#because every time it's mattered he WASN'T and people he loved were lost to his inability to protect them and he carries that
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Why is the anime so weird, it's not even the same series dude?? It's like,
Anime:
GOKU: I have a great idea to bring peace to the universe, and my leadership and compassion alone will unite us all. I have No Flaws and am A True Relatable Everyman :)
VEGETA: NO! I AM THE BEST AND I WILL CAUSE PROBLEMS UNTIL I AM RECOGNIZED AS SUCH!!!!
Manga:
GOKU: Vegeta what's cornmeal made of? I know it's what the corn eats, but what's it made of? VEGETA: Hey Kakarot let's play the quiet game until one of us dies.
#dbtag#I do not understand this writing it's so bad aklsdlkasjd#Toei wants Goku to be Clark Kent SO bad and he SO isn't lmao#they're so good and dumb and rounded and complex in the manga what is the anime so afraid of#Toriyama said 'no no this man is a detached faux-immortal who has a dear pure heart but he's childlike and selfish even though he's kind'#and toei went 'got it goku's never done anything wrong ever in his life'#toriyama said 'Vegeta's gone through a lot and he's finally settling into his more mature leadership role with the confidence he's earned'#and toei said 'got it vegeta has the confidence of a high school bully except now he can interact with his family as a comedy bit'#girl hWHAT#Toei trying to group Goku and Vegeta as two people who would rather train than be with their families and Toriyama said NO Vegeta wants#to be HOME this is the first time in years that he's HAD ONE and it makes him HAPPY to be with his wife and children!!#Vegeta trains so that he can protect the things he doesn't want to lose again and Goku trains because it's the thing that makes him happies#They are NOT the same lmao And yeah Vegeta still wants to beat Goku but he also knows that Gohan could dogwalk both of them if he wanted#He also knows Trunks and Goten are going to surpass them it's not about being the best anymore he's past that he just wants to Not Need Gok#He just doesn't want to have to rely on Goku to save the day he wants to be Enough on his own he just wants to know he can be#because every time it's mattered he WASN'T and people he loved were lost to his inability to protect them and he carries that#Like Whis diagnosed him with anxiety and cptsd out in the open and Beerus said he was self-centered for feeling guilt#+ he lowkey enjoys the rivalry it keeps him goal-oriented so he can't get complacent and lazy which is what triggered his Buu Saga breakdow#realized how Fucked Up it was that having a home and loving family made him feel like he was failing and went 'wait no I won actually??'#now he's chill as fuck in the manga. cool confident leader.#and sometimes he is childish and dumb with Goku as a treat#you know what rocks about his rivalry with Goku in Super though is that it's Playful. Vegeta is learning how to Play.#You ever seen a shelter dog get introduced to a really playful dog and it takes a minute for the shelter dog to understand it's safe here#And then they're both running around the backyard playing hot potato with one braincell?? That's Goku and Vegeta's relationship#and the way the anime sleeps on that dynamic is so fucking criminal especially when it's literally canon it's in print it's out there#you had the playbook how'd you fumble it this bad#anyway that's my 25+ year blorbo thoughts I love Geets a lot okay#And I love Goku in the manga a lot I'd forgotten that he's actually a great character when Toei's not fucking up his whole vibe
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Why don't you love me?
Anthony Bridgerton x reader
Summary: Y/n and Anthony are in an arranged marriage. When she stops trying to make the relationship work and be the perfect wife, Anthony realizes what he's lost. Will he be able to get her back?
(gif is not mine)
It wasn't the marriage she wanted. And it wasn't what he wanted, because, in fact, he didn't even want to be married. And he didn't mind showing it. But for Y/n, she tried to make the best of their unfortunate situation.
It all started at the beginning of the season when Violet Bridgerton decided that her firstborn had been single for too long. So, she spoke to Y/n's parents, who were good friends of hers, and they both decided that a marriage between the two would be beneficial to both families. Anthony was going to have the support of someone who would take Violet's place as Viscountess and Lady Bridgerton. For Y/n's life, in this society, having a husband was essential and this marriage would allow social advancement.
Thus, Anthony and Y/n agreed with this decision. The preparation for the wedding was carried out quickly and this event was the biggest news for days. Lady Whistledown didn't help matters either by immediately releasing an advert showing her doubts about Anthony having a wife.
This only worsened Y/n's mood, who already feared being married to Viscount Bridgerton, as she was now doubting all the lovers Anthony could take to their bed. Would he not respect their marriage? Did she just want an heir and take care of the children? With these doubts, she said the "I do" in front of hundreds of people watching the ceremony, and allowed just one tear to fall.
From the beginning, Anthony made a point of making it clear that their marriage was purely a compromise, and that he would never truly love her. He was going to fulfill his role and try to have an heir and outside the house, they would act like a happy couple, but it wouldn't go beyond that. In silence, Y/n just offered him a nod, showing that she understood.
However, since then, nothing has happened between them. Anthony allowed her to have her own room, something Y/n was more than grateful for. Having to look at the face of her husband who would never love her every time she fell asleep would be too painful.
She was expecting that on some nights he would enter her room to try to get her with child. But none of that happened, which only confused Y/n more. Was he so disgusted by the idea of being married to her that he didn't even want to have pleasure with her?
So she tried to distract herself with tasks that could take some of the work off Anthony's shoulders and try to be the perfect wife. But Anthony still refused to spend more than five minutes alone with her. At breakfast, he was already at the office when Y/n woke up to go eat, at night he preferred to spend time with his brothers instead of returning home. He was making everyone's life difficult and Y/n was starting to get more and more sad. Would this be her routine until the end of her life? Trying to please a husband who didn't want her?
It was on a summer afternoon that Y/n, upon returning from a social gathering with Anthony's mother and sister, realized how hot the mansion was. She quickly remembered how Viscount's office, the few times she had been there, was directly in the sun which made it even hotter. So she decided to be brave and try to have at least a friendly relationship with her husband, so she went to the kitchen to get a glass of water.
With growing nerves, Y/n went to Anthony's office door and knocked on the wood. After hearing Anthony's voice, she opened the door, finding him plus Benedict, who had become good friends with Y/n.
"Oh, I apologize if I am interrupting." she said shyly, keeping to the doorway.
"You are." Anthony immediately agreed in a deep voice, not paying attention to her and turning his attention back to the papers.
At the same time, his brother hurried to assure Y/n, "You're not interrupting anything. You even saved me from Anthony's boring lecture here."
The woman smiled uncomfortably. "Right. I just came to bring you a cup of water. It's so warm outside. I wasn't aware you were here, Mr. Bridgerton, but I can go and also bring you some water."
"Thank you, Y/n, I would—"
However, he couldn't finish his sentence as Anthony hit the table, causing his wife to jump in fright and immediately take a step back. Her reaction made Anthony's expression show some regret, but he quickly hid it. A silence fell between the three.
"I'm fed up, Y/n! Can't you understand that men are trying to work?! Go back to your life of looking at flowers and walking around without having to do anything and leave!"
Y/n's mouth opened and closed several times, trying to understand what had just happened. Finally, she pursed her lips and her eyes turned cold. "I apologize, Lord Bridgerton. It won't happen again. If you'll excuse me."
When she left the room, Benedict looked at his brother in shock. "That was so harsh. The poor girl was trying to be nice and cared enough to bring you a glass of water. If you don't want it, I'll have it. I'm talking about the glass and her."
"Don't you dare." he muttered with a clenched jaw, glaring furiously at Benedict. Where did this anger come from just thinking about Y/n with another man? "Now, let's go back to discuss how you spent money on a bet."
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Y/n's behavior with Anthony changed completely. Everyone noticed that the Viscountess finally reached her limit, and stopped being the friendly wife, now looking coldly at her husband whenever they passed each other in the mansion. However, as a couple and heads of the family, they still had obligations to fulfill together.
Public appearances were more tense, but they still managed to keep a smile on their faces and talk to all the ladies who asked about their marriage and when they would have children, giving short answers so that nothing would end up in Lady Whistledown's hands. They also attended a horse race, even betting on different horses that would win. Y/n ended up winning the bet, and her smug look irritated Anthony for the rest of the day, something his brothers were quick to tease him about.
But despite not liking Anthony after his cruel words, which Y/n still thought about constantly, she adored his sisters and mother. They had accepted Y/n into the family, including her in their gatherings and even being a should to cry on. Daphne had already said more than once that she would have no problem going to Anthony and try to talk some sense into him, but Y/n refused. Anthony already didn't like her, if he thought she was turning his family against him he would hate her even more. And she didn't need to make her life worse than it already was.
One day, when she went with Anthony to the Bridgerton mansion to drop off some documents, Hyacinth, Anthony's younger sister, took her aside. Y/n followed the girl to the bathroom where she, with teary eyes and trembling lips, asked her if she was going to die when she started bleeding from her lady parts. Hyacinth also revealed to her that she wanted to go to her mother, but she had gone shopping with Francesca and was alone at home with just Collin. Y/n, very calmly and gently, assured her that it was a normal thing and that all women went through this, explaining what she should do.
It was no secret that Y/n was happy that Hyacinth trusted her with this scary situation and that she was able to help the girl. Despite all the problems in her marriage, she now had a role in helping Anthony's sisters and she never wanted to fail in that.
To Y/n's surprise, Hyacinth ended up giving her a big hug, remaining attached to her for the rest of the afternoon. Her period was making her so affectionate, more than she already was, that Y/n couldn't stop a big smile from appearing on her face at receiving so much affection.
Anthony, when he finally finished talking to Collin about the documents he brought, I was surprised to see his sister on the couch hugging Y/n. "Hyacinth, what are you doing?"
"Hugging my sister-in-law, brother. But you don't know what that is, do you?" she snapped. The girl's change in mood made Y/n have to put a hand over her mouth to keep Anthony from hearing the laughter that escaped her.
The shock on Anthony's face was comical. His little sister was basically choosing Y/n over him. And in truth, he didn't judge her because his wife was, without a doubt, better than him. And she deserved so much better.
On the other hand, his heart warmed when he saw the bond that the two had created. It was clear that Y/n felt great affection for his family. Could it be that if he had accepted this marriage from the beginning, they would now be a happy family? That they would spend afternoons together, cuddling on the couch and talking to his siblings? All these thoughts were racing through his mind, and the guilt was growing so much that he felt like he was going to vomit.
"Lord Bridgerton?" that sweet voice he had come to adore brought him out of his thoughts. He hated that since he snapped at her, she never called him by his first name again.
"What?" he asked, still disoriented.
Y/n was looking at him like he was stupid. "I asked if you were ready to leave. Hyacinth already went to her room to rest. I would like to do the same. So you must make haste."
Her bossy tone almost made his lips curl into a smile, but he controlled himself in time. "Of course, wife. We shall leave now. But I have to ask, what happened between you and my sister?"
"All you need to know is that she's fine and she's a woman now. But don't worry, as your wife, I'll handle these situations. Unless you prefer me to go look at the flowers, take a walk, and do nothing?"
The hint, which was delivered with great anger, caused the man to blush in shame and lower his head. Y/n didn't wait for his answer, taking her coat from a maid and walking to the carriage. He had screwed everything up.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
A few more days had passed and the situation between Y/n and Anthony had only gotten stranger. The day after the situation with Hyacinth, Y/n was coming down from her room to go get breakfast, as she always did, when she came across Anthony at the table, appearing to be waiting for her to eat.
Y/n stopped abruptly, looking at him in shock. "What are you doing?"
"I'm waiting for you so we can have breakfast. I have to go see my brothers again today to talk business, so I was thinking you could come with me and spend some time with my sisters. My mother She's also been saying how she hasn't seen you in a while. That is, only if you want to go. If not, I'll just go… Or I'll stay here to keep you company, whatever you want." he choked up, finishing his speech by drinking some milk, perhaps to calm his nerves.
Y/n remained in place without moving. She looked at Anthony strangely, as if doubting that those words had even come out of his mouth.
"It was silly of me to ask—"
"No," she interrupted him. "It's fine. I would actually like to go and spend time with your sisters. They are lovely. I shall go get ready then."
"Aren't you going to have breakfast with me first?"
"Lord Bridgerton, I've been eating breakfast alone since we got married and I came to live with you. I think you can handle doing the same for a day. Excuse me." she said with an exaggerated smile, turning her back on him and starting to go back to her room. However, she turned back to go get a cake that was on the table. "But I'm hungry so I will eat this in my chambers."
"Call me Anthony!" he exclaimed before she was completely gone. He had a desperate look, almost looking like he needed to hear his name come out of her lips.
"No."
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Like every year, the Queen decided to throw a ball to celebrate the Diamond of the Season. The most eligible maiden on the marriage market. Y/n still remembers the first ball she attended — Daphne was the diamond of the season, but Y/n also managed to dance with a few suitors. Of course, in the end, she didn't end up marrying any of them. However, the nerves she felt at that ball were equal to or less than what she felt today: her first ball married to Anthony.
The Viscount and Viscountess had entered together, her hand resting on his arm, followed by Violet and the rest of his siblings. Tonight they would have to be on the lookout for suitors who might want to dance with Francesca, the diamond of the season.
Anthony quietly appreciated his wife. She looked breathtaking in her dress, her hair neatly tied back that showed off her majestic earrings, given by Anthony on their wedding day. He was proud to have a wife like Y/n, and he regreted that he hadn't shown it since day one.
While the Bridgertons started to go their own way, interacting with other people and dancing, Y/n preferred to stay in the corner watching the couples dancing. She longed to experience that with Anthony, but not in a forced way like some were. No, she wanted it to be felt, for them to dance to the music and really appreciate that moment.
But instead of her husband approaching her, it was another man, Earl Cavendish. Y/n remembered some moments when she had already seen him, as he was looking to get married this season. As she approached her, with a confident air, Y/n lowered her head to compliment him, "Good afternoon, Earl Cavendish."
"Lady Bridgerton, a pleasure to meet you. I must say, you look flawless. Would you give me the pleasure of dancing with me?" he extended his hand.
Y/n's eyes widened, not knowing what to do. People had already started looking at them, whispering among themselves. However, she didn't have to respond to the invitation as she felt an arm wrap around her waist and bring her closer to him.
"Excuse me, Earl Cavendish, but I want to have the pleasure of dancing with my beautiful wife first." Anthony said with his jaw clenched, looking him up and down menacingly. "I'm sure you will be able to find other ladies to dance with tonight. Just not my wife."
The two men looked at each other for a few seconds, neither of them wanting to back down. Anthony grew more and more furious, her wrists clenching and bringing Y/n even closer to him, but careful not to hurt her.
"Very well. I shall leave. I hope to see you again someday, Lady Bridgerton."
"I will —" Anthony began by exclaiming in anger as the Earl walked towards another woman, not having liked the way he looked at what was his.
"You will do nothing." the Viscountess snapped coldly. "I can't understand you, you ignore me, you treat me badly, and then you act protective when another man shows interest in me? I never said anything about you having lovers, even though I didn't like that in our marriage."
"What? I've never disrespected our marriage like that, Y/n. In the past I've done a lot of things, but since we got married the only woman I'll look at and touch is you. I don't want anyone else."
"You have a funny way of showing it." she laughed sarcastically, feeling increasingly emotional. "I have to go get some air. You should go check on Francesca again."
Feeling the cold night air, Y/n's heart began to calm down. It was so difficult having to deal with Anthony's changes of attitude, she couldn't understand him. She just wanted to be loved, and since that wasn't possible, she preferred that they stay as far away from each other as possible since being friends didn't seem to be an option either.
"I'm sorry." the voice she had come to know so well whispered behind her. Y/n refused to turn around, leaning against the balcony and taking deep breaths to control her emotions. "I shouldn't have acted the way I did. I know that marrying me shouldn't have been your choice either, but I was scared. I was scared to have a wife, because that meant I had another person in my life that I could lose ."
She finally had the courage to turn around and look into Anthony's brown eyes. They held back tears and showed the sadness, regret and anger that Anthony felt.
"I'm so angry with myself for the way I treated you. You deserve so much better than this. And I'm sorry I couldn't give you that. The cruel words I said to you but didn't mean. I was scared to let you in. in my heart, so I tried to push you away. Believe that all I want is to have you in my arms. To love you. To start a family with you. Please, I promise I will do better. And every day I will try to reward you for what you do.
"Lord Bridgerton—"
"Please, call me Anthony. It pains me when you call me like that. Reminds me that I was… Am so close to losing the best thing of my life. I will kneel before you and beg for forgiveness if that's what you want." he murmured with a hand over his heart, beginning to kneel on the ground without hesitation.
"There is no need for that… Anthony." she enjoyed seeing the relief and happiness that spread across his face upon hearing his first name. "I just don't understand why you didn't love me? And now you want to try to make our marriage work?"
"That's the thing, I have always loved you. I love you. My whole body, my heart, feels love for you. That has never changed." he revealed desperately. "I was a coward and didn't know how to deal with my feelings. Because they are so strong that my heart feels like it's going to come out of my chest. Please, give me another chance."
"Hmm, I don't now." The look of disappointment was so marked on Anthony's face, almost looking like he was ready to burst into tears, that Y/n stopped his suffering and showed him an amused smile, making him understand that she was joking. "I think I want you to suffer a little more to get my forgiveness."
"I will do anything for you, Y/n. Ask me the world and I will give it to you."
"Such a romantic now, aren't you?" she whispered, admiring his features.
She didn't realize their faces were so close until she felt his nose trace the delicate skin of her cheek. A gasp escaped her mouth, and Anthony took the opportunity to connect their lips in an unforgettable kiss.
Anthony pulled away quicker than he wanted, but he needed to make sure this was really what his wife wanted. "I love you."
"Kiss me again, and maybe I will also tell you that."
And what his wife wanted, he did. The two remained on the balcony, enjoying the comfort the other gave them. They still had a long way to go, but they knew that from that moment on, their lives would change drastically for the better. They had each other.
#anthony bridgerton#anthony bridgerton x reader#bridgerton#bridgerton imagine#benedict bridgerton#anthony bridgerton x you#collin bridgerton#daphne bridgerton#eloise bridgerton#bridgerton x reader#anthony bridgerton x female reader#anthony bridgerton x y/n
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You think the Zone has its version of Comic Con?
Like? Think about it. You have literally all of time to work on it, your Magnum Opus, your life's work. That DREAM comic. All the supplies you could ever wish for. Endless paper. Endless ink. You can practice and practice for CENTURIES until it's JUST right.
Wouldn't you want to share it?
There are definitely Ghosts who have Obsessions that make them collect.
And two people meeting would lead to a group. Lead to a bigger group. Lead to a large group. A gathering. A crowd even. Eventually you need a Lair to meet IN. It becomes An Event.
People hear about it.
Want to bring other art mediums. Food stalls. Report on it. It grows. Shoot offs start happening. Niche meet ups.
But like?
Unlike comic con? It's all FREE. Sure, you might have fork over the ecto to make your copy. And yeah, weaker ghosts can only do that so many times. Will have to prioritize. But? They can come back after leaving for a nap. Ask a buddy to come with. There ARE work arounds.
Just? Imagine the unbelievable HIPE? Danny would feel? But be unable to TELL anyone about? Zone Con happens several times a year! Cause so many people wanna come. The Zone being infinite, after all.
Problem 1? They're using THEIR standard of a "year". Which is actual 5 earth years. So it's only happens every year and a half for him. And Problem 2? He can't even TALK about how excited he is about Z Con with anyone (outside his friends and family) because they haven't heard of it and might Ask Questions.
It's ALSO held in a part of the Zone that's like? Three days of flying away from the portal. And no amount of begging is gonna get any of his loved ones to camp in the Speeder for around six-ish days just to go to a Con.
