#you'll have to fight the ones standing in your way but there are so many more that are just lurking on the sidelines

[gummi-ships]

Kingdom Hearts 0.2 Birth by Sleep - A Fragmentary Passage - Forest of Thorns

[neverendingford]

.

[pyrodolls]

imagine all the yandere monsters in your village obsessed with you, the only human

naturally, you are seen as the monarch of the village. the only thing every creature can agree on, is that they love and respect you. even though you're not really interested in any of them.

THE WEREWOLF is the most aggressive of the creatures within the village. he’s the one that everyone fears. he isn’t the strongest, but he’s the one that never backs down from a fight. he’s the one that would shed anyone’s blood in your name without hesitation. he’s the one that doesn’t even try to hide the disgusted look in his eyes that flashes every time you lend someone else your kindness and attention. he always fantasizes about ripping them to shreds and carrying you away to safety.

he's boastful, and loud. he constantly challenges others to fights-- especially in front of you. he thinks you'll be impressed by his strength, and the more he shows off and wins fights, he'll also win your heart. he'd rip some poor nymph to shreds and hold the heart up to you, hoping you'll be proud of him and spare at least a glance his way. maybe even say he did a good job or perhaps tell him that he's oh so strong and courageous.

if only you treated him as more than a lapdog. if only you looked at him with the same adoration that he looks at you with. he’ll glare at everyone but you. he’ll ignore and growl at everyone he sees, because they're not you.

his infatuation with you is more than a respect for your royalty. deep down, he yearns to be by your side. he doesn’t need the power that you have, just as long as he’s the one with you. as long as he’s the only one that can stay with you and protect you from harm. he’ll stand at your guard for hours if you requested him to do so. he’ll happily accept your request with a rare sway to his tail.

he needs to be your guard. he needs to make sure you’re safe at all times or else he will deem himself worthless. with his sharp teeth, long claws and piercing stare, almost anyone would be frightened by the giant, aggressive werewolf at your side.

but no matter how rough and tough he acts; he’ll always crumble the second your hand raises up to his head to scratch or pat him on the head.

THE HARPY is the one that lusts after you the most. she's raunchy, easygoing, and mischievous. plus, of all the creatures, the harpy is the bluntest. she’ll gleefully and casually mention to you all of her wicked fantasies. every morning, she flies around trying to find you, and once she does, she goes on and on about the things she’s imagined you two doing. the other creatures are far more ashamed of their urges, thinking that they’re dirtying your image as their monarch. but the harpy? she doesn’t give a flying fuck if you’re the ruler or a peasant. she’s imagined your body in thousands of ways, none of them have to do with your status.

even though you have always rejected her advances, she’s always going to keep trying. she’s convinced that you’re just shy and in denial of your feelings. she’s convinced that you’re destined to be hers. she started doing outlandish things to catch your attention and get you out of your shell. she started physically touching you more, such as kissing your cheek and laying on your lap. she thinks you're in love with her, no matter how many times you blatantly tell her that you're not interested.

she revels in the other creatures’ jealousy and hatred of her. she knows the others only think of her as a dirty harlot, ruining the valiant image of their ruler. but she couldn't care less about what others think. she barely even cares what you think. she knows what she wants, and nobody will stop her from getting it. not even you.

THE FAIRY is the most envious of them all. fairies are known for being small and weak. he knew you weren't going to like him. that's why he desperately tried to get your approval the moment he met you. he always leaves you small gifts and watches from afar as you collect them, hoping that it'll be something that you enjoy. he knows that pixies are generally the ones that leave small gifts, but he had to find some way to gain your favor. he's only 6 inches tall and could easily be stomped on by the other creatures. so that means he isn't strong, or incredibly intelligent, or immortal. he has nothing going for him compared to the others, so all he can do is be as kind as possible to you.

deep down, he's aware that he doesn't stand a chance. but he keeps trying. he knows he loves you more than any of the other creatures can say. he would be kind to you. he would follow your every command. he would do whatever you want him to do. he just wants you. it doesn't matter how you treat him or what you do to him. sure, if you hurt him, he won't be very happy about it, but he'll still be grateful that you even looked his way and gave him a chance.

he's usually very friendly and giving towards others, and especially to you, but behind closed doors, he's cruel towards those that you show love and affection to. he knows it's wrong. he knows you would probably be mad at him for his behavior. but he can't help it. everyone else is so much bigger and stronger than he is. deep down, he knows they could protect and take care of you better than he can. so, his inferiority complex shifts into anger that he takes out onto them. and if they happen to snitch on him, he'll just start fake crying. you'd comfort him and tell him everything's okay, because you trust him! he's the one that is so small, gentle, and always gifts you, so he'd never do anything wrong...

THE VAMPIRE has a strategy to winning you over. she's one of the eldest, most intelligent and calculated creatures in the village. over the course of the couple thousand years that she's been alive, she never had any romantic interest in anyone until she met you. you changed something in her. she's always been very formal, and polite, but you awoke something new in her. something... possessive and perhaps even controlling. after meeting you, she suddenly had the urge to take care of you. as she unfortunately cannot be in the sun, so she watches you from afar. follows you from a distance, making sure you are safe. she's ready to step in as soon as she needs to, in order to protect you.

she's more likely to take a friendlier, respectful approach compared to others. unlike the vulgar harpy, or the overly submissive fairy, she's more formal and respects your authority as their leader. every night, she walks around your house and if you happen to come out, she pretends she was "on her way home" and says that it "would be a lovely time to go for a walk" and you assume she was telling the truth.

the best part about having a plan such as hers, is that the other creatures have no idea that she's interested in you. they go to her for advice and try to ask for her help in courting you. they trust her, not knowing she'll ruin them once she knows their plans in wooing you. and they'll never know that it was her, because she's the beautiful older woman in the village that has never caused any problems! everyone loves her. and soon, you will too.

she's patient. everyone else is in such a rush to make you theirs immediately, but she knows you're worth waiting for. she knows that in the end, she'll come out on top, and you'll be hers. all she must do is wait.

THE ELF is one of the shyest. she's looked down upon in the village for being too timid and messy. with frizzy hair, pointy ears, and a dreadful fashion sense, she stays in her dingy little shack in the woods, crafting weapons and houseware to sell to the villagers. every month, she begrudgingly makes her visit to the village's market to display and sell her things, then go straight back home. she dreads seeing others, feeling safe only in the solitude of the quiet woods.

she always knew of a human monarch ruling over the land, but she didn't bother investigating for herself. she wanted to just make and sell her goods, then lurk in the outskirts of the village in peace. but one day, you just happened to be at her usual selling place.

she dropped all her items in a few baskets, standing by ready to give them away. that's when you approached, offering a generous sum of money to purchase items that were rumored to "be of high quality" from the other villagers. the second she saw you, her heart almost stopped. she knew the monarch was supposed to be beautiful, but she wasn't aware you were going to look that good. she quickly and awkwardly wrapped the items in leaves, handing them to you and feeling her heart skip a beat when your fingers brushed against hers. she thanked you, bowing her head so you wouldn't see how red her pale skin became. you simply walked away without saying anything else.

she replayed that moment over and over again in her head on her journey back home. should she have said something else? should she have refused your money or given you more items? should she have wrapped your items in something fancier than random leaves she picked from the forest? god, you probably think she's a loser now. you probably dislike her just as much as everyone else does. she maybe even offended you, because she didn't recognize you at first.

she spent that whole night rethinking her entire life choices. and the night after that. and the night after that. and that whole week. and the next week. then the next. until it was time to sell her things again. this time, she would be prepared for your arrival.

she spent that month lurking around the village, overhearing the things people said about you. she never knew there was so much competition to win your heart! she'd definitely have to study your interests to win you over.

every day, she peeked into your castle and carefully inspected your bedroom. she studied your clothes, hair, accessories, decorations, and more. she took note of it all, storing it in her memory to use later in order to impress you and show that she would be the best candidate for your affections.

when the day came for her to publicly return to the village, she made sure her hair was nicely put together, instead of the usual frizzy look. she made sure her clothes weren't so tattered and dirty, and she was wearing your favorite color. she made sure her goods were clean and wrapped nicely in cloth that she sewed herself, based on the designs on your castle's carpet.

she waited and waited. the usual customers came by, surprised that she seemed more put together-- but she didn't spare them a single glance. she was just looking for you. where were you? did you not like her goods? or maybe her initial thoughts were correct: her first impression was so terrible that you hate her, and you'll never see her again.

it was late at night, way past her curfew. she was packing her things ready to return home and cry herself to sleep after you didn't show up. until she finally spotted you in the distance, walking next to the vampire lady.

she felt her face go red in embarrassment. what was she even thinking? of course you're into someone else. she spent an entire month obsessing over you to the point where she mended her appearance to impress you and maybe get you to spend more time with her. but it was all for naught, wasn't it?

but maybe... she can keep trying. she put in so much effort. she tried so hard to EARN your approval, instead of trying to seduce you like that old ass vampire. she's never felt this way for anyone before. she hates everyone else. she hates talking to people, spending time with people. they've never liked her anyway. but you didn't hate her. you just purchased her goods with an incredible amount of money and never insulted her or raised a single finger on her. she'll never forget that. she'll always be grateful for that. in return, she'll make herself better for you. she'll change, and you'll be nice to her again... maybe even love her just as much as she loves you... right?

THE MERMAN is one of the cutest, yet the most codependent and manipulative of them all. he's just a defenseless merman; he can't go on land! you'll have to visit him every day and talk to him, or else he'll go mad. you can't leave him alone for a single day, because he has no other friends. that would be so rude of you.

every day, he sits and waits for you, posing prettily on the biggest rock on the beach. if anyone were to flirt or try to talk to him, he'd usually roll his eyes and swim away. he has a bit of a reputation for being the most handsome creature out of everyone else in the village. but no matter how many villagers attempt to charm him, none of them have ever caught his eye. in fact, they often leave the beach crying in despair after he rejects them with no remorse or kindness. he'll insult them and bluntly tell them he would never be interested in them.

because you're the only one he wants.

he sees your riches. your beauty. your power and intelligence. he's attracted to all of it. he fantasizes every day about being with you. he knows that you're human and you can't be with him all day, but he can't bare being away from you for so long! he's tried multiple times to crawl on land, but he just can't do it without fainting and being carried back to the sea by one of his fellow merfolk.

he begs you to spend as much time as you can with him. he is overjoyed the moment he sees you walking towards his spot at the beach. he starts squealing and splashing around, doing a few tricks to impress you. he immediately starts bombarding you with questions, asking how you are and what you're doing later, subtly wrapping his tail around your arm so you can't walk away. he talks to you nonstop, trying to make you stay. he knows you are royalty, and you have your duties, but they can't be more important than him.

every time you even hint at leaving, he starts getting emotional. what do you mean you're leaving soon? don't you know what you mean to him? you know you're his only connection to the outside world and the land. you're one of his only friends. you can't just leave him. don't you know how much he cares about you? don't you know how many people he's rejected for you? don't you know how many hours he spent combing through his hair with a fork he found lying washed up on the sand? don't you know how many hours he spent trying to polish his scales, making them shinier to catch your eye? he tried so hard to look all pretty for you, and now you're just going to leave?

wait, you'll come back tomorrow? oh, okay. well, why didn't you just say that sooner? just don't keep him waiting too long. even though you're leaving, he'll stay lying on his rock, staring at your castle with a longing look in his teary eyes, waiting for your return.

[yanderedrabbles]

What's the worst thing Yan Military Contractor has ever done to the reader?

Yandere! Military Contractor

The very worst? Now that's tough competition. He's fucked you raw so many times that afterwards you can only curl up and whimper, legs aching so bad you can't stand. He's bitten you so hard that he's left a scar of his teeth on your thigh. He's bent your arm so very far up your back that on bad days your shoulder still aches. He's done anal without any prep or lube.

