another-lost-mc · 1 year ago
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Angels' Commendation MICHAEL x gn!Reader x SIMEON 3.2k Words | NSFW | Smut | Michael-centric | Poly Relationship Content Warnings: Reader uses gn!pronouns. Alternating present/memory POV. Pet name used (little lamb). Penetrative sex, threesome, creampies, implied overstimulation, scenting/marking, fluff, flirting, teasing, food kink if you squint, sex in a semi-public place, jealousy, light dom/sub undertones. Prev: Angels at the Door | Next: A Demon's Curiosity
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Your departure from the Celestial Realm is met with little fanfare. Michael offered to host a formal celebration like a banquet or dance, but you balked at the very idea and insisted nothing of the sort was necessary. You finished most of your preparations yesterday and already said goodbye to the angels you spent the most time with. They gave you their well wishes for your journey home and their hopes that you would return again soon.
When you came to the Celestial Realm nearly a month ago, you brought a single bag with some clothing and toiletries. Today, you’re leaving with much more than you brought. There are small tokens from your new angel friends in some spare bags that Simeon procured for you. Michael also gave you a large basket full of gifts for Diavolo and his fallen brothers in the Devildom.
Luke baked a cake for you to take back to share with everyone, and it’s carefully wrapped in a large box. He giggled and whispered that he also made a special cupcake just for you, in case Beel eats the other cake before you can have some.
Simeon helps you organize your belongings near the Celestial Gates that will take you back to the Devildom. If Luke weren't nearby, he'd drag you into one last kiss before you go; he could lick his lips and savour the taste of you when you're gone.
He glances over where Michael and Luke are waiting. You haven't even left yet, and Luke is already asking him when you'll be able to return. Simeon and Michael share a knowing look; your presence will be formally requested before too long, whether your demon friends like it or not.
Simeon slides the straps of your bags onto your shoulders, and he steps away once you reassure him that everything feels secure. Luke smiles when you hold up his cake box, and you wiggle your fingers at him since you can’t wave goodbye properly. You share one last fleeting glance with Luke–and your lovers–before you finally walk through the portal and back to the Devildom.
Once you’re gone, the three angels turn and walk back towards the Celestial Halls together. "Did you give them a present, Michael?" Luke asks curiously.
He already asked Simeon earlier what his gift for you was. Simeon replied that he gave you a short story he wrote himself. (It was a smutty romance about three characters that resembled you and your two angels, of course). 
Michael looks down and his lips quirk into a smile. He ruffles Luke's hair playfully and chuckles when the young angel pouts. "Ah, we exchanged parting gifts earlier before we joined you for breakfast."
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You groaned at the sudden emptiness when Michael withdrew his cock from your body. He chuckled against your shoulder as two of his thick fingers took its place. The sounds his fingers made as he thrust them inside you was obscene. His and Simeon's cum both leaked out around the intruding digits and smeared the inside of your thighs.
"Don't worry little lamb, we'll keep you nice and full. You want something to remember us by, don't you?" 
You nodded dazedly as endless sensations rippled through you. Your body twitched and trembled from their attention. Simeon was plastered against your front, his hands gripping your hips while he chased beads of sweat down your chest with his tongue. He dragged his teeth over your skin and sucked each of your nipples between his lips. He glanced at you through his dark lashes when you whined and arched into his touch.
Michael's chest was a comforting weight against your back, and you leaned against him to keep yourself upright. One of his hands moved inside you, and the other trailed along the side of your face and down your neck. He pressed down gently when he grazed over the marks he and Simeon made. He tilted your chin towards him and kissed you over your shoulder. It was wet and sloppy, and you moaned when his tongue flicked teasingly into your mouth. 
Your skin was sticky with sweat and cum. Your legs trembled and you felt overheated, but you still wanted more. You reached back and fisted one hand in Michael's hair while the other reached down and grasped Simeon's hard, leaking cock that bobbed heavily between you. Michael hissed when you pulled on his hair; Simeon groaned when you pumped him lazily, and his hips bucked against you.
"What do you want, my love?" Simeon whispered when he leaned forward and tugged at your earlobe with his teeth.
It was hard to form words when they worked so diligently together to fuck your brains out. Your mind was a fog of pleasure and longing. You know you were leaving soon, but you didn't go. You wanted–
"M-more," you whimpered. "Want more of you, please?"
Michael crooked his greedy fingers inside you, and you rocked your hips so that they'd keep massaging against that spot that made your toes curl. You shuddered between them, and Michael brushed his lips against your temple.
"You ask so nicely," he murmured. He rubbed his cock against your ass; he was already hard and leaking again. He knew you were all running out of time, but he couldn’t refuse you. "We'll give you what you whatever you want."
Simeon's cock slipped from your grip when he maneuvered himself in front of you. He laid back against the pillows. One of his legs was between yours, and the other was bent at the knee and pressed against your outer thigh to support you. Michael nudged your shoulders down and bent you over until your chest was pressed against Simeon's. He groped your ass and positioned himself behind you.
Simeon cradled the back of your neck and brought you towards him for a heated kiss. Michael leaned over you and kissed along your spine just as he sank his cock back inside you. All three of you groaned in unison, overwhelmed by the sensual depravity of being together like this. Simeon was jerking himself off beneath you and panting your name desperately as he watched your expressions above him. You closed your eyes and lost yourself in the heated daze of their lust as Michael fucked you one last time.
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When you arrive at the Demon Lord’s castle, all of your demon friends are waiting anxiously to see you. Barbatos instructs the Little Ds to help you with your belongings and you hand him Luke’s cake for safekeeping. As soon as your hands are free, you're crowded by the seven demon brothers that clamor for your attention like they haven't seen you in years.
There's a small luncheon prepared to celebrate your return, and the demons lead you to the elegant dining room where you can finally relax. Asmo plunks down in the seat next to yours and admires the Celestial Realm tunic you're wearing.
"That style looks nice on you," he offers, and there's something soft in his gaze as he remembers how much he liked wearing angelic-style garments too.
"Michael provided me with a lot of Celestial clothes to try while I was there," you explain with a smile, looking down as you smooth the front of your shirt. "I left most of them behind for the next time I visit, but I wanted to bring this one back with me–it's my favourite."
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You noticed that Michael was acting strangely since you stepped into the dining room for breakfast. Raphael and Gabriel bickered on either side of you while Simeon rolled his eyes at them across the table. You tried to focus on your plate, but you could feel the heavy weight of Michael's gaze lingering on you.
"Is there something wrong?" you asked him after breakfast when you were able to speak to him alone. 
His gaze flickered between your eyes and your chest. "That outfit you're wearing–" he started to say, but he faltered and cleared his throat, "–that was what you were wearing in the garden that day with Simeon."
Michael told you how he found you together in his garden by accident, and you still feel a little embarrassed thinking about it. Your cheeks grew warm, and you looked down at your top nervously. "Oh...do you not like it, or–?"
Michael shook his head quickly. "No, it's not that. It's...well, it reminds me of the day I realized I had feelings for you." He looked away and it was suddenly his turn to be bashful. "And it reminds me of how much desire I have for you."
He glanced around before he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you closer to him. "Perhaps you'd like to accompany me to the garden? I have a bit of spare time before I’m needed for my next meeting," he murmured against the shell of your ear. You felt his cock hardening against your hip and you gasped softly.
"Wait, what about Simeon?" you asked, but you realized you didn’t need to worry. Michael was already sending him a message, and he slipped his phone back into his robes when he finished.
"He's going to meet us there." Michael held out his arm to you, and you followed him towards the closest exit leading to the gardens outside.
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Lunch at the Demon Lord’s castle is a boisterous affair. Everyone chatters excitedly about your return, and Lucifer mentions off-handedly that it's nice to have tolerable company again.
Diavolo asks for your impressions of Michael after living together these past few weeks, and you nearly choke on your drink. You clear your throat and tell him that Michael was very kind and generous to you. Diavolo nods approvingly, and he mentions the basket of gifts Michael sent back with you. You didn't look at it that closely, but according to Lucifer, they're all exquisite delicacies from the Celestial Realm.
You're not surprised when Diavolo mentions that Michael also enclosed a letter for him as well. Apparently the Archangel thanked the Devildom for allowing them the honour of your company. He finished the letter stating that the angels of the Celestial Realm eagerly await your next visit.
"I don't think we could've asked for a better result," Diavolo exclaims, and Lucifer begrudgingly agrees. 
Conversation lingers on your trip and what it was like living among the angels. It's hard to keep a straight face when Michael or Simeon's names are mentioned throughout the meal. There's still a dull throb between your legs from this morning, and the biting marks they left on your skin are tender underneath your clothes.
When the lunch dishes are cleared away, Barbatos starts slicing Luke's cake for everyone. (He murmurs quietly that he's impressed with the young angel's creation, and you remind yourself to pass along the message to him later.)
Diavolo claps his hands when Barbatos places a generous slice in front of him. "Luke made this? How delightful!" He grins at you from his seat at the head of the table. "Is Michael's sweet tooth as notorious as Lucifer claims?" 
Lucifer glares at Diavolo but the prince ignores him. You bite your lip and nod as Barbatos comes to your side and puts a slice of cake in front of you. "It is. This particular cake happens to be Michael's favourite."
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"Knock-knock," you said teasingly when you pushed open the door to Michael's office. The Archangel was leaning back in his chair, running a hand through his hair while he frowned at the document in his hand. He glanced at you when you stepped inside and closed the door behind you.
"I still have more work to take care of tonight, little lamb," he offered apologetically, but you grinned when his eyes lingered on the plate in your hand.
"Can I tempt you to take a short break? You've been here since dinnertime." You brought a slice of cake from the kitchen with you. It's unusual for Michael to rush away from the table before dessert, but he claimed an urgent matter from another part of the realm needed his attention. 
It's possible you missed him and wanted an excuse to see him, but you left that feeling unsaid between you.
He looked torn, and you went in for the final blow. "And I thought Lucifer had the worst work-life balance of anyone I ever met."
That certainly got his attention; he put his papers aside and waved you over. "Realms forbid I let him be better than me at something, especially when it means passing up a chance to visit with you." 
You offered Michael the plate, but he took it from you and set it on his desk. You made an undignified yelping noise when he suddenly grabbed you by the waist and pulled you onto his lap.
When you regained your balance, you were straddling his thighs. He leaned back in his seat and licked his lips. "Since my little lamb interrupted my very important work, I think it's only fair that they feed me. What do you think?"
You couldn't help the bashful smile that bloomed across your face, and his eyes darkened when you picked up the plate and offered him a forkful of the fluffy vanilla cake he loves so much.
"Did you have some cake already?" he asked you in a rough voice after you fed him a couple small bites.
You nod–you ate dessert with Simeon and the others in the dining room. But there's a smear of whipped cream clinging to the corner of Michael's mouth, and you feel inspired. "I wouldn't mind a little more," you murmured as you inched forward and swiped your tongue across his lips. You leaned back and smacked your lips with a satisfied hum.
You had just enough time to put the plate back on the desk before Michael surged forward and kissed you. He licked into your mouth and groaned deep in his chest as he chased the sugar-sweet taste on your tongue. 
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Beel sits across the table from you, and even after he's had two slices of cake, he's still drooling and looking for more. Satan grasps his shoulder when he tries to stand up and reach for the remaining half-a-cake. Barbatos winks at you when he slides the cake further away from him, and Beel gives up and slumps back in his seat. 
Satan grumbles complaints about his brother when you finally catch his gaze. "I was able to borrow the book about Celestial Blessings you wanted to read," you mention to him between bites of your dessert. "It's packed in one of my bags. I'll give it to you when we go back to the House of Lamentation."
He looks genuinely shocked and leans forward on his elbows with excitement. "Really?" He glances down the table where Lucifer and Diavolo are having a heated discussion about something before he looks at you again. "I thought it was in the restricted section of their library?" he asks quietly.
You shrug and look down at your plate as you slice off another forkful of cake. Your cheeks feel a little warm. "Michael gave me permission to borrow it, as long as I bring it back the next time I visit."
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The restricted section of the Celestial Library is dimly lit and eerily quiet—or it would be, except for the soft, slapping sounds of skin-on-skin as Michael fucked you against one of the shelves. Your pants were pooled around your ankles, and his wings brushed against you every time he snapped his hips forward. You gripped the shelf in front of you for leverage and rolled your hips back in time with his thrusts.
“I didn’t want to bother you,” you panted between shaky moans. “Simeon said your permission wasn’t necessary for—oh, fuck,” you whimpered when his cock dragged along your walls just right.
He huffed and slowed his movements, grinding lazily against you and denying you the delicious friction he knew you craved. “And you thought asking that flirt of a records-keeper was a better idea, hm?” He leaned forward and scraped his teeth along your jaw and licked at your neck.
When you tilted your head to give him more access, he hummed and sucked a mark into the delicate skin below your ear. The hand that wasn’t fisted in the collar of your shirt snaked down your front and stroked at the arousal between your legs. You sighed and undulated your hips to coax his fingers where you wanted them most.
“If I—if I knew you’d react like this, I would’ve visited Metatron sooner,” you teased, your tongue loosened by pleasure from his sinful ministrations.
Michael’s chest rumbled behind you, and he suddenly leaned back and pulled you flush against him. “You play with fire, my little lamb,” he snarled into your ear. “Open your mouth.”
You whimpered and obeyed him—how could you not when the gravely tone of his voice made arousal simmer deep inside you? When your mouth fell open, he slipped two fingers inside and pressed down on your tongue. You closed your lips and sucked—you moaned when your tasted your own arousal.
“Very good,” he whispered in your ear, "you're so perfect for me." He kissed your temple and starting fucking into you, faster and harder than before. His fingers smothered your cries and you closed your eyes as pleasure rolled through you. You tilted your head back against his shoulder as he moved your body to meet his thrusts.
His rhythm became erratic as he pushed you both towards release, and he groaned when he felt your body clench around his cock. “That’s it, give yourself to me. I’ve got you, little lamb. I’ve got you.”
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After a festive but exhausting lunch at Diavolo's castle, you walk back to the House of Lamentation with Lucifer and his brothers. They help carry your bags and even though some of them complain, you know they're all happy to see you again. You’re nestled between the group of them and you realize you genuinely missed them too.
You’re grateful that your room is how you left it, albeit with slightly more dust than before. The brothers scatter once you've given them souvenirs from your trip and you finally have some time to yourself. You’re about to start unpacking when there's a quiet knock on your door; when you turn around, you smile at Asmo who’s leaning against the door frame.
"Oh, hi!” You greet him with a beaming smile. “I brought something for you from the apothecary, but I can't remember which bag it's in. Come in for a sec while I look, okay?" Your bags are piled on your bed, and you unzip them one at a time to find the little basket of body care you brought back for him.
"No rush," he says airily as he closes your door and plops down in the chair at your desk. "There was something I forgot to ask you earlier, anyway."
You rummage through your bags. "Oh? What's that?" You glance at him over your shoulder. He waits until you look at him, and he sniffs the air deliberately. Your anxiety spikes, and you instinctively clench your thighs together. You nearly forgot about the damp spot in your underwear, the traces of your lovers' last gift to you. 
Asmo's lips curl into a teasing smirk. "So, how long have you been fucking Michael?"
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flygonscales · 1 month ago
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2 weeks at uni and I’ve already reached peak procrastination. I found masking tape and somehow decided that the best use of my time was to make a tiny Belphemon-sleep.
#I actually can’t wait till student finance have processed my dsa#maybe next year or something I should look for an adhd diagnosis? if I’m having this much trouble focussing and a cup of coffee doesn’t work#anymore as a way for me to focus maybe I should see if meds would help?#(when I got my autism diagnosis i was also told its possible that I have adhd. I’d privately suspected adhd before I considered autism)#like. some days I can focus. it feels like I’m balancing on a knife-edge and it’s very stressful#and I can’t do it on command or anything#but sure#seeing one piece of fanart with Boy from tts#and my whole day goes down the drain because I can’t drag myself away from the series#and listening to video game soundtrack helps but then if I do that too much I start feeling lonely but I can’t listen to a podcast because#then I focus on that above the work I’m meant ti be doing#and even then I might look up other stuff about the video game I’m listening to#and the worst times are when I become self aware and that really breaks my focus but I know I’ve got to keep going#and then at the end of the day I feel awful because I’ve done about 1-2 hours actual work in 6 hours#time I could have spend doing other work or#heaven forbid#enjoying myself#that was more of a rant than I expected#I’m doing ok I think#I hope#i know I’m not meant to compare myself with others#but I’ve done more work than my flatmates#and that at least makes me feel a little better#I’m going to get myself a coffee now#hopefully that’ll help me today#my goal is at least 200 words#then I can stop#actually autistic#autism#personal rant
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chuluoyi · 4 months ago
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𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄 !
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- gojo satoru x reader // zen'in naoya x reader
the path of love is never easy for you, be it now or back then. love, pain, betrayal and tragedy — you have been through them all. after all is said and done, you just want one chance at happiness. so will your second marriage be what you always want it to be, or will it be one last heartbreak you have to go through?
genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—might be ooc, angst, hurt/comfort, a lot of fluff, marriage of convenience, explicit smut (semi-public sex), pregnancy, childbirth, mentions of curses
note: loosely inspired by and taking some elements of manhwa remarried empress. this is the final part of remarried empress au trilogy! wc. 9.4k ! i'm so happy with how well-received this little series is :') thank you so, so much for reading!
credit header goes to @/poro06625649 in twitter!
prev. all hail the empress | the crown of diamonds
general masterlist | series masterlist
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“Satoru...”
Once, to you, love meant complete acceptance. To be able to accept someone so wholly, unquestionably, as they are.
Until you excelled in everything, a stone throw away from perfection even, and Naoya still spurned you.
When you married Satoru out of sheer impulse just to preserve your standing, you thought you had found that kind of love at last. Until it became clear a part of him wanted something else, and you couldn't accept that.
At the same time, you also felt like a hypocrite, because you wanted that love for you, and yet you couldn't give the same to him and even doubted him altogether. Using each other, you had even said.
But right at this moment... none of that mattered anymore.
Not when Satoru forcefully hurled Suguru aside, fought his way through the searing heat, tearing away debris after debris, punching through the remnants of the collapsing pagoda, all while dreadfully screaming your name.
“Where are you!? Gods, answer me!” He looked like a desperate madman. He was hyperventilating, bloodied, and yet he kept violently flinging the debris, determined to find you.
That sight of him struck you straight in the heart. He could've obliterated the whole tower with his ability if he wanted to, but he didn't. Doing so would seal your fate entirely.
He yelled your name once again, pouring his anguish and frustration into the air that his voice grew hoarse. “Where are you!”
If this isn't love, you thought almost tearfully. Then what is?
“Satoru!” and so you forced yourself to walk, despite being on the verge of collapse. Seeing him like this tore your heart to shreds. “Satoru!”
He stopped abruptly, his chest still heaving violently before turning to you. At first, he thought it was the voice inside his head. Everything around him was a chaotic blur, so when he turned to find you standing there, miraculously unharmed, he was stunned.
A shuddering breath escaped him as he gazed at you, the blue in his eyes filled with so much fright you had never seen before. "Y/N...?"
You staggered on your feet, your dress appearing singed at the edges—but you were there, alive.
"What are you doing!?" you admonished, almost in tears. "Why do you hurt yourself like that!?"
Suddenly, it was hard to breathe, but he didn't hesitate. He flung the splinter in his hand away and sprinted towards you, roughly pulling you into his arms.
"—!" he rasped, almost gasping for air, while squeezing the back of your head closer. "Heavens, I thought... I thought you were—!"
Satoru was trembling so badly in your embrace, unable to utter another word as he buried his face in your shoulder. He was beyond shaken—grunting, taking sharp breaths, and holding you so tightly that it left you at a loss of words.
He only pulled back once, albeit shakily, to have a good look of your face. There was one bruise on your cheek and you were covered in soot.
But you were still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.
"I'm fine..." you tried reassuring him, lips wobbling, placing a hand on his palm that touched your face. "I'm fine now..."
Then Satoru pulled you close again, and you came willingly. Simply holding you, he inhaled the scent of the roses mixed with ash in your hair, feeling your breath on his neck.
To see this man, usually so self-assured, reduced to such a mess out of fear for you touched you deeply. You nestled closer to him, feeling a sense of peace wash over you.
In that moment, as you two clung to each other, nothing else matters.
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"You've always coveted what I have..."
The ice in your eyes and the chill in your words felt like a curse. Hanabi was beside herself every day ever since she had left Western Empire. No way, she even saw you in her dreams!
Granted, her impulsiveness had almost cost her everything. She shouldn't have placed that curse on the necklace— she shouldn't have dared to attempt it in the first place.
But seeing that piece that had tied you two together—the testament to Naoya's remaining affection for you, however small it was—made Hanabi burn with jealousy. Why did he remember you still? Hadn't he dethroned you and chosen her?
Also, why did you put it as if she had been trying to take all that you had? She was now a royal consort, she was just demanding what she was due!
"...and sooner or later, that will be your downfall."
Hanabi shivered as an intense chill seemed to enter her body, spreading rapidly to her limbs and brain, immobilizing her. What is it? Why are your words struck her to the core?
"My lady, are you alright?" her attendant walked up to her as she clutched her chest.
"I-I..." Hanabi faltered, trying to even her breath. "I'm not feeling that well..."
"Shall I get the physician? You do look pale..."
"Please do."
Damn you. The more she thought about it, the angrier she became. You must've cursed her, that must be it! Why else did she keep hearing your voice?
"Sending you back to Naoya is a punishment in itself—you know that by now."
No, she had come this far. Even if she couldn't have Naoya's favor, even if she couldn't become the empress... she would fight tooth and nail to remain a consort.
After all, all her life, she was meant for this.
. . .
And true to her conviction... once again, fortune favors the bold.
"My lady, congratulations! You're with child!"
Hanabi blinked at the cheerful royal physician as he delivered the news. "R-really? Are you... sure?"
"Certainly! Oh, this is great news! The emperor will surely be delighted by this news!"
For a full minute, Hanabi sat there, stunned in amazement. She had really done it, and if it was a boy this time, then...
