#Jujutsu kaisen fanfic
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madaqueue · 2 days ago
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18+ MDNI - f!reader (nasty freak boy who cums too early...i love him)
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virgin!satoru who thinks he’s going to die. genuinely, he thinks his heart is about to explode out of his chest and his last memory will be the way you stare down at him with those lust-blown eyes and that awe-struck smile. why else would he be shaking like this, covered in a layer of sweat and lightheaded to the point his vision is swirling?
“are you ready, satoru?” is the only thing he can make out above the ringing in his ears - how can he tell you he only has a few moments to live when your legs are spread like this and he’s so hard it fucking hurts?
virgin!satoru who is the farthest fucking thing from ‘ready’ but he’d rather die than disappoint you, so he’s at least got to try.
with an unsteady hand he swipes the tip of his cock up and down your slit, watching the way the light sparkles with how wet you are, for him.
“you can put it in, baby,” and he fucking groans, he can barely look at you when you talk to him like that, all syrupy sweet and thick and dripping.
virgin!satoru who finally, finally, pushes himself past your entrance. his eyes are locked on the way you swallow his length, the way he’s so hot he can’t breathe, can’t get enough air in because it all smells like you.
virgin!satoru who cums before he even bottoms out. he’s trembling and whining and it only gets worse when your hands find his shoulders and pull him into you.
“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, fuck-”
“it’s okay,” you coo, and he’s so fucking warm, and he’s grateful he can’t see the smile on your face because he thinks it might actually make his heart stop.
virgin!satoru who straightens his back, slowly pulls his cock out of you and watches in awe as his cum leaks down your thighs, who can’t stop himself from smearing it through your folds with his thumb, who doesn’t miss the way your pussy clenches as he does.
virgin!satoru who’s already hard again, who no longer cares if he’s dying because this must be heaven, who stares back at you with wild, unfocused eyes as he says, “i think…i think i’m ready now.”
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a/n: i think i blacked out from lust writing this
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paranoiddreams · 2 days ago
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Sukuna is just so amazed by how wet you get for him. Ever since he first saw your pussy, throbbing and radiating arousing heat, he knew that he finally had a slice of heaven.
“Baby, how come you didn’t tell me you got this wet and needy sooner??”
“I…didn’t know I did?”
You’re just utterly confused by how much he LOVES the way you look, taste, sound, even smell—you can’t wrap your head around it, you’ve always thought that you had an average, normal, sexual desire, but then you met Sukuna.
“God, you’re so fucking warm; so fucking sticky and wet—fuck!” He’d growl in your ear as he pounds into you from above, his hands pressing your thighs against your chest.
“K-kuna! Stop, I’m making a mess,” you cry, “w-we just changed the sheets!”
Sukuna will just laugh—like genuinely laugh—and look at you through heavy lidded eyes, not stopping his brutal pace for a moment.
“And we’ll change ‘em again—I wanna see you make a fucking mess~”
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sukuna-ryo · 3 days ago
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Jjk Men In Fairytale Retellings Masterlist
Explicit Sexual Content, MDNI.
»»———- .................... ———-««
𝕮𝖎𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖆 𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔
𝓒𝓸𝓶𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓢𝓸𝓸𝓷...
The Honest Woodcutter (Gojo and Sukuna)
Rapunzel (Gojo)
Red Riding Hood (rrd Sukuna and fox reader)
Beast in the Beauty (Sukuna)
Ursula Geto and Ariel
Captain Hook Toji and Tinker Bell
Jasmine and the Shapeshifter Tiger (Nanami and Toji)
The Nutcracker (Reader as Clara's mother and Nutcracker Prince Nanami)
The Frog Prince (Hiromi)
Snow White and the Seven Dwarves (Gojo, Geto, Sukuna, Toji, Choso, Nanami, Hiromi)
»»———- .................... ———-««
Main m.list
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
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lxvebun · 6 hours ago
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Highschool au brainrot with sukuna. Please hear me out-
╰┈ Not completely proofread. Sukuna x gender neutral reader<3 fluff! Let me know if you guys prefer small or big text for brainrots like this♡
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꒰ა High school jock Sukuna! who had been failing his tests and was now facing the very real threat of being benched if he didn’t bring his grades up. His usual cocky grin faltering slightly as he carried himself around school with a nervous scowl.
The name Ryomen Sukuna stared back at you from the slip of paper the teacher handed to you, their eyes filled with a sense of pity, knowing Sukuna was not the easiest to get along with. The note simply read: “Please, tutor him for the upcoming tests.”
High school jock Sukuna! who was absolutely terrifying to approach. He towered over most, his sheer size enough to make anyone think twice before stepping into his space. With a permanent furrow in his eyebrows, making it look like he was always on the edge of starting a fight, and a sharp voice with an even sharper tongue. Intimidating already, he became even more so around his team—loud, confident, untouchable. Not wanting to deal with that many eyes on you, you decided to wait until after practice, when the hallways had fallen silent, and you wouldn't have the weight of other people’s eyes on you… just his.
High school jock Sukuna! who had lit up in a way you hadn’t been expecting when you explained that your teachers had assigned him to you for tutoring. The edge of confusion in his eyes cleared almost instantly, replaced by something more like relief. He was quick to exchange numbers with you, even quicker to ask if you had time that Friday after practice.
High school jock Sukuna! with whom you surprisingly found yourself in the midst of a blossoming friendship. Yeah, he was rough around the edges, with his jagged personality, sharp tongue, and lack of patience for anything he didn’t find interesting. But when it was just the two of you, tucked into a corner of the library, it was almost like he softened a little. He listened carefully when you explained things to him, followed your instructions on homework, albeit begrudgingly, doodled on the corner of your notebooks, overhauled his backpack to share his snacks, and what you thought would be a nerve-wracking few hours every week turned into something you actually looked forward to.
High school jock Sukuna! who’s crushing so incredibly hard on you, but you’re completely oblivious to it. Perceiving it more as him just being friendly. </3
And really, it’s so painfully obvious he likes you—he doesn’t even bother hiding the way he stares when you’re explaining something, and there’s a certain warmth in his gaze that makes your heart flutter, but you brush it off. </3
(Really, it's a miracle his pupils haven’t turned into little heart shapes yet.)
He’s just glad he’s keeping his grades up with your help so he can continue to play in his games. You convince yourself as he flashes a fanged smile and shoots you a wink as you pass each other in the hallways.
Sukuna just doesn’t want to deal with the hassle of having another tutor assigned to him. He doesn’t want to go through the exhausting process of explaining what he finds difficult in his subjects over and over again to a stranger. Your mind rationalizes as he offers to carry your bag, not giving you any time to respond before he slung the heavy thing over his shoulder with a casual grin. His arm now wrapped around your shoulder. The warmth of his touch lingering as you both walked to the library for your usual study session
It’s just Sukuna trying his best to be friendly and convince you to stay and tutor him. That’s all it is. You're sure! But then… that doesn’t explain why his team jersey, with the bold, bright lettering spelling out his name, is currently neatly folded up in your locker, adorned with a messy little note in familiar handwriting that reads:
“Wear this for me at the game?” ♡
Your fingers hover over the fabric, the weight of it suddenly feeling a lot heavier than it should...໒꒱ ⠀
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rahuratna · 1 day ago
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Synopsis: (Reader x Nanami) In the aftermath of a disturbing dream, Kento enfolds you in the solace only he can bring.
Rated: T
Contents: Angst, Suspense, Romance.
Banner artwork: She Did Not Turn - David Inshaw (1974)
Dividers by: @rookthornesartistry
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You dream that he is standing in a dried out field, far removed from anything familiar. The alien sun encroaches with terrifying proximity on the horizon, a red collosus, but you feel none of its warmth. It is as if no atmosphere exists around you here, nothing to carry minute traces of sensation from your skin to his across the quivering, paper thin stalks that stab through the earth.
Kento.
Yes, it's your voice, but you have no mouth with which to speak his name. Your presence is a muted one. It doesn't carry any weight here.
He stands, back towards you, and in spite of the chilling distance between your form and his, you can make out the tender part of his hair, which you've run your fingers through countless times when he lays his head in your lap. You can see the way he leans slightly to the left, his straight posture now and then giving way to an old knee injury that plagues him. You watch his hands clench and unclench, reflexively, as he does before setting his mind to a new task, a small gesture of readiness, of his eternal sense of duty.
Kento. What are you getting ready to face?
And why alone?
The stillness of the air is beginning to awaken a restless rebellion in your body. You need to be closer to him. You need to touch him, or that hungry, hungry sun will swallow him up, leaving no trace of him on this fallow ground.
No mouth. No fingers. No legs to carry you to him.
But isn't this how you've always felt? As if you're a powerless spectator, watching as the man you love above all others marches with steady inevitability towards a seething horizon that blows apart under any kind of scrutiny?
How fragile is the human form? How tender is the flesh? You can't help but think of such things, even when enfolded in the vital strength of his arms, even when the sweat of lovemaking cools on your skin and his, and the substantial weight of his body sinks against you, drawn in by the crushing gravity of your embrace.
At those times, you hold him close and wonder at how easily his strength could be shattered, at how frail the connecting web of bone, muscle and blood, everything that made up your Kento, truly was.
Was it monstrous to think that way? Was it so taboo to voice your fears, when you should be dwelling on the sunlit wash of his presence in your home, your bed, your arms?
Forward, forward, you must go further. Push yourself to your limits, as he always does.
The landscape is resolving into harsher shapes around you. Details creep along the edges of your vision, sinuous. There are floorboards beneath your spectral feet. You feel no sensation, but you know that the sun has hardened and bleached them with the same reverence it bestows to the bones of unknowable animals in a flat expanse of desert.
You are viewing Kento through a window, a stark rectangle in the wooden wall, framed in splinters. He is not moving, out there in that dry, dry field, and you wonder how he can bear the heat of that gigantic sun.
A terrible thought strikes you.
What if he is already gone? What if the skin has already been burned from his flesh? What if he cannot move as his muscles shrivel and scorch under that stupendous heat? What if he cannot turn to you, one final time, because he wants to spare you the sight of bone protruding from the remains of charred tissue?
No. No. You cannot let it be. You cannot watch him -
Tangible. Tangible is what you have become, through sheer force of will. You weave your own body into existence, because you must save him, you must reach him.
Kento hasn't moved, but the sun seems closer. It is closer. You have to do something. You have to act, and your helplessness will be no excuse when he is beyond your reach and that of everyone else he knows and cares for -
Your arm, or some half-formed semblance of it, plunges through the window. Something shatters. Sensation floods your mind, synapses flaring to life, their signals propelled with all the reckless fury of a charge on foot against cannon-fire.
It burns, it burns, it is pain, it is beyond anything you have ever endured, but endure it you will, because -
The answer comes to you, spoken somewhere in still-water depths that no sun can reach.
You will burn for him. You will swallow this agony for him. You will partake of this pain until you grow and grow and spread your incorporeal body across the horizon, too large for this flimsy room to contain. You will grow larger than the sun, even, swallowing all of his pain, even beyond the limits of any threshold you have known, because you -
Air enters your lungs in a frigid rush, and you sit up, chest heaving. Your thin nightdress stretches uncomfortably across your skin, and something trickles from your brow down across your eyelid. It stings, blurring your vision. You blink, once, twice.
Someone is calling your name.
There is a hand on your back, firm and grounding. Fingers sweep along your brow, removing the moisture that has collected there.
Kento.
You can barely summon the strength needed to turn and look at him.
There he is.
No scorched flesh, no red, cavernous eye sockets, the gleaming, white sanctuary of his ribs still encased in clean, undamaged tissue.
In the darkness of your bedroom, you can't make out the finer details. No otherworldly sunlight casts his features in stark lines on living canvas.
In spite of this fact, you know that there is a furrow carved in his brow. Even without touching him, you can feel tension radiate from muscles that are always ready to react. Those earnest eyes, always reflecting the dappled shade of a forest in the springtime, taking you in with a scrutiny that would produce the inevitable conclusion.
He doesn't ask you outright; he doesn't need to.
Instead, a hush descends over your senses as his arms come up and draw you close, so close, disregarding the sweat that still dampens your clothes.
Oh, to be wrapped in this steady rhythm forever, to listen to the pulse of the resilient muscle beneath the cellular fabric that forms this man you love above all others. How could your mind still creep back to that hellish place when this was laid out before you, the banquet of his all-encompassing embrace?
No fear can touch you here. No enemy can lay siege to him in this place, protected by the irrational and incontestable vow of sanctity that you have imposed on these four walls.
"Do you want to tell me what that was about?"
His voice stirs gently though your hair, each word laced with infinite tenderness. It almost breaks your resolve to retain control of yourself.
"I had a dream that you ... were far away."
His grip across your shoulder tightens. Kento has seen enough death and despair in the line of duty to fill in the shadowed spaces of that distant landscape himself.
You continue, voice loud in the hush of this room, the night so very, very still. Kento's heartbeat is the exception. It pounds with rebellious vitality under your palm.
"I had a dream that you were standing in a wide, open field. And that there was a giant ... sun in the sky. And it was about to burn everything up, including you. And me."
There is a heavy pause in which the tick of the clock on the nightstand strikes each second with a steel-clad fist.
When he does eventually speak, Kento's voice is low, his words unhurried, as if the reassurance he offers will embed itself in the eternal strata of his world and yours.
"And was I facing you, in this dream? Was I close to you?"
"No. You were ... turned towards the sun."
"Hm. Then that dream means nothing."
"Tell me why."
"If what you dreamed about really happened, and I was in a place you couldn't reach, then I would make sure that I would only ever think of you. If the man in your dream couldn't face you, then he wasn't me. It's that simple."
You can't help the way your lips curve secretly, hidden against the firm heat of his chest.
"Just a dream, then?"
"Hardly worth a single thought."
"Then it was a strange one. Especially that sun."
His head turns, lips pressed lightly against your forehead.
"A brave sun."
"Brave?"
"To try and outdo you."
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courtneedsatoru · 1 day ago
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hollowed angel
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pairing: gojo satoru x reader
synopsis: formerly a death angel curse who consumed the pain of abandoned souls, you were exorcised by the hands of strongest sorcerer of the heian era: gojo satoru. but now, thousands of years later, you unexpectedly reincarnate into a mortal sorcerer's body by mistake. but is it really a mistake? as you navigate your second chance at life with your past executioner, you learn what it means to be both curse and human, and realize that perhaps the line between the two is not as clear as you once thought.
tags: angst, fluff, romance, former curse! reader, high school! gojo satoru, canon-typical violence, depression and loneliness, will update tags as story progresses
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chapter 1: TBD
chapter 2: TBD
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a/n: hi! this is my first multi-chapter fic, and i have most of it planned out except for the ending. i'm estimating 10-15 chapters? if peeps are interested, i can do a tag list!
credits: banner and dividers made by me! plz do not copy or repost my work.
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rahuratna · 3 days ago
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😳🥺😭😭😭 I don't normally start off a comment with emojis, but wow. I'm a little at a loss here. This was such an insightful, true-to-character look at post-Shibuya Nanami. It was beautiful, poignant, it dealt with heavy issues like survivor's guilt and PTSD with such a delicate hand. I FELT every aspect of Reader's journey with Nanami, how surviving Shibuya would have left him with damage that would go so far beyond the physical.
I also love, love your depiction of Nanami's partner here. I feel like your Reader character is exactly the kind of person he would pick as his significant other, someone who exhibits the devotion, endless patience and warmth that he deserves, but also someone who will give him that push to make progress, to exit his comfort zone, to give him the hope that prevents him from sinking into despair.
The changes to his behavior while he recovers, his reaction to what he sees in the mirror, his attempts to close himself off and retreat into a dark place all ring so true in my mind. The scene in which he breaks the coffee mug was especially heart-wrenching, and wow, the heaviness I felt when he broke down and revealed his feelings. What a burden to carry, and I'm so taken with the way you've dealt with his realisation that his decision to pursue duty over his well-being impacts the people who love and care for him. That's a huge step for Nanami's character, and you've pulled it off spectacularly.
There are so many other details that I'd love to talk about here, but then I'll end up writing a whole essay, lol, so I'm going to go with the one that stuck with me the most: the symbolism of the wedding ring. It was as if, when he almost died, Nanami lost a fundamental part of himself, the part that let's us believe we can continue to do our duty until the impact on our body and mind is too much to bear. That part resonates with me on a highly personal level. His journey of recovery, back to the man who begins to understand that he deserves friends, people who care, a loving partner and his own happiness, is a long and arduous one. And when he finally puts the wedding ring on, it's an acknowledgement of his healing, that he is finally ready to confront those uncomfortable truths about himself and let go of the past that torments him.
Ugh,I just love everything about this fic. Thank you so much for writing this and giving me the post-Shibuya healing quotient I needed.
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Like A Million Yen
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Originally, I wanted to get this posted on the 31st of October… that clearly didn’t happen. Oh well.
Post-Shibuya!Nanami
Enjoy!
WC: 4.3 K
Panic overwhelmed you as you hurriedly scoured through the makeshift infirmary. The only sound registering in your ears was the thrumming of your erratic heartbeat and the rushing of blood.
You had known that Kento was called in to deal with an emergent mission that had suddenly sprung up on the both of you, but never in a million years could you have imagined something as grand-scale as this. The only thing that compared would probably have been the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons almost a year ago, but Kento managed to survive that situation relatively unscathed.
This time was different.
You had received the call from Yuuji, that Kento was severely injured and that you had to come quickly. The news, at first, startled you, but what scared you the most was how defeated and exhausted Yuuji’s voice sounded.
You acted fast, darting in and out of the curtained and sectioned off rooms, and past the lined up cots that held all of the other injured sorcerers and civilians. Though you couldn’t see yourself, you could only imagine how disheveled and wild you looked as you frantically searched for your husband.
“Mrs. Nanami!”
You stopped dead in your tracks, and turned to see Yuuji, all battered and cut up from the battle that had ensued. That he had survived.
You let out a breath of relief that you didn't even know that you were holding in, and rushed towards him, pulling him into your arms, and crushing him to your chest. You were grateful to see him on his feet, taking his appearance into consideration, of course, but you were thankful that he was alive and breathing, nonetheless.
"Thank God you're okay," you whispered, your hands tightly gripping at the back of his tattered uniform. You pulled away, and gently cupped the sides of his face. "Are you hurt?"
Yuuji, seemingly slipped into a dissociative state as he bore a thousand yard stare into your eyes as he looked back at you, blinked a couple of times as he was able register that you were speaking to him.
"I, uh... I'm fine Mrs. Nanami, I swear, " he stammered out, rather unconvincingly.
You were going to circle back to Yuuji whenever the circumstance would allow you to, but right now, you just wanted to be reunited with your husband more than anything.
"Yuuji, can you take me to Kento? I don't know where they're keeping him..." You've never sounded so small before. You hated it.
Yuuji grasped your wrist and led you to the farthest corner of the infirmary, guiding you to the end of a long line of curtained beds. You could feel your heart hammer against your chest the closer and closer you got to Kento, the beating sound beginning to overpower your sense of hearing. That's all you could really hear in that moment in time.
At the very end of the line, Yuuji stopped and pulled back the divider of the very last section, letting you go ahead of him into the tiny impromptu room. You hesitantly stepped in, your eyes landing on a figure that was laid on a cot.
As you approached, you could see that it was in fact Kento and that half of his body was wrapped up in white bandages, the other half was seemingly left unharmed. For the most part, at least. His hair was a birds nest upon his head, the skin that was left uncovered was bruised with black and blue marks, and he looked utterly exhausted.
You pulled up a chair that was in the room and placed it beside the cot, and took his hand in yours. His skin was warm to the touch, and you watched as his chest rose and fell with each breath he took, reinforcing the fact that your husband was alive. Injured and wounded to an extent that you didn't know of just quite yet, but alive, regardless. You brought his hand up to your lips and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of it, thanking whatever higher power would bother to even listen to you in that moment.
You held his hand up to your lips for a few seconds longer, before giving it a gentle squeeze.
"Nghh.... darling? Is that you?"
His voice pulled you out of your silent reverie, and you almost cried tears of joy when you saw your husbands uncovered eye looking at you blearily.
You wanted to throw yourself on top of his body, but rationality stopped you from doing so. So, instead, you opted to placing his palm on your cheek, trying to gain some semblance of control over your emotions as they began to spiral out of control the more that you leaned into his touch and sought out his warmth.
You wanted to be strong for Kento.
You had to be strong for Kento. Especially, considering that there was likely going to be a long road of recovery ahead of him.