But the very worst? That happened on the day you almost escaped.

He likes to humour you. Likes letting you try and get away, just to drag you back at the last second. Likes the way you fight so much harder when freedom is so very close. But he never once entertained the thought of you actually succeeding.

You're too damn clever sometimes. Too smart for your own good.

You planned your escape carefully this time. Waited for a rainy day when he'd have trouble hearing your footsteps and seeing your tracks. Managed to make a mess in his armory and get out of a second story window when he was distracted counting his guns. And then you ran.

You saw a tree out on your forced walks once. Thick oak with branches that just about reached over the fence. It would be a hard fall, but if you managed to not snap an ankle you'd be home free.

He almost found you. You were up in the branches, rain pelting you in thick sheets when he walked right under you. It was pure luck that you noticed him in time. Even without the noise of the rain to cover his footsteps, he was dead silent.

He looked pissed. But that wasn't what made your heart drop.

He had his gun with him. Not one of the rifles or shotguns. That might have almost been better. Those guns felt unreal, felt like something out of a movie. No, he was carrying his chrome .50 calibre Desert Eagle.

You hated that gun. It was the one he carried on him almost all the time, the one he had the day he took you. Huge, mean looking thing. 'One of the nastiest shots you'll ever see,' he told you once.

It was scratched with years of use. A soldier's gun. A killer's gun.

You fingers went numb on the branch before you had the courage to keep moving. You dropped down on the other side of the electric fence, landing bad. You smacked a hand over your mouth to stifle your yelp.

Staggered to your feet, holding onto the trees to take the pressure off your stinging ankles. You did it.

You actually fucking did it.

You were free. Actually, finally free. You half didn't believe it until you reached the end of the trees and open farm land stretched in front of you. The rain was so much worse without the trees to protect you, but you didn't care. An empty field of wheat had never looked so damn good.

"On your knees."

You froze. No. No.

"I said, get on your fucking knees!"

You sat so fast that you felt lightheaded.

He came to stand in front of you, blocked your view of the open land and your last chance to escape. He was scowling, hand gripping his gun so tight that veins were standing out on his forearm.

The rain was sheeting down around you, running past the grooves and catches of his pistol. You couldn't see his face through the rain, but you could feel his eyes. Raking down your body, burning.

He pointed the gun at you, cocked it. The metallic sound of it somehow the loudest thing you'd ever heard.

"Open your mouth."

"I'm sorry! Please just-"

"Open. Your. Mouth."

You did. He forced the barrel passed your lips, all the way to the back of your throat. Your teeth scraped the metal.

It tasted bitter. Iron, gunpowder. It tasted like your death.

His finger was on the trigger. One little twitch, one inopportune gag, and you were done.

"Suck it."

You did, crying so damn hard but terrified to make a sound.

"No," he snarled. "Suck it like you would a cock."

He grabbed your hair, yanked your head back. "Show me why I shouldn't kill you right here and now. Remind me exactly why I keep you around."

You sucked his gun like your life depended on it. Tongue out, drooling, like you weren't a hairs breadth from death. Looked up at him with rain and tears pouring down your face.

You must have given him one hell of a show. When you couldn't take it anymore, when you were shaking from the cold and your lips were turning blue around the metal, that's when he pulled out. One hand still in your hair, he pointed the gun at the sky and pulled the trigger. The gunshot echoed over the trees.

Fuck. You really did just have a loaded gun in your mouth.

He holstered it, grabbed your jaw with the hand that just held your death.

"Never again. Yeah?"

"Yeah."

[silknspice]

hockey!vi and basketball!caitlyn decide it's time to stop fighting over you. they'll just have to share!

headcanons, arguing, smut/slutty material (18+ mdni), dom!cait & vi, gp!vi, cheerleader!reader (hardly mentioned), vi & cait r horny and reader's hard-to-get-but-also-horny. wc. 2k

vi's a big, bulky, 'gentleman' of a player. girls come and go from her poster-covered dorm room, and it's fine, because she has bigger things to worry about, until she meets you. the post-game crowd is a chaotic swarm of students, and still, she spots you with ease. you're with a friend that she somewhat recognizes, but the athlete swears on her life she's never seen you. she would've remembered a pretty ass face like that. the two of you are making conversation with one of her teammates, and almost immediately the pinkette's jogging up to the cluster of you and slinging an arm over the other player.

she's decorated with a big fat grin like always, cooing a sexy "hey there," that has her teammate rolling her eyes into the back of her head, but not the way vi intended. you're introduced, a sweet smile gracing your lips that vi wants buried between the flesh of her thighs, lips that she wants gasping for life as she ravishes you, lips that she swears just made her cock twitch.

"you gonna be looking for me at the after party?" she cocks her head in fake innocence. what an asshole. "maybe if you score some more next time," you dismiss her with a tucked away grin, politely biding her teammate and spinning off out of the dumbfounded butch's sight. her teammate sharply inhales, patting the girl who looks like she's just seen a ghost. "tough luck, vi," the athlete starts, "wouldn't have worked anyway, i heard she's messing with kiramman."

caitlyn won the race to your attention. it's one of the many things she adores holding over vi's head when they have their daily bicker-fests over anything and everything related to you. she’d always believed in finders keepers.

the bustling, alcohol scented, dim atmosphere encasing her is completely forgotten as her gaze lands on you, a red solo cup in hand as you make conversation with who she assumes to be your teammates. she squares her shoulders, standing a little taller as her fellow athletes notice the look she's giving you. a predator ready to pounce. little whistles of encouragement fall from their lips as she strides on her mission to you.

the navy haired beauty knows she's hot, knows damn well anyone would slide their way under her as soon as the words of approval coat her tongue, and knows that you'll be one of her most– no, the most rewarding catch she's had. except, her trap seemed to falter.

"you were great today," she flashes a soft smile, attempting to make sure the way she checks you out is subtle, less cocky and more in awe. "watched when i could, i see why they put you in front." "oh yeah?" you hum out, sipping from your cup. it's basic, not giving much for caitlyn to work with, but the glint in your eyes is giving the athlete all too much hope. "yeah," she sounds a little breathless. her eyelids drop and soften to mimick the arousal she's feeling from just eyeing your fuckable face. "must be real flexible to do all that. think you could show me some more?" her prim and enchanting accent is completely contradicting the nasty insinuations falling from her mouth. that has you gently shaking your head and scoffing– albeit, with a smile, caitlyn notes. "you're funny, cait." and that's all you leave her with. that, and the image of you gently swaying your hips while walking off. the image that she'll be replaying in her head as she tends to her needs later that night. it makes sense to her a few days later during practice. when she and her teammates are lazily walking off of the court, one of them explains your oh so suspicious behavior. "heard she's interested in vi. sorry hotshot, looks like you've met your match."

from then on, the two are completely at each other's throats. it starts off small when they bump into each other at the campus coffee shop. they're patiently waiting for their drinks. caitlyn's arms are crossed as always with her hair in a messy pony, and vi's hands keep refuge in her pockets while her shoulders slightly slouch in a relaxed manner. they're completely ignoring the other's presence, until vi physically has to speak up.

"so... ___" she says your name like a child praying to their goddess. caitlyn hums in response. "i hate to be the one to tell you, but she's completely out of your league." "well i don't know what she'd see in a narcissistic mongoose like you," vi quips. cait scoffs. "and i'm not sure why she'd ever give someone as run through as you the time of day... wait, mongoose?"

soon, it's not one that's pursuing you at a time, it's both. at parties, after games, walking to class, even in the library, the two girls are drawn to you like moths to light. and sure, they're still very interested in fucking you senseless if you let them. and sure, they don't know you all too well yet, but something about you is so captivating. whether you'll give them the time of day or not, they crave being in your presence. (the rivalry is making things a little more fun than expected, too.)

you're interested, extremely interested. but these girls are used to getting everything they want in the blink of an eye. you know your worth, so if they want to take you, and not just your ability to walk, they're going to have to work for it. in record time, the university of piltover's finest were wrapped around your dainty finger. so, slowly, you let them into your life.

at first, it's smaller things. in the morning, caitlyn worms her way into the plush seat next to you at your library table. she sets down your coffee order to a T, saying she "had some extra time" (which isn't a lie, she woke up an hour earlier than she already does to make sure her timing was perfect), and she "didn't know what you'd like", so she 'guessed' (that part was a lie, because she fell asleep thirty minutes later than usual stalking your instagram highlights and zooming into the label of your most recent drink). in conclusion, the star player was losing sleep over you, and she didn't know how to feel about that.

then, like switching shifts, vi swoops into the library and whisks you away, but not before making a remark that has the navy-haired girl's brows furrowing.

"i'll take it from here, cupcake. angel and i have a date." the pinkette lifts your backpack from the ground and slings it over her shoulder before you can utter a word. "you're walking me to class, violet. 'ts not a date..." you dismiss the claim, looking caitlyn in the eyes as you bring the coffee to your lips and take a swig. "..yet," you induce some hope and fear into the respective girls. as you coo your mind-twirling sing-song "bye cait," and walk away, vi can't help but snake a hand around your waist before throwing a terribly taunting wink to the bluenette over her shoulder.

eventually, after more interrupted touches and argument after argument, the girls attempt to seduce you on their own turf. after a particularly hard but victorious game, cait jogs up to you. the flyaways of her ponytail are the sexiest amount of messy and the sweat dripping down the side of her neck and rounding towards her adams apple has you gulping. but of course, you hide it. you admit, she's impressed you, and the seemingly suave girl fights the beaming smile she feels sneaking its way onto her face. instead, she thanks you for cheering for her and gently grazes her hand over the hem of your blue and white skirt.

"is this my reward for playing so well?" she grins. "this is my uniform, hotshot."

after vi's hockey game that she insisted you come to, she sneaks up on you after exiting the locker room, capturing your frame from behind with sculpted arms. the two of you stiffle a few laughs before she turns you around, pulling your torso closer to hers.

"how'd I do?" she asks, the neediness of approval hidden somewhere in her tone.

"i guess you were good," you joke, making vi gently pinch at your side. "yeah?" she teases, "how good?" "not good enough, at least I score." caitlyn buts in from 'out of nowhere!' (vi claims), momentarily stunning whatever tension you and the pinkette were building. "i scored three times," the powder-blue eyed girl slightly pouts, sending you into a fit of laughter.

it's vi who steals a kiss from you first. you finally give in after realizing maybe she wants something a little more than sex. it's hungry, slight teeth, lots of tongue, and sloppy hums of pleasure. wandering hands travel to the back of your head, through your hair, down to the curve of your waist, everywhere she can claim you.

caitlyn, when she finds out a day later, is pissed. so when she finally gets her hands on you, she's rougher than she planned on being when she ran this scenario through her head hundreds of times before. she's pushing you against a wall, knee slotted between your legs, and a lanky hand trails up to grip your chin. it's rough, hypnotizing, and you have to stop her before she makes an absolute mess of you.

it's no surprise when the girls text you to meet up a few days later. what is a surprise is the fact that they're together. they send you a selfie from vi's phone in your shared group chat. vi looks delicious in her stupid backwards baseball cap and caitlyn's glasses only enhance that scarily sexy cold look she owns. the picture's lazy, a lower angle of the two looking at the camera with soft grins, but it has your heartbeat racing, and something else pulsing their names.

ice queen: angel come 2 cait's ice queen: we miss you <3 angel: and if I don't? hotshot: you'll regret it. angel: is that a threat? hotshot: jesus, get over here.

caitlyn and vi take turns using you for the rest of the night. they wait for you to make the first move, of course, they have manners. once you're all hot and bothered you hear the clank of their belts coming undone and flashes of clothes being stripped off fill your vision.

