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#retrieval of the bride
imagine-darksiders · 11 months
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In Eden's Heir, Strife's crush comes out in full when he goes into his Anarchy form.
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agentwashingcat · 1 year
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Hades hating Heracles but not Theseus is funny considering Theseus once broke into the underworld with his buddy Pirithous to *checks notes* kidnap Persephone so Pirithous could marry her
Thesus was rescued by Heracles but Pirithous is probably still down there, being tortured by the furies lmao
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theheadlessgroom · 9 months
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https://www.tumblr.com/beatingheart-bride/720424622723612672/beatingheart-bride-theheadlessgroom
@beatingheart-bride
“Wow...” Randall had murmured, having been in absolute wonder at her recounting of Daisy and the gator-he supposed an alligator was the perfect pet for a siren; there were few other predators in the waters that could match them in ferocity, they had a similar appetite, and they could live together quite harmoniously, in both the water and on land. It was the perfect partnership, really.
(That, and he couldn’t help but be touched by this story; a lonely little hatchling taken under a siren’s wing, growing up to be her loyal friend and fellow hunter...it reminded him of hunters and their dogs, those loyal hounds loping alongside their masters on their way back from a successful hunt...it was a bit of a funny image, imagining a tubby alligator doing the same-especially when he mostly knew them for being lazy critters, sunning themselves on the banks for the most part-but endearing nonetheless.)
“I always wanted a pet too,” he admitted with a soft yawn (bad thing about fisherman’s pie; it always had the funniest habit of making him sleepy...maybe it was all that richness somehow, it always happened every time his father made it), leaning up against the tub with a little smile. “Never had one, but I used to take care of some of the feral kittens who used to sleep under our porch. Used to come outside and put out a saucer of milk, and they’d just flock to it, and I used to pet them while they drank.”
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The Supreme Empress
Kylo Ren x Reader
Summary: The dark side chose you. They pried you out of the rebel camps and dragged you from the ashes and the corpses of your family. The dark side chose you to strengthen the force, to be the vessel for their plans, to be the bride of the Supreme Leader's pupil, to bear Kylo Ren's seed and ensure the might of their divine wrath.
Word Count: 11k+ 🧍‍♀️💀
Warnings: fem!Reader, slow burn, forced marriage AU, themes of stockholm syndrome/gaslighting/brain washing, mentions/depictions of violence, enemies to lovers?, smut (scratching, marking, ?manipulating?, fingering, vaginal penetration, cock warming), fluff, angst, typos, etc.
A/N: this fucking ai chat man. fuck that shit MINORS DNI honestly. its my fault for making a plot. i just wanted to write smut fml. i hate it here. i couldn't even finish it cos now i cant write the smut dafaq? anyway im sure i got typos so you must forgive me. i have not gone through this yet and i need to brush my teeth and pull myself together bye Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx
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I fell to my knees. I was in tears, in dust, in blood, and in pain. My wrists were bound behind me and my clothes were tattered and torn.
This was it. This was the day I die. I felt it in my bones. This was the reckoning.
And then my deliverer, my executioner, came before me. And then I felt the Force in him echo in the room and ripple through me like a blade through my chest.
It was him. The phantom that haunted me every time I closed my eyes. He was the nightmare in my sleep, and the damning voice in my head in the morning. The dark warrior, death given form, the murmuring voice of the shadows.
The Sith Lord.
Here he is, crossing this bridge from the entrance of this cursed compound.
The place is busy, busy with its plans of destruction. I heave at the grandness of it all. It was terrifying to see it up close, especially since I was evidently at the top, and it was a very long drop down.
I crane my neck up at him, face stained with tears. I was exhausted but I put on my last show. I bared my last look of defiance before he kills me, before he finally completes this cycle of torment he has been inflicting onto me.
I close my eyes and await his judgement.
I feel him come before me, but he instead walks past, and I hear someone choke from behind.
"Did I not instruct that she be left unharmed?" his voice barks through his dark mask.
My heart pounds as I hear straining from behind me. I steal a look from over my shoulder and instantly regret it when I see the two stormtroopers that dragged me here get thrown down the side of the bridge. I shudder. Like I said, it's a long drop down.
I look straight when he returns to me. I feel him undo my shackles with his Force, and then... he clutches my arm to help me stand.
I look up at him. I see my reflection on his helmet. I clench my jaw, "what do you want from me?"
"My empress-"
My stomach rolls.
"-I have finally retrieved you from your sullied camp to bring you to your rightful place next to me. To claim you as my own."
A shiver runs down my spine.
No, this can't be real.
My breathing strains. I grip my hands and I begin to step back.
It electrocutes me, this searing cold voice in my brain. It was a suddenly as if I remembered the dialogue in the horrors of my slumber that I so hardly tried to suppress. It was replaying now, the voice of the malevolent, the voice of the creature ruling my nightmares. "I give you to my pupil. With your Force converged with his, the purest of warriors will be borne. And my power will know no bounds."
"You remember now, bride," my captor iterated, "that voice in your head right now-- that is the Supreme Leader; that is Snoke."
I step back, "bride?" my breath hitches.
I was his b--
My knees almost give in, but again, his hold on my arm keeps me upright.
I feel my eyes begin to water.
Please, please, let this be another horrible, horrible nightmare.
"Is everything prepared?"
"Yes, my lord," two voices call out from behind me.
"Good," he says, and I released, "I will watch as you prepare her. I will not allow her be injured further."
I was--
I was here to be sacrificed to the darkness.
I was here to answer to the calls that have been plaguing me for so long, ever since that day my home planet was invaded, ever since everything I knew was reduced to atoms.
I let out a loud yelp when I am splashed with cold water. I let out a breathy curse and the servant who had done it, who had profusely apologized, is suddenly being choked.
It is only now I am cognizant again. It was now that I was aware I am in the bathroom, stripped naked in a tub, and my captor has his servant in a chokehold from across the room. I gasp and cover my bare chest, looking over my shoulder as he hisses, "you could not have made the water warmer? How would you like to be dunked in a pool of ice water?"
My breath hitches, "let her go!"
His voice buzzes behind his helmet as he curls his hand further with his outstretched arm, "she has one task, one simple task, and if she cannot perform it, then she is no use to me."
I panic as I see the servant's eyes water. I jolt when the other servant grabs my shoulder and begins to wash my skin as though nothing was awry. I turn from the servant back to him, "LET HER GO!"
He does nothing.
"LET. HER. GO!"
He seems to be debating my words.
I panic and quip breathlessly, "let her go!"
I sigh in relief when the servant is dropped.
A shiver runs down my spine when he goes at ease by the door. He clutches his hands before him and announces, "thank your empress for her mercy."
Immediately, before she can even catch her breath, the servant responds, "th-ank you, empress." The woman quickly begins to attend to me again.
I am far beyond perturbed.
I don't know what to do with myself, not when I was being bathed by strangers, not when I naked in the tub, not when he was there, watching me.
Why the fuck did that sicko have to watch like a bird in a fucking cage?
Careful, bride.
I stiffen in my place. The servants working on my body halt their work and ask me if their touch was too rough.
Lest you forget I have also been in your dreams. You ought to honor me even in your thoughts, baby bird.
"... my empress?" one servant calls.
"She is fine," he answers for me, "you may proceed."
And then, I'm being dragged out of the tub and patted down in front of a huge mirror. I don't know what to cover, and I can feel him looking. Never mind my naked form in and of itself, but my cuts and bruises from ripping and screaming at the stormtroopers that pried me into their ship. It was loathsome sight to see.
"Must you watch me?" I ask accusingly yet under my breath.
"Yes," he replies, as if it makes anything better, as if it was actually a question, as if he didn't know what I meant with my words. And then he clarifies, as if it helped, "your physical state does not bother me. It does not make you any less than you are, my bride."
My eyes twitch as I am finally handed undergarments to wear. I find my voice again, finally, "that's not the-"
"My pretty bride."
I cease my movements. What the fuck is he saying?
I don't have time to ponder those words as the servants urge me to dress and then quickly begin to fasten me with bandages, namely on my thigh where I had a cut and on my bicep that had a burn.
And though I so badly wanted to whine in protest and dramatic spite, I do my best to contain them. After all, the servants were helping me, they don't need to be Force choked for doing a job they were tasked to accomplish by their malignant master.
The next moment, I was being put into an elaborate garment and then they started painting on my face. Suddenly, I was.... turning into something else. I looked at the mirror and everything was so very real and unimaginable all at once. This was all happening to me. This wasn't a nightmare, not a fever dream, and there was no escape.
And then they told him- my groom- that I was done and I stared at my reflection, unable to recognize myself.
Who in the world were you?
"Come," he says, raising his hand up to me, "we must not delay any further."
I look at his reflection from the mirror. I look at his hand, hid behind his glove, his body, hid behind his cloak, and his face, hid behind his mask. I was going to me wed to this stranger, hidden in darkness?
I stare at him. I clench my jaw. I tell him I'm not going but utter not a single word. I sear it in his brain with my eyes. I scream it, blare it out as loudly as I could.
And yet he only watches me. He watches me with an urging dark hand.
My heart pounds in my ribs. I expect him to begin to lash out at one point, to choke me next, but he doesn't. He stands there, just stands there, reaching out to me.
Was this his twisted way of making me feel like I was willingly going to him? His way of telling me he was the only route in my life now?
My nostrils flare and I gather my skirt. I stare at him as I walk past him. My body was rigid and I had no idea where I was going, but I walked. And then he opened the doors for me.
My hand twitched when he took it, as he was suddenly beside me. I gasp at the unexpected and uninvited touch and I turn to him in surprise, but it is arduous with this ridiculous headpiece on me. His hand is massive and burning hot against my freezing clammy one. He tugs me toward him, "it's this way."
So, we when go this way.
We tread the halls, and I swear I could feel people following after us, more and more each moment, but I couldn't look back, literally, the fucking headpiece was in the way.
And then the atmosphere started to get darker, and it was like it was suddenly so much harder to breathe. It was clear to me we were heading for that large door, and that whatever was behind there was not good. It was not good at all.
He waved his hands once and the doors opened.
There was a great and terrible rush of Force that knocked into me. It was so strong and terrifying, I tighten my grip on my captor, and I cling onto him for safety. My breath is knocked out of my lungs, and all at once I am facing this large entity, this massive body of darkness, the literal flesh form of all my worst nightmares.
I was reeling back in fear. My stomach was in my chest and my heart was in my mouth.
I was in front of him. The Supreme Leader. Snoke.
And he was looking at me, looking right at me with contempt, with impatience, with exasperation.
My feet were stuck on the floor and my fingers were digging into arm of the man by my side. I couldn't do anything but feel my eyes water.
I snap to look my side when my name is called out. I turn to my groom as suddenly he is pacifying me, comforting me even, "the sooner we get this done, the sooner we can leave."
I don't know how I feel about his words, I don't know how I feel about how he takes my chin in his fingers and makes me turn my body to him. I don't know how I feel when he steadies my stupid headpiece when it knocks onto his shoulder. I don't know how I feel when I follow him mindlessly, when he and I head towards his gargantuan master.
Snoke speaks the moment we are in front of him. His voice rings, it reverberates, in the hall, in my ears, in my thorax, and in the dark corner of my mind that shudders at the recognition, "you have done well, my pupil. Very well."
My eyes lock with Snoke. I evade his stare and abruptly pull away from the man on my right. He stares at me for a moment when I do so, then looks back at Snoke, "thank you, master."
Snoke grumbles, "well, remove that ridiculous thing on your head and let us begin."
I don't know whether it is because I am fearful of the evil-king before me or because I am anticipative of the face of the man behind the mask, but I turn to him with a desperation. I turn to him when he removes his helmet and my breath catches in my throat.
He tucks his helmet under his arm and looks at me with his brown eyes that glistened with something sinister behind them. He parted his lips and I noticed the scar by its side that started by his brow went far past his cheek and collar. His hair was somehow perfectly tousled even after staying inside his face cage for so long. I don't know how I felt after seeing him face to face like this.
I suck in a sharp breath when he takes my hand. He promptly begins to speak.
"I-" he turns to our joined hands as he lifts them chest level, "Kylo Ren," his eyes dart back to me, "take you-"
My skin pricks at how he whispers my name. He says it as if it were a secret, as if he meant it with reverence, as if it was solemn.
"-to be my wife."
My empress.
I suck in a sharp breath at his voice in my head. My breath picks up. My stomach rolls. Get out.
Kylo Ren rubs my knuckles, "To protect you, to honor you, to venerate you until my last breath, or even beyond."
And then he looks at me. He stares at me. He bores into my being and plunges into my soul. I feel my hands begin to shake in his hold.
Kylo Ren looks in silence and I look in fear.
I start at the harsh call of the Supreme Leader to our side, "SPEAK YOUR VOWS, GIRL!"
I screw my eyes shut and gulp. I have to get out of here. Get me out of here! My breath strains now more than ever.
Suddenly, I hear a soft voice in my head. Suddenly, I dare to open my eyes and I see a disconcerting softness in my groom's expression.
Shhhhhhh.
He hushes me in my mind. He repeats his words from earlier.
The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can leave.
I open my mouth and huff helplessly. I repeat my groom's words and tears begin to fall from my eyes.
Snoke leans back in his throne and tents his hands together, "good, good. Then by the power of the darkness, the power vested in me, The Supreme Leader, the ruler of the galaxies and all peoples," he nods his head, "two have now become one."
My shoulders rise and my heart pounds at the explosion of loud exclamations. I look around the hall and only now realize that there were hundreds of individuals, looking down at us from the balconies above.
"Long live the Emperor and Empress!"
I am at a loss for what to do next. I don't know if I want to run away or drop dead. I find myself looking to Kylo Ren. Kylo Ren, whose brows slightly furrow in his seriousness. Kylo Ren who looks up to his people and raises his hand that is clutching his helm, inspiring them to cheer even more. Kylo Ren, who then looks down at me and firmly grips my hands before leading me out of the room.
I don't know what happens after that.
I think I'm having a panic attack.
Am I having a panic attack?
Can someone even think if they're having a panic attack?
I'm not having a panic attack.
I'm not having a panic attack.
"Enough," he speaks, turning to me, clutching my cheek. Kylo Ren looks at me with knit brows while his gloved hands make me face him. My neck strains because of the weight of my headpiece. He blinks at me and slips the thing off my head. A weight is lifted off my shoulders. Very suddenly, I think I'd have preferred if he removed my head altogether. He uses his Force to bring the object away. I watch as it floats off to a dresser, beside his helmet that was already there.
All at once, I realize I was in a bedroom. I look back at Kylo in horror. Oh, fuck, I was in a bedroom.
He huffs through his nostrils, "your thoughts are as loud as sirens."
I clutch my skirt tightly and slowly begin to move back.
Kylo watches me. He tilts his head down slightly and narrows his eyes.
I swallow the lump in my throat, "so what?" I shudder, "you're going to force an heir in me now?"
He raises his nose and tilts his head to the side, "it is my duty to sire an heir."
I gulp. My breathing begins to get shorter and shorter.
I start when he steps forward. I put more distance between us.
I shiver when he calls out my name.
"Don't," I point, "don't come any closer."
Kylo Ren offers me the courtesy of stopping in his place.
I catch my breath and watch him as he brings his hands behind him. Goosebumps form on my skin when he speaks, "I have just vowed to protect you, to honor you, and to venerate you." He brings his hands to the clasp of his cloak, "I will not force you to do anything with me that you don't want."
I scoff, tightening my grip on my clothes, "and you think I wanted to marry you?!"
I tense when Kylo unfastens his cloak and folds it in front of him. I freeze in my spot in anticipation of what he's going to do next. He looks at his cloak then looks at me, "you do not understand it now, but you are the key to securing the strength the Sith, securing the Order."
A shiver runs down my spine. How can he say that so plainly?
I cannot comprehend how utterly indoctrinated this ideation is in his being. It is shocking honestly, to see up close and personal that he believes so much in his cause, that he genuinely does not see fault in this, in forcing me to marry him, in taking me by force, in destroying my camp, in laying waste to my people, on wreaking their ill-judgement to the stars.
I shake my head, "do you honestly believe I will eventually come to you with- with open arms?!"
Kylo Ren straightens his posture. I nearly trip when he walks over to me as I attempt to rush back. He raises two fingers and keeps me upright with his Force. He keeps me in place and stands before me. He leans his face close to mine, then barely opens his mouth to speak, "I do."
And then, he releases me and walks away.
I watch him as he exits the room and leaves me. The sound of the door closing is all that's left.
I begin to pant. I begin to heave in anger, in loss, in panic, in desperation. I have to get o-
I slap my hands on my mouth. I screw my eyes shut and shudder.
Silent. I have to be silent.
The next day he asked me to accompany him while he ate.
Breakfast, lunch, and dinner, he said, I should join him, so that we would both grow accustomed to each other's company during such intimate moments, and that we would also get to know each other more.
I scoffed at the idea, so much for not forcing me to do anything I don't want.
"I am not forcing you, wife," Kylo calls across the expanse of the long table.
My eyes that were idly watching my fork swirl the unknown delicacy on my plate dart to him. My shoulders tense as Kylo Ren grabs his glass and drinks from it.
I huff, "do you mind getting out of my head?" I ask though it wasn't really a question, it was a threat, as much of a threat a captive could give.
Kylo sets the object down and taps his finger on it, "if you don't want to join me..." he thinks for a moment, "you don't have to."
I straighten in my seat. I silently look out to him in challenge.
I stiffen when the pitcher begins to float and water is then poured in my cup. I clench my jaw, turning back to Kylo, finding his raised finger.
"I would prefer if you dined with me though," he says, putting the pitched back down.
I turn to my food, idly pushing it around again, "I would prefer if I dined by myself... in my-" our "-room."
I hear him exhale. I hear the contact of his cutlery on his plate, "a disappointing conclusion."
I slowly avert my eyes from my food to him. He is now focused on his own plate. He mumbles, "but I will allow it."
The next day, I am woken to eat breakfast and urged to get out of bed. I explain to servant I was allowed to eat in my room and that I don't want to eat yet. I scoff in disbelief when I am told I am meant to tour the place with the master, with that damned Kylo Ren, and is thus advised to get ready.
And so I did. I got ready and went into the dining room and interrupted his breakfast. If I can't have peace, neither can he.
Kylo turns to me and nods, "wife."
I clench my teeth, "tour me now," I huff, "I'm not hungry, so tour me now."
He turns back to his food and seemingly debates my words for a moment. He then stands from his seat and puts on his helmet, leading me out of the room. If I could burn holes onto his back with my eyes, he'd have been nothing but charcoal.
I suppose I should have given more attention to his tour than I did because knowing the place would surely benefit me when I make my attempt to esc-
"Are you certain you're not hungry?" Kylo Ren asks out of the blue as he leads me down the weapons room, "you're quite snippy and demanding. I would assume that's because you're hungry, baby bird."
I can't help but scoff at his mockery, "or, this is just how I am," I mumble, "so don't act like you know me." I aimlessly look at all the weapons on display, weapons meant to destroy others like me.
But I do know you.
I avert my gaze to him. I stiffen as I glare.
"I have been in your mind and seen the depths of your soul," he mutters, "and I know you're irritable because you're hungry."
And then he conjures up a tin-wrapped object in front of me.
"Here," he gives me the item using his Force, "you can eat this while we walk back to our chambers."
My lips curl in disgust, "is this meant to be enticing?"
He tilts his helmet clad head, "it's meant to be my lunch for later," he grabs the floating object, then my wrist, placing the silver thing on my palm.
I tense in his touch and I am glad he doesn't linger long there. I look at his would-have-been lunch then turn back to him, seeing my scowling reflection on his dumb helmet, "what an honor to know I won't be poisoned since this is apparently yours."
"It is mine," he rebuts rather impatiently.
I roll my eyes and shove it into his chest, "if you want me to be less irritable, let me go back to my chambers." I catch myself when I say this. It sounds like I want to be in that damned cage, instead of outside of this compound. I correct myself, "or better yet, let me go."
Kylo Ren places his lunch in pocket that I didn't know he had, "We will continue this tour tomorrow."
And so we did. This time, he made sure to have someone come to me after I ate.
I must say, perhaps he was partially correct in the fact I was irritable because I was hungry. I did find him more bearable today, as far as forced husbands and captors go. But then again perhaps it was because he was touring me in the biggest library I have ever seen.
I couldn't even feign disinterest as he motioned to each area of the place and explained they were arranged by planet of origin.
I was far too busy craning my neck up to see how high the bookshelves reached that I bump into one. Or at least I thought it was a bookshelf and not fucking Kylo Ren. I jolt when I look at him, firstly because we had a collision, secondly because he magically didn't have his helmet on anymore.
I reel back as he looks down at me, on I think a more figurative sense if anything.
I am immediately uncomfortable under his gaze. I mutter, "sorry."
"You have questions," he mutters. He turns to me and lifts his chin, "ask them."
