The Shower Demon

Shinobu Kocho was not the typical fairytale princess sung about by bards. She didn't wait for princes on white horses, she didn't embroider by the window, and she absolutely loathed noisy balls. Her passion was science. Her quarters resembled an alchemist's laboratory, cluttered with flasks, dried herbs, mortars, and ancient folios on botany and poisons. She possessed an incredibly sharp mind, an even sharper tongue, and the grace of a venomous butterfly.

And your overprotectiveness irritated her endlessly, to the point of a nervous tic.

"[Y/N], tell me, for mercy's sake," Shinobu's voice rang out with that deceptively sweet intonation that usually made courtiers' blood run cold. She looked up from an ancient parchment and stared at you. "Why are you checking the window latches for the third time in the last half-hour? We are on the fourth floor of a guarded tower. If anyone climbs up here, it will be an exceptionally determined pigeon."

You froze by the window, removing your hand from the metal latch. Your face remained absolutely serious and inscrutable. Your devotion was sincere, crystal clear, and devoid of any irony.

"Your Highness, security tolerates no compromises," you replied in a even, almost solemn tone, straightening to attention. "Birds can carry infections. Furthermore, history knows cases where assassins used special hooks to infiltrate the upper floors of castles. It is my duty to eliminate any threat to your health, however negligible the probability."

Shinobu sighed heavily, rubbing the bridge of her nose with slender fingers. "Sometimes I think you were assigned to me as an exquisite punishment for my sins in a past life," she muttered, returning to her reading. "You are like a shadow. I can't even peacefully gather mint in the palace garden without you scanning every bush for an ambush. You scare away all the butterflies with your gloomy aura."

"Butterflies can be carriers of poisonous pollen, my Princess," you countered, not taken aback for a second, sincerely believing every word you spoke. "I am prepared to challenge any insect should it dare approach you too closely."

The Princess merely rolled her beautiful purple eyes. She compared you to the heroes of old legends—as if she were a princess seeking knowledge, and you were a silent, unrelenting warrior whose sole purpose in life was reduced to following in her footsteps.

But Shinobu did not know the whole truth. She saw only your irritating, suffocating care, your knightly stubbornness, and your sense of duty driven to the absurd.

She did not know that behind this steel facade was a heart that beat only for her.

Your love for Shinobu was absolute. You were madly in love with her. With her sarcastic comments, with the way she wrinkled her nose when reading complex texts, with her laughter that sounded like the chiming of silver bells, with her scent of wisteria and antiseptics. You loved her so much that this love sometimes caused you physical pain. You knew your place—a simple knight could never stand beside a person of royal blood as an equal. Therefore, you sublimated all your unspoken feelings into service. You decided that if you could not become her lover, you would become her absolute, impenetrable shield. You were ready to drop everything: your life, your interests, your comfort—just to indulge her desires and see her safe.

Deep autumn arrived. The trees had shed their leaves, and the air became biting, saturated with the smell of dampness and decay. It was at this time of year, Shinobu claimed, that a special kind of moon aconite bloomed—a plant critically important for her new antidotes.

The problem was that this aconite grew in only one place. Her path lay to an old, forgotten cabin in the woods, located several days' journey from the capital. It was a gloomy, heavily overgrown place, far from civilization.

When she announced her intention to travel there, the Royal Council was categorically opposed. The forests teemed with demonic creatures. But Shinobu knew how to get her way. And, of course, you were appointed as her escort.

"Just you and me, [Y/N]," she said then, packing a travel bag with reagents. "If we take a squad of the royal guard, they'll trample all the rare plants with their dirty boots before we even reach the cabin. I am counting on your vaunted professionalism. But I implore you, let's do without your paranoid checks of every stump along the way."

"As you command, Your Highness," you bowed, though everything inside you clenched with anxiety.

The journey to the forest cabin took three days. And these three days were a true test of endurance for you. Not because of the hardships of the road, but because you were alone with Shinobu, away from court etiquette.

