#my parenthood shared

[bryonyashaw]

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A post shared by Bryony | Lifestyle | family | foodie (@bryonyannie)

Snapshots of our May

Spring is in full swing and in May people celebrated alsorts of things like Star Wars Day, school have broken up for half term and people enjoyed Bank Holidays!

We also saw the Coronation of King Charles III on 6th May, with a whole weekend of celebrations across the UK & around the world. It is the first time that the UK has celebrated a coronation in 70 years.

𝗘𝘃𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝗳𝗿��𝗺 𝗠𝗮𝘆 2023:

• 𝗠𝗮𝘆 𝗗𝗮𝘆 - is an ancient pagan spring festival, traditionally celebrated across Europe with maypole dancing and the crowning with a floral crown of a May Queen

• 𝗖𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗼 𝗗𝗲 𝗠𝗮𝘆𝗼

• 𝗦𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗳𝗿𝗲𝗲 𝘄𝗲𝗲𝗸

• 𝗠𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗠𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗹 𝗛𝗲𝗮𝗹𝘁𝗵 𝗔𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗪𝗲𝗲𝗸

• 𝗪𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗦𝗮𝗳𝗲𝘁𝘆 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗵

• 𝗜𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗠𝗲𝗱𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗿𝗮𝗻𝗲𝗮𝗻 𝗗𝗶𝗲𝘁 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗵

• 𝗔𝗺𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗦𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗸𝗲 𝗔𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗵

• 𝗔𝗿𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗶𝘀 𝗔𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗵

• 𝗕𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗧𝘂𝗺𝗼𝗿 𝗔𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗵

• 𝗕𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗛𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗦𝗽𝗲𝗲𝗰𝗵 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗵

• 𝗖𝘆𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗰 𝗙𝗶𝗯𝗿𝗼𝘀𝗶𝘀 𝗔𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗵

• 𝗛𝗲𝗮𝗹𝘁𝗵𝘆 𝗩𝗶𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗵

• 𝗛𝗲𝗽𝗮𝘁𝗶𝘁𝗶𝘀 𝗔𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗵

• 𝗟𝘂𝗽𝘂𝘀 𝗔𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗵

• 𝗠𝗲𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗺𝗮/𝗦𝗸𝗶𝗻 𝗖𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲𝗿 𝗗𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗣𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗵

• 𝗠𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗹 𝗛𝗲𝗮𝗹𝘁𝗵 𝗔𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗵

• 𝗡𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗔𝘀𝘁𝗵𝗺𝗮 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗔𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗿𝗴𝘆 𝗔𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗵

• 𝗡𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗖𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗮𝗰 𝗗𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗔𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗵

• 𝗡𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗣𝗵𝘆𝘀𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹 𝗙𝗶𝘁𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 & 𝗦𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘀 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗵

• 𝗡𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗡𝘂𝗿𝘀𝗲𝘀 𝗗𝗮𝘆

• 𝗖𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱𝗿𝗲𝗻’𝘀 𝗠𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗹 𝗛𝗲𝗮𝗹𝘁𝗵 𝗔𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗪𝗲𝗲𝗸

• 𝗙𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗔𝗹𝗹𝗲𝗿𝗴𝘆 𝗔𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗪𝗲𝗲𝗸

• 𝗗𝗲𝗮𝗳 𝗔𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝗪𝗲𝗲𝗸

• 𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱 𝗛𝘆𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗗𝗮𝘆

• 𝗡𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗪𝗮𝗹𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗵

• 𝗡𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗢𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗼𝗽𝗼𝗿𝗼𝘀𝗶𝘀 𝗠𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗵

• 𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱 𝗜𝗕𝗗 𝗗𝗮𝘆

• 𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱 𝗡𝗼 𝗧𝗼𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗰𝗼 𝗗𝗮𝘆

• 𝗜𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗻𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗚𝗶𝗹𝗯𝗲𝗿𝘁 & 𝗦𝘂𝗹𝗹𝗶𝘃𝗮𝗻 𝗗𝗮𝘆

• 𝗘𝘂𝗿𝗼𝘃𝗶𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗦𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗖𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝘀𝘁

[loveaetingkids]

As much as I love reading fics with Karl Heisenberg bonding with Rose I would also like to see more of them acknowledging how Heisenbergs background is tied to his perception of kids.Because in the game,he was raised as a science project by Mother Miranda,only seeing her “children” as guinea pigs.Similarly, Alcina Dimitrescu took under her wing Bela, Daniela and Cassandra after these three previously human women were subjected to experimentations,making them forget their past,serving as a sort of empty vessels Lady Dimitrescu can project all of her ideas and beliefs onto. Living with a twisted perception that children are made with a certain goal in mind for them to achieve can actually shed light as to why Heisenberg proposed to Ethan (the wording was intentional) to weaponize Rose without thinking that this suggestion would actually upset Winters.While he claims that he’s not like his siblings and is against Miranda,he fails to acknowledge that he did internalize some of her views; therefore it kinda makes sense as to why he didn’t foresee Ethan’s refusal,as he thought that all parents/guardians raise their children similarly to Miranda.So that’s why a story partly or fully centered around Karl seeing Ethan loving his daughter not for her mold potential but for who she is might be so alien to Karl,and him getting to understand that treating children as fellow human beings is normal would be so interesting to read.

[spineless-lobster]

Pat and Julian have made a secret “Dad Club” where they talk about being dads. After the events of “It’s Behind You” and a long, intense discussion (a quick, knowing glance at each other) the two decide to invite the Captain into Dad Club. The Captain happily accepts their invitation

[doulayogimama]

On my side of the family, my oldest cousins are 32/33/34. Most are 26+ years old. I even have a 37 yo aunt thanks to my adulterous grandpa. She is a year younger than my husband and it makes for very awkward get togethers 😬

I’m the only one with a kid. My daughter has no cousins on my side, no kids to play with. FINALLY, one of my older cousins is having a baby girl💗 She’s due any day and I’m so excited to hopefully meet baby on our trip to Miami next month.

