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#he hates being taken away from his duties
pixelatedraindrops · 5 months
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We need to imprison Makoto in the Blanket Cocoon so he can't escape and work while he's sick
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He's not very happy about that ;w;
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hannieehaee · 5 months
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TOO MUCH
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18+ / mdi
summary: after a few weeks of constant overtime work slouching over a desk, you feel as if your back is about to give out on you. fortunately for you, your best friend seungcheol is a professional masseuse! unfortunately for you, you're unsure of how you'll keep your crush on your best friend at bay while on his massage bed, ass up and oiled up.
content: masseuse!seungcheol, friends to lovers, pining (act surprised), touch-starved reader, inexperienced reader, very uninformed view of what being a masseuse is like oops, afab reader, smut, fingering, oil is involved, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.
wc: 7.9k
a/n: as someone who's had horrible back pain ever since i was a child, this is based on mostly real events </3 also not 100% proofread
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support me through a one-time tip! <3
Your back was killing you.
It had been weeks since you'd gotten some proper rest, having made the terrible decision to take on some overtime at work, not knowing that your supervisor would get so used to the extra help she would continue to schedule you more hours week after week, thus destroying your back in the process. You knew that you could simply say no, but the extra money was helpful. You had wanted to start saving up a little more so you could finally move out of your shitty neighborhood, so the situation kind of worked out. The money would also go to paying your student loans, meaning you really couldn't miss this chance for an increase in income. It was kind of a win-win situation, except your poor back was the sole loser.
Your job didn't involve too much movement, no. It was mostly office work, which required you to sit on your hunched back for 10 hours per day, only allotting yourself for three quick 15-minute breaks and a 30 lunch break in which you would still be hunched over as you ate. You knew it was a bad habit, but sitting there for so many hours, you'd forget to sit up straight as you looked into the computer screen, and even if you fixed your posture while working, your back was just not built for standing still for such long periods of time. There was really no saving your back from its stiff fate at this point. These work hours also didn't allow you time to even work out or stretch in order to keep your body at least a little active and maybe prevent your pain a tiny bit.
Your best friend Seungcheol constantly scolded you over your bad posture. It wasn't like you actually had bad posture, okay? You weren't constantly hunched over, nor were you carrying all your weight on your shoulders. This was a recent development resulting directly from your increased work hours. But Seungcheol, being a masseuse, always noticed the slightest changes in your physique, claiming he could spot a sore back from a mile away, with yours being a very obvious case. He could notice your head standing a little lower, digging into your shoulders more and more as the days went by. He also took notice of your constant wincing and your futile attempts at rubbing your own shoulders whenever the soreness got too annoying.
He pitied you, really. He hated seeing you in pain. Being your best friend, he felt it as his duty to try and relieve it in any way he could. On top of having most of your free time being taken over by work, he hated to think that you were also in pain during the few hours you spent away from the office. He had communicated all these concerns to you over the past few weeks, trying to convince you to let him give you a massage in order to relieve the pain, but you'd consistently refused. He was unsure as to why, and being denied a proper reason made him want to keep on insisting until you finally allowed him to rid you of your discomfort.
"One massage won't fix my issues," you'd argued over and over again. To which he simply responded by saying he could just give you a standing appointment every week! He was very insistent on helping you, wanting to relieve you of at least some of the pain. But you were even more insistent in denying him. You were too busy to use up the little bit of free time you had going to the spa Seungcheol worked at. You also didn't think a massage would really be the ultimate solution, despite how badly your sore shoulders begged for relief. Yeah, sure, a massage might alleviate the pain for a bit, but it would simply come back after another week at the office. That, and the fact that the spa Seungcheol worked at was only open during your work hours, meaning you'd have to either haul ass over there during your thirty minute lunch, or take time off. Both were huge no's to you. There were just far too many reasons as to why not take him up on his offer, you argued both to him and yourself. But you knew these were simply excuses. Your main reason had been something you'd kept deep within yourself. You were starving for his touch, but scared of how your body would react to it.
You were generally an averagely touchy person with friends and family. Not overly touchy, but arguably an appropriate amount. It had only been a little over a year or so since you'd begun to feel a bit strange at the lack of intimate touch you'd experienced thus far in your life. While all your friends had experimented and had fun during college, you were a little shier and more reserved, rendering you a bit behind the rest of the herd in that area. It wasn't very noticeable to all. It wasn't like your friends were aware about how sexually frustrated you'd grown over the years due to your lack of experience, but you'd still tried to keep it a secret how unaccustomed you were to more intimate forms of physical touch. Even something as innocent as a massage from a friend. You'd be as touchy as any friend would expect, but still felt a slightly strange sensation when it came to any mention of more intimate activities. You'd somehow grown used to a lack of touch, despite being best friends with the touchiest person alive. You usually avoided being too physically affectionate with Seuncheol anyways, having harbored a small crush on him when you'd first met and wanting to avoid any of your emotions getting in the way of a friendship you treasured so much. You'd known that a massage from the man would be a huge nono, all things considered, which was where all your denials stemmed from.
You had been friends with Seungcheol since college. You had both shared a major, meaning that you kept bumping into each other day after day, attending almost all the same classes freshman year. You had taken a quick liking to each other, befriending one another almost immediately. Despite having had a crush on the man at first sight, you were content with the friendship that had blossomed instead. You'd even ended up joining Seungcheol's little friend group, being friends with most of them even to this day. This unexpected closeness during your first year led you to coordinate your schedules the following three years, thus seeing each other literally every day you were on campus. Even now, having recently graduated college, you were still best friends, meeting up constantly. Despite sharing a major, you both had ended up in drastically different places after college. You had gone for the corporate route while Seungcheol suddenly developed a passion for physical therapy, eventually becoming a massage therapist. At the time, however, he worked at a luxury spa downtown, being known as one of their best masseuses and singlehandedly earning the establishment an increase from a four-star rating to five stars just from the quality of his work alone.
You had visited Seungcheol's work before, quickly deciding it just wasn't your vibe. The place was nice and perfectly polished, but upon seeing a few of the masseuses' skills in action, you realized it'd be better for your friendship if you avoided such intimate contact with one another. Yes, you knew massages were not inherently intimate, but being oiled up and felt up by someone who was as close to you as Seungcheol just didn't ring like a good idea to you. It also didn't help that the massive crush you had on the man in college seemed to be resurfacing as of late. You believed to have gotten over it a few months into senior year, but you didn't want to risk reviving it under any circumstances.
However, despite your constant rejections, Seungcheol continued to beg you to let him take care of your problem, and denying him was something that pained both you and your back. So you now found yourself with two issues; back pain, and a very pouty Seungcheol.
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"Fuck, my back is killing me," you repeated for the millionth time in the past five hours since you had woken up. You had intended to enjoy your rare day off, even waking up a little earlier than intended so you could make plans with your roommates, but your plans quickly died on you as soon as you woke up, body stiff as a rock and your soreness worse than ever.
"We get it! You're in pain. So go do something about it!", whined your friend Seungkwan in return, not even bothering to look at you from his phone, "It's bad enough I had to cancel my plans to stay here and take care of you. Just go get oiled up by Cheol and stop making this my problem!"
If there was anything Seungkwan was, it was direct. He was right. Your pain was getting out of hand. And the longer you waited, the worse it would get. Except he didn't know about your calamity to its full extent.
"Listen, I don't even have the money to afford his fancy spa. Have you been there? One day is worth a whole day's pay!"
"Please. It's Seungcheol. He'll get you in for free. Hell, he'll even pay you to go."
"I don't have time to go!", another excuse. A few more and Seungkwan might even begin to crack the code behind your insistent refusal.
He suddenly straightened up from his laid-back position, staring directly in your direction, "All the solutions are there. You're the problem. It's like you want to be in pain! I could literally call him up right now and he'd drop work to come help you. Just get the damn massage!"
This is how a lot of your conversations went lately. Well, the very few conversations you could have nowadays due to your heavy workload. You'd occasionally even have to bring work home even after having been there for half the day. Your eight hours of sleep a night were not even pleasurable anymore, as you felt stiff as a rock the moment you attempted to lay down. The only comfortable stance, ironically, was hunched over in front of a computer. It was like you'd frozen into that pose, feeling immeasurable pain any time you attempted to move any other way. You'd tried pilates, stretches, yoga. Nothing worked. Maybe Cheol's massage really was the only solution, but it'd been so long since you began denying him you now felt a little silly going back on your word. That, and your other obvious issues.
"I'll be fine, Kwan! Just leave. You don't have to take care of me, I just need to lay for a bit."
"You'll lay there all day, I know you. Your life's become a constant state of sleep and work. Maybe you should just quit," he suggested, seemingly moving on from the Cheol topic. Finally.
"Are you crazy? Do you have any idea how much debt I have to pay off? I don't wanna be paying this off for the rest of my life. I'd rather suffer for a few years now and just get it out of the way," you reasoned, although not sounding very reasonable even to yourself. What's the rush?, a voice in the back of your head would sometimes whisper, but you'd just ignore it.
"Fine," he tsk'd. "Rot in your own misery, I'm going out with Kyeom and Soonie. If I come back and you've morphed into a rock, don't say I didn't warn you," and with that, he announced his departure, going forward with the plans you had made with your friends before your back had gotten in the way.
You knew your friend was kidding, but the unbearable pain would sometimes have you wonder. Should you just go to Cheol? What was the worst that could happen of you just let him touch you? His touch would be purely platonic, you were sure of that. But you feared that it would rekindle your feelings even more, and maybe that your high-strung self would not be able to handle such touch from him without finally snapping.
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You were weak. This wasn't much of a secret among your friend group, or anyone really. Which is why you now found yourself walking through the doors of Seungcheol's spa. You had spent about an hour rotting in your own misery, as Seungkwan had put it, before deciding to power through your pain and drive down to where you knew Seungcheol was currently working a shift. You hadn't called him, not wanting to give him the wrong impression. You weren't planning on booking a massage today, no. You couldn't have even if you wanted, knowing that the spa Seungcheol worked at was a bit renown in town and that their bookings went weeks back. You had just wanted to give it another try. Maybe visual learning would convince your stubborn self to accept Cheol's help for once.
You entered the establishment, already knowing exactly where to go to find out about Seungcheol's whereabouts. You walked to the receptionist, opening your mouth to ask for assistance before being rudely interrupted.
"Sorry. We're booked for the day. Our next open bookings begin in December. Try again then," the conversation had ended before it began, causing you to close your mouth right back up.
Once more, you opened your mouth to speak, maybe respond in equally passive aggressive tone as the girl had, but you were rudely interrupted once again, except this time it was by a warmer, more welcoming voice.
"Y/N? What are you doing here?", you could not see him from your angle, needing to turn around to face the source of the sound, but you could instantly hear the smile in his voice, clearly both happy and shocked to find you here of all people.
You turned around, now facing the boy. He was wearing his usual 'uniform', which really just consisted of some tight black slacks and a matching black short-sleeve top tucked into his pants. You'd forgotten how well his uniform fit him. It must've been one of the reasons why his massages were rated so high, you thought.
"Hey, Cheol ..." you smiled awkwardly, having been caught off guard by the man. You'd meant to surprise him, not the other way around.
"I wasn't expecting you. Did you call? Did you make an appointment?!", his eyes widened at the possibility, looking past you and at the receptionist as if to confirm his inquiry.
"No, Cheol. I told you I didn't want a massage. I came to see you, actually," well that was half true. You had wanted to see your friend in his element, maybe even convince yourself of finally taking him up on his offer. You had just wanted to see if you could handle that type of touch from your best friend considering your situation (re: a recovering case of touch starvation with a mixture of 'I might kind of maybe still have a bit of a crush on my bff').
To be completely honest, you were somewhat afraid. You'd hadn't felt any form of intimate touch in a long while or, well, ever. And to have it come from your best friend would only open up a can of worms you had wanted to keep under lock and key ever since meeting the man. Every excuse you'd given thus far to reject him bad been true, but had also been just that; an excuse. You knew that Seungcheol's treatment would help you lessen an issue that had now grown past your own personal ability to manage on your own. Which is why you were now here, willing to give it a try. You had self control, right? What was the worst that could happen if you let your best friend get his hands on you, your bare back as he rubbed it with oil? You'd deal with the logistics later, now you just wanted to see exactly what your friend was offering you.
"Me? What's up?", he had begun to walk you towards his rest area, away from the mean receptionist as he continued conversation with you.
"Well, I, uh, I was thinking about your offer ..."
"Really?! You wanna do it? I can clear up my schedule! Just let me talk to Stacy real quick and-"
"Cheol!", you had to physically hold him back from walking back to the reception to rearrange his day. He seemed way too excited to help you out.
"I haven't decided yet, Cheol. I was just thinking, well, wondering if it'd be okay for me to maybe shadow you for a while or something? Just to see what it'd be like?"
To any outsider you must've sounded like an idiot, somehow worrying over something that was arguably the most relaxing experience a person could possibly have. Ironically. What people didn't understand was the effect Seungcheol could have on a person. Specially a touch-starved, heavily emotionally invested, weak individual such as yourself. Denying your crush on Seungcheol was really the only defense you had left at this point. You could admit to your fears of being touched by Cheol, chalking it up to your lack of experience at being touched in general, but you could not even admit that your crush had maybe, perhaps, possibly, creeped back up a while back. It didn't help that no one you knew was aware of your sensitive state when it came to intimate contact. This was intel you hadn't even let your best friend in on. Maybe if it had been someone else, you would've accepted the massage already. You knew it didn't have to be an intimate interaction, it was just the fact that Cheol would be doing it that made it seem that way to you. But you knew his feelings would be hurt if you denied him and went to someone else. You'd dragged it out for far too long, making such a simple thing way too complicated.
~
Cheol easily agreed to your request, seemingly excited to even have you around his workplace at all. It was cute, really. He let you know that his next booking would start in ten minutes or so, so you waited with him during his break. Despite not receiving a massage for yourself, he provided you with a robe to change into due to the humidity most of their rooms tended to have during a session.
"Are you sure it's okay that I'm here? Won't the client mind?"
"Nah. She's a regular, she tends to forget her own name five minutes in," he winked at you. Well, that was reassuring ..
The massage began soon after. The woman, probably in her early 40's, walked in, gave Seungcheol a friendly greeting and proceeded to lay down, barely even acknowledging your presence in the back of the room. Cheol gave some weak excuse of 'she's in training, just showing her the ropes' to justify your presence, earning an uninterested hum in acknowledgment from the woman before she had begun taking off her robe and gotten on the bed in preparation for her awaited session. She was't fully naked but had very thin underwear on, meaning you could practically see every detail from her back. Her face-down position gave you a perfect angle to her almost-bare ass as Seungcheol prepared the oils he had set on the table beside him. There was also some incense burning in the room, along with some steam to help with ambience.
The massage began very slowly, allowing Seungcheol to deliver very soft touches as he spread the oil around her back. He even went as far as the back of her legs and ass, reaching as far as her feet. The first few minutes simply consisted of him spreading the oil around. You hadn't known Seungcheol gave full body massages til now. Before having started the session, Cheol had told you 'Pay close attention. This is what I'll do to you when you agree.' Had he meant he'd be running his hands up and down your entire body? The thought made you shudder, almost missing the show in front of you.
His next movements were harsher, but in a clearly pleasurable way. He began to knead roughly at the woman's shoulders, making her groan at the pleasurable pain. He did this for a while, clearly having found a point of tension in that area. His thumbs focused on specific areas of tension that you were familiar with; the same areas you'd known your back had knots in. Even just seeing it made the sore parts of your back beg for release of tension. When he moved on, he targeted the upper center of her back, just below where her breasts were located on the opposite side of her body. He rubbed at the sides, sliding his hands up and down the length of her back as he massaged expertly. He continually used the extra strength of his thumbs to pressure and rub at the sore spots. He didn't even have to ask where it hurt, it seemed like he could just detect it on his own. This was clearly exerting the woman, as she moaned and sighed at the feeling of Seungcheol's hands on her. It was clearly exerting Seungcheol too, who was letting out groans from his own efforts.
You imagined yourself in her position, wanting to be the sole receiver of his touches and sounds. You felt ashamed, but the act was making your body heat up. You knew it was purely innocent, and with the purpose of relaxation, but you couldn't help yourself. You wanted to blame the humidity in the room, or maybe the cozy material of your robe, but there was only one culprit; Choi Seungcheol. You had been right to believe that his touch would be your undoing. Simply hearing him was enough to make you lightheaded. You had lost track of where the massage had went, only thinking about the man in the room now. You cursed your vivid imagination for the images it was putting in your head just at the mere sounds coming from your friend.
The massage continued for a while, eventually sending the woman into a deep slumber. Cheol kept re-applying oil to her back throughout the session, even lowering his hands all the way to knead at her ass and the back of her legs during some points. That made you extra lightheaded. Not just at the thought of Seungcheol touching you in the same way, but knowing he'd have the magic touch able to release the tension trapped all over your back. You couldn't blame the woman for the sounds she made or the way she fell asleep due to the pleasure. You could only imagine your own reaction at Seungcheol doing the same to you. Even just seeing the way he rubbed at the skin had your back aching for the same release of pressure from the tightest spots on your back.
You were still slightly affected by the time the woman had woken up and left, leaving you and Cheol alone in the room, promising Seungcheol she'd be back soon as she exited. He approached you with a smile, clearly proud of having shown you his skills in action.
"So, what did you think?"
"I, uh, you're really good, Cheol. I'm surprised."
"Surprised? I've been telling you I'm the best for months! C'mon, there's no way you don't want a massage after seeing that," he rebutted, smirking with confidence.
You remained silent for a second, pondering as to whether or not you should move forward with this. He was right. He was clearly talented at it, and he really just wanted to help. Your aching back was begging for it, and so were the other aching parts of your body. But you didn't know if you could hold back without embarrassing yourself at your best friend's hands on you in such an intimate way.
Your best friend must've taken notice of your silence, speaking up again, but in a more serious yet sympathetic manner.
"Listen. I know you can be a bit .. shy about these things. If it helps, we can just set up at my apartment? I have a massage bed there too! It would just be the two of us. C'mon, what do you say?", he gave you puppy eyes as he usually did when asking for something.
He was always hard to deny. And in this vulnerable moment, with your back begging for relief and your body aching for his touch, you weren't surprised when you found yourself muttering a 'yes' in affirmation.
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A few days passed. You and Cheol ended up having to coordinate your days off. It had actually been almost a full week until you were able to see each other again, which for you meant yet another week of grueling pain you had to put up with. You were really beginning to consider putting an end to the overtime you'd been working. Maybe after the massage you could begin to work less hours in order to lessen the pain. Maybe even take Cheol up on his offer of getting a standing appointment to lessen the pain more and more and prevent it from coming back again. It was something to think about. But now you had better things to worry about. Those things taking form in the man standing on the opposite side of the door in front of you.
You had agreed on today, a Saturday night, in order for you to come to his apartment and receive the dreaded massage. Cheol had worked all day today, which made you feel a bit bad about making him basically step back into his work duties but this time at home. He reassured you it was more than fine, reasoning that you'd worked all week and he had just wanted to work around your busy schedule. You appreciated his efforts to work with you, having always known Cheol to put your comfort before anything else. Which was yet another reason why you felt badly at receiving this favor from him. To anyone else it might've just been a massage, but you knew that to Cheol this was a service he was used to getting paid for, a talent which he put effort into. You felt like both like a leech and like a source of annoyance due to this whole ordeal.
You put all your thoughts aside and knocked on the door, knowing it was now time to forget about all your worries and just let Seungcheol take care of you. He opened the door almost immediately, almost as if he'd been waiting on the other side of it, ear against the door while your internal monologue went off in your head.
"You're here!", he smiled widely at you, ushering you in.
"You invited me, Cheol. I wasn't about to ditch you."
"But you thought about it, didn't you?", he kinda had you there. You did consider it, but you knew your best friend would've tracked you down sooner or later anyways.
"Listen, I know you're nervous, but there's nothing to be nervous about! I'll take care of you. It won't be awkward, I swear," despite having never told him of your lack of experience with touch, you always assumed he had some idea of it. He didn't know the full story, though. Not about the fact that your issue with the massage was being touched by him; the former source of your desires.
"It's .. it's fine, Cheol. I'm not nervous, I promise. Just don't know what to expect, that's all."
"I'll guide you through it. I set out the massage table for you in my room. I have the oils ready too. Oh! Did you bring a bikini to change into?"
Right. Last time you spoke he had asked you to bring either a bikini or some comfortable underwear. He's said something about needing your body as nude as possible ('within your comfort zone!', he'd quickly added) in order to give you a full massage. He also said the oils he used had a tendency of staining and leaving their strong fragrance on most fabrics. It was usually spa policy to provide customers with robes and such for their sessions, but being located in his home at the moment, he'd asked you to just bring your bikini directly.
You didn't feel any type of way about this, surprisingly. Having known Seungcheol for years, he'd seen you in a bikini as many times as you'd seen him shirtless and in very tiny swim trunks. The one thing, however, was the thought of him touching your bare skin, but it was too late to back out - not that you wanted to anyways.
"Y-yeah, it's in my bag. Did you wanna start right away or ..?"
"Yeah! Go get ready and I'll start preparing the oils for you. I'll also light some incense for ambience," and with that, he left you alone in the living room so that you could change without interruption. He went into his room to prepare things, closing the door to allow you some privacy.
You had chosen your skimpiest bikini. Not for any inferior motives! But because you knew Cheol needed access to your bare skin as much as possible. Your lower lower back had been killing you lately. Even more so than your shoulders, due to sitting all day every day. So you wanted to give him room to take care of that without any clothing getting in the way. You hastily got changed, deciding that you'd already waited long enough and that it was time to get this over with.
'Are you ready?", you heard Cheol ask from his room a few minutes later.
Ok, it was time. Anyone else would've been ecstatic at the thought of their crush rubbing all over their body, or at the idea of a free full-body massage. But you were too high-strung for your own good, which only increased your anxiety over the whole thing. However, you were now here, almost in the nude, only one door away from the man who would rid you of your pain and replace it with pleasure.
You stepped into the room without verbalizing a response, immediately meeting eyes with an expectant Cheol, who was organizing his oils as he awaited your arrival. He'd outdone himself, really. He had lowered the lighting in the room, lighting a few candles and some incense in order to turn up the spa ambience. The place smelled divine, and even the temperature was perfect. You could already feel yourself getting relaxed.
"Cheol, holy shit. This is too much. You didn't have to go so out of your way. This looks like an actual spa!"
"Only the best for my best friend," he gave his gummy smile in return, eyeing you as he directed you towards the massage table that was standing in the middle of the room. "You ready?"
"Yeah," you breathed out, accepting his stretched hand as he helped position you on the table.
He laid you face down on the table, but with your head turned to the side, as to not squish your features against the flat surface, "Try not to think too much, yeah? It'll feel so good, I promise. I'm gonna get rid of all tension in your body," the way he'd said it sounded promising, almost hinting at something more.
Without much warning, he began to softly run his hands up and down your body, going from your shoulders all the way down to your calves, almost as if sizing you up in order to come up with a game plan for your massage. Even that feather-like touch had you flinching a little. You'd never been caressed like this before.
"Shit, you're very high-strung. Even more than I thought," he chuckled in response to your body's reaction to such light touch.
"Cheol ..." you whined.
"Sorry. I'll start now, okay? You're gonna feel a little warm in a second. I'm gonna oil you up so it's easier for me to massage you, yeah? I picked my favorite scented oils for you."
You were thankful for the warning, because the warmth you felt immediately after made you swoon internally. You almost moaned out loud at the feeling of his hands lightly rubbing the oil all over your body. You were already affected and he hadn't even begun. It didn't take him long to actually start, however. He began with your neck, almost wrapping his hands all around it, but not closing them in on it. His thumbs were focusing on the lower part of the back of your neck, rubbing at spots you hadn't even realized were that sore.
"You're so tense, Jesus Christ," he was right. You could feel instant relief at his touch, pressing your body further into the soft material of the cushion of the table in pure relaxation.
He rubbed that area for a while, seemingly trying to target the knots located there. He then moved onto your shoulders, beginning to rub a little harder. He began to dig his thumbs into the problem areas, going extra hard at any points of tension. With this extra strength, also came his vocalization of his efforts. His groans of exertion began to fill the room, making you feel even more lightheaded than the massage itself.
"Shit, Baby. You're so fucking tight here."
The wording itself was killing you, but the way he touched you while doing it made you melt into the table, afraid you'd begin to vocalize your pleasure through the form of moans or whines. So far you'd been able to get away with soft breaths and maybe a gasp or two. But you knew that the moment you let go, you wouldn't be able to control the way your body would react to his touch. You were slightly terrified of what would come the lower he went down your body.
Then he threw you yet another curveball.
He leaned down, halting his movements for a moment, and put his mouth a few inches from your ear, "I can feel you tensing up. It's okay, I'll take care of you. You can relax for me."
You saw that as a green light to let go, whining a tiny 'uh huh' in response as he continued his movements.
He went lower and lower, now rubbing your lower back; the area right before the slope of your ass began, but he was quickly approaching it. Every area he had touched so far, he had undone. You felt like your back had been liberated of the huge weight it had been carrying for years. You were whining and moaning at the pleasure he was giving you, and also at the feel of his hands on your body. You felt yourself get wetter by the minute, having started to feel moisture down there from the moment he began massaging you. You were ashamed, but his touch so close to your biggest point of tension was driving you insane. You wanted him to forget about the massage and just flip you over.
"Okay, baby. Now I'm gonna do your ass, okay? Trust me, I know it sounds dumb, but a lot of people carry a lot of tension here"
He was right once again. As he massaged the muscle, you felt tension you didn't even know you had finally unwind. He repositioned you a bit, asking you to lift one of your legs to the side and let it hang a bit off of the side of the table. This angle lifted up your ass a bit, and disconnected your crotch from the table. You were slightly embarrassed, knowing that if he looked through a certain angle he'd be able to see you glisten with desire for him, but you chose to ignore it and hope for the best. Cheol was already helping you so much.
He continued for a few moments, occasionally going down and rubbing lightly at the back of your thighs and calves before coming back up to your lower back and butt. But he suddenly stopped at some point. You could've sworn you heard an intake of breath.
"Hey .. I'm gonna try a special technique. Is that okay?"
You were almost completely gone in pleasure by then, eyes becoming heavier by the minute. You didn't even have to think before saying yes.
You felt him lean his body more over the table, and also a bit over the lower half of your body. He was still just massaging your lower back with one hand, while making you bend your leg a little higher than before. You weren't sure what he meant by special technique, but you were down for anything had in mind. Except you hadn't expected what he would do next.
Having bent your leg forward, he had given himself the perfect angle of your pussy from behind, deciding to let his hand slip between your legs and run his fingers lightly over your folds. You gasped at this, repositioning yourself a bit to give him even more access. He took this as a welcoming sign, starting to run his hands up and down your pussy, stopping once in a while to rub at your swollen clit.
"Baby .. You're so tense here .. Let me help you? Yeah?" He said this as he continued to increase the intensity of his movements, rubbing more and more at your clit.
"Y-yes. Fuck. Please, Cheol ..." you whined, giving him permission to do whatever he wanted to you.
You yelped at his next movements. He had shoved his fingers inside with no warning, leaning down to kiss softly at your ass while he fingered you. The speed of his fingers wasn't too fast, but it was deep and calculated, dragging across all the places you needed him most. He was right, you did feel tense there, but his movements were relaxing you like nothing else could.
"Is it working, baby? Am I making you feel good?"
You'd buried your face into one of your arms, but still managed to squeak out a "yes!" in affirmation.
"Just 'yes', baby? We can do better than that, don't you think? I think I have something to rid you of all your tension ..." you could hear the smirk in his voice as he said this, feeling him finally remove the tiny piece of fabric between your legs.
He positioned his body a little further over the lower half of the table, lowering his face to the space between your cheeks in order to get his tongue on your pussy. He began to lick and suck softly, keeping a pace similar to that of his fingers just a few seconds ago. The pleasure was blinding you, causing you to lightly grind against his face, wanting as much pleasure as you could milk out of him. He seemed to like this, as he lifted his hands and placed them on your hips, guiding your grinding against him and taking on an even better angle.
All that could be heard were the moist sounds of his tongue on your heat and your cries of pleasure. The massage had been fully forgotten. All you could think about was your best friend's tongue and the way his groans against your pussy were making you lose your mind. It seemed like this was bringing him as much satisfaction as it did you.
"Ch-Cheollie! Right there! Fuck!", he'd begun to suckle at your clit, wanting you to finally reach your high and bring you as much pleasure as imaginable.
"Cum all ove' my face baby! wann' taste that pretty pussy," his words were muffled. He seemed physically incapable of separating himself from you.
You came almost immediately, loving the vibrations of his groans against you. You fell completely limp, being rendered a shell of yourself. The whole thing had felt like an out of body experience. From the massage to the life-changing orgasm. You were convinced there was no greater pleasure than what you'd felt in the past half hour. But Seungcheol seemed to disagree, instantly pulling you towards him and sitting you on the table, your body now facing his.
