#I just want more content that explores them having this deep bond is that so much to ask!!! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fueledbysano · 1 year ago

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𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓!

welcome! here at rent-a-boyfriend, we understand that everyone has unique needs and desires, which is why we signed up a roster of men to fit your preferences! whether you want to piss off your ex or need a date on that company event, our team of charming boyfriends are waiting for you!

♱ ft. chifuyu, baji, ran, rindou, hanma, shinichiro, wakasa

♱ content: fake dating, fluff, humor, romance. [ wakasa's: suggestive ].

♱ a/n: a lil warmup for everyone whom I wish I've written more of! a little idea I got while working on commissions so I'm indulging in it.

𓆩♡𓆪 our taglist of loyal customers: @iluvizana @livefromnc @scoobydoofruitsbacks @moon-byeol2001 @vivid-orchids @slqttttt @awkwardaardvarkforever @cawwn @silphyl @chunkygirl07 @keenkittenstrawberry @m4nj1ro1 @reiners-milkbiddies @mysouleaten @souyaddiction @saenora @smutbae @fuyuswifey

☥ @enchantedforest-network

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Chifuyu Matsuno | 26 | PET SHOP OWNER | 5’6 | LOYAL

Jokingly entering a lottery for a luxury couple’s cruise, you were surprised to receive a notification saying that you were the lucky winner! You now have to find a “spouse” for the trip. You’ve considered your friends, but all of them probably have commitments already. And then on the day of the cruise, Chifuyu greets you with flowers. He was so much cuter and in front of you. You settled into your luxurious cabin and began the journey.

On your first night, you tried the fancy dinner aboard the ship, shared your favorite dishes and chatted about your childhood memories associated with food. It struck you when he mentioned he was formerly a gang member, as he certainly did not look like one. you also bonded over your shared love of animals and memories of having owned pets as children, while Chifuyu told you all about the interesting things about these pets.

You also enjoyed a masquerade ball; Chifuyu was not the best dancer but he was so gentle with his movements. He was nervous at first, unsure how to navigate the party, but with your guidance and reassuring touch, he gradually relaxed and even started to enjoy the activity. You took the lead, taking him to the rhythm. With your hands on his shoulders and movements in synchrony with his, you glided across the dance floor, lost in the music and in each other's company just like dinner. Chifuyu was impressed by your confidence and grace on the dance floor. He couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and admiration for that.

After a long day of exploring the ports and enjoying the activities on the cruise, you decided to unwind at the couple's spa. On the way there, the two of you even came up with a fake love story in case the masseuse asks— you were high school sweethearts. Inside the spa, you settled into adjacent massage tables, holding hands and enjoying the deep tissue massages that the spa offered. The oil worked its magic onto your bodies, and you turned to Chifuyu, who seemed to be holding his laughter from being ticklish. You smiled at him and chuckled as you made eye contact, letting him know that you didn’t mind. You couldn't help but notice Chifuyu's toned body. His toned back and arms were on full display, you felt yourself being attracted to him in a way you hadn't been before.

As the week went on, you and Chifuyu continued to learn more about each other while also participating in the cruise activities, all while pretending to be a couple. By the end of the cruise, Chifuyu couldn't deny the connection he felt with you, and he was surprised by the depth of his feelings for someone he had only just met. It was then that he realized that despite being the one who was rented for the vacation, it was he who truly rented your heart. So when you visited his pet shop, he couldn't deny the connection you had and was happy to see you again. It’s against the rules of the rent-a-boyfriend services, but he does not need that anymore and so do you.

Baji Keisuke | 26 | VET | 5’9 | TSUN-TSUN

As you prepared for your family's Christmas trip, you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. Your relatives were constantly badgering you about finding a partner, and the pressure to conform to their expectations was starting to wear you down. That's why when you heard about a service that could provide you with a pretend boyfriend, you saw it as the perfect opportunity to get your family off your back and enjoy the trip without the constant constant nagging.

When you met Baji, you were surprised at how charming and easygoing he actually was. He was exactly the kind of guy your family would approve of, and he was happy to play the role of your boyfriend. Both you and your family were struck by how handsome and charming he was. His tall, lean figure and stunning eyes made him look like a model, but his warm smile and how gentle he was with your family made him seem accessible and likable.

You found yourself growing nervous as the time went on, but Baji was quick to pick up on your discomfort and put you at ease. He asked questions about your family and interests, and he made you a drink before settling into your room for the night. Baji then joked and laughed about things your parents have told earlier, making sure to give you a sense of ease and comfort with him. After all, you will be going on a trip together. You knew that you were both putting on an act, but you couldn't deny his potential of being an actual partner.

So the trip began, Baji proved to be a great choice. He was friendly and outgoing, easily striking up conversations with your relatives. He quickly became a favorite especially to the children in your family, who were drawn to his playful nature and witty banter. He spent time playing with them, telling jokes and stories, and generally being a fun and engaging presence. He was so good at interacting with the children that they started calling him "big bro Baji". He simply made a positive impression on everyone. He even went out of his way to compliment the cooking and offer to help with luggages, and making sure that everyone was taken care of, especially you, even if it meant putting himself in second place.

On the last day of the trip, you find yourself wondering how he was so good at handling family members, and he was more than happy to explain that he had a close relationship with his own mother growing up. He also said that in his career, he had come to see his animal patients as members of his own family. He described how he would take the time to get to know each animal individually, talking to them in the veterinary clinic and taking them out to play and explore. He told you that he believed that the key to understanding and connecting with other beings was to see them as unique individuals, just like people.

You did miss Baji after the trip. He had made such an impact on your family members, especially the children, that he was brought up in conversations even after he was gone. Your parents asked about him, and his absence was noted by the young ones who had grown so fond of him. You found yourself thinking about him often and wondering what he was up to. The trip had been such a special experience for you, and you felt grateful for the time you had shared together. Even though your relationship had been temporary and arranged, you found yourself wishing that you could see him again and continue your connection. So when you called him up for a “rental” again, it was to your surprise when Baji answered with “Don’t worry, this one’s on me.”

Hanma Shuji | 28 | PHOTOGRAPHER | 6'4 | DAREDEVIL

You have been struggling to keep your ex-boyfriend at bay. Despite repeatedly asking him to leave you alone, he would still find a way to contact you, whether through social media or by showing up at your workplace or at your apartment. You were worried about the situation and wanted it to stop, so you decided to hire a pretend boyfriend to make your ex-boyfriend back off. You chose Shuji Hanma, a 28-year-old photographer with a charismatic and handsome look. He also had a rebellious streak that made him perfect to play the role.

Hanma's stylish motorcycle added to the spectacle of his arrival at your apartment. As you rode away, you noticed that your neighbors were staring, probably wondering who the mysterious man on the motorcycle was. It was the same case when you arrived at your workplace, your colleagues were equally curious about the identity of the mystery man who waited for you at the lobby.

Hanma was engrossed in his work in the lobby, concentrating on editing his photos on the computer screen. He noticed the faint sound of footsteps approaching. The sound grew closer, and Hanma looked up to see your ex-boyfriend walking towards the seats. Hanma was not impressed, and he almost immediately approached him. “Hello, I'm Shuji Hanma. You are…?”

“Uhm, Touri—desu.” He was confused, but shook Hanma’s hand anyway, which he regretted… Hanma’s grip was undeniably strong, which turned his skin to crimson. “You new here, huh?” Hanma tried to remain cool. “Eh, not exactly.” The guy shrugged, and Hanma scoffed and took his belongings. “Well, I'll be on my way.” He headed to the receptionist and spoke loud enough, “Good afternoon, can you please deliver a message to my girlfriend, Miss [ L / N ]? I have our lunch~” This was enough to grab your ex’s attention, and he was visibly confused and angered.

Hanma immediately escorted you off the elevator when you arrived, letting you know of your ex’s presence as he protectively put an arm around you. Which seemed to work, because he was only angrily standing there with a piercing glare. Hanma was inarguably intimidating with his fierce eyes and tall height. As you sat together for lunch, you couldn't help but smile to yourself. You knew that your ex-boyfriend was watching from a distance, witnessing you having a wonderful time with another man. Hanma also appeared to be enjoying the situation, and he kept up his loving and affectionate demeanor throughout the meal, like Hanma taking your hand and kissing it, feeding you, and simply looking like a real couple. When in reality, you were also talking about your day so far and telling each other about the usual get-to-know topics.

After you walked out the restaurant together, your ex stepped forward and started yelling about how you could move on and replace him. “And with this twig?! Come on [ Y / N ], is this the best you got?” He chuckled and attempted to reach your arm. As he continued his tirade, Hanma lost his patience and punched him in the face. You were shocked at your pretend-boyfriend's sudden burst of violence, but you had to admit that it was somewhat satisfying to see your ex take a hit. Hanma quickly pulled you away from the scene and kicked your ex’s stomach. “Who’s the twig now? If I see your face again, I'm going to break every bone in your body.” He spat and then led you back to your apartment.

Once you were inside, Hanma apologized for his behavior and assured you that he only wanted to protect you. Still a bit shaken, you knew that Hanma had been there for you, and he did his role perfectly. You forgave him for resorting to violence and appreciated how devoted he had been to you with a generous tip, to which he answered, “I’m not leaving without making sure that guy never comes back.” You were taken aback when he took a seat on the couch by your front door. “And don't worry about the rent thing ♡” He winked. You were pretty sure he just enjoyed beating your ex, but you got yourself a pretty damn good fake boyfriend/guard dog.

Rindou Haitani | 30 | CLUB OWNER | 5’8 | GENTLEMAN, BUT A LITTLE NAUGHTY

You were feeling a bit down about attending the wedding of a college friend without a plus one. Your friends were all in loving relationships, and you were tired of being the odd one out. Rindou was intrigued by the request and quickly agreed. He looked forward to the opportunity to spend the evening with you and to help you feel less awkward.

Rindou was a stickler for presentation, so he took it upon himself to choose an outfit that would make you feel confident and comfortable. He asked you about the theme of the event, the colors of the invitations, and any personal style preferences you had. Using this information, he was able to find a perfect ensemble for the evening.

When you arrived at the venue, you felt a new sense of confidence. The dress that Rindou got tailored was a perfect fit, and the shoes made you feel taller and more sophisticated. You knew that you looked good, and that made you feel even more comfortable mingling with the other guests. Rindou had been right, the outfit had boosted your confidence, and it showed while he was happily your arm candy. As you continued to make your way toward the main event, Rindou couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity with the place. He quickly realized that he was one of the co-owners of the venue, and had completely forgotten to mention it to you. He felt a bit sheepish about the oversight and did not make a big deal out of it.

However, it did come back to bite him in the ass later on. “Mr. Haitani?” The groom took notice of his presence when the couple visited your table. “Pleasure to meet you, I did not see you on the guest list. What a surprise!” They shook hands. “My girlfriend is here with me.” He smiled and held you closely. “You didn’t tell us that your boyfriend owned the venue, [ Y / N ]-chan!” WHen the bride said that, it seemed that the other guests on the table now seemed more interested in you. “How did you meet?” “Is there a ring yet?” It was a bit of a shockwave to you and your friends. Suddenly it seemed as though they were all more interested in you than they were before, and you felt a tinge of discomfort, which Rindou easily picked up on.

“Oh, shut up…you won’t even talk to her two minutes ago…” Rindou scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Wanna ditch?” You were touched by his offer, and gladly accepted. You needed a break from the endless talk about your friends' relationships, and it was nice to have a place to escape to for a little while. Rindou took you to the bar of his brother’s hotel nearby, where you were able to enjoy your own night just by yourselves without having to impress people who you barely know anymore. “Sorry for not telling you sooner, it was exactly what I was trying to avoid…” Rindou knew his way around a bar, and you found yourself in the perfect spot with him at your side. He explained the menu items and suggested a few different drinks that he thought you might enjoy, making sure to cater to your tastes. You felt grateful for his attention, and you appreciated how much effort he was putting into the conversation.

As you sat at the bar, you found yourself opening up more than you ever thought you would. You talked about your job,hobbies, and even a little bit about your past relationships. Rindou was a great listener, and he made you feel comfortable enough to share details that you had never told anyone before. You loved the fact that even though he was a complete stranger, he was genuinely interested in your life and experiences. While he also had a fair share of stories, especially the reason behind joining the rental services despite being a wealthy businessman… Rich people get bored sometimes too, you know…

You felt like you had known Rindou for much longer than just one evening. You couldn't believe how quickly the time had passed, and you found herself wishing that the night could go on forever. As they closed down the bar and left the reception, Rindou walked you to the suite he offered, and you found yourself wishing that you had the courage to ask him if he would like to see eachother again…

Ran Haitani | 31 | CLUB OWNER | 6'0 | BOLD

You have been using your “fiance” as an excuse to get out of uncomfortable situations or company gatherings, but now you are facing a dilemma. Your boss was hosting a company outing, and you knew that you couldn't use the same excuse again because he personally invited “your fiance”.

Thinking quickly, you reached out to Ran and asked him to play the part of your fiance for the whole trip. You were relieved when he agreed, knowing that he was the perfect person to accompany you to the event. Ran was charming, charismatic and extremely meticulous so you knew he would be able to sell the "fiance" ruse perfectly.

Ran likes to live life to the fullest, and he's not afraid to splash out on extravagant things. He's handsome, wealthy, and he has a way with the ladies. “You wanna make this more believable? I’ll take you on a date before our flight ♡” He took you to the finest restaurants and their club, and he insisted on paying for everything. He bought you clothes to bring to the trip, and you took a lot of photos together to show around. And he of course did not forget the fiance scheme and took you to Cartier for ring shopping. You were surprised by Ran's opulent lifestyle, but you were also drawn to his confidence and charm. He's not afraid to take risks or to try new things, and you feel like you can learn a lot from him.

On the day of the flight, you pulled up at the airport in his luxury sedan, dressed to the nines that truly made you look like the real deal. Ran was a smooth talker and a natural flirt, and he made you feel like the most important person in the world. And being the actor that he is, Ran smoothly introduced himself to your boss and colleagues. But you only gave them a glimpse of your ruse, because Ran had bumped your seats to first class where you praised each other for your acting.

During the trip, you were treated like a queen by Ran. He was always making sure your needs were met and that you were comfortable. He would hold your hand in public, carry your things, and go out of his way to make sure you were comfortable and well-cared for. You liked the way he whispered sweet nothings in your ear, and the way he looked at you with a sparkle in his eye. You were constantly getting compliments on your clothing, accessories, and your perfect “fiance.” You knew it was all just an act, but you couldn't help but enjoy every minute of it. Ran was way too good.

One night, you and Ran spent the evening soaking in the bathtub on your hotel balcony, surrounded by the sounds of the sea and the stars sparkling above you. He uncorked a bottle of the finest champagne, enjoying the bubbly beverage as you talked about your actual lives. You took the opportunity to let loose and talk trash about your co-workers. Ran laughed and poked fun at their annoying habits and quirks as well, bonding over your shared experiences. Ran was a natural storyteller, sharing stories from his past and his dreams for the future.; while You were fascinated by his adventures and insights. In turn, you talked about your own hopes and dreams. Ran listened intently, offering advice and support where needed. The conversation flowed effortlessly, with no awkward silences or forced conversation.

Ran was a true professional, and he played his role as your fiance flawlessly throughout the trip. He remained attentive and gave you affection in front of everyone. You were impressed by his commitment to the bit and his ability to seamlessly slip into character and couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for him. He made you feel like you were the most important person in the world, and you were touched by his thoughtfulness and attention to detail.

You were seriously moved by Ran's dedication to the role, even as you said goodbye. He had played the part with such natural grace and ease that she had almost forgotten that it was all an act. You were grateful for his commitment to the bit and his attention to detail, and you enjoyed the fact that you had someone during the trip. “Come on, I can’t keep these.” With his gifts in your hands, you insisted. Of course, you could… But you thought it was polite to offer. Ran’s answer intrigued you, though… “Of course you can…” He chuckled and opened the door of your home. “We still have that wedding, right?” He winked and kissed your forehead before seeing his way out.

Shinichiro Sano | 36 | BIKE SHOP OWNER | 6'0 | CHIVALROUS

You had grown tired of your friends' incessant efforts to set you up on blind dates, with stupid college boys to make matters worse. You appreciated their well-meaning efforts, but you simply weren't interested in pursuing romantic relationships. And so you decided to seek the assistance of Shinichiro, hoping that his chivalrous disposition would be enough to convince your friends to lay off.

You decided that for the cover to be believable, you would need to go on a date with Shinichiro before hard-launching him to your friends. You also made sure that he was comfortable with playing the role and that you had a good rapport, but you had no idea what to do for your very real fake date. However, Shinichiro took the matter in his own hands and insisted you did not have to move a single joint.

You and Shinichiro arrived at the cafe of the main deck in Tokyo Tower, which offered breathtaking views of the city's skyline. You were seated at a corner table, giving a clear view of the vast expanse of lights and skyscrapers. It was a dreamy and romantic setting, enhanced by delicate table settings and soft music playing in the background.

Shinichiro treated you to a multi-course meal, where you savored a selection of traditional Japanese food. They were exquisite and perfectly prepared, and you couldn't help but be impressed by Shinichiro's good taste. You talked about everything and anything, from your childhood memories to your ongoing endeavors. Shinichiro was a good listener and made sure to ask thoughtful questions, ensuring that the conversation flowed smoothly. You were honestly impressed by his openness and genuine interest in you, and you found yourself sharing things that she had never shared with anyone else before. The conversation was so engrossing that you lost track of time, and it felt as though you had been talking for hours.

However, the motorcycle race of his little brother's team, "Top of Manji," was an exhilarating experience. You marveled at the skill and precision of the racers as they raced around the track at high speeds. Shinichiro's passion for mechanics was palpable, and he explained the intricacies of the race in detail. You were moved by his enthusiasm and felt grateful to have had the opportunity to share in such a unique experience, and it was genuinely warm to listen to Shinichiro talk about something he really loved.

And so the day arrived and you invited your friends for dinner at a restaurant you and Shinichiro had found, a Japanese izakaya that you thought they would enjoy. You had made a reservation for a medium table in the middle of the restaurant, where you would be surrounded by the lively atmosphere. After greetings and pleasantries, you finally introduced your friends to Shinichiro, revealing that he was your new boyfriend. They were all visibly surprised by the revelation, but Shinichiro turned on his charm, making small talk and engaging in witty banter with your friends. He was so natural at it, making everyone feel comfortable and included. You couldn't help but smile, feeling grateful for his presence and for the support he had shown you thus far.

Shinichiro was very affectionate towards you, making sure to pay attention to your needs and feelings. He cut your food, poured your drinks, and wiped the side of your lips. And as the evening wore on and the temperature dropped, he took off his jacket and casually offered it to you. It was relieving to see that your friends were starting to warm up to Shinichiro. They were impressed by his chivalry, intelligence, and sense of humor.

As the evening went on, she and Shinichiro grew more comfortable with each other, exchanging smiles and sharing inside jokes. Although your friends were initially skeptical about Shinichiro at first, however, as they spent more time with him, they began to see what she saw in him. They noticed his chivalrous nature and how he treated you with “love and respect”. They were impressed by his ability to hold a conversation and how engaging he was. They praised you for finding a good boyfriend and expressed their support for your relationship. This made you feel touched and felt grateful for their encouragement.

Shinchiro was an older man, but he carried himself with a youthful energy that was contagious. He had a kind heart and a charismatic smile, making it easy for you to feel at ease with him. He was a gentleman, always using polite language and good manners, but he also had a bit of mischief in him. He loved to make jokes and banter with you, and he always had a twinkle in his eye that made you smile. The dinner was a hit, and you were thrilled to see your friends enjoying themselves so much.

Maybe it was the fact that Shinichiro was older than the guys you previously dated and even older than yourself, but you actually enjoyed the extra attention and care that Shinichiro gave, as compared to your previous dates. You found yourself beginning to fantasize about having a real boyfriend like him, who would pamper and take care of you in the same way. It was a nice feeling to have someone who seemed to genuinely care about you, and you were grateful for the experience of dating him, even if it was just a temporary arrangement. Or will he allow it to remain that way?

Wakasa Imaushi | 36 | GYM OWNER | 5'3 | NONCHALANT

Wakasa Imaushi was the perfect person for your plan to win back your ex. He was charming, confident, and seemed to know how to treat a woman. Your plan was to make your ex jealous by spending time with Wakasa and having you paint a picture of a perfect couple.

He was impressed with your predictions on the whereabouts of your exes, and he was always ready to hop on your antics. Wakasa was a natural at billiards, while you considered yourself to be a bit of a novice. Despite this, he was patient with you and taught you the basics, guiding you through each shot. As you played, you stood closely together, with his hand on your back as he showed you how to grip the cue. As you finished up your game, you noticed your ex watching you from across the room, clearly jealous of the attention Wakasa was giving you. This only seemed to fuel Wakasa's desire to treat you like a princess, and up his game for your next “dates”.

As you waited outside your office building, you spotted Wakasa pulling up on a sports bike. It was obviously a labor of love for him, and it was clearly a statement piece— beautiful paint job, modifications, and powerful engines. He even got you your own helmet, and as you took a seat on the back of the bike, Wakasa revved the engine and took off down the road. You couldn't help but notice the looks of envy and jealousy from your ex-partner. You had always admired his bike, which was pretty decent, but Wakasa's was on another level. It was entirely his idea, knowing that it would take a hit on your ex’s ego. Which was right— he couldn't help but feel jealous of Wakasa and his newfound ability to make you happy and sent you a pretty petty text later on that day.

You eagerly showed Wakasa the text from your ex, and his reaction was everything you had hoped for. His expression turned into a proud smirk, and he leaned in closer to you as he read the text. You felt a sense of joy knowing that she had the upper hand in the situation and that your ex was feeling a sense of jealousy. No one could even see the two of you right now, but you were hanging out together in his gym, seemingly having a blast together. As part of your workout routine, Wakasa finds himself beginning to focus on helping you train, providing guidance and assistance as you lift weights. He was attentive and supportive, helping you with your form and demonstrating proper technique. Wakasa found himself enjoying the process and the feeling of coaching someone. You appreciated his guidance and support, and she felt a sense of satisfaction as you lifted heavier weights than you've ever had before…

“Don't fall in love with me, [ Y / N ]...” He made eye contact with you through the mirror as he held your waist. “Shut up.”

