#for many more seasons! just seemed cruel

[llycaons]

this season had a strong start but I do not love some of the choices made since then

[drunk-person]

Bravery in love

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

Summary: For Prince Aemond Targaryen, bravery was in war and fighting. Until he met his wife and learned about different forms of bravery.

WARNING: No age restriction. Unhealthy amounts of cuteness and softness, a tiny bit of pain, and one paragraphs of sexual innuendo.

Word cont: 3.500 k

Author's note: Okay I saw a really cute video of a baby discovering that she could move her legs whenever she wanted and she was so cute and I ended up writing this story which is basically a giant fluff hahahaha. English is not my first language so be kind if you can 💕💕.

♡-♡-♡

The sun was already high in Kings Landing on a beautiful warm spring day, the beauty of the season lifted everyone's spirits, but no one had a bigger smile than Princess Y/n, Prince Aemond's wife as she ran to the bedroom door to tell them to call her husband.

The two had been married for two whole years at this point, an arrangement made between Aemond's grandfather and her father. Initially Y/n was apprehensive about the marriage, considering the many terrible stories she had heard of women who had married before her. But upon meeting Prince Aemond, her heart melted for him before she even realized it.

He seemed cold and hard at first when she arrived at the capital, but then suddenly he was so shy and so sweet when they were alone in the garden to talk for the first time. And when Y/n said she liked stories, he smiled, turning his face to the side and told her that he also really liked stories.

Later that night, when Y/n returned to her room, she found a book with a black leather cover and the title "Rhaenys, the bravery of love" next to a very small blue flower. The young lady thought she would faint right there when she touched the soft petals of the flower.

Then came the wedding and after that nothing but happiness with her husband. Every day the two became closer and trusted each other more, to the point that Aemond told her his deepest sorrows and she in return confided hers, and little by little she realized that everything her husband wanted most was just be loved, and that's what she did, she loved him.

Y/n felt happy in a way she never thought would be possible, there was only one problem, it had been a year since the wedding and her belly still hadn't shown any signs of growing. And it wasn't as if she and her husband weren't trying, after they both became acquainted Aemond became thirsty for touch and planted his seed in her every day, sometimes more than once a day, which made her even more worried.

The cruel whispers had already taken over the fortress. Words like "infertility" and "dry womb" became common when they thought she wasn't listening. And as broken as Y/n's heart was, she tried hard to pretend to her husband that it didn't hurt that much. She knew how much Aemond wanted a child, and it was her duty to give him one, guilt plagued her when she thought about it, thinking that she couldn't do so little for a husband who gave her everything she asked for without blinking.

On a winter afternoon with the weather colder than usual in the capital, Y/n was sitting alone in the garden admiring a pair of nightingales that had made a nest in a nearby tree when she felt Aemond's soft but possessive touch pulling her towards him.

-What are you doing here in this cold weather? You'll freeze. - His low voice sounded against her ear and she just smiled weakly.

-I like coming here, it's where we had our first conversation, remember? - She looked at him. - It always makes me happy to think about that day when I don't feel cheerful.

-And why would the most beautiful lady in the realms be sad? - Aemond looked at her deeply, Y/n felt as if he saw through her soul and still trying to hide his sadness, he looked down at the ground.

-Wife. - His gloved fingers guided her chin up and she couldn't escape his gaze again. - I know something is wrong, tell me.

And Y/n could no longer contain herself, the tears that were very well kept ran loose down her face as she hid them in her husband's chest, sobbing and trembling while holding on tightly to him, as if he would evaporate before her.

-I'm sorry, husband! - She sobbed against his chest.

-Y/n, my dear, did someone hurt you? - His voice sounded calm but with barely contained anger as he pulled her closer and closer in an act of protection. - Tell me who it was and I will kill him myself.

-No one has hurt me, husband. - She leaned against him, still pulling on his jerkin. - It's just me and my apparent inability to grant you a child.

-It is not up to you to grant me a child. - He said, looking at her firmly as he brought his hands to her face. - That depends on the will of the gods, when they feel it's time, they will send us a son. Until then, I don't want to see you crying because of this. - He stroked her cheeks with his fingertips and Y/n smiled, her face still slightly wet.

-Now let's go in and have some tea, I don't want you to catch a cold. - He guided her inside by the waist.

That night, amidst moans and groans of love and burning passion, Rhaenys was conceived to the joy and pride of her mother and father.

To Aemond's relief, Y/n had an easy and uncomplicated pregnancy; she just had a burning desire for him and wanted him inside her every hour of the day without rest, something he granted without discussion after a extensive research to find out if it would not pose a risk to his wife or the baby.

The birth was not much different, it was late summer and the weather was starting to get cooler, but even so, it was a difficult time and Aemond did not leave Y/n's side at any time, and the maesters did not dare ask him to leave the birthing chambers more than once after the absolutely deadly look Aemond gave them at the first request.

And when Y/n cried and told her husband that she was scared, he grabbed her hand tightly and whispered only for her to hear.

-I know you can do it, my sweet girl. - Leaving a kiss on her sweaty chest.

-I am not as brave as you. - She cried while shaking her head and holding onto her husband's hands.

-Remember that there is also bravery in love. - Aemond spoke softly, but confidently as he squeezed her hand.

And after hearing that with restored strength at the thought of her little baby, Y/n pushed even harder as she screamed through the pain and could finally hear the sweet cry of her little girl. At that very moment she burst into tears of pure relief and emotion, and when the maester placed her in her arms wrapped in a bloody white cloth she could swear she saw her husband shed a tear or two too.

And with passionate smiles the two chose the name of their little daughter in honor of the conqueror who gave the title to the first gift that Aemond gave her on the day they met. And from that sweet moment on, little Rhaenys became the pride and joy of both their lives.

Almost 7 moons later, already in spring Y/n now felt that her happiness was complete. The sparkle in her eyes could be seen from miles away as she played with her little daughter who had begun to sit up on her own. With each new discovery Rhaenys made, Aemond and Y/n celebrated as if it were a victory in a tournament.

One of the sweetest moments was the day she discovered she could control her own legs. It was something so simple, but so sweet. They were sitting on the bed talking while Rhaenys absentmindedly played with a small wooden sculpture in the shape of a dragon, using it to scratch the teeth that had bothered her since birth.

Suddenly, when they both looked, Rhaenys was laughing as she slowly raised her left leg and watched with a look of delight, only to do the same with her right leg and then lean forward trying to grab her own legs, smiling and babbling.

They both smiled and looked at her full of love, everything was perfect and Y/n had never felt so good in her life. Except for the fact that two days later she discovered that the court had not stopped talking about her. Y/n was walking distractedly towards her own chambers when she heard the whispers and low laughter of other ladies.

-So long to be able to give the prince a child and when she does, it's a girl. - The mockery was clear in that voice.

-Poor Prince Aemond, how much longer will it take until she can give him an heir? - Another lady laughed while whispering. - He'll have to settle for just a daughter, it seems.

Y/n felt her eyes watering at the same moment and accelerated her pace towards the rooms while breathing deeply trying to contain her tears and with a deep sigh she entered her own chambers while wiping away a tear that escaped. As soon as she raised her head and looked at the room she almost smiled at the scene before her.

Aemond sat on the carpet with his long legs crossed with his little Rhaenys held in his arms, his voice sounded softly through the room and now Y/n smiled genuinely when she saw what he was doing.

-Say Kepa. – Aemond smiled gently at his daughter. - Kepa. - He spoke more slowly while gently caressing the child's back.

Her husband was always trying to teach her to say "father" in Valyrian, and the little girl just babbled as she stuck her fingers in her mouth and smiled toothlessly at her father. Aemond swore that she was almost able to do it and that she had even said a syllable to him when they were alone. The prince, feeling like he was being watched, raised his head and smiled softly when he saw his wife standing near the door.

-Your muña is back byka sõvion. (Little butterfly) - He murmured softly to his daughter as he gently shook her and made the little girl smile. Aemond's loving gaze gradually faded as he noticed his wife's melancholy and he carefully placed Rhaenys on the carpet, leaving a soft kiss on the crown of her slightly curly silver hair.

-Umbagon va se ritz byka sõvion. - (Stay on the carpet little butterfly) He whispered as if his little daughter could understand every word and she just screamed and babbled while slapping her hands on the carpet.

The prince walked slowly to his wife and pulled her closer to him, caressing her hips with the tips of his thumbs.

-What's wrong, Issa jorrāelagon? - Aemond murmured against her forehead, leaving a kiss there and then brushing his nose against hers.

-People can be very cruel sometimes. - She sighed against her husband's neck, and Aemond felt his own blood burn in his veins at the prospect of someone being cruel to his Y/n.

-Who had the audacity to say anything to you? - Aemond's voice was restrained, but anger dripped from the corners of his lips and Y/n just shook her head quickly as she laid her head on his chest.

-Just nasty whispers.

-What kind of whispers? - He continued with his voice carefully restrained as he pulled her closer and closer, holding her tightly.

-Does it matter to you that I gave birth to a girl? - She looked him in the eye with pain. - Would you rather have had a son?

-Sīkudi nopāzmi. (Seven hells) - Aemond practically growled with his face contorted with rage as he held Y/n's face firmly between his palms. - Qilōni istan se wretched gīs qilōni naejot vestragon bona naejot ao? Ivestragon issa ābrazȳrys! (Who was the wretched soul who dared to say that to you? Tell me, wife!)

Y/n looked at him confused, not understanding what he had said other than ābrazȳrys. And breathing deeply, trying to control his own nerves, Aemond repeated more calmly while rubbing his wife's arms gently.

-Tell me who was wife. - He asked, looking deeply into her eyes. - Who dared to say such a thing to you?

-I just heard it when I was passing by. - Y/n had seen who it was, but she wouldn't tell him because she knew her husband would do something about it.

Aemond snorted again and pulled her back to him.

-Wife, I don't want you to listen to such nonsense ever again in your life. - He murmured to her. - You and our daughter are everything in my life, and although I wish to have more children, if we had no more besides Rhaenys I would be the happiest man in this cursed land for having you.

-To issi issa glaeson. - He sighed as he tucked a lock of Y/n's hair behind her ear.

-What does that mean? - She asked slightly emotional.

-You are my life. - He repeated, looking firmly into her eyes as he squeezed her hands in his. - And there is nothing I value more than you and our byka sõvion.

He smirked as he looked at Rhaenys who had laid down and was now trying to shove her own foot into her mouth while spluttering and laughing.

-You know me better than anyone else, wife, and I'm honest when I tell you that I've never been happier in my entire life than I am now. Our family brings me joy.

The smile on Y/n's face could warm even those beyond the wall as she jumped on her husband and hugged him happily.

-I love you, husband. - She sighed against his neck, Aemond didn't respond, but he never responded, at least not with those exact words, his heart was much more complex than that.

More moons passed, and Aemond became increasingly enchanted by his daughter, his eyes shining with each evolution and discovery that the little girl made. He never wanted to miss anything, he liked to be there for every little new thing and he made it clear to Y/n that she should call him anytime and that's what she did on one special day.

-Send for my husband! As soon as possible. - Y/n hissed at one of the maids who was passing by the hallway. The young woman nodded and ran without even looking back towards the training courtyard to look for the prince.

-Your grace, forgiveness for the interruption. - The girl said, looking at the ground. - But your wife urgently requested your presence.

Aemond's chest was briefly breathless when he heard that, and without caring about anything else, he dropped his sword on the floor and ran towards his own chambers.

He entered the room calling for his wife with wide eye, but his expression changed from fear to curiosity when he saw her with her index finger against her lips in a clear sign of silence for him, while with her other hand she pointed to the foot of the sofa where Rhaenys was standing for the first time as she tried to walk on her own.

Aemond's jaw dropped, and he felt tears coming to his eye, his little girl was almost walking.

-You forgot. - Y/n smiled and gently pulled off her husband's eyepatch, throwing it on the table. She had convinced him not to wear it around Rhaenys. At first he hesitated, but it proved to be a good thing since the little girl was completely enchanted by the sparkle of the sapphire in her father's eye, always reaching out her hands towards him and gently rubbing the area while she babbled. And Aemond wouldn't admit it out loud, but that small gesture of affection made him feel loved in a whole new way that he had never felt before.

Still with tears in his eye, Aemond turned away he slowly approached the couch as he crouched down next to his daughter, who, upon seeing him, screamed with excitement and took an excited step towards him. And as if all of this wasn't the most magical thing that had ever happened to him, Rhaenys began to babble as she tried to walk towards her father.

-Ke - She babbled waving her free hand towards him and Aemond felt his heart warm. - Ke-pa.

-Konir sagon paktot byka sõvion, māzigon tosh kepa. (That's right, my little butterfly, come with daddy) - He whispered to his daughter with a slightly cloudy voice.

-Kepah! - She screamed in that sweet baby voice as she took her hand off the couch to clap her hands and before she could fall on her butt on the floor, Aemond caught her, preventing her from falling while two tears ran down his eye. Rhaenys looked at him with wide eyes, a little scared after almost falling, but Aemond caressed her back affectionately, calming her.

-Ziry iksos byka sõvion, kepa kessa dōrī ivestragī ao ropagon. (It's okay, little butterfly, daddy will never let you fall.) - He smiled as more tears fell and Rhaenys looked at him enchanted as she once again caressed the sapphire attached to her father's eye. - Dõrī. (Never) - He reaffirmed with a look of pure love.

Rhaenys had said her first words and Y/n did not understand what her husband was saying to her daughter, just a few words that he had already taught her and the sweet nickname he gave Rhaenys, but her heart was so warm that Y/n thought it might be on fire. She could see the love overflowing from her husband's eyes in an uncontrollable way and at that moment Lady Y/n knew that only she and her little Rhaenys were enough.

About a moon later Aemond decided it was time to introduce his daughter to Vhagar. And after a short trip in the house on wheels and a walk along the edge of the royal forest they arrived at the immense dragon. Y/n already knew her, she had even flown on Vhagar with Aemond, but even so she was a little afraid for Rhaenys, something that she told herself was completely unfounded because of all the people in the world she knew that the only one who would never do anything that could put her Rhaenys at risk was Aemond.

The prince had barely approached the dragon with his daughter and she was already looking at him curiously, still with her head lying on the meadow. And while Aemond spoke to her in Valyrian, Y/n just smiled in love, the smile only got bigger after Rhaenys laughed and screamed as she took her little hands to caress the dragon's scales while babbling some incoherent things to her father.

-She'll be a formidable dragon rider one day. - Aemond stated seriously as he smiled sideways at his wife who just rolled her eyes unable to imagine her little girl on a beast that size, but she knew she had to get used to the idea, she was a Targaryen after all.

-If she's as good as her father, she'll be the best of them all. - Y/n smiled as she caressed her husband's back and left a kiss against her daughter's soft hair.

At the answer, Aemond smiled and pulled her by the waist closer to him and his daughter while leaving a sweet kiss on her lips.

-You've told me more than once that you're not brave. - He murmured against her lips as he gently brushed his own lips against hers. - But you were brave to love me when no one else tried. Thank you for being everything I wanted, everything I needed.

After saying that he extended a small flower with blue petals to her and smiled a little shyly as he made Rhaenys more comfortable in his arms.

And with tears in her eyes, Lady Y/n reached out and took the small, soft flower between her fingers, then hugged him and her smiling daughter, knowing that in her husband's strange and rigid language, that was an I love you.

Since Aemond was courageous enough to ride huge dragons, engage in sword duels and so many other dangerous things, but simple words terrified him. She didn't need them, she knew how to read her husband's heart, eyes and actions that told Y/n every hour of every day that he loved her, and even if he didn't love her, she was brave enough to love for both of them.

And with that thought she smiled and kissed him sweetly on the lips as she held both him and her precious Rhaenys close, her beloved most precious possessions.

[princesseilish]

QUITE LIFE

Billie Eilish x Fem!Reader

Warnings: readers sensitive, no mentions of y/n? Billie is in love

Synopsis: in an interview things dive deep into billie’s wife who she mainly talks about but never shows

The studio was calm, the air filled with the faint hum of production equipment. Billie sat in the spotlight, her blue eyes shadowed with something unspoken, though her posture remained steady. The interviewer, a seasoned journalist known for navigating both the light and heavy topics with grace, leaned forward, voice warm but curious.

“Billie, you’ve always been vocal about mental health, authenticity, and protecting your space, but I have to ask—your engagement and wedding, both of which you managed to keep incredibly private, came as a surprise to many. Why did you decide to keep something so personal away from the public eye?”

Billie tilted her head back slightly, as if searching for words on the ceiling, her lips pressing together before a quiet exhale escaped her. “Because she’s my world,” she said softly, her voice cracking just enough to betray her emotion.

The interviewer didn’t interrupt.

Billie’s hand rose to tuck a strand of dark hair behind her ear, her gaze dropping momentarily to her lap. “Look, I’ve been in this industry long enough to know how it works,” she started. “And I know what happens when people think they’re entitled to every piece of you. I signed up for this; she didn’t. And I’ve seen what the world can do to someone who isn’t prepared for that kind of… attention, especially someone as sensitive as her.”

A faint, almost wistful smile curved her lips. “She’s not built for it. Like, she can’t even handle the car radio being too loud without constantly feeling overwhelmed.” Billie let out a small laugh, though it sounded more like a sigh. “I used to tease her about it—how her world is so quiet, so calm. But now I see how much better that is. She’s taught me to appreciate that quiet.”

The room seemed heavier now, Billie’s words painting vivid images of the love she carried for her wife. The interviewer hesitated before speaking, sensing the depth of what Billie was sharing. “It sounds like you’re very protective of her.”

“I am,” Billie said without hesitation, her voice firm but tender. “She saved me. And I don’t mean in some cheesy, fairytale way—I mean she literally saved me. She loved me when I couldn’t even look in the mirror. When I was at my lowest, when I felt like I was drowning and dragging everyone down with me, she stayed. She didn’t have to, but she did.”

Her voice broke slightly, and she swallowed hard, taking a moment to gather herself. “I don’t think people realize how terrifying it is to be loved like that. It’s… humbling. And it makes you want to do everything, anything, to deserve it.”

The interviewer’s voice softened. “Do you feel like you deserve it now?”

Billie’s laugh was quiet, almost self-deprecating. “I’m trying,” she admitted. “But I know one thing for sure: I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her. The thought of her being overwhelmed, of people shoving cameras in her face or saying cruel things about her online—it would break her. And if that happened, it’d be my fault for not shielding her from it.”

The interviewer nodded, her eyes glistening. “That’s a lot of love, Billie.”

“It is,” Billie agreed, her voice barely above a whisper. “But she’s worth it. Every single bit of it.”

The conversation drifted to lighter topics after that, but Billie’s words hung in the air, raw and heavy with emotion. Fans who watched the interview would later flood social media with their admiration for her vulnerability, but in that moment, Billie wasn’t thinking about the audience or the cameras.

She was thinking about her wife—her quiet, sensitive wife who was probably curled up on the couch at home, reading a book or humming softly to herself.

And she meant it. Protecting her wife wasn’t just a choice—it was a promise, one she’d keep for the rest of her life.

[muletia]

Soemthing about Opitmus' holoform and him just following you around doing domestic things just because

domestic fluff?? in this economy? hell yeah

cw: fluff, pinch of angst

word count: 710

Optimus longs to experience normalcy. Immersed in war, surrounded by the scent of spilled energon and the wails of wounded comrades... after so many years, such a cruel and unjust daily reality is bound to leave a mark, shift priorities, and force him into thinking always of others and never of himself. And so, even for a brief moment, he wishes to allow himself to be selfish. To focus on doing something that brings him joy. And it just so happens that his joy lies in being in your presence—getting to know you, spending time together on activities that, from a Cybertronian perspective, might seem trivial. Carefree. Yet he has distanced himself from such views.

He delights in discovering the hidden sides of you, the parts you don’t reveal at the base. They only emerge at home, in your sanctuary, where you show him another version of yourself. The first time he asked to accompany you home, you were surprised. You enjoyed spending time with him too and treasured your shared moments, but you weren’t sure if he was ready for the boredom that came with it. That saddened him, because he sincerely wanted to know your boredom, to see you from an angle unfamiliar to him. To understand humanity on a more intimate level. To experience what humanity truly is—stripped of philosophy, disengaged from the rat race, living in the moment. In its simplest form. The archivist who no longer existed stirred within him, curious, inquisitive, and hungry for knowledge of the unknown. For a fleeting moment, Optimus allowed him back into his spark.

And so, you let him. You invite him into your home and unveil yourself to him, shedding layer after layer. The first time, he is agitated—not stressed, but uneasy; he’s afraid every movement might damage the furniture or the trinkets on the shelves. After all, he wouldn’t be able to repair them. Even while "being human," he betrays his true essence, unaccustomed to his new, smaller form. His title manifests even through the holoform. You have to take his hand and guide him to get him to move at all, for which he is deeply grateful.

He observes human boredom—washing dishes, doing laundry, preparing fuel (a meal, as you explained to him). You insist it’s dull, almost unworthy of his presence, but he is unwavering on this matter. He craves it. He wants to taste humanity, to see through your optics, even if just for a moment. Because he loves you and hungers to know everything about you—the good and the bad. The mundane and the thrilling. The most trivial and the profound. He needs honesty and openness. To know you trust him, for only then can he truly function.

You show him humanity through dancing, listening to music, and reading books. You let him season the meal, even though he doesn’t understand the purpose of the action. Allow him to water the plants while you share fascinating tidbits about each species. He never leaves your side, desperate for knowledge of your daily life. Becomes your shadow, intent on learning everything—who you truly are.

When you ask if he could read a book to you because you enjoy his voice, he agrees without hesitation, as he’s physically incapable of refusing you. Begins reading, and you rest your head on his lap, smiling as he tenses, trying to suppress his emotions. The words blur together as you start playing with the synthetic skin of his face, exploring with curiosity the false human that feels too real. You tell him you prefer his true form, his true self, and for the first time in his life, Optimus doesn’t know what to say, as no amount of experience could have prepared him for such raw honesty.

But this time, you allow him more. Let him feel the texture of your wet, freshly washed hair, touch damp skin, and dry your head with a towel. He sees you in your pajamas, even though the essence of fashion and clothing is largely unknown to him. Let him cuddle into you, to learn the sensation of closeness from a smaller perspective. And when you ask if he is satisfied with the human mundane, his answer remains unchanged.

[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 very appreciated if you enjoy

<<<Part Thirteen ♔ Masterlist ♔ Playlist ♔ Part Fifteen>>>

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!

Part Fifteen

[cloudedgalaxies]

ANYWAYS Idiyuu is Hades and Persephone conspiracy:

Persephone is not from the Underworld. She is called back to the Mortal Realm eventually because she has to return. Yuu is literally from another world. They are not suited to Twisted Wonderland, and are nothing like Idia has ever seen. They have to go back eventually.