He had untied your bikini top earlier into the massage, which you hadn't minded since you were facing down and away from his view anyways, but now you were grateful he had. He was making direct eye contact with your tits, almost as if pondering as to what to do with them. He seemed to reach a decision, however, and attacked them with his lips with intense fervor, licking and biting at your swollen buds. He had you moaning out in pleasure again. It was as if he'd studied your body without you knowing, being an expert in all your weak spots.
He made out with your tits for a while, making your eyes roll back at the feeling of his tongue against your sensitive nipples. When he pulled away, he instantly began undressing himself at record speed. He had just been wearing shorts and a loose top, which made the process pretty quick. Immediately after getting himself nude, he positioned you so that you could wrap your legs around his waist from your position sitting on the table. He dragged you as close to him as possible by your legs, pressing your chests together.
He looked down at you while running his hands up and down your back, which was still slightly sticky with oil. He seemed to be in a trance, just looking at you with an endeared expression in his eyes, "You're so beautiful. Your body's so ... fuck. Can't believe you've been in pain for so long, baby. When I could've been taking care of you all this time," he had began to kiss along your neck and clavicles as he said this.
"Cheollie .." you breathed out, tilting your neck to the side to allow him extra space to kiss.
"Can I take care of you, baby? Let me get rid of all your tension?", he'd started grinding his bare hips against yours, having pushed open your legs in order to allow himself to drag his dick against your cunt.
Even just the weight of his cock against you had you whining, burying your face in his neck, not knowing how to react at the stimulation. You'd already felt the most pleasure when Cheol buried his tongue in your cunt, or so you'd thought. But that did not hold a candle to the feeling of his fat head as it nudged against your folds. You began to whine and writhe against him, hands digging into his arms as he ground against you. Until he nudged your head away from his neck, wanting to face you. He halted his movements altogether and looked into your eyes for a few moments, a small smile gracing his lips. His eyes began to lower, now staring directly at your lips. Your eyes mirrored his. It was a tender moment in the midst of what had just now been a mess of grinding bodies and oil. When he finally kissed you was when you truly felt relief. No massage could have compared to the bliss you felt with your best friend's lips against your own. The softness of the kiss didn't last much, however, as the movements of his hips picked back up and the kiss began to become more moist by the second.
Cheol took advantage of your soft gasps at the feeling of his cock against your cunt to slip his tongue in your mouth, expertly massaging yours with his. This went on for a bit, allowing for Cheol to stimulate you with some kissing and dry humping, further preparing you to take him free of pain. He was a little larger in size than average, and with the very limited experience he had asserted you to have, he wanted to prevent you from feeling any pain. He had wanted tonight to be nothing but pleasure for you, knowing how badly you've been needing some relaxation, and maybe with the slight ulterior motive of finally getting with his pretty bestie.
He unglued himself from your lips, chuckling at the way you whined as your lips followed his, "Baby, I'm gonna fuck you now, yeah? Wanna see you fully relaxed. That okay?"
"Mhm. Yes, Cheollie. Do anything you want. Trust you," you mumbled in response, head filled with air as you barely caught your breath from the overload of pleasure you'd felt tonight.
With that, he began to enter you, bulbous head showing a bit of a fight in entering your tight walls. You both let out a moan of relief when he finally bottomed out, almost as if you'd both been craving this for a while. He fucked you with a passion only someone who wanted you the way you wanted him would. You'd thought you'd reached the utmost pleasure when Cheol had you cumming against his tongue, but nothing could ever compare to being full of him as he praised you through every thrust, calling you every possible adjective to describe your beauty.
"B-baby! So fucking good. So pretty for me .. Gonna fuck you all night. Gonna fuck you to sleep. All mine now," he began canting in and out of you with even more intensity now, making sure to hit that spot with every thrust.
"Cheollie!"
"I know, baby. Gonna cum for me? Gonna let me fill that pussy up, aren't you, pretty?"
It didn't take long for you to cum, already feeling an overwhelming amount of emotions at every type of pleasure Seungcheol had delivered to you tonight. He followed soon after you, yelling out your name at the tightening of your walls around him. He breathed heavily as he leaned against you for a minute or two, only then moving away from you in order to get a towel and begin to clean you up.
"Sorry .. was that too much?", he smiled sheepishly as you seemed to wince when he attempted to clean you up between your thighs.
"No! It was perfect, just ... not really used to it, that's all."
"Okay, baby. If you say so. Now let me take you to bed!", with no warning, he picked you up and brought you over to his bed, completely ignoring the mess he'd caused on his massage table after having fucked you on it. He laid you down, cocooning you into his blankets before rushing to the other side of the bed and holding you in his arms.
He turned to look at you as he cradled your body against his, "Do you feel better now? Still sore?", the question seemed genuine.
"No, Cheollie. I feel amazing. I've never felt this good before, actually."
"That good, huh? I told you I was the best! But don't worry, baby. Gonna keep your appointment every week like I promised. Gonna keep you in my bed every time you're feeling sore, yeah, baby? Don't even have to ask, I'll be waiting for you," he chuckled at himself as he said this, but being completely serious.
"Will you give me your special treatment again?," you giggled against his lips.
"That's for you and you only, baby," he replied as he closed the gap between you once more.
a/n: ok i mightve made reader a lil extra overdramatic this time but u guys have to understand. my back hurts like hell. so pls sympathize w reader bc shes lowkey my soul sister in that area 😭
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gamergirl-niffler · 11 months
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Being Married to Haganezuka - headcanons
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Relationship between swordsmith and demon slayer was actually unheard of, but you didn't complain at all.
It was really comfortable, you lived with your husband and were close enough to be ready when needed.
Your husband was a difficult person: hot-blooded, extremely dedicated to his craft, and socially inept.
Many were sure he would never find a wife. That was until you came into the village, after all Hotaru was just a man and despite all of his heavy flaws managed to win your heart.
People hated him, and you knew that, but thankfully your presence brightened his image. Just a tiny bit. But still.
--------------
‌He doesn't just talk about work. He rants. 
A lot, actually. 
Thanks to it, you know all about his clients, even if he has very little of those.
"I need to make new swords! And guess for who! For a kid that barely made it through Finale Selection!" Hotaru complains as you hum in acknowledgement while braiding the long black locks of your husband. "I am sure he will be like the others! Not respecting my work whatsoever!"
It's a simple routine before bed. He rants, letting out some of the frustration while your attention calms him down. It's always enough to actually allow him to properly rest during the night. 
‌Sleeping with him is yet another completely different thing.
Once the two of you get into bed, there is no running away. When his arms wrap around you, it's over, you are stuck like this until the sun rises again. He is simply not letting you go. 
Hotaru will never admit it out loud, but that's exactly what he is afraid of, you were the only woman that ever wanted him, so what would he do without you around.
You are his biggest treasure, he is not letting you go. Ever.
‌ Mornings with Haganezuka are much nicer. 
He is calm and rested as you're helping him to get ready for work right after breakfast.
"I hate that mask," You say with a grimace, while looking at the ugly mask in your hand. 
Of course, you understand the whole idea of masks but it didn't change the fact you didn't like them, you preferred to see your husband without it.
He snatches the item from your hand and hands you a shawl. "You better help me with my hair," Hotaru mutters, sitting in front of you to make it easier. "You also should get ready."
With an eye roll, you started to wrap his hair, making sure they won't bother him during the work. "I am just as ready as you are," you sum up, tying the shawl as tightly as possible. 
Once you were done he got up, put on the mask and turned to you. "I love you," he admits, while his hands move to your collar to properly button it.
Looking up at him, "I... I love you too...," you say with a soft grimace, making him frown under the mask. "What's your problem now?”
"Sorry. It's hard to say with that thing on your face," you admit slowly.
"You're annoying," He scoffs and turns to leave.
After grabbing your sword, you could follow him, walking by his side and holding his hand until you reach your post. Only then the two of you finally part ways for the day.
‌Hotaru is the one taking care of your sword. 
How could he not!
Not only he's a swordsmith, but he is also your husband, so his duty to you is doubled or even tripled! Not to mention, the sword is his own creation.
"Did you clean it? Are you sure it's clean? Maybe you chipped it? Let me see!"
You need to keep him away, using your own hands to make sure he won't get to your sword. "Hotaru, love. I am sure of all of it," You sigh, but before you know it he already has his hands on it. 
How did he even do that?! 
With careful eyes, he checks the blade and handle to be fully sure you're telling the truth. 
He couldn't allow his beloved wife to walk around with a sword that isn't properly taken care of. Hotaru wanted to be sure you are safe. "It's getting blunt. I will sharpen it for you. You can take the other one."
And just like that, your husband is off to do his things. There is no stopping him nor making him postpone the work.
Speaking about work!
Hotaru is hard working and stubborn.
Once he gets to work... He. Is. Gone. 
The mix of passion and dedication in his case are actually a "deadly" combination. There is no way of pulling him away. Sadly, even as his own wife, you don't have this privilege.
Once, when you attempted to take the sword away to stop him, Hotaru snapped at you, his voice filled with frustration. "Don't you see I'm busy? This must be done, and I won't deliver a poorly made sword!"
After that, you never tried that again.
He can be gone for the whole day and night while forging a new blade. It's annoying when you cannot spend the evening snuggling with your husband. 
‌BUT you are actually useful when he loses his temper! 
"Y/N-sama!"  One of the young apprentices yells, getting your attention immediately. Kids here love you since you are much nicer than Hotaru, but one of them approaching you while on duty isn't something usual.
"What is it? Did something happen?" You ask, giving the boy a soft smile.
Boy nodded quickly. "It's Haganezuka! He lost it again."
Letting out an annoyed sigh, you nod and quickly follow the boy just to find your husband held by three swordsmiths, while he's thrashing around to get free while another swordsmith stood nearby.
"What happened here?!" You ask with a frown. 
Hotaru growls. "He interrupted my work! I was almost done with the sword! Now I will have to start all over again! I'll kill you!"
You blink and rub your face, no matter how many times it happened, you still couldn't get used to it. "Hotaru. That's enough, let's go home. I will make you mitarashi dangos."
He immediately stops his thrashing around and looks at you. Other swordsmiths look at each other confused and slowly let him go.
Instead of attacking the man that took the sword, he walks to you and hugs you tightly. "Let's go. I want mitarashi dangos."
Of course, it's not the only situation like this. Things like this often happen because of his temper. Sometimes you need to resort to tickling his sides, but this ends in you dragging him back home and him later scolding you for even doing this.
‌ Since he works hard. He gets hurt.
Hotaru hates this, but at the same time he loves it. No one likes to get hurt, and he as a swordsmith sometimes gets his hands a little damaged in his work fever.
It's annoying. Wounds even if shallow still hurt and disturb the work.
Thankfully, he has you and he can always count on your help. He will not admit it, but he loves the way your palms feel against his own when you wrap his injuries.
You are a slayer, yet your hands are small and soft compared to his. Not to mention, you are always so gentle and careful while taking care of you. No one else can take care of his injuries just like you do.
"There you go," you say sweetly, tying a knot on a fresh bandage on his hand. Before he can thank you, you press a soft kiss to the injury. "I told you to be careful and to work less, but you never listen. Is it really that hard to listen just a little bit? For once?”
No matter how many times he returned home with cuts or/and abrasions, you always helped him and then scolded him. Normally he would get angry at someone for talking to him like this, but when it comes to you; Hotaru can't be mad, he actually feels oddly happy you do this. 
--------------
In summary.
Hotaru is a good man. 
Others may hate him for his slightly angry nature, but that's because no one knows him like you do, not even a village chief.
He loves you in his own way and is forever grateful for you and the fact you love him back just as much.
Some people think you may regret marrying such a man, but you truly don't. He is the best thing that ever happened to you, and you wouldn't change him for anyone else.
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cecilysobsessions · 1 year
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PURPLE HYACINTH (m.) | zuko
↬ word count: 12k
↬ fem!reader, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, “where is my wife?” line, zuko falls first and falls harder, reader & zuko are adults, some parts are from zuko’s pov
↬ summary: being the daughter of a powerful governor in the fire nation, you are married off to the new fire lord zuko. to the public, the two of you are madly in love. behind closed doors, you and zuko can’t stand each other. but you can fuck each other
↬ genre: fluff / smut smut smutty smut smut
↬ warnings: reader & zuko hate each other in the beginning, reader gets poisoned, assassination attempt, zuko likes being choked, oral sex (m.receiving & f.receiving), zuko is a slut in the bedroom, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, swearing, typos
↬ a/n: waiting on season 3 live action zuko glow up 🤞
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•••
“Tell me again,” Zuko breathes into the kiss.
“What?”
“Tell me you hate me.” he pulls away for a moment and waits for you.
“I hate you.”
“I love you.” he responds breathlessly, smashing his lips against yours. This time he’s impatient, kissing you like he’s running out of time or like you’re going to be taken away and this is his last moment with you.
•••
You take a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself. Was Zuko always this loud of a chewer? Seriously, in this entire large dining room, where he is sitting several feet away from you across the table, you can still hear him chewing on his stupid steak. Zuko was a loud chewer, a lousy cook, and an even lousier husband. 
It has been nearly a year since the two of you wed in an arranged marriage and you’ve hated every second of it since those stupid wedding bells went off. Your father was a governor in the Fire Nation, and often helped out Zuko with his royal duties. Him and Zuko’s uncle Iroh were good friends, and when it came time for Zuko to find a wife, you just so happen to be at the right age of marrying and available. Although you had fought and protested the marriage, once your father made a decision, he would never go back on it. Even if the decision was to marry off his daughter to the new Fire Lord.
You hated everything about being royalty. From the fancy parties and charities to all the socializing you were required to engage in with old conservative firebending weirdos, to the stupid sham wedding and fake kisses with Zuko. Sure, it was nice living in the palace and having people cook for you and dress you up in pretty clothes, but you hated everything else. You hated socializing and partying, you hated being the Fire Lord’s wife, and you hated all the dumb royal duties you were required to do. It would be a lot easier to do all these things if you actually liked Zuko, but everything about him irked you.
He may have found himself during his teenage years, but he was still easily angered and hard headed. Not to mention he was still moping around and crying about his ex, Mai. She had already moved on and found someone new, but you knew Zuko was still upset he had messed up their relationship. Even though every time you confronted him about it he denied it, you were so sure he was still hurting from it and thinking about it. The blank stares and passing looks he gave to her with a softness in his eyes he had never given you made it so obvious he was lying. And even though you didn’t harbor any sort of romantic feelings for him, it still hurt that he was looking at Mai like that and thinking of her.
From the start of his reign, Zuko wanted Mai to be his wife, and not you, for very obvious reasons. It helped that he liked her and had already had history with her, so when you showed up and people were telling him that he was marrying you and not Mai, he had blamed it on you. He knew it would be better for his duty to put his feelings aside and marry you out of convenience, but he hated the idea of marrying someone he didn’t love. Being with someone he didn’t love.
“Zuko,” you started, trying hard to keep yourself from slamming your silverware on the dining table. “Will you please stop chewing so loudly?” you ask politely.
“I’m not chewing loudly.”
“Yes, you are.”
“You can’t even hear me! You’re sitting so far away from me!” his voice echoed through the large room.
“Exactly. I’m sitting so far away from you, but I can still fucking hear you.” you emphasized, rolling your eyes.
“Well, if it bothers you that much, feel free to eat somewhere else.”
You could practically feel your blood pressure rising. “Oh please, you think I haven’t tried doing that before? Your stupid advisors won’t let me eat anywhere else because we’re married, so we should be eating together.”
“Then stop complaining.”
“Maybe stop chewing so damn loudly and I won't complain.” you sigh, angrily blowing a stray strand of hair out of your face. You were beginning to feel heated and upset. All you wanted to do was eat your dinner in peace and go back to your bedroom, but his stupid loud chewing and stupid stubbornness just had to get in the way.
A familiar silence entered the room and you took in another breath, deciding to try and quickly finish your food so that you could just leave. There was no point in trying to fight with Zuko; you wouldn’t get what you want anyway.
“Do you ever stop sighing?” Zuko asked, and you felt something snap inside of you. You stood up abruptly, the steak knife you were using to cut your food flying towards his face. You had thrown the knife at him in anger, and hoped that it would hit him. Unfortunately, his fast reaction helped him and he moved to the side, swiftly avoiding your fast knife.
“What a shame,” you pushed out your chair and it squeaked against the polished floors. “I could’ve given you another scar on your stupid face.” you began making your way towards the door.
“Maybe if you had better aim you could’ve,” he replied, calmly going back to munching on his food as your eye twitched in annoyance.
•••
You couldn’t sleep. You had spent the last half hour tossing and turning and you still couldn’t fall asleep. Irritated, you decided that you were going to take a walk around the palace gardens to help calm you. In the time you’ve spent at the palace gardens so far, you began to make an effort to learn more about the plants and flowers and their meanings. You began to find it interesting the many messages you could send to someone through flowers, and hoped that someday you’d get a meaningful message through flowers from someone. 
You had thrown a robe over your light and sheer nightgown, and headed to the gardens. Since coming to the place, the gardens have been the only place of peace for you. This was the only space that didn’t have guards wandering around its perimeter 24/7 so that you could have a little privacy. You breathed in the crisp midnight air as you opened the gate at the entrance. You had been walking around and smelling the flowers when you heard a faint voice. 
Zuko. 
“Please,” you heard him plead to someone, and you hid behind a small bush nearby in hopes to hear more of the conversation. If there was one thing you were going to do, it was snoop. The palace had so much drama going on between the staff and royal members of the family, it was impossible to keep your nose out of it.
“Don’t leave,” he continued and you knew exactly who he was talking to. Mai.
You had never heard Zuko speak so softly and gently to someone it was almost as if it was out of character for him. Or maybe he just always spoke to you with such hatred and annoyance.
“No,” you heard her reply. “Is this seriously what you called me out here for? Get a life, Zuko. I’m leaving.”
Wait, that was it? That was everything she was going to say to him? You quietly chuckled to yourself; Mai sounded so over it and annoyed you were almost embarrassed for Zuko. When you saw her leave the gardens, you noticed Zuko sit on a nearby bench. Smiling to yourself, you took the opportunity to poke fun at him and make him feel bad. Who cares if it’s mean? It made you happy, and that’s all that matters really.
“What a pathetic loser,” you stepped out from your hiding bush and he turned to face you, his face furrowed in anger and annoyance. 
“What are you doing here?! Did you overhear all that?!” his voice was back to his normal angry tone.
“Not all of it, just the end.” you sat down next to him. “What, were you begging for her to come back to you? Begging for her to love you again? Oh you poor thing, maybe if you weren’t such a horrible boyfriend, she wouldn’t have left you.” you teased arrogantly, looking up to watch the moon.
“You don’t know anything about love.” he grumbled. “You threw a knife at me during dinner. And that’s not what I was doing. I wasn’t asking her to come back to me.”
“Uh huh. I wouldn’t have thrown a knife at you if I loved you. I did it because you deserve it. And anyway, what would people think if they saw you and her together?”
“Nobody saw.”
“Oh, but I did.”
“You’re a nobody.”
“I’m a nobody?” you laughed sarcastically. “As far as everyone knows, I’m the Fire Lord’s wife. What would people think of you if word got out that you were meeting your ex-lover in the middle of the night even though your first year marriage anniversary is coming up? Imagine what people would think and say about you…” you trailed off, you were sure he got the message. 
You weren’t warning him of his careless actions because you cared about him, but because you cared about yourself and yourself only. If this did come out and people would start gossiping, the people would start pitying you and feeling bad. You already didn’t like that you were only known as the Fire Lord’s wife, so you’d feel even more annoyed if you were known as the Fire Lord’s poor wife who got cheated on.
He was quiet, which meant he knew you were right. Although you and Zuko never got along, he knew when to admit defeat. And he did so with silence. After taking a moment to think to himself, he finally broke the silence.
“Why are you even here anyways? Stalker much?” he eyed your pajamas. “And you’re out here in your nightgown? Go back inside!”
“What? I’m wearing a robe, you can’t even see anything!”
“You idiot, if someone sees us, they might think we’re fucking in the gardens.”
“HA! Please, I’d rather jump off a cliff than fuck you. And if you’re so aware that anybody can see us, you should’ve taken that into consideration before you brought your ex here. Dumbass.” you stood up, quickly turning away from him and walking away before he could say anything.
Zuko’s eyes followed you as he watched you step away, his eyes dropping down to the slight sway of your hips as you walked. “Pfft,” he said to himself as he rolled his eyes. “She walks so arrogantly.” he whispered before forcing his eyes to look somewhere else.
•••
It was that time of the year again. A stupid Fire Nation festival called Sparring Day, or whatever. Essentially, it was just a festival where the best firebenders of the nation put on a show and play with fire and pretend to fight each other for charity. The proceeds for the tickets went to charity and although that was the only part you liked about it, you dreaded going. Sure, this was the first time you were attending as a member of the royal family, but you still hated when your parents dragged you to the festival every previous year. Aside from the charity part (the only good part), it was mostly just a bunch of old lame shirtless dudes throwing fire at each other.
This year though, was different. It was Zuko’s first year where he participated in the festival himself. You thought the festival was supposed to be for the best of the best, so why the hell was Zuko going to be in it? Sure, the original benders of Fire, the dragons, passed down the way of firebending to him and Aang, but that didn’t mean he was good, or whatever. He still sucked ass, in your opinion. Maybe you’re not one to be saying this since you’re not a bender, but you were Zuko’s number one hater.
You were sitting on the stands in the audience with the Avatar and his friends, frantically fanning yourself. The sun was practically cooking everyone alive, but they still went on with the stupid festival.
“LOOK!” Sokka exclaimed excitedly, frantically pointing at the stage below. “They’re setting up dummies for Zuko to burn!”
“I hope he misses.” you roll your eyes, fanning yourself as you wipe the sweat from your forehead. 
“Aww, don’t say that! That would hurt his honor.” Toph jokes, earning a laugh from everybody. You quietly smirk to yourself in response; people’s eyes were on you, so you had to act elegant and proper, like the palace ladies always tell you to do.
The blow of a horn signifies that the show is starting, and you see a lineup of several fire benders enter the stage.
Shirtless.
Including Zuko.
Your seat is high up above the stage, so you can’t see many details, but your eyes unconsciously check his body out. You knew Zuko was fit and lean, but you had never seen him shirtless. Aside from dinner or public events, you and Zuko almost were never in each other’s presence. You don’t even sleep in the same room, so you had never seen him shirtless.
You force yourself to look away from him; he wasn’t the only shirtless fire bender on stage after all. As the event begins, you watch the men perform a form of fire bending—what you assume to be the Dancing Dragon, and people begin to holler and cheer. You look away and doze off; you’ve seen this a million times in previous years. When they finish, an announcer starts speaking, and almost immediately brings everyone’s attention to you up in the stands.
“Where is she?! There she is!” he points upwards at you, and your heart stops for a second. 
“Doesn’t everyone want to see Fire Lord Zuko perform up close and personal for his beautiful wife?!” he asks the crowd, and everyone cheers. 
“HELL YEAHHHH!!!” Sokka screams, and you smack his arm. 
“OW! Come on, don’t you want to see him up close in all his fire glory?!” he asks you, his eyes lit up with excitement. 
“Not really.”
“BRING HER DOWN!” Sokka yells back at the announcer and the crowd hollers again in amusement. 
You purse your lips together in irritation. You know Sokka wants to see you in misery, so you make sure to step on his foot on your way down from the stands, smiling to yourself as he yells in pain.
It’s a lot hotter once you get down to the stage. There’s no cool shade you can sit under and the flames from the torches and other benders make it even hotter. The announcer drags a chair for you to sit on center stage, and Zuko comes up to stand beside you. 
You try not to look too much or make it obvious, but out of the corner of your eye you watch him struggle to catch his breath as he stands there—shirtless and sweaty. His abs are so beautifully defined and it’s obvious the work he’s put in to achieve that. His pecs are glistening in sweat and the sun rays are shining so brightly on him like he’s some God. He runs his hands through his long locks of hair, messing it up so easily but he still looks so effortlessly handsome. 
You’re staring—stop staring. Zuko is going to notice. The announcer is going to notice when he stops talking about whatever it is he’s talking about. Look away. You can’t look away. If you stare more, Zuko will notice and it will be weird. 
Stop staring.
It’s too late; he's taken notice of your gaze. He looks down, his sharp eyes bore into yours as he stares back down at you. You don’t know what he is thinking, or maybe you just don’t see it because the sun is in your eye. But he’s looking back at you almost seductively, but maybe you’re just imagining that and it’s probably just the sun. But he’s never looked at you before like this; usually he can’t hide his feelings of hatred and dislike in his eyes, but this time none of that is there. Your best guess is because the two of you are in public and he’s actively trying not to look at you that way.
“—will perform a fire bending performance he prepared in advance for his beautiful wife!” you snap back to reality, breaking eye contact with Zuko and looking back at the announcer.
A performance he prepared in advance for you? Please, what a load of bullshit that was. You knew that was just something the palace told him to say to continue to sell your cheap fake love story with Zuko.
The performance begins, and other fire benders join the stage again to show off their moves with fire alongside Zuko. Fire is dancing in the air and all around you and it feels a million times hotter and a million times more miserable because of the stupid heat. You’re not enjoying it at all, but you keep a smile on your face to fool the people. Your eyes found a way to follow Zuko’s movements: he is smooth, athletic and agile, and elegant. You had to admit he looked good fire bending, but you’d never say that. It had to be because he’s probably been practicing. It feels like a million more years until the stupid dance finally ends and Zuko holds his hand out to you to escort you back to the stands, but not before the announcer disrupts you two.
“Woah woah woah, where are you going so early?!” he stops the two of you from stepping off the stage. 
“Tell me dear,” he looks at you then gestures to the audience. “What did you think of Fire Lord Zuko and his amazing performance?”
You barely paid any attention to it. “It was amazing! I always love watching him firebend.” your response is automatic, and so is the exciting smile you put up for everyone to holler and cheer at. 
“She loved it, folks! Zuko, how are you feeling right now?”
“I’m happy she liked it, I worked hard to impress her.” His response and smile is just as automatic and fake as yours was.
“Wonderful, wonderful! Well, folks, what’re we thinking! A little kiss of appreciation between our lovely couple?”
Your heart practically drops to your stomach, and you feel Zuko’s hand tighten around yours. It’s not like you’ve never kissed him in public before, you have multiple times. But all those times were calculated and carefully planned out. This is a spontaneous kiss in front of thousands of people. Your hand feels a little sweaty, so you let go, but you quickly turn to Zuko and face him. You react quicker than him, standing on your tippy toes and tilting your chin up to give him easier access.
“Well?” you feel like throwing up. “Aren’t you going to kiss me, Zuko?” you feel yourself cringe. 
The crowd is loud, but Zuko quickly adjusts. “So eager to kiss me now, are we?” he automatically leans down and presses his lips against yours. 
Soft. Supple. Zuko didn’t think he would really feel the kiss out, and usually he didn’t, but this was the first time he noticed how good it felt to kiss you. Or maybe it was the rush of adrenaline he got from moving around. Yeah, probably that.
It’s almost as if his lips have a mind of his own and refuse to listen to him, because he’s tilting his head to kiss you more deeply and one of his hands are entangling themselves in your hair and the other is moving down to the small of your back as he holds you closer to himself. He can feel the erratic thumping of his heartbeat, fast and panicked. 
People in the crowd are yelling louder now, hyping up the two of you as you kiss and you pull away. You look at him, cheeks colored with pink and droopy eyes. He’s never had any sort of reaction to kissing you before, so why now? You figured he was blushing because of the heat; after all it was really hot.
•••
“You looked like you hated the performance,” Zuko observes out loud as he leads you back to the stands. The two of you mutually decided to go back to the stands through the palace halls instead of outside to get some cool air as a break.
“What do you think? You were front and center of the whole thing, of course I hated it.” you reply.
“Why were ogling at me then?” he looks down at you and smirks. 
Did he notice you staring at him earlier? Jesus, of course he did, you were so obvious! You do a mental facepalm, embarrassed he noticed.
“I wasn’t ogling; you just smelled gross, you were all sweaty. That’s all.”
“That’s not what I saw.”
“You saw wrong. Humble yourself for once.”
It’s quiet for a beat, then you decide to poke fun at his reaction to kissing you.
“You liked the kiss that much, huh?”
He stops in his tracks. “What? That was just for show.”
“Really? Then why were you all blushy and red?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he sounds serious. “It’s hot as hell outside, so don’t get your hopes up just because I can give the people a good kiss. It was all an act.”
You don’t know why, but you felt a little disappointed at what he said. Sure, it was true, but it still tugged at your heart a bit.
“Really?”
“Really.”
He’s walking again, but you have the absurd idea to test if what he said is true. Grabbing him by his arm, you tug him towards you with force, and when he leans down to you the slightest, you lean up to kiss him.