I’ve been obsessed with names since I was little and enjoy seeing what people choose. On K’s side, the religious tradition is to name children after family members who have died. We are the only ones who didn’t follow that tradition. So my nieces / nephews have some… older and outdated names. The last one, none of us could believe that was the kids name. Even my MIL was like eh, I think I’ll call him by a nickname 🫠

I’m so stoked to see what my cousins name their baby girl. 🫶🏽

[cannabisbutch]

I either have my very first UTI or i am having an Adverse and Bad side effect from my new muscle relaxer which would super suck bc it was actually helping as a pain mantinence med so much more than any NSAID ever has

[azazelsazaleas]

I can’t believe this is even a thing. “Making your kids share a bedroom is child abuse, actually” is one of the most thoroughly unhinged takes I’ve ever heard. Has anyone who has ever thought that even interacted with a child?

Besides, if making kids share a room really were child abuse, wouldn’t that mean bunk beds would be banned?

I've had a conversation with an old college friend a couple months ago and she told me where she lives now, it's not permitted to have your children share a bedroom, which surprised me. And she also thought it was abusive to do so. So, yeah, poll time.

[squidthusiast]

Ok, but why do I imagine Eight being the unofficial child of Pearl x Marina?

Because I imagine Eight was minding their business and all of a sudden, Pearl would slam the paper down and said “You’re adopted now”

Basically OTH at the start of their world tour haha, I love that they took Eight with them.

I have more detailed thoughts under the cut for those interested in my ramblings, analysis and interpretations of the characters.

Disclaimer: This is my own take on it, don’t let it ruin your fun!

I personally don’t really subscribe to the fandom’s ‘pearlina moms’ headcanon.

On the one hand, I am an absolute sucker for the ‘found family’ trope, and I definitely think Agent 8 and OTH fit in it!

On the other hand, I think people immediately put Pearl and Marina into the ‘parenthood’ box, a little too eagerly. Not saying this specific ask is that, btw, it just reminded me of some instances i’ve seen.

I personally think that the relationship between OTH and Agent 8 is a little more nuanced & sibling-esque, for the following reasons:

1. Within canon, we often see 8 being referred to as a friend by both Pearl and Marina.

Pearl does it more explicitly (see that one interview at her house), whereas with Marina it’s more insinuated (ex. In the Side Order dev diaries, she starts calling Agent 8 as ‘Eight’, which is stated to be a name used by their friends).

Pearl seems to be an accidental-duck-parent of sorts who haphazardly collects octoling teenagers & young musical talent. It goes in line with her whole mentor-esque leader personality, and i’m sure these disoriented teens find relief in an idol who seemingly knows what she’s doing (she really doesn’t).

However she doesn’t act in a parental manner. More-so like your estranged gay cousin who hit it big in another country and is down to show your queer little butt the ropes.

Marina on the other hand seems to have a more empathetic approach with Agent 8 (opposite to Pearl’s brashness). Marina clearly connects with Agent 8 through their shared experience as defected octoling soldiers, and probably sees her younger self in them. She’s already caring as it is, but this is accentuated during octo expansion given the circumstances.

I feel however that, unlike Pearl, Marina has a bit of a harder time actually forming a bond with Eight at the beginning. Their similarities (seemingly) end at their shared experience, and probably leaves Marina awkwardly wondering how to approach them further. What we can assume though is that they become closer friends during OTH’s world tour, given the events described in the Memverse Dev Diaries.

Meeting Eight during difficult circumstances (OE) and helping them get out creates a sense of camaraderie between them, which probably devolves into genuine care, established friendship and a strong bond amongst the three overtime.

2. Pearl and Marina are very career-centric both in Splat 2 and 3.

It is reasonable that the two young idols, who see their fame and musical recognition rise spectacularly & fast, are not particularly interested in settling down at this point in their lives.

Now entering her late 20s, Pearl is most definitely still interested in keeping the ball rolling with Off the Hook’s international success. Her character often points towards restlessness, freedom and discovery. There has definitely been character development in regards to her maturity in Splatoon 3, but these aforementioned traits are still ever present in her demeanour & decision-making.

Marina on the other hand can be seen slowly blossoming from a supporting character to being her own person. She definitely develops more self-confidence by Splatoon 3, but is still naturally bashful. It’s clear that she is allowing herself to explore & open up to new things for her own sake. She remains a caring and somewhat nurturing individual, but she is at a stage where she’s learning to live for herself and not for others.

Parenthood (and all the responsibilities and sacrifices it entails) at this moment of their lives would probably freak Pearl out, and stunt Marina’s personal growth.

3. The age gaps between OTH and Agent 8 are too close for it to create a parent/kid bond.

This makes their relationship a little hazy in regards to roles; 8 is still young enough that they may seek out rolemodels and mentors (still relatively influenceable), but they’re also nearing their 20s. By this point they are fairly self sufficient, have a sense of their personal values & identity, and they are relatively responsible & mature.

Pearl and Marina are 8’s seniors by approximately 4-6 years. However, in Splatoon 2 they’re entering their early 20s and their career has just begun to take off.

They are both still relatively youngsters, albeit older & more mature(? glancing at Pearl) youngsters than 8. This places them in a position where they can guide 8 and offer certain support and resources, but lack the maturity and experience of a full-fledged adult. This would approximate their relationship closer to that of siblings in a family setting.

Pearl & Marina are also less likely to feel a duty towards Eight as an adult would with a child. Instead, the latter’s circumstances are more likely to incite feelings of rapport and compassion as a fellow young inkfish.

Now, with all of this said, I will acknowledge that friendship/found family is MUCH more nuanced than a strict binary.

From personal experience in my last years of college, I did find myself caring for my fellow freshmen as though they were my kids, in certain ways. Hell, I called them my kids.

I acted as a proud parent whenever some of them achieved something, attempted to pass down my knowledge to them, and was protective of them to a certain extent.

They also annoyed me sometimes, like younger people do haha. And i’m sure I annoyed them too!

So I wouldn’t put it past OTH to call Eight their kid and have this mentor/parent-esque rapport with them in certain circumstances.

This is all based both on canon & my own interpretations of it, but still closely aligned to what has been shown in-game.

So if you have a different interpretation of Agent 8 and OTH, that’s great! I love to see people’s personal headcanons. Ultimately, Agent 8 is meant to be somewhat of a blank slate for the players to mold, with some hinted-at personality traits of their own.

As long as you have fun with these characters, that’s all that matters. This is just my personal opinion on their relationship in-game.