"Aha..." she burst into a small titter then, before breaking into a full-blown laugh. "Ahahaha!"
You're wrong, Empress Y/N. This time, I will show you.
"Congratulations, my lady!" the ladies around her gathered, showering her with praises. And Hanabi knew that finally, her time had come.
True paradise begins in hell. And now, I've risen from that hell.
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Contrary to what you told Satoru, you were, in fact, not fine.
Shoko was the one who led you out of the burning pagoda, sustaining burns herself in the process. Immediately after you found Satoru, who was frantically on the verge of losing his sanity searching for you, you collapsed in his arms.
You had inhaled a significant amount of smoke, there was a gash in your arm, and you were even bleeding due to the stress.
And therefore, you were put on bedrest for the next upcoming weeks by the royal physician's orders and by extension, Satoru's.
However, during those three weeks, Satoru never visited you even once.
. . .
"Are you sure you're well enough to be walking around already?"
After being confined to your bedchamber for what felt like forever, you decided to take a stroll in the royal gardens. Shoko was the one in charge of watching you like a hawk these days. She didn't usually follow you around—you noticed she often went out on her own—but lately, she insisted on being by your side.
"Mm-hmm, I'm perfectly well now, Shoko," you gave her a smile as you admired the blue roses in the bushes. "You don't have to keep an eye on me all the time. I'm feeling better already."
You would be lying if you said you didn't miss your husband. A part of you of course wanted Satoru to check on you, or at least, your baby. Three weeks had passed, and your belly was now rounder and heavier.
"Oh, well... That's good then..."
Shoko seemed a bit unsure, frowning even, and you had your guesses, so you decided to bite the bullet. "How is Satoru these days?"
"Eh?"
"You must've seen him. He isn't avoiding you like he does me."
"Your Majesty..." Shoko let out a long sigh, seemingly exasperated and sorry at the same time, and you knew you hit the mark with it. "He's well, don't worry too much about him."
"Is he taking enough breaks?"
"He— err, I'm not really sure about that."
"Then, next time you see him, along with my general condition, tell him that I want him to do so."
You didn't mean to make Shoko uncomfortable, and if you did, then it was most definitely not what you intended. You just wanted a way to communicate with your brooding husband, that was all.
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"You absolute imbecile! This is beyond ridiculous, why are you refusing to meet your own wife and talk to her?!"
If it had been anyone other than Countess Shoko, they would have certainly been hanged for their outrageous words against the emperor.
Satoru actually felt bitter for not visiting you ever since that day of the fire. Truth to be told, he was worried sick, the terror of thinking you might have perished in the blaze still lingered with him to this day.
He wanted nothing more than to hug you and bury his face in yours. He genuinely wanted you to be well and safe, always. Preferably, if he could keep you close too.
So, why did he avoid you on purpose?
First, the utter awkwardness. Second, the very fact that you had allowed those scums from Eastern Empire to be released. He still couldn't accept it, no matter how. In his eyes, you did it out of love for Naoya.
And that, in and of itself, was like a betrayal of his heart.
"She is becoming unhappy," Shoko noted earlier, frustration evident in her tone. "And on some nights, she also experiences hip pains due to carrying your baby. You're heartless if you don't even come to look at her even once!"
But then, Satoru felt as if he'd been punched in the gut. His unborn child.
...he had left you more or less alone now, hadn't he?
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In reality, you preferred the secluded comfort of your study over the royal gardens.
And yet, that beloved study Satoru gifted you on the day he married you and you became the empress of Western Empire felt constricting lately. You almost felt claustrophobic.
Maybe it was the burgundy walls, or perhaps it was the sting of bitterness in your chest that you tried to suppress so others wouldn't see. You didn't really care which though.
So, you often wandered through the gardens to enjoy the fresh air, and at times, stopping by the spot where the pagoda once stood.
Nothing. Now that was all that left. The image of a once-beautiful tower reduced to dust and the scorched earth evoked a sense of loss within you, and what made it more painful was knowing that you were the one responsible for its destruction.
But still, what hurt the most was... what had happened to the man who had trembled with fear, believing you might not have escaped the burning pagoda? Why had he spared you with nothing at all?
"Meow..."
You looked at the squirming cat in your arms, his fluffy tail tickling you. "Oh, Sugu-chan, do you want to take a walk too?"
The clear blue eyes of Satoru's pet cat looked back at you demurely before he leapt out of your arms and trotted ahead, as if leading the way.
With nothing better to occupy your time, you often played with Sugu-chan to amuse yourself these days. The cat, with its gentle disposition, frequently curled up next to you for comfort and he somehow made those days better.
"Sugu-chan, don't stray too far!" you called out, trailing closely behind him. Knowing well that you weren't well enough to chase after him should he run off, you watched to ensure he didn't disappear from sight. "Oh!"
And sigh, he did just that. Sugu-chan leapt into the bushes, prompting you to release a resigned breath before navigating through the maze-like foliage.
"Sugu-chan, where are youuu?" you drew a breath, glancing around in confusion. "If only you were calmer like your namesake..."
After navigating several corners, you turned another and spotted a fluffy white fur, and you swore to the skies that you would yank Sugu-chan by his tail if he were to wander off again, when—
"Meooow!"
"Bad, bad cat! Why did you bite me—!?"
—and there you saw your husband, crouching down as he clutched his hand, before he whipped his head to look at you—
"Satoru," you straightened your back by instinct, your heartbeat quickening.
His eyes turned blank for a second, before those blue pools regarded you with a look you couldn't really discern. "Y/N."
. . .
It was awkward silence throughout the way. You didn't even realize when you had arrived at Satoru's study.
You had wanted this unsettling atmosphere between you to end. Why couldn't both of you just be honest already? You were about to voice your thoughts when suddenly Satoru, who had his back on you, suddenly said:
"I will not have a scandal. Therefore, you will behave in a way that nothing is known against you. In return, you will retain your privileges as the empress of the Western Empire, and continue to fulfill your duties."
That? That's the first thing he said to you after those weeks sonorous silence? This stiff, faux nonsense of him pardoning you of your supposed treason?
"Is that all you have to say to me?" you blurted almost immediately, feeling your anger rising. "After everything—"
"After everything— yes." Satoru's back was still facing you, his light blue robes shifted slightly as he tucked his hands inside his pocket pants. "Despite everything, I have nothing but concern for you, Empress. And your act of treason— even if you take no offense, I still consider it a stain on my name to let a pair of criminals go free. Consider it my generosity that I decided to overlook it."
Your body felt like shaking, his strained and formal words irked you, and at the same time, pierced through your heart and tore it to pieces.
"I've told you— I can't let Megumi be condemned for a deed he hasn't committed," you stated firmly, staring hard at his back as if you could bore a hole through him. "He is a kind boy, he used to be my ward. And you know as well as I do, he isn't capable of such a thing!"
"What about that consort—the woman who overtook your place?" he suddenly turned to face you, and the expression on his face almost made you shrink. There was no emotions in his eyes, just a dark hue of blue. "She was the one staging it, wasn't she?"
"I'm not vindictive enough to sentence her to her death here, Satoru." The more you argued about this, the more you felt like you were losing him. "Naoya will deal with her as he sees fit."
The mention of your ex-husband seemed to trigger something in him that his lips curled into a sneer.
"So much trust you place in him. As I thought, I should've never expected the same for me. Granted, we're just using each other, aren't we?"
Your own words thrown back at you, it felt like your shattered heart was being stomped on and reduced to dust, because how could he?
Still, you blinked away your tears, steeling yourself with the one fact even Satoru wouldn't be able to refute. "You said it yourself—you intend to use me for your war against the Eastern Empire. How am I not supposed to see that as you using me?"
You let out a scoff when Satoru wasn't able to answer you, but then suddenly it occurred to you that there might be another reason, one you had suspected, and yet still not able to make sense of.
"I'd think jealousy is insulting to you, so why?" you questioned, suddenly feeling a sense of betrayal. "Why is it that you can't believe that I can love you the same way I did Naoya? Or possibly even more?"
To Satoru, that very thought still felt like a thorn inside his chest. How you managed to see through him almost made his facade falter—
"And if you feel that it's unfair to you how you're the one who keeps proving yourself—then tell me," you suddenly demanded with a gritted teeth. "How am I supposed to believe you've loved me when I know marrying me came at just the right time for your goals?"
"That's not true!" he suddenly raised his voice, all pretentiousness forgotten. Right in this moment, to your surprise, he no longer resembled the cold, distant emperor he seemed to be.
“From the very moment you led me by the hand twenty years ago, I’ve longed for you! And now that I finally have you— it goes beyond mere infatuation or obsession! Heavens help me, but fuck it— I love you so damn much!”
It was everything. Satoru had poured his entire heart out in one go, believing it would be enough, until he saw you trembling, visibly holding back tears.
Your pretty eyes widened as you took in his confession. Your precious lips parted slightly, wobbling in effort to hold yourself together—
—until you felt light all of a sudden, as if the boulder in your heart had came crashing down, as if you had let go of all fears, and a small chuckle escaped you.
"You said, the woman you thought to have a semblance of affection for you doesn't exist," your voice was uneven but you tried so hard to sound clear, a relieved smile forming on your lips. "But she does. I do."
“I love you, Satoru.” The first of your tears fell then, and your voice came out in a sob. “I believe I love you. I'm the happiest while being with you. And so, to hear you say that I'm just a part of your plans makes me so incredibly sad, I—”
“I just want… the honest truth from you.” You took a deep breath to steady yourself, your eyes glistening like diamonds as you fought back the tears.
He swore something inside him twisted and bled at your voice, and suddenly, nothing else mattered—
Not when you have bared everything.
Before he could think, he took two decisive strides towards you and pulled you into his arms.
"Don't cry..." he pulled you tighter into him. "I'm sorry— don't cry, sweetheart, please—"
You kept sniffling into him, and Satoru felt his heart break then, as never had he seen you so utterly dejected that you surrendered in his arms.
How was it possible that the mere realization and sight of your genuine affection and tears reduced him to a man who would give up everything for you?
“It’s true, I have been planning to wage war against Eastern Empire for years. I took measures to keep them in check, and I do think having you by my side would definitely give me an advantage. But that’s not it... when I saw how you were being wronged there, I was even more convinced it was the rightest thing to do.”
He loves you. Even if he had committed various things, be it heinous or deceptive, one truth that transcends all is that his love for you is genuine.
“You mean so much to me,” he whispered into your ear, his hand tracing along your spine. “Everything else might be true, but you— no, I have loved you first before everything.”
Oh. You looked up to him, finding his clear, steadfast gaze on you. So this is how he is like when he isn’t hiding behind that crafty smile. When he is being most truthful.
The overflowing emotions obliterated whatever doubts you had left. You felt full. A profound, pervasive sense of love radiated through your myriad thoughts.
And to him, nothing was more liberating than knowing that you returned his love with equal fervor.
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You felt bliss... utter bliss.
You didn't really know when you fell asleep, but it felt like the best rest you had in ages. For weeks, you had been waking up in the middle of the night, either in cold sweat or feeling tingling, barely-there stabs in your growing belly. On those nights, you would clutch the pillow beside you for comfort.
But tonight, you felt warm, and the first thing you noticed was Satoru's hair right in your face. He had laid his head above your chest, and his fingers were gently stroking your visible bump.
"Satoru...?" you asked sleepily, and he immediately turned to you in slight surprise.
"Did I wake you?" he looked almost alarmed. "Or do you feel any kind of pain or—?"
"No, just—" and you bit your lip when that familiar stab of pain shot through your hips. Your hand pressed against the spot as you let out a small grunt.
"Hey, what do you feel now?" Satoru immediately moved beside you, capturing you in the warmth of his embrace. "Does it hurt much? Do I need to call for—"
"No need to, it's fine—"
"It's not fine," he firmly retorted, his jaw set in a tight line. "The royal physician will come here first thing in the morning and that's final."
A faint smile formed in your lips as you curled closer and sighed contentedly into him. "Whatever you wish then, Your Majesty."
Satoru took that as a hint of sarcasm, but he simply pressed you closer and placed his warm hand over the spot where your hand rested. "Shoko told me. How long have you been enduring this?"
"Fairly recently, actually. A few weeks or so..."
I never knew. He berated himself because how would he be aware of this when he had completely shut you down? The stress must've gotten to you, and you were so delicate right now...
"Sorry," he sighed into your hair, his voice so quiet it was almost unheard. "From now on, everything that makes you uncomfortable, please tell me."
You looked up at him, searching his face, and when your innocent eyes met his, he relented.
"I'll do everything in my power to ensure you have a smooth journey in delivering our child." His words, sharp yet genuine, made your heart nearly leap out of your chest. "I hate seeing you in any sort of discomfort."
He fretted over you this much and yet he used to think you wouldn't show him the same affection in return. That was so ridiculous when you thought about it now.
"Ah," you giggled freely, wrapping your arms tight around him, and Satoru was taken aback at how that simple affirmation from you made something inside him feel lighter.
His endearing queen, who loved him back, now right in his arms. As he massaged your waist, he thought back to many years of careful planning and schemes, just for one particular goal...
“Not anymore,” he told you quietly, and you sleepily blinked your eye open. “I love you too much to break your heart.”
“Hmm?”
You were puzzled, and could feel his hot breath at such a close distance. And then those blue crystal of eyes met yours, full of warmth, and the corners of his lips curved into a soft smile, one that caught you by the heart.
“I’m made of many things. The emperor of this land, a soldier of many ambitions... but in the end, just a man.” His voice was languid and yet so gentle that it almost lulled you to sleep again. “If it were up to me, I’d have no qualms with warring the Eastern Empire. But now... I no longer wish to do that.”
Anticipation surged within you at his words, but still...
Noticing your reluctance, Satoru pinched your cheek and smiled. "It's not what you want. I thought I could proceed with it even if it'd leave you heartbroken... but apparently I can't."
And with his next proclamation, you knew without a doubt that this time, they were truer than anything else.
“And do you know? Because I love you, I’m willing to do anything for you. Mark my words, my queen— From now on... Heaven and earth, I would give it all to you.”
"Mm..." Whether it was your hormones or the sheer sincerity that shone through his words, tears were brimming in your eyes as Satoru gave you his oath. "Thank you... for thinking of me."
"Anything for you, sweetheart." He dipped his head to press a kiss on your lips and you were about to snuggle closer to him when you felt that familiar flutter and suddenly let out a gasp—
"Satoru!" you exclaimed, almost startling him, but you immediately reached out and placed his hand on your belly. "Feel it!"
And then, his eyes widened slightly. It was the most wondrous moment he had ever experienced in his life as he felt the baby inside you kick and ripple beneath his palm.
"Ah..." he exhaled the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Baby... she moves..."
The very idea of a precious baby girl that was an exact replica of you suddenly made his heart lurch. Satoru swore in that moment to protect her with his life... he didn't know it was possible, but he was already in love with her even when she wasn't born yet.
"Why are you so sure it's a girl?" you teased, wrapping your arms around his neck and smooched his jaw when he was rendered speechless. "I want a boy, you know."
Satoru snapped out of his trance and sullenly huffed. "I still hope it's a girl. I want a princess I can spoil rotten."
"I want a baby boy who looks like you." Your sincere wish surprised him, and he turned to you in bewilderment. "That way, even when you're away, I won't miss you as much since I still have the little prince near me."
"Ha." Satoru feigned a snort to cover the faint blush steadily gathering in his cheeks. Good heavens, how cute was it that he wanted a girl who resembled you and you wanted a boy just so he'd look like him? He was so giddy that he failed to come up with a witty comeback for you.
Pure bliss. After everything, this is your life from now on.
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Shoko stood in front of your chambers the next morning, her heels clacking like a ticking watch of doom.
Unlike the everlasting frown etched on her face, she was actually in a dilemma, debating her choices outside your chambers. It was late morning already, but she'd hate to go in if you were not alone.
If she went ahead and caught you with Gojo on your bed—and worse, naked—with her own eyes... no, it was unthinkable what the sight would do to her. She would never recover. She would spew unforgivable profanities and Gojo might have her banished for real.
"What are you doing?"
Shoko whirled around so fast to suppress her shriek, and shot a look of distaste as soon as she saw who was behind her—Duke Geto. "Don't sneak up on me like that! You're not small like Sugu-chan!"
Suguru, prim and neat with his tied bun and black robes, raised one eyebrow, clearly swallowing any comments regarding the cat. "What are you doing, loitering in the hallway?"
"The empress hasn't woken up yet, and it's nearly midday. She has engagements with the master of tea parties later."
"Don't bother. Satoru's there. He'll most likely tell you that her schedule can be rearranged, and his word is law."
Shoko barked a laugh and Suguru too broke into a smile.
"So, they're good now?"
"Yeah... seems so."
"Thank fuck. Gojo owes me one for this."
The two friends chuckled again, relieved to know that the cold war between both of you had ceased.
Suguru leaned against the wall, his eyes crinkled at a memory. "Don't you remember those days, when Satoru used to watch the empress at each and every ball we attended, back when she was still the crown princess?"
Shoko crossed her arms, letting out a loud snort. "Oh yes. Everyone talked about him. The prince smitten by a rival country's betrothed... his reputation took a hit, but he never cared."
"I never took him seriously until recently. He was so adamant in his plans for the East that I thought... maybe it was all just to realize his war plans."
"Geto... don't tell me," the countess eyed her longtime friend incredulously. "Have not seen enough of the empress' paintings hanging in the halls? Is that not convincing enough for you?"
Throughout almost one year of your marriage, Satoru had commissioned at least five paintings of you to hang in the palace halls. Servants, members of parliament, and peerage must have seen at least one of your pictures whenever they turned a corner.
"If that's not stupidly in love, I didn't know what that is." Shoko shook her head with a smile. "Gojo has been spellbound for like years. I just never thought he'd really have her in the end though."
Suguru and Shoko had been by Satoru’s side for many years. Suguru was the closest to him still, and he had seen his friend for everything he was.
And knowing that Satoru was genuine in choosing this path, all Suguru could do was be happy for him.
“Life always has its ways… heh, I suppose all’s well that ends well.”
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SOME MONTHS LATER . . .
"There, there, Sugu-chan!"
Suguru flinched. Satoru snickered.
"Meow!"
And you continued to tickle the white cat happily, seated a few feet away from both of them with a broad grin on your face.
"Should... Her Majesty be so close to the cat?" Suguru eventually asked, casting a skeptical gaze on you. The presence of the feline was certainly not what he expected when he entered Satoru's study per his summons. "It's dirty often and may affect her health."
"No, no... I never let him walk outside anymore and he has to be cleaned all times before the empress plays with him." Satoru's sly smile was a clear sign of taunt. "Suguru~ Won't you play with him too?"
Suguru shot him a withering look, his eyes twitching again the moment you addressed the cat by his childhood nickname.
"Oh, Sugu-chan, you're so gentle..." you exclaimed with a giggle. Your fingers gently scratched the cat's chin and behind his ears, causing him to purr happily and roll onto his back.
"Meooow~"
"Anyway, why did you call me here?" Suguru let out a sigh, disregarding the background noises and leveled a questioning look at his friend and ruler of the country.
"Hmm, nothing of importance actually, my cat just misses you is all," Satoru shrugged nonchalantly and Suguru really was about to pop a vein at his blatant response.
He then threw a sharp glance towards the pet and Sugu-chan immediately let out a dissatisfied hiss. This was always the way since the first day Satoru adopted him.
"Your cat, evidently, dislikes me at first sight."
"That's because he senses your animosity!"
Seeing how uncomfortable the duke looked, you suppressed a laugh and scooped up the feline into your arms. "Forgive me, Duke Geto. It's my idea to bring you here since I'm curious how you'd react if you and Sugu-chan are in the same room..."
...well, if it was your wish, who was he to deny it? Satoru would come for his head first should he do so.
You winked. "I'll bring him out for a walk, feel free to talk to your heart's content."
"Don't overexert yourself," Satoru warned, his playful expression towards him shifting to a concerned look for you, surprising Suguru in the process. "If walking is too much, take a rest."
"Yes, yes... I'll be fine~"
Satoru never took his eyes off you until you left his study, and Suguru couldn't help but smile.
"The way you always soften around her will never fail to surprise me," he noted with a hint of amusement.
"Then get surprised all your life because that's all I will do," he retorted with a proud smirk. "Oh right... how is the progress for the new courtyard?"
To replace the pagoda lost in your incident, Satoru came up with another gift for you—a private courtyard for your own personal pleasure. It still remained a secret from you, with Suguru tasked to oversee its construction.
"It's expected to be done before the empress' birthday, don't worry."
"Good..." His lips curved with satisfaction, before a blush tinted his cheeks. "And by then, the baby must've already..."
You were far along now, evident from how your dresses were no longer able to hide the curve of your swollen belly. He was to become a father soon, and anyone could see how elated Satoru was.
And suddenly he fixed his sharp gaze on his friend. "And Suguru, what about the other thing I asked? Have you looked into it?"
"Yeah...?"
"Zen'in Naoya's wench—" Satoru's eyes glinted with something akin to malice, as he still had that smile. "What did you find about her?"
Royal Consort Hanabi. A while ago, he also asked him to investigate her background, and Suguru almost forgot about it if he hadn't asked.
"Prior working as a palace servant, she was a former maid for Duke Kamo. As with all servants there, she was not treated kindly."
"Kamo? Interesting..."
The Kamo clan used to sit at Eastern Empire's throne up until Naoya's ancestors usurped it. Now, the heir remained a wealthy duke, and it was well-known that the fates of anyone who crossed him didn't end well.
Satoru hummed, barking a snort. "Well, I suppose that's it then. Suguru, proceed as is."
"I really thought you were done with any of your revenge plans." Suguru really didn't want to bring it up but he wasn't sure if this would bode well.
"I've given up on spilling blood, because that's not what my queen wants..." Satoru's smile froze on his face, yet his eyes sparkled. "But that doesn't mean I'll let that lowly bitch go unscathed. Our empress might be a saint and have chosen to spare her, but I most certainly am not as forgiving."
The chilly white light of the chandelier above him cast an eerie glow on Emperor Gojo Satoru at that moment, and Suguru almost shuddered.
"Didn't I tell you before? Anyone who dares to lay their hands on my empress... they have to pay the price."