I evade his stare. Don't tell me what to do.
"I'm not telling you what to do," Kylo Ren retorts after hearing my thought.
I turn back to him. I snort and grumble, "stay out of my head."
He looks up at the shelves and then looks down at me with his eyes, "a hundred layers."
I pull my head back and scoff in disbelief, "the shelves have a hundred layers?" I look over my shoulder haphazardly, "seems unnecessary hard to manage."
"Well," he brings his head down, "it hosts knowledge from peoples across over the stars. It must be capable of securing the vastness."
When I look back at him, I tense when I see he has come far too close to me. It would have been wise to pull away, perhaps to even shove him off to get my point across, but somehow, I find his proximity as a challenge. I grit my teeth and narrow my eyes at him, "undoubtedly stolen, plucked from the rubble of your destruction."
A chill rushes up my spine when he smirks at me. It remains lopsided and smug as he whispers "I don't feel the need to preserve artifacts from a race that is unable to see the glory of my purpose."
That's it. I begin to slowly step away from him.
"Do you want to know how these shelves are managed?"
"No, I really-"
I make a sound when he grabs me and locks me against his chest. Before I can even begin to fight back, I find my feet get lifted off the ground along with him. Next thing I know, I'm gasping and clinging onto him for dear life.
"Put me down," I gasp against his chest as I seal my arm tightly against him.
He chuckles as we continue to float up. He tightens his grip on me as I feel myself begin to slip. He flexes his feet and pushes them beneath mine. I look up at him as I step on his boots.
"This is how you manage them," he iterated, then motioning to his side, "or you use the ladder."
I scoff in disbelief, grabbing onto his collar, "put me down, Kylo."
He blinks at me, lips curing into a bigger smile, "alright."
He slowly bringing me down and I tense when he clutches my waist and speaks out my name.
I look away from him and watch as the floor nears. By the time it was close enough, I jump off him and walk away.
Kylo Ren watches and chuckles, "the exit is the other, baby bird."
I stop in my tracks and glare at him. He does not waste time and walks up to me. My breath hitches when he does, reeling over the look on his face. He moves past me and walks away.
I watch him as he does so, and then an idea strikes me. I debate my chances on living here and convincing the servants to get me food... a bucket-
"Don't be ridiculous. I will throw you over my shoulder if you will not follow," Kylo Ren announces. He stops in his tracks and looks over to me, "you are my empress, not my captive, even though you feel that way."
I watch him as he raises his hand to me, reaching out to me again like on the day of our wedding, except this time, I could see his eyes and is pouty lips. I huff through my nostrils and grip my fists. I walk over to him glaring at him all the way until I move past him.
Kylo watches, a glint in his eye as he does.
I hear him chuckle.
The next day, I woke up, realizing I was allowed to sleep in. That got me tremendously excited, and so I quickly began to ready myself to begin my attempts at an esca-
I slap my hand on my mouth and release a deep breath from my nostrils.
I take a few more moments and ready to exit my chambers.
The moment I'm about to exit though, I am faced with a servant. I tense at the sight of her but offer her a pinched smile, "Rezba."
Rezba nods and walks in with a tray of food, "please eat before you leave. I will be scolded if I am found to failed to feed you."
Dammit, Rezba.
I sigh, turning to my feet. I watch the woman as she walks off and sets the table. She was one of the servants that helped prepare me on my... wedding day, the one that didn't get choked. As for the one that was, I have not seen or heard from her ever since.
My conscience presses on me every time I think of this. I sigh, walking over to her. I sit down on the chair by the table and smile, "thank you, Rezba. You can go now."
Rezba nods, "as you wish, empress."
I wipe my face as he walked away. I quickly stuff my face with the food. I mean, after all, if I manage what I do, I'll need all the food I can get.
The moment I was done, I exit my chambers and head outside with purpose. I nod at the personnel that greet me and make sure to keep my mask of confidence as I make it to the launch pad.
I practically beam when I see a ship ready for the picking. But then I feel a force surge through me.
"Fuck."
My bride.
I turn over my shoulder in horror. Lo behold, the dark mask of my groom, strutting over to me with troops behind him.
"Come to visit me?" he muffles out behind his helmet.
I clench my jaw and turn to him, doing my best not to roll my eyes.
Somehow, I can see his smirk underneath as he speaks, "you didn't even change out of your nightclothes."
I let out a strangled sound as I turn to the two people behind Kylo. One had red hair and one was as clad in uniform as the Supreme Lord.
"This is General Hux and Captain Phasma," Kylo motions to the two of them.
I hum, "yes... hello," I smile without meeting my eyes, "well, now that I've... seen my husband, I'm... I'm going back to my chambers."
The two behind Kylo nod at me. I try not be so annoyed as I walk away.
Next time you plan to escape, you should probably change into something that would protect you from the harshness of space.
I grit my teeth and snap over my shoulder, "GET OUT OF MY HEAD!"
General Hux recoils at my voice. Kylo Ren chuckles under his breath.
The next day, I have no such luck of escaping at all.
"Don't you have some-" I quip over my shoulder as Kylo tails me like the dark shadow he was, "-I don't know... planet to blow up," my voice gets increasingly smaller as I say this and hear myself.
Kylo Ren, in one of the rare occurrences he did not have his helmet on, stops to look at me. He presses his lips together, "do you have a pla-"
"No!" I raise hands, "forget that I said that... please."
I turn away from him and begin to tread deeper into the halls of the library.
I hear him snort behind me, "I don't want you to continue to delude yourself into thinking escaping is an option. It would just be a waste of both our time if you do so."
I roll my eyes and shake my head, "and I don't want to delude you in thinking that I would ever stop trying to escape you."
I actually stop in my tracks when I hear him laugh out loud. I turn over to him in great offence as he then turns to me with bright eyes.
I seethe with venom, "I'm glad one of us finds this funny."
He straightens himself up and crosses his arms, "it's funny how you fail to see how alike we are."
My face drops in horror. I march over to him and point a finger at him, "we are nothing alike!"
I jolt when he grabs my wrist and pushes my hand down. The amusement in his face falters and shifts into something else, "aren't we, my empress?"
My heart begins to pound. I pull away from him and recoil.
My breathing begins to pick up as I rub my wrist.
Kylo watches me and makes up for the space between us by walking forward, "did that hurt you?"
"Does it matter if it did?" I quip.
His face softens yet his brows tighten, "it does."
I scoff.
"I am not the monster you make me out to be."
I scoff again as I continue to walk back, "oh yeah, then what ar-" I gasp when I hit something. I panic and turn, seeing it was the step ladder. I have no choice but to halt as Kylo presses nearer. I swallow the lump on my throat as I look at his face.
I will myself not to be so affected by his presence.
I clench my jaw.
My willpower is not very effective.
"I am your husband," he mutters.
I freeze when he brings his hands to my side, though he does not touch me. His eyes dart to my hands that I clutch to my chest. He releases a breath, "I want to bring order to the galaxy."
A shiver runs down my spine, "Kylo..."
His eyes lock on mine. I even my breathing.
I shake my head and knit my brows, "do you genuinely think," I speak softly with no hint of malice, "that killing billions is order?"
His jaw tightens. He drops his hands to his side, "it is an necessary stake for the greater good-"
"Greater good?!" I quip under my breath, grabbing onto his cheeks. I look at him with wide eyes as he looks at me with a similar shocked expression, "you believe razing through the stars is the greater good?"
My whole body pricks when he takes my wrists in his hands and whispers, "my love."
I suck in a sharp breath.
"You do not understand it now," he explains, shaking his head, "but everything that I am, everything that I do," his voice becomes really quiet, "is for us."
My expression drops where his softens.
"For our future," he whispers, "for our next generation and after."
"Kylo-"
"I do it because I believe in our cause," he cuts me off, "I do it because without us, the galaxy will never know anything but chaos."
My breath begins to strain.
He releases one wrist and reaches out for my face, "I will do all it takes, and give you all the time to understand this."
Mu face burns at the feel of his gloved hand. I shake my head, "why?"
"Because you are my star, my burning destiny," he mutters, "the Force brought you to me. I felt you that day on your home planet, you were so strong, you were so strong and so misguided. I tried to kill you that day, but you got away."
My eyes begin to water. I begin to relive that day in my head.
"Then I dreamt about you, I dreamt about how you escaped me and how I hated that you did. Snoke saw it. He saw you in my head. He saw your drive. He saw your weakness. He saw what you could become. And then, he said I burned because you were meant to be mine. He said our Forces were calling for each other, which was why I could not stop dreaming about you."
I begin to tremble against him.
He clutches my face with both hands, "don't be afraid. It took me a while to understand it as well, but-"
"Kylo-" I shudder, "you don't dream of me because I'm your bride, you dream of me because of him!"
He stills.
"Don't you see?" I pant, "he's manipulating you. The dark side is mani-"
"If anyone has been manipulated, it is you, baby bird," he grunts, "you were indoctrinated with beliefs that are short sighted and weak. I would not-"
He doesn't finish and turns his head to the side when a voice of a stormtrooper buzzes through the hall, "apologies for the interruption, my lord. I was tasked to escort you to the throne room, the Supreme Leader is summoning you."
Kylo Ren turns to face him. I suck in a breath as suddenly, he grabs my hand and pulls me with him as we walk past the stormtrooper, "an escort won't be necessary."
If I wasn't shaking a while ago, I surely was now, and Kylo Ren could feel it. Kylo stole looks over his shoulder. I did nothing but try to even my breath as we tread the hall.
I could feel him holding onto me with his Force, trying to contain me almost... trying to comfort me.
I tense when he releases my hand in lieu of draping his arm over my shoulder, "he will not touch you. He will not harm you," he mutters as I look up at him. He stares straight as we continue walking, "I will make it a point to keep this brief. You have nothing to worry about."
I wanted his words to comfort me, I wanted him to be able to comfort me so badly. And yet when I was face to face with his master, I couldn't even muster the courage to put my faux brave face on. He pulled away from me and pushed me behind him as he greeted the being.
"Why do you continue to disappoint me so, Kylo Ren?" Snoke inquires with a voice of disdain.
This had something to do about me, I am sure of it.
"I am doing everything you asked me," Kylo retorts rather simply.
"And I gave you a bride, yet still you have no efforts for an heir!" he accuses, "must I teach you even in the ways of the flesh, boy?!"
Kylo clenches his fist, he mumbles, "no."
"THEN DO YOUR DUTY!"
"I am making sure everything is perfect for her. She cannot bear me and heir if she is damaged or scared," Kylo retorts.
Snoke tilts his head, "and are you trying to say that has something to do with me?"
"I am SAYING-" Kylo Ren starts, raising his voice as he did. In my shock, I pull back at his cloak, not wanting to feel the wrath of his master. Not now, not ever, especially not in my dreams, not again.
Kylo holds himself back. He huffs, "I will do my duties as her husband. This isn't something for you to meddle with."
"Meddle?" Snoke scoffs but then laughs. He, in fact, laughs so hard, it echoes in the room. He catches his breath then sighs, "Fine." Snoke raises a finger and suddenly, Kylo's boots skid on the floor as he is moved away to reveal me from behind him.
I turn to Snoke, feeling my heart quicken in my ribcage.
Kylo steps back in front of me. I take his arm and hold onto it for dear life.
Snoke stares at his protégé. He tilts his head, "I expect this to change, soon. Her belly should never not be carrying an heir."
Her belly should never not be carrying an heir.
Her belly should never not be carrying an heir.
Her belly should never not be carrying an heir.
"Enough!" Kylo snaps me out of my trance. I turn to him, eyes wide, body trembling. We weren't in the throne room any more, we were in our chambers, soaked in dark retreat of it all. I had no idea when we got here. All I know was I was here with Kylo, who was clutching my face so tightly. He looks at me with something of annoyance, something of concern, "don't think about him anymore, think about me. Just think about me."
I shake my head in sheer disbelief. I push his hands away, "is that supposed to make me feel better?"
Kylo straightens.
"You," I start, "want me here for the same reason he does!"
His expression hardens.
"You and him had plagued me with nightmares for as long as I can remember," I shake my head, "the only reason, I think, I don't have them anymore is because I actually get to live my nightmares out in real life."
"So?" he quips, "what do you mean to say?"
I bite my lip, "just-" I feel my eyes water, "take what you want and... and-"
I hold my breath when Kylo grabs my chin and tilts my head up to look at him. He brings his face close to mine. His nose is barely brushing my own. I feel his hot breath on my face as he enunciates one word, "want."
I blink rapidly at the sound of his voice.
"Shhh," he hushes, "if it's Snoke you worry about, don't. I have been planning something for him, long before you even came to me. He is the least of your worries," he explains. "But do you know what I want, bride?" he asks, as though to taunt me.
I shudder. I think of replying, but I don't.
"I know what you want," he mutters. He begins to move forward, and so I have no choice but to move back as he pushes me in the direction he wants, "you want to run away from me, baby bird. You think you can break free."
His hand only leaves my chin when my calves hit the foot of the bed and I fall back, heart hammering, breath clawing at my throat. He drones, "but what I want?"
Kylo Ren undoes his gloves and undoes his belt as he towers over me.
I want to strangle your light. I want to break you so badly. I want to fucking burn you from the inside until you can only hear yourself screaming from how good it feels to finally have your wet, little c-
I slap my hands to my mouth I hear the thoughts running through his head.
Kylo stills. He tilts his head then chuckles, "so... you heard that?"
I sigh deeply, attempting to even my breath as I back away from him. I squeak when he lunges and traps me beneath him. He crushes me against his chest and pins my wrists by my head. I turn away from him as he whispers hotly against my ear, "it would be so easy to have you like this, right?"
My screw my eyes shut. Tears lace my lashes.
"You won't even fight me off, you couldn't."
I shudder when he releases one of my wrists and brings his free hand down to my thighs. I feel my body burn and tingle at his slow caress.
He kisses my jaw and my skin there is set ablaze, "you don't want to fight me off," he chuckles, "you could at least do something with your hand to save face."
When I finally remember where my free hand is, Kylo takes it back in his and lifts his head, "too late." He pushes himself up, "look at me."
I clench my jaw.
"You'll know never to make me ask for the same thing twice."
I give a shallow huff and open my eyes, looking up at him.
"I want you to beg me," he whispers, "I want you to be so desperate to finally," he begins to further pull away, "finally, take you," he knits his brows, "to make you my wife that you get on your knees and weep for it."
A shiver runs down my spine as I watch him get up from the bed and grab his gloves, "until then," he reaches his hand out and uses his Force to cover me with the sheets, "you belong to yourself."
He haunts me in my dreams that night. Not as a figure of darkness, not as a ghost, but as a man, as starving entity, ready to consume me, eager to take me.
He haunts me every night after. And every night his intentions are made clearer and clearer until I wake up and think he and I wake up and I'm shocked he's not actually there.
It became hard to look at him, especially when my stomach began to flip and my thighs involuntarily pressed together. I was turning sick.
And then one day, the news spreads like wildfire. Snoke is dead, Kylo Ren is the Supreme Leader, and I, his Supreme Empress.
It was weird. I was called Empress before and he was called Emperor before, but now, now it was real. Now I was parading with Kylo Ren in the capital, looking at citizens waving at us and throwing flowers our way. And then I was shaking strangers' hands and Kylo snarled at whomever dared embrace me a second too long.
But what really cemented our reign and the realness of it all, was when someone tried to attack me. Kylo felt the assailant before he got too close though and choked him dead in the middle of the crowd. I watched as the man's weapon fell to the ground, as he withered in pain, as he eventually stopped moving. He suffered. I knew Kylo wanted him to. The festivities were long over after that, and I was then I was reminded of who he truly was.
He was a brute. A beast. The shadow in my mind. He was-
I turn over my left as a blanket is draped over my shoulder. Kylo Ren sits beside me on the bed and offers me glass of water, "I'm sorry you had to see that."
I huff at the sound of his apology. I wrap my blanket tighter on me.
He sighs and brings the glass to the table using his Force, "I would do it again, though. You should know. I would not hesitate even a second."
I curl my legs up into my chest, "am I supposed to be grateful?"
"I would prefer if you were," he mutters.
"Kylo..."
I suck in a breath when he says his name.
"I'm- I'm too tired to argue. I want to go to sleep," I mutter, moving on the bed until I was laid down. Kylo watches me as I do this, then stands.
"Wait," I call out, surprising even myself.
Kylo stills.
No turning back now. "I... I don't want to be alone... not after that... even though you did it."
Kylo waits.
He debates my words.
I hide behind my blanket, "nevermi-"
The next thing I know, I feel him move next to me. And there, he lies.
I feel him next to me. We're under the same blanket. I feel myself begin to grow warm.
"I can get a separate blanket if you're so uncomfortable."
"Get out of my fucking thoughts."
"... ... I don't want to."
I grunt and wrap myself tightly under the blanket, surely yanking however much was on Kylo off.
"Your mind is an oasis to me."
I say nothing.
"My mind is a dessert, you are my oasis."
I huff through the sheets, "don't talk to me like that."
"Like what?"
"Like that!"
"I'm telling you what-"
"I'm done with this conversation."
I close my eyes and tighten my embrace on myself. I release a breath and try to clear my mind.
"Are you that cold?" Kylo murmers
"I'm not cold."
"I know."
"Then why did you ask?" I quip turning to him.
I freeze when I do so, instantly regretting my decision. He was lying on his side, looking at me, his face was right in front of mine and his arms were wrapped around himself. He blinks slowly as he looks at me, "I know you want to be held."
I huff through my slightly agape mouth, then I clench my jaw tightly. I move back from him cautiously, retreating into my covers, into myself.
"I can hold you," he mutters softly.
I turn away from him, feeling my body ignite.
"I want to hold you," he whispers even softer. Let me hold you.
Shut up, get out of my head.
He takes a moment before speaking again. He releases a breath, "am I that terrifying to you, baby bird?"
Yes.
"Then why do you mutter my name while you sleep?"
I tighten my arms around myself. Stop trying to get into my head.
"I'm already in your head," he retorts, voice closer now, "and in your heart."
"Shut up," I whimper.
I hear high-pitched laugh in my head. His voice surrounds me through the Force. It makes my skin raise. I'm only telling you the truth.
"Face me," he mutters, "coward."
I scoff. I heave, feeling my insides curdle. I clench my jaw then hiss, "at least I'm not a killer with no remorse."
He laughs, "you're making it seem like I should have let him attack you."
"You didn't have to kill him!" I snap, turning back to him, pushing myself up on my palms, "you could have given him a prison sentence."
"For what?!" he barks back, unravelling his crossed arms, lifting face up slightly, "so he could plan to attack you again, but next time when I'm not around to defend you?!"
"He only wanted to attack me because I'm married to you!" I hiss, sitting up from my spot.
Kylo sits up too and shakes his head, "he wanted to attack you because he thinks you're my weakness."
"Because I am your weakness!" I quip, "I'm your docile bride!"
He scoffs, grabbing my jaw, "you made yourself into this, little girl," he leans towards me. My pulse quickens as he pushes my head back, hand coming to the side of my face, fingers digging into my hair, "you where the rebel that fought against my troops and managed to escape me. The Force is strong with you," he places his other hand on the other side of my face, "that is why you are my bride."
When Kylo Ren pulls away and lies down, my insides begin to burn, to fume, and rage at his words. I watch him and I slowly begin to see red. And yet, he closes his eyes and acts like this whole conversation didn't happen. He prepares to sleep like there's nothing wrong.
This is my final straw.
I lunge at him. I dart my claws out and growl. I jump on him and press down on his throat. I straddle him and lean all my weight all my strength onto his airways. His eyes shoot open. His hands dart to my wrists. He begins to choke. I put all my anger into my grip. I force against him, knowing full well if I lost the upper hand, I'd be dead.
Except he doesn't make an move beyond clutching my wrists. I wait for him to attempt to overpower me, I wait for him to throw me off him the way I knew he could, and end all of this, and, in turn, kill me instead, but he doesn't.
He doesn't fight back.
Instead he looks up at me as his air leaves him as his face begin to turn maroon, as his veins begin to stress, as his final breaths escape his lips. And then I realize what I was doing and I pull back.
I pull back and heave in horror, wrists breaking free of his hold, hovering by my chest as I looked down at him while he caught his breath. He closes his eyes as his palms land on my thighs. My eyes water, the same way tears laced his lashes.
Why didn't he fight back?
Why isn't he fighting back?
He wanted me to kill him?
He wanted me to kill him?
I watch as his chest rises and falls beneath me. I am then suddenly aware of our position. I feel a tinge burn in my cheeks and my core. It's inexplicable, whether I am embarrassed over the fact I tried to kill him or the fact I was straddling him beneath me.
Before I can get off him though, he finally overpowers me and traps me beneath him. Easily. Swiftly. I was nothing against him. And this fact was amplified as he pins my wrists down on the pillows overhead with just one hand. He presses himself against me, heaving heavily, as if he was doing something with great restraint. It makes my stomach drop.
