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Kinktober Day 10 - Tentacles (Moon Presence)
Kinktober Day 10 - Tentacles, Moon Presence x Reader, Bloodborne
Masterlist
Misc. Tags/Info - Reader is good hunter who takes gehrman's place after the hunt and is Flora's plaything, but is Strangely into it. GN reader - usage of âholeâ specifically anal. Angst, actually kinda sad but that is expected of bloodborne, long set up sorry. Flora is referenced as the Moon Presence the whole time and has it/its pronouns, bcuz unfortunately the reader does realize the feminine grace of Flora. Monster fucking ofc, its bloodborne, eldritch horror fucking.
WC - 707
Nsfw under cut
Every Great One loses its child, then yearns for a surrogate. For a long time, that so-called surrogate child was the pathetic old man you knew as Gehrman. You heard him weep, heard him cry out for a release in the darkest of nights.Â
So you released him, were embraced by the Moon Presence in his stead, and took his role. It was a cycle, the night began again, then you were alone with the Doll, the night began again, then you were alone with the Doll, the night began again -Â
You were tired. So very tired. The Doll, for as kind as she was, did not have much to offer you. She was a mimic, a doll, a copy, a clone, a puppet, and the more you wanted something else, someone else, someone to hold you whoâs hands werenât jointed and cold.Â
The Hunters who came were hard to talk with. Some were hysterical, some were downright sociopathic, some were hardly human. The blood, the hunt, the wolves, the flowers, the moon, everything was getting on your nerves. Yet the Moon Presence never seemed to come down - staying stationary and sad, solemnly mourning the loss of its surrogate.Â
That is, until you were fed up enough to yell for it, to let out your anger and sorrows in a rampant and rage filled string of words that you were sure it wouldnât quite understand. But for the very first time, it seemed as though the Moon Presence would recognize you as its surrogateâs successor and do something.Â
But it didnât, not in the way that you believed it would.Â
Like the very first time you beheld it, it held you, large spindly boney fingers wound tightly around your torso. You gulped as you stared at it - fear or awe - it didnât matter, you were long in its grasp.
It tilted - what you thought is - its head at you, peering close, almost brushing up against you. It was a cold neutrality, its grip neither warm nor cold, like some dead zone, like you were incapable of feeling its touch. But you werenât. You had drawn its attention, and was now rigorously examining you, like some kind of plaything.Â
Your breath stilled, you didnât even struggle in its grasp. The feelers - the tentacles? - behind its head crept forward, slithering over your face, points caressing and dipping against your skin. It wasnât quite scaly, nor was it fleshy, it was soft and slick, but not sticky or wet. It was a sensation unlike anything youâd ever felt before - one that made your skin tingle beneath it - made you want it to touch you more.Â
Once it had sufficiently investigated your face, the Moon Presenceâs tentacles slid down your chin, your neck, and between your skin and clothes. Little effort seemed to come from its part, effortlessly extending its reach against your skin, leaving that same impression on your chest as it rubbed against your bare skin. The deeper it stretched its tentacles, the thicker the gap was, tearing your clothes like a letter opener for the curiosity of what was hidden.Â
Just as you were curious of the Moon Presence, it was curious of you. Curious of all of your cracks and crevices, taking the time to gently explore you, sliding its tentacles between the part in your lips. Rolling the strange appendage over your tongue, over your body, and investigating you further.Â
It didnât taste bad, not like iron or rot, it wasnât pungent but fragrant, flowery or floral and tingling on your tastebuds. It left a blooming sensation in your head as it slid inside of you, hardly needing any time to prep you, as its tentacles were thin and slick until they weren't. You couldnât contain the squeak you made as it rolled inside of you, your rage long gone, disappeared by the ribbed sensation of its tentacles within you.Â
Again, it tilted its head, the Moon Presence so very curious and repeating the motion several times in the attempt to coax another noise out of you. You failed horribly in trying to keep anything contained. It seemed intent on exploring every cavity you housed. You didnât know if you were more afraid, aroused, or amazed.
#bloodborne#moon presence#bloodborne smut#bloodborne x reader#moon presence x reader#flora#flora of the moon#monsterfucking teehee
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with you, i'm first | miya osamu x reader
in which miya osamu is used to coming second to his brother. but with you, he's always first.
wc: 1113 | gn!reader | fluff
Miya Osamu is used to coming second.Â
It starts with Atsumu, like most things do. October is cold and gray and Atsumu comes first, a small body with a large presence that fills the warm hospital room. His cries are loud and heâs a little underweight, but with him comes the sun.Â
Atsumu is born under a partly cloudy sky but the nurses swear he was shrouded in sunlight.Â
Osamu comes twelve minutes later. His parents are crying and his Ma is close to passing out. If he thinks really hard he can almost feel her warmth, Atsumuâs sobs, and a mumble of prayers that October has safely brought Atsumu and then Osamu.
He asks Grandma one day what the weather was like when he was born. She says, with confidence, it was foggy.
Atsumu doesnât get along with his classmates. He is too loud and too rash and lacks social cues, and Osamu is angry because Stupid âTsumu cares too little: and he wants everyone to know Atsumu like he knows Atsumu.
They fight and they yell and they argue until Atsumu says,Â
ïżœïżœSamu, I donât care about âem. Why do ya care so much?Â
And Osamu throws him across the room. The argument ends there, he says sorry, and Osamu lies awake that night thinking about his brother. Atsumu is hotheaded. And an idiot. A loud snorer, too. But he turns on his side and curls into a ball because he knows it was sunny when Atsumu was born and all of a sudden he really wants to be his brother.Â
Atsumu dyes his hair first: itâs a shitty box dye from the pharmacy down the street, and it looks terrible. Itâs a little yellow and a little neon, and Osamu laughs until his sides hurt when Atsumu shows him.Â
But Atsumu is proud, and he is confident, and he goes to school with a hundred watt smile and a group of girls trailing after him.Â
Osamu goes to the pharmacy that night and buys a box of gray, cloudy dye. Atsumu helps him bleach his hair under their bathroom sink with the faulty tap and tells him he looks like the moon.
His Ma says that Atsu is hot and Samu is cold after the two have a particularly bad fight. Atsumu is gleeful and smug as he gloats that he was born to be hotter and warmer and better, and Osamu punches him.Â
He remembers his Ma sitting on the porch, an arm around his shoulders as he pouts.Â
ââS not fair,â Osamu had said, his chin in his palm. âWhyâd ya name Tsumu that?âÂ
His Ma had laughed, quietly, leaning her weight into his side. And she had held his cheeks between her palms and told him with a fire in her eyes that Osamu means To Rule.Â
He meets you for the first time in February.Â
You were standing in front of him, a little sheepish, with a box of chocolates in your extended palms. He remembers feeling something heavy in his chest. Because, yeah, Atsumu was definitely going to accept your confession.Â
You had said, IReallyLikeYou, and HereâsSomeChocolates, and Please Accept Them.Â
You were shorter than him, and your hair was done nicely, and you were blushing and nervous. And you were really fucking cute. But Osamu is used to coming second, so the only thing that comes out of his mouth is, Why? And then, Tsumuâs in tha next classroom ovâr.Â
He doesnât remember what happened next, only Atsumuâs laugh and the slap echoing through the halls. You leave with his cheeks stinging and hot. And Atsumu had teased him the next day, behind his mountain of chocolates and confessions, because Osamuâs face was still red twelve hours later.Â
He sees you a lot the year after.Â
Youâre in the same class as him and âTsumu, and you smile every time you see him. You sit two rows in front of him and youâre not very good at tying your uniform. Every lunch, Osamu watches you pull out the same gray bento with a wrapped onigiri on the side. He tells you one day that he really likes onigiri. And then, Osamu watches as every lunch, you pull out the same gray bento with two wrapped onigiris on the side.Â
With you, itâs always Hi Osamu, first, and then, Hullo Atsumu. With you, itâs an onigiri dropped on his desk when the lunch bell rings. With you, Osamu thinks back to a conversation with his Ma on a porch.Â
Osamu means To Rule.
The menu is this: Tuna mayo on Mondays and Thursdays, Ume on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. Friday is plain. You donât ever bring onigiri for his brother.Â
He asks you, on a hot night in June, what your favorite type of weather is. You had your knees tucked to your chest, a sparkler in hand, and then told him cloudy. Cold. Foggy. Winter. Snow is nice, too. You say it all with no hesitation.Â
Osamu kisses you for the first time that night.Â
Itâs New Years and youâre cooking Ozoni on the stove. The curtains are open, itâs snowing outside, and Osamu wakes to the smell of miso and the sound of carrots on a chopping board. He gets out of bed, padding to the kitchen with half-lidded eyes and a stifled yawn, and then he thinks his heart stops when he sees you.Â
Because what Miya Osamu is not used to is this: coming first and having something unequivocally his.Â
But youâre bent over the counter, fiddling with the oven as you read the instructions on the back of the packaged Yakimochi you bought the other day. And youâre wearing his shirt, it falls right below your thighs, your hair is still messy from using his chest as a pillow, and you look beautiful.Â
âMorninâ âSamu, come help me with this.â You say, looking back at him with a smile, pointing to the fresh pot of rice on the counter. âYouâre in charge of onigiri.â
He hugs you instead, his arms around your stomach with your back to him.Â
âBut I like yer onigiri,â He says, his chin on your head. His eyes are watering and it must be from the steam of your boiling dashi.Â
ââSamu,â You complain, giggling as he presses kisses into the crown of your head. âI made enough for ya in high school.âÂ
Itâs cold outside and snowing, and Osamu knows heâs going to make the onigiri.Â
He also knows that if his name means To Rule, heâs okay with coming second if it means youâre by his side.
#miya osamu#osamu#osamu x reader#miya osamu x reader#osamu fluff#haikyuu x reader#osamu x you#haikyuu fic#haikyu x reader#osamu fic
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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, ÂżSofter Aemond?, Arranged Marriage, Jealousy, Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Fingering, Oral Sex (F receiving), Targcest, Not ProofreadÂ
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.'
Aemondâs 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 kinâs return. âSpying, brother?â Aemond jumped in his spot, his sister taking him by surprise as she appeared by his side. âI am not,â he said defensively, and Helaena only hummed, gazing below as the day of your awaited arrival had arrived. âThen why have you been waiting by this window since the morning?â Helaena asked, and Aemond clenched his jaw and stayed silent, not giving a response to his sister.Â
âCome, join us, Mother, and I shall greet them,â Helaena invited, and Aemond shook his head, scoffing at his sisterâs invitation. âIâd rather not subject myself to their⊠treasonous presence,â He said, and Helaena sighed, walking away in silence.Â
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. âShould we not tell her already? How long must we keep her in the dark about our true purpose here?â Your brother whispered to your mother. âYour grandsire shall be the one to tell her. The king must be the one to impart to her his wishes and orders,â 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.Â
âHelaena!â 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. âHow are you?â You asked, paying no mind to the tense conversation between your parents and the queen. âWell. I am glad of your return,â She smiled, and you only smiled as well as you could not lie and agree with her statement. âIâve been told you now have three children,â You tried to converse, and Helaena nodded. âI do; little Maelor arrived just two moons ago,â She confirmed, âWould you like to meet them?â Helaena asked, and you eagerly nodded, slipping away from your kin who were to venture to your grandsireâs chambers.Â
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. âAre you spying, brother?â Aegon appeared by his side, Aemond being caught off guard for the second time that hour. âI am not,â Aemond spat and walked off, but Aegon still followed him. âI have to admit, even I did not expect our niece to grow so⊠enchanting,â 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.Â
âIf youâre still having qualms about this marriage, perhaps it could be I to marry her instead.â Aegon hummed, further testing his brother. âThe conqueror had two wives, did he not?â Aegon added and noted the way his brother clenched his jaw and fisted his fists. âYou are no conqueror,â Aemond gritted and made hastened steps towards the tiltyard to escape his brother. âI do not understand your animosity, brother,â Aegon still followed.
âWere you not so⊠overly fond of her years before?â He asked and made fast steps to match his brotherâs furious gate. âIf I had remembered correctly⊠you had even asked Mother if you could be betrothed to her when you were nine,â Aegon reminded, and Aemond halted in his steps as he was made to recall the instance. âLeave before I succumb to my thoughts and maim you,â Aemond gritted, his hand already clenched around the hilt of his sword. Aegon let out a laugh at his brotherâs threat but retreated because there was a murderous intent in Aemondâs eye.Â
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 brotherâs actions were genuine or just another ploy to aggravate him.Â
âI see your intended has arrived,â Ser Criston stated as his eyes went towards where the princeâs gaze was placed. âAye, she has,â Aemond gritted and shook his head, twisting the sword in his hands and urging himself to continue training. âHave you spoken to her?â Ser Criston could not help but ask, curious as to what the marriage order by the king would entail.Â
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 brotherâs eye was cruelly taken.Â
âNo,â 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.Â
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. âNiece,â Aemond greeted, the word said through his teeth. âUncle,â you curtsied quickly, and Aegon smirked as the scene unfolded before him. âWell, isnât this nice,â he stated, and you turned your gaze to your elder uncle. âA reunion that is well overdue, do you not think so, brother?â He asked and clapped the back Aemond, who stared daggers at him. You licked your lips as you felt tension now surrounding the air. Aemondâs 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.Â
You parted your lips, ready to speak, but a call through the tiltyard caught your attention. âTala,â Your stepfather called; the three of you turned towards the steps and saw the Rogue prince approaching. âGood day, uncles,â 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.Â
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 brotherâs order. But the king had made up his mind. You were to marry Aemond.Â
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. âWhen do you think weâll leave?â 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. âI do not know, sister,â 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.Â
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 encountersâ 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.Â
âMust we not already tell her? Weâve been here for two days already, and she is still completely clueless about the reason for our return,â Jacaerys asked his mother, who sighed deeply. âAye, I would take she would not appreciate this secrecyâ especially the severity of the situation,â Daemon added, studying his wife who stepped towards a window that overlooked the gardens where you spent the afternoon in.Â
âThe king must be the one to tell her. He⊠he must be the one to tell her his wishes.â 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 toâ 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.Â
âThe king has been incoherent for days. The wedding ceremonies they prepared are set in a fortnightâ we must tell her Rhaenyra. She must know of the matter now so she could prepare herself,â Daemon spoke, âPrepare herself to escape,â Jacaerys muttered under his breath, already imagining your reaction that would surely be filled with shock and betrayal.Â
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. âIf my father still has not regained his thoughts by the morrow, then we shall tell her at tomorrow eveningâs supper,â 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.Â
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. âQuite luminous, is it not, your highness?â You slightly jumped, startled by the voice that made itself known. You turned to your right and saw a son of House Tyrell. âIt is my lord,â You agreed with a small smile finding itself on your lips.Â
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. Aemondâs 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.Â
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. âUncle,â You greeted in surprise as Aemond suddenly appeared in the hall. âGood morrow, my prince,â Lord Tyrell greeted, and Aemond could not make the effort to not let his contempt not show. âMy Lord,â was all he replied with, feeling your confused gaze by his left as he stood by your side. âThe Princess and I were just discussing this portrait. I had remarked on its luminosity and shââ Aemond rolled his eye and cut the lord off.Â
âIf you shall excuse us, Lord Tyrell, I must speak with my betrothed. Alone.â He said, voice utterly cold and almost threatening. Your lips agape at his words, your mind unable to comprehend what he had uttered. âWhat?â You suddenly asked as Lord Tyrell bowed towards you before hastily walking away. Aemond turned to you, expression angered. âAre you truly this careless? Walking the halls alone, engaging with a lord without an escort. Do you not thinââ You hindered him from completing his scolding. âWhat are you saying?â You asked in confusion. âBetrothed?â You added, and Aemondâs brows furrowed.Â
âDo not act simple with me; you know perfectly well of oââ You cut Aemond off once more. âWhat are you talking about? Betrothed? What?â 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. âYou do not know, do you?â He asked quietly. âKnow what?â 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 youâ 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?Â
âWe are to be married,â Aemond stated, and you gazed up at him as if he had grown three heads. âUs⊠married?â 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. âYou have an odd sense of humor, Aemond. But I am glad that after all these years, you finally learned how to jest,â 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.Â
âAre you serious?â You asked, your tone dripping heavy in disbelief. âIt is the order of the king,â he replied, and you shook your head. Aemond clenched his jaw as you still did not believe his words. âWhy do you think youâre here? After all these years of informal exile, why do you think your family was summoned? You and I are to be married.â 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. âI⊠I do not believe you; you are lying.â You say, and Aemond stepped closer. âWhy 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.â Aemond said lowly, his face drawing closer to yours.Â
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. âYou will be my wife.â 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.Â
âMother!â 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. âMy sweet girl, what is it?â She asked and took hold of your hands. âTell me it is not trueâ tell me he lies,â You almost begged. âWhat?â Your mother asked quietly, not accepting the fact that you now knew of the betrothal. âPlease, youâre not marrying me to Aemond, are you? Thatâs not true, yes? He was just teasing me,â 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.Â
âIt⊠it is the order of your grandsire,â 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. âNo⊠please, you cannot make me!â 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. âPlease⊠I⊠let me speak with grandsireâ he cannot marry me to him,â You pleaded, and your motherâs saddened eyes gazed at you, her warm touch moving to wipe the tears on your cheeks. âIâm 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.â Your mother whispered.Â
You sniffled in your seat, your thoughts running with dread and confusion. âWhy did you only tell me now? How could you hide this from me?â You asked in betrayal. Daemon sighed and went to where you sat, kneeling before you. âWe 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.â He said softly, watching as tears fell from your eyes. You bit your cheeks and shook your head, âWhen⊠when must we marry?â You asked in dread. âIn a fortnight,â Your mother replied and felt her heart clench as you stifled a sob. âIâm truly sorry, my sweet girl,â She said softly as you cried quietly in her arms.Â
âIt would appear they hid it from her,â Aemond remarked to his mother as he sat in her chambers. âThey thought they could still alter the orders of the king,â She remarked as quietly as she observed her son, who stared at the fire. âI still have not asked you about your thoughts on this marriage,â The queen remarked, watching as her son clenched his jaw. âYou need not ask; you already know of it,â Aemond answered. The queen breathed in heavily.Â
âThis may not be what you want now⊠but this was all you had wanted when you were a boy,â Aemond shook his head, a scoff leaving his lips. âWill 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 meâ especially when my bride is to be so⊠plain,â 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 plainâ 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.Â
âIs this truly necessary?â You asked your father as you were sitting in a carriage. Aemond was still to board it, but he and his grandfather were conversing. âIt is what your grandfather wished,â You hear your stepfather say, his violet eyes shifting to your betrothed. âBut why? Is he even of sound of mind? I thought others were now tasked to do his bidding; why did they let this happen?â 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. âBest stop your bellyaching. You are not the only one who is shortchanged with this marriage.â You gritted your jaw at his words, turning to your father wide-eyed, trying to discern if he had heard it as well.Â
Daemon clenched his fist around the hilt of his sword at his nephew, who had the gull to offend you, his precious daughter. âYour brothers and I will follow closely behind. It is only for a few hours, tala,â he gritted, and you unconsciously pouted as your father walked away, leaving you alone in the presence of Aemond.Â
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. âYou might want to lessen the scowl⊠the purpose of all this is to present a united figure,â You whispered as you passed a crowd.Â
âI will not be part of this farce,â Aemond spat and glared at a group of men whose hungry gaze were enclosed on you. âYou are a prince of this realm. You have no choice but to be the crownâs puppet,â You said, with a tight smile as you waved toward a group of women. You feel Aemondâs 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.Â
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, âPlay 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.â 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.Â
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.Â
You stood before the door of the great hall, your arms linked with your mother as she walked you down the aisle. âI donât want to,â 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 motherâs, and she prevented you from doing so. âI am so sorry, my sweet, but not even you are above duty⊠none of us are,â 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.Â
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.Â
He could not explain howâ 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.
âWith this kiss, I pledge my love,â 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 youâ his entire being immediately starved for so much more than the quick and chaste entanglement of your lips.Â
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.Â
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 immenselyâ a pretense of unity that none seemed to notice, for your hands were tucked under the table.Â
When Aemond felt your stare, he turned to you, and you searched for the familiar cruelty and hatred in his eye; you found none. âDo you wish to dance?â 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.Â
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, âIâm quite tired,â You said lowly, and Aemond gave a curt nod, taking your hand into his once more and guiding you to your seats.Â
Five more songs passed with you and Aemond in complete silence when your sisters appeared by your side. âSister⊠weâre to help you to prepare for the⊠night,â 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, Aemondâs eye following your frame until you fully disappeared away from his view.Â
Aemond gritted his jaw as he felt his brother clap his shoulder, âAre you ready for the bedding ceremony, brother? I hope you still remember what I have taught.â Aegon teased and took your vacated seat. Aemond stayed silent and downed another chalice of wine, ignoring his brother. âBut it is fine if you are not ready⊠perhaps I could substitute in yââ Aemond turned to his brother with a severe glare. âOne more word concerning my wife, and I will cut your tongue,â Aemond gritted, and Aegonâs amusement only grew. âThere he isâ there is the boy who wanted no one else but our niece.â Aegon grinned.Â
âYou are a great actorâ 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,â Aegonâs grin grew wider, and he quickly stood to walk away before his brother turned violent.Â
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 nightâ 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.Â
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 marriageâ at least tonight.Â
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. âKneel,â 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.Â
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.Â
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 Aemondâs 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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
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.Â
âWhatâ Aemond, no!â You say breathlessly and try to close your legs shut, but his hold on your thighs is too strong. âYou told me we must perform our duty, wife⊠let me perform them,â 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.Â
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 thisâ after this initial duty, when would be the next time heâll have the opportunity to have your cunt against his face.Â
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. âAâAemond,â You called as he inserted the digit, your body rigid and back arching the sensation. âSuch a tight cunt⊠you kept yourself pure for me,â 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.Â
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.Â
âFaster,â 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. âAemond⊠please, Iâ I need it faster,â 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.Â
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. âOh gods⊠Oh gods, Aemond!â 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.Â
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.Â
Part Two: Loathe to Love
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The moon and his sun
Aemond Targaryen x Female reader
Summary: People would remember their story. Even decades after they were gone, Septaâs would tell young children about the one-eyed dragon prince and his sweet wife as if they were a part of a fairytale, too good to be true for the harshness real life possessed.
Aemond meets a young girl who quickly becomes his most cherished friend and changes the course of history.
Word count: 11.5 K
Warnings: Fluffy, Aemond finally makes a friend, characters will be aged up next chapter, reader is from a made-up house
AN: This is my first time writing for HOTD and I'm excited and terrified to share this story with you. I've had this idea in my head for so long and decided to finally get it out. Hope you enjoy xx
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Epilogue
~~
He was used to playing for second best.
In his short life he became used to disinterested gazes, murmurs of his supposed cold heart and fits of rage, avoidant steps when he passed, the curse he possessed as the scarred second son.Â
But never from her.
She looked at him as though he put the stars in the sky. She looked at him as if he was the reason the sky bloomed with breathtaking colors in the early morning.
He felt himself unworthy of her attention and affection, something she was aware of, and she would hold him and tell him all the love she gave him was very much deserved.
It was a sentiment he always had trouble not disputing instantly.Â
She made his miserable heart full.Â
Aemond couldnât believe his luck himself for the sun that entered his world and brightened his life.Â
He never believed he was worthy of her love.Â
And she spent her entire life trying to prove him wrong.
~~
It was a beautiful, sunny, cloudless day.
A day Aemond was dreading.Â
It wasnât often their family made trips away from Kingâs Landing. His father was King and most visitors made the effort to come to the Capitol and spare them the effort of a visit, but a sudden trip had their entire family uproot their usual routine and he found himself hating every moment of it.Â
Being dragonless, he was left to endure the crashing waves of the sea that made his stomach turn.Â
âThis place is disgusting.â Aegon said the moment they landed on solid ground.Â
âAegon.â His mother admonished with a steady glare. âThe Ixtal Islands are a beautiful place and theyâre home to one of the most powerful houses in the seven kingdoms. You would do well to show them some respect.â
âNot like theyâll offer me anything of importance.â He muttered bitterly. Rumors had spread of his mother and fatherâs desire to wed him to his sister Heleana, his future already planned for him.
His mood was immediately soured at the realization that none of the beauties he saw on the Island shore were his intended, but that wouldnât stop him from having his fun.Â
âWhy are we even here?â Aegon whined immaturely, making his mother suppress yet another eye roll in response.
âThe Lord of Ixtal is an old friend of your father.â
âI still donât understand why that demands my presence here.â Aegon rolled his eyes.
âOur council is in need of a new Master of Coin and your father is considering his dear friend. We are here for negotiations and our family is nothing if not loyal. Your father, our King, needs us.â Alicent answered shortly.Â
Aemond was excited to finally see the Island he had read so much about. He knew their history, their riches and goods they traded with the entirety of the realm. The Ixtal Islands were the most plentiful and prosperous house in the realm and he was in awe to see his readings come to life before him.
It was the socialization he dreaded.Â
Nobles would look at Aegon with respect, respect he didnât deserve even being the first born son of the King. Helaena would be regarded with reverence, a comparison to the Realmâs Delight.Â
But he was nothing more than a second son, easily brushed over.
Daeron was still just a babe, too young to understand the slight they possessed not having been born first, but Aemond understood all too well.Â
Their family was escorted into a grand throne room and Aemond was in awe of the intricate ornaments that decorated the hall and he briefly wondered why Kingâs Landing was where the most powerful man in the realm sat when this place existed.
His wide eyes eagerly took in every sight in front of him, admiring how the vast forest behind the castle casted a mystical green glow on the room from the giant window sitting behind the intricate gold throne.Â
âViserys!â A cheerful voice called and for the first time in a long time, Aemond heard his father laugh, a genuinely delighted sound as he embraced his friend.
Aegon shared a brief look with him, his shock at hearing his father's laughter clear in the way he furrowed his brows in bitterness.
âItâs been too long, my friend.âÂ
âAlicent, always a delight to see you, my dear.âÂ
Aemond noted the blush on his motherâs cheeks as the charming lord embraced her. He shifted on his feet as his siblings were introduced. He knew what came next, the flippant dismissal was familiar yet it stung each time.Â
He looked up as the Lord shook hands with Aegon and gave Helaena a polite nod, her body language giving him the signal she wasnât comfortable with anything else.Â
As he stepped in front of Aemond, he suddenly felt two feet tall under the manâs gaze. Until he smiled. It was a gesture filled with warmth he hadnât been expecting.
âAemond, a strong name for a strong lad.â The lord clapped his shoulder and Aemond felt his body straighten, his confidence reappearing the second he realized he wasnât going to be passed over yet again.
He looked up at the Lord with a smile, feeling more respected by the stranger in front of him than he ever had from his own father.
âYou remember my wife,â The Lord gestured to a finely dressed woman who smiled and bowed to them courteously.Â
âMy son and-â The lord stopped abruptly, suddenly noticing the absence of the person who was supposed to be next in line and looked to his wife who was already wincing, having expected the abrupt drop in conversation due to their eldest daughterâs absence.
âMy apologies, my daughter has lived here all her life yet still feels the need to explore.â The Lady of Ixtal explained, the lack of anger in her voice that gave way to begrudging acceptance made it obvious this was a common occurrence.
Viserys laughed and looked at his friend.Â
âYou could not possibly think your children would give you any trouble, would you?â He chided sarcastically to the Lord who could only laugh in delight at his beloved daughterâs antics.Â
Aemond watched the interaction with wide eyes, intrigued by the sense of ease that surrounded everything.Â
If they were in Kingâs Landing and he was late to an event, his mother would have his hyde.
Suddenly, the great doors slammed open and an armored knight was seen running into the room, his hand latched onto someone small who was giggling in delight.
âMy Lord, My Lady, I am so sorry, she wanted-â
âItâs quite alright, Ser Jerrod. I know my daughter could not have made it easy for you.â The Lord dismissed the unnecessary apology and smiled down at his daughter who smiled somewhat sheepishly as she passed by to take her place in line.Â
She smoothed her hands down the front of her silk dress and stood straighter, putting on the air of the perfect and primed daughter, as if they hadnât all just seen her enter in a tizzy five minutes late.
Her mother looked down at her and leaned over her brotherâs shoulder to pluck a leaf from her disheveled hair. Her eyes widened slightly, fearing retribution for her antics, but her mother only raised a teasing brow, silently admonishing her.Â
The girl brushed her messy hair off her shoulder and finally moved her gaze to their guests, a smile coming to her face as she met the eyes of the silver haired boy in front of her.
Aemond was rooted to his spot, his expression one of perplexed confusion. The smile she sent him, the gesture which was so simple - and usually faked by most at court - was blinding.Â
He was taken aback by the fact that she hadnât looked at the powerful presence that was the King or the Queen faithfully at his side. She hadnât looked at Aegon, Daeron or even Helaena, the only girl close to her age in the room.Â
She looked at him first.Â
She smiled at him first.
It was a gesture that wouldnât mean much to anyone else, but to him, it meant everything, it lifted the veil of neglect he was so familiar with from his shoulders, leaving him to feel lighter than before.
He listened as the Lord introduced his daughter and he ran her name over and over in his head, feeling his cheeks heat, a blush easily coming to his face as she greeted everyone, but her stare came back to him, smiling shyly.
~~
âThis place is beautiful.â Helaena spoke dreamily as she took in their surroundings.Â
They were granted leave to look around while the servants prepared to set up the welcome feast.Â
Aemond couldn't take his eyes off the white sand and the crystal blue water. He breathed deeply, relieved to smell nothing but fresh flowers and ocean water and not the filth that permeated Kingâs Landing.
âFather should take over this place.â Aegon mused, earning looks of disdain from his siblings, which he easily shrugged off. âWhat? Itâs much better than our shithole of a home.âÂ
Aemond rolled his eyes at his brotherâs crass nature and kept walking, praying Aegon would somehow get lost or at least get bored of his company and leave.Â
The sound of a loud laugh caught all of their attention and they walked their way through the lavish gardens to find it. Aemond suddenly became nervous as he saw the children of the Lord and Lady of Ixtal.Â
The oldest son was playing some sort of ball game with his younger brother. The youngest sibling was reading quietly with her Septa. But the eldest daughter was nowhere to be found.Â
As they stepped forward, the youngest son straightened and nudged his brother to stop. Catching sight of the young Targaryen princes and princess they let the ball they were playing with drop to the ground as they bowed respectfully.Â
âHello.â Helaena spoke brightly and the two young boys were helpless against her sweet nature and they both smiled and greeted her warmly.
âWhereâs the other one?â Aegon asked rudely, looking around for the pretty girl from earlier who was missing.Â
Aemond grit his teeth, praying Aegon wouldnât drive her away before he even had the chance to speak to her.
âSheâs in her tree.â
âHer tree?âÂ
The oldest brother pointed to the enormous willow tree behind them.Â
He called out to his sister, alerting her to the presence of the royal children and just seconds later, Aemond watched with a slowly growing smile as a lithe form began to descend the ancient tree.Â
She was slightly out of breath as she jumped the last few feet to the ground, brushing her already tangled hair out of her face as she practically skipped towards them.
As if her Septaâs teachings and her motherâs scolding from that morning had finally caught up to her, the smile on her face fell slightly, remembering she was in the presence of royalty. She slowed her pace and curtsied slightly clumsily as she came before them.Â
âIt is lovely to see you all again. I hope you are enjoying Ixtal.â
Aemond felt his face heat with a deep blush at the sound of her voice, the slight accent he heard capturing him instantly and he wished nothing more than to take the book from her young sisterâs hands and demand she read it to him just so he could continue to hear the beautiful sound of her voice.Â
âYour home is lovely. Iâve never seen anything like it.â Helaena spoke, breaking him from his thoughts. She moved towards the girl, the two of them engaging in easy conversation.Â
Aegon began speaking with the two brothers, learning the rules to the ball game they were playing, the young boys instantly getting along. Which left Aemond to stand by himself.Â
He shifted on his feet anxiously, contemplating if he should leave and find his mother. Heâd at least have someone to talk to then. The pit in his stomach that grew as the familiar feeling of loneliness settled over him broke abruptly at the sound of the beautiful voice again.
âWould you like to sit?â
He looked up, his eyes meeting hers and for a moment, he wondered if she had actually been speaking to him. His gaze found Helaena who was now kneeling to talk to the youngest of the children who was mesmerized by her lavish dress.
Which left the oldest daughter alone and her gaze on him.Â
He swallowed against the lump in his throat and stepped forward slowly, his heart racing as he took a seat on the bench next to her.Â
âWhat are you writing?â He asked after clearing his throat, wincing to himself at the nerves that lingered in his words.Â
âDrawing actually.â She corrected. âAnd not very well by the looks of it.â She shifted closer to him to show him the sketches in her notebook, the scent of lavender invading every one of his senses as her shoulder brushed against his.
His eyes looked over the shaky drawings of flowers and the willow tree she had been sitting in just moments ago.Â
âTheyâre beautiful.â
She smiled and the sight was enough to leave Aemond thankful that he was sitting.Â
âDo you draw?â
âNo, nowhere near as well as you.â
âYou must be shit then because these are awful.â
Aemond choked on his breath at her words, his wide eyes looking over at her in shock. She had a carelessness to her that he thought he wouldâve found arrogant, it was certainly how he felt about the other ladies at court who were so brazen before him.Â
But he found he could only feel enamored by the girl beside him.Â
A quiet laugh escaped him, his stomach flipping in ways he had never felt before.Â
âTheyâre not so bad.â He spoke quietly, his nerves reverting him to his bashful nature.Â
âYouâre quite the flatterer, Aemond.â
No words came to him, he was left to stare back at her, completely taken aback by her easy nature and blinding smile.Â
She continued to show him her other sketches, the conversation between them flowing easily, something that Aemond had never experienced.Â
Later, as their guards escorted them away to prepare for the feast, Aemondâs ears rang with the sound of her laughter, leaving him to hope he would hear it again before he had to leave.Â
He spent the night with a smile on his face, behaving more animatedly than he had in all his life. Alicent had looked at her second son with barely contained emotion, delighted to see him so at ease.Â
She was so caught up in her emotions, she hadnât even noticed how his eyes never strayed too far from the eldest daughter of Ixtal.Â
~~
The mischievous island girl was known to walk around the halls of the castle at all hours. It had happened so often for so long the guards didnât bother to stop her anymore and no one batted an eye when they saw her wandering.Â
She made her way to her parents chamber hours after she had been put to bed.Â
She couldnât stop the thought in her head and she had to see it through.Â
With a smile to the guard at her parentâs door, she strolled in as if it were her own chamber. Her parents looked startled for all of a second before they sighed in resignation.Â
âShouldnât you be in bed, Darling?â
âI was.âÂ
Her father huffed out a laugh. âSo what brings you here, Troublemaker?â
She let out a breath, her shoulders straightening, as if portraying herself as proper would help her cause.Â
âI want to go with you to Kingâs Landing.â
Her request did not go over as easily as she wished, she spent the next hour arguing with her parents, pleading her case. She may have overstated how much her decision to learn more about court, but her parents did not need to know her desire lay purely with her need to explore what the Capitol could offer.Â
Her parents knew she loved to explore and the chance to see a new part of the realm was too tempting to not indulge her in. Her parents loved her more than anything, they loved and doted on all their children in ways that left Lords and Ladies from other houses to scoff and roll their eyes in disdain.Â
They couldnât say no to her.Â
By the next morning, she stood at her fatherâs side as their ship sailed to Kingâs Landing, her arm linked through his, her head filled with the wonders of what this new place would have to offer.Â
A smile grew on her lips as she pictured the shy boy who had complimented her drawings and her excitement began to grow.Â
~~
She was more reserved than she had ever been as she sat beside the table of royals. King Viserys had planned an extravagant welcome feast for the Lord of Ixtal, his new Master of Coin and his daughter to welcome them to Kingâs Landing.Â
She had never experienced so many Lords and Ladies approaching her before, giving her their hand to shake and curtsey before them in greeting. It felt as though she had never truly existed until she made it to the Capitol, where the matters of the court actually held weight and prospect.
Her father had regaled many a knight and Lord over the course of the night, leaving her by his side to sit quietly, the overlooked daughter. She knew the power her house held, she knew the reason most Lords gave their good fortune to her father was to ensure their trade routes would continue prosperously. She knew she was nothing more than fodder at her fatherâs side.
She picked at her food unhappily, contemplating her decision to venture so far from her home, so far from what was comfortable. Her eyes rose from her plate, surveying the large throne room before her, catching sight of her father in talks with a large group of Lords from around the realm.Â
With a heavy sigh, knowing she couldnât interrupt her father, her eyes moved to the head table where the Targaryen family sat.Â
The head seat where the King sat was empty, he was busy at her fatherâs side. She let her eyes roam over the queen, taking in her quiet servitude and demure presence. Her gaze fell to the heir, Princess Rhaenyra sat with her husband Laenor Valaryon, her brows quickly rising at the sight of the brown haired children sat beside the silver-headed wedded pair.Â
Her eyes fell to Queen Alicentâs children, a small smile growing as she caught the gaze of Princess Helaena, the quiet girl sparing her a wave to which she eagerly reciprocated.Â
She was never one to fade into the background and she eagerly took the Princessâ gesture as a sign of goodwill, standing from her seat to make her way to the head table.Â
Helaena beamed at the girl as she approached, oblivious to her elder brotherâs lustful intrigue and her younger brother who sat up straighter as the girl approached.Â
âHello, my Lady, I hope Kingâs Landing is treating you well.â Helaena greeted the girl happily.Â
âIt is lovely, Princess. I am sincerely grateful to your father for allowing myself and my father to reside in your home.â
âWe are delighted to have you.â Helaena assured her. She fidgeted with her hands for a moment, her face turning bashful for a moment. âThe ladies of the court will be gathering tomorrow, you should join.â
âIâd love to.â She responded eagerly, relieved to know her newfound solitude would not be long held.Â
âYou should join us for breakfast as well. I can show you my collection.â Helaena added excitedly.Â
âBy the Gods, Helaena.â Aegon groaned beside her.Â
âCollection?â She asked, staunchly ignoring the prince sitting next to the blushing princess.
âMy insects. Iâve collected quite a beautiful group of them. Iâd love to show you.â
Helaena had a lovely innocence to her she was powerless against.Â
âIâd be delighted to see them.â She told the princess sincerely, hoping she had found a friend in the eccentric girl. âIâve also heard wonderful things about your library. Iâm eager to read the works about Valryian history and the Targaryen dynasty. There are only rumors where I come from.â
Aemond sat forward in his seat, his eagerness to interject himself finally coming to a head.
âI can show you to the library.â Aemond offered, finally making his presence known.Â
âOh, I wouldnât want to take you from your duties.â
âYou wonât.â He insisted, positive his face was blooming with a pink blush as her attention now lay on him. âThere are many books that have not been translated, I would be happy to read them to you.â
He seemed to melt under her gaze that watched him curiously.Â
âYou would do that?â
âOf course.â He insisted.
âThat would be wonderful.âÂ
He was thankful he was sitting because her smile would have knocked him off his feet.Â
By the next morning, as soon as the sun rose, he was sitting in the library, anxiously anticipating her arrival. He didnât have to wait long until the door creaked open and her eager eyes took in the vast shelves around her.Â
She greeted him with happiness as if they were long time friends, causing his stomach to flutter in ways he had never felt before.Â
âThis is incredible.â She mused, eyeing the many books she had to indulge in.
They spent the afternoon together, her at his side as he read the Valryian texts of their history, stopping every few minutes to answer the many intrigued questions she had.Â
Aemond was sure his face was on fire, he had never blushed so hard. No one had ever taken such an interest in him, no one had ever paid so much attention to him, no one had ever bothered to listen to him.
But here she was, this girl at his side, eager to know more, asking question after question, trusting him to give her the answer. As soon as he began to fear he had spoken too much, taken too much of her time sheâd drawl out âtell me moreâ or âwhat happened nextâ and he was rooted to his seat, turning to the next page as he explained the history of the Targaryen dynasty to her eager ears.Â
He had never felt so important.Â
~~
Kingâs Landing proved to be just as wondrous as she dreamed it. Granted, it didnât have the luxurious beaches or sprawling forests her home did, but she was just thrilled to be exploring a new corner of the world.
Aemond had quickly become her closest ally. He had taken to showing her every inch of the place he thought she would enjoy, dragging her along to the mazes of gardens, the weirwood tree, the luxurious Sept, but her favorite had to be the library. She had spent many late nights with Aemond at her side, perusing through the many ancient works of Valyrian history.Â
It fascinated her, but she couldnât deny she loved to hear Aemondâs voice as he read to her, enthralled with stories of Aegon the Conqueror and his two sister-wives, stories of ancient dragons and their riders, of wars long passed.
A week into their stay, as she broke her fast with her father, she was practically bouncing in her seat, shoveling her food into her mouth as quickly as she could, eager to get the meal over with so she could meet with Aemond and Helaena, the two of them quickly becoming her closest confidants. Â
âSlow down, my love, youâre going to choke.â Her father warned with a chuckle at her enthusiasm.Â
âSorry.â She mumbled through the food in her mouth, causing her father to grimace at her very unlady-like behavior.Â
âYour eagerness wouldnât have anything to do with a certain Targaryen, would it?â He asked slowly, his knowing smile teasing her clear affection for the young boy she was growing closer to each day.Â
âHelaena and I are good friends.â She shrugged, effectively dodging her fatherâs prying. He rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat, watching her thoughtfully. He had no idea where she had gained such a witty mouth, it certainly wasnât from him or his sweet, quiet wife.Â
She finished the rest of her breakfast at record speed and hopped out of her seat, pressing a quick kiss to her fatherâs cheek.
âIâll see you at dinner!â She called out over her shoulder as she skipped to the door.Â
âBe safe!â He called out, but she was already racing down the halls. He looked to the guard at the door pointedly who nodded and trailed after the rambunctious girl.Â
She slowed her pace once she reached the courtyard, suddenly very aware of the many eyes that would be on her if she was caught sprinting through the halls. She spotted a head of silver hair by the gates and she beamed, throwing all care out the window as she began to jog towards him.
âAemond!â She called out and watched as the boy turned to her, his own smile growing at the sight of her.Â
âTook you long enough.â He jested playfully and reveled in the dramatic scowl she sent him.Â
âIâm not late. You are just an insane man that voluntarily wakes with the sun.âÂ
It was so small, something so miniscule, but it still managed to make his heart race. Knowing she remembered a small detail about him, no matter if it was something that was so inconsequential, was something he couldnât wrap his head around.
He hadnât expected it to affect him the way it did.
~~~
She found herself with Helaena in the gardens, finding any bugs she could for the enigmatic
princess. Digging a jittery bug out of the dirt, her nose scrunched in distaste as the many legged creature crawled over her hand.
âWhat is this thing?â
Helaena peered over curiously and a wide smile beamed on her face.
âThatâs a beetle.â
âTheyâre not poisonous, are they?â
The princess laughed in amusement at the widened eyes that met her gaze and she shook her head. âNo, youâre safe.â
The girl nodded and, though still on edge, was less stressed as she held the bug in her hands.Â
Helaena, preoccupied with her own bugs, stole frequent looks at the girl next to her, noting the unease in her eyes. She smiled lightly and leaned in close to her.
âYou donât have to do this with me. I know not everyone likes the things I like. I can do this by myself.â
The girl looked startled by her words, a frown growing on her usually bright features and she looked down at the bug in her hands again, her eyes shifting from a look of disgust to one of determination, as if she could force herself to not feel grossed out at their existence.
âI like being here with you.â She said softly. âI donât really have anyone else here.â
Helaena frowned, the thought of her brother immediately coming to mind and the smile that would grace his usually sullen face every time he was with the Island girl. As if she had conjured him herself, she looked over her shoulder, noticing him coming their way.
âHello, Brother.â She smiled, though it was futile as his attention was locked onto the beauty beside her.
âHello.â He spoke, though his eyes never left his sisterâs friend. âWhat are you doing?â
âFinding bugs. Would you like to join?â
Helaena, having expected a ânoâ, given it was always Aemondâs answer anytime she asked him for help digging through the gardens, was shocked as he took a seat among them and dug his hands in the dirt before them without question.
The Princess watched with barely contained delight as her brother and friend immediately started conversing as if she werenât there, the comfortable ease between them thriving.Â
Usually she would feel slighted by such an occurrence, but rather than feeling ignored, she was happy to see her brother, who was usually so serious, look completely unburdened. She worried about him, about how tightly wound he was, but since the Lord of Ixtal and his daughter had come to Kingâs Landing, she had noticed his demeanor change, as if he could finally take a deep breath and release the things that so often held him down.
Aemond looked at the dirt beneath his fingernails and mourned at what his night routine would be subjected to, but he found he didnât care all that much. The stolen glances to the girl beside him had all sense of propriety out the window.Â
âDo you do this every day, Princess?â She asked the Targaryen who shrugged shyly.
âMost days. I find I prefer the company of bugs over people.â
The bark of laughter that left her had both the siblings smiling, her joyful nature contagious.Â
Aemond was transfixed, until he heard his name and he was forced out of his daydreams. He looked up at Aegon who was standing before them, judgment painting his features.
âWhat are you doing here?â
âWeâre digging for bugs, Brother.â Helaena answered innocently, her eyes thankfully locked onto the caterpillar on her finger so she didnât see how her brother rolled his eyes in disdain.
Aemond glowered at his brother, his mood dampened, his protectiveness for his sister rising involuntarily whenever he was around. He hated seeing Helaenaâs eyes dim with every one of his hurtful words.
The Island girl looked between the siblings, beginning to understand just how different they were to her and her own siblings. The more time she spent with Aegon, the more she disliked him. She looked back at Aemond and frowned, noticing the dower expression grow on her friendâs face, and she called his name.Â
âHmm?â
âWhat are these?â She asked, her dirt covered fingers trailing over the petals of the flowers in front of them, diverting his attention from Aegon.
âMarigolds.â He answered quickly, as if he wanted her to be impressed by his knowledge. âYou donât have these in Ixtal?â
âNo. Itâs a shame, theyâre beautiful.â
Aemond bit his lip, his heart racing as she moved back to digging for bugs. He ignored the nerves that coursed through him and reached out to pluck the flower.Â
âHere.â
She looked up and her eyes widened, her cheeks burning as he tucked the flower behind her ear, his shy smile mirroring hers, his hesitance clear, but his bravery clearer.
Aegon scoffed, rolling his eyes at the pair.Â
The noise caused them both to glare at the older Targaryen, their eyes narrowed in annoyance.Â
âYou two are pathetic.â
âItâs not our fault your pea sized brain cannot comprehend the idea of caring for someone other than yourself.â She snarked easily, making Aemondâs eyes widen as he nervously looked between her and his brother whose face twisted in anger.
Thankfully, his brother was smart enough to know not to start a fight with her and he stomped away, most likely in search of more wine.
âYou shouldnât do that.â Aemond mumbled, his worried eyes lingering on his brotherâs figure as he stormed off.
âDo what?â
âAntagonize him.âÂ
âSomeone needs to knock him off his high horse. Why canât it be me?â She shrugged, perfectly content to be the antagonist in Aegon Targaryenâs life.
âBecause I donât want anything to happen to you.â
âWhy would anything happen to me?â
âBecause⊠heâs⊠itâs Aegon.â He stressed, as if his brotherâs existence was enough explanation.
âYes, and heâs an absolute cock.â
Aemondâs eyes widened, not expecting the vulgar word to leave her lips. Helaena giggled and leaned into the girl at her side. His shoulders slumped and he allowed himself to laugh, amazed yet not surprised at her ability to evade him of his worries.Â
~~
A body crashed into her as she turned the corner, almost knocking her off balance, but arms that quickly wrapped around her waist stopped her from falling to the floor.Â
She recognized the boy immediately.Â
âAemond.â She greeted breathlessly with a smile. He pulled away from her instantly, taking a step back to create space between them, his head bowed downwards, avoiding her gaze.Â
But she saw the tear streaks through the stains of ash on his cheeks. Her smile fell and she stepped towards him, her hands gently lifting his chin, though he vehemently refused and harshly pulled himself away from her.Â
âWhat happened?â She asked, trying to keep the hurt from her voice at his avoidance, something she had never experienced from him.
âNothing.â
âAemond.â She admonished gently. She hated when he acted like this, so unlike the kind boy she knew.Â
He kept his head down and she sighed heavily, crossing her arms over her chest.Â
âI wonât leave you alone until you tell me what happened.âÂ
Aemond huffed and side stepped around her to continue on his way to lock himself in his chambers and wallow, but she was too quick. She grabbed his hand to stop him and pulled him back towards her.Â
He spoke her name, the groaned pronunciation indicating he wasnât in the mood.Â
âI just want to go to my chambers.â
âFine. We can go together.â She said simply and linked her arm through his as they began to walk.
Aemond let out a long breath, his annoyance flaring for a second, but the moment he looked over at her it faded away into nothing. He brought his arm that was linked with hers closer to his chest, as if needing her touch to soothe his nerves.Â
He thought he wanted to be alone. After his mother had brushed off his tears and scolded him yet again for venturing through the dragon pit, he just wanted to wallow by himself, but with her arm in his, her steady presence at his side, he found he wanted nothing but to be with her.
Once they made it to his chambers, he reluctantly let go of her and practically slumped his way to sit on his bed, his head bowed down to his feet, his brother and nephews' latest prank ruminating in his head, causing shame and anger to cascade over every inch of him.Â
âAre you going to tell me what happened now or am I going to have to force it out of you?â
Aemond huffed at her words and began to fidget with his fingers, focusing on the sand that lingered on his skin rather than meeting her inquisitive gaze.Â
She rolled her eyes and moved to sit next to him on the bed, brushing the sand from his hair.Â
âWere you in the dragon pit again?â
He nodded wordlessly and she felt something inside her clench. She would never understand the hole in Aemondâs heart, how his lack of a dragon made him feel so worthless.Â
âThey said they found a dragon for me.â He mumbled, causing her to look over at him with concern, her stomach sinking at the hurt she heard in his voice, knowing his dreams hadnât come true that afternoon.Â
She knew it could only be a cruel prank at his expense.Â
âThey gave me a pig.â
Her shoulders slumped, her hand reaching out to grab his, intertwining their fingers with an ease as though she had done it a million times before. She had only held his hand a few times and it made Aemond blush bright red every time, even now as he wallowed.Â
âIâm sorry. They shouldnât be so cruel to you.â
âTheyâre right. Itâs pathetic, a Targaryen without a dragon.â
âAemond-â
âMaybe Iâm not worthy and Iâll never get a dragon, maybe thatâs why my egg never hatched. I donât deserve it.â
âStop it.â She spoke sternly, gripping onto both his hands in an effort to calm him down from his ranting. âYou are every bit as good as any one of them, dragon or no dragon.â
Aemond sighed shakily and moved his gaze back down to his shoes, feeling as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.Â
âWhat if I never find one?â He asked quietly, as if afraid to speak the possibility out into existence.Â
âYou will. I know you will.â She assured him, though it did little to release him from his sadness. âThere are plenty of Targaryens that didnât claim dragons until later in life.â
Aemond gave her a plain look, to which she just smirked. Serves him right for teaching her about his family history.Â
âAemond, weâre young, we still have so much life to live. Itâs not over because you donât have a dragon yet. You have so much time to find what youâve always wanted.â
The breath that escaped his lips left him feeling lighter, his hand finally gripping hers back, sending a bashful smile her way, hoping it was enough to convey how grateful he was for her.Â
He didnât think he could ever find the words to tell her.Â
âYouâd be with me, wonât you? For my first ride?â
âYou would want me there?â
âOf course I would.âÂ
She smiled and he was powerless but to return his own. âThen Iâll be there.â
~~
Aemondâs glare was steady on his face, his eyes locked onto the Strong bastard that twirled her around.Â
How dare he ask her to dance, how dare he touch her, how dare he make her smile.
His disdain for his nephews was clear, they certainly didnât give him much reason to be cordial, but this was the last straw. Seeing Jacaerysâ hands on her made his blood boil.Â
Those damned nephews of his had already stolen her away from his side that afternoon. He could only watch helplessly as she played around with the bastards and spoke politely to his half sister Rhaenyra.Â
He almost resented how sweet his friend was. He loved her kind heart, he just hated when it extended to his elder half sister and her sons who he despised.Â
He hated when Jacaerys and Lucerys stole her away from his side. It was happening more and more as they became closer. He felt like he was losing her, the more times she spent breaking her fast with his eldest sister and her brood, the more he dreaded every moment away from her.Â
She was his only friend, the only one he felt truly understood him, or at least made the effort to. Losing her would mean losing the only shred of happiness heâd managed to find for himself.Â
He averted his gaze from Jace and the Ixtal girl, the sight of both their bright smiles becoming too painful.
âThey seem to get along well.â His father mused, prompting Aemond to torturously follow his gaze to the pair yet again.Â
His heart began to race at the insinuation, at the knowing look in his fatherâs twinkling eyes.Â
âYes, he seems to be quite taken with her.â Rhaenyra noted with a loving smile.Â
âTheyâd make a fine match.â His mother added. Aemond looked to his mother, betrayal in his gaze. His mother knew how much his friend meant to him, she knew someone so precious shouldnât be shackled to a bastard.Â
He refused to hear another word. His chair screeched loudly against the floor as he abruptly stood and made his way out of the room as if there were no air left for him to breathe. They couldnât take her away from him, they couldnât give her to that bastard.Â
He raced to his chambers, hoping he was quick enough that no passing guards could see the tears forming in his eyes.Â
By the next day, he found himself in the gardens, his eyes locked onto the open book in his lap as he read and re-read the same sentence over and over, his racing mind not allowing him to focus on the words in front of him.Â
The dread he had been feeling since the night before had not dissipated in the slightest.
âAemond!âÂ
His heart leapt within his chest at the sound of her voice. His hopeful eyes looked around the garden before landing on her and a feeling of lead settled within him, bringing him right back down to his dour mood as he noticed Jace and Lucerys beside her.Â
She motioned for him to join but he just shook his head softly and moved his gaze back down to his book.Â
He let out a long breath, trying his hardest to ignore the bitterness that grew in his heart, one that was all too familiar from before he met her. He startled slightly as a body slumped next to him. He looked up and his eyes widened slightly at the sight of her looking at him questioningly.
âWhy are you sulking?â
âIâm not sulking.â
She breathed deeply, as if disappointed by his obvious lie. âWhy didnât you join us?â
He shrugged, he couldnât very well tell her the truth about how he despised his nephews and seeing her with them was like a dagger to the heart, how he feared losing her, his greatest friend.Â
âI didnât want to intrude.â He spoke softly.Â
Her eyes narrowed at his words, her gaze moving to the two Velaryon boys who were talking quietly amongst each other, their curious eyes occasionally drifting to her and Aemond.Â
She knew there was tension among them, the way they seemed to side with Aegon and play along in the cruel pranks he would play on Aemond always made her stomach twist. She suddenly felt guilty that she had never considered how it would make Aemond feel to be forced in their vicinity after how they treated him.Â
She turned to her friend and shuffled closer to him.Â
âYou could never intrude.â
Aemond looked over at her, but quickly averted his gaze, finding it just too much to look in her eyes while she sat so close to him.Â
âYou donât have to stay with me. If you want to be with them, I wonât stop you.â He spoke quietly. The last thing he wanted was to make her feel smothered by him.Â
âIâd rather be with you.â
Her answer left him using all of his willpower to keep himself from marching directly to his father and demanding a betrothal this instant.Â
She chose him.Â
No one had ever chosen him.
~~
She was bored out of her mind. With Aemond and Helaena gone to Driftmark for Lady Laenaâs funeral, she was left without her closest confidants, leaving her little to do in their absence. She wished sheâd been granted leave to attend the funeral with them, but her father had never met Laena and had been tasked with extra duties while the King was gone, leaving her to stew in her loneliness.
She was curled up on the settee by her bed, her sketchbook in her lap as she scrawled out an attempt at drawing Dreamfyre, to horrible failure.Â
A soft knock on her door made her lift her head and she sat up straighter when her father entered. The look on his face made her stomach twist, dread falling upon her like a crashing wave.Â
She got to her feet quickly, feeling unsteady on her now weak legs.
âDarling, there was an⊠incident on Driftmark.â
She swallowed the lump in her throat, her heart racing. âWhat happened?â
âI wasnât privy to all the details but all I know is that Aemond has been injured.âÂ
The breath was knocked out of her and at the first sign of her face crumbling into despair, her father crossed the room and held her tightly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head as the first sob broke free.Â
âIs he alright?â
Her father let out a long breath at her hiccuped words, holding her tightly. He knew his daughter had certain affections for the young boy, but hearing her now made him realize just how deeply she cared for him.Â
âThe Maesters say he has lost an eye.âÂ
A shuddering breath escaped her and she suddenly felt faint. She had no idea how, what could have unfolded, who would dare to do something so barbaric to him.Â
The next days were spent in agony. She barely left her chambers. Every time her father came to check in on her, he found her sitting by her window, her gaze locked onto the horizon, waiting eagerly for the Targaryen familyâs arrival.Â
On the third day of her lonely torment, she finally spotted it. Dragons on the horizon. She was on her feet in a second and racing down to the courtyard. She was out of breath and disheveled by the time she made it, but her pace only quickened when she saw Helaena with her mother.Â
She called out to her friend and Helaena let out a breath of relief when she saw her, her arms opening for her as she approached.Â
Helaena didnât let many touch her, but she was one of the lucky few she allowed.Â
âAre you alright? Whereâs Aemond? Will he be ok?â She fired off questions, not even able to get a breath out through her frantic words.Â
âItâs alright, my Darling. Aemond will be fine.â Alicent consoled her, placing her arm around the shaking girlâs shoulders.
âWhere is he?â
âHeâs been taken to the Maesterâs solar. Heâll have to spend some time there while he heals.âÂ
âWhat happened?â She asked breathlessly.
âWhat I told him.â Helaena interjected calmly. âHe gained a dragon, but he had to close an eye.âÂ
She looked at Helaena with shock. âHe⊠he claimed a dragon?â
She couldnât make sense of the despair, relief and joy she had felt all at once. Knowing Aemond and his endless plight to gain a dragon, she knew he would see it a worthy trade, but the thought of him injured, permanently maimed, made her want to crumble to the ground below her.Â
After bidding goodbye to Alicent and Helaena, she made her way to the Maesterâs wing of the Keep. She was denied entry, but she was determined to not let it stop her. Each day, at the crack of dawn, sheâd drag herself out of bed and, before even breaking her fast, would make the trek to the Maesterâs wing and ask to see Aemond.
She was refused each and every day, but it did little to deter her. She kept trying.Â
It had been weeks since she had seen Aemond. Her heart was aching without the presence of her best friend, without the boy that made her smile like no other could.Â
On the fifth day of the third week, as she made the familiar walk to his door, the guard stopped her, as usual, though his words were different.
âThe Prince does not wish for any visitors.âÂ
She frowned. It always used to be the order of the Maesters or Alicent, claiming her son needed his rest, but now it was Aemond himself refusing her.Â
She couldnât pinpoint it exactly, but she knew she had felt her heart crack in a way she had never felt before.Â
She walked away from the door with her head bowed in defeat.
The hurt she felt mirrored Aemondâs own. Refusing her made him ache, but the thought of her seeing him as he was and looking at him with disgust was unfathomable and he would delay that inevitable despair as long as he could.Â
He sulked in his bed, the dour expression on his face one that had been constant for weeks.Â
His mother was by his bedside as she had been for weeks. He couldnât stand to see her wince or her teary eyes everytime she looked at his ghastly scar.Â
She had been trying, in no subtle terms, to get him out of the room, even going as far to bring up his friend, the one he longed to see yet dreaded ever seeing the same look on his motherâs face on hers.Â
âItâs been a few weeks. Sheâs been worrying herself sick.â His mother told him, making his already weak heart more fragile.Â
He stayed silent, his frown deepening in despair.Â
âAegon and Helaena will be heading out tomorrow to Ixtal. You should take Vhagar and join them.â
Aemond shifted uncomfortably. He knew his friend was leaving tomorrow, to visit home for her motherâs name day. They had all been invited, but with his fatherâs fading health and his motherâs refusal to ride on dragonback, it left just Aegon and Helaena to join the festivities.Â
âAemond.â His mother prompted again, the disappointment in her voice clear.Â
âI donât want to go.â He mumbled, one of the few sentences heâd managed over the past few weeks.Â
His mother sighed in defeat and didnât bring it up again for the rest of the night, leaving him to his solitude as he preferred.Â
The next morning, Aemond lay in bed, the wound over his eye itching gratingly. He longed to claw at the wicked scar, to scream in anger, to enact his vengeance on that Strong bastard. The fury festered in him like the open wound on his face, red and flaming.Â
The soft sound of his door opening and closing made him stir, assuming it was his mother yet again. As he lazily turned his head, dread settled in his stomach, his remaining eye widening in horror at the sight of her, the one he longed for yet resisted.Â
She froze in her place at the door, her jaw falling slack, a shaking hand covering her mouth as a hitched breath escaped her at the sight of him.Â
Aemondâs face twisted in agony. This was exactly what he wished to avoid.Â
âWhat are you doing here?â He asked angrily, tears forming in his remaining eye.Â
âI just wanted- I wanted⊠weâre leaving soon.âÂ
It was faint but he heard it. Fear. The stuttering of her words, the quiet, almost docile way she spoke that was so unlike her was like a hatchet to his heart. The look on her face was even worse. She could barely make eye contact with him.
âGet out.â He spoke lowly through gritted teeth.
âAemond, I-â
âGet out! I donât want you here!â He screamed at her, tears steadily falling down his cheeks.Â
Her own tears began to fall, her face twisting with agony. He hated it. He didnât want her pity, he didnât want to see the disgust on her face that everyone would face him with for the rest of his life.Â
âLeave me alone! I never want to see you again!âÂ
She let out a sob and turned on her heel, leaving the room with haste.Â
Aemond slumped back in bed, placing his hands over his face, ignoring the way it made his eye ache, and he cried for what he had lost.Â
Not just his eye, but his love, his happiness. His everything.Â
~~
She stood on the balcony of the banquet hall, breathing in the fresh ocean air. She missed home. She had thought of this moment for weeks, had been eager and excited to finally visit, yet now that she was there, it was bittersweet.Â
The sound of the waves werenât as peaceful as she remembered. The food she ate wasnât as delicious as she remembered. The music and the dancing wasnât as exciting as she remembered.Â
âDarling?â
She turned to see her mother approaching, concern written across her face as she moved to stand next to her daughter, her arm crossing over her shoulders, bringing her in close to her side.Â
âAre you alright? I thought Iâd see you dancing all night.â
âIâm fine.â
The Lady of Ixtal looked to her once vibrant daughter worriedly. She was far from the girl that had left all those months ago. From all the letters she had sent, it seemed her daughter was having the time of her life in Kingâs Landing. The girl she saw now wasnât the one who had gleaned nothing but happiness.