cait only spends so long teasing your swollen clit before she's two fingers and three knuckles deep inside of you, teasing your clouded brain about adding a third. the wet sounds your body's making are getting vi the hardest she's been in her life, and she swears she could cum just from the way your glossy eyes look up at her while cait ravishes you. "look at that- i'll be the one to make her cum first." cait taunts, and as soon as you've reached your high the pinkette's stripping you away from her and flipping you onto your stomach.

vi's gentler than caitlyn at first, but her passion and desires enchant her mind and soon she's stuffing your needy hole with her length, face down ass up, while pushing your head into the pillow that captures your lovely noises.

it's not long before caitlyn's sitting in front of you with her legs spread wide, guiding your tongue right where it belongs.

you all sleep in the same bed that night. you in the middle, of course, and your girls clinging to you lovingly. the three of you talk about everything and nothing at the same time, and the silly conversations lull you into a deep sleep.

some day soon, you'll have to talk about whatever this is. for right now, vi and caitlyn relish in the fact that they have you. brain, heart, body and all.

sharing isn't all that bad.

silknspice

[ailoda]

updated: 09.03.25

ᯓ★ smut

Delirium (✘): stranded in the middle of the alaskan wilderness with no means of communication after being exposed to a foreign drug, you're reluctant to accept help from the one person who has a shot at saving you. - avenger!reader (@flowersforbucky) (warning: sex pollen, i.e., dub-con, explicit verbal consent prior)

Special Girl (❤❅✘✧): being friends with benefits definitely has its perks, especially when the friend in question is as hot as Bucky Barnes - but when you're feeling insecure about the arrangement, Bucky makes it clear to you that you're more than just a friend. @kinanabinks) (warning: mentions of neglectful childhood)

Scary? My God, You're Divine (❤✘): your marriage to Bucky Barnes was crucial in stopping the rivalry that had been getting rather violent recently between the two families. You agreed to it. But there was one little problem. Although people knew of Bucky as being a ruthless, fiercely loyal, and feared hitman, no one had ever seen his face. In the rare occasions when he’d been seen out during assignments, it was rumoured that he always wore some sort of mask which covered most of his face. So you ended up marrying a man, and had no idea what he looked like. But surely that wouldn’t be an issue. It’s not like his one touch would get you addicted. Who cared what he looked like? It’s not like you could grow to love someone like him anyway… right? - mob!au (@sinner-as-saint)

Sting (✘): TattooArtist!Bucky praising you during a session. (@adrinktostopyourthirst)

↪︎ Fling (✘): your tattoo artist left you hanging and you’re fed up enough to come and collect his excuse. (part two)

Blurred Lines (❤❅✘✧): when choosing a female agent to send back in time to gain young Sergeant Barnes's trust, everyone's in agreement that it should be Sharon. Until Bucky, the man that you barely get along with, speaks up and lets everyone know that it could only be you. (@ellemj)

Closer (✘): you’d never felt like this before, it was like some primal instinct deep down inside of you. You just needed to be close to him. The only problem was that you were already wrapped in his arms and it still didn’t feel close enough. (@tom-holland-parker)

Water Proof (✘): Bucky Barnes is pretty sure that his arm is water proof. He'd been in water with it before. Turns out his arm can handle water, but not p*ssy juice. (@vivwritesfics)

Book Boyfriend (✘): Bucky is better than any book boyfriend. You'll prove it to him. (@navybrat817)

In Your Arms I'm Born Again (❤✘): you want to find out exactly how many times is too many times for the super soldier. (@bonky-n-steeb)

What Are Friends For (✘): when you threaten to swear off men for good after your last bad date, your neighbour and friend offers to help change your mind. (@gogolucky13)

Down Bad (✘): Bucky using his metal hand as a vibrator. (@flowersforbucky)

I Hate You (✘): after ending up on SHIELD's radar, you're moved into the tower against your will. Of course, you can't stand the one man that you have the most in common with. (@ellemj)

Play Pretend (✘): when Bucky is injected with a substance that leaves him desperate for release, you offer your help. (@wkemeup) (warning: sex pollen trope, i.e., dub-con)

A Quiet Escape (✘): during a holiday stay at Clint Barton’s home, you’ve been desperately trying to steal a moment alone with Bucky—your super-soldier boyfriend—but the Avengers are constantly interrupting. Between Clint’s kids, Steve’s “bromantic” grocery runs, and Nat pulling Bucky into sparring sessions, it feels like you’re constantly fighting for his attention. Frustration finally boils over when you confront Bucky about your lack of privacy, only to discover he’s just as eager for some alone time as you are - and willing to do anything to get it. (@thebarneschronicles)

Revenge Sweeter Than Honey (✘): when Bucky’s professor unfairly grades his college assignment, ruining his perfect GPA, he finds a way to get revenge — And doesn’t his sweet little wife look delicious? (@thevillainswhore)

Caught Myself A Cute Little Doll (✘): the Winter Soldier caught himself a cute little doll. (@sergeantbarnessdoll)

Pretty Little Thing (✘): your long-time crush, Bucky Barnes, is a regular at the bar where you work, and tonight, it’s impossible to avoid serving him for the first time. (@marvelouslizzie)

Now or Never (✘): based off the prompts "You know my door is always open for you, right?" and "You're already wet sweetheart." (@fandoms-writings)

Touch Starved (✘): this was inspired by a tweet and his gif I saw on twitter. You accidentally walk in on Bucky touching himself when he thinks he is alone. Turns out he is thinking about you. (@mrsbuckybarnes1917)

I Don't Want You Like A Best Friend (❅✘): Bucky can't decide if the universe loves him or hates him. Maybe it loves to hate him. Maybe it's mischievous. Because he’s in love. He’s madly, deeply, painfully in love with a girl that he knows he’ll never have. Because the heavens created arguably the most perfect creature in their repertoire, dangled you in front of him for his entire life, and chose to rip you away before he had the chance to tell you how he felt. (@brunchable)

↪︎ Part Two (❤✘): it's only been a few hours since you've become official and Bucky want to show you just how much you mean to him.

All's Well That Ends Well To End Up With You (❤✘): Bucky isn't going to let an extended mission, a severe thunderstorm, and a delayed flight ruin your first valentine's day together. (@flowersforbucky)

Stay For A Fortnight (✘): “yes, ground rules,” you sighed, forcing your eyes to rest on anything but him, “it’s just you and me here for two whole weeks, so we’ll need to come up with a plan.” (@thyme-in-a-bubble)

Devil's In The Backseat (✘): a night at coney island with your friends turns out much differently than expected, or getting fucked in front of a mirror. (@flowersforbucky)

Sesame & The Sweetheart (❤✘): you've been on a few dates with Bucky now, and the sexual tension is at an all-time high. After another cute date, you realize you can't keep your hands off him for very much longer. (@kinanabinks)

Heartwood (❤✘): after Sam’s party, Bucky begins to navigate uncharted territory as he works to balance his growing feelings and lingering insecurities in his blooming relationship. - lumberjack!bucky (@vunblr)

new! New Tricks (❤✘): after your brother has to cancel movie night, you’re ready to resign yourself to an uneventful evening back at your dorm, alone and dejected. But what you didn’t count on, is your brother’s best friend and roommate, bursting through the door and asking you to stay; to spend the night with him. Instead, what unfolds, however, while you spend time with the star football player, both shocks and astounds you — one confession in particular. Bucky Barnes, the Prince Charming of campus, the man you have been crushing on for an eternity, is a virgin. (@thevillainswhore)

new! Computer Chair Smut (❅✘): after weeks of arguing, you thought your relationship with Bucky was near the end. That was until you held something positive in your hand. (@crowsofdarkness)

new! Restraint (✘): you rush to Bucky's side when he's hit with a a super serum booster out in the field so that you can...take care...of him. (@mrs-elsie-barnes) (warning: sex-pollen trope (ish), i.e., dub-con)

new! Desperate Measures (✘): when you encounter a mysterious substance during a mission, it forces you and your mission partner to get closer. (@simplyholl) (warning: sex-pollen trope, i.e., dub-con)

new! Beach Day (✘): beach day with some of the Avengers turns into a little private time with Bucky. (@crowsofdarkness)

[bookishdreamer28]

Height difference

Idk Mattheos actual height but let's imagine he's really tall here ✨ I hope you'll like it 👐

Mattheo is obsessed with the way his body is towering over yours. He has found himself thinking of how you'd perfectly fit in his arms many times and he can't help but feel his whole body getting hot at the very thought. From the very first moment Theodore introduced you to their group, he was instantly besotted. He was entirely mesmerized by you.

Every time you wanted to grab something that was out of your reach, he was standing closely behind you just to help you, but in reality all he wanted was to feel your small frame against his. And when you look up at him all puppy-eyed, with those eyes, he knew he was down bad already. And he knew he had fallen deeply for you.

He loved teasing you cause your reactions to his teasing were absolutely worthwhile. Seeing your flustered face was something he adored.

-

"How you're doing shorty?" He said in his baritone voice and it took everything in you not to punch the smugness off of his face.

"Stop calling me shorty" you tried look mad and scary with your angry expression but Mattheo wanted to just grab your face and kiss the shit out of you.

"Ok then how about...pixie-"

"NO!" You exclaimed and walked away from him, not being able to stay any longer around his presence but one thing you didn't notice, was Mattheo laughing quietly behind you because he found your walk absolutely adorable.

-

When he gets to hug you, that's when he feels like his heart will burst out. It's the way you snuggle your head in his chest, the way your arms are wrapped around his waist, and the warmth that instantly engulfing him when he feels your heart beating against him. Everything about this feeling is perfect. You just fitted perfectly.

-

His most fave thing about your height difference, is when you tip toe every time you want to kiss him. He's just standing there, the corner of his lips curving upwards displaying a cheeky smile on his face as he watches you struggling while you're trying to give him a kiss.

"You know you can lean down a bit right? I can't do all the work here" you frowned as you looked up at him. He pinched you cheek softly and traced his thumb in soft circles there.

"Yeah but you have no idea how adorable you l- ouch!" You slapped his hand.

"Now, don't make me bend your head down here by force"

"I would gladly let you love" he chuckled and you smirked as you placed your forehead on your palm, sighing.

"Enough with the teasing Riddle, now kiss me" you looked up again, waiting for his lips to finally crush on yours. He felt his heart pounding like crazy against his chest.

He laughed and instead of leaning his head down, he crouched down and scooped you up into his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist and he placed one hand under your thigh and the other around your waist. Kissing you was earth-shattering. The fieeling of your soft lips locking with his, was something he has been craving for so long.

Once you pulled away, you expected him to put you down but he still held you tight against him.

"Will you put me down now?" You tried to fight back a smile as you felt his hold becoming a bit tighter, his locked on you the whole time.

"Nope, I love having you like this love" he murmured against your lips and you giggled as you once again captured your lips together in a kiss which caused your eyes to flutter close and enjoy the feeling.

Thank you for reading!!

[powderpinkprincess]

Curls [Lando Norris x reader]

description: Lando doesn’t like his hair as much as you do. warnings: language

Lando wasn’t the type of person to complain a lot. Or at least not when cameras or microphones were involved. Social media often didn’t understand that despite being fortunate enough to race in Formula 1, he still had his own problems, just like everyone else did.

For starters, he wasn’t the most chill guy when he was under significant pressure, and race weekends definitely weren’t relaxing for him. He could barely eat, he often forgot to drink until he got a headache, and everything annoyed him.

When you found him, he was fixing his hair in the reflection of something on the wall that wasn’t even a mirror.

 “Looking good, baby,” you commented with a smile as you approached him, holding a bottle of water.

He just rolled his eyes. “Yeah. My hair is so fucking annoying again.”

 “Why are you saying that? I love your curls,” you pouted immediately.

 “I know that,” he glared at his reflection. “It’s a damn curse though, there is never a weather that won’t make it look like a disaster. It’s just fucking everywhere, man.”

You held out the water bottle before he could continue. He was probably dehydrated again.

 “Thanks,” he sighed. He took a small sip and placed the cap back on the bottle.

