#X you beautiful bastard
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teehee I have a small thought (batfam related, yk that one where y/n gets killed)
imagine if y/n was brought back by the pit, but instead of being a "shell" in that hc u made, she becomes completely stoic, like just blurts out what she was feeling back when she was neglected with the most blank expression ever, I imagine it being more focused on bruce and Damian since yk..bruce was the shittiest parent ever, and Damian with his sparky ass insults.
YouâŚGod, damnit Anon. You summoned me and I suddenly have the motivation to write after reading your two requests.
I don't know if you wanted a one-shot or HC. So I just went with a HC because it's much easier to push out. Though if you want me to make a one-shot feel free to ask. I'll take 7 years to write it. Though at the end I did sort of a one-shot.
Damian should have known something was wrong when y/n didn't start thrashing around and attacking anything that moved after crawling out of the pit. She just stared at her hands, clenching them into firsts and then unclenching them slowly.
Maybe Damian was too relieved to see y/n breathing and moving to really care. Maybe he thought that she was just in shock. Coming back to life isn't always expected and it can take a real toll on someone.
Not to mention that y/n was, compared to her brothers, far weaker. Not just physically, but mentally as well. So it's not surprising that she was so docile, right? It's only a matter of time before that effect wears off and she'll be normal. Or something close to normal.
Okay, maybe deep down Damian knew that there was a chance that he wasn't getting y/n back. Everyone knew that there was no getting her back, but he was willing to take the risk. He came this far and it didn't take long for Bruce to pick up on what his youngest was doing.
Damian has his big sister back and he's not going to let her go again. It's only a matter of hours before Bruce comes breaking down the door to drag them back to Gotham. So Damian took the time to clean up y/n.
She was still in her funeral clothes for goodness sake. She reeked of death, but that didn't stop the boy from hugging her tightly.
While getting cleaned up, she doesn't say a thing. Or even make a lot of noise. It was almost like she was still dead.
By the time Bruce gets there, he's not surprised by Damian's actions. He thought of doing the same thing, but he couldn't bring himself to do such a thing. He couldn't disrespect her life by bringing her back. How could he dare think of that when she looked so at peace when she died.
He remembers how her body was tense before it became horrifyingly relaxed. There was a fear of death in those [eye color] eyes, he knows because he saw it. But it was so quick and fleeting that he could have missed it if he wasn't so close.
In a twisted way he wished y/n had clung on to him just like she did when she was a wide eyed little girl and cried. Cry that she didn't want to die. Cry that it was too early to leave now. Cry that she didn't want to leave them.
But all she did was give a crooked smile and mumble to herself as blood dribbled down her chin. She spoke incoherent things to herself. A name or two slipped from her cold lips, but they weren't ones of her family. From what he gathered it was just a close friend and her significant other's name. She died thinking of those who cared and loved her back. Not of the family that she couldn't stand to be around.
Even when her own adopted father held her dying from close, they were far from her line of thought.
So seeing y/n alive was gut reaching for Bruce. There was no pain, anger, sadness, or joy on her face. She was just there. Staring at him with an uncomfortable indifference.
Damian was ready to start a fight with Bruce. Not a physical one, but he would cross that line if he needed to. He was ready to defend himself in what he thought was best for y/n. Yet Bruce lets out a quiet sigh and tells that it's time to come home. How anticlimactic.
The plane ride back to Gotham is long and quiet. It also felt cramped by how close Damian was to y/n and unwilling to give her too much space.
By the time they made it back to the manor, everyone was caught up to date. The development is surprising to some while others not so much.
Everyone is in the bat cave. Gathered around to see y/n back from the dead. The silence is deafening as they wait for something. Just something from her, but she walked past them all. Out of the cave and to where her room was. Nothing was out of place in her room, though it was mostly empty after she had moved out a few years ago. She laid on her bed and slept as if nothing was amiss.
That's where the family infighting starts. Question of was this the right thing. What are going to do now? Why the hell did you think this was a good idea? There's going to be a lot of hash words being shared, but at the end of the day what was done was done and they had y/n back. They weren't going to mess up the second time.
Did they really get a second chance because it didn't feel like it. A week would pass and y/n has yet to come out of her room. She's alive and breathing because the trays of food left outside her door are always empty.
The camera's installed while she slept showed that she was doing nothing. All she did was lay in bed. She'd get up to use her private bathroom, but other than that there wasn't much. She was rotting away alone in her room.
This rang familiar bells in Alfred, Bruce, and Tim's head. y/n wasn't prone to long depressive episodes, so this could be something similar. The lack of socializing and excessive oversleeping was typically a big red sign for them to do something. In the past they would not force, but push her into doing social things or at least being out of her room.
They could approach this situation the same way, but they'd have to be extra careful. This was a unique and tricky situation to be in. It was also odd if not worrying that she hasn't succumbed to lazarus fever.
They could try to bribe y/n out of her room with activities that have to do with her old hobbies.
"Alfred is baking today, he said might need some help."
"I just stole the keys to the batmobile, you wanna take it for a ride?"
"Hey, do you want toâŚum, play a video game with me. I remember we used to play Hellflight Deadcraze a lot. They came out with the 3rd game. I just bought it today, so...Yeah."
Though the likelihood of that working is low. If they're really desperate to interact with her, they might as well just bust down her door.
At some point all the poking and prodding is going to irritate y/n. Whoever popped her bubble is going to be on the receiving end of pent up emotions.
I don't believe y/n would ever intentionally say how much the family's treatment harmed her. Again it would bubble up and fester for a while before she explodes. The thing about y/n is that she has an inferiority complex. In her life she aimed to please and help.
She understands that Gotham is dangerous. A lot of people need help and she couldn't bring herself to pull them away from their job. To her it would be like pulling a fireman away from a fire to chat as people burned alive. Even if the fire was out the fireman would be tired and need to rest, so she couldn't just pull them wherever she wanted to go. She shouldn't pester them.
In y/n's eyes, she was never worthy of being a hero because she wasn't good enough. She was never worthy of being with the family because she wasn't helping enough. She should do this to prove her worth. She's not worthless because she can do this for you and this as well!
She embodies inferiority and self-loathing. Someone that feels insignificant and has the strong urge to do more. She has- or had in this situation, hope. Hope that she'll be worthy of love. Love, affection, praise is what drives her and will seek it out if she's desperate. If she does ask or seek it out she'll be feeling guilty since she didn't really do anything to get it. In her mind she was being greedy and she couldn't help herself.
Bonus
"Just stop. Leave me alone." Her voice was almost pleading as she gripped the wrapped gift box. The gift was a symbol of peace, almost a treaty. That's all it was supposed to be, but she acts as if she had been spat in the eye.
Seeing that Bruce wasn't listening to her, she dug her nails into the gift. Almost tearing into the [favorite color] wrapped paper. He stood before her like an unmoving entity. The longer he stood by the more she wanted to snap into herself. She didn't want to slowly curl into a ball. She wanted to snap herself together with a violent and almost sickening crack. This just wasn't fair.
Clenching her jaw, her voice became much colder. It wasn't as cold as the middle of winter, yet it still had a chill to it.
"I thought you'd get it that I didn't want this. I shut you out, but you- all of you just keep buzzing. None of you are getting the hint. You just keep coming back louder than before. Why can't you let me be alone? Why can't you act overworked and tired? Why can't you just leave things the way they were?"
Bruce was conflicted upon hearing her say that and would try to claim that everything is going to come around. Everything always comes around in the end and this wouldn't be any different. They are going to get through this as a family.
y/n's frown would deepen and her eyes would furrow at his attempt at comfort. She looks as if she just ate something that was expired, leaving her mouth with nothing but a nasty sour taste.
"Because we're family." She whispered to herself before almost grimacing at the words. Her voice became sharp and cold as a blade, "I don't understand why you'd suggest that I was still a part of the family. I don't think I've been family for a good while now."
She clicked her tongue as she dropped the gift box while looking Bruce in the eyes. "Come on, you can't say you cared about me after I stopped being useful. When did you realize that I wasn't anything special? Was it when I kept crying about punching villains or when I was too slow to teach."
Seeing the conflicted look in his blue eyes confused her. Why would the truth conflict someone unless it was pity. Even after all this she's just a pitiful little crybaby to him. One good hit and she's out wailing on the floor for someone to kiss her boo-boo away.
Somehow this hurt her. Her pounding heart felt like it was twisting on itself. She wanted to cry and laugh at how she thought things couldn't get any worse. Then somehow it did. The universe, the world, the Wayne had proved her wrong yet again. It was as funny as it was sad.
She could have broken down there, but she needed to hear it. She had to hear the truth, so she kept twisting her heart with her own hands. It didn't matter how much it hurt.
"Or maybe you were in denial? You had wasted a lot of time and resources on a dud. Then Damian threw cold water on you and left you shivering, right? I'm just leeching off of you and the others. ThenâŚThen you choose them over me. I was an afterthought, or is that being too generous? Did I ever circulate in your mind before this?"
Her voice was becoming shrill and gruff like she was on the verge of tears. "When did you realize that I was dead weight, Batman? Did I make Bruce Wayne look more caring to the people when I talk about how much I love my family? Did my life serve any use or was I always just a speck of dirt on your shoes?"
Those words were far from the truth, yet with how she spoke Bruce knew that she believed in all that she was saying. Each and every word was true to her. Honestly he didn't know what to say. This was all too much. Having to hear your own child degrade themselves with such honesty was heartbreaking.
Taking his silence as a sort of confirmation, y/n ordered him to leave and of course he did. He'd fix this somehow. He just needed time. They needed time.
I cut off the ending because I didn't want to write too much. Anyway I hope you enjoyed it. I haven't proofread this, Google Doc says there aren't any errors (probably a lie), and it's 3 in the morning. Goodnight.
#batfamily x batsis#batfamily x reader#batsis reader#yandere batfam#God damn you anon#you beautiful bastard#I'll clean this up later when I sleep#x reader#x batsis reader
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I was having a lovely conversation with my mom today at the dinner table while eating tacos. We were talking about fictional and celebrity hunks. She listed Chris Evans, Thor and Chris Pratt. I listed Harrison Ford/ Han Solo and Bucky Barnes.
âWho else do you find as a hunk?â My beloved mami (mom for Spanish, yes I still call her mami, let me act like a kid around her đ) asked.
I snapped my fingers and pointed to nothing but air âHunter from The Bad Batch.â
My amazing Mami looked at me and said âThatâs a cartoon characterâ She gave me a look and said âthatâsâŚweird.â
I then showed her a picture of Hunter (even though she has seen him before). She then said âHe looks like Rambo.â
My somewhat uncultured ass looked up Rambo.
Oh my gosh
Oh my gosh
Holy smokes-
MY MOTHER, MY AMAZING MAMI, WAS NOT LYING
Conversation with a friend of mine after looking up Rambo
RAMBO IS LITERALLY HUNTER BUT FROM THE 80S WITH A PEW PEW AND SWEATY ASS ABS AND SHOULDERS ANS BICEPS
Hunter, baby, honey, sweetheart, cream to my coffee, amor, mi corazĂłn, please, take off your shirt and be Space Rambo. Iâll be your little housewife. I cook, clean, and Iâm great with kids. Call me at 1-800-NEED-A-MAN
#star wars#holy cow#holy smokes#the bad batch x reader#the bad batch#bad batch hunter#hunter the bad batch#rambo#sylvester stallone#80s men#dilf fan club#PLEASE LET ME BRING MY MAN#OH MY GOSH LOOK AT THOSE BEAUTIFUL ABS#FOAMING AT THE MOUTH#PLEASE ILL BE A GOOD GIRL#ONE CHANCE#thank you to my mom for opening my eyes#the bad batch star wars#tbb hunter x reader#Star wars you bastard for making hot men#hunter x reader#the bad batch wrecker#the bad batch echo#the bad batch tech#the bad batch Crosshair#love you mom đ#Sylvester Stallone you are one gorgeous bastard
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mini human error doodle (lazy)
holy crab I forgot tumblr existed sorry chat I will be more active! I'm also looking for mutuals,, and friends!!
#errink#error sans#error x ink#errorink#ink sans#undertale au fanart#undertale#hooked nose error hueheuenesmma#ink you beautiful bastard#GAY#what if I draw them kissing
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Gatekeeper Gostoc up in Stormveil trying to beat his Godrick-dribbling record when suddenly the very stars drop from the sky and blows Limgrave a brand new hole:
youtube
#Radahn did gank me once or twice with the meteors but he's been bested#(not The Big Meteorâ˘ď¸ I managed to haul ass away from that one in time hehe)#(I was just too busy whaling away at him to notice that the small purple ones had started moving)#that beautiful singing going away forever was honestly kind of a bummer though :(#i'd heard rumours about the [redacted] boss that pops up in Redmane after you beat Radahn#but I was thankfully able to bust up [redacted x] before [redacted y] could even get on its feet#[redacted y] might be a bastard but its combat style is very polite and tactful to be honest#i used to find them impossible earlier on but perspective has since been gained from certain other bosses hn#otherwise i've just been running around Caelid trying to clock and clear out things i'd missed#both rancid tree chunks (whatever their name was): check#3 dragons (Rotting One - Big Old One w/babies and Overleveled One on the bridge to Beast Sanctum that was probably meant for later): check#i think the whole dragonbarrow place might've been intended for later judging by the rune-output but i mean#it was right there#also that big jar challenge up north is some bullshit wtf#some of those bastards can just flat out zap me to death from anywhere before I can even sneeze#ølden ring#tomorrow we're heading down The Holeâ˘ď¸
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đđĄđ đđŤđŤđđ§đ đđŚđđ§đ
pairing: gojo x fem!reader
summary: gojo satoru was the most notorious man across the land. he was the strongest soldier the north had ever produced, the most brilliant of minds, and somebody who slept his way through the noble ranks. his parents set him up in a marriage agreement with you, hoping that a tie with a ring would help save his image. you know gojo never wanted this, and you try to act as if that was normal. but soon, without you or even him realizing it, he comes to the conclusion that while he never wanted this marriage - he's beginning to want you.
warnings: 18+ mdni: arranged marriage, angst, slight no comfort, gojo is emotionally constipated for a bit, heavy making out, eating out (fem! receiving), fingering, (naoya)
word count: 19.7k (sorry)
note: inspired by this drabble. i'm so happy this behemoth of a fic is done!! art credit: _3aem
jjk masterlist + series masterlist
Gojo Satoru was the most powerful man alive.Â
Not only physically, though some people chalked him up to being half god, but his name held even more control. The Gojo family of the North was as old as the gods themselves, and theyâve been making sure itâs been kept that way. They owned so much land that you would walk to the ends of the earth and circle back around and it would probably still be theirs. They had armies of unfathomable sizes under their command, so much riches that they could probably buy an entire nation and still have plenty to spend.Â
His presence was just as large as his name created him to be. Any ball he went to, all eyes would fall on him. On the battlefield, men feared to see the flash of white hair, knowing that his strength was unbridled.Â
And his physical beauty? Most people assumed he was blessed by the gods himself. Gojo had a certain look that just made your knees weak, your heart palpitate, and your cheeks heated up. The handful of times youâve seen him from afar youâve been able to understand why all the girls (and some of the guys) yearned for his attention. His eyes were a piercing blue as if somebody had held a mirror to the sky when creating them. His hair had grown whiter with the years, as white as the snow that sunk deep into the grounds of the north. Gojo had the build of a soldier, and he towered over most people. His bulky build was intimidating, but you heard some girls whisper behind their hands about how he must look underneath all those ceremonial garments.Â
The lord of the North was power itself.Â
Which would make you, by martial association, the North's most powerful lady.
And for somebody who grew up with the same respect as a stable boy, it was all too much too soon.Â
And yes, while on paper you still had your father's last name and legacy tied to it, you werenât really a daughter to your parents. Your mother, though you had to call her by her name whenever you werenât in public, seeing how she wasnât really your mother, made sure it was kept that way. Your other three half-sisters should have been in your spot, either one of them more true to the family name than you. But seeing how theyâre already married, you were the final resort.Â
Gojo Satoru, though youâve seen him countless times (something common because of how close in ranks your families were), had only acknowledged you a couple of times. You didnât care much, never did, because that's what you were used to. After all, it was a common fact that you were what they nicknamed âthe bastard daughterâ of the West.
But it didnât seem to matter much to his parents, as they offered their son up to you in a marriage arrangement.Â
And who were you to turn that down?Â
They, his parents, assured you that their son was looking forward to this union. He was the one to offer it, they said, which you were skeptical of but werenât stupid enough to question. You knew how much Gojo Satoru was tarnishing their reputation with his promiscuous ways, but as long as he was okay with this arrangement you couldnât find any part of you that would disagree with it.Â
After all, you knew that this marriage wasnât out of love, fascination, or even a mutual understanding, but because of the strength your own family (more so your father) held, and how you were the only feasible option for a bride.Â
So, after weeks of rocking back and forth on agreements, paperwork, dress rehearsals, and grueling dancing lessons (and still no sight of the man himself), you found yourself standing at the end of the aisle, your arm linked around your fathers as a large smile plasters itself on your face.Â
Ever since you were young you had convinced yourself that the only man who would want to taint his name enough to marry you would have to be either a troll or an ogre, so that fact that your future spouse was human was better than anything you could have asked for.Â
And youâre not daft. As your heart hammered loudly against the limited space of your chest, waiting for your cue to start walking, you reminded yourself that this was just a mutual agreement. Itâs hard for people at your level to marry for love, but even then, you canât help but hope that you can make a decent friendship out of this.Â
You glanced at your father next to you, catching his eyes as he nodded once, staring ahead of him into the small crowd of just your two families, and patted your arm.Â
You still remember the music playing, the instruments harmonizing together as you took a tentative step forward, feeling warm under the eyes of people you didnât know, but you kept reminding yourself that this was the best thing that couldâve happened to you. Either you died as an old maid in the little room you had near the kitchens at your old home or got married to some warlord who wanted an entire village as family.Â
The orchids that surrounded the venue still infiltrate your nose as you think about it, the way the silk of your dress felt against your skin that had been scrubbed raw earlier that morning.Â
And there you saw him, standing at the end of the aisle. At that moment you realized how much of a mistake this was,
Because the man that stood there, the man who you were about to marry, seemed like heâd rather be dead than be your husband.Â
â
You blink out of your trance, sitting up straighter in your seat as you mindlessly stop tearing up pieces of your bread, rubbing your fingers together to get rid of the remnants of flour.Â
The dining hall was huge, far bigger than the one back home. Though you rarely ate there, you could still remember it, and it definitely wasnât as big as this. Yet, despite its size, you felt like you were a little grain of rice in its vastness.Â
The Gojo estate itself was humongous. His parents resided in a smaller house near the ocean now that youâve moved in, but you would bet that the word humble they used to describe it was anything but humbling. Youâve been here for weeks and yet you feel like youâve only discovered half of what this place has to offer.
There were guards at every corner, but at this point, youâre convinced they're just for decoration. If your husband is as decorated a warrior as they say he is, he could protect this entire estate with no help necessary.Â
You stare at your plate, at the array of food prepared just for you, different sorts of cured meats, loaves of bread, cheeses, fruits, and juices from all over, and still, you feel no hunger.Â
Months ago youâd be ecstatic to see how much your life has changed. You get new clothes that fit you, food whenever you desire, people at your beck and call. Your room is no longer that cramped space youâd been given to hide you away from the rest of your family, but twice the size of your father's old bedroom. You wake up earlier and sleep later, do whatever you want, but none of it feels deserved.
The only thing you can bring yourself to think about is how the last time you saw your husband was the night of the wedding. The look on his face when you made your empty vows to one another, his faint lingering kiss on your cheek. You can blink your eyes and still see the way he left, his jaw clenched as he ignored the calls from his parents. How, even here, rumors seemed to follow you.Â
Safe to say, you spent your meals alone.Â
Not only that, but your rooms were entirely separate as well. You were told that you had to consummate the night of your marriage, but from what youâve heard, your husband sleeps in an entirely different wing of the estate, with walls and corridors between the two of you.Â
You tried taking your mind off of things, pretending as if this was normal.Â
Most days youâd walk around, trying to familiarize yourself with the layout of the grounds. Youâd walk the gardens a couple times each week, try to memorize the way back to different places, and stay in the library the other half of the time.Â
A part of you was happy to at least be away from that miserable home, but it felt like swapping one prison for a slightly better one. Your maids were kind, of course, but you didnât know anybody here. They treat you like a lady of noble ranking, as expected from being the wife of the Lord in the North, but youâd rather be given an apron and start working around instead of this mind-numbing boredom of just sitting around.Â
You stare at your plate, chewing on a grape slowly.Â
Looking up you see the sun filtering in through the large windows, illuminating the long table that sits like an empty grave. Clicking your tongue you pick up another grape, slumping in your seat as you look up.Â
This is just the way things will be.
â
âAlina?â
You call out from your vanity, staring at your maid as sheâs picking out different earrings for you to pick from for dinner.Â
Itâs a couple of days later, and still no word from Gojo. But that doesnât mean that you havenât stopped for a single second to not think about your supposed husband.Â
You try not to care, pretend that youâre lucky that heâs not bothering you or going out of his way to remind you of this unfortunate situation, but above anything you just feel alone.Â
The maid looks up, a curl falling from her tight bun as she smiles at you in the mirror.Â
âYes, my lady?â She stands up straighter, flattening out the wrinkles from her apron tied around her waist as she begins walking towards you with the jewelry.Â
âIs thisâŚis this normal?â You crane your neck around to look at the different pairs sheâs holding up, nudging your head to the red ones that shine bright, and watch as she sets them down on your desk, resting her hand on your hip as she stares at you quizzically.Â
âWhat do you mean?â She asks as you begin taking your earrings off, putting the new ones on yourself. In the beginning, she protested, saying that a woman of your caliber shouldnât have to do such measly tasks. But the more you protested, she eventually gave up.Â
âDo husbands and wives usually sleep separately?â you say, feeling your chest contract in embarrassment at the stupidness of your question.Â
You watch as she swallows thickly, avoiding eye contact as she sets on fixing some parts of your hair.Â
Staring patiently through the vanity mirror as you watch her work, Alina wets her lips, her eyes downcast as if not wanting to answer.Â
âWas there somebody else he preferred to marry?â You decide to ask, twisting that knife that you knew was lodged in her side, one that was stopping her from talking, and watch as her eyes widen slightly in shock.Â
âIf you donât answer Iâm just going to keep asking more uncomfortable questions,â you warn and Alina snorts softly, shoving your shoulder a little bit as you crack a smile.Â
She moves around, picking up a necklace, and begins clasping it behind your neck.Â
âIâŚI donât know. Heâs always been pretty secretive and,â she looks at you briefly, âSelective. I donât mean to speak ill of my lord but it would be stupid not to acknowledge his old ways. But we never heard of a specific girl.â
Alina places a gentle hand on your shoulder, a sad smile on her face.Â
âYouâre lucky my lady,â she says, her voice hushed, âMost wives donât have the freedom to say their husbands donât care what they do. Had you married that Zenin, youâd be pregnant by now.â
You shudder out a breath, nodding once more.Â
âIâll see you after dinner, my lady,â she says, moving out of the way as you stare quietly at the floor before leaving silently.Â
â-
Tonight for dinner the cooks made you a wide array of different dishes, all from the Northern shore. There are different types of fish, each cooked in various ways. It looks delectable, a feast fit for a king.Â
You feel awful, though, seeing that you canât eat any of it.Â
The last time you had fish your face swelled up and couldnât breathe properly, so that family physician told you to steer away from it. But youâre here now, and it somehow slipped your mind to ever mention this little fact to them, so youâre awkwardly poking around some of the vegetables under the fish, looking for something to eat.Â
You pile some potatoes and carrots on your plate, scraping off any bits of fish on them as you hold this wasnât your last meal.Â
The only sound that fills the room is your fork and knife sometimes hitting the porcelain plate, and you look up every now and then as you chew, looking at the paintings on the wall.Â
Youâre so focused on a portrait of an old man that you donât even notice the figure standing at the entrance of the dining hall, not until you hear a muted curse.Â
You look up instantly, your fork and knife dropping to the plate as you stare at the man in front of you, eyes wide at the sight of your husband.Â
He stands there, blinking slowly as you stare back.Â
You could swear time has never moved so slowly before.Â
You can hear him mutter a quiet shit under his breath, not knowing if he should make this worse by turning around and leaving or if he should join you.Â
Heâs wearing a simple tunic, his face a little flushed, hairline beaded with sweat. Did he just come out of training? He must often do that, you decide, seeing how he mustâve felt comfortable enough walking in here without any clothing of import.Â
His eyes seem to track your little movements; the way your chest rises and falls in a slow movement, the way your fingers have frozen in mid-air, lips slightly parting. Your eyes dart around the room, everybody seeming to have tensed up.
You open your mouth to say something, anything, but youâve never been so moved to silence. It seemed as if years of learned vocabulary slipped your mind within an instant, and no matter how hard you tried, nothing was coming back.
Gojo looks behind his shoulder, at the large double doors he entered through, deep in thought. This would be the first time the two of you had seen each other in weeks, and his tirade of avoiding you has come to an end. It looks like an entire battle is being fought in his mind, and you donât know what to do.
Suddenly, you watch as he shakes his head, deciding to give in and join you for dinner.Â
The seconds go by like hours as he walks up to the seat at the other end of the table, staring at his seat for a brief second before he pushes it out and sits there.Â
You donât know what to do.Â
Servants and maids quickly swarm the room, setting up his plate, cutlery, food, and drinks. It was all so hectic and rushed, but you were glad that it offered some sort of noise in the drowning silence.
A part of you wants to say something about the fish but you know this isnât the right time.Â
In the flurry of movements you allow yourself to discretely look at him a little better, seeing how the last time you saw him was so brief and hurried.Â
The man radiates a different sort of aura youâve never experienced before. While your father was one of the most powerful men in the West, Gojo was the strongest throughout the majority of the North and East. His frame took up the entire chair, his muscular shoulders and arms visible even through the loose fabric that was draped over him. You feel a little disappointed, knowing that if you were a different girl youâd probably be able to enjoy all of this.Â
You try to make yourself seem indifferent, moving some of the vegetables in your plate around, but secretly just trying to shovel them down as fast as humanly possible to get out of this thick atmosphere.Â
One of the men who was setting up some of the plates in front of Gojo takes notice of this, a smile overtaking his face as you briefly look up from your plate, startled to see the man walking closer to you.
âMy lady, Iâm so happy to see you enjoying our Northern delicacy!â He claps his hands together as you stare at him with wide eyes, your mouth still full of potatoes as you try chewing faster to get it all down before he gets closer to you.Â
His eyes wrinkle around the edges, his graying mustache trimmed ever so carefully, and you can tell heâs trying to loosen up the tension, but you stare in abject horror as he stands at your foot of the table.Â
âWould you like some more?â He motions to the fish that lay untouched in front of you, and you glance over to Gojo, hoping that maybe he is focused on his meal, only for your heart to sink at the fact that he is staring at you.Â
â...y-yes,â you croak out, wiping some of the carrot remnants from the corners of your lips as you give him a wobbly smile, âItâs alright, I can serve myself,â you exclaim, trying to thwart him off as he quickly waves this aside, shaking his head as he grabs the tray, beginning to portion some hefty pieces of fish onto your plate.
You donât have the heart to tell this jolly man that this amount of fish would kill you within an instant, or even that he was wasting this all on you, so you just sit there, giving him a tight-lipped smile as you try not to breathe it in too much.Â
âIs that enough, my lady?â He asks, setting the tray down as you look at your plate now full of different sorts of sea creatures you swallow slowly, looking back up at him as you give a wobbly smile.Â
âThis is great,â you muster up and watch as an even larger smile takes over his face, and you feel awful for it, âThank you so much,â you tell him, watching as he bows lowly, excusing himself as he, and the other servants, leave the room,
Leaving you and Gojo alone.Â
Youâre grateful that heâs already dug into his meal, not looking at a struggling you thatâs moving the fish around with your fork as you try to find the last bits of vegetables you had saved up for yourself.Â
The smell itself is enough to make your stomach turn, and you wince, reaching for your cup of wine to wash some of the nausea down.
âYou have very good wine,â you say suddenly, against your will, and have an out-of-body experience as you realize what you just did.Â
Gojo looks up from his plate, a little startled as he looks at you and the goblet in your hand, his white brows furrowed.Â
He nods once, not saying anything, and you feel the strange need to continue, somehow enjoying the feeling of stabbing yourself in the foot.
âOur wine back home tasted like cow piss,â your eyes widened at your slip of crass language, âEr - not piss, um, urineâŚ?â You wince even more, feeling as if a ghost with awful intentions had taken control over your body, âNot that Iâve had cow piss - urine!â You correct yourself, âBut I imagine that if I hadâŚthat, um, it would taste like o-our wine back home...â
Heâs staring at you, unblinking, and you smile awkwardly, raising the cup to him as a sort of cheers gesture.Â
You count twenty seconds of silence in your head as you set the cup down, playing with your fork as you glance back up at him. Gojo looks as if he is regretting his decision to stay, his fingers tapping on his knife in a hurried sort of way.Â
âI donât really like wine,â you continue, feeling like the only thing that could stop you now was if somebody were to bludgeon you to death, âI like juice more. Oh, well, but I guessâŚwine is juiceâŚ?â you mutter to yourself, contradicting your own words mid-sentence, âBack home we had this mulberry juice and it tasted nice. Kind of like your wine,â heâs not even looking at you and so your words die, quieting down as you sink back into your seat, hoping it could eat you entirely.Â
âDo you like wine?â You ask, tilting your head to the side, smiling faintly, awkwardly, âOr juice? Or⌠mulberriesâŚ?âÂ
He shakes his head, still not staring at you.Â
âDid you have a good-â
âI prefer eating in silence.â Gojo finally said, raising his head slightly as he stared directly at you, watching as your mouth clamped shut.Â
Your smile grows small, eyes falling to the table to hide the embarrassment in them. You give him a brief nod, mumbling a quiet apology under your breath as you begin moving some pieces of carrot around on your plate.Â
You can hear the clinking of his utensils against his plate, wishing you could somehow fit an entire fish down your esophagus to escape this moment.Â
You give it a couple of seconds, counting the groves in the wood of the table, and rise, stomach empty, heart churning as you finally excuse yourself.Â
It only takes you minutes to find your room, quicker than last night, and allow yourself to sink against your bed, rubbing your skin raw of the rouge Alina had applied an hour earlier.Â
â-
You donât tell anybody of the awful encounter with the man thatâs legally your husband, but youâre sure that those there to observe have already begun talking about it. You try to pretend nothing happened, but Alina could pick up on your closed-off demeanor that night, her hands gentler than usual when helping you take off your garments, her eyes filled with concern.Â
âHow was dinner, my lady?â She asked, staring at you as you waved off her worries, mustering up a lame excuse of a smile as you took off your silk shrug, avoiding any sort of eye contact as you slipped into your nightly garments.Â
âIt was good,â your words are void of emotion, âI had fish.âÂ
The following days are empty of any sight of your husband, but youâve grown to find that normal. It doesnât help that you canât stop thinking about how idiotic you acted, your big mouth never knowing when to stop, tossing and turning in your bed at your excuse of an interaction.Â
You continue with your old routine of walking around the estate, sometimes trying to track down Alina and your other maids, seeing if maybe they had some free time to spend with you. You know thereâs a town nearby, the girls often talk about how they go there sometimes at night, but youâre too afraid of going out alone, not used to that sort of thing.Â
Sometimes you sit out near the fields with a book, twisting the ring thatâs searing into your finger, mindlessly taking in the words on the page. Other days you walk around the gardens, picking out some flowers for the vase in your room. On the days when youâre feeling really adventurous, youâd go near the east wing, where youâve heard Gojoâs room is, and look at what sort of things lie there. But most times you chicken out, going back near your side just as quickly as you went.
You never see him at dinner again, knowing he wasnât about to put himself through that torture again, so you go back to eating in silence, sometimes pretending that the chairs were full of people and that you were in one of those balls you longed to go to as a kid.
They seem to keep bringing fish out for you, and itâs in so many days deep that youâre in this sort of limbo where you canât tell them youâre deathly allergic to it without feeling awful for all the work theyâve put in just to realize itâs gone to waste, so those nights, tonight, for example, you try finding as many vegetables as you can.Â
The roasted asparagus and beets are lovely, but there was only so much of it. And you find yourself getting a little bit sick of it too, your stomach-churning as you try to chug as much water as you can to get rid of the dirt after-taste that the beets have.
You thank the cooks and the servants as you leave for the night, your stomach still relatively empty as you get to your room, telling Alina to leave early for the night as you get ready for bed by yourself, wanting to be with yourself just for a little bit.Â
You lay on your bed, staring emptily at the ceiling, one hand on your stomach as if gurgling, still hungry for more. You try to sleep, trying to pretend like you were at your old home, those nights when this would be normal, but itâs no use. Youâve been too spoiled at the Gojo estate, and no matter how much you try to ignore the pang of hunger, it continues to bite you back.Â
So you find yourself twisting off of the warm comfort of your bed, sitting in silence as you contemplate what youâre about to do, but give in, lighting a candle as you slide into some slippers, leaving your room as you try to find your way down to the kitchens.Â
Thankfully, itâs well into the night when everybody is asleep, so this embarrassing walk of shame is only seen by the guards on duty. You walk down the testing staircase, careful to look around the corners for anybody there, but youâre alone.Â
You make your way to the kitchens, not hard to find seeing that theyâre near the dining hall, and you peep your head inside, a sigh of relief escaping your lips to find that itâs completely deserted.Â
At your old home, your room was behind the kitchens. You grew up in a small room, nearly the size of a broom cupboard, but you made do with what you had. One benefit of this situation was that you were raised by the smell of different sorts of food, by people who specialized in the art of cooking. You knew how to make meals that nobody else in your family could even imagine, which youâre grateful for right now as you fumble around the kitchen, trying to find where they put different ingredients.Â
You rummage through the cupboards, finding some eggs, bread, cheeses, and seasonings. Youâre able to find the pots and pans a few feet away and start assembling everything for a little omelet. Â
In your hurry of trying to be quiet and careful, you somehow manage to miss the large shadow figure thatâs standing near the doorway, observing you.Â
You crack the eggs into a bowl, beating them together with a fork you found, too tired to look for an actual whisk, turning around to throw the eggshells away when a cry of surprise escapes your lips.Â
âOh!â Your heart nearly falls right out of your ribcage, your hands flying to your chest as you find yourself staring at him, cheeks heating the way they seem to do whenever youâre looking at your husband.Â
His blue eyes are tracking you, watching what you do, brows furrowed slightly as the two of you canât do anything but stare at each other.Â
âIâŚâ You canât find anything to say, looking at him and then behind your shoulder, to the things you have found, and swallow thickly, wetting your lips as you straighten your back up, suddenly aware of just how flimsy and bedroom-worthy your outfit is.
You can only stare at the ways his arms are crossed over his chest, biceps bulging, and lips pressed into a thin line. It seems like he wasnât planning on seeing you here, yet another moment in which heâs probably going to regret somehow finding you in such a large estate.
âIâm making an omelet,â you finally say, your words falling like a whisper from your lips as you point to the eggshells now discarded in the trash, âI tried to be quietâŚâ you shake your head, eyes dropping from his heavy gaze for a second as you glance back up at him, lips upturned in an apologetic smile, â...sorry.âÂ
Gojo doesnât say much, youâve noticed that, but now youâre wondering if he has some sort of impediment that stops him from speaking to specific people.Â
His chest rises briefly as he inhales, his white hair a little tussled as if he were sleeping. It doesnât make sense why heâd be awoken, though. The kitchens are a far walk from the east wingâŚ?
âI wasnât asleep,â he finally says as if reading your mind, his voice deep as you feel it rattle your bones.
You nod once, not knowing what to do with the information.Â
âWellâŚum,â you fidget with your fingers, âgood, thatâs good.â You nod once, as if that was all you were going to say, and look at the slight wrinkles in his clothes, crossing your arms over your chest, feeling naked with the way youâre not wearing any undergarments under your little nightly dress.Â
âIâll call for a cook,â Gojo murmurs, looking you up and down one final time as he turns to leave, seemingly done with this conversation.Â
You sputter, shaking your head as you watch him turn to look at you through a confused stare.Â
âNo! SorryâŚno, no need,â you say quickly, taking one step forward as if to stop him, âPlease, itâs alright. I can cook myself,â you motion once more to your eggs and little station, noting the way heâs looking at you strangely, and so you feel the need to continue talking, perhaps one of your worst flaws.