You wanted, no, needed to be a rock for him to build his foundation on, like he had done for you many times before in times of turmoil for you.
"How are you feeling?" you managed to get out, your voice shaky.
He gave you a half-hearted smile. "Like a million yen, my love."
You leaned over him to press a kiss to his forehead, your lips lingering just a second too long. "Well, thank goodness for that." You tenderly pressed your forehead against his, closing your eyes as you just tried to bask in his presence and his touch.
"You're not going to be happy with me."
You pulled away, confused. "What? Why would I be unhappy with you?"
A tiny, sheepish grin. "I've lost my wedding ring."
~
You got the full story from Yuuji when Kento had been taken to a healing session with Shoko the next morning. He had been badly burned by some unregistered special grade, and, instead of seeking out help like he should have initially done, had recklessly put himself back into the line of duty and had fought off a horde of transfigured humans in his horrendously mutilated state in hopes of searching for his fallen comrades. He was about to be transfigured by the special grade that was responsible for the horde, some childlike curse named Mahito, but Yuuji, arriving at the eleventh hour, managed to prevent that from happening, swiftly dealing with it before anymore damage could occur.
You had made a mental note to thank Yuuji in some grand, special way that you could go about. Whether it would be a home cooked meal with all the stops pulled out, or, hell, maybe even adoption papers (though, that would have to definitely be discussed with Kento before anything like that came to fruition), you had to do something for the young sorcerer to properly thank him for saving your significant other.
Kento had been promptly discharged from acute medical observation after having spent a week within the confines of the Jujutsu High Infirmary and having numerous healing sessions with Shoko in the process. His red, angry burned left half of his body slowly dimmed to a lightly, flushed pink, and the hair on that side of his body was going to take come time to grow back, of course. Unfortunately, his left eye was something that Shoko regenerate, but he wasn't going to be able to see out of it, rendering him to the use of an eyepatch.
You had spent every waking moment with Kento, doing everything in your power to aide him and be of assistance to him in whatever way possible. You had helped him to the toilets whenever he needed to go, you helped bathe him all while trying to be conscientious of his healing skin, had been at his beck and call and had promptly forced him back into bed several times whenever he tried to go and do things independently.
He hated being catered to, being treated like he was incapable of doing things for himself, by himself. For you, however, he allowed the exception. Begrudgingly, if that.
The first few weeks back home were... uneasy, to say the least.
Every time that you caught Kento looking at himself in the mirror, you would see his mouth turn up in disgust, and he would briskly turn his head in the other direction. He didn't want to leave the apartment, fearing what the general public may think of him.
You've never known your husband to be extraordinarily vain, but you wanted to give him some grace. His appearance and some of his physical capabilities have been drastically changed, and the both of you needed to take some time to get used to it.
As time went on, his mood became more and more surly.
He had withdrawn within himself, and no matter how determined you were to try and coax out what he was truly feeling inside, he would shut down and go nonverbal.
What was most hurtful, however, was how reluctant he was to let you touch him, and vice versa. It seemed that any chance you would take to try and initiate some form of physical affection with him, Kento would immediately brush you off or straight up reject your advances.
"Not tonight, my love. I just want to go to bed."
"Not right now, darling. I'm not in the mood."
Oh, and you could forget about sex. There was no way in hell Kento allowed you to touch him in that sort of regard. Not that you wanted to get physically intimate with him, keeping in mind that he way still recovering from some pretty egregious injuries on the entire half of his left body.
It was just something that lingered in your mind for some time.
You knew that the road to recovery was going to going to be a long one, but you hadn't anticipated the man that your husband was becoming.
Or had already become.
Yuuji, Megumi, Ino, Ijichi, Shoko, and among others paid visits to your home, checking in the two of you to see how you were faring, Shoko mainly stopping in to see how Kento was healing in his post treatment. Shoko was really the only one that Kento allowed to see, hiding himself away in the safety and privacy of your bedroom if it was anyone else.
You knew at some point that Kento was going to have to talk to you, about anything and everything that was going on inside him. It was just a matter of when it was going to happen.
The straw that broke the camels back was when Kento, all while trying to enjoy a cup of coffee at the dining table, accidentally lost his grip on his mug, causing it to shatter on the ground, allowing the contents to spill out all over the floor.
"God dammit!" he quietly snarled to himself as he leaned down beside the chair to pick up the shards of the mug, his hands trembling.
You rushed forward with a dish towel, trying to beat him to the shards of the broken mug. "Here, let me-"
You threw the towel over the mess, as you tenderly picked up the bits of the broken mug and placed them in the palm of your hand, careful not to try and pierce yourself with them.
"I'm sorry."
You paused, looking up at him questionably. "Why are you sorry? It was an accident, Kento. This hardly deserves an apology."
A forlorn look crossed his facial features, the unmarred half of his face scrunching up like he was trying to fight off an onslaught of tears that welled up in his eyes. As he sat there, his emotions brewing within him, he felt like he was a child again. The despair and turmoil swirling in both his chest and his abdomen, overwhelming him as his current state of mind rendered him to feel as if these things were too … too complex for him to process, like he was experiencing it again for the very first time. It was as if the world was too big for him, and he was too small for it. "No. I'm sorry."
You realized that this was more than just the spilled coffee and the broken mug. You stood up, holding the mug in the safety net of the dish rag, watching as Kento began to speak his piece.
A few tears managed to spill over, and you watched as they rolled down his cheek. “When I was sucked into the domain expansion of that water-based Curse along with Maki, Megumi, and Naobito, I thought of you.” He wiped away at the tears on his cheek, keeping his head down so he wouldn’t meet your gaze. "When I was burned by that unregistered special grade, I thought of you. I had… I could’ve gone back to Shoko. I should have gone back…"
You remained silent as your husband broke open before you, the floodgates now barreling wide open. He hunched his shoulders forward, leaning somewhat of his weight onto the table as a sob ripped through his core.
"I nearly died, and left you behind."
In that moment, the reality of the ordeal that Kento survived seemed to finally sink in. The repressed shock and horror coming to the forefront of his mind, forcing him to relive those moments, from the moment when he first set foot within the veil to nearly dying at the hands of the Special-Grade Curse in the Shibuya subway station. He buried his face into his hands and cried, his entire trunk rattling with each shaky breath he took.
He cried for the fact that students, fellow sorcerers, and innocent civilians alike were murdered in cold blood. He cried for the fact that he wasn't able to protect Maki, Megumi, and Naobito from the unregistered special grade. He cried for the fact, that instead of seeking help when he was gravely injured, that he foolishly put himself back onto the frontline. He cried for the fact that he was content with dying at the hands of Mahito, with the prospect of you becoming a widow at such a young age, especially when the pair of you had only been married for a little over two years.
It became clear to you that Kento was suffering from survivor’s guilt. To him, why was he, out of everyone who responded to the incident in Shibuya, allowed to survive?
Why was he granted the ability to continue on living, when there were people who were far more deserving of it?
You set the dishrag on the table top, unable to idly stand by while Kento was in distress. With careful hesitation, you slowly extended your hand out to him, softly touching his shoulder as they shook with sobs. You held still for a moment, trying to gauge his reaction to your physical contact with him, unsure if he would allow you to continue any further.
When he didn't flinch away or move your hand off his shoulder, you cautiously inched closer to him and pulled him by his shoulders into you, letting him bury his face into your chest. You wrapped your arms around his head, threading your fingers into his hair.
"How can you stand to touch me?! Or even be near me?! I'm hideous," he sobbed, his voice muffled.
"I married you for you, remember?"
Kento lifted his face out of the valley of your breasts and met your gaze, his eyes swollen and teary. You tenderly placed a hand on the scarred side of his face, and stroked his cheekbone with your thumb.
"Is this okay?"
He nodded mutely, and closed his eyes, leaning his face into your hand. Kento denied himself the joy of your touch and comfort since he’s been back home with you, out of the shame and humiliation that he harbored for himself.
"I married a kind, gentle, and loving man. A courageous, and valiant man, someone who abnegates himself and his own safety for those he oversees, especially for his students, so that they can make it back home to their loved ones alive and breathing." You leaned down and pressed a kiss to the crown of his hair. "I’m blessed to have such a wonderful person to call mine. Above all, I’m blessed that this person allows me to call them mine, and that they chose me, out of all the potential partners that they could have had… they chose me." You leaned down and pressed a kiss to each of his closed eyelids, your lips lingering on his left side for a second longer than the right side. "And I am forever grateful for that."
A beat of silence passed between the two of you after you finished speaking.
"I should be dead."
Dread washed through you at his statement, but you quickly pushed it to the side, trying to remain steadfast. "But you’re not, Kento. You’re here with me."
Kento gently pushed you back several inches, giving him some room to stand up from the chair to his full height. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into his front, allowing you to place the side of your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.
"And for that, my love, I am forever grateful."
~
Both you and Kento weaved your way through the crowds as the two of you trekked to the underground labyrinth that was the Tokyo subway station. You were headed back Jujutsu Tech for a final checkup appointment with Shoko for Kento.
It wasn't easy to convince him to step out of your shared apartment for the first time, but with enough encouragement and persuading from your end, he finally gave in. One of the conditions, however, was that you accompany him on his appointment and that you find him an eyepatch to wear over his left eye.
You also saw that as an opportunity to see Yuuji. You know that the poor boy has been worried sick over Kento.
You hadn't noticed that there was a slight lag in Kento's hold on your hand as you led him through the crowds until you suddenly were yanked backwards, making you groan out a soft 'oof'.
You turned around to see what was the matter, only to find Kento's gaze focused on a point in the distance, his stare unblinking. You craned your head the other way to see what he was so focused on.
B5.
You heard his respiration hitch and pick up in rate, teetering towards hyperventilating the more he stared at the sign on the wall.
"Hey, hey, hey," you gently cooed, quickly jumping into action to try and prevent a full on panic attack out in the open. You grabbed hold of Kento's face with both of your hands, pulling his gaze away from the sign to bring his eyes down to yours. "Look at me, nothing's going to happen. I promise."
"I...I can't-" his voice sounds strangled.
"Yes, you can. Mahito was exorcised, Yuuji saw it happen himself. You're not as injured as you were before. You're healed. I'm with you, and I'll be with you every step of the way."
Kento visibly relaxed to a certain extent the more you soothe him, your rationality of the situation overpowering his anxiety.
"Here's what's going to happen: we're going to get on the subway, like the many times that we've done before. We're going to ride the subway for six stops until we get to the stop that's ten minutes away from Jujutsu Tech. We'll leave the station, and walk the ten minutes to campus so Shoko can check you out one last time and then we're going to pay Yuuji a visit in his dorm. Don't you need to thank him still?"
He nodded, his shoulders sagging as his head dropped.
"Then let's go, yeah? We’re about to miss our train." You offered him a full hearted smile as you tugged him towards the station.
He let out an apprehensive sigh, letting you guide him forward.
Kento maintained an ironlike grip on your hand as the two of you rode the train, his eye flitting between you and the other passengers, constantly surveying his surroundings in fear that danger would arise at any moment. You silently reassured him by squeezing his hand every so often, your thumb softly stroking the backside of his hand wherever you could reach.
As you expected, the train ride went without a hitch as the car rolled to a stop at your desired destination. He maintained his hold on your hand as you climbed the stairs out of the subway station, slowly but surely releasing some of the tension in his grip.
"See? What'd I tell you?" You leaned up to peck his cheek, reaching the top of the stairs.
"We're having Ijichi drive us back," he grumbled, a scowl forming on his face.
"Ijichi's out attending to a mission with Panda. And besides, this is good exposure therapy for you."
"Ugh."
The appointment with Shoko also went without any issues, with her performing a full body examination on Kento, testing his movements and reflexes on his left side, while getting updates on how he was faring back home. Shoko also let out a low hum of approval at the mention of Kento getting back onto the subway. She signed off on his case file, granting him full permission to get back out into the field, though, all parties in the conversation knew that the possibility of that actually happening was few and far between.
Yuuji was ecstatic to see the two of you standing outside of his dorm, yelping out a lively "Nanamin!" as he launched himself onto Kento, engulfing him into a bear hug.
Kento, taking it all in stride, chuckled and patted the back of Yuuji's head with his free hand. "Hello, Itadori-kun."
The young boy wasted no time, pulling the two of you into his dorm room, filling you in on everything that had gone on campus, mainly sticking around Toge, Panda, and Megumi as everyone was still trying to recover from the grand scale attack that was Shibuya. You had learned of the fates of Nobara and Maki, Kento softly exhaling out a breath that he didn't even realize that he was holding in, now knowing that Maki was alive and well, just recovering from extreme burns like he had been, as well as Nobara also narrowly escaping death from Mahito, permanently blinding her from her left eye.
Both girls were still in recovery. Kento made mental notes to himself to check in on them whenever his schedule would allow him to. He also made a mental note to scold Nobara whenever he would get the chance to, now remembering that he had instructed both her and Nitta to stay behind and wait for help after he had saved them from the fool with the hand for sword.
"Come over for dinner on Sunday? I'll make your favorite dish, whatever it is," you asked Yuuji as you and Kento headed towards the door, planning on taking your leave.
"Yes, please, Mrs. Nanami! I would love to!"
"Good. You need a proper meal and I know that the convenience store ramen and snacks aren't doing a good enough job of keeping you healthy and strong. The door is open whenever you would like to come over."
As you turned to open the door, you were stopped by an "Oh, wait, Nanamin!"
Kento looked over his shoulder to see Yuuji rummaging through his bedside drawer, before picking up an object that was small enough to fit into the palm of his hand.
"I remember the last time I visited your apartment, you had mentioned that Nanamin had lost his wedding ring. So... I figured... y'know?"
Yuuji presented with an open palm, the wedding ring that Kento had been missing since the 31st of October.
"Itadori-kun..." Kento gasped, fully facing Yuuji now as he grabbed the piece of jewelry out of his hand. "How... how did you find this?" He turned the ring all over, inspecting it to find your initials and the date of your wedding inscribed on the inside of his band, thus cementing the fact that it was his wedding band.
"I went back to the Shibuya station and checked all of the lost and founds that were available there," Yuuji answered brightly, watching with joy as Kento slipped the ring into his suit jacket pocket. "When I couldn't find it there, I searched all of the floors and just... got lucky, I guess."
"You have no idea how happy this has made me, Itadori-kun," Kento beamed at Yuuji, reaching forward to pull him into a hug. "Thank you."
Yuuji wordlessly accepted the hug, resting his chin on his shoulder as he squeezed him back.
You watched the scene unfold, a sense of warmth spreading through your chest.
You reminisced on the moments that you and Yuuji shared when Kento was still in the infirmary, thinking on how much Yuuji came to care for him, not just as his mentor, but as a father figure, one that he never got to experience for himself. You knew how much he valued your husband's opinion, and desperately wanted to earn his respect.
He must have been over the moon.
Kento pulled away, giving his shoulder a light squeeze. "See you Sunday, yeah?"
"Yeah. Of course, Nanamin. I'll see you and Mrs. Nanami there."
"Alright. Take care of yourself, Itadori-kun."
As you left the main building and ventured into the courtyard, heading to the main entrance of Jujutsu Tech, Kento stopped you, as he dug back into his suit jacket.
"Here." He presented you with his ring. "I want you to do it."
With careful fingers, you gingerly took the ring from his fingers and slid it back onto his left fourth digit. You peered up at him. "How are you feeling, Ken?"
He swooped his left hand with yours and brought it up to his lips, placing a kiss to the back of it.
"Like a million yen, my love."
And this time, he truly meant it.
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jjkrarepairfest · 2 days ago
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Interest Check for the JJK RarePair Fest 2025 is now open!
>>>>>INTEREST CHECK FORM<<<<<
>>>>>FAQ<<<<<
Interest check open until January 10th, come help us finalize the details for the event!!
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cr4yolaas · 2 days ago
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WHIPLASH — ARMAGEDDON.
she only has three fears in journalism — her editors-in-chief, deadlines, and uncooperative subjects. on good days, she doesn’t have to worry about this at all. on others, they all come at once to haunt her.
000. prologue / masterlist / 002. that’s the industry, baby!
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★ megs’ text at the start will make sense next few chapters 🤭
★ yn rlly does try her best to be the ideal corporate sweetheart. but unfortunately there are limits
★ 7:3 ratio … nanami reference …
★ technically nanamin isn’t involved in this universe but i’ll find a way !!! i need my man in here
★ nobara toge beef is a constant
★ yuta has learned to block it out
★ on the other hand, yuuji has not learned how to avoid or ignore megs’ temper
★ not that the anger is ever directed at him but it’s like he’s on his period sometimes and that scares yuuji
★ panda is in ignorant bliss
TAGLIST: @kameyyy @s777athv @solecitoszn @1l-ynn @valvoria @standcom @kissingkzuha @hqnge @applepi25 @fushiguruuzzzz @reveurdoll @anotherwriternamedclara @sh0ot1ngst4r @starrysho @lizbix @diearama
divider creds @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more
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thisonegirl · 2 days ago
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And What If...
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pairing : geto suguru x reader rating : nsfw warnings : mentioned of infertility; swearing ; angst (a lil bit) ; descriptions of sexual activities wc : 1.6k (unedited)
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Your scalp ached from the tight grip Geto had on your hair as he roughly pounded into you from behind. You shook from both pleasure and exhaustion, sweat rolled down your skin and the heat that spread through your body was almost unbearable but you couldn’t get enough of it.
With a hand occupied in your hair, his other one snaked around your waist pulling you up to where your back was against his sweaty chest. That same hand then made its way down to your pussy and began rubbing soft circles against your clit, a stark difference from the roughness of his thrust.
“Oh fuck, baby,” you squealed out feeling the overstimulation creep up but you welcomed it. 
“You like that baby?” He groaned against your ear, to which you moaned in response, “use your words angel… tell me…”
“Fuck yea,” you whimpered.
You reached an arm behind you and turned your head pulling Geto into a kiss. The desperation of it made it wetter and sloppier than it needed to be. Your teeth and tongues clashed aggressively as you felt him let go of your hair and instead wrap it around your throat with a firm grip.
“Ah, I’m close, I’m so so close…” you whined as his thrust grew rougher and he rubbed your clit faster.
“Yea? You gonna cum all over me again?” He hissed, “come on baby, let it go for me.”
As though his words were a command, you obeyed, letting the force of the orgasm shake you and reduce you into a trembling and moaning mess. 
Much to your (mis)fortune, Geto wasn’t even close yet. As you came, you had no time to come down from that high when you felt another creeping in again but with much more intensity. Geto let your body fall forward onto the bed still fucking you with his body pressed firmly against yours. The weight was nearly crushing but you couldn’t get yourself to even give a fuck.
“G-Geto,” you breathed out, “its t-too much.”
He chuckled softly in your ear, not letting up one bit as you felt your mind and body burst, “you want me to stop? You know the word, angel. Just say it,”
You gave no answer. You didn’t want him to stop. Your mind was far gone and you like it that way.
“So? Should I stop?” He asked, slowing his pace down. You whined and his teasing, shaking your head and begging him to keep going.
He picked his pace up, going harder than before.
“Ah yes, fuck!” You screamed out. You felt him lift his body from off of you and gripping waist.
“I’m close baby,” he groaned, the words shakily leaving his mouth, “ can I come inside you? Please angel, please let me cum inside your tight little pussy,” he all but begged. It made you even wetter than what you thought was possible.
“Yes, yes, yes,” you chanted, “cum inside me. I wanna feel your cum in my pussy,” His thrust grew faster and sloppier and you felt another orgasm coming up.
“I’m coming,” he let out a long groan and you, a moan as you both reached your peaks. His thrusts slowed as he pumped his load deep into your pussy while you twitched around his cock feeling the warmth of his cum inside you. 
Once done, he slid out of you and collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms and placing small pecks around your face.
“That was amazing,” you whispered tiredly against his chest. 
“As always,” he responded, “and before you fall asleep, let go take a shower.”
“Ugh, I’m too tired,” you groan in discontent.
“Yeah, but I’m sure you’ll sleep a lot better after a nice warm shower so come on,” 
Geto, being the gentleman that he is, carried you to the bathroom and placed you in the shower. As he helped you wash yourself, thought about how lucky you were to have such a thoughtful and considerate husband. Truly a blessing.
“D’you think I finally got a baby in you?” Geto asked, breaking the silence you dwelled in as you laid in bed ready to sleep.
“I don’t know,” you snorted. It wasn’t the first time he brought up the desire of having a baby with you, something you were completely on board with just not with the same amount of enthusiasm as Geto.
