#and i don't have air conditioning in my room

[newtid]

oouuh mygod

[lamarie-artsy]

It was too hot to draw or write today :( Thankfully tomorrow should be much cooler, but I am not looking forward to Summer.

[machinavocis]

.

[kuiinncedes]

feel mid abt that interview lol :|

[muntitled]

No Promises

Jake Sim x Fem!Reader

Summary: “So hypothetically, what would you do if I told you the condom broke-”

Warnings: Language, Domestic Fluff, Slight Angst, Himbo!Jake, Nerd!Reader, Smut +18 (minors dni) Dom!Jake, Pussy Drunk Jake, He really wants kids, Breeding Kink, Humping, Grinding, Slight Dub/Con, Unprotected Sex, Dub/Con Raw Sex, Perv!Jake, Rough Sex, Forceful Breeding, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Unedited

I'm ovulating

Jaeyun's head is filled to the brim with unsavoury business as he shuffles through the university office.

'It's simple,' Jake says to himself as he cradles the rugby ball under his arm. 'Not. A big deal.'

Once Jake enters the university office, he is immediately bombarded by the smell of old, academic wood. Here, the less crowded, air conditioned space is a nice breakaway from the sweltering rugby field, but all that plagues Jake’s mind are the overwhelming memories of you.

Specifically, you last night, bathed under the sweet honey glow of your cheap salt lamp. His lips on yours as you straddled him on the floor. Skin everywhere.

Jaeyun still remembers his tongue meshing against your own, all he tasted was the ruddiness of white wine.

The pillow forte you were initially building in the living room lay forgotten around you, instead, the space became a lovenest with the moon staring idly from beyond your cream blinds.

"Ride me," Jake breathed out with his mouth attaching itself to the sensitive skin between your neck and shoulder. He drifted your braids out of the way, letting his hand massage your scalp as he craned your neck backwards.

"I need to see you ride me." His voice was hoarse as he manoeuvred you to straddle his hips.

He remembers the texture of the string of beads tied around your waist.

He remembers the air leaving his lungs when you lowered your heat to his cock.

He remembers not being able to stop.

"Did you buy the condoms," you had asked the diabolical question, right when he was about to get it in.

"Fuck the condoms…" he laughed dryly with his thumb skimming across your hips, bumping against the waist beads, "We're both clean. I wanna feel you."

Jake had been wholly disappointed to see your face harden into that pissed off look that was always aimed at the students you tutored.

He'd be scared if he didn't find it hot.

"That's so incredibly unfunny," you pushed at his chest until he released a winded breath, "Don't piss me off, Jaeyun,"

"Fine- fuck- I was kidding,"

He wasn't. And even when he slipped the condom on and slipped inside, Jake became delirious with pleasure of it all.

"Where do you want me to cum?" he had asked.

Naive, unsuspecting you, had replied, “Inside. Y-You're wearing a condom, right? Inside.” Jake fucking lost his mind all the same.

The evening had ended with Jake skimming his hand over the fullness of your ass as he pulled his bottom lip against his teeth.

He watched the softness of your skin mould under his grip as he snickered, "She gon' take it up the ass like a ventriloquist-"

"Do not quote Kanye at me after we just had sex." You groaned.

But Jake wasn't done because now he was thinking about your ass and you'd both gone on for 2 more rounds.

'It's easy,' says present-day-Jake, shaking his hair as if to clear away the thoughts before they took root and really became a problem for him.

His little inner pep talk guides him to the receptionist desk. 'Just tell her the condom snapped and I may have cum a little inside. It's not my fault I'm fucking huge,' but even just the thought of it has Jake warming with anxiety.

"Good morning, Jake!" It's not difficult to plaster on his golden boy smile for the receptionist. Everyone at this University buys the absolute shit he sells, never once questioning their star athletes true intentions behind his disarming smile. He could get away with murder.

"Morning," Jake replied, knocking on the wood of the large mahogany desk. All this mahogany and yet all he could smell was you. Cocoa Butter was an all consuming thing.

"Is she in?" He asks, prompting the receptionist to nod. As Jake walks down the mouth of a corridor leading to the offices of tutors, professors and assistant professors, he keeps his head bowed until he reaches your door.

When you let him into the empty office, all thoughts vanished. Storming in his mind were solutions as to how he might divulge his little slip-up.

"Keep the door open, Jake, I don't do scandals." He was enamoured at the sight of you seated behind the large brown desk with your eyes dark and sleepy. Jake already tried to work out the probability of you remaining calm at the knowledge that the condom he used last night had been breached but looking at you here, he knew there was no possible reality in which you wouldn't try to murder him.

He closes the door despite your words and all you do is look up from your paper and sigh.

Seduction, he decided, was his only defence.

“Is there a reason you're bothering me at work?”

"Didn't know assistant professors got their own offices," he says, dropping the rugby ball in a corner beside a stack of mind-numbing philosophy manifestos.

"We don't," you say, never looking up from your paper, "I don't know how long I'm gonna have this space to myself to mark in peace, that's why we have to be quick-

"Quick," Jake's head snaps up, "I can do quick."

Instead of taking note of your eyeballs rolling to the back of your skull, Jake instead focuses on the expanse of your cleavage spilling out of that diabolically tight v-neck. "The conversation, Jake. What do you want? I have essays to mark." You drop the papers in a huff of unbridled academic frustration, effectively giving Jake the opening he needs to walk towards your desk until he's behind your chair. His hands drift over your shoulders, kneading the tense skin until your head is rolling back, away from the work.

"I thought you'd be happy to see your boyfriend,” he loved referring to himself as ‘boyfriend’, it made him secure in his role. “I have an inter-uni game to catch with the boys but I'm gracing you with my presence instead," your eyes flutter closed as you relax back into the security of Jake's hands.

"You really don't have to talk, babe,"

"But this place is so suffocating," Jake huffs, letting his eyes drift over the dark and dreary room flooded with books, papers, old, depressing paintings of old depressing philosophers. "I can feel myself getting smarter just being here. It's disgusting."

You hum as Jake's thumb drifts under the thin fabric of your v-neck, kneading into the tissue surrounding your shoulder blade. "It's almost like there's more to campus than just the rugby field," your him bleeds into a moan as Jake fingers prod at a particularly sensitive bundle of nerves.

"I had no idea," he says with mock sarcasm. You chuckle lightly as you let Jake's fingers coax you into a much needed break. The peace is a welcome getaway from the tedium that came from fixing grammatical issues and spelling errors.

Jake's left hand continues to knead at your back while his right drifts to the front of your neck. He could've been a chiropractor in his past life, Jake thinks idly as he cups the base of your throat until he's turning your head to match his ministrations.

"Fuck," that tiny sound leaving your mouth does everything to focus Jake's attention down on you. His eyes are hooded as he watches you seated before him and he's all too aware of the fact that this angle allows him to see down your top, into the pillowy expanse of your cleavage.

Jake pushes his hardening cock against the back of your high back chair as he continues to massage your back and neck.

And sure, maybe his hand may drift a little lower down your chest while the other continues to work at your neck.

You almost don't catch him when he says, "So hypothetically what would you do if I told you the condom broke-"

Your eyes snap open and you try to rid yourself of Jake's hands but the hand drifting against your cleavage cages you to the chair. No running.

"What the fuck is wrong with you lately?! Did I not tell you I would rather die than let you inject me with your evil spawn-"

Something dark settles on Jake's face as he stops his ministrations.

There's a moment of disorientation before you realise that Jake spun your chair to face him. One hand on the back of the chair as he leans down, with your faces far too close for it not to be inappropriate.

"Would it really be so bad?" He whispers, before tilting his head to slot his mouth against yours.

Luckily your senses are heightened but still rational as you push him away, effectively standing up to create more distance between you two.

Jake, however, sees your plan and instead of letting you act it out, he slots you in between himself and the desk. Your butt pressing against the edge of the wood so there was no escape.

"No Jake," you say in frustration because now Jake's hands were pawing at your hips like he usually did when he was coaxing you into being as horny as he was. "Getting me pregnant wouldn't just be bad-"

"Perfect," he says, dipping down to place a kiss on your collar bone, "So we agree-"

"It'd be catastrophic. I'd abort it immediately." Jake's hands curl into your hips and you watch under furrowed brows as Jake begins to fiddle with the drawstring of his shorts.

"You're catholic," he says before dipping down to undo the buttons of your jeans. "You're not aborting my baby."

You think your boyfriend is utterly delirious, but even more harrowing is the bit of molten attraction stirring in the bottom of your stomach at seeing him so sure of something. So in charge.

His bare arms are glistening from playing rugby under the sweltering sun and his skin has that honey tint that drove you feral with lust.

You hated the urge that plagued your mind to push your thighs tightly together but Jake immediately stops you. He pushes your jeans down, leaving you standing dumbly with your mouth hanging open as he slots himself between your legs. You try to wriggle yourself away but Jake keeps you locked with his hands framing your sides.

"Last night was hot, yeah?" He huffs with his shorts hanging lazily under the bulge of his Calvin Kleins. He presses himself against you, moaning straight into the crook of your neck.

"J-Jeez, Jake," you whimper, unable to stop yourself from lifting your hips to meet his grinding, "Y-You're disturbing me from work-" speaking was growing very difficult, especially because Jake was unclipping your bra from behind. "Cus all you think about is sex-"

"All I think about is sex with you." He clarifies as wriggles you out of the v-neck.

"I don't think that's a crime-" he says, immediately cupping your breasts in his large hands as he pushes his cock further against you. Jake throws his head back before huffing and puffing while he stares down at you needily humping against him.

"You say you don't want it," he swipes his tongue over his bottom lip as he lifts his shirt, "but you're like a pup in heat, babe,"

"F-Fuck, if we're gonna do this, hurry before anyone comes," the words are like music to his ears and his exposed stomach flexes as he hurriedly pulls down his boxers.

You help him out of his shirt, and both your movements are so heated, so clumsy, you don't think you've ever been this wet.

"Fuck- you gotta be quick, big boy, before someone comes, yeah?" You repeat, knowing your boyfriend became completely unresponsive and pussy drunk during sex. Jake hums in weak response, far too focused on jerking himself off…the head of his cock periodically bumping against your clothed cunt.

"Say you want this dick- c'mon, say it-" he urges with heavy eyelids and all the fight is wiped out of you. You lean back, opening your legs to accommodate him further between you and Jake only groans as he jerks his cock.

"J-Jake, you can't cum in me, yeah-"

"Come on, bro," he groans as he brings his hand in between your legs. “Still?!”

His fingers prod at your clit as your hips stutter to meet his hand. "I'm just tryna get it in, why are you being like this?"

You manage to slip out a scoff in between your moaning.

"Y-You're not 'getting it in' until you divulge what on earth you're thinking about that has you this fucking feral." he was operating on neandthral level need and you needed to know what the cause of it was. You needed to know what had your boyfriend so strung out on your body, on the scent of you, at the sight of you.

You want this Jake all the time.

"You're so pretty," he mumbles, instead, with his gaze locked firmly on your cunt. He swipes your panties aside, unwilling to part with the cute pink material yet and you arch your back, inviting him in.

"If I tell you what I'm thinking about…" he says, lining his cock up with your cunt. Your entire back now pressed supine against the desk, "You'll end up pregnant before the end of the day," Jake concludes his statement by ramming his cock into your cunt, effectively lodging all your complaints in the back of your throat. The desk creaks as he continually rams his cock into you in viscous, rough thrusts.

He's a panting mess, watching your body contort in pleasure as your breasts jiggle with every thrust.

"Oh my fucking g- fuck-" Jake hovers over you, never once slowing his movements even when he tweaks your nipples.

"You're so fucking pretty, you know that? Taking this dick so fucking good-"

You clench around him, loving how vulgar he got whenever you had sex. His hair is already messy but it becomes even more so when you drag your fingers through it, discarding the hair tie that kept his black curls rained to the back.

"Oh my god, baby, you're such a slut-" he lets his words slip and it only turns you on more and more as you drag him down for a sloppy kiss. Your hips rise to meet his thrusts, willing your orgasm to crest.

"B-Baby-” he pants, “Pretty Baby, I need to tell you something-" the second those words left his mouth in sloppy succession, your alarm bells were ringing. Even more so when he dipped his hands between your body until he was rubbing furious circles against your clit.

"J-Just, shh, Jakey, I'm close-"

"The condom broke, last night-"

Your hips still, but his continue to fuck into you- continues to rub at your clit until your body can't help but obey.

"WHA- OH FUCK, JUST LIKE THAT-" your seeing stars when the tip of Jake's cock rams against that particular pillow of nerves. "F-Fuck Jakey."

He was still your Jakey and he took that as a sign to continue fucking into you with reckless abandon.

"Gonna fill you up with my cum, again princess?"

"Jake-"

"Yesterday when you were riding me," he says in harsh staccato. His breath is rough and rugged. "A-And your hips were moving just right and your tits- God those tits." He leans back to watch them jiggle underneath them and Jake's balls squeezes in warning. "I just-" his voice cracks as he whines, "I just needed to flood you with my cum, baby-" your cunt squeezes his cock once more and you're both dangerously close to the edge.

"H-Here-'' he says, bringing your hand up to his throat. "Choke m-me, I think I'm gonna cum." His words alone have your back arching off the desk, slipping into your own orgasm.

“J-Jake-” Somehow you still muster the energy to choke him like he wants and that has his hips stuttering and the praises flying from his lips as he says, "F-Fuck, I'm cumming for you, Angel. You're milking my cock- babe-" his hips ram into yours as his eyes squeeze shut. Jake's caught in the ultimate pleasure as he imagines everything from your tits swelling with milk, to him fucking you while you were pregnant.

"O-Oh my fucking god," the amount of cum leaking out of his cock threatens to push him out of you, and you're both huffing in the quiet office air.

Soon you're both hurtling down to your current reality, but still, Jake keeps his hand on your hips, listening to your heartbeat.

"If you really don't want one - I'll go get you a plan b right now-"

"W-wait," you stop him from leavi⁷ng, "Let's... talk about it later. No promises."

Jake smiles, "No promises.”

[seattlesellie]

ೀ spoiled. ( part one )

📞🕯️🎀 ₊˚⊹♡ “ baby , can you call me back ? i miss you … it’s so lonely in my mansion … “ 🧸🪽🍬

pairing: ellie williams x rich fem!reader

synopsis: the mansion you live in is getting too cold , the silence is way too silent , and not even reruns of sex & the city can help … long story short , you’re feeling lonely . wonder if you can think of someone in your contacts that can help and warm you up , a certain classmate perhaps ?

warnings: girly reader , kind of desperate loser ellie , bratty spoiled rich reader so don't read if that annoys you , allusion to smut , actual smut will be in the second chapter , this is dirty so mdni as usual !

an: i wrote this such a long time ago and it wasn't supposed to be two parts but well now it is !! i will start writing the second part if u guys want to so don't be shy in my inbox. not proofread unfortunately ♡

A perfectly manicured hand rests on the fluffy white and silky smooth duvet. the Egyptian cotton, to be exact, is nothing but lavish, a sanctuary of indulgence in the realm of your own private luxury. Then, you tap your nails atop it, and the fabric crinkles. You gently sigh, but it's more so a grumble, and reach over for the ‘Dunkin’ cup standing on your wooden bedside table. It perfectly matches every single one of the furniture in your extravaganza of a walk in closet, and the bed-frame as well. You take a slow, indulgent sip out of the icy cold drink, take an ice cube out with a straw, and gently suckle on it. You place the drink back on the table, shifting your gaze back over to the flat screen television.

Carrie forgave Mr. Big again, and now she’s seen frantically pacing around the streets of New York City in her shiny Manolo Blahniks. You arch your brows, humming in high pitched amusement. you have the exact same pair!

Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte and Miranda always seem to bring you a sense of comfort. Usually, your bed brings you a sense of comfort as well, and so does an icy drink with specifically eight cubes of ice. Your room smells like French vanilla, a tinge of cinnamon, and the sweetest pie you’ve never learned how to bake. Most of the time, you’d bask in the scent and feel nice, and cosy, and your nose would scrunch and your nostrils would flare out, then you’d open your favorite food delivery app and order a nice ol’ package of nine chocolate chip cookies. Then, you’d pop open a bottle of champagne and indulge yourself in the sweets deliciousness.

But your appetite is less existent than snow in the middle of August.

You’re also freezing cold, fuzzy socks and all — goosebumps rising on your skin and feeling sharp like Japanese knives.

Your best friend of a white home cat, Toodle, elegantly extends his supple frame, his lithe form gracefully ascending to nestle within the cradle of your neck. His bell gently dingles, he yawns and mellifluously meows. Right now, it sounds more like an old mans groan.

“I know, Toots… m’bored too. And cold, Jesus…” you mutter towards Toodles, who, in his usual aloof manner, closes his eyes and surrenders to the soothing hum of his purring. You puff some air out of your mouth, brain wheels turning as to find out what’s the cause of this blue mood. The air conditioning is completely turned off, you’re sure of it, and the fireplace crackles with warmth. Your entire moisturized body is covered up by a ridiculously expensive thick blanket, and it’s not the short VS nightie that makes you feel freezing, you’re convinced of that. For some reason, the frosty sensation persists. You smack your lip-glossed lips before bumping your head against your mountain of pillows, emitting a low grunt of exasperation.

You don’t know the reason for your boredom, or for this bum mood, because albeit you’ve seen this episode about a gazillion times, it never fails to entertain the shit out of your brain.

Maybe it’s due to the fact that you’re entirely alone (except for Toddles, of course, can't forget him) in a 10,000 square feet mansion. or perhaps it’s because the only lit room inside the mansion is your own.

But then you roll your eyes, because your parents are always away (at St. Tropez this time), so feeling alone isn’t a new and strange concept.

Alas, being alone isn’t the same as being lonely.

