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The Tortured Poets Department
Read on A03. Also this is entirely @lucyllawless 's fault.
The road was winding out in front of them. The dark leaves sticking to the soles of her feet. Agatha hated it here. She hated the darkness, the way it warped around everything, clinging to it like tar. She could hear Billy behind her, following closely as if he was about to miss something. He wasn't. They had lost half the coven. Alice was her fault and Lilia. Lilia had sacrificed herself for them. It made her skin crawl. She could remember the one constant who had saved her. Over and over again. Unconsciously, she brushed her thumb over the underside of her ring. She sighed, pushing her hands into her pockets. She could remember every time Rio had come to her rescue. Every time she had given her that smirk and by the Gods, what was she doing on this stupid road again.
Jens sniffle made her pause. Turning, she could see the tears tracking down her cheeks.
“Crying isn't going to bring her back,” wow, way to be sympathetic.
“She wouldn't be dead if this wasn't for you,” Jens anger came through harder than Agatha expected but really Agatha should expect it. Jen was a formidable witch. She always had been. They had once been friends. Kind of. Well, more acquaintances. They had only really crossed paths before once. When Agatha was nine months pregnant and in labour. Typically, Rio, who had gotten her into that situation, was not there to get her out. But now, watching Jens face contort in anguish, it made something stir in Agatha.
“I know,” Agatha admitted. “I know the seven were my fault and I'm sorry that they took Lilia but we can't dwell on it. We need to get to the next trial so we can get out of this forsaken place.”
Jen had paused in front of her. “You're scared too.”
“Of course I'm scared, Jen.” Agatha revealed. “Alice is dead, Lilia is gone and Rio-”
Agatha bit back her emotions. She wouldn't show the fear of her wife on her face.
“What about Rio?” Billy asked.
“Rio's vanished,” Agatha lied. She knew exactly where Rio was. Rio was ferrying bodies to her realm.
Agatha turned, she wasn't interested in listening to them mourn the losses.
“Would she come for Lilia?” Billy's innocence made her feel nauseous and she spared a glance as they walked at Jen.
Agatha couldn't help the words that escaped her lips. “Death comes for us all.”
No one answered. No one made eye contact. Instead they continued walking. One foot in front of another. That was all she could do. All any of them could do until the night grew darker. The air grew colder. Agatha found herself looking around as they came to a large meadow the road widening.
“We should stop,” her suggestion was met by stern looks as she turned.
“Why?” Billy's spite spat around her and Agatha pushed away the hurt.
“Because it's late,” Jen answered for her. “And I'd like a break from this road making my calves into tree trunks.”
Billy's scowl back at her made her lift her hand in a half shrug but then they were moving, collecting wood and lighting a fire. Just like they had with the rest of their coven.
The crackle of the fire was the only sound that filled around them. It made her stomach twist in pain. Agatha wanted to say something, anything to make it better. Instead, she looks down at her hand and twists the dark rock on her hand. Nostalgia itched at her. Memories began to creep into the corners of her mind. A crunch of leaves made her look up at Jen. Jen who stood in front of her. Uncertainty on her face. Dark eyes looked between her and the space beside her.
With a sigh, Agatha waved her hand and Jen quickly sat. The taller woman watched Billy collect firewood and then begin making a makeshift shelter.
“So,” Agatha shifted uncomfortably. “Do we get smores or-”
“Did you mean it?” Jen snapped. Agatha reeled. Her lip curled ready to attack but then Jens question came softer. “Did you mean to take Alice's power?”
Agatha stuttered before clamping her jaw shut. “No,” her genuine words felt odd on her tongue. Just like when she had told the Teen about the Sigil. She had known deep down. Jen waited and Agatha hated that the priestess was determined for more information. But she gave it. “It was an accident. I-I can't control it. For so long it was second nature and then not having it. I think my powers just reacted.”
“Agatha-”
“I know a 350 year old witch who still doesn't have her shit together,” Agatha’s humourless laugh echoed in her chest.
“So you didn't mean it?”
“No, Jen, I didn't mean it,” Agatha swallowed the emotion that threatened to clog her throat. “I didn't even know I was doing it until it was too late.”
“And your coven?” Jen prodded deeper. “Rio said your mother wanted you executed?”
“She wasn't exactly mother of the year material.” Agatha deflected. She looked down at her hands, she didn��t like this. It felt damaging like if she opened up, Jen would see every little imperfection that came with her. Imperfections that she had smothered and hidden over the centuries.
“I’m sorry,” Jen muttered, her face contorting as the words tasted sour. “About leaving you in that trial. I didn’t know-”
Agatha shrugged. “All you know is that I killed my coven. Why would you care that they were the ones who started it.”
“Is that what happened?” Jen prodded and it made Agatha’s skin crawl, she had to get to the end of this godforsaken road and get away from the Spanish Inquisition.
“I wanted to learn,” Agatha pursed her lips. It was Jen. Jen who she hated but also Jen who had handed her her son in the middle of the worst snowstorm in New England history. “But it was above me to know that.”
Jens brow drew tight but it was Billy who asked, “They were going to kill you for trying to learn the craft?”
Agatha’s tight smile made her look away. “It was above my station,” Agatha repeated her mothers words that fateful night.
“Covens are protective of their craft,” Jen explained to the boy. “Especially old ones. There's a hierarchy that they respect.”
Jens pointed look makes Agatha lift a shoulder. Honestly, why was it so bad to learn?
But Billy wasn't stupid, his gaze narrowed on her as she tried to school the memories of her mother finding her with the grimoire. Trying to find out why her magic presented differently. Purple, not blue.
“You were trying to learn about your power.”
“And we all know how that worked out,” Agatha drawled, looking back down at her hands. She had been scared after it first happened, to understand why she had murdered her kin but then she wasn't sure it was such a bad thing. They had never understood her, looked down on her. Her own mother had kept her at arms length for most of her life. Rio had been the one to save her. To pick up the pieces and tell her it was all ok, that she had a unique gift, one that could build empires and burn worlds.
She stared at her palms, now devoid of that power. She turned them over and examined the ring that had sat on her finger for nearly 250 years. The first century with Rio had been fun. They had spent a lot of time enjoying the revolution across the north east. Particularly causing issues with Governors daughters. Agatha had been close a few times, close to getting caught, to being revealed as a witch. But every time Rio popped up just in time. Saving her, being charming to those around them and whisking her away to spend days in each other's company. For the first fifty years, it had been in throws of passion, seeking physical touches to remind each other of what they had found the first time they had met in the forest near Salem. But, like everything, the season changed, things aged and matured like the trees that surrounded her small coven. Her relationship with Rio had changed, it aged, it became something comforting. That’s not to say the passion faded. If anything it got worse. But them, together, it was something Agatha couldn’t put into words. For centuries, she gallivanted around the globe, gaining power like a drug and Rio was there by her side, collecting the dead and then returning to Agatha for their time together.
Agatha turned her hands back and stared at the dark rock nestled between two silver branches. Agatha remembered the day she got it.
“You're ring,” Billy's annoying inquisitive voice broke her thoughts. “Was it your mothers?”
Agatha tried not to snort at the look Rio would have given him had she been here.
“No,” Agatha stated simply and she glanced at Jen who looked down at her own ring.
“What-what do they do?” Teens brow was drawn tight and Agatha's eye caught Jens. Jen who blushed and looked away. Jen knew exactly what they meant.
“What does your textbook say?” Agatha nodded to the leather bound book.
His frown drew deeper and she watched him dig through the little grimoire.
“Will it even be in there?” Jen asked under her breath. Agatha shrugged, it was worth a shot. The fire crackled as he dug through page after page. As he did, Agatha revelled in the warmth of the fire. The temperature had dropped from autumn in New Jersey to winter. The cloud of their breath spilled around them and she could see Billy tightening his jumper around him.
Rio was close.
Only death was this cold.
“Life ties?” Billy's voice broke her thoughts and she saw Jen smirk. “Wait, this can't be right, it says here that life ties bind your soul to that person so that when you perish. They perish too.”
Agatha waited and watched the way his little brain caught up.
“You managed to get a soul tie to Death?” Jens judgy voice beat the kid.
“What can I say I'm irresistible?” Agatha teased.
“It says that you can't harm each other,” Billy voiced. “but she cut you when she was in your house.”
“Harm as in kill,” Agatha explained. “At least not directly.”
“So if she threw you off a cliff?” Jen proposed.
“It'd be allowed,” Agatha relented. “On the technicality it was natural.”
“But she threw you off the cliff?” Billy's frown reminded her eerily of Nickys when faced with a difficult quandary. The similar draw of his brows into a deep frown, the way his lips tilted downwards. “She's the cause.”
With a roll of her eyes, she repeated the same response Rio had given her nearly 315 years ago. “The Living Tribunal doesn't tend to look at it that way.”
Jen opened her mouth with widened eyes clearly ready to go full steam ahead down the track but Billy's questions stopped her. “But stabbing you. Not allowed?”
“Look at you keeping up,” Agatha huffed. She wasn't sure she enjoyed this curiosity but it was better than them asking about her mother. Or Nicky.
Billy's head dipped back down to his little book and then his head snapped back up. “But it says that your lives are bound to one another. That it's sacred.”
Jens voice broke through next, “Keep up Teen, it's basically a witches marriage.”
His jaw dropped as a blush rose in his cheeks.
Agatha looked over at Jen, “Spoil sport.”
“He wasn't going to get that we are all on the rainbow scale.” Jen drawled with a huff, smoothing out the dirty wrinkles of her dress. Billy's brows rose impossibly higher into his hairline.
“You too-”
“Please, you don't live for 150 years and not try something new. No one is that straight,” Jen snapped impatiently. Honestly, she was a terrible teacher.
“I forgot how good your bedside manner was,” Agatha smirked, looking back down at her ring.
“You were a bit busy bringing life into the world,” Jen shot back. Agatha’s smirk dropped. Her hand unconsciously went to the locket. Jen watched her, her eyes widening only a fraction as Agatha tore her gaze away. The taller witch didn’t apologise, she never did for her barbs but Agatha could see the regret in her stance.
“Wait,” Billy asked, oblivious to the tension between the elder witches. “It says that the protection on it is linked as well, that they can always feel where one another is. Is this like some weird soulmate thing?”
Agatha didn’t respond. She knew the stone was something that only Rio had made. An original stone of the universe.
“Does Death even have a soul?” Billy whispered, looking between the two.
“She did,” Agatha muttered. “Once upon a time.”
“What happened?” God, he was nosy.
Agatha glanced around at both of her companions and she saw no malice. This is what covens did, they shared with one another and hell, at this rate none of them were making it out alive so what was the point in keeping it all tucked in. It wasn’t going to hurt her.
“She gave it to me,” Agatha recalled. Her thumb brushed the stone unconsciously, bumping over the sigil within the stone. “You’d be surprised at how many enemies she has.”
“I mean, she literally ferries the dead,” Jen pondered. “So it’s not really surprising.”
“No, you don’t get it,” Agatha muttered, her defences rising. “Even she isn’t invulnerable.”
“But surely she can’t die?” Jen asked. “She’s already dead.”
Agatha shook her head. “It’s complicated.”
“So uncomplicate it,” Jen pushed but Agatha was pushing to her feet. She turned to both of them and thought about it for only a moment.
“No.” Instead, Agatha turned, and walked into the darkness. Her arms curling around herself to keep the heat in. She didn’t want to reveal Rio’s secrets, they were hers to keep. That was the oath they had sworn to one another in the depths of New England, in the home they promised to build together. The home they did build together. The home they destroyed together.
Agatha looked down at the black stone on her finger, the sigil glimmering in the moonlight. “You really outdid yourself this time.”
“I'd say I learnt from the best but we all know it was the other way around.”
Agatha didn't turn at the sound of her voice. At the taunting to get a rise out of her.
“What are you here for?” Agatha asked, looking forward into the darkness. “Me?”
“No,” she could practically hear the pout. “You'll meet your end the natural way.”
“The boy then?”
“He broke the rules.”
“He didn't know.”
Rio's exasperation was clear. “He's not-”
“I know who he is,” Agatha snapped, turning to the dark eyes that watched her closely. She was in her full dark clothing, ready to collect.
“You're protective of him,” Rio observed, stepping closer. “Why? He turned on you the moment you showed him who you really were?”
“He's just a kid,” Agatha wasn't giving Rio more ammunition.
“No,” Rio pouted. “That's not it.” She moved purposefully around Agatha each step crunching the frozen leaves beneath them. “He tugs on those human heart strings of yours. The ones you try to pretend aren't there.” Agatha glowered. “You always were soft when it came to children.”
“You know how I feel about that?” She shouldn't have snapped. She should have kept that card closer to her chest.
Rio smirked. “It’s life, Agatha. The road of life isn't an easy one.”
“You don't get to tell me about that,” Agatha’s emotions reared as her mind went to her son.
Rio had the decency to look wounded for a second before her face became void. “I'm sorry. I've always been sorry. You know that.”
“It doesn't excuse you taking him,” Agatha tried to swallow back the emotion but the softness crept into Rio's gaze.
“You know as well as I do that we couldn't control what happened to Nicky.”
Agatha flinched. It had been so long since his name had been spoken aloud by either of them. Especially in one another's presence. She had to protect herself to stop this line of questioning.
“Yes, well, it's the past.” Agatha huffed, pulling her arms tighter around herself. “So what now? You just go kill the boy?”
“You know that's not how it works,” Rio drawled. “I would have been out of your hair sooner but you're pleading warmed the heart.”
“You don't have a heart.”
Rio smirked, her eyes landing on Agatha’s ring. “Yes, I do. It's yours.”
Agatha curled her hand involuntarily. She shifted her feet on the freezing ground. It was growing colder by the second, she could see her own breath.
“You’re cold,” Rio’s head tilted.
“Well you aren’t exactly a ray of sunshine,” Agatha huffed and Rio stepped closer, her hand sliding up her back. It was automatic. The reaction of her body relaxing into the warm touch.
“I can be exactly how you wanted me to be,” Rio’s breath ghosted across her ear, as scalding arms encircled her.
But Agatha knew the game the witch played. She had played it so many times before. “So I give in and give you Billy?”
Rio stiffened. “Honestly,” she pouted. “He’s just one life that broke the rules.”
“He made a mistake.”
“Like you did?”
It was like a slap.
Rio didn’t flinch, didn’t move as Agatha turned slowly to look at her. Her brow quirked in that perfect arch.
“Goodbye Rio.”
Agatha turned, stalking past Death as she made her way back to their small camp. Rio didn’t move. Didn’t utter a word. As soon as she made it back to camp, she curled in front of the warmth of the fire. Jen and Billy both curled up, eyes closed. Agatha subtly checked they were breathing before settling. She didn’t close her eyes, instead she watched the road around them. Knowing that Death clung to the darkness. They would wake and continue on the trial and meet Death at the end.
#agatha all along#agatha harkness#rio vidal#agatha x rio#agathario#fic#agatha all along spoilers#mcu#marvel#I'm obsessed with the ring
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you are so so loved by God and by all of us here on tumblr and I am sending you so much love tonight. please stay. things will get better I promise. <3
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#anon i am so sorry that my first reaction was legitimately 'damn it' because i want to die so bad right now. have all day#all evening#am drinking a hot drink and gonna maybe listen to music in a bit once i hopefully stop feeling so overwhelmed by TEXTURES#does it count as self harm that i scratched the back of my hand until it bled earlier?#i couldn't stop thinking about the knives#even now i wish my sis would leave the room a mo i NEED to know where the knives are#I NEED THEM#tw sh#tw suicide#i swear if i had one rn id be in a bad way#fool that i am tho i cut my palm and it hurts like mad when i do things#but i. i. TEXTURES#I NEED THEM GONE I NEED TO STOP FEELING MY SKIN OR I NEED PAIN TO COVER IT UP#I NEED IT TO STOP#personal#but thanks anon. truly <3
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Commission for @madamsnape921
Request: You have period sex for the first time with your monster bf.
Reminder that I offer commissions here!
Monster bf whimpers helplessly, the smell of your pheromones even more potent now that you’re on your period. Your smell and his aching cock, dripping with pre-cum, is sure to make him go insane the longer you keep yourself from him.
He presses his face into your neck, surrounding himself with your scent and marking you with his as he kisses along your warm smooth skin. Hoping to slowly lull you into acceptance, distract you from your uncertainty about letting him fuck your sweet drooling pussy while on your period for the first time.
“Please, my heart, I can smell how much you need me,” he growls against your skin, licking and nipping at your throat. Attempting to control himself as more of your addictive scent flows into his senses.
His claws slowly rake down your body, feeling the soft curves and contours of your form that he treasures so deeply. Stopping once they reach your thighs and spreading them for his broad build. His actions filling your mind with a haze of lust as he starts to grind his thick cock into exposed panties.
“But-but… fuck!” You exclaim, hands wrapping around his neck as you begin to rock with his movements. Seeking more, seeking relief. Monster bf snarls, rolling his hips harder into you as he sees your resistance weakening.
“Let me take care of my mate. Don’t deny me such privileges. Allow me to smooth your aches and cherish you as you deserve,” Monster bf rumbles, hands caressing you tenderly as his girth has your pussy pooling with arousal.
The last of your resolve snaps when Monster bf loving massages right where your cramps have been bugging you all day before dipping down and rubbing circles into your clit. You gasp as your hips jolt from the sensation.
“Need you,” you beg, forehead against his, and still meeting his every movement. Monster bf grunts, loving the way you sound when you’re so desperate for him as moans spill from your lips.
The pressure on your puffy clit deepens. A dark look passing over your bfs face, craving to see you fall apart for him so damn easily. You let the pleasure consume you, crying out, and rutting into your bfs body until the cord breaks. Your orgasm washing over you and drowning you in ecstasy.
Though you can feel the pain of your cramps lessen, it’s not enough. Not now that you know how much it’ll help; how good it feels when on your period.
“Want more,” you whimper through heavy breaths, all second-guessing having long since gone out the window. Monster bf chuckles and helps you get his clothes off before helping you with your own.
With your body all prepped he slides inside your hot wet cunt with ease. Sighing in relief as groans of satisfaction rip from your lips.
“I know, I know. That’s it, take my cock. Maybe a bruised cervix will distract you from the cramps…” Monster bf teases as he plunges inside your dripping and needy pussy. Despite his words, he attempts to go easy on your sore body.
But you squeeze tightly around his steady rhythm, sucking his cock back in with each thrust. Monster bf growls, seeing just how badly you need him. Without a word he picks up pace, pounding his length roughly inside you. Never letting up for a second, giving you everything he has.
His arms wrap around you, keeping you in place as he fucks his length into you. The melodic squelch of your hips meeting makes him feral, salivating at the thought of you coating his cock your release.
He doesn’t stop until he’s done just that, even as your body trembles, your climax bursting out of you. He works you through it, joining you a moment later and filling you with his seed.
Keeping you wrapped up in his embrace, he shifts you both onto your sides. He proceeds to pepper your face in soft kisses and massage any remaining aches out of your spent form. Wanting to make this monthly experience as bearable as possible for his mate.
#monster fucker#terato#monster fuqqer#monster#monster lust#monster romance#monster fudger#monster fluff#monster fic#monster imagine#monster boy#monster bf#monster boyfriend#monster lover#monster x reader#monster x human#monster x y/n#monster x you#monster x female#monster x girl#monster x fem!reader#reader x monster#human x monster#x reader#x fem!reader#monsters#monster boi#monster man#monster character#monster enby
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D.
Pairing: bf!Jungkook x gf!reader
Summary: it’s just smut tbh
released: 14.05.24
Warning: eating out from behind, spanking, doggystyle, dom!jk, unprotected sex, little bit of dirty talk, readers called a slut (during sex), breast play, chocking (pretending to), hair pulling, not proofread!!
Note: sorry for being inactive, I’ll try to post more. I actually have a lot of unfinished story in my drafts. I’ll try to finish them and post them soon.
————
“It’s too much!” You cry out as your boyfriend eats you out from behind. You’re on all fours on the bed with your boyfriend making you see stars.
“Take it.” His voice gets muffled by your pussy but you still manage to make out what he said, “take it like a good girl.”
You clench around his tongue which is inside you and Jungkook grunts, his hands on your hips, squeezing them.
Jungkook slides his tongue out and sucks on your clit making you moan out at the feeling. You buck your hips but Jungkook stops you by keeping you in place by the grip on your hips, “ah ah,” he says, detaching his mouth from your aching core, “You take what I give you.” He grins.
You look back at him, “Kookie please!” You whine like a little toddler, Jungkook chuckles at your state, “that’s not going to work, baby. Now be a good girl and take what I give you or I’ll edge you.” His stare turns sharp, so does his voice. The amusement in his eyes and voice long gone.
You huff and turn your head around. You wince when you feel a spank delivered to your ass, “Did you understand?” He sternly asks you, deciding to not act like a brat and do what he tells you to, you nod. Another spank is delivered to your ass, this time harder than the last one, “words.”
“Yes, I understand.” You just need to feel his mouth on your pussy again, or yet better his cock.
“Good.” Jungkook rubs the spot where he spanked you, trying to soothe the pain. He parts your fold and gives you a little kiss on your heat as an apology.
You bite your lip to surpass the moan threatening to spill out. You try to ignore the burning sensation on your ass and focus on the pleasure.
Jungkook has his hands placed on your hips, his shirt laying somewhere on the floor, his pants pushed down to his knees, the bulge evident through his white Calvin Klein boxers. He keeps sucking on your clit, an endless string of moans and whimpers leave your mouth.
Jungkook pushes your pussy harder against his face by using his hands that are placed on your hips. When he feels like you’re nearing your edge he stops.
“What….” You turn your head to look at him. Your juices on his chin and lips, “I was so close!” You whine and watch him lick his chin and the area around his mouth, tasting you.
“I can give you something better.” He shrugs.
In the next minute his pants and underwear are also on the floor, he aligns his cock with your entrance, pushing the tip in is enough for your thighs to quiver, “look at you,” he mocks you, “my cock isn’t even inside you and you’re already shaking like that.” He quietly laughs at that.
Without any warning he pushes his cock all the way in. Jungkook groans in satisfaction and you moan.
All that is heard, is skin clapping, moans and squelching noises your pussy is making.
“You take me so well.” Jungkook grunts, “you feel so good, so tight.” You whimper at his praise.
His cock sliding in and out of you at a rapid speed, his thighs meeting your ass at every thrust, “s- so good, kookie!” You gasp out.
His one hand is playing with your pussy while the other one is pushing your head into the pillow.
“Yeah? You like getting fucked hard?” He rasps out, “y-yes!” You cry out, “fuckin’ me so good, gguk!”
“You filthy slut.” He slaps your cunt and more tears roll down your cheeks due to pleasure. The bed is making weird noises, it might break.
Jungkook grabs a handful of your hair and yanks your head back, your back pressing against his front. The thrusts don’t stop.
His hand travels to your waist, holding it tightly to keep you in place. His other hand is playing with your breasts, flicking the nipples and rolling them between his thumb and forefinger.
When you clench around his cock, he’s sure you’re close to coming. His hand that was previously playing with your breasts, is holding your neck now, choking you.
He isn’t actually chocking you, just squeezing your neck every time you clench around him, “fuck I’m close, baby. Wanna come together?” You only manage to nod.
“Gonna make you so full, full with my cum, full with my babies.” He mumbles shakily, spurting his seeds into you. You moan his name when cumming.
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do not copy or translate!
Maserlist
#jungkook#jungkook x reader#y/n#bts#jeon jungkook#jungkook fanfic#boyfriend jungkook#boyfriend#bf jungkook#bts fanfic#bts fic#bts army#bts jungkook#smut#jk smut
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。TANGLED — GETO SUGURU.
contents. just suguru needing his hair brushed for him bc he’s def so me and gets mad over the knots lol—alternative title: princess suguru and his frog <3
suguru huffs in front of your mirror—and it’s quite the frustrated huff, too—before he slams the hair brush down.
you raise a brow, “you okay over there?”