If you read all of this, you deserve the biggest golden star for listening to my incessant yapping 🤲⭐️

Feel free to bother me about this or other opinions you may have in my inbox, just be kind please!

[ffcrazy15]

"Just a reminder that if you're not wealthy and privileged enough to escape the grinding wheels of late capitalism, then you don't have a right to reproduce! Only good rich people get to have families!"

Bruh I didn't have my own room until I was like 12. And it was half the size of the one pictured lol

[bryonyashaw]

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A post shared by Bryony | Lifestyle | family | foodie (@bryonyannie)

April has been a good month - we did all the things.

Happy Bank Holiday!

𝟭𝘀𝘁 𝗔𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗹

April Fools Day - celebrated all over the world as a morning of jokes and tricks but don't play a trick after noon or you play the fool!

𝟮𝗻𝗱 𝗔𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗹

World Autism Awareness Day.

𝟮𝗻𝗱 𝗔𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗹

International Childrens Book Day - held on or around Hans Christian Andersen's birthday, which is celebrated to inspire a love of reading and to call attention to children's books.

𝟱𝘁𝗵 𝗔𝗽𝗿 𝘁𝗼 𝟭𝟯𝘁𝗵 𝗔𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗹

Passover, or Pesach is one of the most important festivals in the Jewish calendar, commemorating the anniversary of the Exodus from Egyptian slavery.

𝟳𝘁𝗵 𝗔𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗹 - Good Friday

A bank holiday in the UK, this Christian celebration commemorates the crucifixion of Jesus and his death at Calvary. Hot Cross Buns are traditionally eaten today.

𝟵𝘁𝗵 𝗔𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗹

Easter is the Christian celebration of Christ's resurrection. It has been adopted across the world as a secular spring festival, celebrated by exchanging chocolate eggs and eating family meals and focusing on symbols such as eggs, rabbits and chicks.

Unicorn Day A day to celebrate the most popular mythical creature ever, which is also the symbol of Scotland.

𝟭𝟬𝘁𝗵 𝗔𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗹

Easter Monday, the day after Easter Day, is a Bank Holiday in the UK and is a national holiday in many countries around the world.

Siblings Day

Based on traditional Indian festival of Rakshabandhan, which is hundreds of years old, honoring the relationships of siblings.

𝟭𝟯𝘁𝗵 𝗔𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗹

April 13th specifically was chosen in honor of Scrabble's inventor, Alfred Mosher Butts.

𝟭𝟳𝘁𝗵 𝗔𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗹

International Haiku Poetry Day

The day the whole world honors the Japanese poetry form of haiku. A haiku is a poem consisting of 3 lines and a seven syllable structure.

18th April - World Heritage Day

21st to 22nd April - Eid al-Fitr

22nd April - Earth Day

23rd April - National Shakespeare Day

23rd April - St Georges Day

23rd April - World Book Night

23rd April - UNESCO World Book and Copyright Day

25th April - Penguin Day

29th April - International Dance Day

30th April - International Jazz Day

[hyperlexichypatia]

If childfree people don't stop framing children's personhood -- not even children's rights or liberation, just the objective fact of their basic humanity -- as either forced parenthood or pedophilia, I'm going to walk into the ocean.

"Children are people. Children are members of society. Children are due the same basic human respect and consideration as any other members of society you might incidentally interact with while existing as a human in a society."

"OMG, you can't FORCE ME to share a society with your disgusting crotch goblins! You can't MAKE ME interact with MINORS against my WILL! Why are YOU PERSONALLY coming to my house and dropping off your screaming disgusting brat and disappearing, never to be seen again, and FORCING me to become this kid's new mother, which is a real thing I am somehow at risk of!

"And what do you mean, 'children are people'? You mean people you want to have SEX with, you pervert!? Why do you want children to be in society so bad, huh? So you can have ACCESS to them? For SEX? If I so much as GLIMPSE someone who might be under 30, I run a mile in the other direction, so there's no chance of having sex with them! Because I'm NORMAL!"

[tf2heritageposts]

gonna make a new post for it since the situation has changed but basically

hi i’m cheavy, host of a disabled transmasc system. we just escaped our abusive family with pretty much just the clothes on our back and our rabbit, and now have an apartment. we’re low on funds and we need to head by tomorrow for needed stuff(forks, bowls, blankets, pillows, clothing because we do not have any changes of pants and only three shirts, etc) and to try and get testerone at the planned parenthood nearby, as well as food of course.

we’re gonna try and get a job, but we’re pretty much gonna be living on mutual aid for a month until our girlfriend comes

kofi: https://ko-fi.com/tf2heritageposts

cashapp: $theteufortdozen

venmo: @ theteufortdozen

paypal: https://www.paypal.me/blucheavy3

gofundme: https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-a-trans-disabled-system-escape?utm_source=customer&utm_medium=copy_link&utm_campaign=p_lico+share-sheet-first-launch

please reblog if you can, once june comes around we’ll probably not need donations anymore

[moonlightwonu]

SVT Social Media AU Fic Recsᡣ𐭩

밤하늘 밝게 비춘 우리의 노랫소리 우리의 웃음소리~

Main Recs Masterlist

MINORS DNI!!!!!!!

Please like and reblog the fics to show the creators love and support~

Choi Seungcheol

“The Kids Are Going to be Alright” by @wondernus

Gn!reader || Found family, angst, fluff, humor || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･life as we know it (2010 film) au | when an unexpected accident leaves you and your blind date from five years ago to become caretakers of your mutual goddaughter, you are forced to learn how to navigate parenthood all while trying to balance work and social life. 

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Call You Tonight” by @woozvc

Gn!reader || High school au, fluff, angst || Status: Completed

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･choi seungcheol and y/n l/n are always fighting for the first spot in their class. what happens when they stand for student council president elections against each other? 

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“I Like You” by @taeyegu

Fem!reader || Hospital au, fluff, angst, she fell first he fell harder || Status: Completed

​​⋆.ೃ࿔*:･“i like you so much, i want to give you my everything, only for you…”(i like you, cho jung seok)

Kwon Soonyoung

“Love Hard” by @/wondernus

Gn!reader || Fluff, humor, romance || Status: Completed

​​⋆.ೃ࿔*:･kwon soonyoung loves too hard and falls in love too quickly, accidentally building a (very false!!!) fuckboy image that he can’t seem to get rid of. when his friends talk him out of proposing to a girl he went on 2 dates with, he finally realizes he has a big problem with love. signing up to appear on his university’s most popular youtube talk show to unload his baggage and fix his image? what could possibly go wrong?

