#is that statement a blessing or a curse?
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May the stars guide you
#is that statement a blessing or a curse?#atleast he was honorable to the end#honestly last life is like my most favorite season to date#WOO LAST LIFE#i was just scrolling through pinterest and saw a template and went#that would be perfect for scott!#so here we are#trafficblr#traffic life#traffic life series#last life#life series#life series smp#life series winners#life smp#life series fanart#scott smajor fanart#scott smajor#smajor#smajor fanart#smajor1995#bre4yd art
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Huh 🧐 Interesting...
Guess what appeared on my twitter timeline today.
Drags image for drawing reference
Other images in the collab below cut
#kaishin#dcmk#detective conan#Why do they look like they're getting married#Look at the bouquet on one of the designs!!!#I'd like to think Kaito specifically picked those out#GET A ROOM!!!#So after I posted this I seen that people said it looks like they've JUST got married#I agree with this statement!!#Also I love that the merch team never changes KID's outift for merch collabs so Shinichi had to match him#ALSO IM VERY NORMAL ABOUT THIS#VERY#:))))))))))))))))))))))))))))#Kaito would defo wear his KID attire to his wedding just going by how much the merch team loves to keep him in this god damn outfit#bless the merch team#But also CURSE YOU GOSHOOOOOOO!!!!#RAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
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oh for fs sake 🤣
youtube
#the curse and blessing of Pavel knowing of Charlies tiddy k!nk 🍼#that's probably the 3rd or 4th time Pavel made the tiddy milk joke in a live event#also that first statement is a lie#as if he didn't send drunk voice messages in his IG broadcast more than once lol#pit babe the series#poohpavel#pooh krittin#pavel phoom#charlie x babe#Youtube
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Anyone else think short form social media based on algorithms designed to promote topics that create more engagement instead of more joy, the idea of fast fashion but conveyed through social media, and the fact you can monetize suffering and outrage better than ever has largely resulted in the death spiral of media literacy and the mass emergence of bad faith readings?
#I may be venting a lil but god it blows my mind#fyp is a blessing and a curse because i don't think ppl were ever meant to be subjected to this many ppl at once#god i took a bird site hiatus for weeks and now BARELY check it and it already feels like a hit#oughhhhh#even fandom spaces have hugely incorporated marketing and networking into them bc of cmms and sponsorship and building portfolio#which would be fine tbh if it weren't for the way socmed is designed#now it's like you can't support too many ppl or else you're shadow banned or you have to make yourself palatable and marketable#and websites with threads in which people will only read the first post before qrting because ratios are seen as five minutes of fame#features that permit beating an algorithm are locked behind a paywall that promises you money if you go viral#and what goes viral is usually incendiary content meant for those ratios or trends. whether for or against OP#even in hobbyist spaces the climate has changed so much due to the monetization and marketing and just. ugh#not to mention side accounts dedicated to gossip in this new priv account culture like...idk#if you have to make another account so you can make fun of a friend on main with selected priv friends it just doesn't sit well with me#and not every priv account does this but enough do and it makes me tired#unsolicited hate comments are still as bad as they used to be on ff dot net except now people openly are proud of it more#why do most socmed feel like passive aggressive sticky notes on high school lockers#there is so much more I could say about everything that has left me weary about the internet but I don't know the time or place#and I don't want anyone to think this is about them because it's a general statement. though if you are doing the more inflammatory things.#maybe rethink that. it's not good for anyone else and it's not good for you either#I keep coming back online to check on ppl and see art and I *know* it's draining for my health every time#but I feel a lot better now that i use socmed less overall. and that I try to focus on what makes me happy#it just sucks seeing so many people i care about endure absolutely wild struggles bc people online do not care.#I like rambling in my tags because this is the only place I ramble except my personal journal and to my wife
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You know how you can tell purgatory is ran by the Federation? Most vods I've seen had people complaining about phantoms, but the moment QSMP spirits' favored Foolish yells in chat for the admins to turn the off and rage quits for a moment to center himself l he returns to phantoms being disabled.
#q!foolish#I feel the need to retract my doomed by the narrative statement now#I forgot they had the island blessed totem on their team#Bolas is the farthest from being the cursed as it comes
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ive written a number of thasmin scenes that echo the 12x7 "ive been where you are" and sea devils beach scene from a number of slightly different angles on yazs emotional position in it, but what i havent done yet is give it a fleabag "it'll pass" sorta vibe where we repurpose "moments change" to turn it into an expression of disillusionment
#am i making sense#thinking of karvanista's 'i wouldve done anything for you'#and of yazs headspace in this fic im writing which is not quite at this point#or more accurately. not deeply at this point. superficially it's close but in the foundation she still loves the doctor#thats where the frustration comes from#but she is very tired and not hiding it 'i adjusted my expectations ages ago'#but like it's not too hard to imagine pushing yaz to a place where this exhaustion is not just like the surface expression of the fear of#losing the doctor#but instead goes down deeper than that and turns out to actually be this realisation that maybe she'd prefer losing the doctor#you know what i mean?#future yaz meeting present yaz and being like 'ive been where you are (in love with her still). moments change'#present yaz being half 'can you promise?' and half 'i'll never be you'#'i'll never be you' <- curse/blessing. despair/resistance#very much echoing 13s attitude to 15 in this fic#i wonder if i could write another sequel with yaz like that#i dont think so but it'd be cool#despair/resistance really feels like. thesis statement of yaz and 13 a little bit#theyre an anti-suicide pact and theyre also a shared self-destruction
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my first impression of you was definitely the underrated adversaries blog. i am certain that i meant to submit my blorbo (fandom so small i befriended the author. which is worth it bc hes super cool but still sad because the game makes me want to chew drywall) but i dont know if i ever did
my current impression of u is that id like to b friends with u. sniffs ur hand cautiously. also that u like lmk a bunch im pretty sure
my first impression of you was also from your tournaments so we're similar in that regard!! and I'm not sure if you did or not!
LOL I'd love to be friends =D and i do rather like lmk (hence my Red Son theming on the tournament blog), my impression of you now is best described as, Autism (affectionate) (also i'm tempted to tag you everytime i see entropic float in a tournament) (and you have excellent taste in gender)
#my impressions and feelings towards you are slightly more complicated than stated but words are aaaaaaaaaaa /neg#a large vocabulary is a curse not a blessing#i know so many words yet i struggle to articulate#also sorry if i come off as weird =[ (it's the autism and several years of hermiting)#i struggle sometimes to understand what people are comfortable with#and make jokes/statements that cross a boundary or line without meaning to
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Blessed Curse
Aemond Targaryen x Strong Reader Tag List
Synopsis: When a marriage between you and Aemond was arranged and forced by your grandsire, conflicting emotions arise, but which one will loom greater? Loathing or Love?
Warnings: Enemies to Lovers Trope, ¿Softer Aemond?, Arranged Marriage, Jealousy, Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Fingering, Oral Sex (F receiving), Targcest, Not Proofread
Word Count: 6,803
A/N: Final tribute (maybe) to Season 1 Aemond, you have fed us with your crumbs for the past two years. Based on a few anonymous requests where they wanted a prequel of 'Loathe to Love.'
Aemond’s frown severed as he looked through the window and watched as you and your kin exited the wheelhouse. He felt his sneer severe as he spotted a look of dissatisfaction adorned your plain face as you had realized the lack of welcome provided for your kin’s return. “Spying, brother?” Aemond jumped in his spot, his sister taking him by surprise as she appeared by his side. “I am not,” he said defensively, and Helaena only hummed, gazing below as the day of your awaited arrival had arrived. “Then why have you been waiting by this window since the morning?” Helaena asked, and Aemond clenched his jaw and stayed silent, not giving a response to his sister.
“Come, join us, Mother, and I shall greet them,” Helaena invited, and Aemond shook his head, scoffing at his sister’s invitation. “I’d rather not subject myself to their… treasonous presence,” He said, and Helaena sighed, walking away in silence.
Jacaerys raised his gaze and caught the sight of a silver prince looking down upon them. He warily traveled his oak gaze to you, who stood by the side of your stepfather. “Should we not tell her already? How long must we keep her in the dark about our true purpose here?” Your brother whispered to your mother. “Your grandsire shall be the one to tell her. The king must be the one to impart to her his wishes and orders,” Your mother sighed, guilt heavy in her heart as the whole of your family had kept the true reason for your return to Kingslanding from you.
“Helaena!” You called out in excitement as you entered the walls of the keep, your aunt, along with her mother, welcoming you. Helaena smiled widely at you as you took her into an embrace; though you had a distaste for the capitol, Helaena was the only one you were actually excited to see once more. “How are you?” You asked, paying no mind to the tense conversation between your parents and the queen. “Well. I am glad of your return,” She smiled, and you only smiled as well as you could not lie and agree with her statement. “I’ve been told you now have three children,” You tried to converse, and Helaena nodded. “I do; little Maelor arrived just two moons ago,” She confirmed, “Would you like to meet them?” Helaena asked, and you eagerly nodded, slipping away from your kin who were to venture to your grandsire’s chambers.
Aemond stalked the halls and watched behind the pillar as you walked with his sister, arms linked. He rolled his eye as you strutted through the halls as if your mere presence were not damnable. “Are you spying, brother?” Aegon appeared by his side, Aemond being caught off guard for the second time that hour. “I am not,” Aemond spat and walked off, but Aegon still followed him. “I have to admit, even I did not expect our niece to grow so… enchanting,” Aegon hummed, looking steadily at his brother to see what reaction his words would garner him. Aemond shook his head, not wanting to concede or show agreement with his brother.
“If you’re still having qualms about this marriage, perhaps it could be I to marry her instead.” Aegon hummed, further testing his brother. “The conqueror had two wives, did he not?” Aegon added and noted the way his brother clenched his jaw and fisted his fists. “You are no conqueror,” Aemond gritted and made hastened steps towards the tiltyard to escape his brother. “I do not understand your animosity, brother,” Aegon still followed.
“Were you not so… overly fond of her years before?” He asked and made fast steps to match his brother’s furious gate. “If I had remembered correctly… you had even asked Mother if you could be betrothed to her when you were nine,” Aegon reminded, and Aemond halted in his steps as he was made to recall the instance. “Leave before I succumb to my thoughts and maim you,” Aemond gritted, his hand already clenched around the hilt of his sword. Aegon let out a laugh at his brother’s threat but retreated because there was a murderous intent in Aemond’s eye.
Aemond had a few moments of solace in the tiltyard before you once again began to haunt him. Aemond halted his sparring with Ser Criston as he heard a laugh so melodious he was certain it was brought by delusion. He turned to the side and frowned as he learned that the laugh he had heard came from your lips, the melodiousness he relished upon just moments ago; he now convinced himself it was aggravating. The prince huffed as he saw his older brother standing by your side, Aegon being the reason for your mirth, and Aemond could not help but wonder if his brother’s actions were genuine or just another ploy to aggravate him.
“I see your intended has arrived,” Ser Criston stated as his eyes went towards where the prince’s gaze was placed. “Aye, she has,” Aemond gritted and shook his head, twisting the sword in his hands and urging himself to continue training. “Have you spoken to her?” Ser Criston could not help but ask, curious as to what the marriage order by the king would entail.
The knight held no fondness for any offspring of the spoiled cunt they call heir, but he himself could not be so cruel to show any animosity towards you. You were saved from the insults that he had no trouble throwing at your brothers. Ever since childhood, you were kind and gentle and good-humored. You were the only one who genuinely showed kindness to Aemond even if he was being picked on by his brother and yours. You were the only one who never cowered away from Helaena and her odd demeanor. You were the only child of Rhaenyra that the queen and her sworn protector could tolerate. It also bodes well for you that you were not present during the ambush in Driftmark. Instead, you were sound asleep next to your aunt as her brother’s eye was cruelly taken.
“No,” Aemond answered, his tone held disgust that the knight was a tad confused by, but he made no mention of it. Ser Criston readied his position to return to sparring with the prince, but Aemond was still wholly distracted by your presence. His frown severed as the smile on your lips did not lessen whilst you kept chatting with Aegon. It would seem his brother would make good with his tease of taking you to wife as well, and though Aemond had no wish to marry you, there was a pestering feeling inside him that savored greatly of jealousy, but he did not wish to admit.
The one-eyed prince disregarded his training and walked in your direction. You were in the midst of a laughing fit, but it quickly died as he arrived, the wide smile on your lips lessening. “Niece,” Aemond greeted, the word said through his teeth. “Uncle,” you curtsied quickly, and Aegon smirked as the scene unfolded before him. “Well, isn’t this nice,” he stated, and you turned your gaze to your elder uncle. “A reunion that is well overdue, do you not think so, brother?” He asked and clapped the back Aemond, who stared daggers at him. You licked your lips as you felt tension now surrounding the air. Aemond’s eye shifted back to you, your gaze lowered, your fingers playing with each other, and your bottom lip in between your teeth. He swallowed thickly as he did not expect a sudden surge of an odd sensation to overcome him.
You parted your lips, ready to speak, but a call through the tiltyard caught your attention. “Tala,” Your stepfather called; the three of you turned towards the steps and saw the Rogue prince approaching. “Good day, uncles,” You said quietly and curtsied before them before running towards your father. Daemon eyed curiously his two nephews you were speaking with. Daemon offered his arm for you to take as he escorted you up the steps, and judging by the smile that was still on your lips and there was no horror in your eyes, he deduced that none of them had spoken about the true reason for your return.
Daemon tried earnestly to contest the marriage. To make his brother see reason and not cruelly tie you with his deformed son. He even went as far as returning to Kingslanding the moment he and his wife received the message of his brother’s order. But the king had made up his mind. You were to marry Aemond.
Two days had passed since your return to the Red Keep, and you were still clueless as to why you and your family had returned. “When do you think we’ll leave?” You asked Lucerys as he went along with you in the gardens, your younger brother carrying the flowers you picked and were planning to give your grandsire you were still yet to visit. “I do not know, sister,” Lucerys mindlessly said, his focus transfixed on your uncle, who stood by the side, glaring at him with his lone eye. You, however, were oblivious to the presence of a silver prince.
