#In the end I'm still gonna end up writing what ever feels natural but I feel bad knowing I'll probably bum someone out
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Me: I think I'll write this silly Poppy playtime and Eight Parent AU crossover fic cuz it's consuming my soul, but I won't put a ton of effort into it like My fnaf fic cuz that will take too long so I'll follow the game as closely as possible Me: and maybe rescue Dogday. . . .cuz I can
People reading the fic: Oh man why didn't you rescue Mommy! People reading the fic:I hope you rescure Catnap! Me:. . . . uuuuh. .. . .
#Disclaimer I am exageraterating a tad#it's been one person for Mommy and One person about Catnap#Glad they like it#But now I'm feeling pressured to figure out how to rescue Catnap when I had no intention of rescuing Catnap!#And if I'm gonna rescue Catnap Shouldn't I rescue Miss Delight?!#I know they're victims of the situation just like the player but still#In the end I'm still gonna end up writing what ever feels natural but I feel bad knowing I'll probably bum someone out
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love is the law, religion is taught — ryomen sukuna.
"And what does that make me, my lord?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. Sukuna looked at you again, his smirk returning but softer this time, almost wistful. "It makes you the only one who matters. Out of everyone, every woman in these lands. You are the only one that matters above them. Behind me.” And behind that, behind Hiromi. You whisper in your head.
GENRE: alternate universe - heian era;
WARNING/S: nsfw, angst, one sided romance, conflicted feelings, hurt/no comfort, unhappy marriage, forced parenthood, hurt, physical touch, character death, mourning, loneliness, pain, conflicted relationship, emotional distress, grief, toxic relationship, depiction of suicide, depiction of suicidal ideation, depiction of one-sided relationship, depiction of grief, depiction of complicated relationship, depiction of parenthood, depiction of canon related violence, depiction of loneliness, mention of grief, mention of illness, mention of loneliness, heian! sukuna, long suffering concubine! reader;
WORD COUNT: 20k words
NOTE: when i was writing this, i thought it wouldn't be this long. but when i ended up writing more and more, i just couldn't stop. i ended up writing this as a sort of prequel to the other woman's latter parts. if people are aware of me from other websites or just here, you know i write a lot. this 20k usually was my usual writing. but i feel like people like a lot of short stories. i'll post about that some time else. i'm gonna be sorry for breaking more of your hearts like this. the reason this took so long as me drafting multiple times. and then my exams. so, it just...this will be a read. anyway, i love you guys!!! thank you for your birthday wishes. see you later <3
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YOU COULD FEEL THE YEARS IN YOUR BONES. You had been Ryomen Sukuna’s concubine for nearly ten years, a role that once filled you with dread and uncertainty. Over time, however, the nature of your relationship shifted. Unlike the others who served him out of fear or obligation, you had managed to carve out a space for yourself in his world—one of strange but growing trust.
It wasn't love, at least not for you, but it was something. Ryomen Sukuna treated you differently from the others. He sought your company more often, and the violent edge in his voice seemed to soften when he addressed you.
What set you apart wasn’t just your demeanor or willingness to adapt—it was your face, the way you looked almost identical to Ryomen Hiromi, the only woman your husband Sukuna had ever loved.
At first, you didn’t know why he lingered in your presence or why his temper cooled when you were near. It was only after overhearing a conversation between two of his most trusted advisors that you realized the truth. You looked just like her—the woman whose memory still haunted him. You had become a ghost of his past, a stand-in for the love he had lost long ago.
As the years passed, you began to understand Sukuna in ways no one else could. He never spoke of Ryomen Hiromi to you, but in quiet moments, you saw the flicker of something softer in his gaze.
Perhaps he found comfort in your presence because you reminded him of her. Or maybe, in some twisted way, he had come to care for you—not as the woman you were, but as the reflection of someone long gone.
Even so, you knew where you stood. You were the favored concubine, yes, but the specter of Ryomen Hiromi loomed between you, casting a shadow over every fleeting moment of tenderness. You were not her, and you never would be. But in this cruel, tangled relationship, you had become the closest thing Sukuna allowed himself to care for.
You had long since come to terms with your place in Sukuna's world, understanding that his affection for you wasn’t truly yours. Still, it made life easier, gave you a strange sort of power in a place where others lived and died on his whims.
Once in a blue moon, sometimes, you both sat together for dinner. It was a rare occasion, that was for sure. Ryomen Sukuna often eats alone, served by his most loyal servant Uraume. But there were times when he would ask you to join him. It was often late at night, Sukuna didn't sleep well. You doubt he ever does.
As the sun set and the air turned cool that night, Uraume had come to your chambers and told you that Sukuna summoned you to his chambers to sup with him. You were surprised. But you immediately dressed with the help of your servants and as soon as the last of your satin ribbons were tied to your hair, you rushed out towards his chambers.
When you had arrived, the servants had been tense. It is usually like that when your lord Sukuna does not get what he wants. You apologized to them quietly, as quietly as possible for your lord husband not to hear. You would rather not have him do so. He does not like anyone, anything he owns lower themselves. You told them to leave, to go away. You would rather that it be you in that room alone with him. It would be easier.
It was one of those rare moments where he wasn’t looking to dominate or torment. Instead, he seemed pensive, sitting by the window, staring out at the horizon. Trays of food were scattered with luxurious food and luxurious ceramic tiles of alcohol. It was not for your husband. He does not need such sustenance.
It was for you, even with your small appetite. You could feel a bile rip through your throat. You purse your lips, walking inside the room and slowly lowering yourself, to bow. His crimson eyes flickered to you as you entered, and the smallest of smirks tugged at his lips.
“You're late, little one.” he said, his voice deep and teasing, though there was no real malice in it.
"I was making sure I looked presentable, my lord." you replied calmly, accustomed to his games. "I didn't think you'd appreciate rushing in disarray with your servant.”
He chuckled, low and dangerous, but you had learned to discern when that sound held genuine amusement. He urges you forward from your bowing position and you stand up, moving towards him and sitting on the silk pillow as gracefully as you could.
"You always did know how to play the part. Perhaps that's why I tolerate you more than the others."
You sat across from him, not too close, but not far enough to seem distant. "Or perhaps it's because I remind you of her."
At this, his expression shifted. His eyes darkened, and for a moment, you thought you had overstepped. But instead of lashing out, Sukuna leaned back in his chair, his gaze unwavering on you. You looked over the meal and started to plate for your husband, even if he does not eat it. And then yourself. You slowly moved your sleeve away, carefully as you took the alcoholic beverage and started pouring it upon silver cups, first for him and then on your own.
"You think you're clever, little one?" he said, his tone neutral, betraying nothing. "But tell me... do you believe that’s all you are to me? A ghost of someone who no longer exists?"
It was a question you had pondered many nights alone in your chambers, alone and cold, unable to sleep whatsoever. You wanted to believe that over the years, you had carved out a space of your own in his cold heart, but the truth was undeniable. You were Ryomen Hiromi’s echo, the closest thing he would allow himself to love again. But how much of you, the real you, did he see?
"I don’t pretend to know what goes on in your mind, my lord." you said carefully, holding his gaze. "But I know I am not her. And I know you don’t care for me the way you cared for her."
Silence hung heavy between you. Sukuna's eyes, burning with something unreadable, bore into yours before he spoke again, softer than usual. He uncharacteristically lets his hand move towards the table and slowly takes one of the silver cups full of sake and raises it to his lips. He downs it slowly, letting the cool smooth taste echoes on his throat.
"You're right, little one." he admitted, surprising you. "You're not her. You never will be. Best remember it, hm?"
His words were sharp, meant to cut, but they didn't sting the way they once might have. You were used to those words. And so you do not speak. You let him say what he does and slowly let yourself consume the warm flavorful broth.
Sukuna looks towards you once more, watching you eat some meat. Silence echoes through the room. Instead, they hung in the air like a truth neither of you could avoid. And yet, as he turned his gaze back toward the setting sun, his voice grew quieter.
"But you're the only one who's come close."
It wasn’t an admission of love or devotion—you already know that your lord Sukuna wasn’t capable of that, not anymore. You were used to it. And yet, even if it was something you were used to it — you were still pained by it. But it was the closest you would ever get to understanding his complicated feelings for you. It was all that was left in his pitch black heart that never belonged to Ryomen Hiromi. You swallowed the last of the meat.
"And what does that make me, my lord?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Sukuna looked at you again, his smirk returning but softer this time, almost wistful. "It makes you the only one who matters. Out of everyone, every woman in these lands. You are the only one that matters above them. Behind me.”
And behind that, behind Hiromi. You whisper in your head.
He rose from his seat, approaching you with the predatory grace that always reminded you of the monster he truly was. He cupped your chin, tilting your face up toward him, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin. You could feel your breath hitch hotly as his gaze burned your own. You purse your lips, trying to maintain control of yourself.
"But never forget, little one." Sukuna continued, his tone dropping. "You are here because I allow it. You may remind me of her, but you are still mine to control."
You held his gaze, unflinching. "I haven’t forgotten, my lord."
For a moment, the two of you remained like that for a moment. It was as though you were both locked in a silent struggle of power, emotion, and unspoken understanding. Even after ten years, it was just that way. Finally, Sukuna released you, stepping back as though the moment had never happened.
"Good." he said, turning away once more. "Now leave me for the night, little one. I’ve had enough of this sentimental nonsense for one night."
You nodded at him. You drank the last cup of alcohol and let the bitterness burn you. Soon after, you rose without a word, bowing slightly before you made your way to the door. Just before you left, you paused, glancing back at him one last time.
"I wish you a good night, my lord."
He didn’t respond, his attention already back on the horizon. But as you left, you couldn't help but wonder if somewhere, buried deep within him, there was more to his feelings than even he understood.
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THE PEOPLE OF HIDA VIEWED YOUR HUSBAND LIKE A GOD. They always have, for as long as you could remember. The grand hall of Ryomen Sukuna’s temple buzzed with the presence of those who had come from all corners of Hida.
The heavy doors swung open to let in petitioners, men and women alike, who approached with heads bowed low, their faces masked with fear or desperation. Some came seeking mercy, others with requests for blessings or favors only Sukuna could grant.
They dared not meet his eyes as they offered up their pleas, knowing that their fates rested on the whims of the man seated high upon the throne.
And there you sat, just below him, on a fine mahogany chair that had been made specifically for you, a symbol of your status within the temple. The carved wood was smooth beneath your fingers, but no amount of comfort could erase the tension simmering beneath your skin.
Sukuna's gaze swept across the crowd with indifference, his presence towering over all as his blood-streaked eyes flickered lazily between the petitioners. You could feel the immense weight of his power bearing down on the room, as though his very presence could crush anyone at will.
But what irked you the most wasn’t the groveling or the constant fear that filled this place. No, it was her.
Directly in front of you, standing tall in the center of the hall, was the statue of Ryomen Hiromi. The woman who had haunted you from the moment you became Sukuna's concubine. The resemblance between you and her was striking—uncannily so.
The cold, lifelike stone eyes stared straight ahead, almost as if they were judging you, just as she had judged countless others. The figure of Hiromi was positioned so that it faced not just Sukuna, but you as well, creating an eerie sense of being under constant scrutiny. Her hands, carved with impeccable precision, reached out in a serene pose, like a goddess looking down on humanity.
It was not just this one statue, either. There were others scattered throughout the temple—statues, paintings, carvings—each one depicting Hiromi in a different light. She was revered here, just as much as Sukuna himself.
The woman Sukuna loved most, the woman you could never truly become, was enshrined in every corner of his temple. Her image lingered like a ghost, haunting you, reminding you that no matter how close you sat to his throne, you would always be second to her.
Sukuna’s voice echoed in the chamber, deep and commanding, as he passed judgment on the next petitioner, his words casual as if human lives were merely tokens to him. You barely listened, too distracted by the sensation of Hiromi’s stone eyes watching you, bored at you with those haunting eyes..
You couldn’t escape her. Not here. Not ever.
Your eyes drifted from the petitioner at Sukuna's feet back to the statue, a chill crawling down your spine. It was too perfect. The way it captured her beauty, her serene expression, the very essence of what made her Ryomen Hiromi—everything that made her more than just a memory for Sukuna.
You wondered, in your darkest moments, whether Sukuna had commissioned these statues himself, making sure they were as accurate as possible, preserving every detail of the woman he loved more than life itself.
The thought gnawed at you.
The crowd shifted again, and you could hear the low murmurs of the people waiting for their turn to kneel before Sukuna. A faint breeze from the temple’s high windows stirred the air, and the faint sound of bells chimed in the distance.
And still, the statue stood, unwavering, staring at you with those lifeless eyes. It was as if Ryomen Hiromi had never left, as if she lingered between this world and the next, a permanent fixture in Sukuna’s heart, never allowing you to forget that you were only here because of her.
“Next.” Sukuna’s voice boomed, pulling you from your thoughts.
Another petitioner shuffled forward, trembling as they knelt. Sukuna watched them with a bored expression, waiting for them to speak.
You didn’t look at him. Instead, your gaze flickered back to the statue—always back to her. She was everywhere. No matter where you turned in this temple, in this life with Sukuna, Ryomen Hiromi was there.
Her presence was eternal, and it was driving you mad.
It wasn’t as if you truly hated Ryomen Hiromi. How could you hate someone you had never met, someone who existed only in the memories of others and in the cold, flawless statues that filled this temple? No, hatred wasn’t the right word. But her presence—her haunting, ever-present likeness—gnawed at you in ways that went deeper than resentment. It was painful.
Painful because every time you looked at her, it reminded you that you would never truly be seen for who you were. Sukuna’s gaze might fall on you often, but you knew the truth. He wasn’t looking at you—he was seeing her. You were a reflection, an echo of the only woman he had ever truly loved. And that knowledge burns inside you, slowly and constantly.
The way her statues were placed, almost reverent, made it clear just how important she was. To the people of this land, Ryomen Hiromi was no less a god than Sukuna himself. Her beauty, her grace, her presence—immortalized in stone—became a legend, a tale passed down from generation to generation. And you? You were simply the woman who bore her face, destined to be a stand-in for a love long lost.
You couldn’t escape it.
Even now, as you sat in that carefully crafted chair below Sukuna’s throne, the image of Hiromi loomed over you. Her delicate features seemed to accuse you, her eyes hollow but full of judgment. It was as if she were silently asking: Why are you here? Why are you in this temple, sitting at his feet, when you could never be me?
Your fingers tightened on the armrests, a subtle but instinctive reaction to the thoughts swirling in your mind. You knew it wasn’t logical to be angry at a statue—at a dead woman whose only crime was being loved by Sukuna—but the feeling still crept in. You had no reason to despise her, but the weight of constantly living in her shadow was suffocating.
Another plea for mercy echoed through the hall, but you barely registered it. Sukuna’s voice was deep, dismissive as he granted or denied requests with a wave of his hand. This was his world, and Hiromi was as much a part of it as you were. More, even. She had her place in his heart, in his temple, in the minds of the people who worshiped them both.
But where was your place? Were you always to be nothing more than a reflection, someone to remind him of what he had lost? And what pained you more was that even after nearly ten years by his side, you hadn’t found an answer to that question. Sukuna had grown accustomed to you, perhaps even fond of you, but you knew that in the deepest recesses of his heart, it was Hiromi’s memory that still held sway.
It hurt in ways you couldn’t explain.
You weren’t her. And no matter how long you stayed by Sukuna’s side, no matter how much you tried to understand him, to navigate the storm of his power and wrath, you could never be her.
A quiet sigh escaped your lips as you lowered your gaze, away from the statue, away from the memory that plagued you. The hall was filled with voices, but none of them reached you. Sukuna’s voice, sharp and dismissive, barely registered in your ears.
The weight of Hiromi’s existence pressed down on you, heavier than the stone statues that surrounded you, more oppressive than the walls of the temple that bore her likeness in every corner. For a moment, you allowed yourself to wonder—a dangerous, fleeting thought—what would it have been like if she had never existed?
If Ryomen Hiromi had never crossed Sukuna’s path, never claimed the part of his heart that was now lost to time, would his gaze fall upon you differently? Would he see you, truly, and not the pale reflection of the woman he had loved so deeply? Could you have been someone significant to him in your own right, not simply because of your resemblance to her?
The thought lingered, bittersweet, filling you with a longing you barely allowed yourself to acknowledge. It was tempting, imagining a world where Hiromi had never been. Where you, instead of living in her shadow, might have been the first to carve a place in Sukuna’s heart, the one to leave an indelible mark on his soul.
But it was a foolish thought, and you knew it.
Hiromi had shaped him. Her love—or perhaps the memory of her—had molded him into the man he was now. She wasn’t just a figure of the past. She was the cornerstone of this entire existence, the silent foundation upon which Sukuna had built his empire, his throne, his identity.
The cold stone likeness of her didn’t just haunt this temple—it haunted Sukuna’s very being. It influenced his every thought, his every action, even the way he looked at you.
You weren’t just living in her shadow. You were her shadow, a reflection of something he could never truly let go of. And no matter what you did, no matter how close you came to him, you would always be caught between the person you were and the ghost of Hiromi.
And the worst part? You couldn’t hate her. Not really.
You wanted to. In those quiet, agonizing moments when you felt Sukuna’s eyes on you, knowing he was searching for traces of her in your face, you wanted to hate Hiromi with all your being. But how could you? She had been everything to him. Her love had meant something so profound that even in death, she lingered, casting her long shadow over the living. Her presence was woven into the very fabric of Sukuna’s existence.
But more than that, you owed her everything. Without Hiromi, without the love that had marked Sukuna so deeply, would he have ever taken notice of you at all? Would he have seen something in your face, something in your eyes that reminded him of the one woman he had ever loved?
Without Hiromi, you might not even be here. Her memory had brought you into his life, kept you by his side for nearly ten years. The recognition that you shared her likeness had made you his favorite, the one concubine who had stayed when so many others had come and gone. In some twisted way, Hiromi had paved the path that led you to this place, to this seat below his throne, to the strange, fragile bond you now shared with him.
But living in her shadow—it was a torment all its own.
Every statue, every carving, every whispered prayer to her image reminded you that no matter how close you came to Sukuna, you were not her. And you never would be. The affection he might show you was born not out of love for you, but out of a love that had long since died with Hiromi. You were the echo of something that had ended, a reflection of a life he had lost.
It was a strange, agonizing paradox. Without Hiromi, you would have nothing, no connection to Sukuna at all. But because of her, you would also never have everything. You could never be the woman he truly loved, no matter how long you stayed at his side.
And so, you sat there, beneath Sukuna’s throne, as the statue of Hiromi looked down on you with cold, indifferent eyes, her presence an inescapable reminder of the role you played in his life.
A role you hadn’t chosen, but one you were bound to, for as long as Sukuna wished it.
You snap back to the present as Sukuna’s deep voice rumbles through the hall, breaking through your swirling thoughts. “What do you think?” he asks, his gaze shifting from the kneeling man before him to you. His expression is unreadable, cold and calculating, as always, though there’s an edge of curiosity in his tone.
You blink, focusing on the man who trembles at Sukuna’s feet, eyes downcast, waiting for his judgment. The hall, filled with the murmurs of the petitioners, goes quiet in anticipation.
“What is his crime?” you ask, your voice calm, though you feel the weight of Sukuna’s gaze on you.
“He stole, little one.” Sukuna replies, a hint of amusement creeping into his voice as if daring you to suggest otherwise. “From one of my temples.”
You sigh softly, leaning back in your chair, your eyes narrowing slightly as you assess the man. His clothes are tattered, his hands dirty and worn—clearly a sign of the hard times that have plagued the land recently. The famine had hit Hida hard this year. Crops had failed, and many of the people were barely surviving, struggling just to feed their families.
“The famine has been hard on all, my lord.” you say quietly, though there’s an edge of empathy in your words. You weren’t excusing the man, but you understood the desperation that drove people to do things they wouldn’t have otherwise done. Hunger was a cruel master, and you’d seen its effects firsthand in the villages.
“That does not mean he is entitled to steal, little one.” Sukuna counters, his tone sharp, though he doesn’t seem angry—more like he’s making a point. “There needs to be justice.”
You purse your lips, knowing Sukuna’s sense of justice could be harsh, final, and unyielding. He ruled with an iron fist, and mercy was not something he granted easily. But you also knew he valued your opinion, at least in his own little ways. After all, you were the one concubine whose voice he truly listened to.
“Then chain him to me, my lord.” you say, your words surprising even yourself. You sit up straighter, meeting Sukuna’s gaze with unwavering resolve. “Let this man serve me in the Vermillion hall. My private garden needs tending. Let him work under my watch so that he may learn a lesson. Let him toil in the hardship of life for his mistake, rather than meet more... final end.”
The man at Sukuna’s feet looks up, his eyes wide with shock, perhaps hope, though he dares not speak. It was almost rare for anyone to be heard speaking with such authority in this hall the way Ryomen Sukuna does.
It was rarer that your voice was heard with such a loud echo. The other woman speaks, they all must think. The rarest words from her lips. Mercy, the virtue of the woman she could never replace, echoing in the stone sight of her.
The hall remains silent, as if everyone is holding their breath, waiting for Sukuna’s response.
Sukuna’s eyes linger on you, studying you for a long moment. You can feel the weight of his power in his gaze, the way he considers your words, turning them over in his mind. He is not a man to grant mercy lightly, and you know the risk you’re taking by asking this of him.
But after nearly ten years by his side, you’ve come to understand how to navigate his moods, his whims, and his sense of order. You knew when to have him indulge you, even when it was not an occurrence you repeated frequently.
Finally, a slow smile curves at the corners of his mouth. It’s not a warm smile—it never is—but it’s a sign that he’s pleased. “Very well, little one.” he says, his voice carrying the authority of his decision. “Let him serve you in the Vermillion hall. He will tend your garden, as you wish. But if he steps out of line—if he falters, even once—you will bring him back to me. He shall meet his end in the hands of his lord. Do you understand?”
There is no mistaking the threat beneath his words. You nod, accepting his terms.
“Thank you, my lord.” you say softly, turning your gaze to the man who has been spared, for now. He looks up at you with a mix of relief and fear, clearly aware of how close he came to a far more brutal fate.
Sukuna leans back on his throne, watching you both, as if amused by the small victory you’ve won for the man. But you know better than to think Sukuna was softened. This was merely a moment of indulgence, granted to you because of the peculiar bond you shared.
As the guards move to take the man away, you return your attention to the grand statue of Ryomen Hiromi, standing in front of you, her stone eyes as cold and distant as ever.
In the shadow of the woman who had everything, you had won a small victory today. But the haunting presence of Hiromi lingered still, reminding you that no matter what you did, Sukuna’s heart would never truly belong to you. And no matter what – your kindness would never be as beloved by the people who revered the stone that was left.
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YOU ENJOYED THE PRIVILEGE OF PRIVACY. Every day, you enjoyed the distant life you had lived here in the Vermillion hall. The Vermillion hall had been a gift from Sukuna, presented to you on your fifth year in his temple.
It wasn’t grand in the way his own halls were, but it was yours. A quiet, secluded enclave within the sprawling temple grounds, removed from the constant presence of the other concubines and the weight of Hiromi’s looming statues.
In the years prior, you had only been given a selection of rooms within Sukuna’s own quarters, close enough for him to visit whenever he pleased. Though his visits were rare, those rooms had been a symbol of your availability to him, a reminder that you were under his thumb, always within reach.
But as time passed, and your bond with Sukuna evolved into something more complex than mere possession, he decided to give you something more. Vermillion hall became yours. It was a gesture that left the other concubines seething with jealousy.
They already despised how close you had become to Sukuna, how often he lingered by your side, and now they had another reason to resent you. You knew that their hatred ran deep, festered in the corridors of his temple, where whispers of favoritism and betrayal echoed in the dark.
To pacify them, and perhaps to create some distance between you and their hostility, Sukuna had given you the Vermillion Hall. It wasn’t a grand act of love, nor was it some romantic gesture. It was practical. The gift served to ease tensions, to quell your growing discomfort, and to offer you a reprieve from the suffocating dynamics of the temple’s inner court.
In Vermillion Hall, you had your own household. Your own space, away from the eyes that burned with envy. Your own garden, tended by servants who answered only to you. There were pleasantries there, comforts that softened the harshness of your life with Sukuna. The hall was peaceful, serene, and for the first time in years, you had a sense of autonomy, a place to call your own.
You were aware of what the gift truly meant. It wasn’t love, not even affection in the way one might hope. Sukuna had never cared in that way. His gestures, while grand, were always calculated.
Vermillion hall was an offering of peace, a way to keep you satisfied, pacified. It wasn’t an act of affection but of convenience. With your own residence, you were removed from the tensions of the other concubines. You were out of the way, kept at a distance while still under his control.
And yet, you were grateful. Despite knowing the reasons behind it, you cherished the hall because it afforded you something you hadn’t realized you craved so deeply—freedom.
You were far enough from the other concubines, from their petty schemes and cruel glares. Away from the prying, stone-cold eyes of Hiromi’s likeness, always watching you from every corner of the main temple. And, perhaps most importantly, you were away from Sukuna’s immediate reach.
Here, in your quiet refuge, you could breathe without constantly feeling the weight of his presence or his demands. The distance didn’t erase your bond with him—Sukuna could summon you whenever he wished, and you would always return—but it allowed you moments of solitude, moments to reflect and gather yourself.
In Vermillion Hall, you found a strange sort of peace. Away from the tempest of Sukuna’s world, you could finally be alone with your thoughts. And in that space, you realized how much you had craved this separation—how, even in your closeness to Sukuna, you had always yearned to be free from the shadow of both him and Hiromi.
The garden at Vermillion hall was your sanctuary. It had been from the moment you first stepped foot into it, surrounded by delicate vermillion petals, fragrant herbs, and the soft hum of nature’s presence.
Sukuna had forbidden the servants from tending to it, decreeing that it was yours alone to care for, a space untouched by others. It was a strange sort of gift—one that granted you solitude but also burdened you with its upkeep.
In the beginning, you had relished the challenge, pouring your time and energy into every plant, every blossom. The act of tending the garden gave you purpose, something to pour your hands into when everything else in your life felt dictated by Sukuna’s whims. It was an escape, a place where you could breathe and let your thoughts wander.
But as the years passed, you found it harder to keep up with. The garden grew wild, sprawling beyond what you could manage alone. The weight of maintaining it, along with the complexities of your life in Vermillion hall, began to overwhelm you. What was once your refuge now became a reminder of your isolation, each untended leaf and overgrown vine whispering of the loneliness you felt within these walls.
That was when Sukuna granted your request—begrudgingly, perhaps—and allowed you a servant. The man who came to you, your new gardener, was named Hironobu. His name meant “gentle abundance” and it seemed to suit him perfectly.
He was a quiet, unassuming figure, with a calm presence that filled the garden like a steady breeze. He wasn’t like the other servants, who always carried a quiet fear of Sukuna in their eyes. There was something different about Hironobu, a certain calm that put you at ease in a way you hadn’t expected.
At first, you barely spoke to him, unsure of how to navigate the strangeness of having someone else in your once-private space. But as days turned to weeks, and weeks to months, you began to find comfort in his presence. He tended to the garden with care, never overstepping, always leaving space for you to do what you wished. But slowly, you began to rely on him more and more. His hands, though calloused, were gentle with the plants, and you found yourself watching him sometimes, noticing the way he seemed to move with the rhythm of the earth.
Conversations began to bloom between the two of you, small at first—a comment about the soil, a shared observation about a plant’s growth. But over time, you began to talk about other things. Life. The temple. The world beyond its walls, which felt like a distant dream. Hironobu listened more than he spoke, his quiet presence a balm to your often lonely existence.
You found yourself drawn to him in ways you hadn’t anticipated. Not in the same way you were tied to Sukuna, but in something softer, something more human. Hironobu didn’t see you as a concubine or as someone living in the shadow of Hiromi. He saw you as you were—a person. A soul, just like him.
There was no pretense with him. No judgment. Just quiet understanding.
In the afternoons, you would find him in the garden, kneeling by the plants, his fingers brushing against the earth as if he were communicating with it. You would sit nearby, watching him work, feeling a peace you hadn’t known in years. It was a strange thing, this growing connection between the two of you.
You weren’t sure when it had started—perhaps from the very first time he smiled at you, or perhaps later, when you noticed that being with him felt different than with anyone else.
With Hironobu, the garden began to feel like a sanctuary again, not just from Sukuna or the other concubines, but from your own loneliness. The space that had once been yours alone became something shared, and in that sharing, something beautiful blossomed—a quiet companionship, a bond that grew in the shadow of the vermillion blossoms.
For the first time in a long while, you felt like you weren’t completely alone. Hironobu was there, steady and calm, tending to the garden as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And with each passing day, you found yourself growing closer to him, drawn to the gentle abundance of his presence.
One late afternoon, as the sun began to dip beyond the horizon, casting long shadows across the garden, you found yourself kneeling beside Hironobu. He was carefully pruning one of the flowering shrubs, his focus entirely on the delicate task. You watched him for a moment in silence, taking in the way his hands moved with precision, the soft rustle of leaves under his touch.
“You’ve done wonders with this place, Hironobu.” you finally said, your voice breaking the quiet. “I barely recognize it anymore. It feels… alive again.”
Hironobu glanced up, offering a small smile. “It was always alive, thanks to your good work, my lady. It just needed a little bit more care.”
You could feel warmth brush against your cheek as you nodded, brushing your fingers along the edge of a flower petal. “I couldn’t have managed it on my own. I’m grateful that you’re here.”
There was a moment of quiet between you, the air filled with the soft hum of the garden’s life. Hironobu set down his tools and wiped his hands on a cloth, then looked at you with an expression that was both kind and thoughtful.
“You speak as if you’re alone here, my lady.” he said quietly. “But you’re not. Not anymore.”
His words settled between you, a truth that you hadn’t fully realized until now. The loneliness that had once pressed down on you had lifted, little by little, ever since he arrived.
“I suppose… I’ve gotten used to being alone.” you admitted, your voice softer than before. “It’s been that way for so long. Even when I was with lord Sukuna, surrounded by people, it was always the same. The others… they hated me. And lady Hiromi……” You hesitated, glancing at the distant temple where her statues stood in silent vigil. “She’s everywhere.”
Hironobu’s gaze followed yours, but he said nothing for a moment. Instead, he sat back on his heels and watched you with a gentle patience that you had come to value. You could tell that he had some fondness for Hiromi.
Who wouldn’t? His parents must have told her of the good deeds of Ryomen Hiromi. You were but a nobody and Hiromi, she was immortal to the people, to the land. You were an outsider to these people.
“Do you resent lady Hiromi, my lady?” he asked quietly, his tone free of judgment.
You shook your head, though the truth of it weighed heavily on you. “No. I can’t. How could I? Lord Sukuna loved her. And she is kind and generous, she was genuine, I am sure. But I…..I’m… I’m only here because I remind him of her.”
Hironobu’s brow furrowed slightly, his eyes thoughtful. “And yet, he chose to keep you close. To give you this hall, this garden. That’s not something he does for everyone, my lady. You are important to our lord.”
“Maybe.” You sighed, the weight of your situation pressing down on you once more. “But it’s not love. I doubt it was. Not like it was with lady Hiromi.”
There was a long pause as you both sat in the quiet of the garden, the only sound the soft breeze moving through the leaves.
“Do you wish it was, my lady?” Hironobu asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
You turned to look at him, surprised by the question. His eyes were steady, sincere. It wasn’t the first time you’d wondered that yourself. Would it be easier if Sukuna truly loved you? If you weren’t just a replacement for a woman who was no longer here?
But as you looked into Hironobu’s eyes, the answer felt more complicated than it ever had before.
“I don’t know, Hironobu.” you admitted, your voice quiet. “Maybe at first, I did. But now… I’m not sure it matters.”
Hironobu’s expression softened, and he nodded as if he understood. “Love doesn’t always come in the way we expect it to, my lady.”
You met his gaze, feeling a strange warmth bloom in your chest. There was something about the way he said it, the way his words felt more like an invitation than a simple observation.
“I suppose not.” you murmured.
A comfortable silence fell between you again, and after a few moments, Hironobu stood and extended a hand to help you up. You took it, feeling the warmth of his palm against yours, and for a moment, you stood there together in the quiet of the garden.
“Shall we finish up for today?” he asked, his voice gentle.
You nodded, but as you turned to leave, you couldn’t help but glance back at him. “Hironobu?”
He paused, looking at you curiously. “Yes, my lady?”
“I don’t think I could have done this without you.” you said, your voice soft but sincere. “Not just the garden. Everything.”
A small, genuine smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “You’re not alone anymore, my lady. I hope you may remember that.”