So you can imagine his DELIGHT. His utter JOY and *Target Spotted* "!!!" Noise, when? In the crowd? He spots A HUMAN! Hi fellow human!!! Omg, wanna be Con Besties? *doesn't even wait for an answer*
So now? This sad, blonde, deeply lost and kinda alarmed, trench coat dude? Is Danny's new Z Con Going Bestie! You got a map yet, bestie? No? That's cool, he has one. By the way, he has human food in the Speeder if you nee-
YES!
Cause, see, here's the THING. John? Lost to the Realms Infinte. Or Infinte Realms. Translation was iffy... and on fire... like the rest of the building. It was him or the kids those psychos had kidnapped, for what fucked "ritual" the voices in their heads, that THEY thought were demons but frankly he's pretty sure was just feedback from-
Look, doesn't matter, he had to choose. He always knew someday he'd have too. That even twisting Luck and talking fast wouldn't quite be enough. And he had to decide, in that moment, which outcome mattered more to him. They get out safe, or he does.
Wasn't much of a question, was it?
So, there he is. Staring down oblivion and all those debts unpaid. 'Bout to see who's gonna come for him this time, and take what left of wretched soul. When? He bleeds on the FUCKIN two-bit crap circle they squiggled in God only knows what. Remembers that "oh YEAH, set dressings!" Sometimes when you focus too hard on insuring a Good Outcome?
You weird weird as shit byproducts happening on the side to balance it all out.
Or BAD ones.
He wakes up someone fucking green and crowded. For the life of him can't tell you which one it is. And THAT was of course, bout two days ago.
Biggest and most immediate problem? He... does NOT recognize what flavor of magical fuckery this is. Doesn't seem Fae. And doesn't smell like Hell. There are... there are honest to God BOOTH BABES hanging around. Hunks too. The view is LOVELY.
And nerdy.
Very, very nerdy.
But he isn't THAT out of touch. So he should recognize SOMETHING. Or at least the languages. But nope! It's like aliens and magic had a nerd baby and dipped it in GREEN. And the worst thing? Is there is food everywhere, but it all glows and John's not stupid enough to eat it.
Then? Sweet merciful fuck. Salvation! Some teeny bopper Barely No Longer Teen fresh faced INFANT of a Hero kid. With a SHIP. Who has FOOD and a clear idea of where they are. Hello~ John's new BEST FRIEND. Yes. Absolutely. Con Buddies, whatever.
Just feed me, kid.
Only? Once he inhales like 5 "Fenton rations"? He only gets half way through introducing himself before getting interrupted. Kid hears "magic" and "occult Detective" and just? Goes "oh! So you wanna check out the magic Ally with me? Sam wanted me to pick up some witchy stuff!"
..............how magic?
(In Which? Constantine becomes Danny's interdimensional Con buddy)
@the-witchhunter @hypewinter @hdgnj @mutable-manifestation @lolottes @nerdpoe
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✧༺ CRAZY CHOSO
chosoxfem!reader, nsfw, heavy smut, possessive choso, crazy choso, choso eating it out
choso stare down at his phone, his heart is empty, he feels like it isn't even here anymore- you stole it from him. you stole it from him a week ago, the day you decided to break up after a heated argument, and what bothers choso the most is that- he knows, he knows it his fault, you have always been patient with him, you have always showed your love to him- showered him with it.
even when- choso heart tightened, even when he never did- tears swell his eyes, even when all you received was a cold hearted jerk who doesn't know how to love, choso choke on his breath, tears running down his eyes- it finally hit him like a truck, after he finally lost you, after you finally realized he isn't worth your love, reality hit him.
he can't breath, fuck he can't breath, choso grab a hold of his dark locks, tugging them hard, fuck how could he- how could he treat his baby like this, how could he never say a simple i love you, even when you said it hundreds, thousands, millions times to him, even as- he chokes on his sobs, even as you left this door, your final word was "I love you, choso" and he didn't even go after you he just stood there, staring at you dumbfounded, why couldn't he just return your i love yous, is he this fucking much of a loser to be embarrassed to show his love to you?
the house was so quite without you, the only sounds that filled it was his choked sobs, he feels like he'll throw up, choso hurriedly made his way toward the kitchen to grab a cup of water- but what catch his attention as he was opening the freezer, is the sticky notes- your sticky notes, that you never forgot to leave for choso everytime he left to work, his hands shakily grabs into one of them.
"hope you enjoy the lunch i made you love ya :p".
a tear runs down his face.
"i left you some sweets today, even if you don't like them eat them love yaaaaa >:(".
another tear roll down.
he clenchs them against his heart- the heart that is bleeding sorrow, he slides down the fridge, hitting the cold kitchen floor.
it's been a week since you left choso, for a break as you're calling it, you sigh even though it's only been a week you miss your grumpy man. even though he might be cold in front of other peoples eyes- to you he was just a comfort person- a comfort pillow, cuddling him every time you can, choso was like the comfort blanket that people keep with them from childhood- no matter what other people say, you still love your little comfort blanket- your choso.
you look outside the window, it was raining, you couldn't help but think about how you would be cuddling with choso right now in this rainy day- while you tell him to read you whatever book he has in his hands, you listen to his rough voice, while he gently stroke his hand down your spine, putting you to sleep.
you wipe your tears immediately once you hear a knock on your door, you frown making your way to see who is it, at such weather, you were stunned to see chosos wet figure at your door, his clothes were snugged into him from being wet, his hair was dripping a few dots of water down his face, and your heart clenchs as you stare at his blood shot eyes.
"choso-"
he didn't mutter any words, he just simply held you up by your hips grabbing you so hard that you're sure that it will leave red marks on your sensitive skin later on. placing your heavy thighs on his board shoulder like they weight nothing, his face making direct contact with your bare pussy- regretting masturbating and forgetting to put your panties on.
"what are you doing?"
you couldn't finish your sentence because he's already shoving his tongue up your pussy, sucking, licking the juice from the orgasm you had an hour ago, an orgasm you had thinking about him, he clearly wasn't here to talk- he was here to do a lot more than talking.
it's been a week since you had something this good on sucking on your clit- something as good as chosos tongue, suckling on your clit like it's a nipple- like he's trying to get milk out of it- but the only difference is that he isn't trying to get milk, but he's trying to rip an orgasm out of your cunt.
and of course he did, you grasp hard on his long black hair, gasping out to the ceiling, arching your pussy into his mouth, making sure he drinks all of your juice and he glady do. like a starved man who hasn't had water for day, and your pussy was a river of water for him.
you look at him, thinking he will let you go by now, but he didn't, he keeps his face shoved into your pussy, it drives you crazy the way his nose brush against your clit everytime he breaths.
"could put me down, please?"
he clearly had no intentions of putting you down anytime soon, because he selfishly licks, slurps at every drip of arousal that leave you. you weren't sure what to do, you always knew that choso was obsessive in his own way, but you only got to experience a bit of it, but now that you left him you're sure it triggered a part of him that you've never seen before. he keeps sniffing, trialling his nose on your clit, wetting his face with your wet cunt.
"darling" you moan out.
he simply lock his lips on clit again sucking on it, his eyes are closed as if he's a youngling sucking, his long eyelashs tickling your belly, ripping a giggle out of you, making him finally look at you, with his red-puffy lips wet from your juice.
"can you put me down now?"
he pulled you from his shoulders but kept you in his arms. as he led you into the bedroom, glancing at your underwear that you left on the floor. choso placed you on the bed and pressed you against it with his body. he was cornering you, engaging in some primal display of possessiveness that he never showed you before.
his hands were roaming around your body, he was clearly trying to in print you again, feel your warm skin against his hands again, he keeps his face inside of your neck rubbing his face on it, as he stroke his hand from your thighs to your ass, just to make his way to your breast, as soon as he feels the fabric of your bra- he doesn't like it one bit, so he simply rip it off, out of his way.
cold air hit your nipples making them harden, he trails his face from your neck slowly to your breast, brushing his lips softly against your nipples, breathing in but not taking it inside of his mouth. he just wanted to feel you, feel your skin against his again, because he clearly thought he won't get to feel that ever again.
your heart clenchs at the thought of what he might have felt, the feeling of being left all alone, choso never acted like this before- right now he's acting like a baby he never was able to act like, he was always putting a hard on act.
you quickly snatch his head closer to your body, holding him close, so close that you can listen to his pluse "it's okay baby, I won't ever leave you again."
you can feel it pick up, quick, clearly affected by your words, you smile knowing it always made him shy whenever you called him baby no matter how many times you say it, he still gets frustrated. he doesn't say anything, he just look up at you, before he opens his mouth that was brushing against your nipple and place it inside his mouth, his tongue was quick to circle the bud.
"we- we should really talk about..."
he makes sure to coat both of your nipples with his silvia, leaving your nipples all swollen and red, before he picks you by your hips again and placing you on his, clearly didn't have enough.
you were suffocating his face. again. choso was a 6 feet big guy, so that clearly didn't bother him.
he kept on slurping on your pussy, till it's silk with your orgasm and his silvia, making sure to print your taste against his tongue so it will last for weeks.
"okay," you panted, your sweaty forehead now resting on the cool sheets, while your defeated cunt hovered over his mouth.
"we need to talk now. you've spent half the day licking me."
but the only words choso mutter out were- "sleep now" he horsely says. as he snuggle his face into your boobs, you were about to complain till you felt wet drops slide down your cleavage, you shut your lips together, gently stroking his hair pushing him further into you.
but choso didn't have any intentions of sleeping because you feel his rough, huge hands make their way toward your wet pussy drenched with your orgasm and his saliva. he slowly warped his lips around your nipples, drawing circles with his tongue.
you felt him tug his pants down, as he frees his huge leaking cock out of it, he slowly shove his cock inside of your tight cunt and he couldn't help whimpering on your nipples, missing your warm, wet pussy.
"shh it's okay baby, I'm here- I'm here" you whine out, drunk on the feeling of being stuffed with his cock.
it only takes him a few rock of his hips before he's spilling his hot cum inside of you, you thought he was gonna pull out- he didn't he kept his cock inside of you all night, while your nipples brushed against his lips as he softly breath out, sleeping in your embrace.
you can feel him get hard again inside of you every once in awhile so he just jults awake, stare at your nipples with hazy eyes before he takes your fat hard nub into his mouth, suckling, biting on it while he start rocking his cock into your already cum filled pussy, till he fill it again, fall asleep and the process repeat till the next morning.
#choso x reader#choso smut#choso x you#choso x y/n#choso kamo#jjk choso#choso#choso kamo x reader#jujutsu choso#sukuna smut#sukuna x reader#jjk sukuna#ryomen sukuna#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen choso#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo smut#gojo x reader#itadori smut#itadori x reader#toji smut#toji x reader#gojo satoru#jjk fanfic#sukuna ryomen x reader#sukuna
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Well, I Wasn't On That Tunnel ❤️
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Please don't look too much into the plot holes. Canon can suck my ass, I'm making my own, xoxo 💋
Pairings: Ghoap x Reader.
Warnings: Poly relationship, mentions of death, mentions of guns, rotating POV (mostly Simon's), Spoilers → amnesia, smut, voyeurism
“THE TUNNEL IT'S COLLAPSING! FOLLOW MAKAROV! I'LL TAKE JOHNNY OUT!”
That was the last thing Ghost heard of you.
It's been months since Johnny and you were declared KIA on that mission.
You weren't even meant to be inside, you were the medic, you were supposed to wait outside.
But the moment Makarov shot Johnny he panicked.
Ghost panicked.
And Simon panicked.
You came in running, panting for the effort of carrying with you the medical bag half your size.
You were the one who told them to run. To go after Makarov and kill him.
You were trying to wake up Johnny, Ghost knew it was a lost cause. He couldn't find the pulse, he was gone.
His Johnny was gone.
The last thing he expected was that he was about to lose you too.
Once outside, he kept looking at the tunnel. Waiting for you to come out, whether it was dragging Johnny's body or alone; it didn't matter. You needed to get out.
But after the tunnel collapsed and you didn't get out, it was Price who finally pushed Ghost away.
He barely remembers getting back to base, doesn't remember what Price kept telling him on the helicopter, doesn't remember skipping meals for days, doesn't remember crying himself to sleep for weeks.
But he remembers your face, he remembers Johnny's face.
Oh, what a coward he was.
Two people that he loved, that found their way under his skin right into his heart. Two people that Simon wanted to grow old next to, two people that made Simon want to wake up every morning.
And he was still not brave enough to confess his feelings to neither of them.
He used to stay awake late at night dreaming about how he would do it. After a long time of debating with himself, figuring out what those feelings inside of him were.
Until he figured out it was love, only to them have to face the complex situation of loving two people at the same time.
But even how complicated of a man Simon Riley was, when it comes to his wants it all turns simpler. If on the menu there are two dishes that he likes? He is getting both, obviously. Why choose?
So if all his lonely and twisted life he had never loved anyone, now he suddenly fell in love with two people. He wasn't going to give up one of them and their love just for society's norms.
Murder is also against society’s norms, and he gets paid for it.
But it was too late now.
Maybe it was for the better.
He could lie to himself, agree that he never confessed because it was not his destiny.
Not because they would have not loved him back.
Not because they would have been scared of him.
Not because they wouldn't have been able to see past his mask.
Not because they would have rather dated each other than him.
It's easier like this.
Simon knows how to mourn a loved one.
What he doesn't know is, how it's possible he got a message from you this morning when you died four months ago.
You are stepping out of the shower, skin warm from the water and baby hairs sticking to your forehead; when someone knocks on the bathroom door.
You furrow your eyebrows at how hard they knock, the whole door shaking with it.
“Calm down, I'm almost finished.” You grumble, pulling the towel around your body.
You drag your feet over the towel on the floor to walk closer, and open the door annoyed by the insistent knocking.
“I told you I am almost finish-” Your words are cut off by the barrel of a gun right on your face.
You don't even have time to panic, because you immediately recognise the stupid skeleton gloves holding the gun.
“Simon?” You whisper,scared that if you talk any louder he will disappear. Price and Gaz are behind him, slowly lowering their gun when they see it's you.
There is a glistering layer over Ghost's eyes that if you didn't known any better you'd think are tears.
You push his gun down, the man still immobile as if you were the ghost; and you jump into his arms, circling his neck with your arms.
“It worked! It finally worked!” You exclaim, tears slowly running down your cheeks. “I have been trying to contact any of you for months, it finally fucking worked!”
Ghost struggles to tell whether you are laughing or crying, a mix of the two. But he can't focus on that, he can only focus on your skin under his gloves.
God, how he hated his gloves right now.
He bites the tip of his finger, pulling the glove off spitting it somewhere. And he snakes his hand under your towel.
He knows is improper, perverted even; but he needs it. He needs to feel your warm skin under his palm, your heart beating loud and fast.
He surrounds your waist, hands big enough to rest on your ribs, right under your chest.
Boom, boom… boom, boom… boom, boom…
He sighs, melting onto you, his tears getting absorbed by the mask on his face. He hugs you tighter, daring you to slip from his fingers again.
He bites his lips, copper taste on his tongue, to prevent himself from sobbing.
But the sobs can be heard, and Ghost it's almost disappointed with himself until he notices your body shaking.
It's you who is crying.
And he panics again, pulling back to look at you and you cup your face, apologizing.
“I'm sorry. I tried my best, I really did.” He can barely understand what you are trying to tell him between sobs. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry.”
He shushes you quickly, he understands; the survivor’s guilt is a special kind of poison. But he understands, he feels it too.
“It's alright, love. You are alright, everything is going to be alright.” He hugs you again, resting your head on his chest. Mourning Johnny will be easier if you are together, he now hates himself for thinking you were dead; for accepting it.
For mourning you for months and now having you on his arms.
Warm and breathing.
He can only imagine what you went through.
You entered the tunnel because he called for you, and then he left you inside with a corpse.
How did you get out?
How did anyone see you get out?
How did you find a house?
How did you survive alone with the guilt?
Are the scars on your shoulder for getting out or were they always there?
Were you trapped under the debris?
For how long?
But that doesn't matter, he knew you were strong. That you were clever. That you were better than him.
He already knew that.
Gaz and Price remain silent, reading in the situation that there is something underlying that they don't know. Letting the two of you, have your moment.
It's only when Gaz hears the almost unnoticeable steps get closer that he moves, turning his body and almost dropping his weapon in the process when he sees him.
“Johnny?” That's all he is able to see.
And that's all that is needed to hear.
Price and Ghost whip their head around like they have been smacked, coming face to face with the man.
There are still bandages on the side of his head, he looks thinner, less muscles, sunken eyes and dark bags. But it's Johnny.
A scarred, angry Johnny.
Holding the pistol on his hands pointing to Ghost's head.
Looking at him as if Simon was his greatest enemy.
“Johnny…” He tries to talk to him, keeping you behind his back by instincts.
“SHUT THE FUCK UP! WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?” Johnny shouts, his hands are shaking.
That explains it, why he look like a madman, why he looks so scared under the rage, why he keeps trying to look under him.
“Johnny, it's alright.” You finally say, moving from behind Ghost, softly pushing his arm back. You walk ahead, still only on the towel; and you walk up to Johnny. You rest your hand on the pistol, pushing it down with ease.
You raise your other hand to the men, the signal of “wait”.
Johnny looks at you with utter confusion, eyes shaking moving around your face for any kind of explanation. His hand move around you, checking for any damage; the hand that doesn't have the gun clinging to the towel.
You cup his face between your hands, the man bending down slightly to make it easier for you to reach; you whisper something to him making him relax almost immediately.
And then you kiss him.
On the cheek, right beside the nose making him close his eyes for a second.
But it feels like a stab on Simon's heart.
He tries to think rationally, you were just calming him down. He knows Johnny is always desperate for physical contact, that's all. Nothing else.
He really tries to think logically, but logically the two of you are dead and buried under a tunnel. Not standing at the end of the hall, kissing and comforting each other.
Something about it, about the possibility there is something more going on between Johnny and you; sends Simon's inner gears spinning.
He sees the virtual space between the two of you, slowly getting in the shape of his body.
You whisper something to Johnny, he nods, touching your forehead with his for a second, before walking back. Looking at Simon with hate on his cerulean blue eyes.
You sigh, watching Johnny move and turn to the three still shell-shocked.
“As far as I can tell…” You whisper, once you are close to them. “He only remembers up to when he was 20, little more, little less.”
“So he doesn't remember anyone?” Price asks after a moment.
You shake your head. “Not that he hasn't asked me about, he asked about some people but I don't know them. He thought I was a nurse when he woke up.” You explain.
“What happened in the tunnel?” Gaz asks, looking behind you to check Johnny is not back. “How did you get out? And him? He was dead.”
You shake your head again. “Not yet. Almost… but not yet. I-”
“Bonnie! You want coffee or tea?!” Johnny's voice makes everyone jump.
“Coffee, please!” You answer without skipping a beat and turn to them. “I'll explain it later, alright? It's not the place nor the time.”
Price nods once. “Get dressed, I'll contact the pilot to let them know we are flying back tonight, right?”
“Roger that.” The three of you reply almost by muscle memory.
“I'll be fast, don't rile him up.” You say, before entering the bedroom closing it behind you.
Ghost feels Price's eyes on him.
Wondering.
Asking.
What's between you and him?
What's between you and Soap?
What's inside his mind?
“Tea is ready.” It all gets interrupted by the amnesiac man calling them to the kitchen.
They walk together, sitting around the table. Gaz and Price find it almost easy to talk to Soap, about how happy they are to see him again, about how they are flying back later, easy chatter.
But Ghost can't.
Not when Soap finally smiles at Price making fun of Gaz's cap and Ghost's breath is knocked out of his chest.
That's his boy.
Breathing and warm.
Just like you.
He knows it's the universe talking, telling him not to fuck it up again.
Still, he feels his heart sink every time Soap looks at him with such a sour look. Offended even. His boy.