Aemond clenched his jaw as he watched you leisurely pick at the flowers. He had been observing you through the days of your return, and he could not fathom why you were not bothered by the whole ordeal as to why he saw no aggravation or anger in you as you both were tasked to marry each other. You exuded an entirely different outlook than Aemond when it came to this doomed union which made him wonder at the possibility that perhaps you wanted it. That you were willing to marry him. Aemond found the possibility preposterous, but it was the only answer to your lax, unbothered disposition. The more Aemond thought about the possibility of your agreement to the marriage, the more it left him unnerved. But it would answer his questions as to why you did not show any outward animosity towards him. Completely civil at any of your encounters— even going as far as flashing Aemond a ghost of a smile when you passed him by the hall. Were you truly in want of this marriage? Aemond was torn on how to feel or perceive this.
“Must we not already tell her? We’ve been here for two days already, and she is still completely clueless about the reason for our return,” Jacaerys asked his mother, who sighed deeply. “Aye, I would take she would not appreciate this secrecy— especially the severity of the situation,” Daemon added, studying his wife who stepped towards a window that overlooked the gardens where you spent the afternoon in.
“The king must be the one to tell her. He… he must be the one to tell her his wishes.” Rhaenyra said once more, unable to be the bearer of bad news. She could already foresee the anger, hurt, and fear in your eyes, and it made her stomach pit and twist painfully. She had made a promise to herself that her daughter would be saved from the political marriages most of them were subjected to— to save her from the heartache and the displeasure of having a husband bound to you not by love but by political gain. But even she could not protect you from such cruel fates. Having no choice but to watch as you would retell the plights of women before you.
“The king has been incoherent for days. The wedding ceremonies they prepared are set in a fortnight— we must tell her Rhaenyra. She must know of the matter now so she could prepare herself,” Daemon spoke, “Prepare herself to escape,” Jacaerys muttered under his breath, already imagining your reaction that would surely be filled with shock and betrayal.
Rhaenyra sighed heavily and shook her head, her hand unconsciously going to her forehead to soothe the throbbing pain as she thought about the matter. “If my father still has not regained his thoughts by the morrow, then we shall tell her at tomorrow evening’s supper,” Rhaenyra decided, putting a buffer on the matter, praying to the gods that her father shall regain consciousness and be the one to tell you of his orders.
You returned inside the castle walls as the afternoon sun was proving to be too scorching for you. Your younger brother went to the tiltyard, and you were left alone as you wandered around the castle you once called home. You were admiring a portrait hung on the wall, your eyes completely fixed on the bold colors and the detailed strokes of the work that your surroundings started to fade, and you did not realize someone had joined your company. “Quite luminous, is it not, your highness?” You slightly jumped, startled by the voice that made itself known. You turned to your right and saw a son of House Tyrell. “It is my lord,” You agreed with a small smile finding itself on your lips.
Aemond watched the scene steely-eyed behind a pillar as you acquainted yourself with the lord in the empty hallways, unescorted. There was a smile playing on your lips as you two conversed. He watched as the lord started to inch his body closer to you, daring to brush his hand with yours that held flowers in it. Aemond’s already impaired vision burned as he saw a blush rising to your cheeks. The scandal of it! Here you are, a betrothed woman still acquiring and entertaining the attention of eligible young men.
When Aemond saw the lord take a flower from your hold and dare place it by your ear, Aemond removed himself from his spot of observation and stomped towards the both of you. “Uncle,” You greeted in surprise as Aemond suddenly appeared in the hall. “Good morrow, my prince,” Lord Tyrell greeted, and Aemond could not make the effort to not let his contempt not show. “My Lord,” was all he replied with, feeling your confused gaze by his left as he stood by your side. “The Princess and I were just discussing this portrait. I had remarked on its luminosity and sh—“ Aemond rolled his eye and cut the lord off.
“If you shall excuse us, Lord Tyrell, I must speak with my betrothed. Alone.” He said, voice utterly cold and almost threatening. Your lips agape at his words, your mind unable to comprehend what he had uttered. “What?” You suddenly asked as Lord Tyrell bowed towards you before hastily walking away. Aemond turned to you, expression angered. “Are you truly this careless? Walking the halls alone, engaging with a lord without an escort. Do you not thin—“ You hindered him from completing his scolding. “What are you saying?” You asked in confusion. “Betrothed?” You added, and Aemond’s brows furrowed.
“Do not act simple with me; you know perfectly well of o—“ You cut Aemond off once more. “What are you talking about? Betrothed? What?” You continued to voice out your bewilderment. Aemond stared at you, calculating if the confusion on your face was an act. But as he stared at your eyes, he knew your confused state was genuine. “You do not know, do you?” He asked quietly. “Know what?” Aemond licked his lips and looked around the empty hall. Just hours ago, he believed you were in full knowledge of the upcoming union between the two of you— that you were completely fine with a marriage with him, for he saw no resistance or rebellion. But what is there to resist or rebel about when you are left utterly clueless?
“We are to be married,” Aemond stated, and you gazed up at him as if he had grown three heads. “Us… married?” You asked slowly, and Aemond gave a curt nod, waiting for the dread in your eyes, but he was left shocked as you began to laugh. The hall rang and echoed your laughs, Aemond watching you as you clutched your stomach and continued to laugh at the absurdity of it. He scowled as you gasped for air, your laugh still ringing in his ears and riddling his skin with gooseflesh. “You have an odd sense of humor, Aemond. But I am glad that after all these years, you finally learned how to jest,” you said in amusement, gazing at his lilac eye as you waited for him to break his peculiar act. However, when only seriousness was present in his Valyrian orbs, the smile on your lips faltered.
“Are you serious?” You asked, your tone dripping heavy in disbelief. “It is the order of the king,” he replied, and you shook your head. Aemond clenched his jaw as you still did not believe his words. “Why do you think you’re here? After all these years of informal exile, why do you think your family was summoned? You and I are to be married.” He explained, frowning at how slow you are to comprehend the situation. Now, the dread that Aemond was waiting for was presented greatly on your plain but pretty face. “I… I do not believe you; you are lying.” You say, and Aemond stepped closer. “Why must I lie about this unsavory matter? What I speak of is the truth. If you do not take my word for it, go ahead and ask your parents, and they will tell you the same thing: you and I are to be bound to one another.” Aemond said lowly, his face drawing closer to yours.
You shook your head and stepped back, your gaze still locked with Aemond, who stared at you undeterred, seriousness the only thing on his face. “You will be my wife.” He stated and watched as fear grew heavier in your eyes, and you ran across the hall in search of your parents. As Aemond stared at your departing figure, he began to wonder if it was satisfying to finally see the fear and rage in your eyes that he had been expecting ever since your arrival or if there was another pestering emotion that he wished not to entertain.
“Mother!” You called through the halls, eyes already threatening to spill with tears. When you reached her chambers, she and your father turned to you, worry shining on their faces. “My sweet girl, what is it?” She asked and took hold of your hands. “Tell me it is not true— tell me he lies,” You almost begged. “What?” Your mother asked quietly, not accepting the fact that you now knew of the betrothal. “Please, you’re not marrying me to Aemond, are you? That’s not true, yes? He was just teasing me,” You said desperately, willing your mother to confirm your theory. But as she said no word and only went pale, your knees felt weak, and a pitting of your stomach presented itself greatly.
“It… it is the order of your grandsire,” She said delicately, moving you to sit down as your breath had been rendered short through your cries. Daemon watched by the side, his hold on his sword tight as he could not bear to see you in such a state of distress. “No… please, you cannot make me!” You wailed as your mother tried to hush you, soothing you, running her hands through your hair, and patting your back just as she did when you were a child. “Please… I… let me speak with grandsire— he cannot marry me to him,” You pleaded, and your mother’s saddened eyes gazed at you, her warm touch moving to wipe the tears on your cheeks. “I’m sorry, my sweet… we have begged your grandsire, implored him that this union could not be. But he had made up his mind, and none of us could alter it, not even Alicent.” Your mother whispered.
You sniffled in your seat, your thoughts running with dread and confusion. “Why did you only tell me now? How could you hide this from me?” You asked in betrayal. Daemon sighed and went to where you sat, kneeling before you. “We wanted to tell you, tala. To prepare you, but we foolishly thought that we could still alter the decision of the king. We had not told you, for we did not wish to distress you with a matter that we thought we could change.” He said softly, watching as tears fell from your eyes. You bit your cheeks and shook your head, “When… when must we marry?” You asked in dread. “In a fortnight,” Your mother replied and felt her heart clench as you stifled a sob. “I’m truly sorry, my sweet girl,” She said softly as you cried quietly in her arms.
“It would appear they hid it from her,” Aemond remarked to his mother as he sat in her chambers. “They thought they could still alter the orders of the king,” She remarked as quietly as she observed her son, who stared at the fire. “I still have not asked you about your thoughts on this marriage,” The queen remarked, watching as her son clenched his jaw. “You need not ask; you already know of it,” Aemond answered. The queen breathed in heavily.
“This may not be what you want now… but this was all you had wanted when you were a boy,” Aemond shook his head, a scoff leaving his lips. “Will all of you stop reminding me of it? Aye, I did want her when I was a child, but I am a man grown. I do not wish for a marriage forced upon me— especially when my bride is to be so… plain,” Aemond frowned at himself as he sensed hesitancy as he uttered the words that used to roll off effortlessly. It was the truth; you were plain— your features nonconforming to the house they tried to sell as yours. But you had never been plain the sense of attractiveness, your beauty celebrated throughout the realm, beguiling the lords of Westeros and years before, Aemond as well. Alicent stayed silent, for she could not offer comfort to her son, who was bound to a marriage that was devised for the crown.
When the crown announced your impending matrimony with your one-eyed uncle, mixed reactions were shared. Nevertheless, the kingdom was made to celebrate the event. You tried to hide your frown as your grandfather made you and Aemond parade around the streets of Kingslanding, a picture of unity to be sold to the small folk so they could attest to the new age of dragons.
“Is this truly necessary?” You asked your father as you were sitting in a carriage. Aemond was still to board it, but he and his grandfather were conversing. “It is what your grandfather wished,” You hear your stepfather say, his violet eyes shifting to your betrothed. “But why? Is he even of sound of mind? I thought others were now tasked to do his bidding; why did they let this happen?” You asked in a plea, ready to jump off the carriage as you felt it jostle and your soon-to-be husband sitting next to you. “Best stop your bellyaching. You are not the only one who is shortchanged with this marriage.” You gritted your jaw at his words, turning to your father wide-eyed, trying to discern if he had heard it as well.
Daemon clenched his fist around the hilt of his sword at his nephew, who had the gull to offend you, his precious daughter. “Your brothers and I will follow closely behind. It is only for a few hours, tala,” he gritted, and you unconsciously pouted as your father walked away, leaving you alone in the presence of Aemond.
You traced the patterns of your gown as you rode out of the castle gates. When you reached the streets, you straightened your back and plastered a slight smile to appear as if you were somewhat happy with the devised marriage. Aemond scoffed and rolled his eye as you greeted the small folk, smiling at them and giving them a small wave of your pampered hand. He frowned at how much you loved their attention, giving them a pitiful show. “You might want to lessen the scowl… the purpose of all this is to present a united figure,” You whispered as you passed a crowd.
“I will not be part of this farce,” Aemond spat and glared at a group of men whose hungry gaze were enclosed on you. “You are a prince of this realm. You have no choice but to be the crown’s puppet,” You said, with a tight smile as you waved toward a group of women. You feel Aemond’s glaring stare at the side of your face, but you willed yourself to ignore it. However, when the other small folk started to notice the glare of your betrothed, you turned to Aemond with a smile still on your lips, looking at him with your fictitious love-struck gaze, and you wanted to laugh as your act took him aback.
Aemond stared into your eyes, perplexed at the look you gave him. Soft, adoring, and… he could not name the other element in your enchanting eyes. He had to look away as he felt himself stagger, and his breath was caught in his throat. When the crowd lessened, Aemond returned his gaze to you, the smile on your lips at the look in your eyes gone within a snap. You turned to him angrily, “Play the part for the subjects, Aemond. I do not expect much from this marriage, and I certainly do not expect us to get along behind closed doors, but when in the eyes of the public… best not to dishonor our house with another display of a fraudulent marriage. As all have kept reminding us, this is our duty.” You say quietly, tone bitter and overly severe. Aemond pursed his lips and clenched his fists around the air as the tumultuous crowds started to return once more, and the counterfeit smile on your lips returned.
The day all had dreaded finally came. You stared blankly in the mirror as you were dressed like a doll. You were resisting the urge to run through the halls and escape a life of hate with a man who had only loathing in his heart for you.
You stood before the door of the great hall, your arms linked with your mother as she walked you down the aisle. “I don’t want to,” You suddenly said, cold and clammed hands holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers. You tried to walk away, but your arm was linked with your mother’s, and she prevented you from doing so. “I am so sorry, my sweet, but not even you are above duty… none of us are,” She said solemnly, and you breathed out a previous breath as trumpets sounded out and the doors of the halls started to open. You bit your lip as you planted yourself on the ground, resisting the pull of your mother for you to walk. Your knees felt weak as you took small steps towards your groom, your mother practically dragging you down, her body a step ahead of your reluctant frame.
When you reached the end of the hall, and your hand was placed upon your betrothed, you resisted looking Aemond in the eye. Aemond stared you down, the image of you wholly too much and all-consuming. This was all he had wanted. This was the dream he dreamt every night in childhood. You, in a white gown and a veil covering your comely face, and him standing before you as your groom.
He could not explain how— how he had kept up his act for this long. To fake his animosity and loathing just in hopes that one day it would turn true because hoping and waiting for you was only a dream he had. Pretending to hold distaste for you because it was easier than letting himself hope that one day you will be his. But now, all those years of yearning have finally come to an end because before the sun could set, you will forever be bound to him.
“With this kiss, I pledge my love,” Aemond recited and hesitantly looked toward you. Your hands were cold upon his, and Aemond took a deep breath before leaning in to seal your marriage with a kiss, your first kiss. The deafening roars and cheers of your guests were unheard as Aemond could only focus on the way it felt to kiss your lips. His mind only concentrates on the small taste he had of you— his entire being immediately starved for so much more than the quick and chaste entanglement of your lips.
You and Aemond were silent for the whole feast, a small smile plastered on your lips as to appear agreeable to the hundreds of eyes upon the both of you. You were too entranced to appear joyous that you were oblivious to the strong, calloused hand that had never left yours. Long, slender fingers drawing circles upon your flesh as if to soothe you.
You turned to Aemond, his eye on the sea of dancers on the floor. In disbelief that he was still holding your hand. You were in shock that he was willing to keep up the pretense so immensely— a pretense of unity that none seemed to notice, for your hands were tucked under the table.