One particular day when you got off early at work, you and Wakasa found yourselves on a night out at his favorite drinking place, sipping drinks and enjoying each other's company. As they sat in the dimly lit bar, their conversation grew more intimate, personal, and playful, laughing and teasing each other. With the alcohol flowing, your inhibitions began to slip away, and before you knew it, you were locked in a deep, passionate kiss while you sat on his lap.

You were both surprised by the spontaneous kiss and felt your heart racing as you and Wakasa shared an intimate moment. “You’re making a mistake.” “Probably.” “Definitely…” You remained close together, not wanting to break apart just yet. The kiss was long and passionate, and it seemed to last forever. As you finally pulled away from each other, you both felt a sense of emptiness, wanting more of each other but unsure of what to do next.

As you woke up in Wakasa's place the next day, the reality of the previous night's events started to sink in. You realized that you had made a mistake in giving in to your urges, but at the same time, you couldn't help but want to continue doing it. You were hesitant at first, unsure of how to approach Wakasa about what happened, but you found herself drawn to him anyway. You knew that your relationship was still temporary and that you couldn't let your feelings get in the way of your agreement. Despite this, you found yourselves wanting to spend more time with him, both in your ruse and outside of it, all while pretending to Wakasa’s face that this still meant nothing.

It is certainly not common for a boyfriend-for-rent to give you a monthsary gift. Such gifts are typically given by a long-term romantic partner, or someone who is seeking a long-term relationship. Since the arrangement with Wakasa is meant to be temporary and was not originally intended to last longer than a few weeks or a months, it would not be expected for him to give you such a present. So you were surprised when Wakasa presented you with a small gift for your one-month anniversary. You were touched by the gesture, but you couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt knowing that you shouldn't be developing feelings for him…

ㅤㅤthank you for renting our boyfriends! did you catch feelings? we don't care! as long as you come back to see them again ;)

#tokyo revengers #chifuyu matsuno #chifuyu x reader #baji keisuke #baji x reader #hanma shuji #hanma x reader #ran haitani #ran x reader #rindou haitani #rindou x reader #haitani brothers #shinichiro sano #shinichiro x reader #wakasa imaushi #wakasa x reader #tokyo revengers imagines #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers scenarios

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deedeeznoots · 9 months ago

Note

Can we please get some hcs of Sukuna and reader in the fairytale AU 🥹🥹

Absolutely amazing writing I loved every single thing of it!💖💖

Cottage Life

➺ Characters: Ryomen Sukuna, Fem!Reader

➺ Word Count: 2.5k

➺ Genre: Fluff, Mentions of Smut

➺ Content: MDNI, Established Relationship, True Form!Sukuna, Princess!Reader, Swearing, Mentions of Murder, Mentions of Smut

➺ A/N: Hi Anon! Thank you for the kind words and the request, I’d love to do this. I’m so glad that people enjoyed my Sukuna Fairy Tale AU so I’m 100% going to explore the idea more. On another note, this is also my first ever request🥹 I’m giggling and kicking my feet at the thought of people enjoying my writing enough to want to request specific things for me to create so I just want to take the time to say if you have an idea for me to write anything specific please do not hesitate to ask! Thank you all very very much. :)

➺ Synopsis: Small glimpses into your daily life with Sukuna in the deep woods. While not fully necessary to understand these little snippets, reading the beginning of your story with Sukuna would certainly enhance the experience. <3

ꨄ Pre-Relationship: Secret Meetings ꨄ

➼ When you first began meeting with him regularly he was pretty mean to you and ignored you most of the time when you tried to talk to him. Despite this, he always kept you by his side anyways and didn’t deter you from meeting him.

➼ One time you straight up asked him why and he said it was because you brought food to him. While you accepted that answer, you knew inside that wasn’t really the case because he would still keep you around even after you both ate.

➼ After warming up to you one of the things that you two bonded over was the nature in the forest. Sukuna would explain the wildlife to you since you were unfamiliar for a long time and he was to your surprise, a really good teacher.

➼ He was able to answer any questions you had and went over every detail that he knew about the woods and was able to keep things interesting.

➼ When you both spent that night under the stars he was serious when he tried flirting with you but quickly realized what he did so he tried to play it off as a joke (he couldn’t be caught being too soft, after all).

➼ Since he’s so much stronger and bigger than you (and literally everyone lol) he makes sure to be extra cautious and gentle around you because despite what he seems like, he doesn’t want to genuinely scare people, especially you.

➼ Speaking of, he has no idea why you aren’t scared of him and doesn’t understand why you act like the way he looks is no big deal. He doesn’t complain though and never mentions it to you.

➼ One of the reasons you’re not scared of him is because he has saved your life more times than you could count, and why would you be scared of someone who continually keeps you alive, most of the time at his own expense?

➼ “No, don't eat those berries, they’re poisonous…wha-what do you mean you already had five?!”

➼ He had to do some poison control that day… and it wasn’t very fun.

➼ Every time he saves your life he always tells you that he’ll just leave you next time but you know that’s not true at all.

➼ You would also always get injured for stupid reasons so he’d take care of your wounds like he did when you both first officially met (he’d laugh first though)

➼ One of the days you visited you realized you had a talent for making flower crowns so you would spend a lot of time with him doing it while you both talked and walked around the woods.

➼ You mostly gave yours to him as a gift

➼ He would grumble and act like he hated it but he would keep them on anyway and he kept all of them. After a while it grew into a small collection that he secretly cherishes.

➼ Sukuna secretly (though, it wasn’t a secret to you) loved these meetings, and your visits were the highlight of his day every time.

ꨄ Early Relationship: Locked Away ꨄ

➼ Sukuna was confused at first when you stopped visiting him after sleeping with him.

➼ He thought he did something wrong and you didn’t have a good time, or that he hurt you in some way.

➼ He tried to put on the tough guy act at first and tried to convince himself that he didn’t like you all that much anyways.

➼ Obviously, it wasn’t true and he’s a big softy on the inside so he gave into his temptations to see you.

➼ When he saw the guards by your bedroom window, he realized what happened, and remembered that you always had to sneak out to see him.

➼ Once he realized what actually happened he chastised himself for being so pouty and feeling sorry for himself instead of going to see you sooner.

➼ To make up for this he goes to look at you every day as you stand by your window.

➼ Eventually, you noticed him and you both would spend the whole day just sitting with each other from afar.

➼ Sometimes he would see you cry when he visited and his heart would break because he couldn’t wipe your tears away.

➼ He has resisted the urge to attempt to fight the guards by your window more than he can count.

➼ Only reason he didn’t was his fear of making things worse for you if he did.

➼ On the day of your wedding, he noticed that you weren’t by your window like usual.

➼ He learned his lesson about giving up on you too soon, so he decided instead of leaving you be, that he would go around the castle and look for you to see if you were okay.

➼ Too invested in finding you, he didn’t realize that he stood a tad too close to some of the guards of your castle, leading to him getting caught by them.

➼ That turned out to be a happy accident however, as they led him directly to you and gave you both the chance to run away together.

➼ He was secretly proud of you stabbing someone so easily, but he’ll never tell you that directly.

ꨄ Long-Term Relationship: Cottage Life ꨄ

➼ When you both first found the cottage in the woods, it was in very rough shape.

➼ It was dirty, barely had a roof, and there were broken windows everywhere. It was obvious that no one had lived there for some time.

➼ Well… one man’s trash is another one’s treasure, and you both worked day and night to fix the cottage after first finding it.

➼ You weren’t used to any physical discomfort at all, so it took a while for you to get used to these types of conditions. However, Sukuna always made sure to help you feel better.

➼ For example, one time it rained and you two got super wet inside your home due to the roof not being 100% secure.

➼ It was tough for you. Not only were the two of you wet, but the inside of the home you both spent tons of time fixing up was flooded now as well.

➼ Thankfully, Sukuna always found a way to turn unfortunate situations upside down.

➼ “Come on, let’s go play in the mud, you didn’t eat enough dirt as a kid”

➼ You both immediately felt better once you played in the rain together… especially when Sukuna would be ever the romantic and lift you up to kiss you as water droplets fell on both of you.

➼ After months of sweat and tears, the cottage was finally fixed and cleaned.

➼ It quickly became the love of your life, second only to Sukuna, and you both quickly settled into your humble abode.

➼ You would always wake up first which would give you a few moments where you could stare at Sukuna’s sleeping face

➼ This was your favorite thing to do every morning, because you loved his calm expression more than anything.

➼ Sometimes he catches you and as he opens his eyes he would sarcastically go “Don’t stare. It’s weird” and laugh at your blushing face.

➼ When this happens you would just lightly hit his chest and jokingly tell him to fuck off.

➼ You would always give him a nice long kiss first thing every morning though.

➼ Despite you no longer being a Princess, he always makes sure to pamper you like one anyways.

➼ For example, whenever you have a craving for something that can’t be found in the wild he would make sure to get it at any costs.

➼ This includes traveling hours to the closest villages and sneaking in to take their stuff.

➼ You always get mad at him for doing this because it could put him in serious danger, but he laughs and tells you it’s fine and that in all his time living near humans he was only caught once and it was because of you.

➼ To this, you roll your eyes but you thank him anyways for caring so much about you that he’d work so hard to satisfy such a small craving.

➼ Whenever you’re busy doing something, he makes it a point to catch you off guard and hug you from behind with his four arms.

➼ You’re never actually caught off guard and can sense him from miles away (he has very loud footsteps), but you pretend anyway to get him to keep doing it.

➼ Most days you both spend your time walking around and exploring the nature around you both. However, on particularly lazy days, you two spend most of the day just cuddling together.

➼ One thing that stays the same is that every night both of you look at the stars like the first night you two spent together.

➼ Unlike that first night though, Sukuna would always make it a point to go down on you while outside.

➼ Also unlike that first night, there was no pressure to rush home so you two would fall asleep outside under the stars.

➼ One time though, you woke up screaming when you found a giant bug crawling on you. Sukuna took the bug away but would always make fun of you for it whenever you both decided to sleep outside.

➼ Sukuna would tell you he loved you in the most random of times: Walking around, eating dinner, anywhere really. He would just look you in the eyes and quietly say “I love you”.

➼ This is always paired with small kisses all over your face that make you giggle because of how ticklish they are.

➼ Sometimes when you two are cuddling in bed he would randomly lick your back with his stomach mouth to make you jump.

➼ “What the hell Ryomen!?”

➼ “Hehe, sorry”

➼ You both discovered your hidden talents while living together, and Sukuna realized his talent happened to be dress making. He realized this after he made a little makeshift dress out of your wedding attire when he carelessly ripped it away.

➼ He was able to make you some pretty good dresses with the most random of cloth that he found around the woods. They weren’t the most formal, but they were certainly the best dresses you’ve ever had, being handmade by someone you loved.

➼ You once again tell him he doesn’t have to do all this but he makes you stuff anyway.

➼ “Who said it was about you? This shit is fun as hell!” which made you laugh.

➼ He now has to pay extra mind to not completely rip your clothes off during bed because you two no longer had an infinite void of clothing choices.

➼ In fact, he actually swung a little too far in the opposite direction…

➼ “Wait. Take it off carefully, I worked hard on this one. I SAID BE CAREFUL IDIOT–”

➼ Despite this, accidents still happen and sometimes he would rip them off in the heat of the moment anyways.

➼ Living together, you had to learn to do a lot of things related to maintaining a home like cleaning since you weren’t used to doing this stuff yourself.

➼ Sukuna told you that it’s fine and that he’d do it but you insisted that you should learn how to do things on your own now that you’re independent.

➼ Being the good teacher that he is, Sukuna would go on to teach you basic chores.

➼ He would still tease you sometimes while teaching you though. Such as one time when you accidentally burned yourself by the fire trying to make dinner and he laughed when you kept flailing your hand everywhere.

➼ He didn’t bully you for too long though, he was still worried of course. So, he made sure to heal the burns and help kiss them better.

➼ You’re still able to make those flower crowns like before, so you guys would make flower crowns for each other all the time, and this time Sukuna didn’t hide how proud he was of them.

➼ Everytime he gave you yours he’d give you a small kiss on the forehead before placing the crown on your head.

➼ You would try to do the same and would go on your tippy toes trying to reach him, but he’s hella tall so it doesn’t work.

➼ “Jesus, you are 9 ft tall”

➼ “Is that what they tell people? That’s not true at all” He would smile, crossing his arms as you attempted to jump up to place the crown on him.

➼ “Well whatever you are I can’t fucking reach you”

➼ He eventually lifts you up by your hips and lets you place the crown on him and give him his little forehead kiss.

➼ Whenever you two are together, he always has his hands on you (he has four of course, and he needs to put them to good use). Whether it’s placing your hand on his, or having an arm around your waist, one hand always had to be on you.

➼ You both have every meal together, from breakfast to dinner. They’re mostly quiet and you both just take the time to bask in each other’s presence.

➼ From this, you learned just how much Sukuna LOVES to eat.

➼ You noticed this already before of course, since your relationship started with you bringing him food, but you really notice it once you begin eating together

➼ Sometimes when he’s eating his food too quickly you tell him to take it easy in order to not upset his stomach

➼ In response, he’d point to his smiling stomach mouth and go “Does he look upset to you?”

➼ You’d just laugh at this point lol and leave him be with one last comment about how he seriously shouldn’t eat so fast

➼ He listens for a bit and takes smaller bites, but he goes right back into it after a few minutes.

➼ You weren’t great at cooking at first, but Sukuna didn’t really care and ate your food anyways

➼ “Don’t worry I eat anything, this is trash though” he’d say with food in his mouth, only half joking.

➼ Once you got better at the skill, he always insisted for you to cook or for the two of you to cook together since it tasted better when you did it (when you knew what you were doing, of course).

➼ Speaking of together… At first, you two tried to take baths together at the nearby river.

➼ Emphasis on tried, because Sukuna always got too excited seeing your naked body and you two weren’t able to get clean at all.

➼ Due to this, you decided it was best to bathe separately, to Sukuna’s dismay.

➼ Occasionally you still allowed him to join you, of course.

➼ Sukuna made love with you every time like it would be the last time.

➼ In the back of his head, he always remembers the time you were taken away from him right after you both spent a night together.

➼ With this in mind, he always makes sure to make each session one you’d never forget, and he always delivered on this promise, of course.

➼ He would always take care of you after of course, and always made sure you were okay.

➼ You were fine, but you passed out 99% of the time so he would wipe you down and make sure to cuddle you.

➼ He’s always worried about you being in danger again, but whenever he sees you asleep next to him he can’t help but think of anything but what he ever did to deserve you

➼ Of course, from the moment you wake up to see his sleeping face, you can’t help but think the same thing about him.

➼ Your life is a lot different now. Not only do you no longer have the title of Princess, but you’ve traded in your castle for a tiny cottage, and a crown for dirt-covered feet. Yet, you wouldn’t change it for the world… because for every painful burn and disgusting bug on you, is his smile, and that smile is worth more than any title.

A/N: Enjoyed seeing Fairy Tale!Sukuna? Just a reminder that if you haven’t read it yet, please feel free to read the story that these headcanons are based on!

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on-wine-dark-seas · 5 days ago

Text

The Invitation

Dedicated to the little Black girl who wanted to be all things when the world told her she was nothing. You are everything. 🍯

🪧 Summary: Heian Era. One full moon, Sukuna meets a dancing storyteller at the Hida Harvest Festival. But after a tragically violent evening robs her of everything, she winds up in a strange alliance with the King of Curses as his guest. 📚 Series: Sonder ⛩️ AO3: The Invitation 🔞 Rating: Explicit ⚠️️ Warning[s]: Rape/Non-Con [not from Sukuna don't worry], blood, gore, description of wounds and dead bodies, cannibalism, recreational drug use [ganja, psilocybin, opium], slow-ish burn, hurt/comfort, PTSD, revenge, catharsis, eventual romance, eventual smut, Ryōmen Sukuna is his own warning. 💋 Pairing[s]: Sukuna x The Writer [⛩️🍯] 🎧 Playlist: [ the invitation ] ⛩️ AO3 𑁍 Parallax OCs 𑁍 Sonder OCs ⛩️

🖋️Author's Note: Well, we've arrived at the moment of truth[s]. Enjoy. This entire chapter is just 16.5k words of self-indulgent smut courtesy of Sukuna's absolutely batshit stamina, my untutored sexual ardor [giving way to a nigh insatiable sexual appetite], and a lot of fucking feelings we've been tap dancing around the whole story.

Y'all are about to learn some shit about me. Mainly, how I like to get down when my pleasure is wholly my own. See you on the other side. —Muse

⚠️️Warning[s] for this chapter⚠️️ EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT. References to sexual trauma [remember, this shapes how Sukuna and I get down], Sukuna's two glorious cocks finally make their debut, Sukuna uses multiple mouths, ALL FOUR HANDS ON DECK [and DICKS], masturbation, spit-as-lube, cum as lube, vaginal AND anal fingering, cunnilingus, squirting, analingus, blowjobs, cock and ball worship, double penetration, double creampie, rough sex, mirror sex [REAL THIS TIME], choking, possessive biting [it's Sukuna], talking-while-fucking, trauma-informed body exploration and worship, praise kink, the hot pleasures of jealousy real and imagined [again, it's Sukuna], rounds on rounds oh my god. Recreational cannabis use. LOTS OF AFTERCARE. COMFORT. FLUFF.

🍯 IX. 金契 Bonded by Gold

Everyone is mesmerized by the fireworks.

Sukuna does not care, save that they illuminate Asiri’s face in bursts of radiance, the dying sparks fading to nothingness in her dark eyes. She’s looking at him as if the world around them means nothing and he is everything. He is used to reverence, but that is reverence born from the seed of fear.

This is something else. Something so much more fragile, so much rarer. He won’t name it; he can’t name it, for fear that if he does, the world will take this from him too. So he basks in it, allows himself to enjoy this oasis of humanity before his curse finds its fangs at her throat and destroys her.

Sukuna takes a deep breath.

“Do you know what you’re asking?” He growls out. His lower eyes flick to her lips, full and stained the deep, bluish red of spilled blood in the cold.

“No,�� she breathes as the fireworks burst above them, the crowd’s awed murmuring rising to an excited cheer. “But I know I want this. I know I want you.”

Why, he wants to ask her. Why him? He is the last thing she should want. But here she is, telling him and fucking meaning it. His lower eyes drag their gaze down from her lips to her throat, sees the fluttering of her pulse beneath that tender skin. He wants to sink his teeth into her, taste the coppery sweetness of her misplaced devotion. He can break her; he knows he can, and part of him wants to for the sheer pleasure of it all. But he can do something else too: he can make her his. Inextricably. He can ruin her tonight, and every day after. Undo all the damage Takeshi has done and imprint himself upon her again and again until her thoughts are as consumed by him as his have been by her for months. Her and that alluring storm inside of her that he wants to hold in all four of his hands so very badly.

He reaches for her, and she does not pull away, does not recoil in disgust, and does not look upon him with abject fear. All the things he has come to expect are absent in her lambent gaze. When his knuckles brush the soft contour of her cheek, her eyelids flutter, the corners of her mouth lift, and he watches as she leans into his touch slightly, unthinking.

Sukuna inhales, watches her tense before he leans down, bringing his face close to hers. His lips trace her ear in a teasing caress with feathery weight.

“I am going to take you,” he says to her, and delights in her quiet intake of breath, and the resulting shiver that makes the earrings dangling from her lobes sway prettily. “Again, and again. And then I’m going to bind you to me. Is this acceptable?”

It is as close to a marriage proposal as Sukuna himself understands it, and as close as he dares. He half-expects her to decline, to have some good sense and run screaming in the other direction before willingly offering her throat to the tiger she mistakenly thinks is tame. But she is not a wilting flower with bruised petals any longer, nor is she prey.

She’s something more. Something divine. Something he wants with a yearning that kindles to the furnace in his soul.

“Yes,” comes her whisper, so delicate the roar of the crowd nearly steals the thrill from him, and Sukuna feels something thrumming in his blood that he can almost call delight. It’s heady and wicked, and he thinks of all the ways he is going to bind her, until he tames the storm inside her for himself. Until she is his and no other’s.

“Good,” he murmurs, malevolent pleasure making his voice a deep, ominous purr. “Very good.”

He lingers there for a moment, and then she turns her head. He sees the shadowy luster of her eyes beneath her lashes, and then he feels her lips brush against his cheek. Soft, tentative, exploratory and curious. He moves his head, feels her gasp as his lips meet hers. A soft kiss, he decides. Let her enjoy this last bit of sweetness before he shows her what she has so boldly asked him to give her.

“Come,” he murmurs against her mouth. “Let’s go home.”

She doesn’t correct him, she simply nods, wordless and heavy-lidded as he draws her away from the crowd, away from the bursts of fireworks, away from the world neither one of them have ever had a chance of belonging in. The crowd yields open to allow the King of Curses to pass. Rippling murmurs and whispers follow when it’s seen that his hand grasps hers. Sukuna does not care. He’s sure the Zenin brat has run home to report to his father that the King of Curses has taken a foreign sorceress as his wife. Never mind that it’s a lie, the bait will do as it is meant to do and lend legitimacy to her challenge for a duel.

And then, when the Zenin brat is dead, Sukuna will see just where his lost flower intends to go. He does not dwell on that eventuality too long, focusing instead on the searing present. Her hand is so small in his, delicate bones malleable in his grip, but he holds her with the gentleness of a breeze cupping a stray feather. He retrieves Akechi, mounting and pulling her up in a fluid moment that sees her settled once more in front of him, sharing the saddle. He secures an arm around her waist, but unlike before, his hand splays across her ribcage, the warmth of his palms seeping through the silk. He can feel her heart fluttering in her chest, beating against it like a trapped hummingbird. He can feel the expansion of her inhales and exhales, the change in her breath as they lurch forward, following the lantern-lined path toward the forest.

They pass beneath the first torii gate, the one that is more recent. Erected to mark the border of his territory. The hills may belong to the people, but the thick, velvety darkness of the forest belongs to the God of Hida, naught else.

Asiri shifts in the saddle, leather creaking in the quiet as they slip through the tree line, the festival forgotten, leaving only the two of them and the moonlight to guide them back to the shrine. Sukuna knows this path by rote, and easily guides Akechi over treacherous ground, picking the familiar path.

They pass the clearing, though it is completely different. The entire place is blackened as if burnt, trees splintered to kindling, and cratered depression in the center where the remnant of a burned-out wagon still stands.

“I did this,” Asiri whispers, her voice tinged with fearful awe. Sukuna resists the urge to draw her closer, as if to keep her safe from the memory of her own brutality, but he knows that’s the last thing she needs in this moment.

