#said friend now has to help plan their wedding | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

phefics · 5 months

Text

veritaserum

ship: fred weasley x reader x george weasley summary: fred and george dose the reader with a truth serum, which leads to her admitting a sexual fantasy including both brothers. warnings: dubious consent (truth potion is used to make the reader admit her sexual fantasies which then play out), pseudo-inc3st (the twins don't do anything sexual to each other but are both involved in the same sexual scenario), gender-neutral!reader (reader has a vagina but no pronouns are used) word count: 1.9k

Being friends with the Weasley twins was a constant rollercoaster.

There was never a dull moment, always an adventure to go on, a prank to pull, or witty banter bouncing between you and the brothers. Sometimes, you were helping Fred and George pull off their next big joke, but other times, you were their target. Sure, it could be frustrating, but it was also fun for you, and you always found ways to get them back.

You had been friends with the twins since your first year at Hogwarts, and that friendship had continued past Hogwarts and followed you into early-adulthood. You visited them at the flat over their shop in Diagon Alley often, where they showed you prototypes for new products and made you laugh until you cried with their antics.

It was a cold evening when you appeared in their fireplace, a bit dusty from the ashes, and were greeted with excited shouts from Fred and George before being pulled into a group hug.

As you looked up at their grinning faces, you couldn’t believe that there were people who still got the twins confused.

Fred had more freckles on his face, while George’s shoulders and arms had an abundance of them. When Fred laughed, he threw his head back, cackling loudly, while George usually gave more reserved chuckles, laughing down at his lap. And, well, George was fully missing an ear now, and Fred had a large scar on his temple from the Battle, where a piece of castle wall had crashed down on top of him.

“Finally,” Fred said, man-handling you onto the couch. “We’ve been waiting ages!”

“I’m only a few minutes late,” you replied, glancing at their clock, which wasn’t even working—it read 3:15, but it was well past 7:00 judging by the darkness outside.

“And are our few minutes not important to you?” George asked, sitting by your side. “We could have been using that time to come up with more brilliant inventions.”

“Or planned a clever scheme to spill a bucket of water on your head when you arrived,” Fred added.

You rolled your eyes. “I’m terribly sorry to have wasted your precious time,” you said, tone thick with sarcasm.

It was nice catching up with them. They updated you on each member of the Weasley family, such as Fleur’s pregnancy with her and Bill’s first child, or Percy’s upcoming wedding. You updated them on your own life as well, and it wasn’t long until they had pushed a glass of Firewhiskey into your hands.

“So, Y/N,” Fred said, leaning against the back of the couch. You immediately recognized the glint of mischief in his brown eyes, and braced yourself for whatever ridiculous question he was about to pose.

“Which of us do you think is the better looking twin?”

You opened your mouth, intending to say something like ‘neither of you’ or ‘you’re identical—what kind of stupid question is that?’ but the sentence that spilled from your lips instead was, “Well, you look pretty much the same, so I’d say you guys are equally attractive. I think the scar makes you look pretty hot, Fred, but George can really pull off the whole missing ear thing.”

You clapped a hand over your mouth, face burning.

The twins both erupted into giggles.

“Oh, you’re too kind!” George said. “I’m glad you find my lack of an ear sexy.”

“And my scar is flattered,” Fred added.

“What did you two do?” you asked, scowling.

“We might have stumbled upon a vial of Veritaserum…” George said, trying and failing to look guilty. “And put it in your drink. Just a drop, though! It’ll wear off soon.”

You wanted to insult them, yell at them, call them every insult and curse under the sun, but no words would leave your tongue. It was like the truth serum wouldn’t even let you pretend to be pissed off. Sure, this was an invasion of your privacy and totally sketchy, but you had known Fred and George for so long, you were sort of used to their antics by now. You should have been way angrier than you were, but it was just so typical of them, you couldn’t muster much more than annoyance.

What you did manage to say was, “Why?”

Both twins shrugged.

“For fun,” Fred said.

“And because we were curious about something,” George replied.

“About what?”

“About which of us you like better.”

You blinked at them. “Are you serious? We aren’t eleven anymore. Is it really a contest between you two to be the better twin?”

“Not really, no,” Fred said. “Even though we all know that it's me.”

George reached over you to playfully shove his brother’s shoulder. “It’s not about proving anything. We’re just curious. So, Y/N, who do you like better: me or Freddie?”

“I like you equally,” you said. “You are both hilarious, intelligent, and my best friends. I find it easier to connect with George on serious things, but Fred always knows the right thing to say when I need cheering up.”

Your face was flushing deeper, embarrassed at the cheesy, sentimental words that left your mouth. Fred and George had grown up in an incredibly loving, affectionate family and had never shied away from making their love known, but it was awkward to voice your own feelings out loud like that.

Both twins seemed rather touched, though

“Wow, I was expecting you to have to pick,” Fred said. “But that’s oddly sweet.”

You groaned. “Okay, okay, yes, I love you both, can we knock this off now?”

“No, we have more questions!”

“Such as…?”

“Would you fuck either of us?” George asked.

Fred was normally the more vulgar of the two, and the question coming from George’s lips instead took you even more off guard.

“Yes,” you said, unable to stop yourself. “Either of you. Or both of you.”

“At the same time?”

“Yes.”

Fred and George also showed their emotions differently. Fred was better at keeping his feelings to himself, but when he was flustered, his ears would turn pink. His ears had flushed slightly, and his eyes were wide as he licked his lips, clearly intrigued by your answer. George was also flushed, but the color went to his face, and he brushed his thumbs repeatedly over his thighs, a nervous tick he’d always had.

“Have you thought about this a lot?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Tell us how you’d want it.”

You couldn’t help but answer. “I would let you strip off my clothes, groping me. One of you is behind me, kissing my neck as you take off my shirt. The other is at my feet, pulling my pants down. Neither of you shut up the whole time, talking about me like I’m not even there. Commenting to each other about how pretty I am, how wet my pussy is for you. Whoever is between my legs starts to go down on me, while the other holds my body still so I can’t move away from how good it feels. I cum on your tongue, and the other wants a turn, too…”

The twins were both clearly aroused as you spoke.

“Do you want that? Now?” Fred asked, his voice low.

“Yes,” you breathed.

They waste no time switching their positions on the couch, George pulling your back against his chest while Fred positions himself between your legs, his hands eagerly moving to the waistband of your pants, tugging at it.

George took his time, hands sliding up your shirt, touching softly as he felt you up, his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck, lips teasing the skin there.

You couldn’t help but whine under their touches, loving every moment of it. You had truly dreamt of this for years, always too afraid to ruin the friendship. Sure, you had kissed both twins for dares back at school, but this was real and intimate and beautiful.

Fred made quick work of getting your bottom half undressed, and he kissed his ways along your thighs, cupping your ass with one hand, squeezing hard.

“So fuckin’ hot,” George breathed.

“I know, right?” Fred replied. “So good for us, too. Are we making your fantasy come true, love?”

You nodded, whimpering softly.

“So needy, too. You want to cum for us?”

You nodded again. “Yes, yes please.”

George chuckled, nipping at your ear as Fred’s mouth finally reached your pussy, his tongue licking tentatively at you before he found your clit, which he immediately focused his attention on.

Your noises only grew louder, more desperate.

“Already? You’re not very good at this whole build-up thing, Freddie,” George said.

“I think we’ve waited long enough for this,” Fred replied before returning to his task.

“You don’t want to be patient, do you, darling?” George asked, hugging you tightly from behind. “You’ve wanted this for so long, you just want to be good for us, take everything we’ve got?”

“Fuck yes,” you moan.

Fred was clearly just as eager as you are, apparently trying to make you cum as quickly as possible, like he was placing bets in his head.

“You like that, hm? Is he good at it? Making you feel good?” George said.

“Feels so fucking good.”

“Good. You gonna cum for him?”

“Yes, yes, I’m—”

It didn’t take long at all. Fred’s tongue was good for more than just witty comments, and your legs trembled as he sat up, lips shining with your slick and a smug smile on his face.

“I think this is the part where we switch jobs, Georgie.”

Your pussy was already so wet, so sensitive, you knew that George would be able to make you cum fast, too. It was almost embarrassing how easy you were, how turned on they made you.

The twins switched positions, and Fred wrapped his arms around your middle sweetly, dragging his fingers over your waist and making goosebumps spread over your abdomen, squirming in his grasp.

“Don’t try and get away, sweet thing,” Fred said. “Otherwise George won’t be able to have his turn. Just be good for us, okay? Be a good little slut.”

You whined, face hot as George’s lips found your inner thighs and kissed the skin there, slowly, teasingly. He was the more patient, more methodical of the two. He wasn’t going to go straight for your clit, he was going to keep you wanting. Maybe until you begged.

Fred began sucking a hickey into your throat, leaving you a moaning mess as the twins both worshiped your body like it was something sacred.

Finally, George’s tongue found your pussy, teasing your hole and folds before even bothering to touch your clit.

“Should he put his fingers inside you?” Fred asked.

You nodded fervently, thrusting your hips.

George complied immediately, sliding one finger inside which was quickly followed by a second, pumping slowly before curling into that special spot, which he had found surprisingly easily.

Your second orgasm came just as quickly as the first, your hands balling into fists and your toes curling. Once your body was able to relax, you looked up through teary eyes to see George licking your taste off of his fingers.

“Was that everything you dreamed?” Fred asked.

You opened your mouth, expecting the answer to roll off your tongue, but it didn’t. You realized that the potion had worn off, and smirked.

“It could have been better,” you said, thrilled with your ability to lie again.

Obviously, Fred and George had to remedy that immediately.

#fred weasley x reader #george weasley x reader #weasley twins x reader #fred weasley smut #george weasley smut #weasley twins smut #hp fic #ophelia's fics

2K notes · View notes

rash0roar · 2 months

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐬 🩷 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐟!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Summary : Lucifer and reader get invited to Ozzie and Fizz's wedding, and Lucifer has a surprise planned at the end

★ type : fluff

★ warnings : a bit of suggestive language <3

a / n : I saw two Twitter posts and the idea came fast tbh ; sorry if there are some grammar mistakes I forgot to fix ; this is my first story and post so I hope you'll enjoy <3

"Lucifer! Lucifer!" The sound of excited steps echoed through the lonely halls of Lucifer's castle. You excitedly barged into his rubber duck filled office holding an envelope. "Woah Woah love! What's the rush? " Stopping in front of your boyfriend you smiled, jumping up and down. "Lucifer you won't believe what we got!" You handed him the paper, that has been opened once, smiling and gesturing him to open it again. Lucifer looked at the envelope closely. " 's from Ozzie? You nodded. "Mhm!"

Opening the envelope, Lucifer took out the latter and it's- , an invitation? "An invitation? To what?" Lucifer looked at you seeing your smile became wider and your eyes were sparkling. Lucifer looked at the invitation reading it closely. You quietly laughed at his eyes becoming wider by the second. "Ozzie getting married?!? Well, that's certainly something I'd never thought I'd catch in this life. Hm, seems like the wedding is next week" "I know! Isn't it great! It's gonna be so fun- oh, I forgot, are you ok with getting out love? If it's too much we can stay home, I don't mind" "Are you kidding? This is the first time I'm actually excited in my boots for something! Besides it's Ozzie. He's, well, he's my best friend, kind of. So I can at least go to his wedding as a sorry for not talking to him as we usually would do" You smiled at your lover sweetly. "That's so sweet of you Lucifer" You said while kissing his forehead. At that he smiled. "Well, I guess someone should go search for some matching outfits for us don't you think?" His face became a tint of pink at the sight of your eyes lighting up. "Matching?! Really?! You bet! Let your girlfriend take care of this" You gave him a kiss on the cheek before turning around and running to another room.

Lucifer made sure you were far enough before he slowly closed his office doors. "Oh my golly, oh my golly! Ok Lucifer calm down, you already discussed this with Ozzie, it's gonna be ok you definitely got this don't panic. . . OH WHO AM I KIDDING I'M PANICKING RIGHT NOW!!" He took his phone and started texting Ozzie, searching for some sort of support from his friend. While walking in circles around his office, Lucifer looked at the little box hidden well from your eyes in his office.

The week has passed quite fast, you and Lucifer were getting more and more excited for what was about to come. In the morning of the wedding, you were in yours and Lucifer's room, preparing the outfits you were about to wear. In the other room Lucifer was tapping his feet on the floor nervously, thinking about the surprise he had planned for you. He remembers well when he went to Ozzie for support, telling him his idea. The sin of Lust was more than happy to help, suggesting Lucifer to wait for the right time. Never in a million years did Lucifer think that, Ozzie would text him and say that his wedding is the perfect time. He found it weird. He felt bad too. His friend was good at heart, but a part of him felt bad for accepting his idea despite the fact that this was not about him, but his friend. "Lucifer! Come on we have to get ready! No time to waste!" He laughed at the sound of your voice, forgetting his thoughts from earlier.

As he entered the room, he saw you searching through your drawers. You lifted your head and looked at him. "There you are! Come on Lu, get dressed will you? We have a lot to do besides getting dressed" "And that would be what, my love?" "Well your hair and makeup of course! You're the king of hell, you need to look nice remember that" Lucifer laughed, this was one of his favorite ways of you showing you loved him. Always making sure he looks good when he goes out. He loved that about you. Lucifer went to pick up his outfit. He saw you choose two suits, he remembered you mentioning that dresses weren't for you. He would always disagree. Both of the suits were red with gold and just a bit of white, since white is worn by the married couple. The red suit didn't look too different from his regular one, just that he would have to wear a white and gold shirt beneath it. Your suit, was also a red one with a long tailcoat, Lucifer thought that it's so that he could represent the back of a dress, as the back of his suit was straight, yours had a wavey back. The fact that Lucifer would finally wear matching outfits with you brought a red color to his cheeks.

After a while, you both were ready to go. Lucifer was missing his hat ( also complaining about it ) as you had your hair styled in an "elf way" you said to Lucifer after you did it ( Lucifer never understood your movie references ), tied in a very nice pin with roses and an apple ( gift from the king himself ). "I guess you're ready no?" You nodded taking his hand as the Lucifer tapped the cane on the ground and teleported to you at the location of the wedding. And oh my were you stunned.

You never knew hell had a forest before. Well, you've figured the wedding will be in a hidden place. Lucifer told you once the fact that not many people knew about Ozzie's relationship with an imp, he has told you that the sins and royal princes were looked down on if that were to happen. That made you question if you were enough for him lots of times. "My my is that Lulu I see?!?" Looking in front of you, you saw a yellow fox with wings with a neon light to replace her stomach. "Boy I haven't seen you in years! How 've ya been?" Lucifer smiled at her. "Well, I couldn't miss this even if I wanted right? Oh! Right! Ahem. Love, this is Beelzebub! I've told you a lot about her remember?" "OMG! Is this your new girlfriend? Girl you are adorable! Call me Bee, you're like, my bestie now. What's your name?" "I'm Y/N! It's nice to finally meet you Bee!" "You're absolutely gorgeous, I like love your voice! You should definitely come to my parties one time!" You laughed. If she was like that, you couldn't wait to meet Asmodeus for the first time. "Now you two lovebirds come on! You both have to meet the crew!" You looked at Lucifer. He was nervous, he never was the kind to be around people. You put a reassuring hand on his shoulder smiling. He smiled back. "I'll be fine, don't worry my duckling" He smiled and took your hand following Bee inside. The inside was very pretty too. You haven't been to a wedding since forever, you enjoyed it. It wasn't a surprise there weren't many people. Bee was gesturing you and Lucifer to come, you've both gone to her, as you were walking, you saw two other hellhounds on both of Bee's sides, a group of little imps and two goetias. You had to remind Lucifer about the beauty of hell after this. "Ok now you guys, this right here, is my boyfriend Vortex, and this here is my favorite person ever Loona! You'll love them once you get to know them!" "Hello you two! Nice to meet you!" You said while Lucifer nodded and gave a small wave. "Nice to meet ya too your majesty" "Yo" Your majesty? Well that's new. "No ,uh, please don't call me that! Me and Lucifer we are not engaged so I'm not really the queen" You couldn't miss how all three smiled at each other after you've said that. Did you say something funny? While looking at them you failed to notice Lucifer's red face next to you.

"So you're the king of hell's new bitch huh? I'm Blitz! And I'm the leader of the imp! And these two lovebirds behind me are M&M. Actually, Millie and Moxxie. And that there is my lovely daughter Loona! Hi Loonie!" "ADOPTED" "Lucifer. Lucifer they are adorable what the actual hell" "You think so? Well, I can't argue with you I guess"

You couldn't keep it, the little imps were absolutely adorable! The gotia demons too! Stolas and his daughter Octavia were very nice , you found it relaxing to stay around them. Although, you've been meaning to ask if Stolas is ok, he always seemed to be tired and sad.

The rest of the night was absolutely amazing! You swore you'd never forget it. Not even the fact that you and Lucifer were asked to be the man and lady of honor in the last moment! Looking at the couple, you were thinking, what if you and Lucifer were in that place? Here in hell, with these people at your wedding. You wished it could be you indeed, but, you were happy for them. These kind of things weren't too common in hell, heck they don't happen at all actually! Seeing this, you hoped Lucifer would see the good part in hell.

As the night went on you noticed that everyone started on getting more and more excited, and Lucifer, more and more...frustrated..? Why was that? What's happening? Is there something you should know? "Alright everyone! Listen up!" You looked in the direction of where the voice was coming from, it was Fizz's. "I'm throwing this flower bouquet, so let's see who's the lucky bitch that'll catch it!" ONE - everyone was getting ready - TWO - everyone's on their position - THREE!! GO!!!" "I got it I got" "Nuh uh! I do! " As Blitz and Bee were fighting, forgetting about the bouquet, you watched it carefully, closer, closer, and - "I GOT IT I GOT IT! HAH! YES! I GO - why is everyone looking at me like that?" You turned back at everyone, noticing everyone looked at you smiling softly, or, at something.. behind you? "Why is everyone - ohmydear" Turning behind you, you saw him. Lucifer was behind you, on one knee, looking at you with a soft smile. "Y/N, I know this is really sudden but, you've been beside me for a long time, you've helped me through my problems, supported me and took care of me. I love you so much, I really really do, so will you please...make me the happiest man in hell and, marry me?" You could see it, he was crying, as he opened the box that revealed a beautiful golden ring, you looked at him with your hands over your mouth, you could not, not cry. You nodded, sobbing loudly running in Lucifer's arms and hugging him tightly. "Yes, a hundred times yes, Lucifer I love you!" "Me too, me too my love. You have no idea" He took your face in his arms and kissed you. "LET'S FUCKING GO SHE SAID YES YEEAAAHHHH!!" EVERYONE OPEN THE CHAMPAGNE BOTTLES!" You and Lucifer laughed at the sight of Bee, Blitz, Ozzie and Fizz laughing and screaming at the news. Millie, Moxxie and Stolas were beyond happy, Millie hugged you while Stolas was staying besides Lucifer, congratulating him for it.

You all knew?" "Well yeah! We all helped him actually, man was he a big ball of stress and anxiety. But hey he did it! Yes! Finally! Man I'm SO HAPPY! Let me be your lady of honor pleeeeaaase?" "Of course Bee!" "Sooo, when's the wedding?" You looked at Lucifer"Yeah, when is it?" "How about next month? YOU'RE ALL INVITED NO ONE ELSE THOUGH! "YYEAAAAHHHHH"

They were happy, all of them. You squished Lucifer's hand. "Thank you, Lucifer" "No love, I thank you, I think the wedding will go well, don't you?" "Yeah - you said watching everyone party like at the beginning of the party - yeah me too" You turned at Lucifer and kissed him lovingly as he returned it.

Once the party ended, you both went to bed and cuddled next to each other. And as Lucifer whispered a love you, after you did the same you both fell asleep, the moonlight reflecting in you and Lucifer's golden rings.

a / n : let me know if you guys want a part 2 with Lucifer and the reader's wedding! <3

#hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel x you #helluva boss #hazbin hotel x helluva boss

709 notes · View notes

edenesth · 3 months

Text

The Way to His Heart [8]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 7 | Fic Masterlist | Part 9

"Sir, the dressmaker has arrived with the mistress' first batch of clothes. Should I send him directly to the House of Lotus?" Jongho asked tentatively from the entrance of his master's study.

Removing his hands from his head, Seonghwa looked up and shook his head miserably, "Lord, no. Send him to me first," The assistant bowed and went to do as he was told, "Right away, sir."

Hongjoong entered the study without bothering to knock, hands propped on his hip as he stared at your husband, unamused, "Would you mind explaining why I'm here instead of presenting the new clothes to your wife, Park Seonghwa?"

"I need advice, Hongjoong." The general croaked, feeling quite lost for once. He had rarely ever been in such a situation; who knew all it took was one woman to put him in such misery. Not even the most vicious enemies he had fought in war could have ever fazed him this much.

He returned from work the day before, enthusiastically sharing his plans for the grand wedding he wanted to give you. However, things went south when he dropped the bomb about the visit to your old home, foolishly believing you would express joy at the prospect of flaunting your newfound happiness to your wicked family. Instead, you were gripped with fear at the idea. You ended up retiring to your quarters early and refused to come out ever since.

Goddamnit, I'm the biggest moron ever.