When Aemond felt your stare, he turned to you, and you searched for the familiar cruelty and hatred in his eye; you found none. “Do you wish to dance?” He asked, and your lips parted in shock, taking a moment to comprehend his words. You could only nod, your husband leading you to stand. You were silent as he placed his hand on your waist and pulled you closer to his body. The other dancers disappeared to make room for you and your groom, a slow, mellow melody enveloping the great hall as the eyes of your guests were turned to you and Aemond.
You stared blankly at his chest, eyeing the metal buttons of his vest, and tried to ignore the erratic beating of your heart. Aemond took in a deep breath, your scent intoxicating his senses more than the wine he had indulged himself for the night in preparation for the later activities. When it was the end of your third dance, you finally spoke, “I’m quite tired,” You said lowly, and Aemond gave a curt nod, taking your hand into his once more and guiding you to your seats.
Five more songs passed with you and Aemond in complete silence when your sisters appeared by your side. “Sister… we’re to help you to prepare for the… night,” Rhaena said lowly and cautiously. You feel your stomach drop and your nod. You stole your hand from Aemond and excused yourself before disappearing with your sisters, Aemond’s eye following your frame until you fully disappeared away from his view.
Aemond gritted his jaw as he felt his brother clap his shoulder, “Are you ready for the bedding ceremony, brother? I hope you still remember what I have taught.” Aegon teased and took your vacated seat. Aemond stayed silent and downed another chalice of wine, ignoring his brother. “But it is fine if you are not ready… perhaps I could substitute in y—“ Aemond turned to his brother with a severe glare. “One more word concerning my wife, and I will cut your tongue,” Aemond gritted, and Aegon’s amusement only grew. “There he is— there is the boy who wanted no one else but our niece.” Aegon grinned.
“You are a great actor— you almost had me fooled, but no amount of hate you display could make me forget about the little boy who would follow around our strong niece like a lost pup,” Aegon’s grin grew wider, and he quickly stood to walk away before his brother turned violent.
Aemond downed another cup before he had no choice but to join you in your chambers. He stood by the door and took deep breaths; the shy little boy in him returned, and he had no idea how to cope. Aemond bit his lip and mustered all his courage to step inside your marital chambers. He knew neither of you could perform what was expected that night— as much as he wanted to perform his duty, he knew in himself he could not.
Aemond walked in quietly, his eye on the floor as he entered. Aemond heard shuffling, and he lifted his eye. Lilac orbs placed on a screen divider lit by the flickering light of a candle, your silhouette traced upon the thin paper of the divider as you fixed your shift. Aemond felt his knees weaken, taking a seat on a chair, his eye still fixed on your shadow. By just the outline of you, of your peaked apples straining through your shift and your graceful body turning behind the divider, he already felt pleasure wash through the whole of his body. His cock painfully straining in his trousers, he would think by the amount of wine he had downed, he would be left slack that night.
You took in deep, calming breaths as you stepped out of the divider and decided to wait for your husband, but to your surprise, he was already seated in your chambers. You looked at him wide-eyed, having the urge to cover your body, but you reminded yourself that this intimacy was part of your marriage— at least tonight.
Your gazes did not meet as you stood by a distance from where Aemond sat. The crackling fire between the two of you is the only sound surrounding the room. You gulped before you stepped close to your husband, footsteps overly heavy with every step taken in his direction. “Kneel,” You hear aemond grit, and you frown at his words, ready to fight his order, but you remind yourself that just for tonight, you will do your duties as a wife.
Aemond was left breathlessly as he watched you slowly sink to your knees. He bit his tongue harshly as his eye went to your plush thighs pressed together, having the urge to squeeze them and feel if your skin was as soft as his mind imagined.
You waited, wrapped in anticipation of what was to happen next. You shuddered as you felt his cold hand come to cup your face, his thumb grazing your cheek. Your eyes fluttered to a close at the surprisingly gentle touch, your body moving closer to him without any way of controlling it. As your eyes were still fluttered close, you felt the familiarizing way of his lips upon yours. You felt yourself already quivering and you placed your hand on Aemond’s leg to steady yourself. Aemond leaned forward to feel more of your lips, his cold touch placing itself on your shoulder, feeling the bare skin as the sleeve of your shift had dropped off.
You moved to part from him, out of breath with the kiss you shared. The taste of him and wine imprinted on your tongue. Rose your gaze to meet his eye, and you saw that the lilac orb had turned dark. Without another word, Aemond smashed your lips once more. Kissing you more fervently and pulling you to stand. You whimpered as you felt him bite your lip and pull down further the thin cover you wore. You were in a daze as his lips kissed your sand, and his hands roamed your body, harshly gripping your behind as he led you to the bed.
It was his turn to part your lips. You lay bare on the silk sheets of the feathered bed, his standing before you still fully clothed, and you feel a rush of embarrassment course through you, showing its evidence on your cheeks. Aemond hastily undid the buttons of his vest, eye still locked with yours; he did not miss the embarrassment and perhaps even scandal in your eyes, the tell-tale sign of your purity, and he could not help but succumb to more pleasure by the thought.
You shifted your gaze as Aemond stood bare before you, the image of him quickly engraving itself in your mind. You bit your lip as you waited for him to shift his weight atop yours, but you were left perplexed when, from the side of your eye, you saw him sink to his knees. You propped yourself on your elbows as he pried your legs open, a deep frown on your face as you tried to comprehend what he was doing. When you noticed his head straying closer to your cunny, your eyes widened in further scandal.
“What— Aemond, no!” You say breathlessly and try to close your legs shut, but his hold on your thighs is too strong. “You told me we must perform our duty, wife… let me perform them,” You could only fall back on the plush mattress as you felt the foreign feeling of lips upon your cunt. Aemond sucking upon the pearl of your cunt as his tongue would dart out and tease the bud. You breathed heavily and bit your lip to prevent any sound from being heard, which only made Aemond double his efforts, wanting to hear you be wrapped in utter pleasure.
Aemond groaned at the taste of you, palming his length as it already wept, crying to be inside you, but he knew he must prepare you first. That he must savor you like this, for he did not know if after this— after this initial duty, when would be the next time he’ll have the opportunity to have your cunt against his face.
Aemond finally pried a moan from you, smirking as he moved his finger to tease your folds, a louder moan coming from your lips as he teased your entrance. “A—Aemond,” You called as he inserted the digit, your body rigid and back arching the sensation. “Such a tight cunt… you kept yourself pure for me,” Aemond hummed and groaned as he felt your legs wrap themselves around his neck, pushing his face further to your cunt. He chuckled, and the vibrations from it made further wetness escape your cunt, your hips, your hips gaining itself upon his face; his finger found a companion, and the digits curled inside you. Brushing against the rough spot that spurred you quickly into your climax. Aemond groaned as he heard your muffled voice moaning his name.
You stared at the canopy bed as Aemond rose to his feet and finally placed his weight upon you, his lips finding yours again. You taste yourself on his tongue, and you cannot help but moan, Amend smirking as you find pleasure in tasting yourself; you were quite sweet.
Aemond finally gave in to his wants and aligned himself against your entrance, brushing away your tears that were quick to escape your eyes as he pushed further into your cunt. He was cautious with his movements, not wanting to cause you any unnecessary discomfort. He was patient, waiting for the pained furrowed in your brows to turn to a furrow of pleasure; when it did, his thrust was still cautious. It was some pleasurable torture; he needed more, but he could not be so cruel to present you with such pain.
“Faster,” You breathed out as you felt his thrusts were too slow to bring you to the climax you now sought. Aemond was uncertain if he heard you correctly, so he played it safe and kept his initial pace. “Aemond… please, I— I need it faster,” You urged, letting go of any pride in you as your body needed him. Aemond blinked for a moment, comprehending your quest before wholeheartedly obliging.
Your moans spewed loudly as his thrusts were deep and fast, his finger drawing circles upon your cunt and supper you further into your release. “Oh gods… Oh gods, Aemond!” You cried and clawed his back as you came undone. Aemond groaned into the shell of your ear as his own release was quick to follow, his lips finding yours as his seed rooted itself deeply in your cunt. The thought of heirs already festering in his mind.
That night, Aemond held you in his arms as you slept. His mind was made; he would do anything for your marriage to prevail, for the past to be shed and be forgotten. For you to be happy and contented in his arms, for he already was. As long as he had you, the only girl he had and will ever want and love, he was perfectly content with this blessing of a marriage they had disguised as a curse.
Part Two: Loathe to Love
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ᴊᴜᴊᴜᴛꜱᴜ ᴋᴀɪꜱᴇɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ
ʟᴀᴍʙᴇɴᴛ
⛧ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Sukuna x (Fem)Reader
⛧ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: true form!sukuna, pregnant!reader, heian era customs, pregnancy, mentions of cannibalism, sukuna being an asshole (what do you expect)
⛧ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3767
⛧ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Carrying the King's of Curses child, you knew wouldn't be easy, but you were more than happy to have a baby of your own. Even if said baby was growing rapidly while being the source of your bad back and changing appetite.
⛧ᴀ/ɴ: sukuna fluff is hard to come by in my opinion and so sorry if he's ooc but i wanted him like this. also, this is for lemon and ava, two of my favorite sukuna babes 🤍
⛧twitter - ao3
Wrist flicking out, you fanned yourself, eyes heavy with the sleep you had been fighting as you pursed your lips and eyed the blooming trees of the garden. Spring was rounding itself off, the scorching weather approaching you knew in weeks as you could only prepare yourself to be practically bedridden due to your ‘condition’. You’d only arrived a year and a half prior, and you quickly realized you had not seen much of the palace still after taking a husband, be it due to the duties of a noble person who were bound to spend most their days inside and entertaining themselves another way.
You held back a snort, fanning yourself harder as you stopped and eyed a nearby bush full of bright fruit and as red as your husband’s eyes.
…Husband.
In your youth, you supposed the daydreams of living in nobility were only achievable through luck. Or perhaps told through a fortune told from the Omikuji you required as a teen, taking the fortunes of ‘blessing’ and ‘marriage’ with a grain of salt until you had grown into an adult and ran off to be elsewhere from the clutches on an arranged marriage. Into serving nobility, to becoming nobility wasn’t necessarily on your list, your marriage by all means was an unlawful one. Forged from blood and flesh when you remembered instead of sipping sake in front of the Gods, your husband-to-be curled his fingers around your wrist and bit into your palm to instead partake in you.
You had been enamored by him since you first met him, eyes memorizing every inch of his unusual face before taking his thumb into your mouth when he smeared his own blood across your lips. It had sealed your fate that moment, your love and lust for him bursting forth like a raging inferno then and during the commutation of your marriage. Something that had finally taken into effect and was weighing down on you heavily.
One you supposed was the reason for the wariness when it came to serving you.
Cutting your eyes to the side and slightly behind you, you held the sigh in, your attendant keeping her eyes on the ground (perhaps watching your feet when you walked) as to shield her pensive expression from you, however you were not the unobservant type and focused on the knot between her eyebrows. Mai, your first and most loyal attendant, was never one to shy away from pestering over you, speaking her mind and filling in for advice whenever you needed it, so to see her quiet and on edge grated your nerves more than you liked to admit. She had been your first friend when you arrived, and you absolutely despised when she reverted back into the meek and submissive attendant she played whenever your husband was around, and it was enough to make you frown and worry if you had done something wrong.
You sighed loudly, snapping your fan shut and turning to the woman slowly, “You look like you have something you want to say.”
Mai’s eyelashes fluttered against her cheeks, long and curled as her doe-like eyes rose to meet yours. She seemed to mull over your statement, before bowing her head in submission and speaking quietly, “Permission to speak?”
A smile graced your lips, softening your expression and nodding to her in return, “You always have permission with me, Mai.”
And just like that, Mai’s entire attitude flipped at your nonchalance. Straightening herself up, she dropped the service act and eyed you with suspicion and wary, mixed in with tired disappointment at having to cater to your more… reckless wants. “It’s just that Lord Sukuna has told us to monitor you and keep you in the palace when he’s away. And you’ve disobeyed that… again.”
Ah, there it was. With a scowl threatening to mar your face, you turned your back to her and began to pick through the strawberries in the bush you had been eyeing before, “I’m in the gardens. That’s still the palace… Is it not?”
“Yes, but –”
“This one looks ripe…” you cut her off, not necessarily wanting to hear her prattle on about how your husband made it horrifyingly clearly that you were to say inside at all times when he wasn’t at the palace. You’d heard it all before so many times it had been practically engraved into your skull with ink, and you were fed up with sitting on your knees inside away from the outside world and learning calligraphy constantly. Lips downturned you plopped a good-looking strawberry into your mouth, humming at the juice and tangy sweetness that exploded upon your taste buds, before your stomach gave an abrupt twist and a foot kicked out against your ribs. You winced and rubbed at your belly while the fruit suddenly tasted foul, and you swallowed with a grimace, “I hate how hungry I get nowadays, especially when I seem to crave more than just human food.”
Mai had been watching you like a hawk, leaning forward to intercept you whenever you reached for another fruit, “Oh, let me get it for you –”
“Please, Mai, I can pick my own strawberries. You worry too much.” Batting her hand away, you plucked it, hiding it in your sleeve and turning to her with an exhausted smile as she took your fan from you.
“Yes, My Lady. But please consider my words, we can keep you entertained in the palace.” You watched the lines on her face carefully, creased at her eyes and wrinkles forming at her forehead, and you could only wonder if your pregnancy had been the cause of her newly formed stress (partly, you knew you could’ve blamed it on your husband, his aggressive and aloof behavior all in one keeping most of the servants on the tips of their toes, but you quickly squashed it whenever you remembered she tended to you entirely).
Of course, you knew she was only doing her job, however her job was also giving you a severe case of claustrophobia being cooped up inside all the time. It wasn’t like you were planning to ever leave the palace’s premises either, just small strolls in the garden or spending time by the pond to cool off. Honestly, you had reason to believe she and your husband were just worrywarts (yet for the latter, you would keep that strictly to yourself).
You nodded your head in the direction you wanted to go, signaling Mai to walk beside you as you sighed and lowered your voice, “The midwife told me exercise will help…” you caressed your palm over your protruding stomach, “The baby is already huge and only seems to keep growing. A little sun helps me too, Mai… I can’t stay cooped up forever.”
Mai took a few moments to respond, her shoulders relaxing and her voice regaining familiarity, “I’m only worried since the last time you fainted out here.”