Hades is probably one of the few TWST boys to have a “canon” spouse (at least in Greek mythology, which Hercules’ Hades is obviously based on). On top of that, Hades and Persephone is the love story between death and life, isolation and abundance, ending and rebirth. Idia is a gloomy, pessimistic boy who has been condemned to be the keeper of the Underworld. Yuu is a kind, gentle prefect who has been there to help and has helped everyone they know, again and again. 

Night Raven College has been in a ‘winter’ for all of its history. Everyone is hostile to everyone, no one wants to cooperate or work together, and every single person there has some ulterior motive. In comes Yuu, who is a breath of fresh air. A new perspective. A new season. They bring ‘spring,’ showing people that they can bloom. They can harbor feelings that aren’t cruel. They can do things that aren’t harsh. And slowly, they start to thaw. Flowers of friendship and something gentler bloom. Yuu is there to help pull the boys from their darkest moments to see the light again. Idia is no exception.

I think that the way Book 6 was set up makes Idia and Yuu seem a lot more meaningful honestly, though I'm probably reading way too into things lol. Yuu originally goes to the Island of Woe to save Grim. They don’t particularly care much about what’s going on with Idia—they just want to get Grim back. But then later, once they realize what’s going on, they do. There isn’t much, if any, personal connection to Idia’s overblot like there was with all the others. Yuu doesn’t have to do anything to help. And yet, they still do. Even after Idia basically kidnapped Grim, they still help him. They still try to end his winter.

Persephone, in many forms of the myth, didn't originally go to the Underworld willingly. But eventually, she came to love Hades, and they were happy together. Idia and Yuu have no reason to care about the other at first. But they eventually do, after everything that happens and everything that brings them together.

Hades and Persephone are in a constant push and pull. Persephone has to leave because if she stays, winter will never end. She does not want to leave, because she loves Hades. Yuu has to leave Twisted Wonderland, because they have a home beyond it that they need to return to. And yet, they don't want to leave because they love Idia. Idia doesn't want them to go, because it finally feels like spring again. But the seasons have to continue in their cycle, so what can they do?

Also, I think it’s really funny and really beautiful how Idia and Yuu’s first meeting was probably the Ghost Marriage event. This guy who thinks he has 0 rizz ends up having to be saved by some strange new isekai'd student and their gang of potential suitors before he gets his first kiss and promptly dies afterwards. Idia, the boy surrounded by death, is saved by the prefect who seems to be giving everyone a new chance at life. Imagine how poetic it’d be if Yuu and Idia end up getting married in the end, except now neither of them are going to die and they have the rest of their new lives together. There will be winter, but there will also be spring. The cycle of seasons will continue, but flowers will always bloom. They will always return to each other.

[tojisglazer]

Special birthday post to my #1 baby💞💞

You show your boyfriend, Toji, what a birthday truly feels like.

This one’s gonna be a long one so yk.. not proofread either I might just tweak out

Toji never celebrated his birthday. He figured if his parents never bothered, why should he? The thought lingered like a quiet ache, one he’d long since learned to forget. Plus, to him, birthdays were just a reminder that he was getting older—one year closer to death. To make matters worse, his birthday fell in winter—a season that carried the weight of horrible memories.

The biting cold always took him back to a time when he was nothing more than an outcast within his own family, shunned and treated like a burden. He could still feel the sting of their cruel words, the bruises from hands that should have protected him, and the hollow ache of being ignored as if he didn’t exist. Winter wasn’t just a season; it was a reminder of the nights he spent in the freezing dark, desperate for warmth—physical or emotional—that never came. Leaving his cursed life behind had freed him in some ways, but it had also left him utterly alone, with no one to care whether he lived or died.

However, that all melted away the moment he met you. You were the light in his life that guided him out the shadows of his past. For the first time, the cold that seemed to have a strong hold on his heart began to thaw, replaced by the warmth of your presence and the care you so freely gave. You made him feel like he finally had a place to call home—a feeling he had long convinced himself he didn’t deserve. You gave him the time to heal and the love he never realized he was missing. He dreams of making you feel as loved and cherished as you’ve made him feel, determined to be the one who protects your heart and gives you everything he never had. You gave him hope, and now all he wants is to make you feel like you’re the center of his world.

On December 31st, you find out it’s his birthday. The revelation catches you off guard, knowing how little he’s mentioned it to you. It saddens you, realizing he’s spent so many years without anyone to celebrate him. But now, you’re determined to make this one different, to show him he’s worth celebrating.

You head up to your shared bedroom and find Toji fast asleep and snug under the blankets. A soft smile spreads across your face as you take in how peaceful he looks, his usual sharp edges softened in slumber.

“Jiji…” You whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, your breath warm against his skin. Slowly, he stirred, his eyes fluttering open, the warmth of your kiss pulling him from the depths of sleep. For a moment, he just lay there, his gaze soft and unfocused, a small contented smile curling on his lips as he recognized your presence.

“Mornin’, ma,” He murmured, his voice low and raspy, the sound stirring something deep inside you. His hand slid to your waist, his touch warm and steady as he traced slow, soothing circles on your soft skin. “Five more minutes,” He added, pulling you closer until there was barely any space between you, his lips brushing softly against yours in a fleeting, tender kiss, as if to anchor himself in your presence.

“Not today, sweetheart,” You giggled, sitting up despite Toji’s annoyed groan as he tried to pull you back down. “Did you forget? It’s your birthday today!” He blinked at you, his brows knitting together, staring as if you’d suddenly grown three eyes.

Realizing it was his day today, he seemed indifferent, his expression barely shifting. Deep down, he was surprised you even remembered. Toji had never considered his birthday worth celebrating, but the way you looked at him, full of excitement and warmth, made something.. unfamiliar.. stir in his chest. He didn’t know how to feel about it—part of him wanted to brush it off, but another part, buried deep, didn’t want to ruin your mood.

“Come on—get up!” You say, tugging at his arm with all your might, ignoring the deep groans of protest coming from beneath the blanket.

“Can’t we jus’ stay n’bed, baby?” He whines, his voice muffled as he buries his face into the pillow you tried yanking away. He clung stubbornly to the edge of the mattress, like a child not wanting to leave a candy store.

“Nope,” you reply with a grin, hands on your hips, your determination unwavering. “We’re not wasting your birthday in bed.” You grab his hand again, this time bracing yourself for another round of resistance, though his half-hearted effort to stay put only makes you laugh. “Besides, I have some gifts for you!” you add, your tone light and teasing as you tug at his arm again. His groans falter for a moment, and you catch the brief flicker of curiosity in his eyes, though he quickly masks it with a huff of reluctance.

“Is it head?” He mutters, a sly smirk tugging at his lips. You gasp, smacking his bicep, which only earns a tired chuckle from him.

“Fine, fine, I’ll get up, mama.” He says, dragging himself upright, the grin still plastered on his face as he stretches lazily. Toji groaned as he rubbed his eyes, sitting on the edge of the bed with his hair sticking out in every direction. “Happy now?” he mumbled, though the corners of his mouth twitched upward as you stood in front of him, clearly pleased with yourself.

“Very,” you chirped, leaning down to press a quick kiss to his forehead. “Now, get dressed. I got a little something to show you.”

He raised a brow at you, suspicious. “Yeah? And what is that lil’ something?”

“You’ll see,” you teased, giving him a wink before disappearing into the hallway.

A short while later, Toji found himself sitting at the kitchen table, still half-asleep but now dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants. His brow furrowed as he watched you bustling around the room, a spark of energy in your every movement.

“Here,” you said, sliding a small plate in front of him. Sitting in the middle was a cupcake, frosted with a messy swirl of chocolate icing and a single candle stuck in the center. You grinned sheepishly. “I know it’s not much, but I wanted to start your day with something sweet.”

Toji stared at the cupcake, his brows furrowing. “A candle? Really?” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yes, really,” you replied, crossing your arms. “It’s tradition. Don’t act like it’s weird.”

He leaned back in his chair, exhaling sharply as his eyes flicked between you and the cupcake. “I don’t know, feels kinda stupid,” he mumbled, but the way his gaze lingered on the small dessert told you otherwise.

“It’s not stupid,” you said, leaning closer, your tone softening. “Just make a wish, baby. It’s one little moment—for me, okay?”

He sighed, still hesitant, but under your expectant gaze, he finally leaned forward. Closing his eyes briefly, he blew out the candle with a reluctant huff.

“See? That wasn’t so bad,” you teased, clapping as he shook his head with a faint smirk.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, trying to act indifferent, though the small, almost imperceptible curl of his lips betrayed him.

The next few hours were spent unwrapping gifts you had secretly hidden away over the past month. Each one was chosen with care: a sleek new jacket to replace his worn-out one, a specialized set of tools perfectly suited for his line of work—practical, efficient, and impossible to trace—and a rare vintage watch he’d once mentioned in passing but had never expected to own.

Toji held up the tools, inspecting them with sharp eyes. “These are… really high-end,” he murmured, running his fingers over the polished surface.

“Only the best for you,” you said with a grin. “I figured you could use something reliable.”

He set them down carefully, his hand lingering on the case for a moment before turning to the next gift. When he unwrapped the watch, his eyes widened slightly, and he was silent for a moment, holding the weight of it in his palm.

“How did you even—?” he started, his voice faltering as he looked at you, a mix of surprise and something deeper flickering in his expression.

“I pay attention,” you said softly, leaning against the couch beside him. “And you deserve it, Toji. All of it.”

He swallowed hard, his jaw clenching as if he were trying to hold something back. He set the watch down carefully on the table and leaned back, rubbing a hand over his face. For a moment, you thought he might say something, but instead, a soft, broken sound escaped his lips.

“Toji?” you whispered, concern lacing your voice.

He shook his head, his hands falling to his lap as his shoulders began to tremble. Tears slid down his cheeks, quiet and steady, as if he couldn’t stop them even if he tried. He turned his head slightly, as though ashamed for you to see him like this.

“I don’t deserve this,” he choked out, his voice raw and cracked. “I’ve done… so many things. I don’t deserve you.”

Your heart ached as you reached for him, cupping his face gently and wiping his tears with your thumbs. “Hey,” you murmured, your voice tender. “You do, Toji. You deserve love, happiness, everything. You’ve carried so much alone for so long, but you don’t have to anymore. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

His forehead dropped to your shoulder as a fresh wave of tears overtook him. His arms wrapped tightly around your waist, holding you as if you were the only thing keeping him grounded. You stroked his hair, whispering soothing words as his grip on you tightened.

For what felt like an eternity, he clung to you, letting years of pain, guilt, and loneliness pour out in your embrace. When he finally pulled back, his red-rimmed eyes met yours, vulnerability written across every feature of his face.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, still thick with emotion.

“You’ll never have to find out,” you replied softly, resting your forehead against his. “You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not.”

A broken laugh escaped him, and he closed his eyes, his arms tightening around you as though you might slip away. “I think I can live with that,” he murmured, his voice steadier now but still holding a fragile edge.

“Good,” you murmured, letting your lips brush against the corner of his mouth, right where his scar marked his skin, a silent promise in the gesture. “Because I’m here to stay. Always.”

He exhaled deeply, leaning into you with a vulnerability he rarely showed, and for the first time in years, he allowed himself to trust—to believe in this moment, in you, and maybe even in the possibility of something better.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO TOJI AND TO EVERYONE WHOS BIRTHDAY IS TODAY🥰🥰🥰

[perfectsunlight]

I BET YOU THINK ABOUT ME - JISOO

kim jisoo x reader

word count: 3.5k

warnings: implied age-gap, class disparities, isolation, belittling, emotional manipulation, mentioned breakup.

synopsis: despite being broken up, you bet your wealthy ex-girlfriend still thinks about you.

there were many things you enjoyed about dating kim jisoo. the way her laughter could light up a room, soft but knowing, like she was in on a joke no one else understood. how her touch was always delicate—calculated, even—as if everything she laid her hands on was an extension of the control she had over the world around her.

but her wealth and status? no, those were never the reasons you stayed.

even now, walking down the narrow, cobblestone streets where red and gold leaves scattered beneath your feet, you couldn’t help but be swallowed by memories of her. the crisp autumn air bit at your skin, a sharp reminder of the past, tugging at your thoughts like the wind tugged at your coat. it was in this season that jisoo had always seemed to glow brightest. her beauty matched the fall—effortless, rich, like a vintage painting come to life. she was untouchable.

however, she was just as cruel.

you just didn’t realize it at the time. how her perfectly manicured fingers—always cold to the touch, always adorned with rings that shimmered in the dying autumn light—had dug deep, not into your skin, but into your spirit. each time she mentioned your "quaint" lifestyle, your "charming" lack of understanding about the finer things in life, it had been wrapped in a velvet glove of affection, so you hardly noticed the sting at first.

it had felt like walking through the falling leaves, admiring the beauty, unaware that winter was creeping closer, ready to strip everything bare.

she had always made sure you knew she was from another world—one where silk sheets were the norm, where every meal came with a waitstaff and a glass of wine you could hardly pronounce. her apartment had been like a showroom, sterile and pristine, with floor-to-ceiling windows that stretched out over the city like a kingdom she ruled from above. and you, standing in the middle of it all, had felt small.

but now, in the aftermath, you could see how she had looked at you, like a pet project. an amusing distraction.

you remember the last dinner you shared at some restaurant you couldn’t pronounce, where the chandeliers above flickered against the dim light and the leaves outside the window swirled like some gilded snowstorm. she had ordered for you without asking, her voice as smooth and cool as the autumn breeze that crept into the cracks of your jacket.

"it’s adorable," she had said, waving her hand dismissively at your confusion when the plates arrived, "how little you know about this. really. it’s sweet."

at the time, you’d laughed it off, sipping the wine that burned your throat more than it soothed. but now you realize how sharp her words had been, each one a blade wrapped in silk.

the holiday parties were even worse.

you’d always felt out of place, like an actor in the wrong movie, wandering through rooms filled with people who looked like they belonged in some old-world painting. there were always murmurs of stocks and art auctions, people in tailored suits that hung off them like armor. you, in your off-the-rack blazer, had felt like an imposter. but jisoo, with her arm linked loosely through yours, had moved through the crowd effortlessly, her smile cold and practiced, like she knew every secret and every face in the room.

the air inside was thick with perfume and candlelight, but it never warmed you. outside, through the towering windows of the penthouse venues, you could always catch glimpses of the world you belonged to—the same city, but miles away, where people didn’t wear silk scarves that cost more than your rent or talk about vacation homes in hushed, reverent tones. the autumn leaves that still clung to the trees seemed desperate, the last few hanging on in the icy wind. much like you had been, clinging to jisoo’s side, pretending not to notice the subtle, cutting remarks she’d make about your clothes, your taste in music, your background.

"you know," she’d say in that breathy, disinterested tone of hers, eyes scanning the room like a queen surveying her subjects, "maybe next time you could wear something… a little more appropriate for the occasion?"

the words had stung, but you’d smiled, nodding like you hadn’t just been dressed down in front of people who already looked at you like you were her charity case. you’d downed your drink, hoping the burn of it would distract from the ache in your chest, while jisoo had already moved on, laughing airily at some joke from a man whose name you couldn’t remember, but whose disdainful eyes stayed with you long after the night was over.

at those parties, she’d always introduce you the same way: “this is y/n.”

nothing more, nothing less. like you were just another accessory—another piece of her perfectly arranged life. your name alone always hung in the air, stiff and formal, with no affection behind it. 

it was a title, not a connection.

but the way she spoke about herself was different. she was kim jisoo, daughter of one of the wealthiest families in seoul, a woman who everyone admired but no one truly knew. she never missed a chance to remind people of her lineage, of her success, of the places she’d been that you could only dream of. you’d stand there, smiling politely, the outsider in your own relationship, as she charmed the room with stories of her luxury trips to europe or some exclusive party she’d attended.

you used to tell yourself that maybe this was just her world—one you didn’t quite understand but could learn to navigate. after all, you thought, love was supposed to be about growing, about adapting to each other. but now, looking back, you see it differently. you hadn’t been adapting. you had been erasing yourself.

you remember the first time you’d seen her living room—everything about it had been a display of understated opulence. the couch, soft and inviting, had been custom-made in italy, a piece of furniture that cost more than you’d make in a year. the kind of thing you wouldn’t even dare to sit on without an invitation.

she’d caught you staring at it once, your fingers brushing lightly over the velvety surface, as if afraid you’d leave some permanent mark on it.

“do you like it?” she’d asked, her tone casual, almost playful, as she kicked off her shoes. organic shoes, she’d said—handcrafted by a designer who only used sustainably sourced materials, each pair worth thousands. she’d tossed them carelessly to the side, as if they were nothing more than an afterthought.

“it’s beautiful,” you’d breathlessly answered, unsure of how to respond. what else could you say? the couch was more than a place to sit. it was a symbol of everything that separated you from her.

the older woman had smiled, that knowing little smile of hers, and settled onto the couch, curling her legs beneath her. “it should be,” she’d replied, her voice laced with a subtle arrogance. “it cost a fortune. but you can’t put a price on comfort, can you?”

at the time, you’d nodded, sitting beside her, careful not to spill the coffee you’d brought from a café that seemed almost comically out of place in her world of curated luxury. but now, looking back, you realize how much weight that moment held.

the couch, the shoes, the apartment—it was all part of the same narrative. jisoo’s life was meticulously designed, every element perfectly placed to reflect her status. even her so-called love of organic, sustainable products wasn’t about caring for the earth; it was about showing the world that she could afford to care. it was another layer of the image she presented, another way to remind you that you didn’t quite belong.

the shoes—those ridiculously expensive shoes—had been one of the first things you’d noticed about her. how she would glide through the city in them, effortlessly chic, while you tried to keep up in your well-worn sneakers. how she never seemed to care about the price tag, because to her, money wasn’t something you worried about. it was something you had. something you displayed.

you remember asking her about them once, marveling at their craftsmanship, at the intricate details stitched into the leather. “they’re nice, right?” she’d said, almost bored with the conversation. “made by a small artisan. i like supporting brands that are more...conscious. but it’s not just about the shoes, you know? it’s about a lifestyle.”

at the time, you’d nodded along, impressed by her philosophy, thinking there was something admirable about her commitment to sustainability. but now, with the clarity that only distance can bring, you see it differently. it wasn’t about responsibility or caring for the environment—it was about exclusivity. 

jisoo didn’t just buy things; she bought status. and as a result, she never let you forget where you came from.

she didn’t need to say it outright; her silences were louder than any words. the way her gaze would graze over your simple gifts, a flash of disappointment quickly masked by a too-sweet smile. the way her laughter, always so soft and melodic to anyone else, would carry a sharp edge when she’d point out how "cute" your attempts to impress her were. every look, every gesture, had been a reminder: you would never be enough.

and the holidays only magnified the divide between you. her family gatherings were a spectacle—elegant, with a quiet kind of opulence, but they were colder than the snow beginning to fall outside. conversations were distant, sterile, filled with politeness and half-meant compliments. you’d watch as jisoo’s mother raised an eyebrow at you, a polite but questioning smile on her lips, while her father barely acknowledged your presence at all, too engrossed in conversations about business acquisitions and real estate.

you remember the first time you had brought her home to meet your family. the warmth in the room had been undeniable, even if the house had been modest. the table was small, the plates mismatched, and the wine was cheap, but there had been laughter. real, full-bodied laughter, the kind that left your cheeks flushed. but jisoo had sat there, stiff and out of place, a polite smile frozen on her lips as she delicately picked at her food. she had said all the right things, but you could tell—she didn’t belong in your world, just as you didn’t belong in hers.

and after that night, she’d never come back. not once.

"it’s not my kind of environment," she’d said, as if your family home was some quaint little corner of a forgotten world. but you hadn’t pushed it. you’d just smiled, hoping that love would eventually smooth out the rough edges between your lives.

but it never did.

your image of her entirely changed once she launched her own dior collaboration.

the transformation was undeniable. jisoo had always been poised, elegant, and out of reach, but when her dior collaboration was announced, it was as if she ascended to another level entirely—a world you never truly belonged to. the moment you saw her in those campaign ads, draped in luxury from head to toe, with that distant, unreadable expression in her eyes, you realized something had shifted. it wasn’t just the clothes or the brand—it was her.

the once subtle differences between you were now glaring. she’d always had a way of making you feel small, of making the simplest moments feel like they were being measured against some invisible standard. but now, with the world’s eyes on her, she no longer had to hide it. she wore her superiority like couture, and her status was no longer just an undercurrent in your relationship—it was the defining feature.

you remember scrolling through your phone that first day the campaign was released, seeing her everywhere—billboards, social media, magazines. her image was iconic, flawless, unattainable. the woman in those pictures wasn’t the same person you once loved, or perhaps she was, and you had simply refused to see it. the jisoo in dior was the one the world adored: polished, elegant, and untouchable. and the jisoo you had known—the one who laughed with you on lazy sundays, who curled up next to you in bed with soft whispers—felt like a figment of your imagination.

that night, you sat in your apartment, surrounded by the faint scent of coffee and fallen leaves, watching her face appear on the tv during yet another interview. the host praised her for her taste, her grace, and asked how it felt to be a global ambassador for such a prestigious brand. jisoo smiled that small, practiced smile, the kind that could melt an audience but had always left you feeling cold.

“it’s an honor, truly,” she said, her voice as smooth as ever. “i’ve always been drawn to the finer things in life, and working with dior is the perfect alignment of that vision.”

drawn to the finer things. those words echoed in your mind long after the interview ended. it wasn’t that she loved the finer things—anyone could—but the way she lived for them, the way they seemed to define her, made you realize just how different you were.

the last time you saw her in person, it was the tail end of last fall, the leaves almost entirely stripped from the trees, the sky a muted shade of gray. you’d met for coffee, though it felt more like a final performance than a reunion. she had walked in, dressed head-to-toe in dior, effortlessly chic in her monochromatic outfit, the click of her heels on the hardwood floor echoing like some distant reminder of all the ways she had outgrown you.

she hadn’t even taken off her sunglasses, those oversized black lenses that concealed any hint of vulnerability. the moment she sat down, you knew—this was the end.