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Meanwhile in the Eastern Empire's palace, the royal consort still was the object of everyone's praises as of late.
It was almost astonishing how well she was treated recently, all because she was carrying the emperor's child, Hanabi thought with irony. So this was her life now.
Valued when she is able please the emperor, discarded when she fails to do so.
Sometimes it made her wonder, if it were still you in her place, would you be treated the same way? Or would you always be revered just like you were, unconditionally?
No matter. Her thoughts always leaned towards comparing herself with you, despite how much she hated it. Yet it was no use thinking of it now.
After all, now Naoya was in her arms.
She couldn't help but marvel at the sight of his sharp eyebrows and jaw. Hanabi had always thought, he was most handsome when he was vast asleep, when he wasn't hurling profanities at her or anyone else.
At first, she just wanted his love, and then a happy ending. She was never audacious enough to covet the empress' seat. But now she had to, after what you said to her.
"...that will be your downfall."
How could you? How dare you? Hanabi had gone through so much, who are you to dictate how her fates will turn out?
She now carried a son. She had even gone to an oracle to make sure of it. Soon, she would be the empress of this empire, and you would be forced to regard her as an equal.
And she was very much looking forward to that day…
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Safe to say... you have long since thrown away any thoughts regarding the one woman who isn't worth a second of your time in your blissful days...
“Satoru, hng— ahh!” a lustful, provocative moan escaped your lips as you bucked your hips against his lips—face—and all the while, you weren’t even properly dressed.
But your emperor of a husband insisted on dipping his head inside your thin bathrobe and devouring you right on the staircase leading to the bathing chamber.
“Ah—aah—hah!” you threw your head back, spreading your legs impossibly wider around his shoulder, as you felt his lips licking your drenched nub.
You wanted so badly to see him, but weren’t able to do so as not only your belly had become such a dome that hindered you from seeing your lower half, Satoru hiding under your robes meant you wouldn’t be able to see him at all.
And so, all you could do was feel, feel and feel.
Feel how sticky wet your womanhood was, feel how his hair was tickling your thighs, and feel how as he eagerly sucked and nipped at you, it almost made you see stars—
“Satoru, the servants… mmrngh! Can walk in!” you tried to reason and yet failing at the same time as a shuddering pleasure washed over you like a rising tide.
“So be it,” came Satoru’s daring reply from underneath. “Let them see… and I’ll tell them— this is how their empress comes to be s-so swollen… with the fruit of my labors!”
You moaned again unabashedly, not even bothering to hold it back as the noises you made echoed throughout the hall, your fingers curling and clawing at the marbled tiles.
And soon, you couldn’t hold it in anymore as you came around his tongue.
“Ah…” you writhed breathlessly, feeling how your cum helplessly gushing out, limp against the stairs. Your body jerked, and cramped as you felt him taking in everything that came out of you.
When he was done, Satoru gently removed your light robe and embraced you, taking in every detail. He admired the cascade of your hair over your shoulder, the softness of your skin—seemingly even softer in recent months—and how your body gracefully accommodated the baby.
So heavy with his child… and yet it only roused his desires.
“Look at you, do I tire you out?” he chuckled, licking the remnants of your juice off his lips. You shot him an unamused look and poked his chest in response.
“Here, let me clean you up...”
After cleaning you, he gathered you and brought you to the bath tub, submerging both of you in the warm water.
Satoru pulled you close from behind, wrapping his arms around your upper body, gently kissing your neck.
“You’re so affectionate,” you giggled as you caressed his cheek. “I had half a mind that you’d be repulsed with how big I’ve become, and yet you never stray far from my bed.”
“Nonsense. Your chamber is the temple and I worship any ground you walk on.”
“You’re not worshipping me?”
“I do more than just worship you, my goddess.” Satoru drawled out with a lazy smile, burning a wet kiss on your face. “You know that.”
At this moment, you felt warm and fulfilled, resigning yourself to your husband's arms with a contented sigh... until you let out a low hiss when you felt the familiar pounding from inside your belly.
"Shh," Satoru warm hand pressed on the protruding spot in your bump, soothing you. "There, there... don't hurt your mama, hmm?"
Soon, you'd have your baby in your arms, and your heart melted at the very thought. That little baby would soon be running the palace halls, bringing joy to this empire.
"You know I'd protect you from anything and everything," your husband said to you in a whisper, lovingly breathing in your scent. "So my only wish for you is to deliver the baby safely. Afterwards, leave the rest to me, hmm?"
I don't want to lose you. That was clearly the fear behind his words. Satoru's grip on you tightened and you kissed his arm, reassuring him.
After everything you went through, this would be your happy ending, and you would do whatever it takes to win it.
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And then the day comes —
Your labor pains started at the crack of dawn, and you were immediately brought to the birthing chambers afterwards.
Even within the confines of your chambers, your cries echoed through the halls. Shoko and several of your maids stayed with you inside, while the Archbishop guarded the entrance.
"It's almost a day and a half," Satoru muttered restlessly, unable to go on with his day as he paced outside. He had been with you when you woke up to your waters breaking, and he hadn't been able to think straight since.
A maid rushed outside with bloodied towels and he immediately stopped her. "How is the empress? Is she alright?"
The petrified maid bowed her head. "Her Majesty is losing blood, Your Majesty!"
He lost all reasons that very moment. "I have to come inside—!"
"You can't be in there, Your Majesty!" Archbishop Yaga sternly forbid, standing in his way. "It's women's business inside—you should be ready when they announced the birth of the child!"
Satoru's eyes twitched with fury and he was really about to drive past him when this time, it was Shoko who came out, looking alarmed. "Gojo! She's asking for you!"
"He cannot!"
"Suguru..." Satoru turned to his friend with a look and immediately, the duke went to the man’s side.
The emperor then regarded him with an unsettling smile. "Do you like being the Archbishop?"
"Huh?"
"Would you want to keep your position as the Archbishop?"
"Your Majesty!"
"Do you believe you can keep your position as the Archbishop... by defying me?"
Yaga fell silent, as if he had just swallowed a sour lemon, and Satoru seized the opportunity to push him aside. "Then move."
Even after Satoru had rushed inside, Suguru remained near the archbishop and Yaga looked at him incredulously. "He went inside already, why are you still here?"
"His Majesty's orders. Have to keep an eye for you for evaluation since he has another candidate in mind should he deem you unfit in your role..."
"Who is the other candidate!?"
"Ah, he told me his name was... Priest Akutami?"
. . .
Pain blinded your senses that you fell back to the sheets after strenuously pushing, and the next thing you knew, Satoru's face was in your sight.
"Sweetheart, hey..." he took hold of your hand and planted a firm kiss on it. His cerulean eyes gleamed brightly as he gazed at you. "I'm here now."
"Satoru—" your voice came out as a whisper, before another contraction seized you and you moaned. Your eyes rolled back involuntarily as the intense pain surged through you once more. You could feel how close you were, yet it was so painful you could barely breathe.
"Take deep breath, here—" he helped you to sit straighter and gave you his arm to hold.
"Your Majesty, I can see the head already!" the midwife exclaimed in joy, and Satoru turned to you with a smile.
“A little bit more,” he encouraged you, pressing a kiss on your temple. “Just a bit more, my sweet, you can do it, hmm? Here, hold onto me.”
And with his voice as your lifeline, you groaned and pushed once more, putting a part of your soul into it before you blacked out and collapsed in his arms.
At first, everything was silent, but then a sound reached your ears— a cry. Your baby's first cry.
"I-it's a princess!" the midwife announced, and the room erupted into gasps of wonder.
You looked at Satoru through bleary eyes, and for the first time, you saw him utterly speechless.
He was struck by the sight of that tiny being being gently cleaned by Shoko before his gaze returned to you.
You were sweaty, panting, limp, appearing haggard with tears in your eyes and streaking your face, and yet...
You are still the most beautiful thing he has ever laid his eyes on.
"A girl... just... like you wanted..." you managed to say with a hoarse voice and wobbly smile, and seeing you, without a moment's hesitation, Satoru went in and locked you in a deep kiss.
"Thank you—" even he himself was near tears when he pulled away and pressed his forehead against yours. There were so many things he wanted to tell you, countless celebrations he envisioned, all in praise of you and the heavens above for granting him such unparalleled happiness—
"...!" But suddenly, you curled into him, suppressing a scream and failing that it turned into a devastating wail, and you dug your nails into the flesh of his arm. "Ahhh!"
"What happened?" Satoru looked at you in alarm, then to the midwife who hurried to tend to you once more. "What happened to the Empress?!"
The midwife probed your belly, her expression lighting up with understanding. "O-oh my... there is another baby, Your Majesty!"
He didn't have time to dwell on the revelation when you cried out again. Setting aside all surprise, he aided you once more, and after more minutes of intense effort—
"A prince! The Empress has given birth to a prince!"
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Twins. The whole Western Empire rejoiced at the news that their new empress had delivered a prince and princess for the nation.
Amidst the flurry of upcoming festivities and celebrations, you spent most of your days resting, as the birth had taken a lot out of you. Satoru took charge of the planning again, despite his busy schedule, and of course, he never failed to visit you and the babies regularly.
And whenever he did, his breath was always taken away.
Two precious babies lay still in the bassinet, peacefully asleep. Satoru gently poked each of them on the cheek.
The princess... as if the heavens had answered his prayers, she resembled you so closely that he fell in love all over again. She was so precious and small, and he imagined she would grow into a beauty just like you.
Satoru had sworn it before and did so again—he would protect her at all costs.
And the prince... he was so much like Satoru that it made his heart skip a beat. With his hair and eyes, his one concern was whether he had inherited his curse too. But regardless, he was determined to help and guide him should that day ever come.
When the boy cooed in his sleep, Satoru knew he too owned a part of his heart. He would definitely raise him well, teach him how to protect you and his sister, and one day, to succeed him as well.
As of you... you were asleep much like your children, and Satoru failed to hold back a smile. He gently combed your hair and just like that, you were roused from your sleep.
"Satoru, hello," you croaked and leaned into his touch.
His eyes fondly crinkled as he looked at you. "How are you feeling?"
"Good. It's been weeks. I've been feeling better for a while actually." You threw him a meaningful smile. "I might've cheated my way out of royal duties to rest..."
"Heh. Then keep cheating until the allotted time then. I'll permit it."
You raised an eyebrow. "When will my time be up?"
"The ceremony to present our babies..." Satoru played with your fingers. "We're expected to hold them and show them to the masses. You have to be there so they won't forget who the empress is."
"Right..." but you suddenly deflated and your husband tilted his head. "After that... we can't keep them out of the prying eyes anymore, everyone would delve into their affairs too."
Satoru's eyes fixed on you, sincere and true. "We can't avoid it, but if you wish for them to be out of the limelight for a little more time, I can arrange it. Your wishes come first."
The thought that your precious babies would be faced with many court intrigues made you want to keep them inside the protection of your womb a little longer. Yet, just as you and Satoru had experienced yourselves, sitting at the highest seat of monarchy required unbending will. Both of you would have to teach that strength to your children.
As if knowing what you were thinking, Satoru gathered both of your hands and squeezed it with a smile.
“Still, we are going to be there for them, are we not? Don’t worry. I’m here, and there’s no way I’m letting our son face any sort of curse alone.” He caressed your knuckles. “And you will be here for our daughter, teaching her how to become a magnificent lady just like you. As long as we’re here... they’ll be okay, hmm?”
Right at that moment, as you stared back at his deep, sparkling eyes, you could've sworn that you had fallen in love with Gojo Satoru once again.
You used to think that to love is to be accepted wholly, but after everything you had experienced, you realized that it also came with a load of worries, and you used to fear them, until...
A smile so pretty bloomed in your face as you squeezed his hand back.
“I love you,” you held his gaze unwaveringly, your eyes shining like glitters. “So long as we’re together, there’s nothing we can’t do, yeah?”
He seemed taken aback at first, before breaking into a smile so dashing it was almost blinding.
“Chasing after you and making you my empress is possibly the greatest deed I’ve achieved my entire life,” Satoru declared with a grin, and you knew your heart was truly his in every sense then.
“So, right. From now on and forevermore— You and me. Always.”
. . .
The presentation of the new crown prince and princess of Western Empire was an unforgettable affair. The grandeur of the celebration rivaled even the festivities of your wedding itself.
Given that it was both a ceremony for the babies and also nearing your birthday, Satoru decided to host a grand ball to mark the occasion. This lavish event ensured no one would dispute your position, regardless of how you came to hold it, and it was also befitting the bestowal of official titles upon your children.
Your son and daughter squirmed in their crib as they were brought forward, and once again, as you stood before the assembled court, you felt a twinge of reluctance to finally present them to everyone.
But Satoru's eyes held you with so much certainty that you found reassurance in his gaze.
And by the moment he cradled your son and you held your daughter, and he declared to the court—
"Here I present to you, the Crown Prince and Crown Princess of Western Empire!"
You feel wholly sure. With Satoru by your side, you let go of all your fears. Time and time again, he had proved the extend of his love for you, and as you ushered a new era with him, you believed all was going to be well.
Just like your coronation not long ago, the crowd cheered in joy.
Gazing upon the sea of people roaring and cheering below… a familiar warmth surged within you.
Once again, it was a sight beyond belief for you, as they chanted praises and acclamations—
“LONG LIVE THE CROWN PRINCE!”
“ALL HAIL THE EMPEROR!”
“LONG LIVE THE EMPIRE!”
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SOME WEEKS LATER . . .
"We've received a very strange invitation..."
You looked up from your baby boy and curiously peeked at one of Satoru's aides who was on duty today, Todo Aoi. He had come bearing news.
You had always thought he was quite eccentric, but today, he looked uncharacteristically serious.
"Strange, how?" Suguru questioned.
"From?" Satoru added with a totally uninterested expression.
"Eastern Empire," the man coughed awkwardly, as if thinking hard. "Apparently, a prince has been born and the royal consort is to be crowned as the new empress..."
"Who!?" Shoko, who was holding your baby girl, whirled around in surprise.
"Royal Consort Hanabi, I believe her name is. She is to be the Empress of Eastern Empire."
It was such a deafening silence all of a sudden that you could hear a pin drop. Suguru and Shoko gaped. You were stunned.
Only Satoru who didn't seem to show any reaction to the news.
Suguru cleared his throat, feeling the need to double-take. "Empress of... where?"
"That conniving hag..." Shoko muttered under her breath, before her gaze accidentally landed on you.
You were surprised, but strangely, you didn't feel anything. Long ago, you would've been heartbroken by this turn of events, but now, it just eluded you how she could maintain her position as long as she could. Well, when one is favored by luck, anything is possible though...
Satoru suddenly clapped his hands, letting out a mocking laugh.
"Is it really that surprising?" he asked with so much sarcasm, catching all four of you off guard. "When the emperor can barely fulfill his duties, even a scullery maid could rise to become the mother of the nation. The real question is..."
It was as if a sudden chill descended upon the room when he next spoke:
"How long... will she last?"
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The question is answered soon enough.
Empress Hanabi's reign in the Eastern Empire lasted for only seven days. It was known as the greatest scandal ever gracing the history.
She had given birth to a son, who was appointed as the crown prince on the same day as her coronation. Emperor Zen'in Naoya personally led the ceremony. At first glance, it really seemed well...
Until seven days later, he suddenly erupted in fury.
The palace walls have ears, and behind closed doors, servants whispered about the incident. It began with Naoya launching into a tirade, claiming that the princess born to Hanabi previously, as well as the newborn prince, were not his by blood.
It was of the highest form of treachery to deceive the crown, and so a death sentence was about to be imposed on Hanabi for this… until the emperor suddenly fell ill due to a stroke, rendering him unfit to rule. Prince Megumi ascended the throne as the new emperor.
Despite his stern demeanor, the young emperor showed abundant kindness. He considered the plight of Hanabi's children, realizing they would be in peril without their mother, so he chose to banish her instead.
. . .
How did it end up like this?
Hanabi didn't know how many days and nights she had cried, cursing fate and her life, as she was being sent away from the palace.
Everything was in her grasp. Her very grasp! Until... until—!
She sobbed her heart out once again, mourning her short-lived life, before it was cruelly robbed from her.
Her children... they were all of Naoya's blood. Despite doubts surrounding them, she was faithful to him and to the crown. All of this... was all a whole scheme to trap her!
...was it you? Could you have orchestrated this? Could you truly be so wicked as to ruin her life entirely?
"You've always coveted what I have, and sooner or later, that will be your downfall."
Was this the price of defying her social status, just like your omen, after all...?
"That can't be!" she screamed inside the wagon set to bring her to the unknown, her voice drowned by the sound of the rainstorm happening outside. "Empress Y/N... you're a horrible human being!"
With every fiber of her being, she hated you so much for ever crossing your path with hers.
Even until the end, she never realized that it was all her own doing.
After hours of journey on the road, she was brought inside a mansion she failed to recognize due to the storm at the first glance. She had given up on resisting because it was futile.
But upon realizing who awaited her in the room, she trembled in fear and backed against the wall.
Hanabi wished she could lose her sanity amidst the whirlwind madness happening to her, because really, it might be better than all of this.
His impressive height gazed down at her from above. It was impossible to hide from his piercing stare.
Duke Kamo Choso, with his crooked sneer, greeted her.
"Well, hello, Hanabi... it has been a while, huh? Did you miss me?"
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- END -
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🏷️ taglist
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thinkinonsense · 2 months ago
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POSITIONS𑁍
old man!logan howlett x housewife!reader
cw: oral (f receiving), fingering, bit of fluff, soft logan *mdni
wc: 900+
a/n: next mini-series will be inspired by the album positions by ariana grande. if you would like to be added to the tag list comment below. not sure how many parts yet but I hope you enjoy!
part two
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home has always been a sore spot for logan. the mutant never had much of a place he could truly call home. always on the run, never somewhere long enough to enjoy it. now in his old age, he's been granted the life he always longed for.
"lo, come try this!" his little wife, calls to him in the kitchen.
the sight of you and your cute apron mixing ingredients could bring logan to his knees; and has on many occasions. how did a dangerous fucked up man like him end up with the sweetest girl in town? every day, you're in the kitchen learning new recipes while looking all dolled up for him.
the part that always gets logan hard is knowing you want to do this for him. you were smarter than anyone he'd ever met yet, you loved the simple domesticity of your life with logan. you knew when the two of you met that he craved an older lifestyle that you didn't mind adjusting to. logan thought that you were truly heaven-sent.
"think i finally got the recipe right." you held out a spoon for him. logan groaned at the taste, his hands resting on your hips, pressing you into the countertop slightly. "whatcha think?"
"think it might be the best frosting you've ever made," he mutters against your skin, leaving kisses along your neck and jaw.
"that good?" you smile, licking the rest of the spoon clean.
logan watched with dark pupils, grinding himself against your ass with every little moan that slipped past your lips.
"might just be the second best thing you've let me taste," he admits, forehead falling into your neck to catch his breath.
"second?" you tease, turning around to face him. "what's the first, baby?"
you claimed you weren't a mutant but logan thought that was the only explanation for how quickly you managed to bring him to his knees. his big rough palms caress your thighs, squeezing whatever he can—whatever he wants— until he slips them under your pretty light green dress.
logan stares at eye level with your white lacy panties and the large wet stain forming in them. he's got you sprawled out on the countertop with both legs dangling off his broad shoulders, heels digging slightly into his shoulder blades. your dress and apron were bunched up at your stomach.
"isn't she pretty..." logan says to himself, hooking them to the side to get a better look at your exposed pussy. he blows cold air directly on you. a loud whine falls from your lips as you claw at the edges of the counter and attempt to wiggle your hips in the air.
"lo, please..." you beg, looking down at him as he slides the thin material down your legs and spreads you as far as he can.
"you've been such a good girl, sweetheart." logan praises, letting his thumb circle your button slowly in a way that leaves you needing more. "so obedient and versatile, aren't ya'? one minute you're cooking me dinner and the next you're begging to ride me."
you nod, lazily; trying to enjoy every movement he makes.
"think you deserve a reward." he hums before lapping up your wetness, swirling his tongue in downright sinful ways.
not only did you taste as sweet but the little noises that escaped you were even sweeter. a hand of yours laced itself in logan's grey hair, tugging him impossibly closer until his nose bumped your clit, making you sing like a bird. didn't help that logan let his most primal side show, moaning into you and making a complete mess of you.
"so needy, isn't that right, honey? just leakin' for attention." he says, talking to your pussy rather than to you directly while teasing a finger at your entrance. "makin' a mess all over me."
logan pulls back to spit on your pussy; sending your head flying back against the countertop.
"fuck..." you moan, left hand groping your own tit. "feels sooo good, lo.."
logan catches the light off of your wedding band while you squeeze yourself. this kickstarted something deep inside of him. even in the filthiest of moments between the two of you, you managed to fill his heart with love. his mouth returns, drinking you up like water. you flooded all of logan's senses; he could hear your heart thumping in your chest, smell how badly you needed him, and taste how he made you feel.
"taste like fuckin' candy," he growls, adding another finger to hit that spongy spot deep inside of you over and over again.
"please..." you purr, looking down into his almost black eyes. "so close.."
logan could feel you clenching around his fingers; practically suffocating them. his moans vibrating your core didn't help slow down your climax either. all of it crashing into you at once.
"there's my pretty girl," he smirks, still fingering you through your orgasm. at this point, you didn't care what part of you he was talking to anymore; all you wanted to do was kiss him.
"need you, logan." you whine, tugging at the collar of his shirt until he's face to face with you.
logan assumes that you want him to fuck you; undoing his belt as quickly as possible until you stop him.
"gimme kiss."
there you were with your dirty apron, wild hair, and pouty lips begging for a kiss. who was logan to deny you such a request? his soaked beard scratched against you with passion as his tongue entered your mouth. his big hands cradle your face delicately.
logan wasn't a good man by the textbook definition but he'll be damned if he didn't treat you as good as you deserved.
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suguwu · 1 month ago
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WOULD THAT I: PROLOGUE
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The Gojo boy doesn't have a soulmate.
When you're both children, you overhear him being referred to as inhuman, between his power and his lack of a mark. The next time you see him, you use a marker to write your name on his skin, too young to understand what it means.