The dressmaker raised an amused brow, having never seen Seonghwa like this before. He went over to sit down across from his friend, "Hmm, I didn't think you'd be having trouble in paradise this soon. Let's hear it; we'll see if there's anything I can do for you and that lovely wife of yours."

Taking a deep breath, your husband started from the beginning, recounting every single thing that happened from the start of your arranged marriage until the present.

"Wait, you're taking her back to that wretched place? No wonder she's upset, you idiot! You said it yourself; she suffered so badly being caged in there all her life. I mean, sure, your cause is very noble—wanting to make her family pay for what they've done with this plan of yours. But you'd been so focused on that, you forgot how traumatising it could be for her, huh? You really didn't think that one through, my friend."

Letting out a groan, the general pulled at his hair, "Yes, thank you for repeating it all to me like I didn't already know what I did wrong. Now, tell me what exactly it is that I can do to make it all better."

"You're welcome. Oh, I'll tell you what to do, all right. You best keep your dumbass seated here while I talk to her," instructed Hongjoong, watching expectantly as your husband frowned, "What? Why should you talk to her? It's my mess; I should be the one to clean it up."

Sighing, the dressmaker explained, "Look, we all know the only way for you to make things better is to not take her back to the damn house at all. But you do have a point, okay? You've come this far with your plan, and as much as it sucks, she must go there with you in order for this to work out. So, you stay put, and let me convince her to go willingly with you, got it?"

Seonghwa nodded reluctantly, realising his friend was right. As much as he hated how charming Hongjoong was and how persuasive he could be, he would have to rely on those skills to help you see things in the bigger picture. Sure, you were not privy to any details about the revenge, but hopefully, he will be able to make you at least want to stand up to your family for once.

"Lady Park, it's Hongjoong. I've brought your first batch of clothing. May I have permission to enter?" Blinking in surprise, you straightened up, not expecting to hear the dressmaker's voice, "O-okay, please come in."

Despite the anxious state you'd been in since the revelation your husband had dropped upon you the night before, you couldn't help but smile at the unusually colourful outfit of your visitor. Eunsook followed behind him with a group of servants filing in to deliver the precious cargo into your quarters.

The head maid felt relieved to see you smiling again, even if it was only a little. She had been concerned about you after witnessing your retreat into your old shell the previous night, as the fear you demonstrated reminded everyone of your initial arrival.

In an effort to distract you from your upsetting thoughts, the dressmaker quickly pulled out a few designs he thought you'd love, "Come, take a look at this! I made it the way you preferred and added a little touch of my magic. What do you think?"

Fortunately, his strategy worked like a charm, and you immediately moved over to him with sparkly eyes, marvelling at some of the most beautiful hanboks you'd ever seen, even prettier than the ones he had displayed in his shop.

As you admired the clothes in front of you, Hongjoong exchanged a knowing look with the elderly woman. Nodding, she quietly exited your room along with the rest of the servants, leaving you alone with your husband's old friend.

But you weren't entirely alone, of course.

Unbeknownst to you, Seonghwa was right outside, listening intently. He didn't spare any of his servants a glance as they all passed by him with a deep bow, waving his hand carelessly in a gesture to ask them to leave quickly.

"Hey, you haven't answered me. Do you like them, Lady Park?" The dressmaker asked, a teasing smile on his face as he found your endearing shyness adorable.

You nodded quickly, "Yes, I do. I love them. They're all perfect. I just... don't know if I deserve to wear any of these." The general felt his heart clench at your response, realising you were still far from being able to love yourself.

With a scoff, Hongjoong moved to stand beside you, "I'll have you know I only make dresses for people I deem worthy of them. Not just anyone can wear my designs, you know. And you, by far, are probably my favourite client. So that says a lot."

Your husband silently agreed with those words, resisting the urge to rush in there and hold you tight, to tell you that you deserved only the best, that you deserved everything good in the world.

Lowering your head, you fiddled with your fingers before replying in a small voice, "You're only saying that because I'm the general's wife..."

Sighing lightly, the dressmaker turned to face you, "You're not wrong... but that's exactly because not just anyone can be Lady Park. Many women before you tried to be in your position. Regardless of their efforts, he never would have given them the time of day. Yet, he wholeheartedly accepted you."

Recognising the doubt in your eyes, he further explained, "I understand if you think these are just words. But that's probably because you don't know the general like I do. We've known each other since joining the military in our teens. Back then, the Seonghwa I knew would never bat an eyelash at any woman."

As you slowly looked up to meet his kind eyes, intrigued to learn more about your husband's past, he continued, "Those rumours about him being the cold-blooded general were not lies. He really was as merciless as they say. He still is, just not to you. When I saw him again for the first time after years that day, I couldn't believe the man in front of me was the same friend I once knew. He's different around you; he's different because of you."

"It's evident that you're special to him, that you mean something to him. He cares so much about you; do you realise that?"

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you hurriedly blinked them back. The thought of someone genuinely caring for you still seemed surreal despite the amount of care that had been shown to you since living here. However, you were starting to understand that he was right.

Hongjoong grinned, seeing the effectiveness of his words, "You're the first and only woman who can tame Park Seonghwa, so you are beyond worthy of my dresses."

Before you could even attempt to protest, he held up a hand, "And don't bother telling me I'm wrong because I'm never wrong."

You couldn't help but giggle at his sassy words, and he smiled sincerely at you, saying, "So don't you dare question whether you deserve these clothes. You're the only one who deserves them because these are made only for you, do you understand?"

This time, you nodded with a wide smile.

"I want you to wear my dresses proudly and show the world who you are: the great Lady Park, the only woman General Park wants as his wife. No one will dare disrespect or look down on you again."

Feeling as if he knew exactly what had been worrying you, you felt touched. He was right; you were not who you used to be. You had no reason to cower from your family, recalling their belittling assumptions about your survival in this marriage. Now was your chance to prove them wrong.

With newfound determination, you nodded firmly, "You're right, I will. Thank you, Hongjoong. You're a good friend; Seonghwa is lucky to have you."

He crossed his arms over his chest cheekily, "I sure am. That fool hasn't a clue how fortunate he is."

Mission accomplished.

Pumping his fists in victory, your husband silently cheered outside, brushing off the playful taunts from his friend. Just this once, he would forgive Kim Hongjoong.

"Are you ready, my dear?"

The general turned to you as your carriage came to a stop, marking your arrival at what you assumed to be the Jang estate, your former prison. With a resolute nod, you smiled up at him, "I am."

As you moved to exit the vehicle, your husband halted you. Cupping your face in his hands, he gazed reassuringly into your eyes, "Remember, whatever happens, I'm here with you. You're not alone from now on; I'll always be here to protect you."

"I know, Seonghwa. I believe in you."

His heart melted at those words, and he couldn't resist pressing a lingering kiss onto your forehead. You fluttered your eyes closed, holding onto his wrists, cherishing the warmth he was providing.

"Alright, let's go." Leaving one final peck on your cheek, he got out of the carriage and swiftly helped you down, his strong arm securely wrapped around your waist. Eunsook stood there, mouth agape, that was initially meant to be her responsibility but she realised her assistance was no longer needed at the moment.

Jongho grinned, nudging the elderly woman on the shoulder as they followed their master and mistress into the minister's estate, "Come on, we've got work to do."

Taking a deep breath, you surveyed the familiar surroundings that once made you feel small. Feeling a reassuring squeeze on your hand, you found comfort in your husband's presence.

Yes, he's here with you now.

Nothing bad will happen.

His grip on your hand tightened, and his warm smile, reserved only for you, vanished when a few of your father's servants nervously stumbled out, bowing deeply before both of you, "Good morning, General Park. Welcome to the Jang estate."

The brave front you had put on seemed to falter slightly as you realised the servants here remained the same, showing no acknowledgement despite you no longer being their prisoner. Seonghwa, glaring at the maids in front of him, growled in a low voice, "You've left out Lady Park. Will you not greet my wife?"

Gulping on behalf of the servants, you witnessed the return of the general's intimidating demeanour. Hongjoong was right; he was still terrifying, just not to you.

The maids bowed deeper, "B-but sir—"

"What is going on here?" That voice resonated across the courtyard, causing your heart to plummet to the lowest pit of your stomach. Perhaps you weren't ready to face them at all. Your father emerged from the main hall, wearing an expression that was far from pleased.

You pressed closer to your husband, and instinctively, he wrapped an arm around your back, pulling you close. The minister's eyebrow raised in surprise at your refined appearance; he nearly did not recognise you. You were even more stunning than on the day you left this place, seemingly given a complete makeover.

Aside from that, he realised the general had meant his words when he had spoken so highly of you during assembly. Witnessing the intimacy between the two of you, there was undeniable evidence of shared affection. Your father began to question whether marrying you to his enemy was a mistake in the first place.

Seonghwa smirked, "Ahh, Minister Jang, it seems your servants do not know proper manners. They did not greet my wife, and that, to me, is punishable."

The old man felt his eye twitch at the general's satisfied grin before responding, "Well, I'm their master, so I decide what is punishable, General Park."

"Right, well, I'm just looking out for you. Wouldn't want people to find out what rotten-mannered staff my father-in-law has in his estate, not knowing how to show respect to even the general's wife."

"You do realise that before she became your wife, she's my daughter first." Your father sneered, and you felt sick at that, to be called his daughter when you've never once been treated as such.

Remaining unfazed, your husband retorted, "All the more reasons for them to show respect to their eldest miss then, no?"

Jongho and Eunsook bowed their heads in an effort to hide their snickers at the minister's red face flushing in embarrassment. He should have known better than to think he could win the general in an argument, "R-right. What are you fools standing around for? Show Lady Park some bloody respect!"

The line of servants bowed all the way down pathetically, "Yes, master! Good morning, General Park and Lady Park! Welcome to the Jang estate!" They chanted loudly, enough to bring about the rest of your family, coming out to witness what all the fuss was about.

"Very well, let us head in then." With a bored expression, Seonghwa walked into the hall with you, moving right past your stepmother and stepsisters intentionally, paying them no mind as he helped you into a seat before settling down beside you.

All four of the women standing in the main hall were rooted to their spots, eyes bulging as they took in the sight of you and your husband. First of all, you were nearly unrecognisable. If they thought you looked pretty on the day you got married, you were now almost a hundred times more beautiful, though they would rather die than ever admit it out loud.

Beyond your enhanced appearance, they were more taken aback by the general's beauty. He was nothing like they had imagined; he must have been one of the most attractive men ever, or at least the most handsome one they had seen so far.

Suddenly, your stepsisters were even angrier than they were upon learning about your stupid grand wedding. They were now furious with their father for never having told them about how good-looking General Park truly was. If only they knew, they would have volunteered to marry him themselves.

But what if there was still hope for them?

What if they had a chance?

After all, you hadn't officially wed Seonghwa yet and were merely here to discuss plans for the upcoming ceremony. Perhaps, with enough effort, they could still win him over. If a peasant like you could seduce the general, why couldn't any of them? With this determination in mind, the three stepsisters promptly began adjusting their appearances as you all gathered around the main hall.

You didn't appreciate the way your stepsisters were eyeing your husband, although you understood their motives. Sensing your discomfort, Seonghwa moved closer to you in his seat, whispering in your ear, "Are you feeling alright, my dear?"

Nodding lightly, you looked up with a small smile, "I am, as long as you're with me," He couldn't resist smiling at your words as he gave you a gentle peck on the head, "Good."

That should be me!

The three stepsisters clenched their fists, their fury intensifying as they witnessed the handsome general being affectionate with you. It should have been them; the title of the general's wife was more befitting a noblewoman like them, not a rat like you. How dare you sit there in their place as if you deserved it?

In an attempt to break the silence, Jinah cleared her throat and made her move, "Have you been well, unnie? I missed you so much! Did you know how worried I was about you? You must have had such a hard time, especially after you adamantly refused to marry General Park."

Seonghwa raised a brow in amusement, while you remained quiet, unsure how to respond to such a blatant lie. Jinjoo scoffed at your lack of response, "Unnie! Will you really not answer Jinah at all? You've always been like that, so ungrateful when we care so much about you!"

"Really? My wife being ungrateful? That's wild. I cannot imagine her like that at all." Your husband chuckled, holding you close when he felt you begin to tremble.

Jinhee's fists shook with envy as she nodded pitifully, "Yes, that's because you haven't known her well enough, my lord. She can be so scary when she's mad, you know how the eldest usually are."

Minister Jang rubbed a tired hand over his head when he realised what his stepdaughters were trying to do. Of course, these foolish girls would easily be blinded by the general's appearance. Even his own wife, seated beside him, found it difficult to take her eyes off the gorgeous young man.

Jongho and Eunsook, positioned behind you and their master, were making every effort to contain the irritation they felt. The audacity of these women to feign innocence after what they've put you through all these years. They were once again thankful not to have any of these conniving foxes as their mistress.

Rubbing his thumbs over your hands, Seonghwa laughed sarcastically in disbelief, "I'm sorry, I just find that so hard to believe. Are you sure you're not all talking about yourselves?" In an instant, his smile dropped, and he sent your stepsisters a death stare as if daring them to continue spouting more ridiculous lies about you.

Left in stunned silence, they blinked nervously and avoided his eyes, unprepared for his questioning. It was clear that they hadn't planned their silly little act thoroughly.

Damn it, how did that worthless thing manage to gain his favour?

"That's enough." The minister declared firmly, not wanting his stepdaughters to continue embarrassing themselves. All he wanted was to get the general out of his house as soon as possible. Every moment that Seonghwa remained felt like a threat; your father was walking on eggshells around him.

Pushing himself off his seat, the old man addressed your husband, "You mentioned wanting to see the environment your wife grew up in, right? Let's proceed with that before we delve into discussions about your wedding arrangements. I don't have all day."

"Sure, can't wait." Seonghwa responded smugly, standing up with your hand securely in his. A sense of unease washed over you as you wondered what kind of deception your father would employ. Surely, they wouldn't be stupid enough to reveal your actual room to the general. Dread filled you, and you longed to return home.

Your real home, not this nightmare.

« Preview of Part 9 »

As you all followed the minister around the estate while he showed the general what was supposed to be your old room, Jongho exchanged a glance with the private investigator who was still posing as a staff member in the estate.

"This is unnie's room; she has the biggest and nicest one out of all of us. She's so lucky and doesn't even know it. I'm the youngest and I have the smallest room; I'd honestly be happy to have anything at all." Jinjoo said innocently, playing with a strand of hair as she batted her eyelashes at Seonghwa.

You stared blankly at the room supposedly designated as yours. It was merely a guest room rearranged with some of your stepsisters' belongings to create the illusion of long-term habitation. Sensing Jinah and Jinhee's intense gazes on you, you turned to find them glaring daggers at you as if daring you to speak up and disclose the truth to your husband.

If you voiced your denial, who would believe you? It was your entire family against you alone. Would there even be a point in trying?

Just as doubt started to creep in, Seonghwa wrapped an arm around you, reminding you of his support, "Is that true, my dear? Is this your room? It doesn't really seem to be your style at all."

Everyone held their breath, awaiting your response, but you remained silent, fixing your gaze on the familiar space where you spent your entire life, now masquerading as a storeroom.

"What is it that you're staring at so intently, hm? Let's go take a look."

Oh, crap.

Shit will go down in the next part, I assure you. Patience, my dearest readers, patience HAHA this part was focused more on setting the stage for the main event.😈

Also, I've created a mood board for this fic. If you haven't already checked it out, go take a look! I might consider making another one that depicts Seonghwa's estate if I'm able to find the right images.

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

Tag list (1/3): @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @ssrnghwa @yunnieo @sunnyhokyu @lynnsqueendom @frobin4ever @chwesuh-imnida @thunderous-wolf @itstheghostofmypast @professormingisglasses @deltamoon666 @avantalem @famishalll @yungilia @soobiverse @joongified @scuzmunkie @http-gyu @mentoslol @atinyreads @angel-hyuckie @anxiousskylar @onedumbho3 @narashii @ddaeing @sanstreasure0305 @sohnfile @scarfac3 @dreamingofyeo @puppyminnnie @tinyteezer @vantediary @satsuri3su @mismatchfluffysocks @aliona124754 @bts-army380 @lilactangerine @atinyniki @pay13 @1117promises @xoxkii @st4rcig4r @hikarii02 @nescaffei @xdolls-crownx @ashrocker123 @skzline @minkiflwr @starssongs98 @baeksofty @skz1-4-3 @kawaiikels @madnpan @maoyueze @en-happiness @cheolliehugs @persnyako @startinystay @chngbnwf @fatspecimen @christinerose380 @stfu-rina @kyukyustar @taytayy178

Tag list (cont.): see comment/reply section

#edenesth #the way to this heart #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #park seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #arranged marriage au #joseon era #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #ateez fic #historical au

697 notes · View notes

dalliancekay · 1 month

Text

Aziraphale does NOT need to suffer MORE

Can't believe I have to say this. TW: grief, mourning, death (sorry) I have, since falling into the fandom 6 months ago to escape real life, seen many takes on how Aziraphale needs to suffer in S3 to match Crowley's suffering. Mainly as the counterpart to the moment Crowley thinks he lost Aziraphale as he's looking for him desperately in the burning bookshop.

Then drinks, we suppose, to dull his pain, waiting for the Armageddon. Also, the way Crowley suffers at the bandstand argument, the 'I Forgive You' moments, which many people find utterly devastating and incredibly heartless from Aziraphale. Not to mention when he doesn't react in the 'right way' to Crowley's confession in the Final 15. And then on top of that, 'abandons' Crowley. Oh and also for, and I quote: "The smug and entitled way Aziraphale went around in S2 assuming Crowley would love and follow him everywhere." And for all this pain that Crowley endured for him, Aziraphale should suffer in S3, to I assume, even out the scores. Some people want to see him lose it, show his emotions, to cry or beg or otherwise show how much he misses Crowley and how very sorry he is for what he's done.

Now for the TW grief content I motioned above. You can skip to the next sentence in bold.

WE ALL SUFFER DIFFERENTLY I was on holiday late September last year, visiting my mum, stepfather and my two younger brothers. We went to a cousin's wedding. It was great. The day after, as I was hanging out reading a book my mum got a call. The kind of call every mother fears. My youngest brother (he was 27) died in an accident. We needed to speak to police and the coroner. She cried and cried. She's still crying. She asks questions. She gets no answers. I did not cry. I talked to the police. I googled a funeral home. I bought my brother his last set of clothes. He lived in a hoodie and torn black jeans. Mum wanted a suit. But he died in the one he bought for the wedding. I texted a lot of people. I bought snacks for the many friends who came to the funeral and wanted to speak to us after. My grief feels like a vice. I am not sad. I do not appear sad. Contrary to what people expect. But I am ANGRY. I am furious. But nobody can see this. I am not fine and I wish no one would ever* ask how I was again. TW/Personal content over. Since I was small (because I am weird like that) I genuinely wondered if, finding myself in danger, I could scream like people in films do. I don't think I could. I cope with hard situations, fear and stress and anxiety by shutting down, sometimes by retreating too, by furiously trying to find a way out. And I think Aziraphale does the same. And that's why I love him so much. And why I feel get him and understand that people sometimes can't tell how much he's actually feeling. I also express love the way Aziraphale does - by organising things for people I love, inviting them places, making plans. When Crowley said you call me for three things (and it's basically any old reason) I felt SO SEEN. This is what I would do with a friend who I know is feeling unmoored, sad, stuck. I'd text them with any old thing. I'd never actually say I love you, how can I help though, I would try to get them to talk, meet me, go somewhere. Aziraphale does not express emotions the same way as Crowley.

But his emotions are valid nonetheless. He is worried for Crowley from around 3 minutes into their acquaintanceship. And he NEVER stops worrying.

And are we quite sure he has never lost Crowley?

How many times did Aziraphale's heart freeze in horror when he realised Hell has taken Crowley and he had no idea if he'll ever come back and what is happening to him?

Why else would he be so worried about working on the Arrangement? Was he worried just for himself? Do we really think that?

Crowley thinks he lost Aziraphale, yes, we saw that, but do they ever talk about what happened to the angel then? Do we?

That he got blown into atoms which I bet wasn't pleasant and when he arrives in Heaven he limps? Why is he hurt? Why is he quickly pretending he isn't? Why is he always hiding how he feels? Also, he immediately deserts, wants no part in the Holy War and quickly finds an extremely unconventional way to get back. It's not a grand gesture, there's no pomp around it, he thinks this and then does it. No hesitation.

Is this coming from an angel who just can't leave Heaven behind and longs to be a part of it? Who loves to follow rules? And let's not forget in those moments Aziraphale thought Crowley was gone. That he very likely left for Alpha Centauri. Last he heard from him he was told he was talking to an old friend and had no time for him. Why we NEVER talk about how that might have felt for Aziraphale?

Things are not as simple as Aziraphale has been supressing his emotions and lying to himself about how he feels and he should get over it and become free. That's not how this works. His trauma and his personality are deeply intertwined and he'd never be the kind of person who is open in showing their grief or stress. He will learn to be more open, with his love especially, we see him reaching for and touching his demon in S2. Openly being with him, looking at him without guarding himself. That's HUGE. He's trying. So. Just because Aziraphale is not crying and screaming and I dunno, tearing his hair out or whatever some people would have him do, does not mean he isn't overflowing with pain, fear, uncertainty, doubts, worries, and so much anxiety that if he let it all out, half of the solar system would turn to ashes.