“i’m heading to paris for fashion week,” she had said casually, as if she were talking about a trip to the grocery store. “things have been busy.”

you remember nodding, unsure of what to say, feeling the weight of the unspoken words between you. there was no warmth in her gaze, no familiarity in her voice. the woman sitting across from you was a stranger, more concerned with her schedule, her image, her empire, than with you.

when you finally found your voice, all you could manage was, “i’m happy for you.” it sounded hollow, even to your own ears.

she had smiled—an empty, fleeting gesture. “thanks. it’s good to hear you say that.” her leaving behind the scent of her designer perfume felt more symbolic than it probably should have,

that’s when you knew—there was nothing left of what you once had. 

the girl you had fallen in love with was gone, replaced by someone who only cared for power, prestige, and perception. and as the autumn wind howled outside, rattling the windows of the café, you realized you weren’t mourning the loss of her, but the version of her you had once believed in.

jisoo wasn’t just a woman anymore. she was a brand. a symbol. a masterpiece crafted by the very world she belonged to. and you? you were simply a chapter in her rise to the top, forgotten as soon as the ink dried.

you didn’t date kim jisoo for her wealth. 

you dated her for the way she seemed to know the world in a way you never could—confident, poised, above it all. you thought that maybe, by loving her, you could somehow touch that world too. but love wasn’t what had tied you together. not really.

it had been power.

she loved the way you looked at her, like you were eternally trying to catch up. the way you stumbled over the names of her favorite designers, or blinked in confusion when she mentioned some art exhibit you hadn’t even heard of. she loved the control. and you—god, you had loved her for it. back then, you thought it was awe. now you see it for what it was: submission.

but there, in the middle of the bustling autumn streets, as you watch the leaves scatter across the pavement in a dance as fleeting as your relationship, you find yourself wondering—does she think about you?

does she ever sit in that apartment of hers, surrounded by luxury and untouched by the season, and wonder what it would be like to be less than perfect? does she ever close her eyes and picture the messier parts of love, the parts she could never let herself fall into?

you smile bitterly, pulling your coat tighter around yourself. maybe she does.

maybe, even now, as you wander through the city you had once explored together, her mind drifts to you—the one person who had never fit neatly into the frame of her perfectly curated life. maybe she remembers how, despite everything, you were never quite small enough to be molded. 

and maybe, just maybe, in her moments of silence, with her designer bags and high-rise views, she thinks about how she’ll never find someone quite like you again. someone who saw her for more than just the polished surface she presented to the world. someone who, despite it all, had loved her—flaws, cruelty, and all.

the wind howls, scattering more leaves into the air, and you watch as they swirl and disappear. there’s a certain beauty to the way things fall apart, you realize. a kind of freedom in it.

jisoo might not know that, but you do. however, your mind refused to let you rest.

it was 3 am, and you were still wide awake. the cold light of your phone screen cast shadows on the walls of your tiny apartment, worlds away from the penthouse where jisoo was probably fast asleep. you imagined her there, wrapped in those luxurious silk sheets, her breath steady, undisturbed by thoughts of you. in her city. the one that always felt a little brighter, a little shinier than yours. a place you never quite belonged.

your mind wandered, picturing her with someone new. someone from her world. the kind of girl who knew all the right names to drop at fancy dinners, who could wear those thousand-dollar organic shoes without feeling like an imposter. a girl with a perfect pedigree, someone who her friends probably thought was “better” than you. you could almost hear them whispering it, their voices low but full of certainty.

it wasn’t long ago that you had tried to fit into those circles. you’d been the outsider, awkward and out of place in jisoo’s world of high-society dinners and private parties. but you tried, back when love made you brave, when you thought if you just held her hand tight enough, the rest would fall into place.

they let you sit at the table, once. out of courtesy, or maybe because you were still attached to her arm like an accessory she wasn’t ready to give up. you’d laugh when they laughed, your smile tight as they sat around talking about the meaning of life, throwing around names of philosophers and books you’d never heard of.

“the book that just saved me,” one of them had said, casually, like it was a known fact that certain books saved people. you’d smiled and nodded, even though the title flew right over your head, another reminder of how little you belonged.

jisoo had glanced at you then, her eyes softening in the way they sometimes did when she noticed you struggling. she squeezed your hand under the table, like she used to when you were still hers, when you thought her world was one you could live in.

but that was before. before the doubts crept in, before the weight of her world pressed down on you. now, it felt like she’d moved on, maybe even found someone who fit in effortlessly where you never could. someone who didn’t have to pretend.

you rolled over, the silence of your room closing in, and you couldn’t help but wonder if she was asleep now, completely at peace. and if the girl in her bed had the right name, the right look, and could keep up with her friends when they talked about art and life and all the things that always seemed just out of your reach.

the thought made your chest ache, that deep, familiar loneliness that always seemed to come with thinking about her. about them. those nights when you sat in the background, silently wishing you could be enough. but no matter how much you tried, you could never quite silence the feeling that jisoo’s friends were always comparing you to someone else, someone better.

and tonight, even though you knew it was pointless, you couldn’t stop wondering if they were telling her that the new girl was everything you never could be. or maybe jisoo was out at one of those cool indie concerts she dragged herself to every week, trying to feel young, trying to prove she was still part of the scene, even though she didn’t belong there any more than you did. it was always about feeling cooler than she actually was, pretending she wasn’t inching further from the age of the crowd around her.

but even with her friends laughing by her side, pretending to be someone else, you knew the truth. 

“i bet you think about me.”

[mrspeechless]

She could have sworn she heard it again. The familiar sound of footsteps trampling carpets of autumn leaves just outside of her window. How many seasons had gone by with that distinct crunch blocked out, barred from existence, as disregardable white noise? But to the world outside of the damnably insulated walls of her home it was her existence that struggled to be noticed.

The muscles of her neck, despite their dull constant ache, heaved up her head in a struggle that made the task look herculean. Her left cheek, swollen above her gag, was a tad damp from the wet splotch on the rug she'd been sobbing into. Her back arched slightly into the tension of her cruelly diligent hogtie, allowing her lungs to siphon air in deeper measure through a pair of flared nostrils. If someone, anyone, was walking by she needed them to hear her.

For a half-step her eyes, stung red by tears, blinked closed as the collection of air in her chest wound itself in a dense bubble. Her eyes flew open once more as all that precious oxygen was blasted like cannonfire out of her chest, a grapeshot of noise filtered through exhausted and strained vocal chords. From her perspective that scream was like dragon's breath, a shrill and horrible cry that under any other circumstance could have laid waste to a small village of innocents. But this dragon was muzzled, and the barrier of her gag once again kept her fiery shouts for salvation tucked in the bowels of her throat, penetrating the seemingly indomitable walls of her gag in meek, stifled bleats more befitting of a lost lamb.

Indeed this gag was her mortal enemy. The very same pair of cozy socks she always wore to fend off the chills of upcoming winter months had been unceremoniously seized from her feet, bundled together, and rammed deep into her mouth. The unwanted intrusion was like a dense boulder that only grew heavier over the hours of uncontrollably salivating against the sordid laundry. She yearned with every tear that rolled down the surface of her gag for the relief of being able to rest the expended and weary muscles of her jaw.

The gag's true malevolence, however, was made manifest in the bands of microfoam that clutched round her head like a python squeezing the life from its latest catch. Her captor seemed intent to fuse it to her flesh in the way that the gagging tape felt glued like a second skin over her swollen cheeks and uncontrollably spread lips. The sensation of it all, thick articles invading and plugging the entirety of her mouth and cruel clutches of sealed bandaging smothering an entire half of her face, working in vicious orchestration to deny her a right once believed to be inalienable. In doing so her monstrous gag maintains her victimhood as those footsteps continue to crush fallen leaves along the path away from her home. What followed could be unceremoniously classified as a tantrum if the consequences were not so dire. Her body writhed in desperate spasms against stalwart ropework. Her limbs ached and her joints chafed, but the barely audible squeals that filtered through the shield of tape came not because of pain. Frustration, fear, anger, all loaded into the barrel of her heart and discharged fiercely into the small bubble of space she could wriggle around in. Shivers that attempted to manifest at the memory of how his hands touched her body, and uncomfortable clamminess of his hot breath whispering his degenerate intentions in her ear, were repurposed into raging and desperate tugs at the hogtie that bent her figure so wickedly. Exhaustion would take her with nothing of substance to show for it. Just like before the muscles in her neck give in. Her head lays flat on its side, the flesh of her cheek acquainting itself to the familiar damp spot on the rug. She clutches her eyes shut tightly, but cannot stop them from contributing to that dampness with yet another pitifully defeated sob.

[thesharktanksdriver]

The strongest star (platonic)

This is determination from Whitebeard’s point of view when y/n met him and his crew. I decided to make this to flesh out my first post and also thought it would be fun since y/n is kinda an unreliable narrator in their own way due to forgetting a lot of details and events.

Master-list for the series here

Tag list: @peachsuka28 @emptynessinmyworld @badluckinfrench @j-s-l-m @tigerfang-rage @madokamagicaa @rymtea @angstylittleb1tch @badluckinfrench @emmbny @kenkenmaaa @yunho-leeknow @chibiduck

for as long as Edward Newgate could remember, he wanted a family

As unconventional as it had seemed he had always dreamed of a family of his own

That was his dream that led him to the sea all those years ago

The freedom to pursue and accomplish this with the oceans cruel and caring waves

He’s old now, a man accomplished and still having his family grow

So when Marco brings a small child aboard Newgate can’t help but be a bit giddy

It’s been years since the Moby dick had such a young one aboard its old planks

He remembers like yesterday it once did

Children he found bruised and starved, cold and alone with eyes begging for warmth and comfort despite how scared they were

He was once like that, and he swore he’d not abandon those kids like others did for him

Those children grew up now to be some of his many kids

Years heavy on them as they are for him

He watched them grow from scared to proud and strong

And most of all he watched them grow to be happy with the family harboured on a couple planks of wood on the high sea

Each night rocked by the waves with full bellies and a smile on their faces

So it’s safe to say he is hopeful when Marco marches up, carrying a small child of about 10?

The youngest on the ship as of now was Ace and a few from the spade pirates that assimilated to his crew

But he hadn’t raised them, Moreso taken them in and not having the opportunity to truly nurture them in the way he had wanted

They were teens, a fraction of their lives already lived which meant he missed out on significant moments of it

He hadn’t been able to meet Ace’s brothers or be sure to in-still in him that he’s loved

Hadn’t been able to convince spade that he was more than what everyone in his home thought of him

As an old nostalgic man Newgate missed the feeling of being there for something important like that again

And he thought for a moment he could have that again until he noticed your eyes

He’s seen the terrified, angry and hopeless that looked up at him once before

Most of his sons whom he took under his wing had a variation of that when meeting him

But yours are….something else

He’s reminded of the night sky

A sight that he’s been more than familiar with his entire life as he looked to the stars and wished for people to call home

Despite just being eyes he sees more

Bleak empty darkness, swirling with the unknown with the distant twinkling flecks of stars

They are all encompassing and unassuming at the same time

Pits of dullness that shows the withered age that only a seasoned sailor could have amongst the cruel waves

A loss of innocence and all that a child should have

Yet at the same time somehow retains some of it despite it all

It’s conflicting and hypocritical all at the same time yet it’s there all the same

Those eyes stare up at him, no fear but instead apprehension fills its place

If nothing before could have convinced him that he wanted you apart of his family than this did

But he’s known from the moment you stepped foot on this ship he wanted you to have a home here either way

On the Moby dick you start off as a quiet presence that later grows into something bigger

Perhaps even bigger than yourself as the his sons and daughters seek out your company like moths to a flame

He can’t exactly blame them, not when he himself wants so desperately to grasp and hold that light

But he sees your apprehension when around him

The way in which you try to skirt around his presence as best as possible

Something you do exceedingly well

So Edward for your sake decides to take a seat back and watch what happens

Waits to see you ease up on your own time

God knows the amount of patience he has from dealing with Roger all those years ago and his rowdy kids

So he knows when to back down and let the stage set itself

Watch the act before his role is to come

And Edward does exactly that

He watches and waits

Eddie watches as you draw the crew in like a gravitational pull

It’s slow at first

Your cautious but you let your guard down

At first it’s with Marco

Being the one to take you onboard he decides that your his responsibility and take to it like the mother hen that he is

Seeing you inured stumbling out an alleyway really hit him hard

Perhaps harder than you had even noticed

It gets worse especially after you seem to brush off your injuries

He hovers around you a lot under the excuse of checking your wounds but you seem to know better

You always seem to know better

But either way you don’t say anything and simply grumble a bit about him

Moreso out of annoyance than actual disdain

But either or, Whitebeard watches as his first commander stays by your side

Eventually getting you to drop some of your barriers ever so slightly

Like the chipping in a wall that would lead to a crack

You talk and Marco listens

As do others who eventually join in on listening to some of your stories as you sit between the rails of the railing

Feet dangling through the gaps and swaying back and fourth as you tell stories

Everyone listens

Some even stop in their trail just trying to hear what you tell Marco as he similar sits beside you

Clawed feet of his half Phoenix form and firey blue wings tinged in gold crackling gently

The real breakdown comes when he offers to fly you around

Everyone can see something in you ignite at that

Genuine excitement only caused by child-like wonder

It’s one of the only times on your stay he had seen it

The child buried beneath whatever had happened to you peaking out from the brush

This was a good sign

One that Edward is glad to see himself as you soar with Marco

Blue flames giving you warmth even with the cold harsh winds

When you eventually land once more Edward can’t help but smile at the surpassingly content expression painting your face

That crack in your defence grows

The next to chip away at that metaphorical wall is Thatch

The cook quickly making his ways into your good graces when he has you help about in his kitchen

You seemingly can’t really stay still, mind always racing and wanting to do something

Never taking the time to relax

Thatch says you take to tasks quickly, finishing as quick as you started much to his surprise and exasperation

Whitebeard laughed at that at the time

So you were quick to pick up things

Knowing tasks like the back of your hand no matter how big or small

He’s also seen it, when you gave some of his sons tips in raising the sails or properly cleaning the deck quicker

Thatch won’t admit it to anyone but himself but Whitebeard knows he cooks more food for you than he’d usually would for someone on the ship

Even when Ace or Teach hound him for more food he angrily shoves them off

Then filling your plate once more

Thatch is the one who tells him of the time you cried eating his meals

Mumbling that it reminded you of her

Your mom

Apparently you don’t remember her anymore

Just the vaguest scent of her meals and a glimmer of a smile she would give when cooking

It….sticks with Eddy more than he’d like to admit

Forgetting was an unfortunate thing that came with time

Whitebeard considered himself lucky in not forgetting much over his years

He still remembers the loneliness of his childhood

The bloodshed and alienation on Rocks’s crew

Going off to make his family after the god valley incident

Recruiting his many sons

Finding some cold and alone while others sought him out as a father

Remembers when he first met the idiot he’d call a rival

How Oden would eventually become his little brother and hearing years later of his death by Kaido

The guilt still weighing on his shoulders even now

So in every sense of the word Eddy considers himself lucky in being able to remember

But you don’t have that same privilege

Your memory fraught with missing pieces

Leaving you trailing off for a moment as you regal a story that leaves everyone on deck listening intently

They all notice that you stare off quite often while doing something

Your mind wandering to whatever is it that your thinking of

Sometimes you even mumble to yourself

Though Eddy is never close enough to hear the mumbles others sometimes mention them to him

Names and places

Dates and times

Events and descriptions

But one thing brought up is something that raises his eyebrow

Things only the Roger pirates could’ve know or seen

He already suspected something when seeing the coat draped across your shoulders

You may think your slick in thinking he didn’t recognize that old thing but Eddie knows better

He’d known Roger far too long and arduously to not recognize his gaudy red coat (hypocrite a voice in the void cry’s out)

When his frien….rival was executed he had noticed the coat he wore was different

A darker red and cheaper material

But at the time he gave no thought to it

To wrapped up in a certain kind of grief to really think twice

But now that coat is on your shoulders

Pristine rose red contrasted with the cyan blue of your bandana and cloth sash

You couldn’t have known Roger, your too young to do so

Plus that idiot had two apprentices not three

So that option was x’d out the list

As him and his commanders talked

But you being a kid of one of his members was certainly a possibility

And the only one Edward could ever imagine Roger giving his coat to was Rayleigh and he had essentially dropped off the map years ago

So the conclusion that your maybe Rayleigh’s kid and that he was potentially dead was the conclusion drawn

It’s safe to say that it is something that weighs on not only his commanders mind but also Edwards

Because of the similar situation to Ace

The only other person you had tried to avoid on this crew for some reason

But maybe you somehow knew of his origin and that’s why? But even that seemed unlikely

Roger could keep his lips shut when the situation called for it

Something that he now praised his dead friend for

But on the topic of Ace…it was odd

You avoided Ace like the plague

Whitebeard understood why you avoided him, the giant who was named the strongest man in the world and feared in all blues

But Ace? He was practically a puppy vying for your attention after seeing you interact with literally everyone but him

He’d never thought he’d see his son who’d used to be like a snippy stray dog now practically begging for attention

But here he was

Well, more like they were since literally everyone else on ship it’s finding this all too hilarious

But also kinda sad

It’s not like they’d force you to get along with him if there had been a solid reason

But seemingly there was none

You just avoided him for whatever reason

Jittering in discomfort and leaving when you saw his signature orange hat

And they’d thought it would remain like this

But like all else Whitebeard sees things change

(Just as he saw the sea change when Roger died and ushered a new era)

The final piece to break down that barrier of yours is Ace

The one besides Whitebeard himself you had been the most barred against

It starts with a small conversation

And then on deck he sees both you and ace talk more

And more

And eventually Ace is placing you on his shoulders with his hat on your head

Or taking you out on striker as the smaller boat races around the Moby Dick

It’s a sight for sore eyes

Ace once again lighting up like a bright flame

The same happiness restrained for when talking of his brothers

Or of that person who had given him the small charm he covets as if it were the greatest treasure

Something he had been initially teased for until revealing its story

The small worn down little sun dangling from his wrist representing someone who he wanted to find once more

To thank for caring for him despite his bloodline

Because Ace saw himself as a blotch on the world rather than a blessing

It was something that Ace had hid well but as his father Edward could see the conflict in his eyes

He Tried his best to resolve it but it had yet to go away

But when Ace talks of the Brothers made over a sip of sake, a small sun charm and now seemingly you

It seems for a moment to melt away

Like the strongest of metal being smelted before hardening once more

So Edward watches in amusement as Ace lets you hang from his arm

Or how his son tries his best to seemingly impress your young eyes with tricks of blazing flames

Ace doesn’t seem to notice though that anything he seems to do leaves a proud look in your eyes

But Eddie does

Whitebeard can’t place as to why but he decides to leave it

Simply enjoying his new child and Ace bonding as if they had knew each other for years

The flame brazen boy igniting excitedly like a match as your smaller hands find his and dance to the drunken shanty music

Singing songs you seem to know and regard with an almost melancholy smile as Binks Booze begins to play

Only giving more evidence to your possible heritage

And then you eventually approach Eddie himself

The fearless Whitebeard, strongest man in the world

Golden yellow eyes staring back down towards yours that reflected a starry night

He asks you about your family in which you answer vaguely

Though he expect no less of an answer he notices that the way you explain it is practiced

And despite how practiced it is it leaves him dealing down worry

You’d been on your own for a decent amount of time now

Just seemingly drifting from how you described it

No one but yourself and the sea to keep you company

Only the clothes on your back and small mementos from travels to carry on with you

Whitebeard ponders who the “friends” you’d made along the way but you don’t say names often

Just nicknames

Sneaky but he’s raised enough rebellious boys to see past all the tricks

You change conversation but Edward allows it

Instead you ask him questions, something no one would usually dare to do when being questioned from him

He’d have to admit you have some guts for a kid

Typically he’d call people who did something like that a brat but he lets it slip this one time

And he answers your questions

If only to try and ease you into seeing that he is more than just the epithet of strongest man

That first and foremost he’s a father and perhaps he could be one to you

But instead you inquired about Roger

Another itch to prove your perhaps Rayleigh’s child

So Whitebeard answers truthfully talking about the man he once considered friend

To be honest Edward never really knew how to quite characterize his and Roger’s relationship

On one hand Roger was a man that Edward had respected deeply. Someone who was not only equal in power but also in kindness

God Roger was so stupidly nice to just about everyone as long as you didn’t somehow anger him

But On the other hand Roger was one of the stupidest men alive

Running head first into a battle with nothing prepared

Roger and him were both Friends and Rivals all at the same time

Along with being two sides of a coin

Men who loved more passionately than anyone else

Men who’d do anything to protect all that they loved even if it killed them

In some sense Whitebeard knows he should be happy in being the “victor” in their rivalry yet he’s not

Because they never did settle a score because there was no score to settle

And Eddie no matter how hard he���d try to deny it missed that goof

For as annoying as he was he was equally charming

Something that was infuriating

Because of course Eddie had to become friends with that man

Of course Roger had to go and get himself killed

And it’s Eddie who’s left to mourn

Eddie who’s left to watch the world change and grow old

Eddie is always the one left standing

And it’s there with that you ask him about mourning and how he deals with it

And Edward can’t help but give a pitied stare

A child should not know grief

A child should not know how to mourn

And yet you do

You always seemed to know something your not supposed to

A thing both equally dangerous to you as it is others

……geez you really must be Rayleigh’s kid

Whitebeard smiles, looking down to the coat hung heavy on your shoulders

For a moment he sees Roger there, smiling at him as usual

He tells you that even when someone is gone they leave bits of themselves in the world

Eyes subtly glancing towards a distracted Ace and Izou who listens nearby

Their presence still lingering in all those that they touched by literal and metaphorical

Because when someone leaves you they never really do

They change you

Mold you into the person you are and could become wether that be good or bad

Because Whitebeard despite knowing Oden and Roger are gone can still feel their presence on this ship

The splinters from when battling Roger as he was flung onto the Moby dick

The room in which Oden carved his name in the wood along with Toki’s within the shape of a heart

Sees glimmers of Roger shining through Ace and his firey temper along with his compassion

Watches Izou mumble under his breath about how Oden would have loved to have been on this adventure

Those 3 sake cups still sit in Edwards office

Below a collection of objects and photos of all his lost children

He still mourns them

As any father would

Still wonders if they would forgive him for falling them

But when he does so he remembers their still there

Their fingerprints engraved on a old grizzled heart

At hearing this you nod, pulling that old coat on your shoulders closer

As if someone was hugging you through its luxurious red cloth

His words have seemed to have comforted you and he’s glad

Perhaps even lifting some of the grief off your chest

If so Edward is happy

Because a child should know no grief

And he’d like to change that

Would like to remold your melancholy little heart back to what it should be

That of a happy child

He and his children itch to ask you to stay

But even when Marco offers you a room here

Or when Ace just straight up asks you to stay

You always reply the same way

That like the sea herself you are untethered

Maybe one day you’d find a place but for now you must keep drifting

You have people to meet

Friends you call family to see once more

Everyone here wishes for you to stay

Some ask their father to perhaps to pull the same thing they had pulled with Ace

But Whitebeard doesn’t relent on wanting you to join by your choice

Even when he feels his will want to crack when one night after talking with you under the starry night you fell asleep in his palm