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✮

“Domino” by @horangboosadan

Gn!reader || Romance, fluff || Status: Completed

​​⋆.ೃ࿔*:･A literature student with a procrastination problem and a dancing major who always says yes makes for an interesting combo of neither getting things done. It doesn’t help that there’s a best friend in the mix certain that the two will fall in love and makes sure they spend time together, only the two of them.  Somehow, every deadline is still met. Even the amount of time expected before the start of a developing crush.

Jeon Wonwoo

“Apartment 5C” [My comfort series ᡣ𐭩] by @suhnshinehaos

Gn!reader || University au, roommates au, fluff, slice of life, humor || Status: Completed

​​⋆.ೃ࿔*:･when yn’s exchange student roommates leave, they are left with the unfortunate task of finding a new place to stay. lucky for them, a room just opened up at apartment 5c, complete with the most interesting group of people they could ever hope to meet.

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“Introduce Me a Good Person” by @/taeyegu

Fem!reader || Hospital au, friends to lovers, fluff, angst || Status: Completed

​​⋆.ೃ࿔*:･“if there is a nice person, please introduce him to me. sometimes like water, sometimes like fire. someone who can love me sincerely. i hope he is someone who is mature and faithful…” (introduce me a good person, joy)

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“Light a Flame” @leewonkyeom

Fem!reader || University au, coffee shop au || Status: Completed

​​⋆.ೃ࿔*:･when your roommate quits his job at the coffee shop you frequent you never imagined the new guy would be hot or even your type. to make matters worse you both study law at the same university. your friends to try to convince you to get together with him. you try to convince them you just find him really nice... but are you able to convince yourself?

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“Bittersweet” by @networkluvs

Fem!reader || University au, roommates au, fake dating, enemies to lovers, fluff, angst, comedy || Status: Completed

​​⋆.ೃ࿔*:･in which y/n and wonwoo are forced to share an apartment in secret.

Lee Seokmin

“Me to You, You to Me” by @/taeyegu

Fem!reader || Hospital au, fluff, angst, enemies to lovers(?) || Status: Completed 

​​⋆.ೃ࿔*:･“to me, you became the one ray of sunshine that lit up my lonely hours gone by and became the promise of eternity that glitters like a jewel upon your small white palm...” (me to you, you to me, mido and falasol)

Chwe Hansol

“Accidentally in Love” by @/suhnshinehaos

Childhood best friends to lovers, fluff, little angst || Status: Completed

​​⋆.ೃ࿔*:･the one where you get into an arranged marriage with your childhood best friend vernon, but neither of you seem to mind that much

Multiple members 

“Lovestruck” [A5C special episodes] by @/suhnshinehaos

Gn!reader || junhui, soonyoung, jihoon || university au, fluff, slice of life, humor || Status: Completed

​​⋆.ೃ࿔*:･three short stories about the foolish things people tend to do for love. 

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“Growing Pains” by @/suhnshinehaos

97z x gn!reader || coming of age, angst, fluff, humor || Status: Completed

​​⋆.ೃ࿔*:･people say that you’ll experience three kinds of love in your lifetime. the first is an idealistic love, the kind that feels straight out of a fairy tale. the second is the hard love, the kind that will leave you with lessons about yourself and the love you want and need to experience. finally, the love you never see coming. this is the story of your three loves.

Unspecified End game

“You’re the Man” by @princessleechan

??? x afab!reader || She’s the man au. university au, humor, romance, crack, smut || Status: Completed

​​⋆.ೃ࿔*:･After your university cut your soccer team to prioritize the men’s team, it’s natural you have a falling out with your then soccer-star-player boyfriend and impersonate your twin brother at the rival university to play on their men’s team. Wait, it’s not? Oh well

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“Radio Star” by @got-svt

??? x f!reader || college au, slice of life, humor, fluff, angst || Status: Completed

​​⋆.ೃ࿔*:･when yn accepts a job at her campus’ radio station her first year in uni, she didn’t expect she’d be anonymously singing stressed out university students to sleep. Now, a year and a half in, she didn’t expect that there’d be people trying to figure out her identity either.

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“Keep it Fruity” by @cupidhaos

Maknae line x y/n || Status: Completed​​

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･what other way to spend your summer but on an orange farm surrounded by cute boys?

Please let me know if the links have any problems~

[mononijikayu]

i wanna be yours — ryomen sukuna.

He paused, the words catching in his throat as if they were foreign to him. “I cannot let you go.” You felt your resolve waver under the weight of his admission, the intensity of his gaze consuming you. “Then what do you want from me, my lord?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. His lips curled into a dangerous smirk, though his eyes betrayed a deeper emotion. “Everything, little one.” he said simply. “Your body, your thoughts, your heart. I will have it all, and I will never share it with another. I want it to be mine.” Your lips trembled as your eyes bore his own. “You already know that I am yours, my lord.”

GENRE: alternate universe - heian era;

WARNING/S: nsfw, smut, r-18, angst, one sided romance, conflicted feelings, hurt/no comfort, unhappy marriage, parenthood, forced parenthood, hurt, physical touch, character death, sexual acts, mourning, loneliness, pain, conflicted relationship, emotional distress, grief, toxic relationship, forced memory loss, coercion, explicit miscarriage, depiction of one-sided relationship, depiction of sexual acts, depiction of forced memory loss, depiction of coercion, depiction of explicit miscarriage, depiction of character death, depiction of grief, depiction of complicated relationship, depiction of parenthood, depiction of loneliness, mention of grief, mention of illness, mention of loneliness, mention of sexual acts, heian! sukuna, long suffering concubine! reader;

WORD COUNT: 19k words

NOTE: i thought about how concubine reader and sukuna have this really interesting relationship. a really interesting and painful relationship. and a lot of imbalances exist, with how sukuna has the most power. and he uses it to corrupt her. sukuna, no matter how much he loves concubine reader or make her happy, he will continue to hurt her and cause her grief. and next chapter, we will explore her response to it all, and how she rebels. and how sukuna concedes. in any case, thank you for reading!!! i love you all <3

TAGLIST: @after-laughter-come-tears, @kunasthiast, @midnight-138, @sukioyakio;

main masterlist

the other woman masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

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MANY YEARS OF MARRIAGE AND HE STILL HAS NOT FIGURED IT OUT. Ryomen Sukuna didn’t know how to put into words what churned within him when it came to you, his concubine.

