#but it’s one of those where the marriage and husband comes first which i get

[kpopnstarwars]

Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?: Feyd-Rautha x Reader

A/N: ty taylor swift i attempted to base this fic on your song but then i divulged as normal

tw: 18+, smut, p in v, inkpie, oral (both recieving), sub feyd by which i mean feyd is DOMMED, spit, degradation + praise, one spank kinda, swearing, lil bit of crying, mention of evil baron activities so sa + pedophilia, tiny mention of cheating but none actually happens, lmk if there's anything else bc lbr there probably is i just forgot it

wc: 3.9k

Feyd-Rautha has gravely underestimated you.

It is true that you are not strong in terms of Harkonnen definitions, but you expected a man destined to father the Kwisatz Haderach to be able to see past that. What was that the Bene Gesserit were saying about superior genetics? You don’t see even a glimpse of that in his frosty gaze when he regards you - he looks at you as if you’re a delicate vase that may shatter in the lightest of breezes. He thinks he needs to fear breaking you.

He misses how you miss nothing.

You are not Bene Gesserit; you are merely one of their pawns, a genetic machination produced from centuries of manipulations and deceptions, but you can read a man better than the majority of their number.

The seething jealousy in the clenching off Glossu Rabban’s fists is like a monster sinking its venom laced fangs into his heart: starkly evident to you - as evident as the barely repressed, parasitic fear of inadequacy that lurks like a second beast within the first. Just the same, the gazes the Baron sends your husband do not escape you. Nor does the caged, wild look that washes over him whenever you leave his uncle’s chambers: the look of a man who inside is still a boy, relief washing over him that he has left unscathed and untouched for another time.

Even more nuanced than that, you see the vulnerability within Feyd-Rautha. He craves to be loved, the way he should have been as a child, when instead he was desired; all this at an age where the most he should have been doing was playing with carved wooden toys at his parent’s feet.

He believes no one can see the last, soft sliver of his heart that he’s fought to preserve, that wants nothing but to have someone to be vulnerable with, just because he’s buried it so deep inside of him that sometimes even he doesn’t think it’s there any more.

But you see it.

You see beneath it too, to a place that he himself is not fully aware of. A place where he hates who he has become - a wild, savage creature, bleeding from wounds that do not seem to close up, slipping in its own blood when no one can see.

It’s from here, from this place, that the urge to preserve you somehow originates. He thinks you are a flower whose petals will easily be crushed in his heavy, calloused hands, and he is wrong; in a strange way it endears you to him, that he believes that he is too rough to hold you. You do not think it is quite love - not yet, at least, it is only the third month of your marriage - but when you see him fighting to not be the beast that he is before you in an effort to spare you, something that is not just pity stirs in your heart.

You can hear him now, pacing, cursing under his breath in the antechambers. Sometimes he sleeps there, on the narrow sofa, and you’ve come to realise it is those nights when he wants you most. Aside from your wedding night, he has made no other attempts to produce an heir, and you find his restraint valiant, but stupid.

He could try as hard as he liked; he would not get anywhere close to breaking you.

Rising from your seat on the small, ornate stool at the vanity, you push open the door to the antechamber and take a step into the room. Feyd pauses his pacing with his back to you, and you can see the tension in his shoulders and the rigid way he holds his body before he turns around to face you. His pupils are dilated, his eyes dark, and you watch him regard you with something too untethered to be restraint.

‘Am I keeping you awake, wife?’

You shake your head. ‘I had not retired yet.’

You know he expects you to explain why you’ve interrupted him, but you remain quiet - your silence is as much of a tool as your words. He doesn’t speak either, but his eyes tell you enough; they do not leave your frame, hungry, torrid, and his fingers twitch as if they ache to slip you out of the simple shift you wear to sleep and touch you everywhere, to explore the curves and dips of your body.

Tilting your head, you smirk. ‘If you wish to give me your heirs, husband, I would advise another method that differs from staring one into me.’

‘You don’t know what I want,’ he growls, but his face tells other tales.

Stepping forward, you reach out to him but he backs away. Still, the sheer thirst in his eyes sears away at you, even as his actions fight against it, his fingers closing on the doorknob. His hands are steady, his shoulders too, but the tightness in his muscles betrays him as always. Usually, you’d let him go now, but tonight you wish to see how far he will let you push him before he pushes back, so you snare his forearm in your fingers, tugging at him as he turns the knob.

He doesn’t look at you. ‘Don’t test me.’

You smile, cloyingly so. ‘Why not?’

Lightly, you trace your fingers down his chest, straightening the fabric of his black shirt while you gaze thoughtfully up at him through your lashes, lips curving upwards at the indecision in his eyes. He fights it, wrestles with the burning need, but in the end, he prevails, transforming it into a streak of anger that colours his voice as he tears himself from your grasp, recoiling as if your touch ignites pain within him - and maybe it is pain, that he wants you so but fears to indulge himself.

‘Get away from me.’

Feyd-Rautha does not give you a second to do so, because he is the one haring down the dimly lit corridor, his jaw tight, nails digging into his palms. Truthfully, you have never seen him move that fast, not even in the arena, and it almost makes you laugh - the great na-Baron fleeing from his wife and his own lecherous thoughts.

Maybe you did not win this round of tug of war, but he has asked something of you - to get away from him. Over the next few weeks, you follow this to the letter, avoiding him like the plague; you do not interrupt his pacing in the antechambers, nor do you haunt the bedroom like you normally do, asking him questions that he cannot answer. Feyd-Rautha is sensitive to change and you know he will seek the reason for it.

There is a barely cloaked intensity in his eyes when he finally corners you, and under it, you detect recognition: he sees that you are not who he thought you were, and he sees that you are not so different from him - always observing, always planning, and so, mind shatteringly hungry.

You were just dropping by the bed chambers to gather some of your clothes. The night before, you’d relocated yourself to one of the guest bedrooms - you could sense Feyd’s resolve cracking, and you knew that this would break it for certain: coming into his chambers to find them empty, wifeless, your side of the bed damningly cold. Jealousy is clear in his eyes as he backs you against the vanity, filling you with a rising sense of triumph.

‘What has caused this change in your behaviour, wife?’

You raise a brow, faking confusion. ‘What change? I would argue it is your behaviour that has changed, Feyd, you who can barely stand to be in a room alone with me.’

He snarls. ‘Who were you with last night?’

‘I thought you wanted me to get away from you,’ you reply, keeping up your pretence a little longer. ‘I slept in the guest quarters. You do not reciprocate any of my advances.’

‘Advances?’ He echoes, incredulous. ‘You taunt me, wife. It’s like you want me to break you.’

Cocking your head, you regard him coolly for a moment, letting some of the sharpness of your unmasked gaze leak through, letting him see the calculation in your eyes - you see the wariness it incites in him as he realises again that you are not who he thinks you are. Wordless, you lean in close to him, bringing your face to his, hovering there.

And then you let your arm drop and make a swipe for the knife at his belt.

Fast as a viper, he catches your wrist in your fingers, but you smile, challenge in your eyes as you bring his second blade to his neck. You’d slipped it out while he was distracted with your other hand, and he blinks at the cold press of it to his skin.

‘That’s the problem, isn’t it?’ You murmur. ‘You’re not scared of me, you’re scared of breaking me. Who’s afraid of little old me, huh? No one is, Feyd.’

‘They should be,’ he whispers, and when you meet his gaze, it sets you alight.

‘Indeed,’ you reply softly, letting your lower lip brush his.

As he kisses you, his hands seizing your face and locking you to him, you hook his knife’s blade in the collar of his shirt and drag it down, slicing the fabric until it flutters to the floor. Pulling away, you take him in - the moonlight planes of his sculpted chest, the broadness of his shoulders, his roiling, keen gaze. This man whets your appetite in the darkest kinds of ways: you cannot wait to ruin him.

Absently, you trace the outline of the tent in his pants with the tip of the knife blade. A breathy noise leaves him, and he freezes as if he can feel the cold kiss of the metal against his skin; you laugh, delighted that he is so mouldable in your hands.

‘Get on your knees,’ you command, seating yourself on the end of the bed.

It’s captivating, his lack of hesitation as he follows your orders. He sits back on his heels, looking up at you, and you can tell that he’s letting you see him like this, you can tell that if he didn’t want you to have him like this, you wouldn’t, but still, you reach out, gently skimming his shoulder with your fingertips.

‘All you have to do is say, and I will stop,’ you say.

He dips his chin. ‘I do not think I’ll have to.’

You smirk, something savage and powerful and thrillingly depraved rearing its head inside you, awakened by the sight of the na-Baron kneeling at your feet. That will be his last coherent sentence tonight.

Pausing, making him wait, you lean down a little, inspecting his features, the ardour in his eyes. He looks at you as if you hold the universe in your hands, as if you hung the stars in his sky, as if you are a  goddess, and he wants nothing but to worship you until he is expended.

You spit on him.

It lands on his cheek, and his eyes widen a fraction. A shudder wracks his body, and he simply stares up at you, breathing heavy, before slowly, his lips part, and he sticks out his tongue, his request evident. You grab his jaw, squeezing so that he opens up wider, and spit in his mouth - the low groan that leaves him as he swallows is fucking delectable.

His cock twitches in his pants when you pick up the knife. Tracing the blade over the shell of his ear, over his cheekbone and over his lips, you marvel at the way he holds still, awaiting what you’ll inflict on him next like a good little toy.

When the metal reaches his jaw, you nick the skin, drinking up his sharp intake of breath and the clench of his fists as the blood trickles down the column of his throat; you catch the droplet of crimson on your tongue, licking a careful stripe up his neck, grinning when you catch his lips in a kiss and he trembles at the taste of his own blood. Feyd is greedy, his tongue brushing against yours as he leans up into your touch, the way his mouth works against yours hot, fervent, pleading.

Planting a palm to his sternum, you push him back, chuckling when he strains to follow you, eyes glazed, lips swollen. You spot a streak of red and swipe your thumb over his lower lip, wiping it off before standing.

‘Get up, strip, and get on the bed,’ you bid him, pulling your own shift over your head.

Feyd scrambles to follow your orders, yanking his pants down, and you take your time to admire his muscle sheathed body; strength ripples beneath his skin, a sweet dichotomy to his weeping cock, rock hard and flushed rosy. He halts his movements, as if he’s pinned down by your appraising gaze.

‘For whom do you wait, husband?’

As he turns to get onto the bed, he’s a little too slow and you swat at his ass. A choked sound leaves him, and you laugh at the way his knees almost buckle. Feyd’s ears run red when he lies down on the mattress, and you straddle his thighs, sneering at the way he twists his fingers in the sheets, squirming beneath you.

‘Pathetic.’

You don’t give him time to respond, instead wrapping your fingers around his cock and pumping up and down fast, and he gasps at your rough touch, his back arching and his hands coming up to touch you - you wave them off you, meeting his eyes.

‘No touching,’ you intone, the hint of warning in your voice enough to render him obedient.

This time, you take his cock head in your mouth. He’s so fucking sensitive, reacting as if the sweep of your thumb down the underside of him and the slide of your tongue over him is mind shattering; it doesn’t take you long to get him teetering at the edge of his orgasm, just for you to pull away at the last moment.

His thigh jolts, weak pleas of your name leaving his lips, gripping the sheets so hard you wonder if they’ll rip. Again, you take him in your mouth, deeper, one hand dipping to play with his balls; you revel in the wretched sound that he makes when you hollow your cheeks around him, your teeth grazing up his length. You toy with him until you think he’s moments from breaking, until he’s writhing upon the sheets, face contorted in pleasure loaded with sweet, sweet agony.

‘Please let me come,’ he whimpers, voice cracking, the look in his eyes crazed, pitiful. ‘Please.’

You decide to give it to him, jerking him brutally fast until he comes; it hits him like a tidal wave - his eyes roll back in his skull, his body tensing, rigid and impossibly taut before he goes boneless, a broken cry of your name on his lips as he spills all over his stomach. A single, ecstatic tear slides down his cheek as his orgasm seizes him, snatching him up and shaking him like a ragdoll.

Lingering at his side, you wait until he’s come down from his high before getting up to retrieve a damp cloth from the bathroom, perching on the bed beside him and cleaning up his come, pressing kisses to the surprisingly soft skin of his hips. One wavering hand comes to rest in your hair, and you glance up at him, biting back a smug grin at the dazed look in his eyes.

‘Feeling okay?’

He nods.

‘Words,’ you chide.

‘Y - yes, na-Baroness. Better than okay.’

You raise a brow at that. You did not specify for him to call  you anything, so this is all his doing; he fidgets beneath your gaze, and you note that he’s growing hard again, his cock stiffening between his thighs.

‘Can I…’ He begins, but trails off, thinking better of it.

‘No, little na-Baron,’ you reply coyly. ‘Tell me what you desire.’

His eyes scorch you with their yearning. ‘I want to taste you, na-Baroness.’

You smile. ‘As you wish.’

You lean back against the pillows, letting your legs fall open for him. It’s somewhat comical, the way his eyes widen as he sees your slick cunt, and he swallows harshly - you can almost sense his mouth watering. Carefully, reverently, almost, he nudges your knees over his wide shoulders, bringing his face close to your pussy, admiring you. It’s as if he’s testing himself, waiting to see how long it takes for him to break and taste you.

Lurching forward, Feyd groans, low and deep and right against your clit when he laps at your heat, quickly becoming insatiable as his tongue moves masterfully at the apex of your legs, laving over your clit and curving in and out of you. Bolts of pleasure spear through your body, fierce like crackling lightning at the eye of a storm - he is everything to you in this moment. He shatters you, breaking you and mending you anew.

As he brings you closer, your body begins to shake and your legs close around his head; you suffocate him with your thighs, and you can tell he lives for it from the way he fervently grips your ass in his large hands, kneading the flesh and moaning into your pussy.

Something pulls tight within you, deliciously so, and you cry his name in warning, fingers curling around the base of his neck to hold him still as your hips buck, rutting into his face. Dimly, you can see him grinding into the mattress as you fuck yourself on his tongue - the chafe of his nose against your clit makes you shatter, and you fall apart for him with a ragged cry, nails digging into his shoulders.

You’re still coming down from it when Feyd begins to lap at you again, dutifully cleaning you up, and you twitch with the slight overstimulation, hooking a finger under his chin to see his eyes: his gaze is loaded with the heat of a thousand suns, and yet somehow it is also bleary, drunk. A laugh escapes you, and you tug at his hand, encouraging him to lie beside you.

‘Good boy,’ you hum as he nuzzles into your touch. You can feel him achingly hard against your thigh, and you let yourself catch your breath before reaching down and wrapping your fingers around his cock. ‘Want to fuck me now, hm?’

He nods avidly. ‘Yes, na-Baroness.’

All it takes is for you to half spread your legs before he’s climbing eagerly between them, hesitating before looking up at you for permission. You dip your chin, smirking, and then he’s sinking into you, burying himself inside you.

Voice cracking, Feyd chokes out your name, and he shudders, gasping at the velvet vice of your cunt as it clenches, bearing down on him. Sharply, you rock your hips up to meet his, and this time, a soft, keening whine leaves him, and he squeezes his eyes shut, biting down hard on his lower lip.

He can barely keep himself from spilling inside you.

‘You can barely hold it, can’t you, my little na-Baron?’

His words come out jumbled, his speech scrambled, mind ground to a standstill by the all consuming heat of your cunt; he babbles out protests, saying that he can, desperate to prove he can, stammering that he wants to make you feel good.

Cruelly, you buck your hips up against his again, and a pained sound looses from his chest, but he thrusts to meet you, hips lurching forward, his arms almost buckling either side of your head. Panting, he pulls out slowly before slamming back in, unable to stifle the whimper that tears from the back of his throat when you rake your nails down his shoulder blades, claiming him, littering his shoulders and neck with bites.

‘That’s it,’ you sigh as he finds his pace. ‘Just like that, good boy.’

A strangled noise tears itself from him at your praise, and he fucks into you, frantic, almost feral. Eventually, his thrusts begin to turn sloppy, and you kiss him in order to steal his breath and taste his fervid moans of your name on your tongue as he comes deep inside you.

Pressing a palm to his lower back, you pin him there, buried snugly within your pussy as you reach down with your other hand and rub your clit hard - it takes but a moment for you to come, and he writhes at the cataclysmic feel of your walls fluttering around him, overstimulating him, his mouth falling open in a silent cry as he comes again with your cunt milking his cock.

Completely spent, Feyd goes limp, and you rub your hand over his back, smoothing circles on his skin with your lips to his forehead. The post orgasm clarity begins to hit him, and you feel him go rigid - slowly, he pulls out, his seed leaking out now that he’s not filling you, and he attempts to get up, but his legs are too weak and he collapses beside you instead, his chest heaving, his eyes still a little hazy, still fucked out, even as he fights for lucidity.

There’s something on his face that cuts at your heart - a look of expectancy, as if he’s waiting for you to get up and leave now that you’ve had your fill of him. Concerned, you reach out, and he leans away from your touch.

‘Feyd,’ you murmur. ‘It was not too much, was it?’

‘N - no,’ he replies. ‘I just…’

Sitting up slowly, you look him right in the eyes. He stares back, bewildered, but you press a finger to his lips, foregoing your own fumbling words to instead recite the pledge of allegiance of a Harkonnen soldier to their general; his eyes widen - you know you have hit home. You’d exchanged wedding vows, of course, but these have a different meaning: you see it in the respectful way it is uttered, a soldier acknowledging his superior’s presence.

You pledge to him not only your heart, but your sword - your service - too.

‘Wife,’ Feyd bites out. ‘Surely you do not mean - ’

‘I mean it,’ you cut in. ‘Every word.’

Again, you reach for him, and this time he does not flinch away, letting you tuck him close to you, his breath coming out shaky. Gently, you tip up his chin, planting a chaste kiss on his parted lips, and he returns it slowly, wondrously, no teeth or tongue, just the gentle brush of his mouth against yours: the innocence of it is bittersweet - has anyone ever kissed him this tenderly?

Carefully, you withdraw, wanting to see him, but he does not let you meet his eyes, instead hiding his face in your neck, his lips at the hollow of your throat. You grant him the privacy of not being seen when you feel wetness on your skin, his hot tears tracking down and pooling in your collarbone - his hands ball at his sides, and you pry open his fingers and lace yours with his, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. Tightly, you wrap your arms around him, holding him with a hand cupping the back of his head, cradling him to your chest.

Your voice is quiet in the still air, but it carries as if through an arena, a promise arcing through the air like a soaring arrow.

‘You no longer walk this world alone, Feyd-Rautha.’

best believe when i started writing this i did not anticipate the 2x 'good boy's 🧍

dune taglist: @callumsgirl @oh-you-mean-me @insufferablyunbearable

#feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #austin butler #dune #dune two #dune part two #dune 2 #dune part 2 #dune ii #dune part ii #feyd rautha fic #feyd rautha fanfiction #feyd-rautha #dune fanfiction #dune smut #atreides #house harkonnen #feyd rautha x reader #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd rautha x you #dune x you #feyd oneshot #feyd x y/n #dune x y/n #feyd angst #feyd fluff #feyd smut #feyd rautha smut #sub feyd rautha

[brownandwhat]

i am no longer the therapist friend

#sorry but i’ve realised with some of the friends i have had long term #that i probably have outgrown them as when suggesting to do things outside of just meeting up at each others houses #we don’t do anything else #we have very different interests very different hobbies and availability #i say outgrown but i wouldn’t cut them off as they are childhood friends #but when i do meet up with them which tends to be twice in a year because that’s when they are available #it just so happens to be reminiscing about high school talking about their marriages and themselves and the issues they’ve been having #i end up feeling like i’m watching a show being played out because i’m not asked anything im not in the same era of their lives #there’s defo a grey area or wall that until i do that i won’t know or get it #and im alwyas just left feeling like i could’ve just stayed home and they just text me this #it has been voiced and addressed that we do stuff together pre plan if we have to #but it’s one of those where the marriage and husband comes first which i get #but when things go south of that then you remember me as a friend? #idk

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gojo x fem reader

sequel to violet lights

After your ex-boyfriend gets arrested on national television, you find yourself realizing that you really didn’t know much at all about Gojo Satoru. Well, he’s better known in the Yakuza as The Six Eyes, not that he ever told you that.

𐙚 sweet little lies by @/mooglepaws (on going)

toji x fem reader

Megumi Fushiguro is the perfect Fiancé. Caring, loyal, successful, devastatingly handsome and crazy in love with you. So how and why do you end up fucking his Dad? As your wedding looms and the consequences of your affair unfold, you have to make a choice between the Fushiguro men.