"That's the difference between you and I," he pants, as his one hand comes up to my neck, "if I wanted you dead, my love..." he begins to press down on my throat.
I begin to panic and thrash beneath him.
Shhhhhh.
He steadies me still in his place. I am overcome by him, unsure if it was just his physical prowess or if he was using his Force as he pushes down on me. I get a semblance of an answer when the pressure on my throat remains and I unable to move my wrists though both his hands go to the sides of my thighs.
I gulp as he leaves hot kisses all over my skin. I huff sharply when I am released of my Force bounds. My hands dart to his torso, gripping at his clothes as I try to push him away.
I would never damage you.
I let out a sound when he releases his chokehold.
Not unless you want me to.
Kylo then begins to bring his face close to mine, pressing our cheeks together for a moment. My stomach rolls and my breath hitches when his hot lips meet my mine. My heart is racing. He undoubtedly could feel it against him.
My panic rises. I quickly manage in between kisses, "Kylo-"
"Beg me," he pulls away and breathes against my ear, "beg me..." he kisses the pulse on my neck, "to get off you-- to leave you alone, to shoot myself into the sun-"
Kylo begins to rub himself between my open legs. Slowly. Roughly. I whimper. He freezes. I feel blood rise up my face. I begin to push him back harder.
He tightens his hold on me, repelling my actions by pressing his weight further onto me, "beg me to finally make you live out your fantasies," his voice loudens, "to make you mine."
I grit my teeth tightly.
"Beg me," he groans, "beg."
I whine, nails digging into his sides as I push against him.
He kisses my jaw, hands leaving my thighs, grabbing my wrists, pushing them down on my sides, "use your words. Hark to me, my baby bird."
My breath hitches, "Kylo, please."
Kylo pulls his face back, nose just above mine, looking down at me with hooded eyes. He waits for me to continue, breath straining as he did. My lips part and my feel my pulse echo in every inch of my body.
I gulp and ready to speak... but I can't. I don't. My mouth goes dry and all I could think about was how his dark locks were framing his face, and how his lips were moving as he heaved arduously, and how I wanted to find where the scar on his face ended.
Then I am ripped out of my incredulous thoughts.
"Please what?" his breath his hot against my face as he coaxes.
I close my lips and catch my breath that was leaving me, "please... stop."
"Stop what, darling?" he utters. I close my eyes when he leans his forehead against mine. He releases my wrists, hands coming to my sides, nails scratching down me until his large hands ended up on my thighs again. I squeak when his hips buck into mine with more intent.
My hands come to Kylo's neck, fingers digging into the roots of his hair.
He shifts atop me, pulling his head back up, weight all on my core, making me moan at the pressure. His nose brushes against mine. He breathes out my name. My eyes shoot open because of it.
I find his eyes are screwed shut, a line between his brows. His jaw clenches. His nostrils flare as he steadies his breathing.
"Kylo-"
"Yes," he speaks before I even finish saying his name.
His eyelids slowly part when I tug his face towards me, legs tightening around his waist, crossing over his back. He lets out a huff that bounces from my face to his. His hands rub down to my butt and there his grip tightens.
Right when our lips brush against each other, he lifts his head ever so slightly and whispers, "beg me to make you mine."
My throat tightens.
"I need to hear it," his voice is soft.
I suck in a breath and call out his name.
He releases a sharp one as he says mine.
I call out his name.
He responds with mine.
I hesitate.
He rubs his nose against mine then says quietly, "make me yours please."
I suck in a breath. My stomach explodes with butterflies. "Make... me yours," I mumble, relaxing against him, hands rubbing down his neck to his shoulders. I close my eyes and sigh, "please."
He nods, "louder."
"Kylo-"
"Louder," he mutters with a tight breath, "one last time."
"Make me yours, please."
Kylo hisses then connects his lips to mine. He moans, amplifying the hungriness of the kiss. His hands are quick and desperate as they grip at my clothing. He pushes off me and begins to strip me of all the hindrances on my being
I whimper as he eagerly does his work. One by one, he rips my clothes off. He does so with such impatience, I hear the tears and the strains of my clothes.
He sits me down as he removes each piece off me until I'm left in my panties. I wrap my arms around my bare chest. Kylo leans in, hands rubbing my bare thighs. My skin pricks because of the contact. He mutters, "your turn, my dear."
He kisses me as he grabs my hands. He pries them off my chest and ends our kiss, placing my palms at the hem of his top. He lifts his hands, eyes not leaving mine, wordlessly urging me to strip him.
I shift on my knees and pull his top off, discarding it along with the rest of my clothing that he threw on the floor. My hands instinctively come to his pants, fiddling the belt on his waist band.
He gets on his knees and grabs my face. He pulls me in for a kiss, moving closer until I'm pressed against the headboard. He guides my hands as they push his pants down.
We keep kissing until he breaks away to strip all together. I don't have time to react cause when he does, he pushes me down using his Force, and brings my legs together as to rid me of the last thing keeping me modest. I screw my eyes shut as he snatches my underwear.
Before I could feel too conscious about being naked in front of the man that was my husband, about to consummate our marriage, I let out a shaky sound as my legs are grabbed and pushed apart.
I suck in a breath as my arms fly again to my chest. They only stay there for a moment. Even that, Kylo pulls apart as he presses against me. He presses my arms down on the pillows by the sides of my head.
I am unable to conceal my cries at the feel of his hot body pressing against mine. I feel his taut stomach press against my core. It drew out another sound I could not keep in. I feel my pulse against him. I feel my wetness smear on his skin. His hands leave my arms to grab onto my thighs.
When I finally dared to open my eyes, I caught the moment Kylo sank his head onto my chest and began to suckle at the skin on my sternum.
I whimper then I bite my lip tightly. Kylo looks up at me as he takes my left breast and nips at it. He begins to rub against me.
I fist his hair into my hands. I press my head back against the pillows. Kylo's hands travel to my hipbones and digs in his fingers into me. He releases my breast and checks on his work, appreciating the mark he left of my skin before continuing to attend to my breast with his mouth.
I tighten my legs around his waist as he continues to grind down on me. I feel my heart racket behind my ribs as Kylo moves to my other breast.
"Kylo," I whimper, as my nails dig into his scalp.
He moans and releases my flesh, whispering hotly against my skin, "yes, my empress?"
I exhale through my open mouth and look at him with a dazed expression. I clutch his cheeks, "I want you-- need you-" I sigh.
Kylo lifts his body slightly, one hand releasing my hip. "To what?" he murmurs, "-need to hear you say it."
His fingers roughly draw a line from my side to my core. I gasp when he touches my aching nub. I lift my head, looking out at his hand as he looks down on me. His two digits dote on the wet heat between my legs. He slowly rubs circles on my flesh, teasing my entrance.
He holds my hips in place as a squirm beneath him. Then his hands hook by the curve of my thigh and pushes one leg up to my chest. He leans in and says, "need to what, my bride?"
I whine as my hands brush down to his shoulders. I claw at him, pulling him closer to me, "need to..." whimper, "to be made yours."
He exhales loudly. He heaves heavily as he sinks two fingers into my sopping core, slowly and firmly rubbing into me, stretching my flesh deliciously. I whine like a wraith.
"You have no idea how long I've imagined touching you like this," he admits as he toys my entrance with his fingers.
"Kylo."
He pulls his hand away and grabs my other thigh, pushing it up by my ribs.
I look at him as he brings his face close and lifts his hips. He digs his fingers into the bend of my knees and my toes curl when I feel him press against me, hard and pulsing.
I lick my lips and break into a whine when he slowly sheathes himself into me, releasing a hot breath by the crown of my head as he did so.
I whimper at the feel of him sinking in all the way. I tighten my legs around him and reach out to the sheets by my sides and rip at them.
Kylo slowly begins to rock into me, groaning as he does so, "so warm, wet and soft," he grabs my hands and places it on his back, "so soft and-" he licks my skin and bites down.
I choke on my breath as he does this. His pace thrusts hasten. He hands grab my knees and push them into my chest, "mine. All mine."
He lifts himself up and ruts into me with vigor.
Soon enough I feel my mind blur while my voice lets out incoherences at the snapping of Kylo's hips.
I claw at his back with little regard for how much it may hurt him.
Kylo howls in response, quickening his pace even more, adjusting his hold on me until his position was perfect and my head was knocking slightly into the board.
"Fill you up with me," he grunts, "fill you until you're a mess, mark you until you're tender, repeat until you're sore."
I don't respond. I don't know what to. I don't have much of a brain to speak anything anyway.
Kylo thrusts into me at such a strong and steady pace, it's not long until I feel a flurry in my stomach and a tingle in my chest.
I whine out his name. I pull him into me. He leans in and huffs against my cheek, "feels good, right? I can make you feel good."
I catch his lips into my teeth. He rip away only to kiss me as he breaks me.
We pull away to breathe yet Kylo does lose his tempo. I feel my eyes water and my mouth dry over my continuous jaw dropped cries.
"Just want to make you feel good," he whispers heavily, "want to make you mine."
"Feel so good," I mindlessly mutter, "so - Kylo."
In that next moment, I feel my insides shatter around him. I let out a loud cry of relief. My fingers curl into his back as I tighten and convulse around him. My toes curl as I lock my legs around him. Instantaneously, I feel a sharp heat splatter into me and it magnifies my delirium.
I hear him curse and whine against my ear. I feel him tighten his hold on me as he continues the work with his hips, still as quick as before.
And as I ride out my high and tighten around him, only then does Kylo's actions find some irregularity. My head no longer hits the board, though my body very much still moves up and down with Kylo's movements.
As the final ripples of my pleasure calm down, so does the knocking of our hips.
When he is satisfied, he releases my hips and grabs my face. He kisses me and catches his breath in between.
"Do you want me to get off you?" he asks.
I quickly shake my head in disagreement and wrap my arms around him.
"Good," he rests his head beside mine and slowly relaxes on top of me. He sighs and brushes his nose against my head, "I want to stay in you forever."
I bite my lip and lean my face into his.
"I will write your name in the stars," he whispers, "I will give you everything in the galaxy. All you have to do is be mine."
I gulp and sigh heavily, yet I internally find myself agreeing.
His hand rubs my side, "I hope you don't get pregnant too quickly," he kisses my head, "there's so much I have to do with you first."
3K notes · View notes
jinjeriffic · 3 months
Text
DC x DP prompt/ficlet
Throwing my hat in the ring with this idea that has been doing the zoomies in my brain for days. The Tim/Danny Accidental Ghost Marriage to Fake Dating to Friends to Lovers AU:
Pariah Dark was a piece of shit. Before his imprisonment, mortals would sometimes manage to bargain with the Ghost King for scraps of power. One of the "standard" deals was to send PD a "Bride" to play with and feed on (because I HC he feeds on fear and pain) and what better way than a little mortal battery that couldn't get away from him? The deal was sealed with a cursed amulet. Now in one instance, the contract was never fulfilled (maybe the petitioner died before he could complete his half) and the amulet was lost. After Pariah was imprisoned and couldn't make deals anymore the knowledge of the rituals needed was gradually forgotten since they didn't work anymore...
Eventually the amulet gets dug up by archeologists (maybe in Egypt or Mesopotamia?) and ends up in a traveling exhibit in Gotham. A Rogue robs the place (Riddler? Two-Face? doesn't really matter). When the Bats show up to foil the robbery, during the fight with the goons a drop of Red Robin's blood gets on the amulet, there's a blinding flash of green light and the amulet is suddenly glued to him.
While everyone is dazed by the ghostly magic flashbang, Fright Knight pops out of a portal, yoinks Red Robin across his saddle and jumps back through the portal before anyone can stop him. Cue the Bats trying to frantically figure out what in the multi-dimensional occult hell happened and where RR went?!
Meanwhile, Danny is disturbed to receive a ghostly missive in his college dorm to tell him that his Mail Order Bride has been delivered to his Ghost Zone Palace and is awaiting him so they can consummate their Unholy Matrimony.
----------------
Danny: Wtf I have to study I don't have time to get MARRIED
Fright Knight: I'm sorry my liege, but according to the laws of ghosts, gods and magic you already ARE
Danny: Wtf. How did this happen?
RR: I would like to know that too
Danny: Oh shit, you're a superhero. Frighty, you can't just kidnap people! Especially not SUPERHEROES!
RR: While that's good to hear, I would really like to know about this supposed marriage..?
FK: I am not aware of the exact details, I was merely summoned to retrieve the Bride of the Ghost King. There used to be standard magical contracts for this, which went into effect when the Bride bled on the King's Token...
RR: Shit
Danny: Hold on, PARIAH got married? Multiple times??
FK: ...but we can always consult the Royal Archivist, if we can dig him out from under the several thousand years worth of paperwork that piled up while there was no King actively ruling...
Danny: Oh ancients, am I gonna have to deal with that?? I have exams to prepare for, dude!
RR: ...the dead still have to do exams? And paperwork?? *horror*
-------------
Some time and explanations later...
Royal Archivist: It took some digging, but I believe I have found the contract in question. You are one Timothy Drake-Wayne, correct?
Tim: Fml
RA: Ahem. The contract was sealed with your mortal blood, as is standard procedure. Congratulations, you are officially King-Consort of the Infinite Realms! Until death do you part, and all that
Danny: Can I see that contract? ...This isn't in English
RA: Oh dear, looks like we will have to schedule your Royal Highness classes in reading cuneiform/hieroglyphics
Tim: Okay, does it say anywhere in that contract how to dissolve it? What's the procedure for a ghost divorce? Fright Knight mentioned the previous king being married multiple times
RA: Well usually, when Pariah tired of a consort he would simply devour their soul...
Danny: Ewwwww I am so not doing that
Tim: I concur. I can't imagine my soul would taste good anyway
Danny: That's what you took from that??
RA: ...but when you die and your soul passes into the Afterlife proper, the contract will be fulfilled. As long as you're not resurrected again.
Tim: Nuts, there goes that loophole
RA: Until then you are the Consort and duty-bound to fulfill his Royal Highness' every whim; ghostly, spiritual, carnal...
Danny: *sinks through the floor in embarrassment*
Tim: Can't he just... release me from the contract? Take the amulet off me or something?
RA: Not without obliterating your soul, no
Danny and Tim: Fuck
--------------
Some time later, while Danny is away consulting other ghosts on possible ways of dissolving the contract, they discover the nasty little clause that if Tim isn't in regular physical contact with Danny the amulet starts draining his life force. To prevent victims from escaping you see... Danny really really hates Pariah right now.
They eventually return to the mortal plane to explain to the Batfam what the hell is going on and that they're still trying to fix it. In the meantime, Danny can't miss any more classes (studying areospace engineering at MIT or sth) and Tim has to stick close to him because of the curse...
Alfred: Oh dear, looks like Master Timothy will have to go to college after all *unflappable British Smugness*
Bruce pulls a lot of strings to fast track Tim getting his high school diploma and let him attend classes with Danny (he's not officially enrolled yet, but Money, Dear Boy). They never know when Danny has to respond to a ghost emergency or Red Robin to a Bat emergency, so they stay pretty much joined at the hip in their civilian lives. Of course there's gonna be rumors. Why did the Wayne CEO suddenly drop everything to go to college? So they make up a story about Danny and Tim having been secret boyfriends for a while and Tim becoming so smitten that he moves with him to Boston...
Cue the fake dates, interviews with magazines, couple photoshoots to really sell the bit... and the two young men gradually becoming friends... and then "Feelings?? But what do I do?? He was forced into this?" etc.
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sumire-bride · 2 years
Text
SHIRO- "Would you still love me if I was a worm?"
HINOTE- "..."
"Guess I'm becoming dirt"
1 note · View note
bagopucks · 28 days
Text
J. Hughes - Mine All Mine
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✄————————————
Jack Hughes x Fem!reader
Requested✨
Word Count: 1.6k
Warning(s): Relationship insecurities, minor angst
—————————————
Nobody embodied black cat and golden retriever like Jack and I. Heart warming and full of wonder clashed in a crunchy harmony with indifference and a guarded personality. Jack had an innocence that made him special. I sometimes wondered just how blind he was to the cruelties of the world, but I never dared to ruin that part of him. I envied Jack in only the way a girlfriend could. I wished I could see the world the way he did, and yet I knew I never would. My mind had been tainted by past and present. By reality and technology. While Jack seemed so perfectly protected from the atrocities of life, I seemed to always encounter them.
I saw Jack as an angel. Heaven sent. Myself? I was merely a tainted soul who’d gotten lost on the way to hell. My darkness made his light all the more prominent.
“I love that movie!” His loud voice carried across the venue. I peered over my glass of wine toward a table full of seated men and women. Jack was always so social. Especially at parties. Despite my love for weddings, I was not as outwardly jovial. I had a subtle adoration for things. A solemn love. I liked to sit and observe, and enjoy things alone. At least that was the way I had been before Jack. He was one of the only people who had ever been able to breach my walls.
People often told Jack he was too loud, how amusing was it that I was one of the only people who loved his volume. His expressiveness.
Though I did not crack a smile, my eyes lingered. And my heart thudded. Jack looked amazing. I prayed for the day that we too could be like the couple sitting alone enjoying a meal with fresh rings on their fingers, preparing to lay up our treasures together in our new home. My eyes locked with the woman next to Jesper. Our lingering gazes broke when her lips parted, and the distain in the woman’s expression spoke volumes despite her whispers.
I was not blind to the general disliking people took to me. Nobody ever understood how Jack and I were together, or how we worked. People were open about their disinterest in our relationship. A disrespectful and hurtful thing in many ways. But I had never been one to express my pain that others inflicted. I understood their concern, and yet it hurt all the same.
In truth, I too questioned my relationship with Jack. I feared I brought him down. I feared being with him did the exact opposite of what I swore to do when I chose to love him. I feared I held his wonder back.
I watched the woman’s distain shift into disgust. Jack seemed to reply to her words, but I could barely focus on him when she looked so… displeased. My heart sank. People often said I did not try hard enough to make Jack happy, and that was an easy factor to believe if nobody ever saw us in private. Though at first I used to scoff and roll my eyes, the more it was said, the more I began to believe.
I lost interest in the expensive wine I held, placing the glass down harder than I expected on the table. Maroon liquid rained down stop the white tablecloth. Smoothing out the wrinkles in my dress before I stood, I drew in a steadying breath. I needed a break from the party.
I found my way to the back of the large venue, pushing open one of the doors into the hallway. A cold gust of air hit my bare shoulders, causing me to shiver. The crowd inside the reception hall had made the room fairly hot. I did not expect the major temperature change.
My pace slowed as I found myself in a safer space, out of the vision of prying gazes. I strolled down the hall, my eyes settling on the strings of photos of the bride and groom. I envied how wide the bride seemed to make the groom smile in every photo. I never had that effect on Jack. I was not hilarious or quick witted. I had no great jokes, and even my accidents were never humorous. Of course Jack would argue, but I never agreed with him. Was I everything Jack needed? Or was everyone right? My heart hurt at the idea. Was I holding Jack back? Another shiver caused my hands to wrap around my own body. I rubbed my arms in hopes of warming up, my eyes locking on a photo of the beautiful couple at the last All Stars red carpet. Even in public, the bride could put on a show. Emotional loneliness quickly snuck up on me. Jack never had to worry about being unfulfilling in our relationship. Nobody questioned if he was doing enough. Nobody judged him. He didn’t understand. Nobody did.
“It’s freezing out here.” The loneliness only deepened at the sound of his voice. I was so enveloped in my own mind that I didn’t truly register Jack’s presence until he was draping his suit jacket over my shoulders, and wrapping his arms around my frame. I leaned into his chest, instinctually.
“Did I tell you how beautiful you are tonight?” Jack always knew how to settle in my presence. As much as I loved his loud and energetic side, I loved his quiet and sweet side even more. Jack surprised me with how intimate he could make almost any situation. Even this, standing together in solemn silence, feet away from a room full of people.
“Jack,” I spoke in return, turning my head to rest my cheek on his shoulder.
“I know.” He whispered. “I always know.” He didn’t always have the right things to say, but Id give him credit for knowing what to say about 90% of the time. I stood silently in his arms, uncertain of how to respond. How to open up. “Jesper’s girlfriend doesn’t know shit.” He broke the silence, “She doesn’t know you.” Addressing the topic never seemed to make it better. At least not in the moment. Tears threatened to ruin my maskera. “It’s just talk. That’s all it ever is. They don’t know you.” His grip tightened on me, and I shook my head. I would never see myself the way Jack saw me.
“What if everybody’s right? What if you’re just blind to my flaws because you think you love me?” I whispered, averting my gaze to the ceiling in a feeble attempt to avoid shedding any tears.
“Baby, I’m not blind to your flaws. I know you have ‘em, and I love every single one. But don’t you ever think that your personality is a flaw.” I tensed as Jack’s arms released me from their grip, but I allowed him to spin me around so we could stand face to face. His warm hand gently cupped my jaw, and I found myself yearning to be perfect for him. Wishing that I could be more deserving of the man in front of myself.
