❌ Work On My Fic Which Is "due" Friday

"born under a bad sign"

— sukuna ryomen

tags ට yan sukuna, zombie apocalypse au, sukuna typical violence, slight gore (also typical), dubious consent, fingering, petting, dirty talk (are we even surprised), caretaker kink, minor infantilization, wildest backshots known to man, virgin reader

a/n ට baby's first ever fic <3 i've seen a lot of yan sukuna on my dash (1 & 2) and these ficlets/drabbles acted as my main source of inspiration. this wasn't at all how i imagined this to go, but i don't mind doing a second part at all. sukuna's probably occ but to me he's so sickingly sweet to you, and so violent to everyone else.

───⠀౨ৎ you puzzle around the reasons why sukuna would help you, of all people. why he didn't leave you to die. why he goes through the trouble. and then. and then he shows you. (3.6k wc)

the circumstances in which he stumbles upon you are purely accidental. sukuna swings down the hammer, relishes in the sick squelch of bone and sinew giving away and the feel of blood spattering back onto his face in wide arcs and the sight of you going very, very, still underneath him.

you had been so loud, before. screaming and whining and pleading for mercy. you're silent now. he wonders if you even dare to breathe. and that is how he finds it in himself to stop. to pull away. sukuna hasn't seen you yet, and he's curious to know what he's found.

slowly, with trembling, dainty little fingers, one of your hands reaches up to touch the dead mans shoulder. the tiniest of whimpers escapes you, hand spasming but managing enough of your strength to lift up and push the body away.

sukuna lets the hammer clatter noisily to the floor, smirk widening across his face at how you jump, shoulders raised and body tense with obvious fear. he crouches down, blood covered hand wrapping around your ankle and pulling you in to him with one sudden move. you allow yourself to look at his hands, his clothes spattered in blood, and nothing else.

you tremble, head hanging low. sukuna's tongue traces his sharp teeth, content no longer with silence.

"won't you look at me, sweetheart?" he croons, hand smearing blood from your cheek. you tremble and shake some more, ready to burst out of your skin at the juxtaposition of his touch.

but you lift your head. you obey. you must be fighting against every wired instinct right now. the ones that tell you to run. to hide. he doesn't bother hiding the shuddering low moan when he sees you.

"oh, look at you, gorgeous, prettiest little thing i've ever seen" he says, pulling in closer. the blood coating your face does little to hide your shining wide bambi eyes, your full lips, the gentle swoop of your nose. he reaches out behind him, patting around for something to clean your face. "good girl, stay still. just like that"

sukuna's big hand is like a brand against your skin. he cups your chin, turns your head to the side. you make a loud strangled whimper, no doubt having seen what was left of your attacker. sukuna tuts, pulls you back to him, pets at your shoulders and the back of your head until you calm down.

when he turns your head again, you keep your eyes shut.

"wh-what's your. your name?" you say, shakily, eyes darting across his face, pretty brown hands curling and uncurling with anxiety. its clear that you're just looking for something to distract you. it's endearing. you're endearing. sukuna wants to carve out a hole inside his chest and shove you in it.

"sukuna." he says simply, eyes catching on a reflecting light. his thumb trails from the side of your neck now, down to your chest. and the small golden pin pressed into your bloodstained shirt. whistles in surprise. "waseda?"

you nod slowly, reaching for your pin again. sukuna lets you get close enough to grab it and then at the last second, holds it above your head.

his presses the pin back into your palm, and pets at your hair. "bet you would've fetched a pretty penny before all of this huh? sweet little girl like you. what'd you study in waseda, pretty girl?"

"law" you mumble, mouth struggling to form around the word. he barks out a loud laugh at that, petting at your face like one would a nervous kitten. your hands curl into your lap. "do—are you in...are you in school sukuna?"

another loud laugh. he manages to sound mocking and sweet all at once and his voice stuffs your head with cotton. "no, sweet girl. not in school"

"oh." you swallow around nothing again, voice quiet. you don't want to know what he did, before. you aren't sure you'll be able to stomach the answer. silence stretches between the two of you once more, and you know he's waiting for something. "do you have any water?"

sukuna smirks, teeth glinting in the low light. doesn't say anything at all. your mind puzzles over your words, searching for an error. you frown, peering over at him question dancing on your tongue.

he says nothing still. and his hand encloses around yours, pulls it into his lap. he traces over your fingers and up to your wrist, up some more—to your forearm. his other hand reaches for the hammer, still bloody, still wet, as he stands to his feet and pulls you up with him.

you have no choice, but to follow him. you're weak, physically, emotionally, mentally—you never would have been able to survive on your own.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

you wrack your brain, searching for a reason.

before, your family had money. sukuna would have been compensated heavily for his time, for his odd stroke of generosity—no matter the violent steps taken in between. but your family is in america, and you are here, in japan. tears bead at your waterline and you're quick to brush them away but they won't stop falling. they fall faster than your hands can move and you curl into yourself.

sukuna raps his knuckles against the door loudly. waits a moment and then pushes both of you inside. its a bit nicer than what you would assume a man like sukuna—the type of bash a mans head in with you still underneath him—would enjoy. but then it breaches your mind in a moment of painstakingly clarity. you don't know him at all.

"are you going to kill me?" you ask through your tears, shuddering and shaking. maybe sukuna's the sick sort of man you've studied in your textbooks. the kind that like's to draw the violence out, so that it'll hurt more. there's a word for that kind of man.

it's been. it's been days, you think. a week, at most. together, you've encountered a dozen zombies. each time is the same. he pushes you behind him, kills them all quickly and the first time, you threw up. sukuna petted at your hair, crooning softly at you—tells you he'll take care of you. he'll make them go away.

"do you want me to kill you?" sukuna asks instead, smirking. he gestures for you to follow, beckoning you forwards with two fingers.

you shake your head, and then when you realize he can't exactly see, garble out a shaky, "no, b—but why would you help me if i can't. i can't give you anything"

a bathroom is where he's led you to. sukuna drags a small stool over using his foot, plants himself down on it. your mouth parts in surprise when the water turns on, sloshing loudly against the tub.

sukuna hums, tugs you forward—dragging you into his lap. he doesn't answer you, not yet, hands reaching up to tug your shoes off, then your socks. massages his bloodstained hands into your calves, skirting up to your knobby knees and higher still to unbutton your long skirt.

you make a small sound of objection, pushing your legs closed as your breath quickens. "sukuna? what are you, stop please?"

the hand that had been bracing you in his lap reaches down to push your legs apart, easily too easily, and when you try to squirm the hand unbuttoning your skirt hooks around your waist. pulls you back in. one swat against your thigh, underneath the fabric pooling around your waist has you stilling against him.