This is a Toji x Reader x Megumi but the smut is almost exclusively Toji x Reader focusing on their affair.

𐙚 the twist of a knife by @darkcat23 (on going)

gojo x fem reader

This world is dull, colourless in your eyes. You are just trying to keep going with your life, not bothering anyone, trying to support your mother and yourself. So what happens when you agree to help your ex one night? And what if you catch the attention of a certain white haired assassin? And he shows you just how colourful this world truly is. or, a story of a girl with a violent mind and a boy with violent tendencies, finding each other, intertwining, and feeding off one another. perhaps it is fate that has brought them together. or perhaps it's something more sinister, something more cold.

𐙚 untameable waves by @/circedemedici

(unknown i guess hopefully i can let you know)

has been taken down i dont know if it’ll come back but if it does i’ll link it! but i’m leaving it here because it was most definitely my favourite :(

please let me know any other fics you’ve read because i love reading fics with a LOT of plot and also let me know if you end up reading any and you enjoy them as much as i did! :3

i think i used every tag known to man LOL 𐙚

#modern sukuna #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #dilf toji #toji zenin #satoru gojo smut #satoru smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader #jjk angst #jjk smut #jjk gojo #jjk sukuna #jjk fanfic #jjk fic #jjk x black reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu geto #kento nanami smut #kento nanami x reader #nanami fluff #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento smut #nanami kento x reader #nanami smut #nanami x you

[gyuzgrl]

her //kmg//

summary- with your marriage in shambles, you find yourself at your wits end when Mingyu's infidelity comes to light. heated discussions ensue.

PLEASE WAIT FOR PT 2 I'M NOT LETTING HIM OFF THAT EASY !!!!

Mingyu never thought he'd end up here. As tears brim over your cheeks, hurt evident in your eyes, he feels his world collapse.

Sure, he'd only married you because his father arranged it, but as your relationship comes up on its first year, he's developed certain feelings towards you. Feelings you can never know of. Feelings he thought you'd never return.

Your marriage has never been a point of envy for those around you. It's common knowledge that you and Mingyu hate each other's guts. You've made your peace with this- or at least you thought you did, until this morning, when your breakfast was interrupted by an unexpected voice message.

'hi, it's me- um I think you left your tie at my place last night... d'you wanna come get it? I've uh, I've bought that set you told me to get last week. call me back, kay? see ya'

The words ring clear as day in your head, even now, as you sob into your palms, hunched over in bed.

Filled with dread, you waited for your husband to leave the house, heading to work. You knew he would've heard the message- her message- sometime during the day, and so, you waited.

Waited for the call-

"I'll be home late today- there's an issue that came up last minute. don't wait up."

There. That same excuse you've heard night after night, for months on end. Your heart breaks when you realise that Mingyu's probably gone to see her everytime he had to 'stay late at the office'.

Although you knew going into this marriage that there would be no love, no romance, you couldn't help but hope. Hope that one day your husband would wake up and realise that he's been in love with you all along. Hope that one day the fighting and screaming would cease. Hope that one day he'd look at you like you matter to him.

Hearing the practiced ease with which Mingyu lied to you, you felt your last straw snap. No love, you could deal with. No intimacy, you could self satisfy. But no respect? Taking you for a fool, playing around behind your back, lying? You've reached a new low.

What's worse is, despite knowing that he's in the wrong here, you can't help but wonder what she has that you don't. What can you do to make him love you? How can you make him want you?

Mingyu's neglect has done permanent damage to your self esteem, and now you find yourself caught in an endless loop of obsession.

Evening rolls around and you're alone, in your big apartment, surrounded by cold, white furniture. Your house is spotless. It's clean and neat and unfamiliar. You can't call this place home. Not when nobody really lives in it.

Tears threaten to spill from your eyes as your mind fills with thoughts of your husband's infidelity. He's smiled at her, undressed her, touched her. Fuck, he probably looks at her and sees the ghost of what could've been.

No, you tell yourself. You cannot possibly be crying over a man who doesn't care about you. Where is the self respecting woman you once knew? The one that would stand up tall, make her presence felt.

Hours pass by like this, and the house grows dark. You haven't moved from your position in bed- scrunched up, hugging your knees close. You haven't eaten all day. You haven't thought of anything but Mingyu's betrayal.

There's a sharp jangle of keys sticking into the door, and you know he's here. You can't bring yourself to move, can't be bothered to greet him like you usually do.

His bag lands on the couch outside with a dull thunk, and he makes his way to the bedroom.

You should move- pretend to be asleep so he doesn't try to say anything, turn to the side so he doesn't notice your pain- but you don't. You can't, rather.

Mingyu walks in, head hanging low. He notices your frame, hunched up on the mattress, and his shoulders tense.

"you're up" he says to you, as if to confirm.

You stay silent.

"y/n?"

More silence.

Flicking the lights on now, Mingyu takes a step towards the bed, now noticing the red hot flush of tears streaming down your face.

"hey what's-" he draws closer, arm reaching out to thumb away your tears, "you're crying,"

So you did end up crying.

All the mental pep talks you gave yourself about self respect and how he doesn't deserve your tears, clearly didn't do much.

You lift a hand to your cheeks, feeling the wetness of your tears.

"oh", is all you can manage, wondering when you started crying, sitting dumbly as if under some sort of spell. Your eyes, unfocused, stare blankly at the wall in front of you, and your lips begin to quiver.

"what's wrong? oh my g- please don't cry" Mingyu panics, reaching out to grab your face, but your words have him freeze.

"don't. don't touch me."

Your voice is a whisper, trembling like a leaf, but it carries a dangerous certainty.

He backs away instantly- "is everything oka-"

This time you turn to the side, facing him properly, and something within him just knows that you know.

"oh." he breathes, eyes flashing with guilt.

"when were you going to tell me?"

When he fails to respond, you push further, voice laced with a dangerous mix of hurt and rage.

"how long have you been seeing her for? goddammit Mingyu I know you don't love me- I know you aren't happy but god how could you do this to me? to us? you have to remember, I'm just a woman at the end of the day. I'm only human- fuck" you break off into a sob, letting your words, your emotions free. It was reckless- being so raw- but there's nothing to lose anymore...

You've already lost what little you thought you had.

Your watery, blank eyes tremble upwards to meet his, and you see his face contort with an unrecognizable kind of pain. You've never seen him like this before.

"whatever you wanted, whatever you needed- you could've taken it from me, I'm your wife Mingyu. god, I feel so fucking stupid waiting for you all this while to just love me- and you've been crawling into someone else's sheets? Do I disgust you so much that you won't even touch me to satisfy yourself? Do you hate me so mu-"

"don't you dare." Mingyu interrupts, jaw tensing, "you can call me a liar, a cheat, an asshole I don't care but don't you dare try and tell me how I feel- not when you don't fucking know anything."

Your brows pinch together, an insurmountable rage boiling inside you, and you rise to your feet, standing as you face your husband.

"oh, I, don't know anything? What about you then, Mingyu? What do you know that I don't? I'm telling you how I feel 'cause I fucking see it. I see the way you look at me with that unamused, tired look in your eyes, I see how you don't talk to me, I see how you leave your stupid fucking ties at some girl's house 'cause you'd rather fuck her than touch m-"

You can't bring yourself to finish your sentence. Somehow, saying what you already know, makes if feeler so much more real. You can't bear the thought of him not loving you, not wanting you.

"you think this is what I wanted? you think I wanted to look for someone else instead of touching you? fuck y/n after all the screaming and fighting, you think I didn't wanna reach out and hold you? everyday when I get home you think I don't wan- fuck do you really think I don't wanna talk to you and hear your voice and feel you?"

You shake your head, slightly afraid of how Mingyu's eyes have darkened, taking on a crazed hue.

"my arms would never have comforted you, y/n. You thought me a stranger. How could I touch you, knowing damn well you don't want me like I want you?" He stops, chest heaving with bottled emotions, and his words ring in your head.

'you don't want me like I want you'

Trembling hands ball into fists, punching his chest as tears stream down your face. How dare he? How dare he assume that you didn't want him- that you didn't love him?

"you fucking idiot" you sob, fat tears rolling down your cheek.

There's a short pause as Mingyu derives meaning from your words, and his eyes widen.

"y-you mean to say that you lo-" he chokes back a shudder when your hands grip at the fabric of his shirt in wordless confirmation. A hand wraps around your fist, pulling you closer, and your eyes widen.

"what are you doing-"

"what I should've done a long time ago."

A swift tug has you stumbling forward, right into him, and your lips meet. Mingyu's free hand splays against your lower back, dragging you nearer- as close as physically possible- while he devours you like a prisoner on death row receiving his last meal.

It's a messy, desperate kiss, but the sparks it sends flying over your body has your knees growing weaker and weaker. His lips cradle yours, sucking, tugging, pushing, as he holds you like there's no tomorrow. Tears prick your eyes once more, but this time it's different.

Now you can feel his emotions, feel his love.

The longing, the yearning he's felt all this while, comes pouring out into the points where your bodies connect. His touch sends fire burning all over you, chasing away your despair and replacing it instead with red-hot desire.

Mingyu's tongue pushes into you, licking at the seam of your mouth, circling your tongue as he discovers you in a way he never has before. You can't help but whimper at his actions, and you find yourself getting lost in him. No sound- other than your heartbeat, thudding in your ears- is audible to you. Nothing. It's as though you're underwater, and your hearing is muffled- except this time, it's him you're drowning in.

Aching lungs remind you that air is a necessity, and you both pull away, a string of saliva connecting your crimson lips to his. The rapid rise and fall of your chest tells Mingyu to give you time, but his body doesn't listen.

The taste of you is addictive.

He pulls you in once again, ignoring the helpless gasp you let out in response. Trailing up your back, Mingyu tangles his hand into your hair, letting his palm cradle the nape of your neck. The plush surface of his lips feel sinful against yours- leaving you in desperate need of more. His tongue swipes at the seam of your mouth and you let him in, giving him access once again.

The hand holding your wrist crawls up to your palm, interlacing his fingers with yours, and squeezing tight, as if to reassure you, as if to say- 'I'm right here, I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere'

"Mingyu," you breathe against his lips, "do you reall-"

You feel his lips quirk up into a smile, letting his canines show ever so slightly, and he moves down to your neck, right below your ear.

Sucking harsh, wet love bites into the sensitive skin, he whispers-

"I love you more than words could even begin to describe"

His breath ghosts over your ear, spreading goosebumps all around your body and you shudder at the sudden stimulation. Pulling back, you look him in the eye, lust and love brewing in your own.

"so show me"

It's as though you've awoken something within him- something he's been trying to tame, to control. There's a fire burning in his eyes, dancing with danger, with desire. Without warning, Mingyu pushes into you, closing the space between your bodies, and you let out a pitiful whimper.

"will you let me?" he takes in a sharp breath, feeling your body against his.

You stare up at him, wide-eyed, and nod. Mingyu taps at your thighs, and you jump right away, trusting him blindly to catch you.

"good girl-" he rasps as his hand travels down to squeeze the curve of your ass.

Mingyu sucks bruises into your skin- neck, chest, jaw- wherever he can, and you let him, not caring about who sees them. You tip your head down to do the same, but something stops you.

A bruise.

He tugs you back, searching your eyes.

"what's wrong?"

"she's kissed you here"

He sighs.

"we don't have to do this- I've j-"

"no! no I want to- I want this god I want this I just- can I do something first?"

He nods.

"anything you want, my love"

Mingyu places you back down and lets you push him onto the bed, laying him down on his back as you crawl on top of him. Stradling his waist, you begin to unbutton his shirt, letting the crisp white fabric fall slack against your fingers.

"you're mine now, you got that?"

"all yours baby, only yours" he breathes as you part his shirt.

Your eyes skim over the hickeys painted over his chest and your heart twists painfully in your chest. Unshed tears sting at your eyes, and immediately Mingyu sits up against the headboard, holding your face.

"I'm so sorry- I- fuck we shouldn't-"

"no."

"baby..."

"no- I want these-" you motion to the bruises on his chest, "I want these off of you"

Mingyu nods silently, leaning back against the headboard, and you continue your actions. Lowering your face to his throat, you find a red-ish splotch, and attach your lips to it, sucking into the tender skin so hard it breaks, leaving a purple bruise behind.

He winces as you move to the next one, sucking harder and harder each time, desperately trying to erase the past. Observing this, Mingyu's face softens. A gentle, guilty smile stretches past his lips and he brings a hand to pat the back of your head, tangling his fingers into your hair to pull you closer- flush against his bare chest.

A yelp escapes you as you lose your balance, falling forward into him. He wraps his arms around you, holding you still as he says-

"I'm yours," He squeezes around you, nuzzling into your neck, "I can't change the past, and I'm sorry for everything I've done- sorry for hurting you the way I did"

You can feel how rapidly his heart thuds against his chest, beating on the door of his ribcage as if it wants to be let out, as if it wants to jump out of his chest, into your hands.

"it hurts," you sniffle, "it really hurts"

His fingers rub soothing circles into your skin, trying to melt away your pain, feeling his own heart shatter into a million pieces. This is of his own doing, though. Only he is to blame.

"lemme make you feel good, hm? let me show you how much you really mean to me,"

You nod, letting him move you as he pleases, until you're under him, nestled comfortably between the pillows, with him hovering over you. The veins of his forearms tense deliciously as they hold his weight, and you feel your body grow hot.

Soft moans slip out of your mouth when he lowers his face into the crook of your neck, sucking red marks into you- gentle, yet firm. His lips suction your skin, teeth nipping at the chosen spot until your skin breaks, before letting his tongue soothe over the crimson bruise.

Like this, he carves a path down your neck to the collar of your shirt, stopping right at your cleavage.

"this okay, my love?" he stares up at you, one hand shifting to tickle the hem of your shirt

"mhm"

Gently, like you're made of glass, he undresses you, gasping when he realises that you're bare underneath.

Your skin catches him off-guard, and Mingyu finds himself transfixed. Like an anchorite discovering the face of God, he stares at you in wonder, in awe, finally feeling complete.

The intensity of his stare has you nervous, and you lift your arms to cover yourself.

"do-don't stare," you mumble, cheeks growing hot as his eyes burn holes into your skin.

"can't help myself- you're so beautiful,"

"Mingyu please," you whimper, feeling wetness pool between your legs, "I need you"

Feverish hands roam over you, and his head dips into the valley of your breasts, pressing soft, wet kisses to your skin. Mingyu closes in on your breast, letting his teeth nip gently at your hardened nipple, and you gasp, feeling your body light up at the motion.

He grins against you, repeating the action and you let out a trembling whimper.

"don't tease" you plead, threading your fingers through his hair, "need you so bad Gyu,"

"I could kiss you all my life and never get enough,"

Enough said. You tug him up, pushing your lips together once again in a messy kiss. Mingyu grinds into you, and you gasp at the prominent bulge poking out of his trousers. He uses this to his advantage, pushing his tongue into you, letting the wet muscle trace over the corners of your mouth as if to memorise every texture, every taste.

You chest flutters, and you whimper into his mouth, almost losing your composure when he begins to carve a path from your lips to your stomach, leaving gentle kisses down your collarbones, chest, tummy.

Stopping at the waistband of your shorts, Mingyu looks up at you, eyes practically begging that you allow him to undress you.

"please" you whisper, head tipping back into the pillows when his hands smooth down your sides, hooking under your shorts to pull them off. Keeping his eyes trained on yours, he tugs the fabric down, tantalisingly slow.

The sensuality, the intimacy of this act finally becomes known to you, when your eyes stay stitched together, as if connected by string.

Once you're left completely bare, at his mercy, he kneels.

At the foot of the bed, as if it is your alter, Mingyu kneels, letting your ankles rest on his broad shoulders. He presses tender kisses to your limbs; ankles, calves, thighs, making his way up to his very own pot of gold.

Liquid gold.

"baby you're dripping-" he groans, almost frustrated with how stunning you look, splayed out and wet, all for him.

His kisses inch closer and closer, moving from your thighs to the tender flesh right next to your sex.

You know what comes next.

"oh"

Your lips part, settling into an 'o' shape, when Mingyu licks a long, fat stripe up your slit, stopping at your clit to prod gentle circles with the tip of his tongue.

For a man who's hasn't as much as kissed you before, he sure knows how to work your body.

Perhaps you were just made for one another.

You feel the thick trickle of arousal seeping out of your hole, and Mingyu laps it up, letting his tongue dip into you slightly, curling up to cup every last drop.

"fuck you taste divine," he groans, voice low and gruff, "better than everything I've imagined-"

Your heart swells.

"you thought abou- f-fuck Mingyu right there"

He smirks against your cunt, humming a quick affirmation that sends a jolt up your spine.

"thought of you every night, wanted to hold you, feel you-"

You gasp, gulping thickly at his words, and your mind grows fuzzy, filled with cotton as you feel your body beginning to float away.

Mingyu brings his lips around your clit, suctioning the sensitive bud out of its hiding as his tongue laps at it. Your grip on his hair tightens, and your mouth hangs open- whimpers slipping out, beyond your control.

Without warning, Mingyu slips a finger into you, pushing his way in. Your back arches off the bed, and your hips snap up, but he holds you down, basking in the long drawn moan he manages to rip from your throat.

The stretch of your walls around his digit has you whimpering and writhing under him, and you can't help but wonder how big his cock is, how it would split you open for good if his fingers are already almost too much.

As if he read your thoughts, Mingyu winces at the way you suck him in.

"so fuckin' tight-" he gasps, jaw dropping in awe at how your tiny little cunt stretches to accomodate a single finger.

With the way Mingyu worked his tongue against you, and his finger into you, it's no wonder your orgasm begins to build. You feel your body tense, on the verge of release, limbs and stomach tightening as he works against you.

"please- don't sto- oh" you shudder when his tongue presses harder.

The great wave of pleasure rises, up and up, higher and higher, ready to come crashing down any moment now, when suddenly, he plunges a second finger into you, ripping your orgasm out of you with such force, your legs tremble as a string of moans and profanities leave your parted lips.

Mingyu scissors into you, fucking you through your orgasm, as your arousal drips down his fingers, down his wrist. Your legs shake uncontrollably as he pistons in and out of you, and you shudder.

"w-wait I'm still-"

"sensitive? mm I can tell" he smirks, lowering his face back to your cunt, tongue lapping at your juices eagerly.

He prods the muscle into you, bullying it's way beside his fingers to collect the remnants of your orgasm.

"fu-" you gasp, feeling your body convulse.

Cupping his tongue, Mingyu drags your wetness up your folds, spreading it over your clit before licking firm circles around the sensitive bud.

You moan, helplessly, and your body is ablaze, nerves standing on edge from the intensity of your previous orgasm.

As he continues his assault on your overstimulated sex, you feel another orgasm build at record speed.

Feeling you clench up around his fingers, Mingyu pushes harder, licking tighter circles into your clit, and you come undone within seconds- shocking both yourself and him.

"that's it, that's my good girl," he sighs, secretly in awe of how responsive you are to his touch.

He pulls his fingers out of you, and you whimper at the sudden loss.

"patience," he soothes, tongue trailing up his wrist to the tip of his finger, taking in your arousal.

Your breath hitches at his actions.

"you taste too fucking good to waste any of this"

Rising off the floor, he licks his lips, staring down at you with adoration painted plain as day on his handsome face.

His knee presses between your legs, and you feel the bed dip under his weight. Swift hands unbuckle his belt, undoing the clasp with one hand while the other works at his buttons.

Before you know it, Mingyu's pants are off, leaving him in plain black boxers and an opened shirt. He peels his top off, tossing it to the side, staring into your eyes.

"you can touch," he rasps, tugging you up to sit before his naked torso.

Your body listens before your brain can comprehend his words, and you let his hand pull your wrist up, placing your palm flush against his abs.

Your jaw drops.

He's rock solid. Years of hard work and dedication have defined the ridges of his muscles, and your mouth waters at the sight. You trace over each contour, each ridge, before turning your attention to his arms.

Those were another story altogether...

The thick, sturdy flesh of his biceps tense under your touch, rippling as your fingers pushing into them, testing how firm they really are.

answer: very.

Your nails rake down his arm, drawing over his veins, and he sucks in a sharp breath, feeling his cock grow painfully hard.

You notice, and tug his boxers off, gasping when you see his cock spring free.

It's huge. It's long and thick and veiny, flushed red at the tip with pent up energy. You bring your hand to stroke it as gently as possible, and he hisses, hips startling when you make contact with his dick

"baby," he pleads, using one hand to cup your jaw, tilting your head up to face him, "say it again"

You're confused for a moment before realisation hits.

