#but god fuck the royal family so so much

[lotus-pear]

i love you royal trio (minus akechi)

[pseudophan]

honestly they were disrespectful to themselves. they let it get completely out of hand for a MONTH. the palace did this to themselves

yeah... look nobody will get me to agree with people being like 'conspiracy theorists have gone too far' 'you've all been disrespectful towards catherine' 'there was never a reason for any of this' 'you should be ashamed for what you said' etc etc etc. because like... first of all, again, i hold zero respect for these people. why the fuck should i. but even if i did... it's their own fucking fault???? the fuck?????? lmao?????????? literally only a handful of people gave a fuck until that doctored photo. and then they just kept making it worse. and i'm sorry but i actually don't think they're entitled to their privacy when their entire job is pr and they're blatantly lying in all their pr shit like ? what else are you good for lol. but then that also makes me angry because as much as i don't like kate for several reasons i'm still a bit genuinely offended at her behalf for how they've handled all this shit.. like making her take the blame for the photoshop (i hope for her sake it was her own idea, because otherwise........), having her appear alone in the video announcing her cancer (why tf isn't william there when she's talking about how he's by her side lmao), the general just lack of giving a fuck about anything whilst the world went wild theorising about her.... i can't tell whether she's taking the fall to cover for something else or if they're just all absolute assholes ?? again like. i don't like kate middleton. for many reasons. but i like william and charles a whole lot less and it's infuriating that they're making me feel like she's been wronged lmao

[trickarrows-bishop]

Please be respectful when talking about the Queen. She was a head of state, a monarch, a mother to multiple pedophiles and most importantly a devoted cousin to her husband

anon you have no idea the jokes i made when the queen died. i couldn't have given less of a SHIT that she passed. i was more bothered about the free day i was getting off from school.

[abyssalpriest]

if i disappear after saying that ive been assassinated no jokes aside if i take that down its not bc i disagree with it, you can still pin it on me as a belief that i think that shit should be said and ill put my whole ass behind it, but saying shit like that has consequences lmfao. also theres a time and a place to bring that up

[pyrotechnicdarts]

avoiding school work by drawing my weird little warforged fighter and her wife(cursed sword)

[ctrlhope]

Bound By Blood (m)

synopsis: A servant to the state since birth, forced to work for the royal family until you die. These are the conditions that have granted you life, yet are they are the same ones that can take everything away. He can take everything away. But he would never, for you are his future, his eternity.

k.taehyung x f.reader

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: wc: 16.0k

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: genre: royalty au, soft yandere, fluff, smut, smidge of angst

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: content: soft yandere!prince!taehyung, maid!reader, power imbalance, talks about death/violence, blood, slight predator/prey dynamics, manipulation, misunderstandings, dom!tae, tae calls reader lamb, oral (f.receiving), marriage related dirty talk, virginity kink/loss of virginity, size kink, praise, reader is fucked dumb, implied kissing reader while she sleeps, implied offscreen somno, implied stalking, ownership, tae is rlly sweet and adorable

❦︎ ݁ ˖┊: notes: hello!!! this was meant to be a drabble but as you can see it spiralled out of control lmao. i got a little hyper fixated (and grew a really bad crush on this taehyung) so it ended up being way longer than i initially thought! regardless, i hope you all enjoy it as much as i did writing it!!

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni

The Kim Empire. 

Your home, your family, your livelihood all wrapped up in those three little words.

They practically brandish your mind, have been since you were no more than a babe. Stuck in the clutches of everything Kim since you were born. Your mother a maid, your father gone from the face of the earth. At least as far as you are concerned he is, anyway. 

He is better off dead. The alternative of him living scott free in some far off land, meanwhile you have to serve the hand and foot of the king sets no more than the bitter taste of coffee beans against your gums. 

Bedding your mother, no more than a fresh-faced maid at the time. Outcasting her the second after when he had to have known the rules of the palace. The demise it would cost both her and her future daughter. Perhaps every generation that followed as well– if there were to be any, that is. 

Housestaff are not meant to have relationships. They are meant to serve the king and his bountiful family. How are you meant to do anything else with a child bouncing at your hip, a husband grabbing at your ass. 

You’ve heard the speech plenty of times. The words ingrained in your skull just as the brand you received when you were far too young to remember the pain of it. Evidence that you are bound to the palace by blood until the very moment you take your last breath. 

The punishment for becoming pregnant within the walls of the palace are simple: your child belongs to them. For anything within the Kim Estate is their rightful property, given to them by the grace of god. 

You, a gift from god to serve the empire. You would snort at the notion if training from a young age prohibited it. You are just a result of your mothers kindness, her naivety. 

You could never find it within your heart to blame her. She was just a girl who thought she was in love. Fired for her love. Had her daughter taken from her to serve for her love.

Love is something you will never be granted the property of. 

You will be granted an allowance to send home to your mother to keep her afloat. You will be granted a room to sleep in, clothes to wear, food to eat. A secure job in which you can never be fired– well. That is a lie. Though, your termination would come at the end of an axe, rather than a piece of paper. 

You used to muse at the thought– when you were a young girl, no more than 11 or 12. Going through your melancholy years, hating the rest of the world for simply existing. For putting you in a position where you could not change your fate, instead had to endure your present. Feeling like a  girl trapped in a tower just like the bedtime stories had always prescribed. 

One time you had caused such a ruckus in front of the oldest Kim son you really did think you were going to get the axe. Hell, you were even prepared for it. Locked away in a cell for two nights, brought before the executor. 

Right before the swing was meant to be brought down against your neck the head maid ran into the room, gave some sort of letter to the man. She apologised profusely, gripping your ear and dragging you away from the scene. 

You hadn’t acted ary since then. It taught you your place. Made you realise the need to survive buried deep within your bones. In the innate way some sort of wildcat would lash out until it was bloodied and on its last breath. 

You would not die at the end of a knife. You’d live your life, acting a maid until you could die peacefully of old age. Even if it meant surrendering yourself to servitude for the most annoying brat you’ve ever laid eyes on. 

A quiet sigh slips past your lips at the mere thought of him. The sound would get you punished if anyone were to hear, especially in respect to the coveted crown prince of the kingdom. Few share the same opinion as you of him– but then again most that work here aren’t forced. 

It is only when the stars are strung high in the sky that you allow yourself to feel such things. When you stay awake past the beginning of rest hours, most of the staff (save for the night shift) falling to sleep hours prior. Only then when you’re out in the gardens do you allow indignation to satiate your brain. 

For the few hours of freedom you may hold dear until the next morning begins and you are forced to live the same day once more. Over and over again until the end of time. 

Your fingertips reach out as you walk, bruised from the scrubbing of floors, to find purchase against the walls of flowers rimming the maze. Rough fingertips dance against the gentle petals of roses, lulling in the feeling. Picking themselves against the thorns without much of a thought, not withdrawing. Only pausing feet to observe. 

How can something so delicate and beautiful wish to cause harm? It does not. It simply desires a way to survive. You could never fault it for that. 

“Pretty, are they not?” A dark, husky voice sends cold down your spine. Hairs become on edge, back straightens taught, ears perk just as if you are an obedient dog. Fear flashing through your entire being.

You do not wish to turn around. Do not have any want to face the man that has caught the air in your lungs. The one catching you in the garden without any proper attire in place. Though you must. You must bow, grovel at his feet for forgiveness for allowing him to see you in your nightgown. For not being in bed as you should. 

Prince Kim has never been known for being kind. 

Your body acts for you while your mind sets on pause– taking several steps forward, bending your body at the hips to give a proper 90 degree bow. Your hands clasp before you, hair coming down in front of your face. 

“Prince Kim–” You rush, suddenly out of breath, “Please forgive my insolence. I-I am not of right attire or mind to be standing in front of his excellency right now. Nor should I be excused for touching the property of the palace. I have no proper excuse and any punishment you decide will be deserving. Please forgive me.” The words recite from your lips like a bible– instruction of them being heard time and time again. 

Cold night air whips at your ankles, fluttering the gown around your ankles. The chill only adding to the cold sweat you’ve discovered has perspired. Making your hair dance around your shoulders.

You expect something, anything really. A slap, a single word. Though there is only silence in response. Silence that extends far too long and feels far too pungent for your taste. If he was going to do something, you rather he just get it over with. 

After what feels like an eternity, you finally hear the baritone of his voice once more.

“Pretty, are they not?” He asks again, repeating the same sentiments as before. Confusion bristles through as a kite in the summer air. Why is he asking you this? Is he not annoyed he caught a maid in such a level of disrobement? What is he trying to gain? What does he want? 

All the questions you do not have any hope to answer rush through you causing you to feel confused and incomposed. Every boring lesson you were forced to sit through never taught you how to deal with this exact situation. You aren’t sure what he wants, nor your place in the garden. The thought scares you. 

Against your better judgement, you allow your chin to tilt up only slightly. Only enough to look at the man– to try and read the expression on his face so you can better analyse your next action. 

The shock you feel when you find his face is only inches from your own, frame bent down to make his eyes level with yours is something you cannot explain in words alone. 

You would prefer to scream and run, however that is not an option at this moment, or so it appears. Instead, your eyes only widen in shock, in trepidation. Your mouth opens into a small ‘o’ as you stare.

Never before have you made eye contact with a member of the family. Never before have you had the luxury to view one so close. In any other circumstance, you suppose, you would surely be punished for such a thing. Someone lower should never view a future king in such a way.

You wish you could say he was a heinous, ugly beast for hatred of the palace alone. Yet you can’t, for he isn’t. He is beautiful. 

Sure, you knew that already. Paintings of him are plastered across the walls– his face is everywhere eyes are able to reach. Yet this close, at this angle, you can’t stop the way your heart skips a beat. Can’t help but admire every facet of his complexion before being thrown in front of the lion again. 

A gorgeous, blinding smile wipes across his face the moment you face him. Lips forming into an adorable box after he finally has your attention fully drawn on him. You’re startled back once again, sending your brain into a further whirlwind than before. 

He desires an answer.

“I um… Yes. I suppose they are.” You nod slowly in response, following in his footsteps as he returns to full height. 

You must follow his lead– it is how you will survive. 

You usher a stray lock of hair over your shoulder, trying to stop it from hitting your face. The air starts to become stale again, feeling empty in the lack of his reply. It is awkward, and the way he stares at you, eyes darting around your face– your figure, has you feeling in some sort of girlish, embarrassed way. 

You think you dislike the feeling. 

“Are you a fan of roses?” His arms are pulled behind him, wrapped together as he bounces on his toes in something that looks like… boyish delight? The muddle of your brain can't help to understand a single thing. He is making no sense, trying to make conversation with you. Trying to find a morsel of companionship in someone who is meant to bow to him like he is the true god of your mortal plain.

You will have to oblige until he allows you to depart. 

“I suppose so.” 

He frowns. Try again.

“I adore them, the palace always has the most gorgeous petals all year round.” You smile at him, hoping it masks any discomfort you feel. 

The smile returns to his own lips as he begins to walk. Tilting his head to you as a cue to join him. You try to keep your paces a few behind his own, a maid should never walk beside a member of the family. Though he only slows in response, matching your gate even though it is obvious he hates having to slow down. 

Why is he behaving in this manner? It makes no sense to you. 

“The flower of devotion.” He nods, breaking the silence once more and keeping his eyes straight ahead. 

You almost want to admire his profile– the gentle curve of his nose, yet you refrain. Training your eyes ahead, keeping your fingers laced in front of you. Trying to look as put together as possible at this moment. 

“Is it?” You quiz, unable to take the awkward silence anymore. He doesn’t seem to mind it. Unbothered, tucking his hands into the pockets of his loose, flowing sleep pants. 

“Of many other things, as well.” He nods, sending a slight smile at you. 

“I don’t know much about the language of flowers.” Though it feels wrong to be talking with Prince Kim so casually, you try your best. The more you give in, mayhaps the sooner he’ll bore and the faster you will be able to run from the cage. 

“Tell me your favourite, maybe I can tell you its meaning.” He pauses and you find yourself at the foot of the gazebo. He reaches out his hand, offering to help you up the small stairs of it. 

All over again you find yourself taken aback. The prince is requesting that you touch him, not for his service, but your own. He desires to help you. Is for some reason treating you like a lady. 

You don’t understand it, yet with great hesitation you oblige. You place your hand on his much larger one, allowing it to encase it. Help you up the stairs.

“I don’t know many…” You hope he cannot hear the hesitation in your tone, “Though I’ve always been fond of lilies.” You tell him, attempting to pull your hand away from his own as you reach the top. 

He doesn’t allow it, keeping your small palm tight in his own. Fear trickles in once more, circling around your heart, constricting it. 

You knew you shouldn’t have trusted him in the slightest. It is here where you shall face punishment for all the previous misdemeanours committed. White stone shall be painted with red and you will be left to your own devices to clean up the mess.

Your lungs start to take in more air, though of course you try to disguise it. Turning around to face him, to discover why he has kept you held firm, air is leaving your lungs for another reason entirely. 

He holds your hand close, examining your fingers. Tilting it back and forth, smoothing his thumb over the back of your skin. If he takes note of the little dots of red, he doesn’t make comment of it. He only curls his fingers upwards, hooking against your own. Bringing your hand up to his lips as if it was the most delicate thing on earth. Staring at them with a passion you doubt you’ve ever seen before.

“Rebirth.” His breath fans across your knuckles, slowly lowering to place a gentle kiss against the skin. His lips are soft, so gentle against your weary flesh. So full of safety, so full of song.

When he retracts, he pulls away no more than a millimeter, though his grip tightens. 

“Purity.”

Your first meeting with the prince had left you with a flurry of emotions, none of which you could hope to syphon through. For hours he kept you in the gazebo, sitting with you. Talking until it appeared the sun was cresting over the horizon. 

He refused to release your hand the entire time. His fingers playing with your own, perhaps obsessed with the feeling of your tiny hand laced with his own pristine skin. Did not pay any attention the several times you tried to excuse yourself, only changing the subject of conversation to try and keep you in place.

It was strange. Confusing. You did not understand the reasoning or cause behind any of his actions. 

Well, at least until the next morning while you were scrubbing the floors. Your friend Annabell cleaning right by your side. Catching up, gossiping about the new recruits found in the manner. It is only times like these when you actually get the chance to talk, to giggle with someone meant to be your equal in both age and house status. 

The only chance you’re truly able to forget about the fact she is able to leave once her contract expires. But it does not matter– any small amount of spite you hold is slashed away by her kind smile. The understanding in her eyes as she treats you like just another maid set to work for the king instead of a captive. 

It is only after the 7th yawn of the morning she asks about the poorly covered bags under your eyes. You had gone to bed with the rest of the girls, there is no reason you should be so tired. You never appear to be, at least it is not shown around others.

You struggle with yourself for a moment, trying to decide whether the night before was meant to be kept as a closely guarded secret to your chest. Yet one look at your closest confidant had you spilling everything. 

The entire night– the stars, the flowers, the way he prattled on. How tight he gripped your dirty, calloused hand against his pristine soft ones. 

You feel strange speaking of it, remembering it in any way. It causes your cheeks to heat and a fury to settle below your ribs. 

It is a strange feeling, yet not an entirely unwanted one. 

Your eyes train to the floor as you spill your soul, unable to keep it in once it starts pouring out. You try to keep your tone as neutral as possible– to tell her about the night as if it was a simple news story you heard from a guard. Though, you’re unsure of your success in the matter. 

A poised laugh leaves the lips of your counter, her eyes cresting into half-moons. 

“You cannot be serious right? You tell stories.” She giggles, shaking her head before continuing her assault on the floor. 

You simply shake your own. 

“It happened, I was as shocked in the moment as you seem to be now.” She lets out a small bellow of giggles once again. 

“No, no. I believe it happened entirely. I’m only talking about the fluster of your face.” She giggles, lifting her rag and shaking it for dramatic effect. You roll your eyes, cracking a small smile.

“There is no such thing.” You laugh knowing that there is. 

“Oh my heavens. Y/n, you cannot tell me you’ve grown fond of the Prince, have you?” Her words are hushed now, much more so than before. As if someone may be listening to the conversation. 

You tense in reply, unsure of the answer yourself. The closest you’ve ever felt to fondness of another man was a stable boy a few years back. Only 17 at the time, head wrapped in romance novels that you didn’t entirely understand. He was handsome and he was kind. However just as you were starting to become closer to him, he was sent away to work at another palace. 

You had not been optimistic since then.

She takes your silence as an answer in itself. Moving towards you, gripping your shoulders and hauling you to sit on your haunches. Forcing you to look at her face as she speaks. 

“You cannot be serious.” She repeats again, hoping for any sign of doubt. All she receives is bewilderment in reply, “Y/n. You can never trust Prince Kim.” 

You sigh, “I know, Anne, I–” You’re cut off with her own voice again.

“No, not in the way you’re imagining.” She sighs, letting her hands drop from your shoulders to continue scrubbing at the floor. Making work of herself as she speaks, “The other maids don’t tell you of much, do they?” 

You can’t deny it. Your seclusion within the castle walls is only partly of your own design. 

Other maids do not feel as though they can trust you, seeing as you are full property of the crown. In their eyes, you hold not a crumb of loyalty to your own kind. Few maids speak to you like Annabell does for fear the second they say anything wrong you are going to tell the world. 

You would never, though your word is worth its weight in feathers to them.

“They don’t care for me as you do… no…” You admit, continuing to clean as well. She already knew the answer, letting out an exhale before she speaks.

“Prince Kim has a pension for… debauchery… I shall say,” She flinches at her own words, yet doesn’t know a better way to put it, “The variety in which he uses pretty words to seduce young ladies to bed with him. Royalty from other lands, general’s daughters, maids. It matters not. He likes them for the night then pretends they shall never exist again.” 

Each word she speaks sends another stab into your gut. A dull pain blooming from the same places which a swirling was forming before. 

Ah. It all makes sense now. 

“Oh.”

“He has a particular fondness for the other maids, you know. Bedding them without a second thought.” A grimace forms on your friend's lips, scrubbing harder into the already shining floors, “There is no reason to form any sort of affection for that man. It will only end with his seed inside your core and a knife in your heart.” 

Yes, everything she is saying makes perfect sense. You feel almost stupid to not see it before. Maybe you just didn’t want to see it– want to think about it in any sort of fashion. But this makes much more sense than the crown prince wanting to speak to you for any other purpose. Explains why he was acting as a true gentleman to someone so much lower than him. 

However, you find that it does not take away the cavernous pit that has formed in your gut. 

“I see, I have no desire for either.” You nod your head in understanding, not sure of what else to say. “I don’t understand why he’s taken an interest in me, though.” 

She gawks, “I don’t understand why it has taken him so long to in the first place.” She shakes her head.

“Nevertheless, it doesn’t matter. Y/n, you must promise me. You will not fall for him, nor give any part of yourself to him. He is not someone that will care for you like you deserve.” She states, blue eyes piercing icicles into your own. She is determined and will not relent until you agree.

“I do not wish to. Not after hearing all of…” You make some sort of motion with your hand, “that. Anyone would be a fool to like him.” 

You nod your head while Annabell smiles in agreement. 

“Good.” 

Those are the last words you exchange with anyone for hours. The rest of the day passed by with lightning, an endless turnstile of things to take care of. A ball was to be held soon meaning the castle would be a wreck for the next few days. Too much planning, cleaning, sewing, coordination had to take place before anyone could rest. 

Honestly, you were grateful for it. A break from thinking was much needed. As is a good night’s rest. 

You sigh, already imagining how lovely it would feel to pull off your shoes for the day. Peel the cotton off your body and replace your dress with something more comfortable. 

Oo! Hopefully enough warm water will be left for a quick bath. That would be just wonderful, your muscles would be able to unfurl. The perfect thing to lull you into a glorious sleep.

Your arms stretch over your head as you finish descending the staircase into the maid hallways. Bones in your back pop from the pressure, causing a sigh to make its way from your lungs. Your nimble fingers make their way to the ribbon holding your hair in place, untying it and allowing the tresses to fall. 

Soon you would be in the maid resting quarters– your appearance would matter not there anyway. 

You send small smiles to other staff members passing you, those that have either just woken for the night or those who still have work to do. Yet in return, each one of them just stares at you with an incredulous look. Turning and whispering to their friends as if you were not still in front of them. 

You can’t help to understand why. Those around you may not have considered you a friend, but they were never rude. Always polite when need be. It has you feeling strange, some type of nervousness as you get closer and closer to the hallway extending to the maids personal rooms. 

Rounding the corner, you discover exactly why. 

His frame looks entirely out of place standing there. A perfect, pristine picture in a hallway of drab, illuminated only by the lanterns hanging on the wall. Royal blue tunic draped on his shoulders only emphasising his status. 

He looks as though he was never meant to be here. Like a mistake was made along the cobblestone walls. No, he looks as though he is meant to be among the living. Not in your dreary, windowless life. Nothing could change that. 

You stand there frozen, a deer caught in the lanturn of a hunting party. A pounding of your heart, as well as the dark swell of your gut coming back to life. Why is he here? Why the hell does he have a bouquet of flowers?!

You wish to scream, but you don’t. You have already been caught. 

His eyes look up from where he created a small pile of dirt on the floor. His face coming alight in an instant, pushing himself to full stature from where he once leaned against the wall. Long legs making their way towards you while he suddenly has the decency to hide the bouquet behind his back. 

Annabell certainly did not mention this method of Prince Kim’s seduction. You had never seen him down here before. 

“Hi.” Is all he says once he is finally face to face with you. His face bright and youthful. Excited.

It seems all formalities have been dropped in his mind, though you refuse the notion. 

“Prince Kim.” You simply reply, lowering yourself in a curtsy. 

He pays no mind, almost pretending you never did it in the first place. Instead, he simply rocks back and forth on his heels, bouncing slightly in delight. Wanting something, unable to voice it. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” You ask, hoping to end the encounter swiftly to stop all of the prying eyes leering into your being. 

“I brought you something.” His eyes do not break contact with yours once and you can see his hand twitch by his side as if it wants to reach out for something. You're glad he has the decency to hold back, so you shall do the same by pretending you never saw the flowers in the first place. 

You choose not to ask yourself why he brought you a present. It must just be a trick of seduction.

“I am honoured to accept such a thing.” You send a small smile his way, something between real and fake. It seems to make him beam. 

His arm comes out from behind, holding the flowers between both of your bodies. You look down at them, shock written across your features. 

Sure, you had noted them as flowers before. But you think these may be the prettiest ones you’ve seen in your whole life. Petals of orange, white, and purple cloud in your eyes. Stomatas filled with the sweet pollen.

Lilies. All different kinds– ones you’ve never seen before.

They’re out of season, at least you think they are. How did he get these? Why is he giving them to you? Why is he trying to get the butterflies to return? Why is he trying to make your heart explode?

“Prince Kim…” You’re not sure what to say– instead gently reaching out to feel the velvet of a petal. Staring intently at their colours, unable to pull your eyes away. 

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” His voice is a husk of a whisper, as if you’re the only two in the hallway. As if other maids are not passing, as if they are not staring at the two of you.

“Yes… I… I’m not sure what to say.” It is all so hypnotic. 

“Thank you would be a good beginning, no?” His smile is soft, a light chuckle present in the tone.

You pause, tilting your head to look up at him fully– a large, real smile donning your lips.

“Yes. Thank you.” 

You feel as if you are floating, just as you would when reading those romance books in your late teen years. Like the world has stopped moving save for the prince in front of you slowly passing the flowers into your arms. 

Your hands brush against each other and you feel his fingers twitch, tightening ever so slight. Wishing to grab onto your hand just as he had done the night before. Wishing to insect every line that traces over your fresh once more.

However, he refrains. Allowing his ringed fingers to sink themselves into his pockets.

“I was just going to have them delivered. I’m not really meant to be down here, you know,” His smile is shy, “But I didn’t know your room. That, and I wanted to see you again.” 

You look down, unable to keep the eye contact he presses you for. Prince Kim is too much for you. You don’t understand how he couldn’t be too much for anyone. 

“Oh…” You’re a flush, “Thank you for saying that.” 

“It is nothing to thank me for.” He chuckles, bangs dimming the hues of his eyes, “I’m sure I bored you with all of my ramblings.” 

He did, partly, but that was more discombobulation for the situation and a sense of tiredness creeping into your bones. You shake your head quickly.

“Of course not. I had.. Fun.” Mayhaps fun isn’t the right term, yet there is no word that exactly describes your emotions of last night, nor the ones of today.

“As did I.” His lips are tight in a smile again, feet bouncing on their heels once more. He’s nervous, wants to say something again but isn’t sure how.

You’re not sure how to feel about learning what that habit means. Not sure how to feel about what any of this means. You have not had a moment alone to truly dissect what all of it is. 

“I would love to spend the night talking to you again, if you would allow me.” You don’t think you would love anything more, yet you know you would not be able to function. Would probably make a fool of yourself, too. 

“I-I think it would be best if I were to get some rest… I had not even an hour before I had to start working last night.” 

He frowns, “That’s not good for your health…” He pauses, searching your face for any signs of distress, “Then let's talk in your room. I will only stay until you sleep.” 

You pause, air drifting back into your lungs.

Ah. Right. 

The words of your friend sink in once again, breaking you out of whatever trance he had put you under. Whatever spell he laced through both of your ears to have you singing songs of praises for him and the crown. 

He wants you as a notch in a bedpost. Nothing more. It is clear as day and you are a fool to think anything other than that. This is all just a cleverly rehearsed show. You will not fall victim like your mother. 

All royalty is the same. Use use use. Beat a dead horse until it stops coughing up any sort of reprise. 

Your posture is suddenly tense, fist gripping the flowers so tight your knuckles appear white. 

How dare he think so low of you. How dare he think he might be able to fuck you for nothing. 

“Men are not allowed in the women's private quarters.” Your voice is staunch, though it is not as if he can tell nor cares. 

If he does, he doesn’t show it. 

“Ah,” The lilt is still evident in his tone, the cat playing with the mouse, “But I am not any man, am I?” His body leans a bit closer, pulling his face parallel to your own. Smirk playing on his lips. 

Beauty is a deceptive thing, isn’t it? “When I am king I’ll make it so I can see you whenever we both desire.” Something heats in your gut at those words, yet anger quells it just as fast. 

“It is a shame that you are not King yet, then.” You nod politely in his direction, trying to excuse yourself. Yet your words only seem to excite something in his eyes, lighting a fire behind them. 

“My, I didn’t know you felt that way.” He smiles coy. A flustered sensation overcomes you as you realise the double meaning behind your words. You had made it sound like you wanted him in that way when that could not be farther from the truth.

“I do not.” You state, your voice ice. Though once again, it seems that it does not pierce him. 

“There is no reason to be so cold, Y/n.” He sing songs, tapping one of his long fingers against the side of his head. 

“I am not being cold! You are just not listening.” You sigh in exasperation. Exhaustion and annoyance make you forget yourself, causing your volume to rise just as his own does. This only seems to excite him more. 

“I have heard enough.” He giggles, boyish and what others would describe as cute. Right before you’re able to argue back once again, he cuts in with his own voice once more.

“I will leave you for now. Find a pretty place for the flowers.” 

He smiles generously at you, beginning to walk away, “Have a good night. I’ll see you soon.” 

In your shamble of a disposition, you’re left stuck there. Staring at his back as he retreats down the hallway. 

The shock of everything that had just transpired coming over you all at once. How poorly you had behaved. How you spoke to him. He could have you killed for any one of those things however instead he left you with a bouquet of flowers and a promise for another night. 

You scramble to find yourself, to move yourself from out of the eyeline of every other maid. To make your way to your room, your one sanctuary as quickly as possible. 

It is only when you’re in those walls, hard oak door shut firmly beside you that you have to remind yourself of your promise to your best friend. Remember that the prince fights his battles with words and emotions. 

Your second meeting with the man had left you even more confused than the first. Thousands of questions and emotions real through your bones at a pace your brain can’t manage to understand. Leaves you fuming, trying to form a single coherent thought as you analyse the last two nights with a ferocity unimagined. 

In your state, however, you neglect to think of the one question that should be dancing before you, held on a string just out of reach. 

Why did he know your name? 

It is apparent that since that night, Prince Kim has located which room you find habitance in. 

This morning, another letter has found itself slipped under the base of your door. They have become commonplace now– letters detailing apologies for why he was unable to visit, what he had gone about on his day, his regrets that he has not heard back from you in what feels like ages. 

He’s tried to speak to you a few times in the palace when you work. His eyes always trained on you with something you’re unable to describe when you clean nearby. 

You wish you could say it was perverse in manner, but it was nothing of the sort. 

Every once and awhile you would catch a lily pinned to his breast pocket. He would send you a secret smile whenever it caught your attention. As if it was a tale meant for only the two of you to know. As if he wanted to carry a portion of you with him.

You may be naive in saying so, nor do you have much experience in the matter, but these do not feel like the actions of a man who simply wishes to find home under your dress. These feel more personal. More extravagant than anything else. 

Nevertheless, you ignore every single advance. Annabell made you promise, and it was a promise you were intent on keeping until your dying breath. 

Put the letters away in a box, never to be responded to. Avoided looking at him whenever he was near. Rushed out of rooms when it appeared he was intent on  making his war for you.