Curled up and small as he feels small tears drip down and pool beside you

Or when it wants to crack even more when he catches you one night in the crows nest singing

The almost haunting sound echoing and reverberating across the ship

The Moby herself sitting at your side, her Klabautermann joining you in song

Or the almost final blow when he realizes that you breath new life in the ship without even knowing it

It’s unseen by your eyes but Whitebeard knows his sons and his ship enough to know when it’s more lively than usual

How your words capture them

He’s watched as you sat atop a barrel telling tales and seeing everyone huddle around you like ducks

Pausing in their duties or even sitting down to ask questions or for you to elaborate more

Grown men and women enraptured by stories of the sea and all its beauty

Even he himself couldn’t help but find himself entranced by your words

The way in which you tell them all are too detailed as to not be true

But Whitebeard does not relent

Does not stop in his judgement no matter how hard it will be to let you go back on that dinky little ship you called your own

It’s sail made of spare sheets with sewn in patches giving it splatters of colour

But when that happens Whitebeard promises to throw you a grand goodbye

Promises that when you do come back they’d have a room ready

That Thatch would make food that reminded you of a once lost home again

That Marco would tend to your wounds and let you scrape the sky

And that Ace would light up with a flame of a stars intensity

But they never were able to throw that goodbye party

That party would be the next one after the one that was meant to just enjoy being with you once more without having to say goodbye

But then you decided you’d help Thatch after seeing he could barely walk in a straight line, so you paused the celebrations for yourself and went to that kitchen celler

Going to place that damned devil fruit to be locked away

But then minutes ticked by

And so Ace decides he’d go find you, saying he’d have to convince you to tell Eddie of your story about the island in the clouds

The joyful atmosphere continues

And then comes Ace’s horrified scream for Marco

Cutting through the atmosphere as the usually chipper boy runs out the kitchen with you in his arms

Bloodied little you

You sit there in Ace’s arms

Bleeding heavily from a large slashing stab that has your blood practically gushing out and into the ground along with Ace’s arms

Despite that though

Despite the pain you should be in Edward spots an oddly content look on your face

Eyes looking up towards Ace but instead of tears filling them it’s a bittersweet look

The look of I’m sorry

Ace and you sit in Edward’s palm

Your small form cradled by his sobbing son who pleads for you

Blood still fresh on his hands and now smeared across Edward’s as well

A child should never die

Let alone in someone’s arms

For they shall carry that weight of them in their arms forever

So he tells ace to lay you down in his Palm

And Ace can only do so reluctantly

Ace turns to run to Marco who’s dashing across the ship but you stop him grabbing his hand

Making his son pause

You smile despite it all, a bright and beautiful smile that rivals the sun and all stars in the sky

Then looking to his charm as you pull out a similar one nestled in that coat pocket of yours

“You found me” it comes out as a pained rasp that makes Whitebeard’s heart ache

It aches more seeing Ace’s expression

Pure grief

Just utter pure grief

Ace clutches you

Begs you not to leave

To please not leave him after finding you

To tell him who did this to you

Your eyes squint as if trying to remember, but then light up with recognition

You give a small laugh, one that makes Whitebeard go still as does Ace

“Zehahaha”

Teach….thats why he wasn’t on deck

As that happens pieces of you shatter

A bright shining gold flashing in the night sky

Sparks of starlight and stardust congregating in the air

Scattering somewhere into the sky

In a fevered state you utter a last word to Ace

Sunshine

When your gone everyone is in a stunned silence

Because what just happened

But then Whitebeard thinks

He thinks all the way back to Roger

The last time he saw Roger the bastard had gotten suddenly silent asking Eddie if he knew of a song, a myth

A star that once dead formed back once more in a new part of the sky

A song was made about it once, something from the Rumbar pirates that had long died among the waves

But then he thinks back further

Back to those 3 days and nights they had fought on that abandoned island

And then he remembers

As Roger sent him flying with a punch Eddie skidded by the Oro Jackson

And for the briefest of moments he thought he spotted something shining in the darkness of a cracked open door

More rather the peering shining eyes of someone

At the time he tried to question Roger but he was as unmoving as a stubborn horse so Eddie had left the topic

He had forgotten of that experience years later

But now it comes rushing back

As does that myth of a undying star

It seems Roger was hinting at something all along

Sly bastard

Seems you weren’t Rayleigh’s kid after all

Maybe you were more Roger’s kid than anything

But….Eddie had taken in one of Roger’s brats before

His sobbing son is evidence of that

And perhaps he will do so again

“Hmf….sly bastard. Their out there, we’ll find them again” his words are spoken with conviction as a sobbing ace looks up to him, his golden eyes soften at his sons expression “their still alive Ace, just displaced when they die. Roger rambled to me a myth about it the last time we met. A star that never died and reappeared in the sky, I thought it was nonsense but maybe he was right”

“But how-“

“Think my boy. How could they be the one who had cared for you all those years ago when they’re that young? My best guess is a devil fruit” he sees the emotions swirl in Ace’s eyes as his sons nods shakily. Hands clutching the sun charm of his bracelet and scared to let go. Edward’s eyes travel from his son to his other children, the gold that was once softened now hardening once more as anger replaced it. Teach….a son now a traitor had to be delt with.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

The Werewolf’s Bitch

Yandere Male Werewolf x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Noncon, breeding, knotting, inhuman genitals, reader eaten out, drool, piss marking, watersports, scent marking, lycanthropy, reader bitten by werewolf at end, smut, kidnapping, reader briefly stalked, general yandere behavior, yandere bully, bullied reader)  Word Count: 4.4k (Sorry that this is being reposted, I needed to edit the story and tumblr would not let me until I just deleted the whole thing, anyway, I worked extremely hard of this so I could hurry up and do more commissions, I am panicking because the window for cool season planting is nearly upon us. I normally would NOT rush to post a fic in the same day that I already posted one. I know the watersports is not everyone’s thing, but it has been a while since I wrote a fic with that kink and when I asked reader’s whether or not I should I got only positive responses, so I hope some people like this)

You were a librarian, you had always had a penchant for books, an obsession really, and you loved reading many different kinds. Right now you were reading The Bartimaeus Trilogy by Jonathan Stroud,  it was a fantasy series. It didn’t matter whether or not you liked the fantasy genre, your friend who was not super into reading kept recommending the series to you so you had to give it a shot. You were enjoying the light breeze and gentle sunshine towards the back of the park, in a lightly wooded area where the park gradually shifted into a forest. Leisurely, you continued to read until the sun just began to set. Little did you know someone was watching you from the trees. Axle hadn’t seen you in years, though it wasn’t uncommon for his thoughts to drift to you. He had a serious crush on you in high school, but so worried about his image he had not wanted to date the nerd so he bullied you instead. Relentlessly. He often thought what if he had been sweeter on you and more up front about his feelings, he’d probably have his arms wrapped around you and his cock buried deep inside you. Axle still would have picked on you, of course, it was how he showed affection and dominance, but it wouldn’t have been nearly cruel and relentless as it had been. And he would have been really sweet to you at times too, since he was sure little nerdy bookworms liked that kinda shit. His life wasn’t all bad though, he had been “afflicted” with lycanthropy. It wasn’t nearly as bad as the legends and folklore made it seem, for most people. Most were not feral and could freely change forms whenever they wished, from human, to wolf, and to the bulky hybrid form that most people thought of when they heard the word “werewolf.” There were exceptions though, some people did go feral in their wolf forms and change unwillingly during full moons. An encounter with one such creature was what had passed on the magical gift to him. Now his life was free, he lurked the woods for prey, hunted and then cooked what he had caught in a large cave he had claimed as his den. The lifestyle suited him, he could pretty much do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted, but it was a lonely existence and he wished he had a mate. Axle had been walking around, contemplating what he could do to get some friends or maybe even a lover when suddenly his nose, now hypersensitive even in his human form, picked up a familiar scent. One that he had not smelled in years but nevertheless one that he would be able to place anywhere. He had stolen whiffs of you while having you in headlocks and pushing you into lockers, had deeply inhaled the aroma of your underwear after sneaking into the locker room and stealing them whenever he was sure he wouldn’t get caught. So when he caught your wonderful smell in the breeze he bolted towards it. Just to watch, he thought to himself. And he did just watch, for a while. His eyes drank in your sight as the golden afternoon sun illuminated you so perfectly. Still such a fucking bookworm, reading all the way out here. The more he looked at you the tighter his pants got, would it really be such a bad thing if he just took you away? He could steal all the books you could want if that made you happy. You’d look so cute reading by the fire before he impaled you on his dick. It wasn’t like you could get away from him, even without his new found abilities he was faster and stronger than you could ever hope to be, but now that he was supernaturally imbued there was no chance you could ever get away from him. If you screamed it was okay, there were no witnesses around for the abduction and when he was fucking you back in his den there would be no one around for miles. He readjusted his cock in his torn jeans, fully erect at the thought. He talked himself into it. It wasn’t that hard, this may be his chance to have the future with you he had missed out on previously. You started to get up to leave, placing the book you had been reading into your backpack with the rest of your books that you planned to get through. Suddenly someone rushed out from the trees and snatched your backpack before you could put it on, running with it deeper into the forest. All you could see was their back as they ran off. Axle made sure not to run too fast because he knew you would chase him without thinking to get your precious books. “Please stop! Please! There’s nothing in there other than books! Please!” You screamed and chased the figure deep into the forest, until a chill ran through you as you looked around. You no longer recognized where you were and it was getting ever darker. Axle could have just used force to bring you this far, but he was enjoying playing with you like he used to. Just as you began to turn around and give up on the figure before you he turned around and was on you in an instant.

You recognized him immediately as you saw his face before he put his arm around your neck and licked up your neck creepily. You’d never forget who those mischievous eyes, cruel smirk, snake bite piercings and spiky punk style blond hair that was shaved at the sides belonged to.  

“A-Axle!? What the heck!? Let go! Wh-what do you want with me,” your voice was filled with fear and your eyes began to water, threatening to cry. “Well, you were in my neighborhood and I thought we could catch up~” You kept struggling in his grip, but you were winded from the chase earlier. What he said made no sense, there were no nearby homes, but you were a bit too busy to really contemplate his words. You punch and kicked at him but he just laughed like he had just heard the most hilarious joke, it would have been very insulting if being in a dark forest being manhandled by your old bully wasn’t so terrifying. Axle moved his arm around your neck then ruffled your hair, something about the gesture made you think he wasn’t out to just kill you. But then he gripped your arm tighter and started dragging you deeper into the woods. Your writhing and struggles to free yourself from his iron grasp did nothing to slow him down in the least. There was still a long way to go though, and instead of dragging you and hurting your much more delicate arms he hoisted you into his arms and slung you over his shoulder before starting to run at a speed not normal for a human. This also had the added benefit of scaring you and making you cry those adorable tears of yours. You kicked and screamed the whole time he held you, but the only thing you managed to accomplish was a severely sore throat and further exhaustion. In only a few short minutes Axle covered quite a distance with you. Not tired or out of breath at all despite the speed he ran at or the fact that he was carrying an entire adult on his shoulders. When he arrived at the cave he sat you down on a large bundle of stolen pillows, coats, blankets, and other soft materials. “W-where are we? Wh-why did you bring me here,” you asked almost unintelligibly through the hoarseness of your voice and the fear causing you to stammer. The fear you felt actually tugged a tiny bit at Axle’s heart, he just wanted to teasingly scare you, not make you all terrified. Poor little wimp. His little wimp, he thought, feeling a bit fluttery. Axle sat down beside you and roughly pulled you into his lap before caressing your arm and holding you close, in a manner he thought may be comforting. “What are you d-d-doing!? I don’t like this!” You were, understandably, immensely uncomfortable. Your former bully had his hands all over you. Did he think this was a hilarious prank? And why did he live in a cave? Was he a serial killer that lived in the woods in search of victims?? With each question your heartbeat increased.   Axle could hear your heartbeat. Still so sweet and fearful, just like you always had been~ But he didn’t want you to only associate him with fear and have a heart attack every time he held you. “Shhh, babe, shhh. It’s alright. I promise I won’t hurt you okay? I’ll keep you nice and safe~” Apparently he was not tactful enough to realize that licking and sucking at your oh so sensitive neck, was not very soothing to you. When you thrashed more and not less he got the memo and just held you close instead. There would be time for other stuff later. Right now holding you was enough, drinking in your scent like it was booze, and it was almost more intoxicating. He laid down on his side and pulled a very confused and scared you close to him once more, his arms hugging you tightly as if clinging to a life preserver. While Axle had never slept better than that night with you in his arms you stayed up until sheer exhaustion forced you into a troubled sleep. And when he woke he was so happy, he had half been worried everything had been a dream but no, you were really in his arms like you should have been for all these years. Axle wanted you to be awake so he determined that the most prudent way to wake you up was to pinch your ass. Much to his satisfaction, you woke up easily with a startled yelp, almost jolting off of the bedding. You were confused for a moment as your brain scrambled to remember where the fuck you were and why the fuck you were there instead of at home in your comfortable and familiar bed. And what had just assaulted your butt? Then the memories of the night before smacked into you like a brick wall. Axle. He had kidnapped you and spooned you all night for some unknown reason. Probably some sick prank, if he was just going to beat you up and murder you he would have done that already right? Not say all that stuff trying to comfort you before sleeping by you. Axle pulled you close and once again drew his tongue slowly up your cheek, like it was some sort of odd kiss, it creeped you out but you didn’t say anything opting instead to flinch away at his touch. “Oh come on, don’t be such a pussy, I haven’t hurt you,” he said smirking, obviously enjoying the bit of fear he caused from such a small action. “A-are you ever going to tell me why the hell you made me come here?” “What? I haven’t made you cum yet! Hahaha, I will later though.” You rolled your eyes at his juvenile joke but he just stared at you with a hungry look in his eyes that sent a shiver down your spine. “I’m serious! Wh-why am I here, this is insane and illegal! I-I’m leaving!” You started to walk towards the path that led to the cave entrance, but Axle growled in such an animal-like and primal way while stepping forward to block your path that it frightened you into remaining still. “You’re not leaving okay, nerd? You want to know why you’re here? Well it’s so I can fuck you silly and have someone to spend time with. I’m your boyfriend and you’re my property. So sit down, read your little books by the fire, and get settled because I am going to go get us some food and when I come back we are going to eat then we are going to go at it like rabbits.” You stared at him with eyes wide, now more paralyzed than ever with fear and utter bewilderment. He couldn’t be serious could he? You didn’t want that at all, this is the piece of shit that made your entire middle and high school years an absolute horror to get through. During your stunned silence he walked up to you and kissed you quickly on the lips before rushing out of the cave to search for some food. Was he stupid on top of absolutely bat shit crazy? Did he really think you were just going to stay here to be raped by him? Did he actually believe that you would be totally okay with being abducted by your former bully and you would be so enamored with him that not only would you let him put his dick anywhere you but you would also let him be your boyfriend?? Obviously that was not going to fucking happen in any way, shape, form, or fashion. You gave him a few minutes to get far away and then you gathered your bag of reading materials and headed out of the cave that Axle called home. It was too easy, luckily you remembered the general direction back to the park and began on your merry way, running as fast as your feet could carry you. Axle, though, was not really stupid. He may have been a bit of an impulsive hothead and a brute, but he was not without some intelligence. He figured you would almost certainly try to escape while he was out and about and he kept his hunt somewhat near the cave, and down wind from it. Once you left the shelter the wind quickly carried your scent right to his powerful nose. He could smell you so clearly and immediately made a beeline for your precise location. You had thought things were going well, you had put significant distance between you and the cave and were sure he would not be able to catch up to you. But you heard some rustling through the grass and a snap of twigs. You turned around and saw him coming right for you with unholy speed, Axle. Somehow he managed to close the distance between the two of you much faster than should have been possible before lunging and tackling you to the forest floor. This time you didn’t even bother struggling once he had a hold of you. Once more he slung you over his shoulder, smirking this time as you went limp, that was good. At the very least you were learning you could not fight him. Now you only had to learn you couldn’t run either. He wasn’t worried, you were a nerd after all, you would learn quickly. Before you knew it you were back in the cave, he placed you carefully on the rocky floor. You looked at him curiously wondering what he was going to do to you. He responded only with a shit eating grin. He began trying to take off your pants and clothes, and you struggled as much as you could. Which disappointed him, he thought you would have realized that he could always over power you, he had always been able to. Axle let out another beastly growl and that seemed to get the message across, this was happening. As he undid his belt you began to fear the worst, you were sitting naked below him as he was about to whip out his dick, what else could you expect to happen? You began to cry and plead for him not to rape you. He used his belt to tie up your arms before he pulled his pants down slightly. You stared at him as he stood before you with his prick aimed directly at you. Before you could figure out what he was doing he unleashed a hot stream piss all over your naked body. The smell was pungent and you gagged a bit as some of the fluid found its way into your mouth, he must have been holding it for a while because he completely drenched you. Axle had a devilish grin. “This should help remind you of your place. You are my little bitch got it? The scent will make it much easier to smell you and keep anyone else away. And I doubt you will try to scurry off without clothes.” Your abductor laughed maniacally as he emptied your books out on the table and took the bag. He placed all your clothing in it before slinging it around his back. “Be a good little weakling and wait here. Not that you have a choice,” he said as he departed. Axle made a mental note to scent mark you like that regularly, you covered in his scent made him almost lose control and breed you right then and there. But you both needed food, you were a fragile little thing he desperately wanted to take good care of and keep healthy and you would both need your energy for the all night fuck fest he had planned. Back on the floor of the cavern you were defeated, your face wet with tears and piss. You reeked of him and the fluid was becoming dry and sticky in places. This wasn’t fair, what had you done to deserve this. You never bothered anyone, you were a sweet person who just wanted to be lost in their books. You lay on that floor, stiff, stinking, and sticky for what felt like hours until Axle returned, but in reality he had only been gone around fifty or so minutes. He sauntered in with a hand that held a bundle of dead rabbits, and another hand full of foraged vegetables, fruits, and nuts. You wondered how he had caught anything. He did not seem to have any weapons or traps around. “Ah, there’s my good little bitch, I see you stayed in place for me.” Axle took his haul of food into another room of the cavern, presumably a larder or kitchen of some sort, before coming back and tending to you. He undid the belt binding your arms and was about to clean you up, but something about you stopped him. He paused and took a moment to just stare at you, so obedient, so drenched in his scent, so good for him. A perfect little mate. And a perfect mate needed to be bred and marked in the most permanent manner possible. Forgetting his plans to feed the both of you and then go at it later that night sniffed at you and let out a low growl. He needed to mate his bitch. Now. You were limp as a rag doll as he picked you up and put you in the pile of bedding material, despite the gross “scent marking” that he had applied to you not even being rinsed off yet. You felt Axle’s warm tongue carefully licking at your crotch, occasionally he broke away to kiss your soft thighs. His strong hands roamed every inch of your flesh that they could reach. He was like an animal as he began lapping at your entrance, stretching you out and getting you ready for mating. When his tongue slid into you it finally elicited a response and broke you out of your catatonic state. You tried to push him away to no avail, though he did take a moment to look up at all the commotion. As you looked at him you realized he almost seemed a bit larger than he was earlier, and had he always had that stubble, you could have swore that he had been clean shaven. Not that you had been in the best emotional state to make such careful observations. But then you saw a change made before your very eyes, and there was no denying it. His previously brown eyes had turned a fierce glowing yellow and as drool pooled and dripped at the corners of his mouth his teeth grew longer and sharper. Now you were really scared, more terrified than you had been since your kidnapping, what was this beast? Meanwhile Axle was running almost entirely on instinct, he had a vague sense of self but his impulses were simply too strong for him to ignore. The more you struggled the more he felt the unbearable need to prove himself to you. You were denying him as his mate so he had to show you how strong and capable he was, he had to be the mightiest he could be so you would be happy with him and have no doubts who the strongest man for you was. No doubt who owned you. He continued to transform into a full blown werewolf right before your very eyes. His clothing tore away as they were ripped apart by the muscles bulging out beneath, thick blonde fur covered every inch of his body, claws grew from his nails, you could see glimpses of a tail swinging strongly behind him and his ears grew longer. His erect cock became canine like in nature and his musky nuts sung below, full of potent seed to fill you with. You screamed in terror and tried to kick him away but the beast that was formerly Axle would not allow itself to be denied. Had to mate you. Had to prove himself as a good partner. Had to show you he was powerful, could keep you safe. You tried to kick him away but this only cemented in his mind the absolute need to subdue you and yew his. During his shift into his strongest form you had managed to scoot away from him, he grabbed you by the ankles and pulled you back towards him, you tried to grab at anything you could to stop him, futilely throwing pillows and blankets at him in a last ditch hail Mary attempt to get away, but it was as hopeless as all your other attempts. When he had you under him he forced you into a mating press and shoved his hard cock to the hilt inside of your drool slickened hole. Once he was deep inside he let loose another wave of piss. Had to mark your insides as his property. Had to. Needed to make sure no one else thought about using his property. His mate. His. After Axle had once again marked you with his urine he began slowly thrusting in and out of you. But he quickly got tired of the pace, werewolves were not exactly known for restraint, especially when so deeply under the spell of their instincts. You yelped as he painfully shoved himself in and out of your quickly sore hole. Precum, drool, and piss leaked out of you and down his shaft and balls as he bred you, his huge nut sack slapping your ass with every thrust. Luckily you had been so well lubed by all of his fluids or else you would have been in extreme pain. You were ashamed to admit it but your body was betraying you and the railing you were receiving from this barely human monster was beginning to feel amazing. His knot was slowly swelling within you, creating delicious friction as it rubbed against your inner walls. But interrupting any climax you were making your way towards was Axle as he nuzzled your neck with his wet nose before aggressive licking and nipping at it. But he did not stop there, he had to mark you, make you his mate, claim you in every way, you’d look even more beautiful wearing his claim. So without hesitation or forethought for the consequences of turning you into a werewolf, he bit down at the nape of your neck. Hard. You cried out in a startled shock as he licked away the blood from your fresh wound. He had to comfort his mate. Had to. He didn’t stop licking until your tears lessened and you seemed relatively calm. The entire time he was biting you though he was still fucking you at a moderate pace, and he finally came to the beautiful sound of your overstimulated cries and whimpers. You were so good for him. Perfect fragile little bitch made to be filled up full of his seed and protected by him. You felt a growing pressure inside of you as his knot reached full size, binding the two of you together, and his cock throbbed deep within you as it shot rope after rope of warm semen. You had not gotten your climax yet though, and he couldn’t accept that, you had taken his so so well, you had been such a good mate, the perfect breeding bitch, you even took his mark and everything. Even if it wasn’t by choice. You deserved to feel pleasure. So Axle rocked his hard knot back and forth inside you, as much as he could move it with it at the size that it was, and slowly coaxed an orgasm from your hot mess of a body. He stopped when he felt it and heard you moan and whimper loudly, your voice full of pleasure. After achieving his goal of pumping his wimpy bookworm full he finally regained clarity of mind and his instincts lost their grip on his actions. He realized what he had done and was a bit embarrassed he had lost control like that. He had planned to very slowly ease you into the truth about being a werewolf. Still, he couldn’t argue with the results, you passed out under him from all the sensations he had brought to you, and him on top of you with his cock tight and snug within your hot depths. He was not in the least worried about you being a werewolf, it would only make you more dependent on him, you did not know the first thing about being one. And if you ever did escape he could always overpower you. He was stronger than you when you were both humans and he would remain stronger than you in any form. You would always be Axle’s bitch.  

