୧ synopsis it's not easy, falling in love with someone who is still getting over someone else. sukuna learned to be patient for you, but as his affection for you grows, so does his hatred for the man who made you so scared of love in the first place.
୧ wc 3.9k
୧ content mdni, angst, smut, some fluff too, hurt/comfort, sukuna pov, falling in love, very anxious reader, jealousy, post reader and gojo breakup, sex on the first night, protected piv sex, overstimulation, making out, biting, a little bit of a breeding kink, crying after sex, and a lot of crying in general, aftercare, moving on, posesssive sukuna
୧ a/n this is sukuna's pov of the story, you can find the other parts in this collection! this can be read as part 3 or as a oneshot too. art by @/riyalise & divider by @/diviniyae
"Who is that?"
Sukuna himself was surprised to hear the words leave his lips, but he couldn't help the curiosity.
He found himself sitting on an uncomfortable stool in someone's house party he somehow got convinced to attend, surrounded by the same boring faces as always – until he noticed a new one.
A new girl, sitting on a sofa far ahead, involved in the party but… not really. You had a tight hold on your phone, and you glanced at the screen every few seconds like you were waiting for a message that never came.
It made Sukuna anxious just watching it.
And right now watching was exactly what he was doing.
It wasn't just the fact your face had made his heart skip an awkward beat inside his chest when you walked past, not even noticing him. Nor was it the fact you seemed to prefer sitting alone rather than engaging with the rest of the party, something he could relate to well enough.
No, there was something else about you too. You just seemed so… sad.
Smiling a pleasant smile whenever anyone approached, nodding your head and making conversation as you were expected to, sure – but that odd veil never seemed to lift from behind your eyes.
Sukuna wondered how none of the other idiots here had noticed.
"My friend" Yuki answered his question with a raised eyebrow, in a tone that said she was shocked Sukuna had even noticed anyone else's presence in the room apart from his own.
He was well aware of other people's assumptions of him, so he didn't bother replying to her taunt. "Is she alright?" Sukuna asked instead, after he watched you check your phone for what had to be the tenth time in a single minute.
Yuki sighed, turning to take a look at you with a solemn expression herself. "She's going through a tough time" was all she said.
Sukuna didn't like the sound of that at all.
So he decided he wanted to change that.
He lifted himself up and walked right past Yuki, picking up a fresh bottle of beer on the table while he was at it. The blonde seemed curious but let him be, turning to rejoin the party as Sukuna strode far away from everyone, and towards you.
"This seat taken?"
His voice took your eyes away from your phone, tilting your head up to blink at him in surprise. Your eyebrows scrunched together, and he watched you quickly scan your surroundings, trying to figure out if there was anyone else he could be speaking to.
"No" you replied, almost like a question, but you moved to the side so he could take the seat next to you on the small sofa.
Sukuna sat down awkwardly, his broad frame taking up most of the seat, but you didn't seem to mind. "Here" he grunted, passing you the fresh bottle while bringing his own to his lips.
You were surprised at the gesture, but had no choice in accepting. Not with the way Sukuna was practically shoving the cold glass into your hands and forcing you to drop your phone onto your lap.
"Is that for me?" you asked, as if it wasn't obvious.
"Who else would it be for?" he asked, instantly regretting how sharp he sounded.
But you didn't scoff, or roll your eyes, or call him an asshole like most people seemed to do. Instead, you laughed – only a small chuckle, but some tension finally seemed to ease from your shoulders.
Naturally, his own shoulders dropped as well.
"Thank you" you muttered, hands closing around the bottle, phone now forgotten to your side.
Sukuna didn't know why you were so attached to that thing, but he seemed to understand it was a good thing you had finally let go of it. "Let me" he said, searching for his keys inside his pocket to remove the bottle cap for you.
It was only a favour, something that had no business feeling this intimate. But Sukuna was far too aware of how his thigh brushed against yours when he leaned in, of how close you allowed him to move into your space even if just for a second.
The sound of air escaping the freshly opened bottle matched how his own finally leaving his lungs, he realised.
"Thank you again" you smiled kindly. And then, to his surprise, it was your turn to lean into him – you extended your hand, clinking your bottles together. "Cheers" you said, completely unaware of how you had surprised him.
Sukuna nodded, reciprocating the gesture. He watched you tilt your head back as you drank, followed the curve of your neck and noted the beautiful angle it made with your shoulders. He hid his crimson gaze behind his own drink, but anyone else around would have noticed – Sukuna was fucking hypnotised.
You finally lowered your hand with a satisfied hum, opening the first real smile he had seen the whole evening. "I needed that" you sighed.
Both your hands closed around the cold glass, phone still forgotten.
"Not having fun?" Sukuna asked, tilting his head to meet your gaze. You were close, very close, but you didn't seem intimidated by him like everyone else.
How intriguing, he thought.
"I am" you replied, looking away – maybe because you were nervous, Sukuna hoped, or maybe because you were lying.
"Are you?" he questioned, keeping his eyes locked on your face. You struggled to hold his gaze, blinking towards him and then away, until you finally sighed and understood you couldn't lie to him that easily.
"It's been a long week" you confessed, looking down at your hands.
Sukuna let that hang in the air for a moment, letting the weight of what you said sit with both of you instead of you alone.
"Yeah?" was all he managed to say. He wasn't good with things like that, but fuck if this pretty girl at the party didn't make him want to try.
You only nodded, looking down at your hands. He saw your eyes blink down, then to your phone by your side, then down again, and finally… to him.
You opened a little smirk, more self pitying than anything – and it was right then that Sukuna decided he wasn't giving up until he saw that real smile again.
"Let's change that" he said.
Three hours later, Sukuna had you crying for a completely different reason than whoever the fuck had gotten you that upset in the first place.
"Kuna, fuck– I can't–" you moaned as your legs only pulled him closer, your hands clawing at his shoulders in desperate need, face all scrunched in a mess of delicious tears that he was enjoying kissing away.
"You can" he groaned against your skin, slamming his hips into yours again, earning a loud whimper that sounded like music to his ears. "Taking it so fucking well for me"
You brought your hands to his face again, chasing his lips desperately. He had one hand rubbing small circles against your clit, determined to get a second orgasm out of you before he had even had one himself.
When he had suggested leaving the party together, Sukuna hadn't necessarily expected this was where the two of you would end up. But hell, he wasn't mad about it.
As it turned out, you looked even more beautiful crying from pleasure.
"I'm gonna–" you whined as your back arched, body trembling slightly as Sukuna kept slamming into you through your high, enjoying the way your eyes rolled back and you completely let go, suspended in bliss and relief.
"There you go" he smiled, biting the side of your neck. "Knew you had it in you" he teased, and you let out an elated laugh, bringing him closer.
"You feel so good" you hummed, and Sukuna decided he wanted to push himself up just to see your euphoric face. He brought his two hands to close around yours, pushing both above your head as he interlaced your fingers together, hovering just above you as he admired you like a painting.
"Good" he replied with a sly smile, a particularly harsh thrust punctuating the sentiment. "You're fucking gorgeous"
Too gorgeous, he thought.
"You think so?" you asked, and he hated how surprising that was to you.
He kissed you again, as if to prove a point. Your mouth parted and your tongues danced, with all the excitement of an unexpected night, but far too intimate for a one night stand. "Gorgeous" he repeated, biting your lower lip.
"Th-thank you" you tried to say, and Sukuna laughed against your lips. Who the fuck thanks someone during sex for just stating a fact?
Why would he be sleeping with you if he didn't think you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, after all?
"Kuna" you moaned, that stupid nickname you had given him after your first orgasm, but he was beginning to like it. He enjoyed thinking he made you feel so good that his full name was just too much effort.
"Go on, say it again" he rasped to your ear, hips rolling deliciously into you.
"Kuna–" you whimpered, legs closing around him, and your voice was the thing that finally tipped him over the edge.
Your nails dug into the back of his hands but Sukuna didn't let up, pining you with all his weight as you happily took everything he was giving you. Spilling everything inside the protection he was wearing, but he caught himself wishing there was no barrier between you.
Maybe next time, he thought, letting hope slip out in his blissful state.
Sukuna's hips stilled finally, face coming to the crook of your neck. He left a kiss there, followed with one to your jaw, tasting the sweaty mess he had made of you, and then one to your cheek – your salty tears prickled his lips, but when he noticed your chest move up and down far too quickly, he started to worry they weren't from pleasure this time.
Sukuna pulled away from you fast, scrunching his forehead as he watched tears pour out of your eyes; slowly, not dramatic, like you simply couldn't stop them from escaping.
His breathing completely stopped, everything about him going very still.
"Did I hurt you?"
"N-no" you said as fast as you could, shaking your head sideways and attempting a smile. But Sukuna was not happy with your response still.
"Are you sure?" he prodded, not meaning to sound so stern, but everything in him was in high alert. His crimson eyes didn't leave yours, but his hands started roaming the curves of your body, caressing in slow circles to soothe whatever it was that had you crying like that under him.
Was he too rough? Was it too much?
Were you scared of him like everyone else?
To his surprise though, you let out a little wet laugh. "You're sweet" you said, opening a beautiful smile that completely undid him, despite the wetness all over your face.
Fuck, he thought.
Sukuna hoped you couldn't see it, but he was almost certain he was blushing.
"Tch" he grunted, rolling around to settle next to you and pull you into him. "No one else would say that"
"You are" you replied while Sukuna turned you to him without any struggle, resting your head right on his broad chest. He was so warm, you thought, letting yourself sink into him.
"Then why are you crying?" he asked again, unwilling to let it go. Sukuna tangled a large palm on your hair, softly caressing the back of your head, trying to figure out what the hell he could do to help.
"I didn't expect to, I–" you tried to explain, but those crimson eyes were back on you, and his other hand around your waist had you somehow trusting you could just be honest with him.
"I'm scared you'll leave" you admitted finally, voice too small.
Sukuna pulled away from you just slightly, just so he could see your face. "Why would I leave?" he asked, like the notion alone was ridiculous.
You swallowed thickly, struggling to meet his eyes. "You won't?" you asked pitifully, looking anywhere but him.
He wanted to kiss you to prove it. Wanted to hold you all night and fuck you again and again so you'd finally get in your head how much he wanted you.
But he could tell this went far deeper than just insecurities.
"Who made you think like that?"
Sukuna hadn't expected his question would bring more tears to your eyes, and it was almost like he could see you shut him away in real time. Your eyes fell downwards, and your hands played with your own nails instead of gripping him like he wanted – clearly something still too painful hiding just under the surface.
So he didn't let you. "Hey" he called, bringing his hand to your chin now, to force your eyes up. "I'm not going anywhere" he reassured.
It sounded like the right thing to say, and he knew he fucking meant it, but why the hell did he feel like it only made you pull away even more?
"You don't have to do that" you shook your head, hiding into his side and attempting to sound more composed. "Sorry, I'm sure the last thing you want is a one night stand cryi–"
"Stop" he interrupted then, stern. In one swift move, Sukuna was on top of you, taking on the role of cleaning your face with his gruff finger tips, trying very hard to be gentle.
He could see it in your face how surprised you were. How you expected to mean nothing to him. Sukuna was used to people assuming he slept around, but truth was, he didn't – Sukuna didn't really do one night stands. Today had been as an anomaly for you, as it was for him.
So the fact you were crying, thinking he would just dispose of you like that? That pissed him off more than anything.
"I'll get you some water" he announced, leaving a gruff kiss to your forehead. "Then we can have a bath, and then you can tell me. If you want" he completed, far too aware of how serious he was sounding.
The last thing he wanted was to scare you.
But you smiled, surprising him again with a shy nod. "That sounds nice" you murmured.
He could have sworn your hand tried to cling to him as he stood up, but he wasn't even sure you were aware of it.
Sukuna did as he promised, taking care of you for the rest of the night. He cleaned you up, dressed you in his old oversized shirt that looked much better on you than it ever had on him, and held you tight for the whole night.
You didn't want to tell him why you were crying then, but you had time. This wasn't the only night you spend together, after all.
Sukuna hated to admit it, but ever since then, you barely left his mind. What started on that unexpected night turned into something more meaningful, day after day, kiss after kiss – but still, you struggled to tell him what made you so scared.
He tried to figure it out himself, piercing together little bits of information you had given him, mind always conjuring up the worse case scenario.
He just had to understand why it never mattered how often you spoke or how nice your day was – when it was time to say goodbye, he could see the silent fear creep up all over your beautiful face.
You tried your best to hide it, but he didn't want you to.
Sukuna didn't mind reassuring you, not really. Sometimes just an extra hug when you needed. A kiss to your forehead. A promise that he'd call later. He understood you just needed confirmation he wouldn't leave. Needed confirmation that you meant something.
Why the hell did you think you didn't?
That was the part that drove him mad.
And the day you finally decided to tell him, he understood.
It was a grim story about some asshole called Satoru Gojo.
Satoru Gojo. The name alone made him sick.
He didn't even know the guy, but every time you opened up more, his hatred only grew.
It wasn't nice to be falling for someone who was still getting over someone else, but Sukuna learned to be patient for you.
Sometimes you pulled away, talked down on yourself, expected nothing but pain from the unavoidable feelings that were starting to grow; but Sukuna was always there to pull you back. He didn't blame you for it, after all, it wasn't your fault – it was his.
The man who had taken your heart only to step on it with no care for how it left you to take up the pieces.
Satoru Gojo.
Sukuna looked up the asshole everywhere online, like a predator stalking his prey. He had to know. Everything in him was consumed by how much he despised the man that made you believe you were cursed.
He found his profiles easily enough, clearly the idiot enjoyed showing off. He had to admit he was good looking – white hair and blue eyes and a confident smile. Rich too, it seemed. The type of guy who felt entitled to use people, Sukuna rolled his eyes with a scoff.
It wasn't nice to imagine there were probably pictures of him out there that you were in too. With that easy smile of yours – the one Sukuna only saw rarely, only at times you let yourself truly relax.
You probably smiled like that more often before him, didn't you?
He hated imagining the two of you together, but Sukuna wasn't jealous – he couldn't be, when he was the one you turned to. The one you were slowly letting into your heart; and Sukuna was in no rush.
Not jealousy, he reassured himself, heart hammering into his chest as he held you tight in the night, your nails digging into his bicep like you were trying to cling on even in sleep.
Definitely not jealous, he thought again, when your gorgeous smile returned one day and Sukuna caught himself wondering how anyone could have it in them to hurt you.
Not jealous – angry, Sukuna settled on, fantasizing about punching that smug grin right out of Satoru Gojo's face, on a night you had cried when telling him about how you felt disposable.
Who knew opportunity would actually present itself.
That one fateful day, Sukuna had been waiting too long where you were supposed to meet before he decided to walk back and look for you.
What was probably only five minutes had felt like a life time. You were never late. Sukuna was fucking worried.
So he walked back, fast, turning a street corner and then another, until he finally saw you from across the street.
Oh. Maybe he was jealous, he realised.
Because standing on the other side was you, clearly upset, clearly holding back tears – and across from you, the man he had only ever seen in pictures.
With his hand holding yours.
Sukuna's owns instinctively curled into fists as he rushed to your side, vision turning red.
"Hey" he yelled, crossing the street. "The fuck is going on here?"
Your eyes immediately snapped to him, managing to relax him the tiniest bit. You rushed to him, pressing two palms to his chest, pleading with him with your teary eyes. "Kuna, it's ok" you said, and he went over every little detail of your face to reassure himself that you really were ok.
And then, his crimson eyes shifted up.
Now that he was this close, Sukuna could see it clearly. That truth he could only have assumed before.
This Satoru Gojo was pathetic.
With his stupid mouth slightly agape, brows furrowing together like he was confused at what was happening.
Yeah, asshole, Sukuna thought. She's with me.
"Who the fuck do you think you are" he snarled, pulling you into his chest. "Putting your hands on my girl?"
The way the other man's face fell gave him all the satisfaction he needed, that smug face contorting like the words had physically pained him.
Good, Sukuna thought, not a sliver of sympathy.
You had completely hidden your face into his chest now, knowing exactly where safe was. Sukuna could feel how your breathing had changed, could feel the wetness in his shirt. "Please don't yell" you sobbed, and his heart hurt hearing you like that.
"He made you cry?" Sukuna asked, all focus back on you. His beautiful girl. His.
Crying because of this idiot.
His hatred towards Satoru was only outweighed by his love for you; Sukuna was fully focused on wiping each tear away, tenderly brushing his finger tips over your cheeks.
"I'm sorry I was late" you murmured to him, leaning into his touch. It was unfair how you could undo him like this – this was meant to be the big stand off he had been dreaming about. His chance to beat up the guy who had made you so scared of love.
But now, he found himself wanting nothing more than to make you smile again.
"Don't" he replied with a kiss to the top of your head. "Got me worried sick, and then I find you upset and this asshole with his hands on you–"
"We just ran into each other" you shook your head, hands balling into his shirt. The nice one he had bought for your date specifically. "It's ok"
Hell. You sounded so apologetic. As if you had done something wrong by happening to run into the guy.
You looked at Sukuna with those pleading eyes that begged him to forgive you for whatever crime you thought you had committed. Even in this moment, so scared he'd just leave.
Sukuna hated this.
And right there – the man who made you think like that.