You were his endless enigma wrapped in the finest of silks he could procure for you. You were a constant contradiction that pricked at the edges of his ego and lingered in the dark corners of his thoughts. 

He despised puzzles left unsolved, he hated things left undone. Yet you had become the one conundrum he could never crack. And for a long while, he had thought he would be content with that. But as the years went on, he felt maddened by it all. He didn’t know you well, not in the way he hoped. And that bothers him.

Do not get him wrong, he knew you. He knew you well enough that he had kept you around, that you were the only one that he’d ever let close, one that was never a servant. He knew every subtle glance, the cadence of your voice, the way your hands moved with grace even in the most mundane tasks.

He had memorized you like the pages of an ancient, weathered tome, and yet, for all the knowledge he’d gathered, there was something about you that evaded him. Something beyond the surface, just out of reach. It gnawed at him.

Was it fascination? Resentment? Or something far more dangerous—something he refused to name? He had thought, surely, the years would erode whatever this was. Time, after all, was the great equalizer, the eventual destroyer of all attachments. But you had not faded from his mind, nor had the mystery of you unraveled with the passage of time.

The more he let his thoughts drift to you, the more he realized it wasn’t just you he was trying to solve. It was what you made him feel, what it all meant. Was it a weakness? Power? The echo of something human he thought he had long buried? It infuriated him, how you lingered in his chest, a riddle left unanswered.

Even in the quiet hours, when no one else was watching, when his guard was down, he could never bring himself to face the truth. To admit that perhaps you were the one thing in his existence he couldn’t conquer, couldn’t master. And worse still, he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to.

Ryomen Sukuna sat upon his throne, the flickering light of the torches casting long shadows across the stone walls. His scarlet eyes, sharp and unyielding, rested on you as you poured his drink with practiced grace.

The delicate clink of the vessel against the rim of his cup seems louder than it should have, reverberating in the silence. You didn’t look at him directly—never did—but he could sense the weight of your presence, a quiet power wrapped in submission.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight, little one.” he said, his voice a low rumble, laced with something unreadable. “A rarity.”

Your hands paused for a fraction of a second before continuing. “Am I to speak freely, my lord?” you asked softly, eyes fixed on the task before you.

A smirk tugged at his lips. “You always choose your words carefully, don’t you? Go on, then. Speak.”

You straightened, meeting his gaze for the first time in what felt like an eternity. The torchlight painted you in warm hues, highlighting the determined tilt of your chin. “I only remain quiet because I sense you prefer it that way. Am I mistaken?”

Sukuna leaned back, swirling the liquid in his cup. “You assume much, little one.”

“And yet, I am still here.” Your tone was calm, almost resigned, but it carried an edge he couldn’t ignore.

His smirk faded. There it was again. That inexplicable thing about you that unraveled his carefully constructed walls. You, with your unassuming words and quiet defiance, managed to disrupt him in ways he couldn’t name.

“Do you think you’ve won some favor with me with such a thing?” he asked, tilting his head as he studied you. “That your loyalty earns you a place above the others?”

“No.” Your answer was immediate, your gaze steady. “I know better than to believe I have power over you, my lord. But I do wonder—why keep me? If I am just another servant, just another fleeting presence in your endless existence, why let me linger?”

His jaw tightened. The audacity of your words would have earned anyone else a swift and brutal end, yet he let you speak. Why? Even he didn’t know.

“You have too many curiosities, little one.” He says, eyeing you. His red meeting your own orbs. “Ones that would be hard to satisfy a mortal like you.”

You smiled, laying your hand on your lap. “I have stayed, my lord. Do you not think I would have left long ago, had there been no satisfaction? Even with my curiosities.”

“You presume too much about that, little one.” he growled, though his tone lacked the usual venom. “You are here because I allow it. That is all you need to understand.”

“And yet……” you took a small step closer, a dangerous glint in your eyes. “You never send me away. Or let me go. When there are so many opportunities, don’t you think?”

Silence fell between you, thick with unspoken truths. Sukuna’s gaze narrowed, his sharp features betraying nothing of the chaos within. He wanted to scoff, to crush this insolence with a flick of his fingers, but the words stuck in his throat. 

You were right. He had kept you close, far closer than anyone else. And it wasn’t out of need or convenience—it was something deeper, something he didn’t dare acknowledge. It was something that he’d rather not touch upon. Not if he wants to dig a hole of possibilities he had no answers for.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, little one.” he warned, his voice a low growl.

“I only play the game you started, my lord.”

His scarlet eyes bored into yours, searching for something he couldn’t name. You stood your ground, unflinching, and for a moment, he thought he hated you for it. Hated how you made him feel… exposed. Mortal.

But instead of lashing out, he laughed. That same cold, bitter sound that echoed through the chamber. You were too familiar with it by now. “You’re a fool if you think this ends in your favor.”

“And you, my lord, are a fool if you think you’ll ever solve me. In the way you wish.” you replied, voice steady and soft, like a whisper cutting through the storm. “Fate does not work in that way.”

A sly grin appears on his lips. “Perhaps that is the case, little one. But I am no fool.”

You raised a brow, intrigued. “Oh, then what are you, my lord?”

“A husband who is intrigued about his wife.” He whispers back to you.

For a moment, your eyes blinked at his words.

Soon enough, laughter permeates through your lips.

He was fond of the sound, truthfully enough.

“You lie as easily as you breathe.” You whisper back to him, a soft ghostly smile on your lips. “My lord, I thought you only said the truth.”

He would not say anything else more, he thinks.

Ryomen Sukuna watched as you downed a cup of sake.

It was better to not dig through the mess, not at all.