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Since you said you were looking at requests could you please do something with Dom Daryl with overstimulation, breeding, and cockwarming? Maybe after the savior war trying to get pregnant or any later seasons Daryl? It’s almost 6:30 in the morning so those are just the prompts that came to me first, anything you write with them will be wonderful, thank you 🩷

If I get a Little Prettier, Can I be Your Baby?

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Alexandria (post Savior's War)

Warnings: Poorly written smut; p in v; cockwarming; forced orgasms; overstimulation; a hint of breeding, I guess? A/N: This request has been sitting in my inbox for weeks. Gods, I am so sorry for making you wait! I'm even more sorry that I was all over the place with this so I hope it's just good at all. I tried, Anon! I promise!

“S’the matter? Thought ya wanted this?” 

Daryl was sitting against the headboard, just as bare as you. You straddled his hips, stretched around his cock and had been for��well, you weren’t sure. He had kept you there, softening slightly every once in a while only to press a thumb against your swollen clit to quickly bring you to orgasm. Your convulsing walls brought him to fully hard within seconds. You’d lost count of how many times he’d done it, sometimes not even needing the stimulation. He would be throbbing with just as much need inside of you and still worked at you until you came, shuddering and whimpering his name like a mantra. 

“Please, Daryl, I need—”

“Ya need to sit there ‘til I say diff’rent.” His voice was low, gravelly. Stern, even. You felt your cunt clench and his hips jerk. You were so sensitive, yet still craving him. He could work miracles with those fingers but being so full and stretched without feeling him drag along your inner walls was torture. He wasn’t cruel, never. There was a safe word in place, always, no matter who held the reins. Whether out of sheer stubbornness or overwhelming desire, neither of you had ever used it.

“Yes, sir.” You breathed. Your fingers were splayed over his stomach, his muscles twitching with each miniscule movement you made, though you tried to sit stone still. 

The battle with the Saviors had been won. Negan was imprisoned. Alexandria was being rebuilt. Everyone was working together and there was, for at least the time being, a feeling of relative peace and safety. While you had never officially married, you had become Mrs. Dixon in every way except on paper, and that didn’t seem to matter much in those days. You and Daryl had talked about a family before, but always seemed to find some reason to deny yourselves. His worries of becoming his father, Wolves, Saviors, and of course, the dead. There was always something. 

It wasn’t until Daryl had been locked in Negan’s cell that he came to realize that waiting was futile. The world would never be safe. If you wanted to have children with him, he loved you enough to travel that road with you. He’d love his children because they were a part of both of you.

This? This was the first session in what would be many “practice runs.” Or maybe one time would be all it would take. 

“You’re bein’ such a good girl. Wanna cum for me again?” He smirked, tucking your hair behind your ear and letting that finger carve a trail down over your collarbone, circling your left breast before he pinched and rolled your nipple. You gasped and arched your chest toward him, making him hiss when your hips shifted. 

“S—sorry, sir.” You gasped, breathing heavily from just that slight stimulation. If he fucked you now, you feared you’d cum so quickly that it’d be embarrassing. From the twinkle in his eye, it didn’t seem like you were going to have a choice. You let out a squeak as he flipped you to your back, never separating from you but punching a moan from you both with the slight friction. 

“Think I’ve had enough’a toyin’ around. How ‘bout we get to work on puttin’ a baby in that belly?” Pressing his mouth to yours in a sloppy kiss, a dance of tongues and teeth, he hooked the back of your right knee over the crook of his elbow and rolled his hips. You pulled back from him, lest you bite his lip, which he’d honestly probably rather enjoy. Another deep thrust saw your hips rising to meet his. He didn’t stop you or reprimand you, so it was safe to say this was all about the endgame.

“Fuck, you feel good.” You whined with your nails scratching over his shoulders, red marks all the way to where you settled your hands on his ribs.

“Yeah?” He knew the answer, even if he did make the next snap of his hips a little rougher. Raising your head, you nuzzled your cheek against his and placed your mouth against his ear.

“Don’t hold back.” You whispered, licking the lobe and then the spot where his pulse raced. Daryl growled, letting your leg drop. When he reached up to grab the top of the headboard with one hand and then the other, you knew you were about to get absolutely ruined.

And couldn’t have been more turned on by the thought.

With a smirk of your own, you chose to let your legs fall open as wide as they could, almost to the point of painful. You were soon digging your nails right into his buttocks. It started with a cadence of rough snaps, his pelvic bone and the coarse hair above his cock slapping against your oversensitive clit. He chuckled above you, knowing exactly why you were making those sinful little noises. Your humiliatingly slick cunt squelched with each push and pull of his cock, only adding to the debauchery that could potentially be heard by the others in the house.

You only dug your fingers in harder, drawing up your knees but keeping your legs wide open. “Come on, Dixon.” You panted, biting back a cry when the next thrust made you see stars. “I thought you wanted to fuck a baby into me. Put in a little effort.”

It was that moment, you knew you had fucked up. 

Daryl went motionless, looking down at you through that curtain of sweaty, dark hair. He had one brow arched. He never let go of the headboard but leaned down between his arms until he was nose to nose with you, the most deliciously wicked smirk lifting one corner of his mouth. 

“Ya better hold on tight, Sunshine.”

The first thrust shunted you straight up to the headboard, one hand releasing its hold on his ass to slap palm down against the wood and protect the top of your head. And then he was absolutely ruthless. Fucking feral. He used his hold on the headboard as leverage and fucked you at a pace you’d never experienced. Soon, you had let go of him altogether, both palms planted firmly against the smooth surface above you. You couldn’t stop shouting long enough to even let him know you were cumming. Once, twice. A third sparking to life low in your belly. His grunts and groans above you were just fucking delectable and you distantly wished you could focus on the sounds your pussy was coaxing out of him but the feeling of him just absolutely splitting you in two took precedence. 

“‘Nough effort for ya?” He panted, slowing only slightly, just enough for you to see him scanning you for any signs that you wanted to stop, that you needed to use the safeword. You scoffed at him. However, you couldn’t seem to speak, so close to yet another orgasm. You saw his grip loosen, knew he was getting concerned, so you communicated your consent by flattening your feet on the mattress and rolling your hips up to take him deeper, both of you groaning. He worked his way back to the same brutal pace, his cock swelling and twitching inside of you. He was close.

You were closer.

Drawing in enough breath, somehow assembling enough presence of mind, you moaned out “I’m—I’m close—Please—”

Daryl grunted, dropping down from the headboard with a hand on either side of your head. “Let go, Sunshine.” He commanded through gritted teeth. “Fuck, m’gonna cum.” You had just felt the first tendrils of pleasure rip from your core when he thrust twice more, stilling against you and holding himself deep with a guttural moan, his muscles spasming and body trembling. “Fuck!” You were too lost on whatever cloud he’d sent you to, your eyes rolled back and mouth agape. Your chest was arched into him until you felt the burn in your muscles suddenly dissipate and you collapsed to the mattress, his name falling from your lips like a mantra. 

Daryl was still thrusting into you lazily, dragging out both of your orgasms until you just couldn’t take anymore and twisted your hips to the side with a whine. He let you lie down flat again before gently, slowly pulling out of you, barely moving himself over before he collapsed into a trembling heap. You could feel his cum leaking out of you, burning as it slid across the flesh of your abused cunt.

It never failed that no matter how fucked out he was himself, your well-being came first. Rolling his head toward you, he gave you a once over. “Y’alright? Did I hurtcha? Ya didn’t say—”

“I’m so good that I don’t think I’m ever coming back down to earth, thanks.” You blinked lazily at the ceiling before turning your head, letting it lull toward him to meet his eyes with a lopsided smile. “My god, Daryl Dixon, you just rocked my world.” 

God, you loved it when he blushed. He could be an absolute beast in bed—as he had just proven—and then go red as a tomato—as he currently was. Licking his lips slowly, he turned to admire the ceiling at the same time you did. 

“I’ll get up in a minute an’ get us cleaned up.” He was finally starting to sound like he had found his lungs and put them back in their rightful place. You lazily waved a hand. “Are ya really alright?”

You nodded, smiling stupidly once again. “I may not walk right for a few days.” You moved with a wince. “In fact, when you get up to get that towel, can you grab me a wheelchair? I think you dislocated my vagina.”

Daryl, of course, looked mortified. “Oh, come on. I’m fine. Just a little sore.” Propping up on your elbows, you grinned at him. “Besides, payback’s a bitch and next time, it’s my turn.” He mumbled christ under his breath and rolled off the bed, staggering toward the bathroom while you stared intently at the perfect round of his ass. “I’ll find the blindfold and handcuffs tomorrow!”

[doeidawn]

doeidawn's kinkmas day one ❆ forced proximity

KINKMAS 2024 | NEXT DAY

when a bad storm comes through and knocks out the power, your apartment is left frigid. with only so many options to keep warm, your roommate kyle chooses the more…intimate route. 2.9k.

❆ pairing: roommate!gaz x fem!reader

❆ tags: MDNI/18+; the forced proximity is not very forced. it is very much elective; feminine terms used for reader; kyle is cheeky (like always); fingering; praise; cockwarming; creampie

Another biting chill runs through your body. Must’ve been the fourth time in the last ten minutes you shivered so hard it nearly made your teeth chatter. Layering up with every blanket you owned and your most comfortable set of pajamas didn’t seem to do much in the way of keeping you warm. 

It was freezing. And that was putting it mildly. The cold weather—wind and snow and everything awful—had knocked out the power. And with it went every hope of keeping you and your apartment warm. The lit and flickering candles littered throughout were nice ambiance, and they kept the place bright enough to see, but did nothing to provide any sort of warmth. 

Needless to say, the holiday season wasn’t off to the best start. You were sat on the couch, hugging yourself beneath layers of blankets. It felt damn near impossible to keep all of you warm at once; when one part of you finally felt comfortable, another would grow stiff in the cold. You wouldn't be surprised if your nose started turning blue.

The soft patter of footsteps emanates from the hallway. Kyle, no doubt, probably making his way to the kitchen to scrounge for something in the cupboards. But then, his footsteps stop, only to break the silence with his laughter.

“Big fan of the li’l den you got goin’ on.” You turn just in time to see him gesture vaguely towards the blankets surrounding your body. “Y’cold or somethin’?”

His sarcasm is not entertaining. “Shut up,” you huff, hugging yourself tighter. Just looking at him made you colder; he was walking around with only a thin jacket and sweatpants like that was enough to keep out the cold. “How the hell are you not freezing?”

“Eh. It’s a li’l chilly, I suppose.” In his pride, Kyle saunters over to the couch and plants himself beside you. “Not that bad.”

You were sure he’d been through worse weather during his time in the military, but being home should’ve been reason enough to get comfortable. He didn’t have to tough it out. Certainly not around you.

“You’ve gotta be freezing. Get a blanket before you turn to ice.”

“I couldn’t if I wanted to. I think you stole every blanket we own.”

Looking down at your lap, he probably wasn’t wrong. Three blankets of various thickness splayed over your legs while another draped over your shoulders. Parting with the warmth wasn’t exactly the most appealing idea, but you weren't cruel.

“Well…here, then.” Shrugging off the fabric around your shoulders, you unfurl the blanket from your body and pass it to Kyle. The sweater on your upper half wasn’t quite thick enough to keep you warm on its own, but it would suffice for now. Couldn’t have your favorite roommate freezing because of your greed. 

But even as he haphazardly lays the blanket over his legs, he seems to notice the way your tense arms cross over your chest, hugging yourself tightly on impulse.

“Y’know,” he starts as he inches close to you on the couch. “They say the best way to get warm is to share body heat.” His arm wraps around you in a tight embrace that pulls you against him. He rubs his heavy palm up and down your arm, a gentle caress meant to generate some heat.

“I dunno if that’s true,” you say with a roll of your eyes. “They teach you that in the military?”

“Somethin’ like it.”

Yeah right.

But, to the man’s credit, it must’ve worked. As awkward as it was to be so close, you can’t deny that it did make you feel warmer. Although, it was the type of heat that pooled in the pit of your stomach and rose to your cheeks. The kind that had you tuned in to every breath he took and every slight movement of his body against yours. 

“Y’comfortable?” If you didn’t know any better, you’d say Kyle was talking to you like that on purpose. All low and smooth, laced with a warmth thicker than any blanket on your bodies. “Warmin’ up yet?”

A part of you wanted to be honest and tell him that you were perfectly fine. But the winning part of your brain decided that playing coy would end in a better result. “Still a little bit cold.” A perfect excuse to lean into his sturdy frame. The closeness was necessary, after all.

Except, it seemed to work a little too well. “Well, get closer, then.” You hear his cheeky muttering just before feeling his hands move to your waist. Pulling gently, just enough to guide you, Kyle maneuvers you into his lap. It surprises both of you just how perfect you fit; hips flush as he presses his chest against your back, completely enveloping you in his warmth and smell and touch. “Is that better?” His voice rumbles in your ear as he settles his chin in the crook of your neck.

At first, all you can do is nod. “Yeah…a lot better.” You manage to squeak out. “Warmin’ up already…” You’re thankful you aren’t facing him if only so he can’t see the look on your face—a mixture of panic at the feeling stirring between your legs and an eagerness that would betray your attempted coyness. “How…how about you? You warm yet?”

Kyle makes a sound, something that rumbles from deep in his chest. So quiet you can barely hear it yet you can feel it against your back. “M’alright. Hands are a li’l cold, though.” As the words leave his mouth, you feel his hands dip beneath the blankets on your lap. And, whether intentional or not, he begins to trace the hem of your sweater.

Tension sits thick in the air. Heavy between the two of you, all you can hear is the sound of your own heartbeat in your ears. His hands rest on your body like they're eager to move somewhere else. You want to circle your hips and press down just enough to see if he's having half the reaction you are, to see if you can feel him through all the layers. Instead, your hands move to his, fingers wrapping gently around his wrists as you guide his hands underneath your sweater.

To your surprise—and perhaps relief—his touch is quite warm when it hits the bare skin of your stomach. And hearing the sharp intake of breath from behind you only makes you grow hotter in turn. 

“You don’t feel very cold.” There’s a teasing bite to your obvious statement, something that playfully scolds him for lying as an excuse to feel you closer.

“Yeah, well…I warmed up quick."

“Is that right?”

“Mm-hmm,” he hums as his hands move up your body. He cups your breasts with a touch that borders on reverent—slow and hesitant at first, only to grow eager with greed. It takes your breath away when he pushes your bra up and out of his way. Not an unwelcome gesture, but one that surprises you nonetheless. 

“G-guess we shouldn’t stop then, huh?”

Kyle presses a chaste kiss to your neck. “Probably not.” He gives your breasts a firm squeeze before moving his hands down to your hips. “Not if we wanna stay warm ‘n all.”

“Right…” The roll of your hips is an involuntary movement, one encouraged by his hands gripping you tighter. A soft groan of his vibrates against your neck while his fingers tease the hem of your pajamas.

You put up no quarrel when he slips inside, warm touch ghosting over the front of your panties. The small gasp you make when he brushes over your clit has him smiling against your skin. A sharp nip of his teeth elicits the same reaction.

“You’re awfully warm down here, eh?” Kyle’s voice is a deep rumble that seeps into your bones. Ignoring his cheeky remark, your hips roll into his hand as he slides his hand beneath your panties. “Warm n’ fuckin’ soaked.”

He certainly wasn’t wrong. Your slick coated his fingers as they glided through your slit. You could feel him spread you open, using your wetness to aid his circling touches over your clit. His other hand snakes back up your body, kneading your chest and holding you close as your back arches off of him. A line of kisses trail from your neck up to your jaw, slow and but eager. Then his touch is gliding downwards and you feel two thick fingers press against your hole before easing inside.

The stretch of his fingers makes you hiss at first, your cunt squeezing tight as you adjust to the feeling. But he moves slow, works you open with gentle thrusts that coax more of the slick that eases his movements. He moans with you when his fingers sink to the knuckle like he’s imagining the tight wetness hugging his cock instead. And, God, you wish it was.

“Fuck, you’re even warmer inside…” The words seem to stumble out without thought, just an observation made with layers of lust behind it.

Kyle curls his fingers ever-so-slightly, pressing up as he drags them out, and it nearly makes you yelp. A shockwave of pleasure runs up your spine that makes your toes curl. He keeps up the steady pace that eases you open, stretching and pushing and curling just right. You can hear the wet and lewd sound of your cunt eagerly welcoming him every time he pushes in. His mouth finds your neck again when your head falls back against his shoulder, attacking your skin with love bites and whispers of praise that have you bucking into his touch.

A desperate rock of your hips makes him do the same. You can feel him underneath you, his cock stirring with every moan that leaves your mouth, hard and firm and pressing incessantly against your ass.

“Kyle…” His name rolls deliciously off your tongue in a moan. 

“Mm-hmm?”

Your hands seek out his body—like you have to remind yourself he’s really here—grounding yourself amidst the onslaught of pleasure. You can feel the muscles in his arm flex with every pump of his fingers.. “Want you inside me.” 

“To keep me warm, I take it?”

If your eyes were open, they’d roll at his cheeky joke. “Sure, whatever.” Still, you can’t help but smile with him when you feel him laugh. “Just put your dick in me.”

“I will, baby,” he coos in your ear. He pushes deep inside your cunt just to hear you keen. “Just wanna make you cum first—”

“Get inside me, Kyle.”

His movements stop, pausing at the conviction in your voice that surprised both of you. Then, you feel his lips curl into a smile before pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Yes, ma’am.”

Wasting no time—perhaps out of fear you’ll scold him again—Kyle slides his fingers out of you and moves his hands to your hips. While you sit up just enough to pull your pajamas down your hips and grant him space, he’s impatiently pushing at the waistband of his sweatpants until his cock springs free. You think you hear him spit before wrapping a hand around his cock, groaning at the feel of his own palm. He holds steady while your hips settle back into place.

The first brush of the head of his cock against your cunt makes both of you shudder. Hot and wet flesh glides against one another before you start to sink on his lap. But he’s big, much thicker than his fingers were. The stretch burns in a way you can only describe as delicious as you slowly lower your hips and swallow inch after inch. He doesn’t rush you, in fact, his breathing quickly turns unsteady as if your slow pace is still too much.

When you’re finally seated on his lap, he wraps his arms around your waist and holds you against his chest. His heavy breaths mimic your own as you both pause to adjust to the sensation. His hips push up slightly, pushing his cock even deeper inside, like being buried balls-deep isn’t enough for him.

“Fuck, Ky…” The nickname slips out involuntarily as you pant. He fills you so good, it takes your breath away every time you try to speak. “You—shit—you’re so big.” He makes a sound at that, something you imagine would’ve been a ‘thanks’ or ‘I know’ if he were a little more in control. “Stayin’ warm?” You almost want to kick yourself for keeping up with the shitty excuse that neither of you believed in anymore.

“Yeah…you’re very, very warm. ‘N tight too.” You can hear the restraint in his voice, coupled with the low growl of need. “Fuckin’ hell…”

Your hips rock gently in his lap once you gather the strength to move. Each movement makes you moan and clench around him despite being so soft and subtle you barely feel like you’re moving. Hell, every time you breathe you swear you can feel him push deeper. One heavy palm comes to rest on your hip, guiding your body with an encouraging touch, while the other slips between your legs.

Kyle curses under his breath when he feels where the two of you are connected. His fingers brush over your cunt, around your stretched hole where his cock fits snugly, and back up to your clit.

“Still plan on makin’ you cum, y’know,” his breath is hot against your jaw as he speaks. Rough fingertips circle your swollen clit as his mouth latches back onto your neck with wet kisses.

Good, you want to spit back, but your words falter into moans. Each rock of your hips makes his cock press against that sweet spot deep inside your core. That, coupled with the touch of his hand, quickly overwhelms your senses. Your cunt tightens and pulses, hugging his cock as you grind your hips in his lap and buck into his hand.

His breath is hot against your skin as he pants, groaning every time you clench. “Christ, you’re so fuckin’ tight. Gonna cum for me, baby?”

“Mm-hmm,” your eyes flutter shut as you hum, unable to think straight long enough to say anything else. 

“Good girl, that’s it.” His voice is a breathy and needy whisper in your ear. “Wanna feel this pretty pussy cum, baby.”

You know it won’t be much longer before that happens. Not with his fingers rubbing in perfect circles and his cock pushing deeper. Your cunt hugs him so tight it’s like you can feel every ridge, every vein, as he throbs inside you. Your toes curl and the muscles in your thighs go taut as that heat in the pit of your stomach starts to build. Moaning his name earns an encouraging kiss on your jaw. Your nails dig into his arm, holding him tight in a silent plea to keep going. 

Then his hips buck into yours, hitting that spot deep inside you just right, sending shockwaves through you. Your back arches off of his chest as you tense around his cock. Weeping cum down his shaft, milking his dick for all it’s worth, you squirm on his lap and whine pitifully while he strokes your clit. 

You can hear Kyle groaning underneath the sound of your own moans, his breath warm against your neck. “Fuck, that’s it…that’s it, good girl.” He practically growls as he moves to hold your hips tight.

“Cum in me, Ky’, please…” The words spill out with any thought, a mindless babble coming from the overwhelming haze of pleasure clouding your mind. You meant it, but you weren’t so sure you meant to say it out loud.

“Y’serious?” Your responding moan is all the confirmation either of you need. “Shit, it’s not gonna take me long, love. Not with you squeezin’ and movin’ like that…fuck…”

True to his word, the hot pressure of your slick walls hugging his cock makes him cum quick. Something between a moan and your name falls from his lips and his fingers dig into your hips bones to hold you steady. Maybe you imagine it, but you swear you can feel how warm his cum is, pumping deep inside you with every twitch of his cock. 

Heavy breathing fills the otherwise quiet room. His hands release their tight grip and wrap around you to hold you close against him. You practically melt into his frame, pliant and boneless. It quickly dawns on you how hot you’d gotten thanks to the layers of clothes and the blankets lying askew on your legs. Despite it being freezing inside, sweat dotted your forehead and ran down your back, sticking to your sweater uncomfortably.