You rode your warhorse slightly ahead, constantly looking back to make sure her horse was moving evenly. You cleared the path of fallen branches, you were the first to taste water from the streams before allowing her to fill her canteen, and you didn't close your eyes for a second during the night halts. You sat by the fire, gripping the hilt of your sword, listening to her even breathing, ready to tear apart with your bare hands anyone who dared disturb her sleep.

By the evening of the third day, you reached your destination. The old forest cabin, built of logs darkened with age, stood in a small clearing, surrounded by ancient pines. The place seemed peaceful, but your instincts screamed danger. The forest was too quiet. No birdsong, no chirping insects could be heard.

"Perfect," Shinobu muttered, dismounting. Her eyes lit up with that same fanatical scientific glow you loved so much. She immediately grabbed her tools and headed toward the thickets behind the cabin. "The aconite must be somewhere here, in the shade of the old roots. [Y/N], tie up the horses and build a fire inside the cabin, it's getting cold."

"Your Highness, I beg you not to wander far," your voice trembled with tension. You jumped off your horse, your hand reflexively dropping to the hilt of your greatsword. "I do not like the silence of this forest."

"Your overprotectiveness again," Shinobu carelessly waved it off, not even turning around. She knelt by the roots of an old oak, carefully cutting silver leaves with a small sickle. "Relax, [Y/N]. There's no one here but us and the squirrels. Get to work."

You wanted to argue, but the habit of unquestioning obedience to her orders won out. You gritted your teeth and headed toward the horses. You had barely managed to tie the reins to an old post near the cabin's porch when a sound pierced the air that made your blood run cold.

It was a low, guttural growl, emanating not from one side, but seemingly from all sides at once. From the thicket of the forest, from behind the tree trunks, they began to emerge into the clearing.

Demons.

There were dozens of them. Distorted, grotesque creatures with glowing red eyes in the darkness, claws capable of tearing steel, and jaws dripping venomous saliva. This was no chance encounter. It was an organized ambush. A horde that had scented royal blood.

Your heart skipped a beat.

"SHINOBU!" For the first time in your life, you forgot about titles. Your scream, full of primal terror, echoed through the clearing.

Shinobu spun around sharply, dropping her sickle. Her purple eyes widened in shock as she saw the wall of monsters advancing on her. She was intelligent, she knew demon anatomy, but she was not a close-combat warrior. She had only a small poisoned dagger, absolutely useless against such a crowd.

One of the demons, resembling a huge, mutated wolf, lunged in her direction with a snarl. Shinobu froze, paralyzed by the suddenness of the attack.

She didn't even have time to close her eyes before a steel wall rose between her and the monster.

You didn't remember how you covered the distance separating you. Your body acted on pure instinct, fueled by an extreme dose of adrenaline. Your greatsword, heavy and merciless, described a lethal arc, cleaving the demon wolf in two mid-air. Dark, acrid blood splattered in all directions, staining your silver armor and face.

You landed heavily on the ground, shielding Shinobu with your back. Your breathing was ragged and hoarse. You gripped the sword hilt tighter, assuming a defensive stance.

"Your Highness," your voice was cold, devoid of panic, though everything inside clenched with fear for her. "Slowly, making no sudden movements, retreat to the cabin. Lock the door."

"[Y/N]… there are too many of them!" Shinobu's voice trembled. For the first time, her sarcasm and self-confidence had vanished without a trace. She stared at the dozens of red eyes glowing in the twilight. "We must run to the horses!"

"The horses are already dead," you stated dryly, noticing out of the corner of your eye how several demons were tearing your steeds to pieces near the cabin porch. There was no escape route. You were cut off. "To the cabin. Now! I will hold them off."

The demons, infuriated by the loss of their kin, roared in unison and surged into attack.

Hell broke loose.

You were not an unfeeling mechanism. There were no magical powers or invulnerability of gods within you. You were human, and you knew what pain was. Your muscles burned from unhuman strain as you parried the attacks of creatures far superior to you in strength and speed.

Your sword struck without miss. You lopped off limbs, hacked off heads, turning the clearing before the forest cabin into a bloody slaughterhouse. But there were too many of them.