âWas it not what you expected?â
She stiffened, the need to defend her friends and her new found home rising. âNo, itâs- Kingâs Landing is lovely.â
Her mother sighed. She had gotten a short re-telling of the last few weeks in the Capitol from her husband and she was starting to put the pieces together.Â
âI couldnât help but notice your friend isnât here.âÂ
She looked up at her mother, her wide doe-like eyes giving everything away.Â
âAemond?â
She felt her cheeks heat and she turned her attention back to the view before her, focusing on the waves of the ocean, mirroring her breathing with each crashing wave.Â
âHeâs not my friend anymore.â She spoke quietly through the lump that grew in her throat.Â
âFrom what Iâve heard, it sounds as though he is going through an awful time, something no one, especially someone so young, should ever have to endure. People donât exactly act rationally when they are hurt. It is easy to speak things that are untrue in that state.â
She stayed silent, taking in her motherâs words thoughtfully. It was easy enough to explain, but it didnât lessen the hurt she felt.Â
âYou can stay here if you wish. The Gods know I would love to keep you in my arms, but I donât think that is truly what you want.â
She let out a shaking breath, her mind a mess as she thought of her life in Kingâs Landing, of what sheâd be leaving behind. But, if Aemond was being truthful and he didnât want to see her or be her friend anymore, what would her life be like there?
âI donât know what to do.â
âYouâll figure it out.â Her mother assured her. âOr else weâll have a dragon landing on our shores demanding you come back.â
The smile on her motherâs face made the hurt inside her melt away slightly. Her conviction that Aemond would forgive her for her intrusion, that he would bring her back into his life and his arms made her hopeful.Â
Her mother was never wrong and she prayed she wouldnât start now.Â
~~
She clutched onto Helaenaâs waist as they flew on Dreamfyre back to Kingâs Landing. No matter how thrilling it was to ride a dragon, no matter that she felt as light as a feather, that she could touch the clouds and feel as though she was in a magical, untouchable realm, it felt wrong.Â
Her first ride shouldnât have belonged to Helaena, it shouldnât have been with Dreamfyre. It wasnât what she promised.Â
As they dismounted, Helaenaâs hand held hers and stayed, holding tightly as they made their way from the dragonpit to the Keep, as if knowing her friend needed the comfort.Â
As they parted, Helaena promised sheâd spend the day with her tomorrow, knowing she needed the distraction from Aemond.
She smiled, though it wasnât as bright as usual, and with a wave, they parted. She stepped into her chambers and sighed heavily, mourning what her time in Kingâs Landing would hold.Â
She moved to her bed, content to hide under the covers for the rest of the day, but she stopped, noticing a bundle of flowers on her desk. She frowned, she certainly hadnât put them there before she left.Â
She stepped closer, her fingers gently tracing along the soft petals. They were perfectly bloomed and freshly plucked, most likely just placed on her desk mere minutes before she arrived.Â
It suddenly struck her.Â
They were marigolds.Â
She remembered the flower Aemond had tucked behind her ear, the ones he would bring her on occasion simply because he knew she was fond of them.Â
Her heart began to race, her stomach flipping at the merest notion that it couldâve been from her best friend. She picked up the bundle, inhaling their fresh scent with a small smile.Â
She noticed the slip of parchment below them, the simple words in familiar handwriting brought tears to her eyes.Â
I am deeply, truly sorry.
I didnât mean a word of what I said
Please forgive me
- Your Aemond
Her breath hitched, her chest feeling tight with sorrow.Â
The words he had screamed at her that day hurt her deeply, yet the thought of not having Aemond by her side, not having him as her friend, was unfathomable.
She spent the remainder of the day in her chambers, picking sparsely at the food her father had sent to her, knowing she wanted her solitude. By the next morning, having thought of nothing but Aemond all night, she was determined to see the end of their rift.
She dressed quickly and stepped out of her chambers, determined to march her way straight to Aemond, but she was stopped by her guard.
âThe Prince has requested your presence in the gardens.âÂ
The crease in her brow that signaled her determination smoothed out, leaving nothing but hopeful nervousness as she quickly made her way through the halls of the Keep. She ignored the looks of disdain from the ladies of the court as she raced past them, ignoring the whispers of her undignified behavior.Â
They were the last things on her mind.
Her heart was racing within her chest as she approached the gardens. She walked the familiar path, one she had taken countless times, to get to their usual meeting spot. Her feet came to an abrupt stop as she turned the last corner and saw him sitting on their bench, the one they always congregated to over the months together.Â
Nervous butterflies fluttered within her as she approached him.Â
She called out to him softly, cursing herself for how her voice shook in hopeful anticipation.Â
Aemond turned to face her and she was shocked to see the eyepatch across his face, covering the angry looking wound she had seen that morning in his chambers.Â
Her heart ached at the sight of the red scar that peeked out from the patch. It looked painful and the reminder of what he had gone through, what his own nephew had inflicted on him made her want to cry.Â
He spoke her name in greeting, giving her a small, weak smile. He winced slightly, the pull of his cheeks causing his scar to flair with pain.Â
Her chest tightened at the sight of him. He seemed smaller, as if he sat hunched over, trying hard not to take up too much space in the world.Â
âIâm sorry.â She blurted out before he could speak. He looked up at her incredulously, his stomach twisting at the despair he saw on her face. âI shouldnât have just barged into your chambers. I knew you wanted privacy and I ignored your wishes and Iâm sorry. I never meant-â
Aemond spoke her name breathlessly, stopping her rambling apology. He had never seen her so frantic before, it was unnerving to him, nothing at all like the lively girl he was used to. And it was his fault.
âYou donât have to apologize.â He told her softly. He looked down at his hands that fidgeted in his lap, shame overcoming him as he thought back to that day, when he had yelled at her so callously. He had replayed that moment over and over again in his head for days and it was torturous each time.Â
He couldnât get the sight of her tears out of his head. To know he was the cause was his greatest shame.Â
âIâm sorry.â He spoke earnestly, looking her in the eyes intently, hoping she would believe him. âI never should have spoken to you that way. Iâm so sorry I made you cry. I never will again, I promise.âÂ
She let out a long breath, his words stirring something inside her she couldnât recognize.
He frowned deeply at her lack of reaction, shuffling over and patted the space next to him on the bench, motioning for her to take a seat beside him.Â
She moved slowly, hesitantly taking her seat next to him.Â
âIâve never seen you that angry before.â She spoke, her voice barely more than a whisper as she recalled that dreadful day.Â
Aemond sighed and bowed his head.Â
âIâŠâ He started but soon found he had no words, no excuses for how he had treated her. Nothing would ever make it ok, never to her. âI hated to see you look at me like that.â Was the only thing he could think to say.
âLike what?â
âLike you were horrified of me.â
âI was horrified.â She said and he felt his insides turn to stone, his throat tightening with emotion. âBut not of you. Never of you.â She added quickly, causing him to look over at her, his eye wide and shining with unshed tears.Â
âBut-â
âAemond, the thought of what happened to you, the thought of you in pain⊠it hurts me.âÂ
The vice around his heart lifted instantly. His mind was spinning with the insinuation of her words.
âYou⊠youâre not-â
She reached out, taking his hand in hers, causing words to fail him.
âI could never be afraid of you. I could never feel disgusted by you, I could never think any less of you, or whatever other horrible thing you think I feel for you now. No scar will change how I care for you.â
The weight that had been suffocating him for weeks now seemed to lift just the slightest, allowing him to feel as though he could finally take a breath.Â
He let out a shaking breath and tightened his hand in hers. She smiled softly and leaned in closer to his side, letting her head fall to his shoulder, letting him revel in her closeness.
He hated the stares he got from the ladies at court, he hated the winces, the horrified gasps as he passed them. He hated the worried looks he received, as if he was seconds away from collapsing like a weak mannered child.Â
But none of it mattered.Â
She still cared for him, she was still by his side, her hand in his.
Even the burning fury he held for his nephew seemed dim in the wake of the pure delight he felt in her presence.
âBut, if you ever raise your voice to me like that again I will smack you.âÂ
Her threat, that held no anger in the slightest, made him laugh and duck his head against hers as his body shook with each breath of laughter.Â
His first laugh since the incident.Â
From then, they were closer than ever. One was seldom seen without the other at their side.Â
The Ladies at court through the two of them were just about the most darling thing they had ever seen. Yet, not everyone was rooting for the threads of young love to flourish.Â
Alicent watched her son in the training yard with a frown. Her second son, so dutiful and so smart, was becoming distracted. Her eyes never strayed from him as he neglected his own lessons to play around with his friend, watching with a scowl as the two of them laughed together, as if there was no care in the world.
The sight of the young girl in the training yard was enough to leave her appalled, but her sonâs willingness to indulge in such unseemly behavior was worrying.Â
âWe cannot let this go any further.â Her father spoke from beside her.Â
âI canât very well tell him he cannot be her friend. It would devastate him.â
âLet them be friends, but make it clear that is all it will ever be. Aemond canât get any ideas about marrying this girl.â
Alicent chewed on her lower lip anxiously. The thought of tearing her son away from such happiness turned her stomach, but the thought of him marrying a girl so unpredictable was just as unfortunate.Â
âWould it really be so bad? We could gain leverage with her father.â
âIxtal is a neutral house. They have never taken a stand in any war, that wonât change now. We cannot risk Aemond allying with a house that could not give us leverage for Aegonâs claim.â Otto hissed angrily.Â
Alicent wrapped her arms around herself, her eyes falling back to her son, taking in the sight of his smile while she still could. She doubted it would be a common sight once he was forced away from the Island girl.Â
But they all had a duty to perform.
~~
Her arm was looped through his as he guided her past the dragon pit.Â
âWhere are we going?â She asked, looking over her shoulder at the structure that housed the mighty Targaryen dragons they had just passed.Â
âVhagar doesnât stay there. She doesnât fit.â Aemond explained, a slightly smug smirk crossing his features as he subtly boasted about his newly claimed dragon.
Her smile twitched slightly, her nerves suddenly overtaking her. Sheâd been hesitant when Aemond offered to introduce her to his mount, but the reminder of the great beastâs sheer size had the beginnings of fear creeping through her veins.Â
Noticing the subtle shift in her expression, Aemond tightened his grip on her arm.Â
âI would never put you in danger.â He assured her. âVhagar is bonded to me, she can feel what I feel for you and she would never hurt you.â
âIf I could hear that directly from Vhagar I might be able to breathe properly.âÂ
Aemond snickered and led her forward excitedly.Â
Soon, they arrived at the crest of the hill, Vhagarâs enormous form coming into view. A shuddering breath escaped her when she came face to face with the historic dragon that fought in wars long before her time.Â
She could barely comprehend such a beast of her size existed among them, that the sweet boy beside her commanded her or even willingly approached her.Â
âRelax.â Aemond told her softly, moving out of her hold so his hand could take hers, intertwining their fingers.Â
The pair of them stepped towards the sleeping giant. She watched, mystified, as Aemond spoke a few words of Valaryian, the dragon's eyes sleepily opening, her large head lifting towards them.Â
She felt her body freeze, the blood in her veins running cold as the mighty dragon looked past her rider, her curious gaze landing on her. A low rumble shook the ground, Vhagarâs protest to the stranger before her.Â
Aemond soothed his dragon, placing an affectionate hand on her snout as he spoke soft commands.Â
She doubted a few measly words would suddenly convince Vhagar that she wasnât a tasty snack, but she could only watch, her eyes widening as the dragon became disinterested by her presence, laying her head back down on the warm grass she had been slumbering on.Â
Aemond looked over his shoulder at her prone form several feet back and smiled, motioning her to come closer.Â
She shook her head adamantly, her feet frozen in place.Â
He spoke her name, holding his hand out to her.Â
She looked to his hand and then to his dragon and back again, contemplating the risk to her life.Â
âDo you trust me?â Aemond asked and her tense shoulders sagged. She had no reason to doubt her best friend. With one look in his eye, she knew he would never let any harm come to her.Â
She took slow steps forward, her fear not allowing her to move any quicker.Â
She reached out and took Aemondâs hand in hers as soon as she was close enough, holding on tightly.
âItâs alright.â He assured her.Â
He guided her hand toward Vhagar, watching the girl beside him closely, gaging every expression that crossed her face in a matter of seconds. From fear, to doubt, to disbelief and suddenly to awe.Â
A shaky laugh left her lips as her hand softly rested on the rough scales of Vhagarâs side. Pure delight was etched across her face as she pet the mighty beast as if she were nothing more than a house cat. Aemond saw how excited she got when one of the many stray cats that roamed Flea Bottom ventured their way into the Keep.Â
The excited smile she wore now as she pet his dragon was the same one he saw when she would cradle those strays.Â
The thought made him laugh and he leaned in close to her, letting his head rest against hers.Â
Seeing her now, fearless by his mountâs side, only confirmed what he already knew.Â
She was meant to be with dragons. Meant to be with him.Â
~~
I will hopefully have the next chapter out within the next couple of days! And yes, every chapter is going to be long, I have no control. Hope you liked it xx
#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x reader#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen fic#aemond targaryen fanfic#house of the dragon fic
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àŒ on the most fertile moon of the year, rafayel finally claims you as his true bride and the mother of his future heirs
⯠warnings; sorta sequel to her and the sea but can be read as a standalone, rafayel x fem!reader, established relationship, MONSTERFUCKING, switch!rafayel, switch!reader, rafayel's lemurian form, sex in a bathtub, reader is coded to be feminine (wears a nightgown), mentions of mermaid genitalia, petnames (my little conch shell, my bride, baby, my love, miss bodyguard), size kink, handjobs, mentions of food, breathplay, breeding, mentions of previous oviposition, dirty talk, praise and degradation, language, let me know if i missed anything
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đđđ đđđ.
Like how mashed kelp with prawn hearts were the perfect antidote to third degree burns, or a particularly nasty cold could be healed with sea turtle soup made from the bales found at the heart of Point Nemoâs trenches.Â
Another secret?Â
Male Lemuriansâspecifically those of the Sea God kinds like Rafayelâhad a special mating ritual.Â
You had no idea what you were expecting when your boyfriend called you over to his studio on a random Tuesday morning. As you had a day off from Hunter duties, you decided to drop by and visit, seeing no harm in meeting Rafayel after the innocent text he sent you.
Miss your face, Miss Bodyguard. Care to indulge me with your presence? I wanna show you something coolio lolÂ
You highly doubted the âlolâ at the end of his sentence meant anything innocent, but you had learned a long time ago to figuratively and literally go with the flow when it came to your mermaid boyfriend.
You kicked your bike to a stop by his gravel driveway, staring at the pearly domes of his studio slash home. His front door was left open and you let yourself in, trailing your eyes across the soaring, pristine white walls illuminated by the natural light coming in from Whitesand Bay.Â
âRaffie?â Your voice echoes along the empty hallways.
His huge French doors were left open, the salty sea breeze tugging right at your clothes and hair, bringing a chill into the otherwise sun-warmed room.Â
âIn here.âÂ
His voice floated from the bedroom and your suspicions flared, wondering what he was up to.Â
Ever since that night in the middle of the ocean when he claimed you in his Lemurian form, Rafayel was growing bolder with initiating you into the practices of his endangered people; from the unique seafood feasts he prepared for you down to the different books in a foreign language he loaned you, it seemed as if your boyfriend was eager to show you the full extent of his world and culture.Â
With an open heart and an even more curious mind, you padded to his bedroom where you found the entire space open and bright, the brilliant sunlight nearly burning your retinas. You had to squint and shade yourself from the sudden glare, spotting Rafayel waving at you from his huge bathtub in the middle of the room.Â
âMy little conch shell. There you are.âÂ
You padded over to him, smiling mischievously at the sight of his slick, and bare chest. The cool, crisp bath water lapped at throat, droplets of water clinging onto the tips of his lilac bangs.
âDid you call me over just to watch you splash around?â you tease, sitting on the bench beside the tub, dipping your fingers into the cool water.
Rafayel snorted and grasped your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, the skin of his digits slightly pruned from his time spent inside the water.Â
âHardly. I wanted to ask you something⊠eh, more like, show you something.â
You heard a tremble of uncertainty in his tone which he tried to mask with his usual boyish bravado. Months of dating the elusive Lemurian artist gave you a deeper understanding of his personality, and you could tell behind the breezy invitation to his home, there was a deeper meaning and reason behind his need to have you here.
As if answering your silent, roaring questions, Rafayel turned his indigo gaze to the bright sky opening before the bedroomâs sunroof, the panels pushed to the sides to let in the afternoon heat.Â
âDo you know what day it is today?â Rafayel hummed, pressing his lips to the back of your hand. You had to scoot closer to avoid your arm from submerging in the tub, shaking your head with a teasing smile etched on your lips.
âTaco Tuesday?â you joked and he rolled his eyes. âIâm kidding!â you laughed and added breezily, âIâm pretty sure I didnât forget your birthday or any anniversaries. So, why is today so special?âÂ
Your boyfriend pointed at the bright sky, and you had to squint to follow the direction of his finger.Â
âDo you see the moon there? Looks like a thin piece of cheese?âÂ
Following his guidance, you noticed the pale circle in the sky; almost see-through like a wisp, close enough to touch the burning sun in the horizon.Â
âUh-huh.â
Rafayel snorted. âWell⊠today is a very special day for Lemurians because itâs the one time in the entire year when the moon and the sun will collide.â He gauged your reaction, the confusion on your face making him sigh deeply.
âUgh, humans. Okay, think of it this wayâdo you know what controls the tides of the sea?âÂ
A fairly easy question. âThe moon,â you retorted, furrowing your brow.
Rafayel nodded sagely, like a professor trying to prove a point. âOkay. And do you know what helps things like plants grow?âÂ
âThe⊠sun?â You werenât exactly sure where your lover was going with this, but you played along for his sake.
âGood,â he gets out of the tub and sits on the edge, and you were relieved to find him dressed in a pair of navy blue swimming shorts. Unable to tear your eyes off the water dripping down his muscular thighs, you coughed, feeling your face flush warmly as you mapped the shadows lengthening around the room; a sign of evening arriving.
âWhat does any of this have to do with the fact that you moved the tub from the living room to your bedroom?âÂ
Rafayel gently grasped your chin, lifting your face up to meet his sparkling, bright eyes.
âRemember that night when we made love on the cove in Whitesand Bay⊠when I asked if you were comfortable with me putting my babies in you?âÂ
You nodded, recalling the night like it was just yesterday. Though a week had passed since your last encounter together with him, you could still smell the sea breeze on your skin, feel the stretch of his mermaid cock almost tearing you apart inside out.
âWell, tonight is what we Lemurians dub the Fertile Moonâthe one time of the year where the sun and moon orbit the closest to one another, and their energies are in sync to increase the life force of the ocean and its inhabitants. Do you get what Iâm putting down, Miss Bodyguard?â
Your head was spinning, and youâre not sure if you can make out the innuendo behind his fragmented explanations.Â
âNo⊠I donât think so. Canât you just tell me point blank what it is you want from me?âÂ
You tried to scowl and sound demanding, but it came off as pouty and petulant instead.Â
He grinned, barely able to hide his chuckle when he turned those mirthful, indigo eyes towards you. âWhat I am saying, my little muse is that tonight is the one night where every Lemurian is encouraged to breed so that⊠conception and a pregnancy is a guaranteed success.â
The silence after his words rang like the aftermath of a blurted crass remark.Â
You blanched, eyes widening when he finally helped you put two and two together.
âWhoa, hold upâtonight is the night?â
Rafayelâs eyes twinkled, and he flickered them momentarily to your relatively flat belly.Â
âRemember those eggs I put inside of you? Well, tonightâs their night to shine. I mean, not literally. Youâre not going to glow inside out like a pregnant sea monkey. But, if we made love tonight, itâs a 95% success rate of my babies taking...â
He trailed off, letting you absorb this fact. You take in a deep breath, wondering if this day could get any weirder. Though it had been your idea for Rafayel to show you how mermaids bred in the first place, you couldn't help the feeling that you were biting off more than you could chew.Â
Absent-mindedly, you touched your stomach, almost as if you were trying to feel the smooth, oval deposits your boyfriend had gifted to you 7 nights ago. But, you could barely detect their outline or their presence, wondering how the biological aspect of everything would work.Â
âHey,â Rafayel touched your cheek, trying to get you to look at him. âAre you alright? Tell me whatâs on that pretty mind, lovely.â
âItâs just,â you struggled to speak, and had to take a few, deep breaths to keep calm. âIs this really happening? You really want me to get pregnant with your babies?âÂ
In response, his violet eyes softened, and Rafayel steps down from the tub, moving towards you and getting to one knee. He grasped your hands, bringing them in his damp ones and squeezed them reassuringly. âYou can always say ânoâ, my little muse. Iâm not forcing you to carry my eggs if you donât want to, though I do wish with every fiber of my being that you would. Nothing would make me happier than to know the only woman Iâve ever loved will be the one to carry my heirs and the future of Lemuria inside of her.â
When he said it that wayâŠ
The idea of saving an entire civilization appealed to your naturally altruistic nature, and you couldnât deny the allure of being the one person whom Rafayel trusted to go on this journey with. Besides, your lover would never let anything happen to youâhe would be there with you every step of the way to take care of you and the babies, just like he promised before. And you know he will keep his promises till the end of time.Â
You nodded. âAlright. The Fertile Moon. Half-Lemurian babies. Letâs do it.âÂ
Rafayel gently tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, his voice low and gentle.Â
âAre you sure? I mean, the choice to decline or accept is yours. I will be gentle, but tonight is one of the nights where Iâm afraid nature vs. politeness will not be in play, my little muse.â There was a flash of warning in his eyes. You swallowed hard.Â
âWhat do you mean by that?âÂ
Rafayelâs grip on your hands tighten, and he exhaled a sigh. âIt means I might get⊠rougher⊠and if you can bear it, I will make it the most pleasurable night of your life, sweetheart.â
You paused, considering his words. âWill you hurt me?âÂ
He shook his head instantly. âNever.â
âWill you bite me? Maim me?âÂ
Rafayel shot you a look of exasperation, shaking his head. âNo and no. Absolutely nothing will pierce you⊠well, not too much.â
The addendum stopped you short, and you gave him a cursory look. Rafayel ups the innocent act, gazing at you with his big, indigo eyes which tug on your heartstrings.Â
Eventually, youâre swayed by the look of pure hope in those wondrous orbs and you sigh.Â
âOkay. Fine. Iâll do it.â
Sealing the deal and taking him off guard, you lean forward, kissing him fully on his shapely lips. âLetâs make some half-mermaid babies tonight.âÂ
The chill of the night seeped into your bare skin, the skimpy nightgown you wore barely covering your shins and arms. You had to drive back home and change, returning to Rafayelâs home with your heart in your mouth.Â
A part of you considered the repercussions of such a dealâthe idea of carrying to term a human baby was already daunting, but now you had to factor in the baby being half-Lemurian into the mix.
The doors swung open, as if sensing you and admitting you within the heart of his space. Once drenched in sunshine and heat, Rafayelâs home was now saturated in shades of night, the windows kept open to let in the illumination of the moonâs rays seeping into the white walls and hardstone floors. You followed a trail of roses he left for you, right to the lip of his bedroom door. Heart thudding a mile a minute, you pressed your palms flat on the intricate wood and pushed it open.
Flickering candlelight danced across the walls, shadows growing with your approach towards the bathtub situated in the middle of the room like a crown jewel. Rafayel is nowhere to be seen, but you felt his presence in this space, watching over youâwaiting.Â
As per his instructions, you sat at the edge of the large tub, big enough to accommodate one human and one undecidedly non-human person. The warmth of the candles gave you enough courage to lift your head and take a steadying breath.
But, that breath stuttered out into a whispery gasp at the feeling of strong arms wrapping around you. Rafayelâs lips found refuge in the crook of your neck, kissing up and down the delicate column of your throat. His palms spanned around your waist, dragging up and down your sides, committing your outline to his memory.Â
âMy bride,â he muttered huskily. âYouâre here.âÂ
âMhm hmm,â your voice trembled, and he could feel the fear rocking you apart. âIâm here⊠Are you ready?â
Rafayel doesnât comment on the terror he hears in your tone, or how youâre shaking as if an earthquake is tearing you into two. Gently, he pressed a kiss to your temple, running his hands up and down your stomach in gentle, soothing swoops.
âRelax. Itâll be fine. Iâm here and I wonât ever let you go, my bride.â
He turned you around, and you were confronted by the sight of his bare chest peeking from past a pale, purple robe, gossamer thin and clinging onto his muscular torso and arms. A smirk plays on his lips when he realized you were gawking at him, your attention a boost to his ego.
âLike what you see, Miss Bodyguard?âÂ
Before you could reply, he slipped his fingers in between yours, tugging you closer to the bathtub. Rafayel unties his robe, letting it fall to the ground and you take it as your cue to remove your nightgown, as well.Â
Though getting naked in front of Rafayel was something you had done many, many times before, this is the first time you felt a spike of fear run up your spine. Your breathing came out in stuttering exhales, and you managed to slip the diaphanous material off your body, revealing your bare skin to his wandering eyes. The heat of his gaze was like a hot brand, and you could feel it tangibly caressing the expanse of your skin, imprinting your curves onto his artistic eye.Â
âYou look beautiful, my bride.âÂ
Rafayel gently guided you into the tub, and you shivered when your toes sank in the water, finding it pleasantly warmed. He got in after you, pulling you close to his chest, hooking his chin over your shoulder. The both of you stayed like this for a little while, holding each other close. The briny scent of the ocean floating in from the wide open sunroof above gave this moment a fairylandish feel, making you think you were in the middle of some fantastical dream.
You felt his lips right on your jugular, kissing over your pulse point and shivered.
âDonât be afraid,â his voice had taken on a deeper quality, rumbling against your chest. âI wonât hurt you. It will feel good, my bride.âÂ
Your eyes wandered to the sky, watching the moon burn at her brightest. Rafayel, too, took a moment to absorb the spectacular celestial sight shining from his window, his arms tightening around you.
Something about the romantic and sensual atmosphere finally got to you, and you turned around, straddling yourself on his lap. Your naked cunt bumped against his thigh, and you felt him shiver from the close proximity.Â
Tangling your fingers in his hair, you hummed, leaning forward, close enough for your lips to touch, but not fully. âRaffie⊠Iâm not afraid. As long as youâre here, Iâm not scared.â
That was his cue to give into his primal, oceanic urges. Hungrily, he claimed your lips, those large hands moving to your waist to drag you flush against his body.Â
His quicksilver tongue slipped into your mouth, exploring it slowly; his hands roaming across your body, caressing you with a touch full of desire and need.
âRafayelâŠâÂ
He broke the kiss, leaving a string of spit connecting your lower lip to his, hanging tenuously like a heart about to break.Â
Your lover darted his tongue out, lapping at your bottom lip, his teeth following suit to dig into the plush flesh. He repositioned you upon his lap, tangling his fingers in your hair to tilt your face to the side so he could slot his mouth closer to yours.
This kiss under the moonlight, sensual and sweet, stole a part of your soul and refused to give it back.Â
Perching you on his strong, muscular thigh, Rafayel dipped his head lower, dragging lazy kisses down your jaw, your collarbone, his warm mouth wrapping around your nipples. His tongue teased them, getting them hard. You squirmed in his lap, getting wetter at his every touch.Â
âFeels good, my bride?â He hummed, mouth still latched around your hard flesh and you whimpered, nodding.
Rafayel grinned at your responsiveness, hearing your whispery plea of his name passing your lips.Â
His mouth was better than goodâit was downright sinful and delicious. It felt like every sensation was amplified tonight, your body keyed up to receive his ministrations.Â
Please, you whispered into the dim night illuminated only by candles that bounced off the whiteness of his grin. Touch me more.
âAs you wish, my bride.âÂ
Rafayel paid special attention to your nipples, tweaking them, sucking on them, brushing his thumbs over the hard nubs. Your hips began to drag across the muscular plane of his thigh, rutting and twitching as you struggled to relieve the ache in between your legs.
âMore,â youâre desperate to get closer, to feel him deeper in your body; needing to satiate the lust his touches ignited deep inside of you.Â
Rafayel hummed, a grin tugging on the corners of his mouth as he tasted your desperation, your need to get off.Â
âMhm, I know,â he mumbled in between sloppy kisses raining down your neck, taking his time to taste your skin. âI know, baby. But, weâre going to take it slow tonight, yeah?âÂ
Rafayel would be the death of you. His duality would never cease to render you speechless; bratty, pouty boyfriend in one breath and then suddenly, a teasing force of nature determined to get under your skin and leave you begging.
Your whine graced his heated ears, and he chuckled.
Rafayel⊠no⊠stop teasing meâŠ
Already begging? Your lover raised his lips to the juncture of your neck, biting down softly to bring the blood up, leaving his mark there. That was quickâthought youâd hold up longer than that.Â
Your indignant sounds were masked by his mouth moving back to yours, kissing your protests away.
What was it you wanted to say, my little conch shell? He teased, trailing his fingers down your thighs, igniting goosebumps on your arms. Iâm a tease? Iâm not giving you what you want?Â
He adjusted himself in the tub, the water starting to run cool, sloshing over the edges to dampen the surrounding floor. He lifted you higher into his lap, running his warmed, slightly chapped lips down to your sternum, mapping his way down to the part of you which needed him the most.
You know, Iâve never done this with anyone⊠Rafayel whispered against your flushed skin, nudging you up further until your pelvis bumped his jaw. Youâre always the first one I try new things with⊠his fingertips glide across your thighs, gently nudging them apart.
You make me feel humanâmake me feel alive. His words are lost in your skin as he muffled them with his kisses, leaving a trail of heat in between your thighs, leading right to your pulsing core. Rafayel canât help but chuckle at the sight of your little, twitchy clit, waiting for his tongue or mouth to give her some attention.Â
His touches are languid, caressing your knees, your shins and thighs. He moved his fingers to where you needed him the most, focusing his touch on your throbbing clit, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the slick bundle of nerves which seemed to pulse his name with every touch.
âRafayel,â your moans saturated the air, a blessing to his ears.
âMhm⊠yes, my little conch shell? Feels good, doesnât it?â His indigo eyes looked at you with pure hunger like a deadly current threatening to pull you under.Â
Yes, your breathy whimpers boosted his ego, drawing a smirk on his handsome face. The heat that he sets off in your body when he placed his mouth right on your inner thigh was nothing compared to the smoldering flame about to engulf you when he sucked a hickey onto your soft flesh.Â
âI can smell youâyouâre practically drenched,â Rafayel slurred in between nipping kisses to your thighs, determined to leave his mark wherever he went. I just want to⊠fuck⊠he trailed off.
âWhat?âÂ
Your breathless question made him laugh.
In answer to your winded curiosity, he brought his mouth closer, right to the apex of your thighs and exhaled, warm breath fanning across your folds.
âI just want to eat you whole.âÂ
Warmth engulfed your cunt the second he murmured those seductive words, and your head was thrown back, your moan rebounding across the room.Â
You were so worked up, it was insane how you havenât exploded yet. The taste of you saturated his tongue, dripping right onto his chin and Rafayel lapped you up like you were the water of life, drinking you down in desperate gulps.Â
Those pretty indigo eyes hazed over, his long lashes obscuring his gaze into half-mast as he worked your pussy over with his mouth. Using a slender finger, Rafayel teased past the tight muscles of your entrance, sinking down to his knuckle, curling it forward in a come hither motion as your hips stuttered and bucked.
Rafayel⊠oh, fuckâŠ
He grinned at the sound of your trembling moans, and stretched your perfect cunt around a second finger, applying pressure to your golden spots, determined to make you see stars.Â
Without warning, you felt the girth of his thigh transforming underneath you, growing slicker, harder. Scale-like. The texture of his wrists you were grasping tightly became harder, the skin toughening and lengthening.Â
Water sloshed noisily down the rim of the tub, and from the corner of your eye, you caught the flick of an iridescent tail in mid-air.
Rafayel continued to eat you out, oblivious to your wide eyes and hitched breathing, needing to feel you shatter around his fingers. Latching his lips right to your nub, he traced his name right into your sensitive clit, enjoying how your thighs were tensing and trembling, struggling to hold yourself upright.Â
One large palm guided you to ride his tongue, grasping your hip and helping you glide yourself back and forth over the flat of his pink muscle.Â
Your fingers curled over the edge of the wide tub, one hand tangling in his hair to hold him closer.Â
Fuck, so good, your moans goad him on. So good, Rafayel. More, please⊠moreâŠ
He gave it to you, lapping at your swollen folds, feeling your juices stain his mouth, drip down his jaw.Â
The needy twitch of your hips and the tremble in your moans spurred him on to double his speed and precision, racing to get you right to the edge. From the depths of the deep tub, you felt something hard stirring against your thigh, the thick, scaly ridge a familiar rasp as it grazed against your soft skin.Â
âIâm close,â your quivering moan made his blood thump harder in his veins. âSo closeâŠâÂ
Your orgasm washed over you like a hot tide, nearly making you buckle and lose your footing. Luckily, Rafayel hurried to clasp his larger, merman hands around your waist, holding you upright and slowly easing you down onto his lap. Your quivering moans go straight to his cock, and he was already hard and ready when you sank into his embrace, the tip of his monster girth poking your lower belly.
Without a second thought, you reached for his length, stroking his Lemurian cock with a loose grip, feeling his entire body constrict under your touch.Â
Rafayel expelled a soft groan, the back of his head thumping against the smooth marble of the bathtubâs edge. Scaly and with bumps that felt heavenly between your gummy walls, his cock was a wonder of nature that always left you speechless. Hooded indigo eyes appraised you, and his tongue briefly darted out to touch the corner of his mouth.
âYouâre becoming more bold and audacious day by day.âÂ
Drunk from your orgasm, you managed to give him a grin. âWhat did you say againâthe most pleasurable evening Iâve ever had?âÂ
Arching a brow, Rafayel snorted. âSo, jacking me off is your idea of a pleasurable evening?âÂ
Your lips touched his ear, warm breath fanning across his skin. âWhat if I said yes?âÂ
Putty in your hands and susceptible to your every will, Rafayel had no choice but to let you have your way with him. His hips ticked, pushing his cock further up your weak grip, aching to earn more friction.
âI would say you got me there,â his voice lowered into a husky whisper. âYouâre a handful, you know that?âÂ
âBut, Iâm all yours to handle.âÂ
His smooth and low chuckle sparked a shiver up your spine, that hazy grin and heavy lidded eyes making your stomach flip.
âMhm, that you are, sweetheart.âÂ
The water rippled from the motions of his hips undulating to match your strokes, a pinch appearing on his brow. Despite having a fear of the water, you felt safe in Rafayelâs arms, letting him hold you close as you continue to pleasure him.Â
âDo you want toââ
âI think we shouldââ
He paused, and you giggled at both your eagerness; the simultaneous need. Rafayelâs eyes twinkled with mischief, reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear.Â
Without another word, your lover guided you onto his lap, gently pushing your hand away from his cock and gingerly lifting your hips.Â
It started out slow first, with the head of his Lemurian cock slowly breaching you, pushing past the trembling muscle of your spasming cunt. Rafayel was conscious of not slamming into you, knowing you needed time to get used to the sensation of his longer length stretching you out.Â
The sensation of his bulbous head sinking through your walls, and the feel of every ridge and bump hitting your swollen spots was enough to draw full body shivers from you.Â
âFuck,â Rafayel shivered, his eyes darkening.Â
Your breath tumbled out in a shaky exhale.
Palms flat on his chest, you struggled to sink down on him, the water adding more lubrication to help ease you over his impossibly huge cock. The stretch made sweat bead across your brow and you gasped, rocking your hips forward, trying to take all of him in one go.Â
You okay? His mouth on your pulse point soothed you somewhat.Â
Nodding, you felt the bite of pain, your muscles protesting.
Rafayel took this chance to play with your nipples, tweaking and tugging on them; when that wasnât enough, he decided to use his tongue and teeth to get them wet and hard, leaving your body aching for more. His thumb trailed to your clit, rubbing on it as he continued to suckle on your tits, giving them both his undivided attention.Â
Your pussy twitched around him and he murmured, let go for me, sweetheart.
The effort it took for you to calm yourself down enough to take him is tremendous, and Rafayel felt a burst of love and adoration for how much you were trying to please him. The hunger you showed to be perfectly good for him incited his need to spoil you even more, and he quickens the circles on your clit, trying to loosen you up so he could bottom out.
Once you were slick enough, Rafayel didn't waste anymore time, guiding you down on the last few inches, kissing you full on the mouth to quell your trembling moans.
âFuck.â Your cries were intoxicating, driving him mad with desire when he finally sank down to the hilt, a bit of drool dripping from your parted lips.Â
Rafayel didnât hesitate to lap at it, dragging his tongue from your jaw to your chin, tasting the salt of your skin. The moon bathed your skin with pale, silky light, and the artist swore if he wasnât trying to put his babies in you, he wouldâve taken this moment to paint you from scratch.Â
A tick of your hips. Your walls trembled around him.Â
Guttural groans softened by his lips pressed to your neck reverberated against your skin.
Holy shit, his curses sink past your flesh. Shit, shitâyou feel like heaven.Â
Please, move. Your begging elicited a hoarse chuckle from the Lemurian.
As you wish, my bride.
Slow, tantric strokes. Rafayelâs grip on your hips was firm and solid. He kept a steady pace, fucking up into you, the tips of his tail flicking past the tub's rim, catching your eye with its iridescent brilliance.Â
Every stroke of his ridged cock rubbing against your gummy walls felt like a pulsing nirvana. Throbbing, hot, needy. You were completely Rafayelâsâyou belonged fully to the Sea God of your dreams.
Mhm, yeah, he continued to fuck into that same spot, coaxing you with You like that? fuck you like that. Mhm yeah. Uh-huhâgood girl.Â
The tips of his lilac bangs tickled your neck as he sucked more love bites into your neck, hellbent on marking you up as his own.Â
Effortlessly, he turned you in his embrace, encouraging you to press your hands on the bathtubâs edge. This newfound position placed more pressure on your G spot, the tip of his cock nudging that same spot over and over again.
Behind you, Rafayel made it a sport to leave as many hickeys as he could on your nape, your shoulders. The rough scales of his fingertips gripped the plush flesh of your ass, squeezing heartily.
You look so good taking me like this. His rough praise drew goosebumps across your entire body.Â
You tipped your head back, dizzy with lust, mouth parting wide open.Â
In the dimness of the candlelight, Rafayelâs lilac eyes glimmered like amethysts, his hair shining with an ethereal gleam.Â
âMy love, do you trust me?â His heated question pressed into the back of your neck pricked your awareness. The stretch and the bite of pain which mingled with pleasure fucked with your mind, drawing you right to the edge where nothing in the world existed beyond you being impaled on his cock.
âMhm,â your replying moan drew a trembling laugh from him.Â
I have something which will make it all feel better⊠but only if you trust me.Â
Rafayel tangled your hair in his fingers, and in this instance, you wouldâve done anything for him.Â
You nodded.
The pleasure he bestowed on your wrecked body, the gentle way he was asking if he could make you feel even more good, did not prepare you for what he did next.Â
One second, your head was tilted back against his chest, and the next, you were plunged face first into the tub water. Your eyes opened wide, your entire body tensing with fear. Eyes burning, you opened your mouth to scream when he yanked you back to the surface, sputtering and crying out his name.Â
âShit.â Rafayelâs movements doubled in speed, fucking up into you like he didnât respect you one bit. You were panting, gripping the edge of the tub with white knuckles.
âFuck,â was the only word you could manage to blurt out, the tension in your lower belly tightening.
If it was possible, the sensation of his cock splitting you apart felt even more delirious. Dizzyingly so.Â
Your eyes crossed, mouth hanging open, the slick pistoning of his cock in and out of your willing pussy making every nerve ending in your body burst into unending flames.
Raffie⊠fuck⊠do it again.
You were pleading for him to hurt you, the taboo nature of such devious desires making your blood pump harder.Â
There was no need to tell him twice.
Rafayel grasped the base of your head, and your world disappeared into the bottom of the tub, your body bucking wildly, fighting for oxygen as his cock continued to bulldoze into you.Â
He brought you up, and you gasped, coughing loudly.Â
Fuck, your voice was gravelly from swallowing some water. Fuck, that was so hot.Â
You werenât the only one who thought so.Â
Shit, your lover groaned. Iâm close, baby.Â
Lavishing you with praise for being so good, Rafayel held you close to his chest, your back bowing to take all of him in.Â
Youâre amazing, love. My bride, my Queen. Youâre going to be the best mother. The best mate. I love you. I love you so much.Â
The moonlight scattered across the rippling water, reminding you of that time when he had you right on the seabed and you watched the light breaking above the surface.Â
Come for me, my love. His grunts touched the sensitive shell of your ear. Come for me and make me feel goodâare you going to be good for me?
Yes, yes. You chant. Yes, I will, Raffie.Â
Yes, my bride. Fuckâdoing so good. Yeah, yeah. Come, come. Fucking make a mess on me.Â
You could never deny Rafayel what he wanted. At his command, you spilled all over him, your muscles tightening, threatening to spit him out of your trembling heat.Â
So good, so good for me. Coaxing you through your orgasm, he talked you through it, there for every tremble, every quiver and moan.Â
Your pleasure washed over him in waves, and he couldnât hold back the tide, not when going over and spilling inside of you, claiming you as his, is what he has always wanted since the dawn of time.Â
Strings of heat splattered inside of you, filling you to the brim till you thought you could taste him in the back of your throat.Â
Rafayel continued to pump his hips, desperately trying to make sure not a single drop goes to waste.
When the comedown hits, it slammed into you hard. The exhaustion mingled with the fatigue of the adrenaline ebbing out of your veins.Â
You slumped back into his arms, and Rafayel was careful to slowly ease you off his half-hard cock, holding you close in his embrace. The possessiveness that dripped from his fingertips as they stroked through your hair, the heat of his body, warmed you up in the already cool water.Â
The chill permeated through you, though you barely felt it, not when Rafayel was by your side.
A soft kiss was placed on your jaw.
âWas it good?âÂ
You nodded, hazy and dopey from the rush of hormones. âBeyond perfection.â
Rafayel chuckled at the dopey happiness alighting in your eyes, tightening his grip around your waist, nuzzling his face into your damp neck. Now that his primal instincts were cooling off, he could give your wrecked body the attention it deserved.Â
The warmth of his skin seeped into yours. Hard scales turned back to soft flesh, his huge tail transforming into a pair of legs tightening around your midsection, determined to hold you fast to his chest. Languishing in the cool water, you glanced up at the moon, noting a pair of wispy clouds drifting past her luminous facade, reminding you of a couple dancing past a huge celestial spotlight.
Rafayel rubbed your belly with one hand, and you didnât have to ask him what was on his mind to know his raging thoughts.
Placing your hand upon his, you smile at him over your shoulder. The fall of his lilac hair, the softness in his eyes. It made your heart melt.
âAre you nervous?âÂ
Your question, seemingly innocent, held a multitude of layers which he could unravel easily enough after having known you for close to a millenia.Â
âOf the babies? No,â he answered truthfully. âBut, of how will things change between us? Yeah, Iâm terrified.â
You readjusted yourself on his lap, facing him, bringing your arms to wrap around his neck. âAre you afraid Iâm gonna leave you once I find out your babies are bulging inside of me?â you tease.
Rafayelâs pout was endearing, and you laughed, pinching his cheek. âRaffie⊠youâre so silly.â
He huffed, his palms drifting to clasp around your hips, pulling you flush to his chest. âAm I so silly or just worried you might still think Iâm a freak?â
Rolling your eyes, you shake your head. âOuch. You really underestimate me, my love. Youâd think Iâd let you do this if I didnât want it?âÂ
Knowing full well how independent and firm you could be, his worries abated slightly, a smirk worming onto his shapely and perfect lips.Â
âOf course not, Miss Bodyguard. You would never do anything if you didnât love it.â
Your eyes softened. âWell, thereâs your answer.â Under the luminous moonlight, your embrace tightened around him, bridging the distance between 800 years and this moment where you and Rafayel would finally be a family.
âI only do it because I love you.â
â rbs and feedback are appreciated !!
Â©ïž all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or translate my work across other platforms.
#𩱠writes#rafayel smut#love and deepspace smut#rafayel x you#rafayel x reader#rafayel love and deepspace#rafayel x y/n#lads rafayel#lnds#love and deepspace rafayel#qi yu x reader#qi yu love and deepspace#rafayel#mdni banner by me#l&ds rafayel#rafayel l&ds#l&ds#love and deepspace#seashell divider by @/ roseraris
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Day 4. Monster-kinktober: Deep Sea + Bitemarks/Ice Play
A/N: I took liberties about the deep sea part, hope yâall donât mind. It ended up being a lot more plot and a lot more fluffy than anticipated, bon apetite!
Orca-hybrid x fem!reader || marking, temperature play, soulmates
When they offer you to travel to the North Pole to do some research on the orca-hybrids up there, you are all over the moon. Youâve been obsessed with them since you had enough brain to think, you even studied marine biology and specialized in sea hybrids so you could study them more (very neurodivergent of you).
You spend the whole trip there being jittery and excited, to the point everyone starts teasing you about your love for orca-hybrids. You blush and donât say nothing, they donât even know half of it. You are obsessed with them in every way possible. Which means thereâs a big chance you have a bit more than interest in them⊠more of a sexual interest. But who could blame you? They are tall and exotic, could walk on two feet but also swim incredibly well⊠They are the best of both worlds and you are about to see them for the first time, to talk to them for the first time. You could barely contain a squeal when the helicopter landed on the base and you saw the orca village not far from there. They were so close!
And things only get better from there.
The first day you approach the village to do some interviews and asks about their habits and culture, they welcome you like a friend, and you are all over the moon all over again. They are so interesting and so different from humans that your brain is going a thousand times per minute at every new piece of information they give you.
And when the sonâs leader appears and you see him for the first time, your breath catches in your throat. Your eyes meet for the first time in front of everyone in the village, and you feel how your pulse accelerates as he approaches. He kneels on the floor in front of you, much to your surprise and everyone else around you. You know that it means he respects you over himself, which is a huge deal in orca-hybrid culture. You donât even know what to say when he introduces himself and asks about your name. You stutter for a bit until you finally get the words out as everyone else just stares at you two.
You leave that day with a red face and a new friend.
All of your colleagues ask you about it for hours, how did you do it, how did you get that amount of respect as easy and fast. But you donât know, you donât understand it either. But the next day when you go outside to grab your motorbike and get to the village, heâs already waiting outside the door.
âGood morning,â he lets out in a deep voice. Your whole body shivers and you try to convince yourself that itâs because of the cold and not because his presence makes you weak in the knees.
âGood morning,â you respond, casually vowing in front of him. He looks surprised at your gesture, but repeats it with a big smile that shows all his teeth. It should be creepy or scary, considering how giant his mouth and teeth are, but you find it weirdly cute. You blush again, it feels like every time you are in his presence you canât stop blushing.
You give him a ride to the village, and he holds your much smaller body against his like you are the most precious thing in the world, making you feel all kinds of flirty. And thatâs how it goes. He walks up to the base, he accompanies you everywhere, he spends more and more time with you. You two talk and talk, and discover more and more about him and his people. Every time you are in the village, heâs not far away, his eyes always on you. And you⊠you are falling for him. And you have no idea if he feels the same way, you donât even know if orca-hybrids like humans in that way.
But everything changes after a month. He rides with you to the village, but this time, once you are there, he takes your hand and walks away with you, your colleagues long forgotten as some other orca-hybrids lead them in another direction.
âWhere are we going?â You ask when you are a few meters away.
He looks down at you and smiles. âIâm taking you to the cave.â
You try not to be too excited, you know about the cave, but itâs not possible heâs leading you to their sacred cave, the one no outsiders can step into, right? Thereâs no way. âWhat cave?â You ask, trying not to sound too hopeful.
âThe sacred cave, I need to show something to you there,â he says, cryptically. But you donât even pay attention to his tone or his words after he says the word sacred. Heâs leading you to the most special place in his culture, and you are going to be the first human to see it.
Oh. My. God.
When you arrive, you are mesmerized. Everything is covered in a soft layer of ice and some kind of plant youâve never seen before. It looks like normal grass, but when you touch it, it moves, like tiny tentacles undulating at the rhythm of unknown forces. Your orca-hybrid crush stares at you with a smile on his face until you have touched and probed and oh-ed and ah-ed everything around you.
You stare at him, your eyes shiny with tears because of the emotion of being there. âWhy did you take me here?â You finally whisper, not wanting to disturb the pace of such a place.
âYou are my mate,â he announces, and your breath gets caught in your throat. You know what that means, youâve been studying them long enough to know. Orcas mate for life. Oh, goddess. He looks at you with uncertainty in his eyes. âDonât you feel it? The pull?â
âI- I do. But itâs not the same for humans. How can you be sure of it?â
âYou smell so good that I want to taste you, thatâs how. Nobody else smells as good as you do, my mate,â his words sound like a reverence, and you are about to collapse from all the feelings running around in your body. You look at him with your mouth hanging open, not fully processing his words. âI know you are the one. The one who completes your soul. The one who would form a family with you and protect you from every danger in the world. The companionship that will make your life whole and your heart beats for somebody else.â You feel a tear running down your cheek at the same time he leans down and engulfs you in a crushing hug. âDo you accept being my mate? Say yes,â he pleads.
You push his chest a bit and look at his eyes trying to decipher whatever is happening inside of you. But the only thought that comes to mind is how right he feels, how amazing itâs been to be with him all those days⊠He feels right. âYes,â you murmur, grabbing his big head and pulling him down in a crushing kiss.
âHow does it work?â You ask.
âI will mark you and we will be joined for life,â he explains. You feel almost vertigo at the thought of being with him forever, but at the same time you feel warmth and heat, and a conviction so big it leaves you breathless. It is what you should do, you know that. âReady?â He asks when he lowers his mouth to your neck. You nod and he bites down, you arch your back and cry out at the sensation.
What you thought was going to be painful is so pleasurable your brain stops working for a second, your whole body reacting to it, heat running down your spine until you are desperate. You whine when he pulls out his teeth, kissing softly around it until your knees are weak and you are so wet itâs insane.
Itâs exhilarating, and when he undresses you completely and lays you down on the weird undulating grass, you can feel it caressing your skin. You realize then you canât feel the cold, something inside of you changing and adapting to your new mate. He takes an icicle from the closest wall, smirking down at you and running it over your body, over all your sensitive places until you are a mess under him, until you are even wetter and more desperate. You need him like you need air.
âMake love to me,â you plead. He smiles at you and kisses you again, his mouth still tasting like blood, but also something indescribable.
âWhatever you want, my mate.â He doesnât discard the icicle, rubbing it around your nipples and making you moan like a whore as you feel the tip of his huge cock in your entrance. He made sure to make you so wet it slides right in, your body accommodating him instantly. You groan and he shushes you, âdonât worry, my mate, the bite took root and you are perfect for me now, we fit like two puzzle pieces.â
He keeps pushing until heâs fully inside of you, until your brain is blank and your body is shivering with the need to explode. He rubs the icicle over your clit at the same time he thrusts his scalding member inside of you, the combination of temperatures is so extreme that you start shivering, your pussy contracting around him and making him moan over you. He keeps praising you and your body and your pussy and everything that has to do with you, to the point you are blushing and your heart feels too big inside your body.
You are about to tell him you love him when flashes appear behind your closed eyes and your body explodes in the most intense orgasm of your life, his body going rigid over yours as you feel his shaft getting slightly bigger as he starts to come. You scream his name as you scratch his back, and he kisses the marks on your neck until your body stops trembling under him.
âI love you, my mate,â he whispers.
âI love you, too,â you whisper back, almost asleep.
#orca-hybrid#orca-hybrid x human#orca-hybrid x reader#orca-hybrid x you#monster#monster fucker#monster imagine#monster x human#teratophillia#monster x reader#terato#monster boyfriend#monster fuqqer#monster romance#monster smut#monster kink#monster love#monster lover#monster x you#monsterfucker#monsterfucking nsft#monstertober#kinktober#monsterkinktober
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Half Blood | Muzan Kibutsuji x fem!reader
Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, TW! YN does get assaulted, mentions of blood, drinking blood, gore, how many times do I mention claws? Oral fem!receiving, fingering, kissing, breeding kink, virgin sex, creampie, and overstimulation.
Word Count: 4.9k
a/n: guys this started off as a quick break from a Sanemi fic I'm working on (keep in mind I think short fics are no longer than 3k) and here I am... with a way longer fic than I intended and something I actually want to expand on in the future. It was a lot of fun to write this so I hope you enjoy it <3
âYou,â His pink irises are illuminated by the moon high in the night sky. The blood within your body cools as you stare back at the man who stored your fate. His inky black hair flows down his shoulder in waves. A deep blue yukata loosely hung on his frame. âIâve been watching you.â Muzan growls, edging ever closer to where you stood. His pointed canines glinted in the light, his nails sharp and ready to claw at your jugular. The demon king rolls his tongue along the tips of his teeth, studying you carefully. Was he deciding whether or not to feast upon your flesh?
He had never seen such a creature as yourself. Your skin was glowing, soft, and supple. The lavender color yukata covered most of your body, a delicate pattern of white flowers spanning the kosode fabric. Your obi was white with purple vines flowing around it. You wear simple white tabies paired with purple strapped zori. Elegance and grace radiated from you. He could smell the wisteria perfume in your hair.Â
It was strange, you were a confrontation to the world he wanted to live in â yet something he could not tear his eyes away from. Here you were, standing in front of him without fear. He rather thought it would be better fun if you were afraid, he did so enjoy the chase. Though, there was â of course â a reason you relented in running away from him. Your eyes were stormy, eclipsed by thousands of emotions. Thatâs when a different smell, that had not yet hit him, tickled his nose. Blood, and not just any blood. You had the blood of a demon in you. Your stern, furrowed brows, with the revolting smell of wisteria burning his nose. You confused him. âWhat are you?â He purs out, not sure if what would come out of your mouth would be a lie or truth. He could always figure it out for himself one way or another.Â
Your lip ticks, a show of annoyance youâd yet to master. The man in front of you knew, he could smell it, of that you were sure. Yet, he dared ask. What are you? Youâd been told many times what you were. An abomination. A curse. A monster. âAre you not the demon king?â You spit back, growing angry. Would the other half of you reject your existence as well? You had hoped at least the demons would have the scarce bit of comradery running through their systems. Muzanâs brows lift, then knit together. Did he need to answer you? After all, he could easily swipe at your neck to kill you for being so insolent. The eager need to hear what you had to say captivated him though.Â
When the man does not answer you tut, crossing your arms over your chest. âHere I thought the mighty demon king would be able to tell me apart from the rest.â You shake your head, laughing stiffly into the night. In a flash Muzan has you pinned to the trunk of a tree. Splinters etch toward your face from the very force of his hand. His muscular body cages you in and it takes you a moment to realize how your body aches to be near him.Â
âI can smell you,â He mutters, squinting his beautiful eyes like he couldnât quite distinguish what he was looking at. âYou assault my senses, itâs driving me mad. Thereâs something different about you.â Muzan had first observed you walking in your village one evening, the way people sneered and cowered at your presence intrigued him. He found himself looking for you every night, wondering what your story was. These villagers were shunning you. He wished to know why such a pretty thing as yourself would be outcasted in her own village. âYou smell like me, yet you are not. So I ask you again, what are you?â His voice is low, edging on the precipice of anger.Â
You do not yield in holding his gaze. âI am you, yet I am not. Born of the sun and moon. A half-blood.â 20 years ago your mother found herself in the entertainment district, serving the pleasures of others. A man came to visit her on multiple occasions. Eventually, the two ran away together. Sharing in love and secrets. Your mother was a demon and your father a local carpenter. How you were able to be conceived was a mystery, even to them. They lived in peace, until one night. The villagers had finally seen through your fatherâs lies, storming their house. They slaughtered both of them and assuming you were a child taken captive, they whisked you away to a widowed mother. As you grew it was obvious where your origins lay, yet no one in the village dared to lay a hand on you.Â
Muzan lets his gaze drop to where your heart pulsed, bouncing the skin of your jugular. âYou are human and demon?â Something pulled tight in his chest. Could you walk in the sun? Did you regenerate? Were you the answer to his plight? âYou are radiant.â He cannot stop the words from falling past his lips. Your eyes light up with recognition, acceptance, and for a moment your past falls away. He had the ever-growing urge to sweep you away. Your very existence was tantalizing to him in the least. He tilts his head, wrinkling his nose at the obscure way you smelt.Â
Your eyes settle on the way he reacts to you, wondering if heâll take you away someplace. Some place away from these villagers who had slaughtered your parents who just wanted to live in harmony. They did not deserve to die and you did not want to live one more second with their murderers. Muzan wanted to take you, but he couldnât. Not yet. You were so fragile. If he were to touch you he would fear you would break on the spot. âAre you going to take me away from this place?â You whisper, hopeful tones floating to Muzan. He swallows something deep and thick.Â
Muzan backs away from you, eyes tensing. âNo.â He replies softly. He could not take you into his den, the other demons were too stupid to realize how precious you were. You would be dead within seconds. The line between your brows hardens again as his words hit you.Â
âNo? Why not? Am I not good enough for you?â Your voice is rising. You sound like a whining child who hasnât gotten their way. Muzan winces at the obvious pain seeping into your voice. You were nothing like heâd ever seen before. Something beautiful, a miracle in his eyes. Therefore, he did not answer you. He simply faded back into the shadows. With his disappearance, your hopes and dreams faded as well.
â
The next time you see Muzan is two years later. His hair is shorter than you last saw it, the curls kissing the nape of his neck. This neat look couldnât contain the loose curls that framed his face. A starched white collar shirt was tucked into an ornate waistcoat. He looked utterly different, yet he was your Muzan. He had the same eyes, the same far-off look, and on top of that, you could practically taste his scent. It was overwhelming, crushing even, but in a way, you enjoyed the rush.Â
It was also a fact that you had escaped your village after one of the men tried to see how strong a half-blood was. He told you he was turned on by how revolting you were and he would take you as his wife in duty only. Until then you had never seriously thought about killing a human. The realization was both terrifying and freeing. So you fled to the entertainment district, living off of what you could at the Kyogoku House. There were so many smells here. Food, humans, sex, and demons.Â
You worked under a beautiful oiran, and you could tell⊠she wasnât human. Part of you wanted to become friends with her, but if she hadnât reached out for the sake of commonality, you didnât think there was a chance of any other relationship than servant.Â
Muzanâs brows furrowed. He had come to visit Daki and yet your scent prosecuted his brain. Ever since he left you in the forest that day he had been thinking of a way to retrieve you. You were too precious to let out of his sight again. This time he would secure you. He could feel his blood boil at the thought of you living in the Ukiyo. Kyogoku House was well protected, but anywhere without him wasnât safe for you. Were you being used by men far beneath you? Muzan had never felt such rage toward the thought of men touching a woman. He often indulged in watching, humans were ever so entertaining â but you werenât human. You were one of his and he swallowed harshly at the fact that you werenât only his.Â
He brushes past some of the lower-ranking courtesans, his eye twitching at their giggles. You watch from afar, the familiarity of his back etching a cold ache into your heart. He would leave again, of that you were sure. You hug the fresh sheets to your chest, making your way to the linen closet down the hall. âAh, YN, Iâve been looking for you.â The Okaasan Omitsu stands before you. She has a cunning sneer behind the kind smile she wears.Â
You bow, storing the sheets away before turning your full attention to her. âYes Okaasan?â You can smell the evil intent behind this woman, it makes your stomach sink.Â
âYou wouldnât mind doing me a favor would you?â She uses the word favor like youâd have a choice. She is the Okaasan after all. Itâs like she thinks youâre some stupid girl that will follow whatever she says. Using the word favor is a manipulation tactic and if you were a naive girl, you would be eating out of the palm of her hand.Â
You tilt your head to the left, plastering a fake smile of your own onto your lips. You knew anything out of your mouth except âyes Okaasanâ would make things harder for yourself. So with all your better judgment pushed aside, you say exactly that.Â
Her eyes gleam. âThank you, my dear. If you will kindly follow me.â She walks back up the hall, toward one of the private Ozashiki rooms. You glance around, nerves settling into your bones. You couldnât be headed into one of these rooms, you werenât even a kamuro. You were just an older shinzĆ.Â
She stops in front of the panel, a cruel smile lifting the corners of her mouth. No, please, not this. âYou are very blessed my dear, one of our chĆ«san is interested in you.â She slides the door aside and sitting against a wall smoking a pipe is a middle-aged man. Cushions are scattered around the floor and a twisted smirk plays with his mouth when he sees you. Okaasan bows then slides the door shut behind you.Â
The room was stifling, the smoke choking out any of the senses you had. It was dizzying. âMmm, youâre a lot older than I thought.â The man sneers, setting his pipe down. The fog of opium seemingly wraps around your throat, making it hard to breathe. âBut youâll do.â He laughs, patting the cushion next to him. âWhy donât you come a little closer?â He offers. Your body tenses. You were in danger, of that you were sure. You were not willing to give your virginity up to such a man but if you denied him the right to your own body, there would be outrage. You swallow, tentatively kneeling on the cushion next to him.Â
He leans over you, sniffing the area around your shoulder. You stiffen. âYou smell so good, better than all those flora bitches.â He growls. âI like your naturalâŠmusk.â Oh Gods did this man â who probably has a wife and children â just compliment how you smell when youâve been working all day? âWhat do you like about me?â What a loaded question.Â
You smile, one that shuts your eyes â if he saw the look in your eyes heâd be sure to know you were lying when you said, âI appreciate your generosity.â You bow your head and the man laughs heartily.Â
His tongue darts out to coat his lips. âI can be more generous if youâd like?â He moves himself closer to you. âI was blessed with wealth, good looks, and a tool to make women scream.â Please let the tool be an ice pick so you can lobotomize yourself. âWhadâya say, darling?â He coos, going in for what appears to be a kiss even though you hadnât been given the time to answer him.Â
You grimace away from his advance, shoving at his chest. The eerie playful tone in the room suddenly seems to vacuum out. The fog is still thick from the burning opium, but you donât miss the way the man before you lunges for you. Heâs panting above you with a charming pointy sneer. âAh ah ah, not so fast. You havenât serviced me, whore.â He digs his nails into your shoulder, pinning you to the wooden floor. âLook at you, begging for my cock with your eyes, ooohh you want it that bad you slut?â He hisses, fumbling with the buckle of his Western-style pants. You squirm wildly under his grasp but itâs like heâs infused with superhuman strength. âIâm gonna fuck you and then, as your reward,â His face is next to yours now, eyes glowing an electric yellow, pupils in slits. âIâm going to kill you.â His hand is on your throat, crushing your windpipe. You choke on what little air you were able to breathe earlier.Â
A demon, this man was a demon. One of your kind. No⊠he wasnât. He was something else. He was driven by the carnal desire to fuck and kill. You were too weak to push him off, your internal forces constantly warring against each other. You had always presented as human, meek, malleable, and obedient. What you would give to have your demon side come forth, bite this fuckerâs head off. You want to scream â but on account of his claws sinking into the back of your neck â if you even moved that would surely be the end of your life.Â
He tears your yukata to shreds, ripping the soft skin of your stomach open as well. Your mouth opens the pressure of a scream pushing against his hand. Blood mixes with the tattered cloth, the cotton dying red.