He wanted you to say that you-

"I love you," you state, loud and clear.

His eyes darken, jaw tensing as he grits out, "again."

Mingyu pushes you down, laying you on your back, and you speak, voice meeker than before.

"I love you,"

He let's out a shaky breath.

"again"

"I love y-"your voice is a whisper now, cutting off into a stunned gasp when he pushes into you.

"oh my god," you tremble, your voice small and frail.

The girth of his cock is nothing like you've ever felt before- not with other men, not even with the toys you use. He eases himself into your tight cunt, going as slowly as his body let's him, and your eyes screw shut.

"uh uh, eyes on me,"

You look up at him, eyes wide as your brows scrunch up. Your jaw falls slack, and you can't stop your throat from opening up to release the filthiest sounds known to man.

"that's it, shh- takin' me so good," he shudders, eyes honed in on the way your face contorts in pleasure.

With each inch his pushes further, your thoughts disappear one by one, until all that's left is him.

"Mingyu" you choke out, nails clawing at his exposed back, "I love you"

Whatever seemed to have been holding him back snaps for good, and he bottoms out in one swift motion, earning a loud moan in response.

You feel your lungs burn as he pulls all the air out of you, feel how deep he is inside you.

Mingyu pulls out, leaving only the head of his cock inside you, before slamming back in, one hand on your hip, pulling your body closer, harder.

His head drops to the spot below your ear and he let's his teeth graze the delicate cartilage.

"I love you," he whispers, his breath sending shivers down your spine. "I love you so much,"

Angling his hips, he pulls your thighs up over his back, and his cock burrows deeper inside you, hitting a spot no one ever has before.

"Mingy- oh my godd" you drawl, voice shaking as he thrusts into you with force enough to power a tiny village.

The sheer girth of his cock has your walls pressing into him, squeezing so tight you can feel each ridge and furrow of his veins.

"so fuckin' perfect- m-made just for me-" His voice is a whisper. He pants into your ear, groaning everytime you squeeze around him.

The solid, steady snap of his hips into you has your head spinning. His size has you losing your mind, and soon enough, you're thoughts are limited to him.

"Mingyu Mingyu Mingyu-" you sob, tears streaming down your face at how he abuses your cunt, how he makes you feel so fucking good.

"I know, pretty, I know," he soothes, pressing a kiss to the spot under your ear, before pulling himself up to look at you again.

The sight before him has his eyes widening. It's as if his world stops. Hair fluttering around your face, skin glistening with a thin film of sweat, lips red and parted as you moan his name through thick sobs and teary, glistening eyes- fuck, how could a person be this beautiful?

"I love you," he shudders, looking you in the eye as his hand trails down to fiddle with your clit, rubbing lazy circles into the flesh.

Your head falls back, tipping into the pillows, and you choke out a strangled- "I love y- m'all yours Mingyu"

Gaining newfound access to your throat, Mingyu kisses greedily at the exposed skin, groaning as your cunt clenches down around him.

Your sounds- nothing short of pure sin- echo around the room, bouncing off the walls. The air is heavy, steaming up with the heat emanating off of your bodies. After all this time, the wait is over. He's finally yours.

As your moans turn shrill, increasing in volume and pitch, Mingyu's own voice grows breathier, and you know you're both close.

On the verge of falling deep into the cool black embrace of pleasure, you clutch desperately at each other, rutting into one another as if there was no tomorrow.

His thrusts grow sloppy as your cunt clamps down on him, and you feel your orgasms rip out of you like a whirlwind. You claw at his back as your body shakes under him, releasing your third orgasm, and he groans deeply into, riding through his own high.

Hot spurts of cum dribble out of you, forming a frothy white ring around the base of his cock- still thrusting into you.

"f-fuck Ming- please," you blubber, tears staining your cheeks, "s'too much-"

His hips halt their reckless movement, and he pulls out of you, watching as your combined orgasms trickle out of your hole.

"too much?" he asks, bringing a hand up to stroke you cheek so lovingly your heart melts.

"mhm," You nuzzle into his palm, "but it was perfect."

For a moment he stares into your eyes, guilt panging in his chest at how you look at him with so much love, despite all that he's done.

"we'll talk over breakfast tomorrow, hm? let's just- let's just stay like this for now"

You nod, letting your eyes flutter closed, and he shuffles beside you, pulling your limp frame into his chest.

The haphazard thudding of his heart tells you how nervous he is, how he's afraid to lose you, and you smile.

"hey," he mumbles, sleep taking over.

You hum and it reverberate in his chest.

"I love you"

"I love you too, Gyu"

"I'll spend the rest of my life making up for how we started," he places a soft kiss to your forehead and you mumble something incomprehensible, already drifting off to sleep.

A fond smile takes over his lips, and he sighs.

You're the best thing to have happened to him.

#seventeen #seventeen smut #svt smut #smut #kim mingyu #anon ask #mingyu smut #kim mingyu smut #mingyu x reader #mingyu #mingyu is an asshole but he feels bad #kpop writers #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #seventeen mingyu

[whateversawesome]

Let's Talk About Yor

Something is going on with Yor lately. Have you noticed it too?

Even though she wasn't in every chapter of the latest big arc (Wheeler-Yuri-Twilight confrontation), the arc started with her and ended with her and I think there's a reason for that.

As I mentioned before, Yor is a very emotionally intelligent character. She surpasses Twilight on this, who struggles with his own emotions and the emotions of others too.

So the way Yor works is by becoming aware of an emotion or a change within herself and then she reflects on that. Then, things happen to her and she reflects some more about that issue or emotion, which is usually connected to the things that are happening around her.

Example: Look at the chapters leading to the cruise arc. Fiona showed up and Yor started questioning her place in the Forger family. Everything seemed to be cleared out during that same visit, but then Loid went to a tennis tournament with Fiona and Yor kept thinking about this. When the tennis challenge happened, even though Yor won, this didn't make her feel better, quite the opposite. Finally, Loid reassured her during that date in the bar, right after he got kicked on the chin.

That should have been it, right? Wrong. More things kept happening to Yor and she kept thinking about her place in the world, whether or not she should keep her assassin job until we finally get to that moment when she realizes her reason to keep on living and protecting is her family.

I get the feeling we're now at a similar point in the manga. Somehow everything keeps pointing to Yor, specifically to Yor and her relationship with Loid. Look at what's happening to Yor and tell me what you think is coming:

1.That chat with her office friends about gripes, marriage and welcome home kisses.

2.The welcome home kiss that never happened when she got home.

3."The fight" she had with Loid, or more specifically: thinking about her husband while he was shot by Yuri. (Those sad eyes said a lot!).

4.That honest talk she had with Twilight where she tells him she wants to take care of him.

5.Her chat with Yuri, where her brother asked her if she loves Loid.

6.Meeting the Authens, a real marriage, and seeing them kiss. (The Authens' Theory here.)

See what I mean? If we take into consideration the way Yor grows as a character and the way she realizes things, then where is this heading?

It's clear Yor is about to realize she has feelings for Loid!

The way the story keeps pointing at a kiss with giant arrows is not a coincidence. For Yor, who is inexperienced, a kiss would mean true love and a real marriage (which is what she wants). If the almost kiss didn't happen at the beginning of the story (when Yuri visited) is because back then, the marriage wasn't real. Maybe they liked each other and a little more, but they had just met.

Now about the first twiyor kiss...we'll you can read my theory on that here. And I'd like to add a little more...

I know I said I wanted it to happen in the movie, but I admit I was being waaaay too optimistic about it. Sadly, I don't think it'll happen in the movie. Like some of you mentioned, that moment belongs to the manga and I agree.

However, all that is happening with Yor is leading to that kiss. I still believe she'll be the one who takes that step and will be the one who kisses Twilight. I insist; it's part of her character arc, which is about gaining confidence in herself, becoming a woman, and feeling worthy of love.

At this point, she's on the verge of figuring out her own feelings and after that happens, she needs to accept them and then figure out how she wants to proceed. I believe it won't be an easy task for her. Knowing Yor, she won't want to inconvenience Loid and impose her feelings on him. She also won't want to risk what she already has: her family. So it will take a while and maybe a little encouragement (maybe from the Authens?) to get to the point of actually want to act on these feelings.

But it's coming.

#spy x family #twiyor #loid forger #yor forger #sxf #spy x family meta #spyxfamily #loidyor #loid x yor #spy x family anime #spy x family manga #spy x family theory #twilight #spy x family twilight #thorn princess

[kodydrs]

The Arrangement Baby - Gojo Satoru

a/n: don’t shoot. I swear part 4 is coming. So take this as a token of my love. Idk why, but i loved writing for Gojo. He’s so bbygirl. might as well reblog / comment, and feel free to send in a random request / ask

this is set like, just before gojo goes to Shibuya, so no angst (yet lol)

warnings: gojo x fem!reader, husband!gojo x wife!reader, arranged marriage, established relationship, soft smut, mdni, fxm, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it), pregnancy kink (maybe?), trying to get pregnant, they’re so in love your honour, kinda ooc gojo

ib: jasminn’s bot on Chai.

request: yes / no (but dedicated to @lvtilzs who has been here since day one)

‘You don't want this and I know you don't. Women can never really hide their emotions well, can they?‘ He jokes. It immediately earned him a glare, to which he waved his hands in defence. ‘Hold on. It's for the good of our clans, isn't it? I think we should think of it that way. You don't gotta love me, but you love your family, right?‘

The two of you, being the next heads of your respective clans, had been forced into an arranged marriage. It was supposedly to 'help build bonds’.

You sigh, seated on your knees with your hands on your lap.

‘If it builds bonds with the clans, then I will marry you, Gojo Satoru. But I cannot promise I will be able to learn to love you.‘

‘Hmm, I can respect that, my dear. But remember, we are bound together now. We must find a way to make this work, for the sake of our people.’

‘And we will. With our clans joined in this marriage, the strength of our family's will work.’

‘Indeed, my love. But don't forget that there is more to a marriage than just strength. There is also passion and desire. And as the head of our families, it is our duty to ensure that those needs are met.‘

You don't say anything. You just hum and nod. You hadn't looked at your husband. You'd only been informed he was to be your husband a few days prior.

Satoru took a step closer, his olden aura intensifying as he did so.

‘I must confess, however, that I'm rather excited for this night. To consummate our union and begin our lives together.‘ His eyes met yours for the first time since you'd sat down.

'Mhm.' You hum again, 6 eyes staring at you. 'I hope it will be for the best.'

Satoru chuckled softly, reaching out to gently brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

‘It will be, my love. Together, we'll make this work.‘

You close your eyes, focusing on his touch. You reach for his hand, running your thumb over his knuckles.

Feeling the warmth of your touch, Satoru squeezed your hand gently.

‘We have our entire lives ahead of us, filled with shared experiences and growth. Remember that.‘ For the first time, a smile crosses your face and you feel a sense of warmth in his presence. ‘That's my girl,‘ he whispered, leaning in to press a soft kiss against your forehead.

You lean into his kiss, watching as he pulls back. ‘Satoru.‘

‘Yes, my love?‘ He asked, his voice soft and inviting.

‘Let's take this slow, ok?‘

Satoru nodded, understanding the request.

‘Of course, sweetheart. We'll take things at your pace.‘ His eyes held a promise of patience and care as he reassured you.

It had been almost 6 months since your marriage. You and Gojo were currently living together near the Highschool in order for him to be able to teach his students. You had a simple life where you stayed at home, going on a few missions for your clan here and there.

You were sitting in your living room, reading a book when the front door opened.

‘My dear, I'm home,‘ Satoru called out as he stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

‘I'm in the living room.' You called, placing your book down.

‘Alright, sweetheart,‘ he replied with a soft chuckle before walking into the living room. His eyes met yours as he approached, a warm smile on his face. ‘How was your day?‘

'Boring. Not much happened. There were no missions for me.'

‘Well, that's good news,‘ Satoru replied with a gentle smile. ‘You deserve a break from all that danger and chaos.‘ He walked over to sit beside you on the couch, his arm brushing against yours in a subtle show of affection.

You leaned against him, tracing his knuckles. It was a habit you'd picked up. There was just something mesmerising about your husband's hands.

'How was your day?'

‘It was... fine.' His eyes followed your hand on his, watching you trace the bones. 'I may have to go away for a little while though. Something has come up.'

'Oh... ok.' It wasn't that Satoru didn't go away often, but you couldn't deny the house felt empty when he wasn't around. 'Do you need me to do anything while you're away?'

‘No, sweetheart, don't worry about it.‘ he reassured you with a soft smile. ‘I'll be back before you know it.‘ He leaned in to press a gentle kiss against your forehead. ‘Now, have you eaten?‘

You shake your head, leaning into the kiss.

‘Well, then,‘ Satoru chuckled softly, ‘Let's fix that. I'll make us something delicious.‘ He stood up from the couch, his strong presence filling the room as he moved towards the kitchen. You also stand, following after him.

‘What would you like?‘ Satoru asked as he pulled out a skillet from the kitchen drawer and began to heat it up on the stove top.

'I don't mind.' You reply, sitting upon the counter as you watch him get to work

‘Okay, consider it done then.‘ Satoru chuckled softly as pulled out some vegetables from the fridge and began to chop them up with quick, precise movements.

It wasn't long before the meal was ready. You thanked him for the meal and both sat at the table to eat.

'So, what's this mission for?'

‘Well, there's been a sudden increase in occult activity around the city,‘ He explained as he took a bite of his food. ‘It seems that some powerful spirits have been unleashed, and we need to find out who's behind it.‘

You nod, taking another mouthful of your food.

‘Will it be a hard mission?'

‘It might be,‘ Satoru admitted with a frown. ‘But don't worry, I'll make sure nothing happens to you.‘ He reached out and gently squeezed your hand reassuringly. You nodded, a hint of anxiety creeping up on you. After finishing their meal, Satoru cleared the dishes and began to clean up while you sat at the table, lost in thought. He could feel your tension but didn't want to push you further into worry just yet.

‘Hey,‘ Satoru said softly, coming up behind you and placing his hands gently on your shoulders. ‘Don't think about that right now. Just enjoy this moment with me.‘ He leaned down to press a gentle kiss against the nape of your neck.

Satoru slowly pulled away, his hands remaining lightly on your shoulders. You hummed, holding his hands over your shoulders. ‘Satoru?‘

‘Yes, love?‘

‘Do you want to have a baby?‘

Silence filled the room, and Satoru froze, his heart skipping a beat. He hadn't expected that question, especially not now.

‘I...,‘

‘You don’t have to answer right now. It’s just an idea.’

‘No. No. I… I do.’ He said carefully.

‘Mhm.‘ A soft smile covered your face. ‘That way, our clans really would be connected. A child with blood from both clans.‘

Satoru couldn't help but return your smile, his eyes meeting yours. ‘Yes, that's true,‘ He agreed, his voice filled with warmth. ‘But I'd rather have a baby because you want to have one. Not just to further strengthen the bond of our clans.‘

Your smile grows and you turn to face him. ‘I want to have your baby, Satoru.‘

His heart skipped a beat as he stared into your eyes, feeling a surge of emotion swell up within him. He leaned in, his lips barely brushing against yours in a gentle kiss. ‘Thank you.‘

Your hands took his and brought them to his face, reciprocating his kiss. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer as he deepened the kiss, pouring all of his feelings for you into the exchange. He pulled away, breathless and giddy.

‘I love you,‘ He whispered, his eyes filled with adoration.

Your eyes widen slightly. In your many months of marriage, neither of you have once said those 3 words. But it made your heart warm, and your husband was practically glowing.

‘I love you, too.‘

Satoru smiled wide, pulling you into another tender kiss.

‘I'm so glad you said that,‘ he murmured against your lips. He pulled away, still holding your hands in his. ‘We should head upstairs,‘

‘Mhm.‘ You agreed, taking his hand.

Together, the two of you made your way upstairs, their hands entwined like a lifeline. They shared a tender moment as they reached the top, exchanging loving glances before continuing down the hallway to their bedroom.

You'd had sex a few times since marriage, but something about this time felt different. It felt more meaningful

As they undressed, Satoru couldn't help but admire your naked body, his eyes tracing every inch of you. He loved you with all his heart and soul and wanted to make this experience together beautiful and eternal. You pulled him down, kissing him passionately with your chests pressed together. which made him moan softly, his body responding eagerly to your touch.

He wrapped his arms around you, deepening their connection as they continued to share their newfound love through passionate kisses and tender caresses.

‘You're so beautiful, Satoru.' You moaned, losing your hands in his white hair.

‘Thank you, love,‘ he whispered against your lips, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on your skin. He gently pushed you down onto the bed, following you down as his lips and hands explored every inch of your body.

Quiet whimpers filled the room, and you propped yourself onto your elbows, watching him travel around your skin. His eyes met yours, filled with love and desire as he continued his sensual exploration, his kisses trailing down your body while his hands roamed gently over your skin. His heart pounded in anticipation of the connection they were about to share once more.

You brought one hand to his head, stroking through his hair again. As he felt your hand in his hair, he leaned down, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, suckling gently as he moaned against your skin. His other hand began to caress between your legs, teasingly rubbing against your sensitive folds. You moaned breathlessly, back arched.

‘Oh, Satoru,‘ you breathed, arching your back even further as he continued to please you. Your body trembled with anticipation as he moved to probe against your entrance. slowly pushed inside, filling you with his love and desire. 'Fuck. You're good to me.'

‘I am yours.‘ He whispered against your skin, their bodies moving together in a rhythm of love and need. His fingers dug into your hips, urging him deeper inside as they became lost in their passionate connection.

Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, holding on tightly like he'd run away if you didn't. Satoru held onto you just as tightly, his lips finding the sensitive skin behind your ear as he continued to thrust into you. Their bodies moved together in perfect harmony, creating a symphony of moans and gasps that filled the room.

'Please, Satoru.' You whispered, voice breaking. 'Please let me have your baby?

Hearing your plea, Satoru's heart swelled with love and desire. He pulled out of you slightly before pushing back in harder, claiming you completely once more. ‘Our baby,‘ he corrected softly against your skin, his voice thick with emotion. You nodded rapidly, hiding your face in his neck as you reached your high, a symphony of moans filling his ears.

He held you close, their bodies moving together in a frenzy of passion. He felt you shudder beneath him, your walls clenching tightly around him. Your body rocked back and forth, following in time with your husband's thrusts.

‘I'm here,‘ Satoru whispered, feeling his own climax building within him. He could feel the head of his cock brushing against your sweet spot, teasing and taunting you both.

'I-I can feel you.' You whimpered, tears wetting your eyes. His breath hitched as he felt you tremble under him.

‘Our baby will be so loved,‘ he whispered against your skin before giving one final, powerful thrust that sent them both over the edge.

A flurry of moans filled the house, both of you holding each other like you're going to disappear.

Gasping for breath, Satoru held onto you tightly as his seed filled you completely. Their bodies trembled together, still joined in intimacy even as their lungs tried to catch their breath.

You looked at him, panting deeply, but still able to plant a gentle kiss to his cheek.

'Our baby will be the strongest. Just like their daddy.’

Satoru returned the kiss softly, his eyes filled with love for you. He leaned in closer, nuzzling your neck as he held you close.

‘I love you,‘ he whispered against your skin, his heart racing from their passionate lovemaking.

You laughed quietly, rubbing his shoulders and back. 'Don't say it too much, Satoru. It'll lose its meaning.’

He smiled at your teasing remark, feeling the warmth spread through him. He continued to hold onto you, savouring the closeness they shared after their intense lovemaking session.

‘I couldn't help myself,‘ he said softly, his eyes still locked on yours. Hands held his face, caressing his skin.

'I love you too, Satoru Gojo.'

© kodydrs

all rights and reserves are copyright to kodydrs on tumblr. this material is not to be copied or translated, and is not to be posted on any other platform.

#kody​☆ #kodydrs #kody’s corner #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #gojo saturo #gojo smut #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru x reader smut #jjk spoilers #jjk fanart #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk season 2 #jjk x you #jjk leaks

[raysrays]

Crimson Guardian NSFW

Kyojuro Rengoku x Wife! Reader

18+ MDNI!🚫

CW: NSFW Content, minor angst, controlling/manipulating behavior, fluff-ish.

Y/N POV

Scenario : You've recently married into the respected Rengoku family, and while you continue your work as a demon slayer, life starts to get a bit messy. Balancing your duties becomes a real challenge as you navigate the challenges of married life. You find yourself having to make tough choices just to keep your husband happy, all while debating to stay true to yourself and your calling as a demon slayer.

