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theonottsbxtch · 3 hours ago

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I LOVED YOU FIRST | FC43

an: guys i’m so sorry for the atrocities i’m about to cause by posting this, i’m especially tagging @obxstiles to make sure they don’t miss it and that they cry muahaha there MAY be a part two to this

summary: for as long as she’s remembered she’s loved franco, wether those feelings were ever reciprocated she doesn’t know.

wc: 4.4k

She remembered the sound of wheels against gravel. Even as a kid, Franco was fast—kicking up dust and stones as he went, all edges and adrenaline. They grew up on the same street, a road that was more dust than pavement, cutting through a small town nobody had ever heard of, deep in the countryside of Argentina. Back then, he raced down that road on a beat-up go-kart that rattled and threatened to fall apart with every turn. But he didn’t care. Even at eight years old, Franco could talk of nothing but cars and speed and the shimmering, impossible promise of a life far from here.

She was the one who stood at the end of the road, cheering him on as he came barreling toward her, heart in her throat every time he cut it too close. She told herself that’s just what friends did—waited around to see the other one make it back in one piece. But there was more to it, even then. She’d never told him, of course. Franco had always been too focused on the next race, the next finish line, to notice much about her that wasn’t familiar. It was easier that way. They were friends. That was enough.

Years passed, and with them, his childhood kart became a racing simulator, then an actual car, then a series of wins that only proved what she’d always known—that Franco was going somewhere.

Last year, his parents sold their house so he could go further, could reach another level she couldn’t quite see. He moved in with her and her family when he wasn’t racing, and for a few months, it was as if they were kids again, laughing late at night, plotting his future as he spilled out every dream he’d ever had. That was the year she started imagining he might finally see her the way she saw him.

But he didn’t.

Instead, Franco saw everything she wasn’t: the girl from another world, polished and magnetic, with a face and laugh that gleamed like the trophies he’d already started to collect. She caught him, snared him in a way that didn’t even seem real.

It was this girl—her name slipped off his tongue so easily when he let it—who went to the big events with him, who stood beside him when photographers crowded around after his races, a reminder that he’d already begun to belong somewhere else. She wanted to hate her, this stranger who was everything she wasn’t, but what good would it do?

It was easy to tell herself she was Franco’s friend. His best friend. The one who’d been there since the beginning, the one who stayed up with him on those late nights when all his dreams felt heavy enough to drown him. She’d learned to wear it like armour—the friend, the constant, the steady hand on his shoulder when his voice cracked and his confidence faltered.

No one else knew the small things about him, the things that made him human. Like how he had a superstition about not putting on his helmet until the very last second before a race. Or that his favorite thing in the world was the sound of tires on wet pavement, a soft hiss of rain and speed. Or that he used to dream of buying back the house his parents sold and giving them something better.

The nights she couldn’t sleep, she’d replay those memories to herself, like scenes from a film she’d seen too many times. They were pieces of a person she’d built up in her mind so completely, so painstakingly, that she sometimes forgot he wasn’t hers. Not really.

Now, Franco was leaving again, but this time it was different. The call had come last night, and she’d been there when he answered it, watching the way his face shifted, lit up with something she hadn’t seen since they were kids. He’d been invited to join a Formula 1 team—a chance to race against the best, a dream finally realised.

And she’d been the first person he told. “I’m in,” Franco had whispered to her after he hung up, his voice hoarse with disbelief. “I’m actually in.”

He’d pulled her into a hug, and for a fleeting moment, she let herself believe this moment was for her too—that she was a part of the dream. But when he finally let go, she could already feel him slipping away, his mind racing miles ahead, far beyond anything she could reach.

And now here they were, standing on the same dusty road they’d grown up on, only this time the road was empty. She could almost see his silhouette against the horizon, an outline that belonged to no one, not even her.

“So… this is it, huh?” she murmured, trying to keep her voice steady, her hands stuffed deep into her jacket pockets. She knew this was her job now: to be strong, supportive, even as she felt her chest tightening with everything she’d left unsaid.

Franco glanced over at her and smiled, that careless, easy grin she’d fallen in love with a thousand times. “Yeah. This is it.”

There was a part of her that wanted to say something, to tell him what it felt like to lose him, to have spent all these years beside him only to watch him walk away. But she didn’t, couldn’t. Because he needed her to be his friend, his rock. And that’s exactly what she would be, until the moment he disappeared from sight.

“You’ll be amazing out there,” she said softly, swallowing hard against the ache in her throat.

“Thanks,” Franco replied, his gaze drifting to the horizon, to whatever was waiting for him. He didn’t see her watching him, didn’t notice the way she tried to memorise every detail of his face, the way she gripped the fabric of her jacket so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Because that’s what she was: the person who stayed behind, the person who would cheer for him no matter how far he went, even if it took him far beyond her reach.

His first race was in Monza.

And Franco had made sure she’d be there.

The roar of engines echoed across Monza, the air thick with the metallic scent of fuel and adrenaline. She stood just outside the paddock, watching the mechanics scurry between cars, drivers in their fireproof suits weaving through a sea of engineers and cameras. It was Franco’s first Formula 1 race, the one he’d been chasing since the days they’d spent on that dusty street back home. He’d called her a week ago, saying he’d arranged for her ticket, that she had to be there, that it wouldn’t feel right without her.

She glanced down at her pass, fumbling with it between her fingers, her eyes darting over the crowds, wondering if she’d see him. But instead, she saw her—Franco’s girlfriend, standing just a few paces away, a beacon in the busy paddock with her polished, perfect smile.

She thought about turning around, slipping into the crowd where she could cheer Franco on from a distance, as she’d always done. But then Franco’s girlfriend caught her eye, waved her over with an easy, welcoming smile, and suddenly it was too late.

“Hi! You’re Franco’s best friend, no?” she said brightly, as if she’d been waiting for this meeting. “Franco’s told me all about you.”

She managed a smile, trying not to let her surprise show. “Nice to meet you,” she replied, her voice steady but her heart churning. This girl looked so effortlessly perfect—too perfect, really. She wanted to find something in her to resent, a crack, a flaw, some hint that would make her presence easier to bear. But the girl’s smile was warm, even gentle, and there wasn’t a hint of cruelty behind her eyes.

“You know,” she continued, turning to look at the track where the cars were being readied. “Franco always talks about how you’ve been there from the start. He says he wouldn’t be here without you.”

It was a sentiment she’d waited years to hear, but hearing it now, coming from someone else, made it feel empty, hollow. She nodded politely. “He’s worked so hard for this. I just… wanted to support him however I could.”

The girl looked at her, a spark of admiration in her eyes. “That’s really special. I think it means a lot to him, having someone who’s known him for so long.” She hesitated, her fingers twisting a ring on her hand. “I think he’s planning to introduce me to his family soon.”

A prickle of something sharp and painful settled in her chest. She managed to keep her face composed, even as the words sank in. “That’s great,” she said, injecting her voice with encouragement. “That sounds really important to him.”

The girl smiled, her gaze drifting as if she could see the future taking shape right in front of her. “Yeah… he said he wanted to wait until we’d been together for a year. He’s so thoughtful like that, you know? He really wants things to be right before introducing me to his family.” She looked at her, a touch of gratitude in her expression. “I think he got that from you—from seeing how much his family means to you.”

It was a kind thing to say, too kind. She wanted to hate her for it, but she couldn’t. There was nothing false about the way this girl looked at her, no jealousy or possessiveness. She was just… nice. The kind of nice that made her ache with the unfairness of it all, because it made it impossible to hate her, even though she desperately wanted to.

“Well, his family will love you,” she said, meaning it even as the words felt like they were tearing something fragile inside her. “He deserves to be happy.”

The girl gave her a soft, almost sympathetic smile, a smile that made her wonder if maybe she already knew—if she could see right through her, if she understood the look in her eyes, the one she tried so hard to hide.

As the engines started up in the distance, the girl reached out and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “Thank you,” she said, her voice warm. “For being there for him, for being his friend. I can tell he’s lucky to have you in his life.”

She returned the smile, feeling a heaviness settle deep within her. Franco was lucky, that was true—but not in the way she’d once dreamed he might be. He had everything now: the career, the future, the love of a woman who deserved him in ways she never could.

And as the cars roared to life on the track, she stood there beside his girlfriend, feeling like a silent ghost on the edges of his new world. She would cheer for him, just as she always had, but now she knew exactly where she stood—at a distance, a quiet fixture in his past, cheering him on from the shadows as he sped toward a future that had no place for her.

The race had ended hours ago, and the hotel was hushed, the lights dimmed in the halls. She was alone in her room, her suitcase half-packed, clothes folded neatly on the bed. She’d changed her flight back to Argentina; she would be gone by morning.

The evening had been a whirlwind—Franco finishing in P12 on his debut race, his crew and his girlfriend embracing him, his face beaming in a way she’d only ever dreamed of seeing up close. She’d stood in the background, clapping politely, just another face in the crowd, happy for him but feeling her heart splinter with each cheer.

A quiet knock broke her thoughts. She looked up, heart catching in her throat. Franco was standing in the doorway, his face lit with a warm smile.

“Hey,” he said, stepping inside, his hands in his pockets. “I was hoping you’d still be up.”

“Yeah, just… packing,” she murmured, glancing at the clothes on her bed. “I’ve got an early flight back.”

He frowned, like he hadn’t expected her to be leaving so soon. “I thought you’d stay a bit longer,” he said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. “It meant a lot to me that you were here, you know. I’m not sure I could have done it without you.”

She swallowed, trying to muster up a smile. “I’m proud of you, Fran. Really. You deserve all of this.”

He gave a modest shrug, his usual humility shining through. “It’s crazy, right? Like, it still doesn’t feel real.”

She nodded, unsure of what to say next, her hands clenching as she watched him, the words fighting to break free. But before she could speak, he went on, his face lighting up with excitement.

“Oh—and I wanted to tell you. Over the summer break, I’m planning to bring my girlfriend—” he gestured to the wall, where his girlfriend was probably just sitting in their shared room—“back to Argentina. She’s going to meet my family. I think they’ll love her.”

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. She felt herself unraveling, her heart breaking open. She couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“Why her?” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Franco blinked, looking at her, startled. “What do you mean?”

“Why her, Franco?” She repeated, her voice trembling, louder this time. “Why not me? What is it about me that you don’t find appealing? Am I too loud? Too… different? Do I not fit into your world somehow?” Her voice cracked, the weight of her words finally spilling out. “What is it about me that you don’t love, that you love about her?”

For a moment, he just stared, taken aback, as if he was seeing her for the first time, really seeing her. But his eyes were filled with confusion, like he was trying to make sense of what she was saying.

“Wait—” he started, his voice halting, uncertain. “I… I didn’t know you felt—”

She cut him off, her voice fierce, raw. “I loved you first, Franco.”

He went silent, the words settling between them like stones in water, sinking deeper and deeper.

“What?” he whispered, his voice almost as quiet as hers had been.

“I loved you first,” she repeated, her voice shaking. She could feel the tears gathering, but she didn’t want to cry, not now, not here. “Since we were kids, since you were that crazy kid racing down dirt roads, I loved you. I’ve been there every step, every race, every victory, every failure. I was the one who held your dreams when they felt too heavy to carry. I loved you first.”

She watched him, waiting, hoping for some sign of understanding, some glimmer of the love she’d imagined so many times. But his eyes were wide with shock, his face torn between pity and discomfort.

He shook his head slowly, the words seeming to catch in his throat before he finally managed to say them. “But… I love her.”

The words were a knife, sharp and relentless, cutting through the last fragments of hope she’d held on to.

She let out a hollow, broken laugh, her vision blurring as she looked away, unable to meet his eyes. “I know,” she whispered. “I know you do.” She took a shaky breath, her voice trembling with a rawness she couldn’t contain. “But it doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

For a moment, they stood there in silence, the weight of years pressing down between them. She could see the guilt etched into his expression, his mouth opening as if he wanted to say something to make it better. But there was nothing he could say—nothing that could change the reality that he had chosen someone else, someone who wasn’t her.

“I never meant to… I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said softly, reaching out as if to comfort her, but she stepped back, her arms wrapping around herself protectively.

“It’s fine,” she said, forcing the words out, feeling them scrape against her throat. “I… I just needed you to know. I needed you to know that I was here, that I’ve always been here. But now…” She trailed off, her voice breaking, the words she’d held for so long finally running dry.

She looked at him one last time, memorising the shape of his face, the boy she had loved and lost long before he ever realised. Then sat back down on the floor and continued packing, folding each piece of clothing and putting it away in silence, each one a silent goodbye.

When she noticed he still hadn’t left, that he was just watching him, she looked up at him. “I hope she makes you happy, Franco,” she whispered, her voice barely a breath. “Really. I hope she gives you everything you’ve ever dreamed of.”

She looked back down not wanting to catch Franco’s look of pity and closed her suitcase as he walked out of her room.

Walking out of her life for what felt like forever.

It was the peak of summer, the air heavy with heat and the scents of wildflowers and sun-baked earth drifting through the open kitchen window. She was sitting at the table, picking absently at a bowl of sliced fruit, half-listening as her mother hummed while tidying up, when her mother paused and gave her a look she couldn’t quite decipher.

“I almost forgot to mention,” her mother said, wiping her hands on a towel, “Franco’s coming back to town soon. Said he’ll be here next week with his girlfriend, so they can meet his family.”

She looked down, letting the words sink in, feeling a familiar tightness bloom in her chest. She hadn’t spoken to Franco in weeks. Not since that night in Monza. Not since she’d finally let herself say all the things she’d bottled up for years, only to walk away feeling like she’d left a part of herself behind.

“Oh,” she murmured, keeping her tone as light as she could. “That’s… that’s good. His parents will be thrilled to meet her.”

Her mother looked at her carefully, her gaze soft but probing, as if she could sense the ache that lingered beneath her daughter’s casual words. “I thought maybe you’d be excited too,” her mother ventured, her voice gentle. “It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him.”

She forced a small smile, looking down at her hands as she fiddled with her napkin. “Actually, I was thinking about going to Buenos Aires for a bit. Just a week or two with Tía Blanca. I’ve been meaning to go see her.”

Her mother tilted her head, her expression somewhere between sympathy and exasperation. “You can’t keep running from this, mi amor,” she said, her voice tender but firm.

Her shoulders tensed, and for a moment, she didn’t know what to say. She knew her mother was right; every time she thought about seeing Franco, the old wound seemed to ache again, still raw, still fresh, no matter how many miles or weeks lay between them. But she wasn’t ready to face him yet. Not when the sight of him with someone else would only reopen everything she’d been trying so hard to let go of.

“I know I can’t keep running,” she said finally, her voice barely a whisper, her fingers twisting the napkin in her lap. “But I can now. And I can cope with that.”

Her mother sighed softly, reaching out to place a warm hand over hers. “Mi amor, one day, you’re going to have to stop protecting yourself from the things that hurt you. It’s the only way to truly move forward.”

She nodded, her throat tight, unable to meet her mother’s eyes. She knew her mother was right. But all she could think of was that moment in Monza, the echo of Franco’s words—But I love her. Words that still stung like salt on an open wound, even now.

“Maybe one day,” she whispered, more to herself than to her mother. But for now, Buenos Aires felt like the safest place to be—far from the memories, far from the impossible hope she still carried in her heart.

Her mother squeezed her hand gently before letting go, her silence filled with understanding. “Then go,” she said, with a small, knowing smile. “But you’ll know when it’s time to come home.”

And as she sat there, her heart heavy with everything she couldn’t say, she only hoped her mother was right.

A few days later, everything was sorted and she was ready to go to her aunt’s place.

She swung her bag over her shoulder, taking a deep breath as she stepped out of the house, the warm morning sun casting long shadows across the familiar dirt road. She was just two steps away from the car when she spotted it—Franco’s car, parked at the edge of the drive.

Her heart lurched, her mind scrambling, and she muttered under her breath, “No, no, no… please, not now.” She moved quickly toward her own car, fumbling for her keys as if speed alone could make her invisible. But before she could open the door, she heard his voice behind her.

“Oye, there you are!” he called, a wide, relieved smile on his face as he jogged over, his voice bright with the kind of joy she hadn’t heard from him in years. “I was hoping I’d run into you before you left. It’s been too long.”

She barely managed to keep her face neutral, clutching her bag as if it could shield her. “Yeah, well, I’ve got to get on the road. Don’t want to get stuck in traffic,” she said, opening the boot to toss her bag inside. She avoided looking at him, focusing on the small tasks—closing the boot, brushing off her hands, reaching for the door.

He took a step closer, his hand resting on the car door as if to keep her from leaving. “I’ve missed you,” he said, his tone softening. “You… you didn’t answer my calls after Monza. I didn’t know if… I just wanted to see you.”

She swallowed hard, glancing away as she forced herself to stay calm, the last words she wanted to hear sitting heavy between them. “That’s great, Franco,” she said, barely meeting his gaze, her words quick and mechanical. “But I really should get going.”

“Wait—” He looked at her, his expression slipping from surprise to concern. “Can we talk? Please?”

But she was already climbing into the car, her hands gripping the steering wheel as she turned the ignition. She couldn’t bear to stay, couldn’t bear to let him see her break again. “Take care, Franco,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she closed the door.

Before he could say another word, she pulled out, the tires kicking up dust as she drove away. In the rearview mirror, she saw him standing in the drive, watching her go, his face a mix of confusion and something close to sadness. She looked away, swallowing the lump in her throat as she focused on the road ahead.

But the further she drove, the harder it became to ignore the weight of all the memories tied to each familiar street and turn. Every signpost, every curve of the road reminded her of him—their childhood spent racing bikes and kicking up dust, lazy afternoons wandering these streets, dreaming of the future he was now living.

Tears blurred her vision as she drove, the memories rushing in like floodwaters, filling her mind with images she’d tried so hard to push aside: Franco at fourteen, laughing as he beat her in yet another race down the hill; Franco, younger still, sharing a quiet moment in the field just beyond town, his eyes bright with the dreams they’d both carried.

She wiped at her eyes, her heart aching as each memory pulled her further into the past, a past where they’d been inseparable, a past where she hadn’t yet realised what loving him truly meant. She could almost hear his laughter, feel his presence beside her, as if he were still the boy she’d known, before life had pulled them down different paths.

By the time she reached her aunt’s building in Buenos Aires, the weight of the drive had started to lift, the city’s pulse a welcome distraction from the quiet countryside. She parked and took a moment to gather herself, feeling the ache from earlier settle into something softer, something that no longer felt as urgent or raw.

Just as she opened the car door, a familiar voice called out.

“¡Mira! Is that really you?”

She looked up, startled, and felt her heart lift slightly. Standing by the curb was Angelo, an old friend from summers in the city. He had the same easy smile, his hair a little longer, his build a little broader, but his presence felt exactly as she remembered—warm and solid.

“Angelo!” She smiled, the weight on her shoulders easing just a little more.

He walked over, giving her a friendly hug before reaching into the car to help with her bag. “Let me help. You’re here for a visit?”

“Just two weeks,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady as she glanced up at the familiar apartment building, a place that held a lifetime of summers, laughter, and memories untouched by the pain she’d left behind.

“Well, then,” he said, grinning as he hefted her bag easily, “we’ve got time to catch up.” His tone was light, but there was something else in his eyes, a quiet warmth that made her feel unexpectedly hopeful.

She followed him up the steps, comforted by his familiarity and the steady, unhurried way he moved, like he knew every corner of this building as well as she did. As they reached her aunt’s door, she felt her pulse slow, steadied by his presence.

The door opened before they could knock, her aunt’s familiar face breaking into a radiant smile. “There you are, mi niña!” She hugged her tightly, then turned to Angelo with a knowing smile. “And look who brought you all the way to the door! Angelo, you’re a sweetheart.”

He grinned, shrugging. “Anything for your family, señora.”

They all laughed, and for the first time in months, she felt a genuine ease settle over her, as if she’d left more than just a town behind—she’d left the weight of everything she’d been carrying.

As she glanced between her aunt and Angelo, the ache that had gripped her chest all day faded. The streets of Buenos Aires were bright outside the door, warm and humming with life. She breathed it in, feeling herself begin to let go of everything that had haunted her on that long drive.

Because maybe now that she was here, she could forget Franco.

to be continued…?

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garciaasfluffypen · 2 days ago

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take care of me (like i take care of you) pt. 3

pairing: jemily x reader word count: 2.4k warnings: SURPRISE i finished part three and wanted to post it so i could get this cross posted to ao3 hehe. its time to talk(tm) about everything that happened! y/n's rejection sensitive dysphoria episode is a prominent aspect of this part. poor emily doesn't really know what to do except comfort her girlfriends, jj has some issues she's working through, y/n feels absolutely horrible about everything that conspired

after everything that had happened in the past two hours, you were drained. you barely made it to the bedroom before bursting out into tears. this was it. this was the big kablooey. jj hated you now, there was no doubt about it. considering the way she reacted when you had let the term slip past your lips… you never should have done it. you pushed too hard, and this was the end. you’d have to change your name and move to timbuktu so nobody could find you ever again and you’d never be able to embarrass yourself in front of jj and emily anymore. the harsh what did you just call me? reverberated through your mind as you let the sobs take over your body, practically doubling over with the sheer force of guilt. you couldn’t believe yourself. how could you let it get that bad? it hadn’t even been three months and you already fucked up. but that was just it, wasn’t it? the three month curse you were stuck with. nothing romantic ever lasted past three months. it was only time that this one ended, giving you a chance to reset and find something new. your exes were right, you were never good enough. you always did something wrong. it was bound to happen sooner rather than later, and you needed to expect the worst.

peeling off the clothes you had worn to the zoo, you blindly felt in what had been dubbed your drawer for your jammies. you had gotten the shirt from an online store and it was the perfect shirt for when you were having bad days or sensory overloads. and a bonus, it was long enough to cover your butt and go halfway down your thighs. you had gotten it big on purpose, and you were glad you did. once you felt the fabric, you pulled it on and stumbled back to the bed, grabbing a pillow and holding it close to your chest as you continued to try and calm yourself down. logically, you knew you were over reacting, but the fact you were tired mixed with the immense guilt you felt for making jj feel bad… everything piled up and you found yourself trying not to spiral more than you already had.

the door opened and a figure stood there for a second before coming over and pulling you into the biggest hug they could muster. after a second, the scent of emily flew through your senses and slowly but surely you started to calm down as you curled into her arms.

“oh, lovey…”

this was one of the downsides to how bad your adhd and rejection sensitive dysphoria was- when you cried, you cried hard. you had gotten good at bottling up your feelings into a little corner of your mind that barely got touched unless you had a whole weekend carved out to mope around. those weekends were far and few between these days, seeing as the budget increase the bau got gave them more opportunities to take cases. it wasn’t too bad, until this happened and you cried so hard you felt like you might throw up.

you curled into emily’s chest, barely registering the door opening. a red eyed jj stood in the doorframe, hands wringing together as she looked for you. jj looked worse for wear, emily noted. the last time she had seen jj like this was when they were at the fertility doctor earlier in the year, when they talked about the possibility of emily carrying a viable pregnancy. but that wasn’t anything they could talk about right now. the puffiness around her eyes was evident, tear marks showing where she had piled on concealer earlier that morning. she sniffled, gaining your attention. your head perked up and you felt your heart drop when you saw how upset jj was. wordlessly, you shifted on the bed to make room for jj, letting her crawl in, curling herself up between the gap you had created. she wrapped her arms around you, squeezing you tight as she could as a single tear fell down her face. you wiped it away with the pad of your thumb, shooting her a small smile.

“i’m sorry i reacted that way, baby.”

her words were muffled into the palm of your hand, her breath dancing across your skin as you put your cheek on top of your head. your logical thinking skills slowly started to poke through the barriers your rejection sensitive dysphoria always put up during these moments, the realization that it also upset jj hitting you like a ton of bricks. you hated seeing her so upset, especially when you knew you caused some of the upset. granted, everything was still so new and you all were getting used to the idea of the three of you being together, but it still hurt you more than you could ever put into words.

“no, it’s my fault.” you started. “i pushed you too hard. i should have asked before assuming i could just call you mommy and get away with it. do you…?” you trailed off, hoping that jj knew what you were trying to ask.

“i’m not sure how i feel about the use of mommy.” jj said, quieter than normal. “it didn’t make me feel… i didn’t like it.”

emily raised her eyebrow, slightly shocked that jj didn’t give you the full truth. while she knew what seemingly the true reason jj didn’t like being called mommy, she knew that it would be something she revealed to you in due time. hell, jj was still figuring it out herself. the dislike of the feminine terms was something that had started within the past year and a half. yes, jj was very feminine presenting and loved dressing up when given the opportunity, yet she had begun to start hating when she was perceived in a feminine matter. it was an interesting late life dilemma to have, and she wasn’t sure how to go about it. she had been so secure in her identity for years, and to start questioning everything? it had started to send jj into a spiral of thoughts she frankly wasn’t ready to think about yet.

the only other person who knew about her dilemma was tara. it had come out one night while the two were having wine after a long case and emily was stuck at the office filling out more paperwork than intended due to her having shot the unsub. the two of them were a bottle and a half deep into pinot gritiot, and jj had blurted out “do you ever just… not want to feel like a girl?” and now here they were, with emily being the second person to know that jj had started to despise the feminine terms of endearment she had been taught to love growing up. it scared her. but not as much as the thought of you thinking you lost her.

“emmy?” you looked to emily. “do you like being called mommy? because for some reason it felt very natural and i don’t know why.”

“we can toy around with it.” emily squeezed your hand. “thank you for asking.”

“i’m sorry i was super bratty earlier, too. i let it go too far.”

“i thought it was hot, actually,” jj started to blush. “i do think we need to play around with different dynamics and what we’re okay and not okay with. nothing has to be set in stone, but if i’m being honest… it was…”

“i liked it when you got all controlling.” you finished jj’s thought. “i really did.”

“would you want to play around with that more? me being more… in charge sometimes?”

you nodded. “i’d like that. because i like listening to emmy but…”

“it’s very easy for you to listen to me, i know.” emily smirked. “and it’s very endearing.”

“is that something you’re okay with?” you looked over to emily.

“if you’re comfortable with it, then yes.”