Lips thinning outwards, you remembered it all too well. Not necessarily fainting, though you blamed it on the many layers you wore around the palace and how warm it was getting outside, but you remembered the aftermath and how your husband had all but slaughtered a few lowly servants in retaliation as to letting you out (and because of his temper). You had thought the gore would’ve had you running, but you’d grown so used to him murdering someone whenever they slightly pissed him off you could only sigh at the thoughts. Of course, you knew Mai’s worry also came out of fear, however you weren’t about to let him do anything to her. “I know, but I feel fine… Just swollen feet and my back aching every time I move.”
And the baby kicking at your body whenever something displeased him.
Mai sighed your name exasperatingly, dropping the formalities, “Please, given your condition I think it’s best if you return to the palace.”
Irritation began to seep in your muscles, your baby moving in response to your emotions as your feet marched faster to walk. If you wanted to walk around the garden, you were allowed to, you would deal with your husband later if he found out. “What my husband doesn’t know won’t hurt him… Just another stroll and we can go back in, I’m getting tired anyways.”
“My Lady – oh!”
Mai abruptly skidded to a halt, body bending quickly into a low enough bow for the towering sight of your husband appearing before you both. You spared her a quick glance, flickering back to your husband, Lord Sukuna, when you realized he wasn’t the least bit concerned over her. He kept all four eyes on you, a challenging glare in them and you nearly wanted to laugh at the sight of two of his arms crossed and the other two planted on his hips. He looked every part of a disappointed husband – a father in the making, and you could already feel the talking your ear was going to get. Ah well, you could always feign falling asleep on him, that seemed to always make him softer.
Bending slightly into your own bow, he spoke, addressing Mai with a singular command, “Leave,” and you only returned back to your own height whenever you peeked that she was gone. You held back the groan at the pull your spine gave, wincing slightly at the shine of the sun before his large form eclipsed it as he finally moved close to you with no one in sight. The familiarity of his warmth and scent eased some of your irritability, wondering why he was back to early and ecstatic that he came to look for you once he couldn’t find you.
You smiled up at him, rolling the strawberry around your fingers before gesturing with your head to the path you had been walking, “Walk with me?”
Sukuna was ever-so unwavering in his staring, watching you practically dawdle in your place with the world’s most unamused expression, “Weren’t you told to stay inside?”
You repressed a shudder at his rough voice as your skin prickled, another sigh leaving while your shoulders slumped; caught. “I might remember you telling me that.” He seemed to not be in the mood for your sweettalking.
A loud exhale made your smile turn sheepish. “You piss me off.”
You knew that was coming, pulling out your hand from the sleeve to produce the strawberry from before, letting his eyes follow the way you rolled it into your palm, “But you’re here now… Nothing could really happen now since I have you.”
Sukuna’s eyebrow furrowed, eyes narrowing inward before he scowled at you enough to let his upper lip slightly curve over his teeth, “Changing the subject won’t help you. Are you gonna walk back, or do I have to carry your ass and –"
In a bold move you silenced him, pressing the strawberry to his lips with two fingers and slightly pushing it forward in hopes he would eat it. His eyes couldn’t narrow or glare any further, shooting from you to the fruit, and holding them there for a few moments and you wanted to giggle because it nearly looked like he pouting. Your husband never really ate human food, perhaps to humor you before he would spit it out and complain about the horrid taste it gave him, however there were a few times his interest would peak and want a bite of whatever you had in your hand – especially when said food seemed to satisfy you so much. You supposed it was his curiosity to understand you better, having a human in such close quarters and as a wife was perhaps as jarring as it was to have him as your husband.
Toying with him, you said, “It gave me bad taste earlier… Want to try it?”
Sukuna’s lips twitched behind the fruit, a clear sign he’d indulge you that time and when you went to move your hand away from him, one of his hand snatched your wrist with a small squeeze. An unspoken word for you to leave your fingers on the fruit and indulge him. And you did so with coquettish blink, pressing the strawberry harder against his lips until they gave way and his teeth were biting into it with the juice from inside sliding down your fingers as he slowly and sensually ate the strawberry from your fingertips. It didn’t help that he kept his eyes on your own the whole time, your cheeks burning as you never were able to get used to your husband’s forward assertion on sensuality.
Your breath caught and eyes widened when his tongue slid over the length of your fingers before slipping in his mouth and sucking on them until they were free of any residue stickiness. You couldn’t help the rapid beat of your heart, lips parting as his thumb tapped in rhythm to your pulse point before he let go of your fingers with a loud ‘plop!’ and a satisfied hum rumbling out of him as you could only gaze dumbfounded at the saliva coating your fingers. After a few moments you cleared your throat and swallowed, eyeing him warily as you knew his stomach probably wouldn’t last long and he’d be hacking it up with loud complaining.
And on cue, you watched fascinated as the mouth on his stomach frowned.
Oh, here it comes. It never lasted long in his system.
You sighed as he spat it out, licking his lips and scowling at the ground, “You’re right, tastes like shit.”
“Would you like me to say something to the servants?” you asked, mentally cheering with a soft smile on your face when he fell into step with you to walk along the gardens. It was never hard to get what you wanted out of him.
“It’s not poor gardening skills, it’s you.” You opened your mouth, ready to backtalk at the insult, yet he silenced you with a hand raised before one of his fingers traced along your cheek, “Weren’t you waddling in and practically whining for some of my food?”
How could you forget, a week ago you’d been lured out of your bed chamber by the most mouthwatering smell and your baby kicking incessantly once your stomach growled. You had stumbled upon Sukuna and Uruame, the latter making Sukuna’s dinner and the dinner something you never were to partake in since his appetite did not quell your hunger. However, when you found yourself salivating with your stomach rumbling and your baby kicking, it was a jarring experience to come to realize you were indulging in cannibalism and liked it. Liked it so much your child never rolled in a fit that night and Sukuna had been extra attentive to you afterwards with his praising.
An answer was on your tongue, though you chose to neglect saying anything when your taste buds twitched at the thought of that dinner and instead enjoyed your walk in peace. Your husband only snorted, a slight laugh leaving him at your pout before he returned his limbs to himself and rolled his gaze forwards on the path you’d been on. Times with him were normally relaxing as he was actually rather lazy when he had nothing to do, his affections ranging from just enjoying your presence in silence to twirling your hair around his finger whenever you were close enough. You never minded, glad to spend time with him though it was equally as nice whenever he seemed get even clingier once finding out you were pregnant.
Even his soft, lingering touches moments ago set your heart ablaze, and you wondered if he felt the same whenever you ran your fingers through his hair whenever he felt like resting his head in your lap.
Minutes into your relaxing walk you felt it, an agonizing cramp pulsing in your back and the soles of your feet screaming in protest at being mobile for too long. Of course, you get some time to do something with him and your body halts that and screams at you to stop. You didn’t want to say anything, not wanting to bother him nor ruin the peaceful moment you were so grateful to have. Although the pain in your body had other plans, cramping upwards and throbbing whenever you tried to take another step so much you immediately had to double over with one hand resting on your stomach.
You stopped, the other hand moving to hold your aching back, and you were vaguely surprised he stopped at the same time. A wince and awkward bouts of silence later, you groaned and straightened back up, “I’m sorry, I think it gets worse every day.”
Sukuna remained silent and still, before a rumbling from his chest prickled the hair on the nape of your neck. “Hm, almost like you should’ve listened to me.” He was back in that disappointed husband stance, and you knew if you were to look into his face you’d see the smug grin at your misfortune. Gritting your teeth you didn’t give him the satisfaction, watching glumly as he sighed rather loudly and moved away from your side to continue walking in the direction of this palace.
You reaped what you sowed you supposed, having to walk back alone after being told not to be out of the palace when he wasn’t there. And your body complaints for moving about too much agreed, a quiet moan of frustration leaving you as you closed your eyes and counted to ten to calm your nerves, reopening them when the pain muted itself into a dull ache for the time. However, you completely clammed up at the sight of your husband bent down in front of you, the black of his haori draped over his shoulders shielding your view of his sculpted back and his face turned forward giving you no indication of what he was doing.
Yet, he did seem like he said something, though you were too befuddled to even understand what he had said.
“What –”
“Are you deaf?” he interrupted, turning his head slightly and motioning with his head from you to climb onto him, “I said get on, before I change my mind.”
He wanted you… to ride… on his back? Never once did he ever engage in something like that with you (besides carrying you in his arms, but that had been the night of your wedding and he’d practically tossed you on your beds afterwards), though you weren’t about to pass by the chance for him to carry you. Though you weren’t too sure how to climb on his back and hold on so heavily pregnant, Sukuna didn’t have four arms for nothing you supposed.
Not wanting him to change his mind and keep him waiting, you clambered onto him to best you could dressed in several layers with your legs kicking free to slip underneath the lower set of his arms. You held back a squeal when your baby kicked at all the movements, arms flying forward to nearly constrict Sukuna’s airway off as he in return grunted and stood to his full height while beginning to move forward in a slow pace. You were grateful he was taking it slow, still trying to get comfortable and trying not to think about how bad it would hurt to fall off his back from his enormous height…
“Stop fucking squirming…” he grunted again, readjusting you with his arms as your body reclined higher up on his back and he continued walking, “Acting like I’ve never touched you before.”
“It’s not that. He – “ you cut yourself off, you hadn’t necessarily told him that you believed your baby was a boy, and you didn’t want to hear any of his teasing, “the baby kicks and squirms whenever I move too much.” Or whenever he hears your voice, you groused, further proving your point when he kicked at you again whenever Sukuna spoke once more. You wondered if he could feel the kick on his back.
“Damn.” A pause of silence and Sukuna was jostling you on his back, “How much does that prick weigh? Or is that all you?”
Your hand itched to slap the back of his neck, though you held yourself together and only offered him a scoff while making yourself comfortable, “He takes after his father.”
“And he wiggles like a worm, just like his mother.”
You had half a mind to say something about him referring to your child as a boy, your cheeks hot when you rested your chin atop his shoulder and eyes growing lidded with sleep while he inadvertently rocked you with his steps. You bit the inside of your cheek in a girlish thought that your husband was walking slower on purpose, rolling your ankles to stop you from kicking your feet at the idea he wanted to spend more time with you alone. Then again, he was doing all of it for you when he could’ve just left you alone, or not come out to find you at all.
Maybe some days he missed you as much as you missed him.
In a bold declaration, you pushed yourself forward until your nose was skimming Sukuna’s cheek, a chaste kissed you placed there seconds later whenever he didn’t say or do anything to push you away, “Thank you, my Lord.”
Sukuna hummed low in his throat, a deep rumbling that vibrated against your arms and soothed your aching ribs, “Don’t get used to it. I just didn’t want to wait around for your slow ass to waddle back in.” Though he sounded rather harsh, you knew he was just doing roundabout affection in his own way.
Your head lolled against his, the leaves on the trees above swaying you into a warm midday nap the longer you watched them through your eyelashes, “Take me to bed?”
You didn’t necessarily hear his response, though you weren’t dreaming it when his fingers tightened the hold he had on your thighs, the warmth he emitted doing wonders for the pains in your body as he secured you further into his back to ensure you didn’t fall off. You couldn’t help the smile, your cheek smushed into his shoulder as you took one final look at the sunlight path before you both and closed your eyes as exhaustion took its hold over.
With a last conscious thought, you reminded yourself to thank Mai later for allowing you a nice stroll in the garden – especially when you were doing it with your family.
#{🩸} nee fics#jujutsu kaisen#sukuna#ryoumen sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n#jjk sukuna#sukuna jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk smut#sukuna smut
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brother's bsf! mattheo who you've had a crush on for years.
but he's only ever seen you as theo's little sister (or so he says).
it doesn't matter that you and theo are only a year apart. your older brother is extremely protective of you and so are the rest of his friends — especially mattheo.
you grew up around the boys, which was a blessing and a curse in and of itself. on one hand, you grew super close to mattheo, but on the other hand, he's seen you through your awkward braces and pigtails phase.
lately though, brother's bsf! mattheo starts to notice you. really notice you.
suddenly, you didn't seem so little to him anymore.
but over the years, your infatuation with your brother's best friend calmed to attraction instead. you've come to accept that while mattheo would always be your first crush, that's all it would really ever amount to. a harmless little childhood crush.
thanks to theo, you hadn't gotten much of a chance to date when you were younger, but now that you were starting uni with the rest of the boys, you were determined to push those silly little feelings for mattheo away and start putting yourself out there.
granted, you had a lot to learn given your sheltered upbringing.
boys had taken a liking to you. why wouldn't they? you're pretty, you're smart, and you're the perfect combination of sweet and sassy, but you were also extremely naïve.
brother's bsf! mattheo had to protect you.
it was his responsibility.
theo trusted him to keep an eye on you. so he did.
・❥・ brother's bsf! mattheo glares at any boy that dares to look at you.
・❥・ brother's bsf! mattheo revs his motorcycle and comes in hot when he sees anyone talking to you, handing you the pink helmet he keeps on him at all times without a single word.
・❥・ brother's bsf! mattheo gives you rides to your dorm and takes you out for ice cream after a particularly hard exam.
it's clear that mattheo has a soft spot for you. no matter how vehemently he denies it.
until the night that everything changed.
it was a chilly friday evening when you happily skipped out of your dorm building, eager to attend your first frat party.
the cute boy in your history class asked you to come with him and you immediately said yes despite not knowing what to expect. it seemed fun and exciting and a little bit dangerous.
as luck would have it, you ran into none other than mattheo on your way out. his sleek black motorcycle was parked on the curb, smoke wafting from his lips as he took a lazy drag of his cigarette. leaning against his bike, mattheo raised a brow as you strutted onto the sidewalk.
"where do you think you're going, nott?"
"to a party, matty."
"with who?"
"a friend."
mattheo narrows his eyes at you. "I know all your friends and they're busy tonight. so which friend is it?"
you sigh in frustration. "just a friend from class. god, you sound like theo right now."
"you're not going anywhere wearing that."
"what's wrong with my dress?"
you smoothed down the front of your red minidress self-consciously, shying away from mattheo's intense gaze. his chocolate brown eyes scanned your body, the heat of his stare dragging along your skin.
"for starters, that dress barely covers anything and knowing you, you'll be cold within the first few minutes."
"I'll be fine, mattheo. I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself."
mattheo crosses his arms, huffing at your statement. "so you told theo where you're headed off to tonight?"
you shrugged. "what my brother doesn't know won't hurt him."