So close. So fucking close.
And he had the audacity to try and hold your hand.
Everything in Sukuna wanted to confront Satoru, but all his focus was on you.
Making sure you were ok.
Making sure you were safe.
Making sure you were away from him.
"He the one you told me about?" Sukuna asked you, even though he already knew the answer. He held you right where you were, your back to the white haired man, refusing to let him have another fucking look at you. "Let me get you out of here" he said kindly, helping you walk away.
You followed, standing by Sukuna's side, leaning into him for comfort as you continued forwards with your eyes glued to the floor.
And as you both walked away from him, Sukuna couldn't help another look back.
At his challenger. His rival. The man whose ghost still clung on to you in your darkest moments.
Satoru Gojo.
A man he hated so much, but right now looked nothing but pitiful.
Sukuna wasn't moved by his desperate tears. He was convinced Satoru Gojo didn't care for anyone but himself, anyway.
Part of him did regret not throwing that punch he so desperately wanted.
And as much as he hoped with everything in him that you'd never run into Gojo again – Sukuna hoped he would.
after a long day, it’s no surprise that you’re left with no energy to take care of yourself, let alone clean up and drag yourself off to bed. luckily for you, your two boyfriends— satoru and suguru, the infamous strongest duo who are as weak as kittens for you— take it upon themselves to bathe you and wash your hair. princess treatment has never felt this good.
⋆.˚ content: SFW but MDNI 18+, fem!reader, canon jujutsu universe (alt au where geto doesn’t defect), fluff fluff fluff, humor, established polyamorous satosugu x reader, gojo and geto are WHIPPED for you and for each other, domestic intimacy, a fair amount of suggestive jokes (but the entire fic stays non-sexual), mentions of battle wounds & scars
a/n: this is a requested drabble for the non-sexual acts of intimacy prompts “taking a bath together” and “having their hair washed by the other” for a fewww different anons 🙂↕️🫶🏽 hope you all enjoy cos this was sm fun to write 💓 masterlist.
Bathwater laps softly at the porcelain edges of the tub, warm enough to turn your skin dewy beneath the draping of steam that hangs hazily over the air like a wedding veil. The bathroom's steeped in the mellow glow of an amber and blossom-pink sunset filtering through the windows that overlook Tokyo. More jasmine-sweetened steam drifts in languid, translucent ribbons from the oversized tub fashioned to fit three (thanks, Gojo clan money).
Lounging with your lovers, everything is pleasantly heavy— your limbs, your eyelids which have long fallen together, your subdued thoughts— and softened by the calming ease of being in Suguru's and Satoru's presence.
You sit between them, back resting against Satoru's steadily beating chest, his ridiculously long legs fallen open for you to sit between them with all the careless assurance of a man who has never once worried about taking up space. Suguru rests against the opposite edge of the tub with one arm curled along the rim and his legs similarly extended. Satoru's and Suguru's calves and thighs skim against each other where they border yours beneath the water, neither inclined to break the comfort of simple touch.
"You've gone quiet." Suguru's observation echoes off the tile.
"Mhm." Your answer is only half there.
"You awake?"
"Ehhh… Kinda sorta, sorta kinda," you mumble, seesawing a hand.
Satoru leans forward until his forehead lightly bumps your nape. "No sleeping yet, pretty girl. Ragdolling while we try to get you clean is a surefire way to go down Ben Drowned-style,” he teases.
You whine a little in protest even though the reference makes your lips tick. "But you guys made me so comfortable already..."
And they truly have.
The bath had been waiting for you before you'd even thought to ask for one. Actually, the idea was planted in Satoru and Suguru's heads the moment you texted that you were dead-tired and grimy to the group chat from the back of Ijichi's car. You had been the only one to head out on a mission today, Satoru spending the day teaching and training the first years and Suguru mirroring him with the third years— Satoru had weaseled his way into a full hands-on day with his students, claiming he needed somewhat of a break, and Suguru spent most of his time teaching rather than hunting curses anymore, anyways.
(You and Satoru have been on the offensive with the higher-ups for years to nail down this arrangement for Suguru. Sure, Suguru still took on the occasional mission when everyone else was stretched thin by their own duties, but for his mental health’s sake, it was best that he stuck to guiding and nurturing the current generation.
You never want to see him as hollowly depressed as he was after everything that went down when he was a student.)
When you'd finally wandered into your shared house with knotted shoulders and your thumbs aggravatedly digging out the soreness from your temples, both your boyfriends snatched you up at the genkan and herded you like wildly insistent border collies to the master bedroom's ensuite, which had been transformed into a luxury spa during your twenty minute commute.
Towels were folded up in their warmer, candles swaying happily, the massive tub brimming with fragrant bathing oils and mineral salts— literally the whole nines. All the tiny things you'd long forgotten mentioning you preferred for a long soak were present, that information lovingly archived inside two impossibly attentive minds.
Before you could burst into happy tears at the lengths they went to for you, Suguru helped peel away your clothes before passing you off to Satoru, who offered both hands the moment you stepped toward the siren call of the water on sore legs, smoothly bowing as though escorting you into a ballroom instead of a bathtub.
Between them, lowering yourself into the steaming water (which was the fucking perfect temperature, holy hell) was less like climbing into a bath— another chore to hustle through before bed when you were already so worn-thin— and more like mindlessly handing yourself over for what they both dubbed your 'princess treatment.'
Suguru's smile is a ray of gentle light coloring his words, "Are we supposed to apologize for being good boyfriends?"
"Yeah. And you have to live with the consequences," you sigh, slumping further back into Satoru. The water rocks with you.
"You hear that?" Satoru says to Suguru over your head. You feel his chin nestle into your crown, arms loosely coiling at your waist. "She's blaming and threatening us."
"This is what happens when we go out of our way and draw us all a nice bath, huh," Suguru kisses his teeth, theatrically disappointed in you and what his and Satoru's efforts have come to. "Shame. I guess we won't be doing this ever again."
That finally gets your eyes to crack, blinking past the steam shrouding your slivered vision. Suguru watches the both of you with a sleepy beam curling the corners of his mouth, midnight lashes dampened and beading at their tips from the humidity. In spite of his long hair being wound up in a picture-perfect bun straight from Pinterest— his thorough wash-day took place yesterday and he's in no hurry to rewash his hair all over again— the baby hairs coiling at his nape and hairline are helplessly frizzy, fallen victim to the moisture in the air.
Suguru's gorgeous, a fallen angel meant to tempt you into the salacious temptations of the forbidden— much like the equally stunning blue-eyed beauty cuddled up to your behind, fluffed up white hair as refreshing as winter's first snowfall and his innate charming smile ten times more devastating than the cursed techniques sown into his very DNA.
"Hey," you protest, somewhat impressed by how he's twisted this situation to his benefit. "I didn't say all of that…"
A big warm palm finds a home on your shoulder, the callouses at the base of Satoru's fingers dragging a satisfyingly scratchy path over your skin. "I didn't agree to that either. Who's gonna appreciate all our hard work and dedication to pampering her if not, well, our princess?" Satoru wonders aloud, each richly pronounced syllable traveling in a velvety rolling rumble through his chest to your back.
Suguru cocks a brow, though he soaks up the reminder with a smoothly executed drag of the wooden bath tray closer to the corner of the tub's edge. Fancy crystalized bottles rattle, winking rainbow prisms across the walls; the oceanic waves of Satoru's irises, the deep earthiness of Suguru's.
You see them in everything, the two men coloring the world you traverse in a gallery forever curated in their likeness, to the point that you couldn't name a single thing on this planet without your lovers tinting your glasses.
Sometimes, you wonder whether the sky was always that boundless, cotton-candy blue, whether the nature crawling dense coils up Tokyo Jujutsu High's mountain campus had always carried such comforting shades of chocolate-brown, or if loving them has simply trained your eyes to always pay homage to Satoru and Suguru. Whatever the case, you're ridiculously smitten.
"Appreciation isn't the point, Satoru," lightly sniffs Suguru.
You wish you could see the stupid grin smeared across Satoru's countenance as he counters, jokingly, "It absolutely is."
"It really isn't," Suguru deadpans, looking to you as if to say get a load of this guy. You giggle.
"I don't know about you, babe, but I wanna be praised for my generous deeds," Satoru announces. "It hits like a line of coke after a long day."
Suguru slowly nods his assent. "That is true… though in your case, I'd say that cake is more your style than coke of all things."
"Snoooore," you loudly mime, deadpanning.
Satoru's laughter sears through your skin, beating a hearty rhythm between your shoulder blades. Suguru fans his fingers over his mouth as he joins in on Satoru's chuckling, amusement blossoming in the air. "Alright, alright. The deluxe princess treatment package is on its way now, promise," Suguru sing-songs with a little flap of his hand, finally easing up now that he's found a way back on track. "Satoru, you'll wash her hair and I'll do her body?"
"For sure," he chirps.
Ah, how nice it feels to lounge around like prized, celebrated royalty without a care in the world while your boys work a plan to pamper you.
All it takes is a simple curl of Suguru's black-painted finger for Satoru to obediently thrust his hand past your head, palm paralleling the ceiling as Suguru pops the glass stopper of a bottle and drizzles a generous heaping of shampoo into his hand's cup.
Satoru loops his arms around your front and works the shampoo between deft palms before your eyes, vanilla and camellia blossoms wafting up to your face, which you dip towards the comforting smell with a hum. It's Suguru's favorite shampoo— you're always surprised when he shares some of it and his conditioner with you, given how he treats it like the holy grail that he alone was blessed and entrusted with.
(Even funnier how he flat out refuses to let Satoru get his hands on it. Not that the white-haired sorcerer cares all that much anyhow; he uses a 3-in-1 shampoo and calls splashing tap water on his face a 'proper face wash.' You'd think a man so prideful about his vanity would splurge on products to properly care for himself and his Adonis body— the same way he buys from luxury clothing brands on the daily— instead of winging it like a head-in-the-clouds college fratboy, but alas…
You've gotta give it to him though: his genetics are killer. Curse Satoru and the goddamned perfectly pretty Gojo bloodline. It's not fair for the rest of you 'simpletons' who actually have to put in the work to groom and maintain yourself in order to look even half as unfairly attractive as he does on a random Thursday morning. The universe shamelessly plays favorites, and Satoru is its dazzling golden child.)
"Tilt your head back for me," he murmurs, long fingers immediately finding your hair— already sufficiently wet— the second you obey.
Humming an absent tune that lulls you into closing your eyes once more, Satoru gathers up all your hair, his usual boundless energy replaced by surprising patience. You can envision the way he's likely got his tongue peeking slightly between his teeth as he smooths the shampoo down your head, working up a rich, pearly lather from your crown to your ends with painstaking care exactly as Suguru once taught him.
Nobody from Jujutsu Tech— not Shoko, not Ijichi, not even any of the students— would expect such gentleness from the strongest sorcerer alive. The same man that tears into curses with calculated, almost joyous violence and blows them apart with a well-placed Red and a dry “oopsies,” is unbelievably tender in his task of shampooing the outer layer of your hair before diving to your roots, firm yet gentle. Reverent, really.
His nails glide along your scalp in purposefully light scrapes that send shivers down your spine. A contented sigh escapes you before you can stop it. "Satoruuuu…" You subconsciously roll the r in the same purring cadence that Suguru speaks his name in.
"Yooo, chill," Satoru splutters behind you, sounding alarmed by who knows what.
Suguru fills in the blank with a suggestive smile and thinning of his eyes: "Moan my name next, baby. I'm feeling left out."
Ah. Curious, you shuffle your hips back further into the cradle of Satoru's pelvis, glad to feel a distinct lack of engorged arousal insistently pestering your back; he's as flaccid as the day he was born. Your foot goes splashing water Suguru's way next. He catches your ankle beneath the surface and chuckles sunnily beneath the playful heat of your half-hearted glare.
"You're such a hater," he chastises.
"Excuse me for trying to enjoy my bath and the princess treatment you both promised me while you two horndogs try to make something out of nothing," you say dryly, though the pretense of sarcasm is rendered null by the next (accidentally) suggestive noise that floats its way past your lips when Satoru tugs a strand of shampooed hair just shy of too roughly.
"I didn't mean to do that, sorry!" Satoru jumps to apologize, presuming you'll give him shit for it and kick him out. But the joint snickers that both men promptly share over your head informs you that they're not exactly remorseful; and they're not even trying to play it sly.
"There's gonna be floggers and pillories in my online shopping cart by the end of the night if you two keep it up," you warn even though you're chuckling yourself. "That, or a sounding rod for you to share."
"Yes, ma'am. Sorry, ma'am," Satoru and Suguru innocently chorus.
Devils, the two of them.
But you're not any better, for you praise them in the sweetest purr possible, "Thank you. Good boys," and you all too joyfully reap the color budding across their already bath-flushed cheeks, tipping your head back against Satoru's shoulder to see his properly.
Suguru and Satoru: 1.
You: also 1.
You'll break that tie soon.
Fingers still wrapped in a delicate snag around your ankle, thumb sweeping over the protruding bone, Suguru one-handedly pumps a decent dollop of body wash into his palm, making a fist and dragging his fingers through it to warm it up a tad. "Lift your leg a little higher for me, sweetheart," he instructs, voice no louder than twinkling rain shimmering in silvery ribbons from the sky.
Conscious yet uncaring of the fact that you're already flashing him your most private parts (both your boyfriends have literally seen it all in every sexual and non-sexual scenario possible), you do just that, trusting that Satoru's solidity will keep you from sliding forward on your ass and submerging your face. Your hip flexor and quadricep tighten in a show of undemandingly easy dexterity— the movement of the latter has Suguru's eyes flicking down to watch as though you're his favorite film made human.
He scrunches his legs up in order to fit into the 'v' your own make. Shifting his grip to the back of your calf, he paints your skin in fragrant body wash from your foot, kneecap, to the crease connecting hip to thigh, coating you thoroughly and treating you to an impromptu massage along the way, thumbs kneading tenderly into muscle.
You're practically purring once he's done with your left leg. Suguru eases it back into the steaming bathwater and rinses you off with sweeping strokes of his broad hand until the jasmine-scented suds melt into the surface. Then, without breaking the tranquil rhythm you'd both settled into, he gathers your right leg in his grasp and starts anew from your foot upward, every motion as meticulous as the last.
You don't startle an inch when Satoru picks his task up again whilst Suguru works his soothing magic up your shin. Circles that bloom sweetness through your body are drawn into your scalp with the pads of Satoru's fingertips, thumbs gliding behind your ears before sweeping upward along your crown, coaxing the rich lather deeper through your roots.
His fingertips dance across your hair in broad, enthusiastic circles, working the shampoo in with enough vigor to make your head tip slightly. It's embarrassingly effective in making you lose track of where one minute ends and another begins. The little remaining tension loosens from your body like water through a sieve.
"Oh my godddd," you moan, blissful, completely swept up in their pampering that comes without a price. You melt between Satoru and Suguru without thinking, trusting the secure cradle of their bodies as completely as breathing itself. "This is exactly what I needed. This is heaven."
"You deserve only good things, especially tonight," Suguru murmurs affectionately, gently dunking your right leg and rinsing that one off, too.
"All the time, really," Satoru agrees. He leaves your hair once he's sure each strand is thoroughly lathered up. "Seeing you turn into a cute little puddle is the best bonus I could ask for. Just let us take care of you, yeah?"
He returns to you with a wooden rinse pitcher that Suguru hands to him. He cups warm bathwater into it, stray droplets sprinkling across the bath's surface when he pulls the pitcher free with an audible gulp of water. Anticipating what follows, you tip your head back and stay still as Satoru pours the first cascade of water over your head to cleanse you of the fragrant foam, his free hand shielding your forehead to keep it from spilling over your face.
"You wanna know a neat trick I thought of?" Satoru asks, voice overflowing with prideful excitement. You and Suguru rumble low noises from your throats at the same time, encouraging. "If Blue allows me to pull buildings apart at minimum output by drawing everything towards the impossibility, then it makes sense that if I put the tiiiiniest possible output into Blue—" you feel a tempered spike of cursed energy that makes the dampened hair at your nape prick to attention, "—the field of attraction is weak enough that I can siphon water from hair."
Before the dirtied water can rejoin the pooling bathwater lapping over you all, it peels from your hair like a clean, satisfying strip of tape as though the laws of nature, too, submit to the wonder that is Gojo Satoru.
You feel each saturated lock of hair lighten by degrees more than you see it. Suspended at your sides where you can spy it from the corner of yout eye, the extracted water gathers into a lazily revolving sphere no larger than a melon, pale with diluted shampoo that swirls in pearlescent ribbons beneath the bathroom's amber light. You can tell that Satoru's flicked his fingers behind you when it all goes gliding into a bucket by the tub— he probably thought to put it there in advance, you realize— with a muffled sploosh. Suguru whistles, impressed.
"There!" Satoru chirps, grin crystal-clear in his voice as though he'd unveiled the world's greatest scientific breakthrough instead of an absurdly overengineered bath hack using one of the greatest cursed techniques in history. "No gross rinse water in the tub."
"That was cool, Toru," you gush.
Suguru's laugh slips free in a quiet puff. "Good idea, baby."