Gojo looks at you finally, his fingers tapping on his arm.Â
You notice that heâs not wearing his wedding ring, your chest filling with a strange feeling as you try to hide your ring-clad finger. âDo you not like their cooking?â He asks, and it takes a second for you to blink out of your stupor, a weird sensation in your throat as you shake your head slowly, trying to pull your eyes away from his hand.Â
âI do,â you assure him, the words falling thickly from your lips, a lump in your chest, âI just feel bad waking them up right now,â you shrug as if you werenât feeling any of these strange emotions, âAnd as I said, I can cookâŚsoâŚâÂ
He nods, seemingly not believing you, not picking up on the storm that happening inside your head at the fact that heâs not wearing his wedding ring. You have to remind yourself that this isnât an actual marriage, the ring was only for show.Â
âDid you not eat dinner?â He continues, pressing, and your eyes widen slightly.Â
Youâve always been terrible at lying, never able to do so. Even when your father's wife continued to drill you on who ate the candies from a party when you were younger, showing her your chocolate-stained fingers that you had hidden behind your back, not even a minute into the interrogation.Â
âI did,â you say slowly, rubbing up and down your arms to warm them up from the chill breeze that seems to have picked up from the open windows, âThe beets and asparagus were very nice,â you agree, not knowing what else to say without blowing this weird secret youâve been holding onto.Â
His brow raised slightly, lips pursing slightly.Â
âAnd the fish?âÂ
You swallow once again, fidgeting with the fabric of your slip, your hands, your ring, and you donât notice the way his eyes fall to the gold on your finger, darting back to your face when he notices you staring at him.Â
âIâŚâ you feel your face heating up beyond human measures, laughing awkwardly as you tug at your necklace chain, wishing that you hadnât made that stupid decision to leave your comfortable bed, shouldâve listened to your gut instead of your stomach, cursing your past self for being so rash, âI, um, I canâtâŚeatâŚfish.âÂ
Gojoâs stoic face, so sure and confident, seems to falter for a brief second.
His arms tighten over his chest.Â
â...what?â He eventually asks after a couple of seconds of mind-bending silence, his head tipping in utter confusion as you sway from side to side on your feet, chewing your lips raw as you wish the ground could open up and never spit you back out.Â
âThe fish always looks great, donât get me wrong,â you say quickly as if thatâs going to do anything, âBut I canât eat fish. Otherwise Iâll swell right up and um, dieâŚprobably,â you wince at how bad you are at talking to people, your husband especially.
He lets out a little puff of air that sounds like a shocked scoff, eyes falling to the floor as he shakes his head, not understanding what you are saying.Â
âBut theyâve been cooking fish almostâŚfour times a week?âÂ
You nod, smiling awkwardly, looking at the painting of a fish on the wall as you look back at him.Â
âThey have,â you affirm, leaning against a counter as he stays frozen in his spot at the door.Â
âAnd youâŚyou canât have fish?â Gojo questions incredulously.Â
âIâll swell right up,â you repeat with a little smile that he doesnât mirror, clearly not a man of humor, and you drop your hands to your side, â...kind of like a pufferfish.â You add quietly, looking at the ground as you say it.Â
He coughs, his hand covering his mouth as you glance up at him, only to see him trying to hide the shocked laugh that had escaped him.
âWhy didnât you tell them?â He finally continues, and you hate the way all your hard work of just saying quiet isnât working and is in fact, coming back to bite you in the ass.Â
You shrug once more, shoving a grain of rice that was on the floor with the tip of your shoe.
âThe first time it happened I figured Iâd just tell them next time, but then that man kept on giving me more fish so I felt bad and I just never said anything.âÂ
Gojo stares at you, his eyes squinting together as if he were figuring out an enigma, a war strategy that even his best generals couldnât get a grasp of.Â
You look away, feeling like a fire was being lit under your skin.Â
âAlright,â you say, clapping your hands together as your stomach grumbles once again, reminding you that it is still in desperate need of food, âIâll be done soon. And Iâll clean up,â you promise, but you doubt he even cares as you begin to inch away from him.Â
You watch as a strand of hair falls into his face, watch as he goes to move, never breaking his eye contact with you, until he looks behind you at the eggs and bread, and then to the window behind you, the moon as bright as ever.
He nods a final time, looking over you a final time before he exits.Â
You make sure heâs far gone, letting out a heavy breath as you hold yourself up by the table, eyes wide at the fact that you had spoken more than two words to the man who seemed to despise your entire existence.Â
You go back to your eggs, whisking them in silence as your mind reels.Â
â
Gojo is there, for dinner, the following night.Â
You enter the dining room to see him at the end of the table, already eating, and glances up briefly when he sees you walk in.Â
Trying to hide the shock on your face you quickly look away, finding the way to your side of the table as you look around to see what theyâve given you tonight. A sigh of fleeting relief escapes your lips at the lack of fish, glad youâll be going to sleep full of food tonight.Â
You serve yourself, piling roasted meats and potatoes onto your plate as you fill your cup with water, not trusting wine after the last time you had it in his presence, and pretend that everything is normal as you pick up your knife and fork.Â
His words rang in your mind from the last time, the fact that he ate in silence, so you forced yourself to clam up, knowing that it was probably from the best and save you from any more mortification.Â
Your eyes fleet up now and then, grateful that heâs never looking up when you do, and give yourself some time to really take him in. Maybe in another universe where everything was normal, this couldâve just been another regular thing, and you try pretending that it is.
Heâs probably only here because of a timing issue, you tell yourself, maybe this was the only time in the middle of training, state affairs, or other things that he was able to have dinner tonight. Yes, yes, that has to be it.Â
You look back down at your plate, chewing as quietly as possible, missing the way he lifted his head to look up at you.Â
â
Dinner with Gojo becomes a strange weekly occurrence.
The two of you eat in silence a couple of times a week, and every time it happens youâre so sure itâs going to be the last.Â
On one of the nights you find yourself accompanied by the man you decide that the silence is more choking than whatever it is you find yourself saying.Â
âHave you been notified about thisâŚgathering in a couple of weeks?âÂ
This gathering was something you were told about that morning by Alina. One of the smaller families allied to the North, the Tokoshiâs, had invited you and your husband to join.Â
âYes,â Gojo says, and youâre a little surprised that he didnât just give you a faint nod, âIt shouldnât be too big.âÂ
He cuts off a piece of his lamb, dipping it in some of the gravy as he glances up at you.Â
You try to hide your excitement, not only from the fact that heâs spoken to you but also from the fact that this was an actual ball you would be able to go to. You knew that marrying him meant attending more of these sorts of events, but seeing how this was your first one, it was hard to not act a little giddy.Â
âYou have a lovely library,â you speak after carefully chewing through some of your food, your pointer finger resting on your fork as your legs crossed.Â
Gojo glances up at you, those mesmerizing blue eyes finding yours from across the long table.Â
âAt my old home,â you pause briefly, wondering how he feels when you refer to his estate as your other home, âI wasnât allowed to go into our library unless my tutors asked to have some of our sessions there. So I just wanted to say thank you for letting me - um, go there,â your words quiet down at the end, looking at the roasted pig in front of you momentarily as you wonder what you were even trying to get.Â
He takes a sip of his wine.Â
âThe grounds are as much mine as they are yours,â he says, but his words sound rehearsed as if he were told to say this.Â
âEven the east wing?âÂ
You regretted it the moment you asked it.Â
Shit.Â
Gojo opens his mouth and then shuts it. You chew on the inside of your cheek, waiting for him to speak, to say something, anything, but it reverts to that same silence that floods your senses and makes you aware of every other sound in the room.
Your burst of what you attempted at comedy seemed to keep coming back instantly in your face, a form of punishment for somebody who never knew how to make uncomfortable situations better.
Suddenly, all of your appetite is lost. Stupid, stupid, stupid, you can only chide yourself, the food in front of you, no matter how good it looked, felt like it would taste like ash on your tongue. You kept feeding this burning fire that was your marriage, expecting your hay-like words to act like water.
Thereâs a thick tension in the room, and you look around, blinking slowly as you fidget with your fingers.Â
You try to go back to eating.Â
You were wrong,
That initial silence was better.Â
â-
That night you found yourself back in the kitchens.Â
Youâre wiping at your cheeks, hoping that the therapeutic motions of baking can help alleviate some of your many turmoils.Â
When you were younger, you were used to silence. People normally avoided you, and those who didnât werenât ever your age. The cooks at your old estate were kind, but they were usually too busy to entertain a little girl. You would usually help the maids out with their washing and folding, rather doing something than nothing. You would listen in on their gossip and stories, always happy to be included.Â
You assumed that it would be the same here.Â
But the maids assured you that a lady of such high rank shouldnât be meddling in such lowly tasks, and the cooks here were cooking for such a larger number of people that you knew you couldnât bother them the way you used to.Â
So you find yourself with a lot to say but nobody to say it to. The jokes and ideas that pop into your head fall flat because the old ladies who helped clean the bedsheets and used to laugh hearing them are no longer here. In those moments youâre with Alina or your other maids are sparse, and so you sometimes imagine that if you speak more when Gojo is around, he might warm up to you.Â
You also had to remind yourself that your track record with men wasnât the best either. Those fleeting crushes on some of the other boys who youâd see at balls always ended with them scurrying away from you as if you were the plague. The only other marriage offer youâd gotten was from a man who had struggled with finding a woman who could keep up with his awful ways. So the fact that Gojo Satoru, the most well-known man in the realm, didnât want much to do with you wasnât shocking.Â
And Alina was right. A lot of wives arenât as lucky to say their husbands donât care, but you wondered how it wouldâve been if he did. You exclaimed to her a couple of nights ago that you shouldâve just married Naoya, but deep inside you knew thatâs not what you wanted. A part of you knew ever since you agreed to this arrangement that you wouldnât be getting an actual husband out of it.Â
You sniffle, your eyes blurry. You donât like crying in front of people, and so you allow yourself to do so in the pale moonlight of the kitchen, the only sound other than your ragged breathing being the repeated sound of flour falling softly in your mixing bowl.Â
Baking was something that nobody ever could judge you about. You were good at it, and you knew you could do it with no error. Your cakes and pastries always turned out well, save for the minor problems you ran into as a kid, but you sometimes act like youâre baking for a group of people, about to take it out to see a sea of smiling faces who are happy to see you and your deserts.
âI thought you only cooked when they served fish for dinner.âÂ
A voice, one thatâs seared into your memory, says from behind you.Â
It takes everything in you not to jump from surprise, and it takes even more willpower not to turn around.Â
You quickly wipe at your cheeks, breathing in to make sure your voice wonât come out in bits and pieces. You keep your back to your husband, continuing to sift your flour in the bowl, a continual motion like waves hitting against the dock.
âIâm baking,â you specify, cringing at the way you sound like youâre fighting a nasty cold.Â
Gojo doesnât say anything for a beat and does nothing to move. Youâre glad he doesnât, too scared that if he saw your puffy eyes or your tear-stained cheeks heâd begin to think that you have no backbone at all. It felt almost pathetic to have the world's strongest warrior see you recover from crying alone.Â
He hums in the back of his throat at your words, and you wonder what he looks like right now.Â
âI doubt these walls have seen a lady of such high rank before,â he comments, and you look up briefly from the mountain of white building up in the bowl, âThey must whisper to themselves once you leave.âÂ
You let out a little puff of air, something resembling a soulless laugh.Â
âEveryone whispers to themselves after I leave,â you say, reaching for a whisk, âIâve heard more whispers than my own name.âÂ
He doesnât say anything for a moment, and you hope he doesnât notice the way you quickly try to wipe at the corners of your eyes.
âYou come down here a lot,â itâs posed as a question, but Gojo says it like a statement. He must have eyes everywhere, reporting to him what youâre doing. You wouldnât be shocked, but you just nod, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you begin to whisk your dry ingredients together.Â
âI hope itâs okay,â you throw in a pinch of salt as you mix, âI like the kitchen.âÂ
He let out a little breath as if he was about to chuckle, but then he got confused. You decide to spare him the endless questions that must be going on in his head, wondering why somebody in your position would prefer the kitchens rather than anywhere else.Â
âMy bedroom used to be behind a kitchen. Iâd have to go through the pantry just to reach it,â you turn briefly to grab your bowl with the wet ingredients, pouring it slowly into your flour and sugar mixture, mixing it in slowly and carefully.Â
âMy fatherâs wife wanted me out of sight. That estate had never used one of its actual bedrooms to sleep the daughter of a whore,â you can hear him inhale sharply, âI woke up to the sounds of people shouting for different ingredients, to pots and pans clanging against each other. I learned how to cook and bake when I was young, and I usually helped them cook the food my family would eat for dinner.âÂ
When your batter is all mixed through you go to find the pan you have buttered and dusted with sugar, pouring it in as you wipe off the side of the bowl that had some remnants of batter dripping from it.
âThey never asked me to, but I liked it. I liked feeling useful,â you peek over to your side, seeing him leaning against the wall adjacent to you, silent as a mouse.Â
You walk over to the other side of the kitchen with your pan, careful with the lid to the brick oven, heated with the fire you had lit an hour ago, and slide your cake pan into it, closing it shut as you stand up straight.Â
Finally, you look over at him.Â
His eyes rake over your face, lingering on the circles underneath your eyes, the redness that stained the whites of them. Heâs clad in the simple tunic and breeches he had worn to dinner hours ago, his large shoulders leaning on the wall as his arms lay crossed over his chest.Â
âI wonât go to the east wing,â you say in a whisper, your voice quiet but heavy as it falls from your lips as a promise, trying to muster up a smile but it comes out wobbly, âI was just trying to make you laugh.âÂ
His lips looked pinker than usual as if he had been chewing on them, something you often did when you were deep in thought. His white hair had been messily pushed back as if his fingers had been combing through them continuously.Â
âThese grounds are yours,â Gojo says, his words thick from his throat. His exhale and inhale mirror the way you breathe, your two chests rising as though living with the same lungs.
You shrug, a melancholy look on your face as you shake your head.Â
âMaybe if I was your wife,â your words are said without any malice, âBut Iâm just another person who sleeps here.âÂ
Gojo tilts his head slightly as if your statement had somehow wrenched itself into his mind, weighing it down. Even in the limited light, you could see the way he looked at you, an unreadable expression on his face.
âIâm sorry about all of this. I know I took away your chance to marry somebody you actually wanted, but my father told me you were okay with the arrangement. I wouldnât have agreed to it otherwise,â you twist your wedding ring around your finger mindlessly, a little habit youâve grown over the weeks here, âI never wanted to be selfish, and I truthfully never wanted a husband. I just wanted a friend.â
â
Ever since that night, you eat your meals in your room.Â
Alina protested, saying itâs not right to eat alone, but you told her not to think about it, saying how you liked the silence.Â
You mustered up the courage to ask some of the coachmen to take you to the nearby town, starting by looking around at the little shops, keeping a hood over your head in case somebody saw a new stranger.
Sometimes youâd go inside the shops, finding little trinkets that you thought your maids might like, or ornaments that might help fill up the empty spots around your room. Youâve never been able to decorate before with how small your old room was, so you decided to take advantage of its space.
When youâre walking around you sometimes see Gojo, either in the training yard or walking around with one of his advisors. There have been moments when the two of you catch each other's stares from across the room, but youâre always the first to look away, making sure youâre going in a different direction than him.Â
You knew that youâd have to talk to him eventually, especially with the gathering that was coming up at the Tokoshi manor, but each night you pretended it was another day away, instead of one day closer.Â
Your maids came bustling in and out of your room more often than usual with preparations for the night that was closing in, shoving you into different dresses, not satisfied until they found the right one.
Alina noticed your shift in demeanor, never picking and prodding at it, but silently observing. You could tell she knew something was wrong, but you didnât know how to put exactly what you were feeling in words.Â
It didnât help that the closer you got to the night of the event Gojo seemed to be everywhere you were. The gardens, the library, the field, the stables. He probably just had business to attend to, but it didnât help that whenever he saw you it looked like he wanted to say something. It also didnât help that youâd scurry away when you saw him open his mouth.Â
The weeks turned into days, the days into a day, and that day into hours and you found yourself perched uncomfortably on a chair as three different women attended to your face, hair, and accessories.Â
You watch them work silently, taking in all the jewelry and makeup that youâve been looking forward to wearing. Itâs nothing too drastic, but thatÂ
girl who longed to wear pretty things inside of you is gleaming right now.Â
ââŚLord Gojo requested for her to wear another pair of earrings,â one of your maids says, looking at the earrings Alina had picked out for you.Â
Your ears perk up at the mention of his name, watching Alina as she perks an eyebrow up.Â
âWhen did he request that?âÂ
The older lady looks at you in the mirror and then at Alina.Â
âA couple of nights ago,â she shows Alina another pair, a sapphire one that seems to gleam brightly, âhe dropped them off when she wasâŚawayâŚâ the maid trails off, noticing the fact that you were eavesdropping.
Your eyes dart away as if that would help, but she quickly changes the topic, and you huff in annoyance as Alina sends you a knowing look. Â
âYour husband is a strange man,â Alina mutters in your ear as you giggle quietly, rolling your eyes as she playfully shoves your shoulder.Â
You donât say anything in retaliation, and sit back as you put in your new earrings, grateful that they still complimented the color of your dress, and try to pretend you are going down for dinner rather than a gathering with people you didnât know.Â
Youâve been learning this entire week how to properly hold a spoon and fork, and how to cut your food appropriately. Youâve been taking dancing lessons, discovered how to properly greet people, and even learned how to gracefully enter and exit a horse-drawn carriage. All things you shouldâve probably learned earlier, but were never able to.Â
Alina helps you out of the chair when they are all done, giving you a second to look into the mirror. The dress they had wrangled you into was beautiful, your hair done in the way you liked. You thanked them all, expressing your endless gratitude for their hard work.Â
You take a deep breath as you exit the room and go out into the hall, leading yourself down the stairs and through multiple corridors, trying to calm down your palpitating heart.Â
It takes a few minutes but you find yourself at the front of the manor, standing alone and looking around, trying to see if you were at the wrong place. But in the distance, you can see the coachmen and the carriage, the door shut, still waiting for you.Â
You take a tentative step forward, nearing the entranceway that leads outside, but feel a soft touch hovering above your elbow.Â
Itâs strange how he usually finds you before you find him, but as somebody whoâs trained to know and find things before others do, you suppose it makes sense. You glance to your side, already expecting to see those cerulean eyes as you look up.Â
Gojo looks good, somehow better than usual.Â
Heâs clad in dark blue garments, intricate with Northern design, and your eyes look up and down his entire body. His usual muscular build seems to be outlined by the stretch of his overcoat, the way the fabric is sitting snugly over his chest.Â
He seems to be doing the same, though. You can feel his gaze drop to your dress, to the way your lips are a little redder than usual, your hair done in a way that suits your face. His eyes linger on your ears, and thereâs a small, barely noticeable tug to the corners of his lips.Â
âReady?â Gojo asks, the first time heâs spoken in a couple of weeks, and you hum.Â
He takes his hand away from your elbow as he rests it on the small of your back, and you feel heat travel from his fingertips through the fabric, through your corset, your undergarments, and straight to your skin.Â
They bring the carriage out a little closer, a coachman opening the door for you. You brace yourself, heaving your dress upwards as you go to grasp the rail on the side.
But Gojo moves swiftly, offering you his glove-clad hand as you look over at him in surprise, taking it after a moment of hesitation, and haul yourself inside.Â
Itâs far bigger than the one you usually take to town, and you settle for a corner on the left-hand side near the window. The walls of the carriage are lined with this sort of fabric that feels like itâs lighter than a cloud, colored the traditional blue of the Gojo family. Youâd guess it could fit at least an entire family comfortably, so youâre not too worried about the underskirt of your dress taking up too much space.
You watch Gojo follow you in. He looks around, having to duck his head (and a lot of his back) as he sits in front of you, pushing the strands of hair that had fallen into his face.
The two of you sit in awkward silence, your gaze settled on the door that they shut after Gojo entered, and your eyes quickly fall to your hands resting in your lap, neatly folded.
The carriage starts a little bit later, the wheels humming to life as the coachmen yip at the horses to start. The sudden rocking movement that youâve become familiar with sways you side to side, and suddenly you're totally aware of the fact that youâre alone in a limited space with the man youâve been avoiding for the better half of two weeks.Â
You can feel his stare boring into the side of your head, can hear the way his breathing is coming out strangely as if he wanted to talk, but kept stopping himself off before he could say a word.Â
âDid you like the earrings?â Gojo finally asks, and you glance up, eyes narrowing for a second in confusion as realization suddenly comes rushing in.Â
âHm? O-oh, yes!â You quickly stutter out, your hands flying to your ears as if you forgot they were there, âYes, thank you. They were beautiful. They kind of looked like the inside of a belly button,â you say.
Your husband blinks, brows furrowed slightly as you think about what you had just said, eyes wide in shock. Â
âErâŚwell, gods, no, not bellybuttons,â your head falls to your hands as you shake your head profusely, âSorry, they donât look like belly buttons-âÂ
But you stop when you hear a small laugh from him, quiet as he looks away for a second, a tiny slightly visible grin on his face as he looks back at you.Â
âDid you know that sometimes,â his eyes are a little upturned as if he fighting back an actual smile, âI make a bet with myself about what youâre going to say?âÂ
You smile slightly, your head cocking to the side.Â
âHave you ever won?âÂ
Gojo chuckles, and your eyes suddenly fall to his hand, at the way heâs fidgeting with his ring, his wedding ring, the same way you seem to do whenever youâre thinking about everything and anything all at once.Â
âNot once.âÂ
You grin, and though you still feel this heavy weight of unspoken things resting in the middle of you two, you decide not to acknowledge it at the moment. Things unsaid, unheard, weaved through the air, tying you and him together like a tapestry.Â
You fidget with your skirt, looking out the window at the moving scenery.Â
Gojo breathes deeply through his nose, his pointed finger tapping on his thigh.Â
âIâve been meaning to talk to you,â he finally says, and your eyes dart away from the trees and the sky to look over at him.Â
His bottom lip is caught underneath his teeth, his blue eyes shining with a different hue. He takes up a lot of room with just his size alone, but it looks like heâs trying to make himself seem less intimidating, less of a warrior, and more of aâŚperson.
You donât say anything, opting to stay quiet to see what it is that he is trying to formulate into words.Â
âThat night,â Gojo twists his ring back and forth with his thumb, âIâŚâ Itâs weird to see somebody so sure of themself struggle to speak, and your brows crease in the middle, not knowing what it was he was trying to get at.Â
âI wanted to tell you that you too had a right to a good husband. Somebody who didn't rush you into a marriage because of his own mistakesâŚsomebody you wanted.â
Where is he going with this?
You suddenly feel your throat dry up, swallowing thickly as Gojo looks out the window momentarily before looking back at you.Â
âMy parents never told me who Iâd be marrying,â Gojo explains, his voice hoarse, âI figured out the day of the wedding,â he twisted his wedding ring, looking at the way it shined, âAnd I wanted to hate you,âÂ
His words punch you square in the gut, but you can only bring yourself to keep on looking at him.
âI wanted to hate you so much because it would be easier to act like this wasnât my fault if I couldâŚbut,â he sighs, his chest rising and falling, âI donât think itâs possible to hate you.âÂ
Your lip trembles slgihtly, a sheen over your eyes. What is he doing?
âIâve been raised in a way most people our age arenât. My parents wanted me to be the strongest so was put into training since I was four, and I think this entire time Iâve been trying to approach you like aâŚmilitary strategy. You were this map in my head that no matter how I approached it nothing made sense. But that night, in the kitchen, everything finally did.âÂ
Your eyes flitter downwards so that he couldnât see the waver in them
âYou didnât deserve how you were treated in your old life, nor this new one,â his hand covers his chest, and you feel lightheaded, âAnd I promise to you Iâll do everything in my power to make this one better. If you donât want me as a husband, than as a friend.
âIâd like to be your friend, if youâd allow me,â he whispers thickly, his voice heavy. He fidgets with his fingers, moving them together and back out again, and you notice how he does this a lot whenever youâre near.
Your heart is beating so quickly that you feel like it's going to stop, and your mind is working so hectically that you donât know what to think. This is the same man who looked at you as if you had torn down the moon and stars when he saw you the first time, the man who never seemed to be that interested in what it is you had to say. The very same person who wouldâve rather married a broomstick than you.Â
âŚright?Â
And yet heâs here, asking to be your friend. Something that nobody has ever asked before, something that people wouldnât ever dare to murmur out loud to you. He had no beneficial gain from doing this, no ally that he would please if he offered to be your friend.
Your heart twists because why does he look like he cares about what you say? His eyes are creased slightly around the edges, his lips pressed together as if he were preparing for whatever outcome it was to what you said.
Nobody has ever told you those things, the things that made years of pain and hurt strummed into one beat that your heart never wanted to drum to. This man, your husband, Gojo, was supposed to be another cog in that old machine, one that hummed and spurred like it was about to eat you alive.Â
But the more you look at him, the more you let your unspoken words speak in silence for you, you realise that he isnât lying.
You open your mouth to speak but are cut off when the carriage comes to a sudden halt.Â
The two of you look at each other and then to the door, watching as it opens up, greeted to the sight of a large manor with multiple people walking in hand in hand. You swallow your bile, not knowing what to say, deciding to flee instead of face him like you shouldâve.Â
â
The gathering itself was far more boring than you imagined it to be.Â
You and Gojo had the mutual understanding to act moreâŚwell, like a couple, than you actually were. You didnât comment on the way his arm circled around your waist a couple of minutes into making your rounds talking with people or the endearing way he referred to you as my wife.Â
Youâre glad that he doesnât do anything to talk about what he had told you in the carriage whenever the two of you were alone, acting like nothing was wrong and everything was normal as he inquired about your day.Â
You told him brief things, still trying to shove his words out of your mind, but it was no use. Iâd like to be your friend, your mind kept repeating, and you were too scared of brining it up in case he had changed his mind in between those minutes of quiet.
People you had never seen before congratulated you on your new marriage, their brows raised in that excited way as they motioned to your stomach, hinting at a special little someone who might be joining your lives soon.Â
âSoon!â You said with a curt laugh, glancing momentarily at Gojo only to see him already looking at you, a light blush dusting his cheeks.
He made sure not to stay with people who were strangers to you for too long, not wanting to bore you to death, and allowed you to take in more of the well-lit and vastly decorated manor.Â
Though its size was incomparable to the Gojo estate, it was still massive. The Tokoshi family had been a family with the Gojo one for centuries, so there was no question that the riches they had amassed over the years by being trading partners with them had culminated in this.Â
Gojo told you earlier in the carriage, before everything else, how the young Tokoshi couple were good people. They liked to throw parties a couple of times a year, inviting only a select few. He liked them far more than a lot of the other people he had been forced to grow up with over the years.Â
You look at the dining hall, at the corridors with openings that allow you to look outside without the glare of glass. His arm never left your body, holding you close to him as he let you walk around, your mouth hanging open slightly as you craned your neck to look at everything. Candles were lit everywhere, the bouquets of different assortments of flowers decorating the stone flower holders carved into the walls.Â
You mentioned to him in the privacy of the carriage, that you hadnât ever been able to experience a party of this sort of caliber before. You could see how he wanted to ask more questions, but you could see the answers already formulating his head as to why.
âWe probably look like one of those couples where the wifeâs dying and the husband takes her out to see the stars one last time,â you whisper to him, still looking around in a stunned sort of way at the beauty of it all.Â
Gojoâs head ducks down a bit, trying to hide the chuckle that had broken out and made its way onto his face. He coughs into his fist as if that was the issue, but you look over at him to see the humor in his eyes.Â
âDid you lose your bet again?â You ask, glancing at him from the corner of your eyes as he looks like heâs fighting the grin thatâs threatening to take over.Â
âIâm always losing that bet,â he tells you.
Though he doesnât do anything to bring up his conversation, you can see it in the way he looks at you, as if heâs still teetering on an edge, wanting to know what you were thinking in that frazzled mind of yours.Â
You decide to push past it.
âCan I get in on it?â You ask, turning slightly so that you face him, very aware of the fact that his hand hasnât moved from its spot on your waist.
You try not to think about it, reminding yourself that itâs just for show, but you canât stop the feeling of heat that travels wherever it is he seems to touch you. His hand is larger than an average one, his fingers moving mindlessly up and down on your corseted stomach.Â
âDo you need the extra coin?â His voice is carrying a strange toneâŚis he teasing you?Â
But again, you try not to think about it, itâs all for show, (you also try not to think too much of the fact that youâre pretty separated from everybody else).
âNo, I just need coin,â you explain, fixing one of the medallions on his chest that had been slightly slanted, âI have nearly nothing left.âÂ
Gojo moves barely away from you, his eyes searching yours as if to find the joke.Â
âHave you run through my family gold already?â His voice is still toying, but now itâs filled with a little confusion.Â
âNo, of course not,â you snort, rolling your eyes as you tilt your chin up to look at him better, âI havenât touched any of your gold. I just ran through mine.âÂ
His brows quirks upward, mouth parting slightly.Â
âYouâve emptied the gold your family sent up?âÂ
Itâs your turn to be confused.Â
âWhat gold?â You ask, moving away from him, his hand falling to his side, and you suddenly miss his warmth.Â
You remember your father talking about how the Gojo family had rejected your initial dowry, saying something along the lines of outlandish practices, but aside from that, you werenât told about any other sort of money that was supposed to be sent with you.Â
He pinches the bridges of his nose, sighing deeply.Â
âThe gold that they sent with you? It wasnât supposed to be a lot but it was supposed to suffice for the journey here.âÂ
You blink owlishly at him.Â
âWhat gold have you run through?â He specifies, plastering on a fake smile when he catches the eyes of somebody behind you, but then focuses his stare back to you.Â
âWellâŚâ you shrug, âMy gold.âÂ
Gojo looks like heâs about to make a new bet, one thatâs with every time youâve almost given him an aneurysm trying to figure out your strange riddles and rhymes that are supposed to be actual words.Â
âI used to make some gold at my old home,â you explain, keeping your voice low in case somebody was somewhere that you hadnât seen, but realizing that Gojo was lost, you continued, âThe stable boy gave me some of his salary if I took care of the horses and cleaned the stables. Sometimes heâd give me extra if I could haul in the large bags of hay.âÂ
He scoffs, shaking his head slightly.Â
âWhy?â That seems to be a question heâs been asking lately.Â
You shrug again, feeling his hand circle back around your waist as some people come near you,Â
âI needed new clothes and my shoes had holes in them. My fatherâs wife didnât let him give me much, so I tried to fill in the gaps.â
You smile at one of the couples that are coming near you, going back into your other persona as you begin chatting with them. Gojo pulls you in tighter to his side, staying silent. You donât notice the way he hasnât stopped staring at you, nor the way his heart seems to have churned so painfully in his chest.Â
â
The night progresses and you find yourself inside the dining hall, being shown to your seats by one of the maids, finding your name next to Gojoâs on a name card.Â
The two of you sit down, watching the people the file in, the sound of laughter filling the room, the clinking of china against each other filling in the rest of the silence. You take it all in with a smile, looking every and at everyone.
âI hope Iâm not embarrassing you,â you whisper as you lean closer to Gojo, an apologetic smile on your face as you sit further into your seat, âThis is all just so new to me.âÂ
You donât see the ways his eyes soften, his hand inching closer to yours as he shakes his head.Â
âYouâre not embarrassing me,â he murmurs back, leaning his head closer to yours, wanting his words only to be heard by you, âIâm glad youâre enjoying this.â The smile that makes its way onto your face could power the universe, and Gojo feels like the wind had been knocked from his lungs, far worse than in training when somebody's foot slams into his chest.Â
âI am!â Your enthusiastic and hurried words are hushed, but he can still hear the way youâre trying to hide your joy. The small talk is horrific,â he laughs a little bit, âbut still I love it.âÂ
He opens his mouth to speak but is cut off by the sound of a knife hitting glass.Â
âEveryone! Give me your time, just for a moment!â Miyo Tokoshi, whom you spoke to briefly, stands up, his chair behind him.
All eyes in the room fall on him, people still smiling, their teeth glimmering in the light.Â
âI cannot express my joy to be in a room with you all tonight,â he says, looking around the room, making sure he saw everyone for a split second. âAnd my wife and I couldnât be more ecstatic to host the first gathering of the season!â
You look at the woman sitting next to him, Lana, who you had also met momentarily, is gleaming at him, her face full of genuine adoration. She, along with everybody else, claps, laughing joyfully.Â
You wonder if this is what a real husband and wife should look like, and you look briefly over to Gojo, your mind reeling with the charade the two of you have been playing this entire night.Â
âAnd we couldnât be happier to welcome the first couple of the year,â he exclaims, pointing his glass over to you and Gojo, saying your name and then your husbands as he claps his hand softly against his wrist, âMay every moment you spend together be better than the last. We wish the two of nothing but a lifetime of happiness and prosperity.Â
Gojo raised his glass to him, his hand grasping yours as he lifted it to his lips, planting a kiss on the back of it.Â
You feel like youâve stopped breathing with the linger of his lips on your skin, the last time that happened on the night of your wedding, and watching him grasp it even tighter when he sets it back down, weaving his fingers through yours.Â
Stop, you chide, raising your glass as well, a shaky smile on your face, itâs just an act.
He winks at the two of you, nodding once more as he focuses his stare somewhere down the table, obstructed by where you are sitting.
âAnd to the future couple! Naoya and Freya!âÂ
Gojo turned his head immediately to look at you, watching the color drain from your face, and before you knew it, the man, Naoya, was standing up, a hand over his chest in faux gratitude as he thanked the host.Â
You could never mistake that hair, the feline look in his eyes as he scanned across the room, a slimy smile on his face. You watch as it grows even wider when he finally catches his prey when he finally sees you, and you feel nauseous, like youâre about to throw up all those little crackers they had given you earlier that evening.Â
The hand holding yours squeezes, knowing he canât say anything right now, and you swallow thickly, eyes darting over to his as you feel your head about to sway.Â
Naoyaâs here. The man you turned down for Gojo.Â
The rest of Tokoshiâs speech is muted to you. It feels like your head is being held underwater, and you feel sweat dotting your forehead, your chest, and your palms. You can feel Gojoâs eyes on the side of your head and can tell heâs trying to tell you something silently.Â
The clinking of glass brings you out of your haze, looking up mindlessly as you haphazardly clink yours against Gojoâs, rubbing a hand down your face as if that would help.Â
You're grateful for the flurry of movements and noises, everybody talking to somebody, the people beginning to serve themselves the wide array of food places in front of them.Â
Gojo squeezes your hand one more time, and you finally look over at him, trying to muster up a smile but with how queasy you feel and the way your head spinning, it probably looks like youâre about to be sick all over him.Â
âIâll be okay,â you say through clenched teeth.Â
Gojo nods, his thumb rubbing up and down your hand in a soothing way. Itâs just for show.Â
âIâm sorry my palms are sweating,â you laugh mirthlessly, and he squeezes it again, youâre sure heâs only doing this because of the extra attention of the two of you ever since they realized you and Naoya were in the same room, âyou donât have to keep holding it.âÂ
âDo you want me to let go?â He asks, and you stop poking around at the turnips on your plate.Â
No.Â
âN-no,â you croak out, desperate for his touch thatâs grounding you, âNo, please.âÂ
Gojo nods, his thumb not stopping its comforting motion of moving up and down.Â
âDonât worry,â he mutters, leaning closer to you as you duck your head so that your ears are near his lips, âMy hands get sweaty too.âÂ
You laugh quietly and it sounds like wind chimes. You look at Gojo and watch as his lips tug upwards into a soft smile, one you had never seen before, and one you thought you never would.Â
â
You tried to hide away the rest of the party, but Gojo didnât seem to mind.Â
When it was time to leave you accepted the gracious hug of the hosting couple, promising them that youâd come back for a more private dinner, and let Gojo lead you out into the courtyard where all the carriages were held.Â
You slept the entire ride home, not wanting to mess anything up by taking, and youâre happy that Gojo didnât bother you. You felt groggy when you returned to the estate, grateful for Gojoâs steady hand as he helped you out of the carriage. The two of you looked like you wanted to say something, but couldnât, so you bid each other good night and went your separate ways.
Separate except for one brief moment.Â
You were walking away and up the stairs when you suddenly stopped, remembering what it was that you wanted to tell him. You call out his name, watching as he turns, white brows slightly furrowed.Â
âIâŚâ you start but realize you didnât exactly have a plan for what you wanted to say. He gives you his patience, not looking annoyed or frustrated when you try to think of the right words to string together.Â
âIâŚI would like to be your friend too,â you finally say, and watch as a smile forms on his face, his pink lips tugging upwards in a way that made his eyes shine, the way your earrings did in the candlelight.Â
He rakes his hand through his snow-white locks, pushing them away from his face.Â
âIâll see you at breakfast then,â Gojo says, and you dip your head down in a small smile.Â
You give him a small wave, disappearing as you round the corner.
And since then, you found him joining you not only for breakfast or the sparse dinners but for any meal he possibly could.Â
Gojo talked more, about anything and everything, and you did the same.Â
You realized that he was actually an open person the closer you got to him, seeing that he too was capable of laughing and making jokes, his teasing eyes growing more frequent the closer your chairs got to the dinner table until you eventually just sat side-by-side, growing tired of shouting at each other across its length.Â
On the days he wasnât busy with strategizing or talking to other lords, heâd walk around the estate with you, telling you stories from his childhood, the times heâd run amock around the halls. Other times the two of you would go into town, looking at the different stores together.Â
You could tell he was trying, could see it in the way he glanced at you from time to time to make sure that you were doing well.Â
Heâd accompany you to the library if you asked him to, and youâd go down sometimes to the training yard just to see him. Gojo would never tell you how much he tried to show off when you were there and knew he never had to. You could see the way he tried to appear even stronger when fighting with one of the other men, the poor soldier coming out with bruises and cuts all over his body.