Marriage. Truly one of the most beautiful milestones a couple can achieve. Marrying Kyojuro has undoubtedly been my greatest accomplishment.

I still remember it vividly, as if it were yesterday. Surrounded by friends, family, and core members, we pledged our lives to each other. Though it wasn't the most glamorous wedding ever seen, it was enough. Because really, all I've ever wanted was Kyojuro, and now, finally, I have him.

For the first few months, our marriage was nothing short of perfect. I moved into the Rengoku estate with Kyojuro's family, assisting Shenjuro with chores and gradually trying to get closer to Shinjuro. Though I'm not sure how successful I was.

It was only six months in that I realized being a demon slayer and a wife wasn't as easy as I thought.

Before our relationship, I was Kyojuro's Tsuguko. He was simply my mentor, and I trained hard under him to get myself where I am today. It was later down the road that we noticed each other's lingering gazes, the occasional flirting, and all the other subtle hints of wanting to be more.

Kyojuro was strong, and I knew he wanted a family, but I simply wasn't ready to give up training and my duties as a demon slayer just yet.

Every day, after helping out around the estate, I would hike over to HQ and pick up where I had left off the previous day, training until the late hours of the night. I would often come home exhausted, which usually caused Kyojuro to worry. As much as I reassured him, he never seemed fully convinced.

Now, here I was, sitting at the dinner table with Kyo across from me. It was a rare occasion for us to eat alone together like this. We made small talk about our day and training, and then he finally stopped eating and put his silverware down.

"Little Flame, I think it’s time we have a serious discussion about the way things have been as of late,” his usual happy smile seemed almost nervous.

I set my spoon down on my plate, giving him my full attention.

“Yes? What is it?”

“Sunflower, you have been working so hard as of late, and it’s quite admirable. I truly admire your dedication to the demon slayer corps and your training!”

“But…?” I ask, confused.

“But… since our marriage, I’ve found myself in constant worry over you. Every time you go on a mission without me, I have to painfully wait for your return. Not knowing whether or not you'd be injured or even-“

“Dead?” I finish.

I saw his body tense up at the word.

“Yes, my love. Dead. I cannot even bear the thought of you never returning to me. It pains me to my core,” he seemed so sad, so worried about me.

I know Kyojuro, I know he didn’t mean anything bad by what he was saying. However, I felt almost offended. He too was a slayer, a hashira. I also had to deal with the fear of him returning with serious injuries or even never returning at all.

Did he believe me to be incapable of protecting myself? He was the very one who trained me. Even though I knew Kyojuro was strong, much stronger than me, it just felt like he lacked faith in me.

“You don’t think I’m strong enough anymore? Do you think marriage has made me soft?” I realized I might have come off a little too harsh, but my emotions were getting the best of me.

His expression seemed surprised, but I could tell. While he may not have used those words, that was definitely the gist of it.

I watched him get up from his place at the table and walk over to me. He pulled my chair out from under the table, then grabbed my hands and kneeled down in front of me.

His big, bright eyes were now staring up at me.

“You are one of the strongest people I know, my love. I know how capable you are, but please remember…”

He brought my hands to his lips, kissing them softly.

“You are my wife before you are a demon slayer. I cannot risk sending you off only for you to never return.”

I could practically hear the desperation and love in his voice.

Kyojuro wasn’t someone who would usually discourage anyone from pursuing something they're passionate about. So if he was now, I knew that it’s something he’s been internally battling with for a while.

“What about you? Is it not the same? What about my worry? What if you never come home to me?” I could feel my face start to heat up. Everything he was saying seemed to come from genuine care, but it felt so hypocritical.

“I am a Hashira, my little flame. I have a certain responsibility you do not have to burden yourself with. I shall retire soon, in just a few years. So please…”

There’s no way he’d ask me-

“Please retire your sword, Y/N. Please stay home for me. Please allow my heart to rest easy knowing you'll be here waiting for me whenever I shall return,” his voice was pleading.

I felt so conflicted. I’d worked so hard. All of these years of training to hopefully become a high-ranking swordsman myself. However, at the same time, I never stopped to consider my romantic life and how being married would affect things.

We both sat there in silence for a few moments, and I finally rose up from the chair, pulling him up off his knees along with me.

I looked up at him, reaching my hand up to rest on his cheek.

“Kyojuro, you are the only one I would retire my sword for. So please promise me, promise me you will always come home to me. Until the day you yourself retire.”

“I promise you, Sunflower. As long as I know you are safe and waiting for me, there is no demon that could ever keep me away.”

I felt his hand on my lower back and the other holding up my chin.

We both leaned in, our lips meeting in a tender kiss.

This kiss started so gently, so lovingly at first. As we pulled away for just a moment, staring into each other’s eyes, we realized how long it had been since we really enjoyed each other’s company.

After that, the kiss only grew hotter and more passionate.

Kyojuro swept me off my feet and carried me straight to our shared room at the back of the estate, the most private spot. It seemed fitting for newlyweds, after all.

As he gently laid me back on the soft futon, I couldn't help but stay focused on him. Kyojuro was simply beautiful. His hair, his eyes, his body, everything about him looked like he was perfectly sculpted.

My admiration was interrupted as I felt him begin to kiss me again. One of his hands traveling to my breasts, gently squeezing it.

The other massaging my thigh.

I feel him pull away from me starting to kiss on my neck traveling all the way down to my chest.

Kyojuro had always known my weak points and how to make me say yes to his every request. He knew my body just as well as I did, and now he was taking full advantage of that knowledge.

I could feel him pressing against me as he moved his hand down my body, lightly touching me. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer to me, wanting more.

Then I heard, Kyojuro's soft voice whisper these words, almost as a demand. "Enjoy this little flame, you've kept me waiting far too long.”

As soon as those words left his lips, I felt myself begin to relax. His movements were so gentle, so careful, so loving.

His fingers trailed down my sides, sending chills through my body. His hands went back up and caressed my neck, making me tremble. He kissed me once more, and I melted into him.

It was as if he had cast a spell over me, and all I could do was obey him. He was completely in control of me.

After a moment, I felt him move back down and remove my underwear, revealing my already wet entrance. His hand slid between my thighs, and I couldn't help but let out a moan as his finger slipped inside me. He was gentle at first, just barely grazing me, but it felt incredible.

"Is this okay?" he asked softly, his breath hot against my ear.

I nodded but I could tell that wasn’t enough for him.

“Use your words my love.” He demanded sweetly.

“Yes Kyo, it’s perfect.” I said, my voice trembling.

He leaned down and kissed my lips before pulling back again, smiling at me.

"I want to be inside of you," he whispered, his voice filled with desire.

"Please," I begged.

He removed his fingers, replacing them with his cock, his tip rubbing against my clit.

"Good girl," he whispered, thrusting into me.

I threw back my head, arching my back and digging my nails into his shoulders. His movements were slow and deep at first and then they became faster and harder, and soon my whole body began to shake. I couldn't stop the moans from escaping my lips, and I couldn't help but beg for more.

When he starts to speed up I know we are both about to reach our limit.

I feel his fingers interlock with mine and his lips pressing against mine again, but this time, he wasn’t just kissing me, he was also letting his teeth graze my bottom lip.

He was biting down hard enough to draw blood.

We were both so close and we were both trying to hold back but we couldn’t anymore. We were finally going to let ourselves release.

I was the first one to let myself go, arching my back as I moaned his name.

Then he followed not too far behind.

After he finishes, we just lay there for a bit catching our breath.

“I love you, Y/N,” he finally breathed out, turning his head to look at me.

I turned to face him as well. “I love you, Kyojuro.”

After that, the two of us drifted off in each other's arms for the rest of the night.

The next morning when I awoke, I was still trapped wrapped in Kyojuro's arms.

After a bit of struggling, I managed to maneuver my way out and make it to the kitchen.

There I saw Senjuro, who was already preparing breakfast for everyone.

“Good morning, Sen,” I greeted with a yawn.

“Oh, good morning, Y/N!”

“I'm almost finished with breakfast. Is my brother awake yet?”

“He should be awake soon. We both have to see Master Kagaya today,” I said, rubbing my eyes.

He stopped to turn and look at me.

“Did something bad happen?” he asked nervously.

Poor Senjuro always assumes the absolute worst in every situation. Well, I suppose in this case it’s somewhat understandable.

“No, Sen, nothing's wrong. Kyojuro and I are just going to inform Master Kagaya of my retirement. That’s all.”

He gave a puzzled look.

“Retirement? Why? Haven’t you been training for years to improve your sword skills to move up in the ranks?” he asked.

He was right. I know I shouldn’t go back on my word to Kyojuro, but I really was having second thoughts about my decision.

Senjuro could probably sense my doubt because his next response was:

"If this is something that you're not sure of, then you shouldn't do it. If you have doubts about this decision, then maybe you're not ready for retirement just yet."

His words really struck a chord with me.

Maybe he was right.

Before I could ponder that any further, Kyojuro had made his way into the kitchen.

"Good morning! How are my two favorite people doing?" he said cheerfully.

I smiled.

"Morning, Kyo. Did you sleep well?"

"I did, actually. Thank you, little flame," he walked over to me, giving me a kiss.

I could feel my chest tightening, nervous about what was to come.

The whole time at breakfast, I felt so spaced out. All I could hear was Kyojuro and Senjuro talking and the occasional grunt from Shinjuro drinking away at the table.

“Sunflower? Are you okay?”

I was snapped out of my daze by Kyojuro waving a hand in front of my face. All three of them were staring at me, kind of concerned.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Sorry.”

I shook my head a little and looked down at my plate. I felt bad for Senjuro going through all that trouble to cook, but I simply couldn’t eat right now.

After we finished breakfast, Kyojuro and I headed out.

The thought that this would be the last time wearing my uniform with my sword by my side was so weird and almost uncomfortable to me.

I knew that this day would come eventually, but I always hoped in the back of my mind that Kyojuro would be the one to retire before me.

I had been so focused on training and my duties as a demon slayer that it had never even occurred to me how my marriage would affect everything.

I was now a wife. My first priority should be the estate, and helping Shinjuro while he was in his state of grief, and being there for Senjuro as well.

It wouldn’t be right of me to go against my husband's wishes either. Especially after the intimate moment we shared. Right?

As we made it to HQ waiting to speak with the master I felt my heartbeat racing inside of me.

The room was quiet, I could feel Kyojuro’s eyes lingering on me but I couldn’t bring myself to face him right now.

Both mine and Kyojuro’s attention was shifted as we heard the door open and Master Kagaya entered the room.

"Rengoku, Y/N. It's a pleasure to see you both," Kagaya said, his face as warm as ever.

"It's wonderful to see you too, Master," I replied.

"So what brings you two here? It seems urgent, judging by the fact that you came in so early."

"It is very urgent," Kyojuro began.

He then proceeded to explain our conversation from the night before, and how I was considering retiring.

"Y/N, this is a big decision, and it's important that you feel comfortable and confident in it. Do you think you can fully retire, knowing you won't be able to assist the demon slayers as you are now?" Kagaya asked.

I looked at the master and then glanced at Kyojuro. He seemed so proud and happy that we were here. I could feel the warmth radiating from him.

But, I could also sense the worry in his expression. He was nervous, scared almost.

I couldn't do that to him.

"Master, I've spent most of my life training for the opportunity to become a hashira. To serve the demon slayer corps and protect those who cannot protect themselves. But...I'm no longer just a demon slayer. I'm also a wife, and as such, I think it's only right that I focus on that," I answered.

The room fell silent for a moment.

"If you truly feel this is the right choice, then we support you, Y/N," Kagaya finally spoke.

"Thank you, Master," I bowed.

"Thank you so much, Master! I will never

forget your kindness!" Kyojuro bowed as well.

The two of us left the room and started to head out.

As we exited, we ran into a few of the other Hashira, who asked us about what we had gone to see Master Kagaya about.

They too seemed surprised and a little concerned when Kyojuro explained to them that I would be retiring so soon.

I could tell some of their reactions to the news annoyed Kyojuro. Shinobu used the word “controlling,” and you could see his smile almost falter.

"Controlling" was never a word I would have used to describe my husband. He just loves me, right? He wants to protect me. There's no way my sweet and kind Kyo would ever do anything to control or manipulate me.

Right?

Part Two

#demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #fanfic #kimetsu no yaiba #kny rengoku #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku x reader #x reader #kny #kny hashira #yandere rengoku #yandere #light angst #rengoku x y/n #rengoku smut #kny kyojuro #kny smut #smut #kyojuro rengoku x reader #kyojuro rengoku #kny x reader #demon slayer rengoku #demon slayer smut #kyojuro x reader #kimestu no yaiba #anime #hashira x reader #fluff #oneshot #headcanon

[vagabond-umlaut]

it's easy to ferry souls, not carry them

deep down in the realm of the netherworlds, there exists a rower who transports deceased souls from the land of living to the land of dead-

and occasionally lends an ear and a hand, in the event of yet another collision between their weary queen and her just as cheery suitor...

[uraume deserves a raise.]

▸gojo satoru x fem!reader; the tale of kore!gojo & hades!reader w a guest appearance by charon!uraume; uraume is a very nice parental figure to you [ooc!uraume but ehh]; the reader is honestly so sweet and hot-tempered...; the cutest doggy cerberus too is there!!!!; gojo satoru must be his own warning...; uraume does not like gojo [no parent [blood-related or not] actually wld]; fire hazards; 2k wc

▸ i've nvr read percy jackson and wtv i wrote here is based on my shaky knowledge of greek myths and stuff 😁😁 anyways, this header's from pinterest, these dividers are by @benkeibear and the characters used ain't mine. pls do not plagiarize, translate or repost this. enjoy reading! ❤️

▸ belongs to series 'wreaths of asphodel' – same universe as the work 'hey, where is the pomegranate tree?' — but you can treat this as a stand-alone fic if you wanna!

"why is kore so set on marrying me, uraume?"

it isn't the ask itself which causes the rower to nearly lose grip of their oar– but the way it is spoken: soft, solemn and faintly tense. they look away from the endless expanse of the styx before, to find you staring at your reflection in the inky waters, features unnaturally crumpled.

uraume holds back a frown. "has her majesty considered asking the god the same?"

"i have asked him," you mumble, "but i did not receive any conclusive answer in return. the imp was being too vague– must be a trait learnt from those shifty nymphs always sticking to his side."

if your faithful follower detects anything except dislike in your words, they make no mention of it. merely humming as they continue to row the boat, "and may this servant know the question her majesty asked the god?"

"two," you mumble even more clumsily now; they take a beat to grasp it, too concerned by the way you drape yourself over the edge, nearly falling into the water as you say, "i asked him two questions— one, if he loves me; two, if he wants to have children should we get married."

shock must not be uraume's first reaction to these queries, yet it is— and for a moment, it isn't you sitting there anymore.

instead, it is a little girl, no older than seven or eight years, cherubic face fixed in a look of deep concentration and fascination while the rower narrates to her stories from times millennia ago–

only for the child to morph into a young lady– no, goddess– the very next beat... slouched under a regal cloak too heavy for her shoulders, under a royal crown too large for her head... that sweet innocence of childhood nothing but traces now, having been withered by the foul, dirty politics of those damned deities high up on that mountain—

"what answers did the olympian offer her majesty?"

"he said he would love me and sire my children if that is what i want— i asked if he wished anything out of our union— he said all he wanted is to be my husband–"

something between a frustrated sigh and an exhausted scoff erupts from you, becoming an opaque fog the moment it hits the frigid air of the underworld. uraume plucks the oar out the water to come sit next to you, letting the boat be driven by magic.

"you're worried," they state, forgoing all formalities in favour of giving you some much-needed comfort. you never much cared for stations anyways, quite unlike your elder brother, the former king.

"an unfamiliar friend poses more risk than a familiar enemy, uraume," you mutter, resting your head on their shoulder, "why do you think kore wishes to marry me so much, if not out of love or the prospect of the powerful offsprings we might beget?"

"marriage is not solely for love or for procreation," the rower starts to explain, mildly amused before it grows into sympathy at your baffled expression.

ah, they muse fondly, not unlike a parent watching their child witness the world seemingly the first time ever since they learnt to walk, you who presides over something as profound as death yet knows not of the trivialities of life...

"it can also be for many other reasons like–"

the remainder of the words skitter away from uraume— cerberus is playing with gojo.

the fierce guard of the netherworlds, the three-headed hound, loyal and dutiful to a fault: hades' dearest canine companion is frolicking with the god of life in a green meadow, that most certainly was not there so close to the stygian marsh, when they last—

"gojo is laughing," your remark draws them away from their musings, only to find a changed shadow over your countenance— pensive yet not thinking at all; almost as if you too are floating in the stale air of your kingdom akin the soft flower petals...

another ring of raucous laughter pierces the silence, mingled with a delighted series of barks— cerberus is busy licking gojo's face now, the olympian reduced to a puddle of giggles as he scratches behind the dog's ears.

his happiness so clear in the stretch of his grin and the crinkle of his eyes, very much the jarring contrast to the last time—

oh. oh, oh, oh–

"escape," the word leaves uraume in a sudden moment of realisation, as quiet as a breath but loud enough for you to whip your head back to face them, confusion engraved into your scowl. "escape?? what is that supposed to mean, eh?"

the rower feels their lips lift into an infrequent smile. "the god of life wishes to marry you to escape— from his mother, or from his many suitors, or perhaps from mount olympus itself."

"wha– how– hah," you breathe out a disbelieving little huff, "that is simply ridiculous. have you even heard yourself? that is ridiculous."

used to such resistance from yourself, even more from your brother, they move to state their points, only to beaten by you as you persist to speak.

"no one in their right mind will decide to come live in the underworld, no matter how overbearing their mother or insistent their suitors are. have you seen this place? it's too, too unlike the lushness of the earth or the grandeur of the heavens he has experienced. and–" you add, a harsh laugh accompanying it. "gojo satoru is a god. a fish might leave the water— but a god never steps a voluntary foot down that horrible mountain. never."

"but the olympian never truly lived on mount olympus," uraume says once they're sure you've completed your tirade, "and you are a goddess as well. why do you speak so ill of the heavens then?"

"why?" you echo the word. they nod, hoping you take the bait they've intended for you. you do.

"why, because that place is nothing but a shining apple with a rotten core!! everything is polished marble and glittering gold there. people constantly wave at each other, lavishing smiles and praises like there is no tomorrow. everything is so warm and bright— what a bunch of lies and liars!"

familiar fire burns in your aura, the immense heat making the waters erupt into boiling— uraume uses their powers to cool the river down, lest anything disturbs you.

you're too far gone in your rage to be shaken, however, continuing:

"but it never can hide the grime and dirt accrued beneath such shine and sheen. nor the vicious minds and crooked hearts of those deities up above– what lame excuses of gods and goddesses, hah. and you might think me to prefer the light and warmth up there— you will be sorely wrong, my dear uraume!! i much prefer the genuine darkness and frigidity of my beloved kingdom to the faux comfort of the awful mount olympus—"

"is there no possibility the god of life too despises mount olympus for these same reasons, milady?"

you open your mouth and close it, then open it again to let out a very aggrieved whine– momentarily transporting uraume to your younger days. the rower merely chuckles when you punch their arm lightly.

"you're the worst, uraume," you cry, getting up and moving to sit on the other end of the boat. the rower too rises but only to resume rowing the boat by the oar.

"you never spoke this way when sukuna was the ruler— only because his baby sister is the ruler now, and you think she is very stupid—"

"as much as i respect and revere lord sukuna, he wasn't one to listen to anyone else," uraume interrupts gently, "you do, though– which is why i spent so much time telling you this. i hope you did not mind."

"hey, no," you immediately wave away their concern with a wide grin, eliciting a smaller one from the latter, "i could never..."

another peal of laughter and barks rings through the otherwise-quiet. you abruptly trail off, the same conflicting expression from before on your face yet again. though not without a spark in your eyes, uraume notes, almost as if you're slowly learning how to solve the puzzle who is repeatedly offering himself to you.

uraume keeps the silence you initiate, choosing to row the boat while you keep staring at the assortment of hues near the stygian marsh...

until you call their name and declare, an odd firmness in your smile, "well then, it is decided. i shall allow gojo to stay here for as long as the god so wishes to, escaping whatever or whoever he is escaping. and i shall protect him from the latter, should it ever come for him."

a beat. your smile falls into something graver. "would it be better if i swore by the dread water of styx, uraume?"