Icing out the prince is what is best. Whatever lilies he will wilt and die and you will be able to continue on with your hatred of the Kim family as well as your blood pact with the throne. 

You only wish it was that easy.

“Y/n!! Miss Y/n!!” There is a scramble outside of the door, voices hailing for your presence. You don’t know why– you’re on wash duty. Anyone, unless they’re extraordinarily new, would know that. 

The voice grows more erratic, more panicked. As if their life depends on finding you in that very moment. The other maids in the quarters send their glaces to you, urging you to go yet not one opens their mouths. 

At least one bonus of endenturing your entire life to the palace is that you have grown in rank. More than 10 years has granted you a decent position. 

A hushed sigh slips past your lips and your hands find themselves forcing the pile of sheets into the washing tub. Your hands quickly wipe away at your apron, ridding them of any moisture before pushing open the door. 

Stepping into the hallway lined with stone you notice only a single girl. Her entire form shaking as she paces the hall– panicked. Blonde curls bouncing with every step, cheeks a fluster. 

A new recruit, indeed. Celley is the name she wears. 

She had just entered with the last batch of new maids, starting at the palace no more than 2 months ago. She was a recruit you were unsure of– not having a lick of grace or balance, nor any experience with serving. But you suppose there are many reasons maids are chosen. 

You do not like to think of them.

Her feet are suddenly clamouring over to you, noticing your presence for the first time since you’ve stepped in the hallway. Her small, shaking hands grip your shoulders, holding you with all the will she seems to possess. 

“Excuse me have you seen–” She stops herself, tiny pants pausing as her eyes go wide, “Oh my days! Miss Y/n! You must hurry!” She rushes, hand gripping your wrist as she tries to pull you away. 

Though your face twists in confusion, your feet remain firm. 

“What’s the matter?” You ask, both sympathy and concern entering your frame. You can admonish her later for her lack of manners, however now, the girl seems truly frightened. Her large steel eyes looking back at you, pleading. 

“The crown prince! He’s!” She’s out of breath once again, continuing to try and urge you on.

This time, the second the word prince is muttered, you begin to follow her pace, “He’s lost his mind! He’s going on a firing spree! Locking up anyone who tries to calm him!” 

“What? Why is that? Did something happen?” You ask hushed, urging the girl to keep her voice down. Though you both are similar in age, it is apparent who has experienced this type of thing before. 

“He got into some kind of spat with his father. His instructor was fired when he tried to continue on with their lesson.” It seems she understood your message, continuing to hurry you down the halls. 

“And what am I meant to do?” 

“I-I don’t know!” She lets out a quiet yelp, pulling you closer as you exit the maid hallways and enter the palace ones, “His personal maid is away visiting family. She said to leave everything to you if something were to happen! I-I didn’t know what else to do!” 

Damn Eleanor and everything she stands for. Why the hell did she have to bring your name into this?! Shouldn’t the head maid be called in times like this?! Not you, someone who wants nothing to do with any member of the royal family. Especially the crown prince himself. Sure, there must be rumours spreading around but you had managed nearly three weeks without speaking to him!

You let out a sigh, squaring your shoulders in an attempt to appear more confident, more put together. You will do this, and you will come out victorious. Every battle before has left you victor. What is one more?

“I understand. It will be dealt with.”

The least you can gain is the idyllic picture of the prince to be shattered forever. That would be the most ideal outcome, something to truly force him out of your heart for good. You will not fall prey to him and his earthly desires. He will not win your heart. 

At least that is what you hope. 

The throne room's doors stand before you, delicate lacings of gold worth more than your entire being etched into its surface. A glittering picture for what is sure to be a bloodbath behind its contents. 

A deep inhale of warm air fills your lungs, hand pressing against the door as you force it open. Face someone you have not wanted to see nor extinguish the flames of in nearly a month. 

He stands before you, 20 paces ahead. A broken bottle in his hand as he heaves, shoulders rising and falling with the passion of ten thousand suns. The look of murder in his eyes as he stares down at a maid, her form on the ground. Bowing with as much might as she can possess, looking for any exit possible. Few other maids stand around the room, keeping their heads low, avoiding any eye contact possible. 

Though he looks like a mad man– mayhaps a god of war himself, not a single hair is out of place on his head. He is still the picture of sovereignty. And though your breath spikes, you find that you are not afraid. 

What a strange feeling it is.

The creak of the door sends single to him, has him whipping his head to face you. Anger etched into his features, a new target befalling his sight.

You stand tall, moving towards him. You will rise to the position given to you, even if it shall mean your inevitable downfall. As long as the new staff are safe.

Only, when he looks to you, no wrath is found. No anger or deceit. The second his eyes meet your own, his expression drops along with the bottle in his hands. More glass littering the floor in its wake. 

His eyes soften, his lips turning from a sneer into a gentle frown. His shoulders automatically lower, and suddenly it appears that there is no one else in the room. His legs move automatically, carrying themselves to you with such a hurried pace you would have thought he had seen a long lost friend. 

Oddly, this scares you more than when he was angered. 

You start into a bow, “Prince Kim, I’ve come in place of–” 

His arms wrap themselves around you before you can speak another word. Pulling you in, wrapping you into his scent as you're pressed against his sturdy chest. Strong arms keep you in place as he tries to make his body become one with your own. 

His face buries itself into the crook of your neck, one hand raising to tie itself in your hair. It forces you to stay in place, stay attached to him just the way he wants you to be. Allows him to inhale, breathing in all of you. Finally delving into the scent that he has been craving.

Your eyes only widen, hands staying firm at your side in shock. Heart beginning to race, head becoming lost in the soaps that only a member of a family could possibly own. 

You’re not sure what to do. How to behave. As far as you are concerned or aware, this is something that no other has had happen before. At least not so openly. Not so brazenly in front of a myriad of other people. 

But, it seems to calm him. To placate him in a way you’re not sure anyone could explain. 

You try to make a small twisting motion with your hand, try to urge everyone else to leave while they have the chance. 

They seem to take it, exiting the room as fast as possible. 

You’re sure word of this will spread throughout the castle quickly. You hope the consequences will not be dire. 

“Prince Kim–” You begin to speak after everyone has cleared out, after he holds you for what feels like a lifetime. You can’t find it in you to want him to pull away, no matter how embarrassing this seems. 

“Shh,” He quickly silences you with a gentle press of his lips to your pulse, “Let me stay like this for a moment.” 

You are unable to move. Unable to breathe after he kisses you. War could begin in that very moment and you’re not sure you would have noticed in the slightest. You are stunned into obeying his whim as he simply inhales and exhales. 

The umber in his voice only comes after a millennia, after his shoulders have completely sagged. After all the tension is removed from his body. 

“You didn’t respond to my letters.” He still doesn’t pull away, his grip on your hair tightening a fraction. 

You pause.

“I…I didn’t know where to send them.” You lie and his hand loosens. The correct answer. 

“My study. Put them under the door to my study.” He instructs like a king would. 

You’re not sure why the tone of his voice sends shocks to your gut. Pooling into something you only find in your dreams.

“But if someone were to see them–” 

“Let them.” Mumbles in your ear to you and you alone, a growl practically spiking through his voice, “I want them to know.” 

Oh. This is new. This is definitely new. This is not the same way you felt with the stable boy years ago. This has become something entirely alienating. A completely different beast. You know that now as his baritone voice sends waves straight through your gut. 

You simply nod in reply, your mouth unwilling to say anything back. The arm around your lower back grows more firm.

“Tell me where you will put your replies.” He commands into your ear. 

“Under the door to your study.” Your reply is automatic, years of answering to the kingdom evident in your tone. 

He sighs, unfurling his fingers from your locks to gently pet the top of your head, “Good girl.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, soft as he touches you.

“Good lamb.”

You sigh, fingers deftly searching through your wardrobe for just a single pair of underwear. But once again, you turn up empty. It seems like every day that passes, another pair disappears without your knowledge. 

Perhaps one of the new girls is causing a fuss, messing up the laundry for everyone else. 

That is the only logical solution, at least. 

But logic doesn’t seem to make much sense at all anymore. You couldn’t hope to understand why few of your other belongings have come up indignant as well. 

Your favourite perfume, one of your stuffed animals, even your toothbrush! All have magically vanished from thin air over the course of the last week. 

It is too bad that you haven’t had the time to think about it, either. Preparations for the ball have been raging throughout the palace. Everyone has been on their toes, unwilling to face the wrath of the planners as they try to make everything perfect. 

You have had not one moment alone to think, either swept up in cleaning, decorating, or well… recently you and the prince have been going on walks through the garden at night. Though that doesn’t matter much. It doesn’t mean anything– just another thing he made you promise to. Claiming he wishes to spend as much time with you as he can. 

His recent fixation is trying to get you to call him by his true name. 

You would never dare, nothing is more inappropriate than such a title. It is something only his most beloved is meant to call him, and that person is certainly not you.

You try to force any thoughts of him out of your head, though it is clearly a fruitless endeavour. Especially with the dream you had the night prior. 

His hands finding themselves between your legs, touching you in a way no other has. 

You flush, quickly shaking all thoughts of the night away. 

The tea! Your tea, yes. A prescription from the doctor for this very thing.

More often than not, you wake to find a mess between your thighs. Sticky arousal between them in a perverse fashion. The region sensitive and overstimulated combined with a mess of dreams. More sexual in nature than ever before.

Embarrassed, you had turned to the only person you could trust. The palace staff’s doctor. 

She had told you it was normal– that you were simply having what she described as ‘wet-dreams’. The title alone made you feel embarrassed.

Nevertheless, she prescribed you a tea to help calm your nerves. It was meant to be passifying in nature, calming any lush desires you may have beginning to form. 

You were not sure how it functioned, however you trusted her. Found that it quelled whatever fire burned inside of your heart for the time being. 

Perhaps just a new oddity to add to your reality, you suppose. 

Finally, you find a proper set of undergarments to pull over your legs. Letting out a breath in relief now that you finally have them. 

Today is going to be busier than the last month combined– the ball is tonight. You know for a fact you will be rushed around the palace all day, fixing everything into an acute sense of perfection that only the Kim family is known for. 

You reach to spray your second favourite  perfume across your skin, only to find that the bottle has gone missing as well.

Your hairs stand on edge, a dark pit forming in your stomach.

It is all too strange for you to want to understand. 

Okay, now you’re sure Annabell must be wrong. She has to be, right? There is no other conclusion possible. 

The thoughts run through your head as you pace the small confines of your room. Thumb between your lips, biting the skin feverishly. Contemplating what it is exactly that you should do. A heavy box sitting on your bed, a letter laying next to it along with a single lily.

A month ago, you met Prince Kim in the gardens. A month ago you spoke to him all night long. A month ago he brought you flowers. He has been leaving you letters ever since. Three weeks ago he held you in his arms, made you promise to write him back. Made you promise to meet him in the gardens as many nights as you can. 

But this, you could not accept. You could not possibly think this is real. Why has he gifted you something like this?

A dress lays on your bed. The most gorgeous dress you have ever seen, in fact. Lined with crystals and gems, many layers of tulle poof from the underskirt. It must’ve cost a fortune, but it was not meant for you.  It is a dress meant for a princess, not a simple maid of the palace. Not… Not someone the prince simply wanted to bed. 

So why did it lie here, along with a lace mask and a pair of shoes. Why did it come with a note from the Prince, telling you to put it on for tonight's events? Is this why the head maid dismissed you so early?

No. You could not. You will not make a fool of yourself. You do not belong up there, dressed as a princess when you are far from the thing. That is your decision. It will be the one you stick to.

Even as hours tick past on the clock, even as you can hear the night in full swing, you stay locked in your room. Feeling the same as you did when you were a girl locked in the dungeon all those years ago. Helpless, indignant, stubborn. 

Lost in your thoughts as you try to piece together a puzzle that has several spaces missing. Feelings for the stable boy– life with him, it would have been easier than this. You’re sure of it. 

You allow yourself to imagine what life could have been like if he stayed. It would have been a cosy, peaceful. A straightforward one that didn’t leave so many questions in your head. Jungkook was always like that, spoke his mind without leaving anything to be guessed. You adored it, wished you could revel in it now. Wish you could kiss him under the cherry tree once more.

A pounding wakes you from the dream you were just beginning to weave. Loud, angry knuckles against the firm oak of your door startling you to your feet in an instant. Chills running down your spine as if your body already knew who was behind it. 

You wait too long to reply, another series of rapts following in quick succession. You’re in trouble. You’ve angered the prince in a way you’re not sure you’ll be able to find your way out of, but you have no choice. He knows your inside. You know you must face him. You must be brave.

Right before another series of knocks can echo against the walls, you finally pull the door open. 

There stands the man you knew would be there all along, sculpted like the lord had made him himself. You wish you could behold him properly, to stare at his beauty in the suit specially prepared for this night. One he asked your opinion of several times during its construction.

But you are unable to, not when his shoulders heave like a bull planning its charge. Not when his eyes are narrowed into a glare that enters your soul without consequence. Never before had you felt his anger directed at you. 

The future king would be a fearsome thing. 

“It appears you are not dead.” He states, cold and detached in a way you have never heard before. It makes you feel small, feel weak. Though by now, you know he wants an answer. He will not accept the lack of one from you anymore. 

You shift uncomfortably on your feet, “I suppose not…” 

“Then what do you suppose.” You flinch. You’re not sure.

“I– Prince Kim…” 

“Taehyung.” He interjects, though you ignore him. Only his future wife is meant to call him by that name.

“Prince Kim, I could not possibly accept this gift. You have to understand.” The way he looks at you makes you want to shrink. To appear as small as possible to placate the lion you’ve wondered into the den of. 

“I do not. You are to accept any gift I am to give you.” He is stern as if lecturing the ground beneath him. He looks massive in your tiny room, taking up much more space than you wish to grant him.

You begin to grow frustrated, annoyed. Does he have no sanity? Does he really think it is okay to play with the hearts of women so carelessly? It is disgusting. Repulsive even! You do not deserve anything like this. You begin to grow tense, grow firm like a wolf cornered. Ready to lash out with no remorse. 

That is what you are, anyway. A cornered animal with no hope to escape. 

“I won’t.” You raise your shoulders, stand taller and stare him straight in the eyes. If this will have you sent to the axe then so be it. 

He grows just as tense in reply, his lips forming a sneer as he takes a step closer towards you. 

Never before has Prince Kim been opposed like this before, you’re sure of it. The way his irises become darker is proof. 

“And why is that, lamb?” He mocks, and the fire inside of you only begins to glow brighter Of course, you’re just the lamb that's wandered into the lion's den. The lamb being prepared for meal. 

Steam clouds around your head, jaw becoming tense as you try to hold back your rage. Rage for your mother, rage for the life she was taunted into the same way the prince is trying to do to you now.

“I will not become another woman you bed and then lay waste to!” You practically shout, unable to hold back your emotions anymore. 

His nostrils flare, “Excuse me?” 

“You heard my words.” You state back, indignant, “I will not be an idiot. I will not become another woman who you use for your own pleasures!”

You hear him scoff, head turning away from you for the first time as he looks around your room. 

“You think that little of me?” His eyes make their way back to you, his face having the expression of somewhat… hurt? 

Suddenly, you’re unsure. You feel stupid all over again though you’re not entirely conscious as to why. You hurt him? How could you possibly hurt the most powerful person in the country? 

You falter in your stance, and it is obvious that he takes notice. Uses it to his advantage as he takes another step closer, makes his hand find your own. His thumb brushing soothingly over the knuckle. His hands are always so soft. 

“What else am I meant to think? I’ve heard the stories, Prince Kim.” Where once was fire lays blistering coals. Hot to the touch yet unyielding in their passion. The air in the room has changed in much the same way.

“Tell me of them.” He asks you, his voice now gentle, soft. 

It is strange, the complete change he’s had since first entering your room. Has your brain going a little haywire. Especially with the way he stares at your hands. Like they could be locked forever. 

“I…” You feel flush, embarrassed to mutter the words in front of the prince, “I’ve heard you seduce women… princesses, noblemen’s daughters, maids… the lot. Then you abandon them the next morning with your seed in their core and a knife in their heart.” 

You keep your eyes to your feet, face feeling hot by repeating the words of your friend. You refuse to look at him, you cannot take the embarrassment. 

A light chuckle leaves his lips, a hand coming up to attempt to muffle them, “Sorry, sorry.” He shakes his head, a playful glint in his eyes. You’re baring your soul to him! How dare he laugh! 

He coughs to muffle the rest of the sound, returning to the moment, “I apologise. I just had the realisation. You’re jealous of them, aren’t you lamb?” 

A mess of flutters takes up your stomach, your shoulders raising in alarm. Your lips open to try and form words, to try and deny the allegations made your way, yet you are entirely unable. 

Especially with the way he moves closer, crowds your space with such ease. Leads close to you, whispers words in your ear, voice lower than before. 

“You wish it to just be you I lay with, is that so?” You can practically hear the smile in his voice as another, more erotic chill finds its way down your spine. 

“Th-That isn’t–” You try to speak, but your voice sounds as light as air. He moves closer, arm carrying itself around your back, pulling you flush against him as he speaks sinful words. Words only for you. 

“Ah…” He sighs in relief, lips practically touching your ear once you’re finally connected to him, “You don’t like it when I go fuck your friends then come to spend my nights talking to you… writing to you… touching myself to the thought of you.” 

You cannot take it. You cannot take this, take him. Your head is spinning, clouding with the drug known as Prince Kim. Your knees feel weak, your limbs feel all too heavy. How can someone so pretty say such sinful words without a second thought. It’s too much. Far more than your poor little heart can take.

Your arms come up, press as firm as they can against his chest despite how weak they feel.

“Mmm…?” He asks in response, pulling back to look down on your face. Mock confusion spread across his features. He takes a step back, pretending to look you up and down. Like he is just playing a game of poker while all of your tells are as clear as day. 

“Or is that not what you wish?” He asks, head tilted to the side like a confused puppy, “You would like things to remain the same?” He smiles, drawing conclusions all on his own. 

He pauses, waits for you to say something, anything before continuing. But you do not, so he will keep playing this game by himself. 

“Then I shall go find someone to keep me company for the night. Mmm..” He taps his chin in contemplation, turning on his heels, meanwhile panic and dread fills every facet of your being, “What were those ones you’re friends with again? Celley? That pretty blonde? Oh, or maybe Annabell. I’m sure she would be prepared to go for a second round.” 

What? What? No, No! What is he talking about? Why is he starting to walk away?! Wait, Annabell, second time?! She has before?! 

Oh heavens, oh gods. 

“Anyway, I'll be sure to write to you after. Have a good night, dream of me.” You begin to hyperventilate as he takes one step out the door. No, he can’t leave. You don’t want him to. You don’t want him to be with anybody else. You can’t let it happen. You can’t afford such a thing! Ever! That is not where he is meant to be! 

Your body carries you before your mind does. Hand slipping out, gripping onto the back of his coat with all of the strength you can muster. Feet planted firm in your room, doing everything in your power to not let him leave.  

It is really too bad you do not see the sick smile that forms on his lips. Maybe then the pieces of the puzzle would have finally clicked in place. 

Instead he only tilts his head backwards, painting a complexion of boredom.

“N-No! I don’t want that!” You finally manage to stutter out, knuckles turning white with the strength you hold onto him. Afraid if you let go in the slightest he will pull away and disappear forever. “I don’t want you to be with other women!”

The silence that follows your confession feels a mile long. 

“Then go put on the dress.” Out of any response there could be, that certainly was not the one you were anticipating. 

“What…?” 

His chin tilts in the direction of it, urging you on, “If that is the truth, then go put on the dress.” 

“I…” You hesitate for only a moment, but scramble to motion once the prince turns to leave once again. 

You make quick paces to your bed, keeping your back to him. You feel his eyes on your back, intent on giving you no privacy to ensure you follow through on his order. 

In fact, all he does is close the door behind you. Making sure no one will be able to see in. No one will be able to watch you save for him. 

You slowly peel off the cotton of your nightgown, trying to appear brave even though his eyes are trained on your form. Even if your slip still remains on, you have never been this uncovered in front of a man before. You feel entirely bare. 

You do not look at him as you finally find your way through the tool, slipping the garment over your head with struggle, yet his face is practically predatory. 

You don’t know his plans, or what he wishes to gain. You never do. 

As the fabric settles over your hips, half of you wants to question how the size is perfect, but you refrain. Too embarrassed by everything else to even consider it an option. Your hands reach behind you to attempt to lace up the back on your own, yet another pair are already present in their place.

When did he get so close? How did he get so close without you hearing a thing? Your heartbeat must be the only sound in your ears, that must be it. 

His fingers work down your spine, tightening the dress so it fits you perfectly. Tying it off with skill you did not know he had. You feel his breath on the back of your neck. A fire begins to grow in your core. 

“I was going to present you to my father tonight.” He admits, placing a gentle kiss to the base of your neck, “The ball was meant to find my bride.” 

“Oh.” Those are the only words you can say when he is so close, arms enclosing around your waist. Pulling your back flush with his chest. 

Only words you can manage at the revelation.

“Imagine his disappointment, more so my own when the girl I had been speaking to him about did not show.” He grunts, almost as if it hurt him. Guiding your body to stand in front of the full mirror in your room. Asking– telling you to look at yourself. 

The sight is strange, yet incredible. The crown prince of the entire nation standing in your bedroom, in the maids quarters. Surrounded by squalor and chaos. Arms wrapped around a maid dressed as if she could be a queen. 

You look up at him to the best of your ability, regret plastered across your features, “Prince Kim–” 

“Taehyung.” 

“--I’m so sorry.” He does not look you in the eyes. They stay trained ahead, not straying once from the mirror. One hand rubbing small circles into the fabric covering your stomach, the other sliding to your waist.

He touches you without care, without reason. Feeling you against him for all that it is worth. 

“Actions have consequences, that is all. They can come later.” He states plainly, “For now I just wish to indulge in you.��

He brings his face down, placing it right next to yours. His hand rises, making your chin face the mirror as well. 

He forces you to make eye contact with him through it, forces you to understand each of his words clearly. 

“You’ll let me do that, won’t you?” 

You take a deep breath, gulping down all the air you can manage. You don’t think you’ve wanted anything more. 

With no more than a nod, his lips are on yours. 

Spinning you around, pressing your back against the mirror. His hands cupping your cheeks with such intensity you fear they may become etched into your skin forever. Keeping your lips closed against his own. 

His body cages you in, pressing entirely against you. Forming against you in perfect harmony, feeling two souls become one. Feeling each other fully for the first time– no pretence or public eye in the way to stop it. 

His teeth nip at your lower lip, biting in a way that has you opening them in pain. He takes the opportunity to lick his way inside, somehow pushing even closer to your body. 

Something hard presses against you and the discovery has your knees wishing to collapse. 

The prince can’t possibly be this big. He simply can’t.

The kiss has you reeling, unsure of anything. Unsure of what to do at all. It is nothing like your first kiss under the cherry tree with Jungkook. That was soft and sweet, docile as two people discover something new.

This, this is nothing of the sort. It is hungry. It is a beast that has been starved, finally getting its first meal. It is intoxicating. It is needy and desperate in a way that has your fingers trying to press themselves even deeper into the glass. It has your breath being robbed. Your lifeforce wilts away to satisfy only the prince. 

The groan he lets out as you finally give into him, finally allow him to take control of the kiss as arousal pools in your gut. It is one of the most deadly siren’s calls you think you’ve ever heard. One that would have any woman throwing themselves overboard for just a taste. 

“Finally,” He grunts, pulling no more than a millilitre away from your lips, wetness still connecting them, “My whole life I’ve been waiting for you.” He mumbles, hungrily connecting his mouth back to your own. 

Before you know it, you’re lost in the man once again. Allowing him to move you, to guide you to your bed without withdrawing from you once. Tangling your fingers into his hair, trying to make sure he doesn’t pull away. Making you drunk off of his taste, off of him. 

When he kisses you like this, you’re not sure you’ll ever be able to live without him. 

Your knees hit the frame of your bed and all of a sudden you're falling backwards onto its plush lining. Panting, trying to regain some of the air he stole from you.

For the first time you’re able to look up at him, to discover the mess that he has become. Cheeks red, lips swollen. Eyes dark and twisted with lust. Hair ruffled messily from where your fingers laid. Shoulders rising and falling with effort as he catches his breath as well. 

He looks gorgeous and you can’t help yourself hoping this will be only a sight for you forever. 

He leans down, pecking your lips once more, “I couldn’t stop myself from imagining this. Since the moment I placed an order for your dress.” 

He huffs, dropping to his knees in front of you. You sit up on your elbows, face twisted into confusion as you look down at him. 

God. It is too dangerous to look at him right now. You know that as another wave of heat runs straight to your core.

“Pushing up the future queen's skirt.” He groans, hands gaining purchase on your hips, pulling you down so your waist sits at the edge of the bed, “Letting myself have a taste of her while everyone else at the party danced.” 

O-Oh. Oh. He sees you as, oh god. 

His fingers bunch in the material of your skirt, drawing in a shaky inhale as he holds onto any drop of sanity left. 

When he sees no hesitation from you, he slowly begins to push the material up your legs. Eyes trained on your own, looking to you for any sign of discomfort. 

“Have her come undone on my tongue while no else was the wiser.” He groans as he finally comes face to face with your panty covered core. 

Your brain moves at a snail's pace, trying to keep up with every tiny movement the prince makes. Trying to process his words while your head becomes fuzzy with your own arousal. 

You feel like mush, so pliable in his grip.

His large hands slowly begin to part your thighs, to look at what he has been craving for so long when your brain catches up with you, embarrassment overcoming your being. 

“Y-You can’t! I-it is dirty to do such a thing.” At least, that is what you had been taught. Though, the look in his eyes and the growl from his throat tells you the opposite.

“You could never be dirty. No part of you could ever be.” The sound he lets out is more akin to an animal than anything else, and suddenly you feel like a schoolgirl. Flustered and embarrassed beyond anything else. 

The muscles of your thighs untense, the look on your face blushed and biting. 

“You will let me?” He asks again, and despite your embarrassment, you nod. He is going to be king… his word is rule afterall. He wishes it, so it will happen. You could not be more pleased to oblige. 

His grip on your thighs is more firm than before, blunt nails digging into soft flesh as he pries your legs apart. He lets a groan resonate from the back of his throat at the sight. Panties sticking to your center, wetness pooling just behind causing the material to almost become transparent before him. 

You did not know it was possible for a man to have such an effect on you. 

Without a second thought, he pushes the material down your thighs. His tongue licking a long stripe up your cunt, savouring the flavour for every cent it is worth. 

He moans at the taste, not wasting a second before he dives back in. Lapping against you like it is his last meal. 

A mewl leaves your lips, too many feelings crossing you at once for any of them to be worth anything. 

Embarrassment, shame, fear all vanish the moment his lips wrap around your clit, sucking against the small bundle of nerves in a manner that has your back arching against the bed. Fingertips digging into the sheets to find a second lease on life. 

You try to look down at him, to find him between all of your small pants of pleasure, however he is gone. Disappearing until the layers of fabric while he brings you sensations you never thought were possible. 

His tongue moves like it is made to pleasure only you. Taking turns flicking your clit to lowering into your center. Licking up any bit of arousal he can make out. Trailing up once again to press flat against the bundle of nerves.

All of it has your legs kicking, your breath melting. 

He is not quiet either, letting you know exactly how much he adores this. Adores the feeling of your thighs wrapped tight around his head. Adores every little sound and reaction you have to give him. Adores the taste of you on his tongue. It was only meant for him.

It feels like he has been wishing to do this far longer than you would ever know. Consuming you whole from the inside out. Causing you to become addicted, to desire him just as much as he carnally craves you.

His nails dig into the flesh of your thighs as your hips begin to rock against his face, seeking out every ounce of pleasure that he is willing to give you. Your adorable mewls and whines grow louder, peaking every time he sucks on your clit. 

A coil has begun to form in your gut, feeling as though it could snap at any second. You wish you could see him, to look at his face and see the crazed gleam in his eyes. Observe the exact look on his face as he licks your cunt. 

You try to picture it. Try to imagine the way he would look up at you from between your legs. The dark umber his eyes would become, the gentle circles he would rub into your thigh as you finally make eye contact. 

Your walls clench around his tongue, sending a new waves of whines out of your mouth. He somehow moves faster, more precisely with every movement. Like he is able to hone in on the exact things that have your thighs quivering. 

His tongue moves up, takes your small, worn clit into his mouth. Alternating between sucking against it, flicking at it, and pressing against it firm with the flat of his tongue. 

Without warning, nor any reprise, one of his thick fingers is thrust into your wet heat. Filling you in a way you have never been able to do to yourself. Stretching you. And all of a sudden, you’re flying off the edge of a precipice.

“Prince Kim!” Your back arches off of the bed, head thrown back against the mattress as you let out a moan. Your hips jolt, cunt squeezing around his fingers, heels digging into the floor as you come undone before him. 

He works you through it with ease and grace, finger slowly thrusting in and out. Tongue firmly planted against your clit to ride you through your high. 