That would jump at any opportunity to impress him, to earn his respect, his affection. Now locked like he wanted to stab him on the chest, twisting the knife in the process.
He knows it's because of you, the way the man stared at his hand as you pushed it out of the towel didn't go unnoticed by Simon.
Not the greatest first impression.
Does it count as a first impression if he has known the man for years?
You walk into the kitchen not much later, Johnny's eyes lightening at seeing you; his saviour.
You walk past Ghost, your arm resting on his shoulder as you bend down to slightly knock your head against Soap's.
And that's it, that all Simon's needs. To be involved. He doesn't need to be in the middle of you two, he is fine with being in the sidelines, but he needs to be a part of it.
He knows you are on his side, you remember him unlike Johnny. You can be the bridge to get him to Johnny; to keep Johnny from running. Make a pack with him; keep the two of you close.
A turmoil of emotions keeps spinning inside Ghost's head, all the versions of himself wanting to be right.
The part of him he thinks is unable to love telling him to let the two of you alone, you are better of without him.
The part of him he thinks is unable to be loved telling him to not even try, save himself the rejection.
The part of him that is still unsure of what even are his feelings telling him to not get involved, that it would only confuse the two of you.
But then there is also that part of him. The part called Simon Riley; that still holds onto the chance of loving and getting love.
And he looks at you and Soap, the way Soap looks up to you. The way he used to look at him.
“Let's pack our things up, Johnny.” You say, patting Soap’s back. “The sooner we are back home, the better.”
And you smile at Soap so kindly, so wide, so warm.
He understands how you managed to calm Soap down. Waking up from what he assumed must be something close to a coma after getting shot on the head, not remembering anything, in pain, alone. And then you appeared, so soft and so kind.
He wouldn't blame Johnny if he was already in love with you, with you being literally the only thing he knows since waking up.
Johnny stands up, walking out of the kitchen but looking back to make sure you are walking behind him.
The two of you disappear down the hall, voices low as you move away.
“I can't believe they are alive…” Gaz comments, sipping his tea.
“Neither do I…” Price answers, sipping his. “Bloody necromancer…”
And you are, Simon was also dead before meeting you.
“I'm gonna check on them.” He says, downing the beverage on a gulp that burns down his throat.
He stands up, Price and Gaz look at him as he does. They are going to talk about him as soon as he gets out, but he doesn't care.
He has made his choice.
He loves you.
He loves Johnny.
He walks down the hall, seeing the door ajar.
His hand reaches the knob when he hears it.
His blood running cold.
“Johnny…”
It's your sweet voice moaning the name.
The unmistakable sounds of kisses inside the room.
“I don't like how he looks at you, bonnie.” The man whispers, his breathing unstable.
“He's your best friend, Joh-Ah!” You moan, interrupting yourself as you speak.
“I don't care! I don't know him. You are mine!” The man grunts, the sound of skin slapping slowly becoming more and more clear.
“Johnny…” You moan again, and Simon is sure that he can hear your cunt squelch around Johnny's length.
He opens the door the slightest bit, just enough for his eyes to see the way Johnny has you bent over on the bed.
With you laying on your stomach on the bed, legs hanging from him without strength to push yourself up. Johnny behind you, a foot on the ground and the other on the mattress as leverage to keep sinking into your weeping cunt.
Neither of you bothered to take off the clothes, simply lowered the pants enough for Johnny to get inside of you. Your pants pooling on your ankles, legs limp with the rhythm Johnny has settled.
Simon wishes he could see your face, pleasure painted on your expressions with your face buried on the mattress. Johnny keeps your hands on your back, keeping you pressed against the bed. But the only thing he can see is Johnny's back.
So he sees perfectly fine when the man turns his torso around, still thrusting into you, and looks at Simon.
He looks straight into Simon's eyes, who panic just for a second for getting caught peeking into their room, into them together.
But the Johnny smiles, not the adoration-filled smile he used to gift Simon with. Instead, is the smile filled with pride that he only kept for after winning a match or catching an enemy.
Johnny raises his hand to show him his middle finger.
As he mouths “Fuck you.”
And Simon wants to laugh.
Johnny wants to play?
Then they'll play.
Game's on.
@waiting-so-long
Taglist: @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @kayden666 @dumb12bvtch1212 @thatonepupkai @darkangel4121 @risingofjupiter @spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @soupinasock @marymustdie @arbesa-mind @cmbghost @multifandomheathenannie @tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk @reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles @ghosts-hoe @cassiecasluciluce @sleepdeprivedkat @lunamoonbby @hatterripper31 @contractedcriteria @cod-z @jaguarthecat @savagemickey03 @fraserbraw @rosiehale23 @keiva1000 @sw33tsnow @viisgrave @theloneshadow24 @loveandplanet @sobbingnshtting @dprmoon @simpsallthetime1997 @ladyxtiger @soapsmohawk-16 @nina6708 @katreintjie @sacvh @mothymunson @archenillo @thesinsoflust @sodavrr @yuki2129 @mikaronn
#call of duty#ghostsoap#ghost#simon ghost riley#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#cod x reader#cod#john soap mactavish#ghost cod#soapghost#simon riley#cod smut#ghost smut#call of duty x reader#cod modern warfare#soap x reader#call of duty modern warfare#cod mwii#ghoap#ghoap x reader#soap#call of duty smut#john mactavish#soap smut
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Hi! I've been following your writing for a bit now, and I really like your style of writing. There's a sort of flow to it. Anyways, I was wondering if you could write a Bruce Wayne x Batmom! Reader. Where Damian clings to Batmom a lot and it's so obvious he loves her more than he loves Bruce. So Batmom overhears Bruce paying Damian like a large amount of money to not interrupt their date? I think this would be really cute, and it's okay if you can't write it. And thank you so much in advance! <3
Bribes
Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Reader, Damian Wayne x Batmom! Reader
Genre: Fluff (?)
Warnings: Characters may be out of character, reader is shorter than Bruce Wayne, jealousy
Synopsis: Will Bruce ever get a moment with you?
It happens a lot, almost too often. Every moment Bruce thinks he has alone with you , he doesn't.
The first time was when Damian started getting comfortable with you.
You and Bruce were in your bedroom, limbs entangled, just enjoying each other's presence in the dark, cold room. The only warmth was your bodies and the blankets.
Bruce was enjoying this, he was enjoying you. You guys had all boys, and oh lord were they mama's boys who needed you for all simple. Thank god he didn't have to worry about Damian turning into one like his brothers. At least Bruce thought.
There was a knock on the door.
"Go away." Bruce's voice booms.
You move from the position you and Bruce were in and you sit up.
"You can come in, Damian." You say.
It was quite obvious it was Damian, your boys all knocked on the door differently. Damians seemed more hesitant.
Damian walked in coming to your side of the bed. Bruce stares blankly , and confused on how the hell you knew it was Damian.
"Y/N , I had a nightmare can I sleep here?"
"N—" Bruce started.
"I was asking Y/N. Not you." Damian cuts him off. He sure was Bruces child.
"Of course, love." You smiled as the boy climbed in between you and a grumpy Bruce.
—
Another time it happened was when you and Bruce had a Gala to go to but the boys were gonna stay home.
However, he couldn't find you anywhere in sight to be found. Until he walked into the living room to find you and Damian cuddled under a blanket.
Damian leaned back on you with you rubbing his hair until he spots his father and he immediately jumps up acting like his mother wasn't just giving him affection he craved.
"Y/N, why aren't you dressed. We have that Gala tonight." Bruce raised a brow at you as he stood in front of you in his tuxedo that he looked EXTREMELY handsome in.
You give him a nervous smile, "Well about that," You raised up a thermometer, "Damian is feeling a bit under the weather so I will stay here with him while you attend."
Damian did a fake cough while smirking at his father. His face out of your vision you couldn't see the smirk.
Bruce squinted at Damian. He wasn't going to rat out his son to you because at least Damian warmed up to you and even then you wouldn't believe Bruce.
—
The last straw was when Bruce found Damian taking his favorite thing to do with you.
Every evening you would sit in the garden. It was labeled your bench because the boys always saw you out there on it no matter the weather.
One of your quiet places, you just sit out and read, crochet or some other peaceful activity until Bruce comes out. You two watch the sunsets every evening together and it was just a romantic, wholesome moment.
That is why when Bruce came outside to the garden to see Damian in his mother's arms he almost lost it.
Bruce wanted to be in your arms and Damian should not be there at all.
"Room for one more?" Bruce speaks.
This time Damian doesn't move out of your arms for his father has seen him like this multiple times and he just doesn't want his brothers to spot him being babied in his mother's arms.
"Sorry dear, there is only enough room for two people on this bench. You can come tomorrow." You look back and smile almost guilty.
Unfortunately tomorrow never came, because everyday Damian would beat Bruce to your arms on the bench.
—
All those events lead up to now. Bruce sitting Damian down to have a talk before you and Bruce went out for a date that Bruce has been looking forward to.
"I've noticed you spend a lot of time with Y/N." Bruce spoke to Damian.
"Ummi and I are just having normal mother-son time." Damian speaks.
Bruce furrows his eyebrows, "Yeah..whatever."
"Great! Conversation ended." Damian was about to get up till Bruce stopped him.
"You are not to sabotage this date." Bruce says.
"I'm not going to sabotage it but I am starting to feel a little sick." Damian smirked.
"Do not fake sick, I will pay you a million dolla—" Bruce was about to give Damian a bribe until he heard your laughter from the doorway and his face dropped.
"You two are really something." You place your hands on your hips after you stop laughing.
The two just stare at you waiting for you go finish what you are going to say.
"Damian, if your sick Dick will be here to take care of you in a little but until then you have Alfred." She walks towards him and brings her hand to his cheek, cupping it, "I spend a lot of time with you Dami, it is time I give your father some attention."
Damian melts into your touch, nodding. You were right, he had been spending a lot of time with you.
You then turn to Bruce, "As for you, you shouldn't have to bribe your son to not "sabotage" , our dates." You roll your eyes.
"I know, but we haven't had much time together lately." Bruce comes towards you.
When he's in-front of you, you look up while grabbing his forearms.
"I know, that's why tonight it will only just be us. I promise." Your eyes glimmer as you speak those words to him.
He was about to lean down to kiss you till Damian gets up and runs out the room yelling, "GET A ROOM!!"
#fanfic#bruce wayne#damian wayne x batmom#batmom#bruce wayne x reader#bruce x reader#dc comics#dc universe#dcu#damian x reader#damian wayne#bruce wayne x batmom#bruce#jealousy#jason todd#tim drake#damian al ghul#dick grayson x batmom#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson
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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.
══════════════════
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.
══════════════════
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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could be -jack hughes-
summary: y/n and jack are as inseparable as real best friends should be. so much so that even though they're not dating, she is considered a 'wag' anyway
word count: 4.6k
pairing: jack hughes x reader
notes: jack is just precious and so wholesome istg.
masterlist
growing up, jack was always taught to treat women with respect. he was also told that he should pay special attention to the girl in his life that meant the world to him.
and that's what he did with y/n. she was his best friend & had been since the 6th grade. ever since they met, they were completely inseparable.
even when jack went straight from high school to being a professional hockey player, y/n went with him. she figured she could take a gap year then enroll in school in jersey once she found one that was right for her.
it was obvious to everyone that their close friendship bordered on a real relationship but nobody could be bothered to bring it up. especially not when they saw how much they both cared about the friendship and would do nothing to jeopardize it.
jack's rookie season in the nhl was not as great as he expected it to be. he lost more games than he could count and felt like he wasn't living up to his full potential. but he was reminded every night when he came home that no matter how bad he played, he would always have his favorite girl cheering him on.
and given how close they were, most people had a feeling that something or someone would come along and cause a rift in their friendship. and when jack got his first girlfriend since going pro, they were all proven wrong. turns out that the girlfriend didn't like how close he and y/n had been and she gave him an ultimatum. of course he chose y/n, leading people to believe that there was definitely something going on between the pair.
and no matter how many times people put that idea out there, they always shut the thought down and insisted they were always going to be just friends.
but those closest to them knew that was most certainly not true.
everything they did was something an average couple would do. they could deny it all they wanted but it was clear they were destined to be together.
----------
"hey, y/n. are you coming to the game tonight?"
"do you want me to come?"
"always." jack smiled, but immediately became concerned when she didn't smile back. "of course i want you there. do you think i don't?"
"i was just messing with you, jack. of course i'll be there."
"okay good." he kissed the top of her head and smiled. "you almost gave me a heart attack. i can't play without you there."
"no need to worry, darling. i've never intentionally missed a game since the second half of your rookie season and i'm not going to start now."
"i know. i don't know why i thought you weren't coming tonight though."
"you'd miss me too much if i wasn't there." y/n smirked.
"you know me too well." jack chuckled and grabbed his gear. "i'm late for practice. but i'll for sure see you later tonight, right?"
"absolutely. wouldn't miss it." y/n walked with jack to the door. he looked at her bracelet and smiled.
"you're gonna need a whole new bracelet if we win tonight."
"you mean after you win tonight?" y/n smiled and moved the bracelet around. "who picks out the charm this time?"
"i believe it's jesper's turn again."
"oh, sweet. i love the charms he picks."
"what about mine?"
"i love them even more than jesper's. you know that."
"yeah, i know." jack smiled again and grabbed his keys. "alright. see you in a few hours."
"bye." y/n shut the door and examined her bracelet again. jack had bought it for her after he scored his first career goal and told her that every time his team won, he would buy her another charm because he considered her to be his personal good luck charm. after the 10th win, his teammates started taking turns picking out the charms, as they not only believed that y/n was jack's good luck charm, but theirs as well. they never lost when she attended a game so the belief stuck.
a few hours later, y/n grabbed her jack hughes jersey, put on her black jeans and slipped on her red converse. she threw her hair up in a messy bun and didn't bother with any makeup since she never really wore it much anyway.
before she got in the car, she sent a text to both jack and luke, wishing them good luck on the game. luke's reply was just a thumbs up while jack's reply was an entire paragraph. y/n left it open and drove to the arena. when she arrived, she put her phone in her purse, completely forgetting to respond to jack's text.
in the locker room, luke was finishing adjusting his skates when jack sat next to him.
"y/n left me on read, luke. do you think she's okay? what if something happened to her on the way here?"
"i'm sure she's fine. she's the most careful driver i know." he finished lacing the right skate and pulled the left one tighter. "have you tried calling?"
"no. we never call before games. it's a rule."
"you might have to break a rule every now and then."
"okay, fine." jack pulled his phone out and quickly dialed y/n's number. it went to voicemail and jack sighed. "right to voicemail, luke. this is not good."
"relax, jack. she probably just turned her phone to do not disturb so she could focus entirely on the game tonight."
"okay. maybe you're right." jack stood up. "thanks, bro."
"no problem." luke chuckled. "you gotta learn to never doubt me."
"yeah, yeah. whatever." jack rolled his eyes and grabbed his stick. "we got a game to win."
as the boys came out onto the ice, y/n's gaze immediately landed on jack. he looked at her and smiled, thankful that nothing happened to her on the way to the game. he skated around and that's when the thought hit him.
she didn't respond to his pre-game text like she normally did.
the game went on like it normally would, but with jack distracted, he wasn't playing his best. y/n watched as jack took a hit at the end of 1st period. it never should've happened and she was beginning to worry.
she pulled out her phone and went to send him a text, knowing he was gonna check his phone during the break. and that's when she realized she never replied to the paragraph he sent before the game. she felt guilty, as if she was the reason jack was having a bad game.
she typed as fast as her fingers could go, rattling off an extra long apology text, hoping it would make up for earlier.
and when jack was back out on the ice for the second period, he seemed to be playing a lot better than before. the text seemed to have worked.
halfway through the last period, the devils were up by 2. as jack scored, he turned to look at y/n. when he saw her, he smiled.
he was distracted and the other team knew it. so they took this opportunity to slam him in the boards as hard as possible, taking jack out for the last 10 minutes of the game.
as the ref escorted jack off the ice, y/n hurried out of her seat and down to the tunnel. she rushed to the medic's office and watched as he did his routine checkup on jack. when he was finished, he turned to y/n.
"take good care of this one. he's showing signs of a possible concussion and he may be out for a game or two. we have to make sure he'll be okay."
"don't worry. i'll make sure he's fine." y/n smiled as the medic walked out of the room.
"that was a terrible game." jack shook his head slowly. "i screwed up."
"no you didn't, jack. you played great." y/n squeezed his shoulder softly and smiled.
"you and i both know i didn't. i was a mess in the first half of the game and-"
"i know. it was my fault. i should've answered your text."
"what? no. that's not why i wasn't focused. okay well maybe a bit. but i wasn't mad. i was scared. the last text i got from you before the game was that you were on your way here. and when you didn't reply to my text, i thought something bad happened to you. i wouldn't know what to do without you."
"don't worry. i'm right here."
"good." jack looked up at her and smiled. neither of them knew why they began to lean in but when their lips were about to touch, luke walked into the room, causing them both to jump apart. luckily luke didn't see anything.
"hey. we won the game but i wanted to come see you. how are you doing?"
"i'm alright. might have a concussion and may have to sit out for a game or two. but i'm fine."
"do you need me to stay tonight and keep an eye on you?"
"no thanks, luke. i appreciate the offer but y/n is gonna be there. she lives with me, remember?"
"right. are you sure there's not another reason she's living with you? like, say, maybe you guys are more than friends?" luke raised his eyebrow.
"oh yeah. i sleep with jack every night and he's sooo good. and oh my god. the size is just-" y/n smirked when luke interrupted her.
"i was kidding. i really didn't need to know any details. gross." he shook his head and left the room. jack couldn't help ut laugh at his brothers reaction.
"you know he's gonna tell the rest of the team, right?"
"let them believe what they want. only we know the truth." she winked at him and grabbed his stuff. "now let's get going. i hear my bed calling me."
"you're so dramatic." he chuckled and followed his best friend out to her car. "it's a good thing i got a ride here with luke this morning."
"yes it is. now you can be my little passenger princess this time, instead of the other way around."
"ha. ha. very funny."
"i know i am." y/n smiled and started driving back to their apartment. "how's the head feeling?"
"little rough. but i'll be fine, i promise. you don't need to worry." jack reached over the center console and squeezed her leg gently.
"i always worry about you." y/n kept her eyes on the road but when jack moved his hand, she felt like her leg was on fire.
"i know. and i appreciate it. a lot." jack smiled and got out of the car when she parked. he hurried over to her door and opened it for her.
"thanks, jack. but i could've done that on my own."
"i'm showing my appreciation."
"jack, there are other ways to show your appreciation." y/n smiled and walked to their door. jack was frozen in his spot as he watched her walk inside. before the door shut, he rushed in behind her.
"hold up. just wait a second." he sat down on the couch and looked at y/n. "what other ways can i show my appreciation?"
"by getting me a new charm for my bracelet since your team won." y/n smirked. "did you think i meant something else?"
"what? no. of course not." jack shook his head rapidly, causing y/n to continue smirking.
"oh my gosh. you totally did!"
"well, i kinda thought that we could talk about what almost happened back in the medic's office before luke walked in."
"jack, it was a slip up. heat of the moment situation. it never should've happened."
"it didn't happen. but i agree. heat of the moment." jack sighed and looked at her. "you're my best friend and i love you. but what didn't happen is not going to change us, right?"
"of course not." y/n smiled and headed to her room. jack watched her close the door and let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.
it was going to change everything.
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
over the course of the next few weeks, the dynamic between y/n and jack had shifted. everyone noticed immediately but it took jack and y/n a little longer to catch on.
it wasn't drastic enough where y/n felt like she had to move out. but she no longer felt like jack wanted to spend every minute with her like he normally had in the past.
his attitude changed and he slowly became less of the happy guy he always was, and more of a moody one instead. he was getting into fights more often than not & he was bringing girls home with him almost every night.
he would ignore y/n when she would greet him and each time he did, y/n felt like he was chipping away a piece of her heart. it was starting to become an issue for her and she didn't know what to do.
until an 'angel' knocked on the apartment door one afternoon.
y/n was home alone, getting ready for the last regular season game, when she heard the knock. she got up and looked through the peephole.
