#haha oops!! all tears!!!

[joyfullyacat]

Unordinarily Foolish

haha, don't hurt me, not beta'd it's another hurt no comfort - but this time no one dies! woo!! inspired by @gniteruirui 's animatic here (except then it spiraled way from that and im a little sorry-)

CW: so much self loathing, general heartbreak, pining when your heart wars with your brain, no happy ending word count: 2.7k

-

You’ve hit rock bottom it felt like.

What respect did you have for yourself any more?

There’s been a pain, irate and grating on the nerves right in your sternum lately but it was better than feeling numb.

At least, you think it is.

You go years single without affection, you had your time to date and you took time away from the pool, you got your licks from it, you thought you learned all the lessons. 

Now look at you.

Unsteadily, your hands follow the curves and grooves of the toys you clean with wipes. Under here, around there, get into that crevice. Your thoughts travel and your eyes wander to the subject of those thoughts.

Sun is cackling with giggly kids hanging off every limb, clutching about his legs and wrapped about his arms. He’s carefree and radiant, in his element, there seems not to be a care in the world with him… And maybe that was what had you ensnared. You stare at the panel in the back of his neck that his jointed neck comes out of. A distinctly inhuman appearance to his otherwise human personality.

Just maybe, this is what kept you away. You were an ordinary fool with a silly heart but your brain was logical… Cruel but logical.

You were an ordinary fool with not so ordinary lessons to learn. Like how bad of an idea it is to be in love with something - someone incapable of feeling as you do with temperamental chemicals and functionalities that dictate every part of you from head to toe. Who won’t share the experiences of life with you like an ordinary couple.

What you had was not an ordinary love.

This was no ordinary circumstance.

When did you take his exuberant nature for something more than what it was? When did his crushing hugs of friendly greeting become something that stole your breath away - more than just physically. The nicknames too, the sunshines, dewdrops, and daydreams, every single one of them stuck into you and hid between your ribs, becoming new butterflies that’d flutter in your stomach haplessly against your will.

You have enough respect for him to not dump this onto him or his lunar counterpart, Moon. 

Oh yes, a counterpart. A double decker to your psyche, really.

To be in love with not one but two distinct personalities and individuals that weren’t even human. Who likely could not grasp the concept of love, it wasn’t something to be easily defined like happiness or sadness, it was muddled by every emotion and bolstered by them similarly.

This wasn’t including the fact that you were fleeting in their very, potentially eternal, lives.

This also wasn’t including the fact that at any moment, they could be torn in twain and scrapped against your wants to make new animatronics, better ones, new personalities. They wouldn’t remember you - even if they kept the same face.

It already happened once, after Sun and Moon were split into their own bodies.

Most of their memories outside of the employee data bank were lost. You were pretty much another face in the crowd to them.

You were happy to befriend them again - at the time that’s what they were. Friends.

Because denial is not just a river in Egypt and you were hopelessly flowing down it back then, oh it’s just a crush. Merely infatuation! They were new, exciting, interesting and human enough, but you know now.

No, you were utterly endeared and helpless to how your heart speeds up around them.

Well over a year later.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Moon approaching, slinking in the designated shadowy corners you created with well placed large plushies and decorative hangings.

The animatronic lifts a finger, pointing to what you’re doing unknowingly. “I think that toy is clean enough…” He speaks in his typical low grumble, a permanent growl to his voice that rattles in his chest. Something that comforted you in your lowest moments when he’d hug you on days of stress.

His words bring you back to the moment, looking from him then over to the poor anthropomorphic turtle figurine with colored bandana in your hand.

You had stripped some of the color from it. Faded smears of green staining the little white rag.

“Ah, yeah. It is…” You cough, setting the toy in with the others and picking up a sort of tubby looking unicorn toy with cheap white hair and a set of sparkles on its hind quarter.

“You’ve been spacy lately.”

Ah, he was always the more confrontational of the two. A trait you admired and feared. You thought you were confrontational once upon a time, then you met him. Then you learned how ham-fisted your emotions could be to you. Making you clam up entirely.

Both were observant, eventually a comment would be made on your actions lately, your behaviors. Whatever vitals they’ve been able to read from you.

Sun was far more subtle, much more rounded. Acting sort of as a bumper to your feelings with careful gestures and honeyed words that served to entrap you further, much to his unknowing warmth. Leaving you little sticky notes of well wishes that you’d save and so on.

You felt… Dirty, really. Dirty about it all. Guilty may be more apt. Taking their gifts of friendliness for your own selfish needs. To fuel fantasies of your own design.

A low timbre breaks you from your thoughts, “Starbright?”

Right. He’s still there.

Moon brought himself closer, even in that moment of thought. Just an arm’s length away, well for him anyway. You’d have to lean forward.

“Things have been… Going on is all, Moon. Sorry about that, I’ll pay for a replacement toy.” The funny turtle guys are usually stocked in toy aisles, it’d be easy to pick one up the next time you’re going out for the easiest and cheapest premade meals because you haven’t been able to bring yourself to cook properly otherwise lately.

He doesn’t look convinced, looking past you to something just over your head, probably over to Sun if you had any guess. The two had a way of communicating without necessarily having to be in speaking range of one another.

Likely some technological link.

You watch as he nods once... Twice... Three times before suddenly decisions are made.

“...Come on, you’re taking your break early.” Is all he says before you’re swept up with an arm around your shoulders, promptly escorted to a doorway tucked behind one of the play structures with quite the tall baby gate that keeps wandering tikes from going into it.

Also known as the way to their personal room that wasn’t through that funny hook system that made them “float” to the balcony.

You squirm and writhe against his hold, trying to dig your heels into the carpeted area with all your might but he practically picks you up in your struggles. “Ho-Hold on now, I didn’t agree to this-!”

“Don’t care…” He draws out in a mocking sing-song. “Attendant’s orders, we care for children, this includes adults who act like children.”

Was this how you lost what shred of dignity you had left? Cornered to fess up by your coworker and crush? Could you dumb it down, play it off as if it were nothing? Make up a story about something in your personal life going on?

…Better question, did you want to?

You wouldn’t get a better opportunity than this, even if you wanted to do it with both of them present at the same time. No having to repeat yourself and becoming mortified twice over if there is only one band-aid to rip off, after all.

Though that question was answered for you with the reveal of Sun awaiting you up the stairs, hands on his hips and leaning forward, primed up and ready to chastise you for your mistreatment of yourself.

Quickly, you try to find a way out of this impromptu grilling on your being, “I know you did not leave the kids unsupervised.” You point out stiffly, gesturing to the balcony that the solar-themed animatronic likely scaled.

“You are correct, I set up their nap hour! We are both capable of it… Remember I was doing it alone for a time!” He’s chirpy in his jest but distinctly, you feel that smile he can’t necessarily help is more sarcastic in this moment.

“So that leaves you alone with us - ideally uninterrupted with plenty of time to figure out what is wrong with you.” Moon elaborates simply, resting his arms over your head and leaning his weight into you comfortably.

A common way he liked to make fun of his height over you. 

“Mhm! So tell us, sweet sunshine, what’s been eating at you?” Sun holds his hands out to you in invitation, flexing his fingers once.

You don’t hesitate to take his hands into your own two, staring right into his daylight-bright eyes that’d somehow shine more when he was excited you noticed. You hoped they’d stay like that. You don’t ever want to see that light dimmed.

With a deep breath, you decide to take the leap.

“...What would your guy’s responses be if I said I liked you?”

The way Moon goes tense, able to tell even with the rigid, barely padded metal resting against you, has you worried.

Sun twitches in your hold, almost as if wanting to pull away, “Well… It depends in what way you mean by that!”

The animatronic above you doesn’t reply.

Well, here goes nothing for you. Maybe you can ask to be transferred to a different area. Does Bonnie Bowl need any sort of supervision? Children are in every corner of this place, surely someone good with kids would be good in just about any place…

How hard do you play this up… Pouring your heart out would dramatically be for the best you figure.

A little tap to your temple makes you jolt and you can only wish to be able to look up and glare at the attendant who radiates smugness over your head.

“I want to experience life with you in the long run. I want to feel your hands in my hair and I want to be able to care for you similarly, maybe I’d pick up sewing or something to make sure your things fit, I don’t know. I wish to teach you what lies beyond these walls I want you - both… You and…” You point to Moon above you. “I don’t think I could ever choose and risk separation or division. I know there are differences and I'm sorry to dump this all out, it's unwanted and complicating and-” At some point, you start to cry, your frantic blinking had only kept the tears at bay for so long and you couldn’t bow your head to hide the waterworks.

So you stared at Sun who looked to you with, you think, eyes that weren’t remotely as bright as they once were. You caused that.

The seeming pity you felt from them, the awkward, stoney silence.

Your love for them was theirs to keep, your heart would never be your own you think, not for some time. They could do as they wished with it, it was the only blessing you could give them. For them to know they were loved in that way, even if for them, it does nothing.

“...I’m sorry.” You apologize once more after a few moments of the deafening quiet that you couldn’t bear any longer. “I didn’t want to say anything, I was trying to keep it under wraps hoping it’d go away but it didn’t even when I took that - stupid long break using up all my vacation and sick days in one go-”

“Wait, that was why you left for a month?” Moon speaks up, interrupting you swiftly and flicking your temple soon after. “You’re unbelievable. See Sun, this is what I mean. They’re a big child.” 

He’s so huffy about it you can see the silent tapping of his slippered foot against the ground… Actually no, you hear it now. The little bell jingles and his pants sound with the movement.

“Mmm, yes. Yes they are.” Sun confirms with a nod.

You huff out something that you think was supposed to be laughter, “You two are not making me feel any better about this.”

“Because you’ve chewed yourself out thoroughly I think! We had to get you smiling somehow.” Sun releases one of your hands to poke at your nose. “I say we did good.”

Your now free hand automatically went to rubbing at your eyes to forcefully clear the remaining wetness away, using your knuckles and making your vision scramble momentarily. 

“This… Doesn’t give me your answer though.” “Because I’m afraid we don’t have one, Starlet. You’ve dreams and ambitions - but we don’t share them… Especially when it sounds like this like is more of a love, isn’t it?”

Moon has you pinned and you can only let your shoulders lower slowly, forcing down that sticky feeling in your throat, the ball that wants to come out in a sob. 

They didn’t need to be so gentle about it. You wanted them to… Mock you. Do something that’d make you view them at least - something less than pleasant?

Something less than the sweet as peach nature of Sun and the toying black cat nature that Moon possessed, endearing even if sometimes you wanted to take him by the waist and shake him from side to side.

“...I’m sorry.” Is all you say, again.

You’re not sure what this means for you and your friendship with them. Do they view you as silly? Hopeless? A daydreamer with too lofty ideas? Potentially, too idealistic? Romanticizing what wasn’t there? 

“There is no need for an apology, really…” Sun soothes, hushing you when you went to apologize a third time with a press of his finger to your upper lip. “I think you knew our answer to begin with, somewhere in you, didn’t you?”

You did. The one your brain would tell you whenever your thoughts went down the rabbit hole of what-ifs and possibilities. 

After all, they were made with a purpose in mind. Artificial in design, they had their directive, and you were not part of it. They were in love with their duty, their charges, adoring the children they take care of and see grow with each visit. They were caretakers first and individuals second.

You want to find an end to this conversation, a solid conclusion, something of change, meaningful and positive and before you can broach the topic of how this should go on, the sound of a child crying echoes through the dying conversation, silencing it fully.

A part of you laughs deep down at the comical way the two attendants shoot-up like dogs catching the movement of a squirrel. Another part of you cries and laments at their presence leaving yours, the bubble thoroughly popped as arms drop from your head.

Not a moment of goodbye, not a note of continuing this later. They go over to the balcony.

“Oh ho ho! It seems we are up and shining already! Rise and shine from the clouds, who’s ready for snacks?! I say we have little apple bunnies!” Sun cries out with all his joyousness coming out in full force as he launches himself over the railing with a dive.

Moon only spares you a glance, giving you a simple two-finger salute with minimal words before his departure. “Go home.”

The moment he’s over that rail is the moment you feel the urge to keel over and curl up. You feel you screwed that over spectacularly.

This was never so painful, this was never such an agony. Never did feeling love make you feel like such a wretch of an individual. Like an utter bother.

But you go home as instructed. A quick text sent to your coworkers and a brief, phony explanation to the security guard stationed at the front how you sicked up in the bathrooms and wasn’t sure if it was contagious, and you’re out of there.

The rest of the day that’d serve as your shift, you spend staring blankly into nothingness while going about chores you neglected previously due to your shifts and emotional turmoil that left you unwilling to move once you got home.

Anything for normalcy.

Anything to not feel useless. 

Even got to cleaning your bedroom, sorting your messes and putting things where they belonged - briefly you feel accomplished.

You go into your prettily made bed at an hour that’d surely give you a sneer and a direct order to nap by Moon. The sun is kissing the horizon and the inky blackness of the sky, making way for heartwarming pinks that bleed to oranges and purples.

All you feel is cold however.

A meager handful of hours later and you wake up just a bit before your alarm is supposed to go off, to your phone chiming with a text.

…A text.

From your manager.

No email, nothing professional, no official slip of paper.

Hey, sorry to hear you aren’t feeling well, I hope it was just something bad you ate and not an actual issue since you don’t have sick days but, hey, you’ve been moved stations. Effective immediately and all that.

The arcade with DJ Music Man is pretty cool, you’ll do just fine there, you may have to learn some basic engineering and wire tampering though.

Your throat hurts from the wail that falls from you. Miserable and broken.

Desperately, your brain tugs at you. It tugs at your heart. That these tears aren’t needed, you’ve cried, this was for the best. You could heal from this, it wasn’t a break up. You still have your job, there are brightsides to this, that change was good.

All your heart could pound about was that you weren’t wanted anymore.

Unloveable. 

Foolish.

[omppupiiras]

my mom's birthday is coming up & i wanted to make her a lil corn son of her own 🤗 but i had to make two just incase i messed one up haha

[sxfterhearts]

DROPPPP THE JIUNG SMUT FIC 😭💔😭💔😭💔 literally nobody writes for him anymore and it makes me sad idc if it’s fluff, angst, smut, etc. just need me some jiung tbh

OMG ANON!!! this is insane i'm literally SO HAPPY TO RECEIVE YOUR ASK UHM THANK YOU AND UH ALSO I LOVE YOU IG? 💗 sorry is that too dramatic

okay youre so real tho literally nobody writes for my love jiung........... except i USED to write only fluff (i think i have around 3 fluff fics in my masterlist) and im not even joking, i literally have not wrote a single word of smut in 4years. FOUR YEARS. can you imagine???? it took kcon and dfesta and hello82 CHOI JIUNG TO BRING ME OUT OF MY SMUT HIATUS. WHEN I TELL YOU I WAS TRIGGERRED I REALLY MEANT IT COS OHHHHHH MY GOD I FR WAS LIKE FKJEJNFEILJNR RAHHHHHHHHH 👹 haha ha im gonna rant below under the cut sozzz

anyways TL;DR: DW MY FELLOW CHOCOCHIP your girl's gotchu i SEE u and i HEAR u and i will be working on the smut fic in earnest tonight (wish i published it earlier but damn it really is harder than i rmb to write smut) so yes. it will be dropped sometime tonight if all goes well (aka if i dont lose my mind will writing my own smut fic) you have been warned !! get keen !!!!! also feel free to DM me if you would like me to add you to a taglist or notify you when it's published (i'm aussie so time diff wise it will probs drop at a time that is convenient for americans cos LOL tumblr is an american site fr) !!!!

thank you so much for this ask btw it has been received and much appreciated by this little piwon writer living in her own tiny corner of the internet <333333333333 like i say this all the time but anytime anyone interacts with me and reads my fics it legit blows my mind cos im like who?? me??? damn.. //blushes

also ur so right i think its crazy how the popularity of members in terms of fanbase vs which members people actually want to read fics for is like... so different like worlds apart omg JUSTICE FOR HYUNG LINE PLSSSS i need more hyung line writers omfg

[fadewalking]

Cole: "Get out, you are no son of mine."

Dorian: Yes.. like that.

Cole: He wishes he hadn't meant it.

Sometimes the dialogue about Dorian's father hits a wee bit too close to home 🥲

[suiana]

(yandere! ex x gn! reader) (thought of this in the shower and thought it would be funny)

it had been five long dreadful days since you last talked to him.

five.

full.

days.

your ex boyfriend thought that it was finally time to break the silence and embrace your presence again. unfortunately, you had blocked him on all platforms and even got a restraining order on him. like, you've blocked him before but not a restraining order!

you even got all dramatic and said you wanted to break up!

...again.

he honestly thought it was a little cute. like aw... you wanted a break again! okay, because he loves you so much he'll give you another one! like you obviously meant break up as in separate for a bit then go back! like as always!

so... why haven't you contacted him at all?

he's itching and clawing at his walls just waiting for you to text him. but no, nothing. zero. absolute silence.

all the blocking and restraining orders weren't just to get his attention?

...

but he doesn't care haha! why should he care? you're just being a little dramatic again. this is how it's always been. he knows you just feel neglected, so of course you're just doing this for attention!

oh! he knows what to do!

that's right! he should show up with gifts and coddle you in kisses! like always!

that's why, he's patiently waiting for you to return back home... with tons of jewellery and cash laid on the ground. how did he get in, you ask? well obviously he has a spare key to your home! yeah yeah, he knows you haven't actually given him a new key and that you changed your lock two days ago but it was so painfully easy to just copy your key!

he couldn't just not make a copy, could he? you know he has to have access to you at all times! he gets antsy when he doesn't!

ah, your door is opening!

he grins happily, giggling excitedly as he sits by your couch, looking at the door in excitement.

"darling! i missed you!"

he moans, cheeks flushed as he stares at your stunned figure. however, his happiness gets replaced by worry as you slip on the money he laid down your hallway. oops... maybe he shouldn't have flooded your house in cash?

"darling! oh no... sre you alright?"

he pouts, immediately rushing to your side as he brushes the money away from your body. ah look at you! your face is all terrified... you must've been so so scared without him, weren't you?

"i promise I won't leave you again... just look at you!"

he mumbles, shaking his head disapprovingly as he picks you up and expertly maneuvers his way through your cash flooded apartment.

"what would you do without me?"

he sighs, cradling you to his chest as he sits on your couch and begins wiping away his faux tears with a wad of cash. that's right! what would you do without him? you were just so fragile and helpless! you'd suffer without his protection! he swears never to leave you alone again!

meanwhile, you were just silently smashing your head against the wall. god, your escape attempt failed again! maybe you should just escape to a foreign country next time. hm, maybe you should change your name to josh and alter your appearance too.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Charlie: "Dad. Don't freak out now. But it turns out my girlfriend is...."

Lucifer: "? Lesbian, yes?"