You forget, but Gojo—
Gojo never does.
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MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT.
masterlist
pairing: gn!reader x gojo
wc: 2.6k
notes: thank you to my beta, as always! especially for putting up with my bratty ass and reading this early so i could post it earlier. this has been a fun fic to get started and i hope you enjoy the prologue!
content warnings: none. see masterlist for series content warnings.
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The Gojo boy doesn’t have a soulmate.
You don’t think you’re supposed to know; it’s only ever talked about in hushed voices. The clans all speak like that, sometimes, each word a butterfly’s wing as it flutters from their mouths.
The servants, however, are louder.
One of them has a voice like a lark, a sweet, trilling song. It carries. You learn to hear her coming, to recognize her shadow against the shoji. You know the edges of her by heart. Sometimes she spreads her arms out as she makes her way through the hallway; her kimono sleeves flare out behind her like wings. 
“There’s something wrong with the Gojo heir,” she sings one afternoon, her fluting voice half-muffled by the shoji. “Those eyes of his—it’s like he can see right through you. And Fujioka says he doesn’t have a soulmark.” 
Another servant hushes her. “Don’t gossip,” she chides. 
“It’s true, though!”
“That doesn’t mean you should repeat it.” 
She huffs, grumbling something too soft for you to hear anything aside from the melody of it. The other servant laughs quietly before chivvying her forward. You watch until their shadows disappear, leaving only the hallway light to filter golden through the shoji. 
You return to your coloring book.
The Gojo boy doesn’t have a soulmate, but that doesn’t mean anything to you.
Not yet. 
There’s a boy in the courtyard.
He’s hopping from stone to stone in the koi pond, his snow-white hair glittering under the morning sun. He moves like a dancer, each step sure and swift, never once slipping on the wet rock. When he gets to the biggest rock in the pond, he crouches down, his back to you, and drags his fingers over the surface of the water. The koi rise to meet him, firework scales flashing in the sun. 
You watch him from the engawa, peeking out at him from behind one of the columns. You’ve never seen him before, and you’d remember him, with his starlight hair. 
“Who’re you?” he asks, not turning around.
You stay quiet.
“I know you’re there,” he says. “You can’t hide from me.”
He glances over his shoulder and the world goes blue.
It’s the cold burn of a comet’s tail streaking through the velvet night. It’s oceantide, relentless and unyielding. It’s a slice of the sky brought down to earth, heaven devoured.
Then he blinks, and he’s just a boy again. 
“Who’re you?” you ask, stepping to the edge of the engawa. 
He lifts his chin. “I asked you first.”
You introduce yourself the way your mother taught you, bowing to him shallowly. 
He scoffs. “You’re not even from the main clan.”
“Are you?”
“I’m not part of your stupid clan.”
“Oh.”
He stares at you, his crystalline eyes sharp-edged, all prismatic ice. “You don’t know who I am?”
“Nope.”
He rises to his full height, unfolding like an elegant crane. “I’m Gojo Satoru.” 
You tilt your head. The servants’ humming gossip made the Gojo heir sound ethereal, a fallen star that had burned away into human form as it plummeted through the heavens. His eyes are otherworldly, and you can feel the power rippling out from his lean form, as unstoppable as the tides, but—
“You’re just a boy,” you say. 
He scowls. “Am not.”
“Are too.” 
“I’m Gojo Satoru,” he says again, deeper this time, an intonation, a promise, a curse. His eyes flash, St. Elmo’s fire, a lightning strike of blue. “I have the Limitless and the Six Eyes. I’m not just a boy.”
You would believe him, but the last bit sounded more sulky than anything else. You’re about to tell him so when someone calls your name. You glance over your shoulder, but there are no shadows against the shoji yet.
When you turn back around, there are wet patches shining on the stones in the koi pond, an imprint of the past, but nothing else.
The Gojo boy is gone.
Your mother is hovering. 
She smooths down your yukata, chasing creases from the thin cotton with trembling hands. There hadn’t been time to change; she’d pulled you out of your lessons and hurried you down the hallways of the estate. 
“Bow low when you meet him,” she tells you, though she hasn’t bothered to tell you who ‘he’ is. “Understand?”
You nod. 
There’s a fine layer of sweat gleaming at your mother’s nape as she kneels before the shoji. She reaches out to open it; her kimono sleeve slips down, revealing the elegant curve of her wrist. You focus there instead of the opening shoji, the slow slide of it a hissing snake, coiled to bite.
The shoji clicks, a chime of teeth, its maw wide open. You take in a deep breath and step through, your gaze on the tatami mats. Someone shifts.
“Oh, it’s you.”
You glance up, directly into the gaze of Gojo Satoru. His eyes are as otherworldly as you remember, a crisp, clear blue framed in long lashes, like a snowy-edged mountain lake. He tilts his head as you gape, his hair gleaming bone-white in the sun streaming through the open shoji. 
You blink. “What’re you doing here?” you ask, and next to you, your mother hisses in a low, sharp breath. 
Gojo shrugs. “Dunno. The clan said I had to come and they caught me when I snuck out.”
The woman behind Gojo clears her throat. “Gojo-sama,” she says, her voice like the shivering leaves when the summer breeze stirs to life, “they’re a candidate for you to train with.” 
He eyes you. “Why?” he asks. “They’re not very strong.”
“Hey!” 
“You aren’t, though,” he says. “I can tell.”
You throw yourself at him.
His eyes widen, a devouring sea, and he grunts as you make impact. He’s sturdier than you thought; he’s slight, but it’s all lean muscle, even though he can’t be much older than you are. Your mother calls out your name, horrified, but Gojo is already recovering, grappling with you for control. 
By the time the adults pull you apart, Gojo is nursing a rapidly-purpling mark high on his cheekbone. Your split lip aches; you tongue at it and wince. You can taste blood, sour and metallic. You glare at Gojo even as your mother bows deeply to the woman.
“My deepest apologies,” she says, tightening her grip on the sleeve of your yukata and forcing you to bow with her. “I don’t know what came over them.”
The woman clicks her tongue. “The child should be punished,” she says, and your mother stiffens. “I would suggest—”
“No.” 
Everyone looks at Gojo. He thumbs at a rip in his kimono, grinning widely. It bares his teeth. 
“I’ll train with them,” he says.
“Gojo-sama—”
“I said I’d train with them. Now can we go? I want a popsicle.” 
The woman sighs. “Yes, Gojo-sama.” 
Gojo sweeps by you and your mother. He pauses right next to you. “You’re weak,” he tells you, ignoring the way you bristle, “but at least you’re fun.”  
He’s out the shoji before you can respond.
Summer settles over Kyoto, a wet lick of heat. Even the wind seems to feel it; it ripples honey-slow through the trees, barely strong enough to stir the air. Frogs move into the koi pond in the courtyard; they sing along with the cicadas’ sawing choir. 
“Catch it!” Gojo shouts as your hands spear through the murky pond water. It gushes free from between your fingers as you come up empty-handed, the frog you were aiming for frantically disappearing further below the surface. “You’re so slow.”
“Am not!”
“Are too,” he counters, holding out his cupped hands. A plaintive ribbit sounds out from between them. “I already caught one. It was easy.”
“You’re annoying.”
He stares at you, his blue eyes icy. “You’re annoying.”  
“You’re the one who came over.”
He rolls his eyes. “We train at your estate.”
“How come?”
“How come what?”
“How come we train here? Your estate is probably better.”
He shrugs, opening his hands enough to peer down at the frog. It glistens in the sunlight, the same deep green as the lush courtyard. It makes a break for freedom; he closes his hands again, his long fingers sewing the gap shut. “I like it better here.”
You wrinkle your nose. “Why?”
“I just do,” he says, voice flat.
You don’t ask again.
“Why are we here?”
Gojo blinks, his long white lashes sweeping over the sweet curve of his cheek. “Why are you whispering?”
Your cheeks heat. The Gojo estate is a sprawling, massive maw; you’ve felt devoured ever since you set foot in it. Even the golden light that slants through the shoji feels cold. There are ikebana arrangements lining the halls, the leggy, deep purple irises sculptural as they rise proudly from the vases, but it still feels like a mausoleum. 
“We’ve just never trained here before,” you say, taking care to use your regular voice. “So why are we here now?”
He shrugs. “They insisted.”
“Who?”
He dismisses the question with a wave of his hand, his long pianist’s fingers cutting through the air. You roll your eyes, long used to his occasionally imperious ways. The two of you continue along the hallways, you trailing after him closely, as if caught in his gravity, an orbiting moon. 
You almost run into him when he comes to a sudden halt. You peek around him—in the last few months, he’s gone through a growth spurt, one that your mother says will come when you’re his age, and he’s too tall to peer over his shoulder—and see a servant bowing low, her ebony hair glinting.
“Gojo-sama,” she says. “Please follow me. The elders are waiting.”
He sighs, a dramatic heave of his chest. “What do they want?”
“They didn’t specify.”
“Ugh.”
“Gojo-sama—”
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” he says. “Go tell those geezers I’ll be there soon.” 
You wince right along with the servant. Gojo’s disdain for the elders is not new, but it still unnerves you every time, as if they will come along and smite you down. 
“C’mon,” Gojo says to you. “Let’s get it over with.”
The servant clears her throat. “Only you, Gojo-sama.”
He glares, his blue eyes burning, a comet streaking through the sky. “No,” he says. “They’re coming.”
“They cannot.”
“I said they’re coming.” 
“It’s okay,” you tell him, eyes wide. “Really.” 
Gojo looks back at you. For a second, his mouth is a wound, tender and pink, but in the next breath, it’s gone, frozen under a layer of ice.
“Fine.” 
You bite your lip, but he’s already walking away. You catch yourself before you reach for him. He disappears down the hallway, his hair glinting like exposed bone.
The servant turns to you. “This way,” she says, her voice perfectly neutral.
You follow her to an empty room; she slides the shoji shut behind herself as you settle onto the cushion at the chabudai. You gaze around the room. There’s not much to take in; it’s wealthy in a subdued way. You fidget with the hem of your sleeve and then get to your feet.
You slide open the shoji leading out to the engawa; it opens onto a huge, lush courtyard. The plush flowers are weighted down by their own blooms, their stems curving like a dancer’s back. A shishi-odoshi rings out with a hollow thud; a few songbirds scatter, their wings rustling like leaves as they soar towards the sky. 
You step out onto the engawa. It’s still early enough that the sun slants onto the wood, warming it. You sit down and bask in it, tilting your face up for the sun’s sweet kiss. You lay back, your eyes fluttering shut.
A voice wakes you.
“He’s an insolent brat!” a man hisses. “He needs to be taken in hand!”
“He’s too powerful,” another man answers. His voice is calm, but you can sense the ripples in it, the thing lurking underneath. “We can only do what we’re already doing.”
You go still. They can only be talking about Gojo. Their footsteps echo; they’re drawing closer and closer.
“It’s not enough.” 
“He’s still young. Maybe we can mold him.” 
The first man snorts. “You don’t believe that.”
“No, I don’t.” 
“There’s something wrong with that boy,” the first man says. “Those eyes—that power—and not even a hint of a mark. He’s barely human.”
Their footsteps are starting to fade; their voices become murmurs. But you still hear it when the second man says:
“I don’t think he’s human at all.”
Then they’re gone, fading from your world like malevolent spirits, dissipating on the wind. You unclench your fists and find that your nails have bitten into your skin, little half-moon curves cutting through the leylines of your palms. 
Gojo shows up a mere minute later. He slides open the shoji with a bang; his eyes find you immediately. 
“C’mon,” he says, stepping out into the courtyard. His eyes are shadowed; his lips are pulled tight, an unstitched wound. He’s heard them, you realize. You’ve never seen him bothered by other people’s opinions; your chest aches, a pressed bruise. You open your mouth to say something, but you can’t find the words. 
He grabs your hand as he passes by you, tugging you along behind him, ignoring your surprised yelp. “Let’s go before those stupid geezers find me again.” 
“Where are we going?”
“Away from here.”
“But my shoes—”
He glances back at you and you drown in blue. 
“Okay,” you say quietly. “Let’s go.” 
He doesn’t answer; he just tugs you along. You stare at the back of his head for a moment, trying to make sense of the expression you’d seen flash across his face before he’d turned around again. You can’t understand it, but you know one thing.
He’s never looked more human to you.
The next time you see him, you’re prepared.
You uncap the marker with your teeth. You reach out for Gojo’s arm; he pulls away before you can grab hold, as quick as a darting fish. 
“What are you doing?” he asks.
“Give me your arm.” 
“Why?”
“You’ll see.” 
He eyes you for a moment, but gives you his arm.
You push up his yukata sleeve to expose the tender underbelly of his wrist. You start to write, laboring over each stroke of the marker, keeping it as neat as you can. The silver ink covers the rivers of his blue-green veins as it sinks into his skin, a childish tattoo. 
“There,” you say, finishing with a somewhat-shaky flourish. “Now you have a mark.”
Gojo stares at you, his cerulean gaze lit from within, the sea beneath the sun. He covers the katakana of your name with his free hand, careful not to smudge the still-drying characters. Under the shadow, they fade to gray, but they still glint and glimmer the same way real soulmarks do. 
You hum, pleased with yourself, cap the marker, and toss it to the side so you can start training. 
You don’t know it yet, but it’s your last session with him. He disappears into the dawn like a fading star, spirited off to Tokyo to continue his training. You’ve only spent six months with him. Still, it aches, a pressed bruise, but you’ve always known he would outgrow you; his power is a black hole, always devouring. 
Life, ever unmoved, continues on. 
The boy you knew fades from your memories, though you never forget him. It’s impossible, with the stories that come out of Tokyo, how he completes missions that no one his age should be able to handle. 
Still, you forget things. The tilt of his mouth; the cadence of his voice. He becomes a shadow of himself, a shade with burning blue eyes. 
You forget that you once wrote your name on the delicate inside of his wrist. 
Gojo, though—
Gojo never does.
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strawberrymochin · 5 months ago
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The cum analysis
A slight analysis on how jjk men would cum | Gojo satoru; Geto suguru; Nanami kento; Ryomen sukuna; Toji fushiguro |
Gojo Satoru
Gojo cums hard and a lot. Like insanely a lot. He would shudder from the build up pleasure with a series of moans as he spurts his load into you. You could say you're milking him rather than making him cum. Sometimes he might cum prematurely while foreplay, which is practically a chance for you to display your dominance and overstimulate him. And when I say he cums a lot, I mean even if he wears condoms to prevent it ending inside of you, the intensity of him cumming would either end up leaking out of the condom or breaking it. If he fucks you raw, his one orgasm would end up filling your cervix upto the brim.
His cum would be thick, creamy and milky white. Super jiggly in texture almost resembling jelly. It would have a slight odour and would taste sweet considering the amount of sweet he consumes in his diet.
Geto Suguru
Geto cums a lot, but he tries to edge himself along with you wanting to sync both of your highs. He would be totally focused on making you feel good, drawing circles on your clit with his tip as his other hand focuses on streching your tight velvet walls for him to make it fit, curling his fingers inside you, drawing orgasm after orgasm, totally neglecting his throbbing penis. When he finally buries himself in you and starts thrusting himself chasing the doors of heaven he gets to experience, rolling his eyes back, swallowing his moans, he would feel his balls getting heavy and his muscles around his pelvic region starting to contract. He would not be able to contain himself and finally cum as he furiously drives you through another orgasm pinching your oversensitive nipples. He would cum in spurts filling you up so good that his cum would be oozing out your vagina messing the sheets even though he hasn't pulled out yet.
His cum would be slick and creamy. It would the prettiest pearly white you've ever seen as it trickles down your legs, when you stand up. His cum would be odour less and might be sweet or salty depending upon his current diet.
Nanami Kento
Damn. He hates making mess, you know right? He's lowkey a clean freak and would hate to mess things up, except that one time where he would lose his shit and cum uncontrollably as he fucks you on the kitchen counter, in low spurts messing the kitchen floor and you both. You just wanted to bake some vanilla cupcakes for him, however he had you now bend over the counter ass fucking you while the cup cake batter laid aside in neglectance. He would twitch uncontrollably as he fucks you senseless while his balls rams on your pussy with each thrust. The fact that he's fucking you mindlessly as both of your slick pool down, in his kitchen made his cock even more hard, as he continues cumming. He cums a decent amount of his load enough for you to feel more than satisfied.
His cum would be sticky and might smell a bit metalic. His texture would be somewhat between creamy and watery. It will be sticky as said earlier and I dunno if it's weird to describe it that way but if you swallow his load your mouth would feel sticky like umm....well.....prime from dark web...what the heck I'm even babbling.... forget you ever read this....but like all those reels if you have seen you would know the texture I'm talking about....whatever let's move on.
Ryomen Sukuna
Hail lord sukuna!! Sukuna- sama's cum would make your head go dizzy. It's almost so addictive that you would be begging him to fill you up to the brim again. And I'm not even kidding when I say this but once you've had it there's no backing away. He cums a heck lot and even after cumming three times or more his still hard cock would be pounding into your pussy mercilessly. He ejaculates fast with lots of load, thus you wouldn't have time to leak out the previous one as another one fills you up, he would creampie your pussy and press his big palm on your lower stomach just to see his cum spurting from the sides of your hole stuffed with his dick. Sukuna- sama and his dick- sama both are merciless. I don't need to explain more....Ig
His cum would be thick and slippery, and so much in quantity that you could save it up and use it as a lube in future. :⁠-⁠) His cum would stink a bit and you love the nasty humid sex smell it gives off. Might even taste metalic or salty. Have fun.
Toji Fushiguro
Toji— the dilfushiguro would cum a decent amount to get your entire lower region sticky and sloppy with his mess. Your ass would pound up and down forming sticky strings, exhilarating the sound of your skin slapping as the moans of you two echoes through the empty room. His fingers would tangle itself, rolling the slick of you both only to stuff it into your mouth wanting you to lick his finger clean. He might also tell you to lick his dick clean after you both ride down your high.
His cum would be sticky, sloppy and thick. I believe it might be slight off cold like of pale white, since being broke baby wouldn't have a proper diet, that still doesn't affect the quality of sperms yk. Also his cum would be odourless.
Other parts of this series- The moan analysis | The Dick analysis
© strawberrymochin 24 | plagiarism won't be tolerated |
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maisanshine · 1 month ago
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𝟖 |𝐉𝐉𝐊
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The playlist series
Paring- Boyfriend!Jungkook x Girlfriend!Reader
Waring; oral (f. receiving), ass play. that’s literally it enhance the title
A/N; have you been here before, you look familiar?
Not edited
Now playing 𝟖 - 𝐛𝐲 𝐤𝐞𝐡𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐢
✩★✩★✩★✩★✩★✩★ ✩★✩★✩★✩★✩★✩★ ✩
"Jungkook?"
"Hhm," your doe-eyed boyfriend looks up at you, his face leaving the comfort of your breast.
"How do you feel about giving head?" Jungkook's head perks up. His eyes widen with curiosity as he looks at you, waiting for his response. You can see the mischievous glint in his eyes, hinting at his eagerness to the question.
"What?" His cheeks are red. You smile, rubbing his pink-stained cheek. "I want to sit on your face," Jungkook's smile widened up. You let out a giggle, feeling the warmth of his blush against your palm. His eyes sparkle with excitement as he leans in closer, eager to fulfill, your desires . "I can't wait to taste you," he whispers, his voice filled with darkness.
Jungkook starts attacking your face with kisses. You moan as he smooths kisses all over your face.
He kisses your lips. "Go ahead, baby," you smile, perking up. Jungkook lays on his back. , Your legs are around his neck. You look down at him. Eyes locking together, "Are you sure?" Jungkook nods, yanking your body to sit directly on top of him.
He pulls your panties to the side, licking a long strip against you. His touch sends shivers down your spine as you feel his warm breath against your skin. You arch your back in pleasure, unable to resist his seductive charm. Jungkook's tongue explores your body, sending montains of pleasure through you. You gasp as he licks you, the connection of his tongue with your walls between your legs making you shake.
You lower on him, grabbing into his hair. Running through the shiney strands of his soft hair. As he continues to please you, you feel your body reaching new heights of ecstasy. Every movement of his tongue against your cunt ignites a fire within you, driving you closer to the edge of bliss. You moan his name, unable to keep up with the overwhelming pleasure he gives you.
Your cunt rubs against his nose, and perk up, shocked at the feel. But Jungkook slams you on him. He devours you, slipping his tongue in and out of your hole, wetting up all your sides, sucking, and pulling, teasing you. His hands grip your thighs firmly, holding you in place as he expertly brings you to the brink of release. His relentless eating sends the white hot heat of sensation through your body, leaving you gasping for air and clinging to him for dear life. Every touch, every kiss, and every movement from him feels like pure heaven.
You start to move forward and back, again and again. Your speed getting rough as you lose yourself in this pleasure that was a met thought just minutes ago. Your hands in his hair, riding his face to your building orgasm. Your legs are sweaty, mind fogging as you feel the heat travel through your body.
Jungkook grips your thighs as you movig on him faster, and you clit plusing together as you finsh on his face. Jungkook breathes hot air over your skin as he breathes in your orgasam. You collapse against him, both of you breathing heavily, completely lost in your. The intensity of the pleasure leaves you both in a state of euphoria.
🝮
"Dose the Princess, wants to get eaten?" Jungkook smile. Leaning into you and kissing your neck. You nod playing with the ear of your Hello Kitty plushie. "Should've just said so, baby."
You and Jungkook had a fight to hours ago about (in his eyes) the stupidest thing ever.
A girl giving your man flowers, the man your with seven days a week, 24 hours a day. You were angry to say the least turns out he was buying you flowers.
You brushed him off and stormed to your room without a word. Now you’re about to get devoured up by Jungkook’s poseidon.
You pull your legs apart, rubbing a finger at your slit. "You're very wet, little slut soaking through her panties. Just waiting to get licked?" You nod excitedly.
"I want to taste you so bad," he whisper, feeling your heart race with precognition.
"Please." He beg, spreading your legs wider in anticipation.