"just gettin' you clean, pretty girl" he says, petting your sides and your stomach. "gotta take a bath"

"s-sukuna" you hate the way your voice tapers off into a whimper, pushing at his arm again. "i can. i can bathe myself"

there's a snorting sound in your ear, rumbling deep from his chest. one of his hands reaches into your skirt, cups your ass, massages you through your plain cotton panties. and his other hand dances up to your hip, reaches up to hook thick fingers around the bands of your skirt and panties—tugging them down to your knees and then dropping them on the floor.

he makes another amused sound when your hands jump to cover your exposed mound. "you can't do anything by yourself. not if i don't help you"

your mouth pulls into a frown, anger swirling inside you. he says it like he knows you. like its the absolute truth. "that's not true. i can"

sukuna ignores you. like you're a child. reaches up under your shirt to unhook your bra, massaging your small breasts. then again at your spine. pulls your blazer off, then takes special care in buttoning each and every button on your shirt. reaches a hand over to turn the water off, to sprinkle in salts. he's methodical, sure in his movements.

the room fills with the smell of flowers, of almonds and honey. your naked, shivering in his lap from the cold and from the fear strumming along your nerves.

he could break you, but he handles you so gently. you find that your body is as taught as a wire. you wonder how long it'll take for that gentleness to go away. for him to hurt you. to kill you, even though he hasn't said he will.

"isn't that better?" he asks, kneeling beside the tub, washcloth running over your skin. the dirt and sweat and grime washes away from your skin, water turning a murky brown. "i know what you need, sweetheart. i'll take care of you. soft little thing like you, bet you spend your entire life being taken care of."

and then—and then he pulls away. you go to wrap your arms around your middle, thankful that it's over. that that's all he wanted. that your still alive.

your stomach lurches for an entire different reason when you hear the tell-tale sound of a zipper, loud in the quiet room. you hang your head, breathe loudly through your nose and wait. a handful of minutes pass by and then sukuna's hands grab at your waist, lifting you up enough for him to join you.

you turn around, facing his chest. a part of you is surprised that he let you. its becoming apparent to you now that you're going to be doing a lot less of what you want, now. the other part, bigger, pressing, is upset. angry. shameful. why are you giving up so easily? why aren't you fighting back?

the answer hurts more than you'd like to admit. you've never fought back. always gave up so easily. you do what your parents want, act how they think you should. make friends with the people your advisors approve of. sukuna had been so shamefully close to the truth—without anyone calling the shots for you, you're afraid of how little you know yourself.

"i can help" you say softly, grabbing the small washcloth from his hands. really, in all honestly, you just want this to be over faster. don't want him to draw it out anymore. "i can do some things"

sukuna hums, hand reaching out to play with your hair.

he's got a lot of tattoos. and he's big, with huge muscles, hard planes that seem to stretch on for miles. there's nicks, tiny scrapes and cuts and littering of scars everywhere.

"you can do some things," agrees sukuna, once you've finished and the water drains from the tub. he's naked still, and now there water isn't there to hide anything. but he's so large, everywhere, the scent of him filling up your head. "would you like to do something for me, sweet girl?"

you have an inkling of what he wants, and your twist your hands in your lap. you have no choice, even if he phrases it like you do. he could toss you back out there, with the dead roaming the streets, bloodshot and thirsty and eager. so you nod, and climb into his lap, tucking your face into his neck—legs spreading out on either side of his hips when he pushes a hand onto your lower back.

"if you'll be good, i can be good." sukuna says, tracing the knobs on your spine.

you swallow, afraid to ask, but knowing that you must. "you wwon't—you won't let. others?"

"smart girl. good girl, it'll be just me. no other man could take care of you like i could." sukuna's fingers dig into the meat of your thighs, spreads your legs apart to look down at your cunt. you've got ugly hips, like a boy. and you don't shave, and you hope the sparse layer of hair isn't enough to turn him off. you want him to like what he sees. so he. so he can take care of you. your stomach clenches painfully when he presses the flat of his palm on your hipbone.

"you got a boyfriend, pretty girl?"

you shake your head, still tucked into his neck as he continues his caressing and petting. his fingers inch closer to your cunt, rubbing at the outer lips.

sukuna smirks. you can feel it rather than see it. "of course you don't, good girl like you. probably focused on your studies. my little lawyer girl. fuck, sweetheart, you've got such a pretty little cunt. you touch yourself? use your words"

"y-yes—sometimes" you reply, hips jerking as his fingers pet around your clit. you can hear yourself breathing heavier now, and its so shameful, you're dirty—nasty. your parents would be so ashamed of you.

he presses a kiss to the top of your head. it's so so gentle, you think you could cry. "with your fingers, sweet girl?"

you nod against his skin again, but remember that he wants you to talk. to use words. you swallow around a soft sound, trying to close your legs. "yes. but—b-but not my fingers...i tried, and it didn't—it didn't feel, it was okay but..."

god. you hate the way your voice cracks and breaks. how you fumble and trip over words. he must think you stupid now, inept, and your scared you're turning him off, that he might go soft. you clamp your mouth shut, screwing your eyes closed with a tapering whimper as he continues to pet around your pussy.

you're getting wetter, slicking up nicely. sukuna drags your slick to your hole, pets around it. returns back to your clit and rubs faster—at an intensity you would've shied away from if it was just you. a sound escapes you, and you're desperate to choke it down, hips bucking up into his touch.

sukuna swats at your ass, not hard enough to hurt. but a warning. the next sound you make, you don't bother trying to cover it up. his fingers flick at your clit in reward, and then his middle finger begins to press inside.

"there we go, good girl, relax for me, fuck, you're so tight" he sounds like he's putting his cock in your...in your cunt. and not, not his fingers. you whimper, nails pricking into his skin when his thumb returns to your clit. he pulls out, presses back in, other hand guiding your hips down into a slow rhythm. "that feel good?"