"uh, um," the rower finds themselves at a loss of words, the first time in seemingly forever, and they have been around since titanomachy– but before they can recover themselves enough to formulate a proper reply, a giggly voice joins in—

"well, if my rose does that, i would consider myself the most blessed amongst all mortals and immortals!"

— and the waters surrounding the boat shoot upwards in a scathing geyser-like jet and steam— the ferocious queen of the netherworlds visibly torn between remorse and terror, as they offer uraume a stiff nod and gojo a horrified look, before vanishing in a wisp of fog.

the boiling waters of the river styx calm down only after a twenty-minute-long struggle by uraume, joined at the very end by gojo.

the latter looks positively delighted, when the former collapses to the bottom of the boat, exhausted beyond belief. "hey, charon. was that a result of your queen getting flustered by me, huh?"

yes, it was. it very much was, the sentences nearly slip past the tired rower's crumbling defences... until it hits them– who they serve, and who they don't.

uraume decides to throw back a glare and a lie. "her majesty was not flustered, lord kore. she was enraged at how you invaded the privacy of her weekly boat ride, intended to make her relax."

"oh, puh-lease," the god makes a face. the rower is certain he would have been punished in the pits of tartarus for all eternity, then some more were he to pursue you this way during your brother's reign, let alone disrespect you thus.

ignorant and insolent, he continues, "in few days time, i'll be allowed into the privacy of her living quarters; what is the privacy of her boat th—"

"you're lucky you did not make such outrageous remarks in front of the queen," uraume cuts him off, none too kindly nor gently, "if you did, her majesty would have certainly burnt you along with the boat to a crisp–"

"i know," comes the defeated reply within the instant. and while gojo is still not in uraume's good graces, the latter decides to notch him a level higher, considering the god of life accepts their queen's powers.

not many do.

he strikes a pathetically pitiful figure, uraume reckons, seeing him sit then slouch on the bench. "was she serious when she said she would protect me?"

your loyal subject nods, certain and solemn. "yes, she was. the queen is never careless when it comes to making promises."

"oh, that's reassuring," gojo says quietly— only to recline even further in the very next beat– an anguished, grating wail tearing from him to the stifling silence looming near the stygian marsh. uraume wonders if it is worth it to steer the boat towards acheron... then push him into its waters of woe...

they decide against it on catching the desperation worn by the god.

for all it is, it might nothing more than a ploy. yet something tugs at their mind to pause and listen when gojo howls, "why does my rose always scurry away after tilting my world on its axis? why does your queen always torment me like this, charon?"

uraume stares pensively at their face in the sacred waters of styx for a while. then heaves a mighty sigh.

certain, this exchange between the goddess of the dead and the god of life will impact not only your and gojo's respective worlds— but the general world and everyone else in it, as well.

did you know, in the actual greek myths, persephone was never called so before her marriage to hades? she got it only after, w the name meaning "bringer of death". her initial name was kore, referring to her being a maiden & the spring goddess.

the river styx was called the "dread river of oath" by homer– in both the iliad and the odyssey [greek epic poems], swearing by its waters is the "greatest and most dread oath for the blessed gods" -> this shows how serious the reader is towards ensuring gojo's safety and freedom, and how deeply this affects gojo as well [source: wiki 😇]

also: the reader is totally ready to jump into the water to swim away when she realises gojo was listening in on her conversations- but then she remembers she can js vanish away and so she does js tht— the queen of the underworld, and of escaping, hehe

also also: the reader is slightly jealous when she is talking of the shifty nymphs always sticking to gojo's side. [uraume identifies it; you think it is js your usual dislike to such frivolous things and ppl as flowers and nymphs etc.] [hades is emo imho 😊]

▸ masterlist

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #kit posts 📝

[thelov3lybookworm]

I Didn't Ask For This (Part 9)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Summary: Marriage had always been something sacred to little Y/n, something dream like, where her husband would come and whisk her away to a fairyland. At least, that's what she had always thought.

All her dreams would be shattered.

But maybe she can salvage them?

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: forced marriage, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

A/n: I've been soo excited to write this part, especially the ending. Despite the almost whole thing being erased because I didnt save it, I like this part. Hope you do too.

Enjoy!

•○🌑○•

Y/n smiled softly as she stared at the Sidra, standing next to Azriel while leaning against the railing of the bridge.

"It's very peaceful." She murmured.

"That it is. It feels more so at night, because there's more chaos nearby." He offered. She nodded.

They had been walking around the city for a couple of hours now, and it was almost dinnertime. They had decided to rest for a few moments before continuing. She was so tired that she was sure that her legs would fall off if she took another step. Obviously, she hadn't considered the consequences when she promised to spend the whole day with him.

The whole morning and afternoon was spent with him pointing at shops and telling her of how he and his brothers terrorised Velaris in their younger years. Y/n's stomach hurt from how much she had laughed. From those stories, she knew that most of his five hundred years had brought him happiness. And that made her happy, for a reason she didnt want to think of.

He tilted his body so he faced her more. "Where do you want to eat?"

"I don't know...can't you decide?" She glanced at him, quickly turning back to the river, because she couldn't look at him for more than a moment without blushing. Especially with the intensity with which he looked at her. As if she was the only person in the world and if he didn't pay attention to every word she said, he'd die.

She could feel him smile as he straightened. "There is this place along the banks of Sidra. Its the inner circle's current favourite place to eat."

"Okay." She mumbled as she turned to him. "How far is it?"

"Don't worry. I'll carry you."

"Excuse me?"

He grinned, turning away from her and giving her instructions to wrap her arms around his neck, ignoring her protests. She finally relented, his hands going under her thighs to hoist her up. He couldn't look at her, which she was glad for, because all he would've seen was the redness in her face.

She clutched him tighter as he started walking, mindful of his wings. He again started telling her stories.

"There used to be a restaurant there." He pointed to a tailoring shop with a jerk of his head. "When we ate there for the first time, we were obsessed. We made plans all week to eat there on the weekend. When the day came, Cassian starved himself in hopes of being able to eat more. And, because he was so hungry, he gobbled down all the food without chewing. When we were leaving, he started feeling nauseous."

Y/n grinned and rested her head on his shoulder, having an inkling of where this was going.

"As soon as we stepped inside the town house, he threw up all over the threshold. After that he never even stepped foot in the general vicinity of the restaurant, as if it was somehow cursed."

Y/n laughed. "He is... a masterpiece."

"That he is." He agreed. Soon, they had reached the restaurant he was telling about and he helped her settle before he took seat.

As they ate, he managed to get Y/n to tell him about her life. And, because there were not really any happy or pleasant memories in her life, she told him of the less gruesome and painful ones. She watched as his anger grew with every word from her mouth.

When they were flying back, he stayed mostly quiet, as if lost in thought. Before they landed though, he turned to her.

"There is a family dinner tomorrow at the river House. I'd be happy if you came."

She considered it for a moment before nodding. "I'll come."

"Thank you." Quiet joy took over his face as he set her down, his lips twitching as if he was holding back a smile as he kissed her hand before flying away.

She stared at his form until she couldn't anymore, smiling.

Azriel had been extremely adorable today, and she would be lying if she said that she wasn't excited to see this side of him again.

•○🌑○•

The darkness was creeping in again as she stared at her abdomen in the mirror. Her shirt was stuck around her wrists as she clutched the cloth to her chest. The disgusting thoughts and vile ideas she had regarding the disgusting marks on her body swirled through her mind.

She hated herself for it.

She hated everyone who played a role in bringing her to this point.

Everyone who had a hand in turning the hopeful little soul she had been into the unoptimistic female she was today.

Somewhere deep in her she knew it was wrong to think about herself that way, but she didn't care. Her father and the other men's laughs were too loud for her to hear the rational thoughts.

This was the sole reason why she never looked at herself when she changed. It bought back those dark memories and thoughts. But today she couldn't help it.

She was getting ready to go to the dinner with the inner circle when she had peeked at herself, and now she couldn't stop thinking of how disgusting her body was.

She knew if someone came in from the door, they would have an unobstructed view of the map of horror on her back. But she couldn't bring herself to care at the moment.

While she was busy thinking of these things, she didn't hear the soft footfalls nearing her room. She didn't hear them until it was too late.

A knock sounded before her husband poked his head in, the smile on his face disappearing as she pulled the shirt back over her head. She gave him a shaky smile as she watched a muscle feather in her jaw.

"Az– Azriel. Did you need something?"

He didn't reply, entering the room fully, the door clicking shut behind him. He prowled closer, ignoring her questions and attempts at distraction. When he was close enough, he traced lines on her now clothed back, exactly where some of those scars were.

His eyes slowly lifted to meet hers in the mirror, his voice quiet and deadly as he spoke. "May I?" His hands brushed the hem of her shirt. She wanted to say no, but she nodded.

He slowly and gently lifted her shirt as she clutched the front of it so she didn't get completely naked in front of him. His eyes traced the marks on her back with a fierceness that would've sent people running.

"Who did this to you?" His voice sent shivers down her spine.

"My– my father and a few other men."

He met her eyes again, his eyes flashing before glancing down at her abdomen which had gotten exposed. He stepped closer, curling his arm around her around her to reach the scars. His face was murderous, but his hands were gentle. So gentle her knees nearly buckled.

He traced those scars, completely silent. The air was filled with tension as she watched his every move, her eyes prickling.

His eyes slowly lifted to hers again, his voice lower and more dangerous as he spoke. "Anywhere else?"

She knew he was asking if she had more scars. Which she did, so after a moment of consideration, she unclasped the few of the clasps at the top of the shirt and pulled the flaps aside.

A startled gasp full of horror left him as his eyes flew wide.

There, on her chest right above where her heart should be, was a nasty scar.

"How did you survive that!?" He questioned, his voice wobbling.

She smiled. "He wouldn't have let me die that easily." She turned to him. "Before the bargain between us was made, he wasn't that bad. Then he slowly started ignoring us. Mother wasn't talking to him, spending most of her days with me. But then, so deep in despair she was, she stopped taking care of herself. And that was the start of her slow and sure demise." She took a deep breath, tears gathering in her eyes.

"After she died, he only got worse. He started yelling at us, and then hitting us. It soon turned to whipping us." She searched Azriel's face before continuing. "After you left, the Camp Lord kicked us out of the camp, not wanting to share the power when he was no longer getting something out of it. We stayed nearby for a few years before father somehow convinced him to let us back into the camp.

"Later on, we found out that he had made a bargain that he would let the males in the camp beat us for their own sick pleasure. He–"

"What?" He had gone rigid.

She swallowed. "They started an event. It took place every year. The men who wanted to feel like they were great warriors would come and fight with the women, who had no experience. Seeing their opponent, especially a female, beaten and bruised, gave then satisfaction. Some of those scars are the result of this event. But it was stopped the moment Rhysand became High Lord.

"One day, father got so frustrated for something that I can't recall right now, and conveniently, I was nearby. He got a blunt knife that he was about to sharpen, ant stuck it in my chest. It hurt." A tear escaped her eye as she recalled the pain. "And becuase it was blunt, it took more force for it to pierce skin. When he was done and I was nearly dead, he got a healer to get me healed."

At this point, tears were streaming down her cheeks. He pulled her to his chest, his lips ghosting over her temple. He murmured things in her ear, but she couldn't make anything out over the sound of her sobs and her heart beating in her chest as she clutched onto Azriel as if he was the only thing keeping her alive.

He didn't complain, holding her back just as fiercely.

Sometime later, she decided to get dressed. So she pulled away and walked into the adjoining bathroom. When she came back out, Azriel smiled at her.

"I'll drop you off at the house. I have an important thing to do."

She nodded, despite wanting to ask him to not go.

Soon, she was sitting with the inner circle in the sitting room of the River House, glancing out the window continuously, hoping he came back soon.

•○🌑○•

It was somewhere near midnight when Azriel returned, smiling at her. She smiled back, a blush already creeping up her face. He sat next to her. He smelled and looked like he just taken a bath, his hair damp.

Almost an hour later, the High Lord left the sitting room, saying someone had brought some reports for him. Azriel watched him go, his jaw clenching. But when he found Y/n looking at him, he smiled again, relaxing.

It wasn't long before Rhysand burst back in, fuming. He walked straight to Azriel, who was already standing.

"What is this Azriel?" Rhysand waved some papers in front of her husbands face. Confused, everybody sat straighter, somber.

Unease started swirling in Y/n's stomach. If the High Lord was so mad, it must be something important.

Azriel glanced at the High Lord's hand before back at him, speaking calmly. "Those are papers Rhys. More specifically, they look like reports."

Rhysand looked on the verge of murdering someone. Y/n stood. "Tell me why, tell me fucking why, an Illyrian camp was burned to the ground. That too exactly while you were absent."

Her heart stopped as she stared at Azriel, his face void of any emotion or remorse. If anything, he looked proud.

What in the name of the cauldron did he do?

•○🌑○•

Taglist: @bubybubsters @maxxieluvs @bubbbllee @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @waytoomanyteenagefeels @tell-me-a-poem @the-lake-is-calling @spaxxxi @japanese-wonderland-blog @valeridarkness @moonlwghts @deadratio @esposadomd @harrystylesfan2686 @missusbarnes-rogers @whatthefuckshappeningrn @hyacinthoideshispanica @historygeekqueen @lizziesfirstwife @nastynesta @aroseinvelaris @nightless @cleverzonkwombatsludge @kodokunarisu-blog @selillusion @eos-princess @moonfawnx @a-court-of-milkandhoney @emilyo-218 @wannabewolf @ailyr92 @chronically-online-cheese @myheartfollower @hells-sluttiest-new-arrival @marina468 @menaosama @starryhiraeth @hereticdance @mali22 @valencia-rou @azrielsstarlight @marvelouslovely-barnes @luvmoo @starlight-hope @a-frog-with-a-laptop @fall-myriad @alt-ghost @elleofdragons @ruleroftides @5moremin @stargirl1714 @bunnymallowo @ivy-34

Part 10

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger #shadowsinger x reader #Acotar fanfic #rhysand #mating bond #a court of thorns and roses #azriel fluff #acotar fandom #acotar series #Shadowsinger #spymaster #fluff #azriel fic #azriel fanfic #sarah j maas #acotar headcanon #acotar smut #Acotar writing #acotar fluff #acotar x reader #reader insert #forced marriage #tw forced marriage

[therealdisneyfan2319]

Swing | Wanda Maximoff

A Stripper MILF Wanda Cinematic Universe Story

Summary: Wanting to make up for missed birthdays, you give Wanda quite the present

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Male Reader

Warnings: Smut (18 + MINORS DNI), language

Word Count: 1.9K

Masterlist

You anxiously paced around the living room of your shared house with Wanda.  She was en route back after dropping the boys off at Vision’s for the weekend.  The quiet hour you had to yourself was spent setting up the latest in a long line of birthday gifts for your girlfriend.  It was your way of making up for all the ones her ex had forgotten: how anyone could ignore Wanda on her birthday was incomprehensible.  She insisted that you didn’t need to spoil her, arguing that you didn’t need to make up for Vision’s shortcomings.  You ignored her.  It was the first time in your life you had a woman to spoil and you were planning on taking full advantage of that.  

The gifts started small: cooking her favorite dinner on Monday for no reason, surprising her with her favorite flowers on Tuesday, the new end table she’d been talking about for months on Wednesday, and a long after dinner massage on Thursday.  Wanda wasn’t used to such thoughtful displays of kindness.  Yet you were determined to make sure she had the best birthday yet, which is why you saved the best for last.  This was the present you knew she wouldn’t be expecting at all.  It’s the one she mentioned in passing once not realizing how you’d cling onto it for the last few months.  It was the most expensive of the gifts.  And it was the most…scandalous…of the gifts.  

The sound of the front door unlocking snapped you back to reality.  Your heart pounded in your throat, threatening to explode out of your body entirely as seconds turned to minutes turned to hours as you waited for Wanda to walk down the hallway.  

“Virginia’s over for the weekend.  She brought the kids with her, too.  I know Billy gets along with Vin well enough, but Tommy really doesn’t care for him or Viv.  And I don’t understand why the V names.  Could they not come up with anything else?” Wanda frequently voiced her disdain for her ex-husband’s new girlfriend and her kids.  While you knew that she was happy and secure in your relationship, you also knew that the topic of her failed marriage was a sore subject.  

“The boys’ll be fine, Wands.  It’s just for the weekend.”

“I know.”

“They’ve gotta get used to being around Virginia and the kids.”

“I know.”

“That means we have the weekend to ourselves.”

“I know,” Wanda smirked.

“I have a present for you.”

“Y/N, no.  You’ve already gotten-” “It’s downstairs.”

Wanda’s mouth snapped shut abruptly as she looked at you, a curious expression painted on her face.  

“Follow me?” you asked as you offered her your hand.  You smirked knowingly as Wanda sighed, dropping her hands into your outstretched one.  

“You know, you don’t have to spoil me like this just because it’s my birthday.  Really, it’s okay.”

“I want to make up for all those ones that Vision missed or forgot or whatever…plus this one is for both of us.”

“What do you mean-oh.”  Wanda’s eyes widened as she stared at the hanging mess of nylon and leather straps hanging from the heavy bag hook on the ceiling.  “Oh my god.”

“You like it?” you chuckled, giving Wanda’s hand a slight squeeze.

“Oh my god,” she repeated.  You felt her hand slip from yours as she carefully made her way over to the middle of the room.  Wanda brushed a strand of hair behind her ear as she eyed the set-up with a keen sense of curiosity.  

“Now if you really don’t want another gift, I can always take it back,” you teased, cheekily shoving your hands in your pockets, watching Wanda stare awestruck at the swing in the middle of the room.

“Don’t you dare,” Wanda warned.  “Where on earth did you find one of these?” she asked, reaching up to run her fingers through the straps.

“A magician never reveals his secrets.”

She gave you a look.

“The internet.  Some website.  Google suggested it.”

Wanda’s look turned into a smirk.  The nylon straps danced through her fingers as she continued to examine her newest present.  You felt your heart slowly creeping up your throat the longer you stared at the straps twirling through your girlfriend’s fingers.

“You remembered.”

“Wanda, how could I forget?”  Your heart threatened to burst out the side of your neck as blood rushed through every part of your body.  

“And this is why you wanted the boys to stay with Vision this weekend?” “Do you want to keep asking questions or do you want to try it out?”

Her lips crashed into yours before you could get another thought out.  Instinctively your hands found their way to her waist, pulling her body flush against yours.  She sighed into your mouth, her soft hands gently tugging at your hair.  No matter how many times you did it, kissing Wanda never got old.  Each kiss was a new experience, a new sensation that you perpetually craved.  She was the most entrancing woman in the entire world and she was all yours.

“So how does this work?” Wanda asked breathlessly as you nibbled on the sensitive spot under her jaw.

“Dunno,” you mumbled between kisses, your grip on Wanda tightening as soon as you felt her swoon ever so slightly.  “I think it’s pretty self-explanatory.”

“This won’t fall down, right?” she asked.  Her hands trailed down from your head to the buttons at the front of your shirt.  You shook your head, recoiling slightly as you felt her cold hands brush your chest as she tore at your clothes.

“Hope not.”  You undid the button on her jeans, your fingers slinking inside the waistband.

“Hope not?”

“I mean it should be good.  Don’t see why it wouldn’t be.”

Wanda chuckled as she shook her head.  She knew that you would’ve double and triple checked to make sure the swing wouldn’t fall down the second she got into it.  

“So how do I get in?  Do I just-?”

“I think you just sit back into it and put your legs in the straps,” you replied, stepping out of your jeans and boxers and kicking them behind you.  

Wanda, now in her long sleeve shirt and panties, carefully looked behind her as she grabbed the leather support straps and allowed herself to sink into the swing.  She fell back with an emphatic oomph, tentatively repositioning herself as the two of you prayed she wouldn’t immediately come crashing down.  

“How is it?” you asked, slinking over to the swing and positioning yourself between her legs.

“It’s actually pretty comfortable,” she observed.  “Can you help me get my legs up?”

“Yeah, but let’s get these off first,” you replied, teasing the palm of your hand between her legs.  Wanda whimpered at your touch, a jolt of excitement running through her body as her hips bucked into your hand.  You smirked at her as you pulled off the lace garment, tossing it over your shoulder.  “Leg.”

Wanda lifted her leg up as you grabbed the extended stirrup, guiding her foot through the loop so that her leg sat bent against the swing.  You gently grabbed her other leg unprompted, guiding it to the same position.

“I am definitely going to feel that tomorrow,” Wanda joked.  She reached one hand forward and grabbed your cock.

“Oh yeah?” you stifled a slight groan as she began to pump her hand up and down your length.  