Aziraphale does not need to suffer in S3 to level out Crowley's suffering. They are, unfortunately, equal in their pain as they are in love. If there is one thing Crowley would never abide, it'd be this take from the fandom. * A note on grief (obviously from my personal experience) As initiated by @anthony-crowleys-left-nut in a comment

It's not that I mind to know people care and worry etc, but asking how I am can only end in me lying (fine, thank you) and both of us knowing it's not really true and feeling awkward or not lying (I feel like shit, mostly cos I can't sleep and think the world is a stupid unfair place) and both of us feeling awkward anyway. Does that make sense? I wish I could tell friends/colleagues to ask what I've been up to or something similar instead. What I've been reading (um, AO3, but I'll make something up), watching, do I want to go see some spring flowers bloom (I do).

#aziraphale #good omens #crowley #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #neil gaiman #ineffable divorce #aziraphale my beloved #good omens thoughts #aziraphale defense squad #suffering in silence #grief #tw grief #dealing with grief #loss #tw death #kaypost

557 notes · View notes

kadwrites · 9 months

Text

a perfect fit | T.S

previous part | next part

or check out the series masterlist

summary ; you and your family are planning the engagement party.

warnings ; arranged marriage trope , soft!tommy, typos maybe?

a/n ; i would love to know what you guys think of this part!

you're sitting on one of the chairs surrounding the dining table, a hand massaging your temple as the other brings the scorching hot tea to your lips, your eyes look at the table, papers and pens scattered everywhere. celest, your sisters in law, your friends and your mom all seem to be talking at the same time and they are so loud

"miriam ? miriam green? no i'm not inviting her!"

"mum ya can't not invite 'er.... she's dad's cousin" celest sighs , rose is asleep with her head on celest's shoulder

"as far as i know he's the best baker in birmingham and we certainly can afford it. so why shouldn't we get a cake?" fiona argues with madeline, tapping the pen against the notebook , the name of the baker and price of the cake written in her messy handwriting

"because we want to save that for the wedding." madeline argues back "we don't really need a cake for the engagement party."

you just sit there , watching them all argue as anna and renee go over the receipts of the dresses they planned to make for the party

"with the baby coming any day now.... i can't risk it. i think i'll have two dresses just in case, that way i'll have something to fit me anyways" renee, motions to her bump and anna nods

you'll let them have their fun and you'll just go over everything once everyone is asleep, you decide. you just stare at them, it's almost like a trainwreck really, you can't look away. while the women of your family are planning the engagement party of the fucking century, your nieces and nephew are all napping on the sofas. you envy that, you miss napping. you actually miss sleeping properly after all this happened

"what do ya think?"

"hmm?" you look up at celest as she stands next to you, showing you the guest lists, at least the ones your family is deciding to invite "i'll take a look later" you look away again, sipping your tea

"tommy said he'll be here right?" celest asks again, a hand on rose's head

you chuckle, you can't believe this is actually happening "yeah, he's supposed to drop by any minute now"

"is he bringing the ring too?"

"mhm." you answer, still observing your family. your engagement ring was done and you needed to see if it fits well.

"are ya okay?" celest crouches down, with rose still in her arms

you turn, smiling softly "yeah , why wouldn't i be?"

"ya seem.... out of it."

"just tired is all, planning this fucking thing is just tiresome" you smile again, squeezing her shoulder gently "i'm fine"

celest stands up, she puts a comforting hand on your head, smoothing down your hair before walking away , she'll probably go put rose down in the crib, the crib that your mother insisted on having in her room

abraham walks in, leaning down to kiss anna on the cheek. her smile is shy and flustered , renee wiggles her brows at anna. then he walks to you, he has his hands in the pockets of his trousers

"your fiancé is here." he nods at you

speak of the devil. you put your cup down "let 'im in." you motion for him to go

and as soon as the women heard his name, they scattered away wanting to give you some privacy , anna helped renee get up from the chair and up the stairs, your mom went up too. and celest stayed in your parents room with rose. madeline and fiona probably went outside.

he's been dropping by often in the past two weeks, deciding on the engagement party.

"hello" he greets you as he walks in, you're still on the chair , your fingers massaging your temple

"hello, thomas."

"is everything alright?" his eyes wandered to the scattered papers on the dining table

"yeah everything is fine" you sighed , your hands drop down to the table, then you pick up your cup again "care for a cup of tea?"

"sure"

you grab the teapot and grab one of the cups around it, pouring his tea in. you place it back on the table

he sat down, sipping his tea as he looked at you , you grab the guest list that celest brought, looking over the names

"your family seems.... excited"

"thats an understatement" you chuckle, grabbing a pen to scratch out any names you didn't want there " 'aven't seen them so excited since the war ended." you mumbled.

"were ya in any relationship before this 'appened ?"

he asked the question so casually , you slowly look away from the paper to look at him "what?"

"were ya in a relationship before we got engaged?"

"why do ya wanna know?" you raise a brow

"just curious" he sipped his tea, his eyes still on you

"no"

"why not?"

you put the paper and the pen down, looking at him again "what kind of question is that?"

"a normal one."

you blink a couple of times, "i 'ave high standards when it comes to dating" you lick your lips before speaking again "i mean had , i guess."

"fair enough."

"what about you?"

"me ?"

"were ya seeing anyone?"

"if i was i wouldn't be getting an arranged marriage now ,would i?"

you shrug, grabbing the paper again "some married men still date"

"im not one of them"

you snort a laugh, still looking at the paper and it was his turn to raise a brow

"what's so funny?"

"nothing."

"ya think i'd do that?"

"yes" you answer rather bluntly as you pick up one of the other papers "gangsters aren't exactly known to be the most loyal of husbands, and ya do 'ave a reputation"

"i do?" a small smile is on his lips "what kind of reputation?"

"a bad one" you mumble "people say that you're a whore."

he chuckled, putting his cup down "doesn't mean i'm a cheater now does it?"

your lips curl up "i guess not."

for a moment a comfortable silence ensues before he stands up, you don't look up, too engrossed in the papers to do so. but your eyes widen when you see him lower to the ground, you slowly turn your head to see him, down on one knee with a velvet black box in his hands, the diamond engagement ring catches the light and it shines . it's probably the biggest diamond you'd ever seen in real life, it's gorgeous

you open your mouth a couple of times but no words come out, your eyes darting between his "tommy what are ya doing?" you finally speak

"what do you think im doing?"

"i don't know."

"would you marry me?" his voice softens, the small smile still on his lips, his blue eyes bore into yours.

"i...." you stutter, letting the paper go , you lick your lips. a laugh escapes you, your heart feels like its going to jump out of its place. your hands shake and you just can't look at anything but his eyes "yes"

he takes out the ring out of its box, grabbing your hand so gently like you're made out of delicate porcelain, sliding the ring on your finger. it's a perfect fit, it's the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen. he brings your hand to his lips, they brush against the softness of your hand , you feel as if that ignited your whole body on fire. his eyes are still on yours.

taglist : @tardisloverz , @optimisticsandwichgladiator , @theshelbyslimited , @illuminwtesz , @goldensunflowe-r , @gruffle1 , @warrior-of-justice , @mgdixon , @babayaga67 , @goblinjnr

#kadwrites #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby fanfiction #thomas shelby fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

loveyourownsmiilee · 14 days

Text

I find it very interesting that Tim Minear told an interviewer that they are “basically laying down the train tracks on 911 while the train is still moving”. And then he further added that they’re still “in the middle of writing episodes 8-10” which are literally set to air next month. So what this tells me is that they are definitely waiting to gauge general audience reactions for the storylines they have leading up to the small hiatus. Because the hiatus gives them plenty of time to rewrite anything that might not be accepted positively or double down and perfect their initial ideas.

Now what I find a little suspicious is that Tim is a calculated person. We know that he called Oliver ahead of his current storyline and talked to him about what his plans were for Buck, which was his sexuality storyline. Now isn’t it strange how another person on the show, Ryan Guzman, seems so happy and keeps assuring in all his interviews that the writers take into consideration feedback from fans and are going to give us what we want? All the interviews he’s done with Oliver, just give off vibes that they both know something we don’t know. So why would Ryan be so confident in what the writers are writing when according to Tim, they still don’t have anything concrete written for the last three episodes of the season? Unless…unless Tim has also called up Ryan and expressed what his plans are for his character’s storyline for the season. Maybe it was even a joint call of some sort to let both Ryan and Oliver know that he perhaps has plans to get the ball rolling for bringing Buddie together romantically. And what way to do that is by dipping his toe in first with Buck’s storyline with Tommy to see how the general audience reacts to the possibility of Buck dating a man.

Meanwhile Tim has also shown how strong Buck and Eddie are as a family unit with Christopher in episode 7.01. So whatever happens in 7.05 before the hiatus, it’s likely to arise some questions for viewers. And while sifting through the comments and feedback, it’ll help Tim make up his mind on how to finish off this season. Which means it can very possibly end with a big confirmation that Buddie is happening come season 8.

I just think with Tim sharing so many Buddie stills to his personal Facebook page before the season even aired, choosing that specific Buckley Diaz family moment in 7.01, and confirming that they don’t have plans for Buddie “right now” doesn’t confirm it’s not happening. On the contrary, I think he’s literally waiting and watching how the public reacts before coming up with a concrete plan on when it is time to make it happen. Everything he’s done and said just seems so deliberate in my honest opinion.

And both Ryan and Oliver’s behavior also seem very deliberate and I can go on and on about that as well but I’ll just say they’re behaving very differently this season overall than any other season. I mean just look at how often Oliver shares Ryan on his stories. And how quickly Ryan shares 911 content and pictures taken by Oliver to his stories. This has never been the case between these two in all 6 years they’ve worked together. All that aside, choosing both of them to interview together, discuss their storylines and promote together was a definite choice made by whoever is in charge. So why those two specifically when it could’ve been any other 911 cast member? Peter and Angela had a three episode arc and we didn’t get a single joint interview together. We know JLH and Kenny have a big wedding storyline coming up and have yet to get a single joint interview with them. Aisha and Tracie have a storyline coming up about them adding to their family and we don’t have any interviews with them. But we also don’t have any interviews with just like Kenny and Aisha since they also play best friends on the show. Like all these decisions that were made ahead of this season are very suspicious to me especially when you consider literally everything else that’s been said by Tim and both Ryan and Oliver. So I guess take what you will with all this information but I’m just very suspicious about everything that’s going on.

#buddie #Tim Minear #oliver stark #ryan guzman #911 on abc #911 speculation #again this is all MY OPINION #I find it super interesting that Tim said all that and like how could it not be about buddie ?#I mean yessss it can be about anything else im sure of it #it’s not the Buddie show #but like this makes sense for it to be a bit about them

319 notes · View notes

mountainsandmayhem · 3 months

Text

Stay Still, Little Dove

Joel Miller x Female!Reader

18+

Series Masterlist

Summary: Joel takes matters into his own hands to deal with your newly insatiable sex drive with a little help from a u shaped friend. TW: softdom!Joel, female orgasms (like a lot of them), oral (fem!rec), this is all about her A/N: THANK YOU for all the comments, likes and reblogs on my last story! I fully believe only 1 or 2 people will read these and I'm just floored by the response so far. I wish I could write without a plot, but I added some backstory about these two. Word Count: 4.3k

Ellie has always been a tornado in your life. Her biological mom was your childhood best friend. She had her demons, so you can’t say you were surprised when during her weekend trip to visit you with her new baby she disappeared, leaving you with little Ellie.

Overnight, you went from a 22-year-old young woman starting your third year of your degree to a 22-year-old adoptive single mom pushing through your third year of college.

Your parents were helpful, driving four hours from the small town you grew up in every weekend so you could work or do homework. They offered to take Ellie for a while or help you find people to adopt her, but that little tornado of a girl was your priority and you weren’t going to abandon her like her mother.

She broke her arm at 2 on her big wheel, and at 3 she needed 10 stitches across her eyebrow from when she tried to leap from the kitchen table to the granite island. Safe to say the granite won as she still bears that scar today. At 4, she bolted up the stairs to the high dive and jumped off without an ounce of fear. Thank god she was already a strong swimmer.

She seemed to crave chaos, so when she befriended the girl with wildly curly hair on her first day of school you just shook your head, predictable little tornado.

Thankfully Sarah Miller was a sweet and kind-hearted girl, maybe even a little shy. It also helped that Sarah’s young dad, who didn’t wear a wedding ring, resembled a Greek god. Tall and broad with tanned skin, he owned some sort of contracting business based on the truck he’d do school pick up and drop off in. When the girls introduced you two, he flashed you a small smile, revealing that goddamn dimple.

You’re both pretty sure the girls played a hand in the two of you eventually getting together, granted they both conveniently don’t remember playing tiny matchmakers. They’d ask for sleepovers and playdates almost daily, or sign you both up to the same shift at school events.

“Mommy, I swear on the moon that the teacher picked!” Ellie said when you had the coat check station at the Valentine's Day dance. “Buuuut you might want to put on lipstick.”

It’s been a little over 14 years since then and he still sets your blood on fire with that dimple.

Both of you approached this new empty nest phase apprehensively, but it turns out that having the house to yourself (with no risk of one of the girls walking in) opened a whole new set of rather kinky doors. Not that you were necessarily vanilla before, but while they lived there you didn’t have ropes and paddles hanging on your bedroom wall, or the hooks on your four-poster bed.

You also never would have been how you are now, bathroom door wide open in only the trousers you planned to wear to work.

“Not that I’m complainin’ sweetheart. But why are you topless?” Joel asks on his way to the kitchen.

“It’s too damn hot in here.” You grumble, getting out your skincare and makeup.

Joel shook his head to himself as he walked to the kitchen. He knew better than to bring up that it wasn’t the temperature, it was you and your recent perimenopause diagnosis. He hated to see you suffering, but your newly insatiable libido gave him an idea.

As you get ready, Joel leans against the bathroom door frame drinking coffee, observing you through the mirror.

You see him most days in his typical work attire - dark jeans, a t-shirt with his company logo, and a flannel or denim button-up. But it will never get old to you. You almost find him sexier in this than in a suit. Especially when he has the cuffs rolled like he does today.

“Little Dove?” His voice is deep and scratchy.

A slight blush paints your cheeks, knowing that it’s going to be one of those days.

“Yes, sir?”

He slowly walks towards you as you lean into the mirror to blink on some mascara. He stops just a hair away from you, not touching you but close. Close enough for you to feel the heat coming off of him. He waits until you’ve put the mascara wand away, and uses his free hand to trace a line slowly down your spine.

A shiver runs through you, and you let out a small moan. Partly from the feeling of him, but mostly at the reprieve from the hot flash you’re experiencing.

“How many orgasms do you think I could give you before you beg me to stop?” He kisses the top of your left shoulder, watching your eyes widen slightly in the mirror.

Goosebumps spread across your body. If he wants to play, you’ll make it difficult for him. “Well, after the little kidnapping the other night you gave in after three.”

“This is about you giving up and not me giving in,” His free hand continues a light trail along your bare back.

“And didn’t you say you felt like you had done an intense Pilates workout the next day?” He adds teasingly.

You were hoping he’d forgotten about how you groaned as you lowered yourself into the bathtub to soak your sore muscles. Even though your hormones seemed to think you were a teenager again, your body took a little longer to recover. Joel cared for you in a way that only he could; making dinner, wrapping you in your beloved heated blanket, and gently massaging your hips and legs.

You don’t want to give up this easily so you scoff and say, “Please, old man. You’d get tired before I’d quit.”

The next two things happen so quickly that it’s over before the excited squeal leaves your lips. He spins you to face him and lifts you onto the countertop, caging you between his arms, his hands gripping the vanity on either side of you.

“Now now, Little Dove. I’d be careful who you call old.” His recently playful tone is back to a deep gravel-like command that settles right between your thighs.

“You will refer to me as sir in these moments and nothing else. Do you understand?”

You nod eagerly sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, fuck you love him like this.

He kisses down your neck towards your right breast. Pausing he adds, “Words, Little Dove,” before gently dragging your right nipple through his teeth.

You let out a desperate moan arching your back into the pain, “Yes, sir.”

Joel quickly steps back, taking his coffee cup with him. “Be a good girl today.”

+++++

You spend your workday trying not to think about Joel. You immerse yourself in your to-do list and your team gets a few projects done early and sent off for approval. You’ve almost forgotten about the morning events when you hear your phone buzz.

Joel: When I get home I want you in that little black lacy thing, Little Dove. I’m bringing home dinner.

You reply with a funny ‘yes, sir’ gif.

Joel: Oh, my sweet Little Dove. I’m almost starting to think you like it when I punish you.

You: Do your worst, I won’t tap out.

Joel: Tell me what you’re going to be doing when I get home.

You find a photo of you wearing the aforementioned ‘little black lacy thing’ and attach it to your message that says, “Wearing this, sir.”

Joel: Be kneeling beside the couch when I get home.

You: Yes, sir.

++++

The rest of your day goes by tortuously slowly, yet the drive home seemed suspiciously fast. You laugh to yourself picturing a speeding ticket in the mail and Joel’s reaction when you tell him he has to pay it since it’s his fault. Maybe you’ll ask him when he’s in a sir mood.

You hop in the shower, shave and touch up your makeup before clipping and clasping yourself into the outfit Joel loves so much. As you step back to admire yourself in the full-length mirror you realize certain squishy parts of your body don’t look great in this.

Focus on the positive, you remind yourself.

The deep v-halter of the one-piece garment accentuates your breasts, you spin to take in the low cut back and high cut cheeky bottom that highlights the globes of your ass.

The familiar sounds of Joel’s truck pulling up the driveway sends a rush of nervous and excited butterflies through your stomach. You hurry to the sitting room, grab a throw pillow from the couch and kneel.

Your eyes follow as Joel heads to the kitchen, holding a bag from your favourite sushi restaurant. He places it on the island before looking up at you with dark eyes

“Look at the ground and put your hands on your lap.” He commands.

You can’t stop your eyes from rolling as you look down and do as he says.

“Little Dove, don’t roll your eyes at me.” His voice deepens with every word, instantly setting your core on fire.

He’s silent for a moment and you can feel his eyes on you. “From now on when I say to kneel, this is how you’ll be. Understand?”

You squeeze your thighs a little tighter, breathing starting to shallow at the sound of his voice as he slips deeper into sir mode.

You reply with a breathy, “Yes sir. Sorry.”

Joel walks over and pets your head. “You look stunning like this.” He whispers, before turning and leaving you alone.

His words feel like warm honey being drizzled down your spine. No one makes you feel as desired as Joel and immediately your earlier body insecurities vanish. You can hear him moving things around the bedroom before he walks back to the kitchen but you don’t dare look up. You’re a good girl, Joel doesn’t like brats, and right now all that matters is pleasing him.

Joel sets up dinner, arranges the sushi on plates, opens the wine and lights a candle before sitting at the table, legs spread, facing you.

“Crawl to me, Little Dove.” His deep voice washes over you. Almost as if it puts you in a trance. You know your knees are going to regret this in the morning, but you’re so turned on that you don’t hesitate to crawl across the area rug and then onto the hardwood flooring Joel installed himself.

Stopping between his bare legs, his strong hand cradles your chin and tilts it up, he’s wearing a plain white t-shirt and tight black boxers. But it’s the sleek black remote control vibrator in his other hand that steals your attention.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” He says with a soft moan, gently stroking your cheek. “Go put this in, and then come back and have dinner with me.”

He helps you to your feet and hands you the vibrator. He turns you towards the half bath off the kitchen and pats your bum gently while you walk away.

Joel has laid out everything you might need on the counter. After cleaning the toy, you push the thin fabric of your lingerie aside and slide it inside yourself. You can already feel pressure on that little spongy part inside you that Joel loves to tease. As you wash your hands you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

I can do this, you say to yourself.

As soon as you step out of the bathroom and make eye contact with Joel the toy comes to life. Your false confidence from a few seconds ago buckles along with your knees as you brace yourself on the door frame and let out a breathy gasp.

“I want you to keep count and thank me for each one, Little Dove. Understand?”

“Y-yes, sir,” you moan, crossing your legs and squeezing your thighs, all while maintaining eye contact.

The vibration stops, you take a few deep breaths before standing up tall and walking over to the table. Always the gentleman, he pulls out your chair and kisses the top of your head before taking his seat.

“Eat while we go over some ground rules, Little Dove.”

You don’t have to be told twice, you love sushi and you’re probably going to need your strength for the evening.

“You are going to need a safe word tonight.” Your mouth goes dry and you become accurately aware of the small remote control in his possession.

“We are going to use a colour coding system, much like traffic lights. If I ask you for a colour tonight you have three options. Green means you want to keep going,” he emphasizes the word you.

“Yellow means you need a break and will let me know when you’re ready again. Say red and we stop.” Joel pauses and looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, sir,” you reply in between bites.

He picks up his wine and takes a sip before continuing softly, reaching across to grab your hand. “But baby, you can say yellow or red at any time. If you need a break or reassurance, say yellow. And if it’s too intense and you need me to stop, say red. We’ve done our research on this. But you need to know that if you say stop, or that you need a break, or even if you’re crying and saying I’m hurting you, I will not stop. Colours only. Understand?”

