#because I love them and I’m not letting them feel alone like I did at their age- and I’m kind and gentle and they DO come to me for help

[willowed-wisp]

GHOST AS A DAD ( part three ) [ simon riley ]

part one | part two |

- You were surprised when Simon said he wanted to try for another baby when he was hesitant to be a dad before your eldest was born. That was eight year ago…

- he just wants one more, he adores how cute your babies are. And how attracted he gets seeing you pregnant.

- It wasn’t much of a surprise to you when you didn’t feel too great. Exhausted, a bit nauseous but not vomiting and so turned on. Not that Simon was complaining… but he was away, and would be longer than his usual one or two months.

- It would be your little surprise to him- ultrasounds in hand for when he came home.

- Turns out you were about eight weeks gone at the first ultrasound and when the technician started taking a closer look, you started to get unnerved. “Is everything okay with the baby?”

- “The babies are growing nicely…”

- “Did you just say… babies?” Then she faced the screen to you. Two shadows in your belly… “Twins?”

- Too early to tell the genders, but they would be when your Lieutenant returned back.

- You didn’t want to tell anybody before Simon, so you wore baggy clothes- hoping nobody would notice the unusually large belly as you entered your second trimester.

- No birth defects were spotted on your 12 week scan. And you were told a loose guess on what the gender was. But they couldn’t be sure until your 19th week.

- Simon returns back home to his favourite meal. “Where are the kids?” He seemed concerned. You were sat down, no kids in sight and a brown envelope in front of you.

- “They’re over at Tommy and Beth’s, they thought we could do with a night alone,” His face relaxed, though disappointed. He needed his tattoo coloured in again. “I got you something…”

- You took advantage of him opening the envelope to rear your way around the table. In the envelope, was a picture of the ultrasound and the test.

- Let’s just say, he spent a good 20 minutes on his knees hugging your stomach.

- He didn’t care what gender they were just that they were healthy.

- He made sure he was there for the birth. “Mr and Mrs Riley, a boy and a girl…”

- Like what’s been said before… he’s so girl dad coded.

- He had the boys from 141 help decorate the nursery.

- Johnny suggested pink and blue camo wallpaper and Simon nearly hung him from the baby mobile.

- Simon didn’t wish for any of his kids to join the military.

- The amount of medication he takes to get by in the day, he can’t sleep unless he’s at home…

- Simon is perfect for twin duty- holding both on his wings. In his grey fitted T-shirt, a bottle in each hand. Feeding the twins, in that light his eyes were russet undercoated with mauve circles. From the bed, you could feel that heat. The smouldering hearth of fatherly love.

- Simon was born to be a father, he just hadn’t known it.

- Can’t tell them apart and constantly mixes them around when they are younger. Practically identical- peering up to him with his own eyes.

- Simon marvels when the pair just stare at each other. “Are they sizing each other up, or what?” Makes you burst out laughing

- “When I stare at you I’m not planning how to murder you?”

- “Sure about that, love?”

- Simon taught your son to protect his sisters, “you’ve gotta watch our for everyone when I’m here and when I’m not,” and your son definitely listened, because whenever Simon was away- your son would make sure you ate, had put everyone else to bed and would comfort his younger siblings and even your eldest daughter when she started getting bullied and you just knew Simon put him up to it.

- Simon took care of the rest when he was back.

- When your eldest was being bullied and you had to have a parental meeting… Christ on Earth, your husband nearly had the bully’s dad in tears, “Your son ever picks on my li’l girl again… put ‘im in check or I will…”

- You’d never been so attracted to him before. And he gave your daughter a fist bump leaving school grounds, “Get ‘im by the ear next time and drag the bastard to a teacher…”

- Not surprised that the school phoned you the next day.

- You gave Simon an earful, but he wound you down with sweet neck kisses from neck to chest… and ended up riding him on the backseat on the Land Rover waiting for your daughter to finish school.

- That’s how he gets out of most disputes- you’re lucky you aren’t knocked up straight after births

- Your son’s caring and strong attitude stretched into his teenhood- until your son himself started dwelling on joining the SAS. The twins didn’t understand what the SAS were- being 8 at the time your son asked and enquired with his father.

- Simon has never wished for one of your kids to join his career because good men die. He knew that more than anyone.

- But he would train your son to be the best survivor and best trainee he could be

- He turned into a Simon junior, only having a sprinkle of your genetics. Only an inch shorter than his dad but Simon would give him a run for his money

- Simon definitely adapts to different ages very well, he goes all cutesy when they’re kiddos but when they start growing up- he’s more protective and nurtures them.

- He teaches them to look out for each other- like he had with his brother and mum.

- Tells them that if he didn’t come home, to take care of their mumma… but luckily he always comes back.

- He had to, he wanted to see the twins look miles apart from each other growing up.

- Tomboy girl and computer nerd boy.

- Simon loved his family, even when being used as a makeup mannequin and a nail polish model from your youngest daughter when playing dress up with the eldest

- It was different to the war paint he used around his eyes.

- He’d even let her put a bow in his hair.

- BRIGHT PINK BOWs, you’ve never laughed so hard and your military-bound son shakes his head.

- Every birthday that goes around he always whispers to you, “This is what I come home for…”

————

masterlist

taglist:

@thychuvaluswife @foxygirl-4287 @1-800-g00ber

[indelicateink]

THANK YOU prev, i was wondering if anyone else was seeing this. if I zoom in, it’s not the iris that’s moving I think—i think it’s the reflections flickering?

now. either those candles are super bright and going crazy (unlikely?); or being an actual film set and having entire people whose profession this is, i can admit yeah they set up lights that have some flicker to them (could be could be), OR: they could not keep their goddamn fingers off it and this is cgi that is giving us those anime eyes (possible)

and i feel like i’m the only one not loving how they cgi the actors’ eyes in this show lol. the pupils, okay—I totally get that: no problem. that adds value given the prosthetics. allowing the contacts to have an autonomic response brings some realness—and powerful emotion—to the work; it is also awesome for conveying things like You Have Just Pissed Off A Vampire, et al.

but sometimes the pupil dilation takes me out of it. they are adding *emotion* to the actor’s performance and taking away a little…agency? intimate artistic input?…and I feel like I’m standing just on the edge of the uncanny valley. —but this is a horror property. i’m rolling with it.

but where I do feel quite alone with my discomfort lol is with what they’ve done with armand’s eyes? i’m probably incorrect, but i can’t escape the feeling it was something that was fallen into when there was viewer backlash to armand’s eyes being so very orange in the s1 reveal: that they took it, but pivoted, and said Okay So No We Say This Was Intentional—Armand Is Special: for his eyes, they actually glow in times of arousal and are more moderate in times of calm. and if that’s the case—pivoting—hand to god I wish they’d just toned down the color and we would have rolled with it, because it’s tv, and creative changes happen all the time from season to season and the audience honestly doesn’t gaf beyond going “oh hey” and moving tf on

and if that’s the case, it was almost as if they couldn’t leave his eyes alone at only that. and the next thing—i just. at first I thought it was a mistake in the cgi, and then i slowly accepted the intentionality.

they give only armand nystagmus, rapid uncontrollable eye movements. (frank langella and pruitt taylor vince have nystagmus—except in armand it is super exaggerated.) again, like armand’s glowing orange eyes, they only move like this during times of his very heightened emotion. and uh…again: it’s a horror property (okay sure go for it, make him a very special supernatural boy) vs someone else layering emotion on top of an actor’s performance (ehhh do not love). the movement is so very exaggerated that, to me, it’s wildly in danger of parody (like the glowing orange eyes, which themselves had already slipped into affectionate fan parody), but so far the fandom has been very accepting. and to me, because nystagmus is a real thing in people that here is so wildly exaggerated here when he “monsters out,” it’s nails on a chalkboard. but i’m trying to accept it over time.

and then. then they subtly played with lestat’s eye color. did we decide that was to be a gentle indicator of dreamstat, to set him apart even more? i’m not mad at it (and hey, at least it is surely a practical effect), but when i’m already grumpy about them fucking with their eyes, i can’t not not notice that they are, once again, fucking with eyes here lol. but whatever with this one. if they stop fucking around with it now, i’m chill.

the daniel thing was kinda fun. at this point in my grumpiness i’m just like fuck it, nothing matters, give him magic colored eyes like an x-men mutant lol, i will just let it wash over me. maybe they’ll shape-shift next. i will recite The Litany Against Being A Book Purist like i’m paul atreides undergoing torture like the histrionic purist that i am lol

anyway, lestat’s eyes here are very beautiful. if they fucked with them with cgi i’ll be illogically grumpy about it. if it is a practical effect i will, irrationally, be very chill with it. (did you know the replicants’ eyes in blade runner were a practical effect?? fucking awesome.) I don’t know. something something being in the room with the actor during the performance vs enhancing his performance later via software. i’m just so goddamn pleased they’re not glowing.

I don’t know how to caption this but the amount of times I rewinded Lestat’s reaction when Louis steps closer is alarming

[faithshouseofchaos]

Something familiar — Lando Norris x reader x Oscar piastri

Word count— 1206

Fluff

Summary— after a rough emotional week you just want to eat something familiar with your boys

I wrote this last night while watching the movie.

You didn’t want to admit it, but the past few days had taken a toll on you. It felt like a storm cloud had settled over your head, darkening everything you tried to do. You weren’t sure why you felt so down—maybe it was a culmination of stress, self-doubt, and the weight of small disappointments—but it was overwhelming. So when Oscar and Lando found you sitting on the couch, eyes red and cheeks damp, they knew something was wrong.

“What’s going on, love?” Oscar asked softly, sitting beside you. His hand immediately found your knee, his thumb rubbing soothing circles.

Lando appeared a moment later, holding a blanket he must’ve grabbed from the bedroom. “Bad day?” he asked, draping it over your shoulders as he slid onto the other side of you.

You nodded wordlessly, letting out a shaky breath. You didn’t have the energy to explain; luckily, you didn’t have to. Oscar pressed a kiss to your temple, and Lando tucked the blanket snugly around you, their presence alone melting some of the tension in your chest.

“Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do,” Lando said after a moment of quiet. “We’re going to do whatever makes you feel better. Want food? A walk? A boxing match between me and Oscar? I’d win, by the way.”

Oscar chuckled, shaking his head. “In your dreams. But seriously, what do you need, sweetheart?”

You hesitated before murmuring, “Can we just… watch Spirit? I think I just need something familiar.”

Lando’s eyebrows shot up. “Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron? The horse movie?”

“Yes, the horse movie,” you replied, managing a small smile despite yourself.

Oscar grinned, pulling you closer. “Done. Whatever you need, baby.”

Ten minutes later, you were nestled between them on the couch, the movie queued up on the TV. Lando had insisted on making popcorn, though you had to stop him from adding his ridiculous “secret seasoning” of chili powder and sugar. Oscar brought over a cup of tea for you, handing it over with a kiss to your knuckles.

As the opening music played, Lando leaned in, whispering to Oscar, “So, is this like Black Beauty or The Lion King? I’m not ready to cry over a horse.”

“Shh,” you hushed him, though your lips twitched into a smile. “Just watch.”

Oscar nudged him. “No interruptions. She loves this movie.”

The first notes of Here I Am began, and you couldn’t help but hum along. Oscar noticed, and without missing a beat, he joined in softly, his warm voice a perfect counterpoint to yours. Lando looked between the two of you, grinning.

“Wait, is this a duet now? Why wasn’t I invited?”

“Because you don’t know the words,” you teased, smiling despite yourself.

“I can learn,” he shot back, then dramatically cleared his throat and belted out, “HERE I AMMMM!” His voice cracked on the high note, sending Oscar into a fit of laughter.

“Stop, you’re going to scare Spirit away,” Oscar teased, nudging Lando with his elbow.

“Fine, fine,” Lando said, holding up his hands in surrender. “But I’ll crush the next song.”

You shook your head, giggling. It was impossible to feel down with these two.

When Get Off of My Back came on, Lando was fully committed. He stood up, pretending to be Spirit bucking off his rider, singing dramatically, “WHY DON’T YOU GET OFF OF MY BACK?!” He even threw in a little kick for effect.

Oscar groaned, burying his face in his hands, though he was clearly holding back a laugh. “Why did I agree to this?”

“Because you love me,” Lando said with a cheeky grin before dropping back onto the couch.

“Debatable,” Oscar muttered, but his hand found yours beneath the blanket, giving it a squeeze.

When Spirit met Rain, both of them immediately leaned forward, invested in the unfolding scene.

“So this is a love story?” Lando asked, gesturing to the screen. “They’re just… staring at each other?”

“It’s called chemistry,” Oscar replied, amused.

You rolled your eyes. “Shh, just watch. This is the best part.”

As Spirit and Rain started running through the field, splashing through water and nudging one another playfully, Oscar let out a soft chuckle. “Okay, I admit, this is kind of sweet.”

Lando, on the other hand, was smirking. “Sweet? He’s showing off for her. Classic move.”

When Rain splashed Spirit, Lando mimicked her with an exaggerated, “Gotcha!” Oscar snorted but didn’t take his eyes off the screen, and you shook your head, trying not to laugh at their antics.

The real emotional reactions came when spirit was protecting a hurt Rain. The screen fell silent except for the mournful music, and you noticed Oscar’s jaw tightening.

“She—she’s okay, right?” he asked, glancing at you.

You nodded softly. “Just keep watching.”

Lando, on the other hand, looked visibly distressed. “No, no, no. He saved her! This can’t be how it ends for him.”

When Sound the Bugle began, Oscar surprised you by singing softly along with Bryan Adams. His voice was low and steady, the emotion in it making your chest ache in the best way. You leaned into him, closing your eyes as his arm tightened around you.

“Okay, why is he actually good at this?” Lando muttered, pouting. “It’s not fair.”

“You could’ve joined the choir too,” Oscar teased.

“Not when I’m already busy being the fun one,” Lando replied, earning another round of laughter from you.

By the time the movie reached the triumphant I Will Always Return, the three of you were singing together—not in harmony, but loud and unapologetically off-key.

When Little Creek freed Spirit to return to Rain, both of them visibly relaxed. Lando threw his hands up in relief. “Finally! Took him long enough to realize Spirit’s a hero.”

Oscar shook his head, his expression softening as Spirit and Rain reunited. “That’s love right there,” he said, his voice quieter now. He glanced at you, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You’re tearing up.”

You sniffled, smiling sheepishly. “It’s a good moment, okay?”

“See?” Lando said afterward, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “We’re basically Spirit’s backup singers now. We should tour.”

Oscar rolled his eyes. “We’d get booed off stage in two minutes.”

“Speak for yourself. I’m a star,” Lando shot back, making you laugh harder than you had in days.

When the credits rolled, Lando stretched his legs out with an exaggerated groan. “I take back everything I said. That movie was brilliant. The music, the action, the emotional depth… 10 out of 10.”

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “You just like the chase scenes.”

“Maybe,” Lando admitted, grinning. “But seriously, I get why you love it now.” He turned to you, his expression softening. “Thanks for sharing it with us.”

Oscar nodded, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “We should make this a tradition. Every time you’re feeling low, we watch Spirit—or anything else you want.”

Your chest swelled with warmth as you looked at the two of them. They didn’t have to do any of this, yet they always found a way to make you feel cared for. “I love you guys,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Love you more,” Lando said instantly, pulling you into his chest.

“Impossible,” Oscar added, wrapping his arms around both of you.

The three of you stayed like that for a while, the TV still glowing softly in the background. You realized then that no matter how heavy life got, you’d always have them to lean on. And for now, that was enough.

[torturedlexdepartment]

Sorry

Rafe Cameron x reader

Author's note: again, I apologize 💀

Warnings: ANGST, breaking up

Summary: after a year of trying to force feelings, you decide to finally break it off with Rafe

I stared down at my phone as I sat at the foot of my bed. Seven missed calls and an unfeasible amount of text messages from Rafe. I knew it was a bad idea to have the “this isn’t working anymore” conversation through text, but I was a coward. I didn’t want to have to look him in the face and explain myself. And now that he was blowing me up, I just wanted to run and hide.

I was just about to shut my phone off when I heard the sound of a truck pulling up outside. My worst damn nightmare. I should have figured Rafe would show up at my house the second I started ignoring him. I had known the man my entire life, how did I not think of this? I watched him out my window as he climbed up my steps and pounded on my front door. My car was outside so there was no denying that I was home. I sighed deeply before meeting him at my door.

“What the fuck Y/N? You can’t send that text then ghost me.” He pushed past me and I closed the door. I stayed turned away from him, not wanting to see his eyes beaming on me but I could still feel them. “Are you going to explain to me what you meant?” Tears started to well in my eyes and he spun me around to face him. His whole demeanor softened and he brought his hands up to rest on my cheeks.

“I just don’t think we should be together anymore.”

“Why?” I could tell he was trying to stay calm and collected and it just made this whole situation more impossible for me to bare..

“I just think we are better as friends.” He huffed as he stared down at me.

“All of a sudden? Out of nowhere Y/N?” What he didn’t realize is that these feelings of mine were not all of a sudden. I had always kind of felt this way. We have been friends for years and when he confessed his feelings for me, I thought I owed this a real shot. I thought I could fall for him and lord knows I tried. But how could I love him when I couldn’t love myself?

“I’ve always felt this way, Rafe.” He took a step back from me. I knew my words stung.

“Y/N, we’ve been together for over a year.” I closed my eyes, not wanting to let the tears start trailing down my face.

“I know and I’m sorry, okay. I tried.”

“You tried? What does that even mean? You could have said something after a month or two Y/N.” He started pacing around my living room with his hands up in the air, sometimes running them through his hair. I hated that I was making him feel this way. I could feel his fear and anxiety and it made me feel one hundred times worse.

“I tried to give us a real shot. I’m so sorry, okay.” He barely let me finish before he questioned me.

“You don’t love me?” I felt frozen in place. I didn’t want to lie but there was no way to answer this question without hurting us both more.

“I care about you and you mean the world to me, Rafe.” I tried to walk up to him, to comfort him. I reached for him but he pushed my hands away.

“Answer the question Y/N, because you know I love you more than fucking anything.” I took a deep breath. I didn’t want this conversation to have to go down this path but it was the only way he was going to get it.

“Rafe, you don’t even know me.” He stopped pacing and snapped his head to look right at me. He looked at me like I was a crazy person and I’d be lying if I tried to say I didn’t start feeling like one.

“I’ve known you since we were kids so how exactly does that make sense?”

“You know what I want you to know.” I was running out of ways to try and explain myself. I wished he could have just accepted what I wanted and left me alone.

“What does that even mean Y/N?”

“You know the parts that I’ve allowed you to see, gotten as close as I’ve allowed you to. You don’t know everything okay. I’ve barely allowed you to scratch the surface. And if we keep going with this, I’m going to let you dig deeper and then you’ll see the real me, and I can’t let it happen.” I finally allowed myself to be vulnerable with someone and I hated the feeling.

“Y/N, you’re crazy if you think that after all this time that anything you say is going to scare me off. I already see you regardless of what lies you’re trying to tell yourself.” I was getting unbelievably frustrated. He wasn’t going to stop.

“Look, you deserve someone that doesn’t have to question how they feel, someone who knows what they want.” I didn’t realize that he was walking over to me until I stopped talking and looked up. He leaned down to kiss me and I pushed him away angrily. “Don’t do that!” He was trying to convince me and I refused to let him change my mind. It didn’t matter how much I cared about him or how much I wished this could work.

“Y/N will you just stop?” He pleaded.

“I don’t love you, Rafe. Not the same way. And I don’t think I ever can.” As I said the words, I could literally see the light leave his eyes. He looked down at the floor and held his tongue. He was fighting back tears that he didn’t want me to see. We both stood there silently for a few moments before he walked past me, right out the door. I found myself aching to say something, but there was nothing left to say.

I walked over to my window and watched him speed off out of my driveway and out of my life. The only relief I had was knowing that he was now free for someone else to love. And one day I’ll stop wishing that it could have been me.

[madamechrissy]

Silent Serenades

♔ An arranged Marriage with Duke Gojo ♔

♔ Pairings: Duke Satoru Gojo x Duchess Reader

♔ Content/Warnings: TW: period sex scene, I'll mark if you wanna skip- angsty asf always but more fluff, A LOT OF SMUT THIS CHAP, cunnilingus, fingering, blow jobs, rough sex, dirty talk, name calling, low key breed kink, mentions of past cheating

♔ Word count: this chap: 12.2k

♔ 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

Comments and Reblogs appreciated if you enjoyyy <3

Part Eleven ♔ Masterlist ♔ Playlist

Part Twelve

“Please, don’t fight. Especially here.” You say softly, and the two of them look down at you, Satoru’s blue eyes are furious and Nanami’s hazel ones seem devastated, filling you with so much guilt you can’t stand.

“There are many people looking already.” Hiromi says, worried expression on his face.