“Yes,” he says, his voice pitched low. “And I will teach you to do it until you can stay conscious. And even do it multiple times in a day if you wish.”

Asiri lets out a wry laugh, and he feels her heart flutter against his possessive palm.

“When would I ever be in a situation where I’d need to do that kind of damage multiple times a day?” She asks him. Sukuna doesn’t answer. He wants to tell her that if she intends to continue to practice jujutsu, there will be plenty of situations, but he knows she still believes that Takeshi Zenin is the only life she will take with her strength. She doesn’t know that she has initiated herself into a world that will demand she wash her hands in blood or be slain herself.

He will teach her this lesson, or her duel with Takeshi will.

Tonight, however, he has his mind on more pleasurable pursuits.

The rest of the ride slips by quickly, and still Asiri’s heart hammers against his hand. When they pass the ghostly glow of the hitodama of the massive torii marking the entrance to the shrine grounds, he feels her pulse race, hears her try to stifle a soft sound that sounds almost like anticipation. He shares a smirk with the preternatural dark, Akechi’s hooves marking the return of the shrine’s lord and master, clipping on the smooth stones of the courtyard.

The shrine doors open, and Oboro, Okoi, and Uraume come out to meet him. Ren is already waiting, and he tosses the boy the reins without thinking. Oboro, Okoi, and Uraume bows respectfully as he dismounts, and helps Asiri down to stand. He does not greet them except to give a curt order that he and Lady Asiri are not to be disturbed for the remainder of the evening.

Asiri catches a glimpse of Oboro’s surprised and questioning glance over her shoulder as Sukuna leads her inside. The shrine doors shut behind them, and they pass through the brazier-lit halls toward his bedchamber, stopping at the closed shoji door leading to his inner sanctum. Asiri stares at it, trying to calm her breathing and steady her mind and pulse.

“Before we cross this threshold, Asiri,” Sukuna’s voice cuts through her daze and she looks up at him. “I would have your consent that this is what you truly want. Nothing will change if you choose to refuse: you are the one who requested this, after all. And if it is what you truly want, I would have you tell me now.”

Asiri swallows hard.

“It is, my lord,” she whispers. One of Sukuna’s hands lifts, caresses her cheek.

“Then so be it. Understand this: out here, you are wholly your own, free to avail yourself to the shrine as you wish and explore as you wish. But when we cross this threshold, within the sanctity of my bedchamber, you belong to me alone. Is this acceptable?”

Asiri stares up at him, willing herself to bear the weight of his gaze, how his face looks so stern, so much like a god and yet she has seen the humanity that softens the harsh lines no matter how he hides it.

“Yes,” she says softly. “But only on the condition that you belong to me too, my lord.”

There it is: that slow, predatory grin, the hooded look in his eyes, hiding a secret she longs to be the keeper of since she’s trusting him with the handling of her broken body. His eyes gleam like droplets of blood in the firelight, cupping her face in his hand, running an unhurried thumb over her cheek.

“Thou, and no other,” he affirms. “Is this acceptable?”

“Yes,” she whispers. “Lord Sukuna?”

His name brings him up short and he looks at her with deadly expectancy.

“Is this something you truly want too?” She asks him. Sukuna smiles in that easy, arrogant way and slides open the door.

“Let me show you,” he says, and guides her inside, the door shutting behind them.

The bedchamber is lit by a single hanging lantern, which throws a beautiful lattice shadow over the center of the room and warmed by a large brazier. Outside, the trees rustle and whisper with the wind and thunder rumbles in the distance. Sukuna glances down at Asiri, brushes his fingertips along the back of her neck.

“Remember to breathe,” he tells her and there’s a teasing edge bleeding into his voice, a little derisive, but those crimson eyes bleed warmth as she looks up at him. Asiri nods and focuses her beathing. Thunder rumbles again. Sukuna frowns. Not her, then?

“I am breathing, Sukuna,” she tells him, and he smirks. So his lost flower has some control at last. Good.

He pulls her close, delighting her gasp as he lifts her feet from the floor, crushing her against him.

Their lips meet, and Asiri feels something steal the very breath from her lungs as his kiss turns hungry. It is nothing like the petal-soft gentleness he accorded her earlier in the evening, amidst fireworks and a crowd.

This is ravenous, and Asiri, heaven help her, she wants him to devour her. She wants to be the tender prey between his sharp teeth, wants him to bite into her and taste her until there’s no trace of her left.

She kisses him back. She has been kissed before, and has kissed, but never anything like this. Sukuna does not yield to her, holding her against him as she makes a moaning sound when his tongue traces her lower lip, tugging it gently between his teeth.

She’s panting, now. Dizzy with the heat swimming the rich currents of her blood, dripping down between her thighs. She squirms in his arms, rubbing her thighs together with an almost pained whine. Aching.

Sukuna chuckles darkly, and then sets her down.

Slowly, he guides her to the mirror, sees her gaze flinch away from her reflection. The last time she was here, only the light of the Divine Flame had illuminated them. Now, the soft light of the lantern shows them in full.

“Look,” Sukuna tells her, and she does. She is his, after all.

In the mirror, she stands clad in the soft white and blue of his kimono, her lips love-swollen from kissing, a few braids escaping her hairpin. Looming behind her is Sukuna, still clad in the deepest black. One of his hand spans over her belly, crawling upward as he begins to loosen and untie her obi with another. Deft and swift—these are his garments, after all—the obi slips free as his front hand grasps her kimono to pull it open. The lush weight of her breasts strains against the silk, then bounces free. Asiri watches his reflection, sees the flare of excitement in his eyes at the sight. Her nipples pebble as the cool air pricks against them. Sukuna watches their reflection, feels her ribcage expand as she inhales, feels her shiver as she exhales.

The kimono whispers over her skin as it slides from her shoulders, pooling around her bare feet. Sukuna sucks in a breath at the sight of her as she steps from the fabric and turns away from the mirror to face him. He looks down but keeps his eyes on her reflection. He can take her all in at once.

And take her in he does.

Asiri tilts her head, smiling slightly.

“I want to see you too,” she tells him. For a moment, Sukuna simply stares at her as if she’s the first naked woman he’s seen. She’s clad in naught but her dusky skin, that collar of shells and coins, waist beads, and her anklets. He finds it erotic, reaching to run a hand over her skin, finding it feverish and sensitive. He traces her collar bones, the curve of her shoulders, the band of scar tissue over her bicep that matches the band of black ink on his own.

He cups her breast, feels her heart leap, sees that old fear surface in her eyes. He stops.

“Šetû,” his voice isn’t sharp, but there’s an edge of command in it. “Stay with me.”

For a moment, she is trapped, but then she breathes again, and meets his gaze.

“There is no shame here,” he reminds her. “Only simple desire. Inhale, then let it go.”

She shuts her eyes briefly and nods, allowing him to continue as she regains ahold of herself. Sukuna strokes her skin tenderly like one would a nervous animal brought into the home. She shivers, calms, and meets his gaze. The fear is gone, quieted by the weight of the decision they’ve made together. Her skin is so soft. Sukuna passes his thumbs over her nipples.

She cries out in surprise, back arching into his touch automatically.

Sukuna smirks. His hands grasp her waist, giving it a generous squeeze before guiding her to the bed, down until she obediently lays back. Here, on his bed, Sukuna takes her in once more.

Asiri reaches up and grasps the hairpin, taking it out. Her braids tumble over the pillows and over her shoulders. Gold, bistre, burnished umber, contrasted against the white linen bedding. His lower eyes study every curve and slalom, every bend, fold, and stretch mark. He commits her to memory because they will never be lovelier than they are in this moment. He notes more tattoos. A symbol on her right arm: a hand with an open eye in its palm. Asiri shifts on the sheets, and he sees another tattoo. A peacock limned along the length of her right thigh, all the way up to the hip. So, not a criminal, then.

Sukuna begins to undo his own sash, and Asiri watches him, her breathing even, but her pulse is telling a wilder story. He never breaks her gaze as he slides his kimono off, revealing his bared torso first, followed by everything else. He knows she hasn’t seen all of him, and he expects her reaction to be as it has been with others before her.

Asiri’s eyes widen as she takes in Sukuna—all of him—for the first time since she caught a fleeting glimpse in the hot spring.

She starts with his face. His gaze, as always, is inscrutable. She lingers on his lips, watching them part in a breath. She notes the dusting of color in his cheeks, his even breaths. She studies the bold limning of ink on his form, following the lines until her gaze comes to the maw on his belly. She tilts her head, but then her gaze slips lower and—

“Oh!”

The cry shocks her, and makes his jaw tense. Asiri’s eyes are wider now as she sees both of Sukuna’s cocks, fully erect to the point of straining. She studies them with scarce-concealed awe. They too bear black markings, sharp and bold, following the curves. She sits up, crawling to the edge of the futon. Her gaze flicks up at him and there is a strained intensity in his eyes, his jaw tight.

“May I…?” She whispers. Sukuna gives her a nod. Asiri reached for him, but it’s not his cocks she grabs, which surprises him. Of the few that have shared his bed, that’s always what they want to touch first. Instead, Asiri stands on the futon, and reaches for his face.

She cups his face with her palms, stroking the bone-like plating. Sukuna’s brow pinches slightly and a look of concern crosses her features, a question forming. She begins to take her hands away, but he quickly grabs her wrists, making her gasp. A wordless look, and she continues her exploration.

“Sukuna, lay down for me,” she says. “I want to do this properly.”

Sukuna smirks at her, even with his face cupped between her hands and him grasping her wrists.

“Is that a command I hear?” He asks, menacing in his expression, but there’s a teasing edge to it all that makes her give him an arch look.

“You are very tall,” she huffs. “Lay down.”

Sukuna chuckles and Asiri yelps as he takes her into his arms and lays back on the futon, settling her on top of him. Her thighs spread over his torso automatically, and she’s dizzy from the sudden contact as she realizes how close they are.

How naked they both are.

Heat burns across her face before she swallows hard.

Sukuna props his top arms behind his head, his lower hands settling on her hips.

“Go on, mayoi-hana,” he purrs. Asiri purses her lips at his smirk but reaches for his face again and resumes her exploration of his body, tracing the markings on his face with her fingertips, before settling on his lips. Without breaking her gaze, Sukuna presses a kiss to the pads of her fingers as if in private worship. She bites her lip, tracing her fingertips along his throat, settling on the pulse. It’s as steady as a heartbeat. He’s not the least bit anxious. It makes her even more nervous. His lower hands are still on her hips, warm palms seeping that unusual heat into her.

She traces the markings over his shoulders, biting her lip on a little grin. Sukuna smirks. He knows the source of her private excitement. So he has been on her mind all this time, then. Good. This will make this moment all the more savory on his tongue. She rounds her touch over the strong muscles of his top shoulders, and biceps. Frowning, she makes a gesture.

“Hands?” She asks. Sukuna grins. One of his lower hands leave her hips and he presents it to her. She shoots him a look and he makes a shrugging motion. He has plenty of hands to spare.

She traces his palm, his fingers, the thick band of ink around his wrist. She’s about to continue when that hand suddenly seizes her wrist, making her gasp. He smirks again. She tugs once and Sukuna relents before her hands settle on his chest, gliding over every muscle and curve. When she goes lower, she shifts backward. The maw on his belly is closed and Sukuna looks at her with an almost innocent expression. Her brows knit.

“Open for me?”

Sukuna doesn’t know why but the way she says those words makes both his cocks twitch. The maw parts its lips and she traces it with her fingertips. It smiles at her, all fangs and tattooed tongue, which slithers out to lick her hand. She yelps and Sukuna lets out a pleased chuckle. In her annoyance, Asiri shifts again, and sits directly on top of it. Sukuna’s eyes flare brightly, his grin turning sinister.

“What do you hope to accomplish, little flower?” He asks, and watches as Asiri shivers when the tongue slithers out of his belly to trace a wet path along her inner thigh. His lower hands clamp down on her hips, holding her in place.

“Sukuna…” She whispers, and Sukuna holds her gaze, his expression suddenly deadly.

“Mine,” he murmurs, and the tongue slips above, the tip taking a slow, agonizing path through her folds.

A low, desperate moan slips from her and spirals into the air as she braces herself on his chest, digging her little nails into his skin. Sukuna does not move from that easy recline, watching as her body folds over, bringing her closer to him. His hands slide reverently over the curves of her rear, cupping and then grasping and then spreading her wide, exposing her to the tender onslaught of his massive tongue.

Asiri trembles, and a whimper ekes out of her as her hands scrabble for purchase, torn between wanting to escape the mounting pleasure of his tongue with each idle pass over her clit, and wanting to push back against it. She has never done anything like this before, has never had anything like this done to her, and she sits up slightly, shooting Sukuna a pitiful, plaintive look, lip quivering.

Sukuna meets her gaze with the impassive amusement of a god in his domain.

“Something the matter, mayoi-hana?” He coos to her. “Regretting your decision to give yourself to a monster?”

Asiri shakes her head, mouth dropping open in a soundless cry as Sukuna’s tongue circles her clit. Maddening, desperate, and utterly irresistible. She keens, rocking her body in his arms, giving herself unto the sensations unfurling in her body like a supplicant. Sukuna chuckles as she pushes against his grasping hands, seeking more.

“Oh fuck…” Her voice drags out of her roughly, trails toward the ceiling, her nails digging into his skin again. One of Sukuna’s upper hands comes from behind his head, pushing a stray braid from her face. He studies her, his tongue still slipping through her folds, circling her clit, holding her steady as she trembles.

He watches as her face melts into an expression of agonized ecstasy.

“Oh fuck,” she whines, as she listens to the tongue slipping back and forth, back and forth, so wet and slippery and sticky. “Right there, oh…kar a tsaya…pleasepleaseplease…” The words shiver out of her in a husky, throaty moan. Sukuna strokes her back tenderly, holding her gaze, lambent with tears of insurmountable pleasure.

“And there you are,” Sukuna groans, pressing the flat of his tongue against the whole, swollen, slippery mess of her cunt as she spills and spills against his tongue, shivering as he squeezes her rear. He strokes the tongue back and forth, adding pressure. She keens weakly, burying her face in the firm muscle of his chest.

“You’re fucking soaking, little flower,” he coos, relishing her taste on his tongue. He wants to drink her down, and he does. He chuckles when she rocks her hips, whimpering at the friction.

For a moment she simply lays still on his chest, listening.

Badump.

So steady, and strong, and loud. His breathing is like a cavernous wind to her, his chest expanding. He has expended no effort and already her skin shimmers with a thin sheen of sweat. The room looks hazy in her vision, and her lids are heavy, a small smile on her face.

Is this what it was supposed to be like?

“Hey,” Sukuna growls. “Don’t tell me you’re done already?” He laughs, and Asiri grins at the vibration of it under her.

“No,” comes her quiet, slurred response. “But this is nice, Sukuna. Thank you.”

“We aren’t done,” he growls. Asiri laughs, sitting up, biting her lip when Sukuna slides his tongue back into the maw of his belly, grinding against her swollen sex every step of the way. He grins when she swats his chest.

“I know,” she breathes. “Give me a moment…”

Sukuna heaves a sigh, rolling his eyes.

Asiri feels wonderful. There’s something about the world that feels new, and she feels charged with energy. Thunder rumbles outside, and lightning flashes through the shoji leading to the engawa. Sukuna takes her in as she looks down at him, smoothing his lower hands over her thighs, then back up. Her expression softens, dark eyes soft and blurred, those kiss-swollen lips parted, giving her a look of soft reverent wonder. His hands smooth up her waist, delicate and knowing. He has butchered humans aplenty and is intimately familiar with their form. But that had always been meat for consumption, for nourishment.

Šetû Asiri is for worship.

His hands continue their journey, cupping her breasts. She doesn’t freeze; the old fear does not rear its head in her beautiful eyes. She’s here with him. Her hands come up, settling on his forearms, smoothing up to touch his wrists. She lets him continue, biting her lip on a small sound as he drags his palms over her nipples.

“The first night I saw you,” Sukuna says, “I thought you were a dream spirit. A trick of the fire.”

Asiri laughs as one of his hands settles on her throat, large enough to circle it and hold her fast by that delicate column alone.

His other hand smoothes over her shoulder, behind her head to dig his fingers into her hair.

“It was your smile,” Sukuna says. “There was something sharp about it, like a blade unsheathed. And then it was your eyes. You know more than you let on, and all your secrets are kept there.”

His lower hands lift her hips, and she obliges. She feels the blunt tip of his cock nudging her lips apart. Her eyes widen briefly. So big, but she’s dripping all over him already. She understands now what his aim had been with his tongue.

“And now?” She whispers, her voice tremulous. Sukuna tenderly strokes her hip and begins to slowly ease her onto him.

“Now it’s the rest of you,” he murmurs.

Asiri’s head tips back as she feels him begin to stretch her. She remembers that night, feels herself clench. Sukuna freezes.

“Šetû.”

She comes back to herself as she feels his hands roving her tenderly, grounding her.

“Eyes on me,” he tells her, and she nods. “Breathe for me, mayoi-hana, just like I taught you.”

She breathes, and he relishes the feel of her ribcage expanding in his grip, and as she exhales, she relaxes, and he pushes her down.

The sound that comes from her likely wakes the entire shrine.

“There you go,” Sukuna coos and she’s sobbing, holding onto his forearms to anchor herself. “You’re doing so well. Let me in…”

He groans deeply when she is fully seated on him, and she lets out a high-pitched wail. She pants, leans her head back and lets out a sound.

“Sukuna…” She calls out, dragging his name through her throat like a desperate beseeching prayer to her gods, and without thinking—

Crack!

She yelps, and Sukuna hisses when the slick, wet velvet of her cunt grips him so thoroughly he thinks he may not get his cock back. His hand immediately palms her ass, warm from his strike.

Asiri rubs her backside.

“Mscheww!” She hisses through her teeth, annoyed, and swats his chest. “What was that, eh?!”

Sukuna laughs.

“I wasn’t sure if…” He laughs at her expression. “Ah, the way you moaned my name was like music…”

Asiri stares at him, eyes narrowed.

Sukuna tries to quiet his laughter. “It won’t happen again, mayoi-hana, I promise.”

Asiri swats his arm lightly.

“We can consider it retaliation for your little flower stunt,” he says. Asiri’s mouth opens and before she can retort he lifts her hips. She moans, making him grin harder, gripping his forearms so tight her knuckles drain of color.

Up. Down. Slow, so achingly slow.

His name spills from her mouth, dripping with a pleasure that frightens and exhilarates her all in the same scintillating turn. Up and then down until she realizes why this feels so familiar. She forces herself into a semblance of clarity, looking down at him. He grins at her, sees recognition flit across her features like a glint of light. His lower eyes slide down her body, watching as her waist begins to undulate of its own accord, and soon she is lifting herself up and down. He relaxes his hold on her, watches her find the rhythm and the pleasure it brings.

Asiri has never felt anything like it. Sukuna is big…so big she doesn’t understand how he’s able to fit even as slick as she is, but her body accommodates him as the pleasure begins to build.

Faster.

Sweat beads on her skin, and Sukuna’s eyes chase the path before one of his palms splits into a mouth, tattooed tongue chasing the droplets between her bouncing breasts before he captures one, sealing his mouth over her nipple to lash at it with his tongue.

“Gnh…!” The sound is choked out of her as the additional sensation pricks at her nerves like electricity along her skin. She moves faster; up and down, a bouncing rhythm she’s familiar with, but not with a man inside of her.

Not with the God of Hida inside of her.

His name becomes a mantra she flings heavenward, and Sukuna relishes the sight of his cock vanishing inside of her only to come out gleaming and slick, the black markings stark against the engorged flesh.

“Don’t give up on me, now, mayoi-hana!” He growls at her, moves to strike her again, but stops himself, and instead grips both curves of her ass, digging his fingers into the ample flesh hard enough that it will bruise. Spurs.

“Gambare,” he purrs. Asiri doesn’t stop, but now she screams his name, begging, pleading. A hand slips between them, a tongue lashing at her clit with every movement. It’s enough. Her cunt seizes around him in a series of quivering flutters, and there’s a wash of slick that soaks the dark, blush-colored hair around his cock. Sukuna holds her steady as she shivers, mewling, her vision unfocused.

Sukuna keeps her on his cock, burying himself deep as she spends her energy trying to cram her soul back into her body. He sits upright, and she moans as his hips shift, his cock dragging against her sensitive walls. Her legs tremble as she tries to wrap them around him. His hands roam her sweat slick body tenderly, as if he is indulging himself. He clucks his tongue as her head lolls, and she struggles to meet his gaze.

“Don’t tell me you’re finished already?” He coos in that nettling tease that always goads her pride, and he grins as her gaze sharpens and she glares at him. He pulls her closer.

“No,” she whispers, trembling hands coming up to cup his face. Sukuna allows her to touch him, and she’s careful of his lower eyes. Again, that soft look in her eyes, the tender parting of her lips. The reverent wonder as she threads her fingers through his hair as if he is something precious.

As if he matters to her.

It blooms in his blood like magma, the answering twinge in his chest when she drags her touch to his ears. She rubs the lobes, and he tries to keep his eyes from fluttering. Her hands travel down his throat, slick with sweat. She lingers there, feeling his pulse.

“Masoyí…” She whispers and Sukuna’s brow furrows in confusion. It is not a word he knows.

She draws his head down, pushing up slightly to kiss him. He obliges her, tasting the salt of sweat on her lips, tugging the tender flesh between his teeth. Alive, she is as tender and delicious as he imagined. Had he decided to eat her in the beginning, he has no doubt she would have been delicious.

But now, he does not want to devour her flesh and bone. He wants to possess them.

“I want more,” she says to him as he presses his forehead to hers, their noses rubbing against one another’s.

“Think you can take it, mayoi-hana?” He asks her. She smiles, giggling when he swipes his tongue over her lower lip.

“Gambare.” She says to him. Her accent is different, but he chuckles nonetheless hearing his own words thrown back at him in this instance. With a lissome speed he lifts her off of him, mindful of her gasp. She makes a small sound of protest at the loss, but he lays her on her back, spreading her legs wide, exposing her slick and swollen cunt to his full sight.

He licks his lips as she adjusts, sitting up on the pillows to watch him.

His lower hands grasp both his cocks, and he begins to stroke himself. Asiri’s hand reaches down, her eyes watching in carnal fascination as his hands pump both his cocks. She tentatively spreads her soaking folds with two fingers, revealing her clenching hole and noting with delight that he grips himself harder, pumps faster.