Over many weeks, you find yourself looking forward to spending time with him, and a part of your cracked self begins mending itself again.Â
It felt like after years of searching for somebody, somebody found you.Â
On one of the nights when his sparring had gone on for far longer than it usually does, you decided to head down to the training yard after your night bath, tugging on a large robe over yourself as you walked the familiar stone steps down to where you knew he was.Â
You could hear them before you saw them, a cacophony of fists hitting skin, groans, shouts from one another. There was a little perch from where you could watch what was happening below, and you usually hid yourself in a corner so that they wouldnât see you.Â
Youâd rest on a pillar, arms crossed over your shoulder as you looked at the men below. Gojo was always easy to find, the flurry of white hair a tall-tale sign of where he was. You had watched him before, but you never got tired of it. You found it almost inhuman the way his movements seemed to flow like water, the way his hits were precise and direct.Â
Gojo truly was the best warrior the North had ever seen, and sometimes you forget that youâre married to a man who brought down entire armies with just his bare fists.Â
You watch as he jests with one of his friends, his chest rising a little bit at an irregular pace, slightly out of breath, but happy to be there. He turns to one of the guys behind him to say something, but his eyes immediately track upwards to the figure trying to stay hidden, you and a wide smile break out on his face.Â
He waves at you, and it gets the attention of the other men there. They all turn to see where you are, their boyish grins and calls making you roll your eyes at their antics, your face heating up slightly as you wave back at them.Â
Gojo says something to the person next to him, and you hear the man shout at the other ones to wrap it up for the night. Some of them wave goodbye to you as they begin exiting, going back to their common rooms.Â
You make a move to lean slightly over the railing, your arms crossed over the wood as you peer down at the ground where Gojo remained alone, finding him to already be looking up at you.Â
âCare to come down?â He juts his chin at the staircase to your left, the one that leads down to the courtyard, and you nod, disappearing behind the stone pillars as you take the steps leading downwards.Â
Youâve been here a couple of times, as per your own request. You wanted to see what they did during training, what the training yard actually looked like from the ground. You lift the ends of your dress up slightly as you near the bottom, rounding the corner to see Gojo standing in the middle.Â
Heâs waiting for you, his eyes tracking your movements as you come near to him.Â
His nose twitches slightly, his eyes squinting as he lifts his head in the air, suddenly picking up the scent of something unusual.Â
âWhatâs that smell?â Gojo asks as you come to him, his eyes looking over your body as if it were emitting from you.Â
You scoff, appalled, and then suddenly remember that Alina had applied some lavender oil to you after your bath.Â
âIf itâs a good smell then me,â you cross your arms over your chest, nose wrinkling in disgust as you take in his smell of sweat and grime, âIf bad then you.â
Gojo snorts, coming closer to you as he continues sniffing, exaggerating the sound. You step away from him slightly, the smell of sweat overpowering, and he takes notice of this.Â
âWhat?â He inquires, annoyed that you are moving away from him, and he takes a step closer.Â
âWhat do you mean what?â You tease, moving again as he tries to smell the air, âYou smell like an army of unshowered men. I just took a bath.âÂ
Gojo seems offended at this, trying to move back closer to you but you side-step him, apparently serious about this.Â
âYou really wonât let me come near you?â He sounds like youâve kicked him down, his cheeks stained pink from earlier, and you laugh slightly, shaking your head.Â
âI really wonât,â you affirm, shoving the back of your wrist to him to show him that what he was smelling was in fact you, âSee? Lavender oil.âÂ
Gojo just seems to be getting more annoyed the more you try to evade him, his blue eyes swirling with an idea as you look at him in worry.Â
âNo, the smell is coming from somewhere else.â He argues, changing his footing so that he stands right in front of you and you let out a shocked laugh, not expecting this as you take a step back.Â
You donât know where else he can smell the lavender oil. Alina dotted it to your wrists and your neck, but surely canât differentiate the difference in locationâŚright?Â
âCome here,â he almost whines, âIâm not going to rub off my smell onto you.âÂ
You laugh again out loud, picking up the skirt of your dress as you try to outrun him slightly.Â
âYou will!â You insist, motioning to the sheen of sweat on his body, âYou reek of sweat. I swear itâs just lavender oil!âÂ
He groans, his eyes rolling to the back of his head at this inconvenience.Â
âYouâre killing me right now,â Gojo dramatically grabs his chest, âYou wonât let me smell this strange aroma and itâs killing me,â his face breaking into a little pout as you laugh even louder, shocked at how petulant he was being. Your laughing seemed to spur him on even more, running towards you as you ran backward, hoping you didnât trip on the fabric of your dress.Â
âYou have a plethora of bottles of lavender oil in your own room,â you argue, âthis isnât something innovative that youâve never smelled before.âÂ
Gojo shakes his head, and your heart flutters at the way his smile is so playful and teasing, the way some of his hair falls into his face in that messy way when heâs usually training and not caring about his appearance.Â
âItâll only take a second,â he reasons and you shake your head no, your eyes both shining with playful laughter.Â
The courtyards lead out into the large fields of the Gojo estate, and you look behind yourself at the opening. Itâs night, thereâs nobody around. Nobody would judge you for running away from your sweaty husband.Â
You look back at him, see the gleam in his eyes, and know that heâs not going to back down.Â
He can see the thoughts forming in your head, can assume them before theyâre even created, and so heâs straight on your heels as you sprint away from him, a large smile on your face as you squeal out loud.Â
âPlease!â You shout over your shoulder, running down the little hill as the moon lights the way for you, âI just took a bath! Leave me alone!âÂ
You can hear the grass rustling beneath your feet, your screams of laughter contagious as you try to outrun the fastest person ever, and try not to slow yourself down by looking over your shoulder to see where he is.Â
But after a couple of seconds of running you realize that the only footsteps you hear are your own, and you pause momentarily to look behind you and are surprised to see that heâs not there.Â
Did he not come after you?Â
You look around the field, the large blades of grass looking like waves that move with the wind, and whip your head around every time you hear a twig snap.Â
You're a little bit further away from the manor itself, and the only thing you can see besides its large stone walls are the torches lit outside. You can make out the guards who are standing outside, but no sign of Gojo.Â
You try to catch your breath, confused as to where he couldâve gone when a force stronger than a horse running at full speed slams into your side.Â
The scream you let out echoes around the field, and you brace yourself for the harsh impact of hitting the ground. With your eyes squeezed shut you wait for the flash of pain, but peek them open to see Gojo framing your head with one of his hands, his body shielding you from the impact as he lays on top of you.Â
âHowâŚ?â You scream, your chest moving up and down with your fit of giggles, trying to push him off of you, âYouâre a beast!â You cry out, moving your head to the side as he laughs along with you, his chest rumbling with the movement.Â
You shove his face away with the palm of your hands, shoving your wrist into his nose as if that would satiate him.Â
âI took a bath you behemoth!â You whine, thinking about the dirt and mud that must be staining your skin and dress right now, âAre you so void of any good fragrance in your life that you must hunt me down for it?âÂ
Gojo tsks, shaking his head as he swats your wrist aside.Â
Heâs also slightly out of breath, most likely because he ran across and entire field from another entranceway that you werenât aware of to catch you off guard, and youâre suddenly very aware of just how close to two of you are together.Â
His hand is still cradling your head, the other one holding your hips. Truthfully he doesnât even smell bad, which is frustrating that itâs just another one of his many talents.Â
He judges your jaw up with his nose, and you helplessly comply, your heart hammering wildly as he leans in closer to the skin of your neck, taking in a whiff as he looks back up to you, his eyes gleaming.Â
Gojoâs hand on your hip moves up slightly to hold your waist, not hard, but to stop you from squirming around.Â
âIt smells different here,â he nudges your neck with his nose again, and your breathing hitches, âSmells sweeter.âÂ
You swallow thickly, blinking slowly as you crane your neck slightly upwards to give him more room. Itâs like your body is moving on its own, and youâre not to sure how you know what to do, but you just do.Â
âThatâs not possible,â you try to argue, trying your best to keep your voice from wavering, âYou just lack the nose for good oils.âÂ
Gojo laughs lowly, shaking his head at your antics as he braces his knees on either side of your thighs, caging you in.Â
âI have a very keen sense of smell,â he boasts and you snort, looking away as he pinches your hip to which you yelp.
His hand moves away from your head and to your shoulder, to where your nightgown had slightly slipped off and runs a thumb down a patch of your skin where it was slightly raised, a faint scar on your collarbone.Â
âWhereâd you get this?â His voice is slightly hushed, and you look down from your chin to where he is talking about.Â
 âHm?â You look around, see that heâs pointing to the tiniest little scar, and chuckle slightly, âOh, that?â Your eyes squint as you try to remember, âI tried to climb up a tree once when I was little and fell.â Gojo huffs out a little laugh, his eyes still focused on your skin as you chew on the inside of your cheek.
âIt probably looks far worse compared to anything you have,â you say sarcastically, âThe family physician kept saying I wasnât going to make it through the night.âÂ
He scoffs, rolling his eyes at your antics as he raises himself, moving away from you as he sits back down on the grass. You miss his warmth, the way his heat radiated onto you like a furnace.Â
âI donât know how you keep surviving between your inability to consume fish and your near-death occurrences,â Gojoâs voice holds a teasing tone and you smile, moving up so that youâre facing him.Â
You rest your weight back on your hands, kicking your legs out in front of you as your skirt flows around the grass. A while ago you wouldâve felt improper sitting like this in front of anyone, but you donât seem to care all that much when itâs Gojo.Â
âI showed you my battle would,â you say, putting one leg on top of the other, âWhatâs your worst one?â You ask, tilting your head to the side in questioning.Â
Gojo purses his lip, thinking.Â
You imagine that heâd tell you or probably motion to where it was, but a second later you watch, shocked, as he tugs his tunic upwards, your face heating as he rises it slightly so that you can see a part of his stomach.Â
You hate how utterly built he is.Â
His skin is pulled taught over the smooth stomach of his abs, his chest huge with pure muscle, his arms, bulging through the sleeves. Itâs something you thought youâd get used to, something you told yourself to stop ogling at, but never could.
But you shift your focus to a large scar that runs across his chest, from the bottom of his hip under his arm. It still looks relatively new, and the scar itself still pink. You could see the way it was jagged, not one smooth line, and gods, fuck, why do you want to touch it?
âWell,â you try to think of something witty to say, seeing the way heâs looking at you as if waiting for it, âClearly not as bad as mine, but it comes in as a close second.âÂ
He throws his head back as he laughs, his muscles contracting as he does so. You feel flushed, not able to look away from the scar, knowing that you were merely compensating for not knowing what to say.Â
âI know,â he says eventually with a shrug, looking down as he surveys the scar, âItâs not as bad as it couldâve been.âÂ
You pout slightly, thinking.Â
âDoes it hurt?âÂ
He looks up at you, at the way you canât take your eyes away from it, and shakes his head.Â
âNot anymore,â he sits up a little straighter, closer to you as you watch him move, âSometimes I can feel it sting, but itâs barely noticeable.âÂ
You beg to differ.Â
The two of you donât say anything and a part of you has decided that silence is bad for you. Because before you can really think about what youâre doing, you push yourself upwards, leaning in closer to him as you try to get a better look at it.Â
He doesnât say anything, but if only you could see the way he could barely use his lungs to breath right now youâd make some sly remark about how the best warrior of the North was growing shy from just a look.Â
But suddenly youâre not looking anymore as you shuffle in a little closer, your fingers reaching upwards to touch the skin.Â
You can hear the wind move around you, the grass rustiling as your fingers run across the scar. His abs flex at the coldness of your hand, but he doesnât tell you to stop. Youâre studying it intently, wondering what sort of weapon couldâve caused this.Â
Gojoâs size dwarfs over yours, but you donât seem to mind. Your lips as slightly pursed as you take it in.Â
âDid you fight a bear?â You finally ask, peeking up to look at him.Â
Youâre startled by the way the flush on his cheeks has grown even more red, or the way you canât see the blues in his eyes anymore. Has he always looked like that?
Gojo shakes his head, taking in a shaky breath, looking at the top of your head as you go back to looking at the scar.Â
âNearly,â he tries to joke, but his voice is weak, laced with need, âBut I doubt a bear would even want to be compared to the man who gave me the scar.âÂ
You look up, your brow quirked in curiosity.Â
âWho?â You ask, shocked at how quiet your voice came out.Â
Gojo smiles, but it doesnât quite reach his eyes. His tongue clicks against his teeth, his hand rising up to grab yours, pulling it away from his chest. He canât bear to have you touching him like that anymore, not trusting himself to restrain the pure desire that bubbling inside his veins.Â
âNaoya,â he says hushed, watching as your lips part and eyes widen.Â
Thereâs a beat of silence, a moment when you think you can hear your heart beating in the same rhythm his is.Â
Your hand curls into itself, shock taking over your features as your eyes drop to his scar and then back up to him. You find yourself wanting to say everything and anything, but canât somehow find the words that youâre looking for. Gojo beats you to it, thankfully.Â
âIâve been having this recurring dream ever since I fought him of that same moment over and over again when he cut me open. But itâs changed, recently,â He sits up straighter, so close to you that your chests are almost touching, âAnd I keep seeing him marrying you, what wouldâve happened if you had said yes.â
âAnd gods, fuck,â he ducks his head down, raking an agitated hand through his hair, making it even more messy, âIâŚâ He chokes on his breath, looking back at you, and suddenly you see the glossiness in his eyes, the way that tears brim his waterline.Â
And suddenly you see the Gojo Satoru, the Lord in the North, the most powerful man alive, cry.Â
âI keep reprimanding Naoya in my head about how awful he is, about how Iâd kill nearly every person alive if he ever touched you, b-but I was just as awful. I think about the first time I saw you, about the first weeks you were here. I think about how you mustâve felt, how alone you were. Every dayâŚâ he wipes messily at his cheeks, his lips wobbling, âEvery day I wake up and think of you. I think about your face, your smile, your eyes, your lips, the way your nose scrunches, that line between your brows when you're confused, and every night I go to sleep hoping that this was all an awful dream and I havenât ruined your life, but then I wake up, and it starts all over again.âÂ
âI know Iâm a selfish man,â Gojo says with a wet chuckle, his cheeks wet with tears, âI know I shouldnât, but I want you to myself, I want you forever. I want to be your friend, I want to be the person you sleep next to, the person you go to when you want to talk about your little stories. I want to hear your jokes and I want to see you laugh. I want to hold your hand, I want to put that ring on your finger every morning, and I want to propose to you each night.â
He shakes his head, swallowing his cries down, the moon lighting the tear tracks that start from his eyes and end at his chin.Â
âBut I know you donât want that. You told me that you wanted a friend, butâŚâ he shrugged, his smile sad, aching, longing, âI think along the way of being your friend I realized I wanted to be your husband too.âÂ
âI understand if you want to leave. Iâll tell my parents the truth, theyâll understand. I have a house ready for you near the sea, one away from your family, where you can start over.âÂ
The wind rustles the hills, and you look at the field, watch the way it moves in tandem with the life around it.Â
You can feel the tears forming in your eyes, and know that even if you blink them away itâll do nothing to actually hide them. Thereâs a burning feeling in your chest, one that youâve never felt before, one that rings with Gojoâs words.Â
You run your fingers through the grass, looking up at him with a certain fire in your eyes.
âWhat if I donât want that?â
He blinks slowly.Â
âI,â Gojo sniffs, nodding profusely, hoping you donât see the way he crumbles, âI understand, I promise I do. The house is a couple days-âÂ
âNo,â you cut him off firmly, wiping your palms furisuly across your cheeks, to rid them of the pesky tears, shaking your head, âWhat if I donât want that?â You move up to him, reaching your hand down his tunic, your fingers moving against is chest as you dig out the gold chain thatâs wrapped around his neck.Â
The one that holds his ring, the one he told you about one night that keeps it safe whenever heâs training.Â
âWhat if I want this?â Your voice is cracking, and you tug the chain tighter.
âWhat if I want all those things? What if I want you to love me?â The ring shines in the moonlight, mirroring her pair thats wrapped around your finger, âI want to be your friend,â you stress, your brows strewn together as tears overflow from your waterline, âAnd I want to know what things you like. I want to walk with you all around the earth and walk back home again. I want to sleep next to you. I want to make you laugh, and I want you to make me smile. I want you to be my husband so that I can be your wife,â you cry out, your chest heaving up and down as he wraps his arms around your back, pulling you into his lap as he tries to quickly wipe your tears away.Â
âI want you too, Satoru,â you whisper, broken with your wet sniffles, a wet laugh escaping your lips when you see him crack at the way you said his name with so much care, your thumbs gliding across his cheeks.Â
You slide closer into him, your legs splitting across his huge thighs as he hugs you tenderly to him, his head resting on your chest so that he can hear your heartbeat, make sure that this wasnât just another dream.
âI donât deserve you,â he murmurs against your bosom, looking up at you with glistening eyes.Â
âThen fight for me,â you whisper, your hands on either side of his face, âGive me all those things. Give me more,â you smile when his arms wrap around your waist a little tighter, his hands holding you up, âAnd Iâll do the same.âÂ
He nods, holding your hand that was still holding onto his ring to his chest, one hand moving to your back, and in the mess of tears and broken laughs the two of you seem to move together, meeting each other in the middle as your lips find each other in the dark shadows of night.Â
You gasp when his lips capture yours, and he moves towards the sound, wanting to hold it, keep it forever.Â
Gojo moves slowly, knowing that this is your first time, and cups your jaw, helping you move along with him as you lips slot and lock against each other. Itâs messy and with no order, your chin staining with sweat as you moan against him, feeling delirious without the touch of him.Â
You know this isnât the easiest position for him, but he doesnât seem to mind. He groans against you, his eyes squeezing shut, trying to memorize your taste in case the world ended tomorrow and this was his last meal.Â
âIs this-â You cut him off when you swoop in again, his laughter cut short by your needienss, the way you paw at his chest, your hands winding up to his hair as you tug harshly on the soft strands.Â
He moans at this, at the way you grind mindlessly on his thigh, your need for each other bleeding out into the open.Â
âI love you,â he murmurs against you, kissing down your chin and then back up to you, his tongue swiping against your lips, savroing your whine, âI love you so much,â he says to everybody, hoping even those on mountains oceans away could hear, âI love you, my wife,â and you giggle, eyes bright when you hear those words.Â
âSay it again,â you ask, your nails drawing little shapes on his nape, and you see him break into a smile.Â
âMy wife,â he repeats with a peck to your cheek, âMy beautiful wife,â he kisses the tip of your nose, smiling at the way it scrunhed up slightly, just the way he adored, âMy wife,â he kisses your jaw, âMy wife,â your giggling nonstop and he hopes to bottle up the sound and hear it on his deathbed.
His hands travel back down to your hips, adusjsting you slightly so that you wouldnât feelt he embarrassing hardening of his dick just from kissing you, and moves his lips down to your neck, hearing the way thereâs a hitch in your laughter.Â
âWhyâd you stop?â he nudges his nose at that spot pf your neck that still smells like lavender, his favroite scent in the world, âHm?â Gojo hums against that spot, licking a wet stripe up it, sucking at the skin, feeling the way you arch into his chest.Â
âY-your reeking s-scent infiltrated my nose,â you murmur, biting on your lip as he pinches your waist.Â
âYeah?â Gojo continued to tease you, sliding the sleeve of your dress down, giving you more access to the skin of your collarbone, âWant me to stop?âÂ
âNo!â You cry, totally against your better judgement, moaning when he sucks another mark into the skin, biting it, and then presses a soft kiss to it as an apology, âPlease, please, donât stop.âÂ
He chuckles darkly, shifting you around so that you are lying back down on the ground, his body framing yours as he continues tugging down your dress, going slow in case you ever wanted him to stop.Â
His fingers are quick at untying the string that holds you bodice together, unravelingit all until it falls off and heâs greeted to the sight of your heaving chest, the way your naked breasts rise and fall.Â
Gojo blinks for a moment, forgetting how to move.Â
âW-what?â You ask, a little self-conscience as he continues to stare at your chest, âDo they look wonky?â You move your hands to cover up but a deep gutteral growl escapes his lips, pinning your hands back.Â
âBeautiful,â he bites out, moving his head down, pressing a wet kiss in between the valley of your breasts, âYou look like a fuckinâ statue,â he says, âYouâre s-so beautiful.â Gojo repeats, and you canât protest with the way he praises you, nor the way his lips hover over a nipple, finally leaning in fully as he sucks on it.Â
âF-fuck!â You cry out at the sensation, your fingers lost in his hair as you keep him there, back arching off the ground, âThat, that feelsâŚgood,â you canât speak, not with the way his tongue slides across your nipple, pressing little kisses around you areola.Â
His other hand goes to your other one, making sure sheâs not feeling lonely, his thumb flicking over your sensitive nipples as you whine even louder.Â
Gojo switches and you feel your breath shudder in an embarrassing whimper, your eeys squeezing shut when he bites at you, wanting to mark you up for those wretched gods to see and feel humanly jealous over.Â
âSo soft,â he murmurs against your skin, almost in awe, âfeels like silk.âÂ
You wouldâve had a witty joke about this, you know you did, but you canât fathom to think about anything other than the way his lips feel on your tits, the way he seems like heâd die had he not been here sooner.Â
But he then raises his head, and you whine in protest. Gojo almost break at the way youâre looking up at him, the way yor lips tremble from sheer desire.Â
âWant more?â He presses, his hands, warmer than the fire thatâs burning in your belly, trailing down, down to where your dress was slightly parting, âHere?âÂ
âY-yes, fuck,â you moan, parting your legs to make room for him, not knowing what this feeling was but knowing that he was the only one who could soothe it, âNeed it so bad Sa-satoru,âÂ
His eyes roll back, swallowing his primal groan at the way you plead for him, and nods, pressing a kiss against your stomach before his hitches the fabric upwards, sliding down your body so that his face is closer to that heat.Â
You know you should feel more shame, but you feel like youâre going to die if your husband doesnât do something soon.Â
Gojoâs hand travels up your calf, trailing up your thigh, and suddenly stops.Â
You go to beg, plead, for him, but cut yourself off when his lips find your inner thighs, pressign wet and messy kisses to them, getting dangerously close to where you felt like you were leaking.Â
âYouâre divine,â he whispers against your skin, hands wrapping around your thighs as he pulls them apart, âFuckinâ divine.âÂ
His lips suddenly find there, you glistening cunt, and you mewl out for him.Â
âSatoru,â your chest is heaving like you canât find any air, âT-there, please, there,â and fuck the way youâre begging him is so sweet that he canât find it in himself to tease you.Â
His fingers seperate your wet lips, groaning when he sees just how much youâre dripping, and licks a tentative stripe upwards, your surprised gasp at how good it felt going straight to his cock.
Gojo carefully slides a finger through your tight walls, feeling the way you tighten around that, and lets his lips travel to your clit, pressing small kisses to it before he begins to suck. You clench around him, and your toes curl at the way he begins to pump it in and out, your essence soaking his skin.Â
âSo wet sweetheart,â he groans swapping his finger for his thumb at your clit, his tongue diving into your walls as he nearly cums from your saccharine taste alone, âS-shit, fuck, you taste like fucking heaven.âÂ
Your thighs tighten arund his head, but he craves the feeling, his tongue eating you out at such a fast pace that you begin to wonder if you need this more or him.Â
âO-oh gods,â your grips his head tightly, canât find the sympathy in yourself to feel bad, ââToru, oh, oh my, donât stop!Â
That coil in your stomach grows more taunt with each second.Â
He alternates, adding in another thick finger, feeling the way you try to stretch for him. He glides in and out of you with ease, but he wonders what youâd look like on his thick cock, how youâd preen as he split you open with his girth.Â
âSweet,â he moans against you, his voice vibrating against your pulsing walls, âYouâre so fuckinâ sweet.âÂ
You nod at something, whatever he just said, not fulling understanding anything around you as he continue to stimulate your clit, sucking on it, his teeth gliding across it with a little bite, and you moan out even louder.Â
âIâŚâ you canât think, canât breathe, âF-fcuk, âToru, something, somethingâs happening,â you donât know what this feeling is, this electric, all-consuming feeling thatâs zapping through your body, making it numb yet aware of everything at the same time.Â
âI know, I know,â Gojo praised you, one of his hands holding your stomach down, the added pressure making you whine, âYouâre doing so good for me, youâre there, come on come for me,â his hand travels up your body, finding yours as he weaves your fingers together.Â
âShit, shit,â you mewl, âIâm coming, fuck, c-coming!â You cry out, your back arching off of the ground as your legs grow slack around his shoulders, your walls pulsing around him as that string tightens for the final time and then finally breaks.Â
You can see white as your eyes rolls back into your head, squeezing his hand as tightly as you can, your yes dotting with tears. Your climax was all consuming, making you gush around his fingers and tongue, seeming to be never-ending, your body shaking in his hold.Â
Gojo presses one final kiss to your cunt, licking off your release from his fingers, groaning at the taste, and lets you catch your breath.Â
When youâre finally able to crack your eyes open, you peek them over to Gojo, seeing the way he tilts his head back, your cum still glistening on his chin and cheek, and whine out in embarrassment.Â
âWhat?â He asks, eyes teasing when you go to hide your face in your hands.Â
âI canât,â your words are muffled, âI canât believe I justâŚâÂ
Gojo kisses your forehead, wiping some of the tears from your eyes away as he kisses your brow bone.Â
âHow do you feel?â He asks, his eyes scanning over your body, glistening with sweat, and you take in a gulp of air.Â
âGood,â you say finally with a soft smile, âReally good.âÂ
You look from his little grin, one that you peck at, your thumb rubbing up and down his jaw, and then look down, to the obvious bulge thatâs hiding behind his training trousers.Â
Youâve never seen a cock before but fuck heâs massive.
âWhatâŚâ you trail off, sitting up slightly, and he helps balance you, âWhat about you?â you paw at his stomach, right before it leads down, and he lets out a shuddered whine.Â
âAs much as I-â he bites his tongue, feeling like heâs going to cum if you continue to look at him like that, âAs much as I want toâŚnot here,â he looks around at the field, shaking his head as a definite no, âNot here.âÂ
You go to protest, but he stops you, biting your fingers gently as you yelp, shoving his head away with little force as he chuckles.Â
You let him wrap your dress around you again, tying some of the knots so that it doesnât open up when youâre standing, and let the silence wash over the two of you calm your beating down heart down.
He plays with the ring around your finger, and you watch as the ring around his neck moves with his little breaths.Â
âI want to sleep in your bed,â you say, and his blue eyes find yours.Â
âYouâre crazy if you donât think Iâm letting you sleep anywhere else,â he says in a shocked sort of way and you laugh, looking over to the side for a brief moment, and then look back at him.Â
âDo you really love me?âÂ
Your words as whispered, but it feels like the wind picked them up and scattered them all around the field, around the river, the ancient stones, and right into Gojoâs heart.Â
âI really love you,â he whispers back, kissing your eyelids, in between your brows, your forehead, the back of your hand, and murmurs the words, âmy wife,â to nobody and to everybody at the same time.Â
You smile, pulling him down by that necklace of his so that you can plant a soft kiss against his lips. Â
#gojo x reader#gojo x reader smut#gojo x reader angst#gojo x you#gojo x you smut#gojo angst#satoru x reader#satoru x reader angst#gojo satoru x reader#jjk x reader#jjk x reader smut#jjk x reader angst#gojo satoru smut#gojo x reader fluff#satoru x you#jjk smut#arranged!gojo
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Corpse Groom - G.S.
Synopsis. Till dĂŠath do you partâŚor does it when a dĂŠathly error leads your newly-wedded husband to be from beyond the grĂĄve?
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, CĂRPSE BRIDE!AU, arranged marriages, period-typical mĂsogyny, Naoya is awful, accidental marriage, ĂĄngst, major character(s) dĂŠath, HAPPY ENDING, talks of dĂŠath, knĂves, poĂson, reĂncarnation, Gojo YEARNS, he loves you sm I cried, hĂĄndjobs, fĂngering, spĂtting, cĂşmplay, BRĂEDING, creampĂes, mentions of having kids, pĂşssydrĂşnk Gojo, overstĂm, oraI (fem rec.), pet names, swĂŠaring.
Word count. 12.7k (ohoho)
A/N. K!nktober isnât over until I had to make a rewrite of my favorite Halloween movie mhm <3
âMother, I refuse-â
âNonsense, child!â
That sharp snap! of your motherâs feathered fan is loud enough that the whole carriage rattles on its hinges, creaking you noisily to what seemed like your very doom.Â
You gulp when sheâs tilting her head down as far as her best, high-collared gown would allow, eyes narrowing. âThe Zeninâs are the only nobles left in this wretched town, and I will not have my daughter marrying some commoner.â
The unsteady cobblestone pathway jostles you in your cushioned seat ever-so-slightly, a pertinent little reminder of that fact.
In the deafening silence, your father pipes up - ever-the-pacifist, âNow now, why donât we all calm down, especially before such a glorious wedding.â But his words wither out into nothing but a whisper in the simmering tension. âLike your mother said, dear, the Zeninâs are a good family, with a uh-â Coughing nervously, â-good son. We just want you to be taken care of.â
As if that was the only thing.
But there was no use arguing.Â
Facing back to the gray window with a sigh, and you can only whisper. âIâd rather die than marry Naoya Zenin.â
---
âWith this hand-â
âLouder.â
âWith this-â
âMore passionate.â
âWith this damn hand-â
âNot a threat.â The older woman in front of you wrings her satin gloves, turning towards your fuming parents with a tone that matches their expression. âHonestly, I know that you new money people find it hard to adjust but this is our special tradition! My poor baby Naoya is going to be heartbroken tomorrow.â
Dutchess Zenin had a cruel sort of beauty to her, high cheekbones, and cutting eyes that picked apart every fray at your dress - the spitting image of her son.
And her âpoor baby Naoyaâ was currently finding it impossible to hide his smirk. Swiping away invisible dust from the velvety-clad shoulder of his overpriced suit, he sets down his wine bottle from the vows.
âDonât be too harsh, mother.â Naoyaâs smooth voice comes out in a dangerous purr, and you jolt when one of his strong arms slither around your waist. Possessive. âAfter all, itâs this oneâs face thatâs whatâs important.âÂ
God, if it werenât for your parentsâ pointed looks you would have shoved this overly-perfumed bastard away from you and bolted through those high doors faster than you could say âI do.âÂ
The Naoya Estate was as beautiful as its occupants could never be, brutal, looming architecture intended to make you feel smaller than you were. All those high cemented pillars, plush furniture, and gleaming chandeliers spoke of exactly what your parents wanted - power.Â
It wasnât the sort of home youâd like to call your own, but then again, you didnât have any choice in the matter.Â
âMy deepest apologies on behalf of my daughter, madam-â your motherâs gritting out the words, painted lips curling ever-so-slightly towards the end with a bitter taste. â-or should I say, co-mother-in-law? Ah, come now, we might as well be family already, right?â
âSure.â Dutchess Naoya turns, arching a needle brow. âMight as well, thanks to your family assets- if your daughter doesnât make a joke of the vows, that is.â
The wisened officiary standing at the altar nods solemnly towards you. âDo you even want to get married tomorrow, young lady?â No, you want to answer, but bite back. âZenin house traditions dictate that the mark of a good wife is one to follow the vows to its every syllable.â
You wince - and your features sting where theyâd been perfectly stretched into a plastic smile. Your next words come out small, strangled in a way that makes your future husband smile. âI apologize, I know how important these vows are, and Iâll- Iâll do better next time.â
âGood.â
With a click of Dutchess Zeninâs fingers, a hushed, swirling piano melody fills the hall once more.Â
Your wedding ballad.Â
Something that Naoya had prattled on and on about being an esteemed tradition in the Zenin household, a tender tune to accompany their sacred vows. Modeled after the long-lost royalty of this kingdom, and this was the closest youâd get to a taste of it.Â
It was your one initiation into power - saying those sweet, special promises - and the one thing you found impossible to get right.
â-for I will be your wine.â
Shit.
You didnât even realize that Naoya had polished off his own vows, before you jolt at the hefty weight of wine being poured into your cup.Â
And you could practically feel the burning stare of every eye in the room. Watching. Waiting.Â
Youâre fighting against your intricate corset to gulp in a deep inhale of the stale, thickening air. Clearing your throat ever-so-slightly, you raise the hand holding onto his wedding ring. âWith this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Y-your cup will never empty-â Fingers tightening around the silver goblet in your other, your breath hitches at the bile rising to your throat already. â-for I will be your- your uh- wine.âÂ
In the corner of your vision, you could spot Naoyaâs smug smirk already. You could hear his tiny âAs if you have any other choice.â
You knew what he was thinking.
That whisper is enough to make your jaw grind, your hand clench in a way youâd been taught by your mother not to - in a way that sheâd unfortunately forgotten to tell you was for the cupâs sake, rather than your own.
Because it only takes one harsh squeeze before it just bursts.
Red, red wine trickling all down your wrist, splattering onto the gauzy curve of your gown - but more importantly, onto Naoyaâs crisp suit.Â
It bleeds through the velvet in thick smears, seeping into the fabric as if catching on fire. Only staining further and further with each second heâs flailing frantically to wipe it off.Â
âShit- My apologies- oh, shit-â youâre gasping, but thereâs no one paying enough attention to tell you off for your unlady-like profanity right now. Body moving before your mind, you snatch some of the officiaryâs papers from him, âWait, it will only get worse- let me-â
Only to forget what was in your hands.
Honestly, if this was any other time you would have laughed watching the rest of the wine nestled safely in your cup come gushing down onto whatever was left of his unmarred suit - every single inch.Â
Itâs chaos.
Then itâs silence.Â
Every single breathing being in the room can only watch as the last few crimson droplets drip! drip! drip! onto Naoya Zeninâs lapels.
Wordlessly, you look to the aghast officiary, your stony-faced parents, and finally, your gaping fiancĂŠ. Youâre the first to speak - to hold back your chuckles, more like. âI- I cannot apologize enoughâŚâ
âYou- you witch! This was on purpose, wasnât it? Do you know how much this custom suit cost? How it was worn by the late highness himself.â Naoyaâs screeching, voice shrill. Pointing a finger accusingly at you, it would be menacing if it wasnât for the big, fat droplets of red dripping from his angry features. More of a drenched cat than the gentleman he pretends to be. âRemember that Iâm doing you a favor by marrying you-â
You cross your arms, struggling to keep composure. âI shall reimburse-â
â-and acting all haughty as if you were from the royal family itself.â heâs frantic, mouth running a mile a minute. Tugging at his wet strands, âAnd my hair, oh my beautiful beautiful hair-â
âI shall reimburse the emotional damages, too!â
Dutchess Zenin tackles her son into a soothing embrace you find almost comical, granting you with a venomous glare that you were sure if looks could kill, sheâd be lowering you into your grave and waltzing over it with Naoya already.
Simpering, âItâs quite alright my poor boy, this wedding cannot take place! We can find another-â
âNo no no- no, I still want to marry her-â His greedy eyes sweep your trembling figure up and down, âDoesnât matter if sheâs an unfit wife, Iâll fix her up-â Youâre quirking a brow, âSwear Iâll marry her and fix her up into-â
THUD!
Youâre throwing the cup remaining in your hand as hard as you can, hitting Naoya right in the bullseye of his chest. And as soon as the air leaves his lungs, they leave yours too - in a stubborn, infuriated hiss, âWell, Iâd never marry a spoiled, pompous brat like you.â
And with a flick of the stray beads of wine on your fingers at his face for good measure, you lift your heavy skirts as scandalously far as theyâd travel to dart out of the door.
Out of the winding corridors.Â
Out of the Zenin Estate.Â
Ignoring every call of your name, every arm reaching out for you - urgently following your feet wherever they took you. Honestly, youâre so busy gasping in deep lungfuls of the cool, fall air embracing you that youâre half-surprised you only crash into a few people on the streets.Â
Again. And again. And again and again, yet never stopping. Afraid of being followed by Naoya. Or even worse - your parents.
You barely even slow down until your tailored shoes crunch against gray snow, eyes taking in lines upon lines of towering trees in front of you. Tall, towering. Weaving their branches with the sky - ominous, almost, against the steadily darkening night creeping its way in.
The forest, youâre realizing with a gasp. Have you really come this far?Â
Taking a glimpse over your shoulder at the twinkling lights of the town in the distance, you think of the vows that were waiting for you, and the town rumors youâd definitely sparked. Well, a walk to cool off wouldnât hurtâŚ
And despite wanting to relax, your thoughts only churn with each step. Replaying the scenes from earlier over and over and-
âAnd your cup will always- fuck- they probably think Iâm such a fool.â youâre spitting, kicking at a pile of snow. âFuck Naoya and his vows, fuck that stupid wine, shouldâve shoved it up his-âÂ
Just then, a sudden gust of fall air puffs up against your ear, sending goosebumps careening down every bit of your exposed skin. You shudder sharply, hands shovelling for warmth inside your gownâs pockets, âUgh, todayâs such a horrible-â Only to cut yourself off with a gasp- âThis isâŚâ
You feel for that metallic cold again, hastily pulling out that solid, silvery ring. Meant for Naoya Zenin.