“no. ‘s knotted,” he mutters, referring to his hair. there’s a quiet grumbling of something unintelligible under his breath before he glares at himself in the mirror.
suguru loves his hair—anyone would know that just by looking at him. most guys use two-in-one shampoo (like satoru) but suguru? he practically hogs your shower space with all of the products he owns. his hair is well maintained and perfectly neat every time you see him. but sometimes, like now, it’s also a pain to brush once it’s knotted. and, well, he doesn’t handle it very well.
“you’ve been brushing for—” you pretend to check your bare wrist for the time, “—like ten minutes,” you giggle.
“very funny,” he grunts bitterly. and then, more petulantly this time, “i’m cutting it off for real this time.”
“you said that last time,” you remind him, eyes glinting with amusement.
“this time i mean it.”
“no you don’t, sugu.”
“i do,” he insists, glaring at you through the mirror, “it’s getting too long, and i don’t have the time to brush all these damn knots every two hours. so, it’s getting cut.”
“okay,” you nod casually—anyone can tell you don’t believe him.
his expression sours. suguru gets in very bad moods when his hair doesn’t cooperate, it’s evident in the way he flares his nostrils and scowls.
“you still don’t believe me? i’m being serious.”
“okay, baby,” you snort, finally deciding to take matters into your own hands as you rise from your bed and walk over. you stand behind him, reaching around him for the hair brush before gently pulling him back to stand closer. “i’ll get it for you, don’t worry. wouldn’t want your princess hair gone.”
“stop calling it that,” he groans, but the tension leaves his shoulders as soon as you gently brush through his strands, starting at the bottom and working your way up. it’s quiet for a bit—nothing but the soft sound of your humming as you work through the tangles in his long (perfect) hair.
“you could’ve just asked if you wanted me to brush it,” you tease after a few moments, “no need to throw a tantrum.”
“glad to see you’re enjoying this,” he rolls his eyes. and then, when you’ve finished and set the brush down, he turns to face you, wrapping his arms around your waist as his face finds the crook of your neck.
you hum, pecking the side of his head before threading your fingers into his dark locks, stroking through the soft strands and silently marveling at the length.
“you’re so pretty, suguru,” you murmur, “did’ya know that?”
“oh yeah?” he chuckles into your skin, lips curling into a loose smile. his arms tighten around you, pulling you impossibly closer.
“yeah,” you nod, “like a princess. my prettiest princess.”
“i thought i told you to quit with that,” he says exasperatedly—you can feel the heat from his cheeks, and you grin to yourself knowing he’s blushing as he hides his face deeper into your shoulder.
“it’s true,” you insist, “i’m no liar. i’m a truther.”
“debatable,” he mumbles. you smack his shoulder playfully, and he squeezes your hips in response. “aren’t you going to tie it for me too?” he finally asks, and you’re sure there’s a pout curled on those lips of his. you ache to kiss them—and you will, just not right now.
right now, you’ll stay like this a bit longer.
“this is real princess treatment,” you sigh dramatically, “yes your highness. i’ll tie it too.”
“thank you,” he says, thoroughly satisfied. and then, quieter, like it’s a secret only you’re supposed to know, “i love you.”
“i love you too,” you happily murmur, “but that might change if you cut your hair.”
“are you only dating me for my hair?”
“yes,” you snicker playfully, “it’s the main appeal. the princess appeal.”
“you know what,” suguru says thoughtfully, “i’ll be your princess.”
“really?” you gasp in excitement, making him nod into your neck as he presses a delicate kiss to your skin.
“sure,” he grins slyly, “and you can be the frog.”
the moment is officially ruined—and for a second, you think you might just have to cut his hair off in his sleep after that one.
come join me in the most self indulgent drabble once again. also the title being tangled even tho the reference is the princess and the frog is a tad bit funny to me jdjsjd i did giggle i can’t lie
#teepods.writings#drabbles.#geto x reader#geto x y/n#geto x you#geto fluff#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk fluff#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x you#geto suguru fluff#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff
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𝐁𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤 | ryōmen sukuna
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: true form! Sukuna x fem/afab! reader - mosterfucking - double penetration (he got two) - biting - spanking - light choking - mention of blood.
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: a quick something I wrote for Sukuna to take a break from writing a fic + I have jack shit for him in my masterlist, lmao.
Ryōmen Sukuna is most definitely a biter. There is no need to state this since it is obvious. But imagine him plowing you from behind, watching your ass quake under his erratic thrusts, forcing out choked moans from your writhing body moving to and fro with his. Tears roll down warm cheeks onto the cold cream sheets that cover the futon. Hands grip the material for dear life with every rut to your leaky cunt. And when he smacks the cusp of your ass, a shriek cannot be restrained from your lips.
Sukuna loves your screams. They please him to no end — a gorgeous tune to his devilish ears. As a sadistic man, nothing gives him more joy during these moments than inflicting pain onto your sweet tiny body forced to accommodate both his girthy cocks. A beast like him is allowed to use you as he sees fit. His little pet. His little toy. Not like you can refuse. Judging by how your body adapts to his dicks inside your holes, it is apparent that you're also enjoying this, too.
Two hands are stationed on your hips to propel you forward to him, and the other two hold your hands behind your back. You're left with nothing to conceal the whimpers and cries that fly out your mouth. He wants to hear it all — the sound of your ass meeting his pelvis, the choked sobs when his black fingertips dent into the depth of your hips, your pants for air as he takes them away. It turns him on so fucking much.
He can’t fight the urge anymore — the sight of your sweaty body quivering under his bow gets him riled up. Your skin, so beautiful and pure, displayed none of his markings from the times before now. Blue eyes narrow to your shoulder, clear of nothing but sweat. Well, he’s just going to have to fix that.
He comes down to your shoulder and sinks his teeth into your flesh. A sharp cry sneaks its way out of you.
“Eyyahhhh!!! Su-Sukuna, don’t, please! I can’t have any ma— Ahhaahhnn!!”
“Who told you’re in a position to order me, brat?” He gives the mark on your shoulder a slow lick, tasting the twinge of blood to engage his taste. One of his hands snakes its way to your throat to squeeze. Your mind plunging into a deeper haze than before. “Know your place. Don’t stop screaming for me.”
More chews to your shoulders prompt more tears to escape from your strained-shut eyes. And the pacing of his cock becomes unbearably fast for your brain and senses to keep up. The pain inflicted by his demon mouth, along with the tongue from his stomach licking the sweat of your back, coinciding with the erratic tempo of his hips — it’s all too much to bear. And your release hits you hard, your cunt and ass clamping onto his lengths that continue to rut into your now sensitive parts.
“Mmmph, haahhh…Heh, now you think you can come without my permission, huh?” Sukuna whispers dangerously to your ear, and you whine when his teeth catch your lobe. “Such a pathetic pet, aren’t you.” He pistons his dicks deep inside, churning your tender areas to the point of incoherent babbles. “A damn noisy one, too…Hmmgh! Oh fuck, fuck…”
Before he experiences his climax, Sukuna gives the back of your neck one last bite. Your final shriek signals the ingress of his warm load filling your holes. He keeps you pinned to the futon, making sure you stay still for every bit of his essence to enter within you. Your mind is too far gone to try and fight it — too occupied with the feeling of him corrupting your body internally. Just letting him ride out his own crescendo until he slowly dismembers his huge members off of you. Heavy pants are used to steady his breathing, and he examines his messy work on your body. Bloody bite marks, your ass trembling from the onslaught of ruts and slaps, and silent tears trickle down a dazed face. He snickers to himself.
“Perfect.”
© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2023 — dividers from @/animatedglittergraphics-n-more
#𝑯𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊 ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔: 𝑭𝒊𝒄𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒔#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk imagines#jujutsu kaisen imagines#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna smut#ryomen sukuna fic#ryomen sukuna imagine#sukuna ryomen smut#sukuna x reader#sukuna smut#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n#sukuna scenarios#sukuna fic#sukuna headcanons
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Hi i was wondering if you could write an nsfw head cannon of jacaerys and his wife reader and what their intimate life is like, and like talk about stuff they do.
𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 | 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐀𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐒 𝐗 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑
˗ˏˋ ꒰ summary : request.
˗ˏˋ ꒰ genre : headcanons, smut + slight fluff. ˗ˏˋ ꒰ pairing : : jacaerys velaryon x wife!reader
WARNING.ᐟ THIS FIC CONTAINS ; p in v, unprotected sex, sex from behind, bootfucking, breast play, creampie, slight mentions of mirror sex, oral sex (both receiving), mentions of you riding him, praising, slight mentions of spanking.
: ̗̀➛ Okay, so, for starters. Your intimate life naturally came after you were both officially married, and the bedding ceremony came. To respect your privacy, the two of you already had a chamber of your own to share, and you would be able to be as intimate as you wished.
: ̗̀➛ Initially, Jace would’ve been very soft and delicate with you. It’s in his gentleman nature to be careful, especially with the woman who was now his wife, and he so adored. Things would’ve gone slowly, but surely. And perhaps, there would’ve been a bit of foreplay and kisses before starting anything.
: ̗̀➛ Jace would press sweet, teasing pecks all across your cheek, going down to your jawline, focusing on giving your neck attention with his kisses — especially in a particular spot of your neck where Jace notices it makes you squirm and gasp —, and goes to your collarbone, savouring your skin with each peck.
: ̗̀➛ All the while, of course, Jace’s hands softly move behind your back, playing with the laces of your nightgown as he leisurely unties them, letting your gown become loose from your body, and fall from your shoulders. Being the gentleman he is, of course, Jacaerys would constantly ask you if you’re feeling comfortable with what he’s doing, if you want him to stop, or keep going; all with the most sweetest voice you’ve ever heard.
: ̗̀➛ His coffee eyes would look up at you admiringly, just like a fascinated puppy. You don’t want him to stop any sooner — if anything, the way he teased your skin by pressing soft kisses and caressing it leisurely with the tip of your fingers, merely got you all wet and needy for him. To which, you gave him the green light to keep going.
: ̗̀➛ And my god, you didn’t regret it. The second you approved for him to keep pleasing you, his hands rather desperately pulled down your gown, low enough to just expose your breasts. His mouth immediately took your hardened nipple in a delicate manner, using his tongue to tease it very lightly, and his teeth nibbled on your sensitive skin to leave some lovemarks, using his hands to pinch, twist, and rub your nipples.
: ̗̀➛ Pretty little hushed whimpers & moans would continuously escape from your lips as your eyes flutter shut, and you throw your head back; feeling your cunt grow wet and needy. Each sound that spurred from that beautiful mouth of yours, simply made Jace grow harder for you, with an overwhelming need to fuck you right there, and make you shout loudly his name for everyone to hear who you belong to.
: ̗̀➛ And so he did. By the time Jacaerys had already feasted a bit too much on your delicate skin and sweet breasts, his mouth abruptly pulled away from your tits after some minutes, making you gasp, and his firm yet gentle hand pushed you onto your back against the mattress, getting on tip of you, and fucking you fervently throughout the entire night, cumming in and out of your body several times.
: ̗̀➛ After such lovely bedding night, getting lovingly yet roughly fucked by the eldest son of Rhaenyra Targaryen, you would’ve gotten more and more used to explore your intimacy together - whether it’s privately, or... Even publicly, being a bit more bold.
: ̗̀➛ Jacaerys absolutely adores having you all submissive & needy, as much as it pains him to hold himself back from taking you right there all for him. So, whenever he’s either studying, reading in High Valyrian, or simply reading a book - he will absolutely have you sitting on the floor, whining and begging for him to take you.
: ̗̀➛ You look beautifully endearing just like that, and Jace will tease you by making you sit on top of his boot, and rubbing your needy moist cunt, bootfucking you. Continous desperate whines would escape from you, begging for him to fully take you - but not just yet. Jace prefers having you clinging to his leg, and seeing how you rub yourself with the tip of his boot.
: ̗̀➛ Jace always knows exactly what you like, and what you need. And he keeps the perfect balance between roughness, and gentleness at the same time. Part of him loves treating you as if you were the petal of a rose, or made of glass - delicately and lovingly. And another part of him simply wants to fuck you like a whore, like you need and want to get fucked, rough and disgusting. This, however, doesn’t mean he will not respect the boundaries you’ve set for each other, and afterwards, he will always ask you if you’re okay, and feeling comfortable.
: ̗̀➛ Sex from behind happens often, and I dare to say it’s one of his favourite positions, after having you riding him. The feeling of you becoming weaker with every pound of cock buried deep inside your pussy, continously hitting your soft spot. Expect his hands to always firmly grip your waist violently in a possesively controlling manner... Or, perhaps, one of his hands gropping your breast while he plays with your stimulated nipples. That feels pretty good for both of you.
: ̗̀➛ And speaking about sex from behind! During this position, I can imagine he would like fucking you right in front of a mirror, making sure to change the speed in which he penetrates you just to see the different expressions in your beauteous features. His hand would hold your chin occasionally, forcing you to stare at yourself through the mirror being fucked by him, as he whispers just how much of a good girl you are, taking his cock so well and obediently.
: ̗̀➛ One of his many favourite things to do in bed, is having you go down on him, and him going down on you. The way your hand forms a fist around his throbbing cock, gently masturbating him as your lips press delicate smooches on his leaking tip, moving your mouth all the way down to his cock with small kisses until you decide to finally take him in your mouth makes him go absolutely feral for you.
: ̗̀➛ It would take Jacaerys all the efforts that he has to not grip harshly from your hair, pulling it back, and violently face fuck you until you’re deepthroating his shaft and maybe even gagging a bit. It hurts not doing so, but he prefers to treat you like the true future Queen you are. The way in which your tongue strokes his cock leisurely while you’re going down on him with your mouth provokes him to loudly groan, and chant your name under his breath. As expected, his semen spurs all over the inside of your mouth, your tongue, and the roof of your mouth.
: ̗̀➛ Or, if he’s feeling a bit too aroused, he will quickly pull out from your mouth at the feeling of his seed being released, and come all over your precious lips, chin, neck, and chest. The sight of his own cum dripping from your chin and neck, some sticky drops falling to your tits, is enough to make him feel proud of himself. You’re all his.
: ̗̀➛ And when Jace has to go down on you? Man, he for sure knows how to take your aching pussy. His hands would be harshly gripping your hips, as his plump lips press playful kisses all over your inner thighs, moving upwards until he meets with your wet core.
: ̗̀➛ There, he would sweetly place kisses all over your moist folds, working up until he meets your glistening clit. He would then carefully rub the rim of it, and slowly work his way in to meet your throbbing core. His tongue would flick against that sensitive spot, and then he would move his mouth back towards your entrance, where he would suckle at your slit, selfishly drinking from your dripping slick while he eagerly fingerfucks you.
: ̗̀➛ It’s just as if Jace knew exactly how you like to be treated; pampering each bit of your sensible core with such fervent adoration. Jace does it like nobody else does, and you can go down on him like nobody else as well. You’re the perfect match.
: ̗̀➛ The eldest Velaryon Prince would also absolutely adore having you riding him. Especially because you tease him by telling him that you’re finally learning on how to properly ride a true dragon... And because he likes the way your tits bounce when you’re on top of him. And, of course, the sight of the bruises Jace leaves on your hips after firmly holding you down on him is also a very pleasant one.
: ̗̀➛ Jace knows how to treat you when you’re such a good girl for him, so obedient — and he will be so gentle, loving, and adoring. But when you’re a bit feisty with him, thinking that you can misbehave around him, Jace will never doubt on having you laid all across his lap, harshly spanking your ass until your flesh is red and swollen, occasionally rubbing his palm across your aching cunt teasingly.
: ̗̀➛ And when you accept your punishment, his pulsating cock would fill you up so delightfully. Pounding violently in and out of you continously, making sure his cock hits deeply against your G spot just to have you shaking, whining, and whimpering under him. Seven Hells, the way you moan his name in that ruined state is so, so pretty. And Jacaerys would cum several times inside of you, to the point you would feel comfortingly and overwhelmingly warm, until his hot semen is oozing out of your abused pussy, dripping down your inner thighs.
: ̗̀➛ I think Jace would pretty much be up to anything. Want to be tied to the bed while he fucks you and you can’t do anything about it? Sure, he will do as you please. Want to be choked? Okay! Jace will be happy to oblige. Want to be tendered softly, and fucked with love and adoration as he praises you in between kisses? Say no more. Jacaerys absolutely adores you, and that’s an understatement.
: ̗̀➛ Your sex life will be pretty much open to anything, and of course, his only focus will be in making you feel satisfied, comfortable, and loved. Jace would never do anything to get hurt you or make you uncomfy. 💗
♡ taglist : ♡
@damatheirin @jacesvelaryons @jjamieberry @anemicroyalcore @countsmoon @capellaadara @kyuupidwrites @tchatso @tasty-nutella @mstxdes @valeriecash @cookielovesbook-akie @zzz000eee @bellarkeselection @visenya-reigned @maria699669 @hopelesswritergall @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @sweethoneyblossom1 @jamiemydeer @snowprincesa1
#jacaerys velaryon smut#jacaerys velaryon x reader#jacaerys x reader#jacaerys velaryon x reader smut#jace velaryon x reader#jace velaryon x reader smut#hotd x reader#hotd x reader smut#house of the dragon x reader#house of the dragon x reader smut#hotd smut#house of the dragon smut#hotd headcanon#hotd headcanons#house of the dragon headcanons#house of the dragon headcanon
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MASQUERADE 3: Amber
Pairing: Suguru Geto x Reader
Masquerade | Masquerade 2 | Masquerade 3 | +
Genre: Angst
tags/cw: angst, royal au, forced marriage, cheating, drama, emotional turmoil, power imbalance, manipulation
word count: 6k
a/n: i cannot tag some users :((
If you’re coming for Aika’s heart, then it’s only fair that he comes for yours.
“Y/N!” All eyes darted to the gigantic doors of the castle as it slammed open. The royal guards almost took stance when they heard the noise. Some maids were frozen in place, while others scuffled, whispering to their fellow workers as the Prince shouted the Queen’s name. It was truly a scene to gossip about. Everybody wondered what the Queen did this time when the captive burst through the door, cursing her name.
“Y/N!” Your head whipped to the door, brows furrowed and eyes wide at the sound of commotion on the other side of the walls, surrounding your room. Although it can easily hide and muffle the sounds of your cries, it can never hide the radiating range from your husband’s calls as he storms up the stairs and banging on your door.
The wood was hard, but his fists were determined to break down anything that stops him from getting to you—the reason his Princess and their relationship were deteriorating. It was nothing new, nothing surprising after everything that you have done against them. Suguru knows that giving up was not in your choices when you chose to continue the relationship after he told you about his plans for him and Aika: every other night meetings, a whole week with her during his vacation period, a secured and private path for their rendezvous in the woods where no one will see them.
Basically continuing his life with her. And you agreed, even if it meant slowly dying inside.
Now, after he left you bare and cold, he’s back with his range. All that you know was that he left to check on his Princess while you stood in the middle of that room alone. Slowly crumbling to pieces as you failed to hold on to the last thread of strength in your heart. You sniveled, lips quivering as you tried to stop your cries. Standing up, you quickly walked to the door as you pitifully wiped away your tears. You don’t want to acknowledge that you’re scared.
“You might need to let him go, my Queen. This country won’t stand strong if they see you in this pain.” You remembered your lady-in-waiting’s words.
This is where your fear stems from. By the sound of his voice, you’re scared that he might say something that would really force you to let him go and even in the middle of all this, that’s the last thing you want to do. You want to hold on until your physical body gives up, maybe then he’ll learn to love you.
You turned the doorknob, opening it gently, but that was soon broken by Suguru’s harsh hand. Pushing at the door before slamming it in his guard's face as he glowered at you with all the hatred in his heart. It was only about a few hours ago that he was staring at you with dark, desiring eyes, filled with want and need. It was only about a few hours ago, that his hands, his lips, and mouth, were gently caressing your body.
He left here when you can see a quarter of the sun from the horizon. Now, it’s gone. Now, it’s totally gone. Nothing but darkness walks the ground of the kingdom and creeps up the walls. Now, it’s totally gone, and the Suguru that you saw a few hours ago has nothing but darkness in his eyes.
All the love and affection that you’ve been craving all these months of being his wife was totally, painfully gone.
The dried tears in your eyes and on your cheek felt like it was stretching your skin, wanting to tear it off. You looked up at him, waiting for him to explain what made him barge in the way he did, and why he was looking at you the way he is doing right now, but nothing came. He just stood there, breathing hard and his jaw tightly clenched. You can almost feel the friction in your own teeth as he scowled at you.
“H-how is Princess Aika? How come you're back too early—” Your words were abruptly cut off by his gritted voice, strained and heavy with exhaustion from the long journey. “You really ought to know.” He snapped, bitterness prominent in his voice as he took a step closer to you. Naturally, you stepped back with your brows furrowed. Your throat felt dry, and his words got your thoughts into a braided twist.
“What do you mean? I heard she collapsed, so I—” Once again, he interrupted your words, making you flinch—not by the sharpness of his voice but the harshness of his words. “Has your disciple not told you yet?” He smirked mockingly at you, undoing the first two buttons of his shirt as if desperately needing to cool down before he said something harsh that could put you and him in an irreversible place. But it wasn’t of help at all as he continuously spilled his heart and mind, his rage and frustrations from all the troubles that you put him and his lover through.
If you’re coming for Aika’s heart, then it’s only fair that he comes for yours.
“Did you think killing her off would open up a space for you in my heart?” Your chest felt heavy with each word that came out of his mouth. Suddenly, thoughts of the things that could’ve happened to the Princess, your cousin, were thrown out of the window. Questions of why’s and how’s you’re being blamed slowly made their way out of your head, and now all you could think about was how futile all your tries to get his love were.
“Y/N, even if I lost everything dear to my heart, none of those spaces will ever suit you.” Your hand was frozen, shaking, and numb from the coldness of his words. You’re pretty sure it would’ve reached up to rub your chest to attempt to soothe the searing pain flowing in your every vein. “Get that through the stones of your crown and your thick skull.” He hissed through his tightly clenched teeth, pointing a finger at your forehead.
You stood there, unmoving, letting your mind and heart absorb his words. They were knives, cutting you all over your body. They were daggers, piercing through your heart and twisting themselves to your very body to incapacitate you. You thought being left hanging was already painful. You didn’t think you’d end up hurting more when he came back, openly spitting out his resentment towards you. Further proving that whatever happened earlier was only as shallow as the flesh.
The wind blew on the curtains through your open window, caressing your back and dancing on your hair as you stared up at him with tear-filled eyes. You didn’t blink, you don’t want to let them fall. Because you know that the moment you feel their warm wetness on your cheek, the ice from his disdain will melt, and you’ll end up feeling more of his less. You looked down, watching as the droplets fell on the dark carpet underneath your bare feet and his shoe.
“I have no idea what you are talking about, Suguru.” Your voice was a broken whisper, turning around and finally letting your hand reach for the falling tears. “I am unaware of the accusations you are throwing at me.” You’re starting to break as you walked towards your vanity, grabbing a hairbrush and avoiding his glare at you through the mirror. “Whatever happened to Princess Aika is not one of my deeds. I simply wanted to know if my cousin was fine—” You were halted when Suguru clicked his tongue, closing his eyes in annoyance.
“Tell your dog to lift the curse, or I shall find her.” He held his head high, looking you down. His Adam’s apple bobbed up ad down as he swallowed. His eyes were stern, much like his words, as if he was so sure it was you who commanded the evil act. Opening your mouth, you turned to him, but before you could even speak, he already beat you to it.