“color system applies to everything we try.” jj stated. “any time, you can tell us to stop and we will. or call yellow and we can talk it out. and it applies to you, too. if there’s anything that we don’t like, we’ll tell you.”

you nodded. “is there anything else that i’ve done? have i made either of you uncomfortable?”

emily couldn’t help but clock the nervous look in your eye, seeing the fidgeting start in her peripheral vision. it was sad for her, seeing you like this. she hated when you got sad. you felt certain emotions more than others, and when you did feel them they hit you like a ton of bricks. emily most likely would never know how that truly felt, but she could only imagine the thoughts flowing around in your mind that would make you feel less than. she couldn’t control herself, searching your eyes for any emotion other than guilt. it pained you knowing that you thought you were the reason the conversation was happening. she wanted to grab you by the shoulders and scream at you that it was not your fault and would most likely never be your fault, but she knew that would be counter productive. the three of you were all adults, you could talk about it like adults.

jj on the other hand, felt horrible. her reaction was the reason you felt as if you were the reason the problem persisted. guilt plagued her as she stared at you, her hand coming up to gently brush back some of the strands that had fallen from your braid. she knew her own insecurities were the reason everything was going the way it was, and the main reason the three of you were sat here in various stages of emotional distress, but it was something she knew taking the blame for would just make you feel worse. she didn’t fully understand how your brain always made you think that you were the problem, but it was something you had been fighting for years. even penelope couldn’t get it through your brain that nothing was ever your fault. and that was saying something, since you and penelope had been friends for ten years leading up to when you joined the bau. both emily and jj knew it would take a while to get past the walls you had put up, but they didn’t realize how tough it would be. but it was a fight they were going to get through together, no matter what it meant.

“nothing you’ve done could make us uncomfortable, y/n.” jj’s voice softened. “i know this is new, and it’s making you react in ways that you normally wouldn’t react, right?”

you nodded. “i’m trying to be better, promise. i guess i just want to be taken care of?” you questioned. “but i have a hard time accepting it. like… i just want someone to take care of me like i take care of you. i’m just… i’m getting used to it.”

“is that why you were pushing today?” jj looked at you. “because you wanted to feel taken care of?”

you sheepishly nodded. “a little bit. i liked it when you told me we were leaving and got all bossy.”

jj smiled. “i can do that more. do you want to have a certain phrase or word to let me know when you want it?”

“um… maybe like… a shoulder tap to start? i don’t want to say anything out loud, especially if it happens in front of the team.”

“how about three taps left shoulder?” you nodded, a small smile forming on your face. “and if there’s anything we do when we’re out that you don’t like?”

“i’m not sure of that one yet.” you swallowed. “i’m sorry we didn’t have this conversation earlier. we could have avoided this.”

“lovey, having these conversations is one of the things we need to do to ensure we’re all happy. we can’t necessarily schedule them.”

“i still feel guilty." you sniffled. “i made jj feel bad.”

“oh baby,” jj pulled you back closer to her as the guilt washed over you again. “i’m not mad at you at all. if anything, i over reacted to that. i promise you i’m not mad. i’m not mad at all.”

“you promise?”

“i promise.” jj placed a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. “i’m sorry i made you feel like you hurt me.”

“i’m sorry i didn’t ask you if i could call you mommy and made you upset.” you looked down at your hands, which were fidgeting with your shirt.

jj lifted your chin up with her finger. “hey hey, none of that now. no more feeling bad.”

you chuckled. “okay. i’ll try.”

“how about i draw us a bath?” emily smiled at the two of you. “with the epsom salt for your sore muscles?”

“that sounds really nice.” you smiled. “can we light the candle i like too?”

“vanilla swirl or the one that smells like disney?”

you pursed your lips, thinking. “the one that smells like disney.”

“i’ll go grab it.” emily placed a kiss to the top of your head. “you feeling better?”

“a little bit.” you nodded. “i’ll be better soon.”

“good.” she squeezed your hand. “i’ll go get everything and let you know when the bath is ready.”

emily slipped out of the bed and went to go get your candle, leaving you and jj sitting on the bed together. she placed her forehead against yours, her hand going to cup your cheek as you sat in the silence.

“i-”

“if you say i’m sorry i’m pushing you off this bed.”

you chuckled lightly. “i do feel bad.”

“and i’m telling you that you don’t have to. promise. every relationship is going to have it's issues. we’re just able to talk them out because we’re adults.”

“yeah, you’re right.” you put your head in the crook of jj’s shoulder. “thank you for not being mad.”

jj smiled. “thank you for listening and not freaking out when i told you i didn’t like it.”

“i mean i freaked out a little bit.”

“but not a lot.” jj chuckled. “you’re adorable.”

“you are too. like, a lot.”

you snuggled into jj’s arms, curling into her side. it made you feel a lot better knowing that she wasn’t super mad at you like you thought. while you still felt guilty for making her feel bad, it made you feel better knowing that jj didn’t think of you any differently.

and that she still deeply cared about you.

taglist: @jayden-prentiss @idkwhatever580 @multifandomlesbianic @softestqueeen

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my5hiningstars · 5 months ago

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#i know i won't shut up abt 5sos but the real question is will i ever go to a better gig than darren criss in [redacted] 2023 #like i didn't even know half his songs before i went and i still had the best time i've ever had at a gig #literally the energy in that room was insane #and like... better than any gig i've ever been to in melbourne like #smth about being in a smaller place that artists don't often come to Especially not internation acts #everyone was so like... polite?#like they were doing concert so well they weren't being assholes and yelling when it wasn't their turn :')#which is so annoying i hate when a crowd is so roudy that it feels like a classroom and the teacher is waiting for everyone to shut up #like we can still have a good time if u respect the fact that some of us are spending hundreds even just Getting here #idk maybe i'm a music snob i just think there's something so magical in a quiet room full of people #like when something really beautiful has happened you can sit in it for a second #the pressure to cheer like... the idea that a moment of silence will somehow offend the artist who created the moment #i tried to find another concert on the tour where the crowd was as in the moment as we were for the line #'i believe there is music in the silence' and then he like #puts the guitar down and heads to the piano to do the rest #but it was so gorgeously quiet it was breathtaking i cried #it might have helped that he played the first half entirely accoustically no mic no amps #bc the venue was small enough and also designed to amplify naturally #but we all had to be so quiet to make sure everyone heard it so it just #the music hung in the air so magically y'all art is so good i'm still crying nothing will ever beat that concert i'm still chasing that hig #luke was nearly that magical but tbh..... the audience kinda ruined it for me at times :/#also he was nervous and kept cutting off the moment by saying 'thank you' like we get it ur a humble king but like #you have to let a song like place in me Breathe when it's done #you have to give the crowd a chance to go holy fucking shit what the fuck and THEN start screaming and Then thank them #but i'm truly such a snob it's the worst #honestly thinking abt how those lads are always improving tho he'll get there #by the time he's darren criss' age he'll be killing it even more they all will

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chuluoyi · 4 months ago

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𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄 !

- gojo satoru x reader // zen'in naoya x reader

the path of love is never easy for you, be it now or back then. love, pain, betrayal and tragedy — you have been through them all. after all is said and done, you just want one chance at happiness. so will your second marriage be what you always want it to be, or will it be one last heartbreak you have to go through?

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—might be ooc, angst, hurt/comfort, a lot of fluff, marriage of convenience, explicit smut (semi-public sex), pregnancy, childbirth, mentions of curses

note: loosely inspired by and taking some elements of manhwa remarried empress. this is the final part of remarried empress au trilogy! wc. 9.4k ! i'm so happy with how well-received this little series is :') thank you so, so much for reading!

credit header goes to @/poro06625649 in twitter!

prev. all hail the empress | the crown of diamonds

general masterlist | series masterlist

“Satoru...”

Once, to you, love meant complete acceptance. To be able to accept someone so wholly, unquestionably, as they are.

Until you excelled in everything, a stone throw away from perfection even, and Naoya still spurned you.

When you married Satoru out of sheer impulse just to preserve your standing, you thought you had found that kind of love at last. Until it became clear a part of him wanted something else, and you couldn't accept that.

At the same time, you also felt like a hypocrite, because you wanted that love for you, and yet you couldn't give the same to him and even doubted him altogether. Using each other, you had even said.

But right at this moment... none of that mattered anymore.

Not when Satoru forcefully hurled Suguru aside, fought his way through the searing heat, tearing away debris after debris, punching through the remnants of the collapsing pagoda, all while dreadfully screaming your name.

“Where are you!? Gods, answer me!” He looked like a desperate madman. He was hyperventilating, bloodied, and yet he kept violently flinging the debris, determined to find you.

That sight of him struck you straight in the heart. He could've obliterated the whole tower with his ability if he wanted to, but he didn't. Doing so would seal your fate entirely.

He yelled your name once again, pouring his anguish and frustration into the air that his voice grew hoarse. “Where are you!”

If this isn't love, you thought almost tearfully. Then what is?

“Satoru!” and so you forced yourself to walk, despite being on the verge of collapse. Seeing him like this tore your heart to shreds. “Satoru!”

He stopped abruptly, his chest still heaving violently before turning to you. At first, he thought it was the voice inside his head. Everything around him was a chaotic blur, so when he turned to find you standing there, miraculously unharmed, he was stunned.

A shuddering breath escaped him as he gazed at you, the blue in his eyes filled with so much fright you had never seen before. "Y/N...?"

You staggered on your feet, your dress appearing singed at the edges—but you were there, alive.

"What are you doing!?" you admonished, almost in tears. "Why do you hurt yourself like that!?"

Suddenly, it was hard to breathe, but he didn't hesitate. He flung the splinter in his hand away and sprinted towards you, roughly pulling you into his arms.

"—!" he rasped, almost gasping for air, while squeezing the back of your head closer. "Heavens, I thought... I thought you were—!"

Satoru was trembling so badly in your embrace, unable to utter another word as he buried his face in your shoulder. He was beyond shaken—grunting, taking sharp breaths, and holding you so tightly that it left you at a loss of words.

He only pulled back once, albeit shakily, to have a good look of your face. There was one bruise on your cheek and you were covered in soot.

But you were still the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

"I'm fine..." you tried reassuring him, lips wobbling, placing a hand on his palm that touched your face. "I'm fine now..."

Then Satoru pulled you close again, and you came willingly. Simply holding you, he inhaled the scent of the roses mixed with ash in your hair, feeling your breath on his neck.

To see this man, usually so self-assured, reduced to such a mess out of fear for you touched you deeply. You nestled closer to him, feeling a sense of peace wash over you.

In that moment, as you two clung to each other, nothing else matters.

"You've always coveted what I have..."

The ice in your eyes and the chill in your words felt like a curse. Hanabi was beside herself every day ever since she had left Western Empire. No way, she even saw you in her dreams!

Granted, her impulsiveness had almost cost her everything. She shouldn't have placed that curse on the necklace— she shouldn't have dared to attempt it in the first place.

But seeing that piece that had tied you two together—the testament to Naoya's remaining affection for you, however small it was—made Hanabi burn with jealousy. Why did he remember you still? Hadn't he dethroned you and chosen her?

Also, why did you put it as if she had been trying to take all that you had? She was now a royal consort, she was just demanding what she was due!

"...and sooner or later, that will be your downfall."

Hanabi shivered as an intense chill seemed to enter her body, spreading rapidly to her limbs and brain, immobilizing her. What is it? Why are your words struck her to the core?

"My lady, are you alright?" her attendant walked up to her as she clutched her chest.

"I-I..." Hanabi faltered, trying to even her breath. "I'm not feeling that well..."

"Shall I get the physician? You do look pale..."

"Please do."

Damn you. The more she thought about it, the angrier she became. You must've cursed her, that must be it! Why else did she keep hearing your voice?

"Sending you back to Naoya is a punishment in itself—you know that by now."

No, she had come this far. Even if she couldn't have Naoya's favor, even if she couldn't become the empress... she would fight tooth and nail to remain a consort.

After all, all her life, she was meant for this.

. . .

And true to her conviction... once again, fortune favors the bold.

"My lady, congratulations! You're with child!"

Hanabi blinked at the cheerful royal physician as he delivered the news. "R-really? Are you... sure?"

"Certainly! Oh, this is great news! The emperor will surely be delighted by this news!"

For a full minute, Hanabi sat there, stunned in amazement. She had really done it, and if it was a boy this time, then...

"Aha..." she burst into a small titter then, before breaking into a full-blown laugh. "Ahahaha!"

You're wrong, Empress Y/N. This time, I will show you.

"Congratulations, my lady!" the ladies around her gathered, showering her with praises. And Hanabi knew that finally, her time had come.

True paradise begins in hell. And now, I've risen from that hell.

Contrary to what you told Satoru, you were, in fact, not fine.

Shoko was the one who led you out of the burning pagoda, sustaining burns herself in the process. Immediately after you found Satoru, who was frantically on the verge of losing his sanity searching for you, you collapsed in his arms.

You had inhaled a significant amount of smoke, there was a gash in your arm, and you were even bleeding due to the stress.

And therefore, you were put on bedrest for the next upcoming weeks by the royal physician's orders and by extension, Satoru's.

However, during those three weeks, Satoru never visited you even once.

. . .

"Are you sure you're well enough to be walking around already?"

After being confined to your bedchamber for what felt like forever, you decided to take a stroll in the royal gardens. Shoko was the one in charge of watching you like a hawk these days. She didn't usually follow you around—you noticed she often went out on her own—but lately, she insisted on being by your side.

"Mm-hmm, I'm perfectly well now, Shoko," you gave her a smile as you admired the blue roses in the bushes. "You don't have to keep an eye on me all the time. I'm feeling better already."

You would be lying if you said you didn't miss your husband. A part of you of course wanted Satoru to check on you, or at least, your baby. Three weeks had passed, and your belly was now rounder and heavier.

"Oh, well... That's good then..."

Shoko seemed a bit unsure, frowning even, and you had your guesses, so you decided to bite the bullet. "How is Satoru these days?"

"Eh?"

"You must've seen him. He isn't avoiding you like he does me."

"Your Majesty..." Shoko let out a long sigh, seemingly exasperated and sorry at the same time, and you knew you hit the mark with it. "He's well, don't worry too much about him."

"Is he taking enough breaks?"

"He— err, I'm not really sure about that."

"Then, next time you see him, along with my general condition, tell him that I want him to do so."

You didn't mean to make Shoko uncomfortable, and if you did, then it was most definitely not what you intended. You just wanted a way to communicate with your brooding husband, that was all.

"You absolute imbecile! This is beyond ridiculous, why are you refusing to meet your own wife and talk to her?!"

If it had been anyone other than Countess Shoko, they would have certainly been hanged for their outrageous words against the emperor.

Satoru actually felt bitter for not visiting you ever since that day of the fire. Truth to be told, he was worried sick, the terror of thinking you might have perished in the blaze still lingered with him to this day.

He wanted nothing more than to hug you and bury his face in yours. He genuinely wanted you to be well and safe, always. Preferably, if he could keep you close too.

So, why did he avoid you on purpose?

First, the utter awkwardness. Second, the very fact that you had allowed those scums from Eastern Empire to be released. He still couldn't accept it, no matter how. In his eyes, you did it out of love for Naoya.

And that, in and of itself, was like a betrayal of his heart.

"She is becoming unhappy," Shoko noted earlier, frustration evident in her tone. "And on some nights, she also experiences hip pains due to carrying your baby. You're heartless if you don't even come to look at her even once!"

But then, Satoru felt as if he'd been punched in the gut. His unborn child.

...he had left you more or less alone now, hadn't he?

In reality, you preferred the secluded comfort of your study over the royal gardens.

And yet, that beloved study Satoru gifted you on the day he married you and you became the empress of Western Empire felt constricting lately. You almost felt claustrophobic.

Maybe it was the burgundy walls, or perhaps it was the sting of bitterness in your chest that you tried to suppress so others wouldn't see. You didn't really care which though.

So, you often wandered through the gardens to enjoy the fresh air, and at times, stopping by the spot where the pagoda once stood.

Nothing. Now that was all that left. The image of a once-beautiful tower reduced to dust and the scorched earth evoked a sense of loss within you, and what made it more painful was knowing that you were the one responsible for its destruction.

But still, what hurt the most was... what had happened to the man who had trembled with fear, believing you might not have escaped the burning pagoda? Why had he spared you with nothing at all?

"Meow..."

You looked at the squirming cat in your arms, his fluffy tail tickling you. "Oh, Sugu-chan, do you want to take a walk too?"

The clear blue eyes of Satoru's pet cat looked back at you demurely before he leapt out of your arms and trotted ahead, as if leading the way.

With nothing better to occupy your time, you often played with Sugu-chan to amuse yourself these days. The cat, with its gentle disposition, frequently curled up next to you for comfort and he somehow made those days better.

"Sugu-chan, don't stray too far!" you called out, trailing closely behind him. Knowing well that you weren't well enough to chase after him should he run off, you watched to ensure he didn't disappear from sight. "Oh!"

And sigh, he did just that. Sugu-chan leapt into the bushes, prompting you to release a resigned breath before navigating through the maze-like foliage.

"Sugu-chan, where are youuu?" you drew a breath, glancing around in confusion. "If only you were calmer like your namesake..."

After navigating several corners, you turned another and spotted a fluffy white fur, and you swore to the skies that you would yank Sugu-chan by his tail if he were to wander off again, when—

"Meooow!"

"Bad, bad cat! Why did you bite me—!?"

—and there you saw your husband, crouching down as he clutched his hand, before he whipped his head to look at you—

"Satoru," you straightened your back by instinct, your heartbeat quickening.

His eyes turned blank for a second, before those blue pools regarded you with a look you couldn't really discern. "Y/N."

. . .

It was awkward silence throughout the way. You didn't even realize when you had arrived at Satoru's study.

You had wanted this unsettling atmosphere between you to end. Why couldn't both of you just be honest already? You were about to voice your thoughts when suddenly Satoru, who had his back on you, suddenly said:

"I will not have a scandal. Therefore, you will behave in a way that nothing is known against you. In return, you will retain your privileges as the empress of the Western Empire, and continue to fulfill your duties."

That? That's the first thing he said to you after those weeks sonorous silence? This stiff, faux nonsense of him pardoning you of your supposed treason?

"Is that all you have to say to me?" you blurted almost immediately, feeling your anger rising. "After everything—"

"After everything— yes." Satoru's back was still facing you, his light blue robes shifted slightly as he tucked his hands inside his pocket pants. "Despite everything, I have nothing but concern for you, Empress. And your act of treason— even if you take no offense, I still consider it a stain on my name to let a pair of criminals go free. Consider it my generosity that I decided to overlook it."

Your body felt like shaking, his strained and formal words irked you, and at the same time, pierced through your heart and tore it to pieces.

"I've told you— I can't let Megumi be condemned for a deed he hasn't committed," you stated firmly, staring hard at his back as if you could bore a hole through him. "He is a kind boy, he used to be my ward. And you know as well as I do, he isn't capable of such a thing!"

"What about that consort—the woman who overtook your place?" he suddenly turned to face you, and the expression on his face almost made you shrink. There was no emotions in his eyes, just a dark hue of blue. "She was the one staging it, wasn't she?"

"I'm not vindictive enough to sentence her to her death here, Satoru." The more you argued about this, the more you felt like you were losing him. "Naoya will deal with her as he sees fit."

The mention of your ex-husband seemed to trigger something in him that his lips curled into a sneer.

"So much trust you place in him. As I thought, I should've never expected the same for me. Granted, we're just using each other, aren't we?"

Your own words thrown back at you, it felt like your shattered heart was being stomped on and reduced to dust, because how could he?

Still, you blinked away your tears, steeling yourself with the one fact even Satoru wouldn't be able to refute. "You said it yourself—you intend to use me for your war against the Eastern Empire. How am I not supposed to see that as you using me?"

You let out a scoff when Satoru wasn't able to answer you, but then suddenly it occurred to you that there might be another reason, one you had suspected, and yet still not able to make sense of.

"I'd think jealousy is insulting to you, so why?" you questioned, suddenly feeling a sense of betrayal. "Why is it that you can't believe that I can love you the same way I did Naoya? Or possibly even more?"

To Satoru, that very thought still felt like a thorn inside his chest. How you managed to see through him almost made his facade falter—

"And if you feel that it's unfair to you how you're the one who keeps proving yourself—then tell me," you suddenly demanded with a gritted teeth. "How am I supposed to believe you've loved me when I know marrying me came at just the right time for your goals?"

"That's not true!" he suddenly raised his voice, all pretentiousness forgotten. Right in this moment, to your surprise, he no longer resembled the cold, distant emperor he seemed to be.

“From the very moment you led me by the hand twenty years ago, I’ve longed for you! And now that I finally have you— it goes beyond mere infatuation or obsession! Heavens help me, but fuck it— I love you so damn much!”

It was everything. Satoru had poured his entire heart out in one go, believing it would be enough, until he saw you trembling, visibly holding back tears.

Your pretty eyes widened as you took in his confession. Your precious lips parted slightly, wobbling in effort to hold yourself together—

—until you felt light all of a sudden, as if the boulder in your heart had came crashing down, as if you had let go of all fears, and a small chuckle escaped you.

"You said, the woman you thought to have a semblance of affection for you doesn't exist," your voice was uneven but you tried so hard to sound clear, a relieved smile forming on your lips. "But she does. I do."

“I love you, Satoru.” The first of your tears fell then, and your voice came out in a sob. “I believe I love you. I'm the happiest while being with you. And so, to hear you say that I'm just a part of your plans makes me so incredibly sad, I—”

“I just want… the honest truth from you.” You took a deep breath to steady yourself, your eyes glistening like diamonds as you fought back the tears.

He swore something inside him twisted and bled at your voice, and suddenly, nothing else mattered—

Not when you have bared everything.

Before he could think, he took two decisive strides towards you and pulled you into his arms.

"Don't cry..." he pulled you tighter into him. "I'm sorry— don't cry, sweetheart, please—"

You kept sniffling into him, and Satoru felt his heart break then, as never had he seen you so utterly dejected that you surrendered in his arms.

How was it possible that the mere realization and sight of your genuine affection and tears reduced him to a man who would give up everything for you?

“It’s true, I have been planning to wage war against Eastern Empire for years. I took measures to keep them in check, and I do think having you by my side would definitely give me an advantage. But that’s not it... when I saw how you were being wronged there, I was even more convinced it was the rightest thing to do.”

He loves you. Even if he had committed various things, be it heinous or deceptive, one truth that transcends all is that his love for you is genuine.

“You mean so much to me,” he whispered into your ear, his hand tracing along your spine. “Everything else might be true, but you— no, I have loved you first before everything.”

Oh. You looked up to him, finding his clear, steadfast gaze on you. So this is how he is like when he isn’t hiding behind that crafty smile. When he is being most truthful.

The overflowing emotions obliterated whatever doubts you had left. You felt full. A profound, pervasive sense of love radiated through your myriad thoughts.

And to him, nothing was more liberating than knowing that you returned his love with equal fervor.

You felt bliss... utter bliss.

You didn't really know when you fell asleep, but it felt like the best rest you had in ages. For weeks, you had been waking up in the middle of the night, either in cold sweat or feeling tingling, barely-there stabs in your growing belly. On those nights, you would clutch the pillow beside you for comfort.

But tonight, you felt warm, and the first thing you noticed was Satoru's hair right in your face. He had laid his head above your chest, and his fingers were gently stroking your visible bump.

"Satoru...?" you asked sleepily, and he immediately turned to you in slight surprise.

"Did I wake you?" he looked almost alarmed. "Or do you feel any kind of pain or—?"

"No, just—" and you bit your lip when that familiar stab of pain shot through your hips. Your hand pressed against the spot as you let out a small grunt.

"Hey, what do you feel now?" Satoru immediately moved beside you, capturing you in the warmth of his embrace. "Does it hurt much? Do I need to call for—"

"No need to, it's fine—"

"It's not fine," he firmly retorted, his jaw set in a tight line. "The royal physician will come here first thing in the morning and that's final."

A faint smile formed in your lips as you curled closer and sighed contentedly into him. "Whatever you wish then, Your Majesty."

Satoru took that as a hint of sarcasm, but he simply pressed you closer and placed his warm hand over the spot where your hand rested. "Shoko told me. How long have you been enduring this?"

"Fairly recently, actually. A few weeks or so..."

I never knew. He berated himself because how would he be aware of this when he had completely shut you down? The stress must've gotten to you, and you were so delicate right now...

"Sorry," he sighed into your hair, his voice so quiet it was almost unheard. "From now on, everything that makes you uncomfortable, please tell me."

You looked up at him, searching his face, and when your innocent eyes met his, he relented.

"I'll do everything in my power to ensure you have a smooth journey in delivering our child." His words, sharp yet genuine, made your heart nearly leap out of your chest. "I hate seeing you in any sort of discomfort."

He fretted over you this much and yet he used to think you wouldn't show him the same affection in return. That was so ridiculous when you thought about it now.

"Ah," you giggled freely, wrapping your arms tight around him, and Satoru was taken aback at how that simple affirmation from you made something inside him feel lighter.

His endearing queen, who loved him back, now right in his arms. As he massaged your waist, he thought back to many years of careful planning and schemes, just for one particular goal...

“Not anymore,” he told you quietly, and you sleepily blinked your eye open. “I love you too much to break your heart.”

“Hmm?”

You were puzzled, and could feel his hot breath at such a close distance. And then those blue crystal of eyes met yours, full of warmth, and the corners of his lips curved into a soft smile, one that caught you by the heart.

“I’m made of many things. The emperor of this land, a soldier of many ambitions... but in the end, just a man.” His voice was languid and yet so gentle that it almost lulled you to sleep again. “If it were up to me, I’d have no qualms with warring the Eastern Empire. But now... I no longer wish to do that.”

Anticipation surged within you at his words, but still...

Noticing your reluctance, Satoru pinched your cheek and smiled. "It's not what you want. I thought I could proceed with it even if it'd leave you heartbroken... but apparently I can't."

And with his next proclamation, you knew without a doubt that this time, they were truer than anything else.

“And do you know? Because I love you, I’m willing to do anything for you. Mark my words, my queen— From now on... Heaven and earth, I would give it all to you.”

"Mm..." Whether it was your hormones or the sheer sincerity that shone through his words, tears were brimming in your eyes as Satoru gave you his oath. "Thank you... for thinking of me."

"Anything for you, sweetheart." He dipped his head to press a kiss on your lips and you were about to snuggle closer to him when you felt that familiar flutter and suddenly let out a gasp—

"Satoru!" you exclaimed, almost startling him, but you immediately reached out and placed his hand on your belly. "Feel it!"

And then, his eyes widened slightly. It was the most wondrous moment he had ever experienced in his life as he felt the baby inside you kick and ripple beneath his palm.