Muzan pauses, Daki grumbling about some inferior human drama. His eyes search the room, this time Daki taking notice from her self-indulged rant. Where was that smell coming from? He stands, silencing Daki before she can start whining again. The potent smell of blood was swirling to the top floor, but not justâŠany blood. âYN,â He hisses, the annoyance, rage, and blood-boiling sensations he felt earlier returning tenfold. Why were you bleeding? This was fresh cut blood, not from the dues women endured every month. He needed to find you, or he feared the worst. âI need to go.â He barely says to the demon next to him. Her face morphs into one of anger, and before she can hurl anything at him, Muzan slips out of her room. Where were you? He follows the pungent scent, clambering down the stairs and rushing down the hall until heâs in front of a private room. Heâs sweating, for once fear is humming in his ear. He shoves the door to the side, witnessing a demon hunched over your body.Â
Your blood is pooling around you dying the wonderfully blue yukata you wore earlier a sickly brown color. The demon doesnât have time to look up because Muzan is already crushing its head, slashing its throat to shreds of what it once was.Â
The room is covered in blood but the demon is dead. Muzan slides to the floor, cradling you in his lap. âYN, no, no please donât die.â You were his miracle. You were his hope. If anything could save his damned soul it would be you. His arms are trembling as your stomach bleeds out, the skin marred, andâŠGod the smell of your blood was driving him mad. It was something he shouldnât be thinking about as you bleed out under him. You needed to regenerate. He wasnât sure if you could so maybe your demon just needed a little push?
With his free hand, Muzan tears the flesh from his arm, bringing it down to your mouth. His blood trickles onto your lips, sliding into your mouth. After a few silent beats, your eyes shoot open. Muzan has never felt such joy as this very moment. Your arms wrap around his, bringing it into your mouth. Muzan hisses at the way your tongue dances around his wound, lapping up the blood he shed for you. Youâre panting, gasping for more. Your eyes glow as you drag your tongue up the muscle of his forearm. His blood flows through you like your own life force, strengthening your nerves, hardening your muscles. He has made you stronger.Â
It sends a pinch of desire through Muzan. He hadnât felt the heat of wanting to sink his cock into the warmth of a cunt in decades. You were mouthing at his arm, wounds healed on both ends, but now that you were moving the once whole yukata falls off your shoulders. Blood trails from your lips down your chest, between your breasts. Muzan was never one to fend off his desire to want. He took whatever he wanted, without a care. He wanted to take you without a care. Fuck you senseless into the floorboards, claw at you, feed on your blood while you fed on his. It was ecstasy just imagining driving his cock into your pretty tight pussy.Â
âI shouldâve never left you.â He whispers and it sends a rolling wave of want through you. You move to straddle his lap.Â
âThen donât leave me now.â You could both smell it, the heat and arousal in the air. âTake me, my Lord.â He smirks, holding onto your thighs.Â
He hums, enjoying the way youâre bare in front of him. You were a sight to behold. âMmm, such a smart girl.â A portal opens underneath him, the wooden floor sinking into an expanse of rooms, platforms, doors, lights, and endless corridors. The sheer speed whips your hair around your face until â it doesnât. Youâve stopped in the middle of whatever this place was. âWelcome home,â Muzanâs pink eyes darken to a deep crimson as he sits up straighter, pressing himself into you. You moan in delight as his hands work their way up your hips, sitting you down on the stiff part of his lap.Â
You tilt your head, peeking at him. âIâve never liked pants,â you mumble, playing with the hem of his. He chuckles his smirk growing.Â
âAnd why is that?â He inquires, moving his tongue to lick up the blood that has traveled toward your navel. You choke out a moan as he makes his way between your breasts. You can feel his teeth against your skin and itâs a wretched thought. âAheh,â He swipes at the crest of your breast.Â
âH-hard to get off.â Muzan hums against your skin in agreement, but heâs too preoccupied with the way you tremble with untapped pleasure.Â
He wants to tear into your flesh, mark you as his, burn only his name onto your tongue. âSuch an eager kitten,â He licks his lips, capturing the back of your neck in his hands. âYou want me bare that badly?â All you can manage is a small nod as he gingerly moves you so that youâre laying down. Your hips are still lined up with his as he gazes at you. âI can promise you I have a similar urgency.â He grins, pulling the belt from his breeches with a smooth movement. He tosses it to the side, but doesnât make any more movements to pull his pants down. Muzan notices your heated gaze pointed toward his hardened groin.Â
Did you know nothing about the workings between a man and woman? His eyes trail down your body, stopping at the apex of your thighs. He wraps his arms around the bend of your knee, smirking when your eyes widen in surprise. He tugs you upwards, to where your legs are over his shoulders. Being this close to your glistening pink cunt made his groin stiffen even more, if that was possible. The smell of you was intoxicating. He couldnât help himself. âWhat a fucking view.â He growls.Â
Muzan buries his head between your thighs, latching his mouth onto your swelling clit. You gasp in pleasure, breaths turning into ragged moans as he plunges his tongue deeper into you. âO-oh my God, fâck, ngh.â With the way his tongue his twisting and sucking inside of you, breathing seemed impossible. His claws dig into your outer thigh, scratching red trails to your knees. He devours every bit of you he can reach, crazed by the tangy sweetness of your arousal. Your walls were squeezing around his tongue, heat running through your body.Â
Your own hands find your stiff nipples, rolling them around in your fingers. You couldnât get enough, it was the same feeling you received from drinking his blood. Heat rolling around in your veins as his eyes take in your puffy cunt and how your eyes roll to the back of your head. He maneuvers one hand from under your knee to the one place that was being ignored on you â your entrance. It was like the gate to a shrine and he wanted to worship there for eternity. âLook at how fucking wet your cunt is.â His pointed nails shape into shorter rounder ones, he dare not damage this holy place. Then, without warning, he presses two fingers into you. A yelp echoes across the void of the infinity castle. âAhhh, shit,â You huff, tensing from the sensation of your pussy being stretched.Â
Muzan knew you were a virgin, he would be lying if the fact didnât make him grow more feral to have you sit on his cock and take his seed deep within you. He wanted you. He wanted you. He wanted you. That was all he could think about while lapping up your wetness.Â
The slick from your cunt was sucking his fingers in, a growl rumbling around your clit. This makes you scream out as a shockwave shoots through you. Your thighs are shaking and every once and a while â as Muzan still selfishly fingers you through your climax, sucking on your clit â your body will twitch. Heavy and heady moans fall from your lips, breaking into whines as you come down from your high.Â
âYou did such a good job my sweet,â Muzan lowers you gently back to the floor. Your neck is sore from being at an awkward angle for so long, but you would give anything to see the disheveled man before you with your arousal still on his lips. âThatâs it. Prefect. Youâre so perfect.â He mutters, licking his lips and watching you still play with your nipples.Â
Though you feel like youâve just ascended, you crave more. You want Muzan to breed you like his own personal slut. âM-more,â You gasp. âI feel so empty my Lord.â You huff, the edges of your voice bleeding to a whine. Muzanâs eyes widen. He hadnât intended to fuck you just yet. Give you some time to grow accustomed to sexual things so it wasnât rushed, but your eyes are pleading him to continue. Heâs⊠nervous, which isnât like the demon king. Heâs so eager to please you. Make sure youâre comfortable. He wants to give you hell, heaven, and the earth.Â
âYouâre practically begging me.â He chuckles, unsure if you really knew what you were asking. There was no way that once Muzan slid into your heady cunt that he would not ravish you. There was no way to tell time in the infinity castle, so there was no way for him to know when to stop until he was satisfied. You squirm to get closer to him, spreading your legs wide for him. His gaze drops from yours to your center, whatever shred of humanity that was left in him suddenly flying away. âSuch a filthy slut. Youâre already hungry for more? You want me to fill you up? Then beg for it.â His eyes narrow into slits, the magma growing in his belly.Â
Your body cools with a shiver of excitement, as you reach down in between your thighs. You purse your lips and then spread your labia apart. The cool air tickles the sticky wetness but you can tell itâs doing something for him. âPlease, my King, I want you to fuck me so hard I canât think. I want you to take my virgin pussy and make it yours.âÂ
The corner of his mouth ticks up in a smirk. âAs you wish my Queen.â He frees his cock and you have to take a moment to gulp at the sheer size of it. The head is leaking precum and bruised a red color from the lack of release. The shaft is a pale pink, a thick vein running down the underside. The muscles of his hips also catch your attention. They were unlike the drawings some of the courtesans had shown you. His were muscular, ready to thrust into you for hours.Â
Muzan lines himself up at your entrance, this time with the head of his cock. The idea was thrilling, finally pushing into your pussy and breaking the barrier of your womanhood. He hisses as your slick coats him, making it easy enough to start entering you. Your face contorts with a mixture of pain and pleasure. âShhh, you can take it.â You want to wiggle away from him, the pain of his member stretching you out is enough to break you. âAh ah ah, youâre not going anywhere pretty girl. Remember you asked for this.â Muzan leans over you seizing your mouth with his own. You share a leisurely kiss as he swallows your moans.Â
He feels the head of his cock hit your hymen and with a wince he thrusts past it. He can feel the rush of silky blood around his cock, but he tries his best to divert your attention with heated kisses. You break free, a long drawn out moan gasping out of you. âAhhh, oh my, hngh nngh yes!âÂ
Muzan nuzzles into your neck, the feeling of your walls clenching around him driving him practically insane. âYeah? Tell me how good I am. Tell me how good I am at fucking you.â He hisses out, desperate for your compliments and approval.Â
âNnnggh, sâgood, fâckinâ me sâgood.â You slur, drunk on how he guided a new path into you. You pant and writhe under him, eyes fluttering shut.Â
âNot yet my love, I want you to watch.â He starts to move his hips and you wince in burning pleasure. âThatâs it. Youâre doing so good.â He grunts, snapping his hips back into you. The wet slap of skin hitting skin sends shivers down your back.Â
Youâre straining against the build up in your stomach, a pit of coils wanting to spring forth. âMmm, harder.â You huff, reach out to grab the back of his neck. He shakes his head, a playful smirk on his swollen lips.Â
âUse your manners.â He teases, squeezing his eyes shut.Â
âPlease fuck me harder.â You mewl just as he starts to thrust into you with a quickened rhythm. Your breath is sucked away by the pure bliss aching from the friction.Â
Muzan bites down on his lip, brushing a few curls that had come free from behind his ear. âYou like it when I do that?â He quizzes, fucking you harder. You can only manage a nod.
Your voice has grown hoarse from moans breaking into screams and whines. You buck your hips along with his as you arch your back, tumbling over your peak. âFâck, haa haa hnngh,â You squeeze his cock and release his neck, breathless from your second orgasm.Â
âCum all over my cock, fuck,â Muzan growls, the feeling of your slick cum coating his length. He was gliding into you with such ease. He would apologize to you later for this. He pounds into your sensitive cunt, overstimulating you as you cry out. He rams himself into you and stays deep within your pussy. Panting heavily Muzan finally crashes over his own wave of pleasure. Splurting his cum around the walls of your pussy. He doesnât want to pull out â for one fact he wanted all of his cum to stay within you â and for another fact, you were all the salvation he needed. He could find redemption with you. He rolls you both onto your side, hiking your leg over his hip to make sure he can stay inside of you.Â
This was it, you had driven him to the edge and he would make sure to never let anything else touch you. As he gazes upon your soft features drifting off to a satisfied slumber he feels what once was his heart ache. âWe should get married.â He blurts out.
#smut fanfiction#smut#demon slayer fanfic#demon slayer headcanons#kny smut#demon slayer#demon slayer smut#demon slayer x reader#kny x reader#demon slayer x you#kny x you#demon slayer muzan#kny muzan#muzan kibutsuji#kibutsuji muzan#muzan#kimestu no yaiba#kimetsu no yaiba muzan#muzan x reader#muzan kny#muzan demon slayer#muzan smut#muzan x y/n#muzan headcanons#kny drabble#demon slayer drabble
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pairing: werewolf! mingi x hunter! reader (fem)
genre: fluff, romance, smut
summary: you seemingly end up biting off more than you can chew upon discovering that the beast you hunted down for dinner is not what it seems.
w.c: 4.5k (more plot than smut this time hehe)
warnings: needy soft dom! mingi, sub! reader, pet names + praise only (shocking ik), pheromones mentioned, possessiveness, kissing, groping, tit play, spit + drool bc wolf mingi is a messy boy <3, mingi eats out reader like sheâs his last meal đ«¶đŒ, SIZE KINK,,, feral unprotected sex, knotting <333, bulge kink/cum inflation, breeding kink ofc
a/n: ITâS FICTOBER TIME BITCH LETS FUCKING GOOO đŁïž i am fashionably late ~ but i have come here to humbly offer you lovestruck werewolf mingi đș <3 this is the softest my fictober stories will get btw lol itâs gonna be depravity from here on out ^^ oh and iâm sorry if this fic seems disjointed in any way,, i have a lot on my mind these days but regardless i hope you enjoy ~~
pssst: thank you so, so much for 5.5k followers !! itâs honestly insane to me and i still canât fathom it hehe but the support and love means so very much to me <333
song rec: say - keshi
fictober 2024
You knew better than to hunt at night, but your rumbling stomach begged to differ. The evening air was frigid, sitting heavily inside your lungs each time you regrettably breathed it in, your hefty pelt only doing so much to keep you safe from the powerful winds that continually blew through the vast forest around you. You pulled the hood of your pelt down for a moment, the familiar sounds of wildlife finally making their way to your now exposed ears, though a freezing breeze made its mark on the soft flesh of your rosy cheeks and nose. You bit into your chapped bottom lip, surveying your surroundings for something youâd be able to feast on once you were back inside the safety of your cabin, thanking the gods for the decent visibility you had from the full moon above.Â
The longer you sat there in silence, your body never growing acclimated to the fierce winter temperatures, you began to fall susceptible to exhaustion, the kind that had sunk its way deep into your bones in the same way your loneliness had for years at a time, feeling so heavy you retired from your once rigid stance and slumped down against the oak tree behind you. A few winks of sleep couldnât possibly hurt you, not when you were quick to rise and fight if need be, your trusty bow and arrow at your side, as well as a pocket knife always sitting in its holster at your hip. You would be up as soon as you had the strength to open up your eyes and go on.Â
You eventually woke up to the sound of howling. It had been so distinctly powerful that it was most likely produced by a large wolf, perhaps the leader of a pack. It was then that the culprit of the noise stalked past a few nearby trees and bushes, its dark shaggy coat leaving it virtually impossible to see due to the way it blended in so seamlessly. Leaving abnormally big paw prints behind in the ground below, it slowly paced back and forth in front of you, still quite a distance away from you, but getting closer and closer with each step it made, its large brown eyes piercing right through yours and seemingly gazing upon your soul, deeply fixated on your presence.Â
It was much larger than any wolf you had seen in your entire lifetime, more akin to a dire wolf, which you had only seen in books, as it had been extinct for hundreds of years before, yet it wasâŠso familiar. Still trapped inside the limbo of the dream you were initially having and your reality, you werenât completely sure if what was happening before you was actually real. Not only that, but you had the sudden urge to be at the mercy of the wolf, even if it meant that youâd end up with your throat between the beautiful creatureâs ragged teeth. However, you werenât going to roll the dice with death, not when youâve seen past loved ones get their lives snuffed out by a predator half the size of the one that was suddenly eagerly making its way towards you.Â
Just before the wolf could reach you, your bow was drawn, the feathered arrow slicing into the cold skin of your cheek as it sailed through the air and lodged itself into the creatureâs shoulder, your eyes shut tight all the while. What you expected to hear were the familiar pained whines of a canine but you instead were exposed to the lower pitched groans of a man, causing you to freeze, your eyes opening back up, now widened like marbles. The last thing you were expecting to see was another human, not when you lived alone in the woods for so long, and especially not a man that was stark naked and cowering in pain, with tears in his glistening eyes, looking at you as though you had betrayed him.Â
You dropped your bow in favor of being at the strange manâs side, surveying his wound, realizing you were so exhausted and hungry, you mustâve simply imagined the wolf. âI-i thoughtâŠâ you whispered, mostly to yourself, your voice trailing off, almost surprised to hear it after not using it for so long.
âIs that your way of saying hello?â The man hissed in pain when you touched the site of his wound, pushing your hand away from the broken shard of wood that was still lodged inside his bare shoulder.Â
âI thought you wereâŠgoing to kill meâŠâ You reached down and tore off a portion of your thick linen blouse, about to wrap it around the manâs wound when you blocked you with his forearm. âI saw a wolfâŠâÂ
âDo I look like a wolf?â he pouted, reaching over to hold his shoulder in pain.Â
âIâm sorry, IââŠPlease, let me help you. I need to apply pressure,â you reasoned, your face contorted with growing regret and concern.Â
Studying your body language, the man cautiously let go of his arm and allowed you to wrap the torn linen around the wound site, biting into his lip all the while, letting out a few pained grunts. âHurtsâŠâÂ
âI know, Iâm almost done, I promiseâŠâ you whispered softly near him, taking a second to share a look with the man, apologizing once again with your softened gaze and upturned brows.Â
Once you were done, he leaned forward slightly into your personal space to study you, his eyes widened once again, this time with curiosity and admiration, already trusting you despite remnants of your arrow still left inside him.Â
You bit into your lip, letting out a small breath, which turned into condensation as soon as it left your mouth. âI didnât think anyone else lived in this forestâŠWhere did you come from?â
Afraid that you would find his true identity to be far too much for you to handle, he thought it would be better to hide it. âSome would call me a nomadâŠIâm here, there, everywhere, really.âÂ
You nodded at his words, noticing once again that he lacked clothes when you were finally able to pull your attention away from his hypnotizing likeness, never having been drawn to someone like this before. It was then that you averted your eyes with diligence, your once cold cheeks growing warmer the more he stared at you. It took all your strength to return his gaze for just a moment. âDo nomads usually wander around the woods without proper clothing?âÂ
âWellââ The werewolfâs vision went dark for a second, as your pelt was thrown onto him. He pulled it down just enough to continue admiring the human he had been watching from a distance for so long, blowing a few strands of dark shaggy hair out of his sight. âIâm Mingi, by the way. Whatâs your name?âÂ
âY-Y/N,â you answered sheepishly, not sure why the strange man was so keenly interested in you, especially after you just shot him with an arrow.Â
âY/N,â he repeated lovingly, enjoying the way it sounded, slowly sitting up until little white dots began to dance around his vision. âI donât feel so good.â When Mingi fell forward into your arms, he couldnât help but smile. You smelled so pretty, just like he had imagined. Warm like cinnamon, smoky like the fire you always kept burning inside your cabin, sweet like flowers in a garden he would roll around in when no one was around. You smelled like home.Â
-
It took most of your strength helping the injured man back to your cabin, immediately laying him down in your bed and pulling your warm blankets up over him. To beat the freezing temperature inside your cabin, you quickly tossed a few pieces of wood in the fireplace and lit it up. You stayed crouched near the controlled flames for a little while to make sure the fire stayed alive, until your company let out a soft groan of pain. Now at his side, you pulled the pelt from his shoulders and frowned at the extent of the damage you caused, tears pricking at your eyes. âYouâre still bleeding, MingiâŠIâm so sorryâŠI need to stitch you up.â
Just as you stood up, Mingi reached up to hold onto the corner of your torn blouse, blinking hazily up at you, a few beads of sweat cascading along his straining neck. âPlease, donât worry about me, love. Youâre the one who needs rest.âÂ
âNonsense.â You shook your head, pulling away to find your sewing kit, your cheeks hot to the touch. Once you found it inside one of your drawers, along with a sleep shirt that had belonged to a previous loved one, you returned to Mingiâs side. âNow, stay still, okay?âÂ
âIâll do whatever you need from me.â Mingi slowly sat up and rested his back against the headboard, watching with interest as you expertly sewed his wound closed, quite fond of the way you took care of him, and of how close you were to him, your hand resting on his chest for stability as you worked. Before you could pull your hand away from his body, he placed his over yours, unintentionally allowing you to feel his rapid heartbeat. âThank you for this. Anyone else wouldâve left me for the wolves.â
Biting into your lip, you couldnât help but take into account the way his hand completely enveloped yours, truly forgetting just how important physical touch and connection with others was until this very moment, now that his warm skin was pressing into yours. âI-itâs nothing, reallyâŠâ
âNo, itâs not just nothing,â Mingi pouted, slowly bringing your hand up against his cheek to gently nuzzle into it. He couldnât believe he had gotten this close to you, the special human he had been head over paws for ever since he had seen you for the first time. âItâs everything. You saved me.âÂ
It was almost as if this stranger had escaped one of the novels you read over and over, seeming too good to be true. âIt was the least I could do after I hurt youâŠâÂ
It was when Mingi began to look at you for too long, with that unwavering longing in his eyes, that you cleared your throat and stood up, announcing, âI think Iâll make us some nice, warm soup. How does that sound?âÂ
It took everything in Mingi not to let out a few celebratory howls, instead nodding his head eagerly, his shaggy brown hair bouncing. âIâve always wanted to try your food. I can smell it from outside sometimes and it always makes my stomach rumble.âÂ
You began to expertly chop up vegetables, stopping mid slice when you digested Mingiâs interesting choice of words. âSo you know of me?âÂ
âI-i do,â he nodded shyly, despite your back being turned away from him.
âHave you been watching me, Mingi?â you asked after a few more minutes of silence, your knife now slicing into the last few potatoes you had pulled from your garden before winter began.Â
ââŠ.Admiring you,â he gently corrected, knowing his big fluffy ears would be splayed out in embarrassment if they were there.Â
Just as you began to pour the cut up vegetables into the pot of boiling broth, you blushed and jolted suddenly from the implications of the handsome strangerâs words. Your elbow knocked into the side of your cleaver, causing it to slip off the edge of the wood counter. Before you could blink, Mingi had already caught the handle of the cleaver, slowly standing up by your side, officially displaying the sheer size difference between the two of you.Â
âI didnât mean to scare you, loveâŠâ Mingi set the cleaver back down onto the counter, reaching over to touch your hand with a gentleness you hadnât experienced before.Â
The speed and quickness of Mingiâs reaction was incomprehensible; you were still reeling from it. Now he stood beside you, his size and stature more akin to a beast in human form than a simple man. Not only that, but the hand that was overlapping yours felt hot to the touch, like Mingi had a furnace burning away inside of him. You had heard stories of shapeshifters that lived in dense forests much like the one you called home. They had been around for centuries, living amongst themselves, never interacting with humans, able to take the form of beasts at will. You glanced out your window, peering up at the bright orb looming over you. It was a full moon, after all â but did myths like that really exist in the real world?Â
âMingiâŠare youâŠ?â Your words began to die inside your mouth as soon as the puzzle pieces began to fall into place inside your mind. You couldnât deny the connection you felt with Mingi, knowing that your total isolation played a part in your desire to let him in. It clouded your mind. You were growing so tired, you almost didnât seem to mind if he wasnât strictly human.Â
Mingi smiled softly down at you, one of his canine teeth poking out past his plump lips, leaning himself down a bit to shorten the distance between you. He waited eagerly for you to finish your question, tilting his head to the side, having to blow his hair out of the way.Â
âAre you hungry?â you finally asked, lowering the flame on the stove so that the soup could settle now that it was ready to serve.Â
Mingiâs lips formed a silent âoâ, his cheeks burning with embarrassment. He thought you mightâve been on the same page about your mutual attraction, but he was beginning to suspect that his obsession with you was one sided. Itâs not like you had imprinted on him; it was the other way around. Silly wolf.Â
Before Mingi could cry about it, he tasted something so delicious, he couldnât help but let out an enthusiastic âmmm!â. You had slipped a soup spoon into his open mouth, allowing him to try the first homemade meal heâs ever had in his life, one that you had made for the both of you to share together within the sanctity of your cabin, away from the bitter isolation of the forest. He was a silly wolf, after all, because this, this was love.Â
âGood?â you gauged softly, your eyebrows upturned with sheepish anticipation.Â
âGood! Ahhh~â Mingi licked his lips and opened up again, savoring the warm, comforting feeling inside his stomach once you fed him another bite. âIâve never had something this delicious before.âÂ
âOh, stop,â you blushed, pouring some soup into a bowl and handing it to Mingi, shocked to see him bring it up to his mouth and gulp it down. âOh, you werenât lyingâŠwere you?âÂ
Mingiâs brown eyes were round, shiny like marbles, filled with unwavering sincerity. âEverything tastes better when youâre with the one you loveâŠâÂ
You almost choked on your own soup, finding it hard to breathe all of a sudden. âD-did I hear that rightâŠ?âÂ
Mingi was a romantic at heart. He couldnât help it, especially when the moon was so big and bright, glowing with everlasting light. She was reminding him to be brave. âY/N, do you believe in love at first sight?âÂ
Your heart thumped away inside your chest, a steady reminder that you were alive, and not alone for the first time in a long time. âI think I mightâŠIs that crazy?âÂ
Mingi brought his hand up to his face to hide the way it scrunched up with pure joy, his cheeks rosy and full of warmth. âIf it is, then I must be too.âÂ
âWhereâŠhave you been all this time? Iâve been waitingâŠfor someone like youâŠâ You slowly reached up to pull his hand down, bringing it to your own face, pressing your cold cheek into his large palm. âFor someone to keep me warm.âÂ
He had been there all this time; you just hadnât seen him yet. But now, you would see all of him. Without thinking, Mingi brought his other hand to your face, gently cupping your cheeks and bringing himself down so that he could press his lips onto yours. It took everything in him to pull away just enough to whisper, âIâm here now. Is thatâŠbetter?âÂ
For the first time, you felt like you could let your guard down, not be the lonely, hardened hunter you had to be. Now that you were safe, you could take a rest. âBetter,â you whispered back, wrapping your arms around Mingiâs neck just in time to lay against his chest, losing the strength to stay awake.Â
-
You woke up to the sensation of something intensely warm wrapped around you from behind, someoneâs lips idly pressed to the nape of your neck, what felt like fluffy ears twitching near your hair, the soft fur tickling your exposed skin. The air around you was hot and heavy like you were stuck inside an oven, an enticing aroma of spiced cinnamon and woody musk clouding your senses. Your eyelids fluttered open, first noticing two strong arms locked around your middle, realizing Mingi was holding you close to him, his heated chest pressing into your back.Â
Overcome by the memories of earlier, the forgotten intimacy of being touched and held by someone, the intense pheromones you were practically doused in, and the want, the need to be truly seen by Mingi, despite having just met a few hours ago, you attempted to turn around to face him, only to have him tighten his grip just enough to keep you still. âM-mingi, I want to look at youâŠIâm not mad, I justââ
âDo you know what youâre getting into, love?â he whispered in a gravelly voice into your ear, sounding like he had just woken up out of a deep sleep, sending a rush of goosebumps across your skin with just his words. âIâm notâŠwhat you think I am.âÂ
You sheepishly pushed back against Mingi, hearing him let out a soft groan, knowing he was just as satisfied with the way your body felt against his. âI already know, MingiâŠI trust you. Iâm not scared.â You felt his grip loosen up around your waist, opting to cement his hands around your waist.
His lips were now pressing directly onto the shell of your ear, making you shiver. âDo you know what I am, Y/N? Do you wish to see?âÂ
âI doâŠâÂ
It was then that Mingi climbed on top of you, his broad naked body keeping the glowing orange light of the fire from reaching you, the pelt you had offered him earlier falling into a pile on the side of the bed. Filled with a sense of lustful wonder, you studied Mingi, your half-closed eyes trailing along his tan skin, noticing how his wound had already healed completely, unable to ignore the arousing addition of his elongated canine teeth and the way his tongue ran across them. âYouâre aâŠwerewolfâŠâ
Mingiâs fluffy wolf ears twitched slightly, listening closely to the way your breath hitched. âMost would be scared of me, but youâŠyou like this.âÂ
You swallowed harshly, still finding it very difficult to breathe in the air around you, Mingiâs dominating presence further encouraging you to submit. âWill you eat me?âÂ
Mingi let out a small puff of air through his nose, the corners of his mouth curling up into an amused smile, lowering himself further onto you, knowing his heavy cock was pressing into your heat through your linen trousers. His lips ghosted along your jaw, the bushy end of his tail gliding back and forth along one of your ankles, replicating the light strokes of a paintbrush. âOnly in the way that would have you begging for more.â The small moan that escaped your throat didnât go unnoticed by Mingi. He nosed at your neck, resisting the urge to lick and bite at it. âThough, i wonât do anything without your permission, love.â
You cupped your hands around his heated face, your insides feeling as if they had been set ablaze. âDo with me what you will, Mingi. I insist.âÂ
When Mingiâs lips parted, you pressed yours onto them with a fervor you didnât realize you possessed. The kiss grew more and more intense, the two of you holding onto one another as though you were afraid it all would end too soon, taking turns licking into each otherâs willing mouths, breathing in each otherâs air when you grew dizzy.Â
Growing frustrated with the lack of skin on skin contact, Mingi pushed his large hands up past the hem of your woolen top and slid it off of you, admiring the soft curves of your exposed breasts, before his desperation kicked in and he nuzzled his face against them, sighing onto your skin. âBeautifulâŠâ He dragged his tongue up in between your tits, grabbing one while he sucked desperately on the other, a low growl erupting from his throat.Â
âMingi,â you moaned out, your back arching, only encouraging him to see what other pretty noises he could get you to make, gasping when his sharp teeth teased your sensitive nipples.Â
He licked over them to ease the sudden bout of pain, unable to keep himself from sucking one of them into his mouth, apologizing with his upturned eyebrows and his big, round eyes.Â
You simply couldnât take it anymore. You needed him to make a mess of your aching cunt, feeling your wetness stick to the thin linen material of your pants as you kicked them off. âMingi, more, please, need moreâŠâÂ
The werewolf knew what you needed when your fingers slid into his soft hair, leaving kisses along your bare body as he moved down south, getting himself comfortable between your spread thighs. âYou want me to eat you up, yeah?â He spread your pussy open with his thumbs, nosing at it to inhale your flowery scent, quite aware that it bumped into your clit when he gave your slit an experimental lick, just enough to collect your essence on his tongue. âMy beloved needs me to ravage her?âÂ
âYes, pleaâoh, my god,â you reacted whinily, your thighs involuntarily pressing into the sides of his head just as he dove in, which he grabbed onto, pushing them up and out of his way, his lips and tongue already working in tandem to drive you to a place of pleasure youâve never been before.Â
Mingi devoured your cunt in true animalistic fashion, licking and slurping up your juices as soon as it spilled out of you, just to spit it it back onto your slit and drink it all down, eventually plugging you up with his large tongue to feel you throb, unable to keep himself from fucking you with it until you began to cry out his name in between unintelligible words, your fingers tugging on his hair.
So good, itâs so good, nnnghh, iâmââ You cut yourself off once your impending orgasm took over your body, barely able to register Mingi rubbing soft circles into your shaking thighs and leaving kisses across your inner thigh and on your sensitive clit. You were finally brought back to earth when Mingiâs arousal coated tongue slipped into your mouth, his heated body pressing heavily into yours, gasping into his mouth as soon as Mingi began to desperately rut against you, doing your best to swallow his drool. It was when he whimpered that you broke the desperate kiss, asking softly, âWhat is it, dear? Tell me what you need.âÂ
âNeed you, need to be inside you,â Mingi exhaled against your jaw, letting out a few shaky breaths, unable to keep himself from sinking his claws into your sheets, clearly at his limit. âCan IâŠ? Please?âÂ
âHave your way with me, Mingi,â you granted his wish, welcoming him with open arms, just as he folded you up into a mating press and began to pound himself into you.
Mingi knew that such an intimate position would almost guarantee that you would home his pups after the very first knot. It drove him crazy. He couldnât help but fuck into you as hard and fast as he could, emitting a animalistic grunt or growl with each thrust he made into your dripping cunt, a few drops of drool escaping past his plump lips and landing on your flushed, sweat-ridden face. âYouâre mine now, love. My mate. Iâm going to breed you.âÂ
âYâoursâŠ!â you could barely enunciate, not when he kept punching the air out of your petite body when his oversized one came in contact with yours, his heavy cock continually slipping back into your willing hole with so much ease, it was clear that you were made for him.
âMine. My pretty little mate, all for me.â It was then that Mingi bit down into your neck, hard enough that he could leave his mark on you, a white hot streak of pleasure shooting through your spine as he did so.Â
It felt so good, you couldâve swore you were already cumming, dragging your nails down his broad back, your eyes disappearing underneath your fluttering eyelashes. The werewolf didnât seem to get tired, no matter how many times you came undone, his large hands still tugging on your hips, forcefully guiding you back onto his cock as though you were a simple doll, at least until you felt a new sensation, something stretching you open even further. âHaaah, itâs so bigâŠâ Â
âThatâs my knot, love. Will you take it, Y/N?â he panted into your ear, licking and nibbling at it as his husky voice finally penetrated your hazy mind.
âYes, give it to me, please, MinâŠâ
He hummed against your skin, running his hands along the soft edges of your heated body. âIâll breed you fullâŠso full of my cum, youâll be carrying my pups by the next full moon.âÂ
Something about what Mingi said altered the state of your mind on a primal level, your thighs automatically hooking around the werewolfâs waist, your arms around his neck to hold him impossibly close. You wouldnât be alone anymore. You had a âmate,â like Mingi had lovingly coined the phrase. You would be his, and he was yours, and something so simple made you feel safe.Â
âYes, please.âÂ
It wasnât the heavy knot that stretched you wide and locked you in that brought tears to your eyes, but the sudden, hot, seemingly endless rush of cum that flooded your womb that made you cry. Mingi rubbed gentle circles over the small pouch that joined the prominent bulge his cock made inside your abdomen. âYou did so well, love, so good for me,â he cooed at you, giving your cheek a few loving licks. âYou were made for me.âÂ
âI was just thinking that,â you sighed softly, running your fingers through his matted, sweaty hair, loving how it felt to have him still stay inside you, keeping all his love from pouring out. It just felt right. Being here with Mingi felt right, like you had always been waiting for him to fall into your life.Â
âThatâs because youâre my other half.â He pressed a kiss to your forehead, before resting his against yours. âIt was destined.âÂ
âFor me to shoot you with an arrow?â you joked, reaching up to gently play with one of his furry ears.Â
Mingi nuzzled into your touch, wanting to stay with you in that moment, that warm bed, that cozy little cabin that kept you both safe for as long as he could. âI would get shot a million times over, if it meant that I could meet you again.âÂ
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© kitten4sannie, 2024.
#ateez#ateez smut#ateez mingi#song mingi#mingi smut#ateez fic#ateez fanfic#mingi x reader#ateez x reader#ateez x y/n#kpop smut
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Feeding
Male Half-Demon Yandere x Gender Neutral Vampire Reader CW: Noncon, blood drinking, biting/cutting for blood, making out, drugged sex, drugged reader, forced addiction, overstimulation, reader fucked well and truly out of their mind whilst high on demon blood, aftercare, general yandere behavior Word count: 1.6k (Sorry this took forever. The image of reader sitting on dick while sucking blood from a wrist was living rent free in my head and I had to write this. Written on my phone, hopefully I fixed all the weird formatting and typos.)
The full moon shone brightly in the clear winter night. With each exhale, your breath plumed out visibly. The shadows of trees stretched long and spindly, grasping for a material world they were incapable of grabbing hold of. You hid amongst the bushes, silently watching the small bar in front of you. It was a secluded place. Quiet and down the road from anything else. Perfect for a person to grab a drink. Even a vampire like yourself. This was your first night in this town, but there were almost always places like this to slake your thirst.Â
Wait for a drunk customer to come stumbling out and nab them to have a drink of your own. Then, if you needed to, use your hypnotic powers to make them think it was all a dream.Â
That's what you had intended tonight. But then you caught a whiff of a human that smelled much more tempting than any other you had ever encountered.Â
The bartender. Your sharp ears could pick up his name even from outside. Wade. Not that you needed to bother knowing it.
You decided to wait for the last lingering patron to leave the bar before sneaking in and making your move. It took a few hours, and your joints grew stiff in the cold, but finally, the bartender was alone, and you could make your move. You were practically salivating as you slipped into the bar, and his scent hit you more directly. You couldn't wait to taste what waited in his veins. Luckily, you didn't have to.Â
"Sorry, we've just closed," he said as he heard you enter.
With superhuman speed, you rushed behind him, barely having time to note the surprised expression on his face.Â
You wasted no time on pleasantries and sank your fangs into his neck.
Instantly, you were lost in his flavor. His blood was glorious. But after one drink, your eyes glazed and your thoughts were foggy.Â
He plucked you off of him easily, and you fell to the floor, dizzy and confused but yearning for more of him. You were so thirsty. A mild sense of euphoria washed over you, but your body felt weak and wobbly.Â
Wade stared down at you, smirking. His brown hair turned silver, small black horns sprouted from his forehead, and his hazel eyes glowed red.
"What's wrong? Bit off more than you could chew?"
Not much blood had been consumed, so you started to get to your feet, but Wade wanted you nice and helpless. He rubbed his fingers to the bite mark you had left and shoved his fingers into your mouth and smeared the drug on your tongue. You immediately slumped against the counter.
He went and locked up the bar before returning to your side and administering another hit of his blood. You eagerly drank it up. It was too irresistible.Â
Then he gently led you downstairs where he apparently lived.Â
"Didn't realize I was part demon or didnât know demon blood was like a narcotic? Maybe you didn't know either of those..."Â
He tossed you on the bed rather unceremoniously.
"Thought you were gonna get an easy meal, but you're gonna feed me too!"
Assuming that he ate beings with magic, you looked up at him with a horrified expression and scrambled to get off the bed. He stopped you and pushed you back.
"I'm nourished by intoxication and addiction the way sex and lust nourishes an incubus," he explained, having noted the fear on your face.
Though you still had a fierce thirst for his blood, you weren't addicted. Yet. Just significantly increased blood cravings. You had the presence of mind to know what he intended, and you didn't want to be a captive.
"You can't do this!"
The effects of his blood on your body were rapidly wearing off. It had only been a small amount. You could use your speed to zip awa-
"I can do whatever I want to a little leech like you~"Â
Wade pinned you on the bed and used the sharp nail of his thumb to slice his wrist before shoving his wrist to your mouth. You tried to turn away and keep your mouth closed, but you could feel the warm blood tingle your lips, and the smell was all-encompassing. Tired of your struggles, he smacked you hard across the cheek. You could have shrugged off a strike from a normal human, but he had demonic strength. As he had anticipated, you cried out in pain. With your mouth open, he jammed his bloody wrist right into your mouth.Â
Once a drop had touched your tongue for the third time that night, all your resolve melted away. You relaxed under him and greedily lapped at his wrist. Now that it was in you, you needed more.
As you gave into your dark desires and fed off Wade, he fed off the intoxication and the budding addiction growing inside you.Â
But the whole situation had his cock straining painfully in his jeans.Â
He maneuvered your clothes off as well as his, but your attention was focused on your meal. You whimpered and grabbed for his arm as he pulled it away to lube up his cock. Just because he was doing this for nourishment didn't mean he couldn't have some fun. Besides, being all cute and needy for his blood made you look far too tempting for the half-demon.Â
He pulled you into his lap and slid his thick cock into you.
Wade put his arm up to you so you could suckle from his wrist as he slowly fucked into you. A large demonic cock like Wade's would have stretched and hurt the hole of any human, but you were far more durable. In fact, it felt quite nice. His blood seemed to heighten pleasurable sensations while reducing unpleasant ones.
You moaned softly as you fed.
"That's it, take alllll you want babe. I regenerate faster than you can drink."
It must have been true. His wound had healed and you had to bite his wrist to draw more blood. He didn't seem to mind.Â
The demon kissed your neck and sucked it softly as he continued pumping into you. Never too hard to interrupt your meal.Â
He kept the slow and considerate pace until you had finished. Blood was smeared all over the lower half of your face, your eyes glossy and half lidded. You were barely cognizant of your surroundings anymore. All you knew was that you felt warm, happy, relaxed and, for the first time since you had turned, alive.
Wade angled your face towards him and kissed you deeply from behind, enjoying the taste of blood from your lips and the rush of energy he got from getting you high. He brushed his tongue against your fangs to draw blood so you could suck it while the two of you made out sloppily. The half-demon broke the kiss, a sanguine string of saliva and blood connected your lips for a moment. Wade hastened the tempo of his thrusts into you as his mind raced over the implications of having you.Â
A human would have died from just a drink of demon's blood. That's why he blended each bottle of booze in his bar with but a single drop. Just enough to subconsciously coax humans to crave coming back to his bar and give Wade a bit more intoxication to sustain himself. But he didn't have to hold back with you at all.Â
Rapturous moans left your body as your pleasure reached its zenith. Your normally frighteningly pale face was actually flushed.
"You enjoying yourself?" Wade smirked and kept going.
You could only weep silently as the overwhelming sensations from the drug and sex mingled into an overwhelming wave of ecstasy bearing down brutally upon you.Â
With supernatural stamina he kept going for hours, he readministered his blood as needed. Every time he made you cum you whimpered. Each orgasm seemed to hold within it a greater and greater threat of throwing you off the brink of sanity and shattering your mind.Â
By the end of it, when he had finally had enough after filling you with cum over and over again, you were a shaky drooling mess. His demonic features faded away as he picked you up. Then he took you to the tub and bathed you gently, getting all the dried blood off your face and cleaning up all the semen leaking from your hole.Â
"Sorry I had to give you so much. Have to get you hooked on it."
Wade picked you up and wrapped you in a soft towel. You were too out of it to respond.
"The crashes aren't bad though at least. Extreme cravings but no life threatening illness or anything."
He kissed your forehead and tucked you in before getting under the covers and spooning you.Â
"You're gonna love it here I promise. All the blood you want. I'm not just keeping you here to feed me, I could see glimpses inside your mind when your inebriation nourished me."
The half-demon ran a hand soothingly up and down your side.
"I know we're compatible lovers. You'll see."
You could hear his words but could just barely process them.Â
"B-but.." You protested weakly.
"Hush now. You need to rest."
He put his arm around your waist and held you protectively. It was so much easier to just let sleep claim you than it was to resist.
Wade stayed up far longer though. All the thoughts of the wonderful life you two would share together running through his head and keeping him awake. It would be amazing. He couldn't wait for tomorrow.
He'd treat you so well and make sure his little vampire was always happy. And he'd keep you hopelessly addicted to his blood. You'd be so helpless and dependent on him that you'd simply never be able to escape.
#yandere teratophilia#yandere terato#yandere x reader#monster boyfriend#gender neutral reader#yandere monster#male yandere x gn reader#my ocs#yandere boyfriend#yandere#male yandere x reader#male yandere#yandere male#yandere x you#yandere demon#yandere half-demon#vampire reader#My OC Wade
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colour me in: the starry night | jjk (m)
Summary:Â You anticipated the trip to Jungkook's hometown with a thrilled yet nervous heart â and upon your arrival, your emotions prove justified: because as the days pass, you realise that gentle joy awaits just as much as ancient pain.
âł pairing: Jungkook x reader âł rating: 18+ âł genre: fwb/f2l, fake dating; angst, fluuuuuff, smut âł warnings: fluff fluff fluffluffulfufluf, flirting, daddy issues, arguments with his father, his dad is pretty much an ass and almost as bad as oc's mom, but his mom and brother are <3, ria <3, oc being a light in the dark, oc learns many new things, cursing, fighting, a lot of crying/tears, neglect, mental breakdown, panic and anxiety, anger, insecurities, too many mentions of nostalgia lmao, jealousy, mention of therapy, nara, christian yu lmAO, WEDDING TIME!!!, oc is so pretty (that jk loses it), alcohol/drunk stuff, more confrontations, making up, he loves loves loves her, childhood coping mechanisms; explicit sexual content: kissing, making out, oral (f. & m. receiving), teasing, eating out against the wall, bit of wall sex, drunk sex, manhandling omg, impatient koo, big dick!jk, dom!jk but this timeeee also sub!jk lowkey!!, tears of pleasure, masturbation, fingering, handjob for a bit, squirting, creampie, literally their orgasms are a MESS phew it's kinda hot lmao, moany/whiny/super turned on jk; no 'the ending' warning this time⊠just the whole chapter đ„ș âł word count: 45.9k lmfao pls do still read it tho âł a/n: this was supposed to be 30k i can just never shut up lol sorry <3 but this chapter honestly got me good. i cried sm writing it and i love them and i never want this story to end :') i hope you love it, too. thank you for supporting me at all times <3 i can't wait to hear what you think đ€ âł listen to: dance me to the end of love by the civil wars (alt. version) | full collaborative playlist đ€
SERIES MASTERPOST | TAGLIST MASTERLIST | WIPs
Itâs going to be okay â Jungkookâs hand gently clasping your thigh wants to convince you of this, you know.
But you canât deny that the presence of the family you so long awaited is affecting you â your pulse is quickening to a heavily uncomfortable pace. You know his mom; you donât fear his brother; but his father⊠his eyes are inscrutable.
They scare you to no end. There he is; the power continuously shattering your boyfriendâs heart. And Jungkook must be well conscious of your distress; because a mere moment later, he of all people, the one who's supposed to seek comfort, saysâ
âAngel? Breathe.â
Your eyes swerve to the side and remember to blink; you only now feel that you're jabbing crescent moons into your palm, just when you realise the sharp impact. You uncurl your fingers and nod, letting him cover the faintly scarred skin with his hand.
Sighing, you ask, âAre you okay?â
âI am,â he says, nodding, as if heâs practised and polished this answer over the years, ânervous, but⊠itâll be okay.â
âYes⊠I know.â
âLetâs go?â
You pull the handles on your respective sides at the same time, setting foot onto the stranger soil for the very first second in your life. You canât quite discern your gut feeling right now, but you hope itâs not the last.
Waiting next to the car, you watch Jungkook round the vehicle, squinting your eyes; the noon sun is burning right above you. He heaves the suitcases with a faint groan and you join him right away to fetch the rucksack you brought.
Holding it between your knees, you flash his family a smile and a slight wave, awkward and unsure about what to do until his mother steps down the porch and towards you. Sheâs elated, and you see the same sprinkle in her eyes as in her sonâs when she closes in enough for an embrace.
Her arms are comforting around you; somehow, youâre startled by it. Takes you a second to reciprocate the hug, hopefully not long enough for her to question your receptiveness. But then you put your chin on her shoulder, shutting your eyes for the briefest of seconds until you open them to a side hug between Jungkook and his brother.
In the slowly cooling weather, she feels warm, a motherly love that blasts heat to your cheeks until she lets go. âFinally a woman, huh?â she breathes, her voice so sweet and kind. âA great alternative to all the testosterone.â
âI can imagine,â you respond; the thought isnât too much of a stranger to you. âI spent most of the week amongst men. Theyâre barbarians.â
She laughs, just in the moment that Junghyun, Jungkookâs brother advances towards you. He offers you his hand and a radiant smile that resembles your boyfriendâs. In fact, he does look quite a bit like his younger sibling. Lopsided smirk, fluffy dark hair, handsome features.
Not a lot older. Kind as he greets you with a, âMiss Novaura herself, yes?â
The name makes you beam, inundates you with pride. You appreciate that he doesnât revert to Charmante as most people have done throughout your life, but sees you as what you are and what you do now. The manager of Novaura, damn it.
Yes.
Has he been keeping up with stuff?
âAnd Miss Novaura meets the second Jeon himself!â you respond, but as he grimaces, you bite your tongue immediately. What did you say?
âWhen,â he starts, overly dramatic, a little like Jungkook, yet somewhat more extroverted, âwas I demoted to the second Jeon?â
âOh, IâmâŠâ
Jungkook clicks his tongue from the side, shoving his brother aside in the most sibling-like manner you can possibly imagine. Then, he threatens, âDonât do this, or Iâll take her away from you guys again.â
âWhatâs that mean?â you ask.
âIt means,â Junghyun interjects, âthat everyoneâs been dying to meet you. Mom and I even told Jungkook not to spill too much about you, so we can see ourselves.â
Oh, the pressure. The nervousness from the past couple of weeks skyrockets. Yet, your charming self conjures, âThen I hope I donât disappoint.â
Jeon Junghyun speaks on, babbling something reassuring that youâre certain could warm your chest if you had the capacity to listen. But you drift off quickly as the side of your eyes follows a movement in the back: Jungkook timidly, almost fearfully nearing his father.
Youâre alarmed and you canât tell why â perhaps because you donât truly know their situation yet. You havenât seen them interact. But at this very moment, youâre surprised when Jungkook and his dad share a light side hug, too.
The occurrence is frigid, but somehow, you expected even more frozen behaviour. Rare glances, absolute ignorance. Your mind envisioned a world that harboured true enmity, but you donât think thatâs quite what these two have been maintaining over the years.
In some sense, itâs worse.
Because rather than pure silence, thereâs a deep distance that is still disguised as a surface level of closeness in a family. Faking it might just be more difficult after all.
Thereâs no conversation between them. Nothing much as Jungkook comes back to his mother to give her a warm, genuine hug, a rainbow to a drizzle in comparison. As if to receive what his father didnât provide.
You follow.
Youâre not entirely keen on a too affectionate interaction between his dad and you, but you still smile when he lifts his hand, shaking it kindly. From here, as the corners of his lips raise, wrinkles around his eyes that he passed onto his next generation, he looks like a terribly nice man.
He gestures into the house and you follow, listening as he asks, âWas the journey okay?â
You nod joyfully, mustering up all kindness for somebody you know hurt someone you love for so long. After all, Jungkook has done the same for you, no matter how many times your mother shattered you.
And in the end, itâs still his dad.
âOh, yes, pretty pleasant,â you answer, clearing your throat when you hear the formal tone in your voice. âWe took turns driving. And since I fell asleep, I guess I can still seize the rest of the day⊠if you want to?â
You turn to Jungkook as the sentence fades out and he nods with raised, stirred eyebrows. âYeah! Itâs what weâre here for.â
His father smiles, a flat hand signalling towards the living room to invite you to rest for now. Matters seem normal so far; for a moment, you allow yourself to believe he isnât so neglectful after all. Even with all your trust in Jungkook, you try to imagine a scenario in which he perceived his fatherâs distaste as something wrong.
Youâre incorrect.
It doesnât require more than a couple minutes and a bit more mingling until you recognise amidst the smalltalk that he doesnât behave the same with his younger son as he does with Junghyun. Thereâs lightness in the way he converses with the latter.
Jungkook only moves around you and his mother; no particular intention to really connect with his dad. Understandably so. Their gazes barely meet.
Not even when his fatherâs tone drops as he approaches Jungkook, uttering a seemingly obligatory, âYou alright? Is the job good?â
âMhm,â Jungkook merely responds.
The interaction is awkward and quiet, yet too noisy for the lovely room. You focus on the homely furniture and small-town-vibed interior as you wait for the brief dialogue to conclude. Youâre not at a place to intervene yet.
There are pictures of the family, yet fresher if you could judge. The ones showcasing memories are probably somewhere you canât see yet; youâre buzzing to finally skim through his childhood pictures.
You listen in. Quiet again, conversation already at an end.
Jungkookâs fingertips graze yours, giving a short head tilt, wondering what youâre thinking about. His beam is different when he looks at you now, a much more blissful alternative to the timid words he voiced just a couple seconds ago.
But you canât really answer when his mother emerges in the room to wave you towards the kitchen, eager to converse, yet suggesting, âIf you want, you can freshen up before dinner.â
But you reject the idea kindly, flashing your best smile as you respond, âIâm excited to be here, so we can just talk a little for now. Iâll go wash my face after dinner!â
She nods slowly, politely, a the-guest-is-king-sort of gesture before you add, âHow have you been?â
The family joins at the dinner table one by one; nobody interferes or barges into anotherâs turn. Only listens. Youâre used to chaos from events and parties you used to attend, everybody dying to have the last word, to outsmart another.
This family is as patient at a conversation as youâve witnessed in your boyfriend. Theyâre lively, interested; maybe thereâll be more of an ecstatic family tumult when you get used to them or when more people join. At the wedding, probably.
Youâve seen something like that with your friends, too. Especially on this vacation. You did fall into disorder quite often.
Yet, it differs from your usual experience. No discomfort. No fear of odd questions.
The Jeons arenât out to reveal your little secrets, but to understand you as a person; so you appreciate the natural flow of the dialogue when Jungkookâs mother answers, âJust tired. The wedding preparations are tedious, and itâll probably only get worse.â
âYeah? Youâve been helping out a lot, yes?â
âYes, somewhat. The bride⊠Gayoung, sheâs close with us and relies on us a lot. And on top of that,â she shakes her head at this point; rolls her eyes as she turns on the stove, stirring and heating up some meal, âsheâs getting cold feet.â
âOh man,â Jungkook adds, chuckling a little, unsurprised, âwedding is definitely on, though. She always gets nervous. Almost missed her first day at work years ago,â he turns to you, âsheâs a vet, and she was terrified of hurting the pets, but⊠everybody trusts her with their petsâ lives now.â
âAwh,â you voice, âI can imagine how stressful that must be. Iâm pretty good at managing stuff, though, so if you need any helpââ
âNo way, youâre not here to work. You can do something else?â His mother looks over her shoulder, pondering. âPaint?â
âOh, I do paint sometimes, but Iâm not very good at it.â
âShe is,â Jungkook argues, hand lifting to rub your back, âbut sheâs an even better writer.â
His father chimes in, arms folded, âOh, I think you can get a ton of inspiration here, then. Thereâs a flower field nearby if youâre interesâ what?â
Stopping when Jungkook interrupts with an exhale, he tilts his head at his son, and you follow his gaze, watching thick eyebrows kiss. âI already took care of that, but⊠way to spoil a surprise.â
Ah. You see the hostility increase with each second. You wish you could diffuse the moment; tell Jungkook to ignore everything that might irk him.
Instead, you only sneak your palm to his knee, imitating his rub to calm his nerves. He must be tense. He always must be.
âI wasnât spoiling,â his father argues, âwas just an idea.â
âOh, itâs okay,â you intervene, patting Jungkookâs thigh. He looks at you just briefly, but it suffices for some of his muscles to relax. âI donât know much anyway. Spoiler-free zone!â
Itâs the best you can do. So you keep trying; diverge the topic to other aspects of your life when Junghyun asks about your job and the efforts connected to it. About the joys and hardships of it. About how your parents are doing â burdensome topic, yet a must to master.Â
Then they speak about the passage of time in the city, and how it compares to this place; how the family perceived the differences and how their current life differs from their past here.
You learn that they still feel more connected to their hometown; obvious when considering the fact that they spent most of their years here. Initially uncertain about moving, they still decided to be closer to their children and the worldâs opportunities.
The city called and it kept them.
You know it kept Jungkook the most; or maybe it was you who shackled him there, too.
âApart from the obvious differences,â you start, âI canât comment much on it yet, but⊠Iâve been really interested in being here. Super nervous.â
His mother coos, scrunching her nose the way he does, assures that thereâs no need to be nervous; that this wedding might end up being the kindest you have ever been to. Adds, âSpeaking of. Brought a pretty dress?â
âOh, of course,â you say; your toes curl in excitement. âIâd show you right now, but I promised to keep it more or less a secret from Jungkook.â You wiggle your eyebrows at him. âHeâs seen it, but not me wearing it.â
âAh. Is it that pretty?â
âItâs pretty amazing.â
She steps closer as the dish simmers, playing with a couple strands hanging in Jungkookâs eyes. His lips twitch upwards, and his cheeks colour in a blush when she says, âWell, knowing this guy, youâre out to give my boy half a nervous breakdown, I see.â
âIâm trying to, really.â
Your answer is light-hearted, but a mere moment late. You canât help but wonder what she means by knowing this guy. Then again, you presume a mother usually witnesses her childrenâs lives; watches them fall in and out of love.
You donât like how the realisation makes you feel, but you smile it away either way.
And it doesnât help when Junghyun seems to catch onto her statement, too, saying, âBy the way⊠Iâve heard that at the wedding, weââ
But the interruption is sharp. Unnatural, abrupt, his motherâs voice strange when she interjects, âAh. Listen. Letâs serve dinner, and we can talk more when we eat. A hand?â
You donât know what itâs about, but you attempt your best to not be nosy. You canât even guess it, so itâs probably easiest to let it go. To only stand up to help a little, Jungkook and you handing things around until youâre seated again.
She still scolds Junghyun silently, eyes wide when she sits next to him; perhaps itâs a surprise for Jungkook or for you.
You wonât spoil it. Focus on the food.
And despite the early tension, you survive dinner, albeit occasionally cut by things Jungkookâs father remarks and by Jungkookâs responses of retaliation. Likeâ
âHonestly, you not liking these is a perk,â Junghyun comments when Jungkooks puts the green beans aside, snatching them immediately.
His father is quick to deduce, âDidnât you love them?â
Jungkookâs smirk is immediate, accompanied by a shrug and a click of his tongue, and a somewhat passive aggressive, âYes. Fifteen years ago, though.â
Itâs odd, the mixture of anger and fear. He reveals his agitation in his short answers, but he never extends them to something that might provoke a bigger fight.
His father then says, âIâve never seen you put them aside.â
To which Jungkook mutters, âShouldâve looked more then, right.â
âThatâs unnecessary.â
âOkay.â
Tense. Quiet. Gulping.
But you get it over with, breathe and touch through it all until the plates are cleared, stuffed in the dishwasher, the clock ticking. Jungkook leads you to the porch that his family greeted you at earlier. You intertwine your fingers deeper, hoping for some solace between the irate words exchanged.
His shoulders stand slightly higher than usual, eyes a little unfocused. You squeeze his palm, and he laughs when you bump your shoulder against his. Tapping his foot against the porch, he says, âThis is where we were having a barbeque this summer. Remember when I called you?â
As if you could forget. Those calls got you through messy, forsaken summer days. He lets go of your hand to tug you into his side, tight in his embrace, and your voice grows a pitch when you answer, âYeah. You were drunk.â
âI was.â
âAnd you still called me. Burned your finger, right?â
He scoffs. âI barely remember that. I just remember seeing you on the video call and⊠missing you really bad.â
You glance into his face, opting him to do the same. Eyes half on his lips, half on his pupils, staring to and fro, you ask, âYou donât miss me now, though, right?â
âHm⊠I donât hope Iâll ever need to again.â As he presses into your arm, you cuddle in. He nods towards the small front yard, âThey were playing Linkin Park here. And way back, when I was like seventeen, Iâd smoke here sometimes.â
Your eyes blow wide; you canât imagine his gentle fingers holding a cigarette between them, but then again, you kind of can. He laughs at your surprise before he continues, âI know. Rebellious phase. It was stupid, because Mom would smell it right away and then ground me.â
âDamn, Kook.â
He nods, lifting a shoulder as if to say my bad, and then kisses your temple. Asks, âYou feeling good?â
âYeah. I really like it here so far.â
âGood.â
âAre you?â
âYeah. Itâs okay.â
âGood,â you echo, just for him to do it, too.
âGood. I think we couââ
Pause.Â
Because the feast of interruptions continues still. A sudden, shrill call of his name reverberates across the streets, and you flinch, following the sound on the right before detecting somebody walking up to you.
You havenât seen her yet, but sheâs glowing; hair open behind her, just the top half held at the back with a butterfly claw clip. The breeze swirls her bangs, and just from the exhilaration in her voice, you can tell who it is.
Jungkook lights up equally when he squints his eyes and recognises her, loosening his grip around you as he exclaims, âHey!â
âHelloooo!â
And then he lets you go. You watch the endearments unfold. He says, âDidnât expect you here today.â
âMe neither,â she says, and he laughs; you join in, already curious. âI was going to binge some show, but Junghyun texted saying youâd arrived.â
She catches up with a somewhat heavy breath, widening her arms when Jungkook steps down from the porch and engulfs her in a firm, heart-warming hug. Loving, decades old.
They oscillate on the spot, and she rubs his back until they let go. She doesnât waste a minute until her eyes drift to you; theyâre so expressive, dark yet glimmering. They prove your assumption when you see her joy towards you immediately.
The moment begins a little awkwardly as the stranger approaches you with uncertainty about what to say, but then she asks, âIs it okay if I hug you, too?â
You giggle. Goodness.
âGosh, sure!â
And youâre delighted to the bone. Her touch is warm, inviting. They all are. Youâre not used to it; why does it make you sentimental? You donât know her. Youâve never spoken to her. Why the clump in your throat?
Weird.
âRia,â she introduces, âIâve heard so much about you. Really, itâs a common thing to say, but Iâve been really excited like⊠man, why did you come so late when he was sooo whipped in the summer already andââ
Your face heats up impossibly; this thought of a passed summer that called upon a million unknown emotions and words and encounters and yearning⊠you might never get over it.
Jungkook gives her a playful whack on her clothed arm, eliciting a prolonged Owhhh. You lift a protective arm over her to jest back, and she gasps, infinitely pleased. It helps her open up more, because it seems that she doesnât need more than this to suggest, âCan I take her?â
Wrinkles form on his forehead as he raises his eyebrows in confusion, and she, nearly jumping at her spot, explains, âShow her around a bit. Weâre having dinner soon and then I wonât be able to move, soâŠâ
Jungkook blinks, unsure, looking between her and you until you urge, âItâs okay. You drove most of the time, too, so try and rest a bit.â
Your reassurance helps; either way, you donât think you wouldâve gotten to much more today anyway, no matter how much you hoped to seize the evening. Youâre beat from the last day and the terrible night and the tiring journey and the filling meal.