Admittedly gorgeous, an intricate band with a delicate sapphire embedded in its middle. Your mother had spent months tracking down the best jeweler in the country to forge a ring that even the Zeninâs would be impressed with.Â
Fit for a king.
You scoff, âAn unfit wife, my ass. Itâs not even that difficult.â
Still feeling highly insulted, and only slightly embarrassed for it, you clear your throat. Speaking clearly into the stiff air, âWith this hand, I will lift your sorrows.â Determinedly you stride your way into the middle of a slight clearing, âYour cup will never empty, for I will be your wine.â
Grasping a stray branch, you mock lighting the altar candles. âWith this candle, I will light your way in the darkness.â
Before setting down on one knee - customary for the groom, yet feeling so right when you gaze down at a tree root sticking up from the blanket of snow. Poised like the prettiest of fingers at the foot of a towering oak.
âWith this ring,â Youâre sliding it down easily as you would have to onto the man you hated the most. âI ask you to be mine.â
.
.
.
You donât expect the sudden shift.Â
You donât expect the wind to pick up, you donât expect for a murder of crows to materialize from the midnight darkness and crowd on a tree right behind you. Letting the tree root slip from your fingers, you whirl around - what- a storm?
But before you can think of any answers, that withered branch shoots further out of the ground. Barely giving you a split-second to jump backwards before cupping your cheek, gently.Â
And you couldâve sworn that one twig glides across your cheek - just the way oneâs thumb would have. Like the softest of lovers.Â
Gasping in fear, you fall backwards, splaying out into the uncomfortably bone-chilling snow below.
You can only watch as the tree root twitches once. Twice. And your ears thunder with the high-pitched howls of the wind, and a sudden, booming bang! bang! bang!
Shit.Â
Your eyes widen, it was coming from under the ground.Â
The ground that was splitting open before your very eyes.Â
Wider. And wider. Like something was baring itself before you. Something was clawing all the way from hell, that tree root only surging up, up, upwards in a long, limb-like fashion. Branching out into five fingers that dig their way into the ground. Hard.Â
And if you didnât think you were about to faint from just this - you were definitely on the verge of it when the fingers lead their way into a forearm, a shoulder. Miles upon miles of skin - a person, towering above you, silhouetted by moonlight.
He looks at you with sapphire eyes. Close.Â
A man.
Beautiful.Â
Whispering, âI do.â Nose to cold nose, thick white lashes fluttering shut. âYou may now kiss the groom.â
---
Youâre barely half-awake when you realize that that was probably the strangest dream youâve had in your life.Â
Groaning, you rub blearily at your eyes - yet, through the bursts of stars and pounding flashes of headaches, all you can think about is him and his chilling lips on yours.
Soft, like a leaving lover. Â
Even in your most feverish of dreams, youâd never conjured up anyone so ethereal. Tall, powerful despite the almost-sickly air about him, and the deep circles underneath his gleaming eyes.Â
But so gorgeous - sorrowfully so.Â
The image burned permanently into your mind, like your most favorite of memories. Every tiny detail down from the almost-blinding reflection of the moon against his cloudy hair, to how that illuminated his soft smile - that tiny dimple at the corner of his pert, pretty mouth.Â
You remember how he wore a wedding suit, the kind that nobles these days wouldnât dare touch with a six foot sword with how it looked centuries out of fashion. Stark white, with fine silver detailing down the velvety fabric for you to admire.
How ironic, somehow, the thought made you sad.
But most of all, you especially remember the way he looked at you.
Just like he was right now.
âAh!â
âNow thatâs not usually the reaction I- fuck!â
He was real. So painfully real.
And clutching his face where youâd claimed a swat at one of high cheekbones.
âOuch, my wife has a real good arm on her, huh?â Blinking back the haziness in your eyes, you catch sight of that same summer blue gaze, eyes crinkled slightly at the ends. Tender, despite being attacked by you less than a minute after gaining consciousness. âThough, I love a strong woman.â
âNew arrival! Looks like we got ourselves a breather-â
âLooks like she fainted, is she alright? You know we canât keep her long-â
âCan I touch her? Looks so soft~â
White - white fills your vision, too-late are you realizing that youâre being pressed into the soft coat of his chest. Inching you away from a hulking, four-armed creature, he mutters, âSheâs my wife, you curse.â
âWhat-â It takes you a few more seconds to finally find your voice. In those moments you look up to take in his boyishly pretty features - about your age. Human, had it not been for that otherworldly faint blue pallor. âIs this a joke? Where am-â
Choking on your words as you take a sweeping look around the - tavern? Realm? It looked like the very same one in your own town, except bright. Musical. Everything that your home wasnât. Finding faces you could never imagine looking at you - some beautiful, some mere skeletons, all taken out of your wildest dreams.Â
And all dead, it hits you with a jolt.Â
Yet, somehow, youâve never felt safer in his arms.Â
âSomething wrong, my love?â
You pinch yourself, âI need questions- now.â
âYou mean answers.â One from the pub crowd scoffs - a towering man, handsome. Heâd look ever-so-ordinary if it wasnât for the completely skeletal arm on his left side. And of course, that same death-like serenity. âHonestly, Gojo, you picked an airhead or what?â
The man that still held you - Gojo, you assume - whines in protest, âShut up, Toji. Iâd always love her regardless- and she said her vows so perfectly.â
âI didâŚâ you breathe.
Shit.Â
Shit shit shit- you did.
Cocking your head, you ask. âWho are you?âÂ
Heâs rolling his eyes, gifting you a crooked grin of pearly whites. âYour husband, obviously?â
And before you can pinch yourself again to make sure you werenât dreaming, and that last time was a fluke - or perhaps smack him again - Gojo shows off one slender hand. Naoya Zeninâs ring adorned proudly across his ring finger. Your ring. With your vows.Â
âSoâŚâ you let out a giggle of still disbelief. âYouâre the tree-â
âNot quite but-â
âOh! I love this story- could make a skeleton cry.â
âHeh, yeah yeah sing it, king of curses.â
âPlease donât.â
âYou see, welcome to the Land of the Dead, doll.â A man with pink hair sets down his drink to throw one of his four arms around your shoulder, much to Gojoâs chagrin. Words dripping with taunt, âNâ lemme tell you the story of our lovely corpse groom.â
Youâre dragged along through the crowded, eerily lit tavern, everyone jostling each other to better get a look at you. Poking and prodding, some even gasping at the feeling of your thundering pulse.Â
He hums, âHere we have a pompous prince known miles around-â And you could tell him and Gojo had already known each other long, with how he was toying with the other man. â-fell hard and fast for a cute lilâ peasant girl much like yourself-â
âSukuna, stop it.â Gojo grits, jaw clenched.Â
â-but, alas. When dear olâ dad the king said ânoâ, he jusâ couldnât cope. So our dear lovers came up with a plan to elope-â
Youâre thrust into the arms of an attractive blond man, almost half of his entire face held together with stitches and bone. Heaving out a sigh in a way you could very much feel akin to, âMeeting up late at night is always a stupid plan, even with all the wine and riches for the road. You might not need much when you have love, but you never know whatâs lurking. And, well, on that dark night, our prince here paid the price.â When you look back at the white-haired man his eyes seemed significantly softer, if that was even possible.Â
Tojiâs the one by your side this time, âPoof! Dropped dead as dust waiting for his dear girl, no evidence, no body, no bride. What a crybaby he was when he arrived. Didnât even want to stay here-â
â-because then he made a promise to wait upstairs.â Another man - with such gorgeous, long hair makes himself known this time. Forehead littered in strange stitches, as if itâd been opened and fixed many, many times. âAnd waited and waited asleep for one hundred years to this day until out of the blue, you came along, sweetness. The lovely bride, to our corpse groom.â
You.Â
And Gojo looks at you like he canât look away.
Lone, standing there with his arms open as the story tapers out. Waiting.Â
Until you came along.
---
âHERE YE, HERE YEâŚFUTURE BRIDE OF ZENIN HOUSE SEEN LURKING IN THE FOREST WITH A MYSTERY MANâ now for the weatherâŚâÂ
âWhat?â your mother hisses at the bellows of the local newsman, well, rumor-spreader, more like. But heâs never been more useful than now. Sneaking an urgent glance at the stunned Dutchess Zenin by her side, she elbows your father, âWe come outside to search for our daughter only to hear this? How could we let this-â
âMaybe itâs a ah- slow news day?â
Theyâre interrupted by a sudden, sharp clearing of oneâs throat - dripping with the distinct tone of condescension that only a member of the Zenin family could possess. âWe are one bride short for the wedding tomorrow. What a scandal!âÂ
âAh!â sheâs gasping. Waving her hands frantically, âW-we promise weâll find her before the wedding-â
âYou better.â
âNo.â Naoya Zeninâs voice was brimming with something dangerous, an eerie, steady lilt of determination to it. But heâs not even looking at anyone in the group, eyes trained firmly on the woody entrance to the forest in the distance. âIâll be the one to find her.â
Finally, something that seems to appease the huffing matriarch.
Only leaving her sullen son with a nod of approval, âAnd NaoyaâŚâ She makes sure the other two bothers were out of earshot, greedily scurrying back to the warmth of the Zenin household. âRemember, the ah- family funds are drying up. Hurry.â
---
Gojo Satoru, you learn, was as nervous about this marriage as you were.
âThis is where I always visited after first dying.â he muses, ice-cold fingers wrapped snugly with yours as he guides you gently through various crooked stairs and skeletons of town. âThe view takes my breath away- well, if I could breathe, that is.â
Youâre startling out a laugh that has both of you surprised, and he turns to you with such breathless awe.Â
âBeautiful.â
âWhat-â your eyes widen - and you donât know whether itâs from his sudden little compliment, or from where you two had finally stopped walking.Â
A steep cliff, overlooking the entire, vast town of multi-color lights. The rigid structure from where you came could never compare. Complete chaos. But as pretty as those paintings you read about in books, views you never thought youâd see.Â
You rest your hands atop the spindly barrier surrounding the very edge, marveling. âIt is beautifulâŚâ
âIt is.â Gojoâs tone is rich, and his eyes never stray from you despite all else there is to drink in. It takes you a few moments of counting all the bustling figures in the distance before you finally mount up the courage to meet his hypnotic gaze.Â
Gojo jolts when you look his way, as if he wasnât expecting it. Hastily, he flusters to pat down the sides of his suit - tattered at places, patchy as if once-pristine but ruined with age. Heâs smiling once he ruffles through his breast pocket, pulling out something glinting.
Youâre letting out a tiny gasp when he shows off a silver, heart-shaped locket. Intricate, obviously custom-tailored - youâd never quite seen anything like it. Positively beaming with all the shine that the rest of him had lost.Â
Treasured.Â
âItâs for you.â
âWhat?â Your jaw falls slack in shock, pushing away Gojoâs held-out hands. But he was ever-persistent. âPlease- I canât, that- that looks like it should be for someone precious.âÂ
âAnd it is.âÂ
This was the firmest youâd heard his sing-song voice, and at your slightest split-second of faltering, he snatches the opportunity to circle his hands around your neck. Deftly clasping it from behind, Gojo only smiles, soft pads of his fingers lingering at your nape. âIâve had it for years.â You wanted to know exactly how many years that meant. âConsider it a wedding gift~â
Your own dust over the cool metal pendant, heart lurching. âIf only you let me know about our wedding in advance, I wouldâve gifted you something, too.â
âHeh, you donât have to.â
âDo tooâ
âDo not.â
âDo too.â You cross your arms, boring your eyes into his. âIâm not going to be an unfit wife.â
Thereâs a second of silence.Â
One.
Two.
And at this point, you half-expected your parents and Naoyaâs to just burst from behind the nearby stairway to tell you this was all some elaborate test - before Gojo just explodes in peels of cackles.Â
âIâm sorry- Iâm sorry I- hah!â heâs barely able to wheeze out, wiping away stray tears of joy. âYou never change, huh-âÂ
It takes the embarrassed tapping of your feet for Gojo to finally straighten back up to his tall figure, muttering out a few more indiscernible phrases underneath his breath. Clearing his throat, âNow who said youâd ever be an âunfit wifeâ, sweetheart- Yâknow I really didnât believe Tojiâs airhead comment but- oh-â
You land a half-hearted punch solidly in his stomach - and usually, youâd think twice, thrice before acting this familiar with anyone. Even then, you wouldnât follow through underneath your motherâs watchful eye.Â
Ah, but youâve never smiled harder when you claim. âI think I won our first argument as a married couple.â
âOh, can you do this fâme when I have an argument with Sukuna, next?â Gojo chuckles, wiggling his brows.Â
He has to dodge your playful hand a few more times - well, he would have had to. But heâs taking them all gladly, pulling you by the wrist to press you flush against his chest. âBut fine, you win. Maybe as a wedding gift we can consumm- Iâm kidding Iâm kidding- follow me, I have the perfect idea.â
And you couldnât not come with him, with the way that Gojo was eagerly dragging you through the town plaza and back into the now-empty tavern, where youâd remembered had a grand piano nestled away.
Gojoâs pulling out the seat for you, before promptly taking his own flush beside you. Nudging you with one of his shoulders, he starts up a beautifully haunting few lower notes. Delicate. âYou donât have to play, you can listen if youâd like-â
âHey, I know this one.â youâre gasping, eyes lighting up with the recognition of that familiar somber from the Zenin house. But something about it this time felt so right.Â
Before you know it, your hands are moving faster than you can hold them back, joining Gojo in his sweeping melody on the higher notes. It rings in the air around you two, jostling your body up against his.Â
âYou know it.â he breathes, such a brilliant grin making way onto his pretty features when you two continue your little duet. And you swear you could hear him suck in a sharp inhale before playing even harder on the keys - a challenge.
And you were never one to back down.Â
âHeh, youâre not half bad-â But his own little boast gets cut off by Gojoâs half-skeletal wrist snapping off, twiddling up, up, up the grand piano and on its merry way around your shoulder. âPardon my enthusiasm, my love.â
You help him reattach it back, an interesting quirk of being half-dead, you suppose. âI like your enthusiasm.â
Thereâs a slow, stuttering silence that echoes afterwards, and youâre shivering from the slightly cold bite of the underground. Gojo wraps his full arm around your shoulder this time, and you donât have the heart to tell him that he was still bone-cold.Â
âHowâŚâ he gulps, barely meeting your eyes. âHow did you know that song?â
But you couldnât tear yours away from him, âOh? That song? Well- before I uh- married you, I was actually engaged-â
His pretty lips fall slack, âOhâŚâ
Youâre not sure why you hasten to explain yourself, âB-but he was a prick- and I threw a wine cup at him just before coming here.â
âThatâs my girl.â Gojo winks, and youâre feeling your skin heat up.
âAnyway, this song was to be played at the wedding. So my mother made me memorize every single note- she failed to tell me it was a duet, however.â
âIt was.â
Something about those two words comes out breathless, barely hanging on. And youâre biting your bottom lip ragged before the question escapes you, âYou were engaged, as well? Before- as a prince- I mean- oh, forget-â
To your surprise, Gojo only chuckles - deep voice breaking ever-so-slightly at the very end. His fingers glide across the piano with a familiar sadness that you canât quite pinpoint. Chest rumbling, âWell, itâs just as the others said. We were meant to run away together, but your dear olâ husband here died just before we could.âÂ
Youâre swallowing the lead thatâd seemed to piled up heavily in your throat, still afraid to push too far. âAnd the- the bride? What happened to her?â
âIâŚdonât knowâŚshe probably saw I wasnât there and went back, had a happier life with a more deserving husband- children, even.â He looks towards the perpetual night sky, Adamâs apple bobbing heftily. âItâs funny- todayâs a hundred years since that day.â
Something hurt. And your chest churned at the thought of him waiting and waiting in the darkness for years. For someone.
âYou loved her?â
He looks at you - really looks at you - and then down at the gleaming locket. âI love her. And I made a promise, I wait for her - in life and death.â
Something really hurt - and it wasnât just that hollow, aching burn in your chest. No, your head was now throbbing with such a splitting pain that you canât help but grab your temple with a yelp. Eyes scrunching shut with tears, trying to down out that drilling thrum.Â
âShit-â youâre hearing, foggy, like it was in the distance. âShit shit shit-â Big arms wrap around you, âAre you alright? Shit-â
The swinging pub doors slam-
âWhat happened?â
âThe bride from upstairs-â
âSheâs still here?! She already dead or what?â
More and more voices are joining in - and youâre not sure if youâre thankful that they drown out that harrowing thunder of blood in your ears or angry that theyâre making it ache more deafeningly in response.Â
âPlease- space.â Gojoâs stern command rings across the plaza, for a moment of clarity youâre thinking that heâd make the perfect leader of sorts. The perfect prince. âMy wife needs space, and you all will leave-â
Nanamiâs strict tremor was distinguishable anywhere. âWhat she needs is to go back upstairs, Gojo.â Another pair of rough hands grasp your shoulders, and you hear a growl from above you. âWith fresh air, with her kind. I donât know what fantasy youâre playing out but she needs to be back with the breathers, down here isnât good for her.â
âBut-â
Just at that unfortunate moment, your head wracks with another painful burst, making you cry out. Clinging onto Gojoâs soft jacket for dear life.Â
âBut sheâs my wife.â
Everyone goes quiet.Â
You were sure he was crying now, and oh how badly you wanted to reach out and comfort him. But, instead, Gojoâs the one soothing a hand down your back, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. He breathes in deep, grounding gasps by the chain of your locket, âN-nanaminâs right- we- I have to get you back.â
Your eyes shoot open, âWhat- no-â
âItâs for your own good.â Pressing a slow kiss to your forehead, âTrust me.â
âBut-â
âPlease?â
---
Gojo Satoru had spent so long in the darkness, that heâd almost forgotten how beautiful the moonlight is.
Even more so when you were by his side.Â
âOhâŚâ And despite not having a beating heart, he swears he could feel it racing at the crisp scrunch! of freshly fallen snow underneath his polished shoes. Arms immediately wrapping around your waist, twirling you to him, âHow I missed the beautiful upstairs.â
Youâre giggling, batting your lashes up at him. âWell, youâre not doing much sightseeing right now, are you, Gojo?â
âPlease.â He rests his icy forehead against yours, waltzing you slowly around the clearing. Your first dance. âCall me Satoru, I would like to part ways having heard my name on your tongue once, than not at all.âÂ
And ah, it hurt him more than that dull, spreading pain of death to simply see your expression crumble. Lower lip wobbling when you whisper, âDo we have to?â
Itâs as if that tiny tremble in your voice jolts him back to his senses, and heâs letting go of you as if you burned. Turning his back so that you wonât see him swipe underneath his dampening eyes, âWe do.â he nods solemnly. Still gazing out through the barren trees, the snow breaking in. âBut I wouldâŚif youâd like- I would really like you to say my name just once.â
Nothing - not one of your quipping insults, not even one of your sweet, sweet giggles. Gojo could barely even hear that shallow breathing of yours.Â
âMy love?â
Nothing.
Gojo whirls around, âMy love?â
Nothing.Â
---
âLet me go let me- go-â you spit, voice dripping with a deadly growl that should decidedly not be used in front of your future in-laws. But you didnât give a fuck right now. âI will never- ah-â
Unceremoniously, youâre thrown like a mere debris in front of Dutchess Zeninâs gold-tipped boots, hands splaying out against the cool marble to dredge up some ounce of balance. You look up into her burning glare, hissing, âI will never marry your son.âÂ
But itâs like youâd never spoken at all.
Sheâs turning to Naoya, stood proudly behind you, holding back his snickers. âAh, my son-â Reaching her arms around to brush off the soft pattering of snow down his coat. â-I see youâve brought your wife back.â
âOf course, mother.â heâs humming. âHad to walk all throughout that crummy forest until I saw her-â At this, heâs turning towards your parents, who could only watch from the sidelines. â-with another man no less- well, canât quite call him that if he didnât even see his woman being dragged off into the dark.â
Dutchess Zenin cackles,and the sound makes you grit your teeth. âThat other man is my husband-â
âWhat?âÂ
Itâs your own mother speaking this time - eyes widened. Fuming. She comes up to you in a few urgent, sharp strides, grabbing at the now-torn and frayed edges of your gown. âWhat nonsense are you speaking-â Sneaking a glance at your father, âOur daughter seems to have lost her mind, dear.â
Heâs just a bit more gentle - cautious, almost. As if confronting a cornered wildcat when he ruffles through your pockets for the ring. Finding none.Â
Youâre wrenching yourself away, âIâm fine- but father, listen- I was practicing my vows in the forest-â Every eye was on you know, and oh youâve never felt more of a spectacle. â-and I put that wedding ring on a tree root- and it- it came alive and oh- he was a groom. A beautiful corpse groom-â
âThat trip to the forest must have bogged up her mind- yes yes, she must be imagining things.â
âOf course, but the weddingâŚpoor dear-â
âThe only thing sheâs good for is the money.â Dutchess Zenin gruffs, tired of hiding her disdain. âAnd maybe a free trip to the hospi-â
âThe wedding will take place.â Naoya cuts in gruffly, snapping his fingers at a nearby attendant and pointing at you. âCall the officiary, and as for my future bride, I donât care if you must force her into that wedding dress, I donât care if you have to drag her here - she will marry me one way or the other. Now.â
Itâs like youâre a puppet - their puppet. Being rapidly walked and bathed about, dolled-up in a white, silken wedding dress that you could never see yourself standing in next to him.Â
It fits you like a glove, attuned to your body as if it was made for you - and you almost hated how beautiful it was, adorned with tiny silver inklings and the most delicate of lace. Made with too much love to be borne out of this dreary household, but when you turned to ask your jittery handmaiden about it, sheâd only cryptically answered about âthe dress being with this family for a long, long time.â
No one here seems to give you answers.
Or grace.
Or anything but locked windows that you crack a nail or two attempting to open and flee and a long, decorated aisle to walk down to your future husband. Naoya.Â
Your throat tightens when youâre stepping back into that hallway - now flourishing with bouquets of blue, blue babyâs breath, and twinkling candles. It was almost colorful, for this town, at least.
You shudder out a teary sigh when the tender piano starts up again - the exact same tune youâd played with Gojo. But cold. And suddenly, youâre realizing that you never asked him how he knew the song.
âPssst! Walk!â Your motherâs high-pitched hiss is enough to snap you out of your little reverie, glassy eyes snapping up to look at her urgent signal to hurry up.
And so you walk, but not to the one man you wanted to.
Naoyaâs smirk lies as smugly as ever when you take your place beside him at the altar, poised, and perfect in his pressed suit, his glinting sword. Whispering snidely from the corner of his mouth. âSmile a little, itâs a wedding after all.â
You keep your gaze trained firmly on the officiary starting his speech, âPerhaps in disappointment, we are perfectly matched.â
âDearly beloved, we are gathered here today to join this man and this bride in holy matrimony-â Gesturing a wrinkled hand at Naoya, âYou may begin first.â
He raises his hand in a solemn oath, razor eyes boring relentlessly into yours. Voice dangerous, humming. âWith this hand, I will lift your sorrows.â This time, he was pointedly the one to pick up that cup on the altar table - a steady, unbreakable metal this time. âYour cup will never empty, for I will be your wine.âÂ
Your trembly fingers wrap around the bottle of wine, starting to slowly pour. âWith this hand, I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never be empty for I- I will beâŚâ
Shit.
Shit, you canât do it.Â
Your words struggle to come out, and you could burn in the sheer anger already wafting from Naoya.Â
âI will- I will be-â
âHow scandalous to marry an already-married woman~!â
The gasp that echoes throughout the hall is almost as deafening as the booming crash! of those towering, mahogany doors being swung open. Clattering against the walls so hard that your teeth chatter with vibration - but you didnât care. Didnât even feel it because youâre too awe-struck by what was standing in front of you.
Or more accurately, who.Â
âSatoru!â The tears are falling hotly down your cheeks, you barely have the patience to lift up your layers upon layers of gauzy skirts before stumbling your way into his arms at the very end of the aisle. Ready. Ever-loving. Catching you easily like heâd been waiting a hundred years for this very moment.Â
âI thought you left me waiting.â he breathes.
âI would never- and- and youâre here.âÂ
âMhmââ
You canât help but let out a laugh, âHow did you even know where to find me?â
âOur duet- there would be no other but this house that would know it-â He wraps his arms even more snugly around your waist, white locks tickling your nose. âAnd you did promise to lift my sorrows, what type of husband would I be if I didnât do the same?â
âYou. You- What- what is the meaning of this?â Dutchess Zeninâs squawk tears through your little moment, sheâs whirling into a furious stand, fists clenched. âMarried woman- husband? Youâre dead!â
Gojo remains calm, sapphire eyes narrowing, âI am.â
But the ever-composed woman youâd feared for so long was now running her mouth a mile a minute, half-ripping out chunks of hair in frustration as the officiary held her back from storming her way towards the two of you.Â
âYouâre dead youâre dead youâre dead-â she screeches, and even Naoya could only watch with his mouth fallen. âYouâre dead- my family made sure of that-â
She stops short, mouth opening and closing in a gasp until you breathe, âM-made sure?â
âYes-â Sheâs fighting against the hold, still muttering to herself maniacally. âShit- we made sure to- oh god why- do we have to kill you all over again! Your wretched Gojo royal family is wiped out- I still- I still have the power, the riches- All because we left you-â
âFor dead.â he whispers. Youâre too shocked to gasp - to do anything but look up at his reaction. âBut she came back to me.â
âHer? This one- Once more you found that insignificant little-â
And at this very moment, Naoya just bellows in a guttural scream, everything his mother was restrained from doing with how heâd closed the gap between you two in a few urgent seconds. One hand wrapped roughly around yours, âI donât care- You forget she was engaged to me first.â
âSheâs still my wife.â Gojo spits.Â
âNot if youâre-â Naoyaâs unsheathing his sword haphazardly. Swinging. âDead!â
Schwingâ!
It would have been sure to hit you.Â
Would have been sure to gravely injure your side - if Gojo hadnât deftly moved himself squarely in front of you, that is. The sharp blade slicing right through his ribs - yet, he still smiles. âYou forget I already am.â In one, fluid motion tackling the sword to holt at its bejeweled hilt - pointed right at Naoyaâs chest. âLet go of me and my wife, before you join me.â
Itâs silence.
Silence and the smell of fear. Sour, and saturated when Naoyaâs stepping away, one unsteady foot after the other-
âI will ruin you as my ancestors have, Gojo brat-â
Dutchess Zenin.
Your body moves before your mind - before any form of thinking, as if on instinct. Yet, you already knew what was coming.Â
And soon enough, youâre standing in front of a stunned Gojo, face splattered with the red, red wine in her silvery cup. Drip! drip! dripping down your stained lips and onto the marbled floors.Â
But something about it tasted bitter.Â
Different.
.
.
.
And all of a sudden - you see dark.
âPoison! By gods, the wine was poisoned!â
âHow will the wedding go on?â
âNo- no no no I just wanted to her sick- to get her willâshit-â
âMy love---listen----hear--me?âÂ
In the foggy distance, you could hear girlish, high-pitched screams that sounded strangely like Naoyaâs, and the familiarly dark chuckle of- Sukuna? Sounding ready to pounce on fresh meat. âHeheh, new arrival - and some unfinished business, huh?â
âSâToruââ youâre whispering, eyes blearily. Heart cold. Suddenly, everything about you was cold. And the only thing you could register right now is the fact that you were still in his arms - always was. âToru- am I- where am I?â
âYouâre here, sweetheart.â he gasps, big fat tears splattering onto your face. The only sense of warmth that you could feel, other than the one in your no-longer-beating heart. And you canât help but wonder - can a heart be broken even when it stops beating? Because he was living two deaths now - his own - laying there poisoned with wine so long ago on the forest floor, with only the Zeninâs to watch, and you to wait for him much later - and most importantly, yours. âYouâre- youâre here, with me.â He places a sweet, sweet kiss onto your lips. âRest now, Iâll wait for you. I promise- I promise.âÂ
And through your hazy vision, the only thing that you could quite see was that silver locket youâd never thought to look through, out of fear - sprung open. Baring two grainy, clouded portraits - as good as a photo.Â
Of himÂ
AndâŚyou.Â
âIâll always wait for you, in life and death.â
---
âHey- Toruââ your voice rings out in Gojoâs favorite song, peering curiously at the boyishly grinning prince. âDo you think Iâll be an unfit wife?â
He throws his head back with a cackle, peering through his long lashes from where he was resting his head in your lap. âWhat- no? Whatever makes you think that, silly girl?â
Youâre settling yourself further down the young oak - your favorite little hiding spot ever since youâd introduced your secret lover to it. Grumbling half-jokingly, you thread your fingers through his soft, snow-white hair. âWell perhaps because someone refuses to help me do anything in preparation for tonight-â
âShhh!â Gojoâs bringing a finger to his lips, glancing around over-dramatically. âYou never know when my father will be jumping from behind the bushes.â At your amused laughter, âNâ besides, doesnât matter if weâre going to elope, Iâm not letting my wife pick up a thing.â
âWhat- no-â
âIâll snag my wedding suit- and that specially-made dress for you heh- and get the attendants to sneak out some leftovers from the banquet. The Zenin family has just gifted some wine I know youâll love.âÂ
Craning his head to press a slow kiss to your forehead, âWeâll drink, weâll say our vows- you better have memorized them this time-â And another on your nose, âThen Iâll have you drunk in another way~ ow! Okay okay- donât hit royaltyâ! And run away to our happily ever after.â Then, finally, lingeringly on your mouth,âTrust me.â
âBut-â
âPlease?â
Youâre fiddling with the chain around your hefty, heart-shaped locket with a huff, finally caving in. âFine- but then-â Deftly unclasping it, â-you have the responsibility of keeping this safe, too, I have to teach piano to the little ones in town again today, and if anyone catches me with a piece like this Iâll be hanged for thievery before ever getting married.â
âOur duet?â
âOur duet.â
He twirls that delicate pendant around his fingers, brows scrunching in half-seriousness. âIâll protect it with my life-â Almost flinging it towards the end of the clearing in his haste to salute you, âAh- pardon my enthusiasm, my love.â
âI like your enthusiasm, dummy.â youâre rolling your eyes at his antics. âBut what if Iâm late? The music lessons always take so longâŚâ
âJust meet me here at our place - promise Iâll wait for you, of course. In life and death.â
You never did find out if Gojo Satoru waited for you.
You never found him that night - running late to the clearing, only to be met with no sign of him. Not that night. Not the night after. Night after night, you waited for him - watched as the Gojo royal family fell and the Zeninâs raided their palace, as the town started to grow and you stayed the very same.
With stray hope, even in your final ages, waiting for him and the marriage that wonât take place.
Not for a hundred years.
---
Youâre waking up remembering the feeling of those cold, cold lips on yours.Â
Finally, remembering.
âSa-Toru-â youâre gasping, gulping in heavy lungfuls of air before you realize - you donât need it anymore. Eyes startling open, you wince at the even the dim, heady lighting overhead. âIâmâŚâ
âDead.â
His words are gentle - just above a whisper, as if anything else will scare you off. But his words have the complete opposite reaction, in fact, youâre reeling him in so close by the silvery lapels of his weathered jacket. Wedding suit meeting your wedding dress.
You feel over his broad chest, and then over yours. Breathing out in awe, âI- I really am dead.â
Gojoâs wincing, running the soft pads of his fingers down your scalp. Massaging, âHow- how do you feel, my love?â
Too-late youâre realizing that youâre splayed out on what seems like a plush, engulfing bed. Blankets upon blankets of velvety fabrics covering the surface, like someone had tried their very best to replicate warmth.Â
âI think I feelâŚâ youâre muttering, the very corners of your painted lips turning upwards at the way that Gojo was hanging onto your every word. Pretty mouth dropped into a soft oh! eyes wide and true. You just canât help but drag him into the tightest embrace your joints could possibly handle. â-that I havenât spent enough alone-time with my husband.â
He laughs - he laughs and laughs like he hasnât before, like itâd been bubbling up in his throat for years and finally set free.Â
âOh, my love.â Gojo reveres, pressing a trail of hot kisses down the side of your face. Lingering in a languid lick where big, salty tears of yours were welling up. âWe have all the time in the world- I just- just- do you remember?â
Youâre pretending to think, leaving him careening at all your minute expressions. Finally cracking, âOf course, I remember- all of it, dummy-â Swatting his chest, âWhy didnât you tell me?â
Heâs gulping heavily, âI always knew that- that it was you the moment I saw your face- you look exactly as you did. Exactly as beautiful as the day I lost you, after all.â Cupping your cheek, âAnd oh, sweetheart, what a blessing it would be to marry you. But how could I ever tell you when you didnât even remember me? How could I so selfishly ask you to throw away something so dear as life for me? Even for a promise?â
âI would have done it.â youâre pouting, brows scrunching.Â
âExactly.âÂ
âI waited for you, yâknow. For years, until my death. No âdeserving husbandâ, and no children.â
He gasps a tiny, meaningful gasp. And for all how Gojo loved to run his mouth, right now he only presses a sultry kiss to your forehead, âBut in this life, or the last, or whatever comes next-â On your nose now, â-Iâll wait for you. Always have, always will.â Finally - yearningly - on your mouth, âIn life and in death.â
Gojo kisses you like heâs been waiting a hundred years for it - and would wait a hundred more before he can again.Â
Pressing one, two. Three steamingly hot, open-mouthed on your spit-glossed lips before moving to trail them down the underside of your jaw. Dragging his raw lips in a messy glide, heâs tittering when all it takes is one sudden bite at the soft spot on your neck to get you to jump.Â
âHeh- you never change-â he murmurs into your heated skin, licking down the sting with a slow spread of his tongue.Â
âT-Toruââ youâre managing to gasp out despite his relentless attack on your mouth. Making him wrench out such a pained grunt when you pull his face back ever-so-slightly to look into Gojoâs eyes. âArenât you forgetting something?â
Gojo can only cock his head in confusion, gaze still half-lidded and locked on your lips.Â
âYouâre forgetting your promise from all those years agoââ youâre dragging out in a honeyed-tone, giggling at the way his hulking body squirms impatiently. â-to consummate our marriage.â
And oh.
Oh, Gojo Satoru feels heâs dying six times over already.Â
He feels like his bleary head is about to go into overdrive - as was the sudden tightening in his pants.Â
âW-well thenâŚâ heâs rasping out, voice so ragged, dipping into a husky baritone that for a second you almost donât recognize it. Two of his long fingers cup your face once more - rougher this time, making your lips squeeze together into an almost-embarrassing oh! âOpen that mouth fâme, my love.â
You barely even realize it when you do - not until Gojoâs spitting a thick, translucent wad of his syrupy saliva right onto your lolling tongue.Â
Nodding smugly when youâre taking him all, heâs swiping the curve of his thick thumb down that purposeful splatter on the corner of your lips. Because you knew the prince of a nation should have perfect aim, you knew he just liked seeing your dewy eyes flutter.Â
Whispering hoarsely against your lips, âI ask you to be mine.â
âYes-â youâre whining, your hands scrambling down the decadent fabrics of his suit. âYes yes yes- please- n-need more, Toru-â
And the sound of that cute lilâ nickname youâd made for him in that sweetened tone makes Gojoâs entire body wrack with a violent shudder. Head throwing back, white lashes flickering shut- âO-oh, shit- shit youâre gonna be the death of me-â
But whatever little joke playing on your tongue just dissipates when Gojoâs shedding his outer coat off slowly. Bloodied, silken jacket hitting the ground- bloodied? Youâll have to ask about that later.
And then his mouth is on yours again - teeth clashing, tasting metal, his pretty lips wrapping around your hot tongue to just suck. Lazily, like his favorite candy.Â
âSo beautiful-â his words puff out in a feverish pant. Chest huffing - no, heaving - you can only keen when you feel something so hard and massive nudge up in a gentle kiss against your high. âSo perfectââ The sodden curve of his achy tip dragging in a wet smear down your leg. âSo mine.â
As soon as youâre blinking your dazed eyes back open, youâre hit with what looked like miles upon miles of Gojo Satoru. Curving muscles sitting prettily and casting shadow in the low lighting - it made you just drool.Â
Shit, when did he even take his shirt off?
âHeh, already so needy, sweetheart?â He kisses up the glossy trickle, groaning into your mouth, âSo cuteââ
But, of course, you werenât exactly one to be pushed around, either.
With a low purr, you cup that bulging tent right in-between his muscled thighs. Fingers skimming over inches upon inches of his girthy, solid shaft - he just gasps. âO-oh, you little minx- do you enjoy p-playing with my hngh- sanity?â
With a snicker, it doesnât take you long to smudge the pads of your digits at that thickly spreading pool of precum. Glossing a thin sheen all the way down to your wrists with how fucking greedily he was throbbing at your touch.Â
âF-fuck-â heâs hastily clearing his throat as soon as it breaks off into a pathetic whine. Hips bucking forwards in mindless, staggering gyrations into your hand like Gojo didnât even realize what he was doing right now. âFuck fuck fuck- honey, I-â
The neediest little grunts spill from his puffed-up lips, and heâs moving urgently - hastily, when sitting upright to all but rip that bejeweled belt off of his slender waist. Tugging his white pants down, down, down and-
Oh.Â
âFuck, Toru.â
Gojo was so unfairly pretty - all of him.