It would not be your last of the night. He must be gentle. 

Slowly, you relax against the bed, chest heaving from exertion. He pulls away from you, standing to full height before leaning over your shaking form. 

Your arousal coats his face, a sheen from his lips and chin evident against the soft yellow glow of the room. He looks down at you, concern and adoration written across his features. Though in his eyes, it appears that the beast has yet to be quelled. 

He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. You taste yourself against them. 

“You are delicious. I wish to eat you every night until I die.” He mumbles against your lips, his knee sliding between your legs. Muscle pressing against your swollen cunt. 

You try to flinch away, yet the hand on your hip keeps you in place. 

He will not have you running away. 

Not now. 

Your cheeks flush at his words, wide eyes looking up at him like he is all that matters. 

He is. 

He presses his knee further against your pussy while his lips trail down the column of your neck. Urging you towards the headboard with no words spoken until your head is against the pillows. 

Your arms wind their way around his neck, keeping him in place, “I-if we were married, I would let you.” You manage to speak, your voice shaky.

He only smiles in reply. Fingers digging deeper into your waist as if he is holding himself back.

“Then we shall call this practice for our wedding night.” He smiles, sitting back on his heels. 

Marriage, wedding night. You allow the thought to ghost through your mind, willing it to be reality. 

He smiles down at you, taking note in the way you seem to gleam at the idea. A small chuckle leaves his lips, you really are too cute for your own good. 

His voice is no more than a whisper, forcing you to stay enrapt, “You will let me, right?” He asks, eyes glancing down to where his pants strain against his hips, “I wish to make love to my future wife.”

Your mouth practically waters at the sight, his hard cock pressed taught against the expensive material. You swear there may even be a wet spot where his cum has leaked through. 

Your pussy clenches, wanting nothing more for him to find his way inside. For him to claim you for himself. Destroy you so no other man can have you in the same way.

You struggle against yourself for no more than a moment, but the way his hand reaches down, grips at his cock. Brushes his thumb over the surface has you moaning in want. 

“Please.” 

He smiles, the motion following swift. All at once his hands unbutton his pants, pushing the material down his thighs just enough for his cock to spring free. He groans at the feeling, thick length hitting his stomach. Pretty pre-cum dripping down the side.

Your eyes go wide. If you imagined him to be large before, seeing it now looked impossible. He is thick, long. Far too big to ever hope to fit inside of you. 

But the desperate groan in his voice, the hungry look in his eyes only has you spreading your legs. Wishing nothing more than for him to destroy you.

One hand wraps around the base as he moves closer, the other forcing the skirt of your dress as high as it will allow. He makes space for himself in between your thighs, slotting himself in. Ready to do what he has been waiting years for. 

Not yet.

He sees the hesitation in your eyes, the worry. So he leans down, planting a gentle, soothing kiss to your lips. One filled with years of time behind it. 

He knows he must be careful with you. Knows all of his patience will have been worth it when he is finally able to take your virginity. 

“Will it hurt?” You as quietly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close. You find comfort in him. Find a sense of safety within his eyes. 

He nods in response, “Only for a little while, I promise.” He mumbles against your lips, placing a soft kiss against them once more. 

He slowly rubs the fat head between your folds, coating himself in your arousal. Your hips buck slightly in response, and he can’t help but smirk. 

So sensitive. So ready for him. 

As much as he wants to be rough, he can’t. He can’t scare you away just yet. 

He looks into your eyes once more, “Ready?” He asks, giving you one final chance to back out. You only nod your head, pulling him close, hiding your face in his neck. 

His head catches on your opening with the final drag of his length through your lips. His hands practically shake in excitement, as he guides himself inside. Letting go only once the tip is buried within your walls. 

He feels your teeth sink into his coat, your body burning with the stretch of him. He only has the first inch inside, yet you think it is more than you could possibly take. 

A choked cry leaves your lips as he continues to slowly thrust inside. Your arms cling to him as tight as possible. Tears prick in the corner of your eyes as he fills you, forming your entire body just around him. Just around his cock. 

He pauses only once half of his cock is buried in your needy cunt. You feel his hand come up to caress your cheek, to bring you back down to reality from the pain you feel digging at your core. Trying to bring you some sense of comfort. 

You pull back from his shoulder to look him in the eyes, expecting to see them soft. Filled with concern. Though there is nothing of the sort there. 

Behind his bangs is only the look of pure insanity. 

Though he tries to be compassionate, he really does.

“Are you doing okay?” His voice is strangled, coming out in only desperate cracks. He shakes, wanting nothing more than to fuck himself inside. Fuck himself deeper and deeper, until your cunt is shaped for his cock alone.

But he holds restraint. Just enough.

The way he looks at you, the way he speaks has a wave of pleasure rushing through your  skin. Your walls clamp around him, tightening even more. 

He is falling apart before you, because of you. 

He has gone mad because of you.

The feeling only makes you want to urge him on. See just how far the prince can fall.

You nod your head, looking at him with all the affections in the world, “Don’t stop.” 

He groans at your words, mind losing itself as he snaps his hips forward, forcing his cock inside until his hips are firm against your own. Teeth digging into the fragile skin of your neck.

You cry out in pain, your walls squeezing around him in shock. Pain coursing through your entire system as you are filled to the brim. Walls stretched as wide as humanly possible. The head of cock so deep inside you swear you can feel it in your lungs. 

“Shit.” He groans, mouth falling open, “This pretty thing is wrapped around me so tight, lamb. So fucking tight I can’t think.” 

He slowly tries to move his hips, though you only shout in response. Your legs wrap around his back, doing their utmost to keep him in place.

“Hurts!” You whine, shaking your head quickly. 

Fucking hell. What is the point of a pussy as sweet as your own if he can’t use it properly?

His hand moves between your legs, growl of impatience slipping past his lips as his fingers find your clit. They work with urgency, with need. Rubbing tight circles into it, trying to get you to feel the same pleasure he does.

You whine, overstimulated. Shots fired in all directions leaving you messy and confused. 

With every circle, a mewl sounds from your throat. Slowly your legs behind him loosen, the pain from before mixing with pleasure to become something wonderful. Something that has you whimpering for him to not stop. 

“See?” He grunts, slowly slipping out of your heat until only the tip remains, “We were made for each other.” 

He forces his cock back inside, fucking you open just for him. Only ever for him. 

Your nails dig into his back, heels digging into the mattress as you moan for him. As your cunt becomes addicted to the feeling of him filling you so perfectly. Addicted to everything he has to offer.

He moves too fast, too hard for you to even hope to keep up with. Hips pistoning into you, forcing you to take everything he has to give and more. Forcing you to be the perfect little doll for him, give him all the pleasure he can want and more. White mixing with red around the base of his cock.

Your back arches off the mattress to try and get closer to him, to try and keep up with him in any hope of the sentiment. Hips trying their best to keep him as close and as deep as possible, knowing they crave one thing and one thing alone.

“Prince Kim!” You moan, yet he growls in response. A sharp slap to your thigh sounds throughout the room as his hips pause, fingers removing themselves from your clit. 

“That isn’t my name to you anymore.” His voice is low, menacing in your ear. One more poke of the bear and you will be punished. “Tae–Hyung.” 

He emphasises the words with a sharp thrust of his hips, one that brushes against the bundle inside of you. One that leaves you crying out for him. Clinging on to him. 

“Say it.” He grunts, animalistic and desperate. Yet you’re too lost in yourself to realise how debauched he’s become. Looking less and less like a man, more like a demon come to lay waste to your soul. 

That is close enough to the truth, anyway.

“Say it until it becomes the only word you know. Every question I ask, every time I fuck myself into this sweet little cunt. Your only reply should be my name.” He grabs your chin, forcing you to stare at him. 

Your fucked out little features as you bob your head in compliance.

“I-I” You swallow, trying to understand his words as he pounds away at your core, “I understand!” 

He smiles, almost proud of the work he has done today.

His hips only move impossibly faster, impossibly harder in a way that has that knot in your gut tightening once more. 

“We’ll start simple then. What is my name?” He asks, angling his hips to press against your sweet spot with ever slight movement. Breathe panting, his mind falling deeper and deeper into the thralls of your body. 

“P-Prin–” You stop yourself, a pinch coming down on your skin, “Taehyung!” 

He groans, almost coming undone as he hears your name fall from your  lips for the very first time. The pretty sound your voice makes with every letter. 

It could be the only thing he hears for the rest of his life.

“Who are you going to marry?” 

You whine, your head thrashing around slightly. He smiles. You must really enjoy the idea of that, huh?

“T-Taehyung!” You manage to stutter out again, feeling your release coming closer and closer as the seconds pass by. 

“Who is the man you have fallen for?” The answer to the question is easy, especially when he is fucking into you like you’re the only woman that matters. Nothing matters except for him. 

“Taehyung!” Your brain is too fuzzy to process anything else. Anything other than the way his cock fills you. Anything other than the one word he told you is your gospel. 

“Who is the boy that kissed you under the cherry tree?” You don’t even know anymore. 

Does any man exist beside Taehyung anyway? You doubt it.

“Taehyung!” He smiles into your neck. 

“Who was the boy that was going to have you killed? That saved your life?” His words don’t process through your ears, yet you know what you are meant to say anyway.

“Taehyung!” He groans, his hips stuttering, losing their pace ever so slightly. 

“Who do you belong to?” 

“Taehyung!” You whine, your thighs shaking. The coil so tight you think you may just die if it doesn’t come undone in this very moment. 

His breath is quiet, only a rough whisper in your ear, “Cum.” 

Just as your king commands, you fall apart around him. White dots in the corner of your eyes as you clamp down around him, your legs pulling him close. A cry of his name leaving your lungs as if it is the very air you breathe. 

You feel him paint the inside of your walls white, his hips stuttering– fucking himself as deep into you as he could possibly manage. If you had any sense left in your little head you would have told him to pull out, yet your brain is so high. Filled with pleasure that only Taehyung can provide. 

Waves of arousal crash around you as he slows his hips, ensuring that you ride out your orgasm to its fullest before pulling away. You wish he could stay buried inside of you, just like that. Yet you doubt that would be very wise. 

“Was that good for you, little lamb?” He asks, slowly helping you into a sit. You’re not sure how to properly answer– mouth feeling dry. Your head has not yet come crashing back down, though that is probably a good thing. 

Facing reality is too scary right now. Especially when Taehyung is so warm. So caring as he removes your dress. Slips your nightgown back over your soiled body. 

“Very…” You nod, unable to take your eyes off of him as he moves around the bed. Tucking himself back into his pants, removing his shirt and dress-coat. Placing them over the back of a chair. Neatly hanging the dress on a hook, taking care that it is not damaged in any way.

Your arms find themselves reaching out to him, trying to pull him closer to you. He smiles once he takes notice.

“Would you like me to stay the night?” It is clear he was already planning on it, but hearing the words make you smile oh-so bright. 

“Yes, please.” You nod quickly, eyes already feeling tired. You did not know how he had so much energy, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Right now he is meant to be in your bed, arms around you. In fact, you become annoyed that he isn’t already. 

“Alright.” He smiles, slipping next to your form. Wrapping his arms around you, pulling you as close as possible.

You feel so safe. So warm with him. So protected that you can’t stop yourself from falling asleep.

“Goodnight my lamb.”

The Kim Empire. 

His home, his family, his livelihood all wrapped up in those three little words.

Yet, the only thoughts that seem to brandish his mind since the young age of 15 are about you. 

When you first stumbled in front of him, carrying a tray of tea. Spilling it all over his shoes. That quick curse that left your lips before looking up at him. The wide, doelike vision you had once recognition had set in. One the realisation of error set into your bones.

He will never forget the way his heart began to race in that very moment. The way he felt a cloth of sickness overcome his whole body at the mere sight of you. Looking so serendipitous below him.

At first he thought it was hate, how silly he had been back then. Ah, the way he sent you to be killed was just funny to him now. He is grateful he talked to his mother before your execution date. Spilling his soul to her, detailing how he could not seem to remove you from his brain.

Ah, he was lucky he managed to get the letter to the executioner in time. What a pity that would be if he couldn’t. Then he wouldn’t have been able to lay next to you now. Wouldn’t be able to play with your hair, caress you like he pleases. 

It is truly too bad that was not his only trial on the road towards you. It was really a pity he had to send Jungkook away. Taehyung quite liked the kid. He was fun to play with and wouldn’t shy away from his games. 

But he just had to try and seduce you. Poor thing. You really were too innocent at the time. More than eager to kiss him for no reason. To give him even a peace of your heart that was meant for Taehyung alone.

He remembers as clear as day, the rage he felt as he watched your soft lips press against another mans. How terribly he wanted to go out and strike Jungkook with a sword. Of course he didn’t though, that would have scared you away. He would have hated that.

He thanks god every day he was really your first kiss, even if you didn’t know it. 

Patiences was the hardest battle of all, and he will admit, he has faltered a few times over the years. Kisses stolen while you sleep, a few of your belongings robbed to keep him satiated. Mayhaps a few trips to your room in the night. 

But who could blame him? He was a man in love. There was nothing that could stop him when he was so hungry for you. 

Ah, and then of course his father. He wanted to separate your love as well. A maid could never possibly be suited to be queen, blah blah. He doesn’t care. And at least that fight allowed him to hug you for the first time. 

God. You felt so perfect in his arms, then and now. You have always been meant for this. Meant for him.

If his father plans to keep standing in the way, he will simply have to remove him from the equation. His bonds to the man are as thick as water. He cares more for you than he possibly could anyone else.

You’ve belonged to him since you were born, anyway. If a maid becomes pregnant while working for the castle, her child becomes property of the state. Of the crown. Of him. 

It only makes sense that you are meant to be with him until death. It is the path lined for you. Your fate since birth. 

He knows it as his delicate fingers trace over the small patches of blood dirtying the sheets. Evidence of the hours before, of your virginity robbed. Of your promises to him.

You are bound to him by blood after all.

© all rights reserved to ctrlhope 2019-2024 ; do not copy, plagiarise, or translate.

[madamechrissy]

Silent Serenades

♔ An arranged Marriage with Duke Gojo ♔

♔ Pairings: Satoru Gojo x you, you x Nanami, Satoru Gojo x some hoes

♔ Warnings: Heavy, heavy fucking angst, jealousy, smacking, cunnilingus, fingering, loss of virginity, toxic attraction, Gojo is toxic, reader is toxic. OOC. SO MUCH TENSION. Say hello to Mr. Nanami again. Split POV. SLOW BURN remember that.

♔ 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, and now you're trapped in a loveless arranged marriage. Royal AU, dark bridgerton vibes, Cruel Gojo x reader. OOC Set in 1800s England. Slow burn, enemies to lovers. Gojo is awful at first, HEAVY angst Basically- Gojo is a royal dick and doesn't wanna marry you - Don't read this if you want a nice Gojo lol.

Comments/ reblogs always appreciated 🥰

Part Six- Masterlist - Playlist

Part Seven- Like a Black Hole

Satoru’s POV

That night

Satoru stomps away from your door, hating the sounds of your sobs, they break him so, tears annoyingly cloying to his own white lashes. He brushes them back as he furiously turns then, clinging to the banister, trying to catch a breath. He’d just had you in his arms, fuck! He just had your lips on his, he just watched your beautiful face as he made you cum, him, Satoru, not…

Not the other man in your heart.

Satoru thought for one moment he could have you, he could truly have you, fuck it’s so maddening, how much he wants you, how he still tastes that honeyed arousal all over his tongue, can still smell how sweet you are, can still feel that soft, silky skin on his fingers. You’ve sank into him, so much so it’s impossible to think of anything else but you.

He had only even invited them earlier in the morning because you’d hurt him so fucking much, looking at him with that cold, icy look. ‘You’ll never be any of my firsts.’ You’d said it so coldly, and you were right, he wasn’t any of them, not a single fucking one, aside from your horrible first kiss, a kiss he’d barely brushed those lips, avoiding pressing too much, because even then…

Even then he’d wanted you.

That first night, when he’d left you so hurt, so broken with his cruelty, and he’d seen you in that chemise, those stockings covering those perfect legs, your nipples pressed against that silk… even then he’d craved you. But he couldn’t fall for it, no he had to hurt you, had to make you hate him, and he wished he didn't succeed so damn well.

Satoru feels so stupid, so stupid, god he just wants to hold you!? Hold someone, and fuck if he hadn’t done that in so goddamn long, not since her, not since Adelia. The goddamn doppelganger of you, the woman who ruined him, she was the last to elicit such feelings, but the difference was…

He wants you more, fuck kissing you was better than anything he’d ever felt, and pleasing you had him so close he almost came right in that carriage just drinking up that wetness. When your eyes looked at him in those gardens earlier, when he started to see what your mother had done to you, what he had inadvertently made worse, the pain he’d wrought, it killed him.

Those eyes that glittered under that soft moonlight, that looked at him with such desire in that dark carriage, and fuck when he carried you in, it made him think, that wedding night, when he refused to. Fuck why couldn’t he carry you, why did he do this, make it to where he’s begging to taste his own wife, begging for anything from you, so pathetic, you make him desperate just existing.

Where he’d thought he could fuck women and forget you, even when they all pale in comparison, he can’t stomach it tonight. He knows you’ll run off to that man tomorrow, fuck you’ll probably lose your innocence to him, he would not care, he would not care if he had to be second, if he had to beg for just some of your affection. He would still do it, because nothing felt as good as you.

If he could have just stayed away.

How can he stay away from you though?

He had you, in his arms, hands on your backside as he pressed you against the wall, and fuck it took everything not to fuck you there, you were so close to just being his if even for tonight. Until his previous actions, filled with pettiness and hurt, came back to haunt him, and he worries now he can never fix this, fix this goddamn mess he caused himself.

How was Satoru to know he’d fucking fall for the woman he wanted to hate so bad? How would he know he cannot hate you, not one bit, because all you’ve done is stay strong and brilliant no matter the horrible shit he threw at you so fucking casually, how you got a mouth right back, how your back was so fucking straight as you threw your knives back at him.

How you so easily found someone clearly enamored, how could you not, just look at you, the most beautiful creature he’d seen, yet he’d told you that you were unattractive, passable, average. You’d take all those hits and it clearly broke you, though you didn’t show it, he could tell when your face fell, when he felt your shoulders shake with sobs.

He was horrible.

Was he any better than his piece of shit father? He certainly was not good enough for you, and if he had any care whatsoever for you, he would tell you to go be with that man, he’d leave you be. He’s allow you some happiness, but Satoru is selfish, fuck he’s selfish, to try to drag you into his black hole, to make you suffocate with his anger, with his words, with his falsehoods.

You deserved to be happy, you deserved to bake cookies and have some man fawn over you, fuck you deserved the world, and all he’s given you is suffering. For one moment he thought something could change, be repaired, when he’d held your hand under that tablecloth, when he’d finally done one decent thing for you, a pathetic, paltry thing.

It wasn’t enough, of course, but he thought briefly how beautiful it felt, to live in the lie of being in love with each other, to be together truly, not to live this… what was this exactly? What was it that Satoru Gojo, the Duke, had brought upon both of you? This sadness, this sorrow, this anger, it was all of his doing.

Even when you’d seen Satoru fingering that maid in those gardens on your damn wedding day, even when he ignored you during that ceremony, you genuinely tried to be with him at your wedding night. You’d brushed that hair until it was shimmering, you’d had color on your cheeks and lips, clearly done by your Nan. You’d worn the most beautiful, sexy little thing, and he’d told you lies boldly.

He’d heard your sobs when he left that night, he pictured you, so small and helpless, so devastated, and he’d thought ‘good’ because crisis averted, you hated him, and he’d never fall in love. But then he couldn’t stop craving you, the more you pushed him away, the more you ignored him, he couldn’t help but want your words, your touch, even if it was a smack in his face, a curse word.

You consumed him before, but it worsens with every interaction, especially when he could be so sweet with you, just for that beautiful moment, when he could tell you how pretty you are, truly. When he could drink in your beautiful soul, that is what sets you so apart from any woman he’d known, that kindness in your soul to a creature like him who could never deserve it.

You’d covered for him, you’d forgiven him for some of his actions, how could you forgive him, how could you? Don’t you realize he doesn’t deserve it, even if he craves it, even if he needs it, but you opened to him, he watched you open, even though he knows you’re so scared to, and you should be, because what does he do, but disappoint you, time and again.

He stomps down the stairs of his manor, feeling it so cold and empty before you got here, and now you bring so much to it, he even loves sitting with you at breakfast, he’d not tell you so. He’d like it even more if you ate, like he’d forced you to this morning, a paltry attempt at righting things, when he just causes more and more anguish, this time unwillingly.

Satoru hates himself.

“You!” Satoru first heads to the butler, who is serving these two women more of Satoru’s champagne. “That’s it, you can find employment elsewhere. Read the room, goddammit man.”

“Your grace!”

“No, stay the night, and I’ll have a stipend for you ready with recommendations, you’re lucky you’ll even get that. After this, I never want to see your face again.” The butler leaves quickly, Satoru wanted to be much more cruel, but he knew the man had family, so his stipend would be generous.

But fuck that insolent butler.

The girls look at Satoru, smiling curiously, infuriating him worse. You’re so much more beautiful, so much more class in you, even when you’re being a wanton little whore, you out class and out shine everyone. How could he even stomach another woman now that he’s felt you cumming, now that he’s drank you?

“And you two, leave.”

The girls stop giggling then, looking at each other, then at Satoru, curiously. “Whatever do you mean, Satoru? Clearly… she’s not even here! She ran away like a little-”

“Do not speak of her.” He says through gritted teeth, yanking their glasses of wine out of their hands. “You have no right to speak about a Duchess, not either of you, not one word.”

“She’s clearly upstairs now, why ruin the fun?” Lady Elaine says, and Satoru’s mistress scowls.

“Because he wants her, he speaks of her-”

“Yes I want her, why the fuck wouldn’t I!?” He says then, so tired of this annoying, insecure and cloying mistress. She starts to sniffle, tears down her face. “Jesus, I’ll make sure you’re taken care of nicely for the month, so you can find another man to do so. Bloody hell you’re annoying.”

“It’s not just that, Satoru-”

“Don’t call me by my first name.” He says then, through his teeth. “I’ll ready a carriage for both of you.”

“Duke Gojo…” Lady Elaine says softly, and he rolls his blue eyes, looking at her seriously. “You do know she was with a man that night?”

“Yes I damn well know, and I was fucking you.” His - former? - mistress pouts again, lip trembling, so goddamn annoying.

“Yes, but you’re a Duke, and a man. Surely-”

“You’re married, Lady Elaine. Want you husband to know I fucked you on your hands and knees last night, my seed spilt all over your backside?” Satoru asks then, with a white brow shot up, and she gasps, sputtering. “Didn’t think so. Do not speak ill of my wife.”

“Your wife!? You both don’t even-”

“Enough. Get your things.” Satoru stomps off, asking his attendant to ready a carriage to take these annoying women home, even though he knows it matters naught, that you’re already done with him right now. He still can’t touch them, can’t look upon them, can’t hear their words about you, wrought from jealousy.

But he’d said worse things.

How can he call you a whore when you do what he’s pushed you to, when if he’d just been the smallest bit kind, you’d have been under him instead? When you both clearly had the most intense connection he’d ever felt, when he lost himself in your pretty eyes, when he lost himself in your kisses.

So now, the Duke Gojo, lies in his cold, empty bed, staring up at the ceiling, painted with intricate angels that he studies, when the angel he wants to study cries in the room next to him. The candles on his nightstands cast flickering shadows across the room, and he feels his coldness, he shivers, aching for a body he’d never held.

Satoru wasn’t a man that cried, not after what she’d done to him, he’d made sure to stop any emotions from that point, to become a cold version of himself. Even his best friends, Shoko and Suguru, had not been as close to him, had noticed his change, long before you, they just did not realize the depth of his cruelty. You have been punished for just looking the way you do.

Prettier than any angel on his ceiling, which blur through his intense emotions, as his heart thuds in his chest, as it feels like someone is squeezing it like a vise. The tears stream down his cheeks, unnoticed by anyone but himself, as he thinks of your rejection, your pain, and the chasm he’s created between you two, the one he thought he could repair just by pleasing you.

He’s such a fucking fool, even then, you’d asked him to explain, you were going to give him a chance, but how could he express it, express his pain and inadvertently his stupidity. How could he ever hope to build something or repair something he himself destroyed before it ever started? Satoru has never felt so helpless, so lost, this wound of seeing you like this hurts more than her cheating on him.

So Satoru cries quietly, not wanting anyone to hear his weakness, his sorrow. It’s a stark contrast to the man he’s always portrayed to the world, to you, this cold, unfeeling man. No, for you he burns, fuck he yearns for you every moment he breathes, every second his heart beats, and now he feels you slip through the fingers you should have never been in.

You have cracked his mask somehow, you’ve seen who he truly is, even if for that one beautiful moment, or who he was before her. That terrifies him because now he knows he’s not immune to love, no matter how much he closed himself off, no matter how much he threw himself into pleasure, he’s not immune to the pain, and it’s a worse pain than he’s ever felt, the aching in his heart for you.

He thought he knew what love was with her, with Adelia. Fuck even her name makes him sick, even her teary eyes as he paid her an enormous amount to leave the country and never come back. As she’d pleaded her damn way, trying to convince him it was his father’s fault, and sure it was, but he’d walked right in on her, riding his damn father and moaning, laughing about Satoru.

His dad had brushed it off with a cruel laugh, he’d always made sure to have several mistresses around, and Satoru watched his mother endure, watching the pain in her eyes, as he knew his mother fell in love with his dad. And he always wondered how she had, but now he saw it, now he knew.

Satoru had become like the person he hates the most in this world, he parades mistresses right in front of you, fuck even his father had kept his actions to the bed chamber, not right in the open. Satoru left that door open for you to see, for it to hurt you, so you’d never try to know him, so that you’d hate him, even his piece of shit father had more class.

How did you kiss him, after he did this to you? How could you even look at Satoru Gojo, were you that much of an angel? Were you that kind hearted, to the point of being foolish… you are foolish to have kissed him back, to have let him touch you, to have cried out his name.

‘Satoru, Satoru!’

Fuck.

He slams a hand over his face, feeling the cold air blow through the windows, he should shut it but he just cannot, he cannot move, he’d like to freeze to death, he’d like to let you be free of him. Maybe he should actually give you that annulment now, let you live your happy life, it’s what you deserve, you don’t deserve him, his cruelty, his confusion.

But he’s too selfish.

He’s always been good at pushing people away, but you’ve stuck now, like a thorn in his side that’s burrowed deep into his heart, despite his best efforts of keeping you so far. Just one look from your eyes, just one brush of his big hand on your waist, over those corsets you wear so tight, fuck he wants to rip them off you, see you fully, completely, not in bits and pieces, the full picture of you.

Has that man seen you fully?

Satoru is sure he had, fuck he saw your breasts first, as you had so blatantly said, coming home with marks and smirking at him, Satoru had made even you act cruel, and he did deserve your cruelty. He did not deserve the slightest kindness, and even now he will not even open up, because he doesn’t know where to start, it’s no excuse for his treatment of you, an innocent young lady with a heart too kind.

The bed feels like a prison, the silk sheets a mockery of the warmth and comfort he craves, the warmth of your delicate body, one that drives him to insanity. He’s been so lost in his own despair for so long, now he feels so much regret for hurting the one person he’s grown to need so desperately.

Duke Gojo is a mess for you, for a woman he does not deserve, and likely ruined any chance of ever having. 

You’ve tried to ignore him, to push him away, but he can’t bear it, he would never let you, even though he should, not when he constantly needs to feel your skin, taste your tears as he kisses you, tears he brings. He was truly cruel, more cruel than anyone he can fathom, not allowing you to breathe without him invading your space.

It takes everything not to keep begging to come into your room, to not just unlock that goddamn door, he has the keys, and kiss his apologies all over your body. To make you feel so good maybe you could forget, for just a moment, the endless anguish he has brought on you. But he knows it’s wrong, he knows all of this is wrong, he knows it’s likely too late for stupid, pathetic apologies.

He knows you’re in your room, just as he’s in his, both of you suffering in your own silent hell, one of his making. Misery, for what, when he could have had happiness, happiness with you, but because you looked like Adelia he treated you like he would her, no worse than he had her. And what had you done, but be a bright and hopeful bride?

He remembers hating you as you both courted, but he held it in check, thinking surely he had time to marry anyone, but the family bonds pushed and pushed you. God forbid a woman becomes of age and a parent doesn’t throw them to the wolves, and thrown to this wolf you have been, not even knowing what sex was, not even knowing your body’s reactions.

But fuck if Satoru did not want to know every inch of your body, fuck if he wouldn’t just lick you every day and nothing in return, if only you would stay in his arms. And this is what he feared, to be so desperate, to be so pathetic, but pushing you away had not prevented it, not one bit, not when you were designed so perfectly, not when your beauty made his heart falter.

Not when he wanted to know you, truly know you, what made you tick, what made you laugh, what made you cry. Aside from him. He laughs bitterly, turning to his side and hugging the pillow tightly, resting his face on it, imagining himself holding you instead. What would it be like to have you in his arms, not writhing and trying to fight him, but to…

To sleep next to you.