The first blow broke through your defense three minutes into the fight. Long, blade-like claws of a demon pierced a gap in the joint of your armor on your left shoulder, tearing flesh to the bone. You gritted your teeth, suppressing the scream of pain that nearly escaped your throat, and with a counter-strike, took the creature's head off.

Can't fall. She's behind me. If I fall, they get to her.

This single thought became your beacon. It drowned out the agony that began to spread through your body. You retreated step by step, forcing Shinobu to back toward the cabin porch, creating a living, bleeding shield between her and certain death.

The impact of another demon's massive paw threw you backward. You slammed into the wooden post of the cabin with a sickening crunch. The pain was blinding, real, and unbearable. You felt several ribs break, puncturing a lung. Breathing became painful, and a distinct, rusty metallic taste of your own blood appeared in your mouth.

You were not a robot. Your vision began to blur from shock and blood loss. Your legs were giving way. Every fiber of your human being begged you to fall, close your eyes, and surrender to this pain.

But you heard Shinobu's frightened cry behind you as she tried to open the jammed cabin door.

And you forced yourself to rise.

With a roar full of desperation and absolute, mad love, you pushed off the post. You threw yourself into the thickest of the remaining demons. You were no longer defending. You shifted into a blind, furious offense, paying no mind to the blows raining down on you from all sides.

Claws tore your chainmail, fangs sank into unprotected patches of skin on your thighs and arms. Your body turned into a singular, pulsating wound. But you continued to hack, spinning the heavy sword, drenching the clearing with blood—theirs and your own.

When the cabin door finally gave way and Shinobu screamed your name in terror, calling you inside, you landed the final blow.

The horde leader's head rolled across the withered grass. The remaining few demons, frightened by your unhuman fury and seeing their leader's death, howled and retreated into the dark thicket of the forest, dissolving into the gloom.

The clearing plunged into a ringing, eerie silence, broken only by your hoarse, ragged breathing.

You stood in the midst of the carnage, leaning on your blood-soaked sword. Your left eye was swollen shut with blood from a wound on your forehead. Your armor was torn to shreds, and the ground beneath your feet was soaking red.

"[Y/N]!" Shinobu's voice broke into sobs. She rushed out of the cabin, no longer caring about her royal pride or clean dress. She threw herself at you, her hands trembling as she tried to support you.

You slowly, with immense effort, turned your head toward her. Your vision was out of focus. You saw only the silhouette of her face, distorted by panic and tears.

"Are you… unhurt… Your Highness?" your voice was quiet, bubbling due to the blood in your lungs.

"Shut up! Gods, just shut up, don't talk!" Shinobu wept, her hands sliding frantically over your hacked-apart armor, trying to find the source of the heaviest bleeding, but wounds were everywhere. She, a brilliant medic, felt absolutely helpless in the face of such catastrophic injuries. "You idiot! Why did you put yourself in the way of the blows?!"

"My duty…" you attempted to smile weakly, but your lips wouldn't obey. Your knees finally gave way. The sword fell from your weakened fingers with a clang. "My duty is to protect you… my Princess… my Shinobu…"

That was the last thing you managed to utter before the world around you finally went dark, plunging into absolute, merciful darkness.

Returning to life was like slowly surfacing from the bottom of an ocean filled with broken glass.

First, smells returned—the sharp, sterile aroma of rubbing alcohol mixed with the soothing scent of chamomile and lavender. Then hearing returned—muffled footsteps, the quiet rustle of parchment, distant voices. And only then did the pain arrive.

It wasn't acute, as it had been during the battle. It was dull, all-consuming, and exhausting. It throbbed in every nerve ending, reminding you that your human body had been literally torn apart and reassembled.

With immense effort, you pried open heavy eyelids. White ceiling. Plain light walls, devoid of decorations. Silence and peace.

You were not in the barracks. You understood that immediately. The air here was different, lacking the smell of sweat, weapon oil, and crude soldier jokes. It was the medical wing of the castle, an isolated, light room, located far from the noisy training grounds and the guards. A place designated for high-ranking officers.