Zuko freezes in place. He panics, unsure of what to do or how to feel in the moment. It all happened too fast—the grabbing, the kissing, the—why is his heart beating fast? He’s unable to think, mind and heart cloudy with confusion. Why were you kissing him? And why was he kissing you back? He normally doesn’t find himself lost in kissing you, but that’s exactly how he was feeling right now. It’s like his head was empty and the only thing he could focus on was the sweet taste of your lips.
Oh, God.
Oh no. 
No.
No.
No.
Zuko was leaning into you again, but this time with more passion. It felt rushed, like he was in some sort of hurry to get as close to you as he physically could. His hands couldn’t help but hold your face, gently grabbing your chin to tilt your head into the kiss. God, your skin was so soft and felt so nice to rub. He softly moves his lips against yours, his nose brushing against yours as he continues to kiss you. It’s like his body has a mind of its own, acting on its own desires and refusing to listen to his head. He feels your hands grab at his neck, wrapping around his throat as you forcefully push him away from you.
Zuko coughs for a second, stepping back in surprise, his hand coming up to rub his neck. 
“Did you just choke me?” he accuses you.
“You did like the kiss!” you point a finger at him, a victorious smile planted on your lips. You wanted to test out and see if it was because of your kiss that he was all red and blushy, and you were right.
“What?” He feels his cheeks heat up. “No, no I did not. Why did you kiss me? Then choke me?” 
And why did he kind of like it?
“To prove my point.”
“What point?” he was still thinking about your hands on his throat.
“You liked the kiss! That’s why you were all red in the face like you are right now,” you told him arrogantly. “And I didn’t choke you, I just grabbed you by the neck to push you away. Why, you got a thing for being choked?”
“No!” Maybe. “That’s absurd.” I wouldn’t mind trying it out. “Let’s just go.” 
You watch him walk ahead of you, your eyes shifting from his back to the tip of his red ears.
•••
There was going to be a ball. Another stupid ball where you would have to dress up (the only fun part) and socialize with nobles and other random rich people. Sometimes, you’d fake being sick in order to skip out on these balls, but tonight was a celebratory ball for your first year of marriage with Zuko. A miserable first year. You roll your eyes, cringing at the thought that it would be like this for the rest of your life. Although you had accepted it long before the wedding, every time you thought about it, it still managed to upset you.
“Are you comfortable?” one of your maids asked you as she adjusted your dress. 
“Not really,” you had a sudden thought. “Actually, I’m feeling a bit ill…”
“You cannot skip your anniversary ball, your majesty.” she spoke. She knew exactly what kind of excuse you were trying to pull.
You roll your eyes in annoyance. “Fine.”
As your maids finished dressing you up, you were instructed to meet Zuko before the ball so that the two of you could arrive together. Your maids walked you to the entrance before the ball, where you saw Zuko standing there alone waiting for you. 
“Took you long enough,” he complained.
You looked towards the door, the loud music making its way through the closed doors. “Well at least I look good. You, however, look like you just rolled out of bed. As usual.”
He ignored your sarcastic comment. “Look, tonight we need to act in love, so none of that attitude you always give me.” 
“We’ve been doing this for a year now; I think I know how it works. And anyway, it shouldn’t be too hard for you to act in love with me.” you lectured him.
“A part of my soul dies every time I have to kiss you or even look at you lovingly.”
“Please, what soul?”
As Zuko looked down at you to respond, one of his advisors stopped him. The two of you looked behind you to see Jia, a frail elderly woman Zuko often sought out for advice.
“Ahem, um, maybe it would be better to separate the two of you for now. Fire Lord Zuko can enter first,” she then turned to you with a sweet smile. “We’ll just have you enter from the top of the staircase into the ballroom when it begins. Everyone’s eyes will be on your beautiful gown then.”
•••
Zuko was chatting with a couple nobles about the cabbage market, pretending to be engrossed in their conversation to kill time, but he was really just dozing off and staring into space. If there was one thing he had in common with you, it was that the two of you disliked ballroom parties. When a musical horn went off to call the attention of all guests, he looked towards the top of the staircase where he knew you’d be entering.
“Everyone, please welcome Fire Lord Zuko’s wife!” someone chanted, and people began to clap and cheer.
He watched you emerge from a door, only to notice that you had changed your appearance. Your dress was more casual, you were wearing shoes that looked more comfortable, and you had left your hair down. 
Perhaps it was the alcohol he had been sipping on, or the loud music, or everyone cheering and clapping at the same time, but for once since meeting you, he felt his heart skip a beat at the sight of you. Your skin was glowing and your hair was so perfectly bouncy and lucious it was difficult for him to look anywhere else. It was as if there was nothing and no one else to look at but you. He felt the thump in his chest and was unable to focus on anything else until he had been staring for too long and you were already in front of him.
She looks beautiful… for once. That’s new.
He was admiring your beauty again, sharp eyes focused on your face, noticing all the details on your face, details he had never noticed before. He was sure you probably thought he was glaring at you, but really—he was in awe. He had never seen you look so comfortable in something the palace ladies dressed you in. 
His eyes were practically glued to your figure and he was having trouble snapping himself out of the sort of trance you put him under. He was feeling weak in the knees and could feel himself unsteady, you looked beautiful. Too beautiful.
Beautiful wasn’t even a good enough word to describe how stunning you looked. Ethereal, ravishing, alluring, bewitching—none of these words were enough to describe your beauty. None of them did you justice. To him, your beauty was thousands of times more beguiling than the flowers in the palace gardens you spent all your free time looking at. If he were to choose to either look at you or the flowers for an eternity, he would choose you. 
And God, did he hate that. He hated the way he was looking at you right now. He hated the way that he knew he couldn’t even hide how attracted he was to you. He hated the way he couldn’t even find the right words to describe how beautiful you looked, he hated how he couldn’t pull his eyes from you no matter how hard he tried, and he hated the way that you didn’t even know how beautiful you are.
“Zuko,” you bowed politely, and his eyes couldn’t help but follow you as you moved.
He snapped back out of your trance and shook his head. It had to be the alcohol. He probably had too much and that’s why he was feeling shaky and nervous, not because his jaw almost dropped seeing how breathtakingly beautiful you looked. He blamed the alcohol. There was no way he would feel this way if he were sober. He was tipsy. He had to be.
“You look nice,” he began, knowing everyone’s eyes and ears were on the two of you. I can’t take my eyes off of her.
“That’s it?” he watched you fake a chuckle. “I’m not beautiful?” If he didn’t know your real personality, he would’ve believed your fake laugh and fake smile you had plastered on your face right now. 
“You look beautiful as always,” he replied. Has she always been so pretty? Normally he would’ve felt himself cringe and had the urge to vomit calling you attractive, but this time he said it as if he actually meant it. He did mean it. 
Had to be the alcohol.
He felt you grab hold of his arm as he led you to the center of the ballroom and prepared to dance. As the guests formed a circle to watch the two of you dance, suddenly he felt a rise of panic in his chest. Normally he was used to people’s eyes on him and normally he was used to dancing with you and not making a big deal of it, but something about tonight was different.
It was the fact that you looked more like yourself when you had chosen to wear something that you felt more comfortable in and the fact that you wore your hair down which you almost never did in a ball for reasons he didn’t know and the fact that because you were so comfortable, your confidence was through the roof and he found himself drawn to that.
You feel Zuko’s hand snake around your waist as he pulls you in closer to him, your face dangerously close to his as you look into his amber eyes. It was like his eyes were drilling holes into yours: he was looking at you so intensely and with so much conflict swimming in his pupils if confused you. Was he mad at you or something? If he wasn’t, why was he looking at you as if he was and why was he gripping your waist so firmly like you were going to run away or something?
Your hand came up to rest on his shoulders, and on cue, the two of you began a waltz to the instrumental music. The two of you flowed so easily to the music, swaying with passion and chemistry. You lean in closer to him, knowing the guests would think you both are close and in love. You watched everyone’s eyes on you, admiring and watching as you know people thought you and Zuko were head over heels in love with each other.
Unlike how the two of you usually dance, Zuko began to feel stiff and tense, and you wondered why that was. This dance was no different than any other dance, so why was he acting like this?
You tilted your chin upwards to get closer to his ear so that only he would hear what you’re saying. “What’s wrong with you?” you whisper. “Why do you feel so stiff?”
“I’m not stiff,” he muttered passive-aggressively. He shuddered at the feeling of your hoarse whisper against his ear. 
“Relax a little, Zuko, everyone’s watching.” you warned him and assumed he forced himself to relax because he loosened his grip on you and was able to finish the dance with no more issues.
After your dance with him, you speed off to the refreshments in need of a drink and left him in the dust. As you pop some chocolates in your mouth, your eyes watch the crowd. You’re scanning faces when your eyes meet a familiar pair of golden eyes.
Zuko. 
His eyes bore into yours from across the ballroom. Though people walk across your line of vision and break your staring contest with Zuko, his eyes stay on yours, watching you. 
No. Admiring you. Almost longing for you. Zuko’s gaze softens, eyes filled with tender love, and for a mere second you think he might actually be in love with you.
You can’t help but stare back. Why was he looking at you like that? Did he hate dancing with you so much that he had to throw you a death stare? 
Although you question why he’s looking at you with so much passion, your heart can’t help but skip a beat. It feels like it’s about to leap out of your chest. It’s making you nervous. He’s making you nervous.
Zuko is making you nervous.
His eyes are still on you, watching your every move and even though people are trying to talk to him, he’s ignoring them. It was as if you were the only person in the room and he was begging for your attention with his eyes. 
You are the first to break eye contact.
Displeased with the bland tastes of everything, you looked around and noticed a waiter walking around with a tray of drinks. Waving him over, you grabbed a glass from him and downed it. It was sweet and carbonated, something you’ve never tasted before. As you turned to him to grab one more, you noticed the waiter was already gone. Shrugging it off, you turned to the desserts to eat. You were in the middle of tasting a chocolate when Mai came up to you.
“What’s up with Zuko?” she asked, popping a cookie into her mouth and leaning against the table of food.
“Did you see how stiff he was?” you asked her, sneaking a look back at him, but he’s nowhere to be found. You and Mai had become friends sometime after they had broken up and she was one of the few people who gave you comfort after you were put into this arranged marriage with Zuko. It was something small, but something you thought about often and were extremely grateful for.
“Yeah, it was painful to watch. These people are stupid to not realize that.” she watched you, eyes darting around your face to read your expression. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, why?”
Her eyes started to grow in worry as she looked closer at your face. “You look, I don’t know. Hot and red. Not the good hot. The ‘you’re heating up’ hot. Are you sick?” she held the back of her hand to your forehead. “Oh my God, you’re heating up! It feels like you have a fever!”
“What?” you questioned, patting your cheeks and neck. You were burning up. “Oh shit,” as you were heating up, your eyesight began to blur and your head was getting dizzy.
“Hey!” you heard her start to yell, but her voice sounded faint. You struggled to stay on your feet, wobbling as Mai grabbed your shoulders to stabilize you. You looked around the room and Zuko was nowhere to be found. Everyone began to stare at you and ask if you’re okay, but everyone’s voices including Mai’s were becoming more and more faint and harder to hear. You tried to stay on your feet and she tried to keep you upright, but you couldn’t help yourself and it was like your body was beginning to shut down. Your vision was almost completely blurred and so was your hearing, and very soon your body shut down and you felt yourself fainting as you fell to the ground.
•••
Zuko was out of breath as he rushed through the ballroom, grabbing random people’s shoulders and asking where you were. Some people had explained in a panic that you fainted suddenly while he was in the bathroom, and that you were taken by some maids somewhere else. After he had found out you were in the private clinic in the palace, he exited the party in a rush, practically sprinting down the hallways of the palace. He felt himself functioning off his adrenaline as he ran to you in a panicked worry. He was only gone for a couple of minutes, and in those couple of minutes you had fainted? What the hell did you even do to get yourself in a situation like that? Reaching the clinic quickly, he slammed the doors open and saw his friends sitting in the lobby. 
“Where is my wife?!” Zuko asked hurriedly in a state of panic and anger. How could this happen to you? Who could have caused something like this? Were you even okay?
“Zuko, you need to calm down first.” Aang said in an attempt to pacify him. Aang swore he saw fire burning in Zuko’s eyes and steam blowing out of his nose.
“Where is she?” he brushed the Avatar off, pushing him to the side as he opened one of the doors. He burst through and saw Katara healing you as you laid unconscious on the bed. Beside you was Mai, and as soon as he saw her, he couldn’t help but shift the blame to her and glare.
“What did you do?!” he turned his anger on Mai, stepping closer to her in annoyance.
Zuko wasn’t thinking straight (obviously) and was letting his emotions dictate his words and actions. Not knowing who the cause of your condition was pissing him off and hurting him more than he wanted it to.
“What? Are you stupid? I didn’t do anything! You should be thankful! She was poisoned and fainted, and I brought her here for some privacy!”
“Zuko, Mai only helped,” Katara calmly chimed in. “If you would please stop yelling, I could heal her faster.”
“Well, hurry it up!” he snapped as his eyes looked over your unconscious body. On any other normal day, Zuko wouldn’t have cared too much about you being poisoned, but tonight was different and he couldn’t figure out why. 
The fact that someone—another human being—went out of their way to poison you didn’t sit right with him. Why would someone want to poison you and not him? He was unable to come up with a reason as to why someone would want to kill you, so he had to find out. He had to find who wanted you gone and had to figure out why. Because even though you both didn’t get along, it’s not like he wanted you dead. Even if he were the one poisoned and you’d be happy, he would never wish for something like this to happen to you; he was well aware you already hated the royal life.
Zuko felt his jaw clench in anger as he left the room, heading straight to a close advisor of his: Jia. 
•••
“Jia,” he knew she was always in the kitchens around this time at night, drinking tea. Oftentimes his uncle joined her, but not tonight.
“Hm?” she barely looked up from her tea as she stirred it calmly.
He stood there in front of her, hands in fists as he waited for some sort of reaction. You had just been poisoned in front of everyone, and this was how she was reacting? 
“Hello?! My wife’s just been poisoned, and this is how you react?! Jia, my wife—”
“I already sent out a couple soldiers to search for the culprit, and they already have a lead on him. Apparently he was disguised as a waiter when she was poisoned.” she explained, and finally decided to look up at the distressed Fire Lord. 
“I got on it as soon as it happened. Don’t worry, at this rate, we’ll have him in cuffs by the morning.” Jia’s quick action calmed Zuko’s nerves a bit, and he found himself wanting to sit with her to get himself together. 
“She changed her clothes for the ball tonight,” he told Jia after pouring himself a cup of tea. “She looked different.”
“How so? All she did was ask to change her dress and leave her hair down.”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Just less annoying, I guess.”
The elderly woman chuckled, warming her hands with her tea.
“She threw a knife at me the other night,” Zuko said to fill the silence when Jia didn’t reply. “A steak knife.”
“You two are a match made in heaven.”
He nearly choked on his tea and almost spat it out. As he coughed into his elbow, he could barely get a response out. “Match made in heaven? Jia, are you blind or something? I just said she threw a knife at me the other night! Were you not listening?!”
“You should go see her.” she spoke, ignoring his complaints.
“I already did.”
“Really?” she raised an eyebrow in response, surprised he even went to visit you in the first place. “I didn’t think you would.”
“I’m not heartless.”
“I never said you were.”
“She doesn’t want to see me.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do. I know for a fact she will not want my presence there when she wakes up.”
“Well, maybe she doesn’t want you there physically. But, you could send a message to her another way.”
•••
Your massive headache was the only thing you could focus on as your eyes struggled to open. The pounding had you feeling cranky and groggy. You just wanted to go back to bed, but Katara insisted you sit up in bed and drink some water. Your lips feel dry and you feel shaky and weak as you force yourself to drink something.
“How long was I out?” you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.
“Couple days. Mai brought you here. And she brought you flowers.” Katara gestured to the vase of flowers on your bedside table. Purple hyacinths. 
You raised an eyebrow in confusion. Why was Mai apologizing with flowers? She didn’t even like flowers, and even if she did get them for you, her choice of purple hyacinths were bizarre. Purple hyacinths symbolize sadness, and asking for forgiveness.
“That’s nice,” you brushed it off; Mai probably didn’t even know the meaning of purple hyacinths. There was no need to overthink it. “Thanks for taking care of me.” you told Katara, looking up at her and seeing her eye bags. How long has she been there with you?
“No problem, get some rest.”
“You should too. You look like you haven’t been sleeping well. I’ll be fine on my own. If I need anything, I’ll call a nurse.” 
“Are you sure? I don’t mind staying with you.”
“I’ll be fine,” you assured her. 
When she nodded and stood up, she made sure to tell you she’ll visit once a day until you get better. You smiled at her; Katara was such a kind soul and friend.
•••
A couple more days passed and you were no longer bedridden after those days. You could finally muster up enough strength to get out of bed and walk around. In those couple of days, you were informed that the man who poisoned you was the waiter that served you a drink at the ballroom party. Thankfully, he was easily caught by soldiers who were sent out to search for him, and he was sitting in jail now as you recovered. You were told it was some scheme to try and hurt Zuko, but jokes on them because you and Zuko didn’t love each other. He didn’t even bother to come visit you or send someone to check on you. Not that it bothered you… it didn’t. You knew that you and Zuko didn’t get along, but you still felt your heart drop a little when Katara told you that he never stopped by, and that Mai was swinging by your room more to check on you.
You already knew Mai had been stopping by, because every day since you’ve woken up you noticed that there was a new vase of purple hyacinths sitting by you. You never saw Mai drop them off herself, so you assumed she did it in the early morning while you were still sleeping. 
Even your husband’s ex-girlfriend cared more about your well-being than he did. Even though it was an arranged marriage and you and Zuko never wanted to be near each other, you probably still would have gone to see him if he was poisoned, so knowing he wasn’t doing the same for you tugged at your heartstrings a bit, but you didn’t want to admit it.
You shook your head in a physical attempt to shake Zuko from your thoughts. Standing up, you decided that you’d take a walk around the gardens for some fresh air. As you threw on a jacket, you stepped into your shoes and opened the door to leave. Stepping out from your room, you turn and see a disheveled Zuko sitting on a chair against the wall next to your door. When he notices you, he opens his mouth to say something, but he’s quiet. You look down at him, partly shocked but mostly annoyed. His hair looked messy and all over the place, he was dressed down, and he was holding a small blanket in his lap.
“What are you doing here? You look like you haven’t slept.” you tell him.
“Not much,” he weakly said, a clear tiredness laced in his voice. “I’ve been sleeping out here and waiting for you to come out.”
“Don’t you have anything better to do?” you retorted, walking away and not letting him respond. 
Did he really expect you to believe that he had been sleeping out in the hallway these past couple days waiting for you? Did he think you were stupid? Sure, it looked like he was telling the truth, but you doubt he actually did it. Why would he anyway? The two of you didn’t like each other and never wanted to be around each other.
“Wait for me,” he pleaded, and started following your footsteps like a dog. “And no, I don’t have anything better to do.”
“How about running your country? Did you forget you’re the Fire Lord?” you rolled your eyes and made your way to the gardens as he followed after you. 
Why was he still following you? Why was he acting like he actually loved and cared for you? It confused you and made your heart ache and you didn’t want to be around him. It was just too confusing and too much for you right now.
The gardens were empty like usual, so the only noise was your footsteps against the gravel and the chirping of the birds in the early morning. But of course, Zuko’s stupid loud footsteps just have to follow in your direction and ruin the entire mood.
“I couldn’t focus on anything else.”
You didn’t reply, instead choosing to walk faster in an attempt to shake him off. It was so obvious you didn’t want to be near him, so why wouldn’t he just take the hint and leave? You weren’t fully healed, so you were growing tired as you began walking in the garden’s maze in hopes to lose him. 
“Fuck off.”
You felt your heart beating faster because you were feeling weak and tired again, but you ignored it and kept going. You didn’t want Zuko to bother you anymore. He calls your name once more, and his voice sounds faint so you know you’ve already begun to lose him in the maze. 
Turning a corner to catch your breath, you grab your chest. Your vision was becoming hazy and it was hard staying on two feet. It was like you were poisoned again once more and you felt yourself wobbling and struggling to even stand. When Zuko calls your name again, it’s because he’s catching you as you fall to the ground.
He’s yelling your name again, but this time you can barely hear him and his face is becoming more blurry as the time passes. He’s shaking you and yelling your name, but your hearing is clouded and you feel yourself fainting in his arms, your eyes closing shut against your own will.
•••
When you awaken, the only sound in the room is the cackling fire by the bed you’re lying in. Except it’s not your bed. Sitting in a chair and half lying on the side of the bed is Zuko, sleeping soundly. You sit up and look around, the curtains are drawn so it’s almost completely dark in the room except for the fire going on the other side of the room. 
It’s Zuko’s room. 
You had never been in his room, but you could tell it was his from the portraits of his uncle and mother and a nearby wall and his dual swords sitting above the bed on the wall. Looking at his bedside table, you eye a book sitting on it.
Flowers & Their Meanings
Zuko reads? 
You grab the book, noting a corner of a page folded in, and you flip to it. The page is titled ‘Purple Hyacinth’ and below was some written information on it. Your thoughts run back to when you had first awakened after being poisoned, back to your conversation with Katara.
“How long was I out?” you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.
“Couple days. Mai brought you here. And she brought you flowers.” Katara gestured to the vase of flowers on your bedside table. Purple hyacinths. 
You raised an eyebrow in confusion. Why was Mai apologizing with flowers? She didn’t even like flowers, and even if she did get them for you, her choice of purple hyacinths were bizarre. Purple hyacinths symbolize sadness, and asking for forgiveness.
No.
There was absolutely no way it was Zuko that brought those flowers to you. Katara said it herself that Mai brought those flowers. You did think that it was weird for Mai to bring you flowers since she hated them, but Zuko? He hates you, and you hate him. So why on Earth would he bring you apology flowers? It didn’t make any sense.
“You saw the flowers?” 
You flinch in surprise, shutting the book and setting it down on the nightstand. Zuko is awake now, and sits back up in his chair. Crossing his arms against his chest, he silently and awkwardly avoids your eyes.
“That was you?” you stare at him in disbelief.
“You think Mai would give you flowers?” he stares deeply into your eyes, and you have the urge to look away.
“That’s what Katara said.”
He sighs. “I told her not to tell you about them.”
“Why?”
“I thought you’d hate it if I visited, so I sent flowers instead. I told Katara to say it was someone else.”
Actually, you thought the flowers were sweet, but that was because you thought they were from Mai and not Zuko. You and Zuko never got along well, so why would he give you flowers? It didn’t make sense at all and was confusing you. Why was he so worried when you got poisoned and why has he been following you around like a lost puppy since you woke up? 
“What is wrong with you?” you said without thinking.
“Huh?”
“You wait for me to awaken after being poisoned, you read a book about flowers to pick the right ones to send to me, then you won’t stop following me after I wake up? What the hell’s going on with you, Zuko? What happened to trying to get Mai to love you again, huh? What, now that you know you can’t have her, you’re paying attention to me now, is that it?” you were starting to feel furious, mostly out of confusion, but sadness as well. 
The sudden shift in Zuko’s attitude had you feeling lost and had you questioning how you felt about him. Since you had gotten married, you didn’t enjoy being his wife, so now that things were changing, you were questioning why that was. 
“No, stop. That’s not the truth at all. That’s far from the truth.”
“You’re a liar.” you stand up, stepping from his 
warm bed sheets as you walk towards the door. He quickly catches up to you, closing the door with his hand from behind you. He’s standing close to you, too close you can feel his breath tickle the back of your neck.
“Let me explain.”
You take a deep breath, debating if you wanted to hear him out. 
“Please,” he begs you, his voice small and careful. It was as if he was walking on eggshells around you. When you react with nothing but silence, he takes it as a cue to continue.
“Things have changed, okay?” he tells you, and you turn around to look up at him and face him. 
You’ve never been so up close and personal with Zuko, not like this anyways. He smells clean, and you eye his loosely tightened robe—it’s not covering his body entirely. His chest is slightly exposed, heaving up and down as he nervously tries to control his breathing around you.
“Oh yeah? How so?” you keep your eyes trained on his chest, because if you look into his eyes, you might just give in to him. 
“I know we’ve had our differences—” he begins.
“I never wanted to marry you.”
“I know, I felt the same way. Well, I did. I feel… differently now.”
“Different?” you look up at him with a glare, a hidden anger suddenly starting to rise to the surface the more you stare into his dumb pretty eyes.
“Listen, I never wanted to marry you either. And when we did get married, I hated it. I know you did, too. But I don’t know, recently—recently things have changed. In a good way. I don’t know if I’ve always felt this way, maybe I have, but I can’t help but be drawn to you. And it’s driving me absolutely insane. I thought I was insane. Because it’s like, every time I see you, I can’t help but fall for you. I can’t help but stare at you and I can’t help but want you.” 
Zuko speaks with such honesty and passion there is no doubting his words, and that’s what pisses you off. It takes getting poisoned for him to realize he’s in love with you? Where the hell did that even come from?
“I hate you.” is all you can say, because you don’t know how to feel. You’re lost and confused and you don’t know how to handle it.
“I know you don’t,” he speaks softly, his hand coming up to tilt your chin upwards.
His eyes look like a brighter shade of his stupid golden eyes, and he’s staring into your soul so intensely it makes you shudder.
“I do. I do hate you.” you whisper, your voice shaking and unsure. God, you probably sounded like an idiot.
“Oh yeah?” his tone is mischievous as he leans in closer, his eyes lowering to your lips.
“Yes. I hate everything about you.”
“Say it again. Tell me you hate me.”
“I hate you.”
“I love you.” 
Zuko leans in quickly, his lips meeting yours in an instant. You hesitate for a moment, relishing in his soft kiss. It’s like time froze all around you and all you could think of was Zuko’s lips on yours and his large and soft hands coming up to gently stroke your cheeks.
His kiss is so innocent and sweet it pisses you off knowing how good he is at kissing. He leans into you, just barely pressing his chest to yours, and you can feel his heartbeat quicken. One hand is in your hair, combing through the soft strands as his other hand holds your waist, directing your body to press back into his. His thumb is rubbing at your hip, trying to feel you through the fabric of your clothes and suddenly you have the thought and urge to rip it all off so he can feel you up as much as he wants.
“Tell me again,” Zuko breathes into the kiss.
“What?”
“Tell me you hate me.” he pulls away for a moment and waits for you.
“I hate you.”
“I love you.” he responds breathlessly, smashing his lips against yours. This time he’s impatient, kissing you like he’s running out of time or like you’re going to be taken away and this is his last moment with you.
His head tilts to the side, the hand that was in your hair moving to grab you by your chin, easily directing you to open your mouth into the kiss. He licks into you, desperate for more as he kisses you harder, like some starved man that hasn’t had a meal in forever. His chest is heaving and you feel the hand on your waist wandering the curves of your body, desperate to feel your bare skin.
You push him away from you slightly, but only because you’re out of breath and need a moment to process what just happened.
Zuko kissed you. And you kissed him back.
But he did more than just kiss you. He made you feel something. He made you want him back. Something you never thought he was capable of. 
“What about…” you start, unsure if you should say what you’re about to say. 
You either have no talent for hiding your thoughts, or Zuko knows you well, because it’s as if he’s reading your mind because he finishes your sentence for you.
“Mai?”
You nod silently. You always thought she was the one for him, after all up until a while ago he was trying to get back with her.
“Things have changed,” he starts. “Actually, they’ve been changing for awhile. And it’s not what you think.”
Please, did he really think you would believe that? “Okay, then explain calling Mai to confess your love to her again in the gardens.”
“That day in the gardens,” he explains as he leads you to sit on his bed with him. “I didn’t call her out to confess to her. I wanted to see her to ask about you.”
Your eyes narrowed at him; you didn’t believe anything that was coming out of his mouth. 
“I know you two are close, so I wanted to ask her for advice because I was already falling for you. But she was calling me a dick for bothering her so she left.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
He looks stunned. “You wouldn’t have believed me even if I explained it to you, so it didn’t matter.”
He’s right, you would’ve thought he was a liar and you probably would’ve called him a liar like you did five minutes ago.
“So… you’re not still in love with her?”
“No.”
“You’re telling me you’re not hopelessly, desperately, absolutely blind in love with her that you can’t do anything else or think about anyone else?” you tease in one breath, your heart feeling lighter.
“No, but do you want to know who I’m actually hopelessly, desperately, absolutely blind in love with that I can’t do anything else or think about anyone else?”
“I wonder who it could be.”
“Why don’t you take a guess.” he teases, leaning over you, sharp eyes watching your every move.
“I don’t know.” you do know.
“You don’t?” he chuckles, leaning into your neck, his breath lightly tickling your skin. 
“Nope.”
“Would you like a hint?” His voice is so deep and sultry you’re practically trembling at how sexy he sounds.
“That’d be nice.”