“Then we’ll go somewhere else.” Satoru says through gritted teeth.

“Absolutely.” Nanami agrees, cracking his knuckles, your stomach feels sick as they start walking out, you follow them, gently pulling on Satoru’s hand, he grips yours in his, eyes now glassy as he scowls at Nanami, jaw clenched so hard you see a blue vein under his pale skin popping up.

“Satoru…” He clutches your hand then, looking at you, and you tense, preparing for a blow. Surely he’ll down you for what you’ve caused, surely he’s furious…

“I’m not mad at you.” He says softly, shocking you then, your jaw is dropped open, he’s letting you go though now that you all are literally in an alleyway, hidden from others. It’s dark and cold as he lets you go, walking up chest to chest with Nanami, leaving Hiromi to look back nervously behind you all.

“Nanami…” He begins again.

“How do you think you have any right to walk up on me and my wife, shouldn’t you be baking fucking cookies?” Satoru shoves him then, and Nanami laughs without humor, rolling up his sleeves to reveal the strong forearms. He’s way bigger than Satoru is, even though Satoru is very muscular, and you instantly fear for him.

“I do a lot more than bake cookies, your Grace.” Nanami says, shoving Satoru back now, but he barely moves, looming taller over him, rolling his own sleeves up now to reveal his veined forearms and clenched fists.

“Like trying to steal wives?”

“Steal, you didn’t even want her!”

You feel tears prick your eyes at the words, at the memories, and Satoru pauses for a moment now, brows together. “I always wanted her.”

“Sure you did, remember I was at that masquerade, and I was right next to your chambers.” His eyes dart to you now. “You had no problem having women scream, how do you have a right to act like some doting husband now? Having her afraid to eat a fucking cookie.”

Satoru pauses again, raking a hand through his hair, your heart is racing as you watch them, unable to speak. “I was terrible, but it gives you no excuse to literally take what’s mine. Do you know I can duel you for what you did to her?”

“It was her choice. She asked me.” Satoru looks at you now, and you want to sink into a fucking hole. “Several times. Over and-”

Satoru punches him then, right in the jaw, Nanami grunts, only to punch Satoru, instantly splitting his lip. Satoru licks the blood, laughing. “And she was an innocent girl, she didn’t even know what it was.”

“She saw you plenty.” Nanami punches again, Satoru ducks, you’re fighting the urge to throw up as Satoru pins him to the wall. “What, now you want her? Because I was going to marry her?”

“You never had a chance, baker boy. She never loved you.”

“And you think she loves you? She’s just young and naive.”

“She’s not naive, she knows what she wants, and it isn’t you. Unh…” Nanami punches Satoru right in the stomach, making him hunch over, only for you to run between them now, holding your arms out, glaring up at Nanami, whose strong chest is huffing up and down.

“Get out of the way, Duchess. I have more to say.” Nanami says, and you shake your head now. “You’ll protect him after what he did? He almost broke you.”

“I know he did, and I know you helped me, and Nanami I thank you for being there, but… I ended things.” You say quietly, he shakes his head, scowling over you, when Satoru’s hands come to your waist possessively, making him furious.

“So what you immediately did what I said you would?” He demands, eyeing you and raising a brow, you tremble now, feeling emotions overwhelm you.

“You don’t get to judge her. Mr. Fucks Married Women.” Satoru has you behind him now, shoving Nanami again.

“You hadn’t even fucked her yet, you mad I was first?”

“Really, stop!” You are pressed aside as Nanami is punched in the stomach by Satoru again, he punches Satoru so hard you hear a sickening crack, panicking. “Will you two-”

“Nanami, you can’t do this.” Hiromi says. “He’s a Duke.”

“And he’s a fucking piece of shit, who slaps women and downs them.” Nanami wipes blood off his lip, and Satoru’s furious, literally shaking.

“Yeah I was a piece of shit, but guess what, you’re no knight in shining armor, you took advantage.”

“Me!? I’m nothing like you.” Satoru pins Nanami to the wall now, as you and Hiromi look at each other.

“Can you get through to him?” You whisper, and he sighs, shaking his head as he looks down.

“He’s in love with you, how do you fix that?” You feel the guilt clawing at your heart as you look on with horror at them, at the man you couldn’t love enough, and the man you can’t stop loving.

“You are more like me than you think, I heard you, I saw you with her, and instead of killing you like you fucking deserve, I let you go. Now you’re coming up to me like this? Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“Someone who actually loves her, who cares, who wants to beat you to a pulp for how much you broke her. Do you know how far down she was? How she hated herself because of you? I knew her before you ruined her.”

“Ruined me…” You whisper, choking back tears, but of course they can’t hear with their own blood pumping in their ears.

“She’s not ruined, despite my efforts, she’s strong, and yes I was shit for it, but it’s not you who gets to come at me. She can.”

“She won’t, she’s too sweet and caring, she cares about you when she sure fucking shouldn’t.”

“Nanami, please just… talk to me.” You ask then, and he glances at you, clear hurt all over his chiseled features.

“You can’t truly want this.” He says, and you sigh.

“I do want to be with him, I’m sorry… but I do.”

Nanami tenses, glaring. “What have you done to her so quickly?” Nanami asks, and Satoru smirks then, leaning close.

“I don’t know, had her cumming all over-” Nanami punches him again, now Satoru’s stumbling into a wall, earning your glare.

“Satoru, really?” You demand with a hiss.

“You’re mad I had her first, aren’t you?”

“Nanami!” You glare now, Satoru’s enraged at him.

“You’re bragging about taking my wife’s virginity? When she was hurt and vulnerable-”

“Hurt by you. By you. Can’t admit it?” Nanami has him snatched up by his suit now, crumbling the bright blue fabric, clenching his fist again as Satoru struggles out of his hold.

“I admit it, time for you to admit your fault.”

“I don’t have any fault in falling in love with her, when you threw her away like she was nothing. Why wouldn’t I fall for her?” You hear the emotions in his voice, usually so composed, Satoru is quiet for a moment, stopping the struggle.

“You don’t even know her, of course you think you’re in love, she’s everything… she’s beautiful, she’s amazing, she’s sweet… she’s also a fucking mess, she’s reckless, feisty and short tempered. She cusses like a man, and she’s most importantly her own person. She didn’t choose you.”

“She’s too blinded by you, by your manipulation. Is this what you do, treat her like shit until you almost lose her?”

“I’ll never forgive myself for what I did to her.” Satoru says then, voice breaking, you can barely look at them, breasts heaving with your breaths, tears falling hot and sticky down your cheeks.

“And she’s forgiven you already.”

“She has, but I won’t forgive myself. And I won’t forgive you, for taking what was never yours, you call me manipulative when you did worse. You would sleep with a virgin-”

“Please stop!” You beg, but it falls on deaf ears.

Satoru grins psychotically now. “She didn’t like it, baker.”

“Oh, she came on my-”

“Now!” You shove at them both again, huffing and turning to Nanami. “Don’t, no more please.”

Nanami’s brows lower. “How can you defend him?”

“He’s… I… I love him. I do.”

Nanami is quiet now, as is Satoru, so quiet you can hear the blood rushing through your veins. You know this will hurt him more, but it’s going too far. “You don’t know what you feel.”

“Stop speaking for her, she can speak for her fucking self just fine.” You glare at Satoru now.

“That’s enough out of you, both of you. Acting like children, fighting over their favorite toy. Nanami, I know you’re hurt, let us talk. Stop this.”

“Stop fighting for your honor?” He demands, leaning down now.

“She doesn’t need you to fight for her goddamn honor, she’s no damsel in distress. She was happy this morning, for once.”

“As if you could truly make her happy. And no, no one should treat women like you do.” Nanami shoves at Satoru again.

“So is it your knight tendencies or did you really love her?” He asks, raising a brow, and Nanami’s seething now.

“Don’t pretend to know anything about me. How much has she cried over you, and your endless cruelty?”

Satoru blinks, white lashes trembling over his gaze. “Well I’m not cruel now, and I’m fucking trying. She is my wife.”

“For now.”

“Jesus christ. Nanami… come talk to me.” Satoru grabs your arm then, glaring at you. “Let me talk to him.”

“Touch her again and I’ll fucking end you.” Satoru says, and Nanami smirks, tilting his head.

“Oh will you now?”

“Enough!” You drag Nanami further down the alleyway, as he’s brushing himself off, and Satoru’s stomping away, Hiromi turns around to give you both privacy. “This is too much, you must stop this, I’m not worth your efforts.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Nanami cups your face, bending low.

“You mean to get killed!?”

“You deserve someone to fight for you, for what he did, it wasn’t right and you know it.”

You grip his wrists now, and something feels so wrong about this, about his hands on you, when just days ago you welcomed them. “I appreciate you, I truly do, but I don’t need you to fight my fights. I am capable.”

“Capable of being manipulated?”

You glare now, taking his hands off. “You’re hurt.”

“Yes I am hurt, how can you be…” He leans close now. “How can you be cumming all over my cock, how can I have taken your innocence, and then you just… you just…”

You feel sick now, barely able to stand the thoughts of what you’ve done, and how deeply he was affected. The memories feel so long ago when they just were days ago. “I shouldn’t have slept with you. I’m so sorry for it.”

“What!? No…”

“No I never should have. You’re right, I asked for it, and I never should have done it. I shouldn’t have kissed you that day, I should have been friendly and moved on. Because I’ve destroyed you, and I care for you so much. Watching you… like this… I can’t…” You’re sobbing now, covering your mouth and shaking, Nanami gulps, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

“I can’t regret being with you. How could I?”

“You should! You should.”

“All I can think of is you, and to see you kissing him. Happy? How the fuck can I be all right with this!?” He’s gripping your shoulders now. “I’ve never felt what I felt with you.”

“I don’t feel the same.” You’re speaking between sobs now, shaking your head as you hurt him more. “I never did, Nanami. I enjoyed you, I respect you… you’re handsome and perfect, I wanted to. I did. Wanted to love you like you love me, but what I feel isn’t enough for you.”

“How do you even know-”

“I’m in love with him, the undying love you think you feel. The need to constantly be with him, the consuming need in my heart. It’s for him, Nanami. I didn’t want you to be hurt more, but it’s true. I do.” Nanami’s eyes glimmer, and you hate yourself. “You deserve to be chosen. You do.”

“You’re foolish.”

“Maybe I am. But I love him. Despite it all, despite every terrible thing he did, I fall deeper every moment. I didn’t feel it for you, I felt… I felt affection, desire.”

“Just affection and desire?” He repeats, raising a brow.

“You’ll make someone happy. Someone who deserves all the love you have, and Nanami… you have to let me go.”

“Let you go?” His voice is broken, his handsome face just falling and you feel it like a punch in your stomach, the ties of your bodice tighter now, as if they’re strangling you. “Did this mean nothing to you?”

You shake your head, gloved fingers swiping at the hot sticky tears that fall. “No, it meant so very much to me, your kindness, your care… what we did however, I think I acted on impulse, I didn’t think it through. I was hurt. I should have never taken it as far as we did.”

He sighs now, emotions glimmering in his own gaze, cupping your face with one of those rough hands, thumb brushing a tear. “He is correct on one thing, I had a fault in this, I carried on with you. I let my desire cloud my judgement.”

“You have no fault here. He is merely upset, I’ve upset you both, hurt you both. I told you, it’s what I do.” Your shoulders shake with your cries, and he is tense now, shaking his head.

“No, I was at fault, you were so upset that day. I should have told you no, but I wanted you so badly. Then I wanted to make it right somehow, what I did. Do you know I would have given you everything? Anything you wanted?” You just nod, eyes closing, more tears falling. “It’s not what he can give but-”

“It is not about that, it never has been. I know you would.” You take his hand now, kissing it and resting your forehead on it. “It’s that I am not your person. Deep down, I think you already know.”

Nanami pauses, hand clutching your tightly, you feel his hurt through his every breath, and it stabs you and twists you in your heart. “I can’t just fall out of love with you. You can’t expect that.”

“I know. I know. But please, let it go. Please open your heart to someone who will not crush it. I’ll never forgive myself for hurting you.” Nanami gulps now, blinking rapidly, easing his hand down finally, still entwined with yours.

“You deserve better than him, I don’t care what you’ve done. I will let you live your life, you won’t see me again.” Your heart shatters into pieces as he backs away, knowing that someone you cared so much for is gone forever, but you know it’s what is best for him, you know you finally have done the right thing, ending it so he can move on.

But it hurts, fuck it hurts.

“Did you ever even care, I’m curious? Or was I just for amusement?” You sense his voice, he is more terse with how he speaks, and who can blame him?

“How can you say that! Yes I cared. But it wasn’t enough.”

“Just enough until he wanted you? Was it to get him to want you?” You’re shattering more at his words.

“You’re unexpectedly cruel right now.” You whisper, and he looks away now, hands clenching at his sides.

“I am curious about your motives, I mean no cruelty. Before I never see you again I’d like to know. If you used me to get him.”

“If anything I assumed it would make him hate me more, but no, I did it because you made me feel beautiful, desired, when I felt so unwanted. You made me feel special, seen and heard. You are a sweet, loving person, and of course I wanted to feel loved. But it shouldn’t have been at your expense. Why did you do it? Since we’re asking.” You say softly, his eyes lock back on you.

“Because I felt something for you, even that night we met.” His voice drops an octave. “Also, because I wanted to save you, to fix you somehow, you seem so very broken.”

“Fix me?” You sigh now, shaking your head. “I fear I’m no easy fix.”

“You certainly are not.” He takes your hand once more, you notice the blood on the backs of his knuckles. “I wanted to do right by you, I never meant to dishonor you, to just sleep with you on a whim.”

“I know you did. I never expect you to forgive me, but I hope you find happiness, I hope you find everything you deserve.” You say, and he has two tears fall, as he brings your hand higher towards his lips.

“I wanted you.” He kisses the backs of your fingers now, you can feel the gaze of Satoru behind you, Nanami’s eyes lock with his over your head now.

“I’m honored you did, I’m honored I knew you Nanami Kento.” You say softly, in between sniffles and cries. He tilts his head, a little softer, a little less angry, sandy blond hair falling just a bit over his furrowed brow.

 “I will let you go, and wish you whatever happiness you wish in life. You deserve happiness, whether you think so or not, Duchess.”

“Th-thank you, I wish the same for you Mr. Nanami. Truly, with everything in me, I hope for your happiness.” Your voice is hoarse as you hold back further tears, and Mr. Nanami bows his head, finally stepping away.

“Farewell, Duchess.” He tips his hat to you, surprisingly still on his head after the fight with Satoru, and he walks away, past Satoru now, who is glaring at him with unbridled fury. “You don’t deserve her.” He says tersely.

“I know I don’t.” Satoru says, his own voice broken completely, and Nanami’s shoulders relax just a bit. “But I’ll do everything to keep her.”

“Then do good by her.” Nanami looks at you one more time, and there’s no soft smile, no sweet eyes, they’ve gone cold, emotionless, ending you further when he leaves with his friend. Satoru’s eyes catch yours, and he’s on you in mere moments, as you nearly collapse.

“I’m horrible, I’m terrible, I’m-”

“You’re just a girl. You’re just a human being. Stop it.” Satoru cups your face, and his hands feel so calming, his presence somehow soothes everything inside you, and it had for longer than you care to admit.

Even when he caused your panic attack, you loved his soothing touch, his words. Being held by him even when you hated him, despised him. Now he comforts you for losing your lover, something he should hate you for, but there is understanding in his gaze, in his eyes, blue and glimmering, a cheek swollen, blood on his perfect lips, which you caress softly.

“Do you hate me?” You whisper, and he shakes his had.

“No, how could I ever? How could I ever hate you for doing what I did, for being pushed to. Even when I said I did… I do not hold anything against you. Him though?” Satoru’s eyes narrow. “He’s so clearly wanting what I have.”

“He will move on. And be better for it.”

“No one is better without you, Princess.” His words melt you, then you’re assessing him, seeing the injuries.

“You’re hurt. We need to go home.” You say, and he grins suddenly, an insanely huge grin, splitting his lip further. “Be careful!”

“You said home.” He whispers, pulling you flush against him now. You laugh softly, shaking your head, arms wrapped around his neck.

“Aren’t you furious at me!? In this situation?”

“Oh I’m furious at him, I want to kill him with my bare fucking hands, but you saying that it’s your home? That overtakes damn near anything.” He picks you up in his arms, as you cling to him, dangling like you’re nothing, his madness fucking infectious, you start to smile yourself.

“I need to take care of these cuts, so yes, let’s go home.”

“You’re so oddly calm, Satoru.” You murmur later, delicately cleaning the wound on his lip, on his eyebrow with a little cloth. Satoru’s sitting on a chair in the living room, there is no longer a table, Satoru’s gotten rid of it and ordered another, a pleasant and amusing surprise earlier.

“I’m getting nursed by this sexy Princess right now. I’m content.” You snort, shaking your head, beginning to tape his slice on his forehead closed, he flinches just a bit, so you blow on it soothingly, earning his hands pressing against the nip of your waist, squeezing, eyes on your decolletage.

“Are you staring at my breasts!?”

“They’re in my face. Yes.” You roll your eyes. “Are you all right?”

“Yes, I am. I feel terrible for what I caused…”

“He’s not innocent, he is a grown man, and knows what he got into. I think you put too much guilt upon yourself.” Satoru’s tongue laps out at your skin, right against your collarbone, you feel your body tense at it, tummy clenching in desire.

“I hurt him.”

“I hurt you.” You look down at his perfect face, his brows together, lips pursed just so, and his endless stormy blue eyes. Every moment makes you ache, every second he stares at you, you feel yourself falling impossibly deeper.

“You did hurt me. I think I hurt you in response, however, at his expense. He brought up that I used him.”

“He clearly was in love with you, I saw it all over his face.” Satoru says, hands sliding down further, until his hands are on your outer thighs, fingers pressing in under the satin skirts. “I don’t blame him for punching me, I’m furious because I hate that he touched you, but I can’t blame him. I’d have done it too.”

“You would not have!”

“I would have for you. Why did you have to lose your virginity to a boxer, do you know how bad my ribs hurt?” He says with a glare, and suddenly you burst into laughter, as does he, hand raking through his silken white locks.

“Oh, Satoru… at least you have not slept with a boxer.”

“Or have I?” He’s grinning deviously.

“You’re ridiculous. If it makes you feel better, I regret it very much.” You get on your knees now, gently unbuttoning his tunic, checking his bruised abdomen, he winces a bit as your fingers brush against his rib cage.

“Do you regret him being your first? I thought you did not.” He’s brushing your hair now, as you press a cool patch against him, he exhales in relief.

“I regret it, even if I still do not think you deserved to be my first. I still hurt another person, and I… looking back I don’t believe I enjoyed it much.”

“Interesting take, considering you let me know how much you loved sex.” You flush now, looking back up at his gaze.

“I embellished, to rub it in. I wanted to hurt you. Like you hurt me. You brought a darkness out in me…”

“I know I did. I know.” Satoru takes the cold cloth from your hand, setting it down now, bending in his seat as you kneel between his spread thighs, brushing your hair back delicately. “I still hate him for touching you, for having you first. I only did not kill him because I love you so fucking much. I know you care for him.”

“I do care. He is not a bad person, Satoru, he’s a good person.”

“Perhaps he is, but do you know what I realized?” Satoru’s thumb traces your lip now, swollen from biting it so much.

“What is that?”

“He’s not in your heart.”

“No, he is not. It’s got a rather slutty and whorish Duke overtaking it.” Satoru raises a brow at that, your fingers are caressing delicately where he is bruised, over his perfect muscles, flexing as he sucks in a breath.

“Perhaps you should make it up, your former lover punching my pretty face.” You snort then. “You think I’m jesting, bratty girl?”

“Indeed, you are. You deserved a hit for being terrible.” Satoru reaches down now, unbuttoning his trousers, his hard, thick length slapping his belly button, and you feel heat pooling between your thighs.

“Open your mean little mouth.” He orders softly, you shift on your knees as he sits up, obediently opening your mouth, for him to grab your hair, shoving his cock inside of it. “Oh fuck… your mouth is so…”

“Mmm…” You’re moaning as he is, sucking on his cock and looking right into his eyes, the most heady thing, his huge hands enwrapping in your locks as you suck him greedily, feeling him hitting the back of your throat.

“Take all of it, Princess.” He whispers now, and you pull back with a pop, saliva dripping in strings from his pretty tip.

“All of it!?”

“Relax that throat, you can do it.” You struggle to breathe through your nose now, taking more and more of him with every sloppy stroke, now he’s fucking your face and throat, and you can’t stand how good it feels. He hisses then as you sink all the way down, throat bulging with him, his hand touches it now. “That’s it, slutty throat, she can take me.”