"Ah..." he exhaled the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Baby... she moves..."

The very idea of a precious baby girl that was an exact replica of you suddenly made his heart lurch. Satoru swore in that moment to protect her with his life... he didn't know it was possible, but he was already in love with her even when she wasn't born yet.

"Why are you so sure it's a girl?" you teased, wrapping your arms around his neck and smooched his jaw when he was rendered speechless. "I want a boy, you know."

Satoru snapped out of his trance and sullenly huffed. "I still hope it's a girl. I want a princess I can spoil rotten."

"I want a baby boy who looks like you." Your sincere wish surprised him, and he turned to you in bewilderment. "That way, even when you're away, I won't miss you as much since I still have the little prince near me."

"Ha." Satoru feigned a snort to cover the faint blush steadily gathering in his cheeks. Good heavens, how cute was it that he wanted a girl who resembled you and you wanted a boy just so he'd look like him? He was so giddy that he failed to come up with a witty comeback for you.

Pure bliss. After everything, this is your life from now on.

Shoko stood in front of your chambers the next morning, her heels clacking like a ticking watch of doom.

Unlike the everlasting frown etched on her face, she was actually in a dilemma, debating her choices outside your chambers. It was late morning already, but she'd hate to go in if you were not alone.

If she went ahead and caught you with Gojo on your bed—and worse, naked—with her own eyes... no, it was unthinkable what the sight would do to her. She would never recover. She would spew unforgivable profanities and Gojo might have her banished for real.

"What are you doing?"

Shoko whirled around so fast to suppress her shriek, and shot a look of distaste as soon as she saw who was behind her—Duke Geto. "Don't sneak up on me like that! You're not small like Sugu-chan!"

Suguru, prim and neat with his tied bun and black robes, raised one eyebrow, clearly swallowing any comments regarding the cat. "What are you doing, loitering in the hallway?"

"The empress hasn't woken up yet, and it's nearly midday. She has engagements with the master of tea parties later."

"Don't bother. Satoru's there. He'll most likely tell you that her schedule can be rearranged, and his word is law."

Shoko barked a laugh and Suguru too broke into a smile.

"So, they're good now?"

"Yeah... seems so."

"Thank fuck. Gojo owes me one for this."

The two friends chuckled again, relieved to know that the cold war between both of you had ceased.

Suguru leaned against the wall, his eyes crinkled at a memory. "Don't you remember those days, when Satoru used to watch the empress at each and every ball we attended, back when she was still the crown princess?"

Shoko crossed her arms, letting out a loud snort. "Oh yes. Everyone talked about him. The prince smitten by a rival country's betrothed... his reputation took a hit, but he never cared."

"I never took him seriously until recently. He was so adamant in his plans for the East that I thought... maybe it was all just to realize his war plans."

"Geto... don't tell me," the countess eyed her longtime friend incredulously. "Have not seen enough of the empress' paintings hanging in the halls? Is that not convincing enough for you?"

Throughout almost one year of your marriage, Satoru had commissioned at least five paintings of you to hang in the palace halls. Servants, members of parliament, and peerage must have seen at least one of your pictures whenever they turned a corner.

"If that's not stupidly in love, I didn't know what that is." Shoko shook her head with a smile. "Gojo has been spellbound for like years. I just never thought he'd really have her in the end though."

Suguru and Shoko had been by Satoru’s side for many years. Suguru was the closest to him still, and he had seen his friend for everything he was.

And knowing that Satoru was genuine in choosing this path, all Suguru could do was be happy for him.

“Life always has its ways… heh, I suppose all’s well that ends well.”

SOME MONTHS LATER . . .

"There, there, Sugu-chan!"

Suguru flinched. Satoru snickered.

"Meow!"

And you continued to tickle the white cat happily, seated a few feet away from both of them with a broad grin on your face.

"Should... Her Majesty be so close to the cat?" Suguru eventually asked, casting a skeptical gaze on you. The presence of the feline was certainly not what he expected when he entered Satoru's study per his summons. "It's dirty often and may affect her health."

"No, no... I never let him walk outside anymore and he has to be cleaned all times before the empress plays with him." Satoru's sly smile was a clear sign of taunt. "Suguru~ Won't you play with him too?"

Suguru shot him a withering look, his eyes twitching again the moment you addressed the cat by his childhood nickname.

"Oh, Sugu-chan, you're so gentle..." you exclaimed with a giggle. Your fingers gently scratched the cat's chin and behind his ears, causing him to purr happily and roll onto his back.

"Meooow~"

"Anyway, why did you call me here?" Suguru let out a sigh, disregarding the background noises and leveled a questioning look at his friend and ruler of the country.

"Hmm, nothing of importance actually, my cat just misses you is all," Satoru shrugged nonchalantly and Suguru really was about to pop a vein at his blatant response.

He then threw a sharp glance towards the pet and Sugu-chan immediately let out a dissatisfied hiss. This was always the way since the first day Satoru adopted him.

"Your cat, evidently, dislikes me at first sight."

"That's because he senses your animosity!"

Seeing how uncomfortable the duke looked, you suppressed a laugh and scooped up the feline into your arms. "Forgive me, Duke Geto. It's my idea to bring you here since I'm curious how you'd react if you and Sugu-chan are in the same room..."

...well, if it was your wish, who was he to deny it? Satoru would come for his head first should he do so.

You winked. "I'll bring him out for a walk, feel free to talk to your heart's content."

"Don't overexert yourself," Satoru warned, his playful expression towards him shifting to a concerned look for you, surprising Suguru in the process. "If walking is too much, take a rest."

"Yes, yes... I'll be fine~"

Satoru never took his eyes off you until you left his study, and Suguru couldn't help but smile.

"The way you always soften around her will never fail to surprise me," he noted with a hint of amusement.

"Then get surprised all your life because that's all I will do," he retorted with a proud smirk. "Oh right... how is the progress for the new courtyard?"

To replace the pagoda lost in your incident, Satoru came up with another gift for you—a private courtyard for your own personal pleasure. It still remained a secret from you, with Suguru tasked to oversee its construction.

"It's expected to be done before the empress' birthday, don't worry."

"Good..." His lips curved with satisfaction, before a blush tinted his cheeks. "And by then, the baby must've already..."

You were far along now, evident from how your dresses were no longer able to hide the curve of your swollen belly. He was to become a father soon, and anyone could see how elated Satoru was.

And suddenly he fixed his sharp gaze on his friend. "And Suguru, what about the other thing I asked? Have you looked into it?"

"Yeah...?"

"Zen'in Naoya's wench—" Satoru's eyes glinted with something akin to malice, as he still had that smile. "What did you find about her?"

Royal Consort Hanabi. A while ago, he also asked him to investigate her background, and Suguru almost forgot about it if he hadn't asked.

"Prior working as a palace servant, she was a former maid for Duke Kamo. As with all servants there, she was not treated kindly."

"Kamo? Interesting..."

The Kamo clan used to sit at Eastern Empire's throne up until Naoya's ancestors usurped it. Now, the heir remained a wealthy duke, and it was well-known that the fates of anyone who crossed him didn't end well.

Satoru hummed, barking a snort. "Well, I suppose that's it then. Suguru, proceed as is."

"I really thought you were done with any of your revenge plans." Suguru really didn't want to bring it up but he wasn't sure if this would bode well.

"I've given up on spilling blood, because that's not what my queen wants..." Satoru's smile froze on his face, yet his eyes sparkled. "But that doesn't mean I'll let that lowly bitch go unscathed. Our empress might be a saint and have chosen to spare her, but I most certainly am not as forgiving."

The chilly white light of the chandelier above him cast an eerie glow on Emperor Gojo Satoru at that moment, and Suguru almost shuddered.

"Didn't I tell you before? Anyone who dares to lay their hands on my empress... they have to pay the price."

Meanwhile in the Eastern Empire's palace, the royal consort still was the object of everyone's praises as of late.

It was almost astonishing how well she was treated recently, all because she was carrying the emperor's child, Hanabi thought with irony. So this was her life now.

Valued when she is able please the emperor, discarded when she fails to do so.

Sometimes it made her wonder, if it were still you in her place, would you be treated the same way? Or would you always be revered just like you were, unconditionally?

No matter. Her thoughts always leaned towards comparing herself with you, despite how much she hated it. Yet it was no use thinking of it now.

After all, now Naoya was in her arms.

She couldn't help but marvel at the sight of his sharp eyebrows and jaw. Hanabi had always thought, he was most handsome when he was vast asleep, when he wasn't hurling profanities at her or anyone else.

At first, she just wanted his love, and then a happy ending. She was never audacious enough to covet the empress' seat. But now she had to, after what you said to her.

"...that will be your downfall."

How could you? How dare you? Hanabi had gone through so much, who are you to dictate how her fates will turn out?

She now carried a son. She had even gone to an oracle to make sure of it. Soon, she would be the empress of this empire, and you would be forced to regard her as an equal.

And she was very much looking forward to that day…

Safe to say... you have long since thrown away any thoughts regarding the one woman who isn't worth a second of your time in your blissful days...

“Satoru, hng— ahh!” a lustful, provocative moan escaped your lips as you bucked your hips against his lips—face—and all the while, you weren’t even properly dressed.

But your emperor of a husband insisted on dipping his head inside your thin bathrobe and devouring you right on the staircase leading to the bathing chamber.

“Ah—aah—hah!” you threw your head back, spreading your legs impossibly wider around his shoulder, as you felt his lips licking your drenched nub.

You wanted so badly to see him, but weren’t able to do so as not only your belly had become such a dome that hindered you from seeing your lower half, Satoru hiding under your robes meant you wouldn’t be able to see him at all.

And so, all you could do was feel, feel and feel.

Feel how sticky wet your womanhood was, feel how his hair was tickling your thighs, and feel how as he eagerly sucked and nipped at you, it almost made you see stars—

“Satoru, the servants… mmrngh! Can walk in!” you tried to reason and yet failing at the same time as a shuddering pleasure washed over you like a rising tide.

“So be it,” came Satoru’s daring reply from underneath. “Let them see… and I’ll tell them— this is how their empress comes to be s-so swollen… with the fruit of my labors!”

You moaned again unabashedly, not even bothering to hold it back as the noises you made echoed throughout the hall, your fingers curling and clawing at the marbled tiles.

And soon, you couldn’t hold it in anymore as you came around his tongue.

“Ah…” you writhed breathlessly, feeling how your cum helplessly gushing out, limp against the stairs. Your body jerked, and cramped as you felt him taking in everything that came out of you.

When he was done, Satoru gently removed your light robe and embraced you, taking in every detail. He admired the cascade of your hair over your shoulder, the softness of your skin—seemingly even softer in recent months—and how your body gracefully accommodated the baby.

So heavy with his child… and yet it only roused his desires.

“Look at you, do I tire you out?” he chuckled, licking the remnants of your juice off his lips. You shot him an unamused look and poked his chest in response.

“Here, let me clean you up...”

After cleaning you, he gathered you and brought you to the bath tub, submerging both of you in the warm water.

Satoru pulled you close from behind, wrapping his arms around your upper body, gently kissing your neck.

“You’re so affectionate,” you giggled as you caressed his cheek. “I had half a mind that you’d be repulsed with how big I’ve become, and yet you never stray far from my bed.”

“Nonsense. Your chamber is the temple and I worship any ground you walk on.”

“You’re not worshipping me?”

“I do more than just worship you, my goddess.” Satoru drawled out with a lazy smile, burning a wet kiss on your face. “You know that.”

At this moment, you felt warm and fulfilled, resigning yourself to your husband's arms with a contented sigh... until you let out a low hiss when you felt the familiar pounding from inside your belly.

"Shh," Satoru warm hand pressed on the protruding spot in your bump, soothing you. "There, there... don't hurt your mama, hmm?"

Soon, you'd have your baby in your arms, and your heart melted at the very thought. That little baby would soon be running the palace halls, bringing joy to this empire.

"You know I'd protect you from anything and everything," your husband said to you in a whisper, lovingly breathing in your scent. "So my only wish for you is to deliver the baby safely. Afterwards, leave the rest to me, hmm?"

I don't want to lose you. That was clearly the fear behind his words. Satoru's grip on you tightened and you kissed his arm, reassuring him.

After everything you went through, this would be your happy ending, and you would do whatever it takes to win it.

And then the day comes —

Your labor pains started at the crack of dawn, and you were immediately brought to the birthing chambers afterwards.

Even within the confines of your chambers, your cries echoed through the halls. Shoko and several of your maids stayed with you inside, while the Archbishop guarded the entrance.

"It's almost a day and a half," Satoru muttered restlessly, unable to go on with his day as he paced outside. He had been with you when you woke up to your waters breaking, and he hadn't been able to think straight since.

A maid rushed outside with bloodied towels and he immediately stopped her. "How is the empress? Is she alright?"

The petrified maid bowed her head. "Her Majesty is losing blood, Your Majesty!"

He lost all reasons that very moment. "I have to come inside—!"

"You can't be in there, Your Majesty!" Archbishop Yaga sternly forbid, standing in his way. "It's women's business inside—you should be ready when they announced the birth of the child!"

Satoru's eyes twitched with fury and he was really about to drive past him when this time, it was Shoko who came out, looking alarmed. "Gojo! She's asking for you!"

"He cannot!"

"Suguru..." Satoru turned to his friend with a look and immediately, the duke went to the man’s side.

The emperor then regarded him with an unsettling smile. "Do you like being the Archbishop?"

"Huh?"

"Would you want to keep your position as the Archbishop?"

"Your Majesty!"

"Do you believe you can keep your position as the Archbishop... by defying me?"

Yaga fell silent, as if he had just swallowed a sour lemon, and Satoru seized the opportunity to push him aside. "Then move."

Even after Satoru had rushed inside, Suguru remained near the archbishop and Yaga looked at him incredulously. "He went inside already, why are you still here?"

"His Majesty's orders. Have to keep an eye for you for evaluation since he has another candidate in mind should he deem you unfit in your role..."

"Who is the other candidate!?"

"Ah, he told me his name was... Priest Akutami?"

. . .

Pain blinded your senses that you fell back to the sheets after strenuously pushing, and the next thing you knew, Satoru's face was in your sight.

"Sweetheart, hey..." he took hold of your hand and planted a firm kiss on it. His cerulean eyes gleamed brightly as he gazed at you. "I'm here now."

"Satoru—" your voice came out as a whisper, before another contraction seized you and you moaned. Your eyes rolled back involuntarily as the intense pain surged through you once more. You could feel how close you were, yet it was so painful you could barely breathe.

"Take deep breath, here—" he helped you to sit straighter and gave you his arm to hold.

"Your Majesty, I can see the head already!" the midwife exclaimed in joy, and Satoru turned to you with a smile.

“A little bit more,” he encouraged you, pressing a kiss on your temple. “Just a bit more, my sweet, you can do it, hmm? Here, hold onto me.”

And with his voice as your lifeline, you groaned and pushed once more, putting a part of your soul into it before you blacked out and collapsed in his arms.

At first, everything was silent, but then a sound reached your ears— a cry. Your baby's first cry.

"I-it's a princess!" the midwife announced, and the room erupted into gasps of wonder.

You looked at Satoru through bleary eyes, and for the first time, you saw him utterly speechless.

He was struck by the sight of that tiny being being gently cleaned by Shoko before his gaze returned to you.

You were sweaty, panting, limp, appearing haggard with tears in your eyes and streaking your face, and yet...

You are still the most beautiful thing he has ever laid his eyes on.

"A girl... just... like you wanted..." you managed to say with a hoarse voice and wobbly smile, and seeing you, without a moment's hesitation, Satoru went in and locked you in a deep kiss.

"Thank you—" even he himself was near tears when he pulled away and pressed his forehead against yours. There were so many things he wanted to tell you, countless celebrations he envisioned, all in praise of you and the heavens above for granting him such unparalleled happiness—

"...!" But suddenly, you curled into him, suppressing a scream and failing that it turned into a devastating wail, and you dug your nails into the flesh of his arm. "Ahhh!"

"What happened?" Satoru looked at you in alarm, then to the midwife who hurried to tend to you once more. "What happened to the Empress?!"

The midwife probed your belly, her expression lighting up with understanding. "O-oh my... there is another baby, Your Majesty!"

He didn't have time to dwell on the revelation when you cried out again. Setting aside all surprise, he aided you once more, and after more minutes of intense effort—

"A prince! The Empress has given birth to a prince!"

Twins. The whole Western Empire rejoiced at the news that their new empress had delivered a prince and princess for the nation.

Amidst the flurry of upcoming festivities and celebrations, you spent most of your days resting, as the birth had taken a lot out of you. Satoru took charge of the planning again, despite his busy schedule, and of course, he never failed to visit you and the babies regularly.

And whenever he did, his breath was always taken away.

Two precious babies lay still in the bassinet, peacefully asleep. Satoru gently poked each of them on the cheek.

The princess... as if the heavens had answered his prayers, she resembled you so closely that he fell in love all over again. She was so precious and small, and he imagined she would grow into a beauty just like you.

Satoru had sworn it before and did so again—he would protect her at all costs.

And the prince... he was so much like Satoru that it made his heart skip a beat. With his hair and eyes, his one concern was whether he had inherited his curse too. But regardless, he was determined to help and guide him should that day ever come.

When the boy cooed in his sleep, Satoru knew he too owned a part of his heart. He would definitely raise him well, teach him how to protect you and his sister, and one day, to succeed him as well.

As of you... you were asleep much like your children, and Satoru failed to hold back a smile. He gently combed your hair and just like that, you were roused from your sleep.

"Satoru, hello," you croaked and leaned into his touch.

His eyes fondly crinkled as he looked at you. "How are you feeling?"

"Good. It's been weeks. I've been feeling better for a while actually." You threw him a meaningful smile. "I might've cheated my way out of royal duties to rest..."

"Heh. Then keep cheating until the allotted time then. I'll permit it."

You raised an eyebrow. "When will my time be up?"

"The ceremony to present our babies..." Satoru played with your fingers. "We're expected to hold them and show them to the masses. You have to be there so they won't forget who the empress is."

"Right..." but you suddenly deflated and your husband tilted his head. "After that... we can't keep them out of the prying eyes anymore, everyone would delve into their affairs too."

Satoru's eyes fixed on you, sincere and true. "We can't avoid it, but if you wish for them to be out of the limelight for a little more time, I can arrange it. Your wishes come first."

The thought that your precious babies would be faced with many court intrigues made you want to keep them inside the protection of your womb a little longer. Yet, just as you and Satoru had experienced yourselves, sitting at the highest seat of monarchy required unbending will. Both of you would have to teach that strength to your children.

As if knowing what you were thinking, Satoru gathered both of your hands and squeezed it with a smile.

“Still, we are going to be there for them, are we not? Don’t worry. I’m here, and there’s no way I’m letting our son face any sort of curse alone.” He caressed your knuckles. “And you will be here for our daughter, teaching her how to become a magnificent lady just like you. As long as we’re here... they’ll be okay, hmm?”

Right at that moment, as you stared back at his deep, sparkling eyes, you could've sworn that you had fallen in love with Gojo Satoru once again.

You used to think that to love is to be accepted wholly, but after everything you had experienced, you realized that it also came with a load of worries, and you used to fear them, until...

A smile so pretty bloomed in your face as you squeezed his hand back.

“I love you,” you held his gaze unwaveringly, your eyes shining like glitters. “So long as we’re together, there’s nothing we can’t do, yeah?”

He seemed taken aback at first, before breaking into a smile so dashing it was almost blinding.

“Chasing after you and making you my empress is possibly the greatest deed I’ve achieved my entire life,” Satoru declared with a grin, and you knew your heart was truly his in every sense then.

“So, right. From now on and forevermore— You and me. Always.”

. . .

The presentation of the new crown prince and princess of Western Empire was an unforgettable affair. The grandeur of the celebration rivaled even the festivities of your wedding itself.

Given that it was both a ceremony for the babies and also nearing your birthday, Satoru decided to host a grand ball to mark the occasion. This lavish event ensured no one would dispute your position, regardless of how you came to hold it, and it was also befitting the bestowal of official titles upon your children.

Your son and daughter squirmed in their crib as they were brought forward, and once again, as you stood before the assembled court, you felt a twinge of reluctance to finally present them to everyone.

But Satoru's eyes held you with so much certainty that you found reassurance in his gaze.

And by the moment he cradled your son and you held your daughter, and he declared to the court—

"Here I present to you, the Crown Prince and Crown Princess of Western Empire!"

You feel wholly sure. With Satoru by your side, you let go of all your fears. Time and time again, he had proved the extend of his love for you, and as you ushered a new era with him, you believed all was going to be well.

Just like your coronation not long ago, the crowd cheered in joy.

Gazing upon the sea of people roaring and cheering below… a familiar warmth surged within you.

Once again, it was a sight beyond belief for you, as they chanted praises and acclamations—

“LONG LIVE THE CROWN PRINCE!”

“ALL HAIL THE EMPEROR!”

“LONG LIVE THE EMPIRE!”

SOME WEEKS LATER . . .

"We've received a very strange invitation..."

You looked up from your baby boy and curiously peeked at one of Satoru's aides who was on duty today, Todo Aoi. He had come bearing news.

You had always thought he was quite eccentric, but today, he looked uncharacteristically serious.

"Strange, how?" Suguru questioned.

"From?" Satoru added with a totally uninterested expression.

"Eastern Empire," the man coughed awkwardly, as if thinking hard. "Apparently, a prince has been born and the royal consort is to be crowned as the new empress..."

"Who!?" Shoko, who was holding your baby girl, whirled around in surprise.

"Royal Consort Hanabi, I believe her name is. She is to be the Empress of Eastern Empire."

It was such a deafening silence all of a sudden that you could hear a pin drop. Suguru and Shoko gaped. You were stunned.

Only Satoru who didn't seem to show any reaction to the news.

Suguru cleared his throat, feeling the need to double-take. "Empress of... where?"

"That conniving hag..." Shoko muttered under her breath, before her gaze accidentally landed on you.

You were surprised, but strangely, you didn't feel anything. Long ago, you would've been heartbroken by this turn of events, but now, it just eluded you how she could maintain her position as long as she could. Well, when one is favored by luck, anything is possible though...

Satoru suddenly clapped his hands, letting out a mocking laugh.

"Is it really that surprising?" he asked with so much sarcasm, catching all four of you off guard. "When the emperor can barely fulfill his duties, even a scullery maid could rise to become the mother of the nation. The real question is..."

It was as if a sudden chill descended upon the room when he next spoke:

"How long... will she last?"

The question is answered soon enough.

Empress Hanabi's reign in the Eastern Empire lasted for only seven days. It was known as the greatest scandal ever gracing the history.

She had given birth to a son, who was appointed as the crown prince on the same day as her coronation. Emperor Zen'in Naoya personally led the ceremony. At first glance, it really seemed well...

Until seven days later, he suddenly erupted in fury.

The palace walls have ears, and behind closed doors, servants whispered about the incident. It began with Naoya launching into a tirade, claiming that the princess born to Hanabi previously, as well as the newborn prince, were not his by blood.

It was of the highest form of treachery to deceive the crown, and so a death sentence was about to be imposed on Hanabi for this… until the emperor suddenly fell ill due to a stroke, rendering him unfit to rule. Prince Megumi ascended the throne as the new emperor.

Despite his stern demeanor, the young emperor showed abundant kindness. He considered the plight of Hanabi's children, realizing they would be in peril without their mother, so he chose to banish her instead.

. . .

How did it end up like this?

Hanabi didn't know how many days and nights she had cried, cursing fate and her life, as she was being sent away from the palace.

Everything was in her grasp. Her very grasp! Until... until—!

She sobbed her heart out once again, mourning her short-lived life, before it was cruelly robbed from her.

Her children... they were all of Naoya's blood. Despite doubts surrounding them, she was faithful to him and to the crown. All of this... was all a whole scheme to trap her!

...was it you? Could you have orchestrated this? Could you truly be so wicked as to ruin her life entirely?

"You've always coveted what I have, and sooner or later, that will be your downfall."

Was this the price of defying her social status, just like your omen, after all...?

"That can't be!" she screamed inside the wagon set to bring her to the unknown, her voice drowned by the sound of the rainstorm happening outside. "Empress Y/N... you're a horrible human being!"

With every fiber of her being, she hated you so much for ever crossing your path with hers.

Even until the end, she never realized that it was all her own doing.

After hours of journey on the road, she was brought inside a mansion she failed to recognize due to the storm at the first glance. She had given up on resisting because it was futile.

But upon realizing who awaited her in the room, she trembled in fear and backed against the wall.

Hanabi wished she could lose her sanity amidst the whirlwind madness happening to her, because really, it might be better than all of this.

His impressive height gazed down at her from above. It was impossible to hide from his piercing stare.

Duke Kamo Choso, with his crooked sneer, greeted her.

"Well, hello, Hanabi... it has been a while, huh? Did you miss me?"

- END -

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yandere-daydreams · 6 months ago

Text

Title: Till The Water Boils Over Or The Frog Drowns.

Pairing: Yan!Gojo x Reader x Yan!Geto (JJK).

Word Count: 5.8k.

TW: No Curses AU, Dub/Con -> Non/Con (Revoked Consent), Fem!Reader, Oral Sex, Unprotected Sex, Kidnapping, Financial Abuse, Psychological Abuse, Infantilization, Spanking, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, and Forced Codependency. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

[Part Two]

It started the day Satoru first introduced the concept of ‘time out’ to your relationship.

He was immature and you were stubborn. You loved him, but without Suguru’s even temper and calming presence, sparks tended to fly in a way that left you at each other’s throats. With your arms crossed over your chest and your eyes narrowed, you’d watched him sigh, roll his eyes, and storm out of your shared bedroom, slamming the door behind him. You gave yourself a second, then another – sucking in a shallow breath and shutting your eyes, talking yourself through all your usual cool-down methods. You were supposed to go out, tonight, to a restaurant you and Satoru had both been talking about for weeks. You still had about an hour before Suguru was supposed to get home, before you were all supposed to leave together. It wasn’t a good day to fight, even if you knew Suguru would smooth everything over as soon as he got home.

When you were done, you moved to the bedroom door. One hour was plenty of time to talk things out. One hour was plenty of time to kiss and make up, even if you would hold a grudge for a—

You pushed gently on the door. It didn’t budge.

You tried the knob. It turned, but the door still didn’t open.

You pressed your shoulder into the wood, shoving with more force than you ever should’ve had to use. Something shifted – a chair slotted underneath the handle, Satoru’s back leaning against the other side of the thin wood – but didn’t give.