Even every single inch of his long, thick shaft, smeared with glistening precum sobbing out from his fat, round head. Blushed darker than the rest of him - matching his innocent cheeks right now. So hard it looked painful.Â
Twitching over and over in saturated gushes coating his prominently throbbing veins, his tight balls. Your fingers.Â
Wrapping tight around his flushed base, he was so incredibly big that youâre worried your fingers wouldnât even close. Scratching up against those drenched tufts of cloudy white at his toned pelvis, the sight is enough to make you gulp.Â
âYes-â Gojoâs rasping, head thrown back because shit did it feel good to have your pretty lilâ fingers all wrapped around him. Hips stuttering up, up, up- âYes yes yes- câmon- c-câmon my wife-â
Shit, those words spilling from his lips are enough to steer into such a loud moan, and heâs letting his jaw fall unhinged. Jaw-droppingly powerful back muscles flexing when he falls into a hunch, kissing wetly at your lips.Â
âTighter- squeeze ah, squeeze me at my tip-â Gojoâs babbling, drunken eyes so thoroughly locked on where you were pumping your fist back and forth. âY-yeah hngh- and glide your thumb over justââ
Youâre swiping the very tip of your thumb underneath that sensitive slit of his, the slightest touch enough to make him bawl out in a dripping sheen of precum. Reddening even more, his hefty girth in your hand jolts sensitively.Â
âS-sâthisââ you stagger out, wrist aching when youâre moving it faster. And faster. Ears ringing with the sloppy fap! fap! fap! of your fingers clenching around his thick, circular girth, the splatters of precum itâs forcing from him. Kissing gently down his burning shoulder, âSâthis good, Toru?â
And god, how dare you even ask that?
With a sudden groan, he crashes his lips into yours again. Addicted. Growling against your whiny mouth, youâre flinching at the nip of his sharp canines.Â
âOh, yer perfect-â heâs blinking back big, fat tears from behind those glassy eyes. And the soft plane of his palms dance ravenously down your body - all your curves, your dips where your wedding dress was hiking up. But most importantly at your sopping wet cunt. â-so so- p-perfect- any harder nâ mâgonna make ya a pretty momma right now, right here.â
His words come out a burst - a beg.Â
In that very heady moment heâs just bullying his thick digits past your soaked pussy - absolutely useless with how fucking translucent it was. Sticking to your sopping wet folds like a second skin that he wanted to rip off.Â
âS-so oh!â Sucking in a sharp gasp at the sight of that tiny lace wrapped around his fingers, âSuch a pretty cunt, wearinâ such a dirty lilâ thing, naughty girl- who was this for?â
And you couldnât dare bear to wrench your lips open, to meet that dark glint in Gojoâs gaze. Hooded, such a slow, leering grin growing all over his face when the seconds tumble by. When your softened fingers falter around his length.
âWho was this for?â heâs echoing. âNâ no lying to your h-husband.â
âToru-â
âTell me, my pretty wife.â
âIt was-â youâre mewling out, choking on your tiny confession when he slides his index solidly down the drippingly wet purse of your swollen pussy lips. Puffed-up and sensitive against where he was rubbing that cool metal ring against them. â-w-was for ngh- N-Naoya- but it was Dutchess Zenin that made me-â
Oh, but fuck - it didnât matter who made you wear those sinful panties.Â
Because itâs only taking Gojo Satoru a split-second to crane his hot mouth downwards and bite down on the very hem of your saturated panties. Biting the edge of your skin only slightly - before just tearing the fabric off with his very teeth.Â
He takes a few seconds with his greedy gaze boring into yours, crazed. Canines bared glintingly around that tender lace, he just groans.Â
Eyes rolling to the back of his head before spitting it out - and kissing you like youâve never been kissed before.Â
âH-hngh, Toruââ youâre moaning, your fingers half-cramping up with the way they were turning around his swollen cock. Swiveling around the heated bumps of his sensitive spots, the drag of your nails gently down his veins make him shiver. âFeels so- ah!â
And ah, for how much Gojo loved those saccharine sweet moans in your ear, how much he loved teasing you - he was hungry.Â
Shoveling all the way into your gummy channel, until your puffy pussy lips were kissing his very knuckles, gushing out in spurts of wet slick down his wrist. Twirling those cold digits, so stark against how toasty you were inside.Â
It made Gojoâs thickened tip twitch in your fingers, huffing out a humorless laugh when he was easily knocking against that bulbous bullseye of your g-spot. Pressing down. Hard.Â
âMhmââ heâs purring, nosing down the tender crook of your neck. âTell me how it feels- hngh- gotta tell me- fuck oh fuck donâ squeeze me like that- ah-â
Heâs just wrenching out the most dripping squelches with each rummaging pump into your melty cunt, your walls were just molding around his digits. Sucking him back in like youâre trying to milk out something delicious- fuck, how he wished this was his achy cock right now, instead.
Gojoâs biting down hard at that magical spot on your neck, sending shocks of electricity down your sluttily arched spine. âCanât- hah- canât take it anymore- shit- needa be inside you soon. Needa fill ya up soon.â
And he didnât even have to tell you - you could feel it.Â
Building up and up with every relentless such of his glistening fingers. Glossy.Â
âNeed to make you mine-â heâs gasping, heatedly. Tone cracking on almost a bawl, his hips are fucking into your hand like his little cocksleeve, up all the way from weepy head down to thwack into his pulsing base. Fingers bumping messily into his taut, twitchy balls - making Gojoâs mouth water. âNeed to- hngh- need to make you cum! Please-â
Tears crinkling at the very ends of his doe eyes, after every single crash along your sweet spot. Thorough wet glides. âPlease please please-â
And itâs whispered over and over like a mantra when youâre cumming - again and again, so hard that you didnât even realize youâre reaching your high before your tight pussy clamps around his fingers.Â
âYeah- yeah yeah, cum all over my fingers.â Heâs thrusting his fingers in and out so rabidly, hitting all your forbidden spots. Free hand pushing apart your quivering thighs even further, âSpread wide- heheh, yeahhhââ
Those sudden slurps sounded so thunderous in your ears, and your maw sags open deliriously in a higher-pitched ah! ah! ah! Grinding your hips down over and over in needy swivels, using him. Music to his ears, making his staggering erection just weep so dangerously- but he canât cum.Â
Wonât cum just yet.Â
Not until heâs fucked you through each and every one of your peaks, not until your convulses are tapering out into nothing but tiny tingles.Â
And then heâs dragging out his ruined fingers from your sodden cunt - out, out, out. Snapping delicate strings of the mess heâs made of your poor pussy, before pushing them through his lips rawly.Â
âM-mmm-â heâs rumbling from the very depths of his broad chest, pecs heaving. And through your half-lucid gaze, youâre spying a silvery dribble of drool down the side of his lips. Moaning at the sweet, sweet taste. âShit- shit, sweetheart-â
You canât even react before heâs then spitting a steady stream of wispy saliva down to your sloppy hole, swirling it around with one of his thumbs.Â
âBetter let her know mâcoming back for seconds later.â
You whine all brattily, your hips arching into the perfect buck upwards - which only makes him grin. âHeh- my greedy girl, if I waited one hundred years ya can wait a few seconds.â
Itâs so admonishing - and Gojo has never told a bigger lie.Â
Because heâs the one thatâs so painfully impatient right now, angry cock spewing out a few more velvety waves of precum down your gleaming palm. A low string of profanity rips from his throat, and heâs just diving his hands around every inch of your body he could reach.
Deftly untangling those tedious ties at the back, âDamn these little- forgot how many ribbons I fuckinâ- ordered-â
In split-seconds, youâre being flipped over with one fluid push of Gojoâs biceps, sinking your front into the royally soft mattress. You felt like you were in heaven.
âToruââ youâre whirling your head over your shoulder to admire just how much his biceps flex. Twitching with each eager rip down your bodice. Shaky fingers tightening on the silken sheets, âH-hurry up-â
âEasy there, my love.â
Itâs ragged, breathed hotly against your ear, and suddenly Gojoâs resting every bit of his body weight on top of yours to pin you down helplessly onto the bed. Holding your squirming hips captive onto one rough hand attached to them, âArch jusâ a bite more- please- fuuuck like that yeah-â
Heâs taking the opportunity to fling your wedding dress down easily, bunching it somewhere towards the corner of the bedroom - right alongside your bra and inner layers.Â
Youâre gasping - stunned.Â
âDonât l-look at me like that, Iâve had one hundred hah- years to practice this exact moment with my hand nâ imagination-âÂ
And then Gojoâs gasping, heâs snapping his eyes open, heâs heaving out the most whiny call of your name when you push your hips back in a wet slide against his painfully hard cock.Â
Your folds smacking wetly against his shaft, dragging in a dripping trail along his veins - and shit, Gojo really underestimated how fucking hot youâd feel against his cock. How readily awaiting when his slender hips rut down in a furious push and pull. âThis is long overdue.â
âHey!â you jut your spit-sheen lower lip out when heâs rudely smacking away your hand from the clasp of your locket. âWhaâs that for?â
âKeep it on.â Gojo nips at your earlobe.
And then heâs spitting you open - heâs pushing in.Â
Inch by fucking inch of his swelteringly hot cock being shovelled into your gooey cunt, stretching out your snug walls to their limits. Pulled taut. Barely giving an apologetic kiss to the side of your head before Gojoâs circling one big beefy arm around your hips, easily tilting your entire body upwards for him to surge his hips even deeper.Â
He gasps, he shudders at the faintest of your wet clenches. âCâmon-câmon câmon câmon- a-ah- you can take it please- please take it fâme.âÂ
How could you not?
Because every one of his tiny, shallow grinds just to fit in have your mouth dropping further and further open cockdrunkenly.Â
âPlease-â your hands fist at the plushy pillows, the headboards, craning behind at Gojoâs neck. âFuck me h-harder, Toru- I can-â
âOhhh- you play a hah- dangerous game.â He swipes away the stray hairs on your forehead, kissing at your sweat-slicked forehead. âMy beautiful bride- my beautiful, beautiful bride - ah- almost makes me wanna m-make you more.â
Just that split-second of sultry shock is enough for Gojo to push in fully - all the way until your thighs sting with the sudden thwack! of his hefty, cum-filled balls, your folds kissing up against his thickened base.
Heâs hissing when his achy, rounded tip recoils ever-so-slightly against the spongy mess of your cervix, hitting it relentlessly in harsh jackhammer. Spearheading his fat cock to massage up against all your sensitive spots in a more dizzying way than even his fingers could.Â
âWh-what do you m-mean-â Theyâre falling from your mouth as hastily as Gojo can pump you stuffed full of his cock. Not even easing into it, starting up a sloppy cadence. â-b-byââ
âAwww, donâ hngh- p-push yourself, my loveââ heâs simpering out. But oh his hips were speaking a completely different language from how soothing your husbandâs tone was, one hand curling deftly around your throat to reel you in even harsher in sudden swats against his ever-pushing hips. Twirling around the chain of your locket, âWhat I mean isâŚâ
Both of your half-lidded gazes are downturned to where he feels for that tiny nudge at about halfway down your stomach. Drawing an imaginary line about halfway through, before splaying down all five digits. Hard. â-that mâgonna make ya a pretty momma as well as my pretty wife.â
This little confession is followed by a particularly hard slam! from Gojoâs end, and you dart your hand out to grasp desperately onto the wooden headboard.Â
Crying out, âIs- is that even possible, Toru?â
But the only actual response that Gojo can give - that he thinks himself capable of giving right now, with how mind-numbingly your pretty pussy was milking any rationality out of him - is a breathless chuckle. His head throwing back with a whimper, brows knitting together. âI donât know hah! Havenât got a fuckinâ clue- but that doesnât mean mânot gonna fucking tryââ
And he was fucking you into the mattress just like it, well and fully intent on breeding your tight cunt. Jostling the locket at your chest with rough, reckless abandon. Every sodden drag down your slobbery walls having those dreams from a lifetime ago about your happily every after playing through his mind.
You, with your drooling pussy painted all white with his potent cum, making such a mess of him that he just has to do it all over again, of course.Â
You, all round and glowing - full of him, his heir.Â
You, looking up at him with those gorgeous eyes - another, tinier set held delicately in your hands. His hair, and your smile. Everything that heâs ever wanted in life and death.Â
Stupidly. Pussydrunkenly.Â
âOh oh-â Gojoâs groaning, the sudden bump of your fingers against the sensitive curve of his balls making him jolt back into his reality. His heavenly, heavenly reality. âAww, have I b-been neglecting you, my love?â
No, you want to scream - but you canât.Â
Because heâs only hiking up a powerful thigh to pressurize his harrowing rams with even more power, and you could feel every flex and ripple of his washboard abs. The spatter of pearlescent beads of sweat setting in with fatigue.Â
But Gojo wouldnât listen in the first place, couldnât even think of anything that didnât stem from his achy cock pummeling into you.Â
Messily, heâs swiping at those fingers of yours that were currently reaching for your angrily puffy clit, aching for more more more-Â
Giving a mean little smack onto where your sensitive nub was drenched in all your sweetened juices, it sends bolts of electricity all over your body. Clinging your gummy walls around his girth so tight.Â
âThis what y-you wanted?â he rasps by your ear, drawing slow, determined circles on the very peak of your clit. And when that doesnât have you crying out all prettily for him the way he wanted - Gojo just tugs. Unapologetically. âTell me- ngh- tell me how it feels, fuck- can feel this cunt gettinâ so soaked-â
âYes-â youâre sobbing out. Hips now aching with the burn of pushing back into his unrelenting hips - it hurts almost. The sting of his skin against you, the hard collision of his fat head against your cervix. But you want more. âY-yes feels so good, Toru- need more hngh- need you t-toâŚâ
âWhat?â heâs spitting. Wild. âTell me, sweetheart- please- please-â
And, hell, Gojo Satoru wanted to hear so badly that heâs just slowing his hips down every so slightly to let you catch your breath. To answer.Â
But what he was actually blessed with was another one of your long, drawn-out whines. Grumbling ever-so-slightly as you jolt your hips back with every one of the thorough swivels of his fingers on your clit. Toying.Â
Fucking back harder than ever into his rock-hard dick, the locket just slams itâs cool branding onto the heated skin of your chest-
âNeed you to f-fill me up-â you mutter wetly, nothing more than a few gurgles wrenched out when his clashing head French-kisses your g-spot. Drawing wet glides of his steamy precum down it. â-make me a hngh- m-momma, Toru-â
Oh, this might just be his third death ever.Â
Because the bed creaks riotously with every one of his ragged rams, in a way that made you glad for the ever-present music of this town.Â
Over and over.
âYeah- shit, gonna make you a p-pretty momma-â heâs babbling away, a mile a minute. So sloppy that youâre barely able to understand what Gojo was saying. âFill you- up- ngh- so theyâll look at you and see me. All me- all pretty and r-round- me me me- ohââ
Right now, Gojo didnât give a fuck if his little dream was even possible. He didnât give a fuck if his moans were turning into whimper, staggering thrusts trudging into the sloppiest of grinds. The neediest.Â
Because right now you were cumming.Â
That rapid throb of your clit increasing twofold when youâre finally plummeting into your high, wave after wave of pleasure that he fucks you through with heavy pound after pound.Â
Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, toes curling, flashes of white flitting behind your firmly shut eyes. Fuck, it felt so good.Â
And your fingers clench hard around where they were still firmly stationed on the headboard to keep at least an ounce of your sanity. Intertwining with- Gojoâs when he slams his hand down hard enough that the entire bed shudders.Â
Or maybe that was just him - because so was he.Â
âF-finally-â Gojoâs hiccuping, angling his head just right to be able to catch your pretty lips in what could barely be considered a kiss. Just a sloppy suck of your tongue while he pumps you snugly full of sloshing loads of his cum. âWanâed this for- so long- finally hngh- consummate- you- most beautiful ah momma-â
His whines were nonsensical at this point, only growing more and more so with each velvety ribbon of cum being poured around into your tight pussy. You could feel it swashing about your soft walls with every one of your hard, convulsing clenches, painting your insides over and over again in a second, sticky skin of his seed.Â
âYeah- fuck fuck fuck, yeah Toru- hah- m-more-â
And just when Gojo thought the almost-painful clenches of his heavy balls were coming to a close, just when he thought his thick streams of voluminous cum were stretching out into thinner wisps - you have to go and say those syrupy sweet words.Â
Fuck.Â
Heâs gasping, locking his finger with yours even harder on the headboard, âGonna- ngh- gonna be the death of me I s-swearââ
Oh, and then you looked at him with that fucked-out smile of yours. A sight heâs gifted to see. Humming, âIn life and in death, r-remember?â
Bang!Â
The headboard crashes down onto the floor. Your back is hitting the now utterly drenched sheet below you before the realization hits you.Â
In nothing but a split-second, Gojo pulls out his dangerously twitching cock to manhandle you flatly onto your back. Swiftly, he throws your legs over the curvaceous deltoids of his sculpted shoulder, easily bending you down, down, down into half.
Into the meanest mating press possible.
Dredges of thick, hot cum just ooze down your sopping slit, spreading in a milky circle underneath you. And slobbering down Gojoâs swollen hilt as soon as he plugs himself back in - immediately.
The very divot at the end of his cock quivering - for only a split-second before bursting out in streams of more and more cum. Overflowing. Overspilling out of you.
And he canât help but glide an open palm over that tiny inflation beginning to form where heâd drawn a line just earlier. One hand pressing down on it hard, the other tweaking at your clit to make your walls clench.Â
âOh f-fuck yeahââ Gojo stutters at the glossy coating of his own seed all around him. Reveling in the toasty feeling again and again until his poor, overworked cock can only sputter out wispy strings of nothing. Shooting blanks. âGonna breed ya- make ya all round and and- ngh full until you c-canât take anymore. Until we hahh- have that happy ending y-you wanted.â
You mewl when heâs licking away those glistening tears rolling down your cheeks, â-happy ending w-we wanted hngh- Toruââ
âYeah-â he chuckles. Pecking at your lips with that salty sweet taste on his tongue, âWe wanted. Itâs why I didnât reincarnate like you, my love, unfinished hngh- business here sâto spend a long, long and happy marriage with you, yâknow?â
You bat your lashes in sweet disbelief, âThatâs- thatâs mine, too.â
Ah, he reels you in even closer into his arms. Snug. Ever-loving. Seemingly like heâd never let you go ever again - couldnât bear to.Â
He nuzzles against that now-open locket, eyes peering down at those bleary paintings of you two, as loving as if they were taken just today. And in the back of his fried mind, he makes a note to take newer photos for later. Fingers tracing their familiar pathway to press down on the outer edges of the metal - in only the way he knew how, in the way that you should have been taught all those years ago, but was never able to.Â
âThen-â His eyes light up as they always did whenever it came to you, when the tiny mechanisms on the locket open up to reveal a delicate, gorgeous ring. Strangely matching his own. Gojo doesnât think heâs done anything easier in his life when he slides that ring onto your finger, fitting so perfectly. Not even when he was waiting for you, not even when heâd taken care of Naoya in a way that left his coat spattered and stained with red. â-weâre both lucky.â
Itâs only after a few soft, lingering kisses that Gojo finally pulls away - like it hurt to.
And it did, sensitive shockwaves erupting down his overwhelmed length. But none of that shows above his drunken grin when Gojoâs shuffling down the bed, all the way until his hot breath was puffing up feverishly against your sloppy cunt.Â
Messy. Drooling.
Making such an utter mess on his tongue when he lets it loll out, swiping up the gushing creamy dredges with a long lick. It was so filthy, dribbling down the sides of his mouth, onto his pinkish tongue-
Just a tease for more.Â
âBecause I keep my promises, my wife.â his murmur wraps all around your thrumming clit. Tongue swirling a milky gloss all over his pert, raw lips. Only wanting more. Waiting. âIn life and in death.â
A/N. THIS- THIS WAS SO FUN TO WRITE Nâ GOT ME IN MY FEELSSSS. Hope yâall have a lovely lovely week <3
Plagiarism not authorized.
#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#tonywrites
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Simon helps you put on your heels
cw: simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader
"Simon, can you help me love?"
Your back was facing simon, head turned to look at him behind your shoulder.
He was in the middle of buttoning his shirt, a chuckle rumbling out of his chest as he stepped closer to you â calloused hands running along your back, savoring the feeling of his hands on your soft skin. He lowered his head and planted a kiss your shoulder, making the small hairs on the back of your nape rise and a whine fall past your lips.
"Simon." You'd huff out softly, pouting at him for being such a tease.
"Sorry darlin', you just look so beautiful."
He whispered lovingly, planting one more gentle kiss on your exposed shoulder before zipping up your dress.
"You're stunning, love." Simon hummed as he looked at you through the mirror, his hands resting on your hips as he kissed the top of your head.
"We're gonna be late if you keep this up Simon."
"I wouldn't mind that."
You rolled your eyes, wriggling yourself out of his grasp as you walked to where your heels were. Simon followed closely behind, hooking his arm around your waist to stop you from bending down to grab your heels.
"I'll do it for you love."
Simon purred softly, kneeling on one leg as his hands guided your feet to slip into your heels, planting a tender kiss on your knee as you giggled at the soft affection.
"Siâ"
You gasped when his lips went further up your leg, immediately grabbing his scalp and pulling him away â a grin on his face as your frowned.
"We can't be late Simon!"
You'd remind him and he'd huff playfully, still smiling as he got up onto his feet and press a kiss on your temple.
"After the party then love?"
"Fine." You'd roll your eyes, but your frown couldn't last when he kept peppering kisses all over your face.
Sneaky bastard, knew exactly how to rile you up and then calm you down. (And he definitely got what he wanted after the party)
ă Masterlist â¤ď¸ ă
#cod x reader#cod fluff#cod x you#cod#cod mw3#fluff#reader#x reader#cod modern warfare#cod x y/n#cod x fem!reader#cod x female reader#reader x cod#simon ghost x reader#ghost hc#ghost headcanons#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#ghost cod#ghost#simon riley fluff#simon fluff#simon riley#simon riley x you#simon#simon riley x reader#date night#x y/n#x y/n fluff
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Third Wheel
Dark!SatoSugu x reader
(Warnings: Yandere, dark content, dark, misogynistic language, delusional behavior, kidnapping, blood, violence, +ShokoHime x reader, choking (not in the sexy way tho), threesomes, oral!F!recieving)
Synopsis: Regardless of what Satoru and Suguru tell you, you've always felt left out in this relationship. But when you leave, you quickly find out there's no line your ex-lovers won't cross to get you back
Word Count: 7.3k
When you come home that night, they're already cuddled together, watching TV.Â
It's cute. Your boyfriends were always so loose with their affection. When Suguru was cooking, Satoru would lean on his back, more than happy to talk his ear off. Suguru would hold Satoru's waist, steadying him, being his anchor. At night, you'd catch them reaching for each other, trying to hold hands even in their sleep.Â
It's clear to even the blind: they are soulmates.Â
And you were just extra baggage.Â
You don't know how you caught their eyes, but this past year was fun. They've been sweet, both of them have. Inviting you into their lives, into their home, into their bed. Everything moved so fast, but you didn't mind. You were young and a bit spontaneous. Two beautiful men showing a glimpse of interest in you wasn't something you could pass up. This was nice, while it lasted.Â
But unlike them, you aren't forever. Their bond would never come close to anything they could have with you.Â
It took a while for you to accept that, but eventually, you did.Â
"Hey, babe," Satoru calls. "Rough day?" He lazily waves you over. Suguru grunts, before shifting over to make space.Â
Despite it all, you're a coward. You don't announce it; you just stare at them. Fondly. Yes, this was nice. You don't think you could handle telling them, though; that would be too much. Seeing how little they cared would break you.Â
"Yeah." You give. "Rough day."Â
You weave through the house. It's theirs. Not yours. That they've made clear. You're an afterthought. It's the little things. Their toothbrushes are together, yours on the other side of the sink. Their shoes were neatly stacked side by side, and yours were always tucked away in a corner. Left out. Forgotten. Why wouldn't it be like that? They've been together for years. You were still an outsider.Â
You only have a little to grab. You just grab your extra clothes, the hair clips you have a terrible habit of leaving around. Just a few items. And then the bedroom looks like you'd never been there at all.Â
When you come back out, they don't notice your suitcase. Satoru laughs loudly at something happening on screen. Suguru chides him sternly. Good. It's better this way, you think as you take your suitcase to your car. You don't need any additional heartbreak.Â
You make a few more rounds, collecting everything you need. Suguru only catches you when you are about to leave their house forever.Â
"Angel?" He calls. "Where are you going?"Â
He's looking at you, head tilted in mild curiosity. You manage to smile, looking down at your car keys.Â
"Out for a drive." You shrug. "I'll be back."Â
Suguru takes it at face value. He lets you go with a small 'have fun'. The walk to the car is heavy. Metal dumbbells on your shoulders.Â
When you get in the seat, you finally allow yourself to sob.Â
~
I'm sorry, I just can't do this anymore
That's how you ended the wall of text before blocking them. It was the coward's way out.Â
"No." Utahime's quick to tell you. "It's the only way. Those bastards would've never let you go otherwise."Â
You shouldn't be so quick to listen to her, considering she hates them both. Still, she was more than happy to offer you her home while you picked yourself back up, and started looking for an apartment. You'll humor her for the time being.Â
"She's right," Shoko pipes up. Her dark circles are even more prominent tonight. You guiltily think it has more to do with you than with her patients, but she and Utahime have insisted that you stay with them.Â
"It was for my sake, more than theirs." You say honestly, tucking yourself into the couch. "They...don't care about me. At least, not like they do each other."Â
Utahime rolls her eyes. "You are blind." She says. "Those two were obsessed with you. I'm just glad you got out while you could."Â
You laugh, but it beats crying all over again. Utahime doesn't find what she said as funny. She chides you again, something about being oblivious before she settles down to watch the movie she put on. Shoko falls asleep right at the intermission. Her head falls against your shoulder. Utahime leans against you too. And it's nice to have friends to fill the void they left.Â
~
Satoru appears first.Â
You woke up later than you would have liked. Your eyes are itchy and red from crying all night. Utahime was more than happy to give you her guestroom, but you know you can't take advantage of her kindness for too long. Tomorrow, you'll start apartment hunting.Â
Today, you'd sit on the couch and eat ice cream.Â
When you go downstairs, you hear a hushed whisper. Utahime's by the door, using her body to keep someone out. She looks angry.Â
"-No one's here but me. Now get the fuck off my property." She seethes.Â
You recognize his voice. You aren't ready. "Have you heard anything? Anything at all?"Â
"No." Utahime gripes. "So go, Gojo-"Â
He catches your eyes. Your heart gets stuck in your throat.Â
He's taller than her. It takes little to no effort to barrel through her body, easily shoving her aside to get to you. You flinch, his touch burns when he grabs you, pulling you into his arms.Â
"Oh, baby." He sighs into your hair. "There you are. Missed you."Â
It's too soon. You aren't ready. You can still feel the emotions bubble up from that night, when you collapsed in Utahime's arms, sobbing your heart out. This wasn't fair. They never made it fair.Â
You cast a glance at Utahime. She was scowling, close to boiling right over the edge. It gives you enough strength to try to push Gojo off, but he only lets go, when he wants to.Â
"Okay." He smiles, reaching down to grab your hand. "C'mon. Let's go home. You had us both so worried for a sec, but if we explain everything to Suguru it'll be okay."Â
You find your voice then. As well as your strength. His grip on your hand isn't all that tight. It slips away when you gently shake him off. Satoru stops, confused.Â
"Satoru..." You start. "Didn't you get my text?"Â
He rolls his shoulders, agitated. "Yeah, but-but it doesn't matter."Â
There it was. His lovable personality. Casual careless, nonchalance. For once, you aren't annoyed by it. Maybe your grief made you numb to it.Â
"I did mean it," you say as plainly as you can, "every word."Â
He freezes. You smile at Utahime.Â
"Could you give us some time?" You ask.Â
She frowns, but she's never been able to say no to you.Â
"Ten minutes." She finally says, before she's marching back to the kitchen. You still hear her muttering while leading Satoru back to your room.Â
"I'm sorry." He says when the door shuts behind him.Â
"For what?"Â
He runs a hand through his hair, taking off those glasses he loves so much. You can't look him in the eyes for too long. It brings up too many memories.Â
"I fucked up, right?" He says, he sounds desperate. You've never heard him sound like this before. "I'm sorry. I dunno what I did, but I'm sorry."Â
You shrug, picking at the lint of your sleeves. "You didn't do anything. I just...it felt like a good point to just-"Â
"-Leave us?" He cuts in. "Come home, baby. I'm so sorry, just come home and we'll figure this out." You look away because you can feel the tears burn up.Â
"You didn't do anything." You insist, but your voice is weaker.Â
"Was it Suguru? Did he do some bullshit?" Satoru interrogates. "What'd he do? I'll kick his ass, I promise." You hide your smile underneath your sleeves.Â
"He didn't do anything either," you assure, "neither of you did."Â
He's getting more and more desperate. "Then why did you leave us? What's wrong with us? Why can't we go home and talk this out? Please come back, baby; home doesn't feel like home without you."Â
Isn't this what you wanted? A confession. Evidence that they wanted you just as much as they wanted each other. Satoru certainly did. Suguru did, too, considering how hurt Satoru implied him to be. A week ago, you might have been over the moon, too wallowed in self-pity to do anything but agree, run back into their arms, and willingly sink back into 2nd place all over again.Â
But the thought of going back to their home makes you feel sick.Â
"I can't." You decide. "I just can't. It's over, Satoru."Â
I'm sorry. You keep that last line to yourself because you're too scared to crack in front of him. Shatter. Splinter.Â
Satoru doesn't share the same sentiment. You hear movement, and when you look up, he's crying.Â
A part of you wants to hug him, but you hold yourself back because he isn't yours anymore, and maybe he never was. Still, it hurts seeing him like this. The piece of you that still wanted him is ready to forgive and forget. Your vindictiveness keeps it at bay.Â
"That's not fucking fair." He's saying through his tears, even when he's crying, he's beautiful, "You-you can't just ditch us like this. You don't get it; we can't live without you. It's killing us; you're killing us, baby." He staggers forward, in a way that makes you afraid he might fall. In the end, he just collapses on the bed. Eventually, you take a seat next to him.Â
He's looking around, you catch him eyeing the pile of clothes in the laundry basket. The hair ties on top of the drawer. The plushies on the bed. You think it might finally be starting to sink that that you're truly gone.Â
"Suguru can't sleep these days, y'know that?" He starts, a sardonic laugh in his throat. "He pretends to, but he can't. He stays up all night just wishing you'd come home. The guy is miserable without you, and you can't even gimme a fucking answer."Â
His voice cuts you just the way it's supposed to. You wince, feeling his words slice into his skin, finding their way into your heart. You look at his shoes for a moment. He didn't bother to remove them. Maybe that's another reason why Utahime was so pissed.Â
"I was starting to feel like an afterthought with you two." You speak. "I mean, it makes sense, you two were together, first. I thought the barrier would just take time to go away....but then it didn't."Â
How many times has Suguru taken Satoru's hand over yours? How many times has Satoru forgotten your drink but not Suguru's? How many inside jokes you didn't understand? You always felt petty for being jealous over the tiniest things, but those tiny things kept getting bigger and bigger until it felt like they'd been purposely building that barrier themselves.
You were sick of feeling like the third wheel in your relationship.Â
"Baby..." Satoru's voice is tinged in guilt and you can't look at him because you can feel the tears start to well up. "I-I didn't realize." He grabs your hand.Â
"Come home." He pleads. "We'll fix it, I promise. We'll be better. We'll do better."Â
You shake your head, slipping away from his grip.Â
"It's too late." Your voice is shaky. Please let him not notice. Please, please, please for once can his oblivious about everything but his one and only work in your favor? "You can't fix anything, Satoru. Not now."Â
"You haven't even given us a chance to-"Â
"You should go." You stand up. Satoru follows you out the door. Utahime's already outside. She catches your eyes and nods.Â
"Gojo." She speaks, tone clipped. "Get the fuck out of my house."Â
He stills, frozen like the prettiest painting in the world. His eyes turn to ice as he stares at her. Utahime doesn't budge. If anything, she advances, pulling you close, acting like a human barrier between you and your ex-boyfriend. You take it immediately, nestling into her side, taking refuge from his icy stare.Â
There's silence. You only relax when you hear his footsteps fade and the door slams ricochets into the apartment. And that's when you break down into Utahime's arms completely, letting her coo you into comfort.Â
"Maybe I am being overdramatic," you say when Shoko comes back later that day. Utahime was enraged since Satoru left, pacing around the apartment. It's only after both you and Shoko coaxed her back into the couch that she calms down enough to take a seat next to you.Â
"Maybe this whole thing is ridiculous. I-I should just go back and-"
"No." Shoko is immediately saying voice firm. "Absolutely Not."Â
You can smell the hint of smoke when she came back from the hospital. You try not to assume it's because of you.Â
"No way in hell are we letting you go back there after what he did." Utahime gripes.Â
"He didn't do anything." You argue. "I swear, I-I was just...being pathetic."Â
Warm hands lift your head up. You struggle, still shuddering from your sobs as Utahime forces you to look at her.Â
Her eyes are brown. Not as glittery as Satoru's, who's eyes shine like the burning sun itself. Not like Suguru, with his celestial purple. No, hers are just brown.Â
You didn't realize how beautiful brown eyes could be. Not just the color of home; the color of chocolate; the color of brownies. The way the light cast down at them made them deep and dark, like a night sky. If you looked closer, you could see tiny stars swimming around.Â
"Listen. Are you listening?" When you nod, her voice softens. She tucks your hair behind your ear.Â
"You deserve better." She insists. "You deserve better than them. So so much better. I know you can't see it right now, but there is better out there waiting for you." Her voice loses all momentum all at once. "Just...trust me, okay?"Â
Her desperation to be heard makes you smile a bit. You nod. Her frown loosens, just the tiniest bit. She relaxes.Â
"Thanks," you say after a beat. "I...I needed that. I'm glad I have goods friends."Â
Utahime's hands drop from your face. She collapses into the couch cushions with a groan. Shoko laughs.Â
"Told you." Shoko says, mirth and alcohol on her tongue.Â
Utahime flips her off, and Shoko takes her place. She settles into your side.Â
"They were assholes." She tells you. "Forget about them. And she's right, you deserve better."Â
You were glad they were there for you, even when you weren't there for yourself. It felt nice that they cared. Vouched, Advocated for your comfort. They made better boyfriends than your old boyfriends ever did. Their support helped heal the Satoru and Suguru-sized holes left in your heart. Every day became a bit better.Â
When Suguru eventually turned up, you were a bit more prepared.Â
He's a bit nicer than Satoru was. He actually knocks, instead of relentlessly pounding on the door. He doesn't barrel through Shoko when he spots you cowering behind her. His face betrays nothing. He's still. A polite smile is stretched on his lips. Shoko isn't happy about letting him into her home, but when she glances at you, you nod. You needed to do this. You needed closure.Â
And so did Suguru.Â
You don't speak to him until you're shut in your room. Geto cuts the silence first.Â
"How have you been?" He asks nicely.Â
"Good." You respond. "You?"Â
"Good."Â
Conversation stilts. You don't know what to say. Luckily, your ex is never the man who stays silent for long.Â
"How's living with Shoko and Utahime been?" He asks, "I'm surprised you've put up with them for this long. They were pretty scary in high school."Â
"I bet you two were scarier." You counter.Â
He smiles. It's soft, looks good on him. You find yourself smiling back. When you take a seat on the the of the bed, he doesn't follow. You don't know whether to feel glad or not.Â
"Yeah, I'm not the proudest of those times." He admits with a sheepish laugh.Â
It dies down, and you know the artificial barrier between you two has broken. You shift, waiting for the inevitable.Â
"Satoru told me what happened." He sighs. "I'm sorry, Angel. We-I didn't know how you felt. Everything was so perfect, I just thought you felt the same."Â
"It's fine." You assure, and this time, your throat doesn't clog up, and your eyes don't feel itchy. "Really. It's-it's fine."Â
"It's not." Suguru shakes his head. "You'd be in bed with us if it were."Â
That comment pricks something deep within your skin. You swallow, turning away from his piercing purple eyes. They were much like Satoru's. Breathtaking, you could stare at them for hours. You used to.Â
But now, you don't have that desire anymore.Â
And maybe now that you aren't so attached, maybe you could try being a little more honest.Â
"I was jealous." You finally admit. "I couldn't help it. I-I always felt like I was fighting within my relationship. You two were so much closer to each other than I was. Than I ever could be, honestly."Â
Suguru frowns, troubled.Â
"That's not true." He insists, soft, but something's burning underneath his tone. "Satoru and I have history, but that doesn't mean-"Â
"I was runner-up." You cut him off. "For both of you. Looking back, I'm not really upset. It was always impossible for anything to come between the two of you. This-" You gesture between you and him "-was always inevitable."Â
"It's my fault." You smile at him, hoping it comes across as sincere as you feel. "I couldn't stand being second place."Â
He moves then, kneeling in front of you. Eyes the widest you've ever seen them. He catches your hands in his. You let him. A parting gift.Â
"Angel." He starts. "We never once thought of you as that."Â
You shrug. "It doesn't matter." You reply. "It's how I always felt. You can't really change the way I feel about things, Suguru."Â
You think he's realizing that he's beginning to lose you. His grip gets tighter as if he can physically keep you with him at the very least. He shifts until he's right at your knees, looking up at you desperately.Â
"Come back." He insists, abandoning his persuasions. "Just...come back. At least for a little while? We can try again, can't we? Just give us a second chance?"Â
It's strange, they don't look too similar, but you can see the similarities. Wow, they're just perfect for each other, aren't they? Yin and Yang. Two halves; one whole.Â
You were always a leftover. You just had to learn that the hard way, through days of heartbreak, crying, and sobbing your heart out. It took you awhile to understand that the affection they had for each other is different from the affection they had for you.Â
You shake your head. His hands nearly crush yours.Â
"I love you."Â
It takes you a while to figure out what he said. When it does sink in, your world tilts. Your heart stops at his abrupt declaration and you must stare at him because why? At first, you think he's just desperate: lovebombing. And then you look into his eyes, his sincerity. No, he means it. It makes you feel worse.Â
"Satoru does, too, but you know him-he'd rather die than admit something like that." Suguru gives a bitter laugh, one you find familiar even after all this time. "I've always wanted to tell you but thought it was too soon. I thought we had all the time in the world." His voice tapers so he doesn't have to say the obvious but clearly you three didn't.Â
You want to reach over, tuck a stray lock behind his ear but you stop yourself because he isn't yours anymore. You gave it all away when you ran. Instead, you curl your hands around his in silent understanding.Â
You don't know how you didn't realize it before, but Suguru is less put together than usual. His hair is typically well-groomed and shiny, but now you see split ends. His eyes are clear and bright, but today...they aren't. A dull purple. Hazy violet.Â
He's miserable.Â
You did this. This was all you.Â
"Satoru misses you," he says, "always had. Barely smiles anymore. I don't think I can blame him."Â
They loved you. They love you. This was all what you wanted. Just a bit of recognition. There's a tiny part of you that's still itching to jump back in Suguru's arms, kiss him until you're out of breath 'just kidding! it was a prank! let's go home!'Â and then you two would leave hand-in-hand back to Satoru.Â
Going back to them would make them happy, but not you.
