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prince-rowan-of-the-forest · 7 months ago

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And finally (at least for now) a series I'm really proud of!! @edupunkn00b

Faeries In The Forest

Virgil promises Roman a day where they'll do whatever he wants, even if that means spending the day hiking in the forest.

When the pair stray from the path and find themselves lost, Virgil worries that it might be the end- that is until they meet a seemingly friendly fae who promises to lead them back to the path free of charge...

----

| AO3 | Second Part |

Warnings: Panic attacks, minor references to manipulation and enslavement but nothing actually happens.

Pairings: pre-established Prinxity, implied anaroceit (as a note nothing is actually said straight up, but these are the intended ships)

Word Count: 6971

Notes: I really want to write more of this so expect a part two at... some point I'm not very good at writing fast... considering I've written like four fics in this fandom now I'm wondering if I should start a masterlist... Anyways enjoy!

They were everywhere. That’s what Virgil had always been told, they lurked in the trees and in the water, they waited on street corners and outside stores. They walked dirt paths and cobbled streets, everywhere you look they could be waiting.

Be careful, they said, to not give your name to strangers no matter how trustworthy they may seem, no matter what they offer you in return. Names hold power. Don't eat their food or step into their circles either, because it's all an elaborate trap.

There were many things to remember about the fae, all of which Virgil had had drilled into his head from the moment he was born, from his parents, his teachers, the shopkeeper, even the barista in the coffee shop had gone on a tangent when he was fourteen, while he was making his coffee.

Of course, there was a reason for these stories, rumours and such, people going missing, Hell, a girl in his sixth grade class- Marie- had disappeared one day, and since then he had listened a little more carefully when the adults told their stories. He had grown up in a small town in the middle of nowhere right on the border of a thick forest from which people rarely came back, and often they came back changed.

To say the least, Virgil had been overjoyed to leave that town behind, having moved to the city to attend university. He shared an apartment with another student who he’d met right at the beginning of the semester- not exactly the scenario he had been hoping for, but he’d realised pretty fast that he didn’t have the money for rent, so having Roman move in with him was the only choice he had really.

Speaking of Roman, Virgil had been wary of him for a long while after they’d moved in together. Roman had been confused when Virgil refused to give Roman his name, and didn’t understand the charms Virgil had up around the house. Even now that he was away from his hometown, Virgil wasn’t about to be lulled into a false security just because it was a city. Eventually, though a lot of persistence from Roman, Virgil had opened up to him, told him his name, and luckily nothing had come of it.

In a place like this, a busy city where you could see a hundred people in just one day, a regular person might forget about the possibility of the fair folk. There was no forest on your doorstep, just a park and trees planted on the pavement at equal intervals. If you asked, most people around here would say that there was no way that fae existed, people would say that they were just a scary bedtime story to keep children in line, or even if they were superstitious, they might say that they were safe here, further away from nature. But Virgil knew better. Fae were everywhere.

—-

“Hey Virge!” Roman yelled, running down the hallway towards him, waving a paper around dramatically, “I got it!”

“Princey,” Virgil nodded his head with a huff, turning and starting to walk and trusting Roman to catch up and start walking at his side, “You did?”

“Yes!” Roman cried, “Oh I’m so excited! I got the part I wanted!”

“Well done, can we go home now?” Virgil asked with a huff, he had been waiting out in the hall of the theatre- he’d promised to wait to support his friend- and he was starting to get paranoid. He didn’t like being out in public for so long, he couldn’t help it- and he was almost out of spoons for the day.

“Oh come on hot topic! We should celebrate!” Roman grinned, though his smile fell when he saw Virgil’s face.

“I’m sorry Princey,” Virgil said as they left the theatre, heading towards the bus stop, “I think I'm all out of spoons, but uh- I have a free day tomorrow… I know you do too, we could- I mean- eugh words,”

“Take your time,” Roman said as they sat down to wait for their bus, he took a moment to glare at the timetable, "We certainly have time to spare,"

“Just- Whatever you want to do, we’ll do it tomorrow, ok?” Virgil promised, “And hey, it’s your birthday next week, consider this a celebration for that too, so um, I’ll go along with whatever you want to do tomorrow,”

“For the whole day?” Roman asked, looking hopeful, Virgil understood at least a little, he usually didn’t like being out of the house longer than required for his lectures or his job, so of course Roman was interested, “Even… if it involves the forest?”

Virgil considered backing out then and there, but he'd promised, and he knew that Roman had wanted to go hiking in the woods an hour from town for years, though he'd never wanted to go alone. Virgil hated lthe idea of going into the forest, but… maybe it wouldn't be so bad with Roman, and they'd take precautions, it… should be ok.

"It's alright if not," Roman said, though he sounded slightly disheartened, "I know you hate the idea of going off on a forest adventure - I can choose something else-"

"No," Virgil interrupted, "No we- I said whatever you want, so the forest it is,"

"Yay!" Roman said, happily clapping his hands, "I'll make sure everything is perfect for you ok? We'll bring a picnic and- oh you make me a list of everything we can bring that'll help you feel safer and we'll bring that too- oh and-*

"Princey," Virgil patted Roman on the arm, gently pulling him from his ramble, "We can get everything together once we get back home,"

"Right, right! You're right," Roman nodded, though he was obviously trying to contain his excitement- Virgil could see it in the way his leg bounced and his fingers tapped out a rhythm on his thigh. He hoped he was making the right decision.

As they were waiting for the bus in comfortable silence, a stranger wearing a hat that shadowed their eyes joined them on the bus stop, immediately Virgil felt the wave of suspicion that always came from being near strangers. He tried not to look creepy as he glanced at the guy every now and then, turning one of his protection charms over and over in his pocket as they waited.

"There's the bus!" Roman announced way too loudly, making Virgil jump before he stood up. Sure enough their bus could be seen from down the road.

The stranger didn't get on the bus after them, and Virgil tried to push them out of his mind as he and Roman spent the evening preparing for their trip tomorrow.

—-

"Here we are!" Roman grinned as the forest finally came into view, they'd already been walking for half an hour since the last spot where the taxi was willing to drop them off, Virgil brought a hand to fiddle with the pendant around his neck as they approached the tree line.

"We're finally here! I'm so excited, aren't you excited V?" Roman said, with the level of energy that Virgil could only compare to one of those puppies that never stops going.

"Woah, you're going to tire yourself out before we even reach the trees," Virgil huffed, walking with his hands out of his hoodie pockets for once, though he had a fidget cube in hand, one Roman had handed to him as they left this morning.

"Oh shove it Robert Downer Jr," Roman rolled his eyes, but did slow down a little.

"... alright," Virgil said with a deep breath, "Here we go, as long as we stick to the path… everything should be fine."

They managed to stick to the path for all of twenty six minutes before- upon hearing the sound of a stream nearby, Roman had immediately veered off the path with a call to Virgil that he was going to find it and of course Virgil had gone after him. For some odd reason, he'd rather be lost and screwed over with Roman than alone on the path in the woods.

When they'd turned back from the river to find the path again, it was as if they were in a completely different part of the woods, no path to be found.

"I told you!" Virgil said pacing as he tried to stave off the impending panic attack the only way he knew how, by being angry, "I told you not to leave the path and what do you do! You leave the goddamn path! Now look at where that got us-"

"V, I-" Roman started, only to be cut off by Virgil's rambling.

"And now we're lost somewhere and I don't know how to get out and we're in the woods and- and- anything could happen and I can't believe I agreed to this! I should've said no! I knew this would go wrong I knew-"

"V- I need you to breathe," Roman instructed, trying to keep his voice soft, he had taken hold of Virgil's wrists without his notice, "Just take a deep breath,"

Virgil did as instructed, before Roman led him over to their bags and handed him a biscuit. Virgil nibbled it gratefully.

"We still have the map and the compass," Roman said, "I've already checked my phone and there's no signal, but the compass will work, and hey, at least we have each other, right?"

"Yeah- yeah you're right," Virgil said, taking a deep breath, "Sorry for snapping at you,"

"I get it," Roman waved him off, before unfolding the map, Virgil peered over his shoulder, "Well uh- here's the river but… it says the path should be right here…"

"Well, the river comes out of the forest here," Virgil pointed to the map, "so if we just keep following the river southeast we should reach the edge of the forest no matter where we are right now,"

“Ok, ok good, right,” Roman nodded, grabbing their compass, “I… I’m really glad you’re here, V,”

“Huh?”