The dual praise has Satoru radiating like an overjoyed sun behind you. "Right? Right?" He boasts with no modesty whatsover, chest jutting proudly against your back.
"You'll have to do that for my hair sometime, too," Suguru sighs longingly, tilting his head with a charmed look on his face. He's so cute. "I could use one of my curses, but Blue'll save me so much time. My hair's getting even longer than it already is, if you can imagine."
"Please never cut it," you and Satoru pipe up in genuine agony.
Suguru titters, enchanting brown eyes creasing in a blinding smile, brighter somehow for it. "Relax, you two. I won't. Aside from trimming split ends— knock on wood." He raps the wooden bath tray with his knuckles.
The exchange coaxes an involuntary smile of your own, the stretch of your lips so overly fond that your cheeks ache. It is so wonderfully, unmistakably the three of you— Suguru's easy indulgement forever balanced alongside Satoru's irrepressible enthusiasm and your habit of matching them both exactly where they stand.
Suguru re-lathers his hands to work on your abdomen, muscles fluttering in delicate butterly wings behind the bountiful garden of your skin at the ticklish feeling of his slickened touch; Satoru ladles another pitcherful over your head and repeats the process of gathering and discarding every soapy drop with Blue. Suguru glides soap up the valley between your perked breasts and beneath them as well, even massaging your tits without a lick of sexual intent; Satoru gives you one last rinse before passing curious fingers through your hair until the strands slide cleanly through his hands, gently teasing apart the few stubborn knots left over. The bathwater gently rocks against your ribs whenever they both shift, focused on their individual tasks but nonetheless in tune with one another.
By the time Suguru finishes off your front by washing your collarbones and shoulders and Satoru's just teased apart the few stubborn knots left over in your hair, your hair hangs sleek and impossibly clean, you're feeling squeaky clean from head to toe, and the bathwater around your bodies remains as clear as when you'd first slipped into it, aside from the body wash that's sluiced off of you.
You feel as though they’d somehow washed away not only the day's sweat and oils, but every bothersome thought that had settled there alongside them. You could seriously fall asleep any second without realizing you'd slipped into unconsciousness.
"Look at us working together in sync," Satoru lilts, signaling for the conditioner over your shoulder. Suguru hands it off from the bath tray without missing a beat. "The G.G. Salon is taking off."
"G.G.?" You ask, faint laughter already bubbling through your nose before he even elaborates. You're anticipating something so stupid that it's somehow funny.
"Get gucked," Satoru supplies, only to shriek a soprano's pitch and jackknife his leg through the water when Suguru aggressively pinches Satoru's big toe. "Yeesh, can't a guy joke around here? I meant the Gojo-Geto salon."
Suguru smiles serenely.
They make quick— but not rushed— work of the rest of your treatment. Suguru reaches between yours and Satoru's bodies to bathe your back while Satoru conditions the ends of your hair with the creamy fixture.
Clearing your hair of conditioner after it soaks in is easy as it was for Satoru with the shampoo. He splashes water along your back to finish off Suguru's work, and Suguru leans in to nuzzle a brief kiss against your forehead, lips lingering for only a second before he settles back against the tub's rim again, the picture of handsome relaxation. A moment later, Satoru cranes his head to smooch the side of your neck as if unwilling to be left out, then ducks past you to peck Suguru's mouth.
No words are needed in the wakeful peace that draws a curtain over you; you, Satoru, and Suguru seemingly come to a silent agreement to soak in the jasmine-fermented bath a while longer, all of yours eyes closed in bone-deep gratification. Heat loosens muscles and peels the firm grip of old aches and pains stemming from battles old and new, determined to ease your bodies that've been carved out from years and years of sorcerery. You only clamber out when the bathwater is cool enough to be drained, yours and Satoru's and Suguru's fingers and toes pruny from the extended soak.
The tired little shiver that quakes you when the air hits your damp skin is noticed immediately by Suguru, who quietly directs Satoru to empty the bucket of dirtied water down the tub before turning to you with towels straight from the tower warmer. He wraps one loosely around your hair and gently squeezes away the excess water.
His sweetened cooing of how cute you are when you're all sleepy and doted-on makes you duck your head into his touch if only to hide your face from the loving searchlights of his eyes. You allow Suguru to similarly wrap your body up in a second towel and you gleefully burrow into the fluffy comfort of it.
Satoru zips to your side in literal seconds with two more towels bunched under his arm, blue eyes alight and completely comfortable in his nudity. "My turn," he announces.
"Didn't you have plenty of turns in the bath?" Suguru amusedly points out in a lowered tone. "She's already dried off, anyways."
Satoru pokes his pretty pink lips out in a pout, sulky as a cat denied its dinner. "I want another."
"You always want another," you hum, eyes half-closed and about ready to conk out on the tile of all places. A plane could crash outside and you wouldn't even be fazed, your mind too up in the clouds and doped up on the princess treatment your boyfriends gave you to care.
“Well, I like taking care of you both,” Satoru admits with some sheepishness, scratching his shorn-short nape that you're sure is soon to be warmed pink as you and Suguru look at him with hearts for eyes. "Can't blame a guy for being in love, yeah?"
You really can't; not when you're just as stupidly infatuated with them both. Especially when, adorably, he surprises you both by turning to Suguru and toweling him off with great attention, making your dark-haired partner flush an even ruddier red than the hot water gave his body. For all of Satoru's impossible strength and impossible speed, his hands fuss with deliberate care as they work the plush fabric around Suguru's waist, folding one edge neatly over the other before tucking it securely against his hip. Then Satoru guides a stray bang that fell loose from his bun behind his ear, fingers lingering sweetly.
Suguru blinks once, twice, as though momentarily caught off guard by the simple gesture. "... Thank you, Satoruuu,” he purrs warmly.
The words are accompanied by a smile so soft it melts years off of Suguru's face, leaving behind only the boy who'd once looked at you and Satoru with that same impossible tenderness after late-night konbini store runs and shared umbrellas beneath summer rain as you all ran back to campus after shared misions— long, long before that accursed village sent him into a year-long spiral. Affection settles visibly into every elegant line of him, warming his browned eyes until they resemble polished amber.
Color rushes into Satoru's ears as he's blasted with the full superlunary rays of Suguru's love, almost shying away from his exuberant beam. "Don't mention it," he mutters, already smiling despite himself as he finally slings his own towel around his hips.
A laugh escapes you before you can stop it, sleepy and airy, and both pairs of eyes snap toward you with such immediate fondness. Your heart gives such a smitten start that it damn near ping-pongs off your ribs.
And then you open your unfiltered mouth, "You're both so cute. You two act like you guys haven't explored each other's holes for literal years."
Their expressions slacken into ones of pained amusement immediately. "Sweets, I love you so so sooo bad, but do you ever think before you reduce years of heartfelt intimacy to digging out each other's asses?" Satoru snorts.
"Please don't say it like that," Suguru bemoans, propping one hand on his towel-wrapped hip while the other drives a thumb into his creased forehead. Even so, he's openly snickering, even moreso when he slaps Satoru's chest. "Are you under the impression that you're any better?"
Satoru touches his heart with theatrical offense. "I've never said anything outrageous as her."
"You literally just did?" Suguru points out, exasperatedly tickled.
You attempt to muster a joke to chip in with, but a yawn stretches your jaw instead, eyes watering as exhaustion overtakes any dignity you might have had left.
"Awww," Satoru breathes out an impossibly stricken coo. "She's gonna fall asleep standing up like a horse."
"I was thinking the same thing," Suguru murmurs, tilting his head at you.
"I am awake and alert and alive," you mumble automatically.
Clearly, neither of them believes you for even half a second. Suguru chuckles beneath his breath before stepping forward, large hand finding the small of your back through the towel. "Looks like the delirium's getting to you, huh, angel? You've had a long day."
Satoru immediately appears at your other side. "For sure. Let's go get dressed and go to bed." Without ceremony, he bends his knees and scoops you into his arms bridal-style as though you weigh nothing at all. You let out the weakest little noise of surprise imaginable before instinctively curling against his warm chest, your cheek finding the familiar place beneath his collarbone.
"I c-can…" Your own yawn slashes the sentence in half, making Satoru throw his head back laughing as he turns towards the bathroom's entrance, "… walk."
"Oh, sweetheart," Suguru rumbles out a laugh.
"I can,” you grumble.
"You just lost consciousness mid-sentence."
"Mmmf," you say intelligently.
Suguru reaches over to straighten the towel atop your head one final time, brushing his knuckles fondly across your temple. "So spoiled," he whispers.
You hum contentedly, already halfway to sleep. "Your fault."
"Our fault," Satoru corrects, carrying you toward the door with Suguru walking beside him, shoulder brushing his every few steps. Then, as an aside to Suguru, "To be fair, we kinda made her expect this."
"I think I deserve princess treatment everyday," you exhaustedly pipe up, words dragging as you gradually drift off.
Satoru and Suguru exchange looks over your lolling head. So cute.
why did dc decide to make vampire! Dick Grayson a bloodthirsty brother-murdering cartoon villian when the infinitely funnier, more entertaining and overall better concept of sad wet cat who is terrified of hurting other people and is lowkey feral but harmless to the people who love him vampire Dick Grayson is Right There.
Like. I need him to go have a breakdown over his newfound inhumanity only for all of the people who know him to be like “Oh Dick’s a vampire now? Cool beans.”
Like. The biggest change is the increase in bad vampire jokes
HOW DOES ONE RANDOMLY DROP A 20k FEMJO FIC YOU ARE SO GOATED 😫💕💕
I love her I’m sorry, the way she’s so doting and wants to keep Reader out of messy political affairs while barely containing her distain and jealousy for Suguru. I’d be a lot more pissy about being thrown in a tower with bare essentials and being framed at first but Reader is a fool for her and all power to her. 😮💨
I love how they both have moments where they insist that if either of them had been a man things would be more favourable, in Satoru’s case she’d be a Prince Reader would throw herself at with little hesitation and in Reader’s case she’d be a Knight to serve her Queen to protect her. Reader’s view of Satoru is beautiful too because no matter what damning thing is discovered about her she is still her Angel.
I loved this sm and a big thank you to whoever commissioned this 🙂↕️💕💕💕
omg my love this means so much wish i could squeeze u and give u a big hug :3
femjo my love she's so yummy and delicious i love the way she goes from hot to cold and how far she'll go to protect reader and keep her right in her palm
i also would've thrown a fit after being locked in a tower but reader is just as obsessed with satoru as satoru is for her lmfaooooo
they are so in love i really wanted satoru to correct her when reader tried to confess she still wished their circumstances were different and insist that she liked reader just the way she is
synopsis: you never meant to get in the middle of a marriage. but when you're caught between your beautiful best friend and the king she was forced to wed, you find your position as a maid-turned-concubine particularly challenging - especially when he begins demanding an heir from one of you. can gojo keep you all to herself? or will everything else keep getting in the way?
pairing: queen!gojo x concubine!reader (x king!geto)
wc: 20.7k
content: mdni. angst + smut, medieval setting, FEM!JO!!!, YURI YURI YURI!!!, lots of yearning and pining, intense jealousy, loathing, childhood crushes, gojo is obsessed, yandere!femjo tbh, piv sex, character death, trauma, reader is suffering, heavy angst, fear of being abandoned, cold and conniving gojo, but she's also a sweet puppy for her girl, they want each other so bad, humiliation, wrongful imprisonment, unbalanced power dynamics, master/maid relationship, use of nicknames (princess, angel), geto slander lmfao, confessions, kissing, oral sex (f! recieving), fingering, blindfolds and restraints, 69, multiple positions, happy ending
a/n: this was a commission for my incredibly lovely angel @cantarcantar + the art above is from the super talented @anniewinniie and the div is by @/tsumiinum
“Fuck, Suguru, you’re so-”
As much as Satoru enjoyed hearing your pretty little pants and moans, she was rather sick of hearing you whine his name instead of hers.
But of course, even if she was the queen, what could she do when you were her husband’s concubine?
“Someone’s going to hear you, pretty,” he wryly replied, and she could practically hear the smirk in his honeyed voice, syrupy sweet just for you.
Blegh.
She held in her gag, grimacing at his deep grunt.
Satoru parted the thick vines concealing your not-so-secret garden hideaway. Tucked behind flowering bushes, forget-me-not covered trellises, a blanket was spread out on the green grass of your hidden nook as Suguru fucked you right there, your dress bunched up above your hips as he greedily plunged his ridiculously oversized cock inside you.
Where was the patience?
The preparation?
Treating you like a princess rather than rutting into you like some ruthless animal?
Satoru felt her mouth twitch down, heart freezing as she found herself slipping through the gap in the trellises, forcing herself to slyly smile as she interrupted the scene.
“Suguru,” she called out, keeping her voice airy and calm as she condescendingly looked down at your bodies tangled together. Containing the cold anger that had sunk its claws into her heart as she cleared her throat, sucking in a slow breath, “Your advisor is looking for you.”
Her husband threw an annoyed look over his shoulder, dark bangs falling in his face as his soft purple eyes hardened into a scowl.
“He can wait,” he grimaced, as if to say, so can you.
But Satoru could be just as stubborn.
“I heard it’s about a rather important matter,” she lied, shrugging her shoulders as the skirt of her finely embroidered dress swung and shifted by her feet.
“I will be finished in just a-”
“We can always continue when you return,” you reassured him, brushing his bangs back out of his face and biting down on your glossy bottom lip.
You knew your place.
Content to be that knave’s concubine, free for him to use whenever he pleased. Unbothered no matter how many times he expected you to wait and adhere to his whims when he should be doing his damndest to make your every wish come true.
Satoru despised it. Detested the infuriating way her husband took and wasted every ounce of your attention.
You were her best friend first.
“Fine,” Suguru hissed, hesitantly pulling out of you but not before throwing Satoru a heated glare.
“I can keep your concubine company,” she smiled, blue eyes sparkling with satisfaction as Suguru unceremoniously shoved his cock back inside his pants, storming past her to go off and search for an advisor who was likely already tucked into his bed.
He would just come back for you once he figured it out.
But by then, Satoru was sure she could kill the mood enough that he wouldn’t get to have you tonight.
Not without her in the room.
“I’m sorry,” you softly apologized once he was gone, hastily pulling your dress down, embarrassed that she’d seen you so exposed.
As if it wasn’t the first time.
She was well aware of her husband’s preference for you to not wear any undergarments when he was planning on seeing you. Had walked in on the two of you in their marital bed more times than she could count.
At first, she thought it was better you than her.
Held no interest in having sex with him herself or making any heirs, no matter how much the court tried to convince her that it was necessary.
Why would she ruin her body for a man she could barely stand? Who she was forced into a political marriage with?
Lately?
She was growing tempted to just take her clothes off and offer herself up if it meant Suguru would go a single day without insisting on having sex with you. Even if she’d be resisting the urge to gag and roll her eyes at every one of his groans.
“I’ll return to my chambers, Your Majesty,” you respectfully murmured, averting your gaze with faint shame creeping into your fair features. You were trying to not make this strange or strained, smoothing out your dress as you pushed your palms off the blanket.
“How many times must I ask you to call me Toru, hm?” She teased, breaking the tension with an easy laugh.
It used to be breezy to be around you.
Before he snatched you from her grip.
Back when you were both girls growing up together, as a princess and her maid. Your delicate hands brushing her hair and working all the knots out with nimble fingers at the end of every day, chatting about the scullery gossip before Satoru would pull you into the blankets and demand that you sleep next to her.
To keep the nightmares away.
Everyone always let Satoru do what she wanted.
Except for having you.
Sure, she could drag you around, take you everywhere she went, but instead of simply being hers, you were more of an accessory.
The most you could be was a maid. A servant.
Not a lover.
Satoru tried to be content with that. Truly.
Accepted it from an early age that you weren’t going to be hers when she was destined for a political relationship and your stare often lingered a little too long on knights instead of ladies.
She told herself that at least she got to bring you along to this palace to be by her side for this marriage, but the moment Suguru saw you standing next to her, he stole you.
Made you his concubine within the week, put you in your own room and dolled you up in gowns and gems. Satoru had been sneaking blue dresses in your new closet, replacing the jewel tones and purples with the shades of the sky, of the ocean rather than the rich hues he had such a proclivity for.
But it didn’t make much of a difference when you were tending to him now instead of her.
“Toru,” you said her name so sweetly, chewing the inside of your cheek now as you reluctantly met her stare. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“You are not the one who should apologize,” she exhaled, shrugging her shoulders as she walked over to where you were sheepishly staring at the blooming flowers.
Skimming a delicate hand over your arm, appreciating the warmth of your skin as she stopped just shy of your shoulder, tracing a little heart with the edge of her thumb as she soothed you.
“Come with me,” she murmured.
Your head snapped up, your eyes wavering and wide. Unsure. “Where?”
“My room,” Satoru hummed. “Like old times.”
Back when the only hands that ever had the fortune to brush over your body were hers. When you belonged solely to Satoru.
Funnily enough, you were still sleeping in her bed. Just with her husband.
What would she have to do to keep his calloused palms off her prize?
“Are you sure Suguru will be-”
“No man would complain about two beautiful women in his sheets,” she rolled her eyes, interlocking arms with you and pulling you forward.
It wasn’t exactly true.