Charlie: "...an angel."

Lucifer: "Oh I KNOW she is Char-char! Just look at her!"

Charlie: "You whuh?"

Vaggie: "It's- it's not that obvious! ...is it?"

Lucifer: "Aww Maggie, anyone who's known you for two minutes could see that you're just the sweetest most angelic girlfriend."

Charlie: "Oh noo..."

Vaggie: "Uhhh. How, sir?"

Lucifer: "Why, the way you look at Charlie! All soft and gooey! Like caramel melting on an apple!"

Vaggie: "Oh."

Charlie: "No dad I didn't mean 'angel' as in she's sweet like an angel or pretty like angel- I mean! She IS pretty! The most pretty!! Gorgeous, stunning-"

Vaggie: "Getting off topic babe."

Charlie: "We mean it literally. Dad, Vaggie's an angel. Vaggie?"

Vaggie: (wings go floomf)

Lucifer: ".........."

Lucifer: "...."

Lucifer: "Oh." (tears up) "Wowzer."

Vaggie: (PANIC) "Shit oh shit, Charlie- Charlie I made your dad cry-"

Charlie: "H-happy tears, right dad!? Happy tears!"

Lucifer: "Oh, yes. It's only. Standing like that. You two, you look a lot like..." (clears throat) "Golly!"

Charlie: "We look at lot like...?"

Lucifer: "A whoooole lot of happy! Just. Wow! HA!"

Vaggie: "Are you okay sir?"

Lucifer: "Am I okay- are YOU okay??? How did you get down here, Maggie! And without anyone telling me! I would've LOVED to have helped- errr ah well, or at LEAST given you a place to crash- oh GOSH not the best word choice is that ha ha oops! Um!"

Vaggie: "It's alright sir. Charlie kinda... took care of all that. And, me."

Charlie: "She was Exorcist. She is NOT like that anymore. She left them all on her own, and they- they just left her here."

Lucifer: "An Exorcist? One of Lilith's ex's scary vengeance ladies?"

Charlie: "Dad-"

Lucifer: "OHHHH THAT IS HILARIOUS- oh Lili would LOVE this- did you leave him too? The-"

Vaggie: "First dick? Yeah."

Lucifer: "HIGH FIVE! Ooh ooh AND DOWN LOW! Oh haha, I haven't done that part since Charlie was still my size!!!"

Charlie: "Daaaaad..."

Lucifer: "So you left Adam like Lili did and you're dating a demon like I was and you're and angel like me and- oh do you. Do you miss heaven? Are you, trying to get back...?"

Vaggie: "No. I like it here."

Lucifer: "Preferring and happier in hell, another point like Lili! But why?"

Charlie: "She didn't exactly have the best time up in heaven."

Vaggie: "No shit. You weren't up there."

Charlie: "Vaggieeee."

Lucifer: "Youuuuu're looking at her all melty and sweet again~"

Vaggie: "Anyway sir, we just wanted you to know."

Lucifer: "Well gee whiz I sure hope you kids didn't stress over tell me! This is PERFECT!"

Charlie: "It is?"

Lucifer: "Of course it is! Maggie." (takes Vaggie by the shoulders) "Do you know what all of this means?"

Vaggie: "...that i can... keep dating... your daughter..?"

Charlie: "Vaggie of course you c-"

Lucifer: "YOU WERE DESTINED TO BE MY DAUGHTER-IN-LAW!" (hugs her) "You're like a perfect mix of me and Lili! It's like creation made someone specially to understand our daughter- and it's YOU! Charlie's matching other half, her soulmate- exactly the right wife for her!"

Vaggie: "Your- wait- HER-?"

Demon Charlie: "DAAAAAAAAAAAAD!!!!!"

Lucifer: "Two beautiful brides!" (sniffles) (pulls charlie into the hug and cracks them both like glow sticks) "So! When's the wedding!?"

[fioiswriting]

Reunion | oneshot

Summary : After the Battle Above the Gods Eye, Daemon returned victorious. Aemond was presumed dead, though his body was never found. Three years later, you've mourned your former husband and are ready to move on. But it seems that some ghosts from your past have come back to haunt you, and that the dead aren't really dead after all...

[Part 2]

Rating : Explicit 18+, MDNI

Pairing : Aemond x Velaryon/Strong!niece!Reader, implied Cregan Stark x Reader (you can interpret them as lovers or not). Reader is Rhaenyra and Harwin’s daughter so I imagined her with dark hair like Jace, Luke and Joffrey but feel free to imagine her as you want of course &lt;3

TW : unprotected sex, breeding kink, mention of characters death, angst, possessiveness, p in v sex, oral m receiving, praising kink, dom/sub undertones, mention of war, AU where the Blacks won the war, Alys Rivers (but no cheating), Reader has a child, grief, light choking, not proofread.

Words count : 7600

Author's notes : Hi everyone !! Sooo I’m posting my first ever fanfic on here, my first x reader and my first fanfic for Aemond. I’m very anxious haha But well, this fanfic is heavily inspired by a RP that has been going on for months with my wonderful gf <3 She writes Aemond so well I swear and now she’s making me fall in love with Cregan too haha oops whatever. Some of Aemond’s lines in this fanfic are hers so of course the credits go to her 💕 Long story short the reader’s backstory is inspired by my OC! The plot doesn't make any sense but whatever

Also English is not my first language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes !!

Enjoy 🖤

I don't know what I'm supposed to do Haunted by the ghost of you Oh, take me back to the night we met The night we met - Lord Huron

The snow had covered the landscape of Winterfell in a thin white layer so similar to ash, and the image tugged at your heart for a moment. Ashes. Fire. War. It was strange, the stillness that had followed the fury of screams and blood, of fire and ash, the constant anguish and pain of loss. It was like a long howl and then sudden silence. Life had resumed its course, the earth and the grass nurtured in red, as if nothing had happened, and that still irritated you sometimes, three years later.

For this peacefulness was a constant reminder of your life before. Before the war, before your own family ripped itself apart from within, before you lost him. There was something bitter in the thought that, in an alternate reality, you would have been happy with him by your side. The night brought its share of sweet dreams, lulled by the embrace of his arms, and you closed your eyes with ease, hoping to see his face again, which was fading day by day, desperately clinging to the details that made him.

It had been the best solution, you knew. 

For there was no reality in which he could live as much as you wished for. And you had accepted your duty by straightening your shoulders, silencing your heart, digging your thumbnail into the inside of your wrist. Your stepfather had said he was dead; he had seen Vhaegar fall from the sky, wounded.  He had seen the huge dragon crash into the water with all its weight. He had waited, and no silver hair had returned to the surface. He had searched and no body had been found.

So, he had returned, triumphant, with the conclusion that Aemond Targaryen was dead.

The room had swayed around you, but your fingers on the hard, rough wood of the table had kept you grounded. You had nodded, unsure, your ears ringing, your teeth sinking into the flesh of your tongue to hold back the tears that were beading at the edges of your eyes.

You knew it was inevitable, perhaps even fair. But it still hurt.  It sill fucking hurt.

Daemon had reassured you by pointing out that you were now released from your marital obligation.  A marriage to him that you had hoped for, waited for, dreamed of in your younger years. A marriage you had despised, once forced into, once made captive, a prisoner to be used against your own mother. And then a marriage that you had loved, cherished even, when he had opened up to you, when he had changed, when he had revealed that soft side despite his rough edges.  And you loved him, truly. The childhood love, the shy love that had blossomed between laughter muffled behind the curtains, hand-in-hand runs through the Red Keep and reading session hidden under the library table, had been rekindled.  Raw, devouring, bruised by war, but more powerful than ever.

Out of the corner of your eye you had caught a glimpse of the comforting gaze of your mother, the Queen, her gentle eyes searching for clues that would betray what you were feeling. It was she who had stroked your hair that evening, her presence welcome and soothing.

During the war, events had made you more uncertain than ever; blood and cheese had broken something in you. Suddenly shaken by the horrific actions of someone you hardly recognised, by the actions of your own family and the father figure who had raised you as his own daughter. You questioned your loyalties more than ever. Of course, you'd been devastated by Luke's death, your beloved little brother, so innocent, so sweet, and the despair you'd felt, the sadness, had gradually turned to anger. 

Your desire for revenge had fed on your rage, on your anger.

And in your quest for revenge, you had grabbed the dagger hidden in your bodice when you had kissed him, when you had poisoned him with your lips and your body pressed against his. Perhaps it was cowardice to do it on your wedding night, right after the pitiful ceremony in which you had been forced to exchange your vows of fidelity, the humiliation of the white, blue, red and green cloak around your shoulders.  Perhaps it was cowardice to wait for him to surrender to your touch, hard with desire, before plunging the blade straight into his heart.

But you didn't do it, in the end, the humiliation of your failure burning in your cheeks, and you had seen the horrible reality in the icy eye fixed on you: he was expecting it.  He knew. He had anticipated you, as usual, one step ahead of you, ahead of your plans. And the humiliation was all the more bitter.

First he had defied you, knowing full well that you couldn't do it, despite your momentary hesitation. Then he had wiped away your tears, the sound of metal echoing off the floor as he captured your lips with his own. 

And both you and he had sought to release the accumulated tension in the comfort of your naked bodies, in the rough, demanding thrusts.

You weren't quite sure when your relationship had changed. When he had become more forgiving. When he had trusted you. When he had become gentle. When you had felt him slipping away, subtly, almost imperceptibly. When you had begun to seek comfort in his arms, to seek the warmth of his body, to seek his love on his lips.

You loved him.

So you spent the nights lying awake in fear. Fearing the moment when you would have to make a choice. Fearing the moment when you would have to betray.

Which side would you choose when both armies were coming towards you, carrying the same flags, the same weapons, both calling your name?

Anxiety had spread its roots in the pit of your stomach, crescent moons in the palms of your hands. You felt as if you were losing your mind.

But the choice had been forced upon you without you having to make it. You had accepted it, as your duty demanded, as your loyalty to your family demanded.

Life at Winterfell wasn't so bad, quite the opposite in fact, despite the cold and snow you weren't used to. Cregan Stark was a good man. He had given you time and space to grieve, and had opened the castle gates to you with kindness. You had decided that you could get used to the cold and the snow, to the stone and the rustic wood, so different from the refineries of the capital, but infinitely warmer.

It was your choice, your departure for Winterfell.  Dragonstone was still haunted by the ghost of Luke, by the ghosts of Joffrey and little Aegon and Viserys and Rhaenys and all the family members you had lost.  King's Landing was haunted, too. By your sweet aunt and her cries of despair, by Aegon's descent into madness, by the humiliations you had so gracefully endured, by the recurring announcements of deaths, by the smell of the innocents’ blood, by the pitiful looks of Alicent, who had seen in you the image of herself a few years earlier, powerless and manipulated.

But above all, it was haunted by him.

The weight of the memories had become unbearable and you needed to leave.

You chose Winterfell, hoping the cold would help you forget. And Jace had come with you, his thumb caressing the back of your hand with affection, always the protective, reassuring big brother he was to you.  Probably glad to see his friend again, too. Your friend, to both of you.

But forgetting was something you'd never really been able to do, even less with the last memory he'd left you.

Now, just over three years later, you felt ready to return to King's Landing to visit your parents, to face the demons of your past and to mourn once and for all. It was inexplicable, perhaps a little strange, but you felt the need to go back.

On his first dragon ride, Rhaegar clapped his hands along the way, nestled into your arms in front of you, closing his eyes as the wind ruffled his dark curls. Midnight, your dragon, as pleasant as ever, as easy and gentle as ever, took care to be careful with the two of you on his back.

When you arrived, Rhaenyra hugged you as tightly as she'd ever hugged you, her nose buried in your thick hair, before bending down to take her grandson in her arms.

"I've missed you, sweet girl." she said to you. You smiled and reached for her arm, glancing at your son who'd grabbed one of your mother's long silver curls: "Daemon has missed you too. You know he doesn't show his feelings, but... he missed you." 

You smile, your eyes dropping to the floor.  You missed them, too, terribly, despite the frequent letters.

"And of course... we’ve missed you too, little one!" Rhaenyra added, catching the child's nose with her thumb and forefinger, causing him to burst into laughter.

It felt good to be back.  It was good to have regained some sort of routine in your daily life with your family. It was good to see the walls of the Red Keep return to their original familiarity, chasing away the ghosts you feared you might see again.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Perhaps you should have listened to your stepfather and not stray under any circumstances from the knight who has been following your every step with concern, afraid to lose sight of you. 

Five years earlier, it was Sir Erryk's vigilance that you had deceived when you had carelessly followed your eldest uncle into the dangerous streets of the capital.

The streets of King's Landing offered you a freedom you had missed. But now you almost regret sneaking through the crowds to escape the vigilance of the knight who had escorted you. You decide to take a shortcut, the hood of your cloak pulled down over your forehead.  It must have been your imagination.  You aren’t on the worst side of the city, not like five years ago, and the streets have become safe, much safer now that your parents are in power.

Your footsteps led you to some stone steps, which you climb at full speed, your heart pounding in your chest.  Glancing behind you, you disappear like a shadow around the corner of an alley, but the feeling is still there. You feel as if you are being followed.

At the Red Keep you already had the unpleasant feeling of being observed. In the gardens, with your son. Along the ramparts, enjoying the sea breeze on your face.

But you blamed it on your body's automatic response to the anxiety that had built up in all the years you'd spent within the walls of the Keep.

You slow your pace as you spot the dome and towers of the Great Sept at the end of the alley. From there you can easily find your way back to the Red Keep. All you had to do is keep moving, staring ahead, pressing your pace, wrapped in the thick wool of your cloak.

One step after the other. Breathing deeply. Half-moons in your palms.

The Great Sept growing closer give you a strange kind of reassurance.

And then suddenly, one hand closes over your mouth, the other around your waist. Your back bangs painfully against the cold stone wall of the winding alley into which you have been dragged. Fuck. Fuck.

You are too paralysed to struggle, too paralysed to bite the hand of the stranger holding you prisoner between the wall and his own body.

"You obviously learned nothing from my advice, Lady Strong," the icy voice whispers in the hollow of your ear. Your eyes widen. 

That voice. It couldn't be.

Lady Strong. Lady Strong. Lady Strong.

It can’t be.

That is your sick mind playing tricks on you again.

"As reckless as ever, hm, aren't you? You could easily get yourself killed."

The stranger releases you and you look up again, tears forming at the corners of your eyes, searching for that icy blue, tinged with lilac, that have read through you so many times before.

It is impossible.

He has died three years before, falling from Vhaegar's back into the deep waters of the lake at Harrenhal.

Is it a ghost? Is it a hallucination?

"You are dead. You were dead," you whisper, more to yourself than to him, still in shock from the feel of his body against yours. You feel the tears that have formed at the corners of your eyes roll down your cheek, and your little fists pound his chest.

You have so much to say to him. So many things to reproach him for.

His hand cups your cheek to turn your head and force you to look at him, his thumb wiping away your tears. 

The way he looks at you hasn’t changed; it still makes you shiver. You still feel that your uncle could read through you, that he could discover your deepest secrets.  And there is still that hint of desire, too, that gleam in his one seeing eye.

You want to kiss him. You want to slap him.

He clenches his jaw as he pulls you against him, burying your face in his chest, his arms around you. He rests his chin on your head. One of his hands strokes your dark hair as you stifle sobs into the wool of his cloak.

The situation takes you back to your wedding night, when he had comforted you in the same way after you had told him that you couldn't hate him, even if you had tried.

"I know," you hear him whisper, the vocal cords vibrating from his throat against the top of your head.

He is standing there, in front of you. You cling to the fabric of his clothes with all your might, as if you're afraid he'll slip away again.

"How?" you ask, eyes closed, head against him. If he is to be taken from you again, you intend to enjoy every moment in his company. 

He clenches again. You step back to look into his eyes, to search his enigmatic gaze for answers, for clues, for signs that would explain how. Why.

He doesn't answer you, but he is filled with desire as he grips your chin between his middle and index fingers, as he captures your lips with his own. You rediscover the possessiveness you've been missing. He pushes you a little harder against the wall behind you, as if to remind you who you belong to. Who you were married to.

A familiar warmth blossoms between your thighs, a warmth you haven't felt for too long. You're trapped, right there, your uncle towering over you, trapped between the wall and his body. His fingers close around your jaw and you kiss him back hungrily, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer.

You're perfectly aware that the situation is surreal.  You're perfectly aware that you're making a mistake, that you shouldn't respond to the kiss of the man who used to be your husband, not when he's technically still your enemy, not when he's technically dead. 

But you shut out the voices in your head begging you to stop.

"I still want to hate you, you know," you breathe between his parted lips. He merely mutters hm in reply, trying to shut you up again, his hands wandering under your cape, tracing the ribs of the body he'd missed so much. He reaches for your waist, your hips, which he grabs meanly. 

There's no one in the alley around you, but the hood over his head hides his long silver hair anyway. 

"Three fucking years." Your lips leave his, a mixture of anger and desire bubbling up from your lower belly. Aemond stares at you, his jaw clenched. He knows you need to unleash your emotions when you don't read an ounce of regret in his gaze. "Three. Fucking. Years. And you've told me nothing. You never sought to -"

"I couldn't," he retorts harshly. He seems to be searching for words to explain something you could not possibly understand, but his gaze does not soften. You know he needs time, you've learned to know him.  You've waited three years, what's another moment? But you're tired, and your patience isn't as strong as it used to be.  You look away, a mocking laugh escaping your lips as you repeat his justification. "You couldn't." 

"And risk your mother executing me?" He forces you to look at him again, and you feel the lump form in your throat. You know you are perhaps being unfair, but you were alone for those three years while you mourned him, so alone, and in a way, you want to make him pay.

"You were dead to me, qybor." Uncle. You feel him twitch at the mention of your family tie, at the nickname he used to love to hear on your tongue. "I had to live with the idea that you would never come back."

The tears that had dried on your cheeks threaten to flow again, pooling at the corners of your eyes. Aemond sighs. 

"I thought I was dead too," he whispers. You can feel the tension in every one of his muscles. There's a moment of hesitation, a silence that hovers between you.  You have so many questions, but you don't know where to begin.  Not a sound leaves your lips.

"She tended to my wounds," he adds, and you frown in confusion. "Alys."

Alys. You try to wriggle out of his grip, but he keeps you pinned to the wall.  Alys, you remember the rumours whispered in your ear by that rat of Larys - those false rumours, you remind yourself -  but you can't help feeling your heart clench.  You don't trust your voice enough to speak, to say anything.

"There's no one left in Harrenhal but her," he adds, as if you need that clarification, as if you need to know where he's been all this time. 

You say nothing. Your throat is tight. If you speak, if you look at him, you'll cry again and betray your feelings all over again. You refuse to make a fool of yourself, not now.