Since before you had gotten married, he always spoke about his wish to build a life and a family with you. When you finally tied the knot, you immediately discarded any birth control and started trying to have a baby.
You hadn’t been trying for long but you couldn’t help but feel impatient and somewhat worried that your attempts had not worked yet.
“Hm… with a load like that, I for sure did,” he joked crassly, you gently slapped his arm as he laughed at your blushing face.
“Well don’t say it like that, jeez,” you cringed, scrunching your face in disgust. 
“I’m serious though,” he said with the tone to match his statement, “I have a feeling this is gonna be it.”
You smiled softly, hoping that it would disguise the anxiety that brewed within as the dread of disappointing him again filled you. 
“What if…” you trailed off. Did you really want to ask him what would happen if you couldn’t conceive? Like at all? No. “What if the girls don’t react well to the news? They are a couple of daddy’s girls,” you asked with a forced chuckle but realistic enough for Geto to not have noticed.
“They won’t. I actually think they’d be excited since they’ve been hinting about having a little sibling,” he said with a light chuckle that just tightened your heart even further.
You wanted to share your concerns with him but didn’t want to shatter his dreams and expectations. You’ve tried to convince yourself that you might just be overthinking things but the longer it took to conceive, the harder it was to gaslight yourself. 
Knowing that Mimiko and Nanako were actually looking forward to something you weren’t fully sure you could give, made the situation even harder for you.
Your mind swirled around with anxious thoughts as Geto slept beside you. You debated with yourself on how to broach the subject but couldn’t quite figure it out. You had a family, a little one that you both built together and it was enough for the both of you but the expectation of a little additional bundle has swollen your hearts with joy and excitement that now you wondered if you could shatter it for everyone involved, including the girls.
You felt like crying, feeling the weight of your failure upon your shoulders. You knew you weren’t less than but you sure felt like it. 
Soon, you too had fallen asleep, joining Geto who was already deep in his slumber. As you slept, your thoughts continued to manifest themselves as dreams, or rather, nightmares that plagued your sleep making it restless.
You woke up feeling tired the next morning. Geto was still resting peacefully beside you. You almost envied the tranquility he felt, having nothing to worry about. 
You studied his face as he slept. His masterpiece of a face as you’d often put it. You let your fingers softly trail down his nose to his slightly parted lips. You shifted your head on his chest to rest on your chin, still taking in his features.
Your mind soon brought forward a conversation you had previously had about what your child would look like. You recalled how he said he hoped they got your eyes and you said you hoped they got his nose. You’d imagine your lives out loud, building up the excitement to live it.
Your mood dampened as the memories became overshadowed by your fear. You had to tell him. For one, you were married. You were a unit and a partnership. You knew he would support you as much as you needed, if you needed it. You knew he would love you regardless of whatever the issue was. You knew he would tell you everything would be alright and whatever else you needed to hear.
But you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t vocalize it. You couldn’t bring forth that thought and turn it into reality, ultimately shifting everything. You didn’t know if you had the courage and strength for it. At the same time you knew you had to. He deserved to know.
“What are you thinking about?” His hoarse voice, saddled with tiredness, startled you from out of your thoughts. His eyes were still closed.
ªNothing…” you responded.
“You know I can tell when you’re lying, right?” he said, opening his eyes ever so slightly as he adjusted to the light in the room, “tell me what’s wrong.”
Sighing, you opted to tell him the truth and let out your concern, “What if I can’t get pregnant?”
Your heart started racing as you uttered those words. You looked at him worried and anxiously as you waited for his response. 
“Then I guess it's just gonna be us,” he responded coolly, “We have everything we need and want right here, right now, and if not having a baby won’t take anything from it.”
“But you and the girls --” 
“The girls will understand. And for me, as long as I have the three of you, I’m more than fine,” he concluded before placing a kiss on your forehead.
You let his words stew for a bit, still undecided if you believed him or not. You wanted to for you peace of mind above all else but you couldn’t fully accept his words.
“Hey,” he whispered, “I mean it. We’re gonna be fine.” He pulled you into a kiss as though to seal his words. Though they didn’t ease you as much as he likely wanted them to, they did comfort you to a minimal extent. Enough to force you into making a conscious effort to lean towards a more positive mindset.
“We’ll be fine,”  You repeated his words, drawing out a small smile from him as he leaned his forehead against yours.
——————————
masterlist
got a block halfway through so the ending is a bit shitty 😭😭
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everythingseasoning · 2 days ago
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You can comment under this linked post to be on the tag list! Limited spots. Please note that this fanfiction will be particularly long, I’m talking 10K in the first chapter. It’s worth it for those who want slow burn romance, plot, & character development! That’s what this fic is all about, after all. Hope you come along for the ride!!
Something More - Series Masterlist
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Pairing: Sorcerer Geto x Non Sorcerer reader. Sorcerer Gojo x Non Sorcerer reader. Only one ship will prevail, and this is the story of Suguru being saved. (Pushed back a few years, with 21+ characters). It’s riddled with angst, it’s messy, and it’s so difficult, but it’s realistic.
Author’s Note: Pre Series: Hey all! We will be exploring: Satoru starting to learn about connection beyond Jujutsu and Suguru; We’ll deal with the tide of darkness that threatens to overtake Suguru, exploring what it takes to save Suguru; And Satoru is beginning to learn that he’s more than a weapon. Includes: grief, hurt/comfort, angst, ego death, coming back from a spiral through support & love & time, breaking free from what you were conditioned to be, jealousy, developing self-identity & dreams, and more. Satoru heavy in the beginning, Suguru heavy in the middle. Chapters will be lengthy, but it’s worth it. My second series will follow up with a new reader x Satoru, and it will be a continuation of this story, but with different main characters. Hope you come along for the ride :)
Premise: Suguru never stopped loving you. He’d broken up with you, but that was to protect you. He wouldn’t involve you in his dangerous life anymore. One year later, and it’s evident that he’d still ruin himself for you, in every single way. Satoru, on the other hand, is annoyed. He wants Suguru to get his head back in the game, as they’re both teachers now. Determined to figure out a solution to the problem of you, Satoru starts to secretly visit you at your workplace, the local cafe. But as he spends time with you, Satoru gets an unexpected surprise when he realizes he’s catching feelings for you, too.
Status: ongoing
Word Count:
Warnings: Swearing. Canon violence. Eventual smut (chapters 13, 17). Mature themes, viewer discretion is advised.
[JJK Masterlist]
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ch. 01 | The Person In The Cafe
ch. 02 | Second First Date, Question Mark
ch. 03 | Warm / CLASH
ch. 04 | Weaknesses, Weaknesses
ch. 05 | Cursed Either Way
ch. 06 | ‘You’re A Shitty Teacher’ - First Lesson
ch. 07 | Sudden Death. What Was I Made For?
ch. 08 | Picking Up The Pieces - ‘Just Hold Them In Your Hands’
ch. 09 | What Are We?
ch. 10 | Slaughter Of The Lambs / Crushed To The Darkest Depths (Suguru’s POV)
ch. 11 | Don’t You Dare
ch. 12 | —Saved.
ch. 13 | Put One Foot Forward (mature)
ch. 14 | A Hundred Kilometers Backwards
ch. 15 | I’m Going To Get Them Back
ch. 16 | Bodyguards And New Fates
ch. 17 | Sunrise And Acceptance (mature)
ch. 18 | Back To Everything And Nothing / Forever Love, Tied Knots
[bonus chapter] ch. 19 | Don’t Give Up Anymore / Chance To Be Me / Evermore (Satoru’s POV)
NTS: ^chapter titles and chapter numbers are subject to change as I write the story
Reblogs, Feedback/Comments are Highly Appreciated!
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Tag List ( Comment on this linked post to be added :)
Background Info || Asks || Feedback and Love
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Author’s Note: Post Series:
I: Canon Suguru did defect. And this story is for him, the version of him that suffered so much, and broke. This story is for everybody who was once caring, but got traumatized deeply, used over and over, and consequently turned bitter and disillusioned. You deserved better. Please try to remember there is goodness out there, and that being kind and good to others is still of utmost importance.
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Spinoff Series: Story’s Not Over (ft. Satoru x new reader)
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cannibalistickitty · 6 hours ago
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—HEAD IN THE
WALL—
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୨୧ plot: you knew your boyfriend had trouble showing affection but did he even like you?
୨୧ warnings: angst, happy ending, ooc!megumi but IDGAF!!!!
୨୧ notes: help this has been rotting in my drafts for months anyways happy b-day megumi:3 here’s an angsty fic for y’all😇
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you knew he loved you, maybe you hoped he did . it was fine that he couldn’t show his affection, that was okay . but sometimes you needed it . you were understanding, but when he gave a girl his number because she seemed “nice” you wanted reassurance, you wanted to feel it, feel and know that he loved you . megumi sat on the edge of your bed, you had been talking for about a half hour, every once and a while he would nod and give short responses, was he even listening to you? he wanted to keep your relationship a secret, you didn’t know why but he said it would just be for the best
the doorbell rang, you quickly opened the door to see nobara and yuji outside your house . you four had planned to go out and get lunch, megumi quickly put on his shoes, you had already been ready for an hour . now you were walking to the small cafe where you were gonna eat, today you felt brave, so you brushed your hand against megumi’s, trying to hold his hand . yet he just pulled away and went to catch up with nobara and yuji who were in front of you both, leaving you to walk alone
you felt like crying . you didn’t even feel like talking to him, you knew he had trouble showing affection but it felt you questioning if he even liked you . you could only hope he did
lunch was…interesting, you stayed quiet the whole time . megumi had seemed to notice but he didn’t quite care . you and him lived on the same street so when you all split up to go home you were stuck with him, it shouldn’t be awkward, you love each other . but it was, it was really awkward . the walk home was silent, occasional throat clearing was all that was heard . “you wanna come over to my house?” you asked megumi in an almost pathetic tone
“oh—uhm—I have some things to do . at home .” you awkwardly nodded, “kay” you unlocked your door and slipped inside your house, you ran up to your bedroom and grabbed your phone, playing your favourite cry song, what else was a hurt girl supposed to do? you sobbed into your pillow, you missed him . you missed when you were friends, somehow he was more open before . you cried on your bed for what felt like hours, you couldn’t take feeling like this, you felt unloved . you turned off the music playing in your headphones and sighed
days went by where you didn’t see him, you completely ignored him, you truly didn’t want to see him . yet you were the only thing on his mind, he wanted to see you and feel you again, he regretted not holding your hand, he knew it meant a lot to you . he felt like he failed you . lucky for him you were only a minute away from him . on a Sunday night he made his way over to your house, he missed your voice, maybe you’d be up to hanging out?
he rang your doorbell, you were usually the one to answer, and just like every time you when the door opened there you were dressed in your pjs . “megumi? what are you doing here?” he froze, he didn’t know what to say, he probably should have practiced what he was gonna say . “I—miss you?” it came out more like a question, the frown on your face indicated you interpreted it as a question . “that sounded like a question, megumi” you said in a flat tone
“fuck” he whispered, the one time he tried to finally share something with you he did it wrong . “do you wanna come…inside?” he nodded and you stepped aside, closing the door and leading him to your room . he sat down on your bed with you, “can i ask you something?” his head perked up, “uhm—sure” you sighed, “do you actually love me?” his eyes widened, he didn’t know what to do, he didn’t want to be vulnerable but he didn’t even want to let you down again
“please don’t..lie to me” the fact that you thought he’d have to lie about loving you hurt him . he wanted, no, he needed to show how much he loved you, so he thought what better time to do it then now? “i love you” he gently grabbed your hands in his, his sudden action shocked you . he let go of your hands and hugged you, everything that didn’t happen was happening at once . “megumi what has gotten into you” you chuckled, “i love you, a lot” he mumbled into the crook of your neck . he wanted to hold you forever and reassure you that he did love you, but for now he could just hold you
since that night he’d been more affectionate, not too much but enough for you . he told a couple of his friends about your relationship, and now he would hold your hand in public, sometimes . your connection felt stronger, sometimes when you would kiss him you noticed a light tint of pink of his cheeks . you felt like you had him back, like your megumi was finally here . you had planned your first sleepover, it was on a saturday night and it just you and megumi
saturday night came quickly, you and megumi laid in your bed, no lights on except your small salt lamp next to your bed . you were both getting sleepy, rain tapped against the window as megumi read a book to you, he noticed how you started to look very tired, like you were about to fall asleep . “okay i think that’s enough for tonight” he said and you nodded, he put the book down on your nightstand and shifted into a more comfortable position . he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you against his chest, what was he doing? he absolutely never did this
“gumi what are you doing?” you said in almost shock, “cuddling my girl, what else would i be doing?” he muttered into your hair, “mh—okay, goodnight…” you said in a suspicious tone, he kissed your neck, “goodnight” he said before turning the lamp off
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paranoiddreams · 21 days ago
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Satoru who does not give a single FUCK that you haven’t shaved. You both were getting freaky, all over each other with heavy breaths, until you feel his hand go down to your pants.
“No,” you pant out breathlessly, “let me just do you.”
Satoru isn’t displeased to hear those words—he never is and never will be—but he still grunts in confusion. “What?” He asked blankly, as if you’d told him you killed his cat.
“I haven’t shaved,” you groan in explanation, getting restless now, “so let me just suck—“
You don’t even finish your sentence before he’s flipping you over like a toy beneath him, his eyes full of hunger. His hands go to the hem of your pants again, wasting no time to pull them off, along with your underwear.
Your throbbing heat lies beneath him as you try to cover your face, way too embarrassed and flushed with heat to look at him. But Satoru doesn’t care. He leans down and dives in with no hesitation.
“Do you think I care?” I mumbles against your sex, raising his hand to land a firm smack on your wiggling hips. “You think I fucking care if this beautiful cunt has a little hair?”
You can only mewl and squirm under his tight grip, his tongue darting out to tease you every other word. “S-Satoru!” You can’t help but squeal, the words you want to use stuck in your throat as jolts of pleasure rack your body.
“What love?” He grins, the vibration of his laugh against your skin. “M’ just trynna enjoy my meal…”
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Idk how I feel abt this one, but I hope you guys enjoy. I woke up just a few minutes ago to post this, may or may not have had a dream abt this🥲
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sukuna-ryo · 3 days ago
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Jjk Men in Fairytale Retellings
»»———- .................... ———-««
𝕮𝖎𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖆 𝕮𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖔 <3
(10k words)
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Content Warnings: Cinderella Choso × Fem Prince Charming Reader. This is kinda genderbender. The women follow male gender norms and men follow female gender norms, but they're still women and men respectively. And yes, choso is wearing a dress and panties, that's intentional.
Explicit Sexual Content, MDNI. P in V. Unprotected Sex. Oral (f & m receiving). Face Sitting. Size Kink. Overstimulation. Exhibitionism. Slight Dub-Con. Idk what else to add, tell me if I missed something.
Thank you @daymarenightdream1 , @h0n3ysgh0st and pinkie for being my beta readers and helping with the cw.
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𝔒𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔲𝔭𝔬𝔫 𝔞 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢, in a world where gender norms are not quite what we're used to, there lived Cinderella Choso. He was a soft-spoken, kind-hearted boy who somehow managed to make even the simplest dresses look elegant—duh. His days were filled with chores, thanks to his stepmother, Kenjaku, and his two over-the-top stepsisters, Eso and Kechizu, who treated him more like a servant than family.
That morning, Cinderella Choso was on his hands and knees, scrubbing the already spotless floor, when Kenjaku sauntered into the room, holding a cup of tea like it was a trophy.
“You missed a spot,” Kenjaku said lazily, gesturing vaguely at the floor with the kind of smugness only a true villain could pull off.
Choso paused, tilting his head to inspect the gleaming tiles. “Where?”
Kenjaku raised an eyebrow, taking a slow sip of tea. “Emotionally. The floor doesn’t feel clean.”
Choso blinked at him, then decided not to respond. He wasn’t sure what that even meant, and honestly, he didn’t care to find out. Arguing with Kenjaku was like trying to reason with a storm—it was loud, exhausting, and always left him feeling worse.
In the other room, Eso and Kechizu were bickering loudly over their outfits for the royal ball that night.
“I’ll win over prince Y/N for sure,” Eso declared, holding up a sequined gown that sparkled so brightly it practically blinded Choso from where he was standing. He twirled dramatically, nearly knocking over a vase in the process.
“You? Win over the prince? Don’t make me laugh,” Kechizu snapped, holding a pair of heeled slippers like they were some kind of weapon. “I’ll be the one to catch her eye. You don’t even know how to walk in heels.”
“Better than you!” Eso shot back, his voice rising in indignation.
Cinderella Choso just kept scrubbing, doing his best to tune them out. This was normal, after all. He’d grown up in this chaos, surrounded by people who seemed to thrive on drama. The royal ball wasn’t meant for someone like him, anyway. It was for people like Eso and Kechizu—people who fit into that glittering world. He wasn’t bitter about it. Just… resigned.
By the time the house had emptied and the carriage had rolled away, Cinderella Choso found himself sitting by the fireplace, the only sound the faint crackle of the flames. He stared at the mop leaning against the wall, considering whether he should name it. At least it wouldn’t talk back.
The room felt emptier than usual, and though he wasn’t one to dwell on things, a small part of him couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like—to dress up, to dance, to be seen as more than just the boy in the shadows.
But that kind of life wasn’t meant for him. Or so he thought.
Then, with a loud poof that sent soot flying everywhere, a man appeared. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and shirtless, because apparently magical beings don’t believe in modesty. Tattoos coiled up his arms and across his chest, and he had this grin that could only be described as “murderous.” His pink hair was messy in an I-don’t-care way, and he had sharp, glowing eyes that made Choso immediately question if this guy was here to help or hurt.
“Ugh, look at you,” the man said, sneering as he glanced around the room. “Pathetic. Sitting in a pile of ash like some tragic little loser. No wonder your life sucks.”
Cinderella Choso blinked, taken aback. “Uh… who are you?”
“I’m your Fairy Godmother,” the man announced, planting his glowing staff on the ground with a thud. “But you can call me Sukuna. Let’s get this pity party over with so you can go embarrass yourself at the ball.”
Choso frowned. “Aren’t Fairy Godmothers supposed to be… you know, nice?”
Sukuna raised an eyebrow. “I’m nice enough to show up and fix your dumpster-fire life, aren’t I? Be grateful.”
Choso just stared. Sukuna, clearly unbothered, started waving his staff around like he was conducting an orchestra. “Alright, enough whining. Let’s make you look less… tragic.”
He raised his staff without waiting for an answer, muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like an insult, and in an instant, Cinderella Choso’s plain, soot-stained dress shimmered and transformed. The fabric turned into a soft, flowing baby-pink gown, delicate as a rose petal, with subtle silver accents that sparkled under the flickering firelight. The sleeves were sheer and billowy, giving the outfit an ethereal touch, and the neckline was modest yet elegant, perfectly suited to someone as shy and unassuming as Choso.
His hair, which had been loosely tied back in a messy bun, now fell in smooth waves down his back, held in place by a small, glimmering clip shaped like a crescent moon. On his feet were glass slippers—simple and lovely but with heels that looked slightly impractical, as if designed by someone who didn’t care much about comfort.
Cinderella Choso blushed as he glanced at his reflection in the cracked mirror on the wall. “It’s… nice,” he murmured, smoothing the fabric nervously. “I like it.”
“Of course, you do. I made it,” Sukuna said, crossing his arms and grinning smugly. “Now, let’s get you out of here before I change my mind.”
He waved his staff again with dramatic flair, and a nearby pumpkin swelled and stretched until it became a sleek, elegant carriage. A group of rats squeaked in protest as they were magically transformed into well-groomed horses, their tiny tails vanishing with a poof.
“Rules are simple,” Sukuna said, grabbing a sparkly mask from thin air and tossing it to Choso. “Be back by 3 a.m., or everything goes back to normal. That includes your dress, your carriage, and probably your dignity. Got it?”
Choso nodded, clutching the mask tightly.
“And for the love of everything holy, don’t embarrass me out there,” Sukuna added, glaring at him. “You’re wearing a baby-pink dress to a ball. The bar for failure is low.”
Cinderella Choso felt his cheeks heat up but chose not to respond. Instead, he carefully climbed into the carriage, his hands trembling slightly as he adjusted the skirt of his gown.
Sukuna watched him go, leaning casually on his staff. “Good luck, kid,” he muttered, his voice softer but still teasing. “You’ll need it.”