“Come back?” She asks. Sukuna freezes in place, all four eyes focusing on her, then flicking down to her cunt, spread open so prettily for him, dripping and melting all over the sheets, her inner thighs shining with it.

He wants nothing more than to folds her legs back and slide both his cocks into her, but his tongue craves another taste of her, and she watches as he shifts and adjusts, bringing his face level with her cunt. His mouth hovers above her as he watches her. His lower eyes keep watch on the sheen of slick all over her lips and fingers. His jaw works, and then he spits on her cunt. She gasps.

He leans in, meets her pussy in an open-mouthed kiss. She moves her hand, and his mouth keeps her spread for his pleasure. He looks up at her as he devours her cunt, and she’s unable to look away, her breath coming in fits and starts.

He pulls away with a wet pop, flicking the tip of his tongue over her swollen clit before he adjusts, pressing her thighs against his shoulders to push them back. He’s delighted at how easy she folds in half for him. A flexible dancer, he’d almost forgotten. He drinks in the sight of her cunt and the puckered bud of her asshole winking at him.

“Exquisite,” he breathes, watching her sex quiver before him, lowering his head.

Asiri lets out a shrill squeal when she feels the firm, slick muscle of his tongue swirling around that puckered rosebud. She shudders, the sensation new and confusing, but then…

“Oh…” She breathes. Sukuna’s tongue pushes past that tight ring of muscle, loosening and relaxing her. “Oh…” A longer moan, and Sukuna feels her entire body seemingly melt into the futon, her head falling back against the pillows as her eyes roll back and then shut.

“Fuck…” The word comes from her gut as Sukuna’s slides two fingers into her pussy, and one into her asshole, slow and deliberate, working her open in stages.

“Sukunaaaa…” She moans, feeling delirious from the sensation. It aches, but in the best way an ache can feel. She squirms in his grip, but he’s holding her still, her entire nether-region at the mercy of his mouth and hands. His fingers pump slowly, and she can hear the soft, sticky noise of her pussy growing wetter, can feel her entire body vibrating as the heat begins to coil and coil and coil, white-hot in her belly.

He pulls his mouth away from her cunt long enough to chuckle, his breath making her pussy lips quiver.

“Louder, mayoi-hana,” he breathes into her sex, his eyes watching her arch, spreading her thighs wider for him. Longing colors every shade of her undulations.

“I want Heaven itself to hear who you belong to,” he whispers, nipping playfully at the slick lips of her pussy before his mouth fastens on the bud of her clit, sucking rhythmically in tandem with his pumping fingers.

Asiri begins to yelp: short, staccato sounds that match his pace, and then she dissolves into begging, tossing her head, reaching down to grip his hair. He grunts from the sudden tug, then growls into her, relishing the bite of her demands that he bring her shuddering to climax.

But he doesn’t. He prolongs her torment, pushing her toward the edge, then drawing her back.

“Zagi, Sukuna, please…!” Her voice breaks on a frustrated sob, tugging at his hair but his head won’t budge. He rolls her clit between his lips playfully, slowing his fingers before spitting again, watching it drip down to her asshole.

He adds another finger.

Asiri’s back bows from the bed, and her legs come down, heels pressed into the hard muscles of Sukuna’s shoulders as he sucks her clit again and again. Fingers fucking into both of her holes until the coiled heat inside of her snaps outward.

She screams his name while chanting a refrain of yesyesyes just like that.

Sukuna relishes the splash of slick that coats his face as he sucks at her cunt greedily, then pulls away with a satisfied groan, licking his lips and wiping his mouth with a smug laugh.

Asiri lays on the bed, breathing deeply, her body boneless and pliant. Sukuna sees the pillows moist with tears…or drool, he can’t really tell. She turns her head to look up at him, her eyes heavy-lidded, her smile slipping across her face as if it will slide off if she isn’t careful.

“Still with me?” Sukuna asks with a toothy grin. Asiri sits up, arms trembling. His grin is at once cruel and tender and he leans in, slotting himself between her thighs. Asiri is still as he closes the distance between them. His face is one kiss from her own. She doesn’t break his gaze, seeing the flaring crimson closer than anyone ever has and lived to tell about it.

“Always,” she whispers, and regrets it. Sukuna blinks, almost as if the word confuses him. As if she confuses him. For a moment she thinks he may pull back, may put a stop to this exploration of their shared pleasure, but instead, he lowers his gaze.

“Then you’re going to take all of me tonight, mayoi-hana,” he says. “Turn over on your hands and knees.”

She blinks; eyes wide. Sukuna makes a face.

“It will be more comfortable in this position, I promise,” he assures her. “After you feel it, I promise I will do other things to you that will make you sick with desire at the most inopportune moments at the mere memory.”

“Zagi…” She ekes out. Sukuna grins, understanding the meaning.

“You have no idea, but you will.” He pats her thigh with his lower hand. “Up.”

Asiri gets up, frowns when he doesn’t back away, resulting in her pressed against him, and he grins at her playfully before easing back to help her maneuver onto her hands and knees.

“This feels…undignified,” she murmurs, yelping when she looks over her shoulder and Sukuna spreads her thighs wide with his knees. She eyes the black bands of ink around his thighs. Later. She’ll attend to other things later. She’s curious about what it feels like to be taken by him in full.

“Sex is not about dignity, it’s about desire,” Sukuna says, a set of hands engulfing her hips, smoothing over the tender curves of her rear, spreading her open. He spits into her asshole, and she hisses from the sensation. His thumb massages the saliva while he spits into his hand and strokes his slick, top cock.

“Do you desire this, Šetû?” He asks as he guides his cocks into her. She arches her back in response, exposing herself fully.

“Yes,” she shivers out as his cock presses against her asshole, the other nudging itself into her cunt. “I desire little else these days.”

Sukuna hooks a brow, watching with deep satisfaction as he begins to feed both his cocks into her holes, watching her stretch around him. He grits his teeth, growling as the fit becomes a snug one.

“Oh? Is that so? So you’ve wanted me to fuck you for a while, then.” Sukuna’s tone is casual even as Asiri makes an anguished noise that dissolves into a helpless moan of wordless pleasure.

Sukuna grins, then leans his head back and groans as his hips finally sink flush against her rear. He holds her hips but then slides his hands up to grip her waist.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he breathes out, pulling his hips back.

“Sukunaaaa…” Comes her keening moan. Sukuna laughs, stroking his thumbs along her skin in a soothing manner. He drives his hips forward.

Asiri screams, her head dropping between her shoulders, her hands reaching to grip the headboard, nails digging into the carved wood. Sukuna narrows his eyes. She’s so tight around him, clenching as if she doesn’t want to let him go. If he’s not careful he might indulge her and just stay buried in her until the world crumbles around their ears.

He takes a moment to stroke her with his hands, tracing the tattoo limned into her nape, the curves of her ass split so prettily around his cock. He growls.

And then he begins to take her.

But is it taking when she gives so willingly? He does not know. He only knows that he sets a punishing rhythm, and Asiri throws her braids over one shoulder, gripping the headboard and enduring him. Every strike of his hips against her ass, his balls slapping wetly against her swollen clit, punctuated by her throaty moans…all of it serves to nourish him in ways he never thought he’d want from another living soul.

Lust is a serpent whose bite had never taken a permanent hold in him. But this is beyond lust. Asiri is reclaiming her body’s pleasure one obscene cry of his name at a time. And he is her personal god, answering those plaintive, beseeching calls to him.

“Yes!” She cries. “Oh yesyesyesyes, just like thattttt…” One of her hands splay against the headboard, and Sukuna listens as her nails drag against the wood, leaving shallow claw marks. He takes a smug pride in knowing that her pleasure is so great that she must mark the site of its birth. He pulls her back and forth along his cocks, reducing her to high-pitched keening notes, and mindless begging in her mother tongue.

Sukuna groans at how tight she is. Gods, the grip she has on his cocks should be decidedly unfair. He wants to bury himself inside her depths every minute of the day. Every fucking night. He wants to wring her limp of her sweat, of her tears, of these beautiful songs no one will ever be able to make her sing save for the King of Curses himself.

One hand encircles her throat, a firm but comfortable grip and she gasps, but then moans.

His thumb slips into her mouth as he pulls her head back, the arch becoming absolute as he forces her to meet his gaze while he pounds into her. Again and again.

“Open your mouth,” he growls, eyes flaring. Asiri doesn’t think—there are no thoughts in that pretty head of hers in this moment, he’d wager—and he spits into it. She moans when it hits her tongue, and he leans down to devour her mouth with his own. She kisses him desperately, he kisses her ravenously. Between their hungry mouths, their saliva trails, a wet smacking and devouring to accompany the rhythmic slap of skin against skin as Asiri’s eyes glaze over with that softness that makes the center of Sukuna’s chest twinge, not in discomfort, but exhilaration.

Briefly—very briefly—he thinks about her smile, about how she must look just opening her eyes in the morning, still clinging to sleep. The smell of her hair when they rode to the festival. Her laughter when he tells a particularly grisly joke. Those dark eyes, glimmering with secrets as she dances. He wants all of her, all of the time, and he’s beginning to think he might be driven mad from it all.

He fucks her harder, holding her tight to him as she pants and squeals for him.

“Don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop…” She whimpers, begging him as he feels her pussy and ass clench around him. She’s so full—feels more full than she could ever imagine one person possibly being.

Tears slip from her eyes, and the King of Curses licks them away, growling at her to take it.

And she does. She takes it deep, she takes it hard, and most of all, she enjoys it.

So this is what it’s supposed to feel like… Her dazed, fuck-drunk mind thinks, the thought spinning like smoke on the breeze beyond the reach of clarity. Everything about that horrible night feels like another lifetime. Sukuna’s touch, possessive and tender and cruel and all-consuming, burns it away. The rot that has been a festering wound within her, burning under the onslaught of his hands. The self-loathing, torn out at the root with his teeth. All of it, undone, undone, undone.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” He growls and her eyes are wide. She can’t speak, only sob out a plea that he give her something—anything.

“Go ahead and come for me, mayoi-hana,” he growls into her skin, sucking marks into her neck, tugging her earlobe with his fangs. “Let me feel how much you want this.”

Her climax shatters like a star within her, and thunder rattles the temple walls, the wind howling in harmony with her screams.

Sukuna can’t take it. He shoves her down, hammers her with powerful thrusts, chasing a climax that he wants to bury so deep inside of her that any other after him will feel the splinters of his soul within her like barbs.

“Oh, Sukuna…” She gasps when all four of his arms come around her, crushing her body to him, burying both his cocks deep as they twitch, filling her; filling her until it leaks between her thighs, slick and sticky.

The storm unleashes its fury as he holds her tight, and they breathe with it—through it—sweat-slick skin slipping against one another. Asiri is limp and boneless in his arms, eyes heavy-lidded as he slowly begins to untangle their limbs. The process of slipping from her results in a mess, and him having to catch her before she tumbles. He lays her down gently, and she gladly hugs one of the massive pillows, catching her breath. Sukuna smirks down at her, already feeling refreshed, his cocks slick and dripping. Asiri peers up at him before she moves, quickly.

She leans in as Sukuna watches her with sharp, predatory eyes. Then, in a moment of carnal curiosity, she licks a drop of pearlescent and salty come from the tips of both his cocks, looking up at him. His jaw tenses and a low sound comes from him. She bites her lip and pulls away with an almost secret smile, as if she cannot believe her own boldness.

“How do you feel, mayoi-hana?” He asks, reaching to cup her chin, tilting her gaze back up to him. Asiri shamelessly leans into his touch, now, still smiling. It is the look of a woman who has realized that she is not a broken thing. Sukuna sees her come to the realization as her gaze meets his.

“Sated,” she murmurs, still biting her lip with a girlish smile. “For now.”

Sukuna grins slowly at that, stroking her jaw and carding his fingers through her braids to examine the flushing purple bruises forming on her neck from where his mouth claimed her tender flesh. Then, he moves off of the futon, retreating to the partitioned wash room. He doesn’t bother to dress, and Asiri takes that moment to truly observe him.

Sukuna is, for lack of adequate description, beautiful.

Her eyes trail over him from head to toe and she thinks to herself that he is perfectly made. Whatever features she once found grotesque are in fact the keys to his perfection. Every muscle and sinew, every movement…he is everything self-contained in one flesh; an entity wholly unto himself. She looks away briefly, wondering why her heart hurts and feels so full at the same time; why it races and skips and skids as if every movement and gesture he makes yanks it from her chest. The sight of him fills her with something she cannot name. It is not lust, nor is it anything that could be called true admiration. Joy? No, even that fails to do it justice.

She decides not to think of it, now.

Sukuna returns with a bowl, an ewer, and a wash rag. Asiri watches as he wipes her down, smiling as she sinks into the pillows.

“I want more,” she whispers. Sukuna gives her an incredulous look.

“You have probably scared every cursed spirit in the forest out into the hills with your delicious screaming; are you sure you can handle more of me?” He asks dryly.

For a moment, Asiri says nothing.

“Yes,” she breathes. Then Sukuna watches as she breathes, shutting her eyes. Her cursed energy flares, moving around her body, slipping between her thighs. His eyes narrow. There’s no way she’s…

Her hand follows, and his gaze sharpens: main eyes on her face, his lower eyes tracking the movement of her hand.

“Clever,” he snorts, lower eyes dropping to her cunt automatically as she adjusts, her thighs spreading wider. He can see the glistening trail of his seed all over her.

Asiri takes two fingers, spreads her lips open and Sukuna nearly cracks his teeth his jaw is so tight, but he doesn’t move.

She gathers the commingled juices, slipping her fingers around the lovely shape of her cunt, trapping her swollen clit between her knuckles. Back and forth, spreading his seed all over her, grinding her hips. She whines in pleasure and he watches.

It doesn’t take long, and Sukuna finds himself breathing with her as she strokes herself to climax, moaning for him and giving him a show; and he watches that lovely hole clench and flutter and spasm and spill her essence and his all over her stroking fingers.

Her eyes flutter open, and she lets out a pleased little sigh before bringing her fingers to her lips.

Sukuna’s hand snatches her wrist, startling her, and she stares at him with wide, eager eyes as he brings her slicked fingers to his lips, sucking them down to the knuckle, relishing the taste of both of them on his tongue. It’s almost enough to stir him again, but he wants a break. He’ll not rush any moment of this, and they have the entire night to themselves. No one will disturb them. Still, he will admit that was the sexiest thing he’d seen anyone do in front of him without prompting or commanding.

He retrieves the rag from her and pulls on his hakama. Walking to slide open the shoji leading to the engawa. Outside, a steady downpour is going, rain dripping in curtains from the upturned edges of the pagoda roofing. The engawa remains relatively dry, and the air is pleasantly mild and cool against his skin. He retrieves a long lacquered case, and takes a seat outside.

Not to be left behind, Asiri climbs out of the futon, and in lieu of anything else, grabs Sukuna’s black haori, throwing it over herself. She comes to join him out on the engawa and he looks up in the midst of…her brows furrow.

Sukuna is crushing pungent, green flower buds of ganja into the bowl of his kiseru. He glances up at her as he snaps his fingers over the crumbled flower, igniting it as he inhales. He breathes out a cloud of reaper gray, the air pungent with the burning flower. He gazes at her standing there, naked under his massive haori. With that same preternatural grace, he rearranges himself and she goes to him, settling in his sphere. He passes her the kiseru wordlessly and she takes a draw, holding in a cough before releasing it.

Almost immediately, she feels sluggish and languorous.

“Mmm…” Comes her pleased hum as she watches rain pour out in the garden, lightning occasionally illuminating the entire scene. She leans into Sukuna, and one of his arms comes around her as he smokes. Asiri feels something lower in her mind’s defenses along with her eyelids. There’s a light feeling in her limbs and chest and she bites her lip on a mindless giggle. Sukuna’s lower eyes flick down to her, and the corner of his lips lift.

“Sukuna,” Asiri breathes. Sukuna hums in acknowledgement. “When you found me that night…why did you save me?”

Sukuna frowns. She wants to do this now? He sighs, exhaling smoke. He supposes there’s nothing to lose at this point.

“I didn’t save you, Šetû,” he breathes in a reluctantly laconic tone. “You saved yourself, I merely watched. Had you died that night I simply would have eaten you.”

Asiri’s eyes widen. It’s callous, but it’s honest. It still stings. Sukuna has never been one to mince words not matter how much they hurt. She breathes deep, ignores the stinging prick of tears in her eyes before blinking them away.

“But I knew you wouldn’t die,” Sukuna continues and Asiri looks up at him. He’s watching the rain, the embers of his kiseru still burning as he passes it to her. “Uraume wanted to know why I refused to heal you, and the truth is Šetû is that I knew you were more than capable of doing it yourself. I knew it from the first moment I tasted your cursed energy the night we met. I knew you had it in you to dig out of the shallow grave that pitiful Zenin brat left you in.”

“You were testing me,” Asiri breathes. Sukuna dips his head in a nod.

“In a sense,” Sukuna says nonchalantly. “Once you healed yourself, I brought you here to get answers. I saw the residuals of cursed technique usage around the site of the attack, but I knew if you survived, you could give me a name.”

Asiri takes another drag.

“Why was it important to you to know who attacked me?”

Sukuna growls.

“I invited you and your family as my honored guests. I had planned to formally hire you to entertain me. Zenin attacking you was a direct insult to me, violating the tenets of my hospitality, such as it is.”

Asiri leans her head against his shoulder.

“When he was raping me,” she says. “He said I was your creature. Said you’d hired a foreign sorcerer to aid you. At the time I didn’t know what he meant. I had no idea who you were, not really.”

Sukuna snorts. “And do you know who I am, now, little flower?”

Asiri smiles. “You are mine,” she says with a mischievous twinkle in her dark eyes. Sukuna stares down at her with his lower eyes and says nothing.

“You promised,” she reminds him. He snorts.

“So I did,” he grumbles. “And what does it mean to belong to Šetû Asiri, I wonder. What glorious sights will I behold while beneath you?”

Her cheeks burn and she looks away when he grins to see his joke land exactly where he intended. He nudges her gently.

“You are no one’s creature,” he tells her. “Least of all mine. Too stubborn.”

She nudges him back, annoyed when he doesn’t budge.

“But I am yours,” she says. Sukuna turns the full of his gaze upon her.

“Thou, and no other,” he reminds her. She smiles at him, leaning her head against his shoulder again. The rain sounds like a waterfall, but it’s muted against the lush grass. For a moment they sit in silence, listening to it, breathing with it.

A question forms in Sukuna’s mind, one he finds himself reluctant to ask. There’s only two answers to his question, and only one he wants to hear.

He remains silent.

“Sukuna,” Asiri says quietly. “More.”

Sukuna’s brows go up. “Insatiable little minx,” he teases. “Tell me what you want.”

Asiri pulls away from him, watches as he taps out the ash of his kiseru and replaces it in the lacquered box. She sits on her heels.

“I want to taste you,” she murmurs and that draws the full of his gaze again, hard and sharp and unblinking.

“What?” He asks quietly. Asiri gulps, taking a deep inhale.

“Your cocks, I want to taste them…” Her cheeks burn. “Every part of you, really. You are so…”

Sukuna smirks and leans back on his lower hands, one of his upper hands beckoning her closer. For a moment, Asiri wants to resist him, but he looks too much like some god out of an old myth, reclining in leisure. She closes the distance slowly, once again wondering what she must do. She tries to remember any frame of reference before that horrible night. Sometimes her cousins would visit brothels on their travels, and she tries to remember the glimpses of that life she managed to catch. Women far bolder in sex than she, gossiping about sex.

Nothing in her memory is helpful.

“The night won’t last forever, mayoi-hana,” Sukuna growls impatiently.

Asiri shoots him a look.

“Mscheww. Jirgin da ya kawo Bilal shi ne jirgin da ya kawo Musa.” She snaps back impatiently and Sukuna’s eyes go wide. Then he tips his head back and laughs. While he laughs, she reaches for the waistband of his hakama, loosening it and freeing one of his cocks, already straining and hard. It bobs, veined and tattooed, and she marvels at how big it is. To think it was inside of her not too long ago. Sukuna watches her as she reaches and wraps her hand around the base of the shaft, but her fingers don’t meet on the other side.

She strokes him once, gaze sharpening when a strained sound comes from Sukuna’s chest.

Again, up and down, squeezing tighter, and Sukuna’s lids lower slightly, a lazy smirk curling his sensuous mouth. Asiri watches as a bead of pearlescent seed forms at the tip of his cock and then, as before, she leans in and licks the droplet.

Sukuna groans from the contact, still somewhat sensitive from earlier. Asiri smiles, gives a circling lick around the head, slow and indulgent. Sukuna lets out a soft, reverent swear at the sight of those dark eyes looking up at him, his cock in her grip, her tongue swirling and eager to taste him.

She lowers her head, coming down to the heavy sack of his balls. Sukuna’s eyes widen as she brushes her lips against the sensitive skin, tests the weight of them on her tongue, lifting his cock and stroking as she sucks one into her mouth, blinking up at him.

“Fuck…” Comes his guttural growl. “You are so gods-bedamned beautiful, Šetû. Perfect, just like that.”

She sucks on one, then the other, relishing and lavishing every part of him that brings her pleasure, tracing the seam between them with her tongue from front to back. He hisses when her tongue tickles close to the back, and the sight of her with them resting on her lips is enough that he wants to spend on her pretty face at least once.

Asiri explores some more when her lips close around the head of his cock. For a moment, that’s all she does, but her tongue rolls against the head and Sukuna’s hips shift slightly, the small muscles in his thighs twitching from the effort of trying not to lose control as Asiri explores this new avenue of pleasure. Slowly she lowers her head, and inch by inch he enters her mouth.

“Yes…” Sukuna breathes out in a harsh hiss. “Just like that…”

Asiri takes as much of the shaft into her mouth as she can, pausing to find out how to work her stroking hand in tandem with her mouth. She pulls up, hollowing her cheeks to hold the head longer while her tongue lashes back and forth across the tip. Sukuna grits his teeth on a groan.

“Faster…” He hisses reaching to grab her head and force her down. He hears her choke and cough slightly as the thick head of his cock bumps the back of her throat. Then he pulls her up and she looks up at him, eyelashes fluttering.

Down. Choke. Cough. Wince. Drool.

Up. His cock glistening with her drool. Eyelids fluttering. Groaning.

Down. Choke. Drool. Cough.