Suguru would have plenty to grit his teeth and groan about when he wouldn’t get the chance to put his dick inside of you.
But you were naive enough to not realize that, smiling back at Satoru the way you used to, leaning against her arm and sighing with relief, relaxing once it struck you that she wasn’t upset with you.
“I’m not nearly as beautiful as you,” you wistfully mumbled under your breath, and Satoru’s heart soared. Pale cheeks heating up at your compliment, squeezing you reflexively as she laughed.
She knew she was beautiful. Blessed by the gods in nearly every aspect from the moment she was born.
But even when they had given her a face any male would love, they had cursed her with a heart that could only belong to a female.
To you.
Had been stamped with your name and sealed to be yours from the first day she found you.
It wasn’t fucking fair that Suguru got to just reap everything she sowed.
Got to be the one inside you, on top of you, beside you. Who could just openly want you with no repercussions.
If his smug smirks and sly remarks weren’t enough for her to loathe him, Satoru still would have hated him for that fact alone.
“I think you are far lovelier than any of these lousy flowers,” Satoru spoke softly, tilting her head around the garden she’d grown to only feel disgust for too.
It had been beautiful at first. A work of art she’d taken to walking the winding paths through in the evenings to calm her chaotic mind when the two of you first came here.
But all it had taken was to walk in on Suguru mounting you on a patio table the third week in for every last petal and blossom of this place to become tainted.
He was making a fucking fool of her.
Freely flaunting how much he adored fucking you wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted.
No doubt she wasn’t the first to catch the two of you.
“You flatter me,” you blushed, turning away from her as you picked up the pace.
You already knew the way back to her marital room.
Even if she wasn’t the one you usually came there for.
Satoru had separate chambers, of course, ones that were made solely for her, but she knew that Suguru would retaliate in some petty fashion if she brought you there instead.
“I am merely being honest,” Satoru hummed, lips curling up in an easy smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
She knew you well enough to know you were too embarrassed to respond. That you weren’t truly taking her seriously.
Shouldn’t you know by now that the only person she saved her sincerity for was you?
“I find myself missing you more and more,” Satoru slowly added, heart thumping so hard she was sure it would somehow end up lodged in her throat as you looked back at her with those big, apologetic eyes.
Guilt-ridden.
Weighed down by the obvious worry you carried for fucking her husband.
“I miss you too,” you murmured quietly, lip curling up in your best attempt at a smile before it immediately fell again.
“You seem tired,” Satoru observed, reaching over with her free hand to brush the hair away from your face. Treasuring the few seconds her fingertips skimmed across your soft cheeks. “Let’s get some rest.”
“But Suguru-”
“Do me a favor,” she purred, offering her most reassuring grin. “Do not worry about him.”
She could deal with it.
It was worth whatever trouble would come to watch you trade your dress for one of her silky blue nightslips, staring at the bare expanse of your exposed back as you bent over to shimmy it on, holding her breath as you turned around, looking absolutely delectable.
The sweetest dessert she could ever dream of.
And the only one she wasn’t allowed to taste.
“Do you want me to do your hair?” You asked, fiddling with your fingers as you nervously looked around the room.
Satoru wished she could wipe your anxieties away.
“I would never say no to that,” she said instead, putting up a far more carefree front than she truly felt.
Perching on the edge of the stool of her vanity, passing you her hairbrush as you slowly pulled all of her long, silky white strands back over her shoulder. You took your time brushing it out, carefully separating it as you went and making sure there were no tangles before you slowly began to braid it, nimble fingers working to twist the parted hair.
She could see your reflection in the mirror, the way you bit your kiss-swollen bottom lip, brows pinched together tightly in focus as your practiced hands made an easy job of it.
“There you go,” you hummed once you finished, tying a white ribbon at the end as you looked in the mirror back at her. “Do you like it?”
“I like everything you do,” Satoru replied on instinct.
Except for Suguru.
Your face flushed, smiling as you stepped back away from her, glancing over to the bed.
“Good night then,” you muttered.
“Good night,” Satoru replied, shoving down the lump in her throat as she tried to discreetly dry her clammy palms on her own nightdress as she stood up. Snuffing out a few of the candles so that the only light was from the flickering fire, crawling into bed after you, pretending to be unaffected by your proximity as she got under the sheets next to your body.
But she wasn’t quite as good at it as she used to be.
Unable to slow her breathing, chest rising and falling far too fast as you tossed and turned, the short hem of the slip riding up on your thighs under the covers as Satoru desperately stared at the ceiling of her four-poster bed and ignored the heat ignited in her core.
A steady pulse, an irritating throb straight to the center of her, speeding up each time your leg brushed against hers, or your hand accidentally grazed along her arm.
“Sweet dreams,” she belatedly whispered, but you had already fallen asleep, soon snoring on one of her pillows like you once did so long ago, hair sprawling out that Satoru couldn’t stop herself from softly stroking.
Her pretty maid, right where she belonged once more.
But for how long?
When would Suguru do something that would fully free you of her?
God, what the fuck was she going to do if he knocked you up? Forced you to bear his heir? Make you raise a whole brood of miniature hims?
That asshole would surely move you to a separate palace, maybe claim that Satoru made threats or something equally absurd to justify giving you a title or some security.
Satoru refused to let any of that happen.
You were more than just a breeding mare.
More than just a pawn to be played with – no matter what her husband attempted to turn you into.
Like she summoned a demon, the door swung open, and Satoru immediately removed her hand from by your head, sitting up in bed to stare at the intruder.
The real interloper here.
Suguru scowled at the sight of her next to you, his lips pressing in a thin line as he peeled off his expensive robe.
“Return to your private chambers,” he dismissed, irritation heavy in his voice.
“This marital bed is mine too,” Satoru retorted, patting the spot next to her to gesture for him to join.
She’d prefer not to spend the night suffering the masculine scent of his cologne, but she supposed she could just roll closer to you to inhale your much sweeter smell. It was always light, flowery, like some intoxicating summer bloom she wanted to pluck and preserve.
He laughed at the idea of sleeping together too, a low and cruel one.
Satoru wanted to snarl back that if she were a man, if they were both vying for your hand, you would have chosen her without a blink.
But she just had to bite her tongue and stare at the one person who had everything she wanted.
“Funny that I only find you in here when it’s with her,” he knowingly scoffed.
“Is it?” Satoru feigned ignorance. “I was the one who brought her here.”
Her husband didn’t care though.
No, he just walked over as if she had no place in this room, no right to her spot in the bed beside you, stripping his shirt off before removing his pants, as if a little bit of nudity would scare Satoru off.
“What do you think our love would do if she knew you lusted after her even more than I do?” Suguru mocked, barely making an effort to disguise his thinly-veiled threat. One corner of that irritating mouth of his curling up in a crude smirk, casually dismissing the weight of her affection for you to a simple sin.
His love?
Satoru almost laughed back at him.
You were hers. Had always been.
And would be once again.
“Shall I tell her?” He asked, tilting his head towards your sleeping figure as he pulled back the blankets to get in too.
“She would think it’s just a jest,” Satoru rolled her eyes, her nose scrunching up as he actually got in next to her.
It didn’t matter how obvious she made it to you.
You were blissfully unaware.
Clueless to the hunger she harbored in her heart to chain you to her.
“I suppose we’ll find out soon,” he muttered under his breath, and despite the shield she’d prepared, it splintered with sheer panic at the thought of you taking his word.
At the risk of you being repulsed by the realization, rejecting her and refusing to exist in the same space for the rest of her life.
That wouldn’t do.
Suguru was already a persistent problem.
But now it appeared she had no choice but to solve it before he could screw her over. Before he could wreck what she’d spent so long building.
She’d prefer to prepare a guillotine for his cock, to punish him for the crime of being inside you, but she refused to be the one put in prison for it.
No, Satoru needed a plan. A foolproof way for this to end with you in her arms.
Perhaps some poison to put His Royal Majesty in a grave while she was at it.
ε✿з
“Morning, beautiful.”
You wondered who your king’s groggy morning voice was meant for. You?
Or his wife?
Your true master.
“Good morning, husband,” Satoru replied, her usually sweet voice cold and clipped.
Of course.
You weren’t exactly surprised.
But what did throw you off was the two very different arms strewn across your waist, one thick and muscled slung low towards your hips while the other far daintier one was delicately tangled just below your breasts.
Somehow, you had ended up in between them.
Rather fitting, wasn’t it?
“I wasn’t speaking to you,” Suguru scolded her, and your stomach just curdled at the annoyance in his tone.
The weight on your midsection disappeared, and you tried to roll on your side, to pretend you were still asleep, but then he was pulling you against him, and you could only bite the inside of your cheek and focus on the taste of blood on your tongue to hold it together as something hefty and hard pressed into your spine.
It was just wrong to do this in front of Satoru.
You didn’t understand what Suguru saw in you anyway.
It wasn’t like you truly were stunning. Not compared to her.
You weren’t blind.
You’d always been rather plain put next to Satoru’s perfect face.
She was the one people stopped to stare at when she walked in a room, the subject of whispers and wishes and fools willing fate to just give them a single chance for the pleasure of one conversation in her presence.
And beneath her beauty was the sort of one-of-a-kind soul someone could spend the rest of their life searching for.
Even now, when you were sleeping with her husband, she was still being sweet to you.
Swearing that she knew you couldn’t do anything about being his concubine, bringing you back to her bed for a sleepover like she hadn’t caught you having sex with him.
You didn’t deserve her. And you really couldn’t comprehend why Suguru wouldn’t want her.
Yet, she always tried to spare your feelings.
Sent away any maid who mocked you and scolded any staff member that attempted to tease you ever since you were children.
Going from dismissing any knight that tried to flirt or feel you up as teenagers to stripping some lower noble of her rank simply for speaking ill of you two weeks ago over suggesting that she should punish you for trying to steal her husband.
You hadn’t asked for any of it.
All you wanted was to watch her fall in love. To stand by her side and see her find her happily ever after.
Instead, you were embroiled in an affair with the man she married.
And now the guilt was gnawing through your bones, shame shattering you every time she saw you with him.
You sort of felt like your life could be divided in two groups.
Before Satoru. After Satoru.
She saved you. You were born into servitude, to parents who worked in the worst kind of noble homes. The ones where the money was passed down with generations, belonging to spoiled gamblers and drunks who didn’t know how to do anything other than spend it — and couldn’t care less about their staff members.
You learned how to scrub baseboards and sweep instead of how to read and write. To never speak unless spoken to. To make yourself smaller than a speck of dust just to survive.
It didn’t matter.
They had a son a year older than you.
One that was particularly fond of pulling your hair and ripping up your uniforms every time you hung them out to dry.
Who found a passion in pushing you down and pretending to his family that you had committed every variety of petty crimes against him.
Your life was a living hell.
Until your angel showed up.
In a pretty white dress that matched her soft hair, the sun shining on her pale face as she blinked down at you with big, blue eyes. She was visiting with her parents, supposed to be attending a play date with your personal tormentor, only to walk in on him attempting to cut off a chunk of your hair with a knife he’d stolen from the chef.
He had accidentally cut you with it, a thin streak of blood trickling down your throat as you sobbed hysterically, unable to stop yourself as you curled up against the tree he cornered you against.
“Drop that,” she commanded, an air of authority to her even when she was still a child.
He did, even though his obedience seemed to surprise him.
“You’re not the boss of-”
She was already stepping forward though, kicking the knife away before graciously approaching you, unbothered by the sniffing mess you’d become, just squatting down and drying your tears with her sleeve.
“You’re coming home with me.”
And you did.
She had half-dragged you inside, forcing herself to fake tears of her own before crying to her parents that he had attacked her, and that you’d gotten hurt defending her.
They believed her lie.
And she bought you from the hellhole you were born into.
You would probably be dead without her.
Starved or beaten for not performing your duties well enough, discarded like some cheap possession instead of a person.
The boy was punished, his family’s status revoked — although you never learned what happened to them after that.
At least with Satoru, you could be her doll.
Someone she dressed up and dragged around to tea parties and meals, forcing everyone to have a chair for you like it was normal for a mere maid to dine with royalty.
She grew out of it when she got a little older, when people began to look down on you for her behavior instead of her.
But when they announced her marriage, she still refused to go unless she brought you with her, insisting that she wouldn’t adapt without a familiar face before whispering to you in private that she’d never leave her favorite friend behind.
Did she regret that now? Wish she never took you in to begin with?
You felt like a nuisance.
It was impossible to ignore the whispers of the court here, the constant discussion of the heir that didn’t currently exist.
All of it felt like your fault.
Surely, if you weren’t here, if you weren’t imposing, then Satoru might have already gotten pregnant, or perhaps have even had a child already.
As far as you knew, they had yet to even consummate their marriage.
You used to whisper about what it would be like to have sex. So sure that she would be the one to experience it first. Giggling under the covers about how the whole thing seemed sorta gross. To let a guy stick it inside of you and listen to him grunt and groan?
Honestly, you never thought it would be you giving up your virtue before her.
Sugugu hadn’t been shy about the fact you were the only one he was intimate with.
Turning his nose up and scoffing when you inquired about the status of their relationship, the same way Satoru did, as if it was simply absurd that they could ever have a baby together.
And now his royal advisors had started whispering suggestions that he should plant his seed in you instead, murmuring that if Satoru was too stubborn, he must secure his line another way as if you weren’t in the same room when they said it.
As if your loyalty hadn’t always lied with her.
But she wouldn’t listen to your warnings.
How were you supposed to convince two people who acted like they couldn’t stand each other to not only have sex, but create a child?
You knew you were a fool. Naive to still presume that there must be some way to make this work without making Satoru suffer. But you couldn’t stop trying.
“I would like you to leave,” Suguru snapped at her, and years of experience had engrained the instant impulse to protect her in you.
To interrupt and insist that she had every right to be here too.
Even if Satoru had never once needed you to defend her. Not the same way you needed her.
“Will you drag me out if I do not?” She cheekily returned, and you finally forced yourself to start to stir, to stop the argument already in progress as they both immediately fell silent. Satoru’s soft hand skimmed over your forearm, delicately dragging her fingertips up to your shoulder before yawning, “Good morning, sleepyhead.”
“Morning,” you muttered, slowly cracking your eyes open and beginning to sit up just for a second hand to shift to the small of your back.
“Did she bother you with all her tossing and turning?” Your king asked, concern veiling his contempt for his wife as he peered down at you with those dark purple eyes. Devoid of the light you were used to seeking, swirling with something you weren’t quite comfortable enough to name.
Sometimes, you wondered how much he wanted you, and how much he wanted to piss her off. Equally unhappy at the situation he’d been thrusted in, forced to marry a stranger he didn’t know or want and finding refuge in pissing off the one person that was also innocent in this. Taking it out on her instead when he had no way to punish the system he was stuck in.
“Satoru never bothers me,” you answered honestly, still doing your best to mend the bridge between them as you peered up at him with an expression you hoped would earn some empathy from him.
Or at the very least, get him to not toss her out before she even stepped foot out of the bed.
“You’re too sweet,” he muttered, sitting up straighter to let the blankets fall down around his bare waist. Tenderly caressing your cheek as you stilled, thinking of what he seemed to leave unsaid. Too sweet for whom? Him? Or her?
You supposed you were just overthinking it, blinking nervously before he leaned down to kiss you on the lips right there in front of her, pushing his tongue in as you tried not to scrunch your nose up at the thought that he had yet to brush his teeth before slipping his tongue in your mouth.
But you returned it, accustomed to going with the tides instead of swimming against them, allowing him to possessively splay his fingers across your back as if Satoru’s fingers weren’t still sinking into your shoulder.
And by the time he pulled away, you had collected yourself enough to smile sincerely back at him when he rested his forehead against yours.
It wasn’t that you disliked him, or harbored any hatred for him.
The feeling swirling in your stomach was closer to pity. You felt bad for him.
He felt like a flip side to Satoru. Reminded you of her in his own strange way when he spoke to you like you were more than just a maid. Even if he only saw you as his own accessory instead of hers.
“Meet me in the gardens at noon,” he instructed, slipping out of his bed as you both stared. His back muscles flexed as he bent over, only throwing a look back to wink at you while Satoru made a quiet gagging noise next to you.
You nearly giggled, only holding it in when his dark brows pinched together in a glare back at her.
“Of course, Your Majesty,” you murmured, nodding dutifully as his chest puffed back out with pride. Finishing redressing quickly, his mouth twitching down at the two of you in his bed, but he didn’t say anything to disprove Satoru’s theory about men and beautiful women.
“Alone,” Suguru added, starting towards the door before Satoru could add something snarky.
The moment he was out the door, you could hear his voice calling through it for a servant, and you already pictured the way a few were likely stationed at the end of the hall, ready to accompany him and do whatever he wanted.
“Meet me in the gardens,” Satoru mimicked him, rolling her bright blue eyes as her long lashes fluttered dramatically as she twisted you back around to face her. “He’s so insufferable.”
“Satoru,” you said her name, face heating up at the way the syllables felt rolling off your tongue, still strange to address her so intimately when she was so far above you. “It worries me-”
“No,” she interrupted you sternly, your shoulders slumping at her unexpected scolding. “There is nothing for you to worry about.”