Your face twists at the depressing thought, ew. You’re not lonely, just… bored, and unamused, and the icy drink isn’t sweet enough and Carrie’s getting on your last nerve, and the 1,000 dollar blanket is starting to itch the hell out of your hyper-sensitive skin.

Which is why you get up from the bed in a moment of eureka, landing your feet against the fuzzy carpet and slide them into your Ugg’s. “Uh huh!” you chirp, you finally got it.

You’re experiencing an old friend of a feeling called (drumroll…) — anxiety, over your unfinished chem project! It must have masked itself in the form of frigidness and discomfort and loneliness.

But the project isn’t even due till next week, and you rarely get stressed over college stuff unless they’re due the next day and you’re sitting, staring down at your laptop screen, trying to communicate with it through telepathy or something of that sort.

Somaybeit’snotanxiety and maybeyou’rejustloney.

You shake away that uneasy and irritating thought, and sit your pretty butt down on the rolling chair. You click your shiny glittery pen (that always sheds some glitter onto your hand) and open up the thick as brick textbook.

You read the first question out loud.

The correct formula for aluminum nitrate is…

Valentino’s Lòco Toile Iconographe shoulder bag in hot pink?

Nope.

You shake your head, you have got to focus. You place your chin atop your palm and click the pen once more.

Al(NO2)3? or maybe it’s Al(NO3)3…

or maybe you’re so far off you need to close the book shut and throw it out of the window. You’ve always sucked at chemistry.

Which is why you were assigned to be tutored by that auburn haired, green eyed, slightly sullen, tatted up girl who went by "Ellie" — or "El", but you didn't know her like that.

Ellie, is the one who stuttered out your name as she realized you weren’t paying attention to her tutoring, as you had your gaze fixated on the black ink etched on her forearm, a half-covered flannel and a canvas of delicate veins. A bug, adorned with intricate botanical details, unfurled its wings across her skin.

“S’uh… A moth, with ferns around it n’stuff. It’s kind of faded now though”

Her voice was raspy and husky, and she stuttered out your name. Usually, you’d hate it when people got nervous around you. It made you feel odd, ostracized, and you always insisted — you were so damn sweet, there’s nothing to be nervous about. You wore sweet perfume, sweet as goddamn cherries and cupcakes, and your voice was soft and you always smiled brightly, and so what if your purse cost more than a college tuition?

But her nerves didn’t annoy you. In fact, you found them charming, and you found her sweet. You found that all of her “Uhhh” ‘s, and her “Mhhm” ‘s, all of her stammering and her lack of ability to keep eye contact with you to be… infatuating.

Then there was that rich voice, and those eyes, that smile, those hands, those damn toned arms, those biceps and the haircut, the way two short strands of hair always framed her face perfectly and her scent — that you could tell was just a cheap cologne, but mixed with her unique fragrance, proved nothing short of intoxicating.

It was also the fact that she seemed to damn know everything — and that she was always ahead of you, and that her face always bore that coy little smirk when you got a question wrong (which you seemed to get more often than not), and that she would grab your Swarovski pen out of your hand and scribble down the answer for you, just to explain it in detail later.

The way she licked over her bottom lip and bit as wrote down.

With her long fingers and all.

When she spoke, her breath smelled of mint and the faintest tinge of weed, which made you think of how lovely it must be to be able to transform into a damn joint just so she could place you in her mouth and suck —

now you’re sticky, and god now you really are distracted, and not by a cute purse or the sound of rain pouring down on your window. Toodles stretches his tiny limbs and you hear his bell faintly dingle again. He climbs down from your princess bed and jumps up to sit at your lap. You caress down his white fur and he purrs.

You wonder if Ellie likes cats.

You know she likes pussy.

You have got to get a grip.

You massage your temples, attempting to focus on the written down questions again, but the words and the numbers seem to mix into a cacophony of odd symbols and letters, and you’re still so goddamn cold.

Albeit your eyelids droop down slowly, eyes spazzing out of focus, the assignment must be done today.

“Just, finish the damn work and go to sleep. Yup.” You mumble to yourself, a habit you picked up as a result of being alone for most of your childhood, and having to opt for the help of imaginary friends to keep you comfort. Alas, you’re older now and only have yourself to talk to.

You try and follow your command.

The problem is, you don’t know jack shit.

You wish Ellie was here, with her hair sticking to her forehead and your pen in her hand and her old chuck’s glued to her feet, as she sits down on the spare chair aside you with her jaw resting on her knees.

You wish you could hear her faint chuckle as you get another question wrong.

As a tutor, of course.

Not even as a friend, because she’s not.

Definitely not as a lover, obviously, because that would truly be so far fetched from reality — although… right now, you can’t help but think of the way her eyes fall down to your chest as a crimson blush creeps up her cheeks.

And you keep thinking about the time you purposely let your bra strap cascade down your shoulder, just because you wondered how she’d react — Which was with averting her gaze to the side and clearing her throat. Now you think of the time you wore an extra short mini skirt, not that different from the rest of them although a bit tinier, and how you kept rubbing your thighs together just to see whether she’d notice or not, which she did…

You groan and slap your palm against your forehead.

Then, you stare at another question and then at your phone. Toodles chimes in with a high-pitched meow.

“Oh my gosh Toots, so true! I should text her the questions, duh”

You’re not delusional at all, by the way.

So you send her your address.

In the meantime, you make sure your studying environment and your room are as tidy as possible. You grab your sparkly pink pen and place it near the textbook, and you grab a matte black pen for Ellie as well, a thoughtful gesture.

You also apply some strawberry scented moisturizer on your body, and spray your sickly sweet perfume on your pule points.

You slip your feet out of your slippers, and you wear your favorite heels. However, you keep your little nightie on. You’re supposed to feel comfortable, this is your house after all, and the heels — are just a courtesy, you are expecting company, and opening the front door with house slippers is entirely rude, and the silky robe… It’s long enough and proper. Ish.

You stare at your reflection down the mirror, and for some reason, you feel utterly nervous. You’re all dolled up for a person who isn’t a stranger, but who also isn’t a friend. When you coat your lips with some minty gloss, Toodles stretches his tail upwards and meows.

“Psh. Do not judge me, Toots. This is normal, I do this all the time”

Which again is a total and complete white lie, because if it was a regular friend coming over, you wouldn’t have even bothered to fix up your makeup, and you’d barely even get up from the comfort of your own bed.

As a matter of fact, not many people come by your house at all. You have your fair share of friends, but you’d much rather hang out by the mall or at one of their mansions, yours always feels just, utterly suffocating — as giant and spacey as it might be. And sure, you’ve had hook ups before, but you always went rigid when they tried to slip past your panties, and you were always… dry, as an autumn leaf.

Ellie makes you feel anything but dry.

Physically — you shake your head and try getting rid of the thought by giving yourself some good old whiplash.

You find yourself pacing around your room, until you manage to cascade downstairs as soon as you hear the bell ring. With each step you take, your heel taps the lavish ceramic pavement.

“Stay”, you gesture towards your fluffy feline companion, who responds with a squinting of his eyes. “Don’t freak out our company”

You look at Ellie’s face from the intercom’s shiny screen. You look at it so hard you nearly forget to press on the button that’s purpose is to let your tutor-guest in. A couple of strands of her auburn bangs stick to her forehead. Ellie scratches her eyes with the back of her hands and she straightens up her spine. As she waits for the gate to open, she puffs some air from her cheeks. She attempts to fix her eyebrows with the tips of her fingers, and seems to be murmuring something underneath her breath.

You’re not the best at lip reading, but your gut tells you she just whispered a “Hi”, and added your name, then — “Hey” adding your name once more.

It’s absolutely impossible for her to not be aware of how stupidly and irritatingly cute she is.

You press on the button and clear your throat. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t practice your greeting in front of a mirror as well. Your robe cascades down your shoulder, you fixate on it and contemplate pulling up the fabric.

Toodles meows once more.

Yup. You should keep it down.

It takes Ellie a good five minutes to walk the full distance from the front gate to your huge white door.

Then she knocks three times on the wood, and you squeak like a mouse although you really were fully prepared.

Your tutor wears a blue flannel with a white undershirt tucked beneath. The first button is opened, revealing a tiny piece of her pale skin. Below, her legs are covered with tight skinny jeans with a tear on the knee (you’re not sure if she fell or if it’s done purposely so), and to your surprise — no Chuck’s, but Doc Martens.

Noted. She has more than one pair of shoes.

When you greet Ellie with a cheerful — yet ever so relieved and breathy “Hi”, you kiss her on the cheek like you do all of your friends, and you can smell that cheap cologne again.

Amber, citrus, musk, lavender.

There’s a hint of actual Ellie in the mix as well — smoke, herbs, sweat… did she run here?

When you hug Ellie you focus on her scent.

When you hug Ellie she focuses on absofuckinglutely nothing — Her body goes rigid and stiff and she doesn’t hug you back until two way too long seconds pass, and she finally manages to place her hand on your waist.

But she doesn’t hug or squeeze, she rests it there.

Then she coughs.

“Hey”

You take a step back and you can tell she’s a bit flushed, or flustered — but you take it as her just running. You lean your hand against one of the thick pillars. Her orbs travel frantically from your eyes down to your… legs, that are completely bare and smooth and shiny, then they run down to your feet, which are covered with heels…

You think she might say something about it, about you, how ridiculous you look, so you’re washed up with self consciousness and shyness which is something you rarely get to feel, unless you’re with that damn girl for some reason.

Then her eyes hyper-focus on… the ceiling?

You grant Ellie a half smile and you really yearn to break the silence — but she’s ahead of you. Again.

“It’s… you have a really high ceiling” she says, then immediately glues her eyes on to the floor.

“Uh, shiny floor…” she chuckles so freaking awkwardly, grazing the bottom of her left legs doc’s on the floor so it squeaks. Immediately, Ellie apologizes.

“Shit, sorry, my shoes fuckin’ muddy. I uh, ran here”

You gingerly smile and furrow your brows. You theory has been proven correct. “You ran?”

“Walked, like, not ran ran”

There’s the tiniest droplet of sweat on Ellie’s forehead, which she wipe’s swiftly and clumsily with the back of her hand when she notices your eyes scan it. Oh, she ran ran alright. You do feel a little bad, picturing Ellie’s shoes hitting below her ass as she runs through the streets of your city, with a packed and awfully heavy mauve backpack — smacking against her back with every step she takes. You almost pout, you’re still leaning against the pillar and you smack your lips together — gloss and all, out of habit.

“Could’a given you a ride, y’know” you light sweetly. Ellie’s scarred eyebrow arches up in response. “You have a license?”

You so want to shove her shoulder playfully, but you’re convinced it’ll make her go absolutely rigid again. Physical contact bricks her up — noted.

“Why is that such a surprise?” you flash her a teasing smile. She smiles back at you.

“S’just, thought you’d have a personal driver. Can’t really imagine you driving that monster of a Rover back there —“

You nod in complete amusement. “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Ellie teases, followed by a throaty chuckle. “Plus, took you more of a passenger princess type of girl”

And that sentence shouldn’t make you stutter the way you do next. It shouldn’t, but it does. You back away slowly and Ellie follows your footsteps.

“T-that’s, awfully presumptuous” you chirp. Her boots stomp on the floor and your heels click clack. “Plus, I don’t drive that Rover. My car’s in the garage with the rest of ‘em” you say matter-of-factly.

Ellie scoffs impishly behind you. You walk up the stairs and she follows suit. She’s confident when she teases, you think, which is a tad different than her usual awkward self, but if only you knew she nearly slipped down one of the steps as she noticed the tiniest, delicious, most precious piece of your flesh that was just exposed behind you as a result of your incredibly short nightie.

“Psh, so presumptuous”

As you walk towards your room, Ellie walks behind you although she has more than enough space to walk besides you. You get the feeling that she's nervous, even after her teasing and all, and you don't have to wonder why too much. Your house is huge, intimidating, filled with strange sculptures and paintings by obscure artists regular people have never even heard of. You don't have just one living room, you have three, and in each and every one of them stands a different technology piece of some sort. Also, your heels cost more than her outfit, could be more worth than the entirety of her damn closet, and most importantly — you're walking with a pink robe and some heels on.

When you reach your room, Ellie awkwardly smiles and straightens her muscular back. Then, she holds on to the straps of her backpack.

"First of all" you sigh, and now it's your turn to feel coy. "Thank you for coming over so late. I know it's like, absolutely ridiculous, and you know, you don't get paid for this so...", you flash Ellie an endearing smile, the apples of your cheeks rising sweetly as a humble thank you. "And, second of all... jus'... brace yourself?"

Ellie's brows arch up, but before she has time to ask — oh.

You both step into your lit room. Toodles follows by closely, entering the room as well, whilst rubbing his furry back against Ellie's calves.

"Yup..."

Ellie's fingers instinctively clasp onto the straps of her backpack once more, her eyes widening ever so slightly, but she fights to seem as unsurprised as she can — she fails miserably, because she gasps a little.

Your room is nothing but a... cotton candy dream world. A wall that's painted in pretty dusty pink, a princess bed that's nothing but a regal centerpiece. Above the bed, a canopy of gossamer silk drapes from a custom-crafted wrought iron frame, And the final sophisticated touch, a grand crystal chandelier, suspended from the ceiling. There are also clothes everywhere, empty water bottles, used sheet masks, a stack of books — some half-read, others forgotten, teetered precariously on a random corner. Ellie sticks out like a sore thumb. She stands out like a neon sign in a library, a skateboard at a black-tie gala.

You like it.

She clears her throat, stepping further into your room. "I take it black is your favorite color?" she titters sarcastically.

You giggle.

"Mhm, also I'm clearly very organized, and I hate clothes" you murmur and point out the pile of dresses haphazardly bunched in the corner of your room.

She should feel out of place. She should probably laugh, even sneak a pic — tell all her "cool" friends about how mindblowingly ridiculous the prissy rich girls room is. Instead, she thinks about how cute you must look cuddled up in a bed this big, how adorable it'd be to see your bed-head poking through the sheets at 8am, how sweet it must be to watch you skip around your room, trying on your shitload of clothes, throwing them in the air and huffing like a medieval brat of a princess. She wants to place a fucking tiara on your head. She sees your sticker collection from the corner of her eye, your vinyls, your candles, your crystals and Toodles' sofa.

And she likes it.

You take a deep breath. You shouldn't even care if she likes it or not, you shouldn't be bothered by it at all — you rarely are, but something inside of you yearns for... something.

"It suits you" she murmurs.

And that's certainly good enough, because it does.

You gesture Ellie to sit on the rolling chair next to yours, and her eyes still roam over the space of your room. “My room looks exactly the same, by the way… same uh, size too… n’stuffed animals… Shit, I like the elephant one”, she sarcastically remarks as she sits on the chair and hunches down, manspreading as she often does. Your eyes can’t help but roam down, because her damn thighs flexed under those jorts and you heard her, but you also kind of didn’t.

Ellie clears her throat and narrows her eyes. Jheez, she thinks, you must be absolutely exhausted since your eyes don’t seem to be able to focus.

“Huh?” you say, startled. You’re still standing up on those heels. Ellie sniffles and chuckles and her voice goes all quiet.

“Said pink nauseates me, that I hate those stuffed animals and that your elephant doll’s ugly as shit”

You roll your eyes and your tongue swipes over your glossy bottom lip. You bite it and you sit down on the chair. Ellie’s eyes scan over your chest and she averts her gaze like a deer caught in headlights.

“Hate you, chem tutor” you huff, resting your head on the palm of your hand. Ellie doesn’t maintain a second of eye contact but she chuckles and it’s cocky.

“You need me, and you need an A in chemistry”

You like that side of her.

You let your eyes blink lazily at her, a cheeky little smirk forming on your lips. When you open your mouth again, just to smack it on your glossy lips, you brush your leg ‘accidentally’ against hers, and rigid she goes. “Mhm, I definitely need you, Ellie…”

The apples of Ellie’s cheek shine in bright crimson and her hand flexes. She grabs her pen and clicks on it once. You didn’t mean it like that, she so obviously knows or believes, but it matters nonetheless. You like that side of her so much more.

You cross your pretty legs and let the tip of your heel graze her chair. “So, you want a drink before we start studying?”, you’re way too damn close, she nods — but she doesn’t need a ‘drink’ she needs a damn water fountain that directly flows onto her mouth and satisfies that damn drench. Is it possible for her damn knee to feel hot? Why is her knee feeling hot?

“Anything specific?”

“Jus’ waters fine” Ellie manages to murmur, lips forming a teeny tiny, shy, crescent smile.

“I was thinking more… like, wine? I have a wine cooler n’my room… if you wanted water i’d have to like, go downstairs and… It’s so lonely in there” your voice is saccharine, delicate, and it and coaxes Ellie’s mind.

“Wine’s perfect, I love wine” says Ellie.

She hates wine.

“Mhm, red or white?” — Your question comes when you lift your butt off the chair and walk slowly towards the cooler.

“Uh, r-red. S’much… richer” Ellie falters, remembering vaguely the time Joel had mentioned white wine’s for pussies. When she tried a red one, she gagged.

“Impressive” you note.

Ellie rolls the chair with the help of her heavy Doc's, and watches as you pour the red liquid into two delicate glasses. Your leg, she notices, is clad with a shiny, delicate golden piece of jewelry. Her eyes scan upwards, towards your bare thighs — the flesh is glistening, almost appearing as if it's covered with oil. Her mind drifts elsewhere, to a world in which your nightie is nothing but nonexistent, and those thighs...

Her stomach grumbles, she firmly holds onto it. Why NOW.

"Hungry?" you place the glass on the table, slightly nudging it towards Ellie.

She's starving.

you flash her a devilish smirk, cocking your head to the side.

"Oh, uhh... nope"

Famished.

[enderlovez]

No Germs Found

Spencer Reid x Female BAU Reader WORD COUNT: 1000+

Summary: You and the team are back in Arizona on another case, and when an amazing unfortunate mishap takes place at the front desk, everyone is forced to share rooms with each other.

