when he asked you to, wishing you could’ve spent more time with him—you just got him back.

After Kol’s death, it was like the idea of a family became unobtainable, too.

You were in pieces, but Rebekah stayed strong. She handled Klaus while you couldn’t, because wasn’t that your job? What else were you here for—what else were either of you here for?

You wanted to kill Jeremy Gilbert, to rip him and Elena to shreds and to make the Salvatores watch. You wanted them to feel even an inch of your pain, but Klaus didn’t let you, and you resented him for it.

The way he behaved after Kol’s death was unforgivable to you, but you were able to see past it because what was his death if it wasn’t a wake up call? You didn’t want to take this life for granted; you didn’t want to wake up one day, regretting not spending time with your husband because he was dead.

So you repaired the bond that was severed after Kol. You held him and he held you just as tight, if not tighter. Neither of you wanted to lose the other. So you worked for it, you worked for something better, you worked to be something like what you were before—to be anything like what you were before.

But, oh, you should’ve known better.

You didn’t walk in on Klaus cheating on you a third time. He confessed to you, tears in his eyes. He begged, and made promises, and begged, and begged, and cried, and cried, and he did the whole routine, but you were silent throughout it all.

You didn’t cry. You felt like your body was out of tears. God knows you’d cried an ocean away for Klaus, for this family, for the family you could’ve had.

You didn’t say anything, but you knew better now. You weren’t gonna run away, you’d learned from your mistakes. Instead, you moved into a different room in the house. The flowers, the jewelry, the sweet words—oh, all of the things that’d made you swoon in the past didn’t faze you. You’d been force-fed so many sweet words that you now had a tooth ache that no doctor could fix.

You didn’t talk to Klaus for weeks, but when the time came, you followed him to New Orleans. You were practically lifeless, but when Klaus brought you into a bar and you were met with the sight of the boy you took in, the boy you thought died, it was like someone took a defibrillator to your chest.

Hugging Marcel for the first time in almost a century was like CPR. Is this a play? you wondered. Is this Klaus’ strategy? But at that moment, it didn’t matter. Once again, you were reminded of Kol. You needed to cherish your loved ones while you still could, and so it didn’t matter if Klaus was using Marcel to get you to crack, you’d appreciate it, anyway.

But you should’ve known better. You should’ve known that you couldn’t be happy.

When you got to the plantation late at night, the house Klaus insisted you stay in, you were confused to see a brunette woman standing on the stairs.

You furrowed your brows while the woman’s went up. She looked like a deer in headlights. Before you could ask her any questions, your sister came into view. She looked almost as shocked as you.

“Rebekah?”

She ignored you. “You’re here,” she said, surprise lacing her voice and an unknown emotion in her eyes.

“Yes, I am.” You glanced in between Rebekah and the brunette, starting to become unnerved with their expressions. You didn’t know why she was surprised that you were here; it was you who should’ve been surprised at her arrival.

You should’ve known better.

“Elijah- Elijah didn’t tell me you’d be here.”

You only got more confused as she went on. “Elijah’s here?”

She ignored you again, scoffing under her breath, shaking her head at the ground. “My brother’s a fool,” she muttered. And only then did you realize that the emotion in her eyes was pity.

You looked back to the brown-haired woman, instantly realizing why she was looking at you like you were going to attack her. Quickly, you looked away before you actually did. You didn’t say the exact words out loud, but they knew that you knew.

“What is she doing here?” Your voice was sharp; you saw the girl flinch out of the corner of her eye.

When Rebekah looked up at you, you felt your heart drop. She looked at you like you were the last to be let in on the secret, like she knew she was about to single-handedly crush you. Softly, she told you, “Listen.” And so you did.

And then every other time your heart broke felt like nothing. Nothing could compare to the utter shock you felt, the pain. Because you heard a little heartbeat, and you knew the implication Rebekah was making.

You looked up to the girl to see that she was about to cry. That almost made you lose it. Who was she to cry? you thought.

You looked at Rebekah to see tears in her eyes, too. “How?” You asked, but she didn’t get a chance to reply.