"yyeah" you sigh, making another high noise when a second finger presses in next to the first. he's speeding up now, and the sound of slick spurting out of your cunt, his fingers slamming up into your hole, stretching you out and its so—its so dirty but he isn't stopping, and had your nails dig into the meat of his shoulders. he's reminded of a cat sticking its nails into its owner, and thats you, you're his little kitten, gushing slick all over his hands, making little uhuhuh noises, endless whimpers and gasps of his name. "su-su'kuna, 'kuna! ohhh, uh, uh—'kuna"

sukuna throws his head back, cock so hard its throbbing. like he could cum. like he could cum and all he's got is two fingers inside your weeping cunny. if you sound like this now, if you're arching like this now, hips bucking up and legs kicking like this now—

"fuck baby, thereee you go" he goads, thumb reaching up to massage at your clit. the coil in your lower belly tightens up, faster and faster and sweat burns down your neck and you can tell you're about to come and you try to—you try to get the words out, hand that was previously clawing at his skin reaching down to try and push his hand away. but sukuna's stronger than you, not stopping, grunting out in your ear "can't wait to get inside this cunt. gonna fuck her so good, gonna give my sweet girl what she needs, shit, baby, listen to you, sound so pretty—you're such a good girl. gonna cream around me so good. go ahead and cum pretty, let go, i'll take care of it"

that feeling draws up, tighter and tighter and to fight back a scream, you bite down on his neck, panting wetly against his skin. your legs kick out, squirming wildly in his lap and your orgasms crashes into you like a freight train.

sukuna—he. he keeps his promise. takes care of it, talks you through it, fingers still pumping inside and stretching you out. presses sweet kisses to the side of your face, doesn't even seem to feel your teeth digging in, free hand running up and down your spine. laughs, whenever you seem to come back to it.

his hand reaches up, pats your ass softly. "on your stomach baby, good girl"

it would have been harder, you think, if you hadn't already cum. but you're pliant, going easily to your stomach. you can feel his hands, hot like firey brands, pulling you up to your knees, gripping tightly onto your hips. he cants his cock up against your pussy, swipes it through your slick before reaching down to guide it inside.

your mouth parts on a loud moan, eyes rolling into the back of your head. he's so much bigger than his fingers, wide and girthy—filling you up so well. he pulls out, pushes in a little more, repeats the process until his balls push up against your ass with a soft smack that has you both groaning out.

his hands fall back to your hips, pulling all the way out before slamming back in. you let out a loud yelp, almost pained, sensitive from just cumming and he's thrusting into you with short, hard jerks of his hips, cock hitting your sweet spot so well, breaths coming out of you in aborted little gasps. you fall forwards into the pillows, moaning louder now and sukuna doesn't slow down—but he speeds up, goes harder, grunting softly underneath your whiny and wet noises.

"ffffuck, fuck, baby, yeah. good fucking girl. knew this'd be the tightest little cunt. squeezin me so tight, pretty girl" pours the dirty words from his mouth as his balls smack loudly against your ass. your cunt squelches, so wet from your orgasm and getting wetter still. your hands fly to his arms, whining, pushing blindly at him. its too much, too fast—you can't take it, and you whine again, hands clawing at the sheets trying to—"no, no, fuck. don't run from it baby. c'mon you can take it, i know my good girl can take it"

you can't speak, so you shake your head wildly, jerking forwards hard enough that his cock slips out and that makes you moan like... like a whore, turning on your side to catch your breath. but its only for a second, before sukuna's back, guiding you onto your front with a soft cooing noise—slipping back inside.

its a different angle now, with his arm around your waist, keeping your ass nice and pert against his cock as he drills into your weepy cunt. dirty talk spews from his mouth, telling you to take it, telling you how good you are, how tight your cunny is clamping around his cock. calls you a whore, a slut, and you whine loudly at that, hands spasming in the sheets as you shake your head wildly.

"i-i'm not," you protest, pushing your ass back, "not a slut, 'kuna, not—i'm not, please, pleasepleasepleaseples—"

sukuna laughs, sounding dark and sarcastic. "no, baby, i'm sorry—fuck, you're not a slut, just fffuck, you're just so good for me aren't you? sweet girl, taking it so well, pussy's so good baby, i'll keep you forever. keep you right here on my cock, mm. wanted to be gentle for my sweet girl, i'll treat her right next time—"

his thrusts send you up the bed, headboard knocking against the wall, and you can feel his face shove into the sheets next to your head as he speeds up. he's close to cumming, he tells you as his fingers intertwine with yours. he squeezes your hand tight, grunting lowly in your ear before pulling out so fast your body crumples to the bed like dead weight. he jerks his cock quickly, spurting cum over your ass and lower thighs.

you cough, swallow around your slightly hoarse throat. "they...su-'kuna, what if they...heard? and they come?"

sukuna's hands caresses your flank, every inch of bare skin he can reach. "didn't i tell you i'd take care of it sweetheart?"

you think you manage to nod, fighting against your eyes slipping shut. and you think, you think sukuna laughs again, promises again that he's not letting you go. and your heart clenches when you realize what it had been, the reason he had helped you in the first place.

and it makes you feel gross, makes you feel used. like a whore. and you fall into sleep. and the last thought on your mind is, he'll take care of it.

PLS HE LOOKS SO CUTE!!!!!! BABY YUJI IS MY BELOVED

𖦹 WHO HAVE I REMEMBERED? ⇆ touya "dabi" todoroki

┆︎summary ┆︎you find that love can create curses the same way they dismantle them.

┆︎tags┆︎the frog prince au, came back wrong trope, princess reader, prince turned usurper touya, obsessive behavior, survivor's guilt, stockholm syndrome, fade to black sex

┆︎wc┆︎5.1k

┆︎an┆︎my entry for @ljubimaya 's grim nightmares collab ! and special thanks to ethel cains new album for getting me through this. i tried something new with the formatting/writing style cause i wanted to go with discordant storytelling so let me know how you guys like that.

null.

the court whispers that you and your sisters―the kings daughters, were born from the wishes of faeries. and you, the eldest, even more so. what other way could it be explained, besides magic? that the sun kissed your cheeks each morning when it rose, and the world seemed more bleak when you were not around.

you, only short of eleven years, pay little attention to this. in fact, you pay little attention to anything that does not interest you. and lately―your latest obsession is the well outside of the castle gates.

in order to sneak away from your guards and your servants, you don a simple frilled hood and sneak through the passage-ways of the dungeon. and in the palms of your hands is your treasured ball, golden and full of sparkling light. a gift from your mother―who passed giving birth to your youngest sister.

the well reminds you of your mother, you think. and maybe that is why it entrances you so. you sit on it now, half an hour later. the stone is cool and slightly wet, where it touches slivers of bare skin. you toss the golden ball up and catch is easily in your hands. the forest is awake, but not yet bursting with energy. the birds sing their morning songs and occasionally you can hear a shrub rustle in the distance. a rabbit or dear, most likely.