“I’ve already got that bad hip, Y/N.  Let’s see how much more damage you can do.”  

You felt yourself twitch under her grip, hardening as you rocked into her hand.  Luckily you were able to grab the metal bar at the top of the swing to steady yourself.  

“You okay there?” she teased.  You groaned in response, leaning forward to capture her lips between yours.  She smiled into the kiss, knowing full well the intoxicating effect she had on you.

“You gonna keep distracting me or are you gonna let me-?”

“If you don’t put that inside me soon I may actually die.”

“Somebody’s dramatic.” “It’s my birthday, I can be as dramatic as I want today.”

“Is that so?” You grabbed the base of your cock, positioning yourself against her entrance.

“Mmhmm,” she nodded.  

Instead of pushing yourself inside her, you rubbed your head against her folds, coating yourself in the wetness that was pooling between her legs.  Wanda threw her head back and groaned.  She gripped the straps tightly as you teased her, dipping the tip inside briefly before pulling out and sliding around her clit.

“Is this what you wanted, Wands?”

“Y/N, please,” she pleaded in a tone that was uncharacteristically whiny.

With little warning, you pressed yourself into Wanda, her slick folds parting with ease as you buried your length inside her.  The feeling of her warm, wet walls around you elicited a groan from the deepest part of your core.

“Oh my god,” Wanda groaned, her eyes rolling back as you entered her at an entirely new angle for the first time.  “Baby, oh my god.”

“That okay?” you asked.

“Move,” she ordered as she screwed her eyes shut.

You didn’t need to be told twice.  Taking a firm grip on the straps, you rolled your hips into her.  The moan that erupted from her lips was pornographic.  Her body strained and tightened as your cock rubbed against the most sensitive part of her walls.  She squeezed against you as you thrust in and out, forcing you to work harder than normal.

“Fuck,” you gasped, biting your lip as Wanda’s wetness engulfed you over and over again.  

“Right there, Y/N, don’t stop,” Wanda begged.  Her hand came up to rest against your stomach as you picked up your pace, pounding into her slick pussy as you pulled the swing toward you.

“You feel so good, Wands.”

“I love the way your cock feels inside me, baby.  You always-fuck, that’s the spot right there-” Wanda let out a groan, unable to finish her thought as you pulled against the swing, changing the angle ever so slightly.

“You like that?” you gritted through clenched teeth, attempting to stave off your impending orgasm.  

“I’m close,” she whimpered, arching her back against the swing.  “Keep going, just like that.”

“Wanda, I’m gonna cum,” you whined.  “Should I pull-”

“Inside.  Please.  Fill me up.  I want to feel you finish inside me.”

Wanda’s words drove you over the edge.  You groaned loudly as you came inside her, painting her with your seed.  The sensation of being filled with your cum sent Wanda over the edge, too.  She moaned your name over and over as you filled her up, squeezing every last drop from you.

The two of you came down from your highs in a sweaty tangle of naked bodies and leather and nylon.  You collapsed on top of her, panting into her chest as your legs buckled under the ecstasy of your orgasm.  Wanda leaned back, rubbing her hands through her hair as she struggled to control her breathing.

“Best birthday present ever,” she panted.  “I am so sending the boys to Vision’s more often.”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.  I don’t think it’s possible for us to use this quietly,” you chuckled.  “I’ve never heard you moan like that before.”

“That’s because you just gave me the best orgasm I’ve ever had.”

“So what I’m hearing is I need to cum inside you more often.”

“What you’re hearing is I need you to have your way with me in this swing more often.”

“Round two then?” you quipped.

“You’re on.”

#wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff fic #scarlet witch fic #wanda maximoff x male reader #wanda x male reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #scarlet witch x male reader #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch x y/n #self reader insert #male reader #male reader insert #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfiction #therealdisneyfan2319

[schemmentigfs]

Okokok pretty please with a cherry on top could you write one where the reader is taking care of schemmenti that leads into smexy time? Or their wedding night orrrr my brain is malfunctioning I'm doing this on a whim lol but something between the two? (Also I love your writing!!! This is like asking a celebrity to autograph something!!)

two queens in a king size bed.

paring: melissa schemmenti x reader.

summary: you and your wife melissa share a lovely morning after the happiest night of your lives.

warnings: smut, but basically it's pure romance.

author notes: Aww thanks babee! 🩷 You are so sweet and kind. Hope you like this one, it was an honor to write your adorable request. I tried my best to write somethin’ between the two. And yes, I am one of those who loves the reader taking care of mel dynamic. Also this was my first time writing smut, let me know if I did good or horrible! (be kind pls)

masterlist:

title was inspired by two queens in a king size bed by girl in red. <3

english is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes. Work not revised!

Melissa smiled as she watched your sleeping figure on the left side of the bed. Yesterday had been the happiest day of your lives, after five years together, she could now refer to you as her wife. The woman of her dreams was officially her beloved and sweet wife.

It was gratifying to see that one of her childhood dreams had finally come true.

The redhead closes her eyes, losing herself in the memories of the wedding night. Everything had been perfect. The way she always imagined and desired when she was just a little girl and heard everyone around her talking about marriage on the classic Schemmenti family reunions.

The topic of marriage has always been something delicate in her life, when she experienced it for the first time it was something traumatic and horrible, Joe was not a good husband. In fact, he was the opposite of that.

And after they divorced, the redhead was determined to not get engaged to anyone else again. The promise has been strengthened for several years, this until you appeared in her life. Melissa didn't believe in miracles, but you were practically a divine gift from heaven that belonged to her and only her.

The beginning of the relationship was difficult for both of you, since the older woman had her fears and insecurities — a consequence of the traumas of the past. But that wasn't a problem for you who helped her overcome all this and didn't give up on her at any time.

That's what surprised the redhead, you fought for her from the first moment making it clear that you loved her unconditionally. And it was so fucking worth it, because here you were. Ready to start a new chapter in your lives, together.

Melissa blinks and turns her head to look at you again. The small rays of sunshine escaped through the window reaching your figure, making you even more stunning. A true work of art.

She carefully approached and put her palm on your cheek lovingly. “Fuck. So beautiful,” she whispers running her fingers through your face. Wanting to memorize every detail of your gorgeous features.

The feeling of your wife's loving touch makes you hum in satisfaction and open your eyes slowly. And there she was, Melissa Schemmenti looking at you with all the love in the world. The scene brings an air of domesticity making your heart melt.

“Mornin’, babe,” you say with a smile kissing the tip of her nose. “Did you sleep well?”

“Buongiorno, amore della mia vita,” she snuggles into you, putting her arm around your waist protectively. “Yeah, I did.” Soft green eyes meet yours and no matter how much she was apparently content, some tears ran down her cheeks. Which didn't go unnoticed by you.

“Hey, what's wrong, Lissa?” you ask softly with a bit of concern.

“Nothing. I just love you so much,” she reveals and has something so genuinely sincere and truly in her words. The older woman was known for her tough way of acting and seeing her here by your side, allowing herself to be vulnerable without any fear of being judged or having to use her fight or fight response as a defense mechanism, made you think how lucky you were to have the redhead as your wife.

“I love you too, baby. More than anything,” you rest your foreheads together and lean over to capture her lips in a calm and tender kiss.

Her manicured hands grabbed your neck with a certain force, making you moan in her mouth.

As soon as you pull away, the emerald eyes are replaced by lust and hunger. She bites her lip and you know what that means. “Prove it then,” Melissa challenges with an arched eyebrow. “Show me how much you love me.”

“Is this a challenge, Schemmenti?” you questioned already knowing the answer.

“Maybe?” the redhead responds with a lovely pout. “C'mon, don't keep me waiting.”

You laugh, as she repositions herself in bed, putting her head back on the pillows. “Y/N,” she says looking impatient. “Come here now.” Her authoritarian tone sending chills all over your body.

Straddling her waist, you started to unbutton the buttons from her pajamas, exposing her naked torso. “You are so soft, so warm. So beautiful,” you comment between kisses, moving down to lightly nibble on your wife's neck. The act making her shiver when you bite a sensitive spot. “I’m the luckiest woman in the whole fucking world.”

She moans, struggling with the difficulty of forming a single sentence. “Baby…please, I need you. Just...”

“It looks like someone is quite needy,” you teased with a smirk continuing to explore her perfect body, placing a trail of love marks on the valley of the older woman's breasts.

As soon as your mouth covered one of her nipples, the redhead's back arched extracting a celestial sound from her lips. “Yeah,” she sighs, tangling her fingers in your hair, guiding your head where she needed it most.

Obeying her non-verbal commands, you went down to the middle of her legs grabbing her shorts, giving a wicked smile when you noticed the wet patch dripping through the fabric of her black panties.

Sliding your hands down her thighs, you spread her legs, Melissa understood the message and raised her hips, helping you get rid of her ruined underwear

“So pretty,” you murmur before tasting her, your lips soft and moist covering Melissa's pussy, your tongue exploring her folds and swollen bud. Your movements were slow, but still precise causing chills in the woman above you.

“Oh!” The redhead moaned loudly grabbing the sheets. “Fuck, more. Please more. JESUS-” she yells when you shove two fingers in her entrance and start pumping at a strong pace, without stopping sucking her.

The combination of your tongue and skillful fingers made Melissa reach the edge in seconds. “I'm gonna—” she stuttered between quick breaths.

“Be a good girl and cum for me,” you gave her a final trust, feeling her walls clenched around yours fingers and she came with a scream of your name. “I gotcha, my sweet angel,” you calm her down by placing soft kisses on her thighs and whispering sweet nothings during her high.

As soon as her panting breath stabilized again, Melissa pulled you back to lie on her chest. “That was perfect,” she speaks in a hoarse voice, completely exhausted from your activities.

“It was,” you chucked, drawing imaginary patterns on her naked skin.

She kisses your head and closes her eyes. “Ti amo infinitamente, dolcezza mia. Non hai idea di quanto sono grato di averti come moglie.”

You fell asleep again with your bodies intertwined, without worries. Just Melissa and you, enjoying each other's company. As it should be.

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #wlw post #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary #requests 🩷

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Three-headed dragon (Rhaenyra Targaryen x reader)

Summary: Three times Rhaenyra marked you, and one time you did too. Or snippets of the love story I so wanted to tell but didn’t feel confident enough to write.

Warnings: Implied smut. Dance of the dragons. Canon character death (Not Rhaenyra)

Rquested: Yes!

A/N: I have not read the books, and I have only gotten one hickey in my life. I hope my ability to describe it's alright. Ignore the bra and the hegemonic body in the first picture, it's for the vibes.

“How many years have you spent by my side?” Rhaenyra asks, as you fix her hair in the mirror. It’s an important day, even if none of you know it at the time. It’s early. Her husband is off somewhere, no longer sleeping in the same bed as her. She is too pregnant, she jokes. You doubt it. You have long wondered what her relationship with Prince Daemon is. Are they star crossed lovers, who finally get their happy ending? Are they Uncle and Niece, married out of political convenience? You can’t tell.

You know which one you prefer, though. It must be kept secret, this deep-seated, long-lasting admiration for your Princess. You have been through it all, together. Youth, marriages, motherhood, widowhood. Ruining it now, with your feelings, would be foolish.

“Since we were sixteen.” You place different ribbons over her hair, testing, draping. It’s not your job, technically. You are a noblewoman in your own right, not supposed to be here on Dragonstone, but back in the North, where your long deceased husband’s bones rest.

Not meant for marriage, and ready to start your career as a Septa, you had found yourself as a companion to a much younger Rhaenyra. She had secured, in an admirable move, a marriage by proxy with some old lord. You had not even managed to reach the North when he had passed, leaving you as the sole heir to a small castle close to the Boltons.

With such undesirable neighbors, and the news that your Lord Husband was dead, you had decided to come back into Rhaenyra’s service. Her companion through childhood, now by her side during the trials of adulthood.

“Sixteen. Such a long time.” Rhaenyra squeezed your hand, eyes meeting yours in the mirror. “Served loyally and never asking for anything in return.”

“Only your friendship.” Your love, you wanted to scream. Your love, for you to see me, since I am still here and I want you. Don’t you see how much it has hurt me, when I am yours, yours, and you were Criston’s, then- -

But you say nothing of the sort. Not wanting to ever risk what you had. Love is selfless, you remind yourself. You can’t have her, nor can you own her. Rhaenyra is the Seven Kingdoms, Aegon’s Crown. You cannot hope to own her or rule her. The Iron Throne, as everyone knows, was not made for a woman.

“You are not my friend,” Rhaenyra says, and the shock must show on your face because she laughs. Silver bells filling the room, the laughter of a golden Princess. “You are family, by this point. Haven’t you cared for the boys as if they were yours?”

And it’s true. You have loved those children because they are half her. You have been the preferred aunt, the accomplice, and the one to teach them things as important as the proper way to hold a quill. As the saying goes, it takes a village. The children are your combined efforts, alongside hers, Daemon’s and Harwin’s.

“You are as much a mother to them as I am.” Yours. Rhaenyra is saying the boys are as much hers as they are yours. “I have been thinking.”

You are so grateful for it, you could cry. But that’s not why Rhaenyra likes you.

“Oh? You are capable of it? We must inform the Maesters.”

Rhaenyra laughs.

“More respect for your future Queen.” She tries putting on a scolding expression, but is unable to keep her face straight.

“Oh, your majesty! I never meant to offend?” You give her a mock curtsy, and she giggles a bit more. You love her like this, you have come to realize. Rhaenyra is a woman of many flaws, even as a mother. She has grown into something larger than life, a presence that commands rooms yet manages to remain full of love to give.

“Stop it, you,” Rhaenyra complains. “I’m trying to do something here. Have a gesture.”

You sober up, a smile still tugging at your lips.

“I was thinking perhaps you should start wearing my house colors. And before you say anything, I mean it as an order. I already had you made three new gowns.”

You open and close your mouth a few times.

“Dragon got your tongue?” She teases, cradling her belly.

“Rhaenyra… I… Too much?” Because you are not sure what she is saying, but definitely she is not calling you sister. She would say it plainly, your Rhaenyra. That she is telling you to wear her house colors… That’s what men do. To their wives.

“It’s what you deserve.”

She is informed of her father’s death that day. The only person she allows in the room with her, as she loses baby Visenya, is you. From woman to woman. No one else gets to glimpse the fragile human who lives inside the dragon, not even Daemon.

You declare war dressed in black and red.

The Black Council is filled with fools, despite the support they show to Rhaenyra. You know it. She knows it. That’s why it doesn’t come as a surprise to you when you go to step inside the war room, and a guard bars the entrance with his lance. You have been expecting this moment. Dreading it, even. It was bound to happen.

“I am sorry, my Lady, but you are not allowed inside. Orders of the Prince consort.” Of course. Of course it's Daemon. Despite expecting it, you can’t help but be surprised at his boldness.

You don’t wish to make a scene. You truly don’t. But it scares you more than you thought it would. First, you will be banned from rooms. Then, dismissed, if not outright executed. This day had to come, you knew. Everyone had family on the other side of the war, with all the noble houses having intermarried at least once.

In the years to come, the conflict will be known as one that teared brother from brother. You don’t know this, you will not live to see it. Yet, it rattles in your bones.

“What? Prince Daemon?” You ask a little too loud. It attracts the attention of some other people in the hallway, including Rhaenyra who is just arriving. She looks more regal than ever in a black gown that compliments her pale skin.

Whispers start to break out among the gathered, surely reminding your heritage. Everyone is waiting to enter the war room, and the lance the guard has extended across the doorway is certainly drawing attention.

“What’s going on here?” Rhaenyra asks, placing a hand on your lower back and eyeing the guard with suspicion. The man lowers his head.

“My Queen, Prince Daemon has said…” He starts to explain, but Rhaenyra silences him with a dismissive wave of the hand. Ashamed, you lower your eyes.

“I do not care what he has said.”

“He has prohibited the Lady from entering…” The guard argues. Next to you, Rhaenyra tenses. You know he has already angered her, daring to speak above her like that.

“Is Prince Daemon King? Does he wear the crown?” She asks him, fiercely. The guard, wisely, keeps quiet. “She is my right hand. I will not suffer to see her disrespected.”

And with that, Rhaenyra moves the lance aside with a brush of her hand, leading you inside by the small of your back.

At the table, Daemon stands, moving some pieces along the map of Westeros. His back is to you, but he turns as he hears the commotion that precedes your arrival. A smug little smirk is on his lips, as he sees your discomfort.

“What are you…?” Daemon says, when he processes that you are, in fact, inside the room he had banned you from. Then, he notices Rhaenyra. “Ah.”

He squares his shoulders, getting ready for a fight. You try to pull away from Rhaenyra, but the hand on your back turns into claws, grasping at your dress to keep you right where you are.

“Why did you order the guards to not let her inside?” Rhaenyra speaks in a tone that leaves no room for argument. Daemon has to answer her or else. It’s a tone you had heard frequently when she tries to reign her sons in.

“Because I thought she didn’t belong in the war room, my Queen.” Daemon saunters towards you, no doubt trying to intimidate you. You lift your chin defiantly. Usually, you two avoid each other’s path. He resents your position in Rhaenyra's life, as her most trusted council. You resent that he gets to share her bed.

“You gave a ridiculous order.” Rhaenyra argues, rubbing your lower back in soothing circles, as if you were a spooked horse.

“Not so ridiculous. We have known for a long time there is a spy. Why should it not be your pet?”

“I am not! You truly think I would do something as vile?” Desperate and feeling powerless, you turn towards Rhaenyra. For a second, you truly think she might believe him. It’s the scariest second of your life. Losing her in a trap set up by Daemon? You hope she can see how genuine the next words you speak are. “I would never endanger the children, never endanger you!”

“I know.” Rhaenyra says, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “I know.”

“Come on. Her family is as green as they come.” Daemon raises his hands in the air, as if asking for patience to the Seven Heavens.

“My family is here.” You say, firmly. “Jace, Luke, Joffrey, Viserys, Aegon…”

“So you say. But they are not your family, are they?” It feels as if Daemon has burned you. Nothing has hurt you more. Not even the accusations about you being a spy, or the time you thought you would have to leave Rhaenyra to marry some Lord in the North.

You have spent all your life next to her. All your best years. Now, you are an old spinster, despite being barely thirty. You have always wanted children, like any noble lady in Westeros. It was too late for it now. No lord would want a widow past her prime.

Yet, you have always thought that the void the lack of children of your own had left could be filled by Rhaenyra’s boys. Secretly, you thought yourself a mother already. What else could you be, when your name had been Jace’s first word? When you were the one holding Luke’s hands as he learned to walk?

Daemon wasn’t saying it openly, but it was clear that was what he meant. Rhaenyra’s children were not yours. As they had not been Harwin’s.

“They are!” Rhaenyra insists, but you are barely hearing it. The thought of it has left you too distraught to care about whatever you are discussing. It feels as if your heart is being carved out of your chest. Were Daemon about to suggest executing you for treason, you doubt you would worry. How could you, when it feels as if he has gutted you already? “We are. She is family. And I will hear no more of this matter.”

Her hand curves possessively around your waist. A claim, for everyone to see. You lean into her, shell shocked by it all.

But Daemon isn’t about to let this go. He pulls out a crumpled piece of parchment from his pocket, one you recognize too well. You slump in defeat, despite Rhaenyra’s hands urging you to stay upright.

Daemon clears his throat, dramatically.

“And I fear your time with the Princess.” He stresses the last word, making a long pause. You close your eyes, and keep them closed tight. “Has come to an end. I urge you to come back to the Stormlands, where no harm shall befall you. For King Aegon is the most merciful when the misguided sheep comes back to the herd.” Daemon crumples the paper, and throws it to the floor. You wince. “Nothing to say?”

You shake your head.

“Daemon…” Rhaenyra warns, arm around your waist turning into a vice-like grip. You do not understand it, then. It will be a long time before you do.

“Did or did not your father write that?” He whispers, dangerously.

“He did.” You answer, in a voice so small it’s nearly inaudible. Daemon slams his hand on the table, making you jump, and struts out of the room.

You start to sob, quietly. This is it. Rhaenyra is going to dismiss you from her service. It’s true that your father has been urging you to come back home, stating that you would be protected. Begging you, even. Promising all sorts of things, from freedom, to riches, to a husband, to becoming the wife of a Prince. That’s his level of desperation.