“Niklaus is a hybrid, Y/N.” You turned to see Elijah slowly walking into the room. He looked careful, almost, like anything he said could set you off. “He’s not a full vampire-”

“And she’s human,” you cut him off, humourlessly chuckling. The human girl gave him a baby.

You couldn’t help but wonder, if you had a baby while you were human, would your marriage have ended up this way?

But none of that mattered. Right now, it felt like nothing mattered. Just as you thought there was nothing more Klaus could do to you, he gets his one night stand pregnant. Now she wasn’t so much of a one night stand anymore, was she?

Your siblings were looking at you like you were a china doll, like their brother had just thrown you and they were waiting for you to break. But your face was blank. On the inside, however, there was an entire hurricane taking place, but it was like your body refused to release any of it. Oh, you wanted to break down, you wanted to so badly, but it felt impossible.

There was nothing more to say- nothing you cared to hear, anyway. So you slowly walked up the stairs, heading for a guest room, ignoring Rebekah and Elijah’s calls. The blonde started crying, and if you’d looked down, then you would��ve seen Elijah burning a hole into the ground with his gaze.

You didn’t want to look at either of them, especially not your husband’s right hand man. You were growing to resent Elijah, even though there was a time when you were the best of friends. Maybe if he hadn’t brought you back to Klaus that day in 1996, then you could’ve been spared this horrible, horrible feeling. But no. Any relationship you had with a Mikaelson was trumped by the relationship they had with Klaus.

Of course, they were here, you thought. Of course, they come running back to him the second he does something stupid.

But how mad at them could you really be?

Haven’t you always been doing the same thing?

After you’d gone up stairs, you could remember popping open an old bottle of whiskey and drinking until your vision was hazy. You couldn’t remember when you fell asleep, but when you awoke, Klaus was right there in bed next to you.

You ignored your thoughts, questioning the nerve of him to get in bed with you after what you’d found out, and walked out of the room.

But you didn’t feel as angry as the night before. You felt numb, almost. The last time you felt so empty was after your parents died a thousand years ago. It didn’t necessarily bother you, though. Feeling nothing felt better than feeling everything.

So you let it be. You showered, got dressed, and left the house. Rebekah and Elijah stared at you as you left, but you didn’t give them the time of day. You went and met Marcel for breakfast like everything was fine, went shopping, then you came back home and climbed into bed. When you woke up, Klaus was there again, but you ignored it and continued with your routine.

For three weeks, you didn’t say a word to your husband. He could barely even try to speak to you; you were gone all day everyday and you were asleep by the time he came home. Rebekah would try to make conversation whenever she saw you, but she only received short answers. Elijah didn’t even try; something told you he felt guilty, and you hoped he did. The pregnant werewolf whose name you learned was Hayley would tense up every time you crossed paths. Once, she tried to apologize to you, but it was as if she were talking to a wall because you didn’t give her the slightest bit of attention.

While you weren’t communicating with the people you lived with, when you went out into the Quarter, you were a different person. You were lively, and confident, and funny, and you didn’t look like a woman whose husband cheated on her. Marcel was constantly introducing you to people; you were always surrounded by people, and while you felt so alone at first, as time progressed, you stopped feeling so lonely.

Suddenly, it was like that hole in you started to heal. The hole was still there, but it was getting better. 

One day, one of your new friends introduced you to this boy, this young, newly turned boy. And, looking at him, you felt something other than despair: you felt like you were human again. Talking to him made you feel things that you forgot existed, things Klaus used to make you feel on a daily basis.

This boy was good. He was pure, and happy, and full of life, even though he was dead.

It felt wrong at first. Klaus was the only man you had ever been with. But perhaps that was why you liked this boy so much: he reminded you of a side of your lover that had been long dormant, the side of Klaus you fell in love with.

You never slept with him. You never even kissed him. All you did was feel something.

But that didn’t matter.

Oh, you should’ve known better.

So much better.

You opened the door, your bag immediately falling to the ground at the sight you were met with. “No- no, no, no.” You sped into the living room, falling to your knees. Your tears fell with you.