You press even deeper, feeling him stretch and burn your throat now, nose flush against the thin white patch of his hair, he’s whimpering now, your eyes are watering, but you continue, sucking him, over and over, cunt dripping wet as your hands brace on his thighs for stability. You feel him thickening now, as he bucks up into your throat, rougher and rougher.

“Th-that’s it… Princess you… s’good, f-fuck…” He's falling apart, using your throat to bring himself closer and closer. “Bet he didn’t use you like this, bet he was all sweet, hmm?”

You glare and he’s lost it, cupping your face and moving more and more, mumbling incoherently.

“I’ll use your bratty fucking mouth, so you can’t talk, what do you think?” He slaps your cheek gently, you’re moaning more against him now, urging him on. “Fuck every memory out of your pretty head.”

You want to tell him, they’re already long gone, that all there is now is him, even when he’s speaking like this, it just makes you want him more, the duality of him, so dirty but sweet. Fucking you so brutally one moment to worship your entire body the next, calling you a beautiful Princess then a slutty brat. You want it all, you want every bit of the Duke.

“Going to drink up all my seed, aren’t you? Greedy little whore.” He mutters now, fucking your throat harder, you gasp for breath as he pummels it, reaching down to touch yourself, you’re so wet and needy. “No.”

Satoru yanks your fingers up like he did last time, leaving you to whine out, as he sucks on them greedily, continuing to pump your mouth.

“She is mine, only I touch her, unless I tell you to.” Satoru moans louder now, hips stuttering. “You’re so wet already I bet. Think I should touch you?”

You shake your head, sucking harder, saliva and precum dripping down his veiny cock, and his eyes are dilated, so dark, eyes lidded as he watches you suck him, throat hurting so bad tears are pouring. But you’re wetter now, grinding against nothing, wanting him so badly you can’t think, like he is fucking your brain, like he has been since you first kissed him truly.

“If you take all this cum and swallow I’ll touch you, greedy little Princess. Can you do it?” You simply suck harder, glaring, and he smirks. “Such a good- fuck!”

Satoru’s pumping now, all his hot gooey cum pouring down your throat, you swallow it hungrily. His cock slows now, backing away, throbbing as you swirl your tongue around it, looking into his eyes as you take him all. You’re gulping all of his seed down, lapping more and more up out of the little hole on his tip, now he’s panting, hands shaking.

“Oh my… you…” Satoru pulls out with a suctioned pop, his cock glistening with all of your spit. “Open up.”

You eagerly do, tongue out, and he moans.

“Fuck you took it all. Perfect, pretty, slutty Princess.” He picks you up off your knees now, bringing you against him, between his legs, cock still semi hard as it falls against his pelvis, nestled against his white pubic hair.

“Did I make it up to you, Duke?” You tease softly, coughing just a bit and rubbing your now sore throat.

“Oh you did. Took me so good, you’re so good for me. I want to be all you ever think about, I want to consume your fucking mind.” He whispers now, standing and looming so tall over you now, his shirt half opened, his pants undone, hair falling so messy.

“You stupid man.” He glares, as you do. “You think you don’t already consume me!? You think you’re not my every waking thought? You think you’re not my madness, my obsession?”

He gasps now, eyes darting back and forth across your face, hands squeezing your head so tight you wince. “You feel it too? The… insanity?”

“I feel it, Satoru. I’m insane for you, insane to be with you. You are all that is here.” You put his hand on your head. “And all that is here.” Now you put his hand on your heart. “And… all that is here.” You take it and press it lower, your lower tummy now, earning his molten gaze, slender nostrils flaring. “All I ever want is you.”

“You’re all I will ever want. You’re everything to me. Please, please stay, please…” He’s tearing up now, and you nod, feeling his every emotion.

“I’m not going anywhere, foolish Duke.”

“God I love you.” He slams his lips on yours finally, and you feel it, the blood pouring from his lips, you back away carefully.

“Your wound-”

“Look at you, covered with me.” He moans now, swiping the blood across your lips, you feel it so warm and you taste it, like copper.

“You’re fucking insane.” He smirks now, leaning forward again.

“I am, but so are you, Princess. Aren’t you?” You just nod weakly, and he’s kissing you again, taking over every part of your body and soul, you tremble as his tongue entwines with yours, tasting himself off your lips, now mixed with the bit of blood still falling. “You’re mine, all mine. Say it, Princess.”

“You just fucked my throat is that not enough?” He laughs, picking you up, wincing. “You should not, you’re hurt.”

“Fuck all that, I care not, I just want you to say it.” Satoru is now carrying you over to the chaise lounge in the room, laying you down, sliding up your skirts inch by inch, making you tremble. “Say that you’re mine.”

“I am yours.” You whisper, earning his two fingers sinking easily into your slick cunt, he moans at it, as you cry out weakly, hips arching up for him.

“Feel her, soaked from sucking me. Has anyone got you this wet?” He leans over you, fucking your gummy walls with his fingers, in and out, bringing you to the brink of pleasure so quickly, goosebumps scatter across every inch of your skin. You cling to his open shirt, shaking your head. “Only me, then say it.”

“Only you… and you… have you cum so hard… for anyone?” You demand, yanking him down and glaring, he shakes his head now, blue eyes on fire, touching you as much as those long fingers do.

“Never, no one compares to you. They are nothing. Nothing.” You cry now, as his words overtake you, words you need, words you crave. He’s slamming his lips back down your cheek, your neck, as his elbow bends and he fucks you with his fingers, loud in the manor with the squelching wetness of your cunt.

“I love you, Satoru.” You say between tears, he moans at that, forehead resting on yours, one hand cupping your face as his other presses up, hitting your spot, your back arches and you scream out.

“Beautiful, fucking love you. Love how you feel. Cum on my fingers, slutty Princess, please. Soak them.” He whispers against your lips, and his thumb hits your neglected clit, you shatter. “That’s it, good girl, good girl.”

“Satoru!” You scream now, burying your head against his chest as his fingers ease, you’re spasming around them, gushing arousal everywhere, body on fire with pleasure, so intense you feel like you’re floating. He sucks on his fingers, moaning now, before unlacing your bodice, revealing your breasts, which bounce out for his hungry eyes.

“All mine, every bit of you.” He says, and you descend further into the madness that is Duke Satoru Gojo, when he is suckking on a peak of your breast, looking at you under lowered lashes, mouth latched on tightly as he flicks his tongue, fingers curling up on your spot and hitting again, again, again.

You’re a mess as he’s sliding up your skirts, fingers circling your engorged clitoris now, your hands cling to his broad shoulders as he’s pressing you into the chaise lounge, firm cushions against your back, his hot mouth on your neck, suckling hard, leaving a mark that’ll be there for days. He’s taking you over now, all of you, and you never want him to let go.

Your breathing is erratic, and your eyes are rolling back as his hand works you, you’re so wet his fingers slip, while his teeth are sharp, grazing your skin and bruising, leaving a trail of his marks. “Want to mark you everywhere.”

“Mnh!”

“Everywhere. Your body belongs to me.” He says then, you feel him hard and hot against your thigh, and fuck you’re lost in him, lost in the feeling of his hand, lost in the sound of his moans in your ear, the breath tickling you and just serving to make your desire more and more intense.

Satoru kisses your cheek now, so sweetly, before he heads down to your collarbone, his hand moving faster as it works you so well, his thumb pressing harder, biting the thin skin over your chest, hurting and bruising you instantly. You’re so close, so close to the edge, your toes curling in your delicate slippers, fingers clinging now in his silky hair.

“Cum again for me, Princess, let me feel it, let me hear it, I want it all for myself.” He whispers, and you do, of course you do. Your orgasm hits so hard your hips buck back, getting so overstimulated, mouth wide open in a scream.

As your orgasm subsides, his hand slows, and he kisses you deeply, his tongue dancing with yours, cupping your face. “Satoru, please…”

“Please what, slutty girl?” He hums those words, taking his fingers off you and sucking on them, cheeks hollowing.

“Fuck me. Please.” You’re begging, but you truly do not care, you crave him so badly.

“Fuck you, hmm?” He teases, you pout. “You’re cute.”

“Satoru! I sucked you off so good, you promised.”

“You’re impatient.” Satoru’s stripping you of your dress now, then your undergarments and chemise, even your slippers, leaving you bare for his hungry gaze. “Let me take my time with you.”

You obey, when he’s looking at you like that, when his hands are trailing down your body, every inch, then you gasp as he flips and bends you over, pulling you up on your knees, making you tremble. You’ve not been on your knees like this, though the desk was quite similar, you peer back at him, he’s kneeling on the lounge, head low, huge hands spreading your ass apart.

“Satoru we haven’t… um…”

“I can see all of your pretty cunt like this.” He whispers, now spreading the puffy lips of your pussy, and the softness of his kisses up your thighs turn to something more urgent as he moves up to your inner thigh, and you feel his hot breath against your entrance, making you jerk and him chuckle. “So pretty.”

“Ngh!” You cry out when he kisses the slit of your cunt, his tongue darting out to taste you, making you jolt. His mouth kisses down to your clit, his tongue circling and flicking, making you gasp and whine out. “Toru!”

“That’s it, let me taste you, Princess. Let me taste how much you loved swallowing me.” He whispers, your eyes roll back at how good he feels, at what his fucking words do to you. Now Satoru’s huge hands hold your thighs open as you try to clamp them shut from the intensity.

You're so sensitive from his earlier ministrations you can barely stand his little teasing flicks, each one sends sparks through your body, you’re so weak you damn near fall apart from just a few, then when he’s burying his face into your cunt you’re shattering, back arching, ass pressing against his face.

“Oh, that’s it, arch f’me.”

"S’too much!” You cry out, but he just smiles against you, you feel the upturn of his lips.

“Just getting started, Princess. Let me reward you, you took my cock in that throat so good.” Satoru doesn't relent, no his tongue working you faster, his teeth grazing your sensitive flesh, when he bites down on your clit, the pain and pleasure so fucking blinding you cum right then.

“F-fuck!” You scream out, gushing arousal all down his face, you can hear him drinking you up, hear him slurping you as if he needs every damn drop.

You're on the edge again, and he knows it. He takes your clit into his mouth, sucking hard as his fingers slide into your wetness. You're so close, you can feel it building, and just when you think you can't handle anymore, he slams his fingers into you, curling them just so, and you're falling over the edge again, three of them stretching you beyond your limits.

“Please, please, please!”

“So desperate for my cock, hmm? Needy, slutty girl.” You just whimper, arching your ass out for more.

“Please!”

“Cum once more, I’ll give it to you.” He says softly, teeth nipping an ass cheek as he curls those three fingers, making your pussy gush when the orgasm hits, and you’re shaking violently, pussy pulsing around him. “Oh, you’re so ready.”

“Will you fuck me Satoru!? Or will you keep running your- ah!” Duke Gojo shoves his long cock in you then, curved tip smashing your cervix, making you shatter, cumming all over his cock so quickly, he laughs softly, hands pressing into the dimples of your back.

“Fuck you’re easy.”

“Just… just… fuck me.” Satoru moans then, slamming his cock into you, in this position it’s so deep you can hardly stand it, you’re already drooling when his tall body leans over you, overtaking you, long fingers of one hand wrapping your little throat as he fucks you so deep. “T-Toru…”

“Love that name from your perfect fucking mouth.” Satoru shoves two fingers in your mouth now, two that had been so deep in your cunt, you suck yourself off him, as he fucks into you harder, long, slow, powerful strokes that wreck you.

Satoru raises a knee now, planting a foot on the floor as leverage to fuck your pussy deeper, so deep it hurts, but you crave it, you need it, drooling all over his long fingers as his cock wrecks you. Your walls flutter all around his thick cock, dripping down his length, his balls smacking that overstimulated clit as he wrecks you, stretches you, fills you.

There’s nothing but him, you cannot even fathom that there ever was anything but this, as badly as you want to resent him, to feel hurt, it’s all too good, you with him, you around him, him inside you. And he’s not just inside your pussy, no he’s in you completely, feel him in your stomach, in your throat damn near, stroking your entire body with each thrust.

Your breasts are shaking with each one, jiggling just so, as your ass jiggles when his pelvis smashes against it, and now he removes his fingers, bringing you to your knees, choking your throat tighter. He’s looking right at you as you’re close again, squeezing the oxygen out of your throat, but Satoru has always done that, he’s always taken your fucking breath away.

“Feel s’fucking perfect, perfect pussy, perfect body.” He grips your tit with his other hand, squishing it now before smacking it, you cry out in pleasure. “You like it, me ruining you, don’t you?”

You can’t answer, you just arch up for more, raising and lowering your thighs, sinking your pussy down onto his cock, while his hands explore every inch of you. Your head falls back against his chest, hair splaying softly across it, Satoru should be sore, he’s been hit, but he’s fucking into you without a grunt of pain, only groans of pleasure while your slick pools.

You’re a sticky, sloppy little mess for him, and he relishes in it, quiet chuckles and then soft cries in each of your ears when he presses you back to your knees, pulling your hips up so he can fuck you better, harder, deeper. Impossibly deep, you hear the smacks of his skin while he does, while he relentlessly fucks you, tip dragging against that spongy spot in your walls.

“Fuck look at you.” Satoru smacks your ass cheeks, each one, over and over, marking them with his hand prints, thickening in your cunt now. “This won’t do, I need to see your face when you cum.”

Satoru has you flipped on your back so quickly you’re breathless, he’s laying over you, sweat dripping on his face, his blood dried against his pretty pink lips, eyes mad as they stare at you. He grabs your thigh, sliding it over his broad shoulder, the sole of your foot pressing into his collar bone, your legs are too fucking short for his long body.

“You are mine. Say it, Princess.” He says now, tip brushing your swollen clit, you gasp at it, hands sliding up to cup his face.

“I am yours, my Duke. Yours.” He moans, shoving his cock in your aching little hole again, even slicker and easier entry, his head thrown back, you watch the strong muscles of his throat and shoulders as he works over you, moaning. “You are mine, say it.”

His eyes lock, his expression serious, leaning lower, cock rocking against just that spot, making you tremble, jaw locking in pleasure. “Oh, I am yours, Princess, all fucking yours. I’ll do anything to keep you.”

“Oh… I want to stay…” You blink back your emotion when he lays firm over you, your breasts squished under his firm chest.

“If you did not, I’d chain you up in my dungeon. Keep you.” You scowl, and he grins, taking a breath. “What, I’d still fuck you all the time.”

“Y-you’re…stupid… ah!” Satoru fucks you so deep and hard you can’t tell where he ends and you begin, it’s all too heady and overwhelming, when his eyes lock on yours, and you’re moaning so loud with him.

“Keep your attitude and find out.” You clamp your cunt down now, laughing breathless as he lets out a strangled moan, pulling back. “Slutty brat.”

“Arrogant manwhore. C’mere.” You yank his mouth down to yours, and you kiss so sloppy, tongues entwined as you clutch his white hair, as he rolls his hips and groans into your mouth.

“Where do you want me to cum, Princess? Want me to fill your greedy little cunt up again?” You nod shyly, he smirks, even as his cock wrecks you, this motherfucker just smirks. “Fill your stomach up?”

He presses it now. “Yes, yes, yes.”

Satoru exhales now, pressing your leg up high and pounding your cunt so good, over and over, stretching you to fit him. “Made f’me, made… say it.”

“For you.” You finish weakly, finally he’s pulsing inside you, thickening and pouring all that hot gooey cum that had been in your throat in your cunt instead, he’s crying out as he does, mouth wide open in an O, as you cum just from feeling his hot seed coat your walls, shaking as you grind up against him.

“Feel so good around me, god you’re… I’ve never…” Satoru’s murmuring little nonsensical words in your ear, brushing your hair back as he bites your neck and groans, pumping his cum further and further in your sore cunt, that’s milking him for everything.

“I… I… love you.” You whisper now, breathy and weak, and he exhales, tickling your skin with it, leaning up just a bit and cupping your face, feeling your aftershocks gripping him.

“I will never deserve you, Princess. But guess what?”

“Wh-what?”

“I’ll fuck you so good you forget.” He smirks now, pushing his cum deeper, but your cunt is already making most of his cum drip back down his cock, his balls, down on this fancy chaise lounge.

“Conceited…”

“Can’t even finish your sentence. You love my cock too much.” You snort now, rolling your hips, watching him gasp.

“You love my pussy too much.” You counter.

“Oh I do.” He kisses you again, deeply, over and over, brushing his hands down your skin softly, he exhales now, easing as he studies you. “Does it scare you?”

“What, Satoru? The feelings we share?”

“No… if you’re with child… Do you think I’ll be a terrible father?” He’s emotional, you feel it, radiating off him. You shake your head, swallowing carefully.

“No, not at all. Satoru, if you do not wish to have children yet, we can stop that part, there are things I’ve heard I can take… to not become pregnant.”

He shakes his head, stroking your cheek, still nestled inside you, softer now, your body is wrapped around him. “I’m just terrified. I want to give you anything you wish for, anything at all.”

“But do not go against everything to do so.” You say softly, your hands caressing up and down his strong back. “You need not sacrifice everything for me, because of your guilt.”

“It is not my guilt that craves this.” He presses a hand on your tummy, hot and burning against your slick skin. “It’s something far more primal. But when I have a moment to think, I am still in fear.”

“Then we can stop for now-”

“But do you want children?”

“Yes, but… I can wait. This is new, and we are still young.”

“You sacrificed too much already.” Satoru’s voice is hoarse and emotional when he eases out of you, fluids dripping down between you both.

“I know you will be an amazing father, but I can wait. Do you want to give it time and see if we…”

“Could we?” You nod. “How soon would you know?”

“I will get my monthlies in a few days time, so soon we will know. We can be careful until then. I do not want you to be a father before you’re ready.”

“I just don’t deserve any of you.” Satoru whispers, kissing your forehead now, over and over. “I will be the best father I can be if you are. But I want to become better before I father a child.”

“You already are becoming better.” You smile up at him now, and he sighs, kissing your lips over and over gently, as you daydream about it, about a baby with him, it’s too soon surely, but it make you ache.

The next week

Opera house

“Satoru, stop!” You hiss out a whisper as you both are sitting in a box seat, up high watching the opera below. Satoru’s hand is slipping up your thigh under your skirts as you’re staring into the little binoculars, watching the depiction of Hamlet, your thighs clench with desire as he brushes up and down your skin.

He leans in close, mouth brushing your ear. “Then why are you so hot for me, hmm, Princess?”

His hand slips up higher, making you flush in the dark theater, you feel yourself gushing and he’s not even near you, so much it’s inane. You actually pause just a bit, as your tummy clenches, and you feel some twinge of pain, all while your husband, the Duke Gojo, has his fingers slipping higher and higher. You all had this box practically alone, aside from your parents and Satoru’s, and Suguru and Shoko.

Suguru and Shoko were actually courting now, which made you so happy, though Satoru had been so disturbed by the idea. Eventually he came to, since he no longer has to worry about his friend kissing you of course. They are leaning close, whispering and laughing softly, no one is really paying attention to the quiet movements Satoru is making.

But…

“I must… excuse me.” You whisper, earning a concerned glint in his bright blue eyes, you rush out of the box as you start to feel it, something pouring from you now, and it’s a tell tale sign.

You rush into a room, feeling Satoru’s steps behind you, cursing as you lift up your skirts and see it then, the stain of blood dripping, indicating you were indeed not with child. Satoru and you had been careful all week, as you both truly want to make it work, you want to bring a child into your home when Satoru feels ready. So why then, are you devastated!?

Why are you sobbing now, frantically grabbing several handkerchiefs, pressing them against you as you hunch over, tears pouring down your cheeks. You should be relieved, as this was too soon, Satoru and you were just now finally being good together, open and loving, and you know he was apprehensive, so you should be happy right?

You can’t stop the sobs as Satoru enters the quiet room, looking at you with concern, locking the door behind him when he sees you. His thin white brows go together now, striding in long steps to you, holding you by your shoulders and looking down at you now, realization hitting his face.

“Are you alright?” He asks softly, stormy blue eyes searching your face, eyes that you fall deeper into every moment you breathe. You quietly look down now, where your hand still presses.

“I am not with child. That is good… right?” You whisper, tears hot and burning your eyes as they fall more and more. Satoru sighs now, shaking his head, cupping your face with one of his hands.

“I would have been happy either way. Terrified but happy.” He murmurs, instantly relieving you, the tension in your shoulders dropping as you lean against him, crying on his dark blue vest as he strokes your back. “You wanted to be.”

“I guess I did, I did not truly know until now. Satoru I’m sorry-”

“No, no. Of course you want this, everything about you wants to be a mother, it is I who am afraid, it’s I who should give you it.”

“No, it’s fine, I swear. I just need a moment.” Satoru kisses you then, passionately, over and over, even as you’re holding the cloths against you, he’s tracing his hands down your waist, over the burgundy evening gown you’re in.

“I’m really just enjoying you for now, all of you. Maybe I’m a little selfish for wanting just you longer.” He murmurs against your lips.