it's soft, but you can hear it. the water inside the well bobbing along.

your mother had been obsessed with water. the ocean, lakes and rivers. she sketched and painted it all of the time. you never understood what was so captivating about them. only that her pieces of art were as beautiful as she had been. as miserable, and bleak, too.

the next toss of your golden ball is much higher, spurned from the strength of escaping thoughts of your deceased mother. you watch as it soars into the air, bright even against the blue sky. it comes hurtling down just as fast and you hold out your hands to catch it. the ball skims past your fingertips and you seem to watch it all in slowed motion as it lands deep within the well with a plop!

you move quickly, bracing your hands over the edge of the well with a gasp. but the well is too dark and much too deep for you to even begin to see to the bottom. even your ball, golden and bright, is swallowed up by its darkness. the tears prick up along your waterline, trickling down your brown cheeks in slow, steady streams before bursting into full-flamed sobs.

you cry and wail, kicking at the side of the well. your fists beat down on the stones and your grief chokes you. your fingers scrape against its surface, taking the moss underneath your nails.

"princess? what's wrong?" a voice calls out, approaching from your left. you turn towards the voice, staring into the face of an impassive young boy. he has a head of shock white hair, blue eyes that seem to stare so hard that they pass through you.

you don't like it. not one bit. you wipe your tears determinedly with the puffed sleeve of your gown, gesturing towards the well.

"i am crying because my golden ball fell in the stupid well" you explain, eyes narrowing with anger as you glare once more at the well. "it was a gift from my mother. i need it"

"i'll get it for you" the boy offered, staring between you and the well in equally unnerving moments.

you scoff, though the boy's foolish gesture warms you anyway. "don't be an idiot. it's gone f-forever. the well is too deep for anyone to go down. especially you, you're too small"

"i can" the boy stresses, which such conviction that it makes you pause. he relaxes the tense line of his shoulders and stares at you for a while longer. you don't know why you feel so inclined to believe him. he's a stranger, and dressed plainly. "for a price"

"whatever you want" you promise, not really thinking about it. your eyes drift to the well. you're going to get your ball back. "how about fancy clothes? pretty gems? a feast thrown in your honor? you can have it all, if you can get my ball back for me"

the boy frowns. "i do not want any of that. i want you to marry me. if you give me your hand, then i will go and get your ball for you"

"alright. fine" you acquiesce, shrugging one shoulder and without so much of another word, the boy jumps into the well. alarmed, you yell out for him, peering over the edge into the dark abyss.

moments later, your ball soars into the air and lands beside your feet with a thud.

one.

your father says socializing is perhaps the most important duty of a princess. engaging with the members of the court, with the nobles―all to find a good match. at just shy of sixteen years, you only care to socialize for the sole purpose of dressing up. spending days on selecting the perfect gown, the shoes to match. the art of your maids styling your hair, applying the gentlest forms of makeup upon your face. coming home to your castle after a long day, just to repeat the process again the next week.

unlike your younger sisters, you thrive at court life. the dancing, the rules of conversation, you understand it all. some part of you likes the attention. the boys who throw themselves at your feet, pushing at one another to please you. it fills your mind with a sense of power, of control.

you press your gloved palm to a lords, a smile dancing on your face as he whisks you across the floor. the music carries you and the lord―unnamed because you care not to know, fluttering from the tips of your toes into the smallest hair on the crown of your head.

the lord begins to pull you in. there's a curly mustache on top of his lip. his hand hovers along the small of your back, prepared to dip you, maybe. you never get a clear conclusion to his actions, because touya is wrenching him away from you.

his blue eyes are narrowed in anger. he heaves a breath, and one scathing look in the lords direction is enough to send the grown man scattering away.

"touya" you whine petulantly, in the middle of the ballroom floor. people turn their heads, sparing you only a glance before tearing away again. they know better than to interrupt the crown prince. and you should know better than to invoke his wrath like this. "that's not fair, i was dancing―"

"his hands were all over you" touya interjects, hissing the words at you. his white hair has been combed neatly and his hands shake when they reach out for you. you allow the movement, and the dance begins anew. touya seems to be replacing the lords hands with his own, touching the small of your back, palms pressed together.

"we're not married yet" you remind him cheekily, letting him spin you around before you're pulled in close once more. your eyes catch on his doublet, the intricate pattern work in his house colors. your dress, empire waist with elegant beadwork has been done to mirror his as well. "father still has to accept your proposal, in fact" its wrong to tease him, you know it is. but you can't help it.

"he will" touya hisses again. his hand tightens around your waist. he's so horribly endearing when he's angry, like a hissing kitten. the crown prince is close to you in age, a year older. where most people are afraid to anger him, fearing his wrath―you can only imagine him being that same fool hearted boy who leaped head first into a well to retrieve your ball for you.

but it is perhaps the wrong thing to say after all, because the crown prince takes one final glance at your smiling face and roughly pulls you from the floor. you protest, trying to pull away. touya only tightens his grip and drags you further into the darkened halls outside of the ballroom.

"touya―mmpfh!" the prince pushes you into one of the rooms, shutting the door behind him with his foot. he presses you against and swallows the sound of his name on your lips with a searing kiss. one of his hands braces against the door behind your head and the other remains possessively on your hip. he brings up one hand briefly to cup your chin, moving your head to deepen the kiss.

you've kissed him before. mostly chaste little things, sweet presses of your mouths together when the two of you are alone. but nothing like this. the way touya kisses you now feels like ownership, devouring your mouth and restricting your movements, knee pushing between your skirts.

his tongue swipes against the seam of your lips. you open them obediently, to which you've earned a gentle caress on your hip, and his tongue twines with yours.

touya pulls away string of saliva connecting your mouths as he stares down at you. you pant, trying to catch your breath―unable to hide the sound that escapes you when he pushes his face into your neck, pressing biting sharp kisses there as well.

your betrothed stops sucking a mark into your neck long enough to bite out the words, "you are my wife, i won't share you. not with anyone." drunk in it you nod along, hand squeezing his shoulders as arousal settles in the bottom of your stomach, new and foreign. "say it."