In front of you, the sweet, sweet boy you were starting to feel something for was lying dead in his own apartment. You wished it wasn’t real, but his body was grey, veins all over him. With the hole in his chest, he didn’t look so peaceful anymore.

You cupped your hand over your mouth in shock, silently sobbing. You were so distraught that you didn’t even notice the footsteps behind you.

“I ripped his heart out.” You turned your head to see none other than your husband standing a few feet away from you, the red organ in his hand. While your vision was blurred, you could still see the quiet anger on his face, even though he seemed emotionless. He dropped Leo’s heart on to the ground like it was nothing.

Suddenly, a fire that you thought died out alit in your body. You all but sneered, “What is wrong with you?”

Klaus humourlessly chuckled. It was almost like you couldn’t recognize him, but oh, he had never looked more like himself. “What’s wrong with me?” He echoed. “What’s wrong with me is my wife has been sneaking around behind my back.”

You scoffed in utter disbelief and shot up from the ground. “Oh, so I’m the villain now? I’m sorry, saint Klaus, I didn’t know you were so innocent.”

“Don’t start this with me.”

You snapped. “You started this! I have been living in that house with you and your pregnant werewolf, leaving you to your own devices, but the second I try to be happy, I’m the one in the wrong?”

“Y/N-”

“No, I- I can’t even believe what I’m hearing right now.” A laugh escaped from your lips, full of darkness. “I have not done any damage to this marriage.” You pointed at him. “You’re the one who broke your vows, not me. Forgive me for wanting to clutch at any happiness I could have after you took it all from me.”

Klaus pointed right back at you. “Our marriage isn’t over, Y/N- it will never be. I will never let you forget that.”

You shook your head. “This isn’t a marriage anymore.” Klaus’ mouth opened to protest, but you kept going. Everything you held in and didn’t say was coming up like bile in your throat that you desperately wanted to vomit. “You have destroyed this marriage, Klaus! Hell, you destroyed me.” You pointed to yourself, more tears coming to your eyes. “You have cheated not once but three times, and you got the last one pregnant! But the second I- what? The second I so much as talk to a man, you go and rip his heart out and get mad at me? Do you hear how insane that sounds?”

His jaw clenched, and maybe there was some sign of regret or remorse in his eyes, but you honestly couldn’t care less about his feelings at the moment. “Y/N-” he started, but you didn’t dare let him finish. 

“No, it’s you who threw a thousand years down the drain, not me.” You took a step closer to him until you were chest to chest and you were looking right into his eyes. Maybe this would’ve ended in a kiss in the past, but your relationship was no longer the same. You grit your teeth.“I will never let you forget that.”

You then sped out of the apartment, running and running and not stopping until you were in an area you no longer recognized. Once you stopped, you let all of your tears fall, resting a hand on your chest and running the other through your hair. Your heart and your head were both pounding. Every time you thought Klaus couldn’t go any lower, he proved you wrong.

So, standing in the middle of nowhere, you grieved the loss of that poor boy, and at the same time, you grieved the loss of the man who was once your best friend. You grieved the loss of your marriage.

Because this was more than just killing a boy.

In doing this, Klaus killed another part of your marriage when you weren’t sure there was even anything left to kill.

After crying your heart out, you returned to the plantation and went straight to sleep. For a week, you stayed in bed, in spite of Rebekah who came knocking on your door every morning. One time, she didn’t leave so quickly after you remained mute. She sat on your bed, demanding that you eat something. When, throughout all her best efforts, you stayed silent, she threw the glass of blood onto the ground, breaking down and sobbing. Tears ran down her face as she pleaded to you, but you only stared at the wall, expressionless.

She apologized to you in between in her tears, even though it wasn’t her fault, even though you were only this way because of Klaus. But, oh, wasn’t that Rebekah’s specialty? Wasn’t that yours—stuck paying for the sins of the hybrid for the rest of your lives?

She cried, and cried, and cried, until she eventually left the room, too exhausted to keep dancing the same dance. She didn’t come back again.