“Everybody tells me I’m too loud, and everybody tells you that you’re too quiet. We just balance each other out, eh?” He flashed a tiny grin in my direction. “There’s always gonna be haters, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that I love you.” I finally mustered the ghost of a smile, blinking to try and rid of the tears quickly.
“Even when I’m antisocial?” I prodded softly, maybe to boost my own ego. I reached upwards to wipe my tears, only for Jack to grab my hand and wipe them for me.
“Your silence is so hot.” I found amusement in his words, as well as embarrassment. I felt heat rise to my cheeks as an involuntary laugh parted my lips. “There’s my girl.” Jack brushed a lock of hair behind my ear, leaning in to kiss my cheek. “Proving everybody wrong one grin at a time.” The brunette grabbed ahold of my other hand, taking a backwards step and urging me to follow with a gentle tug. “Come dance with me. Please. I’ve wanted to get you in my arms all night.”
How could a woman feel any more wanted?
“Let me love you, please.”
How could a woman say no?
“My love..” I whispered, reluctant to move.
“In front of everyone else.” Jack insisted. “I want them to know I’m happy.” His words took the breath from my lips. The tears returned, but for more positive reasons.
“You’re happy,” I echoed as a gentle reminder to myself.
“I’ve never been happier.” I finally relented, moving along with Jack back through the hallway. Alongside him, I felt much less anxious about being observed by the crowd. I avoided their gazes as we entered the reception hall once more, hand in hand. Jack led me effortlessly toward the dance floor, at a steady but comfortable pace. I refused to allow my eyes to leave his frame, even as he pulled me into the middle of the floor, enveloping me in his arms all over again. The embrace was warm and safe. I rested my head against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat as he slowly began to sway. I allowed his movements to shift my own body, closing my eyes to take it all in.
“Fuck ‘em all.. yeah?” Jack whispered in my ear. I chuckled.
“I like that.”
✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾
454 notes · View notes
fadedncity · 6 months
Text
mask off
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wc: 2.5k
pairing: jisung x fem!reader
cw: smut, bf!jisung, non idol au, mentions of other idols, semi public sex, knife play, role play, fingering, choking, manhandling, praise and degradation kink, pet names, teasing, unprotected sex, mentions of alcohol consumption and use of marijuana, horror movie references
a/n: not really relevant but thought i’d clarify reader is dressed as tiffany valentine from bride of chucky.
You checked your phone for what seems like the fifth time in the last ten minutes. Nervously gnawing on your bottom lip, you rechecked your call log to make sure you didn't miss one from him.
You sigh, locking your phone, and look over the balcony. Scanning the crowd below you, taking over Ningning's backyard, you search for Jisung. But you knew it would be no use between there being too many people and you not knowing what he was dressed as.
It wasn't until your eyes stopped on one person.
The Ghostface mask had initially caught your attention and caused you to do a double take, as it's surprisingly the first and only you've seen tonight. But you also realize they're looking back at you. With everyone else too intoxicated to notice you even up on the balcony, they were the only one looking up at you.
The masked individual doesn't do or say anything, remaining still as the party carries on around them. You straighten up when a bit of paranoia creeps up your spine.
Just as you start retrieving back into the house, you jump at the sound of a knock on the balcony door and snap your head in its direction.
"Hey," Yunjin slides the door shut behind her, joining you outside, "you okay?" she asks.
You peer back over the balcony and no longer see this Ghostface anywhere outside.
"Yeah, I'm fine," you tell her, also telling yourself it was nothing, "Have you seen Jisung? He was supposed to be here a while ago but I haven't heard from him and his phone's probably on do not disturb again."
"No, but Alyssa said she just saw Michael Myers, Freddy Krueger, and Ghostface pull up, pretty sure it was Chenle, Jisung, and Yangyang. So he's probably just around here somewhere."
"Alright," you say, heading back inside.
"We're about to smoke if you wanna join us, by the way."
"Let me head to the bathroom first."
"You need me to come with?" Yunjin asks.
"Nah, I won't be long. Just make sure Hyuck doesn't leave me with just the roach," you say.
. . .
You were humming along to the melody of the song you could hear playing outside of the bathroom as you reapplied your lipstick.
Your phone buzzed on the countertop with a text from Yunjin telling you to hurry up before you miss the cyph. You take one last look in the mirror, making sure your hair remains intact in its updo before collecting yourself and heading out.
Since you were looking down at your phone as you exited the bathroom, you didn't realize someone was standing in the corridor. 
When you do finally notice them, you almost jump out of your skin, having been unaware of your surroundings. 
"Holy fuck," you hold your hand over your rapidly beating heart. 
With the poor lighting, you can barely make out the face of the robed figure until they take a step closer, and you see the Ghostface mask.
"Jisung?" you call out to him, "First you can't text me back, then you go and scare me half to death?" you laugh.
He still didn't say anything, just silently standing there, the soulless black eyes of the mask staring back at you. His gloved hands reach into the pockets of his jeans, revealing the knife.
You were almost positive that it was Jisung, for sure, once you saw the familiar blade. 
Again, you laugh, "We're really doing this? 'Please, Mr. Ghostface, don't kill me. I wanna be in the sequel.'" you joke.
He remained quiet, your recital of Tatum's last words in the movie, seemingly falling on deaf ears.
"Is everything okay?" you ask.
Still no response. He tilted his head and took a step forward.
"Alright, babe, you're starting to scare me," you say, backing away from him while clutching your phone.
He was backing you back toward the bathroom, and you were running out of room to go.
"Jisung, seriously, you're freaking me the fuck out," you say once your back hits the door. The space between you gets smaller and smaller, with you nowhere left to go.
Is it even really Jisung? 
You're breathing so heavily, that every time you inhale, your chest hits his as his face inches closer to yours.
"Boo!"
Your anxiety dissipates once you hear the switchblade click shut, and Jisung drops his hood, pulling the mask from over his head. He's laughing, so you punch him in the shoulder.
"Ow!" Jisung rubs his arm.
"Fuck you! That wasn't funny," you say.
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry." Jisung holds your waist, "but it was almost too perfect of a chance I had to take." he says, and you cross your arms over your chest. "Come on, if I really was some serial killer you think I'd do it in a house full of witnesses."
"Have you learned nothing from the movies?" you furrow your brows.
"All I'm saying is if I really was Ghostface…" he takes out the voice modulator, holding it up to his mouth, "I'd give you a better death than just bleeding out in some dark hallway."
Heat pooled in your lower stomach, and your breathing became shallow. You're embarrassed to admit how much hearing Jisung's voice through the modifier turned you on. 
"How thoughtful," your lashes flutter, "But I'm pretty sure I'd be able to take you as Ghostface."
"You weren't putting up much of a fight five seconds ago."
"Who said anything about taking you in a fight?"
"Oh?" he raises a brow, "Is that so?"
Jisung opens the bathroom door behind you, pushing you inside the confined space. Once he locks the door shut, he connects his lips to yours. He lifts you by your waist, settling you on the countertop, and you wrap your legs around his hips.
You roughly fist Jisung's hair, the kiss quickly becoming heated. His hands are all over you, sending goosebumps all over your skin. Jisung's tongue slips into your mouth, tasting the lingering bitterness of smoke from your last hit a while ago, mixing with the drink he had before finding you still on his lips.
One of his hands find their way between your legs, swiping his fingers over your clothed pussy. You shutter, attempting to close your legs around his hand to keep him there. Even through his gloves, he can tell you're already soaked through your panties and smirks at you.
"What's got you this wet, Ms. Valentine?"
"You, Ji," you answer. 
"All me for me huh?" he asks, and your brows furrow in confusion, "You sure it wasn't Ghostface who's got you this wet?"
Oh, shit. 
"I uh-"
"After making me watch all six movies on only our second date, I didn't really think much of it," he says, and you sheepishly laugh, "But it all started to make sense when I overheard you on the phone with Chaeryeong the other day…" Jisung trails off, hoping you'd catch on.
And you do, gasping with wide eyes, "Oh my god, no you didn't."
"I kinda did."
You groan, covering your face, "I didn't say anything because I didn't want you to think I was weird."
"Hate to break it to you, but I already thought that," he says lightheartedly.
"Jisung," you whine out of embarrassment.
"There's nothing to be embarrassed about, baby. I just don't know why you didn't say anything to me before," he softly pouts.
"And how exactly did you want me to go about that? 'Hey, babe, how was your day? By the way, I have this twisted fantasy of being railed by Ghostface. Wanna grab dinner?'" you question.
"Obviously not like that," Jisung scoffs, "I'm just saying, as your boyfriend, I'm more than happy to turn this twisted fantasy into a reality for you," he smiles at you, "Do you trust me?"
"With my life," you nod.
"Then would you allow me the honor?"
"The honor's all yours."
You snake your arms around Jisung's neck as he crashes his lips into yours. He brings his lips to your neck, suckling the skin between his teeth, leaving small bruises along your throat.
"You know this is almost always exactly how it goes in horror movies," you comment and you tip your head back, giving him more access.
"Oh my god," Jisung rolls his eyes, "Look if you don't wanna-" Jisung jokingly reaches for the doorknob.
"No, no," you keep your legs locked around him, "If I'm to die tonight, right here with you is where I'd wanna be," you kiss him.
"Can't think of anywhere else I'd wanna be. Now are you gonna keep talking about death or let me fuck you?" Jisung pulls you back onto your feet, turning you around to face the mirror.
"I'm not the only eager one here, I see," you push your ass into his groin.
"As much as I'd love to stay here and play with you all night, princess, we've already been gone for too long and the search party will come looking soon," he says before pulling a glove off with his teeth.
Jisung rolls the leather of your dress up over your hips and slides his hand between your legs. He pulls your panties to the side and slips a finger into your pussy.
"God, you're fucking soaked already," Jisung says, adding a second finger, causing your eyes to flutter shut, "This shit really does turn you on," a lopsided grin takes place on his face before his fingers leave you empty.
You grumble, frustrated. "Fuck off-"
"I'd watch your tone, sweetness," he held the knife to your throat. "Wouldn't wanna lose that pretty voice of yours."
It was then, you realized he pulled the mask back down over his head. You felt the edge of the knife press against your esophagus. If you hadn't previously been in this position with your boyfriend a number of times before, one would think you'd be worried, maybe even a little scared. But no, you were now beyond the point of being turned on, your body practically boiling with arousal.  
"Please, don't," you plead, "I'll do anything," you turn your head to look at him and bat your lashes.
"Anything, huh?"
"Anything," you nod.
Jisung began tracing the knife edge along your chest, "With a pretty thing like you, I'm sure I can think of a few other things to do with you."
In one quick motion, he drops the knife to his other hand, and you hear the sound of fabric ripping as he slices your panties and pulls it from your body.
And there goes the third pair this month. 
But you could care less about your tattered underwear, now discarded on the tiled floor, once you hear the zipper of his jeans coming undone. Jisung wastes no more time and lines his cock up with your entrance. You sharply inhale, feeling his thick length open you up.
"Oh my god," your voice was barely above a whisper.
"Is that what you wanted?" he asked in your ear, "Let me use you however I want for the sake of saving your pretty little life."
You manage to open your eyes and look at your reflection. The sight of the mask behind you as his cock is buried balls deep inside of you, flooded you with more arousal, your walls fluttering around his dick.
Your response was interrupted by the moan bubbling up your throat, but Jisung saw the smile breaking out on your face.
"Y-Yes," you nod, "God—please…fuck me."
"See how easy it is to get to what you want when you just use your words," you hear the smirk on his voice, "Gonna take it all for me like a good girl, yeah?"
You nod with a gasp, your nails scratching against the marble countertop as Jisung's cock stretches you open, bottoming out. "Mhm! I'll be good. I'll be so good for you, I promise."
Jisung draws his hips back before slamming back into you, filling you to the hilt. He grabs onto your hips, pulling you back onto his cock. Your ass slaps against his pelvis each time he fills you up, picking up momentum and fucking you at a steady pace.
Loud moans and cries along with Jisung's name tumbled hazardously from your lips. Jisung's gloved hand covers your mouth, muffling your noises.
"God, you're such a whiny slut," he says, "Pathetically crying out like a bitch in heat."
You whine, seemingly struggling against his hold as you grew flustered at his words.
"No need to try and deny it, sweets. I've had my eyes on you long enough to know, this is the exact moment you've been having wet dreams of," Jisung's strong arms securely hold you against his chest, "What would that cute boyfriend of yours think if he were to see you like this? Letting me use you however I please and not being able to do anything to stop me." he darkly chuckles.
It turns you on even more knowing Jisung is just as into this as you are.
"God…you're sick," you pant.
"You're the one who's letting a dangerous killer fuck you, and I'm the sick one?"
"Fuck you," you spit.
Jisung's hand wraps around your neck, lightly squeezing down on the sides.
"Fuck me, huh. You're doing a great job at doing so already, princess," the roughness of his voice through the modulator had your head spinning or maybe it was the limited oxygen you were granted as his hand was still around your neck. Either way you could feel yourself stumbling closer to the edge.
You slip up and call out your boyfriend's name. "Ji, oh god, mhm—it's so good, oh my god!" you threw your head back.
"That's it, baby. You're doing so good for me."
"Feels so good—fuck, Sungie," Your back arched as you attempted to move your hips and began fucking yourself back on his cock.
Jisung was drunk off you—Every whimper and whine he pulled from you as he bent you over the sink, fucking you relentlessly. And the way your body writhed and squirmed against him, the intense pleasure flooding your veins as his tip kissed your sweet spot.
"Look at yourself," he grabbed your jaw, making you look into the mirror "If only everyone else could see how badly I've ruined you, precious."
Your mouth hangs open, nothing coming out except for broken moans. But there's a drunken smile on your face.
"Sungie, please," you whimper.
Jisung brings his hand back your throat, but without applying pressure this time. "You close, pretty?" Jisung asks, and you ferociously nod.
"Wanna cum for you," you whine, "Please, baby," your voice cracked with desperation.
"Cute how desperate you can get. It's almost pathetic."
"Jisung, oh my god-"
You reach behind you and grab the back of his head. Jisung feels the mask being pulled off his head, allowing you to drop it to the floor. Messy black locks flopped over his forehead as his eyes readjusted to the lighting. Fisting your hand in his hair, you bring his lips to yours, meeting in a desperate and sloppy kiss.
Jisung feels the knot inside him ready to snap but holds back as his hand returns between your thighs. He rubs sloppy circles into your clit, and you squirm in his arms, trying desperately to chase your release.
"Come on, sweetheart. I wanna hear you scream for me."
You see stars behind your eyes as a moan rips from your throat, bouncing off every surface in the small space. Your body shakes in Jisung's arms as you cum. His cock throbs, his release finally coming when your pussy chokes his dick, and he paints your walls white.
"Fuck," Jisung rasps in your ear. He grabs onto the edge of the sink, fucking his cum into you as you squirm, feeling overstimulated.
You fall back against his chest, resting your head on his shoulder, "That was fucking amazing," you heavily pant against his skin as you place a kiss below his jaw.
"Yeah?" he caresses your face.
"I don't think I've ever cum that hard in my life."
"I aim to please you, very very well," he kissed your forehead before slipping out of your heat. You mewl, feeling his fingers brush your folds, collecting his cum as it starts to drip out of you.
"I'm gonna be thinking about this for the next few months, by the way."
"Then I guess there's no need to get rid of the mask after tonight," Jisung smirks, picking the mask up from the ground.
You smile against his lips, "Definitely not."
a/n: uhh this was very self indulgent and lowkey inspired by this. thank you for reading!! feedback is appreciated <33
757 notes · View notes
thebadgerclan · 1 year
Text
Misinformed
Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x reader
Summary: You had no idea it was meant to feel good...
Smut!
The ceremony had been lovely, the reception had lasted into the early hours of the morning, and through it all, Nikolai hadn’t left your side once.  Nikolai Lantsov, your new husband, the man you’d fallen hard and fast for, the man who had proved his love and devotion to you dozens of times over.  Your marriage was a love match, a true fairy tale: you, the daughter of a Count, presented to court to make a good marriage, had caught the eye of the King, sealing your and your family’s positions forevermore.
And you loved him, oh, how you loved him!  Of course you’d have said yes to his proposal, what fool would reject marriage to a King?  But when Nikolai asked for your hand, you said yes not because of the rise in station, not because of the boon it would grant your family, but because you were irrevocably in love with Nikolai Lantsov.  And now you were Queen, elevated above all others, but you would have said “yes” if he were a simple farmer.
Your husband kept your hand clasped in his as he led you from the ballroom, a giddy smile on his face.  When the two of you were sequestered in your chambers, Nikolai pulled you into his arms and kissed you deeply, your body pressed flush to his.  “I love you,” he said against your lips.  “My Y/N, my Queen, my bride, I love you.”  It was all you could do to remain upright as he kissed you, dizzy from his affections.
As Nikolai’s hands traveled to the lacings of your gown, you began to feel warm, and when his lips tracked down to your jaw and neck, you felt your stomach twist.  All Saints, please don’t let me be sick on my wedding night, you thought.  You were an educated lady, you knew what was to happen tonight, but that didn’t mean you weren’t nervous.  And the advice your mother had given you had been… less than helpful.
“You must lie back and endure it,” she’d said.  “But do not worry.  Your Nikolai is a good man, I do not think he will drag it out longer than he must.”  Her words filled your head, but you did your best to focus on the man in your arms, the man who was kissing his way down your neck and tugging at your dress.  “Can I take this off, lovely?” Nikolai asked, and you whispered a “yes.”
Your gown soon laid on the floor in a heap of golden silk and tulle, and Nikolai groaned at the sight before him.  You’d been dressed in a sheer slip beneath your wedding dress, your body plainly visible beneath.  “Saints, look at you,” your husband said, raking his gaze over you.  “You’re so beautiful, Y/N.”  You felt your face flush, and Nikolai hurriedly stripped himself.  When he was naked, he took you in his arms once more, gently leading you to the bed.
He continued to kiss you, and the odd warm, tingling feeling in your belly continued to grow.  “Can I touch you?” Nikolai asked, and you nodded.  It was expected of you, that’s what your mother had said, it will be over soon.  Your husband trailed a hand down your side, and it felt like fire was left in the wake of his hand.  His lips were still on your neck, and slowly, Nikolai brought a hand between your legs.  When his fingers made contact, you let out a moan, a shuddering, breathy moan, and your eyes went wide.
“W-what was that?”  Immediately, Nikolai pulled away, looking at you with slight confusion.  “What was what, darling?”  “That feeling?  What was that?”  “When I touched you?”  “Yes!”  You were breathing hard, but your husband saw that you weren’t aroused, no, you were frightened.  Clearly, you’d been misinformed about tonight, or worse, not informed at all.  Nikolai rose from the bed and retrieved a dressing gown–his dressing gown–and draped it over your shoulders, sitting at your side and covering himself with the sheets.
“Y/N, sweetheart,” he said, reaching out to take your hand.  “What…did anyone tell you what would happen tonight?”  Nikolai knew that your family held more conservative views, that you likely hadn’t been taught what sex was until just before your wedding, and he needed to be absolutely certain of what you knew.  You shook your head.  “No…well, not really.”  He squeezed your hand, encouraging you to continue.
“Most of what I know about sex, I taught myself.  I snuck into my father’s library and found books on anatomy.  My mother certainly never told me anything.  I know what sex is, and I know that it's how women have children, but when my mother pulled me aside tonight, she told me…”  You hesitated, and Nikolai squeezed your hand again.  “She told me that I must ‘lie back and endure it’.  That you’re a good man and won’t drag it out.  But Nikolai, when you kissed me, when you touched me, I felt…Saints, I felt hot, and when you touched me…there, it felt…”
You were blushing fiercely, and your husband leaned to kiss your cheek.  “Did it feel good, darling?” he asked, and you nodded.  “It’s supposed to, my love.  Sex, making love, it’s supposed to feel good.  Yes, it’s primary purpose is to have children, but people do it because it’s enjoyable.”  When you looked at your husband, your brows were raised.  “It is?”  “Yes, sweet love, it is.  And, if you want me to, I will show you just how good a man can make his wife feel.”
For a moment you were silent, and Nikolai didn’t press.  “When I felt warm earlier…”  “You were aroused, my love.  And that’s perfectly normal.”  Rather than say anything, you rose to your knees and pressed your lips to his, wrapping your arms around his neck.  “I want you to show me,” you whispered, letting his dressing gown slide from your shoulders.  “You do?”  “Yes.  I trust you, Nikolai.”  Your husband smiled and deepened the kiss, gently pushing you back to lay down.