“Yeah uh- I think I’d be screwed if this happened to me alone,” Roman said quietly, Virgil shrugged.

“Me too, so- we’ll call it even I guess,” Virgil smiled, “Which way?”

“The uh… the compass is going haywire…” Roman said, eyes going wide as he watched the compass needle spin uselessly round and round and round…

“Perfect,” Virgil said sarcastically, “So we’re stuck with no clue which way to go?”

“Seems like it,” Roman shrugged.

And not only that, but it was just about noon, so they couldn’t even use the sun.

“So I guess we just…” Roman glanced around, “Well choices are to stay here or start walking, so… which should we do?”

“Well- ok- it’s 50/50, so… i guess we’ll start walking, I don’t want to be here when it gets dark,”

Roman visibly shivered, “Same, lets go, we can eat on the way,”

—

“Princey!” Virgil cried, grabbing the back of Roman’s jacket and yanking him back hard enough that he toppled over onto the grass, Roman fell on top of him.

“V! What the heck was that for?” Roman cried, Virgil took a couple of deep breaths to steady himself before standing up and pointing at something in their path.

“Look, mushrooms,” Virgil said, leaning forward to see better, “It’s a faerie circle,”

“You pulled me over because of a couple of mushrooms?” Roman asked, standing up and dusting himself off.

“It’s not just a couple of mushrooms, princey!” Virgil hissed, “If you step inside the faerie who owns the circle could trap you forever, idiot,”

“Oh jeez, well that doesn’t sound too great,” Roman huffed, “Thanks then, I guess,”

“You’re welcome,” Virgil huffed, looking at the circle thoughtfully, “How are we going to get around it?”

“Uh- we could just go around the edge?” Roman said, phrased as a question, “It’s a pretty big circle though,”

“Yeah… I don’t want to lose sight of the river…”

“That does sound bad,” Roman nodded, “And the river is pretty deep here too so we couldn’t walk through the water…”

“I don’t know if we could climb the tree and get over it- I’m not sure if it works like that…”

“You could always just go through,” Said a new voice, making Virgil jump so much he crashed into Roman’s side, thankfully Roman was able to catch him so they didn’t fall again as they both turned to face the stranger. Virgil stared at them, eyes wide.

The stranger wore a bowler hat, which made them look incredibly fancy. Their face was angular, all sharp like it had been chiselled from stone. They had pointed ears, chestnut brown hair that fell to their waist, held back and intertwined with delicate looking yellow flowers. His eyes were stunning, one a deep shifting turquoise that reminded Virgil of the ocean and the other a piercing yellow, with a slit pupil like the snake. Not even to mention the beautiful golden scales that covered half of his face, this stranger was very obviously fae, and if Virgil took a guess he’d say that the circle they stood next to belonged to this fae in particular. He had to elbow Roman to stop him from gawking after he’d managed to shake himself out of the same daze.

“Um, hello,” Virgil said, trying to seem less awkward than he felt, the faerie raised an eyebrow and smirked, “We’re just- passing through, we won’t be here for long if- uh- if we disturbed you or anything,”

“No bother, darling,” The faerie said with a grin, Virgil noticed fangs, “Really, I’m only curious what two lovely mortals are doing so close to my ring, say, might I have your names?”

“I’m R-” Roman started, before Virgil turned and slapped a hand decidedly over his mouth.

“You can call me V,” Virgil said, “And you can call him Prince, excuse my abrupt actions, he can act an idiot sometimes,”

“You are a smart one, V,” The fae said, taking a step forwards, “You two can call me Deceit,”

Roman licked his hand and Virgil couldn't help but yell.

“Ew prince what the hell!” Virgil yelled, snatching his hand back and wiping it on his shirt, Deceit just raised an eyebrow, Virgil mentally thanked whatever deity was out there that the fae seemed amused rather than offended, “That’s gross, you’re gross,”

“You weren’t letting me speak,” Roman said with a pout, “Hi Deceit, Isn’t that a kinda ironic name?”

Virgil facepalmed.

“How so?” Deceit asked, both eyebrows raised now, Virgil thought he may as well just ask the guy to kill them now.

“Well… fae can’t lie, right? At least V says so, and your name’s Deceit- which is all about lying!” Roman said, pointing as if his statement was an accusation.

“There are many ways to deceive that don’t involve outright lies. darling,” Deceit smirked, stepping even closer, he was close enough to touch now and he did just that, reaching forwards and trailing a finger down the bridge of Roman’s nose, Virgil’s heart sank as Roman’s face went red.

“Now is not the time for this, your royal gayness,” Virgil huffed, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, as if you’re any better, sweetheart,” Deceit turned to him with a coy smirk playing on his lips, the fae’s fingers traced a path across his cheeks, and Virgil felt his cheeks heat up no matter how hard he tried to fight it, Deceit was… really pretty, and way too good at flirting.

“Look um- we just got lost, and we’re trying to figure our way out of the woods by following the river, if we could continue on our way…” Virgil said slowly, trying to pick out words that hopefully wouldn’t offend the faerie, that was the last thing he could possibly want from this. Deceit almost looked disappointed.

“Oh but I was having such fun,” Deceit sighed, “Won’t you two let me accompany you, at least? So you don’t have any run-ins with… less amicable fae? I can guarantee you safe passage through the forest, if you want it,”

“And what exactly would that cost us?” Virgil asked, “Not to sound suspicious but… nothing ever comes for free with the fae,”

“You’re smart to be cautious, little one,” Deceit whispered, walking around them and dragging a hand across Virgil’s shoulders- and then Roman’s as he went.

“I don’t know what you’re so suspicious about V, he seems very nice and he’s offering to lead us through the woods!” Roman smiled, leaning into where Deceit was now cupping his cheek with a delicate hand. Virgil quickly grabbed Roman’s hand and tugged it gently.

“You know why, Princey, just because you’re gay and he’s cute doesn’t mean he’s trustworthy,” Virgil huffed.

“Awe you think I’m cute,” Deceit smirked at him, Virgil huffed, “So how about your journey, then?”

“You never answered my question,” Virgil said, “What will it cost us?”

“You really think so low of me, my darlings? I’m sure your company will be payment enough,”

“Yeah right so you’ll take us back to the city in exchange for what? Us keeping you company until we get there?” Virgil asked, “What’s the catch,”

“No catch, promise,” Deceit said, taking one of Virgil’s hands and one of Roman’s, smiling as he gently but insistently tugged them around the faerie circle. Virgil huffed, but let himself be gently pulled along. The fae had promised, which definitely meant something. But why would he promise there would be no catch? Weren’t fae supposed to be tricksters? Weren’t they supposed to make deals and promises and snatch mortals and such? Why was this faerie being so… generous, it didn’t make any sense.

At least Roman was enjoying himself. He had decidedly kept hold of Deceit’s hand after he had let go of Virgil’s, and Roman was happily chatting away about theatre and art and whatever on earth he could find to talk about. Thankfully Deceit seemed interested in entertaining him, or at least the way he continued to hold his hand and bump against his side every so often made it seem so. Virgil was happy enough to trail along behind them, listening in to make sure Roman didn’t say anything too stupid.

Until apparently that wasn’t enough for Deceit.

“V, darling, why don’t you join us instead of trailing behind like a shadow, hm?” Deceit called, looking over his shoulder, “I’m sure you have some interesting stories to tell too.”

“Oh no, not really, I’m just your boring old emo who works at a coffee shop and otherwise never leaves his house,” Virgil shrugged, though he did jog forwards so he was just shadowing Deceit, rather than walking a few paces behind, he wasn’t going to argue with a faerie.

“Well that can’t be right,” Deceit shook his head firmly, “The way you dress seems to tell a story all on it’s own, surely you have something worth sharing,”

“No I… I really don’t,” Virgil said almost sadly, he shook his head, “Princey is much more interesting than I am, why don’t you um- why don’t you keep listening to his stories?”

Deceit stopped walking and Virgil did too, immediately worried he’d offended the faerie, but Deceit just cupped his face gently, leaning close enough that Virgil could feel warm breath fanning on his cheeks.

“You say you’re so uninteresting,” Deceit said softly, “But everyone has a story to tell, even if you believe you don’t… there’s always something,”

“I’m not sure anything I have to say would interest someone like you,” Virgil said quietly, looking away.