You held his gaze for a moment longer before nodding, a quiet understanding passing between you. As you walked back toward the hall, you couldn’t help but feel that something had shifted. Not just in the garden, but between you and Hironobu as well. The distance that once separated you felt smaller, and for the first time in a long while, you felt a glimmer of hope.
Perhaps, in the gentle abundance of his presence, you had found something you hadn’t been looking for. Something that, unlike the garden, wouldn’t fade with time.
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YOU STARTED TO ENJOY GARDENING WITH SOMEONE. As the days passed in the garden, you and Hironobu grew closer. His laughter filled the spaces that had long been silent, echoing in the air like a sweet melody that danced among the blossoms.
Each shared moment became a thread weaving into the fabric of your existence, bringing warmth and light into your life. The garden, once a sanctuary of solitude and melancholy, transformed into a vibrant tapestry of color and life under his gentle care.
You found yourself eagerly anticipating his visits, counting down the hours until he would arrive, a basket in hand, ready to tend to the plants that flourished under his skilled touch.
The sunlight seemed to brighten when he stepped through the gates of the vermilion hall, illuminating not just the petals of the flowers but your heart as well. Each time he smiled, it felt as though the world around you bloomed anew, and you began to notice the small joys that had previously gone unnoticed—the way the sun filtered through the leaves, the gentle rustle of the wind, and the songs of birds fluttering above.
Conversations flowed easily between you, often starting with the mundane aspects of gardening—discussing the best ways to prune the roses or debating which herbs to plant next. But as you both shared stories and laughter, the dialogue deepened, revealing layers of your souls. Hironobu spoke of his childhood, his dreams of becoming a skilled gardener, and the joy he found in nurturing life. You opened up about your life in the temple, the challenges you faced as Sukuna’s concubine, and the bittersweet longing you felt for freedom.
“Do you remember the first time you showed me how to care for the orchids?” you asked one day, recalling the way he had patiently guided your hands, teaching you the delicate art of nurturing the fragile blooms.
Hironobu chuckled, a warm, rich sound that resonated in your chest. “You were a quick learner. I think you were more excited about getting your hands dirty than the flowers themselves!”
You smiled at the memory, the image of dirt smudged across your palms and the way his eyes had sparkled with amusement. “Maybe I just liked spending time with you,” you replied, your heart racing at your own boldness.
His gaze softened, and you could see a flicker of something deeper in his eyes—something that hinted at unspoken feelings. “I like spending time with you too. You make this place feel alive. It’s more than just the plants; it’s the way you see beauty in everything, even in the shadows.”
His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, filling the hollow spaces within your heart that had long been empty. You found yourself blushing, the warmth of his gaze igniting a spark of hope in your chest. In those moments, the weight of your circumstances seemed to lift, if only for a while. You felt cherished, seen, and—dare you think it—truly happy.
Yet, as the days turned into weeks, you were reminded of the solitude that lingered beneath this newfound joy. While Hironobu brought a lightness to your life, there was still an underlying ache, a reminder that this connection, as precious as it felt, existed in a world defined by shadows.
One afternoon, as you and Hironobu knelt side by side in the garden, tending to a patch of vibrant marigolds, he paused, his hands resting in the soil. “You know,” he began thoughtfully, “it’s strange how life brings us together in unexpected ways. I never imagined I would find such joy in tending a garden, especially one that belongs to someone as remarkable as you.”
You glanced at him, your heart swelling at the sincerity in his voice. “It’s not just the garden. You’ve brought joy into my life, Hironobu. I can’t remember the last time I felt this… alive.”
His eyes met yours, and in that moment, the world outside the garden faded away. The towering walls of the temple, the looming presence of Sukuna, and the whispers of the other concubines—all of it seemed to vanish, leaving just the two of you, surrounded by the fragrant blooms and the warmth of the sun.
“I wish I could give you more than this, my lady.” Hironobu said softly, his expression earnest. “You deserve to be happy, to feel free. This garden is a refuge, but I want you to feel that way outside of it too.”
Your heart fluttered at his words, the weight of longing and affection intertwining within you. “I… I don’t know what the future holds for me, but right now, I’m grateful for this moment with you, Hironobu.”
One evening, as the sun set in a blaze of oranges and purples, you were gathering a basket of freshly picked herbs when Hironobu approached, his expression unusually serious.
“May I speak with you for a moment?” he asked, his tone almost hesitant.
You set the basket down and nodded, your heart fluttering with curiosity. “Of course. What’s on your mind?”
He took a deep breath, his hands clasped together in front of him. “I want to apologize for what I’m about to say, my lady.” he started, his voice steady but laced with a hint of nervousness. “I know it may change things between us.”
Your brow furrowed in confusion. “Hironobu, what do you mean?”
He shifted his weight, glancing away as if searching for the right words. “I’ve grown fond of you—more than I intended to. I can no longer pretend that it’s just admiration or friendship.” He paused, his gaze finally meeting yours, filled with an earnestness that made your heart race. “I’m in love with you, my lady.”
The world seemed to pause at his confession. The weight of his words hung in the air between you, and your breath caught in your throat. You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came.
“I know you are married to lord Sukuna, my lady.” he continued, his voice low and filled with regret. “And I never intended to overstep my bounds. But I had to tell you, because hiding it would only cause me more pain and I would not be fair to you, my lady.”
You took a step back, your mind racing. “Hironobu, I—”
“Please, my lady.” he interrupted gently, raising a hand to stop you. “I don’t expect anything from you. I just needed you to know how I feel. You deserve to know that you’ve brought joy into my life, more than I could ever have imagined. And if you cannot return those feelings, I will understand. I just… I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore.”
The sincerity in his eyes made your heart ache. You felt a mixture of emotions—surprise, fear, and an undeniable warmth that surged through you at his words.
“I never wanted to put you in this position, Hironobu.” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “I’ve enjoyed our time together so much, but I… I’m married to lord Sukuna. You know how he is.”
“Of course, my lady.” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “But that doesn’t change how I feel. I just thought… perhaps there was a chance you might feel the same way.”
You swallowed hard, the reality of your situation crashing down on you like a wave. Sukuna was a force of nature, and while your relationship with him was complex, it was rooted in years of shared history—of loyalty and duty.
But here was Hironobu, his honesty and vulnerability laid bare before you. He was a breath of fresh air in your life, and the connection you shared felt like a balm to the wounds of your past.
“I—” you began, searching for the right words. “You make me feel seen, Hironobu. Happy. But this isn’t simple. I can’t just—”
“I don’t want you to feel pressured, my lady.” he said, stepping closer, concern etched on his features. “I expect nothing. I only wanted to be honest about my feelings. And take care of you, my lady. You deserve that much.”
You took a deep breath, the weight of your emotions almost overwhelming. “I appreciate your honesty. It means a lot to me, truly. But I can’t deny that this is all very complicated. I never intended for this to happen.”
“I understand, my lady.” he replied, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and sadness. “Whatever happens, I want you to know that I’ll be here for you. I care about you, and I want to help you in any way I can. I will be your servant, for as long as I live.”
In that moment, something shifted between you. The air felt charged with unspoken possibilities, and though the path ahead was uncertain, the connection you had with Hironobu felt undeniable. You might not have the answers now, but there was a warmth in the garden that promised a new beginning.
“I see.” you said softly, your heart pounding.
“My lady, I adore you. I always will.” Hironobu said, giving you a small, reassuring smile. “I’ll always be here, tending to the garden—and to you.”
As he turned to leave, you watched him go, your heart racing with a mixture of fear and excitement. You couldn’t help but wonder what this new chapter might hold, not just for you, but for both of you. In the garden’s gentle embrace, you felt a sense of hope begin to bloom, fragile yet persistent.
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YOU THINK YOU’VE NEVER BEEN THE PERSON TO PRAY. But in the past ten years, you found yourself finding relief in prayer. It reminds you of your mother’s piety, of your father’s mumbling whispers to the gods, your brothers and sisters sitting beside you.
You haven’t seen them in ten years. But you wish they were well. And even if you don’t see them anymore, this gives you relief.
You knelt in the inner sanctum of the temple, bowing your head in prayer before the statue of Bishamon. Your lips moved silently, asking for a clear mind, but no matter how hard you prayed, you could not banish the thought from your head—Hironobu, your loyal gardener, had confessed his love to you.
It had taken you by surprise. You were Sukuna's concubine. You could not be with Hironobu. And yet, he made you happy in a way you hadn’t known was possible, and your heart was torn. To tell Sukuna was out of the question. If he knew, he could kill Hironobu without hesitation. You shivered at the thought.
The flickering light from the temple’s lanterns cast shadows on the walls, their soft glow doing little to soothe the turmoil raging inside you. How could something so pure—a love untainted by power and possession—be so wrong? How could you feel joy when the very thought of it put Hironobu’s life in peril?
Your mind returned to that moment, the way his eyes had softened when he spoke his feelings, the tenderness in his voice. He had always been gentle, always there with a quiet presence, nurturing the garden you so often found peace in. And now, he wants to nurture you. But you were Sukuna’s, bound to him by fear and something you could never quite define as love. Duty, perhaps. A twisted form of devotion. But love? That was not something you could claim to feel for the man who held you in his iron grip.
A soft breeze swept through the temple, brushing against your skin like a whisper, and you closed your eyes, imagining for a moment what life might be like if things were different. If you could run. If you could be free. But such thoughts were dangerous, reckless even, and you knew you would never act on them.
Just then, you heard footsteps behind you, a familiar presence that made your breath catch. Sukuna.
"I didn’t know you prayed," his voice cut through the silence like a blade, deep and commanding, bringing you back to the harsh reality of your situation.
Your heart raced as you slowly rose from your knees, turning to face him. He stood in the dim light, towering over you as always, his gaze sharp and penetrating.
"I did not take you for a pious woman," Sukuna continued, his eyes narrowing slightly, scrutinizing you.
"Piety is a comfort, my lord," you replied quietly, your voice steady despite the storm in your chest. "It eases the soul to have someone that listens."
Sukuna’s eyes flicked toward the statue of Bishamon for a moment before returning to you. "Hm," he muttered, unimpressed, though his gaze lingered on you longer than usual. "Then do you pray to me?"
You blinked, taken aback by the question. "What do you mean, my lord?"
Sukuna stepped closer, his presence overwhelming, his eyes dark and intense. "Am I not a god?" he asked, his tone low and dangerous. "Your god?"
For a moment, your breath faltered, but then you gathered yourself. You had to be careful. You had to choose your words wisely. A soft, almost bitter smile tugged at your lips. "My lord," you whispered, meeting his gaze with a quiet defiance, "do I not worship you already? Does my entire existence, my suffering, my love for you—" your voice grew quieter, but sharper, "—is it not enough worship for you as my god?"
Sukuna’s expression darkened, his jaw tightening, but he said nothing. His gaze remained locked on yours, and for the first time in your life, you saw something close to uncertainty flicker in his eyes.
But you did not feel victorious. You felt hollow. Because no matter what you said, no matter how sharp your words were, you were still bound to him. Still trapped.
And Hironobu? He would never be yours.
The silence between you and Sukuna stretched on, thick with tension. His gaze remained locked on you, unyielding, as though searching for something deeper within you—some trace of weakness, some sign of betrayal. But you stood tall, your heart pounding in your chest. You couldn’t let him see your turmoil, couldn’t let him suspect that anyone had stirred your heart, least of all someone as lowly as a gardener.
Sukuna’s lips curled into a smirk, though there was no amusement in his eyes. “Careful with your tongue, woman,” he said softly, but the threat in his voice was unmistakable. “There are limits to even my patience.”
You bowed your head slightly, a gesture of submission. “Of course, my lord. Forgive me if my words displeased you.”
He watched you for a moment longer, his gaze piercing through your very soul, before turning away, his crimson robes trailing behind him as he walked toward the temple’s entrance. For a moment, you allowed yourself to breathe, thinking he was leaving, that the conversation had come to an end.
But then he stopped.
“You seem… distant, little one.” Sukuna remarked, his voice casual but laced with suspicion. He didn’t turn to face you, but you could feel his eyes on you, even without seeing them. “Something troubles you.”
Your heart froze. Did he know? Could he sense the conflict within you?
“No, my lord.” you replied quickly, too quickly, the lie on your lips before you could think. “I am merely tired.”
“Tired? This does not seem to be you, little one.” he repeated, his tone dripping with disbelief. Slowly, he turned to face you, and the way his eyes bore into yours made your pulse quicken. “I don’t believe you.”
Your throat tightened as you scrambled for something, anything, to say. “I—”
Before you could finish, Sukuna took a step closer, closing the distance between you in an instant. His hand shot out, grabbing your chin with a roughness that made you wince, forcing you to meet his gaze.
“I am not someone who tolerates deceit, little one.” he growled, his face mere inches from yours. “If something weighs on your mind, you will tell me. Now.”
The air around you felt suffocating, your mind racing with thoughts of Hironobu. You couldn’t tell him. You couldn’t. The truth would mean death—for Hironobu, perhaps for you as well. But Sukuna’s grip tightened, his impatience growing, and you knew you had to give him something.
“I am troubled, my lord. you admitted, your voice shaking slightly. “But it is not something that concerns you, my lord.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but still suspicious. “Everything about you concerns me. You belong to me.”
You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to hold his gaze. “It is only… the weight of my life, my place here. Nothing more.”
Sukuna’s eyes narrowed, his grip on your chin loosening slightly. “Your place is exactly where I put you, little one.” he said coldly, his fingers trailing down your neck in a way that made your skin crawl. “Do not forget that.”
“I haven’t, my lord. You must not have to worry.” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
For a moment, he seemed to study you, searching your face for signs of rebellion, of disobedience. But then, slowly, he released you, taking a step back. You wonder if it was relief or it was disappointment you truly feel — knowing that he does not ask, that he lets you go. You purse your lips in a tight line. But you know that he does not wish to notice it.
“Good.” he muttered, turning away once more. “Do not forget who holds your life in their hands.”
With that, he strode toward the exit, his presence leaving the room like a dark cloud finally lifting. You stood there, frozen, the echoes of his words reverberating through your mind. He didn’t know. Not yet.
But how long could you keep this secret? How long before Sukuna’s suspicions became too great, before he began digging for the truth? You had already slipped too close to the edge today, and it terrified you to think of how much closer you might come tomorrow.
And Hironobu… how could you ever look at him again, knowing the danger your feelings for him brought? Knowing that Sukuna’s wrath could fall upon him at any moment?
A tear slipped down your cheek, but you quickly wiped it away. There was no room for weakness. Not here. Not in Sukuna’s world. But in the quiet recesses of your heart, where Sukuna could not reach, the thought of Hironobu lingered—like a fleeting ray of light in a dark, unyielding storm.
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YOU HAD EXCUSED YOURSELF FROM DINNER EARLY. And you could not take too much food when you were in Sukuna’s chambers. That had concerned Sukuna, even if he did not want to show it. You were a human being after all. And if anything was wrong with you, it concerns Sukuna. You were his. You were a part of him.
And if a part of him was unwell, he must ensure its settled. Ryomen Sukuna had not meant to stay long when he visited Vermillion hall, your residence. He had come for something trivial, something that now seemed insignificant as his eyes fell upon you.
He stood in the shadows, watching from a distance, concealed by the thick trees lining the garden. You didn’t notice him; your attention was entirely on that servant, that Hironobu. He could feel the air punched out of his chest.
The way you smiled at him, laughed softly at something he said—it was a smile Sukuna had never seen on your face before. Genuine, unguarded, free. Happy. In the truest sense.
That wretched low life Hironobu knelt beside you, tending to the flowers, his hands moving carefully as he spoke to you. There was no fear in his eyes, no hesitation. No, Sukuna could understand it. It was the tenderness he had when he looked at Hiromi. He looked at you as if you were the only thing that mattered in the world.It was love. It was adoration. It was devotion. Sukuna’s chest tightened painfully, and his fists clenched at his sides.
What was this feeling? A tug, something sharp and bitter gnawing at him, growing stronger the longer he watched you with Hironobu. He wasn’t used to this—this strange, almost foreign sensation. He knew anger, jealousy, possession. But this… this felt different. More unsettling
He wonders now, if he’s ever seen that smile on your face when you look at him. If you’ve ever truly been happy in the grace of his existence. But somehow, within the depths of what remains in his heart, there was pain. There was jealousy. There was anguish. There was grief. And he didn’t know why. He didn’t know why he felt like this. His heart had long died. Died with his beloved Hiromi and yet….
His face contorted into a scowl, his jaw tightening. He turned sharply on his heel, his robes whipping through the air as he left without a word. The sight of you with Hironobu left an acid taste in his mouth, and though he hated to admit it, it bothered him in a way he could not explain.
That next morning, he summoned you to break his fast with him—even rarer than supping with him.
When you arrived, the room was dimly lit from the shading silk, the atmosphere thick with something you couldn’t quite place. Ryomen Sukuna sat at the head of the long table, his scarlet eyes dark, his expression unreadable.
You felt a cold knot in your stomach as you approached him, the air between you tense and charged. You were not hungry. You could not feel any pleasure knowing that he was staring at you that way.
“My lord, I greet you with fervent devotion.” you said softly, bowing slightly before taking your place at the table. He didn’t respond immediately, simply watching you with that same piercing gaze that always made you feel exposed.
The silence stretched on, oppressive and heavy, before he finally spoke. “I visited Vermillion Hall last night.”
Your heart skipped a beat. The way he said it, the deliberate pause—it sent a wave of dread washing over you. “I… I was unaware of your visit, my lord.” you replied carefully, trying to keep your voice steady. “You must forgive me if I had not noticed.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, a cruel smile playing on his lips. “Clearly.”
You shifted in your seat, sensing the trap closing in around you. There was a tension in Sukuna that you had rarely seen, something simmering beneath the surface. You remained in your position, feeling a bile stuck on the edge of your throat.
You could feel the sweat fervent on your palm as you gripped your kimono tenderly, hoping he would not notice the tension and fear in you.
“I saw you, little one.” he continued, his tone low and almost too calm. “With that lowly thief of a servant...what was his name....ah yes, Hironobu.”
Your blood ran cold at his words.
You knew what your husband was like.
You had made a mistake, you knew that well.
“I saw how happy you were with him, little one.” Sukuna said, his voice tightening ever so slightly, though his expression remained controlled. “Smiling, laughing, as if there were no worries in the world. It’s a wonder I’ve never seen you look that way with me.”
His words stung, even though you knew better than to show it. You lowered your gaze, knowing you were walking a very fine line. You knew him too well. He considered you a part of him, the god he is.
And everything, it has to be about him. Your existence was taught to worship him. Loving him was the law, even if he would not give it back. And you could not have the same, you know that.
“I—he was simply tending to the garden, my lord. We merely… spoke as we often do. It was a mere passing laugh and enjoyment.”
“Is that all?” Sukuna asked, his voice taking on a dangerous edge. “Because from where I stood, it seemed more than that, little one.”
You swallowed hard, your hands trembling slightly as you clenched them under the table. You couldn’t lie, not to him. But the truth—how could you explain the way you felt with Hironobu without damaging yourself?
“My lord, I beg for your understanding.” you began, carefully choosing your words. “Hironobu is kind and loyal to me, to you. He tends to the garden and offers his company when I walk, to ensure that he could care for you in caring for me. Nothing more, my lord.”
Sukuna’s eyes flickered with something dark and unreadable. “Kindness?” he sneered, leaning back in his chair. “Is that what makes you smile like that? Is that what makes you laugh so freely? How easy are you, little one? Do you offer such a thing to everyone, is it necessary, little one?”
“My lord—”
You opened your mouth to respond, but his voice cut through the air again, sharper this time. “Do you think I am blind? That I cannot see what’s happening under my own roof?”
Your heart pounded in your chest as you looked up at him, meeting his furious gaze. He wasn’t just angry. No, there was something deeper, something more dangerous. Hurt. Betrayal. You wonder why he feels this way. He had it clear even ten years ago that his heart had died. And that he was a god.
Because how could that be? Ryomen Sukuna was not someone to feel such things, to be vulnerable to them. And yet, as he stared at you, the fury in his scarlet eyes was laced with something raw.
“Answer me, little one.” he demanded, his voice low and threatening. “Is he more to you than just a gardener?”
The truth was clawing at your throat, begging to be let out, but you knew what it would mean. Hironobu would die. Sukuna would never allow it, would never tolerate even the hint of disobedience or disloyalty from you. And yet… Could you lie to him again?
“My lord,he is nothing but a servant tied to me to grace your glory.” you whispered, your voice trembling. “You know…you know I would never betray you, my lord.”
He watched you for a moment. It was then where Sukuna stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor as he rose to his full, imposing height. He stalked toward you, his scarlet eyes blazing, and you felt a cold sweat break across your skin.
“If I find out otherwise, little one.” he growled, his hand grabbing your chin, tilting your face up to his. “Hironobu’s kindness won’t be enough to save him. And you—” his voice dropped to a menacing whisper. “—you will know exactly what it means to displease me. You know me the best out of those fools in the concubine hall, do you not? You must know what I am willing to do.”
His grip on your chin tightened for a moment before he let you go, leaving you breathless, terrified, and more trapped than ever. You tried to calm yourself, you know you cannot show more. You cannot appear weak, not like this.
Sukuna’s wrath hung over you like a storm, and as he turned and walked away, you were left with the suffocating knowledge that your secret was on the verge of unraveling.
As Sukuna stormed out of the room, the sliding door nearly breaking along the path he left behind him, you remained frozen in your seat. The air was thick with his lingering presence, the scent of incense mixing with the oppressive tension that still hung over you. Your hands, resting in your lap, trembled uncontrollably. You felt the weight of Sukuna’s warning, his threat echoing in your mind.
Hironobu.
The thought of him twisted your heart painfully. You had always known the danger that came with even the slightest hint of affection for another man, but Sukuna had never been this close to the truth before. His suspicion was like a sword dangling over both your heads, ready to strike at any moment.
You rose from the table slowly, your legs unsteady beneath you. The silence of the grand dining hall was suffocating, every step you took feeling heavier than the last. You could barely think, barely breathe. All you could do was replay Sukuna’s words in your mind. The anger, the possessiveness—and something else. The hurt.
Could it be that Sukuna, the mighty king of curses, had actually been wounded by what he saw? You had always believed that you were just another possession to him, another piece in his vast collection of power and control. But tonight, there had been something deeper in his voice, something almost vulnerable.
And that terrified you even more.
When you reached the privacy of your chambers, you collapsed onto the bed, your body trembling from the weight of the evening. Your heart raced as you tried to steady your breath, but it was no use. Every time you close your eyes, you see Hironobu’s face, his warm, gentle smile—and Sukuna’s cold, furious gaze.
What were you going to do? You couldn’t abandon Hironobu. The thought of him being killed because of you, because of a love you couldn’t deny, was unbearable. And yet, if Sukuna found out, there would be no mercy. Not for either of you.
A soft knock at your door pulled you from your thoughts, and you quickly sat up, brushing away the stray tears that had escaped. “You may enter.” you called, trying to keep your voice steady.
The door creaked open, and to your surprise, it was Hironobu who stepped inside. His expression was calm, as it always was, but there was a softness in his eyes that made your chest tighten. Tension passes through you as much as fear does. You cover yourself with the blankets, as though to shield you from the vulnerability you feel for him.
“You shouldn’t be here, Hironobu.” you whispered, panic rising in your throat. “It is not allowed. This is not…..It’s too dangerous.”
“I know, my lady.” Hironobu replied quietly, closing the door behind him. He crossed the room in a few quick strides and knelt beside you, his hand reaching out to gently take yours. “But I had to see you. I heard that lord Sukuna summoned you and everyone was whispering about him. He was mad, and I was worried that he could harm you, my lady.”
You looked into his eyes, the warmth and sincerity in them a stark contrast to the cold, terrifying presence of Sukuna. For a brief moment, being with Hironobu felt like a balm to the storm raging in your heart. But the danger was too real, too imminent.
“My lord will not hurt me. You must know this.” You wonder if you were saying the right words. Ryomen Sukuna has hurt you. He always has, even if he does not lay a hand on you. “You must trust that.”
“My lady, still—”
“Hironobu.” you began, your voice breaking slightly. “Lord Sukuna saw us in the garden the other day.”
Hironobu’s face paled, but he didn’t let go of your hand. “What did my lord say?”
You shook your head, feeling tears prick at your eyes again. “He’s warned me. He said he saw how happy I was with you, how I smiled while we gardened today. He asked if you were more than just a gardener and servant to me.”
Hironobu’s hand tightened around yours. “And what did you tell him, my lady?”
“I told him I would never betray him. That we are only enjoying the garden together.” you whispered, the weight of your words heavy on your tongue. “But I don’t know how much longer I can keep him at bay to keep you safe. He’s watching us, Hironobu. I do not want him to hurt you, over your kindness and friendship and I fear for you—”
“I won’t let him hurt you, my lady.” Hironobu interrupted, his voice firm but gentle. “I’ll leave if I have to. I won’t risk your life.”
“No, no.” you said quickly, gripping his hand tighter. “You can’t leave. That would only make him more suspicious. You are bound to me as a servant. My lord will be suspicious.”
Tears finally spilled over, and you tried to wipe them away, but Hironobu cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing your cheeks softly. “We’ll figure this out, my lady. Do not be afraid.” he said softly, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. “We have to be careful, even in our friendship, but I won’t let him take you away from me.”
The intensity of his words made your heart ache, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to lean into his touch, to forget the danger, if only for a fleeting second. Being with Hironobu felt like a sanctuary, a place where you could be free from Sukuna’s suffocating grip.
But as much as you wanted to stay in this moment, you knew it couldn’t last. Ryomen Sukuna’s shadow loomed over everything, and no matter how careful you were, it was only a matter of time before he would find out the truth. One way or another, even if you had rejected Hironobu, Sukuna will end up being angry. And he would kill him. He would kill him and that would break you.
“I’m afraid, Hironobu.” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up. Not having a life of my own.”
He leaned forward, resting his forehead against yours. “You’re stronger than you think, my lady.” he murmured. “We’ll find a way, even if it means we have to run.”
You shook your head slightly. “He would find us. You know he would.”
Hironobu didn’t argue. He knew the truth as well as you did. Ryomen Sukuna’s reach was vast, his power unmatched. There was no escaping him, not really.
But for now, in the quiet of your chambers, with Hironobu beside you, you allowed yourself to cling to the hope that somehow, some way, you could protect the fragile love you had found. Even if the world around you was crumbling.
The door creaked again, but before you could react, a cold voice sliced through the air.
“I told you, little one.” Sukuna’s voice was low, deadly, as he stepped out of the shadows, his eyes burning with fury, “there are limits to my patience.”
Your heart stopped.
You felt frozen in place.
He had seen everything.
The room felt as though it had been plunged into icy darkness the moment Sukuna stepped forward. His presence filled the air, suffocating, his crimson gaze searing into both you and Hironobu. The warmth you had felt moments before vanished, replaced by a cold, gnawing dread that clawed at your throat.
You stood up quickly, your heart hammering in your chest. "My lord—"
Sukuna’s eyes flicked to you, and the fury in them made your blood run cold. His face was a mask of controlled rage, but there was a darkness beneath the surface, threatening to spill over.
“I warned you, little one.” he growled, his voice low and dangerous, each word like a blade slicing through the air. His attention shifted to Hironobu, who had risen to his feet but made no move to defend himself. There was a strange calm in Hironobu’s expression, but you could see the tension in his body, the readiness for whatever was to come.
“My lord, please.” you begged, stepping forward, your voice trembling. “Please don’t hurt him. He had done nothing wrong.”
Sukuna’s eyes snapped back to you, narrowing. “Do you think your pleas mean anything to me now?” His voice dripped with contempt. “You’ve lied to me. You betrayed me. And for what? A mere gardener?”
Tears welled up in your eyes, but you forced yourself to stay calm, to keep speaking even though your heart was breaking with fear. “He didn’t—he didn’t do anything wrong, my lord. This is my fault.”
Sukuna’s lips twisted into a sneer. “Your fault? Oh, I know it’s your fault. You allowed this to happen. You let him think he could take what is mine.”
Your breath hitched. The possessiveness in the god Ryomen Sukuna echoed in his voice was suffocating, and you knew he was on the edge of doing something irreversible. Desperation clawed at you as you stepped closer, falling to your knees before him.
“Please, my lord. Please. This is not….” you whispered, bowing your head, your hands trembling as you reached out, barely daring to touch the hem of his robe. “I beg you—don’t hurt him. He… he only cares for me. It’s not his fault.”
Sukuna stared down at you, his expression unreadable. For a moment, there was silence—an unbearable, suffocating silence that made your chest tighten with fear. You couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him, terrified of what you might see in his eyes.
“I should kill him where he stands,little one.” Sukuna said softly, though his voice was filled with venom. “I should make you watch as I tear him apart, so you understand the price of defiance.”
You gasped, your heart shattering at the thought. “No! Please, my lord, no!”
But before you could continue, Sukuna moved faster than you could react, his hand shooting out and grabbing Hironobu by the throat. The sound of Hironobu’s breath choking in his lungs was like a knife to your heart.
“My lord, please. Please, please—Sukuna!” you screamed, rushing to your feet, your hands trembling as you reached for him. “Please, no! I’ll do anything—anything! Just don’t kill him!”
Sukuna’s grip tightened, his gaze never leaving Hironobu’s face. “Anything?” he repeated, his voice cold and mocking. “What makes you think you have anything left to offer me, after this?”
Tears streamed down your face as you fell to your knees once more, your voice breaking. “I’ll take whatever you impose upon me, my lord—I’ll never speak to him again! Or any one else I swear to you, my lord! Just… please, don’t take his life. It’s my fault. I should have known better. I’ll do anything you ask, my lord. Just spare his life. He had done nothing wrong.”
Sukuna’s grip on Hironobu’s throat loosened slightly, but his eyes remained locked on you, watching your every movement, every tear that fell from your eyes. His lips curled into a cruel smile, but there was no warmth, no mercy in it. He was enjoying this, owning you.
“Is that what you think will save him?” Sukuna asked, his tone soft, dangerous. “Your submission? Your devotion? Little one, I own you. I do not give your submission. You give it willingly. You know that.”
You nodded frantically, your voice a desperate whisper. “Yes… yes, my lord. But I swear to you. I swear, my lord. I’ll submit to you in every way. I won’t resist, I won’t fight. I would continue to be devoted to you, only you. Just spare him, please.”
Ryomen Sukuna’s gaze flickered between you and Hironobu, his hand still wrapped around the gardener’s throat. The tension in the room was unbearable, and you could barely breathe as you waited for his decision. You feel like you were going to collapse, as you stopped breathing waiting for him to say anything.
For what felt like an eternity, Sukuna said nothing. The silence was deafening, the weight of his power crushing you under its force. You knew that he could kill Hironobu in an instant, with a single flick of his hand. And yet… there was something holding him back.
Finally, Sukuna’s fingers released their hold on Hironobu, and he stepped back, letting the man fall to his knees, gasping for breath. But the danger hadn’t passed. Sukuna’s gaze was still fixed on you, dark and dangerous.
“Get out of my sight.” Sukuna snarled at Hironobu. “If I see you near her again, I’ll tear you apart without hesitation. And there will be no more mercy.”
Hironobu, though clearly shaken, managed to stand, casting a glance at you, his eyes filled with both relief and sorrow. You gave him a small, trembling nod, urging him to leave while he still could. Without a word, he turned and disappeared through the door.
The moment he was gone, Ryomen Sukuna’s attention snapped back to you, and the full weight of his fury descended upon you.
“Don’t think for a moment that this is over, little one.” he said, his voice low and menacing. “You think I’ll just forget this? That I’ll let you off with a warning?”
You looked up at him, your body trembling. “I know… I know you won’t, my lord.” you whispered. “I’ll accept whatever punishment you see fit. Just… please…”
“Please?” he mocked, leaning down so that his face was level with yours. “You think you can still make requests of me after what I saw today?”
You swallowed hard, your throat dry. “I beg your mercy.”
Sukuna’s lips twisted into a cruel smile, and he reached out, tilting your chin up so that you were forced to meet his gaze. “Mercy, huh.” he repeated, his voice soft, but laced with malice. “You think you deserve mercy after betraying me?”
You shook your head slightly, tears still streaming down your face. “No… I don’t. But Hironobu—he didn’t deserve to die for my mistake.”
For a moment, Sukuna simply stared at you, his eyes burning with a mixture of rage and something darker, something possessive. Then, he released you, standing up straight once more.
“You will never see him again. Never again. And not anyone.” he ordered coldly. “You will stay at my side when asked where you belong. Know your place. And if you ever defy me again, I won’t hesitate to kill him—and you.”
You nodded, your heart breaking as you whispered, “Yes, my lord.”