Taking a walk is all you can imagine to do right now.
Maybe heâs on the same wavelength as you, because the nods come slowly but surely. âSure. Go. Iâll come later to bring her back.â
Ria places a sweet hand on your back, urging you forward and speaking back, âGotta make sure I donât kidnap her, what?â
Her house is nearby. The first of the conversation goes by similarly as it did in Jungkookâs house, but the moment she announces the arrival at her own home, your calm demeanour changes to a rather terrified one.
Sheâs not going toâŠ
No.
Because she promises, âIâm not taking you inside, no worries. I wouldnât overwhelm you like this.â
Your chest relaxes. You guess meeting one family officially, as if youâre being evaluated for marriage, might suffice. While sure her familyâs as lovely as the other, you donât want the overstimulation.
So instead of urging you inside, she takes you to the small cottage next to her house. Their property is a little bigger, the area spacier. You soon find out that the little house sheâs taking you to isnât some guest thing, but houses dozens of farm animals.
You didnât think there was something to the clichĂ© you heard about small towns; yet, the reality is much more endearing. How oddly cheerful the animals seem, even though you know the fantasy is just a fabrication of your mind.
You donât know what theyâre thinking or feeling.
One of the hens clucks as Ria picks it up, looking at you with big eyes as she says, âI thought you guys would come early in the night and then just sleep. I didnât know youâd arrive so much earlier.â
âOh yeah!â you say, hands in the back pockets of your jeans, âWe left the hotel at noon.â
âThatâs crazy.â
She bends, letting the hen go, and the little thing instantly rushes away. You flinch, stepping back. Youâve never done this before; you try to keep your cool, but youâre so inexperienced, mesmerised by your surroundings.
This place is so different, so much quieter, more serene. You understand the nostalgic vibe of romance movies set in towns like this. Youâre suddenly thrown into The Notebook and into Footloose. Into everything that evokes warmth.
âWhat is?â you ask.
âJust. Itâs so nice to meet you. We have so many guys here, so itâs cool to be with a girl for once.â She takes a deep breath. âAnd I love Kookie and I trust his judgement. So when he told me about you, I told him to get you here right away. It took you so long.â
Her tone is frisky, but you feel bad. Not quite because you let her wait, but because of why you waited yourself. Because of the breaks and pauses and the split hearts that you needed time for to sew again.
The weeks of insecurity and then the trials of life.
Something in the pit of your stomach stirs at the memories; you canât believe youâre standing where he fell for you first, despite the distance. Where he reached for you through the rain and the clouds and the stars, and called to listen to your tears and your pleas to return.
You canât believe it. In fact, yes, you believe it as little as her.
âI get itâŠâ you say, âwe have quite a few guys in our group, too.â You wait, watching her nod as she inspects the last of chickens running into the cottage. Then you ask, âWhat did he tell you about me?â
âWhat he told me? Mmmh. I mean, itâs difficult to say. He spoke of you highly, but I think his main focus was on not hurting either of you. Very, very worried about how things might play out.â
Yeah⊠yeah, it sounds like him.
You donât answer; shift your eyes to the grassy ground. You hear her voice lift a pitch as she says, âMan, too many guys is simply too much, though, seriously. And then having to deal with Kook all the time must be so exhausting, too.â
Laughter erupts out of you, and you shake your head, âI mean, heâs a brat sometimes. But heâs the best man I know.â
âHe is a good guy, yeah? Iâm so glad.â She nods again, affirmative and positively confirming. âHeâs always been. It sucks sometimes that he lives so far away.â
âIâm sorry,â you say, but she shrugs her shoulders, waves off your concerns. âI take it youâre not interested in living in the city?â
Her eyes narrow when she looks into the distance, met with the lowering sun as if it entails the entirety of her beloved town. Itâs probably part of it, though; the one sun sheâs known all her life, despite the same star rising and setting everywhere in your vast world.
âNot really,â she says, âI like it here⊠Even though so many left.â
âYeah?â
âYes. Some people I knewâŠâ
You can imagine. Two faces flash into your mind, at least. Not that you like half of the thought; but itâs automatic, and so is your statement, âI feel like I know at least two.â
She seems surprised. Tilts her head, blinking, hands on her hips. âReally?â
âYeah, wellâŠâ You avert your eyes, fearing an abundance of transparency. âJungkook and Nara.â
âOh.â Riaâs blinking fastens. She didnât expect this; neither did you. But in some sense, it was inevitable, dropping Naraâs name here. âYou met Nara, huh?â
âYou say it so⊠weirdly.â
Her hands lift and she immediately works on objecting to your assumptions, âNo, I mean. Sheâs nice! I liked her growing up. I just wouldnât have mentioned her unprompted. Thereâs no needâŠâ She studies your face. âHe doesnât either, you know? Talks about you mostly.â
You donât know what to say. You gathered this much; but a very strange feeling in your chest presses against your heart, and you canât quite decipher why. You shove it aside as best as you can, and then breathe it out, thankfully admitting, âThatâs relieving.â
âThereâs no need to worry. I think he and you will have a good time here and bond more than ever.â
You nod. You donât feel like responding; not because you donât like her or donât want to. Your throat is tied, and you canât really think of or form a productive thought. So you just keep nodding, smiling until a hen pops out again.
Ria, pushing away a stray strand of her dark hair, points to the little, excited animal, wondering, âHey, have you ever held a chicken?â
âNo!â Ah. Good tactic to distract you, considering how many times you mentioned this minor wish in the past weeks. âBut I want to! Told Jungkook like a hundred times.â
âOkay,â she waves you closer and you dare to approach, hoping to neither hurt the hen nor yourself. You have absolutely no clue about these things. âCome here then. Itâs not hard.â
Itâs not. In fact, the process sounds logical, facile; but your hands are shaking, and often enough, animals seem to understand negative emotions when targeted. But Ria proves a good teacher.
Shows you to near the hen calmly, moving slowly to not startle her. She instructs you to soften your voice as much as possible, kindly noting that youâre soft-spoken enough to not worry about it. And then, once close enough, she demonstrates placing a hand around the tiny body, securing the wings to prevent flapping.
You imitate. Or try to, at least. It doesnât work right away, your nervousness intruding; but at some point, you manage. You use your other hand to support the body, lift the hen gently. Hold it close to your body to give her a sense of security, much as Ria lectured.
Ria is patient, amazing, despite having done this probably a thousand and million times. Adjusting to your lack of knowledge, praising you, acknowledging your effort.
Her giggle is mellifluously sweet as she watches and hears you gasp; she applauds, but stops right away when she detects the third presence amongst you.
She calls, âAh! Youâre finally here.â
Your eyes follow hers, heart lighting up as you hold up the chicken carefully and nearly shout in uninhibited excitement, âKook, look!â
His hands are in his jeansâ pockets; his walk idle. One of his eyes is squinting shut until he steps into the shadow, a tender smile playing around his lips before you realise that it looks⊠sad. Doesnât reach as far. No crinkles around his eyes.
âArenât you the cutest, munchkin?â he responds before dropping into a crouch next to you. He seems brighter upon seeing your face, but you still keep wondering⊠What just happened in the house?
You donât know. You donât want to ask yet either.
So you only set the hen down, lowering her until sheâs balanced and waddling â waddling? â away. You wrap your arms around him, providing a flicker of warmth. You donât know what made his face fall like this, but you want to at least attempt to lift his chin again.
God. What a start to the first day. Is it odd to feel scared?
âWanna go?â he asks, a thumb brushing the corner of your lip.
You hum, âIâm getting tired, yeahâŠâ
âThen we can go and rest? And sleep if you want to.â
Itâs early⊠but laying down and staring at the ceiling doesnât sound too bad right now. Maybe he needs it, too. So you agree, pressing Ria to your heart once more and promising to return to her.
Sheâll be at the wedding, too. You guess youâll see everyone multiple times anyway; but as rude as it may sound, the thought of warming into this manâs body doesnât allow you to bother with the world right now.
His steps are slow as you walk to the house. Eyes drooping. He might not notice; heâs been here so many times. But his presence, combined with the things you see, make your heart swell.
Maybe because you want to be there for him; maybe because you still canât believe youâre here. But you perceive everything as if for the first time.
The cosy garden and the flower beds. A small-town house sitting on a quiet, tree-lined street. Itâs more on the simple side, painted in warm hues, a light beige. Charming. You remember everything being charming.
The snug living room, the tender, partly wooden and partly modern kitchen, the clearly old and handmade dishes. A fireplace. Wooden floors.Â
You havenât seen the rooms yet, but as he leads you upstairs, you imagine him doing the same this summer as he approached his bed. He walked these same steps, a narrow and short hallway, opening the door to an inviting childhood bedroom with you present in his device.
Yearning.
But the man from the summer isnât all you see. In fact, the place reminds of time travel; you soon recognise just how signature Jungkook everything is.
Because the moment you enter, you see him in everything. Like, in the soft quilts on his bed; he wouldnât use them today, but you imagine a shy Jungkook and you imagine big eyes, small hands pulling the sheets over his body to cuddle into a warm night.
The window overlooks the backyard; the sunlight filters through the sheer curtains. Itâs still just the middle of the evening. But you find it hard to want to leave this simple comfort. Lived-in, sweet.
Reminiscent of a youth.
Like a soft tune of a ballad. You donât know what it is that makes you feel this way.
The cosiness? The pictures on shelves? The slightly tilted roof of the room? Or the posters reminding of a world a decade ago. It hasnât been this long, if you think about it, but to you, all of this still tells a story.
âWhatâs this?â you ask, opening a random drawer and grazing rolled up paper, large, stowed away.
âPosters, I think? I havenât seen or opened them in ages. Maybe we canââ
He pulls and rolls them out, glancing for a bare moment before he undos the action with a sudden bright red on his cheeks. You try to catch a glimpse, âWhat?â
He doesnât answer, so you take the poster from him, only needing to open it halfway through to see a pretty face, followed by a swimsuit and a snatched body. Ah. Is thisâŠ
âVictoriaâs Secret?â
âShut up,â he instructs, and you hold yourself back, watching him, blinking untilâ
You puff out some air, nearly spitting as you laugh, teasing, âYou were that type of guy, yeah?â
âShut up,â he repeats, prying it out of your hands before he throws it into a corner. âI had this up for like two weeks. Forget it.â
âNever threw it away, though.â
âNever thought of it.â
He scratches the back of his head, a tilted smirk on his face, and you canât help but want to keep annoying him. But he needs far more than this right now, and youâre not here to get on his nerves. So you walk up to him until determined arms wrap around his waist, kissing his chin.
âYou okay?â you ask.
âWellâŠâ Heâs quieter than heâs been in the last few days and it disheartens you. Somehow fatigued, eyes halfway closed. âYou know.â
You do know. Or perhaps, you donât, but you can well imagine.
Youâre not sure how he took all of this day in, day out for so many years, but you understand the weight of the situation a lot better now. Of course your mind would be rewired if you hurt this much all the time.
Whatever youâre seeing now is a fraction of what he experienced.
âItâs going to be okay,â you remind him again.
âYeah.â He sniffles. âHey. I have a little surprise for you tomorrow. It was spoiled a bit, but youâre right.â A peck to your nose. âYou donât know anything yet. But youâll like it, I think.â
You donât doubt it; you guess it helps, not being aware of much at all. Waiting for the surprise.
But then againâŠ
When you look at him again, excitement flickering in those tired eyes of his and a hand pushing against the small of your back lightly, you think that you know a couple things at least.
âOkay. Hold on. Youâre definitely going too fast!â
âThis is too fast? You shouldâve seen Junghyun and me racing years ago.â
You lower your head in an attempt to hide it from the wind, seeking his sweater; itâs impossible from this angle. Youâre at the front, surviving between his arms as he navigates the bicycle recklessly.Â
The wind slaps your face, cooler this noon than yesterday. The bike writhes on the road, and you yell out, âMan, Iâll die!â
âBaby!â he exclaims back.
His laugh is louder than the gust as you hold onto his moving thighs and then realise itâs of no help. You shift your hands to the front of the cycle, wondering when itâll hit an unforeseen rock and tip over.
âHey,â he tries again when you only scream back, âhave you never been on a bike before?â
âOf course I have!â You resist the urge to add a curse. Heâll kill the two of you. The streets are steep, probably a hill, going downwards. âJust never two people at once.â
âI did it a lot! With friends, and mostly with Gureum.â
Gureum⊠his dog. You have yet to meet him.
âGureum?â you repeat.
âYeah! Heâd sit in the basket and⊠and enjoy the wind. Eyes closed.â He pants between cycling. âI told you, no?â
But your thoughts are elsewhere, chin dropping to your clavicles as if not looking could save you. âFucking hellââ
âOkay. OkayâŠâ
The bike stops abruptly, and you yelp, shutting your eyes tight and preparing yourself to die. But death doesnât come; a tap to your hip does. His fingers hold you, calming you, words the opposite as he orders, âAlright. Get off my bike. You can walk the rest of the distance.â
Between the sniffling and the reclaiming of control of your trembling legs, you register the surprising command, and mumble, âWhat?â
âYou heard me, sweetheart. Iâll wait at the flower field.â
You dare a look over your shoulder. His expression is serious, an eyebrow cocking. You want to retort something snarky, tell him youâll stay on if he just slows down, for the love of God; but instead, you look ahead, and decode the view immediately.
The grass is high and the place wide. Youâre right where the field begins, the road more narrow here, only really enough for cyclists and walkers. You roll your eyes, getting off as you tell him, âYouâre terrible. Weâre already here.â
He laughs, dropping the bike to the side carelessly before he reaches for your messed up hair. Fixes at least the front of it, flattening it in the back. Youâre glad thereâs no mirror around.
Then, he proceeds to grab your hand, a finger pointing to the place and says, âLook around.â
You do. Itâs widely open and empty. A decent amount of flowers; you imagine a plethora of them in the summer and the spring. Now that fall is in full effect and itâs a little colder here than on your coastal vacation, you reckon that this isnât usually all how the field looks.
But itâs beautiful. In the far, far back, you see the forest expand. Slightest traces of autumn foliage. The leaves will fall and entirely bare the trees soon.
âThis is so pretty,â you say.
âRight?â
âWas this the surprise?â
âI mean,â he cards his fingers through his hair, but as he grabs the willow wicker from the larger cycle basket, the mane is blown back into his sight just a moment later, âyeah. But the actual surprise is a bit further down the field. Come.â
He guides the way, and you put your all into deciphering what he might be hinting at, only for him to say, âDonât look so hard. You will see it in a moment anyway.â
The laugh he elicits is sweet, a thumb touching the back of your hand. Your shoulders drop in relaxation, and you shift your attention to the grass and the flowers, trying not to stomp on any of those that are still left for this fall.
A couple feet forward, you tell him, âYou know I still need to meet Gureum.â
âI know. He was with Ria since we canât really take care of him when weâre away.â
âYou could take him to the city.â
âIâd do anything to be able to. But Gureum is⊠a free dog. He wouldnât enjoy life in a smaller apartment after running around for so long.â
Ah⊠You feel the opposite still; jumped from a large cage into a homey, sheltered cube happily. But you get it; the freedom here doesnât compare to a crowded city, does it?
âBut,â Jungkook continues, âRia said sheâd bring him over this noon, so he should be there when we get home.â
âDamn. Why am I more excited about this than necessary?â
âOh, you should be. I am, too⊠heâs my old boy.â
The oxymoron grants you a smile; to a parent, a baby stays a baby. Most of the time, at least. Jungkook feels something for Gureum, and even a stranger, lost and unknowing, could piece this bit together within a heartbeat.
âHeâs old?â you wonder.
âHeâs twenty years old. A bit slower now but⊠the same amount of love in his heart.â
One shall learn how to love and be kind from Jeon Jungkook. Then again, heâd be an excellent example, but a bad teacher. Wouldnât know what to say. Wouldnât be able to really pick out what makes him so pure-hearted.
He just is⊠He just is.
âI canât fucking wait,â you say, inspirited.
The sight changes along with his expressions as you walk down the field. From happiness to a smile to excitement and then contentment. The flowers mostly disappear, giving way to something you donât really recognise.
Orderly rows, bright green leaves and⊠more plants? As you inbreathe the air, however, you swear you recognise the sweet and fresh scent. Even from here, itâs distinct and special.
And when you trudge closer, finally glancing down, you understand.
JungkookâŠ
He took you strawberry picking.
You see them low on the ground, clustered, ripe and red. Pretty. Enough to warrant a dozen adjectives; yet, you only whisper, âWow.â
He waits⊠then waits more. Lets your eyes scan the area and the fruits, permits you to take in what he probably reckons youâve never seen before in this form. And heâs right â you havenât.
âYou like it?â he questions. âI was unsure, like⊠maybe youâre underwhelmed?â
Your head turns towards him at light speed. âWhat? Iâm not. Iâve never seen anything like this before,â you confirm, repeating your thoughts, âI am definitely not underwhelmed. This is⊠this is something my younger self craved.â
âOhâ Really? How so?â
You hum. Think back to late nights in the back of your bed, a room larger than what you needed, yet smaller than your imagination. Smaller than your heart.
âI read stories,â you tell him, âfairy tales. Watching tales of love in the countryside. We donât have these places in the city, do we?â
Jungkookâs hand, on your back a second ago, travels up to the back of your neck, touching it gently. âI guess youâd have to find a farm.â He stares ahead where you do, still standing there, unmoving. Then, âAngel?â
âYeah.â
âYou said you went on a field trip to a farm, right?â
âI⊠can only really remember once in school. Kids were shitty.â You spoke about this once; last month, he promised youâd see Riaâs farm, too. Funny that she actually did show you. âAnd my parents werenât really interested in that stuff. Which I do kinda get because many city people arenât.â
âMhm, I can understand.â He shuffles his feet, presumably a little sad for you, regarding the long row of strawberries stretching to his right. Youâre about to crouch and try without a clue what to do when he, instead of commenting on things much more, asks, âOkay, so. Wanna pick strawberries?â
âYes!â You rub your hands, taking a step forward, but pausing again; you could start anywhere. âWill you show me how?â
âOf course.â He hums, looking for an easy spot with an accumulation of easy-to-pick fruits; then, he lifts his jeans by a couple inches and lowers his body. âLook. You can crouch or kneel.â
You give your clothes a lookover. Just some everyday jeans; they should be able to take some dirt. In actuality, though, you mightâve joined him on the ground anyway. So you do, kneeling with your hands on your thighs, obediently listening.
âYou look so cute.â He chuckles, the back of his fingers barely grazing your cheek for a moment. As he sniffles, his chin nods towards the plants, hands reaching for them. âSo. You gently pull the leaves aside and just pick the strawberries. Avoid those that arenât red, though, okay?â
His pinky touches parts of an unripe strawberry still in the ground, and he explains, âYouâll know that oneâs ripe when it comes off easily. Like this,â he tugs at it, âisnât ripe. Wonât come off so well. Mmmh. Letâs try this one.â
You follow his movements until he settles for a particularly pretty and seemingly juice berry; with ease, he plucks it off by grasping the stem and twisting a little, and says, âSee? You could eat this one right now. But⊠basket?â You shove it towards him and he throws the berry inside. âWeâll wash it before that.â
Itâs quiet and sweet here as he works on explaining the process to you. An atmosphere you havenât ever witnessed anywhere before. Itâs probably different in the spring, but youâre alone here; even if someoneâs around somewhere, you canât see them from where you sit.
And it helps you focus: on how concentrated he looks, lower lip pouting, crouching easily with his sweater sleeves rolled up. Itâs unusual how his tattooed hand works on the plants. Your first imagination of such a task always involves straw hats and dungarees.
âTry it, too,â he then instructs.
He puts a gentle palm on your back as you get up from kneeling, now crouching as he is, and cast about for a couple good pieces. Whenever you think youâve found one, you seek confirmation in his eyes, repeating, âIs this okay?â
And he always promises, âYouâre doing well. Look,â he inspects one of your choices, âpicking the best even.â
âYouâll have to eat mine, then.â
âSure will. I knew youâd be so good at this.â
Youâre surprised; you never saw yourself doing this, even though you yearned for a life so different than the one you lived. Until you stepped off his bicycle twenty minutes ago, you had never come up with such an idea. All the more reason to be thankful to him.
But you do wonder why heâd perceive something like this far before you did, so you ask, âReally? Why?âÂ
He uttered the words so casually, pupils fixated on the basket; he might not have noticed how immediately you reacted. Because he hums now, looking at you with immense eyes, matter-of-factly spelling out, âBecause youâre gentle. This called for you.â
Because youâre gentle. Because youâre gentle.
The reasoning, so clear to him, repeats in your mind. Itâs not as obvious to you; itâs been a while since you thought of your qualities, and in the last months, being gentle often meant the same to you as quietly enduring.
So youâre touched, silenced by the lump in your throat; such an easy sentence, but so filled with knowledge about a person that only truly occurs with the purest of affections.
As you stare at him, you feel the fondness spreading over your countenance as much as the leaves tickling your ankle; you hold the current strawberry delicately as you conclude, âThatâs why you brought me here, yeah?â
âThat too.â
Oh.
âWhat else?â
âYou canât do this every day,â he argues, âI want to show you new places and things.â
You graze the vulnerable skin of the strawberries collecting in the basket, watching it fill enough to feed a couple people. Grabbing it, you lift your body with a smile. For a minute, your knee aches from the crouching, and your brain gathers the sensations into one to create another core memory.
Lost for words, you merely tell him, âThank you, Kook, IâŠâ You heave the basket to your chest, touching his hand as he rises, too. âHow do you even come up with all this?â
âHow I come up with it? Hmm⊠I guess you make it easy to do.â He laughs, and you follow, reading your mind as he voices the same thought flashing through your brain. âI know Iâll be so nostalgic about this someday. In ten years, maybe.â
Cheeks hot despite the autumn wind, you register the butterflies immediately. Right under the basket, underneath your skin, like a swarm awaking from metamorphosis. The fact that he thinks ahead like this, paints a distant future with you⊠wanting you for this long drives you insane.
Jungkookâs voice always lacks uncertainty when it comes to you.
Mellow when he speaks to you, gentle even when he asks, âMore?â
âMmmh⊠yes. Can do a few more. And itâs fun.â So you do; picking and plucking until you can barely carry the basket anymore, already wondering what to do with the bunch until you pop the idea, âCan we eat some of these?â
âNow?â
âYeah.â
âOf course. Gotta wash them, though.â
Which isnât as easy as it sounds. It takes you a good moment to find a water tap on the wide field; one only crosses your way when you travel back to where the bike stands, proving as dysfunctioning and broken.
And only once youâve reached nearly the end of the field and already detect the narrow path that you cycled along from afar, your luck strikes. You wash a handful of your harvest and place them neatly at the top of the rest, right above a handkerchief Jungkook whipped out from his pocket.
The grass isnât high everywhere; you find an ideal spot for a brief, spontaneous picnic, pleasant and comfortable; a fluffy blanket of nature. You watch ladybugs and ants crawl over blades of grass; not too much more, considering the season.
Jungkook works through the content of the basket, soon holding a piece to your mouth, âTake this,â he says, pushing it through your parted lips; waits until youâve chewn most of it. âAnd?â
The initial taste is good, but the aftertaste dramatically makes your world quiver. Whatever youâve known about food and fruits so far must have been a hoax, because you canât fake the way your eyes widen and your voice raises in pitch, delighted as you say, âThis is⊠so damn good.â
âRight?â
âThey donât taste like this in the city!â
âYeah,â Jungkook chooses a smaller one from the collection, throwing it into his mouth as a whole, âthese are fresh. No bullshit berries.â
âNo bullshit berries indeed. So good.â
âYou picked good ones!â
âBut this is a curse, too!â you exclaim, urging a laugh out of him that he transforms into a kiss to your temple, observing as you munch the strawberries as though encountering them for the first time. And you pout as you say, â Keep me from eating them all. I want to take the rest home.â
âSure, donât worry. We can put them somewhere and take them back on the last day.â
âHm? Oh. No, I meant today. Home, your houseâŠâ You realise your mistake. âSorry.â
Only, he doesnât deem it a mistake for a moment. He didnât think youâd feel this cosy this fast â but it was what heâd hoped and opted for, so itâs a win either way. His family as your home, him as your home.
He thinks, you finally do feel at home. It took you years of endurance, didnât it?
âHome, yeah?â he mutters. âAn apology is the last thing Iâd want, angel. Youâre home, alright.â
You wish you had an equally meaningful answer; whatever you might babble now, you donât think you could do justice to the soft tone he settled on. You canât even outdo his gaze, so round, eyes so big on his otherwise clear-cut face.
What you can do is smile. Draw closer until your shoulders touch. About to taste the strawberry-flavoured, red tinted lips before a sudden motion drowns your plans.
The bunny flits over your feet; youâre sure it jumps onto yours for a moment and then uses them to push itself off into the grass, journeying on. The yelp it elicits out of you merges with the startled sound Jungkook emits.
His elbow lightly hits the side of your breast, and you pull your legs into your chest as self-defence. But itâs gone as fast as it appeared, and barely a second later, youâre watching it hop away, little ears disappearing in the distance.
âWell,â Jungkook breathes, âat least thatâs normal. Iâll tell you about my snake encounters later some day.â
A hand on your chest, you exclaim, âOh my God. You know what?â You calm down your lowkey panting, hand falling back into your lap, âMaybe you were right. Weâre home for sure.â
âOh⊠yeah?â
âYeah! Totally looked like you⊠thought we were back home.â
Jungkook laughs out, head throwing back, and then, amidst his giggle, he throws a âShut upâ at you. The tackle nearly pushes you to the ground before his lips attack your face all over; making out on a countryside field wasnât on your bucket list, but you sure as hell will add it only to tick it off.
His tongue really does taste like strawberries. His lips are sweet; the hand on your waist careful yet explorative. If the grass wasnât this cruel, tickling all over your body, youâd probably remain here for the next hour.
Let him strip you bare. Kiss you into the earth. Nobodyâs here; you donât think youâve ever fantasised of such a moment before, but suddenly, you donât mind loving him right here.
But maybe heâs fostering the same thoughts as you, pulling back with a little groan when the blades prick his cheeks and closed eyes. Endurance isnât easy right now; and you have a lot planned for the rest of the day anyway.
So you pull yourself together, and nod when he finally asks, âWanna go?â
Somehow, it takes you a little longer to get home than it did to reach the field. Perhaps because heâs cycling uphill now, or maybe because the sun is at its zenith, warming the colder day. The comfort makes you want to stay in this moment, have his voice laughing next to your ear.
On a bike swaying when he loses focus, rolling dangerously to tease you on purpose.
And when you get back to his house, youâre greeted with yet another surprise. Itâs fluffy and sweet and white like a cloud, living up to its name. A tongue sticks out, tail wiggling, right at the door when Jungkook opens it.
Gureum is small, smiling as far as youâre aware of a dogâs joy. You once heard that upon seeing their owner, the same hormone floods their tiny bodies as a humanâs when they fall in love. Gureum must feel much like you do when Jungkook comes home.
You understand.
Understand when Gureum jumps up to Jungkookâs legs, licking his humanâs face when your boyfriend picks him up. Jungkookâs voice changes so much that you barely recognise it; youâve never heard him talk like this. Higher, lovelier, slurred to imitate the language babies speak.
The affection is unfiltered and crystal clear.
Jungkookâs smile brightens until it reaches its maximum, bunny teeth flashing, the laugh erupting so deeply from his chest. Authentic. Eyes nearly closed as he calls Gureumâs name, plays with his face, as if communicating with a child.
Twenty years, and he still thinks of him as his baby. Sometimes, all golden stays.
âBaby,â he says after a while once Gureum has stopped licking his face, introducing, âthis is my Gureum.â
You set the basket down next to the door, reaching a careful hand to Gureumâs head; but heâs cooperative. Lets you easily. âHi Gureum,â you whisper, ânice to finally meet you. Youâre so cute!â
âHeâs a little sick these days, but,â Jungkook gazes down again, kissing Gureumâs ears. âHe gets through it so well, doesnât he? Yes, he does.â
The laugh is real. The affection is real. Tender and deep-rooted. He smooches him again, and then puts a cheek to his warm fur. Youâve never seen him like this. Youâve never fallen deeper.
âI missed you so much, too, buddy,â he says, âso, so much.â
You swear you see Gureum cuddling into Jungkookâs chest. Doesnât move even when youâve settled in the living room, resting from the journey. Youâd drafted plans for the rest of today, but it doesnât seem theyâll separate, and you donât want them to.
You can wait. Things can wait.
You sit by Jungkookâs side as he pets him, his head soon on your shoulder, one hand in the white fur, the other holding yours. Itâs how you remain for a bit.
In hindsight, albeit never having plucked strawberries before, today wasnât some grand adventure across the world. You didnât strike a deal at work or fight off some paparazzi hiding in an unexpecting corner. And you didnât climb a mountain.
But you guess thatâs what you craved all your life. Somehow, this is better than any crazy escapade.
The serenity that comes with a mundane moment. A love that consumes you and a love that helps you commit the most casual of acts to memory.
Maybe this is enough. An old couch lightly creaking as you move; a cloud blinking as you caress its head. Surprises to help you experience saccharine afternoons.
You remain for a bit, and then remain a little longer.
Ria came through the door not too long after youâd returned, ready for the evening plans. Sheâd promised to accompany the two of you to the centre of the town, giving you a tour of the most important and ancient of places.
You learned about the townâs only drapery seamstress and the best flower shop. Much as it so occurs in 70s and 80s movies, you met the son of a mechanic. He told you heâd be inheriting the company one day, and that it was okay because he never intended to leave anyway.
Riaâs eyes suspiciously widened as she spoke to him, and she lingered for a moment longer than you did after your farewell. The guy had forgotten that there was work to do by the time she finally bid him goodbye.
Jungkookâs eyes squinted at the sight, but not even he could hide his endeared smile. Pressed into Riaâs shoulder with a teasing hum.
You rewarded yourself for the dayâs many steps with some soft serve in front of the city hall, talking and delivering anecdotes until the sun started setting.
As the evening concludes, youâre the last to appear at dinner. His family is already sitting here, politely waiting and sweetly welcoming once youâve washed up and hopped into the dining room with a vibrant smile.
Youâre in a good mood. Evidently so; the scent of strawberries and the taste of his mouth still linger, and youâre still coming down from the high when you chime, âIâm sorry for being late.â
âDonât worry about it at all,â his mother assures, âwe just sat down.â
âI really wanted to help, though.â
Itâs true. His mother has been nothing but the ultimate host. You wanted to prove productive and useful, but then Eun had called to check in on you and delayed your plans.
âHmm, you know what?â his mother utters, pouring you some Jjamppong. âThe wedding isnât until one, so we could get up earlier and make strawberry jam in the morning? If youâd like.â
The wedding has been in the back of your mind constantly, slowly sneaking to the forefront with an intense nervousness. Youâre timid because of how itâll turn out, how people will perceive you, if theyâll talk to you. How Jungkook will look at you.
How much love might spread; how much certain people might tone down their resentment.
Learning yet another skill such as making jam might just be the best distraction. So you nod wildly, only interrupted when Jungkook asks, âCan I join, too?â
But you change the movements of your head to a shake, jesting about quality time and whatnot until he surrenders, âAlright. Way to shut out the boyfriend and son, I see you.â
âSpeaking of food,â you say, pausing, slurping a big bite of noodles; theyâre spicier than youâre used to from city restaurants. Better, too. You point your chopsticks to your dinner. âMay I have the recipe?â
As his father and brother indulge in their food, acting as quiet listeners, his mother answers, âIâm sure Jungkook has it. Iâm offended he never cooked it for you, since they had it a lot growing up.â
âOffended indeed. You learned this?â
âOh, this?â Jungkookâs eyebrows, hitherto sporting a crease between them â a telltale sign of a well-eating Jeon â relax. âYeah! I was learning when I was like, what, fifteen?â He seeks approval from his mother, who soon nods. âI fully butchered it when I tried it for the first time.â
Junghyun chuckles. âEven I remember.â
âYeah, you refused to help!â Jungkook complains, whining when Junghyun hits his brotherâs elbow with his own. âAnd I burned my wrist and had the wound for ages. Couldnât do much in P.E.â
Much as yesterday, it seems his father hasnât learned; because as you feared, itâs only now when he melts and intervenes. You almost surmise heâs provoking on purpose when he queries, âWhen you were fifteen when? I canât remember any wounds.â
Jungkook scoffs. âAre you telling me Iâm making it up again?â
âNo, Iâm just saying I donât remember.â
âThatâs because you were at work and didnât pick up my many calls. Mom was sick that week⊠It's why I wanted to cook and learn at all.â He nods towards his brother. âJunghyun remembers because he went to a friend and then rushed home to bring me to the hospital. None of it sounds familiar to you, does it?â
Jungkook lists and narrates the happening with a flat voice, as if recalling items still left to purchase for tomorrowâs meal. Heâs stirring his soup and his father is stirring everyone elseâs, uncaring as he responds, âI didnât know.â
âItâs fine. You probably didnât care.â
âNonsense.â
Another, âAs much as the last years,â added to the mix, you opt for his hand under the table again, but he pulls away. Youâre left dumbfounded, looking at him in surprise. This has never happened before; heâs never been upset in such a way.
As if to signal, âItâs fine. Itâs whatever. Let me deal with this.â
But he canât deal with it; you see the beginning signs of a rising chest and a decreasing appetite. Nobody just plays with the content of such a rich soup for this long; least of all a foodie like him. Heâs busy looking at it, propping his elbow on the table.
You stare for a little longer, and then turn back to your food.
It sounds like itâs over. And itâs quiet; maybe you could interrupt with something else, change the course of the conversation. But his father isnât done yet.
No. You notice everybody elseâs irritation when he opens his mouth to speak again. They sigh, forming a line with their lips when he emits a question that leaves even you in disbelief, âWhy are you saying this?â
âCome on,â his mother tries, wanting to ease the tension, but Jungkook is faster.
âWhat? I mean, I donât know?â he starts, once again an equal amount of fear and annoyance in his voice. âI barely ever hear from you, Dad.â With each word, he grows more daring, at the end of his capacities when he eventually curses, âWe live in the same city, for fuckâs sakeââ
âJungkookââ Junghyun interrupts.
âWhat? Itâs true. Even the last hundred times, Mom visited alone. Couldâve at least come over and said Hi to my girlfriend.â
âIâm here now and saying Hi, though,â you try, weakly smiling.
âAnd heâs here, too. How grand of him.â
Fuck.
âStop the attitude,â his father warns, âyou couldâve come over plenty of times, too.â
âAre you hearing yourself? News flash, I did. I tried to talk to you, too. If I was still fourteen, Iâd still be apologising. Oh, or is that what you want? Is it what you want?â
âWhat are you talking abââ
âIâm talking about how I really wanted to tell you about a shit ton of things. Like when Nara and I broke up,â amidst the already tense moment, your heart pains for a second, âor when I graduated. Or when I was having a really fucking hard time this summer and needed somebody and then when I fell in love and needed to tell somebody, and⊠where are you all the time anyway? Who fucking knows â I donât!â
It worsens and worsens. Crashes and burns; every word splits the air in the room. You donât know how to save the moment anymore; maybe youâre not supposed to. You can only lend him courage. Perhaps heâs supposed to finally say all this.
But itâs hard to listen.
Because as the waterfall of grief cascades, you hear Jungkookâs voice quiver. Heâs about to break. Right here, in front of everybody, youâre about to witness the woe this man inflicted on him all his life.
And you see it; see parts of this very torture when his father reveals who heâs become over the decade. The one Jungkook described to you; empty of empathy and understanding.
Because again, he renders you in shock when he speaks again. Fucking nasty, nitpicking and focusing on only one aspect, attacking somebodyâs pride.
âGet a grip over yourself! You graduated in arts â you didnât conquer the world. And you hold a grudge whenââ
âI hold a grudge? I do? Youâre the fucking one who shunned a kid because of a mistake andââ
âI do not want to hear about this. Not again.â
As their voices grow, so does your heartbeat. The anxiety is unbearable; you can barely imagine the one spreading through Jungkookâs chest. His face is red, neck hot, veins about to pop. If you could, youâd slap your hands over your ears.
But you canât listen away; canât ignore the panic, either.
âPlease, stop,â you say, moving, but Jungkook frees himself of your grip again, stands. You attempt again, âStop it, baby.â
But he wonât listen, mind somewhere else entirely.
âYou wonât blame me for shit you did years ago, you canâtââ his father insists, butâŠ
âOh, fuck off.â
âWatch your moââ
âOr whaââ
His fatherâs face, similarly scarlet as his sonâs, grows a shade darker at the shameless counter, and his large hand lifts in slow motion for you. Comes down with a thump, intending to slap the wooden table, but hitting the edge of his small kimchi bowl again.
It flies up inches into the air before suddenly rolling off the table, aligning with you and soon falling onto your lower arm with a painful impact. It topples down onto your knee before it meets the ground and shatters into a handful of pieces.
You gasp and shriek, more out of surprise than pain; but Jungkookâs reaction is immediate. He bolts towards you, protecting you from whatever danger might be left. Pulls you off your seat and away from the shards as dead silence befalls the room.
Itâs filled with your shaky breaths and the way his mother and brother shove their chairs back, hands reaching for you. Jungkook keeps you out of their reach. Looks at his father for a couple seconds; then to the kimchi on the ground; then back to him.
You canât see him properly until you move to glance at him, wanting to keep his anger low, but⊠you donât think you can do much anymore.
The fire in his eyes is blue.
And his voice is strained but furious when he finalises through gritted teeth, âYou are fucking insane.â
This time, the man doesnât answer. You hear his wife utter something as if scolding him before she speaks up and offers to clean up the mess. But Jungkook shakes his head, âNo need. He can do it.â
Then, turning to his father, he repeats, âYouâre fucking insane. Youâre a terrible parent and we all know and only you canât admit it to yourself. I just didnât think youâd develop into a terrible person, too.â
Still long fingers around your wrist, he moves you towards the stairs, rounding off the fight with one more, âDonât fucking get near me or her, do you understand? Fuck.â
So many words exchanged, but it was the stupid kimchi covering your pyjamas to make him topple over the edge. You feel guilty, but you donât. Itâs the man downstairs that has so fucking much to reflect on.
God. You wanted this vacation to relax Jungkook, to soothe you, to turn the first painful half of the year into something glorious.
ButâŠ
Then again, didnât you expect this? Werenât you scared of this?
Didnât you fear the exact manner in which he now leads you to his room, in which the slamming of the door rings in your ears, his hands in his hair?
Heâs let you go and stranded in his room. Itâs odd, the way you stand here, clothes dirty and the grief dirtier.Â
You walk towards him cautiously, watching him shiver, and reach for his wrists in turn this time. Itâs a featherlight touch, but you feel the tremble underneath your fingers. And you instantly notice when he starts coming undone. When his lips shake, too.
Even with his head lowered, you recognise the wet waterline, and how it takes a handful more heavy breaths until you hear the first sob. You hug him. You hug him right away. Hold him close and closer.
You make a weak attempt at pulling him to the bed, but heâs already in the process of breaking down, his body getting heavier, falling. The carpet offers solace as his knees suddenly hit the ground. His arms hold onto your hips and his face buries in your chest.
When his breathing turns irregular, so does yours; you feel like the world is splitting and the sky crashing down.Â
His leg comes in touch with your messed up clothes, and when he looks up into your eyes, heâs already crying. A trail of tears courses down his cheeks as his pupils suddenly shake, looking for something, asking you, âDid he hurt you, baby?â
âKookâŠâ
âLet me see, you must be hurt, youâ you were just wearing these thin ass slippers without socks, right? The fucking bowl shattered andâŠâ
âIâm okay, Kookie. Iâm not hurt, I promise.â
âNo, but⊠it fell on you, it mustâ did it bruise your knee?â he continues hectically, inspecting you, never seeing anything. He cradles your face, still crying and sniffling, shoving his pain aside to make sure, âPlease tell me if anything hurts, âkay? I will get something, Iâllâ dunno, fucking smash his fucking face, Iâllââ
His mind is going haywire. A proper downward spiral, and you donât know how to stop it. What the fuckâ what the fuckâŠ
âJungkookâ Jungkook, please,â you try, lowering his hand, but he wonât stop searching for signs of injury. âBaby, please.â
âWhy is he like this? I just⊠man, I am trying, angel.â His voice falls at the last word; your heart fractures at the same time as it tries to keep his intact. âI am trying so hard in life for him to like me, and you⊠youâre here, so I thought heâd behave and insteadââ
âI know. Itâs okay.â
Itâs not, but you canât say it. Canât say how much the meaning behind your stained clothes hurts. How much it connects to what the weeping man in your arms feels; how he looked forward to this, planning ahead, a surprise for everyday without anticipating such ruin.
And heâs as clueless as you. More broken than you ever anticipated. Resembling the burst dish one floor beneath you, holding you like an anchor, crying into your chest.
He keeps repeating the same things as you repeat yours, soon mumbling his words of trying and trying and constantly trying. Of wanting to be loved. Attempting to understand if itâs too much to ask for. Is it?
Why canât he love me?
And you whisper back, He loves you. He does.
Itâs easy, falling into such misery. There were moments not too far in the past where you were on the receiving end of such pain, and he was your life vest. You donât know if youâre keeping him above the surface as well as he did, because you keep susurrating the hopeful mantra to him.
But he keeps believingâ
âNo⊠no, he never fucking did. Whâwho treats someone like this?â
âSome people forget, you know⊠how to show affection. Sometimes, they deem their pride more important. It says nothing about you.â You lift his chin, heartbroken upon detecting his reddened eyes. âEveryone else in this stupid world loves you.â
âYour mother doesnât eitherâŠâ
âMy mother? The woman who hates literally everyone?â You smile, trying to make him imitate it, but he doesnât. You brush his cheeks and then his hair. âI do. I love you. I knew who you were even when I was unbiased.â
âDidnât you⊠hate me, too?â
Once again, you try a faint smile. Not for him to join in, but because youâre reminded of a foolish friendship; it had already long bloomed into more when youâd finally named it one.
âNot for a second,â you say.
Break in discussion. Heâs still shedding tears, snivelling. Stays frozen like this, all of him unable to move except for his lips. They mutter, âI donât ever want you to get hurt. He can do whatever the fuck he wants with me, butâŠâ
âYeah. Iâm okay. Weâre okay.â
âI love you,â he maffles weakly, âI love you. I love you.â
âI know. I love you, too.â
You feel as though offering solace to a child. As if heâs shrunk into what he used to be, in the very room he used to sulk. The trauma still belongs to a kid, and when hurt, heâll turn him into one, too.
You hate it. Hate that his sorrow still belongs to such a young heart. That he never processed it.
Before you came here, you spoke about it. And once youâre back in the city, youâll have to figure things out further; the time constraints just before you drove away didnât allow you to take much into consideration.
You can only cry now, canât you? Detest the dampness in your own eyes. Stay right here until some sign occurs, lifting you up from the ground.
And it does fifteen minutes later.
The knock is gentle, just two of them, and you tell Jungkook to wait, that youâd be back in a minute. As you stand, his back is bent, his head lowered. As if heâs sleepwalking or slowly fainting.
You shut your eyes for a second; then open them again.
Behind the door, his mother awaits. In her soft hands, sheâs balancing a tray holding some food. She lifts it towards you, tells you, âThe two of you barely ate.â
Upon a closer look, you realise that her eyes are swollen, too. The view nearly forces you to tear up again, your face seethingly hot. You want to hug her. Want to tell her youâre sorry. Instead, you only touch her shoulder, and mutter a grateful thank you.
âItâs okay.â
She sounds so pained. You wonder if she said something to her husband. Reprimanded him, cried for his son, grieved a childhood and life that couldâve been.
But she doesnât say any of it, and neither do you mention it. You only agree, âIt will be. Are we still making jam tomorrow?â
âYes. Tell Jungkook he can come if he wants to.â
âYeah⊠I was thinking that, too.â You stare down to your food, never noticing how she peeks past your shoulder. Sees her son unmoving on the floor; she knows she canât do more than you are right now. So she only nods when you repeat, âThank you so much.â
You wish her a good night, bringing the food to where your boyfriend sits. Put it down in front of him.
âSit upright, baby?â you ask him, crushed by the sight of swollen cheeks and red-rimmed eyes. His lips are parted, his breathing still stagnant; he only stares at his food until you push the tray closer to him and say, an attempt at a smile, âLetâs eat a bit. Mother-in-law brought it for us.â
No smile back, but a sniffle. The crying subsides just a bit as a shaking hand grabs the spoon, slurping the soup before he can even think of the noodles. He eats a little, slowly, surely. You help when he needs it, feed him a bite, encourage him to one more.
Every other minute, he cries again. You wipe the tears away, try to make him eat more.
His father fucked him up. You knew about the issues and demons Jungkook combatted. Of course his mentality suffered; of course there are parts of him that might never heal⊠But you never quite understood the full effect.Â
His father fucked him up good; got him so bad. Parts of both of them are so ultimately ruptured, arenât they?
Whenever he winds down, you eat in silence, right there on the ground on top of the old carpet. When he canât swallow anymore, still some left in his bowl â Jungkook barely ever doesnât finish his food â you move up to the bed with him.
You kiss his hair repeatedly, as if it could heal him just a little, to even the tiniest percentage. You donât know how much of an effective bandage you are to him, but you know youâre doing at least something.
Because he whispers another I love you before the gut-wrenching sounds of his sobs have finally faded out, still echoing in the room. His tiny, shrunk voice says, âIâm looking forward to tomorrow with you.â
And somehow, it pains you even more. The hopeful tone; the wish for a day to not hurt.
âMe too, baby,â you say, âitâs nobody but us, okay?â
âYeah⊠yeah.â
And thatâs it. Itâs all you can do for now; understanding the heavy heart the night cursed you with.
But as you drift away, you keep pleading. Pleading and pleading and pleading for a better tomorrow without getting a promise back.
To your chagrin but least of your surprise, Jungkook doesnât join your jam-making session the next morning.
When you stirred awake for a little bit, eyes still sleep-drunk and body falling, your phone flashed seven thirty in the morning. Not ready to start the day yet and doubting anybody else had gotten out of bed, you cuddled into his body, and he, while deep in his slumber, must still have noticed.
Pulled you in more, smacking his lips and sighing a little, a warm hand at the back of your head. Secured in his embrace, you fell asleep again.
Only to awake two hours later without him by your side. Youâre already washed up and somewhat sobered up from sleep, and youâve looked on the first and ground floor. You canât find him.
His mother informed you that she and her husband would be leaving to join the wedding earlier, to help out with the preparations and make sure the plans all sit. You offered your help, but she claimed theyâd be okay, and that you can still use the morning after the jam lesson to rest.
Perhaps Jungkook has embarked on a journey then, using this time to do something in the early morning.Â
Once youâve walked into the kitchen, greeting his mother with a smile and a good morning, you ask, âNervous for the wedding?â
âMmmh, kind of,â she answers, locking the phone she held, putting it aside to sip her tea, âbut it should be good since we took care of most of the stuff pretty well. Itâll be wonderful. Except the damn Wedding March â we couldnât settle on any song but this.â
âI canât wait. I bet itâll be beautiful.â You take a seat in front of her, hearing the sounds of the TV and quiet conversations. Among the voices, you recognise two, but his is neither of them. Youâre not interested in joining. So you look at her, scratching your temple as you inquire instead, âWhereâs Kook gone?â
Her forefinger points downwards, another blow to the tea and another swig. âBasement. I brought him some coffee, but he seemed busy and quiet, so I left him there. But,â her voice grows louder, enthusiastic, âyou can go! Maybe heâll be okay with that?â
HmmâŠ
âWhat did he go down for?â you ask.
âI think he was looking for something.â Now, she lowers her tone again, lower arms on the table. âHe also just⊠did that sometimes when he was younger, or after a fight.â
After a fight.
Like the breakdown last night. You understand.
You should probably walk down and check â but then again, this has seemingly been a coping mechanism ever since he was younger. So perhaps, you need to let him be for a little; give him a chance to entangle his thoughts and regain some peace.
You repeat your decision to her and she nods in understanding, throwing a glance to a huge jar on the kitchen counter. Youâre ready to deliver an answer before she even asks, âWant to help out then?â
âSure!â
The process is a patient one. Reminds you of when Jungkook told you how to pick the strawberries yesterday; gently, sweetly, with a tender touch and an even more delicate voice.
Jungkookâs mother takes the fruits out of the jar with care, explains to you to mash them and cook the jam with absolute soothing composure. The minutes pass so serenely that you imagine preparing meals with her on a cold winter evening, pleasing your soul to ensure not only a good nightâs sleep but lasting quiet of the soul, too.
You add the sugar and lemon juice to your mix, stirring and boiling the delicatesse before you put it in sterilised jars. She shows you how to sterilise them at all; you didnât think or know that such a step was necessary at all.
The making of it doesnât take too long; forty-five minutes tops. As you scanned the internet just before entering the kitchen almost an hour ago, it said it takes barely half an hour. But she demonstrated it all to you slowly, unrushed.
Youâre thankful.
âHave you ever made jam before?â she asks as you admire your creation.
You shake your head. âNo⊠I donât think Iâve tried such a thing at all. Itâs fun making things on your own. I mean, I do like to cook sometimes, but Iâm nowhere on Jungkookâs level, I donât think.â
She chuckles, nodding as if to confirm. Then clarifies, âYes, heâs enjoyed being involved in the kitchen ever since he was a teen. Especially before he left town and realised heâd have to cook on his own.â
You giggle with her, like with a friend or a trusted figure. Itâs so consoling, talking to her. Fun, smiles intact, still present when she asks, âHow are the two of you doing? I mean, you did move in together quite fast, so Iâm just wondering.â
Yes; she doesnât need to spell it out. You get it â youâve heard about this.
So-called relationship experts claim that taking decisions in the honeymoon phase isnât too healthy, warping your sense of reality and perception of the other person. You donât disagree, but you guess in this caseâŠ
âHonestly, itâs been good,â you respond. âWe have a couple heated evenings where we argue about stuff, but⊠itâs been healing. And he offered to move in when I really needed it.â
âYes, Jungkook told me.â Oh. âYou werenât at a very good place before. Please donât mind.â You shake your head in reassurance, urging her to go on. Itâs his mother; itâs fine to tell her if any of you is struggling. âIâm glad youâre there for each other because he wasnât at a good place either.â
You nearly donât dare to ask; in a way, she might know her son better than you know your boyfriend. Maybe; maybe not. You fear a disheartening answer when you ask, âDo you think he is now?â
But she, careful as ever, tells you honestly, âItâll probably take time to get over things, butâ itâll be okay. Things seem a little better, though, if you want my neutral POV.â
âAh⊠okay. That helps.â You play with the white-dotted red band around the jar. Your mind circles around a million questions that only she might be able to answer; yet, cautiously, all you query is, âDo you ever⊠have you ever spoken to him? Or his dad? About all the thingsâŠâ
You reckon that if heâs talked about the two of you before, he probably mentioned spilling his secrets to you, too. At least from your perspective, itâs obvious that he entrusts her with his heart.
And once again, she affirms, âI have. Often. Even before the two of you came. Itâs why I told you to take your time getting here.â
Ah⊠Makes sense now. So thatâs why you had to roam the hotel until noon a couple days before. You sigh.
She continues, âIt just doesnât end well most of the time, so⊠And Iâm not a good talker. I donât know what to say anymore after so many years. Both want me on their side, though Jungkook never persists on it.â
Sheâs so wrong. Both she and him.
Jungkook has told you for months that heâs bad with words; yet, he comes in with every word ever written by any bard, singing poetry to you and bandaging your heart when needed.
You rememberâŠ
Iâm not good with words, baby. And I donât know how to ever properly verbalise something like this.
You sigh again. Tell her, âI understand. I also wouldnât expect you to go against either of them.â
âSure. But⊠It's difficult sometimes. Seeing how broken some of our bonds are.â
Youâve used and formed this word so many times before. Broken. For him, for you, for the world. Hearing somebody else share these sentiments and confirm your fears hurts.
And youâre out of words, wishing for a higher power to grant you a curing skill. If you could lift somebodyâs burden with a single touch, just the way youâre reaching out for her hand now, youâd be busy circling the globe at all times.
âIâm so sorry,â is all, however, you can offer.
You hate how helpless she is. You urge to say something more, to hug her and promise that the world always regains its colours at some point. But you remain like this, watching the jam in the jars; hearing her sayâ
âYou know. Jungkook has my number. I donât know how much you and your mother still talk, but⊠you can talk to me, too, if you ever need to. I mean, Iâm a mother.â She laughs at this part, raising a shoulder to her chin in pride, âAnd youâre part of him, so you can be part of us, too.â
Your eyes, locked onto the jar until now, flit up to her, and you blink to keep them dry, admitting without another thought, âI might actually cry.â
âOh. Awh,â she voices, lifting her hand from underneath yours to cover it again. âDonât. I didnât mean to be all kitsch. I meant it.â
Gathering your prior thoughts into words, you puff out a breath, sporting a reprimanding look as you say, âYouâre so wrong. You and your son, you always know what to say.â
Teeth flash again as she grins; she looks so innocent and pure. âWell, where do you think he got it from?â
ShitâŠ
âThank youâŠâ you mutter, body already twitching, yearning to bolt forwards until you finally dare to ask, âOkay. May I⊠Can I hug you?â
âMy goodness, love. You donât need to ask! Câmere.â
You instantly tear up when she pulls you in. Last time you met, she left a fleeting touch. You barely knew her then; in some way, you donât know her much now, either. But this⊠this is impactful.
The way she presses you into her; her chin on your shoulder. The slight pat and then the following rub up and down your shoulder blade. So warm; so salving.
One or two more pats, with a little more impact this time, she gently moves you back by your arms again, sucking in a breath as she suggests, âAlright. Wedding time, yes? We should start getting ready.â
âYes. ButâŠâ You hesitate, wonder how much you can interfere. But then you diminish your mental concerns, and simply utter, âIf you donât mind. May I suggest something?â
You walk down the steps to the basement.
The light is on; other than what mainstream movies might suggest, theyâve set up the interior of the basement prettily. The few furniture â a table and a couch chair, as well as a couple common chairs â is a light beige, the wallpapers light, flowery.
Heâs in the middle of the room, on the ground despite the many options to sit, sifting through pictures and objects lying around him. When he detects you, he flinches a bit, eyes big, moving suspiciously as if to hide something.
But you guess heâs just startled; and once he catches himself, he calls your name, wishing a sweet, âMorning, baby. Sorry for leaving the bed.â
âOh, hey. Itâs your house, you can do whatever you like. Besides, your mom and I had the time of our lives.â
He smiles brightly. You love, love, the wrinkles around his eyes. âMade some groundbreaking jam, yes?â
âYouâll see when you taste it.â You walk closer, recognising photo albums and frames. Yet, you ask, âWhat are you doing?â
âUhmmm, just looking through old stuff.â
The pictures are flipped, upside down from where you stand, so you round his body, legs folded on the floor. You come to a kneel, and just when youâre close enough, you see the pure sugar spilled in front of him.
Itâs in the form of fat baby cheeks. An open, surprised mouth. Then, in form of a photograph of a toddler crying. The same tremendous eyes and the same curve of his upper lip. A tilted smirk on one of them, just the one you know.
Theyâre adorable. You dissolve at the sight; at seeing him in a red vest, holding a half chewn corndog, tiny fingers forming a peace sign, and an unsure expression as if heâs seeing the world for the first time.
He does this often. Zone off like this.
Not rarely do you tease that heâs trudging through his first life, but he often refutes your theory with an immediate expression of shock. Chuckles back that it never feels like heâs loving you for the first time.
âWhy are you looking at these, Kook?â you ask, hands on his shoulder before you settle your chin on one of them, cheek to cheek.
âJust so. I knew there was a picture of my cousin somewhere, too. Look.â He shoves aside some of the photographs on top, fishing out a very old one. âThis is her. Gayoung.â
A lovely girl next to him, clearly older. Theyâre both holding car toys; heâs busy indulging in it, laughing, not noticing the flashing of the camera. But sheâs staring right into it, caught off guard, eyebrows high and mouth open.
âI canât believe sheâs getting married today,â Jungkook says. âSheâs like a daughter to my parents, but⊠I didnât get to talk that much with her anymore when she grew into an adult. Was more with Ria. And then I moved, too. But⊠itâs still crazy. I still remember her as a young but older sister.â
âOf course. Timeâs pace of passing is pretty strange. Very fast.â
âYeahâŠâ
He throws it back into the pile, shutting two of the handful of photo albums. Humming, he flips a couple pages of a third album; your eyes follow as he combs through them. You almost donât notice when he pauses, and when you do, you understand why.
Itâs another old picture, Jungkook tiny, mouth wide open to say something as he points towards the camera slash photographer. And heâs in the arms of somebody whoâs undeniably his father. The man looks more like Junghyun than Jungkook.
But they seem happy here. His big hands are firm on Jungkookâs body, holding him lovingly and smiling at him with even further tenderness.
Jungkook remains on it for only a split second, but you get it.
You replay his motherâs words in your mind, and suddenly, you remember; a revelation clears up like a sunny day after a fog, and God⊠you remember.
And still, you act like you donât. Like you havenât understood that heâs here to reminisce about a life when things were still okay; when he still felt loved. Reliving moments when shit hurt less. Of course heâs here; it makes sense, so directly after a fight.
He seeks comfort in moments he barely remembers to escape the pain he recently suffered.
Youâre out of damn words. This shouldnât be happening to anybody.
You hug him from behind, arms around his chest. Attempting to ease his possibly disturbed soul, you ask, âHey. Do you know that youâre the sweetest being alive? These pictures cause cavities. Good that you kept them from me.â
âOh, yeah?â He turns his head slightly, lips grazing your nose, warm breath falling on it. âComing from my munchkin herself.â
âI mean it! Youâre so cute. And look at these cheeks,â your finger gestures towards a chubby baby, âtheyâre still so soft, by the way.â
You press your face against his, squishing his scarred cheek, and he states under a laugh, âYouâre too much.â
âToo much of a fool for you, yes.â
He clicks his tongue, though playfully. You hear in his voice and see in his beam that heâs delighted, flattered, loving and loved. You ask, âAre you feeling okay now?â
To your relief, he nods. âIâm feeling better, I guess. Looking forward to the wedding. And your dress!â
âOh, I am, too. I was going to show it to your mom just before, but⊠I want you to be the first to see it.â
âAnd then you say Iâm not the luckiest man alive.â
âI just said Ashton Kutcher is. Mila Kunis is pretty cool.â
âShut up.â
You pause, watch him tidy up; after a minute, you tell him, âYou shouldâve joined when we made the jam. Couldâve been fun, too.â
âYeah⊠I mean I thought about it, but. Then I was like, maybe itâd be good for her to get to know you, like, unfiltered. Sheâs always careful not to be weird around me.â
âAh. Thatâs kinda sweet, though.â
âIsnât it?â
You nod against his cheek; then, drum lightly against his chest, a peck to his ear, getting to your feet a second later as you ask, âSo⊠are you coming up? Itâs a little after eleven. We should probably get ready soon.â
âYeah, Iâll be up in some. You should go first, though. Iâll need a bit less time.â
Youâre already taking steps towards the staircase leading up, but you canât refrain from throwing one last tease, âYou sure? Not sure with your skincare routine. Have you even eaten?â
âYes, I did. Donât be a brat.â
You lift your lips to a last provoking, tight-lipped smile before you ascend to his room. The dress is still almost flawless between your clothes. You heavily worried about damage in the few days you travelled, but aside from a few spots that need to be ironed out, itâs as gorgeous as ever.
Flattening out the creases with a borrowed iron, you soon rummage in your suitcase for the curling iron and the rest of your make up. You look at the mess scattered on Jungkookâs table, wondering where to start.
Make up, probably.
Okay. you have one, two chances max to try what you want to achieve. The goal is to remain casual, natural and humble; considering your dress, you cannot overdo it. You donât want to look excessively over the top. Want to keep your essence under the make up.
So you keep it lowkey, pretty much content with the results before you slip into the dress.
And when you look into the mirror, you nearly squeal. You donât struggle with your appearance. But while youâve largely been satisfied with how you look, you did occasionally find things to possibly improve.
Normal. Doesnât everyone deem certain spots flaws, regardless of whether they actually are?
But today⊠today youâre sparkling. Youâre happy; in love with what you accomplished.
If you could, youâd immediately rush down to him again, show you the results. But it seems you donât need to â because half a minute later, you make out his voice outside. Heâs talking to his brother, laughing about something; seems the rest of the family is leaving. The door shuts just before you hear him moving up the stairs with quick steps.
And⊠when he finally opens the ajar door to his own room, his body locks at the spot, as if somebody screwed his feet into the wooden floor.
The reaction is easily imagined; most often seen on TV. You didnât know how real it was, but then again, clichĂ©s always have an origin in real life, donât they?
Youâre surprised, a little shy by how he looks at you. And how he looks in general â black trousers hugging his snatched waist and well-formed hips. The white dress shirt is still in progress, collars up, suit jacket not yet on.
And heâs olding something in his hand that you canât recognise.
He looks breathtaking and mesmerising, despite missing half of the preparation still. Fuck⊠fuck, fuck, fuck.
Does he feel the same about you? Probably.
Because he curses, âWhat the fuck.â
Like a statement, not a question. You touch the silky soft material of your dress, widening your eyes as your quiet voice asks, âWhat?â
âWhat are you even?â
You burst out into a brief, fleeting laugh at the question, repeating, âWhat I am?â
âLike, a fairy or something. Shit, itâs as if Iâm getting married.â
Another near-squeak falls out of you. But you canât blame him this time; you chose this attire carefully.
The sheer chiffon fabric, light and airy, sparkling; it called your name the moment you saw it. Floor length, lavender, spilling to the floor like a waterfall; a spicy slit on the side that Jungkookâs eyes remained on for just a tiny heartbeat longer, you know.
And off-the-shoulder sleeves; most of the back bare.