“Oh be quiet, V, he was interested in hearing me ramble about my musical theatre roles! No-one wants to hear me ramble about musical theatre!” Roman said, patting Virgil on the arm, “Talk about your music!”

“Music?” Deceit asked, full of curiosity, he turned to keep walking, but kept hold of one of Virgil’s hands this time, “Tell me,”

"Well I-" Virgil huffed, "I don't really like talking about it, but I produce music I guess, though I'm self published so it's not going so far at the moment…"

"You should hear some of the music he's made," Roman said with a grin, "It's amazing,'

"I would love to hear some of it, darling," Deceit smiled, linking their fingers more firmly together, Virgil blushed.

"Well um- I don't exactly have my guitar with me, so…" Virgil looked away.

"A shame, surely," Deceit sighed, "I'm certain you would have a lovely voice,"

"Like an angel," Roman said almost dreamily, "But like, a dark and stormy one,"

"Shut it, princey," Virgil muttered.

"No, no let him speak, I would like to hear you sing," Deceit said, brushing a hand through Virgil's hair. He jumped, because Deceit was still holding both Roman and Virgil's hands- he wasn't prepared for the faerie to have a third hand.

Virgil shook his head to clear his thoughts, embarrassed about the idea of Deceit hearing him sing, the Fae were known to have beautiful voices after all and he was sure he'd never compare, "I um- I'd rather not… if that's ok…"

"Later, then," Deceit said surely, as if there would definitely be a later.

"Aren't you leaving once we get back to the city?" Virgil asked, confused, because as far as he was concerned, they'd never see this faerie again after he left.

"Did I say that?" Deceit said mock thoughtfully, "You may have to remind me, I seem to have forgotten,"

Virgil spluttered for a second before taking a breath and trying to string the correct words into the right order, "You promised no catches,'

"I wouldn't say him accompanying us home is really a catch," Roman said with a smile and a shrug, well, at least Virgil knew he wouldn't be getting any help from his roommate any time soon. Deceit had him wrapped around his finger.

"I'd just like to spend a little more time with you both," Deceit said, ruffling Virgil's hair, "You're both obscenely adorable, and very very interesting,"

—-

"Could we stop for a break? We've been walking for what feels like hours, " Roman practically whined, by the looks of the sky, they really had been walking for a long time, the first streaks of the pink sunset were beginning to light up the sky. Virgil groaned.

"It's getting dark…" He said, wrapping his arms around himself. He didn't want to show weakness in front of Deceit, but he also really didn't want to be trapped in the forest at night.

"Maybe we should stop for the night? Set up some kind of camp?" Roman asked awkwardly, they hadn't brought any camping equipment with them, and all they had for a blanket was the picnic rug they'd packed.

"You needn't be worried," Deceit told them, coming to a stop in a small clearing, "You should be safe from anything else roaming the forest with me here,"

"...right?" Virgil nodded, not trusting the uncertainty that the 'should' left them with, "So do we stop or keep going?"

"It would be unwise to travel at night," Deceit told them, "We will stop,"

Virgil nodded, hunching his shoulders and glancing around at the trees, they suddenly looked a lot more sinister, As Roman and Deceit started to bustle around the clearing, Roman looking to see what they had left over from lunch- thank goodness Virgil had asked to bring some extra food- and Deceit using some sort of magic to make the clearing nicer. As time passed Virgil didn't move, he simply became more and more uneasy.

"Hey V?" Roman called from across the clearing, Virgil's head snapped up with a short breath, his eyes darted around again, when had it gotten so dark? And who had built the campfire? Why was it so cold…? "Are you ok there buddy?"

Virgil tried to breathe, but he looked around at the trees again and another wave of panic hit him, it was getting so dark now, it would be easy for something to reach out from the shadows and grab him, drag him off with a hand over his mouth so that he couldn't scream, they probably wouldn't even notice.

"I'm gonna hug you, ok?" Roman asked, a lot closer now, Virgil nodded and felt Roman's arms wrap themselves around him, he buried his nose in Roman's shoulder, drawing comfort from the only familiar thing around. He and Roman had done this so many times before, Roman hugging him while he panicked, it helped, it really did. But here, Virgil still felt vulnerable, with the forest at his back.

“What’s going on here?” Virgil heard Deceit’s voice from somewhere to their right, Virgil shifted, worried, but his tone sounded concerned, rather than accusatory.

“V is panicking,” Roman said, squeezing Virgil a little tighter when he tensed slightly, “He doesn’t like forests, or the dark, all that much,”

“I see, does this-” Virgil could assume he gestured to them in the pause, “-Help?”

“Usually yeah, V?” Roman asked, Virgil just shook his head into Roman’s shoulder, “Not this time though, somethings still stressing him out…”

Deceit hummed thoughtfully, before speaking softer than Virgil had heard all afternoon, “May I hold you as well?”

Virgil hesitated, but slowly nodded. After a moment, he felt a presence at his back that made him flinch, something was coming for him- he knew it!

“It’s alright sweetheart,” Oh, it was Deceit, Virgil suddenly felt really stupid, “You’re safe, we’ve got you,”

Another pair of arms wrapped around him, this time from behind, he felt Deceit’s nose nestle in his hair, Virgil repressed a shiver, he felt Deceit smile.

“Any better?” Roman asked, chin on Virgil’s shoulder.

“A little,” Virgil whispered, tightening his arms around Roman, Deceit hummed, and another pair of arms wrapped themselves around his middle.

“That's good,” Deceit practically purred, nuzzling his hair, Virgil sighed, leaning more heavily on Roman.

“Woah,” Roman huffed at the added weight, “I might be strong, but I can’t hold up both of you,”

“It may be best if we sit down, that is if you want to continue in this way,” Deceit said, pressing a kiss to the top of Virgil’s head, this time he did shiver.

“Well I- I guess it is cold out, so- that might not be so bad…” Virgil muttered.

“Admit it, Hot Topic, you’re just as gay as I am,” Roman said with a grin, Deceit chuckled.

“Come, let us sit by the fire,” Deceit said, drawing away just to take Virgil’s hand, gently pulling him, and thus Roman, towards the fire pit that had been set up, he lead them to a surprisingly comfortable bed of moss that Virgil was certain hadn’t been there when they arrived at the clearing. When had that gotten there?

“It’s so cold,” Virgil muttered, pulling his hoodie jacket closer around himself, scuffing his foot and hesitating to sit down, “We should light the fire…”

“How do you light a fire?” Roman asked, glancing around, “I’ve never been camping before,”

“I didn’t pack a lighter or matches or anything,” Virgil said sadly, scuffing his foot, turning back to the fire only to find it lit and burning away happily, Virgil glanced at Deceit, who just smirked at him.

“I’m summer,” Deceit said. By way of explanation, Roman looked confused, but ultimately shrugged and sat down on the moss.

“That would explain why you’re so warm,” Virgil said quietly, sitting down as well, Deceit grinned.

“If I’m so warm, and you’re cold, why aren’t you over here?” Deceit smirked at him, Virgil sighed, pulling his knees to his chest.

“You’re deceitful charming tricks won’t work on me,” Virgil muttered, looking away.

“I’m not trying to trick you, sweetheart,” Deceit said softly.

“He has trust issues,” Roman stage whispered, Virgil glared past Deceit at him, before shuffling a little closer to the fire and staring into its centre, the crackling sticks, Roman wasn’t going to stop spilling his secrets to the faerie, so he may as well not bother. Roman had never been good at keeping secrets, so really it had only been a matter of time.

“He was kinda like this when we first met too,” Roman explained with wide gestures, “He wouldn’t tell me his name for the first three months we were living together, even though I did everything he asked to prove I wasn’t a faerie the first week we met, so um, I can imagine he’d have more issues with you- because- you are- you know,”

“An actual faerie, yes,” Deceit nodded, “i am aware,”

“Sorry,” Roman said with a cringe, “V’s just… I’m not sure why but he struggles to open up to people,”

“It is understandable,” Deceit said, before gesturing to himself, “Considering,”

“What’s so wrong with fae anyway? You’ve been really nice to us this whole time,” Roman asked, shuffling a little closer to Deceit and looking at him as if to ask if it was alright, Deceit smiled softly at him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“I am not your average faerie,” Deceit hummed, trailing a pattern across Roman’s shoulder with his gloved fingers, Virgil watched the movement from the corner of his eyes, covered by his hair, “V is right to be wary of us, most would have tried harder to take your names or lure you into their circles, or make a deal and trick you, there are many things I could have done that I didn't, that many others would have,"

"So why didn't you?" Virgil asked bitterly, "What's so different about you?"