You nod while taking a big mouthful of wine, the nervous excitement that you’ve been feeling all day courses through your body. As your wine glass is put back on the table the vibrating starts again, stronger this time.

“You should know by now that you need to use your fucking words, Little Dove.” He says darkly.

“Yes,” you stammer. “Yes. I under….I understand, sir.”

The vibrating stops and you let out a breathy, Oh god.

You both eat your dinner and finish the wine, this man could give you whiplash with how quickly he can go from sir to family man. He asks about your day and tells you about the new apprentice he’s hired. When you both finish eating he takes the dishes to the sink. He turns to face you, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed. The sleeves of his t-shirt stretch over the ropes of muscles lining his biceps.

“Little Dove, do I have your consent to make you come until you use a safe word?”

Again, the whiplash.

Your mouth goes dry as you reply with his preferred ‘yes, sir.’

The toy comes to life again, on a higher setting than the last 2 times. You lean forward so your ass is slightly off the chair to ease some of the intensity. You’re not a stranger to a vibrator, but never one that’s pushed this firmly against your g spot and your clit. The seat of your chair is clamped between your fingers as you cry out in pleasure.

“Don’t make me tie you to that fucking chair. Sit down, Little Dove.”

You do as he says, letting out a desperate moan as the hard seat presses the two ends of the u shaped toy deeper and harder against your g spot.

“Oh fuck - fuck - m’gonna…” you close your eyes and your head falls back as the white heat in your center starts to reach its breaking point.

Joel strides over to you and grabs your chin, twisting you slightly to face him. “Look at me, I want to see it when you come.”

“J-Joel,” his hand doesn’t leave your chin and he watches you with such admiration as you start to come undone.

“That’s it, Little Dove,” he whispers as he places a few kisses along your jaw towards your ear adding, “Let go for me.”

Your orgasm hits you hard, spreading from the base of your spine and out to every inch of your body. Wave after wave flows through you, intensified by the look of admiration spreading across Joel's face.

“There you go - good girl.”

Your fingers start to ache as you fight to stay seated in the chair, his wishes are your command and you’ll do anything to hear him praise you again. You squirm against the seat as overstimulation starts to take over.

“Please, sir,” you beg, “fuck! I need…I need to move.”

“So beautiful when you beg, Little Dove….count it for me” He says.

“One sir, thank you.” It comes out weak and breathy, a voice you didn’t expect after only one orgasm.

“Give me a colour, baby.” His voice is almost soothing as he torments you with the vibrator.

Current state aside, you’re not giving up or giving in after one orgasm, even if it is still coursing through you minutes later.

“Green!” You scream, shifting yourself off the chair slightly as he switches to a new vibration setting. Its intensity varies and shifts, and the anticipation of never knowing what might hit you next is a new level of wonderful torture.

Joel slides your chair out and kneels in front of you, pushing your hips back down to the chair.

“I will tie you down if you don’t stay still, Little Dove,” he growls before slamming his lips into yours.

A second orgasm tears through your body, your hands move to his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as you try not to move. It’s no use, the vibrations are too intense and you buck your hips up while your head falls back breaking the kiss.

The kitchen fills with your cries of ecstasy. Somehow you manage to count and thank him for the second one before he turns off the toy and pulls you to your feet. You grip his strong forearms to steady yourself, your pussy still fluttering against the weight of the vibrator.

“You have five seconds before I turn this on high, Little Dove. Unless you can make it to the bedroom before that.”

Your legs feel like jelly beneath you, but your competitive side kicks in and you sprint down the hallway as he loudly and authoritatively counts to five. You almost make it through the bedroom when you feel the most intense vibration hit your swollen g spot. You stumble forward, folding your upper body onto the bed. Your brain scrambles to catch up to your body as it processes that you’re not in pain but instead in a state of agonizing pleasure.

Joel walks up behind you, pressing himself against your ass. “You’re doing such a good job for me,” he praises before landing a hard slap on your right ass cheek.

Your body is suspended in that moment right before you come. You almost feel like you’re floating and the pleasure is so intense that you can’t even make a noise as you clench the bedsheet in your fists to try to ground yourself.

He uses his body to pin you down, folding over you and whispering “Give me a colour,” in your ear.

“Green” comes out in a shaky whisper.

“That’s my girl.” He says proudly, biting your shoulder blade.

Again it’s his words that do it, my girl, and you finally tip over the edge and tremble underneath him. Joel kisses and sucks the skin of your upper back, every inch of your body feels encompassed by him and crying out for relief, but you’re not giving in.

“Ah - fuuuuck…” you feel like this orgasm has been going on for hours.

“I wish you could see how good you look right now.”

“Stop. P-please. Stop,” you beg in between gasps of air.

As you come down from your high the vibrating slows to a small tickle, not enough to make you come again but enough to remind you that it’s there.

Can someone die from an orgasm?

“Take off your clothes,” Joel growls in your ear, slapping your right ass cheek as he peels himself off of you. “I’m not stopping until you use the safe word, Little Dove.”

He pulls his shirt off and watches as you undo the clasps and clips of your lingerie and slide it off with shaky hands.

As you lay on the bed you say, “I’m not a fucking quitter, sir.”

Joel smirks, laughing through his nose a little as he wraps a silk cuff around each ankle, spreading your legs apart for him. “How many are we at so far?”

As he cuffs your wrists you reply. “Three. Thank you, sir.”

He kisses your forehead as he slowly removes the vibrator. “Fuck me,” he says, “look at this mess, such a good girl for me.”

You close your eyes and let the praise wash over you like a warm bath. Joel shifts his body between your legs and places two little kisses on your swollen clit making you whimper and suck your bottom lip between your teeth.

He uses two fingers to lightly circle your clit making you come instantly with a whimpering ‘four, thank you, sir,’ at the end.

Joel doesn’t stop, switching to use his tongue while keeping the same pace and pressure as you come again.

“Ah - five, thank you, sir!”

….and again….”fuck, six. Thank you, sir.”

...and again….”s-seven - oh god - thank y-you, sir.”

Your skin is covered in a thin sheen of sweat as a cool liquid drizzles down your pussy. You gasp at the new sensation, eyes shooting to his face.

“Stay still, Little Dove.”

As he runs his fingers up and down your pussy, the lube turns warm and tingly, heightening his touches. Joel draws circles on your clit with his thumb, pursing his lips and blowing cool air. The warmth turns icy cold, and when he stops blowing, heat rushes to your pussy, pulling another orgasm from you.

Yes, I’m certain someone can die from an orgasm.

“Count, Little Dove.”

A whine escapes your lips as you try to tug your legs together. His thumb has slowed down but it’s all becoming too much. “Eight. I can’t anymore, sir.”

He blows cool air again and the heat rushing has you keening all over again.

“Please, Joel. I can’t. Please.” Tears spring from your eyes.

“You’re ok. You can do this, baby.” Cool air hits your pussy again and you come apart. “Good girl. So gorgeous. Count it for me, Little Dove.”

“Nine. N-nine,” your eyes slam shut as he pulls away from you. “T-thank you, sir.”

Before you’ve even finished thanking him, he slides his middle finger inside you, lightly massaging your g spot that’s still so sensitive from the vibrator. He pushes one of his strong hands down on your mound as he torturously works you toward your tenth orgasm.

“No…please. Sir, I,” you gasp as you try to pull free.

“I can’t,” the pleasure is almost painful at this point as the pressure from your arousal builds. He knows your close, he’s been dying to make you squirt again after the other night.

“Color,” Joel says tenderly, slipping a second finger inside you and hooking the forward.

You swallow hard against your sore and scratchy throat. You whine ‘green’, as you arch your back to try to ease the intense mixture of pain, pleasure and pressure that you’re experiencing.

“Stay still, Little Dove,” Joel pushes harder on your lower belly. “Give me number ten. Show me, baby. Show me how good this feels.”

You swear that everything stops, including your heart and time, as you fall apart under his touch and gush all over his hand. The walls of your pussy are clenching around Joel’s fingers and you can feel a puddle forming underneath you. You think you hear Joel praising you, but the sound is muffled by your gasps and moans. If you lived in an apartment your neighbours might think you were being tortured based on the loud cries coming out of you. Joel is sure that he’ll be making you a hot toddy to ease your throat later, but right now he’s hyper-focused on getting you through this orgasm.

As you start to come down his hand slows, “relax, baby.”

“Red. S-stop. Fuck Joel, red.”

Joel gently removes his fingers, shifting quickly to undo your restraints. You’re shivering and exhausted as he pulls you into his arms and away from the soaked sheets.

Everything Joel Miller does is done with the utmost care and attention, including aftercare. Your heated blanket is already warmed up, tucked near the headboard. He pulls it over you and places a featherlight kiss on your sweaty forehead.

“I got you, darlin’. Shhh. I got you.” He holds you tighter as you melt into him.

After a few moments of silence, you tilt your face up to look at him. “Are you okay?” He asks gently.

You bite your bottom lip to stop a smile. “Ya, that was - amazing.”

You laugh a little and tuck back into his chest. “Are you sure? I’m so proud of you for using a safe word, but I need to ensure I didn’t hurt you.”

You shake your head and fight to stay awake. “No…you didn’t” you mumble sleepily, stifling a yawn. “I’m great - just one minute…then I’ll do something for you.”

Joel laughs softly and tilts your face up to his. He presses his lips to yours gently. “That was for me, Little Dove. Sleep for a little bit, I’ll wake you up for electrolytes and food.”

The warmth of your blanket takes over, you whisper an ‘I love you’ just as you drift off, thanking whoever brought this beautiful man into your life.

++++++++++

Taglist: @corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @mermaidgirl30 @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut

#joel miller #pedrohub #joel miller tlou #joel the last of us #joel x reader #joel tlou #fanfic #fanfiction #joel miller smut #daddy joel #joel miller x reader #tlou fanfiction #dom!joel miller #soft!joel miller

511 notes · View notes

runningfrom2am · 3 months

Text

the wedding // LTPF

summary: the wedding of the year, i can see it now.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.7k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. she's a bridezilla for REAL and i wish i included more of that energy, protective!coryo, idk people are drinking alcohol? (its a wedding, so duh), also TW for Livia and r's dad just existing p much.

based on this ask and this ask!

series masterlist // playlist

Everything was perfect. Absolutely everything you had dreamt of your whole life when it came to your wedding. Coryo had told you money was no object, and therefore, you spared no expense. You had a strong theory that your father was being sent every last bill, since you knew neither of you had anything more than what the Plinth's were providing for school, but that was the farthest thing from your problem. It was the least your father could do.

The hardest part of the whole thing, even before deciding who would give you away without your father, was deciding on your maid of honour. You didn't have many good friends, or friends at all, outside of your new husband. At one point, you wondered if had things gone differently, would you have chosen Lucy Gray?

Clemensia Dovecote was a fine enough choice. "Let me just say," Her speech began, hitting the side of her overfilled wine glass with a fork. "I have called this wedding for years, and no one believed me." She shot a smile over to you at the head table. "For anyone who doesn't know me, I'm Clemensia. Y/N's Maid of Honour." She had just thrived on the title since you offered it to her which, while annoying, was good because she took her position very seriously. She was the perfect choice- she looked nice, presentable in a dress you had picked out, but the colour clashed with the yellow in the whites of her eyes and the few scales that were yet to fall off after the snake bite. She looked fine, but she also made you look better. "But like I said, I knew this would happen."

She was drunk, repeating things in a way that made you cringe internally but nevertheless, you had to watch. The lights spread across the large backyard of the Plinth's mansion lit up the night beautifully, bouncing off every white and red rose you had spread about. You were very grateful to them for allowing you to host the reception there. They had done a lot for you in the last year since you returned from Twelve.

Mrs. Plinth was very involved with planning the wedding- she loved the winter wedding and leaning into it as a theme. It worked out nicely because it gave her something to think about other than the death of her only child, and she was a tremendous help and support to you. You were truly grateful, but this day was hard on them without Sejanus there. She had mentioned on more than one occasion that Sejanus would have been the best man, and you only slightly doubted that. You wouldn't want it to be anyone else- but Coryo would have had different thoughts, you're sure.

"How much longer will this go on for?" Your now husband whispers in your ear, fake smile on his face as he also has to listen to Clem's rambling.

"I really don't know." You reply with the same fake smile, knowing that eyes were on you just as much as her.

"Some choice for a maid of honour." He chuckles.

You roll your eyes, a playful smile on your lips. "Oh, well, I would have gone with Arachne Crane but, you know..."

"Fair enough." He mumbles, sitting back in his seat. "Are you really the only woman in the Capitol who isn't insufferably annoying? You should have been your own maid of honour."

"Well it was her or Tigris, and Tigris is prettier than me so she wasn't really an option." You hum, grabbing his hand under the table as you keep your eyes focussed on Clemensia, not paying attention to a word she says.

Coryo laughs. "Tigris is not prettier than you."

"She's your cousin, your opinion is invalid." You shrug it off.

"Doesn't change the fact that I'm right." He argues, squeezing your hand.

You don't reply, and you let his hand go to clap once Clem is finally finished. You had already eaten, so now it was supposed to be the "fun part", as Clemensia so aptly put it in her speech. You found it rude, yes, but it wasn't a big deal and after tonight you wouldn't have to see her again for a while.

It was brisk out, being a winter wedding you should have expected that, but you still had another dress to change into so you excuse yourself from the table, kissing your husband goodbye as he gets up as well.

You hadn't allowed him to see any of your dresses, and this would be your third one today alone. He loved every one, and did not expect to be disappointed by the next. Or the one after that.

"Hey, congrats, Coriolanus." He tears his gaze away from your retreating figure to whoever was talking to him.

"Thank you, Hilarius." He nods, smiling politely at him and reaching out to shake his hand.

"I saw this one coming miles away." His classmate laughs. "You remember that though, right?"

"When you said that if I wasn't going to go after her you would?" Coryo asks, eyebrow raised. "I do remember that. It makes me wonder who let you in..." It's meant as a joke as he makes a point of looking past him toward the security they have at the entrance.

He furrows his brow when his eyes catch on your father standing there, arguing with one of the security guards, his wife by his side.

"If you would excuse me..." He says, walking toward them before Hilarius could even respond.

"Ugh, I know. Why did you even invite her, Y/N/N?" Clemensia complains as Tigris helps you step out of your gown.

"Who?" You ask, unsure what she was even talking about.

"Livia." She states, yet another glass of red wine in her hand.

"Oh, I kind of had to. Connections and all that." You shrug. You weren't Livia's biggest fan, she had a "greater than thou" attitude that drove you up the wall, but who in this city didn't?

"Ah, yes. Of course." She hums. "She had a lot of audacity to show up in that dress though..."

Your head whips around to look at her. "What dress?"

"You haven't seen her?" She gasps. "I thought you saw her! It's this white-based floral, really questionable for someone else's wedding. Looks like a tablecloth." She accentuates the statement with a sip from her glass.

Your jaw ticks and you look toward the door, already seeing red.

"Hey, Y/N, it's okay." Tigris rests her hands on your shoulders, prompting you to look at her. "We'll tell security, they can escort her out if that's what you want."

You take a breath, forcing a smile on your face. "Let's not bother them. I'll just go chat with her." You smile, stepping out of the dress in bare feet, quickly grabbing Clemensia's overfilled wine glass from her hand on your way out the door.

"Y/N, Wait! Don't!" Tigris calls after you, well aware of your notorious temper by now, but you don't listen.

You're in your white slip when you storm back out to the reception area through the back patio, immediately and quickly scanning the crowd for the guest in question. You know you have seconds before Tigris likely tries to stop you, but you know Clemensia won't. Then, you see her.

You're seething already. That's practically a wedding dress on its own. You would kill her.

You stomp across the ground, tunnel vision locked on her as she raises her glass to her lips, laughing, and talking with other guests, completely careless to what she had done wrong. Well, she would learn today.

"Livia Cardew!" You grin, walking up to her. "I don't recall sending you an invitation, but here you are!"

Immediately, she's taking in your appearance, giggling at your lack of appropriate attire and shoes. "Y/N! Congratulations." She says, eyes finally locking with yours again.

"May I have a word?" You ask, already grabbing her arm and pulling her away.

"Is there a problem here?" Coriolanus asks, addressing only his security as your father stands there, red-faced with anger.

"Yeah, they've got no invite." He nods, showing Coryo the list in his hands which he quickly pretends to look over.

"Oh! Sorry, yes. There you are..." He says, pointing down at the bottom and your father visibly relaxes. "Under the title there that says 'not welcome under any circumstances'... Well then." He looks at your father now for the first time, tilting his head at him.

"No, this is my daughter's wedding and we will be let in!" He demands, raising his voice.

Coryo clicks his tongue, slightly shaking his head. "No, sir, I thought we were clear on this."

"No, you said the wedding. This, if I'm not mistaken, is the reception. I made my sacrifice. Now, I'm here."

"And only about two hours late." Coryo hums uninterestedly, looking down at his watch. "Father of the year."

Your father's fuming, and it's hard for Coryo to not laugh in his face. "I paid for everything here! You can't deny us entry!"

"I can." Coryo says. "Well, actually, my apologies. Mrs. Y/L/N, you are welcome to come in, if you'd like." He smiles at her, polite demeanour flicked back on like a light switch.

Your father quickly pulls her back behind him. "It's both of us or neither of us. Go ask our daughter." He states, gripping tightly on her arm.

"Oh, no. I won't be ruining our wedding." Coryo shakes his head, firm in his decision. "I'll tell Y/N you send your love, Ma'am. Have a good night."

"No! You will let us in right now or-" Your father's tantrum is interrupted by a commotion across the yard, drawing Coryo's attention. People gasp in shock, and then he sees you, about to absolutely lay into Livia Cardew, who now has red wine all over her face and the front of her dress.

"I must be going, now." Coryo tells them, turning back to the security guard and adjusting the cuffs of his shirt to be able to roll up his sleeves. "If you don't mind, call for peacekeepers to escort him from the property. Thank you."

He doesn't have time to hear your father's angry disagreement as he walks away.

"So," You drop her arm, turning to face her. "I'm not sure if you are aware, but this isn't your wedding." You spit, gesturing to her dress. "And listen, I get it! You're jealous. That's fine, but it's extremely tacky and honestly embarrassing for you to wear a white dress to a wedding that's not yours."

Livia's lips fall open in shock, looking down at her dress before she laughs. "Y/N, come on. It really isn't that serious, you realize that, right?"

You stare at her for a moment, weighing your options. You could smash the glass over her head like you wanted to, demand that she leave immediately, or, you could 'accidentally' spill the glass on her. Before you complete the thought, you're throwing the contents of Clemensia's glass at the front of her dress, smiling as it splatters up over her face and in her hair, dripping down the front of her expensive-looking gown.

"Oops."

Livia gasps, wiping the red substance from around her eyes and flicking it off. "I thought that for one day you could be normal! God, you are vile!" She's practically screaming now.

"This is entirely your fault, you do realize that, right?" You tilt your head at her, a slight laugh under your tone. "If you wanted my husband just say that."

"I- ugh!" She groans in frustration and anger, swiping her hands over the liquid on her chest and flicking it all at you, staining the perfectly white satin of your slip. You look down at it, and then back at her. You were about to go through the roof.

The amount of people watching in the immediate vicinity is the only thing keeping you from grabbing her hair and shoving her head into the dirt. You decide to scream instead.

It turns into more of a wail, pumping angry tears into fake sad ones. Coryo is there in a second. "Darling, what's happened?" He asks, horrified as he looks between the two of you, grabbing your shoulders.

"I-" You sniff, pointing to the girl in front of you. "I just came to offer her something to change into because that is out of dress code and I tripped and-" You hiccup as he's rubbing up and down your bare arms. "It was an accident, and then she... It was just an accident! Now my dress is ruined and, and-"

He turns his gaze to Livia who just looks pissed while you ramble on about having had a little too much to drink, that was all. He's sure that's not what happened, he knows his wife better than that, but this show was not for him. He looks her up and down, visibly disgusted by her choice of dress. It honestly looks better now.

"Coriolanus that's not-" She chuckles with the shock of the accusation, shaking her head as she pleads with him.

"It's time for you to go." He tells her, looking toward a member of security who's not busy with your father, quickly waving him over.

Livia looks at the approaching security man in shock. "I didn't do anything!"

"That dress and causing a scene over it is more than enough." He states, wrapping an arm around your waist and wiping your tears from your cheeks. "Let's get you some water, Darling. It's okay..."

"It's not!" You cry, gesturing to the few small drops of wine on the front of your dress. "It's ruined! She ruined everything!"

Just as she's about to be escorted out, you make eye contact with her, offering a smug smile. She scoffs, which earns her a grab on the arm and a more forceful expulsion from the reception.

"Y/N!" Tigris is rushing across the lawn toward you, careful not to stumble in her shoes and bridesmaids' dress. "What happened?" She asks, addressing her cousin now.

"She's okay, there was just an accident with a glass of wine. We're just going to take a few minutes. I'll help her change." He explains to her.

She nods, looking worriedly down at the small stains in your dress. "I should be able to get this out, alright?" She assures you, rubbing a clean spot of the fabric between her fingers to make sure.