Content Warning: non-sexual nudity, strong language in reference to the temperature, blushy Spence, mentions of heat stroke, pain from the heat, mentions of murder, slightly NSFW at the end, Spencer likes boobs- I MEAN WHO SAID THAT?

A/N This is kind of a continuation of another one of my works called Germs, but they don't necessarily need to be read side by side. There's only one mention of something that happened in the first part, and it's not really that important to the story, so...

────── ꒰ঌ·✦·໒꒱ ──────

None of you really anticipated being on another case so soon, at least not in the same place you'd just gotten home from a few days before, and the place you all seemed to... strongly dislike.

Maybe 'dislike' isn't the right word, but one thing is for sure — the moment you step foot off the jet, you feel like you're covered from head to toe in sweat, and your throat dried up like a fish in a desert.

Not to mention how you' were all stuck in a stuffy room all day, with crappy air conditioning that did absolutely nothing for anyone. So far you had practically nothing on the unsub, they were slippery as soap, and that stress — the stress of not knowing who they are, who they are going to kill next — has you in a very grumpy mood.

And despite the inconveniences, the day still somehow finds a way to get worse.

That much is clear as Hotch strolls up to our group of people with an annoyed look on his face — granted he almost always looks like that when we're having a hard time finding anything on the unsub.

"There was a malfunction in their system, and they overbooked their rooms," he says simply, only earning a choir of groans from us, "so we're going to have to double up tonight."

You throw your head back, a heavy sigh escaping your mouth. It's been a long day, and all you want is to lay around without your clothes on and go to sleep — but you can't exactly do that with someone else in there with you.

"You're free to pick your roommate yourself, but please, for the love of God, keep it professional," he finishes as he drops a small pile of numbered keys onto the little table in the reception.

Everyone immediately splits off into pairs, while you make no move to do anything, laying back on the armchair with your neck bent over the top, eyes closed against the white fluorescent lights.

"You know, frequent hyperextension of the neck can have negative effects on its structure and function," a familiar voice says from above you. "Around fifteen to twenty-five percent of North Americans experience lasting effects, such as chronic pain and nerve issues."

You peel your eyes open to find none other than the brilliant Spencer Reid standing over your head, dangling a key over your face, and just like that, all your apprehension melts away.

"Stop flirting with me, Spencer, it's incredibly unprofessional," you joke lightheartedly, a vibrant smile overtaking your face as you pluck the key from his fingers.

He doesn't seem to realize you're joking, though, because he immediately goes to defend himself, stuttering adorably and blushing firetruck red. "No, um, I wasn't — I would never flirt with you!" he tries to defend himself, only realizing a second later how it might've come off. "I-I mean I would, but that's not what I was trying to do."

You shake your head and laugh, standing from the armchair and threading your arm through his so you can lead him down the hallway towards the room you both would be staying in.

The room that was, technically, booked for only one person.

The room that only has one bed.

It's not like you don't want to share a bed with him, you're more worried that he might not want it, with his whole 'germ' thing. Not that he really seemed to care about that the other day, when he drank straight from your water bottle without a care in the world, then proceeded to ask you out on a date.

"I can sleep on the floor, if you'd like," he offers quietly as he shuts the door behind him.

You immediately dismiss that idea, shaking your head before the words are even fully out of his mouth. "You're not sleeping on the floor, Spencer, that's not fair," you say quickly, a sly smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. "That is, as long as you're alright with me sleeping in my underwear, because I will be doing that."

Of course you're half-joking — if there's any indication that he's uncomfortable with that idea you'll just sleep in a t-shirt and shorts, it's just that you'd much rather not in this heat.

"N-no, no," he says, his voice pitched just a little too high. He's blushing from head to toe, you know that without even looking at him. "You can s-sleep in whatever you want to, I don't mind."

It's entirely unprofessional, you know that, but you really can't help it as you instantly begin tearing your sweat-drenched clothes from your body, tossing them around haphazardly until you're left in only your bra and underwear. You don't waste another second, flopping onto the bed, briefly stretching your limbs out, then rolling to one side.

It's a relief to be out of those clothes...

Only now do you realize that Spencer has not moved an inch from were he was standing when you initially asked the question, face bright red, breathing uneven as he tries desperately to keep his eyes from dipping from your face.

"Come on, I don't bite," you say quietly, patting the empty space on the other side of the bed, meanly deciding it would be funny to tease him, "not unless you ask very nicely."

Nervously, he drops his stuff beside the door and makes his way towards the bed, siting on the edge of his side. You're sure you can see him sneaking glances down at your chest every now and then, when he thinks you're not paying attention.

Who is he kidding? You're always paying attention to him, clinging onto every word he says like you'll die if you forget a single one.

"Come on, Spencer," you urge, "you've literally shared spit with me, don't get all shy now."

You're phrasing it that way as a joke, and you're sure he knows that.

But the next words that come out of his mouth leave you stunned, mouth dropped open and butterflies stampeding through your stomach, heart beating a million miles an hour.

You're not expecting something like this to come out of his mouth, really, but after his strange confidence the other day in drinking all your water and asking you out, you're not sure what to expect now.

"Can you please bite me, then?"

[dawneternal]

now my head's splitting at the seams

✴︎ in the labyrinth of my pain, would you find me?

✴︎ Azriel x Valkyrie reader, platonic Cassian x reader

✴︎ Summary: you miss a few days of training, down with a bad migraine. It turns out Cassian has a few misconceptions about your condition and, possibly, about pain itself.

✴︎ Warnings: mentions of nausea and vomiting (no descriptions), pain, toxic positivity and ableism, internalized ableism, Cassian's a jerk in the first half. Also I'm so sorry for the tense changing back and forth 💀 I would definitely not call this one a masterpiece

✴︎ Word Count: 3.4k

AO3 Link / Writing Masterlist

✴︎ Notes: somehow writing out my feelings about having a migraine turned into something pretentious about pain and ableism. I think a lot about John Green's "pain is the opposite of language" and how much that's changed my perception of pain

Also listen I love Cassian and I have no problems with him but I had to pick someone to take my feelings out on I'm sorry 💛 also just want to acknowledge that everyone experiences migraines differently and it's not a topic I'm an expert on so I'm sorry if you don't feel well represented by this.

Tbh I could write several essays about the way pain and disability are handled in the acotar books but that's for another time.

Letting out a frustrated groan, you squeeze your eyes shut tighter and twist your knuckle into the pressure point at the base of your palm, chasing the momentary relief it'll give you from your nausea. It works for a minute, and you're considering making your way to the bathroom before another wave hits you when your bedroom door flies open.

"You're late," Cassian's voice bellows through the room and he doesn't see you wince. He strides into the room, footsteps booming across the floorboards, and he's left the door open behind him, letting a traitorous amount of light into your dark room. What good were black out curtains if your darkness was going to be invaded like this anyways?

"Oh my gods you've got to talk quieter," You curl tighter around yourself, head clutched in your hands.

"So you're hungover?" He stops near your bed, arms crossed as he towers over you.

"No, I have a migraine."

"Isn't that the same thing?"

You squint up at him, scowling, swallowing every bad word threatening to spill off your tongue. Though maybe he deserves it for coming into your room without asking.

"Please leave," You say quietly, all the venom you could usually imbue into your voice completely swallowed by your current condition.

"You've missed three days of training." He says by way of answering, definitely not following your request to lower his volume. "You can't coddle yourself like this."

His words punch the air from your lungs. Coddle? Something terrible is rising in your gut, along with the desperate thought that you can't deal with this right now.

"I'm not - this isn't - I don't think you understand how much it hurts." You scramble for words, cheeks heated from pain and anger.

"You've gotta push through it," He says, no hint of sympathy.

"Cassian please."

"I'm not leaving until you agree to come with me."

You don't have time to respond before you're running to the bathroom and throwing up whatever you'd managed to keep down last night, head throbbing with every movement.

Breathing hard, you lean back from the toilet and clutch your head in your hands. The silence rings in your ears and you aren't sure if Cassian is still there or if he finally took mercy on you and left, until his voice makes it's way to you, with just a hint of remorse in it -

"I'd better see you up there."

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

Cassian did not see you at training that morning, and you're assuming you've bruised his ego because the next day he doubles down.

The thing is, Rhysand knew of your condition. The other priestesses knew. It's only Cassian being out of the loop and if he understood what a migraine felt like, you're certain he wouldn't be dragging you up there. You were used to dealing with people who didn't understand, had worked hard to learn how to give yourself kindness no matter what other people said. But it's like he knew exactly what things to say, what buttons to press to undo all of that progress.

It was like he'd pulled off your armor, piece by piece, leaving you cold and exposed. Going back to that world where weakness was your given name and it hurt worse than stepping into the ring and fighting the pain. If you could prove him wrong, just make it through a couple of hours, you could return to your sanctuary of darkness. And at least then, you wouldn't hate yourself on top of everything else.

So you followed him up to the training ring, struggling to open your eyes all the way in the morning light, hunched over to make the pain down your shoulders and neck just a bit more bearable. You sway on your feet, but Cassian either doesn't notice or doesn't care.

When he moves aside, revealing your small, huddled frame trailing beside him, Gwyn gasps.

"Cassian!" She cries, her tone scathing, and the hint of smug triumph slips from his face. It disappears completely as Gwyn rushes to your side, folding you into her arms to block your eyes from the light. You groan into her shoulder and go limp in her arms, grateful for the support.

Azriel stands to the side, watching with narrowed eyes. His arms are crossed over his chest like Cassian's, but there is no determination or judgment in his posture or expression. There's angry, crackling flames as he watches the redheaded Valkyrie thread her fingers through your hair and murmur soft comfort.

"She missed training all this week," Cassian says, but he's not barking any more. He's feeling a little bit small underneath the glares that pin him where he stands.

"Yeah, we know," Gwyn says, and it's the closest she's gotten to snapping at him in the whole time they've known each other. She turns to you and her eyes soften. "Let's get you back to bed, love."

"No," You murmur, guilt and shame bringing your resolve to the surface once more. You gently push her away to stand on your own, raising your squinted eyes to meet Cassian's. "I can do it. I'll be fine."

She watches you take shaky steps to the nearest mat and begin stretching, body obviously stiff from a few days in bed. You're conscious of all the eyes on you, far too sympathetic for your liking. This is exactly what you hated.

"Are we starting or not?" You let out a stiff laugh, too aware that your words are lightly slurred. That is absolutely not helping the hangover accusations.

The other priestesses shuffle to get into place, bumping into each other as they move to find their positions. There was still a horrible silence, crackling with fierce anger, all rippling in Cassian's direction. He halfheartedly called a few orders, visibly uncomfortable with the energy in the ring.

And you tried. You tried hard. To move your body through the stretches like normal. But your muscles protested every move, threatening to lock back up, sending stabs of pain through your skull. It didn't take long for the nausea to take over, forcing you to the edge of the ring, doubled over and dry heaving.

"This is ridiculous," Gwyn scoffs before she's at your side again. "You're going to back to bed."

"I will not be weak," You growl at her, panting as you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, "I am not lazy."

Gwyn's head snaps around to find Cassian, mouth dropped open in fury as she silently dares him to confirm that he may have suggested weakness to you.

"You're not and you know it," She says softly, hauling you up and leading you away from the training ring. “Don't do that to yourself.”

Cassian is feeling like he's surrounded by wolves, all the glares that are being sent his way. He understands by now that he's messed up, and in front of a group that may not be easily inclined to forgive him. He's sure every single one of them has experienced the disbelief that he foolishly shoved your way. For their pain, or for anything else.

He thought you would snap back to your normal self after a bit of warming up, shake off your symptoms with a bit of movement and sunshine. You were strong enough to, if you wanted to. He'd seen it before. He thought you just didn't want to.

A small, firm hand lands on his arm and he finds himself looking down at Nesta. There's sympathy in her expression, but her eyes twinkle with the threat of a nasty bite if he dares to say anything stupid.

"She gets them after particularly bad flashbacks," Nesta says, "Or sometimes they're just random. Madja says there's no fix for the pain but darkness and sleep."

Cassian's stomach twists so terribly he thinks he might puke, too. In the midst of attempting to instill resilience, he's understanding that he knows nothing of this kind of pain. This is something different, something that cannot be conquered in the same way as emotional pain, as every day aches and injuries. You are a soldier in a battle he has no strategy for.

He may understand the concept of emotional resilience, of getting back up and into the training ring when you don't want to. But this is different.

The final blow, the thing that makes him want to cower and hide, is meeting his brother's eyes. Seeing the fire there transports him back in time, sending flashes of a smaller Azriel pushing himself too hard, determined to show the world that he'd never be less because of the damage to his hands. Fighting against words far too similar to the ones his own brother had spouted to you this morning, desperate to become strong enough that no one would ever doubt his pain and live.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

It was not a surprise that Cassian found himself in Rhysand's office later, confessing how thoroughly he'd fucked up, desperate for a little direction in how to fix this mess.

"It has to be their choice," Rhysand is saying, eyes meeting Cassian's over his glass.

Cassian's mouth opens and closes as he tries to conjure a response. He knows that. Of course he knows that. But apparently, his brain had not wrapped around how far that concept might go.

Cassian let out a grunt as he sat back in his chair, arms crossed. Rhysand knew he didn't have to push any further, he recognized the conflict in his brother's eyes. So he sat with him, quiet, while he processed.

"Do you want to know what it feels like?" He broke the since after a while, as the idea came to him.

"What?" Cassian blinked, startled from his thoughts.

"A migraine," Rhys explained, "Do you want to know what it feels like?"

Cassian frowned, studying his brother's expression for anything resembling amusement, but there was none. So he nods.

Not even a full second later, his skull is attacked with throbbing pain, deep in the base of his neck. He hadn't even noticed the fae lights before, but now they overwhelm him, causing a dull pain to surface behind his eyes. Nausea curled up his throat, threatening ruthlessly.

"Oh gods," He leaned forward and clutched his head in his hands, finding that his limbs trembled under his own weight.

"Do you push yourself when you feel like this?" Rhysand asked softly, not taunting. Prompting.

"I don't really ever feel like this," Cassian grumbled out.

"Hm," Rhysand mused, his brows drawing together. He'd experienced episodes like these often, under the mountain. He knew that Azriel struggled with them through his teenage years, like his brain still struggled to process his senses outside of a dark cell.

Deep in thought, he only remembered to ease up on Cassian's mind when his brother whimpered.

"Some say pain cannot truly be described with language," Rhys says, gaze somewhere else as Cassian gulps down air. "And that your pain is one of the few things that is truly yours, that you can never share. Even if you manage to describe it, it will never be felt by anyone else."

"I thought she was just hungover," Cassian says, but he's not defending himself. Rhysand knows.

"What if she was, though?" He tilts his head to the side, watching his brother carefully.

And that is the thing that had begun to unfurl within Cassian as he stood surrounded by the priestesses he'd wronged. He understood that having true control of your body meant that dictating how pain is handled had to be yours, too. He understood that pushing someone to deal with pain in his own way was a violation in and of itself. He had stepped into the world that you had carefully balanced and re-built around your condition and dared to tell you that you may have done it wrong.

"Will she get better?" He asks, thinking of the agony he'd just experienced for a few short minutes. The same one that you'd been experiencing for three days, now.

"It's hard to say," Rhysand shrugs, "Madja says she will likely experience these off and on for the rest of her life, but she may have some periods of remission."

He tilts his head at his brother again, "You know that a majority of the priestesses have an invisible disability of similar kinds, right? They won't get better. They will be in pain every day until they die."

Rhysand sighs, thinking of the hundreds - possibly thousands - of tins of salve that Azriel has gone through, numbing the pain of his nerve damage. Trembling hands hidden in black gloves, tucked into his body and away from the world. And that is the reason he's bothering telling Cassian of any of this. Otherwise, he might let him figure it out on his own.

"But the healers-" Cassian begins.

"Are there to help them cope with their emotional pain and trauma," Rhysand nods, "But some of them, a lot of them, were disabled as a result of what they went through and will never get better. Like Clotho.”

Oh.

It clicks in Cassian's mind, then. Who else Rhys meant. Who else Cassian had insulted. He had never barged into Azriel's room, insisting that he still train even when he could not flex his fingers without wincing, without trembling too hard to hold a glass of water. But he'd done it to you, in front of him. And that pinned his disbelief on Azriel all the same.

Azriel's pain, your pain, were enemies that neither of you could defeat. And here he was, shoving a sword into your hands, and insisting that you try.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

A soft knock sounds against your door, so quiet you almost don't hear it. You stare at it, wondering if you should pretend that you didn't. But then the knob turns slowly and it opens just a crack, and a soft voice is saying into the darkness,

"Hey, it's Azriel. Can I come in?"

Your breath catches in your throat, and you watch his shadows dancing back and forth through the thin wedge of light he's letting in.

"Sure," You say, moving quickly to smooth your rumpled clothes and tangled hair before he steps in. You're not exactly sure what he thinks of you after this morning.

He steps inside and closes the door behind him. His eyes seem to glow in the darkness, an amber-honey color, and somehow you can still see his shadows, like they're even darker than your room with no light.

"I just wanted to check on you," He says, crouching down beside your bed so you don't have to sit up.

"I'm okay," You say, still getting over the surprise of the Shadowsinger in your space. It's true, though, you suppose. You're used to all of your other symptoms by now, and your heart hurts worse than your head.

"He's an idiot sometimes," Azriel says, basically spits. A smile begins to spread on your face so he continues, “Like, sometimes he's just an asshole, straight up. But this time, believe it or not, I think he actually meant well and was just an idiot.”

“I know,” You give him a sad smile and all of the anger melts from his face.

“I think he went to buy flowers if that makes you feel any better,” He sighs. You know he's just as mad at Cassian as you are, maybe even more mad. But he still can't help vouching for him. It's definitely going to take more than flowers to forgive him, but it's a good start. You also appreciate that Azriel has bothered to warn you ahead of time, in case you wanted to avoid Cassian's apology.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, so quietly. And you wonder who else has earned this tenderness from him.