"She's the one who saw you. In Winterfell." There's a hint of bitterness in his voice as he mentions the place where you've spent the last few years rebuilding yourself, trying to forget him.  A bit of anger, perhaps, too.

"Cregan Stark welcomed me indeed," you reply curtly.  Perhaps you want to hurt him as he hurt you, but you are deliberately vague in your answer. "I have mourned you, qybor."

Everything is so confused in your mind.  A paradoxical blend of desire, anger, sadness, jealousy.  Of love too.

You want to strangle him and melt on his lips at the same time, and you know that after all this time you should be used to feeling this paradox of emotions with Aemond. Your uncle was a set of contradictions all his own.

"I saw you. On Midnight. That's how I knew you were here."

You nod. Words don't work between you, you know that. It has always been like that; the habit of letting silence speak more than words. The habit of communicating through the carnal acts of your bodies against each other. *** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Aemond pushes you against the wooden door as soon as you enter the mediocre room of the inn. He is demanding, more than ever, as his hands run along your hips to your thighs to lift you up and press you against the door, your legs closing around him. He watches you with hungry eyes, like a predator ready to pounce on its prey. You can't stop a moan from escaping your lips. 

There's something feverish, passionate, urgent about the kiss. And when his tongue begs for an opening, your lips part to welcome him. There is only you in this room, an interlude where nothing else exists, where you don't have to worry about your duties and loyalties, where you are guided by nothing but passion.

His hand slams against the wall next to your head and with a movement of his hips he lifts you a little higher onto his waist, your legs locked tightly around him. He grunts into the crook of your neck at the friction of your crotch against his.

"Tell me to stop." His hand which isn't against the wall to support your weight slides up to your jaw. He lifts your chin, his gaze locked in yours, searching for clues, anything that would betray your desire to end whatever it is you're doing. "Tell me to stop now, or I won't be able to."

You don't want to stop. You should, you know you should, but you silence the little voice in your conscience that's begging you to pull yourself together, to end it all before you've even started, before you've even gone too far, and you kiss him with more vigour, with more fervour.

"I'm not going to tell you to stop, qybor," you whisper against his lips. "You know that."

His hardened member twitches beneath you at the mention of the High Valyrian, at the mention of that nickname he's so fond of. It's his weakness, you know, and despite the three years he's been away, he hasn't changed.

It's so good to feel him against you again, to feel his lips against yours, along your jawline to the junction with your neck. In one sharp movement, he rolls his hips to meet yours, pressing you a little harder against the wooden wall, and he catches your moan between his lips.

You know that tonight there will be no shy touches between you, no awkward explorations like in the early days of your love, when it wasn't tainted by war, blood, and death yet. You and he will both be consumed by the burning fire of passion.   You both need to release that tension and frustration, to make up for lost time, to drown, drunk with desire, in the most carnal of acts. All that matters now are his hands on your body to ease the pain pulsing between your thighs, the desperate need to feel him inside you. 

The barrier of your clothes frustrates you. You need to feel his skin against yours, to feel all of him, and your hand runs down his body to pull at the cord holding his breeches together. Immediately his fingers close around your wrist to hold you back. He wants to be in control, you know. But it has been three years and something about you just isn't the same.

"Let me worship you like I used to, qybor," you whisper against his lips, your forehead pressed against his, and you feel his jaw tighten. There's a moment of hesitation in his eyes, clouded by desire.

His thumb caresses your lips, pressing against your lower lip. You part them, just enough for the tip of your tongue to wet the top of his thumb. There are no further words exchanged between you, just silence, punctuated by your gasping breaths. His hand closes around your throat, not pressing too hard, just enough so you can feel the weight of his palm against your windpipe, just to remind you that he's in complete control of the situation.

Fuck, you've missed it; the adrenaline of his hand around your throat, the adrenaline of knowing he could do anything to you and you'd be defenceless.

"On your knees then."

The command echoes through the room and you feel the wetness seeping between your thighs as you slide to your knees in front of him. Your eyes shine with envy and you look up at him as you did years ago. You know he can't resist the angelic look on your face when you're between his thighs. You know he can't resist the dichotomy between the innocent look on your face and the sinful act you're about to commit.  He revels in your submission, and that's something you've learned to use against him.

Your uncle releases his cock from his breeches, his hand wrapped around the base, and the desire you feel between your thighs becomes more and more unbearable. The head is already glistening with anticipation, white pearls beading at the slit, and it takes all of Aemond's self-control not to grab you by the hair and force himself into your mouth entirely. 

Closing the distance, he rubs his member against your lips to spread the wetness before pushing into your mouth. Your lips close around him. He's warm and heavy on your tongue and the hand holding the base of his manhood is replaced by yours to cover what you can't take. Your tongue curls around the tip first, absorbing his salty taste, and you look up at him through your long lashes. He doesn't look away from you.

His hand cups your cheek, his thumb caresses your cheekbone before sliding to the corner of your lips, just where his length disappears between them. It's as if he's hypnotised by the spectacle, by the bobbing of your head, by your hollowed cheeks, by your application and devotion. 

His hands leave your jaw and sink into your thick curls, urging you to take him a little deeper, and he thrusts between your lips with more vigour. You close your eyes, concentrating on not choking as his member touches the back of your throat. You take it as diligently and assiduously as ever, ignoring the tears gathering at the corners of your eyes.

"That's it, just like that. Such a good girl, mandianna [niece], such a good wife," you hear him grunt, his movements more erratic, more jerky, and you revel in his praise, sending a new wave of heat between your thighs. "Only for me."

You feel him throb on your tongue. You know it won't be long now, and you prepare yourself to welcome him, to let the salty taste of his seed flood your tongue, but your uncle pulls back reluctantly. 

"I would rather not waste." he whispers, his eyes riveted on the thread of saliva that connects your lips, glistening with saliva and precum, to the tip of his cock. You shudder. Aemond definitely hasn't changed much, you realise.

His hand finds your cheek again and he caresses your lips to spread the mess you've made by sucking him. You know he isn't finished. This is just the beginning and you're both driven by the consuming hunger of passion. You know what's coming now, your core clenching around nothing, and you rub your thighs together, in an attempt to soothe the impatience. 

He urges you to stand. He has that predatory look in his eyes as he closes the distance between you with his determined steps. 

" Undress," he orders, and you do not take your eyes off him as you untie the linen dress you had put on to disguise yourself as a common girl.

The garment falls heavily to the floor, forming a grey puddle at your feet, and you take a step forward.

"Do you not like seeing me dressed in rags, qybor?" you ask in a playful tone, teasing, referring to the time, years ago, when he had rescued you during your adventurous walk along the grim Silk Road where your uncle Aegon had accidentally led you. 

The memory was so close and yet so far away.

Aemond takes a step towards you, his hand brushing aside the long hair that hides your breasts to tuck it behind your shoulder.

"Not when you are meant to be my Queen." His eye glow with desire. He studies your body in detail as his fingers slide down your collarbone to your breasts. His thumb traces their underside before moving up to your nipples, hardened by the cool evening air and desire. He plays with them, eliciting a moan that satisfies him.  He looks at you like one looking at a prize, a long-awaited gift.

"Three years away from my beautiful wife," he whispers, his good eye gleaming as he looks at your breasts.

"You did have pleasant company in Harrenhal though, didn't you?" you hiss through your teeth and Aemond's hand suddenly closes around your throat to make you swallow your insolence.  You're not afraid, not anymore, for you know he won't hurt you. You have this power over him and it's delicious. 

His face is so close to yours that your noses are touching. 

He doesn't let go of you. 

"It wasn't like that." He whispers. "With her." You know he's sincere because he's almost awkward with his words, his explanation. You can see in his eye that there are so many other things he would like to tell you, but you have learned not to rush him.  It has always been difficult for him to open up, to be vulnerable.

His fingers release you. Aemond is a good head taller than you, and as he puts a hand on your shoulder, moving forward to force you back until your knees hit the mattress, your eyes remain fixed on his. 

Your uncle lays you down on the mattress. It's not the comfort of the bed you once shared, but you don't care, you just need him inside you. 

You need him to make you feel whole again. Aemond was fire, and you were willing to burn for him.  You had always burned for him.

In the candlelight of the small bedroom where you spend the night, you see his thumbs slip under the waistband of his breeches. His clothes quickly join yours on the floor.

There's something soothing about the weight of his naked body on top of yours. Once under him, you know you can surrender completely to him and stop thinking, just stop thinking.

His lips on yours, his hands on your body, his broad torso eclipsing your smaller figure.

He places kisses down your neck to your collarbone, sucking your skin between his teeth to leave purple marks that will blossom tomorrow. 

He kisses your breast, his lips closing around an erect nipple which he sucks gently, then around the other.  Your hands are buried in his long silver hair.  You can feel how wet you are between your thighs. You need him desperately, right there.

The confidence with which his fingers slide down your waist, from your hips to your inner thighs, only emphasises his ravenous expression. His touch on your folds sends a wave of heat through your body, causing your hips to move against his hand. Softly tracing the curves of your crotch, his index and middle fingers finally part your folds to collect the wetness that has formed there.

"Is it sucking your husband's cock that has got you so wet? 

Yes, you want to answer, seeking more contact, but the words are stuck in your throat.

"Stay still," he orders in a hoarse voice as you move your hips, his hands gripping your hips to pin you back against the mattress. 

You comply, for once, because you know he won't give you what you want otherwise. And you can't wait any longer, not today, not when you thought you'd never feel his warmth against your body again, his hands on your hips, his cock inside you.

"You see, you can be a good girl." His voice is softer when you obey. And to reward you, his fingers slide to your entrance, where he applies a little pressure with the tip of his middle finger without actually penetrating you. "Now beg your husband to fill you."

"Please, qybor," you murmur, your hand taking his cheek to bring his face to yours. You want him to look at you. "Please, I need you inside."

Oh, the slowness and precision with which his finger plunges into you makes you throw your head back. He begins to move back and forth, his index finger joining his middle one, caressing your spongy walls, his thumb tracing circles around your bud. Curling his fingers, he strokes that spot inside you that makes your legs tremble and you clutch the sheets beneath you.

You feel your centre tighten around his fingers, the release you've been looking for so close, so very close. You shut your eyes, ready for the familiar wave of warmth to wash over your entire body, but your uncle pulls his fingers away. You grunt in frustration.

You open your eyes only to see Aemond bring his fingers to his lips indecently, spreading your wetness over his own lips. "You still taste so good," he purrs, and you feel the blush rise to your cheeks.

He leans over to kiss you and you taste yourself on his lips. It's indecent.

He pulls back and you see him wrap his hand around his hardened cock, the head angrily red and already drooling in anticipation. He guides himself to your core, rubbing his length between your folds, coating it with your glistening juices. 

The round tip of his member enters you, slowly at first, stretching your narrow entrance as if to give you time to adjust. Aemond pushes and he sinks easily into you until he's fully seated, your warm, wet walls feeling heavenly around him, squeezing him just right.

" You are so tight," he growls against you as your arms close around him, your legs bent and pressed to either side of his body. 

He gives you a moment to get used to having him inside you again, to feeling him so deeply. It's exactly what you need; he stretches you deliciously, with a perfect touch of controlled pain.

You feel whole again and you want to cry.  You never want to lose that feeling. You want to keep him, against you, inside you.

You close your eyes and bury your head in the hollow above his shoulder, clinging to him as if to feel him more deeply, more intimately.

"You can move," you reply, rolling your hips to support your words. Aemond's hand immediately presses down on your stomach to hold you against the mattress and you bite your lower lip, almost guilty of forgetting his earlier command. He always has that need to control. He's the one who decides, you should know it after all these years, and you should stop being so demanding, so desperate.

"I said stay still," he scolds you, and the waiting is unbearable. 

You need him. 

When he finally pulls out and thrusts into you again, you let out a whimper. Your nails dig into the pale skin of his back, leaving crescent marks that will probably still be there the next day.

Once under him, Aemond has the ability to make you vulnerable, and part of you hate him for it.

"You take me so well," he growls after a particularly brutal thrust. "You're such a good girl."

The praise is sweet music to your ears.  You have always needed it, to be praised, complimented.

You feel him hitting that special spot deep inside you, you feel him pressing in so deeply and your grip tightens around him.

"Did you miss me?" you whisper in a voice made weak by pleasure, but all you get in return are the hoarse grunts of his voice.

Aemond lowers his eyes to look at where you are joined, hypnotised by the sight of his cock disappearing inside you. The rhythm he imposes is powerful, deep, and his fingers find their way between your bodies, reaching your little bud at the top of your folds to trace circles on it. You won't last long and he knows it as he feels your walls tighten desperately around him. Your moans grow louder.

"Look at me." His voice barely brings you back to reality, even though your mind is already far away, even though you know you can't last much longer. Painfully, you open your eyes to meet your uncle's icy gaze. " I am going to fill you up." His pacing becomes more erratic, more sloppy, and you know he won't last much longer either. Leaning on his forearm, he continues to stroke your pearl in small circles. "I am going to fill you up and you're going to take it all."

The image of you, belly round with his child, haunts him.  It never stopped haunting him, even on the brink of death, even when he thought he'd exhaled his last breath as he fell into the icy waters of the lake, his heart clenched with regret and remorse. It still is a wonder that he has survived. Perhaps, just perhaps, the Gods still had plans for him.

I'm going to fill you up. Words like that shouldn't bring you to ecstasy, and yet they do. Aemond reaches deeper, and as he feels your whole body convulse with the spasms of your orgasm, he joins you in your release. He spills his seed deep inside you before remaining still, buried against your womb, enjoying your warmth, making sure he's pouring every last drop into you. 

He doesn't want to pull out, not yet, and you close your arms around his neck, your breast pressed against his chest as he softens inside you.

The weight of his body on yours is comforting.  For the first time in years, you feel alive. For the first time in years, the open wound he left seems to be healing.

When he pulls out, you wince at the sensation of his cock slipping between your still too sensitive folds. You immediately miss the feeling of fullness. 

You barely move, your whole body still sore from your lovemaking, but you can feel his cum leaking from your entrance onto the mattress below.

Again, Aemond's fingers are between your thighs that are glistening with the intimate essence of both of you, collecting his own seed and pushing it back into you.  You whimper, still too sensitive, your lips brushing against his, and he remains inside you for a brief moment. He wants to make sure nothing is wasted.

And when he withdraws his fingers, he presses them against your lips for you to clean them.

You snuggle up against him, your head against his chest. Your hand caresses his chest, the fine line of his muscles, and he rests his chin on the top of your head, wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you close. You enjoy the warmth of his body while you still can. Between your thighs you feel the sticky sensation of his seed mixing with your wetness as it still flows out of you, but you don't want to leave the embrace of his arms.

"I saw you in the gardens. With the child."

When you feel his throat vibrate, you look up at him, your eyebrows furrowed. "It was you, then?" You swallow. "It was you watching me." It's more of an observation than a question, and you suddenly understand that constant, uncomfortable feeling of being watched. At least you weren't crazy. 

He lets out a hm and pauses.

"Is he yours?"

You know where this question is leading. You fear the moment of truth.  You'd deluded yourself into thinking you could avoid it, but you were naive; did you really think you could hide the truth from him for much longer, now that he was back?

"Yes." You answer, looking away. You're nervous, and he can feel it.

"He's Cregan Stark's son, isn't he?"

Your heart clenches. You hesitate for a moment. You should lie.  You know you should lie.  To protect your son and your family, as you've protected them for the past three years.  You only need one word.

You hear him sighing beneath you, taking your silence as confirmation.

"No, he's not." 

The words leave your lips before you can even stop them. You hold your breath. Beneath you, Aemond tenses. He straightens, puzzled, silent.

"A bastard, then?" His voice is dry, almost mocking, revealing a form of irritation. "I did not expect this from you, dear niece." Disappointment.

You feel anger boiling inside you at the thought of him insulting your son, your sweet boy you love so much. You swallow the lump that has formed in your throat and rise on your forearms, your eyebrows furrowed as you turn your hard gaze on him.

You don't know how to express the words that are desperately trying to escape your lips. 

" He has blue eyes," you add, and you can see the confusion on his face. A lock of hair slips from your shoulder and falls around your face. "Your blue eyes."

You feel him tense up. He says nothing, just stares at you with his one seeing eye.  It's rare to see Aemond Targaryen so unsure of himself, so full of doubt. He stares at you as if he's afraid he's heard you wrong, as if he's afraid he's invented the words that have come out of your mouth.

"What did you say?"

You look away. You bite your lower lip, regretting your words.  You want to bury your face in his chest. You breath. 

"He is your son, Aemond." You finally admit it.

It's true that Rhaegar's brown curls could easily make him look like a Stark. Cregan had offered to raise him as his own, and you had smiled at his kindness.

Rhaegar is so much like you. Like you, and like Luke, and especially like Jace as a child, of whom he is the spitting image. He has the soft features of your face, but his eyes make him undeniably Aemond's son.

Your uncle holds you close, his arm wrapped around your waist, his long nose buried in the hollow of your neck, breathing in the scent of your hair.

"My son," he repeats in awe.  It's rare to see Aemond smile with sincerity.  Especially after the war has worn him down, made him more ruthless than ever.

"His name is Rhaegar," you say. "Just as we discussed." There's shyness in your voice.

He straightens, you on top, straddling him, and he seeks your lips to kiss you fiercely. His desire awakens beneath you; you feel him harden against your core again.

And this time, he makes love to you.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** *** 

"I missed the best part." He purrs against you, his hand absently caressing your breast before sliding down your body to rest on your flat stomach, just above where your womb lies. He clenches his hand possessively over your flesh. His voice is almost tinged with regret. Your hand rests on his.

"You shouldn't have left me," you reply, bitter. Deep down, you're still angry with him. Your gaze falls on your stomach, where both your hands lie, yours on top of his, clasped together. "You shouldn't have let your anger dictate your actions," you add, looking away. "But you were blinded by your desire for revenge, by your desire to prove that you could be better than him.” You swallow.

It is his fault, after all, that he missed your son's birth, that he didn't see him grow through the tender years of his infancy.

Rhaegar needed a father, and it was Cregan who raised him.

"Does he even know who I am? Who his father is?"

The guilty look on your face betrays you, and you know immediately that you've hurt his feelings. It may be selfish of you, but he needs to understand.

"You were supposed to be dead. There's still a lot he doesn't know." 

He doesn't say anything. You don't have the courage to meet his hard, stern gaze, you don't have the courage to see the disappointment and pain on his face, because if you do, your heart will tighten and you will fall apart.

"He's still so young. Give him time." You add, your fingers tracing small circles on the back of his hand, in an attempt to soothe him. 

You know how much Aemond wanted a son, and you know it's cruel to take that from him.  You know he would have made a good father. You can picture him with Rhaegar on his knee, reading him stories, telling him about the adventures of Vhagar and Visenya, and you love the image that forms in your mind.