Sheepishly, you ask, âSo you like it?â
âLike, Iââ he starts, yet stops. He blows a raspberry. âYouâre so pretty. Youâre the prettiest. Oh my God,â he exclaims, dramatically touching his forehead, âI need to keep otherâs eyes off you. Look at you!â
You laugh out loud, a hand on his wrist to keep your balance, no other productive response in your bright pink entangled mind than, âBabeââ
âNo, seriously. Okay, I concur. It was right for me to wait to see you in the dress. Getting a heart attack as we speak.â
Your cheeks still glow brightly when you wiggle a finger at him, disappointed that there is no reality show camera pointing at you to hear you say, âIf your boyfriend doesnât react like this, girl, you donât want him.â
You instinctively move to the buttons of his sleeve, helping out, resisting the urge to give in and fix his collar, too. You want to see the end result so badly, but heâs still missing the tie and the jacket.Â
So you settle on merely touching the buttons over his chest, nodding as if approving before you say, âYou already look so good, too. You know, maybe itâs you who should hide behind me today. What if some middle school girl crushing on you jumps you?â
He chuckles. âThey can try.â
âThey? Well, shit.â
âIâm kidding.â He lowers his chin, bringing your knuckles to his rosy lips, kissing one or two of them. âHide me, then.â
âMhm⊠Do you need help getting ready? With the tie or something?â
âOh, itâs okay. You can lean back for a bit, tell me a story or something? I shouldnât take too long.â
Itâs a ritual of sorts. Sometimes, when you wait for the other on a date or dinner night, the faster one acts as the nightâs entertainer. Sings songs or tells stories or plays DJ or serves the latest, hottest work tea.
You tell him, âOkay. But before I do,â your hand wanders down to his; itâs stubbornly closed around an object, dangling on his side. You uncurl his fingers. âWhatâs that you got there?â
âOh, IâŠâ He comes to life, as if he forgot that he was holding it at all. He lifts it between your faces, straightening his palm, and presents you something incredibly sparkly and nostalgic. âItâs part of the reason I went down at all. With my momâs permission since she wore it at her promâŠâ
Damn it. Both of them deceived you.
âYou were looking for it?â He nods; your heartbeat accelerates as you urge, âAndâŠâ
âAnd I got it for you.â
Words, you notice, are only your specialty when youâre jotting them down and narrating a story from within your mind. When it comes to answering to the grand gestures he always makes you fall in love with, youâre such a zero.
Odd, considering how he, in contrast, has claimed over and over again that heâs not as eloquent as heâd like to be. But youâve long figured out that if he was to preach the truths he holds in his heart to an audience, the stage would drown in a flood of tears within minutes.
You reach for the shiny, pearly, flowery accessory. Itâs rose-gold, a little vintage, clearly older, and so strikingly beautiful. It looks likeâŠ
âA comb⊠for me,â you say. Not the one to untangle your hair. The decorative type; fancy and gorgeous. He nods again, lets you take it between your fingers. âWhy?â
âJust,â a shrug of his shoulder, âI wanted to give you a little something to remind you of this place and the love you got here. Besides, itâd look so pretty on you.â
A reminder that youâre loved. You wonder â who thinks of these things? Does anyone else in this universe heat up their girlâs chest like your boyfriend does?
They can tell you what they want; youâre the luckiest being alive. And in return, you want to love him as much as nobody has ever loved before.
You whisper, âThank you, Kook⊠Your mom is okay with this?â Another enthusiastic nod of confirmation. âThank you so much. Iâ I wish you could see yourself the same way.â You squeeze it in your hand to feel it properly, then open it again. âThis is so pretty.â
âItâll suit you.â
âYes?â Softly, you hand it back to him, turning to the mirror, with him right behind you. âDo you want to put it in?â
âAh⊠I can try.â
âRight there?â You point to the back of your head; to the braid in your loose half updo. âNear the hair pins I used. The comb might hide them well, too.â
And he does his best. Regards your hairdo focused, eyebrows knitting in concentration, so gentle with it. No getting stuck, no intentional tugging.
âWait,â he then says, tapping his trouserâs pocket, and then fishes out his phone for a picture. He shows it to you; the accessory sits there perfectly, not crooked or ruining a single wisp of hair. âHowâs that?â
âYou did it so well. Thank you, Koo.â You face him again, smile bright and endless. âYour turn?â
âYes.â He rubs his hands, looking around. âLetâs get this over with. Give me feedback, okay? And tell me a story?â
You take a seat at the edge of his bed prettily, coming up with a short tale about personified instruments and what theyâd symbolise. The guitar for the heart and the love in it, the drums for thunder and the excited pulse of the soul.
âThe flute for the breeze and dreams?â Jungkook adds.
And you urge in a thrilled tone, âAnd the violin for the rain and longing. Theyâd learn from each other, right?â You sigh. âIâll think about the piano, too. Canât figure it out yet⊠it could be a lot.â
Jungkook nods, distracted and interrupting the story when he asks for brief comments on his progress. Barely any feedback, though; praises largely.
You watch as he slips into the rest of his clothing and gels his hair back â itâs grown quite a bit since the press conference in September. You get to your feet, amped up when he finally claps and rubs his hands in anticipation a bit later, announcing that heâs ready to leave.
And youâre still euphoric when you jump into your car, letting him drive through the streets he knows much better. His fingers wander to the passenger seat every now and then; minutes after the last scolding, you keep reminding him to keep his hands on the wheel.
I want to kiss you so bad, but your damn make up wonât let me today, huh?
A tease here, a flirt there.
You feel like you could do anything. The sky's the limit. And it soon proves that the statement has never rang truer, even if in a vastly different context now.
Because once you reach the wedding â your metaphorical sky â, Ria is already standing at the parking lot, waving the moment she spots the two of you stepping out of the car. From afar, you already see the weddingâs venue; a lake in the back, a huge tent and a field at the front.
The parking lot right next to it, but still a couple minutes of a trek away.
Riaâs parents indulge Jungkook in a conversation about something you barely register right away, and she gestures towards herself, hugging and greeting you with an odd half-smile.
âYou look so pretty,â she says, and you beam benignly, returning the compliment.
Sheâs rocking a dark blue dress, sleeveless, her hair in a loose bun. Wavy strands frame her face. But somehow, she looks demotivated. Worried to the slightest, though still mostly cheerful. So you ask, âAre you okay?â
âYeah! I just wanted to tell you something. But donât freak out, okay?â
Well, shit. Doesnât start as you imagined, does it? You glimpse over to Jungkook. Heâs laughing from the heart, button nose crunched; why is she not telling him, too?
Your chest feels tighter; the usual human response to a menacing statement such as hers. You upright yourself, take a deep breath, ground yourself as you encourage, âYes? I wonât. Whatâs up?â
âWell⊠weâre in this town and like, people know each other. And since weâre all in a very close circle here, I just wanted to say that,â her face changes; she kind of grimaces, as if apologetic for something, âNara came, too.â
Ah.
AhâŠ
The sky's the limit, and you reached it, and now youâre kind of crashing.
Well. You never thought about this; but it makes perfect sense, doesnât it? Of course sheâd be here. She was part of this town and Jungkookâs life for so many years, so naturally, sheâd be familiar with his relatives, too.
Besides, even if she hadnât been with him⊠Didnât Jungkook and Ria already establish with you just yesterday, when you were inhaling your ice cream, that this small town strives on familiarity?
Meetings at the town hall, the shop ownersâ affection for most of their year-long customers. The Stars Hollow vibe you already recognised.
AhhhâŠ
So thatâs what Junghyun might have been trying to tell you on the first day, too. You remember his mother interrupting.
How annoying. You did not want to feel annoyed. Maybe it wouldâve been better if Ria hadnât told you; if youâd bumped into Nara randomly and suffered the temporary heart attack. Or perhaps, you wouldnât have seen her at allâŠ
Come on. Unrealistic.
Fuck, you feel childish. There shouldnât be any burning in your chest or an uncomfortable warmth in your cheek. You shouldnât be feeling the urge to run over to Jungkook, to actually hide him behind you.
To rush to his ear, whisper your worries, make him promise that he only loves you and wonât ride into the sunset with her.
Delusional, paranoid concerns that you wouldnât entertain on any normal, sane day; then again, the news Ria delivered wasnât going to leave you unbothered anyway. This whole thing around exes really sucks.
âI⊠I shouldnât spiral, though, right?â you answer, your voice a little weaker. Ria immediately nods, though still not relaxing the wrinkle between her eyebrows. âI mean, of course sheâd be here. This is her place, she was born here andâŠâ
Ria takes your hands in hers, assures, âI promise you itâs nothing too bad, okay? Nara and Jungkook have been here at the same time before and literally nothing happened.â
What? When?
âWhen?â you echo.
âUh, like last summer? He only came down for a couple days, though. College exams and stuff.â
Ah⊠you wouldnât even know. Back then, youâd only encountered him once, at the blurry frat party that you spent in locked rooms and on tiled roofs. When you sang together and spilled your hearts to each other.
For the very first time.
Whatever he did before or after that⊠how would you know?
Only, you feel even sicker at the thought that after that party, and after he allegedly met Nara here again without anything literally happening, he still linked with her back in the city. Still shared his nights and sheets with her.
Does this count as nothing happening? What if the time here evoked something? What if it happens again?
Fuck, what if it happens again?
âIâm going to panic,â you tell Ria.
âWhat? No,â she exclaims, though instantly lowering her voice, rubbing your arm soothingly, âitâs okay, I promise. He didnât even think of it. Either that or he doesnât care âcause he didnât mention her once.â
âBut now I might keep thinking about it.â
âSeriously. Fuck, I feel bad for saying itââ
âNo⊠no, itâs okay. You shouldâve.â
âOkay, look. Itâs honestly fine. Sheâs nice, she wonât do anything shady; not if she knows about yâall.â Another caressing touch to your shoulder. âI just wanted to warn you. Please donât feel startled. Iâm here, okay? Iâll smash his nose if anything happens.â
She looks to the side. The other conversation has seemingly ended, too, and you swallow as Riaâs parents wave her over. She says, âOkay. Gotta go, but Iâll meet you guys inside and reserve seats, okay? Thereâs just limited assigned seating.â
She pats your coat-clad arm, and then walks away.Â
Well. Okay.
You guess youâll have to get over this one way or another. You focus on your clothing. Focus on how you look, how Jungkook looks. The weather, the tent many many feet away. Your boyfriendâs gaze on you as he walks back to you, offering his hand.
He pauses when he sees you, asking, âIs everything okay?â
âHm?â you hum. âYes. Just nervous, I think.â
âMe too.â He flashes the sweetest grin known to mankind, genuinely excited, childlike joy. Tilts his head at you. âYou seriously look so fucking pretty. Like really, really.â
You smile.
OkayâŠ
It should be alright. Jeon Jungkook is so in love with you; damn it, he even peels your oranges for you when you donât feel like doing it. You need to trust the process; need to hold onto your excitement.
Okay.
You glance at the event warming up in the far. Halfway through, people have gathered, standing on the grass or the man-made path. Thereâs still a bit of time; so naturally, theyâre still busying themselves with conversations.
Breathe in. Breathe out.
Youâve met her before. This isnât different.
You look down to where his and your fingers intertwine; put particular attention to the way he holds you. Firmly, as if protecting and loving and keeping you close at the same time.
His smile lifts your spirits a little, the wind enclosing your mind and easing it. You nod only slightly, telling yourself itâll all be good â and then, let him tug you towards the wedding.
The wedding is as bustling as you expected. Itâs bright, colourful, flowers draped over the place in abundance. Even before you enter it, the huge tent leaves you breathless, gasping.
They put so much effort into this; itâs clear as day. Jungkookâs mother isnât around, but the moment you lay your eyes on her again, youâll praise her for what she helped mount. Somehow, the beauty nearly makes you forget that youâre among pure strangers.
But that at least one familiar face is roaming here somewhere.
You take a deep breath.
All these people know each other. They probably grew up together, know the ins and outs of the town, have gathered at weddings and funerals and school events. You donât know how well youâll be able to integrate, but you do hope for their support.
Itâs not too much to ask, you reckon.
At least not when Jungkook pulls at your hand and the two of you into certain directions, coming to a stand multiple times when he sees a person or two calling him to them. Some are old school friends; some adults he knew when he was a child.
Candy store owners. Somebody who sold him his first scooter. Or a pal he used to share his banana milk with.
The sentiments are clearly there and they bask in them, but none of them ever forgets about you. Jungkook introduces you, tugs you into his side, enskies you with praise. And they respond with kindness and interest; tell you heâs mentioned you before.
You remember. Jungkook told you how his friends spoke about you or saw you on TV, eager to meet you â they react according to the excitement he foretold, and you reciprocate it with ease. Very sweet.
Yet, it seems that even in a small town, or especially in a small town, enmity runs just as deep as affection. Some people remember friendships, others still resent rotten memories.
You soon meet the first one of the latter kind.
Heâs standing near the entrance of the spacious tent; you glance inside, unsuspecting, not a single familiar face in sight. You donât notice him until Jungkook does, coming to a stand, walk interrupted as the guy exclaims, âJeon Jungkook! My goodness, Jungkookââ
You meet thick eyebrows, long-ish dark hair, full lips. Heâs handsome, his smile bright.Â
And his voice is mellow and sweet, and at certain tones, it reminds you of Jiminâs; then again, some syllables come out much deeper. You donât know who he is; of the pictures Jungkook has shown you, he wasnât in any of them.
âHey,â Jungkook greets, somewhat distant. You donât think standing here is his first choice, but your boyfriend is as polite as can be. Even waves towards the guy, and tells you, âThis is Christian. Barom, but he lives in Australia now, so.â
âHi,â you reach out a hand, ânice to meet you.â
The accent is heavy and somehow cursive when he responds, âLikewise.â
Jungkook is definitely not delighted about him. Follows the touch of your hands, then your gaze up to Christianâs face. You notice it before Jungkook can probably even think of it: the odd look the stranger throws at you.
Up and down. Smile telling. Uncomfortable.
And when Jungkook suddenly does catch it, he intervenes, âYou came all the way from Sydney?â
âYep. And you came over from the city?â
âYeah,â Jungkook answers. You barely register it, but youâre certain heâs been pushing you behind him inch by inch; but you remain at your spot. You can deal with this. âWe were on vacation before, but I was gonna come anyway.â
âNice. And wait, sorry, you wereâŠ?â
You recall never introducing yourself; but youâre positive heâs figured out your relationship to Jungkook just by the steadfast grip around your palm. But Jungkook still officially voices your name and informs him, âMy girlfriend.â
Christian must be seeing or hearing something you arenât â strange since it was him who asked â but he laughs, teasing, âYouâre being defensive.â
âIâm not. I literally just told you sheâs my girlfriend.â
âLucky. You look pretty together.â
âYeah. Thanks.â
You have not a single clue whatâs going on. Jungkook is never really rude, so there must be something about this Barom or Christian â heâs never mentioned him before.
Then again, you guess growing up in a tight space comes with all sorts of relationships. Christian is probably the sort that never earns a mention until actually met with the person themselves.
Itâs funny though â in some way, the rejection seems one-sided. As if Jungkook is still holding something against him and Christian remains uncaring; while it might not be a universal truth, youâve experienced that those utterly calm are often the ones at fault.
And Jungkook isnât an angry human being. Heâs kind. Patient. Needs a reason to be mad.
Christian doesnât take the hint when he smiles, a heavily tattooed hand patting Jungkook on his shoulder as he suggests, âSee you later then? Letâs take a picture or get a drink afterwards.â
Jungkook only stalls for the tiniest seconds, but you know him â heâs probably already made up his mind. You look between the men, baffled by the nearly visible bolts shooting from one pair of eyes to the other.
âSure,â Jungkook eventually says, your hand still in his, and works on moving to the coat check and then to the chairs without adding anything else.
You donât inquire yet what this was about as you walk, catching glimpses of the priest, of the stranger guests and of the people lingering at the front of the tent. Youâre busy gauging Jungkookâs eyebrows, observing as they relax more the further he gets away from the guy.
And neither do you need to pop the question when youâve settled somewhere in the middle-ish, you on his right side, Ria on the other. Next to her, her parents that you briefly met when you brought her home yesterday.
Previously turned on her seat, she now uprights her body, hooking her arm with Jungkookâs as she whispers to him, yet clearly enough for you to hear, âWas that Yu Barom?â
Jungkook nods. âChristian Yu now. Yup.â
âRight.â
They nod, understanding each other wordlessly, but youâre still floating in between a couple theories and the actual sentiments. So you lean in; youâve become one of the gossipers at a wedding, you guess.
âOkay,â you start; the two of them stare at you with the same big puppy eyes. âYou donât seem to like him.â
âOh, we donât,â Jungkook bluntly admits.
âWhy?â
Jungkook smacks his lips. Eyes drift to the roof of the tent, the polyester fabric swaying in the gust. Then, they shift to his cousin, presumably seeking approval, because she shrugs her shoulders, gesturing with her hand and says, âOh, go ahead.â
So he explains, âHis little cousin was a constant problem for Ria. Same age⊠harassed her and all. Constant flirting and phone calls and didnât take the hint, just an uncomfortable dude in general.â He pauses, shaking his head. âI had to threaten him for him to get lost. And Christian didnât like that.â
Okay, now you definitely feel like somebody indulging in tittle-tattle. Some more and youâll be one of the aunties. Your mouth gradually opens as he speaks, and you emphasise, âNo way.â
âItâs trueâ the guy was on a break from college for just a month and decided to argue with a fifteen-year-old.â
âWhat? Did you get into a fight with him?â
âNah.â He pauses when a group of random three girls in green dresses walks along the aisle, even though theyâre barely facing you, sending a perfumed breeze towards you. Then, âNot a physical one. But it was a bit messy. Didnât like that night.â
âMe neither,â Ria confirms.
Of course he didnât like it.
Heâs largely non-confrontational. Youâve learned this much in the time youâve known him, and have given the fact utmost sense ever since he revealed his innermost fears. Jungkook keeps quiet; he dreads repetitions of a direful past.
Yet, initiating and risking a conflict for his baby cousin increases the respect you harbour for him.
People are cruel; but Jeon Jungkook is good-hearted to his core, no matter how flawed.
You touch the back of his hand, caressing it when he says, âStay with me tonight, okay? And if you canât, then do come to me when he nears you.â
âOkay.â
His eyes meet yours, concerned but also suspiciously fiery when he states, âBecause like, I really didnât like how he was looking at you.â
AhâŠ
âHm?â
âYou didnât notice?â he asks, his voice higher, thick eyebrows closing into each other again. You lift a thumb, clearing the crease and his stress. âI almost plucked his eyes out.â
Of course you noticed. You just didnât think it irritated Jungkook to this point.
âOhâ Kookââ
âNo seriously,â he stresses, turning his hand to get ahold of two of your fingers, âguy was sweet half his life and then tried stuff with so many girls. I wouldnât be surprised if he approached you again, so please stay away from him, okay?â
âYes, baby. But I wouldnât let him do shit anyway. Donât worry.â You nudge his shoulder. âAnd donât be jealous. Have you seen yourself?â
He rolls his eyes at the accusation, but thereâs a sliver of a smile on his face and relief in his gaze. You guess hearing you say it does wonders to him; sometimes, you truly praise the connection between you, based on a clear foundation of trust and communication.
Well⊠at least now.
âIâm not jealous,â he insists, âit was just gross how he looked at you. Fuck this. Not with my girl.â
You canât help but break into a chuckle, way too loud for your row. You slap a hand over your mouth, careful not to ruin the lipstick, and nearly give into the urge to release his pout. But itâs too sweet â it can linger for a second.
Removing your hand, you near him until your mouth grazes his, assuring, âI love you,â before you peck his lips curtly. He still looks a little grumpy, though. Your man. âItâs okay, baby.â
The grip around your hand intensifies. It doesnât seem it will vanish for the rest of the night. You sure hope it doesnât.
And youâre immensely grateful for the luck youâre enjoying. Not only because of this placeâs beauty and the palm holding onto yours â but you havenât seen Nara either. In fact, you become hyper aware of how much youâve been thinking of her.
Like; what is she wearing? How is she doing? Is she thinking about Jungkook; expecting him here; feeling a sort of way? Is she imagining his smile and how she saw it in this very town so many times, dedicated to her?
And did Christian ever flirt with her, too? Did it irritate Jungkook?
Youâve been thinking it all dead.
Unnecessarily so if Jungkook hasnât even mentioned her, never sought her out. Instead, heâs busy protecting his girl from past bullies.
In all honesty, youâll probably cross ways with her still. The guest list isnât endless; the place vast but not infinite.
But for now, you forget about her, trashing all thoughts and possibilities. Shake your head. Breathe it out. Relieve your chest.
You diverge into conversations about anything and everything, reminiscing about yesterday and the places you saw. Listen into stories Ria and Jungkook tell: about injuries, about pleasant nights and about the fights they had.
Ria was like the sister Jungkook never had; Junghyun was a good older brother, but when seeking another opinion, she was on speed dial. Sometimes, growing up in a certain environment makes all the difference â hearing a girlâs thoughts at all times might have made Jungkook the way he is.
Thoughtful, respectful. You have encountered sexism a million times â not to mention just minutes ago, checked out so shamelessly â but you donât think Jungkook has such a notion even in any crevice of his heart.
Youâre fond and happy when they laugh together; her crinkles match his. Their laugh contagious.
It still echoes and fades, slowly and lovingly when the tent quietens. All heads turn, but you donât see much from here. Maybe a couple moving bodies at the entrance. Someone coughs, interrupting the silence and lowering their head, and the moment allows you a peek at the sensation.
The bride is waiting, holding a bouquet. Her father is touching her veil to fix it despite having nothing to fix; but she doesnât notice.
Gayoung is glancing ahead, breathing in. Everyoneâs eyes remain on her, but your head turns to follow her eyes. The groom is already standing there in a standard groomesque position, hands folded, upright like a post.
He looks insanely nervous. His shiny boot taps the ground, lips parting and unparting. And heâs blinking; then forming a circle with his mouth, releasing the pent-up tension.
She hasnât moved yet. The ceremony is yet to begin.
But even before all that, as people indulge in the sight and wait for their eternity to start, Jungkook has already mimicked your turn, fingers still intertwined. When he speaks, you flinch; you didnât notice his voice this close.
Heâs looking at the groom, too, before he settles his gaze on you. Stares with affection in his gems that bursts your heart, splinters your ribs and implodes your chest. You know heâll say something to fade out the entire crowd before he actually says it.
âCan I tell you something mainstream?â
You hum, âHm?â
He regards your digits, plays with them. âIf you ever choose to marry meâŠâ Your heart stops. âIâll look just as tense as him.â
âWould you⊠want to marry me one day?â
âItâs just a thing people do, right?â he questions. âWhether itâs like this or in any other wayâ Iâll spend my life with you anyhow.â
Iâll spend my life with you.
Not a question. Not a need.
But a confession. A goal. A plan.Â
You donât get to answer when the first tunes of a guitar play. Itâs a song you recognise; paints a smile onto your face. The melody is soft, slow, so gentle. They didnât choose an orchestral track or the usual Wedding March after all.
Itâs a song.
Jungkookâs eyes blow wide, and he immediately seeks yours. Mutters into your ear, âDo I know this?â
âYou probably do.â
âWaitââ He listens in. Pupils roll up as he ponders. Then, âDidnât someone sing this in the lobby this week?â
Almost. Itâs why it delights you so. You already had half an idea back then, and you managed to somehow incorporate it into this wedding without really being part of these people.
âYoongi played it on the guitar,â you clarify, âI suggested it to your mom this morning. I guess she liked it enough to forward the request so spontaneously.â
âYou did? Then she mustâveâŠâ
You canât decipher what heâs thinking. His stare is fixated on the passing bride, her slow steps, the beam she wears as she nears whom sheâs decided to be the rest of her life.
You canât peep into his brain, but you notice when he tilts his head. See the tiny gap between his lips and the way he catches the groom blink away tears the moment you do, because Jungkook smiles at just the same moment as you do.
Gayoung lowers her head when she comes to a stand in front of his still-fiancĂ©, and then delivers the most magnificent, most mesmerising grin. Sheâs happy, you know. You donât think youâve seen this intensity of joy a lot of times in your life.
You recognised it when Jungkook woke up still in your bed after the blue night. When he opened up to you, vowed to stay, brought you to his home. When you announced to the world that youâd be his to remain, that youâd do what you enjoy.
When you got home that evening, and he kissed you right against the door, deemed you crazy, deemed you his.
You havenât seen this very happiness much in your life, but youâve seen it in him. And youâve felt it in your chest. Growing, blossoming, never wilting.
The couple at the front speaks its vows like a song. The words are melodic, poetic, and youâre almost entirely sure that theyâre not rehearsed. Itâs all real. The love in them and the memories in them, accompanied by the liquid bliss swimming in his and her waterline.
No, you havenât experienced this too many times before. Youâve felt it. Heâs felt it.
And you donât need to know much more than this; donât need to know what heâs thinking to understand what he means when he saysâ
âThis⊠this is it.â
THE CHAPTER ISN'T OVER YET!! PLS READ đđŒ
1k block limit as always!! you can read the second half of the chapter in this reblog!! the reblog begins with a new scene <3
#jungkook smut#jungkook fluff#bts smut#bts fluff#jeongguk smut#jungkook x reader#jungkook x you#bts x you#bts imagines#jungkook fic#bts angst#jungkook angst#jungkook
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I Want You [Logan Howlett]
Summary: Logan is jealous of you and Scott's friendship, not knowing your true feelings.
Warnings: SMUT! 18+ only please. fem/afab!reader. brief argument, logan being stubborn comme d'hab, making out, oral, riding, you get the idea ;)
WC: 2.9k - MASTERLIST
The sun is setting, casting long shadows across the X-Mansion grounds. You find yourself on the patio, leaning against the railing, watching as the last rays of sunlight dip below the trees. The tranquility of the moment is soothing, a brief escape from the chaos that often fills your days.
Your mind drifts to earlier that day, when you and Scott had been working together in the training room. He's always been a good friendâsomeone you can rely on when you need advice or a steady hand in a crisis. Scott had patiently helped you fine-tune your abilities, offering encouragement and constructive feedback.
"You're really getting the hang of it," Scott had said with a smile as you both took a break, sitting on the edge of the training mat. "I'm impressed."
"Thanks, Scott," you had replied, grateful for his support. "Couldn't have done it without your help."
He had shrugged, a modest grin on his face. "We make a good team. It's nice to have someone who gets it, you know?"
You had nodded, feeling the warmth of genuine friendship between you. Scott was like the brother you never had, someone who understood the challenges you faced and never judged you for them.
The sound of heavy footsteps approaching breaks your reverie. You recognize them immediatelyâLogan.
"You and Summers seem to be gettin' pretty close."
You turn to face him, raising an eyebrow at his accusatory tone. "Scott? We're just friends, Logan. You know that."
He crosses his arms over his chest, scowl deepening. "Doesn't look like it from where I'm standin'."
Frustration bubbles up inside you, and you canât help but let it spill over. "And where exactly are you standing? Lurking in the shadows, jumping to conclusions?"
His eyes narrow, jaw clenching. "I'm just callin' it like I see it."
"You don't see anything," you retort, matching his intensity. "You're too busy looking for problems that aren't there."
He steps closer, his presence imposing but familiar. "I see the way he looks at you."
You roll your eyes, exasperated. "And how do I look at him, Logan?"
"Like he hung the damn moon," Logan mutters, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his voice.
"That's rich coming from the guy who's too stubborn to see what's right in front of him," you snap back, heart pounding.
He pauses, taken aback by your words. "What do you mean by that?"
You take a deep breath, the weight of your unspoken feelings pressing down on you. "I mean, I'm not in love with Scott. I'm in love with you. But you're too busy being jealous and stubborn to notice."
He blinks, surprise flickering across his features. His defenses falter for a moment, and you see the real him beneath the rugged exterior. "Me? Why the hell would youâ"
"Because you're you, Logan," you interrupt, voice softer now. "You're gruff and infuriating, but you're also brave and kind. You see through the facade I put up, and you make me want to be better."
He looks at you, his hardened exterior cracking. "I thought I wasn't good enough for you,â he says, quietly.Â
You step closer, reaching out to touch his arm. The contact is electric, as always, grounding both of you in the moment. "You don't get to decide that for me. I've made my choice."
He stares at you, a mix of disbelief and longing in his eyes. "All this time... and I was just bein' a damn fool."
"Yeah, you were,â you say with a smile, the tension between you dissipating.Â
Logan lets out a low chuckle, the sound warm and genuine. "Guess I should apologize for actin' like a jerk, huh?"
You nod, teasingly. "That would be a good start."
He takes a deep breath, looking into your eyes with a sincerity that makes your heart race. "I'm sorry, darlin'. I was stupid, and I let my jealousy get the best of me."
You smile, feeling the last remnants of your anger melt away. "Apology accepted, but you're gonna have to make it up to me."
Tthe familiar glint returns to his eyes as he smirks. "Oh, I will. Count on it."
A comfortable silence falls between you. The night air is cool and refreshing, and you can hear the distant sounds of laughter from inside the mansion.
"Why didnât you ever say anything?" Logan asks, his voice quieter now, almost tentative.
"I guess I was scared," you admit. "Scared of ruining what we have, of pushing you away. Youâre not exactly easy to read."
He chuckles softly. "Yeah, well, you're not the only one whoâs scared. Iâm not good at this...feelinâ stuff. Always thought itâd get in the way."
"It doesnât have to," you say, hoping your words convey the sincerity you feel. "You donât have to do this alone, Logan. We can figure it out together."
He nods, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. You share a moment of quiet understanding. For once, thereâs no need for words. You both know what this means.
"Come on," Logan says suddenly, breaking the silence. "Letâs get outta here for a while."
"Where to?" you ask, curiosity piqued.
Thereâs a playful glint in his eyes as he shrugs. "Anywhere but here. I hear thereâs a nice little spot by the lake where the stars look like theyâre close enough to touch."
You laugh, "Alright, lead the way.â
---
The walk to the lake is peaceful, the cool night air wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. The sound of your footsteps on the gravel path blends with the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. You and Logan walk side by side, your fingers occasionally brushing against each other, only feeding the tension that seems to be growing as each moment passes.
When you reach the lake, the water shimmers under the starlight, a breathtaking view that makes you catch your breath. Logan finds a spot on the grassy bank, and you settle down beside him, lying back to gaze up at the sky.
"It's beautiful here," you whisper, feeling the tranquility of the moment seep into your bones.
Logan nods, his gaze fixed on you instead of the stars. "Yeah, it is."
His arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. You rest your head against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. It's a comforting sound, grounding you in the reality of this moment.
You tilt your head up to look at him, meeting his eyes. There's a softness there that you haven't seen before, a vulnerability that makes your heart swell. "I've wanted this for a long time, Logan."
He smiles, a rare and genuine expression that lights up his features. "Me too. Guess I was too stubborn to admit it."
You chuckle softly, reaching up to trace your fingers along the line of his jaw. "I like this side of you."
He catches your hand, pressing a kiss to your fingertips. His touch is gentle, almost reverent, as if he's afraid you'll disappear if he's not careful. The world around you fades away as Logan leans down, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss. It's slow and tentative at first, as if testing the waters, but quickly deepens into something more urgent and heated.
You shift closer, your bodies fitting together perfectly as his hand slides up your back, pulling you even closer. Your fingers weave into his hair, anchoring yourself as the kiss intensifies, leaving you breathless.
Breaking away briefly, his forehead rests against yours as he catches his breath. "You sure about this?" he murmurs, his voice low and husky.
You nod, your own breath coming in short gasps. "Absolutely."
With a growl of approval, Logan captures your lips again, the kiss filled with a hunger that leaves you dizzy. He shifts, pulling you with him as he rolls onto his back, guiding you to straddle his hips. His hand traces down your side, sending shivers of anticipation through you. The world around you feels distant and unimportant, the only thing that matters is the man with you and the way he makes you feel. Â
As the kiss deepens, you lose yourself in the moment, the passion and intensity of it all consuming you. Slowly, you rock back and forth, grinding your hot core against his growing bulge. Something akin to a growl releases from his throat, as his hands tighten their grip on you.
Breaking the kiss, Logan trails his lips down your neck, planting soft, lingering kisses along your skin. You tilt your head back, allowing him to continue his journey, savouring the sensation of his mouth against you. He hooks his fingers into the hem of your shirt, pausing to look up at you. With deliberate slowness, he slides your shirt up and over your head, discarding it with a flick of his wrist. He takes a moment to admire you, his hands tracing the curves of your waist with a gentle reverence.
âWow,â he breathes, his voice rough with emotion. âYou drive me crazy, you know that?â
His eyes roam over you appreciatively, lingering on your bare skin. His words and gaze make your heart race and heat flood your cheeks.
âSays you,â you murmur, feeling a heady mix of vulnerability and desire under his gaze.
âYouâre so damn beautiful,â he whispers, flipping you over so youâre now on your back as he hovers above you. âIâve thought about this moment more times than I can count.â
He begins to kiss the valley between your breasts, hands never ceasing their exploration of your body. Your grasp finds the hem of his shirt, tugging it up and over his head, revealing the hard planes of his chest. Your fingers trace over his muscles, delighting in the way they ripple beneath your touch.
Logan grins, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he moves even lower, his kisses trailing down your stomach. Each touch is electric, leaving a path of heat in its wake. His fingers find the waistband of your pants, slowly sliding them down your legs. With your pants discarded, Logan settles himself between your thighs, his hands gently parting them to make room for himself. His touch is firm yet gentle, and you shiver in anticipation as he leans in, his breath warm against your most sensitive skin.
He starts with soft kisses along your inner thighs, teasing you with his lips and the occasional scrape of his teeth. The feeling sends a thrill through you, making your heart race and your body ache for more. Finally, Logan focuses his attention on your centre, his mouth moving with expert precision as he tastes you. The first touch of his tongue is like fire, a sensation so intense that it steals your breath away. You gasp, your hands finding their way to his hair, anchoring yourself to him as the pleasure begins to build.
He works you with a practiced ease, his tongue tracing patterns that have you arching into him, seeking more of the exquisite sensations heâs giving you. He alternates between gentle flicks and firmer strokes, finding a rhythm that leaves you trembling beneath him. Your soft moans and gasps fill the night air, mingling with the sound of the lake and the distant rustle of leaves. Logan responds to your every sound, adjusting his movements, his sole focus on drawing out your pleasure.
As the tension coils within you, winding tighter with each deft movement of his tongue, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of release. Logan senses your impending climax, his efforts doubling as he brings you closer and closer to the brink. With a final flick of his tongue at your clit with gentle, firm pressure, he pushes you over the edge, sending you spiraling into ecstasy. The world dissolves around you as the waves of pleasure crash over you, leaving you breathless and shaking.
Logan stays with you through it all, his touch gentle and reassuring as you come down from your high. He presses a soft kiss to your thigh before moving back up to lie beside you, gathering you into his arms as you catch your breath. âLogan,â you whisper, feeling a warmth thatâs more than just physical spreading through you.
He smiles, a satisfied, tender expression on his face as he brushes a stray hair from your cheek. âIâve got you,â he murmurs.
You shift slightly, your fingers tracing the lines of his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. The sight of him, hair tousled and eyes filled with a mix of satisfaction and desire, stirs something within you. You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.
Responding eagerly to your initiation, the kiss deepens as your hands explore each other with a renewed sense of curiosity and hunger, as if he didnât just make you finish with his mouth. You push him gently onto his back, straddling his hips as you trade positions once again, trailing kisses down his chest, savoring the way his muscles tense under your touch.
Your hands make quick work of his belt and jeans, tugging them down to reveal the hard length of him. Heâs beautiful. Loganâs breath hitches as you take him in your hand, stroking him with a slow, deliberate rhythm that draws a low groan from his lips.
You lower yourself further, your lips and tongue exploring every inch of him, tasting and teasing until his hands are tangled in your hair, guiding you with a mix of urgency and need. The sounds he makes, the way he reacts to your touch, only spurs you on, and you take him deeper, reveling in the way his body responds to yours.
âDarlinâ,â Logan rasps, his voice strained with pleasure, âyouâre gonna be the death of me.â
You smile against him, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, the heat in his eyes matching the fire burning within you. âWell, donât go dying on me now,â you tease, moving back up to capture his lips in a heated kiss.
His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as you settle over him. You barely break the kiss as you grab his length and slowly sit down on it. The pleasure of being filled by him draws a gasp from your lips, and a hearty groan vibrates underneath you.
You brace yourself against his chest, feeling the taut muscles beneath your palms, as you begin to move. The rhythm starts slow and steady, each movement deliberate as you rise and fall, taking him deeper with each movement of your hips. Soon enough, you feel him begin to thrust up into you, matching your pace, pounding into you even deeper than before.Â
Loganâs grip on your hips tightens, guiding you as you pick up the pace, your bodies moving in perfect harmony. The sound of your breathy sighs and his low groans fill the air, mingling with the gentle rustle of the leaves and the lapping of the lake against the shore.
His eyes remain locked on yours, a dark and heated gaze that stokes the fire within you. You feel the tension coiling tight, winding with each movement until itâs all-consuming, a need that demands release.
âIâm close,â you gasp, leaning forward to capture his lips in a heated kiss.Â
The tension within you builds to a crescendo, a tidal wave of sensation that sweeps you away. With one final movement, you tumble over the edge, your release crashing over you in a symphony of pleasure that leaves you trembling in his arms.
He follows soon after, a low, guttural moan escaping him as he finds his own release, his hands finding and squeezing your breasts while his body shudders beneath you.
When the waves of pleasure subside, you collapse against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath you. His arms wrap around you, holding you close, and you smile against his skin, feeling a sense of peace and contentment that only comes from being with him.
The night air cools the heat between you, and you nestle against Loganâs side, feeling safe and cherished in the aftermath of your shared passion. His fingers trace lazy patterns along your back, soothing and grounding you as you bask in the warmth of his embrace.
âWow,â you whisper, a soft laugh escaping you as you meet his gaze, the stars reflected in his eyes. âThat wasâŠâ
âIncredible,â he finishes for you, a satisfied smirk tugging at his lips. âYouâve got me all figured out, darlinâ.â
You chuckle, feeling the warmth of his words settle in your chest. âI think weâve got eachother figured out.â
âYeah, we do,â Logan agrees, pulling you closer, his lips pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.
As the night stretches on, you find comfort and peace in Loganâs embrace, knowing that this is just the beginning of something beautiful and real. Youâve found a home in each otherâs armsâa place where you truly belong.
---------
A/N: this is my first time ever writing smut yikes lol please leave feedback!
#wolverine smut#wolverine#deadpool 3#logan howlett#deadpool and wolverine#james howlett#hugh jackman#deadpool movie#logan howlett fic#logan howlett smut#logan x reader#logan howlett x reader#x men#smut#wolverine x reader#wolverine imagine#marvel smut#marvel fanfiction#marvel fic
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SWEETNESS OF THE DAMNED
a/n: this was a quick drabble at first, but somehow turned into an allegory for persophone and hades. which isnât surprising for me given that iâm already plotting october fics. logan isnât a monster in this, nor is he a vampire even though the vibe and title may give that off. i just really love gothic vibes in everything i write so who better to give it to than old man logan.
summary: when night falls and wine overflows in glasses of crystal, logan finds his home in between your thighs.
word count: 1.2k+
pairing: old man!logan howlett x f!reader
warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, p in v sex, alcohol consumption, allegories for persephone and hades, biting, scratching even though he heals, cumplay, overstimulation, squirting, dirty talk, older logan is so filthy iâm blushing.
The acrid embers of the fire burned your nose the deeper your breaths became. Red wine remained chocolatey and bitter on your tongue; the dinner you tried to eat quickly was now forgotten in favor of something else. You thought you could smell the cigar he smoked on the porch an hour ago on his bare skin. You couldn't.
Not when his fingers dug into your hips, lips pressed against the shell of your ear. He grunted with each slap of skin. The wet slick of how he pounded into you echoed loud and bright in the cabin.
You would have been embarrassed if it weren't for the sounds he let out. The way his eyes fell shut the closer you got to that fiery peak.
"C'mon baby," he sighed, ragged and needy. "I can feel ya."
Wine had gone to your head the second he poured you a third glass. Your red dress of crushed velvet lay in a heap on the floor. A pair of his jeans and a shirt beside it. The soft fabric of his flannel was smooth beneath your knees where he dropped it. Careful to keep your skin from going raw as he took you before dinner could even finish.
The alcohol is what brought this night to an early conclusion.
You already knew it would happen. Hoped for it on long days with hours that stretched for miles. Ached for his presence when you curled up in bedâthe scent of his body still stuck on the cotton sheets. Logan promised to give you everything with a soft kiss at the door, his fingers gripping your chin to hold you there a minute longer. To slip his tongue past your maroon painted lips and lick along your teeth.
"'S too much," you garbled.
He laughed as you clenched around his leaking cockâtearing a deep moan from his chest. The heat of his body burned its way into yours where the fireplace couldn't reach. Each muscle and ridge along his stomach pressed into your backâhis hips strong enough to break you slowed into punishing thrusts that bounced you on his thighs.
Time didn't exist; seasons began to blend into one.
The both of you resided where spring met summer and the shadow of night met fall's full moon. You wore a crown of wilted flowersâred spilling over your hands from where he asked you to bite into his skin. This was your damned hour. Your time of need.
You were the other half of an already broken soul, and he found that in your absence he couldn't hold it together for quite as long.
"You feel that?" His hand cupped your cuntâfingers spread around where he ended and you began. "She's leakin' for me baby."
"L-Logan," you gasped your throat thick with too many emotions.
The slow grind of his hips into yours sent your body hurtling towards yet another release. Your stomach was sticky where his other hand pressed - already coated in the three before. Holding onto the fraying pieces of your mind proved to be difficult when his teeth latched onto your shoulder. His fingers drew a shape around the edge of your throbbing clit.
His initials.
"You want another one don't ya honey?"
Yes. No. Please never fucking stop.
Instead all you could get out was a whine of his name. Your back arched into his hold, head pressed hard against his chest, as you fought to keep up with him. To grind against his lap and feel the drag of his cock along your walls.
"Yeah. You do," he murmured against your ear. "She wants to be good for me."
Down in the base of your stomach you felt the familiar pull of bliss begin to draw tight. You knew what came next. The rush of mind numbing pleasure trickled into your veins. Slowly drawing you higher with each stunted thrustâeach echo of his fingers toying with your stretched cunt. You could count the seconds until it finally burst.
"I'm gonnaâ" The breath caught in your throat, hands clasping around his wrists as something shifted. "F-Fuck. Logan I'mâ"
"Fuck yeah ya are," he grunted into your neck. "Gonna lick you clean after this. Get my fuckin' dessert."
His cock pounded deep against your walls, fingers pulling up the hood of your clit to circle rapidly against nerves that were already shot. And you sobbed his name. Your nails drew red angry marks on his arms that healed moments later; your body too fucking rigid and too hot to process what the fuck he was doing.
Elysium and the River Styx were ripping you apart. As if you were being pulled in two very different directions.
A clatter echoed beside you when he reached for your glass of wine, still stained with the now faded red of your lipstick. You felt his thigh shakeâhis cock twitching in the heat of your body. You wondered if this is what it felt like to burn alive. The sweet aching bliss of being held by your lover as he drowned you in the fire. Would this be how he took you to the Underworld?
The cold wash of wine spilled along your body as he poured out the remainder of the glass. His tongue quickly dragged across your blistering skinâdrinking the cabernet off your body with a raspy groan of your name.
"'M almost there." He gripped the back of your neck and yanked you back with a kiss. His tongue plunging into your mouthâsharing the wine as his fingers pressed hard and fast against your swollen bud. "Give it to me huh? Fuckin' cum on my cock."
Your release ripped through your body with a scream. The echo of his name came back to you eventually, yet you couldn't figure out if you were the one saying it. With your nails piercing his skin, he felt you gush, choking his cock and milking him dry. A splatter of something wet landed on his thighs as he wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you still.
To bury himself as deep as he could go and finish with a blissful ragged groan against your shoulder. Wave after wave of ecstasy washed over your spent body and you felt him fill you until it began to leak out. Coating the inside of your thighs.
"Are you breathing?" he chuckled, lips sliding along your neck to find your mouth.
You answered with a whimper. Which proved enough for him.
The stickiness of the wine began to dry against your bare body while his fingers dragged through the mixture of your cum that stuck to your thigh. He sighedâcontent and warmâas he lowered himself to the floor. His back pressed against your clothes and softening cock still buried in your dripping cunt.
"Speak to me bub." His fingers tapped your cheek, nose nudging against your jaw. "I can't have killed ya."
"You almost did," you mumbled, barely able to open your eyes.
Exhaustion sunk right down to your bones the longer you lay there wrapped in his arms. You knew the both of you should shower. Clean up and actually eat something in its entirety this time around. Logan would say the same if it weren't for the comforting press of your weight against his body. He cupped your breasts, thumbs toying with your peaked nipples, and kissed you with a sigh.
The both of you should say something to get the other moving. Yet neither of you did.
Instead you were met with silence and the crackle of the fire. Time, now a nonexistent variable to a night spent in each other's arms.
#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x y/n#logan howlett smut#logan howlett#wolverine x reader#wolverine x you#my writing
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đđđ đđđđ
đđđđđ đđđ đđđđđđ.
â àœŸàŒ” đâ cregan stark x fem!targtower!reader.
SYNOPSIS: a blissful marriage to an honorable man â it is more than you couldâve asked for. with the heir on the way, you make a request of your husband.
anonymous request. unofficial sequel to wolfsblood, dragonsblood.
{ FORMAT: one-shot â requested by anonymous.
{ WORD COUNT: 6.1K.
{ WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), overprotective cregan, reader is pretty horny for cregan (valid), pregnancy, reader is pregnant, sexual activities while pregnant, cregan is a father in his mind, oral sex (fem!rec), cunnilingus, cregan loves munching, vaginal fingering, teasing, biting, hair-pulling kink, obvious size difference + size kink, slight face-riding, lots of cregan admiring in this one-shot, very soft ending + aftercare
{ AUTHORâS NOTE: I love writing for Cregan so much, yâall donât understand the depths of my adoration for him. I churned this out pretty quickly, but I loved writing it, Father Cregan is the best! I hope that you all enjoy, & thank you for your support! â€ïž
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It was easier to breathe, youâd realized â Kingâs Landing had always been so stifling and pungent, the population too thick, the air acrid. Here, in the North, it was sprawling with open spaces, regions of untouched forest and unsettled countryside.
The bite of the harsh, Northern chill was not an easy adjustment to make after a lengthy life spent in Southern regions â the gnawing wind often seared your extremities, and it was not any easier on Silverwing. Fire ran through your veins, tempered by your tender heart and kindly disposition.
Your beloved husband would not have it any other way.
What had started as an unsteady, tumultuous betrothal marked by obvious bitterness from your family and wariness from his own House, had blossomed into a fruitful union. You couldnât have asked for a better partner, and it made you realize how fortunate you were.
Snow was uncommon in most of the South, yet it remained constant in the North, mountains blanketed in endless horizons of white. It was a particularly icy day, winter winds stinging your cheeks, prickling your flesh with its pinpricks.
Mounds of pale, grayish fur swaddled your form, lined in the finest fleece, downy and plush against your skin. The trodden path to the Godswood was marked by frozen dirt, dusted over with a fresh layer of snowfall. Sprinkles of crystalline drops fell from the cloudy skies, and your breath emerged in hot wisps of air.
Lilac hues drifted toward the mountainous form of your husband, whose back was turned to you, swathed in the dappled pelt of a direwolf. Ice hung from his shoulder, a massive longsword of Valyrian Steel, an heirloom passed down through generations of House Stark.
Someday soon, it will pass to your firstborn son.
You recalled the night that you were wed, beneath the crimson leaves of the Weirwood Tree. It was serene, a moonlit dusk that struck the snow with an ethereal glow, your hands bound as you recanted your vows. It had been some moons now since that day, and you had only felt joy since then.
Cregan listened to the light crunch of snow beneath your footfalls as they reverberated throughout the Godswood, the pond frozen-over with a layer of ice. Pale bark marked with a foreign face peered back at him â this was a place that he and Rickon visited many times.
Before his little brother had passed, they pretended to fight wars here, forge their weapons, sticks found from the forest floor, and envision themselves as Knights. He could still feel his brother sometimes, his presence a whisper in the blood-red leaves, somewhere within the forestâs song.
Religion was a complicated thing for you. Your mother wielded the Faith of the Seven like a crudely-worn shortsword, letting it strike to her advantage even when it was rusty, at best. You had little interest in it, and Cregan seemed to respect your growing distance from your old roots. The Old Gods were his â you had nothing.
Inklings of snow drifted from the pale skies, growing darker as evening approached. The North became unyieldingly harsh after the sun began to wane, the sting of biting wind swirling around you, seeping into your bones. You were rather cold, but persisted for Cregan.
âSer Rodrick said that I might find you here,â Silence dissipated, filled with the sound of your voice, as soft as feathers, a soothing balm. You stepped closer, beneath the boughs of the great tree, the canopy thick with vermillion leaves. âHow are you faring?â
With Winter approaching, spreading its cold, brittle tendrils across the North, Creganâs duties had increased tenfold. Preparing his people for winter, ensuring that food was plentiful, that they were safe â it was the burden of leadership, but there was no one better suited for it in your eyes.
âWell enough,â Cregan murmured, storm-colored hues drifting over the Weirwood tree before they turned to you, completely and utterly transfixed. You stole every wisp of air from his lungs with your beauty, clad in the trappings of his people. âI apologize for running off.â
An amiable smile crossed your features as you reached for your husband, slipping a gloved palm against the crook of his arm. âYou neednât apologize, husband. You are owed your solitude, and I wouldnât dare tell you otherwise.â You have his bicep a gentle squeeze.
Creganâs gaze softened, sparkling with a warmth reserved only for you, his beloved. Your presence always seemed to melt away his hardened exterior, but he much preferred it that way. He stepped closer, towering above you in all of his indomitable glory, craning down to press a kiss against your brow.
The gloved leather of his hand moved to cup your abdomen, and the growing life within. The joyous news of your pregnancy had been the talk of the North, the new Lady Stark, preparing to birth an heir of Winterfell. Those thick furs you wore obscured your belly quite well.
âI should be asking you how you fare, carrying our child,â Cregan insisted, gingerly caressing around your stomach with the pride of a doting husband. âHere you are, walking all this way to the Godswood, when it is I who should be by your side.â If there was one word to describe Cregan, it was overprotective.
Gods, he was attentive â if he did leave your side, he ensured that you were well looked-after, under the watchful protection of his guardsmen. You couldnât fault your husband for his safeguarding nature, given that it was to be your firstborn.
Sometimes he forgot that you were a dragon-rider.
âBeing beneath the open sky has done me a world of good, husband,â You mused, canting your head to one side. You were not completely round and waddling just yet â halfway through, as the Maester stated. âI cannot stand to look at that dreadful cobblestone for days on-end.â
Cregan did not protest, nor invalidate your claims. He was not the one carrying a child â he did not have a right to speak on behalf of you. A shiver rolled down your spine, due to the bitter chill of the wind, coupled with the encroaching snowfall.
Instead, he reached for your jaw, cupping your face within the roughened texture of his leather-clad palm, presenting you with a kiss. It was kept brief, yet the ardor lingered, as strong as a burning flame. âYou are shivering, beloved. Let us return to the Keep.â He rumbled, shielding you beneath his cloak.
A respite from the cold would be welcome. Even if you possessed the blood of the Dragon, you did not fare well in such blisteringly glacial conditions. The thick cover of your husbandâs cloak brought a sense of comfort, coupled with the natural heat that radiated from him.
Snow crunched beneath his heavy footfalls, your own masked by his boots. Cregan made sure to guide you every step of the way, hovering with his impressive shadow. âI have been contemplating a name for our child.â You spoke softly, a smile toying upon your lips.
âHave you?â Cregan appeared appeased, a stoic smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. âYou donât know if we are to have a son or a daughter.â He remarked, letting your hand wrap around the bulk of his forearm, guiding you through the Godswood.
âPerhaps not, but I wanted you to hear,â Such ideas had been stirring around within your mind for weeks, and with Cregan so preoccupied, you hadnât broached the topic of conversation. âGilliane, after your mother, should we have a daughter, and ⊠Rickon.â You hesitated. âShould we have a son.â
Creganâs steps began to slow, and he looked upon you with such love and devotion that it was nearly overwhelming. He couldnât have loved you anymore if he tried â and he had tried. Towering over you, he pressed a kiss against the top of your head, one that blossomed with fondness.
You gave him the greatest honor of all â that of fatherhood, and now, you had bestowed upon him sentimental names, those of his family. Love flourished within his storm-colored hues, and he seemed to soften at your words. âYou would honor me beyond words, wife. Do you not wish to pay tribute to your own family?â
Placing a hand over the growing swell of your stomach, you seemed somewhat indifferent to talk of your family. Helaena and Daeron were the exceptions in this, but it did not pain you any less. âI pay tribute by carrying our child,â You replied, your smile threadbare. âThat is enough.â
Solemn, Cregan simply nodded, understanding your strained relationship with the family you had left behind in Kingâs Landing. From what you told him and from what he discerned, you seemed much happier here, liberated and free of such poisonous clutches. âOf course.â A soft rumble reverberated throughout his chest.
Winterfellâs snow-laden gates were now within reach, as guards in Stark tabards harkened the return of its Lord and Lady. He thoroughly enjoyed watching you interact with the denizens underneath his protection â you often greeted them with smiles and laughter.
He watched you grow into your station as Lady Stark, a growth that showed such promise. You had been shy around Northerners at first, but you now walked as if you had been in Winterfell your whole life. Cregan kept you close, his stance that of a protective husband, hovering above you with his hulking stature.
The Keep was close, and you could feel the crackling warmth of the hearth lick across your skin in the forefront of your mind. Cregan was characteristically stalwart, keeping you wedged against his side, swaddled in the thick furs of the direwolf.
Once inside, you welcomed the gust of warmer air. The Keep burned many fires and braziers when winter became sharp and bitter, your cheeks stinging from the cold. âShall we retire this evening, or are you lacking in nourishment?â Cregan inquired, knowing that your penchant for foodstuffs had increased while pregnant.
âCould something be brought to our chambers? Perhaps a stew or a broth, that sounds rather warming.â As if on-queue, your stomach lurched with inklings of famish, as if your child also demanded something to eat.
âIt will be done,â With his stoic assurance, your husband bent down to press a kiss against your temple, smoothing a palm across your back. âI will join you shortly, wife.â Cregan had a tendency to walk the Keep before retiring â spare a word to the guards, those in the kitchens, and anyone underneath his care.
âDo not keep me waiting for too long.â You mused, lips curving into a warm smile that could melt even the hardiest of ice â including that of your husband. The vulnerability that seemed to come to him in your presence was a comforting thing.
With a soft huff, Cregan cupped your chin, looking upon you with tempestuous hues, as gray as a winterâs storm. âI wouldnât dare.â He assured, presenting you with a tender kiss. Gods, you had sorely missed his mouth in many ways, and you were swift to reciprocate.
After you had become with-child, fuller and round with the heir to Winterfell, you had not engaged Cregan as much in terms of intimacy. He wanted you to relax, to not have to lift a finger. You missed your husband in more ways than one, giving way to your own basic desires and carnal instincts.
The kiss possessed a charged edge, tension looming above, the fringes of it seeping into your lips. You held onto his forearm, an audible sigh slipping past your mouth when Cregan withdrew. He could detect your yearning â the sentiment was a mutual one, but he feared hurting you, as any man would.
With a gentle hum, you allowed your husband to leave you, watching as his impressive form encapsulated all space within the corridor he walked in. You let him tend to his duties, and you made for the spiraling stairwell, making your way to your chambers without a hitch.
Thick, wooden doors gave way to the sanctuary within, the hearth being stoked and tended-to by one of the servants. âI thought you might want it warm, mâlady.â She mused, having laid out a series of new wardrobes for you across the foot of your bed.
âThank you, Tanea.â The new gowns and dresses seemed to be made with your new specifications in-mind, accommodating for your growing belly. Part of you felt self-conscious when it came to your pregnancy â you no longer seemed to fit into your own skin.
âYou must be excited, with the babe on the way,â Tanea was easy to speak with, an exuberant young woman with cherubic features. âYour Lord-Husband certainly is.â She chimed, finishing with the hearth as she moved about.
âIs he?â Cregan was sometimes difficult to read, countenance permanently etched with that stoic Northern scowl of his, but you knew how happy he was. Knowing that your servants could see it filled you with delight. âI may need your assistance, Tanea.â
âVery much so, mâlady. He speaks as if he is a father already,â She fluttered to your side, assisting you in relinquishing the weight of your fur cloak and overcoat you wore. Tanea arranged the garments back into the large, wooden wardrobe. âDo you need anything else?â
âI do not,â You smiled, moving to sit atop the fur-laden footlocker at the end of your shared bed. âYou have my gratitude, Tanea.â The girl curtsied, a proper gesture, before making her way from your chambers.
Intrigued, you happened to admire the new gowns strewn across your bed, many of them styled in the Northern way of dress, save for your evening shifts. One in particular caught your eye, made of sage-hued silk, translucent and frilly, the sleeves billowing.
Pinching the fabric between your fingers, you decided on wearing it to bed, pushing yourself up right as you organized the rest elsewhere, into the space of your wardrobe. Heavy footfalls resonated outside of your door, with it creaking open to give way to Cregan.
Your mountain of a husband carried two bowls of steaming stew, placing them down along the small, rounded table. The intricate carving of a wolf rested along the tableâs edge, made of wood from the Wolfswood. âAre you tired?â He inquired, removing Ice from his shoulders, scabbard and all, placing it near his bedside.
After you had become with-child, he kept it close, in case of any unsightly, dire circumstances. He would not ever allow himself to be defenseless in your presence. You had thought it to be somewhat overly cautious, but you did not dissuade him otherwise.
âNot really,â You hummed, reaching for the many pins keeping your braids in-place. You removed them one by one, placing the ruby-studded needles upon your vanity. It felt better to let your hair down, pale tresses cascading across your shoulders in soft waves. âI am perfectly awake.â
Creganâs visage was one of clear appreciation and adoration as he stepped closer, admiring the way you looked. âYou are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.â He insisted, hands moving to assist you in unlacing your dress. This was a common practice with each passing night â you enjoyed it.
Warmth crept along your features as you stood still, allowing him to untie your bodice with his calloused fingers, until the garment loosened. âYou are much too kind, husband.â Stepping from your gown, you were left in a white slip, one that had grown somewhat uncomfortable with its tightness.
âIt is not a kindness, but the plain truth.â Cregan replied, pressing a kiss against the pale crown of your head, inhaling a gust of your saccharine scent. âYou are my beautiful wife.â He affirmed with a grunt, and moved away to change into his own smallclothes. Abandoning his leather and armor always felt unusual for him.
There was no debating your husband, whose stubbornness was sometimes renowned. Instead, you smiled, abandoning the snug, ivory fabric for your field of sage, hastily pulling it on over the swell of your stomach.
It gave you ample time to observe Cregan, whose musculature ensnared you time and time again. He was impressively thick, broad-shouldered and built like the Wall itself. Seeing him standing there in just his trousers made something hot stir between your legs.
You crept forward, shamelessly wrapping your arms around him from behind, and you could feel a tremor throughout his body when he huffed. âI have a handsome husband, a perfect husband â and that is the plain truth.â You hummed, cold cheek burying itself against the warmth of his skin.
Wordlessly, you peppered soft kisses against his spine, and to any scars and bruises that you could see. You listened to the sharp exhale from your husband, who did not protest your actions. Your lips felt like the kiss of snow, still cold from the chilly outdoors.
Cregan let you stay that way, and in-truth, he enjoyed it thoroughly. Those large, calloused hands placed themselves atop yours, lifting both to his lips as he kissed your knuckles. He let them drop, and you caressed him wherever you could. The gesture was soft, but he couldnât deny the growing sensuality present between you both.
âFor the blood of the dragon, your hands run cold, wife.â Cregan rumbled, soothingly tracing his fingers across your wrist, feeling your physique against his back, including the swell of your belly. You pressed your palms against his abdomen, able to feel the taut, subtle muscle there.
âIt is a good thing that I have you to warm them,â The silky, soft resonance of your voice brought him comfort. You sounded so relaxed and blissful, feeling him sluggishly turn around within your hold. Cregan cupped your cheek, rough pad of his thumb tracing across your lips. You kissed his thumb. âKiss me.â
Creganâs lips twitched into the ghost of a smile, and he instead gestured to the meal heâd brought with him. âOnce you eat and have proper sustenance, I might indulge you then, beloved.â He mused, noticing the twinge of disappointment on your face.
âMight?â There was an upward inflection within your tone, as if the mere suggestion of might had offended you to some degree. Your burly husband then caged you within his embrace, palms soothingly caressing along your hips. âMust you insist on tormenting me?â You teased.
With a low grunt, Cregan reached for his tunic, eyes twinkling with mirth. âFor now.â Tugging on the dark blue linen of his nightshirt, he gestured for you to eat, sitting beside you at the table. His own chair groaned in protest, and before he knew it, you were devouring your stew.
A mouthful of warm, seasoned broth filled your maw, accompanied with hearty chunks of venison and stewed vegetables. The cuisine in the North differed greatly from the South, not that you minded. You often felt more fulfilled after meals than you used to.
âGods, that was wonderful,â You groaned, the stew satisfying your cravings. It warmed you to the bone, causing a shudder to roll down your spine as you finished, nudging the bowl aside. âI could eat several servings of that.â Your confession prompted Cregan to smirk.
âFamished, were you?â Cregan mused, watching as you moved out of your chair, cradling your stomach with one hand. He very nearly rushed to assist you, but he knew you wouldâve swatted him aside.
âQuite, but I am eating for two. Your child needs it as much as I do,â You remarked, wandering toward the hearth as you extended one palm toward the fire. The comforting heat licked across your flesh, the orange light dancing over your features. âMuch better.â
Cregan joined you not long after, guiding you to sit atop the large footlocker at the end of your marital bed, closest to the open flames. His rough fingertips glided over the plane of sage-hued silks, as he admired your womanly form through the fabric. âThis suits you.â He rumbled, gently tugging on the silk to accentuate his point.
âTanea had the seamstress craft me new clothing, given that Iâve grown quite a bit,â Admittedly, you felt some insecurity in your current state, afraid that your husband may not enjoy you as he once had. âI am glad that you like it, husband. I was worried that you wouldnât.â
Perplexed, chestnut brows furrowed together, his countenance one of clear concern. Slipping an arm behind you, he calmly stroked your side, silently beseeching you to tell him of your worries. He knew what it pertained to, even if it was left unspoken. âYour worries are misplaced. I love you.â He assured.