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YOU OPTED OUT OF THE SESSION IN THE AUDIENCE HALL TODAY. Sukuna had sent quite a word about it , but you knew he truly did not mind. You knew him too well, that words were more or less just what it would be.

He knew you needed a break, to breathe after such a hectic schedule with him. Not to mention that you took care of Chiharu and Chizuru at the same time all on your own, and managed Vermillion Hall by yourself. It was not easy. You needed the rest. And you were glad your husband knew that. 

The sun had already begun to dip lower in the sky, casting a warm glow across the Vermillion Hall. The soft hum of activity filled the air as the children were off in their lessons, their laughter and chatter drifting faintly through the hall’s open windows. The usually peaceful atmosphere was, for once, undisturbed, and yet, it felt different today. 

There was a presence in the hall that hadn't been there before—the presence of Ryomen Sukuna. But you hadn’t noticed yet. Not that he expected you to. He doesn’t visit often enough as of late to find him here. He was too dedicated to other pursuits. 

You were seated by the large window, a small wooden sewing table in front of you. The soft rustle of fabric and the rhythmic motion of your hands as you carefully worked on the intricate stitching of Sukuna's new haori made the room feel calm, despite the tension that always seemed to linger between you two. 

It wasn’t the first time you had sewn clothes for him and it wouldn’t be the last. You were the only one now left making his clothing for him. You knew what he had liked, so there was no one else who did that for him.

Everyone else’s hands were not to touch his clothing, unless to wash it. And now that his previous haori had been torn and tattered from battles, you found the need to make a new one for him.  

You were halfway through adding delicate embroidery when you heard the heavy footsteps. This is only when you heard that sound that you felt something was amiss. You didn’t look up immediately, your fingers still moving across the fabric, your mind focused on the delicate task in front of you.

You could feel his presence, though heavy and undeniable. Finally, after a moment of silence, you heard his voice, low and unhurried, as though he had no reason to be anything but calm.

"Still sewing clothes for me, are you, little one?" His voice carried a hint of amusement, though there was an undercurrent of something else in it, something almost like... curiosity?

You glanced up, meeting his gaze with a faint but questioning look. "It’s not like you’ll bother to do it yourself, my lord. You had taken the liberty of demoting all your sewing servants, other than me." you replied dryly, your eyes moving back to the thread as you continued to stitch. 

Sukuna snickers. “It is no fault of mine that they are inept at the task you do so well at. Though, I should think you would be resting more today, little one.”

"I had done all my tasks rather easily, my lord.” You tell him honestly, poking the needle through again. “And with such time, I figured it would be better for you to have something... new. I cannot keep mending that one you like so much forever."

Sukuna chuckled softly, his deep voice vibrating through the room. “You’re trying to make me more presentable, are you?” He stepped closer, his gaze following your hands as you worked. "It’s a little late for that, don’t you think? Today’s audiences have been dealt with, little one."

The tone in his voice wasn’t mocking, though—it wasn’t quite the usual arrogance you’d expect from him. Instead, it was something more playful, more curious. Something that hinted at an understanding that wasn’t quite there before. Your husband, you find, has been playful when he wants to be. But that often is a rarity done in good faith.

"Maybe so, my lord." you said softly, your fingers never pausing in their work. "But I thought it might be nice for a change. For the next audience Tis better dealt with now then left for next."

His gaze softened slightly at that, though he remained silent for a long moment, watching you as you worked, the fabric between your fingers so delicate, your focus so intense. For the first time in a long while, it seemed like Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t entirely sure how to respond.

“You’ve been quiet, little one.” he remarked after a moment, his voice not quite as sharp as it usually was. "Too quiet. What’s on your mind?"

You paused briefly, meeting his gaze for a moment before looking back at the haori in your lap. The question was unexpected, but not unwelcome. It felt like the first time in ages that he actually wanted to know. 

"Just thinking, my lord." you said, your voice low. "About everything, really. The way things have... changed."

His expression darkened a fraction, but the concern he tried to hide didn’t escape your notice. “Changed?” His gaze narrowed slightly as he stepped closer. “In what way?”

You took a breath, the words coming slower than you intended. "I think... I think I’ve spent so much time trying to keep everything together, trying to make sense of it. But sometimes, I don’t even know where I am anymore." 

You didn’t look up, but your voice carried a strange, vulnerable edge now—something raw that you hadn't meant to reveal. “I never asked for this. For you. For any of this. I think about that as I get older. And of course, I am content but I….”

Sukuna remained silent, and for once, you didn’t hear the usual sneer in his voice or the biting comment ready to spill from his lips. He was quiet, studying you with a strange intensity, as though searching for something he couldn’t quite understand.

"I know, little one." he said finally, his voice softer than usual, but still carrying that familiar weight. "It’s never been easy for you. I get that."

You finally looked up, meeting his gaze directly. There was no arrogance in his eyes now, no unreadable distance. Just something... real. "Do you?" you asked quietly, searching his expression. “Do you really? Because sometimes I feel like I’m just some… some afterthought to you. A thing you can’t quite get rid of, but can’t quite leave alone either.”

Sukuna blinked at your words, and though his face remained unreadable, there was a flicker of something—guilt, regret, maybe even something deeper passing through his scarlet eyes. He stepped closer, his usual intimidating presence now softened, as though in the presence of your vulnerability, he couldn’t bring himself to hold onto the same unyielding stance.

“I don’t know what I’m doing half the time, little one. Even gods are such creatures.” he said quietly, his voice lower now. “I don’t know how to make it right. But I’m not leaving. Nor shall I abandon or forsake you. You ought to know that by now, little one.”

You sighed, poking another hole onto the fabric. “You sent one of the concubines to the Cold Hall, my lord. To be abandoned till she dies.”

“For a fault of her own, harming another woman in the harem.” He shakes his head at you. “You have not done such a thing. I swear that it won't happen to you. Not in your whole life.”

“How is my lord so certain to promise—” You pricked your finger, causing you to groan. You quickly move the fabric away, to avoid the blood pouring onto the fabric. 

Sukuna sighs and crouches over to you, taking your hand onto his own big one. He takes the bleeding finger close to his lips and lets the taste of your metallic blood echo onto his tongue. Your blood has always been so sweet to Sukuna, so smooth and tender. It was honest blood. Blood which has never done any wrong against anyone or anything. 