While you planned to slip yourself off of his lap and waddle to the bathroom, Kyle holds you tighter the moment he feels you begin to rise.

“Mm, don’t move,” he mumbles against your shoulder. “Not yet. You’re comfortable.”

“Comfortable?” You realize how dry your throat is when your voice comes out hoarse. “Kyle, ‘m sweatin’.”

“Which means you’re not cold anymore, yeah?”

You roll your eyes. “Shut up,” you laugh. “You weren’t cold to begin with.”

“I will be if you get up.” The way his arms lock even firmer around you has you convinced he might be telling the truth. “Just a few more minutes, okay?”

Right. You can practically hear him repeating the same thing a five minutes from now. Either way, you don’t fight it. Truth be told, he did get you warmer, and getting up to face the cold felt wasn’t the most preferable idea.

Maybe surviving a heatless apartment was a lot easier than you thought.

[derww]

the thing that bugged me the most after watching the wormhole video is actually that we never got the proper ending for the main plot line that was in it: parrot and spoke's personal relationship.

even though spoke showed that conversation from the end of wormhole, where parrot stood in front of spoke, clutching the handle of the hyperion, and said that he refuses to let people down even if it means he has to sacrifice something very important to him, this does not answer the question hanging in the air. from the point of view of the narrator, after losing op, parrot seems to lose his autonomy, both as an antagonist and, more importantly, as spoke's best friend, after spoke himself talked almost exclusively about their friendship for an hour, both as characters and, first of all, as real people.

"i didnt just exploit a game, i exploited a friendship i had built over the years.". speaking about both parrot and mapicc, spoke mentions several separate times how much it went beyond just playing on the server, that he abused their real, actual relationship in order to achieve his goal. at the same time, spoke does not tell what happened between them – both characters and people – after him receiving an op. in the jungle part, parrot literally has almost no lines – he just stares and stares and stares and stares. until the very end of the story, he follows the path that spoke paved for him, living in the conditions created by spoke.

we see only glimpses that everything is actually – at least relatively – fine. not only because parrot continues to play within the game, but also how he complains to spoke about the unfairness of using teleportation and that after the season ending he even suggests for spoke to become the new lifesteal owner. grains that do not reflect full image. was parrot horrified and shocked, was he angry, at least for a moment, when he realized how far spoke's manipulation extended, did they have to somehow solve and discuss it, or was he immediately like, "wow, you made a lot of awesome moves, there will be cool content!" and everything was fine? sure, parrot loves risk moves and adrenalin, but wasnt it too far?

can it even be "okay" if your best friend has been manipulating you for months for a personal goal? does this cross the line of what is truly acceptable, even in a lifesteal setting? even if it's all for the sake of shared content, even if the community has the right mentality, even if no real harm has been done, even if you're willing to trust a friend that he won't cross the line, does all this change the fact that it's, in general morality, just plain cruel?

although this is undoubtedly too personal to just insert into the video, it should be noted when the whole story is about abusing irl friendship. although i absolutely understand this decision, this is by no means a critical review, from the point of view of storytelling it is strikingly incorrect, as if in the middle of writing a book the writer threw out all rules.

of course, this is an important conversation to be had on the whole – with the rules never mentioned out loud, with an unspoken agreement that everyone understands what's going on here and how, and what everyone is signing up for, when the price is friendship and connection, how far is it too far? lsers are friends, to a greater or lesser extent, but it's almost inappropriate to answer "everyone has their limits" when a relationship is at stake. everyone, including spoke himself, agrees that what he did in s4 was too much, but there were many, many other moments where everything was not so clear, and, moreover, there was no discussion, even in private, which never solves the essence of the problem.

lifesteal is not unique, but it is a very rare system in how far people can be willing to go in a war against others, despite the fact that everyone is friends: most of the pre–lifesteal stories of this approach took place on public servers and against strangers, and friends' servers either remained frivolous to one degree or another, or were scripted. post-lifesteal, many servers of a similar kind have appeared, but only a small part of them are comparable in terms of the proximity of the players and the rigidity of the approach, because it is incredibly difficult to simultaneously allow yourself to get involved as deeply as possible and, at the same time, having received a knife in the back, not want to bury the traitor underground. It's about trust, and it's about content, and it's so strikingly different for different people, and there's obviously no right answer here.

when playing league of legends, one of the important skills that every player needs to develop is not to tilt. at the same time, take the game seriously, but be ready to let go of defeat, no matter how much effort you put into the game. don't go crazy when you lose a line and die ten times, and jungler yells at you as the worst possible being. it took me a few years to stop tilting, and it carried over to minecraft too – where my friends got upset, angry, and gave up, i learned to just shrug my shoulders and try again. but that didn't teach me how to deal with betrayal, even in-game, because the worst thing about betrayal is that it always comes from someone close to you. not from an accidental co-player in a match, and not as a simple accident, but as an intention to harm, even if only in the game. it is a lot to take, and the cost is too high. and, while parrot and spoke are still good friends, parrot left owner role because of the distress it gave him, so doesn't it show the presence of a real impact.

i like that we got only half-truth tho. because it is who spoke is. when he needs you to believe him, he says something actually truthful, and then – his lie and manipulation, and you eat it because believe everything to be true. even now, spoke continues to metagame. he's fine with showing that he was a dick, and he's using that to cover a part he never wants to explain. and he wouldn't.

spoke tells the truth saying he liked to do the impossible, but it is not a full answer. while s4 ending was supposed to be a relief for him, an opportunity to stop lying and being a villain, there remains something else – not only the showdown, but the guilt, the realization that you were so wrong that you hide huge chunks and you refuse to get them for another year and a half. when everything ends, when there is nowhere else to run, reflection and awareness remain. a year and a half later, from the season 6, spoke can end the video on a positive note, but for that long-time spoke, who had just released the god from his body, covered with lightning scars everywhere, absolutely not feeling like a winner, it was a bad end, and perhaps for his character, it couldn't be good.

how old was spokeishere when he did all this, 16? there is an irony that he is the worldender, the trickster, the manipulator, and he's the youngest of them all. sometimes i want to call him dumb for not being careful enough or anything else but then i do remember how he played everyone in s4. not in a big picture, but in smalltalks, toying people while they thought him to be completely harmless. spokeishere being smart is like lifesteal having its unspoken rules – you need to be too attentive to see it. often it is like a... circles on the water. you can't see a fallen pebble, but you can see the waves radiating from it. and, in the end, he is the one who did it, who succeeded, and who am i to judge him?

minecraft roleplay can do something very wrong with you, how any acting sometimes can break you apart and turn inside out. because while you are letting yourself feel like it's real, it is, at some capacity, can be real. and while it is a known factor of being an actor, it's not something you do think about when you go to play a game with your friends. sometimes it changes something very, very important in you, and sometimes you look back on that experience and realize that it hurt you. or not. everyone has their unique experiences, as always.

also, we finally found out the reason the fishing spot was so important. not only a place of friendship but also a place of the exploiting! yay!

[goldenrulemotherfucker]

Real talk, I came to the Fallout series a total newb, knowing nothing about the lore/games and came away with a new favorite show, easily in my top five. In particular, something it does exceptionally well is narrative payoff. Nothing in this show happens just to happen; every choice the characters make shapes their future arcs. As a SFF writer myself, I'm not only impressed--I'm inspired.

I feel this way about the entire story, but in terms of Lucy and Cooper specifically, we get so many great payoffs from their interactions. When he doesn't share his water, it seems like he's just being a dick until we learn that his canteen is full of dirty water. (Yes, he was still being a dick, but he knew she naively thought he was drinking clean water.) When he forces her to use the knife in the "ass jerky" scene, he's absolutely being cruel, but he's also extremely fatigued to the point of near collapse, which only becomes clear only after she's out of sight at the Super Duper Mart. When he cuts off her finger, it seems like nothing more than him "getting even," when he actually took a much-needed replacement part for his hand (from someone he assumed wouldn't be alive much longer).

These interactions are all brutal, give us new insights into both characters, and also set up a massive payoff in Lucy's "golden rule, motherfucker" moment. Even after everything he put her through and how he treated her as disposable, she does the opposite and shows him empathy and kindness. To put it plainly: Her choice in this scene wouldn't carry half as much weight if he hadn't repeatedly treated her like shit. Coupled with her ability to self-rescue, the scene cements who Lucy is as a person--both for the viewer and for Cooper. (And what happens next? He watches a film clip where his old self looks right at him and delivers the line about a villain being ugly and strong but having no dignity.)

The moment when Lucy gives him the vials could have been enough of a payoff for their arc by itself. But it sets up an even better one: The next time they cross paths, he treats her differently. Having already seen himself in her, and knowing that they both want answers to the same (or very similar) questions, he invites her to accompany him on his journey this time--no longer as a pawn, but as someone he trusts and respects at least a little. As a direct payoff for her memorable act of kindness toward him, this fucking rules. It's surprising while also feeling completely earned. "Golden rule, motherfucker," isn't just a satisfying moment (or my favorite line), it shapes the characters' future.

On Lucy's side, when she decides to follow him, she has no reasons to trust or respect him (yet); she likely just recognizes that he's currently the only person who will lead her to the truth. But she's only met the Ghoul so far, not Cooper Howard. She doesn't know that his primary motivation has been searching for his family this whole time. She doesn't know that she's seen him before, in those old movies she watched at home. She doesn't know why he shot the billboard.

Now, I'm not making predictions about how their future arc will play out (nor am I asking for them), I'm just along for the ride. But I feel confident that there will be many more great payoffs to come now that they've gone from "hostile forced proximity" to "traveling together by choice." I've rarely been so pumped for a second season. <3

[madamechrissy]

Silent Serenades

♔ An arranged Marriage with Duke Gojo ♔

♔ Pairings: Duke Satoru Gojo x Duchess Reader

♔ Content/Warnings: TW: Past Self harm references, past eating disorder references- angsty asf always, Explicit sexual content, cunnilingus, fingering, dirty talk, name calling, hate/love sex!? lots of tension, and ofc a breed kink bc it's ME lol

♔ Word count: this chap: 13k (longest chap so far!)

♔ 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

Split POV- Duchess and Duke Gojo- Comments and Reblogs appreciated <3

Part Ten ♔ Masterlist ♔ Playlist

Part Eleven

Gojo’s POV

The last ball you had been to with Duke Gojo was completely different from this one, even only being a couple weeks ago. The last one you were enemies, you had been with Nanami and he had been with Lady Elaine. He had danced once with you, just for show, and had later watched you on that man’s lap, hating the man so much he almost lost all composure.

He had begged to just taste you that night, he wonders why you even let him, you know how horrible he was, but even then, something pulled you both to each other, like never ending magnets. Even then he’d tried so hard to fight it, the desire for you, the feelings building, this inexplicable need to constantly be near you, to your very detriment.

Now, Duke Gojo is walking into this ballroom with your little hand in his, you all certainly aren’t enemies now, fuck Satoru is falling in love deeper with your every breath in fact. He knows you’re terrified, so he does not want to push to know your feelings but he knows they are there, how else could you even care for a man like him, a man who has wronged you so many times.

This morning he had watched you sleep, when he’d woken up cradling your delicate body in his strong arms. You looked so real, not just this figurative angel he came to check on at night, your hair was messy, you were snoring just slightly, he had smiled at how precious you were. When the sun’s rays had hit the windows of your bedchamber, you’d blinked up and looked at him.

His heart had faltered. He was terrified, would you be upset, scared to be next to him? Would you tell him to leave, realize your folly, your mistake of ever letting Satoru close, letting him fuck you, hold you. And fuck if you weren’t the most exquisite creature he’d seen in the morning, if you weren’t the best thing he’d ever felt, your body seemed made for him, you seemed made for him.

You had just smiled softly, caressing his face, and you’d given him a little kiss, before backing away shyly. Satoru had of course responded with a passionate kiss, already hard from being pressed against you all night. But you all had been interrupted for there was much to do before the ball, otherwise he would have devoured you, every bit of you.

The bliss of waking up with you made him realize that last night was not just some dream, in fact it was so much better than any dream. On the carriage ride instead of arguing or being silent, both of you had spoken of the village, you had learned more of each other, even though at times he saw you stop yourself from being so enthusiastic, controlled yourself, held yourself in a bit.

He sees it written all over your pretty face, you’re still terrified of opening your heart, and who could blame you? Satoru himself could not forgive his transgressions towards you, despite the fact that you seem to be willing to give him a chance. You squeeze his hand a bit, scanning the crowd as you all stand on the top of the winding steps, to descend into the ballroom.

“What is it, Princess? Nervous?” He murmurs, you take a breath, looking up at him under your lashes.

“A little. Is this the first event we’ll have where you don’t hate me?” You tease, he smirks then.

“Yes, but you still hate me.” He says the words lightly, but he hopes that they’re not true, against all sense. He hopes you feel more than hatred, though Satoru would take your hatred over anyone else’s love.

“A little.” You whisper, as he leans down now, putting your hand on his inner elbow now. “Much less than the last one.”

“I’ll take it as a win.” Satoru earns your little breathy laugh, fuck if everything you do doesn’t affect him in every way. “You look so stunning, everyone will be after you soon, you know.”

You blush now, looking down shyly as you both descend the staircase, your heels and his hessian boots clicking along the marble steps. You’re donned in a glittering white gown, so stunning it had taken his breath away when you’d first walked out of your room earlier. You were for once not wearing those ridiculous corsets your mother put you in your entire life, a bit out of fashion if anything.

Your waist was small enough, and he relishes in the fact you can breathe, and eat without being in such discomfort. Your dress has an empire waist, lacy roses along the bodice, cut to show much of your tantalizing breasts, not the older style fashion you usually had, though you looked beautiful in those as well. Satoru wants you to be your own person, not just your mother’s shadow.

He still does not know how deep what your mother has done to you goes, but he’s wary of seeing her after the dinner, where she’d been so hurtful, and where he’d realized what he’d caused, more pain for you. He never wants you to feel pain again, especially if he can help it, you’re owed at least that much for everything you have endured.

“Thank you, Satoru, you look dashing as well.” You murmur, leaning up to whisper in his ear as he bends down, Satoru smirks despite his heart racing at your compliment.

“Of course I do.” You roll your eyes now, giggling just a bit, a sound that has frequently been making his heart swell with so much affection it could burst. You’re turning him pathetic, he should be more scared of - Ending up like he did with Adelia- But he’s trying to stay open, to stop closing up, even if it destroys him in the end.

“I should not save you any dances, rakish man.” You tease, pretty lips quirking up just so as you do.

“Ah, cruel Duchess. You’ll dance with Suguru?” You roll your eyes.

“Maybe I shall.”

“Keep your lips to yourself.”

“I should say the same!” It’s too easy with you, the way you all ebb and flow, it feels far too good, and Satoru realizes it could have been this way from the beginning, even during your courtship, if he’d just opened up. The thoughts of time wasted and pain he’s brought consume him. “Satoru I was kidding.”

You snap him out of it then, looking at him with concern drawing your brows together. He gently touches the spot between them that is furrowed, as many onlookers start to speak of you both, hushed whispers and pointed fingers. The Duke and Duchess entered this elegant ballroom, where everyone was already mingling and dancing, of course it was a spectacle.

You stand out, of course you do, when haven’t you? You lit up everything even long, long before he would admit it. Of course Duke Gojo knows he does as well, but people truly adored you, for much more than your pretty exterior. Even now you are smiling at everyone who greets you all as you walk through the throngs of people, onto the chalk designed floor beneath you both.

“Shall I have your first dance?” Satoru murmurs to you softly, and you nod, biting your lower lip nervously. He gently releases it from your teeth’s grasp, seeing the little indentations, seeing your eyes dilate at his touch.

Fuck he’d love to be inside you again, feel you cumming on his cock. As elegant and ladylike as you present, he knows you’ve swallowed his cum and his spit last night, knows you had ridden his cock and cum all over the length of it. He knows you liked your ass smacked, liked your hair pulled, liked being choked, this elegant pretty Princess of his.

Even now he’s thinking of it, of sliding his cock between your perfect lips, of feeling your tongue dipping into the hole on his tip, greedily tasting his precum. Thinks of picking you up and fucking you on every single surface there is. Three times is not enough even in an evening for him with you, he’d love to fuck you from sunlight to sundown, dusk till fucking dawn.

He wants to fuck you until you’re both passing out from your exertions, but still push more and more in your soaking wet cunt. He wants to fill you with his seed so badly, he can’t of course but he dreams of it, of how good it would feel to cum inside you, fill you until you’re dripping out. Drink it right out of your yummy cunt, taste you two together.

He dreams of tying you up to the new bed he had ordered, they should have it together by the time the ball is over, he knows you’re disgusted by it, and why wouldn’t you be? He’d fucked countless women right in that room, with the goddamn door open, knowing you could see, wanting to make it so clear he ‘didn’t want you’ so you wouldn’t ever feel anything.

How, after all that, do you feel anything?

Satoru is desperate to do anything to make you stay, he would let you walk all over him if you wanted, but you’re just not like that. You’re damaged like him, yes, but you go about things differently, instead of being full of resentment, you push through and you try.

“Deep in thought, your Grace?” You ask softly, as the music begins, and people are crowded around you all.

He just nods a bit, taking your waist now, feeling the nip of it under your satin dress, watching your breath catch at the touch, your lips part just so. Your hand comes to grip his, as you both begin to move, his thumb pressing into your ribcage, his other fingers pressing into your back, watching you tremble, nearly having a misstep.

“Something wrong, Duchess?” He smirks as he asks you, you glare now, earning his chuckle.

“Nothing!” His thumb brushes the side of your breast as you both turn and twirl, the eyes of the ton on you.

“Sure it’s not. Not wet from my touch?” He whispers, so close he can taste your sweet breath, you scowl, narrowing your glittering eyes, your other hand clutching his shoulder over his suit jacket.

“Not at all, conceited man.” He just grins at you, spinning you and then dipping you over his arm, contemplating kissing you so that everyone knows how much he desires you, especially so many women Satoru has had a past with. He senses Lady Elaine glaring as he stands you back up. “What’s wrong, Satoru?”

“My first name, scandalous.” You shake your head at him with a little smile, until your eyes find her. “Ignore her. She’s angry I kicked her out that night.”

Your hands clutch tightly to his shoulders as his are on your waist, and you both glide together, effortlessly. “She’s glaring daggers at me.”

“Jealousy.”

“I doubt-”

“It is, because you have me.” He gulps then, sighing. “If you want to, of course… I know you…”

You caress his cheek then, mid movement, he leans into the touch with a sigh. “I want to try.” You say softly, and he sees how nervous you are, he can feel your pulse race as his thumbs brush the delicate veins of your inner wrist. “I’m terrified of how I feel, how easy it was this morning.” Your voice is a whisper.

“I know, I know… I have a surprise for you later.” You light up then, so pretty. “Do you like surprises?”

“I have not had very many, but yes I do. I think?” You’re so beautiful with that blush creeping up your neck.

“You think it’s a tawdry surprise, slutty girl.” He murmurs, earning you stomping on his foot, he huffs, glaring back at you.

“Oops, so clumsy.” You stick your tongue out through your teeth, Satoru snorts then, shaking his head.

“I’ll punish you later.” He says against the shell of your ear, as the song ends and he’s bent low, hand cupping your face.

“Oh will you? You can try.” He feels his body react as he dares to kiss your lips, in front of the entire ton, in front of onlookers and servants alike. He could devour you here, but he keeps it chaste, looking at the desire in your eyes when he backs away. “In front of them all?”

“They should know you’re mine.”

“Yours?”

“Even if you don’t know it yet.” He kisses your lips once more, earning the awws of many, and the look of ire from others, before leaning back and smirking at you. “You blush every-”

“I’ll stomp your other foot, Duke.” You shove him off you then, huffing so cutely, fuck the world melts when you are here, it’s like nothing else exists. Soon, Suguru and Shoko come up to you both, clear shock on their faces as they observe you all, and you straighten up, shyly smiling at them both.

“Did he drug you? Why are you so happy with this ass?” Shoko demands, and Satoru sticks his tongue out, earning your little giggle.

“You let her speak to me this way?” Satoru asks you.

“Oh, I love when she does.”

Suguru and Shoko chuckle, Satoru glares at all three of you. “You little brat, the most insolent-”

“Satoru…” Suguru starts, and Satoru sighs.

“It’s just foreplay, she’s quite… freaky.” Suguru blushes now, looking up at the chandeliers above you all, and you gasp, smacking at his shoulder, luckily no one really noticed as another dance has started.

“Oh! Oh? Oohhh…” Shoko puts it together now, looking at both of you. “Shit, really, him?”

“Shoko, you’re such a bitch.” She stomps on Satoru’s other foot now. “Surrounded by psychotic wenches.”

“What changed suddenly?” Suguru interjects, looking right at you as he speaks, a hand gentle on your arm, so caring. He makes Satoru want to punch him, though he knows he just cares for you, he detests anyone else touching you, even his best friend, a thing that surprises him.

With Adalia she had literally been with countless men, he did not want to know details, all he knew was his obsession with her. He cared little for what she did not around him, whereas the times you had gone to your baker, it had broken him, left him in fucking shambles. Once he sat there at the table for hours and hours, praying you would turn around, think better of it.

But why would you have? Satoru consistently pushed you, and he now understands completely why you did so. Though he wishes so fervently he could have had that special moment of being your first, he knows the man he was then did not deserve it. It did not change the fact that he wanted to kill the man who did it, that he wants you to completely forget him.

He wants to be your only, your last.

You’re surely his.

“I’m giving it some time…”

“A month.”

“No, Satoru… perhaps longer. I do not know yet.” His chest feels so light, like he can finally breathe again. “Time to help him with the villages, and… get to know each other finally. Exclusively.”

“That’s… that’s good news. Surprising news.” Suguru looks at Satoru now curiously, dark eyes narrowing, assessing him up and down. “Is Satoru back, is the shitty whore Duke gone?”

Satoru snorts, rolling his eyes, Shoko crosses her slender arms as she studies him as well. “I’d also like to know. You better treat her right, actually more than that, you should be kissing her feet.” She says.

“Kissing the ground she walks on.” Suguru says, and you’re grinning now, raising a brow expectantly at him.

“I’m frequently on my knees, if that helps.” Satoru says, for it is true, how many times had he sank to his knees for you, to beg for you, god only you could make him this way, and it still terrifies him. It’s a million times more intense than Adalia, it’s as if you’ve wiped her memories out, like that love was nothing.

But what if you still leave!?

Satoru does not know if he can live if you do, if he could live with himself knowing all the pain he caused and not have a chance to fix it, to make you feel loved, wanted, cherished. Those vows he never took seriously, now they’re like little biting wounds, of every single one he broke, has he even now made you feel cherished or loved, or simply… desired?