“Well, the woman I’m in love with is fucking crazy,” Zuko begins, his hand coming up to stroke your thigh. Your eyes move down to watch his muscular hands massage your inner thighs, moving closer and closer to your pussy with each firm stroke. It’s faint, but you feel yourself clench around nothing.
The veins on his hand are distracting.
“She tried to kill me with a steak knife recently,” he laughs as he recalls the memory, pulling away slightly to look at you. 
He is watching your face, trying to read and memorize your features as his eyes gaze into yours. There is a new softness in his eyes when he looks at you, unlike the usual sharp glare he shoots you when you both make eye contact.
“You’re in love with a woman who tried to kill you?” you laugh quietly, going along with whatever joke he’s making.
“Surprisingly, yes. I’m even looking at her right now. Do you know who I’m in love with now?” he smiles, his eyes curving into a smile as well.
“I might need another hint.” you answer, your eyes flickering down to his lips. You hope he will kiss you again.
He picks up on your hint, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your lips. “I’ve kissed her a couple times now. But the last couple times,” he kisses you again. “It’s like she’s laced her lips with drugs or something. I’ve become addicted to her lips in just a couple kisses.” he glances down for a second, grabbing your hand and leading it to where he wants it.
He’s hard.
He directs you to stroke him through the thin material of his loosely tied robe, his lips coming down to suck on the soft skin of your neck. 
“And in just a couple kisses,” he says again. “She’s managed to make me so hard.” he breathes against your neck. 
“You make me so hard.” Zuko whispers faintly. 
His voice sounds so sweet and sexy it almost pisses you off how much his tone is turning you on. You stroke him through his robe, feeling his hard cock underneath. You have the urge to suddenly rip off his robe, wanting to feel him. His abs, his smooth skin, his strong thighs, and his hardened dick. He lets out a soft moan against your neck, his hips unexpectedly bucking upwards for more friction. 
“You have no idea what you do to me.” he whispers in your ear, his voice a slight whine. 
“I think I have an idea.” you laugh, slightly tugging at the strings that tie his robe together. It’s so loosely wrapped around him that if you just tugged on it slightly, you would finally get to see him naked. He watches your fingers play with his robe, sensing your impatience. 
“Take it off.” he tells you, and you act automatically, undoing the knot. He stands briefly, letting the piece of clothing fall to the ground. You stay seated on the bed, your eyes practically groping his entire body. He’s so sculpted and muscular and perfect in every way it almost pisses you off.
His hardened cock springs to life, red and angry at the tip, he looks like he could cum from just a couple strokes. Your eyes make their way back to his, and he’s watching you with such an intensity in his eyes it makes you shudder in pleasure. You stare at him in awe, almost lost in his eyes you don’t notice him stroking your cheek, his voice a small whisper. 
“I love seeing you look up at me like that,” he grins, grabbing his dick as he continues to caress your cheek. “It makes me want to ruin you.” You watch him stroke himself, his pre-cum leaking at the tip.
“Then ruin me.”
He smiles a sweet smile in response, before he sticks his fingers in your mouth, forcing your lips apart before he shoves his dick into your mouth. 
He’s big, way too big and the biggest you’ve ever had, but you love it. You love how it fills your mouth and you feel like you’re going to choke and it makes you think about just how good it will feel when he finally fucks you. You’re taking him all in your mouth, desperate to hear something from him, to see some sort of reaction that you’re making him feel good. Your hands grab onto both of his thighs, feeling him tense beneath your fingertips. 
Strands of your hair fall in front of your face, blocking your view of him, so he grabs it, combing it behind your ears to clear your face. His hands grab at your head, shoving it further down his cock, and when you gag that’s when you hear it. 
A low, desperate, sweet sounding moan that makes you clench around nothing again. He bites down hard on his bottom lip in an attempt to quiet himself, but your mouth keeps sucking him in he can’t help but let out a moan of pleasure. 
“Fuck,” he groans, thrusting deeper into your mouth. Your eyes water and you rub your thighs together, anxious and impatient and wanting him to hurry and fuck you. “I love your mouth.”
He pulls out, a string of saliva connecting from your lips to his tip as he pulls his cock out. He’s visibly more turned on now; pupils dilated and cheeks red and heated.
“Your mouth feels good,” he easily grabs you by the hips to move you further up the bed. “But I bet this feels even better.” he forcefully spreads your legs with his knees and presses a hand to your clothed pussy. “For both of us.”
“It’d feel even better if you undressed me first.” you command him.
“Yes, ma’am.” he obeys, practically ripping your clothes off and throwing them behind him.
Your underwear is completely soaked, you look away and blush in embarrassment. God, did you look that desperate for some dick? Zuko seems to be infatuated with how wet you’ve become, because he leans down in front of you, his mouth hovering over your heat. 
“You don’t have to.” you tell him, grabbing his hair to stop him. 
“You’re right. I don’t have to,” he agrees, spreading your legs further so that you’re completely spread out for him, your entire body exposed for him and only him. “But all I can think about right now is tasting you.” he says before he places a kiss on the inside of your thigh. 
“You’re so wet,” he observes aloud. “I love it.” 
He leans in, his tongue sticking out to lick a strip up your wetness. He’s lapping at your pussy, licking and sucking and kissing everything it makes you dizzy. He sucks on your clit, his fingers teasing your entrance. You’re so turned on by the sound of him eating you out, you grab his hair by instinct to pull him closer to you. When he groans, you mistake it for a groan of annoyance or pain, so you let go. His lips leave your wetness for a moment, his eyes looking up to meet yours.
“Grab my hair again,” he takes your hand and entangles it into his hair again. “I love when you pull on it. I fucking love it.”
You can’t help but whimper, pulling on his roots as he moans in pleasure and you don’t know if it’s because you’re tugging on his hair or because he loves eating you out or both. Your hips are moving on their own, bucking upwards into his face as his fingers easily make their way inside you, fucking you slowly to loosen you up. 
“Ahh,” you cringe at yourself, almost ashamed and embarrassed you can’t hold yourself back. Your hands leave his hair to cover your face, heat rushing to your cheeks. Zuko pulls away from you, wiping his mouth before tugging at your hands.
“Why are you covering your face?” he asks, his hands gently wrapping at your wrists and rubbing your skin soothingly.
“No reason,” you shake your head, mortified.
“Come on now, let me see your face.” he grabs your wrists with one hand, pinning them above your head as he holds you down, his face inches away from yours.
You’re even more embarrassed and red now. You’re both completely naked and he’s situated between your legs, his cock rubbing against your entrance teasingly. Your hands are pinned above you, and the weight of his hand is holding you down, you’re unable to move. He’s watching you, basking in your embarrassment.
“I love your voice,” he assures you. 
“When you’re yelling at me,” he kisses your cheek.
“Insulting me,” he kisses your other cheek.
“And especially when you’re moaning for me.” he leaves small kisses on your jawline as his hips move against yours, his hard cock rubbing against your wetness. You’re so desperate to have him fuck you it’s almost impossible not to whine in annoyance. 
“I love when you moan. I want to hear more of it.” he says before he pushes himself into you.
“Oh,” you gasp, struggling to take him in.
“Fuck,” he lets go of your pinned hands and grabs your hips. 
“You son of a bitch,” you curse, your walls clenching down and welcoming him. You feel yourself throb around him, sucking him in as your hands wrap around his back. “You’re too big.” 
“You like it though,” he mumbles, pleasure taking over his body it’s becoming harder for him to speak clearly. He thrusts slowly, swearing to himself under his breath again. You moan as he fucks you more, your hands holding the back of his neck as he buries himself into you.
“I love it, it feels so good.” you moan, stroking his hair as his hips roll against you.
“I love you.” he tells you. 
“I love you.” he repeats, practically chanting it like it’s some sort of prayer.
He keeps whispering it into your ear, and you lift your hips, wrapping your legs around him as he continues to thrust into you. He glides in and out of you so easily it turns you on even more that he gets you so wet and ready so easily.
Your hands are busy exploring his smooth skin, feeling his neck and collarbone when he moans in your ear, his voice almost silent and pleading. 
“Choke me,” he begs. “L-Like you did the other day. Do it again.”
“What?”
“Please,” he breathes out, his eyes looking into yours, desperate and aroused. “I want your hands wrapped around my throat.”
You steadily place your hands on the side of his neck, careful not to block his airway. You squeeze the sides of his neck slightly, and as soon as you do, his eyes roll back in pleasure and his thrusts are harder. 
“Mmm,” he moans, biting down on his lips as he fucks into you. “Harder,” he demands.
The harder you choke him, the harder he fucks you. His moans grow louder and he’s practically chanting your name, begging you to destroy him as his thrusts grow haphazard the closer he gets to orgasming. 
He explodes, filling you up with so much cum it starts leaking out. But Zuko keeps going, desperate to make you finish as well. You’re no longer choking him, but your hands are instead messing up his hair and his lips are on your breasts, biting and sucking and kissing, you feel dizzy. 
His lips feel so good on your body. He leaves kisses and marks and words of his love and devotion for you it’s all so overwhelming. When he starts whispering to you how good your pussy feels and how much he loves you, it pushes you over the edge and you feel yourself clenching down on him hard as you reach your high.
When there’s nothing but the sound of your heavy breaths, all of a sudden you feel awkward. You hadn’t realized it until now, but you had been slowly falling for his stupid face and you were in denial about it this whole time.
“What’re you thinking so hard about?” Zuko hovers over your face, looking deeply into your eyes as if he’s trying to read you.
“Your stupid face.”
He chuckles, leaning down to brush his nose against yours before he leaves a small kiss on your cheek. 
“I’m in love with you.” he tells you.
“Oh.”
“Oh?”
“Thank you.” you say awkwardly, because you’re not good with words and you’re too embarrassed to tell him that you’re also in love with him because you would probably cringe and feel even more awkward than you do right now. 
“So… you do have a thing for being choked!” you tease when you suddenly remember him asking you to choke him.
He tenses, his eyes widening as he suddenly pulls out of you and sits up. “No I don’t!”
“If I remember correctly, you asked me to choke you! Remember? You were practically begging—”
He leans down, quickly kissing you to shut up. “I don’t remember that. And tell me you love me back.” he demands.
“Admit you like being choked first.”
“No.”
“Fine, then I don’t love you. I still hate you.”
“Tell me you love me.” he demands again, unwilling to give up.
“Tell me you like being choked.” you fire back.
He’s quiet for a moment, and that’s when you know you’ve won. 
“Fine. I do like it, but don’t tell anyone!” he glares at you. “Now you say you love me.” 
“I hate you.” you tease.
“Whatever, I still love you.” Zuko rolls his eyes, leaning in to kiss you once more.
•••
a/n: i literally added in the part of zuko getting choked after seeing a tiktok on how to properly choke someone during sex 😂
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The Heat
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MDNI!🔞
Pairing: Aged¡Up¡Neteyam x Fem¡Omatikaya¡Reader
Synopsis: Reader goes into heat and Neteyam being the good boy he is helps her ofc
Warnings: SMUT, breeding, cussing
A/N: Well guys I couldn’t contain myself from writing a reader in heat fic and y’all wanted Neteyam to be the lucky man so here ya go!🤭 Also sorry it’s taken so long! Hope you enjoy and Happy Valentines Day 💌
W/c: 2.5k
The day started off like usual. You woke up and got ready for the day, fixing your everyday beads into your hair and freshening up with some some oils. You were still living in your parents hut despite their efforts to get you married off, so in turn you had to do the same amount of work they did, maybe even more since they were getting older.
You had a good bit of chores to do today — helping your mother weave a couple more loincloths for your family, helping your little brother practice his English, and the timeliest chore of all, going to the outskirts of the forest to collect yovo fruit.
You’d decided to leave that chore for last, going in the afternoon soon after you’d had lunch with some of your friends. You asked if any of them could go with you to keep you company and help, but they all had their own things to do for today.
And so you started on your way, basket in hand and some supplies to help you with the picking. You figure it shouldn’t take you anymore than about 2-3 hours so you could be back in time to help your mother prepare dinner.
You knew you were over halfway there, you recognized a little pond that you’ve mentally noted as a halfway mark whenever you’d had to do this before. There was no sign of any Na’vi out here which was a little nerve racking but you knew how to protect yourself if there was any danger to come, having your bow on your back and knife on your hip.
Then you suddenly felt a sting in your lower stomach. Your ears perked up at the feeling but you kept walking, assuming it would go away.
But then you felt your temperature rise, sweat starting to form on your hairline. Your hands were clammy and you felt a bit dizzy. This made your heart drop because now was not the time to fall ill, though you were confident someone would come find you if you weren’t back by eclipse.
You found a rock and decided to sit on it and try to catch your breath. You were trying not to freak out but you didn’t know what was wrong.
The stinging was getting worse and turned more into a sharp aching, making you wince at the uncomfortableness. Your breath was quickly picking up and your mouth went dry.
You opted to kneel onto the ground, hunching over in pain. And then that’s when you realized — you must be in heat. These were all the tell-tale signs of a heat, which you had never experienced before.
You mentally cursed at the horrible timing. You knew you needed the Tsahik to help you but here you were, stranded in the deep forest.
It was rapidly getting more intense and you were losing all your thoughts. Your brain and body was turning to mush and your pupils dilated, you knew your control and rationality was slipping away.
Trying to find relief, you tugged off your loincloth and jeweled top. It cooled you down for a second, but only for the desperate need to keep spreading more intensely all throughout your body.
You knew what you needed and it was all that consumed your mind. You were no stranger to sex, you’ve had a few men. But this wasn’t about fun, casual sex — you needed to be bred and you felt it deep in your aching womb, as much as you would normally hate to admit that. But now you had no shame and were only focused on getting your sweet release.
Neteyam was out on patrol for the day and he didn’t mind this job. It consisted of walking near the borders and all around the uncommon areas in the forest. Usually he ran into no problems, so he didn’t complain about this duty. It was actually quite peaceful as it allowed him to be alone with his thoughts as he was out walking, still on high alert nonetheless.
He was just about to take a break from walking and dip his feet into a little pond he spotted when he smelled something unfamiliar. He didn’t recognize the scent but it was so good. His nose twitched as he tried to follow the sweet smell and then he heard a high pitch whine, like someone was in distress.
All his senses on alert, he carefully followed these distractions. And that was when he saw you.
He stumbled back in shock as he took in the scene before him. You were naked and drenched in sweat, straddling a large rock and grinding mercilessly on it, covering it in your juices and sweat. You were whining so much it looked like you were crying, clearly being tortured. And he recognized you, he knew your name and would see you out occasionally but that was about it.
As he was trying to process what his eyes were seeing, your scent crept up into his nose, even stronger and heavy in the air. Your eyes were screwed shut so you hadn’t noticed him yet until you smelled him—earthy and musky like a man.
Your eyes flashed open and head snapped to find him standing, a small whine escaping your lips.
“Y/n?” He breathed out shakily, as if he couldn’t believe it was you who was really in front of him doing this.
“Neteyam!” You shouted in relief. You were completely gone at this point.
His ears shot up at the sound of his name, though concern filled his eyes at your state.
“I need your help,” you cried, almost sobbing right then.
His eyes looked around still trying to process it all. He realized you were in heat and needed to see the Tsahik so she could give you medicines to ease the pain until it passed. But Eywa, you looked so good. After all he was only a man and had his limits too, even as the golden child. He gathered his thoughts and cleared his throat.
“Y/n, you poor girl,” he said sympathetically, “I’m so sorry this has happened out here. Let me carry you back to the tsahik, okay?”
“Nooo! Can’t wait! I need you to help me, you know what I need!” You whined to him.
He really did feel bad for you, you looked pitiful. And your scent was still continuing to attack his nostrils, getting him high on you.
You weakly crawled over to him and clung onto his leg. “Please!! I’ll do anything! I’m sorry- but please just help me!!” You laid your head tenderly against his calf as your body was slightly shaking and planted a kiss on his leg.
His eyes grew wide at your display of submission and neediness. You were breaking him quickly. He prided himself on his self-control and discipline, having been able to always do the right thing. But you were making him hungry with desire, he wanted nothing more than to indulge in you and give you everything you wanted right now. But what would his or your parents think? He needed to calm you down and get you to someone else before he crumbled completely. He swallowed hard and took a deep breath.
“Sweet girl,” he cooed softly looking down at you, though his eyebrows were scrunched up and jaw was clenching from his own internal war of trying to resist you. “I know it hurts but I can run fast, let me get you to help!” He reasoned and tugged your arms.
“Teyam NO! I need to be fucked right now!” Now you really were crying in desperation.
He finally lost his restraint at your vulgar plead. He crouched down to your level and held your face gently in his hands, seriousness sketched on his face.
“You’re not in your right mind,” he shook his head and you felt a pang of disappoint for a moment, “but I will help you. As you wish” he whispered tenderly.
You were ecstatic that he finally agreed. You nodded your head vigorously and pounced on him, losing your patience. He grunted as you both fell back and you landed on him. You ripped off his loincloth. You were not yourself at all but this wasn’t registering in your brain. You just knew you needed dick, now.
His pretty face looked surprised and taken aback by your straightforwardness but it was quickly replaced by his own desperation to have you.
You grabbed his dick and grinned from ear to ear, you were impressed with his size and couldn’t wait to have him in you. He propped himself on his elbows to watch you. You eagerly positioned him to your entrance, ready to lower yourself.
“Shit baby, just wanna get right to it, huh?” He commented and let out a weak chuckle, though he wasn’t really complaining.
“Mhmm, can’t wait Teyam” you whimpered.
He nodded his head in understanding and placed his hands on your hips to encourage you on. “Go on, sevin” he urged you. He knew you were using him but he didn’t mind and wanted to help you.
You sank down on him, marveling in the sensation. His cock gave the perfect amount of drag on your walls as you went lower and lower until your hips met. Both your jaws were slack and he groaned at the feeling.
“So fucking tight and wet” he grunted, “you’re gonna drive me crazy”
You moaned in response and tightened around him. He didn’t fail to notice you squeezing him after he spoke.
“You like what I’m sayin, huh? You like being talked to?”
“Yes, please!”
“Start riding me, take whatever you need.”
You wasted no time in obliging his request. You sat up and slammed back all the way down, taking all of him once again. You moaned in unison at the sweet friction.
Picking up the pace, you began bouncing on him. You planted your hands onto his chest for stability and he grabbed your wrists to hold them in place.
“F-fuck! Mmmm yeah, you’re doing so good, y/n” he praised you, urging you on.
You were a moaning mess above him, not even able to form words at the moment. His cockhead was hitting your cervix each time and the pleasure was consuming every nerve in your body. It was all you could think about.
You were creaming all over him, it coated his lower stomach and thighs, making unholy noises. You could feel your release approaching and he could feel his too, as his dick began to twitch inside of you.
“Teyam! Gonna- gonna cum!!” You announced to him.
“I know babe I know, do it!! I am too- shit!” He squeezed his eyes shut, his orgasm overtaking his body.
As soon as you felt his seed shooting into you and heard his low whimpers of pleasure, that was all you needed to get to completion too.
“Ahh! Fuck, fuckkkk!” You screamed so loud they could probably hear you back at the village. You convulsed around his length, milking him dry. You rode out your high on him, not even caring that you were overstimulating him as he was writhing on the ground below you.
You slumped onto him after you got what you wanted. Your bodies were sweating and slippery against each other, hearts pounding and panting into each others ears.
After a few seconds, you still felt the aching in your womb wanting more. You rose up to look at him and try to beg for more, hoping he would grant your request.
“You had enough?” He asked. He looked pussy drunk and you loved that it was yours that got him this way.
“No.. need more” you cried shamelessly and harshly sniffed his scent in like it was a drug.
“Okay sweetie,” he began as he secured you in his arms and rose up to his feet effortlessly. Eywa, he was so strong. “Let me fuck you properly. My way.”
He backed you up against a tree, still holding you up with his big, bulky arms. You knew he was muscular of course but you had never been this close to him. You went from barely being acquaintances to getting real close, real fast. It definitely would never be the same after this.
His length was already rock hard again, no doubt because of your strong pheromones suffocating him and putting him under your spell. By Eywa, you were making him an animal too. He wanted to make you cum over and over again, screaming his name.
He grabbed his dick with one hand and slid it across your abused, puffy cunt. He loved the sight and wanted this moment etched in his mind forever.
“So, so pretty y/n. You should’ve let me do this a long time ago. Guess I didn’t catch your eye” he stated jokingly.
“You’re the olo’eyktan’s son.. I figured you’d never have time for someone ordinary like me”
“Ordinary?? You just made me cum embarrassingly soon, I think that’s rather impressive and special” he chuckled. You laughed too. Gah, he was so handsome.
Bringing you out of your daze, he pushed his dick inside you. You were still wet with yours and his release so it glided easily. You instantly let out a long moan at being full of him again.
His ears were peeled back and he was biting his lip to try to suppress his own sounds of satisfaction. He was definitely pussy whipped.
He started his pace and it simply felt like heaven. Your pussy was already more sensitive from previously orgasming so the pleasure was intensified and downright addicting.
You were moaning and whimpering incoherently and he was watching your perfect, round tits bounce like he was in a trance.
“Damnit girl” he gritted through his teeth, struggling to keep any sort of composure “You’re so good. Doing so good for me”
He finally took the opportunity to kiss you on the lips. He was warm and sweet on your tongue, you let him take over your mouth and moaned through the kiss. You wanted to scream from the pleasure but he made you take his kiss.
You were getting near and he could tell by the way you squeezed him. He wanted to cum with you so he started jackhammering up into you, holding onto you so you wouldn’t fall out of his grasp from the aggressive thrusts flinging you about.
“Ohhhh! My Eywa! It’s too much!” You cried out, words broken up slightly from the air getting knocked out of you.
“You can take it! Cmon take it for me, sevin!” he pleaded desperately with you.
You came undone over him and shook violently. The pleasure coursed through every inch of you and you cried out his name over and over again. His name on your pretty lips was more than enough to push him over as well. He let out his load into you and pushed it all the way back to your cervix.
He crashed onto you and you were squished between the tree and his heavy, brawny body. You didn’t mind the squeeze though, you loved how huge he was and how small he made you feel.
He was lowly humming in satisfaction. Weakly, he lifted his head up to look at you, you were so close you were nose-to-nose. Both your expressions were of being fucked out and pure bliss.
His hooded eyes filled with lust searched your eyes. “Another round?”
…………….
Taglist: @professional-yapper @neteyamssyulang @nonamevenus
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readychilledwine · 18 days
Text
Mister Grumpy Pantseses
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Summary - All you wanted was a day in the vegetable garden with your husbands. Your husbands just wanted to spend the day at each other's throats.
Warnings - a bit of a communication issue trope, grumpy sunshine, reader is Tamlin's sister and uses one of his tactics, jealousy, name calling, Fluff, reader is a literal ray of joy
Prompt - Day 5 - Favorite Tropes
A/N - Happy @polyacotarweek day 5! I am running a little behind, so my other fave trope will be up later, but enjoy a little grumpy azris with their sunshine reader with a bit of miscommunication
💕Poly+ACOTAR Week Masterlist💕
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 “Fucking asshole.”
“Azriel!”
“Bastard.”
“Eris!” You pouted at your mates, sighing as they glared at each other. "Can we please have a nice breakfast? We have so much work to do in the garden if we want the vegetables ready in time to take to the hungry. We need to have energy."
Azriel grumbled an agreement while Eris rolled his eyes. “I am more than happy to spend time with you, foxling. It is that one I can't stand the sight of right now.”
"Eris!"
“Eris, our mate is asking you to stop being an entitled, self righteous, snake for one day. Surely you can handle that.”
“Azriel!”
“You're the one who set me off this morning, Azriel. Must you always run around brooding?” You felt yourself slowly sinking into your chair. The males you love most were both tired, so very tired. They were stressed from their duties and all you wanted was to love and help them.
They had not spent time with just each other in a few weeks. Eris had been too heavily scented on their last night together. It had been Azriel's way of telling you hello, but it lingered, dancing into the air during breakfast at the Forest House the next day. You had glamored it well enough from everyone but his mother. She seemed to see through you and Eris. Almost like she knew you two were hiding something or someone. Eris had caved, telling her everything about Azriel. Her advice had been simple, protect him. 
And Eris had taken that as, “Avoid him.” 
You looked between your two glaring mates, heartbroken at how their sadness was turning to grumpiness. “I'm going to go to the garden. Maybe you two should talk.” You left before one of them could respond then smiled, warding them in the cabin. If they wouldn't talk willingly, you'd force them to!
Azriel glared at Eris, and the heir returned it fully. “Our mate, our beautiful, selfless, and kind mate is outside by herself. Working in that damned garden. Because you want to be a grumpy asshole.”
Eris looked shocked, eyes wide as his jaw dropped. “I haven't done anything! I tried to greet you last night, and you ignored me in favor of y/n. Then this morning you wouldnt even kiss me good morning!”
“Can you blame me? She at least answers when I write.” Azriel watched the hit land, watched as Eris seemed to deflate. 
“I missed you. Regardless of how you feel, I missed you.” Eris stood to go out the door and jumped back as he was shocked. “Oh you have got to be kidding me.”
Azriel felt his face fall as well, walking to the after he did and jumping back as he was shocked as well. “Took that straight out of her brother's book, didn't she?” 
Eris couldn't help but laugh. “She doesn't even know he did that. I keep her here and away from him and Rhysand lately. It would break her heart all over again."
Azriel then began to laugh too, “She hates when we are mean to each other.”
“Because the world should be sunshine and rainbows.”
“And we are grumpy.” 
The ward seemed to lessen as the two males laughed before moving to the large sliding door that overlooked your garden. You were laughing, the rays of light seeming to want to follow and dance with you. You were such a breath of air. Untouched by the cruelty of the world and sheltered. It had turned you into the happiest female the two of them had ever met. The glass was always half full in your mind if you didn't decide that it was already running over and just a teeny tiny cup. 
Being paired with them, two grumpy and brooding males, seemed unfair to you most days. You were always laughing, always making jokes, and for 300 years, Eris had protected you from it being any other way. When he had taken you to a diplomatic meeting pre-Amarantha though, that had all changed. 
The bond snapping between you and Azriel had been difficult, life changing, and rewarding. He pursued you, regardless of your known status as Eris's wife and mate, and his pursuit paid off. It had kept you safe from Amarantha, and once they all had been freed, the bond between him and Eris snapped. 
That had been a different journey. The two of them were constantly butting heads, constantly arguing, constantly making you cry. It all ended though when Eris had been brave enough to bluntly address the situation. He had pulled Azriel to him, crashing his lips down on his, and the rest became history. Where everyone else saw a fight during the High Lord's meeting, you saw foreplay. 
Azriel sighed, watching you, and then turned back to Eris. “Why did you avoid me? I worried I had hurt you.” 
“You scented me too heavily. She could hardly hide it.”
Azriel nodded, a scarred hand then taking the other male's calloused one. “Did he hurt you?”
“No. She focused on hiding it from him.”
“I am sorry.”
Eris whispered the words back before leaning his head on Azriel's shoulder. “She's so beautiful and happy.”
“You are also beautiful,” Azriel looked him over. “Though, you are as she says, a grumpy pants.”
Eris huffed. “Odd. She says the same of you.” The ward seemed to drop fully. Allowing Azriel to reach his hands out to door and slide it open. “Brat.” He muttered.
“You'll take care of that later.”
“And you will help?”
You smiled as your mates walked out before jumping with glee. “Eris! There's a bunny!”
“Yeah? I'm sure we have many bunnies, my love.”
You glared at him before turning to Azriel. “Azriel!” You paused dramatically. “There's a bunny!”
The shadowsinger looked to the heir, a small smirk on his face as you stuck your tongue out at him. “Show me, starlight.”
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General Taglist:
@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria
Poly+ACOTAR Week Taglist
@amara-moonlight @toporecall @littlestw01f @prettylittlewrites @anuttellaa @nayaniasworld @123345566
Ps- I had to fix the tags! I apologize!
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lydiimae · 24 days
Text
Gentle
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Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x fem!reader
Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, panic attack, fluff hehe, Anthony being the sweet husband ik he is
A.N: Hello my loves and hello dearest anon ^-^/! This one is a bit on the shorter side (2.5k words) but I had a lot of fun writing this and I hope I gave you what you wanted Nonnie. I imagine Anthony (I'M SO EXCITED TO SEE SEASON 3 MARRIED ANT AND KATE) as a protective and loving husband, who is also extremely gentle when he wants to be. Also, Infatuation pt two is in the works, for those that are eager (thank you btw <3 T-T) it should be out by next week at the latest. P.S I am planning on uploading at least twice a week hehe! Enjoy my dears! <3
Req found here <3
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Marrying a Viscount was always going to be stressful, it came with responsibility. As well as a certain necessity to be perfect, at least that is the thought that nagged you. It was only a matter of time before the stress of being Anthony Bridgerton's wife caught up to you.
You had honeymooned in Edinburgh and Bath, all of the usual quiet places. He wished to make it just that, quiet and peaceful as both of you knew that would be one of the only times you would live in that blissful silence. Without worry of gossip, or rumors, or responsibilities.