"Okay, thank you." You sniff, leaning into your husband's side as he guides you back up to the house.

You get inside and upstairs to what has become your dressing room and secondary bedroom over the last year. As soon as he shuts the door behind you, you can't hold your laughter back anymore. You're practically doubled over with it, and immediately Coryo understands. He chuckles, shaking his head at you.

"What a show..." He grins fondly, pulling you into a hug which you happily return.

"Oh, you liked it?" You giggle, coming down from your laughing fit.

"It was wonderful." He agrees, kissing the top of your head. "For a moment I was worried about you."

"Aw, really?" You look up at him, jutting your lip out in a pout.

"Definitely." He hums, kissing you softly. "Now come on, let's get you changed, huh?"

"Please." You nod, kissing him again before pulling back to pull your next dress from the closet. "I was supposed to wear this underneath, but now I can't." You sigh, hanging the full dress on the door before pulling the wine-stained one over your head.

"Just that will do, I suppose." Coryo mumbles, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind as you toss the slip onto the ground.

"Oh, you suppose, do you?" You chuckle, reaching up to pull the new dress from its hanger.

"Mhm." He nods, planting a kiss in the crook of your neck. "Makes my job easier later."

You laugh, blush spreading over your cheeks and flushing your chest while you unzip the back. You carefully balance as you step into the opening in the fabric, pulling it up around your waist.

"Don't rush, Darling. It will probably take you a while to recover before we can return to the party." He says, watching you adjust the skirt before you plan on zipping it up.

"Good point." You agree, but make no effort to stop until Coryo places his hand over yours.

"What should we do with all this time we have to kill, hm?" He's already leaning down to kiss over the back of your neck.

"I feel like you have an idea..." You mumble, tilting your head to adjust to his presence.

"Have I told you how much I love you?" He asks as he gently pushes the fabric back down to drop in a pool around your ankles.

"You may have mentioned it..." You turn under his palms as they land on your lower back, gently pulling you closer. "And I love you too. More than you could ever imagine, Coryo."

taglist: @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @klplynn , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @gloryekaterina , @andrewgarfieldsbitch , @queenofspades6 , @pepperonipastas , @ladybug0095 , @lunamothwrites , @sbrewer21 , @mus-tbe-a-weasley , @splxtscreen , @unclecrunkle , @karmaswitch , @coconut-dreamz , @nekee-lilac02 , @ooooglymoooogly , @riddlerloveb0t , @lovedbalances , @notyourwildestdream , @snowlandson-top , @too-lit-for-fanfic , @utopiakys , @deafeningballoonnacho , @roosterschanelslut , @chmpgneprblem , @cosmoetik , , @urvampgfsworld , @carolanns-world@nan-nie , @shakespearseclipse , @iovemoonyy , @notyoursweetheart-honey , @xyzstar , @eatpizzasass, @slytherinholland , @queenofshinigamis , @elodiebeau , @soulessjourney

434 notes · View notes

rnakamura22 · 4 months

Text

When they heard that you found your way home

Random　Characters

Prefect is female! Yandere vibes! Her name is Yu!

Malleus　Dragonia

Oh, Don't mind the sky getting pitch-black and thunder striking down rapidly! What? Flying classes got canceled? You saw Jack and Epel were totally soaked? Where are you even looking? Another man? That’s unacceptable!

You’re his first friend and crush! To him, you are like the first sunshine of spring! A beautiful blue butterfly in the meadow flying above the flowers! A gem more precious than any treasure he has! And now you’re just dumping him? Nuh-uh. Ain’t gonna happen! He’s one of the most powerful magicians in the world, so it takes no more than a flip of his hand to crush any form of way back home. He could lock you up in his room, mess with your body, destroy any form of mirror, etc. Hey, this was gonna happen one way or another since he already decided for the future Queen of the valley long ago(AKA when he met you).While he locks you up in his Diasomnia room, he could happily come and discuss the wedding plans. He already decided on the crown by the way, but he made a promise to discuss the dress colors with you since taking your opinion into account is necessary. Lila would be teary eyed of Malleus’s growth. You have no choice to accept your fate since even if you escape, he will come searching for you. After all, can a mere human win against a loving dragon?

Lilia Vanrouge

This 700 year old vampire fairy has more knowledge and experience than any of the villains. He thought his love ended with Malleus’s mom. But then, you came along. A cute little innocent human who only lived about a little percentage of his life! You are like a baby! You’re too young to survive out there! What if your way back home never worked! What if some thing got messed up? No, you need to be in the world safe and sound! He will protect you! He still has feelings about the age gap though. I mean, what happens in family day at school with your future children? Well, not to worry! As for making you stay, just break a few mirrors or take out any bad memories! He needs to look out for his juniors after all! He won’t break you, but he will punish you if you disobey. Fairies are possessive. Blame your own luck for shooting the heart of the vampire fairy.

Rook Hunt

At first, he seems happy for you! A lost deer should run back to her herd as quick as possible. But you forgot he’s a hunter. And a skilled hunter like him NEVER fails.

He casts his unique magic on you as you are about to leave. A part of him wishes for your happiness, but he couldn’t help it. A large part of him couldn’t forgive you. The most valuable prey were about to outrun him. He could never accept that. His magic will find you. Wherever you go, however you try to escape, the chase continues. Until you give up your world and return with him, they would be absolutely no peace.

Epel Felmier

(Anyone else love peel’s smug VILLAN faces from the ghost bride?)

Epel acts happy but inside, he’s devastated. He wanted to visit his home village again just the two of you. He knows he’s got competition when it came to you, and it was all for nothing. Well, he ain’t admitting that, that’s for sure.

From that day on, with the help of Vill and Rook, he creates a special gift for you. An apple red as the roses. A glittering poison apple just like the Beautiful Queen of his dorm created. To trap you, his one and only Snow White. He still wants to have fun with you and the first years. He wants to graduate with you. You gave him courage, and made him happy. He wants to return you with his own thankful emotions. #Yeah, Right.

On the day you were going to leave, he comes up to you and thanks you, than he says the magic words.

“Prefect…I want to give you something. Please have a bite. It’s a special apple I picked. It’s the most delicious apple I harvested and the most beautiful one! I cared for it so much!”

Epel now understands what Vil said for so long. His cuteness can become a weapon. Look at your eyes! You melt for his cuteness, and bites the apple without thinking twice, I mean, who can resist his cuteness. Instantly, you fall unconscious.

“Whoah!? That was close… but now you can be with us forever Yu! Snow White won’t hold a candle to you…. Let’s graduate together Ok? And we can be together forever…”

He’s a poisoned apple, what would you except? As the saying goes, looks can be deceiving.

Sebek Zigvolt

Ah, he says like 90% of the time about how fairies are better than humans, but for you, it’s an exception. He might not show it, but he cares a lot about you. He’s a tsundere after all.(No, you cannnot tell me otherwise) But he blames you for dumping him and making him feel bad.(AKA you two are not dating)

“This is your own fault human, you made me fall to your schemes and now you’re throwing it all away? Unacceptable!”

He may not show it, but he enjoyed school life with you and the other humans of his grade. He wants to live with you at the valley of Thorns. But your comment of going back to your world snaps something.

Better run away because lightning bolts are coming down in 10 seconds to smash that mirror. He will not let you go. And is you disobey…say goodbye to your eardrums and your freedom.

Silver

(Anyone else love this Silver’s face? I believe Silver can be a villain too, you won’t change my mind)

He is SHOCKED with a capital S. He’s a human, but raised by Lilia and fairies so he has fairy values and they may be SLIGHTLY different from humans especially about love.

He wants to be with you after graduation. He already planned a few preparations so you won’t be getting away.

Before you go, he casts his unique magic on you to appear in your dreams as a dashing prince. Saving you, chasing you, maybe choking you a little bit. Don’t worry, it won’t hurt. Convincing that your world is horrible and terrible, and you should come back to Twisted Wonderland and live with him. Silver is a prince, and you are his princess. To him, the bad witch is your world. After all, he needs to defeat the bad witch to save his one and only princess. Than he can live happily ever after.

#yandere twisted wonderland #malleus x reader #female reader #lilia vanrouge #malleus draconia #lilia x reader #rook hunt #rook x reader #epel felmier #epel x reader #sebek zigvolt #sebek x reader #yandere silver x reader twst

582 notes · View notes

noroi1000 · 11 months

Text

Evil Queen

paring: Good King Gojo x Evil Queen reader

For @blvckryx

Words: 8,9k

Warnings: deaths, NSFW (Sub Gojo, dom reader, tied to a chair, begging, creampie, tied cock, oversensitive)

Summary: All your fiancés died because you didn't want them as husband. You didn't want that much. After your father died, you were forced into marriage. At your wedding, your hands were handcuffed. You wanted to kill your husband - Gojo Satoru. But you couldn't do it, he's not dying. He let you try it. He's not the same as the others... You don't want to kill him...

"(y/n), you can't keep killing your husbands…"

You looked at your father as you looked at the silver bracelet you got from your prospective husband.

"He was not my husband. And I didn't kill him." You said calmly, watching the white diamonds on the silver.

"Zenin is not someone to play with. Honey, understand that you must have a husband." He said as he sat in his chair across the table in front of you.

"How many times do I have to tell you I didn't do it? He killed himself…" you snapped as you threw the expensive jewelry on the table.

Your father was a little afraid of you. And you were perfectly aware of it.

He didn't have much time left in this world, so he tried to leave his kingdom in good hands. Of course he trusted you.

You were relentless. You were so smart. However, you had no mercy even for the smallest thieves.

The good citizens of your kingdom lived peacefully, avoiding poverty.

You didn't want them to want you dead.

You punished all criminals.

Execution, imprisonment, or simply confiscation of property. Or sometimes irreversible disability.

That's what your father used to do.

Thieves had their hands cut off so that they could no longer steal. Prison escapees or those who were fleeing from justice had their legs cut off.

Adulterers were castrated.

You didn't mind. You gave orders to your hired people and they did it.

You didn't mind seeing death.

Not after you saw your future husband, the son of a scholar who was believed to be a sorcerer, kill your friend who has served you since you were little.

As you entered his chamber, you saw a passage to another room below. And when you went in there, you saw Kenjaku cutting the top of the skull off from the rest, and he started looking for something in your friend's brain.

Were you ever going to marry a murderer like him?

You've seen your father convict someone many times.

Your mother accidentally killed your little brother. However, you know what the truth was. She just miscarried. Your father decided that she didn't want to give him any more children, and that she defied him. She was his wife from an arranged marriage. He had her killed as punishment.

You loved your mother more than your father.

And you were afraid you'd die like her because something your father didn't like.

You tried to obey everything he told you to do. You were the perfect princess. That's why you were supposed to be the future queen.

But you wanted your Father not to have the power over you that he has now.

This is why…

That's why you did everything to be cruel.

You had no mercy for anyone who was like him.

Until it finally became your nature.

You weren't nice. But you tried to be good to your subjects.

In other realms they thought of you as a monster. Even if you weren't that cruel.

You were like that to people you didn't like.

You didn't like your husband candidates, so you did everything you could to annul your wedding.

They were either dying or trying to get rid of you.

Kenjaku died because when you were teenagers he started saying something to you that scared you.

He was a little older than you, and he said he'd like to create the perfect baby with you to help him carry out his plan.

You never wanted to marry him.

He died because he fell under the table and the heaviest knife he ever used to split skulls fell on his forehead.

It was as if you murdered him.

Soon after, your second husband appeared…

Naoya Zenin who died during a fight you practically arranged.

Let's just say, a lot of people didn't like him, so finding a candidate wasn't difficult.

But you still had clean hands.

Your third candidate for a husband is a man almost twice your age who has a teenage son.

Well, your Father seeks power and wealth.

He has almost only power.

This man killed the previous ruler and seized the throne.

Fushiguro Toji ruled over a large army. But he wasn't that rich.

You hated him for being such a terrible womanizer. He had a son, two wives if not more.

You were supposed to be his next wife. Even at a meeting with him, there was a woman next to him!

A direct guy who was too brave.

You want someone direct, but not someone like him who shows he can have anyone and does it right away.

As soon as he started approaching you like it wasn't the first time you'd met, you wanted to do something to him.

You did not want to deprive the child of his father, but you even learned that his son does not live in his kingdom!

When he was too insistent, two months ago you gave him a wound running through his mouth. And now there was a scar in that place.

And it's not like he gave up.

You still had to be his wife…

And he was killed fighting a prince of another kingdom.

You were on your way home at the time. Fight and death have passed you by.

You brazenly led Toji out of the house so he couldn't hide. Even though he was strong, there was no way he could win with that power.

Or so you thought.

And you weren't wrong. You received news some time later that your fiancé, Fushiguro Toji, was killed during the fight between his kingdom and the kingdom ruled by Prince Gojo.

Gojo…

Did you know that name…

Didn't this happen to be on your father's lists once?

Soon after, the same man became a king instead of a prince.

His image was in your father's eyes because he didn't want to get in trouble with the strongest kingdom.

He was a good king. Smiling and cheerful. But also deadly.

You weren't that selfish, but without your father, you would have ruled better.

Could there have been no deaths?

Be that as it may, you are involved in all of them.

Your father's chief servants wanted to drag you by force to the next husband candidate, but they mysteriously disappeared.

And only you knew what happened to them.

You knocked them unconscious with an efficient blow to the head with a rock, and left them in the woods. Where it was most dangerous.

And they never came back.

You have blood on your hands.

Your father thinks you'll be the evil queen.

But you don't want to rule by fear.

You hated being ordered around.

Because you wanted to choose your own path.

You have often thought about killing your father.

To dispel his fear of you.

He was the most feared of all these people.

You planned his death.

You didn't want to get married. Not for someone he chose for you!

You were forcibly dragged to the next candidate by the guards.

Ryomen Sukuna… King - monster. Self-proclaimed king of "curses", because when he cursed a people, they died at his hands.

A man who rules over people with fear…

Was this thing supposed to be just for you?

One thing was for sure, you didn't want to be his wife.

A man who drinks blood mixed with wine because he likes it?

No thanks.

But you agreed to your father's game.

You could have shown him that you wouldn't be as nice as you've always been.

You'll be soulless.

You can kill a monster like him.

Someone who with his bare hands, for fun, rips off women their children, babies, and rips off their heads?

Sick bastard…

Even you winced at the sight.

You could have been a mother once.

But there's no way you're having a baby with that thing…

Out of the candidates you had, Kenjaku would be the quickest to pick… He at least tried to be nice somehow…

But it wasn't ideal anyway…

You could kill as you wanted.

You can even be the evil queen. But you won't be blind to what's going on around you.

You were supposed to stay with Sukuna for a month and then get married…

You were always on guard.

You were like a pet to him.

And when he saw you stabbed one of his servants when they were about to put a collar on you like a dog, he smiled instead of being angry.

"You should get used to it sometime. I have so many. So go ahead and have fun." He said and waved his hand. "My woman has to get used to what she will see in wars and everywhere."

You wanted to go up to him and slit his throat.

You were like a puppy to him.

For him to stroke. You were supposed to be just like them to others.

You don't want innocent people to think you're such a monster.

You've killed some people, but never someone who didn't do anything to you.

You spent a lot of your days throwing knives at the wall. You've learned to always hit with the tip.

When you were told to prepare meals for your "husband" (even if he wasn't that and never would have been…), you put old blood of sick animals into his "wine".

Hoping that pig would eventually die.

You threw a knife at him once, and he pulled it out and threw it at you like it was a ball.

You're okay, but you've had enough.

You won't be with a sick bastard like him!

People will hate you when you become his wife against your will.

He had many enemies.

And you were one of them.

You were angry enough to play with him now.

Pretending to seduce him, you locked him in your bedroom.

A fool sees no trick.

Or is he just a sadist who loves to splash in blood?

You don't like it.

But since you have no choice, you will murder anyone who orders you to do anything.

You will kill every candidate for your husband until the choice is finally over.

You will be king on your own.

Even if your past was covered in blood.

You killed your penultimate candidate in bed.

You never wanted him to touch you.

That's why before he thought you two could have sex, you stabbed him in the throat.

To wait for his red eyes to close.

To his subjects, you came out of there a hero who made their lives easier.

No more monthly human sacrifices.

There will be no annual virgin sacrifice.

Nothing will threaten them anymore.

The bloody city has been abandoned. And people came to your kingdom.

More people meant more money for your father. More workers.

However, when you told him that you were the cause of your fiancé's death, he froze.

You showed him your dress which was bright with huge blood stains.

Blood that belongs to the king - Ryomen Sukuna's.

You never regretted killing someone who was mean.

His people were terrified, but they regarded you as their savior.

You gave them freedom.

you helped them.

But your father didn't like it.

No wonder one time, during your frequent look at what you managed to do as a princess, you were pushed off the balcony by your father.

As someone who cannot rule without killing.

Your reflexes were quick.

You instinctively grabbed whatever you could.

At the bottom of the square stood people who watched what was happening there with screams.

The guards started running up the stairs nearby to help you.

You grabbed your father's collar making him lose his balance.

As you grabbed the balcony wall, you pulled him forward.

And you saw your Father slowly approaching down the square. Until he finally fell.

A pool of blood you've seen more than once.

Were you a regicide?

No…

Rather, it was your Father who tried to kill you.

Your closest servant and friend - Utahime, helped you return to safe land with fear.

The guards dragged your body up as fast as they could, then took you to the medic.

You were not found guilty of killing the king.

Because he wanted to kill you.

And the people, when asked if they wished to convict you, refused.

You were the evil queen.

But you weren't the one for them…

You were the new queen.

However, according to your father's death decree, you must have a husband to rule.

Old boor…

He did it specifically for you to have a problem…

You received your father's letters with someone from the Gojo kingdom…

Even their letters were rich…

What if you get married and then become a widow?

You don't want someone to rule over you…

You want to live the way you want, and provide what is good to everyone who believes in you.

You don't want to marry someone like he probably is…

But you have no choice…

You will become his wife, and you will kill him.

Or maybe you'll at least have a baby so you won't be lonely…

So that no one will accuse you of not having a descendant and successor…

You haven't met your future husband.

The advisers and nobles who were your father's faithful servants prepared you for the wedding.

Your dress was beautiful, as befits a royal wedding.

Your only wish was that it be fast.

They all knew that you killed the kings of other kingdoms.

You didn't look at the face of the tall man who was standing in front of you as the ceremony began.

Your hands were handcuffed in front of your body with white gold handcuffs. They didn't look bad and they also held you back.

You've been searched first.

It was hard for you to take your marriage vows with your hands cuffed.

But your prayers for a quick end have been heard by the gods.

Now just a kiss and it'll be over…

The fabric on your face was pulled back, and you looked up a little higher, still not meeting your now husband.

Now just a sealing kiss.

Feel the disgusting lips of someone you don't even want to know…

You stared at one point, over his shoulder as his finger lifted your chin slightly higher as he bent down lower.

He was really tall.

Your lips were slightly parted, and shiny under the influence of natural, glossy lipstick.

"I know you don't want this…"

You heard him say softly.

You widened your eyes and he placed his lips barely on the corner of yours.

Did he just…

Didn't he just make you do something?

Your kingdoms are now connected.

You have become queen and your husband is Gojo Satoru…

You should be happy like the people.

People were happy when they heard the news that your kingdom will be merged with Gojo's kingdom.

It is said that justice, security and prosperity reign at a very high level in that kingdom.

All thanks to the new king. "Son of the Gods".

According to the priests, he was a prophecy of greatness. And eyes like blue crystals, created by miracles in distant lands, showed wealth.

Apparently, no one was disappointed, because all this happened.

They were more powerful than your kingdom. So much…

Much richer.

Even though your country was also prosperous. There were no neighborhoods where people died every day.

But it was even better there.

You used to live in the capital.

The capital was a royal city in the territory of his kingdom.

His close friends will take care of the new lands because he doesn't have much time to go there.

While your people were delighted, the people of his country were not.

How does a wonder child, a wonder king marry an evil Queen?

A queen who killed the kings of other countries who were her betrothed…

You were their queen now.

You want to fulfill your plan.

You will kill him.

But…

"You want to kill me, don't you?" he asked as he lay on his stomach on your bed, lazily eating some dessert.

Your hands trembled.

He knew you could kill him anytime.

However, he didn't seem to care at all…

How?

"Go ahead. You can try. However, I have promised some people that I will not die so soon." He said calmly.

Is he serious?

You can't listen to him!

You must do it!

You will not listen to someone who will probably hurt you!

Suddenly he looked at you from behind his black glasses.

"Let's play your game. Try to kill me. I will not attack you. You attack me and I won't do anything about it. When you kill me, you win."

"Are you serious-"

He interrupted you.

"I'm serious. I want to prove something to someone. What my wife is like."

Before you could somehow embarrass yourself by his words, you decided to give him back.

It sounded weird when he referred to you as "wife".

He was handsome.

And you even liked him.

But…

But you don't want him to hurt you.

You are the Evil Queen. And everyone hates you…

He also…

He can't prove otherwise.

He married you because he had to.

You were the cruelest queen ever.

And you couldn't change it…

you were like that.

What was he trying to prove?

You walked over to him and smiled slightly.

"It's a shame a man with eyes like that has to cover them with those stupid glasses." You chuckled softly.