The frustration you’d only just managed to suppress resurfaced immediately. Still pressed against your side of the door, you called out, attempting to keep your tone soft, light. “Satoru? Baby?”

The sweetness in his voice was equally artificial. “I’m right here, angel.”

“I—I think the door might be jammed.” You tried the knob again, rattling the metal for emphasis. Satoru only hummed in response, and you grimaced. “Are you gonna let me out, ‘toru? I really don’t have time to be—”

“Ninety minutes.”

“…ninety minutes?”

“Ninety minutes,” he repeated. You could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “After that, we can check and see if you’re still feelin’ so bratty.”

You were almost thankful there was a door between you. If it hadn’t been there, you might not have been able to stop yourself from throttling him. “Satoru, I really don’t have time to—”

There was an obnoxiously loud hum, the sound of footsteps moving down the hall. You groaned, resting your forehead against the cool wood. Whatever. He was being petty, again. You could do ninety minutes. And, even if you couldn’t, he’d probably be back in ten, tail between his legs and pouting for your attention.

You quickly resigned yourself to passing the time as quickly as possible. You laid face-down on your bed, bemoaning your taste in men and picturing all the ways you could break up with Satoru, once he let you out. You scrolled through your phone, spamming Suguru with half-coherent messages and memes from the very depths of your camera roll. You re-organized your closet, sorting your clothes by color and alphabetizing your shoes. You managed to read a full page of one of the bulky historical fiction novels Suguru kept on the bedside table before deciding you’d be better off breaking up with both your current boyfriends.

You checked the time when you were done, and discovered that you’d managed to kill a whopping fifteen minutes.

God, you were so fucked.

Only half-consciously, you gravitated back to the door, slumping against it. You opened your mouth, ready to call out to Satoru and say whatever you had to say to get out, but another voice cut in before you got the chance. “Baby?”

Suguru. He must’ve gotten back early. You let out a shallow sigh, letting your head fall forward in relief. “Right here,” you said, making no effort to hide your exasperation. “Can you open the door? I think ‘toru blocked me in.”

His deep chuckle was muffled, but still clearly audible. “I’m afraid I can’t. He’s still pretty mad, couldn’t stop talking about how you copped an attitude with him.” There was a pause, a shoulder being rested against the other side of the door. “I think he mentioned something about a dress?”

You were glad he couldn’t see you – he would’ve hated the way you grimaced at the reminder. “It’s a nice restaurant. I wanted to dress up a little, but he’s just so immature, and when he saw the dress I wanted to wear—”

Suguru cut in. “The red one, right?”

“Yeah, with the window on the chest.” You sighed. “Please, Suguru? I really don’t want to spend the next hour of my life locked in my own bedroom.”

Another laugh, this one more stifled than the first. “He just knows how pretty you’d look, babe. Probably doesn’t want anyone else to find out how beautiful our partner is.” When you didn’t respond, he added, “Didn’t he just buy you somethin’ brand new? He can’t complain if he’s the one who picked it out, right?”

You pursed your lips. He had – a pure ivory dress, a little shorter than mid-thigh and sleeveless, not exactly conservative, but not meant to show as much skin as you usually preferred to. It’d come with matching gold jewelry, and you’d politely accepted the gift, kissed him on the cheek, and stashed it under your bed to rot. It wasn’t ugly, nothing so expensive could be, but it suited Satoru’s tastes, not yours.

“I don’t know,” you muttered, trying to soften the harsher edges of your distaste. “You know how Satoru is. Everything he picks out is just so—so him.”

“I’m starting to think you both might be causing problems.” You kicked the base of the door, but Suguru didn’t indulge your outburst with acknowledgement. “Just try it on, alright? If it’s that bad, we can always go without him.”

It took another minute or so of condoling, but soon enough, you were slipping into Satoru’s gifted dress, cursing as you struggled with the tiny, finicky zipper and smoothed wrinkles out of abused silk. You pulled your fingers through your hair once before returning to the bedroom door and knocking defeatedly. As if to add insult to injury, the door swung open in an instant, a smiling Suguru waiting on the threshold.

“See? Absolutely gorgeous, as always.” He leaned forward, cupping your cheek. You let his lips brush over your forehead before pulling away. Thankfully, he wasn’t cruel enough to draw it out any longer – his hand falling to yours and taking it up, tugging you gently towards the living room. “Satoru’s going to forget he was ever mad at all as soon as he sees you.”

You didn’t bother responding, only slumping against his side and letting him guide you forward. Distantly, you heard Suguru calling out to Satoru, but you were already busy – too occupied promising yourself that this would never, ever happen again to care what either of them was saying.

You would, of course, be wrong.

Barricaded doors quickly became a weekly inconvenience. You and Satoru fought often (never intensely and never for very long, but often), and he owned the apartment – meaning, despite all your whining, you couldn’t exactly tell him that his doors couldn’t all lock from the outside. Your ‘cool-down sessions’ (Suguru’s words, not yours) lasted anywhere from twenty minutes to a couple of hours, and Suguru was always the one to let you out. When you couldn’t be locked up and left to stew, Satoru would take it upon himself to leave the apartment – if only for as long as he thought it would take for you to forget you’d argued at all. You got used to it quickly. It wasn’t fair, you didn’t enjoy it, but you got used to it. You’d always had more patience than you really should’ve, when it came to Satoru’s antics.

And then, Suguru started showering with you.

Finding time to spend together was an ever-present obstacle in your relationship. Satoru alternated sporadically between planning lectures and grading papers late into the night to rolling his eyes at the concept of due dates and dulling out extra credit on a whim, and trying to guess if Suguru would be free was a pursuit in futility – his sermons were scheduled, but he was almost always being called out on some mysterious errand on behalf of one of his countless, faceless apostles. You didn’t work at all, but you went to school, and you kept yourself busy. You’d never be as busy as Satoru and Suguru, but you did your best to keep up with them.

Currently, you were basking in the afterglow with Suguru, your head resting on his chest and his arms wrapped loosely around his waist. Satoru was already gone, rushed off to some early-morning lecture, but Suguru didn’t have anything to do, and you—well, you could miss a lecture or two if it meant spending time with him. And, even if you couldn’t, it was hard to imagine tearing yourself away from the feeling of his calloused fingers tracing aimless patterns into the small of your back, of his lips pushing warm, open-mouthed kisses into your shoulders, your collarbone, your throat. His hands drifted to your hips, grip tightening ever-so-slightly, and you felt a raspy groan reverberate against the side of your neck, Suguru pulling you close as he—

“Save it,” you said, drawing back. He pouted and you grinned, pecking the corner of his jaw and sitting up, letting his sheets pool around your waist. “Just for a few minutes – I feel gross.” A full groan, this time. You laughed, combing his disheveled hair back and pressing another kiss into his forehead, this one lingering just a beat longer than the first. “You’ll survive a shower, Suguru.”

You felt him shift underneath you. Before you had a chance to pull away, he was sitting up, his arms still around your waist – keeping you messily laid across his lap. “I’ll come with you.”

“You’ll wait your turn.” And then, when he only hummed in response, “I’m being serious. Somebody in this relationship has to wash their hair every now and then.”

His face was already buried in the crook of your neck, and he was moving toward the edge of the mattress with your body still tucked against his chest. He was planning on carrying you, presumably. Sometimes, it felt like if it were up to Suguru, you’d never walk anywhere on your own again. “I know.” His voice was still raspy with sleep, his usual articulation weighed down by the fatigue that came with a morning spent in bed. “I’ll help.”

“That’s really sweet, but—” You strung your arms around his neck as he stood up, taking you with him. “—I think I’ll be alright on my own, Suguru.”

For the first time all morning, his eyes flickered open, wandering idly in your direction. He held your gaze for a beat, then another.

Finally, the edge of his lips quirked upward – the sly, knowing grin you’d fallen in love with soon painted across his lips. When he spoke, it was in a tone to match, all confidence and cloying, calculated sweetness. “No.”

You faltered, at that. “…no?”

“Don’t wanna be away from you for that long,” he mumbled, by way of explanation. “Whatever you need to do, I’ll take care of. Don’t want you to have to worry your pretty little head over anything.”

You tried your best to laugh, but it was a weak effort, better left unacknowledged. “I don’t know how I feel about my boyfriend offering to, I don’t know, shave my legs or something.”

He only soldiered on, as if you hadn’t said anything at all.

You felt Satoru’s hands on your waist first, then his chest against your back. His mouth found the curve of your throat as if by instinct, teeth grazing against a bruise Suguru had left in the same spot the day before. You felt him lean against you and dropped the knife you were holding onto a nearby cutting board, bracing yourself on the edge of the counter to compensate.

You glanced over your shoulder as his head bowed, face soon buried in the dip of your shoulder. He must’ve just gotten home – he was still wearing his sunglasses, only the first three buttons on his shirt undone. You grinned, twisting around just far enough to kiss the top of his head before turning back to your ingredients. “Rough lecture?”

“Grad students,” he muttered, the dread in his voice plainly audible. “One more fucking extension request, and I swear, I’ll fail the entire class.”

You hummed, letting him sink further into you. You might’ve let him stay there, too, if one of his hands hadn’t fallen to your ass while the other slipped underneath your loose shirt. Before he could creep upward, you jabbed an elbow into his chest. “Keep it in your pants. You still smell like a college campus.”

Of course, he didn’t budge. “But I missed you,” he whined, as shameless as he was clingy. “I had to leave so early, and I was stuck in my office for so long, and I’m gonna die if I have to wait any longer. Is that what you want? For me to die?”

“You could always go to Suguru, if you’re that insatiable.”

“But I want you.” You felt a thumb slip below the waistband of your sweatpants (or, Suguru’s sweatpants, technically – he’d been unbearable unless you were wearing his clothes, recently) and batted his hand away. Your efforts were, predictably, unsuccessful. “Please, baby?” And then, after a beat. “You don’t care about dinner more than you care about me, do you?”

You felt something delicate inside of you falter, crack, then fall apart entirely. It was strange – how long you could nurse a wound without acknowledging it existed at all. “It’s not that, I just—” You stuttered, then stopped entirely. You deflated underneath Satoru’s weight, and as if in response, he held you that much tighter, keeping you as close as you could be, lest he carve open his chest and force you into the open cavity. “I… I guess I feel like I haven’t really been doing a lot for you two, lately. You pay all the bills, and Suguru goes out of his way to take care of me, and there just… It makes me feel kind of useless.” You tried to punctuate the confession with a smile, a laugh, but both were hollow beyond the point of recognizability. It would’ve been better if you hadn’t tried at all. “You get it, right? I just—I don’t want to be the only one not doing anything.”

There was a beat of silence. You felt Satoru settle against you, his chest pressing into your back before he pulled away, detaching from you entirely. You sighed, letting yourself relax.

And then, just as suddenly, you were off of your feet and in Satoru’s arm, one tucked under the bend of your knees while the other supported your back. You managed a stammered, half-coherent protest, but if Satoru was listening, he wasn’t bothered.

He carried you out of the kitchen and into the living room, your half-finished recipe forgotten in favor of dropping you onto the nearest couch and kneeling over you, already pulling on the collar of his shirt. “Sounds like our baby’s been thinkin’ too much.” He was grinning, his glasses sitting low on the bridge of his nose. “Let me put a stop to that.”

You opened your mouth, but you didn’t have time to respond. His mouth was already crashing into yours; swallowing down anything you might’ve said and replacing it with a breathy moan, a haze over your conscious thoughts.

You didn’t bother trying to talk your way out from underneath Satoru, again.

You couldn’t breathe.

It took you a moment to realize what was wrong, another to put together why. You felt the blunt tip of Suguru’s cock hit the back of your throat as Satoru’s chest pressed into yours, the latter pressing the air out of your lungs while the former forced you to choke what little was left up. Satoru had set a relentless pace; his thrusts brutal, his tempo erratic, his hips crashing into yours with enough force to bruise. Two of Suguru’s thick, calloused fingers were lodged between your body and Satoru’s drawing quick, precise patterns into your clit, while both of Satoru’s hands were wrapped around the underside of your thighs, keeping your knees pinned to your chest, your body folded in half and pressed into the mattress. They’d always been taller than you, with Suguru kneeling by your head and Satoru looming over you, they both seemed so much bigger. They both seemed so, so much stronger than they ever had before.

You couldn’t breathe. The lack of oxygen was already rushing to your head, already replacing your sense of logic with a shrill, panicked buzz. Your body hurt everywhere they touched it, the warmth pooling in your core and arousal left behind by previous climaxes not enough to dull the sharp sting of Satoru’s nails against your skin, not enough to soften the harsh edge of the grin you could only barely see spread across Suguru’s lips out of the corner of your eye. It was a struggle just to move your jaw, and even then, any sounds you were able to make were borderline incoherent – your little chants of ‘red, red, red’ so stifled and so garbled by Suguru’s cock that you couldn’t have blamed him for not hearing you at all. It was only when you tried to pull your head back that his eyes fell away from where Satoru’s cock was fucking into your dripping cunt and to your face, tears of distress already beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes. You let out one more panicked cry, hoping beyond hope that he’d be able to see the fear in your expression and know something was wrong, but that grin you had loved so much only widened, sharpened. “Like that, princess?” You felt his free hand on the top of your head, fingers carding through your hair while the patterns being pushed into your sensitive clit sped up, intensified. “Faster,” he cooed to Satoru, his voice laced with something vicious and mocking. “If she can still cry, she can still fuck.”

He didn’t mean it. He couldn’t mean it. Suguru just liked to be mean in bed, and Satoru liked to indulge him. That was the only reason they were doing this to you, that was the only reason Satoru listened; leaning that much more of his weight onto as his cock beat against the walls of your cunt. “Fuck,” Satoru muttered, as Suguru’s cock twitched against the roof of your mouth. “Got tighter when you said that. Is that what you want? For me and him to fuck you unconscious?”

This time, you didn’t try to pull back, you jerked – lurching out of Suguru’s hold, drawing back until you could gasp and pant and fill your aching lungs. “Red,” you half-choked, half-cried. “Red, red, stop, too much, I can’t—”

Satoru cut you off with a throat groan. You felt his form tense against yours, heard a shameless moan spill past his lips, and suddenly, it was like you’d forgotten how to breathe entirely. “Too close for that,” he muttered, his lips close enough to ghost over the shell of your ear. “You can take it for me, angel.”

You couldn’t, but you didn’t have time to tell him that. You opened your mouth, but all you could seem to spit out was a keening, pitiful whine as you felt something deep in your core pull taut and snap, as your cunt clenched around him and you came undone on Satoru’s cock for the nth time. At the same time, he went stiffed above you, forcing his hips flush with yours and filling your abused pussy with something thick and searing. The feeling was alien, strange. You could’ve sworn he said he would wear a condom, tonight.

It felt like you laid there for a small eternity – trapped under Satoru’s limp body, Suguru still petting idly through your hair. You stared unblinkingly at the ceiling until, days later, Satoru pulled himself upright with a raspy grunt, turning to Suguru. You were vaguely aware of his head being lowered into Suguru’s lap, moving to finish the job you hadn’t wanted to, but that seemed distant, unimportant. The room was too small, too closed-off. You weren’t getting enough air. You were too warm. You were too small. You—

You needed to leave.

Your body was on the edge of the mattress before your mind could make the conscious decision to move. You were shaking, despite the damp humidity clinging to your skin, but you tried to ignore that and focus on getting your feet underneath you, on fishing Satoru’s shirt off the floor and pulling it over your head. You’d need pants, too, and your wallet – maybe you’d still have a little cash stowed away, something from before Satoru insisted you start carrying one of his platinum cards. You’d spend the night in a hotel, or better yet, rent a car – get out of Tokyo altogether. You had a friend who lived outside of the city – or, you used to, at least. You couldn’t remember the last time you talked to someone other than Satoru and Suguru.

You made it to the doorway before Suguru called out. “Going somewhere, princess?”

You froze, but didn’t look over your shoulder. You could barely stand. You needed to go. “I just—I think I need a little air.”

“Give us a minute. Me or ‘toru should go with you.” There was a lull to his voice, an airiness just barely audible over the slick, sloppy sound of Satoru’s mouth moving over his shaft. You could remember admiring that about him, once, constantly thinking about how lucky you were to have such a cool, confident boyfriend. Right now, though, it was hard to think of his unfaltering composure as anything but inhuman. “It just wouldn’t be safe to let you—”

“I need air,” you repeated, because it was true, because you did. Little, black spots were already starting to dot your vision, and it felt like someone was trying to wrap their hands around your throat and squeeze. “I… I think I might be gone for a while, too.”

For all his tenderness, Suguru didn’t sound very concerned. “How long?”

“A couple hours,” you tried, and then, much more quietly, when he let out a disbelieving hum. “…a few days?”

This time, Suguru didn’t have to say anything at all. Leaning against the doorway, Satoru’s cum still dripping down the inside of your thigh, it took less than a minute for you to crack on your own. “I think we… I think I might need a little space.”

There was another beat of silence, occupied only by a soft groan from Suguru, the sound of noisy swallowing from Satoru. Finally, he sighed. You didn’t dare to look, but you could picture him shaking his head, smiling as he rolled his eyes. Acting as if you’d just said the stupidest thing in the world. “What do you think, Satoru? Have we waited long enough.”

“—too long.” Satoru’s voice was hoarse, breathy. In your peripheral, you could see him dragging the back of his hand across his lips as he raised his head. “We’ve had everything ready for months, now.”

That was all Suguru needed to hear. He turned back to you, letting his head lull to the side. “Come back to bed, won’t you, princess?”

You didn’t respond. What little air you still had hitched in your collapsing throat as you attempted to move forward, only for a hand to catch your shoulder and hold you in-place. It was Satoru – now standing less than a full step behind you. He didn’t bother with a warning before wrapping his free arm around your waist and dragging you into his chest and off of your feet. You made a weak effort to thrash, to squirm, to dig your nails into the forearm laid over your midriff, but Satoru didn’t make a sound, didn’t let you go, only hauling you back to where Suguru sat on the edge of the mattress. You shouldn’t have felt as betrayed as you did. They’d both always been able to pick you up and throw you around like a kitten, being carried from place to place by its scruff. It was always only going to be a matter of time before they stopped listening to your half-hearted protests entirely.

“Over the knee,” Suguru said with a sort of flippant, beckoning gesture. “I want to make sure we get off on the right foot.”

Wordlessly, unceremoniously, you were dropped face-down into Suguru’s lap – his thighs pressing into your exposed stomach. Satoru lowered himself to the floor in front of you, sitting cross-legged and reaching out, cupping your face delicately. More out of reflex than anything intelligent, you tried to push yourself up, but a hand on the small of your back was enough to keep you paralyzed. Sometime between the doorway and the bed, the shaking had gotten worse. You doubted you’d be able to keep your legs underneath you, anymore. “Twenty-five,” he announced – an executioner reading out his victim’s sentence. “Fifteen for trying to leave us, and ten more for not listening to me. Does that sound fair, Satoru.”

“So mean, Sugu’,” Satoru whined, but you could already see a crooked smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. “The poor thing doesn’t even know what’s going on.”

“Which is why we have to make a strong impression. I want her to know there’ll be consequences for misbehavior.” You felt his hand drifting up the length of your spine, lingering on the sensitive junction between your shoulder blades. “Twenty-five, okay, princess? I’m going to need you to count for me – if you lose track, we’ll have to start over.”

“Suguru, ‘toru, I don’t—I don’t understand what—” You were cut off by a sudden, bruising blow to the plush of your ass – all force, no friction. It took you a second to realize that it was Suguru’s hand, another to consciously acknowledge that he’d spanked you. Like you were some bratty toddler. Like he wanted to hurt you.

It took another lash to know you out of your spell-bound state and send a keening, pitchy cry spilling past your lips. The tears you’d managed to hold back minutes ago were back in full-force, dripping down your cheeks and pooling on your chin, accompanied by the occasional sniffle or ragged sob. Suguru hummed, but any sympathy he might’ve had remained unexpressed, hidden behind a thick veil of strict impassivity. “I need you to count. I know it’s hard, but it’ll only get more difficult if you don’t cooperate.” He paused, clicked his tongue. “We’re still on one. Are you going to be good, or do I have to get the belt?”

“Hurts, Suguru, you’re hurting—”

Another blow, this one to the back of your thighs and twice as harsh as the first two. Meekly, you mumbled a weak “…one.”

You couldn’t see past your own tears by the fifth strike, and by the tenth, you were sobbing openly. Each blow leaves your skin burning and your ass pulsing, but despite everything, he was far from brutal. His pace was measured, precise, and he was strategic – careful to never abuse the same spot to the point of numbness. After the fifteenth, you sniffled and forced yourself to raise your head, meeting Satoru’s eyes and silently pleading for his pity, for his help. Rather than empathy, you found a glassy stare and his hand in his lap, pumping idly over his cock. A few hours ago, you could picture yourself teasing him for not being able to go a full minute without someone touching him, even himself. Right now, the sight alone was enough to make bile rise into the back of your throat.

His thumb ran over your cheek, his palm settling under your chin and tilting your head back. “Don’t give me that look. This is twice as gentle as he’s ever been with me.”

By the time it was over, you were near-inconsolable, every number followed immediately by a string of distorted gibberish, a disjointed plea for him to stop, or be gentle, or let you go. You laid limp across Suguru’s lap as he drew slow, tender patterns into your abused flesh, every little touch sparking a new kind of pain, dragging another ragged sob up from somewhere deep and visceral in your chest. He was talking to you, cooing sweet nothings, but you couldn’t hear him. You didn’t want to hear him. You wanted to leave.

But, you couldn’t, and even if you’d had the strength to try, you wouldn’t have gotten very far. You hadn’t seen him move, but at some point, Satoru must’ve left the room. When your crying began to wane and you could bare the thought of opening your eyes, you found him standing in front of you, holding a glass of water in one hand and three white pills in the other. “Open up,” he said, drawing out each syllable for a beat longer than he really had to. “It’ll help with the pain, promise.”

You pursed your lips, grit your teeth, but Suguru’s thumb pressed into a fresh bruise and fear immediately overwhelmed your sense of caution. Suguru took precious seconds to reposition you – drawing you up by your shoulders to straddle his thigh – and Satoru’s hand found its way back to your cheek, his thumb tapping your bottom lip and slipping onto your tongue as you, reluctantly, opened your mouth. The pills were first, allowed to sit on your tongue until their bitterness reached the back of your throat, then the water, poured sloppily enough for the excess to spill out of the corners of your mouth. The reaction was instantaneous – a wave of nausea, then fatigue, your eyes immediately too heavy to keep open, your body too distant to justify attempting to control. You went slack, falling against Suguru, and he chuckled, bowing his head.

The last thing you felt was his mouth against your throat before everything went numb.

You woke up hours later, tucked into a bed that wasn’t yours and in more pain than you’d ever felt before.

Shock and terror startled you into consciousness before you could so much as attempt to fade back into blissful oblivion. You tried to curl up, to make yourself as small and as safe as possible, but your leg caught on something – a leather cuff, discovered after throwing the sheets that’d been laid over you to the side. A shackle, lined in velvet and sitting loosely at the base of your ankle, a silver chain connecting it to an unseen point underneath the bed. You gave it another tug, just to check, and unsurprisingly, it refused to budge. You choose to look away before the pit quickly opening up inside of your chest could deepen any further.

Instead, you turned your attention outward – to the rest of the bedroom. It wasn’t the one you shared with Satoru and Suguru, or the undecorated guestroom Satoru had semi-converted into a home office. The walls were a pale pink, the shelves already stocked with stuffed animals, fairy lights, jewelry boxes that (knowing Satoru) were no doubt filled to the brim. You weren’t wearing Suguru’s shirt anymore, either. Your blood ran cold as you glanced down and found yourself in a pastel blue nightgown – all lace and silk and frills no one could ever hope to actually sleep in. You didn’t know whether to be disgusted that they’d re-dressed you while you were unconscious, without your permission, or thankful they hadn’t waited until you were awake enough to try and stop them.

Seconds seemed to move in thick, dripping clumps. You couldn’t be sure how long passed until your disoriented stillness was interrupted, but by the time the plain, white door (a neat row of undone deadbolts visible above to the knob) swung open, Satoru stepping through with Suguru following shortly behind him. Automatically, you started to move towards them, but caught yourself, pressing you back into the headboard and crossing your arms over your chest, as if that gave you any kind of authority. As if there was any authority you could have, chained to the floor in the bedroom of a pre-schooler.

“You were beginning to worry us,” Suguru started, sitting on the foot of the bed. “But, then again, our little princess was always a delicate one, wasn’t she?”

You stiffened, bristled. You opened your mouth, but closed it as Satoru draped an arm over your shoulders, collapsing next to you. “Here,” he said, holding something out. “Suguru wanted to make you ask, but I’m not that stingy.”

You attempted to shift away from him, but Satoru had never made things that easy. He clung to you that much tighter as your eyes fell to his hand, finding—

A cup.

A sippy cup, pink and plastic and decorated with little, glittering clouds.

The nausea was immediate, nearly overwhelming. You wanted to vomit. You wanted to throw it across the room. You wanted to do anything but accept it, but your throat was bone-dry, a steady throbbing already begging to root in the back of your skull. Wordlessly, you snatched it out of his hand and (with more than a little strain) pulled off the lid, drinking as quickly as you could. Satoru’s nails scraped against your bicep, but neither of them commented.

Suguru waited until you were finished to go on. “You’ll get used to it, after a few weeks. It’s really not that different from our prior relationship, just a few aesthetic changes ‘toru and I thought a—” He paused, grinned. “—softer environment might suit you.”

“We can be more honest now, too.” Satoru sounded too giddy, too happy. “Those last couple of days practically killed me – having to watch you leave the apartment, acting all independent n’ shit. This way, there won’t be anything stopping us from keeping you all to ourselves.”

A beat passed in silence. It took you a moment to realize you were supposed to say something, and another to actually open your mouth, to find your voice when all you wanted to do was shrivel up and shut your eyes. “I don’t really understand what’s going on,” you muttered, like that would make it true. Like enough stuttering, simpering obliviousness would be what made them change their minds. “When are you going to let me go?”