Up. Down. Up. Down. Faster.

In the privacy of his engawa, Sukuna watches as Asiri’s head bobs in a fluid rhythm in his lap, taking to the task of pleasing him with eager relish. She strokes and sucks him, relishing the taste of their commingled fluids. She looks up at him, eyes glimmering with something akin to admiration and pleasure at having pleased him.

“Fuck, that’s good…” He praises, only slightly winded. “You sure you haven’t done this before?”

Asiri pauses long enough to shoot a smirk with her eyes alone, tracing the veins of his cock with the tip of her tongue.

Down. This time, Sukuna forces her further, until he feels her neck relax in an effort to get the head of his cock past the tight entrance of her throat. Once there, he feeds the rest of his cock to her, watching tears run down her face as he sheathes himself in her throat, her nose pressed against the soft, downy blush-colored hair at the base. He holds her there until he feels the small muscles of her throat working in swallowing motions, relaxing her jaw until he hears the wet, sticky sound of her drool dripping down her chin and soaking the heavy sack of his balls.

“Oh fuck!” Sukuna groans. “Fuck yes. That’s it.” His head tips back and he moans louder, pulling her up as she makes a high-pitched gasp for air and then she’s down again.

Her head bobs faster, and he leashes her by her hair, guiding her until all he can hear is the lewd, wet sucking noises of her mouth and the deep, guttural sound of her choking as he fucks her beautiful face. And what a beautiful face it is. Sukuna thinks she has never looked better, her full lips stretched around his cock, tears in her eyes, drool dripping down her chin and neck as she struggles to take him deep every single time he pushes her head down.

Faster.

Deeper. One hand shifts to feel that bulge in her throat, stroking it tenderly. She gags, but then forces it down.

The rain pours. There’s a rapid series of wet squelching and sucking noise as Sukuna reduces Asiri to the pleasure of her lips, tongue, and throat, and Asiri relishes being used for his enjoyment. She relishes pleasing him.

Faster. Deeper. Choke.

Sukuna’s breaths come heavier, and he feels the telltale tingle at the base of his spine. He’s so close.

Tears runs down her face as Sukuna forces her down with a primal sound that is right at home in the wild places of the earth,; right at home in the storm raging just steps away from them. His cock fills her mouth, pulsing and twitching, and she holds her breath as copious amounts of his seed paints her throat. Hot enough that it nearly shocks her into coughing, and plentiful enough that what doesn’t make it down her throat fills her mouth and leaks from the corners, dribbling down her chin. A beautiful, messy creature.

Sukuna waits until the last spurts and twitches subside before he pulls her off of his cock, listening with residual pleasure as she gasps desperately for air, lips swollen and glistening with seed and saliva. She licks her lips, sitting back on her heels and swaying as she regains her composure.

Sukuna lays where he is, breathing deep.

“Fuck…” He murmurs quietly, catching his breath. “Ah, you are more than I could have dreamed, Šetû. Where did you learn such obscene skills?”

Asiri shrugs. “I didn’t. I simply…guessed what to do.”

Sukuna hooks an incredulous brow.

She reaches forward, runs a fingertip over his softening cock making him hiss. He glares at her but does nothing to stop her.

“It’s pretty straightforward in its workings,” she says matter-of-factly. Sukuna snorts. He won’t argue that. It’s rare he meets virginal women who know anything about the body. Though he remembers telling her this was a dance for which the steps would come easy to one such as her.

He smirks, and with that frightening speed, leans up, reaching to pull her into his lap, freeing his other cock. Divining his desire, Asiri lets him maneuver her, hooking her legs over the elbows of his lower arms, before dropping her unceremoniously on his cock.

She screams, but she’s already wet and tender for him as he stretches her pussy again. He wraps his arms around her completely, keeping her folded in half and crushed against him. He has complete control and he sees none of the fear in her.

She trusts him.

“Sukuna…” She whines. “Sukuna, I can’t…too big…”

Sukuna laughs and without preamble begins bouncing her helplessly on his cock. Asiri wraps her arms around his neck, fingers gripping his hair. Sukuna murmurs against her mouth.

“I saw potential in you,” he repeats his earlier words amidst her whimpering as he slows his pace to torment her with deep, languorous strokes. Up and down, a wet, sticky sound as her pussy is parted around his thick cock again and again. So big…so fucking big. She almost feels too full.

“But not just for sorcery,” he continues. “I wanted to taste you on my tongue, wanted to feel you split on my cock just…like…this…ngh!” He punctuates those last words with a hard, pounding thrust.

Asiri’s mind is wiped. There’s only the King of Curses there, occupying her every fleeting thought. She babbles mindlessly.

“Sukuna, don Allah zan yi komai kawai...don Allah…” She sobs. Sukuna doesn’t understand and he grins at her in the dim light, only the glow of his eyes visible.

“Are you begging?” He mocks. “You think you can just beg me in any tongue that flits into that pretty head of yours and I’ll just concede to your demands?”

She’s crying, but not out of shame or embarrassment or anger, but the pleasure. God, she feels like she’s coming apart.

And that’s exactly when Sukuna reaches between them, strumming her clit cruelly with his thumb. He wants her to come apart. Wants to run his hands through the shattered bits of starlight that is her soul, and fuse them to the gold of her own strength.

There’s a high, keening wail that competes with the thunder and lightning, and then a clamping of lust-slick, velveteen muscles. Sukuna lets out a surprised groan and chuckles.

“Oh, how magnificent: she’s crying and coming all over my cock again…and she thinks we’re done.”

The night stretches endlessly it seems. When she comes, it undoes the last of the chains she’s carried since autumn. The guilt, the grief, the fear…all of it melts away as Sukuna gathers her in his arms and carries her inside, sliding the shoji shut behind him. He heads to the partitioned bath chamber, pulling a lever to bring water into the massive, beaten copper tub from the rooftop cistern. He lights the incense and coals beneath the tub.

Asiri is vaguely aware of his actions, head lolling against his chest as he strips her of the haori and abandons his hakama. She feels him move, and then they sink into the bath. He arranges her between his legs, and the warm water immediately makes her melt.

Asiri doesn’t question it, she simply leans back against him. Sukuna shifts, spreading his upper arms along the edge of the tub to rest, his lower arms around Asiri, pulling her back against him.

“Won’t your belly mouth drown?” She asks lamely, her words only slightly slurred. Sukuna blinks, nonplussed. Ah, she’s still inebriated from the ganja. What a stupid question. He doesn’t dignify it with an answer, reaching for a wash rag and an earthenware jar of soaps and oil.

Asiri leans forward as she piles her braids atop her head. Sukuna looks down, sees the mark on her nape clearly in the lantern light. He reaches, traces it with his fingertips much like she’d done with his own tattoos. And like her, he doesn’t ask her what this mark means. He feels something powerful about it, something resembling protective warding. A barrier seal, perhaps?

“My mother called it psychic armor,” Asiri says in a lazy tone. She smiles, drawing her knees to her chest to rest her cheek on them. “She and someone designed the mark to protect me from harm by those who harbor ill thoughts about me.”

Sukuna says nothing, tracing the black limned marking with a reverence one paid to gods.

Gods…like him.

Goddesses…like her.

“And now you command the sky’s wrath,” Sukuna murmurs in an amused tone. Asiri laughs softly.

“Yes,” she agrees. “I command the sky’s wrath…as my grandfather did.”

“So you knew you were a sorcerer,” Sukuna says darkly. Asiri, sensing his displeasure, sits up and shakes her head.

“No,” she says in her defense. “My grandfather’s gift had always been a paternal one. It had only ever manifested in the men of his line. It had been my parents’ hope that the gift died with my grandfather. Islam has taken root in my homeland and they frown upon such magics in their faith. It had been Amadou’s hope that it passed to him.”

Sukuna begins to understand, now. It must have galled Amadou to see such a gift passed to one who was not supposed to have it…and Sukuna has learned that it’s precisely that kind of spiritual and secret greed that forces the universe to dispense a lesson in the form of beings like her. And beings like him. Sometimes those lessons were permanent in nature.

“That was another reason we had to leave,” she says softly. “Had it gotten out that I had his gift, it would have destroyed my family.”

Sukuna’s lip curls. “Sounds like your family was no better than the Zenins or any of the other sorcerer clans who care more about breeding sorcerers with certain techniques rather than training the sorcerers available to them to be good at jujutsu.”

Asiri snorts and laughs as well.

“Yes,” she says softly. “Still, Amadou never held it against me. And for a long while, whatever the shaman had sensed in me, was quiet. For a few years, I was just Šetû. Just a marokiya with…quirks, I suppose.”

Sukuna’s lower hands cup her breasts beneath the water and she takes comfort in his touch as it roves over her, rubbing her abused muscles into tenderness.

“Now you are more.” He says in that deadly quiet finality. But it doesn’t scare her anymore. It thrills her.

“Now I am more.” She agrees, and believes it.

After their bath, Sukuna helps her dry off, and leers at her shamelessly. She smiles shyly, squeezing out her braids before pushing them over one shoulder. She leans over to adjust her anklet. Sukuna watches her and thinks he can get used to seeing her in this bedchamber.

Not as his guest, or pupil, or ward. Not even as food.

Something more.

Asiri leans back up, her gaze snagging on his.

“What is it?” She asks, her tone one of hushed expectancy, her expression guileless. Sukuna wants to take all that softness in her and put it inside himself for safekeeping. The world will take it from her otherwise, but within his soul, he can keep her safe.

He doesn’t answer.

They return to the futon, and Asiri mounts the empty, rumpled sheets, and he watches her, briefly on her hands and knees as she attempts to smooth the rumpled bedding. He gets a glimpse of her swollen and abused cunt, and feels his cocks getting hard again. She sits back on her heels and looks at him.

“Sukuna?” She ventures. “You haven’t been a shit to me for a full five minutes, are you sure you’re alright?”

That brings him back and he frowns.

“Watch your tongue, brat.” He warns. She hooks a brow at him, tilting her head. She doesn’t respond but she does climb out of bed to stand before his full-length mirror. He joins her as she observes herself. She runs her hands over various planes of her body, squeezing and pinching. He turns her to face him and she looks up.

“Say something,” she says.

“I want your throat around my cock again,” he responds without missing a beat.

Her eyelids flutter and her mouth opens and then closes.

“That’s funny,” she breathes. “I wanted both your cocks inside me again.”

That bloodthirsty grin spreads across his face and Asiri wonders if this is the final sight of his enemies before he slaughters them. He places his hands on her shoulders, turns her to face the mirror. She meets his gaze in their shared reflection, watches as all four of his hands caress her reverently, learning every contour that shapes her. The darkling Galatea to this monstrous and possessive Pygmalion.

For the second time, they sink to the floor together, one of his arms wrapped around her waist as she folds her knees under her and he spreads her thighs. Without breaking her gaze in the mirror, one of his hands slides between her legs, fingers tracing her cunt.

She shivers, and he feels the first pearls of moisture form. Lightly, he moves his finger forward and back, lightly grazing her clit. She trembles.

Back and forth.

Her eyelids flutter.

Back and forth.

A small, restrained groan. More wetness.

Back and forth.

She falls forward onto her forearms, exposing herself further.

Sukuna hears the music he has come to love the most: the slick sound of her cunt waking up just for him. He dips a finger in, carefully. One would think after hours of this, the tissues would become numb to overuse, even injured, but he watched her use reverse cursed technique to heal herself earlier while bringing herself to climax. Who knew beneath that soul scar was such a devilish and insatiable little minx?

She shifts, spreading her thighs wider. Sukuna eyes watch her in the mirror, his lower eyes watching his fingers gather her juices with each thrust.

Another finger.

“Oh,” comes her soft moan. A few droplets spill.

Dripdrip. Against the wooden floor, glittering like obscene dew. Sukuna licks his lips. He wants to devour her, and he wants to fuck her.

“I love how wet you get for me,” Sukuna groans. “Hotter than a forge and wetter than tears. I’m going to enjoy this.”

Another hand presses against her back, deepening her arch, and she bows herself for him obediently—eagerly. Sukuna is quietly impressed with her flexibility, though he should not be surprised.

Asiri focuses her vision and looks up; comes face to face with a captive dream spirit in a position of vulnerable supplication, the God of Hida on his knees behind her, his cocks swollen and straining, pearly drops of seed beading at the tips. With his main eyes on hers in their reflection, his lower eyes flicker down as he spreads the curves of her ass apart and admires her, circling his thumb around the puckered bud and smirking when it clenches from the contact. She’s more pliant now that he’s prepared her and used her.

The maw on his belly parts in a hungry grin, the tattooed tongue rolling out of from between the fangs like a serpent. Saliva drips from it like acid, splattering onto the small of her back, and she shivers.

Then, it slides between the spread globes of her ass, teasing the puckered hole.

“Oh fuck…!” She whines, watching in the mirror as the tongue slides up and down, saliva dripping all over, making a messy of her. The tip of it pushes that puckered bud and he feels it give, stretching slightly, and Asiri’s eyes screw shut as she whines helplessly while the massive tongue pumps in and out of her in shallow thrusts. There is only her voice, and the wet, sticky sound of his tongue.

“Look how beautiful you are,” Sukuna praises with the mouth on his face, the other preoccupied with her asshole. “On your hands and knees for me, at my mercy, and whining like a whore for me to fuck you. Are you still mine, Šetû?”

He shapes her name like a leash and collar, and she lets him slip it around her throat. Lets him pull it tight, demanding her submission.

“Yes,” comes her strained, desperate whimper as he adds another finger to her cunt, fucking both of her holes with rhythmic pumps. She keeps whimpering. It’s unfair that he can do all of this to her, bring her to such unimaginable pleasure that it feels almost criminal to enjoy it. It feels like the sweetest taboo.

“Keep talking, little flower, I want to hear how much you belong to me.”

“Ciki…na…masoyí…” She begs, her dark eyes pleading with his in the mirror. Sukuna will never tire of that lambent, plaintive gaze she gives him, as if he holds the very air she needs to breathe and will do anything for one, desperate inhale.

“Come for me,” he murmurs. “Come for me and I’ll give you exactly what you crave, mayoi-hana. Drench me as only you can.”

And she does. That light circling of her clit, his pumping fingers, that fucking massive tongue, and the silken honey of his voice all serve to bring her shuddering to climax and she watches in the mirror as he withdraws his fingers, sucking her juices from them indulgently. The tongue lolls and the mouth on his belly grins in satisfaction.

Asiri’s body quivers both in anticipation and in the aftermath of her climax.

Only then does her fill her with his cocks, feeding one and the other into both her holes. This time, there’s more give, the slide slick between them, and he sinks into her much quicker and smoother, hands pulling her hips back until she lifts her head, eyes blurred and unfocused.

“Stay with me, Šetû,” he grits out, pulling his hips back and driving forward. Long, throaty moans tear from her, more hoarse than before—he’s had her screaming for most of the night—and he holds her head up with one hand, not allowing her to look away from their reflection.

Asiri is mesmerized by the sight. Sukuna’s face is flushed in the cheeks, sweat gleaming on his brown skin. The muscles of his abdomen work as he pumps himself in and then out of her, again and again, until the sound of skin meeting skin is all there is, as loud as her cries for more. Louder than the storm that is both her doing and not.

“Oh fuck!” She moans, words trailing as she endures him. “Don’tstopdon’tstopdon’tstop…” She begs and chants, bracing herself even as he holds her by the throat. Tears slip from her eyes again, and another arm bands around her waist, leashing her more securely so that he can pound her more thoroughly.

In and out. Again and again and again. She hopes he never stops. She hopes he wrings everything out of her, until all she knows is to belong to him.

Plapplapplapplaplapplaplap—

“You want this,” Sukuna tells her, but it’s a question also, the only sign that he wants her reassurance as much as her surrender. “You need this…”

“Yes,” she ekes out, the words dragging like a chain through her throat straight from the belly. “Yes…!”

And she means it. Something moves through both of them as he plows her, like a dark wind.

Another hand, stroking her clit while he stuffs her full, relishing those tight confines of her body, and the look of absolute bliss in her reflection. For his part, Sukuna looks like some feral beast, all teeth and maw and growling, but he pulls her up to him, holding her suspended against him so he can kiss her, and drink down her cries like rare wine. His lower eyes watch their reflection, wanting to commit this moment to memory.

His lips travel down, and he sinks his teeth into the tender meat of her shoulder, just enough to bruise. She cries out and shudders in his arms. He tightens his bite, breaking the skin, and the coppery sweetness of her floods his mouth as she mewls in pain. He licks the wound he’s made, the closest thing to an apology, but also a self-indulgent excuse to continue to taste her in every way he can.

“Mine,” he growls, unthinking. The one thing in the world Asiri is that she is to no one else. He won’t let her be anyone else’s after this.

“Yours,” she whimpers, her voice warbling with her tears; agreeing, pleading, begging for it to be true. Begging him to make it true; her eyes shining with tears and his heart stinging from that other look in her gaze that makes him feel more naked than he is right now. As if she’s looking at his soul and not him. As if the rot of his own curses within his viscera does not repulse her.

He presses his fingers against her clit, trapping it and stroking it relentlessly.

“Give me one more, mayoi-hana,” he pants. “Gambare, gambare.”

She gives him two. And then one more, breaking in his arms as she dissolves into helpless sobs, the pleasure insurmountable.

And then he fucks her harder. He wants to undo everything that bastard Zenin did to her, wants to strip it away so completely that she does not remember the pain of that violation, only the pleasure of his touch, only the pleasure of being his.

Just as he is hers. Gods she’s had him since their eyes met that night and he was inevitably drawn into the invitation of those beautiful forest pools in her beautiful face.

Love.

That realization is what sends him over the edge, and in their shared reflection, two people who do not find themselves worthy of love, find themselves tangled within it like moth wings in the gossamer of spider silk. Sukuna spends himself inside of her again, his thrusts ragged and staggered as he groans loudly, thoroughly sated as he claims her in full. Though not nearly as copious as the first time, it is still a generous amount and he watches with satisfaction as it drips out of her onto the wooden floor. He groans again, deep and from the belly, tipping his head back and panting, muscles twitching, body gleaming with sweat.

Their reflection is like erotic art. His limbs tangled with hers, her spread and impaled on him. Heaving together in their shared breath, mouths seeking one another’s like breathing.

Sukuna slides out of her with a low groan and her soft whimpering mewl.

He has strength aplenty, but he knows she is at her limit from the dazed look in her eyes. He carries her back to the futon, wiping her down with a clean rag before joining her. He douses the lantern with a swipe of her hand, plunging the room into the softer, dimmer light of the brazier, which burns low, mounted on a plinth.

Asiri stretches out along the bed on her stomach, eyes already heavy with fatigue, body limp and boneless and replete.

Sated.

“Sukuna,” she murmurs, her voice slurred. “Thank you for…”

Her eyes slip closed as she shivers and he turns to look at her. Has she fallen asleep so quickly?

“Sorry,” she mumbles, then giggles and shivers again before Sukuna pulls the covers over them both. “Aftershocks.”

He sucks his teeth but the annoyance has no bite to it. He watches her as she blinks slowly at him, her smile lazy and dreamy. For a moment, he almost says something to her that he has said to no one before, but instead he decides to watch her in silence. She reaches for him, clumsily finding his face before stroking it.

“You didn’t have to save me,” she tells him. “But you did. I don’t think all of your bad reputation is warranted.”

Sukuna grins. “Oh, it is,” he tells her. “But I have been known to follow my interests and whims.”

Asiri adjusts with a soft groan.

�� “And am I an interest or a whim?” She asks him. Sukuna reaches over, traces his fingertips down the length of her spine, over the curve of her hip. Asiri watches him with expectant, guileless eyes, her skin glowing in the aftermath of their rigorous fucking.

“You are…something else,” Sukuna admits. “What that is, I cannot readily say. If you want me to call you my lover, I cannot. That has never been something I could give to anyone.”

Asiri’s brows furrow. “I do not want you to call me that if that is not what I am. I merely ask…am I interest or whim?”

Sukuna brushes a braid from her face.

“Interest,” he replies and Asiri smirks as if he has just told her a delicious secret.

“Interest is good,” she murmurs. “Interest means you think of me often.”

Sukuna snorts. “Hardly.”

“Sukuna, you don’t fuck someone the way you just fucked me if you don’t think of them. You think of me. It’s alright.”

Sukuna’s nose wrinkles and he frowns. Asiri laughs, rolling onto her back. She laughs like she’s just heard the sweetest joke, or learned the most ridiculous information about someone she hates. She laughs and he sees that sharp smile of hers from the first night they met. Perhaps a night of vigorous fucking was part of what was needed to get that spark back.

“I think of you often, too,” she admits when her laughter quiets and she lays on her back, staring at the ceiling. She turns her head to look at him.

“I think of how you looked at the harvest festival, like you wanted to be anywhere else. I think about how you and Uraume came to our camp, and how I felt so honored that you’d even be interested or curious about us. I think of you and your fire, helping me reclaim the map of my body’s pleasure. And I’ll think of you long after all of this is done.”

Sukuna lays back with a sigh.

“And what will you do?” He asks. “When all this is done? Where will those dancing feet take you?”

Asiri rolls closer to him, and Sukuna marvels at how different she is compared to when they first met. Seeing her relaxed and comfortable in this state is…

“I don’t know,” she says softly. “I hadn’t thought that far…” She stifles a yawn behind her hand.

“That is a problem for future Asiri to handle,” she mumbles and carves out a space at his side. Sukuna surprises himself when his arms automatically come around her and he folds her into his embrace, hauling her on top of him so she can lay there. His lower hands slide down to cup her rear, his upper arms wrapped around her, hands smoothing up and down her back.

The rain pours outside, and Asiri’s eyes lower, sleep calling stronger with every breath, Sukuna’s breathing and heartbeat lulling her deeper.

“Goodnight, masoyí…”

That name again. He wants to ask her what it means.

Sukuna feels her breathing even out, and then hears a light snore indicating she’s asleep.

He watches the rain through the windows a while longer, and soon, shuts his eyes.

The rain stops at some point in the night, just before dawn. The brazier’s fire has died down to a few embers, leaving the room much cooler. There’s a lingering scent of sandalwood in the air…and sex.

Sukuna slips from bed just as dawn begins to bring color back into the world. He watches Asiri, who lays unmoving amidst the rumpled bedding, her face relaxed in sleep, her breathing deep and even. Reluctantly, he turns away from her and heads to the engawa. Outside, water drips from the pagoda roofing, and there’s a feeling of freshness in the air as he breathes deep. The hot spring is steaming, and he contemplates waking Asiri to join him for a soak. Instead, he opts to have a contemplative smoke from his kiseru and head back inside.