You never cleaned the blood on the floor from the glass she threw. If anything, you hoped it soaked in and ruined the mahogany floors of this god awful house. It wasn’t long before you wouldn’t have to stare at that stain anymore because Klaus had come to tell you that you were leaving. You’d all be going to the Abattoir, he said.

You were confused; that was where Marcel stayed. So, for the first time in a week, you spoke. When you found out about the altercation they had, you recoiled. Both disgust and shock were on your face: disgusted at your husband’s behaviour and shocked with how he was treating Marcel.

You felt like screaming at him, but you didn’t have enough energy. Instead, you just stared at him. With your voice just barely above a whisper, you told him, That is your son, Klaus. You hoped that conveyed everything else you wanted to say. And you knew your message was received when Klaus walked out of your room without another word.

When you arrived at the compound, little changed. You and your husband still didn’t talk. Soon, when your siblings arrived, you didn’t speak to them either. Life went on this way for a long time.

Until Hayley gave birth.

Oh, life had felt so slow, but suddenly it started moving so fast.

When you first laid your eyes on little Hope, tears came to your eyes. She looked just like her father, you thought. And while you had never wanted anything to do with this, what Klaus had done, you couldn’t find it in yourself to condemn an innocent child.

Maybe Rebekah and Elijah would pay for their brother’s mistakes. Maybe you would, too. But you’d be damned if you let that baby suffer solely for being a Mikaelson.

Even if it meant you’d suffer the most.

The night Klaus came to you, you didn’t greet him, but you didn’t look at him so scathingly, either. In the courtyard, he asked something of you that’d change the rest of your life.

“Y/N, I know we’re not on the best of terms- I know I haven’t been a faithful husband, nor a good one,” he admitted, glancing down as if he were nervous before looking back up to your eyes. This was serious, and he wanted you to know that. “I know you don’t deserve this, and I know you never signed up for this. But I need your help.”

You straightened your shoulders. Whatever he was going to say, it looked like it physically pained him to say it. You wondered if this speech was inspired by Elijah, but you diverted your thoughts away from that. This wasn’t about your marriage; this was about something more important.

“You’re the only person I trust enough to do this, the only person I can really ask. It’s wrong of me to put this pressure on you after everything I’ve done, but I wouldn’t be asking if this weren’t so dire- you have to believe me.” He grabbed onto your hands, and you let him, even though it made you want to die, because when your skin made contact, you felt his hands tremble.

“Hope can’t be here; it’s not safe. The people of this city now know she is my weakness, and they will do anything to spite me, you’ve seen it firsthand.” You knew exactly what he was referring to: the day the witches tried to kill her. At the thought, you tensed. You saw tears gather in his eyes. “Please, I need her not to be here right now-”

You cut him off, almost in a state of awe as you realized what this was all about. “You need them to think she’s dead.” Your voice was breathy, like you’d just finished running a marathon, and wasn’t that what life was like in this family? With the Mikaelsons, no matter how powerful you all were, you’d always be running from something, fighting something. That couldn’t happen to Hope- not now, not yet. And so, without so much as another thought, you agreed, “I’ll do it.”

“Y/N-”

“No, Klaus, I’m doing this.” For the first time since you got to New Orleans, he saw a spark in your eye that you both thought had been extinguished. “I’ll take her, and I will protect her with my life.”

After that, he just stared at you for a few seconds. And for a moment, you as you held eye contact, you caught a glimpse of the man you fell in love with. For a moment, it almost felt like everything was alright, like he never cheated and like you never left. For a moment, the world stopped, and it was just you and him against the world.

But you knew better now.

You were startled when your husband suddenly embraced you tightly as if he never wanted to let you go. And then you realized how you couldn’t remember the last time you’d hugged. So, after a few seconds, if not just for the sake of it, you hugged him back. Although he quietly stammered his next words out, he still said them with more sincerity than you’ve heard from him in a long time. “I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You knew he was referring to more than just what he was asking of you. But, oh, you knew better now.

“I know.”