 “Are you serious? It’s melting hot out there, and you’ll be driving within an hour,” you scolded him. “Drink it up before you get dizzy again.”

You knew he didn’t like being babied, but sometimes there was no other way to get him to do whatever was good for him. He was too focused on being the best between the best.

He just sighed, and his glance wandered to his reflection again. “Damn it, seriously.”

 "It looks fine," you spoke again, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

He was still examining his hair with his eyes. “Yeah? I don’t think so. I look like a freaking sheep.”

 “I love sheep.”

He just gave you an exasperated look before turning back to the bottle in his hand, opening it again to take another, much longer, sip.

 “I look like a muppet,” he mumbled after a moment of silence, just when you thought he was finally over it.

 "Lando," you raised your voice a little. "Quit it. You look fine. Everyone thinks you look fine. And you'll wear a helmet in not even an hour."

 "I mean, but the helmet also ruins my hair, and then I won't be looking fine anymore," he responded, taking a few steps forward, so he was standing right in front of you.

 “Oh my god,” you sighed.

 “Can I have that?” he asked, and he was ready to take the McLaren cap off your head, but you quickly caught his hand.

 “What are you doing?” you argued immediately.

 “I just need that for, like, five minutes,” he tried to justify as trying to wriggle his hand out of your grip.

 "No way, it's mine," you shook your head. "Go get your own, you have so many."

 “But I need one now,” he protested, his glance falling from your cap to your eyes.

 “But why?”

 “I can't go around the paddock without a cap,” he responded as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Your eyes widened in disbelief. "You just did though. You didn't wear one all morning!"

 “Yeah, and now I do. I just need it.” He finally managed to twist out of your grip, and the next moment, he already had the cap in his hand, about to put it on.

You just watched him and gave up. You shook your head, but you couldn't help the small smirk on your lips. "You're unbelievable."

He put the cap on his head with a satisfied smile, adjusting it a little before he looked back at you. "And yet you're still here."

Of course, you were.

You took a step closer and kissed him the way you knew he liked it. As he wrapped his hands around your waist, you took the opportunity and quickly snatched the cap off.

Before he could protest, you ran your fingers through his hair and smiled. "I love your curls. Really."

 “Oh, come on,” he mumbled, but he didn’t put up too much of a fight. He secretly enjoyed your touch.

You placed the cap back on his head and gave another peck on his lips. "There you go."

 “Thank you. I look better in it anyway,” he teased, and you automatically rolled your eyes.

 “You know how to ruin a romantic moment, Norris,” you laughed as you stepped back a little. “Go, destroy the others out there. And don’t forget to drink. And if you throw my cap into the crowd, I will find you.”

His smile widened into a grin and he blew you a kiss before he walked away.

[steor-ra]

Bring back the dead (1) (2)

Y!batfam x neglected!Gn

(Read author's note in the end for more information/updates!)

Sometimes you've wondered if there's a another universe where you'd be happy.

Perhaps in another universe, you would have a loving, caring family, much like the other kids at the park who always have genuine smiles on their faces while you look on with enviousness and a heavy heart as a child. You've always wondered, though, what if things had turned out differently, what if your mother had truly wanted you as a child so you wouldn't end up with your biological father, or maybe bruce payed more attention to you instead of that stupid costume and crowl.

Your stomach would sometimes churn at the prospect of being loved; it didn't seem right. Perhaps you didn't enjoy the sound of being loved because you've become accustomed to feeling neglected. It no longer hurts when Bruce passes past you or you see any of your siblings hanging out.

Maybe you just don't know what it's like to feel loved.

you've seen how Bruce cares for others, including Gotham's villains, to whom he pledged to defend everyone strolling down the shallow street full of evil.

You've seen how he'd be there if Dick was seriously injured, how he'd be comforting Dick as you stand beside the bed Dick is lying on, completely discarding you, as if Bruce is presenting you with a reality you've always desired, shoving it in your face that the only time you'll ever receive attention from him is through your imagination. it hurts to see that Bruce could actually care if someone is hurt, no matter how big or small, whereas, despite being deeply scarred by an abusive drug addict mother, you knew that Bruce won't care if you are dying right now; there are other problems in Gotham he needs to deal with. Atleast that's what you thought, maybe there's a tiny bit of hope?

It's perplexing when you feel the green-eyed monster tighten your heart when you witness the Wayne 'family' joyful without you because your gut always tightens the same way when you imagine yourself standing alongside them.

It just didn't stick right to the fantasies of being doted on like Damian by his siblings, admired like Dick, constantly praised for your intelligence like Tim and Barbara, having your father's attention the same amount as Jason, being cared for like Stephanie or Cassandra, and being loved by your father, Bruce.

The family was odd, to be sure, but that didn't stop them from being so talented that you stood out like a sore thumb; sometimes you just wish that, aside from Alfred, at least one of them wasn't a vigilante who would rather fight criminals who killed a child than admit that they themselves had killed one.

But what if you had a much more different life than this one?

Maybe you'd be an only child; you've always felt like one, but maybe now that your siblings are gone, Bruce's attention would be focused to you, and maybe you two could finally go on father-child dates. You can't picture what Bruce would be like during it though; will he still be the cold 'father' to you? Or will he be compassionate, like he is with Damien? The questions wrecked your fantasies, so you abandoned them, just as your mother did to you.

Or perhaps you'd be the oldest; like Dick, you'd have younger siblings who would look up to you, see you as a figure, and possibly love your younger siblings in ways you never were. You'd adore your first baby sibling till the last, making certain not to disregard anyone, like Dick did to you.

Or maybe you'd be one of them, one of the bat-vigilantes, fighting alongside them, with many skills to blend in with them; maybe you wouldn't be neglected now that you're a vigilante; you'd be in Batman's care, and he'd give you attention through training; and maybe Damian wouldn't harass you for being "useless" just because you're not on their team. As a vigilante, you might get harmed all the time, but it wouldn't make a difference in this reality, would it?

It aches to know that the only way you'll ever be able to receive affection is through fantasy, even if the imagination felt cold and lonely, which probably because you didn't know what it feels like to receive warmth from your family.

It's complicated but that's okay. You won't ask for it now that you know you're dying without ever experiencing love from your supposed father, Bruce, or being saved by Batman, all in the name of protecting others who are worthy of his presence.

You are not afraid of dying, but the idea of being alone during it is frightening. You feel sorry for yourself, knowing that you will be alone until your dying breath.

Even until your last breath, you'd be mumbling their names like a broken mantra, praying for them to save you, the same way you had when you still believed in their promises.

It hurts so much. everything aches in both ways.

In comparison to the other kidnappers, the kidnapper is brutal and shows no mercy. This time, the adductor is the well-known Joker, and you're frightened This is the same villain who carelessly attempted to beat Batman nearly every day, who viciously murdered your brother Jason, and who rendered Barbara crippled. Joker is the guy who wrecked your family, so hearing his name should send shivers down your spine.

You screamed in agony as the joker tore your nails one by one; your head ached, and all you could hear was a loud pitch ringing. You're covered in bruises and blood, from head to toe.

It didn't help that all you could think about was the possibility of dying without anyone knowing, which terrified you. All those nights and days of ignoring you in order to save the city meanwhile when you're genuinely in need of help from your family whom are heroes, will also ignore it, and it breaks you.

Are you actually a burden to them? Are you truly that worthless that you can't be spared this torture? Not to be rescued by your own father? Is anyone considered part of a family? All you did was ask for a savior coming from your vigilante family. Was that a lot to ask for?

Suddenly, all of the pain felt numb, and a knife has been plugged into your chest, leaving an aching hole where your heart should be. The nasty, jagged bit of steel soaked in thick red that dripped from your chest became your best friend; it sticks closer to your heart more than anyone else has ever been.

The ringing drowned out Joker's maniacal laughter as he crackled at the way your eyes went blank and your body slumped.

"Aw man~ this bird is sooo boring" he sighs dramatically "no wonder brucie didn't care"

"Poor you~"

And with that, you fell unconscious

Dick has never felt so guilty since his parents' deaths and for making the Robin a legacy, causing some deaths and permanent damages, but those feelings fail in comparison to the guilt he is experiencing right now. The more he watches the videos you've made over your time at the mansion, the more he wants to scream and rip his hair out.

He thinks it's lovely at first because you enjoy capturing your life through vlogging; that was the first thing he learned about you, and if he brings you back, he'll make sure to learn every single action. But you're of legal age to do and go whatever you want, and he knows that, the guilt of not knowing your age is killing him, and the realization that he and others have practically disregarded you your entire existence stings. He's supposed to be a figure to everyone; he's become one to whatever child Batman comes, as well as others all across the world, so he feels bad that he wasn't a brother figure to you. God knows what trauma you've been through being neglected all your life.

But that is beneath the point. He's currently looking back to the day you were first brought to the manor. Alfred was the one who welcomed you and offered you a digital camera to entertain yourself. Dick knows this because he saw it at the beginning of the video.

The video quality is awful; he figured because this was filmed years ago, there isn't a date specifying when it was made; still, you're cute; the first time he sees your face, he's stunned. When did you get that cute?

When he first met you personally, you appeared lonely, shy, and sad. It's like he is witnessing a totally different person on the video. Was his first impression of you mistaken all along? He's ashamed to admit it, but the way he first saw you was one of the reasons he avoided you; he didn't expect to ignore you for the rest of your life though. He feels like a jerk.

"I'm finally going to meet my real dad; I can't believe it's Bruce Wayne as well! I wonder if I'll also meet his sons, or my brothers," you grinned at the camera as you showed around the house. "It's sooo big; I hope I could play hide and seek with them, I love that game"

Dick couldn't help but smile at your grin, which turned into a grimace when he realized they'd never engaged with you properly. He groaned and went to the most recent video. This time, you're older, with heavy circles under your eyes; you appeared exhausted, but you smiled at the camera anyhow.

Candles have laminated the room, and a little cupcake is placed in front of you. And Dick's heart dropped when he spotted the calendar behind you, only 5 months after you taped this, and it was your birthday. Dick remembers spending the weekend at the manor with his siblings and, apparently, everyone else except you. His eyes saddened as you began singing Happy Birthday to yourself. There are cracks between some lines, yet your voice is soulful, even if you appeared soulless at the time. Dick can't help but be impressed by the way your voice sounds in Harmony.

The video ended when tears has finally fallen from your eyes , and dick is a mess; he was sweating, his eyes were dilated, his hair was tangled from how much he was nervously pulling it, and he appeared to have witnessed something horrible. Oh God, his chest is clenching so hard that he can't breathe. He feels like a monster.

He grabbed his phone with shaking hands and searched for you on social media, but there was nothing. There is nothing for websites. There's some humor about you in papers, but whereabouts are you currently There is nothing. And Dick knows that he needs to ask for Bruce's help, your father. Dick is furious with Bruce right now; how could Bruce not be aware that you had moved out? If he did, why didn't Bruce remind him of your presence? Did your father also ignore you?

Do the family knows about your existence here in the manor?

Dick was about to have a panic attack if a notification hadn't appeared unexpectedly. Dick's heart breaks as he receives a text message from an unknown number with a photo of you unconscious and beaten.

(Next chapter)

(A/n: Thank you for all y'all support, I hope you enjoyed reading this🤗💞 and I'm really sorry for the wait, will repeat though 😓🥲 taglist is broken lol )

Taglist: @nosyrobin @dhanyasri @sheepintherain @hasty-desert @m3ntally-unstable @cupids-pretty-boy @bat1212 @illytian @lilyalone @lafemmii @sweetconnoisseurgardener @ch1cky-093 @shycreatorreview @tdickensstuff4 @vanilliona @theblonde777 @purplelady22 @imacollosssaltitan @brrrr-brain-machine-broke @pi1nkl0ver @fantasyhopperhea @caffeinatedvigilantewriter

[vicorices]

hey… so like yk that trend where bridesmaids would bring the groom spicy polroid photos of the bridd.. can you write something a little like that but its reader nd sevik’s wedding (smut pls if u didnt know alrdy)😻🎀

₊˚⊹♡ dive in.

a/n — ugghhhhh i totally see this, sorry for taking so long non x // request open + masterlist.