âIt isnât just that, I â I suppose I feared that you wouldnât still enjoy me this way. Most husbands in the capital seemed so disinterested when their wives began to show.â This wasnât the South, and Cregan was as far from a disinterested husband as one could get. He kissed your jaw, letting you rest against him.
âYou are carrying our child, the heir to Winterfell â I would continue to love you regardless of what your body might look like. Damn the Southerners,â Cregan murmured, planting a hand atop your belly. âI look at you and I see my wife â I see perfection. My heart calls your name.â For a man so rugged and rough, his words made your blood surge with exhilaration.
Joining his hand, you placed your palm atop his, the one firmly perched against your belly. If Cregan were being truthful with himself, he found you to be painfully beautiful like this, swollen with his child, knowing that he put a pup in you. Those lascivious fantasies had now become reality.
âĂuha dĆna zokla,â My sweet wolf â your High Valyrian often brought him to heel, bringing out the sirenâs lull within your voice. Cregan had made a valiant effort to learn some of the language for you, but it never sounded as pleasant on his Northern tongue. âI am yours.â You beamed, lilac hues glistening with ardor.
Bringing a calloused palm to your face, he traced the fine plane of your cheekbone, reveling in the velveteen texture of your flesh. A wolf, brought to heel at his dragonâs side. Cregan studied your Valyrian features, basking in your beauty, coaxing you in for a kiss.
Your mouth was disarmingly soft, catching him off-guard, stealing away all of his coherency. He felt you turn inward, palm planting itself against the thick, corded muscle of his thigh, gripping him tightly as he deepened your kiss.
Something warm stirred within him, a longing to feel your body against his, able to detect the hitch within your breath as he drew you closer. Your wanton need radiated from you in thick, permeating waves, enough to bring him into the intricate web of your desire.
âEasy, wife.â Cregan rumbled, wanting to temper your carnality before it raged into that of a dragonâs flame. Your pleading gaze suggested otherwise, prompting him to caress along the length of your spine. âI do not wish to hurt you.â
A begrudging sigh escaped your lips as you incessantly tugged at his tunic, staring at your husband with furrowed brows. âYou wouldnât,â You uttered, tracing your fingers over his heart. âWe do not have to commit the entire act. I simply want to enjoy you in other ways â I miss it.â
Subtlety wasnât your strongest suit, and Cregan knew this. Arousal stirred within him, cock twitching at your lascivious insinuations. âHm,â A soft growl left him, one that seemed to share your sentiments. âIs that what my lady commands of me?â He murmured, holding you close.
âShe does,â You hummed, treating him to a playful smile as you reached for his chestnut tresses. One of your hands slithered beneath his tunic, feeling along the solid, thick muscle of his abdomen. He stroked at your belly, a stern hum reverberating within his throat. âGods, I need you.â You exhaled.
With your need laid bare, Cregan heeded you with a fire swirling within his gut. His hand dipped down to the apex of your thighs, pushing beneath your silken shift until he found your cunt. Gods, you were wet already, a tantalizing thing, one that he found delight in.
âYou are warm already, beloved.â Creganâs thunderous timbre raked down your spine, effortlessly gaining your subservience with ease. You shivered, feeling his thick fingers deftly caress across your slit, teasing and toying with you, gathering your slick.
Feather-light touches would have to suffice as Cregan lazily pressed one digit against your clit. His mouth found the slender expanse of your neck, delivering hot, passionate kisses against your throat.
A simpering whine tore past your parted lips, one filled with such urgency as you shifted closer, writhing against the sensation of his hand. Any lick of friction would do, consuming your body with its amatory heat. He grunted into the hollow of your throat, kissing you wherever you could.
Your own mouth found the impressive bulk of his shoulder, seeking to bring your teeth into his flesh. A sonorous, rumbling grunt left your husband when you bit him, leaving behind the crescent marks of your teeth. If it werenât for your pregnancy, he wouldâve marked you in this way, too.
Seeking the softness of your mouth, Creganâs mouth twitched into a threadbare smirk as he kissed you hard, letting it linger as his hand withdrew from your skirts. A groan of disappointment left you, but he intended on making up for it fully.
He moved off of the footlocker, planting a lasting kiss against your brow. Towering over you, Creganâs shadow eclipsed most flickers of firelight, gray hues swirling with warmth as he bent the knee to you, his beloved. It was a mesmerizing sight, one that you reveled in.
His massive musculature bullied its way between your thighs, warm palms shifting to caress along your legs, from ankle to calf. He had never seen someone as resplendent as you, breathtakingly beautiful, the blood of the dragon, his wife.
Gathering your skirts within your hands, you fisted the silks, dragging them up until they pooled around your hips. Warm lips embraced the crook of your knee, peppering kisses across your leg, until he reached the velvet flesh of your inner thighs.
Your hips began to tilt forward, seeking the pleasant heat of his mouth, a heat that he gladly granted you time and time again. Cregan kissed his way to the slick warmth between your legs, a thunderous exhale escaping him, chest vibrating with a grunt.
Cregan gingerly adjusted your position, letting your legs rest against his broad shoulders, your back sloped against the furs and footboard of your bed. He pressed a kiss against your mound, nose buried near your pelvis before he made his descent.
A warm lap of his tongue dragged itself over your core, like hot embers raking across your cunt. You sighed, blissfully succumbing to wanton desire, reaching for his crown of chestnut tresses, gripping at the back of his skull. âCregan.â You whined, head rolling forward just a bit.
Pale waves framed your face, countenance contorted into an expression of sheer and utter bliss, brows furrowing together. Your husband happily found his solace between your legs, mouth pressing hot kisses across your cunt. His hand gripped at your haunch, the other trailing against your leg.
It was ambrosial, your taste; a finest stout, sweetest of nectars that stained his lips with your perfection. Cregan lapped at your cunt, dutiful and attentive, ensuring to find every spot that made you gasp for air.
Nimble digits fisted into the furs at your side, mouth agape as a myriad of throaty moans escaped you. Your hand roamed through his tresses, tugging and pulling whenever his tongue graced the pearl of your cunt.
Splitting past your folds, Cregan tasted every inch of you, tongue seeking your cunt with a fervor. He was vigorous in his ministrations, not shying away from consuming every drop of your arousal. His nose brushed against your mound, hands kneading into your thighs to reassure you, let you know that he had you.
Any inkling of roughness had dissipated from him in the wake of your pregnancy, replaced with a passionate devotion, a rapture reserved only for you. His strong hands held you close, caressing you wherever he could.
You tasted sweet upon his tongue, honey-thick and a feast to sate his appetite. If he would choose his fate, it would be in between your legs, listening to the myriad of moans and throaty whimpers leave you. It was satisfying to know how much you enjoyed this; derived pleasure from it.
A tremor gripped your legs, little spasms of delight making their way throughout your body. Creganâs mouth forged a blazing path from the hood of your cunt to your entrance, tongue greedy and hot, before he went back up again, seeking your sensitive pearl.
âCregan!â Gods, he brought you such pleasure, a pleasure that seemed to seep into your very bones, sate your endless yearning, for now. Your legs curled inward, tight atop his shoulders as you rocked yourself into his mouth, doing little to suppress the volume of your moans.
He pressed closer with a wolfâs appetite, throat burning with carnal hunger as he continued to lap at your slick cunt. Your arousal felt honey-thick upon his tongue, something reserved only for him, chin glistening with your nectar. Your legs squeezed at his head, and he knew that he pleasured you well.
Molten heat churned within the pit of your stomach, a sensation that you had been longing to feel again. Cregan did not relent, yet he happened to slow just enough to savor you, dragging his tongue toward that clutch of nerves at the hood of your cunt.
As soon as he pursed his lips around your clit, you nearly forgot your own name, thoughts completely derailed, scattered into a blissful abyss. Your body reacted with shivers and tremors, hand gripping at the nape of his neck with a reckless abandon.
Your back arched slightly, collarbone glittering with perspiration through the thick, warm haze of your chambers. The hearth had brought about a feverish heat, coupled with the throes of your intimate entanglement. Cregan derived satisfaction from your pleasure, delighted to please his wife.
Pliant flesh filled his palm as he cupped your derriĂšre, bringing you closer, letting you grind yourself against his mouth, use him and take whatever you needed. A grunt stirred within his chest, reverberating within his throat as he went about seeking your clit, suckling on the pearl of your cunt.
âOh Gods,â You moaned, nearly clasping a hand over your mouth to hide the salaciousness of your voice. Surely, the servants had heard you by now â you would be fortunate if all of Winterfell didnât hear you. âI â Iâm close!â Rocking forward again, you let out a whimper.
With a strangled whine, you desperately chased after your release, one that you had sorely needed. Creganâs cock twitched at the sound of your delicious moans, a shudder rolling down his spine whenever you whimpered his name. âThatâs it,â He rumbled, hot breath fanning over your core. âGo on.â His encouragement was softly spoken through his Northern timbre.
He wanted to stay there, rooted between your legs, mouth consuming your cunt as if it were his last meal; a man wrought with starvation.
Cregan favored it, thoroughly reveling in the way your body reacted to him, visceral and ecstatic. He gingerly suckled on your clit, feeling your fingers tighten within his chestnut locks, gripping him tight. He wanted you to have your release, built upon this pent-up feeling.
He could feel your encroaching release, feel the tension in your grasp, the way you let your hips continue to lurch forward. Without relenting, Cregan continued to suck at your clit, letting it intermingle with hot laps of his tongue, dutiful and fervent between your legs.
A comfortable silence filled the gap between you, intermingled with the sounds of your pleasured cries and Creganâs sonorous grunts. That heated coil within your stomach began to unfurl, bringing an onslaught of arousal with it as you bucked into his mouth.
At last, your peak consumed you in a white-hot oblivion, and you very nearly saw the stars themselves. With a strangled gasp, your legs tightened on either side of his head, followed by a blissful rush of liquid heat. Your grip began to slack upon his tresses, chest heaving from exertion.
Cregan lingered there for a few moments more, tongue caressing your cunt, cleaning up any last drop of your nectar. His mouth glistened with it when he did inevitably withdraw, lashing across his lips before he kissed your thighs, showering you in affection.
âDo you feel better?â He mused, kissing the crook of your knee before standing to his feet. You were positively hot, feeling a feverish warmth crawl across your skin, thighs shaking in the aftermath. You hastily adjusted your slip, regarding him with a gracious expression.
âVery much,â Your confession made him smirk as he helped you into bed, abandoning his tunic at the iron-wrought foot. As he settled down, you joined him, curled within the space at his side. âWould you like me to return the favor?â
Cregan never expected you to do anything that you didnât want to â never feel obligated, either. He would survive without a night of release. âTomorrow, perhaps.â He murmured, moving to rest a hand against the swell of your stomach, caressing your growing bump.
âThank you, husband â for everything.â A gentle hum left you as you placed your hand over his, allowing him to protectively cradle your stomach. You let your head rest against his shoulder, his arm holding you at his side.
A bemused huff escaped him as he peered at you with mirthful hues, gray eyes that resembled a thunderstorm. âYou neednât thank me,â He assured, briefly pressing a kiss to your temple. âYou neednât ask for it, either.â Cregan enjoyed the taste of your cunt more than anything else.
You couldnât help but smile, sheepishly moving to press a kiss against his jaw. âI love you,â You sighed, letting your ardor for him be known as you felt your eyes grow heavy. âTomorrow, I would like for us to see Silverwing. She grows lonely in my absence.â
Cregan knew how much the creature meant to you. He had met Silverwing before, but he dared not climb upon her back â youâd asked it of him several times before. âOf course, beloved.â He murmured, basking in the heat of the firelight.
A sharp, fluttering sensation blossomed throughout your abdomen, prompting you to gasp. It was sudden and unexpected, but not painful. It was foreign, and had been happening on rare occasions.
âWhat is it?â Cregan questioned, visibly concerned before you dismissed it with a bright, delighted smile. You gently guided his hand elsewhere atop your stomach, pale brows furrowing together as you searched for the source.
âThere,â You mused, joyous laughter escaping you as another kick fluttered against your joined hands. âDo you feel it?â It was heartwarming to watch the happiness glisten within his eyes, the way in which he adjusted his position to truly feel. Creganâs true smiles were a rarity, and you saw it now.
The blood of the wolf and the dragon stirred within, prompting you to smile appreciatively at your husband. This was something the both of you had made with your love, the heir to Winterfell. âThey seem strong,â Cregan remarked, leaning over to plant a kiss against your brow. âPerfect, just like their mother.â
His hand never left your belly, even as he maneuvered the furs over the both of you, letting you move to lay against the warm expanse of his chest. Cregan exhaled, staring into the dying embers of the heart, tracing his digits along the swell of your stomach.
âStrong, just like their father.â You whispered, pressing a kiss against his jaw before you settled down for slumber, shielded by the protective grasp of your Lord-husband.
#house of the dragon#cregan stark x reader#cregan stark x you#cregan stark x y/n#cregan x reader#hotd x reader#house of the dragon fanfiction#hotd fanfic#hotd smut#cregan stark#house of the dragon smut#hotd fanfiction#game of thrones x reader#game of thrones
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â§áŽáŽÉȘÊÉȘÉŽÉą: Sukuna x (Fem)Reader
â§áŽĄáŽÊÉŽÉȘÉŽÉąê±: true form!sukuna, heian era, sukuna being an ass, mentions of cannibalism, smut, bath sex, very small dom/sub undertones, rough sex, hard degradation, degrading names, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, orgasm delay/denial, dirty talk, asphyxiation, scratching, biting, dirty talk, reader is a masochist, sukuna is a sadist, reader calls sukuna master once, breeding kink, creampie, virginity loss (only hurts like a small amount bc rly it's sukuna, his dick is fucking huge), corruption kink
â§áŽĄáŽÊáŽ
áŽáŽáŽÉŽáŽ: 28,617
â§ê±áŽáŽáŽáŽÊÊ: Volcanic. If you were asked to describe, or even alone thinking about it, youâd say your devotion and passion for the man was volcanic.
â§áŽ/ÉŽ: this is long as fuck and probably one of my most in depth oneshots/smut i ever wrote but what can you expect with someone like sukuna. pls mind the tags and i hope you enjoy!!
â§twitter - ao3
It was hot, and you werenât sure if it was because of the Summer night, or because you may have been on the verge of having a hot flash due to tumultuous emotions. Â
A lone bead of sweat sliding down your temple to drip onto the collar of your kimono spoke enough for your mood as it matched the apprehension licking its way down the nape of your neck to your trail down along your spine; a startling contrast in the matter to how serene and beautiful the night looked and felt as well.
The night was quiet for the moment, the tatami door haven been opened to give view of the obsidian sky with the risen midnight moon along with the magnificence and abundance of bright stars and lonesome clouds backgrounding it for quite the observation of an onlooker looking for a sight to see. You were no stranger to being enamored by such wonderous sights, your eyelashes falling heavily over your eyes as you blinked in tune to the way a lone breeze swayed the nearby branches of a towering cherry blossom tree, that the petals of wisped away towards the mountain range the palace laid atop of and the smooth and still lake below the palace. It was a heavenly sight, another hard contrast to the inhabitant of the palace that was due any time to come home.
You supposed it was that time again as well, a sigh heaving its way out of your lungs as you dipped a foot in the rippling water of steam and circled it around until the heated liquid tickled along your ankle and soothed the aching bones in your foot. It was time for him to come home, and it was his bath time. It had been two weeks since he had left, a regular occasion he took part of for his taste of carnage and his appetite, and whenever he came back, he was always in a mess and tracking through all the hallways until he got to his designated area for bathing. You knew what he left for, the footsteps painted on the floor in crimson told enough, but that still never deterred you from continuing to service him.
Even if he was a curse, ate people (you preferred not to think about that too much, but the days he came back with his nail beds caked in blood and you spied the corner of his lips crusted in it, it got difficult sometimes), and was all around the most feared presence in the land, he was rather fickle about his baths. He spent a sustainable amount of time in them, something you hadnât expected from someone like him who spent more time dirtying himself up and dousing himself in blood then dipping himself into the relaxing water of a bath. Yet, given how he carried himself, his bath was fit for that of a King.
The onsen was closed off from a good part of the palace, remotely only near his quarters and where he lounged around for most of the day, and it was as beautiful as you had expected for how nice you noted the palace was whenever you first arrived there. Inside rather than out with dimly fire lanterns and the view you were looking out at from before, it was rimmed with a fine edge before lining itself up with various rocks holding a spout that continually poured hot water into the circular structure in a rippling rhythm that calmed your mind as much as it put your body on edge. It was wide enough for him and him alone, the sheer height of him taking up most of the bath as was and normally leaving no room for anyone else.
He truly made it for himself alone to enjoy after drawn out days.
You sighed again as your gut churned, not in trepidation per se, but more-so because you were inclined to see him again in a sick sense of affection you had taken up for him for the time you had been serving him. It was morally wrong, and perhaps a bad decision on your part to care for someone who had no regard for any human life, but you blamed it on your lack traction therefore in the matters of not having someone steer you in the right direction. Truth be told, serving the palace and him was truly all you had, something that he knew just as much as you did as it catered to his liking whenever he was in his mood to tease.
You were still deciding if that was pathetic on your half or not, and apparently it seemed to be to him if the many times you had huffed at him that youâd leave, and he had laughed in your face while goading you on told you anything.
(He had told you that you were free to leave if you so wished, but not only did that disregard the idea of you being killed over it if you left, it also disregarded the fact that whenever you said so and he aggravated you on to do it the grip heâd have on your obi or your waist spoke otherwise in a means to tell you that you werenât going anywhere regardless.
Not that you particularly minded that either, the palace was rather luxurious and offered a good amount of protection, but you only ever said that at times to feel the sting of his nails through your kimono into your skin whenever he got wound up over the idea of you leaving. He liked to tease and laugh at you knowing you truly didnât have the guts to leave him, but another part of you whispered treacherously in your ear that the mere thought of you running away from him made him angrier than he wouldâve liked for himself. And that was something you werenât sure of on your behalf whenever heâd dismiss and ignore you seemingly afterwards, but also something that only fueled your burning longing for him at the mere indication of his possessive nature over you.)
Withdrawing your foot from the water as it seemed to be accordingly to his temperature, you decided then to pass the time and bent low enough to pass your fingers through it, your knees pressed together hugging your chest as you tickled your fingertips along the ripples that seemed to calm your nerves for the time being. You tried to keep your head clear of any greying thoughts to keep your ears alive for the sounds of his footsteps, yet it was hard to focus when all you could think of was actually seeing him again. You ended up answering your earlier question to whether you were pathetic or not when you remembered that you put on a fine, white kimono embroidered with red orchids that accentuated you outstandingly, and one that he had supplied you with a while back before, for his return and the moment you had been told youâd be preparing his bath.
You didnât necessarily know why you felt anxious to see him once again, you had welcomed him back plenty of times after his âtripsâ, yet you supposed it was more-so something you always felt deep down from your lingering desire for him that you had desperately tried to ignore.
(Then again, the older servant was always the one bath duty, and it had gotten put on you as she was busy tending to cleaning other things, so you were the one stuck with making sure all of his needs for the bath heâd demand for the moment he got back were ready.)
There was a long moment of silence as you lost yourself in your thoughts involuntarily, the breeze quiet and the lonely owl that had been hooting suddenly stopping as the hairs on the back of your neck rose in all-too familiar sensation. It was a suffocating sense, blanketing you in a surge of energy that tickled your nerves and nearly feel like your ribs were tightening in on themselves. Part of you could feel that sliver of fear make itself known with a pang to your stomach and your pulse quickening, yet the other more depraved part knew exactly what it was as the hum in your lower abdomen spoke enough for you as you released a low breath when the tendrils curled around your neck.
You blinked as it abruptly dissipated from you⊠then â
âOh? Taking a bath without me? Or, perhaps, waiting on me?â
You never could find out how someone so big like him could sneak up on you like that, nor from the way you constantly kept your eyes and ears out for him, but lo and behold he always did and found it humorous if you ever jumped like a skittish cat. Nevertheless, your shoulders did jerk upwards, but you quickly stamped it down in favor of maintaining a mask of indifference rather than surprise and excitement to seeing him again. Last thing you needed was him bringing up so that you looked happy to see him again after so long to stroke his already large ego.
Yet you stood perhaps more quickly than you intended, bowing to him before looking at him while wiping your fingers along your robe and swallowing down the ball of saliva lodged into your throat to address him properly. The other trivial annoyance you didnât what to happen was your voice to crack or to choke on your words in front of him in newfound nervousness that you got to see him again and for him to start teasing you for that as well. It was bad enough he liked to egg on your feistiness to try and get you to snap.
âI didnât hear you come in; I apologize.â
His voice always slithered down your spine, the wavelengths wiggling into your brain to take home there each time you heard that low tremor leave his chest and soothe itself deep into your muscles and bones. âLost in your own thoughts? Here I was thinking you were going for a dip.â Eerily, you compared his voice and tone to that of him dragging a nail slowly down your spine, tickling you at the same time of enticing you for whatever more sensations he could bring to your mind and body. âIf you were though, then by all means donât stop on my accountâŠâ
The warmth that enveloped your face didnât help, out of annoyance or flusterment you werenât sure, but you were glad that he couldnât see your face so easily from your bent over position to see the thoughts cross over your expression and color your eyes. You stomped it down however, swallowing and holding back a sigh as you replied, âI wasnât, and I got lost in time more-so.â
The hum that left him seemed to vibrate your entire body albeit you being several feet away from him, your eyelashes falling over your eyes heavily a few times as you alternated from looking at your own feet to his. The stark contrast in the clean and smooth vision of your feet and the crimson that coated his own feet and stained the floor always caught your attention, but you had long since grown out of feeling discouraged by it. You remained bowed at the waist as you watched him walk forward a few steps, eyes on the dark ink circled around his ankles and the sound of them apparent then as he tracked more blood as he went.
You didnât rise up from your bow of respect just then, knowing he liked it when you waited for his dismissal of it as he also hated whenever people looked up at him without permission, and if the telling signs of his bare legs leading up to his thighs circled with the same onyx ink told you anything, it was that he was already nude (the man had no concept of modesty it seemed⊠well, apparently around you as you didnât know if he walked around completely bare around the other servants). It was best you didnât look for your own dignity. You could already feel the warmth take home in your cheeks and body the same time he spoke again, fighting down the urge to squirm whenever you felt the weight of his devilish eyes on you in a careful and powerful caress.
âHow unlike youâŠâ he drawled off, a tinting of humor in his voice while you watched him dip his own foot into the bath, the water tinging into a red from the essence on it, âNormally youâre the first I see and the last I get to watch go. I nearly thought you may have finally grew some guts and ran away like youâve been crying about, but seeing you accounted for in hereâŠâ His voice was always so smooth no matter the scenario, yet the way he curled his tongue around the last words and syllables to let them linger in the air stirred a sensation down into your thighs.
âThatâs not ââ
âHmm? âThatâs not ââ,â he mimicked the tone of your voice in a manner that sounded way worse and more desperate than you wouldâve liked to even admit since you knew he only did it when your voice took on a higher pitch, and heard his tongue click loudly against the roof his mouth, âWhat is it then?â
You bit into your cheek, feeling humiliated that longer you stood there in your bow and listened to him begin to pick you apart and willing yourself to not give in to biting back. However, you were none too strong in that department and found the words leaving your mouth before you could stop them. âAll the servants are always there when you come back⊠and we never leave until you say so.â
There was a short, bite of his laughter, the sound of the water rippling as you shut your eyes when you realized he was walking in, and he was just as quick to throw something back to you. âAnd yet, I see you the most. Even now after I dismissed you, you still stand there bowing⊠Perhaps seeking validation from your Master, girl?â
It was hard then, your jaw clenching as he continued to prattle off in a challenge to get you to snap at him so he could have a good laugh and toy with you as he seemed fit. The feeling of awe quickly left you in favor of burning humiliation and annoyance over his inclination to keep reminding you of his place over you and how you tried to never call him that even from the moment you met him, knowing damn well of the dastard smirk that marred his face as he said it. He could probably see your form stiffen anyway, finding sick amusement in the way he knew he could make you annoyed if he accused you of trying to suck up to him.
Bastard.
You rose back up and reopened your eyes, dead set staring at the sliding door he came through so that you could easily make your leave since he had already dismissed you and had his fun toying with you. Your fingers knotted in the front of your kimono, teeth nearly feeling as if they were going to crack and break from how hard you were gnashing them together as you glared at the door instead of him. Then you remembered why you were more anxious for his return than excited: his mouth. Forget the affection you had, you were quick to remember how much of a bastard he was that annoyed you more than anything.
âThen,â you started out, making sure you added a tinge of venom onto the tip of your tongue as you smoothed your hands down your robe, âif youâre done and Iâm not needed, Iâll be leaving.â
Your nape prickled with the feeling of being watched so intensely, though you were none too ready to look him in the eye since each time you did so sent you careening down further in the pool of treacherous and growing emotions you had for him. However, even as you went to leave, he wasnât ready to let you go so easily.
âBrat. Where do you think youâre running off to now?â
You paused, mid-footstep and your heart constricted in your chest to let that fire die away the moment the words left his mouth and a familiar pit growing inside of your stomach from the tone of his voice. You had only heard it before in hushed whispers with your blistering jealousy you tried to ignore when you caught wind of him seeking out concubines. You hated the envy that grew like an incurable parasite in your mind the moment you find out he entertained himself with others, yet it was folly whenever you realized they never did last long and usually only were sought out for one night.
A swallow broke your silence, gnawing unease and buzzing excitement bubbling inside of you as you waited for him to continue and hoped it wasnât anything that costed you your life. You were sure it was only so much before he could take your bratty attitude (but it wasnât like he never indulged himself in your feistiness), yet his inclination to egg it on and the fact you were still walking around serving him spoke for different reasons. There were your days though, as his mood swings couldâve been compared to stranger, unparalleled weather, that he outright didnât acknowledge your existence and all but turned his nose up at the âlittle human servantsâ he had for himself, and then the next day he was grinning at you in perverse asking you if you wanted to sit on his lap instead of on your knees at his feet. He was enigma in all intentions, but he was also a creature of chaos you had to walk on heated glass for in circumspection to not fall into the boiling lava below thatâd melt the flesh right off your skin with one wrong step taken too far or with too much weight applied.
After all, he was still a curse, and an awfully powerful one that could crush you at that.
âLook at me.â
Damn.
You didnât outwardly sigh in fear of him hearing it and getting put off from it, instead heaving it in and out mentally as you accepted your fate that he wasnât going to let you leave without addressing him properly. You squared your shoulders to gather up as much bravery and confidence you could to look turn and look him squarely in the eye â eyes⊠for whatever he had planned. It wasnât like you hadnât looked him dead in the eyes before, watching that stupid smirk line his mouth whenever he caught the glint of a fire in your eyes, but it had become even harder after he told you he could read you like an open book and knew every emotion you were feeling looking through your eyes alone. After that, you had done your damnedest to try and not let him know of the feelings you had for him that you knew were present in your face whenever you looked at him.
In the end you obliged him, turning slowly to finally face him and meeting his eyes after so long. His eyes were as red as they couldâve been, molten heat coming from them that liquified hard into your stomach in knots that ran free like magma cascading out of a volcano the longer you were exposed to them. And even as you stood there taking in his form relaxed and spread out in the bath becoming a tinge of a pink color from all the blood, you could only think of the growing tension that was building between you two from the amount of time you had been serving him.
Volcanic.
If you were asked to describe, or even alone thinking about it, youâd say your devotion and passion for the man was volcanic. It had been dormant the moment you saw him, watching the way all four of those eyes slid along all of the new servantsâ bodies in a lazy dispute with his chin propped up by one of the four fists he had, like he was sizing all of you up and seeing if you all were truly worthy enough to be in his presence. The lava inside of you tied to the strings of your affection for him were properly quiet and loose for then, your spine tensing and senses prickling in trepidation the moment he landed on you and did his own sweep of you head-to-toe before meeting your eyes. You had stared back with as much indifference you could endure, your shoulders laxing the moment he looked away and moved on, miffed with his bored expression and gnashing your molars together to wonder just what he wanted by all of it.
When he hadnât been looking and swept his hand through the air to dismiss all of but three of you, you took him in. The bulk and ripple in his bicep the moment he moved his hand proved his strength, the dark shade of his long nails matching the black ink circling around visible body parts told you more of him, the four arms nearly as horrifying as the mouth atop his abdomen and second face atop of him protruding outwards was telling of his nature, his hair a pretty shade of pink like the kimono you had been wearing that day and the glowing of his crimson eyes matching the blood that had stained his mouth and seeped into the cracks of floor as it dripped in tune off of his fingers the next day when you realized what had happened to the rest of the servants sans you and two others. He lived up his name then, the stories you had been told matching everything you had seen as you got down onto your knees with your cheek caught between your teeth and scrubbed away to clean the floor right below his feet.
He was⊠grotesque and monstrous; carved straight from the flesh pits of Hell by the Devil himself. Truly a curse in the world when you remembered all the atrocities he had done and the sights you had witnessed serving under him as you allowed the back his hand to wisp across your cheek and your head for your promise to him. A mock of affection you supposed, letting the hands that ripped and teared through people lay upon the top of your head in a pet in moments you sat on your knees in front of him, and it was horrifying to think about how he did it and how much you enjoyed it the more he did so.
He was plainly evil as they came, nothing but a void of obscurity that followed him in dark fog of bad luck for those he deemed it fit for. He wasâŠÂ
Sukuna.
Or as you had heard in hushed whispers the name villagers whimpered in fear at the mere thought of him: Ryoumen Sukuna.
Two-face Sukuna. You didnât understand until you saw him up close that day, unable to look away from the uncanny way he looked when all four eyes landed on you and bored into your very soul to strip away any fabrications lying overtop yourself in his name.Â
At that moment however, his name didnât scare you as much as it did back then when you had been living in your village still, alone and bound to another before you ran off at nineteen from the prospect of vowing yourself to another before you ironically curled in on that thought and ended up âvowingâ yourself to another. You couldnât remember when it changed honestly, serving him turning into⊠well, you were still serving him, but the complications that came along with it twirled away from you being just a measly servant that tended to his needs to someone that also kept his entertainment high whenever he was bored. You didnât know why it was you; perhaps it was the way you liked to stare at him, scouring every inch of his skin you couldnât find the means as to why you found him so fascinating, how you wondered someone of such an extent could even exist and how the man before you had once been a human, to the very reason of why he seemed to keep you around.
(You learned mere hours later that after cleaning the blood running through the floor that you and the other two had been the lucky ones, and you were best to be glad to be the one fitted for his presence.)
The magma inside of you had boiled the moment Sukuna first brushed against you, the muscle in his arm bigger than your head skimming along the side of you the moment he walked past and forever changing the way you looked at him whenever he brushed your cheek with an open palm. It was scalding; his skin hot with the blood of a curse coursing through his veins and deterring you from having any other focus for the rest of the day. It was an array emotions from then on out, your lust burning like hot lava in your gut every time he was near and spiraling out of control in moments youâd get your âpraiseâ whenever you did something right. You werenât too sure if he showed the same type of âaffectionâ to the other servants, but there was a part of you that it didnât quite settle well with if he did.
And it wasnât like you ever got the pleasure of the people he brought into his bed, something that clawed at your brain in envy after you realized the extent of what you were beginning to feel for the man.
Part of you felt horribly disgusted with yourself the moment you realized your heart stuttered at the sight of him and your gut twisted at the mere mention of him, your inclination (or lack of, therefore) towards the men of the village not even comparing to your captivation with the King of Curses in spite of his carnage. Though perhaps it was because he was someone you had not ever seen before, his looks and power unmatchable above all else that drew you in like a moth to a flame and your sick attraction to knowing that the man could easily kill you with a flick of his wrist, but he didnât. And that was perhaps what was so fascinating to you about everything and why your emotions went to Hell when it came to him, a burning stone inside of your mind and heart that continued to grow against your sternum brighter and larger with no intention of dying out the longer you were around him.
What made it worse was that he knew; he knew, if the intentional claw grazing across your cheek in a sign of mock affection with that smirk that was nearly too big for his face told you anything. He knew and he was playing with you, holding the strings to your puppet waving you around and wondering just when youâd crack and let him win his little game. You were none too ready to give in to him however, something that more than likely equally goaded him and annoyed him, but you knew if you wanted to keep his attention you were going to have to keep him busy with toying with you.
And so far, it seemed to be working.
Sukunaâs stare was like a white-hot cast iron pouring its contents all over your skin, seeping deep into your bones that groaned from the attention and melted away into mush inside of your muscles to leave you weak in the limbs ready to fall to your knees before him, and even as you watched his eyes do that long drag down your body and back up to your face like they always did, you already knew he was in for another round of a game. His form always captivated you, as it was in that moment from the way two of his arms were perched atop the rim of the bath and the other two lying still in the water, steam rising from his skin and water together creating a thin layer of haziness about him as the rest of his body was covered but the middle of his abdomen and up, so you were free from embarrassment of seeing the rest of him (not that it wasnât something you hadnât thought of at times, especially when you took in his towering height and double appendages).
You held his stare firmly, trying your best to not show your obvious flusterment he had brought upon you again, and the red of his eyes carved out a chunk of your gut to leave you with an even bigger pit of anxiety. Not so much that you were afraid of him, but wary of the rising fire between you two that seemed to be getting out of control the longer it was kept up with. Part of you wondered when it would eventually simmer, the fire dying and solidifying to its cool texture into that of an igneous rock in semblance of what was brewing between you two, and part of you was anticipating it ended soon.
âWhat is it?â you eventually asked, inwardly squirming from those bright eyes and masking your voice to sound less wobbly than you felt.
A fine, arched eyebrow rose on Sukunaâs face, his eyes narrowing to that of a felineâs (Sukuna was like a cat, you realized; he was a big, lazy cat flicking its tail about in a challenge for you cross over into his territory, and likewise to that of a feline toying around with you much like one would a mouse â cornering it and playing with it until it seemingly had enough) and a low hum leaving him. He made a show of eating you alive with just his stare before you watched one of his arms below the water rise, his index finger already pointed out as he flicked water off his clawed nail and turned his hand upwards, curling the long and thick appendage in a âcome hitherâ motion at you.
âCome here.â
The command made you still for a moment, your stomach suddenly flipping on itself in numerous different directions and filled the most chaotic of emotions. That phantom burn was back, cutting into your body and leaving deep lacerations along your flesh in its wake for the lava to take home and seep into your veins, while your heart stuttered at the call. You were no stranger to it, often obeying regularly and tending to whatever he wanted, but having him say it in the condition he was in was⊠not particularly something you were used to. Sukuna was well known for only wearing a layer of garment along his bottom half with no footwear or a top in sight (as well as the times he strutted around in just a kimono that showed more skin than covered it, more-so because he wore womenâs kimonos since the sleeves could fit his other arms as well, which was why you and the other servants normally got kimonos as seemed fit), so you were used to just shamelessly ogling his chest and abdomen as much as you wanted, but him nude?
Not something you got to see, and there was a part of you that wondered if he was doing it on purpose.
(Foolish of you to even consider it, you knew that he knew that he was doing it for a reason.)
Nevertheless, you followed after his call, your steps somewhat slow as his hand remained outstretched, though he changed to his palm being open and face-up. You regarded him carefully as you got close enough to stand over him, watching his nostrils flare once before he nodded his head at you to come closer with the movements of his fingers helping him as well. A swallow was all you could muster, watching as one eye watched the movement very carefully before sliding back up to your face, awaiting for you to bend down far enough to his level so that your face was closer to his.
âCloser,â he purred, full lips twitching to barely hold his sick sense of humor.
You didnât want to think on how the tone of his voice sent you mentally into another spiral, your ribs tightening and a snake wrapping itself around your stomach burning with the ravenous want for what was presented and to strike out for what it sought after. You could feel the hum along your lower belly, the sweat lining your spine ever-present as you as you felt another drop of it slide along down your back as you bent low enough for to rest your chin into his palm. Not something that hadnât been done before either, but not used to it as well since it seemed rather intimate in some situations as opposed to him sizing you up.
His hand was as warm as it always was, and fingers still strong as he closed them in on your cheeks and pressed into your face. Sukuna squeezed your cheeks so much that it puckered your lips into a pout, something you duly noted that he took into consideration as the tips of his nails slightly dug into your skin. You blinked heavily trying to hold the eye contact, no doubt knowing that he could hear and perhaps feel the increase in your breathing and the thudding of your heart as that became fact when his lips twitched and another hum vibrated through his chest. Sukunaâs long eyelashes lowered over his eyes the same instance his canines came into light from his grin, sharp and dangerous in the warm light from the lantern that did little to help ease the sculpted contours on his face lined with that dark ink.
Sukuna leant in closer to you, his smell of blood masked by the wafting heat into your nostrils and eye ducts making you blink cutely at him as one of his eyes drifted around every inch of your face, âPerhaps you werenât so eager to see me back then?â he murmured almost dreamily into your face, a front he put on whenever he was blatantly asking for you to stroke his ego, âA shame⊠Leaving so soon after seeing me.â
He squeezed your face once and relished in watching your expression push into one, before letting up enough for you to talk and grazing a nail along your cheekbone, âIâm not,â you persisted, more on the desperate side than you wouldâve liked to admit, but seeing his eyes light up at your whine encouraged you to keep speaking, âI just thought you were dismissing me⊠And Iâm always eager to see you back and I always eagerly await your return.â Your fingers clenched around the fabric of your kimono, Sukunaâs attention so close to your face making you think of less appropriate things to do to him and wonder just what it was like to feel his sharp teeth bite into your lower lip.
The grin that twisted his face was something that excited you as much as it unsettled you, like he was the cat who caught the canary and was going in for meal. His fingers squished your cheeks together once more before they drifted off, a finger trailing to pull down on your bottom lip before it slowly curled around your neck in one swift squeeze. Your thighs tightened in on themselves at the contact, his hands so much larger than your own something that never went unnoticed by you or him as his seven foot and some inches form completely dwarfed everyone in the palace. His nostrils flared in a show before he spoke, nails slightly digging into your neck as he squeezed your throat harder and his thumb rubbed along your pulse point.
âEager to please, arenât you?â
Yes, yes, yes. Your fingers knotted harder into your kimono, knuckles protruding outwards from your skin, âAlways for you, Lord Sukuna.â
âHow interesting,â he purred out once again in your face, a low vibrato that tickled your brain just right and had you biting the inside of your cheek when it warmed your body. However, nothing really prepared you for the moment he dropped his eyes down to look at your mouth, a low hum leaving again as brought his face mere centimeters away from your own.
You froze, not used to the attention he brought an intimate area like that, watching through heavy eyes and a parted mouth as he only seemed to come closer into your space.
Was heâŠ
Your face warmed heavily, steam from the Onsen not helping as you fought between looking at his lips and his eyes, his face coming closer⊠and closer⊠and closer until â
Sukunaâs hand abruptly left your throat, flicking your forehead before pressing a finger there as he suddenly leant back away from you and pushed you away by the finger on your forehead. He had the gall to look disinterested again, like he was annoyed as another hand rose to scratch at the inside of his ear whilst looking off the side and examining the nails on another hand.
âThen you can wash my hair⊠and clean my nails. I canât be bothered to do it right now since youâre so willing.â
The heat from the water just below you wasnât enough to keep that foggy screen you were looking through at him up, the dousing chill you felt encase your body overwhelm you the moment he pushed you away by just a finger was enough to bring you out of your stupor. Whatever fog you had conjured up in a hazy mist looking at him whenever he had your face in his hand completely dissipated as he disregarded you from that odd little playout you two were having. Of course, what were you thinking? Sukuna never once really showed intimate affection that of a kiss to anyone so far from what you had seen, so what would have made you so different? It was your girlish wants, your long-time dream since you were a child to have a King or just a strong man offer up some affection to you, to have your first kiss by someone so powerful and take you into their armsâŠ
It was every womanâs dream down in the village you had been born into, full of prospering life and growing by the day, but also your village was only down the mountain away from you lived as of then. And the King that you all looked up to was not the king your mother had read to you about in bedtime stories.
In reality, you were longing from a kiss from the Devil himself nearly; inhumane in his features and actions, and not a King that was seeking a Queen more than he was seeking out the means to drive fear into people to let it be known he was the dominant lifeform in their world. Sukuna was the one they needed to fear and was to respect, and he was the one that got it, because no one in their best mind would dare to oppose him â unless, of course, you wanted to talk about the abundance of sorcerers that had it out for him. Nevertheless, when you took in your situation and the reminder of your less than inclined attitude to seek out the men in your village rather than a curse, you supposed you could only blame yourself for falling up short and deeming yourself a true fool like he would call you.
You respected Sukuna, and, as much you wanted to bask in his affections and wanted him, in that same dance you could not stand his presence at times.
âThen you can wash my hair⊠and clean my nails. I canât be bothered to do it right now since youâre so willing.â
You couldnât stand him. He was annoying.
The entirety of the words caught within your throat you wanted to say to him felt like vomit stuck to your tongue, leaving you to steady yourself after his show of indifference to cover your humiliation as one-hundred words of varying degree ran through your mind at his behavior. You shouldâve expected it though, it wasnât the first time Sukuna toyed with you and you had gotten your hopes up for a sliver of affection, and it wasnât the first time that it happened either for you to get caught up in thinking he was obliging you only for him to feign innocence and order you to do something else entirely. He was a conniving bastard really.
Moreover, you swallowed it all down, maintaining eye contact with the lower eye he had directed at you still to gauge your reaction whilst still inspecting his disgusting nails, and bowed with your cheek caught between your molars hard enough to draw blood, âAs you wish.â You really were pathetic, werenât you?
The noise that pushed passed Sukunaâs lips sounded more like a huff, like he was aggravated that you were obeying his orders instead sneering at him that he played with your wants and you were just obedient as always.  He perplexed you in more ways than one at instances like so, as he demanded and expected the worldâs best respect from his servants and âdisposedâ (read: killed and ate) the ones that didnât meet those expectations. You knew Sukuna was a complex being, his interests being so flippant and his moods changing so fast it gave you whiplash, but for being fussy about wanting you to get down on your knees with your forehead to the floor praising him he sure did prod at you to get you lash out at him like you had done that one timeâŠ
You preferred not to think of it too much, a sigh you kept welled up in your lungs as you meandered over behind him, as the look in Sukunaâs eyes that day frightened you as much as it had excited you. It wasnât that he was particularly angry, the dilated pupils spoke enough for that, but you didnât realize how much he liked it whenever you finally spoke around him that wasnât your mumblings that he made you repeat because he âcouldnât hear youâ. Truth be told, you didnât think about it often because it got you more⊠desireful than you wouldâve liked to admit, and that defiant streak you had hidden underneath the constrictions of your kimonos came to life every time you saw that light in his eyes.
You ignored Sukunaâs little predator stare he was shooting at you as you came to stand behind him, a frown marring your face as you realized the only way to âtendâ to him was to sit directly behind him⊠with your legs opens⊠and perhaps nearly having your legs over his shouldersâŠ. Bath duty was going to be the death of you.
The throb that emitted from within was a tickling sensation along with the presence of dampness rubbing against you, like your heartbeat was finding a home elsewhere and very familiar to you when you remembered it was same exact feeling you had felt welling up in your lower abdomen on a night that you had slid your fingers underneath your kimono and into your undergarments when you remembered that Sukuna was â
Sukunaâs head shifted, two bright, cherry-colored eyes finding your own in deadly precision that rooted you to your spot and diminished all thought in your mind whenever he spoke so quietly and sharp you had to strain to hear him.
âWhat are you doing?â
You blinked along with a small swallow, focusing on the dab of blood along his sculpted jawline and reprimanding yourself for getting aroused at merely the thought of your bare thighs touching his (bulging, ridiculously muscled, big) shoulders and arms and pulled yourself together enough to answer him. âI⊠Iâll have to sit behind you, to wash your hair that is.â
Sukuna gave you a languid blink, âAnd your point is?â
Ah yes, what was my point? âI was just letting you know that since I know you donât like being touched without permissionâŠâ Youâd be lying if you said you didnât speak between clenched teeth at his haughty behavior.
âThatâs hardly a problem⊠However ââ You didnât necessarily like the way his face split up into another Cheshire grin, a perverse nature in the way he slid one eye along what he could see of your body, âseems like that kimonoâs a little too tight to spread your legs in, take it off and youâll have an easier time. Donât wanna mess it up either, do you?â
Despite what may have been Sukunaâs true intentions to get a peek of your form for his own pleasure, he was right. Your obi had been tied securely that morning, like it always was since you hated constantly readjusting it whenever you were tending to your daily duties, and the kimonos normally were restricting as was, but that still didnât quell the bundle of tickles welling up in the acid of your stomach at the mere thought of just undressing in front of him. Having a nagajuban on underneath helped some and you could easily move your legs better in it, but it was also one less layer of fabric that separated you from Sukuna and it was rather thin.
Nevertheless, you complied him with a bow and flusterment evident in your eyes, deftly undoing your obi and the articles that helped secure your kimono in place before you were slipping your arms up through the silk sleeves and unraveling yourself free of the kimono. And all the while as you did so, he stared. That same stare you got whenever he was in a mood and wanted to toy with as deemed fit; the heat of the gaze of which hotter than the water in bath as you felt it prickle along your skin in chills in a phantom burn that boiled much like lava inside of a volcano ready to erupt. It was unnerving as it was seducing, feeling two eyes that time slide along the silhouette of your figure through the reedy fabric of your robe as you pulled yourself free of the extravagant kimono and folded it up to lie on a nearby jutting rock, and whenever you returned your gaze back to him he had nothing but that slick smirk split up on his face and eyes dilated as he shamelessly looked at you from head to toe.
âThatâs better. Now câmere,â he wiggled two fingers at you, eyelashes lowering in a way that shouldnât have made him look as handsome as it did, âIâve waited long enough.â
Sukuna was going to be the death of you. Metaphorically or literally, you werenât sure, but you knew the costs of what you were getting into the moment you stuck around and followed after him like some lost puppy.
You gave him another nod, trying your best not to sneer at the back of his head whenever another short laugh left his chest as he faced back forward, and took the most inaudible, long inhale and exhale as you could before lowering yourself down to sit behind him. Even then you knew that any type inspiring mental talk you tried to put yourself through, that nothing wouldâve really prepared for what you were going to do. You had touched Sukuna before in brushes much like he did you, but what you were going to do then didnât compare at all.
The heat from Sukunaâs body was radiating, already making you flutter your eyes from the mere onslaught of it so close to you as you came down on your knees first, the thin layer of your nagajuban letting your covered knees skim across the expanse of his broad back. It was then you realized sitting on your knees wouldnât work, pulling them out from under you with your cheek caught between your teeth as you wiggled your feet into the free space that wasnât took up by the sheer mass of his body. Still, even then your knees were slightly digging into his shoulder blades, warm skin from his body churned your stomach and made you spread your legs further to try and help quell the familiar, uncomfortable knot growing within you at the mere thought of touching him.
You squirmed a fraction, lightly wincing at the all-telling sensation of dampness coating you that youâd have to care of later that night.
And in front of you, Sukuna cracked the knuckles in his fingers.
You tried not to think about the contrast in the light of your robe and the darkness of a spread tattoo scaling down his shoulder blade brushing against one and another, instead swallowing your anxiety as best as you could and ready to ask him what he wanted done first when you abruptly stopped by a splash of water hitting your face.
One arm of his had suddenly rose, a hand flicking all five of its fingers as he presented it to you to flick the droplets in your face, and his voice droning out as you blinked the hot water free of your eyelashes. âStart with my nails, youâre a woman so you should know how to do it⊠Though, your nails are disgusting half the time.â
Bastard.
Thankfully he couldnât see the way you rolled your eyes, grimacing at the back of his head while keeping your hateful words to yourself when you obliged him and took hold of the hand he was presenting to you. Never mind that they were painfully calloused and as warm as ever, the size of Sukunaâs hands compared to your own would forever startle you â Hell, the size of his hands whenever he brushed them across your face was horrifying. He was larger than you on every way, something that shouldâve frightened you and made you turn away, but even as you sat there digging your nails to pick free dried blood and flesh bits embedded into his own, you couldnât find the means to turn away in disgust from him.
And on your own accord, you still obliged him, cleaning his nails free of any gunk to his liking.
(Though, he had the audacity to tell you that your nails were disgusting when his were always coated in old blood and pieces of human flesh whenever he ripped through people and didnât have Uraume present to cook for him, and you were more-so annoyed that he was just being a hypocrite and prodding at you.)
Whenever you had finished one hand and were pulling free a rotten piece of skin from underneath his thumbâs nail on the second, he spoke while flicking water about, âYour sharp ass knees are digging into my back, move them.â
You wouldâve grumbled if you didnât think heâd dunk you underwater, obliging him as you then decided to be slightly cheeky and throw your legs over his shoulders, calves sitting snugly atop them as your feet rested along his pectorals. He gave no reaction much to your chagrin, perhaps a slight tilt to his head to acknowledge that you had put them there, but otherwise it seemed he didnât care. Unsurprising given Sukunaâs odd nature to randomly touch you whenever he felt like it, but a win on your part since it wasnât so often you were freely able to touch him.
Once you had grimaced and flicked his nails free on the second hand and moved onto his third, Sukuna graced you with his own version of light conversation, something you werenât necessarily used to given his penchant of cooing at you in backhanded compliments and ways to get you to stroke his ego. Though, you perked every moment that he actively spoke, whether it was to you individually or not.
âYou interest me, you know that?â
You paused, surprised and perplexed at the claim, and turned your gaze a stray pink strand of hair curled over his ear, âIâm not sure what you mean.â
He casted a long look at you from over his shoulder, a glittering red eye sharpened and narrowed down as it nearly felt like he pulling your soul out bare for him to observe and prod at as he seemed fit. âDonât play coy, girl, you donât think I donât know of your little situation?â
Situation⊠You had various ideas running along in your head to what he couldâve been alluding to, but the one that stuck to you the most was you ever-growing feelings for him that you were sure he had eventually caught onto. Still, you wanted to at least try and play ignorant with him in hopes he got impatient and just told you instead of dangling it above your head. âI still donât â"
Sukuna mimicked your voice again, cutting you off and flicking a hand through the water, ââI still donât ââ, bah, donât give me that innocent bullshit you like to pretend you have with me,â he turned forward with a sneer, but a hand from underneath the water rose to curl its fingers around your ankle, scratching at your skin there before trailing a long nail up your calf, âA girl unmarried comes here from the village⊠Willingly as well. Canât tell if youâre just stupid or got a death wish, but given your⊠situation thereâs a little more to the story, isnât there?â
Your skin puckered and tickled from his ministrations, something he caught on to as the tip of his nose grazed along the side of your knee, dangerously close to your inner thighs while he sniffed you in his course. He repeated the motion twice before he pinched your calf and sent you a hard look from underneath his eyelashes, a signal he wanted you to speak up and answer him before he lost interest and left you hanging.
And if there was anything you wanted, it was Sukunaâs full interest in you.
âYou said it yourself,â you managed out, rubbing your thumb along the jointed bone in his middle finger, âpeople do get insufferable at times.â
Sukunaâs nose tickled along your inner thigh so delicately as you felt your lower abdomen twist and flip at the action, nerves coursing through your spine and veins as he pulled away and circled his nail around your Achilleâs heel. He hummed once while alternating between your balancing your leg up on one finger and bouncing it, an air of inquisitiveness to him as he regarded your words. âHow odd of you to say, turning against your own species. Still, satisfy my curiosity; what was it? Are you just âadventurousâ, looking for a way out in life? Hmm, that doesnât suit you, you hardly ever roam around here; maybe itâs something deeper, huh?â
You didnât answer him right away, his thumb nail dipping into your foot enough to draw a small dab of blood that you didnât shy away from. Nor did you feel disgust when he turned his head enough for you to watch his ridiculously long tongue fall free of his mouth and lick up a slow trail to let the stray blood broken free of your skin seep into his tastebuds. You could see the ink on his tongue that matched the markings on his body, but you were more enamored in the way his tongue felt lapping along your flesh, the length of which you were aware, but the feeling of it tickling along you in wet laps, hot from his carcass of a mouth and puckering your skin was⊠enticing.
You wondered if you tasted good to him, a devious thought crossing your mind whenever you briefly thought it would feel like to have his tongue drag its way up your inner thighs until wiggling along a place that had never been touched before⊠a place you were more than willing to allow him to defile if he so wished. It was no secret Sukuna had sex, but it was always a want to know what it was like â not just in general, but with him.
The coil that had been steadily growing in your belly pulled considerably at the path your mind suddenly took, deep in the recesses of your mind thoughts that you only conjured up late at night, and your expression withered into that of mock pain as you flexed the calf he was holding from all the attention. Sukuna cut his eyes back to you, wriggling his tongue back into his mouth and a low hum rumbling of his chest as he assessed your expression.
âWhat was it?â he continued without missing a beat, dismissing the fact that he had just licked you, âParents about to marry you off to some flesh bag down there and you just couldnât stand the idea of being tied down? How droll, living the rest of your little life serving someone, I could only imagine how it burns you up insideâŠâ
âŠWhat was he getting at?
âOr ââ his curled all fingers around your ankle, and squeezed, âPerhaps they canât handle you, your bratty mouth is enough to speak for and I donât think anyone would put up with it⊠so maybe you ran off thinking you could find someone that could live up to your wantsâŠâ Sukunaâs nails dug into your foot harder, scratching away at your skin as more blood ran free and coated his appendages in a startlingly crimson. It seemed he was truly just an insatiable creature when it came to his appetite â be it flesh or other wants in general, Sukuna was voracious.
You winced at the wounds, the sting of pain burning just for a moment until it numbed out, replacing a heated hum within your mind and body at the rough treatment, and you waited for him to elaborate further. Your mind was less than stable for the moment, wondering just how he seemed to know everything about you when you never even spoke of your past to him. Though, he had a point when he mentioned your deep-rooted desiresâŠ
âSo?â he prodded at you, catching your attention before it wandered off too far, âTell me. Maybe your dearest father sold you off and youâre covering it up because you canât take the fact they didnât want you. Donât be so upset about it⊠all the women like that end up here; just damaged goodsâŠâ His voice tampered off into a sick purr, like he enjoyed the idea you may have had issues with your family and it was why you ended up at his palace, and his tone trailed into something that offered a façade of softness. He was talking to you like he was taking pity on you, but if it wasnât for the condescending way he was speaking and overall, his personality, you might have believed him.
But alas, he was Sukuna. He loved tearing people apart â physically and mentally.
He squeezed you harder when you remained silent, quiet from the way he was analyzing you as the bones in your foot began screaming at the pressure and your blood began sliding and curling around his forearm like a snake constricting itself around him when he broke skin. You couldnât stand how blood complimented his skin, like he was born to be a predator in all his intentions â like he was born to be murderer and shroud himself in an ominous fog for the remainder of the time he walked the Earth.
Like people were supposed to fear him for all of time (how long had he already been alive for; how long would he be alive for? Heâd outlive you for sureâŠ).
You watched his lips part again, those canines you fantasized seeming much larger from the shadows the lanterns were casting, and decided to answer him before he had another chance to try and insult you or assume you abandoned by your family.
âThatâs not it,â you snapped out, watching that gleeful grin split his face at the fast way you responded and when you thumb pressed down onto the bottom knuckle of his pinky finger. It wasnât enough pressure to break it, Sukunaâs body was practically indestructible when it came to humans and you had unfortunately witnessed him growing back a foot once when it had gotten severed in a fight (youâd never forget the way it all molded back in bone, muscles, tendons and flesh, nor the sounds it made), and continued before he had a moment to prattle off again. âMy parents love me, and my mother knew I didnât want to marry since she was arranged herself⊠But thereâs only so much they could do anyway and they tried to keep me hidden, butâŠâ you stopped and scowled, remembering the priestess of the village pairing you up before you had ultimately left everyone and everything behind.
After that, it was how you wandered into Sukunaâs domain, seeking a new life in a place you wouldnât have been able to ever been found by anyone that knew you. What you didnât expect was seeking a way of salvation in the means of someone who couldnât quite offer it.
He was quiet for a few moments, eyes scaling across every inch of your face, possibly seeing ever blemish, pore, markings, and any imperfections as he went, before he hummed and arched an eyebrow, âAnd yet, you still left them. Canât imagine how that broke their little hearts, and canât imagine your poor little husband-to-be,â he broke into a hiss, eyes staring at you, but more-so they were looking through you and he was seeing something else entirely together, âYou donât wanna go back to a place where youâll be living a like little placeholder doing what youâre told to do, but you come here to nearly do the same and you donât want to leave⊠Why is that?â
He knew, and he just wanted to hear you say it.
You swallowed, holding his gaze steady and murmuring out the words that nearly got lost in breeze outside and the steam rising from the bath, âIâm perfectly fine hereâŠâ
You didnât answer his second claim, too afraid of his reaction.
Sukuna abruptly freed your ankle, eyes dangerously narrowed in a heavy smolder and his tongue making itself seen again as he curled and swiped it along all his fingers to lick your blood free of him and left your leg alone to sit atop his shoulder. A breath of a dark and velvety chuckle left him, tickling at your brain and making your skin erupt into more chills at the way it vibrated through your legs and the rest of your body as he pulled free his third hand to give you his fourth while rolling his neck and facing back forward. You took his hand without a word, slowly going back to cleaning underneath his nails as you tried to process that he truly had picked you apart without even you having to tell him anything.
âSo interesting. You little brat, you oughta be grateful then⊠If only they could see you now though.â
You didnât have an answer to that, your lungs squeezing for you to take a breath and your heart slamming against your ribcage, Â knowing damn well if your parents found out you were serving and lusting after the man everyone feared theyâd be crushed you were in his clutches. However, theyâd believe you didnât come to him willingly, believe you to be hypnotized by the curse from one of his abilities, though it was far from the truth. And you were grateful, you had stayed at the palace for a long while and nothing had become of you (read: you becoming his dinner), which was why your captivation by him only seemed to grow and you wondered if Sukuna only kept you around for you to tend to his needs.
You had half a mind to say something, thinking that perhaps his little speech was of means to get you to confess on why you had lingered about for so long and never actually tried to escape like some of the other servants did, but Sukuna was Sukuna, he didnât care about petty, little, insignificant human feelings. Part of you thought about placing your hand atop the side of his chest, spreading your fingers along the significant width of it to look for that steady beat underneath all the flesh, blood, muscle, and bone to see if his heart still beat; a silly thought of your behalf, he wouldnât be walking if he didnât have a heart, but you assumed it more to coax you in a metaphorical sense than physical. Your affection for the man was far beyond that of only wanting to be his bedmate, something you knew you would never get no matter what, something that was incredible foolish of you to think of as you could feel the Gods smiting you for thinking youâd ever be anything more than another human to Sukuna, and nothing more than that of a pet to him.
And for that, you kept your mouth shut, keeping your true wants of wanting to feel him in more places through your kimonos tucked away in your heart and only obliging him for whatever he wanted when he asked.
You really were pathetic.
Sukuna didnât speak again for a while, long enough for you to finish on his last hand and move to wash his hair. The pretty pink locks were always in an arrange tangles for the most part, slicked back on his head with oil and matted with⊠other essences you didnât like to think about as you were meticulous in the way you washed it. When his shoulders relaxed as your nails scratched through his scalp, you grinned behind his head in victory, spending a less than needed amount of time there since it seemed he liked attention in that spot as you freed it of more gunk. Though, wrangling another particularly hard knot free and soothing your fingers through the strands, you took notice the unease in the atmosphere; Sukunaâs biceps bunching in like coiled snake poised to strike, and the veins in his forearms and hands making themselves known in a show of his rising agitation.
He was getting annoyed.
You were ready to ask him what was wrong or you were doing something he didnât like, stomach becoming heavy with anxiety, but he beat you to the punch with a series of words that that horrified you more than that time he had you feed him severed fingers like grapes into his reclined form and awaiting maw doused in the bits of flesh and blood that came from them.
âIâm bored now. And Iâm sick of playing this little game youâve conjured up.â
Fear struck you for a moment, a feeling of absolute terror that Sukuna had grown bored with your existence entirely and was about to dispose of you threatening to make you literally bow your head into the floor and beg for him to keep you around. You hadnât wanted to sound so desperate for him, but (pathetically) he was all you had and you would have been telling the biggest lie if you said he wasnât what your mind and body had been craving the moment you laid eyes on him.
The words were on your tongue, ready to plead with him to give him whatever he wanted and start up a rebuttal that if you were so interesting that it would be best if he kept you around, when the familiar sensation of his nails grazing the skin around your ankle stopped you, letting your eyes wander over the way the tip of them so deadly but gently drew a pattern around the bone of your ankle before he curled his fingers around it in a strong grip. The heat from his fingers was boiling, nearly feeling that he was searing into your skin to melt the flesh away until he could feel your bone, and you opened your mouth to say⊠anything, but were thrown for a loop when suddenly your vision was warped and your world bent and turned upside down.
Literally.
Sukuna tugged once and one moment you were staring at his nails scratching at your ankle and coiled his long fingers around it, then the next you were underwater.
You didnât get a moment to even process really how it had happened (your mind quickly concluding though after you heard the splash that he had dragged you over his head â flipping you â and into the bath) or how the hot water was pricking into your face like needles, stinging and burning your skin in stabs as you gritted your teeth before you felt his hands curl under your armpits and lift you free from being underwater. Your nose was clogged from the onslaught and your eyes watery from the invasion, something you tried dastardly to rid yourself of before you faced him and let an array of words fly off your tongue if you hadnât finally looked him in the eye after coughing and sniffing through all the water.
You were pissed, and he knew that. And it was something he was expressing extreme humor in as well.
Sukuna had that same grin on his face, gleefully taking in your face and the rest of your body that was presented to him as you only glared with about as much dignity you couldâve mustered for someone that had gotten roughly handled and drug into a bath full blood and anything else imaginable. He hoisted you up closer to him, your erratic blinks from the motion flicking stray droplets free from your eyelashes as you felt your legs stretch as wide as they could for your knees to sit onto either side of his hips and hover you over his bare lap. You didnât dare to sit down, your nerves pricking as a voice in the back of your mind screamed from the close proximity of you two, and instead only stared of what you could of his face while awaiting for him to speak.
âYou look like a drowned cat; all weak and pathetic⊠but I can tell you got something to say, so say it,â he goaded at you, teeth as white as ever reminding of the old folklores you had been told of beasts in the ocean water with just rows of sharp teeth that tore flesh apart so easily.
Frustration welled within you, every single insult of a name you wanted to call him sitting on your tongue sour for you to spit out. And yet, you didnât, wanting to leave him egging you on in want for you say it to him.