You told Rhaegar about Aemond, though he was still too young to understand. You told him that his father had once owned the greatest dragon in the world, that his father was a fearless man for it was true, and you saw his big eyes light up. 

Aemond pulls you closer to him. "I want to be there for him, you know."  Unlike Viserys, but he doesn't have to say it, you understand what he means in the undertone he leaves at the end of his sentence.  He has always suffered from his father's indifference.

You cuddle up to him and he runs his fingers through your long curls. For a moment, you imagine that everything is fine and you search for his touch. He plants a kiss on the top of your head.

"I've missed you," he admits, the words landing on the tips of his lips in the silence of the bedroom, but you're already dozing off.

You know that tomorrow will be made up of choices and decisions. 

But for now, you fall asleep in the embrace of his very real arms, for once, enjoying the illusion of the life you both could have had.

[bunnys-kisses]

if I knew you write for jenson I would've ordered long time ago! can I get tiramisu with a side of champagne with jenson? (after he won his championship not very dilf yk)

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! there are tons of things to submit and i do accept orders outside of f1, so hit me with it!! as for this anon, thank you for submitting a jenson button order, haha. i do think it is very funny that you had to specify before his dilf era, haha. but thank you for the clarification. there is tons of dirty talk (oops)

tiramisu (“my little slut to ruin.”) + champagne (sugar daddy au) served by jenson button (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, sugar daddy au, 2009 era, dirty talking, driver's room sex/semi-public sex, mean!jenson, couch sex, clothed sex, panty ripping (oops)

you should've known that the moment jenson got his hands on the trophy, he was going to be all over you. you had went to see him at the final race of the season, and when it was clear that he was pulling through points wise. you should've taken your panties off under your skirt.

because jenson was going to rip them off of you.

the sound of tearing fabric filled the driver's room as he got you thrown over the back of the couch, your ass on display for him. he tossed the fabric away, no longer unusable as any kind of garment.

"i liked those!" you squeaked.

he chuckled as he groped his cock through his driver's suit, "you act like i can't buy you new panties. you dumb little slut, i pay for everything else."

you swallowed and arched your back a little more. you knew your place, it wasn't your fault. you let a formula one driver flash a bit of money in front of your broke student face and you followed him to the ends of the earth.

and now when he wanted to poke the base of your cervix with the blunt tip of his cock. you let him. like a good girl should.

he got out of as much of the suit as he could and got his cock out of his pants. it was a bit awkward, but he couldn't have the luxury of undressing both of you. not right before the press circus.

he gazed at your soaked cunt for a moment and licked his lips. he flipped the skirt of your dress up and sank into your pretty little cunt. it was an easy fit, he had trained his girl quite well. all to lead up to this moment, he got to celebrate his win with his cock buried in his girl.

it was perfect.

his hands on your hips, feeling the meat under his firm grip. he was practically fucking you face first into the couch. he just wanted to feel his beautiful slut. the pretty hole that he gets to fuck between races. originally this sugar daddy agreement was to help you pay for the nice school you went to in england.

but you haven't been on campus in over a year, why would jenson let you? you were prettier on his arm at events than in between the stacks of books. you were both only in your twenties, but he wanted to make sure that you couldn't get out of his grip.

eventually you'll go back to school. just later.

for now, it was about celebrating. and he was doing that while your pussy drooled around his cock. he panted heavily and continued his forceful thrusts. you were a dream to him, making the lust throb in his back of his head.

"my little slut.' he groaned, "but you know that, you know that you get a nice little payment in exchange for letting me ruin your pussy." his words were venomous but it made you see stars behind your eyelids.

you whimpered, "please, jenson." you arched your back a little to get a better angle of his cock pushing into your soaked cunt.

“my little slut to ruin.” he said, "right? all mine." he continued to thrust up into you. his force was tight and his tongue was loose. he wanted to make sure that you knew that you were a taken woman.

that he was the champion and you were the cute little thing that he sank his cock into. he held onto your hips tightly and battered his cock up against you.

"pretty thing." he said, "you know how to be good for me." he groaned a little bit. you were still on the track, and the driver's room was only so private. but his mouth still ran, "pay for your rent, your clothes, anything you need. and you in return let me make a mess of your little cunt. i guess it's only fair. i empty my wallet for you and i empty my balls in you." he chuckled a little as he felt the sweat on his back.

the adrenaline was still high.

you let out a small whimper and he continued to thrust into you. you felt so good enough him, like a proper fit. his pace was aggressive as he pushed you further into the couch.

sadly the sex couldn't last long as he had places to be with you on his arm. he was the world champion after all. he licked his lips at the sight of your pussy trying to accommodate his girth.

a sweet little thing you were. all his.

he gave it a few more heavy thrusts before he came inside of you. he buried his cock as deep as it would go inside of you. he felt hot all over in the clothes he was still in, but his core throbbed with a deep need for you.

"mine. my little slut." he groaned as he gripped the back of your head to keep you pinned under him. he hissed through his teeth before he slowed to a stop.

he kept his cock inside of you as his other hand worked at your clit. which made you freeze up, the pleasure melted in your brain like chocolate in the sun. you whined a little louder and he told you to shut up.

he played with your poor clit, already throbbing for a deep need. you covered your mouth with your hands as you curled up as you came. you tensed all over as it washed over you. then you relaxed over the back of couch. a bit of cum stuck to your pussy lips and jenson loved the sight of that.

a beautiful little slut.

he patted your bare ass cheek before he got the skirt of your dress over your ass. he chuckled a little, "better pray that it doesn't leak out of you. because if it does." his tone got a little darker, "i'll just have to put it all back in you."

he watched you try to compose yourself before you both had to get out in front of the cameras. he hoped that the press got a picture of his cum running down your leg. after all, he was number one and he was allowed to stake claim on your sweet pussy. <3

[mingis-orangejuice]

Love and Deepspace Boys with an MC that's good with children Part.2: Xavier

Summary: You and Xavier help a little boy find his mom. Xavier loves the thought of one day starting a family with you

a/n: this one was really cute, I almost made it way longer. i was gonna add so much more banter back and fourth with the cotton candy vendor but it would have made this fic super long

Genres/Warnings: just pure teeth rotting fluff

Word count: 831

Previous parts 1, 3, 4

You and Xavier were walking hand in hand down the streets of Linkon City. just enjoying each other’s company. You can hear faint crying coming from an alleyway. “Do you hear that?” you stop and hold onto Xavier’s arm for him to stop too.

“I don’t hear anything.” he pauses and cups his ear to try and hear better.

“It sounds like crying. I wonder where it’s coming from?” You start to follow the sound, Xavier close behind still trying to hear what you hear.

You turn down the nearest ally and see a little boy sitting on a box crying. You quickly move towards him. You bend down next to him “What's wrong buddy? Are you lost?”

Without saying a thing he grabs you into a hug and starts crying even more. Xavier standing behind you tries to ask again “Hey friend do you need us to help you find your way home, we’re Linkon City hunters and we’d love to help.” The boy stops crying for a moment and looks up at you two

“You’re hunters? That means you can help me find my mommy right? She’s lost and I don’t know where she is” His eyes start to well up with tears again

“Don’t worry hun” you say as you take a tissue out of your pocket to wipe his tears. We’ll definitely find your mommy, hunters are always here to help.” You say with a smile. You pick him up, stand and you all head out of the alley. 

“What does your mommy look like?” you ask the boy.

“She’s really pretty, just like you,” he said squeezing your cheeks together

You laugh “and what else? Is she tall, or short, what colour is her hair?

“Umm she’s tall and has long black curly hair, and umm…” he says trying to think of more descriptors.

“So when did you last see her?” Xavier interrupted

“I don’t know, we went to the market together and I said I wanted cotton candy from the cotton candy stall and I went to go get some but then Mommy disappeared.” the boy explained

“Hmm, so we’re looking for a tall curly-haired lady at a cotton candy stall.” at this point, you 3 are now just across the street from the open-air market and it's swarming with people “This is gonna be harder than we thought.” Xavier thought out loud.

“What?” the boy says tears starting to form again. “I thought you said you were hunters and you could find my mommy?” the little boy starts to cry again. 

You shoot Xavier a look. “Why would you say that?” you lightly slap Xavier’s arm “We’ll definitely find your mom, don’t worry. Even if we have to search all night we’ll find her. You have my word as a hunter” 

The boy seemed to brighten up after that. You crossed the street and into the marketplace. You searched for about an hour when you came across the cotton candy vendor. “Oh hello, son did you come back with your mom and dad for more cotton candy? The vendor asked referring to you and Xavier. 

“No this isn’t my mommy and daddy, they’re hunters and they’re gonna help me find them. The boy informed.

“Oops I’m sorry, but…” the vendor looks at both you and Xavier. “Though, you have to admit you 3 make a cute family.”

Xavier’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink picturing being with you and your own baby as a little happy family. “Haha yeah I guess we do” he rubs the back of his neck

You look at Xavier and smile, but quickly get back to business and give the vendor the description of the boy’s mother, but before he can answer…

“There you are!” a voice from behind you calls out. You all turn around to see a lady just as the boy described.

“Mommy!!! The boy quickly reached out to his mom to hug her almost falling out of your arms, but thankfully she caught him. “These cool hunters helped me find you!” he exclaimed

His mom looked at both of you with a smile. “Thanks so much for helping him, Linkon City should be proud to have hunters like you two.” she thanks you again by buying you each some cotton candy and leaves with her son.

You and Xavier are now walking out of the market together eating your cotton candy. “That was nice of her,” you say looking at Xavier.

“Yeah next time we should help a kid next to a meat skewer stall” he laughs and you playfully nudge him. “But the vendor was right about one thing”

“What's that?” you turn to look at Xavier as he reaches for your hand.

“We did look like a family back there, it was nice.” he looks lovingly into your eyes for a moment.  “And hey, maybe if we come back as a family he'll give us a discount” Xavier winks at you mischievously.

[raitonsfw]

Hello thank you so much you are the first person to answer my request and I just lovedddddd it .

Another request with gojo where they are married for like 2 months and things are kind of stiff cause it is arranged marriage but then one day he sees that a group are guys ate harassing his wife everyday as she takes the train . He asked her why she did not tell him about it and all and she says cause she thought he might even listen and stuff and things get spicy and it's his wife's first ever relationship.

I know this is big if you don't like it ignore it .

Thank you

𝚠𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚘𝚒𝚍 | 𝚐𝚘𝚓𝚘 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚞

synopsis: Gojo wasn’t the best husband and you weren’t the best wife, the discomfort of the arranged marriage taking a toll on the both of you. Two months in and he hasn’t even held your hand, let alone made a move on you– something you so desperately craved. It wasn’t until he saw two men shove you against the wall on the train that his natural husband instincts kicked in, the men dangling by their collars over the speeding blurry tracks. All he wanted to do now was protect you, shield you from the cruel world with a blindfold of your own, and maybe dry your tears with the comfort of his dick.

warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, fem!reader, virgin!reader, wife!reader, husband!gojo, arranged marriage, clan mentions, cursing (a lot of it oops), angst, yearning, emotions (a lot of emotions), crying, hurt/comfort, insecurity (marriage wise), gojo basically ignores reader for the first two months (not for reasons you think though), quiet arguments, first time, cunnilingus, blowjob, cum swallowing, fingering, p in v intercourse, dirty talk, he’s rough in the beginning cuz he’s selfish, creampie, aftercare, slight mention of future children (just a sentence or two), petnames (sweetheart, honey, baby).

trigger warnings: harassment; reader is cornered constantly by two men on a train. some instances of harassment include yanking the readers arm to get their attention, reader getting burned by a cigarette after trying to fight back, & reader being pushed up against the wall with ill intent.

a/n: imagine him in (this) cuz holy shit, i love this outfit on him. i got extremely carried away IM SO SORRY. haha also gojo says something incredibly corny during sexy time and i was going to change it but it made me laugh too hard just imagining him saying it so i kept it. i don’t think ive ever written this much in one sitting in my entire life. wc: 8k. m.list

divider credit: @benkeibear

Two months. 

Two months you’ve endured this situation, your body basically as stiff as a board as you shared a bed with one of the most respected clan members in Tokyo. Ever since you said yes to that question, that damned question you thought you never would’ve heard in this standing– ‘Do you take Gojo Satoru to be your lawfully wedded husband?’ Your whole world fell apart. After all, it was an arranged marriage and you did not know this man in the slightest. All you knew was his power, told to you by your clan specifically and what he had accomplished over the span of twenty-something years. 

It wasn’t meant to be like this, the distance that scraped the surface of your marriage. Gojo should’ve warmed up to you by now, as well as vice versa, but there was still a wall built between the two of you. 

You didn’t really know the aspects of a relationship either as you’ve never been allowed to date due to the conditions of your clan; that you were to marry someone from the Gojo clan when you turned twenty-one. Unfortunately, you didn’t have many options as Satoru had been the last one standing by the grace of his inherited traits. 

Because of your ignorance, you couldn’t quite gauge if this type of distance was a normality within marriage. Were you to just stick by him through thick and thin when he hasn’t even so much as kissed you since your last shared moment at the wedding venue?

Was this really marriage? Or were you just a placeholder for the potential of your clan, an offspring bearing Satoru’s inviolable power?

Sneaking out of the bed carefully, you tiptoed downstairs of the shared loft and sat against the sofa with your knees tucked into your chest. You contemplated turning on the television for some white noise but you didn’t want to wake Gojo up, in fear he might yell although he’s never done that. You deduced that he wasn’t a tyrant, the speculation blending in on days where he’d come home tired but he would still have a gentleness laced within his voice as he whispered a quiet ‘hello, how was your day?’ to you.

Gentle yet not an ounce of intimacy had ever shone through, his body nearly melting into a warm bath everytime he moved past you after formalities. He would barely speak to you for the rest of the evening as he went about his routine. You thought maybe his missions just took up his entire mind, it was his success story after all; his life had been blasted throughout Japan due to his aspects. But then you’d noticed his time away from home with his friends, karaoke bars dredging up on his bank statements. 

Which brought you to think maybe he was an alcoholic and he couldn’t you know… get it up. 

It was fairly common for alcoholics to become inept in sex, so you couldn’t quite put it past him if that were the case. But then again, you’ve never seen him drunk. It was entirely possible that he could’ve sobered up by the time he arrived home. He never smelled of alcohol though, normally it would seep out of someone’s pores whether or not they had showered the pungent smell down the drain. But as he slipped into bed with the covers huddled against him after a night out, he’d smell of the shampoo you two shared with a fragrance of lilac surrounding the bedsheets. 

Your phone slipped from your hand with a loud thud and you flinched, cursing at yourself inwardly as you swiped down to pick it up. You prayed you didn’t wake Gojo up, as he had a long mission in the morning. But it was too late as you heard him rustle his way out of the sheets, a disgruntled yawn escaping him as he put on his slippers. The bedroom was open space within the loft, separated by a thin glass railing that someone could easily lean over which is exactly what he did. 

Gojo peered down at you, his tired eyes still filled with sleep. You could still see the radiance of them even from below, the piercing brightness that you swear you’ll never get used to. “Y/N? You’re not in bed.”

“I’m sorry Gojo, I didn’t mean to be so lou-” You started clumsily, fiddling with the stupid phone in your hands but he interrupted you quietly. 

“Satoru. Call me Satoru.” He reminded you with that same tenderness from before, that gentleness you couldn’t quite get past and your cheeks flushed red. “It's cold down there, isn’t it? Must be freezing.” 

Gojo padded down the stairs and you stood up as he draped a thin blanket onto your shoulders, shielding your body from the icy air that the winter had brought into the house. He headed for the restroom, his slippers shuffling against the hardwood floor and you made a note to buy yourself a pair; the fuzzy socks on your feet didn’t do you justice for the wretchedness of the season. You stared at the caved in reflection of yourself from the windowed wall, the trees dancing in the wind with their roots tucked safely underground. 

There was a river on this side of the house as well, the water edging up against the stones that had been laid out carefully to create a small pond for koi fish. A bridge elapsed over it and sometimes you sat against it, your feet dangling as you fed the fish while waiting for Gojo to return home. It was a funny feeling to have so much of his wealth staring back at you all of a sudden. 

“You still up?” Gojo asked, a bit puzzled as he stood against the light from the restroom. It veiled out into the living room and you were met with his silhouette crowding the doorway. He had his arm up against the doorframe and his eyebrows raised slightly as he stared at you. His shirt was hanging loosely off his body and some of the light illuminated his waist, the curves that travel down to his– 

He shut the light off and you couldn’t see him anymore except for the tufts of white hair sticking out like a sore thumb in the darkness. Moving towards the stairs, you ascended them as he managed to catch up to you. You didn’t notice the way he held out his hand, hovering over the small of your back to ensure you didn't stumble back. And even if you did, he’d be sure to catch you without so much as a thought whether he’d fall down the stairs with you. And if you both did manage to fall, a laugh would probably erupt out of him as you both sat there in bewildered pain.

Crawling into your side of the bed, you felt the cold rush of the sheets lying amidst the tangle of your limbs. You laid down with a quiet sigh, the moon thick amongst the clouds and you stared at it for a while. The other side of the bed creaked underneath his weight and you felt his body brush up against yours as he pulled the shared blanket over himself. You wanted nothing more than his arm to wrap around your waist, to pull you close and flush against him and you pouted when he turned his back to you. 

Gojo had fallen asleep the second his head hit the pillow and that meant he wouldn’t bother you for the rest of the night. Though, you kinda wished he did want to bother you. 

The morning came with the sunrise shielding your eyes as you awoke, the man next to you long gone and off to work. The first thing on your mind was breakfast, a delightful hope that maybe something could be made in the kitchen. But as you headed downstairs, the cabinets looked bare as well as the fridge with no intentions on filling themselves. A shopping trip apparently was needed today and you sighed heavily as you got yourself ready for the day. 

The train wasn’t very full, the morning commute having passed a few hours prior but you still had to stand near the edge of the sliding doors. Everything went to your liking at the grocery store, you had picked out a bunch of fruits, vegetables, and of course a few sweets for Gojo because you noticed the macaroons he had brought home one day, half eaten on his kitchen counter. You had watched him from the comfort of the bed, munching on them while scrolling through his phone, single-handedly eating the rest of the box in one sitting with a happy hum. That’s when you realized his sweet tooth, the bulk of it surviving off of straight sugared pastries.

As you headed towards the station, you had a nagging feeling there were eyes on you. A familiar sense surrounded you and you wondered why it felt like that; you pushed it out of your mind though. It was most likely someone checking out your attire, the adorned outfit clinging to your skin. It had enough detail pointing towards your midriff and your thighs encased in thin stockings, maybe someone had just been attentive today and wanted to ogle at you. It wasn’t like you could stop them. 