18+ mdni, public sex, use of strap-on (it’s refered as cock/dick too) strap sucking, use of pet names.

to be fair, sevika did want to marry, the thing was organizing a wedding.

you've been running non-stop the last months so she gets you're burnt out. your fianceé can be many things, but her patience it's a golden treat even when she don't have time to properly fuck you lately, she knows you'll be back to your own self after the celebration, and sevika’s not afraid of having to put up with your grumpy side any time of the day.

she can handle you, simple as a summer day. what she cannot handle instead, was that backstabbing shit you were pulling on her after being so well behaved, playing the part of an understanding wife until one of your friends give her the first photo and she has to look at it twice to be sure she's looking at it right, cause there's no way you're standing in a tiny polaroid picture wearing a purple set of underwear, comfortably laying around in bed — a bed you share with her every night.

it sends her into a spiral. the music is loud in a room full of celebrating guests and still, her mouth is suddenly dry and she feels like it has been a fucking year now without having sex, so dramatic as she's searching for you even when you're already looking at her, raising your champagne glass in a silent toast with a playful smirk.

and she thinks you'll have the decency to be kind to her after all, but your friends kept the photos coming, and each one seemed to be more obscene than the last one as she looked at them a couple of times afraid someone else could see it before tucking it away in the safety of her suit. at first a casual set of purple lingerie that scaled insanely quick to a very close frontal shot of your full lips slightly parted, and sevika can recognize your hands squeezing your tits together for the picture, you fucking tease — the third picture steals the air from her lungs at the sight of you already on your knees, looking up to the camera with nothing on top.

did your friends see them too? do they know how low they are helping you play? you're making her put up a show ‘cause you're laughing at her face, her erratic movements, how she forgot to keep on talking to the guests, show some manners from a zaunite already in the council, but shit she's so weak. you've deprived her for what? a month or two? can you really expect her to behave and not to act up stupid? you're wearing this beautiful white gown and sevika cannot help but wonder, truly wonder, by the look in your face, what are you wearing down all that expensive fabric.

low.

you're looking at her while you talk to your close ones and sevika fights the need to drag you away from everyone as the photos kept appearing randomly, hitting her in the worst moments, cause she thinks she got it figured it out, that she finally collected herself as the minutes pass until another friend appears with a sinful picture and she thinks to herself, she's going to have a word or two with you about that teasing game she didn't agree to be a part on.

how can she be mad at you anyway? when you're so good at taking those photos for her? when you look so beautiful making your underwear to the side to have a look of your soaked pussy you so eagerly show to the camera lens? you're biting down your lip cause you really are enjoying it, showing that nasty side you cannot hide and she just loves to have every single time.

her devotion to you knows no barrier at that point, cause people are laughing loudly, singing and dancing under the changing lights and the bands playing in the background, yet sevika's blatantly stealing you from the rest and there's no point in saying no when she's pulling you to the tiny photobooth you thought it'd be cute to take up pictures for the guests and have a little token of your union to your wife to take home, closing down the red curtain to corner you against the camera wall.

"did you like the photos?" you have the audacity to ask with a smile on your lips — "it's a reward for being so good to me all this time."

"is this your idea of reward, doll?" sevika cannot hide the smirk on her face, not when she’s actually enjoying all the talking for once. "haunt me the whole night until i can finally get you alone?"

"it's fun" you try to defend yourself, but you already lost the whole case as her big hands fall against your figure, tracing your sides as she mocks your words: you have different views of fun clearly. "i was going to make it up to you later, vika. the two of us."

"make up to me you say," she chuckles, almost not believing you "well take care of me now then. i deserve it."

she does it really, so you let her push you around, use force to pin you down against the wall as she takes what she's been anxiously craving, cursing against the complex fabric of your wedding dress until she's able to grip it in one hand, noticing the same purple set she saw before in the pictures.

"fucking slut doin' this on purpose" sevika shakes her head in disbelief as she takes a look of your body in the colorful lingerie "and you were going to be cruel and make me fucking wait to have you? on our own wedding day?"

"vika-"

“you took the photos, fuckin´ deal with it.”

“what if someone comes in?”

“i’ll tell them to fuck off,” she promises quickly like she thought about it all already “it’s our day, our wedding.”

there’s something about the way she’s saying it that makes you oblivious to the rest, makes your head spin cause you forgot about your worrying, the guests, the cake and everything in between. so you're not aware of when you pushed the red button on the screen of the photobooth, nor when it activates it's original purpose when sevika's fully into making out with you, capturing the sight of your figures blending together in the same picture — by the second shot you can notice the smirk on her brown lips and in the third, it's not really visible as she seems to be too close to the camera lens, making the image blurry as she attacks on your neck.

maybe it's the thrill of being discovered, the fact sevika can feel the flash of the photos being taken, but she wishes to be patient again — have it in at least a couple of hours on her actual wedding night for a chance, privately, but the strap she choose willingly to wear in a way of fully teasing you, was now pushing against your leg and you have to stop for a second with your brows furrowed.

"is that-" sevika's nodding and you want to say something, but you find amusing to know your wife is wearing a strap-on to your wedding celebration, one you surely have seen already.

"make up to me," she repeats once again, serious this time "for being cruel."

no one interrupts anyway. the music's too loud, the sweat in the air is too strong and guests already drank a lot so no one gives a shit when you're getting on your knees, when sevika's toying with your hair as you're the one to unbuckle the belt from her pants, the one who kisses the happy trail of her lower belly without protesting, noticing the blue silicone as her pant pools in her ankles and your wife cannot seem to care about anything but the sight of you on your knees.

"get it wet" sevika's less gentle now as she's pointing to her fake cock, licking her lips like she can taste yours in them before adding: "so i can fuck you good, okay?"

to be fair — it's just an excuse, cause she knows you're dripping in your pretty purple panties, that the dildo would split you open yes, stretch you out even without making much effort, but she just wants to see how you do it, how you become a drooling mess, salivating all over the floor, getting your dress wet totally unaware of everything else.

and hell she wishes she could feel it all, cause you look so pretty with your mouth full it's insane, pushing against the rubber to take it in your throat further until you make yourself gag, and your wife takes care of you, so she's pulling away but in all honestly the sight of you debauched already only spurs her on 'cause the amount of saliva coating your lips connecting you to her dick makes her insane, cleaning the corners of your mouth with her thumb.

"easy there, get used to it and take it slow," her voice is rough as she helps you put your hair up in a ponytail vika holds in her mechanic fingers, watching your polished moves as you get to work again, relaxing until the tip of your nose is touching her skin, and your eyes are watering but she can feel your breathing on her, the friction between her legs every time you move to take her deeper, the fabric of the harness consistently rubbing between her legs — "there you go bunny. s'good taking it all, go on keep sucking and don't get distracted."

you want to do good, desperate to please her over and over again, you can take it. that's what she says as her hips involuntarily thrust against your mouth, and it's so slippery the rubber cock slides inside your bucal cavity and she's roughly hitting on the back of your throat until there's this sound you make involuntarily each time the strap invades your mouth and makes you choke, leaving you a mess as you're drooling all over your tits.

her flesh hand does a good job on making you move, fingers tightening in your hair as she sets an steady pace against your mouth, swollen lips that close around the shaft as she pushes it deeper, cleaning up your tears cause she don't want your make up to be ruined, all pretty trying hard for her.

she's going to cum like this, inevitable. you're looking up to her with your big eyes, a damn smirk cause even when you're struggling you're having so much fun you cannot help it, and once again she's needy for more than what she'd like to admit.

the movement of her hips rubs her right in the spot when sevika's already so sensitive soaking her inner thighs, forcing her cock in your mouth — it's so good, you're so damn good.

so she cums around nothing, your sloppy movements as you suck on her strap, that zoned out look you have that only makes her moan hastily, leaning against the photobooth to press that fucking button again that's been randomly taking pictures now capturing the features of your wife as you now disappear from the frame, the pleasure on sevika's face she's unaware before pulling you upwards again, making you stand as she parts your legs with her knee forcing you to turn around to have a good view of your ass.

"my good little cocksleeve, always ready to be stuffed," she praises, leaving wet kisses on the expanse of your shoulders, going down your spine as she don't bother to take your panties off, no, she wants to fully fuck you in them "spread yourself open, help me sink in you."

your hands come up to grip on your asscheeks, pulling them aside to help your wife reach deeper, use you better by all means. the tip of the cold silicone wet with your own saliva kisses your entrance, and you melt away when sevika's finally fucking you until the base of her cock disappears inside your warm cunt, holding you still even in a secluded space.

she's shoving her fingers in your mouth, making you suck on her digits with a hungry look: lame, she's gonna cum again and she's acting up so fucking lame.

"fucking take it," the damn camera flashes again and sevika has lost count of how many pictures are waiting outside the booth of you two, but she's too busy to say something when she's sinking inside your drenched pussy, pulling on your hair as she grips on the curve of your hip, making you move with her as her movements get rougher, each time more demanding, deeper — "that's it. make space for me, it's not that hard, isn't it?"

she's on a sinking ship either way: slow is now overrated and she would rather dive in headfirst to openly drown in you.

was that so bad? i mean, you're married to her now.

[littelovelunette]

Sevika G!P Headcanons

Contains- Sevika G!P, nsfw content ahead, BDSM, CNC

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Big spoon all in nude; Sevika likes her cock pressing against your butt as you both sleep, especially because if you're the one who wakes earlier, you can feel her morning wood hard against your cheeks. If she wakes up first... Get ready for a morning pounding.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Precums A LOT; you get her hard and you see her oozing her precum and it's always so hot to you. It's like her drooling, but with her cock. If you ever tease her with it, she will deny it though.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Sensitive tip and underside; Sevika will squirm when you suck her off and tease her tip a little too much. Her hips will raise off the bed, she'll try to hold back her moans though as she tangles her fingers in your hair and tries to make you suck all of her instead of just teasing her. Babygirl gets miserable :((

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Gets a boner at the worst possible time; You're both baking together? Gets hard. Maybe she just wants your buns? You both outside on a date? Gets hard. Playing poker with you on her lap? She'll get hard.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Didn't stop complaining after Vi kicked her in the nuts during their brawl; Sevika is still mad about the fact that Vi had kicked her in the balls during their fight. She won't let it pass, and you sometimes tease her saying Vi was thinking about Sevika's cock.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Won't have you sleep with it inside; Sevika is stern about it and you know no matter how many times you'll ask her to elaborate, she won't give you a proper reason whatsoever. Her point stands and she ABSOLUTELY won't allow you to sleep with her cock inside.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Prefers feeling you raw but is always stern with protection even when drunk; No matter how drunk or high she'll get, she won't forget to use protection. As of now, she can't imagine little hers or little yous running around, yet.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Barely needs lube because you're so wet for her, will tease you about it; do I need to explain?

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ When she spanks you, she'll get hard and you can feel it under her; she spanks you often. When you tease her during her poker games or don't wear panties under your skirt deliberately, she will bend you over and spank you. She prefers to do it with her hand too and most of the times when she's done that, you could feel how hard she was getting. She has a thing for impact play.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Will put it in whenever you're naked and bent even at the most ungodly times just for the hell of it; whenever you both finish having sex and you go and bend to pick your clothes up, you can expect a 2nd round of pounding. She claims you willingly tease her by doing it. But we all know our Sevika is just horny ;)

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ Doesn't like jerking it if you're not there with her; Sevika says she doesn't like jerking it or fapping if you're not around or with her indulging. Because it feels wrong to be doing that although she would do that if she got way too horny without you around to help but she prefers not to jerk it. Likes having you do that though.