Anthony also knew that you had a tendency to be anxious. Whether it be a result of how many people were present at a ball, or the rumors that tended to linger in your mind even after they slowly washed away from others. He wanted to show you the sights, and the gorgeous nature that was present in both of the cities that he had selected.
He also wished to show you the city of Bath. Take you to one of the large Roman baths, parade you around town, and wander the hills for hours on end. All lovely things that had taken your mind away from the lingering anxieties of being the new Viscountess.
It had worked marvelously, you had been the happiest he had seen you ever since you had met. You were completely in your element, especially when you were outside. It was a very loving, and freeing six months away.
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Your leg jiggles as you fiddle with your gloves, looking out the window of the carriage as it rolls down the road to Aubery Hall. As soon as you had gotten back to England, your anxieties flooded back into your mind. You were already dreading what was going to happen. You and Anthony were already planning to attend a ball tomorrow, the first one of your marriage.
You hated it, you knew that people would talk, the women would glare and whisper, perhaps even confront you. You did not want to deal with it. You wished to be back in Bath, having a picnic with your husband, far away from the gossip.
You feel a hand on your knee and turn. "You have been antsy for four whole hours, my love. What is it?" He asks, moving his hand to yours and giving it a squeeze. You chew on your bottom lip and settle for resting your head on his shoulder. "I am only nervous for the ball tomorrow." You whisper.
"The ball, or the people?" He returns, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before tilting your chin up so he can look at you. You frown slightly and he gives a comforting grin. "They will talk, you know that, but none of it will matter. It is just that, talk." He murmurs before pressing a quick kiss to your lips.
"But what if... you leave and then I am alone and one of them tries to-" You begin, but he cuts you off swiftly with another kiss. A longer one, but still as sweet as before. You sigh and rest your forehead against his. "You are so much more capable than you know, Y/N. You are the perfect Viscountess and the perfect Bridgerton. None of them shall ever be able to take either of those two things away from you." He whispers.
You smile as your cheeks heat up from his speech. "You are mine, mine to protect and mine to love. I take that duty very seriously." He finishes, cupping your cheek. You lean into his touch and smile. "I love you." You whisper back and he grins. "And I love you." He returns.
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Tomorrow comes all too quick, and soon you are in the large closet in your master bedroom, your maids pulling on the strings of your corset to get it to your liking. Anthony, however, waits downstairs in his study already dressed up fully for the occasion.
You had promised to try and be quick, and he knows you tried to keep that promise. He also knew that you wanted to look perfect, so he did not mind being a bit late to the ball. He wished for you to be as comfortable as you could be. After about thirty minutes of waiting, he had sent his family ahead, promising to meet them there.
He would be lying if tonight was a relaxed night for him. He was a ball of nerves, but he knew how to hide them well. He was not nervous for him, no, he was nervous for you.
He knew that you were perfect, and all of the much older and married members of the ton did as well. It was the cruel debutantes he worried about. He knew that many of them would be bitter, even if they were not interested in him. It was many women's third or fourth social season, many women would take that out on any kind soul they could find, and you were the kindest.
He downs his glass of scotch and adjusts his cravat before standing up and going to the bottom of the staircase. He wanted to see you now, and he would not wait another second. Just as he is about to call out, you appear at the top of the steps, dressed in the infamous Bridgerton blues.
The gown is a gorgeous navy blue, and you have paired it with long, white, silk gloves. Your hair is pulled back in his favorite way, an elegant pin holding it up in an elaborate bun. To tie it all together, you are wearing the diamond necklace and earrings he bought you in Edinburgh. So simple, yet so incredibly beautiful. So you.
You smile at him as you walk down the stairs and he just about dies right there. "My God, you look ethereal." He whispers as he offers you his arm. You gladly take it and he grins, pressing a kiss to your forehead before leading you to the carriage.
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The driver opens the door of the carriage once the two of you arrive at Lady Danbury's grand estate. You look out at the many other women and men filing out of their carriages and feel a familiar sense of dread, causing you to gnaw on the skin on the inside of your cheek.
"Darling?" He asks after a moment and you look up, your cheeks flushing in embarrassment once you realize he has probably been holding his hand out for you for some time. "Sorry." You mumble, before taking his hand and allowing him to pull you to your feet and help you out of the carriage.
The two of you walk hand in hand into the ballroom, which is bustling with activity. However, when the Viscount and his new bride enter, all of the chattering halts. The eery silence makes you wrap your arms around one of his, the sense of dread looming over your head only getting more intense.
He notices and moves down, kissing you softly on the lips. Part of it is for show, of course, but part of it is also because he knows that it will calm your nerves down to a point where you can manage them. He just knows, always.
He pulls away. "Come on, we are going to make this boring night a good one, hm?" He murmurs. You smile gently and nod, walking deeper into the ball. You hear the whispers, the cruel words from the other women, but choose to ignore them for now.
The two of you arrive at the space on the floor where his family stands. He lets go of your arm with a kiss on your cheek and enters a conversation with Colin. You walk to Eloise, of course, and begin to speak to her about your newest literary obsession.
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Anthony eventually finds himself surrounded by his friends, leaving you and Eloise to your own devices. "It is quite an interesting story, I am surprised I only found just found it." You hum as she grins. She had recommended the book Frankenstein after you had said you wished to read more of the classics. "I am surprised as well, you always struck me as a horror type of woman." She teases, bumping your shoulder. You laugh lightly as she does.
"Well, now I know that I am only to come to you for book recommendations as my husband is quite lacking in that department." You return, your eyes filled with playful affection. "Well, I could have told you that, Y/N. My brother, it seems, only likes books in the historical genre." She sighs and looks at her glass of lemonade. "I shall be right back, I am going to get more lemonade." She says and is off before you can protest.
You frown and look around for someone else to talk to, to hide behind really, as you wait. Before you can you are approached by none other than Cressida Cowper, an absolute addict to gossip. "Y/N L/N, I am surprised to see you alone. Has he grown bored of you already?" She says, tilting her head.
You wince and sigh. You knew it was coming, Cressida always had a knack for finding you when you were alone and vulnerable. Often times her insults insist on picking on your nervous demeanor, or even your kindness. The use of your maiden name, however, stung uniquely. A sign that she thought your marriage insignificant, and who knows how many others did. You can feel your breathing pick up already.
"Cressida. It is lovely to see you." You say softly, turning to face her head on. She rolls her eyes at your blatant disregard for her question. "Indeed. It is always a pleasure seeing how... dull you look. I am surprised the Viscount has not already taken a mistress, I mean, he would do well to." She sneers. "I-" You begin but she cuts you off.
"You know I am right. You are dull, Y/N. You always have been. It was a miracle you got as much attention as you did when you debuted and an even bigger miracle that you got married to Anthony. He will grow bored of you, just as everyone has." She scoffs before sauntering off to her next target.
You feel the heat of tears in your eyes and the familiar feeling of tightening in your chest. You know Cressida can be cruel, but what if she got those words from another? What if she was right? Perhaps Anthony will grow bored, perhaps he already has. The thoughts have you going into a spiral, your breathing picking up until you realize you cannot breathe anymore.
Eloise, upon noticing that Cressida had made her way over to you, rushes back. "Oh God, that woman is nothing but a jealous old spinster, Y/N." She whispers, putting her glass down and reaching out before she realizes that you are already too far gone. She takes your hand and begins to walk in search of her brother, "Hold on, Y/N. He has to be near. It will be alright." She says softly, though it does nothing to stop the state of panic you are already in.
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She finds him about two minutes later, and you are already in tears. She drags you to him and spins him around. "Cressida." She whispers before leaving the two of you together. He immediately wraps his arms around you and leads you out of the ballroom to one of the balconies, whispering sweet nothings into your ear the entire way.
"Alright. Look at me, my love." He murmurs once you are outside, grabbing your hands in his and pressing them to his chest so you can feel his heartbeat. "Ready?" He whispers when your tear-filled eyes meet his and you nod.
"Alright, in..." He breathes in and you do the same, your breathing stuttering as you try your best to follow. "And out..." He whispers, exhaling with you. The two of you have gone through this many times. He had helped you when you were courting, when you were engaged, and he will help you until the end of time.
After a few moments of him guiding you, your breathing calms and you wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your face into the fabric of his cravat. "What did she say, darling?" He murmurs, rubbing your back gently.
You hesitate, and he senses your apprehension. "I will not get angry with you over words that such an insignificant woman spoke, I will not cause a scene. I promise. I only wish to know before I take you back home, hm?" He whispers, gently cupping your cheeks so he can look at you.
You wait for a moment before taking a deep breath and nodding. "She said that you would grow tired of me, just like everyone else. That you would take a mistress. She said I was dull." You whisper back, your grip on his shirt tightening.
His face darkens for a moment before he pulls you back into his embrace. "She knows nothing, my love. If you were dull, I would not want to spend every waking moment of my life with you. I would not have married you if you were not perfect for me in every single way." He whispers, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.
"But I... I do this so often. I get so... so anxious. I am hardly a Viscounte-" You start but he cuts you off. "You are the perfect Viscountess. Y/N," He begins, pulling back a bit so he can look at you. "I do not say that lightly. I know that it has only been a short six months since we were wed, but I am more secure in my belief that you will be the perfect Viscountess. The perfect mother, the perfect head of my house. You are the perfect woman for me and for my family. Do not doubt that ever. Especially over some silly statement a foolish, sad woman made." He says, caressing your cheeks.
Your eyes burn at his speech, and your heart flutters. You lean in and press a lingering kiss to his lips before pulling away. "I love you so very much, Anthony." You whisper.
He grins, and you swear you see the faintest of pinks spread over his cheeks. "And I love you, Viscountess Bridgerton." He whispers, pressing another kiss to your lips. "Let us go home. Lady Danbury will not miss our company I'm sure." He hums as he parts, making you nod in response.
That is just what the two of you do. After saying goodbye to his family, and to Lady Danbury, the two of you make your way to the carriage.
The rest of the night is spent in bed, speaking of the future, whispering love confessions in each other's ears, and loads of kisses. Who knew that a man who seems so brutish could be so gentle just for you?
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465 notes · View notes
wriothesleybear · 1 month
Text
A True Angel Amongst Us
~warnings: Some angst but ends with fluff, insecure Sunday, slight story spoilers, fem!reader, 1.9k words.
~a/n: I've been wanting to write for Sunday for a while now and the first thing I write has angst ;-; I've been having trouble coming up with ideas for him, but after the 2.1 patch, I've wanted to write fluff for him and about his insecure side because I feel like he sort of has one deep down. Angel just needs some love.
Sunday has been tenser than usual lately. The stress from the loss of his dear sister, the struggle of finding her murderer, and the stress from the possibility of a traitor being amongst The Family and the pressure from his master being the main cause of his tension. He puts on a mask and pretends that everything is fine to ensure that The Family's image isn't tarnished, but behind closed doors is different. When he's alone, he just stares off into space, lost deep in the sea of his endless thoughts. Even with you, his dear wife, he puts on a mask sometimes. He doesn't want to worry you and show you the strong leader that he is, who is capable of overcoming any obstacles and who will deliver righteousness when the day comes.
But no matter how much he tries to hide his weaknesses, you can see beyond his mask. You notice in the way his shoulders are always tense, his hands in fists, the frown that lingers on his face when he thinks you aren't looking, and the way he's less talkative during your limited time together. You hate seeing your husband this way, knowing he's bottling everything up inside. It's only a matter of time until it all bubbles up and he eventually snaps.
You decide to visit him in his dreamscape mansion office. You hadn't seen him all day due to him being busy with work. You weren't even able to see him off this morning as his side of the bed was already empty and made up. Knocking on his door, he tells you to come in. "What brings you here my dear?" He says with his masked emotions. Your eyes survey his office, noticing how it's a bit messier than usual even for Sunday's standards. He usually has everything in perfect shape given his ocd. Nothing was ever out of place for him unless something was wrong, further proving your suspicions. He notices how your eyes survey his office, the look of concern on your face is apparent. "I wanted to check in on you, my love. I wanted to make sure you were doing okay." You offer him a gentle, kind smile. "Of course I'm doing well. Why wouldn't I be? As head of The Family, it is my duty to be competent to fulfill my role." He gives you a smile, but it's not a real one. It's one of those fake smiles he puts on for show when out in the public eye.
"Sunday. I know something's bothering you. Please, just talk to me." His smile falters, his fake smile fading as he contemplates your words. You had been worried about him ever since the death of his sister. As the caring wife you are, you've been by his side, making sure that he was doing alright. Bless your soul, but with all the questions and pity stares, he couldn't help but get disgruntled. He knows you meant well, but his insecurity couldn't help but get the better of him. He thought you saw him as weak. I mean, he couldn't protect his dear sister for god's sake. It's his duty to protect those he cares about and he failed. He surveys your face while lost in his thoughts. His train of thought is broken by your calls of his name. He plasters on his fake smile.
"Dear, there's no need to worry about me. Or do you truly believe I'm just that weak?" You're taken aback from his accusation. You gather your courage and try to shut down his allegation. "Of course I don't. You're the strongest person I know, Sunday. It's just.. I can tell you're undergoing a lot of stress lately given the loss of your sister and work. I want to help you." By now his fake smile has fallen completely, replaced with a emotionless look. Turning away from you, his back faces you, making you unable to see the pain on his facial features. "I'm fine. You should leave, dear.." You could hear the coldness in his tone. The emptiness in his words sending slight shivers down your spine. You try to protest and get him to open up to you, but he cuts you off. "Don't let me tell you twice." He says in a strict voice, void of emotion. You hesitate but respect his wishes. You turn to leave without another word said. He doesn't even notice the breath he was holding until the door shut behind you.
~
Later that night, you lay wide awake in bed. Thoughts of your earlier event with Sunday replay in your head. After you left Sunday's office, you thought everything would be okay by dinnertime, but he never showed. You tried not to take it to heart too much, taking in consideration what he's going through right now, but when it got to midnight and he still hadn't arrived home, you began to feel worse. You've known Sunday for years. You knew how he was raised to become the perfect leader to represent The Family. He was a strong leader who believed in righteousness, in helping those in need, and caring for the people of Penacony. You know he's the kindest and most compassionate person with many strengths, but you also knew that he had many insecurities. He was scared that others would see him as weak and he was worried that everything he worked so hard for would be taken from him. Getting tired of wallowing in your thoughts, you finally decide to find him and try to get him to talk to you one way or another.
Arriving to his office once again, you knock on the door and patiently wait for an answer. "Sunday? It's me. Can I come in?" No answer. Maybe he was shunning you, but you weren't one to back down and walk away. You weren't going to give up on your husband. "Sunday. I'm coming in." Grabbing the door knob, you push the door open and are welcomed to a dark office. The only faint light coming from the windows in his office. Even with the limited lighting, you were able to see that Sunday's office was a bigger mess than earlier. Papers and books were thrown about the floor, the miniature display of Penacony in ruins. Worried, you continue to scan the room until your eyes land on the man slumped over his desk. Walking over to him, you observe his appearance. His clothes are in disarray, coat thrown recklessly on the chair, his wings and hair disheveled. "Sunday.." You hesitate for a second before resting a hand on his head. He tenses from your touch, causing you to withdrawal your hand. "Darling? What happened?" You ask in the most gentlest voice you could muster while trying not to push him too hard to talk. He doesn't reply to you. He keeps his head down on his desk, not willing to move an inch.
You quietly sigh. "Sunday. I understand if you don't like me pestering you with worries and questions. I'm your wife and I care about you. I'm only trying to be there to support you. I am here to support you. For anything. I'm here." Silence. You didn't expect him to reply but you wanted him to hear you out. "I'll give you your space, but just know, I'm here for you with open arms when and if you need to talk." You turn to walk away but suddenly, you're stopped in your tracks by a hand grabbing your wrist. Turning your head back, you see that Sunday is finally looking at you. You can see the pain in his eyes and by how his hand slightly shakes. Without saying anything, you turn your body to fully face him and open your arms wide, silently welcoming him into your arms.
He doesn't waste another second and wraps his arms around your waist, burying his head into your chest. Wrapping your arms around him, you feel his body slightly shaking as you hold him close. "It's okay Sunday. You don't need to hide from me. I won't judge you. Please, don't push me away. I'm here for you." You gently whisper as you stroke his hair. He doesn't speak, all that's heard is his deep, shaky breaths as he tries to control his emotions. It's taking all his willpower to not breakdown crying right there.
"Can you look at me darling?" He's hesitant, but eventually pulls his head away from your body without releasing his hold around your waist. He looks up at you. You notice the painful expression that graces his beautiful features. His golden eyes water as he tries to prevent the tears from falling. He hates showing weakness let alone looking weak in front of you. You cup his cheeks as you search his eyes, giving him a gentle smile. "It's okay to show weakness sometimes, my love. You're the strongest person I know and nothing will change the way I feel about you. I will always see you as the strongest, most caring leader and husband."
Without realizing, tears have begun to fall from Sunday's eyes as he listens to your reassuring words. Your thumbs move to wipe his tears. "I'm...I'm sorry...for pushing you away." He quietly says, his voice slightly cracking. "There's no reason to apologize, Sunday. I know you didn't mean to. I don't blame you." He feels guilty and embarrassed as he tries to move away so you don't see him cry, but you stop him. "It's okay to cry my love. Let it out if it'll help you feel better." He can feel the love through your words and the look you give him, causing more tears to fall. All you do is give him a comforting smile and continue to rub his wet cheeks as he lets his emotions out. You lean down and press a kiss to his left cheek. He gasps, surprised by your sudden action. You switch to his other cheek and continue to kiss his tears away. You leave one final kiss on his forehead and pull his face into your chest. "We can stay like this for as long as you want my angel." He buries his head further into you, wrapping his arms around your waist as you comfort him.
You can feel his body relaxing as he continues to bask in your comforting hold. "Thank you, my love. You are the true angel amongst us." You giggle and continue to hold him close for as long as he needs, occasionally giving him words of comfort and gently stroking his hair and back. You'll wait as long as it takes until he's ready to talk to you, but he understands now that he has you to catch him when he falls and he'll never push you away again.
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skyahri · 1 month
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Arranged Marriage |Zuko X Reader| HC
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Summary: Caught up in his personal conflict, Zuko completely neglects his marriage.
Warnings: Arranged marriage, forced marriage, whatever. Mentions of violence. Angsty Zuko and reader. Fem pronouns.
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You'd married Zuko a little over a year into his reign as Fire Lord. You're the oldest daughter from a noble family, and the council decided it was best if Zuko married someone well liked by the community.
He didn't take it well. He was still hoping Mai would come back to him, and you being there completely obliterated those chances.
Not that there was a shot to begin with. Mai had made it abundantly clear that she wanted nothing to do with Zuko, even if she admitted to still having feelings for him.
Your relationship was staged to be perfect in the eyes of the people. Young love against all odds sort of thing.
The marriage ceremony was beautiful. Your robes were elegant, the flowers were perfect, and even your soon-to-be husband was handsome.
Zuko was charming towards the guests, really selling the story and gaining a lot of trust with his people. He was awkward but personable, something everyone ate up.
But he wasn't like that with you.
As soon as the two of you were away from public eyes, he didn't so much as look your way.
You slept in different rooms and ate at opposite ends of the table. He excluded you from as many duties as he could, stating something about him not wanting to concern you.
Life in a palace was pretty isolating. The only people you could talk to were servants, and even then, your topics were extremely limited.
You'd taken to the gardens as much as possible. It felt nice to be outside and even better to see the plants and animals.
Tending to the flowers was one of the few things you were allowed to do without constant eyes on you. The lonely atmosphere felt intentional instead of forced.
But after a year of this, not even the newly budding flowers could heal your disdain. Your once bubbly exterior had been chipped away by the dread and disappointment that lingered in your heart.
You were truly just a shell of your former self by this point.
There was no change with Zuko. He'd made no effort to get to know you or even just not hate you. Any attempt you'd made in the beginning to soften the relationship had been put out the moment it left your lips. It seemed like public pleasantries would be the extent of your marriage.
You'd long given up on trying to befriend the older women who waited on you. They had no desire to be anything more than the people who got you through the day.
You'd given up on trying to sneak away with the kitchen staff to the market. They feared being held responsible for you, even if you claimed to be plenty capable of taking care of yourself.
All that was really left to do was to just stay quiet and look pretty. The sad fate of the Fire Lord's wife.
You'd been laying in bed all morning. It was one of the few days where nothing was planned. No meetings, no guests, no events- nothing.
Well, at least you thought.
"Miss Y/N, Lord Zuko has requested your presence. We must get you ready immediately."
They'd dragged you out of bed and stuffed you into a pair of your nicest robes. They're doing your hair up and rushing to cover your face in makeup.
"Why am I being summoned?"
"The Avatar and his friends have arrived. They were the ones to request you."
"I see."
It made sense. You had met the Gaang at your wedding, and they were everything you'd expected; kind, loud, and passionate. Just like Zuko was said to be.
At the time, they'd promised to come by often, but you hadn't seen them since. You'd heard something about the rebuilding of the air temple and having some unexpected issues arise, so they just hadn't had time until now.
You met Zuko at the front gates. His friends arrived just after, allowing the servants to take their things to their rooms. Without a word, Katara grabbed your arm and dragged you away with the other girls. You turned back to see the same happening with Zuko and the boys.
They pulled you all around the surrounding area. For the first time in a long time, the dread started to fade away.
You'd bought some new incense, hair pins, and seeds for the flower beds. They were small purchases in comparison to the others, who had gone all out with new clothes, trinkets, and a heap of spicy snacks for Sokka.
You'd suggested several times over the last few hours that it was time to head back to the palace, but only now that it was growing dark did the trio actually listen.
Just as you had begun packing up, a string of explosions started on the next block and made its way towards the plaza you were in.
Toph was quick to make a stone barrier, but that didn't stop the cloud of soot from staining your skin and clothes.
A group of men had emerged from the smoke and revealed themselves to be Ozai supporters. Not everyone was pleased with the fundamentals Zuko was running the country on, so rebels had started causing a bit of an uproar.
Katara, Toph, and Suki did their best to take the men down swiftly, but that didn't stop you from getting injured in the process.
Your forearms had been severely burned when you'd covered your face from an attack. Katara offered to heal you, but it'd have to wait until you got back to the palace where her spirit water was.
The trip back was uneventful. Some of the local guards stationed in the city had insisted on escorting you guys back, which at this point you couldn't deny.
Apparently, word had already gotten back to Fire Lord Zuko, who was waiting at the front doors of the palace for your arrival.
He immediately stepped forward and picked up your hand, letting the scorched fabric fall and reveal your burn. He did the same with the other and sighed.
"Please give us the room."
You watched as everyone filed out of the room, the guards towards the exit and your friends towards the south wing.
"These are severe,"
He cupped your face in his hands and tilted your head so he could get a good look. His thumb swiped over some of the soot on your face.
You were confused by his actions, but the pain from your burns created a bit of a blur in your mind, keeping you from thinking too hard about it.
"The others couldn't protect you?"
"They did what they could. I apologize for the hassle-"
"Why are you apologizing? None of this is your fault."
You opted to stay silent. You weren't sure what to say. This is the longest conversation you'd had in private since you'd met, and you were finding it hard to navigate.
It was silent for a minute. The vibe was awkward, and you desperately wanted to hide away from all of it.
His face contorted slightly, like he wanted to say something but couldn't. You didn't pry. It didn't feel like your place to ask.
"Why don't you head to your room for a bath, and I'll have Katara meet you in there once you're done."
You nodded and made your way down the corridor. You stripped down and opted to just toss your clothes in the trash. Between the ash and scorch marks, there was no saving anything.
The second the water touched your wounds, you winced. Tears pricked your eyes as you watched small bits of charred skin go down the drain. The pain quickly went from a sharp sting to almost mind-numbing. You sat down and let the water just run down your body while you waited for the brunt of the discomfort to pass.
In your hazy state of mind, you hadn't heard the knock on the door, so you were surprised when Zuko entered in much more casual clothing.
When he saw you hunched over on the shower floor, he didn't say anything. He moved to the side of the tub and went to touch you, but you weakly swatted his hands away.
"I'm not comfortable with you being in here whole I'm naked."
"I'm your husband-"
"You're a stranger."
Ouch. Harsh but fair, and he knew it.
"Look, I know I haven't been good to you over the past year, and I'm sorry. We can talk about it more when you're feeling better, but for now just let me take care of you."
Satisfied with his response, you stopped resisting his help. You let him wash your hair and scrub your skin. His touch was gentle despite how rough his hands were.
He never once made you feel uncomfortable. He was thourough but never lingered. It was almost as if this was a normal occurrence.
When he was done, he offered you a towel and left you alone in the bathroom to get dressed. When you entered your bedroom, Katara was on your bed, but Zuko was nowhere in sight.
"Just me. Sorry to disappoint."
"No, no. I'm glad you're here."
You sat in front of her on the bed and let her examine your burns. She positioned your arms for easy access and opened her canister. You watched the water glow and the skin slowly heal itself. It was amazing, nothing like anything youd seem before.
"So," she broke the silence, "Has he warmed up to you at all?"
You were surprised by her words. You weren't sure how much they knew or what all you should say. Last thing you wanted to do was incriminate him.
Sensing your hesitation to respond, Katara clarified her question.
"I know everything, at least, from his side. You can be honest with me."
"Honest?"
"Honest."
A small smile crept onto your face.
"I think you're friend is an ass."
"I couldn't agree more."
You told her everything; the loneliness, the isolation, the lack of, well, everything in your relationship and life. She listened, something you're eternally grateful for. It felt nice just to get it off your chest instead of suffering silently.
"Today was the greatest day I've had in a long time. I got to leave the palace and talk to people and for once it felt like my husband didn't hate me."
"Zuko doesn't hate you."
"Could've fooled me."
"He doesn't hate you. Just talk to him. I know he has a lot to say, and it seems you do as well."
Once your arms were healed good as new, Katara left your quarters and returned to her own. You'd crawled under the covers and passed out, completely exhausted from the day.
The next day, you took Katara's advice and decided to speak with Zuko. You woke up early, before the sun had risen and made your way to his room.
He was surprised to see you, much less in your nightwear at such an hour. He invited you in nonetheless, where you then entered and decided to sit on his bed. You patted the spot in front of you, and he hesitantly sat.
"Katara said we should talk."
"Okay."
Sensing that he wasn't going to be the one to initiate anything, you decided to get the ball rolling.
It was a long conversation. Zuko confessed a lot of things, mostly about bitter feelings towards life and guilt over his actions. He apologized for everything and listened to everything you had to say. He made a lot of promises to be better.
He stuck to his word. He began including you in anything you were welcome to. Dinners became more personal, and eventually, you started sleeping in his room like a proper married couple.
By the time team Avatar had visited again, things had visibly changed. You were both happier, and your once fake marriage had become real. You meshed into the group just fine, making the pseudo family that much bigger.
All thanks to a simple conversation.
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eskumii · 2 months
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❝ TROPHY WIFE ❞ — yandere!uzui tengen/wives + you're his first wife
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SYNOPSIS: suppose you're uzui tengen's very first wife, the one that slipped through the cracks of your unwanted arranged marriage with him. along with your disappearance went his heart, and now you must bear the consequences of a man who loves his wife far beyond her understanding—so much so that he would kill for her, die for her, and do anything to make her stay. — navi.
WORD COUNT: 5.7k
NOTES: mdni! (cw: non-con) this is an arranged/forced marriage au. it's meant to be one-sided. it took me quite literally forever to finish this lol ,,
PAIRING: yandere!uzui tengen x wife!reader
CHARACTERS: uzui tengen (19-23), reader (18-22), suma (19), makio (20), hinatsuru (21)
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I. TO BE WED
imagine being uzui tengen's very first wife.
your hand in marriage was promised to him by your parents, who owned a tax-collecting business that was often the target of hostility from the impoverished people of your hometown. tengen routinely passed through your village on demon slayer business, so your parents could always rest assured knowing he would take care of the violent stragglers that sometimes loitered outside.
ironically being poor themselves, they had little to offer the hashira as payment for his noble duties; well, that "little" didn't exclude you of course, their only daughter who's failed to find a husband far past the age of when other girls were normally wed. you're still young, fertile, and moderately attractive, but your strong disinterest in potential suitors often drove any chances of a wealthy marriage away.
however, after being introduced to tengen, the man you'll be forced to marry out of obligation, you begin to regret being so stubborn after all.
admittedly, tengen found you to be pretty plain at first. you're poor so you can't exactly dress flashy, and you come from a no-name family with little legacy. your parents swore up and down on your domestic efficiency—hardworking, great cook, a tame disposition—and, well, at least you're kind of cute, too. tengen is intrigued by your potential the most.
your parents force you to do whatever you can to get close to him. the truth is, though, you don't really have to do anything with the way he seeks you out himself. he often shows up at your door asking for you, and your parents have no qualms about dragging you out of your room to make you go out with him.
he takes you to the nicer parts of town and pays for dinner or buys you flowers and little trinkets from the shop vendors that line the streets. it doesn't help that the elderly people running the stands egg you on, saying things like "what a lovely young couple" or "your children would be so beautiful!" tengen simply smiles with ease, accepting their praise as if it's second nature. you get rather embarrassed by his shameless indulgence.
there's small talk but you find it incredibly stifling. tengen does a majority of the dialoguing but most of the time your dates get interrupted by his kasugai crow, who squawks at him whenever a demon shows up nearby. he always looks annoyed and promises to make it up to you, leaning down to pat your head like you're his pet dog or something. you hate it and him too, probably.