You tried to move, but your body was tightly fixed with bandages, splints, and dense dressings. Your left arm was completely immobilized, your chest tightly bound by a corset due to broken ribs. Every movement, even the slightest, echoed with deafening pain in your lungs.

But physical agony was negligible compared to what began in your head as soon as clarity of thought returned to you.

Where is Shinobu? What happened to her? Who escorted her back to the castle? Who is guarding her quarters right now?

Questions swarmed in your inflamed consciousness like a swarm of venomous wasps. Panic, sticky and suffocating, began to tighten around your throat.

You remembered the fight by the forest cabin. Remembered losing consciousness. How much time had passed? Days? Weeks? All this time, the Princess had been without her primary protection. Yes, the castle was guarded by hundreds of guardsmen, but you trusted none of them. You knew they were lazy, that they missed patrols, that they didn't notice the small details you noticed. Only you could guarantee her absolute safety.

And now you lay here. Bedridden. Useless.

A sense of guilt washed over you with such force that tears of frustration with yourself welled up in your eyes. You are a knight who gave a sacred vow. Your life belonged to her. And you allowed yourself to break. You allowed demons to defeat your body, forcing Shinobu to watch. You made her experience fear. You left her defenseless.

"You are awake."

A quiet, stern voice interrupted your self-flagellation. At the foot of the bed stood Aoi Kanzaki, the castle's chief healer and the Princess's right hand in medical matters. Her face was pale from lack of sleep, and deep shadows lay under her eyes.

"Lady Aoi…" your voice was a weak, hoarse whisper. "The Princess… Shinobu… is she safe?"

Aoi sighed heavily, approaching closer and checking the bandages on your chest. Her movements were professional, but a clear disapproval read in her eyes.

"Her Highness is absolutely safe. She was physically unharmed in that incident," the healer replied dryly, avoiding looking you in the eyes. "Unlike you. You lay in delirium for nearly two weeks. You have multiple fractures, muscle tissue tears, and massive blood loss. It's a miracle you are even alive. The Princess personally directed the operation and didn't leave your side for the first few days until the crisis passed."

This news struck you harder than any blade. Shinobu didn't leave your side. The Princess spent her precious time and energy, risked her own health, saving the life of a simple knight who couldn't fulfill his primary function—to stay on his feet.

"I need to… I need to get up," you gritted your teeth, attempting to lean on your healthy right arm. Pain instantly shot through your back, forcing you to scream painfully and collapse back onto the pillows. Your forehead broke out in a cold sweat.

"Are you out of your mind?!" Aoi sharply pinned you to the bed by your uninjured shoulder. Her voice broke into a yell. "You are strictly forbidden from getting up! Any sudden movement could provoke internal bleeding! You will remain in this bed for at least a month; that isHer Highness's direct order!"

"I cannot lie here!" your voice trembled with desperation and pain. A treacherous tear rolled down your cheek. "Who is on duty at her door? The guard isn't enough. I must check the windows. I must check her food. I am her shield! I must be there!"

Aoi looked at you with outright pity. "Your shield is cracked, knight. You can't even lift a sword right now. Calm down. The Princess has forbidden anyone from entering your chambers so you won't be disturbed. You need rest."

She poured a bitter concoction into your mouth, from which an artificial heaviness instantly spread through your body. Your protesting cry died down, yielding to medicinal sleep.

But this sleep brought no relief. It brought nightmares.

Your days and nights merged into one endless cycle of pain, medicinal delirium, and suffocating guilt. Aoi would come, change the bandages, force you to drink concoctions, and leave, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You hadn't seen Shinobu since you woke up. Aoi said the Princess was busy with state affairs and research, that she didn't have time to visit the medical wing. But your paranoid brain, poisoned by guilt, drew completely different pictures.

You dreamed that Shinobu had rejected you. That she, irritated by your weakness, had found herself a new, strong knight who didn't fall after the first fight. You dreamed that demons had broken into the castle, and you were lying bedridden, hearing her cries for help, unable to even move a finger.