"nico? what are you doing here? shouldn't you be at the arena practicing for the big game?"
"i should be. but i think we need to talk."
"what about?" she held the door and looked at her friend. "what's going on? is everything okay?"
"with me? yeah. with jack? no."
"what do you mean?"
"you've noticed the changes recently, yes?"
"of course. i notice a lot." she shook her head. "what about his changes?"
"it's messing with his playing."
"meaning?"
"he used to be the best player on the team but for the last 4 weeks, he's been different. his points haven't gone up and his skill level has declined. he still ranks fairly high in the league but it's nowhere near where he deserves to be." he sighed. "i need to know what happened between you guys."
"why do you assume something happened?"
"because i know you guys better than you think i do. and the dynamic between you has shifted since he got the concussion a month ago. so what happened? did jack say something to upset you, or vice versa?"
"no. at least, i don't think so. and to be honest, i have no idea what really happened. the night he got the concussion, we came home and things were fine. but when i woke up the next morning, it was like the jack hughes i know and love was replaced by someone else."
"so jack is the only one to know why he's been acting so weird?"
"i guess so." y/n looked at her phone. "you should get going. the team's gonna need their captain before the game."
"yeah, you're right." he went to walk away but stopped. "are you coming to the game?"
"yeah. i'll be there. there's just something i need to do first. see you later." she shut the door slowly and walked into jack's room. it looked pretty much like it always did. it was a little bit messier than normal but that's how jack tended to keep it.
as she was about to walk out, she saw a gift on the floor by his bed. there was a tag attached to it that had her name printed neatly on it in jack's handwriting. she picked it up and took it with her to the car. she needed an explanation and was determined to get one, even if jack didn't want to give it to her.
when she parked at the arena, she climbed out of her car and ran inside quickly. there was still a little while before the game started but the fans were already filing into their seats. the team was skating around the ice doing their warm ups but jack was nowhere to be found. and neither was nico.
y/n was about to send nico a text, telling him she had arrived, but when she looked up, jack and nico were skating onto the ice. nico waved when he noticed her but jack hadn't seen her yet so she would have to wait to talk to him.
the first half of the game was brutal for the devils. they were down by 3 at the end of the second period, not having scored a single goal yet, and they were looking at a complete shutout,
y/n watched the team skate off the ice and sent a text to nico, letting him know she was on her way down to the locker rom to talk to jack. she couldn't wait another second.
as she got to the room, the rest of the team was walking out slowly. nico was last and he stopped her.
"um, just a heads up but he's not in a great mood and he's blaming himself for what's happened so far in the game. hopefully you can work your magic on him like you always do."
"yeah, hopefully. good luck out there." she smiled and stood in the doorway to the locker room. jack was pacing back and forth with his head down so he didn't notice her and he was mumbling to himself. she knocked lightly on the door to get his attention. "jack?"
"huh?" his head shot up and they made eye contact. "w-what are you doing here?"
"i came to see my best friend play kick some ass and make it to the playoffs tonight."
"that's not gonna happen so you can go home if you want. i don't want to disappoint you when we lose."
"you're not going to lose, jack." she took a step into the room and the air felt thick.
"we haven't scored once this game and there's 20 minutes left. i highly doubt we're coming back from this." he shook his head. "and it's all my fault."
"no it's not. it's a team game, jack. it doesn't depend on just one person. you know that."
"if i hadn't played so badly this last month, we'd already be guaranteed a playoff spot. but this game is the make or break one."
"what's gotten into you? where's the best friend who is always full of spirit and determination? the one who never wants to give up, no matter how hard a task may be?"
"he's a total mess who can't get his shit together. he's lost hope for a lot of things in his life and he doesn't know how to get back to his normal self again."
"when did things change?" y/n took a seat beside him on the bench. "was it before or after the concussion?"
"the same night." he sighed. "i felt the change after we got home."
"was it something i did that maybe upset you?" y/n looked at him but he didn't answer. "jack, please talk to me. i want to help you in anyway that i can."
"do you really think that our almost kiss was just a slip up? a heat of the moment thing?"
"what?"
"just tell me the truth, please?"
"i've known you since the 6th grade and not once did i ever think about kissing you. you've been my best friend since i met you so yeah. it was a heat of the moment thing." y/n looked up to find jack staring at her.
"i feel the same way. or at least i thought i did." he sighed. "i had never thought about kissing you before and have had no romantic feelings towards you since we became friends. but that night, when you didn't answer my pre-game text, i was scared something happened to you. and you already know that. but as i was freaking out, i started thinking about why i was reacting that way. i realized that i never wanted to experience life without you. and then when i saw you and saw that you were alright, my heart nearly exploded with happiness. i thought i lost you but you were there, in front of me, and these brand new feelings became overwhelming for me." jack took another breath. "that night when you told me it was a slip up, it hit me that you didn't feel the same way about me. so i started giving you space because it felt like what was best and i realize now that it was a mistake to do that. because without you by my side, i fell apart real fast. i screwed up by almost kissing you and if it was possible, i would turn back time and stop myself. i never intended for things to end up this way. and i am so sorry i disappointed you."
"you could never disappoint me, jack. you're my favorite person in the entire world. and yes, i thought it was a slip up that night because i had never thought about kissing you before. but when you were giving me that 'space', it gave me time to think about what almost happened and i have come to the realization that it wasn't a heat of the moment situation. i realized that i can't live my life without you. truthfully, i love you jack. i never really thought about it before but now i know."
"so all that space was a dumb idea, huh?"
"of course, dummy. but maybe things can be different now. we can get back to how things were before the concussion." y/n took his hand. "but with an added bonus of love."
"that sounds like a good idea." he went to kiss her but she stopped him.
"wait. i almost forgot the main reason i cam back here."
"what's that?"
"i found this in your room." she pulled the gift out from her purse and handed it to him. he turned it around in his hands and smiled. "what is it?"
"as ridiculous as this might sound, it's a book." he let out a chuckle.
"a book?"
"yeah. but not just any book." he smiled. "this book is special and i was intending to give it to you for your birthday but i didn't know if things would be back to normal or not." he looked up at her. "go ahead. open it."
y/n carefully unwrapped the book and stared at the cover. a little cartoon version of herself with jack stared up at her with the title my best friend written in shiny silver letters. she flipped through the book and smiled with every page she read. it was a story book of her life, before and after she met jack. it was illustrated so perfectly and each hidden detail throughout the book made her eyes water. "jack , i love this so much."
"i figured you would. but i'm glad you do." he looked at her. "did you see what was taped to the back cover?"
"no." she flipped to the back cover and taped to the inside was a little swan charm. y/n carefully pulled it off and smiled. "seriously, jack. you didn't have to do this."
"well i wanted to. i needed to show you how much you mean to me but with everything you've ever done for me, the book and the charm are not going to be enough."
"jack, they're more than enough. they're perfect." she looked at him. "you're perfect."
neither of them hesitated to place their lips together. they fit perfectly together, just like everyone knew they would. jack held y/n's face as he deepened the kiss. her hands held his wrists as they slowly pulled apart.
"okay, my team is waiting for me. i've got a game to win." he stood up quickly. "i love you."
"i love you too. now go out there before they start to worry." y/n laughed as jack rushed out to the ice. she slid the book back in her purse and made her way back to her seat just in time for the final period to start.
30 seconds in, jack scored a goal and the fans went nuts. his teammates all hugged him and nico looked up to where y/n was sitting, knowing she really did work her magic on him.
there was 5 minutes left in the game when nico passed the puck to jack, who scored another goal, putting the game at 3-2 for nashville.
with 2 minutes left, it was looking like they were going to lose. but luck must've been on their side because curtis somehow got the puck to jack. he took it and sped down to the other end of the rink, shooting it right into the net to tie the game.
and when the buzzer went off to signal the end of the game, everyone on the team was excited. they were congratulating jack as they made their way to the bench.
"whatever you're doing, keep it up. that was an excellent third period." curtis high-fived him and walked down the tunnel. both jack and nico shared a look and their eyes went to y/n in the stands. she waved to them and they smiled.
"she must've worked her magic real hard on you to get such a turn around like that."
"yeah. something like that." jack smirked and took a drink from his water bottle before spraying some down the back and front of his jersey. he knew he was a great player but even he was impressed with how fast he shifted the game.
overtime started not long after their conversation and even though nashville was playing hard, new jersey was playing harder. their team dynamic was so much stronger than it was before.
with the clock ticking down and jack with the puck, the win was in sight. but the nashville players were not letting it go that easily. all the players on the ice chased jack and nearly cornered him. one slammed him into the side, causing him to lose his balance and fall. they all looked for the puck, believing that he would've given up the possession when he hit the ice.
but he did that before he went down. he passed the puck to jesper, who was not being defended. luckily nobody saw that pass. jesper took off back towards the nashville net and hit the puck as hard as he could, sending it flying towards the goal.
everyone watched with baited breath as the puck moved faster and faster towards the net. when it hit the back and the buzzer went off, everyone cheered. the devils were going to the playoffs.
y/n made her way down to the tunnel to wait for the team. nico had a feeling that's what she would be doing so he made sure jack was at the end of the line.
as they passed by, y/n congratulated the guys on the big win and continued to wait for jack. when she saw him, she couldn't help but throw herself into his arms. he was shocked but he held her tightly.
"that was incredible, jack. i told you you were going to win."
"i couldn't have done it without you and our talk."
"well, you could've. but i'm gonna take the credit where i can get it." she smiled. "go get changed so we can go home and celebrate."
"yes ma'am."
things were going to be okay. they were gonna make sure of it.
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You were a ray of sunshine in the Batfamily's life. You loved the children and Bruce with your entire heart, and everyone took notice. You loved each of the family members differently but equally intensely. No kid ever felt unloved by you.
You softly hum as you trace Damian's face. He always struggled to sleep. He struggled to relax enough even with sleep medication aiding him most nights. Until you start humming softly and draw patterns on his face lightly. His entire body physically relaxes as his eyes flutter shut, his breathing evening out after a minute. His face subconsciously leans into your soothing touch.
With a tender smile on your face and a gentle forehead kiss, you moved onto the next Batboy who struggles with sleep: Dick. You knock your secret knock with a smile on your face. You had a soft spot for Dick the second the kid lost his parents. How could you possibly not when his small body shook so badly in your arms? He had the same tormented look Bruce used to have before your loving family formed.
You hear a soft but excited "come in" from Dick, who seemed to have still been getting ready for bed. He loved it when you told him stories above all else. You told him thousands of your stories, but he was always excited to listen to you talk about the moment you adopted him. You'd tell him about how much you loved him as you reminisced on the first time he called you mom. How your heart had never been so full of love and adoration for your kid. He wasn't an easy kid, but you loved him deeply, and you reminded him constantly.
Dick gives you a warm smile as you set down his nighttime tea: always chamomile with lemon and sugar cubes on the side. It had to be sugar cubes, as the packets tasted weird to him.
"What story do you want tonight, sweetheart?"
He surprised you, honestly, when he asked to hear about how you met Bruce. You chuckle softly.
"It was a rainy Thursday night. We both became vigilantes the same day and met during our nightly adventures. We looked at each other for a long time before we heard police sirens and ran towards it. I must have saved his life hundreds of times that night. We have been close together ever since."
Dick cuddles into his bed and looks at you with wide eyes. He was always excited to hear this story. With a look of adoration, he murmurs,
"And you give us a hard time about our recklessness."
You roll your eyes but can't fight the fond smile off your face. You gently play with Dick's hair, continuing your tale,
"I'm not the one charging into burning buildings nightly without superpowers, darling.
Dick and Bruce adored your moral compass more than anything. You always did what was right no matter how hard it was to do. You saved thousands of lives throughout the time you were a vigilante with Bruce. He called you rash every night because of the way you handled being a superhero, but you see the endangered people and never hesitate. You are immune to damage of all types, so it was easy to run into the thick of danger to save everybody from a burning building or from the Joker's psychopathic game. Joker was angry when he found out you couldn't get hurt. You don't even feel pain because of your powers. You weren't a fun target to him, so he gave up.
"I wish I could've met younger you. I love seeing my mom being a casual badass."
You laugh softly, giving him a cheek kiss as a goodnight. Batboy number 3 was Jason. Jason took after your personality more than the rest and defends you even when it's just reporters talking bad about you. You taught him how to love and accept being loved, despite everything. You taught him to look for the best in everyone because their stories often run deeper than the surface.
You can hear his excited steps as he lets you in. He held up the newest book he wanted to share with you. You read to him every night, as he finds your voice soothes him.
He drags you to his bedside and climbs into his bed. You kissed his forehead before starting to read the book. He knows he could listen to Audiobooks, but he found it was you that soothed him. He found the narrators of Audiobooks often annoying or dramatic, but you read the exact way he wants you to and at the perfect speed.
He was soon drifting off as well, your hand holding his and squeezing morse code messages into his hand. You kissed the tip of his nose gently before moving on.
By the time you were done with all the children, Bruce was back. You grabbed the first aid kid you keep in your shared room. Bruce must've had an easier night because his injuries weren't nearly as life-threatening as usual.
He hissed through his teeth as you cleaned his wounds, but you murmured reassuring words and held his hand with your free hand.
"Just a few more, baby. You're doing so good, my hero."
He squeezed your hand when you were done. His exhausted smile was still so full of love for you.
"We're so lucky to have you in our lives."
He kissed your cheek gently. He loved you deeply, even when it was hard for him to express it. Love truthfully scared him ever since his parents' deaths, but you were the ray of sunshine in his darkest of nights.
"I'm lucky to have my little army of heroes. I love you and the kids."
He gave a tired hum of acknowledgement.
"We all love you too."
Alfred, appearing as silently as ever at the doorway of the bedroom, said,
"Master Wayne, if you don't marry her, I will."
You laugh at Bruce's shocked expression. He whipped around to face Alfred, who was staring at him with a look that was so serious you couldn't help but smirk at. While you'd love to marry Bruce, you knew it wasn't that simple for him. He struggles with the idea of having a loving wife waiting for him. He doesn't feel like he deserves it at the moment, and you respect that. You will continue to be the mother of his children and the warm presence in his life. You voice your thoughts,
"Alfred, I don't need to marry Bruce to be part of the family."
Alfred raised an eyebrow at Bruce, but Bruce was in another place.
"That much is clear, but I still want you officially part of the family. You're the glue holding everyone together."
You smile at the duo. Family is so much deeper than blood, and you continue to prove it to the Bat family every day. You ruffle Bruce's hair gently.
"I'd never say no to my boys."
Bruce took Alfred's advice on your anniversary. He proposed in front of the entire family, which inevitably ended in a dog pile of hugs from all your boys and a sweet kiss from Bruce.
Bruce, your private and loving fiancée, confirmed the engagement to the world the next day, holding up your hand and giving it a gentle kiss. He held your engagement hand everywhere he went, the rest of the Bat family fighting to hold your other hand, eventually scheduling who holds your other hand in an endless cycle.
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eddie x reader, where reader isn’t necessarily popular but she gets along with everyone and is friends with everyone, and eddie is his dorky self, but him and reader start hanging out more and there’s rumors that him and reader are hooking up but they’re not they’re just friends, but eddie realizes these rumors are making him more popular so he doesn’t try to nip them in the bud but the rumors are causing issues for the reader, if u can make it end nice and fluffy id appreciate it, hope this makes sense
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
Rumor has it
Y/N doesn't consider herself popular; she is just someone who can hold a conversation with anyone. Which is why no one questioned why she started talking to Eddie.
Eddie knew he was not popular, and he was fine with that. He also didn't see Y/N as popular, and he thinks that was why he loved being around her. She was the only person that was nice and honest.
But since most people knew her, people talked about her. All it took was one wrong person to see them together and start the rumor that they were sleeping together.
The rumor impacted them differently. Eddie was congratulated and got his name on the map. Boys high-fived him in hallways and girls became interested in him. Eddie didn't understand why "sleeping" with Y/N would be the talk of this school, but he enjoyed the attention he got.
It was the opposite for Y/N. Boys began hitting on her now that she had given it up. No matter how many times she said no and that nothing happened with Eddie, no one believed her. She didn't like being seen as someone boys wanted to hook up with. She missed when they were polite and friends with her. But now all they wanted was the same treatment Eddie got.
Y/N sighed as she got in Eddie's van. She ignored the eyes of everyone watching as they drove out of the parking lot.
"I like your top today, by the way, baby," Eddie said, shooting her a smile as he focused on the road.
Y/N felt her face burn and a smile appeared on her face. She muttered a small thank you. But cheered loudly in her head. The more she spent tutoring Eddie, the more she liked him. She wanted his attention and his compliments.
She bought a few new shirts. Some tight and a little low cut to show off her body. She loved the way his eyes never left her when she was near. She was happy that her new clothes seemed to be doing just what she wanted.
~
"Can we be done now? My brain is going to explode," Eddie whined, throwing his head back.
"Yes, we can be done," Y/N laughed as she closed the book.
"Good because I would rather be doing this," he said, then she felt her body being shifted onto his. She bit her lip as she sat in his lap, hoping he couldn't hear how fast her heart was beating. He leaned in and softly pressed his lips against hers. It wasn't their first kiss, but it made her stomach flutter just the same.
He pulled back and moved his lips down to her neck, loving the way she shuddered.
"This perfume I think is my favorite so far," he muttered against her skin. She moaned as he bit her neck, she would definitely wear this perfume every day.
~~~
"I saw Y/N left school with you yesterday," Jason said as he nudged Eddie with a wink.
"Yeah, we went back to my place," Eddie said, his words were honest but his smirk left a lot to the imagination
"Never would have thought sweet Y/N would get down and dirty with the freak of Hawkins," Jason chuckled as he walked away.
Yeah, the rumor even got bullies off Eddie's back. It was like he was living a dream.
~
"Can you believe she finally lost her virginity? I heard it was in the bar bathroom after Eddie's set. So trashy" a girl snickered as Y/N walked by in the halls.
Y/N ignored her words, sadly getting used to it ever since the stupid rumor started. She denied it over and over, yet no one seemed to believe her. She wasn't understanding why everyone truly believed it happened when they had no evidence at all.
Well until she finally saw it with her eyes.
"I think I brought her home maybe like midnight?" Eddie laughed as he shrugged, a group of boys surrounding him.
Y/N stopped walking, trying to remain unseen as she listened.
"Is she good?" a random voice asked
"Amazing," Eddie replied
"Y/N freaky? Is that why she picked you? Does she like it rough and dirty or something?" another voice asked
Y/N froze as she realized they were talking about the rumor. She waited anxiously for Eddie to respond
"I don't want to share all our details, but she can tire a guy out," he said, she scoffed at his proud smirk and the way the guys cheered.
She thought Eddie would have been different, but he was just as pathetic as the rest of the boys in the school.
"Oh? How so?" she spoke up, her voice catching all their attention.
Eddie went pale as she came into view, the boys looked between them.
"Maybe you can show me tomorrow night, gorgeous," a boy said, throwing her a wink
She cringed and felt uncomfortable under his stare. His words sent jealousy straight through Eddie. Eddie snapped to look at him with heat in his eyes.
"She's not interested," Eddie said as he butted in
"I think I've had enough of you speaking for me" she snapped, her attention on Eddie. "Maybe I should tell these guys exactly what has been going on between us."
"We already know you opened your legs the same night you met him. We all know you are a whore" the boys snickered as Y/N felt the blow of the words.