"i-i'm your wife" you whine into a series of kisses. you aren't married yet. your father is still thinking on the betrothal. he could reject it at any time. he could be rejecting it right now.

touya's hand slides under your skirts, pressing against heated skin, and that doubting little voice falls quiet.

two.

the wedding will go on, no matter your conflicting feelings on it.

it feels too soon. touya died only two years ago. you loved him. it feels wrong to marry someone else. every inch of you is pulling you towards someone you cannot have. you need more time. yet you say nothing, as your maids usher you from the tub into a warm towel. they scrub at your skin, drying the water from your flesh.

the war has just ended. there on the throne, on touya's throne―sits an usurper. your father's people, your people, they have lost loved ones. women who have lost their husbands, much like you have. children, without fathers. resources that are scarce and dwindling. and yet your father thinks a marriage will united the kingdom.

play your part, your father had said. what the people need now is something to make them happy. you stare bitterly into your reflection as the maids bring out the wedding gown. the one you were supposed to be wed in, when you were going to be wed to touya―that one had been destroyed. you don't even want to look at this one. it is like everyone is trying to take his memory from you.

you screw your eyes shut as the dress is pulled onto your frame. lace and tulle scratch against your brown skin. you want to claw out of yourself desperately. to be anyone else.

the maids murmur quietly amongst themselves. you are a vision, they say. you can hide no longer, and your eyes must open. you stare at yourself in the floor length mirror and you hate what you see. its not the dress you would have chosen. you look mature and wise, elegant beyond your years. you look nothing like the girl who chased touya through the gardens, tumbling with him on the grasses.

you look like a queen―regal. you do not look like the girl touya kissed under the moonlight as he held your hand. your hand comes up to your neck absentminded, searching for the ring he had given you, dangling on pure silver. it is not there, you realize a moment too late, and your hand connects with the smooth bare skin there instead.

your eyes slide over to the chest, where you have kept it safe since the night prior. it isn't wise to marry a man with a ring of another around your throat. even you know that.

but still, each step towards your husband-to-be feels traitorous. all eyes are on you, and the wedding march plays and all you can think about is how much you want to run away. but you are a coward, so all you do is keep your head straight as you continue down the aisle of the cathedral.

the priest begins with the ceremony. your heart feels like lead in your stomach and a feeling of pure dread encompasses you. your fingers shake from where they are wrapped around the stem of the bouquet. the man you are to marry stands across from you, smile on his face.

there is nothing to be joyous about. your husband turns that smiling gaze towards you now, and you feel the priests eyes on you as well. you open your mouth to prepare to speak your vows. your voice is hushed and you have to clear your throat softly to try again.

the sounds of men yelling outside wash over the quiet cathedral. several heads turn towards the doors, you among them. there are more shouts and moments later the doors burst open.

even from where you stand, you know by the glint of silvery steel on his helm that this man is the usurper. the man is followed by a small group of armed men as they charge into the cathedral. one of your own knights unsheathes his blade at your fathers command, and you can do nothing but stand there are more blades are uncovered―glinting in the morning light.

you swallow a gasp as the usurper cuts down the knight, spraying blood and viscera among the guests, making his way towards you determinedly. the cathedral is thrown into disarray as the usurper and his men charge, cutting down those who stand in their way. you throw down your bouquet, cursing the tightness of the dress that doesn't allow you much movement at all―trying to flee.

the usurper reaches you, pulling you towards him. several men hold your husband, and even if you did not want to marry him, you bear no ill-will towards him. and when he stabbed through the chest, you cry out for him all the same. the usurper turns towards you once more and he stares at you―you know he is, you can feel it even with the helm obscuring his face.

"let me go! let me go, let me, stop touching me!" you shout, fists pounding against the chest of the usurper. you fight against him, scratching and squirming. though you might as well be kicking mere pebbles against him, with the way he doesn't move. tears cloud your vision and soon your fight wears out of you.

without a word, the usurper reaches forwards―gripping your arm far too gently as he takes the ring from your finger and tosses it among the remains of your husband with a scathing growl.

"i wont' share you" the usurper says, voice gravelly and rough as recognition dawns on you. your eyes widen, and the usurper drags you to the front doors.

"touya?" you ask, eyes glistening with fresh tears. the usurper stiffens but does not answer you.

though, not answering is answer enough.

three.

he insists that you call him dabi, now. the name fills your mouth with bile and so you refuse. he is touya―you have to believe that the man who stands before you now is your touya. he is still yours. sour and mercurial. the touya that loves you deeply, that loves you purely. dabi is the one who yells, who accuses you of horrible things―of abandoning him. who tells you that this, the life you live now, is your fault.

the ballroom carries on in merry feasting. everyone present seems to be wholly engrossed in dancing, in the meal. no one pays much attention to the usurper king and his wife. or perhaps, they are all like you―pretending that nothing has changed.

touya's arm leans across your chair, draping over your shoulder. it is a miracle that you do not shudder when his fingers dance along the skin of your jaw. his mouth presses close to your ear and you can feel him gently playing with the neckline of your wedding dress. "are the festivities not to your liking?" he inquires, whispering. this time, you do shudder.

"i-i'm content" you reply, swallowing your nerves. you can feel the way touya continues to stare at you. a month ago, still new to your life here as the usurpers wife―you tried everything you could to rebel. you refused to eat, scratched at him every time he came near.

and one morning, he had the chefs prepare your favorite. fluffy pancakes, drowning in sticky syrup. sliced fruit and yogurt on the side. a tall glass of chilled orange juice, free of pulp. again―you had refused the meal. dabi had leaned over you on the bed, gently cupping your cheek.

"is it not to your liking, wife?" he had asked, always with the wife. as if he was making up for lost time. but to you, it only felt like a reminder of your place beside him. you had stubbornly shook your head and moments later dabi had the chefs brought into your chambers and slain.

you do not doubt for a second that dabi would have every noble in this room slain if he felt like it, guided by twisted morals. you don't want anyone else to die for you. you don't want him to kill anyone else. "i'm happy, touya" you say once more, plastering a smile onto your face. you force yourself to look at him―the scars and the charred flesh. his hair, dyed black now. the soullessness of his blue eyes.

moments of silence pass. you play with your hands in your lap, anxious as you wait for his visible displeasure to pass. touya continues to stare at you, and without another word, he stands.

fear washes over you. he stares down at you, eyes roving over your face. "we're to retire for the night, my dear" he says, sounding almost like touya again as he helps you from your chair. you know what's to come.

guards are posted up and down the halls, spears raised and at the ready. each nods in your direction, acknowledging their king and queen. touya moves steadily forwards getting closer to your shared chambers.

you had caved once, earlier in the week, and asked one of your elder servants how her first time had gone. her hair was graying and you knew she must have a had a child already. she did not answer you, not immediately, braiding down your hair.