These nightmares haunted you every night. They were so realistic that you would wake up screaming, gasping for terror, your shirt sticking to your body from cold, clammy sweat, and your pulse beating so hard it felt like it was preparing broken ribs for a new blow.

It happened at the end of the fourth week of your confinement.

It was an ungodly hour—that very hour before dawn when the darkness is deepest and the castle's silence seems deafening.

You woke up from a nightmare again. In this dream, you saw a poisonous blade pierce Shinobu's heart while the guards slept carelessly at their post. You snapped your eyes open, gasping for air frantically. Your chest responded with a dull, throbbing pain, but adrenaline drowned it out.

She is alone. She is in danger. I must see her. I must make sure she is alive.

This thought displaced all remnants of common sense. You could no longer trust Aoi's words. You had to see her with your own eyes.

Gritting your teeth to the point of screeching, you slowly, inch by inch, slid your uncooperative legs off the bed. Every movement was torture. Broken ribs protested, muscles unaccustomed to strain trembled. You leaned your healthy arm on the edge of the nightstand and forced yourself to stand.

The world before your eyes wavered dangerously. A ringing started in your ears. Your forehead broke out in large drops of sweat. But you stood.

You were in a thin white shirt, barefoot. You didn't bother looking for shoes or a cloak. You took the first, uncertain step toward the chamber door.

It opened with a quiet click. The corridors of the medical wing were deserted and plunged in darkness, lit only by rare oil lamps on the walls. The cold stone of the floor burned your bare soles, but you almost didn't feel it. You felt only the pain in your body and the all-consuming, irrational fear for the Princess.

You walked, stumbling, holding onto the cold stone walls. Your breathing was hoarse and whistling in the empty corridors. The path from the medical wing to the Princess's quarters, which used to take five minutes of brisk walking, now felt like long kilometers of endless agony.

You stopped every few meters, leaning against the wall to catch your breath. Your knees bent, your eyes darkened, but stubbornness and blind, mad love drove you forward. You were not an unfeeling mechanism. You were a fragile, broken human who stayed on their feet exclusively through willpower.

You passed the guard post on the third floor—as you expected, two guardsmen were sleeping peacefully, leaning against their halberds. Your rage at their carelessness gave you strength. No one will protect her but me. No one.

Finally, after an entire eternity of agonizing, tortuous path, you reached the massive carved doors of her quarters on the fourth floor of the tower.

Your hand, trembling from weakness and tension, settled on the bronze handle. You expected the doors to be locked, but they yielded with a quiet creak.

You fell inside, stumbling over the threshold, and leaned heavily, with a loud thud against the doorframe, unable to take another step. Your chest hove, your face was deathly pale, streams of sweat mixed with tears of pain and exhaustion running down it.

The room was lit by the dim light of a candle on the desk.

And there she sat.

Shinobu was dressed in a simple nightgown. She was not asleep. She was reading some thick medical reference book, her face looking tired, and deep shadows lying under her eyes, just like Aoi's.

Hearing the noise, she spun around sharply. Her purple eyes widened in absolute, unfeigned horror when she saw you standing in the doorway in a torn hospital shirt, barefoot, pale as death, and gasping for air heavily.

"[Y/N]?!" her voice broke. She jumped up from the desk, sweeping a stack of parchments to the floor, and was by your side in the blink of an eye.

She barely managed to catch you as your legs finally failed completely. You collapsed into her embrace. Your weight dragged her down, and you both sank onto the soft carpet near the entrance. Shinobu carefully, so as not to damage your broken ribs, sat you down, hugging you.

"You… you are alive…" you whispered, your voice barely audible, full of tears and mad, feverish relief. Your healthy hand clutched the fabric of her dress in a death grip. "I thought… they were sleeping… guards were sleeping… demons could…"

"What are you babbling about? Oh gods, you are burning up! You have a fever again!" Shinobu was in panic. Her usually cool, calculated hands were trembling now as she felt your face, sweeping sweat-soaked hair from your forehead. "Why did you get up?! Aoi told me you were still too weak! You could have killed yourself stumbling on the stairs! Have you gone mad?!"