"i'll be back before you know it, darling," his smile is charming but not to you. "you'll stay right here for me, won't you?"
regardless of your somewhat obvious hesitance to accept his advances, tengen gets attached to you like it was meant to be. the idea of having a pretty little housewife for him to come home to after his draining missions becomes increasingly attractive, and the more time he spends with you, the more he sees the appeal of your being. it must be a miracle that no man has taken you as his wife yet; surely you were saving yourself for a man like him.
unfortunately, though, you don't want to marry tengen.
an arranged marriage? it's simply not the kind of life you envision for yourself. you aren't willing to bet the rest of your days on a man whom you have a slim chance of falling in love with, all for the sake of financial security. but what else can you do? your parents already made it very clear they would disown you if you refuse, and tengen is pressuring you to your death with his sweet words and annoyingly thoughtful presents. you're stuck.
eventually, the incessant nagging from your parents and weeks of endless courting from tengen sway you so sooner. you fold like a cheap hand fan and succumb to your fate, to a future you knew from the very beginning that you would come to despise.
he's the only suitor you have at this point. it's not like you have a choice. and the one choice you do have just so happens to be him, a man who is the nearest thing to a perfect match as you're ever gonna get. you should be happy. thankful. he'll give you the world if you just give him a chance.
at least, that's what he told you.
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II. THE SOUND HASHIRA
your parents are so happy to send you off.
they're completely honored that their letdown of an only daughter is finally getting married—to a well-known and wealthy shinobi at that. it's the only time they've shown any pride in you, yet it really only leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.
after your brief introduction to the head of tengen's clan, everything moves so quickly. just a couple weeks later, you're already signing a marriage contract in which you and tengen become official newlyweds. and before you know it, you're packing what little belongings you have to your name and moving in with him, begrudgingly and regretfully so.
the day you arrive, he shows you around his overwhelmingly gigantic residence; the courtyard full of cherry blossoms and koi ponds, the huge kitchen, and the bedroom where he'll eventually fully claim you. there's lots of other rooms too, but they're either empty or reserved for his weapons and training gear. he tries to hide it but he's obviously so over the moon that you're his wife now. he doesn't even notice your misery through his elated delusion of love.
in hindsight, you didn't realize how difficult it can be to share a space with someone you hardly know. you find everything awkward but tengen doesn't, like always. to him, you're so obedient and polite— such a good girl. you take whatever he gives you; kisses, hugs, subtle gropes here and there, and all of his sweet compliments and gifts. you don't argue with him or raise your voice, you fret over his injuries and make his favorite foods. you're observant, collected, and mature.
he didn't have a type before he met you—you're all he can ask for in a woman, really.
tengen is unexpectedly romantic. he constantly boasts about his strength and fighting skills in order to impress you, and he never stops mouthing off about how he'll prioritize you over himself. he puts consistent effort in getting to know you: what you like, don't like, your favorite color, and any other inkling of your personality that he can manage to wrestle out of you. he seems to have gotten the impression that you're shy or something.
flowers are a constant and you're spoiled with fancy, expensive kimonos and jewelry. had you married tengen under literally any other circumstance, you'd find his advances on you endearing but, unfortunately, he just comes off as clingy and unbearable. any woman would die to be in your place yet you can't even find it in you to want to be in your own place.
what do you think of him, though? well, he's handsome, you'll give him that. you don't deny the appeal of his good looks and flashy, fitted clothing. he's strong, established, and knows what he wants. despite your obvious distaste towards his gifts and grandiose personality, it's not to say you're ungrateful that the man you're stuck with is exceedingly well-off and capable of protecting you. you can't say he's a bad guy.
however, he's a moron.
he fell for you fast. a couple months have already passed since coming to live in his residence. tengen requests to have picnics whenever you go with him to visit his siblings' graves on his off days. of course you have no reason to refuse; as much as you dislike him, you're not heartless. they're important days, so you swallow your pride and pack a bento spread you know he'll like.
tengen will confide in you about the memories of his late siblings, his parents, and his life before becoming a hashira. it's a depressing and heavy weight to shoulder, but you still play your role of the loving, supportive wife with your lingering touches and comforting words. you use these outings as opportunities to gain his trust by being vulnerable.
except, this time, the effect you seem to have on tengen is magnified to the point of no return.
he pulls you into his lap and you're suddenly flush against his rock hard chest, trapped in a suffocating hug. you don't know what prompted his sudden affection; perhaps it was the warm atmosphere you crafted or the intimacy of the moment, but the way tengen holds you so close is telling. he's about to say something you've been dreading since the day you met him.
"i love you." tengen confesses, nuzzling his face into your neck and sighing as if he'd just released the weight of the world off of his shoulders.
you knew it. it's the first time he's ever said it to you and you'll never forget the wave of nausea that hit you as you glanced up to see him staring back at you expectantly. your heart is pumping out of your chest and your face is flustered—not because you're flattered but because you're ashamed. you feel his hands squeeze your shoulders, almost like a warning, and his grip begins to feel claustrophobic after your prolonged silence.
you have no choice but to reciprocate.
"...I love you too." your voice is quiet, hesitant, and tengen gently teases you about being shy when you refuse to look at him anymore. he's not right but it's true that lying invokes shame.
he almost seems overwhelmed by your response, as if he hadn't just nonverbally threatened it out of you. you don't dare to sneak even a glance at him. he tightens his embrace around you and goes back to burying his face abashedly into your neck, mumbling sweet words against your skin. his body wraps around you like a vice, trapping you in the prison that is his dreadful existence.
you decide, in that very moment, that there was nothing in the world you wanted to do more than run away.
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III. A DIRE MISTAKE
one fateful day, you catch wind of the news that tengen is being assigned on a mission quite far away, somewhere down in the southwest. 
you're so lucked out that you thought it was a trap at first—a ploy to catch you in your undying desire to leave your husband for good. but when the day of departure arrives and tengen peppers your face with last minute kisses, you know for sure that there's no chance he's caught on to your resentment towards him, nor the plan of escape you've been devising all along.
your eyes are teary when tengen releases you from the last of his spine-crushing hugs and he cooes at your cute crying face. honestly, you're tearing up out of joy because your one and only chance to escape has literally fallen into your lap in a pleated handbasket, but you'll let him believe otherwise. you at least owe him the courtesy. 
you already know you don't stand a chance against tengen, at least physically. he can overpower you like nothing and he's so tall that he towers over you, constantly caging you between those muscled arms of his. there's almost nothing you could do against a man like him—well, unless you count poisoning, but you were above murder when it came to getting what you wanted. 
as soon as tengen passes through the looming gates of the residence and disappears down the winding road, you scramble to gather a few belongings before making your way out through the back. there's a twinge of fear that grips your gut but you press on, determined to put as much space between you and that wretched place you were expected to call home. 
the moment you escaped, you flipped your identity. chopped your hair off, powdered your face in white make-up, and wore headscarves wherever you went. you fled as far as your feet would take you, only stopping to rest in a small village when your aching body could take you no further. you hardly spoke to anyone and left nothing behind that could possibly be traced back to you or be used to pursue you. 
it's obvious you can't go back to your parents; they hated you when you lived with them, and they'd hate you more if you returned. they'd sell you out to tengen in two seconds flat, then ruthlessly shame you for running away from a marriage you wanted no part in. the only option left for you is to create a new life for yourself somewhere far, far away. 
and that's exactly what you do. you find a little town on the outskirts of the red light district, where business is booming and it's easy to disguise yourself beneath the constant foot traffic. you go undercover as a seamstress, working in a homely tailor shop under the supervision of the owners, who are a kind older couple that are quick to regard of you as one of their own. 
time marches on and the jarring memories of tengen do as well. you makes friends with the regulars that come by the store often. you've learned the valuable trade of mending clothing and sewing traditional patterns. you've even developed a crush on one of the men that come by often to repair his work uniform.
your life is finally the way you've always wanted it to be. 
meanwhile, tengen copes—barely. days pass. weeks. months. you're still yet to be found, even with the help of all the hashira and the shinobi of his clan. it's as if you disappeared off the face of the planet. he's completely devastated. did you run away because he was gone for so long? were you feeling neglected? did you just want his attention? surely you wouldn't just up and leave when he'd been so loving; he truly couldn't think of anything that would prompt such an extreme reaction. 
as expected, he doesn't come up with a justification for your disappearance. how could he? you could be dead by now with the amount of demon uprisings that have been happening lately. or you could even be halfway across the world right now, laughing at how easily you had fooled him. eventually, his sadness melts into anger. you may be gone now, but it won't be for long. 
wherever you are, he'll find you. 
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IV. 'TIL DEATH DO HIM PART
in the following years, tengen's next three wives are chosen specifically by the head of his clan.
and, in the head of the clan's words: "the sound hashira's decision-making must be incredibly poor if he chose a wife who would dare flee from him." the statement only fans the flames of his growing wrath for you. 
however, his new wives—suma, makio, and hinatsuru—are all beautiful and talented kunoichi who admire him to their very cores. as ungrateful as it sounds, there isn't a day where tengen wishes one of them were you. they've worked so hard to try and fill the gaping hole in his existence that was left by you, but it hasn't really been working. he needs you.
they're kind, caring, nurturing and most of all, strong. they've trained all their lives to be kunoichi. he knows he shouldn't complain but they just don't cook like you, look like you... aren't you. of course he loves them, but he could never forget the way his heart shattered the day he returned home to find you nowhere in sight. your disappearance left him in utter shambles. did you ever think about that when you left? you're so unbelievably selfish—is that the kind of woman you turned out to be? 
his wives constantly question his lovesick behavior. tengen never hides anything from them; in fact, he'll sometimes go on long, borderline maniacal rambles about "the wife who got away." to suma, makio, and hinatsuru, you're an enigma that's broken the heart of their husband, and they're not sure what it was about you that makes him act this way. jealousy sparks—if there's a way to get you back to make tengen happy, they would do it, but maybe you're better off gone after all. 
and it's not like tengen didn't search for you. oh no, he looked everywhere within reason. his duties as a hashira kept him chained to his missions near the demon slayers' headquarters, but that never stopped him from interrogating people when he got the chance. any woman that looked even remotely similar to you was sure to be stopped in the middle of the street for further investigation. 
master kagaya is exceedingly understanding of the situation, and he bears obvious concern for his beloved sound hashira. while he's sympathetic of the loss of his wife—it's no matter to be taken lightly, of course—tengen must first be loyal to his occupation as a hashira, and that means going on missions in spite of his mourning. 
and his newest missions leads him to the red light district. 
so tengen goes. he knows his place when it comes to master kagaya, so he has no reason or authority to deny orders. regardless, it's a harrowing and tedious task. drunk concubines practically throw themselves into tengen's arms as he strolls past the many underground sex clubs that line the filthy streets. he has zero interest in any of the debauchery that goes on here, and he especially feels nothing when shoving them away from him with excessive force. 
he scours the area for anyplace that looks decent enough to step foot in, as well as a place where he won't get immediately harassed by ran through harlots. turning down a quieter side street where some storefronts have been shuttered, he happens upon a small seamstress shop sandwiched between two restaurants that look as if they've closed early for the evening. 
shrugging, tengen wearily thinks it's as good of a place as any to begin his intel gathering on the upper moons' whereabouts. he saunters towards the front entrance and a young woman dressed in traditional geisha wear passes him on the sparsely populated road, her wooden sandals clacking against the ground. he can't help but think her hair looked similar to yours and his heart twists painfully in his chest. 
tengen seems to be constantly haunted by the thought of you, forming an obsession in his mind that won't go away until he has you back. until he knows your safe, with him, just like you were meant to be. until he sees you. 
no, literally, tengen sees you, right in front of him. 
through the window of the upscale seamstress shop, he sees you conversing with a man at the front counter, laughing heartily at a joke he must have made. tengen quickly crouches beneath the display window to spy on you, his heart pounding out of his chest at the events that are currently unfolding. he must be mistaken. 
he peeks above the lip of the window to catch a glance and, sure enough, it is you. you're alive and well, almost glowing beneath the low, intimate lighting inside the shop. 
he finally found you! he can't believe it. the grin that's stretching across his face is so broad. he'd recognize your face anywhere, even if it's caked in geisha makeup and your hair elaborately styled. you’re beautiful and he’s captivated by your beauty just as he was the day that he met you. 
he's so unbelievably ecstatic with the way his hands are clamming up, his feet shuffling in the dirt and... 
what?
creeping over the ledge of the display window once again, tengen's eyes immediately grow dark. there's a man there. talking to you. his wife. 
in the midst of your conversation, your eyes absently float over to the window. it's there that your gaze clashes with his, and a blood-curdling look of terror overtakes your features. is that… tengen? 
there's a shift in the air. what happens next, tengen doesn't recall, but when he comes to there's blood on his hands and your hair is bundled up in his fist as he drags you past the threshold the of the shop’s entrance. he looks over his shoulder and on the floor, spread eagle, lies the man without his head. the scene is gruesome.
he killed him. 
tengen looks down at you with a solemn gaze. for some reason, he doesn't even care. the emotions running through him are almost too much to bear. do you know how much your disappearance has destroyed him? do you know how much he's suffered because of you? do you even care? 
he doesn't understand why you're crying. it seems like you were happy enough to whore around with other men in his absence. the thought drives him to the brink of insanity. how much longer do you plan on humiliating him? 
there's too much to be said. tengen's mouth is agape and he's so upset at you that he can't find the right words to express himself. instead, he collapses to the floor beside you and embraces you in his longing arms. he smells your hair and feels how your body shrinks against his—it's all exactly how it used to be. it's exactly as he remembered, as he dreamed of. 
and now, as tengen scoops you up into his arms to take you back home, another dream of his will be fulfilled tonight. he knows exactly what kind of punishment is befit for you. 
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V. A JUST PUNISHMENT — (NSFW: NON-CON)
"tengen-sama! you're ba-" 
a woman with colored bangs and a ponytail attempts to greet tengen as he enters, but she's cut off by not only the expression on his face but also the strange, disheveled woman he's hauling behind him. 
he drags you across the cold, laminated wood floors into the bedroom by your hair and peels the delicate, silken layers of your yukata back, exposing soft flesh and ample curves. tengen is so starved of your touch—of your voice, your scent, you. he'll make you pay for what you put him through. he'll make you stay this time. 
you can't even fight back. you're so afraid of what's going to happen that your body refuses to move, to speak. and even if you could, there was no way you would win against a hashira, of all people. 
tengen starts by pushing you to your knees. when his hands begin the hasty work of undoing the belt of his kimono, you already know where this is going and it makes your stomach churn in volatile sickness. he eagerly slides his under pants down and from the top of its elastic band springs his semi-hard cock, which nearly hits you in the face. you gasp at the sheer size of it; that is not gonna fit inside of you.
"don't look at me like that, [name]. clearly i was too lenient with you back then. i should've disciplined you..." he trails off as he stares into your pleading eyes. he smiles but, in it, is no mercy.
"c'mon, baby. you'll be a good girl and open your mouth for me, won't you?" 
you refuse. no, you wouldn't even dream of it. you've never done anything sexual with a man before and you certainly aren't going to wi—
tengen suddenly reaches down and grabs ahold of your now tangled hair with one of his large hands. it takes barely any pressure before your mouth is pried open by the force of his fingers alone, and his now engorged cock head is being stuffed into your warm, unyielding mouth. 
you can only let out a choked cry at the vile intrusion. 
"that's it, baby, good girl.." he praises, stroking your head with his thumb as he slowly inches his pulsing cock down your throat. 
your screams are completely muffled. tengen begins to pick up the pace, letting your drool be the lubricant that allows his giant dick to slide in and out of your tight throat. it hurts so bad that you try to bite down and free yourself from this act of vulgarity, but tengen doesn't allow it. he instead tugs your head back by the grip he has on your hair, forces his cock all the way in, and holds you there until you decide to behave yourself. 
you can hardly breath. lewd, wet noises fill the room as tengen gags you almost to the point of unconsciousness. the vibrations from your screaming must have been making him feel good, though, because it takes just a few minutes before he's shuddering in orgasm as he bottoms out and cums, which you have no choice but to swallow. 
he pulls out of your mouth and you're mortified, but even more so when you see how he's still hard. his cock is covered in a thick layer of your saliva and his cum drips onto your exposed chest in globs that make you cringe in disgust. you think you're going to throw up. 
and you almost do, if it weren't for tengen picking you up from under your arms and tossing you onto the plush bedding. your legs are forced open and tengen slides his twitching cock against your pussy, slowly and teasingly. you begin to fight against him but he easily pins you down long enough to push his fat cock head into your tight pussy. 
tengen pounds you into the plush cushion of the futon all night long. you've given up struggling and crying, only mewling in pain as the brutish man stretches your virgin pussy wide. he ruthlessly kneads your breasts with his calloused palms and overstimulates your clit with his fingers until you cream and squirt repeatedly all over his dick. you can do nothing but lay there as he roughly moves your body into various positions and fills your womb with his seed—there's no way you won't be pregnant after this. 
all the pent up rage that tengen was forced to weather after your disappearance is released in that very room. he sounds like a crazy man with the way he lapses in and out of fits of rage where he's cursing at you with his hands around your throat, then slipping into pleasure induced "i love you's" as he dumps yet another load of cum deep inside of you. 
"h-how does it feel, my love?" he groans, reaching over to caress your flushed face. "mm, you sound so cute making those noises. lemme hear you scream, darling."
and oh, you sure do scream. for him to stop, to get off of you. that you've had enough. that you hate him. over and over again you scream, you cry, and you struggle, but it does you no good. he only seems to thrust faster the more you beg. is he getting off to your desperation? he must be by the way his cock pulses at any form of physical resistance from you. 
you thought it would never end. he's almost insatiable. your tears have long dried up—for the most part, anyway—but the skin on your face feels raw from tengen "lovingly" wiping all your tears and snot away while simultaneously pounding a you-shaped hole into the futon. you feel disgusting. you don't even have the strength to make a sound when he spanks you for the hundredth time, moaning heatedly about how you've been such a bad, bad girl. 
when it seems like he's finally spent, he doesn't pull out. instead, he collapses on top of you with his cock still twitching inside your sloppy, ruined cunt while drawing you in for an unreciprocated kiss. he whispers praises in your ear and gently strokes your face, cooing at how much you're trembling against his much larger form. 
"i should've done this a long time ago. maybe you wouldn't have left if i dumped my kids into you sooner." 
eventually, his softened cock slips out of you and a gush of warmth runs down your legs; you can already feel a soreness settling in your pelvis. tengen sighs contentedly at the sopping squelch that sounds when you snap your legs shut in order to roll as far away from him as possible. he roughly wraps a muscled arm around your waist and pulls you back towards him as soon as he sees your attempt to create distance. 
"i missed you so much, darling," tengen mumbles against your skin breathily, offering a soft smile. "did you enjoy your welcome back?" 
he's making fun of you. you refuse to even look at him. it's to be expected, really, he can't imagine how bad it must feel to think you actually got away from him as you lay in his arms once again, right where you belong. you need to learn your place; no wife of his will disrespect him like you did ever again. if you have to be an example of that, then so be it—youput this on yourself, after all. 
leaving you with a final kiss, he gets up, wraps a towel around his waist, and goes to let his other wives into the room to help clean you up (they've been waiting patiently ever since you showed up, curious about the woman who supposedly "stole tengen's heart," as he put it). you're still naked and exposed with tengen's cum leaking down your thighs but you don't even have the mental capacity to care anymore. all three of the girls look shocked at the state you're in, but they don't comment and rush to get you in the bath. 
they're all very pretty, of course. when you emerge from your haze of disorientation, you're left reeling at the fact that tengen had amassed three whole wives in light of your absence. well, not that you have any right to be surprised considering your short lived emotional affair. you're still in mourning over what had happened to him. 
regardless of your fragile state, the three women swarm you with questions that prod at your past: who you are, where you're from, and how you met tengen. you don't even have half the mind to reply. you can only stare at your tear-stricken reflection in the soapy water, ready to burst into tears yet again at the horrible predicament you've found yourself in. 
what can you do now? sit around and get bred by tengen? rot away in this dreadful house for the rest of your life? the other wives seem to catch onto your unresponsiveness after a couple dozen of their questions go ignored, so they sit quietly and gently wash you clean. they look genuinely worried for you—not that their pity will undo the damage that's already been done. 
makio will scrub your back and grumble about how jealous she is while suma and hinatsuru fret over the small bruises that are now beginning to form around your hips from tengen's manhandling. suma washes your hair next, commenting on how beautiful it is, while the other two move onto rinsing the soap from your body. they wrap you up in a fluffy towel when it's over, and a shiver wracks your spine when their hands guide you to another room, down the hall, with a clean bed ready for you to rest in. 
you don't really know who they are but since they're dressed like kunoichi, it's obvious that they don't share the same mindset you do, or were forced to be wed to tengen like you were. you can't ask them to help you escape from this hell, not a chance. 
even as you lay in the criminally comfortable futon with new silken pajamas, a cup of cold water at your side, and a warm blanket, sleep doesn't find you. 
and with tengen around, you're certain it never will. 
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VI. A HAPPY EVER AFTER (EXTRA)
a few months later, your pregnancy symptoms are in full swing.
tengen is as protective as ever and the other wives have already grown attached to you despite your bitter and unforgiving attitude towards them. you learn quickly that they're all very... obsessive, constantly hovering over you and going to overbearing extremes to make sure you don't do anything that would physically strain yourself in any way.
hinatsuru and makio follow at your heels like guard dogs while suma takes charge of most of the cooking and cleaning. she keeps the peace most of the time and holds makio back when she's attempting to murder hinatsuru over something childish. you're never in the mood to talk to them, however, and they often try to bribe you with your favorite sweets (which is intel that they've gathered from tengen) in order to get you to participate in their activities.
unluckily for you, tengen had decided to completely retire from being a hashira following a particularily harrowing encounter with an upper moon demon (even after you tried to subtly guilt trip him into not doing so). he insisted that you and the baby were "more important." you know that it'd be difficult to escape with the other wives around but to add tengen on top of that makes it surely impossible. 
every morning, the dreadful man himself meets the four of you in the kitchen and will beam proudly at the sight of his adorable little harem. he goes down the line and gives affection to each of his wives individually, in the way they prefer, and saves you for last as you're his "greatest prize," or whatever he said. you're just completely exhausted and you resent them all from the deepest depths of your heart. the least you can do is make it obvious. 
tengen finds your rebellion adorable. everything about you is and even moreso now than when you left him all those years ago. he'll grab you by the jaw and force you into a quick one-sided kiss, pulling away with that fond smile of his. his fingers ghost over your swelling tummy but his very touch makes you feel so awfully sick. you'll roughly push him away and he's so out of his mind that he attributes your justified anger and moodiness to your "pregnancy hormones." regardless, he's happy. it's you who's going to bear his child. it's you who first said you loved him too. as long as you live, you're bound to him as his wife. nothing can come between a man and the woman he loves; uzui tengen certainly made sure of that, didn't he?
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jiniret-writings · 8 months
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Warm Blankets Pt. 2
Genre: angst, fluff
Pairing: Platonic!ot8 x 9th member!reader
Warnings: self-doubt, feelings of worthlessness
The actions of the members in this story do not represent how they are in real life. This is all fictional and should not be taken seriously.
Pt. 1 || Pt. 2 || Pt. 3
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After buying snacks (and your favorite drink because crying really does numbers on your hydration), you headed back to your dorm and the minute you opened the door, you were met with quite the scene. The entire place looked like a scene from Alice in Wonderland: chaos in the kitchen, chaos in the living room, and something sounded like it crashed in the bathroom, but over it all, the dorm smelled delicious.
When you two walked deeper into the dorm, Minho was the first to look up from what looked like beating eggs. "Hungry?" he asked, pouring the egg mixture onto the pan. Truth was, you were starving. You'd skipped breakfast that day because of an early vocal lesson. Your stomach rumbled low enough for Hyunjin to hear who laughed lightly.
"I think we both are," he said, nudging you in more. Then, like a switch flipped, Hyunjin whined, "Hyuuuuuung! When will it be readyyyyy?" He flopped onto the island seat and laid his head on the counter, watching Minho cook. Minho glared at his younger member, picking up the spatula.
"When you're done cooking in the air fryer," he said in a monotone voice, flashing a Cheshire smile before dropping it and going back to the eggs. You laughed at them, sitting next to Hyunjin and across from Felix. Chan's words still circled your head.
It felt heavy, your head and your heart burdened with the hit of his words and the weight of your thoughts. It had been five years since Stray Kids debuted, yet the whispers never stopped. Comments circled online every month or so about whether you really fit into the group:
I don't know, it's just that the group might thrive more if it weren't for them.
Have you seen the new talker? See how they're off to the side most of the time? They're definitely going to leave the group soon.
I trust Chan and all but I don't know if he was right about them.
It was normal to get hate as an idol but maybe, just maybe, they were right? Hyunjin had reassured you that you were wanted and he was just saying whatever came to mind in his stressed state but, but maybe there were some truth to his words.
As thoughts raced through your head, you stared blankly at the counter. The boys around you looked at you worriedly, giving Hyunjin a look with one question: what happened? He hadn't told them why you had a bad day or what was wrong, but they still rallied to give you warmth and comfort. But you were worrying them. They just wanted the best for you and to do whatever it took to cheer you up.
Wanting to pull you from your thoughts as soon as possible, Hyunjin texted them the short version:
Chan-hyung said he shouldn't have fought for them to be in the group. 2RACHA are on placating duty.
With that sent, Hyunjin put his arm around you to not scare you, but the second you snapped out of your personal trance, Felix ran at you and tackled you to the ground. The little attack came as a surprise to everyone around, leaving them all frozen. The only sound being Felix's "lixie" sounds.
You were shocked as well, arms coming around the slightly older boy on instinct, but eyes still wide. "Felix?!? What was that?!?"
"I love you," he said, digging his face into your neck, causing you to hold in slight laughter because of how much it tickled.
"I love you too but what's this?" you asked, gesturing to the fact that the two of you were still on the floor. At that, he looked down at you, small pout forming.
"My love, y/n/n. Accept it," he said, leaving no room to argue. And in a flash, he stood up, pulling you up with him, and pointed to the pan he was working on with a big smile. "Look! I made brownies, cookies, and a cheesecake! Help me decorate?"
You wanted to refuse, to slip away to your bedroom to lie down and think--no matter how much of a bad idea that was--but the way he was looking at you like you were the sun, how could you not agree? Nodding your head, you walked behind the counter to where Felix was just starting to put on a final layer of frosting on the chilled cake. At that moment, Jeongin and Seungmin strolled. Seungmin sat in the seat you left and Jeongin came up next to you, putting an arm on your shoulder.
"I wanna help too! How do you want to decorate it?" he asked, pointing the question at you. You thought about it and your mind drifted to a movie you had watched recently.
"Lets do it Alice in Wonderland themed?" you asked, unsure if it was a bad idea. The voices around you did well ot drown out your thoughts but they'd pop up every now and again with a new sort of vigor. But with no hesitation, Jeongin just smiled and nodded. Felix brought out red and black food coloring, and started mixing it into different bowls of frosting. At that moment, Minho walked to you with a pair of chopsticks holding a piece of meat. He just brought it to your face and you opened your mouth without a second thought. It was like second nature: if one of your members was feeding you then it must be good.
Your members
The thought brought a feeling of warmth in your chest. Suddenly, tears filled your eyes. You looked away, trying to get them back under control. You shook away the ones that came up, but the warm tightness in your chest refused to let go. You excused yourself to go to the bathroom and once inside, sat on the edge of the bath tub, letting the tears flow.
My members, you thought, letting the tears flow freely.
Back at the kitchen, everyone looked at each other, more worried than before.
"How bad?" Seungmin asked, turning fully to face Hyunjin. He just shook his head, remembering the fight he walked in on.
"Really bad. He was yelling and they were yelling and he suddenly just yelled it out. I grabbed them and took them out right after," he said, looking at all the boys. They shook their head, knowing what it was like when they poked the too-still bear.
"How is he?" Jeongin asked, knowing how this went. Chan cared about all of you, more than he could put into words. Jeongin knew it would only be a matter of time until the eldest realized what he said and started spiraling himself.
"I don't know. The others haven't texted but they're probably just keeping him occupied with work like he wants to be."