“Nobody would hate Aika more than you. Nobody would hate the woman their husband love, more than a desperate wife.” Your lips quivered, tears continuously brimming your eyes as you watched him look away from you, turning his back to stare at his shadow on the wall. “Nobody knows about Aika and me as much as you do, much less where we meet.” Your eyes softened as his voice did, coming to a realization at how cruelly he was talking to you. “Who else would…who else would…” He panted, licking his lips as he closed his eyes to calm himself.
“It’s not me…” You croaked, feeling defeated, not really expecting your husband to believe it. If he’s this disoriented, then it must be worse than what you’re thinking. Swallowing the broken shards of your heart, you asked, “Could she be…expecting?” Suguru paused before shaking his head, sure that that wasn’t the case. “An enchanter was with her, a doctor was with her. Aika is not with a child.” He turned to you again, composed this time as he took in your form.
You were trying so hard not to cry, to break down and tell him you didn’t know a thing about what’s going on, but you’re too afraid to meet his gaze. You lost all strength when he left, his accusations squeezed you dry, and now you just want to lock yourself up in this room and cry til your tears turn to blood, probably ending you for good. Apart from saying that you cursed his beloved, everything he said was close to the truth. It only made sense that you’ll be his first suspect if something happens to Aika.
“I shouldn’t have accused you like that but…” He breathed, sitting on the edge of the bed. The image of how he sits now was much different than how he was positioned earlier; greatly contrasting, if anything. “The enchanter said it was done on your account. And I was scared. Aika isn’t well. She’s far from well and we…we’re being forced to separate.” You stood there, perplexed, as you tried to think of any enchantresses you might know, but there are none.
“Be honest with me. I’ll figure something out to make this work out for all of us but don’t do this to Aika. She did nothing but love.” He almost sounded like he was begging, yet you can’t help but feel sour for his last sentence. She did nothing but love, your hand reached for your collar bones as you locked eyes with him. You did nothing but love too, but what did you get?
“It’s not me, Suguru. I have no idea about whom it could be, but it is not me.” You sat back down on the ribboned vanity stool, feeling your knees starting to give out. You watched him sigh, face contorted with a worry you’ve never seen before, and you wondered if he’d get like this too if you were in Aika’s place. His hand ran a hand through his hair, grunting as he stood up before halting his steps to turn to you.
“I’m trying to trust you, Y/N. Please, do not stoop so low.” With that, he exited your room, once again leaving you stripped.
This time, not of your clothes, but your dignity, your honor, and peace of mind. He stripped you of your right to love him on your own with no consequences.
—--------------------------------------------
“The pages will continue their training, I’ll be stepping in for the officials who are leaving. They’ll try to get back as soon as possible, but I assure you, my Queen, the Kingdom will continue to be safe even in their absence.” Kento assured as the gears get loaded into the carriage. Suguru made a decision to perform a search in the farther end of the woods, an unexplored area, to look for the enchantress. They have no clear leads, but the enchanter said that the culprit is not far outside the Kingdom’s safe grounds.
Suguru stepped in front of him, locking eyes with you as he picked up something behind you. “It’s only for two weeks.” He rasped, watching Kento hung his head low, stepping back in respect. He should be the one assuring you. But the connection between the two of you only deteriorated ever since the night he confronted you. He apologized, but he’s aware that those words aren’t easy to erase, especially for someone with your wits.
You know that he somewhat carry a hint of honesty with what he said. You’ve been absent to some court meetings, and they were days when your heart was too heavy to carry. This situation carries such an uncertainty to it that makes you scared of the future. Maybe this is where this circus show will end. Maybe after they fix this, Suguru will leave the Kingdom for good, and elope with Aika somewhere outside your territory where no one will quickly recognize them. Maybe you’ll be stepping down, left alone, like how you were when you were younger.
Maybe this is where you’ll have to give everything up just so you could give back everything you took away from them.
You weren’t even made aware of the plan until today, as per Suguru’s request. If you denied him, it would only come out as a confirmation for his suspicions, and that’s the last thing you want. You weren’t given a choice but to agree just to prove your innocence to your husband. Some men aren’t aware of the whole purpose of the expedition. Just that they’re supposed to let the Prince interrogate each enchanter and enchantresses they come across.
Suguru looked up from the yard to the small window at the back of your room. As a childhood friend, he hated that he has to accuse you of something like this. But it was like he was left with no choice. You already did something as cruel as forcing a marriage with him, taking him away from Aika despite knowing of their relationship. He couldn’t bring himself to excuse and exempt you of speculations and doubts.
Setting his mind on Aika’s cure, he pushed his thoughts of you aside. Once he finds the culprit for her pain, he promised himself that he won’t let his emotions get ahead of him and instead go immediately for what he can do to heal her. There’s nothing more important than seeing his Princess alive and smiling again. Suguru’s ready to sacrifice anything, even anyone, if it is required for Aika’s life.
After a week of journey, a letter was sent to them through the Central Palace’s skilled courier. This letter was probably sent a few days ago and only reached them now due to how deep they got into this uncharted territory. As much as he wants to hear from the Southern Palace about the Princess, his mind won’t let him think peaceful thoughts. It scares him that when something comes from them, it’ll only be bad news.
Opening the letter, he spotted that it was from Kento. He assumed that it was about the knights and the pages’ progress or needs, but that was not the case. Suguru found himself frowning, brows knitted together, as he read how the man wrote about you and your state. He almost called a knight to pen him a letter about what your ladies-in-waiting are so busy about that a Grand Officer is looking after you.
“She caught a fever two days ago, Sir. I suppose from worrying too much. About the troop and the people of the Kingdom.” He mouthed quietly, allowing the overthinking to settle on the top of his head. He blinked away the thoughts of another man looking after you. He pulled at the collar of his clothes.
It wasn’t jealousy. He has no time to be jealous right now in the middle of all that is going on inside his head. He simply thinks that it won’t be such a pleasant sight that a Queen is allowing a man other than her husband to take care of her.
Grabbing a piece of paper, he pulled a pen from his chest pocket. “Where are her ladies-in-waiting?” was the first thing he wrote without second thoughts, “She doesn’t like the taste of water when she’s sick. Tell them to make sure she gets enough.” He added, “Grand Officer Nanami, I appreciate your concern towards my wife, but I need you to focus on the pages. With the new schedule, I want you to ensure that they’re still getting quality education and training.”
Proceeding to write the letter, Suguru tried not to make it so much about you and how he felt like Nanami was overstepping his boundaries. He doesn’t want to be so selfish, leaving his wife to save his lover and not expecting her to look for comfort from someone else. He isn’t stupid, and he won’t be surprised if that’s how you feel. But he knows you too much, and he’s just afraid that in times when your relationship is this brittle, you’ll be swayed by the temporary solace and end up ruining your reputation.
That night, he wondered why you got so sick. He felt bad thinking about how the strain from overthinking was making you weak. On the other hand, he can’t help but feel suspicious that of all times, you choose to be sick right now that he’s on a search mission. It might sound cruel, but not even you can make him abandon this mission to save Aika.
The second week was intense. Wild animals have started appearing in the woods, and it’s getting more dangerous for Suguru’s men. He’s just grateful that these men trained under him so, Suguru’s very confident with their skills. Today marks the 11th day of their expedition, and he can never be prouder about the fact that his troop remained complete and all intact. Their resources as well-managed, too, so no serious problems are arising.
Earlier this morning, a knight informed him that a house has been discovered deeper into the woods. It was really remote, almost close to the borders, but Suguru didn’t think twice before deciding that the location of the house is where they’re headed. This arduous journey might just come to an end after this and conclude Aika’s misery in the best way possible.
“Remain on guard at all times. This place is extremely unknown to all of us as it is very far from our lands.” Suguru started, turning to his mean as they stood several meters away from the small bungalow. “Stay where you’ve been assigned and remain vigilant.” An Official stepped forward, turning to the men as he let the Prince speak.
“I will be accompanying the Prince. Pay close attention to anything strange, may it be noise or smell.” With that, they went on to knock on the door of the bungalow. Suguru clenched his jaw and balled his fist, saying prayers inside his head as he hoped that this will be their last stop before heading back to the Kingdom. The two of them looked at each other as no one answered the door despite the slow footsteps inside that has stopped a couple of seconds ago.
Another knock gave them nothing. Nobody answered or even moved inside. As if their first knock sent whoever’s inside scuffling and hiding, and now they won’t open the door for the two knights. The Prince was getting impatient, breathing loudly as he tapped his feet on the cold hard ground, covered with leaves. Just as Suguru was about to step forward to knock, the door handle turned. A short woman with strands of white hair looked up at them as she creaked the door ajar.
“I cannot let you in. I’m sick.” The old lady coughed, turning away, but Suguru was observant enough to catch how she glanced at them sharply even as she does so. “You don’t have to entertain us at all. Just answer our questions.” He swallowed his frustration, not having it in him to shout at a poor, old woman’s face, even when she’s obviously rejecting them right away.
“Don’t you recognize the Prince?” His companion spoke, sighing. “I’ll be getting straight to the point because we’ve spent long enough time in the middle of this forest.* Suguru raised his hand a bit to stop the knight from scaring the poor woman further. Having been in service for several years, Suguru knows that he also noticed the woman’s odd behavior toward their appearance.
"Are you the enchantress who placed a curse on Princess Aika of the Southern District?” The Prince knows that it was pointless asking her, because based on her reactions, she seems like she wanted to shut the door on their faces. "No. Please, leave. I need to rest.” As expected, she attempted to close the door, but the knight’s foot was quick to stop. “This is not our Kingdom’s territory so if someone else came to get you, we won’t be able to give you justice.” He spoke, and it was partly true. Aika’s father also sent a small troop to cover some areas that they can’t and make the search faster.
“We’re not the only ones searching for the enchantress. But I can assure you that we only seek answers and do not intend to harm anybody.” Suguru was determined. He doesn’t know where else they would head to or how else to navigate the area if this is still not what they are looking for. He also has a feeling that they’re running out of time. That’s the last thing he wants to happen.
With his words, the old woman held the door open wider, stepping aside to invite them in. Suguru and his companion shared a look, nodding once before entering the small house. The ceiling was low, but it was surprisingly bright despite being a house owned by someone who practices dark magic. The sat on chairs that creak and look like they’d fall apart if a bit more weight was placed on them. There were books on the shelf that were obviously not opened for a long time, in contrast to the blooming and colorful flowers near the window. It was an odd place, and not what they expected for an enchantress.
“Sir, I have to tell you this first before anything else.” She began and Suguru immediately tensed up, eyes going wide as he turned to the woman "It’s true that I did it for the Queen. But a-a woman was involved. She’s the one who told me of the affair. But I cannot tell you who it was.” She fidgeted, swallowing as she looked between Suguru and his companion. Suguru was too shocked to respond quickly, but the other knight was very observant, “There’s no way, you’ll just give out that information, but I assume you’re saying this to save yourself from the blame.” He gave her an accusatory gaze, only to be met with a shake of her head.
“No, Sir. It’s because it was a part of our deal. It can only be known if she herself admits it, but other than that, it won’t come out of my mouth. This is a woman of power. And I am not the only one who can place sceleris in the world.” Her eyes were looking straight at theirs, they were almost completely convinced, but they know not to trust too much. The knight and Suguru once again exchanged looks, letting the enchantress continue. “But I can tell you how to cure the Princess of the South.”
That. More than anything was what Suguru needed to know.
“Tell me, and we’ll leave you alone.” He commanded right away, standing up and standing close to the enchantress, making her breath hitch as she stepped back, afraid. “Tell me.” He repeated, ready to fall on his knees and offer all that he can just to get the answers out of the old woman’s trembling lips. The silence felt so long, and the air he was breathing felt hot and thick in his nose. The moment he hears what Aika needs, they’re bolting out of this shadowed place.
“There’s this stone that she needs to come in contact with. Just a touch would be sufficient to restore her health.” The enchanter, albeit shaking, took a basin with water, allowing the light to illuminate it and reflect the orange gem she was mentioning. There was a curious look on Suguru’s face, mixed with eagerness and worry. He can’t help but feel like it was too easy to be true. “If you’re fooling us, I won’t hesitate to come and chase after you. Even to the ends of the Earth.” He threatened, eyes looking away from the image for a bit to sent daggers to the old woman, a serious threat.
She simply shook her head and breathed onto the water. Suguru’s companion was behind them, standing guard, just in case this old lady pulls a trick on them. “The only reason I’m giving you answers this easily was because none of them will come from me. They all depend on the people involved, and I’m afraid that they’ll be the real challenge to you, Your Royal Highness.” She addressed, eyes filled with an odd combination of worry, remorse, and fear.
“Just tell me how and where to get it.” The Prince’s teeth were clenched so hard that they start to hurt. His jaw felt like jelly with their friction vibration on them each time they grate against one another. “I don’t care how difficult, how hard. Just tell me.” He whispered, feeling the exhaustion of the past several days slowly catching up to him.
“There are only two people who own the Amber. As it was a part of a pact that happened long ago.” She started, struggling to sit up straight and wrap herself in her shabby coat that probably can’t even keep her warm enough. It has tons of patches, and loose threads that could probably tear the whole thing down with a single pull.
“The King of the tribe on the other end of the map.” Suguru gulped, feeling his companion's distress radiate on him. The place was not close. He probably won’t be able to save Aika even if he began his journey now. Other than that, they have no connections to that land, no more. They used to be allies, but after certain events and changes, they fell out, and that pact was considered null now. There’s no way they’d have access to their stone.
“Who holds the other one?” The Prince’s throat felt like sand paper, stinging as he spoke each word. The old woman looked him straight in the eyes, frowning slightly as she breathed deeply, making Suguru’s heartbeat race. He felt like it was something worse than the former. “The Queen has the other one.” Fuck. Suguru spoke in his mind, more out of relief than worry.
“Queen Y/N?” Suguru asked, refusing to succumb to his assumptions. The enchantress nodded, making him feel a little easy about it all. If it was with you, then it shouldn’t be so hard to acquire it. After all, you also wish for Aika to be better. The only thing to be worried about here was the fact that your judgment could be clouded with your desire for him and the inevitable animosity you might feel towards Aika which explains the look on the enchantress’ face before she revealed you.
Not giving Suguru the stone can get Aika out of your way. This is something Suguru hates to think you’d do, but when it dawns on him that you proceeded with your wedding to Suguru despite knowing his status with Aika put enormous doubts in his mind. If it gets to that point where you’d let your cousin die just to have Suguru all to yourself, then he doesn’t know what he’d do anymore. He’ll probably lose his mind, begging you to save Aika.
Panicking, Suguru couldn’t bring himself to ask another question. “Inform everyone we’re leaving.” He turned, heading for the door as he dragged his cape with him, and rushing out the door. He’ll get that stone, he’ll convince you to let him have that stone. He affirmed himself as he watched his knights scramble to their horses as the official announces their plan. Within a few minutes, all of them were heading back to the palace.
—---------------------------------------------
“Did he not write a letter after the one you mentioned?” You asked Nanami as he sat in front of you, setting down his cup. You looked to the horizon, hoping to see their silhouette on the setting sun. It’s been two weeks since they left, and no letters were received by the palace after the one he sent back ten days ago. You were worried about him and everyone. You also sent Aika some fresh fruits and a letter, hoping for her speedy recovery, and were just glad to receive a short one back. You can’t blame them for giving you a cold treatment. You can’t blame them for suspecting you. But for you, it was just enough that right now, Suguru listened to you.
That’s all you ever need, after all; for him to listen to you.
“I think they are very busy with the search. It was an uncharted area. Even for a courier, it might be hard to track, and I believe Prince Suguru considered that.” He comforted you, seeing the glow of the sun shine down on your face. Nanami knows that this whole thing was killing you too. What with watching your husband leave and search for the cure of his lover, and leaving you waiting for two weeks.
“The maids said you’ve developed an unhealthy sleeping habit, Your Majesty, forgive me if this is a bit too much for a knight, but I worry about you, the whole kingdom will worry about you too if they know.” He sighed, taking in the dark circles under your eyes and how your face is starting to look slim from poor diet. “I doubt the Prince would be happy if he found out too, we all know he cares for you more than he lets you know.” You looked down, shaking your head.
“It doesn’t matter, Aika’s having it worse. She doesn’t deserve it.” Your voice sounded raspy, cracking at the end. Nanami can’t understand why Prince Suguru finds it hard to fall for you when you are like this; golden inside and out. He looked away, blocking the inappropriate thoughts. He should not be questioning your relationship with the Prince. He’s not on your level and aside from that, he wasn’t chosen to marry someone when he’s already courting someone else. He is in no place to judge Suguru.
“I know they’ll solve it when they come back. The Prince has never taken on a task and failed.” You nodded, pursing your lips as you looked at the empty space on the wooden coffee table. This is a gift you got from Aika’s parents for your wedding. Intricately carved with small images of two lovers waltzing. You wondered if they had Aika and Suguru in mind when deciding its designs. It made you sick, looking away and back to the horizon,
“Nanami,” You breathed out, tensing in your seat as you braced yourself with your chair's armrests. Nanami followed your gaze, eyes widening as he saw the figures of men in horses, rushing to the palace gates. “They’re back.” With that, you sprung out of your seat, holding the skirt of your dress. “Be careful, Your Majesty.” Nanami tried his best to support you, but you were running downstairs, more worried than excited for your Prince's return.
After all, there was nothing to be excited about. It's not like he was returning for you.
“Are the gates opened?” You asked the maids as you passed by them in the halls, breathing hard as if you were chasing someone. And maybe you are. Maybe you're too scared that this man isn't even with this troop. Maybe you're scared that this man didn’t even come straight home to you. Maybe you’re scared that if you’re too slow, you won’t even catch him before he disappears again.
“Suguru!” You shouted, leaning by the window as relief took over your features when you catch him in his horse, having just entered the palace premises. Quite the contrast with his grim expression, as he looked up at you, getting down from his horse. It wasn’t anger or hate like you expected, but it was definitely something far from the longing that your eyes were screaming to him as you ran to hug his figure.
His arms reached up to the small of your back, turning away his head to signal his men to rest and unpack. “You’re back. How have you been? The maids have a meal prepared, let’s go inside.” Nanami stood by the arch of the back door of the palace, meeting Suguru’s gaze as he ran a hand through your hair. Bowing, he saluted the Commander before turning to leave and check on the other knights.
“I need to talk to you about something, Y/N.” His voice sounded hoarse, like he hasn’t spoken for hours. And maybe he didn’t from how fast his heart was beating you can tell it was days of travel. He got slimmer, his eyes look dull; duller than before. “Just rest for a bit first, look at you. It can wait, I’m always just here.” You checked him, turning his face to the side as your hands caressed his shoulders.
“No, it can’t. Aika’s life won’t wait.” Your hands fell to your sides as tears continuously fell from your eyes. Earlier, they were tears of joy, worry, and care. Now, they’re just tears of a heart slowly breaking more and more as you realize that he really isn’t here for you. “I need the Amber, Y/N.” He continued, shutting his eyes close as he tried to steady himself. He cannot let the fatigue get to him yet.
“What Amber?” Your voice was soft, but there was roughness too. “You know what I’m talking about.” He held your hands, kissing them, but it didn’t help at all. It didn’t sooth you, it didn’t stop your heart from gushing blood. You shook your head, taking a small step back, but he only took one after you, “Please, just this time. Just let me save her. I’ll… I’ll do as you wish. Even an heir, Y/N. If you want me to stop meeting her every other night, I will. Just…” Y/N was too smart to know that half of what he was saying can easily be thrown away if he wanted, but that’s not why she was shaking her head.
“No, I can’t.” Closing her eyes as she turned away, she felt him hug her from behind, pleading with his whole heart, his whole being, more than he did when she decided their marriage. It was an arrow to her already dying soul. She doesn’t know how much more she can take. “Suguru, you don’t understand.” She took his arms off around her, walking away despite his desperation but was quickly halted by his next words.
“Why? You know, the enchantress said it was someone of power who did this to Aika. A woman of power, Y/N.” His voiced cracked, finally getting to his last resort. He hates to say this, but what else can he do or say to make you hear him out? Your back was facing him as your surroundings started to blur, listening to everything he says even as they tear you to shreds, freezing you on your spot.
“This is your chance to prove that it wasn’t you.”
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taglist: @luvsymai @isagivinny @teasore @jeon-blue @prttyrz @moonchele
#angst#geto suguru#geto x reader#jujustu kaisen#suguru geto#jujutsu kaisen angst#jujutsu kaisen x reader#geto angst#suguru geto x reader#getou suguru x reader#getou suguru#jujutsu kaisen suguru
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౨ৎ tender and careful abby who takes care of you to the best of her capabilities when she wakes up one day to find you with hair sticking to your sweaty forehead, constantly sniffling and wiping your nose with an endless stream of tissues, looking at her on the verge of bursting into tears. she knows you hate getting sick. knows that you feel completely useless when you get in that much pain, you can’t move. it takes her over 30 minutes to even get out of bed, each time, when you fall ill. clinging onto her arm, weakly mumbling not to leave into her shoulder, and while she doesn’t want to, she has to, to be able to get everything you need. always leaning down and kissing your forehead, leaving her lips resting against your skin for a couple more seconds, frowning at the obvious rise in temperature on your forehead, blatantly ignoring your whines about her needing to stay away from you for a few days until you get better. simply getting out of bed with a grumbled “you being sick won’t stop me kissing you, now, shut up and wait here” knowing damn well you can’t exactly get up.
౨ৎ tender and careful abby who spends almost a full hour in the kitchen making you some honey tea and soup, soup that she knows you don’t normally eat when you’re not sick, but will eat gracefully when you are. her body moves quickly as she reaches over the counter and grabs one of the lap trays she bought for you the last time you had gotten sick, and carefully places the bowl of hot soup with the tea gently, not scolding herself in the process. something she does quite a lot. eyeing up the candy drawer, abby looked back over at the bedroom door, back to the drawer, and dropped her head between her shoulders slightly. it wasn’t that you weren’t allowed chocolate, you were and abby knew that. but it always made her feel worse because when you got colds, or sick in general, you couldn’t taste the food, and sweet treats like you could, but regardless, your girlfriend shrugged, opened the drawer and snatched a few bars of chocolate, and a bag of candy before placing them on the tray too.
you were still slumped under the covers and blankets when abby appeared in the bedroom. finally. the messy bun she let you do last night, won’t admit she loved it, but you know, now even more messy. strands of hair stuck to her now sweaty forehead, this is what rushing around to make sure her girl has everything does to her.
wiggling her eyebrows at you when she makes her way to the side of the bed, places the tray on the nightstand, and carefully places the back of her hand on your forehead, pulling it away instantly when she feels just how high your temperature has gone up since she left. “s’not good baby, we need to bring it down, yeah?” she mumbled, handing you the mug of tea carefully. “drink that, then eat your soup. i brought you some chocolate, and before you say anything, yes i know you can’t taste it when you’re sick, but it’s there in case” abby trailed off, waving her hands everywhere while you simply giggled behind the mug of honey tea.
“thank you, abs. always taking care of me” you whispered, almost like a secret between you both.
“it’s my job, yeah? and you always take care of me when i get sick. we take care of each other.” the blonde smiled, holding out yet another item towards you.
a damp washcloth.
“what’s this for?” you grumbled, looking at the wet cloth like it personally offended you. taking it from her hands carefully, placing it on your forehead nonetheless, and sniffling quietly.
“for your temperature, you’re too hot” abby laughed like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“you told me that 3 days ago”
“well, you’re hotter today because you’re sick”
“so you’re telling me i’m not hot when i’m not sick?”
“baby, love of my life,” abby paused to laugh again and shake her head at you. “you are always hot”
“even now?”
“yes, even now. very hot, especially with your blocked nose and wheezy coughs. s’cute when you suddenly sound like a cute duck” your girlfriend winked, disappearing into the bathroom before you could blink.
quickly gasping in realization at her choice of words.