"Yes, Jungkook, please." Jungkook takes off your underwear, leaving your pink skirt. He plays with your soft thighs. Licks up your cunt. He spreads your wetness against his lips. Licking over all your nerves. His tongue dances over your clit, sending shivers down your back. You moan softly, arching your back in pleasure as he continues to explore every inch of you with his mouth.
He moves his head to the side to tease your little hole. Sucking your clit into his mouth. "You taste so sweet." You grab into his hair. And pull him closer, wanting more of his touch.
"Mhm, kookie!" Jungkook teases your pearl, swirling his tongue around the nub. He inserts a finger into you. You moan loudly. Jungkook slaps you cunt. Driving back into you. Licking you all over. He goes lower and licks over your puckered hole. You cry out in pleasure, feeling his every move intensify your desire.
You cup your mouth and moan loudly into your hand. Jungkook tastes his note. He gets on his knees. You look at him, and you breathe. "Why do you stop?" You suck in a breath when Jungkook flips you over. Grabbing your hips. You push your chest into your mattress. You grip your satin pink sheets.
"Jungkook-ahh," Jungkook plunges into your wetness. He licks and moves up. He swirls his tongue around your puckered hole. You scream into your pillow. Punching your mattress.
Jungkook, Sucks both of your holes. Playing and teasing with both. You feel your body crashing out. You orgasm mixing your stomach. You groan until you feel Jungkook's thick finger thrust into your ass. You feel the rush of pleasure wash over you. You arch your back and moan loudly, unable to control your reactions.
You roll your eyes. Moan, you holding his wrist. Jungkook's licks your clit from the back with his finger deep into your ass. Just the thought gets you over. You grab onto the sheets, your body trembling with pleasure. Jungkook's touch sends you spiraling into every nerve, ending on fire with drive.
Your knees feel weak as your orgasms wash over you. Your body is breaking down. Jungkook continues finger fucking you through your high. You collapse onto the bed, panting heavily as Jungkook's fingers continue to work their magic. Every muscle in your body feels like jelly, completely spent from the intense pleasure. Jungkook leans down and whispers in your ear,
"Fuck, I would fuck you, but...I'm tired." Jungkook laughs, looking at your slumped body against your soft pink pillow. He fixed your skirt, hauling you up your cuddle. His warm embrace envelops you as you drift off to sleep.
You fell asleep in your boyfriend's arms.
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screampied · 2 days ago
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hi vegas how are u!!!!!! i was curious, are there any fics (like porn WITH plot kinda fics) that you would DIE ON A HILL for? i've been on this fanfic kick lately and after reading every single one of ur DELICIOUS works i need more!!! love u and ur writing sm i hope you have the best day/night <3
hi nonnie im doing okay !!!! i hope you’re doing well also 🙂‍↕️🫵 ack ur so sweet thank u sm u too :’) FUCK YEAHHHHHH. i probably don’t have many but i can name a few of my fav pwp driven fics for yew !!!!
AU REVOIR, O HEAVEN by @satoruhour is literally chef’s kiss. noooo joke reading that entire fic from start to end was like i was watching a movie. YOU GOTTA READ IT. veryyyy immersive, and there’s a follow up part two which tops the cake !!!!! this is literature right here mmmngh
DYING FOR YOUR LOVE by @staryukis was an INSANEEEE READ. i love a good zombie! au ‘n if ur into stuff like that this is totally up your alley. also the ANGST IS TOP TIER. i genuinely read this in one sitting and it DIDNT DISAPPOINT. logan has a masterlist i believe for more works like these id rec also !!!!
HEARTSTRINGS & BULLETS by @sttoru IS A MUST READDDDD. i literally got hooked on the first chapter, the tension build up is amazing. toji ‘n reader getting introduced to each other — the difference in personalities, I LOVED IT. literally once you start, it’s immersive and the flow is YUM. again, also felt like i was watching a movie / netflix show. karina also has a masterlist for this series i’d rec checking out for more !!!
FIVE HUSBANDS by @kingkonoha are you kidding. the way the endings of each chap would have me off the edge of my SEAT. this is an attack on titan! au and i think tay said it’s based off the book ‘the seven husbands of evelyn hugo’. this series is soooooooo good, i literally live for the drama. it’s completed, and i can’t wait to give it a reread bc it’s AMAZING.
these are all i can think from the top of my head for now !!! 🏌️‍♀️
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sunnymoonxx · 4 months ago
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❝paint me a heaven of love with your bloodied mouth❞ | qimir x reader, ch1
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pairing: qimir x fem!reader!yord's sister
summary: You were never confident about the retreat mission on Khofar, always fearing for your safety and that of your friends. Your worst nightmare comes true when a mysterious masked man kills your brother. Driven by grief and rage, you launch a desperate attack, which leaves you unconscious. You wake up, surprisingly unharmed, on the stranger's home island. Consumed by anger and a thirst for revenge, you set out to avenge your brother, only to uncover secrets you never imagined.
warnings: MDNI!, english is not my native language, violence, major character death, mentions of blood, mental illness, smut in upcoming chapters, enemies to lovers, vulgar language, angst n comfort
a/n: planning for this to be a mini-series, around five chapters, and for the idea I have to thank @ladysw01 . Hope y'all like this one too, and also stay tuned for he turns me scarlet pt2, it's in the works!
now playing, when it's cold i'd like to die by, moby
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Shadows loomed, their rough forms twisting in the dim moonlight, filtering through the dense canopy above. The forest floor was a maze of roots and underbrush, but you navigated it with the agility of a creature born to the wild. Sweat poured down your face, stinging your eyes, blending with the fear that clawed at your heart.
You felt it—the tug in your heart, tearing at its edges. You experienced it once before and hoped you’d never have to again. But now, it was back, and far worse than ever. You dared to imagine what might happen but quickly dismissed the thought. He was your only family. You couldn’t let it happen.
Your breath came in ragged gasps as you sprinted through the oppressive darkness, the hum of your ignited lightsaber a solitary beacon in the gloom. Branches whipped your cheeks and tangled in your hair, but you pushed on, driven by the urgent sense of danger thrumming through the Force. You had felt it, a disturbance sharp and sudden, a vision of your Yord in mortal danger.
"Yord!" you screamed; your voice swallowed by the infinite, uncaring wilderness. Your steps faltered as the sense of dread intensified, leading you closer, ever closer, to the source of your terror.
Bursting into a clearing, you slid to a halt, your heart crashing at the sight before you. Yord was hanging mid-air, his feet dangling uselessly, held above by a dark force. The stranger you heard so much about, stood before him, one bloody hand outstretched, the other resting at their side with an eerie calmness.
Your eyes were only glued on the man and your brother, dangling in the air. You failed to see Master Sol and Mae standing close by, both standing there in shock, not daring to breathe.
Before you managed to move or cry out, in a fluid, almost nonchalant motion, the stranger twisted their wrist. Your heart stopped. A sickening snap echoed through the forest, and Yord's body went limp, his lifeless form flung aside with a casual flick, landing in a crumpled heap against the base of a tree.
Numbly, you stared at the lifeless body, discarded like a ragdoll, as if he meant nothing. No tears left your eyes, but you swore you couldn't feel your heart beating, as if it had stopped when your Yord’s did. You didn't know how long you stood there, staring at the person who once made you laugh and helped you become a better person. His soft laugh, his insistence on following the rules, and his desire to please others—all gone. He had taught you how to read. Now, everything was gone. His laughter faded into the darkness along with his heartbeat.
You felt like you heard faint voices in the background, but all your focus was on Yord's empty eyes.
It was Sol, shouting your name, desperately warning you to move. But no matter how hard you tried; you were frozen in place. The shock and grief had paralyzed you. Then, out of the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of the creature in the mask. The small flicker of its movement shattered your paralysis, and a surge of anger erupted within you, erasing all other thoughts. The need for vengeance overtook your grief, fueling your every breath and heartbeat.
It all happened like a fever dream—foggy, with only a few clear fragments. You heard a scream, unable to tell if it was yours or someone else's. But you didn't care. Your legs moved on their own toward the stranger, your eyes fixed on his dark, long waves of hair.
Your lightsaber slipped through your fingers, the weight of it suddenly too heavy to hold. Your arms seemed to move of their own accord, rising toward the sky as if reaching for something beyond grasp. The air crackled with a threating storm, ear-shattering roar that drowned out all other sounds. In that moment, you locked eyes with the stranger, fear etched deeply into their features, mirroring your own uncertainty.
Time slowed to a crawl as lightning split the sky, casting an eerie glow over the scene. The thunderous boom echoed through your bones, shaking you to your core. The stranger's expression twisted in horror, as if they knew something you didn't, something that would change everything.
Then, as swiftly as the storm had gathered, darkness enveloped your senses. Your consciousness faded into the cool embrace of the moss beneath you, leaving behind unanswered questions and a lingering sense of dread.
*· . ✶
As you woke up, cold air embraced you, raising goosebumps across your body. Your head pounded with such intensity that you considered it might explode, while your arms trembled in lingering unease. You slowly lifted yourself up on your elbows, trying to figure out where you were and recall anything that had happened.
Your head throbbed painfully, your legs were covered in bruises, and your hands were wrapped in bandages. Confused, you tore them off, only to reveal deep burns etched like tree branches from your palms down to your forearms, resembling thunder silhouettes in the sky.
You had no memory of what had happened, until you spotted your lightsaber next to the mouth of the cave you found yourself trapped in. Yord.
Yord.
Yord was dead. Your brother was dead. My brother's dead. Dead.
Your heart sank into your stomach, and suddenly, you found yourself lying on your side, vomiting beside your makeshift bed. Your hair fell like curtains around your head, your eyes fluttering shut. The reality of your Yord’s death was almost too much to bear. Thoughts swirled chaotically; you wanted to scream, cry, and even trade places with him. Emotions blurred together in your mind, but one stood out starkly: anger. It surged within you, painting your vision red. You yearned for revenge, for the murderer to suffer, to experience the agony you felt in that moment.
You didn't dare count how long you bent over, vomiting on the cold cave surface. The bitter taste of vomit mixed with your salty tears woke you up, pushing you to pull yourself together and look around. You struggled to breathe and see through your watery eyes, so you reached out through the Force. Finding yourself in a small cave on an unfamiliar island, surrounded by a wild ocean, you caught sight of a shadowy figure. A dark force enveloping their silhouette.
Your heart skipped a beat as your eyes flew open. There he was—the one who had taken Yord’s life. And now he has brought you here. Was it to end your life as well? To make you suffer? But you were already in agony. Doubt lingered whether he could intensify the pain any further.
You reached out through the Force again, seeking a clear vision of the target's location. You saw him taking slow, deliberate steps, carefully navigating around sharp rocks until he reached a shore where water brushed around his ankles. Following his trail from your current position, you discovered a path that would lead you to him.
It took you minutes to find the strength to get out of bed, ignoring the messy curls in front of your eyes and the dirty clothes from the previous night. Grabbing your lightsaber, you made your way out of the cave. Trusting your intuition, you followed the stranger's path, mentally preparing to face him. Fear wasn't in your heart—only fury and grief. You wanted to see his head separate from his body.
The trail was longer than expected, but you didn't stop once you reached your target. He swam peacefully in the calm water, his back facing you. His long, wet hair draped over strong shoulders marked with scars. You watched as he ran his hand through his hair—the same hand that had killed Yord and torn your family apart. Anger surged within you; your fury fueled by the simple sight of him.
He sensed you; you could feel it. Your anger was loud enough for the entire galaxy to hear, and you wanted him to hear it the loudest. Without thinking, you began walking towards the water, lightsaber ignited, ready to strike.
You focused solely on him—his strong back and raven hair. He didn’t even turn to face you, though you knew he could feel all your emotions. He remained motionless, confident that you wouldn’t attack. Or at least, he thought so.
Lifting your lightsaber as you closed the distance, the water now up to your hips, you struck his back. The stranger was slow to react, barely managing to block your attack. Your lightsaber grazed his shoulder, leaving a scorching scar. Realizing he was wrong about your intentions, he moved quickly in the water, turning and twisting your arm until you dropped your lightsaber, just as he had done with your brother. He pressed you against his chest, his hands gripping your arms, but before he could strangle you, you drove your elbow into his ribs, pushing hard until you heard a crack.
He released his grip to catch his breath, giving you a few precious seconds to summon your lightsaber from the depths of the water. As it returned to your hand, poised to strike, you felt the stranger's hands clamp down on your shoulders, his fingers digging in fiercely. The pain seared through you, his nails tearing at your flesh. Taking advantage of your vulnerable position, he seized your lightsaber and snapped it in half effortlessly, as if it was a mere stick. You watched in disbelief as he threw the broken parts into the deep ocean behind you, leaving you stunned. Before you could react, he swiftly wrapped one arm around your neck while the other pinned your hands behind your back, pressing his body close against yours.
"Not the morning greeting I was hoping for," he purred against your ear, his arm tightening around your windpipe, robbing you of breath. You felt a strange sensation in your stomach as he pressed closer, the warmth of his body making you shiver involuntarily. It was unsettling, making you feel nauseous.
You fought back, struggling to break free from his grasp, but with each attempt, his hold on you tightened, leaving marks on your neck and wrists. You fought against the tears threatening to fall, overwhelmed by feelings of helplessness and humiliation. You yearned to threaten him, to make him scream for what he had done to Yord and to you.
But you couldn't move an inch, forced to endure his deadly grip on you. You felt his breath tickling the hair on your neck, his damp, bare body pressed against your back, his hand crushing your wrists together.
“Do you remember me?” he asked, his voice low against your ear, his nose pressing against your cheek. You felt his smile as you struggled to breathe and move, fighting against his overpowering grip. The fury surged through you even more intensely, his mocking tone fueling a desire to scream out in defiance. How could you not? You saw him twist your brother’s neck and you were certain he was about to do the same thing to you.
As if he could read your mind, which he likely could, he chuckled softly to himself.
"Not from yesterday," he murmured into your ear, his arm around your neck loosening slightly to allow you to breathe, yet he did not release you. "We met a few days ago, in my shop. You were there too." he continued.
You resisted the urge to struggle against his grip, realizing you had no other choice but to listen. Attempting to calm your anger, you unwillingly focused on his words. You recalled visiting the suspect's shop a few days earlier—a place with a man with long, greasy black hair and an odd voice. Uncertain of where he was leading with this revelation, you listened intently.
"So lost in your own selfishness that you didn't even recognize me?" he mocked, twisting your wrists to inflict more pain, as though hurt you didn’t recognize him. Then, the realization struck. He had been there all along, pulling the strings and mocking everyone. Mae's master. The stranger beneath the mask. Yord's killer.
"You—" you choked on your words, barely able to speak. You recalled visiting the apothecary in the days before, noticing him as the new face in the city. He had pretended to be new, and you had enjoyed his company, visiting him several times. A wave of humiliation washed over you, and you sensed that he felt it too.
“That’s right,” he whispered into your ear, his hands briefly leaving your body before firmly gripping your waist and pressing you against the nearest rock. Finally, you got a clear look at his face. In the darkness of the previous night, you hadn't seen him clearly, and moments ago, you hadn't cared. Now, his gaze met yours directly as he pushed you against the rough surface, leaving your hands free, hanging by your side. You had the freedom to strike him, to fight your way out, but you remained still.
He allowed your eyes to roam over him. You scanned his high cheekbones and sharp features, framed by dark waves, curtains to his deep dark eyes. Pink, full lips, and set above a clean mustache. Your gaze then fell to his visible collarbones, adorned with salty droplets.
He was undeniably beautiful, and you felt sick you didn’t even try to deny it. He looked like a fallen angel, someone straight out of religious legends you would read about.
He savored your shocked gaze, but what intrigued him more were your thundering thoughts. Inside your mind, thoughts clashed and screamed over one another, leaving no room for silence or clarity. You instantly recognized his intent from his intense stare and tried to block him out of your mind. But it was too late. He effortlessly stripped you bare, reading you like a mythical book.
"You're scared," he uttered with total seriousness. You struggled to comprehend how he could read you so easily and attempted to use your powers to cloud his thoughts. Yet, after years of suppressing them, you failed once more. “Not of me. Of the Order.” He tilted his head, a gesture that suggested surprise at what he had uncovered.
"Get out of my head," you hissed at him, delivering a punch to his chest, but he didn't even flinch. The water was cold, and the chill in the air only worsened it. The only warmth came from his body—and from another place you tried to ignore.
"You lie to yourself," he added, ignoring the punches to his chest and the barrage of curses you hurled at him. "The Jedi were never your family. You live in delusion." He looked down at you, a hint of pity in his expression.
“You killed Yord,” you cried out, feeling his grip on your waist loosen.
“He was never your brother. Not really.” His words struck you like a blow, and in a surge of rage, you punched him in the chest with all your strength. He stumbled back, the warmth of his grip vanishing from your waist, leaving you both separated and gasping in the cold air.
You stared at him, eyes wide with uncertainty, unsure of your next move. You watched his chest rise and fall, strands of hair falling over his forehead. Fear gripped you, worried that he had seen through you, revealing memories you wished to forget.
"You lied about who you were. You murdered Jedi like they were cockroaches. My brother!" you screamed at him, tears threatening to spill as you fought to hold them back. You slowly made your way back to the shore, ignoring his presence following in your footsteps. The wet pants clung to your body, making each step more difficult than the last.
As you reached the shore, small rocks stabbing at your feet, you heard him speak.
“Then why did he never consider you as his sister.” His voice was cold and low, monotone with no emotions on the surface. Your movements stopped, listening as he made his way to the shore as well, standing just a few centimeters away from you. Your chest hurt like someone was pinching the flesh of your heart.
You forced yourself to turn around, facing him and his ethereal beauty. There he stood, bare before you, vulnerable and exposed. You tried to focus on his words, your heart sinking into your stomach.
"You heard me." He tilted his head, taking a small step toward you. His eyes locked onto yours, unwavering. "You know I'm right. Ever since you became Padawans, he kept you apart. No matter what you tried, even resorting to tricks just to see him, he always pushed you away. Following rules that made it harder for you to be together, like the Order meant more to him than you did. You were just a little girl, and he chose duty over your bond." He continued, every word a fuel to your anger. But now you weren’t sure who the anger was meant for.
“Shut the fuck up!” You raised your voice, stepping down to him. “You don’t know anything. You’re a Sith! A murderer! You don’t know anything about me or my life.’”
"Except I do." He allowed you to approach, keeping you within arm's reach. "You think things changed after you both passed the trials and had more freedom. They didn't. He feared you. He feared your power. An empath, right? The most dangerous ability one can possess. Even the Order feared it. With one emotion, you could overthrow everything overnight. They couldn't trust you. Not even your own brother could."
You lunged at him, aiming a punch at his jaw, which connected solidly. He stumbled back, a red mark blooming on his cheek. However, all you received in return was a smirk on his lips and the sight of him licking a drop of blood from his lip.
"That's not true," you replied, your voice stinging with anger. "They knew about my abilities, but no one feared me.”
You heard a laugh coming from him, lifting up his head, staring you down.
“Why do you keep lying to yourself?” He stepped closer, his breath almost brushing your face. “You knew they wanted to be rid of you from the moment you began showing signs. Master Sol? He distrusted you the most. Yord feared you. Jecki was too naive to form her own opinion and just listened to the elders.”
“Stop,” you failed to form a normal sentence, not knowing what to do or how to act. You were scared he was right. You didn’t want to admit it to yourself.
"Last night, when you attacked me, I took you before they could wake up," he confessed, gently brushing his hand over yours. You stared at his chest, too ashamed to meet his gaze. "What do you think will happen when they discover you used forbidden power? Do you believe they'll spare you when you're already hanging by a thread?”
He is right.
No.
He’s a liar. A murderer.
But he’s right.
"Kill me, and return to your naive trust in them," he urged, leaning closer with a mix of pity and understanding in his gaze. "Or stay here and let me help you."
You failed to notice that your hand was in his, unsure of how long he had been holding it. Your gaze remained fixed on his chest, searching for any hint of deceit or manipulation, but you found none. The weight of uncertainty bore down on you, and you wished to crumble, to disappear and never resurface again. Lost, confused, dizzy, you were paralyzed, uncertain of your next move.
“They’re my family.” You whispered, mostly to yourself.
"A real family wouldn’t betray you," he whispered back, his thumb tracing small circles on your palm. You felt the anger within you slowly melt away, replaced by an unfamiliar, strange sensation.
Raising your head slowly, you met his gaze, surprised by the softness you found in his eyes. Before you could gather your thoughts or resist, a waterfall of tears began pouring from your eyes, and the only arms there to catch you were the same ones that had stopped your heart just a few hours ago.
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yoonbroom · 1 year ago
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SEVENTEEN FIC RECS
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a list of seventeen fics I really enjoyed! pls go and show these amazing authors some love <3 also if there wasn't a summary on the fic I just included a little paragraph or the request! now onto the recs ↓
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CHOI SEUNGCHEOL
HELLO TUTORIAL - @97-liners
oneshot, fluff, college au, frat au
it’s your final year of college, and you’ve been elected president of your sorority. this is all great and fine, but as the semester goes on, you find yourself having repeated run-ins with the president of the fraternity next door in a series of unfortunate coincidences (that might not actually be coincidences, as you come to discover). or: in which you’re trying to deal with your crush on seungcheol in a normal way, but the meddling kids are making it harder than it needs to be.
FRACTURED PARENTING, PT.2 - @berriesandjunnie
oneshot angst, fluff, idol au, separated parents au, enemies to lovers
parenting can be an emotional rollercoaster when you’re far from divorced and the flames are far from dying.
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YOON JEONGHAN
UNTITLED - @userjuyo
drabble, fluff, est relationship
"i just know than jeonghan would tease his s/o a lot, but whenever they went “hannie :(“ he would literally MELT like he’d just be like “okay sweetheart i’m sorry 🥺” and the members would be like ????? BC HE WON’T LET THEM LIVE but it’s his baby so &lt;;3"
UNTITLED - @wqnwoos
drabble, fluff, est relationship
“what if crabs think that fish can fly?” your question is whispered into the darkness of your bedroom — you gazing at the ceiling thoughtfully, while jeonghan curls up beside you.