Beside you, you heard Satoru try and fail to suppress a breath of a laugh, and Suguru’s grin only seemed to widen.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere jjk #jjk x reader #jjk imagines #gojo satoru x reader #yandere gojo satoru #yandere geto suguru #geto suguru x reader

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caramelkoo · 30 days ago

Text

before we shatter — jjk [one]

genre : established relationship, idol!jungkook

word count : 6k

summary : dating an idol is fun, they said. having a family with one is fun, they said. Until you're falling face forward because of your reality. A reality where Jungkook dreams of a future and a reality where your own future is collapsed.

chapter warnings : nsfw, strong language, mature content, fluff, so much angst, smut, talks of infertility, clit sucking, fingering, Jungkook worships her, dirty talk, doggy style, reader is in so much pain i love her sm, fall vibes <33, gift giving as a love language, pussy slapping with his d, big dick energy, jungkook is desperate. that's about it please mention if i missed anything.

read part two here

a/n : based on this ask so thank you anon for coming forward and giving me a chance to write this. i also wanna mention that im no doctor so please forgive me if i didn't do the topic of infertility justice. the second part gives more clarity in their case so please be kind to wait. enjoy and im v v grateful for you. you're so loved.

When you were a child, barely five, an orange butterfly came flying outside your front door. Your mom told you about it since she saw it first causing your entire face to instantly light up like the fourth of july.

An inexplicable joy filled your whole body making your day ten times better, not that you were having a bad one. A five year old can’t have a bad day whatsoever.

After you were done chasing it around, secretly hoping that it would land on your nose just the way they show on television, you had to let it go and head back inside.

Oddly enough the next morning you saw it again, this time it was not flapping its wings like it had last night, instead it was sitting on the window beside the door. Quiet and still.

You, ever so curious, had to ask your mom about it. “It might find comfort there,” she said.

Up until you met your boyfriend you had spent the majority of your time wondering where your comfort place is, what is that one place where you can just be yourself and not pretend to be some stoic woman. A place which lets you cry whenever you want but also replaces those tears with wide smiles and loud giggles.

Turns out, it’s your boyfriend’s arms.

It’s true. Jungkook with his kind, sparkly bambi eyes and bunny smile stole your damn heart a few years ago and is not willing to give it back. Although you can’t complain, in a world where people can’t seem to find the one for themselves, the angels up there granted you a guy every inch a gentleman. Safe to say it’s not one like one of those titular relationships you've come across.

He’s your solace, a roof where you can safely just about exist.

He heals you.

Dating an Idol comes with several perks, the biggest one of those being dealing with the huge amount of selective criticism. You feel hurt, of course, but when you’re with Jungkook, they are nothing but words behind a pixel. A pain that only lasts momentarily.

This pain though, is not as mundane. This one is making your stomach twist in apprehension. You’ve lost the count of how many deep breaths you’ve taken.

“I’m afraid this is a case of infertility miss _____” the doctor says, earning your attention.

You’re not able to form a word, however that does nothing to stop your subconscious mind from screaming, I knew it.

Being stupid enough to think you were well prepared to hear her say this, you mustered up the courage to enter the four walled white space which, at that time, didn’t feel as narrow as it does now. It’s almost as if it’s closing up on you.

Only after you sat before the woman in white coat and bad news, did you realize how gut wrenching this actually feels.

You face her with a weak smile, one that doesn’t actually reach your eyes, “Are- are you sure you’re not mistaken?”

Dr. Ana leans forward, resting her forearms on the table. The move itself tells you more than you need to. “Miss _____, I know it’ll be hard for you to come to terms with this but I suggest you try. I would also like to tell you, and I hope I’m not overstepping, but you can always go with adoption. The options are endless.”

Your throat feels awfully dry and you gulp. “Thank you uh, can I ask you for a favor?”

“Anything”

“If you happen to cross paths with Jungkook, please don’t mention anything about this to him.”

Dr. Ana flashes you a kind smile, “Of course not ____. It’s your personal matter. I wouldn’t dare.”

“Thanks a lot.”

With one last nod you excuse yourself from her office. Your phone buzzes inside your pocket and you take it out, seeing Jungkook’s number stare up at you.

“Hey”

“Hey, my love. Are you busy?” His voice nearly brings tears to your eyes. It also brings up a question. Will he act the same towards you after you tell him where you are and what you just heard? Will his voice be filled with the same amount of excitement and affection for you?

“No, honey. I’m actually at my sister’s place. She was craving some alone time with her husband and asked me to babysit Coco”

You can visualise him awing already. Jungkook has grown attached to your sister’s daughter a little too much. His bond with Coco is just so bright it makes you wonder if they happened to be an actual father and daughter duo in the past life. They’re both full of beans and it’s a delight to see them both together.

He chimes, “Ah my little Coco bean. Is she near? Let me hear my angel.”

Pinching the bridge of your nose, you try to come up with any transitory excuse that doesn’t make you run for the hills. “She’s sleeping right now. Made me work for it but I managed to settle her down”

Jungkook moans from the other side of the line and you mentally curse yourself. Not only are you lying through your teeth but also using your innocent niece as a pawn. From the day you began dating Jungkook, you’ve not looked at any other man. For the first time now, you have this nagging feeling as though you’re cheating on him.

“Well, alright next time then. When are you coming back home?”

“As soon as they do. Do you miss me already?” I tease.

“Pfft me and miss you? Impossible”

You gasp, the audacity of this boy. “How rude!!”

Your goofy boyfriend dares to chuckle, “I carry you with me everywhere I go, love. It’s hard to miss someone who’s this close to you every time of the day.”

It doesn’t take you long to grasp what he is referring to. The heart shaped bracelet rests proudly on his wrists and the man had refused to take it off ever since you gifted it to him. A sense of longing already creeps up in your heart, twisting it until you run out of breath.

Your chest expands as you fill it with much needed air, “Listen, honey I’ll give you a call soon yeah? I think Coco has woken up and I must go check if she needs something,” you fake a chuckle, “You know how she gets when she’s irritated”

“Oh yes of course. Promise to give me a call soon?”

This time the smile on your face is genuine, “I promise”

“Give Coco a kiss for me. I love you.”

“I love you.”

There’s a heavy weight on your chest as soon as you hang up the call. Maybe it has always been there. So, for a couple of minutes you just stand there in the hallway of the hospital taking in the sterile smell and worrisome patients, praying that the highest power up there gives you one last chance so you could try and fix what’s been ruined.

The commotion around you does nothing to overtake the voices in your head and sadness fires through you as you feel like you’re burning your boats. Despite all of that, you pray for one last time, this time for again being strong enough to let go.

Let go of your happiness.

Let go of your salvation.

Let go of your comfort.

Let go of Jungkook.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

You click the door shut behind you, hanging the coat on the rack. You’re not even done turning around when a muscular arm wraps around your abdomen and you’re pulled back against a taut chest.

“I missed you” his voice is muffled against your jumper.

You run your palms over Jungkook’s forearm, stopping to interlace your fingers with his.The way his hands fit with yours is adorable to you as if they were made to do so. The bracelet on his wrist is cool against your skin and you smile. “You know what’s funny? This guy I talked to earlier said it’s impossible for him to miss me”

He rests his chin on top of your shoulders, cheeks warm against yours. He has grown out a stubble which makes him look manlier for some reason and you can’t stop caressing it with your fingers whenever you cup his face.

“You’re talking to other guys?” If you hadn’t known Jungkook better than himself, you would have missed the pout of his lips when he said that.

You turn your face and place a sloppy kiss on his cheekbones, “Only my favourite guy in the whole world.”

He breaks out in a toothy grin and holds your gaze. “You’re my favourite girl too but I think you already know that.”

You nod but the pang of guilt is still lingering in your heart. “Still love hearing it.”

Jungkook releases you from his embrace and walks back, rounding the kitchen counter until he’s holding up a large bowl. “Ready for our fall ritual?”

Jungkook and you have been using your mum’s recipe to bake chocolate chip cookies every fall and while you enjoy baking with him, the thing that you take the most pleasure from is his face when he munches on the first cookie.

It’s one of your favorite sights ever. It takes quite a bit of effort to bake them but hell if you wouldn’t do it all over again just to see him close his eyes and moan like it is the best thing since sliced bread.

You join him behind the counter and look around. From the way the batter has already been prepared you suppose he’s been at it for a while. There are some chocochips in a small bowl across from you with some cranberries next to them because he knows you like them in your cookies.

“You don’t ever forget about the cranberries, do you?”

“Nope. They’re your favourite plus if you eat well, I can eat you well– ouch,” he jumps, “What was that for?”

You offer him a glare which does nothing to stop the smile threatening to break out of your lips, “Behave”

His face inches closer to yours, “Now honey don’t be acting like I didn’t give you the best orgasm this morning”

Oh well, how can you forget about that? Ninety nine percent of the time you love waking up in his arms while he’s the big spoon but there’s that one percent where he wakes you up with his head between your legs, sometimes with his face under your shirt sucking on your nipples. Indissoluble passion within him. His ability to satisfy you with his mouth alone needs to be studied because god if you don’t crave more and more.

You blink, once twice thrice, “You’re incorrigible”

He lets out a cackle at your flustered face as you wonder when you will stop blushing like a fool around him. It’s been years and he still makes you feel like you’re wrapped up in a ball of jitters. Jungkook leans back and straightens up. He plucks the apron from the counter before coming up behind you. “Hold your hair up for me” He demands.

You grab a fistful of your hair and lift them up as he settles it on your neck before tying the knot at your back. With one last kiss on the back of your neck he joins you.

“How long has it been since you began making this?”

“Not long ago. Thought I’d wait for you to come back home and then continue”

You watch him add the chocochips into the dough. His tattoos are barely visible behind the cozy sweater he’s wearing. At the risk of sounding like a hypocrite, Jungkook with his perfect physique and gorgeous face looks good in everything, more so naked, but nothing triggers your cuteness aggression more than him wearing a fluffy knitted sweater, believe it or not. One which you knitted at that.

He pulls your attention away pausing your little drooling session, “How’s Coco bean doing?”

A sudden urge of getting close to him creeps up and you sneak between the counter and him, hugging him as you nuzzle your face in his chest. He smells like cinnamon. He places a gentle kiss on the crown of your head before resting his chin there.

“You smell so good”

“Thanks and she’s as chaotic as ever. Nailea bought the cutest pair of pyjamas for her,” you look up at him, “She looked like a loaf of bread when they made her wear it.”

“No way. Should we buy her another one of those?” he pulls back, barely able to hide the excitement on his face.

“You’re gonna spoil her”

“Damn right I will and if you call this spoiling, wait till I get one of those made by me.”

There it is.

If Jungkook wasn’t so fond of children, would it have been easier for you to cope? You do realize that you’re a stone’s throw away from losing him for once and for all. In the old days you heard somewhere that it takes a strong man to save to save himself and a great man to save another.

You want to be that brave person who saves him from lifelong loathing and regret towards you.

This turning point in your life gives you two options, one where you can hang by a thread and bite your tongue while you continue your life with him, another where you set him free. The latter one wins and you, however, lose.

“Hey you went silent there. You okay?” He cups your cheek with one hand, his thumb grazing your cheekbones so gently you try not to cry.

You nod and flash him a smile. Or at least you try to smile and detach yourself from him. “Perfect. Let’s get those cookies baking shall we?”

Jungkook keeps looking at you with an expression which tells you he’s trying to search for something, but you try not to give anything away. Yet.

He gives you a look, his eyes sparkling under the low light in the room,

“Wait here for a second i’ll be right back”

“Where are you goi-”

“Just a second. Don’t move” His voice trails off as he goes further into the bedroom. A minute later when he comes back, there’s nothing different about him except the sneaky smile on his face. He walks towards you and grabs you by the waist as he sits you on the counter. Your hands instantly clutch his shoulders for support.

“What is happening, baby?” You mumble, clearly in a fog.

He says nothing as he gets down on his knees. Taking a hold of your right leg, he places it on his thigh. You swallow.

He looks up, clashing his eyes with yours, “You ask too many questions, do you know that?”

Seconds later he’s taking something out of his jogger pocket and a cool sensation brushes your skin. You peek down, curiosity finally killing the cat as you see a silver anklet adorned by a pink stone in the middle of it embraced around your ankles.

His name is a whisper on your lips, “Jungkook”

He gets up, facing you as he stands. But not before pecking the anklet as well as your skin. His face which earlier was eerie, now entirely soft.

“Mom sent this for you.”

You don’t hold back tears this time, letting them run free. You glance at the jewellery again as it shines under the light of the kitchen lamp. The pink stone glares at you as if it knows you’re not worthy of such a valuable item.

“It’s beautiful”

He gently wipes the tears away,

“It’s just the beginning, love. I’m not gonna stop until I see a band wrapped around your finger. I feel too lonely being the only one there.”

You playfully smack him on the chest, a giggle slipping free. With a tired shake of your head you admit, “This is overwhelming”

“What is?” he asks,

“All of this,” you keep your gaze on him, sniffing as you continue,“Your little acts of service, your love, your presence and now this gift. I feel like I’m taking too much not giving enough”

Your throat feels too tight, as if someone is just cutting off your air supply when you should be feeling free in his arms.

Jungkook’s eyebrows tense as he reaches for you. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear he tries to reassure you, “Don’t say that. I hate when you question your worth,” he pecks the back of your hands, “These hands feed me, hold me when I need them to, give me warmth, gentle touches”,

His lips find both of your eyes next as you close them, feeling his soft lips on them,

“These eyes tear up with happiness every time you listen to me in the studio”,

Your ears follow next, “These ears tolerate my snoring”,

Then your lips, “And this mouth, my favourite, whispers ‘i love you’ to me every morning, leaves kisses on my skin, screams my name and most importantly, forms the loveliest smile when I make you happy.” His eyes are oh so gentle as he says this.

You’re about to respond when his phone buzzes on the counter next to you. Your heart stops. Fuck is it Dr. Ana?

To your surprise, it’s Jimin’s number on the screen.

“Pick it up, honey. It might be important.”

His thumb presses on the red button as he declines the call, “I’ll talk to him later. My girlfriend comes first.”

Neither of you say a word as the room gets filled with a comfortable silence. The cookies are long forgotten, your eyes doing all the talking. Even if you try your hardest you’re not sure you can say anything which is remotely justifiable of what he just said to you.

Jungkook is so much more than meets the eye, he’s vulnerable, he’s empathetic, he’s loving. His eyes shine the brightest when he’s happy about something and you’re so full of contempt about the fact that eventually you will be the one to snatch away that shine. This hornet’s nest is going to ruin me, ruin him.

“I wanna kiss you so bad” He whispers, leaning closer but you stop him with your palms on his chest.

“Wait, I-I want to talk about something”

His voice is downright pleading when he says, “Later baby. I’m fucking gonna die if I don’t take that mouth right now. Please?” his breath touches your bare lips.

Feeling a flutter in your chest you nod and he leans towards you, hand cupping your lower jaw as he touches his lips to yours. Softly at first, then his pace quickens. Your hands grab his sweater as you pull him even closer, deepening the kiss. His moan echoes followed by your own as you both lose yourselves in each other. You let go of every menacing thought and just focus on the taste of his lips.

He pulls back slightly, taking a deep breath as he fills his chest with air. Those beautiful lips are pink and swollen from the heated kiss you just shared with him. Getting rid of the sweater, he tosses it aside as his eyes sparkle with amusement.

Without wasting any time he begins nibbling at your neck, slightly biting onto it as your hands run over his back. He’s so beautiful it takes your breath away. Not to toot your own horn but you have the most gorgeous boyfriend and you’re not ashamed to show him off.

His lips ghost over your nipples from over your high neck top and you groan.

“Jungkook, please”

He pulls back with a smug look on his face, “Please what ____?”

“Please fuck me. I need your cock so bad.”

“Yeah? Is that what my girl wants?”

At this point your body is thrumming with anticipation and desire as you watch him move his hands closer to the waistband of your pants. His hands pause when they meet the lace material, his pupils dilate.

He smiles, “It’s the one I gifted you. Were you hoping for this huh?”

Your lips stretch into a smile. You hadn’t particularly hoped for this, no, because your relationship with him is not just based on physical pleasures. You guys have sex of course, but it’s not the prominent part of the bond you share. It’s more than that. The lace lingerie set was gifted to you by Jungkook on a random day. It was one of those quote unquote just because gifts.

“What do you think?” you ask, giving him a quick kiss.

He grabs you by the back of your neck and holds you there for a moment before leaning back and looking straight into your eyes. “I think you should lose it or else I’ll ruin it”

You gasp, swatting him on the bicep. “Don’t you dare. It’s my favourite pair”

Without preamble he picks you off the counter making you wrap your legs around his waist. You both are so close it takes your breath away. Chest to chest, groin to groin, face to face with lips inches away from each other’s as you share a breath.

He walks into your shared bedroom as you clash your lips against his, pulling his lower one between yours, earning a groan out of him. You both are downright feral, letting your hands run over every area of each other’s body. Jungkook’s hands grabbing your ass, yours pulling on his hair lightly before trailing down his chest, pausing on his pecs.

When you reach your bedroom, he sits himself down with you on top of his lap. Your hips move forward and you hiss as your still jean clad pussy brushes his cock. He’s so hard you wonder if he’s close to coming already.

Rough hands scrape over your back, hips, down your thigh before they finally settle on either side of your waist, gipping them tightly but also with a hint of gentleness. One thing you admire about your man is that he doesn’t treat you like a fragile woman, he knows you’re strong and you’ll not break if he’s rough with you.

Jungkook pulls back from your lips.“Fuck honey, you’re such a goddess. Look at this body. I still can’t believe I get to call you mine”

You shake your head, totally under his spell. “I’m the lucky one here, baby. You have no idea how lucky I am.”

His hand brushes over your ass before he dips it inside your pants, reaching your already soaked pussy as he pushes a finger inside you. This earns a whimper from you as you tip your head back.

“That’s where you’re wrong, ____. Want me to show you how lucky I am?” He takes the finger out before pumping it back again. You moan as his other hand gips the nape of your neck and he brings his mouth to your neck, biting on it.

“Oh my god” you cry, seeing him suck the finger clean and face forming an expression filled with the deepest level of satisfaction as he closes his eyes.

Setting his eyes back on you, he sighs, “This isn’t my first time tasting you, honey. But it gets better every fucking time and I find myself craving you an unhealthy amount, you know that? Do you know how crazy I am for you? Could eat you out everyday and wouldn’t need anything else to feel full.” His words send a shiver down your spine. “You’re my favorite meal.”

He pushes three fingers back inside with a slight force and you let out a scream, arching your back. He takes one nipple into his mouth and gives it a long suck, letting it go with a loud pop.

“Oh yes, just like that. Suck it again, baby” You beg and he does exactly that as he takes the other sensitive bud into his mouth.

You’re not sure if you have been this vocal about your needs with anyone before him. Not that you dated a lot, for a person who’s a hopeless romantic to the core you’ve always found yourself waiting for the right one. Additionally, you believed your body to be as sacred as a temple. Surely there had to be a guy somewhere who would treat it as such.

Then, enters Jungkook who not only was out of your league metaphorically but literally. He lived miles away from your place so there was not a chance you could have let anything take place between the both of you. But as they always say, the heart wants what it wants. To put it briefly, there was chemistry, a connection you didn’t want to lose.

Strong fingers pump into you. In and out, in and out. “You’re so wet. What do you say? Should I lick you clean?”

“Yes, ah oh my goodness that’s sooo good” you toss your head back, slowly grinding against his hands.

He wraps an arm around your waist, lifts you off his lap and tosses you back on the bed. Keeping his eyes still locked with yours he gets rid of his jogger, letting his cock spring free.

It bobs and you lick your lips, already wanting to take it into your mouth but you know for a fact that he wouldn’t let you do that, not because he doesn’t want you to but because he wants to give you the highest amount of pleasure first. As he always does.

Jungkook lets out a shaky sigh as gives his cock a pull, his eyes running over your whole body. Up and down then back at your face again. You’re still not fully bare in front of him while he’s standing there, all in his glory.

“Lose the pants” he commands.

You immediately slide out of them and toss them on the floor somewhere. He grabs you by the hips, jerking you to the edge of the bed as he sinks down on his knees. Spreading your legs wider he releases a breath. Warmth touches your wet pussy and you prop yourself up by the elbows to look at him.

You need to look at him if you want to stay sane, have to feel him with you here. Shivers run through you even by the thought of not being able to feel him and this ever again. This might as well be your last day on this god awful planet from the way the ache in your chest keeps on increasing. It makes a home there, not letting you entirely forget about the eventualities.

“God you’re dripping, honey”

“For you” you admit.

Hot and wet kisses are left to the inside of your thigh and your hands find the back of his head as you grip it lightly.

His head lifts up, his eyes finding yours, “Don’t hold back,____. Grip it as tightly as you want to. I don’t want any hesitations because when I fuck you, I’m not going to be holding back. You hear me?”

A desperate moan leaves you, and he rewards you by kissing your pussy. Keeping his eyes on you, he doesn’t give you a chance to whine out your needs before his tongue is licking a single line up your clit.

He moans and gently tugs on your clit. “Such a perfect cunt”

You push his head against your pussy and rock forward, chasing your orgasm.

“Feels so good, feels so perfect, baby” you murmur.

Just when you’re starting to feel the climax incoming, when Jungkook suddenly grabs you by the waist and flips you, so he’s lying down and you’re on top. Then, he grabs you by the back of your neck, pulling you for a heated kiss.

He pulls back, “Sit on my face, my queen”

Your eyes widen and you hesitate, but you don’t want to. You wanna let go, knowing you’re lucky enough to get something like this in this lifetime, so you give in. He hoists you up by the hips, positions you over his face and pulls you down. His warm breath feels like a soft whisper against your pussy.

You cry out in pleasure as soon as his tongue dives deep inside you, squeezing your tits in your hands. Grinding against his face, you close your eyes and just… feel. Feel the heat, feel the emotions, feel the intimacy, feel the ache in your chest.

A thought crosses your head and you wonder if you’re doing something wrong, something selfish. Touching him like this and getting consumed by him feels like you’re doing nothing but ruining him.

He sucks on your clit with sheer eagerness and desire, pulling you further down so you’re putting your weight on his face. Concern perks up and you look down, trying not to crush him but it seems like he couldn’t care less.

“Let go, honey. Just focus on my mouth.”

Let go. God, how bad you hate those words. They feel like acid in your ears.

“Keep going, Jungkook. Don’t you dare stop” you cry out.

Soon enough you’re aching your back, cunt pulsing against his lips as you come. He swallows every single drop as if he’d die if he doesn’t and leaves you in awe. You slump, letting your body relax.

Much to your amusement, he doesn’t give you enough time to relax before he’s turning you over until you’re on your knees. Hot passionate kisses are placed on your sweaty back, pulling a gasp from you.

“What a fucking sight. I wish you could see how stunning you look right now and it’s all because of me, isn’t it? This glistening back, this wet cunt,” he strokes a finger down your pussy, “It’s all because of me and you dare to call yourself lucky?”

You catch a sight of him stroking himself over your shoulders and your breath quickens.

His abs are glistening with sweat and his chin still has your cum on it.

He smirks, “Like what you see, honey”

“You’re beautiful”

His eyes soften, letting his hands drop from his angry and already leaking with precum cock, he grabs either side of your hips and lines himself against your needy pussy. You let your head drop on the mattress and clench your fist, preparing yourself for him. He gives your cunt a slight slap with his cock before filling you in, groaning as he goes deeper.

You moan, “Fuck baby. That’s so deep.”

“You’re so warm, honey. You feel like home” he thrusts again.

His hands grip yours, and he covers your body with his own, still thrusting inside with rough movements. His chest feels warm and safe against your back as it fills you with a deep sense of safety, protection and love.

You match every thrust of his with your own, moving your hips backwards. Your tits are getting equal attention from him as he pinches the two sensitive buds between his fingers.

You both chase your high with you screaming out his name and him whispering yours like a prayer. He gives in one last thrust before he’s coming inside you, his teeth biting on your shoulder. You’re following him soon as you grip the bed sheet tighter in your fist, moaning as you come.

Before you collapse, he pulls you upright and lets his cock slide out of you. His fingers push his cum inside your throbbing cunt, making your stomach twist in pain.

You murmur. “I love you”

His lips stretch into one of those lazy smiles you love so much. “I love you too, my precious girl. Now, do you wanna sleep or go make those cookies?” a sloppy kiss is pressed on your forehead.

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders you pull him on top of you, “Should we save those for later? I really wanna cuddle”

He presses a soft kiss on the tip of your button nose, “Sure. Let me clean you up first. You don’t have to move an inch, just relax.”

Minutes later he’s coming back with a bottle of water and a bowl of marshmallows. You bite back a chuckle when you look at his face. There’s such a deep crease between his eyebrows you’d think he’s trying to win a game of uno or something.

But it’s short lived when he places the items on the nightstand and gazes at you, his eyes having the same funny look they had earlier in the kitchen.You try to summon your most unbothered and good natured grin but it doesn’t do shit to stop the electricity from running through your blood.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you ask, biting your lip.

An uncertain laugh slips out of him, “I don’t know. I’m- God, I really don’t know but I have this weird feeling that something is not right.” He begins cleaning you up but you can’t shake the feeling of nervousness and anxiety away.

You know for a fact that he’s right. Something is not right, in fact nothing is right.

He peeks at you from between your legs, “Hey, what is it that you wanted to talk about?”

The air whooshes out of your lungs. Should you come clean? Is it the right time?

You huff a tight laugh. “It’s nothing actually. Can we talk about it later?”

When he’s done cleaning you up he places a small kiss on both your knees and stands up. Offering you a nod, he says, “Whenever you feel like it. I’m not going anywhere”

Yet. He’s not going anywhere yet.

You grin, “I wouldn’t let you”

He lets a laugh slip out as he walks inside the bathroom. Then, he comes back, settles himself beside you and brings you closer by wrapping his arm around your waist. His feet find yours as he touches the anklet with them.

“Let’s sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up” he promises.

Morning comes quickly as the sun casts its glow on your sleepy yet excited eyes. Holding out a hand, you try searching for your boyfriend next to you, but a slight sting arises in your heart when he’s not there. You open your eyes, adjusting to the sunlight.

Although, you hoped you did not wake up, you hoped death consumed you in your sleep because the person across from you is a total stranger. A stranger whose eyes are misty and mouth is pulled down in deep frown, a sunflower bouquet in one hand and the other one holding a blue file so tightly you can see his knuckles turning white.

Jungkook holds out the file to you, “How long were you planning to hide this from me,____?”

For the first time in your life, you hate your name. You hate how bitter it sounds coming from his mouth like this.It has always been “____, you’re my everything,” “I love you,____”, “_____, you mean the world to me”.