Eventually, the tears slow to a stop, and his eyelids grow heavy. He’s exhausted from the emotional turmoil, the fight with his own desires and the pain of his reality. As he drifts towards unconsciousness, he’s vaguely aware of light footsteps outside his door, so he shuts his eyes, white lashes fluttering, his lips parted as he exhales, feeling your presence.

He keeps his breathing even, pretending to sleep, not wanting to face you, not like this, he hopes you cannot tell he’s cried. When you enter the room, he can smell your sweet scent, like cherries in the sunlight, it’s unreal how sweet you always smell, he could find you anywhere.

He imagines how the candlelight must be illuminating your features just so, imagines if your own eyes are red and puffy from your own tears. You’ve come to check on him, and he can feel the compassion radiating from you, despite everything, despite the fact you should feel nothing.

Your kindness as you close the window, clearly sensing it’s a chilled night, it’s something he does not deserve. And when you exhale, bending low, he feels the softness of your strands of hair against his bare skin. God, he wants to pull you down for a kiss, to capture those full, pretty lips on his own. God even your hair smells so good, as you blow out his candle, engulfing you both in darkness.

When you pull that blanket over him, so caringly, it’s like a knife twisting in his gut, the guilt of what he’s done not just to such a sweet human being, but to a woman he’s feeling things for. Conflicting, intense, terrifying things, and now he knows that all the pushing away just caused you both pain, yet here you are.

Why do you care?

All Satoru is, is this monster, a despicable monster in the dark that’s ruined everything, ruined you fucking life, as you tuck him in, as you tentatively brush his snowy white hair back with careful fingers. For a moment, he considers reaching out to you, pulling you into his arms, but he stops himself.

He doesn’t deserve your comfort, not after what he’s done, he deserves nothing but suffering, not your caresses, not your kisses, and maybe you would fall for him if he did pull you close, maybe you’d melt like you do. Against your will, just as his feelings are for you, as both of you fight the one thing that feels so natural, like breathing, yet breathing is so difficult without you.

Without you near Satoru feels empty, but how can he expect you to fill a void you have no clue of? How can he even expect you now, as he lies there, feigning sleep, and you’re brushing your sweet fingers down one of his high cheekbones. He feels your touch, your gaze on him, the warmth of your presence in his chilly room, in his freezing cold heart.

This is more than he deserves, getting to drink you in, after he’d heard you sob in that room, after he watched the crestfallen look on your face, and all he could do was beg for you, be pathetic. As his dad told him so often when he was younger, ‘Satoru, you’re just pathetic, look at you’ and then he’d made that so true.

But you deserve better than Satoru Gojo’s long standing issues, his anger that was directed at you.

Why are you here!?

With a sigh, you quietly leave the room now, the door clicking shut behind you. Satoru’s eyes remain closed, his heart feeling like it’s been shattered into a million pieces, the emotion stuck in his throat as he clings to that pillow, snug and warm under the blanket you’d draped over him, picturing your beautiful face.

He needed to fucking make this right, you don’t deserve this, even if you chose another man. Satoru can’t change the past, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try to make up for it, to see if he could make you happy, to see if he could stop fucking everything up so royally.

But for now, he’s just a man in his bed, a man who’s lost the one thing he never knew he wanted, the one thing he never knew could make him feel so alive and so destroyed all at once.

You.

And so, he lies there, his thoughts racing, until finally, sleep claims him, the first real rest he’s had in what feels like an eternity, brought on by your sweet caresses. But, even in his dreams, you’re there, your sad eyes looking at him with a mix of anger and disappointment. He wishes he could apologize, could explain, could do anything to take it all back.

Where would Satoru Gojo begin?

But all he can do is sleep for now, and those dreams of kissing you, begging for you, as you run off with another man, with that blond man with rough hands, and he’s just sobbing, on his knees. You look at him kindly, and tell him you have no hatred for him, just merely no love, before you dance away, flitting like a pretty little butterfly, as he reaches out, grasping air.

Would this be his fate, constantly wishing that he’d not ruined something, ran it into the fucking ground before he began, only to watch you happy, finally, so far away from him? It would leave him alone, with these endless women, drowning in their moans and alcohol, struggling to forget you, something he chose, Satoru chose all of this.

How could Satoru even breathe if you’re not here?

Your POV

“Where are you going?” Satoru asks the next morning, your neck is sore from tossing and turning, you’re exhausted from the lack of sleep, as you stand in your light blue day dress and bonnet. Satoru is sitting at the white grand piano in the drawing room, pecking keys with his long fingers, in a melancholy tune.

You have to admit it’s quite beautiful however, as he peers up at you, and hits those keys harder and harder, in a crescendo as he towers those notes down, lower and lower. His hands cross each other as he peers right at you, with those stormy blue eyes, and you feel yourself tense as you remember last night, when you’d been in his arms, against the wall.

Fuck he’d made you feel so insane, like an all consuming madness, and then you realized it before it was too late, that you were a fool. You’d been willing to give this man everything and all he’d given you was some pleasure, some attention, were you truly so pathetic that it only took that? Were you so keen to excuse the endless insults, the endless parade of women?

The endless torture this beautiful man who plays the piano so expertly, as he’d played you, it’s as if you’re fading off listening to it.

“I’m off to take a walk to town, it’s been so long. Hello, Satoru.” You coo at your puppy, who is running in circles around your feet, and you’re giggling at his cute expressions as he plays. Duke Gojo is staring seriously at you, his jaw clenched, his lips together tightly, studying you so carefully. “What are your plans, Duke?”

“My plans?” He laughs hoarsely, coming up then, the note ending in a high pitched screech as he walks toward you, drinking you in with that azure gaze, as if he remembered everywhere he kissed.

You are a horrible person.

You are such a fucking fool.

If Satoru Gojo just touches you a certain way, you melt in his arms, you are just like putty, ready to be molded for one of his whims. And how can you be so apt to do so!? How do you have no self control with this man, you, who has had so much control her entire life, you, who has always been the picture perfect lady, but now you do not know yourself.

“My plans are worrying where you’ll be.” His husky voice breaks you out of your reverie, as he tilts your chin up with two fingers, as his vulnerable words and looks threaten to ruin you.

“Why worry about me?” You whisper back, and he sighs, leaning down, forcing you to step back, making him glare.

“Why worry? Did last night mean nothing to you!?” You laugh then, harshly and without humor.

“Of course I thought it meant something, but it did not to you!”

“Yes it did! You have no idea-”

“Duke Gojo, stop this, just stop this game. You’ve gotten my hatred, you said you never wanted to lay with me, you get that as well. You get everything you initially asked for, why can’t you leave me alone?” You demand then, tears threatening, your chest heaving with shallow breaths, throat so tight.

He grabs your shoulders with his huge, warm hands, as you shiver from the coldness of your soul. “Because it’s not true, it’s not true at all. How could I not want you!?”

“You can’t just say that. And it matters naught, so what if you want my body finally, you do not even know me.” He blinks then, brows drawing together, his snowy long lashes low over his eyes.

“I know you very well. Did you forget?” He’s caressing up the sides of your breasts now, and you tremble, shaking your head.

“Not my body, me. Do you know a single thing, do you care to? Just because you… find my body attractive, at least I’m assuming…”

“Your body is fucking gorgeous. I want to see all of it.” He’s pulling you against him now, and you shake your head, trying to ease out of his grip.

“You don’t know me. You won’t open up to me. You don’t care about anything, and you hated me until you decided you want to what, fuck me first? Claim me? It means nothing.”

“Then stay, then stay and let me try to get to know you. Please.” You want to, fuck you want to, but you can’t fold so easily for this man, for this cruel monster, even if for once he’s kind, you cannot trust him. The man that had so coldly ruined you the first night, the night of your wedding.

How could you forget?

Sobbing on that goddamn floor, then him being so nasty, flaunting Catherine, fucking a random woman on the table, telling you not to exist!? His nasty demeanor, his cruel words, and you could still see yourself making love to him, letting his insane passion consume you both. The borderline of hatred and passion that threatens to destroy you from the inside out.

“You made your choice for us before you even knew me.” You say softly then, as tears fall down your face, and you watch him visibly gulp.

“Please, it can’t be too late. Please.”

“Then tell me, give me something! Fuck, anything Satoru!” You shove at him, and he shuts down, right in front of your eyes, driving you fucking crazy. You sigh, shaking your head. “You shut me out, and expect me to open up? That’s such bullshit.”

“Just don’t go, I’ll do anything, don’t see him.”

“And you-”

“I sent them home! Immediately. For good.” He says, and you gasp at that, blinking rapidly, your heart thrumming in your chest.

“You… immediately?” You ask then, as he confirms what you wondered at before.

Satoru nods then, cupping your face, and you hate what his touch does, not just physically… but emotionally. You crave comfort in the man that brought you all of this pain, as you shut your eyes, mentally steeling yourself for what you’d have to do. To turn him down, when everything in your body craves him, because you just can’t keep going on like this.

“One right thing changes nothing.” You say softly, and watch him be crushed, watch you crush him with your words. You don’t want to say this, you want to believe him, forgive him, kiss him… fuck you want to be that fake couple you all were, to believe the dream, but you’re not that stupid.

“So I can’t ever earn your forgiveness?” He asks softly, and you sigh, looking away then.

“I’ll forgive you, I already have forgiven some things… but it changes nothing. We will not be together soon, and we both can move on from this.”

His face hardens, his grip tight on you. “From ‘this’ What, torture of having to be with me?”

“Yes!” You snap then, turning away and taking several breaths. “Now I have to ruin the happiness I have, because I was a fucking idiot for you.”

He follows you to the door, slamming it now, pressing against your body, his hard body consuming your small one, hands gripping your waist, burning you, everything Satoru Gojo did burned you. You burn for his touch, for his kisses, even if you fucking hate him, even if you hate yourself for it. He’s shooting desire hot through you as his breath against your neck makes you shiver.

“I’ll do anything, let me pleasure you again? Please.” He’s begging, the man who said he’d never want you, gripping you between your thighs over your layers, and you’re whimpering against your will.

“We cannot.” You whisper, making him sigh, kissing against your neck, rubbing against your heat, having you dripping in moments. “We must not. We will not be together, it’s what you wanted.”

“I didn’t know what I wanted.” You exhale, head falling back, as he constantly pulls you to him, like some moth to his flame, as you ache to feel him, as you feel him slowly wrecking your psyche, in this endless push and pull, that will only end in you being crushed. “I’d die to feel you again. Anything you want I’ll do.”

Fuck.

“You won’t open up, you won’t… explain… fuck.” Satoru’s kissing hungrily on your neck, as your hand press against the door, and you’re throbbing around nothing, fuck it would feel so good to let him. You suck in a breath, shake your head, steeling yourself. “I’m seeing him.”

“Please, don’t, I can’t stand it. Please.” His desperation nearly gets you, Satoru could stab you, make you bleed, then whine in your ear and you’d forgive him, you’re so stupid for this toxic man. You hate your body’s reactions, you hate your heart faltering for him.

“I have to tell him what I’ve done.”

“What, let your husband make you cum harder than you ever have?” His words against your ear threaten to destroy your resolve, until you turn around, shoving him back, ignoring the shrunken pupils, making his eyes look insane. Ignoring those glossy lips and his beautiful face.

“It’s not right. None of this is.”

“How is it not right? It’s what we’re supposed to be doing. Fuck, more… if you’d just let me show you, I could make you feel even better-”

“It’s just physical, that’s it, some… reaction.” You take several breaths, as you watch Satoru’s face fall. “It will likely ruin my only happiness, what we did, so you’ll see me sad and depressed again. But not for long, because I can’t wait to annul this marriage, to be free of you.”

He blinks back emotions of his own, and your heart shatters at the glossiness in his eyes. “Give me a fucking chance first!”

“You do not care for me, not one bit! You do not love me. You just want my body, that’s not enough Satoru.”

“As if he doesn’t just want your body.”

“You’re wrong. I suggest you invite those ladies back over, because you’ll not have me in your bed. I can’t fucking take that sort of pain, I was so stupid last night, thank god they came.”

Satoru slams his hand on the door by the side of your head, glaring down at you now. “Fuck that! You know that’s-”

“Let me go.” You say then, through gritted teeth, and he rakes a hand through his white hair, sputtering.

“So there’s just no fucking chance at you?” He says then, and you turn away, hand on the door knob, shoulders shaking as you hold in your sobs. “Answer me, insolent fucking brat.”

You say nothing, walking out the doors then, leaving his devastated face that you can’t stand to see, ignoring his protests as you go to devastate another man with your stupid actions.

“Darling!” Nanami Kento answers the door to his apartments with a grin, but when he sees your serious face, it falters, then his blond brows draw together, that strong jaw tightening. “Is something wrong?”

“Can we talk, Kento?” You ask softly, and you watch him gulp, nodding tersely, letting you in and shutting the door behind you both. Your heart is racing in your chest, stomach feeling so sick, as you think of what you’ll have to say.

“What’s wrong? Did I cross a line last time?” He says, and your heart hurts so badly you damn near can’t breathe, clutching your chest as he stands in front of you, and you feel the walls closing in, dreading hurting him.

“No, not at all. Not one bit. No, you are… Kento, I…”

“Do you need to sit?”

“I… n-no, I should say this and then get out of your sight, surely.” Kento frowns in confusion, a line forming as his brow knits in concern.

“Nothing would make me want you out of my sight.” He whispers, and you shut your eyes as he’s deftly holding your arms in his rough, warm grip.

“I was intimate with Duke Gojo.” He blinks then, gasping, his lips falling apart as he steps back, and you feel like collapsing under your stupid actions, hugging yourself as you watch his face fall.

“You were what with him? What do you mean!?” He chokes out the words, and you take a breath for courage.

“He pleasured me. As you have.” He turns then, raking a hand through his blonde hair, scoffing. “I have wronged you, severely-”

“You let him touch you? Why would you, I don’t fucking understand, the man that said you’re a pig, the one that fucks women in front of you? The man that had you afraid to eat a goddamn cookie?” He is speaking through his teeth, glaring then, and you shrink back, tears welling up in your eyes, as you feel disgusted at yourself.

“I’m so sorry, Kento. I had to tell you, it wouldn’t be right if I continued on, and you had no knowledge.”

“I… what… you… why…”

“I wanted to thank you.” You’re sniffling, tears rushing hot down your cheeks as you watch the pain on his features. “For making me feel so special, for listening to me, for being… so many of my firsts. I am only sorry you met me, that you got hurt by me, please forget about me. Please live your life, and find someone worthy, so that I will be just a bad memory.”

His mouth opens, brows raised, as you cover your face, sobbing into them, turning away then and stumbling to the door. “Where are you going?”

“To leave, so you can forget me. I don’t expect you to ever forgive me.”

“And you’ll be with him?”

“No. I’ll get an annulment, for I cannot go on with him. But it matters naught, it’s no longer something you should worry for. I deserve no kindness.” You choke on a cry then, hand on the knob, but his stops over yours, making you shiver, as he cups your face then, tilting your head. He swipes your tears softly, further breaking your heart, that you’re such a fucking fool.

“Are you running away, Duchess?” He whispers, and you look at him in confusion.

“You cannot want to look upon me. Did you not hear what I’ve done!?”

“You did something with your husband. I expected you to have already been intimate with him, it was surprising when you were not. Did you not think I knew such a role as a… the other man… would not entail that? I’m more surprised you let someone so terrible touch you. Please come talk.”

You gasp, turning a bit towards him. “You do not need to help me with the annulment, with anything. I’m horrible! Don’t you see!?”

“You are not horrible.” You laugh without humor, as you look at his tired, sweet hazel eyes, that are way too fucking kind.

“I am! I let him, I did, don’t you understand I was disloyal?”

“So what, you wanted to feel desired by the man who made you feel so terrible? It’s an entire trauma response. You can’t blame yourself.” He’s caressing your face, and you can’t stand it, can’t stand what you’ve done.

“You’re being too nice! You should hate me!” You shove at his hard chest then, as you struggle more and more to breathe, hands numb, so numb you have to shake them, and he frowns at you, lines in his cheeks deepening.

“Hate you? How could I hate you? You came to tell me, you clearly care for our relationship. I knew this was a possibility. You think I don’t want you now?”

“How can you! How can you!? Nanami…. Fuck I can’t… fuck…” You’re gasping for breath, your throat so tight, like something is sitting on your chest, you nearly collapse, and Nanami holds you then, as you cannot speak.

“Darling, what’s wrong? Please, sit. What can I do?” How can he be so kind to you, you don’t deserve it, any of it. You’re the awful woman who almost laid with Gojo, after everything. You open your mouth to speak, but now you’re feeling fuzzy, as you can’t get a breath. “What can I do!?”

“As-as-”

“Asthma?” He asks gruffly, and you barely manage a nod, as you are seeing black spots, as you’re fading. He rushes off then, coming back with hot black coffee steaming in one of his ceramic cups. “Here, please, drink.”

You gratefully put your lips to the rim of the cup, sipping and then coughing into your hand, so embarrassing, but he urges you to drink again, as you cough up more and more, air flowing finally to your lungs. He continues to feed you sips, deftly unlacing your corset with his free hand, rubbing your back, as you start to come to, with greedy breaths.

You take a deep one, tears dripping off your lashes as you look at him, at his exhale of relief. “Fuck, you terrified me. Are you okay?”

“Thank you… how did you…”

“My nephew has it as well. I should have noticed sooner, you always rub your throat here.” His thumbs brush against your throat, and you swallow nervously, overwhelmed, starting to get upset again, but Nanami is brushing your hair back gently, sighing. “You do not need to get that upset, it makes it so much worse.”

“How can I not be upset that I wronged a man like you!? I hate myself, I hate myself so much!” You’re sobbing holding your hands to your face now, and Nanami gently takes them down, tilting your chin up, and you slowly try to come to, breasts heaving up and down.

“Do not say such things. I do not hate you.” He says softly, his voice breaking in the middle, eyes glimmering with his own emotions, Nanami was always so calm, so collected, but now…

“I hate me enough for you too. Your life would be better if you never met me, if I never-” He slams his lips on yours then, hands gripping your wrists tightly, and you sink into him, into the kiss, before yanking away. “I don’t deserve your kisses! I don’t deserve any attention from you!”

“Will you let me decide what you deserve?” He whispers, pulling you closer, until you’re flush against his chest. “I wish you did not hate yourself, because I feel quite the opposite. I love so much about you, your smile, how you are so different from other nobles, you’re so humble, so sweet. I love your laugh, and how comfortable your presence is.”

“Nanami, you can’t like me. You can’t.” You sniffle more, and he’s got an arm wrapped around your waist, making you feel so safe, so loved almost, when you don’t feel you deserve it. You watch him sigh, as he kisses your forehead, and your eyelashes flutter shut. “You cannot be fine with this, you deserve someone you can have fully, not in pieces!”

“I’d take pieces of you over any whole person.” You kiss him back fervently now, straddling his lap, as your tears flow down your face, and he’s kissing them, his hands ripping off your corset then, shocking you for a moment as you catch a breath.

“Why do you care? Why do you want me?” You ask, through your tears, and he cups your face, gazing at you so seriously, as you feel him hard against you.

“Why wouldn’t I want you? I ache for you, you’re all I can think of, wishing you were here, with me, not with him. Not being destroyed, to the point of hating yourself. Wishing to see that light in those eyes, that girl I met.” You sniffle again, teeth clenching, hands gripping in his hair, as you both taste each other’s breaths.

“She’s dead and gone, Kento.” You whisper brokenly, and he shakes his head, pulling you even closer, so close you can’t breathe.

“She is not, she is right here.” Kento’s hands slide up your stocking clad thighs, pulling you firmer on him. “You will not let this ruin you. I will only leave this if you do not… want me.”

“Kento, how could I not!? How could anyone not want you!”

“I say the same to you. Can you not see what I do?” He kisses you again, and you exhale against his lips, as your tongues meet, as he’s undressing you right on his living room floor, as you’re fervently unbuttoning his shirt, kissing down his chest, his hot skin, earning his sexy soft moans. “Darling… you’re upset. I must stop.”

“Yes I’m upset, I’m upset I hurt you.” You say hoarsely, running your hands down every hard muscle. “I’m upset I was an idiot. A whore.”

“You are no whore.” He says angrily, and you shake your head.

“Oh, I’ve become one lately. Look at me? What I’ve done, hurting you-”

“Let me decide what I can and cannot take.”

“Then take me.” He pauses, at your insanely bold words, as your pulse pounds so hard you can feel it thrumming your whole body like a beat of a drum. “If you want me, take me.”

“If I want you? You speak so foolishly at times, as if you have no clue your effects, as if I haven’t dreamed of this.” You’re in his arms now, as he easily carries you to his bed, kissing you over and over, taking off the remnants of your dress, slipping his fingers down your slit, watching you arch up, gasping. “The nights where I dream of tasting you again.”

“But I…”

“I care not what happened.” Kento’s hot lips trail down your stomach, as his mouth finds you, and it’s harder than he’d gone before, desperate strokes of a skilled tongue, his thick fingers stretching your entrance, and you’re clinging to him, screaming out and shaking.

“Kento! Mmm!” You’re so close, as he pumps those fingers in and out, as he looks up at you, flicking the tip of his tongue on your clit, watching you as you cum, as you lose yourself in him, in his affection, in his care, and you yank on him, pulling him up. “Please, please, please.”

“What you do to me…” He slides up you, fully naked, as you reach down to his thick length, but he halts you, grabbing your wrist, pinning it above your head, studying you. “You must be sure, I do not want you to regret this.”

You take more breaths, as your addled mind runs everywhere, as you see the man that could love you, that cares, so much he forgives your foolishness, then as you shut your eyes, you see Satoru Gojo’s brilliant blue eyes. The sadness in them, the mystery, the coldness, just yesterday you’d been with him, so close to losing your virginity.

“We can stop. I can pleasure you more, sweet girl.” Nanami says, and you look up at him, as he cups your face, as his blond hair falls over his brow just so, a man that is open, that cares, that has not faltered. A man that just made you cum, who you just adore, and now you feel his hot length on your inner thigh. You raise your hips, biting your lower lip, and watching his eyes shut as he moans.

“I want you to be my first, Nanami Kento. You.” You say then, and gasp when he reaches down, rubbing the tip of his cock against you, and he tenses, the hand bracing himself entangling in your hair.

“I only have so much willpower, I will not deny my Darling what she asks.” You melt, smiling up at him, and he smiles just a bit, leaning down, his weight heavy on you. “Just always be honest with me. Will you promise?”

“I promise, I swear, I will be honest.”

“Even if it… hurts me.”

You choke up again, caressing his handsome face with a free hand. “Even if it hurts, I swear.”

“And this may hurt for a moment. Will you forgive me?” You nod then, gasping in shock and pain when his thick length presses inside your eager little entrance, breaking that little barrier so deep, and he pauses, groaning, resting his head on yours as you’re crying in pain. “Fuck, I’m so sorry. Please, give it a moment.”

You feel the burn, as Nanami reaches down, grabbing one of your thighs, pressing in deeper, you feel every emotion known to man as you realize what you’re doing, and that Satoru will hate you. As you feel too full, far too full, so stretched as he pulls back, then presses in again, your teeth clenching from the pain. Nanami looks at you, worry and pleasure mixing on his face.

“You’re too tiny, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. You feel so perfect.”

Perfect, huh?

“Please, let me…” Nanami finds your clit, as he kisses down your throat, and you’re staring at his ceiling, hating yourself, hating all that you feel, and wanting to forget it all. You feel him sucking on your throat, right where Satoru had, as you grow wetter under his ministrations, as you feel him sinking deeper, and it starts to hurt less just a bit.

You hate yourself as he moans, as he looks down lovingly at you, concern in his gaze, as he eases back, then slides in again, and you gasp, as it starts to feel good, clinging to his waist. He’s exhaling, kissing you softly, releasing your clit to grab your breasts, to kiss on them, to gently suck a nipple into his mouth. He rolls his hips just so, hitting a spot deep that feels good.

“Ah! Mmm… I… that feels…” He smiles just a bit, pressing kisses on your lush breasts, sliding one hand to cup your face. “Feels… good.”

“I want you to feel good, sweet girl. I want to feel your perfect little pussy tighten around me.” His husky words, along with the motions of his hips, start to work you up, as your body accommodates, as you stretch around his cock, and get wetter. “You’re so beautiful, darling, you feel so good.”

You melt under his praise, as he now pumps into you, more steady, so deep you feel him completely, as he sinks fully in, moaning and cupping your face with both his hands, eyes looking into yours as he works his hips. Nanami Kento is gently making love to you, touching you everywhere he can, kissing your body everywhere he can, as you fall more into it, into the feelings.

The pressure in your tummy.

The slickness of your pussy.

The trembling of your thighs around his hips.

The way he looks at you.

“Darling… darling let me feel you, let me feel you cum on me.” He says softly, urging you, pressing your thighs up and hitting deeper, making your toes curl, your eyes roll back, as he moves quicker. “Please, let me feel you, my love. Please.”

My love.

You blink a bit, eyes focusing, as your hands pull on his hips, as you feel your body rising higher and higher, like when he pleasures you, but more intensely. “Kento, I think I’m-”

“I feel it, let go love, let go.” He whispers, and you do let go, shattering and cumming around him, and he groans loudly, stilling inside of you, as he watches your face, sighing, his eyes flitting back and forth. “Oh, you’re so beautiful.”

“Kento…” You blink away tears, and he kisses you once more.

“I’m close, darling, you’re too tight, too perfect. Can you cum once more?” He asks softly, and you nod, gasping out when he fucks you harder, tip dragging against that same spot, and you cum again, getting so wet, as he pulls out, huffing, stroking his cock now.

Soon stringy white ropes are spread on your belly, and you’re trembling, overwhelmed by what just occurred. You blanch when you notice blood, leaning up the bed and gasping, for Nanami to shake his head, running his free hand up and down your shoulder.

“Darling, it’s normal the first time. Are you all right?” He asks, so concerned, and your world closes in on you.

You’ll just hurt him more!

You just did this, you just lay with a man, who is not your husband, a man you were so sure would hate you, would never want you again. You can’t quite comprehend what even has happened. Nanami is cleaning you, holding you tightly to him, stroking your hair, and you want to sink into his embrace, but you’re so confused, so disoriented, you just take a few breaths.

“Did I hurt you? Please, speak to me.” His concern makes your tummy flip, makes you feel so sick almost as it sinks in.

“It hurt at first, but then it felt really good.” He exhales, squeezing your body tight against him.

“Oh I’m so relieved, I was so worried I hurt you.” You shake your head, and he tilts your chin up, looking down at you. “Darling, thank you for this, for trusting me with something so precious.”

You smile tremulously, as you run your hands through his hair. “Thank you for being so careful with me.”

“Was I? I worry I went too rough.”

“No, you always make me feel precious.” He kisses your cheeks, as you come down, as you collect yourself, and your reality sets in.

“I’m falling in love with you.” You gasp, mouth wide open, tilting your head back to stare incredulously, seeing his cheeks flush. “You need not say it back, I know you are conflicted, I know you’re so hurt from him still. But I needed you to know, I would have never taken your innocence if I did not feel that way, if I did not feel so much love in my heart.”

Your heart breaks, and you can’t stop the onslaught of fresh tears, fuck how many times have you cried today? As you realize his feelings are deeper than you knew, and you have feelings too but you’re so confused, so overwhelmed by Satoru Gojo, and his feverish effects. You cannot make heads to tails your feelings, you cannot put anything together properly.

“Darling it’s fine, I just had to let you know. How badly I wish I could hold you all night long.” You bury your face against him as he soothes you, as he rocks you, as you feel so different, as you’re sore, as your heart is being pulled into so many directions you think it will combust.

“I wish you could hold me all night.” You say, and he kisses you once more, swiping those tears. “I do not deserve you.”

“You deserve much more than you think. You deserve to be happy.”

Happy.

What was happy?

Was it being in Nanami’s arms, in these brief moments of reprieve? Was it baking cookies, was it his sweet kisses, was it feeling loved, was it hearing Nanami Kento is falling in love? Why then, do you feel so fucking sad, as you think of what Satoru will say, how he will feel. Why do you care, when he fucked how many women!? Why do you care!

Why is he in your goddamn head? As you’ve made love to another man, as Nanami took all your firsts, and as he’s whispering sweet encouragement in your ear, as he helps you dress. As Nanami is kissing you over and over, and your body is so sensitive, as you try to make any sense of anything.

“I have news of the annulment, fuck I got distracted.” You giggle a bit, softly, blushing, and Nanami grins. “There it is, a little laugh for me.”

“Oh, Kento…” You lean up, kissing his chin, as you both sway as if to dance alone in Nanami’s quiet, warm living room, imagining a world where this was your home, how would that feel? “You forgiving me, it makes no sense, but I am glad that you did. I would miss you so dearly.”

“And I would miss you. He has agreed to meet next week, will you be able to do so? Are you ready to try to leave?” You nod then, even as this sinking feeling pulls, you shove it far, far away. You and Satoru were toxic, you hated each other, you were horrible, you both cheated on each other, then hurt each other, and others.