“But the two of you-”
“I know,” she sympathized, knowing what you were about to protest before you had to say it. Seeing through all of you the way no one else ever did, or probably ever would. “But you should just keep doing what he asks.”
Like you couldn’t see how much it hurt her to even suggest that.
Satoru was more sensitive than she’d ever show. Feelings hidden under her carefully crafted shield, always pretending to be the perfect princess on her towering pedestal, protected by some impenetrable glass that never let you touch her.
She could say she couldn’t stand Suguru. But who wouldn’t be hurt at the man they married so blatantly disrespecting them?
“I just want you to be happy,” you softly said.
“I will be. Eventually,” Satoru stiffly said, dragging her thumb over your bottom lip like she was wiping off his kiss. “We just have to grin and bear it for now.”
“And things will get better?” You hopefully asked, reaching up to clasp her hand. Feeling a little bit like a child again, looking up to her with blind trust, faith that she could fix problems that seemed far too big for you. Imagining all three of you a few months from now, getting along and grinning over lunch in the garden, sitting underneath the shade of an umbrella and snacking with Satoru on one side and Suguru on the other.
“I promise they will.”
There was nothing you craved more than for her to be correct.
But your blind belief in her started to fizzle and fade when the days refused to stop dragging on while you rarely got to see her. Only catching glimpses of her from across the room, usually when one of you was being flaunted on Suguru’s arm and the other was left to stand on the side and stare. Barely getting a chance to speak to her when the king you were both supposed to obey had decided you were better kept in your bed chambers or his private office, away from the wife he pretended didn’t exist around you.
You tried to tell yourself what she had.
To just bear it.
Comforting yourself with the handful of smiles she snuck you, reassuring yourself that you didn’t have to be wracked with guilt every second you spent with Suguru. That you shouldn’t hate yourself for the moments with him where you found yourself actually enjoying his company, or genuinely giggling at a joke he made.
It didn’t make it easier to stop loathing the parts of you that liked the attention. Being doted on and deemed deserving of more than just the monotony of being a maid.
Underneath it all, you still knew what was coming.
A girl like you was only measured by what uses she was good for.
Could taste his expectation in the air long before Suguru delivered the curdling news over tea, sitting there like a brainless doll as he informed you that he had the maids brew the kind that helped fertility.
Casually suggesting that you make a fine mother as you feigned agreement, running off to a bush to throw it up the moment he left to attend to other business.
You couldn’t do that to her.
No, you wouldn’t.
You refused.
It wasn’t like you had any idea how you would refuse, not when you were sure he would be back in your bedroom tonight. Stripping off his robes with that easy smirk of his, placing his crown on your head as he buried his cock in you, probably already planning on no longer pulling out but plunging himself deep enough to make sure the seed he planted was sowed.
That it would sprout into an heir he could use as an excuse to remove any power his wife politically held.
You puked again.
Bile rising that you couldn’t push down, getting sick until you finally managed to suck in enough deep breaths to pull yourself together, wiping the corner of your mouth and standing back up on trembling legs, looking around to make sure no one had seen you.
But a few maids were standing nearby, wide-eyed and whispering to each other before scampering off in a hurry once your stare caught theirs, surely off to spread rumors about what they’d seen.
You were stumbling away too, walking back inside the cobbled halls and hurrying through the twists and turns, ignoring the pointed looks you received from staff members and guards passing by. You weren’t sure where you were going until you were there, nervously tapping your knuckles against the door to Satoru’s office, hardly able to keep your breathing steady until you heard her call out in an annoyed tone, “Come in.”
You pushed it open, holding your breath as you peeked inside to see her head hanging down behind her desk. Her cheek resting on her hand, silky hair falling around her shoulders as she sighed and scribbled something into a thick book.
“What is it-”
“I’m sorry,” you half-whispered, your voice coming out as a croak from your sore throat.
She immediately stopped what she was writing as her head snapped up at the realization it was you, shutting the book and placing her palm over it. Her blue eyes were razor sharp, freezing over in a flash under furrowed brows.
“What happened?” She demanded to know without a pause. Ready to go to war with just two words.
“He wants me to have his heir,” you blurted out, still panicking as you looked to her like there was something she could do about it.
In all the years you’d known her, the only other time you’d seen the expression that was on her face now was the day you first met her.
Focused and flat at the same time, not betraying anything as she just blinked at you once more.
“Tell me you don’t want it,” she requested, completely serious as you struggled to tear your stare away.
“Of course I don’t,” you answered, shaking your head as your fingers nervously clutched at the skirt of your dress, fiddling with some of the fine embroidery as you struggled to catch your breath, the taste of vomit lingering in your mouth as you thought about what your life would look like a year from now if you did. A black-haired baby on your hip and a hole punctured straight through your heart.
You almost added that you had only come here for her, but you couldn’t bring yourself to when all that had resulted in was you warming her husband’s bed.
What would her life have been like had you stayed behind? Would you have been kicked out of the palace you’d spent years by her side in? Left to start over in some quaint village, maybe starting a small farm or working in a local shop instead?
You would choose any of it over being the reason she was suffering. Even if it meant struggling and scraping by all alone.
“I will take care of it,” she stiffly said, her nose upturned in the air as she pushed a plate of cookies someone had left on her desk away from her. “You should go now.”
A piece of you shattered.
Some deep internal wound ripping open at her quick dismissal, despite your instinct to believe that her words were more binding than any oath.
“But-”
“Trust me, princess,” she softened her tone, smiling now, like you couldn’t see how tight of a line her mouth made. Using a nickname she hadn’t called you in years, back when she tried to make you feel better about the difference in your status, late night promises that you could be her princess and she could be yours.
“Toru,” you murmured back, watching her eyes crinkle for a second before she shook her hair and pointed a delicate finger towards the door.
“Please leave,” she asked, and you had never been good at disobeying her.
Feeling like a mutt that had been thrown out in the rain, tail tucked between your legs as you walked all the way across the palace to your own chambers. Pacing the floor there in a panic, wringing your hands and wearing out the carpet as you tried to think of some solution.
Stupid nobles and their moronic obsession with bloodlines.
Why couldn’t they just adopt a child and raise it correctly?
You would have his child if Satoru asked you to. If she said she didn’t want to do it herself.
But you were scared for her. Terrified that she would somehow end up thrown out if you had an heir and she refused to.
Maybe it would be easier if one of them were less stubborn. If Satoru was less prideful and Suguru more agreeable.
Was that asking for the impossible?
Just an idiot jammed between a rock and a hard place and wondering why you couldn’t squeeze out?
You prepared yourself that evening anyway, going through the motions of putting on the thin style nightdress Suguru preferred, but picking one in a soft shade of blue that reminded you more of Satoru. Carefully applying a thin layer of makeup, exhaling at your reflection as you wondered to yourself where the girl from a few years ago had gone.
She probably would have strangled you for suggesting sleeping with Satoru’s king, no matter the circumstance.
And right now, you would give just about anything to go back to those days. Where the most important thing you had to worry about was how to style Satoru’s hair the next day, or what would be served for breakfast in the morning.
“You’re wearing blue.”
Your head turned to find Suguru standing there in the doorway, his lips turned down as his hazy stare slid over your body. You hurried to stand, forgoing spritzing the fancy perfume he gifted you across your skin as he strode over to you. Ready to fake moans and feign devotion.
“Is this not one you gave me?” You innocently asked, tilting your head to the side.
It wasn’t like you could purchase your own dresses.
Truthfully, you had no idea what even happened to the funds you saved up before Satoru brought you here. She had said she would take care of the transfer, but within days of coming here, you were being whisked off your feet and away from her by the man in front of you now.
“I guess it doesn’t matter,” he muttered, his fingers plucking one of the straps off your shoulder and pulling it down with a sigh as he ignored your inquiry. “I’m taking it off of you anyway.”
His hands shook while he removed it, his fingers unsteady for once as he tried to shimmy your panties down your thighs next. He kissed you, but the sour taste of wine was still on his lips, and you ached to pull away.
To ask him to reconsider what he wanted from you.
Even if you knew that wasn’t your place.
To your surprise though, he retreated first, your mouth still hanging open as he let out a low groan. You knew something was wrong at the sound of it. How guttural it came out when you hadn’t even touched his cock yet.
You blinked up at him only to see red.
Blood dripped down his lips as he stared at you without really seeing you, fear glittering his dark eyes empty in the candlelight as your own fingers reached out to wipe it away. Had you bitten him without realizing it? Was he hurt?
Before you could even touch it, he coughed hard, and your face was suddenly wet.
Your hand was still outstretching towards him the moment he collapsed.
Someone screamed, but it wasn’t until servants began running into the room that you realized the horrible sound was coming from you, ripped from the back of your throat as the scene immediately morphed into a mess. Maids shouting for doctors and rushing around to try and stop the bleeding that was still pouring from his mouth, propping him up. But even if his eyes were open, they weren’t blinking.
Had his soul already separated from the still shell he left behind?
Something damp hit your palm, your fuzzy vision struggling to focus as it belatedly struck you that you were still dripping with the red, your palms shaking, refusing to stop twitching at the unnerving sight of it.
Steady drops begging to drop down to your bare breasts, staining your skin as you stumbled back, running from the inevitable as your shattered gasps wouldn’t allow enough air into your lungs.
This wasn’t happening.
It couldn’t be.
This must be a nightmare. Some awful dream you’d gotten dragged into as you tried to wake yourself back up, desperately wiping your face as you struggled to get it clean, but nothing was working. Nothing was changing.
Hyperventilating as a maid shouted, calling in guards while your back hit the wall, your fingers trembling as you buried your face in your hands, as if you could hide from what was happening.
“Is he still alive?”
No. No no no.
If he was gone, what the hell would happen to you?
There were too many people in the room, too much going on for you to focus on what was happening in front of you. Your ears filling you in no matter how much you desperately wanted to shut it all out.
To rewind the clock, even if it was just for a few minutes. Bring it back to where everything was still normal.
The palace doctor arrived out of breath as you peeked back up at your world unraveling only to find him shaking his head as he checked the limp body on the floor’s pulse.
You knew it before he said it though. Had from the moment he coughed and collapsed.
“The king is dead.”
The only person in power now was his wife.
Someone was probably on their way to get Satoru now, to shake her awake from her bed and notify her that her husband was no longer among the living.
Even if you didn’t want to have his baby, you still never would have chosen this.
Curling up with your bare knees to your chest, staring at your blood-splattered blue nightdress left in a crumpled pile on the floor, eyes wild as you watched people rush in and out.
Guards filing in, one of them ripping you up from off the ground with a rough grip on your arm, barking some question you didn’t understand as you tried to shake your head, dragging you out of the room as you got one last glimpse at Suguru’s still form staring up at the ceiling.
“Did you do this?”
“What?” You blinked, turning back with disgust as you rebuffed it. “I-I wouldn’t-”
The guard wasn’t listening, pulling you out only for you to nearly run into someone else.
Your pounding heart stopped the second you realized it was Satoru.
Her pretty face pinched up with disdain, long hair loose and cascading down her back, an intricate amethyst-colored gown draping over the cobbled hall as she looked down at you, her mouth twitching as her gaze drifted across your exposed skin.
You were about to beg her to tell them that it couldn’t have been you, bottom lip trembling as you tried to get the words out, but she cut you off, looking to the knight by her side as she solemnly shook her head.
“Lock her up.”
She couldn’t mean it.
It honestly felt more far-fetched than Suguru’s sudden death. Unable to understand those three sharp words that left her lips until another man was yanking you away, pulling you down corridors.
Humiliation burned through you as the initial shock started to fade and the reality of your situation began to sit in. Being dragged naked across the palace until you were led up a long spiralling staircase to a tower you’d never stepped foot inside before.
Spared the cruelty of the cold dungeons only to be shoved inside a tiny room at the top, a heavy door slammed shut as your eyes struggled to adjust to the darkness surrounding you. A barren space with only a small bed pushed against the wall, a small window that was only big enough for you to peek out of, the bitter night breeze blowing in through it as you stood there, waiting for, well, you weren’t sure what.
Satoru to show up and swear this was all some awful joke? To tell you that she didn’t mean to scare you and that everything was fine? That this was all a part of some plan of hers?
Wishful thinking, wasn’t it?
If they thought you were responsible, that you somehow killed him, you would be executed within a month.
Maybe not even offered a trial, just dragged out to be hanged or beheaded without a chance to defend yourself.
Who would have sympathy for a traitor?
A poor maid masquerading as a concubine, one who truly should have never had a place beneath the king to begin with.
All you were was an ignorant idiot that was born to take the blame. No matter your innocence.
And yet, when you finally heard footsteps approaching your lonely room, you were still rushing towards it, ready to plead your case to whoever showed up.
When you heard Satoru’s voice, you nearly sobbed.
She must be coming to let you out. To explain everything away and bring you back to her room the way she once had. Whisk you away and remind you with that charming smile that she had told you not to worry.
Satoru wasn’t your knight in shining armor. She was better.
A hero with her white-haired halo, your blue-eyed angel in a gossamer gown.
“Toru, please,” you called out, peeking up to discover a rectangle carved out of the thick wood of the door, wide enough for you to look back out into the barely-lit hallway.
“Make sure no one comes up here,” Satoru coldly instructed the knights outside, your heart stalling as you stared at her through that thin slat. The heavy click of several additional locks followed while her sharp eyes watched you back, your heart shattering into even tinier bits with each one.
And then Satoru did something that stomped on all the remaining shards of it.
She left.
You broke down, sobbing on the floor until there wasn’t anything left in you to cry out. Curling up on the frigid ground instead of the bed, unable to even summon the strength to get up and crawl towards it.
At some point, you supposed you fell asleep like that, because when you woke up to a fraction of the sun slipping in through your tiny window, there were clothes and food delivered, along with a cold bucket of water and a washrag.
Too numb to feel thankful, as if someone had scooped every part of you out as you ignored the food in front of you, about to cup a handful of water and drink it before you looked down at your hands and saw all the dried blood still staining them, your stomach shifting once again as the memory of Suguru’s face before he died floated up in your brain.
You scrubbed your skin, washing Suguru off of you until the bucket had run red, staring at the liquid sloshing around. Refusing to stop until you were certain there were no traces of him left, your hands raw and trembling when you dropped the rag back down.
Putting clothes back on didn’t make you feel any better.
Not when you had traded the fancy dresses you had just begun to get used to for a plain one, the material scratching your skin as you finally managed to get yourself up into the bed.
But even just trying to go back to sleep didn’t work when a knight came barging in to conduct an interrogation.
Which essentially just meant hours of him asking the same questions and getting angry when you kept giving him the same answers?
“Did you conspire to kill the king?” No.
“Did you poison him?” No.
“Did you have any reason to want him dead?” Yes. No.
It didn’t matter what you said though.
As long as it didn’t align with what he was hoping to hear, he wouldn’t give any of your words credence.
And by the end of it, you were being dragged back to your cell, waiting for a fate far worse than simply being the mother of the future heir to the kingdom.
Even if you used to think there was nothing worse than betraying Satoru.
Being abandoned by her was the cruelest sentence of all.
A raw throbbing ache taking up residence in your chest, reminding you of her absence with every short breath you sucked in, no blankets to curl up and hide under as you waited for the inevitable.
You knew what the cold felt like. How brittle it could be when it settled into your bones. Knew how starvation felt when your body started to break down bits of yourself for sustenance.
But knowing her warmth, how full she could make you feel, only ate at you more. Shoved off the pretty pedestal she placed you on, no longer sparkling or polished as you stared at your bitten-down nails and numbly craved pieces of her you knew would never be yours.
Perhaps this was punishment for dreaming too big.
For ever thinking that you could have her while you were still catering to Suguru.
A day passed.
And another.
The hours slipping past you in a dull daze, food delivered that you refused to take a bite of. A little voice in your head that was quickly growing delirious suggested that it could be poisoned, and it was the only thing that tempted you into taking a small bite.
But then you thought of the fear in Suguru’s eyes when he died, and you dropped it again, returning to your uncomfortable bed, curling up to stare at the same wall you’d been studying the cracks in since you first crawled into it.
You were losing it.
About to start speaking to yourself just to stop the silence from driving you crazy, only your thoughts to keep you company as you tossed and turned, no energy left in your exhausted limbs as you tried to think of all the ways this could end.
Unable to come up with a way out of this when the only person you ever found worth living for had decided you weren’t worth it anymore.
Satoru had told you to trust her.
But you never had anything to offer her other than loyalty.
And what good was that when you would’ve had her husband’s baby if he hadn’t died?
She must hate you.
“Oh, princess.”
Great.
You had lost it.
Were you hearing things now? Sanity slipping away with every day you decided not to eat?
“Won’t you at least look at me?” Satoru’s sweet voice called out to you.
You weren't going to, stubbornly keeping your head forward until you heard the locks actually unlatching. Sitting up on the thin mattress and turning just in time to see the door opening, and your angel returning to you.
An easy smile curling up on her glossy lips, her ethereal eyes sparkling in the fading light of the day drifting in from outside, a white dress softly fluttering around her frame as she leaned against the wall like she was waiting for you to get down on your knees and thank her.
“I didn’t do it,” you breathed, almost automatically.
You needed her to believe-
“Sweetheart,” she softly shook her head as she sighed. “I know.”