“abigail anderson, you did not just refer to my coughing as a duck!”
“i love you!” she laughed from the bathroom.
“yeah, yeah. i love you too” you couldn’t help but smile.
tender and careful abby always being there to take care of you.
#abby anderson x you#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson drabble#abby anderson fluff#abby anderson#abby the last of us#abby x reader#abby anderson tlou2#abby tlou#abby x you
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Only Ours
Pairing: Vampire Matz x F Reader Word Count: 2.4K Genre: Smut 🔞 Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Explicit Activities
Your impossibly persuasive lovers feel the need to remind you where you belong.
a/n: This all came because I read a post from an Atiny (I cant remember who exactly) who said they loved the idea of vampire Matz taking very good care of their blood bag which of course got lodged in my brain and turned into this....So thank her if you find her this is all because of her.
It wasn’t that you wanted to make Hongjoong angry or make Seonghwa worry but it had been so long since you had felt the sun on your skin and you had missed it, but the incident that it had caused was not worth the trouble you had gone to to sneak out without either of them knowing in the first place. You had taken only one of their pages with you for company and help thinking that if you made sure to dress plainly you would easily blend in with the crowds of people that lingered in the city during the day.
“You know you are not allowed out there without us, you know this, those fuckers see you as nothing more than our blood bag and will do whatever it takes to hurt us through hurting you” Hongjoong growled, leaning against your bedroom door frame to watch you with darkness swimming behind his eyes and his fangs caught on his bottom lip. He had kept his distance from you from the moment that Yechan had brought you back inside, blood oozing from the cuts on your arms and face covered in smeared drying blood from the deep laceration under your left eye and split lip. His rage flowed from him in waves filling your room with a heaviness that scared you more than the men who had tried to hurt you. “They could have killed you, do you not even use that brain in your pretty little head?”.
“Joong, stop. Our princess is scared and I’m sure she is sorry” Seonghwa sighed looking at him in a way you knew meant they were speaking to each other in a way that was otherworldly and way beyond your mere human abilities. He turned back to you taking your hand in his carefully to prevent any sort of further injury although you knew he would never cause you pain.
“Is it just wounds to your arms and face, princess? Did they hurt you anywhere else?” His soft dark eyes were swimming with concern as he watched one of the house maids help clean your skin from blood and check you over from where you were perched on the edge of your bed in your underwear. The scratches he could fix, cuts he could heal but if they had touched you he would let Hongjoong murder every man within a 100 mile radius.
“No Hwa, my back is sore and my arms and face that’s all. I swear” you whispered shakily, tears swimming in your eyes with the fear of how they were reacting, it was always Jekyll and Hyde with them, one sweet and loving and one harsh and almost cruel and they would switch roles depending on their whim at the time.
“Hush princess” Seonghwa soothed cupping the side of your face as you sat up to show your back to the maid, you had long shed your embarrassment at being half dressed or even naked in front of the house staff, they never judged you or the wounds that you would occasionally be sporting when they came to serve your meals or help bathe you.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” you whimpered, looking down at your hands as the maid departed the room and Hongjoong slammed the door so hard behind her that it splintered against the frame.
“You will be when I force you to watch me drain that page in front of you” Hongjoong spat coldly striding towards you already pulling the sleeve of his shirt up to get to his wrist, he grabbed your chin roughly with the other hand his eyes piercing through you as he bit into his own wrist and pressed it to your lips forcing you to drink. His grip on you was bruising but you knew that you had to endure it there was no way you could stop him from doing whatever he pleased with you. The bitter metallic liquid slipped down your throat staining your lips as he sharply pulled it away from you again, the wound healing instantly.
“Please don’t hurt him, Joongie” you cried softly, your tears finally spilling down your cheeks in large fat drops “He’s only a child, he didn’t know any better”.
“He did call Sumin, Jinsik and Minjae when he sensed they were in trouble, and managed to get footage of the ones who dared touch her, so he would be worth keeping around” Seonghwa raised his eyebrows at him knowing that Hongjoong was probably not as angry as he was behaving he was more likely just worried and acting up to make his point. Hongjoon made another angry noise from the back of his throat before stalking from the room and slamming that door a second time, this time breaking it from its hinges completely.
You watched your arms as you felt the warmth of Hongjoong’s blood begin to spread throughout your body forcing your skin to knit back together and heal flawlessly leaving not a trace of the injuries that had been there only moments ago.
“How do you feel princess?” Seonghwa asked, his voice laced with softness and love as he pulled you to your feet gently and lowered his head to kiss your cheek.
“I’m scared Joongie hates me” you whined lowly once again looking towards the floor “I’m scared you’re angry with me”.
“Oh princess, I’m angry that anyone would hurt you, I’m sad that you thought you had to sneak away from us but I am not mad at you my love” he explained, chuckling as your head shot up to look at his face you eyes wide and confused “my pretty love” he murmured pressing his lips lightly to yours allowing you to move away if you wanted to, when you didn’t he pulled you into him tilting your head to deepen the kiss. His tongue probed at the seam of your lips to get access to your own, which you gave instantly so he could claim your mouth fully licking into you and massaging your tongue with his. Without warning he picked you up effortlessly, his mouth still attached to yours pressing you against the wall beside your bed. Wrapping your legs around him he pressed his already half hard length against your core making you gasp.
“Hwa” you whimpered breathlessly, as he continued to grind himself against you, his lips now against your throat as you felt his fangs begin to come in and prick against your skin making you shudder in his arms.
“Will you let me?” he groaned, reaching for the satin that separated you from him, tearing it away in a sharp tug, his fingers not waiting for your words before he began rubbing them through your folds to collect your nectar “I know what tasting our blood does to you princess”.
“Please” you begged softly, “please Hwa”. His deep chuckle vibrated through his chest and into you making you press yourself against him further.
“With pleasure princess” his whispered his voice deeper than before as the black that was usually hidden by the brown of his eyes took over, his lips pressed back to your neck this time sinking his teeth into the side of your throat the initial sting washed away by the feeling of him impaling you on his cock. The stretch of your walls as he bottomed out within you making your head spin as he relentlessly began snapping his hips into yours as he drank from you.
“Seonghwa” you moaned loudly, you could do little but claw at him and be enveloped by his scent, the feeling of him surrounding you and filling you was too much for you to keep yourself quiet, his need for you filling your lungs as you breathed him in.
“Looks like you’re having fun” Hongjoong drawled from the doorway stepping over the splintered wood that he had caused earlier. “I thought we were punishing her Seonghwa yet here I find you fucking her senseless”. Seonghwa’s hips stopped as soon as he heard Hongjoongs voice, slowly retracting his teeth from your neck, allowing your blood to trickle from the wounds down your chest and between your still covered breasts.
“You wanted to punish her Hongjoong” Seonghwa grumbled. “I want to remind her who she belongs to” licking the blood that was now staining your bra. He smirked against your skin before slowly moving his hips against languidly thrusting into you just enough to make you sigh with pleasure and annoy his counterpart. You heard Hongjoong click his tongue no doubt rolling his eyes as Seonghwa as he continued to keep you unable to focus on them properly too and more concerned with the cock that was filling you so well.
“And who does she belong to Seonghwa?” Hongjoong’s honeyed voice filled your ears as you tried to look past Seonghwa towards him, his blood compelling you to be near him.
“Me and of course you” Seonghwa wrinkled his nose moving you away from the wall but keeping his cock buried deeply inside you. He lowered you to the bed finally pulling his length from you making you pout and whine quietly.
“Lay down Hwa, let me see her ride you” Hongjoong instructed casually knowing that you would follow his every command, Seonghwa nodded and undressed himself laying in the middle of your bed his hard length wet and leaking from how hard he had already been fucking you. Hongjoong took your chin in his fingers, kissing you sensually “Up you get princess, ride Hwa for me, show me how much you love his cock inside you”.
You crawled over Seonghwa without hesitation lowering yourself down on him slowly, giving Hongjoong a little show of you taking each and every inch of Seonghwa’s cock mewling as you seated your hips flush against his. Planting your hands on his abs to steady yourself you began to move slowly rolling your hips to adjust to him again making sure you got the angle just right so that when he inevitably took over from you he would be hitting exactly where you needed him. Too lost in the soft grunts and breathy moans that Seonghwa was making you didn’t even notice that Hongjoong had begun undressing of that he was watching just how wet you were from his spot behind you on the bed until his fingers began stroking your glistening folds around where you were already stretching around Seonghwa.
“Joongie” you gasped unsure what he was planning “I…” Seonghwa cut you off by kissing you against his tongue tangling with yours as Hongjoong lapped at the drying blood on your neck.
“Let us have you baby” Hongjoong purred, while you continued to ride Seonghwa at the lazy pace he had started when Hongjoong entered the room, you couldn’t see whatever they were communicating to each other but when Seonghwa slowly pulled out of you, you couldn’t help the whimpered protest that left your throat leaving them both smirking at your neediness. “Don’t worry princess, you can have him back in just a second”.
The two sets of hands that moved you exactly where they wanted were careful despite their obvious strength positioned you on your knees straddling Seonghwa’s lap letting you enthusiastically sink back down on his cock making you groan softly his lips finding your throat where he had previously drank from you, sinking his fangs back in and making you arch your back in pleasure.
“Good girl princess” Hongjoong muttered against the other side of your throat forward, your brain was still too hazy to register that Hongjoong was positioning himself behind you, his throbbing tip pressed against you but as he pushed himself against your already stretched entrance his sunk his own teeth into you causing you to cry out as the pair of them stretched you open so far that the pain mixed with the pleasure of having them both inside you. Moving slowly they felt your muscles loosen up slightly the more they drank your body reacting to them exactly how they wanted. Hongjoong started snapping his hips harder, forcing you to bounce on Seonghwa as he held your hips still tightly, his fingertips no doubt leaving marks in your flesh. Seonghwa was longer, the tip of his cock almost kissing your cervix, while Hongjoong was thicker and angled himself perfectly to catch against the mushroom tip of Seonghwa to press perfectly against the spot that made you see stars.
“Fuck princess, so good” Songhhwa moaned loudly finally pulling his mouth from you to kiss you again.
“Hwa, Hwa, fuck Joongie” you cried their names the only thing you could really remember as each vein and ridge of there cocks slid against your fluttering walls.
“That’s it my love, take us both in that tight little hole” he smirked watching your eyes roll back in your head feeling another wave of your slick coated his cock and dripping out of you.
“Joongie” you sobbed as he thrust his harder against your arse as you felt the knot building in your core start to unravel “Joongie…ahh…agh”.
“You going to cum on our cocks baby? Sucking us in so deep, need us to fill you up? ” Hongjoong grinned devilishly against you, licking the blood flowing from your punctured neck. Your vision started to go dark as you felt molten fire fill your veins as you unraveled around them. You screamed helplessly before slumping against Seonghwa’s chest, feeling them both begin to thrust desperately into your abused hole.
“Fuck” Seonghwa growled deeply the sound reverberating through his chest and into yours as you felt him flood your walls with his seed sloppily continuing to move his hips to ride out his own pleasure.
“Shit” Hongjoong roared following the pair of you into his own orgasm, thick ropes of his own cum filling you and dripping out of you as you panted between their sweat covered chests.
Painfully slowly Hongjoong pulled himself from you and took you in his arms, helping you from Seonghwa’s lap and allowing you to lay bonelessly against the sheets. Brushing the hair from your forehead as he kissed you chastely.
“Here princess” Seonghwa whispered, placing something wet against your lips, you opened your mouth obediently allowing his blood to coat your tongue “We were a little too hard on you my love”. Your eyes came back into focus to see them both looking sheepish with bloodstains smeared across their chests.
“What happened?” you blinked confused concern spiking in your heart.
“Shhh princess” Hongjoong murmured, motioning for Seonghwa to join in your cuddling “We may have drained you a little too much, we will have to feed you over the next few hours to make sure you don’t get sick baby”.
“Love you Hongjoong, Love you Seonghwa” you mumbled, closing your eyes again and enjoying their embrace until you couldn’t keep yourself from falling asleep.
a/n: Thank you for reading my loves and thank you for all your likes, reblogs, comments and encouragement. I love you all to bits xx
Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz @armystay89 @damnyouficc @roamingpolar
@tara-skyhold @bakedlilgoonie @krishastumblernow , @mrsseals16
@fawnpeaks @leeknowinggg @uno7 @tanzen-ist-gold
#kim hongjoong x reader#park seonghwa x reader#matz x reader#hongjoong x reader#seonghwa x reader#ateez fanfic#ateez fic#ateez smut#hongjoong smut#hongjoong fic#hongjoong fanfic#hongjoong hard thoughts#seonghwa fanfic#seonghwa smut#seonghwa hard thoughts#seonghwa scenarios#seonghwa hard hours#hongjoong hard hours#hongjoong scenarios#hongjoong imagines#ateez hard hours#ateez hard thoughts#matz smut#vampire matz#ateez matz
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Safety Captain (1)
lifeguard!Steve Rogers x vacationer!Reader (see series)
Summary: A very sexy man shows up at a very unsexy moment during your vacation.
Warnings for mild language, other guests being as thirsty as Reader, and a vague injury/danger. WC 1945
Written for @bigtreefest's Summer Lovin' 300 follower celebration (I'm very late tho 🥲), using the prompts “it hurts when I ___” “then stop doing that” and pool/resort/hotel. There will be a few small parts to this with eventual smut; this is just the meet-cute sorta.
If you consider drowning a peaceful and relaxing experience, then your trip’s going splendidly.
Water hitting your lungs stings much worse than sunscreen in your eyes, but the shock makes you gasp anyway. Your skin feels pressure everywhere. You don’t know which way is up. The world is bright and blue and shimmering until an arm encircles and yanks you backward by your chest—your bare chest, you realize, since the cups on your bathing suit top flipped when you hit the the pool at such a steep angle.
Once at the surface, a gift and a curse greets you, garbled hum replaced by a solid slap of screaming, the blare of whistles. Light burns, water burns, air burns.
Oh yes, this is going swimmingly.
You struggle to get enough fresh hell anyway, coughing out water, air stinging worse. Your limbs contract to fight the pain, but the wall of muscle behind you is unyielding.
“Out of the way,” a deep voice shouts close to your ear. “Buck, make me some room. Get them back.”
He—whoever he is holding you so firmly and safely—moves you to the shallow end’s stairs with heaving strokes, and just when he releases your body to lift you out of the water, he quickly flicks the front of your suit back into place.
Bless you, kind sir. You’re in love…
…or maybe that’s the hypoxia.
Unceremoniously hauled to solid ground, you continue to sputter.
“It’s alright. I got ya. Breathe for me. That’s good.”
Your sunglasses are gone, so you squint up in his shadow to see nothing but a halo of dripping gold hair. Then your eyes adjust. You see him.
Suddenly, the world is bright and blue and shimmering again, all contained in the stare of your sweet savior.
When he smiles, well, you need even more air to recover.
You’re on your side until he’s sure all the water is out of you, until his hands help you sit up, looky-lous everywhere being herded farther off by two more lifeguards and some resort security.
“The boys…” you rasp out.
“Everyone’s okay,” he rushes, rubbing your back, warm and slick against your wet skin. “You don’t have to talk yet. Take it easy.”
You still feel compelled to explain.
“The—they were teasing him—“ you point to the chubbier kid in your group, the poor thing cowering by your lounge chair headquarters for the morning “—and I tried to stop them.”
“I know, shhh, I saw. Just breathe slowly.”
“Don’t like bullies,” you cough out anyway.
The lifeguard at your side grins from ear to ear, quickly interrupted by a girl shoving your sunglasses in his face.
“I found these,” she announces, elated. “I thought it was important since you were so brave, saving someone who fell in.”
You didn’t fall; you were pushed. There’s a difference.
The lifeguard’s smile turns tight, but he gestures for the girl to hand them over to their rightful owner. She continues to stare with huge, bambi eyes.
Politely, he takes them from her and clears of his throat.
“Thank you. Now step back please.”
Her disappointment is palpable before his blue gaze returns to you. As he asks if you’re ready to move, his palm lands on your lower back and stays there supportively.
The best you can do is shift your legs beneath each other and then hiss, “it hurts when I put weight on this leg. I think I twisted my ankle on the way down.”
“Then stop doing that,” he chuckles, swooping to get his arms under you and carry you to your lounger—the right one, immediately, as if he saw the boys fighting but knew exactly where you were before then, too.
The stout little thirteen-year-old who’d been picked on steps up to you with guilty eyes. He’s one of your charges today while the other adults all drink at the swim-up bar.
“I’m sorry they—“
“It’s fine,” you croak.
“—but they wouldn’t stop, and I told them to—“
“Hey, hey,” your lifeguard whispers, deflating the boy’s panic, “she’s gonna be okay. Just a little banged up, but we got the best of the best coming to help.”
Shamefully, the boy’s eyes turn down. “Sorry they called you a ‘bitch.’”
Great. Yeah. That needed to be repeated.
“Don’t worry about it. Can you go grab your cousin and—“ a brief wheeze overtakes you “—the girls and bring everyone back here so I know where you all are? Just a real quick check-in.”
He nods and runs off, almost plowing into a woman heading straight for you.
“Ah, your nurse has arrived.” The handsome, dripping wet man sitting with a hand still on your knee beams. “The best of the best, as promised.”
The older blonde lady purses her lips and rolls her eyes, ticking her head to the side. “Scoot, Steven. Let me have a look.”
He—Steven, apparently—rambles off what happened and what you mentioned hurt, standing out of the blonde’s way, but leaning over her shoulder, hovering while she manipulates your ankle.
“Thank you, darling.” She looks up pointedly. “I’ve got it from here,” she says, turning back to you. “I’m Sarah, dear. We’ll get you fixed up in no time.”
“I’m Steve,” your lifeguard interjects as he backs away. “Glad you’re alright, Miss…?”
You introduce yourself in return. “Thanks for…um…” You glance down and tug at the front of your swim suit, remembering that this man might have already seen and touched your breasts. “Thank you,” you finish weakly, voice hoarse.
Steve beams again before Sarah swats him away.
While she wraps your ankle and anchors a bag of ice to it, you scan the guard towers to realize all three of the guys on duty are ripped, but Steve is…well, he’s something else.
“God, he’s gorgeous,” you sigh aloud without realizing.
Sarah snorts, muttering, “he gets that a lot.”
You smile, thinking it’s probably no secret that the cute guy gets around. “Bit of a man whore, is he?” you joke.
The nurse looks up at you sternly. “I should hope not! I raised him better than that.”
Shit.
Your face drops, a harsh and painful swallow globs down your throat, and you…just objectified that poor man to his mother who he so sweetly called ‘the best of the best.’
Is drowning totally off the table, or can you revisit that?
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—I—I just meant—“
She squeezes your hand, putting you out of your misery.
“It’s fine, dear. He is handsome, and I suppose there’s no harm in looking.” She packs away the last of her gear only to catch Steve’s eye across the pool.
He waves in your direction.
Sarah chuckles but doesn’t wave back. You put a quick hand up and mouth ‘thank you’ even though he probably can’t see that part.
“Well,” the nurse adds, “seems you aren’t the only one looking.”
Having one foot twice the size of the other can work. You can make it work. You’ll just camp out on a beach towel farther up the shore, no problem. The whole party is together today, day three of seven, so the good news is that you aren’t responsible for anyone. Also, your foot is only that size due to bandaging and not because it’s that swollen. Still hurts though.
In addition to a wicked limp, you need a relatively hard surface to sit on or stand up from. You end up on the rim of damp sand, wriggling to get comfortable. You try laying on your side, propped up on a bent arm. You try your stomach. You’re about try your back, reaching for one of the kids’ towels to roll up as a pillow when you notice a group playing volleyball.
Must be fun to, like, walk and stuff.
You sigh.
It’s fine. You are lucky enough to be on this trip in the first place, your ticket paid for by all the parents combined (with the agreement you’ll help wrangle the younglings for periods while the moms and dads do adult activities). The ‘job’ is a wildly fair trade since the families only split so far was the pool yesterday.
Is that…is one of the volleyball players waving at you?
You look over your shoulder, but there’s only the rest of your group, splashing and running through the surf. No one is facing you or the game.
As you turn back, starting to raise your hand, you see the golden glow of the player’s hair and think that sure resembles the lifeguard, Steve, from—
The guy waving at you gets hit, hard, by a spiked ball and stumbles back. Some commotion rumbles through the group, but you can’t hear specifics.
Shit, that is definitely Steve, son of Sarah, employee of the pool, jogging toward you. Are your tits covered?
You awkwardly pull yourself upright, shielding your eyes from the partially-overcast, bright sky, and smile.
“Hey,” Steve chirps, “thought that was you.” He is, again, in naught but board shorts and beauty.
“Yup, living the dream.”
He ignores your sarcasm and asks how your ankle feels (“meh”), if it’s messed with your plans so far (“had to bow out of zip lining this morning”), and if he might be welcome to sit with you for a while.
You blink a few times in shock behind dark sunglasses. “Won���t your friends…?”
He shakes his head, hair falling into his face, and drops down to the sand.
“I don’t see why not,” you say after he’s made himself comfortable.
When the littlest girl from your group comes shrieking over, bucket and scoop in her hands, you’re about to apologize for the interruption, but Steve immediately offers to help her build the castle of a lifetime.
He is sure to warn her to be careful around your foot.
This time, when you mouth ‘thank you,’ he sees it and returns another beaming grin.
Alright, perhaps vacation is looking up.
Steve is…very, very good at strategizing the sandcastle. After the first ‘tower’ goes up, the other kids get involved. Before you know it, the parents are all behind you gushing over how good your friend is with them.
"Handsome, too."
"Lots of energy."
"‘Bout your age, isn’t he?"
They aren’t quiet enough to not be heard which is clearly the point once the mother of bucket girl shouts out that Steve should join you all for dinner.
Oh, sweet holy—
“Not sure I wanna dive into your family time, ma’am,” he says politely, encouraging some water be brought up for the moat they’ve just dug.
“Then you should take our lovely girl here out. Show her more of the island.”
You glare daggers at the other woman who just chimed in.
“I can’t walk,” you bite out. “Where am I gonna go?”
Steve clears his throat to get your attention. “They line food trucks over on the west road until late, and…” his lip pinches to the side “…I can carry you.”
One of the dads darkly drawls, “like a fucking princess,” and you hear a sharp slap from his wife in annoyance.
Steve’s gaze remains locked on yours as the parents erupt in obvious innuendo.
“Could be fun,” he admits, only loud enough for you. “How about it? Getting hungry?”
All you manage is a nod before a bucket of water is tossed on Steve, and he chases the culprit down the beach and into the clear blue sea.
You’ll have to wait until the ‘monster’ is vanquished by the ecstatic children jumping to take down the big, strong man you, apparently, have a date with.
[Next Chapter]
[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]
A/N: Apologies that this isn't the whole dang thing. With how long everything has been taking me to write, I was afraid it wouldn't even be summer anymore, and if there is even a small chance that posting this will light a fire under me to finish, I am willing to try.
#essie’s summer lovin’ 300 follower celebration#summer lovin’ celebration#essie’s 300 follower special#steve rogers fanfiction#steve rogers x reader#lifeguard au#steve rogers fluff#steve rogers fanfic#steve rogers fic#steve rogers x female reader#steve rogers x f!reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers au
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[ DUSK ‘TILL DAWN : 012 ]
“we who bear the burden of the crown do not need to love. you only need to stay here, with me, in power, in greed, in lust – in victory.”
cw. 18+.modern royal au. infidelity. minimal angst. reader is confused with her feelings. toxic characters. toxic relationships. explicit smut. unedited. implied dub-con. smoking. physical violence. sex tapes. reader has a gun and almost uses it.
notes. i wanted the kiyoomi and suna girlies (/gn) to win so here it is! feedbacks / reblogs/ comments are appreciated <3
wc. 12.9k
series masterlist
[ TWELVE ] for you, i would cross the line. i would waste my time, i would lose my mind. they say “she’s gone too far this time.”