“It's not too bad right now,” you say truthfully, though you know that sitting up or going outside might be pushing your luck.

“Still hurts?”

“Yeah. Still hurts.”

He nods. “I can try something that helps me, sometimes.”

You search his eyes for a moment, then nod.

“Can I touch your face?” He asks, almost a whisper.

Your heart leaps into your throat and you fight to keep your face neutral as you nod again, no idea what he's planning to do with you.

Slowly, leaving enough time for you to stop him, he reaches out. He's not wearing gloves, like usual, and in the dark you can just barely make out the uneven silhouette of his dimpled, scarred hands.

His fingers land gently on your forehead, and he presses his thumb between your brows. Gently at first, and then harder, circling a tender point under your skin. It makes the pain in your head sharper, and you let out a hiss.

“I know,” He says, “Bear with me a minute.”

You close your eyes, biting back a whimper, but after a moment the pain begins to ease. He keeps going for a few minutes and you feel your whole body relax, pain free for the first time in days.

You don't realize how much you've leaned into his touch until he gently pulls away and you find your head falling forward with him.

“What is that?” You open your eyes and blink at him.

“A pressure point,” He grins, and it almost looks like he's blushing.

“That's magical,” you say. You hesitate for a moment, and then, “you can sit on the bed if you want.”

Azriel smiles and straightens, and you move your pillow to the side to make space for him. He slides off his boots and sits on the bed next to you, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. You place your pillow next to his lap and settle back into it.

“Thank you,” You say, your body feeling lighter than it has in days.

“Of course,” he says.

A silence settles, but it's not uncomfortable. There's something in it that you understand. He's just keeping you company. Here to sit with you in your pain.

It's easy to relax in his presence, between his calm aura and the pain relief he's offered you. And you find yourself spilling the question that's been circling though your mind since this morning.

“What if I can't fight, someday? What if I can't be a Valkyrie anymore?”

Azriel stills beside you. It's a long moment before he says anything. You're tense beside him, and it makes you flinch when he brings his hand so gently to rest on your head. Not moving, just resting.

“First,” He says, in the same soft voice, “You'll always be a Valkyrie. Because you cut the ribbon. Because you sisters will never let you go. And because I know for a fact that the Valkyries did not strip their warriors of their title if they became disabled by an illness or an injury.”

“Really?” You breathe.

“Mhm,” He hums in affirmation. You forget sometimes that he knows the Valkyries from more than history books.

“And second,” His voice drops lower, like he's sharing a secret with you. His hand moves, fingers slipping gingerly through your hair. And it makes you realize that he came here with his hands uncovered as an offer of solidarity. Combing his scarred fingers through your hair, he is offering you vulnerability, like recompense for what you bared this morning. A trade. A truce.

“If you cannot fight,” He continues, “Then you will show the world that a formidable woman can be made from more than fighting skills. You will still be - will always be - something incredible.”

Tears prickle at your eyes, form a lump in your throat. You reach up to grasp his hand, the only thank you that you can manage in the moment, and he lets you.

There's another silence, as he holds your hand in the dark.

“Who helps you?” You ask, turning to look up at him. He watches your eyebrows knit together, so serious, and he swallows a smile.

“What do you mean?” He says.

You bring one finger up to tap the space between his own eyebrows.

“With your pain? Who helps you like you helped me?”

“Um,” He shrugs, “Sometimes Rhys if he has time. Otherwise, no one.”

That's what you thought, but it still makes your heart twist in your chest. It takes a deep breath before you have the courage to say the next words out loud.

“You should tell me next time you're in pain. And I'll help.”

Azriel stares back at you, something bewildered in his eyes. Because he sees your suggestion for what it is. The same thing he offered you. A trade. A truce.

A beginning.

“Yes,” He whispers into the dark, and his hand closes around yours. “I will.”

[kerri-the-skunk]

Oh god my room's like 20 degrees hotter than the rest of my house jesus christ

[evie-sturns]

calm - Matt Sturniolo

summary: after a terrible day of arguing with your boyfriend, accidentally breaking your favorite perfume, and now your hair and outfit not going to plan, all your emotions hit you at once and matt has to calm you down.

contains: fluff, crying, arguing, comforting!matt.

----------------------------------------------------------

10:38am

i huff angrily as i tug up my knotty hair into a ponytail, my arms burn while i attempt to tie the elastic around my thick hair. suddenly the elastic snaps, pinging my hand almost in a mocking way.

"oh for fucks sake!" i whine, throwing my fact into my hands as i reach for the hair gel.

i plop more on the top of my head, my hands now sticky and my whole body sweating. i finally get my hair up into a ponytail, but it looks like total shit.

i sigh before stomping out of the bathroom into matt and i's shared room, i swing open the door and ignore matt as i reach for the closet.

matt and i have argued a record amount of times today, it's almost impressive.

flashback:

it was 6 in the morning, and i rolled over onto matt accidentally.

he shoots up in bed as i lay my body weight on his arm, "ow! ow get the fuck off!" he says in a pissy mood, i drift awake slowly as matt shoves me off him.

"matt come on." i groan, grabbing my shoulder from where he just shoved me off of him. "dont say come on like you didn't just break my fucking arm and wake me up at 6am in one sweep."

"i'm not that heavy matt, don't be stupid." i scoff, rolling over in bed to the edge of the mattress, a good meter away from him.

"yes you are, your fully body weight was on my arm." he says with an attitude,

"so you're calling me fat?" i ask angrily,

"dude, just go get out of here." matt demands, pointing towards the door, the nickname stinging a little bit.

"its my room matt, i'll stay right here, not my fault your acting like a child." i raise my voice, slamming my body down onto the mattress and tugging the covers up over me, my back facing matt.

i wasn't expecting matt to leave, but he did. he shot up out of bed and grabbed his pillow, he walked swiftly out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him

and i think that set the mood for the whole day, because now 4 hours have passed and we’ve argued about matt being lazy, me leaving out dishes, him ignoring me, and me apparently being a brat.

-

i sort through our closet, tugging out a small skirt and one of matt's shirt.

"did i say you could borrow that?" matt speaks from the edge of the bed, my head snaps round to look at him.

"stop matt!" i almost yell, which shuts matt up quickly.

i storm back into the bathroom, i hear matt laugh slightly from behind me.

i tear off my pyjamas, and tug up the tiny skirt. as i go to zip up the sides the zipper pops off.

and that will do it.

i erupt into a loud sob, which quickly escalates into floods of tears.

i hear some movement coming from matt and i’s room before the bathroom door swings open, matt takes one look at me and his face drops.

i don’t want to look at him, or for matt to see me like this.

“hey- hey what’s going on sweetheart?” matt says, panic clear in his voice as he reaches for the side of my face.

i shake my head as more and more tears flow down my flushed cheeks.

he wraps his arms around me and i bury my face in the fabric of his shirt.

i let out shaky breaths as i attempt to calm myself down, my body shaking in matt’s arms.

“come- come to the bedroom.” he whispers into my hair before picking me up by my ass.

i nod as i bury my face into his shoulder, matt carries me into our air conditioned bedroom and plops me down on the edge of the bed.

my legs dangle of the edge of the matress, matt sits down right beside me, the matress shifting under his weight.

he wraps his arm around my shoulder and tugs me closer to him as i continue to cry.

“what’s going on baby.” matt says softly, rubbing my back.

i crawl over and sit myself down on matt’s lap, straddling him.

he grabs the sides of my face with two hands, his thumbs wiping my tears delicately.

“you- you’re mad at me.” i squeeze out with a loud voice crack

matt’s eyebrows furrow, but i continue to speak “and- and i don’t look good.. like my hair and outfit.” i sniff

matt plants a kiss to my swollen lips, he grabs my chin, making me look at him.

“i would never be mad at you princess, sometimes people fight and that’s okay, but what happened today wasn’t worth fighting for.” matt says while looking into my eyes

“and you look absolutely gorgeous, honestly.” matt says, his eyes gazing over my face.

“i didn’t mean to wake you up this morning- i promise.” i sob, letting my head fall onto matt’s shoulder.

“you know i’m grumpy in the mornings don’t you, it’s not your fault, and i’m so sorry for making you feel like it was.” matt sighs, rubbing my back soothingly.

i sit on his lap in silence for a couple minutes as i take in sharp breaths.

i feel matts chest rise and fall against mine, i attempt to copy his breathing.

“my skirt broke earlier.” i say lightly, lifting my face away from matt’s shoulder.

“did it?” matt asks, his head tilting down as his long fingers inspect my skirt.

i nod, pointing to the broken zip. “i’ll get you another one tomorrow, how about that?” he speaks with a small smile.

“you don’t have to do that.” i breathe, “i’m gonna do it anyway as an apology for how i acted today.” he protests.

��let’s get you out of that skirt then if it’s broken.” matt suggests, picking me up again and walking me over the the closet.

he pulls out a pair of his sweatpants and brings me back over to the bed, matt places me down on the edge of the bed and bends down.

his hands tug down the hem of my skirt, pulling it down my thighs.

he purses his lips out of concentration before tugging the sweatpants up my legs.

he stands back up “you want your hair out?” he asks,

“it’s gonna be crunchy if i take it out, because of the amount of gel i put in.. but it’s also tugging on my scalp like crazy.”

“i’ll wash your hair later for you.” matt smiles, he’s always loved washing my hair for some reason.

i wipe my face, flustered by his words.

“do you want some water?” he asks, i rub my puffy eyes with a nod.

he walks over to me and grabs my hand, tugging me up off the bed. matt walks me out of our room into the corridor.

i follow closely behind him as we walk down the corridor into the kitchen.

i stand next to the counter top, matt walks over to me and grabs me under my armpits before lifting me up onto the countertop.

he grabs a cup and fills it up with cold water before walking over to me.

he holds it up to my lips, “and… open.” he says, i open my mouth slightly and matt pours some water into my mouth,

he accidentally pours too much, my cheeks hollowing out as i lock eyes with him.

i let out a loud laugh, spraying the water all over his shirt.

i slam a hand over my mouth as the water leaks down my chin.

“oh- my god.” matt erupts into laughter, both of our laughs filling the room.

“i am so sorry-“ i say in between giggles.

“how did that even happen-“ matt rubs his eyes with a wide smile,

“i’m so sorry- i don’t even know-“ i laugh,

but i’m cut off by his soft lips pressed against mine.

“i love you.” he mutters against my lips with a grin,

“i love you more.”

——

@gabrielle-brun1 @ilovemymannnnnnnn @sturnioloxlver @buckys-goodgirl @sturniol0s @mattybsgf @stupid4sturniolo @lydi2718 @chrisstopherfilmed2 @flosslikeabosss @zturndq @skysturniolo @jetaimevous @sturniolo04 @luxy-nyx @aliceloveschris @livvy4realll @chrissturnsss @ilovemymannnnnnnn @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @ecilphttlunar @bitchydragonparadise @thematthewlover @sturni0l0 @ratatioulle @sturnsfav @chrisgetsmewetterxo @mattsonly @justalittle47 @mattsturnioloisbae@sunsetsturniolos @sturniolo04 @similartokayyz @pkfferoo @sturnsintrouble @ilovemattsturn @raysmayhem-72 @75sturn @sturniol0s @secret-sturniolo @hfkeclnendmwodne @sturniolosass @gxldenlush @stonermattsgf @101sara @beccaluvschris @oliviasturniolo21 @imwetforyourmom @tylerstacobell @sunsetsturniolos @aliceloveschris @jayz4dayz4 @sassysturniolo2008 @nyktoxs-lover @nathandoesgf @starsturns234 @chrissturnsss s @joemamaaa42069 @sturnthepot @zayyluvz @realuvrrr @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs @riowritesitall @raysmayhem-72

[flowerbunnyboo]

PROSTATE PLAY | back

starring: oc (Adam) x male reader

summary: Adam is a urologist, a doctor that deals with penises and prostates. Little did he expect to have one of the best sex ever with a random patient on a random day

nsfw

a/n: this is a repost. I have written one with a kpop idol. Thought I should post this without a kpop idol for the non kpop fans because I love the sayuncle videos

It was a typical Wednesday morning at Dr. Adam’s urology clinic. Patients trickled in, each with their unique set of urinary issues. Adam, a tall and handsome man in his early thirties, greeted them with a warm smile as he efficiently diagnosed and treated various conditions - from kidney stones to prostatitis.

Just before lunch, a new patient arrived, introducing himself as Mn. He looked to be in his late twenties, with short dark hair and piercing eyes that seemed to hold a secret. As Mn settled onto the examination table, Adam couldn't help but notice the way his slender fingers drummed against his thigh, betraying a hint of nervousness.

“So, tell me Mr. Mn”,Adam began, leaning over the chart, “What seems to be the problem?”

Mn shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting around the sterile white room before finally meeting Adam’s gaze.

“Well, Doctor... I've been experiencing some discomfort down there,” he gestured vaguely towards his crotch, his voice dropping to a whisper. “It's like... my dick just feels off sometimes”

Adam raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself. “Off, how exactly? Painful? Tingly? Or perhaps... “. His voice trailed off suggestively as he allowed his gaze to linger on Mn's lap, where a noticeable bulge strained against the fabric of his jeans.

Mn's cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and he quickly looked away, clearing his throat. “N-no pain, really. Just... sensitivity, I guess. And sometimes it gets hard without warning”

Adam nodded thoughtfully, making a note on the chart making another mark beside 'Premature Ejaculation'.

He glanced up at Mn through his lashes, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Hmm, interesting. Well, let's take a closer look, shall we?”

Without waiting for a response, Adam reached for the stethoscope hanging from his neck and deftly unbuttoned Mn's pants.

The cool metal pressed against sensitive skin as he listened intently, his breath hot against Mn's inner thigh.

“Mmm, sounds healthy enough”, Adam murmured, his fingers trailing lightly along the waistband of Mn's boxers. “But I think we should rule out any potential prostate issues. Just a routine exam, don't worry”

Mn bit his lip, trying to ignore the thrill that shot through him at Adam’s touch. ‘Prostate exam?’ Was that normal for this kind of visit? He didn't think so, but the doctor's confident demeanor put him at ease.

Adam carefully peeled down Mn's boxers, exposing his erect cock to the cool air of the exam room. A low whistle escaped his lips. “My, you're quite the one, aren't you?”

Mn's face burned even hotter, but he couldn't help shying under the praise.

Adam’s hands were gentle as they wrapped around his shaft, giving it a slow squeeze. “Relax, this won't hurt a bit”, the doctor assured him, his thumb rubbing teasing circles over the sensitive head.

As Adam began to stroke Mn's length, the young man felt his resolve crumbling.

The pleasure was overwhelming, and Mn found himself arching into Adam’s touch, his hips instinctively rocking to meet those skilled fingers. “Oh god, that feels...amazing”, he panted, his eyes fluttering shut.

Adam smiled to himself, pleased by the reaction. He picked up the pace, pumping Mn's cock with increasing urgency. “You're doing great, just relax and enjoy it”, he cooed, leaning in close to murmur against Mn's ear.

The heat of Adam’s breath sent shivers down Mn's spine, and he could feel his balls drawing up tight, signaling his impending climax. But just as he teetered on the edge, Adam abruptly pulled away, leaving Mn aching and empty.

“Almost there, but not yet”

Adam said with a wink, his own erection straining visibly against his scrubs. “Now, let's see about that prostate of yours...”

Before Mn could protest, Adam had positioned himself between his thighs, one hand guiding Mn's leg up and over his hip. The other hand, slick with lube, pressed insistently against Mn's rear entrance.

“Oh!”, Mn gasped, surprised by the sudden intrusion. But instead of pain, a wave of intense pleasure washed over him as Adam’s finger breached his tight hole.

“That's it, just relax”, Adam soothed, slowly working his finger deeper. “You're doing fantastic”

Mn moaned, his head falling back as he surrendered to the sensation. Adam finger curled inside him, stroking that magical spot that made stars explode behind his eyelids.

”Doctor”, Mn whimpered, his voice trembling with need, “please... I need..”

He didn't even know what he needed anymore, only that the ache within him demanded to be filled.

Adam must have understood, because suddenly he was removing his finger and replacing it with the thick head of his own cock.

Mn cried out as he felt that first delicious stretch, his body Adam the invasion. Adam pushed in inch by glorious inch until he was buried to the tip, filling Mn completely.

For a moment, they simply stayed like that, caught in the haze of pleasure. Then Adam began to move, withdrawing until just the tip remained inside Mn before plunging back in with a deep, satisfying thrust.

“Yes, oh god yes”, Mn chanted, his hands fisting in the sheets as he met each powerful stroke.

The room echoed with the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, punctuated by their ragged breathing and muffled groans. Adam set a relentless pace, driving into Mn with precision and passion, his hips snapping forward with each thrust.

Mn's world narrowed to the feeling of being so thoroughly claimed, so utterly owned by this handsome doctor. He'd never experienced anything like it, and the intensity threatened to consume him whole.

“Harder, please”, Mn begged, his voice hoarse with desire. “Fuck me harder!”

Adam obliged, picking up speed until the exam table shook beneath them. He leaned down to capture Mn's mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep to tangle with Mn's.

The added stimulation sent Mn careening over the edge.

With a strangled cry, Mn came undone, his orgasm crashing over him like a wave. His cock jerked, painting the sheets below with streaks of cum as wave after wave of bliss pulsed through him.

Through it all, Adam continued to pound into him, chasing his own release. “Fuck, you feel incredible”, he growled against Mn's lips, his thrusts growing erratic as he neared the edge.

With a final, brutal plunge, Adam buried himself to the inside and still Mn could feel every throbbing inch as he erupted inside him. The warmth of his seed flooding Mn's insides triggered another aftershock, leaving them both shaking and spent.