As the carriage rolled away into the night, Cinderella Choso took a deep breath, his heart racing. He had no idea what to expect, but for the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to feel a tiny spark of excitement.
And so, Cinderella Choso was off to the ball, and somewhere along the way meet you—Prince Charming, the most ridiculously charming woman in the kingdom.
The grand ballroom was in full swing. The soft glow of chandeliers cast a golden haze over the room, bouncing off delicate, crystal glasses and glinting across the polished floors. Guests drifted in and out of conversation, their laughter mingling with the soft strains of the orchestra.
Cinderella Choso stepped into the room, his eyes wide, taking in the scene around him. The extravagant gowns, the glint of jewelry, the laughter that echoed from the walls—it all felt so far removed from his reality. He stood just inside the doorway for a moment, trying to steady his breath. The pink dress he wore clung to him in a way that made him feel exposed and small. His heart raced in his chest, and for a moment, he wondered if he'd made a mistake even coming.
But then, you appeared.
You stood near the edge of the ballroom, casually talking to someone, but when you turned, your gaze locked onto him across the room, and everything seemed to stop. You were in a sharp, midnight-blue suit, tailored perfectly to fit your figure. It was sleek and elegant, with just the right amount of softness, your presence commanding attention without being overwhelming. Your face was soft, your hair neatly styled, and there was a quiet confidence about you that made it impossible for Cinderella Choso to look away.
You didn’t say anything at first, just let your eyes meet his, studying him, before a gentle smile curved your lips. You took a few steps towards him, weaving through the crowd like you owned the space. The sound of the music, the chatter, all faded away, leaving just the two of you in the center of it all.
“Hello,” you said, your voice smooth and warm as you gently took his hand, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it. “I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Y/N.”
His heart skipped a beat, his cheeks flushing. “I—I’m Cinderella Choso,” he stammered, not sure where to look.
You smiled, your gaze lingering on him. Cinderella Choso felt a rush of heat flood his face under the intensity of your gaze. His hands fidgeted nervously at his sides, unsure of where to look.
“You look absolutely stunning tonight,” you said, your voice smooth and genuine, sending a pleasant shiver down his spine. The compliment made his heart race in his chest, and for a moment, he couldn’t find the words to respond.
His voice was soft, almost inaudible, as he mumbled, “T-Thank you... I—I’m not used to... being noticed.” His cheeks were burning now, and he wished he could shrink into the floor.
You chuckled lightly, your smile only growing warmer. “Would you care to dance?” you asked, your voice inviting.
Cinderella Choso hesitated, his mind racing as his heart hammered in his chest. It took him a moment to realize that he was actually standing there, face to face with you, and he still hadn’t said yes. Finally, after a long pause, he nodded, his hand trembling as he reached out to take yours.
As you led him to the center of the ballroom, the music swelled into a slow waltz, and he could feel the tension in his body, the unfamiliarity of the situation, the soft pressure of your hand in his. His heart drummed against his chest as you moved fluidly in rhythm with him. Your body was warm against his, your movements confident and graceful, but you never rushed him.
The dance wasn’t perfect, but with every step, you guided him, never letting him falter. You made him feel safe in the way you held him, steady and sure, your presence somehow grounding. When you looked at him, it wasn’t with judgment or expectation, but with genuine interest, like you were seeing him for who he truly was, beyond the awkwardness he felt.
“You’re doing just fine,” you whispered softly, your voice light, teasing him just a little. “I’m impressed.”
Cinderella Choso’s chest tightened, but not in discomfort. There was something about the way you made him feel—important, seen—that took away the nervous edge in his body. His smile was shy but genuine. “I’ve never danced like this before,” he admitted softly.
“Then I’m honored to be your first,” you said, your smile deepening. It wasn’t just kind—it was sincere. “We’ll make it memorable.”
You guided him with such care, as though it was second nature for you to put others at ease. The music slowed, but your hand stayed firmly on his back, the pressure warm and comforting. When the song ended, you didn’t pull away immediately. Instead, your fingers lingered on his hand, a soft touch that sent a strange warmth through him.
“Shall we get some air?” you asked, offering your arm.
Cinderella Choso nodded, his heart still racing. You led him through the grand hall, down a corridor that seemed to be untouched by the noise of the party. The castle was vast, but you knew it like the back of your hand, guiding him through secret passageways, showing him hidden corners.
The tension between you was thick, crackling with every glance, every touch. You weren’t making it obvious, but Cinderella Choso could feel it. It was in the way your fingers brushed his every now and then, in the soft smiles that lingered a little too long. He wasn’t sure if it was the intimacy of the moment or something else, but he couldn’t look away from you.
You led him outside to a secluded garden, bathed in moonlight. The scent of flowers was intoxicating, filling the air with a sense of magic, of something otherworldly. You took his hand again, pulling him gently along a narrow path that led to a hidden entrance behind thick vines. There, behind the foliage, was a secret garden—a place no one else knew about.
A beautiful pavilion stood in the center, its walls draped with delicate flowers, the entire structure seemingly carved from nature itself. Inside the pavilion, the floor was cushioned; and soft, fluffy pillows of various sizes scattered across the cozy bed. The space felt intimate, a retreat far away from the watchful eyes of the ballroom.
“This is…” Cinderella Choso’s voice trailed off, his heart skipping a beat as he took in the scene. It was serene, quiet, and so completely different from everything else in the castle. “Beautiful.”
You smiled, removed your shoes, and sat down on one of the larger pillows, motioning for him to join you. “It’s my secret hideaway. Only a few people know about it.” You patted the cushion beside you. “I come here when I need to think, to be alone.”
Cinderella Choso hesitated, then took off his heels and sat down beside you, close enough that he could feel the warmth of your body, but not quite close enough to touch. The silence between you two felt thick, comfortable, like you were both holding your breath.
“I’m glad you showed me this,” he said softly, finally breaking the silence. His voice was quiet, almost unsure, but sincere.
“Me too,” you replied, your voice lower now, almost intimate. “I don’t usually bring anyone here.”
Cinderella Choso turned to look at you, his heart beating faster at the intensity in your gaze. The world outside seemed distant, fading into nothing as you both stayed there, in this small, secret place. You leaned a little closer, and the tension in the air seemed to wrap around you both, like a fine thread drawing you closer.
The world outside could wait. Here, in this hidden garden, nothing mattered. Only the unspoken connection, the pull between you, the undeniable chemistry that was now crackling in the air.
“You know,” you said, voice low and teasing, “If you’re not careful, I might just keep you here forever.”
Cinderella Choso’s breath hitched, and for a moment, everything stopped. He was so close to you now, the distance between you two shrinking with every word, every breath. His pulse raced, and for the first time that night, he felt like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.
The moment your lips met his, Cinderella Choso froze, his breath hitching in his throat. For a second, it seemed like he might pull away, his hands hovering uncertainly at your sides. Then, as if something gave way inside him, he grabbed your waist and kissed you back, his movements sudden and unrestrained.
At first, it was clumsy and rushed, his lips pressing hard against yours as if he wasn’t sure how to keep up with the storm of emotions. His breathing was uneven, shallow gasps breaking through the sounds of your kisses. His hands moved hesitantly but firmly, clutching at your waist and back, desperate to pull you closer.
You melted into him, your hands threading through his hair and pulling him even closer. You could feel his nervous energy in the way he moved, but it only made you smile against his lips. You tried to slow his pace, letting him match your rhythm, trying to ground his frantic energy with the soft, deliberate way your lips moved against his.
When he broke away to breathe, his face was bright red, and he couldn’t meet your eyes, his gaze darting everywhere but at you. You cupped his face gently, guiding him to look at you. “Choso,” you murmured softly, and his eyes widened, his blush deepening.
Before you could say anything more, he surged forward again, more determined this time. His kisses were rough and messy, his inexperience showing in the way his teeth grazed your lips and his hands fumbled to hold you. But you didn’t mind—it was raw, unfiltered, and so very him.
You let out a soft gasp as his lips found your neck, his movements hurried and unpracticed. Your hand slid down to his back, soothing the tension in his shoulders, your touch steadying him as he pressed closer.
Still, whenever he glanced at you, his shyness crept back, softening his frantic movements for just a second before his hands and lips found you again. You tilted his chin up, brushing your thumb over his flushed cheek, and his trembling grip on you tightened in response.
Suddenly, Choso pushed you down on the cushioned floor and climbed on top of you. His wayward tongue grew more unruly in your warm mouth, his actions sending heated shivers to your core. He mewled through his erratic kisses as his fumbling, frantic hands began pulling at your clothes and undressing you.
His movements were quick, almost frenzied, as if driven by a force he couldn’t control. Your royal attire almost tore as he threw it to the garden floor. He pulled back for just a moment, and you opened your eyes only to see the wild, frantic look in his eyes, wide and unblinking, filled with raw urgency and need, as if he couldn’t bear to wait another moment.
His eyes were locked onto the delicate curves of your frame, his gaze particularly lingering on the flushed swell of your breasts and the hardened nipples. His eyes followed his hands as they shamelessly traveled every which way on your body making you gasp out in pleasure. Choso was panting above you, his chest rising and falling as unrestrained desire flickered in his eyes, and it made you shiver with excitement.
His hands moved to his own clothes next. Choso fumbled with the fabric of his dress, his movements rushed and impatient, tugging at the delicate seams and buttons crafted by Sukuna’s magic. He huffed in frustration, tugging harder, and managed to peel off a few layers of the dress. The outer fabric loosened, revealing the smooth undershirt beneath, but the enchanted material still resisted fully giving way. Despite his best efforts, only parts of the intricate outfit now hung messily off his shoulders.
Noticing the frustration on his face, you gently called out through your heavy breaths, "He-hey, slow down. There's no need to rush."
But as if your voice had yanked the beast's attention back to you, Choso's head snapped in your direction. You don't know what happened next, or how, but Choso's mouth was back on your skin. His undershirt joined your clothes on the ground, and a manic, whimpering Choso was pressing kisses all over you. Biting and sucking on your skin, he was leaving large hickeys and bruises as his mouth travelled lower and lower until he found your leaking pussy.
Choso whined loudly, and the vibrations sent jolts of electricity to the steadily building coil in your core. Your entire body shuddered as though someone had pulled your soul out when he started sucking your folds with full force. It felt as if he was making out with your pussy in the same rough and messy way he was kissing you moments ago, his ceaseless actions stimulating your clit as well.
It felt like your mind was unraveling, every coherent thought dissolving into the overwhelming sensation that consumed you. Your flickering gaze drooped down to Choso. His ears and neck were flushed red, eyes tightly screwed shut, with moans and deep groans escaping his lips as if he was the one receiving pleasure, and maybe he was.
It was getting too much, the overwhelming feeling was unbearable. You forced words out of your half-open mouth, trying your best to sound lucid, "Ch-cho... Choso s-stop. Slow down b-baby, 's too much..."
Your voice comes out shaky and breathless. But it's as if your words are swallowed by the air between you, his movements remain relentless, driven by an intensity that seems to blind him to everything else. Your protests falter, mingling with your uneven breaths, as his focus stays singular, unwavering, like he’s caught in a trance that nothing can break.
His tongue thrusts into your quivering hole, as his nose keeps on nudging the sensitive nerves of your clit. He was so shy at first. You didn't think he had much experience in these affairs when you brought him to the hidden garden, but his performance was making you second guess. Still, he seemed inexperienced with how uncoordinated, aimless and chaotic his movements were. But the sheer force in his actions made stars flicker behind your eyes.
The pleasure surged through you, sharp and unrelenting, until it overtook every part of you. Your body tensed, trembling uncontrollably, as your thoughts fragment into nothingness. It’s too much—blinding, deafening, overwhelming—until your mind can no longer keep up. Your senses give way, and the world around you vanishes, leaving you in a black void of sensation.
Your chest heaves as you try to catch your breath, the warmth still buzzing under your skin. A fleeting moment of clarity starts to settle. Fuck, that was just from going down on you?—
But your thoughts are cut off as the sound of clothes rustling suddenly joins the deep, uneven breaths filling the garden.
You open your eyes to see Choso hastily yanking down his slacks and panties in one swift motion, the fabric bunching around his knees. Your eyes fixate on something else, unable to look away. It's beautiful, unlike anything you've seen before.
His cock that sprang out was a pretty cherry pink colour, with veins that trace along his shaft like rivers. Silky smooth skin covered the slight upward curve of his length. The head was a flushed, angry red, as though the heat had spread from within, coloring it with a deep, vivid hue. It pulsed with intensity, a clear sign of the tension building beneath the surface, with his precum dripping from the slit. And the size—wait. No, this can't be right. It's too much. He's massive.
Your eyes widen in realization, a wave of panic suddenly washing over you. Your hands grip the sheets as a small shred of fear claws at your chest, pulling you back to reality. No, no, no—this won't work. It won’t fit. You scramble away from Choso, twisting your body as you quickly turn on your knees to distance yourself. But you feel his hand grip your ankle and yank your body straight back to him.
Your back is pressed against his chest as you feel Choso's entire body weight press down on you, pinning you in place and leaving you unable to move. Then you feel two things sink into you, Choso's teeth in your shoulder and his massive cock in your pussy. Tears prickle at the corner of your eyes as his size overwhelms you, stretching you far beyond what you're accustomed to. It's almost too much, your body tensing as it struggles to accomodate the intensity of him. Each movement only deepens the sensation, both pain and pleasure pushing you to the edge of what you can handle.
A deep guttural groan echoes from Choso's throat straight into your ear. He completely stills for a moment as if he too seems to need some time to adjust to the feeling of being inside you. Then he's rambling, babbling in his pussydrunk state.
Choso's voice was shaky, breath coming in quick gasps as he muttered, "This—this feels so good... so tight... can't... can't get enough of you." His hands gripped the sheets, knuckles white, his words slipping out in a desperate breathless rush. "You feel... incredible. I don't know how much longer I can... this is—this is everything... "
Choso starts plunging into you, his hips snapping against yours, each movement fast, hard and deep. The familiar tightness slowly takes hold in your core. With every thrust the pain melted away and only mind numbing pleasure remained.
Your words tumble out in a frantic, incoherent rush, your body trembling as you clung to the sheets. "I... can't... so good, Choso, feels too good... please, don't stop... don't stop, please..." Your voice was shaky, breathy, barely above a whisper, as if the sensation was overwhelming your every thought.
You're practically mewling as each wave of pleasure blurs the edges of reality, leaving you teetering on the brink of madness. Your body trembles uncontrollably, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as if you were drowning in ecstasy. The intensity was almost too much, a raw, primal force that left you clutching desperately at the remnants of your sanity.
Your body moves against him on it's own, joining in on his rhythm. Choso moans in your ears, and the voice sends more uncontrollable shivers to your core. You force your eyes open as much as you could through the haze of your blinding pleasure and turn your head to the side to look at him. Choso was completely feral, his expression raw and intense. You swore you could see hearts in his eyes, his gaze burning with something wild. His cheeks were flushed a deep red, and he was moaning and whimpering, while mercilessly thrusting in and out of you. He was completely out of control.
His sheer size was making you feel everything as his cock slid against you, reaching every corner and hitting your sweet spot again and again. Your pleasure builds hard and fast, and snaps before you could comprehend it. Your mouth hangs slightly open, drool escaping and pooling on the sheets below your cheek as your head spins with overwhelming pleasure. Your thoughts are scattered, each sensation mixing together, leaving your brain in a muddled haze, unable to focus on anything but the dizzying rush of pleasure flooding your senses.
You orgasm sets off Choso's own as your pussy tightens around him, trembling and quivering, and he cums inside you with a loud moan while giving slow, messy thrusts. The warm liquid pools inside, filling you, and spills out around the base of his cock and on the sheets. Tears stain Choso's cheeks as he starts crying, sniffles and sobs mixing with his moans, and you feel the warm drops on your shoulder.
Both yours and Choso's breaths come in ragged, uneven bursts. Your haze is slowly about to lift, and the trembling in your limbs was just about to subside, but Choso flips you over to face him and starts moving again. He's still hard inside you despite his powerful orgasm and how much he came. His movements pick up their speed, and he whines while sliding in and out of you.
Overstimulation grips your body, and you squirm and thrash underneath him. Choso grips your hips to force your body still as he moves faster and deeper inside you. "Choso... i-it's... too much," you gasp.
He leans down and pecks your lips, and breathes into your mouth, "I know... me too..." before capturing your lips in a deep, bruising kiss. His desperate actions over you don't stop, whining through his own overstimulation, as he pulls multiple orgasms out of you till you lose count and your highs start bleeding into each other.
Every time your vision goes black because of pleasure, and you drift in and out of consciousness in exhaustion, Choso fills you up with his sticky seed till you overflow and he's shooting blanks, while pressing kisses all over your body. This goes on for what feels like an eternity, and your body felt completely drained, every muscle heavy and limp, yet there was a comforting warmth that enveloped you, a deep sense of contentment, your mind floating in a blissful haze.
Choso, now calmer and free from his earlier fluster, was covering you with gentle kisses, murmuring soft "I love you"s as you lay there, blissfully tired and unable to move. His touch was tender, each kiss filled with quiet affection, as if he was trying to memorize every moment.
Suddenly, the deep toll of the palace bell echoed through the night. Choso froze, his eyes widening in alarm as he remembered fairy godmother Sukuna's warning—3 a.m. was the deadline, and the magic would soon start unraveling.
Panic flickered across his face as he sat up abruptly. “I have to go,” he whispered, his voice thick with urgency and regret.
You reached out weakly, your fingers brushing his arm. “Wait... wait till morning,” you mumbled, your voice slurred with exhaustion. There was more you wanted to say—something about a curse, about needing him to stay—but the words came out as incoherent murmurs, fragments of a plea lost in the haze of your tiredness.
Choso hesitated, his expression torn, but the chime of the bell spurred him into action. He scrambled off the pavilion, hastily pulling on his dress. He paused for a moment, looking back at you with a mix of longing and sorrow.
“I love you,” he said one last time, his voice soft but firm, before slipping out of the garden and into the night.
The next morning arose with a bright yellow glow from the east. You stir in the sheets of the pavilion, before slowly opening your eyes to the beautifully painted glass ceiling. The birds were chirping in the hidden garden, and the scent of the numerous flowers swirled in the air.
The memories of the night before came rushing to your mind, every fragment crystal clear except one: his face. You had tried your best, through your exhaustion, to get Cinderella Choso to stay with you till you could see him again in the morning, but he left anyway.
You tried to tell him—to get but a word in—that you were cursed. A long time ago, a lady of magic, offended by the king, had cursed her only heir: you. According to the curse, every morning, you forgot each and every face you saw the day before, including your own.
It was a well-guarded royal secret that only a few were privy to. And you wanted the man who stole your heart (along with the strength in your legs) to know it too. He was gone now, and it would be difficult to find him with just a name without the face. But there's something else you remember, something that even a curse couldn't erase from your mind: his beautiful, glistening pink dick.
Scrambling out of the sheets and into your clothes, before smoothing your hair down the best you could to make yourself somewhat presentable, you stepped out of the garden and went to the palace in search of your aide.
The air in the aide’s office was heavy with the scent of parchment and ink, the flicker of candlelight illuminating his focused face as he worked through a stack of documents. He barely looked up as you entered, his pen scratching against the paper.
“Where did you disappear off to last night?” he asked, his tone curious but not pressing.
You waved a dismissive hand, brushing off the question. “It’s not important,” you replied, stepping closer. “I need you to summon the royal painter immediately.”
The aide blinked, finally setting down his pen to look at you fully. “The royal painter? What for?”
“Just do it,” you said, your tone brooking no argument. His brow furrowed, but he nodded, reaching for the small bell on his desk to summon a servant to deliver the orders.
Moments later, the royal painter, an older man with streaks of grey in his beard, shuffled into the room, looking a little confused.
The painter gave a short bow, his expression perplexed. “Your Highness, what service do you require?”
You stepped forward, clasping your hands together in determination. “I need you to paint something from my memory,” you said, your voice steady. “A man’s dick.”
The painter sputtered and blinked rapidly, visibly startled by the peculiar request. “A p-penis, Your Highness?”
“Yes,” you confirmed, your tone leaving no room for doubt. “It’s vital.”
Though clearly appalled and confused, the painter nodded, pulling out his tools and setting to work as you described every detail of Cinderella Choso’s cock. You spoke with precision, recalling the faint lines on his shaft, the slight upward curve of his length, the veins running along the length, the pinkish red flushed head that was a darker shade than the rest of this cock, and the soft sheen of his skin. The painter’s expression grew more incredulous with each stroke, but he remained silent, committed to the task.