You prided yourself in being logical.
There was little to no room for measly emotions when it came to royal affairs. Granted, you had no proper training, but you were raised as a noble, and the rules were clear. Set aside your emotions, always look towards the most plausible solution, and cry about it later – where no one could see. Those were your mother’s words. You held onto them for as long as you remembered, with the exception of making only one grand mistake: proceeding with the marriage after catching your fiancé cheating on you.
But now? Now, you were about to make your next worst decision – letting Kiyoomi walk away.
It wasn’t love, of course. It couldn’t be. The odds simply weren’t in your favor, but couldn’t a Princess hope? You met him first, had him as your last dance on your debut ball. He was the first Prince who ever held your hand, the first Prince to dance with you, and the first – possibly last – who reminded what love could feel like. What love should feel like. It was explosive and angry like fire licking up at your skin, begging, pleading at you to chase after him. Every nerve in your body protested as you watched him take one more step away from you. It’s a mistake, one I’ll regret – Don’t let him go. It screamed at you, its cries desperate to be heard. You didn’t want to be here in the Palace. You didn’t want to return to your shared quarters with Rintaro.
You wanted to go back to Itachiyama – his farmhouse, the castle ruins, riding aimlessly with Astra and Lucy, picking fruits from his garden, and spending hours in his library. You hadn’t even held your end of the promise yet to learn everything about him.
What did Kiyoomi love? What did he look like in his slumber? Does he talk in sleep? Does he steal the blankets? What about his favorite song?
You moved before you could think.
Closing the distance in hurried strides, you grasped the Prince’s elbow. He stiffened under your touch, his eyes unreadable through the dimly-lit hallways. “Your Highness. Wait,” you panted, “Listen… back at Itachiyama–”
“Do you want me?”
Your grip on him faltered. Briefly, you took a step back, but the Prince was having none of it. He easily closed whatever distance you attempted to put between you two, his face hard and eyes burning with passion. With yearning. You never thought a man could look so determined yet hopeless as he did, the picture-perfect image of ardor. His brows pinched together, his lower lip trembling as he sighed. “Do you want me?”
You shook your head.
If only it could be as simple as that.
“It’s wrong, my Prince. We couldn’t… We wouldn’t work out. I only meant to say that I do adore you, and I do not want whatever complicated feelings we have to ruin our friendship,” Lies. Every word uttered from your lips were nothing but measly lies. Kiyoomi could tell too – the hesitation written all over your face said otherwise. “I hope you understand. You and I – we’re impossible.”
You couldn’t tell which one you needed more: for him to deny your worries, or for him to agree that you were right. You figured both would be just as painful.
Kiyoomi’s nostrils flared as you looked away from him, feet shuffling in the other direction already. “Stop. Do not take another step. Don’t you dare,” with a low growl, you were suddenly pulled back against his warm chest. You gasped at the hardness of his body, the warmth of his skin, the tenderness of his touch. His lips were everywhere but the one place you needed it to be – lingering at the curve of your neck, his breaths fanning over your exposed collarbones. It was like he had set you on fire with one touch alone, his firm grip around your waist both eerily intimidating and lustrous. And he must’ve laughed – you weren’t sure anymore. All you knew was that you were completely under Kiyoomi’s mercy, and quite frankly, he could have his way with you as he pleased.
“If you do not choose me…” murmuring, your breath hitched as his lips briefly grazed your skin, making your pulse jump. “You will regret it. You will be unhappy with him.”
I’m already unhappy with him, you wanted to say, but the words died in your mouth.
You’d lost all forms of coherence under Kiyoomi’s spell. Especially in this compromising position, this scandalous way his hand now slowly trailed its way from your abdomen and up to the swells on your chest – Gods, what would any witnesses say? This wasn’t how a Prince held a woman that wasn’t his.
“Your Highness,” you tried to fighting from his grasp, only to fall momentarily back against him when finally, finally, his lips were now leaving marks on your neck. It took all of your willpower to not give in right there, to not sink your fingers in his delicious curls. You had to say no. “I-I think we’ve both had a long night. We should retire to our quarters.”
“I will allow it if it’s my quarters you’ll be sharing.”
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck – your gaze darted around the empty hallway, paranoid.
The lights had been dimmed hours ago, the staff retiring to their rooms, but it was so quiet your breathy moans could echo. Anyone could walk in and see you like this, pleading but not quite begging for the Prince to not stop holding you.
And it was wrong, so deliciously wrong.
“Please,” you closed your eyes, unable to stop yourself from craning your neck to give him access. Above you, Kiyoomi chuckled, the rumbling of his chest deliciously low.
“You should stop lying to yourself, Princess. You do not want him. Whatever attachment you still have for my brother, it is nothing but a pitiful excuse of familiarity. You keep him around because there is no other choice, but you cannot keep lying to yourself. You cannot keep lying to me that you do not feel as I do when I see the way you look at me,” grasping your chin with his much larger hand, Kiyoomi forced you to look into his eyes. Pools of inky depths stared back at you with part frustration, part lust – his skin already flushed with sweat. You couldn’t look away even if the world ended. There was only you and Kiyoomi, with his hand resting on top of your breasts and gently caressing, so light you might’ve thought he wasn’t there.
And you, breathless and reckless, clung to him like he was your last lifeline.
Kiyoomi dipped down. His nose brushed against yours, your breaths mingled before he breathed you in greedily. “I was never a man who had many desires, but you are the greatest of them all. You run through my mind even in my sleep, and you are the first thing I search for when I wake. So do not tell me you do not want me when I know it’s my name you cry out in your sleep.”
Your knees felt impossibly weak.
“What do you want me to do? I’m married. You’re married. Are you forgetting divorce is impossible?” you snapped back, shoving him until his back hit the wall. The painting above him clattered, yet the Prince seemed uncaring, his arms crossed against his chest as you breathed hard. This was preposterous – this could not go any longer. “This would never work. The people would never understand.”
“I do not care what they think.”
“I care what they think! My husband is already cheating on me, and his own people detest him for it. What more if they find out I have taken you as my lover?”
“Then tell me to go,” he whispered, tilting his head back as he stared at you almost defiantly, mockingly. Like he knew you wouldn’t have the courage to actually say it. “Tell me, and I will walk away.”
When Kiyoomi is met with silence, he scoffed. A smirk graced his handsome face before he’s grabbing you by the arm and twisting you, the positions reversed until your back hit the wall. There’s a slight ache pounding at the back of your head, but nothing – absolutely nothing – could tear your attention away from his lips crashing into yours. The kiss is nothing short of avidity. Kiyoomi devoured you like a man starved, molding the shape of his lips into yours while his large hand encompassed the entirety of your face. Thumbs running over your cheek, his imposing frame completely dominated you. Your bodies were now pressed into each other that it became difficult to tell where you began and the Prince ended.
All you knew was Kiyoomi kissed you like he spent most of his nights dreaming about it, sighing and groaning all at once before his tongue fought for dominance.
Pushing his tongue inside your willing lips, he tasted all of you. He spoke the words he struggled to say, the firm grasp on your hip keeping you in place beneath him a clear sign he didn’t want you anywhere but here. But you weren’t leaving. You’d be a fool to walk away now that you finally had a taste of him, and it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.
You wanted more, needed more.
Kissing him back harder, your palms flattened on his chest before you balled his shirt into your fists, uncaring if he’d walk back home flustered and wild. You simply needed him there; you wanted to breathe him in, to have nothing but him as your entire world.
“Stay,” you pleaded in between kisses, letting the Prince maneuver you until your bum landed flat on a table. Uncaring, the Prince swept aside all knick-knacks placed above it when his lips found yours again. And oh, a greedy man he was. Even after kissing you until you were breathless, he still hadn’t had his fill. His tongue danced with yours in this gentle melody only you two could sing, your bodies moving in sync like a choreographed dance. Your hand would wound up to tangle itself in his dark locks, his hands would scramble to undo his breeches, and willingly – wantonly – you would welcome him with all your being. It’s a dance between lovers, a forbidden tune you sang wholeheartedly, accompanied by your high-pitched moans once the Prince had himself buried in you – “Oh. Oh.”
“Who makes you feel good?”
“You, my Prince, it’s you,”
Biting down on your lip to muffle the noises you made, you heard the crescendo of the music. Rising and rising with overwhelming intensity at each note hit, each perfect thrust and drive into you. He hadn’t felt like anyone else. He was thicker and spread you open, impaled on his stiffness while you sat there helplessly to take it all. You felt empowered and weak at the same time, with your legs locking behind his chest as tears rolled down your face from the pleasure of it all, but Kiyoomi showed no signs of stopping.
Heavens, he might not even stop tonight, not when you sucked him in tight and made his breath stutter, his thrusts staggered.
“Kiyoomi,” you cried out, unable to keep quiet any longer. He simply held you carefully, a great contrast to his hips pistoning in and out of you – no, he held you like you were a porcelain doll he feared would break, someone he had to protect and cherish. And his eyes – droopy yet adoring – gazed upon you like you were worth more than any crown. “Oh, you are so…”
His forehead landed on top of yours, his lips minutely brushing against yours for a quick kiss. It’s rushed, frantic, yet intimate in ways you’d never experienced before. For once, sharing bodies with someone didn’t feel like just like sex.
For once, you finally made love with someone.
“Choose me, Princess,” he gritted his teeth, “It was always meant to be me.”
You awoke with a gasp.
Sitting up, your heart pounded in your chest, your skin clammy and drenched with sweat. A scan of your surroundings told you that you were in your room, the empty side of your bed a sign Rintaro kept to his word and left you alone. Closing your eyes, your head dropped down to your palms.
So it had been a dream, after all.
You really allowed Kiyoomi to walk away from you. And one mistake leading into another, you let Rintaro do the same.
Regret churned at your stomach. You could see it perfectly now – the drooping of the Prince’s shoulders, his gaze cast downwards when you bid him farewell. There were still traces of the happiness you felt in Itachiyama lingering on him just as he finally left, ones you were compelled to reach out to before it was too late. But it couldn’t be – you refused to give into your desires when it meant committing a sin. Rintaro didn’t deserve your loyalty, but he was still your husband, and you wouldn’t be able to sleep at night knowing you’d been exactly like him.
In fact, you might be becoming like him with each passing day, and although you would never say it out loud, you understood him better now.
To find someone who could’ve been yours, someone who would’ve made you so happy against all odds, and to not have them at all – it felt like a cruel joke was being played by the Universe.
Is this what Rintaro felt like? Did he feel as if the world was being unusually cruel to him? Did he wonder what he could’ve done to deserve all this? Because those thoughts ran into your head long enough that you gave up on sleep, and rolled out of bed with a heavy heart and – shamefully – aching with need. Snatching your robe from the closet, you tiptoed out of the room. Rintaro was fast asleep in the sofa, his arm shielding his eyes from the lit candles. When he didn’t budge from his spot at you poking around him, you let out a sigh of relief and left the room. Clicking the door shut, you spun around, coming face to face with a wide eyed maid.
“Heavens!” you placed a hand on your chest, and then chuckled as the maid stepped back and bowed. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone would still be around.”
The maid frantically shook her head. She scratched the back of her head as her gaze darted around, seemingly determined to not look you in the eye. “No, Your Highness, it was my fault for startling you. I was reassigned to you just now, you see, and… Uhm, I’m Airi. Prince Shinsuke sent me here.”
Airi… You’d heard that name before.
“Oh! Airi. Yes, of course, I remember you,” you nodded, tying the robe around your waist tighter. “Why are you up this late?” At your question, Airi’s cheeks flushed a deep red before turning away. You smiled to yourself, chuckling under your breath as you gently squeezed her arm. “I understand. You needn’t say anymore.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
“Would you like to accompany me for a walk?” you gestured to the empty hall. Airi nodded, a little too enthusiastic in picking up her skirts. You figured neither of you wanted to stay here any longer where anyone could easily see you.
Turning to the other direction, you headed for the gardens at the outer wing. It was the closest to your shared room with Rintaro, and coincidentally, an infamous shortcut to Belleview’s surrounding gardens. There had been rumors that Belleview was added in the palace grounds as an afterthought years ago – how a sudden need arose to have a separate place for a married couple. It was bizarre, in your opinion, how this long, seemingly endless path would certainly end up right at Kiyoomi’s doorstep if you were patient enough to brave the half hour walk.
Could you?
Would you?
Absentmindedly, you gnawed at your nails. Your Mother would chastise you for the unladylike gesture if she were here, but it was only you and Airi. She wasn’t going to judge, although you didn’t miss the way she glanced at you so often. Curiosity, maybe, but a question imposed her eyes. Deciding to break the silence, you smiled at the dark-haired maid.
“You’re very pretty. I can see why the Prince fell for you.”
Airi stuttered in her steps. “Oh! Thank you, you’re too kind for that, but I doubt it’s because of the way I look. The Prince and I have known each other since we were kids, that’s all. My mother was a maid too before she died. She was the one who helped raise His Highness,” she babbled, grimacing when she realized your patient smile held little to conceal your amusement. “Uhm… If I may be so bold, my Princess, I think you look rather great for someone who has been cheated on.”
Your brows rose. That you hadn’t expected.
“I do?”
“Yes. You look unbothered by it, or at least, you seem to be doing a great job at it,” she offered a polite smile, “Being a royal must come naturally to you as a noblewoman.”
Unable to help it, you chuckled. Oh, how wrong she was.
“Not at all. I haven’t always been this way,” you told her, watching as your surroundings changed from the marble pillars and into the night sky, where the fresh, cold breeze bit at your skin. You were thankful for it – the cold atmosphere was a great contrast to the blooming, colorful flowers.
It somehow reminded you of Kiyoomi’s gardens, and how you probably wouldn’t see it anymore.
The smile on your face disappeared. The ring on your finger grew heavier, and unbeknownst to you, you started spinning it with your thumb. It was curious, truly, how a week was all it took before you completely lost yourself. You couldn’t remember who you were even like before Itachiyama, before Kiyoomi. Or could it be that the past you had never been fulfilled to begin with? What if you were merely a work in progress, and the you in this moment was the real one?
If that was true, then that could only mean two things you would never want to admit out loud.
One: that you weren’t as in love with your husband as you thought if you couldn’t get Kiyoomi out of your mind, or Two: that the traditional saying and belief was right – your last dance would be your fated lover.
And it would make sense, too. Of course, you were happy with Rintaro. Were. You fell in love with him simply because there was no other appropriate reaction. He was the Crown Prince, a man who called on you every single day and learned about your passions until night came. He charmed your parents, loved them as his own, and proudly presented you to his regal family. It was the kind of love little girls were taught to dream about. The kind of love everyone wanted. You couldn’t blame yourself for craving the Prince’s touch, for giving him all your firsts. It seemed only the right thing to do. He courted you, committed to you, loved you as much as he could – it was logical and methodical.
It was one plus one equals two.
But Kiyoomi? It didn’t feel natural, or a step by step process.
It felt all kinds of wrong because you shouldn’t, and all kinds of right because it’s him. It’s the way he smiles at you when he thinks you’re not looking, or how his head is always turned in the other direction to act like he isn’t listening. He isn’t like Rintaro who never takes his gaze off of you – not because he can’t get enough of your beauty, but because he was watching. Rintaro was always watching, analyzing everything you did, crafting his actions and words perfectly to elicit the response he wanted from you.
His brother was the exact opposite.
Kiyoomi always stayed at the walls and blended in with the background. He never attracted any attention to himself, but would devote his entire focus on you simply because he’s entranced. Or you hoped he might. Surely it couldn’t be one-sided.
You felt it too – the frustration ebbing off of him each time you slipped away. You saw with your own eyes the way his face fell when news of your husband’s affair spread.
He didn’t hate his brother for sleeping with his mistress behind your back. He hated Rintaro for ruining a night that should’ve been yours. A night where his touch could linger on yours for a moment longer as you smiled for the cameras. A night where it’d be appropriate for him to look at you like you’re the star of the show – it’s camaraderie, you’d play off – and a night where he might’ve drove you back at the farmhouse and slowly, tenderly, begin with tugging your gloves off before he moved on to your dress.
Gods. You exhaled. You shouldn’t be doing this.
You shouldn’t be thinking about Kiyoomi, his plump lips that looked inviting, his dark eyes hungrily roaming over you and hoping, praying, that it’d been him instead. These were all wrong – so why were you walking towards Belleview?
“Your Highness?”
Airi’s voice snapped you out of your trance. Blinking, you smiled back at her in apology and continued. “Sorry, I must have been lost in my thoughts. As I was saying, though, I spent most of my life hiding behind my parents’ shadows because I struggled talking to people. And then the Crown Prince came and swept me off my feet, which changed everything. When he came into my life, I figured I had to become someone worthy enough to stay by his side, someone he could be proud to be with. It took a lot of years and effort before I could be confident enough to say I was good enough for him,” you mumbled, stopping in your tracks to look up into the dark horizon before you.
Huh. Why hadn’t you realized that before?
You’d been trying so hard to impress Rintaro all along. Isn’t that why you were so frustrated? You’d spent years molding yourself to become who he wanted, only to be slapped in the face that it was impossible because you could never be her.
You let out a dry laugh. “But apparently not. He already had someone else.”
“I’m really sorry you were dragged into this. From the stories Prince Shinsuke tells me, you’re a kind woman who deserved better.”
“I don’t know about that,” you said, “Would you believe me if I said I wasn’t mad upon reading the tabloids about his affair? If anything, I was just furious he couldn’t stay out of trouble and ruined my trip to Itachiyama.”
“Did you like it there?”
“I loved it. I wanted to stay.”
Admitting it out loud felt… liberating. You were beginning to feel more like yourself, even if it meant being less of a Princess and more of this unorthodox woman who simply wanted to be. It must be the side effect of spending time with Kiyoomi. You would soon care less about the rules imposed on you, and unapologetically be yourself.
“But the world sure has a cruel way of bringing you back to reality.”
“Your Highness?”
Both yours and Airi’s head snapped at the sound. Amongst the rustling of the bushes, a tall figure suddenly appeared – all mighty and regal even in his creased blouse and loosely tied breeches. His hair, dark and tousled like he’d run his fingers through it, did little to hide the surprise on his face.
“My Prince,” you breathed out, “What are you doing out here so late?”
“I couldn’t sleep. And you?”
You fought back a smile at his raspy voice. You could almost picture it – Kiyoomi tossing and turning all night in a bed separate from Iris. The sanguine voice in your head fibbed, too, wondering if the Prince thought about you as well. “It’s a restless night,” was all you let on, and gestured to the shock-still maid beside you. “Airi, do you mind giving us some privacy?”
Vehemently, she shook her head. “Not at all, Princess. Please, call for me if you need anything. I won’t be far.”
You waited as Airi disappeared from sight before you stepped closer to the Prince, compelled by an invisible force to be closer to him. “Kiyoomi–”
“Are you well?”
“Me? Why do you ask?”
He tipped his head to the side, causing a lone curl to fall in front of his eye. You fought back the urge to brush it away, beguiled by his long fingers sweeping it away “You’re in a very difficult position right now, whatnot with the article spreading,” he gestured back to the castle, “Has he spoken to you?”
You shook your head. “He’s kept to himself the past few days. I think this is a lot harder on him than it looks. As for me, well… I’ve had better days.”
True to your word, Rintaro almost secluded himself from the world. He shut off his phone, chucked it at another corner of the room, and never touched it again. It was painful seeing your husband that way when you know of his hobby of endless scrolling. But now, he couldn’t stomach the social media wishing him ill, seeing so blatantly with his own eyes his people’s deference to him. It hurt – more so for him than you – but still, a small part of you wished he’d say something. You were there, were you not?
You cut off your trip short because your husband needed you, and he barely uttered a word since you arrived. It got at your nerves. Nevertheless, you’d give him the time he needed. You planned to keep to your word that you would fix this all for him, regardless of what that might take.
You weren’t so cruel to let your husband be dragged into the pits of hell. Because quite frankly, that wasn’t the media’s right to begin with. If anyone would unleash hell upon Rintaro and Iris, it had to be you.
Kiyoomi scanned your face. “You don’t seem upset about all of this.”
You shrugged. “Their secret would’ve gone out one way or another. It was only a matter of time. Besides, I have far, bigger things to worry about, like you,” you leveled your gaze with his, watching as the Prince sucked in a breath.
Your last conversation with him the past night still played in your mind. It ate away at you to have to say goodbye when you didn’t want to, but he was here now. You woldn’t waste the opportunity to make things right.
Steeling yourself, you shut your eyes tight to gather courage. “Kiyoomi… Your Highness. I… I do not wish to stop talking to you. I know I sound absurd because I haven’t known you that long, but everything we shared in Itachiyama, I cherish it. I won’t forget a single memory I shared with you. So please allow me to take back what I said. I didn’t mean it when I said I would stop talking to you.”
“You should, though.” Opening your eyes, your heart dropped into your stomach when the Prince took a step back. “I don’t think we can be friends, Princess.”
Your hands grew cold and clammy.
“W-Why not? Have I done something to offend you? Tell me, and I will correct it–”
“We cannot be friends because I do not wish to be just your friend.”
Whatever distance he created between you disappeared. In the blink of an eye, Kiyoomi had closed the gap in one smooth stride, leaning down close enough his nose nearly brushed yours.
You inhaled sharply at the proximity. Kiyoomi’s heat blanketed you, making you realize you’d been shivering from the cold prior to his arrival. Now, he was here, and your senses were filled to the brim with him – his scent, his warmth, his frame looming over yours making you feel protected instead of small. You couldn’t help it; your fingers twitched to pull him by his collar and finally have his lips pressed to yours. It’d been eating away at you for several nights.
A peck couldn’t hurt.
But you made no move, greedily sharing in the same breaths instead. Because if it was all you could have, then it was all you could get.
“You’re right. It does sound absurd. We have barely spoken to one another, yet I’m already tired of this stupid game my brother is playing – his foolish plans to become King, make my wife his concubine, all with the intention of keeping you around like a pet. It makes my blood boil,” Kiyoomi grinned, though it was more sinister than genuine. “He cannot have everything for himself. I will not let him.”
“My Prince. I–”
“–Don’t get me wrong. I’m not in love with you, nor do I have any intentions of stooping down to Rintaro’s level and stealing what isn’t mine,” cruel, you think, as the Prince effectively cut you off with a brush of his thumb to your lips. You were now putty at his hands; melting and knees weakened with nothing but his touch holding you up. “But I am tired of seeing you this distraught over a man who cannot see your worth. I have had enough. So whatever plans you may have to retaliate, tell me, and I will gladly be a pawn in your game. Make your move. You may command me as you please.”
It took a moment before his words dawned on you. When it did, your palms flattened on his chest, absorbing its warmth and feeling the flutter of his heart underneath your fingertips. He felt so alive, whole, and well – you couldn’t possibly drag him into your mess.
“I could never use you like that. You know this.”
“So you do have a plan in mind,” he noted with a smirk, fingers crawling up to circle your wrist. “My brother really underestimated you, hasn’t he? You’re already proving to be far more dangerous than any sword.”
You flushed warm at his compliment. Pretty, yes, Rintaro has called you that multiple times. Beautiful, gorgeous, even, but dangerous? It made you feel powerful, like the crown was already on your head, and the kingdom was all yours for the taking. But greed often started out as a small flicker of fire, and you stomped on it as quickly as it breathed into life. You were no thrill seeker – you would not dabble or tread in dangerous, unknown, forbidden paths. Such paths like Kiyoomi, but it was there. The temptation. The calling to just reach out to the hand he’s offered.