As the aftermath settled, Adam collapsed onto Mn, his weight a comforting pressure against him.

They lay there for a long moment, catching their breath and savoring the intimate silence. Finally, Adam lifted his head to gaze at Mn with a soft, satisfied smile.

“Well, that was certainly an unconventional examination”, he teased, brushing a strand of sweat-dampened hair from Mn's forehead. “But I think we can safely say your physical is complete”

Lets say Mn became a regular at the clinic

©️ flowerbunnyboo 2024. all rights reserved to me. please don't copy my work or reshare without my permission and credit

[holybibly]

I've been nice to you little bunnies and let you rest, but mommy's coming back on the air. And since you've been asking about Yunho a lot lately, here's a sweet treat for you.

Unholy thoughts of the day, my sugar bunnies:

You hated your company's New Year's Eve parties, and it seemed that they hated you back. The past few years had been truly memorable for you: a broken leg, an ice angel falling on you (although you're not entirely sure it was an angel because winged creatures just can't have huge dicks and big balls, but everyone in the office loved it and even rubbed it for luck, but that's not the point), and last year your boss threw up on your vintage Chanel shoes, so this year you were ready to say a definitive "no" to the company New Year's party. But as it turned out, your "no" to the party was tantamount to a "no" to your job at the company, and as a result you found yourself huddled in a dark corner of the strip club, choking on tasteless canapés and not sharing your colleagues' puppy-like glee at the fact that someone's dick, albeit a very nice, thick, sinewy dick, was dangling in front of their faces. Although, with a heavy heart, you had to say that the thick, juicy ass of one of the guys that now shamelessly twerking on stage was a real treat, hell, you could swear you saw a butt plug between those delicious cheeks.

Anyway, you didn't think much about it, preferring to concentrate on the cocktails, and damn, you should have thought twice before ordering a "Dirty Santa", because it wasn't a cocktail at all. So here you are, on all fours on the floor of a private dance room, while a gorgeous, incredibly sexy guy in the sluttiest Santa suit is pounding you from behind with his huge cock.

"You've been such a naughty girl, doll, and you know what Daddy does to naughty girls, right?" Yunho slaps your ass cheek with his big palm, leaving a bright red mark on your soft skin. "Come on baby, tell me, or is your throat still sore from sucking me off? Maybe I should let you drink some of my cum to ease the discomfort? You know it'll feel so much better with my thick, warm sperm running down your throat."

You hum something incoherent in response, too caught up in the feeling of his cock trying to squeeze into your tight little cunt. And it seems that your condition only excites him more and making him giggle in entertainment.

"Well, well, well, darling, I see that daddy has to answer for you after all, because you are already so fucked that there is only air left in your pretty head and you can only think with your pussy, but I don't blame you, no, because all this is because of daddy's cock, I can't blame you for being such a slut for me. But, doll, like I said, you were such a bad girl. Yunho purrs, pressing his hot, oily body against your back and wrapping one of his hands around your throat to smother you slightly. "So, doll, all the naughty little girls daddy always fucks raw."

[clos-posts]

Okay so, hear me out:

I've been on a bit of a Merlin fanfic hyperfocuse and came across another "I'm Emrys" where Merlin has to perform magic for Arthur to believe him, in front of the entire round table council, and I had a thought.

So, we all know that Merlin is magic itself, spells that seemed powerful to other sorcerers are not that powerful to Merlin and my hc is that these spells barely make his eyes turn gold, like maybe a flicker so fast the average person will miss it.

So I imagine Merlin saying he's Emrys and Arthur being all 'well then prove it' and Merlin makes a fireball (cliche I know but bear with me). Now Arthur has seen this spell and though he has a merger knowledge of magic, knows that it's quite a powerful spell and that most sorcerers eyes are practically a blinding gold, but Merlins eyes don't change. That and Merlin doesn't even speak and therefore didn't cast a spell.

Arthur, thinking that some other sorcerer helped Merlin with his self-sacrificing, kind-hearted, not wanting anyone to die personality, appear as if Merlin is this 'Emrys' and in a patience but patronizing tone tells Merlin that's is honorable to try and protect this Emrys, but his eyes didn't even change colour and therefore can not be a sorcerer.

Merlin, in a very Merlin way, huffs and proceeds to say something like 'Well duh, that was a very simple spell. Doesn't even require that much magic to perform' and the entire room goes silent.

(meanwhile Guise blood pressure has skyrocketed and is on the verge of either killing Merlin himself or having a heart attack. He hasn't decided yet.)

Arthur, absolutely baffled (and a little turn on at the casual display of apparently immense power), asks: 'What will make your eyes gold then? If you even are a sorcerer?'

Merlin, never one to back down from a challenge and already too deep into this, shrugs and says 'We would need to be outside'

And that's how the whole council ends up on the training grounds opposite Merlin waiting in anticipation as to what he will do.

There's silence so thick that no one dares break until Merlin starts to chant. At first nothing happens and Arthur is relieved (and a little disappointed), but then clouds start to gather, think dark clouds above them, and Merlin starts to get louder. Thunder claps across the sky and there electricity in the air making Arthur's hair stand on end and a shiver works its way down his spine. He looks at Merlin and though it's subtle at first, his eyes are glowing gold.

The tension builds and builds and with one final shout from Merlin, his eyes, a brilliant gold, as lightning falls all around him, clashing to the ground destroying the train field in its wake.

Arthur can do nothing but stare. Breath caught, heart hammer, and a sudden hot arousal catching him off guard. He can do nothing but stare at Merlin, his loyal manservant, standing amidst the lighting with his head thrown back and a look of contentment on his face, as if performing magic of this magnitude is comfortable, relaxing, an everyday occurrence.

When Merlins eyes meet Arthur's, there's a, small, sad smile on his lips, and then quicker then it had started the lightning stops and the clouds disappear, and the only thing that can be heard is the birds beginning to sing again.

Arthur can't think of anything to say and stupidly say 'you destroyed the training grounds'. Merlin at this point blushes, stammers out an apology before waving his hand with a few muttered words and the training field is in perfect condition once again.

Arthur and the entire council are baffled.

Then, before anyone could say anything, Arthur blurts out a command for Merlin to go to Arthur's chambers and he does. Without question. Just a shrug, and walks off. Arthur is wheeling. This powerful sorcerer, who just showed them a feat that no mortal man will ever replicate just listens to his command with nothing but a shrug!

Anyway, once Arthur has calmed the council somewhat he makes his way to his chambers. Once he enters Merlin is speaking so fast it's hard to keep up, something about coins, destiny and then shockingly how Arthur is the only person that can kill him if he uses Excalibur. What. The. Fuck.

Arthur: I'm not going to kill you Merlin!! Why would I kill you?!?

Merlin: Well, I mean, umm, I'm a sorcerer? Emery's? The strongest warlock to ever walk the Earth?

Arthur: I'm not going to kill you Merlin. However! If you do not take me to bed and absolutely ravish me in the next 10 minutes, I may have to resort to drastic measures!

Merlin, absolutely gobsmacked, face red: Wh- what measures..?

Arthur, absolutely confident, turned on beyond belief, practically gagging for it: I'll start begging.

And before he knows it Merlin pounces, and the rest is history.

That was not meant to be as long as it was... 😂

BUT!! If someone who writes fics could take this and write a fully fleshed version on this and then tag me in it I would be forever grateful. ADHD and dyslexia does not make a good writer for me unfortunately 🥲🥲🥲

OH! One last thing! I have a hc that cold iron had a natural negative field which repels energy which is why those that have learned magic have it cut off when chained in cold iron. They can't draw upon their magic from the energy around them. However, with Merlin being magic it's a little different for him.

So, I had this image of a knight, without prompting thinking he's doing what the king would want, walks up to Merlin at some point during his light show and slaps cold iron shackles on him. But, instead of the magic stopping, Merlins eyes grow brighter and bright, and the shackles start to shake and groan, because whilst cold iron does repel energy, it's a little hard to do that from both sides and can't take the pressure. At some point the shackles start to glow as the negative properties of the iron are being overwhelmed and forced into itself. Merlin looks down, looks back at the now terrified knight and says: You should probably duck. And no soon has the knight hit the ground the shackles explode, for lack of a better word. No harm done to Merlin tho.

[bubblegumgothglados]

This is a RACK focused best practice guide to doing a drowning scene, more specifically a scene where you're repeatedly forcing your victims head under the water. These are my suggestions based on extensive research but they are only theoretical i haven't got to do this to anyone yet. If you have actual experience id love to hear from you please.

Pre-scene setup

Learn CPR. This is the single thing that I'm going to say is mandatory, everything else is just a suggestion this isn't. If worst comes to worst and your victim is drowning you need to be able to save their life.

Learn your victim. How do they react in pain, when they're scared or panicking, where are there mental breaking points. Especially helpful to have done breath play with them before, how long can they hold their breath, how hard will they fight, what are their non verbal cues. Are they the type of person who will push their limits past the danger point, are you comfortable shutting the scene down when they're begging you to continue.

Figure out your nonverbal communication. A safeword is important but not nearly enough for a scene like this. Their head is going to be underwater most if the time and they'll probably be struggling and fighting. What signs can they make to tell you to stop or slow down under these conditions. I would suggest giving them something to hold that can make noise, a squeaky toy or a clicker or something similar, with which to signal you.

During the scene

Use warm water. Cold water adds a whole plethora of new problems significantly increasing the risk. I'm not sure of the exact temperature but I think it should be either room temperature so your victim doesn't feel a temperature difference between the air and the water, or body temperature so the water doesn't change their core temperature. (If you'd like to use cold water or even ice water, if that's part of the appeal, ill happily figure out the additional risks in exchange for a video of you drowning your victim ^.^)

Watch their face. Like any other form of breath play hypoxia is a major risk. This post isn't about breath play, I'm assuming you know all those risks and how to manage them before you do something like this.

Start slow. Put your hand on their head but let them submerge themselves and then come back up when they're ready. This will get them used to the sensation and you used to the rhythm. Slowly increase pressure and intensity until you're forcing their head under and pulling it up against their will.

Have the person fill their lungs to capacity before submerging them. The reason being they will have to breath out before they breath water back in so as soon as you see the first sign of bubbles you can pull them out.

After care

This scene will be intense so the aftercare needs to be too. Again this post isn't about proper aftercare I'm assuming you know how to do that if you're doing something like this. But in addition to the usual.

Have a plan for monitoring your victim for the next 72 hours. There are two major complications that can occur after a drowning incident and both can take days to present themselves. The first is when a persons throat spasms and closes, this is supposed to happen when they initially inhale water but can happen much later. The signs to look out for include persistent coughing, irregular breathing, dizziness, confusion, and foam around the mouth and nose. The second is when water gets deep into the lunges it can cause fluid to build up which inhibits gas exchange causing the person to slowly suffocate. The signs to look out for can include coughing up blood, excessive sweating, anxiety, pale skin, and a crackling sound when breathing deeply. If your victim shows any of these signs get them to a medical professional asap, don't risk it these will both cause very painful death.

Enjoy ^.^

[pinkdaiisies]

Ease My Worried Mind - R.L.

Remus Lupin x reader

Summary: Reminiscing about photos on Remus' nightstand. Also some serious conversations and thoughts about Remus' condition. (Remus is in loooveeee; fluffy; kissing)

Words: 1.1k

Notes: Guys this is so good. Like I'm actually so proud of this one. Pleaseeeee comment and let me know what you thought of it, comments are super appreciated!!! (I thrive on validation) Please enjoy! (Also the title is from the song 'Layla' !!)

___

It took loads of convincing to be where you are now. Remus' bed was quite comfortable. The scent of him in the sheets comforted you. Remus was in the bathroom about to take a shower.

Lyall, Remus' father, didn't like company over so close to the full moon. Remus' excessive chatting about you since first year made him believe that you were a trustworthy enough person to allow in his house.

Even though you were in your later years at Hogwarts, none of the other boys had been to Remus' home. Except James when he picked Remus up to take him to his house. Even then, Lyall and Hope didn't allow James to come inside.

It wasn't them being rude, you could tell that they were just protective over Remus. His friend group at Hogwarts was the first one he was ever allowed to have.

Lyall and Hope had been very kind to you since you had arrived, but you could tell they were nervous about the full moon being so close. They were almost too nice, but it was an awkward nice.

As your thoughts roamed about Remus and his family, you looked around at Remus' room. The walls were plastered with posters of various rock stars and movies. Upon his nightstand there was a framed picture of him with James, Sirius, and Peter. Remus was sandwiched in between Sirius and James. Sirius' arm was around Peter's shoulders, and James' hand was squishing Remus' face. The picture moved and you could see Sirius's head fall back in laughter. You reflected on the moment fondly, you had taken this picture.

Your eyes kept roaming, and lying on his nightstand was another picture. This picture was encased in a charm meant for a necklace. You picked up the charm and smiled fondly. This picture was of Remus and you. You could remember this moment exactly.

_

"Could I have a refill please." Peter said quietly as the waitress walked by ignoring him.

The group giggled at Peter's embarrassment. Although you and Remus paid no mind to this, you two were having your own conversation in the corner of the half booth table your friends had picked.

"It's alright mate, i'll go get one for you." Sirius stood up and walked to the bar, Peter following quietly behind.

The Three Broomsticks was a bit too warm for late spring, but the frost in your butterbeer made up for it. Remus' arm around your back and hand on the side of your thigh probably didn't help either, but this heat you didn't mind as much.

At this moment, Remus was whispering something silly in your ear, and you giggled. Then all of a sudden there was a bright flash in your face.

"Godric, you two. Off in your own world the whole time we've been here. Don't know why we go to Hogsmeade anymore!" James said as he snatched the camera from Lily.

"Didn't they look so cute though! That's why I took the picture," she said towards James. "You guys are going to be grateful for that picture, you look so good y/n!" Lily finished as she tried to take the camera back from James. James used this as an opportunity to stand up and put the camera in the air, much to tall for Lily to reach.

___

The picture was good. Your makeup and hair looked perfect, and Remus looked absolutely smitten as he whispered in your ear. The picture moved and cutoff mid giggle, going back to the moment when Remus leaned in.

"I'm out." Remus walked in, hair wet and messy, the only thing on was his boxers.

You put the picture back in its spot on his nightstand. When you took in his appearance and lack of clothes you blushed.

Remus dried his hair messily with his towel. He then reached in his dresser and unfortunately pulled out an old t-shirt. Putting the t-shirt on, he walked over to his bed, where you were still laying. He crawled into bed, while crushing you in the process. You laughed as he put almost all of his body weight on you. Eventually, he rolled over, and you two were lying side by side.

You looked over at him.

"Remus do your parents know that I know?" You asked him intently.

Remus looked back at you, not expecting such a serious question. You knew he didn't like talking about it, so every time you did, it shocked him.

"Yes. They do." Remus looked at you gently. "That's probably why they're acting so weird. Usually when people find out that I'm a werewolf, they don't normally want to be in our home," Remus said with a tight lipped smile, "Especially laying in the werewolf's bed." You rolled your eyes and giggled. It made sense, it did. The stigma around werewolves was still very outdated. The wizarding world wasn't very open minded.

Your hand went to hold Remus' cheek. Your thumb traced the scars on his face. Your gaze held his admirably.

Remus' thoughts raced throughout this moment. One thought was the loudest though: He was so lucky to have you in his life.

Remus was able to be vulnerable with you, which he wasn't allowed with everyone else. He was also able to tell you every thought on his mind. Most of all, he was able to trust you with the biggest secret anyone could ever hold.

Remus leaned in and kissed you gently on the lips.

"I love you," Remus said as he moved his hand on top of yours, still upon his cheek.

"I love you so much more Moony," your voice barley above a whisper, face leaning in once more for a kiss.

Remus moved his lips against yours vigorously. So much passion being shared between the two of you. Unfortunately, the only thought that passed through your mind was how you wished Remus hadn't put that t-shirt on.

Eventually you pulled away, breathless, you stared into Remus' face. Scar adorned, yet gorgeous. If Remus didn't have those scars he wouldn't look right, you thought. Those scars made him who he was, and you wouldn't have him any other way.

You both laid on your back for a while, staring up at the ceiling. Suddenly, Remus popped into your line of vision above you.

"Let's go for a walk," He said, while getting up from the bed. You immediately followed him, and put on your shoes.

If this was how being at Remus' house was, you'd never want to leave.

[madamechrissy]

♔ Silent Serenades ♔

♔ An arranged Marriage with Duke Gojo ♔

♔ Pairings: Duke Satoru Gojo x Duchess Reader

♔ Content/Warnings: Dirty talk, Satoru calls reader 'slut, whore' etc during sex, smacking (ass, titties, pussy and face lol) mentions of past cheating, lil bit of angst but mostly cute and fluffy (believe it or NOT) Oral (m and f recieving) teasing, mentions of jealousy- Gojo don't know shit abt asthma BUT HE TRIES lol

♔ Word count: this chap: 11k

♔ Summary: you are the diamond of the season, he is the charming Duke, it’s the marriage of the decade. Prominent families joining, and it so happens that Duke Gojo is gorgeous. But, he doesn't want you at all, leaving you a crying mess on your wedding night, alone. Now you're trapped in a loveless arranged marriage that destroys you from within. Royal AU, Cruel Duke Gojo x reader. OOC Set in 1800s England. Gojo is awful in this. You'll hate Satoru, warning you now. HEAVY angst Basically- Gojo is a royal dick and doesn't wanna marry you

A/N- I go into Gojo's pov but don't divide them! I hope the style if that is okay. <3 Comments and Reblogs appreciated if you enjoyyy

Part Twelve ♔ Masterlist ♔ Playlist

♔ Part Thirteen ♔

“What is wrong?” King Sukuna asks you, holding you far too tightly, as your head starts to spin, Satoru breaks away his look to see you, terrified now.

“Her asthma, fuck… she…”

“Fetch the physician and tell him her condition.” The King picks you up effortlessly in his arms. “I’ll carry her to a room.”