“You’re selfish alright, whore of a man.” You tease, sniffling, and he laughs then, nodding a bit.

“Indeed I was planning to finger you right in the theater. You’re so dramatic, ruining my fun.”

“Oh!” You shove at him playfully, the cloths dropping, you panic as he picks them up, pressing them back against you, his lips parted now. “I’m so sorry! It’s so very embarrassing.”

“It is not at all. Let’s go home.”

“But-”

“Home.” His husky voice orders. “You are not merely just upset, you’re clearly uncomfortable, I’ll not have you sitting for another two hours. Now agree or I’m carrying you out and causing a spectacle.”

The thought of him carrying you in front of everyone just makes you smile, and he snorts, rolling his eyes.

“You’ve hurt your ankle, go along with it.” He says now, picking you up in his arms, and just as the intermission is started, Shoko comes up with concern, as does Suguru, and Satoru’s mom.

“What is wrong dear?” Satoru’s mom asks softly.

“She hurt her ankle, Mama. I’m taking her back home.” Satoru’s hands tighten just a bit as your mother walks up now, she has said nothing to you since he told her to leave you be, a blissful reprieve.

Your hands clutch his suit nervously, he feels it, the tension in you, as he holds you close against his chest. She says nothing however, turning her attention elsewhere. Of course she doesn’t care, but it’s better than what would previously occur. Your dad frowns. “Does she need a doctor?”

“No need, I inspected it, she’s just clumsy.” Suguru and Shoko share a look, then raise their brows at you as everyone says their farewells to you both.

“Clumsy hmm?” Suguru suggests, and Shoko laughs behind her hand.

“An excuse for you two to go back to your chambers.” Shoko says, and Satoru feigns a gasp.

“How dare you, scandalous woman! Sugu, get your betrothed under control.”

“Not his betrothed yet.” Shoko nudges Suguru with her shoulder playfully, her brown eyes assessing your face carefully. “Are you alright? You look as if you’ve been crying…” She gets serious then.

“I promise I’m fine. Um… feminine things.” You whisper now, and she nods quickly, Suguru smiles at you both.

“And Satoru’s being a gentleman? Never thought I’d see the day.” Suguru pats you on the head affectionately with a little smile. “All right we will see you two for dinner later this week, yes?”

“I can’t wait!” You say with a grin.

“Take good care of her.” Shoko says, and they head back to the show, Satoru’s nuzzling your cheek as he holds you so close to him, against his chest.

You catch a glimpse then, of Satoru’s old mistress Catherine, and she smiles at you nervously, looking at you both, she’s with a Lord that you cannot remember the name of. Satoru tenses, looking away and walking quickly, but you give her a little wave that she returns, as Satoru carries you to the carriage that is sitting out front of the opera house.

You shiver a bit in the cool night as he brings you in the carriage, sitting you sideways on his lap, making you tense. “Satoru…”

“How can you wave to her?” He asks, his voice hoarse, your eyes catch his in the night as the carriage gently rocks you both, his big hands pressing on your back and tummy as he holds you firm.

“She is a sweet girl.”

He laughs darkly then. “After how I carried on with her? How on earth can you just act so calm.”

You glare now, pulling off him, only for him to yank you back. “Because I will not let our past issues define us.”

“You should hate her. You should hate me!” You glare once more now, continuing to try to pull off him. “Do you remember? That dinner…”

“Yes, of course I do. But I don't want to!” You feel the tears start again, and he gulps, shaking his head, wracking a hand through his hair, making it all disheveled as it gleams in the night.

“You want a baby with someone like me? How!”

“You’re more than your past!”

“Stop being so fucking forgiving, so fucking nice. Will you… be angrier!? Punish me!” He’s shaking you gently, you see it then, the two streaks on his cheeks. “I hate me so much right now, seeing her. I could almost forget how horrible I was, the things I did, things you don’t even know.”

Your chest heaves with your emotions, taking you over. “I don’t need to know more than I do. What, Satoru, positions you two were in!? I care not, we were not in love with each other then. We are now.”

“I can’t forgive myself yet. Not for those cruel words, not for flaunting her around and saying you were adequate when you were so beautiful.” You cup his face now, struggling to control the sobs that are escaping, as you remember the pain. “Do not comfort me, damned brat.”

“You comforted me when my former lover punched you. Satoru we are both not perfect, fuck you’re far from it.”

“You have one lover, I can’t escape all of mine.” He leans his head back against the carriage seat, you try once more to pull away, earning his icy glare. “Stop trying to move, brat.”

“Your brooding is annoying.” He laughs then, even through his emotion, you smile tremulously. “You’re feeling so sorry for yourself.”

“No, sorry for you.” His hands yank at your hair, bobby pins falling every which way, making it bounce out of its coif, as his lips are barely against yours, you feel his every breath, shifting against him now. “You saw us, I remember.”

“I did.” You whisper back, and he lets out a breath, clinging to you, hand enwrapped in your hair, your own gloved hands cling to him.

“Even then, you were all I could think of, imagining your perfect body, your perfect pussy, how your face would look as I pleased you. Fuck I wanted you even then, and I never told you. I told you lies.” He presses his lips against yours, you’re thrown even further against him as the carriage jostles on a patch of dirt outside, soon you’re hearing the pattering of light rain.

It’s just you and Satoru, a man who did those things, they still hurt you, but you’re trying to move past it, but you see it now, it tortures him more than it tortures you, the pain of hurting you, of hurting someone he loves. You watch the toll it’s taking when he pulls back, caressing your face gently with long fingers.

“You wanted me then?” You ask, and he laughs without humor, nodding, pressing his lips against each cheek, sticky from your drying tears.

“I wanted you then, but I didn’t deserve you, I still don’t. I don’t deserve you being so kind, so sweet to me. I don’t deserve to look at your pretty face every morning, as if I’m in some goddamn dream.”

“I’ll decide what you deserve. I want you Satoru, I chose you.” He rests his head against your collarbone now.

“There will be more obstacles, more women. More… problems. I am not worth-”

“You’re worth everything to me. Now shut your mouth.” He glares, earning your grin now.

“Excuse me?”

“Shut your bloody mouth. Whiny man.” His hands press deep on your waist, and you’re giggling through your tears.

“You insolent brat. If not on your monthlies I’d beat your backside.” You smile now, snuggling against him, feeling desire hot and heavy.

“If not for them I’d love to be punished. I’m afraid I’m still very…”

“Slutty.” He finishes, with a grin finally, you scoff, shaking your head. “You want to be fucked even now, don’t you?”

“N-no! That would be scandalous. I could always please you though.” You suggest, hand trailing down his abdomen, as the carriage comes to a stop, and now you’re both kissing, tongues entwining, just the thought of pleasing him makes you undeniably sensitive, throbbing even.

Satoru has you inside and undressing you before you can think, inside his bed chambers now, you’re blushing then, shaking your head. “You can’t see me right now…”

“Hush, wife.” Satoru lays you down on the bed, on your back, naked now, caressing your bare breasts as he kisses down your neck. You gasp as his thumbs brush over a nipple, bringing it taut.

“Satoru, what are you thinking?”

“Thinking my wife is a wanton little brat, who wants my cock even now.” His whisper just edges you on, and you’re arching your back.

🩸Period Scene Begins- scroll down if you don't like🩸

“Do not tease me so! Let me just suck you off- Mmm!” Satoru’s kissing down your neck, sliding his jacket off as he does, you hastily unbutton his dress shirt, looking at him nervously, curiously, flush decorating your cheeks and neck, while he peppers you with kisses all over your breasts, your collarbone, your neck, his hands slipping down your thighs.

“Do you want me, Princess?” He asks huskily, lidded gaze when he pulls back, undoing his trousers, and you bite your lip nervously, sitting up, only for him to press you back down. “Not sucking me, do you want me inside you?”

“That’s… not what is done and madness… and…” Satoru has slid a towel from his nightstand now, lifting your ass and propping it right under you, smirking down as he leans up on his arms, you gasp when you feel his mushroomed tip kissing your soaking wet entrance. “Mmm!”

“She’s so hot for me, fuck.” He groans now, leaning on one elbow, putting your leg over his hip, your heel pressing into the strong muscles of his lower back. “Do you want me to fuck you, yes or no Princess?”

“But I’m…” You look down, squeaking, seeing the bright red blood on his cock, on your inner thighs. “I…” You cling to his bare skin, arching up now, eyes locking, watching his cheeks dust pink with desire for you. “I want you.”

He moans now, kissing, pressing into you, without any play it would hurt but you’re so wet with all the blood and desire he sinks in, gasping as he fills you, the warm liquid acting as lubricant, coating Satoru’s cock in red. He pulls back and you look at it, but his eyes just watch your face, caressing it, shoving his cock back inside you, your back arches.

“You’re so tight… holy…” He’s slipping further inside you as it starts to feel so good, you can’t even be embarrassed, by the blood mixing with his precum dripping on this towel, not when it feels so good. Not when the tension in your tummy is easing with every stroke, and he’s kissing you, crying out into your lips.

You cry out back, clinging to him as he’s working his cock inside your tight entrance, she’s greedy and hungry for more of him, and when his tip starts hitting your cervix, you fall apart, gushing cum all over him, mixing with the bright red. His tongue devours your mouth as he fucks into you so slow, so good, deep strokes, fucking you through your orgasm and pushing into another.

“Satoru!” You cry out, desperately, your hands slipping down to his strong muscles of his back to grip his ass, sinking him in more and more. “It feels so good, oh my-ah!”

His eyes are dilated now, as he’s fucking into you, slamming your cervix, you hear the squishing sounds as the blood flows, pooling between you both, but he doesn’t care at all, and neither do you. You can’t remember even hurting now, your tummy has relaxed so much, being filled with him. He eases back on his knees, hands on your hips, watching his bulge move your tummy.

You watch with him, seeing the creamy ring at the base of his cock mix with you, watching Satoru’s perfect abdomen coated with light trickles of your blood, his strong hand presses your tummy now, giving you so much pressure you scream out.

“Look at me inside you. Filling you.” Satoru’s eyes are mad now, sweat dripping down his perfect chin as he presses your thigh up high, feeling his cock deep in your pelvis.

“It’s s’good… th-thank you…” You whisper, eyes rolling back, as he grabs your waist, bringing your cunt down harder on his length.

“I don’t want you to be sad. I want… you… cumming…” He’s huffing now, tip dragging on that spot, and you do just that, screaming out your pleasure, as he fucks you harder, faster, overtaking your every sense.

“L-love you… sorry I… was… wish you…” You’re nonsensical, he’s tensing a bit, but he nods now, as he works over you, pumping even deeper, face resting an inch from yours.

“No saying sorry. Oh my God I wanna fill you up with me.” He whispers, and you crave it, desire it more than anything.

“Fill me then.” You beg now. “Please, Toru, please…”

He slams his lips on yours, pumping your pussy full of him, and you’re so full, with his cum, with your arousal, the blood dripping and mixing, you’re a trembling mess as he does, as you feel him release in you after a week of not. “God it feels so good, fuck you feel so… fuck I love this…”

Satoru’s crying out now, clinging to your body so tightly you can barely breathe, and you’re trembling from aftershocks, dizzy and weak, as you gently brush his shoulders with your hands. He leans up, eyes dark now, tracing the line of your jaw with his fingertips. You both stare at each other carefully.

“I’m terrified, but I want it. Want you round with me.” He murmurs, only making your pussy throb again, earning his hiss, as he pushes in once more. “You’re maddening, intoxicating, like some drug.”

“Me a drug!? You are the drug.” You kiss him deeply, over and over, and he smiles now as he looks at you. “What is it?”

“You’re so pretty like this. All cock drunk.” You glare and he chuckles. “It’s quite fetching on you, slutty bride.”

“Oh you’re so annoying! And perverted!”

“Says the woman with cum and blood dripping down her thighs.” His hushed words make you tremble, as he eases out finally, and you squeak, earning his laugh. “It does not bother me, Princess.”

“Are you sure?” You ask softly, touching your tummy. “My cramps are all but gone somehow.”

“They are?” You nod shyly. “Then we must always do it whenever you cramp, to help, you know.”

“Oh my… as if you couldn’t get freakier. Slutty Duke.” He snorts, cleaning up your mess now, but it’s truly too much of a mess. “I’m afraid I need to bathe…”

“I’ll have them draw a bath for us.”

🩸Period scene OVER 🩸

Soon you’re in Satoru’s arms, in the scalding hot water, his hands are dripping wet as they slip up and down your skin, kissing your neck gently, making you laugh as it tickles. You feel such a bliss, even knowing you’re not with child yet, there is much time and you are enjoying him far, far too much. He’s humming something softly, making you a little curious.

“What’s that song?” You ask.

“Something I’m composing. About a demonic little succubus.”

“Oh, I’m jealous!”

“Mmm, you know it’s you. No one else would make me compose a song.” Satoru’s hands rest on your tummy gently. “You addle my mind.”

“You have fucked my mind away I’m afraid.” He snorts in laughter, burying his head against your neck, his soaking white hair dripping against your cheek. “It’s fine if I’m not with child for a while, I’m sorry I reacted like that. I don’t want to pressure you into this.”

“There’s no pressure, I’ll second guess myself until it happens, and when it happens, I’ll worry I’m not enough.” You exhale, turning and looking up at him, reaching behind you to cup his face.

“You are enough. I promise.” Satoru moans softly, kissing you over and over.

“We could have had this, from the beginning, and not have had… others interfere with it. It’s all my fault.” You cannot find the proper words to soothe him, you just kiss him again.

“Just enjoy the moment.” He nods then, hand taking your face over, shoving his tongue deeper and deeper into your mouth, more passionate with every stroke.

“He could have never handled you. Too freaky.” He says against your lips, wiggling his brows.

“Me!?”

“Yes you. Imagine, he’d probably run in fright.”

“Oh you’re ridiculous, it was your idea!”

“Mmm, and I wanna go again.” He nips your shoulder. “I can never, ever get enough of you, I swear.”

“I cannot either, Toru.”

Three days Later

The Royal Palace

“I can’t believe we’re meeting the King!” You whisper to Satoru now, and he just smiles at you, as you all wait in the decadent hall to be introduced. King Sukuna had just taken over for his twin brother who had passed away, and not much was known about him yet.

“I hear he’s a dick.” Satoru mentions, you laugh but then quickly quiet as others around you both stare at you. “So improper.”

“Oh hush, you! I can’t believe he’s granting us an audience.”

“I’m a Duke, you’re a Duchess, of course he is. Now relax, or I’ll get very jealous, you so excited for another.” You glare up at him, and he’s grinning so big, it warms your heart, it warms everything, to see him so happy, so lit up.

You adore him so much.

It’s quiet now as the King walks in, he’s joined by his younger sister, Princess Uraume, who has short white hair and is lovely in an ethereal sort of way that’s entrancing. King Sukuna himself is tall and broad, with a giant smirk and shocking light pink hair. He’s so big it’s intimidating, his sister is so tiny next to him, but then you notice who is with her, as a lady-in-waiting.

Your heart stops right in your chest, Satoru’s hand grips you so tightly you can scarcely breathe, as King Sukuna looks at you, up and down, taking his time with each inch, making you almost forget who is with his sister. She looks at you, her eyes, your eyes almost, in shock as she meets your gaze.

It’s like looking in a goddamn mirror.

“Duchess, it’s an honor to drink in your beauty, as beautiful as everyone has said across the land.” King Sukuna says, and you rip your eyes off her, as she and Satoru glare at each other. King Sukuna kisses the back of your hand, breath hot on your skin, looking up at you with dark brown eyes, almost crimson.

“Your Grace, it is my honor.” You manage to whisper back, curtseying low over his hand, earning his chuckle.

“No need for such formalities.” He does not let go of your hand, lewdly staring at you with a brow raised, then looking at Satoru, who’s frozen like a statue in shock, as he can’t rip his angry gaze off the woman who looks just like you. “Ah, the resemblance is uncanny, is it not? There must be a relation?”

“There must be. Hello there.” You say to her now, and she smirks, cruelly in fact, assessing you.

“Adelia. Hello your Grace.” She says, her voice is nothing like yours, it’s cold, it’s calculated, as is her entire demeanor.

“And Princess Uraume, hello.” You curtsey to her, she nods just a bit, staring at you curiously as well.

“Greetings, Duchess.” She says softly, and you finally look at Satoru, who squeezes the glass in his hand so hard it shatters, making the room go quiet.

Your heart is breaking as you watch him, as you feel his tension, and suddenly it’s as if everything could go wrong, your short found happiness. What if he still loves her!? What if he’ll hate you again!? What if…

What if…

Suddenly it’s as if you cannot breathe, you feel it, overtaking your chest, tightening your throat, and King Sukuna holds you carefully, concern in his formerly amused gaze as he looks at your face.

You can’t breathe.

A/N: This chap was a fkn DOOZY, Say hi to King Sukuna and bitch ass Adelia lol <3 Did you think we were done w/this story yet!? No lol. Please leave a comment if you enjoyed, or a reblog, they help so much. Ty for reading this one!!!!

Taglist: @kalopsia-flaneur @bunheadusa @7thsthings @disilluzions  @antisocialinlw @Sukunassfinger @lelsforlino @heeknow @muvasuperior @prince-wyiilder @lavender-hvze @ssetsuka  @labelt-san  @sadmonke @philiatothephobia @ambiguouslady42 @stromynight @dreamygirli3 @jazlenekasi @victoriaaaa00 @wuvnada @valleydoli @nanasukii28 @sw3etnena @dark-agate @tamaki-simp @yuuuumii @givluv2tyy @airandyeah @chiyokoemilia @webshooterrr9 @miizuzu @thikcems @erensblackwife @murayamayoshiki-lovergurl @blue-musingss @huuuhwhaat @makingtimemine @saccharinesatoru @sunnyviewsblog

Tagging the rest in the comments!!

Until Next time, Dear Masochistic reader

[promise-you-doie]

From Home | Jung Jaehyun

For all the valentines who wanted Jaehyun to win the cold war between him and Doyoung. I hope this alternative ending fufils your every need.

Under 1k words I think

Jaehyun x reader (Exes to Lovers)

A little angst lots of fluff

Home Series

"Drive safe." You stop at the door, and Jaehyun halts mid-step, turning back to look at you.

"You’re not coming?" he asks, brows furrowing slightly.

You shake your head. "I don’t want to leave him alone."

Jaehyun presses his lips together, the disappointment flickering across his face unmistakable, but he doesn’t push. "Okay," he says softly. He leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek. "I’ll call you. Goodnight, baby."

"Goodnight, Jaehyun," you murmur faintly, watching as he walks to his car. The sound of his engine starting and the sight of his taillights fading down the driveway linger in your mind as you close and lock the door.

Dragging yourself upstairs to your bedroom, you exhale deeply, fingers brushing back your hair. The weight of the day settles in your chest like an anchor.

Doyoung is seated on the edge of your bed, his posture tense but his expression unreadable. He glances up as you enter, offering a small, tired smile that you attempt to return.

"Hey," he says softly, tugging lightly on your wrist as you approach, gesturing for you to sit on his lap.

You don’t move, sinking onto the bed next to him instead, your body heavy with exhaustion. There was a time when his touch brought you solace, but now, not even the memory of that comfort could quiet the chaos in your mind.

"How do you feel?" he asks gently, ignoring the growing space between you.

"Tired," you breathe, your fingers brushing through your hair.

"You can talk to me," Doyoung urges, scooting closer.

You inch further away, avoiding his gaze. "I just… I’m really tired, Doyoung. I need to sleep." You sigh, glancing toward the window instead of meeting his eyes. "We both need to sleep."

"Actually," he says, his voice steady but firm, "I think we need to talk." His hand gently turns your face toward him.

You grab his wrist, lowering his hand. "Where do we even start?"

"Let’s start with the fact that you left without saying a word. Did you think ignoring me would make everything disappear?"

"I’m not good at this," you reply, your voice low. "You know that. It’s how we got here in the first place."

"We can’t ignore it either." He moves closer, his presence unrelenting, his gaze sharp.

"I slept with him." The words leave your mouth before you can stop them.

Doyoung freezes, his face unreadable, though a flicker of resignation flashes in his eyes. Like he already knew.

"And I still love him," you add, barely above a whisper, your hands twisting in your lap as you avoid his gaze.

His voice is quiet when he finally speaks. "So… what does this mean?"

"I think you know what it means." You stand, wrapping your arms around yourself as you face him. "I love you, Doyoung. But Jaehyun and I… we—"

"I was there for you when he wasn’t," Doyoung interrupts, rising to his feet and taking your hands in his.

"I know," you say, your voice trembling. "I was broken, and you were there to catch me. I fell in love with you because you gave me what I needed. But I never stopped loving him." You meet his gaze, tears stinging your eyes. "He knows me in ways you don’t. There’s a connection between us that I can’t ignore, no matter how much I tried."