“I… don’t really know,” Deceit shrugged, “I suppose I was simply… intrigued by you both, and it does ring true that I have been lacking in adequate company as of late so… it seems that perhaps fate brought the two of you to my circle, I wasn’t about to waste that, now was I?”

Virgil huffed, he wasn’t sure what to do with that answer, he shivered again, even with the warmth of the fire close by, the forest was still all around him, no shelter, no safety, no security…

“I’m not gonna be able to sleep,” Virgil said instead of answering.

“Are you not tired?” Deceit asked, “You look exhausted,”

“Thanks,” Virgil glared, “I’m too anxious to sleep, my brain won’t let me switch off, I’m too jumpy, too vigilant, do you need more reasons?”

“I didn’t think humans were supposed to be this afraid all the time,” Deceit said quietly, Roman shifted.

“They’re not,” He said almost sadly, Virgil curled further into himself.

“I get it, ok,” Virgil snapped, surprising even himself, his anger was more directed at Roman than Deceit, of course, Roman was the only one who was talking about it really, “I know it’s weird that I do my courses online because I hate leaving the house, I know it’s weird that I refuse to wear a nametag at work, I know it’s weird that I barely talk when we’re around other people, I know I don’t like to talk about myself or start conversations, I get that it’s not normal, I know being so anxious about everything isn’t normal just- leave me alone,”

Virgil turned around so his back was facing them, he wasn’t about to cry- he wasn’t. Where the hell had that outburst come from?

To be honest, he knew it really had been a long time coming. Roman tried so hard to make sure he was comfortable, but he never really understood, he didn’t get why Virgil wouldn’t want to go to the campus or meet his friends, he often put pressure on Virgil to come and watch his shows or go to some party- he didn’t understand and he never would, because Virgil was different. At least in the little town he grew up in his superstition wasn’t questioned, now, living in the city, it seemed like everything about him was out of place.

“Would it make you more comfortable,” Virgil choked on a sharp breath as he heard Deceit’s voice right next to his ear, he didn’t lift his head from his knees- he wouldn’t let the faerie see him crying, Roman was one thing, Deceit was a whole other, “If we continued travelling through the night? We’re close enough now that we’d reach the border in just a few hours,”

“You- you said it was more dangerous,” Virgil forced out, “Don’t- don’t want to put Princey in danger…”

“Hm,” Deceit said, the grass crunched next to him and a warm hand was pressed to his back, between his shoulder blades, despite the spike of fear he first felt, he found the hand rather comforting, grounding, “I possess the means to protect you both from anything we might come across,”

“I-” Virgil said, before trying to take a deep breath- it stuttered on the way in, “We need to- to rest…”

“So you’d be more comfortable staying here?” Deceit asked.

“Think so…” Virgil nodded, “We have- we have light here,”

“Alright then, we’ll stay,” Deceit nodded, “Would it help settle your nerves if I kept watch while you and your prince attempted to sleep?”

Despite the situation, Virgil found himself blushing furiously, “He’s not- he’s not my prince! He- I- We-”

“No need to get so flustered, darling, I’m only teasing,” Deceit said, smirk carrying through his voice, “My question?”

“You’re- oh, uh… not really,” Virgil admitted quietly, “I still don’t trust you not to stab me while we sleep,”

“Hm, I plan to keep watch regardless, so, in that case, would you like to join me in watching over your… friend?”

“Yeah I- I guess that works,” Virgil nodded, finally lifting his head up and hastily wiping the tears from his cheeks, Deceit didn’t comment and Virgil was… really glad about that.

Roman fell asleep with his head in Deceit’s lap, with the faerie running fingers through his hair not even ten minutes later. Virgil still sat a little ways away, knees still tucked to his chest, but he was looking out into the forest now, making sure nothing was going to come for them.

“Is he always this- touchy?” Deceit asked, voice quiet even though it sounded loud in the surrounding silence.

“I’m glad to have a break,” Virgil answered with a huff, Deceit raised an eyebrow, “Yes, he’s always like that,”

“And you?” Deceit asked.

“Me?”

“Yes,” Deceit nodded, looking over at Virgil, his scales glinted in the light of the fire, and Virgil was captivated for a moment, “How do you feel about touch?”

“I uh- well I guess I’m more reserved than Princey, uh- I don’t really like being touched by people I don’t trust, especially strangers,” Virgil said with a shrug.

“But you allowed me to help when you were overwhelmed earlier,” Deceit pointed out, “And didn’t seem bothered by my touch otherwise, yet you continue to say that you don’t trust me?”

Virgil realised he’d been backed into a corner, albeit what seemed to be a padded fluffy one by someone who really didn’t seem to want to hurt him.

“I just-” Virgil said, before sighing, “I don’t trust anyone, really,”

“I will not harm you,” Deceit said, meeting his eyes, “And I will do my best not to let anything else do so either,”

“That… helps, a little,” Virgil whispered, “Fae can’t lie,”

“Does knowing that help?” Deceit asked, twisting Roman’s hair into a braid as he spoke, almost as though he didn’t realise he was doing it.

“Yeah,” Virgil nodded, “When you say definite statements like that, at least.”

“I shall aspire to do so more, then,” Deceit smiled at him and goddamn it Virgil was so gay- so gay, “Would you like to come over here? I swear not to hurt you.”

Virgil hesitated, but eventually gave in- he really wanted to hug the faerie, even if he wouldn’t admit it. He shuffled closer and Deceit wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Virgil sighed happily and dropped his head onto Deceit’s shoulder- he was so warm- he felt the faerie chuckle more than heard it.

“How many hands do you have,” Virgil questioned quietly as a third hand brushed through his hair in a way that was so comforting.

“Six,” Deceit said with a quiet laugh, “i’m surprised you didn’t ask sooner,”

“Didn’t wanna offend,” Virgil murmured as the hand around his shoulders squeezed him a little tighter, he felt another hand around his waist, settling on his hip.

Deceit hummed, “Just relax little one, I’ll keep you safe.”

Despite his previous hesitations, Virgil found it easier to relax now, he was surprised to find that he really did feel safe. After barely any time at all, he fell asleep.

—-

Virgil awoke with a yelp to the sound of a bird cawing way too close by to be a pigeon outside of his window. He heard a sharp hiss before the bird screeched and seemingly flew away.

“What the fuck,” Virgil muttered, blinking his eyes open only to find he was looking at the morning sky, the sunrise making the clouds pink and basking just the tops of the trees in a warm light. The events of yesterday came back to him in an instant and Virgil groaned, flopping back onto the cool grass, he was going to miss his lecture this morning.

“Stupid creature,” A voice hissed from somewhere to his right, literally, it sounded almost like a snake- if a snake could talk, he heard the bird caw again, further away this time “You woke him up, you fiend, yes get out of here, I don’t want to see you again until you think about what you’ve done,”

“Shut up,” Virgil slurred rolling over, “Wanna go back to sleep,”

“I brought you breakfast,” The voice- Virgil placed it as Deceit’s, it certainly wasn’t Roman’s, “If you want it,”

“Not eating faery food,” Virgil said tiredly.

“Told you,” Roman said from somewhere across the clearing, “He won’t eat it,”

“V, you’re going to be walking for a few hours and you havent eaten anything substantial since before you arrived at my circle yesterday,” Deceit reasoned, “This food was gathered from the forest, it does not share the properties of food from faerie,”

Virgil groaned and pushed himself up, rubbing his sleeve across his eyes to try and wake himself up a little, he’d have to go without coffee today, “What have you got?”

“Berries, mainly,” Deceit answered, “And a few apples,”

“Gimme the apples,” Virgil said, holding out a hand, an apple was tossed to him and he inspected it carefully before taking a bite. Thankfully it was a good apple, he really was hungry. Roman spluttered.

“Woah ok so what did I miss, what happened while I was asleep?” Roman asked, sounding astounded, “Cursed? A spell? Bribery?”

“I have done nothing to V,” Deceit answered, “I assure you, nothing bad has happened without your knowledge,”

“Yeah Princey, nothing happened,” Virgil said, standing up and brushing himself off as he took another bite out of the apple, “So uh- which way do we need to head?”