She’s still sleeping.

Sukuna tries to ignore her presence, but all he can think of is everything from the night. Her whimpering, her moaning, her eagerness to please and be pleased. Her taking joy in something that had been tainted for her for so long. He thinks of that name she called him before slipping into sleep. The same name she called him when she held his face in her hands and looked at him as if she were looking upon—

He cannot even lie to himself and say he’s imagining it, and it irritates him.

Never has he needed anyone to satisfy him. He has been a solitary creature since his mother abandoned him for death when he was barely old enough to understand what death actually is. He has lost track of the years, and the only thing he knows is the velvet crimson of the blood that stains his soul so dark he fears Asiri will fall prey to his curse.

He can protect her from anyone. From everyone. Just not himself. So he must make sure she is strong. Otherwise, it will be him stealing the light from her eyes, even when he doesn’t intend to.

He sits on a low stool, and he watches her. She’s unmoving in her sleep, lips parted as she breathes. She shifts rarely, content to stay curled amidst those sheets, as if the they are the tattered remains of a cocoon that birthed her exquisite form. She lets out a soft moan, brow pinched as she rolls onto her side, her back to him. His eyes follow her movements, lingering on the limned mark on her nape.

Psychic armor.

Sukuna has heard tell of a sorcerer, more myth than anything, called the Marquist. They specialize in tattoos for sorcerers. He has heard of sorcerers meeting with this mysterious figure, but no one speaks of it directly. He deduces that most of the truth is locked behind a series of complex and iron-clad binding vows. Still, he lingers on Asiri’s tattoo a moment longer, and wonders.

His lower eyes snap to the door as it slides open. Uraume is there, a tray laden with a teapot, a small jar of honey, and a cup. Sukuna knows the contents of the tea, and watches as they glide inside and set the tray on the low bedside table.

“Lord Sukuna,” they greet with a reverent bow. “Shall I prepa—”

Sukuna holds up a gentle forestalling hand, then puts a finger to his lips indicating silence. Uraume’s lilac gaze drifts like snowfall toward the sleeping Asiri, a small, nigh imperceptible smile curving their mouth. It is a fondness Asiri herself has earned from them, and not just because she has enamored their lord.

“Understood, my lord,” they say, and excuse themselves from the room. Sukuna doesn’t even hear them leave down the hall. He’s trained them well in stealth.

His gaze returns to Asiri, who sleeps continuously, and he wonders what her answer will be when her vengeance is done.

I’m going to take you, and then I’m going to bind you to me.

He hasn’t offered the Pact of the Wheel yet, and he’s reluctant to do so. Not because he does not want to be bound, but he cannot fathom what will become of her being bound to someone like him. Everything he touches corrupts eventually. He does not want her to be one of those.

Asiri’s eyes flutter open, drawn from sleep by the rapidly cooling sheets that mark Sukuna’s absence. Sunlight floods the room, and she stretches indulgently in the bed, groaning from the ache in all her parts. Her inner thighs are sore with each movement, quivering in protest when she tries to lift her legs. There’s a stinging soreness on her shoulder and she sits up abruptly when she feels the wound of Sukuna’s bite, scabbed over. There’s a few bloodstains in the sheets, dried to the color of rust. She bites her lip on a smile before she turns and lets out a scream when she sees Sukuna seated on a stool, still as statuary, and watching her intently.

She presses a hand to her chest in a gesture to calm her hammering heart and steady her breathing.

“How long have you been up?” She asks, her voice coming out split and reedy, hoarse. Her throat aches, and she looks at the teapot, the steam curling from the spout, the jar of honey. It’s been so long since she’s had honey. Without thinking, she pours herself a cup, adding the honey and stirring. Then, she drinks it down, soothing her throat. There’s a bitterness to the concoction but her thirst makes for a sharp contrast. She knows what kind of tea this is.

“Long enough to know that you snore,” Sukuna says dryly and she makes an affronted sound, but there’s mirth dancing in her eyes as she crawls from the bed, testing her strength as she stands. Then, she comes to him. Sukuna moves like poetry, his thighs spreading, all four arms moving to allow her to step close, before his lower arms close around her, squeezing her thighs and rubbing her tenderly. Her hands come up, cupping his face, stroking the bone plate with a tenderness that aches, her eyes studying his, seeking to know him even more than he’s allowed up until now.

He tilts his head and she presses her face closer to his, brushing his lips with hers. Sukuna, ever-ravenous, does not allow her to stop there, and his mouth claims hers as they kiss, and this time there is no starvation in it; no desperation. Only the tender aftermath of everything that wasn’t said the previous evening.

“Thank you for last night,” she whispers against his lips. “I hope I pleased you as much as you pleased me, my lord.”

Sukuna’s hands are all over her.

“More than, mayoi-hana,” he murmurs, nipping her lower lip and making her smile. “You’ve an appetite that could rival my own, I think.”

Asiri laughs. “High praise indeed, from the King of Curses himself,” she says and laughs when a mouth spawns on one of his hands to nip at the curve of her ass. She swats him gently on the shoulder.

“Come,” he says, and for a moment they both freeze, remembering the activities of the previous night. Asiri’s cheeks flush dark with heat and she looks away, suddenly shy at remembering all the things she willingly did and let be done to her body. Sukuna simply picks her up, carrying her outside.

To the hot spring.

They soak for some time, and Asiri admits that she needs this. Her body melts with relief and unlike before, when fear an uncertainty made her shy, she curls against Sukuna’s body, an arm around her waist, a hand on her thigh. She feels her eyes get heavy and she rests her head on his chest. It only takes a second, but Sukuna knows she’s fallen asleep again, her body weary from the hard usage he knows she’ll come to crave in time.

He lets her sleep while he leans his head back, staring at the rain-washed blue sky. Colors seem brighter, even the birdsong seems hopeful. He looks down at the sleeping girl curled into him and tries to imagine life before her. He can’t seem to recall, but he imagines it was rather dull.

He strokes her body, listens to her murmuring, and she yawns but does not try to move. Sukuna chuckles.

“Hopeless,” he mutters, but there’s no heat or bite in his words or tone. Only an amused affection he did not know himself capable of, only the fruits of interest rather than whim.

Do you dream of me, mayoi-hana?

Sukuna lets himself guiltily hope for once in his life. Hope that she does dream of him, and that all of those dreams are pleasant. Hopes that those dreams lead her to the answer she seeks, the one he needs to hear.

Stay.

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tetzoro · 1 year ago

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BEAUTIFUL, BEAUTIFUL TETSURO — ༉‧₊˚.

ft. kuroo tetsuro !

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : sometimes you have to just stand back and admire how beautiful your lover truly is.

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : sappy, sappy fluff. kuroo appreciation fic — WC : 1.1k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : a little love letter to beloved tetsuro. please enjoy ᰔ dividers by @/cafekitsune.

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᰔ*.ﾟ

there’s something to be said about how falling in love with someone enhances their natural beauty. the change isn’t noticeable right away, no, it happens slowly over time as you peel back their layers and discover who they truly are. the attraction grows stronger as your bond builds, leaving you awestruck when you finally realize.

objectively, kuroo had always been attractive. dazzling smirks and mischievous eyes that instantly had you head over heels, yearning to uncover every mystery that laid beneath his surface.

but as you grew closer and learned the many things that made up kuroo, you fell deeper into him in such an intimate way that you could never truly untangle your soul from his — not that you’d ever want to. everything he was made of was stardust — magic that shone through him and radiated the kind of beauty you would only hear about from myths, the kind that your mind couldn’t even fathom if you tried.

and yet here it was right before your eyes, paired with an amused smile that never failed to make you fall just a little more.

“what?” he asks, looking down at you, curiosity swimming in his amber eyes.

you can only look up at him in awe as you both stepped outside, the midnight blue sky melting into the dead of night, only pockets of starlight twinkling through the dark curtain shone past it, illuminating the man before you.

the moonlight kisses him, gently caressing his features before weaving itself through the shadows of his dark, unruly hair, revealing just how alluring he really is.

the kind of beauty that deserved the world’s undivided attention. to stop and stare in awe as the man before you goes about his life. how could someone make the mundane so effortlessly charming?

“nothing.” you smile, your hand finding his, folding your fingers into each other perfectly before giving them a gentle squeeze. “you’re beautiful, that’s all.”

kuroo tosses his head back and laughs wholeheartedly — the sound filling you with wonderment as his cackle echoes throughout the air, sweet satisfaction turning everything in you into mush as you watch his cheeks blossom into multitudes of pink and pretty reds.

your fingers splay on his chest, finding the familiar thump of his heart before curling your fist into itself, almost longing to touch deep within him the way he seems to have done to you.

his free hand comes up to catch yours, holding it near and dear to him as his attention shifts back down — gazing at you with so much love, completely over the moon from the compliment that spilled from your lips.

“i think you carry all the beauty in this relationship, sweetheart.” his voice is pure honey, sickly sweet that makes it all too easy for you to drown in.

“i love you, you know that?” you beam up at him. loving kuroo was as easy as breathing, one of the most simple things in the world yet held the very essence of life.

something intangible that seeps down into the marrow of your bones, nestling there as a comfortable weight and without it, you might as well float away.

“maybe.” he quips, shit-eating grin taking up his gorgeous face. “but i always love hearing you remind me.”

sharing the same breath, he closes the gap with a murmur of i love yous, soft lips gently caressing yours as if he had all the time in the world to explore the depths of your soul.

and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he does. the two of you getting lost in each other like you’ve done a million times before. strong arms encasing you in a warm embrace, sealing you off with a kiss as his lips write the most beautiful love letter you’ve ever received.

and what is a kiss if not a love letter?

the moment kuroo’s lips touched yours is when the words begin to bloom. a thoughtful greeting, followed by all the words he longs to say, words he’s said time and time again for you to hear.

carefully crafted just for you, a series of unspoken sentences filter through you. thoughts, feelings, every emotion poured into you with each glide of his lips against yours.

the ghost of the words from the tip of his tongue laid onto yours, signing off with the swirl of his signature.

and in the end, the envelope sealed shut with his saliva, a token of him for you to carry. pulling back with hopeful eyes as he’s already eager for your reply, the taste of his name lingering on your tongue.

a reply you’re all too equipped to return as you reconnect your lips with his.

you sigh in a sweet serenity as his tongue prods your mouth open, a noise he easily devours. kuroo chases for more, desperate to eat up all the saccharine sounds that slip out of your grasp.

after a moment or a millennium, he pulls away, strings of fate forever connecting you, twirled in the safety of your shared saliva. even as the liquid falls, coating you in his favorite gloss — the bond remains. kuroo’s fingers reach up, swiping along your swollen lips to catch your shared love on his thumb.

your heart quickens, threatening to flutter out of your chest as you watch him bring it to his own mouth, reclaiming it as his own little souvenir of the tender moment you shared — cherishing it like he does with every piece of you.

“ready to go? don’t wanna miss out on our dinner reservations because we decided to skip straight to our dessert now do we?” the playful lilt in his voice tells you all you need to know — he wouldn’t mind doing that one bit. but unfortunately, someone had to be the responsible one tonight.

you can’t help but giggle — magical and airy that rings in his ears, a declaration of love that has him swooning for you all over again. there’s a brief pause, both of his hands finding yours once again, intertwining them before he gifts them each a delicate kiss, a promise of more to come when the timing is right.

“i suppose.” the words drag out of your mouth, paired with the quick roll of your eyes. kuroo knew it was all in good fun though, a smirk slinking along his face in amusement from your dramatics. “but only if you make it up to me later.”

“oh love, i’d never dream of leaving you unsatisfied.”

thank you for reading ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ᰔ

#◟˚. ☁️ ⋆ daydreams.#kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro fluff #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu fluff #hq x you #hq x reader #kuroo tetsuro #hq fluff

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lurkingshan · 1 year ago

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Hi Shan!

Help! I am looking for another Japanese drama to watch. However, my queue is only filled with BLs right now and I wanted to venture outside of the genre a bit. So my question is - do you have any favourite non-BL doramas to recommend? (Preferably not romance-oriented, but any genre will do)

Ooh, fun one. I do have a few I've seen that might be interesting to you, though honestly I do find that Japanese queer media is more to my taste than their more mainstream het stuff. Here are a few to try:

Koisenu Futari

Honestly on my hands and knees begging everyone to watch this fantastic drama about two people on the aroace spectrum who form a platonic bond and create their own kind of family.

Silent

This one has romance, but the narrative is not about romance. It's really about the process of coping with becoming disabled, the harm caused by abandoning your loved ones in a fit of noble idiocy, and the slow repairing of relationships. So good.

One Room Angel

An utterly beautiful show. Though it aired as part of Drama Shower, it's not actually a bl. This story is about healing from trauma and finding a reason to live. It’s also one of the most visually stunning shows of the last year.

She Loves to Cook and She Loves to Eat

Only just barely a romance, this is the female WDYEY and it's so precious. Two women develop a close bond and learn about themselves as they form a relationship around one cooking meals for the other.

Monster

This is a movie but I simply had to include it. I am not telling you anything about the plot, but it's excellent and a must watch for Japanese cinema fans, IMO.

Chugakusei Nikki

It wouldn't be a proper jdrama list without some taboo content! This is a serious, deep, thoughtful exploration of what happens when feelings develop between a teacher and student, and the fallout that comes with it. Probably the best treatment of this trope I have ever seen.

Rinko-san Wants to Try

This one is a romance with some classic tropes, but one I think does some really interesting things with gender dynamics and sex positivity. It's a fun watch!

If you end up liking any of these, let me know! A few of them might be tricky to track down, as well, so hmu if you’re having trouble finding anything and I’ll point you. I have a few more on my upcoming watchlist that may end up being future recs, as well.

#koisenu futari #silent 2022 #one room angel #she loves to cook and she loves to eat #monster 2023 #chugakusei nikki #rinko-san wants to try #shan recommends #shan answers #jdrama

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musicalmoritz · 6 months ago

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Good Femslash Fics Already Exist

With the whole push for more femslash in fandoms, I’ve never understood the amount of hate I see femslash “fans” direct towards existing creations. There’s nothing wrong with wanting more variety, I do too, but every time someone brings up the fact that femslash fan fictions are already being written someone opens their mouth to say “yeah but those suck.” And then they proceed to read 300+ atrociously mischaracterized mlm fics. They complain abt plotless fluff and then read the exact same pwp scenarios over and over again

And hey, if you don’t want to read femslash that’s totally fine. You don’t have to pretend it interests you. I’m someone who actively looks for femslash and my only problem has been a lack of content in smaller/male-dominated fandoms, the fics themselves are cute af. Ya’ll are missing out on some real masterpieces by labeling all existing femslash fics as “boring,” some of my favorite fics ever are femslash. If an mlm ship invades the tags just filter it out, filter out every mlm pairing in the fandom if you have to. AO3 gives us that option for a reason

I’m not saying we don’t need more variety, but we’re not going to get that by shitting on writers who actively put in the work to make more femslash. When I started writing femslash consistently it was very discouraging because I’d seen soooooo many people online saying they want more femslash fics, yet nobody was reading mine. Then I looked at the stats on other femslash fics and they were the same, really great fics were barely getting any hits or kudos. It kinda sucks knowing that an mlm fic I wrote in 3 hours got more kudos than a wlw fic I spent months on (for pairings of relatively equal popularity). This seems to be the biggest roadblock for people wanting to write femslash, no one supports it. Even tho fandoms claim they would support it, they never do. It’s something I’ve learned to stop caring about but not every writer is gonna push through

This brings me back to a comment I saw about “boring, hair-braidy wlw fics.” That description really stood out to me, and to this day it makes me feel a little self-conscious about my old femslash fics that were “boring” and “hair-braidy.” But then I came across a fic for this one pairing that had actual hair-braiding. It was incredibly well-written and meaningful, exploring how both characters struggled to ask for help but they were able to recognize each other’s dilemmas and help in subtle ways. They did this, of course, by fixing each other’s hair when they both felt helpless to do anything with it. Such a simple way to express a very deep bond. This made me reassess the way people talk about femslash fics, and the way I’d been thinking of them myself. Is fluff really that much of a crime?? Do all cottagecore-type fics really have no substance?? Do femslash fics have to copy exactly what slash fics are doing, or are they allowed to have their own tropes??

My attitude towards the overload of plotless fluff wlw fics is “this is a good starting point.” We need more people writing femslash, more variety in what is written, but that doesn’t mean what we have is bad. I critique wlw fic tropes a lot but I always give the disclaimer that I actually love the fics themselves, I just want to see more of a different thing. And I comment on every femslash fic I read (every fic I read in general but especially femslash), I try to leave something thoughtful to let the writer know I appreciate the effort they put into their work. You’d be surprised how many writers said they were encouraged to update a fic or write more femslash because of a positive comment I left them. Engaging with fics will give you more of a good thing. It has so much more influence than that video you’re about to make talking about how there’s no good femslash fics. When you say things like that it actually discourages people from writing, and makes them feel bad about things they’ve already written. Support femslash writers guys, it’s sexy

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moonlightazriel · 3 months ago

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The Solstice Surprise /// A Gwynriel fic

Summary: When secrets start to appear in their relationship, Gwyn wonders what is going wrong with them, but not everything is what it seems.

Warnings: Miscomuniaction, mentions of cheating and angst.

Word Count: 2,8K

Note: Participating in the @acotargiftexchange is always a joy, but even more when I get to explore one of my favorite couples in the series and fall in love with them all over again. It's also a great surprise every year to meet such wonderful souls, and that's what you are @letstrytoohard, a wonderful person and I love every interaction we had while you helped me create this piece for this lovely couple we all love so much! Have a great holiday, I wish you all that is good in this world and I hope you like this just as much as I do, it was made with love! Merry Christmas girl, and to you all! 🎄🎁

Main Masterlist

Gwyneth took a deep breath, puffing the air through her nose, a stray strand of red hair flying away from her face with the sudden movement, her palms squishing her freckled cheeks together as her blue eyes scanned the stunned faces of her two best friends.

“I don’t think Azriel would ever think about cheating on you,” Nesta said, trying to be as sensitive as she could towards the priestess' feelings, she knew Gwyn had the tendency of overthinking everything and she didn’t want to add fuel to the fire.

“But..” She tried but Emerie stopped her before the full sentence could spill from her lips.

“Nesta’s right, you know? Azriel waited his whole life for you, his mate. He’s crazy over you, he would never do anything to hurt you.” Gwyn hated the fact that the both of them were right, Azriel would never hurt her in any way, but her heart still clenched and bled a bit at the thought that he might be hiding something from her.

“I know he has his secrets, but these past few weeks he’s been distant, he goes out early in the morning and doesn't return until late in the night, what if?” Nesta waved her hand in the redheaded’s face.

“Nonsense, child.” She said in a serious voice, but a smile cracked her facade as soon as she said it, the three females laughing together at her antics, Gwyn feeling the weight on her shoulders a little bit easier to carry with the help of her friends.

“I think we need to forget about this and head to the city and get some hot chocolate.” Emerie suggested to which Gwyneth enthusiastically nodded, picking up her fluffy coat and heading towards the snowy street outside, unbeknownst to her, the two other females shared a knowing look. Gwyn would have a real surprise by the end of the week.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Giggles caught her attention, after she accepted the mating bond, she became bolder and bolder, wandering around places she only dreamed to go before. So she followed the sound, sneaking around a wall, her head poking just enough to catch a glimpse of Elain’s brown hair, the female shared a few unheard words with someone before giggling again.

She moved her body just enough to see who it was, surprised to see Azriel there, his body turned with his back to her, facing Elain. She knew they had some past history, it never bothered her before, but with how secretive and sneaky he has been, what if he had regretted his decision of pursuing her and missed what he had with Elain? What if he wanted to split things between them and be with the middle Archeron?

Doubt creeped out and spread like poison, making her organs twist and spin inside her, the content of her stomach threatening to spill as she silently watched the whole interaction unfold before her eyes. How Azriel slowly looked around to make sure no one was watching, his hands holding a box to Elain, the female gasping and whispering.

“It's perfect, I love it.” Gwyn watched as she grasped the box, inspecting the content inside, turning to the side to see it in a better light, a ring shining bright inside. What? Anger started to burn, an array of feelings that she hadn't felt in a long time making a thunderstorm brew inside of her heart. She started to struggle with her breath, the air didn't seem to be enough to fill her lungs and her heart hammered against her ribcage making it even harder to breath and keep focused.

Azriel’s shadows scattered around, recoiling behind his shoulders during the whole time he talked with Elain, now rushing towards the exit, quickly reaching the panicking female on the other side. Azriel caught a flicker of red and distress filled his chest, as Gwyn couldn't keep hold of her emotions anymore. His shadows rushed around her, desperate to find out what was wrong, but they found nothing.

Azriel moved, his footsteps getting closer to where Gwyn stood, but she was faster, spinning onher own axis. She fled, running inside so fast, down the corridor and towards the hidden entry to the library, wanting to be in the comforting presence of her sisters to feel better. In her frenzy to be away from them, she bumped into someone, lifting her troubled gaze upwards, meeting the eyes of Merrill.

The older priestess raised an eyebrow, noticing the distress in the youngest. With a soft voice that Gwyn never knew she possessed, Merrill commanded Gwyneth inside her study room.

“What happened?” she asked, gesturing to the chair in the corner, next to the table where steaming tea waited for them. The female stirred a mug with a few drops of sugar and handed it to her, the exact way she preferred to drink her tea, Merrill had always paid much attention to details like this.

“I think Azriel is having an affair.” Her eyes, the same colour of a twilight sky, inspected Gwyn and then she snorted, making Gwyn flinch and cringe further in her seat, maybe having this type of conversation with Merril, out of all people, wasn’t exactly a good idea.

“The devoted Shadowsinger? Who would erase both mortals and immortals from the face of the earth if they dared to lay a hand on you?” Everyone kept saying that, and Gwyn really wanted to believe their words, but she had seen it with her own eyes, and it was her heart that had been beating in pieces ever since.

“I know it sounds stupid,” she admitted.

“Good!” Merril intervened. “You must clear your head from such thoughts, Gwyneth.” It was like being scolded by her mother used to feel like, when she and Catrin did something that she disapproved of. “I’m sure that everything will be explained soon, you need to work on your patience.” Gwyn raised an eyebrow, Merrill never defended people like that, she wanted to push further to get some answers but she didn’t want to risk bursting the weird bubble she found herself in.