══════════════════
YOU HADN’T TALKED IN A WHILE. Somehow you think you had forgotten what your voice sounds like. Silence has embraced you, as much as the darkness of the once vibrant Vermillion hall.
After that fateful night, everything changed. You isolated yourself in your chambers, the once-vibrant world of your garden now forbidden territory. Hironobu had vanished, leaving only a painful absence that lingered like a wound that refused to heal.
And there were whispers from the other halls of the temple that Ryomen Sukuna had killed him. You had expected it more or less. But it did not make it any easier. You wept in the silence of your halls.
And you had refused to eat, refused to change your clothes or wash yourself. Days blurred into one another, and the weight of your choices crushed you beneath their unbearable load.
Sukuna did not come to you. He did not summon you to his side. For a time, it felt as though you had become invisible to him, a ghost haunting the halls of the palace. At first, the silence seemed like a blessing; a reprieve from his suffocating presence, from his cruel words and piercing gaze. But as the days wore on, it began to gnaw at you. The solitude was maddening.
The garden that had once been your sanctuary became an unbearable reminder of what you had lost. You couldn’t bear to see the flowers Hironobu had so lovingly tended, the very space where you had felt fleeting moments of happiness. The very thought of stepping outside filled you with dread. You had no desire to face the world, not like this, not without him.
You were trapped—trapped between the suffocating control of Sukuna and the hollow, aching void left by Hironobu’s absence. Every breath you took felt heavier than the last, until even breathing felt like a burden you could no longer bear.
For a time, you thought it would be better to die.
The thought came slowly at first, creeping in like a shadow at the edge of your mind. But the more you dwelled in your isolation, the more it seemed like a mercy—a release from the endless torment of your existence. You had lost everything that mattered. The love you had found with Hironobu was gone, stolen from you by Sukuna’s wrath. And Ryomen Sukuna… he had broken you. His control, his possessiveness, his cruelty had shattered whatever was left of your spirit.
One night, the darkness in your mind swallowed you whole, and you couldn’t fight it any longer.
You had waited until the moon was high, the Vermillion Hall silent. You like to think that Sukuna had ordered everyone to leave you to your loneliness. But it was too late at night. No one came to your chambers anymore. No one would stop you. With shaking hands, you found a length of silk, soft and delicate, and tied it to the ceiling beam.
The precious gold and vermillion silk had been a gift from Ryomen Sukuna long ago. It was the very name of the hall he had gifted you. One of the hardest silks to find and make. It was a symbol of his wealth, his power. And he gifted it to you, a small echo of ownership to you. How ironic, you thought, that it would be the instrument of your final escape.
Tears blurred your vision as you fashioned the knot, your breath coming in ragged gasps. You stood on the edge, your heart pounding in your chest, and for a moment, you hesitated. But the pain in your heart, the unbearable ache of everything you had lost, pushed you forward.
In the cold stillness of that moment, you stepped off the edge.
You woke in a haze, your body weak and aching, the dim light of dawn filtering through the curtains. You weren’t dead. Somehow, impossibly, you were still here. Confusion clouded your mind as you tried to move, but your limbs feel heavy, your throat raw.
And then you saw him.
You weren’t sure the first time.
But you let yourself look again.
Ryomen Sukuna was sitting beside your bed, his presence unmistakable even in the pale morning light. His expression was unreadable, his dark crimson eyes fixed on you with a strange intensity. For a long moment, neither of you spoke. You couldn’t speak well anyway. Your throat hurts.
You had never seen him like this before—silent, unmoving, almost still as a statue. His gaze roamed over you, lingering on the dark bruises around your neck, the evidence of your desperate attempt to escape.
“Why?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous, but there was something else there too—something you couldn’t quite place.
You turned your head away from him, shame and sorrow overwhelming you. You force yourself to speak, even if it hurts. “Because… I can’t live like this anymore, my lord.” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “I’ve lost everything.”
Sukuna’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of something passing over his face. “Everything? Do you think I would allow you to take your life without my permission?”
A pained bitter laugh escaped your lips, though it hurt to do so. “I can’t even die on my own terms?”
Sukuna leaned forward, his hand gripping the edge of the bed with barely controlled rage. “You think death would be an escape from me?” he hissed. “You belong to me, even in death, little one. Running away, it will not save you from me.”
Tears burned at the corners of your eyes, but you couldn’t hold them back any longer. “I belong to no one!” you cried, the words tumbling out in a flood of pain. “Not anymore. Not after what you’ve taken from me.”
For a moment, Sukuna was silent, his expression dark and unreadable. Then, unexpectedly, his voice softened, though it remained cold. “You’re a fool.”
You turned to face him, your eyes red and swollen. “Why? Because I dared to want something else? Because I dared to love someone else? Even as a friend? My lord, I suffered for your sake. Being devoted to you like it is a law. It was…it was just a friend. A friend. And I cannot even have them. What am I to you, my lord? More than…more than someone who suffers worshiping you.”
He stared at you, his gaze penetrating, but he didn’t answer immediately. His fingers brushed against the bruised skin of your neck, and you flinched, but he didn’t pull away. There was a strange, almost possessive tenderness in his touch.
“You think this makes you free?” Sukuna murmured, his voice low. “You’re more mine now than you ever were before, little one.”
You shuddered, his words striking deep. “Why?” you whispered, barely able to hold back the sob in your throat. “Why do you care?”
Sukuna’s eyes burned with an intensity that made you tremble. “Because you’re mine, little one.” he said, his voice a dangerous whisper. “And I do not let go of what is mine so easily.”
There was no warmth in his words, no comfort. But for the first time, you saw something raw in his eyes—something that looked dangerously close to vulnerability. You swallowed hard, your throat aching from both the bruises and the tears.
“Then why did you come?”
Sukuna’s expression shifted ever so slightly, and for a brief moment, you saw a flicker of something in his eyes—something like regret, though he would never admit it. You know that too well. Ten years of marriage to this cruel soul, this cursed man turned god — you would never hear those words of comfort. Not even if you asked.
“Because I won’t let you die, little one.” he said, his voice steady but quieter than you had ever heard it. “Not like this.”
You stared at him, your heart aching with too many conflicting emotions to name. In that moment, you realized something. You were trapped, not just by Sukuna’s power, but by the strange, twisted bond that tied you to him. He would never let you go. Not in life, not in death.
And that thought was more terrifying than anything else.
══════════════════
YOU COULDN’T HELP BUT STARE AT HIM. You weren’t fully recovered from your injuries just yet, but the healers had let you return to your daily life. You had just finished attending to your lord Sukuna in the audience hall. You stopped as he appeared before you, as you changed into more leisure clothing.
And you were unsure what he was saying to you. But the weight of Sukuna's words hung heavy in the air, his gaze as piercing as ever as he stood before you, his expression unreadable. He was not giving you anything, but orders. And you’re curious. As much as you were surprised.
“You will take care of the child, little one.” he said, his tone brooking no argument.
Your breath caught in your throat. “A child? I know nothing about children, my lord.”
Sukuna’s crimson eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of amusement in the corner of his lips. “You will learn.”
For a moment, you stared at him, searching his face for any sign of the usual cruelty, but there was something different this time. This wasn’t a command born purely from spite or possessiveness. It felt heavier, more deliberate, as if he had considered this for a long time. You felt the familiar helplessness rise within you, the sense that you were powerless to refuse him.
“I… I will do as you ask, my lord.” you whispered, defeated. The words felt hollow, but they were the only ones you could manage. Sukuna merely nodded, his expression hard, before turning and leaving the room.
Days passed, and the dread settled deep in your bones as you waited for the child to arrive. You didn’t know what to expect, but Sukuna’s commands were absolute. There was no running from this.
And then, one morning, the child was brought to your chambers.
You stood at the door, frozen, as the small figure stepped forward. Your breath hitched in your chest as you looked down at the little girl before you. Her features were delicate, her long hair falling softly over her shoulders. She couldn’t have been more than five or six years old, but there was something far older in her gaze.
The child looked up at you, her eyes startlingly familiar—crimson, like Sukuna’s. They stared into you with a haunting intensity that made your heart skip a beat. But it wasn’t just Sukuna’s eyes that made you pause. No, there was something else, something that chilled you to your core.
The girl’s face, though youthful and innocent, bore the unmistakable likeness of someone you thought you’d never see again.
Ryomen Hiromi.
Your heart clenched painfully, and the room seemed to spin for a moment. It was impossible, and yet… the girl standing before you had Hiromi’s face—her soft features, her kind eyes, but mixed with the piercing gaze of Sukuna. You’ve seen enough of her statues all around the temple palace that you’re too certain.
You swallowed hard, struggling to comprehend what you were seeing. Your chest felt tight as memories of Hiromi flooded your mind, of the woman you had once known, the one who had been so important to Sukuna.
Ryomen Sukuna entered the room behind the child, his presence like a storm cloud looming over you both. He regarded you with cold detachment, though there was something in his gaze that suggested this was not a simple matter for him either.
“This child…..” Sukuna began, his voice calm but commanding. “is Hiromi’s daughter. The child she lost long ago.”
You stared at him, shock rippling through you. “Hiromi’s… child?”
Sukuna nodded. “I found her soul.” he explained, his voice low and steady. “It was not easy, but with the help of a… trusted friend, I was able to bring her back. Her body grew anew, and now, she is here. Alive. For me to keep, as her father.”
Your mind raced, struggling to grasp what he was saying. Sukuna had brought the child back from the dead—had found her soul and, through some dark means, restored her. And now, this little girl, this child with Sukuna’s eyes and Hiromi’s face, stood before you.
And to be her father? Not only that, but to force you to be a mother. To raise her, knowing how much the ghost of her mother haunts you already. You do not know what to do. You could feel your lips still reflect a gaping hole, wide open in shock.
“Why me?” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Why have you given her to me? Her mother’s kin still lives, my lord. Would they not want to know—”
Sukuna’s gaze darkened, his eyes narrowing slightly. “It does not matter what they want. You will raise her, little one.” he said simply. “You will care for her as if she were your own.”
You took a step back, overwhelmed by the weight of his demand. “But I don’t know how to care for a child, my lord I—”
“You will learn. You are not half–witted, aren’t you?” Sukuna interrupted, his voice sharp. “There is no other choice. I have willed it. And you shall follow it.”
Your lips parted, but no words came out. You wanted to argue, to refuse, but you knew it was futile. There was no escaping Sukuna’s will. He had given you this child, and there was no turning back now.
The girl stood quietly between the two of you, her small hands clasped in front of her, watching the exchange with an unnerving calmness for someone her age. Her eyes—her father’s eyes—bore into you, as if she already knew more than you did, as if she carried the weight of her past life with her. Her mother’s face haunted you already. Why? Why must you be haunted like this?
“This was Hiromi’s child. And I cherish her.” Sukuna said again, more softly this time, as if the words held a deeper significance for him. “Now, she is mine. Mine own daughter. You will raise her for me.”
You could only nod, the enormity of it all crashing down on you like a tidal wave. Sukuna’s presence was suffocating, but the child’s gaze was what unsettled you the most. It was as if Hiromi’s spirit lingered within her, a ghostly reminder of the life Sukuna had shared with her, of a woman who had meant more to him than perhaps you ever could.
And now, you were tasked with caring for the last piece of Hiromi that remained in this world—a child born from tragedy, resurrected by Sukuna’s dark power.
“What is her name?”
He stops for a moment.
“Chiharu.” He says in response. “Ryomen Chiharu.”
“Very well, my lord. I will… do as you ask, my lord. I shall care for your child.” you whispered, your voice trembling as you looked down at the little girl. She met your gaze with those unnerving eyes, and you felt a strange chill creep up your spine.
Sukuna lingered for a moment longer, his gaze flicking between you and the child before turning to leave. As he walked away, his parting words echoed in your mind.
“Do not fail me in this.”
Days turned into weeks as you adjusted to the new rhythm of life with Chiharu, the little girl now under your care. At first, it felt surreal to be responsible for someone so precious yet so fragile, a living reminder of a past life you could barely comprehend. But as time passed, the weight of your circumstances began to feel lighter, replaced by a sense of purpose you hadn’t expected to find.
Young Chiharu was a curious child, with a spirit that seemed undaunted by the complexities of her existence. She often wandered the halls of the palace, her footsteps soft against the cold stone floors, exploring every corner with wide-eyed wonder. It was in those moments that you found yourself drawn to her, your heart softening as she chartered away, her laughter ringing like music in the otherwise somber atmosphere of the palace.
Every evening, you would sit together in the garden in the Vermillion hall—the one place you had once avoided. Underneath the lush foliage, you would share stories, and slowly, you learned more about her.
Chiharu would speak of her dreams, her favorite flowers, and the little things that made her smile. She spoke of animals she wished to have, tales she had heard of distant lands, and the kindness she hoped to find in a world that had been cruel to her before.
As you listened to her, you found yourself revealing bits of your own life, your own fears and desires. With each passing day, the bond between you grew stronger, entwining like the vines in the garden. You shared laughter and quiet moments, and you began to feel a warmth blossom in your heart—a sense of family you had thought lost to you forever.
It was during one of these serene afternoons that Chiharu turned to you, her bright scarlet eyes glinting in the sunlight. “Mama.” she said softly, her small hand reaching for yours.
The word felt foreign, yet sweet on her lips. Her mother was someone that she will never get to know again. You knew were not her mother, you knew that too well. But you felt a swell of warmth in your chest at the sound, as if she had bridged a gap that had long remained unfilled. You were not born to be a mother, you knew you would never be one. And yet, in her eyes — you were. You were born to be her mother.
“Yes, my sweet little flower?” you replied, your heart fluttering at the connection that had formed between you.
“Why did lord Sukuna name me Chiharu?” she asked, her gaze steady and curious.
You paused, contemplating how to answer her question. “Chiharu means a thousand springs, little flower.” you explained gently. “It’s a beautiful name, one that speaks of new beginnings, renewal, and growth.”
The little girl tilted her head, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. “But why did he choose that name for me?”
Your heart ached at the thought of Sukuna’s motivations. “I believe he saw something special in you. Perhaps he wanted to honor your connection to your past, to lady Hiromi. You are her child, Chiharu. And in a way, you are also a part of your lord father.”
“But you are my mother.” You hear little Chiharu whisper.
You did not know what to say.
You try to recover from her words.
You smile, for her sake, you think.
But you smiled for your sake too.
“We are both your mother.” You whispered back to her, putting her stray hair against the back of her ear. “But I am the one here at this moment, little flower.”
You watch her eyes brighten at the thought. “Truly?”
“Truly.” You smiled wider at her.
“What about my father?”
“Hm, what about my lord, little flower?”
Chiharu’s brow furrowed. “Do you think he loves me?”
The question caught you off guard. “I know he cares for you. That’s what I believe. In his own way, he has love.” But none for me.
Her small face lit up with a smile, though it was tinged with innocence and uncertainty. “I want to make him proud.”
A lump formed in your throat at her words. “You already make me proud, sweet flower. And that is what matters most.”
The connection between you and the young girl continued to deepen, woven through shared moments and quiet revelations. You discovered that Chiharu had a talent for painting, her little hands creating vibrant images that brought life to the entirety of the Vermillion hall. And you could not help but find joy in such revelations.
You encouraged her to explore her creativity, and soon, the once-dim walls of your home were adorned with her colorful drawings, depicting flowers, animals, and fantastical creatures. Even if the servants were concerned, you waved such words away. The Vermillion hall looked brighter with the scarlet flowers she drew everywhere.
Ryomen Sukuna would occasionally visit, his presence like a thunderstorm that cast shadows over your peaceful existence. When he did, Chiharu would run to him, her bright scarlet eyes sparkling with delight.
Despite the tension that accompanied his visits, you could see that he had a soft spot for her—a fleeting warmth that illuminated his otherwise cold demeanor. He adored this young girl, more than you know. He had given her such warmth more than anyone you had ever seen.
One evening, as dusk settled over the Vermillion hall, Ryomen Chiharu presented one of her paintings to Sukuna, her little hands trembling with excitement. “Look, lord Sukuna!” she exclaimed, holding up a vibrant depiction of a cherry blossom tree, the one standing in the middle of your never–ending gardens. “It’s for you!”
Sukuna studied the painting, his expression inscrutable, but you could see the flicker of something in his eyes. Perhaps pride, perhaps surprise. “You’ve done well, little blossom.” he said, his tone low and steady. “You had captured the lady’s cherry blossom with exquisite likeness.”
The child beamed at his praise, her cheeks flushed with joy. “Do you like it?”
“It is… acceptable, little blossom.” he replied, and though the words were blunt, there was a hint of approval lingering in his gaze. “I am certain that you will make more.”
You had wished that this was your life.
That you live forever in this moment.
But you knew better than to wish for that.
As the night deepened and the shadows in the grand hall stretched longer, Sukuna rose from his seat, his presence overwhelming as always. You called for Chiharu, who hesitated, her tiny face scrunching up in a pout. She clung to you, reluctant to leave, her voice soft, "I don’t want to go. My lord doesn’t come often anymore… I want to tell him about my day."
You knelt down, brushing your fingers through her hair and smiling gently. "He’ll come tomorrow, just like he promised, little flower." you reassured her, though a small part of you doubted the certainty in your words. She needed that hope, even if it felt fragile.
With one last glance toward Sukuna, Chiharu allowed herself to be led away by the servants, her footsteps fading down the hall. Silence settled between you and Sukuna, thick and awkward at first. He didn’t look at you immediately, instead gazing out into the night through the open windows, as if lost in thought.
“You take good care of her, little one.” Sukuna finally said, his tone gruff but softer than you expected. It was strange hearing thanks from him—it sounded unnatural coming from the King of Curses, yet there was sincerity in the rough edges of his words. "For that… I thank you."
You blinked, the weight of his gratitude sinking in. It felt strange, almost surreal. Sukuna, of all people, expressing appreciation. You inclined your head, accepting it quietly. "It’s nothing, my lord. She deserves the best care."
The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable this time, though. Instead, it felt like a mutual acknowledgment of the one thing you shared—a fondness for Chiharu.
You’ll never love me. you thought, the truth of it sitting heavy in your heart. But you didn’t need to say it aloud. You already knew. Still, the small moments like these, where his walls slipped just enough for you to catch a glimpse of something more, were what you held onto. You treasured whatever you could get, however fleeting.
Sukuna’s gaze finally met yours. It was sharp, piercing as always, but there was something softer lingering beneath his usual coldness. "I’ll come tomorrow. Like I promised."
And for tonight, that was enough.
After he departed, you drank a little.
It was better to mourn what could not be early.
When Chiharu returned, well bathed and dressed for the night, the two of you sat together beneath the cherry blossom tree in the garden. She had to dry her hair before she could get some rest. Her small hands clutching the other painting she had made tightly.
“Do you think he really liked it?” she asked, her voice soft.
You smiled gently at her, cupping her face in your hands. “I believe he did. He may not show it, but he cares for you in his own way. You are a light in his life, little flower.”
Her eyes sparkled with hope, and for a moment, you felt a sense of unity in your small family, a connection that defied the darkness surrounding you.
As the petals fell around you like confetti, you realized that despite the chaos of your circumstances, you had created a sanctuary for both yourself and Chiharu—one filled with laughter, art, and the promise of new beginnings.
And in those moments, as the sun dipped below the horizon, you dared to believe that maybe, just maybe, you could carve out a piece of happiness amidst the shadows.
══════════════════
IT WAS JUST ANOTHER NIGHT. But it was still something that caused you grievance. As night fell and the palace was shrouded in silence, you found yourself restless, wandering the dimly lit halls, your thoughts heavy with the weight of your circumstances.
Chiharu slept peacefully in her little room, the faint glow of moonlight spilling through the window, casting soft shadows on her innocent face. You paused to watch her, a smile tugging at your lips, but it was quickly overshadowed by the familiar ache in your chest.
The truth was inescapable: no matter how much joy Ryomen Chiharu brought into your life, the shadow of Hiromi loomed over you like a specter. You couldn’t shake the feeling that everything she represented was a constant reminder of your own insignificance in Sukuna's world.
Hiromi had been the one to hold Sukuna's love, the one whose memory seemed to linger in every corner of the palace. She was the woman who had given him a child—a child who was now the light of his life, while you remained in the dark, clinging to scraps of his attention. It was a bitter thought that twisted in your mind, gnawing at your heart.
As you lay in bed, staring up at the intricately woven patterns on the ceiling, you couldn’t help but compare yourself to Hiromi. She had everything: his love, his devotion, a child who would carry a piece of her with her always. And what did you have? Nothing but the remnants of Sukuna’s affection, which felt more like an obligation than anything else.
You turned onto your side, burying your face in the pillow, trying to drown out the thoughts that haunted you. But the more you tried, the louder they became. You could still hear the echoes of his voice from earlier, the way he had looked at Chiharu with an intensity that made your heart clench.
He was a monster, but he was her father—someone who had chosen to resurrect her from the depths of despair. He had given her a life filled with warmth, while you were left with the remnants of a hollow existence.
“Hiromi has everything in my lord Sukuna.” you whispered into the darkness, your voice trembling. “A dead woman, and I have nothing.” Tears slipped from your eyes, soaking the fabric of the pillow. “She gave him a child, love, and he keeps it. And nothing of me.”
You couldn’t understand why it hurt so much. You had wanted to be close to Sukuna, to carve out a space in his heart that felt like home, but every time you looked at Chiharu, you were reminded of your failure. You were the one who existed in the shadows, the one who couldn’t compete with the memory of a woman long gone.
You closed your eyes, squeezing out the tears that felt like a dam breaking within you. Each drop felt like a piece of your heart spilling out onto the floor, a tangible reminder of your torment. You were grateful for Chiharu, but the bittersweet reality of your situation consumed you.
After what felt like hours of battling your own thoughts, you finally rose from your bed and made your way to the garden. The night air was cool against your skin, and you could hear the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze. As you stepped into the moonlight, you were enveloped in a quiet stillness, yet it did little to ease your turmoil.
You found yourself standing beneath the cherry blossom tree, its delicate petals fluttering like whispers in the wind. It was a beautiful sight, but it only deepened the ache in your chest. You remembered how Chiharu’s eyes had sparkled with excitement when she painted that tree, how her laughter had filled the air like music.
But even as you admired its beauty, you couldn’t escape the lingering shadow of Hiromi. “Why do you haunt me?” you murmured, your voice breaking as you gazed up at the stars. “Why can’t I escape your memory?”
You sank to your knees beneath the tree, your fingers brushing against the cool earth. “I don’t want to compete with you.” you whispered, your heart aching with the weight of your confession. “I just want to be enough… for him, for Chiharu.”
The wind picked up, rustling the leaves above you, and in that moment, it felt as though the world held its breath. You could almost hear Hiromi’s laughter, see her warm smile—a gentle reminder of the life she had once lived.
A tear rolled down your cheek, and you let it fall, feeling the weight of your grief and jealousy wash over you. You had tried so hard to be strong, to forge a bond with Chiharu, but the reality of your situation loomed like a dark cloud, threatening to engulf you.
As you knelt there, surrounded by the whispers of the night, you could feel Sukuna’s presence looming in the back of your mind. He was a force of nature, a tempest that left destruction in its wake, and you were caught in the storm.
“Will I ever matter to you?” you asked softly, the question lingering in the cool night air. The silence answered you, an empty echo of your unfulfilled desires.
The moonlight bathed the garden in a soft glow, but no matter how beautiful it was, the ache in your heart remained. You rose to your feet, wiping the tears from your face, knowing that you had to keep moving forward—for Chiharu’s sake, if not your own.
Tomorrow would bring new challenges, and you would face them with the strength you found in your love for the little girl who had unexpectedly entered your life. But tonight, in the shadow of a woman you could never compete with, you allowed yourself to grieve—grieve for what could never be, for the love that felt so far out of reach.
As you made your way back to your chambers, the weight of Hiromi’s legacy still pressed on your heart, but you clung to the hope that perhaps, one day, you could carve your own place in this world—one that belonged to you, and to Chiharu.
══════════════════
YOU WERE EXHAUSTED FROM THE WORK ALL DAY. But as the lord summoned you, you were inclined to attend to him. That is just how it was. It has been two years now, since Hironobu, since Chiharu had come to live with you.
And a lot had since changed with the way you and Sukuna existed together. Perhaps, it is what it is. This is all that is left. You think you would like to be content with that.
The evening was cloaked in a haze of amber light as you and Sukuna sat across from each other in the dimly lit chambers, the air thick with tension. A selection of fine spirits lay on the table between you, remnants of a night that had spiraled into a blur of laughter and inebriation. But the laughter had faded, leaving behind a bitter residue that clung to your heart.
You raise your glass, your hand slightly unsteady as you downed another shot, the liquid fire coursing down your throat. It was supposed to be a moment of camaraderie, an attempt to bridge the growing chasm between you. Instead, it felt like a catalyst, igniting the frustrations that had been building within you.
Sukuna watched you with a bemused expression, but there was a glint in his eyes—something predatory, something that made your heart race. Fueled by the alcohol and the raw emotion coursing through you, you slammed your glass down on the table, the sound echoing in the silence.
"You took everything I have!" you slur drunkenly, your voice breaking as the words tumbled out. "I gave you everything I had, and I am miserable because of it!"
Sukuna’s brows furrowed, and for a moment, the playful smirk slipped from his face, replaced by a flicker of confusion. But you pressed on, the anger and despair and somehow bitter laughter mingling in a toxic blend that fueled your fury.
"You made me miserable with you! The one shot of joy I have in my life—someone who could care for me—and you take him away from me? What have I done to you to make me suffer like this, my lord?"
The room seemed to spin, the walls closing in around you as the weight of your words settled heavily in the air. The tears that had been threatening to spill finally broke free, cascading down your cheeks as you fought against the sorrow that threatened to engulf you.
"I regret you, sometimes! Everything of you, I regret!" you cried, the confession tearing from your lips like a wounded animal. A laugh escapes you. “Ah, I am driven mad. I thought….I thought to be content but somehow, I kept thinking and thinking. The questions of what if I had chosen some other path.”
Sukuna’s expression hardened, his eyes narrowing as he took in your words. You could see the tumult of emotions playing across his face—anger, frustration, maybe even hurt. But he didn’t speak, and the silence hung heavy between you.
“You think this is easy for me?” he finally said, his voice low and dangerous. “You think I wanted to hurt you?”
You shook your head, your heart pounding in your chest. “You have no idea what it’s like! To live in the shadow of someone who came before me! To feel like I’m constantly competing with a ghost!”
The bitterness of your words filled the room, and you could see the flicker of something deep within him. A flicker of regret? Anger? It was hard to tell. What could there be left between two people who don’t talk? What could be left between two people who don’t understand each other well, and yet pretend they do?
“You think I don’t suffer too?” he challenged, his voice rising little by little. “You think I don’t care about you?”
You paused, the anger momentarily dissipating as you searched his face for any hint of sincerity. But all you saw was the monster—the god, the force of nature that had swept into your life and turned everything upside down.
“Then why do you make me feel like this?” you whispered, the vulnerability in your voice cutting through the tension. “Why can’t you just let me be happy? With Hironobu… with Chiharu… with anyone?”
A shadow crossed Sukuna’s face, and for a moment, it felt like you had struck a chord. But he quickly masked it, his expression turning cold once more. “Hironobu is nothing to me. He is weak, a distraction.”
“That ‘distraction’ makes me happy!” you yelled, frustration spilling over once more. “He cares for me in a way you never could! He makes me feel like I matter!”
Sukuna’s gaze hardened, but beneath that facade, you could see the conflict churning. You took a step forward, your heart racing. “I don’t want to be your pawn anymore. I don’t want to be a part of your world if it means losing everything I love!”
The air crackled with tension as the two of you faced each other, the weight of your words hanging between you. And then the dam broke. You collapsed into tears, the alcohol amplifying your emotions as you fell to your knees, sobs wracking your body. The tears spilled unchecked, your heart breaking under the weight of it all.
“I hate this!” you cried out, your voice muffled by the floor. “I hate feeling like this! I hate you!”
Sukuna stood frozen, a statue of power and control as he watched your breakdown unfold. But as your cries filled the room, something shifted within him.
He took a step closer, his presence looming over you like a storm cloud, and yet, despite the turmoil, you felt a flicker of something more—something like concern.
“Get up, little one.” he commanded softly, his voice low and steady. “You’re stronger than this.”
But you shook your head, your heartache spilling over. “I don’t want to be strong anymore. I just want to be free.”
There was a moment of silence as you both stood at the edge of a precipice, and for the first time, you could see the weight of your shared pain reflected in his eyes.
“I’m sorry.” he said finally, the words heavy with unspoken understanding. “You know it well, little one. I will never set you free.”
You didn’t know if he was apologizing for Hiromi, for Hironobu, or for the pain you both carried, but it was a start. You slowly rose to your feet, wiping your tears, though the hurt still lingered in your chest. You think that it doesn’t matter anymore. It never does.
Sukuna stood before you, an imposing figure, but in that moment, you could see the man behind the monster. The flicker of vulnerability lingered in the depths of his gaze, an acknowledgment of the bond that tethered you both to a past neither of you could escape.
“I may never be what you want me to be, little one.” he murmured. “But I won’t take away your happiness again.”
You looked into his eyes, searching for sincerity, and for the first time, you felt the hope of a fragile truce forming between you. It was a small step, but it was a step nonetheless, one that could lead you both out of the darkness and into the light—if only you could find the strength to keep moving forward.
The air was thick with unspoken emotions as you and Sukuna stood facing each other, the weight of your words still hanging heavily in the silence. His gaze bore into yours, a mix of intensity and something softer that made your heart race. You felt as if you were standing on a precipice, caught between the fear of falling and the desire to soar.
“I want to believe you, my lord.” you said quietly, the tremor in your voice betraying the storm of emotions still raging within. “But you have to understand… every time you pull me closer, it feels like you’re pushing me away. I can’t live like this—constantly afraid of losing everything.”
Sukuna’s expression shifted, a flicker of regret passing over his features. “I never meant to hurt you, little one.” he replied, his voice low. “But my world is not kind, and I can’t…..I can’t be what you want me to be. I cannot be kind to you.”
“But that’s just it!” you exclaimed, frustration bubbling up once more. “You’re so powerful, yet you let this darkness consume you! You wield it like a weapon, and I’m the one left in the crossfire! Why am I always suffering for your sake?”
He took a step closer, the space between you diminishing as he searched your face for understanding. “I am a monster, little one.” he said, his voice raw. “I have done terrible things—things that haunt me. But I never wanted to drag you into that darkness. You deserve to be happy. But….it is not meant to be. And we are…we are stuck together, whether you like it or not, in this cage.”
“Then why does it feel like you’re the one who keeps me from it?” you challenged, your heart racing. “I’m so tired of living in your shadow, of feeling like a mere afterthought in your life. Every time I see you with Chiharu, it reminds me that I am just a placeholder—a ghost of a memory that doesn’t matter.”
His jaw tightened, and for a moment, you feared you had pushed too far. But then he reached out, his hand brushing against your arm, the warmth of his touch igniting something deep within you.
“I don’t want to lose you, little one.” he said, his voice a husky whisper. “You’ve brought something into my life I never knew I needed. But it terrifies me. And I just….I will not let you go.”
You felt your breath hitch, a rush of emotions swirling within you. “Then show me, my lord.” you pleaded, your heart pounding in your chest. “Show me that I matter to you. Don’t make me feel like I’m just a convenience. I want to be more than that.”
His gaze softened, and for a fleeting moment, the god before you was just a man—a man struggling with his own demons, much like you. “I don’t know how anymore, little one.” he admitted, vulnerability lacing his words. “But I will try.”
The sincerity in his eyes pierced through the haze of your hurt and resentment. You had spent so long fighting against the current, desperately trying to find your footing in a world that seemed intent on pulling you under. But standing here, facing Sukuna, you realized that maybe—just maybe—there was a chance for something more, something real.
“I’m scared too, my lord.” you confessed, your voice trembling as the weight of your emotions threatened to crush you. “Scared that you’ll change your mind, scared that I’ll lose everything again. Or maybe you would kill me. But I can’t keep hiding from you. I cannot keep finding ways to escape you.”
The sincerity in your admission hung in the air between you, a fragile thread woven from the strands of your broken heart. Sukuna’s expression darkened as he processed your words, his usually confident demeanor faltering just slightly. He nodded slowly, his brow furrowed in contemplation.
“I know that too well, little one.” He brushes your hair away from your face. “I know it all.”
His voice was steady, almost soothing, but the underlying tension crackled like static in the air. You took a deep breath, a sense of resolve building within you. “I want to believe you, my lord.” you said softly, each word laced with the weight of your doubt. “But you know that you are not speaking true… you lie as easily as you breathe.And I drown loving you like its law and hating you for how you taught me to love you.”