“Southeast,” Deceit said, when they both stared at him confused, he pointed off into the forest, “That way,”

“Excellent!” Roman grinned, before starting off in that direction with all the bravado of a real life fantasy prince who’d had four doses of coffee. Virgil sighed, stretching with a yawn.

“Is he always that enthusiastic in the mornings?” Deceit asked, raising an eyebrow as Virgil stood up, he shrugged with a tired grunt.

“Somehow,” Virgil nodded, before trailing off after Roman, pulling up his hood and hunching his shoulders as he marched off after his more normal companion, somehow Deceit managed to catch up to walk between them. Well, at least he knew that the faerie was still coming with them.

—-

It really did only take a few hours of walking before the trio arrived at the edge of the forest, right at the point Virgil and Roman had entered around the same time just the day before.

As they approached the treeline, Deceit stopped, looking back at the forest, Roman caught on quickly, since he had been holding Deceit’s hand again, it took Virgil a second later to notice, when he almost crashed into Roman.

“What’s going on?” Virgil asked, eyes darting around, suddenly more aware than he had been previously, “Is something wrong?”

“You’re fine, darling,” Deceit reassured, “Nothing is necessarily going on,”

“Well that was a statement,” Virgil said, looking at Deceit with an eyebrow raised, he looked much more awkward than he had at any point before, “What happened to being direct?”

“Well, we’ve arrived at the edge of the forest,” Deceit said. Instead of answering him, Roman and Virgil shared a glance, he was redirecting, “I trust that you can both get wherever you’re going from here?”

“...Yes we can,” Roman nodded, shifting from foot to foot, “But… I was under the impression that you were coming as well?”

“Princey, call us a taxi so we don’t have to wait forever,” Virgil commanded, Roman pulled out his phone, looking at the screen for a moment before gasping.

“Oh my goodness!” Roman cried, “Sweet sweet phone signal! Oh instagram I missed you so much-"

“Princey, focus,”

“Oh right,” Roman nodded, pulling up something on his phone.

“We’re still gonna have to walk a while to get to the point where the uber can pick us up,” Virgil said, turning to Deceit and holding out his hand, “So, are you coming?”

“I am not particularly aware of the route from here,” Deceit told him, eyeing his hand.

“Don’t worry about it, Princey and I have that covered,” Virgil said with a half smile.

“Alright then,” Deceit said, taking Virgil’s hand, “Lead the way, darling,”

#fanfic reblog party

106 notes · View notes

zarameraki · 10 months ago

Text

♡₊˚⚜️・₊✧ 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮'𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱, 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱'𝘀 𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 ♡₊˚⚜️・₊✧

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 mdni 𖥔 sukuna is a mafia kingpin 𖥔 teasing grumpy x sunshine 𖥔 pregnancy trope 𖥔 he'll burn the world for you 𖥔 "my wife" 𖥔 he's a great dad 𖥔 mentions of miscarriage 𖥔 mentions of physical and sexual assault 𖥔 mention of parental death 𖥔 major fluff 𖥔 sexual content 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 he loves eating you out 𖥔 anal play (yup.) 𖥔 last warning: mdni!

: ̗̀➛ words: 6.0k

: ̗̀➛ notes: no bc i love you all so much. it's insane how much you guys have supported my toji fanfic & and my nanami fanfic. i'll def be writing a part two to both of those masterpieces (yes i have self-confidence). as someone who's always imagined sukuna as a mafia leader, i decided to say fuck it and write it. please leave a comment, like, and reblog! thank you & ily. enjoy! (p.s. pregnancy trope>>>)

You never thought you'd be married to Sukuna Ryomen, let alone carrying his kid again. Yet, four years deep into this forced marital mess, thanks to your father owing a hefty debt to the kingpin of the underworld crime syndicate, here you were.

“Look at you, Mrs. Ryomen, radiant as ever!” chirped one of your husband’s associate's wives. You had studied a name list last night, but it all escaped your memory after you passed out from sheer exhaustion.

Sukuna wasn’t keeping a hawk's eye on you like he used to when you first stepped into the public eye. Gone were the days of his glares if you messed up a name. Never once had he laid a finger on you at home, despite your assumption that forgetfulness would earn you a beating.

“Thank you." You forced a smile at the woman, your patience waning as the mayor's birthday party stretched on. It was almost the end of the night, and your feet were protesting from traipsing around in flats. All you craved at that moment was your bed, pronto.

The woman and her husband attempted to capture Sukuna's lukewarm attention through political discussions and expressing gratitude for the illegal artillery shipments from your husband's syndicate. They made no effort to acknowledge your existence by his side.

Your hand rested on your belly, a mere eight months into your pregnancy—a new personal record. The first time you conceived, Sukuna demanded an heir, and you willingly agreed, knowing that the child would provide some distraction in the expansive estate that felt like a cage. Unfortunately, at the two-month mark, you experienced a miscarriage.

Feeling Sukuna's knuckles lightly tapping your back, you straightened your posture momentarily, only to slouch again almost instantly. It was futile. The discomfort of your swollen and cramped belly made it nearly impossible to maintain a poised demeanor in the midst of the party.

Disobeying Sukuna meant facing inevitable death, a fact well understood in his dangerous domain, and you had never dared to challenge that.

"Let's go," Sukuna said, cutting through the incessant chatter of the couple. He didn't grasp your hand, only your fragile wrist, a gesture you didn't mind. Yours was not a typical love; he, Sukuna Ryomen, a most feared monster in the criminal underworld, and you, a sacrificial lamb, a trophy collected three years ago, a means to his heir.

"I'm sorry," you whispered as you exited the venue, heading towards the limousine surrounded by fifteen armed guards under Sukuna's command. "I'm so sorry—"

"Get in the car." He held the door open for you, signaling his guards to disperse and take their positions in the Jeeps parked behind.

Silencing yourself, you cautiously settled into the back seat, and Sukuna joined you, slamming the door with force. His anger was discernible, and the memory of that night, losing your second unborn child to a kidnapping, plagued your dreams. You were uncertain if the nightmares were about Sukuna's wrath upon finding you or the horrors his enemies inflicted on you during your 48-hour captivity.

Sukuna noticed your struggle with the seatbelt and contorted his body toward you. Your fingers released their grip on the belt, allowing him to pull it taut and secure it snugly around your midsection. Click. He withdrew, distancing himself from your face that had been mere inches away.

“Tedious fucking party, anyway,” Sukuna grumbled, his left ankle casually perched on his right kneecap. He always adopted a specific posture, his elbow leaning against something, cheek resting on his knuckles, and his narrow eyes a rich brown that could almost pass for a deep shade of red. He exuded an unrelenting air of intimidation.

"I agree," you unintentionally voiced your thoughts, earning a sidelong glance from him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

His attention barely lingered on you as the car roared to life. You breathed a sigh of relief, stretching out your legs and leaning your head back against the seat's shoulder. Your palm absentmindedly traced circles on your belly. Goosebumps peppered your skin from the frigidness in the car, stirring an involuntary shudder.

"Turn on the heater," Sukuna ordered the driver in his smooth, languid baritone.

"Yes, sir."

As warmth gradually surrounded the backseat, you hummed a small "Thank you" and closed your eyes, enjoying a few moments of peace.

Disorientation clouded your senses, and you dispelled it by rubbing your eyes and using your knuckles to prop yourself against the headboard. A couple of contractions ripped through your gut, causing you to groan and hiss through gritted teeth.

The enormous room was devoid of Sukuna, its black silk sheets hinting at the luxury covering you. The fireplace casted a warm glow, and a soft, dim golden light spilled from the lamp onto the floor.

In the first year of your marriage and pregnancy, your bedroom was located three doors away. You were tended to by on-site nurses and doctors, surrounded by an entourage of maids for company. Days were spent aimlessly wandering the estate, occasionally crossing paths with one of Sukuna's mistresses, their curious smirks evident as they exited his room.

The second year brought a subtle shift. You still slept alone, but now there was a surprising addition of joining Sukuna for dinner. Positioned diagonally from him, an air of restrained silence hung above your head. Yet, between the utensils clattering and quiet chewing, Sukuna's glances toward you and your five-month-old belly revealed your anticipation for the impending arrival of your child.

One of your maids had been instructed to lure you into a private conversation in the back garden, and before you could react, a group of men clad in black drugged you and forcibly removed you from the cage, which in that cruel moment felt like a sanctuary.