"Don't call her that. She is not a whore." Eddie demanded, shoving whoever said it against the lockers
"How is she not? She's all snobby and a stuck-up good girl, now she lost her virginity and makes you go for rounds and rounds. She started wearing more revealing clothes and wearing a new perfume. She wants the attention, she loves it."
Eddie gulped as he slowly turned around to face her. His heart dropped when the tears were already falling down her face. She looked horrified and sick.
"You-you are a virgin?" Eddie stuttered, the guilt was already in his bones but now he felt like he couldn't breathe. The regret and guilt piled on his chest.
Y/N felt her face burn in embarrassment and ran off before anyone could say another thing.
"Shit!" Eddie cussed to himself and ran after her. She was quick but he was faster. She barely made it out the door when he caught her arm. The door closed behind them as they stood at the front of the school.
"Y/N I am so sorry," Eddie said as he turned her around. Her cheeks were wet with tears as she cried.
"Bullshit, Eddie," she scoffed as she wiped her cheeks, "You loved every second of your fake story. I mean I am so stupid for thinking you were different."
"I know, I fucked up. I didn't know people were saying those types of things about you. I'm sorry for being an asshole. I got clouded by all the attention it gave me, and I didn't think to ask why it was such a big deal to everyone and I'm so fucking sorry," he pleaded
"Yeah, it is a big deal! Especially to me. I was shamed for never liking a boy enough to have sex with, then I'm shamed for having sex with you. Which was a rumor, and a rumor you could have shut down with a simple explanation. But no, you wanted to seem cool from all the jocks and enjoy all the attention from girls who never looked your way otherwise. I am sick and tired of being shamed, and it hurts a whole lot more knowing it's because of you."
"Because of me?" Eddie asked, "Why?"
"Because I fucking like you!" she exclaimed, covering her mouth once she realized what she said. Eddie felt his eyes widen.
"I didn't know," he said quietly
"Why would you?" she scoffed, "I forgot that I'm just a plaything in the eyes of boys. Just a good whore."
"You are way more than that," Eddie defended, "Don't talk that way about yourself. You mean way more to me than a plaything."
"But didn't mean enough to protect?" She argued
"I didn't know you were a virgin! I didn't know that a rumor of us sleeping together would do any of this. If I could take it back I would. I like you and I liked knowing that people thought we were together" Eddie tried to defend
"I-I just don't know if I believe you. I think you like how people view you because of me."
"I would have never kissed you if I didn't have feelings for you," Eddie fought, rushing to move his hands on her face. "I wouldn't have noticed new clothes and new perfumes. I'll clear everything up and I'll kick anyone's ass that speaks about you. But please believe me when I say I'm sorry and that I like you."
"I need time," she said softly, he sighed sadly as she removed his hands and walked away.
~~~
The next day at lunch Eddie got on the tables and cleared everything up. He demanded people apologize for the way they treated Y/N and threatened anyone who had the nerve to say anything about her again.
Y/N appreciated he stood to his word and cleared the air. People did apologize but she didn't bother to forgive them. They didn't deserve her forgiveness, and she wanted this situation under the bridge.
A few days passed and Y/N was relieved that everyone moved on. She wasn't as popular anymore, given that she hated everyone and didn't bother to talk to anyone. She was nice to everyone and it got her stabbed in the back.
And for the boys who still decided to speak to her, Eddie handled for her.
"Now that you and Freak called it quits. What if I show you a good time?"
Y/N didn't have time to say anything when Eddie had the boy slammed against the lockers and a huge right hook against his face.
"I thought I made it clear that no one talks about my girl like that."
She wasn't Eddie's girl but the sound of him saying it made her heart race.
A full month passed and Y/N was starting to miss Eddie. She still tutored him, but no more breaks to make out. She kept them focused on school and she went home the second they were done.
She couldn't let herself be weak around him because then she'd be around his finger all over again. She hoped her feelings would disappear within time, but it seemed to still take over her world.
"Alright, think we are done!" Y/N cheered as she closed the textbook. "You should ace this test tomorrow, no excuses."
Eddie smiled as she pointed a finger in his face
"What do you think I'll get?" he asked
"A C plus, but I have faith you could score a B."
"Does the offer still stand if I get my first A?" he asked, chewing on his bottom lip as he nervously waited.
Y/N sighed to herself. She wanted to smack her past self for making the deal
"If I ever get an A, can I ask you to be my girlfriend?" Eddie asked, they both knew he was joking by the way he smiled and laughed
"You just met me! How do you know you want me to be your girlfriend?" she teased
"Because I've never seen anyone more beautiful"
He looked at her as she thought about it in her head.
"I guess we'll see if you get an A," she said, smiling sadly as she got up.
"I'm not going to stop until I get that A, sweetheart," he said with a smile, watching as she made her way out of his trailer. She looked over her shoulder and let out a small laugh.
It was a small moment, but Eddie thought about it all night.
~~~
Eddie knew he would never score an A, the best he could get was a B. But he refused to lose his only shot to win her back. It was wrong, but he didn't care.
He shifted his eyes to look at his neighbor's paper. It was a smart kid who always scored high, so Eddie was confident he was cheating off the right paper.
He answered all the questions he knew and cheated on the ones he had no slight idea of.
He turned his paper in with his fingers crossed and walked out.
The next day he rushed into class, tapping the table as he waited for the teacher to pass him his test.
~
Y/N was at her locker when she felt her body being turned around and familiar lips placed on hers. Her body gave in before her brain could fight it. Her lips moved with Eddie's as she tasted his mint gum, his hands on her body sent shivers down her spine.
Once she regained control she was quick to pull away
"What the hell are you doing?" she hissed as she touched her lips
"Celebrating my big A with my soon-to-be girlfriend," Eddie said with a proud smirk. He held up the test, a huge A written on the top.
"No way," she gasped, grabbing the test. She looked over his answers, all proving the test was correctly examined.
"What do you say? Can we give this a real shot? I promise not to be an idiot with your feelings this time." He promised as he bounced anxiously on his feet
"I still don't know Eddie," she sighed as she handed him the test
"Just a date, one night and we can take it from there?" Eddie asked
"Alright, fine. One date and we go from there," Y/N said. She watched Eddie's face lit up and a huge smile covered him.
"Yes! Thank you!" He cheered, kissing her cheek wet before he raced down the hallway.
His excitement made her smile, maybe a date wouldn't be horrible.
Tags!
@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlxt @ineedmentalhelp123
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfic#eddie stranger things#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson request#eddie munson fluff x reader#eddie munson angst#eddie munson angst x reader#ashwhowrites
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joel miller x reader
Not a lot, just forever universe
Summary: You can't keep secrets from Joel. Not even the ones you try to hide the best.
Warnings: Pregnancy, talks of death.
Being Joel Miller's controversial young girlfriend was not on your bucket list for that year.
You were a nurse at the firelights camp when he came with Tess to take a girl to the other side of the states. You didn't plan to join them, let alone stay after he successfully failed his mission. You were with him when he lost Bill, Frank and Tess, and you understood he couldn't' bear losing Ellie. So you helped him. You helped his selfish decision because you knew he was a selfless person. And he deserved some happiness, even if this happiness meant risking losing the only change in order to get a cure to this sick world.
When you got back to Jackson, you knew Joel looked at you differently. At least that's what Ellie told you. Little did she know, during the trip there may have been some stolen glances between the two of you. It was easy falling in love with him. So when he asked you on your first real date together, how could you decline?
A month later, the three of you were already living together. You were a really anxious person, and since forever, everyone's opinion has mattered to you. People loved to talk about the two of you behind your back, and even though it did kind of hurt you, the look of love that Joel gave you every time you two locked gazes—all those awful comments were worth it. Hell, everything was worth it. You started to not give a fuck about what people commented on the streets. You only cared about the little family you founded.
It wasn't until you just made yourself comfortable about everything that had changed since you came to Jackson, that something else had to go misguided. Not only was your period late, but pretty sure you were in fact growing a baby in your belly. You could tell, you have helped so many women to get through the pregnancy during those hard times, and even knowing everything that had to be done, you were terrified. Although you and Joel were at a very good point in your relationship, and Ellie was starting to get comfortable around Jackson, you didn't think to be capable of doing this next step. You always wanted to be a mother, to have a baby with Joel's eyes and smile. But, still, all of you were just starting to get comfortable after everything you went through. You knew all too well about Sarah and about his fear with Ellie. You wouldn't give him more burden; you couldn't do that.
So you just kept it hidden. Stealing his clothes, making up excuses about your period, visiting secretly the town doctor to check on the baby. It all had worked so well if he hadn't found out the way he did.
"Tell me you're lying." He threw the paper at the table.
"I swear I was going to tell you, Joel, I swear."
For as long as you've known him, you could always read his facade easily. But this time, you couldn't. You could see anger and disappointment, but mostly fear.
"Bullshit." He said your name with a trembling voice. "How far are you?"
"Around fourteen weeks, maybe more" You mumbled. "Listen to me, I-"
"No, you listen to me right now" He got closer to you, leaving the paper with the medical revision of the week. He did sound angry, but concern blinded his eyes. "You cannot expect this to happen if you don't have the enough trust to tell me in the first place that you are expecting"
"You don't understand. I did try to tell you, but I have been busy enough freaking the fuck out. You know how scared I am? You know how many women I have seen die because these conditions are miserable? How many motherless children have I greeted to this world because they didn't make it? How many babies...?" You weren't able to finish that sentence, but by how Joel's gaze softened, you knew he understood. He grabbed your hand, leaving the paper behind. "I don't know if I will be even able to make it." It was all you could whisper.
Even if he was mad at you, it felt refreshing to say all those thoughts out loud.
"No, no, don't say that, bug" He sat you down in the chair, kneeling in front of you. "You... you will make it out. We will make it out." He put his bare hands in your thighs. "You are a very strong woman. You are capable of this."
"I don't know..."
"Well, I do know." He whispered. "I just wish you told me sooner, those are some news"
You giggled. "I don't know why I was so scared to tell you, I've always believed you would stay, though."
"Of course, I will stay," He answered, slightly offended. "We will make it out, mark my words,"
"I didn't expect less from you."
Wait till Ellie finds out; she will be BAWLING
#joel miller#joel miller x you#joel miller x reader#joel miller tlou#joel miller fanfic#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you#tlou#tlou fanfic
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STUPID L♡VE - Toxic! Megumi Fushiguro x Fem! Reader
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [warning]: dark content, no curse au, aged up Megumi (both are in their midtwenties) fem!bodied reader, heavy angst, toxic and abusive relationship, love drunk reader, jealous megumi, abandoment issues, exes to "lovers", mentions of alcohol and drug use, smut, mean dom! Megumi, sub!reader, coercion, noncon to dubcon, manhandling, choking cunnilingus, mentions of blowjobs and face fucking, squirting, use of restraint, slut-shaming, mutual pining, manipulation, implied baby trapping, gaslighting
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [wc]: 5.01k
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [r-18+] not suitable for people aged 17 and under
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [masterlist] [taglist] [main page]
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ [authors note]: if you liked this, consider reblogging and commenting your thoughts, I'd love to hear them♡ this is a prelude to my megumi series "E-boys Ruined my life" so if you're interested in this, consider sticking around for a full series.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
IT was inevitable that you and Megumi were going to eventually break up.
Everyone else could see the signs as clear as the day that you two wouldn't last, that you two shouldn't have lasted, and yet this cat and mouse game you called a relationship spanned for four whole months, longer than anything he ever had before you and honestly he was shocked because it wasn't meant to last that long.
After all, he hated how clingy you were every time the two of you were together, holding onto him as if he was your lifeline, your sweet words of affirmation purring into his ears every time you settled yourself beside him. He hated that genuine smile you always had on your lips anytime you saw him, a scowl marring his pretty features whenever you entered the room, wrapping your arms around his lanky frame, your soft lips pressed on his cheek affectionately. He hated how you would stare at him with your emotions bare for him to see, especially during sex, always whimpering out praises to him, his name falling out your mouth, no matter how fast he was going just to shut you up because he knew that you couldn't keep up when he thrust at such an insane pace, no matter what pain he inflicted in you, forcing his cock down your throat just to see you suffer taking all of him with tears running down your cheeks. You never showed animosity to him, not even when you knew that when he's done using your body, he'd just put on his clothes and leave you there, aching, bruised, and too exhausted.
It was baffling how despite everything you stayed by his side, your love never wavering when it was his goal to destroy that happiness you had so that you could be like him; miserable and very self-aware of how the world was cruel to naive clowns like you.
You called it devotion, he called it stupidity and never hesistated to remind you how much of a stupid girl you were.
And finally, after four months of trying to break your resolve, he got tired of trying and told you it was over. "You make me sick," he had spat out in a cold tone, watching your face morph into one of pure shock while you just helplessly stood in front of his penthouse. "I'm done with you! Just get lost and pretend you don't know me." He concluded, trying to even out his heavy breathing.
Megumi didn't understand why his heart dropped to his stomach the moment you let out a loud, heart-wrenching wail the moment he slammed the door in your face, but he pushed it aside, disgusted he'd even think of caring about you in the first place, drowning your pleas and unsolicited apologies by increasing the sound of the call of duty he was playing before your visit.
The breakup wasn't so bad on him at first. He went back to his old life like getting high with his friends when he was free and attending parties only because there was some needy chick ready to help him get his dick wet somehow. He could feel a bit of your absence, you were always the one taking him home and putting him to bed whenever he was intoxicated, and in his moments of weakness, he'd ask you to lie beside him, resting your head on his chest and warming him up.
The bed is awfully cold without you lulling him to sleep, and now he'd spend his drunken nights forcing himself to remember why he hates you and why he doesn't need you until he falls back to a troubled sleep.
Women became a blur to him very soon, non-memorable compared to you. You were always willing for him to break you, your lips making such pretty sounds whenever he touched you, kissed you, or had sex with you. Your body was his, free for just him; you became his fantasy, his daydream whenever he was alone in his bedroom.
You always cradled him whenever he had nightmares of his childhood, despite all the caustic words he threw at you about leaving him all alone like his father did, calling you a slut, a whore in moments of jealousy before ripping your pants off or forcing you on your knees to remind you who you belonged to, because he never fully trusted you when he'd see you hanging around guys. They could have taken you at any point in time, they were far nicer and sweeter to you than he ever was.
The memories of you eat him alive slowly until he can't take it anymore. He accepts that as twisted as it sounds, he is actually in love with you.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
"You make me sick."
You sit at the window of the cafe, staring into space as you ruminate on Megumi's words yet again, a look of longing plastered across your face. It seemed that everyone you ever loved always, always felt disgusted by you no matter what you do.
You can remember the last time you met Megumi, back in high school. He was the school's sweetheart, everyone loved him and naturally gravitated towards the relatively cool and calm boy back then. His looks were also a booster to his already popular relationship; he was beautiful, the embodiment of perfection, with an arrogant grace to his walking step. He was on his way to class when he noticed that you were crouched over in a corner, tears glistening in your eyes, sobs escaping your lips as your period cramps wreaked havoc on you. You expected him to just ignore your presence like everyone else who saw you on their way to class did and you waited for him to just walk off, tears still rolling down your cheeks.
So when he stopped right in front of you, drawing the uniform of his school trousers up a bit to let him squat to your level, you could barely hide your shock, before it was replaced with pain again. Wordlessly, you let him pick you up from the floor, into his arms in a bridal fashion and walked you to the nurse's office, never leaving your side even after you slept off.
By the time you woke up, he was staring at your face like you were sleeping beauty, his green eyes glimmering in the setting sun, legs crossed over each other and his lips pressed in a line. He reached over and gently touched your cheek before telling you to go to the nurse's office the next time you felt like you were having cramps. You remembered the embarrassment you felt before it melted away into the warmth of affection and gratitude for his help. He walked you home that day, even giving up his sweater for you because you had bled out and stained your skirt, telling you not to worry about it and to return it tomorrow, only for you to search for him the next day to discover he had moved away to another school.
Ten years into the future and you bumped into him in your neighborhood. Apparently, he was your neighbor's best friend, Yuuji Itadori and he came for a visit. Despite him growing much taller, his chest and shoulders broader, his green eyes cold and devoid of any form of life, and his face matured, he was still the same boy -now a man- you fell in love with. Then, you should have known he wasn't interested in you when he pretended he didn't know or remember who you were when his eyes betrayed him.
You should have seen the signs when he finally acknowledged that he did know you, just that he didn't want to talk with anyone from his past; You included.
Or even if you were blind, Yuuji had tried to warn you that his friend was not the same as he was in the past, that he had underlying issues he's yet to resolve, "Megumi has grown cold over the years." Yuuji warned you as soon as he saw you were teetering on the ledge of 'I can fix him' like the other women Megumi has had in his life. He didn't want you to end up in a situation where you were devastated; you were a good person who deserved better.
But even with that information, you told him that you'd warm up Megumi's heart again; he'd be happy if he had someone to share his burdens with. Yuuji even brought Nobara, another friend who knew Megumi to try and talk to you. "Look for someone else." She warned, trying to change your mind. "I've seen how other women suffer for loving him. Do you think you can handle him when he is in one of his moods?" she asked, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you hard so that your senses would come back.
They stopped trying to help you as soon as Megumi announced that you two were a thing.
Looking back, you realize that you were a lost cause to them, and to be honest, your fate hasn't changed because you still cry for him just like you did all those years, holding onto his sweater as your lifeline when you cried every night, your heart aching in your chest with longing.
Not anymore though.
The sweater sits beside you, neatly folded in a ziplock bag, the only thing keeping you from getting closure from your failed relationship with the man you thought would love you back after all these years. Do you really think you were in a romance novel? Real-life didn't work that way and it was painful you had to realize the hard way. Sighing, you picked up your phone and searched for his number to text him:
You: I’m returning your sweater.
My love 💞: I don't remember giving you a sweater. Must have been one of the guys you were flirting with when we were in a relationship
You: it’s been in my drawer for about ten years. I think it’s time to let it go.
My love 💞: oh
My love 💞: You kept that thing. Always so sentimental.
My love 💞: Just donate it or better still, set it on fire.
You: I’m not burning it and I’m not donating it, Fushiguro. I’m giving it back to you to let go of whatever ties I have with you.
My love 💞: fine. Whatever rocks your boat, I’ll just burn it myself.
Frustration threatens to set in, but you remind yourself that it wasn't worth it anymore. At this point, you already expect this response from him and if this wasn't enough sign that you should break free from whatever feelings you have for him, then you don't know what is.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
TWO big dogs running from the open door to greet you in the hallway was a refreshing start. You smile as they settle on your foot before kneeling and hugging them tightly.
Honestly, you feel they are the only good traits Megumi has. He takes good care of these dogs, pets and pampers them more than he’s ever treated you.
Sometimes you hate him for it. Maybe if you were a damn dog he'd like you more.
"I've got to go guys," You whisper as they nuzzle your chest and neck affectionately. "Megumi doesn't want me here so this might be the last time you'd see me." You frown as soon as you hear them whimper as if asking you to stay longer. Maybe if it was a different circumstance, you would have.
If you stay any longer, you wouldn't move on.
Anxiously, you pull away from the dogs and stand upright, before making your way to his front door, your legs trembling from the tension you feel from within your mind. You know you aren't ready to face Megumi, not after the humiliating breakup that occurred right at his front door you were about to go back to again. Maybe giving him back this sweater was a mistake, you should have just burnt it like he suggested or given it to charity, anything to avoid confronting Megumi at this point.
You hesitantly knock on his open door gently, hoping that he wouldn't come out and you would just drop it on the doorstep and run away.
The door swung open and you gulped visibly as soon as his intimidating figure hovers above you, dressed in his slacks and dress shirt, his tie hanging loosely around his neck, hair disheveled and green eyes piercing through your soul and making you lose all feelings in your legs. Your voice got caught in your throat as he stares down at you, his pretty lips morphing into a smirk as soon as he sees you shuddering under his gaze.