She took a deep breath and a sip of her tea, letting the hot liquid calm her insides, her thoughts a bit quieter and easier to bear. Maybe they were all right, and Azriel had a good reason for his behaviour, she would give him the benefit of the doubt. In the months they were together he had never given her any reasons to think otherwise and she wouldn’t allow herself to ruin this, so she finished her tea and held her head high, thanking Merrill and leaving her office, towards the pile of work that waited for her.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Gwyn excitedly kicked the covers away from her body, Azriel kept being secretive for the rest of the week, but she pushed any bad thoughts aside, telling herself that he was busy with Solstice preparations, if she only knew. Running downstairs, she found him there, his toned back turned to her as he flipped the heart shaped pancakes in a pan.

It was her first Solstice with his family and outside the Library, and she was so excited to experience it for the first time. Azriel turned to her, catching how her eyes admired the breakfast table he had prepared for her – Azriel had woken up early just to set it for her, snowflakes silly cut out of paper scattered around the table, little candles here and there.

“Happy Solstice, sunshine,” he said, his voice soft, always softer with her than with anyone else, placing a plate in front of her.

“Happy Solstice, Azzy,” she replied, waiting for him to sit down so they both could start eating. “What are the plans for the day?”

“I'm helping Elain set some things for the celebration and then I'm all yours.” He winked her way but the mention of Elain’s name made her deflate in her seat. “You're going to the library, right?”

“Yes, I'll pray during the morning.” She poked one of the heart shaped pancakes.

“Are you alright?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, peachy.” She replied and he nodded.

“Are you sure?” She raised her eyes towards him, a mischievous gleam in him, like he was having so much fun with this conversation.

“Just fine, Azriel.” Gwyn rose from her chair, leaving the kitchen so she could get ready, despite her conversation with Merril the other day, she wouldn't risk it to be scolded in front of the others for being late. The shadowsinger just shook his head, a smirk dancing on his lips as he sipped his coffee.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

As the day gave space to the night, Gwyn found herself surrounded by her two best friends, getting ready for the celebration ahead. Emerie was talking about how she was going to finally make a move on Morrigan, how tonight was the perfect night for that.

But her mind drifted far away from the moment, her thoughts poisoned by the blind jealousy and the nauseating pain of thinking about her mate spending all of his time with someone else, especially someone so beautiful and kind like Elain.

“Gwyn!” Nesta snapped her slender fingers in front of her face and she blinked a few times, being harshly pulled away from her own head. “Are you ready?” The redhead nodded. “Then let's go.”

She quickly looked around, watching how beautiful her two friends looked in their solstice outfits, her eyes drifting briefly to the floor length mirror, her dress was simple, a clear shade of blue, not showing much, but she still felt so beautiful. She smiled to herself and followed the two outside.

The party was wonderful, flowers and lights hang from the ceiling, people laughed and people danced, Gwyn felt the joyous atmosphere around her, making her smile involuntarily to everyone that greeted her like they were truly happy she was there with them, the feeling of belonging to a home making itself present in her heart.

Azriel wasn’t anywhere she could see, so she grabbed a glass of fizzling juice and went to watch Nesta and Cassian dance in the middle of the animated couples that tried to mimic their intricate moves.

“Having fun?” A soft voice sounded behind her and she turned, meeting the smiling face of Elain as she did.

“Yeah, I'm just waiting for Azriel to show up, he's a bit late.” Elaine chuckled and shook her head.

“That's unusual, I wonder if he's up to something.” The female winked and Gwyn raised an eyebrow.

“What?” she inquired.

“All your questions will be answered at midnight, be at the cave where you meet your fellow priestesses to pray.” And with that she left, leaving an astonished Gwyneth behind.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

She tapped her fingers impatiently, it was almost midnight, all of the couples were together laughing and she was standing in a corner alone, waiting for a mate that didn't appear the whole night.

She discarded the empty glass she was holding on a nearby table, gathering her skirt and marching towards the library entry, curiosity filling every pore of her body, she wanted to see what was happening.

The cold winds of winter chilled her body as she entered the praying cave, the shadows danced as candle light flickered along the way to the open arch that led to the middle of the cave.

“What in the name of the mother is he doing here?” she mumbled to herself just to be shut up by voices echoing in the cavernous space.

The harmony that belonged to her sisters cradled her heart, she hadn't heard that song before, so she kicked her heels, her bare foot carrying her towards the place that emanated the song.

Gwyn came to a stop, the cave was filled with candles, Merrill stood on the side, guiding the choir of priestesses, the females harmonizing together to a slow melody.

Shadows moved and revealed the Shadowsinger standing with a black suit in the middle of a wave of blue the others wore. Her eyes immediately watered as she realized what was happening, all of those times begging him to sing to her, only to be dismissed, with him saying she was going to listen to him when the time was right.

Her heart hammered against her chest as he took a deep breath, his lips parted and a deep, melodic voice came out of him, the words flowing like the calmest river.

Boys workin on empty

Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat?

I just think about my baby

I'm so full of love, I could barely eat

Gwyn had never heard those lyrics before, and by the shy gleam in his eyes, she knew. He had written those words, that song, just for her.

There's nothing sweeter than my baby

I'd never want once from the cherry tree

Cause my baby's sweet as can be

She give me toothaches just from kissing me

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I'll crawl home to her

The priestesses kept singing in the background with Merril guiding them, some doing the backing vocals for him, their voices working so beautifully together.

That’s when my baby found me

I was three days on a drunken sin

I woke with her walls around me

Nothin in her room, but an empty crib

And I was burnin up a fever

I didn't care much how long I lived

But I swear I thought I dreamed her

She never asked me once about the wrong I did

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I'll crawl home to her

Tears rolled down her cheeks freely, she wanted to run towards him, throw herself into his arms and stay there forever, after everything she's been through, not even once she dreamed of someone like him loving someone like her, the feeling of knowing he was hers, nothing could compare in the entire world.

My baby never fret none

About what my hands and my body done

If the Lord don't forgive me

I'd still have my baby

And my babe would have me

When I was kissing on my baby

And she put her love down soft and sweet

In the low lamp light I was free

Heaven and hell were words to me

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I'll crawl home to her

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I'll crawl home to her

He repeated the chorus, the choir following him, humming the melody until their voices faded into the confined space of the cave, leaving a teary eyed Gwyn to watch in awe.

“Happy solstice, my love,” he said, his body moving towards her, until all that separated them was mere inches, his scarred hands cupping her cheeks.

“That was the most beautiful gift I've ever received.” She sobbed, letting the weight of her face fall to his soft palm.

“I'm so sorry I've been distant these past weeks, but arranging all of thistook time.” He smiled sheepishly at her, his own eyes glistening.

“I'm the one who's sorry, for doubting you, I know you would never do anything to hurt me, I'm so sorry. I love you so much” He brushed her face, wiping the tears away from her eyes.

“My love for you is the only thing that you should never doubt, what I feel for you, I know the Mother crafted my heart with her bare hands until all it could fit was you.” He lowered his head, capturing her lips in a soft, intimate kiss, her hands scratched the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Thank you for this, for loving me and proving that I was wrong.” She giggled. “But what about the ring?” He raised an eyebrow.

“What ring?” He pulled a box out of his pocket. “This ring?” He opened it and her eyes widened, she knew that gem anywhere, the piece of Catrin’s headpiece gem, crafted into a beautiful ring. “So you never forget that we both love you.” He slid the ring on her finger. “No matter where we are.”

More tears fell from her eyes and she threw her arms around his neck, her makeup ruined as she buried her face against his chest, inhaling his scent.

“You're the answer to all of my prayers,” she mumbled, her voice muffled by his shirt.

“And you are the answer to mine,” he replied, kissing the top of her head. Gwyn took a deep breath, her heart finally beating in peace, in the same rhythm as his.

#acotar #azriel shadowsinger #moonlightazriel #azriel #shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #gwyn acotar #gwyneth berdara #pro gwyn #gwynriel #pro gwynriel #gwyn x azriel #gwyneth x azriel #acotar gift exchange #acotar gift exchange 2024 #acotar fanfiction

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thatoneneuvichiliauthor · 2 months ago

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Small piece of post-canon Jayvik fluff and hurt/comfort

Jayce sighs against the grass, deeply content, as Viktor kneads the sore muscles of his back. They should probably get going, leave this flower field they’ve been teleported to and go explore the world, but they both have been deprived of affection for so long… They need this first, need to let their love for each other gently bloom anew after this interminable winter.

They’ve exchanged countless kisses already, but somehow, this, the tender press of his partner’s metal hands into his flesh, feels even more intimate. Under his thorough care, a tension that has lingered for months evacuates from Jayce’s body. Wherever Viktor touches, the corruption that has been incessantly plaguing him recedes. He doesn’t know how that’s possible, nor does he care. At the moment, only the relief matters to his pleasantly dazed mind.

However, as those marvelous fingers reach the center of his back, Viktor stills for a second, hesitant.

“Is this alright? Your scar… I wouldn’t want to put too much strain on it.”

“ ‘S okay. Feels good.” Jayce mumbles.

Just like that, the blissful ministrations resume, although his partner lightly caresses the damaged skin more than he massages it. And as a perfect addition, Viktor leans down to put a kiss right in between his shoulder blades

“Very well. Just tell me if there are any spots I should avoid.”

“It’s fine. I’ve had time to heal and… I know you’ll be gentle. You can touch all of me.”

His partner chuckles warmly at his choice of words.

“Careful there, Jayce. I could take you up on that offer.”

Still, for all his teasing, his strokes remain chaste, with no other purpose than to release Jayce of his dull suffering.

“And maybe I’d like you to,” He dreamily replies. “Just… later?”

Because, while he desires Viktor more than he has ever desired anyone else, he also yearns to prolong this soft, gentle moment, to melt into it like snow under the sun. So, for now, he’d rather surrender himself to its healing warmth than expose his bruised body to the raging fires of passion.

Oh, he doesn’t doubt he’ll be able to withstand that blazing heat soon enough, looks forward to it, even, but first, his many injuries need to be soothed and tended to before he can truly flourish again. Most of those wounds aren’t even visible, hidden deep within the maze of his psyche, but Viktor knows how to reach them with his loving touch and comforting voice all the same.

“Of course. Later.”

On that soft murmur, he returns to his task, gentle, devoted. His hands map all of Jayce’s body; His broad back, of course, but also his neck, his knotted shoulders, his waist, his legs… Those receive special care, especially the hurt one.

Viktor runs his fingers all over the damaged calf until not a single trace of corruption remains there. Jayce cannot help but gasp as the persistent throbbing finally ceases. It doesn’t take all of his pain away, of course not – At this point, nothing won’t. But it is such a groundbreaking change that it brings tears to his eyes.

It’s not just about the physical relief, though. The corruption of that awful timeline receding from his flesh… It stands as an ultimate testament to their bond, undeniable evidence that in the end, Viktor chose him and he chose Viktor…

A dam within him breaks. His shrunken heart, which has been inevitably withering without his partner there to delicately nurture it, gets nearly drowned in love. Emotions he believed long dead, or at the very least forever stunted, violently blossom within his chest. An intense sob shakes his tall frame.

“Jayce!” Viktor exclaims, worried. “Did… Did I hurt you?”

Words alone cannot even begin to describe what he is feeling, so Jayce rolls around and pulls his distressed partner into a tight hug.

“No, no you didn’t. I’m sorry, it’s just… I’m so happy, you have no idea… I have you back. I… I really have you back.” He whispers in amazed disbelief.

Tears born of pure happiness and adoration veil Viktor’s honey eyes also. His hands come to rest on Jayce’s relaxed back and hold him close. To his surprise, they are warm against his skin.

Human.

Covered in rough scars, much like Jayce’s leg, but human.

They are making each other human again.

Another sob crawls its way up his throat at this beautiful discovery.

“Oh, Jayce. Of course, you have me back. I won’t be going anywhere without you. You said it yourself, haven’t you? We finish this together.”

Jayce kisses him. Not on the lips, like he has done so many times before, but on the side of his jaw, just so he can see the unfeeling metal give way to soft flesh. He watches in awe as that miracle takes place, then directs his attention higher, toward his partner’s cheek this time.

As he dutifully covers all of his partner’s face and neck in kisses, laughter bubbles up their chest, sweet and carefree. Jayce feels lighter than he has in years, no longer crushed under an unbearable weight.

For a moment, the entire universe stands still, except for the gentle sway of the flowers under the breeze.

For a moment, their hearts beat in perfect tandem.

For a moment, nothing exists but them.

#jayvik #jayce x viktor #jayce talis #jayce arcane #viktor arcane #my writing #I thought I would post it on here too #since it was one of the options of the poll I made a while back

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lai-mar · 11 months ago

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I think. For me L+M is another example of a male+female pairing that seems a little too straightforward to ship in canon and hence some fans view it as “boring” and “low hanging fruit”, and as a result the ship is less popular despite having canon crumbs that you can interpret in a shippy way. So the ship being low hanging fruit turns around? In canon they have a strong friendship and lots of moments, and that’s what I like them as, friends (and they are canonically friends). Shipping these “straightforward straight pairings” can be a bit squicky (because I tend to think they are more interesting nonromantically) but it turns out in the end I will blatantly blaze through my squicks because I am desperate for content. And also because shippers actually care about them and their bond.

However, for these pairings people SOMEHOW usually impose a familial interpretation (siblings, in-laws) even though they are not related in canon either by blood or marriage. It’s more acceptable in DM because F/M certainly gets a lot of crumbs but it also kinda makes me salty to see people reduce L+M to being in laws only, like their only connection is through Falin, and that is just plain wrong. I have seen so many male+female pairings that get stuck in the fanon “sibling-coded” area and it’s like… guys it’s okay to not like them as a ship and not make them siblings. Guys. Not every kind of love has to be romantic or familial. I think sibling coding is fun and all that but sometimes it does feel like a “gotcha! I totally do not ship them because they’re like SIBLINGS to me and if you ship them you’re WEIRD”.

L+M would still be funny if it’s the fanon “lesbian elf teams up with her gf’s autistic brother and they squabble but work together to save the day” but canon L+M just drives me crazy because they obviously develop a bond outside of the other people they love, and they’ve basically known each other for two years only which is short even for a tallman lifespan, let alone Marcille’s. Actually I think what really gets me about L+M is that every time they get a moment that can be interpreted as shippy (eg. succubus, M wearing the dress in the Golden Country, even M knitting in the room with L in the Kensuke extra just like her mom used to do with her dad), there might be a few blushes and nervousness, but they quickly return to the status quo of being comfortable and physically affectionate with each other. Which you can interpret them as not seeing each other romantically, in deep denial, or they’re just so comfortable with each other that they don’t need to define their relationship, they just are.

Tbh the widespread DM fanon did mislead me a bunch, I thought we would get obvious F/M shipping or even confirmation after the bath scene but nope. I thought L+M would kinda stay the way they were pre Ep 11 and have a fun back and forth bit noooo they had to go and save each other and learn about each other’s deepest desires. I was shocked that they weren’t being discussed on such a widespread level considering how much screentime and importance they both get. Saw someone say “the romance between F/M is the catalyst and main plot driver” and I want to bang my head against the wall. DM has ship crumbs for a ton of ships but nothing has ever been confirmed canon and I’m happier because of it and it’s fun to explore.

I would say L+M needs better PR but honestly just read the manga, it does all the PR lmao. I can forgive anime onlies but if you read the manga you surely cannot ignore the elephant in the room.

#mine #lmao when i finished dunmeshi i wrote a post somewhere else abt how i accidentally got into l+m #and a mutual was like. [staring at my fav dynamic from a diff fandom] oh of course you latched into l+m #save me a man and a woman being friends. save me #long post

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imaginesforfandom · 1 year ago

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Heartbeat Symphony

AHHHH i love this man too much lmao. this is short and sweet so have fun my lovelies!

how have i not written for this man yet like-

Dean Winchester x Reader

No pronouns used

Summary: After a long day on the road, the couple finds solace in the comfort of the Impala. The story explores the quiet moments between hunts, emphasizing the deep connection and love they share. Back at the bunker, they unwind together, appreciating the simplicity of being a team both in and out of the field. The narrative highlights the strength of their bond and the sense of home they find in each other's company.

Heartbeat Symphony

Dean Winchester sat in the driver's seat of the Impala, one hand casually resting on the steering wheel as he glanced over at you. The rhythmic hum of the engine was the backdrop to the comfortable silence that filled the car. You had been on the road for hours, chasing down the latest lead on a case, and now the two of you were finally heading back to the bunker.

As Dean drove, he stole glances at you, appreciating the way the soft glow from the dashboard highlighted the contours of your face. The quiet moments between hunts were just as precious as the action-packed ones. He reached over, fingers brushing against yours, and a warm smile formed on his lips as he interlaced them.

"You doing okay, Y/N?" Dean asked, his voice a soothing melody that echoed through the Impala.

You nodded, leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder. "Yeah, just tired. Ready to get back and hit the hay."

Dean chuckled, the sound vibrating through both of you. "Well, we make a damn good team, don't we?"

You smirked, lifting your head to meet his eyes. "The best. Team Winchester."

As the familiar sight of the bunker came into view, Dean couldn't help but feel a swell of contentment. The two of you had been through so much together, and yet, every moment felt like a new adventure with you by his side.

Once inside the bunker, you kicked off your boots and flopped down onto the worn-out couch in the library. Dean joined you, sitting close enough that your shoulders brushed against each other. He reached for the TV remote, flicking through the channels until he found an old black-and-white movie.

"You know," Dean said, his arm finding its way around your shoulders, "we make a pretty good team in and out of the field."

You laughed, snuggling closer. "Yeah, we do. I wouldn't want to hunt monsters with anyone else."

Dean turned his head, planting a soft kiss on your forehead. "Me neither, Y/N."

The movie played in the background, but you found yourself more captivated by the steady cadence of Dean's heartbeat. It was a comforting symphony, a reminder that you were home, safe in the arms of the person you loved.

As the night wore on, you both drifted off to sleep on the couch, tangled together in a mess of limbs and blankets. The bunker echoed with the quiet sounds of the TV and the distant hum of the machinery that kept the place running.

In the darkness, Dean whispered words of love, promises, and gratitude, knowing that every day with you was a gift. And as you slept, you couldn't help but smile, feeling the warmth of his love surround you like a protective embrace. Together, you faced the challenges that came your way, hand in hand, heart in heart, a team bound by something stronger than any supernatural force – love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

i loved writing this OMG!! i can't believe i haven't written for Dean yet. i absolutely adore him so so much lmao

#dean winchester #dean #supernatural #spn #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x you #dean winchester x y/n #dean x y/n #dean winchester imagine #dean imagine #dean winchester fanfiction #dean fanfic #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfic #dean winchester oneshot #dean oneshot

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loganwritesprobably · 4 days ago

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Double Date

Tags/Warnings: Law/Cani & Shachi/Keskil, Dahlia, Lana, Tobiuo, Mac, fluff, family dynamics, friends to lovers Word Count: 679 Happy birthday @queenmimi2817

Art by @skullfacedlady

If you’d asked him just a few months ago, Law never would’ve guessed that this would be where he’d gotten to in his life, yet with Cani’s arms wrapped around his, hanging onto him like she never wanted to let go, and one of his oldest friends walking up ahead holding the hand of a boy Law thought long since lost to the sins of his past, he couldn’t help being grateful. Canidae had been the one to suggest it, the idea of going out together, and Keskil had easily latched onto it, always happy to do something with his dear sister, and Shachi was never one to deny his boy, so Law was unable to refuse (see: happy to agree).

Mostly, they’d been content to just go with the flow of things rather than planning to any significant degree, so with just the confirmation from Keskil that the island was safe, they docked up and left the rest of the crew to their own activities to just explore and see what they could find. Lana had also disembarked to go exploring alone with Penguin, telling them to have fun, and they returned the sentiment; Dahlia remained aboard the Tang with Tobiuo, Mac, Bepo and Jean Bart to both look after the vessel and do their daily chores, plus some, to allow the happy couples to enjoy their time together without the looming knowledge that they had work to do after their happy day together.

Shachi pointed out pretty or interesting bits of the scenery in the town or decorations, wth Keskil following his eyes and finger, eager to see everything Shachi thought worth pointing out, and Law watched with a smile.

Shachi and Keskil claimed a table and when Law and Cani caught up, they joined them, Keskil and Canidae sitting opposite each other, with their partners beside them. They spent a while just chatting about the menu, then ordered drinks and their meals. Law looked around the table as Cani and Keskil began chatting about something he wasn’t entirely paying attention to, Shachi focused on his boyfriend, the hearts in his eyes practically visible. These were his people, his little family. Canidae and Keskil, siblings who risked never meeting who were now closer than anyone would’ve guessed; Law himself and Keskil, who were almost raised as brothers; Law and Shachi, brothers in arms for years past and to come. Of course, his family extended further than those at the table, to Bepo and Penguin and Ikkaku and Lana and Mac and Clione and Hakugan and Tobiuo - but in that moment he could feel it in the air, the bonds between them, and how deep they ran.

“I’m glad Keskil is happy.” Canidae said after a moment, and Law hummed.

“So am I. He hasn’t told us everything, not yet, but having spent time with Doflamingo I could guess what he’s been through. He’s more than earned it.” Canidae nodded, brushing her cheek affectionately against Law’s arm, and for a moment silence fell over them.

“Are you?” She asked eventually.

“Am I what?”

“Happy.” Law stopped, forcing Cani to stop as well, and with a hand on each of her shoulders, he pulled her chest to chest with him.

“You make me very happy, Tenrou.” Canidae’s face flushed a dark shade, and the let her head fall forward to rest on Law’s chest, though she was grinning. They let a beat pass, just enjoying the warm feeling between them, before Shachi called out for them to catch up, after all, they had a meal to enjoy together.

“Right Law?” Cani said, making him blink back to awareness.

“He was not paying attention.” Keskil said, looking stern as his eyes focused on Cani.

“He totally was, weren’t you?”

“Sure?”

“So you agree with me, right?”

“What are the consequences if I don’t?”

“You already know.”

“Then I agree wholeheartedly.”

“See? I told you he wouldn’t mind if I ate the entire chocolate cake to myself.

“Canidae..” Law sighed with exasperation, but he wouldn’t change her even for a moment.