"I could not… could not lie there," you sobbed, your steel armor finally crumbling. The pain accumulated over these weeks, the guilt, the fear—all of it burst outward. You pressed your forehead to her shoulder, unable to restrain the sobs racking your broken body. "Forgive me… Your Highness… Forgive me for my weakness. I failed you. I couldn't protect you. I fell. I left you alone. You are angry with me… that's why you didn't come… I am a bad knight."

Words poured from you mixed with ragged breathing and groans of pain. You were pouring out all your delirium, all your paranoia, expecting her to confirm your fears. Expecting her to contemptuously push you away for your pitiful vulnerability.

But Shinobu froze.

She listened to your incoherent words, full of despair and guilt, and her eyes filled with tears. She understood. Her brilliant mind finally put all the fragments together.

She saw your overprotectiveness. She saw your stubbornness. She saw how you covered her with your back from the demons' claws, taking the mortal blows. And now she saw you—broken, streaming with sweat and tears, having traversed the castle corridors in a state close to agony, not for yourself, but just to make sure she, Shinobu, was alive.

It was not just a knight's vow. It was something far deeper, more painful, and beautiful.

"Oh, my foolish, stubborn, unbearable idiot," Shinobu whispered, her voice cracking with the overflow of her emotions. Tears ran down her cheeks, falling onto your hair.

She didn't scold you. She didn't call the guard or Aoi.

Instead, Shinobu hugged you even tighter, wrapping her arms around your head and burying her face in your hair. She stroked your back, avoiding the bandages, her touches incredibly gentle, devoid of any sarcasm or irritation.

"I didn't come not because I was angry with you, [Y/N]," the Princess spoke quietly, tears in her voice, rocking you in her embrace. "I didn't come because I couldn't bear to look at what you had become. I felt guilty. I was the one who dragged you to that forest. It's because of my whims you were on the brink of death. Every time I saw your wounds, I hated myself."

You froze, ceasing to cry. You raised your head with difficulty to look at her. In her purple eyes, usually so mocking and secretive, there was now only naked sincerity and deep, wounded love.

"You… are not angry?" you whispered incredulously.

"I am only angry that you do not value your own life," Shinobu smiled bitterly, gently wiping tears from your cheeks with her thumbs. "Do you think I need a soulless shield of steel? Do you think I want you to die for me? You irritated me with your overprotectiveness for so long because I saw that you were hiding behind it. You were hiding yourself behind it."

She leaned closer, her breath touching your lips.

"I do not need a knight, [Y/N]," Shinobu whispered, her gaze moving to your lips, then back to your eyes. "I need you. Alive. Breathing. And, preferably, not crawling across cold floors in the middle of the night with broken ribs."

Your heart, despite weak and in pain, skipped a beat, and then began to beat in a crazy, triumphant rhythm. All your fears, all complexes, and guilt dissolved in the warmth of her hands and in the meaning of her words.

You slowly, with a trembling hand, reached out and touched her cheek.

"I… I just cannot do otherwise," you confessed, and your voice no longer sounded like a vassal's vow. It was the voice of a woman in love. "You are everything I have, Shinobu."

Shinobu closed her eyes, pressing against your palm.

"Then you'll have to learn to protect yourself too. Because if you make me go through such horror again, I will personally poison you with my best venom," she muttered, opening her eyes, in which those familiar cunning sparks danced through tears again.

She gently but confidently leaned in and pressed her lips to yours.

It was not a kiss from fairy tales. You had chapped lips, you smelled of medicines and sweat, and your ribs burned with fire. But for both of you, this kiss became healing. It was salty with tears, full of desperation, tenderness, and promises unspoken over years. Shinobu kissed you so carefully, as if afraid to break you completely, yet so firmly, as if wanting to transfer part of her life force to you.

When you, gasping, tore away from each other, Shinobu smiled—this time warmly, sincerely, and only for you.