Most details of the monstrosities forced upon you in that warehouse have been compressed by your mind—the merciless physical and sexual assault endured for hours. They callously bragged that raping Sukuna's Ryomen's wife was a personal victory, cackling like bloodthirsty hyenas as you bled from your legs. In the thick of your suffering, you lost your second child in a pool of your own sweat and feces.

When Sukuna discovered you, when he annihilated every man along with their bloodlines, you were left as a mere shell of a woman, practically lifeless. You've existed as a walking corpse for quite some time now. Following that dreadful night, you attempted every conceivable means to end your own life—drowning, leaping out of windows, creating a makeshift noose from bed sheets and tying them around balcony railings, teetering on the edge—but every attempt proved useless. Sukuna consistently interfered at the last minute, sweeping in and enveloping you in his arms as you wept until unconsciousness claimed you for days.

Therapy provided some relief, as did the medications. Sukuna heightened security measures tenfold, keeping only those workers who served during his father and grandfather's reigns. He moved your belongings into his bedroom, sleeping by your side with a gun beneath his pillow. There were times when you would doze off in the library while reading, only to wake up in his room.

Two years seemed like an eternity in the slow process of healing, both physically and mentally, from the torment that had befallen you. Stepping into the garden was a reminder of the progress you had made, yet the hope that blossomed in your womb now filled you with a different kind of fear.

You needed your baby. Even if it meant risking your own life during childbirth. The only thing that mattered was the precious life you carried within you, and as long as your baby took that first breath, you'd welcome death with open arms.

Sukuna's bedroom door creaked open, revealing his presence.

Mink-colored tendrils of hair obscured his eyes, disheveled from their usual spiked stance. The stark white of his dress shirt was marred by the unmistakable stains of someone else's blood, and a gun dangled casually from his grasp. In the subdued lighting, his facial markings, inked tattoos designed to mask the scars of his tormented childhood, appeared more ominous than ever.

Without acknowledging your ogling, he briskly entered his bathroom.

You slipped back under the covers, pulling the comforter up to your chin, soothing the sharp twinges in your belly. The rhythmic sounds of his shower served as a background melody. Sukuna took an eternity to freshen up, nearly two hours passing before the door finally creaked open. You had kept a close eye on it, lost in your own world and trying to ignore the persistent contractions. No complaints, though – you were at the eight-month mark, and this baby was determined to make its entrance into the world.

Draped in a sleek black silk robe, Sukuna strolled toward his side of the bed, his eyes locking onto yours. "Why are you still awake?" He tilted his head as if studying an unfamiliar creature. He always regarded you with a curious interest, unearthing some new revelations about you.

"Cramps," you whispered in the dimness, even though the first rays of morning sun began to seep through the curtains.

Sukuna strolled to his side of the bed, lifting the comforter to settle down. "Do you take any medication for it?"

You shook your head. "I don't want to take any risks."

"So you're just going to endure the night with a migraine?"

Your husband seemed oblivious to the concept of cramps. He hadn't bothered to educate himself about your pregnancy or even familiarize himself with basic menstrual cycle terminology. You hesitated to bring attention to his title and position, but he was, after all, born from a woman.

How could he not know?

"Answer me," Sukuna demanded, fixing you with a cold, indifferent gaze. How could two simple words carry such a heavy, intimidating weight? Your entire body shuddered, and you swore you felt your child kick in response to his attitude, causing you to clench your teeth.

"Cramps . . . are something women experience during their period and pregnancy. They're sharp, unpredictable pains in your gut and back," you explained, finding a position that eased the cramps and calmed your baby. "It's worse when you're pregnant—like someone attached a taser to your body without a switch to turn it off."

Sukuna's brow furrowed, and he seemed pissed off as if he held a vendetta against cramps. "Will it have any consequence on the baby?"

You were really trying to be patient. “The baby is the reason why.”

He ran his hands wearily down his face, casting a stern gaze at the ceiling, his breath quickening. "Is there any way to relieve the pain? Besides medication?"

“Well,” you said slowly, “when I first started menstruating, my mother used to place a warm rubber bottle on my stomach.” The recollection of nights spent groaning, tossing, and turning with your hand clutching your stomach brought a smile. After her passing in high school, you found yourself managing the household, dealing with your drug-addicted father, and taking care of yourself all on your own.

"Come here."

Startled, you shifted your focus to your husband, who raised the comforter like a makeshift tent with one arm. "You don't have to—"

"Come here."

With caution, you edged closer, lying flat and holding your breath. Sukuna propped himself up on one elbow, resting his temple on his knuckles while adjusting the blanket up to your neck. His left hand glided up your sweater and settled on your swollen belly.

An immediate sense of relaxation cocooned you, your eyes closing as warmth radiated from his palm onto your skin. The sensation passed through to your child, who quit kicking within seconds, seemingly recognizing their father's touch. It dawned on you that Sukuna hadn't touched you since you conceived, and you hadn't realized the volume of your misery and longing until this moment.

"Feeling better?"

"Mm-hmm." You nestled your face close to his neck. All you managed to whisper, your voice tinged with brokenness, was, "Please, don't let go."

Sukuna responded only with silence.

You'd woken up screaming bloody-mary.

The security team and maids hurried into the bedroom, their eyes widening at the sight of blood staining your clothes and darkening the black sheets. In a swift response, the doctor and her team of nurses rushed in while Uraume, Sukuna's trusted aide, calmly called for your husband from a corner of the room.

In the heat of your excruciating screams, five nurses attempted to guide your breathing and encourage you to follow a pattern. Guards carefully lifted you into a sitting position, and Uraume decisively cleared the room of all men. The doctor swiftly removed your sweatpants and panties, covering your lower region with a sheet, and instructing you to push.

Your body felt numb, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, and a black vignette closing in on your vision. Your head swayed left and right, on the verge of dropping if not for Uraume's unwavering support. Despite the intensity of your grip, they held steady, their only reaction being a stream of muttered curses amid the chaotic scene.

"I can't—Uraume—"

"You will, Mrs. Sukuna. You have come this far. Giving up now is not an option."

"I don't want to die," you whispered akin to a prayer.

"You won't," they softly replied. "He won't allow it."

Uraume, a silent figure from the past, now stood by your side, offering support and encouragement. The connection with them had been minimal, limited to the formalities of a marital contract signing. They had simply muttered, “He’s not half as evil as they say,” to you before packing up the papers and leaving you in the room with Sukuna.

The room buzzed with affirmations, reassuring you that they could see the baby's head and urging you to push with each breath.

The sound of the baby's cries stirred you awake.

You snapped to attention at the sweet, reassuring sound, realizing that your baby was close to arrival—alive and ready to face the world. Following two heartbreaking miscarriages and the pain endured as Sukuna's wife, the bearer of his lost children, you were finally on the cusp of welcoming motherhood.

"Two more pushes!" The doctor's voice cut through the air.

"AGH!" A guttural growl escaped your throat as you grappled with the harsh sensations. Your body trembled, and waves of fiery discomfort overflowed through your core as you exerted yourself to bring your baby into the world.

"Come on," Uraume whispered. "You can do this, Mrs. Ryomen."

You let out a powerful cry and strained with effort, bringing forth new life. The baby and you were crying at the exact wavelength, competing against who could be louder. The nurses and attendants, familiar faces from your previous pregnancies, clasped their hands in prayer for a safe delivery. Tears of relief streamed down your face as you pushed for your own well-being.

"Blanket!" the doctor urgently called out, prompting a nurse to rush over with a soft cream blanket. "Push!"

With a final, determined push, the weight lifted suddenly.

The slippery sensation of delivering the child and the immediate release of pressure left you slumping against Uraume's shoulder. As they laid you down, the doctor directed the staff to tend to you while the baby's cries filled the air.

The doctor approached through your hazy sight and gently laid your newborn on your chest. Overwhelmed with emotion, you showered your baby with kisses, tears of joy streaming down your face. Your little one was here. They were finally here.

"Congratulations, Mrs. Ryomen," the doctor announced as the cries of your newborn gradually faded into the background. "It's a girl."

You drifted into unconsciousness.

The soft cadence of Sukuna's voice filtered through the foggy boundaries of sleep, causing you to slowly come back to life.

“Why is this brat refusing to sleep?” you heard your husband grumbling.