Not even him, who has made you ever so miserable. You frowned at his act. But sooner or later, the blood isn’t pouring anymore. You take your hand off his own, muttering a small thank you as you continue to work on the haori, much more careful this time.

“You raised my child, you bore me a son. And you are close by my side at all times, doing as you are told. You won’t suffer such fate and this is proof.”

“But what if I…..”

He sighed, letting his hand rest upon your head. “You will not. For all your life, you will live well. Do not over think, little one. It shall cost more of your beauty.”

You could feel your cheeks flustered with warm scarlet. You cannot look at him, or he’ll see the extent of your reddened face.  “M–my lord, if I am pricked once more—”

His gaze softened as he stood next to you, watching the way your hands moved over the fabric with quiet concentration. “Shall I make a binding vow to you, little one? I swear to you, you would not suffer in such a way.”

You couldn’t tell if he was being honest or if this was just another of his strange ways of trying to explain himself. Sukuna was never one for soft words, never one to lay himself bare.

But there was something in the way he stood there, looking at you, something that told you he wasn’t just trying to placate you. He meant it—at least, in his own way.

You sighed, putting the needle down for a moment. “I don’t know what you want from me, my lord.” you muttered, your voice almost lost in the quiet of the room. “I don’t know what I want either.”

Sukuna didn’t answer immediately, instead watching you with a quiet intensity. His gaze softened, and after a long moment, he placed a hand on the edge of the table, his fingers just brushing the fabric of the haori.

“I can’t give you the answers you want, not in a way that would make you happy. Not in ways that would make it easier.” he said finally, his voice almost regretful. “But we will not part. I shall stand by you as you stand with me, little one. If that means anything to you.”

The words hung in the air between you two, and for a long time, neither of you spoke. The tension that had always existed between you both seemed to lessen, if only for a moment. Perhaps there was no grand gesture of reconciliation, no magic words that could undo the past. But for now, this quiet understanding was enough.

Sukuna finally took a step back, his usual air of control slowly creeping back. But the softness in his gaze remained. “Finish the haori, little one.” he said, his voice commanding, though not unkind. "I’ll wear it soon enough."

You nodded silently, and as he turned to leave, you couldn’t help but wonder, just for a fleeting moment, whether things between the two of you might one day be different.

Whether Sukuna would ever truly change. Whether he could be more than who you know he already is. You purse your lips into a flat line, trying to focus on your stitches once more.

You would think about him for the whole night, you think to yourself.

You could not get him out of your mind for one second, even in bed.

But one thing’s for certain to you — your husband lies as much as he breathes.

Even if you love him, he will not love you in the way you want him to.

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HE HAD SUMMONED YOU TO JOIN HIM FOR A DRINK. But it was quite obvious to you when you arrived that your husband was already far too deep into his drink already. You sighed, noticing a blue liquor.

Ah, the one Uraume prepares for him. This was the only alcohol that could get your husband drunk. He was immune to anything else. But this lets him feel human in his godly state. It makes him feel relieved. To be drunk on something even once in a while.

Sukuna's gaze lingered on you for a moment as you bowed. Everything about his expression was unreadable, yet there was something in his dark scarlet eyes. Something dangerous and raw. He raises his hand, letting you be at ease. You start to approach him with swift grace.

He hated how his thoughts betrayed him, wandering to places he had sworn to bury. Foolish. That’s what it was. Foolish and beneath him to feel this… guilt, this yearning that clawed at him like a curse more potent than any he could wield.

He had been alive far too long, seen far too much. He should have been immune to such petty human feelings by now. Desires, cravings…they were remnants of a man he had left behind when he ascended to godhood. 

And yet, when he thought of you, when his mind wandered to the softness of your body pressed against his, the warmth of that night you lay tangled together, he could feel something crack beneath his skin.

He thought he’d outgrown it, thought he’d buried whatever mortal part of him still dared to want. But it hadn’t stopped. It had only shifted, mutating into something darker, deeper.

His body betrayed him, aching with a hunger he despised. The memory of your touch, the way your smaller frame molded against his, haunted him in ways nothing else ever had.

You were a puzzle, you perhaps always will be to him. And that he could admit, was his  fleeting moment of weakness. He wanted more of you, a complete picture and now he couldn’t seem to erase that desire. He cannot quell his desires and he hates it. He despises himself over it. 

He remembered every detail of that night. The way your breaths hitched when his hands roamed over you, the softness of your skin beneath his calloused fingers. How you’d fit against him, fragile yet unyielding.

Somehow, you can tell that it was a stark contrast to his overwhelming presence. You were something too special, something he wants to taint and ruin, someone he wants to consume whole.

It was intoxicating, the memory of it. He remembers them without fail, even in a state like this. The way you surrendered without fear, how you looked at him as though he wasn’t a god or a monster, but just… a man. He hated that. Hated the vulnerability it pulled from him, the reminder that he was once human too.

Sukuna clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palms as if the pain could anchor him. He shouldn’t think of you this way, shouldn’t allow himself to feel this way.

But no matter how much he tried to suppress it, the truth clawed its way to the surface. He wanted you. Not just in the fleeting, carnal way he could dismiss. No, this was deeper.

And it infuriated him.

"Little one." he said suddenly, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. You turned to him, startled by the abruptness of his tone, but there was no mistaking the heat in his gaze.

“Yes, my lord?” you asked, your voice careful, cautious.

He rose from his throne, the sheer power of his presence making the air around you feel heavier. He took a step closer, towering over you, his dark eyes darkened by something primal. His hand reached out, rough fingers brushing against your cheek before he seemed to catch himself. He let it fall back to his side, jaw tightening.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" he murmured, his voice low and dangerous, like the rumble of distant thunder.

You blinked, stunned by the admission. “My lord, I—”

"Silence, little one." he growled, his eyes narrowing. "Don’t speak unless I tell you to."

The command was sharp, but his hand trembled slightly before he curled it into a fist. He hated himself in that moment, hated how much power you had over him without even trying.

You were like a little doe, the way you looked at him. Almost so demure and helpless. And yet, you had the most power over him, now that Hiromi was dead. And he didn’t want to admit it. He didn’t want to admit that truth.