Its voice beckoned you. Come, it whispered oh-so-sweetly at your ear, he is your puppet.
You bit the inside of your cheek in contemplation. “It isn’t a good plan at all, and the Queen has summoned us – all of us – to inform us of her decisions on how we will proceed with this scandal. There’s a good chance Her Majesty might get in the way, but I’m determined. I need this plan to work.”
“What are you thinking about?”
“I plan on turning the tables around and pinning it on Iris. I know it’s dangerous – she’s your wife, and you might get caught in the crossfire–”
“Do as you please.”
“Are you serious?”
Kiyoomi nodded with resolve. “When I said I do not wish to be just your friend, I meant it. I want you to use me. I want to be your weapon,” nudging his nose with yours, he brought up your hand to his lips, kissing the glimmering diamond on your ring. A kiss of rebellion, a war cry, or a silent plea to be dominated – it said everything and too little all at once. “If there is anything I can do to help you escape this royal hell, I will do it.”
You closed your fist around his lips, and basked in the ghostly flutters it will leave upon your skin hours after he has gone. Then, you questioned it all: how could something so poignant evoke a raging will within you?
“It will be hard for you, Your Highness,” you warned him, “My plan is not a kind one.”
“I do not have very kind thoughts myself,” he chuckled, the sound dark and ominous. “But you should be careful, Princess. Iris is not who you think she is. If you are to proceed with your plan, you need to watch out for yourself, and Maiko especially.”
Maiko? What could Maiko’s involvement with Iris be?
“She won’t hurt Maiko, will she?”
“She wouldn’t dare, but I can’t guarantee she won’t try doing something to you,” with a wary gaze, Kiyoomi immediately masked it with that of indifference. Scanning the surroundings, and hearing nothing but the crickets of insects and the rustling of bushes from the wind, Kiyoomi wrapped a protective arm around your waist. “It’s getting late. Let me walk you back. Iris is probably somewhere close.”
You were never one to feel much fear, but in that moment, a sense of numbing chill settled in your bones. Goosebumps arose on your skin. It was almost like you could feel it – her sharp gaze, her wicked and deceivingly innocent smile. You shivered despite yourself and huddled closer to the Prince, letting him guide you through the garden’s maze when his lips brushed the shell of your ear.
“Do you wish to know what would make Iris tick?”
“What?”
“It may be Rintaro who she wants,” his breathy voice caressed you, sending a different set of shivers down your spine. “But it is I whom she would kill to keep. Present yourself as a threat, make her believe you can steal me from her, and you will find her willingly offering Rintaro to you.”
You scoffed. “And if I don’t want him?”
“Then you shall always have me.”
Kiyoomi, Kiyoomi, Kiyoomi…
The Prince’s last words haunted you. Moreover, the way he looked with the moonlight illuminated upon him… he felt surreal. He came to you in your dreams more than once, caressing you in places he shouldn’t be touching, filling you in ways you never thought possible. A part of you wondered if it was merely your brain coping with the fact you’d mistakenly lain in bed with Rintaro. How you’ve felt disgusted with yourself ever since, and found it hard to look in the mirror. Perhaps it was simply a trick of the brain – replacing the man who left marks on you with the man that could’ve made you feel better. And you knew Prince Kiyoomi would – with those large, calloused hands, and luscious lips you spent countless hours gazing upon… would it be such a sin to wish they hadn’t been dreams only?
Picking up the nearby body wash, you scrubbed yourself clean of Rintaro. Your body still ached from last night’s events, but your heart clenched for an entirely different reason. Seriously. You couldn’t believe it. First, he’d let himself get caught in the action, and you let him sleep with you? You could’ve pushed him away. You could’ve said no.
It didn’t have to lead to whatever happened last night.
But then again, laughing to yourself, why did you chastise yourself so much? He was your husband. You were both married – sleeping with him wasn’t a mistake. Yet why did it feel like it? It felt as if… you kept on letting him take and take from you. How long until you’ve had enough? How much more could you give before there was nothing left of you?
You sighed, sinking deeper under the water. It’d been hours since your previous encounter with the older prince, and he hadn’t left your mind since. His offer for you to make use of him like he was a weapon, or worse, a tool, wasn’t an opportunity you could let pass by.
You could make use of him. He had more access to Iris than you ever could, and planting spies in Belleview Manor sounded terrible. She’d probably won over their loyalty judging by the way they kept their mouths shut that first night you arrived there to give her tea for her ‘headache.’ She had secrets, that you were sure of, but did Kiyoomi know them too? What was her connection with Maiko? Surely… Maiko wasn’t involved in whatever schemes they had in mind. The Princess was too sweet and innocent for that, but then again, so was Iris. The so called ‘dear friend’ of your boyfriend before he’d asked for your hand in marriage.
This was proving to be nearly impossible.
It was hard to tell who to trust within the Palace. Kita would be at your side, but you couldn’t possibly involve him in your plan. He might not even approve of it. It would be against the law, and it wasn’t the kindest thing one could think of. Kita would call it ‘the opposite of justice.’
“I hope the meeting went well, Princess?”
Popping your head from the water, you watched as Airi entered the room, folded towels in her arms. She’d prepared a bath for you long before you arrived, the water warm and filled with bubbles – just how you liked it. The room smelled faintly of roses, too, and you made a mental note to thank Airi for her efforts.
“It was great. His Highness and I discussed a lot,” he almost kissed me, too, but she didn’t need to know that, or the fact you wished he did. “Oh, and Airi.”
“Yes, ma’am?”
You pondered over it, you really did it. It was out of your character to abuse the power you had, yet you couldn’t stop the heat flaring in your veins. The pettiness that begged to be revealed. “Could you have someone call L’Essenxe Royale? Tell them I want them to discontinue their Vanilla Candy line because I’m allergic to it, and it would be a shame if I had to stop purchasing their perfumes.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Airi nodded, stopping in her tracks after a beat. “I wasn’t informed you were allergic to vanilla. I’m sorry, I’ll do better in catering to your needs more.”
“I’m not allergic. I just don’t want to smell Iris ever again.”
Just before Airi could respond, the doors swung open. Suna sauntered in like he owned the place, the top three buttons of his white shirt undone and loose. His collarbones and the top of his chest shone with sweat, his skin flushed and his dark hair messily swept to the sides. He must’ve gone for his early training – and damned him for looking good.
You snorted inwardly. But Prince Kiyoomi probably looked better.
“There you are. I didn’t get to see you before I left.”
“Airi, please give us a moment,” you requested from where you sat, arms lazily resting on the sides of the tub. Airi scurried out of the room with reddened cheeks – no doubt picturing what events could transpire between a naked wife and her insatiable husband. And speaking of said husband, he’d leant against the pristine white walls, arms crossed against his chest as he let those dark, hooded eyes roam over your exposed skin.
“To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“I think the real pleasure here is this view.”
You rolled your eyes. “Is that what you told your mistress too when you fucked her in my bed?”
Suna paused. It was a bait; he was sure of it. Choosing not to bite at your provocation, he pushed his weight off the wall and gestured to the doors. “You redecorated the room,” he announced, “Without my permission.”
“I wasn’t aware I needed your permission. I thought we made it clear – under your suggestion – that I was to sleep in that bed, and you take the couch outside. Technically, that would make it my room, no?”
“You made Airi burn the sheets.”
“Sue me.”
“You threw away Iris’ clothes.”
“They barely counted as clothes, Your Highness. They were just thongs.”
“If this is about last night–”
“Last night was a mistake. Never speak of it again,” you warned, and just the mere reminder that you’d let him have his way with you, and you were too weak to refuse, again, no longer made the relaxing bath enjoyable. All of Airi’s efforts poured down the drain because having Suna around had your muscles stiffening with tension again. Rising from the bath, you wiped off the bubbles and suds off your body before stepping out. “What did you truly come here for? You never bother me when I’m bathing.”
Suna’s hungry gaze followed your every movement. The perverted bastard wasn’t even trying to hide it – his poor attempts of adjusting his breeches a failure once you’d put on your robe. “Her Majesty has summoned us for breakfast. She has an important announcement to make. I suggest you make haste so she won’t be anymore upset with us.”
“With you, you mean,” you waved around your lip balm, “What? Don’t look so offended. I am not the one who caused a scandal here.”
“I’m tired of arguing with you.”
You couldn’t agree more. Smacking your lips together, you walked past him, making sure to sashay your hips as you did. But before you could leave the room, Suna’s hand shot out to wrap it around your wrist. Gently, he pulled you back into him until your breasts brushed with his chest, the dampness of your robe making his shirt stick even harder on his skin.
“Wait,” he breathed out, not once taking his eyes off you as he blindly swiped for a towel. “Let me dry you off properly. It would be a shame if you made a mess on your newly decorated room.”
Your husband fell down on his knees before you could say a word.
You almost asked him what he was doing when his hands tugged at the ties of your robes, his tender touch pushing them past your shoulders until the robe pooled at your feet. You inhaled sharply. Suna was kneeling before you, caressing your leg and urging you to place at his thigh. You don’t know what compelled you to obey, but you did. Resting it on his leg, you felt too exposed – his nose was right at your stomach, his hands touching everywhere but that one place near your heat.
It was torture.
The entire act was done with slow, purposeful motions. Like an artist taking great care with his sculptures, he pressed hard on your hips to keep you in place when you shivered. His strength, his silent gestures that he wouldn’t let you slip and fall – it broke your heart.
Why couldn’t he love you?
Why couldn’t he touch you this way and mean it?
Why did he have to remove his ring?
The glint of the golden material caught your attention from the vanity. You picked it up where he left it last night, unconsciously hugging it to your chest until you fell asleep. Until now, you’d brought it with you, and stared at it hard enough it might’ve melted. It never did, just as he would never belong to you. And then – his finger swiped over your nipple, the cloth on his hands now damp and his breath staggering as he moved to kiss your bare stomach.
You pushed his head away.
Suna stumbled back, barely. He sat there with a dazed expression, the towel he used to dry you with now forgotten. His hands shook in his lap, his eyes blown wide with something you couldn’t quite name – longing, regret, frustration. Whatever it was, it matched yours.
“I’m dry enough,” you told him, snatching off his ring from the counter and flicking it his way. The two of you watched as it stumbled along the ground with a loud clink, clink, clink, before it rolled right at his feet. When you finally found the courage to speak, your voice was so quiet – you couldn’t hear yourself at all. “Wear it. I don’t care that it no longer means anything to you. I won’t have you causing anymore problems for me when your mother asks about it.”
When you and Suna sat next to each other at the dining hall, neither of you spoke a word.
In fact, not a single person present dared to. Her Majesty sat at the head of the table, the clink of her utensil the only thing audible as she furiously cut into her steak. She was furious, that much was obvious. Even Crown Prince Ushijima hadn’t touched his meal, and his young son, barely a boy of eight, had his lips shut the entire time.
Finally, she takes a bite, takes a huge drink of her wine, and slams the glass down. All of you jump at the sound.
“It is not every day we can all be gathered here, but as you are all aware, it is a trifling time for the Crown. We as the royal family need to be united now more than ever,” she announced, her back straight as she looked everyone in the eye. “Which is why I am here to inform everyone of some minor changes we will implement from now on, and some events we have planned for the next season. First of all, Princess–” she pointed her knife your way, “-I need you to hold your mother back. She’s getting on my nerves with all her incessant calling.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” she lifted her chin, “Your Mother hasn’t stopped bugging me ever since that article was released. She demands I return her to you, but I think she forgets her place and yours. You are a Princess now; you are the Crown’s property. You are to stay here and see to your duties until you take your last breath.”
Forcing a smile, you willed yourself to calm down. “My mother was merely concerned, Your Majesty. I’m sure she doesn’t mean any harm.”
“Which is exactly why I’m telling you to tell her to stand down. I have already spoken with my advisors our next course of action and have all decided that we will deny Rintaro and Iris’ affair by all means. We are to pretend as if the article never existed. We need to show we are the Crown, the monarchs and rulers of this grand kingdom. We will not be swayed by measly gossip and defaming rumors.”
“But it wasn’t a rumor. The Crown Prince did sleep with the Princess.”
Her Majesty sighed, the sound dramatically drawn out. “Do you have any complaints, my dear? Because if you did, then you should have attended the meeting this morning.”
You gritted your teeth. “I wasn’t informed there was one.”
“That’s a shame – I thought Rintaro would tell you. It seems he likes to keep his secrets, then,” she jabbed, and your husband nervously sipped his wine as you glared at the sides of his head. “Now, as I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, we planned a few events for this season. For this month, the four of you will be showing up to public events and you are to appear united in marriage. Laugh, kiss, hold hands – I do not care. Just make sure the cameras get it, and if anyone dares ask on any clarifications about the affair, simply tell them that it is very easy to fabricate photographs nowadays. You will deny everything. Understand?”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” agreed Suna, and you scoffed. Snaking his hands under the table, he squeezed yours in assurance and whispered, “Don’t cause a scene in front of the Queen. We will talk later about this.”
“I was hoping we would.”
“Next, Iris and Y/N will be having weekend dates to show they are friends. We have already contacted an orphanage you will pay a visit to. Play with the kids, read storybooks with them, and get as many pictures as possible. Not only will it show that there’s camaraderie between you two, but hanging out with children will also imply that we can expect a next line of heirs soon.”
“A splendid idea!” Atsumu beamed, the first to dig into his meal. Rather, the Prince was halfway finished stuffing his mouth, happily rubbing his hands together at the thought. “This will all be good for the Crown, and to win the people’s trust back.”
“You really don’t know how to shut up, huh?” muttered Osamu.
“Your Majesty. Don’t you think this is going too far?” Tobio spoke up, slamming his hands on the table as he stood up. Beside him, Prince Shinsuke was pleading for him to sit back down. The youngest Prince merely slapped his hands away, looking betrayed by his brother’s words. “Why is no one speaking up? Is this how the royal family really is? You would all lie to your people, deceive them we are all in one heart and mind when we are not. Is that the kind of rulers we aspire to be? Are we really the rulers they look up to?”
Prince Shinsuke pinched the bridge of his nose. “I understand you’re upset, but the throne wouldn’t have lasted this long if none of us pulled some strings and kept up deceiving acts. Trust me, I also do not wish to take a part in this, but Her Majesty is right. The people are already growing restless that we have been without a King for years – having Crown Prince Rintaro’s reputation tarnished will not make this better. And as far as I know, there are still many protests against having an illegitimate child on the throne,” he reminded, causing Prince Ushijima to clear his throat awkwardly. Still, Shinsuke pushed on. “Rintaro is the King the Cabinet wants. We must follow the law. Ushijima can only be crowned King until we have ran out of options.”
Your jaw dropped.
“And what of me?”
“With all due respect, Your Highness, the future of the Kingdom is a heavier matter at hand than your broken heart,” Iris quipped, “Besides, if you knew about our relationship prior to the marriage, then you cannot blame anyone but yourself. You’re in this predicament because you were too cowardly to let go when given the chance.”
“That’s enough!” Tobio yelled. “You all need to stop talking about her like that. You’re all right – the Crown is more important. We need a stable ruler and for the people to not lose their trust in us. But the Princess is still a human. She was lied to, manipulated, and constantly looked down on. The least you can do right now is let her acknowledge her pain, seeing as it is clearly too much for each and every one of you to be decent human beings!”
Her Majesty paid him no mind. Waving her hand in the air dismissively, she sighed. “He is young. He will understand someday.”
At her nonchalance, Tobio’s nostrils flared. It was the last you saw of him before he kicked his chair back, storming out of the hall before everyone erupted into protests. Keiji slunk back into his seat, Shinsuke was immediately making efforts to appease the Queen by apologizing on everyone’s behalf, and Maiko was crying. And you? You glowered at the Queen before following after Tobio, the three other Princes right at your heels.
The doors slammed shut behind you.
You could hear the Princes running after you. Two pairs were rushing, but one pair of footfalls sounded more like stomping. Before you could turn down the hall where Tobio went, you were dragged by, Suna firmly gripping your elbow as he halted you in your tracks.
“Her Majesty was speaking,” he hissed, fingers digging harder to your skin. “Don’t be rude.”
“Oh, fuck off, Rintaro. I can’t believe you right now. Letting me be friends with your mistress? Really? And you didn’t even tell me there was a meeting this morning!”
His free hand ran through his hair. “I didn’t tell you because I knew you would act like this. You would’ve embarrassed me in front of the advisors. Besides, you left before I could–”
“I embarrass you? Do you even hear yourself? You’re the embarrassing one for going behind my back and sleeping with your mistress–”
“She’s not my mistress!”
“Isn’t she? I wasn’t aware there was another word to describe a woman frolicking with a married man!”
His grip grew tighter as he spoke, and you squeaked out in pain. You tried to pry his fingers off of you, but Suna wasn’t having any of it. “You’re one to talk, leaving me here in this country to go around dancing with my brother–” Your husband’s face disappeared before you. In the blink of an eye, he was shoved nearly across the room and falling right at his ass.
Kiyoomi stood protectively over you, his chest rising and falling as he shook with anger.
“Stay away from my wife!”
Meanwhile, Tooru dodged between Suna and Kiyoomi, the former rising on his feet and reeling his arm back in a punch. Tooru effortlessly caught his brother’s arm, but holding him back was a different struggle of itself. “Rin, that’s enough!”
“Are you okay?”
You blinked back from the scene. Kiyoomi was now holding your arm where Suna grabbed you, checking for any injuries. Aside from a little aching, and a possible bruise that would show up tomorrow, you were unharmed. Still, the Prince wasn’t assured. His thick brows pinched together in concern, turning your arm over and over as he muttered to himself the violent things he wished to do to his brother. “Did he hurt you?”
“Not really, but I want to go after Tobio.”
Kiyoomi nodded in understanding. “Go. I’ll handle this.”
You shared a knowing look with him. I’m on your side, his eyes said, and that was enough to reassure you. Giving him a nod, you quickly turned on your heels and ran. You ran and ran until you were out of breath, your corset digging into you uncomfortably. The youngest Prince sure was a fast one – he’d already reached his own study in such a short time.
Peeking through the partially closed door, your heart broke at the sight.
Prince Tobio sat on his painter’s stool, an unfinished portrait of you – smiling in your wedding dress – lay before him. He was crying, sniffling to himself and wiping his tears with the collar of his blouse. Even the sounds of his cries were too painful to hear.
Shutting the door behind you, you took your place behind him, gently squeezing his shoulders to make him look up. When he did, his bloodshot eyes greeted you.
“I’m sorry you had to witness all of that,” you tell him softly, “I didn’t mean to ruin breakfast for you.”
Tobio shook his head. He pulled out a handkerchief before blowing on it, and you smiled despite yourself – he’d grown so much, yet he was still that sweet, naïve boy in your eyes. It felt like a lifetime ago when he had his debut, and now he was flourishing into such a great, young man. Your little brother, the sweetest Prince – you would do anything for him.
“You don’t need to apologize for anything, sis. You’re the victim here.”
You laughed a little. Victim sounded too poor of a word choice. Turning to the canvas before you, you gestured to it. “What are you painting?”
“You,” he admitted with red cheeks, “I started on this when Rintaro announced he’d be marrying you so I could give it as a wedding gift. But Her Majesty wanted me to focus on my studies, so I didn’t have enough time to finish. I mean, it’s not even the same dress you wore on your wedding so it’s inaccurate–”
“-It looks beautiful.”
“It’s still unfinished,” his shoulders slumped in your flattery before he lightened up, already moving to pick up the brushes as he wiped his snot with his hanky. “Since you’re here, would you like me to paint you as you are now? I’ll get a new canvas.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to lose all your efforts on your previous painting.”
“It’s fine,” he reassured, and per his instruction, you sat stiffly to ‘pose’ for him. It’s a little awkward, and Tobio struggled to sketch you each time you fidgeted, but at least he wasn’t crying anymore. Midway through his sketch, though, he placed his pencil down, his eyes brimming with tears again. “I still can’t believe Rintaro was capable of being so cruel. I’ll never forgive him for what he did,” he said, his lower lip quivering. “Are they really like this? Is everyone in the Palace truly so heartless? Will I… never find love of my own, too?”
“Oh, Tobio,” you reached your arms out, crushing him to your chest. The Prince’s tears dampened your dress, though you paid it no mind. He was too young for all this hurt – this war over the crown. He was too good for a cruel place like this. “It will get easier someday.”
Fisting your skirt, he buried his face to your neck, his whole body shivering under you. “I never wanted to be a Prince. I-I wanted to keep playing sports and go pro someday. There’s a whole world out there for me to see, and I’m so afraid I’ll never become the person I want to be. I’m afraid I might turn out like my brothers.”
You pulled back to make him look at you. Cupping his face with your hands, you shook your head firmly. “That’s not true, Tobio. You’re already a thousand times better than your brothers. Look, you’re sweet, kind, and passionate. Who says you don’t deserve to achieve your dreams? You can be who you want to be. You can see the world. I promise you that I’ll support you in anything you want to do. Anything.”
“Really?” grinning, he wiped his cheeks free from his tears. “Then… will you come to my game? There’s a match and the Coach just added me to the team. It… Well, it might be a good opportunity for you and everyone else to show you’re unaffected by the scandal, too.”
“Oh, forget the scandal. I only want to see you play,” you tell him, and the Prince’s innocent smile is so big and bright it soothed all the aches in your heart. You promised to yourself, then and there, that you would do what it takes to protect that smile. “Now, should we get to this painting?”
That talk with Tobio filled you with unwavering resolve.
The poor boy didn’t deserve to spend a minute longer in the Palace. It simply wasn’t a place for him. He needed to be out there, living his life to the fullest, and to be surrounded by good people who were healthy for him. Not his greedy, cheating brothers, and most especially not with the heartless Queen as his only mother figure.
You had to do something for him. You had to weaken the throne even further, exploit their weakness and make the monarchy crumble. If not for you, then you would do it for Tobio.
It was the reason you’d gained enough courage to dial the number weighing heavily in your pockets long before Itachiyama. That piece of paper Kiyoomi slipped into your coat just before you parted ways. You should’ve known it back then – Kiyoomi was somehow always one step ahead of you. It’s like he knew what you wanted to happen before you said out loud. What you needed before you told him what it was. And you’d done it – scheduled the meeting, hired a private chauffer, and rented out a restaurant in the middle of nowhere at the dead time of the night before you could change your mind.
Do it For Tobio. For Kiyoomi. For you.
He arrived not a minute later than the designated time. He stood tall and confident – seemingly unbothered by the mass of hate he’d accumulated. Sauntering in through the doors with a smirk, he let out a low whistle, impressed with the lack of people. You had promised him privacy, after all, and if you wanted to succeed in your plans, you couldn’t be shy in splurging a little bit of money.
“Kuroo Tetsurou, was it?”
“Your Highness,” he greeted with a bow, his smile growing wider as he pulled out his chair. He’s handsome, with a smile you wouldn’t deem trustworthy, and he held an aura to him that warned you to tread carefully. He was, after all, the man who singlehandedly exposed your husband’s affair. “I am flattered by your efforts, though I must admit. I did not expect you would reach out to me of all people. I assumed you wanted my head.”
You offer him a polite smile. “You have it all wrong. In fact, I’m thankful for the opportunity you’ve presented to me,” leaning forward, you slid a thin envelope his way. Inside it contained a document of your own words, one you trusted Kuroo would twist to sound more convincing. “I want you to publish another article.”
Kuroo’s eyes widened. He waited for a beat, a moment or two, for you to say you didn’t mean it. You could’ve been joking. But you hold his gaze, your smile just as firm, refusing to waver from his intense gaze. “With all due respect, Ma’am, I think I’m already in enough trouble for that last one.”
Fair enough. You didn’t think he’d be that easy to convince.
Reaching beside you, you pulled out a case and clicked open the locks for him. If Kuroo was surprised before, he was most definitely flabbergasted by now. Wads of cash piled against each other stared back at him – temping him to reach out and take it. Smiling to yourself, you gently nudged the case in his direction.