When he finished, you scrutinized the painting, your heart leaping at how perfectly he had captured it. “Good,” you said with a nod. “Now make several copies of it. As many as you can manage within the next hour.”
The painter hesitated, glancing at the aide as if hoping for an explanation. When none came, he sighed and got to work, summoning his apprentices to assist.
As you waited, a royal guard entered the room, bowing deeply. “Your Highness, the King has summoned you to the throne room.”
You inhaled sharply, straightening your posture. “Very well,” you said, smoothing your attire once more. “I’ll return shortly,” you told the aide before following the guard out.
The throne room was as grand as ever, the King seated at its center. Her piercing gaze bore into you as you entered, the tension in the air palpable. “You’re late,” she said, her voice sharp.
“My apologies, Your Majesty,” you said, offering a polite bow.
The King leaned forward, her expression severe. “I summoned you to discuss a matter of great importance. The princess I told you of last night, of the neighboring kingdom, the one you danced with at the start—he would make a fine royal spouse. The union would strengthen our ties and secure our future.”
You hesitated, the memory of Cinderella Choso flashing through your mind. “I met someone last night,” you said, your voice unwavering. “I fell in love with him, and I’ve decided I’m going to marry him.”
The King’s expression darkened, frustration evident. “You would throw away a carefully arranged alliance for some man you met at a ball? Do you even know who he is?”
“I do not,” you admitted, “but I will find him.”
The King’s hand clenched the arm of her throne, her face reddening. “You’re being reckless,” she snapped. “This marriage is crucial to the kingdom’s future!”
“Then perhaps you should have been clearer about that before inviting every eligible suitor to the ball,” you retorted calmly.
"Besides, with the amount of cum inside me right now, I doubt any kingdom would want to marry off their princess to me when my belly swells in a few months." You add with a faint smirk on your calm face.
"You!" The king's anger reached its peak, and before you could say another word, she clutched her chest, her face twisting in pain. “Your Majesty!” a servant cried, rushing to her side as she collapsed into the throne.
You didn’t linger. Turning on your heel, you left the chaos behind, your resolve unshaken.
By the time you reached the training grounds, the knights were gathered in neat rows, their polished armor clinking softly as they practiced their drills. You held up the paintings in your hands, ensuring they all saw the image clearly.
“This is the man I’m looking for,” you announced, your voice carrying across the courtyard. “Compare this painting to the dick of every man in the kingdom. Find him, no matter how long it takes.”
The knights saluted in unison, determination in their eyes as they accepted their copies.
Turning to the aide, who had followed you silently, you gave your next order. “Make an announcement,” you said. “Tell the kingdom I met a man at the ball last night, and he’s stolen my heart. We’ll find him with these paintings. Any man whose dick matches the image will be married to me.”
The aide hesitated, his brow furrowing in concern. “Your Highness, are you certain—” Although he was used to your antics by now, this one was far too ridiculous to not question.
“Do it,” you interrupted, your tone leaving no room for doubt.
As the knights dispersed and the aide hurried off to carry out your orders, you felt a strange mix of determination and trepidation. Somewhere out there, Cinderella Choso was waiting—and you wouldn’t rest until he was by your side once more.
The days turned into weeks, the search spanning every corner of the kingdom. The knights traveled tirelessly, comparing the painting of the glistening cock to every eligible man they encountered, but no match had been found. Each negative report brought a growing sense of worry, a restlessness that kept you pacing through the corridors of the palace late into the night. The weight of your promise pressed heavily on your shoulders. What if you had lost him forever?
Finally, the aide presented the list of remaining houses. “This is the last one,” he said, handing you the parchment with a weary expression.
Your eyes scanned the address. A modest home tucked into the farthest corner of the kingdom. The final hope.
“I’m going with them,” you declared. The aide opened his mouth to protest, but your determined gaze silenced him. The next morning, you rode out with the knights, the journey long and arduous as the distant town came into view.
Meanwhile, in that very house, Stepmother Kenjaku paced the floor, his long robes rustling with every turn. The news of the prince's search had reached even the farthest corners, and Kenjaku was determined to seize the opportunity. He had spent weeks preparing his two daughters, Eso and Kechizu, for the inevitable visit.
“You must be perfect,” he told them sternly, inspecting their dicks. Eso winced as Kenjaku pressed a scale to his cock, the length was far from satisfactory. Kechizu groaned in frustration as another mixture of oils and creams was slathered onto his dick in a desperate attempt to make it more appealing.
“Remember,” Kenjaku said with a wicked grin, “if one of you marries the prince, we’ll live in the palace, and our troubles will be over.”
“Yes, Mother,” they chimed in unison, their faces contorting into forced smiles.
When the knock finally came, Kenjaku hurried to the door, his heart racing. He opened it with a deep bow, his oily charm seeping through every word. “Your Highness, what an honor! Please, come in!”
You stepped inside, your knights following as Kenjaku led you to a modest sitting area in the hall. You settled into the soft couch, your posture regal despite the humble surroundings.
“These are my daughters, Eso and Kechizu,” Kenjaku announced with exaggerated pride as the two boys stepped forward, their hands clasped demurely before them.
You glanced at their faces and had to fight the urge to recoil. The sharp angles of their features and their overly powdered skin were anything but appealing. Their forced grins only made them look more unsettling.
“They’re definitely not the man I’m looking for,” you said flatly, not even bothering to compare the painting. “There’s no need.”
Kenjaku’s smile faltered, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Are you sure, Your Highness? They’ve been preparing—”
Your sharp gaze cut him off. “According to the records, there are three daughters in this household.”
Kenjaku’s expression tightened, but he quickly masked his displeasure with a nervous laugh. “Ah, the third,” he said dismissively, waving a hand. “He's not truly my daughter, Your Highness. A stepchild of my late husband from her first marriage, nothing more than a servant. Hardly worthy of your attention.”
“Call him anyway,” you ordered, your tone leaving no room for argument.
Kenjaku hesitated for a moment before turning to a nearby servant and barking out the order. Moments later, the sound of footsteps descending a creaking staircase filled the air.
When Cinderella Choso appeared, your breath caught in your throat. His disheveled hair framed his face, strands sticking out wildly, and a smudge of ash darkened his cheek. He wore a simple maid’s outfit, the hem fraying slightly at the edges, but none of that mattered.
The moment you saw him, the memory of that night came flooding back in its entirety. His face—his beautiful, soft features, the gentle curve of his lips, and the warmth in his eyes—had been restored in your mind as if the curse had never taken hold. He was the man you’d fallen for, the man whose cock you had spent weeks searching for.
Cinderella Choso looked up slowly, his expression a mixture of caution and something softer—a quiet joy that flickered to life the moment his eyes met yours. A faint blush rose to his cheeks, his lips parting slightly in surprise as he instinctively ducked his head, his hand brushing nervously against the hem of his apron.
“Why... why is the prince here?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper. Though confusion lingered in his tone, there was an unmistakable warmth in his gaze, as if he couldn’t quite believe you were standing before him.
You maintained your composure, though your chest tightened at the sight of him. Giving no sign that you recognized him, you said firmly, “I will personally check him,” standing from the couch with an air of authority.
Kenjaku’s eyes widened in alarm, but he quickly plastered a thin smile on his face. “As you wish, Your Highness.”
Cinderella Choso’s blush deepened, his dark eyes darting between you and the knights before returning to you, lingering just a moment longer than before. His fingers twitched nervously, and he bit his lip, a flicker of shy delight breaking through his confusion.
You stepped closer, your gaze steady and unwavering as it met his. “Where is your room?” you asked, your voice calm but commanding.
“The... attic,” he replied hesitantly, his words faltering under the weight of the moment. His hand rose as if to gesture toward the stairs, but he paused, seeming momentarily flustered by your nearness.
“Lead the way,” you instructed, your tone firm but not unkind.
Cinderella Choso nodded, his movements tentative but obedient. His face was still tinged with a soft pink hue as he turned toward the staircase. There was something in the way he carried himself—a nervous energy paired with a quiet joy, as though he were both overwhelmed and thrilled to have you in his home.
You followed him, your heart pounding in your chest with every step as the narrow staircase creaked beneath your feet.
As you ascended the creaking staircase, the air between you grew heavier, laden with unspoken emotions and tension. The narrow space seemed to close in, your footsteps echoing softly behind him.
Cinderella Choso’s shoulders were tense, his fingers gripping the hem of his apron as if it were his lifeline. His head was slightly bowed, and his messy hair shifted with every step he took. You watched him closely, the faint blush still dusting his cheeks, the nervous sway in his movements unmistakable.
Breaking the silence, you spoke, your voice low but clear. “I hope you remember me.”
Cinderella Choso froze mid-step, his foot slipping slightly on the next stair. He let out a startled squeak, his hands flailing briefly before he caught himself against the bannister. “Y-yes!” he stammered, the word escaping his lips in a hurried rush. His voice cracked slightly, and his entire body seemed to jolt with embarrassment.
But he didn’t look back.
His ears were burning red now, the flush creeping down his neck as he straightened up and hurried the rest of the way. His steps were uneven, almost frantic, as though the very act of facing you might undo him completely.
You bit back a smile, watching him fumble, his shyness endearing in a way that only made your heart ache more for him.
The attic was dimly lit, with only a small window letting in a pale stream of light that softened the space. Despite its modest size, the room was neat and organized, every corner reflecting a quiet diligence. A small dressing table stood to the side, its surface polished clean, with a few simple trinkets placed meticulously. A wardrobe leaned against the wall, slightly worn but sturdy, and a collection of books was stacked neatly in one corner.
The bed, just barely large enough to accommodate Cinderella Choso's broad frame, was tucked under the window, a faded but clean rug beside it. The air was still, carrying the faint scent of the ash smudged on his cheek and the warmth of the space he'd made his own.
As soon as the door clicked shut behind you, it was as if the world fell away. All pretense dissolved in an instant. You stepped toward him, and he barely had time to process before your lips were on his, the kiss urgent and consuming.
Cinderella Choso froze for the briefest moment, his body stiffening. But then his hands found your waist, and he melted into you, a soft whimper escaping him. His touch held the same urgency as the night of the ball, trembling slightly, but the sheer need in him breaking through his shyness.
Your hands roamed his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heart beneath your fingertips. His lips were warm, slightly chapped, but they moved against yours with increasing desperation. Your arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer, as though you feared he might disappear again.
Together, you tumbled onto the bed, his weight sinking into the mattress as he fell back. The window's light framed his flushed face, his hair falling messily around him as his wide eyes met yours. His breaths were shallow, his chest rising and falling quickly, but his hands never left you, roaming across your back, your hips, your thighs, like he couldn’t bear to let go.
Breaking from the kiss, you hovered above him, your breath mingling with his as you stared into his wide, vulnerable eyes. “Why did you leave that night?” you asked, your voice trembling, not with anger, but with a deep, aching hurt. “I told you to stay.”
Cinderella Choso looked away, his cheeks flushed as if the memory stung him even now. His hands rested on your waist, his grip firm but gentle, grounding him. “I... I didn’t want to,” he admitted softly, his voice raw with regret. “But I didn’t have a choice. It was magic.”
Your brows furrowed, confusion flickering across your face. He hesitated for a moment, then continued, his words tumbling out nervously, as though he feared you wouldn’t believe him. “The fairy godmother gave me everything for one night—just until 3 a.m. After that, everything... everything would go back to the way it was. My clothes, my life, all of it. I had to leave before it all unraveled.”
His gaze flicked back to you, searching for your reaction, his face tinged with shame. “I didn’t want you to see me like that,” he whispered. “I wasn’t supposed to be there in the first place.”
You studied him for a long moment, your hand cupping his cheek, thumb brushing over the faint smudge of ash still there. “Believe me, I know,” you said, your voice laced with understanding, a sad smile tugging at your lips.
His brows knit in confusion, but you shook your head gently, your fingers tracing the soft line of his jaw. “That’s a story for later,” you said softly, leaning in to press another kiss to his lips. Whatever questions he had about your words or your curse could wait. Right now, you were here, together, and that was all that mattered.
Just like that your roaming hands were back on each other again. Cinderella Choso kissed you with more fervour than before. His lips frantically moved against yours. His tongue slipped inside, the soft muscle gliding and tangling with your tongue.
Your breathing grew shallower, and your heart thundered in your chest as Choso's soft, desperate whimpers filled the air. His hands fumbled at the buttons of your coat, trembling as he worked to undo them, his touch clumsy with need.
But you caught his wrists, stopping him in his tracks. “Uh-uh,” you said, your voice firm, though a teasing smile tugged at your lips. “I’m not letting what happened that night occur again. You went wild, Cho—You'll let me call you that, won't you? I’d like to leave this house walking on my own two legs if I can help it.”
His eyes widened, his face flushing a deep crimson as he sputtered, “I-I didn’t mean—”
You silenced him with a quick peck on his lips before reaching for a piece of cloth from his wardrobe. His confusion deepened as you looped the fabric around his wrists, tying them securely to the headboard.
“Wha—what are you doing?” he stammered, his voice trembling with equal parts apprehension and excitement.
You smirked, leaning close so your breath ghosted over his ear. “Maintaining some control over the situation this time,” you said, your tone playful yet commanding. “I think we both know you lose all sense of restraint when you’re left to your own devices.”
Cinderella Choso whimpered, his hands tugging weakly at the bindings as you straddled him. His eyes darted down to his maid outfit, and he seemed suddenly hyper-aware of the fabric against his skin.
Taking a moment, you leaned back slightly, your gaze trailing over him appreciatively. “You know,” you said, tilting your head as your lips curved into a grin, “You look really cute like this.”
His blush deepened, and he turned his head away shyly. “D-Don’t tease me...”
“Oh, I’m not teasing,” you replied, your fingers tracing the ruffled hem of his skirt. “We could do this from time to time—have you wear something like this again.”
Cinderella Choso’s wide eyes snapped back to yours, his lips parting in a silent gasp. His embarrassed whimper made you chuckle softly, leaning down to kiss him again, savoring the way he melted beneath you, utterly at your mercy.
You pulled at the knot of his apron, undoing the fabric. Your hand slid to the back of his neck, slowly unzipping the dress, and he shivered at the touch. You give him a sweet, soft smile but the look in your eyes betrayed what you were about to do next. His eyes grew wide with panic and anticipation, his lips parting slightly as he took in small breaths.
You quickly slip his dress off next and settle between his legs. His pretty white panties had a not so innocent wet spot that only grew larger in size the longer you looked at it. Choso lets out a small whine and your devilish gaze met his excited, wide-eyed stare.
"Wha—what are you going to do?" He stammered, and his eyes dart between your lips and the bulge in his panties that was peeking through the translucent fabric.
You grin even wider and chirp, "Exactly what you're thinking right now."
Choso gasps when you pull down his panties, and his hardened cock springs out. It looks exactly like you remembered it—big and smooth with a gorgeous pink tint that's redder at the head. The paintings didn't do justice, the real thing was much better.
You bring your hand up to touch his tip and he shivers. Choso was trying his best to stay still, anticipating what's to come. But when you softly kiss the tip of his cock, his entire body shudders. A loud, high-pitched moan escapes his lips when you sink down your mouth on his length as much as you could.
You use all your strength to tightly grip his thighs with both of your hands, forcing him to stay still while you bring your head up and then glide it back down, taking him deeper this time.
The head of his cock touches the back of your throat and you slightly gag. Your eyes glisten with tears, but you don't stop. You start bobbing your head up and down on his length, which elicits a series of strangled moans and gasps from choso.
Your lips slide up his length, a mix of your spit and his precum covering the shaft. You suck at his head, then hollow your cheeks and go back down. Your actions pick up their pace, head rapidly bobbing, adding to his building pleasure.
With a loud cry, choso cums. The warm liquid that filled your mouth was salty with a slight sweet taste. Your hand replaces your mouth, moving up and down, helping him ride out his high.
You look up at him. His eyes are tightly shut, mouth parted as his chest heaves with the deep breaths. As he calms down, his half-open lidded eyes meet yours. You sweetly smile at him and tease, "Did you like that?"
Choso turned his head to the side and tried to hide his face in his bound arms, flushing this time with embarrassment.
"Yes," he muttered in a small, shy voice.
He then asks, "Are you going to untie me now?"
You shake your head, a playful smile on your lips. "Nope. We're not done yet."
You sit up and start unbuttoning your clothes. Choso's eyes follow your every action as you slip out of your coat, your shirt, and then your pants. You're sitting above him, straddling him, with nothing but your underwear on. Choso's eyes seem too bulge out of his head, and his ears burn redder at your half-naked form, as if he hadn't already seen it before.
You take off your bra next and your breasts spill out. Choso's gaze is fixed on the sight, then trails down to your panties and the noticable wet patch on it. You pull them down, there's a lewd string of your slick connecting to the fabric. Choso gulps at the sight, his Adam's apple bobs on his throat.
"Would you like a taste, my sweet Cho?" You tilt your head and drawl while looking at him. He nods frantically at your words, whining desperately.
"You're so big baby, and as much as I love it, you'll have to loosen me up a little before I take you inside, yeah?" Choso blushes at your words and whimpers, "Ye-yes, please."
You rise and move up to his shoulders, placing your legs on each side and settle your pussy down on his face, careful not to smother him.
Choso moans softly as he eagerly starts licking at the slick dripping down on his tongue. His knuckles turn white the moment his bound hands grip the headboard tightly. His eyes are closed, face flushed like a plum, and his soft whines and groans fill the air, mixing with your moans of pleasure. He looks so obscenely gorgeous between your legs.
Choso's tongue laps at your folds. You reach down and push your fingers in your pussy, and start pumping them in and out in an attempt to stretch yourself out. Choso sucks and lightly bites at your clit and it sends jolts of electricity down your spine. Your back arches as you push yourself deeper to his mouth, the coil in your core ready to snap. You're close, so close.
Choso lets out a low groan, sending vibrations to your sensitive flesh. He's hard again, precum dripping from the slit. He bucks his hips up when he gives a harsh suck to your clit that sends you spiralling, waves after waves of pleasure washing over you as you hit your high. You get off him and collapse to the side, both of you panting side by side.
You don't waste another moment; getting up and aligning your warm, sensitive pussy with his dripping cock and sink down on him, overstimulation be damned. A loud whiny moan echoes in the room, coming from you or him you don't know.
Once you started bouncing on him, Choso felt as though every inch of his skin was alive, buzzing with a heat so powerful it left him dizzy. His mind felt hazy, thoughts muddled, unable to cling to any single thread of rationality. The pleasure overwhelmed him entirely, a thick fog of sensation clouding every rational thought, as if his brain were melting beneath the weight of it, leaving only pure, unfiltered bliss.
Your warm, tight, wet cunt gripping him like a vice felt like it was milking him dry. You lean back, your palms resting on his thighs behind you as you use all your strength to ride him. Your breasts bounce with every movement, and the view is so lewd for our poor baby Choso that he feels like he's gonna cum right then and there.
You through your head back, mouth open as you drool and pant above him. All that sword training paid off, because you couldn't possibly have lasted without all the built up stamina. Choso's loud moans and groans, mixed with your own, ring in your ears, adding to your lust and fueling you to go faster and harder.
Choso throws his head back into the pillow, hands holding the headboard in an iron-grip, as his biceps flex and abs tightens, and he cums hard. His ropey liquid filling you up, and you follow right after, still riding him through both your orgasms.
You pant hard, body slacking to the side, and you look at him while you try to catch your breath. Choso is a mess, tears and drool is dripping from the sides of his face. His jaw is slack, and his face, neck and chest is flushed red. Little sobs escape his lips along with the gasps.
You quickly move to untie the cloth around his hands and collapse on top of him. You hold him close as you pepper his face with kisses. "You okay, baby?" You ask in a soft voice. But just then, before you could react, Choso flips you over. He's looking down at you with the same crazed look in his eyes that he had the night of the ball. Fuck! You made a mistake untying him.
Choso pins both your wrists above your head with one hand, and grips one of your legs up with the other, before thrusting himself back into you. "Cho-choso!?" You call out, startled. His eyes are blown wide with a wild look in them, no coherent thought behind the gaze.
"M-more... more pl-please. Not enough... This is not enough... need more..." He babbles. So you weren't walking out of this house on your own after all. The pleasure he gave you that night was soul-crushingly good, and you loved every moment of it. As much as you want it again right now, there's an entire knight squad waiting for you downstairs, dammit.
He holds you down while ramming his cock deep inside with full strength. His thrusts get meaner with each stroke, pumping pleasure out of you. He leans down, shoving his tongue in your slack mouth, swallowing all your moans. Oh fuck it! The knights can wait.