Acid bubbles in your stomach at his words, and you can’t help but sob. You wonder if the butterfly was preparing you for this day. If she could talk, what would she have said to you?

The words that leave him next might as well be daggers in your chest, "Tell me, honey. Is it the important thing you wanted to talk about but held back just to get a good fuck out of me?"

@fluttershy-vanilla @theyysam37 love you pookies. enjoy <3

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darnell-la · 2 months ago

Note

how about old!logan with the filthiest mouth one could ever speak, full with nasty and degrading pet names. just rough and mean logan treating the reader 🫠🫠

note: this takes place in the Honda Odyssey… we can make the man filthier by the way…

———

“Well, you guys are fucking stupid, so, it’s not a surprise we’re lost,” y/n crossed her arms in the back seat as Wade drove through the woods, trying to get to the place Nicepool had me roomed for them to form a team.

“You ain’t the smartest sheep either. Batting your fuckin’ eyelids at Jonny,” Logan scoffed next to her before leaning back in his to rest.

After Wade had told him that there might not be a way to save his world, he’s been in a bad mood. Ever since she met him, he’s been in a bad mood.

“Yeah, but sadly he’s not here with us, right Wade?” Y/n sarcastically asked, making Wade sigh loudly. “He should have said those things about her!” Wade shouted.

“This whole trip is fucking ridiculous. Like seriously, Wade. Why the fuck did you bring me along to save this drunk fuck!?” Y/n complained, making Logan chuckle.

“To save your shitty world,” Logan said under his breath. “Hey! That’s my world too!” Wade argued. “Yeah — That’s why I said that shit,”

“Not like yours is better,” y/n mumbled, making Logan snap his head towards her. Y/n continued looking out of the window, not caring how he felt about her words.

“The fuck you say?” The man asked in a clearly angry tone. “Alright, let’s just cool our dicks and think about a place to eat at after we get out of this shit hole, hm?” Wade asked the two, but they both ignored him.

“Nah, I wanna hear what the little bitch has to say,” Logan called the young lady out of her name, making her snap his own neck at him. “Bitch!? No wonder you could never keep a woman. In every universe!” She shot for his heart.

“That’s something you don’t have to worry about because Ian pickin’ a little brat like you,” Logan tried saying something back in an instant like her comment didn’t hurt. He knew calling her out of her name was shitty, but he’s going through it right now.

The man was pulled from his universe being told he had a chance to save it. Not even two hours later, he was told it was an educated wish.

“Not like you can get in my pants anyways limp dick,” y/n spat, making the man chuckle. He was cocky. He always has been, and his age wasn’t going to throw that away.

“You’re an easy little girl. You would even be able to handle me,” the man looked the girl up and down, giving a look that made her roll her eyes. “You fuckin’ wish,” she said before turning back to the window.

“Oh, honey bun, he does! Maybe y’all can fuck it out in here before we make it home. Got a long way to go,” Wade almost sang.

The two went silent, not declining or accepting. They were just angry, and Wade swore having a small fuck-session would help.

Y/n felt eyes on her through the silence. She told herself not to look back, but she had to. She wanted to see the man’s face, and god, was he fine. She hated admitting to it, but he was.

The way he looked at her legs, made her shift in her seat, growing nervous from the older man’s gaze.

“As I said — Little girl can’t handle it,” Logan finally looked up at the girl with a smirk, smelling the way she grew wet in seconds, and she didn’t know he could. She was clueless which made the situation funnier to him.

“I can handle more than you think. Your dick probably wouldn’t be able to stand up anyway, so stop lookin’ at me like that you perv,” y/n tried covering her legs, but there was no use.

“Oh, go fuck yourself,” the man rolled his eyes as he leaned back in his seat. “Do it yourself, coward,” y/n said under her breath. She thought she was quiet enough until his head snapped back at her and Wade gasped.

“Oh, you nasty little peanut,” Wade giggled. “Oh, you want me to fuck you?” Logan asked, giving that stupid smirk again. “What!? I never said that,” y/n lied, trying to think of something to stop this conversation.

“Oh, but you did, bub,” Logan felt like he was shifting closer, but y/n kept her eyes off of him. “Don’t go silent on me now, bub. If you need a little cock to fix that attitude, I can do it,”

The instant confidence he had, made the girl nervous. What the fuck is she going to do?

“Don’t need cock,” the girl spoke quietly. “I think you do,” the man’s hand was now on the grips thighs, gripping it a bit rough to get a reaction.

Y/n turned and swung, going to hit the man somewhere, but he got her fist and pushed it away before hovering over her body.

“You’re feisty for a girl who’s soaking wet,” the man said, confusing y/n. “You can smell her that bad!?” Wade asked, wanting to know if all. “Oh, yeah, and she smells sweet,” Logan admitted as his hands tugged on her belt.

“Let’s see if I’m right,” Logan ripped y/n’s belt off and shorts down her legs, exposing her pretty lace panties. “Logan! Fuckin’ get off!” Y/n fought back, but he knew she could do better.

“You sure? Kinda looks a little messy down here,” the man laughed at her girl as he spews her legs, seeing the dark spot grow. Before she could say another word, he ripped her panties off, making her yell at him more.

“Pretty little cunt. Maybe if you weren’t so bitchy, I’d eat it, but I have different plans for you today,” Logan wiped a finger across her lips before taking them to his mouth to suck.

“Yep — Sweeter than peach, Wade. Didn’t know you had sluts as friends,” Logan laughed again as he fumbled with his own belt. “Logan!” Y/n still shouted, kicking and slapping but he had his single hand pinning her shoulder down.

“Look on the bright side, peanut — You’ll get some dick and maybe that’ll energize you for our fight?” Wade said about anything to hide the fact he loved hearing Logan get the way he gets.

“Fuck you, Wade!” Y/n yelled at the man. “Nah uh, only I do that to you,” y/n almost forgot about Logan until she looked down, seeing his cock out in his head, stoking and leaking pre cum.

“Got me so fuckin’ hard. You know how good you look fighting? How pretty you are yappin’ that damn mouth? Could only think about you under me -- where you belong,”

Logan struggled but made his way in between her legs. “Fuck you! Fuck you, a-and Wade! You’ll last two seconds,” y/n tried laughing at the man to seem tough as usual, but he shut her right up with a hard thrust into her cunt.

“What was that? Two seconds? If I lasted a short time, it’s because this cunts so fuckin’ soaked, not because I’m old, baby,”

Y/n’s hands pushed at the man’s stomach, trying to slow him down and stop him from pushing hitting the right spot with each thrust he gave.

“S-Stop!” The girl whined already, feeling the knot in her stomach build and her breathing get spotty. He was huge and hard. Harder than she thought a man his age could be.

“Don’t think you want that, baby. No, you want me to fuck this pretty little girl till she cried and leaks on the seat,” Logan whispered in her ear as his own breath became heavy.

“God, you guys are hot. Love the play date you guys are having! Maybe give me a review after the Uber ride. Tell me if the seats felt comfy and if y’all had enough room to fuck like rabbits with rabies,” Wade seemed excited.

“Hear that, babe? Gonna tell Wade how good I fuck this pussy? C’mon, tell him. Tell him how hard your squeeze my cock,”

Y/n hated his cock voice in her ear but loved it at the same time. He knew exactly how she’d like it. Maybe by her attitude, he knew she needed someone with the same energy to pound her.

“No c-chance,” the girl stuttered through her teeth as she tried glaring at the man, but her head instantly fell back after he gave one small pound, telling her to get rid of the attitude.

“You’re gonna do it eventually. Sluts like you can’t forget a good cock,” and he was right. This was going to be the best sed she’s had ever.

“Gonna go beggin’ Wade to come get me to fuck you. Shit, since I have to stay in the bullshit you call your world, I’ll just come over to your place myself. Burry my cock in this cunt till you pass out,”

“L-Logan,” y/n dug her nails into the man’s shoulders, trying to hold tight as her orgasm felt near. “Oh, you like that? Like the thought of a dirty old man fuckin’ this so-called clean pussy, hm? Gonna let me breed this little princess whenever I want? Even if I piss you off?”

“N-No, you fucking suck at this!” Y/n breathed heavily, keeping her orgasm together so she wouldn’t give him what she wanted.

“God, she’s fuckin’ petty,” Wade said as Logan let out a little chuckle. The man shifted in the van, lifting her legs over his shoulders before punching his right claw into the roof of the van.

Y/n jumped, not used to having a mutant like him around. “Don’t worry, princess. I wouldn’t hurt a pretty girl like you. Too valuable and tight,” Logan grabbed between the back of y/n’s head and neck to lift her to, fixing her to lean into him.

“Before I fuck you ass dumb, do you want to take anything you said back?” Logan looked down at the girl whose legs rested on his shoulder and cock grazed her entrance, waiting to be squeezed again.

“You fuck like a dead pig,” y/n spat. Right after, the man took one good slam into her, watching her legs part and scream. Logan pulled her head back up, making her look into his dark eyes.

“Loudmouth for a loud screamer,” the man smirked before moving his hips, thrusting into the girl with all the strength he had. He pulled her back to life whenever she tried pushing away or leaning her head back.

“Good fuckin’ pussy — Fuck! — Maybe I’ll excuse that bitch tone of yours,” the man couldn’t deny his could she felt and sounded.

Before, y/n thought she could hold herself in, but she knew Logan would get what he wanted in this new angle and harder pounding. He knew this from the start.

“C’mon, bub — I know you wanna cum. Keep squeezing around me like I wouldn’t notice,” he laughed at her. Teasing he. “N-Not cumming,” y/n assured the man, but even Wade didn’t believe her.

“I can see how the man has you in a full-on butter-salted pretzel position. You’re cumming, peanut,” Wade said, only egging Logan on knowing anyone who looked at her right now could tell she was close.

“No, I’m not!” Y/n pathetically whined. Logan leaned down to the girl's face, slightly touching her lips as his hot breath burned her nostrils.

“Don’t cum then, bub,” Logan said as he picked up his pace. “Don’t cum, and you win. You win your little bitch fight, and we can move on with our day,” Logan kept increasing.

“Don’t cum, and you’re right about my limp old dick,” Logan now growled. “Don’t cum, and I won’t come into your little home and eat that pussy,” y/n eyes rolled back as his hands dug into the back of her neck.

“Don’t cum, and I won’t fuck you like this every day to satisfy your needs, baby. Don’t cum, and I’ll have to leave this pretty little body alone forever,”

“Can’t breed it. Can’t kiss it. Can’t pound it. Can’t do anything I want to it,” y/n whined loudly at the man’s words, finally releasing the man’s cock.

“That’s what I fuckin’ thought. You need me. You fuckin’ want this old dick,” Logan’s lips crashed into her, kissing her roughly as she cried at the pace he kept ducking her in.

“Goddam, she cums a lot!” Wade said with excitement, loving the animal coming out of Logan. He knew y/n needed something like this in his life. That totally isn’t the reason why he brought her along.

“So fuckin’ good, baby. Best fuckin’ cunt I’ve fucked. So damn tight and sweet. Need you after all this. Needa have you with me forever,”

Y/n didn’t plan for this to happen. She doesn’t plan to let Logan fuck her like this in the back of Nicepools Honda Odyssey. She didn’t plan for Logan to form an attachment issue with her.

“Gonna cum, baby. Gonna fill this girl up. Gonna keep you with me forever. Can’t leave. Don’t care how old I am, you belong with me. You’re made for me. Pussy’s molded to only take my cock,”

Logan’s hips bucked a few times before he pushed all the way into the young girl, spilling into her with a loud animalistic groan.

The top of the roof was ripped with how many times his claws punched in and out of it. Logan’s fingers bruised the back of y/n’s neck. Her lips even have a small scratch from the hard he kissed. She tastes so fucking good.

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kaijutegu · 1 year ago

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Beating the Heat while Fat: A Summer Survival Guide

Summer is (almost) here and it’s going to be hotter than ever. If you’re fat (like me), you know how much hot weather sucks. Specifically, we get to deal with fun issues like underboob sweat, chub rub, skin fold sunburn, and more. And while I like to take a body neutral approach to everything, this can be hard in summer thanks to exclusion and neglect.

The thing is that not a lot of people really... talk about these things, though, because that would interfere with our image of summer. Not a lot of companies are marketing their stuff as a solution to fat people’s problems, because that would be acknowledging that fat people might actually want to go outside during summer.

Having been fat for many a summer now, I want to share some of my resources for enjoying summer! These are all based on personal recommendations and things I have directly experienced. Please feel free to reblog and add on with your experiences and recommendations!

However, if your commentary is even remotely fatphobic, you will be blocked and your comments will be deleted. This post is not for you, and nobody is actually interested in what you have to say!

Back and Underboob Sweat

Two words: Gold Bond. Gold Bond fixes this. It comes in powder, stick, and spray form. I’ve used the powder in shoes, but not on my body. They’ve recently released an invisible form of the spray, which I’m very excited about.

Spray this under your breast tissue or other skin folds, or on flat areas of skin like your lower back that tend to sweat. Some of their powders have aloe in them, which is delightfully soothing for the skin.

Make sure that if you’re sensitive to scent, you buy one of the unscented versions. The “fresh” scent is nice, but it is a scent!

When you’re using this type of spray, do it clean but dry. Don’t do it right after a shower- give your skin a chance to dry off. Lift your breast or skin fold, spray underneath, and then hold it for a couple of seconds to let the spray dry down.

You can also use other types of powder, like body powder or baby powder. There’s mixed evidence about talc-containing powder and its link to cancer, but some people do find talcum powder more irritating than talc-free powder, so whether or not you use this is up to you.

Do keep in mind that this is NOT sunscreen! Apply your sunscreen first for areas of exposed skin.

Chub Rub

Dealing with the tops of your thighs rubbing together is extremely unfun. There are a couple of ways I like to deal with this!

Slip Shorts

I actually reviewed a bunch of these a few years ago. Slip shorts or bike shorts are perfect for wearing under dresses or loose-fitting rompers as a way to stop your thighs from rubbing. As a bonus, if you’re using bike shorts, sometimes they come with extra pockets to stash stuff in.

Friction Sticks

If you’re wearing a swimsuit and don’t want to wear shorts, or just don’t want to wear shorts, period, then a friction stick is another good way to avoid chub rub! I have a couple, Bodyglide and Gold Bond.

If you’re buying Bodyglide, they have one that’s just as good, Bodyglide Outdoor, that is sometimes cheaper. There’s a Bodyglide “For Her” which I’ve never tried, but that’s usually more expensive and let’s be real, do you really need to moisturize your inner thighs? I think not!

There’s also creams you can use but I find those messy and less effective than the sticks. You might like them, though! Experiment with products to find the one(s) that work for you.

Friction sticks can also stop foot blisters. Rub a little on your heel, toe, or wherever you get hot spots.

Dealing With Sweat

I sweat, you sweat, we all sweat. Humans were meant to sweat. Sweating’s a good thing. But that doesn’t mean it’s fun, and frankly I hate being sweaty. Typically, fat people sweat more than thin people, for several reasons related to the way we thermoregulate.

Fortunately, there are lots of ways to make summer sweating less annoying. I’ve written about this before, so you can check out that post for some of my favorite tips for dealing with sweat. Here’s some of the highlights.

Evaporative Cooling

A bandanna or other wrap filled with water crystals can do AMAZING things. You can make this yourself really easily- if you can’t find water crystals, you can just use Orbeez. They sell little 99 cent packs of those in the checkout lines at some stores and at the dollar store, and you can make several cooling wraps with one packet.

You can also get evaporative cooling towels, like Frogg Toggs. I don’t like those as much because they tend to start smelling a little funny, but they’re great for larger area coverage.

Using these will help cool you down and will do the same thing that sweat does– without being sticky.

Hair

If you have long hair, get it off the back of your neck. I used to put it up in a bun with a bun former, but now I just use claw clips. They’re cuter and easier! Seriously, this will help you so much. Get the hair up and away from your skin, you’ll feel so much better.

Hand Fans

I always have a hand fan with me, but not one of the little battery operated ones. I’ve tried a lot of those! I even took one up a mountain once, and it was the only reason I survived. But they never provide the same level of breeze that my folding fan does.

I use this one because it’s cute, and you can get cute ones for a couple bucks on Amazon. I do prefer fabric to the stiff paper ones, just because they’re a bit more durable- I’ve had mine for years now. It’s good.

I’m also not a huge fan of those fans that go around your neck, but I’ve seen many people enjoying them. If they work for you, great!

Hydration and Electrolytes

Carry water with you when you go places, and if you’re gonna be out for a while doing anything strenuous, take some electrolyte tablets with you. I like Nuun because I think they taste good, but there’s lots of brands out there.

There’s no one mineral called electrolyte, just so you know. Electrolytes are a group of minerals that includes sodium, potassium, and chloride as the primary (or significant) electrolytes. Electrolytes are important because they have a natural positive or negative electrical charge when dissolved in water. This electricity is how your nerves transmit information and how your cells make your muscles contract, so low levels of electrolytes can cause some serious issues. Different electrolyte imbalances have different symptoms, but common symptoms include nausea, fatigue, confusion, tremors, muscle spasms (cramps), and dizziness.

If you’re feeling those as you’re moving around outside, get somewhere cool, drink some water, and either eat some food or add electrolyte tablets to your water. This will help stabilize you quickly!

Skin Fold Sunburn Prevention

Everybody should wear sunscreen, period. End of story.

But if you’re applying sunscreen by yourself and you have skin folds, it can be a pain to reach them! This is especially true for any folds that form on your upper back or around your upper arm.

These areas can burn and be very painful, especially if you’re in swimwear or a sleeveless top. It’s also VERY easy to forget that these areas need sunscreen!

If you don’t want or don’t have someone to help you apply those areas you can’t reach, spray sunscreen can be a way to get those areas. If you don’t like the spray or want heavier coverage with a cream, then use a lotion applicator!

If the stick style doesn’t work for you (like if you have shoulder mobility issues), the strap style asks for a different range of motion. If you can’t find one that works for you at a big box store, look at a pharmacy. These are often sold as disability aids or for elderly people with a reduced range of motion.

But honestly, one of the most important things about this is just knowing your body. Know where your skin folds are and think about how they move as you’re applying sunscreen. Get underneath them- as you move, those areas can be exposed to the sun, too.

So yeah, that’s my best advice for beating the heat while fat. If you’ve got other tips, feel free to share them!

#summer #body neutrality #i do not know how to tag this #also please don't complain about the length of the post #it's a reference guide a tldr would be meaningless

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ozzgin · 7 months ago

Note

Hello! I just wanted to say I really like your writing style!!

I was wonder have you done a hybrid yan whose darling has a phobia of the animal they are a hybrid of?

Eg wolf with a darling scared of dogs, Naga with a darling scared of snake, ect.

I can definitely expand a little on that! I'll keep it very generic, so you can go for any kind of hybrid you'd like. :)

Yandere! Hybrid x Phobic! Reader

Featuring a hybrid of your choice and a Reader who's terrified of him, but not for the reasons one might expect.

Content: gender neutral reader, hybrid yandere, stalking, monster romance (mild NSFW)

He's been in love from the moment he saw you. So entranced, in fact, that he didn't even notice he'd stalked you all the way to your home. And much too eager to see you again to not return there the next day, and the day after and so on, until today.

Today, however, was meant to be special. He'd planned to confess his feelings and pray for the best. What's the worst that could happen, he thought. If you were to reject him, he'd just return to his habit of watching from afar.

Though he didn't expect you to scream and run away in a panic. You nearly toppled over the ground in your frantic escape, white as a sheet, mumbling apologies that slowly faded into the distance. He could only stare. He didn't get the chance to introduce himself.

That was...not his best moment. That night he turned and twisted, plagued by a shame he'd never known before. Was he truly so irredeemably monstrous? He'd never interacted much with humans before, so he never quite considered his own appearance. Could he really go back to admiring you secretly? Was there no way to convince you? His heart throbbed melancholically.

In the morning, to his great shock, you were already waiting for him in the same spot, just as pale, knees bent and ready to sprint at any given second. You managed to blurt out your explanation: the phobia. He suddenly remembered one instance where you stumbled upon an animal and had a reaction similar to what he experienced. So, you were indeed afraid of him, but not in the way he initially assumed. His eyes lit up with newfound hope: you were giving him a chance, after all.

The first months were rather clumsy. A lot of fidgeting, a lot of sneaky glances, and to his great dismay, a lot of distance. To think you were finally his, and he couldn't even hold you properly.

One must appreciate the small victories. You were no longer a stranger he'd follow from the shadows. He no longer had to imagine what you'd smell like, or what your laugh sounded like, or how your hands would feel in his. You have to take what's given to you, he'd tell himself once he was alone again, desperately touching himself to those scarce memories.

Despite his almost manic neediness, he always greeted you with a reassuring smile. Always asked before touching you. Always apologized if he got ahead of himself. He'd never allow his love to outweigh your comfort.

You jolt slightly.

"Sorry, was I too rough?" he freezes, observing your small, naked body underneath his.

"No, just muscle memory, sorry."

You purse your lips, embarrassed about your sudden anxious reaction in the middle of an intimate moment. Will you ever get over your fear?

"Hey now, is this the kind of face to have while I'm fucking you?" the hybrid jokes with a grin. "Small steps, remember?"

He'd wait forever if it was for you.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere hybrid #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #hybrid x reader #monster x reader #monster x human #monster boyfriend #monster romance

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serpentandlily · 7 months ago

Text

Lost in a Labyrinth - Azriel x Reader

Lost in a Labyrinth I - Azriel x Reader

Summary: Lonely and heartbroken after his near kiss with Elain, Azriel finds himself at the door to the most exclusive pleasure house in Hewn City, The Labyrinth, taking Rhysand’s cruel advice. What he expected to find was a pretty girl to warm a bed with him for a single night. But instead he finds something he never thought existed—his mate. A mate that is tangled up in something far more sinister than he could ever imagine.

Warnings: smut (minors dni), reader is a prostitute

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part I

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

“So you will leave Elain alone. If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure house and pay for it, but stay away from her.”

Rhysand’s words had played over and over again in his head since the Winter Solstice, three months ago. Azriel wasn't sure why he was taking him up on his shitty advice now but by some will of his own, he was standing in the shadows of the alley across the street from The Labyrinth—Hewn City’s most exclusive brothel.

Azriel only knew of this place because some of the high ranking nobles he spied on talked about it often. It was known for its secrecy, for making sure their clientele had confidentiality. There were far more pleasure houses that were known to the public, even one in Velaris, but the last thing Azriel wanted was word getting around that he had been seen visiting one. Partly because he liked keeping his love affairs secret, but mostly because he didn’t want to give that satisfaction to Rhysand.

When his shadows came back with no reports of any sightings of faeries nearby, Azriel crossed the distance to The Labyrinth. He knocked five times on the plain looking, unassuming door, following the instructions he had overheard.

A sliding peephole opened revealing a pair of dark eyes. “A bargain, Shadowsinger,” a male voice said through the door. “A copper for your eyes.”

“A silver for your tongue,” Azriel agreed. He felt a burning sensation behind his ear, the bargain tattoo forming.

This was another thing he had learned from spying— the secret bargain that would grant you access to The Labyrinth. A bargain that he wouldn’t speak of the people and things he might see here so long as they kept their silence in regards to his identity.

The door swung open a second later and the male guard ushered him in. The guard gave him a once over, his eyes stopping on the dagger sheathed on his thigh.

“No weapons allowed, Shadowsinger,” the guard ordered. “Especially around the girls.”

Azriel wordlessly unsheathed Truth-teller and let his shadows take it away. He didn’t tell the guard that it was pointless, that he could summon it back at any time regardless of whatever wards they had set up around here—his shadows didn’t abide by the typical rules of magic. But the guard didn’t need to know that.

The guard held out a gloved hand. “The entrance fee.”

Azriel reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pouch filled with coins. He set it in the guard’s palm without question.

The guard gave him a dip of the head, satisfied, before gesturing for him to continue on. Azriel strided down the dim hallway. He could already smell various aphrodisiacs and drugs amongst the intoxicating scent of arousal in the air. It spurred him on, kept his feet moving on the dark red carpet, not allowing him the chance to second guess his decision to come here.

He wasn’t sure what magic was at play, or if they specifically scented the hallway to further get their clients in the mood, but something was tugging him forward.

He finally made it to the other end of the hallway, where a black door was awaiting him. He opened it slowly, cautiously and when no threat appeared, stepped through the threshold. The door opened up into a large foyer of sorts with a large candle chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

Straight ahead was a grand staircase that led to the second floor. On both sides of the foyer were large double doors with masked guards standing in front of them, swords strapped to their backs.

Waiting for him in the center of the room was an older, High Fae female with generous curves, dressed decadently. A polite smile graced her pretty but aging face as she took him in.

“Shadowsinger,” she greeted with a dip of the head, her hands clasped in front of her. “Welcome to The Labyrinth. My name is Lydia. I will be your point of contact during your time here. Please follow me, I will show you to the girls so you may make your selection.”

This wasn’t the first time Azriel had visited a pleasure house. Gods, when they were younger, him, Rhysand and Cassian had gone to some together. Had even taken the same girl once. But this felt…different. The atmosphere was soft, sensual—not rowdy like the other brothels he had been to.

He followed Lydia into the first set of double doors, which led down another long corridor with more doors lining the wall, all numbered. Until they reached the end where another set of double doors waited. As soon as Lydia pushed them open and gestured for him to continue, soft music crept through the air.

Azriel walked into a heavily perfumed room, dimly lit much like everywhere else in this place. Dark red, velvet settees and cushions lined the walls and floors. Silks hanging from the ceilings gave each space a bit of privacy. A bar was on the opposite wall, fully stocked with various alcohols. Males and females, alike, were milling about the room in various states of undress, some paired up on the couches and chairs.

At the front of the room was a wall made entirely of glass that overlooked a courtyard. Hanging plants and flowered vines decorated the space. A large fountain bubbled in the middle of it. Girls in lingerie and silk robes sat on the stone benches and cushions on the floor, lingered near the fountain, danced to the soft music in corners of the courtyard—all giggling and chattering with each other.

“These are the girls in The Labyrinth,” Lydia explained. “If you would like to see our selection of males, let me know.”

His eyes wandered over the girls, all so beautiful and unique. Every single type of fae was here—from nymphs to firelings to High Fae. But his gaze was drawn towards a lone figure in one of the second story alcoves.