"yes, but he might hurt anyone stupid enough to ogle you in that dress. as will I. maybe I should tell him what his baby sister is up to. better yet, maybe I should come with you to this party, hm?"
"no please," you pleaded. "I just want one night where I'm not being treated like a little kid. can you give me that, matty? please?"
you flashed your best puppy dog eyes at him, knowing that he couldn't possibly resist when you asked so nicely.
mattheo considers it for a moment before sighing in defeat. "fine, princess. but text me when you get there and call me when you're home. don't even think about turning your location off or else I'll send a brigade after you."
"yes sir."
"good girl."
before brother's bsf! mattheo could think better of it, you kiss his cheek and promise to call him later that night.
brother's bsf! mattheo watches you strut away in your tight little dress with a soft smile on his face, fully knowing that you had him wrapped around your finger.
by the time you arrive at the party, it's in full swing. music is blaring, drinks are flowing, and the frat house is packed to the brim with people.
you send a quick text to mattheo to let him know you've arrived before spotting aiden.
clearly, your date was already a few drinks in. he greets you with a lingering hug before handing you a red cup. "cheers, y/n."
"cheers," you respond, clinking your cup against his and taking a generous swig. the liquor burns your throat and aiden chuckles as you try to hide your wincing.
still, it does the job.
you loosen up after a few sips. aiden introduces you to his friends and you smile politely, trying not to squirm out of his hold as he pulls you in by the waist.
it's fine, he's just keeping you close in such a packed crowd. he doesn't mean any harm by it.
at least that's what you told yourself.
until aiden tries to make a move on you in the middle of the dance floor. you already told him that you didn't want to dance, but he insisted.
you could smell the liquor on his breath as he grabbed your hips, moving them along to the rhythm of the song. you tried to put some distance between you, but aiden didn't seem deterred by it. in fact, his wandering hands slide down to your lower back until they're planted firmly on your ass. you attempted to pry them away, but he slurred "relax" into your ear before giving your ass a squeeze.
that was the tipping point for you.
with all your strength, you shoved aiden off while he cursed after you. the lights were blinding as you made your way through the crowd, fleeing to the bathroom.
you had brother's bsf! mattheo's number dialed before you even closed the door.
surprisingly, he picks up on the first ring.
"hi matty, are you — are you busy right now?"
"I'm with the boys. how'd the party go, princess?"
"um, I'm still here and I just really want to go home."
you hear shuffling on the other end. presumably mattheo finding somewhere more private to speak with you. "I thought your friend was your ride home?"
"well, aiden's drunk and he's been getting a little handsy the whole night so I don't really feel safe going home with him."
"what?" mattheo hisses. "you didn't tell me you were with a guy. I never would've let you go off alone with some random prick."
"please don't be mad, matty. I just wanted to have fun without worring about my brother hovering over my shoulder. don't tell theo, please. I'll — I'll figure it out. I'll find another ride."
"like hell you are! drop your location. the boys and I are coming."
"no, please. I don't want this to be a whole thing. if theo finds out, he'll never let me out of his sight again."
you could feel mattheo grappling with the situation. part of him wanted to tell his best mate, but all he truly cared about was getting to you as quickly as he could. after a few moments, he sighs. "fine, I won't tell your brother, but I'm still coming to get you. stay where you are, princess and don't hang up the phone. I'm on my way, okay?"
"you really don't have to —"
the argument dies in your throat when you hear the sound of mattheo's motorcycle starting up. he wasn't going to let you talk him out of this. mattheo was coming, whether you wanted him to or not.
"too late. be a good girl and stay on the line with me, sweetheart. I'm coming for you."
brother's bsf! mattheo pays no mind to the boys as they joke about him meeting up with a booty call.
the only thing that matters to him is getting to you.
brother's bsf! mattheo weaves through campus, revving and racing his motorcycle as fast as it can possibly go.
it's too noisy to talk while he rides, but he stays on the line anyways, listening through one earphone as you quietly hum to help calm yourself. mattheo smiles to himself. it's one of his favorite quirk of yours. half of the time, you don't even notice you're doing it. but he does. he notices everything about you.
mere minutes have passed since you first called him, but it feels like an eternity to mattheo when he finally pulls up to the decrepit frat house at the edge of campus.
mattheo parks his motorcycle on the curb, glaring at the prying eyes trained on him. it's not every day that the mattheo riddle, resident bad boy pulls up to a party looking like he's absolutely ready to kill someone with his bare hands.
he has half a mind to burst into the bloody house and pummel that stupid prick for daring to touch you, but the sight of you approaching stops him cold.
you look flustered and fearful, lower lip trembling as you spill out into the sidewalk. mattheo instantly sees red. he vows to make that motherfucker pay for this.
"where is he?"
"mattheo —"
"where. the. fuck. is. he?"
"probably somewhere inside drunk off his arse. I don't know and I don't care. can we please just go?"
despite his anger, you don't balk from him. in fact, you've got both hands pressed firmly against his chest to hold him back.
brother's bsf! mattheo grips your hips, your noses pressing together as he carefully inspects you. making sure you were alright is the only thing keeping him from committing violence.
"tell me where he is."
though mattheo's words are tinged with fury, his tone remains soft and sweet. his voice is nothing but a whisper because even at his angriest, mattheo would never raise his voice at you.
“give me a name, sweetheart. just give me his name."
"it's fine, matty. he's not worth the trouble."
“he left you alone, at a party where you don’t know anyone, got too drunk even though he knows he’s your ride home and got handsy with you even though you weren’t into it. give me one good reason why I shouldn’t fuck him up right now?”
“I can handle him later. can we please just go home? I'm tired and I just want to be in bed now.”
the cold air makes you shiver as you mentally curse yourself for picking such a skimpy outfit when hours ago you felt foolishly confident in your dress.
brother's bsf! mattheo softens when he sees you trembling. without a word, he takes off his jacket and drapes it over your shoulders. the scent of amber and cinnamon envelopes you all at once, lulling you into a calmer state.
"okay, princess. let me take you home."
once mattheo secures the baby pink helmet over your head, he tells you to hang on tight before taking off.
you hug his midsection, resting your chin on his shoulder as mattheo drives slow through the sprawling campus. the streets are empty, but he drags out the ride, wanting to spend as much time with you as possible.
at the strike of midnight, the two of you finally reach your dorm.
although you insist that you're fine, brother's bsf! mattheo walks you all the way up to your door.
the fluorescent lights flicker overhead as you shift your weight form one foot to the other, suddenly feeling shy.
"thanks for picking me up, matty."
"of course, y/n. you know I'd do anything if you're the one asking."
you smile, trying your hardest to hide the blush on your cheeks. "I hope I didn't ruin your night."
mattheo shrugs. "not at all. before you called, I was watching berkshire stuff marshmallows down his throat while the boys cheered him on. trust me, you weren't interrupting anything important."
"still. I appreciate you coming to my rescue and not ratting me out to my brother."
mattheo smiles. "it's our little secret, princess."
the double meaning of the words causes tension between you and the pull that you've always felt towards mattheo feels stronger than ever, tugging you closer.
maybe tonight is the night that you finally feel brave enough to fall.
"goodnight, matty."
brother's bsf! mattheo watches as you get on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek like you always do. except this time, you lean in for a proper kiss.
as soon as mattheo's lips touch yours, you feel your entire body erupt like fireworks. it's everything you imagined it to be and more. his lips are soft against yours, supple and inviting. the kiss takes him by surprise, but once he realizes what's happening, he groans into your mouth, the sound of it filled with need.
dazed and confused, you look up as mattheo pulls away, his big brown eyes scanning your face. "we shouldn't do this, princess."
despite his words, mattheo's hand rests itself on your hip, his thumb brushing gentle circles against your exposed skin. you gulp as he stares at you, your lips brushing, your bodies gravitating towards each other no matter how hard you try to fight the pull.
"is it because of my brother?"
"no," mattheo growls. "we shouldn't do this because I don't know if I'll be able to stop once we start."
"I don't want you to stop, mattheo."
as soon as the words leave your lips, mattheo is kissing you again, and this time, he isn't holding back. you cling onto his shirt as he kisses you hard, the force of it hitting you all at once. his fingers dig into your hips as you bend at the waist, desperately kissing back.
his head is reeling and his heart is pounding. mattheo is drowning in your taste, your touch, your smell. you're every drug rolled into one; seductive and sinful. he's addicted and he can't get enough.
brother's bsf! mattheo doesn't want to pull away. he wants to stay here and live in this moment forever, but he knows that if he does, he'll end up taking everything.
foreheads pressed together, mattheo leans in for one last kiss. this one is sweet and gentle, enough to satiate him for the moment.
"sleep tight, princess. I'll see you in the morning."
"see you in the morning, matty."
brother's bsf! mattheo can't help but take one last look at you, a soft smile on his face when he sees your flushed cheeks and kiss bitten lips.
in that moment, he knows he's fucked. you're his best mate's little sister. he shouldn't have kissed you. he shouldn't feel this way for you. he should've stopped before it was too late, but you were both way past that now.
now that he's had you, he won't want anything else. it's you he'll always crave. it's you he'll always long for. and he doesn't give a fuck what it takes to get you.
brother's bsf! mattheo won't stop until you're his and his alone. *✧・゚:*
#mattheo on a motorcycle might actually put me in a coma#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle smut#mattheo riddle x reader#mattheo riddle x you#mattheo riddle fluff#mattheo riddle imagine
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okay here’s me getting all cocky and confident because you answered my ask once (ily for that seriously i think i screamed and fainted and sobbed and climbed up the walls a little) and once again asking you for….. for crumbs………. so my horny self was sitting and thinking…………… nanami sees you reading absolute filth and porn and you end up in biig trouble.. (i.e him doing that exact thing to you 😭) or perhaps you going up to nanami after reading absolute filth and being all needy with him bcs that straight porn made you a liittle…….. yk… 🌚🌚🌚
anyways i literally love you and ur my favorite writer ever and im gonna stop now before i burst
SMUT [smuht] (noun)
In which Nanami Kento catches you reading dirty literature...and punishes you with a performative reading.
Warnings: The anon who keeps targeting me like this needs a warning label...but otherwise: roleplay, erotic literature (*laughs and laughs in Tumblr*) being read to you while you're systematically destroyed, performative Bad!Nanami, Kento fucks you wearing a mask and leather gloves, Pleasure Dom!Kento who gets lost in the sauce, reader way out of her depth, bondage, the usual spicy goodness, couple of cheeky movie references
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The one she knew only as the Man in the Mask swept over to her, delighting in her capture, having evaded him for so long.
"Ahhh..." he sighed, his breath sweeping over the swell of her breasts, and sending shivers down her spine. "Finally...the little mouse who has wreaked havoc on my dreams for too many lonely nights. How does it feel? To be trapped here with me like this?"
Her heart stalled in her chest, and she gasped, his grazing touch to her belly leaving embers in its wake. The Man in the Mask saw her nipples pebble beneath her shirt, and felt something snap inside him as he loomed over her with a whisper; "I know. I feel it too."
With little warning, he lowered his barely covered mouth to her neck, hungry against her, and--
The door opened, and you leapt out of your skin, dropping your phone to the floor. You sat bolt upright in bed, your other hand coming up guiltily from beneath the covers as Kento leaned into the bedroom to greet you. You interrupted him.
"You're home early," you said, offering an unconvincing smile. Kento looked at you, flatly. He let the statement hang for a moment. His shrewd eyes flicked, taking in the glossy subtleties he saw from you only in foreplay.
"...well I thought you'd be pleased, but I'll just go back then shall I--"
You hesitated, words caught in your throat. Your eyes flickered to your phone. So did Kento's. His eyes narrowed.
"...what are you read--"
"Nothing! It's nothing." You lied, unconvincing. You both hesitated for a moment more, before Kento darted. You cursed at him for being faster than you, and Kento's fingers closed around your phone, sitting beside you on the bed in one swift movement. You smothered a pillow over your face, screaming silently, wanting the duvet to grow great maws and swallow you whole.
Kento read silently for a moment, scrolling, before reading aloud; "...she didn't want to fight anymore, as his fingers slid between her puffy lips...goodness me...his cock strained against the fabric of his clothes, begging for attention...I bet it did..."
You had begun to crawl away down the bed, just a maggot, unworthy of the sun and all its glories.
You felt a hand clasp around your ankle, and you squeaked as Kento dragged you back up the bed, without even taking his eyes off your phone.
"I don't think so, where are you going--"
"--oh god Kento just give me something for the cringe and let me die--"
"--no no no I'm blessed to be a part of my wife's interests--"
"--I am less than human, we need a divorce, I can't look you in the eye ever again--"
Kento scoffed, dark and derisive. "As if I'd let you divorce me. As if you'd even want to...now, where did I put that..."
Kento stood, still holding your phone as he rummaged in his dresser. You laid flat to the bed, trying to wiggle away again, still embarrassingly wet, your mortification laced with undeniable arousal.
"Stay exactly where you are, or I'll damn well make you."
You stopped. You looked up at Kento, unusually meek, as he approached you. He stood by the bed, looming and powerful, a god made flesh. He unbuttoned his shirt to the navel, not bothering to remove his harness. He undid his belt with a clink-clink. He let his tie hang loose...and pulled a black balaclava down to beneath his collar. He finished off with a pair of soft, black leather gloves.
Something imploded inside you; a dial-up noise in your mind. Kento prowled over to you, looming over you and chasing you up the bed, caging you beneath him, and reading through the smut on your phone screen.
"Be honest," Kento read aloud, his honey-brown eyes swirling with something altogether darker and more dangerous, "if you'd wanted to escape me...you could have."
You panted, breathless, your pupils blown into inky black as you lay splayed beneath Kento. You couldn't help but be captivated, lost in his insidious pull. You felt your heartbeat between your legs.
"Did you stay because you dream of me, too?" Kento intoned. You bit the poisoned apple, trembling as you nodded up at him. "Did you stay...because you wondered if hatred was as erotic a passion as love?"
"--Kento, I-- let me go, I--"
"That's the spirit." Laughed Kento, his voice booming through you, the vibrations crackling across every nerve, and you whimpered. Kento grasped your hands together with his own, gloved and powerful, pinning them above your head with the whole weight of his body. He pulled his tie loose with the hand holding your phone.