The train back was much more packed at noon and you had been squeezed into a corner, next to two guys that looked to be middle aged with cigarettes between their fingertips. This was an issue in your eyes, as you realized they were the same guys that had been harassing you before whenever you took the train home. You had ignored it the first few times, the music you had blasting in your ears enough for them to turn their heel but the past few days as you stepped out of the house to do your errands, it became much more demeaning. 

The first time it was a subtle nudge with their foot against yours, kicking it lightly to get you to pay attention to them. The next time it an arm grab as you hopped off the train, your feet just barely grazing the ground as you hauled yourself out past the doors. And now, you didn’t know what they would try this time as you failed to bring earbuds with you. It seemed as if the world didn’t care what happened to you when you left Gojo’s hell of a palace, the bypasser’s backs turned against your favor. The skirt you wore came past your midthigh and you clenched your hold on the pole a little tighter, shuffling some of your bags against your forearms wearily.

“Heading to the same place, doll?” One of them piped up, a sleazy smile lazed on his lips. You tried to ignore him, but he certainly noticed your lack of music and he got up from his seat in front of you. You tried to move backwards a bit, but there really wasn’t any space to do so.

“Yeah, we can escort you there this time. Seems to me you got a lot of bags.” The other one said as he also stood in front of you and you looked around the train, factoring in the exits and the fastest way to push through people. You also noted that almost everyone else was minding their own business, fucking assholes with their headphones and haughty misplaced morals.

As you decided whether or not to stand your ground, you noticed a tall figure in the back of the train car making their way forward with unhurried ease. Maybe you could ask them for help, whoever they were. Or maybe they were in cahoots with these men who had been harassing you, readying their attack from afar.

“Can you please leave me alone?” You asked firmly, trying to move away again from where they towered above you. You really weren’t liking your odds this time and a wave of fear rushed over you as one of them yanked some of your bags away, discarding them on the seat behind them.

“C’mon, looks like you need help today–” The first guy started, grabbing the groceries from your other arm and you pulled them back toward you harshly. The second guy had sat back into his seat, aiming to finish his cigarette instead of bothering you. The first guy kept a steady hand on you though, a bruised grip on you and it started to hurt; a dull throb had begun to overtake your arm.

“Please stop.” You pleaded, swinging the bag into him hard as he tried to deliberately yank it away again. Some of the items fell out of the bag and another hand on your arm gripped you harshly, pulling you down towards the man sitting. 

“Quit being so stubborn. You’re boyfriend’s not here to help you, huh?” The second guy cooed, holding you in place as the first guy went through the groceries on the floor. He huddled some into his jacket, unaware of his surroundings for a second and you used that to your advantage. Hitching your leg up, you kicked him directly in the abdomen and he doubled over in pain, the groceries falling from his pockets.

“You little bitch–!” The second guy sneered at you as he dug his lit cigarette into your skin and you yelped in pain, dropping all of your bags now onto the floor. You tried to wrench your arm away from the searing burn, but you couldn’t. His grip was too strong on you and you vaguely felt your back slam into the wall behind you, pain filling every crevice of your body. It was such a quick interaction, your thighs trembled underneath you as the man pushed up against you to keep you in place. Pure dread raced through you as you squeezed your eyes shut with a scream readying in your throat until you felt the weight off your chest and loud yells were flooding through your ears, the cigarette falling onto the floor.

More like terrified screams, a rush of wind had opened up in the train and your eyes peeked open cautiously. They first fixed on the wide open doors of the moving train, the lights speeding through the instances of train signs and the accompanied men hanging over the edge by their shirt collars. Then you registered the white haired man who was dangling said men with two strong hands, threatening to throw them out onto the electrified tracks beneath them. Begs and pleads came whirling out of both of the men’s mouths and you were sure one of them had started crying, sobs frantically overtaking him like a pussy.

“Satoru!” You cried out and his head whipped towards you, worry flooding his face as he saw you collapse with shaky footing onto the seat. Reluctantly, he pulled the men back into the train and slammed them against the door as he shut it. 

“Don’t fucking touch her again.” Gojo threatened, the edge in his voice not faltering and both of the men nodded scarily quick. “In fact, you don’t need to take this train anymore. Looks like another route opened up on your commute, huh?”

Gojo put his hands in his pockets and gave the men a hard kick to the stomach before moving over towards you. One of the other things you noticed was that he wasn’t in his uniform, his figure filled in a solid black sleeved tee and khakis instead. He crouched in front of you and immediately took off his usual sunglasses, studying your face to make sure you were okay. The whirling blue stared at you with growing panic as you shied away from him, terrified that they were going to see through your every sense. “Let me see.” 

Gojo’s hands immediately cupped your face as you froze, checking for any abrasions and then moved downwards to your arms and he stroked over the cigarette mark gently with his fingers. You winced at the pain that blossomed at the peak of the burn and he instantly pulled his hand away, his mind running a million miles a minute as he frowned at the singed area. Suddenly Gojo pulled a smile, a toothy grin that made you utterly confused.

“I have a first aid kit stashed somewhere in our house, so you’ll be fine!” He said reassuringly, a lighthearted tone edging his demeanor. What was with him? Normally he was quiet around you and his bearings kept punctuation in calmness. You’ve never seen this side of him and you faintly wondered if this was how he acted in public. Maybe when he was home, it was a different atmosphere and he was allowed to let his guard down.

Home, our house? His words cut through you like a knife. While he tended to the groceries on the floor and placed them into the bags again, you couldn’t help but tense up even more. It didn’t feel like your home, your shared life– 

Gojo’s voice fell a few octaves, the cheery upkeep of his personality disappearing as he became serious. “Was this the first time they harassed you?” 

“N-No.” You managed to say, sitting up fully on the train. Your head pounded and you moved to pick up some of the groceries as they rattled against the train’s floor. The sweet you had bought for Gojo sat near his foot and you noticed some of the pastries had been swished as you picked up the package. You let out a quiet noise of discontent, his eyes shot up towards yours with uneasiness and he noticed the sweets in your hand. 

“Y/N, why didn’t you tell me they were bothering you?” He murmured, carefully taking the sweets from your hand and placing them in the bag as he glanced at the words on the package. Realizing they were for him as you don’t eat those types of pastries often, his heart warmed in his chest. Gojo tried his best to hide the smile that was trying to flourish on his face, it wasn’t the time to get sappy about sweets you bought him. “I could’ve skipped some of my missions, sweetheart.” 

Sweetheart. A pet name. You didn’t think it was possible for him to utter such fondness, the affection sounding like it danced on a pile of fluffy clouds above your head. It made you lightheaded, or at least you thought it did; certainly not from the hellish confrontation you just had. 

“I didn’t think you’d believe me.” 

“Why wouldn’t I? I would’ve gladly joined you on your escapades if you told me.” Gojo teased with a gentle tone and you frowned at him. He was still crouched in front of you, his black long sleeve nearly slipping off the sides of his shoulders as he leaned forward to accommodate some space on the train as more people filed in. The ends of his elbows rested on one of your thighs as you crossed your ankles together in between his feet, recollecting yourself fully.

“You barely pay attention to me now, why would you go out of your way to come with me during my errands?” You avoided his eyes this time, not wanting to feel fooled into explaining anything more than that. But when the silence grew heavy after a few seconds, you glanced over to find out why he hadn’t spoken. 

His face had fallen flat and his eyes weren’t shining anymore, much to your relief. But as much as it relieved you it also made you incredibly upset, a knot thickening in your throat as you watched the dulled turquoise glass over.

“That’s not…” 

“It’s true! You never pay attention to me. You’re either out with friends at a karaoke bar probably drinking away the day or you’re exorcising some curse late in the night. Gojo, I don’t think you–” 

“Satoru. I don’t drink by the way.” He corrected you, silent annoyance filling his voice but it fizzled out as he tried his best to remain calm. In truth, he was falling apart on the inside. He never knew, never realized that he had been so distant from you and that you were hurting because of it. He only wanted to give you space the first few months to let you get used to his routine and to help you find your own. As Gojo thought of that reason, it seemed incredibly selfish of him and his chest tightened up with regret.

Pushing the feeling down, he laughed mildly with a hint of sorrow. “My mission was called off. I was on my way home, no curses to exorcise today.”

“Satoru…” Repeating his name, you said it with so much sadness that his heart almost broke in two. “Even when you come home early, you spend the rest of the evening without me. And your bank statements–” 

“From me buying the rounds for everyone, that’s not the issue right now.” He confessed truthfully; he would buy the whole bar for his friends who have seen hell and back with him, but he didn’t dare to drink a drop as it disoriented him too much. “I don’t have anything to do this evening so we can spend it together, sweeth–”

The next words you spoke were barely above a whisper as you gritted your teeth to stop yourself from outright sobbing them. “You haven’t so much as kissed me since the wedding. Why would you want to spend time with me?” 

Tears welled up in your eyes and he quickly wiped them away with the tips of his thumbs, the long awaited gesture making sobs wrack your body; of course he was drying the tears that he made you cry. “I don’t think we should’ve gotten married.” 

The train had halted, a loud announcement blaring that it was the end of the line. It was your stop, the doors opening up with the wind blowing through the train again and you tried to stand before Gojo softly blocked your way. You couldn’t look at him. “Y/N, you don’t mean that–”

“I just want to go home. I’m miserable, -toru.” 

“Of course, let’s go.” Gojo stood up with his eyes hidden behind his sunglasses once more, hauling the grocery bags onto his forearms and offering a hand out to you. “I’ll make dinner tonight.”

That’s not what you meant.

When you got to the house, stagnant air filled the house with tension filling in the empty corners. Gojo had become near silent, putting away the groceries with his lips pressed in a thin line and you thought you made him mad. 

In reality, he was on the verge of tears because he didn’t know how to make anything up to you. It was entirely his fault, the distance that forced you two apart. He was too focused on his missions to give a damn about how you felt, your feelings were rendered useless in his eyes. He was so used to arranged marriages in his clan that he never expected you to be so fragile, the frailness of a new life seeming to shock you. 

And so he gave you space. He thought it was something you wanted– something you needed after being forced to live with a big shot jujutsu sorcerer from Tokyo. He knew his life was drastically different from yours, you had stability from living peacefully with your clan. You were promised fortune and happiness and future children you could call your own, something you must’ve dreamed of. Gojo had nothing, his missions keeping him afloat as he danced in the midst of the curses who tried to test him; not to mention the wickedness of other clans threatening to clash with him.

All he really wanted was someone close enough to him that he could let his guard down without a second thought; his technique fading away and being replaced by your hands on him, tearing away at the fabric that made him whole. He’s never felt like this before, the constant emotions flaring up his every sense and he nearly wiped out when he first saw you on the sidewalk, carrying the precious groceries to the train station. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, the readying sensation of wanting to be the one who carried your bags and alleviate your stress, he’d likely let you step all over him like a doormat if it meant he could get close to you.

But he just couldn’t.

“I’m going to see my clan leader tomorrow.” You expressed, seating yourself at the island in the kitchen. You had just showered, the muck of the men’s hand from earlier flooding down the drain and you sighed in relief as you felt more like yourself again. Gojo had swapped his sunglasses for his blindfold, his hair sticking straight up in light of the band wedging his bangs off of his forehead. He was still in the same attire though, the dusked sleeves rolled up messily against his arms as he meticulously cut vegetables for dinner. When he registered your words, the knife in his hand faltered.

“Would they even let you come back?” Gojo sulked, mixing the sliced veggies with the accompanying sauce that sat on the stove. “Clans are very unforgiving, you know. I don’t think you’d survive if you went home.”

“I don’t know.” You really didn’t, all they taught you was to be praising of the Gojo clan member you marry; your whole life had been to practically worship him on your hands and knees. Not that you’ve done that– the hands and knees part would’ve been nice though in practice.

“We don’t have to talk about this now.” Gojo turned towards you, leaning over the island with a spoon in his hand. “Here, taste this for me.”

A blend of spices hit your tongue as you savored the sauce from the dip of the spoon, looking up at him as you did so. You could feel the cursed energy flowing from him and it made you waver slightly as you made to say that he was a good cook. As he moved back into front of the stove, you swore you saw a small blush creep up his cheeks.

A bit of silence followed and you decided to help out with dinner, picking out some other ingredients for him to use. As you opened the refrigerator to scour the shelves, Gojo cleared his throat as he peeled the outside of an onion. “What do you expect from a husband?” 

Your head peeked over the fridge towards him in utter shock. You thought you weren’t going to talk about pointless intentions, your mind having been set on leaving. “What?”

“Huh, I gotta repeat myself?” 

“No, I heard you. Let me think for a second.” 

The first thing that popped into your mind was intimacy. A husband should provide a sense of intimacy that no one but him should give you; the very essence of a human relationship. This didn’t have to include sexual relations, but in your case you wanted it to. It would be nice if he held your hand during outings and offered sentimental gestures like flowers and a hushed compliment every now and then. But the feeling you really craved was his hands against your thighs, digging into your flesh as his mouth hovered over every place it could reach with a pointed tongue and his eyes boring up towards yours, a smirk prominent on his lips as you quivered under his touch.

Dejection sat heavy in your heart just then, reminding you that he hasn’t done any of those things.

The fridge wafted over you with a cold atmosphere and you pushed the thought out of your head, shutting the door mindlessly. You watched Gojo add the rest of the ingredients to the pan and he washed the cutting board he used with a hum, presumably giving you time to think over your answer.

But you lost your train of thought and after a minute of just standing there with a blank face, he spoke up in an amused tone. “You gonna answer me, sweetheart?”

“Do you not want to have sex with me?” 

“Where did that come from?” A quiet chuckle escaped him as he dried his hands of excess water, leaning against the island with his hip. He tossed the towel down on the counter, crossing his arms with a coy smile. “I should be asking you that question.” 

“I thought you didn’t care or something was wrong with me. That you didn’t want me, that I was just some offer that my clan made you-” You started, emotions flowing through your system as tears threatened to spill again. Your voice broke off in the midst of the sentence and you gasped for air as you tried not to cry. You didn’t realize how broken you felt until now as it trudged up towards the surface and you vaguely registered Gojo moving towards you, his smirk disappearing with a quiet coo. 

His arms instantly wrapped around you, pulling you into a tight hug and you froze when you heard his heartbeat against your ear. “Y/N, I wanted you from the moment I saw you walking down the aisle.”

“Satoru…” You whispered into his chest and he shushed you, his strong arms hauling you onto the island and you sat eye level with him and he bended slightly down in front of you. You had the genius idea to remove his blindfold with lithe fingers, hooking them and pulling upwards to reveal the vividness hiding underneath. His hair fell against his eyes and he smiled at you warmly as he blinked his eyes a bit, getting used to the extra exposure of light. 

Your head was swimming at his confession, the memory of walking down in your white dress crossing your mind fondly. And him in his pristine black suit with a pearly blue tie, sticking out like a sore thumb mind you, his eyes had draped against you as your clan leader gave you away. You never recognized his awe of you as you were shaking like a leaf when you first saw his demeanor; the intense refined energy whirling off of him nearly made you trip down the aisle. 

“Please, just let me make it up to you.” Gojo whispered as you folded his blindfold into his pocket, leaning into your space with his arms braced on either side of you on the counter. “Before you leave me, let me give you one good night. Though, that’s a severe understatement if you know what I mean.”

Before you could answer him, his lips had found yours with lenience hanging by a thread. Immediately resting your hands against the back of his neck, you enclosed them and pulled him closer to you with a feeling yearning so deeply inside you. It made your entire body shudder with want, his words running circles in your mind as you let his tongue slip in with growing fervor. Gojo’s hands found your waist, holding you steady as you edged yourself away from him. 

“-toru, -toru, wait.” You pulled back and he made a short noise of discontent, instead latching his lips against your neck. “D-Dinner?” 

“Oh, right.” He muttered into your skin with a displeased groan. In one fluid motion, he turned off the stove and carried you by the grace of one arm. “That’s not what I want right now.” 

As he walked the both of you up the stairs to the loft, you clung onto him like a lifeline and even as he laid you down against the bed, your hands never left a part of his body. You needed to be close to him, needed this one chance for him to change your mind; in truth you didn’t want to leave him. But it made him move like clockwork, huh?

Who knew all you had to do was cry? 

Gojo hovered above you and God, you didn’t realize how massive his frame was against yours until he was on top of you. His broad shoulders basically caged you in, keeping you safe underneath him as his tongue found your collarbone and lapped at it slowly. Your hands flew to his hair with a quiet moan, tangling in the fluffy snow of it and he hummed delightfully at your response. His hands played with the seams at the bottom of your shirt and his eyes darted to yours, asking for permission. 

Offering a quick ‘yes’, you felt your shirt lift up carefully and his hands instantly roamed underneath, focusing on the way you had no bra on. How wonderful it was that you were comfortable in that sense with him, his fingers tweaking your nipple lightly as he studied you for a reaction. A peaked whimper left your mouth and your eyes slipped shut, your back arching slightly into his touch. Gojo felt the heavy ache of his cock, pressing harshly against the front of his trousers and he honestly didn’t think he could get this hard. But you were just so pliant, every single touch enacts a spark from you and he wished he made his move sooner. 

He could’ve been buried in you every waking moment you were with him for the past two months and he wished he could go back in time and beat himself up for being such a fucking idiot. 

“-toru…” You moaned out as his mouth latched onto your nipple now after he fully pulled your shirt off, his teeth grazing the bud and he had to press his palm against his cock to calm down as you whimpered out little pleas. Pleas that were music to his ears, your hands pulling his down towards your precious cunt and all he wanted to do was sink in. 

But he had to stop himself from just going in blind with you; it was your first time after all. Gojo didn’t want to scare you away because of his sheer desperation, it was his own fault that he made you wait so long. It wasn’t about him, he needed to make sure you saw stars tonight. 

“Fuck, want to hear those pretty whimpers for the rest of my life.” He breathed out as his fingers traced your clothed cunt, teasing it with a hard stroke upwards towards your clit. Gojo hooked his fingers underneath the waistband of your shorts and again with a questioning look pleaded for an answer. You rewarded him with a quick nod and he pulled them out with ease, his jaw dropping a bit as he noticed how wet you were already. It practically seeped out of you and he held back a groan as he swiped a finger through it. 

“God, didn’t think a pussy could get this wet.” He uttered under his breath, sucking his finger into his mouth to clean it off. “And I’ve seen my fair share.” 

“Satoru.” You frowned at him, sitting up on your elbows. “Did you have to add that last part?” 

“Sorry, baby. Your pussy’s the prettiest, I promise.” He reassured with a smirk, bending down to face your cunt.