It’s unlike him, to worry so much. But you know part of it is not just fatherly affection and genuine concern for your well-being. No. Taking you from Rhaenyra’s side would be the greatest hit the Blacks could take. Lately, you are one of the few things keeping the Queen calm and tethered to reality. You love her, but ever since Luke passed, Rhaenyra has turned almost unrecognizable. She is paranoid and harsh in ways you had never seen before. Crueler. More Targaryen than usual.

And not only that. You hold an unusual amount of information inside your head. Battle plans, supply chains, locations. Everything that has been the key to the Black’s success so far, you know. The information is too valuable to pass on. If you were to turn to the Greens, you would have to share it, be it voluntarily or forcibly. You are not foolish enough to not know it.

“Breathe, darling.” Rhaenyra cradles your face between her hands. “It's alright. I know you would never betray me. Breathe.” She exaggerates her breathing, placing your hand on her chest. It’s only then you realize you have started to hyperventilate. She pulls you into her, hugging you. On the doorstep, Daemon watches.

You don’t know what has gotten into her. Never has she touched you like this. It’s not the first time you kissed. You had both been sixteen and curious, once. But it had not gone further than learning how to kiss another person without it being gross. Because that was what friends were for. Obviously.

She smells like soot and blood. It’s clear she has rushed to your side, not even taking time to change after the battle. You wonder who she killed, this time. What city has she burned, how many of the small folk she and Daemon have doomed?

“I thought… When they said there were revolts on the road….” And her mouth is yours, and you can’t think because you want her so bad you aren't concerned about the consequences. Half the Kingdom is against you, already. You are considered traitors on one side, she is the Queen on the other. What does it matter, really, that it’s called a sin? You will die anyway.

“You are mine. Please. Say it to me, love.” Rhaenyra pleads, kissing your jaw. She looks so gorgeous in armor, you feel like you might die any time you glance her way. And now, you get to have her. It’s intoxicating, having all that power at your fingertips. A goddess come to life, set on claiming you, you and only you.

“I am yours.” You say, kissing her brow. You won’t question it. Not when you are so close to getting your darkest fantasies come true. “I have always been.”

“Mine.” Rhaenyra kisses the hollow of your throat. “You are mine.”

She grabs your hand, pulling you towards a chair. The room you are in is not yours, nor hers. Neither of you care, too desperate for each other. Rhaenyra doesn’t care that her blood soaked armor is staining someone’s chair. You don’t care that your dress is getting thrown around someone's room. Just in your chemise, she pulls you into her lap.

It will have to be burned, after this. There is no way you will be able to salvage the white cotton shift after straddling her lap. The blood sticks the two of you together, but you are too joyous to care.

“I love you.” You say to her, as she bites down on the column of your throat, harshly. Still a little bloodthirsty.

A beat of silence. Have you ruined things before they truly began?

“I love you too.” Rhaenyra says, as she kisses your collarbones. “I love you, and you are mine.”

“All yours.” You answer, breathlessly. Purple flowers blooming across your collarbones, a red angry rose right by your ear. Her bloodstained hands leaving marks upon your arms.

“Yours, yours, yours.” You moan as someone clinging to a lifeline.

“All mine, all mine, all mine.” She answers back.

A bite where your shoulder meets your neck. It’s painful, stinging, your vision blurring into soft flashes of orange and red.

“Just take it for me, please. Please, sweet girl.” Rhaenyra sucks another bruise on your skin. Deep lilac that will bloom into soft green. “I need this. I need them to know you are mine, even if we can’t tell them.”

You pant. There is a certain pleasure to it, being kissed with the barest hint of teeth. But it’s more than just the kisses, what has you panting in arousal. It’s the way she treats your body as her own personal canvas. As if you were a precious artwork Rhaenyra is bringing to life with her kisses.

A maroon chrysanthemum, just over your collarbones. Front and center, the bruise blooms. Her hand, holding your jaw still for the softest torture.

You are uncertain if she is doing it out of fear, trying to make sure you are still there. If she is a bit sadistic, in the way Targaryens are. Or if this is simple, raw reassurance that you are willing to do anything she asks. You save the wondering for later, though. At the moment, you are too busy breaking down under the talented mouth of your Princess.

You don’t want to be separated from her. You know, you know, that something bad is about to happen. Some nights, you wake up, choked up in a bad feeling. You barely recognize her anymore.

Luke’s death had devastated everyone. You thought, after that, never again would you know such pain. You were mistaken. In the months to come, it was as if the children were falling as flies. Everywhere you looked. Jace, Joffrey, Viserys. And through it all, you had been by her side.

Rhaenyra has transformed into something that’s equally beautiful and terrifying. Far more determined and possessive, love harsher and unwilling to let go. Desperation does funny things to women.

As children, your love had been more pure. Untainted but also untested. Your innocence had been lost long ago. But a love that was not pure didn’t mean a love that meant less. it just meant it had grown and changed, as things often did.

Rhaenyra’s heart was not what it used to be when you two were younger. No longer filled with dreams of cake and laughter. But you weren’t the same girl, either.

Before, you had felt the urge to mark her and settled for being marked instead. You had told yourself you were not allowed to have her, that she was Laenor’s, Harwin’s, Daemon’s. And each and each time, you pulled back, curling into yourself. No more. It was not enough, to be hers. No. It was not enough to be owned. You had so little now, you wanted everyone to know she was yours as you were hers.

“Rhaenyra.” You ask her, as she pushes you down to your knees, tossing and turning in the sheets. “Rhaenyra.” As your teeth bruise her thighs, as you bring her over the edge over and over again.

“Darling. Love. Come here.” And you want to sob because it’s not enough. You want her to be yours. You want her to be yours, so you can drag her and the kids away from this madness, far away to a land where the war won’t touch you. Where there is no Iron Throne to destroy the family you have built little by little.

She will never go. Not even after all the boys die. Not even after Daemon is dead, in an incident that’s half an attempt to escape her, half a suicide mission. You have no other choice but to remain by her side, too far in to do otherwise.

Leaving is giving up. Leaving is losing. Leaving is renouncing the Iron Throne, her birthright. She will never go. Rhaenyra would rather tear the realm apart than save herself, and it terrifies you.

What terrifies you more is the fact that despite all the grief, all the pain, you do not regret loving her. You just regret not loving her in the way she deserves, in the way she has been asking for. The clothes, the hands, the bruises. Only now do you realize Rhaenyra has been trying to mark you, claim you. And it’s like you two are finally speaking the same language.

“Promise me.” You whisper against her hair, as you lay in bed together. “Promise you will never take this off.” And you are slipping her a silly thing, a medal of the Mother you always carry with you for protection. It’s not exactly your house’s jewelry, or your cloak, as a man would give to a wife.

Rhaenyra laughs. She finds your devotion to the Faith of the Seven silly. But she gets it, anyway. She puts the medal on, close to her heart.

You loved her differently now. No longer your silver Princess, your childhood companion. In your chest, curling around your heart, a dark possessive thread rests, tying you to her. Finally, you meet her in the middle.

Rhaenyra has always loved you like certain things are meant to be loved. In secrecy. In the dark. Not of her own will, but yours. Rhaenyra didn’t care what others thought. She had been so bold before, trying to get you to step in the light for once. You had not realized it at the time, you had not been ready. You had worried too much.

And now, with no time to worry left, with death threatening your doorstep, you realize exactly what you were missing out on. Every time she walks away, chain glistening between her breasts, you get a secret thrill. She is yours. You know it. It’s your mark Rhaenyra wears close to her heart.

#rhaenyra x reader #rhaenyra targaryen x reader #rhaenyra x you #rhaenyra x oc #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra x fem!reader #rhaenyra targaryen fanfic #hotd fanfic #rhaenyra targaryen smut #rhaenyra smut #rhaenyra #rhaenyra targeryan #rhaenyra the cruel #queen rhaenyra

[wheredidhiseyebrowsgo]

Do you know any fics similar to The Mating Privilege or I Don’t Like the Way She’s Looking at You? Just some stories where Derek isn’t the *best* mate/bf/husband etc or they have to pretend to not be together and ends up with stiles feeling neglected or ignored.

I’ve also read “how I long for yesterday” and “worth it” for those that want something similar but not quite what I’m looking for!

First of all. "How I Long for Yesterday" is my fic. So this made my day.

How I Long For Yesterday by sweetbutterbliss

(1/1 I 6,017 I Mature I Sterek)

Stiles blinks, his throat going dry, and he moves his thumb without thinking - liking the post. He feels a surge of petty satisfaction. At least the fucker will know he knows now. He stands up, his body feeling too heavy, and he blows out the already guttering candles. He lets out a sob of frustration when the last one won’t fucking blow out. But he sucks it back in and bites down on his tongue, using his thumb and forefinger instead. He throws himself into their empty bed without undressing. He lies there repeating the words ‘Derek blew me off for Isaac’ over and over. He tells himself to shut up while rearranging his pillow violently, but he goes to sleep with the refrain continuing its painful loop.

Worth It by dragneels

(1/1 I 1,670 I General I Sterek)

He hadn’t thought even for a second, instincts roaring, and jumped in front of Derek, taking the blow. And then he got lost in the darkness. also known as the "stiles telling derek that he's worth everything" fic no one asked for

***

As the seconds tick by by Halevetica

(1/1 I 3,972 I Not Rated)

When Derek picks up a new contract, he starts showing up late and missing important dates making Stiles feel unimportant. Derek is sure the contract is worth it, but Stiles doesn't understand why.

I'm Torn Do I Stay Do I Go by Adaline_Stilinski

(2/2 I 6,963 I General)

Derek had been focusing on making alliances with other packs around Beacon Hills to protect his pack but in doing so he started to neglect Stiles and there relationship. Stiles get's sick of it and decided to leave for some time apart is it going to help be like the stories Stiles reads and write about how distance makes love grow or will they both realise that there better apart. Will tragedy bring them together

Aberration by JackalPinesOfHouseEvergreen

(11/? I 29,415 I Teen)

Derek is a hot-shot lawyer who is very focused on his work. Stiles is his loving husband who does his best to fit into Derek's high-class family. He's hit some major roadblocks though. He feels neglected and unloved, and worse when Derek ditches him at his own family's parties which leave him humiliated as he tries to appear like their marriage isn't failing.

As an old member comes during some important werewolf ceremony to stir the pot, Derek's relationship with his family and Stiles is tested more than ever. Derek's world has been rocked and turned upside down.

And Stiles? Stiles is trying to find out who he is in the absence of the one he loves. As much as he believes in Derek and in their relationship, Stiles needs to find his self-worth that got lost along the way. Remember the fire he had inside of him as he got in the face of those that looked down at him, the fierceness of his intelligence that made others fear and respect him. Remember how fun life was...

Derek and Stiles drift a bit as Derek realizes he has to woo Stiles again, because he will not risk losing the love of his life. Not again.

The Mating Privilege by Kikileduc

(12/12 I 35,380 I Mature)

Stiles and Derek have been happily mated. The pack is doing well, but in hopes of creating alliances for it to do better, Derek accepts a neighboring pack's request to allow two wolves to join the Hale-McCall pack for a full moon cycle. They hope to form a blood-tie, or at least a long term friendship between the two packs. The issue is Kohona, the tribal leader's daughter, has her eyes set on an unavailable alpha wolf. This could have drastic consequences for their young emissary, however...

Til We Ain't Strangers Anymore by WriteByNight

(7/7 I 35,994 I Explicit)

Stiles should've expected Derek to suddenly disappear since the werewolf was in the habit of taking off without notice. However, Derek always showed up when they needed him.

As the weeks pass by, Stiles is no longer confused and a little hurt. What started as heartache begins to get worse the longer Stiles goes without seeing Derek. Eventually, his body begins to shut down and his only hope seems to be Derek...but nobody can find him.

There's no cure for a broken heart. Except, maybe, the cause for the broken heart himself.

- - -

Or the one where Derek takes off without warning and Stiles finds out he could be Derek's mate and the distance between Derek and Stiles, along with Derek's refusal to develop the bond, is slowly killing Stiles. Without Derek, Stiles will die, but no one knows where he is or how to contact him. And Stiles is barely keeping it together.

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #failwolf #mates #anon #angst

[starcurtain]

The Kinda Unhinged Ratiorine Fic I Want to Read

In an (admittedly very contrived) AU situation, Dr. Ratio finds out he's about to be cut out of his (mostly estranged) family's inheritance forever because of his complete lack of interest in continuing the family line. Which, all factors considered, does make perfectly logical sense. Investment of capital should go to the branch of the lineage most likely to benefit from it, and Cousin Tiberius has five sons and daughters already. Let the house and the trust fund go to them.

But the library.

There's absolutely no way Veritas could bear to be permanently parted from the staggering assemblage of paper volumes under his collected family's auspices. Not only would being separated from tomes so full of memories be heart-wrenching, but think of the devastating blow to his research! There are records in those archives that no other mortal eyes have ever gazed upon!

So there's only one solution for it: He needs to pass on his family name, immediately.

(Andddd the rest is under a read more because what is brevity?)

Problem 1: Veritas Ratio is very gay.

Problem 2: Statistically, single men have the lowest chance of being selected for adoption placement, and this Child Welfare Agent is looking at his alabaster head very, very strangely.

Think, Ratio, think. What is the most efficient way to solve such a tedious quandary?

The obvious first step is to increase his likelihood of being selected by the adoption agency, and the quickest way to do that is... Eureka! How elegant a design! He just needs to enter into a (temporary) committed and stable partnership to demonstrate a degree of domestic dedication and home-building prowess!

Problem 3: ...Where in the universe is he going to find a stable and committed man willing to marry him?

Ratio does not exactly possess the world's most endearing personality. He might... never have had any form of romantic relationship lasting past a one-night stand even, because it turns out most people don't like being scored a 2/10 on their technique during intercourse.

So he's probably not going to find a stable and committed man.

But... He might at least find someone willing--for the right price.

Enter Aventurine (stage left). He's as expensive as they come, the greatest reward saved for the highest bidder, but despite his festering ambitions, he's still trapped as nothing more than a high-class escort, owned by a company the IPC has on the books as selling everything but what they actually trade in: Avgin slaves.

Sigonians... The reputation--and sleazy men's curiosity--precedes him, and though he only has to get on his knees for the truly bold nowadays, he hasn't yet been able to make the ultimate gamble, pull the last string needed to finally gain his freedom: the freedom to live his life as he pleases--and to enact every ounce of vengeance he's been storing for decades like cards up his sleeves.

Until now.

Until an absolute madman shows up at the underground headquarters waving around an offer that no average person would possibly make: He wants to buy Aventurine and wed him.

(Because marrying a Sigonian thrall is a safe and sane thing that safe and sane people do.)

The offer is far too good to be trusted: A real marriage certificate but a perfectly fake marriage, a no-fault divorce once an adoption is finalized, and a guaranteed sponsor for his citizenship documents. A year or two of fake homemaking, this Veritas Ratio claims, and then Aventurine can walk away a completely free man, no strings--no chains--attached.

Well, Aventurine of the Myriad Stratagems has always held one skill dearer to his heart than any other: a crystal clear knowledge of when to fold--and when to go all in.

(...Problem 4: Amber Lord help him, Aventurine's new husband is the most irritating man in the entire universe.)

Alas, if only that was their biggest problem. Somewhere between learning to navigate the citizenship process, the adoption process, a truly unacceptable level of systemic racism, and also, increasingly, each other, Ratio and Aventurine discover that the circumstances of their lives might be far more entangled than they ever could have imagined from the beginning, and the same shadowy parties that profited off Aventurine's existence might have a vested interest in parting Ratio from valuable research secrets--permanently.

While struggling to maintain a charming and loving facade and struggling not to kill each other behind the scenes, Aventurine and Ratio also end up having to out-roll and out-plan a particularly dangerous enemy; something they can really only do together.

Or, tl;dr: Dr. Ratio chooses the most efficient but most unhinged method of finding a husband that intelligence could possibly contrive, only to determine that marrying a guy whose track record for unexplained deaths matches his track record for card counting really is the encyclopedic opposite of "committed and stable." Ridiculously enough, the trouble they get into is almost entirely Ratio's fault, the only one who is remotely convincing in front of the Child Welfare Agency is Aventurine, and sometimes it turns out the guy you married for the library ends up being the guy you married for life.

#ratiorine #no wait what is the actual ship name #aventio #raturine #hsr fandom kinda wild for that one #dr. ratio #aventurine #honkai star rail #fic ideas #tbh star rail is my 'I don't actually go here' game #because I cannot afford two gachas #but I have been absolutely infected #by social media brainrot #after seeing all the ship content for these two #is this a shitpost? #maybe #but it comes from a place of love #also known as #I think it's really funny to see a ship do everything ass backwards #and still get a happy ending somehow #also remember #comedy is gold

[lightlycareless]

warnings: none.

Naoya didn’t even wait to be officially dismissed before he was rushing—no, flying his way back home.

Always of a common occurrence for him to behave in such way, especially after spending days, if not weeks, away from the Zen’in estate. After a job well done, all that he cared about was relaxing, not having to worry about annoying teammates, complaining civilians, and the endless paperwork that always ensued, and just let the days pass alongside his family.

Those things were enough of a reward for him to actively look forward to the end the day, but after a special something blessed his life, it’s all he ever thought of.

“You’re back home earlier!” you’d chirp as soon as you felt the familiar strong pair of arms encasing you from behind, just short of leaving your bedroom. Due to the circumstances of this abrupt meeting, one could even say you were fated to meet your husband, and honestly? You were not complaining about it, if anything, you were elated to be given this surprise on an already beautiful day.

“I am” he responds, kissing the top of your head before turning you around, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning down to now kiss your lips once, twice, thri— too many times to count. “I missed my girls far too much, I had to come back.”

You giggle, tip toeing to kiss him back before tightly hugging him.

“Welcome home.” You eventually say. “We missed you too.”

“It was insufferable to be out there away from you” he sighs, taking in your scent and relaxing him.

“I can’t imagine” you respond, knowing that sentiment very well. “But that’s over, and you’re finally home with us…”

“I’m glad I’m home earlier” Naoya admits. “I was going mad if I’m being honest.”

“How’d you manage that? I thought you’d be gone for at least another week...”

“I finished some cases faster, that’s all” Naoya kisses the top of your head. “As I said, it’s impossible for me to keep away from my family—It’s either rush to come back or die.”

“Don’t say that” you pout, and he chuckles.

“I’m sorry—I didn’t mean it like that” He kisses you once more.

You always hated the days he’d have to leave for work, specifically for longer missions where their end was unforeseeable for the near future.

Because the nature of his career entailed high risks, you’d always keep a close eye on your phone, quick to reach for it whenever getting a notification, hoping it was Naoya contacting you, praying it wasn’t with any bad news.

But you guess you couldn’t complain much—you knew exactly what kind of lifestyle waited for you when marrying him, and as much as you get to dislike certain aspects of his career, you also love him for it. After all, it’s how you met in the first place, and Naoya absolutely loves his job as a sorcerer too, regardless of the… other things he didn’t like.

So, you were going to support him no matter what, as well as admire his accomplishments which had led him to be considered as one of the best sorcerers in the whole country!

And who wouldn’t to have a man like that as their husband?

“… I know” you sigh “Well… I’m glad you’re back sooner! But that means I didn’t prepare anything for your return—have you eaten? Or do you want to take a bath instead first? Oh, you must be so exhausted—” you being to fret, and Naoya can’t help but chuckle.

“While I have to admit that all of those things sound very, very good right now—but” he gives you a smile, before it turns into a pout, shyly looking away. “…I was hoping to see someone first.”

Quickly understanding what he means, you waste no time to smile back before grabbing his hand and lead him down to your shared room, where his beloved ones were eagerly waiting for their father’s return: the twin baby girls you had welcomed less than a year ago.

An unexpecting blessing indeed—and not because the thought of a family hadn’t crossed your minds. That happened just a few weeks into your marriage, if not prior.

But rather, because your dream of having a big family ended up becoming true right from the very start.

“Twins?” Naoya breathed, checking one too many times the monitor in which doctor displayed your ultrasound, as if trying to decipher the image the man so identified as two babies, or discover it was a prank.

“Yes—twins. And I can see the gender too! It looks like they’re going to be—”

“No!” you gasp, tightly closing your eyes as to avoid seeing anything that might give away their sex, not that you could understand what he saw but… “I want it to be a surprise!”

It was refreshing to see you so excited to have two babies instead of one, in contrast of his worrisome response, undoubtedly terrified for the difficulties this situation will bring, as well as the many doubts that quickly arose.