[landoughnut]

The Williams Rule

♡ masterlist - request - emoji anons

♡ pairing - carlos sainz x fem!reader

♡ summary - carlos finally wins over the teams chief strategist after way too many attempts asking you out

♡ warnings - simp/desperate/persistant carlos, flluffff

♡ w/c & a/n - 1.6k | posting this here because im so sad for Carlos 💔

"No."

"But—"

"Still no."

"You didn't even let me finish!"

You look up from your laptop to find Carlos Sainz giving you his best puppy-dog eyes, leaning against your desk in the Williams garage. It's a look that probably works wonders on most people, but you've built up an immunity. Mostly.

"Let me guess," you say, trying not to smile. "You were about to invite me to dinner. Again."

He grins, unashamed. "Actually, I was going to suggest breakfast this time. You know, mix it up a little."

"Carlos."

"What? Breakfast is very professional. People have business breakfasts all the time."

You give him your best unimpressed look, the one you've perfected after two years as William's chief strategy analyst. "And would this be a business breakfast?"

"It could be," he says hopefully. "We could discuss... race strategy?"

"We do that every day. Right here. In the garage. Where we work."

He drops into the chair beside your desk, and you pretend not to notice how good he looks in his race suit, sleeves tied around his waist. It's unfair, really, how someone can be both adorable and devastatingly handsome at the same time.

"You know," he says conversationally, "most people would be flattered that their driver keeps asking them out."

"Most people don't have to maintain professional relationships with their drivers."

"Ah, but I'm not just any driver. I'm your favorite driver."

You snort. "Charles is my favorite driver."

"You wound me, mi corazón." He clutches his chest dramatically. "After all we've been through?"

"All we've been through is you interrupting my work to ask me out seventeen times—"

"Twenty-three times," he corrects.

"You're keeping count?"

His smile turns softer, more genuine. "Of course I am. I'm hoping you'll say yes before we reach fifty."

Something warm flutters in your chest, but you squash it down. "Carlos..."

"I know, I know. The Williams rule." He sighs. "'No dating within the team.' But rules are made to be broken, no?"

"Says the man who got a penalty last race for track limits."

"That was different! The wind—"

"Sainz!" James' voice cuts through the garage. "Stop distracting my best strategist and get to your engineering briefing!"

Carlos stands with exaggerated reluctance. "This isn't over," he warns you playfully.

"It never is with you," you call after him, fighting a smile as he walks backward, still watching you until he nearly trips over a tire.

Emma, your assistant, slides into the seat Carlos vacated. "You know," she says thoughtfully, "the Williams rule isn't actually written anywhere."

"Don't you start."

"I'm just saying, have you seen the way he looks at you when you're explaining race scenarios? Like you're explaining the secrets of the universe instead of tire degradation data."

You feel your cheeks heat up. "He's just... intense about racing."

"Right. That's definitely it. Nothing to do with how he brings you coffee every morning—"

"He brings the whole strategy team coffee!"

"—or how he only sits next to you in briefings—"

"That's because I give the best feedback!"

"—or how he literally lights up every time you walk into a room."

You bury your face in your hands. "I hate you."

"No you don't," she says cheerfully. "You hate that I'm right."

The problem is, she kind of is. You've been fighting this attraction to Carlos since your first day at Williams, when he'd introduced himself by accidentally spilling espresso all over your carefully prepared notes and spent the next hour helping you recreate them, making you laugh despite your initial irritation.

Twenty-three asks later (apparently), and it's getting harder to say no.

Later that afternoon, you're focused on simulation data when a sandwich appears on your desk.

"You missed lunch," Carlos says simply.

You blink at the sandwich, then at him. "I had lunch."

"Coffee is not lunch."

"I'm fine, I'll eat later—"

"You get grumpy when you don't eat properly," he says, pulling up his chair again. "Remember Monaco? When you threw a pen at Alex?"

"He deserved it! He wouldn't stop talking about how cereal is a soup."

Carlos unwraps the sandwich and holds it out expectantly. You take it with a sigh, knowing he won't leave until you eat.

"This doesn't count as a date," you warn him.

His eyes crinkle with amusement. "Sharing a sandwich in the garage while you pretend not to like me? No, this is just Tuesday."

You take a bite to avoid responding, then make an embarrassing sound of appreciation. It's your favorite – prosciutto and mozzarella from that little deli down the street.

"You remembered," you say softly.

"I remember everything about you." He says it so simply, like it's the most natural thing in the world. "Like how you take your coffee, and which pen is your lucky pen, and how you scrunch your nose when you're concentrating really hard..."

"Carlos..."

"And how you always say my name like that when you're trying not to smile."

You throw your napkin at him. "Don't you have somewhere to be?"

"Probably." He makes no move to leave. "But I like it here better."

The garage bustles around you, mechanics and engineers going about their work, but somehow Carlos has this way of making it feel like you're in your own little bubble.

"Twenty-four," he says suddenly.

"What?"

"Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?"

You should say no. You always say no. But...

"Carlos, I—"

"Before you say no," he interrupts quickly, "just... think about it? Really think about it. Because yes, maybe dating within the team is complicated. But isn't everything in F1 complicated? We manage million-dollar cars going three hundred kilometers per hour. We coordinate hundreds of people across different countries. We deal with rain and red flags and rival teams."

He leans forward, and his eyes are so earnest it almost hurts. "But we do it all because some things are worth the complexity. And this?" He gestures between you two. "This feels worth it to me."

Your heart is doing that fluttery thing again. "That was a good speech."

"I practiced it in the mirror."

You laugh despite yourself. "Of course you did."

"Is it working?"

You look at him – really look at him. At the hope in his eyes, the nervous way he's playing with his watch strap, the soft curl falling over his forehead that you've always wanted to brush back.

"If," you say slowly, "and this is a big if... if I said yes, what exactly would you have planned?"

His whole face lights up. "Well, I know this amazing little restaurant in Maranello. Very private, incredible pasta. We could talk about anything except work. I could tell you about growing up in Madrid, you could tell me about your family. Maybe afterwards we could walk through the old town, get gelato..."

"You've really thought about this, haven't you?"

"Only about a hundred times." He grins. "So..."

You take a deep breath. "If – and I mean if – I said yes... you have to promise me something."

"Anything."

"If it doesn't work out, we stay professional. The team comes first."

"Always," he agrees immediately. "Although it will work out."

"Oh? You're that confident?"

His smile turns softer. "I've never been more sure of anything."

And maybe it's the way he's looking at you, or maybe it's Emma's words from earlier echoing in your head, or maybe you're just tired of pretending you don't feel this too.

"Okay," you say quietly.

He blinks. "Okay?"

"Yes. To dinner. Tomorrow night."

For a moment he just stares at you, like he can't quite believe it. Then the biggest smile breaks across his face, the one that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners.

"Really? You're not joking?"

"Don't make me change my mind, Sainz."

He jumps up, practically bouncing with excitement. "You won't regret this, I promise. I'm going to plan the perfect evening. It will be amazing. You're going to fall so in love with me—"

"Carlos!"

"Right, sorry, getting ahead of myself." But he's still beaming. "Tomorrow night then? Eight o'clock?"

You nod, fighting your own smile. "Eight o'clock."

He backs away, still grinning, and this time he actually does trip over a tire. You hear him apologizing to the mechanics in rapid Spanish, but he doesn't stop smiling.

Emma appears as if by magic. "Finally!" she exclaims. "I thought I was going to have to lock you two in the simulator room."

"It's just dinner," you mutter, but you can feel yourself blushing.

"Sure it is." She hands you a file with a knowing look. "Just like it was 'just coffee' when he started bringing it to you every morning, and 'just being nice' when he waited two hours at the track in Malaysia because your flight was delayed."

"Whose side are you on?"

"The side of love, obviously." She dodges your swat. "And maybe the side of the garage betting pool."

"The what?"

But she's already walking away, humming what sounds suspiciously like the Italian national anthem.

You turn back to your work, trying to focus on lap times and tire strategies, but your mind keeps drifting to tomorrow night. To dinner and walks and gelato and the way Carlos looks at you like you're his favorite victory.

Your phone buzzes with a text:

Carlos: Twenty-four was my lucky number anyway 😉

You bite your lip to hold back a smile.

You: Don't push your luck, Sainz

Carlos: Too late. Already the luckiest man in Maranello 💙

And despite all your rules and reservations, you can't help but think that maybe, just maybe, you're pretty lucky too.

After all, some things are worth breaking the rules for.

[cookiekissers]

This one's a little personal and idk if you'll do it but maybe Shadow Milk and Pure Vanilla standing up for a reader who's being screamed at by their coworker?? Happened to me recently and it felt awful :,) (both separate hcs)

[Pure Vanilla Cookie & Shadow Milk Cookie x Reader]

[head canons] [fluff]

Sorry this is a bit late anon, sorry to hear that happened to you and I hope you're doing better 🫶

[Pure Vanilla Cookie]

Pure Vanilla Cookie would hear the commotion and come running to your aid right away.

He would physically put himself between you and your coworker and keep them away from you until they tire themselves out enough so that he can figure out what happened.

He would quickly pacify your angry coworker, as that's something he's very good at due to his calming voice and gentle demeanor.

If you made a mistake, he can understand the frustration, but surely that's no reason to yell at you like that!

Pure Vanilla Cookie will give you an opportunity to go on a short break to calm yourself down and he will step in to help fix whatever problem that has your coworker so upset.

Pure Vanilla will vouch for you no matter what, and will resolve the situation peacefully.

After things have calmed down, he will check up on you with a snack in the break room to see if you're ok.

Pure Vanilla will comfort you as much as you need. Even if you made a mistake and it is your fault, he will stay with you and promises to help you fix it.

Later he would probably mention your coworker's outburst at you to a manager. Doing something like that is very unprofessional and unacceptable, especially if you didn't deserve it! There are many different ways to handle workplace conflict than screaming at someone.

[Shadow Milk Cookie]

Shadow Milk is not as nice as Pure Vanilla is when it comes to confronting your angry coworker.

He will very quickly butt into the "conversation" and quite directly tell your coworker to "shut up." Shadow Milk doesn't care if they start screaming at him next. He can take it.

Shadow Milk will point out that your coworker is embarrassing themselves by causing a scene in front of everyone, and point out all the people staring.

He will secretly cause a scene elsewhere and tell them to handle it, and while your coworker is distracted, he comforts you and brings you to a quiet area for you to calm down. Shadow Milk will also make an effort to crack a few jokes to make you smile.

This coworker is now on Shadow Milk's shit list for yelling at you. Of course, everything he does to them will be completely petty and won't be able to be traced back to him or you.

Shadow Milk will "accidentally" trip them, spill food on them, stealing their lunch, and start reporting them constantly for minor infractions to management.

Will talk shit behind their back and act sweet to their face. He will make you feel better about the situation, if your mind ever lingers on the painful memory of being yelled at, Shadow Milk will distract you with a catty comment about your coworker.

Shadow Milk is petty, but he'll always be on your side. If your coworker ever tries to pick a fight with you again, Shadow Milk Cookie will back you up.

[villain-enthusiast]

TOUCH-STARVED HERO RAHH.

.

“You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine, actually,” the hero muttered from their sloppy position on the ground, though the oozing gash slicing across their torso and the fresh bruises circling their throat said otherwise.

The villain arched a brow, crouching down so they were eye level with the hero. “Do you think I’m dumb?”

The hero glowered at them. “Seems like you're deaf, actually. I said I’m fine,” they snapped, even as pain shuddered through their battered body. “Now if you could just get out of my way—,”

“Darling, please. You couldn’t stand up even if you tried, let alone walk yourself halfway across the city to your apartment.” The villain smirked at the hero’s deepening scowl, but the teasing flair didn't quite reach their eyes. “Let me do you a small favor while I’m here, at least.”