“I can carry her-”

“No need.” Sukuna walks in quick long strides as you feel your breaths more and more shallow, as the castle spins right above you, you can’t even hear Satoru anymore, or see him, though he is frantic. Soon King Sukuna has you laid on a bed, sitting right on it with you, as the physician rushes through the halls.

Satoru’s pulling you against him, cupping your face gently. “Please, please be all right, Princess.” He whispers, and you feel your own tears, wanting to stroke his cheek, but your hands are numb, your arms are limp as you try to speak. “I’ll give you all of my oxygen, baby.”

Satoru blows into your mouth gently, clinging to your body so tight, when Sukuna pulls you off him. “The physician is here, he knows how to handle this, that won’t help her any.”

“Can you sit up, your grace?” The doctor comes in now, holding a blue and white little ceramic pot, you try to nod, you think you do? Sukuna helps you up, holding you by the waist as you put your lips to the tube now. Satoru’s rubbing your back, the two men on either side of you holding you, as you inhale.

You feel the vapors in your lungs, and begin coughing violently into your hand, leaning towards Satoru as you do. He begins to stroke your hair, your ears are ringing, so dizzy and weak, he’s cupping your face gently. “Inhale again, please Princess.”

You inhale once more, coughing again, finally starting to register the room full of various faces, blinking them into focus. “What is this?” You whisper weakly, to Satoru’s exhale of relief.

“A mudge inhaler, your Grace. You have asthma and don’t have one?” The doctor said, and you frown then, shaking your head.

“My parents never really did anything- ahem- for it.” Your voice is hoarse, Satoru’s hatred of your mother grows, but also of himself.

“Take another.” The King orders, and you do, coughing much less this time, as the vapors have started to clear your airways, you gulp air greedily. “And you, Duke Gojo, never thought to have it checked?”

“I… we…” He trails off then, the words shattering him, highlighting all the inadequacies he already feels as a husband towards you, seeing Sukuna’s hand brush up and down your back, seeing you all pale and weak like this.

Why didn’t he do it? Why didn’t he make sure a doctor looked into this? He knows he loves you, fuck he loves you more than anything, so why has he not made sure you’re taken care of? He feels like a fucking idiot, as Sukuna helps you, a whole King who barely knows you, doing more than your husband, and as his ex smirks over at you both, her presence making it worse.

Got he wants to smack the smile off her, if he could he would, he ignores her completely, she makes him so sick to his stomach, focusing on you as you take your shaky little breaths. You look up at him, lidded eyes emotional, then your gaze goes to Adelia, and he sees it, the worry there. Of course you’re worried, after what he has put you through.

Satoru doesn’t know how you deal with what he’s done and still trust him at all, he would never betray that trust, but he marvels at it. At your resolve to forgive him, to let your past go. You chose him, you chose Satoru Gojo, over a man he could so clearly see adored you, loved you with all his fucking heart. A good man, perhaps better than Satoru in many ways.

But you chose him.

Satoru can never make you regret giving him such a chance, a chance he doesn’t deserve but he wants to earn it, to make you see it was the right one. But he’s so entranced with you, with your body, your giggles, your fiery little attitude, kissing and hugging and making love to you. So entranced he hasn’t thought about other things, like your frail health at times.

“I did not know much about it, this is my fault for not researching.” Satoru says, you go to open your mouth, but he stops you. “It is.”

“Never fear, she can have this and take it home. I’ll have our physician let her lady’s maid know how to use it.”

“Please do, I’ve only known of coffee as a help.” Nan says now, you look to her, seeing her blinking tears and sniffling. “My King, you're a lifesaver.”

“Tch, it’s a trifle.” Sukuna says now, Satoru sees your Nan, who rightfully hates him, practically fawn over the arrogant fucking King, who still has a hand on his wife’s narrow back, hand taking it over entirely, a hand he wants to cut off.

He should be only focusing on your health, not the fact that he wants to commit regicide currently. He shuts his eyes now, pulling you against his chest, seeing your color come back. He feels so ignorant, blowing into your mouth, he needs to learn more, to do more. But you just lean up now and kiss him, lips barely able to make pressure, breaking him into pieces.

“It’s all right, Satoru. You didn’t know.” You whisper, trying to console him, you always do that, comfort him, help him, when you should be furious.

“I’ll learn more, I promise.” You nod and snuggle against him, so small in his embrace, as he brushes back your hair.

“You both should rest before dinner, you may stay the night so we can monitor the Duchess.” Sukuna says now, clearing his throat.

You look at Sukuna now, smiling and sitting up, putting a hand on his as the air starts filling your lungs more freely. “Thank you, your Majesty, you have truly been so kind to me. I cannot stay and impose.”

“Nonsense, have a room set.” His staff curtseys and steps out in formation, Sukuna goes to help you up but Satoru is on you in a flash, possessive arm wrapped around your waist, to Sukuna’s amused smirk.

“We do appreciate it, don’t we Satoru?” You look up at him, his sullen face, pouty lips and lidded blue eyes.

“Helping with your asthma? Yes we do.” He agrees, tersely, you gasp then as Sukuna pulls you by your hand, having you fall into step against him.

“Some fresh air will do you well Duchess.” Before you can think he’s taking you out of the room, you peer back at Satoru and Adelia, stomach flipping, feeling fucking sick as you do.

“Don’t say a fucking word.” Satoru says to her once he watches the King of England with his damn wife, left with this evil woman he’d love to forget.

Now that he looks at her, all he sees is her and not you. Despite the insane resemblance, her jaw is harder, her eyes narrowed and colder, her entire presence is completely different. And not just that, because of her, he chose to be so cruel to you, she is a walking, talking reminder of all he’s done.

“Oh, Satoru, it’s been so long.” She murmurs, brushing a hand on his chest, tilting her head back and batting her lashes at him.

He yanks her hand off, shivering with disgust. “Do not presume to call me by that ever again.” He glares down at her, at your copy, not understanding how he can be so in love with you but hate her so very much.

“Don’t miss me? You married my twin it seems.”

“She’s a better woman than you could ever be, in every way. How the fuck are you even here?”

“A king can outrank a Duke you know.” She smiles, nasty and mean, and even at your most cruel, your sweetness and kind nature shone through, and that is truly where you both were completely different.

“Having fun fucking the King? At least he’s not old like my dad.”

Adelia glares now. “Oh Jesus, you think I wanted to!?”

“You were moaning pretty loud.” Satoru shivers at the memory of the ‘love of his life’ riding his father’s dick, the traumatic memories make him want to vomit, in fact just any memory of her makes him want to. She pouts now, putting on those fake eyes, the ones that used to play him so well.

“He was a powerful man, and he resented you. It was his idea-”

“You were on top moaning and laughing.”

“Well, like father like-”

“I swear I’m itching to slap you across this fucking room. Cease speaking to me, I’m not above hitting you, do not mistake me for the boy you know. Though I would prefer my wife get a whack first.” Satoru says, smirking now and turning.

“Oh, and you think you’re good enough for her? When Sukuna has intentions to make her his royal mistress?”

“What now!?” Satoru turns back and scowls, Adelia is snickering, sauntering up to him, trying to touch his hip, but he shoves off her hands.

“You’re awfully faithful for someone with so many rumors. I heard you paraded women around your ball and everything, you think she’ll forget all that?”

“It’s none of your damned affair.” Satoru looks at the windows facing the gardens now, seeing you walking next to the King.

“And you think she’s loyal to someone like you?”

Satoru steps to her now, arms barring her on either side of the wall. “What game do you fucking play?”

“I could play lots of games.” She leans close, excitement in her eyes, the eyes the color of yours but just nothing like you, how could he not have seen you all this time before?

Her hands trailing up his chest make his skin crawl, how did he ever want other women, was it because he didn’t have you yet? Was it because he was a fucking idiot, a horrible person, who you’ve somehow found yourself in love with? How could you love someone like him?

“I’ll find whatever it is you’re playing at, and ruin it for you. Go sleep with the King all you want, leave my Duchess the fuck alone.”

She blinks as he steps back. “You’re all pathetic in love again, aren’t you? Gonna let her walk all over you?”

“Difference is, she won’t.”

You wonder at what they’re thinking, what they are speaking of, as the King is showing you around the gardens. You catch a glimpse of Satoru furiously stomping through one of the beveled windows, as Sukuna’s hand rests on your waist still, making you heat up at the contact.

“I am stable now, your Majesty.” You murmur, his full lips turn up, he lets his hand drift down precariously before letting it fall.

“Perhaps I enjoyed holding you.”

You sigh, looking away. “You are too bold.”

“Am I?” He puts his hands in his pockets, leaning low. “I can have whatever I want, you know.”

“I am sure you can, my King. Shall we… head back inside? I do feel much, much better now.

“Let us.” With the tension in the air, you’re just dying to be back in Satoru’s arms, to make sure he is all right.

That knot of worry in your stomach is there, what if he still has feelings for her, what if it makes him hate you again? It’s eating at you, until you see him in the bedroom that a servant leads you to, your heart falters at the pain on his face, at the sadness in his pretty blue gaze, he whispers your name, shutting the door behind you both, cupping your face.

“I hate this, I hate her, I hate him already. I hate that you had to go through this and I couldn’t do anything.”

“Shh, you did nothing wrong.” You try to soothe him, but he shakes his head.

“I did everything wrong, these are just reminders.”

“Satoru, stop it. Now.” You hate the swirling storm in his beautiful eyes, he clings to your wrists, wrapping them with his long fingers, breaths coming faster and faster.

“She is right about me.”

“What!? What did she say!”

“That I’m not enough.”

“Coming from her? She is not right. She is nothing. You have… you have me.” You whisper, stepping even closer towards him, feeling him tremble slightly, tears just sitting on those long white lashes, shattering your heart.

“Look at what I did to you. What if you… I couldn’t blame you if you go for a damn King of all people.” You shake your head, Satoru takes his hands off your wrists, they find your waist, pressing you against his hard body. “What if I lose you now? I could not go on.”

“I’m not going anywhere. She’s filling your head with lies.” Satoru Gojo leans down, breath sweet and hot against your lips, you feel it, the beat of his heart steady against your breasts.

“Are they lies? I see him, he wants you. Do you think a baker makes up for all the whores I slept with!?” His voice breaks, as it breaks you apart, you feel your own emotions swirling in your soul.

“It’s not a game of getting even, my heart can’t take that again. I only want you, can you understand!? If I did not I would not have chosen you, to stay with you, it does not come with your past.”

“You so easily forgive me.” He scoffs then, stepping closer and closer towards the burgundy wall, barring you with one arm, while the other wraps your waist, fingers stroking your back up and down.

“I will not continue to seek some revenge upon you. As… I know you will not be with her, yes?” He glares, leaning even closer, you ache for his lips upon yours, needing that reassurance.

“Of course I will not. Despite being nearly your copy, you are nothing like her, your heart, your soul. Your…” He drifts a hand down, cupping you then over your muslin gown, you moan softly, having been in this palace and now staying here tonight, knowing the woman that destroyed Satoru is here, you two have been on edge. “Your perfect little cunt.”

“Mmm, is it so much better?” You tease, voice breathy when he presses his palm up, you feel your pussy throb around nothing, your tummy clenching with the desire pooling for him.

“God yes, everything about you is better, your mouth, your cunt, your moans, you are so much better than she could be.” He continues applying pressure, lips just a breath away. “I hate how he looks at you, I want to kill him.”

“I only see you, broody man that you are.” He moans now, slamming his lips on yours, drinking in your every cry.

“Next time he sees you, my cum will be dripping down between your thighs.” You gasp as he lifts you, pressing you against the wall, lips devouring yours, hot, messy, tongues dancing and fighting while teeth click. His kiss bruises your lips when you cling to him, legs wrapped around slender hips, feeling his length press on you.

“Then guess what I want?” You breathe out between kisses, when Satoru carries you to the bed, turning you to your stomach to unlace your bodice, nipping and biting your skin as he does, leaving bruises from his mouth.

“My cock in you, hmm? To be all mine?” You gasp in pleasure, head falling back for his dominant bites, he rips apart your bodice now, dragging the gown off you with frantic movements.

“I am yours, but no, I want to make you mine.” You turn, cupping his face, looking right at his hungry eyes and parted lips.

“I am yours, pretty Princess. All yours.”

“If I’m dripping your cum, you’ll have mine all over your lips.” You earn his groan, he’s got you completely stripped, hands gripping your ass, smacking it so hard it makes you soaking wet, you’re shaking with need.

“Need to coat my face with your slutty little cunt?” You gasp out as he runs his fingers on your slick folds, you arch your ass up for more.

“Please.” His breath is hot on your lips, he pulls them apart to reveal your little hole, drooling arousal out of it.

“Mine.” Satoru speaks against you, already soaked, when the tip of his tongue laps you up, making your hips twitch, his big hands keep your thighs apart as your body tries to close them. “Open.”

“Fuck…” He’s fucking your velvety walls with his tongue, over and over, drinking all your juices that pour into his mouth, dripping down his face. Your eyes roll back into your skull, jerking when his tongue slips up, licking you from your clit to your ass, fingering you now, biting your ass cheek. “Satoru!”

“All mine. Say it, Princess.” His voice just makes you ache even more, fingers curling in your velvety slick walls, you hear the sound of it, echoing in the elegant room, finding yourself falling apart all over them now. “Ah- ah. No cumming if you don’t.”

“Yours, Satoru, yours.” You manage to whine out the words, Satoru presses up on that spot, you’re blinded now, cumming so hard you would collapse if he wasn’t holding you around your hips. He has you flipped so fast you’re dizzy, you hastily unbutton his dress shirt with the shakiest hands, heaving breaths as you reveal his perfect body.

You’re slipping down his trousers as he reveals his chiseled body, every inch sculpted like the finest statue, you lean up on your elbows, hungrily pecking kisses on his pale skin, gripping his cock when it’s springing out. Precum dots along the slit of his pink tip, you swirl your thumb along it, pressing in, finding him so sensitive he cries out for you.

“Yours, all yours.” You say again, watching his eyes get darker, his movements rough when he grips your thigh, sinking deep, stuffing you so full so fast.

“I am, all yours. Slutty fucking Princess of mine, my slutty girl. No one- ah- else! No one, f-fuck…” He’s pumping you so full, pressing you down, a hand on your throat as the other braces himself over you, you cling to his back, nails pressing in, so full you feel him all over.

“Y-yes, s’all yours- ah!” Satoru’s fucking you so hard you feel him slamming against your cervix, hand on your throat pressing into delicate flesh, thumb brushing your pulse point, pressing, taking your oxygen.

You don’t need oxygen with him, you’ll gladly give him your every breath, when he leans over you, slamming his lips back upon yours, squeezing harder while he sinks his cock in long, slow strokes. You’re cumming before you can think to give any signal, gasping out pathetically under him.

“That’s it, fuckin feel her. Making a mess, huh Duchess?” He’s fucking your squishing cunt, the wetness pouring as you’re cumming, orgasm washing over you while you try to catch a breath, heightening it. You pant when he releases your throat, thighs squeezing around him, walls pulsating.

Satoru’s rolling his hips, eliciting a soft whimper, breath ragged now, feeling the grip that’s pressed so deep bruising and sore. You yank him by his soft white hair, dragging his mouth back on yours, he bites your lower lip, teeth sinking in, cock soaked in you as it works you, as he fucks every thought and worry out of your head, you’re only aware of him.

“L-love you.” You mewl weakly, Satoru leans back, placing your leg over his shoulder, slowly stroking inside your walls, watching you intently, biting at the thin skin of your ankle. “Ngh!”

“Want you to have all of me.” You blink back tears at that, sniffling, nodding now, when he slows and lets out a groan.

“W-want it, all of you, Toru.” The use of that name drives him crazy, he pulls open your mouth with two fingers, you open eagerly, while his saliva spits down into your eager mouth, hot and sticky.

“Perfect, pretty whore f’me, hmm?” His words along with his throbbing cock inside you are your downfall.

“Your pretty whore, Duke.” Your strangled whisper after you swallow his spit ends him, he gets frantic, his eyes so bright they’re insane, shoving your thighs up and bending you in half now.

“Gonna fill you s’good, everyone will fucking know you’re mine.” He huffs, pounding your cunt, making the most lewd noises as he does, over and over, his eyes never leaving yours. You drown in them, in him, nodding as he keeps mumbling, as he whimpers damn near, feeling your cunt constricting him while he pushes you both over the edge.

You can feel your orgasm rising again, and then he’s slamming in, harder than you’re used to, so hard and deep you feel like he’s splitting you in half, but you’re desperate for it, for all of his madness. You scream out, eyes rolling back in your head, then he follows, groaning and gasping, filling you up with hot sticky cum, making your walls flutter as your dripping wetness gushes.

When he’s done he keeps pumping, leaning low and cupping your face, big hands taking you over, you taste yourself on his lips when he kisses you, still pumping, making both of you oversensitive. “F-fuck… S-satoru…”

“I know, Princess, I know. Fuck.” He exhales now, finally pulling out, letting your legs fall to the side, your body is completely limp, your chest rising and falling in heavy breaths, erratic as you try to gain any of your senses.

Satoru pulls away, looking at you with a soft smile and lazy eyes, the rare smile that always breaks your fucking heart. His hand is stroking your cheek as you blink up at him, and for these blissful moments, you have forgotten the world outside of this room, this bed, his touch.

There is no Adelia.

There are no issues.

There is no troubled past.

It’s just you and Satoru.

“You’re crying?” He murmurs, dilated eyes looking your face over, thumbs stroking your cheeks gently.

“For a moment it’s just us.” You whisper, he gulps then, resting his forehead on yours, lashes so long they tickle your face, heart beating so fast you feel it against overheated skin.

“I know, it is just us, just you. Everything…”

“Faded away.”