Not long after you and Klaus had that conversation, you took Hope. For the first time since you met her that day and found out she was pregnant, you actually talked to Hayley. Her eyes widened, like she couldn’t believe it. You told her that this didn’t make you two friends, but you also promised her that you’d look after her daughter. 

She thanked you after a beat of silence, and then you and Hope disappeared.

You were gone for a while until your family’s drama eased up and you got the okay to come back to the Quarter. In that time, Hope’s parents missed their daughter’s first Christmas and also her birthday. But you made sure to take all the pictures you could. Even with the way you felt about them both, you weren’t gonna let those feelings get in the way of their relationship with Hope.

Their family, rather. When you returned, you realized that this was no longer your family. Eating dinner with them your first night back only proved that to you. This baby had changed all of you. You no longer knew your husband, and he no longer knew you. 

When you first arrived to the compound, Klaus and Hayley came rushing to hug their little girl. The hybrid mouthed a thank you to you as he rubbed Hope’s back, tears in his eyes. The hostility you’d shown him from when he confessed he cheated on you all the way until just before you left New Orleans was gone. You couldn’t find it in you to be hostile as you watched him hold his daughter. In that moment, he was more than the man who betrayed you; he was a father who had been separated from his daughter.

That didn’t mean you forgave him, but you were trying to get there—for Hope.

Rebekah and Elijah showed up not a minute later. The blonde cooed at Hope while Elijah walked toward you, enveloping you in a hug that you couldn’t deny. You were worn out, and all you’d wanted this past year was to not be alone. But, deep down, you knew these efforts were futile. Things with your siblings would never be the same. 

Rebekah had once been your best friend, but she was Klaus’ little sister first. Elijah was like an older brother to you, but he was Klaus’ first. The only person who could’ve possibly understood the way you were feeling was Kol, and he was long gone.

So, even as you stood in a room full of people, you still felt just as alone as when it’d only been you and Hope.

However, your epiphany didn’t matter. Maybe if it weren’t for Hope, you would’ve left and never turned back. Maybe you could’ve gone out and tried to find yourself, tried to be that same girl you were starting to like when you left Klaus in 2006. But Hope was there, and so you knew you couldn’t go anywhere. You had to stay with your family, even if they weren’t really your family anymore, because you just had to be there. You needed to protect Hope. You needed to keep Elijah from handling everything, and you needed to keep your little sister from spinning out. You needed to be there for Klaus to fall back on if he needed to, not for him, but to make sure he could be the best father he could possibly be to Hope.

To you, it wasn’t a choice. You needed to do this.

After all, didn’t you promise always and forever?

So, you stayed. You took care of Hope and took care of Klaus when Rebekah couldn’t take it anymore. It was almost as if your once other half and you had a silent agreement. He never tried anything, not even so much as holding your hand, but you were there for him as a friend, even though it broke your heart.

The two of you never officially ended things. Part of you wondered if maybe he thought you would get back together one day, but now you knew better than to ever expect anything like that. Yes, you would stay in the compound. And yes, you would take care of Hope. And yes, you would play nice with the mother of his child. But you were no longer Klaus and Y/N Mikaelson.

You were just Klaus and Y/N.

You never went out with another boy again. It was pointless, and you never wanted to fall for someone again if this was what love felt like, if it only ever brought you pain.

For years, things went this way. There were a few threats here and there, but they were taken care of every time. Hope was the most loved child in the world. She was starting to grow up, and so she was also starting to realize that her parents weren’t together. She was starting to realize that her father looked at the woman that’d been there all her life with a look of warmth in his eyes. She was starting to ask you questions that you didn’t know how to answer, questions you weren’t prepared to answer.

So, on Christmas Eve, after everyone had went to bed, you unscrewed the oldest bottle of liquor you had. You were originally saving it for a celebratory occasion, but you, too, were starting to realize things. You were starting to realize that, perhaps, the celebration would never come.

So you sat on the couch in the courtyard in front of the fireplace, unfazed by the cold. The Christmas tree diagonal to you glimmered and gleamed, but you were no longer so magnetized to it. Something in the last few years had taken away bits and pieces of your spirit until you were no longer sure it was even there anymore.