He teased his tongue against your clit experimentally and groaned into you as you reacted exactly how he expected you to, your hands clutching at his hair again. He ran his arms underneath your thighs, rubbing softly at your hips as he pulled you more onto him. Gojo licked a fat stripe up your entire cunt this time, lapping at the arousal that flooded out of you with satisfaction. You moaned out, your head tipping back and your hips rolled against his face subconsciously as he fucked his tongue into you feverishly. His nose pressed against your clit, rubbing it subtly as he pointed his tongue into you and you could already feel your orgasm rushing up your spine. 

“-toru, hold on…. Fuck, too fast, wait!” You whined out, trying to push him away so you didn’t cum all over his face but his grip on you became tight and his fingers dug into the tops of your thighs, his forearms cradling the backs of them. His eyes met yours as he noticed you quiver, the blinding blue heavy with lust and nothing could’ve stopped you then. You came all over his face with a tremble, the tightness in your tummy unraveling like a ribbon and Gojo moaned into your cunt as your thighs squeezed against him.

“Should’ve mentioned my tongue’s won an award.” He stupidly quipped afterwards and you burst out laughing once you caught your breath, the mood having lightened much more to your benefit. You could learn to love his idiot, if this is how everyday was supposed to be. You noticed the glisten that shielded his lower face and he grinned at you, his cheeks flushed hot.

“What, for talking shit?” You teased as he wiped his mouth with the inside of his shirt before pulling it off, his abs suddenly on display and you almost choked. 

“Hey now, I don’t talk shit. Unless it’s about Utahime.” Gojo retorted with a chuckle, moving to unzip his trousers. 

You stopped him and he looked at you confused but when your fingers ran against the outline of his cock, his eyes widened. He was fucking huge though you had nothing to compare it to and honestly  you didn’t need to to know that he was gonna stretch you open with one shallow thrust. You unzipped his trousers, his clothed cock much more prominent in front of you now and you palmed him lightly, silently gauging his reaction. A quiet groan escaped him and his eyes fluttered shut as you pulled him out of his boxers. And holy fuck, he’s supposed to fuck you with this? 

How was it going to fit? Gojo was so goddamn lengthy and wrapped your hand around him carefully, testing the waters as one of his hands rested against your shoulder. “Y-Y/N…”

“Yeah?” You breathed, running your hand up his shaft towards the tip, the crown of it and he shuddered– he fucking shuddered from your touch and he inhaled sharply, his mouth falling open.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Tonight’s supposed to be about you.” Gojo bit back a moan as you started to pump him through his words, tracing some of his veins with the extent of your eyes.

“I want to, trust me.” 

Before you really knew what you were doing, you took him into your mouth and Gojo’s hands flew to the top of your head quickly, a breathy moan emitting from him. “Holy shit, Y/N, holy fucking shit.”

You enveloped his cock in your warmth and he tangled his fingers into your hair shakily, the sensation sending warning signals flying to his brain as he tried his best not to just buck into your mouth. You sucked him down like a champ, and who the fuck taught you to do that, he thought vaguely with breathy moans falling from his mouth. He couldn’t help it, your mouth felt so good around him and it’s been forever since someone’s tended to him like this.

“Oh God, you have such a dirty mouth, huh baby? Who taught you how to– fuck, suck me off like that?” He moaned out, a smirk plastered on his face as he looked down at you and you scowled at him in return. You swallowed around him, listening to his whimpers and you noticed that his thighs had started to shake lightly. 

Fuck, you were going to make him come just from this. “Shit, keep going baby…please, sweetheart.”

You felt his cock twitch in your mouth, lying heavily against your tongue and you lapped at it with a hefty moan. You hollowed your cheeks and took him as deep as he could possibly go and you felt his hips start to move languidly, fucking himself deeper into your mouth. You gagged around him, feeling the wet slick of your saliva on his cock drag against your lips and his grip tightened in your hair. Gojo set a relentless pace for you, rutting in with vigor and you felt him tremble above you with a rushed groan following, his hips stilling. 

You did not expect such a bitter taste, his cum flooding into your mouth in viscous ropes and you pulled off of him with a gasp. Some of it splattered on your face and you swallowed the load in your mouth a bit shocked. Your cunt suddenly ached with want, his whimpers and how his face contorted in pleasure replaying over and over and- “-toru…”

“Mm, ‘M sorry honey.” Gojo breathed out, his chest rising and falling and he swiped his finger through the splatter of cum across your cheek, reveling at how tainted you looked. Thank God he was the one to corrupt you, if it was anyone else he wouldn’t have been able to handle it he thought. The way you looked below him, your tongue flush on his cock; he’d probably kill everyone if he couldn’t see that again. 

And that’s right, you were his wife. His precious wife that he took for granted.

“-toru, please. I need you, your fingers-” Your pleas brought him back to his senses, the numb feeling of the past two months falling away as he helped you lay back on the bed. You looked absolutely wrecked, your lips red and as you pleaded, it came out in rasps.

“Shh, it’s okay. Hold on, I got you.” Gojo had taken to your left side, making sure he had a good view of his fingers slipping inside you. As he pushed two inside, you keened at the feeling and your hips moved against them. He curled them upwards, grazing against your sweet spot lightly and you arched your back, your head falling against the feathery pillows with a wanton moan. 

“Want my cock instead? Much better than my fingers, baby.” He cooed, his other hand wrapped around his cock and pumping it to full length again. It wasn’t all that difficult to get hard again when you were splayed out in front of him like this, begging for him to do anything and everything. Before you even nodded, he was pulling off the rest of his clothing and hovering over you once more, pulling his fingers out of you with a dismissed moan coming from you.

As he positioned himself against your entrance, his eyes captured yours for the first time in a while and you felt your cheeks blush hot with embarrassment. You couldn’t believe you were begging for this man, but then again you couldn’t believe you weren’t begging for him before. 

“Might hurt a bit, but you’ll be fine.” He warned as he prodded his tip into you slightly and you shuddered, holding onto his shoulder blades for support. He sunk further into you and about halfway in, a dull pain started to ache within you as he stretched you. You whimpered out and Gojo immediately stopped moving, slight concern spreading over his face. “Are you okay?” 

“Shit, Satoru, you’re still not all the way in?” You whined and he merely chuckled, bottoming out with a shallow thrust that nearly brought you to tears. Gojo let out a breathy groan, his head lolling into the side of your neck and he kissed at your skin tenderly. 

“I am now.” He sucked a bruise into the crevice of your neck as he waited for you to adjust, his cock twitching impatiently inside you. He could feel you squeezing him, clenching around him to get used to the feeling and every single time you did, it sent straight pleasure coursing through his veins. “Fuck, tell me when I can move…”

“You can move…” You managed to get out, your fingers running up his back with a delicate scratch. 

“Thank fuck–” Gojo groaned out loudly, pulling all the way out of you and thrusting in with one fluid motion. You cried out at the sudden movement, you didn’t think he’d be so headstrong to fuck into you harshly without so much as a quick warning. “You were driving me insane…so fucking warm and tight for me.”

Gojo worked you open with his cock and you couldn’t help the sounds that came out of you, quiet whimpers and pleas of his name, ‘satoru, slow down a bit for me’, and he did reluctantly but not before giving a few harsh thrusts into your cunt. You wrapped your legs around him, taking him in deeper and he groaned in your ear with a shudder as he gripped onto your thighs.

“Stay just like that.” He whined in a merciful tone, his face now adjacent to yours and he gave you a spirited kiss, licking into your mouth with every damned thrust into your poor cunt. You both moaned into the kiss and he suddenly broke away to hoist your legs over his shoulders instead. “Actually… fuck, this so much better.”

Gojo was able to aim dead against your sweet spot that lingered in the corners of your nerves and you arched as he did so, each perfect thrust relentlessly hitting it and your vision clouded with unbridled pleasure. He looked so godlike above you, sweat glistening against his chest and his white hair had begun to look quite damp with the same moisture, falling beautifully over his eyes; those were on another level and you had to look away so you didn’t cum too quickly.

“All for me? Say it’s all for me.” He had started to beg, ecstasy coursing through both of you now and all you cared about was your releases, the euphoric pressure climbing up your spines with every strike of his hips against yours.

“All for you, -toru...” You babbled out as Gojo started rutting into you harshly, a quick rhythm picking up and your fingers welded into the sheets to keep yourself from hitting your head against the headboard. Your orgasm came crashing through you and you clenched around him as he buried into you with desperation.

“Fuck yeah, all for me.” His mouth dropped open with a low drawn out groan and his eyes squeezed shut as he came in you, his eyebrows furrowing as his orgasm cascaded through him. He shallowly pumped into you, mixing the cum with your arousal and you whimpered at the feeling as you came down from your high. He pulled out with a quiet sigh, gently bringing himself down to kiss you promptly and laying on top of you with his head on your chest. 

A couple minutes later, you felt his fingers trace over your burn mark that had scarred over on your arm. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you.” 

You looked down at him, his eyes fixated on the mark and you tousled his hair a bit as you smiled at him. Exhaustion had begun to take over your senses and you yawned as you spoke. “It’s okay, I’m just happy that you were on the same train.” 

“That’s not what I meant.” Gojo was quiet, his eminence surrounding you in a veil. “Please don’t leave.” 

“I wasn’t going to in the first place. You had already changed my mind when you said something about me not surviving in the clan.” 

He was quiet for a minute, registering what you just said. Then, you heard a cheeky laugh erupt from him.

“So, my dick wasn’t what changed your mind, huh. Guess we have to start over, don’t we?” He said with a smirk holding in his voice and everything he had just felt, the sorrow and the panic disappeared as he started to kiss down your chest. He pinned your wrists down as he hauled himself back into a good position, face to face with you. Maybe you could get used to the piercing brightness of his eyes, the turquoise loving and cordial and everything in between staring back at you in the way you’ve always wanted.

“Gojo Satoru, you’ve got quite a big ego don't you?”

“Perks of being the one and only.” He pressed a light kiss on your lips, his hands brushing over your body. “Well, maybe not for long.”

a/n: wanna get tagged in future writing posts? join my taglist!

[littlefireball]

Can I request something similar to YS|Oops

So pretty much same scenario but instead all of Ateez walks in on Yeosang ×reader right whe she starts squirting and they join in taking turns making her squirt and watch yeosang send her into sub space? And if your comfortable with it while in subspace she gets so much pleasure she starts to let go of her bladder? Etc?

~🐈‍⬛

haha actually im writing pt.2 as there are so many requests on wattpad 🤣i supposed to update yesterday but it took too long 🥹 it was my first time to write OT8 and it was quite hard😂i tried my best to write it better ahh but sorry i don't write pee/bladder

OT8|Oops! Pt.2 Sharing is caring (M)

Part 1 YS|Oops! is here

ᴏᴛ8 x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ʟᴏɴɢ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ|ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx|ꜰɪɴɢᴇʀɪɴɢ|ꜰᴀᴄᴇ ꜱɪᴛᴛɪɴɢ|ꜰᴀᴄᴇ ꜰᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ|ᴏʀᴀʟ|ʙʀᴇᴀꜱᴛ ᴘʟᴀʏ|ᴏᴠᴇʀꜱᴛɪᴍᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ|ʜᴀɪʀ ᴘᴜʟʟɪɴɢ|ᴄʜᴏᴋɪɴɢ|ʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴊᴏɴɢʜᴏ|ᴛʜʀᴇᴇꜱᴏᴍᴇ|ᴅᴏᴜʙʟᴇ ᴘᴇɴᴇᴛʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ|ᴍɪɴɢɪ ʜᴀꜱ ꜱɪʀ ᴋɪɴᴋ|ꜱᴘᴀɴᴋɪɴɢ|ᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴇx ᴛᴏʏ|ꜱʟᴇᴇᴘʏ ꜱᴇx|ᴅᴏᴍ ʏᴇᴏꜱᴀɴɢ|ꜱᴜʙ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ|

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 5ᴋ

“What? Wanna join us?" Yeosang's face wears an evil smirk. His face twisted into an evil smirk as he exposes you to the group without a care. Oh, because he knows, he knows you have this kink or even want to try something new but you never told him. It's just that he noticed it himself.

You couldn't help but let out a moan as he thrust deeply. Trying to stifle your sounds, you locked eyes with the stunned onlookers. They were unable to tear their gaze away from the sight of Yeosang moving in and out, and your body responding in kind.

“See, babe, they all want you.”

“What…oh fuck Sangie~” Your words are abruptly silenced by Yeosang's forceful thrust, plunging you into the depths of pleasure. You're on the brink of climax. You can't help but let out a loud moan - it's just a habit of yours.

"Ah~ah~" "Do you want to come, babe?" You arch your back as he intensifies his movements. A rush of ecstasy courses through your entire body, from head to toe. With your eyes shut tight, you can hear the rest of ATEEZ murmuring and cursing, especially San. Every time you call out 'Sangie', his cock twitches and stiffens even more due to your mispronunciation.

"Fuck, Sangie, please…" "What?" Yeosang looks at them all with a wicked grin, noticing they're all fully aroused now. They can't tear their eyes away from you.

It must be quite a sight to witness how intensely you climax.

Yeosang buries his face in the crook of your neck, picking up the pace to reach his peak. He thrusts rapidly, the sound of skin slapping echoing through the room, driving them all towards their climax.

Shit,shit,shit. Your moans are so gratifying, and they can't resist any longer. They NEED to have you, NOW.

"Sangie… Sang… ah fuckkkk!!" You squirt forcefully onto his cock, giving Yeosang endless pleasure as the warmth and wetness envelop him. "Fuck…" He also comes, filling the condom after a few more thrusts.

"You did amazing, baby. You squirted," he says, intentionally provoking jealousy and desire from the others. After all, sharing is caring.

Yeosang unlocks your handcuffs and hands them to Wooyoung after pulling out. Swallowing hard, Wooyoung takes the handcuffs back, his eyes still fixated on your chest rising and falling with each pant.

“Don't you want to taste her?” A gasp escapes Wooyoung as he considers the idea of indulging in a sweet and delicious experience. His mind is filled with erotic fantasies as he imagines the intimate act of pleasuring you—he is eating you out while you are sitting on his face, growling messily and creaming his face with your —

“Yah, fuck you man.” Wooyoung bursts out, rolling his eyes at the back. Oh my, no one expects he is so bold to ask to eat you out.

“How about you, Y/N?” Yeosang asks. Blushing, you are taken aback by his question and his perceptiveness. “You want it, don't you? I know you always want to try something new~” Seeing your silence, Yeosang leans down and whispers in your ears.

“I…yeosang…” You have no idea why he knows this secret but feel sorry for him. “It’s okay, baby.” He drops a kiss on your forehead. “Go help my buddy, hm? But of course you can say no.” “I'm okay.” With a smile on your lips, yeosang pecks at you once again before walking to the chair.

"Don't hurt her. "Yah, just watch me eat your girlfriend out.” As Wooyoung approaches you with a mischievous smirk, his gaze lingering on your enticing form, your heart races with anticipation.

“Sit on my face, y/n.” Startled, you stare at his lustful gaze without knowing how to do it. Even you have never sat on yeosang’s face.

“Don't be intense, y/n. It feels good.”With Wooyoung lying back on the sofa, he guides you to straddle his face, offering support and comfort. “Relax, I’m holding you.” As you settle into position, his hands caress your thighs and squeeze your buttocks, eliciting a shy moan from your lips.

“So sensitive.” Mingi and the others watch intently, their eyes fixed on your every move. The atmosphere is charged with excitement, and your body responds with a rush of heat and a quickened heartbeat.

“Fuck her with me, San. Don’t you want her too?""Shit.” San murmurs as wooyoung voices his mind. His member has been arching for a while when he sees you and yeosang having sex.

“Can you take both of us?” San asks softly as he lifts your chin. “Yes, please.” You nod with a murmur.

“Good.”As San unbuckles his belt and takes hold of your hair, guiding himself into your mouth, Wooyoung pulls you closer, his lips seeking yours. The sensations overwhelm you as you navigate the dual stimulation, feeling a mix of pleasure and intensity.

“Oh fuck!” San couldn't resist the urge to lean his head back and let out a deep moan as your warmth enveloped him in pure pleasure. With each deep thrust, he felt a shiver run down his spine from the touch of your tongues. It is a challenge to handle two men at once, but Wooyoung's skilled tongue explored every inch, licking up the juices and focusing on your most sensitive spot.

The room fills with moans and sighs as the three of you become entwined in a passionate embrace, each touch and kiss igniting a fire within. Despite the challenge of accommodating both men, you find yourself lost in the moment, surrendering to the shared ecstasy of the experience.

“Fuck, you feel too good.” As San withdraws slightly, leaving just the tip in your mouth before thrusting deeply, reaching the back of your throat, a loud moan escapes his lips as he quickened his pace. You struggle to contain the swirling sensation in your stomach as you try your best to accommodate his length.

Your body sways in rhythm with San's movements, causing your clit to brush against Wooyoung's lips. A surge of pleasure travels from your core to your entire body, urging you to bounce with more intensity. His tongue continues to swirl, savoring the juices that flow endlessly from you, delving deep inside with each provocative sucking sound, leaving you dizzy with desire.

"Damn…oh god…" The moans and curses blend together, making it impossible to distinguish who is making which sound as your mind struggles to keep up. All you can focus on are the gasps of pleasure from the men and the slick sounds of skin meeting skin.

The overwhelming sensations from both your lower core and mouth push you towards a state of chaos, heightened by the erotic symphony that echoes in your ears.

“I'm cumming.” With a few more powerful thrusts, San releases his essence into your mouth and pulls away, a thin line of saliva connecting the two of you, trailing down to your chin. “Wow, you look stunning.” Your moans intensify as wooyoung suddenly plunges deep and fast, his tongue adding to the sensation, bringing you closer to the edge.

“Oh my god!” You bounce even harder, chasing that peak, and wooyoung responds to your urgency, licking and sucking with fervor while giving you a firm spank. “Oh my goodness!” You climax on wooyoung’s face, breathing heavily as exhaustion washes over you.

“You did so well.” San gently pats your head, a smile playing on his lips. “Spit it out.” He hands you a cup, and you comply, letting the white liquid dribble from the corner of your mouth. “Damn.” He tenderly strokes your pink lips with his thumb, wiping away the remnants of his release. “Suck it.” You part your lips slightly, following his command, sucking on his finger.

He can feel the sensation of your tongue circling around his fingertip, causing him to utter a soft "Good girl." Your laughter fills the air as you release his finger with a gentle pop, earning a smirk from him in return.

"Now, it's my turn. You take too long," Wooyoung whimpers, pulling you down to sit on his thighs.

"Hey, use protection!" Yeosang interjects, tossing a condom to Wooyoung as he unties his pants.

"Yah! I know!"

"Ready to make you lose your mind," Wooyoung's face contorts into a mischievous smirk, a look usually reserved for the stage. He looks incredibly attractive.

"Ride me, y/n," he instructs after rolling the condom onto his hardened shaft. "Oh, yes, that feels amazing." A wave of pleasure washes over you as you sink down onto him, both of you unable to contain your moans of pleasure.