And it worked.
Sukuna brought you closer, his natural musk making you dizzy while you alternated from looking at his sharp canines (that you still longed to know what it felt like to have them bite into your lip, or graze across your collarbones), and the intracity of the tree bark-like protrusion he had on the left side of his face (that you wondered to know what it would feel like against your lips if you kissed him where his cheek was to be, and hoping that he could still feel it underneath that partial mask), and holding your breath to keep from fainting in his hold from being so close.
âCâmon, say it.â
Your face was hot, not only from being dunked into the bath water, but from his dangerous nearness and you hovering over his lap in nothing but your nagajuban and him being completely bare in the water below, something you tried desperately not to let show on your face was affecting you and something you tried not to let your libido wrap around too much for your excitement to take shelter in more as well. You had half a mind to just stare at his lips, thinking perhaps that would give him the idea of what you really wanted, but with Sukunaâs face coming closer and the hold he had on your becoming tighter, you couldnât help but to only stare at him.
You frowned, a nasty scowl deepening on your face as he continued talking.
âI know how bad you want to, youâre not as discreet as you like to believe you are. Whatâs the matter? Afraid of a little word? Or are you just waiting on my permission like always? Well, you have it, go on, tell me what I want to hear ââ
âYouâre an asshole.â
You werenât sure if thatâs what he wanted to hear, but it was the first words you thought of and the first words you got out of your mouth. A lie you would be telling if you said it didnât feel good to call him that, but a screaming in the back of your head telling you what you had was just going to cost you dearly. All feelings left you, dread imminent for just what he had said: your bratty mouth. Your tongue was venomous, saliva bringing itself forth from your gums as you thought of ways to backtrack what you had just told him but finding nothing and leaving you drowning toxin as it seep back down your throat to settle in the bubbling acid of your stomach and constrict around your heart to leave it panging in aftershocks for what you had done. A swallow was all you could muster, blinking as innocently as you could as you awaited his reaction.
And from his expression, you had actually managed to catch him off guard⊠but that wasnât always the best idea.
God, you had really done it.
Though waiting on him to bite back surprised you, as Sukunaâs lips twitched first, then his fingers tightened on you before he threw his head into his shoulder blades and laughed; full-on guffaws you had ever rarely seen the man do that shook his body and echoed throughout the room. Sukunaâs laugh bordered on one of most eerie and horrifying sounds you had ever heard, he laughed boisterous and without a care in the world, but usually whenever he laughed he did it for a purpose. A purpose in which was in his favor, like whatever was presented to him in a challenge and he knew already heâd come out on top in his victory, he would laugh.
That made you all more anxious for what was to come.
You only watched the swell of his Adamâs apple bob for a few seconds longer, his chest rising and falling with each breath as you were jostled in his hold before he stopped with a loud sigh and craned his head back forward to look at you. You tried to remain as impassive as you could, but it was hard with someone like him who could scrutinize you with a single glance, and it didnât help either whenever he leant back into your face with another of his vibrating hums and a newfound, pleased light in his eyes you hadnât ever had the chance to see before.
Sukuna smiled again, a third hand rising out of the water to trail a nail against your cheek as he tutted at you, âNow was that so hard? Want me to praise you for it now? Must feel good doing what youâre told and getting a reward for itâŠâ A lethargic blink on his behalf let you watch a droplet fall off his own long eyelashes, his next words slow and with a hidden meaning that made your skin pucker into chills went you thought too hard about it, âKeep talking and Iâll give you a treat like the good girl you are.â
Your eyebrows furrowed in, flustered by his voice and annoyed by the way he was talking to you altogether. Am I a dog now? Disregarding the way your stomach fluttered with the ghost of butterflies at the way he spoke, you realized Sukuna truly was only wanting to mess with you, like he always did. It really was just that; he wanted to provoke you enough to get you to snap back at him so he could laugh and tease you as he saw fit for his entertainment. He had gotten bored with your compliant behavior and wanted to strike a nerve in you somehow, dragging you into the bath whenever his little psychological warfare didnât work against you and winning the upper hand once he got you in.
The back of your teeth mashed together, that feeling of frustration balling back up into your chest when you thought about if thatâs what he really wanted then you could give it to him. You could test how far you could go with the insults if he was allowing it, your tongue sour to scrape all the bitterness off of to get what you really wanted to say to him out in the open. Consequences be damned, if Sukuna really wanted you to keep talking, you would.
You glared at him, getting even more annoyed whenever he only seemed to grin harder, and let the ties holding back your submissive behavior snap, âIs that what this all is? You just want me to degrade you? Call you an asshole, a prick, a bastard? I could go onâŠâ You felt confident in speaking to him, nevermind he could easily squeeze until your eyes and spine popped free of your body, but the more you spoke to Sukuna like that, the more you felt alive. Why had you not done it before knowing you could live in the end?
His lips puckered, a low whistle breaching your ears and he let another devious chuckle out as he rolled his neck, âSuch nasty words for a pretty mouth, maybe I made the right choice in not cutting your tongue outâŠâ His words did little to scare you, knowing if he had truly wanted to do it he would have the moment you caught an attitude with him. A finger pulled at your bottom lip, exposing the bottom layer of your teeth as he tapped his nail against your teeth, the clicking noise annoying you as much as he was in that moment. You took a bold move then, biting down on his finger in retaliation for putting in your mouth as he only seemed to tiredly sigh and press down on your tongue with a squint, âHave you not ever heard to not bite the hand that feeds you? Then again, youâre some lousy, village girl with no education⊠I shouldnât expect much from you.â
You let go of his finger, pissed with his little comments about you that were less than a praise (or his own twisted version of a praise), and squirmed in his hold. You dug your knee into his hip when you realized you couldnât move that much, then at a loss of anything to bite back him said what was on the tip of your mind again, âYouâre annoying me. This time, I will really leave.â
A bark of laughter made you pause and huff at him, ready for his next insult as he returned to pulling at your lip, âIâve lost count how many times youâve bitched about that, and frankly itâs gotten on my last nerveâŠâ His hand gripped your face again, squishing your cheeks and forcing you to look him in the eye, âYou and I both know you donât want to leave.â
You didnât have a doubt that he could feel the warmth of your cheeks onto his fingers, fisting your own fingers into your soaked robe underneath the waterâs surface as you replied, âAnd how would you know?â
There was a beat, the breeze outside going quiet once more as the crickets left and you were left alone with Sukuna, and you knew then you shouldâve bit your tongue on that question. The ambiance took a devastating turn so quickly, the banter between you two seeming almost lighthearted and flirtatious all but diminishing, and its place something⊠more, something hot, and you could feel that volcanic rumble the moment Sukunaâs pupils dilated the longer he looked at you. A bead of water trailed down youâre your temple and Sukuna regarded you for a long moment, his eyes remaining unblinking and unsettling you the longer he did so, before let go of your face and trailed along your jawline, lightly scratching at your skin as he went and whispering hotly into your face.
âBecause your body is saying otherwise.â
A shock went through you, a chill sliding up along your spine to tickle at your brain that froze you for the time being as you tried to fight off the look of guilt on your face. He couldnât have known⊠there was no possible way⊠The dread filled up your gut the same time you remembered your positions, desire napping in your belly like a fat snake steadily growing in warmth as Sukunaâs hand slid down to your neck, fingers making a show to tap your jugular before squeezing your throat once more. You fought back the whine as your lower regions throbbed once more, Sukunaâs nostrils flaring out again before he hummed and dropped his gaze lower to your chest.
And stared.
Just stared, until he grinned and circled his thumb along your throat, nail pressing in and â
âNice tits.â
You balked, mouth gaping open at his claim and looked down to see what couldâve possibly made him say something like that until you realized you were practically all but nude for him to see. Your nagajuban truly was just some flimsy material you wore underneath your kimonos, the thick fabric of those keeping your covered, but since Sukuna had⊠asked you to nicely to take it off and you were just in the thin fabric that was stuck to your body like a second skin drenched in water and had become see-through and your nipples were hard and poking through the cloth and he was just staring at them â !
A noise that seemed to be what he was waiting broke free of you finally, an embarrassing, girlish gasp bubbled up from your lungs whenever another hand (him having four hands was a curse) rose up and pinched at your nipple experimentally and rolled it in-between his fingers. Whenever you wiggled and arched your back as you felt the numerous twinges of pleasures shoot down towards your belly and begin to make your body uncomfortable with want and flooding with the need to be touched. Not a smart emotion to feel on your part, and seeing his insufferable face split more into amusement only cemented that fact that you knew what was coming.
âSo sensitive⊠Make that noise again,â he purred, tickling you and enjoying watching your face twist at his touch, âThe act is cute, but Iâve grown bored entertaining it⊠Why donât you really tell me why your body is feeling like this?â
âIâm not sensitive,â you argued back, trying your best to bat his hand away from your stimulated nipple, but to no avail as he resorted to just palming and squeezing your breast altogether. You huffed and let him have his way for the moment, gritting your teeth as you made up an excuse, âYou threw me in hot water unexpectedly, of course my skin is going to react like this.â
âIs that so?â Sukunaâs hands left their respective spots, instead both wrapping around to caress the back of your neck and the other two holding your waist steady underwater, face coming closer than before and you stopped yourself from staring pointedly at his lips, âYou lie, girl.â
He titled your head back, forcing your back to arch deeper and your thighs to brush against his sides as he pushed himself to tower over you, enjoying the way you bent under his demands and were pliant in his hold when he wished. To your horror, Sukuna sniffed you, the rumbling in his chest akin to a low growl as he squeezed at the nape of your neck, teeth too straight, too white, too sharp, on display as they gleamed with his victory and mesmerized you all the same. He laughed again once, titling his head at you like a curious animal before indulging you in your worst kept secret ever known.
âI know the smell of a bitch in heat, and you reek of it.â
If you werenât mortified before, you certainly were then. Sukuna could smell you â Sukuna could smell you. He already had seemingly heightened awareness and senses, but you didnât think he could smell⊠that. Your airways were restricted, mouth gaping back open with newfound heat seeping into your entire body; your muscles sagging and bones feeling nothing but like grounded mush as you could only stare at him with the truth out in the open. Though that very piece of information had morbid curiosity and stimulating excitement fueling a deeper part in you to know just where he was going with it. A treacherous, wanton part of you hoped he was leading to where you thought he was because⊠the idea Sukuna wanted you like you wanted him was⊠exhilarating. And if he had been waiting on you to just say it or somethingâŠ
You didnât get a chance to even process it too long, for Sukuna had started speaking again the moment you let the realization spread across your expression. âFoolish girl, you didnât think I knew? Every time youâre around me you carry the scent of it, and I thought itâd be fun to play your little coy game, but Iâve grown terribly sick of it,â his eyes widened and you wondered if the glow from his eyes was your imagination, or his intimidation tactic, âYou little brat, women throw themselves to my feet constantly, did you think pretending you werenât like them would make me favor you? Make me chase you in the end until I snapped and put you in my bed?â he paused for another moment to let his expression morph into something near frightening, eyes dilating further as he took in your form so pliant underneath him and his nails scratched harder at your neck, âIt doesnât work that way, so itâs best if you own up now and maybe Iâll consider a solution.â
Sukunaâs words didnât necessarily deter you, in fact him defending himself like that made it seem like you had quite the opposite effect on him as he was the one who had drug you into the bath because he had gotten sick of you playing coy. He could talk all he wanted, but the more he spoke the more he exposed himself to you, and that helped you in the end to fuel certainty that Sukuna did want you at least on a level of carnality. Â And if the way he was holding you and had been trying to coax you to admit that you wanted him in that same spoke for anything, you knew your efforts had not been vain.
Sukuna had kept you along with him for a reason, and you werenât sure what that reason was, but you knew most of it was his physical attraction to you. And you had stayed for your physical, mental, and emotional attraction to him, but you both would benefit from what had been brewing between you two like a long, overdue volcano ready to erupt.
You didnât flinch in his grasp, instead eyeing him gently before letting your eyelashes droop and pushing your shoulders back, mentally grinning in victory when one eye slid down to stare at your breasts again. âI ââ No, try something else. âMaybe I did, but it seems like itâs worked out in the end, hasnât it?â
Sukuna gauged you from a long moment before his face split out into wider grin, another short laugh he gave straight into your face as you tried to ignore the remnants of skin in his teeth and instead focus on that treacherous long tongue. âSo, what is it then? You want me to fuck your brains out until you canât remember your own name? Or you wanna be my little whore?â A finger returned to pull at your bottom lip, the tension in the room far greater than the heat as he had murmured those words in the same tone from before while you desperately tried to keep yourself poised to not unravel at the seams.
A sigh threatened to leave you when images flashed through your mind at his inquiries, both making you anxious for what was to come to leave your stomach queasy as well as your body responding greatly to the ideas. You didnât have to hide it anymore as you felt yourself beg from the pleasure in the form of your thighs growing hot and lower abdomen tightening up, bravely bringing a hand up to grab his finger and place on it your tongue, his nail scratching you there as you slid the appendage along to let your saliva coat his fingertip down to his second knuckle before closing your lips around it in a tease and popping it out of your mouth. He only watched with an amused expression, though the obsidian that was his pupils told you a much different story to how he was feeling underneath that mask.
It was nearly like you were in the caged clutches of a beast, ready to tear into your flesh be it by a pure physical sense or just alone sexually. Sukunaâs claws were controlled and ready, the muscles in him ready to snap from being so long coiled back like that of an agitated snake and he was ready to reach out into you to have his way that had been a long time coming. Moreover, it had been only a matter of time before you unraveled free from your fine silk hold and tumbled down below into the tattered seams of purity confined within the branches of Sukunaâs depraved world, and you lost yourself completely to whatever he was offering.
There was no turning back, and you let that be known as you looked him dead-set in the face.
âIf I said both?â
Sukuna didnât miss a beat. âThen you are a fool⊠But,â he relinquished all hold on you, returning back to recline on the bathâs edge with two pairs of arms splayed atop the rim and leaving you to hold yourself up by sitting on his spread thighs. You watched the shadows from the flickering fire inside the lanterns dance across his sharp jawline and daunting cheekbone, making him look all the more dangerous and unreal as he tilted his chin up and looked down at you figuratively, a challenge present in those rose-colored eyes that fueled the burning in your gut. âIâm never one to turn down such a desperate whore, though,â he paused to look at his nails, giving off the indication he was bored, âIâm also not some commoner. You seem much more inclined for this, so why donât go ahead and show me â or yet, show me and tell me how much you want me.â
He finished off by circling a long finger along the surface of the water, giving you a long look from the side of his eye, eyelashes sitting pretty and brushing along his skin as he blinked languidly at you awaiting to see your reaction. You didnât necessarily have one, swallowing as you understood that Sukuna was punishing you in his own way by not touching you and making you act on the progression of what was to come, and while you were nervous about the idea (especially when you were sitting on his thighs so close to him and he always had at least one eye on you) you couldnât help not to feel that candle light of confidence burn inside of you. He was obviously affected by your body, and if you showed more of your bodyâŠ
You could feel the magma inside stir; bubbling out of control and rising to its hottest temperature before it exploded free of its confined space the moment your decision was made. It was scalding as it poured into your skin, nearly feeling like all the walls holding your façade up were melting away your flesh and letting Sukuna see what rested beneath all the muscle and bone. He had burrowed himself deep even if he didnât know it, pulling your bones apart and snapping to make himself fit within the skeletal cage surrounding your heart as he only dug deeper and found the garden that laid your soul. And if your soul and mind had been bared to the dark trenches of Sukunaâs grasp, all that was left was show him all of you.
With a long, inward sigh, you lifted your hands up, undoing the sash of your nagajuban in finality. You had dropped your gaze down to watch your hands move instead of looking at him, knowing that his eyes would have pinned you in your place and you wouldnât have able to even follow through. However, Sukuna was never one to not give his input (even when it wasnât needed nor wanted), and from the moment you began to slide your robe down to bare your shoulders for him, he spoke.
âNot so modest now, are we? Never thought Iâd see the day youâre not all covered up in those shitty kimonosâŠâ
You returned your glare to him as you slid one arm out from a sleeve, face too hot and body beginning prickle from the weight of his stare. âYou got me these shitty kimonos.â
He had the gall to look smug. âI did, perhaps I should stop though. That way I can see you walk around like this with your tits out.â
You didnât have an answer to that, returning to undressing yourself with your lip caught between your teeth tightly as you pulled your other arm free and opened the remainder of your robe. You werenât sure what you were expecting (all four of his eyes widening at the sight of your nude body? Him suddenly dropping that demeanor and launching himself at you? A little bit of that purr he did with his voice whenever he was cooing at you in a mock praise, but that time he was telling you that you were a work of art? Hardly.), letting your nagajuban float behind you in the bath while feeling free and desirable being naked, but Sukuna just sitting back and staring at you with the most uninterested and sleepy look on his face was not it.
You swallowed and glanced around, eyes falling on the bright moon for a moment before returning back to him, pushing your shoulders back to accentuated your chest in hopes that he would do something. He did not however, instead only raising another eyebrow and looking like heâd rather be anywhere else but there with you. It made you annoyed; there he was one moment talking about how nice your tits were and touching them, then the next he was looking ready to curl up his lip at the sight of your bare bodyâŠ
He was the most difficult person in the world.
âWhatâre you doing?â he eventually asked, tapping a finger against the rim of the tub and sounding exhausted. Â
You squirmed on his thighs, slightly feeling more and more self-conscious the more he just sat there with that stupid on his face, and rose your arms to cover your breasts, âYou told me to show you and tell youâŠâ
Sukuna scratched his cheek, yawning before he inspected his nails once more and smacking his lips, âAll you did was show your body; already seen it. I was expecting a little more considering how pathetically desperate you look and smell.â You werenât sure if youâd ever get used to him only using one eye to look at you while the others maintained preoccupied, it was always going to be unnerving on how Sukuna could multitask on an inhumane level, but it was downright terrifying at times knowing that he could always see what you were doing regardless of where you may have been.
The hairs on the back of your neck rose. Your hackles raising with the desire to mouth off to him for his petty behavior. He had you naked sitting on his lap and he still wanted to toy with you, though you supposed he had a point since he had already fondled your tits and saw your body through the waterlogged fabric of your robe, and you had been expecting too much whenever you stripped yourself free. You supposed that you could show him more that you wanted him, but you werenât too keen on begging like you knew his sick mind wanted, ready to gloat and degrade you the moment you arched your back for him and moaned. And to be honest, you were getting anxious and more excited the longer you two danced around the inevitable.
Only a fleeting pass of a multicolored imagination could let you guess how he was feeling.
Without verbally answering him, you decided to push aside your uncertainties for the time being to pursue what you wanted. He had given you the go, but while you may have not trusted your voice to provide the words for it, you certainly could convey your desire through pressing your body to his and preforming such actions. Luckily he kept his gaze on his nails, allowing you to scoot forward on your knees to up his thighs, growing closer and closer until you hit the wall behind him and were as close to Sukuna as you had ever been. He regarded you for a quick moment â a fast glance down towards your body you wouldâve missed if you hadnât been so close to him â before pretending to play disinterested again. You inwardly huffed, leaning closer to sit your ass completely along his crotch with a smooth roll â
You paused. That â Your eyes widened. It canât beâŠ
Sukuna only grinned. It is.
Despite the temperature of the water, the body part was the hottest thing in the room, sitting up high and proud against your belly and stretching up past your naval and scalding at the tip of. The sheer length of it made you nervous (not something you hadnât thought given Sukunaâs towering height), but the feeling of it heavy against your flesh made you all the more apprehensive for what was to come. Genuinely, how were you going to get it to fit⊠and considering your âcircumstanceâ, you knew it wouldnât be an easy process.
A splash of water to your face brought your attention back from zoning out on a spot of Sukunaâs ear, looking back into the smug expression growing with glee when he noticed the worried look painted completely across your face. âWhatâs the matter? Surely youâre not backing out⊠after all that I would think you had more courage than to just run away with your tail tucked between your legs,â he tipped his chin down again, looking at you from a frightening angle, âYouâre not going to disappoint me, are you?â
His words brought you free of whatever had you caged back, your lust blooming blue within the lava guiding you through to pursue what you wanted instead of letting your worries take over. You grew bold and furrowed your eyebrows, placing your hands atop his shoulder with your nails digging in and pressing yourself closer to his face, âNo, I just need⊠adjustment.â You hoped he understood that. And you hoped he wasnât going to just shove his cock in you without any more touching (no matter how tempting that sounded to you).
You expected a condescending laugh, his body shaking from how hard he did, or perhaps a scoff, but you didnât expect the eye roll or the long sigh expanding his chest as the two arms underwater clutched at your hips, the hold possessively strong and his nails stinging into your flesh whilst slightly lifting you up from him without so much of an effort. âI guess we have to do this the old-fashioned way⊠But let it be known Iâm only doing this so I can fit, I donât need nor want you squirming and crying about how it hurts or doesnât fit. Shit gets on my nervesâŠâ he mumbled out that last bit as he maneuvered you to his liking, scooting you closer and sitting you down as his cock slid up between your ass and your stomach slid along the hard muscles of his own. His skin was still burning you, your skin puckered from his proximity and body humming with arousal.
Whenever Sukuna tapped a finger onto your hips in what you thought was an impatient gesture, you spoke, âWhat do you ââ
You started whenever a fast sequence of pleasure darted down into your legs, your ankles rolling as it spread up back to your brain before manifesting completely atop your sensitive clit. A noise that was a cross between a gasp and squeal escaped you the moment you felt the flexible appendage alike to a tongue lap along between the parts of your pussy, wriggling along with the fat of it before the tip swirled your clit in agonizing circles. Your thighs shook as they fought to close, yet Sukunaâs thicker thighs kept them securely open atop his lap to keep whatever he was doing to you happening to his liking. You didnât have a chance to think clearly or even ask what it was he was doing to you (or what body part that was), and all thought completely left you the moment that slick appendage parted your cunt apart with the tip and twisted its way into your absolutely drenched hole, rendering you the mess he knew you would become in doing so.
Whenever you gasped and threw your head back, Sukuna hummed with pure amusement.
âMmm, you taste as good as you smell. And youâre absolutely soaked, you little slut,â he squeezed your hips and coaxed you to move them forward, âOh? Donât be so shy now, this is what you asked for so you might as well take what you can.â Sukuna continued to only sit back and watch you, propping his cheek into a close fist as took in every single expression that crossed across your face with only a look of mild amusement.
It was the mouth on his stomach you learned, the part seeming to have a mind of its own you thought on occasions if the numerous times you had spied it smiling at you said anything. The fact he could taste whatever was placed upon its tastebuds told you a lot, and if it wasnât the fact that his tongue was currently fucking you and he could taste how your insides were it wouldâve grossed you out. Sukuna chuckled as he watched your face twist into pleasure, that inhumanly long tongue lashing out across your inside in rough strokes as it probed you until you cried out loud enough to wonder if any of the other servants in palace could hear you.
The tongue mapped out your pussy in every which way it could to gather as much of your slick as he could to lather it upon his tastebuds. Your thighs began harshly trembling then, as you had locked them around his own while he slid his hands back onto your waist to keep seated nicely onto his abdomen. Your eyes rolled, your hips desperately trying to rock harder against him for his tongue to push deeper into your cunt and for your clit to hit in just the right spot along his flexed abdominal muscle. Your hands on his shoulders had moved into fists to anchor yourself as you began to push and pull as much as you could for how your mind was beginning to spin into dizziness and your legs were beginning grow weaker as the seconds passed both of you.
Sukuna only watched you with an impassive expression, looking like he could have been anywhere but there in that bath with you as you rode on his tongue. Your body was quivering, pulse accelerating as you felt yourself begin to slip down onto the slope to careen yourself down into a climax, and the noises passing through your lips by then were full-blown moans and you could take a very little note to the way Sukunaâs fingers were beginning to harshly dig into your flesh. It was then you knew it wasnât enough, you needed Sukuna do completely dominate you; you needed Sukunaâs hands all over you and to touch every single part of your body to taint it with his own version of Hell. You were the lamb to his slaughter, you were the virgin offering themself up, and you needed to reject the Gods and humanity for your desire for the Devil in front of you.
You lifted yourself up the same time you uncurled a fist, coming down on his tongue as it swiped along the innermost part of you and tickled your spine. You clenched around his tongue and got delight in a slight pinch coming to his brow, bravely twirling a strand of pretty pink hair around your index finger as you moaned for him again. âSukuna.â
His mouth twitched as he narrowed his eyes at you, all the while keeping your expression imploring in hopes he got the message. You were sure he did if the flicker of amusement glinted in his eyes for a brief second told you anything, but he wasnât so easy to win over. Sukuna hummed and rose the one hand he wasnât using to your face, dragging a nail along your jawline before tracing your lips, âIf you want something, address me properly.â He spoke so calmly it infuriated you, his ability to remain unphased by your actions doing nothing for your confidence and making you regret even wanting to ask for it in the first place.
A shaky breath left you whenever you felt your pussy tremble around that tongue, each precise lick it gave to the inside of your cunt tickling and making you grasp for the long-awaited release you knew you were on the cusp for, the inside of your lower abdomen beginning to feel as if it was in a blazing fire from each fervent motion of his mouth and each rolling of your hips did to let his muscle grind along your tingling clit. The amount of loud moans he was pulling out of you was downright sinful, your grinding picking up as you tugged his hair hard enough to push his head back a fraction and angle your hips up to slide right along his body on the perfect spot atop your clit. A rumble in his chest made you clench hard around his tongue while your eyes fluttered shut when the vibration of it expanded out to reach the inside of you, a myriad of nerves tingling up towards your clit as your fingers tugged harsher onto his hair the moment you realized he wasnât pushing you off.
âPlease,â you whined, completely forgoing his order for you to address him as you should, âtouch me.â
âPlease, what?â he hissed while squeezing your cheeks, a fine edge to his voice that excited you more than anything. He was getting impatient.
Anxiety twisted its way onto your face, the word like a scorching coal on the tip of your tongue when you remembered what he liked to be called, and you shifted on his lap once more before parting your lips for the candied beg to finally leave your lips and grace his ears and ego.
âPlease⊠Master.â
The smile that split his face into two should have frightened you, the way his eyes seemed to glow and widened should have made you more anxious, and the way he laughed should have made you think twice about what you getting into. However, none of that happened, not when Sukuna rewarded you for your submissive behavior and had you wriggling on his tongue once more when he moved both hands above the water to splay his fingers along your chest.
âSuch a good girl, how adorable you sound like that,â he cooed, slowly and heavily dragging his searing palms down to your breasts as you arched further for him, âI suppose you earned it for obeying meâŠâ
It was but a brief moment as the tongue inside of you stilled, your eyes reopening to see what caused him to stop until you felt the palms of his hands shift, the flesh atop them seemingly tearing itself open before warm breath misted across your aching nipples and teeth bit into them and tugged. You squealed and bucked atop his lap, another two tongues sweeping across your tits and his fingers creasing into your flesh he toyed with the flesh and rolled them around in his hands, bouncing with them with a laugh when he realized how much it did to you. Your anxiety dissipated the moment your body was flooded with more pleasure; that heat inside stoking itself in circles around your brain, heart and stomach as it grew and grew the more Sukuna touched you.
Your brain was pure liquid at that moment, only thinking of how fucking good it felt to have him tongue-deep into your pussy and his hands fondling your tits. You rolled your shoulders back and began scratching at his nape as you nearly started to create waves in the pool with how harsh you were riding atop him when the weight in your lower abdomen grew larger and harder, and your thighs were beginning to shake once as pressure pressed harder onto your sensitive clit.
Your muscles felt practically useless and the noises you were producing growing louder as his enthusiasm grew tenfold when his hold on your waist doubled down to almost bruising and you got to watch his nostrils flare at your behavior. You already knew Sukuna had been aroused just as much as you were from the thoughts of lust, and the thought sent a hard curl downwards to where your anticipated release grew in crescendo of wave tides.
You were close.
And Sukuna knew that. With a cackle he abruptly withdrew his tongue from inside of you, leaving you whining at the loss before he pulled you back a fraction and let it return to sitting atop your clit. One hand let go of your waist, a finger placed under your chin as he tipped your face to look back into his with half-lidded eyes, âYouâre having so much fun youâre forgetting me. Though youâre dripping on me as we speak, I wonder just how much your cunt can takeâŠâ
You blinked as he removed his finger, holding up his hand in front of your face with the dorsal side facing you as you watched in horror and amazement as Sukunaâs nails shrunk. Gone were the talons you could still feel present on your waist and breast, instead on that hand was short, blunt nails, still dark in color as he flexed them and curled all but his index and middle finger down and pressed them against your sternum. Sukuna began a slow descent down your body, a cackle of electricity leaving his fingertips as he went that you could only assume was his energy, sliding down sensually past your naval, down in the curls atop your pussy, before they flicked into your folds. You braced yourself in that moment, Sukunaâs thick fingers parting your cunt open as he began to press his index in first.
Holding your breath you winced at the sting, the tongue from his abdomen already lubed with salvia and not as thick, as he watched your face carefully. When he slid in his finger completely in and took notice of the way you jerked and gasped at the new intrusion, you got the rare instance to see a look of surprise cross his face before it was completely taken over by the widest grin and a horrifying new purpose in his eyes.
Guess the cat was out of the bag.
âVirgin,â he hissed, a cackle born free from his twisted mind breathing out into your face as he pushed another finger inside of you and curled them hard. âOh, you⊠Youâre a delight.â
You whined at the sting of the stretch and his words, rolling your hips harder and more frequently against the tongue his abdomen had produced so that it lapped at your clit faster and turned the uncomfortable sting back into that saccharine pleasure from before. Sukuna wasnât too keen to let it go however, slamming his fingers harder up into you and stroking them deliberately along your insides until they molded to him as all the while the mouths he had conjured up on his hands sucked and bit at your tits greedily the more your movements became desperate for a release. To which you knew then wouldnât be long given the amount of stimulation you were receiving from the most sensitive regions of your body.
Sukuna seemingly found your virginity arousing to him, the hand that had been squeezing your hip darting up to grab your throat in a fast and hard squeeze, and one of your hands rising to curl fingers around his wrist as your airway was suddenly restricted for the time being. The mouths on your nipples bit down harder and rolled your skin between the teeth, and the extra tongue on his abdomen jabbing at your throbbing clit grew faster as you fought to gasp between his squeezing fingers and a wave of lightheadedness. It was not unwelcome however, arching your back as your eyes rolled whenever his fingers tickled the inside of you in lethargic bouts, and you could feel the ball in your stomach began to unravel in the appearance of your nirvana.
âGiving your virginity to me? You really shouldnât have,â he snarled again, choking you harder after briefly letting up to hear you take a weak breath, âTake heed, brat, once you let me in, thereâs no getting me out.â He laughed again whenever he watched your expression twist up, the look similar perhaps to those he had seen before underneath him, and picked up the speed of all his motions with a too wide grin, âSeems your pussy canât take too much, are you really about to cum so soon?â
You were, you really were, but you were trying your best to fight it off so that he didnât win so soon. However, staying quiet was not in your favor, a hiss leaving the man underneath you when you seemingly ignored him in favor of rocking your hips against his tongue and pushing his fingers deeper into your pussy. That simply wouldnât do for him.
One mouth let go of a breast, allowing Sukuna to slap your tit once â twice before pinching your nipple even harder than he had before and slowing his fingers down at your behavior. âI asked you a question, youâd do well to answer me before I leave you to your own hands.â
You arched dangerously in his lap and scratched down his chest, all the sensations leaving your mind completely discombobulated as you babbled out whatever came to mind first, âI can take it â please.â
Sukuna tutted at you, leaning forward to press his hot cheek to yours, âI donât know if you can⊠My fingers feel a lot different than your own, huh?â His finger spread themselves apart inside of you, and you thanked anything and everything that you couldnât hear the obscene squishing you knew it was making in the water below you. âYou thought I didnât know? Walking up to me with your fingers smelling like your pussy, here I thought you were just being a little whore and teasing me⊠You just couldnât help yourself.â His voice was hot against your skin, his tongue falling out of his mouth to lick a trail from your jawline up to your ear where he bit at it before whispering almost sugary-like in your ear, âTell me, how many times have you fucked your own fingers to the thought of me?â
His words made you clamp around his fingers, all the memories of the nights you spent with your fingers inside of yourself those nights you spied Sukuna with another and could hear them all the while you imagined it was you he had pressed down into his bed completely ruining. Him knowing that you had touched yourself somehow still embarrassed you despite what you two were doing, but it didnât deter you to not answering when you knew he could take away his own if you didnât give him what he wanted.
âSo much ââ you panted, scrambling to hold onto his shoulders again whenever he rewarded you with a smooth lick along your clit and a curl against the wall of your plush cunt, âI always touch myself to the thought of you, Master.â Perhaps that was laying it on a little too thick, but you couldnât find the means to care whenever it appeased him.
A low, âHmmâ tickled you, Sukuna moving his face directly back into yours to let his nose and lips skim along your own, âOh? Iâm flattered...â he blinked languidly at you, a hint of a smirk on his lips as he watched you come undone atop him, âHow many times did you cum?â
Your head was spinning, body feeling hot and the nerves inside of you tingling.
You clawed at his shoulders and shook your head when you felt the quivering of your legs increase, âI⊠Iâm so close, please â" you broke yourself off with another whimper as the only answer he gave to that was to pull you impossibly closer, the mouths on his hands biting at you hard enough to bleed before licking up any stray dollops in a squeeze and let his tongue rub away at your swollen clit in fast tight circles.
ââPleaseâ,â he mimicked your moan, snickering at your expression and releasing your throat to return to squeezing your waist, âHow many times have you cum to the thought of me?â
You moaned his name again in a wail, your eyebrows furrowing with sweat beginning to line your brow as the combined factor of his fingers stretching and curling in side of you, his tongue rubbing along your clit and your grinding was nearly too much for you to bear. That one particular feeling was back in your lower abdomen; the weighted sense far different from the usual building orgasms you got. It was a pressure in your cunt that felt as if you couldnât ignore and you needed to rid of it to get the tension out of you. Another moan passed your lips as you felt your mind and body begin to spiral into euphoria; you knew exactly what it was.
âEach time⊠All of them â â you croaked off from trying to warn him into another high-pitched whimper whenever he dug his sharp nails into your side and pushed his fingers farther and faster into your pussy. God, he knew. He fucking knew it was coming and was trying his best to ease it out of you.
The thought had you unraveling at a devastating pace, your eyes rolling back into your head as Sukunaâs tongue slithered out of his mouth and his hot breath sifted across your face before he was licking the sweat off of you. He made his way down into your neck then, his smile pressed into your flesh there before he bit you. You cried out and it should have hurt you, but the pain and fear was far gone to feel with how Sukuna was treating your body. Wonderful near orgasmic heat born of pleasure radiated out of the bite in a humming electricity, your eyes staring into the ceiling almost sightless as everything spun out of control and became too hot for you to handle. The ball in your lower abdomen was stretching to its limit, your pussy clenching and unclenching as you felt it all began to descent into ecstasy the more he pleasured your body.
You whimpered whenever he bit particularly deeper, and Sukuna huffed into your neck, his lips beginning to move against your skin as he sucked at you and pushed his fingers as deep as they would go into your cunt. You arched harder against him in pure ravishment, your forms perhaps looking like an ink painting placed along on sacred scroll telling the tale of the Devil entrancing himself in a human woman, and you found his hair again tugging, his snarling against you and the added pleasure from all his body parts doubling down letting you know he quite liked it.
You were spiraling, his tongue dipping into your flesh to wiggle around the same his fingers pressed up against your cervix â
Itâs right there, right there, right there, ther â Fuck!
âSukuna â â
Your hips rolled faster, harder.
He growled, loud.
Your frontal lobe completely morphed and only focused on him; just Sukuna, Sukuna, Sukuna as your back arched in a near gruesome backbend and your fingers knotted into his hair more. Another loud groan vibrated your entire being and your thighs blazed and tingled as they began to roughly shake with another obscene moan falling out your mouth. The pressure in you was too large to ignore then, spine tightening as you sought relief for it and when Sukunaâs tongue returned to rubbing harsh circles into your clit and his fingers pushed and curled, pushed curled, push and curled, push and curled â and your eyes rolled back â and just fuck it was right there, you were almost there â !
Everything abruptly stopped the moment Sukuna wrenched his mouth away from your neck, drawing a near mournful cry from you as all pleasure left your body when he pulled free his fingers and tongue away from your pussy as well. He sat back against the wall of the Onsen with a grunt, the orange lighting making your blood smeared along his face look daunting as he brought up the fingers that had been inside of you and licked them clean along with your leftover blood. You remained seated on his lap, body unsatisfied and heartbeat thunderous in your head befuddled from his behavior (and rather ticked off he conned you out of an orgasm), watching him be annoying as he sucked his free fingers of your juices with the most obscene noises you had ever heard come out of the man. He popped his fingers out with a grin, a dazed look in eyes as one rolled over to look at you.
âSweet,â Sukuna sighed, smacking his lips obnoxiously and raising his arms up in a stretch, âClose your mouth, you look stupid gaping like that⊠Honestly, what were you expecting? You didnât tell me you wanted to cum, so how was I supposed to know? I only pulled away because I didnât want your puny ass fainting on me.â
You hated him (you didnât), and you wriggled on his lap as the evidence of your uncared for arousal became evident despite the bath water. Sukuna regarded you with another eyebrow raise, watching you curiously as you lifted yourself up on shaky knees and meaningfully dug your nails into his shoulders as you readjusted yourself until his cock was placed back in front of you intimidatingly standing against your abdomen. Glancing at it through the water was enough to make you anxious again, spying the same black ink circled around the base of it and the reddened tip leaking from substance, and you had to swallow down the nervousness making itself known in your stomach when you took in just how far up it sized against you, and how thick it was enough to completely stretch you apart and mold your insides to accommodate you. And you how much you knew it would completely ruin you.
It shouldnât have aroused you as much as it did.
âNeed something?â Sukunaâs voice purred out way too close to your face, your eyes fervently moving back up to his as you were caught blatantly gazing down at his cock. He looked smug, cheek propped up by his fist again as he had relaxed back, yet the painted emotion present his eyes nearly caused you to flinch back. Normally Sukuna looked as bored as he could be or humored about something he found funny, but being so close to him let you see the maelstrom of emotions that remained hidden within them. The lust was nearly able to be touched, to reach your hand into his world and take hold of the vines that would leave you littered with lashes in your skin but would do you good in the end to get through the precarious path.
It was enough to remind you of the throbbing in your neck and in your ankle from his rough treatment, enough to remind you of the light scratches on your waist, enough to remind you of the soreness present in your cunt, and enough to remind you of white-hot pangs of desire bubbling up behind your naval unsated. And it was enough to guide you through what you sought after for so long.
A sharp pinch and twist to your nipple brought your attention back to him, the eyes the same color as the strawberries you had seen growing in the mountains boring so intently into your own you had no choice to even try and pull away. He nearly acted like a bratty, pouting boy prodding and tugging at you to get your attention, but you kept that particular piece of information to yourself since you also did the same to get his attention.
Sukuna rose an eyebrow, âWell? Are you just going to stare at me or are you gonna tell me?â
His thighs flexing beneath you and his cock twitching against your stomach sent your mind into a frenzy, the vast urge to stop beating around the bush like you two had been doing winning out in the end as your impatience (and Sukunaâs, you were sure) had grown to its head. The lava inside was spilling out of the volcano, pouring out in a slow roll as the earth beneath it fell apart in the guise of your control and the world was doused in a glowing, fiery inferno that could only be quelled with the union of Sukunaâs own snake-bitten lust.
You fixed your expression into something of innocence, your face warm for what you were going to say and your resolve all but crumbled into diamond-filled dust whenever Sukuna looked upon you. âI prefer to just show you.â
A long finger tapped against his temple, his eyelashes heavy as he slowly blinked and murmured so velvety in made your thighs clench, âThen by all means, show me. Getting a little dry over here.â
(You couldâve done without the side comments.)
Boldly, you pushed yourself up again, letting a hand silkily glide down his chest to trace the tattoos until you got to his abdomen and made a point to individual touch each grooved muscle there. Sukuna regarded you with interest, and grinned whenever you skimmed fingers against the mouth atop his stomach and let the tongue hidden beneath lick at your fingers. You only kept them there for a brief moment, sliding down past the pubic hair before you got to the heat of his cock. Sukuna remained looking disinterested however, but your curiosity got the better on you as you curled your fingers around the sacred skin and gave it an experimental squeeze to test a reaction.
It was in your favor as you duly noted his chest hitch, but otherwise his expression stayed the same.
âDonât bite off more than you can chew, brat,â he warned, a hiss underlined in his voice letting you know his composure mightâve been for a show.
You bit your tongue to keep a nasty rebuttal from flying out of your mouth, instead leveling him with a half-hearted glare as you traced your finger around one of the tattoos along his base, âI can take it,â you argued back, watching his mouth fall into a thin line as his chin down and he glared at you from under his brow. His expression worried you for a moment, ready to just tell him he could do whatever he wanted as the magnitude of his glare reminded you of the day a pack of sorcerers made the grave mistake in trying to ambush him and it ended in a massacre, but his voice so hauntingly calm and quiet soothing your ears made you buck up nearly, the frequency of so like icy breath blowing across your neck and tickling you.
âThen take it. Go ahead, sit on my cock. I donât want to see a single inch of me out you either, let me finally see what you look like with your pussy split apart by my cock.â
Sukuna didnât offer you anymore words after that (and you tried desperately not to think on what he meant by âfinallyâ), and while you were mentally scrambling over the way the words twisted your stomach and warmed your ears when you took in his relaxed position. From the way he was still just sitting there looking like a twisted, horrific version of a God with his cheek propped up by his fist and a lazy expression on his face like a panther, you realized he wasnât going to do anything to help you further, sacrificing you to the clutches of desire to fend for yourself. You knew Sukuna was a man who was dominant through and through, his mere existence called for the submissive behavior of those below him, but you didnât think heâd be one to let you do as you pleased when it came to sex.
Or, he was toying with you again, wanting until you said what he wanted to hear before he would finally lift a finger again and give you what you both wanted. Sukuna was capricious, his mood swings terrifying, so the little haughty, bratty act he was playing with you was him playing your own game as you did with him. You shouldâve expected it really, playing a game with him was dangerous and anyone rarely came out the winner from his conniving ways, and with a sigh you accepted your destiny for carnality, biting your lip as you decided you nor him wanted to wait any longer while you pushed yourself up farther to let swollen tip of him bump across your clit.
Of course, you were still horribly anxious, never having your body breached in that way and with Sukunaâs large structure (were all dicks that big? Surely not, Sukuna was just big in general) you knew youâd be in for a difficult time. He only watched you as you moved him to your opening, your hands guiding him and you as you went and bracing yourself for inevitable. With a heavy inhale you began to push yourself down onto his cock, holding back a noise of complaint whenever his thick, blunt tip already began to stretch you far more than his fingers had done and you could already feel the sting present. While you had prep from him and the water from the bath had wet his cock some, it seemed still not enough as it was rough sinking down onto him in a torturous pace from the sheer length and width of him.
The pressure was painful you would admit, your insides nearly feeling like they were being intruded in the worst way possible as you slid down onto him centimeters at a time. It was a few moments of grimacing and holding back a whine while your other hand scratched at his shoulder before you got his bulbous tip in, a sigh leaving you as perhaps that way have been the worst part due to the shape of his cock but was quickly replaced with a choked squeal whenever Sukuna suddenly lifted his hips up and forced another inch of himself inside of your pussy.
âOops,â he snickered, âHad to stretch a bit.â And without so much of another explanation reached a hand forward to pinch and play with your swollen nipple again between two fingers.
You gritted your teeth, a hiss leaving through the cracks of them as you let go of his cock and instead kept both hands atop his shoulders as continued your pursuit down. Your cunt was throbbing by then through the sting of pain, the stretch of his cock nearly making your eyes roll back as the feeling became a blurred line between just pure pain and unbridled ecstasy. Nevertheless, you were no quitter, squinting through your hazy vision to watch him amuse himself with flicking and twisting your nipple around as you continued on down to fully sit his hulking cock inside of you.
Your pussy ached and clenched as you pulled him into you, inch by inch you sinking down onto him, biting your cheek and practically holding your breath the entire time as it was a few more minutes before the entire brute of him was pushed inside, a choked gasp falling from your lips as you felt your walls stretch, constrict and throb once you got him where you wanted him. An electric shock spread throughout you whenever his cock seemingly pushed your innards apart to accommodate him, a dizzying sense fogging your mind at the completely full feeling you got just from sitting on his cock. He felt⊠amazing, nearly feeling like he breaching up past into your guts as the idea made you sway slightly and dreamily sigh when you began to feel your clit and cunt pulse at the mere entrance of him.
You shuddered whenever Sukuna made a rumbling noise underneath you the same time you flinched when you sat your ass onto his thighs, another choked sigh leaving you as felt you the muscles of your pussy contract and flutter around the new welcomed intrusion. You wiggled a bit before sighing in content and from how fucking good it felt having his hot arousal inside of you once and for all and how full you felt with him inside of you, before you arched your back again and sighed in complete bliss whenever the discomfort seemed to finally wane a fraction.
Sukuna switched from pinching your nipple to squeezing it, another mouth hand forming as it licked along your flesh in appease your efforts and reward you for taking all of his cock. He hummed in approval, âLook at that, never one to not back down, are you? You look good stuffed by my cock, perhaps the best youâve ever looked.â
Overran by the fog clouding your mind and his words sending you into a state of abandonment, you rolled your hips once in a pivot, pulling him inches out of you before rolling back down until he bottomed out in you with a soft moan escaping your lips. You repeated the action when you realized how good it felt, discomfort leaving you and your throat filling up with a multitude of sounds as your brain only focused on the pleasurable sensations you were receiving from your cunt. Becoming easier to slide due to the amount of slick you were producing to coat him and your insides, you tuned in the way you felt each engorged vein rub across your walls, your skin puckering in chills as you continued rock up and down, up and down, up and down until you felt your body nearly melting from the attention.
Underneath you, Sukuna whistled, letting the mouth on his hand suck at your nipple harder as another arm rose for him to splay his entire hand across your stomach, pressing down with intent to feel his own cock inside of you and grinning whenever you whined and constricted up around him from the pressure. âYouâre tight. Feels good, doesnât it?â he cooed at you, pulling at your nipple and lidding his eyes, âTell me how good it feels.â
His voice made you want to curl in on yourself, hide away from him as the tone and assumption behind it made you embarrassed. However, there was no hiding from Sukuna then, slowly sliding about atop of him easy enough to not let the water splash too far out of the tub. âIt feels so good,â you awkwardly started, gaining momentum as you found your voice better, âMore than I could dream of.â
ââDreamâ? How adorable.â The airy chuckle he gave reverberated throughout the room, the two hands below the water grasping your hips again as he flexed his fingers and secured you in a firm grip, another strange expression on his face as he leant back far enough to watch you rock on him, âGo ahead then, fulfill your little fantasy, I wonât bite.â
(âUnless you want me to.â)
He didnât have to tell you twice.
With your clit and cunt throbbing and feeling him pushing against your walls so hot and insistently, you began to move your hips rhythmically against his, the stretch exquisite and your brain slowly shutting down any other thought that wasnât Sukuna. You could already feel your body beginning to hum in delight from each way his cock slid along inside of your pussy, speeding up a bit as you watched his expression remain impassive, teasingly letting the mouth on his hand suck greedily as your nipple as he only watched you ride him. You could feel him purr practically whenever little, meek whimpers began flowing out of you, your rocking speeding up a fraction when it got easier with time.
Though with time, you realized the grinding wasnât enough.
You lifted yourself up off of him, lethargically pulling him out of you and the slow slide of his girth making you grip him harder while biting your lip to keep from whining out. Once he was back out and his tip kissed your folds, his nails dug into your body for a brief moment (a break in his composure, you could argue) before you buried him back inside of you at the same pace, yet that time the stretch was tighter as you clenched up to get a better feel of his heat. The action of you pushing him back up into the hilt of you let a breathless moan fall out of you and hum from him, you tossing your head back once more with your eyes fluttering while the mouth on his hand kissed along your breasts.
You resorted to bouncing on his cock then, the feeling much better than that slow wind-up you had been doing as the water below you two began to slosh with your movements. Albeit the bouncing was better, you still couldnât find that tangible spark from before, leaning forward as you didnât trust your stability anymore as you threw your arms around his neck and pressed your tits into his chest. You breathed in Sukunaâs scent as you felt a hand slide to your lower back to follow the dip it made whenever your hips rolled, hoping that perhaps more contact with him would help you reach that level of euphoria you had been feeling from before, but alas you still couldnât find the means of it. And with Sukuna only letting you use him and not making movements below to help, it wasnât what you wanted.
It wasnât enough. Your movements werenât enough to get yourself off and they werenât enough to get Sukuna off either. The slow way you were riding him told the tale of your inexperience, and Sukuna knew you wouldnât be able to take the gentle coaxing the way his cock slid along inside of your pussy almost dreamily, softly and filling you warmth, all of that doing nothing for you. You needed the burn you felt from before whenever he had bit into your neck, when his claws had scratched at your hip, when his hand had curled around your neck to choke you. You needed a pinch of that pain that bloomed into a rose of pleasure, born from decrepit soil inhibiting curses and thorns that your mother had warned you about ever touching.
You needed him. You needed him in way you knew you could only have him.
You had to tell him.
Pulling away from his neck you leant back, duly noting Sukunaâs position and expression had not changed, still the same smug look from before whenever you started to bounce on his cock with his fist propping his cheek up. Your clit was throbbing and your orgasm was even further away, making a point to sigh and flutter your eyelashes in hopes he bit the bait better, âI need you.â
âMe? Youâre the one bouncing on my cock as you please, what more could you possibly want?â Despite his knack to remain nonchalant to your beg, you could see it in the way his eyes lightened up; the slight shift in his expression morphing into something downright unnerving for a brief moment. You had seen that expression once before, whenever he had killed someone right in front of you and got the glee out of watching them ultimately surrender to him before they died. However, Sukuna made no indications he was ready to tear into your body (not in the hungry sense at least), so it only fueled you further as confidence seeped into your veins like hot honey. His eyebrows furrowed down harder at the expression on your face, yet his grin only grew, teeth sharper than you wouldâve ever dared to try and fight back towards, and a malevolent intent brightening his eyes, âMore. Tell me more.â
The heat from his cock was searing inside of you, sitting snugly within your cunt like it was made to fit there and heavy each time you moved only an inch, and it was hard to ignore the way he was twitching and seemingly growing hotter by the minute the more you kept him inside of you. You squeezed around him once more to test how far you push at it, watching as he only slowly blinked at you in a challenge and letting be known that toying with him like that would only get you so far. It was warning really, but you werenât keen on caring as you pushed yourself forward into his face, lips skimming his as he had done you earlier before let a hand trail up to touch the protruding part of his face in gentle caress, moving to trace his lips whenever he was only sat still below you. You grew bolder, giving in and pressing a short kiss to his bottom lip and sighing in his face dreamily.
He visibly was affected by that; a slight eye widen and twitch from his cock again.
âI want you to fuck me. Make me yours, Sukuna. I can take it and you have me, so please ââ
Sukuna abruptly stiffened with a growl, the hold on your hips turning to bruising and stinging as his nails began to dig through your flesh and draw blood. You watched all of his eyes flare open, his pupils shrinking until nothing remained but a small, dark spot and his iris burning like an inferno as they only seemed to glow brighter as you back off of his face, thinking perhaps you may have went too far in pushing your luck with Sukuna. Your heart may have matched the storming in his eyes as he seemed to look past you for a moment again, like he wasnât seeing you altogether as an assortment of emotions flashed over his face making you all the more anxious.
His mouth had curled up in a sneer, his teeth sharped than ever than you knew could tear you to pieces, before you watched a flicker of astonishment and vehemence fill his expression, but they were quickly diminished just as fast as they had come and replaced completely with something else. Sukunaâs pupils sharply enlarged again, the crimson nearly engulfed as cruel determination erupted across his entire body, his eyes holding nothing but a horrifying intent and pure hunger. His cock inside of you throbbed once, your mouth opening to apologize for perhaps overstepping your boundaries when Sukunaâs hand that been resting of his cheek shot towards you, his fingers flexed and spread apart as he caught ahold of your throat once more in a hard squeeze.
His arms on your hips shot up around your back and pinned you down to the front of him, your tits smashing ruthlessly against his own broad chest shooting a thrilling jolt tickling your spine as you inhaled sharply from the close contact. However, whatever you thought to say or even tried to do dissipated into mere mush the moment Sukuna pressed against your throat harder and used the momentum to bring you in for a devouring kiss.
Sukuna was kissing you. If you werenât in the predicament you were in, you wouldâve let out a girlish squeal in embarrassment.
Though a squeal did leave you from how rough the kiss seemed be, Sukuna wasting no time to bite fervently at your lips to give him access to the expanse of your mouth, that sinful tongue of his mapping out what it could of your own and completely dominating you in that aspect. You let him, his teeth clashing hard against your own and the coppery taste of your blood pooling in your mouth before he swiped all that up with that serpentine tongue, Sukuna leaving no room for you to even try to take a breath or make a move against him. It should have disgusted you, having such a monster kissing you like he was, but you couldnât find the means to even find a seldom thought to think in clarity whenever Sukuna was completely consuming you.
You were expecting it though â Sukunaâs breakthrough since he had the upper hand â yet it still managed to surprise you all the less when you were preoccupied thinking about his kiss. He stirred beneath you, his thighs flexing and his hips rocking up once in an experiment, before he roughly drove up into you further enough to make you squawk into his mouth that he greedily swallowed whole driving your tongue down still with his own. Your body shook, that spark of rough treatment making your cunt pulse in anticipation as he repeated the action once more with more vigor, picking up a devastating pace that had you bouncing in his hold and the water surrounding you both beginning to splash out from his intensity as he held you down to his content and fucked up into you as he pleased.
Sukuna broke away from you mouth with a hiss and let up on the choking for the time being, swiping the blood free coating his mouth and a wide grin on his face when you took in your expression before shoving a particular hard thrust in your pussy that slammed against your innermost regions and reveling in the way you openly moaned and fell forward to hook your chin over his shoulder. You couldnât focus on the moon behind you both, your body jostling harshly in his hold blurring your vision as Sukuna fucked you like he wanted nothing more than to completely drill his cock so far deep into you it carved a hole for him and his cock alone. And you were content to let it happen, Sukuna taking note of that as he chuckled condescendingly and you felt his nails skim along your spine.
âMm, youâre an atrocious kisser, I suppose I can account it though for you virginity â or your lack of now,â he hotly whispered in your ear, his tongue making a reappearance to flick at your ear while he sounded not the least bit affected from his actions.
You bit down onto his shoulder to keep the comeback subdued from him insulting you once more, a hum vibrating throughout his chest at the friction it caused and moaned into his skin. Your hands found purchase on his back, scratching at the skin of what you could as drool began to escape your mouth from the way you were getting mercilessly fucked, and all the while Sukuna only continued to drive up into you and listen the gasping noises that left your mouth.
You managed to say one thing however, a garbled variation of his name that you had to gasp for between each syllable in the same wavelength his thrusting was going.
âSu â ku â na ââ
You wondered if the sigh you heard was of your imagination, though you could hardly deny it when afterwards he used the hold he had on your neck to push you back into his line of sight, laughing at your fucked out face and the hand on your tit bouncing along to keep up with toying with your swollen nipple. âDonât run and hide from me now, you looked like you were enjoying yourself⊠No need to be shy, you just needed to get fucked, didnât you?â he drawled out in a purr, that damnable tongue on his abdomen returning to lick at your clit again while he made you look him in eye.
Your pussy pulsed hotly, all your nerves going haywire from the attention your body was receiving from Sukuna, and you used what you could of your muscles to squeeze him of what you could. That slight discomfort was back, your insides getting thoroughly tossed around from the way his cock slammed up into you and he forced you to take it all without a second doubt. You tried to meet him as you went, that band behind your naval continuing to grow and grow in a dangerous vortex, clenching your cunt around him and trying to rock your hips whenever that tongue lapped at you in a slower pace all the while only giving choked gasps as the form of your pleasure.
His thumb tapped your neck, his pace picking up a fraction when he noticed the way you were trying to meet him with a roll down from your hips, and Sukunaâs composure slightly began to slip again. âThis bodyâŠâ he started out, that calm in his voice turning raspy with an underlining growl, âYou⊠A pleaser, arenât you? You shouldâve thought this through, human, this body is mine now â you are mine now. Thereâs no running away from me.â
His words made a round of fluids soak him up further, your stomach twisting at the idea of Sukuna claiming you as his own, and you arched wantonly into him with your head falling back into your shoulder blades and your eyes rolling back into your skull. You could still faintly hear the sound of the water splashing and the resounding noise of your skin slapping together, though you could hardly focus when all you wanted was to appease Sukuna â be it by your body, or your words.
âI donât care,â you whined out, sliding your hands down to his thick, roped muscle of biceps on the top pair of his arms, âIâm yours â take it â take me, please.â
You could hear Sukunaâs breathing get rougher, around the same time his hold on you got tighter and his pace get rougher as he slid his hands down to your lower back, arching you deliciously as your body began to lean back when his own leaned forward. He was borderline growling from his chest, a groan choked up in there as he slapped your breast again before pinching your nipple harshly, âHow sweet of you, itâs a shame you didnât realize the moment I saw you that you were already mine. Virginal, village girl too dumb for any rational thoughts comes to me for salvation, how could I pass that up?â A grunt passed through his lips as he began to weigh back down onto your throat, âIf only they could see you now⊠taking my cock like a whore and begging me to make you mine⊠What would they think about their precious girl then?â
He was possessive, and God, you loved it. Your head was spinning as you spoke, not entirely too sure what you were saying, but not caring since all you wanted was to hear him talk. âThey donât â matter⊠Only you â matter to me â Master.â
âMaybe Iâll let you visit them,â he hissed, disregarding what you had said as the hand on your throat squeezing harder to completely cut off your airway for a moment. The black dots clouding your vision and your lungs shriveling in on themselves not enough to stop the pleasure coursing throughout you as he bent your back further, your head and back skimming the surface of the water while he continued to still fuck into you at a brutal pace. âLet all those meat sacks see the communal marriage candidate and what sheâs become⊠Then Iâll fuck you right in front of everyone so they know you whore yourself out for me now. Make sure they watch the cum seep out of you when Iâm done before I fuck you wherever else I please.â
You couldnât even moan at that, though your cunt squeezing him as hard as it could told him everything, a boisterous laugh that formed into a snarl reaching your ears as the water in the bath sloshed around dangerously and high enough to splash out onto the floor above you two. Sukuna let up on your throat enough for you to take a ragged breath, your body jostling from his ferocious fucking and roughly handling you like you were nothing but a doll letting you moan a jumbled variation of his name when it felt like he was completely tearing your guts apart. He hissed again at your whine, his cock pulsing inside of you burning and a buzz of energy enveloping you both before he mouthing off again what heâd continue to do to you.
âHow about your poor husband-to-be? Iâll find him for you, then Iâll force him to watch me fuck you at his feet before I gut him and he can watch you get fucked again as he slowly dies.â You clenched around him again at the idea, inhumane and disturbing perhaps to a normal person, but to you a fantasy in the making if it was Sukuna. Jealousy looked good on him, and the fact he was jealous over you and something far in the past? You dug nails into his forearms and squeezed him again, gasping each time his cock slammed up against your cervix as he huffed again and slapped your tit, âFucking whore, you love that idea⊠I knew someone like you liked being fucked like this⊠how fun you are.â
Your eyes rolled behind your eyelids, stomach in knots with heat pooling into your lower abdomen as your pussy pulsed with each thrust he threw back into you. The discomfort was still present, but only a faint tingle, the overwhelming ecstasy shooting up through your legs and up your spine doing the most work for you and sending you careening down into euphoria further than you couldâve ever imagined. You could only gasp and whine as he continued to completely ruin your body, your eyes fluttering open the moment you felt an abrupt change in the atmosphere and a strange silence fill the air.
What greeted you was the lanterns flickering throughout the room, the moon waning away into nothing but darkness as the scenery changed to something you had never seen before and something disturbingly horrifying. Gone was the serene night inside of Sukunaâs Onsen, the pretty stars highlighting the midnight sky with the creamy moon shining down on the Earth, instead a darkened cave-like structure with what you could make out to be a giant ribcage of a long dead beast above you and a cesspool of crimson below you before you trailed your eyes back up to the man you knew was responsible for the sudden shift, sitting atop a large pile of skulls from different animals and humans as he only continued to fuck you through whatever he had done. You could only see his lower body from the lack of light, shrouded in fluorescent red watching his cock disappear and reappear into you while that tongue swirled your swollen clit with its tip, a cruel smile on the mouth atop his abdomen before you threw your head back and let yourself be used.
An invasion in your mind made you wince, an abundance of emotions hitting you all at once with variations of heightened arousal, vicious intent and clear signs of an acute sense of fondness. You werenât sure if they were even your own, nor did you get time to even ponder on it a Sukuna abruptly changed the way he was going to fuck you. You gaped with a choked gasp, gazing sightlessly at the everlasting darkness when Sukuna gripped your hips as hard as he dared to without completely crumbling your pelvis, using your body suspended in the air from his lap as leverage to pull you onto his cock, bordering on violent to how he was fucking you but you could only seem to fall deeper into your release as it went.
The raw flesh of your pussy came to life the more it went on, vision nearly growing hazy as you dug your nails into Sukunaâs arms as hard as you could and your moans became nothing but choked pants and gasps. He was so deep inside of you⊠his cock reaching a place you didnât think was humanly possible before his hand on your tits left it to press down on your lower abdomen, enjoying the way you squealed and squirmed underneath him whenever he pushed his cock further into you.
âI can feel your pussy squeezing me, I can feel your body giving in. Are you about to cum for me?â Sukuna spoke heatedly and full of malice, though it was also sultry and full of desire, the smile present on his face you could tell by the way words rolled off of his tongue. He choked you harder until you stiffened, your pussy securing him tightly inside of you and a long drawn-out moan leaving you.
âOh, God,â you whimpered, shutting your eyes once more as you only focused on the way your muscles along your abdomen were contracting and uncontracting in the same fashion your pussy was pulsing. You were close; so so so close.