"it's going to hurt" she told you, staring down at you pityingly "men do not understand that they have to be gentle, for a maidens first time. you have to relax and let the worst of it pass"

touya's mouth claims yours the moment you two are alone. it feels invasive, like he's trying to crawl into your body from your mouth and stay there. you try to kiss him back, but he dominates the kiss so easily, moving you this way and that. his hands deftly undo the buttons on the back of your wedding gown, pressing fevered kisses to your neck once the slope of skin is exposed to him.

"there is not a single woman in the world who compares to you" touya whispers, pushing you down onto the bed gently. his eyes meet yours in the dim lighting as he kneels before you. his hands undo the straps of your shoes, lightly massaging your foot, then your calf and then up to your knee. "in beauty, in grace. i have lived my entire life in your image, and i will continue to do so still. you have entranced me mind, body and soul"

he is reciting his vows to you, you realize somewhat dazedly, as he pushed the gown from your shivering frame. clad in only your undergarments, the air chills you. his teeth nip at a sensitive part of your throat, pulling a meek sound from your lips.

touya's hands hover above your body before slowly touching the bare skin of your legs. he kisses you once more, humming into it as his hands caress flesh. like he can't quite believe you're real. you've never been touched like this before, and your stomach curls when his hands skirt around your pelvis.

his hair tickles the skin just underneath your breasts. you look down when you feel his face pressing into your stomach. touya groans, loudly. "you're so soft" he whispers, nearly feverish with it. you don't know what to say to that, so you say nothing. his face presses further into your skin and he smells you, groaning again―like he's trying to push past the layer and live in your bones instead. even that level of closeness may not be close enough for him, you realize with slight horror.

"like vanilla" touya murmurs, hooking two of his scarred fingers over your underwear and slowly pulling them down your legs. touya's gunmetal blue eyes are focused onto your cunt, like a predator right before it strikes. blindly, touya brings the silken garment to his nose before he tucks your underwear into the breast pocket of his jacket.

"you can't―!" you protest in embarrassment, squeezing your legs together as shame fills you. you only realize entirely too late that this does nothing but expose more of your privates to him, and before you can try to shift your position, touya is pulling your legs apart once more.

touya dances his pointer down the length of your inner thigh, and then once more. he drags it down from your hooded clit to your entrance. "so pretty" he murmurs. the attention causes you to shiver and in return, touya finally looks up to face you. "are you a maiden?" he asks, as if he does not already know the answer.

"touya―" you reply, nearly whiny. his fingers continue to trace your outer lips, and them pushing them aside to drift between your folds.

"dabi" touya corrects sternly, but doesn't bother saying anything more on that subject, too engrossed in playing with you. "answer me."

you can feel yourself getting wet. it is the single most embarrassing thing in the world. you don't know if its his tone of voice, the way touya plays with you―somehow both nonchalant and obsessive about being in-between your legs. "y-yes. i'm untouched"

not truly. there was that time at the ball. but touya had used only his fingers, bringing you to completion quickly. you wonder if he can even remember it.

"do you touch yourself?" a shake of your head. touya presses more insistently, grazing them along your sensitive nub as he stares at your face for a reaction. "with words" a harder press and this time a tiny sound escapes you, hardly above a gasp and your cunt throbs, clenching around nothing.

"i haven't" you answer dutifully, voice shaky as another gasps escapes you. "please-"

touya laughs. it sounds cruel and condescending all at once. he brings those eyes back up to your face. "do you even know what your asking for?"

your thighs press together. you don't. touya knows you don't.

"i thought not" touya chuckles, spreading your legs once more. he drags you none too gently down the length of your bed, and settles his lower half against it. his fingers continue their gentle petting, mouth placing little kisses against your inner thighs that have you squeezing your eyes shut as more slick pools from your cunt.

"but that's alright, isn't it?" he asks, and you open your mouth to speak when you realize that he isn't talking to you. touya licks a broad stroke up your cunt, pulling a little squeal from your lips before drawing back to kiss your clit. "you just need your husband to figure everything out for you, don't you sweetheart?"

four.

"i could get in so much trouble for this" you say, as touya helps you cross over a path of stones. you hold your skirts up in your hands as he guides you along. "if my father finds out i've left, it could ruin my reputation"

"why do you need a reputation?" touya replies, looking at you with a perplexed expression―like he really can't understand the concept. it is entirely too endearing for your liking. touya is supposed to be a pest, he is a pest. but you like having him around all the time. "i'm going to be the one to marry you, why does any of that matter?"

you feel yourself flushing. he hasn't let that go, and you don't think he ever will. you are grateful that it is too dark out for touya to see you properly. you don't say anything else, refusing to give in. instead, you allow yourself to be led along, trying to puzzle out where exactly touya is taking you.

"oh wow" you breathe, as you reach your destination at last. the moon stretches over the forest floor, glittering against a lulling stream. the grasses tickle against your ankles, and you are surrounded by a sea of blue flowers. there are fireflies, and their lights illuminate the prince's face. "touya, where are we?" it's hard to believe such a place has existed so near to your kingdom.

"its not too far from the well where i met you" touya says, staring at you. your head whips to stare back at him. your eyes drift slowly away from touya, and back to the sea where you find yourself immersed in. the blue is not so far away from the color of touya's eyes, you realize. the thought does not bother you. "do you like them? the flowers? i do not think they are nearly as beautiful as you are, but they will have to do"

you flush again. you have been told that you are beautiful, hundreds of times. maybe even thousands. yet the way that touya says it is...it is not the same. "will have to do for what?" you ask, turning back around.

"i do love you" touya says, stepping close to kiss your cheek, then then corner of your mouth. you both meet in the middle to sweetly kiss. touya takes your hand in his, and you gasp into the kiss when you feel something cold slide onto your finger. your eyes fly down, wide as saucers as you stare down at the ring.

"touya―"

"it isn't silly and childish. i knew i would marry you the day i saw you crying at the well" he continues, watching your expression as you lift your hand to your face. "i am in love with you. i will never love anyone else. nothing compares to you. you have bewitched me ; mind, body and soul"

you can only stare at him.

but touya knows your silence is a good one. a soft smile dawns on his face as he stares at you. he brings your ring-adorned hand up to his mouth, and kisses every finger. his eyes do not stray from yours. when has touya turned into such a romantic?