"And now, my unbearable, heroic knight," she purred, carefully helping you rise to your feet, supporting you by the waist, "we are returning to the medical wing. And I will personally see that you don't get out of bed for another month. I will sit beside you, read you the most boring medical reference books, and spoon-feed you until you howl from my overprotectiveness. Let's see how you like being in my place."

You laughed weakly, wincing from pain in your chest, but for the first time in long weeks, this pain did not matter. You leaned on her, walking through the dark corridors of the castle.

you straddle Cthoni’s lap, hands tangling in her short blue hair while hers travel down your lower back, fingertips brushing underneath the waistband of your panties. her lips move against yours with intensity you’ve never seen her display before today.

her hands travel up your back until they find the clasp of your bra, and snap it open hastily. by now, she’s undressed you nearly all the way, all while making out with you, all in the span of just a few minutes.

you pull back for air, panting against her lips as you try to catch your breath. that’s short lived though, because her middle finger has already found it’s way to your slick folds, pulling a moan from your lips instantly. she taps her fingertip at your entrance a few times, before getting impatient and shoving it in with a huff.

you could tell she was worked up, and mad. and when she was mad? she fucked good.

but that wasn’t where your mind was. your mind was on the way she added another finger just seconds later, pistoning them in and out of you rapid-fire. she drank in your shaky gasps. they fuel her on to curl her fingers, caressing your gooey walls so perfectly.

you start to lift a shaky hand to wrap around her wrist, when she stops you in your tracks. in an instant, she has you flipped over, fingers still keeping that cruel pace while her free hand presses down on your stomach - right where her fingers are inside of you. your back arches up at the feeling, and she smirks.

seconds later, white hot pleasure blurs your vision as you cum, eyes reaching the back of your head as you cry out “holy fuck!” Cthoni’s gaze travels from your blissed out expression, down to the slick and sticky mess between your thighs. and suddenly, she’s on a mission, spreading your thighs with her palms yet again, and diving in hungrily.

you barely have time to recover from your orgasm before you feel her tongue lapping up your juices, and you have to hold back a whine from sheer overwhelm. her tongue is working magic, with long, flat strokes up your folds that feel like heaven on earth. her hands are still gripping firmly on your thighs, keeping you spread wide so she can enjoy her meal. she sucks the sensitive bud of your clit between her lips before pulling off, seemingly deciding she’s done. you’re left gasping, chest heaving, and honestly confused. and your smug girlfriend is relaxed as ever, leaning back against the pillows next to you, arms behind her head, savoring the taste of you in her mouth.

so after you’ve taken a minute to catch you breath? you get your revenge. you settle yourself between her legs, starting to pull her shorts down.

she cracks an eyes open, looking down at you. “really?”

“really.” you confirm, discarding her panties as well. you part her knees with one hand, the other tracing her wet cunt. “worked up, are you?” you tease. she just grumbles something quietly, crossing her arms over her chest and shifting a little.

it doesn’t take long for her to loose the unbothered demeanor, though, because her hips are soon bucking up to meet your hot mouth. she can’t ignore the way your tongue prods at her entrance while your thumb presses just right on her clit. in the matter of a few minutes, her legs are twitching beneath you, and one of her hands is fisting in your hair unceremoniously.

you look up as she reaches her breaking point, and it’s just beautiful. your tough girlfriend - who doesn’t usually say much, and works out twice as much as she talks - has her head tilted back, with strangled moans coming from the back of her throat. you rarely hear these noises from her, but when you do get to? you make sure to soak in every second of it.

you keep your mouth sealed firmly over her pulsing cunt as she rides out her orgasm, then press a soft kiss to her thigh, and move up to lay beside her. you don’t say anything, don’t need to. your shared heavy breaths are enough. the food on the stove crosses your mind for a second. whatever…that can wait for later. you drape an arm across her stomach and nuzzle into the dip between her breasts. she just sighs and wraps an arm around your back, bringing you closer to her.

A/N - send asks so i don’t die of boredom on this damn flight☹️