The hero bared their teeth. “Fuck off. I don’t need your stupid healing powers. You'll probably turn this into one of your idiotic bargains—," A harsh coughing fit cut them off, rattling their chest.

They tasted blood on their tongue. Fuck.

“Gosh, so prideful." The villain sighed, tilting their head. "Oh look at that, you're bleeding." They lifted a hand and ran a thumb over their hero's lips, wiping away a smattering of blood that had spilled from their mouth.

The hero's breath hitched at the villain's touch, the smallest, most delicate of noises escaping them before they could stop themselves.

The villain paused, their brow furrowing as their gaze took in every little movement and detail of the hero's involuntary response.

The hero's jaw tightened. Every muscle in their body screamed at them to get away, but they couldn't move. Or was it that they didn't want to move? "Villain, I swear—,"

Then the villain’s hand was cupping their cheek, and the hero melted.

A desperate whimper tore from their throat, their head lolling into the cool touch of the villain's palm as all the pain and exhaustion radiating through their body suddenly evaporated.

They closed their eyes, feeling their face begin to burn with shame.

"Oh, sweetheart," the villain murmured. Their other hand swept through the matted strands of the hero's hair, working through the tangles.

The hero had to bite down on their lip so that they didn't make another embarrassing noise. So gentle. The villain's touch was so, so gentle. So at odds to their earlier opponent's strangling grip and blinding punches, so contrasting to gaping loneliness and helplessness of coming home to no one, of having to painfully stitch themselves up day after day after day...

The villain brushed away a tear that the hero didn't realize had fallen.

"Hey, look at me," the villain said softly, nudging their chin up. The hero blinked at them, fighting back a sob. "You need to let me heal you, okay? You're losing a lot of blood."

The hero swallowed, barely processing the villain's words, their brain entirely occupied by the hand still on their face—or maybe it was just the blood loss. "Yeah," they managed, voice hoarse. It felt like their vocal chords were coated in tar.

"I'm going to do your stomach first," the villain noted. "I need both my hands for this, alright?"

The hero nodded, ignoring the inevitable panic that shot through them at the sudden absence of the villain's touch, which returned almost immediately on the deep laceration on their lower torso.

The hero cringed, bracing for some kind of torturous, painful mending, but the villain's powers were warm, soft, like honey in a cup of hot tea or a crackling fireplace during a winter storm. God, how many years had it been since they'd felt so comforted?

A whimper escaped the hero once more. They tensed. Jesus fucking christ.

The villain cracked a smile as they worked. "Don't worry, love. You're not the first person I've healed that enjoys the feeling." They brushed a palm over the wound, weaving the hero's flesh and skin back together. "This is gonna scar, but at least you'll live to see another day, hm?"

The hero scoffed weakly, still drunk on the villain's magic.

The villain swept their hands over the hero's body, feeling for more damage. "Gosh, Hero," they hummed, "you get yourself into so much trouble, do so much for this pitiful city, and for what?" They placed their hands on the hero's battered neck, soothing the inflammation. "When's the last time someone took care of you?" they asked quietly, but the question seemed more for themselves than for the hero.

Several heartbeats passed before the villain pulled away, finished with their work. The hero couldn't stop themselves from chasing their touch, nearly toppling over.

The villain caught them before they hit the ground, chuckling. "Oh, what am I gonna do with you?"

The hero felt a lump form in their throat at the thought of the villain leaving. I'm not gonna make it home. Not without Villain. They squeezed their eyes shut, swallowing their pride. "Please," they whispered. "Take me home. All I ask."

"Don't need to ask me twice." The villain swept the hero up into their arms, smirking at their indignant (and exhausted) glare. "You're not walking, sorry. You're getting all my love and special treatment today." They winked, as if they were joking.

But as the villain paced their way to the hero's apartment, and as the hero began to fall asleep in their arms, they both knew it wasn't a joke.

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part twenty-three —other parts

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 4k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn’t here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival. a/n: ily

In a split second, the ground seems to open up and you sink down, down, down into a memory brimming with death. Stark white snow surrounds you, soaked with blood beneath your feet. You hear the screams of your sister and Paul. A wall of grey descends over them. There are many, too many. All you can do is—

"Fucking run! Come on, before they smell us!"

Kyle tugs your arm and rips you back to the present. You trap the terror, throw the bow on your back, and sprint. Which way did you even come from? The meadow feels bigger than before. He seems to know so you follow him, fighting through head-high rue.

It doesn't seem like the Greys have taken notice to you yet given the absence of hungered screeches, but you can hear the uneven footsteps continuing behind you. You try to look back at them, but all you can make out through the plants are flashes of grey and green and amber sunlight. You don't slow down. You need to increase the gap so they can't get close enough to scent you.

"She's right over there," Kyle urges.

The tall grasses turn into pine needle covered ground. You make it back to Cherry, who must notice the shift in the air as she whinnies against the rope. Kyle slinks his rifle on his back, unties her with nimble fingers, and without warning, grabs you by the waist and tosses you onto the saddle. You grip her mane to steady yourself. He swings a leg over behind you, then thrashes the reins. She breaks into a gallop, weaving through the trees. 

You look back again once she's gained some distance. They have trampled through the meadow, consuming it, and you realize with a sinking pit that without a horse, you wouldn't have been quick enough to get away. From this height, you can now see just how far back the crowd extends, to the point that they swallow the horizon. 

If they continue this way, they'll reach the camp. 

A barbed fence and trench won't stop them.

You look back ahead of you, the forest passing as a blur in your peripherals. 

"We have to get back and tell them. There's too many," you speak into the whipping breeze. "There is no month."

He tightens an arm around your middle and mutters gravely in your ear. "No, there isn't."

It feels like hours before you make it back, though the sun has yet to fully set. Blood orange streaks the sky. They must be preparing dinner. No one is outside. Cherry slides to a halt in front of the trench and Kyle helps you down with a firm hold, as if he is worried you'll be unsteady, but you brush his hand off and race inside.

You enter with such urgency that all eyes snap to you. Ghost is crouched in front of the fireplace. Price and Nereida are curled on the couch, legs entangled, as he strokes her long, black hair. Blue and Ari are looking through a magazine splayed on the table.

"Greys," you announce, looking around. You land on dark eyes that widen as they take you in. "They're here. They're coming."

"We saw them by the hundreds about 20 kilometers south. Too many for us to handle. We have to move, Price," Kyle says.

Ghost rises. You close the distance and stare up at him with unwavering conviction, ignoring the nausea that has been churning in your gut since the moment you witnessed them. 

"Ghost, we're not fucking around. I saw them. A horde. Bigger than the one that destroyed my camp. We have to get out of here. We don't have the time to wait around until they—"

"I heard you." His eyes sweep over the length of you. "You're alright?"

"Yes," you dismiss quickly. "They didn't get to us. But if we didn't have Cherry..." 

You trail off.

Price stands. "20 kilometers, Simon. They can close that distance in a matter of hours. We move now."

You see a war dance in Ghost's eyes as he releases your shoulder and nods firmly at his old captain. The stiffness in his shoulders and the hard set of his jaw show his realization that the battle he’s been fighting to grapple for more time is unwinnable.

"Dad?" Blue's voice is small from the table. 

He looks at her. "Kid, go get your things. Everything I've told you to bring if we ever had to leave."

"Where—where are we going?"

Price answers. "We start with moving a safe distance away. South, past Loughborough, like I showed you, Simon. Get your map. Gather everything we talked about. Only the necessities that we can fit in the truck."

Then, everyone moves.

A pot abandoned over the crackling embers. 

The magazine left on the table.

You rummage for your things.

Ghost throws a military-grade backpack at you.

"Use this."

You fight trembling fingers to unzip it. You don't own much. Even after cramming all your vials and pill bottles, gauze, knives, and clothes in it, there's space. He fills the rest with food from the pantry. Canned beans, fish, soup, peanut butter. A few packages with bold letters: MRE. Military ready-to-eats. 

Minutes race, and you're back outside. Moonlight floods the sky. Time feels like an enemy. How far away are they now? You swing around back to the truck. Kyle and Price have already loaded guns, food, and the deflated raft around Ghost's kayak. Blue watches them finish packing. She has a backpack of her own and Grim in her hands. Her eyes are red.

Ghost comes out with two heavily stuffed bags of his own. 

"You can't take him."

Blue tightens her hold on Grim. "I'll hold him the whole way."

"You can't."

"I can. I'm not—I'm not leaving him. He'll die."

"Say goodbye to him and get in the truck."

The look he gives her is final.

She knows it.

She kneels down and releases the rabbit.

He lingers by her feet.

Tears flow. 

"You have to stay here, okay? I'm—I'm sorry."

Kyle and Ari give their farewell to Cherry. He removes the saddle. You are tempted to thank her for saving your life, but before you can, Kyle strikes her rear and sends her running toward the north. You hope she can get out of here. 

You, Blue, and Nereida sit in the backseats. Kyle and Ari sit out on the truck bed, while Ghost drives and Price holds the map. Faded headlights cut through the night as the engine coughs to life. The silhouette of the camp outside the window is the last glimpse you steal as Ghost drives through the trees.

There isn't much talking except for Price telling him where to go. When Price unfolds the map, a small paper falls out. Ghost quickly snatches it and stuffs it in his pocket. Blue trembles beside you, but she's silent. You switch between playing with the plastic bracelet on your wrist and reopening the scab on your finger to keep your mind busy. You can't think about the what-if's—not now.

The bumpy ride softens once Ghost makes it to the road. You squint your eyes to read the roadsigns as they pass, but they're faded and it's dark. All you can make out is the letter M: motorway. It must be the M1. You crossed it on the way to the village, but this time Ghost follows it south, opposite of Manchester. 

Not even half an hour into the drive, Ghost swears under his breath. He slows down to a near-stop, causing your forehead to almost slam into the headrest. Your heart stutters when you look out the windshield. A group of Greys, not as large as the one you witnessed, but still sizable, lingers in the middle of the road. The headlights draw their shadows against the concrete—dark, spidery fingers. 

"Go around them," Price directs. "Keep some distance."

Ghost veers the truck left onto the grassy side of the motorway. The ride turns rough again and you notice Blue pressing her knuckles into your thigh. You let her. You watch the group pass through the window—maybe twenty or thirty of them. They are moving in the direction of the woods. Drawn to the terribly strong scent of the mass already congregated in there. 

When the truck fully passes them, your mind drifts. You think of small things. The growing cabbages Blue planted. If they will survive, or be trampled. Ghost's books. The shed you used to sleep. The violets by the pond, in full bloom, soon to be crushed and matted to the ground.

Ghost won't be driving all through the night. 

Price claims it would be a waste of fuel, since they haven't decided upon the safest route to continue further south towards the channel yet. One step at a time. Instead, after passing signs for Loughborough and circling around the quaint, broken town-scape, Ghost drives down a gravel road that leads to a quiet, overgrown ranch. There is a broken barn and eroded fence posts, but mostly grass. At least, that is what you make out in the dark. It should be far enough from the horde to be a safe place for sleep. 

They have two tents with them. Kyle hops out of the truck bed and sets them up with Ari, Price shining a flashlight for their eyes. Sleeping bags are thrown in. 

Nereida touches her husband's cheek. 

"Are you going to sleep any?"

"Not tonight. We'll keep watch." He kisses her knuckles.

Nereida and Ari end up in one tent for the night, and you and Blue take the other. The three men will stay awake, watching over the supplies and keeping an eye out for signs of Greys. You have the stubborn itch to stay up with them—be a fourth set of eyes—but you will yourself to leave your bow at the foot of the tent and bend down to slip inside with Blue. You help her into the sleeping bag since she has never used one before. She curls up inside it.

You are barely inside your own when she whispers, "Twix?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't like this."

"I don't, either."

Moonlight breaches the nylon walls. You can make out the shape of her nose, the glisten in her eyes.