Then why did she throw you in a tower and lock you up like this? Leave you a broken mess, laid bare and bloody?
“I just had to take care of a few things,” Satoru cooed.
You didn’t move. Couldn’t.
Unable to speak when you stared at her, feeling like a stranger in your own skin as you studied her back.
“Did you think I would just let you rot?” She teased, as if you weren’t still a prisoner while she tilted her head to the side, appraising you like you were some fruit she had finally decided to pluck.
It hurt.
A small wound ripping open beneath the surface, one you were quick to bandage up and come up with excuses for.
Almost immediately telling yourself that surely, she came to you as soon as she could, relief washing over the fresh sting at the realization she truly didn’t think you were behind Suguru’s death. That she hadn’t abandoned you after all.
“Don’t just sit there and stare at me,” she huffed, sick of your silence, folding her arms across her chest and frowning at you.
“Toru?” You croaked out her name, wanting to trust that it still had a place on your lips as you waited for her to disappear. Standing up on unsteady legs, muscles sore from how little you’d used them lately as you took unsure steps forward. A piece of you still convinced that you might be imagining this, or drifted off to some pretty dream where she played the same role she always did.
Your savior.
But when you got to her, hesitantly reaching out to touch her face, your fingertips trembling as you touched her cheek to discover it was solid.
Soft.
“I missed you too,” she murmured affectionately, reaching up to hold your hand there. Relaxing into your touch as you felt something inside you instantly crumble at the tiniest show of regard.
And before you could stop yourself, you threw your arms around her neck, tears welling up as you inhaled the sweet scent of her perfume, burying your face in her throat as a rough sob escaped you.
She let you.
Didn’t push you off or give you that look like you had overstepped some boundary.
No, she just slid a hand over your back, holding you closer and letting you cry into her collarbone. Stroking your hair, slowly picking out the tangles and knots in it as your body shuddered with the force of your tears.
You didn’t think you had anything left in you to cry.
But apparently there you weren’t dried out yet, and she held you through all of it. Murmuring soft words into your ear, coaxing you to calm down as you struggled to piece yourself back together after you let it all fall apart.
“I swear, I would never do anything that could put you at risk,” you added, anxiety still swirling around your thoughts as you shook your head.
“Don’t worry,” Satoru purred, squeezing you as another shudder wracked through your body. “The right person will be imprisoned soon.”
As terrible as it sounded, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care who had done it, or even why, as long as it meant you and Satoru would be safe.
The rest was just noise.
You could go back to being her maid. Waiting on her hand and foot if it meant you wouldn’t have to be away from her side again.
And if the court tried to take her crown, or shipped her back to her own palace after the rightful king had been killed, well, you both could get through it together, couldn’t you?
“I thought you left me,” you mumbled, your voice cracking as she tenderly hummed your name.
“I would never,” she swore, petting your head as she pulled you into her chest, your shoulders slumping at how tightly she held you.
“Promise?” You hopefully asked, needing to know. Needing her to say she wasn’t going anywhere.
Simply needing her.
“I promise.”
You believed her with just two words.
Under her spell in a handful of moments, your heart pounding in your chest when she eventually pulled away, cupping your face and wiping away your tears like it hurt for her to see you crying.
“Come with me,” she spoke slowly, her thumb skimming lightly over your cheekbone.
You would follow her anywhere.
Across the kingdom. To another, or even over the sea to some small countryside village. Any place was fine.
As long as she wanted you there.
Skipping down the long stairs after her, your pulse thrumming in your eardrums as you waited to get stopped by some guard, for a knight to pop up and point a sword at you for absconding with their queen.
No one else was around however, the halls barren and silent as her soft fingers interlaced through yours, tugging you ahead as she navigated through them with ease.
“Were you starving yourself for my attention?” She half-whispered, her voice hushed and husky as she threw you a look you didn’t understand.
Was she disappointed in you?
“I haven’t been hungry,” you mumbled, shaking your head. You never thought she’d come check on you. Or even be keeping tabs through whoever came to drop off the food for you.
“That’s no excuse,” she softly scolded you.
“I’m sorry,” you automatically apologized, hanging your head lower as she opened a door and ushered you into a room you’d never been in before.
It looked like it was actually fit for a princess.
Ornately designed and filled with expensive furniture you couldn’t fathom the cost of, your body freezing just two short steps inside as she shut the door behind you. Quickly making herself comfortable, slipping off her short heels and walking over to the massive bed against one wall, looking back at you with barely concealed excitement, searching your face to see if you shared
“You can stay here for now,” she whispered, winking at you as she ran her palm over the soft fabric of the blankets adorning the bed. “It’ll be our secret.”
Your secret.
The words echoed in your head, unable to shut your open mouth as you struggled to take your eyes off of her.
“Much better than that dingy tower, hm?” Satoru goaded, pride glittering in her brilliant stare.
“What is this?” You asked, looking around at the intricate tapestries hung on the walls, the plush carpets laid over the floor, the carvings into the wooden dressers and the canopy of the bed.
“Your room,” she happily hummed.
“My-” You couldn’t even say it out loud.
It had to be a joke.
“There’s a warm bath waiting for you,” she murmured, nodding towards an adjoining door you’d been too overwhelmed to notice before. “And some fresh fruit on a platter by the tub. Your favorites.”
What were you meant to make of this?
Her belated apology for locking you up for days? For leaving you behind to handle affairs far bigger than you?
Something itched at the back of your conscience, telling you to second guess this gift.
But how were you supposed to listen to your better judgement when everything left of your sensibility had been broken?
“Please eat something,” she added, and all you could do was nod your head like a moron.
“I will,” you dutifully answered.
Who were you to disobey your queen?
“Do you need help getting out of that?” She asked, glancing towards your dress, nose wrinkling at the dirt on it before she dusted herself off like perhaps you’d gotten her filthy too.
“No, I can do it,” you insisted, slipping into the bathroom before you could somehow end up even more self-conscious.
But your muscles were already aching for relief, a throbbing pain beginning in your shoulder when you lifted your dress up and over your head.
One that was thankfully soothed by the still warm water in the tub, a welcome relief to the frigid water buckets you’d been sticking using the last few days. Flower petals floating on the surface, bath salts mixed in as you sank yourself in neck-deep.
True to her word, there was a platter of food set up by the tub, and you forced yourself to take a few bites, nibbling on just enough to satisfy her request.
Satoru was trying to take care of you.
Shouldn’t it be the other way around?
Offering your shoulder for her to cry or cling to after her husband died horrifically?
Of course, you knew she didn’t like him. Or well, more accurately, she loathed him. But his passing put her in a precarious position, her own life most likely hanging in the balance when she had no heir to guarantee her safety or status here.
You didn’t know what she was going to do.
Which also meant you had no idea what you were going to do.
A piece of you wished you were born a man. That you’d been given the chance or opportunity to learn swordsmanship, or got to train with the knights. That you would be able to protect Satoru, shield her from these petty and cruel court politics instead of getting caught in the crossfire.
Washing yourself of the last few days did not help quell your feelings of inadequacy, or solve a single one of your problems, no matter how soothing it was to soak and scrub yourself clean properly this time.
You didn’t linger in the tub.
No matter how much you might have liked to, a far greater part of you longed to be around Satoru. Craving her company after you’d been deprived of her presence for so long. You wanted to curl up in her lap like you used to, back when you were children and she’d be the one to comfort you over every skinned knee and scraped elbow.
Stepping out of the tub with a heavy sigh, squinting when you discovered something wasn’t quite right.
“Toru?” You called out, glancing around the small room searching for something that was evidently forgotten. “There’s no towel.”
Or change of clothes.
Nothing but your discarded dress from before to cover up, although you weren’t exactly inclined to pick it back up.
You thought she’d just open the door and toss something to put on.
Not just swing the door open and saunter in a second later, not even blinking as her eyes swept over your bare form. Lingering on the swell of your breasts and the way the water droplets were still rolling down between them.
“The maid must have forgotten,” she hummed, dragging her stare off of you to do a courtesy sweep of the room. “Give me a moment.”
You were overthinking it.
Nodding obediently as you glanced down at your legs, shuffling on your feet as heat rose to your cheeks, thankful for the soft thud of the door shutting.
She returned a couple minutes later, a towel in one arm and a white gown that looked an awful lot like a short version of her own in the other, passing both to you with that practiced smile of hers she usually saved for when she was up to something.
“There you go,” Satoru chirped. “I’ll wait for you.”
It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen you naked before.
But this felt decidedly different.
And you didn’t know what to do about the strange fluttering in your stomach at the idea of her watching you dress, at the way her eyes had drifted so dangerously slowly over the shape of you.
Was this a dream?
Were you still asleep? Still stuck in that tower?
Wishing for something you had never once been able to admit to yourself that you wanted?
You took an extra few minutes to dry off, adjusting the way the dress hung over you five times too many before you paused to brush your teeth in the mirror, avoiding your reflection as you spit in the sink, watching the tinged pink drool disappear with a soft exhale.
Satoru was pristine. Pure.
And what were you?
You opened the door, fiddling with the hem of the dress she’d given you as you nearly ran straight into where she was waiting right outside of it.
“I was getting worried,” she lightly joked, and you were brushing past her, a painful surge of panic bubbling back up.
“Why are you doing this for me?” You asked, hyper aware of how undeserving you were as you padded barefoot back into the overwhelmingly lovely room. “It’s too much, I-”
“You should know by now that nothing is too much for me when it comes to you,” Satoru chided with a soft chuckle. Refusing to let you step away from her, grabbing your wrist before you could slip away.
She was so close.
That familiar scent of her lulling you back in, daring you to breathe her in again.
And god, you wanted to.
Satoru said your name, and before you knew what you were doing, you were leaning up on your tip toes and pressing your lips to hers, impulsively planting a kiss to her strawberry-flavored mouth.
You knew within half a second that you shouldn’t have done it, but you couldn’t stop yourself, deepening it as your fingertips tenderly grazed her impossibly perfect skin. It took every ounce of self restraint for you to pull away from her, shaking your head as you tried not to cry at the thought you would never get to do that again.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, immediately wishing you could take it back, sure that she would throw you back in the tower for the crime of presuming you could possibly deserve anything as sweet as her lips. “I shouldn’t have-”
But before you could so much as finish your sentence, Satoru was cupping your face and pulling you back in, her nose nestling against yours as her blue eyes sparkled with something you’d never seen in them before.
“Do it again.”
ε✿з
You were kissing her.
For a moment, Satoru was sure she had died and this was heaven.
How often had she scrawled into diaries her deepest dreams of getting to experience the taste of you on her tongue?
Your gentle hands on her face and your heaving chest pressed against hers, lips slipping between her own with desperate affection.
You. Desperate. For her.
Her brain only conjuring her small words and short sentences, too overwhelmed by the sensation of your soft mouth to think straight.
God, you tasted so good.
Fruity and sweet at the same time, your delicate fingers sifting through her hair as you let out the quietest squeak Satoru immediately wanted to hear over and over, sure she’d never get sick of the sound.
And behind the lovestruck haze, a jealous voice scoffed that she should’ve killed Suguru far sooner for getting to taste you like this first.
Slipped the poison in his cup the moment he set his sights on you and made his intent to steal you clear.
Of course, cleaning it up would’ve been much messier, but red hot jealousy coiled and cut through all her cold logic when she thought of his massive mitts manhandling you instead of treating you like the rare flower you really were.
Satoru was the one who spent her life watering you, taking care to tend to the soil and fertilize it, making sure you’d bloom so beautifully for her, and he tried to rip your roots out like you wouldn’t just wither away without her.
“Satoru,” you whispered her name, sucking in a sharp breath as you pulled back, eyes shining with surprise.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you,” she swallowed hard, spit pooling in the back of her mouth.
From the day you looked up at her like some wounded lamb, you had been hers.
Perhaps it had just taken a little separation for you to see that too.
“You were waiting for me?” You repeated, that dazed, dreamy look in your eyes as you looked up at her, as if you thought she was going to change her mind.
“My heart has always been yours,” she proclaimed, although the confession she used to imagine came out far more shaky than it had in her head. Not nearly as cool or collected or calm as she pictured when your cheek was so warm beneath her palm.
Praying that you wouldn’t change your mind now that she had no way to take back the words.
“But I’m-” You were about to put yourself down. To diminish the light inside you that she loved so much.
“You’re mine.”
And no one else’s now.
Before you could protest, claim something silly about the difference in your status, she was pulling you back onto the bed, your form landing on top of hers as the feathered mattress cushioned the fall. You tried to wiggle back, but Satoru simply gripped your waist, refusing to let you budge as she pushed her bottom lip out in a pout you immediately softened for.
“Say it for me,” she requested.
“I have always belonged to you,” you acquiesced, and Satoru wanted to bury herself inside of your heart to make sure there really was no space for anyone else inside of it.
That it was wholly hers the way you already occupied every nook and crevice of her body and brain.
She was craning her neck up to kiss you again, your mouth meeting hers a little slower, more hesitation creeping in as your body began to melt against her. A possessive hand sliding up your spine, already annoyed at the fabric separating your skin from hers.
Needing to feel you properly, for your soft flesh to dimple beneath her fingers, to leave lovebites scattered across every inch of you that you offered.
“It killed me to see you with him,” she muttered, chest seizing at how vulnerable the confession came out.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered, shaking your head before she abruptly flipped you over, pinning you beneath her and pushing your dress up to expose-
Oh fuck.
Was every part of you so pretty?
Your pussy glistening as she nudged your thighs further apart, her pulse pounding in her ears as she finally got to see all of you up close. Presented perfectly for her, your nose scrunched up like you might be scared she could possibly find something wrong with you instead of being awestruck by the simple sight of you splayed out for her.
She might not have a cock, but Satoru was sure she could make you cum hard enough to forget about any petty insecurities that might be plaguing you.
“Take your gown off,” Satoru instructed, only realizing how stern it came out when you faltered, hesitating as you bit your bottom lip. “Please.”
Before she had to break down and beg for you to strip.
Satoru sat up and started lifting off her own dress as well, watching the way your eyes hung onto the heave of her breasts, how they kept shyly flickering back up to her face as your fingers slowly moved to remove the fabric.
You weren’t girls anymore.
Not kids playing husband and wife, or king and queen.
Exploring each other for keeps, hands tepidly traveling across hips and thighs and breasts at first, although it didn’t take much time for the touches to turn needy.
Hungry for something you’d both been starving yourselves of for years.
Could you really blame Satoru for not being able to stop herself?
For hooking one of those soft thighs of yours over her shoulder and dragging her tongue along the inside of it before the last little tendril of self-control she possessed snapped?
She had to have you.
Slipping two fingers inside you slowly, feeling the way you squeezed around her digits, your mouth forming a delicious little ‘o’ she wanted to kiss again. Already shaking before she even began to swirl her fingers around inside of you, barely able to contain the heat rolling through her core just watching your reactions as she pushed in deeper.
You whimpered, and every single thing that led up to this in Satoru’s life was suddenly worth it.
The mocking, the marriage, every mistake she made on this meandering path, she’d do all of it again if you were waiting for her at the end of it.
Your lips swollen and kiss-bruised as you let out soft sounds of pleasure that were because of her. Your naked form shivering in the same bed as you reached down to run your fingers through her hair, holding it back as she found herself half-delirious with lust she couldn’t hold back.
Slotting in a third finger the second she thought you could take it, watching your eyes widen and start to water as they rolled back, your hips bucking up to drive her fingers as deep as possible.
“My princess can take more,” she purred, spreading you further apart, greedy eyes gazing on your stripped bare body, the thin sheen of sweat sticking to your skin as you moaned her name.
“S-S’toru,” you cried out, and she was a little tempted to just do this for hours and count how many times she could make you say it precisely like that.
Satoru must have imagined this moment a million times. What your face would look like all scrunched up, how you would shiver and shake as she swirled her fingers in, feeling for all those sensitive spots that had you immediately trying to squirm and wiggle away.
Pushing and pressing into them while she pleaded for you to stay put in her sultriest voice.
“Be a good girl for me,” she hummed, and you nodded, loyal as ever. Itching to please her as badly as she wanted to please you. “Let me love you.”
Let her hold you.
Fuck you.
Make you cum as many times as you could in a single night and then give her the rest of them. All your nights. All your days. Everything.
Satoru had always been greedy.
And you satiated her sweet tooth more than anything else ever did.
Sinking her teeth into the inside of your thighs just because she could, feeling your muscles twitch and spasm as you gasped, caught off guard.
You didn’t stop her.
No, you let her bite and lick and kiss, her mouth latching onto your swollen clit, swirling the tip of her tongue over it as you let out a raw noise. As if someone had just ripped it from your stomach, pulled it out of you too fast for you to soften it.
Her fingers continued to thrust in while she nipped at your clit, just for your body to confirm what she suspected by clenching around her hand like you wanted to trap it in there. You were cumming for her already.
She’d seen you do it with Suguru.
But this one was so much more visceral, no dramatic or drawn-out moan, just your body melting into a puddle for her to mold as you fell apart for her.
You were shuddering, limbs trembling, as you tried to pull her back by her hair.
But you had never been good at telling her no.
Even when she was driving you right to the brink of overstimulation, and then pushing you well past it, greedily sucking on that sensitive bud, pressing her tongue flat against it as she pumped her fingers in-and-out, finding a steady rhythm to ruin you too.