"I haven't got all day, I just came from work and I'm tired," His tone is dry, seemingly amused at your lack of courage now that you are face to face. "Hurry up and give it to me," he demands lowly, leaning back on the lenticel.
You feel your hands shake violently as you slowly raise the package to his face. Your eyes stay glued to the ground, not wanting to meet his frightening gaze in fear of breaking down if you look him in the eye. Megumi's lips stretch into a bigger smirk as he watches you tremble before him, holding out the sweater as a protective shield, as if it can protect you from his eyes that linger on your curves, drinking in every dip and bulge while you stand motionless.
Deciding to play with your mind for a bit, he grabs your chin firmly, forcing you to look him in the eye. "You seemed so brave in the text messages," he scoffs at you disapprovingly. "I could swear you were going to break down my door if I didn't take the sweater from you."
Finally finding your voice, you force out a quiet "let me go" enough to reach his ears. This was what you were avoiding, for him to corner you like this to the point you would give in to his whims, just like when you were together. But you aren't, and he has no right to touch you like this anymore, so you bring your free hand up to him and push his chest as hard as you can.
"It almost seems like the sweater was an excuse for you to come and see me huh?" He teases, eyeing your body up and down as you attempt to push him away, internally laughing at your effort. "That's why you're so inappropriately dressed, isn't it?" he spits in his usual caustic tone as he refers to the dress you wore that clung to your body like a second skin, his member twitching at the sight of your beautiful body -your delicious curves, your terrified face, your thighs, everything. He remembers how willing you were for him to mark you, to put his fingerprints on your thighs, that may be why you were exposing them right now, right? And your chest, you would always throw your head back when he groped you through your top while fingering you, your neck exposed for him to litter marks all over them.
You belong to him, he can see that now.
"Megumi stop!" You hiss, finally showing how upset you were with him, snapping him out of his dirty thoughts. Scoffing, he slowly let go of you, taking a step back before opening the door wider for you. "You should come inside, I'm not sure the neighbors would appreciate you disturbing their peaceful Monday evening." He advises in an even and sharp tone. You suddenly feel small under his predatory gaze and your instincts tell you to reject his offer.
If you step inside that house, you would end up doing things that you weren't meant to do with him.
"That's not necessary-" you begin, now attempting to move back, pushing his sweater towards his line of sight. "Just take it and let me go."
"You know damn well I was never interested in that stupid sweater in the first place," he states, eyes not leaving your cleavage. His heart pounds in his chest as his erection straining against his pants. "Besides, I want to talk, so let's go inside." he insists impatiently, his eyes glued onto you.
"I'm not going in there with you."
"It wasn't a suggestion," his dark voice catches you off guard, his larger hand capturing your wrist in a bruising grip, causing you to gasp as he yanks you closer to his body, his hot breath fanning your face and neck, sending shivers down your spine. "unless you want me to fuck you in front of my neighbors, get inside, now."
You didn’t have to be told twice.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
YOU stifle a cry of pain as soon as he manhandles you into his living room, pushing you onto the love seat roughly, eliciting a pained gasp from your pretty lips -music to his ears and his hard-on as he hovers above you, dangerous green eyes undressing every inch of you, wondering where he should start devouring you from. His eyes settle on your thighs and he wonders to himself if he ever took his time to taste you the last time he bedded you. He keeps on moving towards the chair until he stands right in front of you, not breaking eye contact as he wedges a knee in between your closed legs, forcing them open without a word as he climbs onto your frightened figure, face hovering above yours while his broad arms cages you in.
"You know, I missed you," He confesses as his mint breath fanned your lips, not breaking eye contact with you. "I missed this," he leans closer before pressing his lips against your neck briefly, making you shudder at how cold his soft lips felt on your neck. He raises his head from your neck to look at your face again, pressing his forehead against yours and forcing you to inhale his expensive perfume, the scent intoxicating and overwhelming you, as typical of Megumi.
"We're not together anymore. I need to go-" You weakly protest, only for him to silence you with kisses, each harsher than the last until you give up and just kiss him back, letting him invade and conquer your mouth with his tongue, exploring every inch until you are both breathless and pulls away from you, foreheads still connected as he steadies his breathing.
"You want to leave me, huh?" He snarls, eyes, knee pressing harder on your throbbing clit, earning a choked moan from you. "Already found someone else? or you're fucking my friends behind my back?"
He doesn't even let you answer as he climbs off you and yanks your body to a face-down position, tying your hands behind your back in a secure knot with his tie, before yanking you back to your position. "You didn't even beg me, you didn't fall on your knees to pray that I return to you." he scoffs as he looks at his masterpiece; you tied up on his chair, legs sprawled out for him to see your clothed crotch, exposed for him to see, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. "Or maybe you want me to beg you? For me to apologize and get on my knees," He begins, his knees hitting the plush rug, hot heavy breaths fanning your thighs as his large hands hold them apart. "You want me to eat you out as punishment, huh?"
"Megumi, no, I didn't say-"
You go silent as soon as his head dove into your thighs and took a long sniff of your panties, wet with arousal, proof of your body betraying your mind. Your breathing becomes uneven as soon as you felt his hands move from your thighs to the panties, ripping them apart with a firm pull. Your worried eyes catch him staring at your wet core like a snack, licking his lips hungrily before darting his pink tongue against your clit experimentally. You shut your eyes in embarrassment when you let out a loud moan, jerking your legs at the pleasurable sensation, only getting louder as he aggressively dives his tongue inside you, his straight nose bumping onto your sensitive bud as he eats you out.
Your eyes roll back as soon as he threw your legs over his shoulders, grabbing your pillowy hips and rocking them into your face, thrusting his tongue faster while staring into your eyes with his predator glare, getting you weaker in the knees as he moves at an inhuman pace while he tongue fucks you.
The wet sounds of his tongue gliding into your core, while you moan his name like a mantra -as if that would ever make him go easier on you- only seem to spur him on, eager to taste your cum on his tongue before he properly fucks you to submission.
He is depraved and he knows it, but he doesn't care as long as he has your love and your body all to himself irrespective of how he treated you.
"Megumi-" you cry out, wanting to push his head off your core when you felt a strange coil in your stomach, much different than your usual orgasm -stronger perhaps- building up in your stomach. "Megumi stop, I feel strange," you cry out to him, only for him to send a glare at your direction, moving his head faster while he rocks your hips at a maddening pace despite your protests until he feels you violently shudder, a huge spurt of your cum decorating his tongue and parts of his face much to your horror.
"Shit," He rasps hungrily, lapping and sucking at every drop until he was satisfied, falling back onto the balls of his feet weakly, lips still glistening with your release and his spit, catching his breath for a bit before his pleasure-filled eyes flicker up to your shame-filled face again. "That felt great huh?" he asks quietly, moving up to his feet to stand, hands shakingly unbuttoning his shirt before shrugging it off his shoulders to reveal his beautiful lean torso.
You find yourself ogling at him again and yet you don't stop this time; What was the point? You had given up long before he made you come into his house anyways and now that he has eaten you out, your core only aches for him to fill you up to the brim like he always did, to shape you according to his lengthy cock, your anger and hurt buried deep down by how sexy he looks devouring and overwhelming you.
"See?" he mocks as he loosens his belt, noticing the horny, needy look you had on your face at the sight of him lowering his trousers and boxers to set his lengthy dick free into his palm. "didn't I tell you that you would like it?" he asks menacingly, pumping his dick in his hand as he hovers above your body, waiting for your answer while he climbs on top of you, positioning his cock near your slit. He notices your eyes greedily looking at his member instead of his face and for some reason, it angers him. Hissing under his breath, he grabs your throat and presses his fingers at the sides for you to pay attention to him. "I was asking a question you whore," He states, trying to keep his temper in check while you gasp slightly at the restriction. "but it seems you only like my dick huh? that's all you want?" he sneers as he buries himself inside you. "After I made you cum, you still can't pay attention to me?"
"No, Megumi, it's not like that, wait-" you stutter out, your brain getting foggy as he sheaths himself inside you fully. "Wait, wait, it's too much, pull out, pull out"
"Shut up." He snarls, gripping your throat tighter and forcing you to be quiet.
You could only moan as he begins to pump himself inside of you in quick successions, occasionally pulling himself out and leaving you clenching on nothing, only for him to slam himself inside you and move faster with much vigor, swearing as he pistons himself inside your pussy, hitting every spot you swear he didn't know or care about before, bringing the both of you to the edge again. He mercilessly pounds inside you, his hand releasing your throat and grabbing your feet to press them hard onto your chest so that he goes deeper inside you, as opposed to him just pulling out and dumping his load on your belly when he wasn't with a condom.
As if he is trying to breed you with his children.
Your eyes widen in realization, but it was too late, lost in the sea of pleasure as your climaxes hit, his hot seed pouring deep inside you as you cream all over his orgasming cock, the action only spurring him to cum faster until he was spent, leaving his dick inside you long after it softens.
You both just stay in that same position for a while, his head pressed against your neck until he pulls away from you and leaves you there in an uncomfortable position. You shudder at the feeling of his hot semen trickle down your thighs, tears threatening to gather in your eyes at the realization of his intent before hiding them once you hear his quiet footsteps moving over to you again, bucket in hand and two rags - one in his other hand and one hanging on his neck as if he prepared all this for you.
It was shocking because he would have told you to get lost by now, bare assed underneath your dress, struggling not to let it drop on his floor lest you make him furious.
Kneeling in between your thighs, he soaks the rag and squeezes it hard before wiping off the excess cum and spit on them, his eyes never leaving his work before dumping it inside the water and taking the other one to dry you off. Satisfied, he gets up and reaches behind you before tugging off his silk tie with the flick of his wrist, setting you free from his makeshift bondage.
Free enough to slap him, but you know better than to wander into that dangerous territory.
"I'm tired," He mutters once he gets up. He isn't lying; the dark circles underneath his eyes and the sudden fatigue from the slump of his shoulders gave him away. Has he been sleeping well? "come on, let's go to bed."
You don't protest -you don't even have the chance- as he yanks you up from the chair and takes you in his arms, before making his way to the stairs until you both reach the hallways leading to his room, a place you've always been familiar with for a while. It felt nostalgic in a sick sense, him carrying you to the place of rest while you were aching, just like the first time the two of you met before he moved away.
Maybe Megumi was still that same boy you craved for all those years, kind and caring, willing to help you out. Or maybe he was always the man you devoted your heart to, depraved and cruel and you just didn't have enough time to find out who he truly was because he left. The rumors back in high school about him beating up bullies who pissed him off and then taking advantage of the kindness of the victims by getting whatever he wanted makes more sense now to you as you're seeing it first hand.
You should hate him, really, but he's laying you down on his bed like a gentleman and he's climbing beside you, throwing his hand over your torso and pulling you closer to him until your body presses against his.
How could you hate him when you can hear his heartbeat against his chest while you rest your head on it, yours following in sync as you close your eyes? He made love to you on his couch, ate you out, cleaned you up, and brought you here to rest with him and you thought of hating him? Maybe this was why you made him sick in the first place, your ingratitude! Didn't you see he has changed? Sure, his words were caustic, but that's just the way he talks, you should know by now.
"Megumi." You call out quietly, feeling his sharp jaw on your head. He hums in response, resting his palm flat agaist your thigh.
"I love you."
You expect him to scoff at you before telling you to pick your shoes and leave. You even expect a cold "I know" or "Whatever you say" to come out of his mouth before turning his body to the opposite side and leaving you alone.
Instead, you feel his lips inch closer to your ears before whispering a quiet, "I love you too" and then kissing the shell of your ear, while grinding his semi-hard cock against your ass subtly, light sighs escaping his lips as he felt his dick strain his pants again.
The feeling of his hard-on against your soft ass made you moan softly in response, before shuddering as his large hand pulled your clothes up and guided his cock to the opening of your already wet folds, ready to fill you up to the brim all over again just to show his love.
And he'll keep doing it again every chance he gets, every time he sees you until your stomach starts to swell with his child and you have no excuse not to beg for him to come back when he decides to break you again. The game his twisted mind made up is far over and not even these feelings he harbors for you deep down in his heart would stop him from further destroying you until you were just as miserable as he was and until he - and no one else but him, becomes your only source of joy.
"You love me right? Then you won't mind being my mommy, would you?"
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➞ layla 2024, do not repost, translate or plagarize my post on this platform or any other platform. before you follow, read my rules first.
#fushiguro megumi x reader smut#megumi fushiguro x reader smut#megumi fushiguro#megumi fushiguro x reader#fushiguro megumi smut#fushiguro megumi angst#megumi angst#fushiguro megumi x reader#jjk fushiguro#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader angst#jujutsu kaisen x female reader#megumi fushiguro x female reader#megumi smut#fushiguro megumi x reader angst#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you
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cinnamon in my teeth pt.2
CaitVi x fem!reader
You were so used to coming home to an empty, silent house. No parents, no friends, no one to greet you after your shifts at work. Just the soft, solitary hush of an empty house.
The silence sat heavy on your shoulders - that feeling of being alone, and isolated.
You'd spend hours sitting quietly, lost in your head.
You'd go hours without speaking a word to anyone, the only company you had being the sound of your own heartbeat and the voices inside your head.
Life was quiet. Lonely.
But now… now the house was full of sound. Of warmth and laughter and love.
You'd come home to the sound of arguments, of giggles and laughter, of two women who loved you very dearly. You'd be met with smiles instead of loneliness, and you'd be greeted with warm kisses before even finished saying hello.
The silence was still there sometimes, but it was different. Softer. It was a comfort to walk into the house and still feel the presence of your girlfriends, even when they weren't there. Their clothes, their accessories, their distinct scents.
They didn't always come home together, unfortunately. Their jobs often left them both late at night, either one getting home before the other, sometimes both being late. Caitlyn was a workaholic, so often she'd be at her desk well beyond the hours most normal people would consider reasonable.
Caitlyn was an incredibly dedicated person, and while you knew work was important to her, both you and Vi were always happy that she tried to make time for you.
There were times when it was hard, though. When she'd come home in the late hour, looking tired and worn out and stressed. When she'd spend long hours hunched over paperwork, and you'd find her in the middle of the night, still not done.
But overall, it wasn't too bad. You appreciated that she was willing to put work aside for you and Vi.
You can never get excited for Fridays. You love that the end of the week brings a break from work, but at the same time, that Friday energy always seems to bring all the idiots with it. Meetings, last minute reports, and unexpected calls from clients who need their paperwork signed by the end of the week.
You let out a soft sigh, dropping your pen down on the desk. Your back popped as you finally straightened your spine, feeling the knots of pain in your shoulders unknotting.
Your eyes roamed over the rest of the office, eyeing out your coworkers. Just like you, they all had that shrimp-like slouch, slumped over their desks.
Office life was slowly destroying your back.
Your eyes narrowed as you spotted your boss, standing across the office with a cup of tea and another coworker. Your boss is an absolute ass - a massive jerk who thinks that just because you're the younger, he can push every last responsibility onto your shoulders.
But he'd been much quieter lately and seemed to be avoiding you like you had a deadly disease, passing on work to others instead of giving it directly to you. It was a strange change.
And there was something about the glitter on his neck that was familiar… pink and blue, he tried covered it with a scarf but you noticed. The glitter dusted across his skin, plus the hint of a limp he now had, and the fact that someone had spent an entire day cleaning the graffiti from the his office...
You finish the last of the coffee in your mug, unable to help a small smile lifting your mouth.
Caitlyn and Vi hadn't promised to stay out of it, but Jinx… Jinx didn't make such promise.
Jinx was Vi's younger sister, and the relationship between the sisters was… complicated, to say the least. At least they weren't currently fighting, but it was only a matter of time.
She was insane, that was for sure. But you also kind of liked Jinx… when she wasn't kidnapping you or trying to burn down the city, that is. Despite her occasional kidnappings and pranks, Jinx did sort of treat you differently than anyone else. You couldn't quite pin down why.
You were normal. A civilian, no history of violence, no blood on your hands, an average person. Perhaps it was just because you were normal.
It had been an odd encounter when Jinx kidnapped you for first time, but the first thing you'd said to her? "I like your hair."
The clock on the wall finally reached the end of the work day, marking the end of your shift.
You stood from your seat, stretching your stiff back, letting a sigh out of your lips. Your boss looked nervous as you smiled at him, walking past.
The evening air was cool, sending a chill down your spine. With a sigh you tightened your jacket around your shoulders, searching for any sign of Vi.
Suddenly, you felt a pair of hands fall over your eyes, and a familiar voice spoke behind you.
"Guess who?"
Vi leaned her face close to your ear, her smile widening as she heard your comment, her breath warm. You could feel a smile tug at your lips, the familiar scent and warmth of your girlfriend's presence bringing you comfort. The feel of her body next to you was as natural and comforting as breathing.
"A bit predictable, don't you think?" you smirked, a slight hint of sarcasm in your tone.
"Maybe. But it gets you every time."
She moved her hands away from your eyes and instead wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer. The kiss was light and gentle, and you could feel the blush quickly take over your cheeks.
Vi's hair was a bit dirty, a mess of tangled locks, yet somehow it still looked as cool as ever. There was a slight smudge of dirt across her cheek, probably from some sort of grease, and you reached up to wipe it away.
Vi's arm wrapped around your waist as you took slow strides towards your house, your pace relaxed in the cool evening air. The walk wasn't far, only ten minutes from the office.
You still couldn't believe it sometimes, living in a mansion now, a far cry from your small apartment, and you had two girlfriends. Life was weird.
"How was your day?" Vi said softly.
You loved your job for the most part. Yeah, it had endless paperwork and tedious reports, but it paid the bills, and the people you worked with were nice and helpful.
Vi didn't always fully understand what you said, but that never stopped her from paying attention and trying to grasp the concepts. It was one of the things you loved most about her - her unwavering attention and curiosity.
The walk home was filled with you discussing work and venting to Vi, who listened and asked questions in the right spots. She nodded along, making noises of understanding to let you know that she was following along.
The lights of mansion glowed warmly in the windows as you and Vi approached, letting you know that Caitlyn was home. Perfect, since that meant she was probably already cooking dinner.
Vi didn't quite know how to cook, although Caitlyn and you was more than happy to help her. You usually took the lead in the kitchen, but you'd grown tired of it recently, and you couldn't deny the appeal of Caitlyn handling all the cooking.
You and Vi exchanged a knowing look, both of you thinking the same thing. Caitlyn's cooking was that good.
The moment you stepped into the house, the scent of freshly-cooked meat immediately hit your nostrils, your mouth watering at the thought of a proper meal after a day filled only with snacks.
Both you and Vi walk into the kitchen, finding Caitlyn standing by the stove. She looks adorable in the little apron she’s wearing, and you can tell she's a little tired - her forehead is creased with a worried little crease, and her messy hair is pushed back into a bun.
The moment you enter, she turns to you both, a warm smile on her full lips.
"You're home!" Caitlyn exclaims with a pleased sigh.
You watch as Caitlyn leans over to give Vi a swift, affectionate kiss. Vi leans into the kiss, her arms wrapping around Caitlyn waist in a tight little pull.
"I missed you," she murmurs.
It was true that a lot of people didn't understand how three women could be in a relationship with each other. So many people tried to insist it was some sort of twisted experiment - that someone had to be left out, or that everyone was secretly miserable.
You had heard the questions - Don't you feel lonely? Don't you get jealous? - and you usually had just shrugged them off with a wry smile. After all, you were dating both the two most beautiful women in existence.
Jealousy? Loneliness? You feel neither.
Caitlyn then turns her attention to you, her expression softening.
"And I missed you too," she adds, her hand coming up to gently caress your cheek. "Did you have a good day, sweetheart?"
"It was..work as usual." You can't help smiling. It's such a stupid, lovesick, soft expression - like lovestruck puppy.