A bark of manic laughter made you moan whenever his cock jumped from it, Sukunaâs hand leaving your throat to grasp at your face instead to peel your eye open with two fingers, âLook around you, girl. No use calling for that name, not when your entire soul is now mine,â he let go of your eye and cupped your cheek, the tongue on his abdomen hurriedly licking at your clit as Sukuna returned to fucking you instead at a frenzied pace, his growling growing louder and his voice becoming raspier by the second, âFucking â youâre gonna scream for me. Let everyone know who you belong to and whoâs the only person that can fuck you like this forever. Say it and Iâll fuck you full of my cum.â
He was close. Right along the same abyss of a dark path as you were to pleasure.
âWhat do you want?â he hissed.
You could only manage a mumble, âI wanna cum.â
His hips smacked into you. âLouder. Say it.â
The reaction was instantaneous, your muscles bunching up, eyes watering as the pressure in your cunt grew tenfold, his rough movements, and your rapidly approaching orgasm let the words flow freely from your mouth.
âSukuna, please, I wanna cum! Just ââ a louder whine fell out of you when he pushed you down in retaliation for more of your pleas, struggling to take his hard thrusts as you finally felt yourself let go and felt your cunt gush and squeeze one last time as you rambled the rest of your begs in a high-pitched cry.
âMore.â
âIâm yours, Sukuna! Lemme cum â Iâll do anything! I want you to cum inside me so much I canât hold it⊠I want you to cumin me so much thereâs no way I donât get pregnant ââ
Your sentence trailed off as a snarling groan took over the sound all sound there was and his pace kicked into a destructive speed, a distorted curse spitting off his tongue as something popped and a shuttering noise flew into your ears while the inside of you felt briefly stunned from the action. After that, your body was suddenly uncoiling itself in the throes of your orgasm with a screaming plea of his name. Â
Your cunt constricted around his cock in a poor effort to hold on, but the action had you spasming in one of the most intense orgasms you had ever experienced. The others paled in comparison from those late nights fingering yourself at the thought of him, your body feeling electrified from the intensity of it and your limbs jerking to find any part of his body to hold on to as you rushed through it. You didnât know why your cunt and his dick felt like they were buzzing and vibrating from the release, but the heightened stimulation had you squirming throwing your head back as far as you could with a gaping mouth and eyes spinning into your mind while the hairs on your body rose from the change in the atmosphere. You were well aware you had gushed all over his cock as your legs jerked from the pleasure, and in the back of your mind you were only vaguely aware that he was still fucking you.
You nearly felt numb, throat feeling raw and horribly dry from the amount of screaming you had done as your body still bounced from his ravenous thrusts while you came down from that high in tremors. The drool from your mouth was something you didnât notice, your fingers held onto his wrists instead and your legs shook, but none of that mattered when Sukuna groaned aloud, his hand cupping the back of your head before his follow-up snarl was devastating, his hand heaving you upwards back into his lap to sit you upright. You didnât have time to register what he was doing until he viced his teeth back down onto your neck, the bite harsh and his thrusting gone savage while he fought through to his own release.
Sukuna had left you feeling spent and exhausted, legs quivering in their place as your moans fell into huffing noises with your body falling lack in his tight hold as Sukuna only hissed, snarled and groaned his way to finally giving you both what you asked for. The gush of air and energy you felt sparked around you two one last time, expanding throughout wherever you two were as the last of his composure leaving him whenever he pushed up into you with a ferocious jab that fluttered your pussy and a long-uttering satisfied groan vibrated the entire space.
Your eyes spun back as your mouth gaped when you felt the warm spurts of his cum shoot inside of your awaiting cunt and literally stuff you full as a feeling of mild electrification prickled the hair on your body. It nearly felt as if he never was going to stop, the new heat in your pussy sliding throughout the inside of you. You could feel from the thick girth of the liquid passing through your cervix and into your wombs as Sukunaâs hips rocked slowly with each new spray into you until finally he came to a full stop with his cock sitting snugly inside of you to hold all of his cum in your cunt for the time being. His fingers flexed as they returned to both grasping your hips with a hissing exhale that you felt deep into your stomach when he released his neck, and meanwhile you tried to force your mind and body to leave that fucking high and try to at least find yourself into some clarity from probably the best fucking and orgasms you had ever felt.
With your face tucked into his shoulder you felt comforted, closing your eyes for a brief moment as Sukuna relinquished parts of his hold on you, maintaining the hold in your hips however as he sunk back into a relaxed position. You reopened your eyes when you felt him hit a stop, the scenery of the Onsen greeting you once more as you slid down his body in fatigue, legs useless and body beginning to feel the effects of your tryst. You had half a mind to ask him what had happened (and how you felt his emotions), but you put it away for the time as Sukuna seemed like a content cat not wanting to bothered anymore for the day. However you did wiggle in his grasp, feigning a means to get comfortable as you grimaced from the tall-tale sign of the mess he had made of you; a goopy-like substance painting you both that you could nearly hear squish whenever you finally settled down to where you wanted to be.
You only hoped Sukuna didnât mind, biting your cheek and keeping your chin tucked to your chest to avoid his eyes as you rested your head onto his chest. You held it there for a moment, squeezing your eyes shut in case he said anything, but once a few moments passed and you could only hear his breathing, you listened intently. Fighting through your own thundering heartbeat wracking around in your brain and ears, you could hear it, and it lit up a light inside of you the moment you heard the first thump.
A heartbeat.
More importantly, Sukunaâs heartbeat.
It was steady, perhaps beating slower than average, but it was still there.
The magma inside of you had gone quite; no more burning or bubbling in the danger of erupting, instead in its place heavy igneous rocks shimmering with perhaps a gem inside from your turbulent emotions finally being put to rest. It was comforting as it weighed you down, content to say in Sukunaâs presence as long as he allowed you and devote what you could to him as he needed be.
You could feel your cheeks warm, easing more into his body as you finally felt him stretch underneath you, then he was sighing like he was hurt. âDo you think me a monster so much you look to see if I have a heart?â he asked with a tease, a finger dipping into the water next to your hip to circle it around in the seldom that he may have been bored.
You were thankful he couldnât see your expression, for he wouldâve seen the embarrassment written all over it from you being caught red-handed over something so silly. With your cheek squished against his bulging pectoral, you answered, âNo, I just didnât know if curses had oneâŠâ God, you hoped he didnât get offended by that.
He did not, a snort reaching your ears before he flicked your forehead, âI would not be sitting here as we speak if I did not. My heart is still intact much like your own feeble, little organ, though itâs ways stronger than yours as well, little human.â
Sukuna could not go ten minutes without gloating apparently.
You rolled your eyes safely out of his sight, fully prepared to just remain resting on him until he told you to get off of him or something, until he shifted again and you felt the organ connecting you two suddenly stir. You nearly felt like your pelvis was shifting again (God, you werenât going to be walking straight for days) and had to keep from squawking again whenever his cock hardened while remaining inside of you. It popped and you hissed, trying to rise up to pull him out of you, but Sukuna was steadfast keeping you in his lap and his cock snugly inside.
âOwww,â you whined, pulling away from his chest to hold onto his shoulders while you mewled whenever he gave a sharp thrust inwards once more.
Sukuna grinned, nails digging into your hips and a cackle on his tongue, âYou complain now? Youâre an odd one, and part of me thinks you quite like some pain. Got myself a masochistic whore, do I?â
âIâm not â Mmmm, Sukuna,â you broke into a sigh, breath hitching and body coming back to life for pleasure whenever he started to play with your nipples again. Surely not he was prepared to go again⊠You knew he had stamina, but from the way he had fucked you⊠âBut you just ââ
Sukuna tsked, one hand leaving your hip to tweak at your clit and humming whenever bucked onto him, âYou should know better than to think I was done with you ââ
Your world abruptly spun again, one second looking into Sukunaâs shit-eating smirk, and the next you were facing the wall he had been propped up against, your hands gripping the rocks placed there and your body bent over. The only thing keeping your legs from giving out was Sukunaâs new grip on you, guiding your hips back so that your ass met his pelvis and his thighs slapped against your own, and his cock suddenly reentering you with little to no friction due to the amount of cum from both of you still inside of you made you gasp at how fast he did it. Fucking back onto him out of a bodily reaction, he laughed, a hand coming down to slap your ass before he gave one heavy thrust into you, the new angle reaching a deeper spot and starbursts breaking out in your vision.
âLook at you, already used to it. You and I are making up for lost time⊠Iâll fuck you like a bitch first, then Iâll make good use of that mouth.â
You could only moan, back arching deliciously and fingers turning into a white-knuckled grip on the rocks in front of you, and your thoughts could only focus on the fact you had a long night ahead of you whenever his hand slammed down on your back for a deeper arch and his skin began to slap into yours in the sinful melody of your communion.
#{đ©ž} nee fics#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#ryoumen sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna#jjk sukuna#sukuna smut#sukuna x reader#jujutsu kaisen sukuna#sukuna ryoumen x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n#jjk smut
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Two Idiots in Love
Miguel O'Hara x Reader
Warnings: Sex, P in V, choking, breeding kink, innuendos, Miguel it's fucking hard to talk to.
A/N: Hope you enjoy this, I haven't sleep well for three days trying to get it done, but it's finally here. Love y'all xoxox
âââââââ§ââ§ââââââ
Ok, but what about you becoming an Spider just about a year ago?
You are managing just fine.
Things got nasty for a while, thatâs true. Your uncle died, your new responsibilities caught up on you, you almost die fighting some bad guys on your first months⊠And now you just try to eat three times a day (sometimes it doesnât happen), pray to get more than six hours of sleep and do good in college.
But then, out of fucking nowhere, just when you were making peace with what your life was now and who you are, your identity, your place in this big ass world where you were completely alone to bear this double life⊠This giant prick with sullen face and cheeks the size of the moon comes into your life to tell you youâre not alone, everyone here has experienced the same or worse, stop being so dramatic.
So, in a second, your protagonist moment turns to you finding out there were thousands like you out there. And your whole life goes upside down.
Because now you donât have to protect and look out only for your Earth, your city; but everyone elseâs too. You have to travel to the most craziest worlds you couldâve ever imagine and fight horrible creatures you couldnât even conceive its existence. And to make things even worst, Mr. Wide Hindquarters took an special hold of you to help him out with anything he would be âto busyâ to do. Like inform new recruits about their missions, filling out reports, doing research either respecting to what he occupied in the laboratory or to some universe yet to be explored⊠Whatever he needed, you would be called in to do it.
Some Spiders told you you were lucky, not many could work that close to Miguel, let alone being in charge of so many things without screwing something up and getting âtheir head rippedâ. Even Lyla tells you that youâre something special, specially on the hard days, thatâs why Miguel trusts you so much. After that you would just smile tiredly at her, whispering it was okay. Then Lyla would go face Miguel and demand him with a raised eyebrow to give you a break.
You manage for a few months, surrendering yourself to this strange routine. And your even more strange companion.
Every day you walk in to his space, every day he is already there. You turn a personal mission to arrive before he does. You never make it. The man apparently didnât sleep and you arenât waking the fuck up at 3:00am to prove a point or find out. So you let it be as another mystery to be solved.
âGood morning.â You wave your hand at him, making your presence known with that. Sometimes between a yawn, sometimes still cleaning the sleepiness off of your eyes.
âGood morningâŠâ He always adds your last name to his greetings. It makes you feel like you are being scolded. Most of the time he is at the tables, working through the screens; if heâs not there, heâs at the lab, measuring substances with the help of crystal clear instruments.
Without looking at you, he points with his chin to the steaming coffee under the express machine. Through the weeks he has learned exactly how you like it. The first ones he made you were exactly like his: Awful. That couldnât be drinkable. But you thought it was nice of him to always have hot coffee for you, so you didnât say anything. But the faces you made at every sip were worth a thousand words.
Now, as you drink todayâs, you cannot avoid thinking how cute that big stoic man must look every morning pouring the exact amount of sugar and cream you like into the cup. Moving the liquid with a tiny spoon until is all mixed.
He doesnât talk much.
No more than orders and âGo homeâ followed by a âGood nightâ. You let him be for the first weeks. Not your business. But after the first month you knew you would go crazy if you continued this way of living.
You needed to talk to him. You needed to make things less awkward. He was your only human contact sometimes for entire days, and you cannot stand the fact of barely talking to him.
You donât have idea how does the term âcoworkersâ serves on his Earth, but in yours, Human Relationships are encouraged to happen for the sake of teamwork.
With that very idea well tangled on your mind, one of those long days, you take a deep breath, imagine him naked (which isnât difficult to be honest), stare deep into the space and say:
âSohowhaveyoubeen?â Squeaking as fast as you can.
Miguel stops whatever the hell he is doing and turns his head to the right, side eyeing you with a raised eyebrow. You donât even look at him, continuing to fill the document in front of you with the most unstable smile he could have seen in his entire life. Then, he turns around again, coming back to typing into one of the screens. You almost think he has completely ignored you until he answers in another fast and neutral line:
âIâm good.â
You give him an acknowledging nod, smiling softly and returning to your duties.
You had never wished so much to be victim of a lost bullet. Like right now. Like right fucking now. Please.
For one more week you took another personal mission: making a question a day.
âHow was your day?â, âDid you have breakfast?â, âHow was yesterdayâs mission?â⊠It would be a good day if you got more than a monosyllable for answer. It was embarrassing, really. And Lyla looking at you with a grimace made it ten times worst.
After that, you just came in the eighth day and remained silent, focused in finishing all your work as soon as possible rather than trying to make your prick boss to talk to you. You felt bad, actually. Maybe he just doesn't like to talk, maybe you were making him uncomfortable, maybe... Maybe he's just an arse. Yeah, that is probably the right...
"Hm? Uh, what... What is this?" You look up from your tablet, facing the broad of his back walking to the desk at the other side of the room. You raise an eyebrow at the small cardboard box in front of you, the one that Miguel just left there.
"Food." He says as answering the very question to the origin of the universe.
"For me?" You tilt your head and he looks at you like you were stupid. You frown. How were you supposed to know that, when he barely even looks at you?!
"I did too much." He explains. "... So I brought you some. You can throw it away if you don't want it."
You look down at the box again, watching it as the weirdest of things, and cannot help the little smile that creeps up to your lips. You knew Miguel didn't eat at the HQ cafeteria, since he owns an apartment close from here, so this was completely homemade. Hm, you never thought he was into cooking.
"Why can't I give it to someone else if I don't like it?" You respond with an easy smile, almost teasing him.
"Throw it." He sentences without even looking back at you.
You side eye Lyla at your left, who winks at you. This is a whole ass victory. And you and the little hologram girl knew internally Miguel did not like the day you decided to stop trying to talk to him.
"Thank you." You finally murmur. "I really appreciate it."
"It's just leftovers..."
You nod, pursing your lips and⊠Still smiling. Fuck it. It was obvious he was going to dismiss it with something like that.
None of you says anything else for the rest of the day, but you make the choice to keep trying on the small talk every day and Miguel, apparently, started to mess up the amount of ingredients for his meals and brings leftovers almost daily.
You continue with this new routine for another couple of weeks.
With the time passing, you gain more and more confidence to talk to the big guy. Most of the times he doesnât engage in the conversation, it is just you saying your thoughts out loud and telling him everything about your life at college, 'till the point he has a personal beef with some of your classmates. I mean, he doesnât say it but he surely grunts under his breath every time you mention their name.
Gwen did asked you at some point if he really listened to you or if he just... Left you. You wondered the same for exactly... two hours.
"... And I handed him my essay, right? And he looks at me and says: 'So are you going to tell me who is helping you with these or am I going to find out myself?' So I obviously told him nobody was helping me, I just like doing them. And he freaking threatened me saying that if he founds out he's going to fail me. Like... He doesn't even listens. Agh, he hates me..."
"Is the same one who got angry because you were late to his lecture about himself and his recently published book?" That was a week ago. And he remembered.
You nod, sighing. Miguel clicks his tongue, shaking his head with disapproval.
He might not be talkative (at least for now) but he listens to you. You have no doubt left about that. He may not say a single word while you drop a hundred for minute, but he would come the next day asking "How was the test?" or would know you have classes with that professor and add to his daily good night a soft "Good luck tomorrow." You even start catching him lifting the left corner of his lips when you drop a bad joke about all the things you need to get done by the end of the day or about something you heard on your way there.
You noticed it when certain Spider came in to a meeting, a Spider two days ago you and Miguel had gossiped about because you were told something by your friends on Wednesday, Miguel heard some more on Thursday and with a final comment you put the pieces together on Friday, looking at him with a wide proud open mouth as he shook his head with a soft chuckle. Talking to the Spider in question Miguel would turn to you with the most neutral and blank expression and you would still fight to hide your smile at the memory of everything you found out during the week. No one ever noticed and you liked it. Miguel liked it. It was like a private joke only the two of you could share.
"But what would happen?" This was the part Miguel didn't like. "Like, how would you know I would fuck up something?"
"You cannot give Noir a kaleidoscope." He sentences, giving you another raised eyebrow.
You were in the middle of the daily session of Instructive and Informative questions, according to Lyla and you. Miguel prefers to call them Destructive and Irritating.
After today's mission you had taken a particular soft spot fo the black and white Spider, to the misfortune of your boss. So the whole session has been about the long shot of taking special gifts from your dimension to him.
"But why? Really, what's the worst that could happen if I just give him a tiny little kaleidoscope?"
"Ay, Dios, dame paciencia... You already gave him a rainbow slinky spring toy, why do you keep insisting on gifting him more stuff?"
He fix his gaze on you as you lower your eyes down to your lap, fidgeting with your fingers. "... He just looks happy when he sees color."
Miguel sighs, pressing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger.
"I know, but every one of us needs to respect the natural order of our Earth. He shouldn't keep taking things with him that shouldn't be there, do you understand?"
"But..."
"No more 'but's'. I want those reports done by the end of the day." Miguel returns his eyes back to the screen in front of him, dismissing you just with that action. "Get to work instead of keep losing our time with this."
He hates the way you comply to his orders. Hates the way you leave the space beside him empty to go working at the other side of the room, where he can only see your back. He hates when you refuse him to see your face.
The human part in him hates the questioning sessions because they always end up with your heart too big for your own good, crushed a little bit more. The human part in him is what brings him closer to you after a few minutes, talking you through some trivial topics until he can convince you it is all not as bad a it seems, until you smile again when you insist it's okay, that you just needed a minute, that you understand. And he might o might not tell you can give Noir that fucking kaleidoscope if you want it so much.
But some deep and primal part in him whispers into his veins to walk up to you, take you by your jaw, forcing you to look up at him and order you you better not refuse your face to him one more single time again. That if he wishes to see your eyes, the curve of your nose or your lips, you better fucking show them to him... Every day. Every. Time. He. Wants. To.
He gets frustrated when he catches himself in the middle of those thoughts, of the drives. He has been able to control it magnificently 'till now. But he fears the day he won't.
For another while you enjoyed the 'leftovers' brought to you too. But it also came to happen the one day, they stopped being leftovers:
You yawn as you make your way to the exit of the lab, making sure your alarm for tomorrow is correctly scheduled, you can not afford another harsh look from your professors one more time. The building has fallen silent already; most of its ordinary inhabitants have already retired to their rooms or to their home worlds.
Miguel walks up to you from behind, watching you standing at the door. Neither of them managed to see even a ray of sun today. He didn't care, he had something much better to watch all day⊠But he can't help but sigh at the thought of taking it from you.
"Italian or Mexican?" You turn to look at him, barely catching what he said. Both of your brows furrow and he glares at you while adjusting the neck of his jacket on. "For tomorrow's lunch. You want me to bring Italian or Mexican?"
"Oh, uhm..." You widen your eyes, surprised by the consideration. Pursing your lips and squinting, you think about it for a second, but the only possible answer comes immediately after: "Mexican."
"Hm." He nods, fixing his eyes to the front again.
Both start walking now towards the exit of the building. You know you can open your portal to go back home now, but you refuse to do so. Miguel knows there's an exit on the other side of the lab that leads him to a closer path to his apartment, but he refuses to take it. Because you always take this one.
"It's getting chilly." You whisper, watching the first snowflakes of the season falling on the other side of the big windows in the lobby. Miguel hums in response. "I like it, though. The first month working with you I had to carry a fan with me everywhere. I am so sorry for the cost of the electricity bill back then."
Miguel tugs at one corner of his lips, but only that. You tilt your head, glaring at him for a second before you take two fast steps to put yourself in front of him. The poor man has to stick his feet to the floor to avoid knocking over you.
He frowns, confused, and you look up at him with those same eyes filled with determination you put on when you look at the cookies he always -purposely- leaves on top of the highest cupboard in his office. He could only describe it as the face of a master plan, because you would always come back with ideas to get them down without asking him for help. And he loved to play guess with what you would do this time.
"Smile for me." You ask as you were some kind of cameraman, and if he was confused before he's into a new level now.
"What?"
"Y'know..." You bring both of your index fingers to the opposite sides of your face and part your own lips into a simple smile, like showing him what he was supposed to do.
"I know what smiling is." He frowns. "Why do you want me to do it?"
You shrug. "I just... I would be really happy to see it."
Miguel's expression remains unfazed, but he prays to every God out there you can't listen how hard his heart jumped inside his chest when your words reached him.
He swallows. His eyes fix on you and he brings both of the corners of his mouth up, exposing bright teeth and two big fangs that brush on his lower lip in the most precious awkward smile you could have ever seen. His brows are drawn together and he looks like he's in pain, and you know that even if a fucking meteor crashed down in the city right now, you still wouldn't be able to look away.
You clear your throat and lament how his smile is gone as soon as it came. You brush your hand at the back at your neck, nervous, fucking ashamed of your imprudence. Miguel raises an eyebrow at your reaction.
"Thank you. That was nice of you." You smile, avoiding his eyes and solely focusing on the snow awaiting for you. "I'm sorry if it was unpleasant for you. I didn't mean..."
Your words get caught up in your throat when you suddenly feel the texture of fabric coming around your neck. You turn back to look at the front again only to find Miguel tugging his scarf on you, with his fingers making sure it hugged every part of your skin your sweater couldn't.
"Miguel, no. It's even colder here than on my Earth. You need this more than I do." You frown with a worried expression washing over your features.
"You'll come back tomorrow pretty early. And it's going to be cold." You could try and argue about you having your own scarfs to bring tomorrow with you, but his eyes tell you he is not asking.
"... Thank you."
Miguel laments the moment your turn around, laments the moment you don't look at him anymore. He is sure the smile from a minute ago hadn't been anywhere near one of his best, and yet your eyes shone with the light of all the moons he's seen in all of the Earths he has visited.
And as you do a little wave when you start walking away before entering your portal, Miguel waves back, slowly and with only two unsure swings of his wrist. It was enough to make you smile anyway. It was enough to keep him standing there even after you were long gone wondering what the hell he was doing.
When Miguel began to bring food made specially to share, you began to bring desserts from your Earth for him to try.
You both started having lunch together after you told him how tired you were of eating while standing. Don't get me wrong, when you first told him he 'offered' you to go eat at the cafeteria if you wanted it so much. But when he dismisses you for the second time the next day with a 15 minute break to go find somewhere to sit, you, instead, sit down reluctantly at the very center of his work space, just a few meters behind him.
Miguel has to do a fucking double take to make sure he is seeing right before turning around at you calmly crossing your legs on the floor and unboxing today's meal with abrupt and resigned movements.
"Could you be so kind as to explain to me what you are doing?" He tilts his head with amusement when you take the first bite of your food.
"Eating."
"Sitting on the floor?" He raises an eyebrow.
"Sitting on the floor." You nod.
"Care to explain why?" He crosses his arms, pursing his lips when you refuse to raise your eyes at him.
"... Because of you." You murmur, taking another unnecessarily aggressive bite.
"Elaborate, please."
You keep on looking down, chewing the morsel in your mouth. Miguel awaits for you with well known experienced patience. By now, he recognizes when you are mad at him or the world, he sees how you fight to keep calm inside of all of this mess, that's why he always tries to encourage you to talk out the things that bother you, because he's there, he can listen; because he likes the way you smile after you let it all out.
And maybe...
"I don't care about eat sitting comfortably at the cafeteria. I want to eat with you. So if you want to stay here be my fucking guest. I'm staying here too."
Because you were the only one who could throw a tantrum at Miguel O'Hara without flinching.
You have earned that right. You didn't know when, because you insist you don't throw tantrums at him; you're a college student, basically an adult, you don't do tantrums. And still...
"Fine, spoiled girl..." He sighs, walking to get his own little box from the table and then coming to close the space between the two with a few long steps. He sits down right beside you, imitating the way you're crossing your legs. "If you want to eat on the floor, we can eat on the floor."
"I'm not spoiled." You hiss, giving him a deadly side eye that puts on a soft, almost unnoticeable grin on his face. Lyla had made fun of him a few days ago about him spoiling you, but instead of getting on his nerves he took a liking for the nickname. And now you suffer the consequences of it all. "And we wouldn't be eating on the floor if you decided to go to the cafeteria for once."
"... I hate talking to people."
You sigh, nodding. That's exactly why you never push him to do anything of that sort.
"I know." You turn to look at him out of the corner of your eye, noticing how he keeps his head low while eating. "Hey" You call for his attention, smiling. He blinks up to you, tilting his head. "It's okay." Your shoulder drops to his arm. "I like being here. I'm not stuck with you, you're stuck with me."
That makes his eyes catch a little bit more of light.
"Thank you." He whispers.
You stare at him for a second more and he fights to put all of the mess inside his head, his feelings, into his tongue... But he can't. You continue eating, and he knows you would never hold a grudge on him for it, and he's so thankful for that, for you being able to understand the way his actions speak when his words can't. But he still aches at the thought of never being able to tell you everything he wants.
The next morning you walk in to find out a new cleared space beside the screens with an elegant glass table and two chairs. It surely looked expensive, like everything he does and has, but for you, it's just the little corner where you can leave that particular cake from your Earth he seems to like so much, and then go to the laboratory to see the cake you seemed to like so much.
After two more weeks enjoying the day-to-day in the usual things in your life, you and Miguel got to a mission which revealed as the true calmness before the storm.
The anomaly you had fought was stronger than expected, more aggressive, more letal. Everyone had run lucky at least two times to escape from its claws, but you can still remember their closeness, the screams, the sirens at the distance. It all almost ends up with another canonic event altered.
"There's always a first time." Jessica had told you when you finally finished off the anomaly. She was worried about you, and you can't blame her. You haven't even registered how bad you were trembling until it was all over.
"Is there going to be a last time?" You replied, looking up at her with big eyes. And Miguel, only a few meters behind you, still trying to give some last orders to every Spider there, felt his heart breaking at the very sound of your words.
Nevertheless, thankfully, the universe remained perfectly fine and just a couple of hours later everyone was back home safely again. Most returned immediately to their Home Earths, but you, Miguel, Jessica, Lyla and a couple more had ten thousand things to do in the HQ before calling it a day.
"I thought I told you to go home an hour ago." Miguel points, coming from behind you.
You turn your head to look up at him and you can't not smile at the sight. The feeling of safeness that floods you when you see his huge figure entering any room hasn't wavered for a single second. He's still that solid ground you can always rest on when the world is to heavy to carry alone.
"I'm serious. What are you doing here?" He continues, grunting in pain when he drops his weight beside you. You turn to him, furrowing your brows in worry again. He had seen that expression in you so often today... And he hates it so much. "I'm okay. Just little scratches here and there."
You withdrawn your feet from the edge of the building where you had them hanging for an hour now and crawl your way to him, sitting down on your knees to try to be eye height with him.
Your right hand wanders to his bruised neck, there where the anomaly had left his horrible mark of the violence it brought within. You follow with your index the way the clotted blood draws on his skin, sending shivers down his spine.
"Does it hurt?" You ask.
"No." He responds in between goosebumps.
He loves the effect your touch has on him. He loves your little hands looking for him, tugging at his clothes to call for his attention, brushing against his when you pass him the tablet, documents, anything. He loves the busy days where he doesn't have time to eat, where he wouldn't eat if it wasn't for you sitting beside him as he works on the screens, you scrolling through your cellphone, taking little pieces of food with a spoon or a fork to bring them closer to his mouth so he could eat without even taking his eyes off the screen.
Ridiculous? Yeah. But he loved the intimacy within. The many forms your soft hands could soothe him.
But his? He hated them. He was scared of them. Their only use was to destruct, to tear flesh apart, not to...
"Show me." He asks, pointing with his chin at your left hand placed softly above your thigh.
"It's nothing."
"Let me see it." He insist and you carefully bring your arm up, placing your fingers against his when he holds out his hand for you. Your whole palm is bandaged, the work the doctor did on you was amazing, but he can still see dried blood on it.
He doesn't say anything when he finds your eyes on him, conflicted, hesitant. There is so much between both of you, so much unsaid, so much still to do. But he sees your doubt, he hates to be the cause of it. He stays still, but he wants to scream at you, to make your little head understand: "How can't you see?! Can't you see how much you mean to me?! You're the only thing in my mind when I'm fighting, because I know I have to win, I have to get out alive to see you again. Eres lo Ășnico por lo que mi corazĂłn llama!... Can't you not hear it?"
Instead, the tips of his fingers brush on your skin, his eyes reflecting every single light of the city below.
"Come." It's only a whisper that leaves his mouth, and you need nothing more to jump into his embrace with a desperate sigh, immediately cuddling yourself up on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, looking for his warm.
Hold.
He loves to hold you.
His hands serve to hold you.
To hold you against him, to protect you from anyone who wants to rip you away from his arms. To keep you warm, to keep you safe, to let you know you're home.
"AquĂ estoy." He whispers.
"I know." You reply.
You breath into his scent for a couple of minutes more, until the screams and the sirens fell low to the sound of Miguel's chest going up and down in a soothing swing, his breathing, turning into the only thing you could listen to.
By the time you got your head out of his neck, he was already waiting for you with a soft smile, smile that puts your attention on the deep cut on his lower lip.
"What happened?" You ask, carefully pulling from his flesh to see the whole extension of the wound.
He sighs, closing his eyes with embarrassment. "I bit myself during the fight."
You smile, shaking your head. Your fingernail taps against the right fang in question, testing the edge by gently pressing the tip into your fingertip.
"I hate them." Miguel breaths out. His eyes are now so dim that you struggle to say where are they looking at in the middle of the night darkness.
"Why?" You whisper, taking your finger back at his lip.
"Because I fear of them. I fear they'll hurt you like they hurt me."
You purse your lips and then take his hand placed on your hip, looking back at him with raised eyebrows.
"Is the same with these?"
He nods.
"They are made to kill. I have done so many horrible things with, caused so much damage and pain, I..."
"Did you know I'm scared of heights?" His trail of words stop at your interruption. You smile, looking down from the edge, turning away form him just a little. "Ironic, for a Spider. But I still fight with it every single day. I always get so sticky when I'm on top of a building for too long it's embarrassing but..." You raise your hand in front of him, waving your fingers with a playful smile. "I'm not sticky now. And that it's because you're holding me." You cup his face. "Those things you're afraid of, are part of the person I love. And I wouldn't change a single thing."
"Mi cielo..."
"I knew what I was getting into when I decided to love you, Miguel, so don't get all soft now. I'm not going anywhere..." You whisper. "Make me bleed."
He would be lying if he said he haven't thought about it, that he haven't succumbed to his most animalistic urges when alone in the privacy of his room, pretending it was you around his cock and not his fist. He wanted to bite, he wanted to fill you. And he wanted to tear apart with his bare talons anyone and anything that got in his way.
A part of him might be scared to hurt you, yes.
But a bigger part of him was actually scared of what he would do to keep you safe. Of what he's capable of... to keep you his.
He feels sorry for you when you cuddle against his chest in your sleep as he stands up and starts walking back inside the building, covering you with his jacket to protect from the cold wind of the city for when he swings back to his apartment with you in his arms.
He feels sorry for the innocence in your love.
Like a beast, that's what he was. A beast who loved the softness in your touch, the kind in your words. But cannot return the same love. The beast is possessive, jealous of the very air that caresses your hair. And it may act vulnerable only to you, letting you get as close to slaughter him, but knowing you'll place a kiss instead. The beast would hold you as his own treasure, a creature that must not be hurt, not even for his own hands. He would cut them off before.
He would cut them off from anyone before they touch you. For no one should ever touch what he decided, that very morning you asked how he had been, would belong to him.
AND EVERYTHING WOULD HAVE CONTINUED ON GOING SO SMOOTHLY... BUT THE DAAAAAAAAMN FINALS, ah, made their entrance.
You barely have time to sleep, to eat, to fucking breathe. Your levels of anxiety are higher than the HQ damn building and your brain is so overworked you cannot do more than what you're asked to in autopilot. You know that you're only going to be like this for approximately another two weeks, but your poor lover has suffered the last four days thinking you're sick, or sad, or worse... Mad at him. No, not in that order.
"Arañita..." He calls for you. Your hand moving over your notebook at one hundred km per hour concerns him.
"The reports are done. Peter from -5266 and Hugh from -1993 are out right now. They should be getting back at any minute. Anomaly #125 was sent to its original universe this morning." You push the tablet to him with your free hand without even looking up or slowing down your writing.
"Thank you, but..." He tilts his head, furrowing his brows. "Are you okay?"
"Yes. I just need to get this done before four. By the way, can I leave early today? I need to study for tomorrow's test."
"Again? Didn't you have one yesterday?"
"Yes. We're on finals, Miguel. We tend to have a lot of them these days. That's why I'm losing my mind over here."
"Just for some tests?" You have to stop yourself to remind you it's not his fault to be smart. It's not his fault being more intelligent than almost every person you knew. It's not his fault he doesn't know what is to struggle on school. It's not his fault, It's not his fault, It's not his fault... "You haven't even touched your food." He says, looking at the little box he got you with the meal now cold.
"I... I know. I'm sorry, Mig." You sigh, looking up at him for the first time in the day. "I'm just really stressed out right now. But I promise I'll take it back home later, okay?"
This was also the fourth day you didn't stay at his place. My man doesn't want to be a burden, but he has attachment issues, ok?, and after the week you spent sleeping in his arms, it may or may not be that Miguel has been having trouble falling asleep without the weight of your body on his chest.
After watching you leave that day, Miguel found himself staying till unreasonable hours of the early morning working in the lab. There was no point on going back to his cold apartment anyway... And he had a lot of things to get done. He didn't have time to...
"Oh, it's you." Miguel jumps in his place at the sudden voice calling from behind. "I thought that poor girl had stayed here, with all the things she seems to be doing these days."
The man shakes his head, ignoring Jessica closing the distance behind him, leaning against the door frame. Miguel can almost make out the little smile on her lips without turning around, and that only infuriates him even more.
"And why do you look like a caged lion?" She mocks. "Trouble in paradise?"
Miguel's first instinct is snap back at her and ask her to leave him alone. He knows she would comply, what he doesn't know is how benefic that would be for his current situation.
"I don't know what's going out with her." He admits, letting his head fall in irritation. "She says she's having some tests right now, but she's just to... Stressed? I don't know. She's so smart I cannot conceive how bad this is affecting her." The laugh that emanates from Jessica's throat makes his ears go red. "What?"
"Oh, babe, when was the last time you went to college?" Jessica puts both of her hands on her waist, pursing the lips to avoid smiling again.
"Why is that important?"
"When, Miguel?" She demands.
"Ugh... I don't know. Like four-five years ago."
"When was the last time you failed a class?"
"Never." He immediately responds.
"When was the last time grades were important on your Earth?"
Miguel frowns. "I don't remember. The path for learning had changed long before I was born. I don't even think I ever had something like a grade. We were judged individually for our skills and our intelligence type. Not memorization."
"Exactly." She claps, pointing at him with a all-knowing finger. "Thanks to that you got the chance to develop your true abilities as a student, but our girl from 2023 it is not beneficiary of this privilege. She doesn't get the chance to strengthen in what she is good, she must memorize and memorize and memorize over and over again. Because the tests on her Earth aren't done with the purpose of just checking how is her knowledge progressing, they are done to see if she's worthy of continuing forward in her very career."
Miguel remains silent for a minute, swallowing all the new information by pieces. For someone so smart, Jessica has never see him seem so lost. The nuts in his brain begin to turn and turn until his eyes seem to light up with the clarity of the light of the new world.
"Hm." He nods. "Thank you."
The woman knows he doesn't need anything more when he turns around, typing into one of the screens something that escapes from her eyes.
During the rest of the two weeks of finals, Miguel tried to do his best to support you.
He even read all of the information about your education system, striving to understand everything in just a couple of nights.
He's a man on a mission: letting you know he's there, that you're strong and smart, and you can do it.
While you study in the lab, he leaves you be. He gets you coffee, or tea, or anything you prefer. He might even hiss at people entering his space (your space) making too much noise, pointing at you with his chin and threatening eyes.
"Hey, girl..." Peter B. comes in one morning, moving nervously under the scrutinizing gaze of your lover. "Don't be so harsh on yourself..." He gives you some awkward pats on the back, smiling. "You're doing great."
That was all it took.
"No, I'm not!" You weep, letting your head fall on the desk, shaking between sobs.
"Great. Ya la hiciste llorar." Miguel pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing. "Here, give it to her." He calls for Peter's attention, handing him an specific chocolate.
Peter takes it with confused eyes, offering it to you, reaching out his arm as if he were to touch you, you'll explode.
"Here." He says. "Look what I got."
You raise your eyes, meeting the little packing. Then, when you look at him, Peter almost thinks he just made all worst.
"Oh, Peter... Thank you!" You take the chocolate, pulling from him to a big hug. "I love these so much, thank you! You're so kind!"
Peter lets you be, looking back at Miguel who just nods at him to let him know this wasn't his first rodeo. He pats your back, soothing you with some more nervous words until you're ready to let him go.
If you're really struggling, Miguel won't think twice to help you. He's smart, it takes him nothing more than a look to his old notes or a quick search on the internet (specially if you're studying something science related or an engineering, if you're on law or arts, oh boy, you're gonna make this man suffer) to know exactly what you need and make sure you're taking that fucking project tomorrow.
Some other days, he just catches you sleeping with your hands crossed above the table and your saliva drooling out to your notes. His jacket would then come over you, after, he would take your pending stuff and start solving problems and making notes for you to have it easier at the memorizing part of the study.
You always wake up to see the edges of your paper full of arrows, little equations and encircled key words. And, sometimes, a tired Miguel sleeping uncomfortably by your side, just waiting for you to tell him it's time to go.
The day, a Friday, where you're finally done with college (at least for a couple of months) Miguel felt it like the day his soul came back to his body.
You are smiling all day again, calling his name, doing a mess all over the whole building. And he can not be more happy about it.
He might never tell you, me might even justify himself saying he had been staying up late working in the lab every time you ask for the bags under his eyes. Because he's definitely not telling you there were nights where he couldn't even close his eyes 'cause you weren't there with him.
"Time to go home." You hum behind him, getting all of your stuff inside your backpack.
"Thank God" He rubs his neck, walking closer to you to give you a soft kiss on the forehead. "I'm dying."
You yawn, nodding. "Me too. These weeks drained me."
"Me too." He repeats, and you don't know how much he means it. "Let's just go to sleep, yeah? Hopefully tomorrow there won't be so much to do."
You smile, leaning into his embrace as you walk out the door, hearing the lights turning off as both come closer and closer to the exit.
"Yeah, that sounds good."
"Okay."
"Okay."
Miguel steadies your body by pressing down on your hips, keeping your ass on the bed. You try to push his face out of between your thighs but he refuses to pull apart.
"Miguel!" You cry out, tears rolling down your cheeks cause of the overstimulation he was putting you in. "Too much, too much..."
His fingers curl inside you one more time, and your arch your back, almost rolling your eyes at the feeling. His tongue flicks over your sensitive bud again, dragging choked moans out of you. You try to squirm away but his hands pull you from your ass back at him as soon as you start moving.
"Easy there, Arañita. I'm almost done." He smiles up at you, letting you see the lower half of his face completely covered in your arousal.
"Mig... Mi amor..." You breath out, trying to push him out again when his chuckle crashes against your folds.
"One more, love, and you'll be ready for me." He sucks on your clit as he speaks, moving his fingers with an slower pace now. "Uno mĂĄs, mamita, dame uno mĂĄs."
He pushes his face down on you, working his tongue all around your most needy spot with his digits burying now deep inside you, hitting that soft place between your walls that makes you want to cry. You're a mess of moans and whimpers by now, but when his teeth slowly press on your clit, it's over for you. Your eyes roll back, your thighs tremble around him, encaging him in his favorite prison as he guides you through it, moaning into your skin when he feels your pleasure dripping on him, motivating his hips to hump against the mattress as a fucking teenager would do.
After you get down from your high, you look up at him to find him positioning himself between your legs, dragging the tip of his cock up and down on your folds.
"Miguel, wait, I'm..."
"You know your safe word, mamita, you can make me stop whenever you want." He places your legs on his shoulders and his hands on your hips, keeping you just as he wishes to. "I'm going in, and I want your eyes on me all the time I fuck you, Âżme entiendes, hermosa?"
You nod, watching the point where both of your bodies would join. He enters slowly, giving you time to adjust his size. But after the first hint of your hips trying to feel him even more, he pulls back and thrusts all the way in, making your head fall back as your back arches.
His right hand grabs you by the jaw, forcing you to open your eyes and observe how red his irises had turned.
"Eyes on me."
His pace speeds up, bottoming out with every thrust he makes. Your hands push at his lower abdomen, biting your lip to avoid crying out loud again.
"Too fast, Mig. Too much." You moan, your still overstimulated clit rips another whimper from you every time his happy trail and trimmed hair crashes against it. You were barely holding on, but your lover can't never get enough. His body reaches down, and as he places one hand around your neck, his other thumb toys at your clit in a excruciating pace. "Fuck! No, Miguel."
You tremble under him, wrapping your legs around his waist when you cannot think about anything more than cumming. Your nails bury on the skin of his back, dragging an out of breath grunt out of him.
"I'm, I'm cum-" You try to voice but nothing in your brain seems to work anymore.
"Do it, love. I got you." He keeps up his pace, almost kissing your cervix by now. "Cum for me, mi amor."
His hand squeezes a little bit harder on your neck and you need nothing else to see fucking white. Your mouth opens in a big O before your start trembling, shaking uncontrollably under his body, letting out the sweetest of sounds for him to hear.
He grunts, falling into the crock of your neck when you tighten your walls around him.
"I'm going to fucking fill you." He's out of breath and he curses something in Spanish you cannot make out. "I'm going to put a baby on your tummy, mamita..."
"Miguel..." You were on the verge of tears again, you cannot longer feel your legs but you surely can feel him deep inside you.
"Yes, love. Fuck... I'm cumming. I'm..." He bites down on your flesh, sinking his fangs into your skin when his hips stutter. His talons grow so big they dig into the headboard.
You moan at the feeling, hugging your body to his until he can breath normal again.
When he looks back at you his eyes have returned to that soft brown you're used too.
"Are you okay?" He asks, sending shivers down your spine when he caresses the sore skin.
"Yes." You smile and he traps your lips into a kiss. "And now I'm really fucking tired."
He chuckles, lifting his weight onto his forearms.
"Come here, amor. Let's take a shower so you can rest comfortably." He places another soft peck on your forehead. "I'll wash your hair."
You definitely know he will do more than that.
PD: Tbh with you guys, all I could think about while writing this was this tiktok:
#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara imagine#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel o'hara x you#miguel ohara#miguel ohara x reader#miguel ohara x y/n#miguel o'hara smut#miguel ohara fluff#miguel ohara smut#spiderman 2099#across the spiderverse#atsv#peter b parker
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001 | THE GARDEN
tags: trueform!sukuna x servant!fem reader, angst, smut(ish), pet names, lots of tension, teasing, mentions of death, mdni.
w.c: 3.9k (damn)
a/n: sorry for not posting in a whileeđđ Iâve been so sick and still am đ€§ đ but this is req from this ask! (I will be making multiple parts to this i was writing a lil too much đ)
+ likes and reblogs are appreciated!
part 2!
âsukuna-sama expects his dinner,â one of sukunaâs subordinates announces, pushing open the heavy wooden door to the kitchen. you and several other servants are already hard at work preparing the meal.
everyone tenses at the reminder, knowing that sukunaâs patience is thin. this is your first time preparing his dinnerâusually, youâre assigned to gardening or cleaning. the sight before you is almost too much: bones, flesh, and organs stacked on the plate, creating a grotesque pile. the stench of death fills the air, making your stomach churn as you try not to gag.
as the meal is finished, you grab the edges of the heavy plate, bracing yourself for the weight of the revolting flesh.
âyouâre not worthy to deliver the kingâs food,â yorozu sneers, snatching the plate from your hands with a flick of her wrist. âyou might upset him and end up as his next meal,â she adds, carrying the plate effortlessly while laughing as she exits. her mocking tone stings, and you canât help but think of her with contempt as you and the other servants clean up.
bitch.
unable to bear the stench any longer, you leave the kitchen early. the other servants understand and let you go, knowing the smell has become too much for you. as you walk down the dimly lit hallway, you look up at the open ceiling, where stars shine faintly against the night sky. an eerie wind howls through the corridor, its sound both creepy and mesmerizing.
you glance towards the servant quarters but are drawn to the door leading to the garden. it feels like something is beckoning you, so you decide to take a detour. opening the door, youâre greeted by the moonlit gardenâa stark contrast to the darkness inside. the flowers and fruit glow vibrantly under the moonlight, and the trees sway with the force of the wind.
walking deeper into the garden, you stop on the wooden bridge over the koi pond. you peer into the water, watching the koi fish below. as you look closer, your reflection shimmers in the rippling water. the fish suddenly dart away, disappearing in an instant. your confusion grows as you focus on your reflection and see four red orbs glowing ominously behind you.
frozen in place, fear grips you tightly. your heart pounds wildly, and youâre paralyzed by the chilling presence that seems to lurk just out of sight. your mind races, but you remain utterly silent and immobile, trapped by the eerie, haunting feeling that you are being watched.
you stand there frozen, the chill of fear gripping your body as your heart pounds furiously. youâre paralyzed by terror, unable to make a sound, not even a whisper.
âawh, i wish to get more of a reaction out of you,â the unknown voice murmurs darkly. slowly, you turn to see an extremely tall man with an array of unsettling features. the sight nearly makes you faint. the king.
âmy lord,â you stammer, bowing deeply in respect. he chuckles at your rapid attempt to regain composure.
âitâs very easy to get into your head,â he observes, scanning your trembling form. âis there nothing up here?â he laughs, knocking your head playfully. you wince at his touch and rub your head, frowning at his mockery.
âthere is,â you retort, turning your gaze away from him. youâre not trying to be disrespectful, but his subtle insult stings.
your heart still races as you focus on the rippling water beneath the bridge. sukuna towers over you, his presence as oppressive as the dark night sky. the garden around you is shrouded in shadows, illuminated only by the faint glow of the moon and the shimmering koi fish gliding silently beneath the waterâs surface. the air is eerily quiet, broken only by the soft rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of insects.
âso, what brings you to my garden, little one?â sukunaâs voice slices through the silence, smooth but laced with a sharp edge. you turn to look at him; this time, heâs also peering down at the fish.
you hesitate, unsure of what to say. the truth is, you hadnât meant to end up hereâyou were simply drawn in by some inexplicable force. but could you really admit that to him? that you felt something calling you?
âi⊠needed some fresh air, sukuna-sama,â you finally reply, your voice barely a whisper. itâs a weak excuse, but itâs all you can muster.
he chuckles darkly, the sound low and rumbling, as if he can see right through your flimsy explanation. âfresh air? after dealing with my dinner? you must have a stronger stomach than i thought,â he teases, his tone carrying a hint of disbelief. he steps closer, the wooden bridge creaking under his weight. âor maybe youâre just running away from something?â
you stiffen, his words cutting close to home. heâs right, of course. youâre runningâfrom the stench of death, from the sight of flesh and bone, from the reality of serving someone like sukuna. but admitting that feels like exposing your most vulnerable self, and youâre not ready for that.
âno, my lord,â you say, shaking your head. âi just needed a moment to clear my thoughts.â
sukuna hums, clearly unimpressed by your response. he circles around you, his movements slow and deliberate, like a predator sizing up its prey. you can feel his gaze lingering on you, making you hyper-aware of every breath you take, every inch of space between you.
âclear your thoughts, huh?â he muses, his voice dropping to a near whisper. âwhat could a little servant like you possibly have to think about?â his tone is mocking, almost condescending, yet thereâs a genuine curiosity in it.
you swallow hard, feeling the weight of his words pressing down on you. what could you say that wouldnât sound trivial to a man like him? youâre just a servantâyour worries are insignificant compared to his vast existence. but something about his questionâand the way he seems to revel in your discomfortâmakes you want to push back, just a little.
âi think about a lot of things, my lord,â you say softly, trying to keep your voice steady. âlike the stars, or the way the wind feels at night. or the flowers in the garden.â you pause, glancing at him from the corner of your eye. âeven⊠even what it must be like to be someone like you.â
the last part slips out before you can stop yourself, and you immediately regret it. your heart skips a beat as you brace for his reaction, fearing youâve crossed some invisible line. but to your surprise, sukuna doesnât lash out. instead, he halts, staring at you with an unreadable expression.
âsomeone like me?â he echoes, his brow arching with a mix of curiosity and disdain. âand what do you imagine itâs like, little one? to be someone like me?â
you hesitate, unsure how to respond. you hadnât really thought it throughâyour words had just spilled out in the heat of the moment. but now that heâs asking, you canât back down.
âi imagine itâs lonely,â you whisper, your voice trembling slightly. âto have so much power, but no one who truly understands you. no one who dares to stand by your side, except out of fear.â
the garden falls into silence, the weight of your words hanging heavily in the air. you can feel sukunaâs gaze boring into you, but you donât dare meet it. your heart races, fearing youâve gone too far.
then, sukuna does something unexpectedâhe laughs, a low, dark laugh that sends shivers down your spine. âlonely?â he repeats, as if the concept is foreign to him. âyou think iâm lonely?â
he leans in closer, so close that you can feel his breath on your skin. âlet me tell you something, little servant,â he murmurs, his voice soft but laden with menace. âi donât need anyone to stand by my side. i donât need understanding or companionship. all i need is power, and the fear it brings. thatâs what sustains me.â
his words are harsh, but thereâs something in his toneâa hint of something deeper, something heâs not willing to admit. you feel a pang of sadness, realizing that beneath all that power, thereâs a void he refuses to fill.
âyou should be careful, doll,â he says, his voice low and warning. âcuriosity can be dangerous. especially when it comes to me.â
with that, he straightens up, turning to leave. but before he can take a step, he pauses, glancing back at you with a smirk. âperhaps iâll visit you again. after all, i find your little thoughts quite entertaining.â
your breath catches as you watch him disappear into the shadows, leaving you alone in the garden once more. the night is still, the stars shining brightly overhead, but the fear that had gripped you earlier has lessened, replaced by something elseâsomething you canât quite put into words.
⚯. âș âŠÂ âč . *-
the next evening, you enter the shared servant quarters with a basket of clothes, overhearing yorozu and your other roommates gossiping about what happened in sukunaâs chambers. you pretend not to listen as you place the basket on the bed and start folding the clothes, trying to catch snippets of their conversation.
âheâs a maniac,â yorozu boasts loudly, âhe even made love to me until sunriseâoh, how incredible it felt.â
you raise your brows at her blatant lie. after your encounter with sukuna, you had carefully snuck into the room to find yorozu and the others fast asleep.
what a liar.
the girls listening to yorozu gasp in awe, pleading for more details about her so-called night with the king. their excitement fades, however, as the door swings open, and uraume enters. the ladies quickly notice their presence and bow in respect.
âsukuna-sama has requested you to give him his bath,â uraume announces, looking directly at you. you glance around, wondering if uraume might have mistaken you for another servant.
âme?â you ask, pointing at yourself in confusion. the other servants exchange glances of barely concealed disgust. uraume nods, and they take their leave, closing the door behind them and leaving you in an awkward silence.
you smile to yourself as you hear yorozuâs incredulous question about why youâre the one chosen to assist with sukunaâs bath. youâre not a high-ranking servant, let alone someone who should be in his presence for more than a minute, much less during a bath.
discarding the basket of clothes, you rush out of the room, a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation bubbling inside you about what might unfold between you and sukuna.
the walk to sukunaâs chambers nearly left you breathless, so secluded is his room from the rest of his vast estate. the wooden double doors, adorned with menacing skulls, creak open as uraume gestures for you to enter. they guide you past the threshold and direct you towards the private pool area, marked as the exit.
as you step into his room, youâre struck by its enormity. itâs so grand that it seems like a small residence in itself, complete with its own living area, kitchen, and even a staircase leading to what you assume must be his private quarters. the room boasts a massive balcony overlooking the villages below, offering a breathtaking view. to one side, a door leads to his expansive garden.Â
fear courses through you as you sense his overwhelming presence grow stronger. your gaze is drawn irresistibly to the garden door, and something compels you forward. you push the door open and step into the garden, which is bathed in the soft glow of moonlight.Â
there, in the center of the garden, is a large, dark pool. steam rises from the bubbling water, adding an ethereal quality to the scene.
and there he is.
sukuna sits in the pool, his eyes closed. his two arms rest casually on the edge, while the other two are submerged beneath the surface. his chest, covered in ancient tattoos, glistens with water droplets under the moonlight. the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest with each breath is the only movement in the otherwise still night.
âthere you are, my little one.â
you stood there, swallowing hard as he opened his eyes to meet yours. his hand motioned for you to come closer, and you obeyed, lowering yourself to your knees beside him.
âsomething disturbing you?â he asked, feigning concern as he searched your eyes for a reason. ânothing, my lord. Iâm just surprised you requested me instead of yorozu.â
a smirk played on his lips as his fingers lightly brushed the fabric of your kimono. âjoin me,â he said, his tone laced with a provocative edge. your eyes widened at the request, and you stumbled over your words, unable to form a coherent response. all you could hear were the faint pops of bubbles in the pool.
âunless youâd prefer I call for yorozu,â he added, a hint of amusement in his voice that sparked a pang of jealousy in you.
with a deep breath, you carefully stood up, untying your kimono and letting it pool around your feet as sukunaâs gaze remained fixed on your bare figure. he bit his lip, watching as you hesitantly stepped into the steaming water. the heat was intense, but you pushed through, your entire body soon engulfed by the water. sukunaâs arms, hidden beneath the surface, wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer until you were resting on his lap. you flinched at the unexpected contact.
you could feel his cocks.
he chuckled at your reaction, his laughter carrying a hint of cruel amusement. âdoes her name strike a nerve?â he taunted as you glanced around, avoiding his gaze while taking in the gardenâs beauty. without warning, he grabs your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. âI donât like being ignored, woman.â
âit doesnât seem fair that you have sexual relations with her and then summon me. youâre only going to make the other servants despise me,â you confessed, your voice trembling. his expression was unreadable, leaving you unsure whether he was angry or merely contemplating your words.
your pulse quickens as sukunaâs intense gaze pins you in place, his four crimson eyes gleaming with dark amusement. his massive form looms over you, every inch of his heavily tattooed body radiating power and menace. the steam swirling around you thickens the air, and the bubbling water at your waist feels like itâs vibrating with the tension between you.
âjealousy doesnât suit you,â sukuna murmurs, his voice a low growl that sends a shiver down your spine. his tone is laced with condescension, as if daring you to challenge him. one of his hands tightens its grip on your waist, while another trails a sharp claw along the side of your neck, dangerously close to your pulse.
you swallow hard, trying to maintain composure, but your voice betrays you with a slight tremor. âiâm not jealous,â you lie, even as your heart races. âi just donât understand why you would entertain her lies.â
sukunaâs lips curl into a cruel smirk, his sharp teeth glinting in the dim light. âentertain her lies?â he echoes mockingly, leaning in so close that his breath fans across your face. âyou think i care about what that pathetic woman says? the only reason i acknowledge her existence is to see you squirm.â
he moves one of his lower arms to grip your chin, forcing you to look up at him. his eyes bore into yours, and the sheer intensity of his gaze makes your knees feel weak. âyouâre nothing but a fool to her,â he continues, his voice dripping with venom. âa pawn in her petty games. but you⊠youâre mine.â
your breath hitches as his words send a jolt of heat through your body, leaving you torn between the urge to slap him and an even stronger, confusing desire. the steam rises thicker around you, wrapping you both in a cocoon of suffocating heat, and the bubbling water feels like itâs boiling against your skin.
âiâm not a toy,â you manage to say, though the words sound weak even to your own ears. sukunaâs laugh is low and menacing, and you feel his upper arms encircle you, pulling you closer to his enormous chest, his wet skin slick and warm against yours.
âoh, but you are,â he purrs, his voice both mocking and seductive. âmy toy. my plaything. and iâll do with you whatever i please.â
the heat of the water and the intensity of his gaze create a pressure that feels almost unbearable. his four crimson eyes lock onto yours with a predatory gleam, while his massive, tattooed form looms over you. the steam from the bubbling pool rises in thick clouds, obscuring everything but the two of you, wrapping you in a suffocating cocoon of heat and desire.
sukunaâs hands continue their torturous exploration. his lower arms grip your waist, holding you flush against him. his touch is deliberate, almost maddeningly slow, as his fingers trail lightly along your sensitive slit, spreading your folds making you whimper at his touch. every brush of his fingertips makes you shiver, your body reacting instinctively to the teasing pressure.
âyou feel that?â sukuna growls, his voice rough with dark pleasure. his fingertips linger at your entrance, grazing the sensitive area with tantalizing slowness. âevery inch of you is responding to me. donât try to deny it.â
the water around you bubbles more furiously, the heat intensifying as sukunaâs touch grows bolder. your breath hitches with every pass of his fingers, your hips slowly grinding on his fingers for something more. the tension between you thickening until it feels like itâs pressing down on you from all sides. the steam is stifling, making it hard to think, and the heat of the water feels almost like a physical presence, amplifying the pressure of sukunaâs touch.
you try to maintain your composure, but your voice betrays you, trembling with barely contained desire. âiâm not yours,â you manage to say, though the words sound weak against the backdrop of his dark amusement.
sukunaâs lips curl into a cruel smile, his sharp teeth flashing in the dim light. âoh, but you are,â he murmurs, his voice both mocking and seductive. âand deep down, you know it. you canât hide from what you want.â
his lower arms grip your hips firmly, pulling you snugly against him. you gasp as his fingertips graze your clit with a teasing touch, sending a shiver of electric pleasure through your body.
âmy precious brat,â sukuna growls, his fingers continuing their teasing caress, barely making contact but just enough to drive you wild with anticipation. the sensation is maddening, the heat of his touch against your sensitive skin making it hard to focus on anything but the overwhelming need building within you.
you try to maintain control, but your breath comes in shallow, uneven gasps. ââm not yours,â you repeat, shutting your eyes, hoping he would do something.
sukunaâs eyes glint with cruel satisfaction as he increases the pressure slightly, his fingers brushing over your clit with a teasing rhythm. the dizziness increases as the pressure of his touch and the intensity of his gaze combine.Â
sukuna smirks as he brings his hand from the water to pinch your neglected breasts, pulling and teasing your nipples until you gasp loudly. simultaneously, his fingers rub circles on your poor clit with a harsh rhythm, each touch sending sharp jolts of pleasure through your body. the sensations blend together, leaving you dizzy and disoriented, as if youâre drunk off his touch.Â
the steam seems to wrap around you tighter, making it hard to think clearly. sukunaâs touch is relentless, the teasing strokes sending waves of heat through your body. your mind is spinning, caught between the heat of the water, the pressure of his touch, and the oppressive weight of his presence.
his fingers trace along the edges of your entrance with agonizing slowness, the touch making your body quiver with anticipation your breasts aching at the teasing. sukunaâs hands grip you tighter, pulling you closer, and the sensation of his body against yours only adds to the unbearable pressure.
âsay it,â he commands, his voice rough and demanding. âtell me youâre mine.â
the words catch in your throat, the intensity of the moment making it almost impossible to speak. the steam, the heat, the pressure of sukunaâs touchâall of it overwhelms you. the tips of his fingers push into your hole, your body instinctively wanting more. the tension breaks, and the words slip from your lips, barely audible over the sound of the bubbling water.
âf-fuck yours- âm yours ,â you whisper, your voice trembling with the weight of the admission. he widely smirks as you gave in, knowing that youâre his. the heat of the water, the intensity of sukunaâs touch, and the oppressive presence of his gaze converge, leaving you breathless and dizzy, completely trapped in his embrace.
⚯. âș âŠÂ âč . *
the next morning, you and the other servants were summoned to the kitchen by the higher-ups. as you prepared, memories of your night with sukuna kept making you smile, his words-youâre mine- echoing in your mind. sukuna wanted you, and only you.
in the large, cobblestoned kitchen, you and the servants gathered around the wooden island table where uraume had called everyone. chatter and gossip filled the room as you stood with your friends, one of them clutching your arm nervously as everyone waited for uraumeâs arrival.
the wooden doors creaked open as uraume and several guards filed in, immediately commanding attention. âgood morning, everyone,â uraume said, silencing the room.
âsukuna-sama has been keeping an eye on a few of you while you worked,â uraume continued, causing a collective gulp of fear to ripple through the room. whispers of suspicion and dread filled the air, as many feared sukunaâs scrutiny meant trouble.
âand he is beyond pleased with one of your skills,â uraume added, and the room erupted in gasps and murmurs of relief. you heard whispers behind youâcould it be me? it has to be me.
you couldnât help but chuckle at their eagerness. most of the servants slacked off when uraume or sukunaâs subordinates werenât around, but you always made sure to be diligent. you werenât trying to be a suck-up; you were just keenly aware of the consequences of falling out of favor. after all, many had met grim fates.
was this about me? had the king of curses been watching? you think.
uraume walked closer to your side of the room, maintaining their usual emotionless demeanor. a few of the other servants' smiles faltered as uraume pushed through the crowd, making a beeline for you. their eyes were filled with a mix of envy and disbelief, and you straightened your posture with a slight bow, a wide, hopeful smile spreading across your face.
âiâm very thankful for thisââ
âmove.â
you choked on your saliva, your face flushing with embarrassment as you froze, head down. the realization that you were not the one being recognized hit hard as uraume moved past you to the girl in the back. murmurs and chuckles spread through the room, and you could feel your cheeks burning with shame.
i just want to disappear.
uraume pulled one of the servants deemed âskilledâ to the front of the room. you slowly raised your head to see yorozu, standing there with a beaming smile, clearly thrilled.
âsukuna-sama is beyond satisfied with your skills and dedication,â uraume announced. âhe has requested a personal dinner with yorozu.â
what?
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