With a laborious effort, you rubbed your eyes, summoning the strength to lift your head from the comfort of the pillow. The scene unfolded before you—Sukuna, the most feared criminal, pacing at the foot of his bed, cradling your crying newborn daughter in his arms, unsure of how to handle his little foe.

"What do you want? Food? You don’t have any teeth yet, little miscreant."

"Sukuna . . ." you whispered, a gentle plea for attention.

Your husband's gaze snapped in your direction, relief washing over his features as he realized you were conscious. "Thank fuck." Moving swiftly, he approached and took a seat at the edge of the bed.

His brown-reddish eyes lingered on the delicate scene unfolding before him—the intertwining of your index finger with your daughter's tiny, rattling fist. A calming magic seemed to stem from your touch, instantly soothing the cries to soft sniffles.

"Already playing favorites, I see," he remarked with a teasing tone, a wry smile on his lips.

"I have to feed her." Your voice was hoarse from the relentless screaming during the delivery. A series of deadly wheezes followed when you coughed, frightening your baby once more. Her cries started again, blending with the impatient curses of her father.

He gently placed her in the cradle, his strength used to prop you up against the headboard. The room carried the scent of coconut soap, your body freshly washed, the sheets beneath you brand-new. You were also dressed in a new set of panties and a nursing bra.

"Are you sure you have enough nutrients in your body to feed her?" Sukuna asked, holding your baby girl as you unclipped the front left cup. Rather than wasting your breath on a response, you focused on helping your daughter latch onto your nipple.

You winced once she caught it, then melted back as she started drinking. “I’m fine,” you finally answered. “Body . . . hurts.”

"No shit. You pushed an eight pound baby out of you." Despite the crude sarcasm in his tone, Sukuna tenderly caressed his knuckles over his daughter's cheek.

"Did you want . . . a girl?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, adjusting your baby onto your lap. "I assumed you'd prefer a boy as an heir."

"I'm not my father," he declared, putting an end to the conversation. "She's got your eyes."

Your daughter gazed up at you with a curiosity remarkably similar to yours. You smiled down at her, grateful she had made it. Grateful that Sukuna wasn't throwing a tantrum over the gender of your child but instead cupping the top of his baby girl's head and brushing his thumb across her forehead.

“You got a name for her?” Sukuna asked.

“Yes, but we can brainstorm if you don’t—”

“You carried the child, you birthed her, you will name her. Whatever it is, I agree.”

Something dead stirred inside your chest. Swallowing hard, you shared the chosen name, "Nobara."

He nodded in approval, and as he pronounced her name, Nobara responded with a wailing cry. "Her tantrums will be the fucking death of me." Sukuna took her into his arms again.

"Support the back of her head and rub her back. She needs to be burped," you advised.

He grunted but followed your instructions. Moments later, a tiny burp from Nobara made you chuckle, earning a slight eye roll and a hint of a smile from him.

"I'll take the next few weeks off to help you recover from the aftermath and the stitches," he announced, rising and walking towards his work desk, where he settled into a large leather chair, cradling your newborn.

You nodded appreciatively, easing yourself down.

"Oh, before I forget," Sukuna mentioned as you settled into bed, "I've arranged a new doctor for you."

“Did you fire the last one?”

“I fired at her, yes.”

Your eyes widened. "What? Why would you—? What?"

He shrugged, cradling the back of your newborn's head. "She suggested an additional stitch for you. Said it would make things 'tighter' down there for me."

Your face flushed. “So . . . you killed her?”

"Yes," he confirmed, his gaze fixed on you with those penetrating eyes, "I don't need a mere doctor questioning whether I'd still enjoy having sex with my wife after she gave birth to our child."

“But . . . you have mistresses. Don’t you?”

He lifted a brow. “I had mistresses up until . . . ”

Up until the kidnapping.

Sukuna never spoke of the crime after he’d saved you. Instead, he expressed his commitment through actions: sleeping beside you, teaching you how to handle a handgun, keeping a protective arm around your waist at social gatherings. Occasionally, you swore you felt him run his fingers through your hair as you slept.

"I wouldn't mind if you did," you admitted, a voice inside contradicting your words. "Given what my body has been through, I would find myself repulsive for pleasure, too. I understand if you feel disgusted."

Sukuna halted the gentle strokes on your daughter's back and straightened up. "What the fuck did you just say?"

An icy shiver ran through you, momentarily numbing the pain. "I-I just assumed—"

"You know, you make a lot of assumptions about me, wife. It gets under my fucking skin that you'd ever believe I could raise a hand on you. Day and night, every hour and minute, even now, in your presence, my mind is consumed with ways to kill the fear that's taken root in you.” He was infuriated yet vulnerable, with Nobara sleeping peacefully on his shoulder. “Everyone I’ve ever met has done nothing but fear me like I’m a curse on their soul, and while I’m flattered of the monster they’ve painted me out to be, I refuse to let my wife and daughter see me in that light. Do I make myself clear?"

You . . . nodded.

“And for your information, I had mistresses up until I married you.”

You took in a sharp breath, processing the confession. "But those women—"

"Spies," he clarified, his voice low and steady. "They operate undercover in my clubs, keeping an eye out for potential threats. I haven't fucked anyone since the day I put that ring on your finger." He offered a small, almost imperceptible apology to your baby for cursing.

"Oh."

All you ever heard were twisted stories about the Sukuna Ryomen, a young man who, against all odds, slaughtered his own father to ascend the throne of the underworld criminal realm. Whispers spoke of a chilling childhood, where a mother's desperate attempt to suffocate her son in his sleep. The scars etched into his skin, concealed beneath a tapestry of dark markings, bore witness to the brutal initiation rites inflicted by vengeful uncles. In his domain, everyone prayed to see him buried six feet under.

Which is why you felt sympathy for your husband. He was lonely. Too lonely. Despite all the riches and influence surrounding him, he was stuck in a fortress where danger lurked around every corner. He had no friends, no one he could truly confide in—except perhaps Uraume. Opening up about his emotions wasn't in his nature. He kept the tough exterior, convinced that being a monster, a curse, was the only path to earning respect and recognition.

But just now, when had cut himself open in front of you and bled a human color, he was Sukuna. Your husband. The one who just became a father. A man wrapped in a comfortable robe with his hair combed down and his skin clean of dirt and blood as he held his daughter, as he gazed at you like you two were the only people meant fighting for in his treacherous world.

Sukuna noticed your silence, tuned in to your steady breaths, and lowered his lashes. "You'll ask me to touch you. Not just for the sake of having another child but for your own pleasure. If I'm not around and you need me, you will call, and I'll rush home. If this little brat gives you any trouble, I'll handle it. Hell, maybe I'll let her in on a bit of the family business for a head start."

"No," you murmured, absorbing everything he'd just said. "Not now. I want her to enjoy a proper childhood."

"Is that a demand?" Sukuna tilted his head slightly, another method of asserting authority. Yet, after all he'd shared about dropping everything for you, about making love to you, the fear in you started to dissolve bit by bit.

"Yes," you affirmed. "It's a demand."

A small smirk played on Sukuna's lips as he rose from his spot, circled the bed, and settled down beside you, with Nobara resting peacefully on his chest. Summoning all your strength, you turned to run your fingers over your baby's soft cheek and tiny, parted lips.

“She sleeps like you, Mr. Ryomen.”

“Sukuna,” he corrected, his arm covering his eyes as he breathed with a slightly open mouth. “My wife will call me Sukuna.”

Teasingly, you asked, “Is that a demand, Sukuna?”

His arm shifted low, and his reddish-brown eyes softened, stealing your breath. “Only from my wife and daughter.”

You smiled, closing your eyes. “Goodnight, Sukuna.”

In response, he wrapped his strong arm around you, pulling you close to his side, his two girls snuggled against his body.

In the beginning, you knew you didn't belong in the hell Sukuna ruled. Your father's mistakes, pilfering drug shipments and peddling them locally, had sealed both his fate and yours. With thoughts of fleeing the disgrace your father brought upon your family, you had started packing, desperate to escape the clutches of your old man.

The following night, Sukuna and his henchmen barged into your cramped apartment, wreaking havoc on every piece of furniture. Rocking in the corner of your room, Sukuna casted his shadow over you like the God of Death, bathed in your father’s blood.

Crouching down to your eye level, he tipped your chin up, leaving a splotch of blood. He used the collar of your sweater to wipe it away. In a hushed confession, you revealed the hidden drugs under the sink and floorboards, along with your father's buyer list folded in the cereal boxes. Sukuna grinned and ordered his underlings to retrieve the concealed items. Then, the chilling question hung in the air: "Are you going to kill me, too?"