The admission feel like a heavy stone between you, and you could see the flicker of something in his eyes—perhaps regret, perhaps anger. But you didn’t back down. You needed him to hear the truth, the raw, unvarnished reality of your existence.
“It’s as if you’re a tempest.” you continued, your voice rising with the heat of your frustration. “One moment you’re this powerful force, sweeping me off my feet, promising me the world, and the next, I’m left to drown in the chaos you create. You wield your power like a weapon, and I’m the one caught in the crossfire.”
His jaw clenched, and you could see the internal struggle etched on his face. “I never meant to hurt you, little one.” he said, but the words felt hollow, echoing through the chasm of pain that separated you.
“And yet you’re the architect of my suffering.” you challenged, your heart pounding in your chest. “You brought me into your world. And all I’ve known…is misery. You say you want me by your side, but you torture me. You kill me, everyday.”
The vulnerability in your voice cut through the tension like a blade, and you saw his expression shift. There was something there—something that hinted at the turmoil he carried beneath his godlike exterior.
“You’re not just a concubine to me.” he said, his tone softer, but the intensity of his gaze never wavered. “You mean more than you know.”
“More than what?” you spat, your anger flaring up once more. “More than a passing fancy? A moment of respite from your endless hunger for power? I am not a toy for you to play with, my lord. I’m not just a distraction from your demons, your misery. You want me to believe that I matter. You’re using me to fill the void left by Hiromi.”
The name hung in the air, heavy with the ghosts of the past, and you could see the shift in Sukuna’s expression—a flicker of pain, a crack in his facade. “You don’t understand…” he started, but you cut him off, needing to vent the storm of hurt and betrayal swirling within you.
“Understand what?” you cried, your voice breaking. “That I’m just a shadow in the light of a dead woman? That every moment I spend with you is tainted by her memory? You keep her close, a constant reminder of what I can never be. She gave you a child, love—everything I yearn for from you these past few years but can’t have. I feel like I’m drowning in your past while you expect me to be grateful for whatever scraps of affection you throw my way.”
For a heartbeat, the silence swallowed you both, the air thick with tension and unshed tears. Sukuna’s eyes bore into yours, a tempest of emotions raging beneath the surface—frustration, desire, regret. “I don’t want to lose you, little one.” he said, the words almost a whisper.
“And yet you keep pushing me away, my lord.” you shot back, your heart aching with the truth. “You think you can keep me at arm’s length, and I’ll just accept it? You can’t keep pulling me in with one hand while pushing me away with the other. I need to know that I am more than just a fleeting moment for you!”
“I’m trying!” he shouted, his voice rising, but the urgency in it didn’t mask the vulnerability. “You don’t understand the things I’ve done, the things I’m capable of! I’ve been alive for a long time, and you are the first to accept what I am. I am trying to keep you, little one. I need you.”
His raw honesty pierced through the fog of your emotions, and you felt your heart crack a little more. “Let me go, my lord.” you whispered, the weight of your own words settling heavily on your chest. “Let me be free of this burden you’ve placed on me. I want to be happy, but I can’t find that happiness in the shadow of your misery upon me.”
“I can’t.” he replied, desperation lacing his voice. “I won’t. You’re a part of me now, whether you want to be or not.”
You shook your head, tears spilling down your cheeks as the reality of your situation sank in. “But I’m not sure I want to be part of this… this nightmare anymore.” you said, your voice breaking. “I’m tired, my lord. Tired of fighting for a love that feels more like a battlefield than a sanctuary.”
With every word, your resolve crumbled a little more, and you felt the exhaustion wash over you like a tide. The weight of your feelings, the burden of past traumas, and the constant strain of navigating the unpredictable depths of your relationship with Sukuna were too much to bear. You wanted to be strong, to stand your ground and fight for something better, but fatigue was clawing at the edges of your consciousness.
You could see the struggle reflected in his eyes—an intense mixture of determination and sorrow. But even in the heat of your argument, you sensed that his heart was also heavy with burdens he carried alone. You took a shaky breath, desperate for release from this tumultuous cycle of emotions.
As the exhaustion settled deeper into your bones, you felt your eyelids growing heavy, the fight within you slowly extinguishing. “I just—” you started, but the words faded as you succumbed to the comforting darkness that beckoned you.
“Just rest.” Sukuna murmured, his voice a soothing balm against the chaos of your thoughts. “You need to let go for a moment. I’ll be here when you wake.”
His voice wrapped around you like a cocoon, and despite the turmoil of your heart, you found solace in his presence. With one last shuddering breath, you finally surrendered to the pull of sleep, the weight of your burdens slipping away as your consciousness faded into the comforting embrace of oblivion.
In the morning, you know that nothing will change.
In the morning, you will still be miserable with him.
In the morning, you’ll love him like he is the law.
In the morning, you’ll worship him as religion taught.
In the morning, you’ll never be able to be free from him.
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x you#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna ryomen x you#jujutsu kaisen x y/n#ryoumen sukuna x reader#sukuna ryoumen x you#sukuna ryoumen x reader#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x y/n#jjk sukuna x reader#ryomen x reader#ryomen x you#sukuna angst#jjk angst#jjk fic#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk fluff#kayu writes ! ! !
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Charles jealousy smut please!
my own little devil
order up!
hi lovely thanks for the request, i have been dying to write this and i am a charles girl so i may have gone a little feral while writing this, so apologies in advance <3 i did end up picking prompts from my bakery list to go with this just fyi and those prompts will be bolded.
pairing; charles leclerc x female fwb reader
blurb; your devious little plan to make charles jealous and regret leaving you high and dry the previous night goes wrong.
warnings; biting kink, rough sex, a speck of breeding, spit, dirty thoughts, wall sex, google translated french, semi public sex, creampie, hair pulling, dirty talking, oral fem!receiving, possessive behavior, choking, mentions of pregnancy, dom!charles. [let me know if i missed anything!]
chai; biting or hickeys [i picked biting] lemonade; possessive vodka shot; rough sex tea; semi public doppio; wall sex chocolate mousse; "i'm sorry" croissant; "don't you dare" pancake; "no, we can't, not here" sugar pie; "stop wriggling" boston cream pie; "fuck, it's dripping down your legs"
currently playing; jealous by nick jonas "cause you're too fuckin' beautiful and everybody wants a taste, that's why i still get jealous"
it was all his fault, at least thats what you told yourself when you came up with this devious little plan in the first place, that it was charles's fault for up and leaving before you'd been able to cum around his cock last night.
he'd showed up at your place around two in the morning tipsy and in a grump from having lost the race earlier in the day begging you to make him feel better and so naturally since he was the best fuck you'd ever had, you let him have his way with you but his way last night was utter fucking torment.
he enjoyed, no he loved seeing you beg and he was hoping you'd be begging tonight down on your sweet little knees but you had decided that, that was not going to be the case, you wanted to be the one to have him on his fucking knees for a change.
you knew deep down that this dress would do the trick, the red satin hugged your figure, attaching itself to each and every curve of your body and the bra you wore pushed your boobs so far up that they could fall out of your dress with one wrong move, you looked like a sin; that was all charles was capable of thinking the moment he saw you walk into the club, his own personal little devil.
when you brushed past him on your way to the bar, your fingers grazed across his crotch and the slight gasp he let out made you smirk "you are playing a dangerous game douce fille" charles whispered to himself as he watched you go, hips swinging with every step, charles couldn't help but lick his lips at the sight, desperate for a taste.
charles was fine with letting you wander about the club showing off for him but what he didn't like was you showing off for all the other men there as well with your ass practically hanging out the bottom of your dress, you were his and he wasn't gonna let another guy lay a hand on you, so while he let you have your space, he found his eyes traveling over to you every now and then just to make sure you weren't getting into any mischief.
but little did either of you know, mischief was heading your way. when you felt a hand brush across your back so close to your ass as you leaned across the bar to take your drink from the bartender, you smirked thinking it was charles coming to claim his prize for the night but oh how you couldn't have been more wrong.
as you looked behind you, you made eye contact with a man that just radiated fuckboy energy "please don't touch what isn't yours" you mused quietly and he held his hand's up innocently like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar "relax just wanted to get to know ya, i'm brad" you couldn't help but roll your eyes, brad what a classic fuckboy name.
after a thought you decided he was harmless since you had no intention of flirting or going home with him tonight, so you decided to indulge him a little and so you sat across from one another at the bar, slowly sipping at your individual drinks.
charles had only taken his eyes off you for less than two minutes and when his eyes sought you out, he saw red.... seeing you sitting across from a man at the bar, he wasn't happy and despite you deciding to be a little tease with your choice of dress tonight he trusted you like he had never trusted any other girl before and so he let it go until he watched the guy slip his hand onto your thigh, caressing the skin like he owned you but he didn't, charles did and he was going to make sure that this prick fucking knew that.
"let me get you another drink" brad asked, hand still running along your thigh, little did he know that if he didn't remove it soon he would no longer have a hand and if the intimidating presence behind you didn't give away the fact that brad was fucked, the hand that soon wrapped around your throat should have been a dead giveaway, charles tilted your back to look into your eyes "don't you dare" he practically growled.
"you say yes and i will not be gentle with you" brad's hand slipped from your thigh "i didn't know you were taken" brad stated, trying to defend himself "i'm not" you mumbled, still gazing into charles's eyes and as your words hit his ears, he tightened his grip around your throat.
"lets go" he growled, pulling you off the bar stool and into the bathroom of the club, you'd barely made it in the door before charles pressed your back into the cold tile wall, his hand once again wrapping around your throat and holding tight as you struggled against his hold "stop wriggling" he demanded, his breath hot against your ear as he pressed a little tighter causing black spots to form in front of your eyes, as he watched a tear slip from your eye he eased back a little loosening his hold but not completely letting go just yet "your mine so all those guys can fuck off and leave you alone"
"i'm not yours" you reminded him and he gave you a look that told you that you'd picked your words poorly "yeah, well i'm going to fucking make you mine douce fille" and with that he dropped to his knees, hiking your dress up and around your hips, he dragged the fabric of your panties to the side drooling at the sight of your wet little pussy, if you asked charles in a public setting what his favorite thing about you was he would say your eyes but if you asked in private, he wouldn't even give you a verbal answer and instead just drop to his knees in front of you.
"no, we can't, not here" your fingers tangled in his soft locks, pulling at it to try and distract him from his current mission of wanting to eat your pussy until your legs gave out around his head and your whole body was trembling from his touch but your words met deaf ears as he spit into his hand before rubbing his fingers along your folds, grazing your clit with every pass he made.
"your fucking crazy" you whispered as a shiver ran down your spine due to charles's touch on your clit but also at the idea of being caught in such a compromising position in public, oh how you could see the headlines now.
"FERRARI'S GOLDEN BOY CAUGHT IN ROMANTIC TRYST!"
it was only a few seconds before charles's mouth attached to your pussy, licking through your folds to suck up every last drop of the juices you were currently leaking all over his pretty little face like an alcoholic who'd gone far too long without a drink.
his fingers gripped tightly at your thighs making sure to leave little bruises that he could kiss better later. when he slipped his tongue inside, you shuddered above him, hands pulling at his hair but he never ceased, this man was starving and he was going to feast.
you couldn't help but gently rock your hips against his tongue which caused his nose to brush against your clit causing the most gorgeous friction that had you tilting your head back as a low moan slipped past your lips, fingers tugging at his hair as he smiled against your folds continuing to eat your pussy like a man starved.
you were reaching your peak and fast, you always did when charles ate you out like this, you hips began to move faster against his tongue chasing the pleasure he gave you but right as you were on the edge of pure bliss he pulled away and the sight you saw as he gazed up at you was down right erotic, his cheeks, lips, nose and even chin wet with a mix of your juices and his saliva, the perfect mix in his mind.
his pupils were wide and his mouth hung open as he panted, his warm breath hitting your thigh as he gently nibbled at the skin sending even more shock waves zapping up your spine, he scrambled up your body, hands pulling at his belt desperate to get his hard aching cock inside of your tight little cunt.
"why'd you stop" to say you were pissed was an understatement, he was not about to leave you high and dry again "i'm sorry" he rushed out, he knew that if he was to keep lapping at your dripping wet pussy like the feral animal he was any longer that he would cum in his pants right then and there.
"i was going to cum in my pants" he chuckled, connecting his lips to yours for the first time that night, you moaned at the taste of yourself on his tongue, his kiss was sloppy and desperate causing spit to coat both of your faces.
when you pulled away you couldn't help but smile at the sight, charles cheeks were flushed and warm from the heat radiating between your bodies, his eyes wide and your lipstick was smeared across his lips and chin "so fucking pretty" you murmured, thumb running over his bottom lip as he pulled his aching cock from the confines of his jeans.
you squeaked as he picked you up, practically manhandling you as he wrapped your legs around his waist and plunged in without warning causing your head to slam against the wall behind you "fuck" you gasped "be gentle" but he was far from gentle in this moment as he thrusted in and out of you at an unnatural speed that had your head spinning.
if anyone were to walk into the bathroom in that moment and catch you, you'd have looked like a pair of rabbits in heat from the way you were going at it.
you couldn't help but bite as his shoulder, teeth digging into his skin and drool soaking his shirt in an attempt to keep quiet but the sound of his hips slamming against yours would give you away before any moans did, the sound was wet and sticky as your hips slammed together.
a sharp pain hit you as charles fingers threaded through your hair and tugged forcefully so that he could kiss and bite at the delicate skin of your neck, marking you has his own personal fucktoy, no other man would ever fucking touch you again, not on his watch.
"you wanna come inside me joli garçon, you want me to make you a daddy" charles groaned against your shoulder at the words you whispered in his ear, a million fantasies coming to mind in that moment but pushed them all down in order to focus on you and the pleasure he was making you feel.
when he felt your pussy clench around him, his hips came to a halt, body shaking with pleasure as he released ropes and ropes of his sweet hot cum deep into your tight pussy that still clenched around his cock, milking him dry.
charles's lipstick stained swollen lips pressed against yours as you swallowed eachothers moans, his hand snuck down and started to rub at your clit, pace fast and rough, he was desperate to make you cum around him and when you finally did, juices gushing around his cock, he couldn't help but cum again at the feeling.
when it was all over he pulled his head from the crook of your neck as you both panted "holy fuck" he breathed out "that was the best fuck we've ever had" he darkly chuckled.
"i never knew you were a biter" you giggled which caused your pussy to clench around his cock again, a small shot of cum shooting out.
he slowly and gently let you down and as he kneeled down to pull your dress over your butt, he couldn't help but lean forward and lick a stripe up your thigh "fuck, it's dripping down your legs" his tone of voice told he was proud of the work he'd done.
he had fucking bred you and god did he want to do it again and again until it stuck and you were round and pregnant with his baby.
"your fucking mine now you petit diable"
you couldn't help but laugh at his words "little devil huh"
oh yeah, you were his own personal little devil and a fucking hot one at that.
"yeah, my little devil" he chuckled, lips pressing against yours sloppily once more, you both couldn't help but smile against eachothers lips,
"lets get the fuck out of here" he suggested, tangling your fingers with his own "why, you going to breed me again" you joked not knowing how fucking right you actually were.
#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc x reader smut#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc fanfic#formula 1#formula one#formula one fanfiction
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I love your UA Touya so muchhhh!!! If you don’t mind, can you write down UA Touya HC’s!!!🤍🤍
U.A touya hcs !!
note: I was gonna save this till I finish all my other reqs but I decided why the fuck not 😭 also thank u for loving my ua touya!! he's officially my everything‼️ also also!!! this is a sugar spice and everything nice universe<3 everyone's okay here ‼️
- nepo baby I have nothing else to say, you've def went on multiple trips w him and his family (ur basically the 5th child for them). His bday gifts go so hard and he's like "yeah yeah whateverrrr" while blushing if u hug him!!
- he's a super heavy sleeper. Like normal touya is a menace while sleeping, ua touya is double that and it's scary I fear him. Sleepovers always end up with you going to sleep in the guest room cs the mf won't stop moving, kicking, snoring, and talking (and occasionally shouting)😭 instead of js "no I don't do that." he'd go "huh don't remember doing it so it didn't happen. 🤷♂️" obviously you don't remember you were sleeping mf.
- he gives his all in training (esp cs he has support gear), training w him is like a full-on battle it's a fucking struggle to hold him down, but also he'd be the best training partner you'd ever have. He would NEVER and I say NEVER take it easy unless you ask him to, if he gives it his all he wants you to give it your all.
- loves SWS and PTV, has been forced into piano by Rei as a child and kind of liked it, he probably likes classical music bcs Enji played it alot as well and it helps him focus while studying. OVERALL incredibly into music and could talk abt it for hours (you probably have listened to him rant abt music for 2 hrs straight before)
- is a failure in the kitchen no questions asked, he asked Fuyumi to teach him how to make soba once, 10 minutes in he starts scratching his head going "uh huhhh got it" (HE DOES NOT GET IT!!!!!)
- loves chemistry and math, don't ask why he just does also he gives off good at drawing without trying?? like he's a natural, all the art teachers adored him!!!!
- Shoto and Touya are so silly tg. Touya rolls his eyes and pouts, shoto copies his big brother even if he doesn't know what he's doing😭😭 Touya does something remotely cool and Shoto's looking up at Touya with sparkles in his eyes like "THATS MY BIG BROTHERRR!!!" while clapping (this is when shoto is a lot younger ofc not when he's 15‼️ he still adores his big brother at 15 tho)
- touya pretends he hates how close you and shoto are but the mf adores it and thinks it's adorable and sweet!!
- natsuo and touya are gossipers. Except Touya has all the dirt and Natsuo gasps while nodding his head, after all of that they RUN to Fuyumi who tells them "At the end of the day, we shouldn't talk about people." while sighing as if she isn't noting it down in her head to run and tell it to her bsf ‼️
- you can't tell me he's not putting his hand on his head whenever he's flirted with and going "WTF DO I DO!!" and if it's you (even if it's joking and through text) he's sitting on his bed giggling at 3 am and then panicking internally before acting nonchalant and texting "ew"
- he does get girls and guys tho, he's too pretty to not have bitches 😭 he just doesn't know what to do with the bitches ‼️‼️
- loves abandoned spots, he forces you to go with him even if ur scared while you're going "bro there's a ghost I'm telling you" he's like "what is it gonna do?? eat you??" While rolling his eyes or sumn😭
- you best believe if he feels sumn though he's running for his life, like he could be on par with Iida bcs of how fucking scared he'd get he's shooting his fire behind him and RUNNING!! in the end it's probably a spider or sumn and he's like "pfff I knew that!!!"
- has some sort of rivalry with Keigo even if he didn't do anything ALSO you showing interest in keigo just makes the hate 10× more intense he tweaks the second he sees you looking at keigo.
- he swears up and down left and right that he hates roblox but he LIESSSS!! you could find him 3 am on dress to impress arguing w kids about emo vs goth cs mfs don't know the difference
- on the topic of roblox, you, shoto, and him probably play it once a week tg (shoto chooses the game 99% of the time)
- whenever he's anxious or sumn he just goes "cool yeah coolcoolcool" cool is the most overused word in his dictionary trust (he just kinda reminds me of jake Peralta in the vocabulary department..)
- makes sure shoto memorizes the lyrics to hot and cold by Katy perry just bcs it's funny to him (it's so stupid), there's a dance number and everything TRUST!!!
- 4 am in the morning, rei has walked in on touya on his knees doing the emo hand move thing while singing with a comb.
- HE TURNS THT SHIT OFF SOOOO FAST WHILE COUGHING AND COVERING HIS FACE
- rant to him all you want, he might not understand but he'd listen ‼️‼️ (the second he hears of any mistreatment he tweaks)
- during the sports festival he's burned keigo's feathers multiple times (cough cough reference)
- sorry everyone but he IS one of those "Oh you like sws? name 5 songs." God forbid he sees a preppy nirvana t-shirt, he'd burn it in the store and run away
- he's actually pretty touchy when he's comfortable, like pinkies wrapped tg or hand around ur shoulder just has to have a hand on you at all times ‼️‼️
- overall awesome bsf, awesome brother, and would be an awesome bf!!
okay I'm done now it's 2 am and i gotta sleep hope u like this anon !!! 😔😔 (soz for making this so long)
#bnha#bnha x reader#mha#touya todoroki#bnha x you#mha x reader#mha x you#bnha hcs#mha hcs#touya todoroki x reader#touya x reader#bnha touya todoroki#dabi x reader#mha dabi#bnha dabi#dabi hcs#shoto todoroki#todofam
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supermodel | part one
part two
pairing: choi beomgyu x you
summary: after beomgyu ghosts you after three (what you thought were) really successful dates, your close friend asks you if she can date him instead. you, being the pushover you are, say yes. but beomgyu's not done bothering you.
genre: romance, angst, smut (MDNI!!!)
warnings: MDNI!!! cheating (not on you [and it's lowkey justified if you ask me]), unprotected sex (no!), oral (f. receiving), creampie, dacryphilia, praise, degradation, manipulative!beomgyu if you squint (lmk if you catch it lmao), if i missed anything lmk
word count: 6k (ouuu... definitely not 13k i'm sorry anon my love)
notes: ...hi. so, as most of my followers know, i primarily write angst. this is my first time ever posting smut on here and i genuinely don't know if it's any good. if it's bad,,,, i'm sorry in advance!! see ending for more notes :)
you do not like beomgyu. you don't like the way he keeps his hair so long, or the way he tucks it behind his ears when he's focused. you don't like that he has the same music taste as you and how much of a snob he is about it. you don't like the way he laughs obnoxiously loud and you especially don't like the way his cheeks dimple like little whiskers when he does it. no, you don't like beomgyu one bit.
it hasn't always been like this. there was a time, albeit brief and fleeting, that you really liked the aforementioned grievances you've grown to hate so much. in fact, you liked them so much, you even liked the boy himself. that ship has sailed, though. and it sails further and further as you watch him cuddle up even closer to one of your closest friends, hana. you aren't a bitter person, really. you're usually pretty laidback, all things considered, so when hana asked you if she could date the boy who ghosted you after three (what you thought were) really successful dates, you said yes.
do you regret agreeing? well, how can you regret it when hana looks so happy? in fact, she looks happier than ever as beomgyu discreetly places his hand on her inner thigh. oh man. you think you're gonna be sick.
-
meeting beomgyu was like a meet cute in a romcom. you were alone in a cafe (cliché, but true) when he pulled up a seat and sat next to you. he was cute, he was charming, and, most surprisingly, he was actually really funny. he made you giggle more than once and you almost couldn't believe someone so seemingly perfect wanted anything to do with you, but he did. he was extremely eager, if anything, because as soon as you gave him your number, he texted you asking if you wanted to go out sometime. you, with your innocent heart, could only agree.
your first date was at that same cafe. he had memorized your order, even though he had only met you once, and you felt so flattered your heart skipped a beat. you're a little on the shyer side, but he was able to pull you out of your shell with ease. you'd later find out he has the ability to do that with everyone, but back then, you were amazed by how naturally he pulled it off.
after your first date, you'd texted all your friends about it. they asked for pictures and details, but you said it was too early and you didn't want to jinx it. you're the type to try not to get too caught up in the moment in favor of being more realistic, so it had been a pleasant surprise for most of your friends to hear how excited you were. this could really be something special, you thought.
and special, it was. your second date had been at a nice restaurant you'd never heard of. beomgyu was pulling out all the stops for you and spared nothing when it came to giving you the royal treatment. he was courteous and kind, but still mischievously flirty. you were enamored with everything about him. you were used to being treated kindly on dates, of course, but you had never seen anything quite like beomgyu. it seemed like he couldn't get enough of you, which was a novel feeling, though totally welcomed.
you finally felt confident enough to tell your friends all about him. when asked, you had no problem divulging all the finer details of your dates. you had nothing but praises for him, and even sent one of his instagram pictures to show off his good looks. most of them were taken aback at how handsome he was. hana, however, was not at all surprised. it shocked you to find out that she knew beomgyu, and knew him well. she had floated in the same circle of friends with him in college and you were pleased to find out that he had always been a really nice guy, if a little flighty at times, but he had never been that way with you. plus, it seemed to you that he had matured quite a bit. for once in your life, you got your hopes up. but, like most things, you would come to regret it.
your third and final date had been simple enough. he had asked you to come hang out at his place, but said his friends would likely be coming and going. it was nice. it was intimate. his apartment was small and a little messy, but filled with personality. you smiled when you saw polaroids he had taken of (and with) his friends adorning his bedroom walls. he seemed really sentimental, actually, but you liked that about him. you liked everything about him, really.
so when he leaned in for a kiss while watching some dumb old slasher flick, you closed your eyes and prepared to meet his warm lips. this was real. you would have a boyfriend, a near perfect one. and he liked you. he really, really liked you. what more could you ask for? but you never expected that a phone call would pull you out of your daze. you checked the caller id and immediately became worried. hana very rarely called you, but she said she was having an emergency and you, being the good friend you are, had to bail on beomgyu. the emergency in question was her having a meltdown over some guy she had never even mentioned, but had apparently really liked. you had no choice but to go to her place, bringing a tub of ice cream and all of her favorite snacks in tow. beomgyu said he understood, because of course he did, and said he would text you with other plans.
when he, in fact, did not text you first with plans, you had opted to text him yourself. you figured he had just forgotten or something, so you simply greeted him and apologized again for having to leave. it seems so fucking stupid to you now — the way you waited so anxiously by the phone for a reply that would never come. you remember staying up all night and jolting every time your phone buzzed. you were anxiously awaiting a text, a call, fucking anything, really. but it was pointless. after a few days of radio silence on beomgyu's end, you had pretty much resigned yourself to the fact that he would never respond. what did you do to scare him away? you thought you had done everything right, but you must’ve come on too strong or something. you felt utterly humiliated.
you were in your head again. it wouldn't surprise you if you had imagined the whole fucking thing, actually. but a few weeks later, hana had texted you asking if you were okay with her dating the boy you'd been waiting for. she seemed so hopeful and so happy, how could you say no? just because it didn't work out between you two didn't mean that it couldn't work out between them. maybe, deep down, the ugliest parts of you kind of hoped it wouldn't, but when she texted you with all the filthy details of the first time they hooked up, you knew you were thinking too highly of yourself.
-
beomgyu doesn't like you, and even if his refusal to text you back wasn't enough of an indication that that's the case, his attitude towards you while dating hana tells you everything you need to know. the way he manages to antagonize you over what would normally be completely menial things should be studied. when you trip over your words, he makes a point to call it out and laugh, which results in you, of course, tripping over your words even more. when you look like shit, he makes sarcastic comments along the lines of "oh i see you've decided to really doll yourself up this evening". what's worse is you're so non-confrontational, you just let him chirp.
what you don't know is that the more unbothered you look, the more eager he is to elicit a reaction out of you. it drives him crazy how nothing seems to drive you crazy, so he pushes and pushes, but it's like a fist landing on cotton. he's on the brink of madness trying to get you to say something, anything. but you never do. you just smile or shake your head and it's all he can do not to snap.
-
you’re at your favorite bar when you meet him. you’re not alone, or at least you shouldn’t be, but hana has gone outside to make a call. usually, you’d be the first one to accompany her, but you’re honestly not in the mood to hear her flirt with beomgyu (or beomie bear, as she calls him) over the phone. you never are, really, but especially not now as you down another shot of whatever the bartender has deemed as “the strongest shit they’ve got.” you don’t think you look particularly attractive at the moment, but when jay sees you, he’s flocking towards you.
“hey,” he says with a smile as he slides onto the stool next to yours.
“hey,” you reply shyly. are you imagining things or did he seriously just blush at your answer?
“i-i’m jay.” you can’t help but giggle at how nervous he seems. cute.
you take the time to introduce yourself and jay seems relieved that you’re actually receptive to his awkwardness. you like the way it feels to be in control for once. you like the way it feels to be wanted so much. so when he asks you if you want to go out in the near future, you say yes.
in the midst of your conversation, hana comes sauntering back in with a dopey grin on her face. she has, no doubt, just gotten off the phone with beomgyu if her satisfied expression is any indication. her satisfaction turns into surprise when she registers who’s sitting next to you.
“jay?!” she exclaims, taken aback by the familiar boy next to you.
“hana? oh my god, how are you?” he asks, standing up and pulling her into a hug. “we went to college together,” he explains when they part. your previous happiness crumbles in an instant. the nasty part of you wonders if she knows fucking everybody you’re interested in, but you shut it down mercilessly. it's not hana’s fault she's so likable. it's your fault for not being more so, actually.
“i’m good,” she says with a light giggle. they catch up for a moment before she drops an atomic bomb. “you know, i’m actually with beomgyu now.”
“damn, really? i thought that would never actually happen,” he replies, genuine shock falling across his sculpted features. your interest can’t help but be piqued at this.
“what makes you say that?” she asks rather defensively. jay can tell he messed up from her tone and he backtracks immediately.
“o-oh nothing. i just never pegged you two as compatible, but congratulations! i know you’ve liked him for a long time.” ?... ??...???? what the hell?
“what is he talking about?” you can’t help but ask confusedly. hana looks thoroughly reddened as she fumbles for an explanation.
“i-i liked beomie back in college. n-nothing major!” she stammers. you can do nothing but stare. she liked beomgyu and she never told you? well, you were half in love with the boy after three dates and you’re still half in love with him, actually, so it’s not particularly surprising that she fell for him, but the fact that she never mentioned it feels iffy at best. jay can sense the tension, and he cleverly excuses himself with:
“shit, my friends are here. i’ll text you soon?” he says, looking to you for confirmation. you manage to muster up a smile and a nod, but you’re still disturbed by this revelation.
“... are you mad?” hana asks tentatively.
“n-no. of course not!” you say with conviction, but deep down, you know you’re uncomfortable. she probably knows it, too, but she doesn’t pry much further.
“i’m glad you’re not mad,” she sighs. “anyway, it’s not like you’re dating him now.” she pokes at the sore spot on your heart with ease. maybe if she were more sober, she’d see the hurt on your face, but as it is, she doesn’t register a thing.
so hana liked beomgyu back in college? why hadn’t she told you? well, you guess it doesn’t make a difference now. she’s with him. you’re not. what else is there to say, really? but in the back of your mind, gears start turning. you just don’t know it yet.
-
hana has been a lot nicer to you than usual after that night at the bar. she’s always nice, but she seems hellbent on making sure your prospective date with jay goes well. you suppose it’s her way of making it up to you for withholding her secret crush on beomgyu from you. to be honest, there’s no real reason for her to do so, but you accept her kindness graciously. now, the night before your big date, she’s practically hounding you with questions.
“what are you gonna wear?” she asks over the phone.
“mmm, i dunno yet,” you hum into the speaker. you really don’t know. jay invited you to a house party, which is not the most romantic place in the world, but hana convinced you that he’s just awkward and a group setting (with drinks, no less) would loosen him up. you realize that you want to impress him. you want him to think you’re the most beautiful girl in the room, but nothing you have in your closet quite fits the bill.
“ooh, i know! you can just borrow one of my dresses. what about the black one? the one you complimented last time we went out! i won’t be home tomorrow night, but i’ll leave the key under the mat, okay? so just come grab it when you’re free!” she sounds proud of herself for coming up with that. you don’t have the heart to tell her it’s a little too scandalous for you, so you grit your teeth and accept her peace offering.
“mmm, yeah. that sounds good. thank you, hana,” you reply.
“pay attention to meeee,” you hear a deep voice cut in from over the phone. beomgyu. you try not to think about the way your heart aches when you hear him (very loudly) plant a kiss on… some part of her body. you’re not exactly sure where it is, but you falter when you hear her reaction.
“beomie, ah, not there,” hana moans and you feel a pang in your chest. “hey, i’ve gotta go, okay?” you don’t have to imagine what they’re about to do and it hurts.
“okay,” you say with a bitter smile, but the call drops before you can even reply.
-
it’s finally the night of the date and you’re anxious, to put it mildly. you don’t know how long you spent trying to get your hair and makeup right, but an ungodly amount of time has passed. you’re almost tempted to skip getting the dress from hana’s apartment, but you really don’t have anything else that suits the occasion, so you begrudgingly hail a cab over to her place.
you enter her apartment and head toward her bedroom, where the pretty black dress is waiting for you. with a sigh, you strip out of your sweats and shimmy into the dress. you look in hana's bedroom mirror and you have to admit that you look pretty good. you feel a lot more confident going out with a guy as handsome as jay now. as you’re fixing up your hair one last time, you’re stunned to hear the apartment door opening. she’s home? weird, but welcome. you need a second pair of eyes on you.
“hey! how do i look?” you say with a smile as you exit her bedroom, but you’re not greeted with hana’s smiling face. instead, you’re met with beomgyu’s frown.