“This is half of what I’ll pay you. I’ll pay you twice as much once you’ve done your part,” you promised, “You don’t need to fear, Mr. Kuroo. I’ll guarantee your protection if you do this for me.”
Kuroo chuckled to himself. Shutting the case back shut, he was quick to slide it to his side – deal done and closed. “If a lovely Princess is asking so nicely, I can’t possibly turn it down, can I?” pulling out a small notebook from his coat, Kuroo uncaps his pen with a twist of his teeth. “So let’s get into it. What story do you want, Ma’am? Do you want the truth or… something more scandalous than your husband’s affair?”
“I want you to ruin Iris,” you declared, “Inside that envelope is a list of people the Princess frequently interacts with, as well as records from her history dating back from when she moved here with mother. I want you to look into everything and pick apart whatever could destroy her reputation. There are secrets that she keeps, and I want them out in the public.”
Kuroo doesn’t bother writing that down. “Her reputation is well ruined already, Ma’am. I doubt much could make it worse.”
Your brow shoots up. “Are you doubting my abilities or questioning my demands?”
“Neither,” he reassured with a mischievous grin, “I shall write something about her, then, but what about the Crown Prince? Do I still have the assurance of your protection if he comes after me for messing with his precious little thing?”
Oh, please. His ‘precious little thing’ doesn’t even want him.
Spinning your wedding finger with your thumb, you stared at it. “Tell me, Kuroo. You’re a journalist, one that wasn’t invited at that private party my husband was in. So why were you there that night? Most importantly, how did you get their photos?” you brought your gaze back up to him, “You’re not secretly planning for the downfall of the crown, are you?”
Kuroo scratched the back of his neck. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Your Highness. But to answer your question, then no, I wasn’t invited. I wouldn’t even know a single thing about their affair if it wasn’t for one of you.”
“One of us?” you echoed, “Are you saying someone in the royal family hired you as well?”
“Indeed. Though I must say, I never expected working with just one of you could have me set for life. What more if I teamed up with you too?”
So your theories were right. That article didn’t appear out of nowhere – someone wanted it to happen. “It was Iris, wasn’t it? She asked you to publish that because she knew I was with her husband… but that wouldn’t make any sense. That article puts her in a bad light. It couldn’t be her, right?”
“You’ll be surprised, Ma’am, but it was not the Princess,” he clarified.
Kuroo’s face pinched in contemplation, and then suddenly, pulls out a different phone from his pockets. It’s a beat-up iPhone with its battery nearly dead, but with a few clicks here and there, the video played loud and clear. The camera is shaky, the angles all wrong. Whoever recorded it clearly seemed to be inebriated. Yet there it was – the unmistakable masculine voice groaning, the slapping of skin against each other, and a high-pitched womanly moan. The camera caught nothing but long, blond hair flowing on top of her bouncing breasts before the camera was flipped, finally showing the culprit –
“Atsumu?”
Atsumu gripped Yuki’s hips, shoving the phone between their bodies to show the pistoning of his cock in and out of her. There was no point denying it now. Both their faces were clear from the video, and if this got out…
Kuroo paused the video. “I’m not supposed to be showing you this, but the Prince hasn’t kept up to his end of the bargain, so I might as well ask for your help, too,” shutting the phone off, Kuroo rested his chin on his hands. “That night, he slept with an intoxicated actress and accidentally filmed themselves in the act. The Prince was drunk himself, made the mistake of posting that video online, and merely eighteen minutes later, any traces of their sex tape disappeared. Curious?”
The pieces of the puzzle finally fit.
“He called you to write about Iris and Rintaro to cover up his scandal.”
He snapped his fingers. “Bingo! And he succeeded, even if it was an impulsive decision on his side. Still, the Prince paid me handsomely because he was desperate, but he hasn’t offered me protection like he promised. I’m being hunted down by the Queen’s goons as we speak. Isn’t that why you offered to have me chauffeured here?”
You knew Kuroo prioritized his safety over money due to his current predicament. It was the reason why you risked sneaking out of the Palace and meeting him alone. His terms were clear – no witnesses, no guards, just you and him. You would keep to your word if it meant cornering Iris, but with Atsumu and that poor actress thrown into the mix… things just got more complicated.
Reaching out for Kuroo, you squeezed his hand. “You will be safe with me. I promise you this.”
“Thank you, Your Highness.”
You glanced at the iPhone between you two. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Kuroo, but now that you know he’d do pretty much anything for money, you couldn’t risk it. It wasn’t just Atsumu’s reputation you were worried about – firstly, Rintaro would kill him if he found out it was all his doing. Second, that poor actress. She rose to fame in her career recently; this would ruin her image. If things took the wrong turn, who was to stop the Queen from forcing the two to get married if that tape was leaked? You couldn’t risk any cracks in your plan.
“Kuroo, may I have that phone?”
“It’s all yours if you throw in another five grand, Princess.”
“Consider it mine then.”
You and Kuroo left immediately after everything was settled. Just as promised, you would cover all his travel expenses. He would stay overseas to ensure his protection while he reached out to his connections to get all the information he needed, and once the article was ready, he’d publish it and disappear from the media. You covered that too – he was paid enough to live comfortably while in hiding. Now, you only needed to wait for everything to go according to plan.
First, the downfall of Iris. Next, her separation with Kiyoomi without having to let Rin ascend to the throne. And once she’s finally out of the picture, you’ll move on to your beloved husband. You’ll seduce him, have him fall completely to your whim, make him realize he could never have anyone like you again – and once he’s wrapped around your finger, you’ll plea for divorce.
A heart for a heart. A marriage for a marriage.
And if the odds play into your favor at the end of it all, there’s only one destination in mind: Kiyoomi’s farmhouse in Itachiyama.
You smiled to yourself – it would work out. You had a good feeling about it. Kiyoomi is supporting you and acting as your spy, Kita is backing you up on the grounds for divorce, and the nation has unwaveringly showed their support for you in these trying times. After all, you were just the poor, neglected wife. They expected you to spend your days crying and chasing after your deceitful husband, or to simply take it all – be silent and smile for the cameras.
Fuck what the Queen said. You won’t let her win.
Driving back to the Palace, you glanced at the time. It’s almost four in the morning, and soon, Her Majesty would be beginning her routine and expecting her daily calls from the Princes. Pressing harder on the gas, you sped up until a glint catches your eye. You glance at the rearview mirror, eyes widening at the fast approaching car from behind – a sleek, black car with the royal family’s crest on it. Shit. But – it couldn’t be the royal guards. You’d made sure no one would see you, and Airi had gotten your note to slip some sleeping pills into Rintaro’s tea so you could sneak out. Kiyoomi was informed of your plans, too, and he’d reassured he’d hold the fort down while you dealt with Kuroo.
Unless Iris had snooped through his phone and found everything out, then –
You wasted no time. You drove faster, reaching for the gun in your glove compartment as the roaring of the car behind you moved in closer and closer. Heart pounding in your chest, you speed-dialed Kiyoomi, praying to any God who was listening that he would pick up. It couldn’t be Iris, it shouldn’t be her. God forbid she does anything to provoke you into pulling the trigger.
Infidelity was one thing, but the murder of a royal family member was not something one could merely frown at. You didn’t want to be thrown into jail.
The call did not push through.
“Fuck!” you slammed your feet on the gas, watching as the car sped up even more until it was now next to you. You were in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by nothing but the mammoth of trees and a never ending road with darkness clouding the path. Just then, the windows rolled down, and you waited with bated breath as the face finally came into view.
Dark hair was the first thing you saw. The windows rolled down, down, down, until you were staring deep into your husband’s eyes. Brow cocked, he smirked, raising the phone to show he’d been calling you – that’s why you couldn’t call Kiyoomi. Suna was interrupting the line. Shit, how was he even awake right now?
Moreover, how did he find you?
You scowled to yourself. There was no outrunning him now. Suna was a ridiculously good driver, and there was no way you would ever use a gun on him. Steeling yourself, you forced yourself to regulate your breathing – your efforts boon when Suna suddenly pressed on forward until he was a feet away from you, maneuvered his car with the hood facing your direction, and then just – stopped.
Bracing your hands on the wheel, you forced all your energy to release its power on the slamming of your brakes. The skidding of your car squeaked for what seemed like minutes until finally – finally – your came to a halt. You were breathing hard, the back of your head aching from the impact of it crashing to the headrest. Meanwhile, Suna opened his car doors in slow, languid movements, the ends of his leather black trench coat hitting the pavement. With nothing but the headlights of his car illuminating him, he looked more like an omen of death than a Prince – dressed in a white turtleneck, black pants, and a long coat that highlighted his tall figure. He looked ominous, like he carried sorrow and pain with him – pain that he was about to make you feel.
Because you knew – of course you knew; you knew him better than anyone – that the placid smile he wore was anything but.
He slammed the car doors shut. Leaning against the hood, Suna’s gloved hands reached for a lighter in his pocket as he lit his cigarette, the stick hanging from between his lips. As soon as it flickered, he pocketed the lighter back, using two of his fingers to make a ‘come hither’ gesture at you.
Clearly, you spoke too early. The odds were not in your favor.
You exited your vehicle, hands gripping the edges of the door as you gathered to courage to take one more step towards him. It wasn’t that you were afraid – he wouldn’t hurt you, not really. But too much could be taken away from you in such little time – Kuroo couldn’t have gone far, and Atsumu’s sex tape was still in the backseat. You didn’t trust Rintaro to not ruin your plans. And you wouldn’t let him, not now when you were so close to victory.
One step, two steps, three steps – your heels clicked against the road as you walked, making sure to keep your chin pointed north. Hips swaying to the side, you finally ended up before him – right between his spread legs – your husband leaning back at the hood of his car whilst he sized you up, his free hand resting behind him.
“Funny seeing you here,” he drawled out, his voice thick with barely-held back rage. “They told me you were sleeping, but last time I checked, driving while falling asleep was illegal.”
“Cheating is also illegal.”
“Your comebacks are getting old, my love.”
Your head snapped to his direction. He hadn’t called you that in forever, not since you’d returned from your honeymoon. To have him call you that now, with such a deeply rich, smooth voice and sounding like he’d just woken up, all breathy and rasp – could it be possible to fuck someone to death?
“What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” tipping his head to the side, Suna’s lips slowly formed into a smirk. He took a drag of his cigarette, keeping his eyes on yours as he wrapped those lips around the stick – delicately and tantalizingly slow – just like how he did when he worshipped you in bed. You breathed out hard and attempted to take a step back, but he was having none of it. Swiftly, he’d tugged on your shirt to pull you close to him, causing you to stumble and fall into his lap. Above you, your husband’s chest rumbled with amusement.
“Look at you. Always so weak for me.”
He leaned in close, his scent of smoke and expensive woodsy perfume enveloping you. It’s addicting, just as he is, and your knees grew weak. Your legs slid down just as Suna wraps a strong arm around your waist to hitch you back in place, your core resting above his thigh. There, he spreads you open with just his knees, his warm lips suddenly attaching themselves to your neck. You gasped out, hands falling to his shoulders in a measly attempt to pull him away – and oh.
Suna had different plans in mind.
“You,” he breathed in your ear, his gloved fingers popping the button of your blouse one by one. “cannot get rid of me that easily, Your Highness. You can slip in as many drugs you want in my drinks, you can kill me a hundred times and fuck me over again and again, but don’t you dare forget,” growling lowly in your ear, your husband took your chin in his hands and forced you to gaze deep into his eyes – pools of hazel swirling with need and wrath – “Not even death can do us part. I’ll keep on looking for you even if you try to hide at the ends of the earth.”
#suna x reader#suna rintaro x reader#suna rintarou x reader#suna x you#kiyoomi x reader#kiyoomi x reader smut#kiyoomi smut#sakusa kiyoomi smut#kiyoomi x you smut#haikyuu smut#haikyuu x reader#suna x reader angst#kuroo x reader#kuroo tetsurou x reader#kuroo tetsuro x reader#haikyuu x reader smut#rintaro suna x reader#suna rintaro x you
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Can't Get Enough
pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader rating: E | explicit | 18+ only word count: ~1,200 tags: nsfw, hate sex, angry sex, penetrative sex, throat/breath play, rough sex, multiple orgasms, angst, reader and din hate each other yet can't get enough, din makes you sad, no physical descriptions of reader, no y/n
notes: This isn't my usual style, but I just kinda had to get some stuff out. Not really edited or fully flushed out, for that matter. But hopefully posting something new will help me get further in my other work! I have something due for the d20 writing challenge and I am so sorry that one hasn't happened dfghjsfkl
taglist under the cut❤️
He slammed you against the wall with a loud thunk.
Your throat was sore from exertion, your pulse quickening with each groan he released.
His hand found your neck again and held tight, forcing you to look into that visor and see your own lust-blown gaze reflected back at you.
Fuck, he pissed you off. He got to see you like this, but you didn’t. Every time you two wound up like this, it felt like another charge added to an invisible tab. Like he owed you something, because you always gave him everything.
The thought was brief, soon vanquished by another angry thrust, pain and pleasure melding together and turning your brain to mush.
You peered in deeper, willing his eyes to show themselves. You channeled every ounce of mental energy you had left into him – how much he hurt you, how angry he made you. How angry you were at yourself to have given into this again.
And why? Nothing ever changed. He’d come over, both of you would be pissed as all hell, take it out on each other, and then he’d leave. Neither of you walked away feeling any better.
… You never stopped to wonder why he kept coming back. It took two to keep this up, after all. You sucked on his thumb when he stuck it in your mouth, wrapping your legs around him to bring him deeper into you.
You hated this. You hated that it always came down to this for you to feel something. Ever since the two of you broke up you’ve been searching for something, but hell if you knew what it was.
You hated that he was still your answer. You surely didn’t love him anymore, but you hated that you still needed him.
Especially because he doesn’t need you.
He rammed into you, deeper and deeper, sending you into convulsions. You screamed into the humid air, grasping at his shoulders for dear life.
His own cries followed, a loud ‘fuck’ echoing into the darkness. He pried you off the wall and threw you down on the bed, putting the full force of his weight into each delicious stroke.
You couldn’t help the whines that spilled out of you. He had a way of dragging out every single sensation until you were drowning in it all. Drowning in him.
It was infuriating.
You pulled yourself up to his shoulder, kissing and biting at his salty skin. A gorgeous, vindicating sense of pride soared through you when he let out a whimper.
You liked to think you were the only one who could make him do that.
It made him pound harder into you. Your bite matched, his skin muffling your screams.
“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” you panted.
“Yeah?”
You nodded.
“Good.”
He pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in. Swears piled out of you. Your heart was pounding, your blood on fire. He had the nerve to fucking chuckle.
“You like that, don’t you?”
“Bastard.”
He did it again. You wailed.
“Shit,” he whispered.
Any wittiness he had was gone. His pace became manic, one goal in mind. Your eyes rolled back as he continued to ram his cock against your g-spot.
“Close your fucking eyes,” he growled, pressing a hand over them.
The sensations grew stronger without the distraction of sight. Especially after hearing the familiar hiss of his helmet and feeling the subsequent mouth on your neck.
Your moan echoed around you both. Your hand came up to press against his head.
“Din-“
Your orgasm erupted without warning. He used his hold on your head to press you into the mattress, fucking you through it without relent.
“Yes, keep coming, baby.”
Wave after wave of pleasure had your legs flailing and your back arching. Stars appeared before you. The onset of tears built up behind your eyes.
“I’m not fucking done,” he mumbled.
His free hand began to swirl your clit. You thought you couldn’t scream any louder, yet he proved you wrong.
Your muscles tensed up all over again, that sweet coil threatening to break with each tiny movement.
“You better fucking come again,” he said through gritted teeth, like he was holding himself back.
The combination of thrusting and tight circles on your clit had you coming undone again with ease. Your second release was stronger, your body’s convulsions all the more erratic.
But he didn’t stop.
His hand left your eyes to grip your hips, and you had to fight with yourself to keep from looking at him.
“One. More.”
He pulled you to the edge of the bed and dragged you onto his cock over and over. The new angle was steeper, hitting something deeper inside that you weren’t aware existed.
“Oh god,” you sighed. “Right there.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you whined.
He let out a groan and picked up the speed. You threw your arm over your eyes, afraid you wouldn’t be able to control yourself for much longer.
His breath was labored, accentuated with deep heaving. He wasn’t going to last much longer, which meant—
“Runnin’ out of time, baby, you better give me one more.”
You squealed with each pulse of contact with your g-spot, but his words made a bead of annoyance interrupt your trance.
No, you thought. You’re not gonna get what you want this time.
You squeezed your muscles, clenching his cock tighter between your walls.
“FUCK,” he shouted. “Feels so good-”
His grunts were too much to bear, each one scratching that sweet spot in your brain that went straight to your pussy, but you had to hold back. He had to break first. You gripped the sheets with your free hand and clenched your jaw, desperate to keep the impending third orgasm down.
His grip on you tightened.
“Oh, fuck you,” he spat.
“You already are, dumbass.”
You didn't recognize the graininess of your own voice. But what came after told you it worked.
He leaned over you and continued the rapid pace, both of you moaning into the air just before coming in a heap of screams and roars.
He buried his head beside yours as he rode out his pleasure, taking yours with it.
He eventually slowed to a stop, standing back up and taking care to pull out the condom with his spend without spilling, just as he did every time.
You heard the plop of it getting thrown in the trash before he leaned over you once more, caging in your frame with his arms.
“Look at me.”
“I haven’t heard the helmet-”
“Look. At me.”
Even through his labored breathing, his voice was unwavering. He put his hands on either side of your face, forcing your gaze to meet his when you did peek your eyes open.
The tiny amount of air that had replenished in your lungs was gone.
He was a vision: skin glowing with sweat, eyebrows scrunched with a crease in the middle, sharp cheekbones and a hooked nose…
… But those fucking brown eyes. They were just downright unfair.
You put your hands over his wrists to keep his hold in place. A glimmer of hope dared to emerge in your head – is he letting you see him because he actually did care? Was there still something in him that loved you?
But then he let out a deep chuckle. Your heart broke all over again.
Why’d I even bother?
“You’ll never get enough, will you?”
You gulped. It always came down to this. But this time, you’d seen the truth.
Not only was this his last playing card, but you had a winning hand.
A confident grin bloomed across your face, the satisfaction already tasting so sweet now that you got to say this directly to his actual face. You’d get to see that smug expression die.
You’d get to finally be the one to let him down.
“Neither can you.”
****
taglist: @booksarekindaneat @bluemacaron @c-a-v-a-l-r-y @whataenginerd @girlofchaos @christina-loves @literallydontlook @the-little-ewok @salome-c @dear-fifi @mswarriorbabe80 @littlemisspascal @keldabe-kriff @kurlyfrasier @booksaremyyoga @elegantduckturtle @artsymaddie
#din djarin x reader#the mandalorian fanfiction#din djarin smut#the mandalorian smut#my writing#din djarin x f!reader
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to hold you, to heal you | n.s.
Summary: Noah is exhausted. It feels as if he's failing at everything, including at being the boyfriend his girl deserves. She's there to reassure him that that couldn't be further from the truth.
Tags & trigger warnings: angst, implied poor mental health (self-doubt, anxiety, depression), mentions of sex, fluff, comfort, just pretend live 2024.
words: 1.9k | my works
to hold you, to heal you — noah sebastian x fem. reader
The house was shrouded in quietness, the calming fragance of incense lit half an hour ago still lingering in the air.
Noah had gone to bed an hour earlier; he was exhausted.
Silently, she made her way to the bedroom, careful not to disturb him.
He lay on his side of the bed as she entered, back turned to her, the covers barely draped over his bare torso.
The temperatures had risen in the past two weeks, making the house uncomfortably warm. They should've swapped the covers for summer sheets, but neither could muster the energy to change them just yet.
She tiptoed to her side of the bed and slipped under the covers, nestling herself right behind Noah, wrapping an arm around his stomach and pressing her chest to his back, her cheek resting against his shoulder.
It was often that they found each other like this: her spooning him. They loved to intertwine their legs beneath the sheets, and he loved to drag her hand to his chest, right where his heart beat. He wanted her to feel it, to feel how his heart’s rhythm transformed from a relentless dance to a gentle pulse at her touch.
She nuzzled the tip of her nose against the nape of his neck, delighting in the feel of his soft locks, growing longer by the day. His hand found hers and guided it to the spot where his heart resided. She focused on his heartbeat for a while, on his breathing. She let the warmth of his body transfer to hers, despite the heat already filling the room.
Cooconing him like that felt like a promise that would eventually break. When he was in her arms, she felt as though she could shield him from anything, everything. She could just keep him caged, safe and sound tucked against her body, much smaller than his yet capable of safeguarding him. She so desperately wanted to keep that promise…
Yet, she was aware that those we love eventually slip, one way or another, no matter how much we try to ease their fall.
Nobody is extempt from hurting.
And now Noah was hurting. Her promise hadn’t lasted.
She tightened her grip unconsciously when a wave of anger and sadness washed over her, her muscles pressing against Noah’s, her heart wanting —needing— to break through the skin and find Noah’s, merge with his, beat as one.
Love is always a constant battle of trying, trying, failing, trying, trying again, and sometimes, making it right.
Tonight, she would make it right. She would heal him one way or another; take some of his pain and store it in her own chest, in her veins, in her bones.
Blinking away the tears, she pulled back slightly, just enough to see his back. It was dark, but the moonlight filtering through the curtains revealed the faint lines of his tattoos. Unable to stop herself, she traced the designs with a gentle finger, following every curve and sharp edge.
Noah shivered beneath her touch, his muscles tensing.
In less than a minute, he turned onto his back, his hands seeking her. He grasped her and positioned her astride his lap, his hands resting on her hips while hers landed on his chest. He wore nothing but black boxers, and she was clad in his t-shirt and cotton panties.
Under the moonlight, she found his October eyes.
“Hi,” she said softly.
“Hi,” Noah replied.
“Did I wake you?”
“No,” he answered, their voices mere whispers in the night. “Couldn’t sleep,” he explained, a hint of resignation in his voice.
It was soft now, not the rough, visceral one he used on stage for some of Bad Omens’s songs. This was the voice she loved the most, the deep raw timbre that was yet so delicate, both tender and masculine, holding harmony within a quiet power. Every time she heard her name uttered with that voice, that tone so soft yet demanding, she melted in his hands.
“The voices?” she guessed.
Noah nodded, letting out a heavy sight that he’d tried to contain, his gaze falling. She hated seeing him so conflicted, but there was only so much she could do. She didn’t know what else to do beside be by his side, engulfed in the dark of the after hours and surrounded by white noise.
With nothing more than a hmm, she brushed some hairs away from his face, and spent the next few minutes tracing her thumb along his forehead and then down his left eyebrow, trying to push some of his worries away. His eyes closed momentarily, and his own fingers began to move in a soothing rhythm where they touched the skin of her thighs. The weight of her on top of him always felt delightful, a comforting pressure.
But the sensation lasted only a few seconds. He grasped her wrist, holding her hand away from him.
“You deserve someone better than me.”
His words caught her off ward, making her frown and shift back a little, trying to discern his expression in the dark.
But he looked resolute, no ounce of doubt on his face as the words seemed to fill the space they were in, threatening to suffocate them.
“Noah—”
“You should be with someone that doesn’t spend most of the time away,” he began, “someone who isn’t locked in the studio whenever he’s home. Someone who doesn’t take time off to get his mind straight instead of choosing time off to be with his girl.”
She was tempted to snort. He was being silly. Yet, she knew it wasn’t the time to take his confessions lightly. He was suffering, and her job was to ease that pain, even if it meant going through the same conversation they’d had many times before.
“Is that what the voices told you?” she inquired softly.