Doyoung nods slowly, his expression softening. The silence between you is deafening. He releases your hands, his own rising to cup your face.

"I love you," he says quietly, his thumbs brushing soft circles against your cheeks. "And I wish you nothing but the best. I’m sorry I couldn’t make us work out.” 

You shake your head, your lips trembling. "Don’t say it like that."

He leans in, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before pulling you into his arms one last time.

"Goodnight," he whispers as he steps back, his hands falling to his sides before he walks to the door.

You watch him go, his figure disappearing down the hall as he leaves your room.

Something feels different. Maybe it’s relief. Maybe it’s heartbreak. Maybe it’s both. All you know is that tomorrow is going to be one hell of a day, and for now, you just need to sleep.

"Good morning!" Joy chirps the second you answer your phone, her voice bright and bubbly. "So, what happened?"

You press your lips into a thin line. "I should’ve known you had something to do with this."

"I knew exactly what I needed to do to set you straight," she replies smugly, a playful smile lighting up her face on the screen. "So? Spill. How did it go? When are you guys coming back?"

"Umm…" You rub your forehead, the weight of the conversation from last night pressing down on you. "I’m assuming Doyoung probably took the next flight back, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s already home."

Joy’s smile falters, confusion creeping onto her face. "What do you mean? Where are you? Why aren’t you together?"

You take a deep breath. "We broke up."

Joy blinks, her expression going blank for a moment, and then she asks, her voice laced with confusion, "Well, yeah. You guys were on a break, I get that. But that was just until you got back to LA. Then you’d get back together, and everything would go back to normal."

"No," you say, shaking your head slowly. "We’re not getting back together. We talked last night, and… seeing him again made me realize it’s not the same anymore."

"What’s not the same?" she presses, her tone a mix of curiosity and disbelief. "You haven’t been apart for that long."

"I don’t care about him the way I care about Jaehyun." Your voice softens, trailing off like you’re ashamed to admit it out loud. "I love Doyoung, but it’s not the same kind of love I have for Jaehyun."

There’s a long pause on the other end of the line. You can practically feel Joy’s internal struggle, and when she speaks again, her words come out slow, like she’s carefully choosing them. "Obviously, I’m not thrilled about this," she says, her voice tight. "But it’s your life, and you’ve got to do what makes you happy. If… Jaehyun’s who makes you happy," she falters, unable to say his name without a moment's hesitation, "then I won’t stand in your way."

"Thank you," you say, a genuine smile breaking across your face.

"You’re still coming back, though, right?" Joy asks, her tone a little lighter now.

"Yes, I’m definitely coming back," you assure her with a nod. "I can’t stand another day in Connecticut."

"Good," she says, perking up. "I missed you so much. I’m giving you the biggest hug when you get here."

"I missed you too, Joy," you reply, your voice soft with emotion. "You have no idea."

"Well," she says with a sigh, "I’ve got to run, but… I love you. I’ll see you when you get here, okay?"

"Love you too," you reply just before the call ends.

Not a second later, your phone buzzes with a text from Jaehyun.

Jaehyun: I’m outside. 

You rush to your window, and sure enough, Jaehyun is standing next to his parked car. A smile creeps onto your face as you take a deep breath and head to the door.

“You’re early,” you say, opening it to greet him.

He shrugs lightly, his gaze meeting yours. “You didn’t answer my call last night. I couldn’t sleep.”

“I’m sorry,” you say softly, shoving your hands into your pockets. “I was so tired, I just passed out.”

Jaehyun’s eyes flick to your bedroom window before returning to yours. “So… is he here?”

You shake your head. “No. He left last night.”

His jaw tightens slightly, but he nods. “I’m guessing you two talked.”

“We did.” You pause for a moment, then say it outright. “We’re not getting back together.”

The corner of Jaehyun’s mouth lifts, his dimples deepening as his smile widens. “Thank god,” he says, stepping closer and leaning down to press a firm kiss to your lips.

You smile against him, your heart skipping a beat as you pull back slightly.

“So… we’re still on for LA?” he asks, his voice hopeful.

“Why wouldn’t we be?” you tease, grinning before leaning in for another kiss.

1 month later 

You step into the empty apartment, Jaehyun’s hand clasped softly in yours. Your heels click against the smooth hardwood floor, the sound echoing in the silence. With each step, you feel the weight of the new chapter you’re about to begin, the new memories you’ll make. Jaehyun’s fingers are warm against yours, and the quiet intimacy of the moment wraps around you like a soft blanket.

As you walk through the space, your mind starts to drift. You imagine staying up late on the couch together, laughing through cheesy movies. You picture cooking meals in the kitchen, Jaehyun at the stove while you chop vegetables beside him. You can almost hear the crackle of the vinyl player as it spins your favorite songs, the two of you slow dancing around the room with no care for time.

You think about mornings—waking up next to him, your feet tangled in the sheets, the sunlight streaming through the windows. You imagine the little arguments over the thermostat, his warm hand on your back as you work at your desk, the quiet moments that will fill the walls with life.

This apartment, this space, is where all of your dreams will come true. It’s where you’ll build your home.

Turning on your heel, you walk backward, your fingers still intertwined with Jaehyun’s. He watches you, a small smile on his lips.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, his voice soft and steady.

You smile, leaning in closer to him, your lips brushing against his cheek as you speak. “I’m thinking about how much I love you,” you say, your heart swelling at the simple truth of it.

His eyes soften as he leans down to kiss you, gentle and slow, like he’s savoring the moment. “I’m thinking about how I made the right decision,” you murmur, kissing him again, your lips lingering on his.

You pull back, meeting his gaze. “I’m thinking about how I can’t imagine this without you.” Another kiss.

Jaehyun pulls you closer, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist. “And I’m thinking about how I’d choose you again and again and again,” you whisper, your heart racing as he presses his lips to yours once more.

Jaehyun’s smile is bright, his hands warm as he lifts you off your feet, kissing you deeper, spilling all the love he couldn’t give you while you were apart. You laugh softly against him, and before you know it, you slide off him, grabbing his hand and tugging him toward the window.

The city sprawls out before you, Los Angeles glittering below like a sea of stars. Jaehyun stands behind you, his arms slipping around your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder. You lean back into him, the rhythm of his heartbeat against your back steady and comforting.

For the first time in a long time, you feel at peace. You’ve finally made that little girl inside of you proud. You’ve achieved all of the dreams you had when you were eighteen—your dream apartment, your life in LA, and the man who has always been there for you, right by your side.

You tilt your head slightly, looking up at him. “We’re gonna be okay, right?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jaehyun kisses your cheek, his lips soft against your skin. “There’s no other way,” he says, his voice full of certainty.

The end for real this time.

[snowysosturn]

Allies or Affiliates? - Chris Sturniolo Part 16

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

Pairing : Y/n x Chris Sturniolo

Summary : Law student Y/n’s life takes a turn when she reconnects with Chris, her brief teenage flame who is now a dealer for a dangerous Boston drug gang. As their bond reignites, Y/n is drawn into Chris’s tumultuous world, where rival gangs clash and loyalty is everything. Balancing her love for Chris with her own ambitions, can their connection survive the chaos that threatens to pull them apart?

Warnings : WARNINGS WILL GIVE SPOILERS !!! MDNI, mentions of drugs, selling drugs, angst, cursing, mentions of death, guns, shooting

Chris’s POV

I didn’t wake up until 3pm, sunlight streaming through the blinds, casting long shadows across the room. My body ached like I’d been hit by a truck, but the heaviness wasn’t just physical, it was mental too. The events from last night lingered in my mind like smoke, refusing to clear.

Reaching for my phone on the nightstand, I saw a notification from Y/n, her name lighting up the screen. She’d replied to my late night text at 7am , like the early riser she was:

"Probably won’t be finished until 6, but I’d love to meet you after! Can’t wait. xx"

A grin spread across my face as I read her message. Y/n had quickly become the best part of my life, the one constant that kept me grounded in the midst of the chaos. Knowing she wanted to see me, even after last night when I’d left her house abruptly, made me feel.. normal. Like I was just a guy with a girlfriend, looking forward to dinner or a drive. Not a dealer. Not someone neck deep in this life.

But then my mind shifted, and I couldn’t help but think about Nate. He’d been heavy on my thoughts since the funeral, and not just because of Danny. After last night’s incident at the docks, I wondered if he knew what had happened. Did Vince fill him in? Did he know I’d gotten into a fight with an H Block, or was he still in the dark?

I sat up, tossing my phone on the bed and running my hands through my hair. I needed to see him. Nate wasn’t the type to reach out, even when things got tough, but I couldn’t let him spiral alone. The weight of Danny’s death was already crushing enough. Add in everything else going on with the cartel, and I knew he was probably close to his breaking point.

Grabbing my jacket, I slipped on my sneakers and headed out the door. Driving to Nate’s place, I tried to clear my mind, but the tension in my chest wouldn’t go away. I kept thinking about last night, the way I fucked up that H Block guy, the adrenaline that surged as Vince encouraged me to keep going. That’s what haunted me most. I’d crossed a line, one that was getting harder to ignore.

When I pulled up to Nate’s place, something felt.. off. I spotted a black sedan parked a couple of houses down, its windows tinted. It wasn’t a car I recognized, and that alone was enough to make me suspicious. Nate’s neighborhood wasn’t exactly known for flashy cars, most of the people here drove old Hondas or pickups.

I stayed in the car for a moment, watching. No movement. No one got in or out of the sedan. Maybe someone swung by to pay respects to Danny. Maybe it was a cop since Danny’s death was now a murder investigation, after all. Or maybe it was something worse, like someone from H Block scoping out Nate’s place.

Shaking my head, I grabbed my phone and sent Nate a quick text:

"I’m outside. Want to go for a ride?"

No reply. I waited a minute, then another, my fingers drumming on the steering wheel. Finally, the front door creaked open, and Nate stepped out. The sun was low on the horizon, casting the street in an orange glow as he walked toward the car. He looked rough, dark circles under his eyes, his shoulders slumped like the weight of the world was crushing him.

I nodded at him, and he climbed into the passenger seat without a word.

“What’s up?” I asked as we pulled away from the curb.

He shrugged, staring out the window. “Not much.”

I glanced at him, trying to gauge his mood. “You look like shit, man.”

He huffed a humorless laugh. “Yeah, well, it’s been a shit week.”

“How you holding up?” I asked, trying to break the silence.

Nate shrugged, still not looking at me. “Same as you’d expect. Just tired of everything.”

I didn’t push him, giving him a moment to collect his thoughts. After a minute, I asked, “You figure out who it was that tried to make the hit at the funeral?”

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Yeah. But no idea who he’s connected to. Guess he thought he’d make a name for himself, going after us at Danny’s funeral of all places.” He paused, clenching his fists. “But he’s gone now. Fled the city. No one can find him, but I’m not worried. He’ll show his face eventually. When he does, I’ll handle it.”

I didn’t doubt that. Nate wasn’t the kind of guy to let things go, not when it came to family.

“What about Danny?” I asked carefully, keeping my eyes on the road as I drove. “You guys got any leads on his murder? Pieced together what happened that night?”

Nate leaned back in his seat, running a hand over his face. “Not much, but Vince gave me some details. Danny was found outside the warehouse at the docks.” He turned to look at me, his face grim. “Vince was one of the first on the scene, but he couldn’t stay. He got some of the guys to move Danny’s body before the cops could get there and start poking around.”

My stomach twisted. “Why’d they move him?”

Nate scoffed, his tone bitter. “Why do you think? The warehouse is full of supplies. Cops start sniffing around there, and it’s game over for us. Vince didn’t have a choice. Told everyone to play it like Danny was shot somewhere else, that they drove him to the hospital but died on the way.”

I tightened my grip on the wheel, my knuckles going white. The thought of Danny’s body being dragged around like that made me sick.

Nate continued, his voice low and cold. “Hospital bought it. Cops bought it too, at least for now. They think he was killed in the middle of nowhere. But we know the truth.”

The weight of his words hung in the air, suffocating. My mind raced, piecing together the events. “Say it was one of those H Block fucks” I said, my voice coming out harsher than I intended. “What if someone from their crew was trying to break into the warehouse and Danny just happened to be there at the wrong time?”

Nate frowned, turning to me with suspicion. “What makes you say that?”

I hesitated, debating whether to tell him the truth. “Because I ran into one of them there last night” I admitted, my voice low. “Caught some guy trying to steal our supplies. Vince told me to handle it, so I did. But it makes sense, doesn’t it? If they’re getting bold enough to hit the funeral, they’d try the warehouse too.”

Nate’s jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened with anger. “You think it’s connected?”

“I don’t know” I admitted. “But it feels too close to ignore.”

Nate didn’t say anything for a while, his gaze fixed on the horizon as the sun dipped lower. “We’ll find out” he said finally, his voice hard. “One way or another, we’ll find out who did this. And when we do..”

He didn’t finish the sentence, but he didn’t need to. The fury in his voice said it all.

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. The weight of what had happened was sinking in deeper, but I couldn’t let it consume me. Not now. Not when there was still so much left to unravel.

"Wait, the fuck were you doing at the docks last night? Thought you had a dinner to attend?" Nate says, raising an eyebrow as I pull into a gas station.

I sigh, pulling the car to a stop near the pump. "And I did attend that dinner" I reply, stepping out. "But Vince pulled me out early. Needed me for a run. Ended up partaking in a physical fight, too. Exactly how I wanted to spend my Thursday night."

Nate lets out a dry laugh, leaning back in his seat. "Makes two of us in physical fights last night. At least I didn’t get my lip split open." Nate smirks, grabbing at my face.

I smirk, rubbing my thumb over the slight sting still lingering on my lip. "I thought you said the guy fled town? Who the hell were you fighting?"

"Three H Block runners" Nate says nonchalantly. "Teenagers. Just needed to let some anger out. Came out without a scratch."

Typical Nate. I chuckle under my breath, shaking my head as I open the door and step out of the car. He doesn’t do things halfway. I start pumping gas, my mind replaying the fight from last night. As much as I wanted to forget it, the tension wouldn’t leave my body.

After filling up, I walk into the convenience store to pay. The fluorescent lights buzz above as I hand over a twenty and grab a bottle of water for the road. Stepping back outside, my eyes instinctively scan the lot.

That’s when I notice it. a black sedan parked by the pumps a few spaces away. It’s the same type I saw near Nate’s house earlier. My stomach twists.

Has to be a coincidence, I think to myself, trying to shake off the paranoia. Now that I’ve seen one, I’m probably just noticing them everywhere.

The thought lingers, though, as I slide back into the driver’s seat. I glance at the time. 5:30pm. Almost time to pick up Y/n.

"You need me to bring you anywhere before I drop you off?" I ask Nate casually, adjusting my rearview mirror.

"Where you headed?" he asks, cracking his window and lighting a cigarette.

"I'm picking my girlfriend up at six." I say, sliding it in with just the right amount of smugness.

Nate’s head snaps toward me so fast I almost laugh. "Girlfriend?!" he repeats, his tone a mix of disbelief and amusement. "You kept that quiet."

I grin, knowing exactly how surprised he must be. "Didn’t come up."

He shakes his head, a sly smirk creeping onto his face. "Man, you soft now, huh?” 

“Maybe” I chuckle. “But if any questions are ever asked about this, say you and I got into it okay?” I say pointing at my lip.

“Is that what you told her?” Nate raises an eyebrow.

“Yeah man, couldn’t tell her I had someone pull a knife on me. She’d flip. She doesn’t know about the whole incident at the funeral, fuck, she didn’t even know about the funeral. You love to carry a knife on you too, so it check out in my brain.” I say shaking my head.

“God you’re in this thing a couple weeks and couples therapy is already calling.” Nate laughs.

Y/n’s POV

The courtroom had been stifling all day, and I was practically counting the minutes until I could leave. My phone buzzed just as I was tucking my notes and books into my bag.

"I'm out front. Take your time x."

A smile broke across my face as I read Chris’s message. This day had dragged on relentlessly, and I couldn’t wait to see him. Just the thought of being in his company made everything feel lighter.

I made my way out of the courtroom and through the courthouse doors, the crisp evening air hitting me as I spotted Chris’s sleek Mercedes parked at the curb. He looked out through the passenger window and his face lit up when he saw me approaching.

As soon as I got in the passenger seat, I leaned over to kiss him, melting into his warmth.

“It’s so nice to see you” he said softly, his eyes holding mine for a moment longer than usual.

“It’s nice to see you too” I replied, buckling my seatbelt.

He started the car, the low hum of the engine filling the space. “Where do you want to get food from?” he asked, glancing at me.

I didn’t have to think long. “Honestly? I’m really feeling McDonald’s right now.”

Chris laughed, his expression a mix of amusement and fondness. “If McDonald’s is what my girl wants, McDonald’s is what my girl gets.”

I couldn’t help but grin. It wasn’t fancy, but I loved how he always made me feel like my choices mattered.

We headed to the nearest McDonald’s, sliding into the drive thru line. After some playful back and forth, we decided on a 20 piece chicken nugget meal with sweet and sour sauce, paired with two Pepsi’s.

When we reached the pickup window, the smell of fresh fries filled the car, making my stomach growl.

“You better not eat all the fries before we park” I teased, reaching for a couple as he handed me the bag.

“Hey, we both know fries have a lifespan of, like, five minutes” Chris shot back, smirking as he grabbed a few for himself.

We drove to Castle Island, the sky was now pitch black. Chris pulled into a quiet spot near the water, cutting the engine. The world felt still except for the occasional rustle of the trees and the distant sound of waves.

We opened the bag and dug in, alternating between nuggets and fries, laughing as we both reached for the sweet and sour sauce at the same time. It was simple, but moments like this with Chris always felt special.

“This is perfect” I said, leaning back against the seat, the salty tang of fries lingering on my tongue.

Chris glanced over at me, a small smile playing on his lips. “You make everything perfect.”

I felt my cheeks flush as I nudged him playfully. “You’re so cheesy.”

He chuckled, but his eyes softened. “Only for you.”

Chris smirked, tossing another nugget into his mouth as he turned to look at me. "I love having you as my passenger princess," he said, his tone light and teasing.

I laughed, shaking my head. "Passenger princess? Really?"

"Yup" he said with a grin. Then his expression shifted slightly, like he’d been meaning to bring something up. "Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you something, do you drive?"

I couldn’t help but laugh at the question. "Can I? Yes. Can I legally? No."

Chris raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Wait, what? Why not?"

"My driving test is coming up soon" I admitted. "I never really needed to know how to drive until we moved out of the city. So I only started learning recently. But honestly, the thought of the test freaks me out."

Chris chuckled, his smile softening. "That’s kinda cute. Don’t stress about it, though. And, for the record, I have no problem driving you around. I’d take you over Nate any day."

I grinned at his playful jab. "Speaking of Nate, have you talked to him since the whole argument?"

Chris nodded, his eyes flicking to the water outside the windshield before meeting mine again. "Uh yeah.. I was actually with him before I came to meet you. Everything’s cool now."

I nodded back, taking in his response. I hesitated for a moment, but curiosity got the better of me. There were questions I’d been holding back for a while, and now felt like the right time to ask. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course" he said, tilting his head slightly, his expression open.

"So.. in the gang or whatever you call it," I started cautiously, "is there anyone else like you and Nate in it?"

Chris paused, wiping his hands on a napkin before leaning back in his seat. "Age wise, you mean?"

I nodded, watching him closely as he mulled over the question.

He shrugged, his tone casual, but there was a faint edge to it. "Nah, not really. It’s just me and Nate in our 20’s. He’s the youngest, and I’m only a year older. Everyone else is in their thirties or forties or older."

I raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Seriously? Just the two of you? That’s.. a little unexpected."

Chris considers this for a moment, looking out toward the horizon before turning back to me. "Yeah it can be weird sometimes. But Nate and I stick together. It’s not like the older guys treat us badly or anything, they just see us as the runners, not the ones calling the shots."

I nod again, chewing on his words, a tangle of thoughts forming in my mind. I decide to push some of the heavier ones aside, for now, focusing on enjoying this moment with him.

"You and Nate have always been close, though."

Chris smiled faintly, his eyes softening at the mention of his best friend. "Yeah, we are. He’s like a brother to me. Sometimes I just wish he’d get out of this life, you know? But I don’t think he’ll ever change his ways."

I wanted to tell him that he deserved better, that they both did, but I held back. Instead, I leaned into the moment, savoring the way he’s starting to open up to me.

"Well" I said softly, "I’m glad you two are okay now. And for what it’s worth, I like seeing this side of you, open, honest. It makes me feel closer to you."

Chris looked at me, his expression shifting to something tender and unguarded. "You’re the only person I feel like I can talk to like this" he admitted.

My heart swelled at his words, and I reached for his hand, threading my fingers through his.