OF RAINY NIGHTS AND ROSES - @chenfleur
oneshot, angst, fluff, idol au, est relationship
In the heat of the moment, Jeonghan grows careless with his words. Now, he has to bear the weight of saying things he didn't mean.
DAISIES - @viastro
oneshot, angst, fluff, strangers to lovers
the best type of revenge is to hurt the person that means the most to them. aka, in which jeonghan is in charge of making you fall in love with him, just to break your heart. 
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JOSHUA HONG
BEST FRIENDS BROTHER - @chocosvt
oneshot, fluff, angst, smut, best friends brother
joshua happens to be your best friend’s older brother. he’s pretty, and he’s got a lot of cool details about him that you pay a concerning amount of attention to, but he’s just a friend (if you could even call it that). still, what does he think of you, anyway? that is—if he thinks of you.
IT TAKES TWO - @/berriesandjunnie
oneshot, fluff, idol au, parent au, est relationship
a family is a little scary when your partner has over millions of fans.
UNTITLED - @/wqnwoos
drabble, fluff, est relationship
"it feels like the sky has only just welcomed the sun when joshua tries to get up to leave."
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WEN JUNHUI
HEAVEN COULDN'T WAIT FOR YOU - @/berriesandjunnie
oneshot, angst, idol au
i just couldn’t stand to see you leaving but heaven couldn’t wait for you.
HAPPY ENDING - @junkissed
one shot, angst, fluff, marriage, est relationship
a pointless argument escalates until both of you need some space, but it couldn't come at a worse time.
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KWON SOONYOUNG
LET ME TRY AGAIN - @papermatisse
oneshot, angst, fluff, exes to lovers, parent au
Soonyoung had never wanted to live a restrained capitalistic life, forced to work a tiresome 9 to 5, paying taxes until the day he dies. Though in exchange to pursue the other option, that being devotion to a career, he had to pay an unfathomably large price—he had to abandon everything and everyone he's ever loved. can he fit himself back into his former life? one that's changed more than he can possibly imagine? could the ones he loved forgive him for his wrongdoings? could he get the second chance he wants so desperately?
(UN)TRADITIONAL - @neonun-au
oneshot, fluff, wedding au, est relationship
"The digital clock on the hotel night stand flashes the next minute as it passes. A re-run of Law & Order: SVU drones on in the background as you sit at the edge of the bed, staring sleeplessly at your wedding dress hanging on the back of the closet door. "
VOWELS AND VERACITY - @hansolmates
oneshot, fluff, angst, smut, teacher au, single parent
after a blind date that makes you feel like a giddy teenager all over again, you’re forced to grow up and take a chance when you realize that special someone is your daughter’s kindergarten teacher.
BE SWEET - @heartkyeom
oneshot, fluff, angst, smut, royalty, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers
“Why are you here?” Your tone is resolute, not allowing for even an inch of resistance. “That’s what we need to talk about. We’re getting married,” He lifts the corner of his mouth. You let out a laugh that is nowhere near polite, in fact, you’re nearly cackling at the prospect of this idea. It’s simply so outlandish, so fantastical that every time you look at his face it seems more unfathomable.
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JEON WONWOO
FOR THE BOOKS - @trblsvt
oneshot, fluff, teacher au, est relationship
wonwoo's students seemed intent on matching him up with a fellow teacher. he didn't really want to stop them, it was too funny for him to break up their fun. plus, he didn't mind the certain someone he was being "set up" with.
HOW TO FALL - @because-of-a-friend
oneshot, fluff, angst, idol au
"hi!! <3 i love ur acc and i was wondering if you'd be able to write an imagine where you're besties with joshua and he invites you to meet the rest of seventeen for the first time and you instantly fall for wonwoo? maybe some angst but overall fluff? thank you!! no rush!! i love your work!!!"
UNTITLED - @/97-liners
oneshot, fluff, royalty au, friends to lovers, childhood friends
"a royalty au where you’re the heir to the throne and wonwoo is your shy (and lowkey bumbling) royal advisor…. he’s smart and always has his head stuck in a book but he’s also painfully awkward and clueless to how deeply in love with him you are. until your parents decide it’s time for you to get married. and suddenly you’re inundated by suitor after suitor, and wonwoo is quizzing them on their credentials and doubting their suitability for you, this one makes brash political decisions, this one spends too freely, this one has no tact for diplomacy. until one day, you turn to him and ask, “you’ve hated every single one of them. who, then, do you think i should marry?” and wonwoo blushes red and presses his lips together."
SCANDAL, PT.2, PT.3, PT.4- @fantasyescapes17
series, angst, fluff, enemies to lovers, regency au
this is part of an extensive series that includes other members! you can check it out ⤳ here
The Viscount's sister with an enormous dowry, beauty and unmistakable talent- you began the London season as the most desired woman in any room. But Jeon Wonwoo (a man who would rather hide in the library than dance at a ball) is beyond your comprehension. Curiosity might have killed the cat, but it embroiled you into a scandal with a man you could never love.
MEET CUTE OF THE CENTURY - @lovelyhan
oneshot, fluff, angst, smut, idol au, strangers to lovers
the last thing you expected when you volunteered at your city’s local animal shelter is to meet the hottest cat person in the world. now if only he’d just adopt one of them so you’d stop ogling him every time he drops by.
MARRIAGE - @yikesmary
drabble, fluff, parent au, est relationship
where wonwoo’s nightmare is coming true.
BIRTHDAY SURPRISE - @/yikesmary
oneshot, fluff, parent au, est relationship
where you and nari try to make breakfast and a cake before wonwoo wakes up… if only your daughter knew what the word “surprise” meant.
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LEE JIHOON
GUITAR STRING - @leejungchans
oneshot, fluff, angst, royalty au
"“Take me away.” Jihoon’s elegant fingers, previously plucking at his guitar strings, freeze at your words. The soothing, lullaby-like chords he had been playing echo into the inky darkness, carried away by the chilly night breeze."
WE'LL BE OK - @atinykidult
drabble, angst, fluff, idol au, est relationship
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you” for hurt!Jihoon
LIVE - @wondernus
oneshot, fluff, idol au, est relationship
having just finished composing a song a few hours ago, jihoon starts a live on his phone to sing to those who are feeling a little lonely at night. little does he know, your sleeping figure could be seen in the corner of his little livestream, causing his fans to go crazy.
MWHA - @cheolism
oneshot, fluff, est relationship
three times you said "mwah" at the end of a kiss and one time jihoon said it back
IM DATING WOOZI - @jihoonotes
oneshot, fluff, smau, est relationship, idol au
y/n is in a public relationship w/ woozi of SVTZ and decides to make a twitter acc to support jihoon, but SVTZ fans seem to think they're delusional.
JIHOON'S PUPPY - @rubyreduji
oneshot, angst, fluff, college au
jihoon can’t seem to shake the puppy dog who keeps following him around or the teasing he gets for it
HEARTSTRINGS - @wavelikewhat
oneshot, fluff, strangers to lovers, idol au
You help Jihoon meet an unexpected deadline for a song and he wonders why he can’t stop thinking about you. Luckily his members nudge him toward the answer.
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LEE SEOKMIN
WARM ME UP ! - @ponkwan
drabble, fluff, est relationship
the one where you’re on your third date with seokmin.
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KIM MNGYU
HOT OR COLD? - @jjuniehao
oneshot, fluff, est relationship
when looking for something on his phone, you find an email you didn’t expect…
BOYFRIEND PHOTOS - @babyleostuff
oneshot, fluff, est relationship, idol au
a sunny date spent with your precious boyfriend
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XU MINGHAO
THE LETTER - @toruro
oneshot, fluff, angst, smut, brothers best friend, childhood friends to lovers, idol au
in which you’re jun's little sister and have been pining for a man so close yet so out of reach for ages. now, years later, when you see minghao all grown up, famous, and still making your heart flutter, you're not so sure what to do about your not-so-little crush.
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BOO SEUNGKWAN
A BEAUTIFUL LIFE - @sungbeam
oneshot, fluff, childhood friends, est relationship
Boo Seungkwan asked you to marry him beneath the shade of an orange tree.
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CHWE VERNON
ACCIDENTALLY IN LOVE - @suhnshinehaos
series, fluff, angst, childhood friends to lovers, arranged marriage, smau
the one where you get into an arranged marriage with your childhood best friend vernon, but neither of you seem to mind that much
UNTITLED - @/wqnwoos
drabble, fluff, est relationship, idol au
“vernon, we need to talk.”
OR, WOULD YOU RATHER IT BE ME? - @thepixelelf
oneshot, fluff, childhood friends to lovers, college au, soulmate au
A detested soulmark, a friendship over a decade in the making, and an unexpected proposal from one friend to another… what could possibly go wrong?
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LEE CHAN
SOME THINGS NEVER CHANGE - @/berriesandjunnie
oneshot, fluff, est relationship, parent au, idol au
no matter what stage in life you’re at, or after all these years, you can count on his hyungs to still treat him the same.
08:23 AM - @wheeboo
drabble, fluff, est relationship, idol au
in which chan is late to dance practice.
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want recs for other groups? check out my navigation → here!
3K notes · View notes
another-lost-mc · 1 year ago
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Angels at the Door SIMEON x gn!Reader (Established); MICHAEL x gn!Reader (Developing) 4.2k Words | NSFW | Smut | Dubious Behaviour & Sexual Tension Content Warnings: Alternating POV. Pining, (resolved) sexual tension, accidental and non-consensual voyeurism, exhibitionism, scenting/marking, possessiveness, corruption kink if you squint, threesome (sort of), masturbation, intercrural sex, oral sex, penetrative sex. Next: Angels' Commendation | Epilogue: A Demon's Curiosity
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When Simeon suggests to Michael that you should be given your own room in the Celestial Realm, he wholeheartedly agrees. You’ve spent many afternoons visiting your friends there, but you leave far too soon for everyone’s liking. Luke doesn’t try to hide his disappointment when he has to say goodbye to you only hours after your arrival. Simeon’s peaceful countenance turns bitter when he watches you pass through the Celestial gates, and Michael wishes he had more time to get to know you properly.
You move freely between the three realms now. You often stay in the Devildom for days, sometimes weeks at a time. It seems logical (and convenient) that the Celestial Realm offers you that same comfort.
Michael acknowledges your importance and gives you the empty guest chambers next to his own. It’s a lavish gesture, but he believes it’s fitting for someone of your importance. You’re the rare human that managed to instill hope for a peaceful future between the three realms. You charmed his fallen brothers in the Devildom and brought that menace of a sorcerer to heel. Michael can’t even express how much Luke has grown thanks to your influence, and Simeon seems to have found his path once more with your guidance. 
Michael furnishes the room himself and makes sure that it has anything you could possibly want. It has a private bathroom so you don’t have to share the communal showers with the other angels. He even has the wardrobe filled with garments fashioned in the style of the Celestial Realm and hopes you’ll choose to wear them. 
He makes these gestures of appreciation so you know you can consider the Celestial Realm another place to call home. He believes he’s honoring your efforts and helping to foster long-term friendships with the angels of his realm. After all, he wants nothing more than your happiness. He ignores the way his heart clenches when he sees you using the gifts he’s given you.
The day Michael catches you and Simeon being intimate together, the lies he tells himself about his purely platonic feelings for you start to crumble.
Many beautiful gardens grow in the Celestial Realm. Some are designated for vegetables and fruit trees while others are filled with the rare, colourful flowers that can only bloom in the realm of eternal light. Some of the gardens have paved pathways where angels can stroll at their leisure.
Michael’s garden is a small grove filled with wildflowers and willow trees. It’s near the back of the Celestial Halls where his chambers are, and very few angels bother to travel that far into the garden. It’s not officially his garden but sometimes when he takes a book there to read, or he simply leans against a tree to meditate, it feels like his own private space.
He heads to his garden one afternoon with a book tucked under his arm. You’ve been in the Celestial Realm for a few days and you seem to be adjusting well. Luke has been a near-constant presence by your side, and Simeon is usually not far behind. The other angels are warming up to you despite some of their initial concerns or suspicions about your loyalties. Michael reassures them that you should be considered a friend to angels, the same way the Devildom considers you a trusted friend to their prince and his fallen brothers.
It never occurred to Michael that you might be more than a friend to anyone in the Celestial Realm until he stumbles upon you and Simeon together. He ducks behind a tree and the faint sounds he hears on the wind don’t stop; neither of you seem to be aware of his presence. He tells himself he should leave as quickly as he can and pretend he didn’t see a thing. He’s not sure what invisible power keeps him paralyzed behind that tree, listening to your soft moans and sighs as Simeon’s lips and hands explore your body. You’re both laying underneath his favourite willow tree on a bed of flowers, and it seems so romantic—so why does he feel so much bitterness in his heart?
Is it because you lay with Simeon, one of the most slippery angels he’s ever known? Is it because Simeon’s hands push aside the soft, delicate clothes Michael gave you so he can touch the bare skin underneath? Is it because it’s Simeon’s name falling from your lips when his sinful fingers bring you so much pleasure you can’t silence your cries?
Simeon’s whispers and your delightful moans eventually fade on the wind and Michael panics. He worries that you’ll both walk this way and find him rooted in place behind a tree, sweat trickling down his brow and the front of his robes tented by his aching erection. He’s on the verge of prayer when luck looks favourably on him; Simeon leads you in the other direction that will take you both close to his room—and yours.
Minutes pass by and you must be inside the Celestial Halls by now—perhaps Simeon has stripped you down properly and laid you down on your bed, kneeling between your legs to touch you even more—but Michael can’t bring himself to move. His book lay on the ground at his feet where it slipped from his grasp. The sweat dotting his forehead and the back of his neck makes his skin feel tacky, but he doesn’t care. He tries to ignore the growing need buried deep inside him, and only when his cock softens—despite the way it still twitches when he thinks of you and the sounds you make, and your musky scent carried on a summer breeze—does he finally leave.
Michael avoids his room completely and hides in the restricted section of the Celestial Library, hoping the solace will soothe his troubled mind. He makes his excuses to Luke when the young angel sends him a message inquiring about his whereabouts. He skipped dinner feigning some lengthy task he had to take care of—he’s not hungry anyway. He has other insatiable appetites tonight.
He contemplates his predicament in the oldest part of the library where only the highest ranking angels are permitted to enter. He decides that his interest in you is simply a passing fancy. He tries not to ruminate about what drew you and Simeon together, or what he could’ve done to prevent it.
Looking through his memories of the past few days, he can see hints of the true nature of your relationship: the shy, subtle glances you shared, the way Simeon stood closer to you than socially appropriate, the way you said his name with more fondness than anyone else’s. He’s grateful for your discretion and blames poor luck that led him to the garden at that most inopportune time. He’s certain no one else would have found you there. He can’t fault either of you for that, no matter how much he might want to. 
It’s late when Michael finally leaves his tormented sanctuary and retires to his room for the night. The Celestial Halls are darker now so that the angels (and you) can sleep comfortably. Your bedroom door is closed when he walks past it to his own room. He shrugs off his robes with a tired sigh and nearly falls into bed. He’s exhausted, and he closes his eyes and thinks about embarking on new beginnings tomorrow.
He meditates so that he can unburden himself with torturous thoughts of you and accept your friendship with grace. He doesn’t want guilt to ruin what you’re building there, and if you’re truly content with—with someone that’s not him, he can accept it. He’s Michael, and he won’t be brought to his knees by something as insignificant as lust. He’s better than that. He’s—
A whimper on the other side of the wall reaches his ears, and his brittle resolve cracks. He’s already hard under the sheets, and when he concentrates, he can hear the noises you and Simeon are making: the shuffle of your bedsheets, the wet, squelching noise your bodies make together, the rhythmic creaking of your bed in time with his thrusts.
Michael feels possessed when he slides off the edge of his bed and walks over to the shared wall that connects his room to yours. He presses his ear to the cool surface and nearly groans deep in his chest when he can hear you even clearer this way. You moan Simeon’s name but it’s muffled, like you’re burying your face against his skin—or in the pillow, laying face-down while he fucks you from behind. Simeon pants your name too as his pace quickens, and the rocking noise your bed makes grows louder.
If it were anyone else but you, Michael thinks he could go back to bed and roll over and pretend he didn’t hear a thing. But he can’t, because it is you. He wraps his hand around his cock and starts stroking himself in time with your muffled whines and stuttered whimpers for more. His pace is fast and desperate, and he spreads his precum along his shaft to smooth the glide. He wishes he could be fucking you instead; your body would feel better than his hand ever could. 
He leans his arm against the wall and buries his face against it to smother his own noises. He bites his lip to stifle his moans and to prevent himself from uttering your name in desperation. He gasps from the white-hot pleasure coursing through his veins and he knows he’s close, but he slows his pace because he doesn’t want to come before you do.
When he finally hears your high-pitched moan followed by a loud cry, he pumps his cock and groans into his arm as his release covers his hand and the wall in front of him. He milks himself dry until it feels like he can’t breathe and he’s about to split open at the seams. He stumbles backwards and falls back on the bed, and he takes gulping breaths as his heart races. He’s hot and his skin is sweaty and his hands are covered in the proof of his sins.
The mattress next door creaks, and feet pad softly on the carpet. Someone runs the tap in your ensuite bathroom and Michael pictures Simeon washing you with reverence. You whisper quietly to each other but he can’t make out the words over the pounding of his heart.
Michael gets up to clean himself when he’s certain you’re both asleep and finished for the night. He remembers the streaks of cum on his wall he has to clean too. He washes away the evidence of his perversion and wonders how carnal temptation got the better of him.
Perhaps he should return you to the Devildom, or at least offer to give you a more comfortable room elsewhere. There are other rooms you can use that are far away from his, where he won’t be able to hear one of his angels touch you with his hands and fuck you with his cock.
When Michael finally goes to bed, he knows he’s too weak to send you away. While he waits for sleep to claim him, he wonders how long he’ll have to wait before he can listen to you again.
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Simeon suspects Michael’s affections for you from the very beginning. Even as an honoured guest of the Celestial Realm, you’re given more freedom and gifts than he expected. Simeon said nothing—he was too delighted by your presence at his side to be bothered by whatever Michael was up to.
You both agreed to be discreet about your relationship. Angels might not abstain from physical intimacy the way humans believe they do, but you were concerned that any negative attention from Michael might complicate things. Simeon agreed, if only to ease your troubled mind; Michael would learn the truth eventually, and he could do nothing about it when he did.
Simeon doesn’t expect Michael’s behaviour towards you to change so drastically the night he discovered you together. Simeon wasn’t sure if the muffled groan he heard through the wall was his imagination. It lasted for only a brief moment, and you didn’t hear the noise at all. It would’ve been easy for Simeon to forget it, if it wasn’t for the increasingly affectionate way Michael started to treat you after.
Michael started following you both like a shadow. He justified his presence, of course—offering to show you parts of the realm you haven’t visited yet, teaching you history not taught in the Devildom—things that he knew you enjoyed, and your enthusiasm encouraged him even more.
The kitchens start preparing human world dishes with your recommendations, and Michael brings daily gifts to your room: a plate of his favourite pastries, a tin of Celestial Realm tea, vases filled with the most gorgeous flowers. He invites you to have tea in his private garden after he sends Simeon on some mundane task to distract him.
There are times that Simeon’s desire for you can’t wait until the nightfall to be sated, and you sneak private moments of intimacy together. Michael’s gaze lingers on your kiss-swollen lips when he conveniently finds you both shortly after. Sometimes he sniffs and pretends to have a runny nose while you search your pockets and hand him a tissue. Michael smiles at your thoughtfulness but Simeon knows he’s smiling because he caught the scent of your arousal in the air; it pleases Michael’s senses as much as it does Simeon’s.
When you make love in your room at night, Simeon knows Michael is listening. He has the same enhanced senses that Michael does; if Michael can hear you, then Simeon can hear him. To Michael’s credit, he tries to be quiet—and he’s more successful than that first night—but there’s only so much you can do to hide the sound of noisy bed springs and choked-off groans.
Simeon isn’t sure he can convince you to spend nights in his smaller, less comfortable room. He thinks about saying something to Michael on your behalf since it’s your privacy he’s concerned about; he hardly cares what Michael thinks of him now. But based on the way you react to the archangel’s presence, Simeon wonders how bothered you’d really be if you knew what he’s been doing.
Simon notices that your cheeks flush from Michael’s praise and attention. He also knows your heartbeat stutters when Michael dares to step a bit too close to you. The rare occasions when Michael has touched you—a hand on your shoulder or your back to guide you, a simple embrace, even—your body trembled with excitement long after Michael walked away.
Simeon remembers the way you stared at Michael’s bare chest one afternoon when you both saw him on the training grounds. The angels often tease Michael for growing soft due to his love of sweets, but his broad shoulders and chest still flex impressively when he wields his weapon. His movements are slow and calculated, and his blows are decisive and deadly.
You told Simeon after that he reminded you of Beel: he was a gentle giant, a hulking defender equally capable of great strength and kindness. Unfortunately for Beel, you never spared him a second or third glance the way you do for Michael.
Simeon muses that there must be something special about angels in particular that appeals to your most carnal desires. None of the demons in the Devildom seemed to interest you. Even his fallen brothers tried to seduce you and secure your affection for themselves, but none of them succeeded.
He’s curious what draws you to Michael: is it his skin that glistens when it’s covered in a sheen of sweat? Is it the way his long hair and broad chest draw your attention to him when he enters a room? Or perhaps it’s his eyes, haunted by years of painful memories and impossible choices that seem to brighten when he sees you, but darken with lust the longer he stares at you?
You’ve always been brave for a human. It’s not surprising that you would fall for wolves in sheep’s clothing.
Simeon wants to see how far he can push both of you in this little game you’re playing. He pulls you into a quiet part of the library and gropes your chest as he fucks his cock between the soft, warm gap of your thighs, but he leaves you a little messy afterwards. Your tacky thighs make a soft shlicking noise when you walk.
He leads you towards your bedroom so he can help you wash—after he fucks you properly—but Michael finds both of you first. He smiles warmly when he greets you, and his voice is like a deep, rumbling purr. He leans forward to pluck a loose thread from your tunic, and he scents you when his nose is closest to your skin. You don’t seem to mind Michael’s intrusion on your personal space, and Michael doesn’t seem to care that Simeon watches you both.