“What are we going to do with two of them?!” Naoya frets once out of the doctor’s office, with you silently agreeing with him. While it might be wonderful to have two little Naoya’s or two little Y/N’s (perhaps one of each, they hoped) the truth is that this would be far more difficult to overcome, both mentally, and specially physically for you…

“I guess we’ll have to love them” you attempt to reassure him, and he quickly succumbs to the warmth of your words.

Thankfully, the pregnancy was one with little to no difficulties, and the two girls, named Naoko and Naomi, were born as healthy and beautiful as any parent could hope, perfect for all the love they had to give.

Naoya’s eagerness is what rushed him to open the door before you could even grip the handle, swiftly sliding it open and quickly glancing form one side of the room to the other in search of his lovely ones, eventually finding them playing besides the futon, on the playmat Naoya bought them (because he’d never allow his babies to touch the cold, rough floor! What kind of father would he be if he allowed that?!) alongside one of their many, countless toys you told him to not buy because it was growing a bit excessive… only for you to comply when their adorable puppy eyes convinced you otherwise.

The girls, Naomi and Naoko, seem to be completely enthralled by the colorful toys before them at first, unaware of their father’s presence.

One of them, Naomi, had a small frown on her face while carefully analyzing the toy in her hand, as if trying to decipher how something so bright and fun, yet stiff could exist.

While the other, Naoko, spent her time crawling from one side of the playmat to the other, trying to get used to the movement, perhaps even itching to stand and finally take a few steps of her own…

A notion that makes you and Naoya sad, for both know that it’ll only be a matter of time before they manage to stand up by themselves, walk, run—

Next thing you know, they’ll be leaving the house as adults, ready to dive into their new life.

Oh, neither wants them to grow… but at the same time, there was an eagerness to see them become into the wonderful, successful women you knew they’d be. Perhaps one of them, if not both, would follow Naoya’s footsteps and become sorcerers themselves! Or maybe, they’d settle for a completely different career, something a bit more… calm, less dangerous, but equally essential.

Either way, you and Naoya were more than ready to support them in whatever endeavor they were to follow… even if it meant that both wouldn’t be able to dote at them as much as they did now.

Well, if they ever get lonely, they were sure they could have more kids, right…? Or who knows? Maybe they’d be fortunate enough to have grandchildren!

“Bngh ah!” one of the babies eventually babbles when catching a glimpse of their father—a noise that once registered by Naoya, makes all his worries disappear and focus instead on the swift way they crawl towards him, chubby hands eagerly attempting to reach him, effectively showing that they missed him as much as he did them.

“Naoko-chan, Naomi-chan!” Naoya face lightens, scooping them as soon as they reached him and wasting no time to give their soft, round chubby cheeks a big kiss. “How are my lovely girls? Did you miss me?”

Naomi, the most talkative of the two, is quick to babble in such a manner that gives the impression she understood what he was saying. He smiles.

“Ah, I missed you too!” And Naoya takes this opportunity to give them another kiss, one that now makes Naomi and Naoko giggle. “It was horrible out there, you know? I couldn’t wait to get home with mama and you—I hope you two were good girls while I was away, hm?”

Naomi coos in response, fully engaged in conversation with her dada, while Naoko simply stares at him, placing her soft hand over his face before grasping a thread of his hair—she was always enthralled by the duality of its color, and it made you believe that when she’s older, she might want to dye her hair too…

“I know you were” he says. You always loved how responsive he was to her nonsensical babbles, it’s almost as if he understood her! Might be the reason why she was so interactive in the first place, because there was always someone playing along to her tune. “You’re my daughters after all!”

Naomi smiles, relishing the compliment, but Naoko only squirms, having gotten bored from his hair and wanting to return to her crawling journey. Her father kisses her one last time before putting her back on the floor, where she was quick to pick up from where she left off… but even then, Naoko doesn’t stray much far from her father, crawling around him instead.

You watch the whole scene with great awe, for your heart had greatly missed these heartwarming moments, your heart finding some relief in seeing your family reunited and safe once again.

A smile parts your lips as you decide to take a seat by the futon, with your husband joining you soon after, all whilst still holding Naomi in his arms.

“What did my girls do today?” he asks, obviously referring to you, but Naomi wins you to it as she starts to babble, making the two chuckle out of amusement.

The baby stops, giving the two a curious look as if wondering what they were laughing at. Naomi didn’t intend her reaction to be as adorable as it turned out to be, but you and Naoya just couldn’t help laughing again—unfortunately this time, her face deepened into a frown.

“Oh, it’s nothing baby” you reassure her while pinching her cheek—a gesture that at first has her further confused, but when she sees the smile on your face and the innocence of your touch, she can’t help but to give you a bright smile as well before continuing with the conversation.

“Ah, really?” Naoya says, stringing along with his daughter. “And did you have fun at the park?”

You blink. Did he just…?

Guess he does understand her after all.

“Ranta told me” Your husband explains, as if sensing the disturbance in your mind, masking you sigh. You had to admit you were a bit worried there, believing that you were miscalculating your skills as a parent… “Scared you, didn’t I?”

“A bit” you chuckle and Naoya just smiles.

Naomi would continue babbling on, occasionally raising her hands to add a dramatic effect to her retelling, which makes your husband’s heart flutter— in that aspect, she definitely takes after you.

“I’m glad you had fun, love” he responds. “Maybe next time I can join you and your sister.”

She nods earnestly, and Naoya’s heart finally burst out his chest.

“That’s it. I’m retiring from work; I’m never leaving the estate” he darkly promises.

“Naoya!” you gasp “You—I mean, you can but you’ll regret it!”

“How could you tell me that, when I have these beautiful babies at home?!” he cries back, and you must agree with him, if it were the other way around you don’t think you’d be able to leave them behind…

“Life is cold out there, void of any love. I’d rather be here with you, and my daughters, and dote on both till I can’t no more.”

You give him a tight smile, feeling nothing but empathy for him and the countless sacrifices he must make because of his career.

There’s no doubt in your mind that Naoya loves his family very, very much, and would go to great lengths to ensure their safety and happiness. And while you spend every single day appreciating him for it, there’s this lingering sensation on the back of your mind that suggests you should do something more for him—something special to demonstrate to him that he’s appreciated for all he’s done for you and your daughters. Because no one knows more about the efforts he’s put both into his career and family, than you.

It wasn’t much, at least compared to what he’s done you suppose (If Naoya heard you, oh, he’d be quick to tell you otherwise—to him, you’ve done nothing but the best.) but you were proud to have made a place where Naoya feels cherished and protected. Where he can be himself, your husband, and not the heir with unrealistic expectations everyone else burdened him with, sometimes even berated.

And you’d do anything in your power to keep it that way, as well for your daughters.

“When is your next holiday?” you ask, now holding Naoko who has been tugging at your sleeve for the past few seconds, growing jealous of Naomi’s position and wanting to be held too. She wanted to get up herself, and almost did so too! However, her legs were still not used to her weight, so she could barely take a step before almost falling, an incident avoided thanks to your quick reflexes.

“Not until next month, I believe” he responds while squeezing Naomi’s cheeks—he always thought that out of the two, the babies looked the most like you. Of course, judging by how easy it was for him to tease their cheeks, a curse you had unknowingly bestowed on your daughters. “Why?”

“Oh, nothing” you smile, shrugging. “Just something I was wondering…”

Naoya smiles, because after years and years of knowing you, he rightfully assumes you’re planning something—and surprises from you are always well received, so he lets the topic die soon after.

He sighs.

“I’m tired” he says, laying back on the futon and placing Naomi over his chest. Once she’s comfortable, he rests his hand over her back, caressing her softly.

“How was work, outside of exhausting?” you ask, trying to hold Naoko in place for she’d begun to squirm yet again, this time from seeing her sister comfortably laying over their dad. Victim to her adorableness, you quickly succumb to her desires and carefully place her over Naoya’s chest, who quickly accommodates her under his embrace without complaint.

“Awful” Naoya admits. “Everyone always has something to say, something to suggest, but of course, no one ever cares to do what needs to be done. And it forces me to step in and do their job along mine!”

“Bah!” Naomi exclaims, a frown on her face as she tightly clutches his chest, seemingly annoyed by the mistreatment of her father. Naoya laughs.

“I know! Sometimes it feels like I’m the only capable one there” he adds “I’m glad you don’t think the same, it’s hard to always be right, isn’t?”

You giggle.

“Only you understand me, Naomi” he sighs.

“Nah!” It’s Naoko’s time to retort, Naoya raises his eyebrows.

“And you too, of course! How could I forget?” Naoya is quick to apologize, hugging them closer to him. “There’s no one else that understands me better than the two of you, and mama of course. My closest confidants…”

“You don’t need to say that Naoya. I won’t get jealous, you know?” you murmur. “Although… I wouldn’t mind getting some of the attention… I’ve been a good girl too.”

Your husband immediately smirks, knowing very well what you mean by that implication, and honestly? It’s something he’s thought of, constantly, every time he’s away. And it’s the bare minimum he could do for you, after all, worship you as the goddess you are to him.

“I’ll give you all the attention you want soon enough—You’re my favorite girl, after all.” He promises with a wink, and you blush, his words filling you with anticipation.

“Don’t say that in front of the kids…” you murmur, beyond flustered at this point, which makes him chuckle.

“What? It’s not like they don’t know how much I love you” he responds, and you just keep getting warmer. “I love you.”

“I know.” you whisper. “I love you too.”

He smiles.

“I’ll have all day and the day after tomorrow off.” he reveals. “So, for the next few hours, I’m all yours.”

“Really?” you gasp, excitement twinkling in your eyes. This was such wonderful news, exactly what you wanted to happen! “There’s actually so many things I’d like to do.”

“Sure, go ahead” Naoya says, leaning further into the pillow as the weight of his two baby girls resting of his chest beings to soothe him. “What do you have in mind for tomorrow…?”

“Well, I was hoping we could go down to the village” you begin. “I was told by the staff that a market has been set up and I was hoping to check it out. Now that you’re here, I think we can buy some new clothes for our dumplings, hopefully some cute onesies for the upcoming cold weather—Ah, I can’t believe they’re already growing out of their clothes! I don’t want them to grow anymore…”

“Hmm, I know…” he admits with a murmur before sighing. “I’d like to get my hands on some street food for a change too…”

“That’s easy to arrange!” you say with a big grin, already envisioning the great day you’d have with your family. “Haruko-chan told me that a lot of food vendors set up so, you’re going to have many options to choose from! If not, she can always prepare something. Oh, and talking about food… Would you like me to get you something to eat? And maybe afterwards you’d like a bath?—You must be starving, and tired too.”

“Mmhmm…”

“I’ll prepare you both, then” you declare. “I just have to know what you want to eat, if there’s something you’d like in specific, or do you leave that choice to me?”

“Anything… really…” he yawns. “I don’t mind. I’m just… hungry…”

“Are you sure…? You just came back home and I wanted to do something special for you.”

“su…r….”

…

…

…

“Naoya…?” You ask.

…

…

Silence.

“Naoya?” you ask once more, noting that silence between the two only grew. “Naoya”

Too focused on the day you were planning, you failed to acknowledge the way his eyes slowly began to blink, his breath deepening, and his words becoming slurry… until he was finally, asleep.

But perhaps what moved you the most was how your adorable twins were quick to mimic him, resting their faces against his chest as they began to lightly snore.

It was always a feat to get the twins to fall asleep, sometimes an impossible challenge, but when it came to Naoya, it was nothing but a piece of cake—he just had hold them against his chest before they began to relax, slowly drifting away before inevitably succumbing to slumber.

In your defense, there was something comforting about his arms that even you fell victim to them. You’re not even sure if he’s aware of that, or perhaps he is and abuses that hidden power? Either way, you were glad that just as you were able to find peace in his hold, your daughters too. And of course, they would, he’s their father who loves them very, very much.

A smile parts your lips as you glance at the lovely image one last time before deciding to take your phone out and capture the moment with a photo, one that you’d send to Naoya later so both could gush at it.

After taking the picture and putting the phone away, you get this sensation of how comfortable it must be to join them for a nap, but then, the thought of tending to your husband’s return briefly halts you, pushing you into a discussion.

Should you relish this moment as a family, or move on with your duties…?

There was no struggle to endure—it had been so long since the four had been like this, you knew you had to make the most of it.

Thus, you crawl towards your husband’s side, where Naoko was resting, silently to not wake them up, and giving each a soft kiss on the top of their head before laying down, resting your head by his shoulder, and draping your arm over him.

Once comfortable, you glance up to him, the relaxed sight of him warming your heart as you lean to kiss his jaw one last time, before accommodating yourself once again.

Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes.

“Welcome home” you murmur sweetly, and a few moments later, you fall asleep.

Sir—I... I need to write more. Thankfully, I have another one in the works :)

#naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

[orphicdreamers-wp]

Happiness— Jack Hughes

Summary: In which Jack and your marriage has run its course.

Content Warning; Angst without a happy ending, divorce, emotional distress, etc

Pairings: Fem Reader x Jack Hughes, Fem Reader x Nico Hischier

Inspired by ‘Happiness’ By Taylor Swift

All the years I’ve given is just shit we’re dividing up

You stared at Jack hopelessly. You and him had been together since you were 15 years old. Now you sat oceans away from each other. The lawyer cleared her throat, “So all we’re doing here today is dividing assets before we get further into the divorce.” There was less than ten feet separating you and your husband of 4 years. However you felt like you were standing on separate continents. Danielle, the lawyer continued, “Neither of you brought dependents into the marriage is that correct?” You cleared your throat, “Yes, neither of us has children.”

Danielle nodded, “So it seems all we really need to cover is the properties. There’s the skyrise apartment in New Jersey, the high rise loft in NYC, the condo in Tampa and the apartment in Toronto.” Jack spoke up, “I only want the apartment in Jersey and Toronto.” Danielle turned to you with an expecting look on her face. You looked at Jack and let out a defeated sigh, “That’s fine. I didn’t come here to fight.” Jack shook his head slightly and faced Danielle who went on to explain the regulations on divorce and ownership of properties.

I hope she’ll be a beautiful fool who takes me spot next to you.

This week had been really rough for you. You and Jack’s fifth anniversary would have been this week, and working so closely with Jack wasn’t helping. You had been cleaning your lens to your camera you’d used for tonight’s game when the players filed off the ice. Jack ending the line of players, and scoffing to himself as you smiled at him kindly. He walked past you and stopped when he he heard a feminine voice call out to him.

Out of habit you looked up to watch the scene unfold. A beautiful woman dressed in a long bright red furry coat and black leather pants with perfectly blown out black curls and bright red lipstick approached him and enveloped him into her embrace. You couldn’t make out the words that were being shared but the encounter ended with the woman kissing Jack warmly. You felt your heart drop into your stomach and you shoved your stuff into your bag and hurried to your office to upload the photos to your computer and hard drive.

No one teaches you what to do, when a good man hurts you and you know you hurt him too.

The holiday season crept up on you this year. You’d been too wrapped up in rebuilding your life and relationship with yourself am your divorce. You had been roped into doing a Secret Santa with the players and the other social media administrators. You were somewhat disappointed in the fact you pulled Jack’s name. The holidays had always been the best time of year for you two. This would be the first year you weren’t together.

Jack was officially cursed, his girlfriend, Tessa had just found out that she was pregnant and then he was roped into doing Secret Santa. And with his luck this year he drew your name. He hadn’t spoken to you in a higher capacity then, “Are we done here?” Or “Where should I stand?” since the divorce was made final. He’d always sneered in your direction whenever he noticed you lingering or trying to be friendly with him. He just wasn’t ready for it to be amicable yet. He figured he’d probably just get you a candle or a gift card or something. If you’d gotten him you’d do the same thing.

You’d known Jack had grown to dislike the holidays since he and his siblings were all split up for Christmas due to their hockey schedules. You also knew that the Devils didn’t play again until the weekend after New Year’s. So you decided to buy two first class tickets to Vancouver for Jack and Luke, admittedly you went over the budget but you had saved the money all year for you and Jack to go for Christmas anyways. So you put those in a cute envelope and wrote a small note and slipped it in the envelope before sealing it and writing Jack’s name in beautiful calligraphy.

You slipped it onto the table of gifts on your way to your office the morning of the exchange. You went to your office and got to work updating Instagram and Twitter accounts. Eventually you ventured out to go get a cup of coffee, you had to walk past the table of gifts so you figured you would check to see if your gift was there and it wasn’t so you assumed it may have been in the possession of your secret Santa still. You went to get your coffee and drank it before rinsing your mug and putting it in the dish drainer after. You returned to your office and got out your camera and went to get some practice shots.

Hours later after practice everyone was ready to do the gift exchange so you all filed into the conference room. The gifts were passed out and you watched quietly as Jack picked up his envelope and Nico commented on the pretty handwriting. Luke glanced over at you, recognizing the handwriting from a birthday card he’d received from you and Jack a few years earlier. Jack opened the envelope and immediately broke out into a huge grin, “Because I know you miss them. Go home(Take Luke too.) It’s two first class tickets to Vancouver.” Luke looked at you as Jack looked around the room, “Who got these?” Everyone stayed quiet and Tyler, a right winger ended the silence by opening his gift which turned out to be a pair of arthritis socks given to him by Ethan.

You went to open yours, hopeful since it was a decent sized box. Your smile flattened as you lifted the top of the box. Inside were a box of tissues, a bottle of 2 in 1 shampoo and conditioner conditioner, eye masks, concealer, some breath mints and some baby wipes. Tyler’s shit eating grin he’d been sporting the entire ordeal dropped as he caught a glimpse of the contents of the gift. He looked up, “You better be fucking around Hughes. You didn’t give her just that right? I mean how big of a douche can you be?” You waved it off, “It’s fine Ty. I don’t mind. There’s always a bad gift right?”

Nico shook his head spoke up, “No way sugar, there’s bad gifts like what I got and there’s unacceptable gifts.” Jack looked down at his feet, feeling internally bad upon seeing tears forming in your eyes as you defended probably the worst gift in the history of Secret Santa. Luke turned to his brother and spoke in a low tone, “You know she got you right? I mean you were her husband for 4 years you have to recognize her handwriting.” Jack froze as he looked at his brother who’d found a picture of a birthday card he’d received that had Jack’s name in the identical handwriting. He looked up to find you had left the room, leaving your gift on the table.

There’ll be happiness after you, but there was happiness because of you

It was the end of the season Devil’s banquet and you still had to shoot photos. You were sitting on the edge of the stage in a silk pale blue shimmery gown with a slit up the side and your hair pulled back and light lipstick adorning your otherwise makeup free face. You had your eye pressed against the viewfinder as you took pictures of the team and their significance others. Your eyes admittedly landing on Jack and his girlfriend more than they should. You were slightly startled when Nico sat down beside you, “So how’s my best girl doing tonight?”

You laughed, “Nico just because I’m your girlfriend doesn’t mean I have to be your best girl.” Nico smiled, “I know, but you’re still my best girl.” You smiled, “I’m alright Honey. You look nice.” Nico pressed a kiss against your cheek, “You look like Cinderella.” You giggled, “Does that make you Prince Charming?” Nico grinned, “Darling, I’d be Shrek if it made you happy.”

All you want from me now is the green light of forgiveness. You haven’t met the new me yet, and I think she’ll give you that.

You were straightening your office up before heading out for the weekend. You were logging out of your desktop when a knock on your door startled you. Jack smiled softly and held his hands up in surrender, “I shouldn’t have snuck up on you. I’m sorry.” You smiled as you scrawled a note for yourself to change your water filter next week, “You’re good Jack, what’s up? I’m on my way out now.” Jack rubbed his hands against his jeans, “I just want to apologize for everything, the divorce and all.”

You smiled, “Don’t worry about it Jack.” Jack shook his head in disagreement, “No way, I was royally shitty to you before, during and after the divorce was finalized. I’m sorry I treated you like that. I just guess I didn’t realize that my best friend was going through a divorce too not just me.” You smiled softly, “It’s okay Jack. It was your first time going through a divorce too. We just weren’t meant to be married anymore. I mean we got married like 5 seconds after we graduated high school. It wasn’t realistically going to work.” Jack laughed softly, “Are you sure we’re all good?”

You grinned as you crossed the room and engulfed him into a warm hug, “I’m going home to my boyfriend and your girlfriend is having a baby Hughie. We’re all good.” Jack smiled, “Thanks Y/n, I’ve missed being friends.” You smiled as you and him exited your office, “Me too. Drive safe Hughes, tell the boys I said hello and give your mom my love.” You walked away from Jack finally finding your inner happiness.

#fanfic #hockey #hockey player x reader #nhl fanfiction #nhl #jack hughes x reader #jack x reader #jack hughes #new jersey devils #nj devils #divorce