Each pulse of pleasure that rolled through you felt like a wave of heat, washing away any coherent thought. Your body trembled, each nerve alive, and your mind seemed to blur, its sharp edges softening into nothingness. Every sensation was amplified, the euphoria so intense that it felt like your very mind was being devoured by the pleasure, each wave more intoxicating than the last.
Choso didn’t stop, not until both of you were exhausted and sticky with sweat and cum that came from all the countless orgasms, the intensity of the moment lingering in the air between you. His movements were relentless, driven by an overwhelming need, and each time you thought he might slow down, he only pushed forward.
It was like that night all over again. You drifted in and out of the haze clouding you with each mind numbing high. The sun was setting when you both finally stopped, the golden light spilling through the window and casting a warm glow over everything. The room, once filled with the erratic energy, now felt quiet, the fading daylight creating a peaceful contrast to the intensity that had come before.
Choso was sleeping peacefully on top of you, his soft breaths rising and falling gently against your chest. His weight, comforting and familiar, made your heart swell with adoration. You watched him, his face serene in sleep, so different from his earlier untamed frenzy, and a wave of tenderness washed over you as you held him closer, not wanting to move, wanting to cherish the moment forever.
In the following days, the kingdom buzzed with excitement, preparations for the royal marriage taking center stage. The streets were filled with banners and flowers, and the air was thick with anticipation. Cinderella Choso, now at your side, was treated with the same reverence as any princess, though his gentle nature remained unchanged. You spent your days together, savoring the quiet moments, laughing, and talking about the future; and with his cock buried deep inside you when no one was around.
The royal wedding was a grand affair, a celebration of not just your union, but the love that had brought you both together. As the days passed, you realized that the magic and curse had only led you to something far greater than you could have imagined.
And so, with Choso by your side, you lived happily ever after, finding a peace that had once seemed impossible.
---
Check out the m.list. Which one should I write next?
Do not copy, plagiarise, translate or repost any of my content.
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𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
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s0dium · 5 months ago
Text
Sex Pollen
Geto x F!Reader
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A/n: This was pulled out from the depths of my fantasies
Word count: 2.2k
Synopsis: Oh no! You and Geto get hit by an aphrodisiac curse technique on a mission!! What should you do now?
Warning: Breeding, masturbation, begging, mating press, rough sex, desperate sex, marathon sex, doggy, squirting
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You think there's something wrong with you. Something feels off, you feel off, rather, you feel hot.
You bolt upright in your bed, flinging the sheets away as if a second more underneath them would burn you. No, something was definitely off. Your mind buzzed, and it couldn't be from the adrenaline of the mission, that was hours ago, it was midnight now.
Your eyes adjusted to the darkness of your room and you bit inside of your cheek. It wasn't just physical exhaustion that draped over your limbs—it was something else, something deeper and more consuming. The air around you felt thicker, every breath you took seemed laced with a heavy, intoxicating warmth. You press a hand to your forehead, trying to quell the rising temperature of your skin, but it provides little relief.
A creeping heat suffuses your body and an unmistakable pulse emanates from your core.
Where you.... Turned on?
A sickly-warm-funny feeling bubbles in your stomach and you're becoming aware of how your skin is starting to stick to your tank top and that the cloth between your legs feels....wet?
Hesitantly, you snake a hand under your waistband and underwear, releasing a small gasp when your skin makes contact with your arousal. You're soaked.
Why is this happening, why now? Your mind races through the events of the previous day. It was mainly just you and Geto on a mission, one like any other—find the curse, exorcise, clean up the mess. Could it be the technique you were hit with?
Could Geto be feeling this too?
Your heart jumps at the thought but you try to shake it off. You know you should get up, wake up Shoko, wake up Geto even, but you can't seem to will your legs to move. Your mind was is just too occupied with something else, the promise of something sweeter, something that is making the funny feeling in your stomach spread.
Without much of a thought, you press an index finger on your throbbing clit, garnering a sharp sigh from you. Just from that simple touch pleasure ripples through your body, making your toes curl. You do the movement again except this time you start drawing light circles on the sensitive nub. You can feel yourself squeeze around nothing from your own ministrations, bliss clouding your hazy mind.
It wasn't enough though. You needed more.
You dart your tongue across your lips and try to focus on the pleasure, on getting some relief. You try to dip one of your fingers inside your hole while continuing the ministrations on your clit with your other hand, but it proves too difficult, your fingers are too small.
Tears blotted your eyes from frustration, letting out a soft whine from the relentless heat that continued to rack your body. Oh how you wish you had someone else to help you, oh how you wish Geto was here.
Your core throbs at the thought. Yes, that was it, he is what you need. You resume your ministrations this time focusing on the euphoric thought of Geto suguru. He would be so good to you wouldn't he be? Oh you bet he'd fill you up so well too, fuck you just right, get rid of this painful arousal, and fill your mind with only pleasure. He would probably talk you through it too, let you pull and tug on his long black hair oh you can practically feel his hands on you right now, so big and warm.
You don't even realize that you are loudly moaning Geto's name at this point, too busy trying to grapple with the searing heat coursing through your veins. You feel like your body is surrounded by an invisible flame, fuck it feels like you are going to die. The room around you blurs into insignificance, as your thoughts fixate solely on your Geto Suguru, his absence a gaping void that echoes through your heightened senses. You feel a desperate craving, a pull so strong it borders on physical pain, rendering you breathless and sobbing for his touch, his presence.
"Suguru, please...." you gasp between sobs, your voice breaking with each word. The tears stream down your cheeks, blurring your vision as you clutch your sheets.
As if on cue, the door swings open and you think that there must be a god out there listening to you because there Suguru stands, backlit by the hallway light, his broad silhouette framed in the doorway.
Before you can even get a word in he is already next to you sitting on your bed and cupping your face with his large warm hands.
Deep violet eyes examine your face as his thumb brushes away the tears on your cheek.
"I-" You choke, a wave of emotions crashing down on your mind stifling the words that desperately wanted to escape your mouth.
"Shhhh, I know baby I know," he coos kissing your forehead and tracing your jaw with his thumb. "I feel it to, but I'm gonna take care of it ok? Don't worry about a thing m'gonna take such good care of you I promise."
He gently tilts your chin up, meeting your doe-eyed gaze with eyes that seems to devour you. Slowly, he lowers his lips to yours, encapsulating your trembling mouth in a deep, comforting kiss that steadys the chaotic beat of your heart. You sigh into the kiss and let his entangle with yours.
As the kiss deepens, he shifts slightly, his lips traveling from yours down to your neck. A soft gasp escapes you as he plants soft kisses along your skin, occasionally nipping and sucking at the delicate skin. You are so lost in the feeling of his lips that you don't even notice his hand on your inner thigh until his finger grazes your lips.
You jump at the sensation but Suguru places a light reassuring kiss on your lips
"jesus, please just, fuck, gotta get you ready just a little bit"
You shake your head quickly and place your hand on Suguru's crotch, the caress of his growing bulge making him groan.
"Please sugu, please just fuck me I can take it."
You don't have to tell him twice.
In one fluid motion Suguru tears off your underwear, lays you on your back and positions himself between your legs.
"Been waiting to do this for say long," he mummurs as he pulls down his sweatpants and whips out his dick. You thickly gulp at the sight, you could've guessed he was big not this big, could he even fit in you? A white beed of precum dribbled from his pretty pink tip and down his length and he uses the liquid to stroke himself in a few fluid motions.
You could hear your heart in your ears and adrenaline coursed through your veins at rocket fire speed. The need in between your legs was too much, it was clouding your head and twisting your stomach so tight you almost felt sick. You jolt when his fat tip bumps into your clit; collecting your juices before pressing against your quivering hole.
"Suguru please~" You whine and nearly miss the way his ears go bright red at your words
"I know baby I know Don't worry, I got you.”
You're cut off by the feeling of his length spreading you so helplessly wide and his tip smashing against something which must be your cervix you think. It’s painful, but in the pain is so much pleasure. He presses his forehead against yours as he slides into you, gripping the sheets with his supporting hand as your hot, wet entrance swallows his cock. Instinctively, your cunt squeezed around the foreign intrusion, trying to push it out, making Suguru let out a low groan of his own and pushing even deeper into you. 
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he said hoarsely.
“Ngh so goo-"
You dont get to finish the thought because he pulls out and rams back into you with such a fever everything goes blank for a second.
His thrusts started out shallow and slow, testing the waters for how much he could get away with. What your limits were, and if you could fully take him for what he wanted. But that quickly changed to harsher thrusts, until he’s using you like his personal cock sleeve, shaping your insides and bruising your cervix until your entire body jolts with sensitivity.
Every thrust knocks the wind out of you, his tip smushing right against your cervix only to be pulled out and rammed back in again. And the sounds, god the sounds where sinful. Wet skin against skin echoed through the room and the sloshing sound of both of your arousals makes your eyes roll back.
You don't know what's happening, you couldn't even tell someone your own name if they asked. Your grip on the sheets was starting to get loose, tears flowing down to your cheeks, mouth hanging open with drool pooling on the sheets as you were already fucked out of your mind.
"Come on baby just keep your legs on my shoulders. Can you do that for me?" His breath is hot against your ear. "F-fuck please" he says through a groan. If you weren't so fucked out of your mind you would think that he was actually begging. And you were right. Suguru isn't a whimpering man but here he is, voice cracking from the vice grip your cunt  
You are too dumb to reply, only spurting outcries and whines about how good he was fucking you. He snapped his hips so fast that everything seemed like a dream, the bed was shaking immensely with the headboard banging on the wall and you were losing your mind from the friction of his dick against your walls.
"Wanna fuck you every day,"  he grunts out, pumping into you, the length and level of his arousal brutal. "fuck fuck fuck," he swears, as he brings a hand to the back of your head and presses your lips onto his. Your so dazed you practically drool into the kiss, letting him entangle his tongue with yours until spit smeared on either side of your lips. He doesn’t slow the movement for a second as he kisses you, giving you full, hard thrusts, your breasts bouncing from the brutality.
Suddenly, it hits you. Like an ignition of fire your brain goes white and you feel yourself ascend to euphoria.
“You gonna cum baby?" he coos into your hear, pressing light kisses on the hollow of your neck. "fuck, cum for me baby, please, cum on me."  His hand flew between your bodies to rapidly rub your clit back and forth, hurtling you towards your orgasm. Your pussy tightens so hard around his cock that he nearly has to stop his thrusts. Your mouth grows lax as you feel yourself splitting in two, coming with his cock buried deep inside you. 
“That’s it,” He fucks you through your orgasm, pouring every ounce of his strength into chasing his own high. His thrusts became sloppy, hips stuttering before he stilled his hips flushed against yours, burying himself in your creamy cunny.
“Fuck fuck fuck FUCK!”
His grip tightened significantly, a loud moan of your name slipping from his lips as his own orgasm washed over him, coming so hard he sees white. But he's not done.
Before you could recover, Suguru rolls you onto your back, in doggy, and slips into you. After the first thrust he has to hold still for a second, knowing that if he kept moving, if he gave himself up to the exquisite tightness, the heat, he would burst inside you again. But the moment of rest only lasts for a second. He resumes his brutal pace, pumping himself in and out of you. 
You are wetter then ever down there, there is no longer friction only the mind-numbing pleasure of his tip hitting your cervix again and again. 
There is no warning when he cums inside you again, you only know when you feel his cum drip down your thigh.
"Feel so good, you feel so good baby."
You're in heaven right now. Your mind has gone to a different space detached from this world. Every time Suguru pushes into you, his tip of his dick rubbed perfectly against the gummy spot in you that made your whole body shake.
“Fuckkkk… I’ll fill you up, make you a mommy, you’d like that wouldn’t you… shit.”
All you can do is dumbly nod as you felt the crescendo of your euphoria building and building. It was so hot, your skin was radiating heat and before you could say anything you were tumbling toward the end faster then you could put a stop to it.
“S’feels weird~” you babble, too fucked dumb to properly pronunciate words. 
“Oh yeah? What does it feel like?” He coos, grabbing either side of your hips harder to fuck himself into you from your behind.
“Like m’gonna pee I don’t-hah-” something was pressing down on your stomach and it was overtaking your body; too fast to put a stop to it. You started to shake, abdomen clenching and mouth going into the lock jaw, tongue rolling out as you squirted clear juices everywhere.
“Oh f- good girl" He says through a groan, not stopping for a second as your pussy fluttered and clenched around him.
11K notes · View notes
chuluoyi · 7 months ago
Text
𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 !
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- gojo satoru x reader // zen'in naoya x reader
you are an empress perfect in every way... until your husband suddenly casts you aside for his expecting mistress. but you won't be dethroned just like that, because the newly coronated western emperor, gojo satoru, sets his sights on you, and thus your revenge against your ex-husband begins...
genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—might be ooc, kinda slowburn, angst to eventual fluff, divorce, marriage of convenience, heavy pining (from gojo's part), childhood friends trope, mentions of infidelity, misogyny, infertility, explicit smut
note: loosely inspired by and taking some elements of manhwa remarried empress (but i promise you, it's different). my god, for the past month this is all i can think about *sobs* wc. 10.5k ! this is the longest thing i've ever posted here, and if you'd give it a chance, then i'll be really, really thankful!
credit header goes to @/gojokko in twitter!
next. the crown of diamonds | long live the empire
general masterlist | series masterlist
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“I accept the divorce.”
Your perfect life was done for. Everything you had worked hard towards— it was now in shambles and tatters.
You, an ethereal, revered empress... someone untarnished in the face of public and private, had just agreed to the emperor’s blatant request of separation.
“My god... how can this be!?”
“Your Majesty! Please reconsider!”
Emperor Zen’in Naoya of the Eastern Empire, your husband—and companion for more than ten years—smirked as he looked down at you, paying zero attention to the uproar in this courthouse.
But then you heard that kind, velvety voice from the back of your head:
“If you become my empress… that will make me the happiest man alive.”
This place has turned into a whopping circus ever since you and Naoya stepped inside anyway. And so, having nothing worthy left to lose, you declared, “And I demand an immediate approval for my remarriage.”
Your boldness once again stirred a wave of clamor among the crowd, and even Naoya was glaring at you in disbelief now. “A remarriage…? How dare you—!”
“Well... is it the time for my grand entrance?”
Deep from behind the curtains, suddenly he emerged, dressed in the most lavish robes befitting his own throne, outshining everyone in the room as if he was the one owning the place.
“Heh.” His low chuckle stunned even the mass as he took big strides towards where you were.
This would seal your fate. From now onwards, you would no longer be the perfect empress. Your messy divorce and remarriage will relegate that image to history.
“My goodness, that’s…” the woman in the front gasped. “Western Empire’s…”
“Gojo… Satoru?” Naoya's eyes lit with genuine fury as the other man took his place by your side. “You couldn't possibly mean…!”
You interrupted him regally. “Yes, he is the man I wish to remarry.”
This event was going to blow up tomorrow, with scandalous titles no less than The Deposed Empress Remarries! And there was no going back, ever.
How did your pristine life turn into such a shameful debacle? None of these turn of events would be imaginable for you several years prior...
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SATORU, THE CROWN PRINCE OF WESTERN EMPIRE
To Satoru, you were more than just the east’s breathtaking empress—you had captured his attention long before you ascended to that role.
Seven years ago, you were the renowned noble lady, the paragon of perfection sought after by many lords and monarchs alike.
You were both cunning and fair, pretty in the face, came from an illustrious family known for birthing famous empresses in either western and eastern empires. You were the quintessential template that mothers advised their sons to seek in a wife.
The fairest in the land—that was how people called you. And Gojo Satoru is always and only interested in the best.
“Suguru... look at her.” His eyes would soften at the sight of you as he nudged at his closest ally and confidant, the duke. “She is so... pretty, isn’t she?”
Unfortunately, you had been promised to the Eastern Empire’s crown prince from a long time ago too. There was little that the outsiders, including himself—even if he was the heir apparent to his own throne—could do to sway your heart.
“There's more to women than their faces, Satoru,” Suguru sighed, thinking that what he had was a mere lust. “Moreover, she’s engaged to the Zen’in... and they have a very good relationship. Nothing you can do about that.”
“Hmph.”
To be honest, he couldn’t fathom what you could possibly like about that murderous Zen’in spawn. He was a pompous human being, no less.
How on earth could you stand someone like that? Satoru had always wondered… especially when it was well-known to the land that you and him were on good terms despite your arranged marriage.
—and once, he thought he knew who you are…
. . .
Satoru swallowed the bitterness rising in his throat as he attended the royal wedding of you and Zen’in Naoya. Despite hating the circumstances, he had to admit it was a fairytale wedding—albeit with the wrong groom.
You were the epitome of picture book princess. In his eyes, and in the eyes of the attendees of your wedding.
Oh, and he made headlines too, that day—
“My princess, may I have this dance?”
Two hours hadn’t even passed by after you swore your vows as Naoya’s bride, and there he was, asking for your first dance, in your own wedding ball, right in front of your newly wedded husband.
Everyone bet on you turning him down and making a fool of himself, but instead, to spare his feelings, you put your delicate hand in his, and with a wide, shy smile, you said, “Yes.”
Satoru thought it was his greatest achievement then. To have made Naoya red-faced, to have made him watch as he put his hands on your waist, twirl you around— and come one breath away from your face.
“Princess, you’re…” his breath caught as he pulled you close, staring straight at your face—and suddenly he felt like life was so unfair to him as the slow melody of waltz was all he could hear.
How could you be this close... and yet so far by being somebody else’s wife?
And yet he forced the words out, with sincerity he had never showed anyone else before, even as his heart bled and shattered. “You’re so incredibly beautiful.”
Your eyes widened, sparkling with wonder, before you thanked him with the loveliest of smiles. “Thank you. You’re too kind.”
Satoru was certain... you had ruined him, because no one else would ever be able to turn his world with just a smile like you did, even as you broke his heart too into a million pieces.
. . .
Ever since that day, everyone had branded him as a prince in search of scandal—coveting the princess married to Zen’in clan.
What everyone didn’t know was that it went beyond that. His obsession of you went beyond your beauty and charms and wits. Rather, it goes a long way back.
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YOU, THE CROWN PRINCESS OF EASTERN EMPIRE
As inconceivable as it was, once upon a time, you and Naoya were a truly, happy couple.
Handpicked by the late emperor to become his son’s wife, you couldn’t be more proud. With you being the next empress of the Eastern Empire, your clan once again proved itself that it was always worthy of a seat in the monarchy.
But beyond that, you were elated that it was Naoya that you ended up marrying. Your own childhood friend, who often led you around his palace by hand and filled your days with many joy and laughs.
“One day soon, when we are the emperor and the empress—” younger Naoya was always someone who had big dreams about ruling his nation. “We will create a nation in which no one can do anything as they please! We’ll establish order, and anyone who goes against it will be punished! That way, it’ll encourage fairness!”
Not knowing it yourself, you had given your heart wholly to him. You had agreed to all his dreams and visions. You devoted yourself to them all, even more so after your marriage and coronation, as he promised you an ever after.
“From now on, it’s going to be me and you, Empress.”
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YOU, THE EMPRESS OF EASTERN EMPIRE
“Your role is to give an heir to the throne, Empress.”
Your title had never sounded so heavy to you before now, especially when Naoya was the one saying it.
You sighed, gathering your wits and scattered feelings before levelling your calm gaze on your husband. “I understand that, Your Majesty. But it is not something that I can do on my own.”
This year would mark the fifth year of your marriage to Naoya. You understood that the fact you still weren’t able to be with his child would raise questions from the court, but still, must you be reminded of this fact over and over?
Your husband—no, the emperor—barked a satire laugh.
“Oh, really? As I understand it, being infertile is not something I can help you with.”
That hurt. It was a searing pain, like being branded with a red-hot iron. And it felt as if he had torn through your chest with his fist alone.
“I’m not infertile.” Your eyes gleamed with pure defiance as you lifted your chin, facing him in his audience chamber.
It dawned on you that lately, one of the few ways you could speak to him was by requesting an audience as opposed to your usual midnight talks in your private chambers.
When did it start to change? Or was Naoya this kind of person right from the very beginning and you were just blinded by love back then?
"Oh? And what would you call being childless for five years then?" Naoya sneered at you from his dais, placing one hand on his jaw. "Bad luck? You must be terribly cursed with misfortune then."
You fisted your dress, summoning all your strength to hold back tears. Don't you dare cry. Not in front of him.