Seungmin looked towards the bathroom door, then to the pile of blankets laid out on the living room floor. The table in front of the TV had a cute pink table cloth over it so they could bring all the food out there to eat and watch your favorite show and movies. "Is the food almost done?" he asked, looking at Minho. He nodded and took the lid off of a nearby pot, giving it a final stir.
"Its all done. Just need to plate it and bring it to the table," he said. Jeongin took out the plates from the cabinet behind him and spread them out to make plating easier. Minho thanked the youngest by ruffling his hair and got to plating. Felix and Hyunjin in the meantime were trying to finish up the cake. Felix had just finished doing a slightly lopsided, but still made with love, checkerboard pattern and now Hyunjin was...it was hard to tell if that was Alice or the Cheshire cat, but either way, it was very "Wonderland".
When you walked out of the bathroom, having checked your eyes one last time to make sure they weren't red, you walked straight into Seungmin's back. When he turned around, he just smiled and put an arm around your shoulder, guiding you to the mess of blankets.
"What movie should we watch first?" he asked, sitting you down front and center. The boys were each bringing out plates of delicious food and your stomach growled again, much louder this time. You blushed slightly, looking down. Seungmin just laughed and handed you the remote.
"What type of movie?" you asked Seungmin.
"Whatever you want. We're happy with anything," he shrugged, leaning back against one of the pillow piles. With the food finally set, Minho sat behind you, patting your head lightly. You leaned into his hands, which then started massaging your head. The other boys came around too, Felix sitting on your other side and Jeongin and Hyunjin sitting on either side of Minho on the couch.
Felix grabbed one of the blankets from behind you and draped it across your back so it was hugging you. He then started passing around the plates of food to everyone as you finalized a movie.
With everyone snuggled in, you watched the movie and ate happily, laughing with your members as they recreated scenes, repeated funny lines, and made comments throughout the entire movie. Finishing your food, you put the plate back on the table, passing Minho’s and Jeongin’s plates onto the table as well, before putting your head on Felix’s shoulder and snuggling close.
Felix smiled down at you, grabbing a duck plushie and putting him gently into your arms. You looked from the stuffed duck to Felix and back to the duck. You smiled at it and gave it a squeeze.
You suddenly felt a small pressure on your hand and turned to see Seungmin had scooted closer to you and put his hand on top of yours. He gave your hand a squeeze and gave you a small smile before turning back to the TV.
Now feeling someone pat your head, you looked up and saw Minho patting it softly. Next to him, Jeongin was looking through a bag of clips you hadn't seen before and was picking out all the clips in your favorite color. You looked forward again and the tears were building up again. You held them back as much as you could when suddenly, Hyunjin huffed from above.
Before you could ask what happened, the tall boy made his way in font of you, Seungmin, and Felix and just flopped on all three of you. You all groaned at the sudden weight, moving every way to avoid getting his by his arms and legs as he found a position that wasn't extremely uncomfortable. Once settled, he looked at you with a cheeky smile, that then turned into a soft one. He brought his hands to your face and wiped the few tears that had escaped. He didn't say anything further, just patting your cheek and turning back.
Everything was calm now, the second movie now playing. You felt warm, both outside and inside. You always believed actions spoke louder than words, and the way the members all cared for you and spent time with you, how could you not feel welcomed? This was your family. Now, this was part of your family. You still had three members that you know care for you too.
Chan's words still hurt and you weren't just going to blindly forgive him, but he was still part of this big and crazy family you found when you found them years ago.
"We're never letting you go, I hope you know that," Seungmin muttered next to you, now holding your arm. Felix and Jeongin nodded, Felix placing a small kiss on your wet cheek.
"Never. It doesn't matter what people online say or what's said in the heat of an argument. We're never letting go," Jeongin said, squeezing your shoulder for good measure.
"The big bad wolf was extra grouchy today, which means everything out of his mouth was a big bad lie," Minho said, kissing the top of your head.
"If he's the big bad wolf, who is little red riding hood?" Hyunjin asked, turning his entire body--eliciting a groan from you, Felix, and Seungmin--and looking at Minho.
Without missing a beat, he looked at Hyunjin and said, "You are, you're going to get eaten soon."
"Do I taste good?"
"Go into the kitchen and find out," Minho said, standing up and going to grab Hyunjin, but he was quick. He got off of you three and ran to the kitchen, and he and Minho had a mini chase around the kitchen island. You laughed at their chase, moved by the kind words and the usual shenanigans of the members.
Jeongin came down in front of you and laid his head on your lap, looking up. "You're a important part of our group, y/n/n. We all love you here." You smiled at the youngest and wiped the last tears before they could escape. The lull of the TV, the comforting sounds of chaos from the kitchen, and the warmth from the members around you made you feel safe, and stopping yourself from fighting it off, you fell into a comfortable sleep, the negative thoughts nowhere to be found.
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Here's the second part! I am genuinely so thankful for everyone who has read and liked part 1. I didn't even think it would get as much attention as it did! I finished part 2 early so I figured I would upload it a bit early!
I'm in the process of writing part 3, but I hope to get it done soon! Part 3 will have a happy ending, so I hope you enjoy that when it comes out as well! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated. And as always, have a great morning, afternoon, evening, and night!
-Jini
Divider made by: @cafekitsune
Taglist: @neyangi
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nohoney · 18 days
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pt 2 for this dragon king! bakugou blurb
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the bride that bakugou had stolen becomes his concubine, having you whenever and wherever it pleases him. he could summon you to his chambers at night and you were to go to him. if he finds you in the garden and wants to fuck you in the grass, you weren’t allowed to deny him. he beckons for you, you obey.
and you do so with enthusiasm, never denying your king as he takes whatever position he wants to fuck you in.
bakugou doesn’t care much for your affection and adoration, only really finding it useful that he has an easy hole to fuck whenever he wants to seek out some relief. it doesn’t even matter to him when you thank him for when you cum during frenzied and unloving coitus. all that matters is that he fulfills his own satisfaction and he does not owe you any scrap of tenderness.
his coldness does not cool the warming affection that you so clearly have for him.
no matter the degrading names he growls at you when he has you pinned to his bed, the rough handling of your hair when he fucks his cock into your mouth, he hadn’t even preserved your decency when others would occasionally stumble upon you when you were with the king—no matter the lack of courtesy he hardly gave you, you never once showed any resentment to his treatment.
if anything, you were always grateful.
it truly shows how much you must have dreaded and hated the man who would have been your husband had bakugou not come on your wedding day to slaughter every person on sight.
there was never any complaint from you, not when bakugou pushed you away once he was done, not when he looked at you sometimes in bewilderment when you gave him lovesick eyes, and certainly not when he allowed the rare times of you sleeping in his bed so that he could fuck you again later instead of summoning you again.
he never gave any thought to you being more than a warm body for him to use. it was his right as king after all, to determine your worth and what value you were to him.
but there’s day he’s cut with a poison knife while he was out in battle, writhing sick in his bed and sometimes screaming from the agony from the burning wound. he was tended to in all areas needed, everyone fearing for the health of their king and praying to the gods to expel the poison from his body and to leave their king in health.
bakugou was bedridden for more than a fortnight before he was finally feeling some semblance of relief. the cut had left a scar on his body but his health had proved stronger. still, he was advised to carry himself carefully for the next few weeks.
“that girl you picked up, the bride, you know she almost tried to kill herself?” kirishima told him one day when they were in the caves to look over the new hatch of dragon eggs. bakugou eyes him from the side and says nothing, but he’s curious to know why you were trying to harm yourself. “she thought you were going to die. kept on saying that if you were no longer on this realm then there was no point of her existence as well.”
bakugou makes no comment, only quietly nodded his head and picked up a green dragon egg, still slimy from being expelled quite recently.
later that night, you’re summoned to his chambers, resuming your duties and riding on top of him. it’s a relief to know that he is alive, to feel that he is well enough to have his desires taken care of, that he still lives on and that death tried so hard to take his soul but had been unsuccessful. your moans are soft as you move your hips, grinding deeply as you fully sit on his cock and feel the tip press into that weakening spot that has your eyes fluttering.
“oh! oh gods…!” you groan as you move up and down on bakugou’s cock, bouncing on top of him and bring him to the plane of pleasure that he seems to have entrusted you to at this point. it was the only thing he seemed to assign you to and you were nothing but grateful to have this role.
you’ve never bothered to announce when you could feel an orgasm rising up in you, bakugou doesn’t fuck for your pleasure after all; only his own. it’s rising up though, making you dizzy with pleasure and has you riding harder, the wet little squishes and splashes from where you are connected to your king making you so happy. because when you’re cumming this much, he’s not that much farther behind you. and you want to make him cum, you want your king to cum, just about to hop off so that you can finish him off with your mouth—such as the routine.
instead you’re surprised when his hands grab at your hips, lifting you off his cock. it slaps against his stomach, shining wet from what you can see from the candlelight and you’re confused why he had taken you off of him. had he been unsatisfied? perhaps he was in pain and he couldn’t finish?
“c’mere, up here.” he mumbles and directing you with a nod.
you hesitate at first, unsure what he meant for you to do. “my king?”
“want to taste you.”
it’s a first he’s ever said to you. in the entirety of you belonging to him since he had stolen you from your wedding day, bakugou had never bothered about your pleasure. he only acted in ways that delighted him—choking you, striking your rear as he fucked you from behind, even occasionally pushing a single thick finger into your asshole. you had never asked him to service you in anyway, you would never dream of making such a request.
but you hesitantly obey, hovering over him and yelping when bakhgou’s strong hands force you onto his face. his mouth messily licks at your cunt and it shocks you how good it feels, gasping up at the high ceiling of his room and throwing your head back. your hips move of their own accord, grinding against his mouth and his chin is slick from his saliva and your juices dripping from the pleasure.
an orgasm is rising up again, less intense than when you’re getting fucked but you recognize it getting ready to burst. you dare to grab onto his ashy, blond hair for stability. a drawn out, pitched moan is sung up to the ceilings as you cum. your body tenses and shakes, seeing stars litter your vision and you almost fall back but manage to catch yourself.
you try to catch your breath, blinking and keeping in your small little moans. and then you look down at bakugou, almost startled to see him just as overwhelmed as you. the flush on his face is something you had never seen before but you choose to make no comment. you slowly move off of him, still needing to do your duty and making sure that he’s satisfied but you find that he’s already done it himself.
his hand was on his cock, now starting to soften, and he had spilled his seed onto his stomach.
“clean me up.” bakugou orders gruffly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. you find your discarded dress on the floor and use it to wipe down his stomach and cock. you start to get ready to put the dress on so that you can return to your chambers but you’re given another order, “put that down and stay here.”
you’re obedient, letting the dress drop back onto the floor and laying back into the bed. the softness of it feels good against your back and it’s warm thanks to the heat of bakugou’s body. in the dim candlelight, you can see the scar of the cut that almost killed him. it makes you emotional almost, the anxiety and despair that had almost swallowed you whole had he not survived.
you chance moving yourself closer to him, closer to your savior, leaving the smallest gap that you feel would not offend him. “rest well, my king.”
bakugou grunts in acknowledgment, his eyes shutting and listening to your breaths become even as you drift to sleep first.
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whispersoftheton · 11 months
Note
Hello!
Do you think you could write an anthony x reader angst turned fluff/smut fic?
They’ve married out of duty but both have feelings for each other they refuse to admit
Hi! This is also my first fic for this fandom and I got kind of carried away with it, hope you don't mind :) Thank you for requesting btw <3
dont worry the next request i post will have smut in it and im posting that one this weekend >:)
Anthony Bridgerton x F!Reader
Warnings: reader and Anthony are married, pining, death of parents (reader), angst, kissing, fluff at the end
Word Count: 2.4K
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The day dawned crisp and clear, sunlight peering through the flowing curtains and illuminating your path along the long hallway of your lavish home. The sounds of maids bustling through the estate and the gravel crackling beneath the horse's hoofs from outside filled your ears. Your mind raced with the many tasks at hand for today as you straightened out your dress. The last ball of the season was a significant one indeed, and you had the honor of hosting it tonight. The last few days were filled with overseeing that every detail of the evening, no matter how small, was managed and executed perfectly. 
As the maids fetched accessories and floral arrangements for you to approve ahead of the festivities, you pondered how your life had drastically changed. A mere three months had passed since your wedding day. Still, it seemed a lifetime ago. You had every reason to be happy, you had married well, living more than comfortably, and your husband was not unkind towards you like others you've heard about. But your marriage to the viscount wasn't exactly the love story of the century, to say the least. 
After the passing of both your parents, Lady Danbury had taken you in as one of her own. Raised you to be a lady of society in every way she saw fit and even sponsored your coming out last season. The very same season, the Queen appointed you as her diamond. Not long after, none other than Anthony Bridgerton set his sights on you, surpassing any honorable suitor that even thought about appearing at your doorstep. The entire courtship, along with the proposal, felt purely transactional. Anthony berated you with questions, encounters feeling more like interviews than any courting you were used to. It was not as if you were not attracted to the man if you were being entirely honest with yourself; you'd spent the better half of your time bottling up whatever it is that blossoms in your chest when he is near. And you hated yourself for it. For feeling something you couldn't even name for a man who treated as nothing more than an object. Every public outing where he was caring towards you, even kind and every bit of charming you could ever hope for, raised your hopes high only to see them crashing down at the indifference towards you the moment you were alone without the peering eyes of the ton on you.
Your wedding and honeymoon came and went in a blur. Not even able to consummate the marriage properly due to an argument that left you both enraged and unable to look each other in the eye in the days that followed. The following months were a string of simple greetings in passing and only speaking to one another when absolutely necessary. The empty house you now lived in was becoming your own personal void without so much as the company of your supposed husband.
"Viscountess Bridgerton, are you alright?" Your maid questioned as you snapped out of your haze and directed your attention back to the bouquets before you.
"Yes, this one will be lovely for tonight, thank you." You made your final decision as Anthony strolled into the room. Your maids quickly making themselves sparse, leaving the two of you alone.
"My family should be arriving any second; I assume everything for tonight is in order, is it not?" The underlying sarcasm and questioning of your ability as the lady of the house crawled right under your skin, any lingering feelings you had been contemplating only a moment ago for the Viscount gone in an instant at his distasteful manner.
"Yes, Lord Bridgerton." You replied dryly.
"Dear, we are married and have been for some time now. I would very much like it if I did not have to tell you to address me by my first name while we are in our home." You audibly scoffed at his command while standing from your seat.
"And I would very much like it if my husband would not treat me as though I do not exist." You snapped. Anthony's jaw clenched as he tensed before you. "Seems like neither of us shall get what we want. Now if you'll excuse me, my lord, I have some preparations still pending for tonight. I am sure you can see your family to their rooms for now." 
"Now, you will not even greet my family. Do you have a distaste for them as well?"
"Never. I adore your mama and siblings as if they were my own." Anthony searched for any sign of deceit but instead found honest eyes staring back at him, making his heart ache. "If anything, I am grateful. Alas, there shall be a Bridgerton in this home I do not dislike." 
Your thoughts betrayed you abruptly exited the room and returned to your bed chambers to prepare for the evening, shutting the door and leaning against it in an attempt to steady yourself. Damn him. His scent blurred your thoughts and inhibited every one of your senses as you attempted to concentrate on the anger portrayed in his words. Instead, your mind wandered to how his white shirt hugged every curve of his chest, the plumpness of his lips, and the curve of his jaw. It was alluring in the most intoxicating way. You knew you had to compose yourself before the night began; the last thing you needed was to be distraught at your own ball.
------------------------
You stepped into the ballroom in your new dress gown the modiste had spent a significant amount of time making especially for this occasion. The staircase was beautifully adorned with white roses and touches of lilacs cascading down onto the main area. Candelabras and other flourishing arrangements were stationed around the refreshment tables your guests gathered at, and the thrumming rhythm of classical music whispered into your ears as you took notice of everyone enjoying themselves before greeting them. 
Unbeknownst to you, Anthony stood at the opposite end of the ballroom, observing how you conducted yourself gracefully amongst the guests—making light conversations while extending your kindness to everyone. He marveled at your ability to make each person feel as though they had your undivided attention; although he would never admit it, he found himself yearning for that same attention from you.
Early on, Anthony knew you fit all the requirements he had given himself for a wife. Someone honorable and suitable enough to hold the role of his Viscountess. It was precisely why he had chosen you, but that wasn't the only motive. You were the only lady's company outside his sisters; he did not particularly hate. Every potential partner he sought that season out had come up empty, whether it had been on the conversation or any other unfulfilling matter they discussed. You were different. You carried a conversation like no other, educated in far more areas than he could've hoped for, but none of that quite captured his heart in an unsuspecting manner like your character. You were kind and compassionate in a way he admired; you challenged him in ways that irritated him to no end, yet he found himself entirely enraptured by you. This is precisely why he had no choice other than shut you out completely. Anthony knew letting you get too close would be going against everything he wanted for himself. He couldn't let himself love another or have another love him; with love came loss. That he knew for certain.
"All seems good with the two of you, I see." Daphne smiled while moving to stand by Anthony as she spoke, breaking his train of thought.
"Good? I do not follow, dear sister." Anthony cleared his throat.
"Yes, good. With the way you were just openly admiring your wife, I assume it is only because the two of you have finally gotten over yourselves and admitted whatever it is you feel for one another." Anthony practically rolled his eyes at his younger sister, beginning to regret ever being forthcoming with her about the circumstances of his marriage early on. "Oh, do not tell me you are still playing this game? At this stage of marriage? Anthony-" She began scolding him, but he interrupted and led her to a more private area of the ballroom. 
"There is no game. We married because it was our duty to do so. Nothing more, nothing less. You will have to accept that, Daphne." Anthony's voice grew stern as he furrowed his brows at his sister.
"And I do. What I will not accept is the way your love for each other goes unspoken when it is clear to everyone around you." She spoke her following words in a hushed tone as to keep anyone who may be standing near from listening to them. "There is no doubt you hold love in your heart for her, brother. But if you do not tell her soon, I fear you will lose her and your only chance at happiness forever." With that, Daphne offered him a soft smile before walking towards Simon, who busied himself greeting Lady Danbury and her mama.
The night went on better than you could've hoped for. The dances and mingling were without a flaw, and even Lady Bridgerton and the Dutchess were quick to praise you on how well everything had turned out. Soon the guests started to filter out, making their way home after a long night of celebration. You strolled over to your husband after bidding goodbye to her majesty the Queen and ensuring everything had been to her liking. Anthony couldn't help but take notice of how stunning you looked tonight. How your dress fell perfectly over your figure, gems scattered throughout to match his mother's necklace laid in the most alluring way on the supple skin of your neck and chest. He was entranced in a way he'd never been before. Perhaps Daphne had been right. There's a sentence he never thought he'd utter, he thought to himself. Perhaps he had let his fears control him for far too long.
You had barely noticed your ring slipping from your fingers to fall at Anthony's feet as you approached him. Both of you leaned down to reach for it in unison, fingers ghosting over one another, making your breath catch and your eyes meet as he placed it upon your finger once again. The intimacy of such a small moment becoming too much to bear far too quickly.
"I must go." You could not bear to withstand one more moment under Anthony's intense glare, the part of you that wanted to finally divulge all the feelings you'd fought so hard to suppress after all this time threatening to break through at any given moment. You suddenly stepped back, picked up your dress the best you could, and walked hastily to avoid attracting unwanted attention from lingering guests. As you paced through the gardens, an overwhelming and uncertain feeling washed over you before you overheard Anthony's steps behind you.
"Why? Why is it that you distance yourself from me?" Anthony shouted in a hushed tone toward you. 
"Me? I am not the one stuffed in my office all day, coming to bed at late hours of the night when I am asleep and gone once I wake. Avoiding me day in and day out as if I am a plague to you." Tears welled in your eyes, making Anthony's breath hitch. He could not stand to see you like this. Every nerve in his body burned to fix whatever was troubling you, even if he was the one who caused it. Every feeling he had worked so hard to bury all this time, convincing himself he did not love you, could not love you, surfacing with every word that escaped your lips. "You treat me as though you do not care for me." Your voice was just low enough for him to hear, eyes cast downward, unable to give him so much as a glance through his silence. 
"Do not care for you? It is as if I am being consumed when I am with you. I cannot hold a breath or do the most ordinary task without you racing across my every thought. I feel as though I am losing my sanity because I cannot bear to be without you for one second. And when you are near me, it is positively intoxicating in ways I did not know to be possible." Anthony stepped cautiously toward you, fingers ghosting over your cheek, eyes dancing along your features with adoration filling them. "I love you. I love you as much as a person can love another. I do not wish to hold it inside anymore. I love you."
"I love you too." A sob wracked your chest as you responded without hesitation. The reflection in your eyes conveyed the devotion and tenderness he yearned for. It was as if you indeed saw the pieces of him but only sought to love him as he was, incomplete and perfect in every way in your eyes. As your husband.
Your heartbeat quickened as Anthony stepped close enough so that your noses practically brushed against one another—a familiar desire spreading from your heart to your chest.
Anthony cupped your face, his thumb tenderly stroking your cheek. Chills spread along your skin at the warmth of his touch. Unbridled affection flowed freely and filled the space between you. Your lips met for what felt like the first time; his other hand settled at your waist, prompting you closer to him and deepening the kiss. His lips moved against yours with a gentle urgency. It was as if nothing else mattered, the past becoming more of a distant memory the further you melted into him. There was only this moment. Anthony unwillingly pulled away, leaving your foreheads pressed against one another, his hair slightly disheveled from your fingers running through it, lips swollen and thoroughly kissed. A deep sigh escaped him before he spoke.
"I would marry you again if I could. Do it all over from the very beginning." His voice slightly wavered at the sentiment; it suddenly weighed on him how much he truly meant it. He wished nothing more than to turn back time and love you the way you deserve from the very beginning. Things would have been so different.
"Anthony, you do not need to embellish. We already married." A chuckle escaped you, a knowing smile gracing his lips. "What?"
"You called me Anthony." 
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little-spicy · 1 year
Text
SNOWFALL
Robb Stark x !Baratheon Reader
Summary: an alliance of house Baratheon and house Stark was going to set place in Winterfell. Y/N Baratheon and Robb Stark were to be wed and be man and wife.
WARNING: MDNI!! Smut 🔥🔥
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THE EARLY MORNING WAS CRISP AND COLD, the warm breath that Y/N emitted could be seen in the air.
She held her coat close to her as she watched the morning sunrise. She felt sad as this would be the last moment she would be a young maiden. She would be married later in the afternoon and she felt frightened.
She was told her entire childhood that Robb Stark would be her betrothed. Her father and his father were friends and her father knew the best way their houses could come together was through marriage.
She was the oldest, being one year old than Joffrey and the only one of her family to have her fathers brown curls.
Of course her mother despised the agreement, she believed her daughter was worthy of a better suitor but nonetheless it was still set in stone.
Robb Stark was definitely different from what she imagined. She knew it could of been worse, he was a gentleman and kind, showing her the home that was soon to be shared.
And she could tell he was just as nervous was her. They were both young and knew their duties were required one day.
Y/N tried not to think of it as she felt the sun rise and felt the heat of the sun rest on red cheeks.
"Excited for the big day?" A voice said and Y/N jumped and turned to see her uncle Tyrion coming forward.
"Excited to be married and away from my family?" She asked her uncle sighed and stood beside her.
"It's probably better, you and I both know that kingslanding is no place for someone like you." He told her.
"And what am I?" She asked and he chuckled.
"Truthful, kind, surprising you turned out that way considering how your mother is." He said and she laughed.
"Don't say that too loud, mother can hear everything." She told him.
"That's because your mother is a wicked witch, have I taught you nothing from my bedtime stories?" Tyrion asked and the both laughed.
"I do, even though I know how my family is, I'll still miss them." She said and looked down at her uncle. "Especially you, what will I do without my favorite uncle?"
"You'll adapt, you'll grow that's a good quality you have as well." Tyrion said. "Just know that you'll be taken care of, that Robb stark is a good man, I hate to admit but he's a good man."
"Thank you." Y/N stared at the sunset and closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Time to start the day?"
"Of course, let's go." Tyrion said and walked with his niece.
Both of them taking of the future and of the past, making Y/N feel at ease from the words of her uncle.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
After the small walk and talking with her uncle, she returned to her chambers and only a few moments of peace lasted until her hand maidens came in and began to get ready for the wedding.
She smelled of lavender and lilac, and her long brown curls fell perfectly. She felt refreshed and as they dried her, she saw her wedding gown laying on the bed.
Soon her mother, Lady Stark, and her soon to be sister Sansa had come in to help.
The Stark women came to bring Y/N gifts to welcome her into their home. Sansa had helped make a veil for Y/N and Lady Stark had brought a beautiful brooch of the Stark family to welcome her.
She felt so honored by the kindness of the Stark family, of course she could tell there was never a dull moment.
"If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to be alone with my daughter." Cersei told the Stark ladies and the nodded.
"Of course, see you at the wedding my dear." Lady Stark said and Sansa followed behind and left the two women alone.
Cersei looked at her daughter and smiled, she placed her hands on her daughter's cheek and led her to the dresser.
"Let me do your hair." Cersei said and Y/N nodded and felt content as her mother brushed through her hair. Feeling as if they were home in the castle. "This will be the last time I do it, then you'll do it for daughters of your own."
"I'll miss this." Y/N said sadly. "You always made the prettiest braids."
"Your grandmother did the same thing for me when I was a child." Cersei told her. "You remind me so much of her, my mother was so kind and i remember the day you were born, I could just feel my mother's presence in you."
As Cersei continued to brush, Y/N but her bottom lip and felt the creeping question she always had when it came to her betrothal.
"Mother, is it scary?" Y/N asked her. "I mean I know you didn't marry father for love, how did you do it?"
"Wine, lots of wine." Cersei said, bitterly and grabbed a chunk of hair and brushed it softly. "Overtime it did help that I had children, I had you, that's all that mattered."
"Do you think he'll make me happy?" Y/N asked and Cersei scoffed.
"I wouldn't count too much on that, sometimes it's just an alliance, remember that." Cersei told her and Y/N grew silent. "Are only duty is to marry and bring honor to our house through marriage and bare many children."
Y/N nodded and the two of them fell silent as Cersei continued to do her daughter's hair.
Cersei loved all her children but something about Y/N was special. She was her first, the first one of her children to truly live. She looked up at Cersei and when she did it felt as if nothing mattered.
Her daughter looked up to her and still does, Cersei knows the type of person she is, but the warmth and innocent eyes of her daughter made her feel human and her softer side was only seen by her.
Cersei didn't care of that her daughter wasn't Jaime's all she cared was that her daughter was protected. She truly had a place for her little doe.
"Lets get you in your dress." Cersei said as Y/N looked in the mirror and saw her hair up in a beautiful braid.
She followed her mother and helped her in her dress. She tied up her corset and helped her to the tiniest detail, knowing this would be the last time she would.
"You look beautiful." Cersei said as she led Y/N to the mirror. Y/N felt truly beautiful, she forgot for just a moment what awaited her and felt happy with how she looked.
"Thank you mother." Y/N said and turned to her mother and hugged her tightly. Cersei held her daughter right and tried not to cry.
The women heard a knock on the door and Cersei wiped the tears away quickly and cleared her throat.
"Come in." Cersei said and the door opened to reveal Robert Baratheon, Y/N's father.
"You look so beautiful my little doe." Robert said and came over, he took her hands and took a long look at her.
Y/N blushed and smiled as her father looked down at her with such pride. He thought Lyanna was the most beautiful but at that moment, his daughter was the most beautiful thing he had seen.
"Let us go." Robert said and Cersei sighed and grabbed her veil and placed it over her. "Robb will treat you right, he's a noble man."
Cersei fought the urge to bite back but knew better than to do it. Y/N walked along her mother and father as they began to walk.
Each step they took Y/N began to fully realize she was getting married.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Many people were at the Godswood, the heart of Winterfell and where Lord Stark wanted the ceremony to be.
The tree stood beautiful before them, the faint redness of the leaves contrasted with the white snow. The birds chirped and the small murmurs of the people from Winterfell and the guests that came from Kingslanding.
Her mother parted from her reluctantly and went to where her brothers stood and Robert guided Y/N down the snowy path.
Y/N could see Robb in his bear skin cloak, his face freshly shaven and his eyes were full of emotions. Fear, admiration, and another one she couldn't figure out.
She felt her heart race as she came closer and closer to him. As Y/N and Robert came up to Robb, Robert smiled down.
"Take care of her." Robert said and walked over to his wife.
Robb looked at Y/N and he smiled, she blushed at his gaze and the Septon interrupted their eye contact.
"You may now cloak your bride and bring her under protection." The Septon said and Robb did so and placed the large cloak over her shoulders.
Robb then placed his hand on her back to bring her closer to the Septon and he continued.
"My lords and my ladies, we stand here to unite these two houses as one. Princess Y/N Baratheon and Lord Robb Stark as one flesh, one blood, and one soul."