As exhaustion starts to set in, your legs weaken, almost causing you to fall onto Wooyoung's chest. "Feeling tired?" Wooyoung grips your waist and delivers a deep thrust.

"Oh, fuck!" Gasps and moans escape your lips, your throat feeling tight as the intense sensations in your lower body overwhelm your senses, making it hard to breathe. His movements become more vigorous, your nails digging into his chest, a mix of pleasure and pain coursing through him.

With your eyes tightly shut, you are unaware of the others, focusing on sitting up straight. They watch in awe as your chest, adorned with Yeosang's bite marks, trembles. "It's indeed soft," Yeosang remarks, causing you to blush and bite your lip as memories of his playful touches flood your mind.

"She must be craving something exquisite," Yeosang muses, unaware of Jongho's approach as you shut your eyes. A sudden cold touch on your chest makes you squirm, feeling the gentle movement of someone's fingertip.

"She's sensitive, isn't she?" Jongho's deep voice resonates in your ears, causing you to hum and tighten your grip on Wooyoung's cock in response.

“Let's see if our maknae knows where her trigger is.” As Jongho leans down to drop a kiss on your chest, you feel a ball of saliva swallow down your throat. Wrapping your arm around his head, you pull him closer, savoring the sensation of his tongue on your skin. He wastes no time in sucking hard on your nipples, his wet mouth leaving a trail of heat that ignites your senses.

His kisses are intense, his tongue exploring every inch of your body, sending shivers down your spine. "Oh my…" you moan as Wooyoung moves faster inside you, his cock twitching with each thrust. Jongho's wet kisses leave a mark on your breast, neck, and jaw, driving you to the edge of pleasure.

"I'm about to cum," Wooyoung groans, his movements becoming more urgent as he reaches his peak. You climax with him, the warmth of his release sending you over the edge. They both groan in satisfaction as your juices drip onto Wooyoung and the sofa, a testament to the pleasure they've given you.

As Jongho releases your chest, you whimper, but he quickly moves behind you, pressing his muscular chest against your wet back. "Don't rush," he whispers, guiding you down onto his cock, filling you once again. Resting your head on his shoulder, he moves with a steady rhythm, his hands exploring every part of your body with care and precision.

"Show us how you're going to please her, Hojong," Wooyoung commands, watching with anticipation as Jongho takes control. Despite your exhaustion, the thrill of being exposed to all of them keeps you on edge. Jongho's hands grip your ass, guiding your movements as he thrusts into you, his touch sending waves of pleasure through your body.

He caresses the inside of your thighs, his other hand kneading your chest, his movements calculated to drive you wild. The room is filled with the sounds of your moans and their groans as they all lock eyes on your soaked clit and jongho’s cock moving in and out of your cunt, a symphony of pleasure that leaves you breathless and wanting more.

“Wanna be rough?” Jongho's warm breath tickles your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "Please," you whisper, his right hand tightening around your neck while his left hand secures your arms behind your back. With each intense and deep thrust, a muffled sound escapes your lips, unable to scream.

As the sensation of suffocation grips you, black spots dance before your eyes. The pain in your neck mixes with the overwhelming pleasure pulsing through your body, blurring your consciousness.

Beneath you, the movements are anything but gentle, driving you to the brink of ecstasy. Multiple orgasms leave you drained, but Jongho shows no mercy. There is no respite, only relentless thrusts that delve into the core of your being. Your stifled cries morph into choked sobs as he releases his grip on your neck.

“Jong─” "Do you dare to moan out his name, y/n?” Yeosang's warning jolts you, causing you to halt mid-sentence, much to the surprise of the others. "I…I'm sorry," you stammer, sensing Jongho's mischievous delight in the situation as he releases a wicked chuckle. Known for his love of teasing, it's no wonder he's reveling in this moment.

"Remember not to say my name, hm?" Jongho's warning is cut short as he abruptly pushes you down, forcing you onto all fours. The suddenness of his actions elicits a string of expletives from you as he thrusts into you with unrelenting force, hitting your deepest depths without an ounce of mercy or tenderness.

The mix of pain and numbness sends shivers down your spine, as Jongho grips your hair tightly and continues his primal onslaught. Gasping for air, the intensity of the sensations overwhelms you, causing a blend of pleasure and agony that leaves you on the brink of losing control.

Tears stream down your face, your moans now intermingled with sobs as the overwhelming sensations render you speechless, reduced to incoherent sounds of ecstasy and torment.

“Slow…slow…down…please…ah fuck!!”

“What did you say?I can’t hear.”

“Hm…please jo─…"

"Say my name or I won't stop," he demands. Yeosang’s eyes fixed on you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. You bite your lip, resisting the urge to comply, knowing the consequences if you give in. A reminder of his past roughness when you challenged him.

Suddenly, Jongho's hand connects with your buttocks, leaving a stinging mark and snapping you back to the present. "Moan for me," he commands, his voice a potent trigger that compels you to obey. Your moan fills the room, drawing a dark look of jealousy from Yeosang, who knows you only heed Jongho's words.

Jongho's thrusts quicken, his movements erratic as he nears climax. With a powerful thrust, he buries himself fully inside you, eliciting a gasp and a wide-mouth of pleasure from you. His hand finds your clit, expertly teasing and pressing, pushing you to the edge. "Please, I… I…" you plead, the sensations overwhelming you.

"Do you want to cum?" Jongho's touch on your clit ignites a fire within you, coiling tight in your stomach. "Look at your jealous boyfriend," he taunts, knowing Yeosang's eyes are fixed on the scene. The impending punishment for your disobedience hangs heavy in the air.

“Cum, y/n.” As Jongho relentlessly pushes you to your limit, you struggle to hold on.“Gosh!” With a final, powerful thrust, you reached a peak, wetting jongho’s cock and causing Jongho to release with a gasp of pleasure.

Collapsing onto the sofa, you are overcome with exhaustion, unable to even sit up straight. "I need to take a bath," Jongho says and withdraws from you before heading to the bathroom.

Before you could react, you were enveloped in a warm embrace. Yeosang, his eyes now filled with tenderness, pulled you close. "Are you alright, my love?" he asked softly, his earlier anger seemingly a distant memory. You nodded wearily, resting your head on his shoulder.

"You did well, my love. But it seems that someone has broken the rules," he says, his words causing your eyes to widen in surprise. Before you could offer an explanation, he silences you with a finger on your lips.

"Let me see if you require punishment." Beneath his angelic facade, you sense a hint of malevolence.

With effortless grace, he scoops you up in his arms. "Would you like to try something new, my darling?" he inquiries, before placing you on the lap of Mingi, who sits half-naked on the massage chair. Mingi's large frame and impressive endowment set him apart from the others.

"You may only moan my name, understood?" he instructed, planting a gentle kiss on your temple before moving towards the sofa. "Yes, sir," you obediently replied, causing Mingi to whimper with desire. His alpha instincts were on the brink─he yearned to take you so fiercely that you would beg for mercy.

"Are you ready for me?" Mingi lifted your chin with his strong hand, locking eyes with your gaze filled with lust. "Yes," you murmured as he traced your lips with his finger.

Lifting you with a firm grip on your thighs, Mingi guides you down onto his impressive length. The size difference makes it a challenge for you to accommodate him, his girth filling you completely.

A gasp escapes your lips as your breath quickens. Mingi is just as sensitive as you, his member responding to every subtle movement.

"Are you alright?" "Yes…yes…" You weakly nod, trembling as you begin to move. Gripping his neck, you lean in to watch as he enters and exits your core, unable to take him in fully.

"Are you adjusting well?" Unbeknownst to you, Yunho has moved behind you, his gentle touch sending shivers down your spine.

"She's doing her best," Mingi smirks, enjoying the sight of your reactions. "Then you should assist her," Yunho suggests, pressing the 'down' button on the chair, causing it to recline slowly.

"Hmm…" Mingi's thrusts grow deeper, causing your toes to curl. Pressed against Mingi's chest by Yunho, a kiss on your neck is followed by a soft whisper, "Can you handle both of us at once?"

"I…I…I can, please," you stammer, surprised by your newfound confidence. Burying your face in Mingi's neck, Yunho joins in, sliding his length into the same entrance.

"Oh god! You're so tight!" Yunho groans at the sensation of your walls squeezing his sizable member. His length is even longer and thicker, intensifying the pleasure for all involved. Holding himself up with both hands, he pushes in a little and pulls out until only the tip is inside. Mingi, also, gently thrusts upward.

The intense friction between their bodies sends waves of unprecedented pleasure coursing through all three of you, eliciting messy moans that fill the air with a heady blend of scents and passion. As they thrust rhythmically, the sensation of double penetration overwhelms you. With each withdrawal and thrust, the intensity builds, driving you to the brink of release.

Struggling to contain your moans and cries, your mind is consumed by the chaos of pleasure. Their groans mingle with yours, their hands caressing your body, igniting a fiery heat within you that threatens to consume you. As Mingi's movements grow more urgent, you cling to him, nails digging into his skin, a mix of pain and pleasure fueling his desire to push you both to new heights.

In the heat of the moment, as Yunho matches Mingi's pace, the tightness in your bodies builds, signaling the impending release. The overwhelming sensations drive you to the edge, your moans turning to desperate cries as you teeter on the brink of climax.

"S-Sir," you gasp, knowing Mingi's weakness for the title, feeling his response in the arch of his body. With a plea for release, you surrender to the intensity of the moment, urging them on as you reach the peak of pleasure. Finally, as they both find their release, the culmination of your shared passion pushes you to reach the climax.

The knot in your stomach breaks as they pull out of you. “That’s incredible.” Yunho whispers, caressing your head as a comfort. Mingi wants to stand up but you collapse on him with your legs just like jelly, almost unable to support your body.

“Hey yeosang, your girlfriend almost passes out.” Yeosang laughs as he picks you up, whispering in your ears, “Baby, you are so good for us. Let’s clean up first, hm?” You nod, having no energy to say a word.

The warm water cascading down on your tired body felt like a soothing balm, washing away the physical and emotional exhaustion that had consumed you moments ago. Yeosang’s touch is gentle yet firm, a silent reassurance that he is there for you, that he cares for you deeply.

Lifting your chin, he places a kiss on your lips. “Are you okay now?” As you slowly regain your strength, you respond to him with a smile, “Yah.” “You’re so amazing, babe. But you still have two guests.” Oh yes…Hongjoong and Seonghwa…you remember they return to their room after yeosang picks you up to the bathroom.

“They have a surprise for you.”

Once you are clean and refreshed, Yeosang wraps a soft towel around you and leads you back to the bedroom. You can’t see anything as they turn off the light, only hearing a metal colliding sound.

“Oh here you are, y/n.” Seonghwa's voice makes you shocked a little bit as his hands reach down to hold yours.

Click The sound of the handcuffs locking your hands echoes, the cold touch of the metal makes you realize that you're handcuffed.

“You guys are watching fifty shades of grey, right?” Not knowing when Hongjoong moves behind you, he gently removes the towel and begins to caress your clit.

You tilt your head back, resting it on his shoulder, as you feel his fingers exploring your sensitive areas with a firm touch.

Suddenly, a warm, wet sensation envelops your clit, causing you to arch your back and press closer to Hongjoong.

"Feel good?" Seonghwa whispers, burying his face in your lower body and planting soft kisses along the way. The desire within you ignites once more, despite your exhaustion, as if your cravings have never been fully satisfied.

Seonghwa's movements become more intense and rapid, his long tongue delving into your core, expertly licking and sucking on your most sensitive spot.

Your hands find their way to his head, urging him to delve deeper and provide you with even more pleasure.

A sharp spank brings you back to reality, the force behind it causing you to cry out in surprise.

"You have a good pussy," Hongjoong remarks, delivering another firm spank that leaves a mark on your tender skin.

Each time his hand connects with your ass, the impact causes a delightful bounce that Hongjoong clearly enjoys.

Soon, your screaming is cut off by a kiss. Yeosang grabs your chin to give a passionate kiss, claiming you are his, only his.

You yield to his advances, allowing him to take the lead as his movement grows more urgent, more possessive.

Every time hongjong spanks you, you let out a whine and each vocalization causes vibrations that drive Yeosang closer to losing control.

He needs you to moan louder.

Parting your lips, Yeosang releases your chin. "Gotta play something," he says before disappearing into the darkness.

"Ha…ha!" You barely had time to process his departure before Hongjoong spanked you again. "How can you be so easily distracted?" you stammered. "I… I'm sorry."

"Don't be too hard on her, Hongjoong," Seonghwa interjected softly. But then, without warning, he plunges his tongue and fingers into your wet pussy, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from you.

"Oh, fuck!" you exclaim. Yeosang returns just as you are getting lost in the moment. You can’t see what he handed Seonghwa, but the sound of it brings you back to reality.

"Can you handle this?" Seonghwa asks as he sets the vibrator to its highest setting. The vibrating sound makes you swallow nervously.

"Yes, please… Hiss!" Before you can finish your sentence, he places the vibrator on your clit. The intense vibration sends numbness through your body, causing you to instinctively close your thighs.

"Open wide," Seonghwa commands. "Sorry, sorry… Fuck!" You moan as he moves the vibrator up and down and even gives a hard press. You can feel the tightness creeping up your cunt as you are going to climax.

Your body is totally in a mess, every small movement brings you to the edge.

“It’s time to take mine, girl.” Hongjoong voice is a little bit higher than others but still full with lust and desire. He steps forward as his cock presses against your ass, rubbing your entrance as if teasing you. “Ready?” Grabbing your shoulder, hongjoong enters your other hole in one go, making you scream as a new sensation washes over your body.

“Oh my god, so tight!” Hongjoong pumps into you with all his might, colliding your soft flesh and sending shivers throughout your body, like electricity coursing through your veins. Your lower core is pushing forward from hongjoong’s movement and Seonghwa’s tongue thrusts even deeper. His warm breath falls on your soaked clit, combined with the sucking sound, making you crave more.

Seonghwa suddenly takes out the vibrator and puts it on your clit again, repeating it as if never tired to tease you. “Want more?” “Yes, please.” As Seonghwa is going to push the vibrator into your cunt, yeosang stops him.

“You can say more dirty things, can you?”

“I want more, please.”

“You know I don’t only want this, darling.”

“Please, I want the vibrator deep inside me.”

“Oh?Only vibrator is enough?” Hongjoong thrusts so hard in a sudden, and you

almost burst out his name but you stop immediately.

“No, no, sir. Please, give me more, all of them.” All your rational flies away as taking control by these three men make you slip into a subspace.

“Good girls can get rewards, can you be good for us?” Yeosang thrusts his fingers into your wet pussy, thrust with every word.

“Yes…!Yes..!Please, sir!”

“But who breaks the rule?”

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“She’s just too excited.” Hongjoong smirks as he pulls your hair back, causing you to arch in a provocative position. With a sharp, intense thrust, he inadvertently hits your G-spot, eliciting a whimper of overstimulation from you. His smile widens as he repeats the motion, hitting the same sensitive spot once more.

The impact of his balls against your ass cheek adds an extra layer of sensation for both of you, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing in the room alongside your desperate pleas and moans, drawing groans of approval from the other men present.

"Cum, my doll, you're almost there," Hongjoong murmurs, his lips leaving a trail of wet kisses down your neck. The vibrator, now in place of Yeosang's fingers, delves deep into your core, making your legs tremble from pleasure.

"Such a beautiful mess you make when you come," Yeosang's voice is a seductive whisper in your ear, his words pushing you closer to the edge.

Unable to resist any longer, you clench tightly around Hongjoong's cock with your backside and climax, the vibrator aiding in your release. As you reach your peak, Hongjoong follows suit, finding his own release as he thrusts one final time.

“Girl, what's your word?” “Green…green…” “Right.” Yeosang guides you to the bed, where you sink into the soft sheets, feeling utterly drained.

“Please, sir. I can't take it anymore.”

“Yes, you can. Just one more, hm?”

“You can take it.” He murmurs, leaving a kiss on your temple.

“Just let us take the lead, babe.” As you struggle to keep your eyes open, the gentle touch against your back threatens to lull you into a deep slumber.

Your hands are held firmly above your head by Hongjoong, while Seonghwa effortlessly lifts your thighs, leaving your lower body suspended in the air.

"How hard do you want to be fucked tonight? Answer me, Y/N." Seonghwa asks with a deep voice.

"Just use me as your own fuck doll, please," As drowsiness overtakes you, any sense of inhibition fades away, and your awareness becomes hazy.

“As you wish, doll.” Seonghwa plunges into the depths without warning, causing you to arch your back and gasp for air. Your legs tremble as he begins to move, the slickness of your arousal allowing for a seamless rhythm. "Ah…hm…" You whimper at the cool touch on your chest, Yeosang cupping your breast, his fingers teasing your nipples as he peppered your cheek with kisses.

“Follow me, hyung.”

Yeosang and Hongjoong playfully toy with your nipple, their tongues sending shivers down your spine as Seonghwa continues his gentle thrusts. "See, it's easy to excite her." With a soft hum, those were the last words you heard before succumbing to exhaustion.

—--

You awaken to find that the night has passed and your lover has still not returned from their commitments. The prolonged period of love making has left your body stiff and achy, causing you to tremble as you move about.

"Ahh~~when will you return, Sangie?" you lament softly, seeking solace in the fabric of his t-shirt that adorns your form. The absence of his embrace, his tender caresses, and his reassuring presence leaves you feeling bereft. It is a rare vulnerability that only Yeosang is privy to, the aftermath of your intimate moments together.

The creak of the door interrupts your reverie, prompting you to hasten towards the entrance despite the discomfort in your limbs.

"We're back y/n," yeosang announces, and you cannot contain your joy as you throw yourself into his arms, clinging to him like a koala as he enfolds you in a protective embrace.

However, his attention is soon drawn to a detail that escapes your notice. "Hey, babe, are you not wearing a bra?" he queries, his gaze lingering on your attire.

It dawns on you that you are in Ateez's dorm, not the privacy of your own home. The realization that you are clad in Yeosang's oversized t-shirt hits you, the loose fabric prone to slipping and revealing more than intended.

As you stand before them, a sense of longing and desire emanates from your being, reminiscent of the passion that had been witnessed the day before.

It becomes apparent that they have noticed you are wearing nothing beneath the t-shirt, igniting a spark of mischief and intrigue in their eyes.

“Baby, you want round two?”