It must end before it begins.

“I wish I could take you back to my room, hold you all night… I wish you didn’t have to go…”

“Nanami, this is what I meant, you’re hurt.”

“I am stronger than you seem to think. I told you, you’re worth any pain.”

“I don’t want you in pain.” You sigh, kissing him over and over, soft and sweet little pecks, and Nanami finally lets you go, brushing your hair back.

“The pleasure of being in your company, of being inside you-” Your breath catches, as he’s whispering in your ear. “Eclipses any pain.”

You sigh, snuggling against him. “Kento, you’re too good for this world.”

“Nonsense. Please be safe, please see me soon. I count the moments until our next meeting, before you even leave.” You both hold hands, and you smile shyly, as you step out into the evening air. “Are you fine to walk, it’s getting dark.”

“I am fine, it’s not far. Good night Kento.”

“Good night darling.” You feel his eyes on you as you walk away, as you are trembling, as the world crashes on you, as you realize you entangle an even larger web than before, as you realize it’s all going to end up with everyone hurt.

You still hate yourself, even if Nanami thinks he loves you.

You walk in the manor, and see Satoru there, at the dinner table, sipping on a drink, looking at you, at first hopeful, then analyzing, his eyes everywhere, and he stands, gripping the glass so hard it shatters into a million tiny pieces. You stand there, sullen and silent, not bragging like before, not in some delicious mood, no you hate yourself more and more.

Satoru walks to you, long strides with his tall legs, until he’s facing you, until his hessian boots touch your slippered feet, and he tilts your chin up, seeing the marks Nanami left, and he chuckles darkly. He grabs you by your hair, pulling tightly, forcing you to look him right in his broken blue eyes, you gulp as you do, as you feel so horrible you can’t take it.

And why.

Why?

He’d done this since the beginning!

Why!?

Why do you care.

Why…

“You fucked him, didn’t you!?” He demands, and all you can do is look down, as he cups your face, with emotions screwing up his beautiful face. “You fucked him, just say it, just say it.”

“I did.” You whisper, and he lets you go roughly, walking to the table, pulling everything off and it crashes to the floor. You tense as you watch him, as you feel yourself already tight in your throat again, you feel your body going numb as you watch him pace, hands in his snowy white hair.

“How could you!? How could you! I sent them home, I’ve waited all day for you, and you were letting another man take your virginity!?” You just sob, brokenly, into your hands, shocked your eyes have wetness left.

“We will… be not together… soon. Annulment. I’m getting one. What does it matter what I do?” You say, in a hoarse, weak voice, and Satoru scowls, grabbing you by your arms then.

“Why would you not give me a chance!”

“Why would you not give me a chance when we met! As soon as we met, you decided this all!” You shove him off you, and smack him then, only for him to smack you right back, shoving you against the table, bare of anything, his face full of rage as you both bear handprints on your faces.

“You stupid fucking girl. So stupid. I begged for you, I was pathetic for you, bloody hell I despise you. I hate you so fucking much.” He’s squeezing your face, and you just cry, eyes shutting.

“I deserve your hatred, as you deserve mine. We both are nothing to each other, nothing! Do you see!?”

“Oh, I see, crystal fucking clear. I’m not good enough, am I?”

Your eyes go wide. “What!? No, you’re just fucking cruel Gojo! You’re mean, you’re nasty, you think eating me out makes it all okay! No!”

“And what sort of whore fucks a man like that, huh?” You glare up at him.

“You, you’re the sort of whore, huh! Fucking mad it wasn’t you?”

“Fuck you. Fuck you.” He’s squeezing you so hard you think you really might break, as you both breathe each other’s air, as you grow light headed, as every inch of you ignites for a man that can’t be yours, a man that hates you. “You exist to destroy me, I knew it from the beginning.”

“You keep saying things like this, as if you did not wish for this, for us to do nothing, I am fulfilling your wishes!”

“All I wished was to know you, to touch you, to be near you, and all you do is crush me. Just like-” He stops then, and you look up at him, eyes fucking burning, as your own hands stop shoving him, just resting, feeling his heart pound against you at an insane rate.

“Just like who?” You ask softly, and he scoffs, leaning low, his lips hovering right over yours, and you hate how you still ache, even after everything, even knowing this was nothing, you want him, you want him.

Why do you?

Why?

Why did you do this?

Why!?

Why do you care?

Why…

“I’ll never open up again to you. Go be a little slut and open your legs for whoever you want, see if I ask to come near you.” You grit your teeth.

“Good! I don’t want you!”

“Good, I will never want you!

“Good!”

“Fuck you, Duchess.” He pulls your hair hard again, and kisses you deeply, overtaking you, bruising your lips, and you gasp, and let him, let his tongue ruin your mouth, let his teeth bite you. He bites your lips so hard you bleed, so you bite him back, and then he shoves you off, chest heaving, red beading his pink pouty mouth. “I hate you.”

“I hate you.” You whisper back, and you hate that it’s a lie, you hate that you care, you hate that his pain hurts you. “I chose someone who loves me.”

“Loves you!? Ha! You’re so stupid.”

“Why, because I think someone could? You just fear no one will ever love you, and I wonder why, maybe because you’re horrible!”

He kisses you again, and you cling to him, tasting the iron of your blood mixing, as you’re moaning, and fuck it feels good. Fuck it’s heady and insanity, and fuck you can’t explain it. It has to stop, it has to. “You’re horrible, a stupid whore. A cold hearted bitch.” He whispers, pulling so hard you think he’ll rip your hair out.

“You helped make me this way.” You bite him again, and he slaps you again, earning you just getting wetter as you smack the fuck out of him back with a loud clack in the air. And damned if you're not wetter than you had with Nanami inside you. Fuck Satoru. Fuck him.

“Hate you so much.” He’s squeezing your throat, and you whimper, earning his soft moan. “Hate you little whore.”

“I h-hate you, Satoru. I’m glad I did it. You get… a taste of… your own fucking medicine, huh?” You whisper, as he squeezes, as he grabs your ass, pressing you against his thigh, and you grind helplessly.

He groans, feeling your heat on his leg, feeling you soak his trousers. “Pathetic, nasty slut, can’t help yourself, can you?”

You suck in a breath, as he presses his thigh up, and you could cum from that. Fuck he’s right, you are, a pathetic slut for this heinous man. “You’re pathetic, man whore, fuck you.”

“I’ll go fuck this entire brothel.” He shoves you then, and you’re coughing, as he walks away, grabbing his coat, and you follow him, furious.

“Oh no surprises there, what do I care, Satoru! What do I even fucking care what you do! Soon you’ll never have to see me again.”

He stares at you, hurt blatant in his eyes, before steeling himself, and you see him, the cold Duke Gojo again.

“Good, I can’t fucking wait.”

Gojo’s POV

Satoru Gojo has two women sucking on his cock that night, as he sips his whiskey, as he thinks of you, of your gorgeous face, covered with his red handprint, as he thinks of leaving handprints all over your slutty body. As he thinks of fucking you better than your silly baker surely did, as he thinks of fucking you so good you scream for him, that you’re convulsing.

Stupid slutty brat, that he still wants, even as he watches the two women make out over his tip, swapping his precum between their mouths. As he pictures another man taking what was his, as he thinks of killing that man, tearing him apart, he sips more of his whiskey, burning a trail down his throat.

“You taste so yummy, your Grace!” One girl giggles, looking up at Satoru and licking her lower lip.

“You do indeed, your grace.” He hums, as they set his glass down, pulling them both to him, each on one thigh.

“Play with each other, would you? Wanna see you both kissing.” Satoru says, and they giggle and kiss, as Satoru runs a hand down their backs, and the liquor has run through him, and he’s just a little dizzy. As he shuts his eyes and pictures fucking your stupid whore mouth until you drool.

Fuck why can’t he stop thinking of you, after you crushed him!?

Why!

Why does he care?

Why!?

Why does Satoru still want you, when he said he never would in the first place, when he swore to himself he was done forever with any women.

Why…

Why do you hurt him so?

Why.

Satoru has two women on a gaudy red bed in a brothel, and he figures fuck it then, fingering one, when he kisses down the other’s stomach, and she gasps as he flicks a tongue over her folds. She’s whimpering, pulling at his hair, like you did, because what did it matter anymore? You weren’t special, you were nothing, you didn’t give a fuck about him.

You fucked someone, who knows maybe he came in you, maybe he’d get you pregnant, maybe you’d go live with him and have babies. Maybe you’d be happy, and if Satoru had love, the love you want, the love you think is real, he’d happily let you go. But Satoru hates you so much now, fuck he hates you, hates how you’ve made him feel things again, just to destroy him.

He’s lapping up this woman, who’s squirting her pleasure all on his face, as the other girl is screaming out, cumming around his fingers, and all he can think of is your taste, is your pretty face. It makes him that much harder, as he dives down on the other woman, while the woman he’d just had cum sinks to her knees, sucking his cock, and he fucks her throat.

When Satoru fucks into one of the women, he doesn’t know their names, he doesn’t care, not when he cried over you, not when you broke him, not when he’s watching the other woman lick her cunt. Not when they’re laying on top of each other, and he’s fucking one, then the other, not even then does he care to know their names, not even then can he forget you.

Satoru can never get over you, the one that was never his. And he wanted it this way, didn’t he? Now he’d never get you, what a fool he was to have thought so, not when you’re in the arms of another, not when you gave yourself away, not when he still would take you, still would die to have you

 The girl who brushed his hair back and tucked him in, who were you truly? You were right, Satoru did not know you, and you did not know him, all he knows is that he burns for you.

All he knows is that he can’t cum, not when he’s picturing you instead, not when he wishes he could feel your needy, slutty cunt with his cock. He can’t even be disgusted by you, you’re too goddamn gorgeous, he wants you too much, he’d take you anyway, he’d take you right after you fucked someone.

And he hates himself for it. Satoru hates himself, and he hates you. He hates that he feels something, he hates that he feels so much, he detests your pretty face, he can’t take your haunting looks. He hates that he understands what you did, that he can’t blame you even in his fury, because you did what he pushed you to do. You just reacted to him, and here he was.

He was a fool.

How could he think a couple right actions would save something that never even got started? How could these two pretty women not do hardly a thing, in any goddamn position, in any pressure on his cock, as he tries to fall into them, to hide the pain, the darkness, that sucks him in, the darkness of his feelings.

You are a black hole, you suck him in and leave nothing.

Your POV

Satoru Gojo is a black hole, he sucks you in, and leaves you with nothing, he scatters you into pieces, crashing to the earth with the weight of his gravity. Satoru Gojo hates you, and he’s fucking his whores, and you can’t stop thinking of him, of the pain in his eyes, in the words he said, so mysterious, in the way the man grabs you, looks at you, with anger, with lust with…

Not love.

It was not love, it could not be, no Nanami loves you, Nanami treats you so right, Nanami cares. Even after all you’ve done, he cares. And you should not feel bad for your actions, you should not feel bad for wanting to be loved, not when you’re with this black hole of a human being.

Then why does it hurt so bad?

Why?

Why do you picture him on top of you?

Why!?

You hate yourself, and you hate yourself so deeply, it’s like you’re unrecognizable, like there’s nothing of you left. Satoru Gojo saps the air from your lungs, he makes you burn for him against your own goddamn will, he makes you question yourself, he consumes you. With his stupid blue eyes, with his demeaning, nasty words that excite you.

Even as you touch your cheek, feeling the sting of his hand, still throbbing from his hits, your nipples tighten in response. You’d lost your virginity today, but you lost more than that, you’ve lost yourself, as you stare at the ceiling, alone in this empty goddamn room, in the cold house, and you rub your throat, as you struggle to catch a breath.

But how could you breathe with Satoru near?

Why did you wish he could take your breath away, why would you gladly give it to him, when he does not deserve it, why do you hate yourself more than you did this morning? Why do you see him, and his stupid pretty face, why does the biting kiss of his cruel lips do more to you than anything else? Why do the very thoughts of him have you panting in your bed.

Your heavy eyes shut, tired of crying, as you fall into a dreamless sleep, as you sink into the cold sheets of your bed, a bed that feels like a prison. In a home that doesn’t feel like a home, but feels like pure hell, hell that you just want to drown in, for a chance to see Satoru’s evil goddamn soul. For him to let you in.

Why are you like this?

Why…

ao3 chap : https://archiveofourown.org/works/58976983/chapters/152639695

A/N: Well... mmhmm. Hope you all um, enjoyed!? This traumatic ass insane chapter. Did you think they were going to make progress yet? Oh no, dear readers it's a toxic, enemies to lovers slow burn. I put alot of work into this so I hope it shows <3 I put these out very fast, but I do not enjoy the pushiness of some people demanding chapters out even quicker! I'm writing 10k plus chaps in less than a week lol. Please respectful when asking for updates.

Love you all SO MUCH. I can't wait to read your thoughts, I just love them :)

Until next time, dear Masochistic readers.

Part Eight

[sabertoothwalrus]

Your tags on the Elven Queen vs Laois "close to a mixed race child" and the differences and. The fact that Marcille as well half elf head magic advisor, him canonically wanting his misfit friends help him run the country (whether capable or not). She can't even pull the "older and wiser" card with Yaad "I'm older then all you long life races" around. She thinks about how somehow this all boils into a fairly successful kingdom and gets a migraine

Godddd I spent so much time thinking about dungeon meshi politics yesterday.

I genuinely don’t think the Queen of Elves would have a change of heart towards mixed-blood people. I think it would stress Kabru the FUCK out because the political tensions this would cause (but also he’d be a smug about making the elves angry, serves them right.)

The dwarves are a different story. Even if the King also hated mixed-bloods, most dwarves look to their local governance than the King. It’s also common for dwarves & gnomes to have families together, so at the very least, dwarves are accepting mixed-bloods as long as they’re both long lived races.

Even if they weren’t, it’d be funny if dwarves became more progressive culturally just because they hate elves so much shfhshdhsjs AGAIN. THE POLITICAL IMPLICATIONS OF THIS.

Imagine. Marcille feeling guilty and targeted simply for being mixed-blood on a royal council. Trying not to feel like her whole existence is undermining the legitimacy of Laios’s new kingdom.

And the worst part? she’s GAY

LIKE!!! we don’t know how accepting this world is of gay people. And ngl I sometimes think it’s more interesting when stories have homophobia. We know the village the Toudens grew up in was fairly conservative. We know Otta is a canonical lesbian, but she was, yknow… arrested.

What if Laios, wishing the best for his little sister and one of his closest friends, legalizes gay marriage in Melini. What if their marriage isn’t recognized in other countries? What if people start to move to Melini BECAUSE they want to get married. What if Melini is seen as some silly, backwards, laughing-stock of a kingdom. God, Kabru would be like “listen I love what we’re doing here but I’m trying not to start an outright WAR. 😭”

Oh god I haven’t even touched on Falin’s chimerism. That’s probably also a sore subject. WHEW!

[lion-writer]

I’ve seen a lot of headcanons and fics where Viago disapproves of Rook getting together with Lucanis. And ones that focus on how an alliance with the De Rivas benefits House Dellamorte, which is definitely true, and i fucking love them, but consider Viago probably couldn’t possibly ask for a better partner for Rook.

Though to be fair I am obsessed with Viago and his belief that he could restore the royal power of Treviso and that “He will not be satisfied until he sits upon a throne.”

While as a talon, he’s definitely more powerful than the king, and he could probably easily overthrow his father and take the throne. But that's probably not his biggest issue, because as my old history teacher used to say, “Power cannot be created or destroyed, only transferred”, so by restoring the power of the royal family, he’d be taking power away from the merchant princes and the other talons. Which, it’s probably safe to assume they wouldn't be happy about”. (Also as a side note, the quote “It’s not paranoia if they’re out to get you” is applicable here. Viago is a man planning to make A Lot of enemies)

And remember, this man is still the 5th talon, and while he’s allied with Teia, she’s also only the 7th talon. (Though they definitely should have gotten a promotion after the events of 8 little talons). So he’s not really in any position to actually make any power play, not unless he wants to piss off 6 of the other houses. 

Thankfully, depending on the choices you make, by the end of Veilguard, he’s almost certainly up there among the most powerful people in Antiva, given that he was a key player in ending the occupation of a major city by the Antaam, not to mention the killing of a Literal Evil God. The only Antivans that could be more influential than him at this moment is Teia, who he’s dating and let's be honest, will eventually marry, Rook, who’s his protege, 

Among those people, Lucanis is probably the most politically powerful, given that he’s done everything Viago has, in addition to the fact that he actually killed a god, and is now The First Talon. While I feel that he would support Viago in the bid for the throne, he’s also the only one who Viago doesn’t have any sort of formal alliance with. And considering Viago’s general distrust towards basically everyone, he wouldn’t place that much trust in the bonds of friendship, (especially if you believe that he thinks that Lucanis’s attempt at flirting was a threat).

But given the general political upheaval Antiva is probably already in right now, because It’s highly doubtful that Governor Ivenci was the only guy to make deals with the Antaam or Venatori for power, there’s no better time for Viago to make a play for power. With everything so recent it would be so easy for him to step forwards as a figure for people to rally behind, I mean he exposed corruption in the government, he freed Treviso, he trained a god killer, and he’s the son of the king. But If he waits, he kinda does risk somebody else stepping forth.

But after Ivenci’s attempt at getting rid of the crows and the whole Illario debacle, the other Talons would be very suspicious of anyone trying to take power, and while Viago is a Crow, he’s also an infamous curmudgeon who doesn’t really get along with the others. 

Luckily, Lucanis is head over heels for Rook, which cements an alliance with House Dellamorte. And well, there’s quite a historical precedent, especially in Antiva, for alliances and weddings to go hand in hand. Not to mention the message it would send to the other talons for Viago to give away Rook, his protege for whom he has already demonstrated a soft spot for, to The First Talon, arguably The Face of the Crows. In addition, a grand high profile Wedding between two heroes who just saved the world, is the perfect thing for the general public to associate Viago with after everything. 

I mean I’m pretty sure he would still grumble about it and he’d definitely let Lucanis know that if he ever dared to hurt Rook, Lucanis would wish he was still trapped in the Ossuary. But once he’s certain that they’re serious about each other, Teia and him would be the first people to start bugging them about marriage.

[atrwriting]

comfort — aegon x fem!reader

did anyone else fall victim to season 2 completely changing your viewpoint on aegon? i used to fucking hate this guy. honestly i still hate season 1 aegon. i almost didn't post this because i hate him soooo much. i've chosen to separate season 1 and season 2 aegon because the show and book are works of fiction — but please read with caution. at the end of the day, this is still aegon — and he is still a royal asshole and should very much be locked up in jail.

but like why did season two make me feel bad and want to comfort this fucker like what the fuck

as always, warnings: aegon is a fucking warning, smuuut, aegon has a praise kink, oral sex, p in v sex, aegon is a bit of a meaniehead in this, alcoholism, my own sick and twisted self indulgence because i like swear i could fix him

i refuse to fucking edit and im only slightly sorry

____

“i never wanted to be king..." he mumbled, drinking his wine. "to keep them safe... and for what? for what!?"

your heart fell at his words. it split and shattered into a million pieces, but slowly. the pain was so slow. it froze you — held you in its grasp so the only thing you could do was stare at the king, who sank slowly into his own despair — and also his chair.

you swallowed — unsure of how to proceed.

“more wine, your grace?” you asked, hoping to appear cheerful.

with his back turned, his own answer was his outstretched hand with his goblet in his grasp.

your pour was hefty.

he sighed before he brought his chalice to his lips, taking two gulps of the deep plum liquid. you didn’t want to linger — for you knew the king enjoyed his solitude or the company of a young lady.

you wanted to make haste before he remembered either of the two.

“is there anything else i can do for you, my king?” you asked. “i can fetch you something to eat —“

“no,” he spoke. “i’m not hungry. — sit with me. pour yourself a glass.”

your eyes widened as your clutched the wine. sit — with the king? and share wine? you had never heard of such a thing. you had heard of his crude, and horrible behavior — but not this. definitely not this.

but what else were you to do but obey? nothing. absolutely nothing. you had no choice.

you pulled out the chair, and aegon pulled another glass toward his. the king... retrieved you a glass? you had set the wine down on the table so you could pull your chair out with shaking hands, hoping to keep them steady. aegon, the king, had taken it upon himself to not only get you your own chalice, but also pour wine for you.

gods, you thought. what have i found myself in?

“thank you, my king,” you spoke, settling into your seat. “would it please your grace to drink in silence?”

he tapped his fingers on the top of the table. you could not meet his eyes, for fear of upsetting him. you weren’t sure if you could feel his eyes on you, but you did not want to make the first move.

“the servant girls like you — they do not look at me,” he spoke, taking another swig of his wine. “due to my actions as a boy, no doubt. i must assure you — i am a man now. a king.”

“of course, your grace,” you answered. “we are very lucky to serve you and your family.”

“very lucky…” he scoffed, a sad smile on his face. he was not displeased with you — and you couldn’t place why, but you could tell it was not you. you surmised it was something else. “lucky? to work in this castle? when war brews closer every day?”

you swallowed thickly, unsure of how to proceed. you shouldn’t have. you really shouldn’t have — and you knew it, you could feel it in your bones — but a part of you also knew that it could do some good. maybe not a lot, but at least some. “we know that you would do anything to protect this castle — and the people inside of it, your grace. we are lucky.”

was it a lie? yes. none of the servants believed that they were safe, and those that did — they did not credit aegon. they might credit the webs alicent could weave, aemond’s dragon, or cole’s stones — but not aegon. definitely not aegon. not even aegon gave aegon, himself any credit, for he knew the truth. everyone knew the truth — but where would self pity get the king? where would his low self esteem place you and the small folk? nowhere. absolutely nowhere.

and that’s why you lied.

you lied through your fucking teeth.

you had to lie — for the good of the realm. for the good of the small folk. for your own good.

and what did he do? he laughed.

he fucking laughed.

you weren’t surprised — you knew that he was difficult to reason with, prone to expressions of raw, irrational emotion.

what you didn’t expect was that his laughs turned into tears.

you don’t know why — but you immediately stood.

sitbackdownsitbackdownsitbackdown, someone in your head chided. sitbackdownsitbackdownsitbackdown.

but you didn’t listen. you should’ve listened.

you stood and took a few steps towards the king.

thumpthumpthumpthumpthump.

your heart pounded in your ears, and soon you though you could feel it rise into your throat. you would’ve choked on it if you had waited any longer to do what you wanted to.

you reached for his hand — not really knowing what you would do if you had successfully intertwined your fingers with his. it didn’t matter — for aegon smacked your hand away. he snapped his head up to look at you, glaring.

he immediately stood from his seat, towering over you. his eyes were ablaze, consumed by anger and threats. his lips were thin in a snarl, having replaced his sadness with aggression.

“you dare touch the king?” he bit, holding you by the wrist.

you gasped as he yanked your arm, a strangled cry leaving your lips. “i wanted to offer comfort, your grace —“

“offer comfort?1” he spat once more, shaking his head in disbelief.

“yes, your grace,” you said softly. “only comfort.”

his eyes took a moment to soften, but when they did… you regretted coming into the room altogether — even if it was your job to serve him. you could have asked someone else. could've, could've, could've.

but then...

oh, then...

a bittersweet taste rested in your mouth once you saw regret, shame, and guilt all swirl within aegon’s purple irises. all three. like three flames, all from one dragon — consuming the very thing before it until there was nothing left. his eyes, once filled with glee, then tears, and then anger, and now this? this? — you didn’t know how to proceed, or if you should at all.

he was the king — but at the end of the day, at the end of it all — he was just a young man.

just a young man.

“i am sorry, your grace,” you whispered, not daring to move. “it won’t — it won’t happen —“

“i am sorry,” he immediately blurted out.

your eyes snapped up to meet his. you seemed to be as surprised to hear his apology as he was to find himself saying it.

he dropped your arm.

“you were kind to me…” he spoke, trailing off — seemingly trying to find the words. he was looking down at you, studying your expression.

you feared the mix of emotions were present on your face, and you were worried how that would affect a safe exit from this situation. “i should not have reached for you, my king, and for that i am —“

“i shouldn’t have lashed out at you,” he interrupted you. “no one has ever…”

he didn’t finish. he couldn’t finish, you realized. and by the look on his face — he knew he couldn’t finish that sentence either.

“it’s alright,” you spoke, and meant it. “i just wanted you to know — you weren’t alone, your grace.”

he didn’t speak. he just… slowly nodded in acknowledgment and in thanks.

you repeated the gesture, curtsied, and left the room.

you did not expect to see the king again — but you also did not ever expect to be called to his chambers in the late hours of the evening.

you grew fearful and weary — what did he want with you? he had never shown interest in you, especially not since the incident a week prior. you avoided him like the stranger, and he most likely was glad for it — or so you thought.

when you entered his chamber, you found him in his night shirt and riding leathers. he was standing in the middle of the room, only illuminated by the burning hearth. the red and orange flames accented the bags under his eyes, and his teeth that were stained with wine.

“you’ve been avoiding me,” he accused suddenly.

that was all he said. small folk like yourself were not trained to… deal with accusations such as that. he was not an equal — he was the fucking king.

“i was embarrassed that i had forgotten my place,” you spoke, curtsying. “my apologies, your grace.”

“your apologies?!” he bit, tossing the empty chalice of wine onto the floor. he stalked towards you with purpose, not stopping until he was inches from your face. “apologies? what good are they if you’ve been in my goddamn head for a week?!”

he was seething then — beyond recognition. consumed by anger, unable to bring himself back to level. his skin was of a flush that suggested emotion — frustration, distrust, betrayal. his eyes, though purple, were bloodshot red. with each word he shouted, spit spewed from his lips and collected at the corners of his mouth.

and then you realized: the king wasn’t angry — he was hurt.

“what is bothering you?” you asked, ignoring his initial question while trying to keep your own resolve level.

“...what?” he demanded, confusion and anger now mixing together in his brow.

“your grace,” you began. “tell me what is wrong.”

he took a step back. his eyebrows knit together as if he didn’t recognize you — didn’t understand why you were here, who you were, or what you could want. distrust was the only thing at the forefront of his gaze, but you knew you had to break that barrier. you knew, you knew, you knew.

this time — he did not flinch when you reached for him. he did not flinch when you pressed a soft, open palm against the side of his tear-stained face. he did not flinch when you stroked your thumb on his cheekbone. he did not flinch when you placed your other hand on his other cheek, and pulled his face down to rest his forehead against yours.

“i will not avoid you again,” you whispered.

he didn’t reply, but you felt him relax against you. you entwined one of his hands with yours, and led him towards the bed.

you discarded your night robes, leaving you in your night shift. aegon watched in awe — and his jaw slightly fell open when you got on the bed, and stretched out your open arms to him.

“join me, my king?”

aegon couldn’t help himself. he glossy eyes raked over your body, barely hidden by your night shift. the cool night air of the castle caused your nipples to harden underneath the linen, leaving your breasts looking supple enough to taste. the outline of your waist and round hips were enough to make his cock stir in his leathers, but he found his hands beginning to shake. fucking delectable he found you. he may have taken off his pants, but it was not to fuck.

aegon, the king of the seven kingdoms, climbed onto the bed and rested on top of you. you wrapped your arms around his mid section as he nestled his nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet smell. one of your hands began to tangle itself in his short, wavy locks — forcing aegon to relax in a way that flying, wine, or fucking could never do for him. a sigh of relief left past his lips — one that he didn’t know he was holding, nor one that he thought he was capable of releasing.

you kissed the side of his face, causing emotions to swell within his chest he never experienced before — was never prepared for. if his initial reaction wasn’t to freeze, he would’ve lashed out at you. called you names he didn’t mean. pushed you out of bed in a way he didn’t mean. and never speak to you again in a way he didn’t mean. thankfully, he froze. he froze for long enough that he convinced himself that he could relish in this sweet feeling — even if only for a short while.

“you are so sweet,” he whispered, before drifting off to sleep.

you fell asleep for a short while later, letting yourself enjoy the weight of the prince above you. it calmed a certain anxiety in your chest, and you were selfish with it — hoping to take whatever the king would give.

you felt him stirring on top of you after some time — well into the night, and well into where only hot coals rested in the hearth at the center of the room. they glowed red, but there was not enough heat nor light to reach you and aegon. you held him tighter for warmth, pulling the blanket up over the two of you in the cold darkness.

“surprised you haven’t told me i’m crushing you yet,” he spoke into your neck, breath hot against your skin.

a small laugh died in your throat. “i’m very comfortable, my king.”

you began to stroke the hair at the nape of his neck, twirling the curls in between your fingers. he hummed at the sensation, obviously enjoying it. one of his hands was dragged up the length from the top of your thigh, to your breast. the fabric of your linen pulled with his hand, but it stopped when his hand found the curve of your breast.

aegon stared at the sweet, delectable looking nipple that was poking through the linen due to the night chill. he held the weight of your breast in his palm, and used his thumb to draw circles on the nub. the roughness of the linen, coupled with the cool sensitivity of your bud, and the rising tension in the air made warmth spread throughout your body. aegon, well… aegon watched you watch his hand. he watched for any sign of displeasure — because he would’ve withdrew. he would’ve withdrew if you did not look as though you would enjoy it if he continued.