But Shoko was right. You deserved better.Â
 "It'll get better." You assure. "You'll heal."Â
Day by day, the cracks in your heart start to seal. Bit by bit. It may never heal over completely, but you know you'll be okay one day. And they'll be alright too. Who knows, maybe in a couple years, you'll all laugh at this.Â
Suguru shakes his head and stands up. His eyes are just the bit glassy, but he's blinking them away before anything gives. It's just like him, honestly, so you're not too upset.Â
"You don't get it." He's smiling, not quite in humor. "I don't think you'll ever do but..." He trails off, mid-thought.Â
"But what?" You press.Â
Then he sighs and closes his eyes. When he looks at you again, his signature pleasantly cold smile is on his face.Â
"I did all I could, I think." He turns around, abrupt. "I'll see myself out."Â
You're caught off-guard by his sudden departure, but by the time you're following him, Shoko's already leading him out the front door, locking it with exasperation.Â
"Is that it?" She asks. "They won't be barging in anytime soon, right?"Â
You stare out the window, watching as Suguru gets in his car. Something bubbled in your stomach.Â
~
It was one of those nights. Shoko had come back early. Utahime was back from the school. You had planned a cute little evening for the girls and a relaxing night in. You had everything: wine, freshly-prepared dinner, a cheesy horror movie, and an announcement you're sure they were more than happy to hear.
You had just settled down the blanket when you hear Shoko come through the door. You take off her coat before she can even touch it, excitedly flitting around her.Â
"What's gotten you in such a good mood?" Shoko asks, her dark circles even more profound than before. You don't have to feel guilty about those for long.Â
"You'll see!" You chirp back.Â
Utahime strolls out of the bathroom, fresh from the shower. Her hair is still wet. You'll ask if you can blow dry it later.Â
"That's what you've been saying for nearly an hour now." Utahime groans. "Just tell us already. Or at least, me."
"Patience." You chastise. "But, it's a good surprise, I promise."Â
She's not satisfied, but she sits down anyway. They eat dinner, complimenting your skills all the while. You preen at their praise. It's a stark contrast between Suguru and Satoru, how cold they'd often been whenever you did something nice for them: tilted smiles, less-than-receptive words of 'oh baby you didn't have to'.Â
As you lived with both couples, you can see the similarities. Utahime's temper is close to Satoru's, but that's where the similarities stop. She's more serious and less likely to blow off your feelings with a playful huff. Shoko and Suguru share the same laid-back personality, but Shoko is always there to listen to you instead of cutting you off with condescending sympathy.Â
Wow, maybe Satoru and Suguru were a little more shitty than you initially thought.Â
Eventually, the night draws to a close. They're drunk, full, and smiling. Perfect. You clear your throat just when Shoko refills her fourth glass.Â
"Again, I'd really like to thank you for letting me stay." You start. "It meant so much to me to have two amazing people to support me like this. So, thank you."Â
Utahime smiles. "Don't thank us," she says, "again, you can stay for as long as you want-forever, honestly!"Â
You nod. "Well, I don't think I have to do that anymore."Â
Shoko freezes mid-sip.Â
"What?" She asks.Â
"I talked to my parents." You tell them, oblivious to their stone faces. "And I'm going to move back in with them, just until I get back on my feet. Isn't that great? Now, you two won't have to-"Â
You stop when you finally notice how cold they look. Utahime looks close to tears.Â
"What's wrong?" You ask.Â
"You're leaving?" Utahime asks, her voice nearly cracks. "Why?"Â
That...wasn't what you were expecting. Shouldn't they be glad the third wheel is finally out of their house? Why does Utahime look so heartbroken? Why is Shoko so quiet? What was going on?
"Isn't-isn't this what you wanted?" You fumble with your words. "Now, you don't have to share the house with me anymore. It'll be just the two of you again."Â
They exchange glances, and it reminds you of those secret conversations Suguru and Satoru used to have. Except this time, you can read their faces.Â
"What if...we don't want it to be just the two of us anymore?" Shoko starts, hesitant, reproachful like she's approaching a scared wild animal.Â
Your eyebrows scrunch. "I don't understand."Â
At that, Utahime drops her head in her hands. "Oh, c'mon! We've been doing this for weeks! You can't be that oblivious-"Â
And then, she stops herself. Looks at you. You stare right back, and the three of you have the exact same realization at the exact same time.Â
"Oh." You breathe.Â
"Oh." Utahime whispers.Â
"We're all idiots." Shoko says behind her glass.Â
"Wait wait. Hold on." You backtrack. "You-you two want...with me?"Â
"Yes!" Utahime exclaims. "Yes! God, now everything makes sense. I thought you were just trying to let us down gently, but this whole time you just weren't even paying attention!"Â
"No." You argue, face hot. "You two were just really subtle."Â
"We all sleep in the same room, these days." Shoko lists. "'Hime sat on your lap with nothing on but a bra and panties."Â
"I thought we were just doing friend things!"Â
"What kinds of friends sit on your lap, half-naked?" Utahime asks, mortified.Â
"I-I-" You give up.Â
All this time. You were mourning over something you lost months ago, even when there was something blooming right under your nose. God, you're an idiot.Â
Hands. They clasp your own. You look up into Utahime's pretty brown eyes.Â
"We want you to stay." She whispers. "We want you." You take a glance at Shoko.Â
"Do you want us?"Â
You take a deep breath.Â
You nod.Â
She's smiling, and then Utahime's kissing you. Soft, so soft, nothing like the possessive kisses Satoru gives you. It's innocent and adoring and you find yourself melting into her completely.Â
Utahime disappears and before you can mourn her warmth, Shoko's lips join yours. You can smell the alcohol, the slightest sting of cigarettes. You don't mind it. Her kisses are nothing like Suguru's, all powerful and domineering. She takes what you give her, asking ever so nicely for more.Â
You break away, panting.Â
"You good?" She asks.Â
You nod.Â
"Good." Shoko hums. "Cuz we're gonna fuck you now."Â
"What?"Â
Shoko pushes you down on the couch. You land with an oomph before Utahime's descends on you with a flurry of kisses.Â
"Waited so long to do this, baby." She's sighing into your lips, fiddling with your shirt so she can pull it off. "Weeks and weeks."Â
She pulls down one of your bra cups, massaging at your tits. You hadn't had action in so long, so you eagerly encouraged her movements, kissing her back with just as much fervor. Shoko takes her place next to her girlfriend, pawing at your other tit.Â
"Look." Shoko purrs. "One for each of us." Her soft mouth sucks on your nipple, swirling it around her mouth. Your head leans back with a pleasant sigh.Â
"Feel good?" Utahime asks. "She's good with her tongue, isn't she?"Â
"Yes," you nod, and Utahime gives out a delighted giggle, peppering your face with kisses. You gasp when you feel her hand shift through your shorts, palming at your dripping pussy.Â
"Poor thing." Utahime's cooing, and there's a brief hint of mockery in her tone. You've never heard that before. It turns you on even more. "They never gave you attention back there did they?" She circles your clit. "They were too busy sucking each other's dicks to pay attention to such a pretty pussy."Â
Shoko pops off your tits, shifting down. She kisses her way to your stomach. You blearily watch as she adjusts herself until she's right at your shorts. Utahime follows her lead, tugging off your shorts. Your panties go next.Â
And then you're staring down at them with trepid anticipation.Â
"I meant what I said." Shoko says softly. "You deserve better. You deserve someone who cares for you."Â
"You deserve us." With that, She and Utahime latch onto your pussy.Â
They're everywhere. You have to stop yourself from cumming right then and there, arching your back as one of them sucks on your clit while the other licks into your hole. She manages to stick her tongue inside of you, and it's enough to shoot sparks through your eyes.Â
"So tight." Utahime's hissing into your cunt. "Sho, after this, you wanna try to fuck this pussy with your strap?"Â
There's a soft laugh, and Shoko pulls away from your clit to answer, much to your disappointment. You whine, thrusting your hips in the air. She stills you with a hush.Â
"I don't think we're ready just yet." She hums. "Yet."Â
When you glance down, they both are making out with your clit. It's debaucherous. Their soft lips are connected, your tiny bud locked in the middle as their spit trickles down into your pussy. Utahime groans and when you look further down, you realize she's touching herself.Â
You don't know which part of this makes you cum, but you cum. It's the hardest you've ever orgasmed. There's so much stimulation that your hips buck up, trying to chase the sparks of pleasure. They let you, licking you through your orgasm.Â
When you come down, your thighs fall apart, splayed against the soft cushions. Utahime still isn't finished, licking at your clit. You shudder at the overstimulation, whining until Shoko is pulling her off of you by her hair.Â
"Good, baby?" She asks, crawling back up to you. You kiss her as an answer. She melts in delight.Â
You break the kiss, glancing over at Utahime.Â
Taking the silent request, she kisses you again. You can taste yourself on her lips. You don't mind it. For some reason, it's sweeter on Utahime's tongue.Â
When she breaks away, she stares at you, face soft. "You're staying, right?" She asks you. "You'll stay with us? Because after this, I don't think we could ever let you go."Â
You give a shy nod, and Utahime beams.Â
"Then, you're ours now," Shoko says, settling into your side. "And we're yours. Always."Â
"Always." You breathe, content, happy. You could almost go to sleep.Â
Shoko slaps your thigh.Â
"Not yet." She warns before propping you up. "First, I want you to sit on my face."Â
Hours later, you wake up delightfully sore in bed. The two girls are curled up next to you. When you move, you can still feel the bruises Utahime left. You never knew she liked to bite so much.Â
You can't even begin to remember what happened, but you don't regret any of it. Hours and hours had passed as they fucked you and fucked each other, and you fucked them.Â
Shoko shifts beside you. She was always a light sleeper.Â
"Awake?" She asks.Â
"Yeah." You softly say back.Â
She hums, shifting a little more to face you. Utahime's behind you, arms protectively curled around your waist. At your voice, her eyes twitch.Â
"Shut up." She grumbles, but her arms cinch around your waist.Â
Shoko stretches as she rises up. You miss her body warmth but you don't mind the view she gives as she saunters over to the dresser, pulling on some clothes.Â
"I'm gonna get food."Â
Utahime mumbles out her order. You say nothing because you don't want to come in between them, and then Shoko looks at you.Â
"What do you want?" She prompts.Â
You blink, and when you answer, Shoko smiles, and then she's out the door.Â
The interaction makes your heart warm.Â
Still, it can't last.Â
When you go to get up, Utahime protests, grabbing your wrist.Â
"And where are you going?" She prods.Â
You fumble. "Back to my room?"Â
"What? Why?" Utahime demands with a frown. "What's the point, you're already with us, now."Â
"Oh." You blink, but you give in and slink back into bed. "Is...this really okay?"Â
"For God's sake, " she hisses, but you don't count it against her because Utahime has always been a little grumpy after waking up. "Yes. We're obsessed with you. How are you so blind?"Â
"We want you, and we're not like them." Her voice drops in disdain. "We'll treat you better. You're ours now. You're mine."Â
"Yours." You repeat, something warm fluttering in your belly.Â
"You can't leave, we'd go crazy, okay?" She seriously tells you. "If someone else takes you away, I'd lose it. And Shoko is okay with murder."Â
You laugh.Â
"That's not a joke." She warns.Â
"I know." And you kiss her again.Â
It's like that for a couple weeks. You live in peaceful domestic bliss with two wonderful girlfriends. Now that you're in an actual loving relationship, you can't tell why you ever contemplated ever going back to Satoru and Suguru. Shoko actually talked to you about your feelings. Utahime cared about your input. You weren't treated like an afterthought, second place.Â
They were with each other longer than they had been with you, but they never made you feel like you had to fight for your relationship. Speaking off Satoru and Suguru, they never once contacted you after their first two attempts. They'd clearly given up.Â
Everything was just perfect.Â
And then, it just wasn't.Â
You were in bed with them. Fifteen minutes ago, Utahime shuffled off to go to the bathroom. She still wasn't back. Half asleep, Shoko grumbled.Â
"She's probably in there fighting a cockroach." She complains, but she rises anyway. "Sleep, I'll be back." She kisses you on the cheek, and then she's gone.Â
Their body warmth fades, but they stay because they're tired. These days, you can't really sleep without them, so you wait for the girls to return. Two minutes pass. Then, five. Then, ten. By then, the bed is cold.Â
You open your eyes, sitting up. It's so quiet. Are they okay?Â
You pull off the comforter, stepping onto the cold wooden floor. The apartment feels strangely...haunted somehow. The air felt heavier now, thick with an invisible tension, like the house itself was holding its breath. It must be because you feel alone, you're sure of it.Â
The bedroom leads to a dark hallway. As you make your way down, you can hear something. Voices? Murmuring. The relief almost makes you laugh. Seriously, what were you even afraid about?Â
The living room is horrific.Â
They look dead. You can't tell if they're breathing or not. Shoko's eyes are closed. Utahime's limp body is sprawled across the floor. There's blood on the wooden panels.Â
Suguru doesn't even blink.Â
"You're awake." He says it so casually, like waking up to your ex-boyfriends mauling your girlfriends is normal.Â
"What..." Your voice fails, you weakly try again. "What did you two do?"Â
Satoru answers, smiling with glinty teeth.Â
"Isn't it obvious? We're getting rid of the competition."Â
You don't understand, your brain hasn't caught up yet, you still think you can talk to these psychos.Â
"It's their fault." Satoru's still smiling, but there's nothing happy about his tone. He's carrying a knife. There's blood on it. "It's all their fault. They manipulated you into breaking up with us, baby. That's how these useless sluts got you into their arms." He spits on Utahime's hair. You cover your face with your hands.Â
"But, it's not like you aren't at fault, Baby." He points the knife at you. "You left us for them. I'm not letting you off the hook for that."Â
You don't know what he's saying. His movements scare you, his eyes, the knife. When you glance at Suguru, you don't know what you're expecting.Â
But you know you aren't expecting...that.Â
His purple eyes are icy cold. Utterly devoid of any emotion. You don't think you're staring at a person, anymore.Â
"You lied," Suguru says, "You lied about us not giving you enough attention. You just wanted to leave us. For them."Â
You step back. They step forward.Â
Those bastards would've never let you go otherwise. Utahime warned you. Looking at her limp body, you wondered if she thought they'd ever go this far.Â
"I didn't." You weakly insist. "I-I wasn't lying about anything! It-it wasn't like I wanted to leave-"Â
"Stop lying," Gojo insists. "Stop fucking lying already."Â
He smiles again.Â
"It's okay, baby. I know you'll come back with us. Right after we're done dealing with these two whores."Â
"You'll belong to us." Suguru promises and he steps on Shoko's hands. "Just like always."
They were both crazy. Nothing could get through to them. Now, you would sit there and watch them maul the only things in your life that made you feel complete.Â
The worst part is that everything was your fault.Â
Shoko's pinky twitches. You can see Utahime take shallow breathes.
And you speak.Â
"I'm sorry."Â
Your weak voice makes them stop in their tracks. Satoru glances at you, Suguru does too. You can't convince them. The only thing you can do is play into their delusions.Â
"You're right." You say, the tears finally feeling useful. "I just wanted to leave. I-I was just bored. I wanted something new." Suguru's lips curl and you quickly move on. "But-but the more I stayed with them, the more I realized...how much I missed you two."Â
Satoru halts. You caught him.Â
"I did." You stress, carefully making your way to him on feet that were close to dropping at any minute. "Every day, I thought about you two." You reach out, touching his face with shaky fingers. "I really really wanted to come back, but I was afra-afraid you wouldn't...want me back."
Satoru reaches up to touch your hand. His fingers are cold. You resist the urge to shudder.Â
"You missed us?" He wonders.Â
The lie feels like sand.Â
"More than anything."Â
His kiss is violent. He crushes you with his grip, touching and biting and everything you hate. You squeeze your eyes shut, letting him suck your soul dry.Â
"Don't kill them." You whisper when he finally pulls away. "Please don't kill them. Everything was my fault."Â
Satoru's face is pensive. His gaze drifts off to Suguru's. Those silent conversations you hated so much.Â
Then, Satoru gives a delighted sigh.Â
"You're lucky. I love you so much." He kisses your nose, before pushing you in Suguru's arms.Â
"I'll clean up here. Suguru, go back to the truck." He demands.Â
You don't fight, letting Suguru drag you away. Shoko and Utahime live in apartments, but you're afraid if you scream, Satoru might change his mind and gut them anyway. Before Suguru leads you off, you catch Gojo scoffing before he kicks at Utahime's face. You gasp and pray that when Shoko wakes up, she'll be coherent enough to call for an ambulance.Â
I'm sorry, you tell them. I'm so so sorry.Â
Suguru pushes you into the backseat of their vehicle. You obediently take a seat.Â
"You shouldn't have left." He tells you. "You should've stayed."Â
His face is cold, but his tone betrays the tiniest tremor. If you weren't so scared, you'd laugh. The irony is that he's the one who feels wronged here.Â
"I'm sorry," you say anyway.Â
He hums, not quite satisfied with your answer.Â
"You aren't." He responds, and you hate how well he knows your tells.Â
And then, he grins.Â
"But you will be."
Hands reach out, gripping your neck. You flail immediately as Suguru cuts of your oxygen. You can't breathe. You can't fucking breathe. No matter how tightly you squeeze onto his wrist, digging your nails into his hands, clawing at his face. He keeps you still, keeping you there as you grow weaker. Your vision gets blurry. Your attempts get sluggish. There's a kiss on your forehead, and you black out completely.Â
~
You wake up in a room you've never seen before. And your neck is sore.Â
The pain drifts in as soon as consciousness does. You feel like you have a hangover, your head throbs, your eyes struggle to remain open. You can't go back to sleep either, not when it hurts so much.Â
The panic doesn't settle in until you catch the cuffs on either one of your legs, keeping you attached to the bedpost. Silver chains, with enough lead to let you move around a bit. The cuffs are padded so you don't rub yourself raw. You don't care about the thoughtfulness.Â
They're in the room with you, watching with silent eyes. Nausea builds up in your stomach, and you wonder how long they'd stayed there, just watching you.Â
You miss Shoko. You miss Utahime. You missed people who actually loved you.Â
Not these two. Monsters that lied and pretended, but deep down, they were just too selfish to share.Â
"You were out for a while." Suguru comments.Â
"I told you to use the syringe," Satoru remarks, but he doesn't sound too upset. At his voice, Suguru laughs.Â
You shift in your spot. Suguru takes that as an invitation. He sits at the edge of the bed, watching you with satisfied eyes. You must look pathetic: shivering, in tears. He reaches up, catching your tears with his finger.
"So cute." And then he frowns. "You know why we're doing this, yes? You were bad. You need to be punished."
"I'm sorry." It's all you can say. You feel like a broken record, doomed to repetition over and over again.
"You aren't. You should stop lying." Suguru says sweetly. "But I'm sure, a couple hours in your new home will help you think about how much you hurt us."
You wanted to scream, but you can't cuz your throat still hurts from Suguru's hands, and you know he's not above putting his hands on you this time. Maybe he never was, you just never saw this side of him until you made him snap.
"You're leaving?" You stumble, moving as they back away but the chains only take you so far. There are no windows, and when Suguru shuts the light off, the only thing that's keeping you from the dark entirely is the light emitting out the hallway.
"Wait." You beg. "Please. Wait, don't-don't leave me here. I'm sorry. This is scary. I'm scared."
Satoru hesitates at your broken voice. Like a shark smelling blood, you pounce.
"Satoru, please."
"If you keep coddling, then the lesson will never be learned." Suguru warns.
Satoru stares at you. He's not wearing his sunglasses. You can see him for what he is now.
"I love you." He says it so sincerely, you almost believe it. "This is for your own good."
The door shuts, and everything goes dark.
#yandere jjk#yandere#dark jjk#dark gojo satoru#dark content#yandere gojo satoru#x reader#yandere x reader#yandere gojo x reader#yandere jjk x reader#yandere geto suguru#yandere geto suguru x reader#dark geto suguru#shoko ieiri x reader#utahime x reader#yandere satosugu#dark satosugu#yandere scenarios#shokohime x reader
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- sylus x reader
master and servant. man and his right hand woman. you and sylus are labeled many things, but does love exist in many labels of your relationship?
genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive contentâminors do not interact!âangst, fluff, unrequited love, explicit smut, fwb, jealousy, hurt/comfort, description of major injury, blood loss, gore, assassin!reader (not l&ds mc), spoilers! takes place throughout long-awaited revelry
note: my very first love and deepspace fic! :') w.c 5.2k ! i have a severe brainrot omg
Everyone knows of your relationship with Sylus.
The leader of Onychinus and his notorious lady assassin, you two strike fear into his foes and allies alike. You are as deadly as you are beautiful, and that's more or less why he keeps you around.
What everyone doesn't know, however... is that behind closed doors, you too share his wealth and his bed.
âI don't mind to spend the whole night with you,â heâd whisper in your ear seductively at nights, deft and veiny hands roaming your body all over. He often made you ride on top of him, dark burgundy eyes hazed with lust, knowing full well that you desired the very same goal he did.
And youâd respond his hunger with the same fervor, crashing your lips into his, your tongues intertwining, your hips moving vigorously against him.
âAhh... ah!â Before you knew it, his cockâthick and long in sizeâslid inside you in such a snug fit, making you throw your head back and dig your sharp nails into his skin.
âKeep me going with your voice, kitten.â Sylus growled, eyeing your wobbling lips and tightly-pressed eyes as he sank even deeper inside you. âYeah, just like that...â
Sylus always began roughly, seemingly not minding your breathless moans and wishes, and you liked him that way tooâ
âIs this... all you've got?â you panted in a hoarse voice, sweat lining your neck and forehead, the coil in your belly tightened so deliciously each time he thrusted into you. âSurely... y-you can do better...â
âHa,â he gave a low snort, his red eyes blazing as he grabbed your bum and squeezed it, making you gasp. âCareful what you wish for... sweetie.â
And then your vision literally tilted upside downâSylus gladly flipped your position so he could see you even better. This way, he also had even better access to you, intertwining your hand with his, spreading your legs wide so he could rut into you.
ââ!â Breath was knocked out of your lungs as immeasurable pleasure washed over you, crashing and receding in an instant. You almost screamed as your back arched.
He broke into a satisfied smirk. âLet it out,â he murmured against your neck, biting gently into your skin, voice muffled. âYou never hold back with me, do you, hmm? So, donât start now.â
âYou b-bastard...â you looked up at him with a breathless smile, knowing how close you were to losing your wits.
He simply made your nights worth remember. His allure was undeniable, with a voice that was naturally sultry. And his hands... fuck, they did heaven's work.
It didn't take you long to finally reach your climax, and once you did, your moans were the nastiest all night as you continuously lined his back with scratches.
You could feel how he was chasing his own orgasm all the while, before pulling out right at the last minute and made a mess on your belly, falling beside you.
âTired?â Sylusâ chest rumbled with laughter as you laid sprawled there in a haze. His eyes narrowed at the sight of your burning cheeks. âI really like this look on your face right now.â
You rolled your eyes, catching your breath and shivered. âI bet you tell that to all other women you manage to lure to your bed.â
âHow presumptuous.â He sent you a sour scowl. âI have a high standardâ you should consider yourself lucky.â
Well, you do. Holding back a smile, you changed the topic. âIâm cold. Clean me up already.â
âNow, now⌠what a spoiled little thing you areâŚâ Sylus chuckled, his voice deep and low, yet wrapping his arms around you nonetheless, hoisting you up.
Nights of passion. Mutually beneficial relationship. Nothing more and less.
No strings attached.
This is thrilling. Intimacy without commitment is more than enough to spice your checkered life. After all, what could be better and more rewarding than fucking the hottest man in N109 Zone and getting away with it?
At least, you thought so.
. . .
âDamn, youâre going to make me soreâŚâ you grumbled, letting out a deep sigh as you sank into the sheets after he had cleaned you up, still basking in the afterglow and ready to drift off to sleep. âAhh...â
Sylusâ lips curved into a wry smile as he watched you make yourself comfortable on his bed, slipping on his black shirt. âWell, Iâm just that good, and you did ask for it.â
âAre you going out?â you asked in a small voice, teetering between sleep and wakefulness as you noticed him taking out his favorite gun. âItâs midnight.â
âLuke and Kieran said she has arrived.â Sylus said in low voice, not even sparing you a look. âAfter all, she has gone through all that trouble to come here, it is only right that I greet her myself.â
The woman. Sylus had told you several times, how a woman with Aether Core and powerful Resonance Evol would eventually come to N109 Zone. And that when the time came, he would make her resonate with him.
A part of you didnât really know what to feel about this vague plan of his. âWill you bring her here too?â
âIâll have her stay here until we have reached resonance,â he responded casually while shrugging on his coat.
Sylus valued others depending on their worth. He said it so himselfâhe isn't a philanthropist. He saw potential in your evolâthe Speech Manipulationâwhich is why he rescued you three years ago, even after you had swung a blade to his throat.
This time must be the same. You played with the edges of your hair. âWell, consider me jealous then. Seems like Iâll have a rival soon.â
Your quip finally caught his attention, as he finally turned to you, one side of his mouth upturned.
âHa.â Sylus strolled over to where you lay on the bed and placed a hand under your chin, letting out a throaty chuckle. âIs there even anyone brave enough to go against you?â
You shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. âWe shall see about that.â
Little did you know, the coming of this new girl would be the start of the undoing of your mutually beneficial relationship.
You would've expected the woman bearing Aether Core inside her to be way more interesting than that clueless, weak and easily spooked hunter from Linkon City.
But your and Sylus' definitions of interesting clearly differed though, as you caught him smiling after he pulled the most outrageous stunt on himselfâ having her shoot him right in the heart.
âShe is funny,â he said to himself, almost snickering even as you wiped the blood off his toned body. âShe was shaking so much the moment I pulled the trigger.â
âIs that your only findingââ you snapped as you wrapped the bandage around his bare chest, fuming. ââafter shooting yourself just to mess with her?â
Luke and Kieran told you how he had used his Evol to pull the hunter girl onto his lap, then handed her a gun and made her shoot him. You couldn't believe it at first, until the sight of Sylus staggering to his bedroom, his shirt bloodied and clutching his chest made you almost scream in horror.
âIs that really necessary?â you scowled, tightening the bandage with more force than needed. âOr are you just trying to get her attention?â
Sylusâ sharp gaze settled on you then, seemingly not taking your comment well.
âWhatâs got you so worked up about this, hmm?â he asked, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he observed your cross expression. âLast I checked, we agreed not to get involved in each otherâs personal affairs.â
Personal affairs, he said? Everything you two had done had long past breached all personal boundaries.
But the fact remains that you two are nothing more thanâ
âFine.â You tied the bandage abruptly and about to storm off, making no effort to conceal your ire. You couldnât say you were worried or that you hated seeing blood smeared across him. That was never in the agreement.
Until you felt a hard tug on your armâ
âAnd where does the angry kitty think she is going, hmm?â
Before you could discern it, your back was pressed against the wallâyour left arm pinned beside your head, with Sylus filling your view.
His sculpted abs were right in front of you for the taking, his scent permeated the air, and his unsettling swirls of crimson eyes had you completely captivated.
âHave I ever told you that you look beautiful when youâre angry?â Sylus laughed as he leaned in, gripping your chin with his other hand. âIf I didnât know you were more than capable of slitting my throat in my sleep, Iâd want you to look at me like this every day.â
It struck you how your heart raced wildly under his intense gaze. With his perfect face so close, the only sound that seemed to be most prominent was the pounding of your own heartbeat.
âWhatâs wrong? Weâve been closer than this,â Sylus taunted with a wide grin, his breath warm against your ear as he pressed his body against yours. âWhatâs making you so nervous?â
If you knew anything about Sylus, it was that he took pleasure in seeing you squirm in his hold. You glared daggers at him. âI hate you.â
âHow lovely.â
âYouâre infuriating,â you spat, devoid of any amusement.
He barked a satisfied bout of laugh once again, before releasing your chin. However, to your surprise, that very same hand groped your chest roughlyâ
âThen perhaps...â he hummed, a wicked glint in his red eyes, whispering to you with sultry voice right before he pulled you into him and devour your lips in heat: âYou can help to fix me, sweetie.â
His kisses were hot as his tongue and hands made his mark on your body. Pressed against his bare skin, you gripped his strong, broad shoulders as he lifted your legs to his waist.
As always, he managed to dissolve all your lingering thoughts with lust. You just never knew one day you would finally reach the last straw though.
. . .
"Are you going out again tonight?" you muttered, tracing your fingers along his abs as you lay in his arms, still a bit giddy after your passionate session.
"No, I'm sleepy," he replied quickly, his voice low as he pulled you closer and closed his eyes. "Go to sleep already, kitten."
"I can't sleep."
"Poor you. I can though."
You quirked a frown at him. "You're so annoying these days."
"Oh?" Sylus cracked his eyes open, a smirk on his lips. "If you find me so disagreeable, you can always make me obey you, no?"
Your speech manipulation could make people do your bidding and it was a pretty useful talent. Apart from the first day you met Sylus three years ago in the wasteland of N109 Zone, you had never tried using it on him again.
"I won't, you idiot." You sighed and turned away, your back facing him. The idea of bending him to your will somehow didn't sit right with you. It was against your conscience now.
"Why are you facing away? It's freezing," he grumbled almost in a petulant voice. You nearly rolled your eyes, until you felt his strong arms wrap around your middle from behind.
"Why are you hugging me? Weâre not usually this touchy after sex."
"I'm telling you, I'm cold, and you're my heat pillow."
"You're so damn insufferable..."
Despite your sharp retort, a smile found its way to your face. Moments like this were rare, and when he was the one seeking you, you couldn't help these butterflies in your stomach. Still...
You two are not in love, dammit. Sometimes it confused you a great deal. What is love anyway?
âCaw, caw, caw!â
âMephisto, shush.â
Sylusâ robotic pet crow had surprisingly taken a liking to you shortly after you began living in the base. He obeyed your commands just as he did with his owner. The same couldnât be said for Miss Hunter though, as Mephisto seemed to have a strong dislike for her.
You were idling at the living room with the crow when you realized how close it was to dawn.
âLuke, Kieran,â you called to the twins, who were bickering over a crate of oranges, frowning. âWhere did Sylus go?â
Both stopped and looked at you, and Kieran blurted out, âBoss? Oh, he went out with Miss Hunter!â
You supposed you shouldnât be surprised, but you were nonetheless. âAnd he still hasnât come back?â
âAh, yeah... but I think they just went on a short errand. Heâs probably back or already on his way?â Luke mused, and you clicked your tongue.
It irritated you, it gnawed at youâhow Sylus had been spending so much time with that hunter these days. He was trying to make her resonate with him, but still, the way you saw it, he was going through his playbookâ
Just as he had done when he pursued you.
Calling her âkittenâ, âsweetieâ... everything he did with her seemed like a replay of the first year you spent in this place.
Deep down, perhaps you had hoped that, in some way, Sylus would see you as you saw him. Love might be out of reach in your bleak existences, but you at least wished he would consider you an irreplaceable presence.
You were petty, and you knew it.
âMephisto,â you whispered to the cooing crow as it turned to you pliantly. âGo find and bother her, okay? Donât let her out of your sight,â you added, letting the bird fly away on your command.
Deciding to rest in his room, you left the living room with a sense of exhaustion. You had stayed up for Sylus on a whim, as he had promised to share his plans for the upcoming auction soon. However, sleeping at dawn was giving you frequent headaches, and the habit was wearing on you.
You took a bath and then headed to his bedroom, and you would have never guessed what scene you'd walk intoâ
Sylus, in his bathrobe, and that girl⌠nestled against his chest on his bed. The very same bed where you two made out just the other night.
âY/N?â Sylus looked at you over the girlâs shoulder, and you were frozen on the spot, feeling an indescribable rush of emotions washing over you.
In the next moment, the hunter girl scrambled away from him in panic, her face flushed with shame. âI-itâs not what it looks like! I swear! Sylusâ I was just trying to find his brooch andâ!â
In that instant, something inside you turned ice-cold. Her frantic explanationsânone of it registered to you. The fact that he let her into his bed was enough for you.
You werenât sure if Sylus noticed, but your eyes darkened, your fists clenched, and a storm raged within your chest.
âSorry for intruding,â you said frostily, cutting her off and casting a contemptuous glance at both of them before turning on your heel and slamming the door shut.
It was no use, you finally realized. In this twisted relationship you two shared, there could never be anything more than hot sex and flirtations.
Somehow it hurt more deeply than you expected, as though your heart were being scorched. Yet, you couldnât even find the tears to cryâas you weren't allowed to do so.
Sylus noticed the change in you immediately.
You vanished from the base and returned in the evening, not sparing him even a look and he could tell then that you had come back a different woman.
And it was the part he hated the most. These days, he couldn't read you at all.
"Luke and Kieran, keep an eye on her tonight," he instructed his two underlings as the two of them were getting ready.
"Who? Miss Hunter?" Luke questioned.
"Or the missus?" Kieran supplied.
Both of them liked you as well. Unlike him, youâd spend your free time indulging their nonsense, and over time, they even gave you that friendly moniker.
They didn't really know the nature of your physical relationship though. Or at least, didn't really know fully.
"The latter," Sylus gruffly replied, and then he went to the hunter girl to prepare her as well.
He had a justified explanation. If you had asked him, he would tell you nothing had happened. Your ire was better than silence, definitely a hundred times better than this.
But why didn't you come to him?
And why does he want you to come and demand him for an explanation?
However, tonight was the auction for the Aether Core. He had to finish this first before he could get a word with you later.
At least that was what Sylus had thought... until he saw you at the auction venue.
You were stunning in that black cocktail dress. He didnât know when you had your hair done, but you looked as if you had spent the entire day preparing for this occasion despite having barely two hours after coming back. You were definitely a head-turner, drawing the attention of many vermin as you navigated the ballroom with grace and everlasting smile.
And it grated at him. Severely. Sylus's eyes were locked on each lowlife hell-bent on taking his life and desperate to get into your pants, knowing he would end them all tonight.
...and as if it wasn't enough, he then saw you entertaining one of them with that sort of smile you used to reserve for him.
. . .
"Mm-hm, really?"
"Yes, I've heard they are inside the safe number 209."
You coyly smirked, looking the man with mask in front of you, whom you had led to a deserted hallway, who had been complying and smiling at each and every question of yours.
"Thank you then." You flashed him your best smile, about to go back to the main hall.
"And uh, miss," he suddenly turned to you in a flurry. "I believe I haven't gotten your nameâ"
You chuckled, facing him again. "Oh, you want to know my name?"
"Very much so!"