“If you want to stop, just tell me,” he whispered, and resumed his kissing down your body.  The warm, tingly feeling was back, but you let it wash over you, knowing it was your beloved causing it.  “I don’t want you holding back those pretty noises,” Nikolai said, coming to lie at your side, one arm around you.  “Let me hear you.”  This time, when he touched you, you didn’t bite back the moan that left your lips, and Nikolai smiled.
“That’s it, lovely,” he praised, gently rubbing at your clit.  “Just feel it.”  In mere minutes, you were breathless, and Nikolai was kissing you, whispering praises of your beauty against your skin.  “I’m going to put my fingers inside you,” he said.  “Tell me if anything hurts.”  You nodded, and your husband slowly pressed a finger into you, thrusting it shallowly.  After several minutes, he added a second, and when he bent his fingers, you let out a loud moan, bucking your hips against his palm.
“There it is,” he said, lowering his lips to yours, kissing you deeply.  Pure bliss filled your body, pleasure that you’d never imagined, and soon, that pleasure was building into a wave that demanded to crest.   “Nikolai,” you panted.  “Nikolai, I… Saints, I–”  “Shh, I know, honey.  Just let it happen.  Come for me.”  His words were punctuated with a press of his fingers against your clit, and the wave crested.  You were moaning your husband’s name, your eyes rolling back in your head, and when you opened them, he was smiling softly at you.
“Did that feel good, angel?”  You nodded, and Nikolai slowly withdrew his fingers from your body and moved to kneel between your still spread legs.  His cock was hard and aching, and your eyes went wide.  “It won’t hurt for too long,” he vowed.  “And just for a moment.  Do you want to keep going?”  “Yes,” you breathed, reaching out for him.  “Nikolai, please, I need you.”
Your husband chuckled as he took himself in hand, aligning the head of his cock with your cunt.  “It’s alright, darling.  You don’t have to beg.  Not this time, anyway.”  Nikolai pressed a delicate kiss to your forehead as he slowly entered you, pausing when you whimpered.  “I know, darling, I’m sorry.  It won’t hurt like this every time, just the first time, I promise.”  You nodded, keeping your eyes on his hazel ones, focusing on the love there.
Slowly, Nikolai pressed forward until he was completely within you, and he let out a shaking breath. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he said, and you tilted your chin to kiss him.  When you were ready, he began thrusting gently, keeping his motions slow and shallow, not wanting to overwhelm you.  “Nikolai,” you sighed, threading your hands through his hair.  “Nikolai, I…”  “Tell me, sweetheart.”
“It feels so good!”  He couldn’t help the smug pride that washed over him; he was the only man who had ever, who would ever, make you feel this way.  “I know, Y/N, I can feel you squeezing around me.”  Your husband sped up, just a bit, pulling a bit further out of you with each thrust.  He kept one hand cupping your cheek, the other trailing over your body, squeezing your breasts and kneading at your hips.  When he rubbed your clit, you bucked against him, causing him to moan.
“I love you, Y/N,” Nikolai managed, already close.  “I love you so much, my perfect wife.”  His thrusts had sped up a bit more, but you felt no discomfort.  No, you felt more pleasure than you ever could have imagined.  “Nikolai, Kolya, I…I’m…”  “I know, sweetheart.  I’m close too.  Come when you’re ready, darling.”  It didn’t take much longer, and when you came with a cry of your husband’s name, that was more than enough to push him over the edge too.
Nikolai pulled out of you, making you whine, and rolled onto his side, tugging you greedily into his arms.  “I love you,” he said, pulling the sheets over the two of you.  “I love you, I love you, I love you, I–oh.”  Your husband rolled over, reaching for something on his nightstand, and you furrowed a brow.  “Here,” he said, handing you a corked vial.  “Alkemi contraceptive.  If you don’t want any little Lantsovs just yet.”
You laughed softly and drank the contraceptive, handing the empty vial to Nikolai.  “Not quite yet,” you said, snuggling back into his arms.  “As my Queen commands.”  For a while, the two of you laid in silence, trading lazy kisses and soft smiles.  “I had no idea,” you said after a few minutes.  “That it could be so good.”  Nikolai smiled, kissing you sweetly.  “I will always make you feel good, my love.  I have so much to show you.”  The remainder of the night was spent with your darling husband showing you just how pleasurable love making should be, and when the servants entered to find their Queen seated on their King’s face, they kindly informed the rest of the staff to avoid the royal chambers for the day.
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luveline · 6 months
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HIIIIII! I’m so obsessed with you and this series but If it fits into the storyline maybe could we get something where princess hasn’t been seen or heard from all day and the whole castle is gossiping that she ran away and Prince Steve hasn’t been able to pull away from his duties to find her but he eventually does. Kinda vague but I know if you do this you’ll write it better than I could ever explain it lol 💖💖
thank you so much! ♡ prince steve au fem, 1.3k
Steve is in his politics class when he hears the first whisper. There are many awful things that come with being the future inheritor of an entire kingdom, and the very worst in his opinion is having to know the politics of the surrounding kingdoms, cities, islands, island kingdoms and their cities. It's exhausting.  
And what cruel torture is this? His mother and father insist he needs to find his soulmate before he turns twenty four, but when he does find you he's not actually allowed to spend time with you. You're locked away like a sick fairytale and Steve spends hours at a time wondering what you're doing, what you're thinking, if you've been eating properly. He went from knowing nothing about you to not enough. 
Your name is like a lime spotlight. He hears it and he perks up, a trained dog, looking out of the corner of his eye at two service maids changing the eucalyptus sconces. 
"I heard she tried to leave a few days ago and got caught. If I were Y/N I'd never walk again, let alone run away. I'd have someone bring me a pot to piss in–" 
"Shush!" the second maid laughs. "What if someone heard us?" 
They're lucky the others in the room are distracted, less lucky that Steve is a moth to your flame. 
"Wherever she is, I hope she doesn't come back. Prince Steven doesn't flirt with us anymore, it's depressing. Do you think my tabard makes me look fat?" 
Wherever she is? Where are you? 
Steve starts to stand and gets forcibly sat back down by his tutor. "Don't make me hit you with the stick, Steven," he says, his teasing lost to a permanent monotone drawl. 
It continues more of the same but in different places. He hears possible locations at fencing practice, motives between sickening spoonfuls of pot pie and biscuits he can't stomach. Guardsmen talk of you in alcoves and the seamstresses whisper it between pins held in their lips, until finally Steve's had enough. 
"What use is fitting me for my suit if the bride's run away?" he asks, pulling pins from his thighs. "This is ridiculous. I'm done." 
He scrambles into his clothes and shoes. He's buttoning his shirt in the middle of a wide hallway when Robin appears. "Public indecency, nice." 
"This is my house." 
"No need to brag." She offers her hands to take his jacket so he can button faster. "You know your princess is missing, right?"
"Where have you been all day?" he asks. 
"Where do you think? I've been looking for her. Safe to say she's not in the Palace. Where did you say she lived before this?" 
"I… don't know." 
"Useless. We've no hopes of retrieving her then, unless you want to put out a mandate for her return." 
"Stop talking like that," Steve says, scrubbing his jaw tiredly. "I know where she is, I think. You can't come with me." 
"Why?" 
"It's a secret." 
"You can't leave the Palace without me. Do you know how close I was to getting fired last week?" 
You and Steve snuck out before dawn to explore the city together, and to finally get to know one another for a chunk of time. It wasn't enough, but it was a good start. Steve told you a few secrets, and it's about to come in handy.
"Good thing it's not outside of the Palace, then," he says, grinning at Robin mischievously as he takes his jacket from her, turning to walk backwards and steadily away. "Stay here."
"I'll find your dumb hiding place!" she calls after him. 
Steve shrugs into his jacket and descends the stairs. It took him years of being constantly watched to evade the eye, and if you've successfully secluded yourself where he thinks, you're a natural royal. Steve slips down another set of marble stairs, through a hallway, into one of the many intricate drawing rooms, to finally slip unseen behind an ornate oil portrait of his great great great grandma. 
He finds you sleeping in his den. The walls are tacked with teenage dreams, the floor littered with books he had good intentions of reading. You're curled on your side on the cot, the rinds of blood oranges at your chest and your lips stained mildly red from eating them. There's barely any light in this secret room; Steve can't stay here long without getting claustrophobic, but he needs to come here sometimes or he ends up feeling a different kind of trapped. 
He turns the latch of the oil lamp and lights a match. When he touches the red head of it to the lamp's dish, blue, green, and hyacinth-purple light sprays the walls and your snoozing face. Cutout stars remain, the shade of your skin left alone. 
He resists the urge to wake you with the tip of his thumb pressed to one such star, instead kneeling by the cot to shake your arm. "Hey," he murmurs, "you okay?" 
You blink. Sleep crusts your left eye and your lips are chapped, the whites of your eyes a sore red as you meet his. It's funny, nobody looks pretty waking up, but Steve thinks you've just about managed it.
He gives into what he wants, his hand riding the gentle curve of your arm. 
"What's wrong?" he asks quietly. 
You stare at him like he's not what you were expecting. 
"You okay?" he asks again, rubbing the crook of your elbow in search of an answer.
"'M fine," you say, barely audible through hoarseness. 
You sit up and wipe your eyes. Steve reluctantly takes his hand back, not wanting to overdo anything. It's the strangest feeling in the world to know someone will love you one day but they don't know you yet. Stranger still to know you're all alone here, and if Steve doesn't advocate for you, there aren't many who will. 
He's happy to do it. 
"Did someone say something to you?" he asks gently. 
He wouldn't speak to you like this if you didn't respond, your posture slouching forward, relaxing from that tense rigidity you hold whenever you first see him. 
"No one said anything to me, Steve. Your– my lady's maids wouldn't leave me alone. I'm not used to, uh, having my entire day planned for me." You collect your orange rinds into your palm. "It feels childish now, but I needed to be by myself. Do you know what I mean?" 
"I've been doing what other people tell me for years." He takes the orange rinds from your hands. There's nowhere to put them, so he keeps them. He didn't want you to get your fingers sticky with pith. "And it drives me crazy. That's why I told you about this place." 
You make a face like your breath is caught. He sees it everyday. He's starting to worry you're too easily panicked. 
"Have you eaten anything else today? We should go."
"Will they make me do all the things I should've been doing?" you ask. 
"It's evening. We'll have dinner on the terrace, your lady's maids won't come up to you while we're together." He seals his promise with a quick kiss to your knuckles. Your soul mark glows palest pink. "You're sure it's nothing else?" 
You, hesitant as a dormouse, trail the side of your pinky finger against his wrist where it rests on the cot. Purple‐blue light like iris petals paint your skin. "This is all really crazy," you whisper. 
"I know," he says back, voice dropped to a murmur to match you. He can't offer you a better response —this will always be crazy. 
You nod slowly for a moment, visibly thinking. "What do you want for dinner tonight?" you ask. 
"I want what you want." 
"Maybe I want what you want, Steve." 
You make his name sound like an inside joke. He tucks the glow of his soul mark out of view as it burns a rosy hue. 
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larphis · 7 months
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Edward Teach is the most character ever.
He is the symbol of powerful masculinity amongst his enemies. He imagines himself as the hot bride of his ex-boyfriend. He is bisexual. He killed his dad. He hasn’t killed anyone ever since. He is an art-hoe. He is a skilled fighter. He is feared. He is loved. He wears fine things well. He has fucked the most nasty guy on the planet when he was a teenager. He’s in love with a golden retriever soft boy. He swears he has given up on love but is going through the most disastrous teenage-girl-breakup ever. He did his own tattoos. He ties his hair into cute hairstyles with bows. He wears leather. He wears crop-tops. He ordered for a guy to get skinned alive with a snail-fork because he called him poor.
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eoieopda · 1 year
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reckless serenade (kth)
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i’ve been trying to figure out exactly what it is i need // called up to listen to the voice of reason // and got the answering machine
Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Fem!Reader Type: One-Shot - Sequel to The Bad Thing drabble. Summary: Your husband hasn’t looked at you in months, but his co-worker, Kim Taehyung, can’t take his eyes off you. Word Count: 4K, with 2K+ being smut, lmao. Content: SMUT - 18+; Taehyung's POV; infidelity; reader's husband really is just The Worst; oral sex (m and f receiving); multiple orgasms; face-sitting; penetrative sex (p in v); tbh it doesn't explicitly state whether it's protected or unprotected sex, so??; moral quandaries; Taehyung gets his own fucking warning tbh. A/N: This Taehyung is back by popular demand. This picks up where the drabble left off, so go read that if you haven’t! Actual note and tags are at the end :)
You’d returned to the table separately, several minutes apart, to quell suspicion.
As it turned out, the subtlety hadn’t been unnecessary. Nobody batted an eye when Taehyung sat down after a prolonged absence; and, as expected, your husband’s lecherous gaze hadn’t left the waitress long enough to find you missing. So, when you’d slid back into the seat at Taehyung’s side, no one knew your dirty little secret.
Secrets. Plural.
Park Ji-won might never know that you’d just orgasmed thrice, only a few meters away behind an unlocked door. Or that Taehyung’s orgasm was still lingering where he left it, staining the inside of your little lace panties. Or that the wedding ring he’d bought for his pretty, young bride was still in Taehyung’s pocket, rolling between the fingers that now knew you inside and out.
Definitely not that you’d left that ring in Taehyung’s possession with the promise of retrieving it after dinner — if you even wanted that tacky thing back in the first place.
When the bill came, Taehyung’s co-workers — your husband included — whined like petulant fucking children that the twelve bottles of liquor they’d consumed were fully accounted for. Out of habit, Taehyung glowered and turned to see how you were reacting, only to find that you’d done the same.
There was a wry smile tugging at your lips when you whispered, “Well, well, well… if it isn’t the consequences of their own actions.”
He’d snorted into his glass of water, watched his life flash before his eyes, and — thankfully — managed to swallow down his laughter before he could choke on it.
Is this the personality your husband misses out on, listening to everyone but you?
Taehyung, keeper of the company’s black card, bowed to the waitress as he handed it over. She’d smiled at him — the first genuine one he’d seen from her all night — and scurried off to close out what had likely been one of the worst shifts of her life thus far.
Normally, he’d feel the same: eager to leave and get the fuck away from the ghouls he already spent too much time with. So annoyed by their lack of manners and restraint that his rage would carry him out the door, to his car, and home again without either foot seeming to come in contact with the ground. He’d levitate this time, too, but for different reasons.
Instead, Taehyung flew home on thoughts of you. He’d replayed the way you shivered when he pulled your chair out for you and helped you into your coat. Like a rose petal in his palm, so fucking delicate, he’d carried the memory of your hand bumping innocently against his on his way out the door. And as he drove, he thought of what you’d said under your breath.
Am I a consequence of your husband’s actions, too?
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Taehyung has been home for two hours now, and he still doesn’t know what the fuck to do with himself. 
He doesn’t bother turning on the television; he’d never be able to focus on whatever would end up flashing across the screen. He doesn’t pick up one of the many books in that untouched, yet ever-growing pile on his coffee table. His gaze keeps flicking hopefully towards his front door, as if staring at it with intention will manifest you on the other side. 
What if you changed your mind? What if you'd been caught out? What the hell was Taehyung supposed to do with your wedding ring if you never came back for it? 
Fuck. Shit! Motherfu— 
His catastrophizing is cut short by a quiet knock on the door. Three shy taps in quick succession, they mirror the way Taehyung’s heart is thudding against his rib cage. He ignores the anticipation turning cartwheels in his stomach as he pushes himself off the couch and makes his way to you. 
Even though you’d announced your intentions earlier, Taehyung is still semi-shocked when he opens the door and sees you standing on his doorstep. The look in your eyes tells him that you’re surprised, too. At yourself, maybe, for following this rabbit hole down to the bottom. Or at him, because he hadn’t used any of the past two hours to change from his suit into something less stuffy. 
You did change, he notes immediately. You’ve traded in your dress and stilettos for active wear; and Taehyung really might die now, jealous of leggings that smooth over your curves like water. It’s the comfort that really has him fucked up, though. The hair in a loose knot on top of your head, the barely-there stain of pink on your lips now that your lipstick has been discarded. 
“There you are,” He hums with a tilt of his head. There on his doorstep; there in real time; there in what he can guess is your usual state. Fucking perfect. “Wasn’t sure if you changed your mind.” 
You cross your arms, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, and tilt your head just the same. “I didn't,” you breeze, “I was conducting an endurance test.” 
“Oh?” Taehyung chuckles softly, “Do tell.” 
“I wanted to see how long I could tolerate sitting home, alone, without even a texted excuse – and without going out of my mind.” 
“Two hours? Impressive.” 
“Forty-five minutes,” You correct him, eyes twinkling, “I just got really, really lost on my way here.” 
“Even more impressive.” Taehyung grins as he opens the door and steps aside to invite you in.  
You slink through the gap; and he can’t tell if the way you brush against him is intentional or not. Then, you toe off your sneakers and leave them on the mat next to the door. You look up at him, but he’s still looking at your shoes.  
Plausible deniability, he realizes. Just in case tonight is the first night that your husband cares where you are — out on a run. 
Taehyung pushes the thought away, tears his gaze off of those Nikes, and refocuses on you. Ignoring the million things he wants to do to you, he nods up the hall to his kitchen. “Care for a drink? I’ve got an incredible bottle of Bordeaux from Pomerol.” 
“Just one bottle?” Your tiny smirk weakens his resolve even further. If he didn't love these little exchanges so much, he'd be worshipping you by now. “Not twelve?” 
The most perplexing thing about you isn’t how quick-witted you are. Taehyung’s seen it in every conversation he’s ever had with you; and he waits patiently for it, every time. The twist is how subtle you are with your little quips. Perfectly understated, they’ll fly right under the radar of anyone who doesn’t expect them.  
Does your husband even know to look?
He leads and you follow until you’re both standing in his kitchen. You take in your surroundings while you nibble thoughtfully on your bottom lip. Taehyung digs through a poorly organized drawer for a corkscrew he’s not sure he even owns.
Now, he’s nervous. This is the part where you find out he’s not a wine guy. He spent every step here praying that you wouldn’t ask him a single question about that Bordeaux because he couldn’t tell you a goddamn thing about it — except that it was a gift from a client, and that he hadn’t opened it because he prefers beer. 
You, on the other hand, enjoy wine. If you do end up drinking at the firm events you attend, that’s what you choose. While your husband is off somewhere, drowning in hard liquor, Taehyung is laughing with you and your glass at a table. When the night’s over, he replays the sight of your tongue darting out over your lips, collecting the excess maroon that lingers when you pull your glass away. 
Taehyung can’t point out Pomerol on a map and, as it turns out, he can barely operate a wine-opener. Thankfully, you have your back turned and your eyes fixed on the wall calendar full of shit he intends to blow off. You don’t glance back at him until, with a pop, he finally yanks the mangled cork from the bottle’s neck. 
Before he can turn to the counter and grab two wine glasses from the rack hanging overhead, you’re already on task. On tiptoe, reaching up, up, up, you let out a frustrated whine when you still come up short. On instinct, Taehyung steps into the space behind you. You lean back against him while he secures one glass in each hand; he feels the heat radiating off your body and nearly drops them.
Not that he would mind.
It’s so hard to give a shit about this wine with the curve of your ass so near to his dick, but he’s a better host than he is a co-worker, so he slips away to pour you a drink. Once he’s finished, he holds yours out to you.
If he were drunk by now, he could’ve blamed it on the alcohol, but he swears there’s a faint crackle of electricity when your fingertips brush against his. 
You close your eyes and inhale through your nose. “Mmm,” you hum appreciatively, eyes re-opening to blink up at him, “Smells incredible, doesn’t it?” 
Taehyung has no fucking clue because he forgot to fill a glass for himself. He doesn’t care if you notice, either; he’s too transfixed by the sight of your lips parting as you bring your glass to your mouth. You take that burgundy in, the column of your throat bobs as you swallow, and he’s waiting for it – waiting for it – waiting for it... 
It’s such an innocent action, the tip of your tongue swiping over your lip, but it sets off something primal in him.  
Bordering on feral, Taehyung sets his still-empty glass back on the granite surface of the island and takes four, wide steps to you. A little gasp tumbles out when his hands claim your waist, but it isn’t surprise. Pupils suddenly blown wide, it’s want that prompts you to discard your drink beside his and tangle both hands in his hair. 
Though he’s wanted to for years, this is the first time Taehyung has ever kissed you. It’s carnal. You kiss him back, and it’s all clicking teeth, whimpers, and desperate, clinging fingers. Insatiable, too, and it tastes like fancy French wine.  
You’re starving for it, he knows, and you whine when his tongue leaves yours lonely. That pout could convince him, without a word, to rob a bank at gunpoint.
Who the fuck would leave you home alone? 
“Angel,” Taehyung pants, locking eyes with you. He runs the pad of his thumb over your flushed cheek and feels the way you shiver. “I’m not above fucking you in this kitchen, but after fucking you in a public restroom, I think you’ve earned a bit more comfort than that.”
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“Oh, fuck – just like that, angel. Shit!"