We sat there in the car, the last of the fries growing cold as the conversation shifted back to lighter topics. But deep down, I felt like something had shifted between us, a step closer to understanding each other’s worlds, even if they were still so far apart.

"Can we go back.. to yours?" I asked softly, trying to keep my voice light, not wanting to come across as invasive. "I mean, I want to make the effort with your family, like you have with mine."

There was a brief silence before Chris responded, his voice a little uncertain. "Uh.. yeah, sure."

His hesitation wasn’t lost on me, and I quickly added, "If it’s too much, it’s okay, I just thought I could get to know your world a little better."

I saw his lips tighten slightly, and he turned toward me with an almost apologetic look. "No, it’s fine. It’s just.. it’s nothing compared to what you live in. Your house is so pristine and presentable.. whereas Uncle Jerry’s place, well.." His voice trailed off, the words left unfinished, as if he didn’t want to insult his uncle’s place.

My heart tugged at the mention of his uncle. I knew Chris had a complicated relationship with his family. He’d told me before that after his own family cut him off, he’d been staying with Uncle Jerry. I reached over, placing my hand gently on his arm. "That doesn’t matter to me, Chris. I just want to be with you, wherever that is."

He looked at me, his eyes softening, and I could see a faint relief in his expression. But then, I felt the need to add something else, something I’d been thinking about for a while. "And besides, I was thinking, when you’re out of all this, maybe you could try reaching out to your family. Maybe try rebuilding those connections."

Chris’s face hardened for a second, and he seemed to retreat inward. I held my breath, not sure if I’d crossed a line, but then he exhaled slowly, looking out the window.

"I don’t know, Y/n" he said quietly. "I dont know if they’ll ever accept me back. Not after everything." His tone was guarded, but I could hear the underlying pain.

I squeezed his arm, my voice gentle. "You never know. People change, Chris. And you’ve changed, too. I just think, maybe.. they might not be so quick to turn their backs on you if they see that."

He didn’t answer right away, and the silence between us stretched for a few moments. I wasn’t sure what was going on in his head, but I didn’t press further. I could see he needed time to process it.

Instead, I smiled at him, trying to lighten the mood. "But hey, it’ll be an adventure, right? Going to Uncle Jerry’s place?"

Chris smirked, his eyes flicking toward me. "Yeah, if you call it that. You’re really sure you want to see where I grew up?"

I nodded, my expression sincere. "Absolutely. I want to know all of you, Chris."

A genuine smile spread across his face then, and he leaned over to kiss my forehead lightly. "Alright. Let’s go then."

We both settled into a comfortable silence as he started the car again, the city slipping away as we headed toward his uncle’s place. And though I didn’t know exactly what would happen when we arrived, I knew one thing for sure, I was ready to be there for him, just like he had been for me.

Chris’ POV

As we pulled up outside my uncle Jerry’s place on Medford Street, I couldn’t help but shake my head. The house didn’t exactly scream "homey" and in the low light, it looked even worse than usual. "It looks like a right trap house, doesn’t it?" I said, laughing under my breath, but my words carried that familiar bitterness.

Y/n, always the optimist, tried to reassure me. "It’s not that bad" she insisted, but I could tell by the look on her face that she was still taking in the sight of the place.

I just hoped Jerry wasn’t asleep on the couch. I wouldn't want to subject her to that, she didn’t need to see the way he lived. Shit, I barely could stand it myself. I’d hoped he’d be passed out in his room, preferably not stirring when we came in.

I reached over and unlocked the front door, the sound of the key turning in the lock echoing through the stillness of the night. The house was dark, which was perfect. The less Y/n saw of the chaos, the better. Exactly what I wanted, since you can’t see shit.

We stepped inside, the heavy smell of old furniture and stale air hitting me immediately. The house was quiet, too quiet. Jerry’s room was at the back, and the living room was to the left, with the usual mess of old magazines, fast food containers, and a busted-up couch. I wanted to get us to my room as quickly as possible, where things were.. more put together.

Since Jerry’s place was a bungalow, there wasn’t much to navigate. It was basically a long stretch with rooms off to the side. I led Y/n to the right, to the first door that opened to my room. I flicked the light switch, the soft glow illuminating the space, and I motioned for Y/n to come inside.

"This is where I crash" I said, trying to sound casual, but there was a tinge of pride in my voice. Compared to the rest of the house, my room was pristine and presentable. I kept it clean, I had to, if only to feel like I had something that was mine.

Y/n took a moment to look around, and I could see her eyes soften as she surveyed the room. It wasn’t much, but it was mine. A small bed, a desk neatly organised with books, and a few pictures hang on the wall. Nothing fancy, but it was a place where I could think, breathe, and for the first time in a while, I felt comfortable with her being there.

"Make yourself at home" I said, closing the door behind us. The place was quieter, calmer than the chaos outside, and it felt like a bit of peace.

I watched as Y/n moved around the room, touching a few things here and there, but not too much, respecting the space. I felt a sense of pride surge through me. It wasn’t a mansion, but it was a part of me, and in that moment, it was enough.

Y/n had sat down beside me on the edge of the bed, her legs tucked under her as she glanced around my small, dimly lit room. I could feel her eyes lingering on the few personal touches I had scattered around, nothing flashy, just things that made this place feel like mine. And for some reason, having her here with me felt different than anyone else ever had.

"You know" she said softly, breaking the silence. "I’ve been thinking a lot about the future lately."

I turned to look at her, my heart tightening at the way she spoke. "What do you mean?" I asked, leaning back slightly on the bed to face her more fully.

She shifted, pulling her knees to her chest as she glanced down, then back at me. "I mean.. us. What we’re doing. What it all looks like in the long run. You know, once this.. all this.. is behind you." She gestured vaguely, the weight of what I was involved in hanging heavy between us. "I can’t help but picture us, together, in the future. Somewhere.. where we can just breathe. You and me."

My chest tightened, a lump forming in my throat. I knew what she meant, and honestly, I’d never really let myself think about it, about a future, about a life with her outside of everything that dragged me down. But hearing her say it out loud made it feel real. It made it seem possible.

"I’d like that" I said softly, my voice hoarse, vulnerable. "I’d like to have a future with you. Somewhere.. just us. Away from all this shit."

Her eyes softened, and she moved closer, settling in beside me on the bed. There was a quiet kind of understanding between us, the unspoken bond growing stronger with each moment. She leaned into me, her head finding its place against my shoulder. "We’ll get there" she whispered. "We just have to take it one step at a time, right?"

I nodded, my hand finding its way to her back, pulling her a little closer, the warmth of her body grounding me in a way I didn’t know I needed. My hand slid to her side, fingers gently tracing the curve of her waist as we sat in the comfortable silence.

Then, without even thinking about it, I turned to her. Her face was close, the soft curve of her lips tempting, and before I could stop myself, I leaned in, pressing my lips to hers. The kiss was slow, tentative at first, like we were both still figuring out what this was, what we meant to each other. But the longer it lasted, the deeper it became, until there was no space left between us.

I felt her hands move to my chest, pushing me gently backwards, and before I knew it, she was straddling me, her legs draped on either side, her breath coming out in soft, shallow gasps against my lips. I couldn’t help but feel a rush of heat flood through me, my heart racing as I looked up at her. There was a wildness to the moment, an urgency, but it felt right, like everything had led up to this. To us.

Her hands moved to my shoulders, then down to my chest, her touch sending electricity through me. My hands found their way to her hips, pulling her in closer, the warmth of her body against mine driving me crazy. But just as I was lost in the moment, just as everything felt like it was finally falling into place, the sudden beep of my phone broke through the haze.

I groaned, pulling away from her reluctantly as I reached for my phone. The alarm was a reminder—a notification for something I couldn’t ignore.

I pull my phone out of my pocket, silencing the alarm. My stomach tightens at the reminder.

“Shit” I mutter.

“Is everything okay?” Y/n asks, tilting her head slightly, her soft expression making me hesitate.

“Yeah.. it’s.. work” I answer, fumbling for the right words.

“Oh” she says, standing up from the bed. I can tell she’s disappointed, though she’s trying to hide it.

“What do you have to do?” she asks quietly, her voice almost reluctant.

I sigh. “I’ve got to deliver some weed. Just a fifty bag, so it’s not much. I can drop you home first, and then go do it. The dude knows me, so he won’t care if I’m a little late.”

“Yeah, that’s okay” she says with a small nod, but her shoulders sag just enough for me to notice. I hate this. Hate that I keep doing this to her.

We make our way out of my house and back to the car. I unlock it, and we both slide into our seats. The engine hums to life as I glance over at her. She’s staring out the window, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her jacket.

“Have you made any attempts to try to leave yet?” she asks suddenly, her tone colder than before.

I grip the steering wheel tighter. “No.. not yet” I admit. “I said two weeks because.. because I have to figure out how to get out. It’s not as easy as just walking away.”

She doesn’t respond immediately, her silence weighing heavy in the car. Finally, she speaks, her voice low.

“Where’s this going to?”

“Longwood” I reply. “Why?”

“You have to go through Longwood to get to my place,” she says, glancing over at me. “Just deliver this off, then drop me home. At least it gives me a bit more time with you.”

I hesitate. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel like I’m just throwing you home, either.”

“I’m sure” she says firmly. “Put it this way, it’s probably one of the last runs you’ll ever do, right? I’m glad to be here, ending this part of your life with you.” She gives me a small, reassuring smile, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

The drive to Longwood is quiet. Occasionally, Y/n hums softly to the radio, but I can tell her mind is elsewhere. Mine is too.

When we arrive, I park a little down the street, avoiding the house. No way am I letting anyone see her here. I text the dude to let him know I’m here, and he replies almost immediately, telling me to meet him around the side of his place. I glance at Y/n sitting in the car, her fingers absentmindedly drumming on her knee as she stares out the window. I glance at her. “I’ll be quick.”

She nods, giving me a faint smile, though the worry in her eyes is unmistakable.

I lock the car behind me as I step out, tucking the fifty bag into my jacket pocket. Walking down the street, I keep glancing over my shoulder, my eyes flickering back to where the car sits. I hate leaving her like this, even for a few minutes.

I round the corner of the guy’s house and stop, positioning myself at the edge where I can still see my car. It’s a habit, maybe paranoia, but with Y/n sitting inside, I can’t take any chances. I lean against the wall, trying to shake the nagging feeling in my chest. I shouldn’t have brought her with me.

The dude comes out from the back of the house, his hoodie pulled up over his head. He nods at me as he approaches.

“Yo” he greets casually, pulling a fifty dollar bill from his pocket and handing it to me.

I slip him the bag of weed in exchange. “All good?”

“Yeah, man. Easy.” he says with a grin before disappearing back into the shadows.

I turn to leave, relief washing over me. Simple. Quick. Just the way I wanted it.

As I step back onto the street, I hear the low rumble of a car creeping slowly toward me. My heart sinks.

A black sedan rolls up, its headlights off. It stops just a few feet from my car, parked awkwardly in the middle of the road.

A black sedan.

Again?

Something’s wrong.

I freeze, watching as the passenger window rolls down ever so slightly. My breath catches when I see it – a hand, pale against the dark, gripping the barrel of a gun.

“Fuck” I whisper, my eyes darting to the car where Y/n is sitting.

Before I can move, the first shot shatters the silence of the night, followed by the sound of breaking glass. My car’s back window explodes into shards, and I hear Y/n’s muffled scream from inside. The sedan’s tires screech as it takes off, leaving the street in chaos.

Fuck. Y/n.

a/n: BUCKLE THE FUCK UP BITCHES

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[soapieanxiety]

Historical Iceland: Part 2 - Electric Boogaloo

So we don’t have as many manga panels as we did for Iceland's early childhood, so I’m going to rely more on my historical knowledge and knowledge of Iceland's character to do some of the analysis in this part.

So we left off at around the 1100s, and Norway still hasn’t met Iceland yet. That’s going to change pretty quickly though, as we’re going to have to talk about the Age of the Sturlungs (it has a lot of names, such as the Sturlungen period, but no matter what name you call it, the content remains the same). The entire period can be summarized as a period of Icelandic history rifled with violence that ended with Iceland becoming Norwegian territory.

The King of Norway had originally wanted Iceland to be under its direct rule and encouraged the violence between the Icelanders. That’s basically how the whole thing started; I’m really simplifying it like I haven’t even mentioned Snorri Sturluson. He was the catalyst for the violence in Iceland, and it gets complicated from there. But the point is that the path for Iceland to meet Norway was not a pretty one.

If you want a full-blown ramble about just this era of Icelandic history, let me know. I’ll do it, but I’m trying to keep it short because there’s a lot to cover for this part.

Now during this time, I cannot imagine Iceland is having a good time. This happened after a particularly peaceful era of Icelandic history, and I don’t think Iceland had seen violence to this level yet in his life. Now I’m going to say that he officially met Norway once Iceland became Norwegian territory at the end of the violence. However, if you think he should’ve met Norway before that, then I can see where you are coming from.

I can’t imagine how Iceland felt when Norway entered his life. The immediate emotions I think he’s feeling are relief and anger. Relief to finally meet his brother, but angry that it took this long. Especially after all the violence to get to this point. However, I do think relief and love for Norway won in terms of how a younger Iceland feels about Norway. Norway 100% loved Iceland from day 1, and when he finally got to hold him, Bro was not putting him down. I can’t see Mr. Puffin liking Norway though; that bird holds grudges, and he was probably mad at Norway for leaving Iceland alone for so long.

So for a while, it was just Norway and Iceland. I imagine the two bonded during this time; Iceland clung to the first person who was a representation like him, and Norway was trying to make up for not being there. There was stuff that happened between this era and the one I’m going to talk about next. But like guys, I’m supposed to make it to the 1920s without writing a novel. If you want a more in-depth analysis of this period of Iceland's life, just let me know.

Ah yes, we’re about to talk about every historical Nordic fan's angsty dreams, the Kalmar Union. The Union between all the Nordic countries crashed and burned. It’s definitely what fueled a lot of Sweden and Denmark’s rivalry, but I’m not here to talk about that. The Kalmar Union was different compared to everything else Iceland had encountered in life. He officially met Denmark, who would be one of the most influential people in his life. Right behind Norway, in my opinion.

However, the Kalmar Union can be described with one word. Disastrous. I imagine Norway shielded Iceland from most of the chaos of the Kalmar Union. Meaning Iceland didn’t get to know the rest of the Nordics. He was mainly with Norway. I do believe he met Sweden at around this time; however, I don’t think he knew Finland yet. I have my reasons for that, and I’ll share them later. My point is, that Iceland was heavily shielded from what was happening during the Kalmar Union. Norway was extremely protective of Iceland during that time.

When the Kalmar Union ended, it then became just Norway, Iceland, and Denmark.

With the Kalmar Union ending in 1523, I imagine things chilled out for Iceland (for a bit). Things went back to semi-normal as Norway continued to baby him, but Denmark was becoming a bigger figure in Iceland's life. While I don’t think Iceland grew particularly close with Denmark in this period, preferring to stay with Norway. The impact of Denmark’s presence was still present.

(Look, it’s my moots, pfp.) Iceland went from being completely alone to having to deal with the rest of Europe. Iceland was able to start trading with the rest of Europe and was starting to get more connected with the continent. Some violent conflicts were happening in Iceland because of the reformation, which gave him a spook and reminded him of the Sturlungs Era. I can see him being freaked out about that. However, I think the biggest event of his life in this period was absolutely the Turkish abductions.

I’ve talked a bit about the Turkish abductions before and how I view the event and its impact on Iceland's character. But I’m still rambling a lot about it here.

Bottom line, this was a particularly traumatic event in Iceland's life. He’s never left Northern Europe at this point, and now he and a bunch of his people have been forcefully taken away to the Middle East. He doesn’t know the language, doesn’t know what’s going to happen to him and his people, and he doesn’t know if Norway and Denmark know what happened. He’s terrified, and I don’t blame him.

Luckily enough, Turkey found him and recognized him as a representation. He took him in and took care of him and made sure he’d find his way home. I imagine Turkey’s presence in this traumatic event is why we see that Iceland respects Turkey today. What happened to Iceland was incredibly traumatic, and his bond with Turkey was the best thing he got out of that entire experience.

I believe that Iceland was with Turkey for 9 years. That’s how long it took for most of the Icelanders to go back to Iceland. The money paid to get the Icelanders back had to be sent three times because the first two people delivering it would spend it before they got to the Ottoman Empire. Another ransom was paid 9 years after the initial ransom was paid off to get more Icelanders back. But I don’t think Iceland was there for 18 years. With how chaotic it was to get the Icelanders back, I imagine Iceland was experiencing so many emotions. Terrified of the situation. Grateful that Turkey was taking care of him. Angry that the ransom money to get him back was being spent on goods instead of helping his people. Incredibly homesick at being in an unfamiliar environment.

When Iceland got sent back home, he was clinging to Norway a lot. He didn’t want to be left alone so he could be taken again. Norway happily obliged and was extremely grateful to get him back. Denmark was happy to have him back as well, but mainly because it made Norway happy. Denmark and Iceland weren’t that close yet. Iceland spent most of his time with Norway.

Before we talk about a major event in Iceland's life, I want to briefly explain why I believe Iceland was extremely shielded from the rest of the Nordics by Norway. Yes, he knew Sweden and Denmark were a part of his life. But Norway was very protective of his younger brother, especially after the abductions. Iceland didn’t go out to meet new people often and was closed off.

Finland didn’t meet Iceland until the 18th century, and I think that’s a great testament to how closed off Iceland was during this period of his life. Norway’s overprotective nature added to this as well.

We reach another incredibly traumatic part of Iceland's life; he’s got a lot of those. Sweden took Norway and Iceland was left with Denmark. Iceland was extremely angry at the situation. Norway was the person he was closest to in life. Norway was his big brother, the one who saved him from extreme loneliness, and now he’s gone. He’s gone, and there’s nothing Iceland can do about it.

Iceland was just overall angry at everyone. Angry at Denmark for losing Norway. Angry at Sweden for taking Norway. Angry at Norway for leaving.

The only thing Denmark had of Norway was Iceland. Denmark then became overbearing and protective of Iceland, even though they weren’t that close. Iceland, who was extremely upset at the loss of his brother, didn’t appreciate Denmark’s behavior. Their relationship was pretty rocky during this time. Especially with Iceland’s fight for independence coming up.

Iceland and Denmark did get close though. They only had each other, and Denmark wanted to keep Iceland close and Iceland was desiring independence. They grew to care for each other. Enough so that Denmark would later claim that he practically raised Iceland. I think this is because, during his time with Denmark, Iceland started aging pretty quickly. I believe he was around 9 years old physically when Norway left, but by the time Iceland was made a sovereign state in a personal union with Denmark (1918), he was 14–15 years old. (I’m going off the canon that Iceland is physically 16-17 modern day; I prefer 17.)

While Denmark was reluctant to let him go, especially after he grew to really care for Iceland. He eventually matured and realized it would be best for Iceland to have more freedoms. Eventually, Iceland will gain independence but that’s for part 3.

There it is! That’s part 2. Thank you so much for reading. The next part will go over Iceland's independence, WW2, his relationships with the other Nordics, and modern day. This one took a while to write. I did a lot of research to make this as accurate as possible, and I glazed over some things. I wanted to be as in-depth as possible but also keep it as short as possible. (I didn’t want to make 4 parts.) Despite my friends arguing I’d make 20 parts if I could. (They’re right 😔)

[amalythea]

omg i love this new event and ive been scrolling thru your acc since i read that one kazuha fic!! if possible, may i pls request 46. “i can't help but wonder if you ever truly loved me.” with kazuha since i need some angsty angst and i adore the way you write him! tysm, and feel free to ignore this request ir you're busy! <333 THANK YOU FOR FEEDING US!

「goodbyes 」

⤷ info: kazuha x gn!reader || angst, hurt/no comfort || wc: 741

⤷ warnings: break up, heartbreak, angst. i cried when writing this. reader is tired, alone and upset guys let's give them a break

⤷ extra: hi!! i'm honored omg thank you!! also i made up the flower (hoping there wasnt one called flame lotus in genshin already)

The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky painted in deep hues of indigo and violet. The quiet hum of cicadas filled the air, their droning chorus a poor substitute for the voice you had longed to hear. The teapot on the stove had gone cold hours ago, its contents untouched as you sat at the table, staring blankly at the faintly glowing lantern.

Another evening alone. Another night without him.

You tried not to let it weigh on you, tried to understand. Kazuha was a free spirit, a wanderer by nature. You had known this when you first fell for him, when his poems were your only company for weeks at a time. But something in your chest had begun to ache in ways you hadn’t expected, hollow and gnawing, growing with each passing day.

The door creaked open, and his familiar silhouette appeared, framed by the dim light of the moon. He stepped inside quietly, as if afraid to disturb the peace. His soft smile reached you first, a flicker of warmth that you would have once found comforting. Now, it only deepened the bitter weight in your chest.