"I'll take that as a compliment." He said with a smile.

You sat next to him.

You've been married for a month…

He looked at you scanningly.

You had no desire to kill.

You placed your hand on his back, then ran your finger over his palpable muscles under his white shirt.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"I spend time with my husband…?" You asked, wanting to ignore it.

"It's weird… You want to seduce me?" He smiled at you.

"Do you want it?" You gave him a mischievous smile.

"If I remember correctly what I heard, you killed Sukuna during sex. What if it happens to me?? This is not a clean game. That's not how I agreed. Only traps and fair attack." He turned to you, laying on his back.

"That's not true… I killed him before he could touch me."

"I thought evil queens used someone before they killed them. So maybe you're not the Evil Queen?"

"Shut up." You muttered, sitting on his stomach. "Just fair game. I don't have any weapons on me…"

"That's good. Because I'd love to be closer to my wife as long as I'm alive."

You leaned in to kiss him.

And for the first time you felt that his lips were soft. Not horrible and disgusting.

You didn't know what to do anymore.

Kill him?

Live with him?

You didn't want a husband. But the longer you're with him, the more you think you're okay with him.

He treats you so well…

He took your people and you too. The killer. Evil Queen…

And now he's telling you that you can try to kill him?

What's wrong with him?

For some moments you didn't want to kill him.

But you decided you'd do it before you changed your mind.

In order not to be hurt by him…

Was your relationship just sex?

You noticed that despite being so powerful, he could be a good boy and let you take control.

But never mind the sex…

You've already tried to kill him twice.

You gave him two poisonous plant decoctions to drink.

For the first time, it turned out that he does not drink wine.

The second time he sniffed his juice, and smelled it…

He just smiled at you and spilled it on the floor saying, "Failed try."

You were even able to pour something in his bath which, when poured over an object, burned the surface.

You're not sure what it is, but you hoped you wouldn't see him die.

The longer you're with him, the more you feel sorry for him…

When he dies, then you can cry.

The more you stick to it…

He got into another tub then…

And he directly told you later that he smelled sulfur in the bathhouse when he went in there.

Sulfuric acid in the water… Would that have any effect on him at all?

It failed with the poison, trying to kill him in the water.

The next time you tried to drown him when you offered to wash his back.

He knew something would happen.

You tried to push his head under the water, but you failed. You didn't even move it.

He just laughed.

Is this man really not afraid of death?

After all, you are the Evil Queen!

You really didn't want to see him die…

Did you notice that…

You don't want him to die in front of your eyes. Because you will feel sorry for him…

You tied the ax to the rope you had attached to the door.

The ax was heavy, but you managed to make the trap work.

When he opens the door, the ax will fall on him.

He entered the room, and then heavy weapons began to fly at him on a rope.

He jumped up, grabbing onto the rope, then landed on the metal embedded in the wall.

"Nice move, baby." He laughed.

"What the fuck…?!" his friend shouted.

"It's just our little game. Mine with my wife!"

Have you had enough of this…

You tried to push him down the stairs, but it came out like you were hugging him…

You're running out of ideas…

You felt worse and worse trying to kill him…

He kept smiling at you and letting you do it.

You have not been convicted of trying to kill the king not once…

There were no consequences for you.

You were lying in bed under the covers when he entered the room with a smile.

"Are you okay? You didn't leave today." He said as he closed the door.

You threw a knife at him.

He only tilted his head slightly as the knife pierced the door next to his head.

The incredible reflexes he had amazed you.

But he wasn't afraid of death at all…

"Leave me… Or else… What do you want, Satoru?" You asked turning away from him.

You felt worse and worse at the thought of killing him.

Was he the same as those?

He cared for you after all…

Is it worth killing him?

That's why you were in bed, sad.

"You know… I thought about our bath last night, and I got a little horny…" he murmured.

You looked at the bulge in his pants.

Admittedly, you've thought about it too, and you're sure you can take that big cock right away. After all, you must have gotten a little wet…

You pulled back the covers to signal him.

He walked over quickly, already pulling the length out of his pants.

You pulled up your nightgown and took off your panties, quickly wrapping your legs around his hips and letting him slide right into you.

You've had enough of this… You've failed…

The longer you look at that smile, your heart tells you that you love that look on his face…

Have you had enough of this…

The last time you try…

You will have blood on your hands…

His blood…

When he came into your bedroom in the evening, you kicked him in the back of his knees, causing him to lose his balance.

He knelt on the floor and looked at you.

Little tears flowed from your eyes.

You were supposed to kill those who hurt you…

And he…

And he never hurt you once…

But you'll kill him anyway…

And you'll probably regret it for the rest of your life.

You expected him to be furious.

But he looked at you with the same eyes as always.

And he smiled very slightly.

You held the knife tighter in your hand.

You were shaking a bit.

You've killed so many times.

He can't be your weakness…

He was supposed to be just like everyone else…

He was supposed to do what you don't want!

…But he didn't…

You walked over to him and tapped his shoulder with your foot.

He fell to the floor, lying on his back.

But he didn't even protest.

You put your foot on his chest and then sat on top of him, pointing the blade of the knife at his throat.

You breathed for the tears to disappear.

But looking at that scene below you, you couldn't stop crying.

The last light of the sun was reflecting off the knife today. It lightly illuminated the room.

You saw his gentle eyes and kind smile.

He didn't even move. Even if he could break free now and throw you off him, call the guards to take you to the dungeon.

But he doesn't…

"Why do you always have to smile like an idiot?!" you shouted. "Do you really want to die?!"

"You're beautiful even now." He said.

"Shut up! Why?!"

"From the beginning, I wanted to prove to you that you are not a cruel person. You don't want to get hurt. I wanted to show you that you can get love too."

You shivered as your heart pounded.

But with tears you brought the knife closer to his throat.

"Shut up! For everyone I'm just a queen that kills! I-"

"You're not an evil queen. You're the perfect queen who wants to take care of those she cares about. I know you may think differently of me than I do. If you think I'm like them, kill me. But I never meant to hurt you. What you do depends on you. I will accept what you give me. That's what you do out of love, right?"

"Y-You–!"

Your hands were shaking.

He still didn't move. He wasn't nervous at all.

"You won our game. Now I won't run away. I can't avoid it. I give you my life. I give it to my wife. Who is not an evil queen."

You squeezed your eyes shut.

Just one hand movement, and it's done.

You moved the blade.

You threw the knife on the floor, jumping off it.

You were kneeling on the floor, covering your face with your hands.

Two meters from him.

You can not do it…

You can't…

You felt something on your shoulder.

You looked over there.

"It's okay… Don't cry…" he said calmly and wrapped his arms around you very gently as he knelt behind you.

"I just wanted to kill you… so why are you now–"

"I love you. Isn't that reason enough? You are my wife. I swore allegiance to you. So I wanted to be true to what I said. I wanted to prove something to someone. What my wife is like. I wanted to prove to you that you have a good heart. If it wasn't, I would have been dead six months ago."

You moved.

He thought you would run away from him.

But you turned away, pressing your head against his chest.

He didn't do anything to you…

You couldn't kill him…

Because he was one of the few people who treated you differently.

Better.

Your husband was a good king…

You were supposed to be the evil queen…

You are not.

To him, you are the most wonderful woman.

He may have been against being with you at first, but he saw you walking around in dark dresses, making no secret of the fact that you were the cause of the deaths of so many important people.

You were nice. You cared about people.

And you didn't care what a cruel, bloody portrait you had in people's eyes.

Those who have listened to you believe that you are a good queen.

Those who don't know you think you're just a heartless murderer who out of selfishness and greed craves power.

However, you did not kill their wonderful king, who is not much different from this portrait.

His smile is on his face, but he has even more terrible scenes than you had.

Killing, torturing. Leaving to fate. Psychological and physical torture.

Cruel deaths.

He, the good king, hid this side from people.

But everyone knew the power in his hands.

You didn't hide the truth about yourself.

And the world shows you that sometimes a sweet lie is better than a bitter truth.

But what was supposed to connect you was never going to lie anymore.

It will be the sweet truth.

He promised you that people would recognize you.

And despite the fact that you have no heart and no mercy for criminals, you are actually a nice person.

As long as no one bothers you.

He got a chance from you. And you let him get as close as you've never been to anyone before.

You failed to kill him, and you no longer wanted to.

Not after everything he's done for you.

He himself could kill you and get rid of you.

But he didn't. He's not afraid that you might kill him in his sleep.

Because he trusts you.

Especially after you let him get so close to your body and heart that he'll never be able to leave again.

The first person you chose to be your husband, and you liked him, was him. Satoru.

Someone who thinks about you and not just about himself.

Even if he didn't want an arranged marriage, he somehow accepted you.

He liked the fact that you had emotions and your own opinion.

That you don't just live by what people think of you.

He only allowed you to try to kill him to prove to you that you are not what people tell you.

You're not cruel.

Even though you have no mercy, you are a loved one for those who are close to you.

Even though there aren't many people in your life who are so nice to you who love you, he was one of those people.

He deserved a place in your heart…

The only man you could love because he didn't see you as just killing anyone who was mean.

He was like that because he killed someone himself. That's the role of the king. Sentence to death, kill in combat.

He wasn't sure if he happened to be more murderous than you.

But your roles were made anyway.

Evil Queen and Good King.

Even if you're on a similar level at murder.

You will be Good, Beautiful Queen by his side.

And people can't say you'll be the same as you were.

Because you are his wife.

And what you decide, you do.

Because you are beautiful, strong and independent.

His great queen.

"It's okay if you still want to kill me." He said, stroking your head reassuringly. "I don't forbid you from trying your best. It was even fun…" he laughed.

You clenched your hands on his sides.

"You can still try to kill me–."

"I don't want to kill you…" you interrupted him, and suddenly you looked at him with a smile. "But don't think I'm going to be a gentle wife."

"And that's something I love." He smiled and placed his lips on your cheek.

"… I thought you didn't want to kill me anymore…" he moaned, feeling the ropes tighten on his body. "So what is it supposed to be?"

You wrapped a red rope around his chest.

He laughed as sweat slowly ran down his face.

He was trying so hard to be calm, but any human can start to panic the moment he can't move.

It was the same with him now.

If you wanted to kill him, you will surely succeed now.

You called him to your chamber. He came.

But then he realized it was quite dark there.

The windows are covered with thick curtains, and the lighting is provided by candles evenly distributed around the room.

There was a chair in the middle.

He called your name several times.

And he expected something perverted from you.

After all, when was it such a climate in the room? Warm light, alluring atmosphere. so good. So perfect for you.

As he walked over to the heavy chair, he wondered where you got it from.

It was definitely from here. Or did you have a carpenter do it?

It was tall and heavy.

Dimples on the legs, at the height of the ankles, and a specific shape of the back. Like it was perfectly made for his body.

It sure was comfortable.

And he could say it right away.

Besides, this height also showed that it was perfect for Him.

The red fabric covering in the middle and back contrasted with the dark wood.

Is this a gift for him from you?

If so, he'll be glad to lean you against the back of that chair and fuck you into oblivion.

But he knew it wasn't that kind of gift.

You are planning something.

As he ran his fingers along the smooth wood of the backrest, he felt someone pushing him.

When he turned around, he saw it was you. You stepped out from behind a large curtain, pushing him into a chair.

"(y/n)–."

"Don't move." You said grabbing his wrists tightly and pulling them back.

If he had tried to break free from your grip, he would have succeeded.

Because he is strong. But curiosity overcame him. He wanted to see what you would do to him.

But when he felt you wrap the string around his wrists, it was different.

He was curious what you would do to him. And there was also a dangerous excitement.

You've wrapped his big wrists many times as you've been training to keep him from breaking free.

His hands were tightly bound and the constriction in the lower part of the chair prevented him from getting up from the chair because his hands were behind his back and the chair was wider at the top of his back.

Even if he tried, his bound hands wouldn't let him get up.

It took some time to plan what this chair should look like…

And the king's carpenter agreed to do it.

As he leaned forward, you grabbed his head, catching his hair lightly, and pulled his head back, tugging on the white strands.

"No, my king. You can't move yet." You whispered in his ear.

As he listened to you with his pupils dilated to catch the light, you saw his ears blush…

You reached around him, passing the red rope from one hand to the other.

You wrapped his chest around it, leaving space where his tits were.

Something like this could be useful.

Later, you also bound his arms, making the bound hands immobile, and tied to the back of the chair.

You tied it with a strong knot, but you didn't tighten it on him so tight that it left marks. You don't want it to take away his blood supply.

"… I thought you didn't want to kill me anymore…" he moaned, feeling the ropes tighten on his body. "So what is it supposed to be?"

"I will not kill you, my king ~. You just said you wanted to play. Besides, I told you I wouldn't be a gentle queen." You laughed and knelt with him, spreading his legs, then tied his ankles to the legs of the chair. Rope fit perfectly into the cut narrowings.

So that's why it's there…

After you finished, he started to move a little. Struggling. But he couldn't move his body.

It wasn't like he was fighting to get out.

It's as if he's only looking at how powerful the ropes are.

And the sight of you in front of him in a dark red dress with lace was wonderful.

You were so different from other princesses and queens.

They all wore bright, clean dresses.

And you often wore darker colors.

Maybe it's also because the light ones get dirty very quickly?

Especially if the dress is long and touches the floor.

He almost completely calmed down.

Only his heart pounded in his chest.

His breathing was heavier.

You are his dangerous pleasure.

You did something unexpected.

And he liked it.

The dangerous excitement he felt now.

The direction of his blood was clearly directed to his crotch, and he slowly felt it begin to harden in his pants.

"A gentle queen would never do such a thing, huh… And my queen finally caught me, heh." He smiled conceitedly.

"That pretty smile won't be there when you beg me, baby." You said and quickly untied the back of your dress,

Taking it off as you tossed the expensive fabric aside onto the floor, leaving your red petticoat with stockings on you.

You were walking on a soft carpet with a heavy chair on it.

You wanted it to be so heavy that he couldn't knock it over very easily.

Two people brought it here, and it was really hard for them to do it, but they made it.

You also had other surprises for him today.

"Beg? What should I beg for, baby?" He asked with the same smile.

You stood up and grabbed his cheeks to make him look up.

"We both know you can moan and beg like a whore. So be a good boy 'cause I make you beg for touch." you kissed his lips before pulling away and knelt down again, resting your cheek against his inner thigh.

You reached your hand to his increasingly visible cock.

"You like it." You smiled harder.

"I like giving attention from my wife. Will you touch me?" His grin appeared.

At what he said you snapped your fingers at his increasing length, causing him to hiss softly.

"Such a big, nice dick… However, if you still think you're driving now, your dick will be in your pants all the time. So cramped and uncomfortable. Without anything to touch." You said. "So be a good boy. Agreement?"

He looked at you with a blush on his cheeks.

He liked it…

"… Yeah… My queen." he said with a small smile and blush.

"Good boy~."

Suddenly you took out a knife.

He looked at you questioningly.

"You didn't say you were going to cut me." He grunted dissatisfied.

"If I didn't say so, then I won't." You laughed and cut the threads holding the buttons on his shirt.

To finally pull both sides of his shirt hard, revealing his chest.

You wanted to laugh softly as his nipples hardened at the feeling of cold around him.

His pants were getting very uncomfortably tight…

Seeing his displeasure, you reached down to his crotch and unzipped his pants.

He lifted his hips slightly to help you take it off him.

And now his pants and underwear were at his ankles, further restricting his movements when he was bound.

Now he won't do anything. He won't run away.

His pink tip rested on his thigh.

His hands were moving because he wanted so much to start massaging his cock.

Seeing you in front of him just made his skin tingle.

But he couldn't do it.

Only you could touch him because his body was immobile.

You threw the knife to the floor with a loud clatter.

You took off your petticoat, leaving you in only stockings in front of him.

"Without underwear? Be brave, baby." He smiled at the sight of your perky nipples and sweet, soft pussy for him to look at now.

You placed your finger on his lips, silencing him.

"Shh… Do not say anything. If you're a good boy who listens, I'll give you a reward."

"What reward?" he smiled.

"If you don't listen, I won't touch you. And you won't be able to touch either."

"Hard Punishment…"

"I know. That's why you promise to be a good boy?" You stroked his cheek.

He nodded at you, looking away with a blush.

"Perfect." You patted his head. "Good boys always get rewards. And if you promise to be a good boy, why shouldn't I reward you?"

He looked at you curiously as you knelt in front of him, stepping between his spread legs.

Kneeling on his pants that gathered at his ankles.

That's the height you were after.

His cock was perfectly level with your tits.

You reached for his semi-hard cock, licking the tip lightly.

He sighed softly, wanting more…

You licked the bottom of his cock then pulled away.

He looked at you questioningly as you spat on your chest and then down his length, smearing your saliva all over him.

And you moved closer, placing his shaft between your breasts, smearing saliva on your skin.

And when it fit perfectly, you cupped your tits with your hands, making you rub his cock.

He made low grunts as the soft mounds brushed hard against him. Because it was so enjoyable.

You smiled as you watched his flushed cheeks as his flushed cock brushed the tip against your skin until his warm, an oblong and large piece of his body gave hot drops of precum onto your skin.

Much to his displeasure, your touch left his cock, leaving him standing at attention in your direction.

Before he could say anything, he stopped himself, remembering that when he's a good boy, you'll give him a reward.

He carefully watched your wet breasts and how you reached into your hair, untying the black ribbon that held your hair.

You kissed his head, and suddenly wrapped a thin ribbon around its base.

You wrapped the fabric strap around it, pulling it tighter before tying a bow over his balls.

You tweaked it a bit to get a nice view.

His cock, standing and shining, hard. A black bow over his balls. And on its base a tightened strip of material that oppresses it.

You sat on his lap, kissing his chest that wasn't covered with rope until you moved your mouth to his nipple, sucking lightly.

His muscles tensed as you bit down slightly.

Pinching his sensitive bumps with your fingers, you stood over his hips, rubbing your clit lightly against the tip of his, giving both you and him pleasure.

While you're kissing.

His tongue swirled in your mouth before you dominated the kiss, pushing your tongue into his mouth, causing him to purr.

But as his cock slid lower, touching your entrance, you pulled away from him completely.

You got off his lap and sat on the bed that was five feet in front of him.

"(y/n)~." he murmured. You could feel his plea for touch in his voice.

"You're such a good boy. But I have to punish you for breaking out in the beginning." You said with a winning smile.

You looked at his cock which turned from bright pink to red through the material that was tightened around it.

He looked so cute with that bow.

A big, pretty dick wrapped in a ribbon that swells and throbs.

He will moan so nicely when you sit on him~.

"When you don't complain, it will be faster for you ~."

You lay down suddenly on your back, dipping your fingers into your soft, wet folds.

Spreading out to show him your pussy.

You knew so well that his hungry eyes stared at your dripping folds.

You like the way he looks fucked up and flushed.

He will be very sensitive when you touch him.

With a small smile, you run your fingers over your clit quickly, widening your legs wide for him so he can watch and drool. What is he definitely doing.

It might be a little embarrassing to lie so open to someone, but it's worth your time. To see his fucked up face later when he wants to come.

To show him more, you inserted two fingers of your other hand into you, still moving quickly over your clit.

God, how he wanted to replace your fingers with his.

How he wanted to replace your fingers with his cock.

But he had to be a good boy because he won't get it at all.

Even if he tries to look away to stop feeling the throbbing in his swollen cock, your wet sounds and grunts will still make him stare at the beautiful scene before him.

Your pussy has always been so soft. He loved hiding inside of you so much. Hitting your soft body.

And now he also couldn't miss how your smaller hands are satisfying you.

He loved to dig his fingers and face into your pussy fat. Feeling soft. Feeling the taste. To feel your soft pussy sucking his hard cock inside.

If just looking could bring him to orgasm, he would have shot thick strings of cum long ago.

Not only was nothing touching him, but the bow on it would probably prevent him from coming. As befits a cock-clamping posture.

His breath quivered as your thighs trembled as well, and your fingers stopped as you came with a hollow groan.

He looked at his cock, red and begging for attention.

Drops of precum flowed from its tip, down its side.

If only he could somehow make anything touch his length…

He wanted so much to touch…

With a red face and hazy eyes, he looked at you as you sat on the mattress of the high bed, adjusting your stockings with labored breathing.

Seeing his almost teary eyes, you smiled slightly.

"what's wrong?"

You gave him a stronger smile.

He looked at you, then at his cock, then at you again.

A silent signal that he wants you to touch him.

"Sorry, I don't know what you mean."

"Come here…" he moaned.

"That's not how you should talk. A good boy doesn't talk like that." You waved your finger at him.

He sighed heavily.

He couldn't stand it…

Tears stung his eyes. He was so sensitive and the material on his penis wasn't helping.

"So? What should you say?" You walked over to him, sitting on his lap but being careful not to touch his cock.

His cock was crying with precum.

"Touch me." he murmured.

"I did not hear."

"Touch me." he said sharper.

"That's not how you should call me." You laughed. "I already told you that you would beg me. Show me your sweet face when you beg me."

Flushing, he watched as your hands massaged his thighs, close to his length, but you still hadn't touched him.

"So?"

"touch me please?"

"Better now. But say it louder."

Your fingers untied the bow, but instead of taking it off, you tightened the fabric a little tighter around his thickness.