“w-what are you doing here?” you ask, genuinely surprised.
“this is my girlfriend’s apartment. what are you doing here?” you thought he had heard over the phone that you’d be here to pick up the dress tonight. but then, you supposed that he may have been a little preoccupied sucking the skin off of hana to really pay attention to much else. you’re so busy over analyzing this, you don’t even notice how intently beomgyu is staring at you now. even if you did, you’d probably misread it as ridicule rather than what it truly is.
“nothing, i-i’m on my way out,” you reply simply. with that, you start trying to walk past him. before you can, though, he’s asking you questions.
"you're seriously going out with him? in that, too?” he asks, disgust apparent. at least, that’s what it sounds like to you. your eyes survey your own attire and you feel extremely small in this moment, all things considered. normally, you'd shut down and second guess yourself. maybe you do look a little ridiculous in this tiny dress and maybe going out with jay is a bad in idea. maybe he's just fucking with your head and maybe he'll toss you away just like beomgyu did. maybe, maybe, maybe. but then? maybe not. and even if he does, you don't want to hear any of that shit from beomgyu of all people.
"oh, fuck you, beomgyu."
he looks perfectly scandalized by your comment. you’ve never talked back to him before, and certainly not like this. his eyebrows raise and his jaw drops before he can finally choke out the words "e-excuse me?"
"i said fuck you. i really don't give a shit about what you have to say anymore."
you're again trying to barrel past him but he steps in front of the door, scowl etched into his pretty features.
"what? are you mad at me now?" you say mockingly. "well, you don't get to be mad at me. move."
it is genuinely amazing to see beomgyu as he is now. he looks like a child who's floundering for a comeback.
"w-why are you mad? i'm just looking out for you!" oh, you can't help but laugh in his face at that one. he winces when you do.
"my god, that's rich coming from you. what's the worst that could happen? we go on a couple of dates and then he ghosts me? can't say it hasn't happened before."
"th-that's different!" he sputters, face flushing beet red.
"different how?!" you counter. he’s such a fucking hypocrite. you're not the type to get so riled up, but his words have you seeing red. his next words, even more so.
"you... you don't even like me!"
"and why exactly would i like the man who ghosted me, again? you can kick rocks for all i care!" you try to steady your breathing. blowing up like this right before your first date with jay can't be good for your head. luckily, it seems like beomgyu is still fishing for words when you regain your composure. "whatever. i'm done. goodbye, beomgyu." you reach around him for the door handle, but he slams it shut.
"what the fuck?!" you exclaim exasperatedly.
"you don't understand," beomgyu says, voice trembling and eyes scarlet. "hana said you didn't like me."
"hana? what does hana have to do with — oh." oh.
"she said you didn't like me and thought i was obnoxious. she told me she called and interrupted our date because you wanted her to.”
“why didn’t you just ask, beomgyu? i liked you!” you exclaim. he ruined everything all because of a few words from someone else?
“why would i ask when hana told me that you didn’t want anything to do with me?”
"so you believed hana instead of just opening your fucking mouth? what, does she wipe your ass and spoon feed you, too?
“watch your mouth,” beomgyu says lowly.
“or what?” you taunt with a smirk. “you’ll be mad? is beomie bear gonna lose his temper?” you’re on your tiptoes now, face mere inches away from his. where you got the confidence to provoke the man who towers over you even on the worst of days, you have no idea, but the idea of seeing beomgyu squirm is lighting a fire in you you didn’t know existed. is he gonna hit you? scream in your face? you’re excited to see how he reacts. when his gaze flickers from your smiling eyes to your lips, you don’t even get half a second to question his odd look when his lips come crashing down onto yours.
his big hands grip the back of your head, holding you in place as he punishes your lips with a force you’ve only ever dreamt about. his lips are chapped and you can taste a hint of his favorite lip balm, which he had smeared on just before his arrival. you’re too shocked to move, you’re too shocked to do anything besides gasp when he bites your bottom lip. he takes your open mouth as permission to shove his warm tongue into it. you want to say the kiss is full of fire, and it is, but there’s an overwhelming sense of gentleness, too. it’s hard to put into words, so instead of trying to, you let yourself melt into the feeling. he takes your acquiescence as a sign to go even further. at this point, he’s practically dragging you over to the couch. you’re surprised at how you don’t even attempt to resist when he pushes you down. you’re seated now and he licks his lips hungrily as he lifts your pathetic excuse for a dress off of your body and tosses it somewhere behind the couch. his eyes alight with something akin to raw anger when he takes note of the fact that you are, in fact, not wearing a bra.
“you were seriously gonna go out like that? what a whore,” he says menacingly. you’re now clad in nothing but your favorite pair of underwear. you would usually feel insecure in front of such an intense gaze, but beomgyu looks at you like he wants to devour every part of you. and he will, with time.
“i thought jay would like it,” you shrug. his eyes burn even brighter and he looks like he’s on the brink of snapping. god, fucking with him is so exhilarating. is this how he feels when he’s trying to get under your skin? maybe you do understand why he antagonizes you, actually. this shit feels amazing.
he kneels down before you and possessively kisses your neck until it's numb — pouring out hot kisses and sucking on the skin there like he’s staking his claim. it’s almost like he’s daring another man to touch you, and he doesn’t have to say anything because it’s like you already understand his intentions, and you revel in it.
his lips travel down to your breasts and they almost ache in anticipation. cruelly, he avoids your pert nipples and opts to circle his tongue around them, sucking on the soft skin and leaving marks in his wake. one of his hands move down to your underwear and he stops his teasing when he feels how wet you are.
“j-jesus, is all this for me?” you’re too embarrassed to respond. he’s trying to keep his cool, but he’s taken aback by how soaked you are. he was already hard just from the kiss alone, but now he aches. he slides your underwear to the side and actually groans when he sees your slickness for himself. slowly, teasingly, he finds his way to your clit and you let out a soft gasp when he finally touches it. you’re unable to stifle a moan when he gingerly takes one of his long, calloused fingers and begins to push it into your cunt.
“t-tight!” he hisses. “how am i gonna fit?” you’d roll your eyes in annoyance at his self-aggrandizing words if you could muster up anything other than the feeling of pure bliss as he slides another finger in. he’s kneeling between your legs, and you feel some sort of sick satisfaction as you watch the boy lick his lips before trailing opened-mouth kisses on your thighs as he inches closer and closer to your cunt.
you feel his cool breath against your core and you’re seconds away from begging him to continue, but he seems even more eager than you are as he quickly buries his face into your heat. his first lick is long and slow, but you can feel the vibrations from his moan and it reverberates through your legs all the way to your toes. as if he’s a man starved, he messily licks and sucks on your pussy while pumping his fingers in and out mercilessly. you have to hold onto his long hair, not because you want to hurt him, but because it’s the only thing keeping you sane. when he hooks his fingers, you can’t help but call out his name.
“b-beomgyu!” his darkened eyes snap up to meet yours while his pace becomes even more punishing and, before you know it, you’re spasming around his fingers. he should stop there, but he continues with little kitten licks until you’re begging him to show you mercy.
he reluctantly parts from your cunt and you can see evidence of your release dripping down his chin. his messy hair, his soaked face, his fucking everything looks like it’s been branded by you and you can’t help but gulp, heat pooling in your stomach again, far too soon after your intense orgasm. usually, a man would wipe his face and clean himself up, but he does nothing of the sort as he leans towards you and practically pleads with you to kiss him.
“so good, want you to taste it,” he says simply as he pulls you in for another filthy kiss. he looks possessed, almost, by your taste. by your scent. by you.
your cum mixed with the taste of beomgyu himself is like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. he wraps his tongue around yours, as if he’s selflessly just trying to share this new discovery.
he unbuckles his own pants like a madman, hastily yanking them down. so hypnotized, he doesn’t even think to take them off all the way, nevermind his shirt. his cock springs up and it’s thick and long, the angry veins juxtaposing from his perfect, doll-like face. he was right. you don’t know how he’ll fit in your tight pussy.
still, he ruts his bare cock against your throbbing cunt and you both moan when it accidentally catches against your entrance.
“c-condom?” you ask breathily.
“p-please, please just let me feel you. i can pull out,” he whines. who are you to say no to a man begging?
“...o-okay,” you begin to choke out, and almost before you can even finish, he’s pushing himself in. you both groan at the feeling. he meets resistance before he’s even halfway in and his eyes redden with a lust so strong it almost scares you.
“s-so tight, so perfect for me,” he says before pulling out and harshly ramming himself back in, sheathing himself completely in you. your eyes begin to sting with pure pleasure. he sits for a moment, just enjoying the way your pussy sucks him in. nothing in your life has ever made you feel this heavenly. not that you’re going to heaven, especially after this, and certainly not if hana has anything to say about it. oh my god, hana.
“w-wait,” you interrupt before he can pull out again. “we can’t! hana—”
“don’t give a fuck about hana. j-jus’ want you,” he slurs with that lisp that you love so much. and that’s when he really starts. ruthlessly, he sets his pace. ramming into you as the filthy sounds of skin against skin and slick against slick permeate the room. his head lulls back in sheer ecstasy and you’re crying out his name over and over, like a mantra. it’s the only thing chaining you to reality. that, and his viselike grip on your thighs.
“so g-good, so warm. never h-had a pussy this good before,” he praises as he continues drilling into you. one of his hands snakes its way to your clit and you’re seeing stars. hot tears spring in your eyes and you’re literally crying as his cock pushes you further and further off the deep end.
“so fucking good for me. you wouldn't even care if i came inside, would you, slut? walking around in that tiny dress, just begging to be fucked.”
“n-no! i’m not begging f-for anything,” you manage to choke out.
“really? but you look pretty fucking desperate right now. should i stop?” he asks with a mean smile, slowing down the speed of his hips snapping into yours.
“please don’t! i-i’m sorry. please don’t stop!” you whimper. he wasn’t gonna stop, anyway, but watching tears pour out of your eyes at the mere thought of his cock not being inside of you brings him to another level of smugness.
“shh, it’s okay, baby. i won’t stop. i’ll give you exactly what you need.”
“b-beomie!” you cry. “not gonna last much longer!”
“me neither, pretty girl. fuck, come with me, okay?” he hisses.
“come inside?” you plead. he almost stills at this, but his brutal pace never stops despite it all.
“fuck! i knew that good girl act was a sham. you want me to get you pregnant so everyone knows who you belong to?”
“yes! d-don’t care. just want you,” you whine, mirroring his words from earlier. that’s enough to make him lose himself. his resolve snaps and he’s painting the inside of your walls while you helplessly clench around him. it takes a minute to catch your breath and you can’t help but lock eyes with beomgyu as he stays buried in your warmth. his gaze is still lustful, that much you know, but there’s an unknown feeling teeming in his eyes, too.
gingerly, he pulls out and you both watch as his cum trickles out of you. his eyes are alight with fascination and you don’t doubt for a second that he wants to lap it all up and feed it right back to you, but he doesn’t. he simply grabs your cheeks and pulls you in for another heavy kiss.
“wanted to do this for so long,” he says after you part.
“how long?” you can’t help but ask.
“since i saw you sitting alone at the café,” he shrugs and smiles shyly. he’s wanted you since he first saw you, which is enough to make you grin, but the blissful smile is wiped off of your face when you remember beomgyu isn’t just some random guy who’s attracted to you. he’s hana’s boyfriend.
you know now that she orchestrated the downfall of your relationship with beomgyu, but that doesn’t mean you don’t feel guilty as hell for fucking her boyfriend on her couch. oh my god, what have you done? you fucked your friend’s boyfriend in her own home. not only that, but you fucked raw and even let him come inside. you shiver when you recount his nasty words about getting you pregnant, and he really might’ve. you’re not on the pill or anything. oh god.
“i-i need to get out of here,” you say frantically. you hurriedly push him off of you and wince when you feel his cum leaking out of your cunt. you stumble to the bedroom, legs still weak from what just transpired, and grab your sweats and snake them back on.
“what are you doing?” beomgyu asks, confused and somewhat annoyed that you’ve effectively ruined the mood.
“i’m getting the fuck out of here. this… this whole thing was a mistake,” you say, on the verge of tears. you don't even deserve to cry, honestly, but you want to, anyway.
“a-a mistake? why? wait, don’t go!” he says, stepping in front of you again.
“beomgyu, are you fucking with me? you’re with hana! why wouldn’t this be a mistake? oh my god, and i-i’m not — i don’t take birth control. we really might’ve… fuck just move, please!” you plead. you think you might be on the verge of a panic attack, tears and snot streaming down your face. you just wish he would fucking move so you could get out of here and start fixing everything because the guilt you feel just by seeing his face is all-consuming. there’s no way you can face hana again after this. you’ll cut her out of your life, and when you’re courageous enough, you’ll tell her what you did to her. you’ll lose hana and all the rest of your friends once they hear about what kind of person you really are. and as for beomgyu, well, knowing hana, she’ll stay with him and you’ll be the homewrecker in this story.
“hey, shh, it’s okay,” beomgyu coos softly, taking your tear-streaked face in his big, warm hands. “talk to me. what are you thinking?” “i… i ruined everything,” you begin with a sob. “i hurt hana. you hurt hana. a-and everybody’s going to be so fucking mad at me. god, she’s never going to forgive me.”
“listen,” he says softly while rubbing the pads of his thumbs against the tears falling down your cheeks. “she lied to you, and she lied to me, too.”
“because she loves you, beomgyu. she only did it because she loves you so much,” you argue, tearing your face from his grasp, but he only locks his arms around your waist instead.
“and what about me? what about how i feel?”
“what are you trying to say?” you sniffle.
“i’m saying i meant it when i said i don’t give a fuck about hana. i’m sorry, but i don’t. i never did,” he says as if he’s coaxing a child. you want to believe his words so fucking badly, but you’ve seen the way they’ve been attached at the hip these past few months and you can’t help but feel like he’s just a) full of shit and/or b) pussydrunk on you. he can sense your apprehension and wants to tear his own hair out in frustration.
“can i be honest with you?” he asks.
you nod in response.
“i… i only started hanging out with her because i knew she was close to you. i don’t know if it’s because i wanted to get back at you or if i just wanted to see you more. maybe a bit of both, honestly. i-i know that’s wrong, but it’s true.” you’re at a loss for words. all you can ask is:
“why?” he chuckles at this.
“because i like you, dummy,” he says sweetly while releasing one of the hands that grips your waist, using it to fix up your hair. he likes you? the same beomgyu who has effectively harassed you for the past few months… likes you?
“you have a fucking hilarious way of showing it. i thought you hated me,” you retort.
“i was just teasing,” he says softly. “i just wanted you to notice me and nothing i did ever seemed to bother you.”
“well, it did,” you scoff.
“i’m sorry,” he says sheepishly. “i just like you a lot, okay? i’m sorry for being an asshole. and i’ll make it up to you, i promise.” you want to say okay, but the fact remains that he’s still very much hana’s boyfriend. regardless of his feelings, you still betrayed her and your friends aren’t going to be very understanding of your situation with him. the only chance you have of retaining your friendships now is to cut beomgyu off and beg on your knees for forgiveness. but you like him. you really, really like him. and the temptation to relent is even stronger as he begins to plant kisses on your face along with promises to dump her and, in his words, to “be good from now on”. when his innocent kisses turn lustful and begin to trail down your neck, what else can you do besides agree?
notes pt. 2: so...? i hope this was okay i really do LMFAOO. i have no idea how this will be received. if it's bad, i might delete it because i truly don't know what i'm doing. anyway, feedback is always appreciated! it gives me the confidence to branch out like this so i'd love to hear from y'all :)
permanent taglist*: @my313 @superbbananananana @lonelybutterflytae @cherrycolaberry @everythingvirgoes @beomnoullitheorem @sunny4cast
*minors and ageless blogs on my permanent taglist were not added for obvious reasons. i made the taglist before i decided to make supermodel smut, so if you would like to be removed from this or any future smut works, please message me!
#niningtori#mdni#supermodel#txt angst#beomgyu angst#beomgyu#txt beomgyu#beomgyu x reader#beomgyu x you#beomgyu fic#beomgyu hard thoughts#beomgyu hard hours#beomgyu smut#txt#txt fic#tomorrow x together#txt imagines#txt scenarios#txt headcanons#beomgyu imagines#beomgyu scenarios#beomgyu headcanons#txt smut#txt hard hours#txt hard thoughts#nini's hard hours
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airport crush ellie williams drabble
read this
cw: none?? js cuteness and v poor writting.
u are both coming back for school after spring break? she had missed her friends and dad. for u, u js wanted to take ur summer clothes to uni.
this cute girl stares at u in line for the boarding... are u actually gonna be sitting in the same plane as her? she might faint!!! mmm she's staring and u can feel her green eyes burning the back of your neck so u turn around and she TRIES to be subtle and look somewhere else. u fucking grin, she's lowkey scared of u... u are sooo pretty!!! someone help her!!!
u are both getting on the plane and she doesn't know if she wants u to sit next her or if that's the last thing she wants... but naturally, since u are soooo lucky u got sat in the front line next to an arrogant lil man and his teenage son. how lovely!!! ellie on the other hand, got sat next to A MOTHER W A BABY??? god it was boutta be a flight.
when u looked around, she looked at u as if ud known each other for ages and mouthed "save me" so u mouthed "save me" god u hadn't even said hi to each other, she was embarrassed but... u went along w it so.
u were thinking, and sure the mother was comfortable back there but u remembered when ur aunt had ur cousin she asked to sit at the front lines. when ellie saw u getting up her eyes shined, like actually, she looked like an anime character right there. u fought ur awkwardness and started talking to the mother sat next to ellie.
"excuse me, would u wanna sit in first line? there's much more space for u and ur baby's stuff. u'd probably be way more comfortable." oh, u were such a sweetheart, ellie is inlove w u already.
the lady actually took the offer. she thanked u and gave u a lil shoulder caress. u both exchanged seats and well everyone's happy i guess!
not everyone, ellie's scared.
she's sat next to this sweet caring selfless girl, who happens to be soooo sooo soooooo pretty. she's terrified and she thinks she might be feeling more than js butterflies in her stomach.
"hi..." she mutters. "saved us both right there."
"sure did." u smiled, putting ur seat belt on, she forgot those... she started putting it on immediately. u chuckled and told her ur name.
"that's pretty, i'm williams, i mean, i'm ellie williams. mmm erm, just ellie." she, is, adorable.
"that's real long and pretty." she dropped her head in embarrassment. "where are u going, ellie?"
she coughed and started talking about going back to college and u kinda yelled "same!", bro why was this convo the most embarrassing ever?(,#&@&@ turns outtttttt u went to the same college!!! wowza...
"no way." she deadpaned.
"yes way, ellie..." u giggled and so did she.
u 2 talked ab ur majors and shit, nothing crazy but ellie was js so cutesy likeeee omg she's so awkward she's kind of a nerd :((( she tried acting cool tho but u were js so pretty and nice she got shy.
she couldn't believe u actually fell asleep while u 2 watched the exact same movie on ur tiny screens... 30m in. she had js met u and she got the honor of seeing u peacefully sleeping. u were outrageously embarrassed when u woke up at the end of the flight tho.
ellie asked for ur number before u even left the plane, thinking you'd would say goodbye then. but... u still had to go all the way out of the airport and grab a taxi. it was awkwardly silent, saying bye and walking side by side for like 6 minutes before she got closer and said "i guess not goodbye." what kind of sentence is that???
u talked ab music and u found out ellie played guitar, u were so happy ab it?? she didn't get why but she felt cool and mentioned she had her own songs and u beggedddddd to listen to them. bro she js thought u were so attractive SOMEONE SHOOT HERRRRR RN. u thought the exact same... like... u play guitar AND write ur own songs??
talked and talked until u both found a taxi, because when she found one, she decided to leave it for u but u wanted her to have it, so u both idiots let someone else have it and waited till 2 taxis were available??^÷×&*!*@
after getting home u waited for a text from her, dying to hear from her. you got it!!!
#ellie williams#ellie x reader#ellie williams x reader#ellie tlou2#ellie williams x female reader#ellie x fem reader#lover girl!ellie#ellie imagine#ellie x masc reader
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casual [iii]
"i hate that i let this drag on so long, now i hate myself, hate that i let this drag on so long, you can go to hell"
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pairing: natalie scatorccio x reader
summary: you're not just going to let her go, this time. after long enough, you arrive at the very obvious conclusion that you're in love, and there's very little else to be done about that
warnings: mentions of sex, cuss words, a bit of angst but i promise a happy ending :)
word count: 7.2k
A/N: all good things must come to an end. trust, i'll write for nat again. also i stayed in that airport so fucking long it was like purgatory, and i'm so sorry it took longer than i thought, i've had an exhausting past two weeks and just needed to stop and breathe for a minute
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THAT ONE ANON I FEEL BAD I'M LATE
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===+++===
"Please tell me you didn't do it on my sheets," Lottie groaned, lip curled in disgust and eyes hidden by her sunglasses.
"Sorry," you said back from behind your own pair, without looking away from the crystal blue of her pool water. You both were splayed out on her sun-bleached deck chairs, with matching hangovers (and bathrobes) that made the bright, beaming sunlight a whole new level of awful.
Her house was in disarray around you both, with crushed beer cans and overturned chairs all across the pool deck. Some cigarette butts floated in the water and you were certain the sprinklers in her garden were misting a pile of vomit and washing it down the front of her lawn, but neither of you made a move to get up and deal with it yet.
At the far end of the Matthews' pool, there was a statue of a mermaid that doubled as a fountain, spitting water in a gentle stream. Someone had put a snapback that said 'I <3 BOOBIES' on her and a bit of lipstick around the area that water shot out, and though usually you would have laughed, you instead were a bit annoyed by how it was taking you out of what would've been a nice scene.
There was just something about waking up and seeing Nat had gone without any sort of indication, that sparked the sudden urge within you to reconnect with nature. So you were reconnecting— more like brooding— on Lottie's pool deck in a peaceful silence.
After what felt like thirty minutes but was probably more like five, she turned to you. "Do you wanna—”
“—Talk about it?” you finished, raising your eyebrows. You shook your head. “No.”
She pouted. “I was gonna ask if you wanted to make pancakes.”
“Oh… then yes.”
You both lazily trudged into her equally wrecked kitchen, with even more cans and spilled liquids thrown over her marble counters. There was a burnt bag of popcorn sitting in the sink and the garbage can underneath it was overflowing with paper towels, but Lottie's kitchen was big enough where you could ignore it entirely, jumping up to sit on the clean countertop near her massive range cooker.
When Lottie said 'make pancakes,' she really meant she would be the one cooking and you would be there for moral support, if anything. You were gifted in many things but cooking or anything of the sort had never been one of them. Instead you leaned your head against the massive stone hood, and watched her from the pair of sunglasses you still wore.
Nat had laughed at you, when you said you didn't know how to cook. Not an omelette, not mac and cheese, and barely a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Of course, you assumed the last one wouldn't be hard to figure out, but you hadn't ever made one before, and it made her laugh into your chest, where her head had been resting. It hurt a bit now, but you had the sunglasses to shield your eyes while you stared off into space.
"Chocolate chips?" Lottie asked, running a hand through her dark hair and combing out a few knots with her fingers. You nodded, and she turned back to the pan in front of her, grabbing a fancy looking bag from a stack of supplies nearby. "My dad brought fresh chocolate back with him from when he was in the Caribbean a few weeks ago," she said to you, sprinkling it into the pan and flipping it over.
"Is he going to be pissed you're using it for pancakes?" you mumbled, feeling your headache return.
"No more pissed than he'll be when he sees that Jeff and his friends cut off the leg on one of his horse-shaped hedges." You winced, hopping down from the counter and feeling your back still scraped raw from, well, Nat. Lottie shot you a look. "That heated, huh?"
You rolled your eyes, heading towards the kitchen island and grabbing some of the beer cans to toss in the rubbish. "She's made her decision clear. I'm honestly done with it. I don't care anymore."
Lottie didn't say anything, turning back to the pancakes and sliding them on a plate as you slid into the barstool at the other end of her island and rested your head on your elbows. "I mean, she called me selfish, Lottie, and then said she loved me multiple times, minutes later. Who the hell does that?"
"Mhm," she hummed, sticking her spatula and the pan in the sink and then moving to the walk in pantry to grab syrup and powdered sugar.
You watched her go, calling after her. "She disappears for days after she gets mad about me talking to people, and then I see her immediately with Bobby Farleigh of all people, and they're cuddling up! I'm done with it all."
"Okay," Lottie said, reappearing with her arms full and tossing them down on the kitchen island. She clambered up into the seat next to you and stole some of the plain ones for herself, before covering them in syrup.
"And," you continued, remembering something else as you began cutting up the pancakes and smothering them in powdered sugar, "she egged my fucking house! How could I even forget about that? I mean, what was I thinking? I don't want to talk about her."
"Oh yeah," Lottie snorted. "You really don't want to talk about her."
You shot her a glare, stuffing your mouth with an angry fork. "I'm serious, Lottie."
"You wish," she scoffed. "If you were serious— and I'm not trying to be mean— but if you were serious, you wouldn't be ranting all about her. I know you keep saying it's impossible and it can't happen with her, but you sure as hell seem like you want it to happen with her."
You frowned, taking a forkful and stuffing it into your mouth. Right as you did, a couple sheepishly walked down the hall and towards the front door, clothes obviously messed up. They sent you an awkward wave and Lottie gave a quick nod in their direction, turning back to her plate. "Then why'd she leave?" you asked, when the door was shut behind them.
She shrugged. "Why the hell would I know? If anyone here would be the Natalie-whisperer, it would be you."
"Yeah well, apparently not," you huffed, shoving more pancakes into your mouth.
"I mean, it's not like you guys were on glowing terms before you... y'know. Wasn't gonna magically all be fixed, after." You groaned, leaning your forehead down onto the cool marble countertops. It actually felt nice, against your raging headache, but you still felt like crap.
"Would've at least been nice for her to wait until I woke up to go. No 'goodbye,' no 'we should talk,' nothing. When we were just hooking up and stuff, I at least always waited to say goodbye."
"So it's not just hooking up, anymore?"
"I don’t know what it is, Lottie. You tell me, because apparently everyone knows but me." She shrugged, finishing her plate and pushing it away from herself.
"I have an answer, but you're not gonna like it."
"...No, I'm not in love with her."
"You absolutely are."
"I'm done with this!"
"You keep saying that."
"'Cause I am."
"Okay."
"I'm done," you frowned, attempting finality in your tone and coming far short.
"Right," she snorted, and then she stood to grab your now-finished plate too. "Can you help me?”
It took around three hours, to get the Matthews house back to its usual formality. You sprayed burnt and disturbed bushes with the hose, threw out bag upon bag of party rubbish, and vacuumed cigarette butts off the carpet of her living room, silently working while Lottie played some records on her grandfather's old gramophone.
Her dad usually put jazz records on it or snooty classical music, whenever you were over, but Lottie had Dancing Queen blasting throughout her house and was hopping around as she snatched stuff off the mantle and shoved it into bags, turning to you and yelling a lyric from time to time, along to the music.
This wasn't your idea of fun by a long shot, but you could appreciate Lottie trying to make it fun.
"So, how much convincing did you have to do, to get Laura Lee here at a party? I mean, with the alcohol," you asked with a snort, grabbing an almost empty bag of crisps and tossing yourself down in her father's leather armchair to finish them off.
Lottie flushed. "A really embarrassing amount," she admitted. "I kind of glazed over that part."
"I'll bet she was surprised?" you asked with an amused crunch.
"It wasn't even that— this guy from my third period started going at it with this girl right in front her. I had to literally stop her from going over there to talk to them about waiting until marriage."
You shrugged. "I mean, she seems to like you a whole lot."
"She does," Lottie nodded. "She's so sweet to me, and she has the best hand to hold, like, ever."
"Honestly, I'm surprised, but happy for you. You're in a big ol' throuple with Jesus Christ."
"Ha ha," Lottie rolled her eyes, sticking her tongue out at you. "At least whatever we have is holy. I don't even want to think about you and—"
But whatever dig she would've said was cut off by her doorbell ringing. You sighed, letting your feet down from where you had propped them up on the side table and wiping the crumbs on your bathrobe.
"I'll get it," you grumbled, leaving Lottie to clean. When you opened the door there was absolutely no way you could've prepared to see her so soon.
Nat stood awkwardly in the entryway, looking just as surprised to see you as you were to see her. She wore a pair of blue shorts she practiced and slept in, and staring right back at you was the shirt you thought had gone missing weeks ago, barely hidden behind the ratty zip up hoodie she had over it.
Her eyeliner was still smudged from the night before in places, and you stared at her blankly, waiting for her to say something— anything, really.
"I forgot my damn lighter," she said, casting her eyes to the floor after a moment.
"Oh," you replied, feeling a bit stupid suddenly, in your bathrobe and sunglasses, with your flip flops for shoes. You looked like you were mid-spa day, or like someone's drunk uncle on a cruise. Then, before you could stop yourself, you felt an annoyance twinge in your gut, and said "Is that all you've got to say?"
Her eyes shot up, looking challengingly at you, in what was a clear frustration. "What do you want me to say?" But the answer went unsaid, even as much as you didn't like it. That you came back for me.
"I don't know..."
"Great," Nat scoffed. She looked over your shoulder into Lottie's house, as if her lighter would appear behind you and jump right into her hand, and she would just be able to leave. "Can I just have my—"
"—Why did you egg my house?" you shot back, crossing your arms over your chest, trying to block the door a bit more. She raised her eyebrows at you, confused.
"What?"
"You egged my house, after our argument," you repeated, slower, feeling the tips of your ears burning.
"No the hell I didn't."
"Yes the hell you did," you argued back, leaning forward with your hands on your hips. "You're the only one with the gate code. I get it, you were mad, but—"
"—Fucking Christ, I didn't!"
"You wrote a giant 'fuck you' on my house. No one else would."
Nat glared. "I didn't invent it. Is it such an impossible thing for you to consider that maybe not everyone is Team (Y/n)? I don't mean to break your brain, but for once somebody might actually dislike you."
You rolled your eyes. "You're the only one with a history of breaking rules and doing shit."
"So, what, you think I would do that to you?"
"Maybe you would. Maybe you don't care about me at all. That's why you ran off, wasn't it?"
She narrowed her eyes at you. "I had to go, before my dad caught me out."
You shook your head. "Bullshit. You've stayed out, before."
"Oh, so now you're mad that I'm not cuddling up to you?"
"That's not cuddling, that's having me stick my fingers in you and then you run off. You were pissed at me a few days before, Nat, for literally the same thing."
"It's almost like it's confusing, (Y/n), when you get mixed signals. And no, I got pissed at you because you went shopping for girlfriends— which, I'm assuming because you're being an oblivious, self-righteous asshole, you're still doing."
"Yep, still looking," you glared at her. She glared right back, just as steely.
"Great."
"Great," you replied. It was annoying, how good she looked when she was frustrated. She was great at looking mad, and even better at looking good when she was mad. The furrowing of her eyebrows, wrinkling of her nose in anger; she had the face you wanted to kiss away. It was impossible not to wonder, if doing so would uncurl her fists and smooth out the lines on her forehead.
Then you stopped. Holy shit. Everything seemed awful, like a massive case of vertigo had just washed over you. You had had hangovers before, but this somehow seemed infinitely worse. See, a thought had finally self-realised itself within your little peanut brain.
I'm in love with Nat.
It made the ceiling feel like the floor, and Nat sent you a concerned glance and seemed about to question your change in expression, when Lottie came from behind you.
"Hey, Nat," she said with an awkward smile, brushing past you with a look and then handing her the lighter quickly. "Excited for nationals?”
"Yeah," Nat nodded, but her eyes were still glaring at you. She cleared her throat, finally looking off. "Thanks, Lot. Great party."
"Mhm," Lottie nodded, trying her best to seem at ease and not at all like she was walking in on a code-red situation. "Have a great weekend! Bye now! Get home safe! See you!" She rushed, tugging you from beyond the doorway and giving a wave, before shutting the door.
The moment the door was closed, she gave you an unappreciative stare, but your eyes were wide and your cheeks flushed.
"What?" asked Lottie, her eyebrows furrowed with concern.
"I...I think I'm in love with her."
===+++===
Your home was just as empty as it was when you had left the night before. Reginald wasn't even due to come in, since your mother and father weren't home and it was a Saturday. Even the groundskeeper and maid had the day off, and the groan you let out at finally returning home and falling onto the warm rug on your living room floor echoed against the walls of your empty house.
In your hand was the letter you found in your mailbox. A cool black and Princeton-orange colour. You already knew what it said, without even looking into it. Your father and mother went there. His father and mother, too. For years and years and years. And now, if you followed the rules set out in front of you, you too.