"Are we going to go back?"

"I don't—I don't think so."

Luckily, it's left at that. She doesn't know about her dad's plan for Switzerland yet. Or maybe she is starting to put the pieces together. She doesn't ask. 

You turn on your side to look at her better. You reach a hand out of the sleeping bag to stroke her hair. "I'm sorry. I'm...I'm so sorry about Grim. He'll be okay, alright? He's a smart guy. Learned from you all these years."

"I hope so," she says, quiet. "I don't even have any pictures to remember him by."

"You have your memories of him. All of the small things. Hold tight to those and you'll never forget him, okay?"

"Okay." She shivers. It's cold now without the sun. For a few silent minutes, she simply cries. You stroke her hair, from scalp to ends, and count in your head. It does some to ground you. To ignore the fresh images seared into your eyelids. By the time you reach 248, she wipes her eyes roughly and says your name again. Her teeth are gritted, to keep her warm, or to stop from crying too loud. 

"Yeah?"

"Are you having sex with my dad?"

The question makes your fingers pause in their ministrations.

Something clenches at the pit of your stomach.

"I, um—no. No, of course not."

A shaky breath. 

"You would tell me, right? If you were."

"Yes, of course," you whisper. "Get some sleep, alright?" You give a final stroke to her hair and turn away, flat on your back. 

Sleep is difficult, but the three shadows outside the tent offer a thread of comfort, so you will your eyes to shutter. You dream of an endless meadow. The tall plants turn to hungry mouths. By the time dawn arrives, you awaken, and feel disoriented. You sit upright, looking around and wondering how you got here. You aren't in Ghost's room, in his bed, with his warm body close by. Your toes are numb. You see Blue's face slackened with fatigue, half covered by the sleeping bag, her body snuggled close to yours, and everything comes back to you in flashes. The Greys in the meadow. The quick evacuation. Pulling over for the night. It sinks in. Your stomach howls, but you ignore it, 

There are murmured voices outside.

You carefully unzip the entrance and slip outside so as not to wake Blue. The sky is a muted purple. Price, Kyle, and Ghost are by the truck bed. Price has the map in his hands, and Ghost is showing him two bright red jerry cans. 

"That's it?"

"That's it, plus what's already in the tank."

"And it's full?"

"Bit less than full now."

With everyone else still asleep, you hesitate to make your presence known. You feel like you'd be intruding. But the thought recoils quickly. The more stubborn part of your brain bares its teeth. You have a right to be apart of the conversation. You want to know what is happening. What they plan. 

As you make your way over, chilled arms crossed tight beneath your breasts, it is Kyle who notices you first. His eyes soften. Then Price—his brown eyes lift from the map as he regards you.

"Twix." He greets and you think it is the first he has said your name. Ghost is the one you fail to look at but you feel his stare. "Sleep alright?"

"Just fine." Your eyes flick to the map, noticing new marks that weren't there the last time you looked it over. "Have you guys..." As the words leave your lips, the confidence in your chest falters. You clear your throat in attempt to recapture your resolve. "Have you decided where we are going next? I mean—Switzerland is still the plan, right?"

Price's eyes sweep over you once, twice, before moving to Ghost, brow ticking as if in question. This irritates you—as if he is asking Ghost whether or not he should tell you, and you have to bite your cheek to fight a scowl. 

There is a subtle nod from Ghost that you think you might imagine, but Price looks back at you. "Switzerland is still the plan. We need to get here first—" he taps a finger on the map at the edge of England,"—to the Strait of Dover. The narrowest part of the channel. The biggest question is how. Going through London is the quickest way."

"But London is bound to be teeming with Greys," you frown.

"Precisely."

Kyle threads a hand through his hair, visibly concerned. "But going around it means more fuel."

"Well, how much do we have?" you ask, finally glancing at Ghost. You are scared of the answer.

He lifts the two cans up. "About 43 liters, plus the 30 already in the truck."

You feel relieved. "That's actually decent."

Kyle shakes his head. "Decent, yeah. But we're bound to have to end up taking side streets and stopping here and there for shit that's on the road, which wastes fuel. It's not a perfect drive."

"Well," your eyes move over the truck, then back to Price, "Can't we just go the long way, see how far the truck gets us, then do the rest on foot?"

"Are you willing to carry the kayak, Twix?" Price asks.

You flush. "I mean, it's not impossible is it?"

Ghost sets the cans down. "It's too much to carry. We can't go on foot for very far with the kayak, and we need it."

Because the raft is for six people. Not just that, you realize, as you take in just how much is filling the truck bed. All of the supplies have to make it across the water, too. It doesn't matter if six people can get in the raft if the supplies add to the weight limit like an extra person. 

Somewhere in your thinking a hand brushes over your bicep and you flinch. "Cold?"

It's Kyle. Without your response, he chucks off his jacket and places it over your shoulders. You mutter a quiet thanks and slip your hands through the sleeves. 

You don't know why, but your gaze shifts to Ghost, though you are only met with an unreadable expression before his attention refocuses on the map. He moves a gloved finger over it, landing on Colchester.

"Then we take a longer route on the water. If we avoid London and travel on the east side, we save fuel making it to the coast. The trip across will be longer than the Strait of Dover, but I'd rather take that risk than go through London. It's a fucking death trap there."

"That's a possibility," Price nods slowly, mewling it over. He rubs his beard. "Leaving from the Colchester coastline would mean maybe eight or ten hours to get across, which we can manage—with the right weather." 

"Colchester, then," Kyle says. He seems more keen to this idea, shoulders loosening. "We can take the A14 towards Kettering. Can't be more than an hour or two from here. And then the A11. It should avoid the worst of it."

Price nods and folds the map up. "We keeping moving, then. The longer we stay in one spot, the more risk." He lays a hand on Ghost's shoulder. "This was the right choice, Simon."

Ghost simply nods.

The plan seems solid enough. Drive to the channel and get across. It is the water that makes you the most uneasy, and traveling through France where no one here is as familiar with the landscape as they are England. You've tried to recall what you heard from the radios way back at the start. You know Paris, a major city, succumbed quickly. But what about the rest of it? 

You wonder if Ghost is as scared as you are to be ripped from the small semblance of safety he has had for over five years now. If he is, it doesn't show. He is back to clinical. A lieutenant. Not the man you've grown far too comfortable throwing attitude at.

When Kyle and Price leave to make a small fire with gathered kindling, he tosses the jerry cans back in the truck and grabs your arm before you can walk away.

"How is she?" he asks.

Blue, he means.

You look back at the tent. "She's doing alright, I think. Scared. But she understands." You wet your lips. "She doesn't know, does she? About us heading for Switzerland with them."

"I haven't had the chance to talk to her yet."

You nod, teeth grazing your bottom lip. "Thank you... for letting me be apart of that conversation. I know that I—I don't have as much value here as everyone else, but I am still worth keeping around. I am ready to help. Just tell me what to do, Ghost, and I'll do it. You know I will. I am stronger than I was before, thanks to you."

Ghost's head tilts downward as a breath of silence passes between you.

He doesn't comment on anything you've just said. He takes hold of one your hands. You are confused before he pries it open, grabbing your thumb and inspecting it like a slide under a microscope. The nick from when you cut your hair. The scab you've failed to let take.

"Stop picking at it, unless you want an infection."

"I can't help it sometimes."

He drops your hand. The warmth fizzles. "You still have antiseptic?"

You nod. 

"Good. Use it only for yourself. Understood?" 

"Yeah," you breathe, and wonder with a furrowed brow why he is bringing this up now. There is no chance to ask when he grabs the lapel of the jacket on your shoulders and begins to force it off. 

"Give this back to Kyle. You have your own."

Breakfast consists of jerky, beans, and water that Price and Kyle tapped from a tree. A spile. Of course, they have one. You try not to feel spiteful of how competent they are—prepared. Just like Ghost. If only Paul had such things at his disposal. Maybe he could've devised a stronger Plan B. Maybe they would've been able to get away with you that first time around.

Ghost explains to Blue the plan. That there is no going back, not now or ever. That there will be a new home for them, a safer one where they will never have to flee, far away in another country where other people have made a community, where she could have more friends. It is all wishful thinking, of course, but he has to sell it to her as something certain.

You overhear bits of the conversation as you force yourself to eat. She sounds sad and distant. Detached. Like she hears what he is saying but doesn't really hear it. Still, she isn't crying anymore. When they are done talking, she eats her breakfast in small bites beside Ari. 

By high morning, the air heats up, and you don't need a jacket at all. It is time to move onward. Kyle and Ghost take the tents down. Nereida whispers something to her husband and then disappears behind a tree somewhere. When she returns, she taps your shoulder.

"My period just came," she says, shaking her head. "Quite the timing, huh?"

Oh. "I'm sorry, that sucks. You have little towels and stuff for it?"

She nods. "Yes, luckily. Remember the rosemary I found? I use that to help fight the odor so Greys can't smell it as well. Let me know if you ever need any." You take a mental note. "You know, I was hoping getting my tubes tied would stop things like this. All it did was make it more irregular."

Your brows furrow. "Wait—you mean, you did that before the spread?"

She smiles lightly. "I never wanted to be pregnant. Really makes things less stressful now."

That makes sense, then. That her and Price don't have to worry. The question has popped into your brain a few times now, against your will, whenever you caught sight of them kissing and touching. They seem far too intimate, even in those small moments, to not be having sex in private. 

Just before taking off, you unpack your supplies and wrap up your thumb with some ointment. More than anything you want to crawl under a blanket and hide, preferably back on Ghost's warm bed. But as you crawl back into the truck, that vision fades further behind you, and you will yourself to focus on the road ahead, to keep moving. 

[madamechrissy]

Silent Serenades

♔ An arranged Marriage with Duke Gojo ♔

♔ Pairings: Duke Satoru Gojo x Duchess Reader

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

♔ Word count: this chap: 12.2k

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

Comments and Reblogs appreciated if you enjoyyy <3

Part Eleven ♔ Masterlist ♔ Playlist

Part Twelve

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nanami…” He begins again.

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

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

“Like trying to steal wives?”

“Steal, you didn’t even want her!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And she’s forgiven you already.”

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

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

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

“Oh, she came on my-”

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

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

“He’s… I… I love him. I do.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“For now.”

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

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

“Oh will you now?”

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

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

“You mean to get killed!?”

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

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

“Capable of being manipulated?”

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

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

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

“What!? No…”

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

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

“You should! You should.”

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

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

“How do you even know-”

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

“You’re foolish.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But it hurts, fuck it hurts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m horrible, I’m terrible, I’m-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you staring at my breasts!?”

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

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

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

“I hurt him.”

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

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

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

“You would not have!”

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

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

“Or have I?” He’s grinning deviously.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is that?”

“He’s not in your heart.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“All of it!?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You eagerly do, tongue out, and he moans.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your wound-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mnh!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Satoru we haven’t… um…”

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

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

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

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

“Oh, that’s it, arch f’me.”

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

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

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

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

“Please, please, please!”

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

“Please!”

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

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

“Fuck you’re easy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He presses it now. “Yes, yes, yes.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Wh-what?”

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

“Conceited…”

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

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

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

“What, Satoru? The feelings we share?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Then we can stop for now-”

“But do you want children?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The next week

Opera house

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

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

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

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

But…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It is not at all. Let’s go home.”

“But-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can’t wait!” You say with a grin.

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

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

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

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

“She is a sweet girl.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re more than your past!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Excuse me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Satoru, what are you thinking?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll have them draw a bath for us.”

🩸Period scene OVER 🩸

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

“What’s that song?” You ask.

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

“Oh, I’m jealous!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Me!?”

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

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

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

“I cannot either, Toru.”

Three days Later

The Royal Palace

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

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

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

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

You adore him so much.

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

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

It’s like looking in a goddamn mirror.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What if…

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

You can’t breathe.

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

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Part Thirteen