#one piece #fanfic #writing #loganwritesfanfics #trafalgar law #shachi #shachi x oc #law x oc #fey tenrou #canidae

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knickynoo · 2 days ago

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Huge fan of your analysis posts! What are your thoughts on Emmett having a younger sibling and what that relationship would be like?

Hello! Sorry this response is delayed. And thank you! Glad you enjoy my posts :)

You know, I think this ask is a first! Don't think I've ever been asked for thoughts on if Doc had siblings or even seen anyone else in the fandom mention headcanons for the concept.

My first thought was, "Oh, it'd have to be an alternate universe situation since Doc canonically doesn't have siblings," but actually, you know what? I don't think we actually have solid confirmation that he's an only child. I mean, it certainly seems that way (and is likely to be the case in canon) but who's to say he couldn't have siblings—either much younger or much older—who simply aren't mentioned in the movies or other extensions of the BTTF universe? They could be living far away. They could be estranged. Many possibilities. Let's explore!

You mention a younger sibling specifically, so we'll go with that.

• I'm gonna headcanon that this younger sibling is a sister, purely because that would kind of fit in better with what we know about the Brown family—primarily where Erhardt is concerned. (Mostly pulling from the video game here) We know young Emmett has constant pressure put on him to live up to his father's expectations and follow in his footsteps of becoming a judge or having some law-centered career. I feel like it'd make more sense for him to be the only son, then, as Erhardt probably wouldn't be that fixated on molding or controlling a daughter in that same way, especially given the time period.

• I like the idea of this sister being much younger—like maybe 10 or more year difference between her and Emmett. Erhardt was hoping for another son since it was clear that Emmett already wasn't going to turn out how he wanted, but he warmed up to a daughter fairly quickly.

• I could actually see a situation in which there's a stark difference between how Emmett and his sister are treated by their father. Erhardt is gentler and more loving with her, willing to let her find her own path, etc. (Sarah treats them both equally, though)

• I think it'd be fun if Emmett's sister is pretty different from him personality-wise. Outgoing and extroverted, a free-spirit artsy type, maybe. Socially confident.

• Despite the age difference, she and Emmett get along well, though. They love each other and have a deep bond. She's a bookworm, so Emmett spends a lot of time reading Jules Verne stories to her.

• I should come up with a name for her. How about Ada? Emmett and Ada. That's cute. Anyway! As protective as Emmett comes to be over his sister, she's also protective of him, even at a very young age. She knows Emmett is more of an outcast and is very sensitive when it comes to how others treat him.

• I know Doc seems very reclusive and hermit-like in that big ol' mansion in 1955, but we can work Ada into that anyway! Because she's free-spirited, she gets out of Hill Valley probably around college age and is content with making a life of her own and "letting go" of a bulk of the Brown family fortune. But she keeps in touch regularly with Emmett via weekly phone calls and visits every so often.

• I think it'd be really funny to imagine her making her regularly scheduled call at some point during that week that Marty was in 1955. She asks how Emmett is, if anything interesting is happening, and he just eyes the teenage boy who dropped in from the future and goes, "Umm...no, no. Normal week. Just me and Copernicus and no one else." *rubs at the gash on his forehead from his recent concussion* "Very normal week. How are you?"

There are probably more ideas I could come up with if I let this idea marinate a bit, but that's about it for now. I'll leave you with this snippet of dialogue from one of the BTTF 2 drafts that actually supports the idea of Doc having siblings.

Thanks for the ask!

#asks #back to the future #bttf #doc brown

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sjsmith56 · 5 months ago

Text

The Precious Heart - A Private Man, Chapter 9

Summary: After staying over Tracey accompanies Bucky and Rebecca to a local farmer’s market. Her skills as a nurse are displayed during a medical emergency.

Length: 4.3 K

Characters: Bucky, Tracey, Rebecca, Amina.

Warnings: Minors DNI - contains sexual content which is unsuitable for readers under the age of 18. Medical emergency requiring CPR.

Author notes: More exploration of the deepening relationship between Bucky and Tracey. Divider by vecteezy.com.

<<Chapter 8

After a dinner that Bucky and Tracey prepared, sharing tastes and soft kisses during cooking, the three of them settled in the living room to watch Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune. Alley Cat was curled up in Rebecca's lap, seemingly content to receive her touch. The couple held hands as they tried to guess the answers on both shows. It was ridiculously normal, and they loved every moment of it. For both of them just having someone close to care about, rely on, and fall in love with had been a gift that neither had expected. Later they both put Rebecca to bed; Tracey dressing her in her night clothes, Bucky reading to her, both of them kissing her good night in a ritual that they all benefitted from. Just before they closed the door Alley Cat came into the bedroom, jumped on the bed and curled up next to Rebecca. She smiled and placed her hand gently on the cat. In the living room, Bucky put some soft music on and sat with Tracey on his lap, kissing and caressing each other. He wanted to ask her something, but she brought it up first as she ran her fingers through his thick, dark hair.

"You know, I've had a couple of dreams of putting a child to bed," she said softly. "One with blue eyes, just like yours."

"So have I," he admitted, "but she looks like you. Do you want children?"

"Yeah, I always wanted them," she replied. "I have a few nieces and nephews and would look after them when their parents went out. They were sweet kids."

"How many siblings do you have?" asked Bucky.

"Two sisters and a brother," she replied. "Ben is 45, divorced now, but he has three kids. Wendy is 42, with two kids and Lena is 40 with three kids. Their mother died when they were kids and and a few years later my Dad met my Mom, married her. It wasn't a good marriage."

She stopped talking and buried her face in his neck for a moment. Bucky held her close, stroking her back while she dealt with what were obviously unhappy memories. Finally, she took a deep breath and spoke again.

"My Dad was jealous of her, very possessive, because she was quite young. She was a good mother, even to the others and they bonded better with her than they did with him. He became abusive and as soon as they could leave they did but Mom stayed with him, sure she could change him."

"Is that why you're so quiet?" he asked. "You were afraid to draw his attention to you?"

Tracey nodded then burrowed herself tighter into Bucky. "I didn't dare date because he thought every boy was out for one thing. Every innocent encounter I had with a boy was subject to an interrogation, wanting to know if I was sneaking around, being promiscuous, drinking, doing drugs. Mom tried to protect me, but it wasn't until I got into nursing school that I was finally able to break away. Even then, when I became involved with Geoff, my ex-husband, and he made it known he wanted a virgin wife, my dad was thrilled. He didn't care that Geoff was a liar, that the marriage was just a sham to cement his family's reputation as a God-fearing Christian family. When I told him that Geoff was cheating, he blamed it on me, for not being a dutiful wife."

Her face looked up at his and Bucky could see the pain in her eyes, pain that he felt and shared deep inside. Not everyone was tortured by a machine, but they were still tortured emotionally. Softly, he kissed her and held her close.

"You still carry those scars," he whispered. "I hear it in your voice, see it in your eyes. I'm honoured that you trust me enough to tell me. You will always be safe with me. Whatever violence that was done to me when I was HYDRA's captive, I vowed never to pass it on to someone I love, neither by action nor voice."

"I know," she smiled. "I saw it that first night, how gentle you were with Rebecca when you put her to bed. You have a lifetime of repressed love waiting to burst forth and I'm so ready to receive and return it."

They kissed again, a joining of hearts and minds between two people who had been hurt and isolated from the comfort of others. The soft music played on as they sat in their close embrace. Never had Bucky felt so calm as he did with Tracey. Her hand was on his chest for much of it, feeling his warmth through his shirt.

"This is nice," said Bucky softly then he swallowed and nudged her head with his chin. "Do you want to go to bed?"

"I'm not tired," she replied, smiling slightly.

"Neither am I, but I still want to go to bed."

She looked up at him, noticing his eyes were dark. There was no anger, or irritation but there was desire and a soft look that pleaded with her silently. Moving her hand to his cheek she ran it back towards his hair and he leaned into it before lowering his lips to hers. As he wrapped his arms around her during the kiss, she had the same feeling whenever she became involved in an old black and white romance on TV. In a sense he was asking her to surrender to him, but Tracey realized he had already surrendered to her. There would be no force just an invitation to be his and only his just as he belonged to her.

"Bucky," she whispered. "Let's go to bed."

Without effort he stood up, holding her in his arms. Leaning towards the light switch she turned it off and they kissed again as he carried her in the dark to the bedroom. When he closed the door behind them, he let her down and pressed her into the wall, kissing her passionately before kneeling before her and undoing her jeans, pulling them down. His mouth was on her thighs, nuzzling into the apex of them, then pressing his mouth into her abdomen. He looked up at her from below, slightly breathless and Tracey pulled her shirt off, tossing it to the side. His shirt came off immediately and he enclosed her in his arms as he buried his face into her core before leaning back and gazing up at her.

With a sudden realization that she was being worshipped by the man kneeling in front of her, Tracey knew that whatever happened now was by her leave. As he waited for her permission she ran her hand through his hair and Bucky leaned into her touch, closing his eyes at the sensation she bestowed upon him. Reaching to her back she removed her bra then hooked her fingers into the sides of her panties and began lowering them. With a smile Bucky finished removing them and lifted one of her legs onto his shoulder.

"I won't let you fall," he promised in a whisper, looking up at her, as a supplicant would look up to his queen.

Nodding, Tracey grasped his hair with her hand and gasped when he thrust his mouth into her folds, exploring that part of her with his lips and tongue. Immediately she gripped his hair tightly as the sensations overwhelmed her. When he lifted her other leg onto his other shoulder and held her in place with just his hands and the wall there was a small sense of panic at first and she grasped his ears with both hands. His soft touches didn't stop, and she relaxed her grip to the point where she let go and began to caress her own breasts. When she looked down at him, he was watching, and she moved her hips in response. A hum from his throat signalled his approval and she moved in tandem with him making herself more and more aroused. Her cries and gasps grew louder and more desperate until her orgasm exploded inside. She squeezed her thighs together trapping Bucky's head between them before he slowed down his efforts and finally stopped, allowing her to put her legs on the ground. Reaching for his shirt he wiped his face and looked up at her again.

"You alright?" he asked, running his hands over her thighs, still on his knees.

"My legs feel rubbery."

Standing up Bucky lifted Tracey into his arms again and laid her on the bed. He unzipped his jeans and stripped down, climbing under the covers with her. Burrowing into his side Tracey sought the warmth of his skin as she shivered slightly. When she didn't stop Bucky went to the linen closet in the hallway and brought in another blanket, doubling it up on top of her.

"That might have been too much exertion for you," he said. "You probably felt like you were going to fall."

"It crossed my mind," she whispered. "Still not used to how strong you are."

"I had you, angel," he murmured. "If it was too much for you I won't do it again."

It took a few minutes, but Tracey finally stopped shivering and they laid there holding each other.

"I found a song that makes me think of us," she said suddenly. "I've been listening to it on the car between appointments."

"Yeah? Do you think I'll like it?"

"I hope so," she replied, as she got out of the bed and took her cell phone out of her purse.

She got back in and laid partially on top of Bucky, searching for it on her phone. Pressing play, she laid with her head on his chest and brought up the lyrics as the song played. He listened and read the lyrics without comment, his face thoughtful but when it got to the chorus he smiled.

I wanna stand with you on a mountain

I wanna bathe with you in the sea

I wanna lay like this forever

Until the sky falls down on me.

"I like that," he said. "What's it called?"

"Truly, Madly, Deeply by Savage Garden," she said. "It was a hit in the 1990s."

"I would put that on my phone," he said. "I found another song as well. Can I find it on your phone?"

She handed her phone to him and he brought up The Very Thought of You, sung by Nat King Cole. Together they listened to it and when it came to the last line "It's just the thought of you, The very thought of you, my love" Tracey smiled and kissed him.

"That's beautiful. Are you going to add it to your playlist?"

He nodded. "Still like the 1940s music best, although I guess this version is from the 1950s. It was originally out in 1934 when I was a teenager."

"What were you like when you were young?" asked Tracey, still laying partially on top of Bucky so she could see his face.

"It was the Depression so I worked a lot of odd jobs with Steve to make extra money for the family. I was a good student and athlete, hoped to get a scholarship but it didn't happen so I worked on the Brooklyn docks after I graduated high school in 1935. Tried to save up enough to go to college but found out I liked to go out dancing with a different girl most nights too much. Then the war came along, I got drafted and went straight into basic training. The 1940s music kind of remind me of the man I used to be. Maybe that's why I like it better."

"I like it too," replied Tracey. "It was very romantic dancing to the music you picked last week. Made me feel like I was in a movie. You make me feel like I'm in a movie, a romance."

"I'm just being a gentleman. I want you to feel special because you are, to me."

His hand was caressing her hair while Tracey was running her fingertips over his chest muscles. She looked up at him and on impulse she kissed him, softly at first, then as they looked at each other it became more passionate. As he turned towards her he gazed deeply into her eyes then kissed her again, fiercely. Gently pushing Tracey onto her back Bucky laid on top and ground his hips into her. She responded by lifting her hips into his and lowered her hand down between them to stroke his thickening cock. From there she touched herself and Bucky gently raised her fingers to his lips, kissing then licking them gently while watching her intently.

"I'm wet," she whispered.

"I can tell," he replied. "Do you want to try it without lubricant?"

She didn't answer but she did touch herself again then stroked her fingers over his shaft. Gently she grasped him and guided him inside of her, breathing her way through his entry. When he was in all the way she ran her hands over his waist then down to his cheeks.

"Feels good to me," she said in a low voice that changed to a pleasured moan as Bucky pulled out slightly and pressed himself back in.

"I'm not too heavy?" he asked as he slowly moved his hips, pressing himself into that sensitive spot with just enough friction to feel her body respond.

"I like feeling you on me," she gasped back, as she grasped what she could of his muscled torso and ass. "You're mine, Bucky. You're my man, I'm your woman and this is us, joined at the hip."

She laughed at her use of the phrase, a laugh that turned into a whimper as she felt pleasure from his thrust. His face was buried in her neck, mouthing it, with his tongue and teeth gently claiming her as he tasted the sweet saltiness of her body. Their mouths met in a joining of lips and tongue that seemed to complete a circuit between them, pressed hard together as they both opened themselves to the physical desires of the other. For what seemed like an eternity but wasn't long enough they were aware only of their partner, of the sounds of pleasure, the taste of sweat and salt, the feel of hot, aroused flesh, and finally the searing white flash of orgasm, with both straining to release the bliss from their core, willing it to overtake their entire body. They laid together, still joined for some time before Tracey put her hand on his face.

"I love you."

She said the words before she kissed him again.

"Inima ta este prețioasă pentru mine," he whispered. "Your heart is precious to me."

"Say more to me," she asked. "I could listen to you talk in a foreign language all night."

He smiled, then carefully pulled out and shifted to her side, telling her the story of Sir Gawain and Dame Ragnelle in French. When he was finished, he told it to her in English.

"Sir Gawain was one of King Arthur's knights and he freely agreed to marry a foul faced woman, Ragnelle, after she helped to save the life of the King. On their wedding night when she entered the bed chamber, she was beautiful and explained that she had been under an enchantment. By freely agreeing to marry her he had already broken part of the curse – for she could live as a beautiful woman by either day or night but the rest of the time she had to wear her foul face. She asked him to choose which he preferred, beautiful by day or beautiful by night. He refused to do so, saying it was her right to choose for herself, and he would abide by her choice. With that decision it was revealed that the curse was broken completely, and she would live as a beautiful woman for all hours of the day and night. They married and were happy because giving her the choice freed her to love him as herself."

Tracey didn't say anything for some time, just gazed at him then she moved her head to rest against his chest and kissed it.

"You really are a romantic man, aren't you?" she asked. "You amaze me in every way."

"I'm amazed that you chose me," he countered. "You accepted me at face value and that meant a lot."

He almost said more but Tracey raised her head, covered his mouth with hers for a soft kiss, then pressed her forehead against his mouth, accepting his kiss on it. Closing his eyes, he held her without saying anything more because it wasn't needed.

🌅

It surprised him when he woke up the next morning by himself. For a moment he lay there then he propped himself up on his elbow and smiled when he heard Tracey and Rebecca talking. Throwing some underwear and his jeans on he picked up a T-shirt and stepped out of the bedroom, walking the short hallway to the kitchen in his bare feet. Both women were dressed and smiled at him. Tracey was leaning against the counter while Rebecca sat in her walker seat.

"You ready for a coffee?" asked Tracey.

"I wouldn't mind a shower first," he said, then he looked at the clock. "You let me sleep in."

"I did. You looked so peaceful there, so I had my shower and by then Rebecca was ready to get up. We were just talking about what we should do today."

"What did you have in mind?" asked Bucky, running his hand through his hair.

"Farmer's market in McCarren Park," stated Rebecca. "We can take our time, pick up some fresh produce. Amina said a lot of them from the newcomer's centre go there as it reminds them of their home, in happier times."

"Okay, sounds like a plan," said Bucky. "I'm going to take that shower then I'll make my favourite ladies some breakfast."

"Why don't you let us make you breakfast?" asked Tracey. "I already have cinnamon buns rising in the oven."

Bucky's eyes sparkled. Tracey made him cinnamon buns. He looked at his sister, at the grin on her face and knew she probably told Tracey they were his favourite. By the look on her face there was more that the two were planning. He raised his hands in surrender and went to the bathroom, deciding to take longer than his usual five minutes, even taking the time to shave. When he came out they were putting the finishing touches on the table, including a small bouquet of chrysanthemums from the back yard, which were beginning to bloom. Gathering Tracey in his arms he hugged her, feeling fortunate to have her in his life. Then he put his arm around Rebecca's shoulder and kissed her cheek, loving her so much at that moment. He looked at the spread; not just cinnamon buns but bacon, sausages, scrambled eggs, pancakes and a bowl of cut up fresh fruit with Greek yogurt and honey.

"You two went all out," he said, with emotion.

"Well, you've cooked for us," said Rebecca. "We decided to cook for you. Even I helped. The walker makes it easier for me."

They sat down and ate almost everything. His sister noticeably ate more than she usually did. Bucky said something about good food and good company which both women agreed with. They were all surprised when Alley Cat jumped on the table and stole the last piece of bacon, running to a hiding place to eat it.

"I'm sorry," exclaimed Tracey. "He's never done that before."

"Guess he likes the food as well," said Bucky. "I'll clean up. Least I can do."

Soon they were in the car headed to McCarren Park. On the way Bucky and Rebecca reminisced about going there to see Fourth of July fireworks when they were younger. When they arrived Tracey dropped them off then parked and returned to find them talking with Amina and her family.

"Miss Tracey," called the Sudanese woman, pleased to see the young woman. "Have you ever met my husband Irshad? He couldn't come to the feast at the newcomer center as he was working but he has today off."

She greeted the tall man and he bowed his head to her briefly. "My wife has told me much about you, Mr. Bucky, and Mrs. Rebecca," he said. "She is very fond of all three of you."

"We're very fond of her," said Rebecca, grasping the hand of Amina. "She is one of my angels."

They began walking as a group with Rebecca and Amina still holding hands. Kafeel walked beside his father but looked back at Bucky several times.

"I think he likes you," said Tracey. "You do have a soft side that kids respond to, once they get past your serious face."

"I'm smiling more," replied Bucky. "They're good kids."

They stopped at a food booth where Amina spoke in Arabic to the vendor. Bucky listened and smiled.

"Looks like we're getting a free sample," he said.

Amina turned to them holding two paper cups, offering one to Rebecca and one to Tracey, then she got a third one for Bucky. It had a beautiful red colouring and smelled like flowers.

"This is Sudanese hibiscus tea," she told them. "You buy the dried tea and steep it for a bit then you can drink it by itself or with a bit of sugar and a few drops of lemon juice. It's very good for you."

Rebecca took a sip and raised her eyebrows in surprise, liking its delicate flavour. "I like that Bucky, can we get some?" she asked.

He surprised the vendor by addressing him in Arabic while Amina beamed, still impressed that he knew the language. He bought a small package of tea, paying in cash and put it in the shopping bag that Rebecca had on the back of her wheelchair. They stopped at several other vendors of various nationalities and sampled some other things before arriving at a vegetable stand where Bucky picked out some fresh tomatoes, carrots and onions. As they were walking Bucky got a brief whiff of the Japanese cigarettes and looked around trying to see if the man who had watched their house was nearby but he didn't see him and didn't smell the smoke again.

After another hour they went through almost all of the market and were ready to leave when they heard some cries from a few stalls away. They heard calls for medical help and Tracey went over finding an elderly man unconscious on the ground. Kneeling beside him she checked his pulse and asked if anyone saw what happened. His wife said he clutched his arm then collapsed.

"Call 911 and tell them it's a probable heart attack," she said to his wife. "I'm a nurse and I'm going to begin CPR."

She made sure he was flat on his back, positioned the man's head to open his airway, then placed her hands over his chest and began pushing. After 30 compressions she stopped, gave the man two breaths and began the compressions again. Bucky watched Tracey calmly do what she could for the man. He could hear the sirens getting closer and told her help was coming. When the paramedics arrived they waited for her to finish her set then fastened an air bag to his face and began forcing air into him. Tracey told them the man had an erratic pulse when she felt it then it stopped and she began compressions within seconds. A fire truck arrived and several of the firemen came to take over compressions while the paramedics set up the AED. Once they had it connected and charged they stopped the compressions and pressed the button to restart his heart. It didn't work the first time and a fireman kept up the compressions while they waited for the AED to reset. They shocked him again and this time the paramedics were happy they had a regular heart beat. While they prepared to transport the man his wife came to Tracey and thanked her for saving her husband's life. Tracey was very kind to the woman and said she only did enough to keep him going until the paramedics arrived. Several others came by and complimented her. When the man was taken into the ambulance the crowd dispersed and Bucky looked at Tracey with pride.

"You were so calm," he said, hugging her. "I was impressed at how you took control."

"I didn't even have time to think," she replied. "My training just kicked in."

"I guess Bucky isn't the only hero around here," said Rebecca with a big grin.

There were no news crews that arrived and while many people thanked Tracey for giving the man CPR neither the paramedics nor the firemen talked to her to get her name or anything. It rubbed Bucky the wrong way and he stopped one of the firefighters before he returned to his unit.

"Doesn't she get some recognition for being first on scene and keeping him alive until they could take over?" he asked. "She was heroic."

"Sure, she absolutely was," said the firefighter. "I'll make sure to put her name in the report."

He took Tracey's name but Bucky was still bothered by it, that it didn't seem to be as big a deal as what he did. In his eyes what she did was just as important. Tracey told him it was alright but he talked about it most of the way home.

Chapter 10>>

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