"I can't let you leave...not now. Fuck...you have no idea what you do to me, do you?" Kento growled. Being the villain seemed so effortless to him. Your safe word had never been further from your mind, your attempts to leave so paltry and insincere. The way Kento looked down at you, waiting to see if you would make him stop, sent shivers down your spine. Kento released his tie, eyes skimming across your phone for confirmation.
"I'd apologise, for trapping you here like this..." Kento intoned, tying your bound wrists to the head of the bed as you squirmed, crying out in anguish, "...but I'll show you...how you've craved my touch, just as I have craved yours." You strained against the bonds, in just the silky chemise you wore for bed, and it didn't take much for your breasts to fall free of the fine little straps.
In truth, Kento had never been harder in his life. Seeing you battle against primal desire beneath him, feeling your half-hearted embarrassed squirms brushing your bare mound against his aching, thick cock...and your nipples, hard as diamonds and covered by a thin veneer of lace. His breaths were heavy, chest heaving as he continued his performative reading.
"Just one taste, and we can return to how it was before." Kento groaned, his mouth suckling at your neck, licking, tasting, biting. You cringed against the assault on your senses, afraid to lose yourself to such diabolical pleasure. Kento pinned your bucking hips down with his own, the tip of his cock trapped beneath his waistband against his belly. "Just once...and we can rest easy at night, knowing how it feels for me to spend myself inside you."
You keened, mewling as Kento rested the phone on the pillow beside your head, and took your nipple into his mouth, ragging it around beneath his tongue with a fractured growl. Your head spun with the weight of him, totally captured, so wildly out of control. The suckling pleasure he gave to your nipples, connected in a fine thread to your clit, making it pulse with vicarious bliss.
"I can't...can't take it anymore...Ken--" You moaned, squeaking as his teeth closed in barely hinged warning around your breast.
"Unless it's to tell me to fuck you, I won't have you mewl like a kitten at me any longer." Kento rumbled against your breast, wet with his spit and the marks he left behind as he took what he was owed. "I hope you can take it. I'm...no small man. If you are ruined, after, I know you will bear the scars with grace, just as you have bore your hatred of me."
You were already so steeped in the hot rush of being pleasured, you did not notice how Kento's eyes glowered, lathering down your body and darting occasionally back to your phone. He continued his pilgrimage down your body. Kento growled in frustration at the chemise blocking him, and he rucked it up, spitting curses as you squeaked, wriggling against him.
"At least fight like you mean it." Kento laughed, and you blushed, eyes squeezed shut, mortified by how obviously faked your resistance was. Kento kissed his way down your belly, settling at your mound. He hovered, silent, giving your desperate clit nought but the breath from his lips.
"Do you want my fingers...or my mouth?" You whimpered again, babbling nonsense, such a rough and ruined heroine. Kento laughed again, dark and delicious, raising his mask just enough to free his mouth. "No words? No matter. You shall have both."
With little warning, Kento sunk his tongue between your folds, ragging his mouth and nose from side to side again to bury himself in the heat of you. You cried out as he growled into your heat, hitting a high note as he sunk two thick, gloved fingers into your fluttering pussy, slamming inside all the way to his knuckles.
Kento swore against your pussy, grunting and moaning as he lapped at your clit and entrance with animalistic rage. Quite canonically to his role, his cock wept against his belly, pre-cum leaking down onto his waistband until the fabric was cloying and sticky, the friction against his tip sending him spiralling. He couldn't help but fuck against the bed as you melted beneath him, writhing against his tongue.
Panting, letting his gloved fingers fuck into you and imagining it was his cock instead, Kento chuckled against your clit, at just how easily he had snapped. He pulled his fingers out of you for a moment, wickedly obsessed by the stark contrast of your creamy white arousal on the black leather.
He could smell you on the balaclava, the fabric over his nose soaking with your essence. Kento felt lightheaded with the blooming, heady scent of you. His cock twitched, aching and neglected, and so close to spilling thick spurts of seed all over its owner.
You risked looking down for just a moment. The eyes of a villain pierced through you, as Kento licked his gloves clean, not breaking eye contact once. You whimpered. He laughed, and curled his fingers back into you, continuing his relentless attack on your poor, aching cunt. Your moans reached a fever pitch, and Kento felt the creep of his own orgasm through his belly as he rutted against the bed with total abandon.
"Sing for me." He groaned, lifting your hips off the bed as he knelt, sucking your clit into his mouth in a devastating final move. You tipped violently over the edge, bucking against his tongue and crying his name, a stream of nonsensical babbles. Kento was quite sure you came harder than the girl in the story.
By the time you came back to earth, being licked in slow, languid movements through your peak, you saw Kento kneeling between your legs, stroking his cock in long, jerking pumps.
"You've reduced me to this." Kento forced, his teeth gritted and his mask back in place over his mouth. "To this...this boy, fucking his own fist just from the taste of you." Kento cursed, his gloved fist wet with pre-cum, cracking his neck from side to side and growling through his lurid tale. You lay, fucked out, bound, a fascinated by how Kento's whiskey-rich voice could fill you with fumes, warm and drunk one minute, but cold and piercing the next. You swung, manoeuvred across his harsh dichotomy.
Kento loomed over you, trapping you beneath him again, blocking the light from your eyes, a bad moon rising. "You did this to me." He hissed, accusatory in his possession of you. "You started this sordid fight. But I'll finish it. No more fisting my cock at night just to the thought of you. No more dreaming about bending you to my will."
You felt Kento's tip press through your entrance, thick and insistent enough that you squirmed up the bed, crying out as he yanked you back, his hands closing around your waist. Kento plaited his fingers in your tied hands, the ghost of affection, and readying himself to slam into your quivering heat. He was falling apart, he could barely contain himself, overcome by the raw power of making you pliable, shaping you to his desires--
Kento whispered in your ear, his voice shaking, gravelly; "And when you submit...know that it was entirely your fault."
You felt your delicate petals forced aside, crying out to be filled to the brim by Kento in one slick thrust. Kento could barely suppress a roar beneath his mask, throwing his head back in ecstasy. His enormous hands cuffed your waist, making it squidge down against your hips every time he dragged your hips, moving your pussy around him like a cock sleeve.
Kento's strength made manhandling you look easy. You lay ruined beneath him, your head lolling against the inside of your own bound arm. The image of him unbuttoned, masked, gloved and still almost fully dressed above you, grunting and groaning as he used your pussy for his own pleasure, burned onto your retinas.
Kento barely moved his own hips, his eyes fixed feverishly on where he dragged your swollen pussy around the length of his cock, twitching and burning inside you. He couldn't contain himself. The hook behind his navel, all scorched steel and selfishness, beseeched him to drag his pleasure from you.
"Fucking-- ruin you-- never be satisfied...by another man again-- keep running from me, and I'll hunt you down...and take you like this every-- fucking-- time--"
As Kento's pleasure roared over him, he punctuated his thrusts against your belly with the written word in action. Making nothing more than jolted, pitiful moans as he fucked repeatedly against your sensitive cervix and soft-spot, you clambered for purchase, sobbing your pleasure as his gloved fingers rolled your clit between them.
Kento came with a string of curses, his thighs cramping beneath him with the force of it. Feeling his seed begin to pump and spurt into you, he dragged you aggressively to another orgasm with his leathered fingers. He had to feel you clench around him, sucking his seed deep inside you. He had just enough forethought to recall his final, toxic line as he gasped, groaning and bucking with the force of his ejaculation.
You could barely hear him through the fog of pleasure, faint in the distance; "If you have the nerve...to crawl back to me...full and swollen-- know we can be enemies in matrimony, as well as battle."
The room was hushed and dark, the gloom broken only by your mingled, heavy breaths, and the earthy smell of sex. You reached up pulling Kento's balaclava up and pressing a breathless little kiss at the corner of his mouth.
"...but...we still have to get a divorce. I just-- couldn't live with you knowing what I read--"
Kento laughed, his shoulders aching from the weight of the villain, slipping away with his gloves and mask.
#jjk#kento nanami#pseudowho#jjk nanami#nanami kento#kento nanami x you#kento nanami x reader#nanami fluff#nanami kento smut#nanami my love#jujutsu kaisen nanami#jujutsu nanami#kento nanami smut#kento nanami x y/n#nanami#nanami kento fluff#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x you#nanami smut#nanami x reader#nanami x y/n#nanami x you#jujutsu kaisen#jujustu kaisen#Jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#Jujutsu kaisen x reader#Jujutsu kaisen x reader fluff#jjk x reader#Jjk x reader smut
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First Impressions | Eddie Munson x Reader
Stranger Things Masterlist / Inbox Summary: Eddie learns that Dustin has a recently reunited sister, and from the moment he meets you he's a goner. (read part 2 here) Content Warnings / Tags: Pure fluff, henderson!reader, tiny mention of a fight but nothing descriptive, not edited, no use of y/n Word Count: 1.4k A/N: Eddie brain rot cause I couldn't keep it in. Don't know if this is my best work but I'm planning to write more chapters on this so it's just a start, hope you like it
“You need a ride home after this?” It was more of a formality than an actual question, he always drove Dustin home after a session.
“Oh that’s okay, my sister is picking me up.” Dustin didn’t even look up from packing his things away, but Eddie’s head shot up.
“Your- you have a sister, since when?” As far as he knew Dustin was an only child, but now he was wrecking his brain trying to think if he had ever mentioned you before.
“I know you’re bad at math Eddie, but I just told you she’s driving so try and put the pieces together.” Dustin was looking up at him now, challenging him.
“Alright smartass, it’s time for you to shut up.” He told him as he ruffled through his hair, leaving behind an agitated Dustin trying frantically to fix it.
The others had already gone home, but Dustin stayed behind late to help Eddie finish up, a habit that became more and more common as the two grew closer. When they finished packing up Eddie locked the door behind them, and while walking to the parking lot decided he wasn’t quite done interrogating Dustin.
“If you have an older sister, how come I've never seen her around before?”
“I mean she’s been around during holidays before, she lived with dad though but they had a big fight so she’s moved here.” It seemed like a sore topic, so Eddie dropped it for now.
As they got to the entrance of the school and felt the cool air on their skin Eddie indeed noticed another car in the usually empty lot, and you were sitting on the hood of it, a book in your hands as you patiently waited. The last rays of sunshine graced your figure as if the heavens themselves were blessing you, and Eddie had never been so sure he’d seena goddess in his life. It was just like the tales he knew so well, the ones he still devoted his life to, it was as if they were becoming true. You looked up when you heard them approach, smiling at the sight of them and giving Dustin a quick side hug as they reached you.
“It’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot of good things.” You held your hand out for Eddie to take, but all he could do was look at it, staring ahead as if hitting pause in a game, he stood still. He wanted to react, to not make the most horrible first impression possible, but the longer he looked at you the worse it got, getting lost in sight of your smile. “Alright, not a fan of handshakes, notes.” You chuckled as you withdrew your hand, and Eddie cursed himself for not having taken the opportunity to feel how soft your skin must’ve been. You looked at him again, your eyes piercing straight through his soul and he wondered if maybe he had found himself in one of his fantasy worlds, he must have. But the next second he shook himself out of it, because you were real, you were real and in front of him and expecting him to say something.
“I’m Eddie.” he said, nodding his head as if to confirm his own statement.
“So I’ve been told.” Another giggle slipped past your lips, and Eddie wasnt sure if it was from nerves or entertainment, but he was dying to hear more of it, even if he had to make a fool of himself to do so.
Dustins head kept going back and forth as if watching a tennis match of idiocracy. He had never seen Eddie so flustered, so used to the man flaunting with every opportunity that presented itself that this seemed quite out of character. In full disclosure, it was kind of freaking him out to see Eddie so beside himself, and it was freaking him out even further that he couldn’t figure out why. It was probably blatantly obvious to anyone else, but maybe it was for the best that Dustin couldn’t place where the tension originated from, either way, his patience had run out
“Can we go home now, I still have to call Mike to discuss our net strategies” You tore your eyes from Eddie, deciding that maybe it was for the best to head home.
“Yeah alright, maybe I’ll see you around Eddie.” You gave him one last smile as you got in the car with Dustin and drove off, but it took him another minute to pick his shambled ego up from the concrete ground as he berated himself for not being able to utter one coherent sentence. As he got in his van and drove home as well he decided he’d have to grill Dustin for more information on you the next time he’d see him. As he got to the trailer he grumbled a hello to Wayne before disappearing to his room, ignoring the backhanded comment he got about his grumpy disposition.
He wondered if he’d ever be able to convince you he was cool, whether he’d be able to get you to agree to see him again, but after what just transpired he figured the odds were slim. Not that he’d give up so easily, he didn’t have much of a reputation to lose and if he’d be able to get you to laugh again that would be more than enough. But he didn’t get to wonder for long as Wayne knocked on his door, he was ready to tell the man to leave him alone, but the next sentence was one that confused him immensely
“Someone on the phone for you.” Wayne held the phone out to him, expecting him to get up from the bed and take it, but Eddie didn’t move an inch.
“For me, you sure?” He was still not quite sure what to do. “Unless another Eddie is living here I’m pretty sure.” He moved his hand again to accentuate the phone that was still on hold, but once again Eddie just sat there.
“If you want I can tell her to call back-” That’s when he sprung into action, snatching the phoen out of Wayne’s hand
“No! No, I got it. Thank you.” The old man simply chuckled as he left again, closing the door behind him to give his nephew some privacy.
Eddie cleared his throat once before picking up the line put on hold.
“Hello?” he asked, still not quite sure what to do.
“Hi, Eddie it’s me, just wanted to see if you were doing alright.” your sweet voice blessed his ears once more. He doesn’t know what he did to get the universe on his side like this, but he was grateful for it nonetheless.
“Yeah I’m good, listen-” Eddie figured this time he shouldn’t waste his chance, and he probably had some making up to do. “- I’m sorry if I freaked you out earlier, just never seen anyone that pretty before.” You were giggling again, and it brought the biggest grin onto his face. “You didn’t weird me out at all, it was kinda cute. I had to bribe Dustin to let me use the phone so I don’t have much time but I was wondering if maybe you’d like to go out this weekend?” Maybe he should’ve waited a beart before answering, but he was too eager to care.
“Go out, as in a date?” It got him blushing, the red creeping up on his cheeks as he wondered if that’s really what you were asking
“I mean, kinda, if you want to.” He could almost see you blushing on the other side of the line as well, and he decided it was now or never.
“I’d love to.”