“tell me to stop if you wish,” his voice was soft and cautious in the lack of light as he played with your nipple. he would’ve stopped, he so would’ve — but he was hoping so desperately that you would let him wrap his lips around your sensitive nub and suckle, possibly with his other hand between your thighs as he played with your supple folds. “if you tell me to stop, i will stop.”

“…i don’t want you to stop,” you whispered into the darkness, no longer trapped in fear, shyness, or insecurity.

something in aegon’s chest leapt.

through his pink lips, his tongue poked through and wrapped around your sensitive nipple through your night shift. the taste of linen was foreign and strange, but aegon craved to see the look on your face when you felt the combination of the cool air, his warm, wet mouth, and the linen all working together to create the most delicious feeling of friction you had ever felt on such a sensitive area.

and by the look on your face — aegon was right.

aegon grew confident — bold even. selfish. he lightly bit the sensitive nub, causing a sharp intake of breath from you. he chuckled against you — pleased with your frustration in response to his teasing.

“a good king would show equal attention to both breasts, wouldn’t he?” he asked, in between kisses to your nipple. “can i take off your shift and show you?”

“please,” you whispered, shivering with chill and pleasure.

though your shift was opaque and did not leave much to the imagination, aegon could not believe his eyes when he took of your shift. he would burn all shifts if he could — therefore barring you from every covering up your beautiful body. your beautiful, perfect skin caught what light the fire could spare and aegon watched as goosebumps rose on your skin with every pass of his hand. you watched him as he stared at every bit of your front, letting his hands run up and down your body.

"i have never felt anything so soft," he spoke, before leaning his head forward.

he couldn't help himself. how could he? he was the fucking king. he didn't have to waste time with pleasantries. he had your consent, and he had your willingness, and he had the most beautiful breasts he had ever seen right before his eyes. he was greedy as he suckled at your breast; pulling and tugging the sensitive nub between his lips and rolling it. he did the same with your other breast, but with his hand. he could play with your breasts all night long if you let him, and he considered asking.

but then... oh, then... then he smelled the faint sweet aroma of your slick building and trying to escape from your lustrous folds in between your thighs.

that had never happened... with a woman he hadn't paid...

your nipple popped from his mouth, and now he played with both nipples in between his thumb and index fingers. you gasped at the sensation — so sensitive. you glanced down at aegon through your thick lashes and flushed cheeks.

he was peacefully smiling — while you were on the cusp of insanity.

"i feel as though i have been neglecting other parts of you," he spoke with a knowing smile. his beautiful eyes were no longer red and teary, but bright and hopeful. "as a good king, will you let me make it up to you?"

"yes," you gasped, trying to fight the urge to rock your hips into him. "please, your grace."

he wasted no time.

he slid down the length of your abdomen and threw your legs over his shoulders. his breath was hot and heavy on your cunt, making you shiver at the juxtaposition of the cool night air. you could hear him humming — pleased — below you as he spread your wet lips. aegon watched as the small flames caught the wetness and let ghosts of past flames dance on your more precious spot.

he couldn't help himself. he licked up the length of your slit.

you immediately threw your head back, gasping. your fingers fisted the silk sheets of aegon's bed, hoping to ground yourself.

you heard a scoff from below you before aegon grabbed one of your hands, and put it on his head. you cooed in response — pleased — before tanging your fingers throughout his strands. he hummed in approval against your clit, making you shiver once more.

"you taste so sweet," he whispered. "like nectar."

he spread your folds before he wrapped his lips around your most sensitive bud, sucking on it. two of his fingers found your leaking hole and pressed in slowly, nudging at the inner wall. your hips were writhing at this point as your head filled with all sorts of nonsense. heat and pleasure and smoke and wine — they curled in your psyche like beings in the water, playing together. aegon was relentless with how he lapped up your juices, greedy for more and more.

he couldn't stop. he wouldn't stop. the way your fingers curled on his scalp — scratching and soothing — was all of the encouragement he needed to keep going. he let your writhing hips work on his face. a good king would never deny a lady the extra friction she needed to reach her peak. your peak. all he wanted to do was bring you to your peak so he could see the fucked out look on your face. he wanted it so badly he began to dig his own his against the silk sheets, cock straining to find any sort of relief. he was beginning to grow feverish, which only inspired him to work a your faster and messier. he wanted your climax. he had earned your climax.

"'m so close," you whined. "'m so close, my king. please don't stop... please..."

he found himself pushing a third finger in, demanding your orgasm from you. that orgasm was no longer yours — but something he could give and also take from you. you would experience it, but it would be his. his win. his glory. his trophy.

and when your hips snapped up... he knew he had you.

he slammed your hips down onto the bed to keep you from moving — keep you from moving away from his tongue. his tongue was relentless in the way it continued its work on your clit as you came. you shoved your head into the pillow as all of your muscles went taut, letting wave after wave after wave after wave crash over you and pull you under. you were gasping for air, twisting and turnin away from aegon as the sensitivity became so much. too much. bittersweet, making you push him away but wanting to pull him towards you.

he ripped himself from you when he was finished, your juices flowing still caught on his chin. through your post-orgasm haze and half closed eyes, you watched him through your half-closed eyelids. there, aegon stood over you, fisting his cock over your body.

"inside me, your grace," you whispered. "please."

that was all aegon needed. with one swoop, his cock had bested the threshold of your cunt. his lips found one of your breasts, suckling on the nipple, as he began thrusting his length inside of you.

your hands found the back of his head, pulling at the roots of his hair. your small gasps were music to his ears as he rocked his hips against yours, chasing his high.

"you're so good, aegon..." you whined at the feeling of aegon taking every sensitive area for his own. "so sweet..."

his heart strings were pulling at her words as a flush reached his cheeks. he was not embarrassed, no — he was encouraged. a woman — a perfect, beautiful, and supple woman lay before him and begged for his touch. for his caress. for the pleasure he could bring her — the both of them. she held him so close to her breast as he fucked his cock into her. the intimacy of the position had awakened something carnal in him; something sick and twisted that wanted more, and more, and more.

"that's it... just like that..." you spoke. "take what you need, my sweet. you're so good..."

his hips were beginning to stir at your words, foreign to his ears. he was rutting into you like an animal now at your praise, sure to leave bruises on your breasts by the sunrise.

"all yours..."

fuck. fuck. fuck.

he didn't know what to do.

it had never crept up on him so fast.

a blush was rising to his cheeks he had not known since his first orgasm. an exasperated gasp was rising and falling in his throat, ready to escape and fill the room.

"so good for me," were your final words.

aegon came with a sob. a fucking sob. he snapped his hips twice into your sopping wet cunt before his balls tightened, tightened, and tightened — shooting whatever he could into you. thick, hot, white ropes decorated the inside of your cunt in the most pathetic and desperate manner. his hips continued to rut his spend into you, desperate for his release. you could hear his whines and cries in your ear, working himself through his own orgasm as your sweet words of praise guided him to where he needed to be.

"that's it, sweetheart," you spoke against his ear, causing him to shiver. "you're just so good for me, my king."

all he needed was a bit of comfort.

____

comments and critiques plz :P <3 xox - L

[celestiamour]

May I request a flirty Edmund x flustered fem reader? Like the reader is trying to tend to his wounds after a battle or something but Edmund keeps distracting her by trying to show off and making teasing comments? And could it be a non-established relationship?

umm, I know you said requests were open (and you have the right to write what you want anyways) but if you don't want to do this then feel free to ignore this :))

anyways thank you! have a great day<3

ft. edmund pevensie x f! reader — the chronicles of narnia

╰₊✧ edmund flirting while you tend to his wounds┊0.7k words

setting: unspecified narnian age contains: descriptions blood/injury & mentions of battle, ed is a cheesy menace, medical inaccuracies probably

➤ author's note: i made it a bit shorter than planned, but i hope it’s still okay and that you’ll enjoy!!

“oh, god, edmund!” your concerned voice was a bit louder than it was supposed to be upon the sight of one of your beloved kings being brought into the medical tent, prompting you to quickly apologize to everyone in there before rushing to his side. the battle was already over and victory had been named for your kingdom of narnia, so several soldiers injured from the aftermath were being brought to you for recovery (thankfully, there weren’t so many that the youngest queen needed to go running around healing them with her elixir). “i was really hoping not to see any royalty today…”

he seemed a bit paler than usual from blood loss, but he weakly smiled at you rushing to his side, “edmund, huh? whatever happened to you insisting on calling me by my title?”

“is that really what you’re focusing on?” you immediately started removing his armor and cutting away at the fabric of his sleeve that obscured the damage for examination. it looked like an arrowhead got lodged in his arm and the wooden shaft got broken off at some point, needing to be removed in order for you to progress. “stay still and count to ten.”

“i don’t need to count to ten when the ten is right in front of— fuck!!” he almost bit his tongue in the middle of his compliment when you took the opportunity to take out the piece of metal with a pair of tongs, swiftly tossing it on a tray then applying pressure and working your magic as you were trained to.

“stop being so cheeky and let me get you cleaned up!” you huffed, trying to focus on your work instead of his flirtatious advances. it was no secret to anyone with eyes and ears that edmund fancied you and has been trying to woo you for quite some time now, but it seems that the only thing preventing you from being officially courted by him was your own denial of your feelings. even if the royal family made it clear that they would marry for love rather than status, you would still deny with everything in you that he always manages to make you falter without fail.

“a-at least if i die, the last sight i see will be the most beautiful girl in existence by my side,” he joked before hissing at the stinging sensation of you cleaning his wound. it was nowhere near the worst pain he felt or the closest he’s ever been to death, but he thought it would be funny to exaggerate the agony to get you to pay more attention to him as if it wasn’t already all on him.

“don’t say that! it’s not even bad enough to be that much of a bother, just remember to wash the wound with alcohol and change the bandages every day.”

“so i guess that means i’ll be seeing you every day since none of my servants are professionals like you are? i’m a king, you know, so it would only be expected to have the best of the best look after me!”

“… fine, i guess i’ll see you around this time for the next week for so until you’re fully healed…” his stupid smile made you get all hot and you turned around so that he couldn’t see your face for your reaction, but the very action told him everything that he needed to know.

“so do you think you could also help me up then walk be back to the palace to announce our victory and our relationship?”

“you hurt your arm, not your legs, so you don’t need my help to go back! also, we aren’t even a couple yet, there’s nothing to announce!”

“not a couple yet? so you admit that we will be someday?”

“oh, you’re insufferable!”

his cheeks ached a bit from all the smiles and laughter, able to ignore the pain like it was a mere paper cut thanks to the amusement teasing you has brought him. the day you’ll be his and he’ll be yours (although he always was yours) is close, he could feel it— and he’ll gladly milk this minor injury as much as he can if it means bringing that moment closer to him by spending more time with you.

[boiohboii]

The Royal Way

(Leclerc!reader x prince of monaco!OC)

After his older sister marries into the Monaco Royal family, Charles knew he would be treated differently, to his surprise (and his sister's disappointment) his F1 team, ferarri, treated him the same way.... and that did not sit well with the new princess of Monaco

or

in which YN Leclerc uses her new familial connections to fuck up ferarri just like how they fucked up her baby brother's hopes and dreams.

N.B: I AM BACK WITH A DIFFERENT TYPE OF REVENGE SMAU! ALSO, FORGIVE ME IF THE FORMAT IS DIFFERENT I MIGHT HAVE FORGOTTEN SOME STUFF, I AM WORKING ON PT 2 RN SO HOPEFULLY YOU WON'T HAVE TO WAIT LONG! WARNINGS: not proofread, fuck ferarri (they are the bad guys here), also ferrari is written wrong, I will correct myself in pt2! Hope you like it! Let me know what you think!!

Masterlist

Liked by Charles_leclerc, Fararri, Maxverstappen1 and 12,820,746 others

MonacoUpdates: congratulations to our new princess, YN Leclerc, and our prince, Thierry, on their wedding. The entire nation wishes you a happy life together 💗💗.

username: PRINCESS YN LECLERC!! LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOO

username: NOOOO!! YN BABYY! WHAT ABOUT OUR KIDS

username: YN and Thierry are OUR ROYAL COUPLE

username: anyone remembers their paddock era?

username: the only time ferarri gave my boy a decent strategy

username: don't remind me, since they have been planning their wedding and not going to the paddock ferarri has been so shitty to Charles

Liked by Princess_YN_Leclerc, Pierregasly, landonorris and 1,309,682 others

Charles_leclerc, Arthur_leclerc and lorenzotl shared a post.

We didn't want to let you go, none of us wanted to walk you down the aisle because that meant that you will not always be here, you will have your own family now, your own little ones to look after and not three younger brothers who just annoy you because they can. You always looked out for us, took care of us, walked us to school, took us to our races and cheered us on. You were always there, never leaving us alone; a presence we love and crave because your arms feel like home. Whenever mum would work too much you would help us with our homework, make us dinner and tuck us in. It was the happiest and the saddest day for us, to see you walking away from us in the arms of another man who will cherise you and love you to the end of time. We love you so so much, please don't stay away too long and visit us because we will always be your little ones.

Congratulations to the both of you ♥️♥️♥️

Princess_YN_Leclerc: God you three are making me cry. I love you three so much, I can never live without you. You were always spying on me whenever I'd mention a date, even when it was our country's prince it didn't deter any of you a bit. You will always be my three little musketeers who make me laugh, smile and scream.

username: MY THREE LITTLE MUSKETEERS!! FUCK OFF!!

username: God, this family makes me so sappy, I love it

username: BECAUSE YOUR ARMS FEEL LIKE HOME!!!

username: what my parents wished for when they had me and my brother

username: if they don't fucking post a video of the Leclerc boys walking their sister down the aisle i will scream, CAUSE I KNOW THEY WERE CRYING

landonorris: oh, they were fucking bawling mate

danielricciardo: full on sobs, even max was crying

maxverstappen1: I did no such thing

lewishamilton: I can confirm that max was weeping

maxverstappen1: fuck you man @.lewishamilton

Part 2

[commandershepardvasfuckit]

An Arranged Marriage, part 24

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 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23

1.2k words

Things may have not gone to plan, but you finally felt close to Zen.

(I am feral over my own character, ask box is always open for talking about my writing or just monster fucking in general!)

--------

A warm fire crackled in the hearth as you sat on Zen’s lap, both still naked. He was warming up the food he had brought home for dinner and you did not want to separate from him when he had gotten up from the bed. You cuddled against his chest while he reached around you to place everything at the edges of the hearth to warm up.

“Aren’t you cold just sitting on the floor?” you asked.

“Not with the hearth lit, and you are keeping me warm” he gave you a quick nuzzle.

A new layer of comfort had settled between the two of you, no barriers remained. Things did not exactly go as planned, but that hardly mattered now. All that remained now was room to grow.

Zen handed you food as it was ready, minced meat and vegetables wrapped in some sort of pastry, while he hummed his usual song.

“You got home early today” you pointed out to him.

“Bira came by and told me I needed to go home and check on something.”

“And you still stopped for food on the way home?”

“It did not seem like an emergency and we still need to eat” he shrugged.

You could not help but laugh a bit. Both Bira and Ba’tual had pointed out a few times that Zen used to skip meals most days, too caught up in everything else to take care of himself. It was not that he looked scrawny or anything when you first met, but now that he was eating well and sleeping through the night he sure did look a lot healthier.

He kept an arm wrapped around you to hold you close while he ate too, which was cozy, though you did have a complaint.

“You’re getting crumbs in my hair” you said and tried to brush them off.

“And I will help you get them out after too” he said.

The two of you sat in comfortable silence at the hearth for a while, Zen’s tusks tapped against the sides of your head while he tried to kiss the top of your head. With the sun starting to set the familiar chill started to set in.

“How about I run a hot bath for us?” Zen offered as if reading your mind.

You nodded against his chest and let him pick you up. Even from this awkward angle with you siting on his lap he lifted you with ease.

The warm water of the bath felt good against your cool skin while Zen washed your hair, getting the crumbs out as promised. Between the feeling of him purring while you leaned back against his chest and him playing with your hair you could have easily fallen asleep like that.

“You look comfortable” Zen said.

“I am” you answered.

“I like that, I like that you are comfortable here and around me” he said as he helped rinse the shampoo from your hair.

“Did you ever plan on getting married, like in general?” you asked.

“I have planned on very few things in my life, things just happen and I pray that they work out.”

“Like this?”

“Like this” he repeated, “And I am very happy things are working out. But you expected to marry, right?”

“I did, and when I was little my family did come to an agreement with another family that if their son could make a name for himself and climb the ranks in the royal navy I would be promised to him.”

“And you were alright with that?”

“It’s just life. He’s from a good family so it would have been a good match” you shrugged.

“Am I a good match?”

You had not put much thought into it truthfully, no more thought than that you were marrying someone who was not human. “Well, you’re a representative on the king’s council and the avatar of a god, so technically I might have married above my station.”

“And that is a good thing?” he asked cautiously.

“Technically this is a very good marriage for me.”

“Technically?”

“Yes, in theory this is a good marriage for me because I married up. But honestly you’re just a really good husband Zen.”

He wrapped his arms around you tightly and pulled you as close as he could without crushing you, “I am trying to be” he said against the side of your head.

You stayed entwined in the tub until the water started to cool. Zen got out first to dry off and relight the hearth to make sure the main room was warm enough for you before coming back to help you out of the tub and dry off.

He tucked you into bed, pulling the covered over you both and then pulled you on top of his chest. His hands were warm on the bare skin of your back while he absentmindedly rubbed your back and occasionally nuzzled his jaw against the top of your head.

It was always just calm being with him. Zen was never in a hurry with anything, well except for earlier. Earlier when he could not keep his hands off of you. Earlier when he eagerly undressed you. When he pressed against you and grinded against you. How direct and needy he was.

You leaned up to kiss his neck and he happily tilted his head to the side to let you reach better. His pulse was strong just under his skin and soft against your lips. By the time you had reached to nip along his jaw he was softly moaning and his hands had traveled down from your back down to your hips so he could really pull you close.

“And what are you up to my lovely wife?” he asked and you could feel the vibrations from his purring.

You did not answer, but instead reached up to pull his hair, making him bare more of his throat to you.

“You are so pushy for such a little thing, I like it” he chuckled.

At this point you were straddling his chest with how far up you had scooted to reach him. The vibrations from his purring were going straight to your clit and only encourage you to grind against him. You had been so ready earlier, so wet and excited to feel his thick cock fill you now that you were ready. It had been so disappointing when you had to stop that afternoon, the first few inches had felt incredible before he got to be too much.

“Are we picking back up from earlier then?” he asked.

“I want you” was all you could manage.

He tilted your face up so you could see him and gave you such a smirk, “Good, because all I have been able to think about for the last few hours was you riding me until you scream my name and then claiming you properly.”

His words made your cunt clench around nothing, a fire lit in your belly at the thought of him claiming you.

“Get on your back” he panted in your ear, “I am going to make sure that you are ready for me this time.”

--------

Part 25

Tag list

@blushycadaver @hazyspacefairy @littlelovebug98 @tufflepuff23 @graveblanketgreen @lets-imagineastory @emonatural191 @lovingbadguys @after-laughter-come-tears @plathsotherib @krayziee @zaqnette @mochalyluv @nogoatsnoglori (doesn’t want to let me tag mocha or nogoats)

[loveinhawkins]

“Why are you wearing cologne?” Dustin asks after barely one second in the van.

“I’m not,” Eddie says, and promptly wants to die at how unconvincing that was. It’s not even technically a lie…

He makes it out of the school parking lot with Dustin saying jackshit, so for a little while, he thinks he’s gotten away with it.

More fool him.

Dustin abruptly lunges to the side, all up in his face like the world’s most dedicated sniffer dog.

“Ew, gross! Get off, man, I’m gonna crash,” Eddie says, even though they’ve been at a stop light for the past minute.

“Okay, correction,” Dustin says, drawing back. “Why are you wearing Steve’s cologne?”

Eddie stares into the middle distance, prays for The Upside Down to come and swallow him up.

An agonising silence.

“Oh my god,” Dustin whisper-screams. “Oh my god.”

“Look, just—”

“Oh my god!”

And yup, ow, that’s definitely become a full blown scream now, and double ow, Dustin has just socked him one in the arm.

“Hey!”

“What the fuck, Eddie?! How could you not—”

“Jesus! Take a damn chill pill, Henderson, I swear to—”

“Since when you do you say shit like—oh my God, Steve says shit like that. You can’t let him get to you like this, Eddie, you’re too young to die.”

“What does that even mean?”

Dustin keeps jiggling Eddie by the arm as he pulls up to Dustin’s house. Even when his stomach is jangling with nerves, he can’t fight a smile at the kid’s antics.

“Holy shit, this is big,” Dustin says with wide eyes, and it bothers Eddie that he can’t get a hold of what sort of expression is on his face. “This is huge.”

And all of a sudden, it doesn’t seem all that funny anymore.

“It’s not,” Eddie says quietly. “It’s really not. It doesn’t have to be, like… look, Dustin, can we just—if it bothers you, just drop it, and we can pretend like—”

“Wait, what? No.” And now Eddie can read the remorse on his face. “Shit, sorry. Eddie, I didn’t mean, like… big in a bad way, I swear.”

And goddamn it, Eddie trusts him. Of course he does.

“Okay.” He lets out a long sigh, tipping his head back in his seat. “Okay.”

“I just meant… like, you know The Royal Family? In England.”

…What.

“Oh, please, run with this analogy,” Eddie says, a mixture of curious and hysterical, “I’m dying to see where it goes.”

“You know, when they have news, they put it outside the… Palace? Like, on a stand. So people know.”

“Are you fucking implying that you are the public to our… wow, I’m so sorry, Henderson.” Eddie can’t take it anymore; he wheezes with laughter, can’t hide how relieved he sounds. “Next time I’ll ruin your front lawn and put a huge fucking sign there, then you’ll know that—”

“I didn’t mean it literally, asshole. I just…” Dustin shrugs. “Just meant if you wanted to, like… mention it. It would be cool. It is cool.”

“Cool,” Eddie echoes faintly.

“Cool,” Dustin repeats, emphatic.

Jesus Christ, I love you so much.

“Aw, Henderson,” Eddie says, “were you gonna make us a card or something?”

“Do you want a card?” Dustin says dryly.

And yeah, he’s being a little shit about it, but there’s also a note of sincerity hiding in there that has Eddie fighting a lump in his throat. He chuckles through it, flicks Dustin’s forehead.

“C’mon, get out before your mom thinks I’ve kidnapped you.”

“She thinks you’re an angel now, and you know it. It’s horrifying.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a Saint.”

Eddie waits until Dustin’s at his front door before reversing, watches him with silent fondness as he greets his cat.

He says through the side window, “Hey, Dustin?”

Dustin turns back. “Yeah?”

“We’d have told you first anyway. We were gonna, I swear.” Eddie scoffs. Smiles. “Not our fault you’re Sherlock Holmes, man.”

Dustin smirks, but his eyes are soft. “It was pretty elementary.”

[misserabella]

Filthy Rich

Spencer Reid x Fem! reader PT.1

pt2! pt3!

✧ Synopsis;; Spencer Reid was filthy rich, for he was royalty. Handsome, charming and a gentleman, a dream dressed in pure silk for any kind of woman. But not you.

✧ y/n is a mere slave of a nobel family who just turned 22. On the night of the prince’s royal ball she is dragged against her will to this dance just to be used as a coat rack for the purses and coats of the family ladies, who, of course, treat her like absolute sh’t, to the point where they could agreed to hand her over for a generous amount of gold.

“Just name your price, sweetheart.”

“Screw you, my prince.”

Just how lucky you were for had caught the

prince’ s attention!

< enemies to lovers 3

17th century royalty! inspired by bridgerton!

CW;; this series might include 18+ content (details will be given at the start of each new part uploaded) MINORS DNI AND SKIP!!!

WARNINGS PART ONE: mention of blood, abuse, cursing and slave trafficking.

Please, under no circumstances, repost my work on any other sites. I do not consent to anyone taking my work and posting it as their own.

WORD COUNT;; 2k!

Her faced seemed to tell everything: she hated it.

She hated everything. From the music, to the little stupid shoes that clacked against the floor. The floral scent, the wine, the giggles… She hated the ton*. Every single one of them,

Everything. It was a goddamn nightmare.

“y/n! You are letting my coat slip! Do i have to tell you how much it costs?! If you dare let it touch the floor I’ll take the money out of your poor allowance to pay for a new one!” one of the misses glared at you, hitting you in the face with her closed paper fan, its gemstones leaving marks on you cheek.

“We might as well do it anyways, since her filthy hands have touched them already!” her sister laughed, grabbing your face in between her gloved fingers and digging her nails in your skin. “Don’t you think so, y/n? What? Cat got you tongue?” they giggled.

“Children, children!” the woman of the house hushed them with a sweet smile. “You shall never touch her!” she said, taking of the gloves out of her daughters hands to give her a new pair, with a sweet smile telling one of the servants of the castle to burn them. “God knows what she might infect us with!” she laughed, her offsprings following her.

God, you hated her. Her and her stupid daughters. With their stupid dresses and stupid painted faces.

You glared at them, your grip tightening around their belongings, holding your stare and your head up even when the woman stared back at you, her face scrunching in disgust and anger.

“Who do you think you are staring at?!?!” she suddenly yelled, catching the attention of those who enjoyed drinks and company around her, not waiting a mere second to rise her hand and slap you to ‘show you your place’. You took the hits, the metallic flavor of blood filling your mouth due to the continues smacks and hits with the back of her fan. “You filthy ungrateful bitch, you dare stare at us, who give you food and a bed?! I should’ve let you died out in the cold, in the dirt, where you belong to!” you gritted your teeth, your eyes down to the floor as your free hand made its way to your bottom lip, where you felt the skin split, the crimson of fresh blood tinting your frail skin.

“Fucking fussock*.” you cursed her under your breath, loud enough for her to perfectly hear you.

“What did you say?!” her free hand gripped your long and matted locks, making you look into her enraged eyes, her other hand rising up to hit you once again.

Your eyes closed as you expected a new slap, which surprisingly enough never came. The sound of multiple gasps filled your ears and when you opened up your eyes once again, your stomach sank at the sight of…

“Your highness!” everyone suddenly diverted their eyes to the floor, including you, your mistress and her daughters bowed in his presence, the wrist of the first of them all gracefully and softly held by the prince’s, who let her go with a kind smile.

“Is everything alright?” his voice tested the waters, his tone low and soft as the silk he dressed in, his hands jeweled in golden rings joining and intertwining in an elegance you never had witnessed.

“Yes, your highness.” the woman stuttered, showing a nervous smile. “Our slave just seemed to…, misbehave, your highness.” your eyes travelled trough his tall and magnificent demeanor. His fern green suit matched perfectly with the caramel of his skin and his brown and perfectly combed curls.

Your eyes quickly darted always as he had caught you staring once he had turned to you. He fought the lopsided smirk that urged to grow in his lips, stepping closer to where you stood.

He took a glance at the ragged clothes that hid your bruised and malnourished body, probably due to the family’s treatment under your care, your matted hair, cut up hands…

His warm touch spread on your skin as he took your chin in between his thumb and index finger, softly trying to rise your head up, but you denied him, in a harsh turn of head freeing yourself from his touch before giving him a glare.

A new wave of gasps filed the air as you stared right into his eyes, him holding your glare.

You didn’t care if he was a noble or pure royalty. Those ‘pure blood’ were all the goddamn same. With their leather shoes and gold jewelry, fancy words and silk dresses and suits. Their appearance was only a pretty facade that hid the ugliness of their insides.

You hated all of them. Might as well just get your head off as soon as possible.

“You slave! How is it ye dare to stare at the prince, soon king?!” a brunette and tall man talked, you recognized him as the pince’s right hand, but only with a wave of this hand, he stood silent beside the prince.

“Huh…” the smile he had been trying to fight off finally took place on his gracefully sculpted face and full rosy lips. “Interesting.” once again he took a soft grasp to your face, this time not letting you go even if you fought him off. His eyes took everything your face offered him, from your perfect nose to you long eyelashes and your beautiful fierce eyes, which stared at him with pure hatred and anger. “How much?” he suddenly asked, still not drifting his eyes away from you.

The woman stood frozen in place, just like her daughters.

“What does your highness mean with…-”

“How much would you want for her?” he cut her off, the deadly silent that fell on the salon almost giving you chills.

What was he saying?

“Your highness, I can’t…” she was short of breath and words. “I surely doubt thee would want her under your care, she…”

“I don’t care about any of it. Name a price.” everyone was shocked by the situation. Buying and selling slaves was something quite common, that’s how your current ‘family’ have got you, but this…

The prince? Has he gone nuts?

“Your highness, I don’t think…” the prince’s counselor stepped in, shutting up once again as soon as he gave him a glance.

“50 gold coins.” the woman suddenly blurted out, everyone’s jaws dropping at the audacity of the woman and such large figure.

“Mother!” her offsprings whispered-yelled. Not believing her words.

50 gold coins?!

You scoffed, smirking at such nonsense, not noticing the staring of the prince due to your reaction.