“Did I keep you waiting?” he asked, his voice as calm as the ocean breeze. He shed his coat, hanging it neatly by the door, and turned to you with those gentle eyes of his.

You shook your head, though the words you wanted to say burned on your tongue.

He moved closer, setting his travel-worn bag by the wall. “I found something today that reminded me of you,” he said, withdrawing a delicate flower from his pocket. The petals were a vibrant red, trembling slightly in his hands. “It’s called a flame lotus. The vendor said it thrives in solitude but burns brighter when it’s nurtured.”

You stared at the flower, at the care he took in holding it, and something inside you snapped.

“Kazuha,” you said, your voice steadier than you felt. “Do I mean anything to you?”

He blinked, startled, the flower dipping slightly in his grasp. “What kind of question is that?”

“I can’t help but wonder,” you continued, the words tumbling out before you could stop them, “if you ever truly loved me.”

The air grew heavy, the cicadas outside suddenly silent. Kazuha’s eyes widened briefly before narrowing with something that might have been hurt or disbelief. He set the flower down carefully, too carefully, as though it might shatter under his touch.

“Why would you think that?” he asked softly, but his voice carried the weight of a thousand storms.

You stood, your chair scraping against the floor, and faced him fully. “Because I feel like I’m always waiting, always hoping you’ll come back, but when you do, it’s like I’m just another stop on your journey. I’ve tried to convince myself that I’m enough, that I can handle the loneliness, but…” Your voice cracked, and you clenched your fists. “But I can’t anymore.”

His gaze dropped, his silence cutting deeper than any argument could. You wanted him to fight, to deny it, to promise you that he loved you, that he needed you. Instead, he simply stood there, the distance between you growing insurmountable.

“I never meant for you to feel this way,” he murmured, his tone laced with regret. “I thought... I thought you understood.”

You let out a hollow laugh, shaking your head. “I thought I did too. But understanding doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

Kazuha opened his mouth, then closed it again, his expression unreadable. The poet, the wanderer, the man who always had a verse ready for every occasion, now had nothing to say.

The silence stretched, oppressive and cold. Finally, you turned away, unable to bear the sight of him any longer. “Maybe it’s better if you go. You’re good at that, aren’t you?”

His sharp intake of breath was the only indication that your words had hit their mark. He didn’t move, not at first, but when you risked a glance over your shoulder, he was already reaching for his coat.

He paused by the door, the flower still sitting untouched on the table between you. “I do love you,” he said quietly, so quietly you almost didn’t hear it. “In my own way.”

And then he was gone, the sound of his footsteps fading into the night. The flame lotus sat there, its vibrant red mocking the emptiness in your chest.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

@amalythea 2024. | do not re-upload, copy, translate, etc. my works on any form of media.

[ofromtheunderworld]

Tbh, I kinda like this new approach towards Moana now. I feel like it could be a major subplot within Moana 3, like with her discovering more powers and that she’s immortal now, with her debating if she’s wants to become a demigod or try to find a way to make her mortal again.

I feel like she would really struggle which to choose since she absolutely loves her people and her family and doesn’t want to outlive everyone, especially her younger sister who loves her to death. She cares so much about her people and her family that would be willing to fight gods for them. She is the chief (or future chief) of her people and she wants them all to be happy and thriving. But at the same time, she doesn’t want to Maui alone since he was on his own for most of his life.

This could easily create a struggle for Maui too if he realizes if Moana doesn’t want to be a demigod with him. When you think about Maui’s story, it’s actually very sad: His parents killed him right after birth because they didn’t want him, the gods gave him a second chance at life and raised him to become a demigod, he did everything for the humans to become wanted, but that want for acceptance led for him to steal the heart for the humans, which led to the destruction of many islands and tribes and caused him to be in isolation for HUNDREDS OF YEARS.

Moana was the same thing to him in his eyes like all those other tribes: wanting Maui to help her with something. But when they got to know each other, he finally has someone who cares about him. Someone who can get serious yet silly with him. Someone who’s he worries about losing. Something that he possibly never truly had before.

A friend.

He was completely against her coming onto the trip this time, not because he didn’t want to deal with her, but because he doesn’t want her to DIE. You seen the way he was crying when he found out that Moana died at the end of the movie. She was the first human who he interacted with for years and possibly the only friend he ever had in his life. So I imagine when he fully realizes that she can’t die anymore and can fully live with him forever, he would be more than thrilled.

So you could imagine what this struggle could cause for the both of them. Maui would have to comprehend the fact that the person that he’s closest to could possibly not want to join him in the deity life and he may still be on his own for the rest of his life and Moana would have the bigger struggle to deal with and the bigger question to answer: “Do I abandon Maui and the new demigod life that I was given for my people and my family or do I abandon my people and family, INCLUDING my little sister, for my best friend?”

We could have multiple ways this could play out in the 3rd movie: Maui and Moana arguing over this topic and almost causing them to fallout of their friendship, Maui and Moana wanting the other to be happy and doesn’t want to make things more difficult for each other while fighting their own inner demons, Moana fully accepting the deity life but she has to teach her family and people why she chose the path (Which could lead to a whole spiral of problems, especially with Simea), etc.

I could see either one of the endings playing out with Moana either becoming fully mortal again or staying as a demigod, (Unless they pull something completely random out of their ass, like idk, Maui becoming a full mortal again) and it would be very interesting to see how everything plays out in the 3rd movie. I’m kinda excited for Moana 3 now just with this subplot alone, let alone about Nalo being a major villain in the 3rd movie, and let’s just hope that whatever Disney chooses that it’s written correctly in a likable way for the audience and not washed down by a bunch of unnecessary jokes.

moana being immortal now really fucks me up like you're telling me she's going to watch simea grow up and older than her? I'm supposed to be normal about the fact that moana will never return to the sea, to her ancestors, the way everyone she knows and loves will? you mean to say that someday maui will be her only companion, the only one in her life who won't grow old and die? am i understanding correctly that death, originally her biggest obstacle, is now just pretty much off the table for her?

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

.

[dancing-with-stars]

guys. guys !!!!

[whimsyprinx]

i think I just need to stop clinging to and getting so attached to people

[starmakii]

//

[eupheme]

— burning slow

logan howlett x inexperienced!f!reader

rated e - 1.2k

tags: reader is nervous but excited about sex, soft!logan, dual pov, touching, feelings, hint of an innocence kink, oral sex, fingering, PiV

an expansion of this lovely ask, because I couldn’t stop thinking about it 💕

The exchange is fluid, shifting between you. How you call every shot, his fingers and tongue working you until you cry out. More. Harder. Faster. There, Logan. Please-

Brought back to him in the way you place your pleasure in his hands, wrapped around fingers that crook deep. Wrenching you to a peak that leaves you trembling - his voice a low croon as your cries are muffled into your pillow.

Logan bites back a groan at the shift of your hips. How you grind down almost unconsciously, letting him angle your eager mouth against his. The sound slipping free from his throat when your fingers tighten in his hair.

It’s not the first time his mouth has met yours.

Stolen moments around the grounds, always leaving him wanting more. Leaving you with eyes half-lidded and lips kiss-swollen, and it’s impossible not to image them elsewhere. Mapping out each and every inch of him.

But it’s the first time he’s had you alone. Entwined fingers as you sneak him into your room - as if you were both students. His back pressed against the headboard as your thighs spread wide to straddle him.

The hitch in your breath, as you feel him beneath you. A thick curve of desire, pressed snug against your core. His own need a low pulse in his guts, a rhythmic lift of his hips to meet the downward rock of your own.

A rough sound that he swallows, as his hand slips up to cup your breast - your soft flesh molding to his broad palm. There’s the kick of your heart, rabbiting behind your ribs. Your scent threatening to overwhelm him.

Clinging to you, where it settles between your thighs. Where you meet him meet, a low whine as you grind down just a little harder. He did this to you. He'll do more - if you let him.

Sighing into the soft brush of your tongue against his, his thumb sweeping against the stiff peak. A moan that he swallows - pretty, as it slips from you.

He wants to hear more. Wants you to cry his name so loudly, you won't be able to look at Scott tomorrow.

Something shifts, when his hands dip low. Fingers tracing against skin as they slip beneath your shirt. A thumb hooking around the waistband of your leggings, gently tugging.

His nose twitches, as something about you changes. How you stiffen in his arms, the needy rock of your hips going still.

“‘s wrong, baby?” It’s slips from him, rough and low - his pupils blown wide and dark.

There's a shine to your lips, where his tongue traced them. Pressing together as your eyes drop, teeth sinking into flesh.

“I’m just-“ You start, searching for words, “Nervous. Haven’t done this before. Not that. I’ve done that."

A breath, "Just not like this-”

“I mean, you’re-”, The rest comes out breathless, with the slow sweep of your eyes, “It's just, a lot."

Your words, how sweet they are - the nervous hunger and curiosity in your expression - shoots straight through him. His jeans tight enough to ache - he has to resist the urge to rut up into you.

A sharply-inhaled breath, as he tries come back to himself.

Fuck.

Your nerves spike, as his eyes close. Worried he’ll think you’re silly - that he won't understand - but that’s only until you hear the noise it pulls from him.

Almost a growl, as his fingers pinch into your skin.

Only a heartbeat passing until he eases you off of him. The rejection stings - leaving you tripping over your words, “I-I don’t want to stop, Logan-”

But he only stretches out on your bed. The flex of muscles as he settles. A hand extended towards you, beckoning.

“I know, baby," Loga rasps, "Just gonna take it slow, alright?”

It soothes you, as you fold yourself against him. The careful mapping of fingers, as he matches each piece of clothes that are peeled from you. Letting you set the pace - biting back groans as your touch trails across his skin. Seconds bleeding into minutes, and then more.

You own sounds louder, when his mouth drags from your neck down to your sternum. Tounge tracing the tight peaks of your nipples - your shirt long peeled from you. Equal time spent learning the soft curves, until it’s your hand reaching between you - down to where he presses stiff and hard against your thigh.

Cupping him, feeling the weight against your palm. The heat that rolls of him, his breath a harsh pant against your skin as your fingers skate up his length.

A sharp inhale that hisses past your teeth, when they try to wrap around. A hesitation he can feel.

“I don’t-” You’re not sure how to touch him. Not sure if you can take him - a rough murmur in your ear as he kisses at your throat.

“Cant do it wrong,” He croons, “It was made for you, sweetheart.”

A ragged breath, as you try. His hand curving to fit yours, showing you how to stroke him. A heat flickering in your belly, when he grits out, "Fuck. Just like that, baby."

Logan's hips jerking into your touch. The sound it pulls from him, making your skin prickle with pleasure.

It feels like a triumph.

You’re soaked through, by the time he finally touches you.

The soft swirl of his fingers, so much thicker than your own. A little rougher than you are with yourself, but it feel right.

Feels good - when first one, and then another - press inside you. Teeth sinking into your your palm to muffle your whines, when he settles between your thighs.

The exchange is fluid, shifting between you. How you call every shot, his fingers and tongue working you until you cry out.

More. Harder. Faster. There, Logan. Please-

Brought back to him in the way you place your pleasure in his hands, wrapped around fingers that crook deep. Wrenching you to a peak that leaves you trembling - his voice a low croon as your cries are muffled into your pillow.

Ones that slip from you, when the ripples of pleassure ease. Smoothing across your thigh as he hovers above you.

“Fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?” It’s rasped out, with the soft curl of a smile.

The slight crease of a frown when you reach for him. Fingers fitting around his hard length, tilting your hips to meet his. A rough, inhaled breath as he protests, even as he leaks against your skin.

“Don’t have to, sweetheart.”

“I know,” You sigh, as the velvet length skates across your folds. An urge to feel what else he can give you.

“Want more. Want you.”

He takes it slow.

Lets you feel every inch that notches inside you. His jaw set as he works himself deep. Shallow rolls of his hips until you’re urging him for more - his teeth flashing white in the dim room as his pace picks up, giving you what you need.

You think he must like it - the way you beg, his cock slick with your need - with the way he leans down to kiss you, the age-old wood creaking beneath you with each thrust.

Praise and filth pouring from his lips - how fucking good you feel, how well you’re taking him. How you’re going to come for him again, as those fingers make practiced circles against your clit.

“One more time on my cock, baby. Come on-”

The nerves ease, until they’re no more than a memory. That tightly-wound thread burning up with the ember glow of another orgasm. Forgetting everything else, when he looks at you the way he does. The way Logan moans your name as you make him come - a rough grunt as he works himself empty inside you.

That tension sloughing off your skin in the soft afterglow - the weight of him welcome against you as your fingers card through his hair.

Because he’s right.

He was made for you.

thank you again, anon! 💖

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐏 ? ❞

❝ THE SHIBUYA INCIDENT? MORE LIKE THE SHIBARI INCIDENT ! ❞

✧ summary: they got too touchy, so you tied them up! (anon request)

✧ pairings: s. gojo, s. geto, k. nanami, t. fushiguro, r. sukuna, c. kamo

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, tying up (m! receiving), overstimulation (gojo, nanami, choso), multiple orgasms, sub! gojo, choso, switch! geto, toji, nanami, oral (f! receiving) (toji), oral (m! receiving) (nanami), riding (gojo), face riding (toji), shibari (choso), true form sukuna, stomach mouth for sukuna makes an appearance, art by @ / innaillus

✧ w/c: 6,212

SATORU GOJO

“You have no one to blame but yourself, Toru,” you bounced slowly on his cock, twitching in your folds as if it could get deeper if only you would let him.

(You wouldn’t).

“I warned you that I’d tie you up if you kept teasing me all night,” your fingers trace the rope around his wrists, before sliding them up to behind his back, “and what did you do?”

“you tested me baby,” you lean closer, letting your pert nipples draw close to his lips, but still just out of reach, letting him sink down to the hilt. a whimper leaves his throat, muffled against your soaked panties shoved in his mouth, “but you’re so good now, when you’re like this,” your fingers card through his hair, before tugging hard on the silky strands and you feel him twitch deep inside your drenched folds.

His sky blue eyes are glassy, pretty tears pooling, as your lips press sweet kisses to his jaw, and he mumbles something against the fabric that sounds like ‘please’ and you’re smiling that lovely smile that he had been kissing only a few minutes before.

“Begging already? Didn’t know my pussy felt that good,” and you lift yourself up, so only his tip remains inside your warm folds before slamming down, making his head loll back, a muffled grunt making your walls clench, “you’re too fucking big, Toru,” you slide your hand down your stomach, “think you’re actually fucking my guts now,” and his eyes watch as your fingers ghost over the slight bulge his dick makes inside you, “knew you were the strongest, but I didn’t think you meant in bed too,”

Another whine is pulled from his throat, and you take pity on him, pulling the fabric from his mouth, drenched in your precum and his saliva. His pants are nearly enough to make you cum from the sound of it, the sounds that left his lips were yours and yours alone - because he may be the strongest, but he was yours all the same.

“What do you need?” You’re bouncing on his cock slowly, slower even now that you can clearly hear the whines leaving his throat, his engorged tip kissing your womb, “use your words, and maybe I’ll let you have it,”

“Please, baby, wanna cum in your princess cunt,” he whines, music to your ears, and only your ears — because only he would be such a mess for you, “wanna fill you up, feel you cum around me,”

“I’ll let you cum,” and he blinks up at you, a tear slipping down his cheek, “if you beg for it,” He whimpers, a pathetic noise that only makes your insides twitch, “you asked for this, you love it when I do this, maybe I should suck you off the next time you have a meeting with the higher ups — imagine their horror if they walked in on us like that, but you’d love that, wouldn’t you?” 

You slam down on him, his head falling back, but you’re pulling him back into a messy kiss, all tongue and teeth and moans, “is this cunt that good for you, baby? Tell me how good it is,” 

“S-so, good, fuck—“ and you know he’s close, from the way he’s keening and whining, the way his fat tip twitches against your cervix, and the way his pretty eyes glaze over from a clear cerulean to a cloudy blue. But you’re not far off either — the way his cock kisses every inch of you, bullying your sopping cunt open — it’s not gonna be much longer,  “I’m—“ 

And you’re nodding, “Cum, fill me up, Toru, want you to fuck your cum inside me,” and that’s all it takes. 

He cums, spurts of thick cum gushing inside your sloppy pussy, as you continue to ride him through his orgasm, until his tip finds that one spot that has you following him over the edge, cumming hard. 

You’re panting, as you continue to ride him — bouncing again and again, until your knees give out, pleasure curling your toes, and flooding your body — just as his seed did. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Satoru looks up at you, fucked out gaze and smile on his lips, “didn’t know you could top me like that, otherwise, I would have had you done it a long time ago,” 

“Shoulda known you of all people would like to get topped,” and he’s raising an eyebrow, before his cock twitches inside you, “already ready for round two—“ 

You squeak as he flips you over, the rope formerly holding him in hand, “wha—how?” 

“Y’know as much as I liked you tying me up,” he pins your arms with one hand, and winding the rope with the other — not too toght, but enough that it burns into your skin, “think you’d look even prettier than I did.” 

SUGURU GETO

“Fuck, Suguru, you look so good like this,”

And he did — especially handcuffed to your headboard—  vulnerability suited Suguru Geto well — something reserved for you and only you. And something you definitely earned after all the games he had played with you all night long. Orgasm after orgasm pulled from you with a few fingers and laps of his tongue, until you fell apart under him, with nothing more than his smirk as your reward (aside from pleasure of course). 

And you knew Suguru preferred your pleasure over your own — punishingly so, as he loved nothing more than to see you fall apart into a crying mess under his touch — fat tears and begging that only made him ready to cum in his boxers untouched. 

But you were tired of not touching. 

“We can agree to disagree, Princess,” he says through gritted teeth, as the clink of the handcuffs draws a small smile to your lips, “I think you’d look much prettier like this for me,” and the last word is more of a gasp, as you thumb his weeping tip, “fuck—” 

“That’s what I’m trying to do,” and he glowers at you, a deep violet so dark it’s almost black with the way he stares at you, “Aw why so mad? You’re the one asking for it,” 

“We’ll see who’s asking for it once you uncuff me—“ 

SMACK! 

And he hissed as your palm came down on his thigh, hard, red blooming against his skin, “what was that?” he still glared all the same, but his anger came apart at the seams with the way your fingers grazed his clothed cock, growing harder by the second, and fuck, the way he pulsed in your fingers, as his fat tip twitched when your fingers grazed his slit, “poor Sugu, you complain so much, but you fucking love this don’t you? Love being at my mercy with nowhere to go and nothing else to do but get jerked off,” 

You cut off his reply with a snap of the elastic of his boxers against his skin, a gasp parting his pretty lips. And when you finally the tugged the soaked fabric down, you saw his pretty cock was as flushed as his cheeks were — the tip a pretty scarlet, dripping with pearly precum that you were dying to suck off, and the lovely veins that wrapped around his length like a Christmas present you were dying to unwrap. 

“Fuuuuuck, baby—“ he sucks air through his teeth, the rattle of the metal of the cuffs against your bedframe, breath shaky as he watches you with half lidded eyes. you’re still teasing him, fingers tracing along the toned muscles of his inner thighs, so close to where he wants you, but too fucking far, “you g’nna toy with me all night or are you going to give me what we both want?” 

“What we both want?” You raise an eyebrow, and he scoffs, all too confident for a man handcuffed at your will. 

“Know you love getting me to blow my load as much as you love getting off yourself,” and then your fingers wrap around his base and squeeze, head lolling back, lips parted in a groan, hips thrusting into your touch. 

“Think you’re putting too much value on your dick, Suguru,” and your thumb rubs meanly at his weeping slit, making him twitch under your touch, cuffs straining with the way he tugs harder and harder at them, rubbing his wrists raw, “should I show you your place?” 

And you start to pump his rock hard cock slowly, gathering his pre as makeshift lube, before spitting directly onto his dick. 

“You fucker,” he moans, nearly coming right there at the sight — it was too much, tip twitching at the feeling as you continue your excruciatingly slow pace, “don’t be a tease or you know I’ll give it right back to you, but worse,” 

“Oh, I know you will,” you grin back, but oblige him, fisting him faster, his body arching into nearly a crescent as he jerked his hips into your fingers. And god, he’s fuckinh close — you know he is by the way he’s twitching in your hand and groaning your name, “cum f’me, Suguru, cum all over me,” 

And he does, and he cums all over your fingers, pumping him through his orgasm, as his thick release coats your hand, dripping onto the sheets, “fuck, Suguru, you came so much,” you pull your hand away, licking each cum covered digit clean, “gotta do this more often if you’re gonna—“ 

You yelp, as he flips you over onto your stomach, your head turning as he pins you with his body, hardening erection pressed against your ass, holding your broken handcuffs in one hand and pushing his long black locks back with the other, dark eyes half lidded in pleasure and satisfaction—

“You think I’m gonna let this slide Princess?” And he’s teasing your wet entrance with his tip, “better think again,” and he’s handcuffing you to the headboard, both wrists caught as the chain linked through the metal bars of your headboard

“Suguru—“ and the you hear the distinct snap of his phone camera, as he smirks at you when you turn your head to look at him, right as he guides the tip of his cock inside you, a moan leaving your lips. 