Oops…

[blackhairedjjun]

love flew away - k.th

pairing: kang taehyun x gn reader | genre / tropes: soft angst, amicable breakup, boxer!taehyun | word count: 1.1k | warnings: mentions of food and alcohol, pet names (love), heartbreak

part of my 300 followers event (event masterlist)

prompts - OVER?: after a mutually reluctant (and unwanted but necessary) break-up, the sender calls/visits the receiver and tells them that they’re still in love with them. + VOICEMAIL: sender leaves a voicemail on the receiver’s phone after failing to get through to them, and reveals their love for them. (requested by @probably-too-obssessed - "Also the prompt says mutual break up for Over but can it be tweaked to Taehyun breaking up with Reader for some unavoidable reason instead? Tysm and I'd be happy with whatever you write! Congrstulations again!")

author's note: hello!! i'm not sure if this is what you had in mind, taehyun is the one who initiates the breakup with the reader but it's still friendly on both ends...? so yeah haha. also i listened to love flew away by laufey & adam melchor as inspiration for this and i got carried away and wrote 1k, oops. but i hope you enjoy!!

taehyun took you out to dinner on your last day as a couple.

had it not been for the breakup he had decided on a week ago, it would have felt like just another blissful date with him. he ordered all your favorite dishes and asked about your day as you waited for the orders, his wide eyes shining with affection while you chatted on. his hand rested on top of yours on the table, warm and inviting, his slender fingers intertwining with yours halfway through the meal. and when he smiled that adorable little smile of his in between his silly remarks, you felt your heart growing light in your chest. 

the evening finished off with a little wine, and you drank just enough to keep your senses while bathing the rest of the evening in the haze of a dream. and with taehyun squeezing your hand and gazing at you with shining eyes, you really did feel like you were in a dream that you couldn’t wake from.

he wrapped your jacket around your shoulders as you left the restaurant and waited for a cab. he linked his arms around yours and stood close by to keep you from swaying too much, and the warmth of his side kept you grounded. 

“my flight leaves early in the morning,” he said.

“i know…”

you turned to him and were surprised to see tears brimming in his eyes. taehyun didn’t cry much, but he looked at you so solemnly that the gravity of everything began to crash down on you. you met his gaze and when you touched your cheek, you realized that your own tears were starting to fall too.

“y/n…” he grabbed both your hands in his, giving them a firm squeeze. “i’m sorry i had to do this.”

you attempted to croak out another “i know,” but your voice broke before you could get the words out. your tears flowed so much that your vision blurred, and you choked back a sob.

he moved forward and held you close, one hand patting your back gently and the other still grasping onto your hand. you buried your head in his chest and sobbed as you inhaled his scent for the last time. he wore the cologne you had gifted him for his birthday, fresh and musky but a little sweet, and the memory of the gift made you sob harder.

the two of you said nothing for several moments. taehyun repeated another “i’m sorry, love” into your hair and squeezed you a bit tighter. the top of your head felt damp as his own tears fell more freely.

you had remained calm in the week since he announced the breakup; it had been a perfectly rational decision that suited the both of you. taehyun was moving overseas to continue training for his boxing career, and he knew that you had no intentions of moving with him when your own career was starting to take off. he hated the thought of a long-distance relationship that neither of you wanted, and just imagining the loneliness and the arguments that would result from it made him shudder. so when he proposed that you two break up while you were still on good terms, you agreed.

it makes perfect sense, you told yourself; if you had stayed together, you both would have been unhappy. but now, sobbing in his arms and feeling his heartbeat for the last time, a different kind of unhappiness wrapped around you. already you could feel the cold of not having him by your side, the silence from not listening to him chatter about something he had read, the emptiness of losing the man you loved with your whole being for two years. you held onto him tightly, as if doing so would keep the future would coming and let him stay.

when your tears finally subsided, you lifted your head to meet taehyun’s eyes. his forehead rested on yours and he lifted a hand to brush away a lingering tear from your cheek. you closed your eyes, savoring the small act of affection, and he leaned in for one last kiss.

his lips felt gentler on yours than they had ever been.

一

you barely slept that night, and in the first hours of the morning you and taehyun exchanged your last texts goodbye before he was due for his flight. he had left for the airport with his training team, no outsiders allowed, so you wished him farewell from the solitude of your room. 

your emotions came in waves in those hours. just when you thought you were finally at peace with the end of your relationship, the ache in your heart would start up once again, and the pain filled your senses so much that it would keep you from sleeping. the flood of emotions subsided for good only later that morning; your energy crashed and you fell asleep in an instant despite the bright sun outside. when you awoke it was already well into the afternoon.

you lifted your head from the bed and reached for the phone on your nightstand, barely getting up to do so. taehyun usually sent you a text as soon as he arrived somewhere new, and though it made no sense to expect one from him 一 as of today, he and you were no longer a couple 一 your heart still jumped in expectation out of sheer habit. maybe, just maybe, he had sent one last text... one more “one last”...

what you did not expect was an unread voicemail. 

you pressed to listen, and the sound of taehyun’s voice alone was enough to bring you to tears.

hey, y/n. so i finally landed here... i tried calling you but you didn’t pick up. i just wanted to tell you thank you for these last two years. i wish we had more time together but... (a sigh.) i was happy, i really was. you have no idea how amazing of a person you are... you’re incredibly caring, you brighten people’s days, you always listen to me and you work hard not just for yourself but for the people you care about. including me... and i hope that you, well, you stay the amazing person i fell in love with. no, i know you will be. and i hope you’ll be happy always. um, that’s all... (his voice breaks.) no, that’s not all. i love you, y/n. i love you.

[blurredpurplemint]

Ooo can u do jealous bi han scenario/one shot?

i didn’t have inspiration at first but it suddenly came to me, like, ok why not. was supposed to be short but is kinda more than i anticipated (0.4k words). lot of dialogue cuz i suck at description lol. not proof read (will do it later, maybe, i’m tired, its 3 am, i have school, i’m talking way too much, gn)

───────────────────────────

you've been tasked with organizing the cleaning tools and supplies as it's your responsibility to take care of cleaning the backyard today.

while absorbed in the task, you failed to notice someone entering the room.

“so this where you were…”

caught off guard, you dropped what you were holding.

“by the gods! you- wait. how did you know i was there?”

“unimportant.”

you sighed as you picked up what you had dropped.

“i swear you almost scared me to death…”

“death may be imminent for you depending on your answer to my oncoming question.”

you paused, reflecting on his words with closed eyes and furrowed brows, then shook your head.

“ok… what have i done?”

you replied as you continued with your task.

“don't assume I overlooked your actions with that foolish monk.”

you quickly turned around to gauge his expression, and you could discern his anger beneath the mask. the least you could said was that you were doomed.

“who? raiden?”

“the other foolish monk.”

in an instant, everything made sense in your thoughts.

“ohhhh… kung lao! haha…”

“is this amusing to you?”

“it's just that... i don't understand what you're accusing me of.”

“quit feigning ignorance; you know exactly what I'm referring to.”

you huffed.

“if only!”

you pivoted entirely to confront him.

“why not be more direct about what I've done wrong? it could help us make progress. just saying.”

“what was the reason for him holding you earlier?”

“ohhhh…”

you recalled the events from this morning.

“explain.”

you waved your hand at him, dispelling his concerns.

“it was nothing; i just lightly twisted my ankle, that's all.”

“what?”

he nearly rushed to you, but you halted him in his tracks.

“bi-han, i said "lightly." it was truly nothing, just a slight twinge of pain. that's why kung lao got a bit carried away and assisted me.”

he huffed, swiftly raising his chin in disdain.

“he didn't just assist; he practically enveloped you.”

“if you had witnessed the entire scene, you would have observed me leaping out of his arms.”

“i should consider tearing his arms off for this.”

“huuum, sexy~”

“alright, I'm done dealing with your attitude.”

you began to laugh at his irritated expression, prompting a deadly glare from him. he then turned away to leave.

“oh come on! don't give me the cold shoulder now!”

you spoke amid laughter.

he halted, slowly pivoting to cast upon you the most exasperated expression.

“oop- no pun intended!”

his sigh was so deep and prolonged it caused the room temperature to plummet by at least five degrees which elicited a shiver from you.

you shrugged apologetically, wearing a sorry smile, and approached him slowly. softly chuckling, you ran your hand over his torso, eliciting an eye roll of annoyance from him due to your feeble attempts to soothe his nerves. he subtly made sure you weren't limping.

“don't be upset with me. you're well aware that I have no interest in him.”

he didn't respond but glanced back at you with a raised eyebrow, prompting a smile from you. you couldn't resist the urge to tease him.

“you are incredibly cute when jealousy surfaces, grandmaster.”

“i am not.”

“oh yes, you are!”

you spoke as you gently tapped his torso.

“whatever you stance, i’ll leave you to it. i have duties to fulfill.”

he said as he walked past you, intentionally bumping into you to clear his way. you let out a small whine in response to his abruptness.

“bi-han! we are not done here!”

“in my perspective, we are.”

you sighed, crossing your arms. you knew he was thickheaded before, but now he's just downright childish.

you watched him leave, but he suddenly halted in his tracks and spoke without turning back.

“i will meet you tonight… we’ll dine out.”

you gasped in excitement, placing your hand over your mouth to suppress your laughter.

“ow… you big softie <3”

he grunted and shook his head, immediately regretting his statement.

[nighttime-horrors]

Please I'm on my knees BEGGING for ANY habit content I'm starving out here 😔

☼︎ False Hope ☼︎

⊹ฺ Requested by the lovely @jageridk2

⊹ฺ Characters: HABIT (EverymanHYBRID)

⊹ฺ Contains: Angst; Love for Evan (because I love him so much); Little bit of fluff; The title kinda gives things away, haha. Oops.; Hurt/Comfort kinda vibes if you squint; (Seemingly) More Evan, but it's still very much HABIT; No use of Y/N; Gender Neutral! Reader; SFW

⊹ฺ Note: Thank you so much for requesting, lovely!! I've been in a total slump, but I'm so happy I could finally write this for you! I hope you enjoy! <3 <3

—

Your stomach twists, jaw clenched with a sob trapped in your throat.

You didn't want to cry, you didn't want to feel like screaming, but you couldn't stop yourself. Your tears are hot against your cheeks and despite trying to keep quiet, your sniffles are loud and the squeakiest bits of your sobs escape your lips. You were so grateful to the universe to let you be alone when you finally broke down. Seeing Vinny looking at you would make you sad and HABIT would just make it worse, in one way or another. Thinking about anything HABIT would do just to see you cry more made you sob harder, the sound loud and almost echoing in the empty space.

You hated what your life was now. You wanted your old house back; the house that didn't lead you to someone else's bathroom depending on what door you opened. You wanted your friends back; Jessa's death left you distraught and the deaths of Stephanie and Jeff weren't any better. And gods, Evan. You missed him and the life the two of you had together.

Every time you saw him in the last few years, he just looked so broken that it hurt you to look at him. He was so exhausted and confused and so clearly traumatized. Pulling Evan into your arms and just letting him sob was the least you could do. You hated that the man you loved was in this position. It was so unfair and there was nothing you could do. Especially when he looked at you and asked what HABIT put you through while in his body. You could never get out of telling him, and you would both be stuck trying to cling to the other, despite Evan wanting to avoid you due to shame.

"Baby, you okay?" You gasp at the voice you hear, everything in your body suddenly freezing in surprise.

Baby. Baby, not Bunny.

Despite the tears in your eyes, you still look up to see the love of your life. Or at least what looked like him. The pet name gave you hope, but you weren't sure yet. No matter how broken down you were, you weren't going to let your guard down.

He slowly crouches down next to you and you fight the urge to flinch away. If it was Evan like it seemed, you didn't want to hurt him. You would rather finally die than hurt Evan more than HABIT and the universe already have (and inevitably will in the future). The grip you had around yourself loosened, though, and your sobs were reduced to little sniffles and hiccups.

Once Evan was on the ground, he carefully reached a hand out to you, not touching you until you gave some kind of okay. You looked at his outstretched hand and let out a deep breath. You had no idea what the breath was for, but you knew you needed to get it out. Carefully, you placed your hand in his palm.

The person in front of you looked like Evan. Even with the slight rasp in his voice, he still felt like Evan. HABIT's somehow lower voice always warped Evan's in his limited time back in his own body.

You wanted to scold yourself for relaxing so quickly. You shouldn't have and you knew that, but you couldn't help it. It was Evan, and at the end of the day, he was all you wanted. His comfort, his love, to see him smile again. You would take what you could get. After a moment of neither of you saying anything or even really moving, Evan opened himself up a bit more, pulling you into his lap, holding your balled up body in his arms.

With that comfort, your tears came back. You felt safe. You knew you were safe. Evan holding you was all you needed to feel even close to normal again. "Oh, baby, you're okay." You sigh in relief at his words. You would be okay. You were okay.

You nodded into the crook of his neck before taking a deep, shaky breath and pulled away to look at him. His eyes looked dark and his face seemed indifferent, but you didn't fully trust it. You still had tears in your eyes and your head was beginning to pound. You had the love of your life back with you and that was all that mattered to you.

Evan looked down at you and his eyes seemed to soften a little. The hand that was higher on your back moved to the back of your neck, carefully moving his thumb against the back of your neck as though he was trying to ease the tension. Before you could even begin to smile at the man holding you, the rest of his fingers wrapped around your neck, a firm, threatening pressure sinking into your skin. You couldn't process what was happening.

Evan kept looking at you, malice filling his gaze and the grin that was forming on his lips. You wanted to scream, but your body was frozen. "Aww, bunny..." Evan's voice was replaced by HABIT's in an instant and your lungs finally found the air to scream, only for HABIT's rough, calloused hand covered your mouth, muffling the sound. "You're just too easy, huh?"

[rainydrawstuff]

Wei Wuxian is a (soft) necromancer

Print | Wallpaper

This is based on my favorite “yiling laozu moment” from the novel. (Let’s be moots, if you love mdzs btw! I’m new around here)

Wei Wuxian listened carefully. Kneeling on the ground with one knee, he bent down and murmured something toward the earth below him. Suddenly, a bump formed below the surface. As though a pale flower had grown out of the black soil, a skeleton arm slowly broke through the dirt. The portion of the skeleton arm was weakly suspended in the air. Wei Wuxian reached out and grabbed it. He bent down even lower. His long hair fell from his shoulder, masking half of his face. He pressed his lips toward the skeleton hand and whispered something. Then he was quiet, as though he was listening for something. A while later, he nodded lightly. The hand formed the flower bud again and withdrew into the soil.

(The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, Chapter 67, translation by Exiled Rebels Scanlations)

Since MXTX used a flower metaphor, I made a nice and colorful field instead of the dark and cold dirt of the burial mound. I wanted to add all the little details but still give the illustration my own twist, like the hair fall on his shoulder and covering his face (the other side for illustration purposes) or him pressing his lips to kiss the hand as if in gratitude for sharing their story with him.

His tears are my own addition. To me, Wei Ying's power is tied to how deeply empathetic he is, so I wanted to show his sensitive side when listening to a spirit. This piece is basically me romanticizing necromancy a little (oops) instead of going for a dark vibe. We love soft Wei Ying<3

I made a few color versions. I love how such a small change can make you feel like it's a completely different situation: the first warmer like daylight, cool moonlight is more melancholic, pale gives a winter/snowy vibe, and radiant is like you’re wearing rose-colored glasses haha

(Let me know if you’re interested in any of these versions and I’ll add them to my shop!)

[blushblushbear]

The Kitsune’s if they were Yandere’s?😃

who says they aren't >;3

okay but no seriously--

TRIGGER WARNING FOR YANDERE SHIT--- manipulative, violent, toxic as hell, you guys know the drill

Aki

really brings the dere into yandere

he seems so cute and sweet and harmless

and he is!

mostly...

he tries not to show it

and when he does show it he plays it off as haha cutesy I'm just a little guy

but he's got a jealous streak a mile wide

he jokes around about 'the great Aki saw you first'

but you do not understand the depths of his dibs...

has a lot of animalistic tendencies

and he plays it either as innocent or kinky

sorry I bit you, I just couldn't control myself <:c

but don't fall for it

he's marking you

also it's funny how the people he pranks for revenge involving you seem to have their pranks go 'horrible wrong'

oops

welp, guess that guy only has one eye now but serves him right for talking like that to you

plays like he's joking when he acts a little possessive

'hey bud, they're spoken for >:T'

but the moment your back is turned he is giving them a look that they will see in their nightmares

likes to used pranks to remind people he's 'always watching'

and maybe he is maybe he isn't

it's hard to tell

always super sweet and loving with you

and maybe a little insecure

you love him don't you?? <:c

you'll stay with him forever right?? <:c

you're all his right??? <:c

he puppy eyes it but he's ready to take matters into his own hands if any of that ever changes...

don't buy those puppy eyes

Haru

WOOF POSSESSIVE

I mean, all of them are but HIM ESPECIALLY

also SUPER jealous

is hyper aware of the way people might try and get into your pants

mostly cause he does the same thing lol

also a big fan of marking you and isn't even shy about making that known

what?? gotta give you a few bite marks to let them know you're mine

loves to put his scent on you, more marking

is usually constantly hovering

another king of the haha yeah totally :) then once your back is turned HE'S GLARING DAGGERS >8l

likes to have you wear his stuff so people know your taken

if someone is rude to you he'll pull them off to the side for 'a quick chat'

and they are never heard from again

very much standing behind you with his hand on his sword daring a motherfucker to try him

but he's super sweet to you always

constant love bombing

lots of gifts

lots of spoiling you

declarations of love and devotion as he kisses your hand

and you think he's flirting or just being a little romantic

but no he's so dead serious you don't even know

will kidnap you if it comes to that

worried about you being safe

also don't bring up the idea of you dying, either by natural causes or other means, cause it will trigger a melt down

tears and a little bit of violence and a whole lot of not letting you leave for anything

also is about ready to restart the clan wars if he sees the other kitsune touch you for even a second

violently or romantically

your his precious mate and no one else can have you

Fuyu

WELP

this dude is already lonely and violent at the start of his route so

surprising no one he can and will get that way again at the drop of a hat if it involves you

he is actually the most reluctant to backhand a bitch since he did all this growing for you

but don't get it twisted he did all this growing FOR YOU

without you he's not actually grown (at least in yandere form)

he will kill someone very quickly if he thinks even for a second that they'll hurt you

also another dude who will restart these clan wars over you

will rip out the other kitsune's throats if he sees them near you

also more marking here

he's actually very gentle with his marking

until he's feeling insecure

then he bites a little too hard

and is very tearful and apologetic afterwards

he feels like a monster

but he will do it again if jealousy takes hold of him

another one whose easily triggered to dramatics but his aren't always violent

well they ARE just not VIOLENCE you see

violent break downs

violent sobbing

may border on threats of harming himself if you leave

very manipulative but he gets away with it cause it all comes from a place of pain and you're a bleeding heart

will kidnap you and then swan about on how he's such a monster but he can not let you go but he hates himself for it

true drama llama

but when he's sweet or romantic it's like a poem

everything he does he does out of love

you just kinda wish cha boy was more fucking stable about it.....