She wished you were worth that much. He would never…

“Make it 150.” he closed the deal.

“Your highness!” the counselor exclaimed, completely alarmed.

“I don’t wanna hear it, Gideon.” he hushed the man with his soft hazel eyes.

You watched as the woman who once abused you and starved you for days fainted due to the prince’s words and his daughters kneeling down to help her followed by some of the nearby guests, fanning her pale sleeping face.

You too felt like fainting.

“Hey, eyes on me, sweetheart.” the prince caught your attention once again, when your eyes met a smile growing on his lips. “All you need to do from now on keep your eyes on me.”

“Get off of me!” you screamed at the servants that tried and strip you out of your clothes, pushing their hands away. “I said stop!”

“Miss, they’re orders from your highness.” one of them spoke, her blue eyes soft on you. “He wanted us to help you bathe and and get rid of your dirty clothes.” she explained.

“I don’t care about what he said.” you scoffed. “If he wanted me undressed so fast why isn’t he the one taking my clothes off?” they all gasped at your words and no respect to the prince.

You didn’t care though, they were all the same anyways. Always reaks* that just wanted to have women swoon at their feet. Maybe that’s why he had bought you, just to use you when his cock got cold.

Suddenly, the door on your back opened, the heads of the servants quickly lowering as your eyes met the prince’s.

“Oh, fantastic…” you muttered. Just what you needed at the moment.

“You heard her, ladies. You are all dismissed.” he smiled at every and each one of them, bowing and moving aside with a swing of his arm on the door to let them out, all of them bowing and giggling.

And weren’t you just right?

“Great. And what do I have the honor of your highness’ presence for?” you sarcastically inquired him once he had closed the door behind his back, noticing…, ‘Gideon’ outside. “Got too excited due your new acquisition to just wait?” you mocked him.

“I heard you were putting up a fight.” he smiled, ignoring your words whilst looking at you up and down. “Is there something not to your liking, perhaps?”

“‘Not to my liking’?” you scoffed. “I can’t believe you.” you shook your head, grasping at your locks as you stared at him in disbelief. “How about this whole goddamn situation? I mean, look at this!” you pointed out everything that surrounded you, the whole bathroom with a gigantic bathtub of quartz, marble floors and pillars… “A few hours ago I was being used as a coat hanger in your ball and now I’m in a bathroom with the prince, who, surprisingly enough, bought me for 150 golden coins god knows why?!” you exclaimed.

He stared at you with a funny look in his eyes. His back against the door as his eyebrows raised at you.

“What.” you spit out, a glare in your eyes.

“Nothing, is just that…” he stepped closer to you, his arms crossed over his chest. “You don’t seem to…, respect me.” he frowned, his voice low. “Not like all of them.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, your highness, for not being another dog licking your leather boots.” you bowed, more of his steps growing closer to you until his thumb took your chin, rising your head up so you could meet his eyes, his face stood serious for a couple of seconds, before a downside smirk grew on his factions. “Why haven’t you cut my head off yet?” you inquired him, not really understanding his behavior. By the way you treated him, any other prince would have already gotten you to the guillotine.

“Why shall I?” he answered with another question, his thumb caressing the wound on your bottom lip, the still fresh blood that stood on it staining his thumb as you hissed in pain, getting away.

You stared at him in confusion.

Yeah. He was absolutely nuts.

“The water will go cold if you don’t get in soon.” he said, drifting off the matter while whipping off your blood from his thumb with his handkerchief. “Are you sure you don’t want to get off those ragged clothes?”

“This is the only dress I’ve had, sir.” you said, his eyes meeting yours.

“What’s your favorite color?” you frowned at his sudden question, which made absolutely no sense. He made no sense. “Crimson, like the purest blood? The forest’s green? The ocean’s blue, perhaps?”

“I’ve never seen the forest nor the ocean, sir. I’ve never left the capital. Though I find the sky’s blue on spring pretty wonderful, not sure it does justice to the ocean’s.”

“It doesn’t.” he said, sitting in the edge of the bathtub, his fingers taunting the warm water. “The ocean is cold, and fierce…, untamable. But it can also be warm, and calm, and soft.” he tried to explain, and from your point of view it didn’t make sense.

It didn’t make sense but you found it…

“It must be beautiful.” you said, him flashing you a soft smile before nodding.

“It is.” he got up clapping his hands together before looking back at you. “Well then, you should really hurry up, the water is perfect.”

“I already told thee, this dress is the only-“

“You won’t need it anymore.” he cut you off.

“And why is that?” you inquired, his steps growing closer to you.

“Because from now on…” he said, catching one of your locks in between his fingers. “You belong in this castle.”

To be continued…

*fussock; a lazy fat woman…, a frowzy old woman.

*the ton; the ton actually refers to English high society during the Regency era, and encompasses every aristocrat from the royals to the gentry.

*rake; ‘rake’ is used to describe an immoral, hedonistic young man circulating in high society.

[madamechrissy]

♔ Silent Serenades ♔

♔ An arranged Marriage with Duke Gojo ♔

♔ Pairings: Duke Satoru Gojo x Duchess Reader

♔ Content/Warnings: Explicit sexual content, dirty talk, breeding kink, spitting, Satoru calls reader 'slut during sex, some nipple biting, cum play, mostly cute and fluffy (believe it or NOT) Oral (f recieving) mentions of jealousy and past angst

♔ Word count: this chap: 11.2k

♔ 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

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

Part Thirteen ♔ Masterlist ♔ Playlist

Part Fourteen - The King's Ball

“Fuck this.” Satoru grumbles, you’re arm in arm with him as you both are descending the grand steps down into the opulent ballroom. You giggle a bit behind your white silk glove, he smirks at you.

“Fuck this indeed.” You agree softly, he leans down then, lips just a breath from yours.

“I love that dirty mouth of yours.”

“Mmm, do you now?” Your eyes meet.

“Should I show you how much?” He whispers, and for a moment it’s as if everything in the grand room fades but him.

It’s just you and your Duke, cussing about the party ahead of you, his gaze and words making you flush under the glimmering chandeliers above, highlighting the silver glint of your dress, and the bright white suit Satoru wears tonight. He takes one of your gloved hands, pressing a kiss to the back of it, you exhale when his lips are hovering just above yours.

“You’d kiss me on the lips, in front of all these people?” You tease, he chuckles then, cupping your face.

“I’d do a lot more than that, bury my face under your skirts. Ah, look at you, thoughts driving you to blush?” You take a breath and look around, seeing hundreds of eyes on both of you.

“They’re talking about us, Toru.” He peeks and waves a hand dismissively, setting to walk with you again.

“Saying how beautiful you are.”

“How handsome you are.”

“We’ve gotten sappy, haven’t we?” You grin.

“Positively smushy.” Now Satoru grins.

“Smushy!? Is that a word?”

“It is indeed! Oh Satoru I just want to keep this happiness, not…” You trail off as you both start to greet people now, and you see her, Adelia.

Many people look back and forth from you to her, and now you know a lot more, more than you ever wished to. Satoru feels you tense next to him, a calming hand on the small of your back, fingers brushing up and down. He’s disgusted seeing her, how one person can look like you but be fucking horrible is still unknown to him, but now you have figured it out.

Adelia is your cousin, thank god she’s not a sister, Satoru had a panic attack when you had done some digging. She is your mother’s little sister’s child, one that they had sent off to Scotland, and no one heard of again essentially. Adelia making her own way here is through her own feats, it seemed she did not even come to England until she was an adult.

So you are… related.

You had a feeling of course, it was too uncanny not to, but hearing it from your staff, a staff that basically raised you, cinched it all in. Of course they had been sworn to secrecy, but they had no problem telling you once you explained your situation. It is better than what you thought, what if she was a sister, you felt sick just thinking of that, this was quite tangled enough.

“I still can’t believe it all.” Satoru says, shaking his head. “Oh if I just met you first, you know it would have saved many, many problems.”

“I was rather young then, hmm? How long ago was it?”

“It was a good six years ago when I met her. I suppose you are a little younger than me, am I an old lecher to you!?” He teases, acting affronted.

“Shut it, you're twenty seven, you’re not much older. You still look like a college boy in leading strings.”

“Take that back, insolent little brat.”

“Make me.” You stick your tongue out at him, making his blue eyes glitter, when he looks over your shoulder now and pauses, scowling, his entire mood shifts then as you feel a gaze burning your back. “On no, what is it?”

You look behind you then, to see the King headed straight towards you, him and Adelia challenging the fresh new bliss Satoru and you have is brutal to handle. Every time you think that Satoru and you are so happy finally, there is Nanami in the street seeing you both, there’s one of Satoru’s exes, but now it’s a King, who oddly has his sights on you.

And your…. cousin… ugh.

“Look at you.” King Sukuna’s husky voice says your name softly over the music floating around you all, a cacophony of whispers, giggles, music and heels on the floor. And not only that, but he says your first name, making Satoru positively seethe behind you.

“Your Majesty.” You greet cooly.

“Aren’t you the prettiest thing here.” He murmurs, eyes raking and taking far too many liberties. He then takes your gloved hand and kisses it.

“Certainly not, your Majesty. But thank you.” You politely curtsey, people onlook with little smiles, at the diamond of the season and the King with his attentions on her, you hear their whispers and feel their gazes.

Even married women could not necessarily turn a King down, it was notoriously known, many Kings could have whomever they wanted, and the men had to handle it, even a powerful man such as Duke Gojo. However, you still cannot fathom why he wants to go so far, he is certainly attractive, and a King.

What is he playing at?

“May I have the honor of a dance, Duchess?” He murmurs, eyes glinting a crimson as he smirks on his tanned face, wearing an opulent velvet brocade tonight, he certainly was swooned over.

You look at Satoru, there’s nothing you both can do outwardly, he gives you a little nod, hands clenched into fists at his sides, as he watches the King of England take his wife onto the dance floor. He snatches up two glasses of champagne from a butler walking, downing them in two gulps, looking at his surprised face, his mouth dropped open to Satoru’s amusement.

“Fuck something stronger, please. I know the King has to have some good whiskey” Satoru then hands him several notes, and the butler nods eagerly.

“Right away, your Grace!” He runs off, and soon Satoru is given a glass of whiskey, he sighs, sipping it and watching you over the crystal glass.

“Keep em coming.” The butler bobs his head eagerly.

Satoru is watching you twirl in King Sukuna’s arms, Sukuna’s big hand taking over your little back, pressing you far too close, his other hand encapsulating yours, he’s grinning lewdly down at you, you’re maintaining a smile for appearances. Satoru can tell, it’s not a true smile, something he sees so much more these days, something that captures his heart and soul.

Seeing you smile so sleepy at him in the morning, when you’re in his arms. It’s the sweetest thing in the world, your little giggles when he kisses on your neck, your sassy grin when you find some new ticklish spot of his, and torture him then with your discovery. You are so very beautiful when you truly smile, how it brightens the entire room.

This is that ‘perfect Duchess smile’ of yours.

Satoru falls deeper every fucking day for you, so deep it aches, gnawing at his stomach at the thought of ever losing you, he feels he does not even deserve you, and that at any point you’ll come to your senses. He has just started to get comfortable with the thought that you chose him, when the King and Adelia have come to fuck with both of you.

“Speak of the witch.” He grumbles, when she steps up to him, hand on his shoulder, he shrugs it off.

“Care for a dance, your Grace?” She rolls the words off her tongue, shifting her hips from side to side and batting her lashes.

Satoru scoffs. “Oh, fuck no.”

She glares up at him, it’s nothing like your glare, that feisty little way you set your chin, purse your lips, how your pretty eyes narrow and you decimate him the way only you can. No, this is just her… being Adelia, being the woman who destroyed him, made him so afraid to be vulnerable with you, so sure you’d rip his heart out, especially once he started feeling so much.

He knew it that night of the masquerade, seeing you with your baker… or as his still sore ribs remind him… boxer boyfriend you had. Seeing him touch you, it had awakened something insane in him that night, when he’d been with you in the hallway, when he’d pressed against you, held you and fucking cried, and you had cried right with him, hadn’t you?

You both knew then, that there was something there with you both, something he was destroying completely before it could even begin, and pushing you to help him destroy it. When he’d begged to taste you again, fuck he was pathetic for you, but you’d let him. Though when he’d truly drunk you up in that carriage, after that night at your parents?

You ended him.

He’s so enamored with you dancing, with aching to punch a damn King in the face, he can blissfully ignore this pest of a woman next to him. Satoru sees him dip you over his arm, watches the hair you have coiled in those pretty little ringlets fall over his arm, he swoops you low and then picks you back up in his arms, spinning you slowly to the awws of the room.

Satoru wants to rip his fucking hands off.

“You’re still here?” Satoru finally acknowledges the annoying pest next to him, she pouts up at him, batting long lashes.

“You do know he can have her if he wants?”

“What do you care? And she doesn’t want to.”

“You’ve always been foolish, Satoru. But you know, sometimes I think to myself, I should have only been with you.” Satoru glares down at her now, raising a thing white brow, looking at the spitting image of you trying to fuck with him.

“Shouldn’t have fucked my dad, or all the other men?” She has enough grace to look down for a moment, before stepping closer.

“I’ll explain more if we were to have a moment alone, about your father, about everything.”

“I have no desire to be near you. Go find some dick to hop on, you were quite good at that I suppose. She is much better though.”

“You’re petty and lying, as if her prissy ass is some wild thing in the bedroom, can she even handle how freaky you are?”

Satoru snorts. “I’m exceedingly pleased with her. You’re mad you did not get any of that wealth from your mother, a noble, aren’t you?” She gasps, and he chuckles. “Yes we know, you’re her cousin.”

“How on-”

“Will you go?” Satoru watches as the dance ends, and the King is leading you away from the crowd, his eyes narrow as you look back over your shoulders at them both.

“Oh look, a private moment with the King. And… well Satoru, he is quite skilled in the bed, not as eager as you though, something to be said for that.” Satoru grips her wrist now, as she has a hand on his arm, she gasps just a bit.

“I assure you I’m no virgin any longer, as you enjoyed bragging to my wife, as if she cares.”

“Odd one cousin took your virginity, and you took hers.” Satoru tenses then, and Adelia laughs, a nasty little laugh. “Oh you didn’t! Oh poor Satoru, you’re just not her first pick are you?”

“You have no idea of what you fucking speak of.” Satoru lets her wrist go, wondering where you are, he starts walking through the crowds of people, wishing he could shove everyone out of his way and not have to make stupid polite fucking conversation.

He trusts you, he does, but he doesn’t trust that King, you’re still young and sweet, and he does not want him manipulating you, pressuring you. Adelia trails behind him, he contemplates knocking her out, he’s not above it truly, but he holds himself in, walking by the crowned jewel room, seeing Sukuna behind you, his hands on your waist.

Adelia yanks him into the next room, shutting the door, and he finally snaps, grabbing her shoulders and shaking her. “What the fuck is your end game here? How do you get a King to go along with it?”

“I love this rough side of you, Satoru.” She cooes, fingers trailing down his chest, he smacks them off, backing away, fury rising in his chest.

“I swear to god if you touch me once more, I am not yours to touch, or to manipulate anymore.” She shakes her head at him, sighing and slipping down her sleeves, then more, he stops her. “I have no interest in you.”

“None at all? Seems like you needed my copy to be satisfied.”

“She is everything you could never be.”

“And what is she doing in that room, Satoru, is he touching her?” She whispers, taking his hand as she slips her bodice so low her breasts are revealed, her nipples taut, he looks away at the ceiling, rage making him sick. “What would you do, if he fucked her, hmm?”

“I’d be fucking sick and furious, but I sure won’t be doing a goddamn thing with you, nor any woman.” He yanks his hand back, turning away. “Cover yourself up, stop embarrassing yourself, dear god.”

“Would you let her have her way with anyone?”

“She will not.”

“So explain the virginity?”

“As if it’s your business. Dear god you make a man want to slap you across a room, I hope you know I’m no gentleman.” He turns back, thankfully she’s covered up, her arms crossed. “Give it, what is your game?”

“Ever think I want you back, Satoru? Ever think that I regret everything?” She blinks back tears, he rolls his eyes, they’re unmoving and unbelievable.

“What do you suddenly wish to be my wife? You can never be, fuck you had your stupid chance then, I would have moved mountains for you.” The pain sets in, the torture she put him through. He’s just finally starting to feel like him again, like Satoru Gojo, after years and goddamn years of being a whore, a cruel man.

“Perhaps a mistress, anything to have you back Satoru.” He shoves her off him again, as she steps closer, putting her hands on his chest, looking at him with eyes that he thought he loved, but he feels nothing but contempt. “I miss you, truly miss you, miss everything you did to me, how I felt.”

She’s brushing her fingers across his cheek, making his skin crawl. “I’ll never have a mistress, and I’ll never leave her.”

“For what, what is so special about her? I expected you to jump on this, do you know how in love with me you were? I’ve never felt it since, and I never will again.” She’s crying now, and he cares not, he just wants to get you before Sukuna has hands on you, he does not know his motivations still.

“You will not feel love because you’re a horrible person. And guess what, Adelia?”

“Wh-what?”

“You made me just like you.” He whispers, hands in his pockets, bending down so that they are just an inch apart. “I was a horrible man, I was fucking women right in front of her, I was shit to her. Fuck I was perhaps worse than you, took all my anger out from being with you on her. She shouldn’t even talk to me, yet she chose me, and you nor anyone will ever make me fuck up again.”

She blinks a bit, taking a breath, looking away then. “Satoru I am sorry for what I did, your father promised me a place in society, it was something even you could not offer truly.”

Satoru laughs without humor. “Expect me to feel sorry for you?”

She gasps. “I was from no wealth like you, like your Duchess, despite being from nobility. I had nothing, I earned my place.”

“By sleeping with men? You did not earn a goddamn thing. She earns her place when she is by my side, helping villages, when she listens to me, when she was honest with me, when she gave me a chance I did not deserve. You have not earned anything you have, including whatever you’re doing with the King. You’re nothing Adelia, worse than nothing actually.”

She smacks him hard across the cheek then, the sound echoes in the room, Satoru does not flinch. “You’ve become so cruel, where is the sweet Satoru that I once knew!?”

Meanwhile

“This is the crown and scepter, go on, touch it.” Sukuna says, hard body behind yours, taking one of your hands and putting it on the shimmering gold crown, you hesitate, hating the nearness, hating that sad look you saw on Satoru’s face, making you worry for him and what Adelia would say.

Would she get to him again? Would he be able to stand firm and ignore the lies she spins? Those are your true worries, not if Satoru would stray, in your heart you know he would not, in your heart you know you are his, and he is yours. But you do know the effect and change she had on him in such a short time, and worry her poison will seep into his brain.

“These look heavy, your Majesty.” You manage to say, some small talk to perhaps ease the tension.

“Sukuna.” His voice is deep, his hands slipping against you.

“Your Majesty.” You turn and look up at him, he’s grinning looking wicked, fingers brushing up and down your bare arm. “You are too bold, even for a King.”

“I simply do not mince words, write stupid fucking poems, I say what I want, and I get everything I want.”

“Not me.”

“No?” You shake your head.

“I mean no disrespect, but my heart is spoken for.” He hums quietly, hands trailing up to your shoulders, the backs of his fingers against your collarbone, watching goosebumps rise at the contact.

“Your body is spoken for as well?” He asks huskily, eyeing your decolletage hungrily, your fists clench, breasts rising and falling as you struggle to maintain your composure.

“My body is indeed spoken for, your Majesty.” He smirks just a bit, another hand pressing against your waist, pulling you gently to him.

“Have a night with me, let me show you things your pretty boy Duke could never, I see it in you, the desire to be filled everywhere, hmm? Desire to have your pretty neck choked, have these bitten and bruised.” He dares to brush his fingers against your breasts. “Oh if you were mine you’d have so many marks you wouldn’t wear this, so sore you wouldn’t walk.”

He leans so close, his lips a breath from yours, you pull your head back, jaw setting. “Your Majesty, I’m afraid I have marks all over, just not where you can see. And the ones you could? I cover up.” You say with a pretty smile, he chuckles, tilting your chin up to look into his eyes.

“I see I read you well then, that fire in your eyes, bet you’re fucking insatiable.” You resist the urge to roll your eyes, his thumb brushes over your lower lip, making you want to recoil.

“I am indeed with my husband. Sukuna, can I be frank with you?”

“Ah, you say my name?”

“Listen, I get it, you’re handsome, you get what you want, you’re a King… hard to resist.”

He grins. “You think I’m handsome, huh?” He has a self satisfied smirk you try to not roll your eyes at.

“Oh god. Yes, of course you are, thus, you can have anyone you wish, including my cousin.”

“Ah, figured that out?”

“I did. And I know this is some game between you both, what has she done to make you try this hard at me? What agreement do you have?” You cross your arms, stepping back, and Sukuna laughs then, throwing his head back, booming laughter reigning in the empty room.

“She simply expressed wanting to try with your Duke again, I figured fuck it, some amusement because god the life of a King is so boring now. Oh to be a king in the war of the roses, or something better than this. Stupid balls and operas, and idle fucking gossip. I found the idea entertaining, so I brought her.”

You blink in confusion, it’s all for fun!? “So why me? Am I just some distraction so she can get Satoru?”

“No, actually. This is where you’re confused, Duchess.” He grabs you by your waist now, pulling you against him. “I am not trying to have you for some game with her, I saw you and just fucking wanted you. Badly, too.”

“Not for a game? I do not believe you.”

He shakes his head, gaze dropping you your lips, your hands go to his chest, pressing for him to back away, but he does not budge. “Do you really not know the effect you have? Did he do that much damage?”

You blink back tears then, looking away, Sukuna takes the opportunity to kiss down the side of your neck, hot messy kisses, you’re pushing at him but the man is made of brick it seems, casually holding you too close. His lips go up to your ear, hot breath tickling it, making you shiver.

“I heard the rumors, I must wonder how or why he wouldn’t want you, even if you look like her. Did he make you think so little of yourself?” You hate it, the memories he is stirring, the feelings he’s making you feel, when he takes your face so possessive in his big hand, while the other presses into your lower back.

“It is none of your business, Sukuna. None. What me and my husband went through is our business.” You hear your voice breaking, feeling such anger at how he can so easily bring those memories back.

Sukuna clicks his tongue, thumb brushing over your fluttering pulse, you can feel your chest tightening under the stress of it, of being against him, when all you want is Satoru, all you need is Satoru. You do not want to think of how cruel he was at the beginning, because those memories take you to a dark, dark place, one you never wish to visit again.

“I could make you feel so good, like you deserve. It’s not just your gorgeous little body or pretty face…” His hands trail lewdly down your curves, thumb brushing over your nipple, your hands clenched into fists, breath coming quicker. “It’s your fire, burning so hot, fuck I’d love to feel it.”

“Watch that you do not get burned by it.” You whisper in response, he smirks, so cocky and arrogant, you itch to smack him.

“I’d get burned if it meant a moment with you, and no I do not do this, and I do not do it as a game. Do you not wish to feel like a Queen?” He murmurs, you shake your head. “Oh no? Well, do you think he’ll resist her charms, stay so loyal?”

“If he does not I… I cannot think of that.” He’s playing you, making you think of things you want to shove down, you refuse to do so, shaking your head more firmly now. “I will not think of it.”

“Ah, so let me show you what you’re missing, then Duchess, so you know what you turn down.” He slams his lips against yours, you shove at him again, but he drags you against him, mouth hot and open, tongue trying to get past your sealed lips, pressing deeper until he’s reached his goal, moaning.

Sukuna’s kiss is brutal, passionate and fervent, his hands gripping your ass, dragging you against him. You take a breath, turning your head, for him to turn it back, eyes glinting in the dark, brows raised, his lips parted. You try to step back, but he’s kissing you again, hands sliding up your skirts, up your thighs, and you bite his lower lip then, shoving him.

He chuckles, looking at how hard you bit, lip bleeding just a drop, which he licks. “You are fiery, fuck do you not know what I’d do with you?” He cups your face again, you glare up at him, fucking furious.

“You won’t ever have me. Guess what, even a King does not get whatever he wants, hmm?” You say now, shoving at the brick wall of a man again, he shakes his head with a smirk.

“I can tell you’re excited, I can feel it, see it written all over you.”

“I am furious, is what I am. You will not touch me again.”

“Oh?” He brushes your hair back, and you do it then, you haul off and smack the king of fucking england right in his arrogant face.

Shit.

Meanwhile.

“You changed me with your games.” Satoru retorts to Adelia, just moments before. “Now go fuck off to France, or anywhere, as long as I don’t have to see you again.” Satoru hears a smack echo in the next room, smirking and wondering if his wife just hit the King of England. “That’s my girl.”

“Your girl!?”

Satoru strides past her, as you stride out on the King that you just slapped, and both of you see each other then, in the hall. His cheek reddened from Adelia, your hand stinging from smacking Sukuna, and you damn near burst into tears as you both look at each other. He’s breathing heavily, you’re breathing in short little pants, striding to each other then.

Satoru picks you up in his arms, hugging you so tightly, putting you down and cupping your face, studying you carefully, you feel so good in his arms. “Are you all right, baby?”

You nod quickly. “I may have smacked the King.”

He grins, melting you, but you see it too, the glimmer in his baby blues. “I heard, fuck that turned me on.”

You giggle, insanely, as King Sukuna and bitch A0delia watch you both. “You’re fucking insane, you know that?”

“You fucking love how insane I am, hmm?” You nod, and he’s looking at Sukuna now behind you, before seeing your lips, slightly swollen and reddened, then you see Adelia, her bodice slightly askew, sleeve completely down.

“Did she try to…”

“Did he kiss you!?”

You both nod at your simultaneous questions, then Satoru glares at King Sukuna, and you glare at Adelia, then you both look back at each other in a silent agreement, before you step over to Adelia, who surprisingly has dried tears on her cheeks as she looks at you. You cross your arms, shaking your head as you near her, and as Satoru nears the King.

“Leave him out of your games, he doesn't want you anymore.” Your words just anger her, she steps up to you, shoving at you, you laugh then, back-handing her right in the face as if on instinct.

“You bitch!”

Sukuna and Satoru grin at you, before Satoru scowls at him, and Adelia cups her face in shock. “Do not touch my husband again, is it clear, cousin?”

“You two psychos deserve each other.” She grumbles then, as Satoru shoves the King against a wall, hands on either side of him, Sukuna just smirks.

“Going to hit a King, pretty boy?”

“Pretty boy here would love to break every one of your fingers, one by one for touching her. You do not come near her again, I don’t care who you are. She is my wife. Mine.” Sukuna sighs, patting Satoru on the shoulder then, surprising all three of you in the empty hall.

“A hell of a wife you have. Don’t fuck that one up, because I think she kind of likes me.” You snort, shaking your head as Satoru steps back, glaring.

“I gave you no such impression.” He walks to you then, tilting up your chin and sighing.

“What a shame. These lips… ah well.” He saunters off, with Adelia shouting at him, waving her arms around.

“Her lips are better than mine!? Excuse me!” You and Satoru snort and shake your heads, he comes to hold you from behind, pressing you against him, kissing your cheek. You lean back against him.

“You think they are done?” You ask softly, he exhales, pulling you even closer, before turning you to him, walking forward until you’re pressed against the wall, hands pressing against your waist, hands you crave, hands you love.

“They better be. I’ll kiss every fucking memory of him out of your head.” You whine out softly, and Satoru kisses you boldly, right against that wall, cupping your face, kissing you over and over and over.

You get dizzy from it, from his nipping at your lips, from his tongue delving in your mouth, drinking your soft cries, your body reacts quickly, you feel that heat pool in your tummy, spreading between your thighs. Your own hands slide up to wrap around his neck, fingers interlocking as you tiptoe.

“I love you so much.” He whispers, desperately, you gulp, nodding quickly, uncaring if anyone saw you both.

You’re married, let them see.

“I love you, Satoru. Are you all right? Was she…”

“She means nothing. No one means fucking anything but you.” You’re melting now, as he’s shaking while he holds you, hand enwrapping in the back of your hair at the nape of your neck.

You drown in him, as your breaths mingle, as his forehead rests on yours, your eyes shut as you feel him, as the love hums through you, your entire being. “Satoru, I need you.” You whisper.

“I need you.” He hums softly. “I need out of this damned palace.”

“Let us leave.” Satoru and you rush through the ball, you’re both breathless by the time you await outside for your carriage, in the dark, chilly night you shiver just a bit, Satoru pulls you against him, warming you. “I’ll never let someone touch you.”

“I don’t want anyone to. I totally smacked him hard.”

“And you backhanded her.” You both laugh, you’re certainly both insane, aren’t you? But none of that matters, not when you have this, when you know you both can get through it all.

“My hand hurts.” He takes off your gloves then, kissing the back of your hands gently, smirking as he runs a thumb over the back of your knuckles.

“I bet it does. Tell me this wasn’t learned from the baker.”

“No! Self taught.” He snorts, and soon you’re both nestled against the carriage, and you’re pulled onto his lap, moaning as your lips meet again and again, he pulls back for a breath, as do you. “I’m so glad she did not get to you.”

“She tried her best. And you?” He asks, fingertips brushing up the line of your jaw delicately.