She was met with silence, the room charging up with his unspoken words.
“Noah,” she said, her tone determined as she tried to capture his full attention. She freed herself from his grasp and leaned forward, resting her forearms on his chest and reaching the sides of his face with her hands. He hadn’t shaved in the last three days and a little stubble was growing. “I love watching you work,” she said. “It’s what makes you happy, and I’d never do anything to keep your happiness away. Same goes for your health. You need this. There’s no arguing about it.”
He didn’t seem convinced by her words, his hands falling to the sides of her body, resting apathetically on the mattress. He felt defeated.
“Noah, baby,” she insisted, calling his name softly and touching his chin with two fingers. Look at me. Listen to me. “You’re driven by passion, and that same passion is the one that led you to me, so please, don’t say that I don’t deserve you. I deserve no one but you.”
She waited for her words to sink in. There was a little crease between his eyebrows now. He was still doubtful, torturing himself needlessly.
“I want you happy and healthy, and taking time off isn’t something you should feel guilty for. I’m proud of you for it. And I’ll be happy if you decide to stay locked up in the house for a month. I’ll stay here with you because a healthy Noah is my favorite Noah.”
Under other circumstance, he would have made a joke about that, probably a dirty one about her favorite Noah. But that night, the truth was that he didn’t feel like laughing. As much as he loved her smile and her little laughs, there was a demon on his shoulder reminding him of all his failures and all his weaknessses.
She was so sweet to him, though. Always making an effort to knock off that demon and step on the devilish creature, turn it to dust with her fierceless light.
His hand instinctively rose to her cheek, his thumb moving in a slow, almost reverent motion that stirred her heart. She leaned into his touch, her own hands cradling his face and keeping him safe, enveloped in her embrace.
She missed him. She had missed him terribly over the last few months. The entire year, in fact. But she was stronger than her own demons. She watched from afar as her boy made his way up, as his band grew, as their artistry gained recognition beyond the walls of their homemade studio with each passing day. She watched Noah’s tireless dedication to reaching out to the world with his music, his stories, the worlds capable of creating on his own. She watched as he poured his heart and soul into it, and how time began to consume him, both day and night.
Until he could bear it no longer.
She touched her lips to his. She kissed him for a brief moment. Soft and slow, emphasizing her presence, her connection to his very soul. And he responded delightfully, breaking the contact just for a few seconds, keeping the kiss a ghost, his lips hovering over hers beyond touch.
Inhaling his fresh breath, she wanted him to kiss her again. She wanted to let herself drown in the kiss.
When he did kiss her, it was the most achingly slow kiss he had ever given her. It was a kiss that said, “I’m tired. I need slow. I need time to stop. Please, hold me.”
And she would hold him. Any time. Always.
As her body relaxed on top of his, he cupped her entire face in his hands, keeping their mouths locked together. She tasted divine, and he cursed every second he had to pause to take a breath before diving back in with a little sigh.
When she shifted on top of him and he felt her core hovering right where he should’ve had an erection, he felt instead another failing.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, withdrawing from her, his hands slipping away, turning his head so that his cheek pressed to the pillow. He exhaled with defeat.
“Sorry for what?” she asked, disconcerted.
“I’m not… I’m not in the mood for sex right now. I’m sorry.”
“Why do you have to be sorry for that?” she questioned, her confusion deepening. “I’m not here to demand that from you,” she added. Far from it. It pained her that he thought she needed that every time he kissed her. It pained her to see him punishing himself again for simply not feeling up to it, as if there was something wrong with it. “In fact, I just hoped I could just hold you all night.”
Noah looked back at her, somewhat taken aback. Not the reply he had expected.
He was definitely not his usual self.
“Would you let me?” she pleaded, blinking.
It took him a moment, but finally he relented, placing a hand behind her head to pull her down so that she rested against his chest. With each steady rise and fall, she smiled through watery eyes, hoping that tonight she could keep her promise: to hold him, to heal him, if only until the sun rose again.
She had just closed her eyes when his voice filled her ears again, soft, delicate, vulnerable.
“I’m so afraid, that the walls that I have made have locked me in. I’m not okay. But I can try my best to just pretend…”
He was singing to her.
If you or someone you know is struggling with mental health & well-being, you are not alone and there is always someone willing to listen and help. Reach out and keep fighting. There's always a light at the end of the tunnel.
#noah sebastian#bad omens#noah sebastian one shot#noah sebastian x you#noah sebastian x reader#noah sebastian fluff#bad omens cult#noah sebastian fanfic#noah sebastian fanfiction
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Nothing Even Matters
pairing: cassian x reader
warnings: swearing, probably typos, some angst, mentions of trauma, some fluff
summary: When the only thing you want during your recovery is the very person who put you there in the first place.
[ part one ]
—
“How’s it feel?”
“Fuck you,” You seethe through your teeth, words slurred from the wires holding your jaw shut—only for a few days, they said with remorse but all you could feel was such all-consuming rage. Such intense anger because you couldn’t move your body how you wanted; your arm was stiff in the tight bandaging holding it to your body while the dislocation and fractures healed.
Azriel glanced over at Rhysand who was offering Madja a sheepish smile, hands tucked in his pockets as he stood beside you. “Believe it or not, that was a lot nicer than some of the other words she’s been stringing together.”
“She shouldn’t be talking at all. Healing from a broken jaw is no easy feat—talking before the bone properly sets can lead to us needing to rebreak it all over again.” The heated glare you send her way could’ve killed if they were sharpened swords and Azriel has to step in front of you to ease the stormcloud you were casting above the room. Madja doesn’t seem to mind, urging the spymaster to step aside while she began her assessment. “Follow my finger,” Your eyes narrow with hate but you comply after a beat of time. “Good, no noticeable neurological deficits,” She scribbles something in a notepad, noting down the amount of pain meds you’d been receiving and an update of your vitals. “Your swelling seems to have gone down significantly—does it still hurt when I touch here?”
The High Lord cringes at the stream of profanities that slam at the edge of his mind; an act you’d been subconsciously doing since the moment the tonics for the pain had worn off the first time three days ago. You’d shoved your anguish out as far as it would go, so hard Rhysand had choked on a breath, hands clenching at his sides as he put forth more effort than normal to keep his mental shields up. “She says yes.”
Your hand taps once at Azriel’s arm and when he looks at you, you give him a jerky nod of your head. “She wants to know when she can go home?”
Madja lowers the notebook, voice annoyingly calm and full of understanding; not deterred by your attitude in the slightest. In fact, she seems to expect it, smiling softly before speaking, “Have you been eating?”
Your hand slams down twice on the table before you.
It’s jarring; aggression was never something you’d displayed often, if ever, but Azriel only takes a step closer, nearly sitting on the edge of your cot with an arm wrapped around the back of your pillow.
“I’ll assume that’s a yes.” Madja continues writing, bullet pointing your behavior and way you reel in your snark for the shadowsinger beside you. “Have you been able to get to the bathroom on your own?”
Two more slams against the table but these are much harsher than the first, a cup full of water splashing at the sides and Azriel lets out a sigh. “Not on her own but she’s really close. The dizziness just gets to her when she’s standing for too long.”
Rhysand spares a glance at the towering frame standing in the corner behind them absorbing every word like a child experiencing the world for the first time. Cassian had been unbearably quiet, avoiding Azriel at all costs but he was the first who’d noticed you beginning to stir awake. He’d barely left, always getting caught with a rag and warm water, dragging at your skin gentler than fingertips on flower petals. Rhys had to knock Cass out himself when the med staff came to take you away, advising that the wiring was imperative but the General couldn’t stop screaming about how you’d already been through enough; about how you deserved a full day of peace before putting you through even more pain.
“Any other symptoms besides the dizziness?”
You hesitate, heated gaze faltering for a beat of time before you’re slamming your hand down once and Cassian waits a full thirty seconds; golden eyes boring into Azriel’s back, urging him to mention the nausea, the splitting headaches that had you gripping at the first hand you came in contact with for any sort of comfort.
But, Azriel doesn’t say a thing.
“That’s good, what about—“
“Headaches,” Cassian’s voice is raspy with such little use and he’s more than grateful for the brace preventing you from moving around too much because he’s certain one of those sickeningly sharp glares were being specially crafted with his name on it. “She gets headaches and throws up sometimes because of one of the tonics—it’s orange.”
Madja, ever the professional hums in acknowledgment, scribbling down more notes and a furrow grows at her brow. “Could be an allergy or maybe the mixture is too much on your stomach without solid foods yet,” She not even talking to you, just muttering her thoughts aloud while the others tense; awaiting your reaction. They wait for the ball to drop; wait for the throwing of the first item in sight. It wouldn’t have been the first time and Az’s shadows had gotten surprisingly good at predicting it, darkness darting before the window before you could smash it to pieces since Madja insisted she’d dock any damages from your pay. “Thank you, General, that was quite helpful.”
A full minute passes and still, there’s no yelling; no frustrated grunts or shouting in your mind—just utter silence and you’re too busy settling further into your pillow to notice Rhys’ curious stare.
“If you can manage no talking for seventy-two hours then I will clear you to finish your recovery from home,” You’re nodding before she can finish, Azriel gently pushing you back when you try to sit up in your excitement. “I mean it—I’ll know if you aren’t taking the physical therapy seriously. At least an hour of walking a day ; slowly so you don’t aggravate your ribs and I’ll take off the shoulder wrap if you swear not to do any heavy lifting of any kind.” You throw her a pointed look, a hand waving around to motion at the three men that had been permanently stationed around you.
“We’ll take good care of her.”
Madja exhales a steady breath, hands resting at her sides and way she regards you is nearly motherly; relief settling into her features when she can confidently say you’ll make it. “Then, I suppose you’re free to go.”
—
“Come on she said at least an hour.”
Azriel is a sturdy pillar before you, arms crossed and shadows incessantly tug at the thick duvet you’d been grasping at like your life depended on it since he barged in ten minutes ago. You grunt in disapproval, settling deeper into the mattress and you shield your eyes from the bright light steadily pouring through—even though you remembered closing the curtains last night.
“You’ve already skipped breakfast and lunch; it’s nearly three in the afternoon. Get up.”
Your inability to speak seems to work in your favor because all you offer Az in return is a hand peeking from the covers to flip him off.
A pause and one eye pries open when you hear footsteps retreating. Five minutes pass, then five more before you relax back into the fluffy pillows, dragging the covers up to your chin and a content smile curves at the corner of your mouth for a fraction of a second before your entire body is drenched in freezing cold water.
You lurch from the bed like a creature rising from the dead, feet bare and legs on full display when you slowly stare up at the pleased shadowsinger, eyes wide and arms frozen in surprise as you dripped all over the floor like a wet dog. “Good. Since you’re up and showered, let’s go downstairs and get you something to eat.” Azriel’s looping an arm in your own and leading you out before you even have time to change, sloshing footsteps left in your wake and when you enter the sitting room Mor has to slap a hand over her mouth to hide the laughter.
“Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”
It’s harmless teasing; friendly laughs and eyes lined with water when they mention the rats nest atop your head but Cassian’s boisterous laugh doesn’t join in on the fun. He takes one look at you and quietly leaves the room; he'd been doing that a lot since the accident—ever so present when you weren't consious and practically non-existent when you were.
You catch Feyre staring at the bruises on your neck, the thick bandage stuck in place on your temple, how stiff your posture was from the tight wrappings securing your ribs in place and she flushes when you offer her a tight-lipped smile, trying to appear more sturdy than you looked. "Sit, I'll get your food."
Eyes roll at Az's choice of words, easing over to the couch with a low grunt. Food was a sorry excuse for whatever the fuck you'd been sentenced to consume until the wires were removed. A thick porridge like substance with a distinct grit that lingered on your tongue no matter how much water you chased it with.
It was nice to be home though, to sleep in your own bed and being able to ease the tension with a hot bath and a stealthily stolen glass of wine—even if it was impossible to wash your hair or to change your clothes without assistance. Fresh air breezes through the windows, ruffling the curtains and the High Lord is quick to dry your clothes with a wave of his hand. With nothing more than a quick touch to his shoulder in thanks, the others watch you brace your weight against things to get to the hallway, turning left in the same direction Cass had gone earlier.
It’s not hard to find him, cooped up in his room with a glass of amber liquid in hand; eyes trained on the crackling fire. “What are you doing in here?” He’s up in a flash, wings pulled tight behind him and a broad shoulder urges your good arm around his neck, warm hands are careful when lifting you off your feet and carrying you over to the neatly made bed against the wall. Pillows are stacked behind your back to prop you up in a way that didn’t agitate your ribs and you give a sad smile when Cassian’s eyes linger on the bruises that were steadily healing up the length of your legs and he’s carefully covering them in blankets with a shaky breath.
Usually, he’d have sat next to you but now you’re unbearably aware of the distance he puts between you; hands clutched at his sides like he was physically restraining himself from reaching out to touch. “You eat yet?” A slow shake of your head and Cass lets out a little chuckle in understanding. “Not surprised, that shit’s gross. Az never was that good in the kitchen.”
Everything smells like him; male and musk, cedarwood and bourbon. It’s overwhelming in the best way and years of memories begin to flood your senses; countless late nights spent in here drinking and laughing about nothing. Lazy mornings with breakfast in bed and amused snorts over buttered toast and tea when the Illyrian boasted about his latest conquest or earned accomplishments but then would go sheepish when you’d genuinely told him you were proud of him—happy that he seemed happy.
Cassian shifts his weight from foot to foot, unable to meet your eye because you were gazing at him so lovingly; not an ounce of hate in sight and guilt bubbles in his belly like curdled milk. “Don’t go anywhere, I’ll make you something.”
A few minutes pass of you examining the room before you notice there’s a bottle of whiskey on the bedside table and your brows furrow in worry. You’re grabbing it without second thought, shoving the bottle under the bed frame and out of sight before you hear the thudding footsteps coming down the hall and through the doorway. A goblet of a glass is clutched in one hand with a metal straw hanging over the rim; he rambles off some of the fruits he used while he walks over, gently settling it in your hands. Fingers graze and in the blink of an eye he’s already taken three steps worth of space between you but the berry smoothie is a significant upgrade from Azriel’s porridge mixture—little wins. This was sweet but not too sweet, thick enough to quell the rumbling in your stomach and thin enough to push through the gaps in the wires with ease. It’s half gone quicker than you care to admit but Cass seems pleased, yet the small smile he wears is quickly wiped off when you motion for him to sit next to you.
“I can’t.”
Brows scrunch together in silent question, head tilting to the side.
His face crumples, features lined with stress and it’s then you notice just how broken he appears—sure, maybe he didn’t have the bandages and wrappings but the damage was still there. “Look at you, peach,” Tears well at the pet name, your head lowering as if it could possibly hide the ugly bruising on your neck; it was the only spot that seemed to be taking forever to get better, a kaleidoscope of purples and deep blues. “Look what I’ve done to you,” Breath catches and you ache to comfort him when he doesn’t even bother to hold his wings off the ground. “I’m so sorry.”
Cassian only moves closer when you set the cup down and make way to stand; it’s then he sits near you, urging you back down and you see the way his throat bobs with the thick swallow when your hand gently rests over his own. Words aren’t needed to express how much you didn’t blame him; not anymore—not after the nights he’d spent hunched over your bedside spewing out confessions of his feelings. The unconditional love that never stopping pouring over when it came to you and the shameful jealousy that had followed. Secrets he’d kept in fear that you didn’t return the same affections; terrified to ruin the carefully crafted friendship that took centuries to perfect. To become an extension of the other and adding his feelings seemed messy—too complicated and then all of this. You and the sounds of your cries for help permanently branded at the forefront of his mind for all eternity. Waiting in anticipation for Madja’s updates on your health, how you were fairing and if there was any lasting brain damage; a burden he was fully prepared to bare for you. Willing to sit by your side with his fingers kneeding through your hair to soothe away the headache he knew was coming in from the scrunch of your nose even after being pumped full of pain relievers.
It seems fitting that you can’t voice what you know; the pieces that you’d held onto while stuck in your mind. Body too numb to even pry your eyes open but the hope of hearing it while conscious was a strong enough anchor to have you clawing to the surface—back to Cass and those lazy mornings and tea with entirely too much honey.
He’s a mess when you pull him in closer, brushing your fingers through his hair the same way he’d done for you. You can feel the feather light kisses he presses to the exposed injuries, silent tears dripping on your skin, hushed whispers of his apologies, all the ways he’d planned to do in order make it up to you. All the things he should’ve and would’ve and could’ve done and you have to pry his face from the crease of your neck to make him look you in the eye.
There are no words but the intensity of your stare says plenty and he’s right back where he started; wanting things he shouldn’t and falling back into selfish habits. Leaning into the warmth of your mouth slotting over his own and every bruise and broken bone doesn’t even matter when he’s finally kissing you—soft and tender but all too quick and he’s pulling away before you can memorize the feel of him. “You’re perfect,” Cassian whispers, forehead pressed against your own, hands keeping you close. “I don’t deserve you for a second.”
But you only kiss him again because in that moment nothing else mattered.
#a court of thorns and roses#acotar x reader#acotar x you#acotar#high lord rhysand#azriel#cassian#cassian x you#cassian fanfic#general of the night court#cassian x reader#cassian acosf#cassian acotar#cassian fluff#cassian fic#best friends to lovers
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Quiet time
Barbie dolls: poly maurders x reader (James, Sirius, Remus, you)
Word: 1.2k ish
Summary:you're overstimulated (autistic not sex) and Remus' chronic pain flares up and hilarity ensues
Warnings: you stim with your hands and also are overstimulated, I described it with my own experience so it might not be like yours, Remus Sirius and James are dating I know that's crazy but sometimes poly gets tagged with it just being an odd threesome and not actually poly, you watch TV? I think that's it dude
James and Sirius had left for their date a long time ago. You and Remus decided to spend the time they were gone at home. After they had closed the door a lot had happened. When Remus woke up that morning his hip was bothering him. 'only a little' he whispered to you three as you all watched him take pain meds. Remus often downplayed his pain for the benefit of others. He seemed okay though after his meds he was going about his tasks like normal. After Sirius and James left, his pain seemed to quadruple. So you got him into a warm bath. You made him his favorite soup. You made the bed, adding extra pillows for his back. You pulled out Remus' heating pad. You tucked him into bed with his soup and everything else you could think of. Unfortunately within the time it took for you to take care of Remus the world got too loud, your clothes got to clothesy, you could feel your teeth, everything was too much and now you were overstimulated and your boyfriend was practically bedridden.
When you did get overstimulated your partners were nothing but helpful. You often would stop talking, opting for silence. You wanted it dark and the only sound you wanted were sounds that you picked. Like the TV show you've already seen eight million times, the music you picked out. You need your weighted stuffed animal, your weighted blankets, your clothes needed to clothes in the right way, you needed to sit and not do anything for as long as possible.
Your partners were exceptionally good at working with your needs. Remus didn't mind when you stopped talking. He loved your voice but he also enjoyed quiet time. It was nice sitting next to a bundle of blankets that occasionally sprouted a hand holding out a peice of chocolate for him. Sirius would doodle on your arm, the repetitive movements calming your brain. He'd sit in a dark silent room anyday. Getting him to stop talking was sometimes a feat but you could press your finger to his lips and he'd get the message. James would squeeze you very tightly and the compression helped a lot. So that's how you and Remus ended up on either side of your bed, both wrapped up in your own comfort items. Your tv show was playing on the television, Remus didn't mind that he had all the lines memorized. You'd shake your hands every time the intro played and mouthed the words. It's all he needed to know you were more than happy. You had your stuffed animal pressed to your chest and your blankets wrapped around you.
Sometimes Remus felt too hot from pain to want to be all over another person. Sometimes you were too aware of your skin to want to cuddle. The only physical contact you two were sharing was your arms outstretched, your hands resting on the mattress, pinkies pressed against each other. That's all you wanted. The lights were off. Remus thought he might drift off and he hoped when he woke the pain would be gone. Then the door opened.
James and Sirius came prancing in. James was already moving towards the dresser, pulling out comfy clothes. Sirius looked like he wanted to jump into the bed, but he recognized the position you and Remus were in. He moved over to Remus and gently kissed his cheek. Sirius asked him all his regular doting questions. Remus answered all of them. Remus waved Sirius off when Sirius asked if he needed anything. James left to the bathroom to get changed as Sirius moved around the bed to your side.
"How you feeling about physical contact?" You pointed to your cheek. Sirius quickly leaned forward and press a kiss to your cheek.
"How do we feel about cuddles?" Sirius asked, looking between you and Remus. You heard Remus shuffling and moving his blankets to be more accommodating for another person.
"I suppose I could." Remus muttered. Sirius turned to you, waiting on your reply. You pointed to the bathroom. You held your thumb and pointer together to make a tiny spacy between, and then pointed to Sirius.
"You'll cuddle James but not me?" You nodded. Sirius clicked his tounge before pecking your cheek again. He whispered an 'I love you' before quickly moving over to Remus. He gently snuggled up to Remus, not wanting to hurt him. Remus wrapped his arms around Sirius. Sirius stuck his hand out behind him and wrapped his pinkie around your yours.
Soon enough James came into the room in his pajamas; red plaid pants, one of Sirius' worn band shirts, and fluffy socks. He first checked on Remus leaning over Sirius' outreached hands to kiss Remus. Sirius tugged on James' shirt, pecking him too. James moved to you, holding his hands behind his back. He knew if he didn't restrain himself he'd want to cuddle you immediately.
"Oh I love this episode." Sirius whispered, staring at the screen. He started to mouth the lines to himself.
"World got too much?" You nodded, letting out a sigh. You leaned to the side, knocking your head into James' abdomen. He took that as a sign you needed his physical affection, wrapping his arms around you.
"You want squeezes?" You nodded against James' chest. He pulled away from you. You scooted forward on the bed, giving James space behind you. He quickly crawled in. James had his legs on either side of you before gently tugging you back. Your back pressed against his chest. James wrapped his arms around you, squeezing lightly. You sighed against his shoulder. James kissed your shoulder. He looked over to Remus. You ran your fingers over the back of Sirius' hand.
"How are you feeling, Moony?" James whispered. He didn't want to be too loud for you and you greatly appreciated it. Remus groaned.
"Like an old grandpa." Sirius smiled at you before nipping at Remus' forearm with his teeth. Remus kissed the top of Sirius' head. James cooed. He gently kissed Remus' shoulder.
"Well I think you're a very hot grandpa." Sirius grimaced at James. James smiled at Remus. Remus burried his face in Sirius' hair looking up at James.
"That was gross James." Sirius whispered. His voice was muffled by the sleeve of Remus' sweater. James sighed, dropping his head against the headboard.
"I'm trying to be positive." James argued, still keeping his tone hushed. Sirius shook his head.
"It was nasty. What kind of person finds old grandpas attractive?" Sirius asked. Remus loosened his hold on Sirius.
"Ouch, Pads." Remus muttered. Sirius glared at him before looking back at James.
"I was being kind, but of course you wouldn't know much about that. I swear you almost mugged that guy at the restaurant." James rolled his eyes as he argued with Sirius. Sirius scoffed before looking to you.
"Can you believe this, baby? He's such a scoundrel. You should've cuddled with me." Sirius giggled at his own joke. You looked over Sirius' head to make eye contact with Remus. He shook his head.
"Would you like to leave them both and run off on our own?" Remus asked. You shrugged and turned your head. You looked away from them entirely. They took that as a sign you wanted quiet time. You slowly fell asleep in James' tight hold. They all kept quiet as they got ready for bed themselves. James just threw a pillow behind his head and scooted down further so he was laying down. Sirius washed his face and Remus took his melatonin. His insomnia and pain often made it difficult for him to fall asleep. They both bolted back into each other's arms the second they finished. Sirius rested his head on James' shoulder as he fell asleep.
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