His breath was sucked from his lungs the minute his eyes fell on her. She was…she was so beautiful. The most beautiful female he had ever seen in his five hundred years of living. She was dressed in a light pink lingerie set, a sheer robe hanging over it with white fur trims. She was alone, resting an elbow on the stone railing with her chin plopped in her hand as she gazed out into the carved mountainside within Hewn City.

He couldn’t rip his eyes away from her.

“Are any of them suited to your tastes, Shadowsinger?” Lydia questioned from beside him, knocking him out of whatever spell he had been put under.

“Her,” he answered, his voice a mere whisper, as he dipped his head towards the female he couldn’t help but stare at.

Lydia murmured something to one of the masked servants walking around with trays of champagne flutes. A moment later, one returned and handed the female a slip of paper. She clicked her tongue at whatever she read.

“Apologies, Shadowsinger,” she said, “But it looks like she’s already been chosen for tonight. Do any—”

“By who?” Azriel growled before he even realized, his shadows whirling around him. Lydia looked up at him with a stern look that accentuated all the fine lines on her face.

“You know I can’t tell you that,” she chided. Azriel gave her a sheepish look, not knowing what had come over him. “It looks like any of the other girls are still up for the taking if you’d like to choose another?”

But Azriel couldn’t stop staring at the girl in the pink. Couldn’t help but be mesmerized by her. None of the other girls caught his attention. He had come here looking for a quick, no strings attached, fuck but that desire, that need—it was like it had been sucked right out of him.

“I…” he trailed off, suddenly reeling back into his body. Lydia was staring up at him expectedly but he took a step away. “N-no. I’m sorry. I should…I should go.”

Not a second later, his shadows swirled around him, whisking him away.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Azriel wasn’t sure what drew him back to The Labyrinth the next night. Or the night after. Each time he came, he asked for that girl in pink, and each time, he was told she had already been booked for the night. It would’ve been easy to accompany Mor to Rita’s and find a plethora of females that would fuck him for free. But none of them would’ve been her.

He wasn’t even sure why he was becoming so obsessed with a girl he’d never even talked to. Obsessed enough to travel to Hewn City, pay the copious entrance fee, just to leave when he was told she was still not available.

But here he was.

Again.

Standing at the doors to The Labyrinth.

It had become such a reoccurrence that Lydia would merely shake her head no at the sight of him, already knowing what he was there for. He was sure tonight would go more or less the same. But he was surprised when he caught sight of Lydia standing in the large, intricate foyer and she shook her head yes.

“Well, Shadowsinger,” she said, “I admire your persistence. It seems it is your lucky day. The girl you’ve been waiting for is available. Please, continue on up the stairs and into The Labyrinth. She will be waiting for you behind the ninth door.”

Azriel gave her a dip of the head before striding past her to the staircase. His shadows were swarming him—excited about something. He tuned them out, pushing open the black doors waiting for him at the top of the stairs.

He paused for a second, feeling like he had suddenly been transported somewhere else. Instead of one long hallway like he’d been expecting, the doors opened to a maze of large pillars, multiple pathways lit by candles placed on the floor.

He sent his shadows forward to scout the place and locate the ninth door that Lydia had mentioned. He followed their trail which led him to a red door with a number nine painted on it in a darker shade of red that looked suspiciously like blood.

He let out the breath he had been holding as he wrapped his scarred fingers around the doorknob and slowly pushed it open.

Slow, sultry music met his ears and the scent of pomegranates and cardamom flooded his senses. It was intoxicating, beckoning him forward. He softly shut the door behind him before he completely paused in his tracks as he turned to face the room.

There, standing with her back to him, was the girl who had been utterly consuming his mind since he had first laid eyes on her. She was wearing a light pink nightgown that laced down her lower back. She was bent forward slightly, lighting a candle on a coffee table set up in front of a pair of red velvet couches.

His eyes trailed over the room for a second, trying to gather his bearings. It was a large room, large enough to have a sitting area separate from the four-poster bed covered in silk and textured fabrics. Everything fit the same color scheme as the other rooms he’d been in, red and black. Lit only by candles, the soft lighting only added to the sultry atmosphere.

Some smoke lingered in the air, making everything a bit more hazy. He recognized the scent as a popular aphrodisiac often used during parties with high nobility. His shadows seemed lulled by the music, drifting around him lazily as he stood in place.

He stood frozen as she finally turned around and met his gaze. He had thought her beautiful that day he had seen her up on the balcony, but this close, well… beautiful was not strong enough of a word. She looked crafted for the Gods, a being not meant to walk alongside man. His breath was sucked right out of his lungs again, his eyes widened as his shadows reacted by lowering themselves onto the ground, leaving him bare.

“There you are,” she purred, her voice as smooth as silk and honey. “I’ve heard you’ve been waiting for me.”

Azriel swallowed harshly, his throat bobbing with the motion. He watched her eyes track it, watched how her smirk slipped into a soft smile instead. He opened his mouth to speak, to say anything, but it was like no thoughts existed in his head except for an image of her.

“A bit shy, are you?” She teased after he failed to speak, walking towards him and holding out a hand with well manicured nails. “That’s okay, my love, let me take care of you.”

She grasped his hand in her much smaller one, not even flinching when her skin met contact with his brutal scars. He let her guide him to the couch and push him to sit, entranced by her very presence. She moved to the bar cart behind him, running a delicate hand over his shoulders as she did, before pouring two glasses of whiskey.

She meandered back over to him, plopping on the couch next to him before handing him one of the glasses. She clinked her glass against his. “For the nerves, my love.”

Azriel wanted to tell her that he wasn’t nervous, but that would be a lie. He had no idea why he had been reduced to the shy teenage boy he had been in his youth but he couldn’t shake himself from the feeling. Her presence was overwhelming, intimidating. Like she somehow held his entire being in the palm of her hands.

“Thank you,” he grunted out, his voice rough. He cleared his throat before downing his glass of whiskey in one go. She followed his lead, her smoky eyes never leaving his as she swallowed her whiskey. Beneath the exaggerated desire he found in them was a more calculating look, like she was trying to figure him out.

A bit of the whiskey slipped out of the side of her mouth, dripping down her chin and neck to the crevice between her breasts. Azriel’s gaze followed it, his cock tightening in his pants as he wished to lick it off her gleaming skin.

“Oops,” she giggled, swiping it up with a finger and sucking it into her mouth. “Would you like another glass?”

He shook his head. He didn’t want to be drunk for this. He wanted to savor every second of his time with her, the girl who had been plaguing his thoughts night and day.

“You seem tense, Shadowsinger,” she purred with a pout, making his eyes dip to her full, red painted lips. “I can fix that.”

She reached forward and ran a slender hand up his chest and he nearly moaned at the feeling of her touching him. His hand latched onto hers, stopping it in its tracks.

“What’s your name?” Azriel asked, finally speaking. He needed to know. Needed to taste the way it felt to say it on his tongue as much as he needed to taste her.

“Serenity,” she replied with a coy smile. “But you can call me anything you like, my love.”

His eyes searched hers. “That’s not your real name, is it?”

“Of course not, darling,” she giggled. She leaned towards him, close enough that her breath fluttered over his ear. His cock twitched in his pants, his skin heated. “I think the real question is, what would you like me to call you, Shadowsinger?”

“Azriel,” he breathed out. “Just…just Azriel.”

“Azriel,” she repeated in that voice of silk and honey.

His eyes darted down to her lips again. He couldn’t help it, couldn’t help how turned on he felt. Was it the aphrodisiacs in the room? Or perhaps the whiskey had hit just right? He didn’t care. All he knew was he needed to have her.

Azriel let go of her hand, letting her continue her travel up his chest until she grabbed the empty glass in his hand and set it down on the table in front of them. She made eye contact with him again, slowly moving to straddle him on the couch, wrapping her arms around his neck lightly. He bit back a groan as her weight fell on his hardening member.

“What is it you’re here for, Azriel?”

His brain couldn’t focus with her in his lap. Her eyes were so mesmerizing, her scent one he could get high off. His hands found her waist, the silk fabric of her nightgown so smooth against his rough skin.

“You,” he whispered, honestly. Because that was the truth. He had seen her and knew he needed to have her.

“I’m yours, Azriel,” she giggled. “Any way you want me.”

If he were a better male, perhaps now would be the time he realized this might be a mistake. But he wasn’t a better male. He couldn’t be. Not when her body was pressed against his, not when she looked so beautiful staring up at him with her large, expressive eyes, and certainly not when his body was singing for her—hungering for her like she was the only sustenance he needed.

So Azriel surged forward and kissed her.

Lightning exploded, skittering over his skin, the moment his lips touched hers. He groaned at the feeling of their softness. She let out a small sigh as she kissed him back, melting in his lap, pressing herself closer to him.

Azriel slid a hand up her exposed back until he grasped her by the back of the neck and tilted her head so he could deepen the kiss, finally taking control of the situation. His cock hardened painfully as she spread her legs further, allowing her heat to rub against him.

He kissed her like a starved male, licking along her bottom lip, compelling her to part her lips for him. She let him consume her, let him slip his tongue into her mouth and taste her fully.

So sweet.

So divine.

Azriel broke the kiss, letting her gasp for air. The scent of her arousal had his eyes rolling back in his head. Still holding her by the back of the neck, he twisted her head to the side and pressed his lips just below her ear before trailing down her jaw and to her delicate neck.

She moaned, squirming in his lap and rubbing against his hard length, only spurring him on more. His other hand started working on unlacing her nightgown. His fingers fumbled over the ribbon, until finally, it came undone and fell, pooling at her waist.

Azriel pulled back to look at her, now bare before him from the waist up. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly with her breathing, her eyes dilated and full of lust, her lips swollen. The perfect image of desire.

“So beautiful,” he growled, before leaning forward and latching his mouth around her right nipple. She gasped, arching into his mouth as her hands fisted his hair.

“Azriel,” she whimpered, pushing her hips down against his bulge. He growled again, thrusting his hips up to meet hers.

His lips made a path back up to hers, taking her breasts in his palms as he kissed her deeply. She grinded down on his cock again, pulling a whine from the back of his throat that had her smiling against his lips.

He wanted to take his time with her, wanting to draw this out as long as he could. But he knew he wouldn’t last. Not when the need to be in her was causing him to strain against his pants to the point of pain.

Azriel stood, lifting her up with him with an arm under her ass and the other wrapped around her. He let his shadows swarm them, stepping out right in front of the bed. She was breathless as he dropped her onto the soft pillows and sheets, her hair fanning around her head like a halo.

An Angel.

That’s what she was.

A godsdamn Angel.

He couldn’t keep his hands off of her, running them down her body as he pulled her nightgown all the way off, leaving her entirely bare before her. She moved to sit up, reaching for the buttons of his shirt but he lightly grasped her throat in his hand and pushed her back down.

“How do you want me, Azriel?” She hummed, seductively, wrapping her hands around his wrist.

Azriel leaned down, running his nose along the column of her throat until his mouth was beside her ear.

“First, I want you coming on my fingers,” he commanded, his voice husky with desire. “Then my tongue. And then my cock. Do you understand?”

She swallowed audibly, nodding her head.

“Words, angel,” he smirked. “Use your words.”

“Yes, Azriel, I understand,” she whimpered, the scent of her arousal peaking.

He inhaled deeply before pulling away and dropping to his knees before her. She sat up on her elbows, letting out a small cry as he hooked his arms around her thighs and yanked her towards the end of the bed.

Her sex was glistening with her want and Azriel groaned at the sight, unlacing his pants with one hand to relieve some pressure. He watched her as he dipped forward and ran his tongue up her slit, his eyes rolling back at the sweet taste of her.

She tossed her head back with a moan, spreading her legs wider for him. Azriel didn’t waste any time. He sucked and licked at her clit with a hunger he’d never felt before, his cock twitching every time he drew out a moan or cry from her lips.

True to his word, his finger swirled around her entrance, causing her hips to thrust closer and closer. He continued his ministrations as he slid a single finger inside of her, cursing as he felt how tight she was wrapped around him.

“Azriel,” she cried out as he added a second finger before slowly thrusting in and out of her. “Fuck.”

He continued to suck that spot that had her crying out, pure waves of euphoria crashing through her body. His fingers began to thrust inside of her faster and faster as her moans became more frequent.

“That’s it, angel,” he praised as she rutted against his fingers. “Fuck yourself with my fingers.”

She whimpered, her movements frenzied as he latched his mouth back on her clit, sucking in rhythm with his fingers. One of her hands gripped his hair while the other fisted the sheets and she squirmed in pleasure until he pushed her over the edge.

“Az…Azriel,” she cried, arching her back as flames licked their way through her body. “I’m gonna—”

Azriel didn’t stop, palming himself with his free hand as she orgasmed, pulsating around his fingers with a loud moan. He slipped his fingers out and replaced them with his tongue just in time to feel the aftershock ripple through her.

She tried to pull his head away, but he didn’t relent. He needed her on his tongue, needed to fulfill the hunger inside of him. It wasn’t long before he had her screaming through her second orgasm, lapping at the wetness pooling between her thighs. Azriel didn’t let up as he rode out her orgasm with his tongue, not until her body was writhing in pleasure and she was begging him to stop.

He stood, sticking one of the fingers covered in her juices into his mouth, eyes rolling back in his head as he groaned. “Gods, you taste so good.”

He left her panting on the bed as he made quick work of ripping his clothes off. His eyes were black with lust, his shadows spilling all around him in his craze. Gods, he needed her so bad. Every piece of her.

He climbed onto the bed, hovering over her and crashing his lips against hers. His tongue was still claiming her mouth as her hands roamed the muscles of his chest, sliding down to his cock. He groaned into her mouth as she ran her hand up and down his shaft.

“Please,” she begged.

“Please what, angel?” He nipped at her bottom lip. “What is it you want?”

“Please fuck me, Azriel,” she whined.

The noise that came out of his throat at her words was one he’d never made before. He sat back on his haunches, replacing her hand with his as he guided himself towards her entrance, rubbing up and down against the wetness that was waiting for him.

Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as he slid himself inside of her slowly. She moaned as Azriel let out an animalistic growl at the feeling of her wrapped around him. It wasn’t until he was all the way in her when they both finally released a breath.

“Fuck,” he grunted, falling forward and peppering kisses along her throat. “You feel so good.”

She whimpered at his praise and felt him smirk against her neck before he started to finally move, pulling himself all the way out her before thrusting back in, faster this time. She cried out as he slammed into her.

Azriel set a punishing pace, thrusting into her again and again. His shadows seeped from him until nearly every crevice of the room was taken over by his darkness.

Her nails raked down his back, between his wings as she let him take her. He claimed her mouth again, passionately swallowing each moan he pulled from her. Her hips began to meet his with each thrust, pushing him deeper and deeper inside of her.

“Gods, Azriel,” she cried, squeezing around him as he hit that sweet spot inside her.

“Are you going to come on my cock, angel?” he cooed.

“Yes,” she mewled. “Yes, gods, yes.”

“Good girl,” he growled, nipping at her throat with his canines.

His words pushed her over the edge into the hot bliss of pleasure. She screamed his name as the lightning shot through her, her core pulsating with each strike.

“Fuck,” Azriel groaned. He rode out her orgasm and then his thrusts became harder, faster but sloppy with no rhythm as his own release slid up on him.

His tongue swirled around the base of her neck before an utterly feral growl ripped through him. And then he bit down on that spot. His canines ripped through the skin, sinking down into her flesh as he came, thrusting once, twice and one final time—burying himself in her.

They both panted in silence for a moment, coming down from their highs before Azriel slowly slipped out of her with a small whimper. He pulled away from her and she smiled up at him, her eyes glazed with pleasure and satisfaction.

And then something happened. Something he never thought would. Something he had only dreamed about but never wished for because he had thought it a waste of breath.

A golden string of light unwound itself and shot across the darkness, all the way to the beautiful girl before him.

The mating bond snapped.

His mating bond.

Azriel let out a choked noise, rising fully. He stumbled back in shock, his eyes wide as he stared down at her. Her brows furrowed in confusion and she sat up.

Fuck, his mate…

She was his mate.

His godsdamn mate.

This couldn’t be happening. Not like this. Not after he had just paid her to have sex with him. Not after he had come here for a shameless fuck. She’d never want him now. Why would she?

He hastily began picking up his discarded clothes and dressing himself. She did the same in her confusion, slipping her nightgown back on as she frowned at him.

“What happened?” Her voice was meek as she hugged an arm around herself, looking at him. “Have I…have I done something wrong?”

“N-no,” he stuttered, not looking her in the eyes. Gods, she would hate him if he told her now. She would not want anything to do with him. “No, I’m sorry. I-I need to go.”

“But you paid for the whole night,” she said, perplexed with a hint of insecurity. “Please, if I wasn’t good…if you didn’t enjoy it…I can do better, I swear it.”

He finally looked at her, at his mate. His heart sank in his chest at her words. Fuck, he was making this worse. He couldn’t stand the sight of her looking at him like she’d done something wrong. She was perfect. She had been perfect. It was him who fucked up.

“No, no, don’t. It’s not you," Azriel tried to reassure her. “I…it’s me. I need to go. I’m so sorry.”

“At least let me get you your money back,” she said, rubbing her arm. He felt sick to his stomach.

“No! No, please keep it,” he murmured, buttoning up his shirt as fast as he could. “I’m…I’m so sorry. This was a mistake.”

And then he disappeared in his shadows, her confused and hurt face the last thing he saw.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

a/n: so obvious this was entirely from Az's perspective but it will be reader y/n just in case it wasn't super obvious! Hope you guys enjoyed it! If you asked to be tagged but don't see your username, it wouldn't let me tag you for some reason :((

(also, now that the whole chapters out, if this isn't what you thought you were signing up for, no hard feelings if you asked to be removed from the taglist)

taglist: @itsswritten @impossibelle @lilah-asteria @heartless-tate @sheblogs @jesskidding3 @landofpetrichor @thecollegecowgirl @5onedirection5 @cherry-cin @fayeatheart @brieflyclassymortal @saltedcoffeescotch @glitterypirateduck @eyebagsanonymous @chxosangxl @daardyrnitta

#acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #azriel angst #azriel smut #azriel spymaster

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mctakahashi · 4 months ago

Text

Kenji x Pregnant reader.

Your hair fell into your face as you began to wake up in the dark room. Curtains drawn shut. Covers pulled over you. You yawn looking at the time on your watch. It showed 4:38 in the morning. You groaned looking around the rest of the room, still trying to wake up. Then you turn to your other side. The side of the bed where your husband normally would lay. Although the pillow was gone and the blankets were ruffled. ~where on earth did this guy go.~ you said scoffing and trying to get up out of the bed. Except it was sort of hard with a 7 month pregnant belly. You finally get yourself pulled up out of bed and threw on a a silk robe and began to look around the huge house for your husband, Kenji sato.

First you look on the couch. Then the other guest room. Nothing. So finally you head downstairs to his secret area. The elevator went down and soon you made it to the basement floor. You walk out, socked feet dragging along the floor. One hand on your back. Other on your belly. The huge room that looked out into the middle of the sea was cold. The lights were dimmed. But the room attached to it where Kenji would sometimes go to get away was on. You walked in with a smile and saw Kenji flipping through old magazines while drinking a can of his fancy fizzy drink and leaning back onto his couch. This room was like a nice little living room for Kenji to be alone.

“Hon.” You said seeing him look not as tired as you.

He glanced up and immediately stood up walking over to you. “What are you doing down here?” He said concerned that you walked this whole way. One of his hands lay solidly on your belly and you couldn’t help but smile at his concern.

“You weren’t in bed so I thought I’d come check it out down here, and guess what. Here you are.” You smiled, taking a seat with the help of his guidance. “What are you even doing down here? Doing big bad Ultraman stuff?”

“Come on you know I won’t put us in danger like that.” He said and then motioned to the magazines. “Nah I was really just looking through old baseball magazines.”

“Ah, I still remember when I first made it here to Japan, I wanted to be a reporter so bad that hell. I went to the first big guy in town and got an interview. I’m just happy you gave me a chance.” You said laying on him a bit. “Ooo she kicked!”

Kenji smiled gently feeling for the kicks as well as with the other hand running it through your hair. “Honestly I didn’t think I’d end up with a reporter. I hated so much to go to interviews. Especially private ones. I felt like they knew I was ultraman.” He gave out a chuckle.

“Then the day you told me about ultraman! God. It was like I knew. I mean. I did. I was dating the ultraman.” You looked up at him.

“Did I ever tell you about this kaiju I saved?” He said with a smile, almost a smirk.

“Ugh not another long story. Give me a second I might have to go pee first for this one.” You chuckled leaning in closer. “No im kidding. So tell me what was it like?”

#kenji sato #ken sato #kenji sato x you #kenji sato x reader #ken sato x reader #ken sato x you #ultraman: rising #Kenji sato x pregnant reader #kenji sato fanfic #ken sato fluff

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shadykazama · 2 months ago

Note

Hello! Your headcanons on Wukong/Destined One had me giggling so much 😊 they're so great, couldn't stop rereading.

Um, if it's alright, can I ask for some Wukong/Destined One x Reader with their baby? Feral daddy monkey in his nesting phase with his mate and baby is so— 🤭

Absolutely! I have a lot of thoughts and the people demand more monkey business- so let's get down to it.

❤ Wukong

Starting with the pregnancy~

He is ELATED.

The idea of a proper heir had never crossed his mind because well- he's immortal. He doesn't need one. But that doesn't mean the idea of his own flesh and blood isn't positively exciting.

There's a chance he knows you're pregnant before you do. What with all of his special powers and heightened senses.

Celebrates privately with you of course but it becomes a mountain-wide event very quickly.

You are showered with praise and blessings by all the monkeys.

He will never miss a chance to brag that he's going to have a baby. And he's definitely smug about it too, thinks your child is going to surpass even his power.

When you start showing he gets more smothering.

Don't forget our king's fatal flaw! He thinks he knows what's best.

Will limit how much you travel and makes sure you always have at least two attendants by your side while he's gone.

Which, once you get further along, isn't often. There were plenty of superstitions about pregnancy in ancient China, as well as a high infant mortality rate- and that's not even counting what complications could happen due to the magical nature of your child. So he'd be stressed.

He expresses stress through aggression (canon), though it's never pointed at you. He'd be fiercely protective over the mountain, but especially any of the areas you regularly stay in. He'd be very snappy at everyone for the entire second half of the pregnancy, except you of course, who he'd be showering with praise and reverence.

Likes holding your stomach while you rest and tells your baby about the great lineage they're being born into, recounting his titles and strength and promising them they'd be greater.

He's hoping for a boy, but he's assured his child will be spectacular regardless of the gender.

When you give birth he will be extremely focused. He can't afford to be weak in a moment when you need him most. (Though your cries of pain and effort will certainly make his heart ache.)

As you're holding your baby for the first time, his teasing, smug attitude is nowhere to be seen. He just looks at you as if you'd given him the universe itself.

Cutest baby ever might I add 👆.

It's a Chinese tradition that only immediate family is allowed to meet the baby for the first 100 days after it's born, so it'd just be you and him for a majority of three months unless you invite your family to meet them.

In traditional fashion, on the 100th day a banquet is held to officially introduce the baby to everyone. And MY GOD would it be an event...

Besides all of the monkeys on the mountain who want to celebrate their new prince/princess, I can't even imagine how many celestials and demons would come to pay their respects and blessings- be it out of fear or respect.

Either way, expect a very long day and a LOT of gifts.

^ Wukong doesn't leave your side for the entire day. I dare someone to try and pull something.

You'd expect with his trickster personality that he'd be a very lenient dad, but Wukong is surprisingly dutiful in making sure your child doesn't turn out lazy or ignorant.

That by no means is to say he wouldn't be a wonderfully playful father. He'd have a wonderful connection with his child, and his most important lesson to them would be to respect their mother ;)

More of a one kid kind of guy, so he'd probably stop after the first, unless you had twins or triplets.

As protective as he was with you when you were pregnant, he's pretty chill with the actual kid. He knows they're durable and will let them get roughed up doing dumb stuff.

Carries them around hanging off his tail and will pretend like he doesn't know where they went.

It's like how cats will let their babies 'sneak up on them' to encourage them to keep trying. He does the same thing with your kid when they try to trick him.

Your baby would be the most respectful little shit ever. A little shit nonetheless, but would do anything for you or their father.

All the monkeys on the mountain help keep an eye on the little sage so you'll never feel lost or alone in parenting. It's very much a joined effort and your baby will see the other monkeys as their family as well!

This wonderful piece of Sun Wukong was done by @kanade-howl here on tumblr! They post their work on Twitter as well at @kanaade_ and @_liehuzuo please support them!

💙 The Destined One

Give him a bunch of babies I beg you.

He'd get addicted, he wants a big family for SURE.

When you first tell him you're pregnant he'll probably take some time to fully soak it in.

You'll be used to being patient with him at this point, but I imagine something like this is really nerve wracking so don't feel bad if you rush him for a response.

He'll put a hand on your stomach as if he's checking for himself before picking you up and smothering you with love.

He's not a chatty guy but he'll let you know how happy he is!

^ That being said, during your pregnancies is the most talkative he'll ever be.

He doesn't want you to stress about communicating and knows your body is going through a lot so he pushes himself to talk more to make sure you get everything you need.

That doesn't mean he'll be a chatterbox by any means. More than nothing is still very slim :')

Expect a lot of one word questions.

Trusts you more than he trusts his own instincts. His instincts tell him you shouldn't be climbing or moving around much- but if you want to, who's he to tell you what to do? He's not the one pregnant 🤷‍♀️

Follows you around like a guard dog when you do though, doesn't matter what you're doing.

Somehow even more physically affectionate than normal. Will insist on holding your hand when you walk so you can lean your weight on him.

When you start showing he'll be amazed. It's not that he's never seen a pregnant person before but like... That's his baby in there and he can't believe it.

His favorite thing to do is lay his head against your stomach while you're resting. Will kiss your skin and adore the life you're making.

You can catch him whispering things to your baby while he's resting his head on your stomach.

Your body is going to ache and he is more than happy to massage it for you. He doesn't even need an excuse to touch you, but he'll find them anyway.

Once you get further along and it gets harder for you to get around, he'll pick you up and take your wherever you want to go- within reasonable distance from your home of course. Not because he can't take you further, he just doesn't want to in case something happens.

But he wants to make sure you get fresh air and still see the beauty outside of your bed.

Doesn't trust anyone to watch you. It's him or nothing.

Makes offerings and prays to the goddess of childbirth. He does this a few times before you catch him and start helping.