This was like bread and butter to you. You effortlessly wrapped an arm around the man's neck, standing on your tiptoes, and whispered in his ear:
"Halt."
He went rigid the moment the command left your lips, and you could feel his panic rising as you pulled away.
"W-what happenedâ!?" he thrashed against the invisible hold manifested by your Evol in pure panic, to no avail, whereas you regarded at him with a cold smile.
"What a shame. I planned to let you be, but then you gave me the perfect opportunity." You maintained your eerie smile as you pulled out a thin, needle-like blade from the hem of your dress. "You have been a great help. Thank you."
With that, you slit his throat, and blood splattered onto the ground in a continuous pool as he jerked, collapsing like a broken statue.
You felt nothing at the sight, but you knew you weren't alone as you felt his presence.
"You started the party without me?" Sylus' deep voice resonated through the hall. "Didn't know you have that much of bloodlust this early, sweetie."
The clench of your heart was still there, even when you had decided to discard all your lingering feelings for this man. Still, you put on the perfect poker face when you met his eyes.
"I want this to be over and done with quick. I'm exhausted already."
Sylus eyed you calmly, yet somehow it felt as if the depths of those red eyes were trying to assess your soul. "Your actions said otherwise. Is flirting with him necessary?"
"You're one to talk, Boss," you scoffed at the last word. "As long as it entertains me, why isn't it?"
Sylus didn't deign you with an answer, and you decided to pour more oil into it.
"Strictly professional, no?" You lifted your chin defiantly. "Last I checked, we were not supposed to meddle in personal affairsâ"
You didn't realize it until he did, because the next thing you knew, his right eye suddenly glowed with that terrifying shade of crimson. "Youâ!"
He has seen it all. In the three years since he took you in, Sylus had never used his Aether Core-infused right eye on you to peek into your mind. The first and only time it had happened was when he restrained you from attacking him on the day you first met.
This was the second time. And now, he knows. Of your petty feelings, of your deepest, truest desire.
At first, Sylus remained silent, but then his eyes narrowed at you, low voice booming through the hall.
"Jealousy is unbecoming on you, Y/N."
And after all that he knew, that was the only thing he could come up with?
You felt shame wash over you. You wanted to run from him. This was too much because he most definitely didnât reciprocate your feelings, did he?
"I don't want to hear it," you resolved, the space around you felt constricting all of a sudden. You walked past him, about to break into a sprintâ
Sylus immediately caught a hold of your arm though, sending a glare at you. "Youâ"
"It ends here," you blurted in heat. "I don't want it anymore. We're through, Sylus."
"Listen to me!"
He snarled at you, and it was the very first time he did so. However, you paid him no mind and pulled out your ace card, staring hard into his eyes. You could feel the start of his black and red mist, but your Evol was fasterâ
"Move."
His hold on you loosened, and he jerked back several foot away from the impact. You kept your manipulation on him, avoiding his fury-blazed eyes, bolting away before he could catch you.
. . .
The night escalated so much worse than you had imagined. Explosions and a sudden appearance of an Arbiterwings threw the whole auction into chaos.
You were fighting off the sudden wave of wanderers alone, relying solely on your blade since your voice was too hoarse to use your Evol. When one of them struck you and sent you crashing into a wall, you just sat there in a daze.
It was exhausting. Usually, Sylus would be by your side, covering your back at the very least. He wouldn't let a single scratch get to you. His black and red mist of doom would dominate the battlefield, offering you protection while at it.
You loved that bastard. It was so beyond stupid. Why did you have to ruin everything by having these feelings? If your heart was gone, would these feelings go with it too?
You got your answer sooner than you thought.
White-hot pain engulfed you when something impaled you right in the chest. The searing agony was mind-blinding, the only thing you could discern was your own wails.
No, the feelings didnât go. Even as you teetered on the brink of death, that damned love only evolved into many regrets.
And in your final moments, you could've sworn you felt the exact moment your heart stopped beating.
"Oh my god! Luke! She is here!"
"Kieran...! Is she alive?!"
"So much bloodâ! Luke, call Boss! Call Boss here!"
"Boss! We found her!"
"What do we do?! Shit! It's right... in her heart..."
"What!? Boss! S-she is...! Oh lord..."
You had a dream, and it was of your first meeting with Sylus.
Three years ago, in the wasteland of N109 Zone, you were a mere scavenger until he found you. You had thought he was a threat much like others in this lawless city, so you unwittingly showcased your Evol before him in defense, until he pinned you down on the hard ground, crimson eyes holding you in place.
"I'm giving you two options: go with me and live, or die here in vain," he had told you then, a smug smile on his face. "I assure you, so long as you're still useful to me, you won't have to worry about food or roof above your head ever again."
What kind of homeless person would refuse that tempting offer?
Since you followed him, Sylus had never been untrue to his word. He made good of his words, idly engaged you in his circle, showered you with gifts, and at one pointâ
"You're... trying to tempt me, aren't you?" he growled amidst kisses, pinning you on his desk. Apparently, seeing you up close and personal every day in his home had worn down his patience. He was just a man, after all.
You wickedly giggled, even breathless, cradling both sides of his face and admiring those ruby eyes of his. "What if... I am?"
"Then consider me tempted, little kitten," he chuckled, his baritone voice casting a spell over you. "Remember though, curiosity can kill most cats."
Thus began your thrilling relationship, and you knew you would gladly stay with him just to have a taste of that heaven. And you knew too, he wouldn't cast you easily this way.
And of course, so long as you are useful to him, that is.
When you came to, you felt warm, and your position was so comfortable that you were almost lulled back to sleep.
At first, it didn't register to you where you were. The scene before you was so familiar, but you were so lethargic that you were late to recognize it.
"Awake?"
Sylus' bedroom. The realization dawned on you as that deep, low voice questioned you flatly. You jerked instinctively, looking up at him as he came into view, holding a glass of wine.
He was still the same. Even with you out of commission, he would still indulge himself with his wine. Somehow you couldn't really pinpoint what you should feel about it.
However, Sylus then did the thing you didn't expect him to. He went back to his pantry to get a glass of water, and then he came to your side to prop you up.
"Drink," he commanded, positioning the glass on your chapped lips. You complied and did so, feeling relief for your throat. Once you were finished, he gently laid you back on the bed and tucked you in, never once taking his eyes off you.
"How are you feeling?"
"Have been better," you quipped dryly. Then it dawned on you that he had never been this gentle with you before. He was showing care, which confirmed one theory you had about him: Sylus could be considerate when he chose to be.
The very fact that you ended back here didn't really faze you much, because in the end, you belonged to him out of all people. Just one thing that still didn't make sense in your mind: "What did you do?"
His burgundy eyes squared at you. "What?"
"Thereâs no way I could've survived that," you mumbled, trying to gauge his reaction. "You mustâve done something."
âHa, when it comes to these things, youâre sharp,â Sylus said with a light scoff, and you frowned.
"Answer me."
"Aether Core," he supplied. "It was now in you, repairing your coronary system."
"You..." you were rendered speechless. "Youâwhat? You infused my heart with a Protocore...?"
Just like the one in his eye, he had implanted you with that dangerous fragment that was from something as horrific as a Wanderer. The very thought made your breath hitch.
"Stay calm," he commanded, his hand found yours when he noticed your horrified expression, squeezing it as if to provide some sort of reassurance. "You'll be fine."
"H-how... why..."
"That was your only chance, or you wouldâve been dead." Sylus' tone was harsher now, his jaw set firmly. "I keep telling you not to rush in carelessly, and yet you did. Did you even know how bad your state was when I found you? No, you didn't."
The way he spoke made you feel as though you were being blamed, and overwhelmed with your frustration, you retorted sharply, "No one asked you to save me."
Awkward silence lingered for a good one minute after your jab. You turned away from him, feeling conflicted, because you knew you should be grateful that he did so, because it meant the Aether Core inside you now was the one he had been looking for in that auction.
He gave it up to save you.
Still, it confused you.
âIf I died...â you began, bitterness creeping into your voice. âThen it just means Iâm no longer useful to you. You always discard things that no longer serve your purpose.â
You turned back to him, meeting his impassive gaze. âSo why? Did you pity me after discovering my feelings? Is that why?â
There are many labels in your relationship. Master and servant. Onychinus leader and his right-hand woman. But you were also his lover, even unsaid. Was that fact that did it? Or a mere charity for the weak, you?
Suddenly, Sylus placed his palm over your chest, right where your heartbeat pulsed. You stiffened, bracing for some sort of impact.
But no, it wasnât anything sensual like he usually did. His handâlarge and warmâwas a comforting presence, resting on your chest and feeling the steady rhythm of your heartbeat.
"Haven't I told you that I never act out of pity?" Sylus' voice was strained but softer than usual, his deep burgundy eyes holding yours. "Do you really need me to spell it out?"
You didn't dare to look away, for the moment of truth was right in front of you.
"My only regret is not being able to pull you back," he said quietly, his tone somber. "I shouldn't have let you get hurt."
Oh. You blinked, taking in his sincere words, something inside you softening and warming at his words.
You had noticed it too. Despite his roguish exterior, he had always looked after you during your time together. It was just that you hadnât dared to hope for more.
âThe naughty little kitten has managed to worm her way into me, it seems,â he chuckled then, flashing you that cocky smile. âSo now, she has to be held responsible for her actions.â
His red gaze narrowed as he added. âMoreover, since I have saved your lifeâ you owe it to me not to throw it away so easily. So you canât rush into danger carelessly again, you hear?â
Those playful remarks were enough to dispel your doubts and insecurities. They answered everything you had been questioning, and knowing it, finally you let out a relieved sigh and exasperated snort. âYou shameless bastard...â
And when he leaned in to place a fleeting, innocent kiss on your forehead, you realized that, in his own way, he saw you just as you saw him, even if only a little.
Sylus settled into the bed beside you, wrapping his arms around you and letting your head rest on his arm. Tonight, there were no passionate kisses, no steamy foreplay, or dirty talksâ just you being alive and well in his embrace.
âHow long have I been out?â
âThree weeks, woman. Luke and Kieran keep mourning you everyday.â
âThree weeks?! How did you manage without me for that long?â
Sylus glanced at you, a contented smile on his face as he held you close. âItâs been horrid.â
Neither of you would be caught dead saying âI love youâ, and yet, regardless, you knew that right this moment meant so much more.
#sylus x reader#lads sylus x reader#love and deepspace x reader#l&ds x reader#lads x reader#love and deepspace x you#lads x you#l&ds x you#sylus x you#sylus angst#sylus smut#sylus fic#lads smut#l&ds fic#lads angst#lads sylus#sylus l&ds#sylus love and deepspace#love and deepspace smut#love and deepspace#lads#l&ds#l&ds smut#love and deepspace sylus#l&ds sylus#l&ds scenarios#lads scenarios#love and deepspace scenarios#lads fic#love and deepspace fic
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GET FUCKED NEEEEEEERD
The Salt Lake Tribune reports that the parent, who remains unidentified for privacy reasons, submitted their challenge on Dec. 11 along with an eight-page list of passages from the Bible that they found to be offensive and worth reviewing.
âIncest, onanism, bestiality, prostitution, genital mutilation, fellatio, dildos, rape, and even infanticide,â the parent wrote in their request. âYouâll no doubt find that the Bible, under Utah Code Ann. § 76-10-1227, has âno serious values for minorsâ because itâs pornographic by our new definition.â
#loopholes are a bitch ain't they you biblehumping lunatic#oh this made my whole day#Parent X you beautiful bastard#that was goddamn hilarious
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The Albatross
summary: Originally an unlikely match, you give birth to Aegonâs first child and his entire world changes.
pairing: Aegon x Strong!Reader
word count: 767
warnings: Description of pain & childbirth, brief mention of blood, guilt.
note: âAlbatrossâ is used metaphorically as a psychological burden dealing with shame or guilt! (and shout out to Taylor Swift)
Aegon wanted to hate you. He wanted to hate your hair and your eyes. Your thick eyelashes, the freckles that dusted your cheeks, the way your nose scrunched when you laughed. Despite wanting to hate you in your entirety, he found himself physically incapable of doing so. As a young boy he refused to admit it, even going so far as to tease you for your features â but he thought you were beautiful. If anything, you couldâve resembled his mother more than a Targaryen.
It wasnât your features that were wrong, but who you inherited them from; you and your brotherâs served as living, breathing reminders of Rhaenyraâs infidelity.
Alicent Hightower had been sure to remind him and his siblings that you and your brothers were a product of their older sister's infidelity. An embarrassment to the family. An insult to the crown, to the realm. Abominations. Bastards.
Screams of pain shook the walls of the Red Keep.
âI canât do this anymore, Aegon! Please make it stop, it hurts!â you rasped, clawing at the blood-soaked bedsheets. It had been almost 24 hours since your labors had begun. To everyone's surprise, Aegon had yet to leave your side.
âWeâre almost there, my love. Youâre doing a great job,â your husband encouraged as he placed a chaste kiss to your sweat-drenched forehead, which you only returned with a death glare.
âI cannot take it anymore! Just get it out! Cut it out if you have to!â
One of your handmaids tried to dab at your forehead with a cloth, but you gripped her hand forcefully.
Aegon gave her a sympathetic look as he got her out of your grasp, locking his fingers with yours.
âYou know we canât do that, my love. I will not risk losing you.â
You winced as your midwife slid a finger around the base of your opening. All day long you had been violated against your will. Childbirth was not only painful, but humiliating. For Aegonâs sake, you silently prayed the babe was a boy. You werenât sure if you would be willing to go through this again.
âI can feel the head, your grace. Just a few more big pushes for me and the babe will be here.â
You groaned loudly, your teeth grinding together as another contraction wracked your frame. Pain radiated down your spine and into your groin. You felt like you were being ripped apart at the seams. Being eaten by Sunfyre seemed to be a more pleasant fate than this.
âYou hear that? Youâre almost done. Youâre doing so good.â
You squeezed onto Aegonâs hand as hard as you could, pushing with all the strength in your body. The harder you pushed, the sooner it would be over. You needed it to be over. With a final push, your vision began to blur and your mind went blank.
Before you knew it, loud cries pulled you back to Earth, and cooâs from your handmaidens filled the room. You laid back with a sigh of relief.
Finally.
The handmaids quickly handed the babe to Aegon so you could get cleaned up.
âA girl,â she stated proudly, âand she looks just like you, my queen.â
âLike me?â You shot up.
âLay back your grace, you need to relax,â she scolded you.
Throughout your pregnancy there was a fear in the back of your mind, that if the babe inherited your features that Aegon would be disappointed. Turns out, you couldnât have been more wrong.
âYes,â he chuckled, tears swelling in his eyes, âlike you. She is absolutely beautiful.â
He placed the baby in your arms, smiling down at the two of you.
A wave of guilt had crashed over Aegon at the sight of his newborn daughter. As well as your initial reaction to her looks. Thinking about the torment you endured for those same features in a world full of violet eyes and snow-white hair. How could he have been so cruel to you for something so fickle?
He couldnât help but think about Ser Harwin Strong. And the fact that he probably shared the same thoughts as him the first time he laid eyes on you as a babe. This baby was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and the thought of anyone making her believe anything else made his blood boil. He would simply not allow it. Anyone who even dare whisper a word regarding your daughters features would lose their tongue for it.
Although the responsibility of sitting the Iron Throne loomed heavy over Aegonâs head it wasnât until this very moment that he had true reason to be motivated to rule: his new family
#aegon targaryen#aegon II targaryen#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon targaryen x you#aegon II targaryen x reader#aegon II x you#tom glynn carney#aegon targaryen drabble#aegon targaryen imagine#aegon ii#aegon ii drabble#Aegon fluff#dad!aegon#aegon x strong!reader#house of the dragon#hotd#aegon targaryen fluff#aegon ii targaryen fluff#king aegon
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ââË・â SHE'S BACK!
GUESS HE COULDN'T KEEP IT IN, SO HE HAD TO KEEP IT INSIDE! âËâšâĄ dilf!gojo satoru x teacher!reader
tags: smut, unprotected sex, breeding kink, exhibitionism, getting caught, he fucks you while he's on the phone, overstimulation, dumbfication, fluff, gojo has an ex-wife, yuuji is gojo's son, age-gap.
A/N: well, this was surely and adventure and maybe self-indulgent title because guess what?, i'm back baby.
It was a nice morning, he felt clean. Like his life was finally steadying. Even after some stressful weeks trying to get rid of his now ex-wife, he won the trial and kept Yuuji. Poor little boy, just turning 5 years old and heâs already facing all this type of stress. But thankfully he will not be experiencing enduring his crazy mother behavior. Which basically was a gold digger, and a bitchâ Not that he would ever say that outloud, maybe with other words? Bastard? Witch? Not that it really matters right now.
He could finally take a break now, just focusing on raising his little boy, and being an old boring 31 year old dad. Life doesnât sound that bad.
âDaddy! Daddy!,â His son went running to his arms, almost stumbling by himself- clear happiness shown on his face. Quickly, Gojo opened his arms ready to lift the young kid. âMiss Y/N congratulated me on my homework! She was pretty amazed!â
Your name wasnât unknown to him, Yuuji was very open when talking about his favorite teacher, even though he hasnât seen you yet- from what heâs been told youâre the kidâs favorite, including Yuujiâs. âI had to talk about whoâs my hero, and I chose you!â If this day wasnât going great, it was now. Because his son's comment just made his whole week, life even.
âOh look dad!â The little boy pointed towards your moving frame, each time getting clĂąoser towards them. âDaddy, this is Miss Y/N!â Yuuji kept presenting the both of you. He was really excited to present his two favorite persons to each other- but all Gojo could think of whatâs how young and beautiful you looked. He expected someone older, maybe even an old lady with wrinkles and that loving grandma vibes, but what he saw made his heart beat in a way he never thought he would feel ever more.
âDaddy? Are you paying attention?â The little boy gained Gojoâs attention back, face now looking at him again. âIâm sorry kiddo, kinda just zoned out there. What did you just say?â
âUhh, what was it? Oh! Did I tell you Miss Y/N told me you were a very handsome man?â
âYuuji!â His gaze moved towards your blushed face, a hand covering part of your face. âIâm so sorry Mr.Gojo, I didnât intend to say-â
Gojo cut you off before you could continue apologizing âItâs okay, I also think Ms.Y/N is a very beautiful woman.âÂ
Uh, well. So this is how kinda you found yourself in this situation right now.
You swear it wasnât your intention! You really tried, you really did, but how could someone say no to Mr.Gojo? And mostly because he really showed his attraction towards you. Sending Yuuji with a rose for you every day, and the little boy was rooting for his dad, because dear god- he did not shut up about him, and how happy he would be with a new girlfriend and maybe one he could call âmommyâ and give him a sister.Â
That made you blush.Â
Not only because the little boy commented on it, and was agreeing- but because it was his dadâs idea.
âYouâre so wet, s-shit.â Loud thrusts filled the room, he was fucking you raw on his sofaâ waiting for Yuujiâs mom to bring him back, the little boy was eager to come back and âsee Ms.Y/N and his daddy finally starting to fall in loveâ
Kids being kids. But, he was right- the both of you were falling in love with eachother.
Gojo throws back his head, immersed in the warmth radiating off your walls and he lets your moans take him to another world. In a haste decision, he slips your dress over your head before tossing it. He mouths at your tits, plump and stiff between his lips, and he hurdles a deeper round of thrusts inside you.Â
When you get a little too loud, his hand comes over to clamp your mouth, wolf like eyes staring back at you, âShut it. You donât deserve to speak.â
His thin white tee that stays a barrier between you and him does not hide the rippling body underneath that seemed to be sculpted by gods. He presses into you, grunting, using you like his personal sex doll and you embrace it, thrive from it, come to it. Your hips contract, slewing in perfect circles, before having your legs fall gradually lifeless as you arousal drip down your thighs.
âFfffucckkk- oh baby, would you like that? Be full of me and my baby? Make me a daddy again?â
âyesyesyesyes, make me yours Mr.Gojo-âÂ
He pays your climax no mind,a smirk clearly showing on his face while he fucks you on his sofa- You could muffle your screams of pleasure easier here. Turning your head back to face him, you notice now heâs shirtlessâtaut and shiny from sweat like a large set of Hawaiian rollsâbefore seeing how quick he is to fit back inside you.
âGood girl.â His husky voice resonates and pushes you back into the sheets. âGood girls get rewards, donât they?â Your poor fucked up mind couldnât think clearly now. The way your abused and overstimulated pussy was still taking his rock hard cock gratefully inside you was making every feel giddy. A sudden noise bringing back a little part of your senses, Gojo clearly grunting grabbed his what you suppose phone, and answered. Not bothering to stop his thrusts.
âYeah?,â His voice sounded almost like a whisper because of how breathy it was. âGojo? Iâm almost at your house- Yuuji wanted some ice-cream and bought some for you and⌠your new girlfriend?â His chuckle interrupted his ex-wifeâs conversation, accompanied with a whimper at the feeling of you clenching on him- overstimulation clearly bringing you back to climax soon again.
A slap was heard from his part of the line, an unbelievable laugh coming from his ex-wife line, clearly noticing what was going on and then she finally heard you moan. You couldnât keep it in anymore, and you were too fucked out to feel embarrased about it right now.
âFinish before I leave Yuuji- Enjoy yourself.â Gojo was so lost in pleasure that he didnât even realize she hung up before he even processed what happened.
His grunts and sounds of skins slapping are all you hear as he pounds you back into the sofa. It feels like heaven beneath his weight. You were feeling flushed to the touch, but making contact with his skin was like an inferno. He was the embodiment of heat and as suffocating as that couldâve been, it melts you like itâs how it always shouldâve been.
His pace eventually falters, followed by a hushed âfuck,â and he empties out into your used hole. The moment he pulled out, a knock was heard.Â
âShit. Can you walk?â
PART 2
#gojo satoru smut#gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#gojo smut#satoru smut#gojo x reader#gojo x reader smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo jujutsu kaisen#geto smut#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen spoilers#toji smut#gojo x you#smut
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Can i request toji doing this to reader đđ
đ. đ§đ¨đđ: YEEEEEESSSS!!! I meanâahemâyes, you may request this delicious prompt ŮŠ(ËáË )Ů
âš đđ¨đ§đđđ§đđŹ: Toji x afab! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - kissing/making out - fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (presses and swiping) - Daddy kink - missionary position - praises - unprotected sex (no release on Toji's part, tho) - pet names (baby, mama, sweet thing, sweetie) - voice kink - Toji being a teaseing bastard, lawl - implied prior masturbation.
âš đ°đ¨đŤđ đđ¨đŽđ§đ: 1.3k
âHaaahâŚTojiâMmmm!â
âShhh, Iâm right here, sweetieâŚDidâya sleep well?â
Itâs not unusual for you to be asleep when Toji returns home from work, especially when heâs been away for more than three nights.Â
But, fuck, when he returns home, all he can think about is having your soft frame in his starved grasp.
You lay so peacefully on his bed, your man watching the rise and fall of your figure and listening to your snore while he quietly enters the room. Once he drops his stuff down, heâll crawl up to be atop you, emerald eyes scanning every feature of your beautiful face he wants to kiss so badly.Â
And the truth is that youâre just as touch starved as he is, left here to await his return while heâs doing God-knows-what (youâre unaware of his assassin gig) and worrying about his absence. But when you awake to the smooth sensation of your lips being pressed on, you donât scream or holler; far from that. Instead, you kiss back and open your sleepy eyes to see the grown man above you.Â
âToâŚji?â Your voice is strained with exhaustion yet curious.Â
The dark-haired man shushes you with his lips onto yours, moaning with you while his hands spread your legs for him to lay comfortably between. âMissed ya, mama,â his gruff voice so low that your stomach immediately flips at the erotical tone.Â
âI missed you, too,â you admit in between smooches, and you melt when he cups your cheeks to keep your face with his. âMissed you soâŚHmmmâŚâ
More kisses have you relax, his scarred mouth trailing down to suck on the skin of your neck to listen to more of your sweet gasps. âYeah? My baby missed me?â You chew your lips as he whispers in your ear, and your hips instinctively move at the motion of his hand, palming the groin of your shorts. âBeen thinkinâ âbout me while I was gone? âCuz I sure was.âÂ
âYesss,â your answer slurred by the lick and kiss to your helix. âYes, I haâAaah!â
His hand sneaks inside the hem of your shorts, not surprised to meet your bare cunt with his fingers. Your wetness instantly coats the rough pads of his fingertips as he nestles between your labia. âThinkinâ âbout me so much that yâre all wet like this?â You can practically hear the grin uplifting the scar on his lips. âHmm? Ya miss Daddy so much that you touch yârself while Iâm gone, huh?â
Your eyes are sewn shut at the sensation of your folds being fingered, and your lips ajar once Toji inserts his middle finger. Wiggling the digit around, scratching your walls with the blunt of his fingertips, it has you wail softly. âYessss, missed youâOooh! S..So much, DaddyâŚâ
âHeh, dirty lilâ thing,â Tojiâs finger goes faster, and the raven-haired man enjoying your shrieks gets a little louder, and your breath halts at his ring finger teasing your entrance. âTell Daddy how much ya missed me.â
You arch your back at the insert of the other digit; your fatigue vanishes with every graze of the two fingers. âHaaahâŚMiss how you kiss meâAhh!â He toys with your clit with the brush of his thumb. âH-How good youâMmnn!âmake me feelâŚâ He kisses your forehead; the gentleness contrasting with the salacious squelches from your shorts causes a haze.
âYeah? Ya like when I make ya feel good?â His fingers go faster, and the presses on your clitoris go frequently. âJust like?â
âMmnoooh,â Toji kisses you again, this time more passionately with tongue exploring your mouth; you twitch around his digits as they curl and rub. âIâŚLove it!â
Toji chuckles. âThatâs what I wanna hear, sweet thing,â and he removes his hand from your shorts to lick your fluids clean. ââCuz Iâve been thinkinâ âbout makinâ you feel good on my way here.â
He discards your bottoms to the bedroom floor seconds before he unzips his pants and brings them down with his boxer briefs. Toji has his dick free for you to marvel at, the nether limb not yet fully erected, yet the quick pulse of it has your mouth water. He slaps the tip onto your leaky chasm; the sight makes your vagina throb. So much so that you clamp tighter as he pushes the soft tip into you. âRelax frâ me, mama,â he coaxes you through, gradually pushing every inch of him inside. âDaddyâs gotcha, âkay?â
You howl inaudibly, furrowed brows as the base of his cock kisses your folds. And when he grinds his pelvis down? Jesus, you grip the sheets to serve as reins; contracts around his girth are inevitable.Â
âFuck,â he curses above you. âSo warm and tight like alwaysâŚâ
When he begins to move, itâs at a slow pace. The feeling of his dick pushing into and pulling out of you so sensually is so erotic to your senses, especially witnessing the thing burrowing inside your warmth with your own eyes. Oh, my God, you can feel it getting stiffer, making your excitement dial-up.
The member goes firmer with every stroke, and every sensation differs from the last. His shaft stands solid inch by inch, your eyes shooting up as you become fuller by the second. One pull and push has you whimper. Another push and pull, and your toes curl at the stretch of him becoming greater. Another slow push, and you're calling for him with a shaky breath as the tip of his now solid limb lightly jabs your cervix.Â
And Toji adores the view under his bow, your body reacting to his erect cock scraping your insides to the point of broken cries. âHow ya feelinâ, baby?â His sultry voice pulls you in as he increases the speed scarcely.Â
âDaahh, s-so full,â the snicker to your ear makes you clamp on him harder. âSo goodâŚNnoohh!! Daddy, stâOoop! D-Donât thrust soââÂ
âHmm? Whatâs up?â You donât have to open your eyelids to see that the older man above you has a mischievous look after suddenly sneaking a quick rut to your entrance. âWhat; donât like it when I go likeâŚthis?â Tojiâs hips go erratically, the motion making it easy to rub on your inner walls and sweet spots to the point of shrilled shrieks leaving your lips. âOrâŚthis?â He sluggishly pulls himself back where itâs only the tip of his shaft thatâs nestled inside you, only for him to snap his hips back in a rushed second. It takes a moment for you to process and let out a scream as the cockhead pokes your delicate cervix with precision.Â
Your hands frantically find his shoulders to grip his shirt, âDaddyyy, please, slâOoohâSlow downâŚ! If you keep goinâ, Iâll cuââŚ.Mmmm!!â Your pleas donât stop him; they fuel him to keep pounding into you. Balls deep for him to keep probing you with hits to the narrow end again, and your legs wrap around his waist without you thinking. How could you think? Your head kept pounding along with the climb of your orgasm, trembles climbing up your spine.Â
âWhatâre ya holdin' it frâ, huh?â All it takes is Toji to bend to your ear once more, kissing your cheek as his pelvis slams into your aching slit. âCum, mama. Lemme know how good yâre feelinâ.âÂ
As if on command, your climax hits you hard, like a wave crashing down on your poor form, drowning your senses with euphoria like no other. Your cunt squeezes around Tojiâs girth, your nerves spiking to a sensitive high that has you winded and cold for a moment. And the man above you hisses at the flutter of your walls; his rocking cadence slows down to relish the feeling.
You wail in ecstasy; a tiny sharp gasp leaves you from the gentle kiss he places on your forehead.Â
âThere ya go, sweetie,â he coos with a kiss to the chin before straightening himself. You observe him remove his shirt to dump it onto the floor, and your face becomes hotter when Toji ventures down, where his face gets closer to your wet entrance. â All wet and ready frâ meâŚâ
Š đđ¨đŹđĄđ˘đ đŤđđ˛2024 â reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ⊠dividers by @/benkeibear.
#đŻđđđđ Ëââ§ę°á â ŕťęą â§âË đžđđđđđ: đşđđđđđđđđ#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#toji x reader#toji fushigro x reader#toji smut#toji fushiguro smut#toji x you#toji x y/n#fushiguro toji x reader#fushiguro toji x you#fushiguro toji smut#toji fanfic#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk imagines#anime smut
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donât normally repost full writing pieces but everyone needs to see this IMMEDIATELY
 CW: Intimate caretaker, insecurity (of scars on face), hurt/comfort, panic attack, just some wholesome fluff
When Caretaker hears a scream echo through the halls, theyâve never ran so fast, their first thought being, Whumpee is hurt, or worse⌠Whumper is back, trying to take them again.Â
They barge in the bathroom without a second thought, to find Whumpee is alone and doesnât seem to be injured (more than they already were, anyway), but they look like theyâre on the verge of a panic attack, clutching their knees and violently shaking in the corner of the room.
Jaw clenched tightly, Caretaker makes sure not to make any sudden movements while they assess the situation. âWhumpee⌠Iâm going to sit in front of you, okay?â
Whumpee just cries out in reply, shaking their head.
âYou donât want me to come near you?â
âN-no! I justâ Iâm sorryââ
âHey, itâs okay, shh, I wonât come near you if you donât want me to. Iâm not offended. Can you just tell me if youâre hurt?â
Whumpee sniffs, and buries their head deeper into their arms. âNoâŚâ
Mouth still pursed, Caretaker considers what to do next. They canât just leave them alone like this, and they donât even know if Whumpee is telling the truth. They know how much Whumpee tries hiding their injuries.
âOkay. Do we need to practice breathing?â
âNo, I-Iâm fine.â Whumpeeâs tone suggests otherwise, and they still wonât lift their face from their knees.
Caretaker leans against the doorframe. âIâm right here, Whumpee. Talk to me when youâre ready. Or you donât have to. If you just want to have a lazy day, Iâm not opposed to that, either.â They try to make every day a lazy day for Whumpee. Itâs what they deserve after⌠everything they went through.
After around five minutes of silence, Whumpee says hoarsely, âYou never told me I looked like⌠like this?â
âOh, baby, is that what this is about?â Caretaker curses themself for not realizing sooner, seeing as this is the first time Whumpee has been near a mirror.
âI look like a monââ
âNo. No, donât say that. You do not look like a monster. You look like Whumpee. My amazing, kind, beautiful Whumpee. Not a monster.â
Nostrils flaring, Whumpee stares at the ground, looking more miserable than ever. âThatâs not true. I look like half of my face is⌠is missing!â They start sobbing again.
âSweetheartâŚâ Now Caretaker feels like crying, too. âCan I please hug you?â
Whumpee sobs again and opens their arms, letting Caretaker practically fall to their knees to gather them in their arms. They press kisses to their hair, rocking them back and forth, once again basking in silence for a little longer.
âCan you look at me?â Caretaker asks once Whumpeeâs cries soften. âPlease?â
Sobs turn into sniffles before they finally meet Caretakerâs eyes. Theyâre red and puffy, and they keep blinking as if to clear away tears.
âThere you are,â Caretaker laughs softly. They cup their mostly injured cheek, and run their thumb gently across their skin, careful not to hurt them. âYou see a monster, but you know what I see? I see the bravest, most stunning person I know.â
Whumpee shakes their head. âYouâre just saying thatâŚâ
âThatâs where youâre wrong. You still have those beautiful eyes, you still have your gorgeous hair, and you still have the most kissable face!â They press multiple pecks to Whumpeeâs forehead and cheeks, causing them to laugh. âOh, and how could I forget to mention that adorable laugh?â
âStoooop,â Whumpee chuckles.
They smile. âAnd even if you didnât have all those amazing things, it wouldnât change a single thing in my eyes. Youâre still the same Whumpee I always loved. Okay?â
âOkay.â Whumpee smiles, letting Caretaker wipe the rest of their tears with their thumb.
âIâm glad we can finally come to an agreement. Why donât I make your favorite tonight? Along with your favorite movie?â
âAnd cuddles?â
âYouâre insane if you think Iâd forget cuddles.â They help Whumpee to their feet, and kiss the top of their head again. âI love you, Whumpee. Nothing can or will ever change that.â They look them in the eyes without a shred of disgust or disapproval.Â
Itâs nice to finally be home.
#montammil youâve done it again you beautiful bastard#whump#caretaker x whumpee#whumpee x caretaker#intimate caretaker#whump comfort#protective caretaker#worried caretaker#caretaker#whumpee#tw panic attack
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Back Off, He's Mine
Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: You put an agent in her place after she flirts with Bucky.
Word Count: Over 2.5k
Warnings: Established relationship, violent threats (not against the reader or Bucky), protective vibes, catty behavior, possessive vibes, implied sexy times, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).
A/N: Inspired by an anon ask asking for Bucky's wife to stick up for him. â¤ď¸ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
Bucky stared at you from across the break room table, his pretty blue eyes not blinking as you looked back at him. The two of you were locked in a lengthy staring contest and you didnât want to lose. But as the air in the room began to dry your eyes and he flashed you a beautiful smile, you couldnât stop yourself from blinking. And the moment you did, he struck.
Snatching the last bit of the beloved pastry right from the middle of the table.
âDamn it,â you muttered, crossing your arms when he chuckled. âYou cheated.â
âOh, yeah?â he smirked, making a show of taking a slow bite. Your eyes followed his tongue licking his lips and you pressed your thighs together without thinking. The bastard made eating look sexy and he didnât even take a full bite. He was taunting you. âHow did I do that?â
âYou cheated by existing.â You gestured to him, your smoking hot husband in his black t-shirt and tactical pants. To the person who made those clothes, you saluted them. âAnd you have serum in your veins, so Iâm pretty sure you donât have to blink as much as I do and thatâs an unfair advantage.â
He chuckled again, graciously passing over the last small bite of the pastry. Your eyes lit up in thanks, popping it in your mouth with a moan. It was true love to share food like that. âI donât think thatâs how the serum works,â he teased. âAnd youâre a goddess, so isnât that cheating, too?â
âOkay, but Iâm not actually a goddess,â you countered, though he did make you feel like one.
His eyes softened, leaning across the table and crooking his finger. âYeah, you are,â he whispered, kissing your lips once you met him halfway.
Before you could deepen the kiss, a shrill voice rang out in the breakroom. âSergeant Barnes! There you are!â
Buckyâs cheek twitched as he settled back in his seat. The voice echoing in the room wouldâve been enough to make anyone wince, but his enhanced hearing made it worse. He worked hard to block out noises so heâd be comfortable, and your eyes instantly narrowed at the person who brought him discomfort.
You recognized her after a moment, a pretty woman who would likely fall out of her top if she sneezed too hard. She hadn't worked there long, but she had her eye on Bucky from the start. She always flirted with him, tried to stand close to him and push her chest close, and he always dropped in the conversation that he was a married man. Apparently she didnât get the hint that he wasn't interested. Either that or she was into taken men.
âHi, agent,â Bucky politely said.
âAgent. Always so formal,â she giggled, dragging a chair over from another table and taking a seat without asking. âIâve been looking all over for you, Barnes. You're a hard man to track down.â
Bubbly agents didnât bother you in the slightest. You appreciated anyone who could stay upbeat in the line of work you dealt with. It wasnât the enamored look in her eyes either that bothered you because you understood people wanting Bucky and you were secure in your relationship. No, what bothered you was that he had clearly been kissing his wife and she pointedly avoided looking at you after interrupting. That was just rude.
It also bothered you how uncomfortable Bucky looked when she moved her chair closer to him, his shoulders stiff and smile not reaching his eyes.