“You were wrong sweetheart, maybe I look good handcuffed but you’re perfect.” 

NANAMI KENTO

You were the perfect wife. Kento’s perfect wife. 

Not a single bad word could be uttered about you, whether within his earshot or not, Kento would know — and no one wanted to get on his bad side. Or they would most certainly face a swift punishment with his blunt blade and tie wrapped around his knuckles. 

But that didn’t mean you couldn’t turn the tables on him once in a while. Right? 

It was the perfect anniversary — a day spent together, a dinner shared at a five star restaurant, and now a night spent together in bed. But Kento had done so much for you — he had planned the day and the dinner — so the least you could do is repay the favor with dessert. 

Well, for you anyway. 

“Baby, let me—“ Kento gritted his teeth, straining against his own tie, the one you had lovingly wrapped around his wrists, holding his arms behind his back. 

“You can handle a few more, can’t you, Kento? We still haven’t gotten to seven,” you pressed a kiss to the tip of his oversensitive cock — and fuck, you loved seeing him like this. The always put together, always professional, always business-like ratio sorcerer falling apart from your touch. You loved seeing the way his flush crawled up his neck until his cheekbones were flushed beautifully, the way his pristine hair was mussed and messy from your fingers running through it, and the way his pretty light eyes were dark and colored with lust — just for you. 

And all it took was this — your lithe fingers undoing the buttons of his shirt, kissing down his toned chest, paying special attention to every scar, until your hands found your buckle of his belt. You undo his belt with the same practiced ease, tugging down his slacks and boxers at once, until you see his pretty cock. 

Or rather, your dessert. 

How many times had he cum for you? Probably four or five times. 

“Don’t tell me you’re already impatient, husband,” you suck at his weeping tip, making him grunt, thighs tensing as you let him slide past your lips into your warm mouth. And fuck, the heaviness of his cock against your tongue was nearly too much for you, pressing your thighs together, “after how long you spent fucking me last night, shouldn’t I repay the favor?” 

And he had fucked you well — far too well. How many times did he make you beg for it — and yes it may have been at your request, but you also had wanted him to fuck you, fuck you with that dick you loved so much, but he spent so much of the night with his face buried in your cunt, not letting you get off the way you wanted, not until his perfect little wife was a blubbering mess for him. 

So now it’s your turn. 

You wouldn’t let him touch you, not until you had your fun — after all he had his dessert last night, and there’s more than you wanted right now than a stomach full of his cum. 

He grunted, “Fuck sweetheart, how long are you gonna not let me touch you?” And you’re smirking against his length, humming around him, as you begin to bob up and down. And all he can do his watch you with half lidded eyes, “so fucking a mix of his precum and your saliva dripping from the corner of your mouth, “know you must be dripping, want to make you feel good too—“ 

And his sentence is cut off by you sucking hard, his balls grow tense, as he groans your name loudly, before he’s cumming again, thick release coating your throat. You swallow every drop, and each time he came, it was less, but it was still so much. 

He’s panting and straining against his restraints, as you continue to suck and trace his dick through his orgasm, making him keen and moan at your touch, but almost flinch away all the same. 

“Don’t run away from me, Kento,” you pull away from his cock, strings of cum and spit connecting his length to your lips, “my perfect man, there’s nothing more than I love to see you fall apart for me,” you lick your lips clean, palms sliding up his chest, as you lean over him, fingers carding through his blond locks again, before tugging hard, “you deserve to be taken care of, so I’ll let you choose,” he stares up at you, as your lips find his in a bruising kiss, your tongue dragging over the seam of his lips before slipping inside, letting him taste his cum on your mouth, “do you want to cum in my mouth or my cunt this time?” 

His mouth opened, but no words came out for a moment, until he felt your fingers ghost over his overly sensitive cock again, “F-fuck—your cunt, sweetheart, need to be inside you, I can’t wait another—” and you’re on his lap in an instant, his swollen mushroom tip dragging against your sloppy cunt, and with the way he’s looking at you with dark, half lidded eyes, you knew his hands would have split you open on his cock in an instant, calloused palms from using his blunt blade using you as a glorified fuck toy, even as he whispered sweet nothings about how good you felt while fucking you like a whore. 

So you would do the same for him. 

You sunk onto him all at once, letting your hole engulf his length with the same eagerness you always had for him, so fucking good to watch his cock sink inside you, the curve of his length hitting places you could never reach, as if his ratio applied to your cunt too. 

“Wanted this, didn’t you, love?” you ask, cupping his cheek to force him to meet your gaze, “wanted your wife’s pussy this bad? Is it that good for you?” And he’s groaning in reply, as you give a slow bounce, forcing his cock even deeper somehow, and he wants to touch you so bad, wants to grope your tits and squeeze your hips as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hips and forced you deeper onto him, “tell me how good it is, Kento, and maybe I’ll let you cum,” 

“It’s good, it’s s’good,” and you’re beginning to fuck yourself open on his cock, fingers finding his broad shoulders as your nails dug pretty crescents into his back as you fucked his dick, the sounds of skin slapping together ringing in his ears, “So perfect, just like you,” he’s not going to last long with how sensitive he is. And he cums just as his tip brushes against your womb, shooting a near blank, as his head falls back, until you’re pulling him back to you to meet in a messy kiss that’s all tongue and teeth, until you fall over the edge, soaking his dick and lap in your juices as you continue to ride him, until you slump against him, panting in his ear, murmuring: 

“Happy anniversary, Kento.” 

RYOMEN SUKUNA

“Fuck, ngh, Sukuna, don’t use—hah—“ 

“You can take it, woman, you have before,” and his fingers fuck deeper into you, while his other hands grope at you — your chest, your hips, your ass, “gotta open you up if you’re gonna take both of my cocks, unless you want me to read you apart,” he’s sinking a third finger inside you, your head falling back, exposing your neck to his lips, leaning down to graze your pulse with his teeth. 

He just loved to do this — fuck you wide open with his fingers, let each of them stretch you out to no end, until you were begging for something else — anything else. 

“Motherfucker,” he’s bullying your cunt open with three of his fingers, but it’s more squeezing than stretching, as your slick drips down his large hand, “you’re gonna break me with your goddamn fingers,” and his other hands tweak your nipples, pinching and twisting them, making you yelp, as the pleasure builds, his fourth hand teasing your abused clit. 

“You’d fucking cum either way, whore,” and you glare for a millisecond until your traitorous cunt climaxes all the same, a long whine parting your lips as he fucks you knuckle deep, knocking at your cervix, through your orgasm, “shit, I see at least your slutty cunt can listen, unlike you,” and he’s still curling and twisting his fingers, before finally pulling them from you as you gasp, pussy aching from his touch, “complaining and yet you pruned my fingers, didn’t you?” he gives a smack to your twitching pussy, drawing another yelp from your lips, heat flooding your cheeks and anger rushing to your lips. 

“Talk awful big for someone who has four fucking arms and that’s the only way you know how to make me cum,” you spit venom without thought of who you’re spitting it at, until your body freezes, as he flips you over with ease, looming over you, all four of those same arms crossed, “Kuna—I—” 

“Is that so, brat? My fingers are the only thing that’s made you cum recently?” you stumble over your words, but his lips only curl into a mean grin, and you know you fucked up, “then let’s see about that,” 

“You can do better than that,” he grunts, a smirk on his lips as he watches you, riding his thigh lamely, drenched cunt making a mess, your slick running down the sides of his leg, “so fucking wet just from rubbing your cunt on me, don’t even to do anything to make my pussy cum, she does that all on her own,” 

You whimper, “Kuna, please—“ and he clicks his tongue. 

“Said you only came from my fingers, didn’t you?” He shows off his tied arms behind his back, the very same he had you tie while your pussy throbbed, wanting nothing more than his fingers stuffed up your hole again, “we gotta fix that, brat. Can’t have you saying I can only get this slutty cunt cumming one way,” he flexes his thigh, making you jerk against it, the wet squelch of your pussy dragging up and down his thigh, until he’s making you ride it, bouncing you on the muscle. 

God, why was every part of his body so fucking big? 

He could feel your puffy clit and lips open wide on his toned thigh, as if he could stuff his whole fucking knee in your hole, and you know he would if he could, but he settles for feeling your sloppy cunt flutter around nothing, slick dripping down his leg. 

He chuckles darkly, watching every movement with you, lidded eyes far too pleased with the view in front of him, “Seems like you don’t even need my help to get you off, do you brat?” he stops his movements, making you whine, and you can’t stop yourself from grinding down on his thigh, “that’s it, whore, need you to fucking soak me — think you’re so good, but when it comes down to it, you just want to be fucked like the rest of them, don’t you?” 

He uses his knee to catch your clit, rubbing meanly against it, and it’s too much, pleasure making your toes curl, as you can only moan his name again and again, “Fuck,” your fingers find purchase on his shoulders, chasing your high, as you fucked yourself open on his thigh. 

“That’s it girl, cum for me, let me see you break,” and he jerks his thigh again right as your cunt grinds down on him at just the right angle that has you seeing stars, “say my name,” 

And you do as you squirt all over his thigh, a gasp ripped from your throat as you moan his name, your eyes burning as your hips can’t stop riding him, seeking that high longer, the squelch of your messy cunt growing louder with every thrust of your hips. 

“Shit, that was a good orgasm, wasn’t it, woman? Much better than my fingers,” he flexes his thigh again, pulling another whine from your throat, legs shaking, but he only hums, as your eyes meet his, desperate and wanting, one that he only meets with a laugh, “practically begging for my cocks now, aren’t you, brat?” but he only clicks his tongue, “straddle me,” 

You hesitate, only for him to jerk his thigh, making you yelp once again, as you shift, and he does the same, moving back onto his plush bed, your cunt rubs against his cocks, soaking him with your slick, but he only smiles. 

“Did you think I would let you fuck my cocks that easily?” he sighs, shaking his head, “since I haven’t given you a proper orgasm, I think I have a lot of making up to do—” and he’s reaching around, slipping from your restraints with ease, “you’ll have to excuse my use of my hand this once, but I promise, I won’t be lifting another finger—” and he guides you forward, until you’re perched on his stomach, your hands splayed on his chest, as his hands slip back behind him. You furrow your brow a moment, lips parting with protest that dies on your lips when his stomach parts open for his large tongue to lap at your cunt, “you made such a mess, woman, now,” he forces you in place with his gaze alone, as his tongue licks the length of your sloppy cunt,  “let’s clean you up, hm?”

CHOSO KAMO

“We don’t have to do this, Cho,” 

You always did anything for him. From the moment you met him, you were the one to dote on him — even with how clueless he was about most things, from holding hands to kissing to even sex — you were willing to take your time, teach him what it meant to love. And he loved you — and he loved this. 

“N-no, I’m fine, it just—hah, it feels so good,” and he looked even better. 

His dark locks were untied as he looked up at you, arms tied in scarlet silk behind his back, much like the blood he manipulated, but instead it was you that was controlling him. The delicate yet strong Shibari knot was nestled at the base of his wrists, deep red against pale skin, more intricate knots climbed the base of his spine until the silk split across his back and winded around the middle of his shoulders towards his neck. 

A knot formed at the base of his neck, right between his collarbone, multiple other loops framed his body, a present not meant to be unwrapped. Knots placed intricately at every pleasure point meaning that even the slightest touch, movement, or even breath would send pleasure thrumming through his body. 

“Doesn’t it feel good to take our time?” Your fingers brushed delicately over a knot placed against his nipple, making him jolt, sending ripples of heat across his body, as the rubbing of the knots sent arousal right to his erection, “you’re always in such a rush, so eager, but now,” your fingers follow the silk down his body, down to the knots settled on either side against the base of his cock, “we can take it slow,”

And he was always quick to have you — from the first time, Choso barely had lasted you grazing his raging hard erection while your lips found his, before spilling all over your fingers. And he had sputtered apologies, cheeks as red as the silk that now bound him, but you had only smiled and asked him if he liked it. He spent the rest of the night spilling over and over again in your cunt, and each time after, he barely needed foreplay, he could cum just by eating you out — all he wanted and needed was to be buried in your cunt. 

But now, he was at your mercy. 

“So pretty, Cho,” you cooed, eyes sliding over him just as sweat slipped down his neck  — he was spread open by the loops of red forcing him into a kneel around his thighs and ankles, even ropes tied around his hips with knots placed perfectly against his inner thighs, “usually I can’t even touch you without you pinning me down, but now I can do all I want,” 

“Please, love, I need—“ and you lean down to kiss the hollow of his throat, fingers toying with the silk between your fingers, and every little movement of the ropes sent pleasure cascading down his body, “ngh, want you—“ 

“What do you want, Choso?” Your fingers work your way down every inch of him, “because there’s so much I can give you—-“ 

“Anything,” he replies, as the knots rub against his leaking cock, precum slipping down his halls, “everything, please I just need—“ and you click your tongue. 

“Still so impatient,” and your touch leaves him, making him whimper, “I guess we’ll have to work on that,” 

“Baby, no, can’t. No more—“ a beautiful symphony of moans leaves his lips, as your lips find his to swallow his protests, a vibrator in hand pressed to the base of his cock, “I can’t—-“ 

“You can cum still, Cho, one more time f’me,” cum is splattered on your carpet, and runs down his dick, “you’re so good for me, such a good boy, aren’t you?” Your praise makes him keen all the same, “know you love this, love feeling good — you’re so needy, probably would just bury your cock in my cunt,” and he’s whining, as your fingers tug on his black locks, your tongue dragging up the side of his throat, before your teeth dig into the soft flesh of your neck, “but we can’t have that, not yet — gotta make you cum so much that just burying you in my pussy is enough to make you cum,”

And you’re turning up the vibrator, and he moans your name, a rush of heat sent right to your cunt. Your eyes watch his dick twitch — he’s more long than thick, his tip flushed an angry red as you work the vibrator up and down. You couldn’t wait to stuff him inside you, feel the curve of his cock reach every inch of your cunt, until he’s fucking your stomach. 

“F-fuck, I’m close—I’m gonna—“ and you turn the vibrator higher, pressing it right between the base of his cock as you tug on the silk right against it, and he’s coming again, with a cry of your name, spilling all over his stomach and chest and the ropes, “sweets, fuck, hah, please, please, I can’t—” 

You ease away the vibrator, the whirring quieting, as he looked up at you with his eyes, violet pupils so dark that they nearly look black, a trickle of his spit slipping from his lips. 

“You did so good, baby, so so good,” and you’re pressing soft kisses to his face, fingers tracing over the hickies you had littered his neck with, “and now tell me what you want baby,”

“I want you, want you to fuck me, need you to—“ and you’re pushing him back, still spread open from the ropes before you settle on top of him, his needy dick already hard from the rubbing from the ropes and the feeling of your wet cunt against him. 

And you grin, before letting his cock split you open, down to the base, making his back arch into you, the twitch of his tip telling you he would cum again in two seconds flat — just as he did for you, “Anything for you, Choso.”

TOJI FUSHIGURO

Toji loved it when you were desperate for him. 

And you always nearly were. You had the habit of jumping his bones the minute he made his way back from another bounty, not to mention the times he feigned to be late, you were already an orgasm and half ahead of him in the bedroom, taunting him for being late. And it was the most mundane of things that could turn you on — the simple adjustment of his pants, a smile he flashed you after a joke, lifting his shirt to scratch his stomach, and even running his fingers through his hair. 

Just one of those things would have you tugging him home and neither of you would see the outside of your bedroom for the next two days. 

That being said, when he actually messed with you…well—

“Toji,” you glare at him, gaze a mixture of frustration and lust, “if you tease me on this car ride home, I swear to god—“ 

“Swear what, doll?” He drawled, eyes still fixed on the road, lips pulled into that same smirk he always had, “not like you won’t be able to resist fucking yourself stupid on my dick when we get home,” 

“Fuck off,” you scowl out the window, and his smirk only grows larger, cock stirring in his pants. He loved riling you up — especially when it was so easy, but also because it made him want to fuck you all the same, until you were begging him with glassy eyes and slutty moans. 

It had only started because he saw a man at the store eye you the wrong way. So his hand slid to the small of your back, turning to meet the gaze of the man leering before squeezing your ass, drawing a gasp from your lips and a pout. And he didn’t miss the subtle press of your thighs together as you walked off, the way your eyes lingered on him, dragging down until your teeth bore down on your bottom lip. 

Fuck. And he couldn’t stop. Then it was him pressing up behind you while you were rifling through clothes, letting you feel his half hard erection. And then he was pressing open mouthed kisses to your neck in the changing room when you asked him to zip you up in a dress. 

“That’s exactly what I wanna do, doll,” he turns the corner, “wanna fuck you open with my fingers until you beg me to stop, want our neighbors to hear how I slut you out every night,” your fingers curl into the fabric of your dress, and he knows you must be a mess under that thin fabric, soaking through your panties, “don’t make a fucking mess of your seat, car’s a loaner from Shiu,”

“And who’s fault is it that I’m making a mess in the first place, asshole?” And your husband shrugs, leaning back as he rolls to a stop at the last light before you rolled into your neighborhood. His hand reaches across the console, his large, calloused palm sliding up your bare thigh, until it breaches your edge of your underwear, making your body tense. And the pads of his fingers press against the soaking fabric of panties. 

“Well, who’s the one who’s wet like a whore from a few words right now?” And finally the light turns green, and his hand retreats, instead resting on your thigh, drawing circles on your knee with his thumb, same smug grin on his lips, “almost home, and I’ll shut her up, won’t I?” 

And he would — but you’d shut him up too. 

“Hah, To-ji, fuck, s’good—“ and his lips close around your puffy clit and suck hard, his tongue slipping in and out of your messy hole, “k-knew your mouth was good for something,” and you yelp when you feel his teeth bite your clit, before he’s redoubling his efforts, swirling, sucking, and licking, “not so fucking annoying when your mouth is full,” your moans fill his ears, and he growls against your folds, his wrists bound with a cursed tool that neutralized his strength, one that you had slipped from his collection for a moment like this. 

Shit, he was so fucking hard, and he couldn’t even fist himself, but more than that, he wanted to pin you down, stuff your cunt full of his fingers until you begged for him to stop. His tongue wasn’t enough for his slutty pussy, he wanted to fuck you right — the way he wanted. But if this was the game you wanted to play, he would — his wrists rubbed raw from trying to slip from his restraints — for now. 

He slurps at your sweet cunt, large tongue licking a stripe after stripe up your messy cunt, grinding down, as his nose bumped and dragged against your clit, “Such a fucking slut, soaking my face like this — wanna cum so bad, g’nna tie me up just so you can get yourself off?” 

“Ngh, it’s your fucking fault pulling that shit in the mall, if you hadn’t—” you moan, cutting you off by tongue fucking your cunt open, swallowing every drop of your juices as he bullied your walls open with that sharp tongue of his. 

“It’s not my fault your fucking ass attracts the attention of every freak in sight—” 

You scoff, “Like you?” and he chuckles darkly, making your smirk drop from your lips, as he grinds his face into your folds, his face glossy with your pre, as dark eyes meet yours, and you can feel the smirk against your needy pussy.

“But this is the freak that fucks you isn’t it?” his tongue traces fast circles around your clit, “the freak you beg to fuck you open every night, the one who’s dick you can’t enough of, the one who’s face you’re fucking, isn’t that right, wife?” 

And you’re so fucking close, the way he ate you out was the same way he kissed you, as if he wanted to take you, all of you, until his jaw would ache, until tears ran down your face, until there was nothing left of you for him to taste. 

“Toji, I’m close—I can’t—” and he’s grunting, as he sucks hard on your clit, licking and slurping at your pussy. 

“Cum, make a fucking mess on my face,” and you do, cumming hard as you moan his name, but he continues to eat you out as you ride out your orgasm, not letting a single drop of your juices go to waste — lapping and sucking until you finally stilled, your panting filling the silence of the room. 

Until you heard a rip. 

And then you were on your back, ripped up parts of the cursed tool tossed aside, as Toji grinned down at you, lips and chin still shiny with your release, as his pink tongue darted out to collect it. 

“Toji—I—” and he’s smirking down at you, tilting his head, as he forces your thighs apart to reveal your all too sensitive folds, “ngh, please, I can’t—” 

He clicks his tongue, licking his lips agai, “Now, lemme show you how much of a freak I am, doll.”

✧ a/n: this was an anon request i got a while back and i've had gojo's written for so long, but i got hit hella by writer's block and imposter's syndrome so, well here it is now :). this is to tide you guys over as i work through some larger projects