He wants to show you more, but he also knows it’s overwhelming, fuck he is overwhelming altogether, so he wants to give it time, but he is also consumed by you. Ever since he had you, since he felt you under him, felt your sweetness dripping down his cock, entwined his fingers with your own, he is more hopeless than before, so mad you make him just by existing.

You’re covering your mouth with your little gloved hand as they continue picking on Satoru, lighting up your face, lighting up the room. How could he have sapped so much joy from you!? How can he get over the hatred he has for himself, so he can show you the love building, and it’s a crushing, consuming love, one where it’s all he can think of.

All he can think of is you.

How many ways he can make you cum, how many times he could get you to scream out his name. How your beautiful fucking eyes glazed over when he got you off so hard you were convulsing, then that look when you’d been on your knees. But more than just that, more than your perfect cunt and body, no the moments where he just could hold you…

He’d never slept so well in his fucking life as last night, woken up just drooling on you, sprawled all over, taking over your bed, you’d just been snug and tight against him, so small and sweet. Satoru wanted to protect you from anything in the world, but what had he done, but been what you needed protecting from. Even Suguru had screamed at him, Shoko had, his mom had just from hearing rumors.

And you needed another man to protect you from him. Satoru hates that, more than anything, the thoughts that swirl as he realizes how much he pushed you, how much he took out every pain in his life on you. He does not think he even deserves to look upon you, but he’s so fucking selfish he’ll take it, take anything from you.

“I am starving.” You say, and he smiles at hearing it, it’s not something you would normally say, so worried constantly about appearances. “I am going to grab a bite to eat, let them yell at you more.”

He chuckles, kissing your hand gently, to the surprise of Suguru and Shoko, who share a little hopeful smile. “Sounds good, I’ll be waiting for another dance.”

“Hmm, maybe… we’ll see.” You tease, and Satoru is left with Shoko and Suguru, crossing their arms.

“She was completely done with you I thought.” Shoko says, Satoru sighs, the knife twisting in his stomach.

“I truly thought so as well. She had…”

“The papers, I am aware.” He glares at them, but then sighs once more, shaking his head. “I understand why you signed them. You all wanted better for her.”

They both look aghast now. “Have you actually come to your senses? Did all my smacks work?” Shoko asks, Satoru shakes his head once more, as a server brings them each a glass of champagne. He twists it in his hands now.

“She found someone else.” His voice is hoarse as he speaks, and they share a look, then nod a bit. “You knew?”

“Yes. I did not judge her for it. Though she should have picked me.” Suguru says with a smirk, and Shoko laughs.

“You’ve already kissed her, you ass.” Satoru glares, but Suguru shrugs, sipping on his champagne casually.

“Sure did. You deserved worse.”

“I know. But still you deserve a punch.”

“You deserve multiple.”

“I’d have kissed her if I was there.” Shoko says with a grin, earning another scowl from Satoru.

“Some friends I have!”

“You’re lucky you still have any. Even before her, you’ve been miserable.” Suguru says.

“I know. How about you both come to dinner this weekend? And I can explain myself.” They nod then, making Satoru exhale in relief. “It’s a long story…”

“Hey, is the Duchess alright? Her mother…” Suguru trails off now, and Satoru looks over at you, his stomach lurching when he looks at your mother grabbing your wrist roughly, shoving down whatever food you had in it. “What on Earth is she doing acting that way!?”

“What a little bitch. Should I spill a drink on her?” Shoko says through gritted teeth, her fists clenching in her silk gloves.

“She’s done this to her for her entire life.” Satoru whispers, furious as he watches your crestfallen face. “And I’m done with it.”

Satoru downs his drink in a gulp, handing the empty glass to Suguru now, before grabbing his and downing it as well. Suguru just nods to him, looking back at you now, concern washing his face. “I’ve always wondered if she had a problem, she never ate anything around me. Then you…”

“I know, I was horrible. I must fix at least one thing I can control.” Satoru says, and they nod.

“Go to her.” Suguru pats him on the shoulder, and now Satoru’s eyes are set on you across the room, striding towards you in long lengths, ignoring anyone and everyone who tries to pause him, speak to him.

He can see your mother bending over you, and you damn near fucking cowering, fiddling with your hands in front of yourself, before covering yourself up with your arms, hugging yourself, so insecure. It makes him sick and furious, sick for you, for what you feel when you shouldn’t, and furious this woman would continue on. He can’t even hear her words but he just knows.

He knows he needs to do one fucking thing right for you, one of many more things if you’ll allow him. He stands now right in front of you both, you’re standing in front of a tower of fruit and chocolate fountains, there’s the tiniest little plate where you had taken a bite of one. You look up at him now, eyes glistening with tears, and your mother attempts a fake smile.

“Your Grace!”

“Just what have you said to upset my wife?”

Your POV

His wife?

Why does hearing that make your heart race, make you overheat, to the point you almost feel giddy? It feels so good to hear him, to see him standing so tall next to you, putting a possessive arm around your waist, bringing you against him. Just days ago this would seem impossible, improbable, but now…

Your mother is sputtering, and you’re trying not to cry in front of an entire assembly of people, mostly gossipers, you’re trying to hold onto a frail composure, but it’s nearly impossible. The relief you feel when he’s next to you is indescribable, no matter what has happened between you two, once again he defends you from her, the woman you have no hope of standing up to.

You had just wanted a nibble as you had not had a chance to eat today with all the preparations, when your mother had smacked it right out of your hand, cruelly assessing your outfit. Asking why you had no corset, asking what you were wearing, telling you how horrible and wide waisted you look. That you were embarrassing her by being this way.

You cannot manage to stand up for yourself with her, you never really have been able to, unlike how you could with Duke Gojo. You’re now rubbing on the scar on your wrist, and Satoru’s eyes go there, you still have much to learn about each other, and you’re at times scared to open up. He’s trying, and you want to try, but it’s so terrifying to trust him.

It felt so easy, waking up next to him, those glittering blue eyes studying you, that silky white hair perfect even in the damn morning. You had shared this look with him as the sun’s rays had filtered in through the window, casting shadows on his perfect face, tempting you to caress a cheek. He had kissed you so hungrily, in the quiet little morning, a kiss that felt like so much more than lust.

Satoru Gojo surely knew lust, look at all his experience, but he says with you it is more, and you’re scared to believe him. But you do want to, and fuck if you don’t feel deeply for him, falling into a madness that consumes you. The thing that has scared you this entire time is your feelings for him, now more than ever, you feel your heart in his hands.

And he could crush you if he knew that you were falling head over heels in love with this cruel, foolish, toxic and insane man. A man that you should not feel this for, even though yes he’s trying, why do you want to forgive him so fast? Why not have him suffer, make him feel pain like you did…

Well because that’s not who you are.

But at the same time you can’t just express it, times like this morning you wanted to whisper ‘my love’ but you cannot yet. You still need to feel safe, so you must keep it to yourself, you do not want things used against you. Of course you want to believe him, but you’re still nervous, and he seems to understand, he does not ask for you to return the things he says.

But you feel them, with your entire body and soul, just dancing with him in his arms, looking up at him in his elegant black suit, you wanted to melt into him then and there, as if it were only you two. The rest of the world seems to fade in the background, even before, even when you hated each other, it was like it was just you two and that hatred.

Was it ever hatred? You still do not know. Even then you wanted to figure him out, to solve him, even in Nanami’s bed you’d thought of him, you had dreamed of him so many times. You were always consumed by him, but now the hatred has ebbed and flowed, and you’re left with more and more feelings beyond desire, especially now as he’s studying you carefully.

You had cut yourself a few times, always in the same place, and unfortunately once was a very deep one, on accident. You had wanted to do it as a punishment, because you knew you could never live up to your mother’s expectations. But that day, you’d been happy, simply been baking muffins in the kitchens with the cooks, and had been nibbling when she’d found you.

You always had strict rules set by your mother, and even more as a young adult, as your mother put more and more pressure on you. You had to have the tiniest waist, they would corset you down to a ridiculous eighteen inches at certain points, but as you matured, you could only get to twenty inches, and to see you indulging had set your mother into a fit of course.

She had laced you up herself in the room, laced you so tightly and with so much force you threw up the only thing you had eaten, she did not hit you or hurt you, your parents never did such a thing, for that you guess you are lucky. But she had said the meanest things as she laced you up, of how no man would want you, of how you needed to be prettier, better, thinner.

You’d sobbed as she had left, just a tying of a corset became something so disgusting, and after you’d thrown up the contents of your stomach, barely able to breathe, you’d had an asthma attack. Finally getting to the kitchens, you’d instead found a knife, and sliced your wrist so deep blood had poured everywhere, and for a moment you felt a dizzying peace.

Your nan had stitched you up, sobbing, you had broken her heart, you knew, but she never judged you, she just unlaced you, caring for the blood not just on your wrist but on your back from your mother’s tight lacing. She had bandaged you up and held you as you sobbed all night, telling you that you were worthy.

Even thinking of it now makes you choke up, sniffling back tears as you struggle to focus, to not let such thoughts drag you down. “I merely am concerned at what she is wearing, your Grace. Where is her corset, and what is this dress!?”

“She can wear whatever she bloody well wants, first off Mama.” Satoru says, squeezing you tightly. “Second off, she looks beautiful, women do not wear corsets, not young women anyway. It’s not even in fashion. You would want my Duchess out of fashion?”

“No, of course not but it’s not flattering! She had the smallest waist, your Grace, before you met-”

“How much smaller does she need to fucking be!? How can she have children if she starves herself, she’s already done so enough I imagine in your care.” He scowls at her now, and she returns it.

“Well, I never! She had everything she wanted.” You scoff now, earning her ire. “Something to say?”

“No.” You whisper, hating yourself, and Satoru looks at you in confusion, thin white brows drawn together.

“That’s fine, I have much to say on her behalf, first and foremost you will no longer try to control what she eats, what she wears, anything. I am her husband now, and that duty is only for me. And I say she can do whatever the fuck she wants. Is this understood, my Lady?” His words in your defense touch you deeply, as you look up at him, seeing the set to his jaw, feeling his grip on you.

Your mother sighs, looking at you with disdain up and down. “You of course have that right, but I caution you to think better. She enjoys sweets too much, what if she becomes-”

“She can have whatever it is she wants. And she’s beautiful, so beautiful you feel the need to down her. Is it your inadequacies you push?” Your mouth drops open, your mother blushing furiously, fanning herself now as your dad comes up, smiling and patting your head. Though a little awkward and distant, he was kind, completely clueless surely.

“What’s going on with you three? People are looking.” He says, Satoru smirks just a bit at him.

“I was informing your wife it’s a husband’s duty to watch what his wife does, not her mother’s any longer. Would you agree my Lord?” Satoru asks, and your father glares at your mother now.

“Again?” He asks quietly, she rolls her eyes.

“I’m just looking out for her, I just care for her.”

“Perhaps your care has nearly ended me.” You finally murmur, earning Satoru and your father’s concerned gaze, your mother looks further irritated.

“So ungrateful, I-”

“That’s quite enough. You will no longer speak to her and upset her in that way, especially if you do not wish to lose all your invitations garnered by her being married to me. Is that quite clear?” Satoru’s icy blue eyes glare right at her, your dad senses the tension and tugs at her arm.

“She’s just feeling a little out of sorts. Apologize, darling.” Your dad says, your mom is seething, scowling down at you.

“Fine, let yourself go then. I suppose it’s your right, you’re married well, but I hope you set a better example for your-”

“That’s enough. An apology, then you may leave.” Satoru says again, she looks up at him, mouth setting.

“I apologize, your Grace.”

“No, to her, to your daughter.” You tense next to him now, shaking your head, and Satoru looks even more curiously at you.

“No need, Mama.” You murmur, now Satoru is glaring down at you.

“There is a need. I insist.” He speaks through gritted teeth. You take a breath, and your mother looks down for a moment, seeing you two.

“You’re indeed in love, aren’t you? You both are lucky.” You both pause at that. “You shall hear no more, it is your right as her husband to control such things. I bid you both a good evening.” Your dad pauses as your mom turns away.

“I hope you are doing well, darling. You look lovely.” You smile then, taking his hand, as he nods his head to Satoru. “Your Grace.”

“My Lord.” He says in return, then, he looks down at you, and you can’t control it anymore, you feel yourself falling apart, at how much you just…

How much you feel.

He stood up for you again from her, someone you can’t manage to stand up for yourself, the emotions are now overwhelming, the things you constantly want to hold back, the fears you should have and do have shoved back for just this moment. You take his hands in yours, as he looks down at you, concern written on his face, delicately wiping a tear.

“Come, too many onlookers, let us have privacy for a moment.” You nod then, letting him walk you out of the room, your tears catch the lights of the chandeliers above your heads, glinting in the evening. He leads you through a sea of lords and ladies, through an empty corridor, until he has you in a large study, shutting the door behind you.

It’s quiet for a moment, as he clicks the lock, then you can’t hold it in any longer, your tears, your feelings, as soon as he has turned to face you, you’re against him, pulling him down by the lapels of his jacket, tip toeing. You smash your lips on his, and he devours yours, kissing you over and over, hands cupping your face, tasting the salt of your tears.

His hands soon come to grip your waist, burning through the layers of your gown, finally he leans back, blue eyes flickering back and forth as he studies you, wiping more of the tears that flow. He’s quiet for just a moment, exhaling and then kissing your cheeks, your forehead, and you cling to his wrists, trembling.

“Thank you, Satoru. You didn’t have to do that.” You whisper finally, looking up at him through your watery gaze.

“It’s the very least I can do. What has she done to make you so… weak in front of her? Where’s the angry brat I’m used to?” You giggle a bit then, but he seems very serious, taking off your gloves slowly, a thumb brushing your wrist. “I have no right to ask more about you, but if you would share?”

You nod then, he sits you on the settee, coming to sit next to you, an arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you against him. “I was never good enough for her, Satoru, never ‘perfect’ enough. So I began to punish myself for my imperfections…” He gulps, his own eyes filled with emotions.

“I always thought you were so perfect, that it vexed me. Until I got to truly know you, and realize you… are quite a mess.”

“Hey!” He chuckles, as you shove at him, sniffling now.

“Beautiful mess.” You take a breath now, leaning closer, letting him brush your arm up and down gently.

“You make it difficult to keep hating you. Odd for a man so hateable prior.” He smiles sadly, snowy lashes lowering over his irises.

“I surely was easy to hate. So… the perfection was hard to reach for you? Where does it leave the rest of us?”

“Oh hush. No it was impossible, and soon I well… cut myself.”

Satoru gulps now, eyes glimmering. “Fuck.”

“Is this too-”

“No, I want to know you. Please.” You nod then, hearing the desperation in his voice, feeling yourself want him more, in ways you never knew, in ways that scare the fuck out of you, telling him things no one knew but Nan, and even she did not know all of it.

“I did it to punish myself for my inadequacy.” You whisper, his eyes flutter shut for a moment, pulling you even closer. “I went too far one night, when she was particularly cruel to me, I had been eating muffins in the kitchen. That’s why the scar is there, I cut too deep, then for a moment… I thought perhaps things would be better if-”

“No, no, no. Never. Would anything be better without you here.” He cups your face now, squeezing so hard you wince, and you can’t stop the break down, as he kisses you once more, soft brushes of once cruel lips. “I said that day that I wanted you not to exist, and I’ll never fucking forgive myself for it now. What if you hurt yourself due to me!?”

“Satoru, I didn’t, and I forgive you.” His jaw clenches.

“You shouldn’t! You shouldn’t!” He’s shaking you now, choking up on his own words, chest heaving with his breaths. You shake your head, running your hands up his chest now.

“I do forgive you for it. I do. You have to forgive yourself.”

“No, I will not. I’ll hate myself for you.”

“Satoru, you’re trying. I see it. I see you.” You swipe the moisture from his cheek now, and Satoru exhales, leaning in closer, hands on your waist, pressing in, your back against the chaise now, his body hard against yours.

“How can you forgive me?”

“Because I… because I feel… I am…” You can’t say it, fuck you want to, the words choke in your throat, and Satoru notices, now you’re on your back, pressed into the firm cushion, and he’s braced on top of you, as both of your hearts pound in your chests.

“I will never let you be hurt again, even if it’s me, even if I have to remove my goddamn self from your life. I swear it to you. I will never. Not your bitch mother, not some lady I was foolish enough to lay with, no one. I will protect you as long as you stay with me.” Your eyes are so full of tears it’s difficult to see, they’re falling down hot and sticky, as he leans so close you can feel his body weight on you.

“I believe you.” You say softly, voice breaking. “I forgive you.”

“How!?”

“Because I see what’s underneath, I see who you are. Yes it still fucking hurts, yes I’m terrified, but I am… I am…”

“Scared to say it.” He murmurs, and you nod. “Then let me say it.”

“Satoru, no…”

“I’m falling deeper in love every second I breathe your air, air I do not think I even deserve to share. Every time you smile it stabs me in the goddamn heart, the broken, fucked up heart that beats just for you.”

“Don’t!” You try to stop it, to stop his words, words that will end you, but Satoru will not allow it.

“It’s the truth, it is. You do not have to say anything back, fuck I do not deserve it, do not deserve any of you. Just know it is true, that my greatest regret is making the woman I am falling in love with hurt. The one I want to make feel so fucking good every day now, the one that deserves the world, deserves more than I could ever give. But I will try, I will try everything I can-”

“Satoru.” You cut him off then, as his words wrack through you, as he’s saying things that seem surreal.

“I’m sorry, it’s too much, it’s just that you consume me, kill me-”

“Satoru.” He sighs.

“You mean to crush me between your little fingers, do it, it’s yours.” He puts your hand on his heart, you feel it pounding against your palm.

“You have to forgive yourself.”

“No. I love you too much not to hate me.” His words ruin you, the intent behind them, the intensity, words you feel too, but fuck you’re still so afraid

“Stop it. I don’t hate you, quite the opposite.” His lips part then, glossy and tempting. “I should hate you.”

“You should.”

“Just… kiss me.” He slams his lips down on yours now, taking everything you ever thought you knew and knocking it over, his lips feel so perfect as if they were always supposed to be there, like there was nothing before him, and there is nothing but him.

“I shouldn’t get to kiss you.” He says as he leans up, hand on one of your thighs, sliding up your stocking clad leg, making you tremble. “I shouldn’t get to touch you. To exist near you.”

“Well guess what, I want you to. I want you. Yes you were a fucking ass, and yes I’m terrified, but let me decide what I want.” Your voice breaks once more as he finds you, hot and eager, when weren’t you for him? He moans softly as he feels you, as your hips arch up.

“Nothing has ever felt like this.” He murmurs, sliding two fingers in your soppy little entrance, stretching you out and making you gasp, covering your mouth to hide a cry as he studies you. “No one has ever felt like this. All I am thinking of is how badly I want you to forget that anyone ever touched you, kissed you. I want it all to be me.”

“You’re insane, you know that? Mnh…” You’re arching up for more of his touch, in some Lord’s study, in the middle of a ball, but it’s what you want, you want him more than anything, your cunt greedily sucking him in, soaking his fingers.

“I want you to be mine, Duchess. All mine. Selfish and greedy, I know. But I crave it, I want it, I need it. Only mine.”

“Fuck you talk too much.” You whisper, earning his scowl, and you can’t help but giggle before he’s shoving his third finger in your pussy, making you gasp, just to the first knuckle.

“Too much? Can’t take it?” He whispers, challenging you now, and it’s your turn to glare up at him.

“Maybe I want y-you to… forget about anyone.”

He chuckles as you hear your squishing wetness, hand moving under your gown, working you so good you’re getting closer and closer. “I already have. All I can see is you, even when I close my damn eyes.” His lips hover as he shoves his fingers deeper, moaning. “Feel her pulsing around them.”

“Ngh…” You’re so close when suddenly the door knob jiggles, and you gasp, pulling away, but he gently eases his fingers out, sucking you off him, the sticky honeyed arousal, moaning. “You’re insane!”

“You enjoy it, slutty girl.” He whispers, kissing you once more, and you’re so close it hurts, throbbing now.

“I hurt, fuck.” You curse, Satoru chuckles, helping you up, smoothing out your dress now.

“Come now, let us put on our airs, and don’t wobble, they’ll know.”

“Oh fuck you!” You shove him and he snatches you up, picking you up in his arms, your feet dangling as you cling to him.

“I’ll punish this dirty mouth later.” His words excite you, goddammit, everything about him does. When you all are dancing another set later on, you are dancing with Suguru and him with Shoko, it’s almost impossible not to throw yourself at him, you try to remember how much you should hate him, and those things are always in the back of your head, but now…

Now things aren’t as they were before.

“You wound me, Duchess.” Suguru says with a pout, you look up at his handsome face and smile. “And you smile at my pain!?”

“Oh hush, you just wanted to comfort me that night.”

“I’ll let you both think that.” He shoots a wink at you, earning your blush. “How is the puppy Satoru?”

“So good! You’re coming over for dinner, yes?”

“Yes, I look forward to knowing what happened in just a few days' time. I can’t say I’m not happy though, to see him so… in love.”

“You think he truly is?”

“I know he is. But I knew that, which is why it was so baffling, to watch him go against everything he felt, and be so nasty. It’s hard for me to forget that dinner.”

“I know, Lord Geto.” You sigh, as the song ends, and he kisses your hand, his long silky hair falling over one shoulder.

“I want you both to be happy. You let me know if we need to beat him.” You laugh softly as you give him a curtsy.

“Indeed. I may need you to, you never know.” You look then, to see Lady Elaine as well as four other women all over Satoru, as he looks right at you, drinking a glass of whiskey. Suguru also looks.

“He needs your rescue, Duchess.” You roll your eyes.

“Does he?”

“He’s mouthing ‘help me’. So.” You head over now, and Satoru grins, and fuck if it doesn’t do things to you, to see him happy in these moments, to see him like this, you wonder how long you can hold it in, the joy in what Satoru said to you.

Falling in love with you.

You should question it, question him, but all you can think of is how he said it, and what you felt when he did. How deeply in your soul you feel his words, words that Nanami had said, but for some reason, you didn’t react that way. You felt that terrible Nanami felt in such a way for you, because you knew you didn’t feel close, even then you knew.

Even when Satoru was horrible, even when you’d smacked him, when you’d spit such vitriol at each other, something was there, in his touch, in his gaze, filled with hatred, and oh you did hate him then. You still hate what he did, it’s not forgotten even if you have forgiven him, it’s in the back of your head taunting you, scaring you, but it doesn’t change anything, it doesn’t change how you feel.

How you feel seeing women around him, when you had grown so accustomed, when you let it go, got used to it. Now, however, they look at you, the woman who used to be so inconsequential, Satoru has one hand in his pocket, the other holding the little crystal glass tumblr. You clear your throat now, and Satoru smirks.