The Septon pulled out a ribbon and grabbed both of their hands. Y/N's hands were shaking as the Septon took her hand and when Robb placed his hand on top of hers he took it gently and squeezed.
"In the sight of all who sees and in the eyes of the gods I hereby bound these two souls, binding them as one." The Septon spoke. "You may kiss your bride."
Robb looked at Y/N and leaned down to kiss her softly. When they kissed it felt strange, an unfamiliar feeling crept up and Y/N didn't know what it was but she liked it.
The feeling of his warm lips against her made her forget of everyone around them, ignoring the sounds of their cheering and screams of the houses being united.
They parted their kiss and looked at each other with bewilderment. Y/N smiled first and made Robb smile back, he kissed her left cheek softly and the both turned to the crowd in front of them.
"I present to you Lord Robb Stark and Lady Y/N Stark." The Septon spoke and everyone erupted in applause once more.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
After the wedding ceremony the feast that was held afterwards was a party to remember. For once everything seemed peaceful and joyful.
Cersei was actually civil with her brother Tyrion, Robert was blinding drunk yet, and even Joffrey was not as unpleasant as usual.
Everyone cheered and praised the happy couple, giving them their blessings and kind words.
It seemed everyone was so engrossed with the feast that Robb took Y/N away from the loud noises and back to their now shared chamber.
Y/N and Robb were still in their wedding garments, Y/N was able to get her braid undone and her long hair flowed behind her back. They were both unsure of what to do, and stood in front of each other in nervousness.
"I- uh- I know this isn't- that this is-" Robb was then was cut off by Y/N.
"Strange?" Y/N said and Robb nodded and sighed in relief.
"Yes." Robb answered. "We don't have to-"
"I- I want to." Y/N said, her face turning red. "I just want you to know, I know I'm not the ideal girl you intended to marry but I want to be the best wife I can."
Robb's eyes softened at her words, she cupped his cheeks.
"I don't want to be like my mother and father." She told him. "I want to be an ally, a companion, so much more than just an alliance."
She kissed both his cheeks and he grabbed her waist and pulled her close.
"I'd like that, I want you to know that I will be an honorable man."'Robb told her and held her tight. "I know I'm not the man you wanted either but I promise you I'll treat you as an equal."
Y/N nodded and grabbed his hand and placed it on top of her shoulders and guided him to take off her dress. The world felt still and they both felt as if they couldn't breath once Y/N's dress fell on the floor.
Robb then got on his knees and kissed up her thigh, she blushed bright red and felt electricity as she felt every kiss on her thigh.
She tried to hide a moan but Robb heard her and that's what made him feel bold, snap.
Robb suddenly got up and picked her up bridal style, she squealed as he placed her on the bed.
Y/N looked up to Robb and the look in his eyes held lust. She watched as Robb moved his hands across her body and felt her body tingle and goosebumps erupted.
He placed her on the warm bed, layered with thick blankets, and the soft feel of sheep's skin.
Her long hair fell back as Robb looked down at her, his eyes filled with lust.
"Gods, you're beautiful." He said and kissed one of her breast, causing her to squirm.
He smiled while continuing to kiss her, he went up to her neck and up until he reached her lips.
She kissed him and touched his cheeks gently. As they pulled apart they put their foreheads together and both caught their breaths.
"It's going to hurt for a second, I'll be gentle I promise." Robb told her and she could feel her tummy flutter as he grabbed his cock and rubbed it through he folds, touching her clit over and over.
She felt terror rise in her chest as she awaited the pain, all her life after she gotten her maiden hood, her maids, mother, and septas told her of the pain of her wedding night.
She felt his cock slide through and she hissed, she immediately put her hand on his arm and squeezed. He stopped and saw the tears fall.
"I'm sorry." He said and kissed her cheeks and waited for her to allow him to move.
"It's alright." Y/N told him and looked up to him with glossy eyes. "You can move, love."
The nickname she gave him made his heart swell and he moved at a slow pace, he tried not to cum as he felt her warm, tight walls grip him.
She felt the uncomfortable burn of being stretched and as he continued to move, the more bearable it was. The soon burn began to make her stomach flutter, and her breath hitch.
Robb watched as her expression changed from pain to pleasure. It made Robb swell with pride as his wife felt pleasure and leaned down and kissed her as his pace didn't stop.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and gripped into his auburn curls. As they released each other from their kiss, she threw her head back with a moan.
"Please." She begged and Robb smirked, leaning down to her her ear.
"What? What do you need?" He asked tauntingly, and pulled back slowly and slammed back into her and she yelped in surprise.
"Please, don't hold back." She looked at him and touch her hand on cheek. "Fuck me."
She kissed him once more and he moaned in her mouth and obliged to her and began to fully pound into her.
He was feral, he was relentless and fully in heaven as she milked him.
"I-I'm, oh gods!" She yelled and felt her walls clamped down onto his shaft.
She felt him shudder in pleasure as his ropes of cum began to fill inside her.
"Gods, yes." He moaned and jolted as he moved his cock in and out slowly, coming down from his high.
She felt goosebumps on her arms and legs as she began to breathe heavily from her first orgasm.
Robb pulled out of her and she felt full of his seed as he collapsed beside her. She moved to her side to face him, the faint glow of the candles and fire shone on his face.
The look of happiness and content from his face made her heart swell.
"Hi." She said to him, which caused him to chuckle.
"Hi." He said and she felt her cheeks redden.
He put his hand on her hip and he could feel the goosebumps rise.
"So that was-" Robb couldn't find the words and she finished for him.
"Amazing." She said and he nodded, he leaned forward and kissed her lips softly.
"Now that you're my wife, I won't be able to get enough." He said and she shuffled closer to him and he held her in his arms. "I meant what I said."
"What?" She asked and looked up at him.
"I'd treat you as an equal, my wife and a friend." He said and Y/N laid her head on his chest. Smiling hearing those words and hearing the sound of his heart beating.
"Thank you." She said and moaned as she felt Robb touch her clit and made her squirm in his arms.
"What do you say, lady stark, another time?" He asked and felt his cum coat her thighs and smeared his cum around as lube and she could feel herself getting wet again.
"Yes, my lord." She said and Robb growled and got on top of her, she giggled as he enveloped her in his arms and kissed him.
She felt happiness in his arms, and held him close. Both of them later in the night tangled in each other and asleep together.
Both of them glad that they were husband and wife.
A/N: HOPE YOU LIKED IT!!! Ty for reading and I also wanted to add I'm doing commissions!!!! Just message me and I can show you some of my pieces or go to @ peytonmunson on insta!
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ickadori · 3 months
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++ 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎 — 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆
↳ Choso is still unfamiliar with the more human way of doing things, but he is trying, so you can’t fault him too much when his actions resemble that of a curse rather than a human. VALENTINES EVENT MASTERLIST
[cws] yandere. stalking. chikan. mild violence. fem reader. i’ve taken creative liberties and made it so that choso can choose when he’s visible to humans thanks to being half-curse, half-human :3 reader is american.
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Right and wrong is not something that Choso concerns himself with - he simply does what he pleases.
It’s not in the sense of him thinking that he’s above human laws (he is) and can therefore ignore them, but rather that he’s not familiar with them.
Yuji has told him time and time again about what is and is not acceptable, but it just hasn’t clicked in his head yet. In the rare times that he shows himself to humans, he always finds himself breaking some type of rule, law, or societal norm, as Yuji tells him.
“You can’t walk so close to people, Choso - they’ll think you’re a pervert or something!”
“I don’t care if she smelt good - you can’t sniff her like a dog!”
“Put your dick away! That’s not a bathroom! You can’t piss there!”
“No, Choso! You can’t kill somebody just because the line is too long!”
Humans were bound by so many rules, it was annoying. Choso found himself staying hidden more often than not, choosing to observe the people around him rather than taking more ‘lessons on humanity’ from his younger brother—Yuji was a big help, don’t get him wrong, but Choso didn’t feel right taking lessons from his younger sibling. Choso was the oldest, the one meant to protect and teach his younger brothers (something he had failed to do on two occasions, as he so painfully remembers every day), and if he didn’t know it, then it was his duty to learn it on his own.
The regular people of Japan, the ones who were terribly unfit to defend themselves (it’d be a hassle trying to protect them - he’s glad they’re not his siblings), were incredibly boring. Majority of them only worked and slept, some occasionally getting drunk at some hole-in-the-wall bar before stumbling home and passing out in the living room.
Choso preferred watching the not-so-regular people of Japan, the ones who led a life that Yuji always turned his nose up at, but Choso didn’t think they were so bad. They do what they want, what’s so wrong with that, he always asked. They didn’t let rules shape their actions or let laws turn them into a completely different person - they were simply them, and Choso found it admirable, in a way.
He watched men cloaked in black skulk around alleyways looking for a target to rob, women dressed in skimpy clothing slipping into cars only to slip out a few moments later with blood on their cleavage, teenagers walking into stores with no money yet walking out with pockets stuffed full of snacks and drinks, men in suits exchanging briefcases full of drugs and money, truck drivers transporting living, breathing humans adorned in chains - the dregs of society as so many called them.
He watched them sparingly, only when he grew bored of the mundane lives of everyone else, everyone else except for you, of course.
Choso had been watching you ever since he first began this poor attempt to assimilate into Yuji’s world. You lived a boring, plain, safe life, but he found himself interested nonetheless. You were an office worker, one with a funny accent that he learned was American. You liked to read and occasionally write, and you went on walks in the park on the weekend and took pictures of the scenery. You didn’t drink and you didn’t smoke but all your friends did. You had a library card that you lost on a monthly basis. You had an unhealthy addiction to carbonated drinks. You hated going to the dentist. You avoided stepping on the cracks in sidewalks. You desperately wanted a pet but your lease forbade you from getting one.
These were the boring, mundane details of your life. Nothing exciting, nothing noteworthy, and yet Choso had memorized it all.
You were on your way home from work now, unaware of Choso’s presence behind you. He was close - close enough to breathe in the scent of your signature perfume and take a peek down the top of your button down. Even your bra was boring, a dull gray that covered you fully, and an annoyed pout formed on his face before he turned his attention to the phone in your hand.
You were checking your banking account, likely making sure that you had enough for your daily sweet treat and tea from your favorite shop. It turns out that you don’t have enough, but he already knew that. You didn’t get paid until tomorrow, and you had used the last bit of your money on a recurring subscription that you had forgotten to cancel.
You sigh under your breath before dropping your phone into your purse, and Choso falls into step beside you, the rest of the journey to the train station going by uneventfully, as usual.
~
It’s a new day, and the same routine.
There’s a couple that steps onto the train before the both of you, their hands intertwined and the woman’s head nuzzled against the man's arm. Physical affection was another thing that Choso wasn’t familiar with.
Even if majority of his life hadn’t been spent locked away in a sealed vial, it wasn’t in his nature to be gentle with his hands - they were tools to protect what was dearest to him, and the only way he knew how to do that was to kill whatever threatened what was closest to him.
Although he wasn’t sure if you would appreciate that in this moment - you were squeamish when it came to blood, funnily enough, and he doubted he could kill the man standing behind you without making a mess.
“Tch.” Choso hovers near you, his eyes taking in the scene. You’re on your morning commute to work, dressed in the white button down he watched you press this morning, and a black pencil skirt that stuck to you like glue - it had been amusing watching you shimmy into it, stumbling around your room and cursing as you threw worried glances at the digital clock on your nightstand.
You were dressed identical to every other woman on this train -your hair was even in a similar updo- and yet the man—the pervert as Yuji would have called him—had singled you out in the overcrowded place. He stood behind you, closely, and Choso leaned to peer around your shoulder, lip lifting in annoyance when he sees the man’s crotch pushed against the swell of your ass.
The act itself doesn’t bother him, but rather that you’re the one the man chose to enact it on. He likely wouldn’t have batted an eye had the man chosen one of the other women to feel on, but the sight of someone touching you had never failed to invoke a feeling of intense hatred in Choso.
He didn’t like it, and he made it known when he moved to stand behind the man. He settled a heavy on his shoulder, his energy dark, thick and heavy as it nearly filled all the corners of the train car - an embodiment of the anger swirling in his gut. The man jolts and looks back over his shoulder, seeing nothing but perhaps a murky, dark substance. His hand grips hard, and the crunch that sounds followed by the pained wail doesn’t do much to quell that anger.
He had touched you, someone that Choso was closely coming to regard as important, and there was only one way that could right this wrong, but that would have to wait until the number of people around were low. Too many eyes were never good, and Choso had studied humans enough to know that their first instinct was to run to the police when they saw a body drop before their eyes.
With a shove to the side, the man is thrown halfway across the car, and a cacophony of shouts sound off as he goes tumbling. You spin around, eyebrows pulled together and mouth set in an angry line, and Choso feels that strange human urge to comfort surge forth.
You cast a glare to the man, your hands moving to hitch your bag higher up your shoulder, and you keep your back to the door, likely in an attempt to keep that from happening again…what’s it called again? He’s seen this scenario play out before in one of Yuji’s books that he tries and fails to keep a secret.
Ch…chi…chikan, train molestation.
His brother is a pervert, without a doubt, but he supposes that works in his favor. The magazine had piqued his interest, firstly because Yuji had gone to great lengths to stuff it into the back of his closet underneath a set of his college textbooks, and secondly because it housed a taboo of society, and the taboo is what interested Choso these days.
He had read it in its entirety, and then had tried to witness it himself. He had spent hours hanging around the station, going in and out of cars and maneuvering between bodies to try and catch a glimpse of the depraved act, yet he came up with nothing, until today that is.
And what a letdown that had been.
His mouth pulls down at the sides, and he gives you a slow once over. He starts at neatly done hair, moves down to sculpted brows that frame glossy eyes, then to a nose that he wouldn’t mind feeling against his own, and down to a set of lips that he finds himself thinking about more and more these days.
He goes further down, down to the way your shirt stretches across your breasts, the buttons straining just a bit, and he tilts his head to the side, a new type of feeling now festering in the pit of his stomach.
Your hands clasp together in front of you, the movement forcing your chest to jut out a bit more, and when the train curves around a bend, Choso lets gravity move him closer to you, head angled down. You tense just a bit, and your senses must be a bit better than everyone else’s, or maybe he’s just doing a poor job at concentrating on concealing himself.
You push yourself a bit further into the corner, and he further crowds you into it, a spark of excitement running up his spine — prey. That’s what you remind him of in this moment as you cower in the corner from a threat you can’t see. He wants to sink his teeth into you—no, his hands. He wants to touch you and squeeze you all over, sink his fingers into soft flesh and leave his mark behind.
So he does.
Tentatively, at first.
The tips of his fingers hover near your cheek, casting a shadow that you’re unable to see, and his breathing grows labored when he finally touches you - it’s shocking, literally. You jump as you feel it, and Choso frowns. He hasn’t learned about the grand thing called static, so in his mind, his mind that was locked away and kept rudimentary for so long, this shock upon first contact signified something monumental…something visceral.
You press further against the wall, brows furrowing as your hand moves up to rub at your cheek, and Choso moves down to the slope of your neck, fingers running along the throbbing vein, racing pulse, and then he’s rubbing at your collarbones. You’re warm just like him, but where he’s hard you’re soft - soft, doughy, fragile.
His hands settle on your breasts, one in each palm, and he squeezes. Oh. You frown deeper, your eyes dropping to where his hands are groping, but you don’t see. He’s right up on you now, head angled down and jaw slack as he tests the weight in his hands - they’re a nice size, a good size. Your nipples get hard under his hand, and he rubs against it with his thumb - your bra is so thin.
He thinks back to that book and what he had read in it, images of the debauchery floating to the front of his mind, and his mouth runs dry at the thought of doing those things to you. He had never thought about sexual gratification, much less craved it, but he felt as if he had been subconsciously seeking it out all his life and he had finally found it.
His breath is practically coming out in pants, matching the rapid thumps of his heart. He traps your nipples between his fingers and squeezes. You suck in a sharp breath of air, eyes darting around at the other passengers who don’t pay you much attention - they’re all warily looking at the man still moaning in pain as he sags in a corner and clutches at his shoulder.
Choso squeezes again, and he knows it’ll feel better if he was touching you skin on skin, but he’s certain you wouldn’t take kindly to him scattering your shirt buttons all over the floor of the train and leaving your bra in tatters so he pushes that thought away for later - maybe for when you’re curled under your blankets at night and in a deep, deep sleep.
The maddening ache in his pants would have taken him by surprise a few months ago, but Choso has gotten pretty acquainted with his body with the help of a few snagged medical books and Yuji’s laptop (which was still an enigma to Choso at times).
Both of his hands leave your breasts to instead push at his pants, the baggy material easily slipping down toned, lean thighs until they pool around his booted ankles.
His cock is pale but noticeably darker at the tip, and there’s a long, prominent vein that starts at the center of his shaft and disappears into black, coily pubes. His cock has never been able to stand up properly, weighted down by the sheer size, so it hangs between his thighs, thick and heavy, identical to his desire for you.
He wraps a hand around his turgid length, hissing through his teeth as he does, and pushes closer. You don’t move a muscle, standing stock-still as you try and fail to make sense of all these ‘phantom’ sensations.
If they were able, he’s sure your knuckles would have long since turned white with how hard you’re clutching onto the purse that’s now cradled against your chest. Your thighs shift together, inadvertently making your skirt rise a bit, heels noisily clinking against the platform of the car as you shuffle, and Choso spreads his legs and bends at the knees, a heaving breath leaving him as he slots his cock right through the opening between your thighs that you so graciously left.
The tights clinging to your thighs are smooth and silky, and coupled with the heat of your skin that perforates through, Choso feels himself jerk and twitch at the feeling. It’s leagues better than his hand, and his mind is already spinning at the thought of how you’ll feel on the inside.
His hand comes down heavy against the door beside your head, and you flinch as your head whips to the side to look, eyebrows furrowing when you notice the large handprint on the glass. His other hand curls around the pole to the left of you, hand gripping it so tight that he can feel the steel denting underneath his grip, and he rocks his hips, slowly.
Warm, soft, squishy, the adjectives flit through his mind one after the other, a new one coming with each push of his cock between your thighs. He’s hot all over, skin burning and strands of black plastering themselves to his damp face. His balls are tight, and his left eye twitches when a soft sound escapes your mouth, a look of bewilderment on your face.
He comes, hard. His orgasm locks all his muscles up and makes his teeth snap together so hard they nearly shatter. His eyes roll back, the pole caves in under the pressure of his grip, the window beside your head shatters as his hand goes through it, and he makes a split second decision to show himself in an effort to shield you from the hail of glass.
Choso can nearly see the scream of fright that gets caught in your throat at his sudden appearance, and a grin that lacks remorse twists onto his lips. Your bugged eyes slowly trail down, and the scream finally un-lodges itself when you catch sight of his softening length and the mess it’s left on your clothing.
Choso hides himself once again and steps off at the next station as he fixes his clothing. You stumble off as well, frantically heading towards the security booth as your eyes dart around to catch sight of him.
Soon, he thinks.
He’d let you see him again soon enough.
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heavensgxte · 1 year
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Besieged part II
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part one
tw - noncon, forced marriage, pregnancy mentions, breeding kink, blowjobs, naoya being naoya and being an asshole. naoyas shitty excuse of foreplay. not beta read
wc- 2.1k
by clicking read more you are agreeing to consume and read dark content.
a/n- hey…how y’all doin. don’t hate me for posting this over two years later lolol i honestly didn’t think i’d ever get back to this but. i have had been on a writing kick lately. i hope my skills haven’t completely disappeared. thank you for all the love for part one.
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You wake up the next morning, covered in dry cum. You feel its presence still very much so stuffed into your cunt. You also feel a warm body draped over yours, looking over at the table you do see a glass of water. You also feel a flaccid cock you must have been warming all night long.
Did he really fuck you until he passed out? You reason he probably did. You look towards the window to find the sun just beginning to rise, not being able to stop the few tears that escape your eyes, a true moment to yourself, sort of. For the last week, the weight of your situation settles, is this really how you’re going to spend the rest of your life?
Eventually, you reckon you had silently cried yourself back to sleep. It was the fact that when you had come to again, your now husband wasn't sprawled out on top of you. But a maid with a worried look on her face gently tapping you awake. Telling you it was time to change the bedding, her skittish voice starting to pull away the curtains of grogginess out of your system.
You make sure to give her a warm smile, nodding and giving a soft thank you. Making a mental note to treat the staff nicely, showing them you are nothing like that vile man you have been legally bound to.
The maid turns away to give you privacy as you move your sore body to plant your feet on the cold floor. Seeing a note laying on your bedside table, picking it up you read it over. “I will be attending my own duties until mid-day, don’t bother me, I shall come find you when I deem it is time. Don’t miss me too much <3” You scoff crumpling the note and tossing it where you found it.
Shivering you pull on the robe nearby, letting the soft fabric hug your frame, giving another smile to the maid, you make your way to the washroom and out of her way. You spot the shower and take a better look at the elegant room. The ofuro and shower separated, traditional yet modern touches adjourning the room. Both bathing options are definitely big enough for two, you mentally note that he had done that on purpose. Looking between the two options, a soak in the ofuro seemed more tempting, something to soothe your aching body from the rough treatment you had taken last night.
Taking a good look in the mirror as you begin to fill up the bath, your eyes widen at the state of your body. Darkened marks adorn your neck and chest, accompanied by bite and scratch marks decorating your thighs and waist. Is he even human? You surely don’t remember the sex being this animalistic, but your fucked out brain probably drifted off after your second or third orgasm you presume.
Hopefully he isn’t this insatiable every night. The thought sends shivers down your spine, keeping yourself distracted by adding salts and herbs you had found sitting out into the steaming water.
Carefully stepping in and letting the warmth consume you, you close your eyes and lean your head back, letting daydreams run through your weary head as you lean it against the edge of the appliance. Near dissociation when.
The brash opening of the door rips you out of your thoughts, you hear his footsteps before you see him round the corner quickly. Ripping you out of your dream-like state, sending your nervous system into fight or flight mode, a shrill gasp emitting from you.
“Ah ha there you are. I was wondering if you were going to wake up or not before the sun went down.” Naoya says as if it was a matter of fact. Cat like eyes trying to peer beneath. “I was looking all over for my little wife.” The man poses with a faux stretch. “I got done with my duties early, and I can’t wait to spend the rest of the evening playing with my new toy.” He begins to shed his daily attire.
Sighing, but not quite in defeat you close your eyes and begin to mutter “well excuse me for trying to take even a bath by my-”
Before you could even finish the sentence, you heard it before you felt it. A smack resounding in the room before your hand flies to your face to soothe the stinging pain. Shocked with wide eyes you avert your profile to him.
You are met with a stern look to his amber eyes, face unreadable. “I will tolerate little from you. I knew choosing you there would be some pushback, a stubborn woman such as yourself. However,  you are smart enough to know and follow expectations regarding being my wife. I do not tolerate back talk. The rumors surrounding my clan are indeed true. We expect traditional wives. You will be absolutely no different.”
Flabbergasted you cannot control your rising emotions as they burst through the seams. “Expectations?! Guidelines?! I didn’t even want this!” No, you will not cry. Not in front of him.
A strong hand grips your face, a force even pulling you from the ofuro. “This. Isn’t. About. You.” Venom laced in his words as he shook your head back and forth. “I don’t care what you want. Surprise wife! You are here for me and me alone. That is your purpose in your pathetic life. Serve me. Warm my bed. Be my personal fuckhole. And bare me an heir. Speaking of fuckholes….” Naoya mumbles. Fumbling around with the cloth on his body. Slipping all of it off, the light illuminating off of his body, accentuated by the steam.
You’d be lying to yourself as to say he did not have a nice body. He did, and a nice cock, 7 and a half inches or so with decent girth and a perfect curve. You would know, the entire night the damn thing was inside of you, you are now very much so used to it.
To add on to his earlier statement, you are being gripped by the nape of the neck, Naoya standing on the stool you use to step into the tub, but he’s not stepping on.
“Open that whore mouth my dear beloved.” How can someone’s words be so venomous yet patronizing?
Taking a moment to process you don’t even see his hand come down to pinch your left nipple, the gasp parting your lips is all he needs to shove it in between your parted lips. Going slow and taking your time is not your dear husband's forte, obviously. As he is instantly gripping the sides of your slippery cheeks and moving his hips to fuck his cock farther and farther down your throat. Your gags, and spluttering echo to and fro through the bathroom, along with the sound of his balls, slapping your chin, pulsing with the need for release.
Though the man above you is groaning, face scrunched up in concentration and pleasure. He protests a moment. “No, no no, fuck, no, need your cunt. Gimme…” Naoya begins to mumble, pulling you up by your arm from the ofuro. “Bend over the edge, yeah, yeah just like that.”
You know it’s futile to argue, and you can’t deny, that he does feel good, is that why your body is betraying you when you arch yourself over the edge of the bathroom appliance? Why you don’t kick and scream when you feel him spread your cheeks to get an adequate view of your cunt glistening with bath water, slightly covered in suds from your attempt of relaxation? Is it that deep down you know that submitting to him is your best option right now? Can you really do this for the rest of your life? In such a compromising position, your thoughts run wild.
All thoughts stop racing through your mind when you feel the head of his cock push in through your tight hole. Shaky trembling hands gripping your hips tightly. Naoya’s head is also whirring in pleasure, just like yours.
“Fuck fuck it’s just as tight as last night.” A sigh emits his mouth. As if his cock in your pussy could melt all his stresses and worries away. Fuck. Is all that he can formulate. Using his hands to bring you back and forth on his erection. A moan threatens to emit from your mouth before you cover it with your hand, no you cannot give him that satisfaction. Biting down on your hand for some semblance of control.
A semi cold hand finds its way to your warm slick breast, a hardy squeeze as he brings up his tempo. “Y-yeah” he groans. “Take it, like you’re meant to. All you’ll ever be good for anyways.” Naoya growls, speeding up his thrusts. Biting down on your shoulder. Angling his hips to hit deep inside your cunt over and over your G-spot. You swear you can feel him in your chest at this point.
Your hand falls to the edge of the tub squeezing the edge in an attempt to ground yourself from the new found angle. You do not want to give him the satisfaction of his use of your body as his own personal fuck-hole, that he could make you cum from the treatment as well.
“Fu- shit. You’re milking me you bitch!” His teeth detach from your shoulder, his hand gathering at the crown of your head to hold onto your hair and bring his body towards him. “Look at me.” The blond demands. Pace never falters. “A fucking mess from a little fucking.” He hisses. “Who owns you?”
As if he can talk, he’s practically panting and drooling like an animal in heat. The latter question sparks a flood of defiance in you, moving your head side to side.
“Tell me who you belong to if you wanna cum. Otherwise, you can just suck me off and I'll finish all over that pretty face. I don’t fucking care.”
You jolt in surprise as you feel his hand on your clit, lithe fingers swirling the bud. Teasingly coming and going each time you tighten around him. The itch that needs to be scratched is becoming a far bigger problem. Your inhibitions going out the window.
I mean, it's four words, it can't hurt right? Just this once you reason.
“I belong to…” You muster the reward of Naoya’s fingers rubbing your bundle slightly faster. The sounds of your moans and his hips slapping yours echoing in the bathroom.
“G-go on I can’t hold out much longer, stupid cunt feels too good.”
“I-I Belong to y-you! Na-Naoya!” You finally snap at the same time your husband increases the pace of both his fingers and thrusts. Your cunt squeezing him so tight he can barely pull out to go back in, your release exiting out of your spent pussy, splashing on Naoya’s pelvis.
“Too tight, too tight SHIT!” The man curses, pushing himself practically against your womb as you hear him growl, squeezing your body to him so tightly not even paper could come between.
You feel the final twitch as you come down from your high. Warm spurts of cum filling you to the brim.
Naoya pulls out slightly wincing as his spent cock falls out. Mesmerized seeing his pearly cum in your thoroughly abused pussy. Two fingers wasting no time to push it deeper. “I-it has to take. You need to be knocked up.” He pants, as you turn your head worried eyes widening. “Need to make sure you can’t leave. Even if you tried.” The latter part of the sentence comes out more dark as the former.
As you sit and lament over what just happened. Naoya steps beside you to drain the tub, leaving half the water before he fills it again with warm water. You look at him quizzically, he pays no mind, checking the water. Adding some salt and soap to the bath.  Before lifting you up and setting you in without a word. “I have one more errand to attend to.” He exclaims redressing himself. “I will be eating dinner with you. Your husband says before leaving the bathroom. Not waiting for a response from you.
Shock leaves your system. Did he just… Do something nice for you? You won’t say it’s the best aftercare, but honestly you thought he was just going to leave you on the cold tiled floor. Warmth creeps up to your heart at the gesture. You shake your head, scolding yourself. You cannot fall for crumbs. Never for him, anyone but him.
You can figure something out, you reason. Find a way to leave and keep your family safe at the same time. Change your names, move out of the country, something! You cannot stay here, if you don’t leave now. You will be stuck under his heel forever.
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