But you don't care at all.
Caitlyn smiles back, the corners of her eyes crinkling faintly.
"You're all happy like an idiots," Vi teases, an amused scoff in her voice. Her arms are still wrapped around Caitlyn's waist.
"Just work, huh?"
Caitlyn raises a curious eyebrow, her eyes watching you closely. A flicker of something - something you can't quite decipher - crosses over her face. There was something in her expression, like she was expecting a certain answer from you.
Well, someone had to set Jinx on your boss, right? Well, Caitlyn promised not to hurt your boss. Smart decision and no broken promises.
She nod regardless, and simply says, "Dinner's just about ready, so you might want to go wash up before you eat."
"Ugh," Vi groans, her grip growing tight on Caitlyn, as if it's to hold her in place.
Caitlyn simply rolls her eyes and gently bats Vi's hands away from her. "Go," she says, her voice firm. "You can't eat if your hands are all dirty."
You take Vi's hand and start to pull her towards the bathroom, leading her away from Caitlyn.
Vi gives one last, half-hearted protest, but she lets you pull her away without too much fuss. She follows you to the bathroom, and you start to wash at the sink.
It's so stupid how cute Vi can be when she's pouting like this. She's always been so used to getting her own way that she acts like a whiny five-year-old sometimes. It's both adorable and incredibly annoying at once.
You all sit at the table, and Vi is already shoveling food into her mouth like a greedy puppy. She's completely ungraceful, taking large, messy bites.
Caitlyn, on the other hand, is incredibly slow, savoring every bite of her food. She's a woman raised with manners and discipline, after all.
Christmas was on its way, and you now had a beautiful tree in the living room. Vi has never, ever been able to celebrate Christmas properly. Now she was going through all the effort to make her first Christmas "proper," and it was adorable how enthusiastic she was about it.
She was practically vibrating with excitement when you all first got the Christmas tree out. Her eyes lit up so brightly as she excitedly babbled about how much she was looking forward to decorating the tree together.
You all chat. The snow is falling outside, slowly blanketing your home in a layer of white, soft snow that creates a sense of comfort. Vi is so excited that you can't help but laugh at the fact that she didn't even notice the mess she's made of her own face.
Caitlyn has to wipe away some of the sauce from Vi's face, muttering about how she's a mess - but there's an affectionate, amused smile on her face.
You remember the days of instant ramen in a bowl and a quiet, empty apartment - you were always alone. The difference now is incredible, the change in lifestyle so immense that it still feels a little like a dream sometimes.
Christmas has always been a bit of a mixed bag for Caitlyn - she didn't hate it by any means, but there was always a lot of pressure for her to be on her very best behavior.
She would have had to arrange an event for the entire Kiramman family, which meant she would have had to talk to an awful lot of people who she absolutely did not like.
You're aware of this, and you'd make sure that she'd never have to go through it again. So you'd insisted that both of your girlfriends spend Christmas with you - no formality, just three girlfriends together in a happy home. You wanted it to be a peaceful holiday, without the usual stress.
As you pick up the dirty dishes, Vi cracks her knuckles and stretches before heading upstairs to take a shower. You know she'll be waiting in bed for you and Caitlyn later.
Caitlyn follows you, her hands at her sides, looking at you as you start washing the dishes. She watches you for a moment, studying you quietly.
Caitlyn has never been fond of people doing chores in her home. She'd rather do it herself, even though it was never necessary. She'd grown up in a house with servants, and she always hated it - it left her feeling like an outsider in her own home.
There is a time you remember when her gaze scared you. The weight of her stare was almost uncomfortable. She was so strong, so smart, so intimidating. Now you cherish that gaze. Now you love it when she stares at you.
"You know, my boss has been incredibly quiet lately," you say, breaking the silence with a saccharine-sweet voice.
Caitlyn's eyes narrow at your comment, a small frown marring her perfect face. She knew you knew.
Somehow, Caitlyn had convinced Jinx to... prank your boss. You knew Jinx wouldn't have thought to do it on her own - she was currently too busy with Zaun politics to really care about your problems. You hadn't seen her in months.
"He was?" she says, her tone as calm as your own. "I wonder why."
You finish washing the last dish in the sink, and turn off the water.
Caitlyn gives you a towel, and you quickly start to dry your hands. There's something you want to say, but you can't outmaneuver Caitlyn - she grew up with all these little games, and you, for all your effort, can never really match her.
No games, then.
"Jinx? Caitlyn, honey, just how?"
Caitlyn snorts, her head tilting to one side as she pushes some hair out of her face.
"How do you know it's me?" she asks, pretending to be unperturbed by your accusations. "Maybe it was Vi."
You roll your eyes, so hard it almost hurts.
There's no way it was Vi. She never would've thought up something like this on her own - and she would never be able to talk to Jinx without a fight. Those sisters are hopeless, two bickering children. You honestly wish they'd just get therapy or something.
Caitlyn laughs at your reaction, the sound soft and amused. She pulls you closer, wrapping her hands around your waist. She smells of spice and food - but there's that lingering scent of gunpowder there, that was just a part of her now. Always lingering like some sort of phantom.
"It helped that she likes you," she said, voice laced with amusement. She knew Jinx had a soft spot for you, and she'd have used that to her advantage. "And she likes to cause chaos, and i showed her the right direction."
Right. Well, you definitely won't tell Vi about this.
You nuzzle your face into Caitlyn's neck, just like a affectionate cat.
"I should've handled this myself." You murmur against her skin, your voice a little annoyed. You're not sorry for the man getting what he had coming - the jerk deserved it.
Caitlyn lets out a small sigh, your statement coming as no surprise to her. "I know," she murmurs, her voice soft and gentle.
Your girlfriend knew about your insecurities all too well. She could see the way you eyed Vi and her, the way you'd always compare yourself to the two of them. Just a regular person - you worked in an office job and had never stepped foot in combat. Nothing really special.
Caitlyn was particularly attuned to your feelings - she'd known you long enough now to be able to tell when you were feeling especially down on yourself. You were so much more to her than "nothing special."
Because you were a remarkable person. You should have more confidence, and know that you were worthy, special, and desirable in your own way.
She murmurs apology as you nuzzle against her, and you feel her gently running her fingers through your hair. "You know I hate that man for treating you the way he does," she murmurs, her voice soft and caring.
You and Caitlyn press each other close, clinging together. You both know that you can't stay like that for too much longer - Vi probably already waiting in the bedroom for you both, and she's not exactly the most patient person in the world.
Caitlyn presses a soft, final kiss to your forehead, before slowly detaching herself from your embrace.
"We should go to bed," she mumbles. "I'll probably get chewed out if we keep Vi waiting."
Caitlyn leads you up to the bedroom, a soft look in her eyes as you try to stay awake.
A yawn escapes you, and you cover it with your hand. Not only were you glad you didn't have to go anywhere tomorrow, but you were incredibly happy to get to just curl up in bed all morning, with both of your girlfriends still asleep beside you.
You loved those quiet moments. The stolen glances, the walks through the city, the soft touches and easy banter. It just felt so good, so right.
Yes. Life was good.
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YAN! WRIOTHESLEY X FEM! READER
m i n o r s d o n o t i n t e r a c t !
" 𝐍𝐎 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒. "
— 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 —
do not interact/read if the following triggers you! MENTIONS OF / IMPLIED STALKING, IMPLIED MURDER, MENTIONS OF BLOOD, USE OF APHRODISIACS, ODAXELAGNIA, NON-CONSENSUAL DISPLAY OF AFFECTION, IMPLIED MASTURBATION, UNPROTECTED SEX, BREEDING KINK, ORAL SEX [RECEIVING], AND FINGERING IMPLIED / DESCRIBED.
OVERPROTECTIVE AND TOXIC / OBSESSIVE / POSSESSIVE BEHAVIOR.
•,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,• You should've known better than to blindly follow an order to enter Wriothesley's office that day.
Your morning had started off rather normal, with the exception of Sigewinne visiting you to leave you a letter written by none other than the Duke. At first, you thought it was just a notice for you, one related to business matters, or one about ordeals within the Fortress.
The letter resulted to be nothing at all what you expected it to be.
It was merely a note. "Please pass by my quarters when you have time today. Preferably during evening hours. I'd like to have a chat with you." That was it. Nothing more, nothing less. Simple, direct, and straight to the point. Just like the man himself.
The little Melusine who handed you the letter wore a bright yet small smile on her face as she stood up straight. "It seems you've caught the eye of His Grace," she says, almost teasingly, though you shook your head. "I wouldn't go as far as to say I've caught the attention of someone like him," you reply with a wry smile, though a part of you silently wishes it were otherwise.
But you had caught his eye, and from far early on too. The Lord of the Fortress of Meropide rarely traveled to the surface. It wasn't every once in a million years, naturally, but, it wasn't a common sight. Most cases, he was there strictly on business and other important matters rather than on vacation.
That, however, changed the moment he saw you. You were breathtaking, and better yet, you were not intimidated by his presence alone. Most people would keep their distance, look away, unable to meet his gaze, and lack the ability to keep their composure around him. But you?
You were perfectly fine being near him, wearing small smiles that gave him absolute butterflies, as much as he hated to admit. You were honest and though maybe partly reserved, still willing to share a proper chat when he approached you. He liked that. Sigewinne noticed.
And he wasn't sure whether he liked the little Melusine nosing around whenever he met you, because for all he knew, she could start getting ideas, and that... wouldn't have been ideal, put it lightly.
Nevertheless, it's easy to say that his visits to the surface became more frequent. He made your acquaintance and quickly enough became friends with you. It was smooth riding so far, and he was finding that the situation was going well for him.
Occasionally, the two of you would talk over a cup of tea and you'd chat about how things had been in your lives, whether maybe you'd lost a pendant you liked, or how there was a coffee you tried somewhere that was rather bitter, or how he had less work than usual, so he decided to spare some time to relax on the surface.
It was fine.
That is until he found out you had fallen in love the past days. But oh no, you were not in love with him. You were in love with someone else. That was the issue. So he began to inquire. How did this person act? How did you meet them? Do you think they'd make a great partner?
Simple questions just to see what was your view of them.
Don't get him wrong — he's glad that you've found someone you love. He's just upset that the person you've fallen for isn't him. So he then decides to find the person for whom you fell for. It doesn't take long for him to find them, and it's not much effort to convince them that he's only visiting on behalf of business matters.
He returns every so often back to the surface to meet with you and to keep eyes on your interest, making sure there are no "unwanted" advances between the two of you, and when he's at the Fortress, he simply has to hope that nothing occurs. Having someone work for this type of thing would be rather inefficient and would raise unnecessary suspicions.
Sure, people don't really need to understand what the Duke's motives are, but that doesn't refrain them from filing a report to the Chief Justice about unusual behavior. The two are acquainted, after all, and Neuvillette is more than adept at reading the behavior of humans.
So with that in mind, he decided it was best to do things himself. After all, if you want a job done right, you have to do it yourself. One day, whilst you conversed with Wriothesley, you spoke of how you planned to finally confess. He was immediately interested, and he, of course, listened, even if deep in his mind the person whom you treasured was a pool of blood.
If your confession proved to be successful, he'd have to find a way to slowly seed problems into the relationship. He isn't fond of what he'd have to do, but unfortunately enough, the small feeling of jealousy that has wrapped itself around his heart is eating away at him.
He'd find the little details that bring you and your significant other apart and slowly begin to rip those traits up to the surface. He'd at times advise you that there were things you should watch out for, given this would be your first time in a relationship (or he'd assume so), and most likely, he'll find a way to tear down the relationship bit by bit and make it seem like it wasn't even his fault. It will appear as if it was just that you were mistaken, that this relationship wouldn't really work out.
That being said, if your confession resulted in a rejection, he'd comfort you. He knows how much it'd hurt having your feelings being rejected like that, and he especially doesn't want you crying for someone else who isn't deserving of causing your sorrow. He wouldn't want you tearing up to the one who had the audacity of even making you cry. He'd probably be mad at the person, but not enough to walk back at them and talk to them about it, as much as he'd wish to rip them into two. He exercises self-control, and somehow manages to control himself.
Depending how the person reacted to your confession, would Wriothesley's anger be gauged. Unfortunately enough for you, and much to Wriothesley's pleasure, you were rejected. Now, don't get him wrong; he wants you to have a successful relationship, but he also doesn't want you being with someone that doesn't deserve you.
So the moment that you come to him, your expression more solemn and down than usual, he already knows what's happened. He invites you over to the Fortress inside to cheer you up and for a change in atmosphere. While taking you to a place meant for imprisonment isn't exactly one's definition of "fun," you were rather curious to see what was the place this man called home.
To your surprise, it was well kept, and didn't look like it was rotting as you thought it would be. He also showed you around his quarters, to let you know where he'd be, and of course he introduced you to Sigewinne, who was more than happy to meet you.
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[| "Y/N, this is Sigewinne, our head nurse."[| "Oh, is this the person you've been rambling on about lately, Your Grace?"[| "... Sigewinne."
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You could've sworn that you saw a small smirk on the Melusine's face because she knew that His Grace was head over heels for you. Of course, you didn't know that, but... she did. You were later on dismissed, and for the next weeks, you stayed at the Fortress, given you met several new people in there and wished to get to know them better.
Wriothesley being the busy man he is, doesn't always have time to get out of his quarters, but god, with you around he can't help but give a few more rounds to the Fortress just to watch you as you go about your day. How he remembers your smiles, when you mentioned to some your hobbies, your interests, and so on so forth...
His gaze often falls on your small frame and his mind will wander to how perfectly it will fit against his larger figure when he's deep inside of you and—
Wriothesley thinks this is wrong. He thinks this is twisted in more ways than one, but he can't bring himself to stop it. He's helpless to the thought of you running your hands through the soft tufts of his hair whilst he holds you to himself, the way your lips would feel when matches them with his own, or how beautiful you'd sound when he inserts his digits into you as you struggle to not moan out his name.
He hates that he can't feel you. It's driving him mad.
Sometimes he's filling in and signing the mountain of paperwork he has on his desk and his mind trails off to you, and archons it's not even a minute before he has to stand up and drink some tea to clear his head. On some occasions, he'll feel so utterly pent up that there's nothing left for him to do than to lock his doors and let his hand soothe his frustrations and urges while he wishes his hand were your own or your mouth instead.
His mind is clouded with thoughts he wouldn't speak of in front of the rest and a part of him feels guilty about feeling in such a way towards you, yet he knows he wouldn't have it any other way. He's completely enthralled by you and obsessed by the thought of being able to claim you as his own.
It grows to the point that every day he sees you becomes unbearable. He can't stand how your sweet voice falls on those who don't deserve to hear it, how you smile at the prisoners whenever you get to speak with them and help them out during their shifts, how your hands sometimes barely brush together when you walk amidst crowds and he swears that a single touch of yours is enough to make him want to pick you up right then and there and fuck you raw away from prying eyes.
He is desperate. And he needs you.
So he decides that today is that day. After a few days of spending time with Sigewinne in order to mix in certain herbs with tea, he ends up with a particularly sweet tea. He reserves it for you. He's pacing in his office before he sits down in a relaxed manner, waiting for you to enter.
And the moment he hears the gentle knocking on his door accompanied by your voice asking for permission to enter, he can already feel his heart hammering. Allowing you to enter, you close the doors behind you, and for a man who's obsessed in every sense of the word, he's certainly composed.
He gestures for you to take a seat, to which you comply, and then he goes off to get the tea. After all, what better way to host a small meeting like this than to talk over a cup of tea? You're able to take in its sweet aroma and taste, and to say you liked it may have been an understatement.
"So how have you been finding the Fortress?" he muses, one leg crossed comfortably over the other. You only smile softly as you respond, taking a quick sip of your tea before answering. "Certainly different than what I expected it to be, but it seems to be managed well."
His Grace only smiles in return, and he then clicks tongue. "Say, have you enjoyed your stay here?" he asks, taking a sip as he waits. "It's been great. While some have a sharp tongue, there are a couple of people who have been good company, even if most of the time I'm around Sigewinne," you answer.
"Speaking of, where has she been?" you state, because now that you thought about it, you hadn't seen the little Melusine around the Fortress recently. Wriothesley just blinks as he then slightly mouths an 'oh.' "She's been off gathering herbs for medicine and treatment," he replies, before finishing the rest of the tea in his cup.
You hum in understanding as you stay still, having finished your own cup as well. "I see. Anyways, thank you for the tea," you reply in gratitude. The Duke only nods, as he remains there, seemingly observing you for any changes.
The two of you keep conversing, but throughout the conversation, you start to take note of something. You feel a little... moist. Perhaps you were exerting yourself too much recently?.. No, that couldn't be it — you felt as if you were getting warm all of a sudden. You couldn't exactly place your finger on what the sensation was.
Additionally, you couldn't exactly shake off the feeling no matter how hard you tried to focus on the man in front of you, and as time passed, you began to lose focus on the conversation you held with Wriothesley and your attention shifted to yourself, your gaze falling in between your thighs, the space feeling rather wet, for a lack of better words, the only thing in your mind being how unusually much you wished to be—
"Y/N?"
Wriothesley's voice snapped you back to the present as you felt blood rush to your face. No, that wasn't right, why were you feeling like this...? This was wrong... The man in front of you could only pretend for so long that he didn't know what was happening, but he wasn't in a far too different situation. The seemingly faint bulge in his pants grew ever slightly, and he was already starting to feel a little trapped and tight in his coat. He knew that you were starting to receive the effects already, so it was only a matter of time.
"Are you feeling well?" He murmurs, placing a hand on your shoulder before giving it a light squeeze, and you can swear that for a split moment you almost shiver. "... I.. it's.. sorry," you manage to murmur as you sigh quietly as you shook your head. "Is it just me, or.. is it getting rather hot in here..?"
Oh, how he wants to laugh.
You almost feel stupid having asked something of the like, and Wriothesley's barely holding himself together as he breathes quietly and calmly. He's on the verge of taking you right here and then, but he decides against it just to see what you'll do. "I feel it too," he replies relaxed, and your eyes seem to slightly light up. "Oh, so it's not just me..? That's at least a bit reassuring..."
He's so fucking desperate. Can't you tell?
And then he asks the magical question. "Why do you think I asked you to come in here?"
You blink, thinking through the question, before answering, a bit perplexed. "Because you wanted to talk...?" you reply. The man chuckles softly, though he shakes his head. "More than that, there was... something else." Confusion begins to run through your mind as you try to inquire as to what he means but before you can say another word, he picks you up, and carries you away as if you were nothing but a feather.
He locks the door to his office, and he walks up the stairs with you in his arms. "Wriothesley, what're you doing?—" you can barely say, your face pressed up against his clothed chest, but he silences you as he lays you flat on his desk.
His firm hands are quick to undo your clothing in your lower body, as he he carefully but easily slides off your undergarments. You can only feel the heat rush through you as your heart pounds. "Wriothesley, what are you—"
And your voice leaves you as you feel him spread apart your legs with his cold fingers, a bitter chill running through your spine as his tongue only starts to tease you by dampening furthermore your already wet folds. You can only bite your tongue to hold in a moan, though it proves futile when he begins to work on your clit, teasing and tracing faint circles with his tongue, causing a few whines to escape your mouth.
You can't tell whether to feel pleasured or scared. Wriothesley gives you no time to think.
He makes no effort to stop whilst you can only grasp and tug his hair, while you nervously and shakily run your hands down his smooth, black locks that glisten beneath the amber lights of his office. It doesn't take much longer for him to reach your entrance, and you clasp your mouth with your hand as you inevitably moan involuntarily. You feel your eyes practically roll back as you try to maintain your gaze focused on the raven-haired male, feeling the wet muscle continuously slipping in and out of your tightened entrance and you're certainly grateful the walls of his office are soundproof.