“Yes.” He exhales now, kissing your forehead, a gesture so rare and sweet you find your emotions even more heightened, hands clinging to his shoulders.

“If the world would fade away, we could be happy, you think?”

“I am happier with you than I have ever been.” He kisses you so deeply, his seed is trickling out of your abused hole now, you feel it aching and throbbing, wincing a bit and shifting. He snorts. “Too rough, brat?”

“Oh fuck you, moment over.” He laughs then, making you melt, as you giggle through your tears. “We can get through this.”

“Of course-”

There is a resounding knock on the door, he glares as he looks back, the voice breaking through the barriers. “King Sukuna has asked you both to prepare for dinner, he has a gift for the Duchess.”

“I’ll fucking kill-”

“Satoru.” You both get dressed quickly, Satoru is fuming, his cheeks are bright red and his eyes are deadly, you finally go to open the door to see the servant holding an elegant box. “Oh, tell his Majesty thank you.”

The servant bows their head. “Of course, your Grace. Dinner will be promptly at seven.”

You shut the door, taking the box and setting it on the side table, opening it and gasping as you see a brilliant amethyst tiara nestled on top of tissue wrapped clothing. Satoru is visibly shaking behind you, while you take the tiara carefully with both of your hands, admiring the delicate gold wiring. It's not huge or pretentious, but it is clearly expensive and fine work.

“Is he serious? You are married.” Satoru scoffs now, you set the tiara aside, opening the tissue paper to reveal the gown, it’s all white and purple gossamer, beautiful lacy decolletage, far lower than usual for you. “I’ll kill him.”

“Satoru it’s just one more day that we are here, surely he is being kind?”

“Kind!? No. He plays a game, perhaps with her, I do not trust him despite him being our king. If he wants you, he can have you, even married to me.” Satoru’s voice sounds strangled, you hear his panic set in. “I cannot lose you.”

“You will not!” You turn then, taking his hand now. “You’re letting the fear eat at you, like me earlier.”

“How he held you… I…”

“Shh.” You kiss his plump lips, over and over.

“Do not wear it.”

“Satoru, how rude would it be to refuse this?” He sighs, rolling his eyes, before pulling out the dress, raising a brow as he holds it against you.

“God if you won’t have your tits out in this. I’ll-”

“Satoru!” You’re giggling now, earning his further glare. “Who knew you would be so jealous, hmm?”

Satoru sets the dress back down, pulling you against him by your waist. “You are everything to me, I will not let anything else happen to us. I have so much to make up for you know.”

You nod, letting him hold you, resting your head upon his chest, eye catching a note then. “Hmm.” You unfold it, and it’s the King’s writing.

Meet me before dinner, so I may give you a proper tour of the throne room.

“I swear to god, the audacity of this man.”

You peer at your husband curiously, tilting your head just a bit. “He reminds me of you just a bit-”

“Excuse me!?” Your giggle is gone when Satoru has you bent over the dresser now, lifting your skirts, smacking your ass so hard you yelp. “Bratty mouth, should occupy it.”

“Mmm, you should.” He’s shoving two fingers in your cunt now, making you cry out at how much it burns.

“You’re wasting all my cum, that won’t do.” He leans over you, breathing against your ear. “Should I teach you a lesson in wasting it?”

“=sSensitive.” You whine now, head falling back for his kisses across your neck, until his teeth sink in, biting the fuck out of you, the pain and pleasure pricing your skin, you scream out at it weakly, while you hear the sounds of his cum and your fresh arousal drooling down his long fingers.

“You’re mine.” His words, his hands, his lips, they’re too much with how sensitive you are, you feel dizzy. “Think about that when you’re with him.”

Satoru pulls away, leaving you breathless, you scowl back at him now. “You are extremely jealous, dear god Satoru.”

“Not jealous, just I know what is mine.” He kisses you again, hands tight in your hair, you exhale into his lips.

“Shh, insane man.” Another knock on the door, Satoru grabs it in long strides, letting a maid in.

“I’m here to help you dress, your Grace.”

“I certainly can do it for her-”

“It’s his Majesty’s orders.” Satoru’s blue eyes narrow, you both share a look before he stomps out angrily.

What was tonight going to be like?

You walk out now, donned in the gown that King Sukuna has sent you, it’s one of the most beautiful things you’ve worn, rivaling your wedding gown. It fits you so well it’s rather concerning, how could he know such a thing, you consider perhaps Adelia, but she’s taller than you and built a bit different, also how would he know you look the same as her?

Why he isn’t trying to get with her, presumably single, concerns you to no end, but you try to brush it off as you approach the handsome King, who smirks at you, cocky and condescending to no end. There were the tiny similarities with Satoru, you think to yourself, how he has absolutely no issue devouring so shamelessly the lines and curves of your body with his eyes.

They glint ruby as the pupils shrink slightly, the light streaming in the elegant room now, he sits there on his throne as if he owns it, and you suppose he does. He rests a chin on his hand, leaning forward, long legs spread wide, you step closer now, satin swishing against the floor, your heels gently clicking on the marble beneath you, echoing in the chamber.

“I knew it would look good on you, but this good. Fuck.” He sounds nothing like a king, you think, as you step before him, and he stands, looming so tall over you. King Sukuna makes everything seem small in his presence.

“It is a beautiful dress and tiara, I thank you kindly, your Majesty.” You do a little curtsy, but Sukuna stops you, hands on yours now, swallowing them, his hands are rough and brutal, you’ve heard of his military exploits, but feeling them is an entirely different thing.

“No need to be so formal now. Let me look at you.” He tilts your chin up, exhaling, grinning with sharp white teeth. “I thought Adelia was beautiful, but you’re something else entirely.”

“We do look very much alike.” You murmur. “But I do not think she or I are more beautiful than-”

“No, she’s a bitch.” You giggle out of nowhere.

“Sorry!”

“No, she is though. God she’s annoying, I only put up with her because she’s superb in bed. But you. Delicate, elegant, perfect… yet there’s something fiery in your eyes.”

“Your Majesty-”

“Sukuna.”

You feel your cheeks heat as he steps around you, chuckling and then whistling a bit. “You have no shame?”

“I’m a fucking King, who needs that. Boring.” He’s running his fingertips across your back, just barely, eyeing you from all angles. “I must have you.”

“What now!?” You turn angrily, crossing your arms, drawing his lewd gaze to your breasts.

“Royal mistress. I could give you things your Duke never could, fuck I’d give you  whole country if you wished it.” He brushes his fingertips across your cheek, you smack his hand away, only enhancing his grin.

“I am married, there are many women who would die for such an honor I’m sure, but I would never.”

“Oh?” He raises a brow, dark with three odd slits in it, only making him more intimidating. Your breasts rise and fall with your heavy breaths, your indignation. “And your Duke, so loyal hmm?”

“He is.” You say firmly, King Sukuna snickers again.

“Even with his old lover, you think?”

“How do you-”

He leans close, lips a breath from yours. “Sweetheart, I know fucking everything, I’m a King, did you forget?”

“N-no. Why not do kingly duties and leave idle gossip alone?” You demand, hissing the words out through your teeth.

He runs a rough thumb over your lower lip. “Is it idle gossip? Many know in every circle that your husband paraded mistresses around, it was said you two did not even share a bed.”

“Well couldn’t be more wrong, because we just shared a bed.” You smirk at him, now, he glares at you for just a moment, before going back to his laughter, hand falling but brushing down a bare shoulder.

“Ah, to show you a real man, Duchess.”

“I know a real man, thank you.” You step back, his eyes devour you entirely, to where it’s like a physical touch.

“He does all that, and you’re so loyal?”

“Is it time for dinner, your Majesty?” He tilts his head, running a hand through the pastel locks of his, inclining it then and holding out an arm.

“Let us go take a turn about, Duchess, it is time soon.” He says teasingly, you try not to roll your eyes at the audacity of him, nestling your hand in the crook of his elbow, you both walk through the throne room now, it’s certainly brilliant, silvers and golds, myriads of prisms reflecting from the chandeliers above.

“It is beautiful, surely.” You murmur, walking alongside him, his long strides agonizingly slow.

“So, tell me, Duchess, how is your marriage?” Sukuna’s question is so casual, so off-handed, you want to laugh, but instead, you keep a straight face, looking up at him and blinking at his audacity.

“It’s wonderful, thank you for asking, your majesty.” You say with a bright smile, Sukuna chuckles then.

“Wonderful?” His voice draws those words out.

“Yes, it has been wonderful. Though arranged as most marriages are, we are very much in love.”

You speak the very truth, you are madly in love with your husband, despite the past consistently trying to tear at you both. There are so many moments of peace snuggled next to him in the morning, giggling as he teases you during breakfast, then of course the passion at night. Until today, things had been going perfect for just a bit.

“Ah, but what of your needs? Do you not feel neglected?” His voice interrupts your thoughts.

“I assure you, my needs are exceeded.” The memories of Satoru just a half hour ago fill your head, making it swirl.

“But what of your desires?”

You feel your cheeks heat, glaring at him as you all finally arrive at the doors to the hall. “I dare say, my desires are more than met, my husband and I are very similar.” Freaky, in fact you think back on his hand around your throat, him shoving cum back in your cunt, overheating.

“Do the thoughts make you blush?” He teases.

“It is not your place to question that.”

Sukuna laughs, the sound echoing. “Fiery, I like that.”

“Fiery?” You roll your eyes, walking and hearing her voice then, Adelia, she’s tugging on Satoru’s tie, he scowls and smacks her hand, to her anger and your little smile as you peer at them.

“The fuck off me, walking plague.” He brightens when he sees you, but then his glare is back and darker, when Sukuna’s hand comes over yours, his blue eyes glittering angrily across the expanse of hall.

Adelia is scowling at him, then at you, before she steps even closer, leaning up and whispering something in Satoru’s ear, you watch his face fall and pause now. “Something wrong, Duchess?” Sukuna asks.

“Excuse me, my King.” You step away from him, walking right up to Satoru and Adelia, Satoru quickly snatches you by the waist, much to Adelia’s irritation. “Keep your grimy little hands off my husband.”

She eyes you up and down. “As if you’ll keep your hands off the King? I doubt that.”

You smile, cold and nasty at her. “I only want Satoru. I’ll leave all the sleeping around to you, I hear you’re quite good at it.” Satoru snorts next to you, as does Sukuna, who has just walked up.

Adelia scowls, mouth wide open. “Excuse me? As if Satoru hasn’t-”

“Do not call him by his first name. He is your grace to you, considering you have no title I’m aware of?”

“Snobby little thing aren’t you Duchess? Well, do not worry, I can call him whatever I want to. After all, it was I who took his virginity, taught him all he knows.” You blink then, Sukuna snorts once more, Satoru is flushed bright pink on his cheeks, at such an intimate detail.

“So? What do I care if you did, I did not know him. You have no claim over him because of it, dear god. You’re like a dog.” She gasps, Sukuna seems to be cracking the fuck up. Satoru even joins in the laughter for a moment.

“A dog!?”

“Let’s have dinner?” Sukuna snatches your arm back up, leaving Satoru to stomp after you all, and Adelia to rush and follow.

What a fucking mess this is.

And of course King Sukuna has requested you sit next to him, his big hand brushing your thigh under the table, you feel the urge to smack it but you try to remember the consequences to such a thing. Satoru’s on the other side of him, Adelia is not fit to have dinner at your table so thank god you both didn’t have to sit with her, and Princess Urame is seated next to Satoru.

She is very quiet and only speaks here and there, a complete opposite to her highly annoying brother. You cannot stand the pretentious man truly, of course, Satoru is fuming, and Sukuna’s hand is slipping under your skirts. You snatch his hand up in a grip, batting your lashes and smiling pretty, leaning close.

“Just because you are a king does not mean I may not accidentally break your fingers.” You whisper, he snorts then, eyeing you even more hungrily, especially your decolletage, which reveals far too much of your breasts for his view.

“You break my fingers? You’re a delicate little thing, I doubt you could even leave a scratch on my back.” He teases, hot sultry breath against your ear.

“You will not find out about any scratches on your back unless you ask my husband. He has a few.” Sukuna raises a brow at you, as Adelia comes to serve Satoru a drink, ‘accidentally’ spilling it.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry!” Her voice grates on your last nerve, you watch your husband completely snap, like a bow strung too tightly.

“You little-”

“Satoru.” You murmur, he stands then, laughing madly, hand raking through his snow white hair, you can tell he has absolutely lost it, when he laughs he is truly done for.

“I’ll help you clean it-”

“The fuck you will, Adelia. I’ve had quite enough of whatever this is. Oh, your Majesty, care to take your hand off my wife’s leg?” Sukuna leans back in his seat, like he owns the damn room, but again, he does.

He is now gazing at Satoru amusedly. “You should let her help you, catch up, you know.” Sukuna’s infuriating both of you, amusing Adelia.

Just what is it with them!?

“Fuck that, fuck you. Excuse me Princess, for my shitty language.” Urame just nods a bit. “I think we are fine to leave tonight, no need to stay.”

“But after your wife passed out? You must let her rest, would you be such a selfish husband?”

“Oh I’m selfish.”

“Have a seat, Duke.” Satoru slumps back down, you ache to hold him, to caress his cheek, to let him know it will be alright, feeling the lump in your throat. “Now, we have a ball here this week. I would love it if you would be my guests, if you must go home tonight.”

“We will be delighted.” You say, putting on a fake smile now, and later that evening Satoru and you are finally headed back, it’s dark and late at night, it’s quiet for a time, you’re still in this ridiculous dress, the tiara on your head. Satoru is sullen and clearly affected, making you ache for him.

“I hated that I couldn’t do anything.” He says finally, you put your hand on his, shaking your head.

“What could you do in that situation, Satoru? Let’s just be glad we can go home tonight. I could not stand another moment there.” He exhales, nodding, dragging you onto his lap now.

“I just want us to be able to be happy.” Your heart breaks at his vulnerable words now, words you feel in your very soul. “I don’t want to see her again, I don’t want to go to some stupid ball, it makes me sick to think of it at all.”

“I feel the same, but we will make it through, yes? We have each other.” He nods quietly, clinging to you tightly, the more time you both spend, the more open and vulnerable he becomes.

What once was a very harsh, brooding and serious man, is a light hearted, sweet, caring man. He is thoughtful and funny, he is also very emotional, so different from the cold, calculated man on your wedding night. You wish so badly you could have known him like this from the beginning.

And fear so badly what more damage Adelia can do to his progress.

“Talk to me about something, anything, I must get my mind off his fucking hands on your perfect body.” You shift now, brushing back his hair softly.

“The only hands I desire are already here.”

“Are they rough enough?” He teases, and you glare. “I’m kidding!”

“I like them soft and elegant.” You hold out his long fingers now, swamping your little hand. “I love these piano fingers of yours.”

“Piano fingers, hmm? And I love your stubby little-”

“Fuck you.”

He snorts in laughter, and you break into a giggle yourself, letting him hold you against his chest as the carriage gently rocks you, lulling you along with his steady heartbeat. “Sleepy, brat?”

“Mmm, I am.” You yawn again, eyes fluttering shut, you cling to his jacket, as he brushes his hands up and down your arms.

“I can’t lose you.” His soft words make you look at him in the dark, he cups your face, bringing his lips to yours.

“You will not lose me. I can’t lose you, either.”

“Would you be better off-”

“I’ll smack you.” He sighs. “I hate what she’s already fucking doing to you, where’s my cocky ass of a husband?”

“Somewhere.” He grumbles. “Just rest.”

“Satoru…”

“Rest, I’ll wake you when we are there. You went through a lot today.”

“I’m fine, I promise.” You kiss him again, hating Adelia with every bit of your fucking body and soul for what she can do to the love of your life in moments. “I can stay up.”

“I like to hold you while you sleep.” You kiss him slowly, drinking in his soft moan, before burying your face against the warm crook of his neck again, wrapping your arms under his coat around his waist.

“Just for a minute.” You blink then when Satoru is carrying you in his arms, into the dark halls of your home, you yawn and snuggle against him more. “Satoru, you could have woken me up.”

“I really need you in my arms right now. Yes, it’s fucking-”

“Sweet.”

“Ugh.” You giggle at him, he helps undress you, until you’re slipping on your nightgown, letting out another yawn as he helps you up into his bed, pulling you against his bare chest now. “I could get used to this treatment.”

“Princess treatment, hmm.” You nod, kissing his lips, brushing snowy hair back, feeling such bliss you cannot quite describe it, can’t put it into words, mixed with the pit in your stomach.

“Am I really related to that bitch?” You whisper, Satoru snorts.

“Your mouth, so dirty.”

“Oh whatever term should I use!?

“It fits well, you must be related, if not, what the hell is this resemblance? But she’s not from nobility as far as I ever knew.”

“Hmm, perhaps my father… no, she looks like my mother. Dear God should we do some investigating into this?”

“Only if you want to, matters naught to me. Do you think your mother would even allow such questions?”

“Not her, but the staff loves me, and they know everything. Perhaps I’ll get a little information, since she and the King seem so interested in our lives.”

“I love you, sneaky little brat.”

“I love you, broody man.” You lean up, kissing him gently. “I will make some inquiries, you know Shoko and Suguru are coming tomorrow?”

“Yes, now I have to watch my best friends together, it's disgusting.” You roll your eyes at him, soon you’re laying back against him in the quiet night, safe in his arms.

“I do not want this happiness to end either, I’m so terrified, Satoru.”

“Even a King and a royal bitch will not fuck this up for me.”

“The King!? Holy shit I need a drink.” Shoko holds out her wine glass for more, Suguru whistles and leans back, holding his glass out for a whiskey pour, little Satoru the puppy is happily in Satoru- the husband’s- lap, panting happily much to Satoru’s dismay. You scratch him behind the ears as you sip your own wine.

“Yes the King wants her as his ‘royal mistress’.” Satoru tosses back his glass, now holding his up for a pour, the puppy hops down and starts running around you all, as he wipes off his lap. “Damned deformed bunny sheds so bad.”