You’re on your knees between his spread legs with his throbbing length down your throat and your hair flicked over your shoulder. It’d all spilled from your top-knot a while ago, and Taehyung remains thankful for the shitty construction of that elastic band. Now, he has some part of you to hold while the rest of your body is out of reach.  
Every instinct is telling Taehyung to throw his head back against the pillow – with his eyes screwed shut and his mouth hanging open – but then he’d miss the way you keep looking up at him under dark eyelashes. Wet eyes blink as your ravenous mouth works magic, and goddamn, this talent has been going to waste for years. 
If he lets your ministrations continue, he’ll be dead long before he can pay you back – with interest. Buried before he can thank you properly for your service with his face between your thighs. So, Taehyung swallows hard, cards his fingers through your hair, and gently guides you off of him. 
He’s committed a lot of sins in the past six hours, but interrupting your medal-worthy exhibition feels like the worst of them. 
Your voice is a bit hoarse from how much of him you’d taken and how’d deeply you taken him. Wiping at the spit that slicks your chin, you look self-conscious when you rasp, “Is something wrong?” 
“No,” Taehyung shakes his head firmly though most – definitely not all – of him feels like gelatin. “Fuck no, sweets. That’s why I have to stop you.” 
Sitting back on your knees, you pout, and he melts. He’s already spent too much time wondering how your husband can leave you on the sidelines – but that was before Taehyung knew what face you make when you don’t get your way.  
Goodbye world, he thinks. He’ll never get out of this bed as long as you’re in it.
He beckons you with a curl of his finger, wholly unprepared for the ramifications of his decision to do so. Now, you’re straddling him, hovering overhead with your face mere centimeters away from his. You lean in when he cradles your jaw in his hand. So sweet, you smile a little when you feel the tickle of his breath warm your lips. 
“Ride me.”
Taehyung can’t help himself; he’s nearly pleading. You smirk and move your hand down towards the cock leaking all over his stomach. He reaches out, taps under your chin, and stops you in your tracks. You burn pink when he clarifies, “Not there.” 
This idea has you frozen in place. Worse, there’s a speck of anxiety blooming in your eyes; and Taehyung doesn’t have to guess why. He’ll add this to the infinite list of ways Park Ji-won has fucking failed you. 
Taehyung was already propped up on his elbow, but now he sits up fully to meet you where you are. “Hey,” he murmurs, stroking his thumb over your chin before kissing you, “Only if it’s what you want. For what it’s worth –”  
Fuck, you look so shy.
He kisses you again. “I want you to fuck yourself on my tongue –” And again. “Until you’ve taken back every orgasm –” Another kiss, and you whimper, “You’ve been deprived of.” 
When Taehyung’s eyes flicker back to yours, there’s a new sense of determination burning in your irises. Even better, there’s a brief twitch in your jaw as you place your palm against his bare chest and push him back down against the mattress.
You’re a force of nature every day of the week, but as you crawl over him, it’s the most powerful he’s ever seen you look. 
Your hands take hold of the headboard as you lower yourself down towards his mouth, which is already watering at the mere thought of tasting you. Pausing with your slick center just out of his reach, you glance down at Taehyung. He tilts his head to the side, nips playfully at your inner thigh, then soothes the sting with a slow swipe from his tongue. 
He doesn’t say a word, but you hear him, nonetheless. Keep going. You do, and you both groan when his mouth meets your cunt.
Finally.
Tongue teasing at your clit, Taehyung’s hands on your thighs pull you down harder. He refuses to accept the shyness keeping distance between you. No, he demands your full weight; all of you.  
Angel that you are, you acquiesce and grant permission for him to devour you fully. Taehyung can’t hear you keening over the suckling, slurping, and panting, but he can feel it in the way your thigh muscles clench around his head. 
His name rings out clear as a bell, though, right before your whole body begins to shake. 
“F-fuck!” You squeak, crumpling forward.  
Taehyung suspects that your orgasm is too heavy to face sitting upright, but whatever the reason is, it’s bringing your fluttering cunt closer and closer to him; and he has no plans to stop at one. Spit-slicked and gushing over his mouth, the way you begin to grind against him says that you aren’t tapping out, either. 
It’s a start, but he wants more from you. To coax it out, Taehyung pushes his fingertips deeper into the flesh of your legs and pleads with you to give him everything you have. You listen – so fucking well – and drop one hand from the headboard to grip his hair.
Yes, he screams inside his head. Use me, angel, just like that. And you do, rolling your hips against his mouth, tugging at his curls until he feels that incredible sting at his roots. 
You come a second time with his tongue darting inside your hole, nose brushing against your clit. Insatiable, both of you, he forces out a third before those aftershocks can even subside. 
Taehyung gasps for air when you wriggle away from him. You’re equally out-of-breath when you collapse sideways onto the bed and rest your trembling body against his. When he turns his head to look over at you, he expects to find you with your eyes closed, fully spent. Instead, despite your fluttering eyelids, you stare right back at him. 
The way your fingertip traces soft spirals across his chest has his brain spinning, too. For reasons he can’t explain, that delicate touch feels infinitely more intimate than the million ways he’s touched you over the course of the night. It’s the most at-peace he’s felt, too, but you throw a curveball to keep him on his toes. 
“Not tired already, are you?” You tease with a devilish grin before placing a kiss on his bicep. When he laughs incredulously at you – you minx – you keep those little kisses coming until they're trailing up the curve of his shoulder. 
Taehyung is a firm believer in showing, not simply telling. Catching you completely off-guard, he rolls over until you’re pinned beneath him, head caged between his arms. Your surprise left you in a gasp, but the shock has already given way when he ducks down to nibble at the side of your neck.
You moan when he nips at your earlobe; you miss the way he smirks against your skin because your eyes have fluttered shut again. Who's tired now? He growls low from his chest to recapture your attention, “How do you want it, beautiful?” 
Everywhere, all the time, like I do? 
Taehyung suckles at a spot below your jaw, and he doesn’t give a fuck if your husband finds his calling card. You don’t either, it seems; you whimper and roll your head to the side to increase his access. 
You keen as you place your hands on his shoulder and dig your nails into his skin, “Dealer’s choice, just – please fuck me.” It sounds close enough to a cry when you continue, “I need you inside of me – now.” 
How could he ever say no when you beg like that? 
Your poor thighs have been through enough, so Taehyung keeps you where you are: nestled underneath him with your heaving chest brushing against his with every breath. You spread your legs to create space for him, then cross your ankles behind his back when you feel his tip tease at your entrance. 
He has to fight to keep his eyes open when he enters you; unwilling to miss a second of the way your mouth falls open, even though you’re too vexed to audibly moan. He’s not – not yet, anyway – and he can't keep quiet when your wet heat envelops him.  
Slowly to start, Taehyung grinds against you, pushing his cock further into your cunt until he’s buried to the hilt.  “Holy shit,” he grunts.
You’re dripping. There are rivulets of you spilling over his length, coating him all the way down. Still, your walls grip him tightly enough to dot stars behind his eyelids. Squeezing, daring him to move but fighting him as he tries to leave. You’ll milk him dry, sooner rather than later.
“I’ll never get over this – could fuck you every day, and it wouldn’t be enough.” 
Whimpers spill out of you as he continues to rut against you, stretch you open for him. Your nails dig half-moons into his arms, and they sting, but Taehyung wants every single souvenir you’re willing to give him. He’d archive every touch if he could; play every mewl of yours on a loop, and savor the way it feels when you orgasm around his cock. 
“So, don’t stop,” You pant, gripping his jaw and pulling him close enough to kiss. Against his lips, you repeat your demand, “Don’t ever stop.” 
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Taehyung is still trying to determine which version of you has him most fucked in the head.
He thought it was you and your little, black dress and heels. The version of you that followed the man who took your wedding ring into a public restroom; fucked him; and then left without your ring.
Then, he met the version of you that dresses down for clandestine, extra-marital dick appointments. A dark horse, certainly, but then there's the one who wore nothing at all; who shook, and cried, and came all over his face.
The best thing, he realizes, came last.
It's you in his crewneck, towel-drying your hair in his bathroom while he brushes his teeth. You, saying you'll stay – just this once – because you know for a fact that your husband never came home. You with your chin resting on his chest as your sleepy gaze struggles to focus on him.
Taehyung had figured that you were too tired to speak, so you startle him with your voice; even more so with the deep frown working its way over your face. With how much you shrink when you say, "I think I'm a bad person."
"Why, because you're here?"
You nod. His heart drops, though not because he didn't expect this. Rubbing gentle circles into your back, Taehyung inhales, deep in thought. There's a lot he wants to say, but significantly less that he can even begin to articulate. He can't say the quiet part out loud, even though it's screaming through his skull.
Maybe if your husband was a good person, you wouldn't be where you are right now. Maybe if he loved you, he would be home to notice that you weren't.
He tries his best, sighing, "I think people are a lot more complicated than that."
This thought catches your attention. Your chin digs into him slightly as you tilt your curious head to the side. Cute.
He continues, "I think we're given a hand of cards – some of them great, most of them shitty – and we do our best to play them well. You know, to the extent that we can."
"Do you really believe that, or are you trying to make me feel better?" You smirk, playfully tugging at the waistband of his boxers.
Taehyung exhales forcefully through his nose and tucks a runaway strand of damp hair behind your ear, "Does it matter?"
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A/N: So, by now, you've noticed that the original drabble and this fic are both in Tae's POV. I did not want to tell the reader how to feel about this. I wanted it to be as open-to-interpretation as possible, and I really, really, really wanna know what y'all think about the thing I didn't clarify: Do you think (1) they actually have feelings for each other; (2) Taehyung loves the idea of her and feels like he's "saving" her; (3) Reader just wants to be wanted, for once; or (4) it's a combination of things? HMMMM.
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Exchange
plot: In which a Bridesmaid finds out she accidentally got married in Vegas months prior.
pairings: Clan Leader!Gojo Saturo x Lawyer!Reader
genre(s): Second Chance; Accidental Marriage
warnings: unedited (mostly). Golden Retriever/ Fox Au. Gojo is a goofball and makes Y/N laugh a lot. She is very much anti-marriage, but open to love. COMEDY. Couple's Banter. Lots of fluff. Gojo fell first and hard. New Love.
a/n: this will be a mini series with weekly updates.
w.c: 3.5k
“You have gotten even more beautiful since the day you left me.”
My eyes immediately widen from the sentiment. The air in my throat had become thick and my hands had begun to shake. I almost didn’t recognize his voice. Its cadence was a distant memory; one I had left behind months ago. In Vegas, of all places. It was the way he said “beautiful” that transported me back in time. It was the first thing he said to me. In a dark club, under neon lights and a cloud of smoke. He didn’t use basic, sexually charged words to get my attention. He was respectful, I liked that about him. He had been the only guy to introduce himself and offered to pay for my drink properly. He called me things like “beautiful”, “gorgeous” and “breathtaking”. Those three little words had meant more to me than whatever bullshit the other guys were doing. 
His electric, blue eyes seemed to glow in the low light. They never wandered anywhere else but my face when we talked. He seemed genuinely interested in everything I had to say. From me saying that it was my first time in Vegas to how much I hated crowded spaces. I had only come to the club to celebrate a friend’s engagement and was labeled the designated driver for that night. If I recall, he said my job was “honorable” and applauded me for taking it seriously.
And, in an effort to make up for our lost drink, he gave me his number. Told me to call him when I was free. 
Gojo’s eyes were just as I remembered. So bright and powerful— almost inviting to look into. He wore a navy blue suit to compliment the intimidating orbs and brighten his pale complexion. His unruly, white hair had been combed back with a singular curl setting in the middle of his forehead. The silver watch on his wrist looked heavy and vintage— possibly a family heirloom of some sort. I had forgotten how tall he had been. Even though I had worn six-inch heels, he still was a few inches taller than me. And I definitely was not a short woman.
“I left you?” I said, finally coming back to earth. “I don’t recall ever doing such a thing.”
A sly smirk began to form on his face. “Oh really?” He replied, taking slow steps towards me. “That’s mighty convenient on your end.”
“How so?”
“It relieves you of any guilt.”
A painful silence fell between us. Our eyes locked in a heated exchange, while our hands remained by our sides. I couldn’t deny the connection we had—couldn’t forget the spark. 
“Bride or groom?” I asked, turning my back to him. 
The tall man grew closer to me. He took his stance about two feet away from my spot on the balcony. He placed his forearms on the edge and leaned forward. There was a painful aura lingering above his head. Something was wrong. It was more than simply not seeing me for a few months. It wasn’t my habit of escaping in the middle of the night. It was complicated and conflicting.
“Groom,” he sighed, looking at the beautiful countryside of Japan. “I'm guessing you're here for the bride, given the Bridesmaid dress.”
I hummed in disagreement. “I know them both, actually. We worked at the same law firm for a couple of years. I believe I introduced them to one another, all those years ago.”
“Oh, okay,” Gojo snickered. “A divorce lawyer playing cupid. And I thought I saw everything.”
A quiet giggle fell from my lips. “That's right. Consider me a walking paradox.”
“That you are,” he replied sweetly.
The tension from earlier had broken and was replaced with a sense of familiarity. 
It was nice.
A few breaths later, Gojo opened his suit jacket and pulled out a white envelope. He handed it to me. 
I gave him a questionable look. “What's that?”
“Open it and you'll see,” was all he said before placing the envelope into my hand. 
I lifted the tab and pulled out a folded piece of paper. At the very top was the letterhead for the Clark County Department of Records in Nevada State. The letter read:
  Dear Mister Gojo Satoru,
We are pleased to inform you that your marriage license has been processed successfully and your certificate will be arriving at your residence in 3 to 4 weeks. 
As of April 25, both you and Ms. Y/N L/N are legally m—
“Nope,” I said, folding the letter and shoving it back in the envelope. “No the fuck we aren't.” I handed it back to Gojo. “Over my dead fucking body.”
“You hate me that much, sweet pea?” he chuckled. 
“I don't know you to hate you,” I replied, stuffing the envelope in my clutch purse. “And I would like to keep it that way.”
“You're breaking my heart, Y/N,” Gojo replied. His tone was still playful but there was a twinge of sadness in it. “Surely being married to me couldn’t be that bad.”
I scoffed and plucked a flute of champagne from the waiter’s tray. I took a big gulp of the bubbly beverage and sighed deeply.
Fate must've had something against me. I must've done something extraordinarily vicious in my past life to warrant such treatment. Marriage? The whole thing felt like a nightmare. I spent my whole life running from the false institution that was called “marriage”. It's a contract that almost always ends poorly. From spouses cheating on the other to emotional abuse and gaslighting— I had seen the most stable of unions crumble after a few decades. Families broken apart by secrets,  betrayal and unfortunate circumstances. Men and women alike pleading  for one more chance to correct their mistakes. And if that doesn't work, greed takes over. The desperate struggle for power between the couple and how it always ends badly. 
Marriage wasn't something I was particularly fond of. I didn’t see my sentiment changing any time soon. Even if the tall drink of water before me was legally my husband. 
I finished the rest of my beverage and placed it on a different waiter’s tray. I took several more deep breaths and turned my back to the white haired man. 
The alcohol had sedated the raging storm of emotions swirling in my being. A somber feeling eased into my heart, but I quickly shoved it back down. The blasting music in the background had made it abundantly clear that we couldn't do this here. Not now. Not at my best friends’ wedding. 
“I just need time to think this over. Figure out my next move,” I reached in my purse and pulled out a business card. I placed it on the railing. “Call me tomorrow afternoon and I'll tell you how I'd like to proceed.”
“Wait, Y/N—”
“Goodnight, Mr. Gojo.”
I didn't even look back as I walked away from him.
“Come on, Jessica,” I practically begged. “There has to be a way to end this shit sooner.”
“I hate to break it to you, Y/N,” my colleague sighed. “But there isn't. As you could imagine, a lot of people accidentally get married in Vegas. The number is close to about 50,000 couples. And a little less than half of them get their union annulled. Meaning, divorce court is overloaded with requests, follow ups and cases. If you file your paperwork today, you probably won't get a response for 1 to 3 months. Even then, the annulment might not even go through.”
“Because I was already married to him for six months without me knowing?” I said, pinching my nose bridge.
“Yup. To the judges eyes, it might not look like a mistake. He can still deny your annulment.”
My head was pounding and my mouth dry. An unknown fear started creeping up my spine. When I thought of the goals I set out for myself, for my life, marriage was never on the vision board. Especially not an accidental one. And definitely not one with a white haired, blue-eyed, Japanese man. However, he seemed to be awfully giddy about the union. Gojo sent upward of twenty text messages asking me how I was feeling or if I needed anything. He, also, suggested having lunch together to talk everything over. 
I looked out the cab’s window, watching the restaurant come into view. The place was clearly exclusive and very expensive. The right side of the establishment was made entirely of glass, overlooking the ocean just below the cliff. The sun was high in the sky and the clouds danced across her warm light. Waiting patiently in the front of the establishment was a familiar flock of white hair. The taller man had been shrouded in black this time. His overcoat perfectly matched the crisp suit underneath. The stark white shirt seemed brighter in the light; it made his chest glow. 
He looked entirely too perfect. As if he wanted to deflect my attention from something else. 
“Okay, Jess,” I said, pulling my gaze away from him. “I would like to survey all my options before I make a final decision.”
“Take all the time that you need, Y/N,” she replied in a sympathetic tone. “I will assist you in whatever way I can.”
“Thank you,” I smiled. “I will ring you soon.”
The car came to a gentle stop at the restaurant’s doors and I quickly ended the call. I thanked the driver once more and opened the car’s door. I barely had time to place my high heel on the pavement before a flock of black appeared in front of my door. A pale hand flickered in the doorway with outstretched fingers. I could only see his glowing chest and black attire from that angle. Not his face. I swung my other leg out of the other vehicle and took hold of his hand. The taller gentleman takes a firm grip and aids me out of the cab. As I rise from the leather seat, my eyes ease up his glowing chest and broad shoulders. They cascade up his broad shoulders and slender neck. His sharp jawline was relaxed and his plump lips in a soft smirk. Round sunglasses rested on his nose, covering his electric eyes. His white hair was messily styled atop his head and, also, seemed to glow in the sunlight. 
With my bag resting on my shoulder, I used my hand to close the car door behind me. Gojo held my hand tightly as he started to walk to the restaurant. The fingers were warm against my cool ones. It felt nice and. . . comforting. I didn’t have the desire to pull away from him. The realization we were still holding hands didn’t dawn on me until he dropped my mine. 
“Let me take your coat, Mrs. Gojo.”
And just like that, the cocky bastard ruined a perfectly good moment with a couple of words. 
I allowed him to slip my trench coat from my shoulders and settled in the seat before me. The taller gentleman slips off his jacket and takes the seat across from me. A toothy grin plastered on his lips as he eased the round sunglasses off his face. His eccentric eyes were already glued to my face. His gaze was unwavering. It was almost like he was waiting for me to say something in response to his little comment. The white haired man was ready for battle.
Unfortunately for him, I left my bulletproof vest at home. 
“Do you come here often?” I asked, bringing a glass of water to my lips.
Those bright blue eyes flickered to my lips. They darkened at the sight of such glossy softness and lingered on them even after I had placed the glass back on the table. It was almost like he was in some sort of trance. Lost in a memory that he treasured and never wanted to part from. 
I cleared my throat. “Mr. Gojo?”
“What gloss is that?” He questioned, abruptly breaking his gaze from my mouth.
“It’s from Juvia’s Place,” I answered with a raised eyebrow. “Why?”
“It just looks so good on you,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “I want to buy you a lifetime’s supply.”
“You’re laying it on a bit thick there, don’t you think?
“That’s what you do when you’re on a date.”
“This is not a date,” I deadpanned. 
“Sure it is,” Gojo chirped. “I mean why else would we be in such a romantic establishment.”
The wife joke seemed to be a warning shot in hindsight. The taller gentleman was trying to test the waters to see just how far he could push me. I left him stranded the day prior. In mid sentence. He was not able to plead his case, explain his side of the situation. I had laid my intentions out to him loud and clear. I wanted zero parts in this relationship. Our union was supposed to be limited anyhow. A vacation fling that went on a little too long for anyone’s liking. At least for my liking. The marriage was clearly a mistake and one I wanted to rectify quickly. However, any time I clearly displayed my disinterest in our union, Gojo was quick to deflect with a quip. That meant he wasn’t going to take anything I said or did seriously. I would have to approach this matter from a new angle. 
I would have to play his game and play it well. 
The waiter walked over to the table and set down our menus. “Is there anything I could get started for you?”
I hummed sweetly and looked over at Gojo. “What do you recommend? I’ve never been here before.”
The man’s chest practically swelled at the sentences. A new source of pride pumping through his veins. A sly smile fell on his lips as the words started to pour from his lips. In Japanese. 
“What dishes do you have without shellfish? She’s allergic.”