"i've spent my entire life under the thumb of my father" touya murmurs. "i did not have anything to live for. but you. i want you more than anything in the world. we will be wed soon. you only need wait a little longer. can you do that for me?"

a shiver befalls you.

the scene breaks. the doors open, and you start from the pleasant memory. you turn towards the doors, gazing into the stern face of your father.

nervously, you reach below the neckline of your daygown and pull out the ring touya gave you, suspended by a silver chain. "my letters to touya, has there been any answer?" you inquire. the same as you do everyday when your father comes to visit you.

nearly a year of silence. you have never gone so long without any word from him. it scares you.

yet the air around you feels oppressive, heavy. you bring your attentions away from the ring around your neck to look at your father. his face is pinched, heavy. he does not have good news, you realize, and your heart drops to your stomach at the thought of it.

"father?" you ask, standing hurriedly. "what is the matter?"

your father only grimaces, and gestures for you to sit back down. you obey, gripping the material of the setee in a tight grip. "the prince is dead" you shake your head. a second time, and then a third as tears well up into your eyes. "a fire, in the east wing of the castle"

five.

you rub your lower skin softly, mind elsewhere. the cross stitch in your hands has long since been abandoned.

the wind blows, rustles your gowns as you sit alone in the gardens. touya has been gone for three days now―on business. he is soon to return. though you wish for his carriage to fall of a mountain anyway. it hadn't the last time, so you know it won't this time either. and he may not be with you physically, but you feel the hold he has on you all the same.

hard not to, when everyone has given you such a wide berth. they know that talking to you for too long, smiling in your direction. complimenting your hair ; any of it could incur his wrath. and those who angered the usurper king were all quickly disposed of. the news of your pregnancy has only seemed to worsen his possessive streak.

a shadow falls over you, blocking out your light. hands fall on your shoulder. you no longer have the strength to resist him.

"i've returned" touya says softly, pressing a kiss to the side of your cheek. his hand travels down your body, laying over your own, gently caressing your belly. "how have you fared, in my absence?"

"i am content" you reply, softly. obediently you tip your head back and allow him to kiss you for real. "happy" you say, and the lie tastes like ash in your mouth.

touya hums into the kiss. "and the babe?" he inquires, eyes landing on your slightly swollen belly.

"another story entirely" you tell him, and your husband laughs. the sound of it fills you with dread and you want to fling yourself from the highest tower. but you are a coward, above all―and so all you do is smile and let him lead you back into your chambers.

© amalainse -- do not copy, steal or plagiarize my works.

nonnie, fear not-- working on that delectable request fic rn. hopefully i can finish it before the week over <3

・♱・ "DEVIL MAY CRY...!"

jujutsu kaisen

| not yet written 4 :: nanami, geto, choso, shoko, megumi, maki, yuuta, nobara, toge

| written 4 :: sukuna, gojo, yuuji

bnha

| not yet written 4 :: izuku, bakugo, kirishima, denki, shouto, tenya, tomura, aizawa

| written 4 :: dabi, hawks

attack on titan

| not yet written 4 :: eren, armin, mikasa, erwin, levi, jean, zeke, reiner, ymir

hq !!

| not yet written 4 :: daichi, suga, tsukishima, kageyama, bokuto, akaashi, kuroo, kenma, kita, oran, osamu, suna, sakusa, ushijima, tendou, oikawa, iwaizumi, mattsun, kyotani

| written 4 :: atsumu

tlou

| not yet written 4 :: ellie, joel, dina

| written 4 :: abby

arcane

| not yet written 4 :: ambessa, sevika, mel, jayce, viktor, vi

jujutsu kaisen devils 𓂃 ♰

| ࣪ ִֶָ☾.﹒ students

༒︎﹒ YUUJI ITADORI

ıllı in your spirit, singing softly ꕀ betrothed to an elusive shy highborn lady, yuuji is determined to uncover the woman hiding behind the harsh expectations placed upon her by her family. ⊹ gen & nsfw. 8.7k

༒︎﹒ MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

༒︎﹒ MAKI ZEN'IN

༒︎﹒TOGE INUMAKI

༒︎﹒YUUTA OKKOTSU

| ࣪ ִֶָ☾.﹒ sorcerers

༒︎﹒ GOJO SATORU

ıllı life spring ꕀ this is the married life that gojo deserves and it's his and sometimes he can't believe its all real. ⊹ nsfw. 1.4k

༒︎﹒ GETOU SUGURU

༒︎﹒ NANAMI KENTO

༒︎﹒ SHOKO IERIRI

| ࣪ ִֶָ☾.﹒ curse / curse users

༒︎﹒ SUKUNA RYOMEN !

ıllı born under a bad sign ꕀ you puzzle around the reasons a man like sukuna would help you, of all people. why he didn't leave you to die. why he goes through the trouble. and then. and then he shows you. ⊹ nsfw. dc. yandere. 3.6k

༒︎﹒ CHOSO

| ࣪ ִֶָ☾.﹒ multi

social anxiety on TUMBLR of all things

𓆩ഒ𓆪 tagging system !

ꕤ*. as you may know, this blogs contains quite a bit of dark content. i always make sure to label them at the beginning of fics. but if you wish to mute the tags entirely

✭. dc // ✭. yandere // ✭.specifichere (ie ✭.stalking)

i have the same tagging layout for fandoms and characters as well !

ꕤ*. outside of fics, i use the following tags, which you can block as needed :

✭.malpractice = me talking and blahblahblah-ing !

✭.commonlaw = reblogs

✭.amicuscuraie = asks !

ꕤ*. as far as requests go, i'm open to anything except the following :

ᘒ incest (i might hear you out on step or pseudo) ⊹ scat ⊹ urine ⊹ fwb troupe ⊹ period sex ⊹ physically abusive relationships

༉ ease your mind.

cw — wlw. ambessa x f!reader. ambesscock. that’s it that’s the fic. fingering. slight orgasm denial if you squint. pussy slapping. overstimulation. creampie. ambessa loves her stupid little wife (not outwardly said but. yk). ambessa has a huge cock and it almost kills reader (not clickbait!!!)

you stood at the balcony of your palatial-like room, the cold air of the evening hitting your cheeks as your brows furrowed. ambessa sighed at the sight. you were her prized possession, she cleared the rust from you and made you lustrous; now, you were gradually dulling. she couldn’t let that happen. “your performance reflects your effort, little one. you’ve been dragging your feet all week.”

you internally winced at her words. there was no getting around ambessa, no slick tricks or batting eyelashes could conceal how you really felt. “you’re spending too much time in your head. no more of this self-deprecating prattle; you’re fine.” she said finally.