âBeen spending some time with my wife,â he said proudly, reaching across the table to take your hand. You dipped your head down with a small smile, your heart still doing that funny flip like it had since the moment you met. He even managed to clear out the room so you two could be alone. âWe were just finishing up.â
She didnât spare you a glance as she set a hand on his metal arm. His cheek twitched again, squeezing your hand. It took a lot of effort for you to not knock her back from the table for touching him without his permission. âExcuse me,â you began, your tone even. âI donât-â
âDo you think you could spar with me later?â she cut you off and either didnât see or ignored your glare, leaning forward in her seat to make her chest stick out more. Bucky didnât look. âIâve been having trouble with a couple of moves and youâre so good at them,â she added, her eyes on him like she wanted to eat him up.
Which wasnât going to happen.
âI don't thinkâŚâ he stopped when her fingers trailed higher.
âPlease, Sergeant?â she pouted.
Your eyes went back to your husband to get a read on him and make sure he was okay. He wasn't. His smile still didn't look right and his back was ramrod straight. Squeezing his hand seemed to ground him since he breathed a little easier, though your anger was simmering.
âI, um, donât mind sparring if you really need the help,â Bucky began, gently pulling his arm away. âBut you interrupted my time with my wife.â
Her smile faltered while yours widened. Bucky didn't like anyone cutting you off, whether that was your time together or interrupting you speaking. âWhat?â she asked.
âHi there. Been sitting here the whole time.â You wiggled your fingers when she finally looked your way. âExcuse us for a second,â you said, avoiding her stare the way she avoided yours. âBucky, do you think you can wait outside? This agent and I need to have a little chat.â
Your husband looked like he was trying not to laugh and you would take laughter over discomfort any day of the week. âBe nice if you can,â he teased, pressing a featherlight kiss to your hand. âI love you, baby,â he whispered.
âI love you, too,â you whispered, something unspoken passing between the two of you.
Defending each other was second nature, always would be.
Bucky didnât immediately leave the room when he stood up. Instead he rounded the table so he could bend down and kiss your mouth, too. You smiled as it lingered, your heart skipping a beat. âDonât keep me waiting out there long, Mrs. Barnes,â he whispered.
âI won't, Mr. Barnes,â you teased, tucking some of his hair behind his ear.
Straightening up, he gave a small nod to the agent for her sake. âCome find me later if you still want to talk about sparring. Maybe I can find someone for you.â
âOkay, Sergeant,â she smiled, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. That look wouldnât last.
You waited until Bucky was gone to face the agent, who stopped smiling the second your husband was out of sight. Leaning back in your seat, you crossed your arms and asked point-blank, âYou trying to fuck my husband?â
The wide-eyed expression was priceless when she realized you weren't asking as a joke. âWhat are you... I just asked him to spar,â she tried to brush it off.
âPlease, don't insult my intelligence,â you said. It was beneath both of you to do so. âI get why you want him. Besides being one of the sexiest creatures to ever exist, heâs a good man. Polite, probably treats you with respect. More than most of the men around here.â
She shifted away from you and nodded. âHe's a nice guy.â
âHe is,â you agreed. They didn't make men like Bucky anymore. âAnd Iâm not going to tell you to stop hitting on my husband, but I highly suggest that you back off. At the very least, donât throw yourself at him right in front of me. Itâs sad.â
âWhy?â She had the nerve to smirk. âWorried Iâll steal him away?â
You smirked, too. She had balls and you respected that, but this wasnât a battle sheâd win. âSteal him away? You make it sound like heâs a toy and he isnât. Heâs a man, my man,â you said, holding up your hand so she could get a good look at your wedding ring. âAnd you are not a threat in the slightest. Our bond is much stronger than that.â
Her smirk went away fast, replaced by something sad. You almost felt sorry for her until she said, âJealousy isn't a good look on you. Itâs kind of⌠ugly.â
You scoffed. If she wanted to play, youâd play. âJealous of what? You hitting on a married man who doesn't want you?â you asked, not feeling guilty in the slightest when her face fell. âIâm not telling you to back off because I'm jealous. I told you that because youâre only going to embarrass yourself if you keep trying and youâre going to make my husband more uncomfortable than he already is. I donât like people making my husband uncomfortable.â
An unspoken threat hung in the air long enough that she swallowed. âAnd how exactly did I make him uncomfortable?â
âBesides you hitting on him, you touched him without making sure it was okay to do so,â you answered, letting a bit of venom seep into your tone. Bucky went years without autonomy and consent was important to you. He suffered enough and didnât need to deal with things like this. âIâd hope as an agent youâd be able to pick up on subtle body language cues enough to know that he didnât want you touching him.â
âAnd how do you know he doesnât want me touching him? Are you a mind reader or something?â she sneered, flicking a nonexistent piece of flint from her shirt. âIf he really didn't want me touching him, he would've said so. And guess what? He didn't say a word.â
You saw red, your hands curling into fists. For her to ignore the nonverbal cues⌠âI know my husband. I know Bucky. He doesnât want you touching him nor does he want to start anything with you because heâs extremely faithful. He wonât throw away a loving, trusting marriage for a quick fuck or doomed affair,â you stated. She bristled, but tried to recover. âIf you make a pass at him, heâll reject you. Heâll do it as respectfully as he can because heâs a good guy, but he will reject you. Thatâs a promise.â
âBecause he loves you so much. Jesus, what makes you so special?â she spat, surprising you both. But the longer you looked at her, the more she deflated under your stare. âI mean⌠He doesnât say much to me, but when he does itâs always about you. âMy wife thisâ and âmy wife thatâ and heâs always so⌠proud.â She shook her head. âDo you know how lucky you are?â
You did feel a little sorry for her now. Crushes hurt, but better that she hurt now and heal than to keep pushing and hurt more later. âIâm not special. We just love each other, thatâs all. And, trust me, Iâm aware that Iâm very lucky to have him. Someone who gets me and will fight for and beside me,â you said, a loving smile touching your lips. You hoped Bucky was listening outside the door. âThereâs a guy out there waiting for you, but that guy isnât Bucky. So donât lower yourself by trying to go after someone whoâs taken.â
She side-eyed you, crossing her arms over her ample chest. âAnd what if I donât stop?â she asked.
You giggled humorously, all sympathy gone. The agent actually looked nervous at that sound and you were glad because you weren't going to play nice. âWell, if you don't back off, Bucky could make a complaint about you harassing him or at least request that youâre transferred. Maybe fired since youâre still in your probationary period,â you began, looking at your wedding band when she began to protest. âAt the very least, I could have your schedule rearranged so you can spar with me. You see, Bucky taught me a few moves and if a bone or two breaks, wellâŚâ
It wasn't an empty threat either. Bucky loved fighting for you, but you could hold your own. It turned him on.
Her eyes darted to the door when you stood up and stretched. âListen, you don't need to-â
âBut do you know what I'm going to do for now?â you asked, cutting her off the way she cut you off. âI'm going to take my husband to one of the interrogation rooms and suck the soul out of his body through his incredible cock,â you smiled sweetly, taking pleasure in the sputtering sound she made. âAnd after he recovers, heâll have the choice of bending me over the table and either eating or fucking my pussy. Heâll probably choose both. Heâs pretty insatiable.â
She got to her feet, too, and you half expected to see smoke come out of her ears. âI don't need to hearââ
âWhat? Does hearing that Bucky is going to fuck me and not you make you uncomfortable?â you asked innocently before you got close to her. âShove your tits in my husband's face again or touch him without his explicit consent, and I won't just make you uncomfortable. Iâll make your life a living hell.â
While you lost the staring contest to Bucky earlier, you very much won against this agent. She stood perfectly still and averted her gaze as you pushed your chair in. âIs that a threat?â she mumbled.
A cliche question, so why not give a cliche answer? âItâs a promise,â you smiled, heading to the door. âOh, if he does decide to spar with you, I expect you to apologize and behave yourself. Iâll hear about it if you don't.â
Bucky leaned against the wall, waiting for you as you exited the room. He looked over the moon. âWeâre going to one of the interrogation rooms, huh?â
You giggled, taking his hand as your cheeks warmed. âOf course, that's what you took from that.â
âHow could I not?â he asked, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. âThanks, baby. I thought I dropped enough hints that sheâd back off.â
âNothing to thank me for,â you assured him. He deserved to be comfortable at work. If some guy kept hitting on you, he would've stepped in, too.
âYou think sheâll back off now?â
âI think so, but you tell me if she doesn't,â you said. Youâd keep an eye on her, too, just in case. And if she pushed again, youâd put her back in her place. Maybe youâd make her listen while Bucky fucked you. With his permission, of course. âSo, which room should we go to?â
He chuckled, the sound a happy one in the hall. âRoom B. We can be as loud as we want,â he replied, tugging you closer. âIâll show you just how special you are to me.â
Heat filled your body, anticipating how good it would feel to have him fuck your throat and more. âMy body is ready, Sergeant,â you teased, shrieking when he picked you up and ignoring the whistles from other agents that walked by.
They were used to the shenanigans of Mr. and Mrs. Barnes by now.
And you couldn't wait for more.
Just like we deserve a loving Bucky, he deserves love, too. â¤ď¸ Love and thanks for reading! â¤ď¸
Masterlist â Bucky Barnes Masterlist â Ko-Fi
#navybrat writes#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes imagine#james buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#sebastian stan#the winter soldier#husband!bucky barnes#sebastian stan x reader#bucky x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky fanfic#bucky imagine#x reader#james bucky buchanan barnes#mr. and mrs. barnes#winter soldier#winter soldier x reader#bucky fic#bucky x you
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Hello, I would like to make an obscene yandere request to Aemond Targaryen for a cousin who is a Helen of Troy, she never met her cousins ââand Gwayne locked her in the lighthouse because the children in Antigua have already declared duels and fights for her, please
âAlexa play Angel by Massive Attack.â
A Beauty Too Tempting
pairing | aemond x cousin!reader word count | 5.4k summary | when aemond targaryen learns of his cousinâa beauty so captivating that men are willing to die for youâhe becomes dangerously obsessed, determined to claim you for himself. tags | 18+ MDNI! smut, p in v, slight dubcon, fingering, oral sex (f) receiving, possessive sex, rough sex, virginity kink, breeding kink, obsession, dirty talk, no description for reader, creampie, religious guilt, guys this was crazzzyyy, yandere aemond, delusional aemond, obsessive aemond. a/n | this was such an interesting and creative prompt, damnnnn. also I think this might be the best smut I've ever written. KEEP BOTH HANDS ON THE PHONE (NOT PROOFREAD)
likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated â¨
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Aemond had finally ascended.
His reckless, wine-soaked brother was a shadow of the past, burnt and broken beyond repair. Though the Seven Kingdoms still called him âPrince Regent,â Aemond knew he held the true power of a kingâand wielded the might of a dragon unmatched in all the realm.
He was Prince Regent, yes, but also the rider of Vhagar, the Queen of Dragons, the slayer of Daemon Targaryen, the butcher of his treacherous half-sister and her rabble of bastards.
At Godâs Eye, he had cast Daemon down, wresting from him the title of warrior to which he clung so stubbornly. And when Alys Strongâs deceit led him astray, she too had met the edge of his blade, her charms and false promises extinguished in the cold stone of Harrenhalâs dungeons. Now, what was left of his family was but the bones of the house.
Only his mother and his niece remained, the ones bound by duty and blood. Helaena, broken by grief and driven mad with sorrow, had thrown herself from her chamber balcony, finding an end that her shattered mind had long sought. Aegon, the crownâs fool, lay in a stupor of smoke and agony, burned and nearly lifeless after his fall from Moondancerâs flames.
But Aemond ruled nowâhis alone was the realmâs rightful power. The Seven Kingdoms were his to bend, as was his every desire. He had broken his betrothal to the Baratheon girl without a second thought; a warlord and dragonrider of his stature deserved a bride worthy of his legend. He was the last dragon of House Targaryen, and his queen would be a beauty revered, one whose grace and purity might rival the Maiden herself.
And that was when Aemond first heard of you.
Fleeting whispers had reached him from Oldtown, speaking of his uncle Gwayneâs daughterâa maiden so beautiful that men spoke of you as if you were touched by the gods. Tales claimed you had been cloistered away in the Watchtowerâs highest chamber, veiled to protect the eyes and sanity of any man who caught sight of you.
There, concealed behind shadows and stone, you were kept far from the reach of suitors who risked life and honor in duels, each vying for even a single glimpse of your face.
Your father, Ser Gwayne Hightower, had fallen in the fires of the Dance, and your mother had died bearing you, leaving you alone in that desolate towerâan unclaimed jewel, hidden and waiting.
The thought stirred something fierce within Aemond. He would go to you, he decided. He would see this beauty so lauded, this Hightower daughter untouched by the worldâs corruptions, and he would decide if you were worthy to become his Queen, his Targaryen bride. For if your beauty proved true, you would belong to him alone, bound by devotion and a loyalty owed only to the dragon and its rider.
After landing Vhagar just outside Oldtown, Aemond took a horse into the city, riding with the air of a conqueror. But even he was taken aback by the scene awaiting him. High walls surrounded the Watchtower of House Hightower, fortified and stern, yet it was the gathering outside that seized his attention.
Hundreds of men crowded the courtyard and spilled into the streets, shouting, some nearly brawling as they jostled against one another. Their voices rose in a fervent cacophony, names and cries echoing like a battle chant.
Aemondâs gaze swept over them with disdain. Fools, all of them, clamoring over the mere hope of being in your presence. As he approached the Towerâs gates, the guards lowered their spears and bowed their heads, recognizing the rider of Vhagar, the One-Eyed Prince who now held the realm in his grip.
They opened the gates without question, allowing him through to the Towerâs base, where a young servant girl waited nervously.
She kept her eyes down as she led him up the spiraling stairway to the highest chamber. But Aemondâs curiosity simmered, and his tone was sharp when he finally spoke. âWho are these men gathered outside? What madness drives them to swarm like starving wolves?â
The servantâs face went pale, but she dared to glance up briefly, voice trembling. âTheyâre suitors, my princeâŚmen from every corner of the realm. Many have traveled from the Reach and the Riverlands, even as far as Dorne and the North, all to seek my ladyâs hand.â
Aemondâs eye narrowed, a dark satisfaction curling at the edge of his lips. While the Dance Of Dragons had gone on, you had become something of a legendâa prize for fools and hopeful knights. But you were not for them.
âLet them scream themselves hoarse,â he murmured coldly, mostly to himself, as they reached the final stretch of the climb. His voice softened, though the weight of his words was fierce. âBy nightfall, they will know she belongs to me alone.â
The servant kept her gaze down, fearful of the silent promises in his tone. They finally reached the door to the high chamber, and with a deep breath, she pushed it open, bowing as he strode past her.
As Aemond stepped inside, the air was thick with expectation, and he knew: he would let none of those suitors have youânot while he still breathed.
A figure stood near the narrow window, framed by the dim light filtering through the high stone walls. Draped in a gown as pale as starlight, a delicate veil fell over your hair and face, obscuring your features with an ethereal softness.
You looked less like a woman of flesh and blood, more like some forgotten goddess cast down from the heavens, your beauty hidden behind gauze and shadow. Almost nervously, the servant girl who had led Aemond withdrew, sparing one last, uncertain glance before closing the heavy door, leaving him alone with the lady in white.
The room was silent but for the faint rustle of fabric as the veiled woman turned, your movements graceful yet guarded. You saw himâa tall, imposing figure shrouded in the black and crimson of House Targaryen, his silver hair gleaming like the steel at his hip.
Though your vision was blurred by the veil, there was no mistaking him. Even in the isolated walls of your tower, you had heard tales of him, whispered rumors that crept into your dreams. Aemond Targaryenâthe One-Eyed Kinslayer, the dragonrider who had torn through his own blood, leaving most of House Targaryen ashes in his wake.
A shiver coursed through you as you lowered your head, barely daring to meet his single, penetrating gaze. You bent your head respectfully and murmured, âYour grace.â
At the sound of your voiceâsoft and lilting, as if it had drifted down from the heavensâAemondâs breath hitched, and he paused, his gaze never wavering. You sounded like the very embodiment of the myths that had reached him, a voice so pure it defied the violence that had carved his path to you.
He took slow, deliberate steps toward you, each one bringing him closer to the veiled creature he had come to claim. âI am not only your Prince Regent,â he said, his voice low, almost reverent. âI am your kin as well.â
You nodded, your lashes fluttering beneath the veil. âOf courseâŚcousin,â you replied shyly, your voice no more than a murmur, though it reached him clearly in the silence of the chamber.
Aemondâs lips curved, a hint of satisfaction flickering across his face as he closed the distance between you. âYou must know,â he continued, his tone possessive yet calm, âthat I have not come all this way merely out of kinship. You are spoken of as if you were a queen in waitingâŚyour beauty, your grace. Men would kill for a single look upon your face.â
Your cheeks warmed beneath the veil, though you dared not lift your head. The idea of such fierce, consuming attention unsettled you, yet you could not deny the pull he exerted on your sensesâa dark, magnetic power that seemed to draw you closer, even as your instinct told you to step back.
âAnd now,â Aemond murmured, lifting a hand toward you, fingers ghosting over the edge of your veil, âit is I who have come to see if these tales hold truth. To decide if you are worthyâŚto stand beside me as my queen.â He let the words hang in the air, laden with meaning, with possession.
Beneath the veil, your lips parted, your heartbeat echoing in your ears. The One-Eyed Prince had not come to court or woo you like the other men clamoring below; he had come to claim you, with a certainty that brooked no refusal.
âTell me, cousin,â he whispered, his tone heavy with dark intent, a veiled promise lying beneath each word. âWould you defy me if I named you mine?â
He drew closer, his fingers brushing against yours, sending a shiver through you as your heart hammered against your ribs. The weight of his claim felt as tangible as the stone walls around you, and in that instant, you knew defiance was a luxury that held no place here.
Before you could gather the breath to respond, Aemondâs hand rose toward your veil, his fingertips hovering just above its delicate fabric. A sense of desperation seized you, and your voice broke through the silence, raw and pleading. âDonât! Please⌠I only wish to spare you.â
Aemondâs lips curved in a faint, humorless chuckle, his eye gleaming with something far more dangerous than mere amusement. âSpare me?â he murmured, as though the very idea amused him.
âYou misunderstand, cousin. I do not seek to be saved.â His voice softened, yet the iron in his tone was unmistakable. âI seek only to behold my future wife.â
Your heart raced, every instinct urging you to step back, but your body seemed to betray you, rooted to the spot as Aemond reached out, his fingers grazing the edge of your veil. Slowly, deliberately, he lifted it, casting the thin fabric away and laying bare the face that had haunted his imagination.
The moment the veil fell, silence claimed the room, broken only by Aemondâs sharp intake of breath. His gaze devoured each feature of your face, sweeping over you with an intensity that bordered on reverence, as if he were drinking in the sight of a rare and coveted treasure.
He exhaled slowly, a low growl rumbling in his chest as his fingers traced a line along your cheek, his touch both possessive and tender. âBeautifulâŚâ he breathed, his voice thick with awe and something deeper, something darker. âFar more than any tale could capture. You are⌠a vision.â
A flicker of fear mingled with the warmth on your cheeks, and you dared to lift your gaze to his, the intensity of his stare almost unbearable. He studied you, and you sensed it was not mere admiration that darkened his eye, but hungerâa need so consuming it seemed to radiate from him.
âFrom this day forward,â he murmured, his thumb brushing the line of your jaw, âyou are mine. And I⌠I will allow no one, not even the gods, to take you from me.â
Your breath caught as Aemondâs fingers ghosted over your skin, sparking a fire that seemed to radiate through every inch of you. For a fleeting moment, your eyelids fluttered closed, helplessly savoring the sensation. But reality, sharp and undeniable, tore them open again, reminding you where you stoodâand with whom.
âC-Cousin, pleaseâŚâ you murmured, your voice trembling as your hands pressed against the hard plane of his chest, a fragile attempt to create space. âThis⌠this cannot be. You should notâŚâ
The words stumbled from your lips, half-hearted at best, even as your body betrayed you, arching subtly toward him, drawn like steel to a magnet. A flush of warmth rose beneath your skin, pooling in your cheeks, and beneath the thin fabric of your gown, your nipples peaked, aching under his gaze. The rush of sensations nearly overwhelmed you, each one more intoxicating than the last.
Aemondâs lips curved in a knowing, wicked smile, his eye gleaming as he took in your struggle, your futile attempts at resistance. He leaned in closer, his face mere inches from yours, so close that his breath mingled with yours, warm and heady.
âWrong?â he murmured, his voice a dark, velvet caress, each syllable dripping with unrestrained desire. âThere is no wrong between us, cousin. Only what was always meant to beâŚonly fate and desire.â
Your heart raced, pounding against his chest, each beat echoing the dangerous thrill of his words. His hand slipped to the nape of your neck, his touch firm and possessive, as though he could bind you to him with that single gesture. He tilted your head ever so slightly, his mouth hovering just above yours, his gaze burning with intent.
âWe are bound by blood,â he whispered, his words low and fervent, âby something far stronger than any foolish notion of right or wrong.â His lips brushed the corner of your mouth, a featherlight touch that set your skin alight. âDo you not feel it, the way I do?â
You barely managed a nod, your mind clouded by the closeness, by the undeniable pull of him. With a fluid, almost predatory grace, Aemondâs arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you firmly against him, so close you could feel every contour of his lean frame pressing into yours.
His chest was a wall of heat, solid beneath your touch, and your breath hitched as you became all too aware of the hardness pressing insistently against your belly.
âLet me guide you,â he whispered, his mouth brushing the shell of your ear, his breath warm and laced with promise, âto pleasures beyond the realm of mortal imagination.â His voice was low, dark, each word dripping with seduction as he continued, âYield to me, and I shall make you mine in ways the world could scarcely comprehend.â
Every syllable curled around you, dissolving your remaining resistance like morning mist. Against all sense, your body softened, your resolve unraveling beneath his spell. Aemondâs words, woven with desire and power, coaxed you toward surrender. You melted against him, instinctively seeking the warmth he offered, your heart racing as his grip on you tightened possessively.
âCousinâŚâ you whispered, barely a breath, a mingling of plea and prayer.
Aemondâs lips curved, and he let out a soft, almost condescending click of his tongue, a smirk flickering in his eye. âI ask for so little,â he said, his tone deceptively light before his voice softened, becoming tender, almost reverent.
âSimply allow me to reign over you, to be the master of your heart and soul. Give me your loyalty, your love, your fear⌠let me own you in spirit and in flesh. Do that,â he murmured, his mouth grazing your jawline, âand I will serve you, worship you, slave to your every desire.â
A tremor ran through you as his hand drifted lower, fingers grazing the swell of your breast. Your nipple pebbled instantly, a jolt of pleasure-pain shooting straight to your core. You gasped, your hips involuntarily rolling against his straining erection.
âPlease... â you whimpered, your resistance breaking in the face of such carnal temptation. âI-I am a maiden, a child of the Seven.â
A low chuckle rumbled in Aemond's chest as he felt your delicate form yield to his touch, your body betraying its innate desire despite your protests. His fingers curled around the plump mound of your breast, kneading the soft flesh through the thin fabric of your gown.
âChild no longer,â he rasped, his thumb circling your aching nipple, coaxing it to an even harder peak. âMaidenhood ends today, and a woman shall be born.â
With a swift tug, he ripped the laces of the front of your gown, exposing the swells of your breasts to his hungry gaze. He palmed them roughly, thumbs teasing the stiff peaks as he claimed your mouth in a searing kiss, plundering the sweetness within with his tongue.
"Mine," he growled against your lips, his hands roaming your body possessively
Your cry of shock morphed into a moan of ecstasy as Aemond's mouth ravaged yours, his dominant presence swallowing your very essence. The rough handling of your breasts sent sparks of delight coursing through your veins, your nipples throbbing in time with the pounding of your heart.
"No...no," you breathed against his lips, the words tumbling out unbidden. "This is wrong... this is sinful."
Ignoring your feeble protests, Aemond continued to explore your body with unrestrained lust. His hands roamed freely over your curves, tracing the contours of your body with a reverence usually reserved for sacred texts.
âSinful indeed,â his voice was a husky purr against your lips. âYet how sweetly addictive it tastes.â
His hands trailed lower, bunching your skirts to your waist to find the damp curls at the apex of your thighs. He groaned at the wetness he found there, a testament to your body's readiness for him.
âSuch a delectable little cunt...â he whispered, his fingers slipping between your folds to test your readiness.
Your head fell back, exposing the vulnerable column of your throat as Aemond's skilled fingers delved deeper, stroking your slickened flesh with a confident touch. A shudder rippled through you, your hips canting upwards in desperate pursuit of more.
âP-please...â you gasped, your voice trembling with devastation. âI...I've never...â
Aemond's knowing smirk only heightened your mortification, yet it couldn't quell the inferno building inside you. Your body was aflame, craving the release only he could provide.
âI'm afraid...â you murmured though your eyes were glazed with desire.
Aemond's eye gleamed with triumph as he watched you squirm under his touch, your innocence and inexperience only fueling his desire. He pressed a finger inside you, feeling your tight walls clench around the invading digit.
âFear not, sweet cousin,â he cooed, his voice dripping with false reassurance. âI will be gentle... at first.â
He pumped his finger slowly, savoring the exquisite sensation of your virgin passage yielding to his touch. His thumb circled your pearl, applying just enough pressure to send jolts of pleasure racing through your nerves.
âYou're doing wonderfully,â he praised, his free hand sliding up your thigh to grip your hip firmly. âNow, let's see if we can't coax out that pretty little scream, hmm?â
Your mind reeled, struggling to comprehend the onslaught of sensations assaulting your senses. Aemond's fingers moved within you with a practiced ease, each thrust and twist sending waves of pleasure crashing over you.
âN-no...stop!â you managed to choke out, even as your body betrayed you, arching into his touch. âIt's too much!â
Aemond's grin widened, his eye flashing with dark amusement at your futile attempts to resist. He withdrew his fingers, leaving you empty and aching for more.
âFoolish girl,â he chided, his tone dripping with condescension. âYou crave this, every bit of it. Your body knows what it wants, even if your mind doesn't.â
He seized your wrists, pinning them above your head against the window as he loomed over you, his face inches from yours. His hot breath fanned across your cheeks, carrying the scent of smoke and masculine musk.
âNow, be a good little maiden and spread your legs for me,â he commanded, his voice low and commanding. âLet me taste you.â
Your chest heaved with ragged breaths, your body thrumming with a mix of fear and exhilaration as Aemond's dominance asserted itself. Despite your reservations, a traitorous part of you yearned for the promised pleasure, your core clenching in anticipation.
"N-no...I won't...â you stammered, even as your thighs trembled, betraying your resolve. Aemond's grip on your wrists tightened, his fingers digging into your soft flesh as he forced you to submit.
âPlease...â the word escaped your lips before you could stop it, a plea for mercy that sounded suspiciously like a plea for more, though confusion filled you, âWhy would you wish to taste me?â
Aemond's gaze raked over your trembling form, drinking in every quiver and gasp with sadistic delight. He leaned closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he spoke, his words dripping with dark promise.
"Because, my dear cousin," he purred, "I want to devour every inch of you until you forget your own name. Until all you know is my touch, my taste, my possession."
With a wicked grin, he released your wrists, only to grab your waist and throw you down upon your bed. You had no time to react before he settled between your legs, his shoulders pushing your thighs apart as he lowered his head, his hot breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh.
Your heart raced, pounding in your ears as Aemond's words painted a vivid picture of degradation and desire. You felt exposed, vulnerable, and utterly at his mercy as he positioned himself between your spread thighs.
âAnd then, once I've had my fill,â he continued, his tongue darting out to trace the seam of your slit, âI'll make you beg for more.â
âNo...please...â your protests dissolved into a whimper as his tongue made contact with your aching sex, the wet heat of it sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body.
Aemond chuckled darkly at your feeble attempts to resist, the vibrations of his laughter sending shivers through your core. He increased the pressure of his tongue, lapping at your slick folds with relish, savoring the taste of your arousal.
âIt's too much...I c-can't take it...â even as you spoke, your hips bucked upward, seeking more of that intoxicating sensation. Your hands flew to his head, tangling in his hair as you tried to pull him closer, to grind yourself against his questing mouth.
âYou lie, sweet cousin,â he murmured against your flesh, his voice muffled but unmistakable. âYou crave this, crave me. Your body sings for me, begs for my touch.â
He sucked gently on your pearl, the suction pulling a sharp cry from your lips. His fingers dug into your hips, holding you in place as he feasted on your cunt, his skillful tongue driving you closer to the edge with each passing moment.
âRelease for me,â he commanded, his eye locking onto yours, burning with an intense, possessive hunger. âLet go and give me everything.â
Your entire being was consumed by the inferno of pleasure that Aemond ignited within you. His words, his touch, his very presence overwhelmed your senses until nothing existed beyond the coil of ecstasy winding tighter and tighter in your core.
âAhh...oh gods...Aemond!â your cries echoed off the stone walls as you said his name for the first time and he pushed you relentlessly towards your peak. Your back arched off the bed, your nails raking down his scalp as you held him close, grinding shamelessly against his face.
âYes...yes! Don't stop...please don't stop...â you babbled incoherently, lost to the maelstrom of sensation. And then, with a final flick of his tongue, you shattered, your release ripping through you with the force of a tidal wave.
As your climax crashed over you, Aemond drank in your essence, reveling in the taste of your release. He lapped at your spasming cunt, prolonging your pleasure until you finally went limp beneath him, panting and dazed.
âBeautiful,â he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction as he gazed up at your flushed face. He crawled up your body, claiming your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep to plunder the sweetness of your mouth.
âNow, let us see how well you respond to other pleasures,â he murmured against your lips, his hand sliding down to cup your breast, thumbing your nipple into a stiff peak. âWe have only just begun to explore the depths of your devotion.â
Your mind reeled, struggling to process the intensity of what had just transpired. Aemond's control over your body was absolute, leaving you weak and pliant in his grasp. Yet even as you trembled with aftershocks of pleasure, a thrill of anticipation coursed through you at his words.
âOther pleasure?â you managed to stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. Despite the fear that lingered, a spark of curiosity ignited within you, drawing you deeper into the unknown realm Aemond promised to show you.
âWhat do you mean?â you asked, your breasts heaving with each ragged breath as he fondled them. The sensation of his calloused palm against your tender flesh sent jolts of pleasure-pain straight to your core, making you ache for more.
Aemond's smile was a wicked curve of his lips as he watched your reaction, delighting in the way your body responded to his touch.
He leaned in, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, âI speak of the exquisite agonies of pleasure, cousin. The kind that make you scream and beg for mercy even as you crave more. The sort that leave you trembling and spent, yet yearning for the next touch, the next thrust...â
His hand slid lower, fingers tracing the juncture of your thighs before dipping into your drenched folds. He circled your sensitive pearl, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp.
âShall I show you these delights, Beloved? Shall I push you to the very brink of madness and back again, all for my own entertainment?â
A shiver ran down your spine at Aemond's words, a delicious chill that mixed with the heat building inside you. His touch was both gentle and ruthless, coaxing out responses you didn't know you possessed. Your hips bucked involuntarily as he stroked your most intimate places, seeking more friction and relief.
âY-yes please...â you breathed, the word torn from you on a moan. Your hands came up to tangle in his long silver hair, holding him close as if to anchor yourself against the storm of sensations he unleashed.
Aemond's fingers danced across your sensitive flesh, pushing you higher and higher until you teetered on the edge of another release. Your vision blurred, your lungs burned for air, and still he teased, denying you the release you craved.
âPlease...I need more,â you whined.
Aemond chuckled low in his throat, the sound sending vibrations through your quivering form. He released your pearl, his fingers trailing up your inner thigh before gripping your hip possessively.
âMore, hmm?â
He leaned back, his piercing gaze drinking in every flush of color on your skin, every hitch of your breath. âVery well, cousin. Let us see how you fare against my cock.â
With a swift motion, he shed his trousers, freeing his rigid length. It stood proud and unyielding, the tip already glistening with pearly wetness. Aemond grasped your ankles, spreading your legs wide as he positioned himself between them.
Your eyes widened as Aemond revealed his manhood, the sight of it making your mouth go dry. The size and shape were intimidating, but a part of you thrilled at the prospect of being stretched so completely. You nodded, unable to find your voice as he spread your legs wider, exposing you fully to his hungry gaze.
âAre you ready to be filled, to be claimed in the most primal way possible?â He asked, his voice a husky growl.
"Yes...â you managed to whisper, your heart pounding in your chest.
Aemond's grip on your ankles tightened as he aligned himself with your entrance. The head of his cock pressed against your slick folds, and you could feel the heat radiating off him. You bit your lip, bracing yourself for the intrusion.
âPlease don't hurt me,â you whispered, your voice tinged with desperation.
Aemond's expression softened slightly at your plea, though the intent in his eye remained unchanged - a fierce, almost feral hunger. He leaned down, his lips brushing your ear as he murmured, âI would never harm you, sweetling," he paused, "at least not unless you begged me to."
With that, he surged forward, his thick cock driving into your welcoming heat in one powerful stroke. Your cry echoed through the chamber as you were split open around him, your body stretching to accommodate his impressive girth.
âFuck, you're tight,â he groaned, pausing for a moment to let her adjust. His hips flexed, pulling nearly all the way out before plunging back in, setting a relentless pace. So fucking perfect...
A sharp cry tore from your throat as Aemond's massive cock impaled you, the sudden invasion sending shockwaves of pleasure-pain through your core. You arched your back, nails digging into his shoulders as he began to move within you, each thrust driving deeper and harder than the last.
"Gods...it's too much..." you panted, struggling to breathe through the intensity of the sensation. âYou're so big...â
Despite the discomfort, your body seemed to mold itself to his, craving the stretch and fullness he provided. Your inner walls clenched around him, trying to draw him in even further.
âMore...give me more...â you whimpered, your hips rising to meet his punishing rhythm.
Aemond grunted in satisfaction at your wanton pleas, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor. The obscene slap of skin against skin filled the room, punctuated by your keening cries.
âThat's it, take it all,â he growled, his hand fisting in your hair as he angled your head back. âScream for me, let everyone hear how thoroughly I'm claiming you.â
His free hand slid between your joined bodies, finding your swollen pearl and rubbing mercilessly. The dual stimulation had you writhing beneath him, your body wound tighter than a bowstring.
"Come for me, Beloved,â Aemond demanded, his voice rough with lust. âCome on my cock like the desperate little maiden you are.â
The words fell from Aemond's lips like honeyed poison, stoking the flames of your desire until they consumed you whole. Your release crashed over you like a tidal wave, your vision blurring at the edges as ecstasy coursed through your veins.
âYes! Oh gods, yes!â you screamed, your voice echoing off the stone walls.
Your inner muscles spasmed wildly around Aemond's pistoning cock, milking him for all he was worth. The pressure building at the base of your spine reached a fever pitch before exploding outward in a burst of pure bliss.
âAemond!â your name was a ragged gasp as you convulsed beneath him, wave after wave of pleasure washing over you.
Aemond threw his head back with a triumphant roar as your orgasm triggered his own. His cock pulsed inside you, spilling his hot seed deep into your clencing cunt. Each jet seemed to last an eternity, marking you as his in the most primal way possible.
âTake it all,â he snarled, grinding his pelvis against yours to ensure every drop was absorbed by your eager flesh. âYou're mine now, forever and always.â
As the final spurts subsided, Aemond collapsed onto you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. He nuzzled into the crook of your neck, breathing heavily as he savored the aftermath of their coupling.
When Aemond's release flooded your womb, you felt a sense of profound completion wash over you. Your body went limp beneath him, utterly spent yet deeply satisfied.
âYours...â you echoed softly, the word falling from your kiss-swollen lips in a daze. âForever and always...â
As exhaustion tugged at you, your limbs grew heavy, and the events of the day settled over you like a warm, thick blanket. Nestled in Aemondâs arms, you felt a strange comfort, a warmth youâd scarcely known, drawing you closer into his embrace as sleep beckoned. The solid strength of him, the steady rhythm of his breathingâit was all that held you tethered as your eyes drifted shut.
âRest now, my love,â he murmured, his voice a low, satisfied rasp, laced with a possessiveness that left no doubt of his intentions. âWe have much to discuss when youâve recovered.â
Even as you slipped into the gentle embrace of sleep, Aemond remained vigilant, his gaze never leaving you. His mind churned with plans and possibilities, already anticipating the obstacles that lay ahead. He knew that securing his claim upon youâupon both of youâwould not come easily.
His arm tightened around you, a silent vow to protect, to possess, to keep you from any force that might try to tear you from him. Whatever it took, no matter the cost, you would remain his. He would allow no other fate.
A faint, triumphant smile touched his lips as he studied your sleeping face, taking in the softness of your features, the way your hair curled against your cheek. Tonight, he would let himself bask in the satisfaction of knowing you were his, that he had claimed your body and heart as surely as he had marked it.
âSleep well, my queen,â he whispered, reaching out to brush a stray curl from your brow with uncharacteristic gentleness. His thumb lingered a moment, tracing the curve of your cheek, committing every detail to memory.
âTomorrow, I take you to your new home.â
HOPE YOU ENJOYED!
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