No matter what Michael might do or say, Simeon knows without a doubt that your heart is his and his alone. You’ve been through too much together, and his destiny is now tied to your own. However, he’s not entirely opposed to seeing where this path will lead if you desire it.
When Simeon takes you to bed that night, he feels particularly ravenous for you. He braces himself on his hands and knees above you so he can claim your lips in a hungry, filthy kiss. He licks into your mouth and detects a hint of tonight’s dessert on your tongue—a sweet vanilla cake, one of Michael’s favourites—and growls while he kisses you until the taste is gone. 
Simeon is worshipful as he slowly moves down your body. His lips graze your jaw and his teeth scrape the sensitive skin at the hollow of your throat. His hands glide over your chest as his lips leave a fiery trail over the heaving slope of your ribs and the soft skin of your belly. When you arch your back in quiet demand for more, he rewards your patience by tweaking your nipples. He pushes your thighs apart and makes himself comfortable between your legs. There’s a small bottle of lube hidden amongst your sheets. He reaches for it and asks you what you want.
“I want your fingers,” you whimper, and you wiggle your hips impatiently.
Simeon hears a sharp intake of breath on the other side of the wall, and he hides his smirk in the meat of your thigh as he peppers your ticklish skin with barely-there kisses. The first sensation of his fingers tracing along your arousal leaves you gasping and clenching your sheets. He lowers his head and mouths at your sensitive skin as he slips a finger inside you.
You roll your hips and encourage him to touch you more, to fuck you deeper with the finger that’s preparing your body for his cock. You never hide your lust for him, and like all the times before, it sends heat rushing through him and makes his cock ache. He ruts against the mattress to try and find some relief, but nothing can compare to your velvety walls sucking him inside you. 
He hears the soft, wet sounds of Michael touching himself on the other side of the wall, and it adds another sinful layer to the melody of breathy moans that escape your lips.
“Ahh–!” your voice trembles as you moan loudly when a second finger stretches you even more.
Simeon hushes you and he crooks his fingers inside you. “Be careful, my love. You don’t want Michael to hear, do you?” he murmurs. He doesn’t mean to ask that question out loud, but your reaction is so visceral that he doesn’t regret it either.
Your whole body jolts as if you’ve been shocked, and you groan deep in your chest like you’re having some sort of revelation. Your body clenches around Simeon’s fingers and he feels delightfully wicked as he basks in your depravity.
“Or perhaps you want him to hear us?” he teases you. Your eyes are clenched shut and you’re shaking your head back and forth against the pillow, but he knows you’re only afraid to admit the truth. He thrusts his fingers deeper inside you so he can brush against that sensitive spot inside that finally sets your hidden desires free.
“Y-yes–!” you cry out as you try desperately to fuck yourself on his fingers. No matter how deep or how fast he moves, it’s not enough—it’s never enough.
There’s a soft thump on the wall—like someone smacked it with their palm, or their fist—and Simeon suddenly withdraws his hand from your body and kneels between your legs. He adds more lube to his palm and pumps his cock until it’s slick. He presses the tip against you while he grabs your hips to hold you steady.
You hook your legs around his waist, but you look at him in confusion when he doesn’t move. You can feel the pressure of his cock pressing against your entrance. There’s something feral in his gaze, a dark hunger and possessiveness better suited to creatures of the Devildom more than any angel. His overwhelming need makes you tremble, but he doesn’t scare you.
You place one of your hands overtop of his and squeeze. “Please,” you whimper pathetically, because you feel so empty without him inside you and he knows it.
He clenches his jaw and utters a deep groan as he slowly sheathes himself inside you. He looks down and watches your body stretch obscenely around his cock.
Don’t hold back for me now, he thinks.
“Don’t hold back for us now,” he grits out, pulling back until the fat tip of his cock is all that’s left inside you. “Let him hear you,” he snarls when he snaps his hips forward and pulls your body down onto his cock to meet his thrust. The overwhelming sense of fullness leaves you breathless, and he begins fucking you with single-minded determination.
Simeon’s pace is faster and rougher than how he usually fucks you, but the intensity makes it so much better, and you can’t be quiet now even if you tried. There’s no chance that Michael can��t hear what you’re doing, not when Simeon growls at you to take his cock and feel how hard he is for you. You’re gasping for breath between moans and cries of Simeon’s name, and the headboard bangs against the wall in time with his thrusts. 
The heat of your impending release burns deep inside you and you know neither of you will last much longer. Despite the loud noises you and Simeon make, you think you can hear a third voice from somewhere close by—deep grunts and curses and choked moans that sound suspiciously like your name.
Is that—?
You glance over at the wall that separates your room from Michael’s, and when you look back at Simeon, his burning gaze stares into yours. He leans over you and reaches his hand between your bodies. His fingers are electric as he strokes at your slick, sensitized skin that coaxes you even closer to your release. You can almost taste it, it’s so close.
“Let him hear you,” he whispers, repeating his command from earlier. You could’ve ignored it the first time as something dirty he said in the heat of the moment, but you can’t deny it now. His hand and cock move so purposefully to drive you over the edge like he wants you to scream for him—for both of them. He moves his hand faster between your legs and you close your eyes and arch your back so your chest presses against his.
“Please, right there, fuck I’m gonna—mmm—!” your moan breaks off into a high-pitched cry when you come, and Simeon’s own brutal pace starts to falter when your walls clench around his cock. He tries to keep going but he can’t hold off his own pleasure any longer. He grunts as his hips stutter, and his rhythm is slow and sloppy while he finishes pumping his cum deep inside you.
You think you hear a muffled shout through the wall, but you’re not sure if it’s your imagination or wishful thinking.
Simeon’s panting breaths are laced with tired, contented sighs. He huffs in amusement when a bead of sweat trickles down his brow and over the tip of his nose. His skin is as hot and clammy as yours is, and you brush the sweat off his face and wipe your hand on the bed sheets.
Simeon braces himself on his forearm so he can lean down and brush a kiss against your cheek. You both stare into each other’s eyes and you know he sees the same things you do: satisfaction, an undercurrent of lust that always exists between you, and uncertainty. It feels like something monumental happened tonight between the two of you in this room and Michael in his. Your throat feels hoarse, and you’re not sure how to ask the question burning in your mind.
Someone knocks on the bedroom door, and you realize you might not have to ask at all. Simeon glances over his shoulder quickly, but you both know who it is. When he peers down at you again, you know the silent question he’s asking you: Do you want to let him in? 
Simeon’s lips curl into a smirk when you nod your head, yes.
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sincericida · 8 months ago
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Do you have any favorite Peter smut fics to recommend? I'm in need something spicy! I'll take anything you can think of!
Dear, if you want to turn up your temperature with some of the smut fics I’ve read recently, here are a few:
So, So Mean, by @lovelettersforthedamned
Smitten, Peter's Angel, The Ruler and The Killer, Peter and a Cam Girl, Enraptured, Doing so Well, Not so Innocent, The Goddess, In The Dark, Cheating With Peter, Phone Sex, and my favorite ever Back to Basics, by @blooming-violets
Love on the Brain: Sugar & Vice, vol 2, Sugar and Vice, Sweet Dreams, These Violet Delights, by @liz-allyn
Bondage, Mattress Acting, by @reysdriver
August Slipped Away by @peterthepark
Symbiote mini series by @mrshipsmcgee
Florence series by @periprose
Dulcet by @jamespottersdaisy
Quiet Temptations by @parkerpeter24
Sparks Fly by @mortwig
Jawbreaker by @witchywcmans
The Angel In The Garden of Evil series, In Your Boss’s Office, Professor Peter Parker by @backtothefanfiction
'Til Kingdom Come by @pedrito-friskito
Masterlist of @withahappyrefrain
This fic of @deviouz
Going to The Edge of Heaven by @multifandomworldsposts
Another Love series by @abibliophobiaa
Too Close For Comfort by @lovelettersforthedamned
Thick and Thin by @ficthots
Daddy Issues seeries by @venus616
I’m Holding my Breath for You by @lxinesux
There must be others I’ve read, but I’ve read so much fanfic… You must find more things in this tag [peter parker fanfic] that I usually put in the fics I reblogged.
Thank you to all the writers on Tumblr!
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inthelibrarybtw · 7 days ago
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you're gonna go far | one - the boneyard
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SERIES MASTERLIST pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!reader
summary: where rafe who hates pogues has a soft spot for a pogue girl, who couldn't care less about him, it's too independent and too focused on graduating college and making it out of the cut to pay attention to him or where they say they don't like each other yet for a reason they are always at the same place at the same time, him making time for her and her never pushing away but again they don't like each other. word count: 3.1k content: rafe being an asshole, angst, cursing, pogue/kook talk, inaccurate weather facts lol authors note: this is my first official fic and series, please be kind english is my second language so excuse any grammar errors. not only am i excited but im also nervous this is the first time im letting people read anything i've ever written, i really hope you guys like it. reblogs, comments and like are always appreciated ❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。• *₊°。 ❀°。
He made his way to the Boneyard once again. Ever since Sarah had started dating John B he heard a lot more about these parties, he loved to party and he was not going to miss one. Also he needed to keep an eye on his sister, sister who he never really saw at the parties unless there was a fight. That was the only reason that made sense and he was trying to convince himself it was the only one.
But the real reason made him lose his mind, he doesn’t get it, Rafe used to hate all pogues, but that one party Sarah invited her and her pogue friends and he almost lost it when she saw her, he had never seen her before and after that he never stopped looking for her and at her, usually she was mad at him for annoying her friends and he got pissed at her for calling him on his shit and didn’t want anything to do with him. Yet he wanted to know her. 
So there he was again at another Boneyard party, he wasn’t really in the mood but anything to see you. He really doesn’t get it, as much as he wants to hate you and despise you, he can't and that’s how he ended up going back to his car to grab his jacket and making his way to you. The party was in full blast but you had needed a break so you were sitting alone on a blanket over the sand looking at the ocean, hugging yourself. For a mid June night it was cold, too cold, probably a storm or a hurricane was coming soon. 
As if it was heaven sent a puffy jacket wrapped you up “you’ll get sick” you looked up to be met with Rafe’s stoic face as if what he just did was nothing “it’s freezing” he said sitting next to you. 
“I'm gonna be fine” you said, as much as you would want to take the jacket your pride was bigger so you started taking it off to give it back but he stopped you by putting it back. 
He scoffs before answering “right, like you’re not trembling, just take it” you didn’t hesitate, it felt good but you weren’t going to admit it to his face.
“What about you?” you turned to look at him, he didn’t look cold but still.
“I’m fine, you need it more than me” his eyes darted over at your body, a weird feeling forming in his stomach at seeing you with something of his enveloping. 
“what’s that supposed to mean?” you looked at him, putting your arms in the jacket, it looked like his jacket had swallowed you up and he smirked at the sight.
 “Nothing, just you were shaking and I’m not” he rolled his eyes
“Right…” Rafe being nice to you wasn’t new but you were still a bit on edge being around him “Thanks” you said softly, as you looked around, everyone was enjoying the party, it was one of those moments where you would think why were you there, you could be doing anything else. You were already thinking about going back to college, community college wasn’t the plan but you were more than grateful for getting a scholarship, as much as community college wasn’t that expensive for a pogue it was a lot. 
Rafe interrupted your thoughts when he cleared his throat “You’re not going to go back to everyone?” as much as he had attempted to make it sound as a question it sounded more like a demand and order even. 
“Not right now, why?” you turned to look at him, with a confused look. You wanted to go home but if you didn’t stick around a while longer your friends would ask and you liked to avoid the questions. 
“I don't think they want to hang out with a pogue” of course he would say something like that, he was an asshole and yet you didn’t go away. You rolled your eyes. 
“Well you are hanging out with said pogue” touché he thought 
“Well I'm different” he said as if it was the most obvious answer ever
You scrunched up your face “oh and why’s that?” Rafe was the perfect example of why you hated pogues, they thought they were better than everyone, maybe not everyone but most of them were like him, he was so infuriating and you wanted to scream at him sometimes and you had done it but everytime that feeling would be different. 
“Because I’m me and I can do whatever I want” this man you thought, you just hummed in annoyance, he was so unbelievable. “Just do go near them” he had to be joking 
“I will if I want to” he turned his head quickly as if you had said the worst thing ever, Rafe had a thing of struggling to show his true feelings and of course he would rather choke than admit he wanted you to stay there with him talking, he wanted to get to know you but he was clearly terrible at showing it.  
“Does it look like I care? just don’t go, got it?” you were stoic, how the hell were you supposed to react to that. “Rafe…” “Don’t Rafe me, I don’t want you to be near them” them who? And why the hell did he care what you did or not. 
“I’m not yours to control, I don’t even listen to my mother, what makes you think I will listen to you?” his face contorted in annoyance, sassy pogue he thought before speaking.
“I’m just trying to look out for you pogue” the way he said pogue with such disdain, you knew he hated pogues, you hated him albeit you were there still sitting with his jacket over your shoulders but you hated him.
“You hate pogues” she can’t let one go he huffs almost as if it's amusing to see you mad  
“Usually i do, all of them are annoying, but…” he pauses for a second thinking as if it’s a good idea to continue talking “you just… you’re different” 
“Whatever that means” was that a good thing? who knew it was Rafe Cameron after all.
“It means you don’t piss me off as much as the rest and I don’t want to see you getting hurt or dragged into something in between the pogues or kooks” he paused then continued “why are you even friends with them?” 
not see me get hurt? most of the times before you had been the one yelling at him or his friends to back away but in that moment you rather not fight with him about it “they just get me, we grew up together” 
“How on earth can they get you, they are them and you’re…” he trailed off “I just don’t get how you can just hang out with them” his irritation was growing, you noticed but you didn’t care.
“You have no right to talk about them when you’re the one who doesn’t get it!” you huff
“What I don't get huh? that you love hanging around them in the Cut” you sighed, stupid kook
“I'm Pogue! The Cut is my home” and you would do anything to change that, Pope was the only one who knew how much you hated living there… “That's my life!” 
“That's what I don’t get, you’re better than that! that’s a hellhole” as much as you don't like it there, it was still your home and you could call it a hellhole, you lived there, he had barely set foot in it, so what would he know? he didn’t have the right  “living there doesn’t mean you have to hang out with them” 
“They are my friends, they truly get it, they know how hard life can be and unfair it can get” his chest feels tight all of a sudden he doesn't get it, he never feels like that. He studies your face trying to think what he can say next. 
“You could do better, find new friends, kooks, pogues will keep dragging you down” You stare at him looking for a trace of it being a joke and he is being serious, you laugh bitterly. 
“Why would I want to be with the kooks? they look down at us as if we're trash, we're people!” Rafe goes silent, his jaw clenching annoyed, he knew he treated your friends like that most of the time and he hated that you were right about it. 
“I don’t think you're trash” he groans in frustration “What aren’t you getting pogue? they are assholes, you don’t deserve being around assholes who pull you back” 
“You're not understanding kook, they are my friends, my family even, they are important to me, I care for them, we stick by each other and we actually push each other to do things better because we want out, we do not want to stay in The Cut forever” You didn’t, a part of you knew that JJ and John B didn’t really care, yes they wanted better but that didn’t necessarily mean get out of the Cut. Then there was Kie who was born a kook and liked more the pogue life? A part of you was angry at Kie, she had the privileges you would kill for and she took them all for granted, you loved her but still it made you frustrated. 
He scoffs, he hates the tone you’re going for, yes it’s the same he’s giving you but he doesn’t like it when it’s aimed at him and coming from you. If it had been by any chance any other pogue he would’ve either fought them or ignored them but it was you… “Oh and how are you supposed to do that? work your ass off for minimum wage? Pogues don’t make it out that easily” 
“And you think I'm not aware? still doesn’t mean I can’t make it” You were trying to keep your calm, he was getting on your nerves, you had heard that a thousand times but coming from him right there felt somehow even worse, not even a few minutes ago he had given you his jacket, that had been nice but apparently he was allergic to it and had to go back to his usual asshole self. 
“Then why even try? The Cut is like a black hole that swallows people and you can never escape” You had enough, he had the nerve to say all that when his own father came from the Cut and made it out. You didn’t really like Ward Cameron, granted not a lot of people did but you did have to give him that, he made it out and he wasn’t the best person but he was all the proof you needed to know you could too. 
“Because it is not impossible, your dad did” you saw him tense up at the mention of his father, well know you knew how to piss him off. You regretted using a clearly sensitive topic for him but he deserved it you tried to convince yourself. You didn’t really like confrontation but with him every word flew out of your mouth without hesitancy it made you feel good, like you were brave enough and in the eyes of a lot of people you were, it was Rafe Cameron who you would stand up against and he could be an asshole but at the same time respected that you would run your mouth at him even if it made you a pain in his ass from time to time. 
“My dad was different, it was a rare thing, like winning the lottery you know?” you muttered a small right looking at the sand, of course he was going to be an asshole about it. He saw your reaction and felt like he needed to comfort you. “What I’m saying is…” he didn’t really know if he was going to say the right thing, he sucked at comforting people “you’re gonna have a hard time getting out of there, maybe you’re gonna be better… like better off staying there, just accepting the reality” 
You looked at him, if you could strangle him with a look you would’ve done it, you scoff biting the inside of your cheek “You know what Rafe, fuck you, you don’t get it!” You stand up and take his jacket off and throw it at him before walking away. 
“Hey! Wait, where are you going?” he stands up calling you out, grabbing his jacket but you’re already walking as fast as you could to get away from him “ugh this girl…” he sighed, you annoyed him so much yet he felt bad, the look on your face before leaving, the words it had affected him more than he liked to admit. And watching you go directly to JJ after it just made it worse. You had heard him but you ignored him, what had made him think that any of what he said was okay? 
When you finally made your way back to your friends you regretted throwing him his jacket back, you were cold again. “Ah she 's back! where were you?” JJ piped in first as he watched you sitting near the bonfire. 
Just like Rafe you would rather choke than admit you liked talking to him and that’s where you were “Just taking a break from all this” you nodded hugging yourself, and if i go back? just for the jacket… 
“You’re cold? there’s a hoodie on the Twinkie you can grab it” JJ said as he walked to grab another beer, you nodded and decided to go grab it, maybe even stay in the twinkie. You made your way to where the Twinkie was parked. 
Rafe didn’t leave the party even after the little fight, he was keeping an eye on you from a distance, he did that way more than he liked to admit. He decided to follow you to wherever you were going. You were about to close the Twinkie with the hoodie on hand when Rafe showed up “You know you can always have this back” he lifted his hand where he had his jacket. You rolled your eyes while you put on the less warm hoodie. 
I huffed, closing the door of the Twinkie  “I don’t need or want your help, maybe you should too accept that reality” you said bitterly making reference to what he had said to you earlier. 
He rolled his eyes, he felt guilty for saying what he said but it was done and was trying to make it better without even saying sorry “You don’t let one go huh?” 
“You’re an asshole with me and then you want me to be okay with it? things don’t work that way, at least acknowledge that what you said was wrong” you crossed your arms, staring at him. He knew he was wrong, he felt bad about it but he wasn’t going to apologize or acknowledge it because every word you said spiked up his irritation in a way only you could. 
“If being wrong is stating facts then yeah im wrong” you groaned in frustration, again why did you even indulge him? It was like you were being pulled to him, as much as you knew you could just don’t talk back you never kept quiet with him, it was physically impossible.
“You’re an asshole, you come here saying stuff when you don’t even have a clue what it is to live in a place you hate but it’s still your home” he felt a sudden anger bubbling up, oh he knew about hating the place where he lived a little too much for his liking but you weren’t done talking “you’re so infuriating first you say I'm too much for the pogues, newsflash I’m one! that they hold me down but then when I tell you I want to do better you’re telling me I should give up?” you groaned in frustration and ran your hands through your hair. 
He stared at you, you looked pretty all angry at him, he shook his head, focusing back on his irritation “you’re done with your tantrum?” He knew that was just gonna make you even more mad and maybe he wanted to see how far he could take it, as much as he was different with you, he still was Rafe. The cocky kook asshole who thought everyone should listen to his words. You clenched your jaw from the annoyance. 
“What you didn’t like what I said? sorry I was just stating facts” you lifted a brow testing him back, you weren’t afraid of him, your friends had told you in multiple times to be careful that you didn’t know who you were messing with, but nothing ever happened to you beside the same old pogue comments and you were used to them they did hurt sometimes but nothing worth crying over it. It just fueled you to prove to everyone or him you could do the things he never thought you would. 
“Do you ever know when to shut up?” he huffed and you felt a pang of hurt in your chest. Out of all he had said this is what ends up actually hurting you? You swallowed and looked up at him “oh you do know when to shut up” he smirked, his stupid smug face, why did he have to be like that? 
“Do you ever know when to stop?” you pushed past him, you knew why this had hurt more than the rest of the things but you chose to ignore it, you could deal with that later or never. You turned around to walk back to where the rest of the people were. 
“Wait!” he yanked you back “you don’t get to tell me what to do” you looked at him frustrated, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath to try and calm yourself down but it was useless. 
“Neither do you!” I pulled my arm from his grasp “never touch me again, I don’t want to see you around, stick to the words you have said to my friends a thousand times, stay on your side of the island kook!” you had used the word with the same distaste he used the word pogue, you were done, he had made you feel horrible twice and you allowed it. You stormed off and this time he didn’t stop you, the words kept ringing in his head until Topper called him out. They were ready to leave and at the same time you convinced JJ to take you back to your house, Rafe looked from a distance, anger bubbling up inside him but there was nothing he could do about it. 
He left the party not long after you did, parts of the conversation replaying in his head.
❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。• *₊°。 ❀°。
taglist: @starkeyvhs @oxpogues4lifexo @persiar9 @lenasvoid @zyafics if you want to be added send an ask or comment! :)
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ
INTHELIBRARYBTW ✧.*
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sugawhaaa · 4 months ago
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💄ateez smut headcanons💄
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🌸💫how they sound in bed💫🌸
A/N:: I'm not gonna say this everytime but I just wanna say this is for shits and giggles don't take it seriously and these are just my opinions 👍 anywho this series is ermmm moving fast...