The question caused my eyebrows to shoot up. 
I didn’t remember disclosing that information to him. At least, in the past twenty-fours that we had reunited. That could only mean that he remembered the little tidbit I shared all those months ago. Six months to be exact. He carried that information with him for half the year, almost like he intended to use it again. His memory must’ve been impeccable, which was why he was able to recognize me at first glance at the wedding. Looking back, I didn’t even notice him until he approached me on the balcony. I had been seated with the rest of the wedding party, practically on a stage overlooking the venue and I still didn’t spot him. He would be hard not to notice. He was one of the only people I knew with stark white hair and was under the age of eighty. Along with those electric blue eyes that pierced me like a needle. The chemistry we had was undeniable and I knew we shared a mutual attraction to one another. 
Would that be enough to have a fulfilling marriage?
The waiter skated away with our orders and Gojo’s eyes locked back with mine.
“So, how long are you in Japan for?” He asked, bring a glass of water to his lips.
“Originally, I was supposed to only stay two weeks for the wedding,” I answered, tapping my hand on the edge of the table. “But, a potential client just called and asked for a consultation. They are from New York but live in Japan temporarily. So, the answer is a little unclear for me at the moment.”
The taller gentleman sighed, amused. “It seems like I have a little bit of time before we part ways once again. The heavens have truly blessed me this time.”
“And just what do you intend to do with that information, Mr. Gojo?”
“I’d like to convince you to remain Mrs. Gojo for the rest of our days together.”
“As in for the time being? While I am in Japan?”
Gojo smirked at that comment. “As in for the rest of your life, sweetheart.”
I leaned back in my chair and folded my arms across my chest. “And how exactly are you going to get me to do that?”
Gojo leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. His pink lips spread into a full blown smile. Those blue orbs sparkled dangerously as they flickered over my face. He seemed to be brimming with excitement. He wanted nothing more than to display his nefarious plan and keep me entangled in his spider’s web. 
“Originally, I planned on going the traditional route,” he conceded. “Showering you in gifts, expensive dinners and maybe a romantic weekend trip to Nokonoshima Island.”
“Buying a woman’s love? That is very traditional.”
“I know, but you are not a traditional woman,” he observed. “You are a divorce attorney. You are used to men attempting to buy a woman’s affection.”
“Very true.”
“So I came up with a proposal.”
“Do tell.”
“As you said, you don’t know me to hate me. Which means you don’t know me to like me either. And I, personally, think I am pretty fucking awesome.”
I chuckled, loudly. “You’re that confident, huh?”
“I am. Which is why I am suggesting that, for however long you are in Japan, we hang out.” 
“Hang out?”
“I would like to use this time to get to know each other. Continue what we started back in Vegas. Before you left me.”
“I didn’t leave you.”
The white haired man scoffed and leaned closer to me. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s not lie to each other. You practically ran your pretty booty out of my hotel room the moment the sun came up.”
“That’s not true!” I interjected with a smile.
“It is true! And you had the nerve to leave me a couple of twenties on the nightstand like I was sorta cheap whore you met on the street. I never felt so violated in my life.”
A fit of giggles burst from my lips, shattering the remaining wall we had between us. 
“That was never my intention! I just felt bad for ripping the buttons off of your Armani shirt. So I gave you some cash for dry cleaning.”
“There’s no need to explain yourself, Y/N. Your message was loud and clear,” he sighed dramatically, leaning back in your chair. “I was just your sexy little secret for the weekend. No plans of marrying me. You just wanted to hit it and quit. Leaving me to deal with the pain of your absence alone. Not even a cover to keep me warm, just the memories of our last rendezvous.”
“You’re such a drama queen,” I laughed, shaking my head. 
“However,” Gojo replied, completely ignoring my comment. “Unlucky for you, I have decided to get revenge by blackmailing you.”
“Oh yeah?”
“If you don’t hang out with me while you’re in Japan, I am gonna tell everyone you snore in your sleep.”
“I do not!”
“And you are a blanket hogger!”
“Blasphemy!”
“And you got me pregnant while we were in Vegas.”
A slew of laughter erupted from my being and I could feel tears beginning to prick the edges of my eyes. “ That is not even scientifically possible."
"It is so!" He laughed. "Why else would I have morning sickness and swollen ankles?"
"Gojo, please. I cannot breath. . . !"
"How could you attempt to abandon your child, Y/N?" He crossed her arms over his chest and playfully shook his head. "I am not fit to be a single mother and take care our baby alone."
"Well," I paused and attempted to catch my breath. "You should've just kept your legs closed and this wouldn't have happened."
The taller man let out a dramatic gasp and placed a hand to his chest. "Did you. . . did you just try to slut shame me? After you basically paid for my services? How dare you?"
I lifted a glass of water to my lips; a weak attempt to calm my explosive chuckles down. I gulped the cool drink down and placed the glass back on the table. In the same instance, the waiter started to place our meal before us. There had been a collection of small plates carrying different items on them. Some had stir-fried vegetables and garnish, while others had different kinds of sauces. The bigger plates had anything between sashimi and grilled fish to sauteed pork and beef. Once the waiters were done plating, our table was suited for royalty. All the different dishes came together to create a marvelous spread and their aromas were simply magical together. 
“I didn’t know what you liked, so I got a little bit of everything,” Gojo replied, meeting my gaze over the food. “I hope that’s okay with you.”
Like a light switch, the playful (borderline pain in my ass) was tucked away from view and replaced with a dashing gentleman. Familiar feelings started to bubble in my chest. Ones I had tucked away months ago. A small wave of adoration danced between our beings. Along with attraction. The little exchange, our unorthodox banter, had lightened the tension that was between us since we reunited. It made room for why we were originally drawn to each other. His playful, almost youthful, side was almost like a cushion in my high-stress daily life. He breathed cool air into my hot tempered mind and gave me a sense of mental clarity I never experienced. It was easy for me to like him. To be attracted to him. To lust for him. But to love him?
That seemed like a different story. 
“It’s perfect.”
---------
Part II
a/n: don't fight me y'all! i've been adulting something fierce. as previously mentioned, this will be a series and i will post updates regularly. if you would like to be on the official taglist, let me know.
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fanaticsnail · 5 months
Text
Dancando Lambada
Hello everyone! This is my first time writing for Shanks, at the request of @commanderfreethatdust.
I set up a playlist and listened to so much bachata music it was insane. I hope you enjoy reading this one!
My Masterlist is here, just in case you want to see any of my other work!
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Crawling to the shore, the weight of your completely soaked formal garment collecting sand around the hemline. You coughed slightly before springing to your feet and shaking the water from your body with large, exaggerated actions. You searched the beach for your companions, finally making eye contact with the man who scurried to shore beside you.
“Where is she?” you questioned him, helping him to his feet. He spluttered out a rough cough to rid his lungs of seawater as you clasped his arm in aid.
“I-,” he began, panting slightly, “I lost her.”
“You lost her?” you said, flittering your eyes to the other members of the vessel, “you lost your sister?”
“I did,” he confirmed, standing alert as he turned to search the beach. You saw a small bundle of heaped material above the flailing arms of the aforementioned woman as she struggled to keep afloat under the weight of her oversized garment. Without hesitation, you assertively made your way back into the water to aid her in her struggles.
You swam to meet with her as she clasped your arms and held on for dear life.
“I got you, love. I got you,” you reassured her, holding her to you as you slowly rode the tide into the beach. She began to sob as she attempted to make her way to the shore.
“It’s ruined, all of it,” she wailed slightly.
“Honey,” you said, drawing her attention to you as you felt the sand finally beneath your feet, “it was just the ceremony. The reception will still be beautiful.”
She sniffed as she began to collect the layers of her large white skirts as she made it to shore. She met the eyes of her brother before she sprinted to the best of her abilities before him.
“Really, Albert?!” she shrieked at him in rage, “you had to test out the barrel of a cannon before I could recite my vows?!”
“I didn’t know it was loaded!” he yelled back in fear, running to flee from the wrath of his sister.
“You ruined everything!” she again reiterated, picking up a small rock and throwing it at him. You groaned and brought your hand to rest on your brow before noticing a large ship sailing to make port in the docks ahead.
“Lilian, look ahead,” you attempted to gain the agitated bride’s attention to bring it to the ship.
“The captain can’t perform the ceremony on dry land, Albert. He doesn’t have that authority,” she continued to berate her brother.
“Lilian,” you said a little louder this time.
“And you sunk his ship, you stupid git,” she continued yelling.
“Lilian!” you bellowed over, finally bringing her attention to you.
“What?” she boomed, fixating her rage onto you now.
“There’s a ship approaching,” you began as you brought your hands into a soothing motion, palms facing the ground as one would make small themselves in front of a charging beast.
“What does that have to do with anything?” she said, finally exchanging her anger for a whimpering sadness.
“The ship is likely to have a captain,” you said, approaching the bride, “and you need one of those to marry you and Remy.”
At his mention, the bride turned to look at her betrothed who had softening features adorned as he looked to her with pure adoration.
“Now,” you began, bringing her eyes to you once more, “go and get yourself and your beau cleaned up. Leave the captain to me and meet me on the dock.”
-------------------
The sails swelled in the breeze at it carried the fine ship into a fresh port. Shanks and his troop of carefree crew began to cheer merrily at the thought of receiving fresh supplies from a new town.
“Looks to be trouble ahead, Captain,” Beckman informed the captain as he walked past him to begin hoisting the sail.
“Trouble?” Shanks said, retrieving his brass spyglass from within his large, dark cape. He lifted the object to make out the form of a sinking ship as the people aboard fled to the shore. He quirked his head slightly, furrowing his brows at the sight that lay before him.
“Marines?” Beckman called over his shoulder as he continued to make light work of the rigging, “Sailors?”
“A leisure vessel, I think,” Shanks said, placing his spy glass back from within his cloak and turning to his first mate, “and I think it was performing a wedding.”
“A wedding?” Beckman questioned, turning to face Shanks after completing an expertly tied knot, “how do you mean?”
“Look,” Shanks said, leaping down from the place next to the navigator, “you see?”
Beckman squinted his eyes to make out the form of a woman in a white dress as she stomped up the sand dunes with several other women in tow.
“Making port now, Captain,” called Yassop from the deck as he threw a lasso to the pillar of the ramp, successfully attaching the ship to the dock.
Once settled against the solid foundations of the dock and extending the ramp; Shanks witnessed a woman dressed in incredibly damp clothes aid the ship’s docking ramp to extend fully to the floor before placing a bare foot against the wood.
--------------------
“Which one amongst you be the Captain of this vessel?” you asked them, prompting the entirety of the crew to bring their complete attention to you.
Your hair was soaked, lying flat against your head, as the weight of your once fine gown hung from your body; hugging every single piece of your skin firmly. You paid the material no mind, although it became slightly transparent from the seawater you unwillingly swam in moments ago.
“That would be me, my lady,” a red-headed man said, stepping forward.
You looked over him. His face almost had a playful gleam adorning it. He had a light scruff on his chin, a three-clawed scar atop his left eye and a dark cloak wrapped asymmetrically from his torso as it completely covered his left arm.
“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Captain,” you smirked slightly, bowing ever so slightly to him, “please excuse my forwardness, I’m on a tight schedule and there is food about to spoil.”
“Food?” a large man wearing goggles called in glee, prompting you to bring your attention to him, “what food?”
“Salted pork, roasted vegetables, wheels of cheese by the dozen,” you relayed to him while waving your right hand dismissively before snapping your head back to the captain, “but again, I am on a tight schedule.”
“Oh?” the Captain said in a slight teasing tone, “and may I be privy to what would bring such haste upon a fine lady as yourself this day?”
You sighed in slight annoyance before shaking off any apprehension.
“My oldest friend is - was - getting married, you see,” you said to the captain before gesturing further out to the shore, “she has just descended the dunes to fix her attire.”
The captain of the vessel laughed wholeheartedly at your explanation, prompting his crew to also chuckle at the situation.
“And what would you have me do?” he laughed, “I’m no tailor. I have no idea how to fix a salt-soaked wedding dress.”
You snickered at his comment, tucking a damp strand of hair behind your ear and looking to your feet slightly before returning your gaze to the amused Captain before you.
“Well, sir,” you began, biting your lip slightly before fully allowing yourself to explain further, “we are in need of a ship and its Captain.”
His brows twitched slightly in confusion as he slightly shook his head.
“For what reason?” he asked you, placing his right arm on the railing as he began to descend onto the dock below.
“Well, we lost our ship, as you can plainly see,” you gestured to the completely sunken ship off the shore of the coast, “and our church had been ransacked by pirates a few months prior; forcing our priest to flee to his home monastery for funds to create a new one.”
The captain descended to fall before your being. You immediately felt small as his taller persona towered over your form, his cape falling to cascade over his left leg slightly.
“And you want to use my ship to what,” he paused before looking back to his crew, “throw a party?”
He and his crew laughed at the notion, prompting you to join them slightly.
“No, sir,” you directed him, “as I said. We have no trained leader or lawman among us presently. We have a captain, but his ship is now claimed by the sea.”
The red-head turned his gaze back towards your own, his laughter dying but his smile remained.
“I understand,” he said to you with a small smirk, “you need someone with jurisdiction of the waters to officiate the ceremony.”
“Yes,” you felt the words breathily leave your lips, “we need you, Captain.”
His smirk upturned further into a warm smile as he fully grasped your words of desire.
“And my ship, I presume?” he questioned, fully stepping onto the wooden dock to join with you in level ground.
“Aye, sir,” you said with a small nod, prompting him to breathe a laugh through his nose at your confirmation.
“And what shall we have as payment, my lady,” he teased slightly, his eyes playfully squinting full of absolute delight at your humility.
You stepped forward, unafraid of his taunt and proceeded to bring your body within an intimate proximity. You angled your chin up to be within inches of his scuffed jaw, as you looked up at him through your eyelashes.
This caught the captain slightly off guard, not fully processing the motion you had set in place.
You could taste the salt on his skin as you brought your lips inch by inch closer to his own before quirking your head to the side.
“Rum, dinner, and a good time,” you whispered your breath against his lips in a sultry tone, smiling as you felt him lean in slightly at your administrations. You held his unadulterated attention as you kept your proximity for a few moments before the Captain pulled away and looked to his crew.
“You hear that, lads?” the captain asked, “we’re in for a free feed!”
They all cheered in unison as they celebrated the knowledge of an abundance of food to be presented before them. He smiled and turned his face back toward your own and held an intensity in his gaze.
“By all means,” he smiled at you, “bring the love-birds aboard and I will marry them to one another.”
You smiled and breathed a sigh of relief at his generosity.
“Thank you, sir,” you bowed in a small curtsey, presenting your skirts outwardly to the best of your ability. The dampness of your gown made this particular gesture slightly more difficult than originally anticipated, but you extended your formality never the less.
“I feel like I should be thanking you, my lady,” he smiled, “and offering my sincerest apologies for the amount of good food and rum my crew is going to claim from you.”
You giggled at his remark.
“If I may be excused, Captain,” you asked with a slight uneasiness in your face, “I need to change out of my clothes. It’s awfully cold out here and I feel incredibly exposed before your wonderful crew.”
At that, the Captain drew his eyes over your form. He started at your partially dried but still incredibly damp hair before flittering down to your collar bone and holding his gaze there; using his peripherals to search pupilless over your form to take in how exposed your body was in the sea air before finding your gaze once more. You played a knowing smirk upon your features, noticing him searching over your figure with a small hint of desire.
“You’re excused, Miss,” he said, gesturing before the dock.
You felt his eyes fixate against your retreating form, relishing slightly at the attention of the attractive individual as you allowed a hidden smile to toy at your lips.
---------------
The second ceremony went ahead without a hitch. No cannon fire to sink your vessel at the hands of your close friend’s idiot brother.
The attractive Captain officiated the union between the two lovers and his crew cheered whole-heartedly as he expressed the union to be consummated within a covenant-sealing kiss.
You allowed a ululation to escape from between your lips, holding your right hand up to the side of your mouth to emphasise your joy as the young couple brought their lips together to seal the promise they made with one another. You smiled in glee as Remy dipped Lilian down to deepen their kiss, relishing at the love they found with one another.
At last, the festivities began. You offered your arm to the red-headed Captain to escort him from the deck of his boat to the shore off the horizon as the sun began to set its rays behind you.
You smiled as you witnessed the Captain and his crew gazed almost lovingly at the banquet laid before them, jaws going slack as they spied the sheer amount of food that was available to them.
Several large, canvas marquees were erected along the coastal shore; wooden, felt tipped torches aligning the pathway to their entrances.
Food stretched the left-most wall of the tent as it sat atop extended rectangular tables. The variety ranged from cold, cured meats and several varieties of cheeses to a suckling pig on a spit adjacent to a fattened lamb as they rotated over a freshly dug fire pit. Several variety of flattened breads, rounded loaves and lentils lay in woven baskets; the exotic scents lingering in the air. The indulgent sweets: chocolates, caramels, sweet honeys and moulded crisp sugar pillars adorned the table extended to the end of the room.
“Your payment as promised, Captain,” you gestured to the room before you, “take what you desire and please-,” you added, bringing your gaze slightly at his parted lips.
He turned his eyes to pull from the food to rest on your almost suggestive gaze.
“Please?” he whispered in question, looking through his half-hooded eyes at you. You smiled at him before looking again upwards to bring your eyes to his own.
“Stay for the party,” you demanded, rather than posed as a question to the cloaked captain in front of you.
“As you command, my lady,” he said with his eyes revealing his heavily utilised smile lines as he brought an absolutely honest smile to his lips.
You turned on your way after releasing him from his arm linked within your own, bouncing slightly as you ran to join in the lively dancing that was taking place against the warm coastal sand.
Approaching Albert as he rested wallowing atop the trunk of a fallen tree, you extended your hand out to him which he wordlessly took as his boyish grin returned to its spot atop his lips. You beamed at him as you began to pull him within the ring of dancers.
You arched your legs, placing one of Alberts own between them as you both swayed to the music. You cascaded your hands to the air as he embraced your lower and upper back and swayed your hips to the fast-paced, rhythmic music. Following his lead, you span your body to the music, allowing your now smaller skirt to swirl upwards to almost reveal your undergarments. He reached both of his hands to clasp your own and twirled you within them in a cross-hatched movement; embracing you as he held your hips against his own with his interlocking arms.
You both gleefully laughed as you danced together, as you both would often choose one another as dance partners in events such as these due to your prior mutual history.  He dipped you backwards and rotated you over his leg before snapping you back up. You pressed your forehead against his own and shimmied your shoulders while continuing to fan your skirt out in the sway of your hips.
As the song came to an end, you cheered again to the minstrels for their musical illumination. You laughed at Remy the groom, as he began to feel the effects of slight over consumption of alcohol and fell his back against the sand in exhaustion; prompting Lilian to do the same with her own gleeful laughter.
You squeezed the hand of Albert in thanks for the dance before wordlessly approaching the awaiting Captain as his gaze continued to focus on your approaching form.
“Captain,” you nodded to him in acknowledgement. He smirked at you, nodding his head to recognize your approach.
You began to make your way past him before halting your step and taking a small step backwards to fall before him once more.
“Were you,” you paused momentarily before continuing your sentence, raising your brows in question, “watching me?”
“I was watching you, yes,” he confirmed, nodding with a smile as he held his gaze to the ground to avoid your investigative eyes. You stepped again towards him, bringing your proximity closer to his own. He trailed his eyes to your bare feet and exposed legs before looking to your short, pleated skirt upon your hips.
“Why were you watching me?” you asked with a hint of coy, battering your eyelashes at him. He chuckled at your question, acknowledging he was absolutely caught-out in his desire for you.
“I-,” he began, his words being caught within his throat and halting his words.
You extended your hand to fall below his chin and bring his gaze up to your face.
“You-?” you trailed off to lead him in to further explain himself. He sighed with a warm smile in response, leaning ever to slightly into your hand. As he held no further explanation, you allowed a hint of assertive boldness to come over you.
“Would you care to join me for a dance?” you asked him, eyes flittering between his two orbs as you held a knowing smile on your lips. He chuckled slightly at your invitation before immediately recoiling from your touch.
“I don’t have all the right parts for a dance like that, I’m afraid,” he laughed, bringing his sights from you as he looked at the newly married couple as they circled each other in dance once rising again from the dunes; arms embracing one another as they spun rapidly together. They wove their arms in and out as their hips swayed with gyrating movements as they arched their backs and extended their legs.
“Oh?” you asked him, eyes unashamedly raking over his whole body before settling back on his face, “and what parts might that be?”
At that comment, he bellowed out a large and unrestrained laugh at your question.
“I’m intact if that’s what you’re asking,” he said, removing his dark cape from its placement on his right shoulder blade, “it’s just an arm.”
Your eyes widened at the sudden revelation of his absent limb, your sights holding to that place for a moment before meeting your eyes to his once more.