“He tried his best as well. Apparently, he was not part of her scheme truly? He just desired me and also wanted amusement.”

“Of course he desires you. Who doesn’t? Have to fight off a King, my best friend and a goddamn baker.” You giggle, shaking your head at him, smacking kisses along his flushed cheeks.

“Not your friend truly!”

“Mmm, debatable. Everyone wants you, but I have you.”

“Everyone wants you, Satoru. And yet I have you.”

He cups your face. “All I even fucking see is you.”

“Satoru…” You’re kissing him again, desperately, he kisses you senseless, you feel it, the desire spreading even more, wanting to be claimed by him, as he desires to mark you his.

“You’re all mine, Princess, hmm?” Satoru murmurs, slipping up your skirts, fingers darting across your garters delicately, you cry out softly, head falling back, hair falling as he starts pressing his lips against your throat.

“All yours- mmm!” Your hands enwrap in his silky hair as the carriage gently rocks you both, you feel his hard length pressing against your heat. His tongue trailing a line up a vein he sees on your throat, all the way up to your ear, his breath tickling you as you roll your hips.

His hands press into your hips, thumbs against your pelvis, pulling you even harder on him, you feel your cunt soaking his trousers, bare under your skirts, he feels himself stiffening painfully, straining against them. His tongue darts to trace your earlobe, he makes that little whimper sound as you roll on him, feeling your cunt soaking through.

“No one can ever have you, no one can take you from me.” Duke Gojo’s words are husky, desperate, one finger finding your clit and rolling in circles, your eyelashes flutter as your hips arch, his other hand cups your face. “No one.”

You’re looking at his glittering blue eyes in the dark carriage, hands slipping across his broad shoulders over his tail coat, staring into eyes you love, you adore. “No one can ever have me. It’s only you, Satoru.”

He moans now, slamming his lips on yours, the kiss is desperate and messy, much like the two of you together. You’re not perfect, far from it, you’re both a mess, you’re both as insane as this desire that pulls you, that irrevocably ties you together, as insane as the hungry kiss is. Your tongues are dripping saliva, your lips are bruising, your hands are everywhere.

You can never get enough of him.

He can never get enough of you.

“That’s it, Princess, cum for me.” He orders softly, in that husky fucking voice, and he drinks your cries when you start gushing where he’s flicking your clit faster and faster, shaking your head. He scowls. “You disobey me, hmm brat?”

“Wanna cum with you in me.” You murmur, he groans then, hastily pulling back, you eagerly help him undo his belt, unbutton his trousers, his cock springing free, you press your thumb against the slit that’s oozing pretty pearls of precum. “You’re so pretty Satoru.”

“You’re pretty, Duchess. Especially riding my cock.” He slides his tip against you while you brace yourself on his shoulders, he watches your brows go together, your mouth open in a little O, watches your eyes dilate. “Fuck you’re so pretty when you’re cock thirsty.”

“Cock thirsty!? You… know… I… please!” He smirks now, the little shithead you’re more used to, but there is something so different now.

You both are so in love you cannot see or think of anything but being together, and fuck if tonight hadn’t made you both crave it more. You, craving him to fill you up, and him, craving to pump himself in you, to leave you so full of him there’s nothing but him. But there is nothing but Satoru to you, his eyes hungrily watching you, while he’s pecking kisses on your breasts.

You’re sinking down on him, the stretch burning so delicious, the carriage jostles you just a bit, and you sink further than you intended, earning your gasp and his groan, he bites at your breasts, hands sinking you fully now. You don’t ever take this much so quickly, your velvety walls are spasming around his cock as you try to loosen up, he can’t take how tight you are.

“Can’t hold back, Princess, you feel too good.” He murmurs, apologetically, you just roll your hips, eating up those snowy lashes fluttering.

“Then don’t hold back, Duke.” He moans at that, lifting your hips and pounding up into your cunt now, you’re crying out so loud in the dark night, while you all head home slowly over cobblestone streets, and he’s pumping you so full. “Toru!”

“Pussy is fuckin made for me, hmm?” He’s mumbling, nonsensical, fucking up into you so hard, you’re trembling as you take him, feeling his tip bruise your cervix, and you’re close, so close.

You just nod weakly as he watches you, his eyes dark and hungry, as he guides your hips to move in time with his thrusts. The slap of skin on skin echoes in the enclosed space, mixed with your soft cries and his deep moans. One of Satoru’s hands moves to your neck, his thumb resting gently on your pulse point, feeling the rapid beat as he squeezes gently.

“Look at me when you cum for me, Duchess. I want to see those beautiful eyes roll back in pleasure, just for me.” His voice is a low growl, a quiet demand, you struggle to focus, feeling the pressure coil in your tummy.

You lock eyes with him, feeling the connection between you grow stronger with each passing second, the passion and the love that abounds and grows every day, somehow even the dirtiest words that spill from his mouth are sweet. Pretty little slut is sweet to your ears, the squishing of your wetness on his cock is beautiful especially when your husband looks at you like this.

Your orgasm crashes over you like a wave then, spreading all over your body, your cries echoing loudly while one of his hands squeezes your throat, watching you fall apart all over him. Your walls are convulsing around his cock, you’re barely able to hold yourself up anymore.

“Mine, mine, mine.” He grunts with every thrust, releasing your throat now, you nod quickly, gasping for a greedy breath.

“Y-yours.” You whisper, he needs it, and you need this, after everything to know who you belong to, and who he belongs to.

The grip on your hips tightening, his beautiful eyes never leaving yours, when you feel him thickening, hear the catch in his breath, the crease between his brows, you know he’s close. You press his back against the velvet carriage seat, taking a breath and rocking up and down his length again, he lets you take control, watching you hungrily.

“God, fucking look at you.” You feel your cheeks heat up at his praise, as his hands press against your stays, the fabric marking your skin, as he watches you with a lidded gaze.

“W-want you to cum for me, Toru. Please.” Your plea earns his lips slamming on yours, and he pins you down fully on his entire length, groaning into your mouth as he finds his release.

His hot spurts of cum fill you, and his throbbing cock edges you again, you’re falling with him, hopelessly into him in the little carriage, arms wrapping around your waist as he keeps pumping his cum deeper. You feel tears falling on your cheeks, legs shaking as you ride him slower and slower, as he fucks you both through the aftershocks and you’re both trembling messes.

“How are you so sexy? What you do to me?” He murmurs now, you giggle a bit, breathless, he eases out of your sore cunt, your cum and his dripping out of your little hole and onto him.

“What you do to me. Having me act so wanton and scandalous.” You tease, he chuckles a bit, sighing and cupping your face with two hands.

“Do you know what I wish, Duchess?”

“What is it, Satoru?” You both adjust yourselves somewhat, he turns you so you are sideways in his lap, pressing kisses all over your face.

“That we could redo our wedding. That I could… fix it.” You hear the emotions in his throat, you sigh, nodding then. “That you didn’t hate that night, that you weren’t crying on the fucking floor.”

“Satoru we are so far past it-”

“It does not matter, I will hate myself for it forever.”

You take his hand, pressing a kiss on the back of his knuckles, feeling emotions capture your heart. “We need not think on it, I do not hold any resentment any longer in my heart.”

“I want to do it over. I want a true wedding, I want a honeymoon… I want so much more for you than I gave.” You feel his heart racing under your palm as it rests on his chest over his dress shirt. You watch the man you adore have to handle what he has done, and all you can do is try to reassure him you do not hold anything against him, but he has to live with it.

“Do not endlessly punish yourself, I want us to be happy.” He exhales, shaking his head, hand stroking your back gently.

“This will help me, please agree to it.”

“Agree to what exactly, Satoru? What do you need?”

“I want to marry you because we want to, not because we were forced to, even though lord knows I couldn’t be happier I am with you. I want it for us, and us only. I want to carry you over that threshold, in my fucking arms. I want to make love to you on our wedding night, and have you fall asleep in my bed, and wake you up licking and kissing every inch.” His voice gets more hoarse with every word, and your heart is racing, your chest rising and falling with each breath.

“Satoru…”

“No, Princess, I need this. I need you to feel desired and loved like you were supposed to, like I should have.” He swipes tears that fall down your cheeks, you feel like you’re spinning, like you’re dizzy, like you’re in a dream.

“We have it now, I feel your love now. I feel it burning for me, as I burn for you, I feel you everywhere.” He gulps, adam’s apple bobbing.

“I know you do, but I need to show you what I should have given you, fuck what you deserve. You deserved to be happy that night, looking so beautiful, so hopeful just for me to crush you.” You’re sobbing now, as the pain sinks in, it’s almost as if you cannot imagine Satoru did it.

“I want to pretend it did not happen.” He shakes his head.

“It did happen, I did those things. I need to right them, to do it all over, to take you far the fuck away from here, somewhere beautiful, fuck you on every surface and feed you and pamper you. Like the Princess you are to me.” His words make you dizzy, images flitting your mind.

“You already make me feel that way, I swear you do.” You murmur, he takes your hand then, thumbing the pearls of the ring on your delicate finger.

“I want to marry you again, it can be just us two. But I want it, and I need it, to take you away and give you everything, to make it special for you. You deserve that and more. Let me show you my love, please, marry me because you want to, because I want you to. Because I love you so deeply it kills me, because I cannot imagine a life without you.”

“Oh, Satoru!” You are a sobbing mess now, kissing him over and over, nodding and sniffling as he holds you to him, so tightly you cannot breathe, you’re nodding weakly, and he’s smiling against your lips then.

“Will you marry me, Duchess? Truly marry me this time?” He whispers, you feel it, the love and devotion humming through every inch of your body.

“I will marry you, Duke Gojo.” He kisses you deeply, and soon the carriage comes to a halt, but you all stay there, laughing through your tears, he’s brushing your hair back, sighing and shaking his head.

“I do not deserve you.” You shake your head.

“You do deserve me, you deserve love, you deserve it all. You are not who you were, and you know I loved you even then.” You say, his full lips turn up at the corners as he gazes at you lovingly.

“I was an ass.” You giggle a bit, breathless.

“You still are a bit.”

“Excuse me?” He raises a brow, you keep giggle. “I’ll have to punish you for that. Oh, you’re far too excited.”

You bite your lip, hugging him and burying your face against his neck. “When is this wedding, hmm?”

“I will set to plan something very soon, I also will have us go to my estate in Scotland.”

“I’ve never been!”

“No? It’s beautiful. I’ll make everything right this time, I swear it.” You lean back, looking into his glistening eyes, feeling his breaths against your lips.

“We do not have to do this, but I also would love to. I have wondered, how would a true wedding night have been? If you were… my first. I wish so badly that things did not happen as they did, but then… were they meant to?”

“I was never meant to be so cruel.” He says, and you feel his anguish.

“I say let us not look upon the past, perhaps a new wedding would be a way for a fresh start. I daresay I’m rather excited.”

“God I love you.” You’re soon in his arms, he’s carrying you inside, kissing you over and over, the staff including Nan is smiling at you all as he carries you up the winding stairs. “I could hold you forever.”

“I could stay in your arms forever.” Satoru soon has you in a bath, he’s gently washing your hair, fingers pressing against your scalp, earning your sigh of happiness as he does. “Satoru…”

“Hmm?”

“I never want this to end. Us, together, so happy. Promise me, promise me nothing will tear us apart again.” You whisper, emotions making you choke up, he frowns then, cupping your face, seeing the tears glimmering as the hot water gently runs over your skin.

“Why are you saying this? Are you… do you doubt me because…” You hear the worry in his voice.

“No, no. I do not doubt you but I fear things. I fear it will all be over, and I love you so much I’ll be left with nothing.” His sweet touches and kisses melt you, you feel the anxiety lessen bit by bit.

“Breathe, please.” He orders softly, you take a breath, nodding carefully. “I will never leave you, I will never make such foolish mistakes again, I will be with you until I take my last breath, do you understand?”

You sob softly as you both kiss, as you turn and straddle him, and the water is sloshing around you both, your hands dripping down as you cup his face, as you slide your fingers through his wet, silky locks. Staring into a face that you adore, his intense gaze and tight grip reassuring you as his words sink in.

Until your last breath.

“I will be with you until then, I will be with you after, there is no me without you anymore.” He places his hand on your beating heart, feeling it flutter just for him, looking at your perfect breasts rising and falling, glistening from the water, making him so hungry again for you.

When isn’t he?

Your words of love melt him, but he’s also a man, and a man that is helpless and hopelessly turned on by his pretty wife. “Keep looking at me like that and I’m putting more cum in you.” You gasp, earning his chuckle. “You like that idea, hmm?”

“I’m sore, you fiend.”

“Your stamina…”

“Oh fuck you!” He sighs, tilting his head back as you study his perfect features, so happy for once everything else is just a whisper. “I love you.”

“And I, you.”

One Week Later

The rays of sunlight flit in, you feel it, Satoru’s firm lips on your neck, his hand splaying your tummy, you whine out and arch your back, earning his groan. He presses you on your back then, kissing across your chest, down to your breasts, shifting your thin silk chemise down to lap at one of your sensitive nipples. You cry out at it, hands entwining in his hair.

“Oh, Satoru… mmm! They hurt.” He chuckles, nipping one, it hurts so much it feels good, then he’s turned his attention to the other, and you wince in slight pain again, they’re aching. “Ah!”

“Do they really hurt that badly? You’re not due for monthlies are you.” He keeps kissing down your body, slipping the chemise to reveal every little inch of you, as you gasp and arch your back.

“No, not for a week or so. It’s so strange… oh that feels so good, though, please…” You’re whining as he plays with them more, you could almost orgasm from just his touch on your nipples, cunt dripping wet. The silk moves gently across your skin, a whisper in the quiet morning.

The lights play on the planes of his face, the way his hair falls just so, the way his eyes lock on yours as he laps at your nipple again, in slow circles, one hand bracing himself as the other squishes a breast in his grip. It hurts again, you’re jerking just a bit at it, nipples pronounced and ready for him.

“Well I like this, you all sensitive.” He teases, grinning so sexy, you feel your cheeks heat up at it.

“You like to hurt me a bit, hmm?” You challenge, whispering, Satoru leans back down, sucking a peak into his mouth, harder, his cheeks hollowing as he does, you scream out at the sensation now, when his teeth press against your areola, and the sensations spread everywhere. “F-fuck, it h-hurts…”

“Good or bad, slutty Duchess?” He asks, going to your other peak, repeating the bite of his sharp teeth, making your tummy clench, you grind on his thigh eagerly. “Fuck feel how wet you are.”

You can’t speak, the pain and pleasure so blinding, he removes his mouth from where he’s sucked your nipple until it’s all puffy and glistening from his saliva, pressing his bare thigh up against you more. You’re dripping down his leg, clit so sensitive it rivals your nipples, he starts kissing lower now, your tummy, soft kisses at first then he’s biting you.

Across your ribs, the underside of your breasts, sucking and biting and lapping you up everywhere, making you a pathetic writhing mess for him. You’re so beautiful in the soft light of the morning, in his bed, covered in his marks, your eyes dilated in pleasure, lashes casting shadows on your precious face, a face he sees every time he shuts his eyes.

God he can’t wait to marry you, truly marry you.

He’s picturing doing this in Scotland now, perhaps on some rolling green hill, your legs spread and hair splayed on some plaid, fuck he’s so ready for it, he’s mostly got it planned out, he only hopes you’ll enjoy it, he hopes it’s something beautiful, like you deserve. He’s looking up at you as he glides your chemise down your body completely, leaving you bare for his eyes to feast on.

He drinks in every line and curve of your perfect body, your smooth skin that he presses his lips against, feeling every muscle tense as he kisses even lower, as his hands press into your hips. He inhales your sweet scent, teeth nibbling your inner thighs, enjoying the glittery bite marks he’s leaving like a trail.

Satoru gets down to your dripping wet lips of your pretty pussy, he teases his finger tip at your entrance, earning your little hole drooling all down his hand, he exhales at it. “I’ve barely touched her and she’s this wet?”

“Sensitive too.” You breathe out, every little breath of his makes you jerk, even his smirk against your thighs have you pouring out, honeyed arousal making your cunt glisten. “S-Satoru…”

“Need something, Princess?” He teases, smirking up at you, his blue eyes darkening when he presses a kiss against your clit, your body jerks as desire floods through you.

“Need you.” He moans, swiping his tongue up your slit, string of saliva and your slick dripping from his tongue, your hands enwrap in his silken white hair, crying out at the sensation. “Toru, need you in me.”

“In a minute, you taste so good. Fuck you’re dripping.” He huffs in wonder, looking at his fingers coated in you, rolling them together and then slipping two fingers in your soppy little cunt, the stretch and pressure so much you’re screaming now, as his fingers press on your spot. “That’s it, fucking feel you, s’wet for me, f-fuck.”

You hear it, his fingers playing you, you’re stupid wet it’s ridiculous, his free hand slips up to grip one of your breasts again, you’re arching up off the bed, whining out at how good it feels, his tongue swirling right along with his fingers pumping. It’s too much, you fall apart so easily for him, completely unraveling, as he drinks you up, slipping his fingers out.

You pulse around nothing when he sucks you off his fingers, white lashes fluttering, then he’s kissing you, you’re lapping your sweetness off him. In the quiet morning it’s you whining into his lips, when he flips you over, laying you on your tummy, prone over you now. You’re trembling as he wraps one hand around your throat, your eyes rolling back in your skull.

“S’good, T-Toru, ah!” Your head falls back, exposing more of your throat when his leaky tip is running his precum up and down your clit, you’re trembling as he holds you, his long fingers wrap around your throat fully.

“You love it, don’t you? Me choking your pretty neck.” He murmurs, you weakly nod, ass arching up enough to allow his tip to enter your cunt, bit by bit, sinking into your eager hole.

“I love it.” You whisper, he squeezes your throat tighter, breathy moan in your ear, fucking you so deep you feel him everywhere. “Ngh!”

You’re crying out as he begins fucking into you, one hand brutally squeezing your hip, the other, squeezing your throat, you’re fading so dizzy and weak for him, velvety walls fluttering around his length. Satoru feels you squeezing him like a fucking vise, you feel him so deep, in your tummy, everywhere. Satoru’s tip hits your cervix then, he rolls his hips, and you fall apart under him.

“Fucking feel you, god you’re so tight Princess.” Your answer is a whimper, cumming all over his length, dripping down on the sheets below. “So wet feel that cunt gripping me, f-fuck.”

Satoru’s voice is desperate, his hand squeezing even harder, your vision blackening and glitter sparkling your vision when he lets you go, turning your chin to him, lips slamming on yours. Your moans are drunk by him, he wraps an arm around your waist, dragging your hips back on his length again.

“Satoru!” You’re crying out his name, voice hoarse, he rolls his hips again, the ridge of his tip brushing on your spot, sending you fucking reeling again. Your cunt is so loud with how wet she is, skin smacking in the quiet of the morning.

“That’s it, lemme feel you, gonna fuck you s’good baby.” Satoru’s nipping on your ear, then your neck, bending over you, taking over your every sense. You gasp and cry out, while he picks up your hips, finger finding your clit and rolling. “There you go, slutty cunt pouring all over the bed, huh?”

“F-fuck you, Toru.” He chuckles before crying out, as you tighten your cunt up around him, laughing breathless when he whimpers. “Too tight?”

“Slutty brat.” He huffs, the words just urging you, when he’s flipped you to your back again, cock lining up with your entrance, shoving deep inside you again, you feel your body tingling fucking everywhere when you clamp down on him again, and he scowls at you. “Loosen up, fuck.”

“Hmm? Wh-what do you mean- ah!” Satoru sinks fully in, stuffing you so full, stretching you out while he squishes your breasts in his hand again, smiling fucking devious at you. “Ah! Fucking hurts!”

“Aw poor baby can’t take it?” He huffs, challenging you, your hips lift, and he uses the movement to pull almost all the way out.

“N-no!”

He grins, then thrusts inside to the hilt, your eyes roll back, and he’s grinning now, so smug. “So much for your talk, huh?”

You just whine, biting down on your lip, your body so sensitive now, the pleasure so intense you’re shaking, your nails digging into his shoulders, he snaps those slender hips forward, slapping his pelvis against yours, you feel it in your stomach, he’s fucking you so deep, feel him everywhere, inside you, around you. He moans and cups your face, bracing himself on his elbows.

“Gonna fuck your mind up, Duchess.” He huffs, eyes bright as his grin is psychotic, but it just makes you wetter, weaker for him. “All mine, every fucking bit of you, isn’t it?” You nod weakly, pussy aching already, but he’s clearly not done, not even close, fucking you into another orgasm that has you a mess.

“Y-yes, Toru. S’all yours.” Your words are slurred, when he’s easing back, tilting your mouth open, his saliva dripping in it. Your eyes cross as your tongue hangs out, opening for his spit, his drool, and you gasp when he slams his cock so deep, big hands pressing your thighs so far apart they ache.

Satoru wants to own you, every bit of you, looking down at the fucked out mess you are under him.

His perfect Duchess, his little princess has his spit in her open mouth, her dilated eyes keep crossing and rolling. He feels those walls clutching his cock, trying to milk him for everything he’s god, he has to pull back, gasping, he doesn’t want it to end yet, he needs his Princess a fucking mess.

Satoru pulls back, up on his knees, lifting your ass up to sink deep, your head pressing back into the pillows as you swallow his spit. “Can your pretty tits handle anything right now?”

“Th-they’re so s-sensitive- ah! B-but…. yes please.” He’s bent over you, his back arching up, tongue back on them, sucking them rough. Your hands sink into his skin on his back, nails pressing in, leaving marks while he slowly pumps into your cunt again and again.

“Perfect tits, fuckin perfect body.” You melt, blinking back tears, usually in the mornings it’s some lazy sex, him cuddling you, this is insane, this is after a fight sex, it’s after a night at the ball sex, that consuming mind fucking he’s doing, along with praising every bit of you. “Those eyes, fuck.”

“You’re t-too much.” You manage, he chuckles, breathless, stroking a tear from your cheek, easing his pace finally.

“Sore, baby?” He’s smirking, teasing you.

“It’s so much. So big.” He moans at that. “Too deep, so full.”

“Yeah so full of me?” You nod weakly, his hand presses on the bulge he’s making in your tummy, fucking slower and slower, it’s so intimate and feels so good, you feel your skin slick with sweat now, feel yourself falling off the edge of the earth, clinging to the man that makes you descend into madness.

“Full, so full. You’re everywhere Toru.” Your eyes both lock then, you stare into those blue swirling storms, his pupils blown out, as he hovers over you, your leg over his arm now, leaky tip prodding your cervix. Your sensitive breasts are heaving with every breath you take, small and shaky.

“You’re everywhere, every time I close my eyes, or open them, I want to fucking see your pretty face, pretty body.” You do cry then, it’s too much. You feel so emotional lately, especially when the man you love is working you, is cupping your face, at one moment rough and brutal, at another so slow and sweet.

“Cum in me, please, Toru.” You beg, your voice a breathy cry.

His brows furrow together, his snowy lashes lowering, he moans then, capturing your lips in another breathtaking kiss. “Only if you cum first, want your slutty cunt to milk me dry.”

You whine out, when he slips his hand down, your foot is pressed against his shoulder, his strong muscles rolling when he fucks you hard now, and just like that, you’re coming again, your cunt tightening around his cock, your body writhing underneath him as you let out strangled cries. You feel the tears pouring from pleasure and the overwhelming person that is Satoru Gojo.

“There she is, fuck. Good little Princess.” He cooes, but you hear it, his hitch in his breath, the catch in his voice, he pumps quickly then, chasing his release, and then practically cries out in his own whimper when he starts cumming, kissing your neck then biting you as he rolls his hips.

“Toru- f-fuck!” You whine out, in between sobs, when his cum is pumping up into your pussy, filling you so fucking full.

“Gonna put so many babies in you, huh?” You weakly nod, tears sticky and hot on your cheeks, when he cups your face, his cock throbbing. “You’ll look so fucking beautiful full with me.”

“Toru you’re fucking my head up and it’s the morning.” You whisper, he chuckles then, swiping tears from your cheeks. “Psychotic Duke.”

“Slutty Duchess. Mmm.” You’re pulsing around him, you’re both so sensitive, when he eases out you tremble at it, your cunt dripping his cum out, so deliciously fucking sore. He shoves two fingers in your sloppy cunt then, and watches you writhe and your eyes flutter shut.

“Sadistic ass Duke.” You whine out, he laughs softly, kissing your forehead sweetly like he’s not fingering his cum back inside you.

“No, I just want you to be full of cum for tonight. Think I’ll need to put a few more in before this dance we’re going to.” You exhale, shaking your head, when he pumps again, the squishy mess of your cunt utterly lewd.

“A few more!?” You demand, narrowing your eyes, he grins.

“There she is, my mean little Duchess. Fucking love that look.”

“The ‘I’ll kill you’ look?”

“Oh yes. Mmm, don’t you want a baby anyway? How will you have one if you waste all my seed like this? Tsk tsk.” Satoru shoves his fingers so deep, you’re pulsing around his fingers again, feeling him harden against your inner thigh, cock sticky and hot.

“S’not how it works, you just love torturing me. Ngh!” He smiles against your lips, kissing you over and over.

“I do love to abuse your pretty cunt, watch that gorgeous face as I drive you fucking crazy.”

“Sadistic.”

“You’re masochistic.”

“To be with you? Yes.”

He glares now, and you’re giggling. “You little fucking brat.”

“What- ah!” Satoru’s smacked your pussy now, your thighs tremble.

“And you like it, don’t you?”

“Fuck you. Yes.” He snorts once more, kissing you as he hits your spot again, when suddenly your tummy tenses too much, and you wince a bit at it. “Satoru… it really is too much.”

“Are you too weak?” He taunts, but your tummy really hurts suddenly, you shake your head and he pulls back. “Too much, Princess?”

“N-no. Something… I feel…” You exhale, trying to breathe.

“Is it your asthma? I’ll fetch a doctor.” He says softly, the concern clear in his voice and on his features.

“No, Toru not at all. It’s… my tummy.” You wince again, turning away from him and exhaling. “It’s so tense and I feel almost sick.”

“Did I do too much?” You shake your head again, he kisses your bare shoulders, hands gently running along your back. “I don’t want you sick for the wedding.”

“I won’t be, promise. We have a week. Um, could you tell Nan to make me something to eat maybe? I feel hungry and sick?” He frowns, then nods, pecking a kiss on your forehead.

“I’ll go have her make something for you.” You smile gratefully, you both clean up, then you sit up in the bed, as the wave of nausea passes, you shake your hands and try to exhale, to focus.

Soon Nan is in your room, with your coffee and some delectable muffins, they look mouth watering then. She looks at you with a small smile. “Is everything alright Duchess?”

“I believe so. I got a little queasy, oh these look so delectable!” You inhale the muffin and smell the sugar and blueberry.

“Your favorite, Duchess. Now, take a bite.” You are starving, and nauseous, it’s an odd combination, but the food is helping somehow, coating your tummy as you nibble more and more.

“Nan, could I ask you something personal?” You murmur, as you practically devour the muffin and reach for another.

“Of course, my love. You have quite an appetite, it’s so nice to see.” You flush a bit.

“I do seem to be ravenous, hmm?” You lick sugar off a finger, sipping on the coffee now.

“It’s part of being a newlywed. Which… you will be again I see.”

Marrying Satoru.

Truly marrying him.

Yes, you all are together, but this? You cannot wait.

“Indeed, I agree. But Nan… it’s personal.” You whisper, leaning close, Nan bobs her head, leaning in. “My nipples hurt so bad, my breasts ache. I am a little worried because I’m not due for monthlies. Have you ever felt this?”

She pauses then, smiling, shaking her head. “I should have guessed.”

“Guessed what, Nan?” You tilt your head curiously, and she shocks you then, touching your tummy over your blue silk wrapper you’re wearing.

“You’re glowing, you have an appetite, your… ahem…” She eyes your bosoms, fuller than usual you notice. “They hurt. That’s all signs of being with child.”

You falter then, gasping, putting your hand on hers over your tummy. “W-with child? I… are you sure?”

Satoru walks in then, grinning at you both, before he sees her hand on your tummy, his eyes dart back and forth, where Nan is touching you. He gulps then, shaking his head, lips opening then closing, just to repeat the action, lashes blinking rapidly, as if he’s putting it all together.

You turn to him, taking his hand now. “Satoru, it's just a guess, we do not surely know yet… but…”

His mouth opens and closes once more, his eyelids lowered as they stare at where your tummy is, reaching out and touching it now, placing a hand over you. “Are you…”

You nod just a bit, feeling the swelling of happiness, along with some apprehension for how Satoru would feel. Was it just talk? Would this be too much for him? You all are just starting to have this uninterrupted bliss, this perfect morning, and though you want this so badly, you want him ready.

“Are you…” He keeps trailing off, stepping closer now, Nan watches you both with a little smile. “Pregnant?”

A/N- This is very smushy and happy, yes I know this was angst but I write Happy Ever After stories only. I am working on Nanami's side story if you wish to be tagged in that plz lmk! Tysm for those who still read this, I know it's going LONG and it's a lot. I love you all bc this has become my favorite project I've written so far!

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