Satoru had never had sex before. Her purity protected well into the marriage she was supposed to save it for. No experience of her own to truly compare this too. But she’d touched herself and pretended it was you enough times to have an idea of what would make you unravel just right.
Operating on instinct, on need, peering up at you from her position between your thighs as pretty tears welled up in your eyes. Satoru wanted to soothe your ache, to kiss them away and drag her tongue over the streaks they left on your cheeks.
Perhaps she should’ve planned a little better, found something bigger to stick in you, to make you moan and murmur for mercy with, watching you fall apart while she teased and toyed with your body now that you had finally given yourself fully to her.
You were so beautiful like this.
Being brought to the heights of pleasure, worshipped the way you should’ve been from the start, her tongue and fingers working together as she clumsily made out with you, only pulling off to drag the thick muscle over your slick folds for a better taste.
“I-I-” You hiccuped, your voice half an octave too high as your thighs clamped down around her head, your own thrown back as you wiggled your hips, chasing a second climax. “I c-can’t-”
“You can,” Satoru hummed, rubbing her own thighs together to soothe the aching need between them. “Want you to cum for me again, princess.”
You wouldn’t deny her.
You never did.
Desperately groaning as you gave in, sweat making both your bodies sticky as you tried to not to tug too hard at her hair, still holding back to not hurt her as you crumbled into a crying mess. Tears slipping out that she was quick to climb back on top of you and wipe away, kissing your lips to swallow your whines, enjoying the way you fit so nicely beneath her until you started to come back down.
“You look so pretty like this,” she softly complimented, tracing her thumb over your lip, already missing your kiss the moment your mouths were apart.
“Toru,” you whispered her name, and she was sure that she would never get sick of hearing it. Far fucking better than the way you used to say Suguru.
“Mhm?” She hummed, chewing on the inside of her cheek as you stared straight through her. That fuzzy look in your eyes fading as understanding replaced the daze.
Like you’d suddenly gained some clarity.
“It was you, was it?” You asked, and you didn’t need to say what when you were both well aware of what you were accusing her of.
Were you really just now considering it?
Was your judgement clouded from your unconditional love? So devoted that you were deluding yourself into ignoring the obvious?
“No,” Satoru lied, still in the habit of hiding the truth if it meant sparing your feelings. Refusing to lose you after she just got you. “It wasn’t me.”
ε✿з
You were flying far too close to the sun.
You knew that somewhere deep inside of you as Satoru snuggled against your collarbone, her warmth wrapped around you as she burned you up. Her scorching touch seared into your skin as she refused to let even an inch separate the two of you.
Sooner or later, your wings were going to fail you, and send you tumbling out of the sky back to the ground.
Would she catch you when you crashed?
Or would you be left to stare up at her until she was just a beautiful bird flying high out of your reach?
All you were doing was damning yourself by dreaming of a happy ending with her.
You guessed you should just be grateful for what you had while you had it.
That she hadn’t cut your tongue out for daring to slip it between her lips.
It hadn’t been the first time you had thought about it.
But even entertaining the idea of her choosing you had always been so preposterous you pushed your budding feelings down deep, refusing to let them devour you no matter how often she occupied your dreams.
Your life had been built around the pristine pedestal you placed her on.
Your world revolved around her smile, her laugh, hearing your twinkling voice in your ear and feeling her soft fingers brushing over your skin.
Everything you’d ever done had been for her.
So why did it feel like you’d just gone from warming one ruler’s sheets to another?
As if you were just in her bed for the comfort she brought, the security of her position.
You hoped she wouldn’t think that. That she understood that if she asked you to run away with her today, you would accept without hesitation.
Next to her now, her sleepy eyes fluttering open as she hummed your name, it just made you think of how stupid you were not to have been doing this all along. For not seeing this for what it was sooner.
“You’ll be safe here,” Satoru murmured, snuggling against you as you rolled onto your side. Keeping herself glued to you, her lips lingering on your skin with a content sigh.
“What happens next?” You murmured, watching the morning sun beginning to rise through the stained glass window, slowly chasing the dark away as your personal sunshine faltered for a moment.
“They’re still investigating his passing,” she mumbled, refusing to say Suguru’s name. Or call it for what it must have been. An assassination someone wanted to make you the scapegoat for. “You haven’t been officially cleared yet.”
And still, she’d showed up for you, hadn’t she?
“But I will be?” You hopefully asked, your heart thrumming at the thought of this being ripped from you too.
“Nothing will happen to you,” she swore.
You had given her your heart. Your soul. Your body.
Those were all you really had to offer.
But handing her your trust?
That was…tricky.
Especially when she wouldn’t offer any more details about your detainment as the minutes melted into hours and the hours twisted into days that just kept passing.
In the dark moments, a cold voice suggested that you should at least consider the chance she could have done it. Orchestrated it from the shadows. But she had told you she hadn’t.
She would’ve confessed it if she had.
Suguru had his fair share of enemies. Disgruntled rulers from other kingdoms, angry nobles and dukes who wanted more power than he allowed.
It wasn’t like it was outrageous that one of them had grown sick of his antics and took matters into their own hands.
So you tried to be content too, Satoru trading your tower for more comfortable quarters, her trusted knights stationed outside the room you caught glimpses at when she slipped in-and-out, leaving you to attend to her duties most days.
She brought you meals, insisting on hand feeding you half the time, murmuring under her breath that you couldn’t be trusted to do it yourself before she had you for dessert. Hands spreading your thighs apart as she lapped and licked you up, refusing to pull off until you had cum on her tongue or come undone with her fingers, falling apart for her to mend back together.
Still, it had started to feel like you were becoming more a part of her schedule than like her partner.
Perhaps that was wishing too much though.
Wanting more than you had any right to ask for.
At the end of the day, you would still always be a maid in everyone’s eyes.
Her pet.
Her people wouldn’t exactly be pleased to know that their queen was more interested in women than securing another king or providing them an heir?
Were you a price she was willing to pay for political control? Would there come a day where she would remarry another man?
Was it already being arranged while you wasted weeks lounging around in her bed and longing for her to join you, smelling her scent on the pillow and aching for her return?
The worst part was how Satoru was so hesitant to let you hold her, doing everything on her terms as she came up with excuse after excuse to keep your hands either bound behind your back or tethered in her hair instead of tracing over her soft skin.
Did she think you were too dirty?
That you would stain her supple flesh if you so much as squeezed her close?
No matter how much it stung, you still shoved down your discomfort. Told yourself that you should be grateful for what she was giving you and ignore how much she withheld.
You had to plead with her just to be allowed to visit her office during the days to keep yourself from going insane. A trusted knight always had to accompany you there, a shawl hiding your face as they carefully took you there when no one else would be around. She stocked extra books for you, a basket left next to one of the armchairs with embroidery supplies, sometimes making you write letters for her that she couldn’t care to do herself to foreign kingdoms and nobles to settle their unrest.
And after a month, you began to settle.
Setting aside old foolish hopes and accepting your new routine.
Waiting for her to join you in her office, curling up in one of the other chairs as you tried to tell yourself that she’d come back soon. She had run off to attend some important meeting, patting your head and telling you that it was nothing when you tried to ask what it was about.
So what if it made you feel a little pathetic for waiting around like a poor puppy dog abandoned by her owner?
Satoru would return to you.
And she made all of it worth it.
Your body was beginning to fall asleep though, pins and needles pricking your limbs when you stood to shake it off, walking around in a circle and wondering if you were just destined to be on her leash before you decided to slump yourself in her chair instead.
It smelled like her.
Your body relaxing at the scent, already trained as your eyes skimmed over her cluttered desk space, papers strewn around from the hurry she left in before.
Curiosity pricking at you as you found yourself slowly opening up drawers and peeking inside to see if there was anything interesting hiding from you. And slipped underneath thick ledgers and blank papers was a plain black leather-bound notebook you’d seen her writing in before.
You pulled it out, a not-at-all small piece of you hoping that maybe it was a secret diary as you started flipping through it, that you’d find your own name scribbled down with hearts drawn next to it.
It turned out your name was there.
But it was the words that were with it that sent your stomach through the floor.
The contents of it were cold.
Sharp. Each word punctuated so deeply that the ink bled between the pages.
The confirmation that she loved you was there. Just sandwiched between white hot anger that someone else had gotten to touch you first. To fuck you in the bed you belonged in with her.
Queasiness slowly building in your core, something thick and slimy coiling around your heart as you skipped from the earlier entries to the more recent ones, knowing what was coming before you found the entry for the day Suguru died.
And there in between the lines, the truth stared back at you.
She had dinner with Suguru.
Shared a meal together right before he went to join you that she never once mentioned to you.
No.
This couldn’t be right.
Satoru couldn’t have-
Or well, if she did, she wouldn’t have framed you for it.
She loved you.
Swore that you were hers and that she’d never let anything awful happen to you again. The idea that she’d put you through hell just to have you all to herself was crippling.
Maybe she didn’t outright admit that she’d done it, maybe you still didn’t know precisely how, but you knew it was her with a scary sort of certainty.
Your body freezing as you read and reread the five short lines in front of you detailing her evening, forcing yourself to turn the page and read ahead, to see her absolutely unaffected as she offered just a single line about Suguru dying. Images of his face, that awful look in his eyes before he collapsed floating back up as you choked on the stomach-churning memory of him.
An awful thought crept in that she left it here for you to find. That some part of her hoped you’d be nosey enough to snoop and come across it.
For you to see all of her.
Was it a test?
Her attempt to see if your devotion to her was strong enough to stay despite what she’d done.
You closed the book, shoving it back where you found it and standing up as the knowledge started to sink in, to seep through and cast a darker shade on your days together as you rushed to return to your chair.
What if it had all been designed to keep you firmly in your place beneath her? Confined to her chambers and chained to her heart?
Didn’t she already know she didn’t need to do any of it for you to stay?
The door opened with a creak, and you were reopening the forgotten book you’d been reading before you found the forbidden one.
“Hi, beautiful,” Satoru greeted as she walked over, bending over to press a soft kiss on your cheek before breezing past to her desk.
“Hi, Toru,” you echoed, pretending to be absorbed in the book in your hands, hoping she wouldn’t notice you were holding it upside down.
You closed it, placing it in your lap as you looked up at her with easy obedience, praying she wouldn’t pay any mind to the suspicion now lingering underneath it.
“Was I gone long?” She earnestly asked as she slid into her seat, scooting it up close to her desk and leaning across it as her blue eyes focused solely on your face.
“It felt like it,” you confessed, swallowing hard.
“I must make it up to you tonight then,” your Toru teased, her perfectly cruel mouth curling up as she delivered a cute wink.
She did make it up to you.
But it didn’t make you forget what you found.
What were you meant to do about it?
Pretend you hadn’t? Pray that no one else would ever discover what you had?
You wished she would abandon this. Abdicate the throne and take you away somewhere warm.
But it was Satoru.
Hadn’t you learned already she refused to give up anything once it was hers?
The privilege, the power, the promise of a gold gilded future with you waiting on her.
She would never let it go.
It was you that didn’t know how to move forward. That could figure out where to go from here when she didn’t seem to notice your indiscretion.
You spent two days torn over it. Treading softly with her, feigning that you were fine overnight until she left you again and you unraveled in her absence.
Opening the bedroom door an hour after she left, already knowing who’d you find on the other side.
A brute of a man standing guard, his back to the opposite wall as his ruby red eyes narrowed at you with pure annoyance.
“No.”
You hadn’t even spoken yet.
Eying him with the same irritation he showed for you, nose scrunching up as you stopped yourself from huffing.
Most of the guards she had stationed outside your room changed, unaware of who they were even protecting, a rotating roster of men ready to keep you from breaking free. But not him.
He was always the one posted directly by your door.
Dark pink hair falling down in his face, scarred and marked skin always creased in a stern scowl when he caught you staring at him, one foot about to fall forward before he shook his head.
“Stop,” he grunted as you peeked out of the door, and you feigned innocence, shrugging your shoulders.
“I just want to go to her office,” you pleaded, and he glared at you, refusing to even entertain your request.
“No,” he deadpanned.
But there was something underneath his rude facade that you didn’t like. Your brows pinching together as you tried to pout at him, to come up with something persuasive enough to change his answer.
Before you could, there was the click of heels, and you glanced back to see Satoru returning, a platter prepared with desserts. Her pretty face was pinched up with obvious displeasure though, her mouth twitching down as you hurried to step back inside your room.
She was slamming the door shut after you a few seconds later, half-shoving the tray into your hands as she turned to you with a disgruntled hiss.
“Why were you speaking to him?” Satoru snapped, and the only thing you could properly think about was how pretty she looked when she was jealous.
The downturn of her lips, the way her blue eyes glinted with unfettered annoyance, blowing air out of her nose as she tilted her head to the side all dramatically.
“I wanted to see you,” you murmured, cupping her face just for her jaw to clench.
Torn between taking you at your word and questioning it.
“You know I would be here with you all the time if I could,” she softly said, despite how cold her stare still was. Her hands still held warmth for you though. Delicately picking up a slice of a cake she must’ve requested the chef make, bringing it up to your lips.
You opened up for her. Holding her stare as she pushed it through, taking a small bite as she watched you swallow it.
“I worry about you,” you confessed as she wiped the icing from the corner of your mouth.
“Don’t.”
You never thought Satoru could possibly ask too much of you.
But that was simply impossible.
And the longer you went without any answers, the more you found yourself starting to spiral. To unravel as you waited and waited for something to change.
What could you do?
It wasn’t like the court you’d never found any friends in would support what the two of you shared. Satoru had kept you completely clueless to what was happening outside of the two rooms you could be in, ignorant to how much trouble she might be in with no husband to wear the crown.
Truthfully, you had no plan.
No magical solution that struck you in the middle of the night.
But you wanted to help.
Peeking back out into the hallway a week after you first found her book, ready to prod and press her knight for more information on what you’d been missing, but to your surprise, the hallway was empty.
No sign of anyone as you slipped out, your heart thrumming loudly in your chest as you started down the familiar path to her office.
It was a short walk, but every step made your chest constrict, pulse pounding so loud you were sure someone had to hear until you were finally there, her office door cracked open just enough for you to steal a glimpse inside.
The knight was there, his brows knitted together tight as he looked through all the books lining the shelves, walking over to her desk and carefully looking through the documents on it with that permanent scowl of his.
Searching for something.
Oh no.
You had a feeling you knew exactly what he was hoping to find.
He was going to betray her, wasn’t he? Looking for proof of what she’d done
His hand reached for the drawer her notebook was in, and you were pushing the door open before he could discover it.
Your suspicions were confirmed with how straight he abruptly stood, acting as if he hadn’t just been snooping.
“What are you doing out of your room?” He snarled at you, his voice hoarse and harsh as you refused to tremble or back down.
“What are you doing in here?” You returned the question, throat constricting at the intensity of his glare.
You weren’t brave. Not nearly as strong or stubborn as Satoru.
It wasn’t like anyone would ever be intimidated by you.
But you would try for her.
He didn’t answer your question, just grinding his back molars as he stepped out from around the desk, starting to stomp over as if he planned to drag you out and toss you back into your room.
If he did that though, he might just come back and find precisely what he was looking for.
So while he started towards you, you walked the opposite way around to where he’d been, a lie slipping off your tongue like you were used to telling them, “I just wanted to grab some books I left in here.”
“Hurry up then,” he scoffed, biting his tongue, probably not pushing it so you wouldn’t go and tattle to Toru about him being in here.
He thought you were stupid.
Just a brainless fool who was only good for getting fingered and fucked.
Not batting an eye when you grabbed a couple books you’d set aside on Satoru’s desk before pulling open the drawer and grabbing her diary, sliding it in the middle of the pile as her knight impatiently looked outside the door.
She would notice it was gone.
And you would have to fess up, admit that you’d read it enough to know to take it.
You’d rather her be mad at you than to get caught for her crime.
Stoking the flames in the fireplace the second your guard half-pushed you back into the room you were supposed to be in, ripping out the incriminating pages first and using them for tender before tossing the rest of the book in.
Watching it go up in flames, ashes sputtering out as it turned to dust in front of your eyes while you paced the floor and planned out the speech you would give her.
Or would have given her had she actually returned for dinner.
The sun setting and the moon replacing it through your window as you waited and waited for her to come for you. Debating and drowning in your anxieties over what could be taking her so long, your eyes compelled back to the burning papers, using the fire poker to keep the flames going before you were finally forced to face the reality that Satoru might not be showing up tonight.
Climbing back under the freezing covers, the bed so much bigger without her there to curl up against.
It didn’t matter how silky the sheets were or how comfortable the mattress was.
You couldn’t sleep anymore when there wasn’t the scent of her perfume and the softness of her skin to comfort you.
Was she upset with you?
Had something awful happened to her?
To make everything worse, you started to hear a…commotion on the floor below you. Voices and the sound of things moving around, shouts and scuffles that only served to heighten your nerves.
You almost opened the door to go find out what was going on. Sneak out again to search for the truth, but every time your hand settled on the knob, you couldn’t bring yourself to turn it.
Ignorance could be bliss.
But the truth would come out sooner or later.