“So all the important ones are still there, then,” you shrugged with a slight jesting tone, prompting him to laugh further at your comment. Silence fell between you both again as you absentmindedly linked your left arm within his right and rest your head on his shoulder while you witnessed the couple continue to dance together.
“You’re self-conscious about it, then?” you asked, leaning your head back to have your eyes meet with his face as he continued to focus on the couple. He had a small, almost sorrowful expression fall to his face for an incredibly almost invisible moment before he smiled again.
“Not in the slightest,” he said, bringing his gaze to rest on the sand below his sandals. You hummed at his comment. You then pulled yourself away from its place huddled against his side and stood firmly in front of him.
“So it’s me then?” you asked with a quirk of your brow. He snapped his gaze up to you at that comment and open and closed his mouth as if to speak.
“I’ll find you someone to dance with,” you nodded before turning to look to the crowd before you as you began listing them.
“There’s Ariana; she’s incredible. Best bachata dancer in the east blue, I swear to you,” you said before turning to another woman among them, “or there’s Yasmita. She would seriously, and I might add shamelessly,” you said, while bringing your hand up to shield your mouth from the crowd before bringing it down again, “mould her body against yours and listen to your every direction.”
You laughed at your own comment before turning to gesture to another member of the crowd; “or there’s Zoe-,”
“-No,” you heard the Captain utter with an authoritative tone, bringing his right hand to your cheek and pulling your gaze to meet with his as they searched your eyes. His prior playfulness all but disappeared from his face as he held your cheek, caressing it as he stared at you with longing. Your eyes flittered between his two, searching for any unspoken reason he would not want to dance.
“Then,” you paused slightly as you inhaled a slightly shaken breath, “you just don’t like dancing?”
He smiled at you slightly, his eyes again returning its former playful glint to them.
“Oh, I like dancing,” he assured you with a nod, bringing your face closer towards his. You smiled at him, knitting your brows together in incessant confusion.
“I just can’t dance like that,” he chuckled, nodding his head to the couples as they swayed their hips together as they held their bodies pressed together in almost intimate juxtaposition.
“Oh,” you breathed out, quirking your head to the side as you comprehended what the red-headed captain confessed to you. You paused for a moment, the Captain releasing your cheek from his hold.
“Come with me,” you said, bringing your left hand to join with his and interlaced your fingers together as you made to lead him down to the shore; away from any undesired attention.
“And where are you taking me?” he laughed at you, following in step behind you.
“To somewhere secluded so you don’t make a complete ass of yourself,” you called over your shoulder, “I’m going to teach you to dance.”
Once arriving at a partially lit area still in ear shot of the drumbeat and up-tempo melody, you brought your hips flush with the red-head Captain. You noticed an immediate blush rise itself to his cheeks as he laughed at himself at the rise of his embarrassment.
“Oh, get a hold of yourself,” you playfully reprimanded, “now, put your hand here.”
“This is the stance,” you whispered to him, closing your eyes. He gasped out a small laugh as his own eyes closed.
You took his hand and hooked it below your left arm, using your right hand to direct the placement of his two middle fingers against your spine. You pressed your forehead against his as the two of you bent your legs.
You laced your legs over his right leg and wrapped your right arm around the nape of his neck and intertwined your left fingers into his crimson locks. You felt him take in a sharp inhale of breath through his nose as he felt the entirety of your body pressed flush against his own. You rose a wide smirk to your face at this action, prompting you to massage your left hand fingers against his skull.
“Wonderful,” he commented with praise before adding, “now what do we do?”
You giggled at his question before you began to sway your hips to the music in a very basic movement.
“Now, Captain,” you gasped out, continuing to embrace him closely, “you feel the music.”
He hummed in response as you felt the movement of his hips to the rhythm. He began very rigidly, almost awkward in his movements before relaxing into it as he fully embraced the music.
You held each other closely and began walking together, moving your hips in different directions as he pressed his hand against your spine. You rolled your torso against him before shimmying your shoulders slightly and continuing to rotate your hips against his right leg as he did with your own. He began to pant slightly at the rapidity of your movements and also the arising sensation building within him.
“And, how do I-,” he began, pausing his sway and holding you to him. You opened your eyes as your face flushed with how intensely he was staring at you.
“-How do I twirl you?” he whispered into your lips as he arched his chin up slightly. You gasped out a small laugh.
“Do you sword fight, Captain?” you asked him.
“Alright, Shanks,” you laughed before reiterating your point, “do you swordfight?”
“Shanks,” he said in a breathy sigh, “call me Shanks.”
“I have been known to engage in swordplay, yes,” he confirmed with a light laugh.
“Alright then, Shanks,” you said, “think of me as a sword; an extension of your body, if it please you.”
He hummed at the notion, as he continued to hold you closely.
“It does please me to think of you extended on my body,” he said before he could halt the words, immediately freezing at his unwilling confession.
You released a melodical laugh before unlacing your fingers from his hair and giving him a light tap on the chest in chastisement. He joined you in laughter before again bringing you back into him.
“As you were to flourish your arm to disarm an opponent,” you said again, bringing your arms to wrap around his neck, “tap me using your fingers to tell me which way you want me. Seriously now, give it a go.”
He inhaled slightly as he attempted to maneuver you in a spin, only to get caught slightly between his knees and topple you over; following your body in the process as you both fell to the ground with a thump. As soon as you fell over, a loud laugh escaped your lips as you gleefully fell into the body of the captain beside you. He laughed as loudly as you did before using his right elbow to lean himself upward to hover his face over your own.
He searched your face for any sort of apprehension as to his proximity, to which your eyes brimmed with no such trepidation. He carefully brought his right hand to your hair as he remained reclined on his singular elbow and wove his fingers into your locks as a sigh escaped his lips.
“Thank you,” he expressed in gratitude.
“What for, Shanks?” you asked him in response.
“For everything,” he uttered to you, “for welcoming my crew ashore with promises of a good time. For rum, for food. For everything.”
You giggled in response, rising on your elbows to bring yourself closer to his adoring face.
“And have you had a good time?” you asked him with an air of sultry flirtation.
“I will have if you let me kiss you,” he said, desire expressed in his low tone as his eyes flittered between the two of your own. Your eyes trailed down to fall on his lightly stubbled chin as you reached your hand up and stroked his rough cheek.
Music resonated in the distance, echoes of the gleeful laughter of his crew and the lively movements of twizzled lambada soared through the air as you closed the distance between you.
You gasped into his mouth as you felt the hunger from his kiss. The desire he had for you earlier in the afternoon toppling over as you engaged in dance together; finally reaching the crescendo of the pinnacle of flirtation within each other’s arms.
You pulled him into you, feeling the whole weight of the red-headed captain as he had no arm to catch himself on. You paid the feeling no mind as you circled your arms over his shoulders and held him against you, hungrily pressing your lips firmly against his. He moaned against your lips as he attempted to maneuver himself to not completely suffocate you beneath him. You hooked your legs over his own and thrust your hips into his, rotating him beneath you, with you straddled over his hips. He groaned at this and placed his hand against your left thigh as he rose his torso up to continue to seek out your lips with his own.
His lips were chapped slightly, tasting of rum and salt from the open sea. He seemingly expertly hoisted himself into a seating position, trailing his hand firmly upwards to the small of your back as he continued to lay rampant kisses into you. You brought your hands to his chest and pushed him back slightly, breaking the kiss but maintaining your former closeness.
“We should return to your crew, Captain,” you breathily mentioned, “they must be wondering where I have taken you by now.”
“I wouldn’t worry, love,” he said bringing his right hand to hook some stray hair behind your ear, “they would have absolutely no intention of coming to seek me out right now.”
“And why might that be?” you asked him in a teasing tone. He laughed lightly before gesturing to you.
“Have you seen what you look like?” he exclaimed while raking his eyes over your body and pausing as he fixated on your chest, “especially at how transparent your dress was earlier,” he growled with a hungry smile.
You again slapped his chest before unlacing your legs from between his own and rising to your feet.
“Come on, Captain,” you said, extending your hand out towards him, “I want to see the bride and groom off.”
He accepted your hand as you leant backwards to hoist him to his feet.
“And then well see where the night takes us,” you suggested, bringing his arm to wrap around your shoulders, in turn lacing yours around his red sash-covered waist.
He pressed his lips to your hairline before whispering against it, a groan exiting his lips absolutely dripping with unrestrained desire: “Promises, promises.”
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theatricalnebula · 3 months
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Bird Symbolism in Revolutionary Girl Utena
There is quite a large amount of bird and bird-related imagery, symbolism, allegories and metaphors in Revolutionary Girl Utena, and i think all of them are very interesting. Here is a ~2000 word essay about the topic.
The Birdcage Garden: Anthy and Ohtori Academy
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This is perhaps the most obvious of the bird symbols in Utena. It is literally Anthy's cage. It is where she, as the Rose Bride, is supposed to spend her time watering the flowers. Touga talks about never letting her out of it once he wins her, and calls her a "lovely little bird." And doesn't that just sum up what so many people's idealized version of her is like? A pretty thing to be admired, only in captivity.
I think the birdcage can also be seen as a sort of microcosm of Ohtori Academy as a whole. Akio does call the school "a garden where people will never become adults," after all, and Anthy is not the only person trapped there, nor is she the only character associated with birds.
According to this analysis, "Ohtori" as a word can mean "big bird" in japanese, and is also a Japanese term for the Fenghuang bird in Chinese mythology, said to be "beautiful, immortal and rules over all birds." Sounds a lot like a certain someone in charge of this place, doesn't it? Which would make every person in Ohtori a bird, symbolically speaking, trapped in the cage that is the academy and ruled by Akio (who, despite being the biggest, and the one with the most control, is also a caged bird.)
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Additionally, the statue on the gate to the dueling arena is in the shape of a bird, before it transforms into a rose when opened. I am not sure exactly what this means, but I assume it is in some way symbolic of Akio, Anthy and Ohtori.
The Bird and the Window: Shiori and Juri
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The bird that flies into the window during Shiori and Juri's conversation in episode 17 is a Java Sparrow. Despite its name, it is a part of the Estrildid Finch family, but I think the symbolism for sparrows fits the context more, as they can represent love, devotion and compainionship, all of which are very relevant for Juri and Shiori.
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The bird is also the symbolic item for Shiori's black rose duel, which means we should associate the bird mainly with her. What, exactly, is the window, then? I think it is symbolic of Shiori's feelings for Juri, Juri's feelings for Shiori, or most likely both. The bird hits the window directly after Juri says "Is that all you have to say to me?" and turns to leave. The bird hits something it could not see in its flight, just as Shiori hits against something that hurts her, even if she doesn't understand it, in her conversation with Juri. The bird is shown to be lying still, presumably dead, after Juri reveals that she was never in love with the boy Shiori "stole" from her.
The bird is shown again after Juri throws her locket in the lake, and before Shiori finds it in her dorm. I've heard it discussed that this implies the bird retrieved the locket (probably through Anthy-as-Mamiya), and if the bird is symbolic of Shiori and the locket is symbolic of Juri's feelings for her, it would mean Shiori is the one to bring them back after Juri tries to rid herself of them. This makes sense.
The Bird Nest: Kozue and Miki
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The bird nest that Kozue rescues from the tree that is going to be cut down is symbolic of her and Miki. Or, at least they are symbolic of how Kozue views the two of them. The comparison is pretty straightforward; Kozue projects her and Miki's feelings of abandonment onto these baby chicks, who have been left behind by their parents, just like the two of them were when their parents divorced. I think she projects her protectiveness over her brother moreso than her own feelings about the whole thing, as Kozue likes to think of herself as very independent ("a wild animal") and very unaffected by it all. As seen by her attempt to save the birds in the first place, she is very willing to put herself at risk, and is less concerned with her own feelings/safety.
Now, I don't want to get too much into speculation, but I have to wonder if there was more going on in the Kaoru family than just the divorce and the too-high expectations for the "twin prodigies." Miki's uncharacteristic cynicism in saying "adults who tell you something is for your own good can never be trusted," as well as Kozue's total disregard for authority and her tendency to use her sexuality as a tool both concern me. Although Miki and Kozue's parents are not explicitly shown to be abusive, I do not think it is a stretch to say that there is a possibility that they were. It explains some of Kozue's behaviour in regards to Miki as well. It's not just posesiveness but protectiveness. She has needed to protect him before, and she feels she needs to protect him still (pushing the predatory teacher down the stairs, saving the birds she sees his innocence in.)
Interestingly enough, Anthy interacts with these chicks as well. She advices Miki on how to feed and take care of them. Utena even comments on how unusually straight forward she's being about the whole thing. This might just be another instance of characterizing Anthy as a person who is fond of animals, and that is certainly part of it, but i think there is more to it as well. If these baby birds are symbolic of (Miki and Kozue's, but also a general) feeling of abandonment by parents/adults, as well as their potential abuse, what does that mean for Anthy not only knowing how to take care of them, but being eager to talk about it? Could it perhaps be that she, like Kozue, sees herself in them? Like Kozue, Anthy herself is symbolically a bird, but a caged one in contrast to Kozue's claims of being a wild animal. Could it be that Anthy has had to become an expert in taking care of those (herself) that have been abandoned or failed or abused by the adults in their lives? Rememeber that this is the same episode where she says that Akio is more like a father to her than a brother. A parallel is indirectly being drawn between him and the Kaoru parents.
If Miki and Kozue's parents were abusive, this might be a rare moment of Anthy empathising with other victims, telling them through metaphor how to take care of themselves. Although, it doesn't keep her from continuing to manipulate them, as she goes on to say her line about returning the chicks to their mother, which is what sets Kozue off. Anthy also says that she's never actually raised chicks before. Maybe she's not very good at taking care of them (herself) after all.
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There's also what looks like two caged parakeets in Miki's flashback of their childhood. I assume this has similar meaning to Anthy's birdcage, as a feeling of being trapped, in this case by their parents' expectations for them. Kozue used to be a caged bird, but now claims to be a wild one, despite still being inside the birdcage that is Ohtori.
Brood Parasitism: Nanami and Touga (and Utena)
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The Kaoru's are not the only sibling pair in Utena to be compared to birds. In Episode 31, Her Tragedy, a pretty unique shadow play is put on in the Chairman's Tower about a cuckoo leaving its egg in another bird's nest, a phenomenon known as brood parasitism. It also references the fairy tale The Ugly Duckling by Hans Christian Andersen. Perhaps the most interesting part of this play is that it's done in the style of the ones in the black rose arc, with C-Ko playing all the roles, the return of the monkey-catching robot, and Utena's fourth-wall breaking commentary at the end. I won't get into what this means, as it doesn't have anything to do with the bird metaphor, but maybe in another post.
This shadow play is about how Nanami and Touga were adopted, and specifically about Nanami's feelings on the matter. Of course adopted children are not parasites, but it makes sense for Nanami to think along those lines, considering her fear of being compared to animals or aliens, and of being ostracized by the society she lives in. Nanami doesn't actually know that she is adopted, only that Touga is, which muddies that interpretation a little. Perhaps it is about Nanami blaming Touga's birth parents for "leaving him in another nest"? Something about her resentment of Touga at this point in time, thinking of him as a parasite in their family? Or simply her fear of what not being his blood-relative means.
I'm more confident about the Ugly Duckling reference, and it being symbolic of Nanami's worry of not fitting in among her peers. Nanami mainly copes with this by thinking that the reason she doesn't fit in, is because she is actually better than everybody else, because she's related to Touga (being a beautiful swan among the common ducks.) The play ends with the cuckoo insisting that it will become a swan one day, when really it can't. It will never be a duck that fits in, either. It will always just be what it is, a parasite (a space-alien. A girl who lays eggs.) This reflects Nanami's despair at the idea that she's "just another fly in the swarm" after her duel in the next episode.
And like all the shadow plays this one can be interpreted as being about Utena as well. She is an orphan who is now being raised in Akio and Anthy's "nest". Although she wasn't placed there by anyone but Akio himself, so it's more about her insecurities about feeling like an outsider in their family. And like the Ugly Duckling/cuckoo, she is also out of place among the rest of the students, and dreams of growing up to be something she can't actually become, in this case a prince. (credits to this analysis on the shadow plays for helping me piece together my thoughts on that. Always cite your sources!)
Cuckoos can also be symbolic of one-sided love, and is the origin of the word cuckoldry. Make of that what you will.
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I should mention that Nanami also lays an egg of her own a few episodes prior. ...Or does she?
Her nightmare sequences show her fears of being compared to a chicken, a turtle, a frog, and of course, a space alien, but it is quite obviously a bird egg. And since we are later shown that Anthy has a chicken named Nanami, much like the cow with the same name, it can be assumed that the egg comes from there, and that Anthy brought it to Nanami's bed, perhaps via Chu-Chu. Could this relate to the brood parasitism of the cuckoo in some way? Is this not one bird (Anthy) laying its egg in another bird's (Nanami's) nest (bed) and getting them to raise it? is this what Anthy means when she tells Miki she has never personally raised chicks? Are all of these metaphors connected??? There's also the fan-theory that Nanami's egg hatched a reincarnated Chu-Chu, and in that case would he be the baby cuckoo while Anthy is the mother and Nanami is the duck? I'll be honest I'm not really sure what to make of it at this point. Draw whatever conclusion you want!
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Last and probably least interesting is the third of Nanami associated bird imagery: the crow in episode 10. Crows can be symbolic of death, and it feels safe to say that this one is just here to set the mood of the scene, and as visual confirmation that the kitten did indeed die. Not too much to say there.
The Chicken and the Egg: The Student Council
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I'd be remiss if i didn't mention the student council's chicken and egg speech in this post as well, even if it has been analyzed to hell and back by hundreds of people before me. It is a reference to Hermann Hesse's book Demian. It is about breaking out of childhood and into adulthood. It is about escaping Ohtori, which is both the egg and the cage (and interestingly enough, during the speech birds can be seen flying by outside the cage of the elevator.) In Nanami's version of the egg speech she mentions "the cage of freedom" and how it cares for the chick. This something that ideally should be true for schools. A place that limits children, but in a way that prepares them for the adult world. Of course, Ohtori as a system has no interest in this, as it is a cage in its most literal sense: a place to keep people trapped. Trapped in their harmful behaviours, in their lack of growth, in their idealized memories of the past, and most of all, in childhood.
And with that, we have come full circle back to Anthy's birdcage as a symbol for all of Ohtori. Thanks for reading :)
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gabessquishytum · 1 month
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One of the Endless is getting married!
Which one is still unknown, but Destiny made the announcement, so it must be true. Someone will give one of the Endless a gift, and that Endless will marry that someone, and that someone will be elevated above all mortals. The prophecy goes out across the universe, and soon all the Endless are heartily sick of being summoned as well as baffled and sometimes insulted by the gifts people think will win them over.
Hob has some contacts with the supernatural and occult world, mostly so he can more easily avoid it. He's heard about the prophecy and wishes the future bride or groom luck but wants absolutely nothing to do with it. He knows a little about the Endless and he'll stay well away from them, thank you anyway. Besides, his dear friend Murphy (and that name was certainly not one Hob had ever considered for his otherworldly stranger) will be visiting soon.
Murphy seems out of sorts, and definitely more sneeringly dismissive of humans than usual. "Mortals are greedy, grasping, selfish creatures" is how the rant starts. Hob wants to cheer him up, so he takes him around London, showing him soup kitchens and charity shops, street art and hospitals. They join in with a park clean up and visit an animal rescue, and the whole time Hob talks of the things he's seen, from large scale organizations to a single act of selflessness.
After a day spent seeing the kinder side of humans, and an opportunity to improve other people's day with small acts of his own, Murphy murmurs, "Thank you, my friend. You have given me a great gift...oh. Oh!"
Hob is told a number of very startling things in very short order after that, but the rest of the Endless are relieved (and honestly, not surprised) that it's Dream who's getting hitched.
This is so adorable!!! I bet all the other siblings were totally sure that it was going to be Dream, and all along he was like "no!!! absolutely not!!!" Well, he clearly didn't count on Hob Gadling being a part of the whole shenanigans.
When Hob finds out that his friend is Dream of the Endless, his first reaction is to be like "really?? and you chose the name MURPHY of all things?!" And Dream is like "Well maybe I won't marry you actually, if you are going to be snarky." But then Hob kisses his cheek, and Dream suddenly stops threatening to renege on the engagement. He'd never imagined that being kissed by Hob would be so amazing. They quickly graduate from chaste kisses to full on making out in the street outside the new inn. The rest of the Endless siblings are totally watching and cheering from the sidelines. Apparently all Dream needed was a golden retriever boyfriend to fix his moody ass with kisses. Hopefully this marriage with last at least a couple of millenia. Deep down, everyone wants to see Dream happy and settled.
Meanwhile Dream and Hob go back to the animal shelter and adopt a kitten together to celebrate the beginning of a beautiful relationship. And to remind Dream that there is goodness in the world, if you have someone to guide you towards it.
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