“You love him.” Satoru rolls his pretty blue eyes, dragging your chair closer, an arm wrapped around you, much to the pleasure of Suguru and Shoko.

“If the King wants her…” Suguru trails off with a sigh.

“Fuck do I know.”

“It will not happen. Now, how are you two?”

“Much better now that my friend isn’t being a piece of shit.” Suguru says, an arm around Shoko’s waist, she snickers.

“Same, actually, took the thoughts from my mouth.” They both stick their tongues out at Satoru.

“Yes well, I’m sure the person most happy is her.” He pecks a kiss on your cheek, making them heat up.

“So you all were to explain things somewhat? She was absolutely going to leave you, and I was honestly happy.” Shoko says, lighting a cigarette on her gold cigarette holder, Satoru glares. “What?”

“I was for it as well. Why the change?”

“Well…” You look at him now, he nods. “I was going to leave him, I had a man who… wanted to marry me.”

“Who wouldn’t.” Shoko winks at you.

“I love your friends.”

“Fuck you all.”

You all snort in laughter, and you take a breath now, leaning your head against Satoru’s shoulder. “He brought up me helping with the villages and the towns, his… father seemed to raise everything to an insane rate.”

“Your father was shit for finances. And in general.” Suguru swipes back some of his dark hair now.

“Understatement of the century.” Satoru says.

“Needless to say, I agreed, and the feelings I’d been shoving down due to how awful he was being came full force. I could not stop everything I felt, despite my efforts to hold back.”

“My tongue is that good.”

You smack his shoulder, Suguru and Shoko roll their eyes. “That is not the reason, insolent man.”

He leans close with a bright white grin. “Didn’t hurt though, did it?”

“The whoring was good for something.” You retort, his eyes narrow.

“You little bratty-”

“No foreplay at the dinner table.” Shoko says.

“As if Suguru’s not slipping his hand up your thigh under that tablecloth, yes I know the look.” Suguru clears his throat, blushing, Shoko just grins.

“You’re an ass Satoru.”

“You can be with us if you want to leave him again, Duchess.” Shoko says with a wink, Satoru scowls, crumbling a napkin and throwing it at her.

“You’re such a-”

“It’s a good offer.”

“I’ll beat your ass tonight.” Satoru whispers in your ear, but if you’re being honest it thrills you, as does him pressed against you, hard body, heat emitting and enticing you further.

It’s lovely to relax, just enjoy a dinner with friends, with no insane tactics, back and forths or dramatic surprises. You know the ball will have plenty of that, but to relax and laugh and enjoy yourselves? It feels like everything you were always supposed to have, supposed to feel.

Shoko and Satoru are the last two in a wicked card game, you and Suguru watch them amusedly, when Suguru leans close. “Walk in the gardens?”

“Not a scandalous one again!” He grins, and you both step out into the cool night air, you shiver just a bit despite the alcohol in your blood, Suguru slips his coat over your shoulders. “Ever the gentleman.”

“I try, Duchess. I am so very happy to see him like this.” He looks back, Satoru slams his cards down, waving his arms around wildly.

“I didn't even know he could be this way.” You muse softly, continuing to walk now, until you both sit by the fountain.

“Can I ask you something?” Suguru says softly.

“No more kisses, Sir!” He pouts before smirking a bit. “No, go ahead.”

“How did you forgive him for it? I only saw a little bit, but fuck… I am glad you did, please do not take it so, but it was horrible. Watching you waste away so quickly from being around him.” You look down, snuggling closer with his coat, taking a breath to gather your thoughts.

“It was horrible, he was cruel absolutely, not even the women that bothered me, but his words. Feeling so unwanted, so hated, for something I truly did not understand. It was not an easy task.” You exhale and look up at his warm chocolate eyes, he wraps an arm around your shoulders comfortingly.

“I admire your forgiveness, I do not know if I could have. It’s hard to forgive him for you and he’s like a brother to me.”

“I just love him, Sugu.”

“Sugu hmm?”

“It’s what he calls you.” You smile up at him, he chuckles a bit.

“I’m so special I see. But I do admire you.”

“Thank you, I am never sure if I’m making a terrible decision on any given day, but nothing feels more right than being in his arms.”

“Ah the mush.”

“Hush! I see you and Shoko getting closer.” You wiggle your brows with a grin, Suguru chuckles again.

“It’s lovely to see you happy too, you know.”

“It’s nice to be happy, for a moment. I just wish the world would let us be, but I fear we both have more work cut out for us.”

“Yes, that girl… so odd I never met her, him so in love. I was away doing university at the time but he just quit communicating. I did not know he dealt with such pain, any of it.” You sigh, nodding, Satoru and Shoko walk out now, you both hear them in the distance shouting at each other.

“It was horrible.”

“But no excuse. So forgiving it… I don’t know. I’m impressed.”

“I’m rather impressive at times. Or a disaster.”

“Nothing wrong with that. Quick, fake kiss me, we’ll anger them.” He leans close and you giggle, shoving at him.

“Why did you kiss me, Sugu?”

“You’re beautiful of course, but I felt such tenderness toward you. I hated you feeling that way, it was terrible to witness. As I said, you forgiving him is hard to understand, but I am glad he has you.”

“I am glad he has you two, you’re good for him. He’s so broody you know.”

“Broody? Snuggling, huh?” Satoru crosses his arms and narrows his eyes, you take off Suguru’s coat now, scooching and patting the bench.

“Come sit.” Shoko scooches in between you both, you throw Suguru’s coat on her shoulders now, leaving you to shiver just a bit. “Why don’t you two stay the night? I fear perhaps… Lady Shoko is perhaps feeling ill.”

“She is ill.” Satoru agrees, and Suguru pulls her against him now.

“So sick, look at the color on her cheeks.”

“I am indeed feeling sick.” You stand now, Satoru pulls you against him, your arms slipping under his coat.

“Separate rooms of course but we are going to be too busy to check.” Satoru’s winking at Suguru, you get with your Nan now, who prepares ‘two rooms’ for both of them.

“You’re glowing, Duchess.” Nan says softly, you get a little flustered then, peeking back at Satoru now.

“I’m happy, Nan.” She sighs now, your puppy is running in circles around her ankles, she picks him up and nuzzles him.

“I’m happy if you are, but it’s hard to forget.” You nod quietly, Satoru comes up now, prepared for Nan’s typical glare, but she gives him a little smile before she turns away, leaving Satoru with his mouth open.

“Did she just…”

“She did, I saw it!”

“Maybe she won’t hate me one day?” He takes you by the waist, pulling you flush against him now, pecking kisses on your cheeks.

“She does not hate you, really. She just loves me a lot.”

“I love you more than anyone.” His husky words make a heat pool in your stomach, you tremble now in his hold, needy for his touch, his kiss, his everything.

“And I love you more than anyone.” He moans softly, kissing you deeply. “I want to keep this happiness.”

“We will. If I have to kill a whole king and a bitch ex I will.” You grin, shaking your head at how ridiculous he is. “You so doubt me, brat?”

“Hmm, you’ll have to show me this prowess.” You giggle and run up the stairs, leaving Shoko and Suguru kissing and walking towards one of the rooms, but they look up at you two and smile when both of you aren’t looking.

When the door shuts everything changes, Satoru’s devouring your mouth now, you’re hastily unbuttoning his dress shirt, exposing the smooth expanse of his perfect marble skin. You kiss and lick down his throat, his collarbone, his chest, his hands yank out your bobby pins, they clatter to the floor. He pauses at your little tiara, silver and blue, humming to himself.

“We will keep this on.” He says, turning you around, unlacing you with deft, eager hands, as soon as you’re bare to him he picks you up in his arms, kissing you and pressing you against the burgundy walls, hard length pressing on you.

“Keep my tiara on hmm?” You whisper against his lips, he nods then.

“You’re my slutty princess, you know.” You whine out when his hand slips down, sinking a finger inside your entrance, already slick with want. “So slutty.”

“Maybe Suguru turned me-ah!” You laugh breathlessly when he turns you, smacking your ass so hard it stings.

“Trying to make me jealous, brat?”

“You’re sexy when you- fuck!” Satoru smacks your other ass cheek, smacking you over and over, you’re shaking at how fucking good it feels.

“You are trying to make me angry then? Your slutty cunt gets off on it, doesn’t she?” He fingers you once more, your head falls back in pleasure, gasping as his fingers scissor in and out of your soppy little pussy now.

“Maybe she d-does- ngh!” You’re smacked again, harder this time, it feels so good your eyes damn near roll back.

“You’ve got a bratty mouth tonight, hmm? Should I occupy it?” At your weak little nod he sinks you onto your knees, you eagerly open your mouth for him, as he watches his pretty Princess take his cock so good, tiara and all, like some fucking endless fantasy he’s had for so long.

Your hot wet mouth enwraps him,  your tongue sliding around the tip, feeling him throb and pulse in your mouth. You tongue the yummy precum, letting it coat your tongue as he watches you hungrily, your knees hurt, your ass throbbing, jaw adjusting, but it all serves to make you more soaking wet. You feel your cunt clenching with need as your hands drift up his thighs.

“Will I have to do this every time I want some- ah- peace and quiet? From my loud mouth- f-fuck… brat?” You would giggle if not sucking Satoru deeper, watching those snowy lashes flutter, his abdomen tense and flex.

 You suck him harder and faster, his hands in your hair, pulling and guiding you, groaning with every suck and swirl of your tongue. His breath starts coming in sharp gasps as you swirl your tongue around the tip of his cock, teasing the slit before you suck him deep, taking as much of him as you can, nose against the soft white hair above his cock.

“Fuck baby… fuck you’re so-” He groans, his hips jerking slightly, pushing you down more, his eyes never leaving yours, watching as you take all of him, your throat tight around his length, your cheeks hollowed out. “Beautiful like this, taking me s’fucking g-good.”

Satoru’s whimpering now, head against the wall as he fucks your throat, god nothing could feel better aside from your perfect pussy wrapping him. You’re gagging on him, breathing through your nose, your nails pressing into his skin as you cling to him, moaning around him, the vibrations wrecking him, his fingers tighten in your hair, tugging you closer.

“You want this cock, don’t you Princess?” He asks breathlessly now, pulling your greedy mouth off him, you have saliva dripping down your lips, tears trickling down your cheeks, but you nod eagerly. “Then how do we ask?”

“Please.” He loves you like this, when his feisty little Duchess submits so sweetly, but it’s truly he who submits to you, picking you up off your knees, carrying you to his bed, your bed… both of you sleep here every night now.

His lips kiss his taste off of you, swapping saliva so messy now, backing you until you’re against the bed, he gets you on all fours, smacking your pussy now, you scream out at it, shaking. “Look at you, covered in my handprints.”

You cannot see what Satoru sees, your ass arched so pretty, hips so inviting, he smacks your puffy cunt again, making you twitch and jerk, head falling back, tiara falling just to the side of your now messy hair. “Please…”

“Please what, Princess?”

“Smack me more.” He moans now, smacking you again and again, pulling you up to your knees, grinding his cock between your sticky inner thighs, pressing between your folds and against your neglected clit. You whine and shake at the sensation, hips arching back and forth as you cry out.

“Smack you where?” He nips down your neck now, hot hard length slipping easier and easier against you, tip nudging your clit.

“Fucking everywhere, please.” He turns you now, laying you on your back, smacking your breasts, you arch your hips up, cunt glistening with your arousal.

“Everywhere, hmm? Pretty little whore.” He smacks each tit again, watching them jiggle and marks forming from his fingers. “Here?”

“Y-yes. There. Satoru!” He’s smacking your face now, it hurts so bad you almost fucking cum then and there, so oversensitive and ready, he laughs at you, sexy and overwhelming, eyes dilated and lidded.

“Smack your pretty face?” He smacks your other cheek, you whimper out. “Pathetic f’me, huh?”

“F-fuck you. Yes.” He kisses your cheeks, each one, where he’s smacked you now, hand slipping under your chin and pressing up on your pulse point, feeling it race and flutter like a butterfly as his tip presses on your entrance.

“Fuck me?”

“Fuck me.”

“How do we say-”

“Satoru, fuck me now, I swear you-” Satoru sinks in your cunt now in one stroke, stretching and filling you full, he leans low over you, your thighs shaking, breasts heaving with your erratic breaths as his eyes drink you in.

“Something to say?” He slides out then back in, grabbing your thighs as he does, you scream out weakly, he laughs softly against your ear, arms sinking to their elbows over you. “That’s what I thought.”

You’re moaning as an answer, when he finally moves, stroking in and out with his thick cock, as your arousal pools and slips down the veins of it, you hear it, the sounds of him fucking into you, mixing with both of your gasps. Satoru cups your face so tightly, squeezing hard, as he pounds your pussy harder, your head sinks against the silk of his pillows, hips pulling back.

“Ah-ah, do not run Princess.” Satoru yanks your hips back, making you scream out when he shoves his cock so deep it’s breaking you.

“T-too deep!” You whine out, but you’re clinging to him, nails pressing into his skin, eyes locked with his while he works you, until his lips are slammed against yours, sucking every bit of oxygen, you gladly give it, screaming into his mouth while he’s thrusting over and over.

Satoru groans, flipping you then, you’ve only been on him once, so you flush just a bit before rolling your hips, head falling back. He moans, grabbing your tits as they bounce and you’re working over him, taking his length as good as you can. He grabs your hips, licking his glossy lower lip, your hands bracing on his strong chest while you sink down.

“That’s it, pretty slut. Look at you, taking cock so fuckin’ good.” His words urge you on, he fixes your tiara before taking your hips, pressing his thumbs against your pelvis, urging you, his head falling back.

“Feel s’good, Toru.” You whine, leaning down now, he’s fucking up into you while you fall apart over him, hair gently falling against his chest, you cup his face, pressing your lips against them, whining into them while he wrecks you utterly, your mind, your body, your heart. “S’all you.”

“S’all you P-Princess.” He whines, so vulnerable then, pulling you in so he can sink deeper in your cunt, stretching you so good while you kiss him over and over, sobbing at how good it feels, him filling you.

“Lemme try.” You pull back, halting his movements, rolling your hips and rising and falling against him, thighs squeezing narrow hips as you work, grinding his tip against your cervix, creamy ring of your cum pooling on the base of his cock.

“That’s it, take my cock, Princess. Fuckin use me.” He urges, his words edging you along with the fullness, so full, too full. But you cannot get enough, rolling your hips and riding him, as he feels your tight walls gripping him like a vise, feels you soaking his length so good he groans out loud, cheeks flushed, pretty skin covered in slick sweat just like yours.

“T-Toru… m’weak.” You whine, he moans now, lifting your hips, your lips are a breath against his as you brace yourself on either side of his head.

“Lemme use you, huh Princess?” You weakly nod, then Satoru uses you utterly, fucking up into your pussy as he holds your hips hostage, suspending them up while his feet are flat on the enormous bed. “That’s it, good girl.”

“Toru!” You cry out when he fucks you into an orgasm, hitting so hard your mouth is wide open, drooling pathetic, he huffs at it, at the slutty O your mouth is in, fucking you so hard you hear the slaps in the room. You feel him ruining your pussy, you know how sore you’ll be, but you want- “More!”

“Want all this cum in you, hmm?” You nod eagerly, Satoru moans now, flipping you on your back, shoving your thighs up and bending you in half. “Beg for it.”

“Oh f-fuck you. Ah!” He pulls out now, smacking his cock on your beat up, sore little cunt, you whine pathetically again. “Please!”

“Should make you swallow it, not fill you at all. Brat.” He shoves back in you though, your body is twitching as he works over you, dripping sweat from his perfect body down all over yours, when he’s pulsing, thickening, you whine weakly.

“Please cum in me. Toru. Please.”

“Need a baby? So greedy?” He demands, and you nod.

“Need a b-baby. Please, p-put it- please!” You’re helpless under him, his heavy weight pressing on you as he fucks all sense out of your brain, leaving you with this primal instinct.

“A baby huh? Fill you up? Gonna get so fucking round with me.” When he brushes a hand on your tummy you begin to cum, pulsing all over him, and he falls apart over you, desperately kissing and crying into your mouth.

Satoru pumps you so full it’s inanity, cum pouring and pulsing, as your cunt milks it all, she wants it as bad as you do. You convulse, cumming from the hot sticky white seed pooling in your pussy, coating all your walls, that continue to spasm as Satoru pumps slower and slower. He lets your legs fall to the sides, kissing you over and over, sloppy as your cunt drooling down on him.

He eases out of you now, watching you pour out, moaning. “Look at her, wasting it all again. Tsk.” Satoru shoves two long fingers in your sore pussy, eyes insane and glowing bright blue, your tears are pouring down your pretty face, making his cock fill with blood again. “Just look at you, crying, huh?”

“Sh-shut up.” You pull him down for a kiss, while he’s pushing his cum back in you, you hear the lewd squishing and clicking, struggling to come to, to take several breaths, consumed by him. “Toru…”

“I know, baby.” He eases finally, sucking both of you off his fingers, moaning as his cheeks hollow. “Taste us together.”

“Please.” He shoves his fingers back in your cunt, then back in your mouth, and your tongue swirls, grabbing his huge hand with your two little ones as you do.

“God I need you again.” Satoru has your lips back in his, turning you onto your tummy, kissing down your spine, nipping your skin, groaning as he sees all the marks on your body, before chuckling deeply.

“What? Y-you’re laughing?” You demand, angrily looking back over your shoulder, he grins so big it melts you.

“Your tiara, still fucking on.” He murmurs, you both laugh then, breathless and shaky, you go to take it off, but he stops you. “Hah, not yet, Princess.”

We are at the end almost AHHHH- two to four more parts. Thanks for everyone who's stuck with our Duke and Duchess. Reblogs and comments SO appreciated, what are you all thinking of these two and the progressionnn!?!?

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Part Fourteen