It was impossible not to wonder, when the fog of privilege would slowly cloud your brain. Would it be the law degree from a private school, or legacy admissions? The more frightening thing was that maybe Nat was right: it had already set in, and you unaware. You at least felt different than the rest of them. That made you different, right? You and Lottie?
The image of Nat seemed ever-prevalent. Glowering at you, like she had been in the doorway. In your shirt. With that frown. The frown that you wanted to kiss away, but would never be able to. A Scatorccio, of all people. Of all people, you had to be in love with the one person you couldn't have.
It felt simultaneously like life had resolved into something more clear and understandable, and something more depressing and doomed. You wanted to forget the realisation, and the acceptance as well. Maybe it was truly better when you were promising your friends that you felt nothing of the sort.
Your eyes flitted from where they stared at the ceiling over to the giant brown bookcase in the corner, stacked high with thick volumes of what your dad had once said were family records, but you had never grabbed one off yourself. The one that stuck out against the brown leather-bound books was a more sleek, grey memoir with your grandfather’s name printed onto the hard cover casing.
That one you had read— your father had made you read it, when you were fourteen, and your parents gave up on trying for another kid. It wasn’t as dreadfully boring as you thought it would be, but it was still a memoir about a stuffy stockbroker from the 80s, with all the parts involving cocaine conveniently edited out, but not your grandfather’s insane escapades with women.
Your father was in the process of writing his own edition, and had thereby implied that he expected you to write one for yourself. You didn't know what you could possibly write about, but then again there was the expectation you write about it anyway. You weren't a guy on Wall Street, you weren't an international businessperson. You didn't even know what you were going to school for, yet.
Next to the bookshelf in equal intimidation was a painting of your family that your father had commissioned years ago. It was back when you still had braces and acne, but thankfully the artist had removed both. You hadn't been allowed to smile for it, though that's what child-you thought you did for pictures. Instead, you and your parents' mouths were drawn into disapproving lines and hardened expressions, and the golden plaque at the bottom wore your surname in proud, powerful letters.
You sighed, sitting up onto the palms of your hands and then standing slowly, still a bit uncoordinated. You sent the painting a final glance before you wandered to the phone, grabbing the thing and checking your watch while you did it. You slumped down into the seat at the end of your dining room table, where your father usually sat, and pulled the antenna from the top, punching in the numbers absentmindedly as you stared out the window onto the garden and the pool.
The number was for your father's Monaco residence, and you waited with a jumping knee and wry expression while it rang. Eventually, though, your mother picked up. "Hello?"
"Hello, mother."
(Y/n), darling, is something wrong? You know to call Reginald first, in case of emer—"
"—No, nothing is wrong, mother. Look, I actually wanted to ask you a question."
"Well, go on then. We're about to go out to dinner."
"...Mother, do you have Julie Roosevelt's number?"
Silence on the end of the line. "Absolutely!" You didn't need to be there with her to hear the smile in her voice. "What for?"
You swallowed. "I think I'll try to take her out tonight."
"Well! Darling, that's just wonderful!" You nodded into the receiver, not like she could see it. "Make sure to wear your nice shirt, we don't want to upset the Roosevelts! I hope you know, I'm proud of you for this, really." You almost mentioned getting accepted into Princeton. Almost. But you decided not to mention it. It wasn't like you wanted to think about it anyways.
From the far wall, you could see the painting of the woman with the blue eyes staring at you.
===+++===
The local mini golf was always busy, but Saturdays were absolutely the busiest. There were couples upon couples who had the exact same idea, and were wandering around with their hands together and beaming at one another like they were living in a rom-com in the real life.
And yet you stood there with your hand in Julie Roosevelt's, and a massive frown on your face. It wasn't one that you'd let Julie see— every time she glanced in your direction, you'd quickly replace it with your best smile, showing her your teeth— but it was one that you knew you wore when she turned away.
"Sorry about the late notice," you said. You dropped her hand and went to grab a putter from the front, handing it to her and then grabbing one for yourself.
"It's okay, I was wondering if you were ever going to talk to me again," Julie laughed, a bit awkward. You winced. It's not like you could be honest, and say that you didn't intend to. The truth was, that while Julie was a bit shallow, she was also a bit too nice to deserve this one-sided thing.
Of course, there was the hope that you grew the love your mother spoke of. Maybe it would hit you, and alleviate you from Nat, who seemed to haunt your thoughts even more now, that you were aware she had captured your heart.
"I was just busy, this past week," you shrugged. "It's kind of a big deal for the Yellowjackets, and both of the teams are practicing and stuff...so."
"Wow. I guess you really like the Yellowjackets then, huh?"
"Uh...something like that, yeah. It's a big deal." She hummed, then took her things out onto the first green.
You let her go, standing behind her and watching with a grin and the scorecard in your pocket. Mini golf was something you took pride in being good at. But, then, of course, Julie let the ball drop, took a second, and gently hit the ball around the bend with a near perfect curve, and right into the hole.
"Yay!" she cheered, jumping up and down in celebration.
"Wha—"
Julie put her hands on her hips with a teasing grin. "Captain of the golf team, remember?" You hadn't.
"Right..."
You played a terrible game, for the most part. You stood at the end of the second-to-last hole with the scorecard in your hand and a whole bunch of big numbers on your side of the table. Julie was beaming from ear to ear, though you weren't exactly sure why.
It had been pretty much silent, with the two of you failing over and over again to find an interesting thing to talk about. It wasn't the calm, pleasant silence like it was with... well, it didn't matter now. You filled in a four, two shots over the par, and made your way over to where Julie was crouching down, to get a better view of the final hole.
"Actually wait, there's a special way you have to play this one," you called out to her, and she turned to you with a puzzled expression.
"What do you mean?"
"It's kind of local tradition here," you shrugged. You weren't even sure if that was true, you just knew that it was what Nat had called it, when she taught you. "You have to swing really, really hard, and to win, you've gotta get it over the fence," you pointed, "and right into the back of that neighbourhood."
She blinked at you for a moment, and then Julie frowned, looking down to the ground. "That's mean, though. What if you hit someone's house? Or a window?"
"Bonus points," you shrugged. "I don't know, you can't really see where they go, once they're over the fence. It's fun."
Julie raised her eyebrows. "Don't you think it's a little immature? Why would I do that if I'm going to win for real?"
You opened your mouth to reply, then firmly closed it. "I guess you're right," you mumbled. It hadn't felt stupid when you suggested it, but Julie's disdain at the suggestion made you feel improper.
She did win, by a massive landslide, and you let her keep the scorecard with little protest. She was still beaming though, brightly at you like she had just had the best date of her life. Your stomach felt like it was tied up in a bunch of knots, but you smiled back at her nonetheless.
If love was something to be worked towards, you really hoped it would start working soon.
===+++===
You had only been home for about twenty minutes, when your phone started ringing. Off the hook. Over and over again. You knew who it was just from the ring, but that didn't mean you wanted to pick up.
After the disaster that was dropping Julie off at her house, you wanted to continue to staring at the ceiling. But after the sixth call back, it seemed Jackie wasn't giving up.
You picked the phone up with a frown, rolling over and smushing your chin into the bed. "Hello—"
"—OH MY GOD, YOU AND JULIE?!"
You groaned. "Jackie I dropped her off like thirty minutes ago, how do you already know about this?"
"So it's true?! You're dating?"
You sat up. "What? No, we just went on one date."
"Really? Cause Julie told Margie who told Randy who told Jeff, who told me that you kissed her and you're going out!"
You pinched the bridge of your nose. "I didn't kiss her, she kissed me. And it wasn't even like an actual kiss, she like, pecked me, and then scrambled out of my car and up her driveway."
"Well, she's saying you're going steady."
"'Going steady?' The 40s called, they wanted their slang back."
"Ha ha," Jackie said back, and you could hear the eye roll. She went silent. "...I bet your mom is happy."
"Probably..."
"Are you happy? You're probably a shoe-in for prom court, especially since I'll be out of town. Your mom won't let you go to nationals, will she?"
"No. She'll want me and Julie to go to prom together."
"Well, I mean, at least you'll win, right? That's gotta be exciting?"
You looked over to your nightstand, where you had a polaroid of you and Nat that sat taped to the side. "Thrilled."
"(Y/n)? You okay, hubby?"
You took a sharp swallow. "Yeah, I'm fine. Julie's great."
"Right...," she paused again, "does Nat...does she know?"
"I don't think so... It's only been like, thirty minutes."
"She will soon, though. Monday."
"Yeah...I guess she will soon."
===+++===
Monday was terrible. It seemed Julie had taken the awkward attempt at kissing you as the sign that you were together. She was there at your car when you first arrived, grinning again while you and Lottie got your things for school out of the second row. Then, the moment you had locked your car, you were tugged along by a hand grabbing yours.
You didn't exactly have a good reason to be grossed out. Julie was beautiful, and if you had felt the same way for her, you would have been thrilled with the enthusiasm. Hell, if it were... well. So, you mostly let her drag you wherever she wanted.
There was about a week, to run for prom court. Your mother had promptly called you that morning to insist on prom, and insist on shopping for prom, when she returned home on Wednesday, from Monaco. It was all Julie would talk about, and you were starting to wonder how much of this was a political move for her too, rather than one of genuine interest in you.
You first saw Nat coming down one of the halls, and you hesitated a bit the moment you saw that she noticed you. Or, that she noticed you and Julie together. It was the walk of shame, frankly. You didn't belong to her, in any formal sense. But your heart did, and that was enough for it to hurt. Badly.
It seemed to hurt her too. She immediately frowned, tugging on Kevyn's sleeve and walking in the opposite direction. You wanted to run after her, but Julie had an iron grip on your hand and a smile so bright.
It was awkward enough at lunch, with Julie insisting to sit next to you and to bring her golf friends. A few of them were nice, and Jackie managed to chat them up well enough to make even more friends than before, but Lottie had a frown the entire time, and Shauna looked less than happy.
Nat wasn't staring at you at lunch anymore. It was a startling realisation, that you wanted her to be looking at you. If anything, you were looking more at her. You kept turning around, trying to seem like you were just scanning the cafeteria, but Nat was firmly looking down at her food, at the same table as always.
You felt like a runaway dog that had temporarily shrugged off its collar, trying to find home with a tail between its legs. Julie was nice, and smart, and talented. But she wasn't the one. Your one.
===+++===
"Hey, you ready?" you asked Lottie, finding her out in the hallway in front of the locker rooms. it was Friday, and you both had your soccer bags slung over your shoulder, and were about to head out to practice, but Lottie seemed transfixed on a poster on the wall. "Hey now, you've got nationals tomorrow, no distractions," you tried.
"Is she seriously trying to make it seem like you two are soulmates?" Lottie said with a grimace. It was one of the ones Julie had made in two days, and was now putting all over the school to really earn you both the win. There was a drawing of you and her on it, with a heart in the middle, and 'VOTE JULIE & (Y/N) FOR PROM COURT 1996.' It was an objectively good design, but Lottie didn't like Julie very much— or at least had started to hate her, the longer you and her were together.
"I think it's because she has a crush on you," Julie said once with a pout, after Lottie had been less than welcoming to her on a ride home.
"No she doesn't," you shook your head.
"She definitely does. You shouldn't hang out with her as much, or people will think you and her are a thing. I mean, I did at first."
The whole conversation had only made Lottie more and more annoyed with her, and that was saying a lot, with how Lottie was usually nice to most people.
"Come on," you said, gesturing with your head out towards the pitch. "Last practice before nationals."
Lottie still had a frown on her face, but she followed you out there with her arms crossed. It was still relatively early, only a few people were out. Coach Martinez's son Travis was up in the bleachers, watching, while you could see Trevor and Misty talking next to the water cooler and Jeremy and Mari passing a ball back and forth to each other.
"Hey (Y/n)," a voice called from behind you, and you could feel a similar annoyance to Lottie's washing over you. You turned to see Carter Avery, back from his suspension, with a cheeky smirk on his face. "Miss me?"
"Not even close," you scowled. He brushed past you and Lottie, pausing for a moment when he was directly in front of you staring down in an attempt at intimidation. He kept walking though, until he paused, right at the edge of the pitch.
"Oh, and (Y/n)?"
"What."
"I think I need to borrow some eggs. You got any for me?" Your eyes widened. "What about toilet paper, then?"
It was intended to create anger in you. You knew he wanted you to charge at him or something, or to scowl, but all you did was stand there, in a stunned silence. You had thought that Nat would do that. That Nat could do that to you. Of course it wasn't Nat. You felt stupid and you felt guilty, and you felt even worse that you couldn't do much about either of those things. You could try, though. And maybe that would be enough.
Lottie sent you a knowing look, but all you wanted to do was curl up into a ball and die. Maybe you could try to talk to her, after practice? It was a long shot, but it was worth a try.
The Yellowjackets' moods were infectious, and it was impossible to not have a great time, at that practice. Their emotions were high, along with their excitement, and you started to feel a little bit better, the more you ran and the more you felt the wind in your hair.
Of course, that's when everything decided to go wrong. A single slide tackle from Taissa, right into Allie's leg, and everyone was panicking and yelling. You could see the bone sticking out from it, and Misty was bolting in your direction, hovering over her and attempting to right it.
"Can I get two people to carry her?" She shouted at both teams, and you immediately raised your hand, stepping forwards while Allie began to cry. You didn't even see who was grabbing her other arm until you had made it into the locker room, and Allie was still crying with Misty following behind and a very clueless looking Coach Ben behind her.
You should've known, it was her. She was selfless like that, even though she'd rather die than admit it herself. And yet, there Nat was, on the other side of Allie, laying her down on one of the locker room benches and raising her leg up. Misty ushered you both out into the hall, and suddenly both you and Nat were regretting volunteering.
You had to wait until she came out, so you would be able to carry her to the front, where the ambulance could arrive to take her to hospital, but until then it just meant you and Nat were forced to stand there in awkward silence.
It stayed that way, until you tried to speak. "So...nationals, hu—"
"Don't even," Nat snapped, shutting you up. She was twitching a little bit, in discomfort, and you knew right now that if it were outside, or if she were to have her bag, she would be pulling out a cigarette.
"...I know it wasn't you who egged my house. It was Carter... I'm...sorry."
"Real genius, aren't you."
"Allegedly. Not in practice, apparently," you admitted, sliding to the tiled floor in wait. She eyed you cautiously, but did the same, sliding down.
"Man, if I had a nickel, for every time we've been in this hallway with a serious injury... I'd have, what, two nickels?" You hummed, leaning your head back against the wall.
"That's not a lot," Nat said, rolling her eyes.
"No," you nodded in agreement, "but it's weird that it happened twice."
She thought for a minute, then shrugged. "I guess." You both could hear the whistle being blown outside, to end the final scrimmage and indicate that it was time to circle up.
"Don't you want to go hear that? Y'know, for tomorrow?"
Nat shook her head. "I'd rather be here for Allie. Though she's kind of an asshole."
You snorted. "She's a total fucking bitch."
"...Just so you know, I really did have to leave, after Lottie's party... I, uh, kissed your forehead, before I left... I guess you couldn't feel it though. You were asleep."
You shook your head. "I didn't know that..."
"...Yeah... my dad was being an asshole... it was a whole thing." You knew it hurt more than she was saying, right now, and you so desperately wanted to scoot closer, like you would've before things had gotten so messed up. Back when you were on the cusp of happiness.
"I'm sorry, Nat."
She shrugged again, like it didn't hurt, but you knew all too well. "For what?"
You would've said for being scared. For being weak. For not realising sooner. Anything. But instead you were interrupted by the sound of shoes on the tile.
Of course, there Julie had to be. She took a single look at Nat who was covered in sweat and a bit red from practice, and grimaced, before coming up to you and standing right over you, expectantly.
"Is practice over?" she asked, checking her watch. "I finished my club meeting. We have to go dress shopping— I want you there to colour match— and I need you to drop Margie off at her house, cause I said you would yesterday."
You blinked. "I mean... It kind of is? I should probably stay a bit—" you looked to Nat to see what she would say, but she was already standing up and walking off, taking the not so secret hint that Julie was telling her to get lost.
Julie watched her go, scowling behind her back and then spinning to you the moment the door clicked shut behind her. "What did she want with you?" she asked.
"We were just talking, Allie needed help."
"Well she's no good. She's one of those kids, y'know." You narrowed your eyes, getting up to your feet and wiping your hands on your shorts.
"What are you talking about?"
Julie tilted her head to the side, like she was confused by your confusion. "You must not have a lot of them, around here, but we had them all OVER, in Massachusetts. The town bicycles. Everyone wants a ride, if you know what I mean."
It was your turn to cross your arms. "No the hell I do not, Julie."
"Oh come on," she said, throwing up her hands. "She's trailer trash, at best. The delusional kind who thinks we'd look at her, like, ever. I mean, what's her body count, like over a hundred?"
"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about," you snapped at her, glowering.
"Okay, I know she's on the Yellowjackets, and she's clearly trying to get in your pants, but cmon. I'm your girlfriend, we can laugh about this kind of—"
"No, the hell you aren't. You're not my girlfriend, Julie, and you barely ever fucking were. That girl you just insulted is the best fucking person I know. She's selfless, she's kind, she makes me laugh—"
"Well then go sleep with her then!" Julie yelled, stomping her foot.
"Y'know what, I already have! And I fucking love her. So there!" And you turned right around and stomped back out onto the pitch.
===+++===
“I’m coming, I’m coming,” you rolled your eyes, trudging down the stairs and calling out into the foyer. It wasn’t like whoever it was would actually be able to hear you, through the thickness of your door, if anything it was more to air your grievance with having to get up so fucking late. Your mom was once more distraught, now that you had kept the "perfect" girl for a single week and then promptly dumped her. Another vacation was in order.
Rain was still pounding on the roof from above, and it filled the emptiness of your house with a faint white noise, that was immediately shattered by the person pressing the button again. You rolled your eyes, deciding to walk even slower to the door out of nothing but spite.
When you actually opened the door, though, you had to blink a couple times, seeing a figure retreating already, down your drive. However long you had took had made them rethink why they were here, and you would've been all too happy to let the door close. That was, until you narrowed your eyes into the rain, just barely making out the shape of a familiar leather jacket.
"Nat?" You called into the storm, loud enough that there was no way she couldn't have heard you. You crossed your arms, thinking about how she had been earlier that day. "I know it's you, Natalie. Why the fuck are you here? You have nationals tomorrow."
She stopped in her tracks, just standing in it. She gently turned, shoulders rising and falling and it was clear she was breathing heavily. Her mascara was running in massive streaks down her face and dripping in small, grey droplets, and her eyes were sensitive and red, as if she had been crying and rubbed them raw. You swallowed what felt like a lump in your throat.
"This— all of this, with you— I— I can't," she stumbled, looking like a sad, wet dog in the rain.
"What?" you furrowed your eyebrows at her, walking out further onto your large, covered doorstep.
"I can't see you with her, (Y/n), I— I just can't."
"With Julie?"
Natalie threw up her arms in frustration. "Yes, Julie. I know she's perfect, or whatever, but— I— you can't be with her—"
"—Nat," you tried, stepping forward again.
"—Because I love you," she continued. You stopped in your tracks. It felt as if the air had been sucked right out of your lungs, even in the freshness brought by the storm. "I know we argue," her voice shook, "and I know we fight, and I know I smoke, and I curse, and I get bad grades, and my dad's a shithead, and I'm kind of an asshole sometimes— but I fucking love you, (Y/n). You.... I—"
"—Shut up," you said, shaking your head and rushing forward, out into the pouring storm. You collided with her, cupping her face in your cheeks and kissing her like the world would end in ten minutes. It would have, if you hadn't done it, and you had no idea how you had survived so long without doing it.
You kissed her once, and then you kissed her again, and then, when she was crying harder, and you were crying too, and she was holding onto your arms like you would fall away, you kissed her forehead, and held her tight in a hug.
"I'm selfish, and I'm a mess, and I'm never good enough for my stupid fucking parents," you said, over the rain and just for Nat, "and I don't realise that I hurt people 'cause that's not what my family does, and for that, I'm really, really fucking sorry."
She nodded in her tears, looking up at you as you both got rained on together. "But, I agree," you said, voice shaking, "we're not casual. I'm really, really fucking sorry, but I also really, really fucking love you, Nat. And I'm sorry I was too scared and too stupid, and," you raised your voice, as if to the sky, "I DON'T WANT TO FUCKING GO TO PRINCETON—" this time it was Nat who shut you up.
It was another kiss, but it was far more gentle than the first. It was a gentle press, and it took your breath away. When you pulled apart, you let your forehead fall against Natalie's. Even though the droplets were cold, you felt so warm.
After what felt like forever, but still wasn't long enough, Nat murmured to you, "should we go inside?" She still smelled like cigarettes and her perfume, just as she had in her trailer, and you intended to let the scent linger.
You shook your head. "Just stay out here a little longer with me. Please? Just let time pass."
She nodded, then smirked as she looked past you at the car on your driveway. "Fuckin' rich people."
===+++===
AAAAAND THAT'S CASUAL BABYYYYY! Finished at like 2 am. anyways, i'm tired and a little bit sleepy
#nat scatorccio x you#nat scatorccio x reader#natalie scatorccio#natalie scatorccio x y/n#natalie scatorccio x reader#nat scatorccio#yellowjackets
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Sleeping Beauty - Jake & Tsu'tey
Part of the Sleeping Beauty Series (all stand-alone)
inspo
Pairing: Jake Sully/Fem!Reader/Tsu'tey
Word Count: 2k+
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, minors dni, somnophilia, bi!Jake, dom!Tsu'tey, unprotected p in v (wrap it, you skxawngs), biting, swearing, surprise threesome, creative use of Na'vi words to avoid saying Y/n, oral (male receive), reader gets Eiffel-towered, reader is a bit of a masochist, creampie, Tsu'tey!lives au, Tsu'tey is olo'eyktan and Jake is just Toruk Makto.
A/n: Surpriiiiise! I feel like this one isn't as long as the last but I was almost desperate to push this out. I hope it's okay.
Also, I'm not gonna keep writing a 'Na'vi Words Used' section 🙃 Google is free, and this provides a browser that helps you quickly type in a word to find out what it means. Enjoy!
Jake knew from the very beginning that you had some sort of infatuation with Tsu'tey, but you would rather die than admit it.
After all, you were with Jake, and in Na'vi terms you were mated for life. In human terms, you were married, and it made Jake extremely happy knowing that no matter what shape or form the two of you were in, you loved him no matter what and he loved you. When he decided that he wanted to pass through the Eye of Eywa and permanently transfer his subconscious into his avatar's body, you fully supported his decision. It helped that you had an avatar of your own, so you could still be a part of his world and occasionally return to yours if need be. You've only ever wanted him to be happy, and you always loved him, in and out of that damn wheelchair.
He knew you loved him, more than anything, but he catches the way you look at the clan's olo'eyktan from time to time. He knew you would never act on it. What you felt was just interest, nothing more, because you only wanted Jake at the end of the day. But then again, Jake was also just as curious as you, and if you weren't going to do anything about it, he was going to be the one to make the first step.
"Isn't she a doll? I mean, she almost is in the literal sense. A silent, inanimate object and pliable for me to play with however I want."
Tsu'tey didn't say anything in response, too caught up in watching the way Jake's large cock pushed into your squelching heat, the sound filling the kelku. The fact your avatar's body reacted according to Jake's touch without you possessing it had the Na'vi man completely transfixed from where he crouched near your head, a barely caged primal desire swimming in his yellow eyes. Watching how your lower lips, covered in your slick, spread, and pucker to stretch and accommodate Jake's unnatural size (thank you, labcoats), Tsu'tey's tail flicks with contained interest that was definitely questioning every rational thought.
He knows he shouldn't be here... but he had been thinking about this for months and not even Eywa could persuade him to look the other way after Toruk Makto was adamant about how both you and him wanted Tsu'tey.
Jake wasn't deterred by Tsu'tey's silence, knowing that if the olo'eyktan didn't want to be here, he wouldn't have followed Jake here after being invited. The two of them had gone out hunting that day and Jake thought it would be the perfect time to bring up his little... proposition.
Focusing back on the unconscious body beneath him, Jake grabs your avatar's hips with both hands and continues to gradually thrust inside of your pussy. Your body was already so tight and naturally became aroused and slicked up by the time Jake was done stretching you with his fingers. It took every ounce of self-control for him not to fuck you like an animal to his own completion when you look this enticing. Nothing was boring about your sex life, but with Tsu'tey's intimidating gaze watching his every move as Jake pumped in and out of your tight heat, something really hot and angry began to stir deep in Sully's stomach.
He lets out a punctured grunt, a wave of adrenaline coursing through him from the excitement of it all, a grin slowly plastering over his lips, glancing back up at Tsu'tey, "She lets me do this a ton, you know. She loves it. You would have never guessed she was such a minx, huh?"
Tsu'tey's ears twitch with that same intrigue, pupils further blown wide with barely contained desire, trying to ignore the growing strain of his loincloth.
Jake's grin falters for a moment when your pussy grips him tight, a groan spilling from his lips and falling open in a silent gasp as his eyebrows pinch together in pleasure. He struggles to find his words again, huffing between sentences as everything else drains to his groin, "She said she was going to link up around this time. 'Should be waking up right... about..."
The first thing that moved was your avatar's eyebrows, scrunched closely together as your eyelashes fluttered. Tsu'tey watches as a soft flush rises up your body, reaching your face just as you open your eyes, pupils blown out of proportion as a soft, quiet whimper is pulled from your lungs. Your hands instinctively fly up to graze and scratch at Jake's tight chest and tummy when you feel that familiar sensation of an approaching orgasm.
"Oh, fuuuuck..." you moan out, tilting your head back as you close your eyes once more.
A deep, low chuckle reverberates from Jake's throat while staring down at you, slowing his thrusts until he's only grinding, the friction of his pelvis against your clit sending your growing moans to ricochet throughout the marui, "Hey, baby. Glad you could join us."
"Us?" You breathlessly question, managing to catch the choice of words. Looking around, you suddenly realize you and your husband are not alone. Craning your neck up, you find a familiar Na'vi crouching above your head, your eyes widening, "Tsu'tey?"
His eyes, so hard and intimidating like the rest of his physique, always piercing into your soul... had a lilt of something else that now pierced something deep in your abdomen and caused your warm and wet walls to flutter around Jake's cock. While Jake softly curses under his breath, biting his lip to stay quiet, Tsu'tey's eyes never leave yours even as his hand brushes over his straining loincloth to try and relieve the pressure, "Sevin..."
Any initial horror or embarrassment you might have felt at the thought of another man seeing you naked and being properly fucked started to melt and drift out of your mind the moment your eyes glanced down to the olo'eyktan's crotch. You now shamelessly watch and even feel a small ping of pride as Tsu'tey's clothed cock unexpectedly jumps under your attention.
Feeling some level of satisfaction now that you understood what was going on, you quickly replaced your shock with a smug smile as your eyes turned up to Jake, "You really wanted to spice things up that badly, huh?"
The grinding immediately halted and you whine loudly from the loss of friction. Jake smirks down at you, strong hands gripping the flesh underneath your knees, "Maybe I was just tired of watching you drool after Tsu'tey without doing anything about it."
"Like you acted any better," you found yourself snarling back in the midst of your sexual frustration.
Tsu'tey surprised even himself when he scoffed in amusement, attracting the attention of the couple in front of him. With both sets of "demon" eyes on him, the Na'vi man felt a warmth swirling deep in his gut, his own eyes slowly traveling down to the spot where yours and Jake's bodies connected, almost as if he appreciated the view.
The expression on the olo'eyktan's face was not lost to Jake, who smiled with a hidden arrogance as he slowly dragged his hips back, pulling his hard cock completely out of your squelching heat, shiny from your juices, the loss of fullness forcing a broken whimper to escape your throat. Without warning, Jake grabbed your hips and flipped your over, gently smacking your ass until you got the message and moved to lean forward on your hands and knees, gasping from the sting of his hand that would definitely leave a mark in the morning.
Jake moved to press himself up against your ass, idly twirling your tail around his veiny forearm and giving it a firm tug, "Why don't you put that mouth to work for Tsu'tey if you're just going to be a smartass, huh?"
You whine, feeling so degraded, and yet your body feels like it's on fire. Keeping yourself upright on your hands and knees, you flip your hair over to one shoulder and look up at Tsu'tey through hooded eyelashes, your face flushed and your lips shining wet from rolling your tongue over them as you watch his tight loincloth begin to dampen with precum. When you peer up at the silent warrior, your eyes lock and you can't help the way your mouth gradually falls open, poking your tongue out like a welcoming invitation that makes Tsu'tey's balls tighten.
The growl that leaves his throat softly echoes throughout the marui, and your pulsating walls clench around nothing, a flutter of arousal making its presence from such a sound. Finally, Tsu'tey unties his loincloth and both you and Jake shamelessly watch his cock spring up to attention once released from its confinements. He's not as big as Jake, but he's still long with a small barb leaking precum at the tip, which flushes an angry dark purple.
He doesn't waste any more time, not when you look so enticing. He grabs a hold of your chin, harshly, and squeezes until you're forced to hold your tongue all the way out, the dominance making your belly stir. He grips his cock with his free hand, angrily pumping himself with a few, firm strokes as his dark, gold eyes keep you frozen in your spot, your spine tensing with anticipation. Tsu'tey gently slaps his leaking tip against your tongue for a moment and you bring the appendage back in your mouth, moaning at the taste of him before you roll it back out for more.
Tsu'tey looked up and met Jake's gaze, and whatever Sully saw swimming in those same orbs made the muscles in his stomach clench. You can feel Jake twitch against your entrance and you whine while pushing back against him for more, all the while keeping your mouth wide open and panting like a bitch in heat, your warm breath fanning over Tsu'tey's length. The olo'eyktan groans lowly, eyes drifting back down to you as he lines himself up, parting your lips with his tip before gradually shoving his way into your mouth.
You choke once but then immediately relax your throat, breathing deeply through your nose to try and not gag, moaning around his cock when you taste more of him. You've barely been given time to relax and breathe before Jake finally pushes his own dick back inside your pussy, filling you up in one swift motion that makes your moans rise in pitch, the vibrations turning Tsu'tey into a growling, feral creature that forces himself to remain still... for now.
Jake faintly smirks while huffing out a small moan in response to your pussy contracting around him, "'See how her bratty mouth isn't running anymore?"
Tsu'tey's usual snarl appears as he gives Jake a warning look, "I wonder if the same conclusion will happen if I do the same to you."
You don't have to see to know that Jake's shit-eating grin is etched on his lips, leaving you moaning around Tsu'tey when your husband slides out and immediately plunges back in, a large, wet slap echoing in the air when his hips meet your ass.
"I think she'd like nothing better than to see you teach me a lesson," Jake pushes out while huffing a strained, small laugh, "She just got tighter."
Tsu'tey grunts in answer, feeling your throat constrict around his cock like a living being each time Jake pulls out and shoves his way back in.
"Ngh, yes. Very 'ekxin," Tsu'tey groans out, finally giving in and starting to move his hips back and forth, small motions at first before eventually matching Jake's rhythm.
You felt like a spitroast with both cocks thrusting in and out both ends of you, and even more so when you felt a burning warmth, pleasant and growing deep in the pit of your stomach. The way Jake's cock rubs against the lining of your inner walls is so addicting, but you're unable to savor it because you're instantly distracted by the reminder to breathe through your nose when Tsu'tey only manages to plunge further down your throat. It was the kind of edging that would make anyone insane... and you loved it.
"You're greedy, baby, ya know that?" Jake growls playfully as he bends over your back and nips at your ear, "First, you had Toruk Makto, but then you also had to go and want the olo'eyktan. Well, now you have both of us, and it looks as though you can barely handle it."
The whines you let out send shocks up Tsu'tey's cock, making him growl uncontrollably, like a cornered animal. His mind foggy with desire, he briefly forgets how he needs to be gentle and roughly grabs your kuru, pulling it back to force your head to tilt at the desired angle before thrusting deep inside your mouth. His balls slap the underside of your chin while your constricting throat makes the most obscure, spongy sounds as you take his dick.
One of your hands shoots out to tightly grab his thigh, gagging around his cock as the leaking tip hits the back of your throat, past your uvula. Your nails dig into his skin in an attempt to push him away, but that only appears to rile him up more.
He snarls down at you, pulling back his lips to display his teeth, "Take it, sevin."
Your eyes widen with tears as you choke around him, your tearful gaze only spurring Tsu'tey on. Jake bites down on your shoulder, either to muffle his moans or to remind you he was there, no one could say.
"You heard him," Sully gasps as he lathers his tongue over your new bite mark, "Take it, baby. Take it all."