Ateez h/c masterlist:: here
Hongjoong
I think Hongjoong is very two-sided during intimate hours. He's either fucking the lights of you or he's crying beneath you there is no in-between. When being dom Hongjoong would mainly make hissing sounds, seething through his teeth. When getting more intense he'd make little grunts and groans but that's just an occasional thing. He's also a huge dirty talker, like huge. He'll make you scream all kinds of humiliating things just to cum.
When submissive he's so noisy ugh he can't stay quiet. Studio sex is common for him but he cannot stay quiet at all, just moaning and moaning. I feel like Hongjoong moves his head a lot when being dommed. If you're sucking him off he'll look down and watch for a while before throwing his head back and moaning before repeating. He whimpers a lot too with little sniffles in between.
Seonghwa
He has a bit less duality when it comes to sub and dom, it's more rough or lazy. He's definitely the type of guy who makes your bed creak and inch up as he ruts into you. He's generally pretty quiet when going rough but when he does make noise it's usually moans and soft grunts. Other than that it's all dirty words coming from him.
During lazy sex, he'd often like you to ride him. He can just lay back and watch his sexy girl ride him. He's a bit more submissive in this state. His moans more pathetic and his hips reflexively bucking up but generally still the same. I feel like the only thing that's different is he might let out low little chuckles when watching you. Idk he's just that typa man. It's the facial expressions you have to watch for with this man because he may not be making any sounds but his mouth is hung open in a perfect 0 shape and his eyebrows are curled up toward each other.
Yunho
Soft continous whimpers and moans. He's just constant with his moans. They will increase in tempo and in pitch as he gets closer and closer to the edge. This applies no matter what. If he's on top, bottom, side to side, it doesn't matter. Flip him upside down and he still can't stop moaning. His voice will be hoarse the next morning but he sounds hot as fuck so win-win.
Yeosang
Very similar to Hongjoong except more pathetic when on bottom 💀 he may have a deep voice that sounds like heaven to the ears when whispering all of his dirty little fantasies but trust me he's a whore. Whimpering, crying, begging, shaking. His voice goes from sounding like it's from the deepest depths of hell to being a little baby. His voice cracks a lot and he takes big gasps of air. He always swallows really hard, like you can hear it.
When on top its pretty simple. Just little moans and grunts. Grunts especially with deep thrusts.
San
Lazy sex enthusiast. I think San is generally pretty quiet but he definitely whimpers a lot. They're soft almost little squeaks for mercy >.< also, the type of guy to gasp for air and seeth through his teeth whether he's on top or not. When he moans it is pretty consistent but it's only near his peak that he starts to moan but it's non-stop until he cums. Sans real pleasure doesn't get expressed through his sounds as much as it does his body. Shaking, jerking, squirming, his body completely moves without his control.
Mingi
Biggest duality in the entire group. When he's submissive though, it's pathetic. He will scream and yell if he has to. His whimpers are constant and loud as well as a mixture of everything else. Sobs, whimpers, huffs, gasps for air, teeth seething, you get the vision. He also drools a lot when he's being edged 🤭 when Mingi is getting pegged or any other type of forcibly submissive treatment he loves to bury his face in a pillow.
When dominant he's a little crazy...he hardly gives himself time to moan with all the dirty words he groans out. That's when his low voice really becomes handy. He'll also let out little growls and grunts when on top. Generally speaking, he's more of a dirty word dom as apposed to a dirty sounds dom.
Wooyoung
Wooyoung is very much a soft pouty moaning guy. I really don't know how to describe wooyoungs moans. Soft little gasps, whimpers, and very breathy moans. If you were in any position where his mouth could be close to your ear oh lord it would feel like heaven. If he had you bent over or on all fours he'd lean in moaning in your ear as his breath trails down your neck. I think of Wooyoung as a passionate sex guy. He really wants to cherish every single millisecond of your body in/around his so most of his sounds are just by instinct and he's not really thinking about them so sometimes he gets really loud and intense out of nowhere>.<
Jongho
He's very double-sided as well but in a different way. For him, it depends on the day. You could ride him, do doggy style, or missionary but the thing that changes for him is whether or not he's in a submissive mood. One day you could ride him and he's whimper and gasping for air, grabbing your hips until his nails pierce your skin but the next day you ride him he's groaning, talking dirty, and forcing your hips to move in a certain way 🥴
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svtcrus · 4 months ago
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───── `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃 BABY LOVE ME EVENT SERIES
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FORBIDDEN ; WRIOTHESLEY X AFAB!Reader
warning : office sex, slight degradation, ass slapping, not proofread (i apologize, i tried getting this done as fast as i could), just smutty so MDNI
synopsis : you and his grace have formed quite the bond. a bond that isn't quite typical between a boss and his secretary.
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who would've thought, you're caught up in the handcuffs of the warden, the duke himself. you were–trying at least–playing a joke on him, to liven up the gloominess that's sought all over the fortress.
such a harmless joke really. yet wriothesley himself decided to take this joke into his own hands and twist it all around.
you had simply just wanted to tease him a slight, you wanted to see how much of a rise you could get out of him despite your willful obedience.
so you took it upon yourself to wear a flaring skirt instead of the your usual skin tight leggings–which wriothesley has secretly grown to adore– it was quite humid and hot in the fortress anyways. perhaps you would talk to him about the fortress's air conditioning.
"your grace, the fortress feels quite warm today doesn't it? the temperature felt quite different that-"
the duke in question had raised his head, eyes widening at your change of look. your half assed explanation is slowly fading in his head, for those dark eyes of his began to trace every curve of your body.
archons. he shouldn't. this is clearly forbidden. you're his secretary, and he's your boss, the duke. this is so... wrong?
having formed quite the formidable friendship with the duke was something inevitable. he had recently thought of having an aide to assist him on more serious matters, especially after the incident with the primordial water.
so now here you were, 6 months into the job and having formed quite a tight knit bond with his grace. however today, didn't seem to be quite gracefu and instead lustful to your situation.
"you're quite the slut aren't you?" large calloused hands are rubbing against your sides, said duke has you stuck on his lap. skirt pulled up revealing your behind for everyone to see if they were to walk in.
"acting all innocent, when really you're the most guiltiest person out there. and in front of me?... how bold." plump ass on his growing bulge is all for him to see. black lace panties too? gosh, he feels like the luckiest man alive.
such a view causes his breath to hitch with bitten lips, meanwhile you sat atop of him. your hands holding up your skirt as your cheeks burn red. his own are feeling you up... until you were squeaking with a whine. his palm hits you out of reality, and you can't help but to hold yourself up on the edge of his death.
this reaction he gets from you has him blooming with pride. only he can make you this way. only he should be the one to have you twist and bend the rules that one should oh so be obediently obeying.
"sweetheart, do you really want to do this?" pulling you back onto his chest, holding by your waist. a man so cold has never felt ever more warmer against you.
he's whispering into your ear, and now both your hot breaths that speak of anticipation can be heard more clearly between the two of you. god, you want him so badly
"m'please wrio... I've never wanted something as bad as this... please." and that's all he needed before he's pounding into you on his big desk. quills and pens thrown, all scattered around indicating the feverent lust that is happening in his very office. anyone could come in at any moment. heavens even poor sigewinne could witness the absolute debauchery you were both comitting. yet at the same time such rational thoughts have been clouded by your irrational need for wriothesley.
"m'fuck..! wrio—! too much!" you're gripping aimlessely at something, anything, to pace yourself with wriothesleys pounding rhythm. he's addicted, fully hooked on you. the way your walls squeeze around him and how beautiful moans you let out as he enters you, the sound of skin against skin echoing in his office. he's completely high off of you.
"hold it sweetie, because I'm not done with you yet— fuck!" wrio is bending down, placing needy kisses along your nape and shoulders. his grip on your waist is tighter, your cries and pleas only getting louder. the thought of being quiet completely out the door.
"mm– wrio i'm gonna–!" your head is practically digging into the table, wriothesleys pace seems to only have gotten more forceful. you can feel the knot tying inside, and with one more thrust you cry from the euphoria of your release.
scarred, muscular arms wrap around your body tightly. the deep grunt from wrio vibrates against your back. you both stay like this for a few moments, the sound of your hot panting being the only sound in the room.
yet before you could even exhale one more time, you're flipped around so that your now eye to eye with the duke. and his gaze has only gotten darker.
"your grac-?" before you can even protest, it's replaced with another moan. you're biting your lip again, and your hands instinctively wrap themselves around him.
"i told you sweetheart. i'm not done with you."
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@svtcrus || 07.11.24 ; baby love me event
©️ all rights reserved. do not copy , repost , alter , plagiarize my work.
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hwajin · 1 year ago
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★༉‧₊˚✧ — 𝖜𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗
𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 004. — 𝐇𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍 | 𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧
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𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: smut, hints of angst
𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌: siren!hyunjin x fem!reader
𝖘𝖞𝖓𝖔𝖕𝖘𝖎𝖘: initially, he played with you. manipulated you into his trance because it was his calling, hypnotizing you to fall under his mercy — he never expected you to do the same to him, to be intoxicating, to be utterly addicting.
𝖜𝖈: 2.9k
𝖈𝖜: oral (f receiving), fingering, edging, piv, unprotected sex, cumming inside, slight dacryphilia, hints of unrequited love, hints of manipulation (since hyunjin's a siren-)
— series masterlist
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His fingers on your skin cold, wet, enticing. His pale lips made their journey against your body, kissing and leaving moist patches on moister skin, giving a bite or two, simply to hear you whine, to feel you squirm beneath his touch. You never wanted to miss it, his touch, always urged for more when he was on the brink to pull away.
You met Hyunjin by the lake, as always from the very moment you had first encountered him – a picknick by yourself, a book on your legs and the sun in your face, and he had stood before you. Had sung a melody so pretty you’d been under his mercy momentarily; and ever since you’d been addicted. Hyunjin needn’t to sing to lure you in anymore, needn’t to use his voice on you to make you want him; you started coming to the lake voluntarily, always waiting for him to show up again, always eager. Maybe his voice had put on a permanent effect on you, a long-term spell. Maybe your longing for the man was illusionary, created by him simply to toy with you – to have his fun before he vanished again, because he never stayed. The very moment he left you and him satisfied he was gone in the blink of an eye, before you’ve had the chance to come to your senses. He slipped away from under your touch as quickly as he emerged, as though not real at all, as though a produce of your imagination.
Hyunjin’s teeth grazed your skin, not leaving a spot of yours untouched, not tended to. You were laying on wettened grass, green and fresh beneath you, paying little mind to the way it soaked you, the way it made you shiver in your place. You’d started to care far less about your clothes or hair soaking whenever with him, started to be reminded of him when in contact with water, in its simplest form – drinking a glass you imagined his wet lips on your own, taking a shower you felt his body all over yours, his hands on your hips and his chest atop yours. It was pathetic almost, reeked of hopeless desperation; and then you kept coming to the lake, kept coming and looking for him, kept stilling desperation only for it to flame within you again, not seconds after your ways parted.
The sky above you made Hyunjin’s figure hovering over your own seem vibrant, glistening almost against grey heavens and fog, beaming in shining droplets of water against cold autumn which lay everything in gloom darkness. His body was everywhere, indulging into you, fully submerging you into the spell of his, into the illusion of his love. You lay under his mercy, hopeless with every touch he granted you, needy for ever more when he as much as shifted in his place. His lips continued their journey on your body – giving a kiss to your temple, to your forehead, far too tender, far too loving; moving on to lips and jaw, more urgent now, more vigorous, mouth having missed yours, inhaling your every sound, making your breath his own, bitten lips caressing chin, biting at sharpened jaw; kissing down delicate neck, teeth breaking softness of thin skin, painting dark flowers onto body, nearly drawing blood; moving down to nibble at shoulders, at collarbones and chest, to soothe with kisses momentarily; doting on waist and hips, leaving matching bruises, painting images of love. You doubted it was any more than that, an image simply – yet you let yourself get lost in it, letting yourself lull into prettiest colours and promises, if only for the moment, if only for the few hours spent with him.
Hyunjin looked up at you from beneath his lashes, long and dripping water, seducing you with not more than a gaze. His eyes dark, deep, bearing oceans. He had the powers to drown you, and you were foolish enough in trying to swim.
His hands accompanied his lips on their path across your body, though it was a far messier one. His palms everywhere at once, halting on cheeks or breasts or hips for only mere moments before they were gone again, eager to touch more of you, to explore your every inch, your every hill and vale, the very flaws upon your skin. He was everywhere and nowhere, leaving you hungry for his hold, his grip on you yet granting you more than you were capable of taking. He marked you entirely as his, going as far as marking your soul, carving his name into its’ pages for you to never forget, to always remember. He was intoxicating, manipulating, impossible to refuse.
His kisses tickled your thighs. You lay exposed before him and he latched onto your inner plush, softly, giving kitten licks to pubic bone, only to kiss, just to see you squirm. He was taking his time with you, testing his own patience – you were long hot and bothered, and Hyunjin – seemingly composed – wasn’t any better. Every of your whimper, your every spasm and plea drove him further to senselessness, to overbearing thirst. He didn’t know quite when his touches on your body started to linger, when his heart started aching whenever he submerged into the lake again, whenever he left you laying on the grass only to come back the next day to find you in the same spot, waiting for him. He didn’t know when looking at you started to pang at his heart, because suddenly aware of the impossibility of it – such feelings weren’t in his nature. You shouldn’t be the one luring him in, you shouldn’t be the one taking up every last bit of his mind, you the only thought playing on a loop. You shouldn’t have the same effect he had on you; it was his power to have, a mere human like you wasn’t supposed to confuse everything he’s thought to know about himself.
He kept teasing, didn’t let your whines of desperation get the better of him. He liked taking his time with you – it allowed him to stay with you longer under the pretence of simply looking for pleasure. He watched you, your every move – your body was covered in purple and blue, in blemishes and marks he’d created, his love blossoming on your skin. Your face was contorted, seemingly struggling, longing simply for relief, for more than Hyunjin was giving you now. His lips grazing your skin, moving closer and some more to your core only to pull away, to let his hands wander upon your body and lay his kisses onto tummy or thighs. You chased after every touch, body moving wherever his hands met, arching and pleading. Your hands helpless – you didn’t dare touch him, because you deemed it too intimate. He would turn real if your hands caressed him the same way his ones did, and you felt far too weak to contain yourself from falling under his spell fully, if he only felt attainable. You let a conscious distance, to save yourself, to save your heart – you wondered if it was all too late entirely.
It felt like salvation. You had almost lost hope, had almost started begging and pleading for relief when suddenly you felt it, Hyunjin’s lips on your core, testing waters. Giving kitten licks only to sensitive clit, soft tongue against wetness. It was far too little to what you needed, what you had begged off him for the past half hour you had lay before him, yet the little pleasure he granted, teasing and edging and mean, was enough already after all to send you through insanity. It made you want more while fighting oversensitivity, it had you pleading for his body while the tip of his tongue alone was far too much to bear. You wanted him entirely while having him excessively.
And Hyunjin wanted you to have him, wanted to be yours. Near impossible to resist your wishes he gave in, after all, despite wanting to drag this affair out, to lay with you until late morning hours, side by side throughout hours of dark. He dove in, mouth now lapping onto you, barely capable to contain his own urges – your smell was enticing, your taste more so, the way you felt beneath his touch made Hyunjin forget all about his very being, the bare purpose he walked this planet for; to lure in helpless humans, to sing prettiest melodies and eat them alive. He forgot all about it when his tongue licked a thick stripe from your entrance to your clit, his groan vibrating through you, the tune of his voice intoxicating you. He forgot all about it when his fingers dug deeper into your thighs, drawing blue bruises, when his mouth sucked onto your sensitivity, when he kissed around your core, when he returned to your entrance, tip of his tongue prodding against. When your fingers found his wettened hair, entangling into it, fiddling with strands, pulling at his scalp and his head closer, drawing pain he moaned at. He forgot all about himself in you, and it scared him. Hopelessness like this, not less about a human like you was foreign to his kind, his species, and he wondered if he was twisted. If maybe not true to his nature at all, too weak and foolish to be a creature of seduction, the very embodiment of lust.
Though he couldn’t mind, not with you beneath him, not now. You were writhing underneath his touch, muttering his name in whines and whimpers. His mouth’s ministrations never halted, never stopped on your cunt – he made you soak in arousal, his tongue back on your clit and two of his digits teasing at your hole. Your hips rutted against him, careless of the way you shoved him deeper into you. He enjoyed it, you were aware – Hyunjin was neither scared nor incapable of holding down your hips to keep you still, to have his way with you, yet you learned he enjoyed feeling you fuck yourself against him on occasion, rutting and grinding your pussy against him to your liking, using him as nothing more than a tool for your pleasure. He enjoyed your desperation, your visible frustration – it was teasing malice under pretence of permitted control.
His fingers entered you with no resistance, wetness gushing out of you, your back arching into him, feeling a portion of possible pleasure with the curve of his hand, the pressure of his palm against your pubis. He kept a steady pace while rising to your chest, lips kissing wherever they lay, nibbling on skin, teeth grazing hardened nipples. The pads of his fingers caressing the cushion within you, prodding against it, eliciting sounds of you he dreamed of in his sleeps. Your voice whiny, breathy, hushed.
“Please… Hyunjin.”
He wasn’t one to deny you – had once been though learned the pleasures of giving into you. He understood without much more, with two of your words, not more but a plea, a hopeless attempt at asking for more, asking for something, anything; asking for him. You would never say the words – I want you; I need more of you; I want this to last forever; Stay – and yet Hyunjin liked to pretend it was the meaning behind your begging, the very core of your longing, your craving for him. Liked to pretend for feeling naïve himself to wish upon you, upon a life with you. If he pretended you wanted him as much as he wanted you it eased his aching heart, his yearning soul. If he pretended, he could bear himself a little more, the pain that final reality brought upon.
You were close, Hyunjin could feel it. Your walls were clenching around him in spasms, your voice a higher pitch, your legs on verge of giving out – you pleaded, further and further, his thrusting continued, increased in speed, his palm coming in contact with your clit with every movement – and he pulled away. Watched and watched you intently, and denying you the bliss of orgasm right when you’d swear to be tasting it on your tongue, right when it was within fingers reach. You whined out, long and drawn out, frustrated. Hyunjin has taken what you needed most when you needed it most – an irony within itself, seemingly his entire persona; disappearing when you most wished for him, after giving you a mere taste of it.
His fingers left you, frantic suddenly, remaining patience of his vanished. One would not blame him – the way you stared him down, desperation laced beneath your eyes, your lips caught between your teeth, your hands clinging onto him, pulling him closer, legs caging him in; anyone in love would have fallen far deeper, and he was no exception. His heart swelling at a sheer look at you, your touch igniting fires within him, so very untypical, so very strange. Though he didn’t have enough time to overthink it – you pulled him in for a kiss, deep and passionate, breathless. He melted into you, your mouth a shore his waters collided with, pulling him deeper into you, turning him to an addict.
His erection – painful and abandoned – lay hard between your bodies, cold against your thigh, tip against your core when Hyunjin shifted. He grew impatient, his very own tedious ministrations on you having weakened him just as much, more so, you’d argue. He was leaking, pearly white cum dripping down the length of his shaft, painting his blue veins in white, making you salivate at the sight alone. You arched into him, back lifting from the grass beneath you slightly, enough for Hyunjin to hook his hand beneath it, to draw you closer. The other hand guiding his tip against your entrance, spreading his precum against your slit before nudging in, finally, entering you slowly, inch by inch. You were sensitive, spent after simply teasing, Hyunjin pent up, denied – both of you would last laughable seconds if you only lost an ounce of control, of carefully tended composure. Overwhelming pleasure flooding your bodies, two whimpers of desperation merging into one at sheer contact – none of you moved yet and both of you reduced to a hopeless mess, embarrassing if the circumstances were different. Right this moment, with Hyunjin’s body atop yours, with his tip teasing at your cervix and his hands holding a tight grip on your flesh neither of you was clear minded enough to care. Lost in the other, indulging in the sight, in the scent and feel of skin against skin, wettened, laced in water and sweat, dripping pearls grazing shoulders and tummies and plush thighs, cold water everywhere.
And Hyunjin started moving. Fluid motions against you typical for him, body moving in soft waves always, whether he was walking or fucking into you. His hips gave you no chance of catching your breath – you felt losing control of your body as his own swam against you, pulling out of you until the tip to enter you entirely again, deeply, deeper with every thrust. Dignity, control, coherence left you bit by bit, with every kiss Hyunjin granted against your temple, onto your neck, littering you with wettened paths of his lips on your skin. With every further second you drowned into him, deeper and with no return, sinking meters of depth he presented you. Your hips desperate, chasing his own, your hands homeless, searching for a leverage, for a steady place to stabilize.
And tears rolled down your cheeks, wet and thick, droplets of water against your skin. More tears with every of Hyunjin’s thrusts, with every additional kiss, with every time his palm pressed onto your body harsher, as though scared you’d slip away from underneath his touch. His hips stuttered at the sight of you – entirely water, him having made you, wetness on your body; behind your lids, on your lips, wetness on your cunt. He had lay you in waters entirely, having lulled you into his world, having made you his, and his mind reeled off any sense. He was obsessed with you, addicted hopelessly. His body spasming, two of his digits toying at your clit desperately – he wouldn’t be able to hold his orgasm out much longer so hoping you would reach yours.
Your legs tightening against his torso, your nails clawing into him, daring to draw blood, painting desperation onto his body, your face contorting into pleasure, brows furrowed and mouth agape, head fallen into your neck – and you came in gushing wetness around him, coating him in your release, fluttering around his length enough to pull release out of him in spurts of white, coating your walls, wetting you further. You were messes, both of you, panting, chests heaving up and down – and he stayed. Calming down from your orgasm and Hyunjin hadn’t disappeared. His lingering touch on your body, his lips remaining on your skin, your jaw and neck and shoulders, licking over the bruises he'd drawn onto you. He stayed to lick your mixed release off you, lapping up your essence, basking in your scent, the taste of you. And his heart clenched when it was time to leave, after all – though not with a last longing kiss against your lips, slow and drawn out; maybe you should keep hoping, maybe you shouldn’t quit seeing him by the lake day by day, after all.
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