“My beautiful wife.” He says, earning the pouts of most of them, they all flit away but Elaine, who scowls at you now. You simply give her a smile.

“Lady Elaine.”

“Your Grace.” She spits out, as Satoru pulls you into his arms, kissing you right in front of her, earning her mouth dropping. “Ah, so romantic, I wonder what the Ton would think if they knew the truth? That you were with another man, right in the next room, and I heard- ah!”

You have spilled a drink all over Lady Elaine’s dress now, feigning innocent shock, as Satoru struggles to hide his chuckles. “Oh dear, I am ever so clumsy I fear, so sorry Lady Elaine!”

“You little bitch, I-”

“You mean your Grace.” Satoru says between his teeth, an arm around your waist as she scowls up at him, people are gathering around, whispering, clearly having heard.

“Would you like your husband to know your indiscretions?” You whisper, right against her face, hands clenched into fists. Her eyes lower, and she shakes her head now. “You slept with my husband, I’ve done you no wrong. You have no right to threaten me, but just know, you will not scare me.”

“He said he didn’t even want you, you know that right?” You choke up then, and Satoru scowls.

“You mean when I kicked you out and said I only wanted her?” She can’t meet your eyes, huffing and turning away now.

“Toxic insane couple.” You can’t help but agree internally, as she is stomping away. You and Satoru look at each other, as the past seems to keep trying both of you. “I swear it, I told her to leave.”

“I believe you.”

“You do!?”

You smile a bit at his surprise. “I do. I remember checking on you that night…” 

“I know, I was awake.” He caresses your face, peering around then, as people are murmuring about the couple so in love, and you feel the weight of their gazes upon you both. “Let us go home.”

“Home?” You say softly.

“Yes, the surprise awaits.”

“It better be a good one, all this build up.”

“I think you’ll like it, Princess.”

“The bed!? It’s…”

“Gone.” Satoru grins as he leads you into his bedchambers, a brand new four post bed in the room, it’s nothing like the other one. You hesitantly walk up to it, brand new blankets, brand new frame, brand new everything.

“You… you really did this?” You murmur, looking up at him, as he closes the door behind him, walking up to you in long strides, arms wrapping around your waist, pulling your back against him. You exhale, eyes fluttering shut at how good it feels.

“I will burn every piece of furniture in this manor if you wish me to.” He whispers in your ear. “If every piece gets me one more day with you.”

You turn in his hold, breasts heaving and rising with every labored breath, his face full of desire as you yank him down to you. “You would burn that table too?”

“I’ll burn the fucking table.” You moan then, letting his lips devour yours, his hands grip your ass, bringing his thigh between yours. “Feel that fucking heat.” He whispers, and you grind helpless, craving more, more.

“You’re still… a whore.” He smirks as he works the laces of your bodice, ribbon by ribbon.

“And you’re a slutty little Princess. Aren’t you? For me?” You cry out when your breasts spill out of your top, and he’s gripping them in his big hands, kissing you again, tongue sliding against yours, swirling in your mouth. Your tongue joins him and meets him, stroke for stroke.

“For you, against… mmm… better judgment.” He’s got your skirts on the floor, undoing your stays, your hands tremble as you slide off his jacket, unbuttoning his shirt, eyeing the marble perfection that he is, your eyes lock then, as you’re both panting, both messes, until you’re bare in front of him, and he drinks you in.

“You’re beautiful. So beautiful.”

“Stop making me fall for you. I hate it.” He pauses then, brows together, lips parted just so, as you feel yourself pouring your own goddamn heart on the floor. “I’m so scared to let you have it. What if you crush it?”

“Your heart?”

“Yes. Yes… I’m scared, Satoru. Scared to feel this.”

“Well I’m fucking terrified, Duchess.” You’re stroking him then, finding his hard length over his trousers, as he is grabbing your bare ass, moaning, kissing your lips brutally.

“Of feeling this?” You ask, weak when he’s picked you up, hoisting you onto the new bed, exhaling as he looks at you with insane eyes, shaking his head, hands slipping down your waist, your hips, thumbs pressing in.

“Of you leaving me, as you should. I can’t imagine living with it, knowing I pushed the one thing I love away.” He gulps now, and you feel it, his fear, his truth. “You don’t have to love me back, you can let me love you.”

“You’re so stupid. You’re so annoying. Why do you do this?” He sighs, a hand bracing himself up, your own fingers drift down the hard muscles of his abdomen, watching them tense under your touch.

“I cannot help but beg for you to stay with me. I’ll keep begging.” He’s found you again, your slick cunt that he’d so toyed with earlier, moaning as she responds to him, slick pouring out of you. “I’ll beg every moment for any of you.”

“Fuck you.” He kisses you now, you cling to him, back arching for more of his touches, as he kisses your neck.

“I’ll fuck you, Princess. Don’t worry.” You can’t even speak as he’s scissoring his fingers in and out of you, until you climax so hard you can’t see, gasping for breath. He’s kissing down your stomach, it’s too sweet, it’s too intimate, his eyes dilated as he looks up at you, big hands gripping your thighs. “I love your taste, I love your body, I love-”

“Fuck you.” You barely manage to say it again, he smirks against your thigh, before running his tongue up your slit, already over sensitive. You scream out, head pressing back against the pillows. “Fuck you for being so… good at that!”

“I love watching you cum.” You’re crying when he’s sucking your clit into his mouth now, a hand pressing on your tummy as he does, his tongue lavishing the underside of it with hot flicks, watching you fall apart. Your hands sink into his silky locks, pulling him closer, hips bucking up for more of him, feeling his moans vibrate your clit until he has you cumming again.

This orgasm washes through your entire body, leaving you weak, he slips up your body with kisses, it’s too sweet, it’s too much. It’s not rough and stupidly insane, he’s worshiping your body with his hands, his lips, his eyes. You feel everything about to explode as your feelings overwhelm you, especially when his hand entwines with one of yours, and your eyes meet.

“Fuck you for this.” He nods just a bit, as your free hand cups his face, the aftershocks of your orgasm wrecking your resolve. “You hit me or something, you choke me, you… call me a slut. Whatever you need, don’t do this, don’t.”

“Don’t make love to you?” He whispers, and you nod jerkily.

“I can’t take it if you do.” You gasp when he presses inside your soaking entrance, thick tip drooling precum as it slips in, and you’re trembling, panting, your nails digging into his perfect skin as he sinks into your heat. He moans as you do, hovering over you, just sitting there. “D-don’t look at me like this.”

“Like you’re beautiful? Precious? Like I love you?” Your lip trembles so much you bite it to stop it, as he gently rocks out and then inside your pussy, your walls fluttering around him.

“Yes, like that. Scowl or something.” You plead, sniffling as the tears won’t stop, but he shakes his head, pulling a thigh over his arm now, sinking deeper, gasping as his tip hits your cervix, and you’re blinded when he’s grinding on it.

“Let me love you. Please.” He begs now, bracing an arm next to your head and cupping your face as he slowly slides into you, and you feel it, your body responding, the heavy weight of him, the thickness of him inside you, his heart thrumming so wildly you feel it against your breasts.

“I’m scared.” He nods, kissing you now, pressing in again, and you both kiss as he rocks into you, as he rolls his hips just so, tip dragging on your spot, now you’re lost to him, blinded, as he lowers all your defenses.

“Then just let me say it. It’s… ah… you’re so fucking tight…” He trails off, his eyes rolling back for a moment, starting to pump into you, you’re soaking his length, clinging to him as he rocks into you, faster now, but still he’s not fucking your body. He’s fucking your mind. “I’ll only say it.”

“Shut up.” You kiss him once more, moaning into his mouth as he begins pumping his thick cock inside of you, you hear it even at his gentle pace, you hear how wet you are, mingling with your shared breaths, your cries. You get further lost in him, lost in those eyes that swirl, that glitter, those lips that kiss you, the sweat that drips off his brow onto your lips.

Satoru loses himself to you, as you lose yourself to him, as he’s making love to you in a way you never knew possible, a way that is so beautiful you can’t take it. You drown in it, drown in him, every cry and gasp and breath a part of a song, a song that is both of you, that is the undeniable fact you’ve tried to hide, to shove down, to push away at every moment.

That you…

“Feel s’good, oh my god. Tight little cunt. Fuck.” He’s cursing now, going just a little faster, you know he’s trying to keep it slow, but he’s lost in you, eyes intoxicated just like you are for him, his kisses the sweetest alcohol you could ever have, a dose of laudanum could not come close to the euphoria you feel.

“Ngh… Toru…” He moans at that, placing both of your thighs up higher, dragging your hips down and sliding his cock even deeper, so deep you can’t take it, his hand comes to your tummy now, moaning.

“Feel myself here, do you, Princess?” Satoru’s words make you blush even during sex, and he takes your hand, putting it on your tummy, you feel it then, his cock bulging your tummy.

“That’s…” You move your hand, and he tilts your chin down, to watch it as he leans up on his knees, you watch your stomach bulge as he presses in, gasping, your eyes locking with his again, before looking back down. Your cum is forming a creamy ring at the base of his cock, his long fingers sliding over your body, splaying the expanse of your waist.

“Look how deep I am. Mmm….” He’s moaning as he watches, and the intensity is so much, even more so when he finds your clit with his thumb, running in little circles on it, engorged and sensitive.

“Satoru!” You cry out, and he hisses when your walls clench him, tight like a vise, his head falling back, exposing that strong neck, before his eyes are back on you, and he’s fucking you so deep, so deep you feel him everywhere, and you’re shattering around him.

“That’s it, oh god, that’s it.” He’s trembling as he lays back on you, hand digging into your hip, pressing it down to shove in so deep you’re both screaming out together, clinging to each other. “Fuck I love you.”

“Stop it, stop it, mmm…”

“I do. I can’t stop it. I can’t stop it, fucking wanna cum in your little cunt, fill you up with my seed.”

“Satoru!” He’s moaning now, fucking quicker, harder, bringing you to the brink, fucking you right through your aftershocks.

“I won’t, I won’t… just wanna. Wanna breed you. Pretty fucking pussy. Pretty little face.”

“Goddammit.” You’re digging your nails into his back, and he just moans, eyes fluttering shut, kissing you again and again.

“Cum again, please, I’m close.” He whispers against your ear now, and you take several shaky breaths, convulsing under him as he starts fucking you hard, thrusts so goddamn good, pelvis smacking against yours over and over. “Let me feel you, my pretty little Princess.”

“N-no. Say slut or something!”

“No.”

“Fuck you so much.” He smiles just a bit, before moaning once more, slowing and thickening inside of you.

“Come on pretty, once more, can’t take her, too perfect.” You can’t anymore, you grip his face, rolling your hips up, earning his groan.

“I am falling in love with you too.” He gasps then, pausing, even as his cock is throbbing, and your cunt is soaking him, he does not move. He’s in shock, eyes looking wildly. “It doesn’t mean… I don’t… that I will… cum in me, fuck.”

“What!? You-”

“Cum in me. Please.” He groans now, pumping into you more and more, nearly sobbing with you as he kisses you, as he raises your thigh, fucking you into some other realm, like you’re floating, clinging to him to exist.

“Gonna cum in you, fill you up, hmm? You want it?” You nod eagerly against his neck as he moves, hitting that spot again with his tip. “Take it all, can you?”

“Yes, y-yes.” You manage to whisper, and now you he’s pulsing, and you feel your walls clamp down around his thickness, and he cums hard as he slams his lips on yours, his hot seed spilling into you, filling you so full. “Ah!”

“F-fuck…” He groans as you cum with him, your walls pulsing around him, his name on your lips, your name on his, his eyes never leaving yours, even as he’s lost in his own pleasure. He’s filling you with hot sticky cum, coating your walls, pumping in slowly now, letting out a shaky breath. “Painting your pretty insides. Princess…”

“Toru…” You whine as you both come down, sticky with sweat, and between your thighs his cum and yours drip down his length, a mess of arousal.

“Holy fuck I’ve never…” He shakes his head, and the weight of what you’ve both done hits you. “You truly love me? How?” He’s stroking your head, gulping, and you smile through more tears, struggling to come to, as he eases out of your pussy, a mess of fluids dripping, making you flush as you watch.

“I do not have an answer for how, only that I am falling. I’m scared that this happiness is fleeting. That this will end horribly. But I want this. Want you.” He kisses you again so deeply, moaning as his lips smack over and over, you’re shuddering at how good it feels, meeting his kiss each time, basking in how it feels.

It should be scarier, falling for Satoru.

It should terrify the fuck out of you, maybe it does.

But it also feels good. It feels good to say it finally, to put words to the things that have tortured you. “I won’t let your heart be hurt. I swear I’ll try everything.”

“I shall hold you to it.” You say, as he strokes your cheek, smiling so big, his smile makes you melt, filling your heart so full you think it will burst.

“Will you finally sleep in the bed?” He asks, and you bite your lip, nodding, then as he’s pulled you against him later that evening, wrapping an arm around your waist, you lay in Duke Gojo’s bed, with him behind you, already sleepy, already too damn comfortable. “Mmm, I never thought to have you here.”

“Satoru… you’ll do anything for me, you say?”

“Oh god… what is it?”

“I want you to get rid of the table.” You say with an evil little grin, raising your brows, Satoru laughs, shaking his head.

“I can get rid of the table. What else?” He pecks kisses on your cheek now, you sigh happily.

“That will do for now.”

“Mmm… good night, needy Princess.”

“Good night, Satoru.”

Gojo’s POV

The next morning you are the one up first, Satoru feels you brushing his hair back gently, he opens his eyes and smiles at you, you return in, blushing so pretty, your usually put together hair a mess from last night. You’re only wearing a little silk chemise, a pretty blue one that feels so soft against his bare chest, it’s nearly as soft as your skin, pressed against him.

You’re toying with his hair now, spiking it up and giggling, his thigh is between both of yours, his cock throbbing with need already, craving to be back inside of you, craving to cum in you again and again. He grabs one of your thighs now, hitching it over his, watching you bite your lower hip, your eyelids lower, desire filling your pretty eyes, mirroring his own.

He’s slipped your chemise up, grabbing your ass in his hand, his cock brushing over your slit, through thin material, which you quickly soak with your arousal. His heart races as your nails dig into his biceps, then your head falls back, he starts kissing down your neck, biting it then, hard, your skin between his teeth. Your nails dig in harder, your hips rolling as you grind against him.

Last night he’d wanted to make love to you, to show you how beautiful you are to him, how much he loves you, but of course, he loves when you’re a freaky brat too, and now he’s craving just that. He quickly turns you, to where your back is against him, the curve of your ass against his hard length, he pulls it out as he pulls your thigh high over his arms, starting to rub his tip against your folds.

“Satoru!” You cry out, voice cracking in the middle, your head falling back, he wraps his other hand around your neck, moaning as he finally kisses your lips.

“Want this cock in you, slutty brat?” He whispers, you respond so goddamn well, starting to soak him now, dripping wet and slippery as he slides more and more, pressing just a bit against your clit. His tip leaks precum on it, and you’re gasping now, so sensitive.

“Fuck you, Satoru.” He smiles against your neck, biting you again, feeling your body tense up, cunt gushing arousal all over him.

“You’re soaking fucking wet, slutty pussy.”

“Mnh…” You look back at him then, eyes dilated, lips parted, your pretty breasts rise and fall with each breath.

“Want me to break you, Princess?”

“Shut up and fuck me, Satoru.” He moans, fuck he loves your bitchy attitude, he wants to fuck it right out of you then back into you.

“No fingering? That needy?” He asks, and you whine then, reaching back and grabbing his cock, placing it at your entrance, he groans then, feeling his tip push past the tight ring of muscles, you start cumming just from that, little hole tightening, making him shiver at how good it feels.

“Oh my god. Please.” You whisper.

“So sweet suddenly? Need something?” He presses in deeper, pulling back out, earning your huff of irritation, before he shoves his cock deeper now, your walls fluttering around him, feeling so fucking good he can’t take it. “Mmm…”

“More, more… I need more.” You plead so prettily, a hand reaching back to grab at his arm as he fucks into you fully, bottoming out in your tight little cunt, stuffing you so full, cursing at how perfect you feel. You’re made for him, you must be. “Satoru!”

“Desperate, cumming and I’m not trying.” He earns your scowl back at him now, but he fucks it away quickly, tip bullying against your cervix now, thinking about busting so deep inside you, filling you up again.

“You talk too bloody much.” You say angrily, so he smirks, fucking into you harder, lifting your thigh and pounding your cunt now. You fall apart around him, moaning loudly, and he kisses your neck, fucking you through it, feeling your walls tighten.

“That’s a good little slut, so perfect. You’re made for me.” You’re shaking now, he can tell you’re sensitive, overstimulated, so he decides to torture you worse, reaching  around your hip, his thumb pressing into your clit.

“F-fuck, too much!” You’re wriggling now, so he starts to thrust even harder, you’re so wet for him, soaking his hand, soaking the sheets.

“Too much, thought you could take it? ‘Fuck me Satoru!’”

“I hate you.” You turn your head to him, eyes narrowed even as they’re cock drunk on him, he grins as he gets you close again, rubbing your clit as he fucks your soaking wet little cunt, your glare turning him on as much as when you yank on his hair, dragging his lips to yours. “I can take it, you… arrogant… ah!”

“That’s it, cum like a good little whore f’me, only me.” He huffs, and then drinks your cries, as you convulse against him. Fuck you feel so good, he tenses now, as your walls try to milk him, and your eyes are rolled back, mouth lolled open, cumming on his cock all over again. “Want me to fill you up again? Make you so fuckin full of me?”

He’s pressing on your stomach, imagining you round with him, for some reason it makes him fucking feral, changing everything he’s ever known or thought. You are nodding eagerly, barely whispering his name, he grins as he realize he’s fucked your thoughts out of your head. He wants it to be him and only him there, just as you are all that’s inside his head.

You’re everything.

“Then beg for it.”

“Fuck off!”

“Beg for it, brat. Wanna have my baby?” You whine out again, taking several breaths.

“This is madness…”

“You’re madness.” He kisses you again, feeling your soft lips melding to his, as he pushes in so deep and rocks inside you.

“Please.” You whisper finally, and he moans and starts spilling inside you, coating your velvety walls with so much cum it’s insane. You seem to make him cum a ridiculous amount every fucking time. You are pulsing around him, as he’s throbbing in you, as if she wants to milk more.

“G-greedy pussy, she wants more?” He manages, eyes rolling back in his head as he slowly pushes more, you just nod, a weak little whimper.

Satoru eases out of you then, watching the mess of cum dribble out of your pussy, he reaches down and slides a finger through it, bringing it up to your mouth, and you suck it clean. You’re looking so pretty with your cheeks flushed, hairs sticking to your damp forehead, looking up at him through your lashes, and he’s lost again, lost in you.

“I’ll never let you out of this bed.” He says then, and you laugh a bit, caressing his cheek. “I’m so in love with you, evil succubus.”

“Succubus?”

“It’s a sex demon-”

“Satoru! You’re awful.” He just smirks, pressing you down on your back now, kissing down between your perfect breasts, your hips shift now, as his hands set on your little waist and you brush his hair back. “Should this feel so natural?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never felt this.” He says, sincerely, as you hold his heart in your pretty little hands, and now he knows he has yours, something he doesn’t deserve, but he craves it. Needs it, needs you, like a consuming madness that increases with every moment he breathes.

“Me either.” You whisper, easing his fears, his worries. He kisses your tummy, picturing it now, full of him, making him hard again.

“Let’s stay in bed all day. Fuck duties.” He says, and you laugh, shaking your head at him. “What, we never had a honeymoon.”

“No, we didn’t, we…”

“I was terrible.” He rests his head on your chest, loathing setting in, but you do not rub it in his face, his mistakes, you just sigh, brushing his hair back, and fuck it feels so good.

“We have things to do, lazy Duke.”

“Lazy!?”

You’re grinning as he leans up, then the servants are knocking, and he sighs, kissing you over and over. He wants to stay in this bubble, he’s so terrified of what can come between you both, especially last night. Your mother’s cruelty, Lady Elaine being a royal bitch, you both handled it, but how much of his own mess would he have to deal with?

Your POV

Another day in town, this time a much better off part of Satoru’s estates, but it still required much work as well. The villages are already much improved, you and Satoru are starting to feel so good about it all, about what you are doing together. Today you’re focusing on more fortunate people certainly, but there still are many matters you both need to attend to.

You are talking to some of the tenants as Satoru does more negotiating, when suddenly you see a tall dark haired businessman in a suit, and recognize him as the lawyer, Nanami’s friend Higuruma. You pause, blinking a bit, seeing him speaking to one of the business owners across the street, only for Nanami Kento to walk out with him.

You feel sick to your stomach when his hazel eyes catch you, knowing you have done just what he thought you would, and his lips set into a stern line as Satoru comes out of the building, pulling you against him, smiling. You cannot smile back, you’re panicking now, chest so tight, as you begin to remember, the hurt on Nanami’s face, the fucking pain you caused.

“Too long with stuffy men, need my bratty Princess.” He murmurs, kissing you gently, and it feels so good, but you know then, who’s watching. You try to pull away a bit, to explain, when suddenly Nanami is standing right in front of you both.

Satoru scowls at him, pulling his lips off you, and you look between the two men now, throat tightening even more as the panic sets in, as everything around you seems to almost spin, getting dizzy. Nanami scowls at Satoru right back, jaw clenched, his hand in a fist on his briefcase. Higuruma comes quickly, putting a hand on Nanami’s shoulder.

“Nanami…” He cautions.

“It’s you.” Satoru growls, stepping up to him now. You panic further, chest heaving as you put a hand to it.

“It’s you.” Nanami growls right back.

You look between them in horror, the man you came to when Satoru was being his most cruel, and you ended things with him, and now the man who had been so cruel, you’d woke up in his arms. You had let him cum in you, fuck you begged him to, so quickly too, as if everything Nanami said about you was true. You read the hurt all over his face, and the fury on Satoru’s.

You mutter under your breath then…

“Shit.”

This was a long one, was it too long aha? Let me know your thoughts I always appreciate hearing them!

Taglist is too many apparently lol! I'll tag the rest in comments <3 @kalopsia-flaneur @bunheadusa @7thsthings @disilluzions  @antisocialinlw @Sukunassfinger @lelsforlino @heeknow @muvasuperior @prince-wyiilder @lavender-hvze @ssetsuka  @labelt-san  @sadmonke @philiatothephobia @ambiguouslady42 @stromynight @dreamygirli3 @jjknanamin @jazlenekasi @victoriaaaa00 @wuvnada @valleydoli @nanasukii28 @sw3etnena @dark-agate @tamaki-simp @yuuuumii @givluv2tyy

Until Next Time, Masochistic Readers

Part Twelve Here