It wasn't as if you didn't want to carry his heir. For many women, holding their baby in their arms is a cherished dream, and when they hold a position of power like yours, it becomes not just a desire but a duty.
You tried everything—calling in the best doctors, consuming horrible potions, even consulting with the oracle. And they all said you were perfectly healthy and fine. You were at your wits end too.
The irony. You were celebrated in public for your competence, while privately, you suffered your husband's cold detachment and cruel remarks.
. . .
"Empress, where should we put the welcome gifts?"
You studied the floor plan of the banquet hall for your annual New Year's ball with a thoughtful hum before pointing at the entrance.
"Place it here. We want our guests to know that we are generous, and it's easily accessible since the parlor is the first area they reach after arriving."
You loved planning festivities. It was therapeutic in a way, and it gave you little time to think of anything else.
"Oh, and I want to have a welcome arch and flowers placed at the entrance too. This is the grandest event of the year, second only to the Emperor's birthday... we must display the grandeur that befits such an occasion."
Your head maidservant, Hanabi, placed a hand on her abdomen and nodded with a warm smile. "That's a very clever suggestion, Your Majesty! I'll ensure they arrange everything just as you wish!"
As she scurried away, you watched her with an assessing gaze. Hanabi had been with you throughout the five years of your marriage, always at your side, assisting with day-to-day matters and serving as your confidant. She was a great aide.
And you were observant by nature... so of course you noticed things.
...and if you were correct, then she was most definitely with a child.
The thing is... she is unmarried. You hesitated to jump to conclusions without evidence, yet the timing struck you as more than coincidental—it nagged at you for weeks now, suggesting a connection you hoped did not exist.
Because if they really did... then...
You didn't dare to think, because it would be more than a nightmare. But you weren't able to let this go either, so you did what was necessary.
You planted a note in Hanabi's chamber, and then you waited in the gardens, the chilly midnight air wrapping around you like a shroud.
You had done everything you could. Five years ago, you let go of everything and had decided to spend your life with your first love—Naoya.
Because you truly and devotedly love him. You give your all for him—for your life together.
"Ooh, Your Majesty~! It's so cold out here, why not in our usual—"
Hanabi's voice faltered as soon as she saw your crimson gown, feeling like the world had collapsed on her. And you rigidly turned towards her, feeling more or less the same.
And yet, what you had received from him is the greatest betrayal.
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SATORU, THE EMPEROR OF THE WESTERN EMPIRE
He first realized something was clearly wrong with you during the New Year’s ball that you hosted.
Satoru had just been crowned emperor during this time, and though rulers typically sent envoys to such grand celebrations due to concurrent festivities in their own lands, it had been several months since he last saw you. He wants to see you.
A meritless action, but he wanted to, regardless.
But that day, you were a fantastic actress in this stage called banquet hall and nobody was the wiser… but he would know, because you mattered a lot to him.
"Your Majesty, you don't seem well." He approached you with a glass of champagne, affixing a friendly smile. "Is there anything amiss?"
Taken aback, you didn't expect such close proximity that you took a step back. His smile almost faltered, but he kept it up.
"Emperor Satoru—"
"Ah, none of that, no. Address me just as you usually do, hmm?"
A smile finally tugged at your lips. "How is that fair, when you address me so formally?"
Satoru chuckled. "You, my queen, deserve all the finery and grandeur there is. And I will see to it that you do."
That was his nickname for you ever since you ascended the throne. Both of your countries refer you as “empress”, but he loves addressing you as “queen” instead.
There was a shift in your expression, and he thought you looked melancholic. It bothered him, stirring a desire to erase that somber look from you. Because above anything and everything, you had to be happy and smiling.
"You're still a flirt, I see, Satoru," you remarked, throwing him a soft smile. "It won't do you good if you're seen with me most of the time, you know."
No, I’m doing this just for you. He wanted to tell you that, but he sighed instead. "You've got it wrong. When I'm in the company of the most beautiful woman in the lands, what's there to be ashamed of?"
Perhaps hearing that finally melted you a bit as you freely giggled this time, and Satoru was glad that he made you laugh even a little.
"You would think that, huh..." you fondly mumbled. And then your expression crumbled, and he could've sworn something painful flashed in your eyes—
What happened to you? He so desperately wanted to ask, but then he saw that preying gaze on both of you. Zen’in Naoya. Satoru clicked his tongue as he watched him weave through the crowd, his gaze locked ominously on both of you.
“Seems like we don’t have much time, after all,” he began, urgency sharpening his words. “But rest assured, whenever you want to talk to me, just send a little birdie my way and I shall answer.”
“Huh?” you blinked at him questioningly, totally not getting what he meant.
He winked, then took your hand and placed a kiss on it, eliciting murmurs of surprise from the crowd at his bold gesture. “And chin up, my queen. You have nothing to fear, and if it makes you feel better...”
He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “To me, a diamond is most beautiful. And you… are one that sparkles above all.”
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“Naoya, unhand me this instant!”
You were tired of this shit, of Naoya always manhandling you—of him always having a total control over you.
After seeing how close you got to Satoru, Naoya practically saw red. Still, in the prying eyes of public, he remained unperturbed, but his vice-like grip on your arm was sure to leave bruise as he unkindly led you out of the ballroom.
"Naoya!" you raised your voice this time, even louder than before, uncaring even when the wandering eyes of the servants curiously followed the two of you.
You were not made an empress just to follow him. And with that conviction, you forcibly pulled your arm away from his grip right after he shut the door to the drawing room close, not even wincing at the stinging feeling.
His eyes shone with anger. “You insolent—!”
“No—” You stood your ground, and suddenly you got very irate and burst out, “How dare you, Zen’in Naoya!”
He looked at you with equal surprise and mortification, clearly unprepared for your righteous tirade.
"You have made a mockery of our marriage! You have insulted me and your own throne by carrying on with— with the help! My maid!" you screamed at his face, pure anger coursing through your veins. "How could you!?"
Naoya took in your outburst with eerie silence, a sneer slowly forming on his lips. "You get riled up over that? Have you forgotten emperors are free to take mistresses, especially when the empress isn't capable to bear any heirs?"
A burning arrow shot straight to your heart at his response but you willed yourself not to show it. "Regardless, you could've done better and not put our throne to shame by fucking a servant."
"I've told you time and time again. A woman's duty is to bear children, and since you've proven yourself beyond barren, I did you a favor."
"A favor...?"
"As soon as Hanabi births that child, you can raise him as your own," Naoya frankly stated unabashedly, as if proud with his idea. "Saves you the trouble and I get my heir, a win-win solution, no?"
Raise him as my own...? Saves the trouble? You could've sworn that throughout your entire life, you had never been so insulted before now, right in this moment.
"What I do, I always have my throne in mind. And yet you..." his eyes narrowed into unsatisfied slits. "What are you trying to achieve by whoring yourself to that rake, Gojo Satoru? Are you telling people of the ton that you're having an affair?"
His voice made you want to throw up. The realization that everything you thought you had together might have meant nothing to him at all made you feel sick.
And so, hiding your trembling hands and swallowing you unshed tears, you responded to him with a clipped tone—
"You're most despicable, Naoya. And you are a complete fool if you think even for a second that I'd want to raise your bastard!"
He seemed taken aback by your rejection, but you didn't falter. "And oh, since you want to make use of that lowly maid so much, feel free to take her back and track her down yourself, because I've sent that wench away."
With that, you turned your back on him, striding out with your head held high, even as your life crumbled into dust.
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Days after your full-blown argument with Naoya, your situation only worsened. By now, even the palace servants knew you had incurred his wrath, while Hanabi had won his favor by carrying his child—possibly the heir to the throne.
The child she was carrying was no threat to your position. After all, you were the empress. A child of your blood would trample over any bastard.
However, you'd be damned if you shared a bed with him again, and Naoya made it clear that his mistress would be elevated to the rank of royal consort. Given the current trajectory—and history's tendency to repeat itself—emperors often divorced or banished their empresses in favor of their mistresses.
Bah. You could only scoff at your laughable predicament. You came from a prestigious clan and were revered, yet now you were no more than a scorned woman.
Dark thoughts consumed your mind for a time—you couldn't deny that you had considered leaving the palace for self-imposed exile or even ending your life. However, reason always prevailed.
You wouldn't give Naoya what he wanted most: your compliance. And around the time when you resolved to do that, a finely decorated envelope arrived at your study, with no signature whatsoever.
Intrigued, you opened it to find an intricate dried rose bookmark and a folded letter nestled inside.
Greetings to you, my queen. Yeah, it's me. Hope you won't be too surprised. But if you do, know that I always mean well.
Satoru. You weren't expecting this. A small smile tugged at your lips. How long had it been since you last smiled so freely?
I've heard you love reading, hence the bookmark. Fun fact: I made it myself, with Shoko's help. She is sooo bad at explaining though so if the flower is wrinkled... please blame her.
This time, you giggled. He was an emperor, for god's sake. Should someone of his station write so informally like this?
Now... I'm no oracle, but even I know that you must be having bad days. And so, let me entertain you with several tales from my kingdom. So, the other day, my good friend Suguru, the duke—you must've heard of him surely (they said he is the most handsome bachelor in the West but they must be missing an eye for saying so because clearly I'm more!)—just fired a pair of his servants because he caught them in a thirst! He is so uptight! Why can't he let two people in love be!?
Before you knew it, you found yourself chuckling at the lines upon lines of anecdotes Satoru had penned in the letter. The way he wrote, it was as if he was right here, saying all of this to you in real-time. For a while, you were completely absorbed in the world of the Western Empire he described, and all your worries and anxieties seemed to fade away.
Okay, that's it for now. This is just a teaser actually, so if you want to subscribe to more tales of my humble little country, you can always be my empress reply to this letter! :D Look out for a white cat near your windowsill during the hour of snake—he is my trained pet, and put your message in his little backpack. Don't worry, he's cute and doesn't bite!
You were so giddy by the end. His message warmed your heart so much that your eyes grew misty. In the aftermath of Naoya's betrayal, you were certain your life would be filled with much sadness to come.
Yet, your friendship with Satoru might just be the thing that would save you.
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No matter how much his friends Duke Geto and Countess Shoko urged him to see reason—that you were no longer available and occupied with your duties as the empress of your own empire—Satoru couldn't help but still cast an eye your way.
You were clearly unhappy, and to him, someone as radiant as you should be happy.
And so, that was why he took his quill and started writing that letter to be sent to your place, along with a rose strapped inside.
He knew that, being the kind person you were, you would most likely respond, but still, the moment his cat arrived back with your reply, he was elated beyond measure.
Of course I knew it right away! I omitted your name because who knows who might catch your cat on the way. Anyway, I hope Mr. Cat will arrive back to you safe and sound. Firstly, thank you for your letter. I must say I'm so happy to receive it :) I haven't had best days so reading it made me smile. And secondly, of course I'll subscribe to your stories of Western Empire. I've been wanting to visit it myself but just haven't gotten the chance to... so if you will continue it, I shall be happy to read :D
If anything he wrote brought you joy, then Satoru was content. He had achieved his goal then.
And it was his own little secret that... by corresponding with you, it allowed him to savor the feeling of having you as his own, if only through words.
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Mr. Cat's name is Sugu-chan after Suguru but you can call him whatever you wish. And don't worry, he is strong and can fight if necessary! And don't be too formal with me, my queen. We have known each other forever. Anyway do tell me, what is your favorite color now? Let me guess, is it still that specific shade of crimson?
You name your cat after your best friend...? And you're making it hard for me to be less formal when you always address me as queen! Hmm, I suppose so. I love burgundy. I've even had my study designed with that exact color scheme. It just gives me the confidence I need, you know.
So you still love burgundy... I'll keep that in mind ;) Frankly, any shade of crimson suits you—you're always a vision in them. Back then and especially during your coronation. I love blue, so I think we're a match? :D
Back then...? Hmm, surprisingly yes, red and blue would make a good match... Anyway, I believe you promised me unusual tales from your 'humble little country', so please indulge me!
You've forgotten it already? Around the time we first met, back when I was still known as "the cursed prince"? It holds such importance for me but sadly it seems like it was just a passing moment to you :( Oh, yeah, I haven't forgotten about it! So, this time let me tell you about the time when Earl Nanami got wasted . . .
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Days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. Amidst the turmoil of your marriage, exchanging letters with Satoru became your sole respite. His stories regarding his own empire amused you, and sometimes it got you to wonder what it was like to live there.
However, running away from your problems would never solve them. Writing to Satoru may have helped you to cope, but still, your real issue with Naoya wouldn't vanish simply just by ignoring him.
. . .
"Your Majesty..."
For a good one minute, you stood still. Your lady-in-waiting had delivered an earth-shattering news—but admittedly, a possibility you thought was in the cards the moment you went against Naoya.
"His majesty has summoned the high priest to his study," the elderly woman added, close to tears. "But it is very likely that he has submitted the petition for—" her voice faltered when she caught sight of the emptiness in your eyes, unable to continue.
A divorce. Naoya had been considering a divorce. And by now, he was set on it.
"I'm so, so sorry..." she choked out, her voice breaking with sorrow to mourn you, but you remained expressionless, lost in your thoughts.
The last time an empress of Eastern Empire was divorced was more or less a century ago, because she had committed a grave treachery against a royal consort by poisoning her. She was sentenced to death by hanging afterwards.
The irony. You were in similar situation, only that you weren't vengeful enough to resort to poisoning Hanabi. Speaking of her, her baby was due in another four months, and now she was living happily in Naoya's quarters.
"Don't be. I'm perfectly fine."
To consolidate his illegitimate child's position, Naoya used the most effective way. Since you wouldn't listen to him, and Hanabi must be a far delightful companion rather than you, he was more than willing to cast you aside in favor of making her his empress instead.
You thought it would hurt more, and yet what you felt the most right in this moment was white-hot anger. This is unacceptable. It was the greatest insult to you both as a woman and as the empress.
Now, all you could think of was how to uphold your dignity and plot your exit from this palace with your head still held high.
If I can't be the empress here...
And after a sleepless night, you came to a daring solution. And your plan—
...I'll be one somewhere else.
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It was an invitation, Satoru thought, almost in disbelief. Or it sounded a lot like one, didn't it?
Heart beating a little faster and blushing, he reread the latest letter you had sent him.
It's only the beginning of summer, and the heat is sweltering... I'm considering treating myself to a trip to the winery village on the border between the east and west. I think it'll be nice if I have a companion...
Winery village was right in the middle of the western and eastern empires, and it was a safe zone. Vineyards were vast and thick, but it wasn't exactly a popular vacation spot. So, it intrigued him why you would want to go there.
Just as he was about to reply to you that it was a very good coincidence that he too wanted to pay a visit to the said village, suddenly—
"Gojo! Gojoooo!" Shoko suddenly burst into his study, startling him.
"Shoko! What the heck?!"
Lady Shoko might be a countess, but she, Satoru, and Suguru all attended the same royal academy. Despite their prestigious titles now, Satoru insisted that in private, both Suguru and Shoko address him just as they did before he ascended the throne.
Still, she was ruder than Suguru in many ways. Satoru gave her a stink eye, but his confusion grew as she seemed to be delivering momentous news.
"Gojo, have you heard that Naoya will divorce Y/N?!"
"Wha?" it felt like a ton of bricks suddenly fell down on his head. And then his friend proceeded to tell him everything she knew.
"It wasn't made official yet, but even the townsfolk have been talking about it. They also said that Naoya have taken a mistress, and that she was formerly the empress' maid."
Satoru listened to her in silence, but the moment he heard that the Zen'in spawn planned to divorce you, anger flared within him. And to add insult to injury, he two-timed you with a servant?
The fucking bastard. He never deserved you at all. How crushed must you have been, enduring all this shit?
"Now, I wouldn't normally encourage you this," Shoko took out the cigarette she stashed in the folds of her dress and sighed. "But since you never let go of that weird fixation on her, should the royal divorce happen..." she shrugged as she took a seat in front of him.
"No matter how laughable it is, you might have a chance."
She is so right. These long years of longing for your affections and dreaming of having even a minute more of your time... there was now chance to turn it to reality.
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When you arrived at the winery village for your vacation to breathe in some fresh air, honestly, everything was still in shambles.
You couldn't forget the horrified looks from the court when Naoya announced the divorce. Most were shocked and pleaded with him to reconsider. Some from your circle of ladies even sobbed, openly stating that you didn't deserve this fate.
“Empress... His Majesty shouldn't be that harsh...” Hanabi had said to you afterwards, seemingly concerned for you. “Your legacy here… I’ll make sure to carry them on.”
Sometimes you didn’t know whether Hanabi was pretending to be dumb or indeed she was. One thing you knew though...
“I wish you luck on that, Hanabi.” You looked down at her with eyes as cold as ice. “Beware, the Emperor is fickle, be sure to not run out of entertainments.”
You knew you deserved a better fate than being the empress of the Eastern Empire, but seeing those who still cared for you made you solemn. Your loyal maids, those who supported you... and what about organizations you've spent time and energy to?
“My queen, ah, there you are.”
Satoru's voice from behind startled you, interrupting your daydreams. He quickly came beside you and extended his hand, asking for yours.
You offered him your right hand, and he promptly pressed a kiss on it, his bright blue eyes gazing up at you.
It wasn't as if you just noticed how pretty his eyes were, but now that there was no ballroom and scrutinizing eyes around you, you couldn't deny that the way his eyes sparkled as he gazed at you—solely and purely on you—made you breathless.
What... would it be like to have this man... to be your husband instead?
"I missed you. I know we talk daily through letters, but seeing your beauty firsthand is always a sight for sore eyes," he cheekily commented as he let go of your hand. "Now, I get to see you without your pesky husband around, and yeah, you never fail to make my silly heart race."
You chuckled. "You always flatter me..."
He only gave you a toothy smile, and you two strolled the vineyard. For a while, you talked about nothing of importance, like where your ladies-in-waiting were, how things were from his side.
"How do you find being the emperor?"
"It's tiring! It's boring too to look through accounts and oversee those trivial state affairs! And not to mention how many people have been nagging me to take a wife soon!"
"Oh? You haven't been on the lookout already?"
"Nah. No one is good enough, I need someone already familiar with state affairs and such," he said, wrinkling his nose sourly at the thought. But then he cast his eyes on you.
"And frankly, you are my standard," he fixed you a meaningful smile. "No one comes close. If you weren't betrothed to the Zen'in back then, I'd have proposed you in a heartbeat."
Thump. Thump. Thump. Your dead heart suddenly came to life. Gojo Satoru had just confessed his affections for you so candidly, and it got you thinking how much easier your life would be with him. He would love you, take care of you...
And beguile you.
His eyes fondly crinkled at you. "You are everything I desire in a woman to be my wife."
He adores you so easily, so fluidly... and yet, Naoya, who has you fully, is throwing you away.
Satoru observed how your face fell once again, just as it had during the New Year's ball. And now he knew, it was because you were facing your impending divorce.
But he wasn't going to tell you that, instead, he would willingly be your confidant and offer you his very being. He was about to crack a joke to lift your spirits, when you blurted—
"What if I said... I want to be your empress?" you kept your pace, not looking at him at all. "What if I said... I'll leave everything and come to you?"
Huh? What…?
That was loaded. Have you entertained the thought too? Satoru had craved the very idea for so long he didn’t even miss a beat—
“Then I’d marry you.” His voice was straight and true, shooting straight to the most tender part of you that Naoya had torn to shreds. “If you become my empress… that will make me the happiest man alive.”
No hesitation. It almost reduced you to tears. You stopped where you stood, willing yourself not to tremble. There is still one person who sees this much value in you.
“Then I’ll be yours,” you breathed out. “I’ll be your empress, Satoru.”
Satoru could've sworn time had stopped. If one moment ago, you looked like you were about to shatter, now you were a vision of the dignified and perfect queen he had always known you were.
“I’ll be your queen— your everything.” You declared, locking eyes with him, the intensity of your gaze not escaping him.
How many years had he dreamed of this moment? How many long nights had he endured, yearning for you, knowing you were beyond his reach?
Finally, finally... Satoru grinned, swearing to all the divine beings out there that he had never known how liberating it was to finally have what he wanted. “That would be my greatest honor.”
He drew you close—you let him—and after one second of taking in your enchanting eyes, he crashed his lips against yours.
His lips started soft and gentle, then became fiery as his tongue met yours. He pulled you closer, one arm around your waist and the other holding the back of your head. You responded eagerly, pressing against him, fingers tracing his neck and feeling the lines of his undercut.