He opened his mouth, letting out a trembling groan. His eyes released solitary tears as did his cock, which cried with more precum when squeezed.

"P-please…" he groaned, looking at you with glassy eyes.

Taking advantage of the drops of precum running down his cock, you tugged at the fabric, sliding it lightly over his cock. He hissed as he felt the pressure go higher up his length.

It pulsed. You've seen it so much.

His hips jumped as he tried to pull back, but he couldn't.

His legs moved, but he couldn't move them because of the ropes around his ankles.

"I can't hear you, honey~."

As you said, his smile disappeared from his face. And so red and desperate he looked so cute.

You felt your excitement run down your thigh at the mere sight.

"Please…"

"Say it louder and you'll get it." You ran your fingers across his chest.

"Fuck me… Touch me…"

"What are you saying?"

"Fuck me please!" he said out loud and you laughed.

You slowly removed the slightly wet ribbon from it, tossing it aside.

And to his relief, you grabbed his cock, smearing what was oozing from its tip down its impressive length.

So red and pulsating.

It's so begging to put it inside you, and feel all those veins on it.

When you petted him, he felt like he was about to explode.

He's coming really fast…

He doesn't care… He just wants to be in your pussy.

"Good boy."

You moved closer, aligning his weeping length below you, in straight line.

He was swollen. He was a little bigger than he would have been if you hadn't put that ribbon on him.

Which also makes him very sensitive.

He moaned loudly almost immediately as your entrance widened to accommodate the top of him.

After such torture, he finally got around to receiving your attention.

And it was such a great feeling. Almost overwhelming.

His eyes were still glassy and watery.

In one motion, you pushed it all the way in, waiting for you to get used to it.

But for him, the inside of your pussy was too good…

He had his hands on the ropes.

His eyebrows furrowed.

You wiggled your hips a bit, feeling swollen cock dilate you so much.

You looked at his face and smiled.

His arms were shaking. You felt him pulsating inside you.

It felt so good to have him inside.

So big…

You smiled as you sat motionless on his cock.

You kissed his neck.

"You can come. I know you're sensitive."

You jumped on his thighs, making your tight walls stroke him. he was moaning.

"I'm letting you come. Then do it, my king." You pulled his hair up slightly. "I want your sperm."

At your dirty words, he shuddered.

"Use my permission while you can. You don't want me to stop touching you again, do you?" You kissed his jaw to kiss him later.

You move your hips back and forth.

After no more than a moment, he moaned into your mouth, and you felt large amounts of cum filling you intensely.

You pulled it half way out and then sat on it again. Letting him end up completely inside you.

The feeling of his hot cum filling you inside was very pleasant.

Placing your hands on his lap, you arched your back back, watching as his cum flowed out of you with your movement. Even though his softening length acts like a plug for you to keep his seed from flowing out.

He was sensitive to the heat inside you.

But he knew it would make him hard again.

And ready to let your pussy milk him to the last drop again.

"Why are you still throwing a knife at me?" He asked as he tilted his head to the side as a knife landed next to his head.

"Habit… I'm just more irritable…" you said sitting on the bed.

"The blade never hits, so I know you're not trying to kill me." He laughed.

He walked closer to you and offered you his hand.

"People are waiting. Do you have the strength to get up?" He asked protectively. "Would you like to go there?"

"If the people want it, as their queen, I guess I must." You grabbed his hand and stood next to him. "Maybe they finally want to burn me at the stake as a witch."

"Don't joke like that. They would never want to do that to you."

"That's right. I didn't do anything wrong to them."

"You are a great queen to them. Besides, we have to share this information with them sometime."

"You're right… I'm just not used to that kind of thing. But I wouldn't be surprised if they still hate me."

"It's been so long. After all, everything is so perfect. Nobody's going to want to do that to you." He smiled, placing his hand on your lower back. "Besides, in audiences people asked if you were well, because they hadn't seen you outside for a long time."

"Really?"

"You are a great queen to them. How could it be otherwise. Besides, there are lots of people waiting to see us. Did you know that the ill health of a king or queen makes people sad? When they feel devoted to the ruler like those here, they don't play or anything until the ruler recovers. So everyone wants to know what's going on with you. So many times they asked Shoko when she went to visit you what was going on."

"Even as a medic, she didn't tell anyone?" You asked, grabbing his hand as you walked beside him.

"A secret is a secret. But it's best to finally talk about it." He chuckled softly. "If they ever find out anyway, better sooner than later. To avoid controversy among people. After all, not everyone can accept a secret that is still hidden."

"You won…" You smiled at him.

Your dark blue dress was picked up by him as you walk down the stairs next to him.

"Or maybe they want to burn me at the stake?" You asked laughing as you heard people clapping and shouting as the man said you were leaving.

"Does it sound like they want to do this? I hope you'll eventually get used to this kind of love people show."

You went out with him to the low terrace in front of the courtyard where the people had gathered.

When they saw you, they cheered.

Especially when your husband stood behind you, placing his hands on your belly visible under the dress.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #jjk x you #gojo x y/n #jujustu kaisen #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo x reader smut #sub gojo #sub gojo satoru #dom reader #royal au

2K notes · View notes

qvrcll · 8 days

Text

Warnings: mentions of political marriages, strangers > friends > lovers, kissing near towards the end, mentat at mind, lover boy at heart

The ordeal is simple — at-least on paper. You and Paul are meant to be wed on the single promise of a shared goal between the two of your houses, which come down to one thing and one thing only: security. Wealth, power and standing do not surmount to what, in Leto’s words, the Emperor has planned for the futility of house Atreides. He knows, Thufir knows, everyone knows, that Arrakis wasn’t branded to be some sweetly wrapped gift that fell into his lap when the time came to reward the duke. No - matters of this sort were much too systematic, especially at a scale such as this. Something must be done, to solidify the house of Atreides upon the rain-swept expanse of Caladan. Something to bind the Atreides to their mother planet long enough, so there might not be strife or conflict that sharpens whatever blade is held against them. So, wed Paul you must.

Simple doesn’t translate so easily against the obscurity that is the real world.

In the real world, the two of you are mere strangers. The only thing that binds the two of you is the responsibility bourne from the insignias that you wear, that are soon to culminate as two adjoining houses; whilst his happen to be two thick lines of silver against his collar, yours take on a different shape, a strange alterity between curves and striking lines, and shot through with gold against the sleeve of your garments. There is it — the mere tellings of your differences, as pure as day. He wonders how the symbols will look like, meshed together and serving as one. He wonders how he will appear next to you - frail boy or able man?

Half of the time, you catch his eye simply because you are there, sitting duly next to your father and ascertaining the weight of such a marriage past paper, when all is said and done. Other times, you are a blurring fragment in the hallways, swathed in your house’s colours and too fleeting to get a hold on, sometimes even flanked by your house’s livery. Mere strangers, he reminds the indiscernible feeling in his chest.

“Where is your head at? Focus!” Gurney growls out, more harsh tempered than his usual mood, as he crouches and takes Paul’s fair strike for what it was - a clean swipe that was meant for his chest, which now deflects smoothly off of the older, more haggard man’s shield, and sets the room abuzz with vibrations. And so the smell of ozone worsens, Paul calculates in his head, as he shakes his head thoroughly and shifts his grip on his weapon. Gurney isn’t impressed — not in the way he usually is. Paul knows he must answer.

“This is me focusing,” Paul offers, and doesn’t grit his teeth or possess a sudden candour with his strikes because he respects Gurney. But he cannot help the mood that has blanched him - voids, how he wishes he could confess those words, verbatim, to the older man who currently encircles his passes like a seasoned ring-fighter. But the word ‘mood’ had gotten him in line last week, when Gurney had simply upped his antics with the mere mention of it, “I’m just out of breath.”

“No, you’re not.” Gurney smiles, clenching his palm around the ragged hilt of the Kindjal. He knows, Paul thinks bitterly.

“No, I’m not.” Paul confesses. He tests a low swoop of his dagger - ill-advised - and reigns his laugh in when it catches Gurney off his feet, his back staggering against the training table.

Let’s see how you like this, lad, Gurney formalises in his mind, as he presses his defence like a bull and keeps his attacks slow and pulsing through the air, blinding all of Paul’s spots, “Is it the marriage?”

Cornered for tactics, and focusing mostly on not getting cleaved to pieces during training, Paul scoffs, “Of course it’s the marriage.”

“You’re scared.”

At this, Paul counters metal with metal, bounding back when it rings against his ears, rings against the room, “I’m not scared. I’m prepared to fulfil my duty, even if I am given options,” a dull parry, which still creates momentum, and thus space, between the two men, “I’m only uneasy because I’ve never actually met her.”

“You have. Several times. Or have you been asleep throughout your father’s meetings?”

Paul stresses a firm strike against Gurney, which repels off of his own shield by how close the dagger strikes the space between them. But he’s good at catching himself. Gurney, unused to Paul’s strange and newly learnt manoeuvres, falls short. He tries to counter, but cannot, but he is most impressed for it.

“Concede.” Paul breathes, low and attempting a threatening veil, as Gurney’s back meets the floor. The old man grunts, before nodding deftly as Paul hauls him to his feet with one palm alone. They settle in different corners of the room, silence beseeching both of them suddenly - they’re not two men for silence, but in Gurney’s head, Paul is undergoing a strange part of his life. He wonders if Paul fears it in the night.

Paul interjects Gurney’s thoughts.

“Do you - have you… met her?” his voice is meek. Uncharacteristic. Gurney smirks.

“Once or twice, in the hallways.”

“And? How is she?”

Gurney laughs. The boy is eager today.

The next time I see her, I will speak, he promises.

Better said than done. With no similar companions his age - a course of action being the very result of his heritage, his mother reminds him - he truly doesn’t know how to properly seek you out. You are more shadow than friend, more idea than person, and the more he sees you, the more he forgets.

“Something on your mind?” Duncan nudges him with the edge of some Fremen equipment, that bothers him well enough to dredge out Paul’s concerns. Not that he needs to. It is written on his face.

“Yes,” Paul confesses, readjusting for comfort, “It’s about my marriage.”

“You speak as though you will marry tomorrow. It is not set it stone. Not yet.”

Paul scoffs, “I know that. I just haven’t met her yet. And I want to.”

Duncan, in the midst of polishing some hardware and solar devices, that smell quite faintly of hot sand and the sun, pauses to glance away from Paul’s face. When his gaze returns, it is almost teasing, a smirk ripping across his face, “You’re in luck today.”

“What?” Paul swivels and —

Oh. Oh.

You’re standing there. Hands clasped behind your back, yes. Stoic, assessing expression, yes. Clothed in rich colours of your house, as you always are in his passing vision - only this time, it is a green so deep that it comes across as black. Suddenly, realising that you have been found out by not only Duncan Idaho, but by the Duke’s son himself, you uncharacteristically let slip your own embarrassment through wide eyes.

“Oh. My apologies — I, uh, didn’t mean to intrude. I was just curious by the - er - gadgets.” you fumble for words at a rate that would be comical if not for the morbid embarrassment seizing you by the seconds. You’re shaking your head politely, smile strained and legs rooted where they are and ready to melt into the various corridors - back to your own duties, you assume. Away from company. Paul, however, stands linearly and full of purpose, face constructed of hard lines that all smile at you.

“No, please. Join us,” his voice is smooth - you’ve never heard him talk, even around those board room meetings - and his hand is extended to gesture within the space, “I insist.”

Duncan raises a brow in amusement and Paul wants to tamp his feet down with a neat blow. That pulls a chortle out of the man, which only further startles you. Paul invites you cordially to take a seat, where you fit awkwardly, like you were truly imposing. However, in a manner of minutes, that is all erased when Duncan lets the two of you weigh the objects in your hand – sand compactor, weapons, stinted devices that were far too aged to be still of use but gathering attention nonetheless. When Paul passes it to you, he feels your soft fingers pass underneath his own, where a warm feeling curdles as an afterthought.

“This—is a sand compactor?” you ask warily, tilting the device as though it would spring up on you and dissolve to bits. Duncan barks out a laugh.

“For sand compacting, yes.” he humours you. You, however, are too lost on the object, still swirling it around in your palms; eyes peeled downwards.

“Yes. I see.” you reply.

The two men dissolve into a fit of laughter. You look up, eyes helplessly trailing from one to the next. The day is easy.

Paul is thankful for the event, and so are you. It doesn’t solve all his problems, and his head is always probing with inquiries and worries, but he can count on the off chance of seeing you in the hallways. He can count on the fact that you will pause, meet his eyes and smile.

You’re walking the countless hallways of the estate - Caladan had so much water to offer, but no one on your native planet ever mentioned the striking architecture, the hollowed out walls and think-pieces painted across rooms. High domed ceilings, with absolutely nothing to offer but soft light. Some rooms contained scintillating glass, chairs of different shapes and mediums, tables too big for just a few affairs. Others were bound shut, but that didn’t discourage nor intimidate you, nor your entourage.

On one such day, you’re caught in your explorations by none other than the Atreides heir.

In actuality, it is you who catches him first, stood perfectly still at the end of the corridor and holding a terse expression. When he spots you, his shoulders relax and he manages to blink once, before his mouth opens underneath the realisation that you were really here.

“Hello.” his voice is strong, and carries well.

That was awkward. This is always awkward. He curses himself.

You smile, and it swipes at the ground beneath his feet, “I didn’t expect to see you here.

“This is my residence, yes?” more jest than anything else. You snort.

“I am aware. Your residence is quite beautiful. I like to wander,” you say, finding yourself fixing a meandering pace beside him, and he smiles softly when he realises that he, too, steps beside you at a similar speed, “I hope you don’t mind.”

“I don’t. Never.”

It is quick work after that – by pure coincidence, that you joke to Paul that is it is methodical instincts and ground-work as a mentat that he is able to summon himself almost anywhere you are present from that point onwards, you two bump into each other more and more in the corridors, and from there, it extends to the rather large library, the training space with Gurney skirting its edges, the ever-blossoming gardens even, which held more water than shrubbery in retrospect. Meetings pertaining to your marriage held an element of amusement now, as Paul actually tries to catch your eye this time, drumming his lithe and smooth fingers against the table in a way that could’ve passed off as a wandering of his mind as his father droned on about security measures and fuel caps, but you notice.

You hadn’t, not before, but you did now. To his pleasure, you even respond in a tiny flickering of fingers against the age-old meeting table, the vibrations a blur against his obvious contentment.

“You look glad.” Gurney comments and Paul realises how uninvolved his attention had been on the room before him. He quickly assesses it and whatever lays within it; table, check. Light source, check. Scratchy walls, check. Gurney’s ever-gracing height, check.

When had his habits, trained and chained to duty, begun to sweep towards you?

“Do I?” Paul asks, keeping his voice as still as he can manage. He had swiped at his face to rid the itch off his brow, but he unwittingly catches how warm he is. Not uncomfortable, no. But enough to leave a mark on his consciousness. It was like he was simply losing grip on his own composure when he thought of… something. It was still fleeting in his own mind.

He is too afraid to retrace his steps and find a familiar pair of eyes staring at him in the recesses of it.

Gurney slaps a hand on Paul’s shoulder, seemingly articulate with the latter’s feelings. Old man, Paul would curse out in jest, but he merely smiles. It is strained, and strange. Paul never puts an effort into his smiles, Gurney notes.

“Something is on your mind.” Gurney clicks his tongue.

Paul blinks, swallows, “Something is on my mind.”

“Out with it.”

Paul hesitates, which is strange, because in all his fights he is the first to stoke the flame. He isn’t vengeful – at-least, he doesn’t think he is – that’s why his strikes lack a hunger for blood and instead, settle for calculation. Briefness. No means to an end just yet. Or ever, he thinks.

But with you, it’s different. That’s what he spits out, what he lets Gurney work with. How you were a supposed intrusion into his life – something he had assumed would be awkward, like a stab wound that had scabbed over and began to weakly throb in pain, always to remind itself of its own compromise to work around demise. He thought you would be that; but upon meeting you, you were anything but that. You were curious and brilliant in your own way – similar to him, yet miles apart so that you were the form of a friend he had always wished for in his youth. You talked about your interests and spent double your time inquiring about his. When your hands brushed, his own grew clammy – that’s the strangest one of them all, Gurney – And something was blossoming – was it friendship? Was it trust? Was it fear?

What was this spattering and gooey mess slipping over the swell of his heart whenever you appeared? What was it?

He talks and talks and talks until Gurney squeezes his palm over Paul’s shoulder in a way an uncle would do to his nephew who he might want to reassure. Or a brother would to his youngest companion, as if to say: I see you. I hear what you say.

“Sounds to me like there’s an awful lot of trust between the two of you,” Gurney clicks his tongue again, only this time, Paul scoffs. Ah, there he is – there is the Paul Atreides I know, Gurney smiles, “And something else too.”

“What is it?” Paul asks. His eyes are curious, brows furrowed. Gurney holds down the laugh building in his chest, and the emboldened words in red: you’re falling in love with this friend of yours, boy, and instead, pats him on the shoulder.

“Piece of advice, if you’ll heed to anything I say,” Paul straightens with attention, “Let the truth flow. Do not stop it. Do not push it back. To live with the truth, you must learn its ways and be one with it.”

That night, Paul walks back to his room with the truth beneath his skin, and listens to his own heartbeat against his pillow. The rest of him warms with the realisation of, oh, oh, oh.

The next time you see Paul, you think you’d done something to offend him. Or bore him. Or something other.

It had become a pleasant habit; meeting him at the Caladan gardens, opting for a spot and sitting with your backs to the grass, counting the stars as you talked. Before, conversation had tipped forth whenever. Now, there was something in the air – tension. And it is him that brings it.

Paul avoids your eyes, settling instead for the vast colouring of grey across the hallway walls whenever he caught you in it. He had stopped sending you the familiar drumming of his fingertips across the meeting table, and instead always froze up when you met his gaze, whereby he turned red with anger – or was it anger? What was it?

He’d always be staring at your face, and you would wonder if there was a piece of parchment stuck to it, or if he was merely bored around you; most days, you allowed it. It stung, yes, but you had nothing ill to hold against him. But it accumulated, unbeknownst to you, and for him to miss your question yet again made you sigh in defeat – disappointment?

“You seem distracted,” you say, not bothering to shield the hurt in your words, though you couldn’t begin to understand why and when you had ever begun to crave expect the attention of his earthen-dusted eyes, “Am I boring you?”

He straightens up, his eyes wide, which in turn surprises you, “Bored? Seven hells, no. ‘Course not.”

“What did I just ask then?”

He cringes, “I promise I’m not bored. Just…”

His fingers flex in his lap, before curling into themselves, and his cheeks warm slightly. Is it happening now? Is he doing it now? The weather was right; a typical Caladan breeze, heavy with the wetting of the sky from the day, and now shrouded with clouds and a darkness that was impenetrable. Even as the two of you laid against the bare grass, no one outside could tell either of you apart from the ground itself. In the moonlight, you were almost one with it.

“Just?” you ask. You were curious of this now, “Just what?”

“Just!” he sucks in a harsh breath, his sharp face now boyishly soft and pliant in a way you hadn’t seen it before, “I… Just promise you won’t take offence to this.”

How ironic.

“I promise, Paul,” you smile, shoulder bumping against his as you glance at the side of his face, the way his nose shapes perfectly against the dampness of the Calandan wind, “Tell me.”

Be one with it. Be one with it. It is a mantra in his head.

“I realise that I have begun to grow a certain, uh, affection for you. Yes, I like you. I don’t know how it had begun. And I know it’s foolish of me to even act this way when we are set to marry. But I know, in my heart, that—“ a breath, as he nervously glances at your now surprised face and oh, he shuts his mouth. He opens it again, panicked, “My apologies. I shouldn’t have—let me—”

“Paul.” you stop him, hands against his one arm that seems to be quivering ever so slightly – how much of it can he hold?

He waits. Bated breath.

You smile, shy and sweet and it whips against him in a way that the wind of his mother planet had never managed to. Here is my dear friend, he thinks, my dear friend who was but a stranger a long time ago and is set to marry me once talks have been concluded. Here is my friend who I have poured my stupid, ill heart to and who still looks at me with kindness.

“I like you too.”

He blinks. He looks at you when you speak and watches, really watches, how your mouth forms against the words. I like you too.

“As a companion? Or friend, at best? Is that what your ‘like’ refers to?” he asks, nervous in the face of your admission. It makes you smile, as he rambles slightly, and though his countenance is that of poise and grace, beneath he is a a boy of tender heart. Smiling, you grab the front of his thick coat lapel and watch his words die on his tongue as you place a feathery, warm and soft kiss against his mouth. It was so unbelievable, he thought he’d conjured it all up – that you weren’t here, timidly kissing him with a sheepish smile on your face, and the stars of his home glinting against your skin. He lets his finger brush your cheek, still dumb-struck.

“Again.” he whispers. His heart hammers at the sound of your breathy laugh, as you repeat the action, conviction in your palms as they lay upon his cheek, “Again, please.”