“That’s great, I’m still kind of new around here, do you know any good places?” Your smile was present as you spoke, and he was already looking forward to seeing it again, now knowing he wouldn’t have to wait long.
“How about I come and pick you up, we can go to the mall.” His confidence was growing with the minute now, absolutely elated by the turn of events.
“Im looking forward to it” He wondered what you’d wear, knowing whatever it was it would look beautiful on you, and he knew he’d spend the entire date amazed at your presence.
“Me too” he said before the both of you hung up the phone, he had already started planning the most amazing evening out, and maybe, he thought, maybe this year really would take a turn for the better.
[part 2 here]
#eddie munson#eddie x you#eddie stranger things#eddie x reader#eddie#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson x reader#eddie x y/n#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x henderson!reader#eddie munson fluff#eddie fluff#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fandom#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie fics#stranger things fic#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things#stranger things x reader#stranger things x y/n#stranger things x you#stranger things fluff#eddie imagine#eddie munson imagine
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Unkempt desires
Megumi meets gojo again 20 years later after the big battle.
Genre/Warnings-: reincarnation au! Grownup! Megumi, he has a family, our gumi all grown up, crackhead yuuji, mentions of death, flashbacks.
Megumi looked over the sea. Its waves glimmering brightly as the sunrays dance shimmers along the tides.
Something about it was nostalgic, maybe it was the warm fuzzy smell or maybe it was the azure of the water under the bright sun, which resembled the eyes of someone, who megumi was once under the debt of— Satoru Gojo.
Maybe he is still in debt.
The scar from the battle on his face has now faded into a cream color slightly in contrast to his face.
He wondered how gojo’s scars would have looked if he were still alive now. Would those millions of cuts on his skin prick him with the memory of Megumi, unconscious, fighting with him under sukuna’s control? Will they prick him like splinters of iron, bringing tears to his eyes? Lol he would probably just laugh it off.
The fact that he even wrote him a silly letter apologizing for something as grave as murdering his biological father, with a pun and a silly doodle included.
Megumi chuckles at the memory of how he used to hate those eyes peeking on him, especially on nights when he had fever. Almost giving him a heart attack.
Ironic how he hated them back then, and how he misses them now!
‘Megumi, let's make a sand castle’ he would say, on his days off, when he forced the fushiguros to the beach, to have some family time. You would laugh with tsumiki on those castles which barely even looked like one.
“Hey, dad! Let's make a sand castle!!” A little girl ran up to Megumi, tugging his hand and dragging him.
“No need to hurry y/n, the sand ain't going anywhere.” Megumi said as the girl kept dragging him towards the failed attempts of sand castles she made.
He now had a family, a happy one. One lovely wife he fell in love with(which he never thought he would) and one daughter dear to his heart. He named her after you, the only mother figure he ever had in his life.
It's been 21 years since then.
You were no longer alive, nor was gojo. Still the memories were alive. The memories which he treasured with an uncertain fear in his heart, he didn't quite recognise, until his daughter started to look exactly like you.
Her eyes resembled yours, her lips resembled yours, your face resembled hers, so did her curse technique.
His wife said maybe it was a blessing, a reincarnation. She was happy, so was Megumi, but it would be wrong to admit he wasn't afraid.
Afraid of history repeating.
Afraid of his daughter's curse technique to evolve.
Afraid of an uncertain future even beyond his capacity to behold.
Itadori barged into his office, wearing nobara’s skirt.
“ I'm Kugisaki nobara!!!!”, he went to such an extent on detailing his look that he even stole one of her eye patches.
“You're gonna get your ass drilled by her hammer once she finds you.” Megumi drawled checking through the files of the freshers who are about to enroll into their school. He's a teacher now, continuing what gojo dreamt of, so did Itadori Yuji.
“You're not fun. And you shouldn't use such language, if you're raising a lovely daughter. Wouldn't want her to turn like nobara or maki senpai.” He said, pulling on the chair and settling on it with one leg crossed over the other.
“Well, why are you here?” inquires Megumi, already full of his drama.
“To inform you that we are going to get a kid off execution.”
“Execution?”
“Yes, a potential threat to higher ups and society.” Yuji tapped his fingers on the wooden desk polished with varnish, his face slowly adapting to the depth of his statement.
“To the higher ups?”
“Mhm, yeah the great stuff gojo sensei did…I can't believe I missed such a great show.”
Megumi was silent for a while. The last threat to the higher ups ever to be born was gojo and geto.
He could never imagine someone could be more of a threat to them. Until and unless they find out about his daughter's curse technique.
“Let's get going already, I don't think they will resist the urge of killing the kid for any longer.” Itadori got up from the chair, followed by Megumi. (And don't worry he was caught by nobara midway who kept the drilling ass move for later and let him go to meet the kid)
Itadori was reminded of a similar yellow hue and the fresh flood of memories following it, some pleasant, some bitter that made his throat itch. However, someone who was more pale in the execution room was Megumi. As something wasn't sitting right with him. Every single step he was taking was increasing the dread he felt for his daughter's reality to be discovered. And he didn't understand why he felt like that.
Finally they came to the familiar hall and in the center of it was a boy sitting in a chair, his back facing them. He wore a navy hoodie and his complexion was pale. Even paler than Megumi.
Itadori glanced at Megumi before calling out to the kid, who was unnaturally calm, as if he were about to watch a movie instead of getting himself killed for bearing a burden he never chose to bear.
“Kiddo! We're here to save your ass for getting killed…mind facing us a bit.” cold sweat broke out on Megumi, as Itadori let those words out his mouth. Even he wasn't feeling good. Something was so, so wrong.
The kid stood up. His hair, a familiar silver. He turned slowly, for what seemed a long agonizing time. And when he finally did.
Megumi was numb.
It was him. The same eyes. The same mouth. The same hair. But it was as if time got tangled in its own threads and somehow the gojo satoru, who was long dead, was in his child form in front of their eyes.
Itadori gulped, he glanced at Megumi, before getting his shit together and shutting his mouth, preventing himself from gaping at the kid.
“I'd prefer you save yourselves from me first. And I wouldn't feel any remorse for not having a better judgment." The kid spoke in a voice, a lot less mature than the boys remembered of gojo. Then they remembered, the kid’s just 12 years old.
And Megumi was right. Something was so wrong. Cuz’ even if the kid looked exactly like gojo, he wasn't any like him.
“You shouldn't mess with satoru gojo.” He said, his fingers forming a hand sign, with slight blue light sparkling.
“Sensei…” whispered Megumi, which was barely even audible, and yet nothing changed in the kid's demeanor.
He was gojo. Alive and reincarnated. And Megumi knew it. But gojo didn't.
a/n- I was nervous writing this, since i haven't wrote for so long, forgive me if this is shit!
#satoru gojo#jjk#gojo satoru#jjk x reader#gojo satoru x reader#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen x satoru gojo#jujutsu kaisen#gojou satoru x reader#satoru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#jujutsu megumi#megumi x yuuji#megumi fushiguro#itadori yuuji#jjk x you#nobara kugisaki#gojo angst#gojo fluff#gojo smut#satoru gojo smut#springtime fushiguros
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HOUSE OF CARDS aventurine x gn!reader
summary “a house of cards, and us inside,” a phrase that aventurine often says in between your endless arguments. you always thought that your relationship will be happy and full of affection, only to be met by illimitable arguments.
⌕ ... angst, hurt/comfort, light angst, spoilers (aventurine’s past), mentions of kakavasha, both reader & aven is tired n they broke up once in the past, arguments, gambling, pet name, anxiety ??, based on this song n my hc on this post. a/n : post for celebrating aven’s banner ! aventurine wanters will be aventurine havers :3
all day your head has been feeling dizzy after continuously hearing screams from your boss. he felt he could call and curse people whatever he wanted, not knowing that he was actually the main problem.
your body shaking violently made you feel vulnerable as you leaned on the wall next to prevent you from falling. exasperation is no longer there, easily replaced by your disgust that you can't do anything.
and that’s when you realized that there’s no smell of alcohol that always wafting through your nose. it’s strange, you think. you look around, only to be greeted by gloom and despair atmosphere.
there was only one thing that crossed your mind; “he's gambling again isn't he?” he always does it, even though his left hand always holds the chip tightly. even though he continues to doubt the blessing he received since birth.
knowing the blessings he received, you should be able to calm down; in the end replaced by restlessness doubt. what if he loses? what if he’s in trouble now? what if, what if…
and you should not doubt the blessings of gaiathra triclops, because the door next to you suddenly opened and revealed aventurine standing—while holding his injured arm.
the two of you stared at each other awkwardly for three seconds, before you opened your mouth and said, “seriously?”
You don't know whether it's because of exasperation or short of infuriation you feel right now, you immediately said that. the next thing you know, you regret it.
“what? i just came home and you greet me like that?” he scoffed.
“aven, you’re hurt.”
“of course, it’s my job afterall.” you held your forehead, feeling the dizziness appear again and this time it was more painful. “and now you act as if this is all my fault.”
you frowned at his statement. “i’m not blamming you.”
“i’m just worried because you always come home like this!”
aventurine sighed. after that he walked past you without saying anything. "at least let me treat you, just once."
your question was only answered by excruciating silence. at least answer the question.
‘no way, no way, it’s collapsing again.’
aventurine remained sitting on his king size bed which was mostly occupied by himself. he was just silent, thinking about what had just happened. i shouldn't have said it.. i shouldn't have refused.
i should have known it from beginning; we're both tired. and why do we keep trying?
aventurine is now standing, ignoring the fresh wound on his arm that he still hasn't treated. before it’s too late, he think. there is still time to apologize.
that soft knock on your bedroom door should be enough to tell you that he wants to apologize. he’s standing in front of the door with a feeling of unease that never went away, and then you opened the door.
with blurred vision and barely able to see the figure in front of you, you remained standing. "sorry," you both said it at the same time. the only words you both could say at that time.
“i’m so sorry, aven. i’m too tired that i can’t think clearly. i should always try to understand you because that's your job.” your words stopped because of your sobs. “i—“
“—a house made of cards, and stupidly, us.” aventurine stopped your words. he smiled disappointedly at himself. "we're both exhausted, and there's no one to blame.”
“i’m sorry that i’m always telling you that we can do it again. i… didn't think twice about how you feel about this,” he said.
“i always dreamed that we could live happily together like this. i’m sorry baby, it’s such a useless dream, isn’t it?”
you tried to hold back your sobs. “even if you say it’s a useless dream, just stay a little more like this. i’m okay with this.”
there will be tomorrow and we can try this again, you think. time will slow down just to let the two of you fix the mistakes in the past that once caused you to broke up.
“when i said that i don’t need you to treat my wounds, it’s because… i’m ashamed by myself; my body, my wounds, my past. i don't want your hands to touch any part of me that is despicable.” you were surprised because you never once thought he was despicable.
“aven, it's in the past, and it's not your fault.“ your hands found their way to wrap around his body. “you can rely on me now, please.”
“kakavasha.”
“please call me kakavasha from now.”
you smiled. “yes, kakavasha.”
in the end, there's nothing wrong with trying again.
#konstelasiv fanfic#aventurine honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x gender neutral reader#hsr x you#hsr x reader#aventurine x y/n#aventurine x you#aventurine x reader#hsr aventurine#hsr x y/n#hsr angst#honkai star rail x you
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❨ DREAMER DIARIES ❩ ─── 엔하
𝓮𝓷𝘁𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 of seven 𝐥𝐨verboys
somewhere along the lines of love and relationships, seven young boys get lost making love feel like a distant dream which they could not quite grasp onto. ── 🧸 so what happens when they fall under cupid's spell when they least expect it !
╰ dream girl has a future in you ❨ 𝓬𝓾𝐩𝐢𝐝 ❩ ──── high school series ! fluff and sometimes angst in most ʬʬ includes. enhypen ☁️ watch out for ! ៳ profanity, skin-ship, kissing and more ⵌ WC . . . est 1OK for each
MY DREAMS OF LOVE
⌕ [ archives ] one result found . . .hi chat this is a lil gift in celebration for 1k!!! thank you so much I appreciate it and love you guys so much mwah!!! also im sick and tired of not seeing lovesick loser enha so tada!!!! id probably be updating this slowly with other works but I do hope you like it!! reblogs and comments r very much appreciated ^^
ENTRY ONE ┋ NISHIMURA RIKI
❨ right now ❩ nishimura riki was deemed the most aloof and mysterious pupil at belift high, while you were the opposite, being the social butterfly of the school, nicknamed "belift's star." you felt yourself drawn towards the young boy, but your plan of winning him over didn't go as smoothly as planned. read here !
a true teen romance ─── ❨ 𝓼𝓽𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 ❩ writing ! cold! riki x popular! fmr . ⁺ fluff ; angst ; she falls first, he falls harder ❨ warnings ❩ profanity, family issues, skinship, kissing F𝐄𝐀TURE wonie of enha & dani of nwjns ⵌ W.C ─ est 1OK
ENTRY TWO ┋ YANG JUNGWON
❨ stupid cupid ❩ jungwon had a blessing and a curse. the moment he was around, everyone seemed to fall in love with each other! yet no one seemed to fall in love with him. so when the poor boy sets his eyes on you─ the girl who gave up on love, he couldn't get you out of his mind. read here !
cupid's first arrow ─── ❨ 𝓼𝓽𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 ❩ planning ! cupid! jungwon x antiromantic! fmr . ⁺ fluff ; angst ; opposites attract ❨ warnings ❩ profanity, skinship, kissing, crazy stuff idk F𝐄𝐀TURE sunoo of enha & haerin of nwjns ⵌ W.C ─ est 1OK
ENTRY THREE ┋ KIM SUNOO
❨ best interest ❩ sunoo always loved his silly sketchbooks and the rusty old art room in corner of the school hallway, but what he loved the most was the peace and quiet he had in that small room. so it was justified why he felt angry when a stuck up bookworm had found solace in the walls of his art room. read here !
her dreams in his sketchbooks ─── ❨ 𝓼𝓽𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 ❩ planning ! artist! sunoo x bookworm! fmr . ⁺ fluff ; angst ; crack ; enemies to lovers ❨ warnings ❩ profanity, bickering. skinship, kissing, friend issues idk F𝐄𝐀TURE minju of illit ⵌ W.C ! ─ est 1OK
ENTRY FOUR ┋ PARK SUNGHOON
❨ strawberry soju ❩ so maybe sunghoon wasn't the smartest in the class! but his athletic future heavily depended on his grades. so he had to resort to you─the top student of the school. what he didn't realise was that even if your lectures were sleep worthy, you were somewhat making him addicted to you. read here !