You took a swig of the wine, indulging in its bittersweetness as you stared straight into the fire, not caring if it’d blind you. For the first time since you turned, you loathed your immortality. At first, you looked at it like a blessing, something that’d give you an eternity with your family, an eternity to travel the world and enjoy all it had to offer you.

But now it was just a curse.

Just as you took another swig, you heard footsteps behind you, and suddenly the couch dipped, someone else sitting right beside you.

You could immediately tell who it was just from the mere grace of his actions. Elijah. You glanced at the nobleman, almost scoffing at his attire. Past midnight, and yet he was still in a suit.

Your voice was raspy as you remarked, “No rest for the wicked, huh?” Elijah sighed as you passed the bottle to him. For a second, you thought he’d scold you for not using a glass, but instead he took a large gulp straight from the bottle.

“It seems that way, Y/N,” he said, passing the bottle back to you. You chuckled, but there wasn’t much humour in your tone. He didn’t ask you why you were awake, nor did you ask him. You just sat together in front fireplace, passing the bottle back and forth. You didn’t know if you were both so silent because of how tired you were or if it was because your relationship had just become that fragile.

Sitting there, no Saint Nick came by in a magic sled. There were no reindeer, or bells, or snow. There was no magic to this holiday for you anymore, and you wondered if Elijah felt the same way. You wondered if he was as tired as he looked right now, as tired as you felt. If he was, then you couldn’t help but feel bad for him because, even though you had felt resentment for him, you wouldn’t wish this on anybody.

Still though, you wondered if you’d be sitting there if Elijah just let you go that day. You wondered how things would’ve turned out if he let himself go, too.

Like he was reading your mind, he suddenly turned to you and whispered, “I’m sorry, Y/N.” You turned to face him. While he looked serious, he looked more broken than you’d ever seen him. “I’m sorry I brought you back to him that day. I’m just now realizing that I’ve never apologized to you before.” You stared at him silently, and so he continued, looking back to the fire. “You could have been happy, and I took that opportunity away from you. So I am sorry.” He paused, like he was debating on saying something, a glazed look in his eyes as he lightly muttered, “More sorry than you’ll ever know.”

For what felt like forever but was really just a minute, you didn’t say anything. You, too, turned back to the fire, biting your lip as you tried to articulate what you wanted to say. “I think… I think, at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter.” You saw him turn back to you out of the corner of your eye, but you didn’t look back. You didn’t know if you could say this while looking at him. “I think it would’ve ended up like this, anyway. I was his wife, not his keeper, but that didn’t matter. My love for him would’ve always made me stay and look after him, even though it kills me inside, even though I think I died a long time ago.” You swallowed. “My mother used to tell me to watch how boys treat me, but Nik wasn’t just any boy. I was so enthralled by the beauty of the fire that I didn’t care if I’d get burned- God, I just wanted to feel warm.” Unknowingly, a tear fell down your cheek. At that moment, you turned to your brother to see him watching you intently. You shook your head, giving him a small smile. “It wasn’t your fault, Elijah, it was mine. I should’ve known better.”

At that, you got up, leaving the bottle with Elijah, and you walked back to your room. You didn’t sleep that night, but when Hope came running into your room in the morning, screaming that Santa came, you pretended to be asleep so that she could wake you.

You sat through the opening of presents, Elijah looking at you differently than before. And you’d sit through multiple Christmases after this one.

No matter how much it hurt you or how it unhealthy it was, you knew you were locked in now, and you threw away the key ages ago. You couldn’t get off this ride, not even if you tried to. 

Maybe, if you didn’t let Klaus pull you back in time and time again, then you wouldn’t be stuck. But you did, and now all you could do was just sit and let the roller coaster run its course, no matter how sick it made you or how many tears would leave your eyes when no one was watching.

Now, you’d be here always and forever. But you still couldn’t help but think-

You should’ve known better.

Taglist: @honestlycasualarcade