He tugs your tail a little tighter, reminding you that he still has his arm tangled around it. You whine loudly around Tsu'tey, feeling him twitch inside your mouth. The Na'vi man only rides your mouth faster, growling incoherently, precum leaking down your throat, making it tickle and threaten to make you cough or choke. Sensing he was close, you flex your tongue just underneath his length, hallowing your cheeks to the point his thrusts leave the most grotesque, sucking noises to fill the air.
"Yawntu-" Tsu'tey cut himself off with a snarl, his muzzle scrunching up like an angry thanator, "Kalweyaveng-!"
He's so deep in your throat that your nose bumps his pelvis, feeling his muscles tighten in his abdomen as he starts shooting his cum down your throat with one last thrust, driving himself as deep as possible while gasping for breath. You don't even dare close your eyes no matter how good it feels, watching his face contort above you, eyes closed as his brow ridge scrunched up as if in pain, and his mouth open while panting for air, loosening his grip on your kuru. He's still emptying his load as he slowly starts to pull out, the last couple of streams of his seed splashing over your lips and cheek. You close your mouth to swallow before your lips fall open to gulp down the air as if your life depended on it, your gaze flicking back up to him with half-lidded eyes.
Tsu'tey's tail twitches behind him at the sight of your flushed and marked face. While the heat of his lust has dimmed slightly from his eyes, the way he looked at you made everything in your body instinctively tighten, forcing both you and Jake to start spiraling to your own orgasms.
Jake whines every time he pushes his cock back inside your wet heat, a ring of white cream now forming around his thickness every time he stretches your puffy ring, "Ah, ah, ah-!"
The first spurts of his seed filling your womb sends your eyes to roll back as you clamp down around his cock, forcing him to stop thrusting and just empty everything he has as deep as possible, painting your walls. You moan loudly as the warmth in the pit of your stomach bursts, flooding your body with euphoria, a high you have never been able to recreate without your husband, but this time it only felt better with both he and Tsu'tey pumping you full from both ends.
As usual, Jake's ears twitch erratically as the edge of his orgasm begins to fade, leaving him blubbering nonsense as he tries to ride it out longer, "Ohhhh, baby. That's it... oh, fuck. Clenching me so tight... god, I never want to leave this tight little thing. Took us so well. Our little doll."
Instead of replying, the overstimulation as Jake faintly moves his hips to form shallow thrusts makes you whine and reach forward to bite the inside of Tsu'tey's thigh, eliciting a deep sound in the back of his throat as his hand tightens in your hair once more, "Mawey, sevin."
Jake chuckles and slowly pulls out, groaning while watching a large amount of cum leak out of your abused slit, his tail already curling with interest, "Take her real quick so I can grab a cloth."
As if you weighed nothing, Jake takes your hips and lifts you up, passing you to Tsu'tey like the doll he claims you to be. Your face practically magnetizes to the crook of the olo'eyktan's neck, the corded muscle flexing beneath your lips as you playfully bite him stirring a small wave of amusement through you. Tsu'tey harrumphs while tightening his arms around you, his previous hesitance no longer there.
"Did I mention she bites?" Jake smirks while finding a cloth and wetting it down, moving back over to the two of you.
Tsu'tey scoffs faintly, but there wasn't any malice behind his tone, too exhausted and surprisingly relaxed to care while watching Jake dip the cloth between your legs.
As your gasp quietly at the feel, Jake dips his head down to whisper hotly in your ear, "So, tomorrow night... how do you feel about breaking your link and keeping both yourself and your avatar here so Tsu'tey and I can fuck both of your pussys?"
Taglist: @pandoraslxna @inolaphoenix @neteyamsoare @mooniequeen @avatar-lover @taronyuhunter @ikeyniofthetayrangi @neteyamssyulang @sullybrothersmate @rivatar avatar4eva @bdudette
#tsu'tey#jake sully#jake sully smut#tsu'tey smut#tsu'tey x reader#jake sully x reader#jake sully imagine#tsu'tey imagine#tsu'tey x reader x jake sully#jake sully x reader x tsu'tey#avatar 2009#avatar#avatar smut#avatar imagine#avatar 2009 smut#anla's sleeping beauties
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Hidden Embers
Series summary: You return to your home state the summer after graduating college. The relentless Texas heat, the suburban southern bubble and your treacherous relationship with your mom give you the feeling this will be a long summer. That's until Joel Miller enters the picture.
Summary: Your welcome-back party brings a re-encounter with one of your dad’s old friends, one you don’t remember looking so good.
A/N: Hello strangers, haven't seen you in a long long time. This is something that's been on the works for months now. Ideally, I wanted to put this series out when I had a good enough chunk of the story finished since I'm the most undecisive person ever. However, I wanna start posting some chapters on here as I go and then post the full completed thing on AO3. I will warn you though, it is very likely that as I write the story, I will keep on making some changes to previously posted chapters just so in the end it all makes sense and it's cohesive, I will let you guys know whenever there has been a major change. Take this as me asking the tumblr girlies to beta read this series before i publish it over on AO3. In any case, I hope the ones who decide to start reading here instead of waiting for the full thing enjoy it very much, I'm very open to suggestions, opinions and constructive critisism. :)
Warnings: Age-gap (Reader is 22, Joel is 46), Dbf!Joel, mommy issues
It was your first summer back home after graduation. The relentless Texas heat was bringing memories from your childhood that had been buried away until now, some of them felt more like dreams at this point. You had never been too good with the heat, but spending four years in chilly, gloomy New England had certainly birthed a new appreciation for it.
You weren’t sure you wanted to come back and stay for the entire summer, but your southern-to-the-core mother has a knack for getting her way. Something about “You were away for four whole years, I’m sure you can spare us a couple months before you jump right into a job in god knows where. Who knows? Maybe you’ll end up moving back and finding something around here, a nice guy to settle down with and finally get your life going.”
God forbid.
Naturally, in true southern fashion, your parents had to make your graduation celebration a neighborhood affair. A big barbeque, with all the nice people your parents grew up with, went to highschool and college with, who married and had kids with each other. People who haven’t, a day in their lives, given a single thought to what might exist outside of their perfect suburban bubbles.
You weren’t trying to act ungrateful – it was a celebration of one of your most important milestones after all. People were coming together to congratulate you and your achievements. But if it were up to you, none of them would have been invited and you wouldn’t have celebrated it like this. Honestly, you missed the trips you used to take with your dad as a kid, all the way out in the countryside. Just the two of you for a week during the summer, staying in an old cabin that creaked and shook whenever your steps were too heavy. You don't remember why you stopped going, but you wished you still did. It would have been a much nicer celebration.
None of today’s guests knew you as anything other than your parent’s daughter, the shiny new thing your mother was choosing to show off. You knew that’s how it was gonna be the second your mother told you there was no point in attending your college’s graduation party, why would you when they could make you your own celebration back home with all the nice neighborhood people instead of a room full of strangers?
Your dad had good intentions, you knew that… deep, deep down. But it had always just been the three of you, and even when it was blatantly obvious your mother was in the wrong, even when there was no way of justifying her behavior, he still stood behind her, echoing her words.
And that's how you ended up here, prepping food for your own graduation barbeque, decorating your own garden, cleaning up your own house so it would be squeaky clean for people you hadn’t seen in well over a decade. It’s what a “Do it for me, i’ll make it up to you I promise. The community is just really important to your mom” from your dad gets out of you.
You had probably been looking at yourself for a good twenty minutes now. Nothing you tried on felt quite right. It was either too formal, too casual, too revealing or too childish. This was a direct consequence of moving out of the south at the ripe age of 10; No one in Virginia taught you how to dress for a neighborhood barbeque.
Last minute you land on a blue sundress, delicate white flowers scattered around, long enough to cover your knees but not enough to make you look like you just walked out of Sunday school. You took that as a win.
At the sound of your mother loudly complaining about no one in the house ever helping (a comment undoubtedly directed at you), you decide to drag yourself downstairs. The sooner you get this party started, the sooner you could be done with it.
Rushing down the stairs, distractedly gathering your hair up with a tie, you unexpectedly bump into something – or rather someone.
"Easy, there. Where's the fire?"
That familiar voice… same old Joel Miller. A few more grays overpowering the darkness of his hair, a couple more wrinkles here and there and a deeper tan painting his skin a more caramel-y shade. But it was still him.
You knew very little about Joel, just that he was your dad’s best friend for as long as you could remember. The periodic phone calls they filled with hour-long football discussions, the christmas cards exchanged and birthday wishes texted. You remember him being around the house a lot before moving out of Texas, although the specifics of it escape your memory.
Now he’s standing right in front of you, firm hands holding you by your arms to make sure you won't lose your balance, and you’re faced with the fact that twenty-two-year-old you might be seeing Joel Miller through a different lens.
Your brain isn’t really doing what it’s meant to do, which in this exact moment would be produce an acceptable response for the six-foot-something man with broad shoulders, dark brooding eyes and a musky, woody scent that made you wanna… No. Focus.
“I am so sorry, I didn’t even see you there… I didn’t think anyone would arrive until five.” you finally reply to his expectant stare.
“No need to be sorry.” He says back, letting go of your arms once he’s sure you’re able to stand on your own. “Well, welcome home. Haven’t seen you since you were running around in mermaid tees”
Yeah, now seemed like the right time to look for a hole in the ground to crawl into.
“Oh, that’s not fair, I grew out of my mermaid phase long before we moved. I was well into boyband territory last time you saw me” you try to joke your way through the conversation, hoping the burning sensation crawling up to your cheeks isn’t as obvious as it feels.
The embarrassment of the moment would have churned your insides for much longer if Joel's mouth hadn't quirked up in a charming smirk, so captivating it was hard to believe he wasn't aware of its effect.
That on its own was already causing some conflicting feelings to boil up inside you, but then he had the nerve to let out a small chuckle he seemed to have been trying to hold back. He was chuckling... Texas’ resident grump was chuckling at your joke, which wasn't even that funny if we’re being fully earnest. Why did you like that thought so much?
You were about to say something, anything really, in a shameless attempt to see if you could earn one more of those, when your mother's approaching voice snapped you out of the haze.
“Are you gonna make me drag you in here, or will you do me the courtesy of helping out... Oh, goodness me! Joel! I didn’t hear you come in, you’re here early.” She switched gears faster than a professional racer. Suddenly, she was back to being the neighborhood’s sweetheart, her voice dripping with that sickly sweet drawl.
“Yes, ma’am. Sorry for the intrusion,” Joel replies, slipping back into his usual, almost stiff demeanor. Whatever new side you had seen of him a second ago was quickly gone. “Hank asked me to drop by a bit earlier to bring him the grill. Said mine’s better suited for the amount of meat he’s buying.”
“Oh, how that man refuses to listen. I told him we didn’t need that much meat. I'm making a whole lotta side dishes,” she whines, waving her hand dismissively. “Well, I guess everyone will be taking leftovers home then. Hank went over to the store to grab me some stuff I was missing. He should be back in a heartbeat.” She glances back at you and, in that passive-aggressive tone that almost anybody else would miss, said, “Well, sweetheart, don’t just stand there. Go help Joel unload his grill and show him what a good host you are.”
It was only your third day back home. Somehow, four years of freedom had made living in this household even more unbearable.
Smile, turn around, walk away. Choose your peace, choose your peace, choose your peace.
Heavy footsteps echo yours all the way to the garage, where Joel's truck waited. You let him walk past you to unlock the tailgate. “Your mom hasn’t changed one bit, has she?” Joel says distractedly while grabbing some metal pieces that looked like parts of his grill.
“Oh, if you only knew.” you say back, trying your best to conceal the sharpness of your tone.
He hands you the cold metal parts, surprisingly lighter than you anticipated. You were convinced he only made you carry them to let you feel useful. “Believe me, I know. Known your mom since way before you were even a thought runnin’ through her mind.”
Right. Because Joel happens to be your parents’ age and over twice your senior. One of the many reasons why getting distracted by the way his muscles flexed while picking up the grill was so beyond wrong.
“You uh… you still live a few houses up the street?” You asked, trying your best to redirect your reckless thoughts.
“Same old house.” He replies with a slightly strained voice from carrying the weight. Once he set it down in the backyard, he turned around to take the pieces you were holding onto. “Renovated some of it, built a new pool out back.”
“That sounds nice, might have to check it out sometime.” You said it without even thinking much. What compelled you to think it was acceptable to tell a man you haven't seen in over a decade you would like to ‘check out’ his pool, was beyond you.
You thought Joel would chuckle it off or maybe not even acknowledge it, which he would’ve been well within his right to do, but he looked up to you from his leaning position next to the grill and said “Yeah, I think you might.”
You couldn’t shake off Joel’s words throughout the whole afternoon.
First chance you got to zone out in between introductions, awkward small talk and getting asked the same thing for the thousandth time, your mind drifted back to Joel’s words.
He was just being polite, right? He has always been a gentleman after all. Maybe it was just the southern hospitality in him, maybe he didn’t even mean it and was just trying to be nice.
Yeah, I think you might
You were probably just reading too much into it, but the way he said it seemed like a lot more than just being polite. Or, and this is a very big possibility, it’s been way too long since you’ve let anyone take you to bed and you’re latching onto the first man who looks your way.
You try to distract your brain with the old lady in front of you instead, who’s been chatting you up about her four cats for over fifteen minutes. She’s surprisingly nice but you think you’d be enjoying her chatter a lot more if your mind wasn’t so distracted.
She notices as much. “You doin’ alright there, sweetheart?”
You brush it off as best as you can. “Oh, I'm alright. I just think the trip and the unpacking is finally catching up to me.” You stand up from the lawn chair you’d been lounging on. “I’ll go grab myself a drink, can I grab you anything?”
She smiles sweetly up at you and replies “No, sweetness, you go ahead.”
The chatter outside dulls out as you close the glass doors behind you. You don’t bother turning on the kitchen overhead lights, relying only on light seeping in from the back yard.
The chill from the fridge hits your chest as you crack the door open to grab a can of coke. Just as you pop the tab, a shadow leaning against the door frame makes you jump.
“Jesus, give a girl a warning.” you say bringing your hand to your chest trying to slow your heartbeat back down.
“Sorry darlin’, didn’t mean to scare you.” Joel's voice comes from the shadow
Darlin’ ? Lord, were you screwed.
You hoped the dim lighting was doing enough to hide the burning red that was probably staining your cheeks already, especially since Joel was pushing off of the door frame and walking over to you.
“Needed a break from the crowd too?” you ask softly, cutting through the quiet.
The corner of his lips curves up in one of his killer smirks and you can already tell that’s gonna be one of your favorite things about him. “You readin’ me like a book.”
You give him a tiny smile and take a sip of your Coke, the cold liquid a welcome distraction. “I thought you’d be manning the grill.”
He grumbles softly, the sound reverberating in his chest. “Hank’s got it covered for now. Figured I’d come check on you.”
You look up at him confused. “Check on me? Why?”
He shrugged, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. “Just wanted to make sure you’re doing alright. This can’t be easy, coming back after all this time.”
More than the charming smirks or the pet names or the indecipherable jabs, this knocked the air out of your chest. You were so used to everyone telling you how lucky you were, how wonderful your parents were and how great it was they could put you through college, how perfect of a life you had and how easy it seemed for you to deal with it all. You get it, that’s how it looked from the outside and you didn’t blame people for thinking that. But the truth was you had just become shockingly skilled at hiding your struggles, pretending you had everything under control and plastering a big, dazzling smile on your face.
Somehow, in the few hours that Joel has been around you, at least in this past decade, he managed to see right through this smoke screen you’ve been building your entire life to keep people from seeing what’s going on inside.
It leaves you speechless for a second. “Oh, um…” you can’t take your eyes off of him now, far too unconcerned to notice if you’re staring. “It’s been… exhausting and a bit hectic but, you know... I’m alright. Thank you for asking, Joel.” His name slips out of your lips so easily, like you could picture yourself saying it over and over again without ever burning out.
He looks down, almost like he isn’t used to doing this either, like he’s searching for something else to say. Then his hoarse voice breaks through the silence “Well, if you’re not, you know where to find me.”
With one last glance, a lingering one at that, Joel turns back and leaves where he came from. Like he didn’t just tip your entire world out of balance.
And you’re left there in the dark, trying to figure out what the hell this feeling on your chest is and why, on god's green earth, your father’s best friend won’t leave your head.
#joel miller#joel x reader#dbf!joel miller#dbf!joel#tlou#tlou joel#joel miller fic#joel miller x you#Hidden embers
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could you write the cullen's being jealous??
The Cullens being Jealous
Thank you so much for requesting and I hope you enjoy this!
Also I mentioned it in my last post but I know not everybody would have seen it because I didn't put as many tags, so I'll say it again.
My requests are open!!!!! Please request, I'm bored :(
Edward:
I feel like he would get jealous pretty easy
Like he can hear everybody's thoughts
He already knows if someone starts expressing interest in you before they can even do anything
But the most he would do in that scenario is maybe keep you a little farther away from that person
You know like moving your seat in class so you're closer to him and farther from them
Walking different ways to class to avoid them
Stuff like that
He wouldn't say anything to you or to them
Now if they act on it?
Completely different story
No matter your gender, physical appearance, race, literally anything, the second you guys start dating everyone knows it
So for someone to know that you guys are dating and still try something?
He is seeing red
It doesn't matter what the other person did
A flirty note, asking you on a date, literally touching your fingers while they hand you something
All of it's the same to Edward
If it wasn't your fault or you weren't reciprocal, it's very likely that you wouldn't even know anything happened
To you, Edward just stepped away for a moment at lunch
But in reality he cornered the poor, stupid person and not-so-nicely told them to never even look at you again or they were gonna be dead
But if he sees something that you did as meaning that you were into it?
The same thing happens to the other person
And he sits down to have a talk with you
Maybe he only heard about what happened and didn't get to read your mind as it was happening
Or maybe he can't read your mind for some reason
Just explain to him that he's the only one for you
And let him read your mind if he can to let him know that you mean it
Overall he's very protective and pretty prone to jealousy
Alice:
I don't really see her as the jealous type
She has that mentality of "they come home with me every night so it doesn't matter what other people do"
Like she's got you already
And she doesn't ever see you cheating
So she's not worried
The only time that she would get jealous is if you show a liking to human nature
AKA anything that she can't give you
If you mention something about someone's hand being so warm or mention having a sleepover with someone she gets a bit jealous
The sad type
It just reminds her that she can't be everything for you
If you're a human it's even worse
She knows that she's cold
She knows she can't sleep
She knows that she'll never be able to enjoy your favorite foods with you
It just hurts to be reminded of it
But she's also not the type to stew in it
She will tell you straight-up if something is bothering her
She won't ask you to never make comments like that ever again
Obviously that's not really something that can be controlled
But she just wants you to know why she's a little more down than usual today
"Oh nothing, I was just reminded that I'm not human"
Please give her so many kisses and tell you that you love her no matter what
Jasper:
I can already tell I'm gonna get carried away
Jasper in my mind 🤝 angst
He gets so jealous
But again it's the sad kind
He's not perfect
He's not human
And he's not good for you
The fact that you agreed to date him at all is still a wonder to him
So he's very sensitive to seeing you with other people at all
He knows that you have friends obviously and that you can't be with him 24/7
But when he sees you and your lab partner laughing and making jokes, when he sees one of your oldest friends leaning way too close, when he finds a note shoved in between your papers, it gets to be too much
It just reminds him of how many better options there are for you
He wouldn't say anything to the person making moves on you
He knows that it would definitely end up in a police report and the Cullens needing to move again
But I feel like he would take some time to talk to you
He would take a while to psych himself up though
Maybe a few practice convos with Alice
And a threat from Rosalie that she is going to take matters into her own hands if he doesn't say anything
He would be very open about what's bothering him
He doesn't like keeping secrets from you
So he would tell you about how he felt seeing the way someone acted with you
The type of emotions they were feeling
And how it was bothering him
He would accept all of your explanations that the person was just a friend, or that you don't feel that way
But I feel like what he would really need is some intense reassurance that you do want to be dating him
And that you love him
Aww so sweet
Rosalie:
Yeah she doesn't get jealous
She's a bad bitch
She's hot
And she knows that you love her
It doesn't matter if some nobody from your highschool starts hitting on you
Because there's no way they have a chance with you
And she knows that
Because guaranteed you are a bad bitch too
The only time that really any reaction would come from her is if somebody physically hits on you and makes you uncomfortable
And it's not jealousy it is full protective rage
Like how dare someone touch her SO and think they can get away with it
A note or two, maybe some longing glances she can get past
But harassing for a date, pressuring you for your number, or even making physical advancements that you are not okay with?
Yeah suddenly they wake up the next day with a broken arm
And she goes full exposé
If they sent you any nudes they are getting leaked to the school
She doesn't play around like that
Fuck around and find out
But she will never be jealous of some losers trying to take what's not theirs
Emmett:
He's also not really one to get jealous
In fact he kinda likes the opportunities
Like if some guy is hitting on you he LOVES being able to sneak up and go
"Babe is this guy bothering you?"
And then the dude just turns around and sees this 6 foot something 300 pounds of pure muscle dude standing there
He loves it
He does get a bit annoyed though
Like if there's one person that keeps sending you notes, asking you on dates, trying to sit next to you in class, he gets frustrated
He offers to beat them up
To get them to leave you alone of course not because it's annoying him
Even if you say not to he's still gonna do it
He's like a 50's gangster waiting in an alleyway for the person to show up
He doesn't physically beat them up
Yet
If the person persists after his "stern talk" their ass gets jumped
And he will always deny it if you ask him
Oh well :)
Esme:
I feel like she might be a bit insecure about being one of the "normal" ones
She doesn't have any special powers
And she didn't have any particularly strong characteristics that manifested themselves when she turned
In her mind she's just a little "blah"
So I feel like she would get jealous easy
But it wouldn't have an opportunity to present itself as much
She wouldn't get jealous over most humans
And since she spends most of her time in the house, she doesn't even get to see you out and about interacting with people all that often
So I feel like the moments in which her jealousy makes itself known would be when other vampires are in the area
Especially if they're vegetarians
And ESPECIALLY if they're gifted
It was her actual waking nightmare when all of the vampires were collected to protect Renesmee
(Not that she really had time to be worrying about that but yk)
The only other time I could see her getting jealous would be if you two were out and about together and someone started hitting on you
And even then she would only tell you about it after the person left
"I can't believe they were flirting with you while I am literally right here" "...are you jealous?" "...no..."
Carlisle:
This is a man who is secure in his relationship
He trusts you completely because he knows that you trust him completely
SO many people flirt with him at the clinic (I don't blame them I would too tbh) (actually no I wouldn't I'm too scared to do that)
He knows that people find him attractive
And he knows that people find you attractive because how could they not
But he has full faith in you
And he is very transparent
He tells you all of his stories from the day when he comes home from work
"This woman came in today with a broken foot, like completely turned around, bone showing and everything. And she still looked at me and asked for my number! And then she passed out..."
He thinks it's funny
Because he would never, not in a million years, even CONSIDER cheating
The only thing would be if you're describing an interaction you had and you don't sound completely put-off by it or if he finds that you kept a note someone gave you that was very clearly flirtatious
He, once again, does not let it stew, though
He directly asks about it
Prying into the details of how you feel about this person and why you talked the way you did/kept the note they gave
I can't imagine anyone cheating on him tho so just tell him the truth that you didn't mean it that way or just forgot to throw the note away
He still fully trusts you tho
Vampire! Bella:
She sort of has the same problem as Esme
In her mind she still thinks of herself as the boring, plain-looking girl who just blended in
She doesn't consider herself to be anything special
So when she sees you talking to someone else, maybe laughing a bit too hard at someone's joke, or even hanging out with someone, she gets super jealous
I am sad to say though that she does immediately jump to conclusions
She gets sad for a bit but then immediately she flies into accusations
Asking you what you were doing with that person, if you want to break up with her, if she's not good enough, if you already cheated on her
It gets a bit exhausting after a while
I feel like this would be a genuine problem
Once she met Edward, she basically left all of her friends
So she has a little bit of a skewed idea of what a relationship is supposed to be like
I mean you can't entirely blame her
Her only other experience with a relationship was complete obsession
So she thinks your relationship should be the same
You just need to tell her that
That most normal people in relationships do actually have friends
She'll get it at some point... maybe
#alice cullen#alice cullen x reader#bella swan#bella swan x reader#carlisle cullen#carlisle cullen x reader#edward cullen#edward cullen x reader#esme cullen#esme cullen x reader#jasper cullen x reader#jasper cullen#jasper hale#jasper hale x reader#rosalie cullen#rosalie hale#rosalie cullen x reader#rosalie hale x reader#emmett cullen#emmett cullen x reader
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Help me doctor Crane✧₊⁺
₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊₊✩‧₊˚౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊
Ship|Jonathan Crane x fem!reader
Summary|you run into Jonathan out of fear and he takes advantage of the situation.
Word Count|1344
Warnings|smut(18+!), age gap!, oral(m!rec), deep throating, chocking, crying?, kidnapping, innocent! reader, dub-con?
Notes|soo this is my first like smut writing or fanfic ever, well it's a drabble but ykyk. I think it's okay but I don't love it, also had no idea how to end it so it's a bit random but yeah😭 hope u enjoy! masterlist
"Oh look at you, such a pretty little thing.." His raspy but quiet voice sighed out, itching a part of your brain in the most pleasant way, his presence fully intoxicating you; from the odd way he smelt or how he held your face, squeezing your cheeks between one hand while mocking you.
"practically ran into the belly of the beast and why? Because you were scared?" the condescendence was dripping from his tone as he chuckled dryly, finding it hilarious that after being sprayed by one of his goons you had run to his arms for comfort, and now you're stuck here in his little 'base'; whining behind the cloth he had hastily stuffed in your mouth, struggling against the restraints he had put on you while your brain was still hazy, somehow managing to bind you to a support beam.
"what am I gonna do with you hmm?" He continued in a bit of an agitated tone, his eyebrows furrowing as he stared you down, "I could just.. kill you?" he muttered out and your eyes naturally widened, the dangers of this situation setting in, specially when you saw the gleam in his eyes, a muffled whimper escaped you.
"but that would be such a waste..." He was almost talking to himself now in a barely audible tone, his eyes dropping to blatantly check you out.
You tried speaking from behind the gag, wanting to have a say in the matter of your own life and death; he rose an eyebrow in response, reaching up to untie it, seemingly interested in what you have to say for his own amusement.
"please don't kill me doctor Crane, please! I'll do anything!" Your pleas were met with a very bored looking 'doctor Crane', seemingly sick of the generic lines he'd heard one too many times, but they were definitely different coming from a youthful, attractive girl such as yourself and caused a certain tightness in his pants.
Your frantic pleas were interrupted by a hum of his smooth voice, "anything? You'd do anything?" he repeated in a strangely slow tone, though it was unsettling you rushed to nod in response, not letting the chance of surviving letting slip.
He scoffed lightly, glancing downward in thought before taking leisurely steps behind the pole you were tied to, undoing the messily done knots to release your sore wrists, "let's test that theory then.."
Of course you tried to make a run for it but a hand in your hair and arm over your neck were quick to pull you back, so quick in fact that you were sure he anticipated your attempted escape which made you feel dumb for even trying.
"You didn't think it'd be that easy right sweetheart?" he muttered in your ear, his voice had a eery edge to it now that made goosebumps rise all over your skin.
"You're choking me..." Your now raspy voice spoke as your eyes started to well up from the burn in your scalp, your hands reached up to try and pry his arm off your neck though he was much stronger than you so your efforts were to no avail
"oh am I?" He spoke in mock pity, tightening his arm around your neck making you yelp as you started to panic even more, "could've just played nice but you just had to go and be a smartass huh"
"I'm sorry.. Please stop I'm sorry" you whimpered out as tears dripped down your cheeks, landing on the sleeve of his coat that probably cost an unreasonable amount of money.
Your ears perked up as the sound of sniffing reached them, his hands left you hair and neck before turning you around to face him while you took in quick breaths to fill your parched lungs, "smell so sweet.."
He muttered more to himself than you while playing with a strand of your hair, blue eyes looking over your flushed, wet and sniffling face, "how old re'you sweetheart?" His oddly soothing voice questioned as he cupped your cheek with one hand, wiping a stray tear with his thumb.
"I'm- uhm, nineteen.." He sucked in a sharp breath at that, his pale cheeks flushing lightly, "then you know what I want don't you? What you'll have to do in order for me to free you.." He questioned lowly,
You had a vague idea of what he wanted, but hoped if you pretended not to know you'd be able to escape faster, "what do I have to do doctor Crane?" You questioned back with a tilt of your head.
"Don't play dumb sweetheart" he retorted with a scoff, finding amusement in your antics.
"I want you" you let out a little squeak of surprise feeling the force of his hands on your shoulders, pushing till you were sitting on your knees.
"To be on your knees and suck me off, is that clear enough for you?" He questioned with a mocking tilt of his head, squishing your cheeks between one hand as he did so, "y-yeah.." You responded quietly with a little nod.
Your shaky hands reached for his zipper, glancing up at him before pulling it down and unbuttoning his pants to reveal his covered bulge, you were about to pull his boxers down but paused, letting your fingers rest on the cotton hem.
"I've never.. done this before doctor Crane" you voiced your nerves quietly, chewing on your bottom lip as your cheeks flushed from embarrassment, his face softened slightly at your confession.
"I know.. I'll help you" he responded in a soothing tone, running a hand through your hair, he reached his other to pull down his black boxers to reveal his hard dick.
He took pleasure in the way you started at it in awe, "go on, touch it" he told you quietly, you tentatively brought your had and wrapped it around his base, looking up at him with wide eyes as he wrapped his hand around yours and guided it to stroke him.
"now wrap your lips around it and suck" he ordered impatiently, removing his hand from yours as you got the hang of it, you did as he asked and took his tip in your mouth, letting your tongue lick the beads of pre-cum off his slit, a groan escaping him that urged you on, getting bolder as you took him half way and hallowed your cheeks.
His hand tightened in your hair as he started thrusting in your mouth in sync with the way he was making your head go up and down on his dick, "there you go.." He muttered out, basking in the little whimpers escaping you as he went deeper and deeper.
As he started breaching your throat barrier your squirming grew and his pleasure increased at the tightness of your throat, he let you go for a moment to take a breath before pushing you all the way down till your nose was buried in his pubic hair, triggering your gag reflex as you tried to push yourself off, "calm down and take it, you've gotta work for your reward darling"
He muttered out as your eyes started watering, your whimpers and muffled mewls sending waves of pleasure straight to his brain and making his eyes roll back into his head, his hand tightening in your hair as he started rutting into your mouth, letting his body be controlled by the pleasure while panic induced you from the lack of air.
You felt his cock twitching in your mouth before he pulled out and let you fall back on your elbows, he aimed himself to come all over your face and exposed cleavage, most of it going in your mouth as you tried to breathe.
He tucked himself back in as you tried to collect yourself, he grabbed your face and collected most of his come on his finger and shoved it in your mouth, "swallow" he instructed simply and you did as he asked, cringing at the taste.
He removed his finger with a pop and straightened himself up, brushing a hand through his hair before looking down at you, "you should run into me more often sweetheart"
#jonathan crane x you#jonathan crane x reader#jonathan crane#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy#cillian murphy my love#cillian x reader#dc#cillian x fem!reader#cillian fic#cillsworld
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could you write about akutagawa eating out reader while holding her thighs open 🤭
I was so giddy when I saw your request. Hope you like it anon cuz I sure loved writing it♡♡ also tysm for 500+ followers love you all so much♡♡
°☆●
Dripping•
𝑨𝒌𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒘𝒂 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎! 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓
𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: smut♡/ girl dinner
Eyes rolling back in your skull, fingers entangling in his raven hair as you pulled him closer to your aching core; all you could think about was how good his tongue felt.
"Shit Ryuu I'm gonna~" you babbled out as the grip on his hair tightened, trembling thighs squeezing his head, causing your boyfriend to hiss.
His hands slid up to the middle of your legs and pushed down harshly, ripping a sultry moan from your lips.
"Didn't I tell you to keep them open, hm?" he said in a low, ragged voice that made you clench around nothing.
" 'm sorry love sorry. Please don't stop" you pleaded; and what could he do except indulge you?
His tongue pressed flat against your puffy clit as his right hand reluctantly unclenched from your thigh and went to your sopping hole, slender fingers gently working you open. Each thrust of his digits sent you to heaven and back, eliciting needy whines and pleas of more and more from you.
And oh, how he adored your sounds, a symphony of praise he so desperately craved. On days like this when planets alligned in the most unfortunate way: a mission with the weretiger followed by unbearably long meetings with the Port Mafia higher-ups- your mewls were the only thing that managed to drown his racing thoughts and calm his nerves.