"Wriothesley, I can't— f-fuck!"
You can't help but squirm, your heart racing as your chest heaves up and down. Your vision is somewhat hazed, your attempts to shift comfortably failing as a new wave of pleasure surges through you as your entrance and clit are endlessly teased and caressed, a pressure building up inside you.
He's eating you out, and you're not even exactly sure if your mind would agree that you enjoy it, but your body sure as hell is, because your senses are getting stimulated beyond possibility. Your breathing is definitely evident and no longer quiet, and you can barely muffle how vocal you're growing until at a moment, you feel him retract at last.
Yet before you're able to question it, he repositions himself above you, and he's pinning your wrists above your head, his knees at either side of you as his imposing figure looms over your body, casting a slight shadow on you. "You sure are — hah — quite loud," he whispers with a teasing smirk edging on his face, his tone of voice growing a bit rasped as he reaches for an item that dangles on his hips — one you're quite familiar with.
Handcuffs.
And before you know it he's clipped them onto you and bound your wrists to his desk above your head, not allowing you to move them, their silver hue glister, glimmering in the dark shadows. "You're fucking mine," he snarls before he kisses you on the lips with fervor, almost as if he might just devour you on the spot if you don't do anything about it.
He's rough and passionate, not giving you a chance to breathe. The sudden ferocity and intensity in his act is more than enough to leave you breathless whilst you try to get used to it, to which he responds with a low growl. It's as if he's been starved for ages and his hunger is to never be sated. He bites down softly on your lower lip, effectively causing you to part your lips, giving him a chance to slide his tongue within.
The rush it gave you was almost feverish, even if it was wrong at its core. He tastes sweet, you think, as your tongues mingle together, the sweetness flooding your palates. Your train of thought was interrupted once more when he finally separated, and you breathed heavily. He was catching his breath, his mouth slightly hung open, giving you a view of the sharp canines he possesses. A small, barely noticeable trail of saliva connected your lips to his own, and he stared down at you, licking his lips to rid the saliva before his gaze landed on your neck. His hands, even with wraps and binds, were cold to the touch as he caressed your soft skin.
You're still catching your breath, blood rushing to your face when you feel him bite into your flesh, a quiet cry akin to a whine leaving you, only fueling his desire. He quietly growls, and he almost seems feral as he licks over the wound, moving quickly to other uncovered areas in your neck as he litters kisses around it. He bites hard and deep, sucking on the skin just enough to leave a couple of hickeys on you.
"You're all mine."
No words are required to be exchanged as he pauses, just leaning back. Seeing your taken-aback expression, he just chuckles softly, his icy gaze combined with the ever earnest smirk he wears already enough to keep you still beneath his iron grip. "I could just eat you up and you'd beg for more, wouldn't you, huh?" He states, his voice sounding like music to your ears.
"Bet you'd want me to fuck you dumb too."
He tugs on his tie, letting it fall loose untied with ease as his coat soon follows, allowing you to gain an exposed view of his scarred body. There's nothing more you'd like than to run your hands through his chest but the handcuffs don't allow you to move your arms in the slightest. He's depriving you of one pleasure, and he relishes in that.
"My eyes are up here, sweetheart."
And god does he love it when you try to avert your gaze in embarrassment, knowing that your eyes had solely been focused on his body. He takes his hand and tilts your chin so you're forced to meet his gaze, and he delights in the way you shudder at his mere touch — he has you at the mercy of his fingertips, he'd bet.
You're being driven mad, something he enjoys — he's no sadist, but he definitely likes seeing you having to put up with the building pressure and urges he held back on this entire time. He decides to toy furthermore with you, as he slowly begins to unclasp the belt around his waist as his pants come off loose.
You know what the man wants.
It doesn't take much time for the rest to come off, and it's very clear to you where this is going. The back of your mind is screaming at you to run, to move, anything, but your body just lies and stays still without making a sound. His hips are pressed into yours, and he has zero hesitation as he begins to slide himself inside you, positioning himself as you whimper, tears beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes as you feel your walls stretching to accommodate to the sudden, large length that was pushed inside of you. It's too much for you, but he hushes you, caressing your face softly and wiping your tears.
"You're going to take all of it in for me, aren't you? Hah, so fuckin' tight..."
It hurts, and his gentle caresses are a sharp contrast to how he continuously pushes inside you until he finally reaches that place that would make you scream out in pleasure. And he knows it. He's impatient, and won't waste another second, and in just a few more seconds, he's already ramming his hips against yours, bulging cock sliding in and out at a pace you can no longer register.
"God — you're so good for me — no one else is allowed to see you like this, understood?"
The both of you are lost in lust, and your heart hammers in you whilst fear and pleasure courses right through your veins. You get the feeling he's not just pleasuring you — he's marking you, through and through, making sure that by the time you're walking out, people will only perceive his scent on you wherever you go. He wants you and you alone.
Anyone who wishes to debate his posture is more than welcome to have a word with him in the ring.
You're barely able to choke out his name as he fucks you senseless, giving you no space to plead or speak at all, for that matter. The only noise you get out are your helpless moans as you shudder from each thrust. He's feral, hungry and starved for your love, and he wants to consume every bit of it.
"Wriothesley — fuck — I-"
If it weren't for the fact he's fucking you to oblivion on his desk, he'd probably find it amusing how helpless you've become in the span of a few minutes. He loves it. Your eyes are half-lidded and brimming with tears, your moans resounding through the entirety of his office, to which thankfully, there is no one else within except the two of you. You might've not registered it but you're sure he's already torn through all the clothes covering your chest too, leaving you now entirely exposed and vulnerable to his touch.
You start to feel the building pressure you had before, and your breathing is labored, heavy. You don't think you can take this for much longer, your folds wet and walls tightening around his cock. You really weren't sure how in hell you were going to fit all of it in, but you seemed to be taking it rather well.
Your synchronized moans and his groans paired together combine, slowing into a perfectioned, rhythmic catharsis as you finally reach your climax, your fluids coating him and staining the firm material beneath you, to which you can't help but wonder how exactly does he plan to clean.
Yet as you finally release, he still doesn't stop. He's not stopping, not yet, not when he's finally got you fucked over and whimpering, helplessly begging him to cum inside of you. All of your senses and inhibitions have been tossed aside, leaving you a forlorn, flustered mess. He craves you, he might just devour you, he's unable to contain himself.
"You look so adorable when you beg, yeah? So wet and tight for me, 'M just gonna have to keep going for you..."
He is relentless. By the time he cums, you're already left breathless, voice broken and unable to say a thing other than a quiet whine. He's breathing heavily, letting his seed settle within you as his residual flows leak through your thighs, painting you as his own.
"Hah... that look in your eyes.. you wanna be rewarded, don't you? 'M just gonna have to stuff you full, hm?"
He nuzzles his head in your neck, letting the soft tufts of his hair caress your skin softly. He's still inside you, his cum still leaking through your thighs and out of your worn-out, throbbing pussy. Slowly, he slides out of you, earning a faint, muffled hum akin to that of a moan as you catch your breath. "Wrio..." you mumble out, and he presses a light kiss to your neck, right on a mark he left by earlier.
"'M gonna fill you up and make you cum 'till you can't think..." he murmured, one of his hands soothingly caressing your neck as he runs his hand through your back, his other, free hand reaching down towards your wet folds, his fingertips tracing lazy circles on your clit as he teases you gently, causing a few moans and whimpers to escape you. "'M gonna breed you.. make you all mine, darlin'."
He inserts two of his digits inside you fervently, fingering you, keeping you wet and tight as you squirm from his touch. He pulls in and out, unending and denying your pleads to stop. "P-please, Wrio — fuck — I can't-" He ignores your cries. Instead, he presses kisses across your jawline until meeting your lips, keeping you encased, trapped in a passionate kiss whilst being pleasured to no end.
"You can take it. Easy there, love."
You only respond with a whine as you feel yourself slowly reach your climax again, fluids seeping through your body and covering his digits, that slowly pull out with a wet sound. Your mouth is slightly hung open, your face with faint tints of red hidden by your disheveled hair, your body numb and almost limp.
The black-haired man simply held you tight, holding you close, never letting go, his voice whispering to you sweet nothings. His grip was tight, and unbeknownst to you, tears slowly smeared, falling across your face. You felt filthy. You felt violated. Anything but loved. And you knew more than ever, that from this day forth, you'd only ever be his.
His to love. His to hold.
For a night and forevermore, you were solely his to behold.
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A/N - I am utterly in love with this man. This prompt was also meant for yesterday bc Halloween n all, but I didn't make it- so- here you are- a little belated but still here! Same applies to the Imbibitor Lunae prompt that is soon to come! Love you all, remember to stay safe.
#genshin impact#writing#wriothesley#x reader#genshin impact x reader#my writing#yandere wriothesley#wriothesley x reader#wriothesley genshin impact#genshin#genshin wriothesley#smut#genshin x reader#genshin smut#genshin imagines#fontaine#yandere#yandere x reader#female reader#wriothesley x female reader#wriothesley smut#genshin impact smut#minors dni#cranberry.ichor#vanilla.cream
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Do you ever really think about what happened in The Resurrectionists?
Aziraphale spent that entire time trying to save Elspeth's soul from being damned to Hell.
Every questionable choice he made was done so because he was trying to help Elspeth and also trying to find new ways to decrease human suffering.
He was working really fucking hard to do his job, but he made mistakes along the way because he is constantly struggling with the knowledge that the rules become a lot more convoluted as life becomes more complicated.
Digging up bodies is wrong, but Elspeth was poor and acting in desperation to take care of herself and Wee Morag so they wouldn't have to continue living on the streets.
He is the one who encouraged her to dig up another body because he realized that Mister Dalrymple was trying to help teach those learning to become doctors so they could do better to decrease human suffering when it was their turn to help others.
He wasn't able to save Wee Morag after she was shot by a grave gun, and watched in dismay as Elspeth sold her body to Mister Dalrymple so she could get off the streets.
And when that didn't work the way she'd hoped, she decided that her life meant nothing anymore and decided she was better off dead.
Aziraphale had been spending that entire minisode trying to save Elspeth's soul from Hell, but he ultimately realizes that he made things worse even though he was trying so hard to do the right thing.
Heaven didn't care that he failed. Heaven has already said "we're the good guys, we're just not doing anything to stop the bad guys". Aziraphale was doing the job given to him by God. He made a mistake, but he thought he was doing the right thing because he cares about human souls. He still wants to protect humanity from Hell. That's literally his job.
Crowley saw someone digging up a body in the graveyard and immediately realized he didn't need to do anything.
Instead he watches.
He listens to Elspeth and finds it easier to sympathize with her plight because he's in the same boat in many ways. It doesn't matter what he does because he won't be able to climb his way out of Hell.
He listens to Aziraphale and he challenges the angel when he disagrees with some of the things he's saying.
He doesn't interfere with Elspeth or Aziraphale though.
The discussion that he and Aziraphale have with Mister Dalrymple teaches Crowley something just as much as it teaches Aziraphale.
Before he learns the reason that Mister Dalrymple cuts open dead bodies in the first place, he's cheering to the idea of more murder.
That tumor that Aziraphale hugs to his chest is just as much of a learning moment for Crowley. He hadn't considered why someone might have a good reason to cut up dead bodies, but Crowley and Aziraphale both love children and they both just learned that a child died with a tumor inside of him.
Crowley didn't realize anymore than Aziraphale did just how much danger Wee Morag and Elspeth were in from digging up bodies of rich people.
It was when Crowley saw that Elspeth was about to kill herself that he realized he could no longer sit back and do nothing.
As a demon, it should have been easier for Crowley to accept that Hell was winning another soul, but the truth is that the entire time Aziraphale was working so hard to save Elspeth's soul, Crowley was able to act as a spectator because she was already headed down the path towards Hell.
Crowley had just watched Aziraphale work so hard to save this human soul, this soul who had just lost the woman she loved who was wanting to end her own life so she could see Wee Morag again, and he realized he couldn't sit back and watch anymore. He knew Elspeth wouldn't see Wee Morag again if she killed herself because Hell cares just as little about how complicated human life is as Heaven does.
He used Aziraphale's money to bribe Elspeth into being properly good so she could go to Heaven. He saved her knowing that he was offering the win to Heaven just so she could see Wee Morag again.
It's important to remember that neither Heaven nor Hell give a single solitary fuck about humanity or the complications that arise as life becomes more problematic. Humanity exists within all shades of grey.
Heaven does nothing to stop Hell. Hell spends eternity torturing humans and other demons. Neither side is good. Neither side is ideal.
And in the end, Crowley did what he did because Aziraphale was doing the right thing by trying to save Elspeth's soul from eternal torment, something she doesn't deserve because she was simply trying to survive in a system that has always put poor people at a disadvantage. Aziraphale learned this too. He learned that there is no inherent virtue behind poverty.
To shades of grey.
#good omens#good omens meta#the resurrectionists#aziraphale#crowley#elspeth and wee morag#heaven and hell#shades of grey
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An analysis of Emperors Geta & Caracalla from “Gladiator II”
(*SPOILERS AHEAD!!*)
Hands down they were two of the most interesting characters from this movie and they deserved more screentime but thanks to the complete script and the actors' incredible performances we can gather a lot about their personality as individuals and dynamic as brothers.
Emperor Geta
The released script has confirmed that Geta was the first to be born and we had already kinda guessed it because of the way he behaved and how other characters used to address him for important matters.
He also had a more calculating and observant nature in comparison to his brother and he was certainly calmer. Nevertheless he was power hungry, slightly unhinged, hedonistic, selfish, naive, short-sighted and uncaring and blind about his people needs. The interesting thing is that he seemed genuinely hurt by Acacius' and Lucilla's betrayal which means that he genuinely wanted their respect and loyalty.
In the script there is a deleted scene where Geta and Caracalla asked from Lucilla to adopt them as her sons, which was a common practice back then to strengthen the bloodline. The Emperors knew that they had no right to the throne, so they made this offer to Lucilla, a daughter of a well-respected Caesar. It was a clear political move, especially from Geta's part (for Caracalla it's also something else which I will get into later).
Geta was a person that despite his cruelty he craved loyalty, admiration and respect. He wanted to be loved by his people but he didn't understand that he also had to take care of them. By mercilessly continuing his conquests he had deprived the people of food. Still he tried to gain that respect by controlling Lucilla just like he said in the script “He who controls the lady of Rome controls the people”.
When the riots began after Acacius' death, Geta seemed to have reached a point of desperation and was even seen hiding his face on a curtain and crying.
His relationship with his brother was both complex and immensely interesting. In a deleted scene they can be seen bickering and arguing and it is explicitly said that they were like this every day. But there was also love from both ends and Geta seemed to genuinely worry about his brother's health. When they were children Geta used his own body as a shield to protect Caracalla from their father's blows which clearly suggests that they had an abusive childhood and ever since then he had always protected him. It's also most certain that he didn't want Caracalla's health problems to become known in the empire and when Acacius' betrayal was revealed Geta was the one that calmed Caracalla's outburst which can also mean that this wasn't his first time restraining him. It was also interesting that when Geta lashed out at Caracalla and threw wine at his brother's face he seemed to be regretful after the anger slowly left him.
All those arguments that happened every day never made Geta love his brother less and even voiced his great concern for him to Macrinus about how he gets worse every day. Caracalla could be even slowly dying from his various diseases and Geta felt helpless.
When Caracalla attacked him the script said that Geta wasn't entirely surprised because he had experienced these kind of moods before. Therefore it's not improbable for Caracalla to have physically attacked Geta in the past. Even at that moment the latter seemed to reach his brother and almost made him change his mind but Macrinus showed up and ended everything.
Geta was really having a huge burden on his shoulders: His responsibilities as a ruler which he proved unable to fulfill and his role as a big brother who had to protect and care for his little brother. A role which he also failed because he underestimated Caracalla's insecurities and put his trust on the wrong person.
Emperor Caracalla
Caracalla was the one that had completely lost his sanity thanks to his various illnesses. The script has confirmed that he suffered from syphilis and lead poisoning and that's a lethal combination. And yes, both diseases can affect the brain:
Caracalla was shown to be impulsive, unpredictable, short-tempered, bloodthirsty and was neither clever nor perceptive as shown when he displayed joy at Lucius for killing his champion after loudly refusing the Emperors' mercy (an outrageous act at the time) and his inability to understand Macrinus' schemes and lies.
He was naive and behaved in a childlike manner which was unbecoming of an Emperor. He was also very hedonistic and seemed more absorbed into enjoying the pleasures and luxuries of his position (sex, food, drink etc.). He, furthermore, appeared to be even more promiscuous than his brother having both male and female concubines around him. In a deleted scene he was seen going with his brother and their concubines to their bedrooms which means they fucked in the same room and shared their concubines. Caracalla invited even Macrinus to their bed to show them his “might”. Even Geta was like "bro chill".
I found his relationship with Lucilla interesting. Apparently he appeared to have a special interest for her:
Lucilla could know this since she tried to reason with him not to kill Acacius and when she was ready to be thrown into the arena herself, he was hesitant to do it and even asked Macrinus if this was necessary (If you ask me he was ready to hit that milf)
But that doesn't mean that he also didn't feel jealousy and anger for the love that the Roman people had for her. In his own words “We give them everything. What has she given them?”. Poor Caracalla didn't understand that his unpopularity came from the way his father took the throne while Lucilla was the daughter of a beloved Caesar. He certainly wasn't the brightest in the room since he failed to comprehend that his disinterest for the people made him unpopular thanks to his famous movie line “They can eat war!”.
His monkey, Dondus, was his comfort animal. He loved and cared for it. It was his companion and friend. It brought him joy and in return he spoiled it with food, clothes and even the seat of the First Consul. He was highly protective of it and, in a deleted scene, he even shouted at Geta for the latter's treatment of it.
But his relationship with his brother was the most engaging one. Apparently Caracalla was having delusions about Geta. He claimed that he tried to kill him by asphyxiating him in the womb with the umbilicus (something that is probably unlikely since it's impossible to remember something like this) and that he always lies to him. It's more possible that the diseases had heavily affected his brain and made him forget or alter things. The script even calls it "dementia" which is something really sad to have at such a young age.
Caracalla felt inferior to his brother and he never had anything that was completely his. He suffered from insecurities and when he presented himself as Emperor to the Senate he said: “Now I am the only one. I was the true us, and he was the false me. We were always "we", all our lives, but now I am only I, me, alone”. (Which is a badass line and we got robbed but that's a talk for another day)
When he cut his brother's hand and smiled I believe he did as if to say "look he bleeds" and probably because he felt relief in finally hurting him the way his brother "hurt" him all that time. But in the end he couldn't do it. He couldn't kill his brother and showed not only hesitation but also got teary-eyed by Geta's words. If Macrinus wasn't there to help, Geta would be able to reason with him.
But it's kind of peculiar how he claimed that “My hand held the blade, but my Father's hand guided mine. I was the puppet, dancing on his string” (rip to another amazing quote) even though their father was abusive. We can only blame this to his insanity.
Sadly, Caracalla seemed to worsen mentally after his brother's death as the script also said.
He couldn't even remember what he had done.
And something else which also points to his insecurity is the throne which he picked to sit on the final game:
In his final moments he felt the same way Geta did: helpless and afraid.
Died alone on his brother's throne.
(special shoutout to Joseph Quinn and Fred Hechinger. They were given so little screentime and yet they delivered thanks to their incredible work 🛐)
#geta#caracalla#emperor caracalla#emperor geta#gladiator ii#gladiator 2#meta#analysis#gladiator 2 spoilers#their story in the movie was mainly a tragic one#they were incapable of ruling and they should have never become Emperors in the first place but their bond and them as individuals were#one of the main standouts of this film#they deserve their own spin off show#this analysis is my personal opinion#please be respectful#lucilla#general acacius
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