“right..” you exhaled under your breath.

she huffed. if there was one thing she loved about you, it was your compliance. not that it started that way; you had thorns in your words, much to her chagrin. “you disagree,” she noted.

you were a bit too quick to answer, “i do not,”

“no?” she raised an eyebrow at you. another weird shot in your stomach at the slightly teasing tone in her voice. “it’s… it’s silly.” you gulped. “silly.” that was the word you decided? it surprised her even though it shouldn’t. “humor me.”

your eyes briefly flicked to her face for a moment before you looked back down, sighing defeatedly. damn her. “i.. have been dissatisfied with my performance lately. and i fear you have to.” you muttered, you almost thought she didn’t hear you and would coax you to speak louder. but she understood you just clearly. she just didn’t understand why. “so?” you raised an eyebrow at her, looking up at her, continuing as she didn’t let you get the chance to speak yet. “i would have said something to you if i had any grievances. do you doubt my methods?”

mouth slightly gape, you closed it and swallowed again, looking down at the white cement beneath you, “n..no.” ambessa smirked. “no?” she repeated. “then do not waste your brain on such frivolous matters. or do you need a reminder on who exactly you belong to?”

“i-i..” somehow, you were just now made aware of her very close proximity to you. maybe a little too close if you weren’t busy rubbing your thighs together at the mere idea.

“i think you do.”

—

a violent, shuttering breath came from your chest as ambessa’s thick fingers worked amongst your slit, teasing up and down slowly before she rubbed firm yet calculated circles on your clit. gripping the red silk sheets for dear life, and she barely even started. “isn’t this better, hm? a great difference than whatever nonsense you had in that little head of yours.” you sobbed at her teasing, quickly throwing your head back when she added a thick finger inside you. you already felt so full, what more could she have?

you tried your absolute hardest to not squirm and writhe under her when she added another finger, the lewd squelching of your aroused pussy echoing the sumptuous walls. “absolute submission suits you far better, darling..” she drawled while slyly adding a third finger. you nodded dumbly, agreeing to whatever eloquent words she cooed to you. they made your pussy drool hot, creamy juices that made her stomach churn in satisfaction. you pleaded and gasped, her scarred forearm never faltering when your nails dug into it.

to her truimph of having you exactly where she wanted, she removed her fingers, licking them clean shamelessly. messily. like she was sampling piltover cuisine again. except this time it was from your pretty pussy, which automatically made it 10x better than the diplomatic, ‘progressive’ city.

you whine at the loss, bucking your hips up to desperately chase the feeling again until a harsh slap met your cunt, making you squeak and close your thighs together instinctively. “don’t be greedy,” she growled, her blunt hands grabbing the supple skin of your thighs and spreading them wide open for her. you’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so incredibly aroused right now. “good girls don’t get rewarded if they’re inattentive. behave.” she leaned down to say firmly in your ear. you had no other choice but to nod your head, sniffling in compliance.

“your words, girl.”

“y-yes, ambessa.”

“good,” she smirked, leaning up again, lazily undoing her pants with an unreadable expression on her face. she knew you loved this sight of her, standing tall at the edge of the bed as you anticipated for what’s going to come next. it gave you a grueling feeling in your stomach, yet you chased it. chased her. with a scarred hand, she guided her cock out of the tight and inconvenient confines of her pants, mostly, if not already rock hard. dribbles of precum ran from her slit, making your mouth water at the sight, desperately wanting a taste. but not right now. was she twitching from the cool air of the room, or is she just simply built up and found the chance to finally fuck you? it was probably both.

she didn’t even let you breathe before you felt your knees rub against your chest and pulling you further to the edge of the bed, her slick tip sliding up against your slit, making you shudder. “let me show you how i value your excellence above anything else.” she finally sunk her cock into you, inch by inch, making you cry out. she wasn’t even fully in you yet. “breathe,” she cooed, guiding you through it was the least she could do. she held your legs steady as she sunk even further into you, biting your lip to alleviate the slight uncomfortableness. all of this, for you? the least you could do is just sit there and take it.

but, as soon as the pain faded away, you almost instantly became drunk on her cock, every snap of her hips knocked the wind out of you. your pussy salivated on her, smearing on her stomach and thighs and even on the bed, but she didn’t care. in fact, she encouraged it so much she forced you to look down at the sheer mess you were making. you were embarrassed, but the way you felt her cock twitch and hearing her groan when she saw the way she glided in and out of you made it worth it.

she made you pliable. a moldable, sticky mess, like you were designed by the gods to piece together perfectly like a complicated and difficult puzzle. “please, please please..” you whined, feeling her splitting you open. you were so full of her it was like you could fucking feel her in your throat, her cock kissing and bruising you in places you were unaware of until this evening. she was too big, you finalized— yet you could take it, she knew you could. each pant, moan and whine made that very clear to her.

“just fabulous..” she praised under her breath, appreciating how it earned a squeeze and twitches from your dewy, spongy walls. she knew you were getting close, dangerously so. she never relented her pace, having you babble and slur out nonsense, praise for her fucking you so good, thanking her for fixing your silly self-deprecating problems. she simply smirked and exchanged back filth to your slushed mind, but her smirk would slightly falter as she felt herself growing closer to release as well.

“‘bessa, gonna cum, i’m gonna cum, fuck—!!” you were only met with a nod, a final command as you followed it, like always. sobbing helplessly, a final, brutal slam made you gush everywhere, sinking herself down as you came unbelievably hard, your moans borderline whorish when you felt her cum deep inside you, a few shallow thrusts to ensure no drop escaped.

she barely even broke a sweat, yet you were under her fucked out of your mind, thighs twitching in mock-withdrawal in her hands, face ridden with tears and sweat. you were looked a mess, but you never looked more gorgeous in ambessa’s eyes.

her eyes widened softly as your arms wrapped around her neck and pulled her closer to you, but she made no attempt to pull away. she chuckled at your deprivation, rewarding you with a kiss on the side of your lips. “it seems like i hadn’t fail you this time.” you nodded and let out a meek “no” in response. you were too weak to speak at the moment.

you just wanted to selfishly bask in her embrace just a wee longer, wanting your skin to be hers for just a moment.

© 7KH 2024, all rights reserved — do not claim, modify, copy or translate my content.

at first i felt bad about not posting a fic today and then i realized i wrote like 600-800 words for 3 different fics. i need to take the largest chill pill and stop being so hard on myself!