And still, you just wouldn't let him do his job. Each time his tongue would ever so slightly lap at your aching clit your thighs would close around his head, preventing him from eating you out. Naturally, he hated that; he just wanted to make both of you feel good but you couldn't help yourself now, could you?
Akutagawa's patience finally came to an end when you pressed your legs together for the nth time and he pulled his head away from your core. His slate grey eyes met yours.
"You just can't do as you're told?" he said lowly before summoning Rashōmon.
You watched him through half-lidded eyes, eyelids fluttering as the black tendrils wrapped tightly around your plush thighs, forcing them open.
"What are y-" you tried to speak but were cut off by the warm feeling of Akuatagwa's tongue on your clit.
"Relax baby. Lemme finish what I'm doing" he spoke sweetly and you felt your back arch at the sound of his tender words.
Baby. He never used such terms of endearment for he deamed them fatuous. But now, lost as he was in the pleasure he was granting you those things didn't matter anymore.
He was messily sliding his tongue along your dripping cunt, fingers pumping in and out of you at a relentless pace.
Mindless mewls and moans rolled off your lips as your fingers gripped his black tufts again, pulling him closer as you felt your orgasm building up; a sweet, tingling sensation in your lower belly.
And naturally, your boyfriend was so blisfully aware of your reactions. His lips, chin and fingers were fully glazed in your juices as he kept working you closer to your high. With each desperate tug at his hair, Rashōmon's tendrils would wrap tighter around your legs, keeping them in place and you relished the state he was in. So drunk on you that he was barely able to control his ability.
Soon enough a wave of heat washed over you and you came on his tongue, earning a sultry groan from him.
"God you taste so fucking good" he moaned against your core, cleaning up any remains of your orgasm.
Slowly, as you caught your breath, your fingers untangled from his hair and a languid smile made its way to your lips.
"Feeling better?" you asked mirthfully, softly seizing your boyfriend's chin with two fingers to pull him in for a quick kiss.
"A lot" he hummed in response, returning the kiss and you moaned lightly when you tasted yourself on his tongue.
Akutagawa loosened Rashōmon's grip on you, gently running his thumb over the red marks left behind.
"Sorry for this" he giggled, clearly content with the mark he left on you.
You mimicked his smile and assured him that there was no trouble before pulling him in a gentle embrace.
"I love you lots Ryuu. Hope you know that. You're always so good to me" you whispered against the shell of his ear, sending goosebumps all over his skin.
"Love you too Y/N" he replied in a hushed voice "But you really gotta learn to listen to me more."
#bsd#bungou stray dogs#bsd x reader#bsd fluff#bsd smut#akutagawa smut#akutagawa x reader#bsd akutagawa#akutagawa x you
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Gonna be honest with you though if someone outright says “don’t ship my character with other people” or something to that extent regarding smut or whatever I don’t think there should be any ambiguity
I get your point about the nature of fanfic being inherently encroaching upon people’s images so that levity should be extended to otherwise uncommon avenues but I really believe hardline boundaries should be respected, end of, no discussion. If I see people violating creators’ boundaries for their characters Or themselves (and these can be intertwined, it’s not up to the audience to pick apart their boundaries, cuz I’ve seen people try to do that) I’m not going to judge them fairly and I feel like neither should you.
Lines can be crossed and intimacy (not even necessarily romantic!) is a very different monster than the other avenues of storytelling because of how it involves real life relationships seeping into character relationships. Its’s uncommon for people to be like “I wrote A’s character being tortured because I feel like A is tortured in real life” but they Can and Often do that with ship work. So I don’t know, I feel like you’re not affording this the right nuance.
Alright, so, this is another post I'm gonna slap with a discourse and long post warning right away, buckle in.
Yeah, I hear what you're saying, and this is not an uncommon opinion to have! It's still the opinion of twitter/x so far as I know, and I think it's probably the opinion of the bulk of dsmp fans here, as well. I know my posts get notes once they start circulating in hermitblr, but I don't kid myself that I have the majority view. I am posting to explain my views expressly because I know a lot of people don't agree with me!
And in this case we do have a difference of opinion. There's two sort of points as I see it in your posts— we have hardline boundaries about shipping/nsfw from some people, and everyone in the fandom should be abiding by those no exceptions or be thrown out of the fandom; and we have shipping boundaries but not boundaries for other things because shipping is uniquely boundary-crossing and terrible and invasive, in contrast to anything else we can do in fandom.
Taking the second part first, I just don't think that's true. Let's not forget, boundaries discourse started with SMPLive and SMPronpa, and it was not the shipping that caused the discussion, it was the death games. The first real fandom reckoning we had with the notion of boundaries as mcyt fandom was over gore and murder and portraying people in violent ways. Shipping was barely a blip on the radar. The way the discourse has developed now, shipping is framed as the absolute worst thing anyone could ever do with your public image, and everything else is fine, but that is not the case for everyone. Recently the Pirates SMP creators were asked repeatedly for their boundaries (bothered on twitter, really) until they gave them and thus we saw people being fine with shipping but not wanting family dynamic, or being against both shipping and gore, or being fine with shipping but not wanting to be gender bent or trans headcanoned, etc. Not everyone feels the same way about the same things, despite the us-american cultural viewpoint that romance and sexualization is uniquely bad but gore and torture is fine, that everything else is fine.
Like, if we're looking at DSMP, I think there are a lot of creators who would feel just as strongly if not stronger about fics in which their character died of a terminal illness than they would about a fic in which they kiss someone, for understandable reasons. But I see those tropes in the tags regularly!
I think if we are honest with ourselves, if we are going to hardline boundaries about things that are uniquely invasive or bad to do to a creator's character with the view that we are putting all of this up for the creator's approval, we need to accept that this excludes us from writing anything where a character is abusive or is tortured or dies of a terminal illness or is psychologically broken or is age regressed or is neurodivergent or is queer if the cc is straight or trans if the cc is cis or cis if the cc is trans or straight if they're gay— the list of things that would be weird to do in the face of the real guy is really long. And it has most of our favourite tropes on it!
I love writing autistic philza. It would be really fuckin' weird to go up to Philza and tell him about how I write his character as whumped and autistic. Come on now. (But that's within boundaries, so that's— fine? I really don't think it's fine!)
Which is why my stance is that we should be thinking critically about these things, and keeping the fandom seperate from the creators. Some of these things are just not for the creators. They're fine but they shouldn't go on twitter. Y'know?
The idea that shipping draws uniquely on the real person and leads to invasive behaviour but nothing else does— that nobody does "I wrote A being tortured because I think A is tortured in real life"— Look. I have been in the fandom a long time. I remember how all the abused tommy narratives fed right into people assuming his family in real life were abusive— and talking about this on twitter! Where he and his family could see! People did this with WIlbur and Techno too!
I remember people reading about trans tommy and then truthing that the creator either was transmasc or was going to come out as transfemme any day now, publically, on twitter and in his chat. I have seen people she/her tubbo to his face on twitter, with fancams. I have been in chat when people who have clearly assigned Phil "dad" start asking WILDLY invasive things in TTS. If you think that shipping is the only fandom behaviour that can lead to people drawing directly from the streamers for their work and treating the creators weirdly about it, you simply have not been paying attention.
The way the fandom insists on treating benchtrio as children despite the fact that they're almost twenty and viciously attacking their friends for treating them as adults and chiding tommy and tubbo and ranboo for inappropriate behaviour. The list goes ON.
So. The recieved DSMP wisdom is that we should TTS the streamers to check if it's okay if we write a fic in which they die of cancer. We should DM them on instagram to ask if it's okay if we write them as a gender or sexual identity they don't share. We should show up in their twitter mentions to ask if it's okay if we write them as a physically abusive parent.
No????????
My view on that is that it is frankly bizzare it is that we have decided that "asking creators for detailed instructions regarding porn or gore" (especially in TTS! When they're fucking at WORK and can't step away! Stop doing this to the hermits!) is normal and fine and responsible but "post your shit in appropriate places and leave the creators out of it" will make you a monster.
Once again, the experience of someone coming up and saying "i think of you as age regressed" and someone saying "i found this fic where you're age regressed" and someone saying "can I write a fic where you're age regressed" is not that different. In all cases you know that the person has been thinking about it and putting it out there, and in all cases you didnt seek out this information, it was brought to you. In all cases it's weird. Just do not bring this information up to them!
If you just think about it for a while, you see that there is an entire host of things that would be weird to force into the view of a creator, especially when you consider that half the time we got these clips from TTS information when we have no idea if the person answering knew the context of what they were being asked, if they were specifically aware of the creator/cc divide that the fandom works with, or if they felt pressured into it. Oh yeah, let's take a TTS clip from Tubbo when it was 2 in the morning for him and he was deep in a minecraft mod when someone asked him about alters and delusions and he was like "oh you mean like— when they can't help it? I guess that's fine." That definately counts as freely given, reversible, informed, enthusiastic and specific consent to show him anything we want at all times forever. That's never going to make him uncomfortable.
Think a little here.
So I think there's a lot of the fandom that we should not be putting up for the approval of the creators, and if we don't have a firm answer on if they would like potential edge cases, we should probably be thinking about it and keeping it away from them (and I would err on the side of caution), we should NOT be showing up in the TTS to ask them about narratives in which they're institutionalized, or making them a GOP conservative in fiction, or if Wilbur was canon about seeing them as a bottom, or whatever bizzare thing someone is cooking up now. Honestly if you think to yourself "I don't know if the creator would like seeing this", I would be much more comfortable if the two choices we were picking between there were "simply don't write it" or "write it but keep it away from them", and "harass the creator for an answer on this subject and only write it if they say yes" never entered the equation at all.
And to return to your first point, if we already have a class of fiction that we are keeping away from the creators because basic intellectual curiosity would show that it would be weird to show someone, I don't think it's the end of the world to go "okay, creator doesn't like NSFW, so we also keep the NSFW away from them, keep this shit off twitter, block them if you create it, don't show it to them" and then we archive lock it and continue on our little weirdo on the internet ways.
Now, I don't expect to convince you of this, the phrasing of your post does not indicate that you're open to discussion on this topic. That's fine. Nobody has to agree with me. But I grew up conservative christian, and I have already had people try and get me to throw people out of the community for their perceived sins where I was like "well, I really don't think this is that bad", and I'm really resistant to being forced to do that again. I don't think it's a healthy way to run a fandom, to be shunning people for what they're doing in fiction. Harassing creators in chat? Sure, I will block them from my events as untrustworthy. That's hurting someone in the real world. Writing something that I don't vibe with privately on the archive for an audience of 50 people? That is not doing harm to real people. As long as they're not showing it to the creators, I don't count that as offensive.
How's that for nuance.
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having many thoughts about percy (he drives me insane) idk what the kf devs put into this man, but i swear i'm addicted. like the more i learn about him the more obsessed i become,,,i think i'm mentally ill
anyways since i think a lot about him (and my kf mc, may. might actually drop a lore post on her at some point) i will now be sharing some of those thoughts. also have a strong feeling this post is gonna end up pretty long just as a heads up lmfao
also a lot of this is just speculation on my part and me trying my best to analyze the little amount of information we have as of the moment. just as a disclaimer, anyways!
out of the three love interests i genuinely think percy might be the angstiest route for the following reasons (under the cut):
like first off, the devs have mentioned in the past that one of the routes will have a forced breakup to serve the greater narrative (this was mentioned a really long time ago tho so it might've been subject to change, but since we have nothing that proves otherwise i am running with it.) and i do not believe in any way that it could be elio,,,unless the devs decide to throw us a curveball lmao jamie is still an option and he was my first thought when i found out about the breakup route, butttt i doubt it'd be him. so from process of elimination that only leaves percy. he's also the only one out of the lis that has been in relationships before and judging from past asks i'm assumingggg that those past experiences most likely still affect him.
second, every single mention of his family has been vague at best and there's been ZERO mention of his mother. in the asks only his dad has ever been mentioned and also in the studying event if u go off with percy and elio, go to check out the polo club and choose to stay back with percy he'll mention that he moved to the states with his dad. normally people would mention both parents, but percy didn't so it's likely his parents divorced at some point? also i had a whole ass supposedly sound argument here, but it got disproven bc apparently his step-dad also came with them to the states??? like yes it does still prove that his parents r divorced, but it can also imply he has 2 dads. that's so funny i love it. okay moving onto my actual point!!! since percy is a child of divorce it's likely also affected his view of love and romantic relationships. possibly in a skewed way, but who knows so that does add to the angst factor QUITE a bit
finally, percy's avoidant and deferring nature. during the festival event if you split up and then go to check out the festival games you end up running into percy, which is when the game tells you that he tends to defer to what others want and seems to be perkier exploring the games by himself. there's also a few occasions in-game where if the mc tries to ask percy about himself he tends to either A. brush the topic off or B. push the attention onto someone else (usually elio?). so i'd assume that he dislikes talking about himself? which would mean it would take him a good while to open up. which isn't inherently a bad thing, but it can also cause communication issues so. sigh.
is this flimsy evidence? yes! but do i care? no! also i would do a deeper dive into this if i was actually good at analyzing character behaviors,,,and if not for the fact that at the time i'm writing this it's 1am on a school night. there's also so many other things i could have talked about!!! like his name!!! maybe some other day. so like. do with all this information what you will. bc i certainly will!!! i have so many ideas!! many angsty notes!!! be prepared.
#keyframes vn#perseus tozaki#percy tozaki#author ely's shenanigans#if i'm wrong on any of this then PLEASE tell me#also ty to the discord server for correcting me bc i would have 100 percent embarrassed myself on here if they hadn't lmao#anyways!#i think a lot about percy#need to gently hold him in my hands#then squish him
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Prescription: LOVE (Demo) Review👨⚕️💊
TL;DR: I've got a head injury? I'm gonna need a doctor! How's my memory been? It's been fine. Wait, what? I've got a head injury? I'm gonna need a doctor! How's my memory been? It's been fine. Wait, what? I've got a head injury? I'm gonna need a doctor!
Game Link: https://livingslime.itch.io/prescriptionlove
Notable Features: Self-Insert, Yandere LI, gender neutral language, 2 endings Spiciness: 0/5 -- Don't get me wrong, it's not wholesome either, but this is the type of LI that'll make you say "But daddy, I love him!" even though something is clearly off. LI Red Flags: 2/5 -- Gaslighter, obsessive tendencies, overly "medicating" us DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT. HE'S SO SWEET. I CAN FIX HIM.
Wanna know more? Well, let's get into it!
Okay, not gonna lie, this review is long overdue, because I played this like...maybe 3 or 4 days after the initial drop, and here I am, like, 3 weeks later lmao.
Um...okay, you know what? I'm-- I'm not gonna push myself to write an intro this time lol. I mean, since when is it ever good to push yourself? ...Sometimes, the answer is sometimes, but you should never push yourself too hard, ya know? ...I'm getting off track.
I guess I could start by saying how I found this game on a total accident, and holy shit, am I glad that I found this game regardless. It was damn good, and...honestly, a little unnerving at times. Like, I'll tell you more about it later, but let me tell you, one part in particular had me genuinely spooked.
Anyways, before I get too far into my yap session, I'm going to go ahead and tell you about the game -- with as little spoilers as possible, of course. I mean, how would you be motivated to play the game otherwise unless I leave just enough suspense and mystery? Exactly, so allow me a moment to set the scene, and let's get into it.
So, boom.
We wake up...somewhere.
No, like you don't get it. Logically, it's like, duh, hospital, but we have a whole ass IV in our arm, a splitting headache, and it's almost painfully obvious that our memory took a hit, because we don't remember damn near anything, you feel me? We have, what is essentially, a hole where our memories are supposed to be, and the memories that we do have are so fragmented that they doesn't make any sense. Like...what the hell happened, ya know?
At this point, we're making things worse, because we're trying to force ourselves to remember something -- anything -- and our brain is just like "Mmm...nah. How about we panic, though? Let's do that instead." So, we do. We start feeling really anxious because it's like, how do we go from remembering everything one moment, blink, and then just...virtually no memories at all? Like, nothing? Like, we can't even recognize what a hospital looks like or even is.
"Hey, hey, it's okay".
Huh?
Oh! Oh, hello~! Could this be our boyfriend? Fiancé? Husband~?
"I'm Dr. Anselm."
I mean...he didn't say that he wasn't our husband, ya know? :3 Okay, wait, wait, no, stop, don't distract me. Let me get back on track.
Anyways, this tall gentleman helped us regain control of our nerves and informed us that we were perfectly safe and were currently in a hospital. Dr. Anselm basically told us that he has been overseeing our care and that he was the one in charge of our surgery.
...Wait, our fucking what?!
Before we get too freaked out, though, he tells us that we had some kind of accident that involved blunt force to our head which naturally caused a traumatic brain injury. He then tells us that, when we were brought it by the paramedics, we were in need of an emergency operation in order for us to live. Oh, and we had been asleep for two days straight. Well damn...
Imagine not remembering what you even ate for breakfast yesterday -- well, two days ago -- and this random man who claims to be a doctor comes out of the woodwork and tells you that you had brain surgery. If I could just reiterate once more...what the hell happened?!
Even still, admittedly, Dr. Anselm is being super gentle about the whole thing, and it's bringing a good amount of comfort and security, like everything is going to end up okay; he's even going to let us call our family to let them know that we've pulled through and that we're safe...even though, it's a bit off that no one's visited to start with.
No matter though, because it's past curfew anyways, and Dr. Anselm is adamant that we should rest first and call tomorrow. Fair enough. Rest is a part of recovery after all, and we'd rather get our memories back sooner versus later, not to mention that we actually are a little tired. Lmao, now here's when the issues start coming in...
See, we managed to fall asleep, but then the creak of the door woke us up. Now, at first, we're like "Meh, probably the nurses checking in or whatever", but the issue is, remember when I was like we felt a sense of comfort and security from Dr. Anselm? Lmao, this shit was far from comfortable, let alone safe. So, we make the mistake of we look at the door, and in the gap --
Lmao nah, ain't no way. We're hallucinating.
BRO, AIN'T NO FUCKING WAaaaAAAaAaAaaAAaY. WE ARE NOT HALLUCINA-- DoCTOr ANSEeEEeEEEeeeELM!!!!
Bro, we hit that call button so fast, but that thing also ran off just as fast before Dr. Anselm came rushing in. So, naturally, now we look like we're experiencing the side effect of delulu, because we're trying to explain that we saw something that was clearly not there, but it's like...bro, no, we know what the fuck we saw! Like, dude, please do something!
As always, Dr. Anselm's being super sweet and promised that he'd look into it and get someone to check the security cameras. He encourages us to try to go back to sleep so we don't disrupt our recovery, and, oddly enough, we're able to, even after that.
The next morning, comes along, and Dr. Anselm let's us call our folks, like promised, but...no answer. Hurtful, but okay. Dr. Anselm, also like promised, tells us that they checked the security cameras, and there was no one watching us from the door. Great. So, now we're two for two in this bitch. Perfect.
Still, leave it to Dr. Anselm to help us feel better, though, so it doesn't weigh on us too much for too long. He really is our knight in shining...lab coat.
Even though, with all that medicine he's been giving us...
Not to mention, we had this vividly weird dream...
And, sometimes, there's these weird little flickers in his expression when we ask certain questions or say certain things...
Is Dr. Anselm really trying to help us? Or...
...is it benefitting him that we don't know what happened to us?
Then again...
Nah, that's kind've delulu to think. He's done nothing but try to prioritize our health and recovery. We're safe. We can trust him. It the doctor's orders, after all, and he'd know what's best for us.
4 words: I CAN FIX HIM.
No, no, no, no, no, hear me out! I can fix this one! Like, the red flags are there, but I can FIX him! Is he the one that caused us to have a traumatic brain injury? Maybe. Is he over-medicating us? Possibly. Am I gonna overlook all of that? Absolutely. I mean, who cares that I have an intense suspicion that we're not actually in a hospital and that we're just in a basement that's staged to look like a hospital. Who hasn't played doctor before? I ain't gonna fault this man for trying to heal his inner child and playing pretend. Like, honestly? Good for him.
Okay, but no, enough of that. This...was really good! It physically hurts me that this game is not done yet, but I am so excited that this game isn't done yet, because I am anticipating the hell out of what is next to come. The developer really has a strong foundation, and I can only imagine how they're going to build on it.
The pacing is a little slow, but it's not a bad slow! It's literally seeping us into the story, and I honestly feel like the pacing could not have been executed any better than it has been. This flowed exactly how I feel a demo or prologue or intro or whatever you wanna call it should. I just know that whenever there's an update, shit is going to start getting real, and I cannot wait for that!
Let's talk about the environment/atmosphere...ooh bitch. Let me just say this, I can watch all of the horror movies in the world and be totally fine. I can watch let's plays of horror games and read scary stories...but I cannot be in the situation myself. Haunted houses/trails? Playing horror games myself? Shit scares me out of my soul. That being said, that part where it was talking about being watched through the crack of the door? Chills. Fucking chills. I don't know what it was, because that's not anything revolutionary, especially in these yandere games, but for some reason, the way that the dev executed it just hit different. And the art! Like did you see the CG?! Lmao nah, nah, let me remind you. Actually, let me zoom in on it.
Like, what the fuck is thaaaaaaaaat?! (╥ᯅ╥)
I didn't mention this, because I was narrating/summarizing, but I had genuine fear tears when I read through it the first time, and it was somehow worse when I had to grab and attach the screenshots and type through that part. Like, I HATE shit like this, bro! Like, just make it obvious! Don't put faces and figures and shit like that in the darkness and barely out of view to the point where you can't see it unless you focus on it!
I was literally squinting my eyes and reading fast as shit because I wanted to read it, but I wanted to get through it and away from this scene, but I also wanted to prep myself for a possible jumpscare. Like, developer. De-ve-lo-per. Pop off. This part was so good, and I loved/hated every second.
I'm doing that yap thing that I do again, so I'm going to save you from the rest of my ramblings and start winding down. If you do not already have this downloaded and ready to play, you have got to do that expeditiously. I am telling you, I know I say this about a lot of these visual novels, but this is one that I absolutely cannot allow you to miss out on. This one is so good! Just don't get too invested, because it's just a demo. I suggest going to the game's page, putting your pride aside, and beg for an update as soon as possible -- respectfully, of course. It should be common sense, but don't harass the dev for an update ... but damn, do I hope they come through with an update soon. Very soon. Tomorrow actually...today.
Anyways, here's the link. Go download it, and tell the dev that your life is theirs, because I'm honestly contemplating starting a cult in their honour. I'll sacrifice the nearest weeb for two extra lines of reading material in this visual novel. I'm serious. I'm yapping again...
Okay, anyways! Ending it for realsies this time. Again, I highly recommend giving this game a playthrough. Here's the link to the game page and download...again. If you're able to donate to the cause, donate to the cause, as I'm sure the dev would seriously appreciate the monetary support. Oh! And just as a "pro"-but-not-really-tip: for right now, the choices are more of an "illusion of choice". The endings will be worded the same no matter what, so there's no extra dialogue or CGs, or secret options, or anything like that. It'll just be dialogue pertaining to that specific answer choice at that specific time, and then it's not brought up or mentioned again after it's done.
And...that's it! Lol I'm finally done yapping. Big preesh for getting this far! Please remember to drink water, don't be dumb, and hope to see you around~!
Prescription: LOVE (Demo)
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Like A Dream
Tom Bennett X (Pregnant Wife Reader)
Warnings Below
Word Count: 1,954
Tom Bennett Masterlist
Full Masterlist
Based on THIS request
Banners by @arcielee
A/N: Writing this came so naturally to me. I had my daughter young and was looking my best right before I got pregnant, so I used personal experience for this one 🥰 also I did an abnormal amount of research regarding the rarity of grapes during this time period and how special it would be for someone to find them available for purchase 🤣🤣
Warnings:: Body Dysmorphia, pregnancy, minor depression,smut, oral sex (F receiving)
"You alright love?" Your husband asks from his place on the sofa as you walk through the front door.
You sigh. "Yes, Tom," you carry the few bags with food you picked up from the market and place them on the kitchen counter.
Ever since Tom found out you were pregnant, he fawns over you. He hates the idea of you lifting a finger in your delicate condition. The problem? You are a very independent person and like your freedom.
"Not too convincing." he rises from the couch and goes to the counter, peeking through the bags to see what you bought.
"Mmmm, they had grapes!" He plucks a grape off the vine and pops it into his mouth.
"Tom!" You playfully hit his arm."They should be washed first! You don't know who had their hands all over em before I bought em!"
"I survived war, love." He leans his back against the counter. "Don't think a grape is gonna do me in when bombs couldn't"
"Yeah, well, they can still make ya sick, and I'm already sick every morning. Can't have the two of us going. " You huff and sit down in one of the old creaky wooden chairs that sit around the scuffed up second-hand table you successfully purchased off a neighbor about a year ago.
"Hey...." He leans down towards you and pushes your hair back. "You're tired and stressed, darlin. Let me take care of this, yeah?"
"I can do it." You grumble, annoyed, and try to pull yourself from the seat, but your near end of term pregnancy belly made standing an incredibly challenging endeavor.
Tom gives you a stern look. "More stubborn than I am." He gives you that cheeky smile, and you playfully roll your eyes.
"That's not possible" Tom is the most stubborn person on the planet as far as you were concerned and you know for a fact that even on your worst day you couldn't possibly be more stubborn than the man you married.
"Ah! I always knew ya married me for my looks." He wiggles his eyebrows at you as he unloads the groceries.
"What can I say? You got me with those blue eyes, and that smile." You look at him lovingly. You married him for a million reasons. He had pursued you relentlessly for weeks before you finally caved and went out with him. You didn't have any reason you made him wait other than thoroughly enjoying watching him try to convince you of something you already wanted desperately.
"Thank God for my parents! They gave me the good stuff!" He chuckles loudly, and you watch him in awe. Tom had this aura about him. He exudes confidence. Tom is handsome. He knows it, and he embraces it. You hardly ever see him without a smile on his face, and he takes almost nothing seriously.
You sigh to yourself as you move to try and pull yourself out of the chair again. Pregnancy is a magical thing. You know this. You feel it, yet you can't help the way it has you feeling about the body it leaves behind.
Your face is fuller. Something people have been complimenting you on, yet you hate it. Your hips are wider, and your already plump thighs have somehow grown bigger.
The discomfort with the changes in your body started gradually, but as you near the end of your pregnancy, less and less do you like what stares back at you in the mirror.
The tears start to well up in your eyes as you fight a losing battle to hold them back.
"Hey..hey! What is going on, love?" Tom crouches before you cupping your cheeks on either side of your face. He furrows his brows in obvious concern. "Talk to me," he gently rubs his thumb against your cheekbone. His heart breaks a little as he looks into your tear filled eyes. Upset with himself that you are this sad, and he didn't notice until now.
You take in a shakey breath and look at him with despair. "I'm a terrible mum, and the baby isn't even here yet." The flood gates break open, and tears finally start to pour down your face.
"W-why... why would you say that?" He scootches closer to you, placing his hands on either side of your thighs and rubbing his hands up and down.
"I should be happy! A good mother would be happy, but..." The tears are pouring out of your face now, the sadness, guilt, and shame bubbling over and making you feel like you have lost complete control over your emotional state.
"But what, sweetheart?" He drops down to his knees, pushing himself between your legs while he continues to caress your thighs. "You can talk to me, oh darlin, please talk to me."
"I ... I ... I ... I hate it!" You start to sob your face in your hands. "I'm tired, everything aches, it's difficult to move, and all that would be bearable if .... if i didn't look so disgusting now"
"Disgusting??" Tom balks at the statement. "Someone say something to you?" His face contorts in anger. "Was that Mike arse three doors down, wasn't it?" Tom nearly growls. "That's about how much he hates me nothing to do with you, darlin. I'll go sort him." Tom shoots up quickly, tossing on his jacket.
"TOM!" You screech just as he is about to fly out the front door, most likely to rearrange Mike's face. Mike and Tom do not like each other it is certainly not a secret in your neighborhood. Yet Mike has never been anything but pleasant to you. After all, his issue was with Tom, and he wasn't going to take that out on you for simply being Tom's wife.
"No one said anything to me, I have eyes! And a mirror! I can see it clearly for myself!" His heart shatters completely when he hears the crack in your voice, his jaw drops, and he wants to retort but quickly stops himself. The priority is you. He needs to take care of you, so as aggravated as he is, he softens his features and turns back to you.
He drops his jacket on the back of one of the other kitchen chairs and takes your hand. "Let's get you into bed, you need rest" You sniffle and nod as he places your hand in his, while gently holding your lower back with the other making sure to get you out of the chair in the most comfortable way possible.
Once you're up and walking, he wraps an arm around you, gently leading you up the stairs and into the bedroom . He helps you get into the bed, raising your legs and sliding them in before crawling in next to you, his face directly across from yours as you both lay on your side facing each other.
"Thank you," your whisper is gentle with a hint of lingering sadness as he reaches over and caresses right under your eye with his thumb.
"You. are. beautiful." He moves closer to you and puts his forehead against yours "Always".
You chuckle slightly. "You are a good husband, Tom Bennett." You lean forward and kiss him gently.
He pulls back from you, cupping your face in his hands. "Look at me"
You look him directly in the eyes. Yours are still a bit watery, so you try to blink back the tears.
"You. are. beautiful." He repeats."You are always beautiful, don't you ever forget that. Big, pregnant, bald even, you are always beautiful"
You giggle and sigh. "You're too good to me"
"Aven't been good enough love. Or you wouldn't feel like this. " He kisses you softly but deeply while gently rolling you onto your back.
"Been neglectin' ya. Work and allat." He kisses down your neck."I'll make it up."
You hum contentedly and place your hand on the back of his head. Arousal builds up in your core, but you're so tired you don't know if you have it in you right now.
"Don't know if I have the energy for this right now." You chuckle as you close your eyes, just enjoying the feeling of him on your neck.
"Just lie back and relax. This is all about you"
He moves down your body, placing a delicate kiss to your belly before pushing your dress up around your hips.
"Oh Tom, you don't have to do this." You say as he pulls your knickers down your legs.
" I wish I did have to do it. Wish it was an everyday requirement, but I guess I have to settle for doing it when you'll let me. " He brings his hands to your heat, pushing your legs out wider.
"Stunning site, really,"
"Tom!" You chuckle and reach down to give him a whack, but he catches your hand and holds it.
He licks a stripe straight up your center. Your hand squeezes his tight, letting him know the pleasure that is building up.
He gently flicks your bundle of nerves with the tip of his tongue, bringing his free hand to your hip and rubbing circles there with his thumb.
You involuntarily move your hips, desperate for more friction. "You're supposed to be relaxin," he taunts
He returns to your clit swallowing it whole and sucking on it harshly while rolling his tongue over it.
"Oh god, Tom!" You can't help but yell out, your hips taking on a mind of their own as you move against his face.
He smiles against you as he releases your clit nudging it with his nose as he travels lower lapping up your juices before sticking his tongue inside.
Your eyes fly open as you look at the ceiling above you, panting harshly. If someone asked you your name right now, you wouldn't even know the answer. Your head is completely empty of everything, save for the pleasure you are experiencing.
His brings his hand off your hip, the other still grasping your hand tightly. He rubs at your clit with his thumb as he fucks you with his tongue.
"Ahhh. Ahh!" You squeeze his hand tightly as you writhe against his face, getting closer and closer to sweet release.
His hand and tongue switch places as he slides two fingers into you while sucking on your engorged nerve.
"Oh my god, Tom, I can't. I can't!" You don't know what you can't do. You just know that you can't.
He pulls back momentarily. " Oh yes, you can love, and ya will"
He brings his face back to your heat moving it from side to side over your clit while he increases the speed of his fingers.
Everything that happens now is automatic. Your legs lift up and squeeze his head as you arch your back and gasp for air as a title wave of pleasure washes over you.
Tom gives you a few more kitten licks as you ride out your high and stops when you start to twitch.
he crawls back up next to you and flops on his back, panting. "You're. .....beautiful.... don't.... ever... doubt .... that" he rolls onto his side and gazes at your face. "Promise me"
"I promise I'll try Tom." He knows that is the best answer he is going to get out of you so he just smiles.
"While we're talking about promises, I need you to make just one more tiny promise," he grins at you cheekily, sliding his body over so he is right up against yours.
"What?"
He takes your hand and places it over the massive bulge in his trousers
"That you'll help me with this"
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#tom bennett x reader#tom bennett#tom bennet x reader#tom bennet fanfic#tom bennet fanfiction#ewan mitchell verse#tom bennett fanfiction#tom bennett fanfic#ewan mitchell fanfic#ewan mitchell#ewan nation#ewanverse#tom bennett x you#tom bennett smut#jess fics#my cunty bf
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