“Again?” you ask, voice soft and muted as he hoists you atop of his front, chest to chest, and gazing at him like he was everything. Within the action, your golden insignia brushes his own, silver ones so briefly that he can make out a shape bourne from the contact of either two, before they separate. You wanted him, as he wanted you. And soon, you would wed, and the image of gold upon silver won’t be so unclear anymore. Maybe, somewhere warmer and less unbelievable, he could let himself grow familiar with the reality of you. But for now, he could settle for this to be a mere dream he had grown to relish so very much. Even now, he could almost believe none of this to be real, just a trick of the mind. Maybe fatigue or delusion.

He says your name so quietly, a plea, and it has never sounded sweeter, “Please.”

And yet, the soft press of your mouth upon his convinces him that it is so much more.

i wanted to incorporate some inferences of paul’s character from the early novel (mentat, solitude in terms of companions, great fighter), as well as the film, whilst wanting to stray away from the destruction of house atreides after the gifting of arrakis, which would explain why the marriage needs to take place. sooo no one dies! HURRAH!!!!!!!!! enjoy :]

#paul x you #dune paul x you #paul atreides fic #paul atreides x you #paul atreides fanfic #paul atreides x reader #paul atreides x y/n #dune x you #dune x reader #dune part two x reader

281 notes · View notes

baldursgate3tempobsessed · 6 months

Text

Astarion Very Happy Ending, Part 2

Hey y'all, so I did a part two of this because I love happy, insanely, fluffy romantic endings. So I'm going hard here. There will be one more part!

Also, don't judge my Gale x Shadowheart bs here 💀💀 Long story short, first playthrough that was abanadoned, I picked her orgin and did get sweeped up by the mage man. It has not left my brain since.

Also, this has a time skip! A pretty long one too (10 years)

Astarion had been having… thoughts lately. Ideas that he couldn’t quite shake. Nothing bad, no. There really wasn’t much to complain about in his life, not anymore. Not when he could walk in the sun freely, unburdened by parasites and his own vampiric nature. The two of you were free to explore the world with no shackles, not including your religious zealotry. And ironically enough, his own.

Astarion would never have guessed that he’d ever become a Selune convert. Well… even now convert may have been to strong of a word. Yes, he was immensely appreciative for the whole sun immunity blessing and he did have a newfound respect for the work of her worshippers. But Astarion wasn’t exactly looking for a deity, or anyone, to be subservient to. Not again. No, he’d much rather watch his love do the dirty work for his savior than fully commit himself. Besides, just because he wasn’t devoted to Selune didn’t mean he wasn’t devoted to you. Which might as well have been the same thing.

Astarion loved you, adored you really, but gods could you be nonsensical at times. He was so happy the two of you had met because someone had to keep this idiotic fanatic alive. Someone to remind you that no darling, not everyone is redeemable. Please put the goblin down.

But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy being your protector. It was the least that he could do considering everything you’d done for him. And he just… liked having a valid excuse to accompany you everywhere. Astarion had never imagined himself to be such a clingy lover, but here he was. The two of you had been attached at the hip for nearly a decade now, with no end in sight. You had built a life together, had friends together, adventures and celebrations that filled his days with endless excitement and amusements.

That is one thing Astarion had to give Selune and her worshippers, they didn’t exactly lead boring lives. Though he supposed half of that had to with just how involved the opposition was. The two of you had slaughtered enough acolytes of Shar over the years for him to know just how covert they really could be. But it wasn’t just bloodsport that made things interesting, though it certainly did help. The exploring for ancient artifacts definitely helped to fill the time, as well as the constant search to find a cure for the rest of his unholy symptoms.

As great as being in the sun was, Astarion wasn’t quite satisfied with that being the end. It was almost certainly impossible to find a full on cure to being a vampire spawn but… that wasn’t stopping either of you from looking for it. It was morbid, but Astarion wanted his life to have an ending. A natural one like what he hoped for you, not one where he was doomed to immortality and bloodlust until the end of time.

Thank the gods that he had managed to fall in love with an elf. It at least gave him centuries instead of decades to figure out a solution to an eternal problem. Which brought him back to his current problem. Because the two of you had many, many years ahead. And as far as Astarion was aware you both planned on spending them with each other. Which implied… certain things.

Astarion had never been someone to fantasize about marriage. He had no reason to, not when he had been too busy barely surviving. Even when things became serious between the two of you it hadn’t been on his mind. He was much more concerned with keeping you at all instead of keeping you forever.

But that had changed recently. Maybe it was because he had seen you officiate countless weddings over the years; young couples always clamoring at a chance to get a newlywed Selune blessing. Or maybe it was how others took note of the lack of a ring on his finger, taking it as an opportunity for unwanted flirtation. But either way, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Obsessing about it really, as he was want to do when it came to you.

He just… didn’t exactly know how to broach the subject. What was the reason? A silly little ceremony and a ring had no bearing on the depth of your relationship. He knew that. The two of you were bound to each other by choice, a love that felt as though it got stronger every day. But… it would be nice to have you in such a way. For the world to be aware of the seriousness of what you had together, shown simply through a pair of rings. And the thought of calling you his wife was quite enticing.

He wasn’t quite sure why he was so hesitant to bring it up to you. Well… there was the slight delusional thought in his head that reminding you of forever could possible wake you up into realizing just how much better you could do than him. It wasn’t true, he was aware. But gods, your relationship had lasted a damn decade. When was he going to start feeling secure about all of this?

It didn’t help when Gale of all people beat him to the punch. He and Shadowheart had developed quite the bond since your tadpole days. And your excitement over the announcement was adorable. Adorable enough for him to wonder just how you would react to it happening to you.

But he shoved his worries to the back of his mind, too busy being dragged all the way to Waterdeep for the week-long nuptials. You were highly involved in the wedding, which wasn’t exactly a shock. Shadowheart had stayed your best, most appreciated friend throughout the years, the two of you eternally tied through your shared goddess alone. You wrote to each other constantly and this was far from the first time you had dragged him across the realm for a visit.

But this was probably the best time. He had to give the people of Waterdeep this, they knew how to celebrate. He wasn’t one to complain over a week filled of music, dance, and drink. The ceremony had been nice as well. Heart-warming even to watch Shadowheart walk down the aisle, smiling in a way she never could when she was devoted to Shar. With Gale sniveling at the other end and you officiating of course.

The jealousy had been an unexpected touch. He couldn’t help but wonder what you would look like in her place. Dressed in white and silver, walking towards him with eternity in mind.

It certainly wasn’t helping his dilemma, he could tell you that much. He was still thinking about it when they made it to the reception. It was impossible to bury thoughts of marriage when you were at a wedding. Would you want a large celebration like this? Or something more small and intimate? Hells, the two of you and a cleric in the middle of the woods would suffice to him.

“To think, Astarion Ancunín at my wedding in the sunlight,” Gale laughed as he plopped down in the seat next to him, effectively putting an end to his internal fretting, “Who would have ever imagined?”

“Certainly not me,” Astarion scoffed with the slightest hint of a smile, “But I suppose things change.”

“I suppose they do,” Gale agreed, his eyes scanning the dancefloor for his new bride. There she was, dancing and giggling with you in the middle of ballroom, “I just never expected it to be for the better.”

“It is a wonder that we’re all still alive,” Astarion agreed, smiling to himself when Shadowheart dipped you as you laughed hysterically, nearly falling over herself in the process, “Let alone being able to find love. Who would have thought the worshiper of the goddess of the dark would end up here.”

“Turns out she was hiding quite the personality behind the Shar mask,” Gale laughed, “Though I suppose we have Tav to thank for that. It was a real fight on who would have her as their best woman. A fight we both obviously lost. Though officiating seemed a good compromise.”

“She certainly has the experience,” Astarion sighed, “But I have a feeling this one will be her favorite. She’s happy for you two. We both are.”

“I’m happy for you too you know,” Gale added with a small smile, “I always thought the two of you would work out. I even made a killing in the pool we had going on for it.”

Astarion stared at him, brow raised, “You had a pool?”

“Oh absolutely,” Gale confirmed, completely shameless as he listed out the rules, “It got quite competitive after awhile. First, it was all about if you’d ever realize your feelings for her. Then when you went and did that we were betting on how long you’d both last before you left. And then when that didn’t happen, well. Let’s just say I got a few platinums richer.”

Astarion rolled his eyes at the news, barely even surprised, “I feel as though I’ve earned a cut of that.”

“Unfortunately it’s now our honeymoon fund. But I’ll owe you one.”

That was another aspect of this whole debacle that Astarion hadn’t even thought about. But gods, did it sound nice. Whole weeks dedicated strictly to the two of you. No religious duties or adventures to worry about, just… them.

The joy of the thought must have shown on his face, because the next thing he knew Gale was looking him up and down, a small smirk on his lips, “What’cha thinking about over there?”

“That this wine is mediocre at best,” Astarion lied, avoid Gale’s eyes, “Tell me you at least got a good deal on it?”

But Gale wasn’t taking the bait. He was still watching him like a hawk. That was the problem with getting closer to people, and having, gods friends.

You had to deal with the discomfort of being read like a book, “Does our little Astarion want to be wed?”

Astarion flinched at the accuracy, taking the time to shoot him a glare as he avoided the question, “I am nearly three centuries older than you.”

“Perhaps, but we both know two of them don’t count,” Gale said, barely missing a beat, “So tell me, do you already have a ring picked out?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I can help you pick one you know, there are many fantastic jewelers in Waterdeep. I believe she has the same ring size as Shadowheart, we can bring her along.”

Astarion rolled his eyes, ignoring the small blush creeping up his neck, “I want you to know that if this wasn’t your wedding day I would have slapped you by now. Consider my reluctance as your wedding present.”

“How generous of you,” Gale chuckled. But then he started to speak quieter, his voice taking on a more gentle and serious tone, “She would say yes you know. You’ve had her wrapped around your finger since the day you held that dagger to her throat.”

That was an exaggeration, but Astarion would be lying if he said the mention didn’t make him preen the slightest bit, “You forget that I did have competition.”

“Oh, barely,” Gale laughed, “You don’t get to reminisce of what could have been when you won. Gods, no one had any chance against you. And trust me, we tried.”

Astarion blinked at him, more than a little surprised, “You did?”

“Of course we did. We all did. What do you think Shadow and I bonded over? But the pining stopped eventually. Then it became…something more. Something deeper. She’s… a magnificent woman, my little shadow. Who has gone through too much…” Gale trailed off, his eyes still following his bride as he softly smiled, “Suffice to say, neither of us are pining anymore. And I’m sure Shadow would love nothing more than to help plan her dearest friend’s nuptials.”

“Who ever said that you two would be involved?” Astarion scoffed, just to be an ass, “For all you know we’ll elope in Neverwinter.”

But Astarion’s grip backfired, if the smile on Gale’s face meant anything, “So that means you are going to propose?”

Oh for fucks sake. Astarion glared at him for the accuracy, at a loss for words. Besides it… it was true. Of course he was going to ask, where else would this fanatic line of thinking end? He just hadn’t expected Gale of all people to be the one to force him to admit it.

“I-yes,” Astarion sighed, finally giving in, “Are you happy now? Yes, I’m going to.”

“Extremely,” Gale grinned, “Because you just won me another three hundred gold.”

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #you'll pry my long posts out of my cold dead hands #cute bullshit #proposal planning #yeah we're getting married #who can stop me #you can't #fluff #fluffy fluffy fluff

787 notes · View notes

fairysluna · 1 year

Note

hi! not sure if you’re receiving request rn but if u are would u do a one shot cregan x targ wife? basically domestic stuff with their kids who’s half wolf and dragon and all the fluff <33 i love ur writing style sm!! don’t forget to take care of urself :)

AMONG DRAGONS AND WOLVES

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Targ!Reader.

Summary: Once the time has arrived for your child's dragon egg to hatch, things don't go as planned, and Cregan simply cannot stand the sight of his son's saddened eyes.

Tags/TW: fluff, mentions of pregnancy, cregan being a dilf, and just that I think, it's pure fluff tbh.

Author's Note: THANK U for requesting this, I've been waiting to write something like this since I wrote my first Cregan one shot. Just softie Cregan for you, anon, hope you like it!!🤍

Word Count: 2.0k

"What are you doing here?" He asked, visibly worried as he stood up from the snow leaving the two boys behind, "You should be resting…"

A small chuckle left you as he placed his big hand on top of your swollen belly, you looked down at it for a few seconds before looking up to his face. The love in his eyes was visibly obvious as you felt, once again, bewitched by his deep brown stare. The same butterflies that were present the day of your wedding, were flying in your stomach as you felt his loving touch on you. So protective and caring.

"It's time for Rickon to go to his classes with the Maester," you informed. The older child looked at you with puppy eyes, begging for you to not send him away from his little brother, "go on, pup, he's waiting for you… you can play with Aelor after you've finished."

The brown haired boy stood up from the snow and walked half-hearted towards the castle. Once he passed right beside you, you stopped him to kiss him softly on his forehead before letting him go. As a response, he wrinkled his nose and left obediently. Cregan saw the tender scene with a smile on his face,

"He was comforting his brother," Cregan said, "Aelor needed his company."

"We've talked about this, this is usual, this happens to everyone… My brother, Aemond, went through the same thing and now he rides Vhagar," you shrugged.

"He's ten, he doesn't understand it, he feels unworthy," he turned around to look at him.

Aelor Stark, a beautiful brown haired boy who carries his mother's eyes. The first born son product of your love for Cregan. He was bigger than the other children of his age, and his only friends were his half-brother, Rickon, and his younger sister of five, Lysara.

And while Lysara's egg already hatched, Aelor's hasn't been so lucky to say the same. The poor boy spent the prior night crying on your lap as Cregan looked at you with pure distress in his eyes, knowing that he wasn't able to do anything that could cheer his son up. That same night, you told Aelor that he could claim a dragon of his own once he was old enough… but, as your husband said, his sadness was not only because he didn't have a dragon yet, he felt sad because he felt as if he was unworthy of having one.

"I can't bear to look at his saddened eyes," Cregan said, "he has your eyes, everytime i see sadness in them is as if I'm seeing sadness in yours. I can't allow my family to be miserable."

"We're not, my love," you quickly answered, placing your hand on his cheek, "you have given us nothing but pure happiness. What is happening is beyond our control, is what nature desires."

"We need to do something," he spoke sternly, "I will not sit back and see our son suffer."

You couldn’t help but smile genuinely at his sweet words.

"There's nothing left to do, we just need to wait and take him to King's Landing so he can claim an already hatched dragon… there are plenty of them."

"Is it my fault?" Cregan asked suddenly with a soft voice. You quickly frown, visibly confused.

"Your fault?"

"What if my- my genes are too strong and his Valyrian blood is not working… he already has brown hair, and-"

A chuckle was heard as you stood on your tiptoes to silent him with a soft kiss. He immediately grabbed your waist as he sighed once you captured his lips in a touch that made him forget about everything for just a couple of seconds. That was the power you had on him.

Once you pulled back, Cregan's eyes slowly fluttered open until his eyes met yours. He took a deep breath and you smiled,

"This is not your fault," you said slowly, trying to make him understand, "you're a wise man, husband, it surprises me that you were able to think such a foolish thing."

"I apologize," he muttered, a bit embarrassed.

"No need, my love," you softly shook your head and sighed before pecking his lips, "now, Lysa is asking for her father, she said you promised her to help her with her Valyrian classes."

Cregan smiled embarrassed, a soft tone of pink covered his cheeks as he looked down at the snow beneath his thick boots. You bit your own bottom lip as you let out a breathy laugh, seeing your husband being so flustered was a bit amusing for you.

Especially because you knew you were the only one who was able to make him feel that way.

"She told you, she betrayed our pact,'' he said between soft chuckles.

"I told you it wasn't necessary…"

"I want to be able to teach them, my love. They're my children too, I need to be part of their culture."

"That's very kind of you," your arms wrapped around his waist as you kiss him again.

"You won't be able to gossip about me in another language," he joked between pecks.

"I would never gossip about you, you fool," you laughed.

Cregan placed his hands on your face and took a look at your features for a long time. He would always do that; hold your face between his big hands and stare at your beauty for a few seconds, admiring every single bit of you. He sighed, completely enamored by the view in front of him, and then he gently rubbed his nose against yours, closing his eyes but still being able to perceive your small smile.

"You're the most beautiful woman in the world, my love," he whispers, pressing his forehead in yours, "I love you more than words can tell, my princess."

Your heart, filled with joy, skipped a beat as you heard that nickname that he now uses only in intimate moments like this, for he wanted to let you know how you had all the control of him. You opened your eyes, looking at those gleaming dark eyes that you loved so dearly.

Those tiny little moments made you think about how lucky you were.

Later at night, when the crackling sound of the fireplace was the only thing you were able to hear, you were laying in bed with Aelor under one arm and Lysara kissing and caressing your belly as she spoke to her new sibling growing inside of you. You looked at the scene, with tender eyes and a giant smile decorating your face.

"Sagon gīda, zaldrītsos," Be careful, little dragon, you told her gently, caressing her curly brown hair, "Your little brother or sister is too small yet, so you have to be careful, okay?"

"I hope is a girl…" Aelor whispered on your side. You turned to look at him, asking him to explain his answer, "maybe she'll be able to have a dragon if she's a girl like Lysa."

You pressed your lips in a thin line as you cupped your son's face and caressed his chubby cheeks. A soft kiss was left on his forehead as you shook your head,

"Listen to me, zoklītsos." Little wolf, you called him, "gender has nothing to do with it, and you will have a dragon."

"But-"

"In a few months we'll visit your grandmother, and once we're in the capital we'll go to the Dragon Keep, where you will choose a dragon to claim," you spoke softly, but sternly at the same time, "so, just be patient and wait."

"I'm sorry, muña," he said before he cuddles under your arm once again.

"No need to-"

Your words were interrupted as the door suddenly opened with a deafening sound as it smacked against the wall. Your first instinct was to grab Lysara and Aelor, and place them behind you as you grab your small dagger from under your pillow.

However, your body relaxed once you saw Rickon entering the room with a suspicious big smile and laughing as he covered his mouth. You took a deep breath and you hid the dagger under the pillow once again.

"Rickon, darling, you scared me," you said, scolding him but keeping your voice as soft as you could, "what is it that has you so cheerfully laughing, huh?"

"We have a surprise for Aelor!" He said happily.

"We?" You asked.

Cregan walked inside the room as soon as those words left your mouth, and your eyes widened as you looked at the half grown direwolf between his arms. It looked quite small in them.

Your husband had the same smile as the one his first child had, two pairs of eyes gleaming with excitement as they looked at your eldest son. Soon you realized what was going on, and a horror look was seen in your face as you grabbed Lysara and held her close to your body.

"Absolutely not!" You said, trying to grab Aelor too but he already stood up from the bed, "Aelor!" You scolded him.

"What is this?!" The small child asked as he caressed the soft fur of the wolf.

"Your new pet, my boy," Cregan said, kneeling so Aelor was at the same height as the animal.

"Cregan?" You asked, confused and astonished, "mind to explain what is the meaning of this?"

You stood up from the bed, your daughter hanging from your arms as you walked back, far from the animal that started to move its ears each time Aelor would touch its belly.

Cregan left the wolf on the floor and walked towards you, removing the girl from your arms and holding her in his instead.

"Be careful, my love," he warned you, "you cannot strain yourself, not with our little pup growing inside you."

"Cregan, what is this?" You asked again, yelping as the wolf started to howl.

He laughed softly, "my love, you ride a dragon, how can you be scared of a wolf?"

"I'm a Targaryen, we bond with our dragons, they would never harm us."

"Starks bond with direwolves, love…" he explained softly, "Look at them, they already love each other and they've just met."

You looked at your son as the wolf licked his cheek and he laughed gleefully. Rickon was looking at them with excitement, for now he had another thing in common with his little brother. Your heart lighted up after seeing Aelor smiling like that after days of only seeing saddened eyes on him. That mere thought softened your heart, and made you sigh.

"Cregan…"

"Listen, I will take care of everything, okay?" He said, grabbing your hand and kissing it gently, "And I assure you, my love, nothing will happen to you because I will always be here to protect you."

"Whose idea was to get this… thing?"

"Uh… mine," he muttered, smiling shyly, "I told you I had to do something about it, I can't bear to see my family being miserable."

Your haze softened at his words; you were Cregan's weakness but he was certainly yours too. The only one that can make you bend.

"Alright, he can keep his pet, but it will stay away from me," you warned, "I don't want that thing being close to me, I feel that it will chew my face off."

Cregan only laughed at your words before kissing your lips.

Aelor stood up from the floor and ran towards Cregan, hugging him tightly as he cheerfully yelled, "thank you, kepa! thank you!"

You would've looked at the tender scene being displayed in front of you, but your eyes were fixed on the animal sitting on the carpet. The wolf made eye contact with you, and tilted its head as it sighed. With your lips pressed in a thin line, you heard at your daughter saying,

"Can I have one too, kepa?"

With widened eyes you looked at your daughter, seeing how her eyes shone with the sight of the direwolf just a few meters away from you.

"Oh, Gods…" you muttered, caressing your belly.

You started to beg for the next one to claim a dragon instead of a frightening wolf.

#request #cregan stark fanfic #cregan stark x reader #cregan stark x you #cregan stark #cregan stark x y/n #cregan stark x targ!reader #cregan stark fluff #fluff #fanfic #hotd x reader #hotd x y/n #hotd x you #house stark #house targaryen #house of the dragon #targ!reader

2K notes · View notes