your addictive touch ─── ❨ 𝓼𝓽𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 ❩ planning ! soccer player! sunghoon x tutor! fmr . ⁺ fluff ; angst ; crack ; unlikely pairs ❨ warnings ❩ profanity, kissing, kinship, jealousy F𝐄𝐀TURE jake of enha & wony of ive ⵌ W.C ! ─ est 1OK
ENTRY FIVE ┋ SIM JAEYUN
❨ espresso ❩ you were known as the pretty girl down the street that made the best espressos so when this particular statement came to jake’s ears — the coffee lover had to try it out for himself. so after his astute observations, he came to the conclusion that he now definitely had a new favourite café—and a new reason to visit. read here !
coffee made with love ── rich kid! jake x barista! fmr honey bee ! fluff ; crack ; love at first sight ❨ warnings ❩ profanity, kissing, F𝐄𝐀TURE jake of enha ⵌ ISN'T THAT SWEET ! ─ 1OK
ENTRY SIX ┋ PARK JONGSEONG
❨ get up ❩ you were always the goody two shoes, passing up a cigarette or a drink at any given moment ─the perfect angel everyone admired. but like every thing pure, it must be injected with a spike of venom, more specifically park jay─ the troublesome punk. though what jay didn't expect was that the more he tried to shake you, the more he felt his own world tipping over. read here !
stars around his scars ─── ❨ 𝓼𝓽𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 ❩ planning ! punk! jay x innocent! fmr . ⁺ fuff ; angst ; hates everyone but you ❨ warnings ❩ profanity, smoking, kissing, fights F𝐄𝐀TURE ning2 and gigi of aespa, tyun of txt, more ⵌ W.C ! ─ est 1OK
ENTRY SEVEN ┋ LEE HEESEUNG
❨ cherry wine ❩ prom was coming up and you were sure everyone in the school but you had a date. this wouldn’t bother you, but when lee heeseung—the school ace—asked you out, you thought it had to be a joke. so you would go out of your way to reject him infront of his friends. well you were right about that part but little did you know, he’d turned it into a challenge to win you over before prom, not knowing it was going to bite him right in the ass. read here !
two shoes for dancing ─── ❨ 𝓼𝓽𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 ❩ planning ! heartthrob! heeseung x unupopular! fmr . ⁺ fuff ; angst ; opposites attract ❨ warnings ❩ profanity, arguments, more F𝐄𝐀TURE jake of enha, hanni of nwjns ⵌ W.C ! ─ est 1OK
dreamer diaries tags . @dreamiestay
perm tags . @zuyairus @bubblytaetae @yenqa @redm4ri @hanniluvi @haechansbbg @taejaysreads @shinunoga-iie-wa @teddywonss @naespas @isoobie @dimplewonie @jennaissantes @aishigrey @firstclassjaylee
#enhypen imagines#enhypen reactions#enhypen#enhypen texts#enha imagines#enha crack#enhypen headcanons#jake x reader#niki x reader#sunoo x reader#enha fluff#sunghoon x reader#heeseung x reader#jay x reader#jungwon x reader#sunoo imagines#jungwon imagines#niki imagines#sunghoon imagines#heeseung imagines#park jay imagines#sim jake imagine#enhypen x reader#heeseung scenarios#niki fluff#kim sunoo#jay scenarios#park jay scenarios#jay smau#jay park
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Are you mine?
So I was initially going to do maybe 500 words worth of them being cute and cuddly, but then this happened. I have no control at this point, I am just the messenger.
Astarion x F!Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Bard Tav, soft Astarion, Astarion POV
Mostly fluff and comfort with a bit of hurt (Astarion’s past recollections), basically just pillow talk, cuddling, banter, non-explicit, no spoilers
Very late Act 1 / early Act 2 (pre-confession). I’ve already written past this point earlier, but I think it’s such a fun time to return to for anything flirty, with Astarion being in love but being pissed off and / or in denial about it.
Approximately 2,000 words
AO3
Being able to get by with little sleep was both a blessing and a curse. In no time at all you were ready to take on whatever the day would throw at you. You were rested, alert, ready for battle. The downside? The amount of time you had to spend alone with your thoughts.
You weren’t fully alone, not exactly. You laid on your side with your nose buried in her neck, one of your arms underneath the pillow, the other wrapped around her, your leg following the bend of hers like you were chasing her warmth, bare skin on bare skin, your bodies filling each other’s nooks so perfectly.
You could have been up and doing something useful, you supposed, but you didn’t want to waste a precious second of being able to just hold her.
You winced and sighed, having caught yourself on that thought.
Pathetic idiot...
The truth was, you knew you were living on borrowed time.
Oh you toyed with the idea of amassing more tadpoles for more powers and seeing how long and how far you could take this, but in your heart of hearts you knew this was a lunatic idea. The absolute best-case scenario was that one way or another, the tadpole would be removed from your brain, removing all its benefits alongside it.
Then, you would spend the rest of your eternal life in the shadows, forever looking over your shoulder in fear of being dragged back to Cazador.
You would never see the sun again.
You would probably never see her again.
Suddenly feeling choked up, despite not really even needing to breathe, you pressed your lips against the small of her neck, pausing then landing a few more small, soft kisses along her shoulder.
She stirred and rolled over onto her stomach, looking at you with a knowing smile through her mess of hair.
Shit.
“Oh... I thought you were asleep,” you said.
“I know...” she replied, stretching lazily. “You only kiss me like that when you think I’m sleeping.”
So many implications in that statement. Your mind immediately churned out a dozen ways to respond, deflecting, denying, joking or otherwise brushing it off. But you wanted to see where leaning into it might take you.
“Do I..? Here, I’ll fix that.”
You leaned toward her, placing a soft kiss on her lips. Just your lips brushing against hers, petal-soft. She closed her eyes and hummed in pleasure as you trailed your lips further along her skin, leaving featherlight kisses from the corner of her mouth further up the side of her face.
You were careful to keep the kisses tender rather than sensual. Not something you were accustomed to, at all. She smiled and squirmed a little as your lips dipped below her jawline near her earlobe.
“That tickles...” she murmured, making you chuckle.
“My sweet girl,” you whispered, nuzzling her ear.
Ugh, where in the hells did that come from..? you thought, startled.
She noticed. Of course she noticed.
She shifted onto her side, propping herself up with an elbow and resting her head on her hand.
“Am I? Yours?” There it was again, that knowing, quizzical look.
“Are you not?” you asked.
“Hmm... How can I tell?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” you flashed her a roguish grin, which she ignored.
“Should it be? Is there something you’ve done to claim me as yours?”
Her words might have stung, had her tone not been so playful rather than mocking. She was encouraging, not denying you.
I don’t suppose she’s going to count all the unspeakable things we’ve done to each other. I guess I wouldn’t either.
“Is that what you want me to do?” you asked, slowly tracing a finger down her arm.
“That depends... Do you want me to be yours?”
This conversation was idiotic. Why was it making you increasingly giddy?
“Come now, we have been doing this for how long? Are we really going to be coy about whether or not we like each other?” you asked, trying to sound assured rather than flustered.
She leaned forward, as if to reveal a secret for your ears only.
“That’s not quite what we’re being coy about, now is it?” she whispered, before placing a lingering kiss on your lips.
You were completely out of your depth in this kind of flirting, if one could call it that. Concentrating on the physical and sexual, dropping innuendos, hinting at promises you had no intention of keeping, teasing, arousing, adding in just the right amount of vulgarity to otherwise honeyed words to make them blush and stammer in trepidation... That you could do all day as an afterthought, all while mulling over something you had read earlier, or otherwise being a thousand leagues away with your thoughts.
But this... It was like she was playing with and delicately caressing your innermost, rawest feelings, all whilst inviting you to do the same with hers. Sex was barely even a consideration. This was an entirely different dance. And it was exhilarating.
Before you could think of what to say, she moved on.
“You know, Lae’zel propositioned me earlier,” she said, briefly burying her face in her hands and shaking her head with a quiet, incredulous laugh.
“She did what? ...And how did that go?”
“It was very... Lae’zel. I wasn’t sure whether she was offering to kill me or fuck me at first. I had to politely decline.”
“And you didn’t tell me?” you frowned.
“Should I have?” She studied you with a curious look, resting her chin on her hands. “How would it make you feel? If I accepted her offer?”
Like the whole world was pulled out from beneath my feet. Again.
“You and Lae’zel? Hmm. Sounds like something I’d pay to watch.”
“That’s not what I asked.” Her eyes seemed to be piercing straight into your soul. You had to quickly do a double-take on whether your tadpole might have been betraying anything to hers, before rebuking yourself. She wouldn’t pry like that.
Your eyes roamed around the tent as you tried to assemble some words that weren’t too far from or too close to the truth.
“Lae’zel is... exotic. Far be it for me to stand between anyone and such an... ‘outlandish’ experience. But I would prefer to have you all to myself, if it’s all the same to you. I don’t devote all that time to making sure that pretty head of yours stays on your shoulders just to have Lae’zel decapitate you in her throes of passion.”
“That’s still not what I asked, but I’ll let it slide,” she rolled her eyes. “Getting a straight answer from you is like trying to seduce a blushing maiden.”
“A riveting challenge?”
“A tiresome one. That’s most likely not worth the effort.”
How many blushing maidens have you seduced?
“Alright, fine, I admit I might be a bit jealous. ...On top of being concerned for your wellbeing, darling.”
“Just a bit jealous?” she teased.
“Matters of honour would demand that I challenge her to a duel,” you sighed.
“You have no honour. And she would crush you.”
“I know. But I would die a hero’s death. Songs about me would live through the ages. ...You might need to write them for me.”
“Sure, right after I wrote songs about how I conquered a githyanki,” she snorted. “Or perhaps songs about being conquered by one myself? I could spin it either way. Which do you think would stir more loins?”
“I don’t know and my own loins are taking no part of this. Now are you going to keep talking nonsense, or will you go back to sleep already?”
“Why, so you can sneak more tender little kisses on me?” she laughed.
You didn't really want her to fall back asleep. Talking with her kept your darker thoughts at bay. What you did want, was to feel her wrapped around you again.
“You know what? If you’re not going to sleep, you may as well carry on with your business, and I’ll meditate sitting up for a change.”
You snatched the blanket from her, making her exclaim a sharp “Hey!” as the cold mountain air touched her bare skin, and wrapped it around yourself, settling in a cross-legged position. Moments later, she was on your lap, facing you with her legs wrapped around your hips. Just as you anticipated. You smirked and accepted her in your blanket cocoon, wrapping an arm around her waist and holding her close as you kissed her.
“So, my blushing maiden,” she said as she leaned away from you, slightly, stretching her arms around your neck and resting her forearms on your shoulders. “It seems I have you backed up against a wall. I won’t force you – do what you will with your virtue. But you must decide. Will you give in willingly? Or deny me, and spend the rest of your life wondering: what if?” She leaned in to whisper the last two words dramatically. “I will ask you again: do you want me to be yours?”
You wondered if she had any idea how apt that comparison really was to how you felt.
Or how eerily similar it was to some of the tactics you yourself employed when luring in your victims. Hells, even the words were almost identical to some of the ones you’ve used. To make them surrender with reckless abandon, throwing all caution to the wind, blinded by your promises. Cattle rushing happily to the slaughter.
You knew all this. You’d seen it countless times. But just then, you also saw there was no malice in her eyes. Only something like hope that she was trying to mask with mischief.
Wherever she was leading you, you wanted to follow.
“Fine,” you said softly, looking into her eyes. “I do want you to be mine. And no, I don’t want to share you with anyone.” You felt oddly elated as the words left your mouth. “I’d feel compelled to dismember any hand that touched you, so to give me a fair chance at survival, could you stay away from Lae’zel? Please?”
She grinned and grasped your face in her hands, pressing her lips against yours.
“Good girl,” she purred, still grinning, earning herself a sharp pinch on her bottom, making her jolt before she continued. “This leads me to my next question: do you want to be mine?”
There it was. The trap beyond the lure. You saw it clear as day. And still, you wanted to follow her.
“Darling, after the past 200 years, I’m really not disposed to letting anyone else claim ownership of me”. You watched her smile falter, and you hurriedly continued before it turned to sadness or disappointment, or worse, pity, and spread to her eyes. “But I just might make an exception for you… If the offer is mutual.” You took one of her hands in yours. “So, are you? Mine?” you asked, placing a kiss on her knuckles.
Who’s backed against a wall now?
"Of course I am. As if you even needed to ask.” She touched her forehead against yours before placing another kiss on your lips. Did she have to sound so triumphant saying that? “I am yours and no one else’s. Now you say it.”
Ah, still me.
Still, you fought hard not to laugh as a feeling of relief spread warmly throughout your body. You hadn’t even noticed how tense you were.
“Alright, alright...” You cleared your throat and held a dramatic pause before continuing. “You are mine and no one else’s.”
She let out an exasperated growl and grabbed and twisted one of your nipples. You chortled even as you yelped, grabbing the offending hand and holding it behind her back. She immediately made another attempt with her other hand, which you also successfully intercepted, now holding both her arms behind her. Refusing to give up, she went for your shoulder with her teeth, with a maniacal giggle, as you laughed and tried to fend her off with your chin.
“Yes, I’m yours, I’m yours, you feral wildcat! I’m yours... Only yours.” you declared hastily into her hair somewhere near her ear, as she calmed down. “I mean it. Now behave! I always ask before I bite, don’t I?” you said, releasing her arms.
She attempted to glare at you, her eyes narrowed, but couldn’t keep her face straight and broke into a grin again.
“Well... Look at us...” she drawled, placing her arms back onto your shoulders. “Snatched up onto the nautiloid with nothing but the clothes on our backs, and now we’ve each got a whole other person.”
She looked so pleased and happy... Why..? This couldn’t last. No matter how much you wanted it to. …Could it..?
You were falling, deeper and deeper.
My love... My sweet, sweet love... Where are you taking me?
~~~~~
Next in series - Gentle warding bond
Want more of these two? There’s more. Series master list.
AO3
#astarion#baldur’s gate 3#bg3#astarion fanfic#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#bg3 fanfic#prying Astarion’s feelings from his cold dead hands#1st base raw sex#2nd base I anxiety vomit in front of you#3rd base we go outside during the day
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