One is finally having the woman he had wanted for so long, and the other was plotting her escape from her misery.
You were using him. He knew it. Yet, he didn't care. Hidden behind bushes and vines, you shared your very first heated kiss, aware that this moment would leave its mark as both the greatest stain and triumph in your lives.
And when he finally pulled away, lips swollen and wet, with a wolfish grin, he promised you once again—
“Give me everything that is yours... and I swear on my life, I will do everything to turn your life into a living dream.”
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“Empress, your husband His Majesty the Emperor, has requested a divorce.”
It was how your once pristine life transformed into the scandal of the century inside the courthouse.
"If you accept this petition, then you will no longer be the Empress of Eastern Empire. You will lose all the rights you have as a senior member of the imperial family..."
You donned your finest attire—the intricate crimson and black dress you had designed and commissioned the dressmaker to create. Today, faced with Naoya's divorce decree, it would be the last time you adorned the colors of his empire.
"The ties that bound you together as husband and wife would be severed—"
Good riddance, you thought.
"If this is not what you want, you have the right to—"
"I accept the divorce."
Your voice cut through the heavy solemness of the witnesses and turned them into a mass of disbelief. You disregarded Naoya's smirk and held the priest's gaze. "And I demand an immediate approval for my remarriage."
The crowd was in for a second wave of uproar when you boldly stood your ground, and they erupted into clamors once again when Satoru made his grand entrance and took his place beside you.
"You—!" Naoya was so furious that he roared. "This is my empire!"
"And?" Satoru challenged with a dauntless smile. "I'm here to propose, and since she accepts your divorce request, I believe she has no relations with you any longer and is free to marry someone else."
You remained motionless, until your cold fingers met warmth when Satoru linked his hand with yours reassuringly.
"This is treachery! I won't fucking permit it!" Naoya hollered as he faced the high priest, who had a grim face while observing this three-way headlock between the three of you.
"Emperor Naoya, that matter falls into the jurisdiction of the church." The high priest let out a sigh and then turned to you, assessing your calm gaze.
Regardless, Naoya paid him no mind. "I refuse to grant you any permission to remarry! You will be banished to the cold palace until the rest of your pitiful days! Not only do you fail miserably by being barren beyond help, you also dare to whore yourself—" he was now rambling curses at you before everyone in the court, and it pierced you deeply—
Until Satoru tugged you behind him, so that you wouldn't have to see his face any longer.
"High priest!" Satoru's voice blared as he clenched his jaw, irate at the string of profanities directed at you. "Do you still truly believe that the deposed empress can't remarry? When she has suffered through this man's downright betrayal?"
Your head was spinning. You wanted this whole ordeal to be over already.
And thankfully, even the high priest saw reason, that you were undeserving of this debacle. In the end, his words held more weight than anyone else's, even Naoya's.
"I accept Empress Y/N petition to marry Emperor Satoru!"
In the chaos of the courthouse after the high priest granted your wish, Naoya shook his head in disbelief, looking at both of you with intense disdain.
"You've always wanted that wench, haven't you, Gojo?" Naoya cackled with a malice you would never have expected from someone who had been your husband for ten years.
You had tuned out all the noise. This dumpster fire was too much even for you. But then, you felt a strong arm enveloping you, sealing your fate as the match made in this courtroom—
"I have, yeah," Satoru replied with a smug grin. "And now that she is mine... it's just the beginning of your downfall, Zen'in."
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Your wedding banquet in Western Empire lasted a week long.
True to his promise, Satoru spared no effort to make you happy. The moment he brought you to his palace, he ordered immediate plans for wedding celebrations. Make it grand, make it unforgettable... he took charge himself.
And on the final, seventh day, as you were about to be formally crowned as the empress of the western lands, you were stunned.
"This is your coronation dress, Empress," your new lady-in-waiting, Shoko, said with pride. "Gojo— I mean, His Majesty, specifically has his late mother's dress altered to suit you."
You promised yourself that you would no longer wear any shades of crimson. As much as you loved the color, it reminded you too much of your homeland and Naoya. No matter how much you despised him now, once upon a time, he was everything you loved and more.
And you thought you couldn't possibly love another color until you saw the extravagant navy dress in your chamber. Made of luxurious satin and adorned with literal diamonds, it shimmered under the light and flowed gracefully with layers of brocade cascading to the floor.
To give you something so valuable... You had expected to enter into a marriage out of necessity, but your new husband had no intention of ceasing his ways to win your heart.
If it's with him, maybe... just maybe...
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Today is the day.
Satoru sat on his throne before his court in the grand hall of his audience chamber. His hair was pulled back, and he was dressed in his official attire, robe of silk and a crown made of pure gold.
Next to him, another resplendent crown adorned with jewels and diamonds shimmered in the light—the empress' crown. Your crown.
Today was the day this empire would truly acknowledge his queen. He stole a glance at you on his other side, and his breath was taken away.
With your hair tucked into an elegant updo, you were the very vision of a fairytale queen. You were incredibly stunning, almost otherworldly— shade of blue suited you as much as crimson did, just as he thought.
This day would go down in history. But before that, he would ensure that the news would reach Zen'in Naoya. He would spite him so hard.
"Today marks a momentous occasion. We gather here to celebrate not only my marriage and my new wife's coronation," Satoru glanced at his audience with a smirk, his expression widening as he spotted his best friends Suguru and Shoko. "But also the start of her reign... and as we know it already, her fame and beauty are second to none."
The crowd burst into giggles, clearly aware of his scandal at the Eastern Empire's courthouse. And even you smiled.
Satoru shrugged, playfully rolling his eyes. "Spare me, I'm a newlywed, after all. Anyway..." His gaze shifted to the intricate crown, a relic of his late mother's, and then back to you. "Come."
You knelt before your new husband, bowing your head. The whirlwind journey from the East, your remarriage to Satoru... It had all felt surreal until this moment. Now, the weight of reality settled upon you, almost shaking your very core—
But just as the thought crossed your mind, Satoru placed the crown upon your head. As the jewels settled into place and you rose to face the crowd, his voice cut through the air:
"And here I present to you, your new empress!"
The room erupted in applause, the cheers echoing around you. Everyone congratulated you without fail, and your breath was taken away.
It was a sight beyond belief, as they chanted your name, over and over again—
“ALL HAIL THE EMPRESS!”
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"I have something for you!"
You wouldn't expect that you would ditch your last night of wedding celebrations along with your husband, and yet here you were, led by the hand by a very giddy Satoru.
"Where are we going?" you questioned him, your pretty dress sweeping the halls in a rush.
He turned to you to send you a wink. "Trust me, sweetheart. You'll love it."
Somehow the way he called you made your heart thump a little faster inside your ribcage. This man is really, truly, your husband now.
He was such a refreshing person, it almost made you let go of everything that molded you into the perfect empress in the east, and be just... you.
"Here." Both of you stopped in front of a grand door, and he ushered you inside. "Come, come~"
A study, you realized as you stepped inside, but then a gasp left your lips—
"How do you find it, hmm?" Satoru put an arm around your waist, proud of how the burgundy walls and mats enveloped the entire space, creating a tranquil sight that perfectly matched your taste.
It was so much like your private study in the Eastern Empire's palace. You might now hate that place, but your private study was filled with the memories of smiles while writing back to Satoru's letters and waiting for his cat to come. And to have this now in your new home...
"You remembered..." you looked up to him, almost tearing up.
"Of course I do," he pressed a kiss on your temple. "I said that so long as you're with me, I'll turn your dream into reality, didn't I?"
This man really treasures you, or at least that was what his actions had proven so far.
"You're everything I've ever wanted and more," Satoru said, wrapping his arms around you from behind in a warm embrace. "You might not realize it, but I've been in love with you since you first visited western lands."
"What?" you turned to him with genuine confusion. "How?"
"That blind boy who you led by the hand... he had no friends," Satoru sighed against you. "The first and only person who asked him if he was lost... is you."
Suddenly, you were thrown back in time to your first encounter with Satoru many years ago. He was known as "cursed" for being born with peculiar eyes, had been blind for a period of his childhood, before he awakened the true extent of those brilliant blue eyes and brought his clan to power by wielding them.
Back then, you thought it was wrong for him to be left alone, so you took him by the hand and escorted him back to the palace, unaware that he was the infamously cursed crown prince.
"You made me feel less lonely. And I thought then... someday, somehow... through some sort of miracle in which I regained my eyesight and could see you... I'd immediately ask for your hand."
But you were named the crown princess of the Eastern Empire. The thought of how crushed Satoru must have felt upon hearing the news pricked at your heart.
You felt soft, you felt loved, and most of all, you felt an overwhelming certainty that with this man by your side, you would finally experience the genuine love that had been missing from your life for so long.
"You have me now," you whispered in response.
Unlike your first kiss in the winery village, this time, you were the one who faced him and pulled him into a searing kiss.
Be it impulse, overwhelming feelings or something else... you didn't care. You just want him.
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And wouldn't you know, your new husband... is also a wonderful, dashing lover.
"You're so... fucking beautiful..." Satoru's lips were on yours, claiming them with a fierce passion that left you breathless. His hands roamed your body, tracing each curves and lines.
You moaned into his mouth, clutching his robes. He captured your wrists with one hand, using the other to tilt your head back so he could leave bruises on your neck in the process, making you moan.
"Keep making that sound, yeah?" Satoru rasped, his hot breath giving you goosebumps. "Keep me going with your voice."
As he gripped your waist, it dawned to him once again that you were here, with him.
Seeing his colors on you ignited desire straight to his cock. His empress was stunning, more so now than ever, more than any woman Satoru had ever seen.
He led you to the bed, his movements urgent yet tender. The air was thick with desire as you lay back, pulling him down with you. You arched your back, pressing yourself closer to him, craving more.
This wasn't your first time, yet you had never been this excited before. From heated kisses until somehow managing to get rid of your underwear and left you in your dress... your body nearly thrashed in response.
"Look at you... An queen of two empires, yet rendered putty in my hands," Satoru wickedly grinned as he slipped a hand under your dress, rubbing his thumb teasingly over your clit. You let out a soft sigh at the prodding. You were getting wetter by each second... and Satoru felt his cock straining against the tight material of his dress pants.
"More..." you pleaded, arching your hips. "More...!"
Any of your wishes would be his command, so he pushed two fingers inside you at once, and you let out an erotic gasp. Satoru was so close to tearing his pants off by seeing how tight you clenched around his digits.
Breathy moans fell from your lips with each harsh brush of his thumb over your clit, his fingers fucking you fast—
"Satoru...!" you shuddered, gripping his shoulders as you became limp and came into his hands in spurts.
"My queen..." he then captured your lips in a brash kiss, and you reciprocated it. He pulled away only to press his forehead against yours in an attempt to calm his raging heart. "No matter what."
His watery, sparkling eyes was mesmerizing to you, and you took one breath before you crashed your lips into his, tangling your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer.
"As pretty as you look in this, I'm going to take it off," Satoru murmured with a meaningful smirk, slowly undoing the laces of your dress. "I want to see you completely naked... just for me."
Soon, you laid bare, and the cold air made your body shiver. Satoru clenched his jaw tightly at the scrumptious sight.
It was almost difficult for him to take in all of you at once—your flushed cheeks, swollen lips, erect nipples, and legs spread wantonly for him. Satoru had been here so many times in his dreams, and to see it becoming reality...
"If back then, you had chosen me instead—" he sounded almost heartbroken, which startled you. "I would have treated you right from the start—"
You looked up to him. "You would..."
"Don't you know how many years... I've been just there— watching you and that bastard? Knowing I can do even more than him?"
"Mhm..."
You rose, tugging him closer, before you unclasped his robe, letting it fall to the floor. "Satoru... right now... I'm yours."
He allowed you to undress him and soon he too was out of his stuffy royal attire. Your eyes wandered on each part of his body you touched. His chiseled body, snow-like skin, and then the hardened bulge that sprung out the moment you undid his pants—
The sight of his cock alone only turned you on even more. You gently gripped the glistening head, running a thumb over the tip before gliding your hand towards the base of his length. With a gentle rhythm, your hand moved from base to tip in a slow, teasing motion... before pecking his head.
"Yeah... you're right." His eyes never left yours, admiring you as if you were the most precious gemstone, before catching you off guard. While you rubbed him, he snaked a hand around your waist, pulling you so that you tumbled on top of him.
You moaned loudly as his cock—big, both in length and width—entered you, his hands gripping your thighs to spread them apart so he can shove himself deeper.
You felt so, so full, as you pulled Satoru to you tightly, groaning into his shoulder. And he started to set the pace, moving against you.
"Ahh," you moaned out shakily, fingers clawing into his back. To him, the sounds you made drew him in like a siren's song, it made him throb inside you. "Ahh—hngh!"
"Feel good?" he asked, voice sultry and deep, as he thrusted into you particularly harder, causing you to stifle a moan. "Let it out—hah—sweetheart... I want to hear you, hmm?"
And you did. You felt hot. Your unabashed, nasty sounds with each thrust drove him to the edge. With every lift of your hips, you squeezed him so tightly it almost made his head spin. His breaths came in short pants too.
"You fit me so damn well," he groaned, holding your hips hard enough to leave imprints of his fingers. "So fine..."
One woman. It took just one woman—you—to unravel him like this.
"Satoru, harder—" You commanded, wrapping your arms around his neck even as you trembled. "N-not enough... harder!"
He actually had to swallow, because you and your pussy felt so damn tantalizing. "As you wish, Your Majesty."
He slammed his hips against yours twice—no, thrice the previous speed, and you incoherently squealed. The squelching sound of your hips slamming against each other, and the immense wetness coming out where you two were joined... it was clear: you were addicted.
"Did Naoya ever make you feel as good as I do you now?" he drawled, sinking into you impossibly deeper, squeezing your left mound and flicking your right nipple at the same time. "Did he... ever make you ride him like this?" And then he instantly regretted his words.
Because the moment he said that, you felt cold, reminded of nights in which Zen'in Naoya grabbed you just to forcefully breed you. You winced, and Satoru caught it.
"I..." you shifted your gaze away from him, and he could've sworn that it was sorrow he saw flashing in your pretty eyes. "I-I... don't want to talk about him..."
Feeling remorseful, Satoru reached for the back of your neck and pulled you to him, kissing your lips softly. "I'm sorry—"
"You don't have to—"
"Tonight, I'll make you scream my name so hard you'll forget him," he promised as he pulled away from you, his eyes darkening. "Tonight, give me everything and I'll show you how a man truly loves his woman."
And he followed through. He worshipped you meticulously, treating your body with the reverence one might bestow upon delicate glass. He peppered kisses on every inch of your skin he could reach, lips and tongue trailing down, his relentless thrusts so well-paced and brutal at the same time.
"I'm— close!" You whimpered, and yet still grinding your hips against him. He was watching your every move, every wave of pleasure that was evident on your face— committing it to memory for those moments when he couldn't hold you close.
You gasped—as a mind-blowing orgasm then ripped out of your very being, your hips faltering as you surrendered to ecstasy with a cry of his name, coming all over him. "Satoru... Satoru! Ahhh!"
And Satoru kept his gaze on your face as he too busted inside of you hard, feeling himself filling your womb with his essence, his hands kept your waist steady, memorizing the way your lips part and the way your body went limp into him with satisfaction.
Dear heavens, I love you. The sight of you was nothing but perfection, and with everything he had, he was very sincere when he said—
"You're flawless, sweetheart."
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2 MONTHS LATER
"If you give me a son, I'll throne you as the empress right on that very day."
The Eastern Empire's palace was bustling as the royal consort's screams echoed through the halls. The day Naoya had been eagerly awaiting had arrived—his mistress was delivering his heir.
Yet unbeknownst to him, whispers in the dark suggested the royal baby was arriving suspiciously early. Many, still mourning the previous empress who had been dethroned so abruptly, were not exactly thrilled with this turn of events.
"My lady, just a little bit more!" the maid encouraged. Hanabi strained once again as the pain peaked and her body spasmed, letting out the loudest wail as the baby finally slid out of her.
"W-what... is it?" on the brink of passing out, Hanabi asked anyone who might hear her. She had to know, for she was so close to obtaining her throne—
"It's a girl, my lady!" the midwife announced.
What?
Her world crumbled at that very moment. A girl? A girl can't be the heir!
She wanted to sob, to utterly mourn, and right at this moment she was full of fear, because if Naoya knew—!
Like a curse, he suddenly made his presence known in the birthing chamber. His face scrunched in distaste at the scent of blood filling the air. He took one look at Hanabi, tearful and frazzled after the ordeal, then turned to the midwife, who was trembling at his presence.
"A baby girl, Your Majesty."
In that instant, fury flashed through him. He shot everyone in the room a glare before his eyes settled on his consort, full of spite.
"You useless tramp."
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Your life with Satoru in Western Empire was wonderful.
He was everything Naoya was not. Satoru adored you, prioritized your well-being and happiness, often humored you, and made your days an endless delight.
And dare you say... you had begun to return his affections as well.
How could you not? Everything he did, he did with you in mind. He eased you into your position so seamlessly, and soon you found your place comfortably at court.
"He is mixing pleasure with his kingly duties," Suguru grumbled, watching his best friend order the gardeners to plant more blue roses simply because you mentioned finding them beautiful earlier. "Empress, you have to keep a tight grip on his leash."
"Well, at least he's happy." Shoko shrugged and nudged you. "Can't you see by now? How much of a loser he is for you?"
You did see him—a man who showed you everything he had. He had given you everything you unknowingly needed.
And you just wished... you could return the same for him. It still made you bitter, knowing you might never be able to give him heirs due to your condition.
. . .
"Sweetheart... what's on your mind, hmm?"
You looked up to him as he pressed a kiss on your cheek, an arm securely around you, sweaty and panting after your steamy session.
With his hair down and messy after you yanked him earlier, your lips curved into a genuine smile. "You look hot like this, you know?"
He clicked his tongue. "Hmm, I am, of course. But no use in changing topics, I know you well enough now."
Your bare body was pressed against his chest, fingertips tracing gentle lines on his skin.
"There's a possibility that... I can't give you any children." You almost felt ashamed saying this to him, unable to look at him in the eye. "I-I... I've failed for many years—"
"Hush," he silenced you with a finger to your lips, his expression firm. "No thinking that, yeah? I don't care."
"But—"
"Children are gifts," he said then, caressing your face tenderly. "It's not up to us to control how it'll take or not. And I married you not because I want heirs or such—I love you, you know?"
Your glassy eyes met his, and you willed yourself not to shed a tear.
He grinned cheekily. "Besides, you've felt it yourself—my sexual potency is undeniable. And I don't believe for a second, that you're what that bastard claimed you to be. I bet he's the one who is impotent—"
"Satoru! You're so obscene—!" you giggled freely and poked his chest.
At that time, you were just relieved that he didn't mind. Though it was still weighing in your mind on some days, you felt a newfound sense of liberation compared to when you were still in the Eastern Empire.
But you were in for another plot twist. Perhaps Satoru is correct, and your doubts are unfounded...
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"Ugh..."
Your stomach churned in discomfort, a sickening nausea that seemed to twist your insides and threaten to force its way up. This had happened for days now.
You wanted to find a physician before Satoru was aware of your state. You didn't dare to hope or speculate, because you were tired of it by this point. You just wanted clarity.
Yet, the physician's words left you speechless.
"Your Majesty... it seems that you are with child," he remarked in wonder as he assessed your vein. "Yes, definitely. You are with child."
It was a revelation you hadn't expected. For years, you had been convinced that you were unable to conceive, but now...
You were carrying a new life. Yours and Satoru's.
You felt like bursting with joy as you made your way to his study. Your heart swelled with an overwhelming sense of happiness. Above anything else, you were eager to share this news with him—
...until everything you had known turned on its axis once again.
Right before you went past the ajar door, you saw a glimpse of your husband and his most trusted confidant, overhearing snippets of their conversation:
"Satoru, however you look at it, this is tantamount to declaring war," Suguru sighed, clearly at odds with his perspective. "It's not wise."
"We can finally put an end to them this way," Satoru's tone was steely as he moved a chess piece across the map, positioning it on the border between east and west. "No better time than now."
"The Empress will face the greatest backlash from this. They'll accuse her of being vengeful enough to provoke an attack on her home country—"
"On the contrary, her presence will encourage those still loyal to her to defect. That's why I have her here. We need defectors—"
You let out a choked gasp, backing away from the door in shock. For one good minute, you refused to comprehend what Satoru was implying.
. . .
. . .
Did your new husband... marry you for his own hidden agenda?
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