Curled up on the edge of your bed, hands clasped together as your eyes stuck to the door, shadows dancing across the floor as the sun rose once again.
When it opened again, you were immediately standing, wiping sweaty palms on your nightdress as your breath got stuck in your throat, a hot lump forming the moment Satoru actually walked through.
“Hi, sweetheart,” she softly greeted, exhaustion obvious in the dark circles betraying her beautiful face.
“What happened?” You asked, studying her features for some clue, heart slamming into your chest as you tried to figure out what the chaos beneath you could possibly be. What could’ve taken her so long to come to you.
“They discovered who killed our dearly departed king,” she said, a faint hint of amusement shimmering before she turned away to lock the door behind her.
“What?” Your throat closed up, the word coming out as a stunned squeak as your brain tried to add together everything you knew.
The person who killed Suguru was standing in front of you.
If they knew that, she would be on her way to the gallows.
Not turning around so you could undo her corset.
You automatically stepped forward, fingers trembling as you undid her dress out of habit.
“One of the knights slipped poison into his wine,” Satoru apathetically huffed, as if it was a waste of time to even talk about it.
“One of the knights?” You echoed, reaching for something you didn’t know if you were confident enough to confront her about right as you unlaced the final part. Satoru stepped out of it with ease, her perfect body on display as she twisted back around to look over her shoulder at you. “Which one?”
“Does it matter?” She scoffed, arching up an eyebrow, clearly unhappy with your question.
But you still had one more left.
“Why?”
Her hesitation to answer gave you a different one.
“You know as well as I do what he was like,” she said, a little too snappy as she squinted at you.
But the moment the words were out there, you could see she regretted her response, her fingers skimming over your waist and squeezing you tenderly. “It’s all over now.”
You stared at her.
Satoru was lying to you.
You didn’t know why it surprised you. Couldn’t explain why it left you so shocked, staring at her in silence as you struggled to find something to say that wouldn’t give away what you knew.
“The knight was executed over night,” she added, your heart stilling as you realized the toll had risen to two.
But could you be upset when the other option was one, or maybe both of you taking their place?
“How did-”
“He stole something of mine,” Satoru muttered, and you knew what must’ve happened without her offering anything else.
She must have returned to her office first and realized her journal was gone.
And there were only two people she trusted enough to have access to the office it was kept in.
So she pinned the blame on her knight and beheaded him before he could speak about any of its contents or piece together what she’d done for you.
“He didn’t,” you breathed, your lungs shrinking as you struggled to get any more air in.
One of you had to be honest here.
She blinked at you, not comprehending what you were saying.
“What?”
“It was me,” you admitted, stiffly shrugging your shoulders. “I saw him searching your office. And, I, um, took it and threw it in the hearth.”
“You burned my-?”
“I read it,” you swallowed hard, that hard lump still there, still choking you up as you avoided her stare. “Before. I know-”
“No,” she cut you off, grabbing your chin and forcing you to tilt your face up to meet hers. “You, you were supposed to stay out of this.”
You knew in an instant all she wanted was to protect you. To shield you from the nasty politics and petty games these awful people liked to play.
But you couldn’t stand the idea of her doing anything at the expense of herself.
“You should have told me from the start,” you insisted. “I-I would’ve-”
“Your hands were supposed to be clean.” And your head empty.
Did she think you wouldn’t have loved her if you knew what she had done?
And now you had helped her conceal it.
“We could have-” You started, about to tell her that as long as you were together, you could work out the rest.
“If I told you before, you would have said there was another way,” Satoru solemnly said, her eyes narrowing as her fingers tightened around your wrist.
You couldn’t really argue that. You would have said precisely that. Told her it was too risky. Tried to dissuade her from taking drastic measures and attempting to convince her to run away with you.
You used to wish that the two of them would find a way to work it out. That you could find a happily ever after where everyone would get along.
What would your reaction have been if she touched your face and told you that she was going to murder her husband?
“Isn’t this what you wanted?” She pressed when you took too long to reply, her fingers pinching your chin to draw your attention back to right now. “I was not about to let you carry his child.”
It wasn’t like you could have hers.
Even if you’d do that in a heartbeat.
“He would have just kept putting babies in you and pushing me away from you” Satoru hissed, jealousy and anger rolling into her raw voice. “I couldn’t-”
“I know,” you interrupted her this time, softening as you leaned into her.
“Now it’s just us again,” she whispered conspiratorially, pressing a clipped-short nail against the tip of your nose.
How were you supposed to be mad about that?
You held your breath though, still searching for anything that could stand in the way.
“These people, they are not going to just let you rule forever,” you whispered, thinking about what could befall both of you if her treason was ever discovered. Sure, she’d found someone to blame, but there must be other loose ends. Whoever she obtained the poison from. The subjects who never supported her as queen to start with. “If they find out or-”
Satoru pressed her finger against your mouth, stopping you while you spiralled.
“Princess,” she murmured, clicking her tongue as her initial emotions swirled into that cocky confidence of hers. Pride returning as she realized that you weren’t going to condemn or curse her, but that you were concerned for her. “Don’t you know me?”
You hoped that meant she had already considered every side of your fear and took care of every conceivable problem.
“I love you,” you offered instead, your voice trembling as you put your trust in her hands.
“His throne is mine,” she smiled softly. And his concubine.
“What if someone else challenges it?” You pressed.
“There’s going to be a baby born with dark hair and purple eyes in a few months. His child. The mother doesn’t want the child, so I made a deal. She gets her own estate. We will get our heir,” She explained, speaking in short sentences like it would make the revelation easier to swallow.
“Someone else was pregnant with his child?” You breathed, taken aback.
When the fuck did he have the time to plow someone else’s field when he pretended to be so preoccupied with you?
It was wrong, especially when it wasn’t like your heart had ever wanted him, but it wounded your own pride a little bit at the idea you hadn’t been enough for him.
You supposed you should’ve suspected it, if Satoru wasn’t enough for him either.
“You weren’t his only-”
“Whore,” you finished for her, the word coming out a little strangled as you saw the situation for what it was.
All you’d been was a warm body to Suguru.
You were both disposable, to be used and discarded when his interests drifted.
“We’ll tell everyone the baby is yours,” she added, as if she had already planned every last detail out. “And until the child is old enough, I can still rule as a regent.”
Was that why she’d been hiding you away?
Faking a pregnancy instead of keeping you prisoner?
“Do you think they’ll accept a child they think is a bastard?” You asked, needing her to say yes.
To assure you that your fears were unfounded.
That she’d take care of you the same way she always had.
“I will give them no other option.”
When she spoke like that, that cold look icing over her eyes as she steeled her resolve, you knew she would. That she would do anything necessary to make sure of it.
“And what? We live happily ever after?”
Say yes.
You needed it. Craved her confirmation.
Looking up at her as your trembling fingers reached out to trace her waist, holding your breath as she nodded slowly.
“Forever.”
Your angel was standing in front of you promising you everything you ever wanted.
How were you ever meant to say no?
Even if she would lead you straight to Hell.
“You can be my queen,” Satoru murmured, giving you that pretty puppy dog pout you always fell for, placated as she leaned down to leave a soft kiss to your forehead like it was all settled.
Regret still lingering in your body as you ached to actually be that for her. Wishing your circumstances had been different from the beginning.
That you were never cursed to be so far below her, and in the body of a woman that could never wear a matching ring or recite wedding vows to her.
“I wish I was a-”
“Do not,” she scoffed, shaking her head. “You are perfect precisely the way you are.”
“Then why don’t you let me love you like you love me?” You asked, almost immediately annoyed at yourself for sounding a little whiney.
But you wanted to be inside of her.
To feel her squeeze and squirm around you, to hear her dissolve into messy whimpers and whines because of you.
“W-what do you mean?” She stuttered, her white brows arching up high as her lips got stuck in the sort of ‘o’ that made you itch to slip your tongue inside of her.
“I want to make you feel good,” you simply said, cheeks heating up as you swallowed the spit pooling in your mouth.
You had never seen Satoru nervous before.
Her mouth opened and clamped shut a few times before she started trying to ramble off reasons that she was better at giving, but you were sick of them.
Sick of all the stupid things that had kept you apart.
All the years you could’ve spent in her warmth that you missed out on. Mourning what both of your lives could’ve been if you were born as other people.
But she had sworn you were enough for her.
Was it wrong to want to show her how she was far more than enough for you?
“I-I just like the way you taste and-”
You kissed her mid-sentence, shutting her up before she could stall this any longer.
Grabbing her this time, guiding her back to the bed one step at a time, tangling your fingers in her soft, silky hair as your tongue slipped past her lips, tracing the sharp tips of her canines until her back hit the mattress.
And god, the moment you climbed on top of her, straddling her soft waist and pausing to peel your nightdress over your head, you hated yourself for not doing it sooner.
For missing out on the view you were currently taking in, eyes slowly drifting over the swell of her breasts, the pink peaked buds of her nipples as she sucked in uneven breaths, staring up at you with those dazzling blue eyes.
“You’re so beautiful,” you whispered, the words ripped from you as you struggled to keep yourself steady.
It felt like you were defiling something holy.
Her sacred body below you, your fingertips skimming over her pale stomach, swirling slowly across her nipple as you bit your bottom lip.
If she was an altar, a god, you’d pray to her every day.
Swear your faith and undying devotion, shower her with offerings and pray for just a sliver of her favor.
You couldn't believe she was yours.
“I’m a virgin,” Satoru suddenly blurted out, your fingers freezing as you drifted them back down below her belly button.
“Oh,” you blinked.
You suppose it should’ve been obvious.
But you had never really thought too hard about it.
You never exactly prized your virtue. But hers was different.
Special.
“Do you want me to stop?” You tentatively asked, about to climb back off of her before her hand gripped onto your hip to hold you there.
“No,” she answered a little too quickly.
So you came up with another solution to, ah, quell her nerves.
The ribbons you used to tie her hair with now strewn all over the bed, a long one in your hands as you adjusted her head forward.
“I’ll be gentle,” you promised.
Even though she practically jumped at every tiny touch you delivered to her skin, shivering at just a brush of your thumb over her nipple and when you leaned close enough for your breath to ghost across her throat.
You wrapped the ribbon around her eyes, excitement tingling between your fingers as you fixed the silk ribbon into its proper place, tying a pretty bow around the back, careful not to get her hair caught in it.
“Can you see?” You asked, humming softly with satisfaction as you lifted her wrists up next, positioning them above her hair as she writhed in the sheets.
“No,” she echoed, her voice shaking a little no matter how cocky she still tried to sound.
“Good.”
You tied her wrists next, watching the way she tested how strong the knot was by flexing them as you smiled to yourself.
“You know, you’re so mean,” you murmured, tracing your fingertip across her sharp features, brushing your thumb over her defined cheekbones before drifting down to her soft lips. “It’s only fair I get to play with you too.”
“I’m never mean to you,” Satoru huffed, and you were a little tempted to grab another ribbon and gag her with it for playing dumb.
“I hate it when you hide things from me,” you muttered, shaking your head with a soft tut of your tongue.
“I do it because-”
“You love me?” You asked, slowly shuffling down her body, pressing kiss after kiss across her heaving breasts down her slender abdomen.
Hoisting one of her thighs over your shoulder, sucking in a breath before you leaned in to leave on the most sensitive spot on her body.
“S-so much,” her cute voice cracked, nearly crumbling at the soft contact.
All her strength quickly melted into a puddle of pure need, her hips bucking up when you shifted down to start sucking on it, a gorgeous whimper escaping her – and immediately making you greedy for more.
You never thought Satoru would be at your mercy.
Her pretty pale body shivering, perfect skin glistening with sweat as she shuddered for you, her soft thighs trying to close around your head as you dragged your tongue down across her soaked cunt.
You didn’t think anything could ever taste so goddamn good.
No better than a man, wiggling your own hips down into the mattress to chase friction you couldn’t find, pushing your tongue in-and-out as her muscles twitched and tensed beneath your fingertips.
Suguru had never gotten you half as wet as her.
Never worked you up like this, left you soaked and squirming without even being touched. Your thighs pressing together to push down the heat stirring in your core, your pulse pounding so hard you nearly couldn’t hear her whining over it.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I-I-”
You knew Satoru loved to chatter.
But once you were inside her it was like she physically couldn’t shut up, stammering and stuttering out curses, straining against the binds on her wrists and whining about not being able to see you.
“P-please, wanna see you, want to, oh god,” she begged, the beautiful arch of her back nearly breaking your resolve as heat soared straight up to cloud your head.
And before you could stop yourself, you were twisting around, angling your hips down to put your own pussy perfectly above her mouth, shutting her up by giving her something to lick and suck instead.
“Oh, fuck, ngh-”
Her words traded in for another heated moan as she shoved her tongue inside you, swirling it in with a desperation you found yourself quick to succumb to.
It really wasn’t fair that she was so good at everything you tried.
But you still refused to completely lose yourself, working harder to make her cum first, slipping your thumb up to her clit, only pulling off to start cooing and condescendingly coaxing her into coming undone, copying the same methods she so expertly pulled on you.
“C-come on,” you murmured, dragging your thumb in a slow circle as she shifted to suck on your clit just right, driving you right to the brink with her eagerness to give you everything she had. “Show me how much you love me.”
Preferably by falling to pieces on your tongue.
Sweat practically dripping off her, her moans reverberating through you as her body began to shake. On the very brink of breaking, pushed closer and closer as she started to cry out your name.
Her soft voice was music to your ears, a soft purr that made all the knots in your stomach pull tight instead of making them curdle like Suguru’s sometimes had.
You slipped your fingers inside her, feeling the way her walls squeezed down on them, trying to keep you in as you worked her oversensitive bud. She made a cute little squeak, her tongue lolling out as she began to babble again, “S’too much, I-I-”
“Shhh,” you murmured, pressing your tongue down as she spasmed and whimpered desperately at the sensation. “Can’t you cum for me?”
You glanced back over your shoulder to see the sight of her nodding hard and fast, the blindfold slightly crooked and her hands clawing at the pillow as she chased her climax.
“Put that pretty tongue of yours to better use,” you softly suggested, ignoring the initial discomfort at your reversed roles as you grinded your hips down on her face.
Apparently, your Toru could be a good listener too when she tried.
Doing her best to devote her tongue to you right up until the moment she couldn’t hold herself together anymore, cumming with a cry into your clit as your fingers found a sweet spot right below her cervix, pressing on it as you teased her swollen bud with the tip of your own pink muscle.
She was trembling, her legs twitching and toes curling as she let out devastated little whines that it wasn’t fair, squirming as you cleaned her up, enjoying the way she whimpered every single time your tongue dragged over her skin.
You could spend eternity buried between her thighs.
Or with hers between yours.
So what if it might be too much to ask?
She would make the universe give it to you anyway.
ε✿з
“My pretty princess.”
And her not terribly ugly son.
Satoru traced your face with her fingers, sighing to herself as the morning sun kissed your face, bathed you in beautiful warmth – oh, and the baby in your arms. Both of you snoozing softly, drool leaking out on your nightdress as you slept on your side, blissfully unaware of the outside world.
You made a pretty mother. Loved the little bastard Satoru did her best to tolerate.
Cradling an infant that neither of you had to carry, kissing his forehead and proudly showing him off to the other members of the court after he was born.
He’d never know he wasn’t yours. No one would.
Satoru would make sure of it.
His mother had been more than happy to take the estate. Especially when she knew the alternative would be Satoru taking her tongue to ensure she’d never talk.
She was still keeping tabs though. Just to be safe.
To make sure that this happy little family of hers would stay that way.
The nobles had protested. Insisted that she had no place as queen with Suguru dead. But his son, with his soft purple eyes and dark hair, well, that was enough to buy her eighteen more years.
Of course, there were still whispers.
Rumors swirled that she quickly snuffed out, either with quiet compensation or cold force. So what if a few more people had to be poisoned to protect your life together?
Rewriting history hadn’t been that hard.
No one needed to remember how much she hated Suguru. Or how rocky the marriage had been.
She got to be the mourning widow. The gracious wife still honoring her deceased husband by letting his bastard child be the heir. Raising him with a concubine instead of throwing both of them out.
That was how she’d be remembered.
“Good morning,” you yawned, slowly cracking your eyes open as you smiled at her.
“Sleep well?” She inquired, tempted to pick up the baby and place him back in his cradle so she could be cuddled instead.
You still had nightmares sometimes. Ones where you’d thrash around and she’d have to scoop him up and call for a wet nurse to take him until morning.
Waking you up to soothe you, stroking your hair and pretending not to know she was the reason for them.
And yet, you looked at her like she hung the sun in the sky and shined bright enough to chase away all the shadows. To bury the skeletons somewhere you’d never see them.
“Mhm,” you hummed, affectionately glancing between his chubby cheeks up to Satoru’s persistent pout as she puffed air into them.
“Have any attention left for me?” She pleaded, craning her neck over them to dramatically wait for you to press a gentle kiss to her nose.
The best thing about Fairy-types being added as a counter to Dragons is that the type no longer has to be given exclusively to Legendaries and Great Beasts of Immesurable Power and instead they get to go a little freaky with it
What if worm in an apple but like, wyrm in an apple haha. Let's make 5 of those
snowghoul
amandla
ellievsbear
kianamaiart
prguitarman
romaincrisis