He's a bundle of nerves when you're giving birth. If you weren't preoccupied, it'd probably be painfully obvious how nervous he was.

Holds you while you hold your baby and will not stop telling you how much he loves you and how perfect the baby is.

Gets baby fever bad.

Baby will be spoiled, and so will any other baby after that.

Huge advocate for carrying the baby. If you're not opposed to it, he probably carries them more than you.

Has the most deadpan look on his face as he looks at this baby but he has so much adoration for his little miracle.

Stressing over your baby crying in the middle of the night? Not with him! He's at that babies beck and call.

Watching a nearly mute man deal with a curious child is definitely amusing and you get a front row seat.

Your children kind of just accept that their dad doesn't talk much, but he'll always tell them he loves them if they say it to him.

Takes them everywhere with him so he can teach them. Is SO proud when the oldest starts helping teach the younger ones.

He's proud of them in general honestly.

Your kids are going to be super loving and curious. I think he'd foster really healthy relationships between all of them.

You'd have a whole team taking care of you if you ever got sick.

#sun wukong x reader #sun wukong #headcanons #black myth wukong #the destined one x reader #I've been waiting on someone to ask this #rahhhhhhhhh #they'd be such good dads 😭

722 notes · View notes

checkeredflagggs · 17 days ago

Text

Share the Spotlight

pairing: charles leclerc x sm admin!reader

summary: an unofficial fan account gets a little unhinged until it doesn’t…

a/n: well I was planning out a different piece and this one formed like completely done in my head so…

a/n2: also this picture of charles is just fucking godlike 👌🏻👌🏻

scuderiaferrari

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, cl16wife, and 2,123,294 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, carlossainz55

scuderiaferrari: and so the season starts!!

view all comments

user1: this is gonna be our year! I can feel it

↳user2: Forza Ferrari Sempre!🏎️🏎️

↳user1: Forza Ferrari Sempre! ❤️

charles_leclerc: 😁 it’s good to be back!

↳user3: WDC incoming! All the signs point to it! Forza Ferrari Sempre!

↳charles_leclerc: Forza Ferrari Sempre!

↳user3: omg I’m gonna faint! 🥳🥰😊

user4: god could they look any hotter???

↳user5: I know right??? Like leave a little for the rest of us!

↳user6: 🕰️ timing it till cl16wife gets here…

↳user7: I was just about to say the same thing 😆

↳cl16wife: I felt a disturbance in the force and I came running

↳cl16wife: holy shit I’m wet

↳cl16wife: just give me one chance I’ll give you head so good it’ll change your life 🥵🥵

↳user6: 🤣 you need to keep it pg

↳user8: girlie you need to get a life

↳cl16wife: I have one and I’ve decided to devote it to being on my knees for the hottest man ever

carlossainz55: it’s great to be back!

↳landonorris: don’t sound so happy you muppet! We were supposed to go golfing this weekend!

↳carlossainz55: Ferrari first!

↳landonorris: then me right?

↳carlossainz55: no

↳landonorris: what!!

↳carlossainz55: you rank about 10th

↳landonorris: WHAT!!

↳user9: I’ll put you first!

↳landonorris: I’m good with 10th

cl16wife: god please just give me one chance 🙏🙏

↳user10: girl I think he might give you a restraining order

twitter

cl16wife

liked by user, user, user and 234,455 others

cl16wife: my man being a whore on main…🤤🥵

view all comments

user11: girl… I see the vision

user12: this is disgusting behavior. Just because he’s an athlete doesn’t mean you have the right to objectify him

↳cl16wife: you’re the one who followed me and this has been the type of content on my page for years. Leave or shut up

user13: I knew as soon as I saw his photo dump cl16wife would be there

↳cl16wife: my man be looking fine as fuck lately. Of course I’m gonna be there

cl16wife: doggy, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, cuddlefuck, side fuck, mating press, 69, upside down, full nelson, pile driver, one leg up, tied up, in the shower, in the kitchen, on the floor, on the wall, on the couch, in the garden, on the grass, in a car, till the mattress is wrung out and soggy, till he molds it to the shape of his dick, till my throat needs stitches, till my hips are dislocated, till my pelvis snaps, till my jaw is locked, till my body is numb, till the wall paint is peeling off, till he’s shooting blanks, till the house falls apart

↳user14: I’ve got something for you!

↳cl16wife: yeah?

↳user14: it’s a bible and a restraining order Jesus Christ

↳cl16wife: sorry only accepting Charles Leclerc as a gift!

scuderiaferrari

liked by charles_leclerc, cl16wife, carlossainz55 and 1,790,469 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, carlossainz55

scuderiaferrari: and that’s how you do it! March and April were made to be Ferrari red! 5 Ferrari 1-2 wins and our Charles Leclerc is leading the championship battle with Carlos Sainz in a close second! Forza Ferrari Sempre!

view all comments

user15: I TOLD YOU! ITS OUR YEAR

↳user16: god I don’t want to get my hopes up yet but please please please ��🙏🙏

↳user17: I know we as Tifosi are delulu to the extreme but I think it’s finally gonna go our way! 🤞🏽🤞🏽🤞🏽

charles_leclerc: ☺️ the world looks good from the top step

↳cl16wife: you look good on top 🥵🥵

↳user20: not on his thread girl

↳user21: boundaries! Are! Important!

↳scuderiaferrari:…👀👀👀

↳scuderiaferrari: anyway! Congratulations Charles! Our il predestinato! Forza Ferrari Sempre!

↳charles_leclerc: Forza Ferrari Sempre!

user18: is this what Red Bull fans felt like last year?

↳user19: yes. Yes it is — I don’t really like for the fact we aren’t winning this year but I guess if it hadn’t be someone leclerc is an alright option

↳user18: you can show some more enthusiasm you know — even max is proud of Charles! You should see his face when he goes to congratulate Charles

↳user19:… I guess

carlossainz55: great start!! Let’s keep the momentum up

↳scuderiaferrari: couldn’t have put it better myself chili 🌶️!!

↳scuderiaferrari: proud of both our boys up there on those podiums! Forza Ferrari Sempre!

↳carlossainz55: Forza Ferrari Sempre!

scuderiaferrari

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc, cl16wife, and 2,590,278 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, carlossainz55

scuderiaferrari: heading into summer break with a commanding lead! Our il predestinato has a commanding lead with Carlos coming in strong at 2nd! We’ll be back in August just as strong!

view all comments

user22: I’m literally on my knees asking for a boring second half of the season

↳user23: no but for real. Let’s do a couple dozen laps of no crashes and no over takes

↳user22: 🤞🏻🤞🏻🤞🏻

cl16wife: I am literally on my hands and knees for this man holy god

↳user24: I am literally spraying you with a water bottle

↳cl16wife: leave me alone! I’m just a girl

↳user24: you’re totally not

↳cl16wife: 🥲😭😢

charles_leclerc: you flatter me 🥰

↳user25: you’ve got this Charles!! WDC incoming!!

↳user26: our il predestinato!!

↳user27: woohoo!! Forza Ferrari Sempre!

↳maxverstappen1: congrats Charles

↳charles_leclerc: merci!

↳maxverstappen1: don’t get used to it however. I’m gonna make you work for it in August

↳charles_leclerc: like you did in the first half?

↳maxverstappen1: 😑

carlossainz55: we look good in 1-2!

↳charles_leclerc: we do! We’ll just have to keep doing it!

↳carlossainz55: ¡Absolutamente!

Private Messages

twitter

user28: and when I say something controversial?

↳user29: I’m sat. I’m listening.

↳user28: I think it’s Charles Leclerc and cl16wife

↳user29: what???

↳user28: ok no but listen

↳user28: whoever is that fan account has been relentlessly flirting and thirsting over Charles on his own page AND ON the official Ferrari page

↳user28: they are legitimately the first or second to like the new posts and comment on them

↳user28: and they haven’t been reported yet! Ferrari reports people fast for that kind of behavior on the official account

↳user28: but cl16wife? They back off at like the exact right time so that they don’t get caught

↳user28: so not only do I think it’s Charles and the fan account — I think the fan account and the official account are run by the same person

↳user29:…

↳user29: ok let’s get you back to bed now

↳user29: NURSE! She’s out again!

↳user28: just wait and see. I know I’m right

charles_leclerc

liked by arthur_leclerc, maxverstappen1, and 2,778,445 others

charles_leclerc: break time means boat time ☺️

view all comments

user30: hot hot hot 🥵

↳user31: yes yes he’s hot BUT WHAT ABOUT THOSE 3RD AND 4TH PHOTOS?!????

↳user31: THAT IS A WOMENS HAND

user32: Charles!! Explain! Yourself!!!

↳user33: since when does he have a girlfriend????

↳user32: THATS WHAT WE ALL WANT TO KNOW!!!

arthur_leclerc: without your favorite brother?

↳charles_leclerc: Enzo was busy?

↳arthur_leclerc: the betrayal…

↳charles_leclerc: 🤷🏼‍♂️

user34: ok but where is cl16wife?? That’s 2 shirtless photos of Charles and she’s been quiet

↳user35: right? She’s usually the first to like and comment

↳user28: I TOLD YOU!!

↳user29: oh my god you’ve escaped containment. Let it go

↳user28: CHARLES IS DATING CL16WIFE

↳user29: 🤦

user36: ok but he knows what he’s doing…that little smiley face at the end??? Such a cunty move

↳user37: right? Drops a photo dump with some SHIRTLESS photos and a new GIRLDFRIEND?? And just leaves us with a demure little emoji…

cl16wife

liked by charles_leclerc, user, user, and 882,445 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, carlossainz55

cl16wife: CHARLES LECLERC IS YOUR WORLD CHAMPION! IL PREDESTINATO HAS DONE IT!!

CARLOS SAINZ IS YOUR VICE CHAMPION!

FERRARI IS THE CONSTRUCTORS CHAMPION!

What an amazing season this has been! Congrats again to Charles and Carlos!

FORZA FERRARI SEMPRE!!

view all comments

user38: OH! MY! GOD!!

↳user39: YOU’RE THE FERRARI ADMIN

↳user28: I FUCKING TOLD YOU BITCHES

↳user40: oh my good I can’t believe you’re right

user41: plot twist of the fucking century

↳user42: am I drunk? Like did I imbue something somehow???

charles_leclerc: chérie cl16wife

↳cl16wife: yes?

↳cl16wife: oh shit

cl16wife

Private Messages

cl16wife

liked by charles_leclerc, user, user, and 1,753,532 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

cl16wife: lol i knew wag life would suit me better anyway 😂😂

Btw he’s MINE SO WATCH YOURSELVES

comments have been restricted on this post

charles_leclerc: awwww 🥰🥰🥰 chérie…any life where you’re by my side suit you

charles_leclerc: and you’re mine too

charles_leclerc: and you made a lot of promises this season🧎🧎 …

↳cl16wife: literally sprinting to you right now 🤤🥵

847 notes · View notes

roosterforme · 7 months ago

Text

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 4 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: As you and Bradley start to blur the line between professional and personal correspondence, you feel yourself falling for him even more. He has charmed your students as well as you, and you decide to continue taking a chance on him.

Warnings: Fluff, language, Bradley sounding hot

Length: 3800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Bradley spent an hour bundling up all of his letters to your students, getting them ready to be sent back to California. Sure, he wanted to impress you, but he also couldn't deny that he was attached to hearing from Oliver, Violet, Jayden and everyone else. And according to you, they were just as happy to hear from him.

Without giving it a second thought, Bradley went all in with your personal email address. An account where he assumed you could say and send anything you wanted to. One that nobody else was monitoring. His thoughts strayed constantly over the past few hours to what that might mean. What did you deem too personal for your school account?

You told him you were single, and you made it seem like you were into him. You said he gave you butterflies, and now he desperately wanted to see this thing through. When he closed his eyes, he could picture the photos of your smiling face, and he felt a little dizzy. He wanted you to tell him everything. He wanted you to wait for him so he could take you on a date. Or several. He wanted to know what your lips tasted like.

It sounded like your ex was a real tool if he didn't appreciate what you did and how hard you worked. You taught eighteen kids enough about aviation that they asked Bradley some pertinent questions and brought up information that was relevant to his job. He was impressed as hell, and he thought he could be better than what you had before. He already knew without a shadow of a doubt that you were better than Vanessa. It was obvious.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw."

He turned toward the voice calling his name as soon as he dropped the package with your name on it off at the mail center. "Hey," he called out to the mechanic who let him take those photos for your class a few weeks ago. He read his jumpsuit again just to be sure. "What's up, Marty?"

He jerked his thumb toward the main deck and said, "I just got around to unpacking some new engine components. You still writing to those kids?"

"Yeah."

"I'm about to do some repairs if you want to take some more pictures or a video for them."

Bradley had been planning on stalking his inbox for the rest of the day in the hopes that you'd write back and comment on his brief missive telling you he wanted the conversation to go further, but this seemed better than driving himself crazy. He could practically picture you and your kids flipping through some photos and watching a cool video he managed to snag for you. "Yeah, Marty. Let me grab my phone, and I'll meet you out in the shop."

---------------------------

After you read the email from Bradley where he called you Gorgeous, you were up most of the night. First, you screeched and almost spilled hot tea all over yourself as you rushed to set your mug down on the coffee table so you could giggle and kick your feet in the air. Then you read and reread the short email for about five minutes, curled up in a little ball with your phone right in front of your face. Then you sprawled along your couch and let yourself imagine what he might be like in person.

It was too early to get your hopes up about ever getting that far, but you couldn't seem to stop yourself from thinking about it. You hummed softly, because in your daydream, he lived in San Diego and asked you out on a date, and he was a perfect gentleman until you didn't want him to be any longer. You didn't even consider what reality might hold, because you were sure you wouldn't like it as much.

But for now, he was on board with going further. Your expectations of things included chatting about your likes and dislikes as well as learning more about him. "I'd like to take it further," you read softly, trying to imagine it in a masculine voice. But what did that sentence mean for him? You sat up on the couch. Surely he wasn't going to turn into a pig and start sending you anything too raunchy. Right?

You swiped out of your email inbox and looked at the photo of him standing in front of his jet and moaned. It was actually your mind heading for the gutter as you wondered what it would feel like to be wrapped up in his big arms. What it would be like to tug the zipper of his flight suit down slowly, enjoying the feel of the pull between your thumb and index finger.

It was like the fictional leading man in a romance novel came to life and told you that he thought you were pretty and that he liked your students. You flopped back down on the couch and screeched into the pillow so as not to alarm your neighbors. You needed to respond, but you didn't know what to say since you were probably past the point of playing it cool. You chewed on your lip while you typed and then deleted several versions before sending him something that you thought was okay.

Bradley,

I'd like to take it further, too. I don't usually do this kind of thing (oh, who am I kidding... I never do this kind of thing), but there's just something about you that made me feel like it was worth the risk. I hope I'm not being too bold if I say that I found the photos you sent me quite distracting. However, it's not just your looks that made me share my personal email address with you. I like the way you give me butterflies. There's something sweet that comes through in your writing, and I want to get to know you better. On that note, if you feel so inclined, please tell me three things I should know about you.

Yours Truly,

Your favorite pen pal

Once again, you had written back to him so quickly, it should have been embarrassing, but you had nothing to lose here. You tossed out the bait, and he took it in the most spectacular fashion. You didn't want to miss an opportunity like this, even if he did seem too good to be true.

But he still hadn't written back when you got to work the next morning. The ping of the email alert on your phone made you reach for it immediately, but it was just a reminder to pay your bills on time. As you unlocked your classroom door and flipped the lights on, you considered that maybe your message was a little bit boring. After all, you were the one to bring your personal account into play. Perhaps he was expecting you to reply with some sort of dirty picture. Your cheeks burned with mixed embarrassment. You wanted to take it further, but you didn't know how. You just knew that you wanted to keep him engaged without compromising yourself.

You tucked your bag and your phone away in your desk drawer and pulled out your lesson plans for the day. You'd start things off with language arts and then work your way through math and science before your kids had art class. There was no reason you had to think about Bradley at all right now; he could just wait until later with his big hands and his thick thighs and his mustache and cute smile.

Just before your students were due to arrive, you opened your laptop and logged in to see which parents had emailed you with questions or concerns about their child. You froze when you saw an email that was sent a few minutes ago from Bradley with the subject line A visit to the mechanic's shop. When you opened it up, you found that he had attached a video and a handful of photos.

You were a little bit annoyed that he didn't respond to the message you sent from your other account where you asked him to tell you about himself, but that melted away as soon as you clicked on the video. His face flashed up on your computer screen, and all of the features you'd shamelessly memorized were right there in front of you. Cute smile, tidy mustache, brown eyes, wavy hair. But then you heard his voice.

"Hey. I just thought I'd take all nineteen of my favorite pen pals on a little tour around the mechanic shop aboard the Theodore Roosevelt. Sound good?"

You slammed your computer shut and moaned, thighs pressed tight together as your heart hammered. He was too much. It was just a video. He wasn't even really here, but he was an absolute assault on your senses. He called you gorgeous, but meanwhile it was hard to look directly at him for fear that you'd burst out into a fit of giggles. You shook your tingling hands out and slowly opened your computer again.

"Bradley Bradshaw. How are you this hot?" you whispered at the video paused on your screen. His face was frozen mostly in profile as he looked to the side, and for the first time, you saw some long scars on his cheek and neck. "Oh." They weren't new, rather giving the appearance that they had faded over time. You wondered how pronounced they would feel beneath your fingers. Would he let you touch them? Let you drag your lips across them while your hands found their way to his tousled hair?

After taking a few deep breaths, you let the video play again. Another man joined Bradley on the screen, and he was holding up a long, metal rod.

"This is my friend Marty. He's been a mechanic in the Navy for twenty-six years, and he specializes in aircraft repairs. He knows more about my Super Hornet than I do, and I'm not ashamed to admit that. So I'm just going to stand here and hold my phone still while we watch Marty do his thing."

The rest of the video was fascinating. It was still interesting the second time when you watched it with your class instead of doing your language arts lesson. The kids sat at rapt attention, eating up that little introduction that Bradley gave just as you had. He didn't talk to them like a bunch of little kids who didn't understand anything, which you loved. He and Marty explained what they were doing without making it too juvenile. Then when the video ended, your kids started raising their hands with question after question.

"You know what to do," you told them, holding out a dry erase marker for Jackie to take. She wrote down the list of questions that everyone had for Bradley while you tapped through the photos, once again imagining how warm and rough his hands would feel wrapped around your own instead of an intake manifold.

The impromptu aviation lesson lasted for two hours until your kids left for art class, and now you were a little concerned about all of the additional, more personal questions you had for Bradley besides the ones your class came up with. You wanted to know how old he was and where his scars came from. You wanted to know where he lived now, but you were too afraid of the answer. According to one of the notes he wrote back to Violet, he went to the University of Virginia. He even sounded like he was from the east coast.

You sat at your desk alone, digging your snack out of your drawer along with your phone. There was a new email. You smiled as you realized he must have sent it to you just after he emailed the video he took for your whole class to watch. The opening greeting once again had you kicking your feet beneath your desk, snack forgotten.

Hey, Gorgeous,

I'm still having a hard time believing that you want to get to know me better. Full disclosure, I'm a little nervous you'll get bored talking to me. I don't have much family, and I know it's cliche, but flying really is my passion. I spend a lot of my time on aircraft carriers which makes it hard to maintain relationships and friendships with people on dry land.

Talking to my nineteen new pen pals has been the most exciting part of my deployment. But you're right... you're my favorite one. I could tell from the first letter that wasn't even specifically meant for me that you were funny and sweet. And then I saw what you look like, and I kept going back to the photo for another look. You're just as gorgeous as you are funny and sweet.

Three things you should know about me? One, I'm afraid of spiders. Like so afraid of them that I might have a crisis on my hands if you tell me you have a beloved pet tarantula or something. Two, I loved taking piano lessons so much when I was a kid, I actually still take them. (Now I'm sitting here wondering why I'm telling you embarrassing shit.) My next door neighbor is a retired music teacher, and when I'm home, I trade yard work for piano lessons. Everyone wins. Third, I like giving Gorgeous teachers butterflies. That's a new one, but I thought you should know about it.

I'm giving you some homework, hope you don't mind. I want you to send me a picture of one of those San Diego sunsets where the sky somehow looks both blue and orange at the same time. If you happen to be in the photo, I'm not going to complain. I would also love to hear three things I should know about you.

Please tell your kids they have mail on the way. I hope to hear back from them. And you.

Yours Truly,

Bradley

Oh. This crush was even worse than you thought.

-----------------------------

After days of running drills, Bradley was finally grounded because of a bad storm that was closing in, and he was given a few hours off. He stood out on deck, letting the first drops of hard rain hit his face. He was hoping to get a nice sunset photo to send to you, but the past few days had been terribly cloudy. And now he felt like he was being torn in three directions as his flight suit got wet: he was sweaty, hungry and curious. As a result, he couldn't decide if he should hit the shower, the mess hall or the lounge first.

He reasoned that he'd best appreciate an email from you if he was cleaned up and well fed. If you'd had time to write back to him, it would top off his night in the sweetest way possible. So he took a shower and unfortunately had to eat cabbage rolls for dinner. He chuckled to himself as he walked toward the lounge, picturing a bunch of fourth graders eating dinner in the mess hall and ranking the foods. They would probably love that, actually.

As Bradley logged in and watched his email inbox appear on one of the lounge computers, he muttered, "Hell yes." There was a new message from you, and he couldn't click on it fast enough. Before he started reading, the attached photo caught his attention, and he grunted softly. Fuck.

There you were, on a stretch of beach in Coronado, not even a mile from his house with the sun setting behind you. Your features were in shadow, but your smile was a little shy and very pretty. You looked so soft, standing there on the windswept sand in denim shorts and an oversized sweatshirt with Mira Mesa Elementary printed on the front, and all he wanted to do was touch you. He could already imagine a picnic dinner on that beach, snuggling up with you as cooler temperatures moved in. Enjoying the blues and oranges until the sky got so dark, he'd lead you back to his house with your fingers laced with his.

Bradley,

I'm turning in my homework. I hope I get a passing grade. I'm not usually the student, so I'm a little out of practice. A Naval officer from Top Gun took this photo for me. Apparently aviators just like you are all over the beaches in Coronado.

I have some good news for you. While I'm not actually afraid of spiders, I promise I don't have a beloved pet tarantula. And I'm sorry, but the idea of you still taking piano lessons made me giggle for a solid minute. The mental image is just that adorable.

You always seem to know what to say to make my butterflies go crazy, and that's just through the written word. As an educator, I always stress the importance of honesty to my students. So let me just say that honestly, I'm not going to get bored talking to you. I also can't lie about the fact that I watched the video you sent several times just to hear your voice. (Now I'm the one embarrassing herself.) And I really can't see how you would have a hard time maintaining a relationship while you're away. Maybe your previous partners didn't appreciate how rare it is to find someone who is willing to put in some effort. Or maybe they didn't find your arachnophobia oddly endearing. But I kind of do.

Three things you should know about me: 1. I graduated from college with a 4.0 GPA. 2. Sometimes I fall asleep during movies, especially if I'm snuggled up on my own couch. 3. I have a crush on you.

Hitting send before I can change my mind.

Bradley couldn't help the smile teasing at his lips as he tucked his hands behind his head and read your last few sentences again. He always wanted to continue talking to you, so maybe it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that you wouldn't grow bored with this. Maybe you'd care more about him than going out on dates, unlike Vanessa. He wasn't going to wait before responding to your email. What was the point? You were into him, and he was definitely into you.

-----------------------------

"We got mail!" you announced, holding up the package that was waiting for you in the school office when you refilled your travel coffee mug on your way to your classroom. Your students erupted into delighted conversation.

"Is it from Lieutenant Bradshaw?" asked Jayden.

"Of course it is," Violet told him. "It must be. He's our pen pal after all."

"Did he send us more notes?" Oliver asked, practically bouncing out of his seat in anticipation.

"He did!" you confirmed as you tore into the package and enlisted Harrison to help you hand the individual notes to their recipients. The room went silent as soon as they all started reading, and then one after the next, the kids started to get out their notebooks to start their responses.

You felt warm all over. Bradley was on your mind a lot, and you didn't really want him going anywhere. You watched the video he sent again last night before you went to sleep, and you dreamed about a strong man with a sexy voice curled up behind you in bed. You knew you had a new email from him, but you were waiting until you could sit quietly during your lunch break to read it.

At some point, you were going to have to taper off the aviation curriculum and focus on other things, but you just didn't want to have to do that yet. Not when your class was so engaged. Not when it made you feel connected to a man thousands of miles away who you had feelings for in spite of the fact that you never met him in person. In spite of the fact that you were too afraid to ask him where he lived.

After you eventually walked your kids down to the lunchroom, you were free to read your email from Bradley in peace. But the more you thought about opening it, you started to get nervous. You already admitted you were interested in him, so there was really no going back. If he hadn't sent you something similar, you were going to have to crawl under a rock, but you got your phone out as you took a deep breath and started reading.

Hey, Gorgeous,

Now wait right there. I have some concerns. I'm going to address them in order, so please bear with me. First of all, you didn't just pass your homework assignment, you got an A+. I've never seen such a beautiful sunset in my life, and yet it was barely noticeable next to you. But here's my main issue. I can't have another aviator taking sunset photos of you and sweeping you off your feet. How about you just stay off that beach in Coronado for the time being? Give a guy a chance here?

I couldn't agree more about the importance of being honest. Honestly, I'm letting out the breath I've been holding, worried that you were going to send me a photo of you with your pet tarantula. And honestly, smart women really do it for me, so any time you want to bring up that 4.0 GPA, I'm going to need a minute. And honestly, nothing sounds better than watching a movie with you on your couch right now. Can't stop thinking about it, actually.

Please, tell me in an overabundance of detail, what you would do if I promised I would take you out to dinner but then changed my mind and told you that I was tired from work and wanted to spend a quiet evening on my couch with some takeout instead.

You have a crush on me? Gorgeous girl, all I can think about is the couple days of leave I'm going to have once this aircraft carrier finally docks back in San Diego. Where you are. You and my eighteen other pen pals. I think I have a thing for fourth grade teachers. Or maybe it's just you. I can't wait to hear from you again.

Yours Truly,

Bradley

---------------------------

Okay. Some admissions have been made. Little bits of feelings have been established. She has seen him and heard his voice, and I think we're ready to keep taking things further. Maybe a phone call? Maybe another photo or two? We also can't leave the fourth graders hanging. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 5

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