"I'm tempted," Sukuna replied, "but not to kill you." His gaze fixated on your left hand, and he raised it, studying your ring finger. "You will pay for your father's crimes with your life." He held your hand in front of your face. "You will take my last name." His smirk widened, revealing perfect teeth. "Isn't that the cruelest form of death, love?"

Unconsciousness claimed you then, but after seven years of marriage, enduring unimaginable hardships, and finally welcoming a baby into the world, your answer was clear. The true torment wasn't caused by the man you once perceived as a monster but rather by his enemies.

"How am I supposed to know if Mr. Munchkin wants more tea? He's a fucking stuffed toy. Can't talk, you know?"

"Sukuna," you warned, perched on the armrest while busy crocheting baby socks for your little one on the way.

Nobara, wielding a rubber, squeaky hammer, stood up from her seat, giving her father a bonk on the head each time he let out a curse. And you often heard the squeak of the hammer around the house.

Nobara's tiara was slightly askew, frustration evident in her curled lips and bared teeth. She was growing increasingly irritated with her father's lack of understanding about the rules of her tea party. "Mr. Munchkin wants tea, Papa. Give him tea! Give him tea! Give him—"

"Fine, I surrender. Here, you little bastard. Take the whole fu—damn pot." He shoved the plastic teapot towards Mr. Munchkin, a well-loved cat stuffed toy you had gifted Nobara on her last birthday. "Happy?"

"Cup," she insisted, pointing at the tea cup in front of Mr. Munchkin.

Sukuna sighed and poured the water from the kettle into the pink plastic cup.

"Me too," Nobara added, settling back in her kiddie chair. Sukuna had barely taken his seat before she had him on the floor. "Hurry!"

"May I pour for the other toys first, Your Highness?"

"Not toys. Friends."

Sukuna shot you a helpless glare, eliciting a chuckle from you. He filled the table with tea, and Nobara, holding her small cup, clinked it with her father's, followed by her collection of stuffed animals. Sukuna reluctantly mimicked the gesture. Instead of sipping the tea, he downed it like a shot.

“Papa!”

“Sukuna, come on.”

There wasn’t any winning with his girls.

Sukuna reluctantly poured himself another cup, sipping it with an air of royalty that mirrored a princess. Despite his resistance to the make-believe tea party, you couldn't ignore the genuine affection he showed toward his daughter. He would nod attentively when one of the stuffed animals "spoke," laughed along with Nobara, and even beautified himself with a glittering tiara, a feathered pink scarf, and deep purple-painted nails.

Sukuna was, without a doubt, a fantastic father. It came as no surprise that Nobara's first word was 'Brat.'

That night, you kissed your daughter goodnight and tucked her into her bed. Sukuna joked that he’d spent every last bit of his wealth decorating the brat’s room, filling it with the latest toys, and stacking her closet with whatever clothes she laid her finger or eyes on. She was truly the princess of her father’s heart.

"She's asleep," you informed him.

"I'll give her a kiss in a minute. Just need to finish this," Sukuna replied, pouring over his documents.

Letting out a sigh, you shuffled over, rolled back his chair, and settled onto his lap. He continued reading as you wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your cheek on his shoulder, peering at him through your lashes.

"I want you," you murmured.

Sukuna paused, lowering his gaze to meet your cheeky smile. "Later."

"It's late."

"I have to finish—" He halted as you began kissing his neck, moving up to his jaw and cheeks, tracing the contours of his face tattoos.

"Please, Sukuna," you whispered near his ear.

How could he refuse you anything when you appeared so stunning, radiating with the joy of expecting another child in your four-month-old belly?

“Take off your robe and get on the bed. Spread your legs for me.” He gave your ass a little smack as you happily skipped away, shedding your clothes and clearing the bed to settle in. With a grin, you opened your legs, propping yourself up on your elbows.

Sukuna stood up from his seat, loosening his robe as he did. He sighed, watching the moisture forming between your legs. Pregnancy seemed to heighten your lusts, and Sukuna was always ready to fulfill your needs.

“What pretty, wet cunt,” he whispered softly, leaning in to kiss your chest, trailing down to your stomach, your hips, your calling clit.

Over the years, you realized Sukuna enjoyed pleasuring you more than the opposite. He feasted on you like a starved man, whether it happened in the back of the limo, in a guest room during a party, or just minutes before a crucial meeting in his office. He insisted it was his way of relaxing, often pleading with you to spend a full hour on his face as he ate you out and drank every drop of your release. It had turned into a daily routine for him. And for you.

“Oh, Sukuna, yes, yes. Right there—ah!” Your back arched off the mattress when his tongue drove into your hole, flicking and exploring your clamping walls. His mouth was latched to your pussy, sucking it in, his cheeks hollowing rapidly. Your fingers tightened in his hair, hips voluntarily grating against his face, his sharp nose rubbing over your swollen clit.

Sukuna drew back as you came down with a muted cry behind your hand and lapped at the flow of your juices pouring out of you. His lips shone as he leaned over and gently kissed you, allowing you to taste yourself from his tongue. “If I don’t fuck you now, I will die.”

“Hurry, then.”

Sukuna pushed himself inside you, and that first wave of pleasure hit you so strongly that you sank your nails in his back and cried out heavenwards. He groaned and grunted, thrusts growing speed, his plump balls smacking against your ass. You loved that he fucked harder, faster, driving you to the brink of ruination.

After you'd healed from Nobara's birth, he would always make sure to get at least ten orgasms from you. From midnight to early morning, he'd fuck you in every possible position. But his favorite was always missionary, where he could have his eyes on you, writhing and whimpering beneath him, telling him it’s too much, he's too thick, all while using your heels to draw him in even closer.

Sukuna curled his arm around your waist and sat you up on his lap, thrusting up into you as you coiled yourself around his neck. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. Your cunt was made for me, love. Your cunt was fucking made for me.” His hand threaded to the back of your head, grasping your hair and drawing your face back so you were looking him in the eyes without wavering, without bowing your head. He needed to know you didn’t fear him when he fucked you like this. It was an unspoken check-in, and when you smiled drunkenly, only then did he let you return to embracing him.

“Are you close?” you whispered.

“Not yet. I want to come in your ass.”

You shivered despite how scalding and sweaty your bodies were. “Do it.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded. “Please.”

Sukuna dragged you off his cock so you could get on all-fours, raising your ass up for him. He’s only ever been in your sacred spot a handful of times but never finished himself inside it. It appeared that tonight you were both a little extra spellbound.

Mounting himself behind you, Sukuna unfurled your ass and spit on his fingers, stroking the puckered hole. He gathered the creamy liquid dripping out of your pussy to lubricate the spot. His middle finger stretched you out, followed by his ring fingers, pushing in and out until he knew for sure you were prepared for him.

Sukuna’s steel-hard cock pushed into your tiny hole. The sight of it expanding to swallow his girthy size almost made him come right there and then. He started to move in sluggish movement, grabbing onto your waist. His hips cruised, brushing against your ass, making you impatient and push yourself back.

“Understood.” He chuckled and dug his nails into your skin, dragging out to the tip and shoving himself inside. Your face pressed into your pillows, crying and trembling as he abused your asshole non-stop. “You’re taking me so well, my love. Oh, fuck, fuck.” He rutted into you like a beast, claiming your body, rubbing your clit from the front, spanking your ass, brandishing you over and over again.

You both snapped in unison.

Sukuna sagged over your spine as he bucked in every last bit of his sloppy seed. His lips kissed your shoulder blades, holding you up by one arm. Gently, he pulled out, his cock growing floppy until you flipped onto your back, hair sticking to your sweaty, flushed face, belly slightly swollen, your tits larger in size, his release mingled with yours seeping out from your holes.

“Fuck, I love you,” he whispered, cupping your face like he didn’t just fuck your soul out of you. That smirk you’d come to love appeared on his lips. You reciprocated back, stretching out your arms so he could lean down and kiss you sweetly on the lips and cheeks and toss in a praise or two for what a good girl you were as he slid into you again, slower and more intimate with his game. “I fucking love you, Y/N.”

You smiled against his lips that continuously whispered the three beautiful words and said, “I love you, too, Sukuna,” before sealing it with a long, lasting kiss.

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