“I thought it had ended, little one.” he continued, more to himself than to you. “This… weakness. This need for something so fleeting. Yet here I am, craving you like a man, not a god. How pathetic.”

Your lips parted, but you said nothing, sensing that this moment was not yours to interrupt. Sukuna’s gaze dropped to the floor for a fraction of a second before returning to yours, molten gold locking with your wide eyes.

“Tell me, little one.” he commanded, his voice softer now, though no less intense. “Do you feel it too? Or am I the only one foolish enough to burn for something I can never truly have?”

The question hung heavy in the air, a challenge and a confession all at once. Your breath hitched as his words settled in, the weight of them pressing against you like his looming presence. Sukuna had never been one to lay himself bare, yet here he stood, his gaze cutting through you with the intensity of a man teetering on the edge of restraint.

You swallowed hard, unsure if it was bravery or recklessness that made you speak. “My lord, I…..” you began carefully, voice trembling but steady. You swallow the bile down your throat. “It would be a lie to say I haven’t thought of that night. To say I haven’t felt… something for you.”

His eyes darkened, the faintest flicker of something. Was it satisfaction, perhaps? Was it a desire which was crossing his face? He stepped closer, the space between you almost nonexistent. You could feel the heat radiating from him, his presence overwhelming.

“You have, then?” he murmured, his voice low, almost a growl. “You’ve thought of me… of us?”

“Yes, my lord….” you admitted, your heart pounding in your chest. “But I—”

“But what?” he interrupted, his tone sharp, his hand reaching up to grip your chin gently, forcing you to look at him. “You think I don’t see it in your eyes? The way you tremble when I’m near, yet you never pull away. You deny me nothing, yet you still hesitate to admit what you want.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, steadying yourself against the storm that was Sukuna. “I hesitate, my lord.” you said softly, your lips quivering. “Because I don’t know if what you want from me is real, or if I’m just another fleeting indulgence for you. A distraction.”

His grip tightened ever so slightly, his jaw clenching as if your words had struck a nerve. “Do you think I am a god who indulges in meaningless distractions?” he asked, his voice dangerously quiet. “Do you think I would allow myself to feel this, to want—if it were something I could so easily discard, little one? Do you think of me that way?”

You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze once more. There was something raw in his expression, something vulnerable that he tried to mask with his usual arrogance. It was startling, and it sent a shiver down your spine.

“I don’t know what you feel, my lord.” you whispered, your voice trembling now. “You are a god, my god. A force beyond comprehension. How could I ever understand what I mean to you, knowing how far away you are?”

Sukuna let out a low, bitter laugh, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “You think too much, little one.” he said, his tone softer now, though his scarlet eyes remained intense. “I’ve spent centuries trying to rid myself of weakness, yet here you are, the one thing I cannot escape. You plague me, little one, and I despise it as much as I crave it.”

The confession sent a jolt through you, and before you could stop yourself, your hand reached up, lightly resting on his wrist. The contact seemed to startle him, his eyes narrowing as if to assess your boldness. But he didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin.

“You are mine, little one.” he murmured, his voice low and possessive. “Whether you believe it or not, whether you understand it or not….you belong to me. And I—” He paused, the words catching in his throat as if they were foreign to him. “I cannot let you go.”

You felt your resolve waver under the weight of his admission, the intensity of his gaze consuming you. “Then what do you want from me, my lord?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

His lips curled into a dangerous smirk, though his eyes betrayed a deeper emotion. “Everything, little one.” he said simply. “Your body, your thoughts, your heart. I will have it all, and I will never share it with another. I want it to be mine.”

Your lips trembled as your eyes bore his own. “You already know that I am yours, my lord.”

The declaration was both a promise and a warning, and as his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, you realized there was no escaping him. Not now. Not ever. He had killed and he had harmed. You do not take his threat lightly. You do not take his confession lightly.

Sukuna’s hand slid to the back of your neck, his grip firm and unyielding as he pulled you closer. His touch burned like fire, his fingers tangling in your hair as he forced you to look up at him. There was no hesitation in his movements, no softness in his gaze. The air between you was charged, thick with the weight of emotions neither of you dared to name.

“You drive me to madness, little one.” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “Do you even understand what you’ve done to me?”

Before you could answer, his lips crashed against yours, rough and demanding, stealing the breath from your lungs. It wasn’t gentle. Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t gentle. It was raw, primal, and overwhelming.

It was as if he was trying to claim you with every ounce of his being. His free arm snaked around your waist, pulling you flush against his powerful frame, your smaller body dwarfed by his overwhelming presence.

You gasped against his mouth, the sheer intensity of him leaving you breathless. His kiss was fierce, filled with pent-up desire and frustration, a battle for dominance you knew you couldn’t win. His sharp teeth grazed your bottom lip, a warning and a tease all at once.

Your hands instinctively gripped his robes, desperate for something to anchor you as the world seemed to tilt. You felt his chest rumble against yours, a deep growl escaping him as if your touch only fueled his hunger.

When he finally pulled back, his lips hovered just above yours, his breath hot and ragged. His scarlet eyes bore into yours, wild and unrestrained. “You are mine, little one.” he rasped, his voice rough with emotion. “Do you understand? No one else. Ever.”

You swallowed hard, your own breathing uneven as you tried to process the intensity of what had just happened. “I…”

Words failed you, your thoughts scrambled, but the look in his eyes demanded an answer. He wants what he wants, your husband. He was never coy with it. And that intimidated you. That burned you. And that made your heart beat, over and over.

“Yes, my lord.” you whispered finally, your voice trembling but resolute. “I’m yours. Always.”

A dangerous smile curved his lips, and his hold on you tightened. “Good.” he murmured, his voice dark and possessive. “Because I won’t let you go. Not now. Not ever.”

His lips descended on yours again, and this time, you didn’t resist. Instead, you gave yourself to him, surrendering to the storm that was Sukuna, knowing that there was no turning back

Sukuna didn’t stop. He couldn’t—no, he wouldn’t. The intensity of his desire had festered too long, clawing at him in the quiet moments, haunting him in the shadows. Now, with you in his grasp, his need consumed him entirely, and he refused to let anything hold him back.

His lips moved against yours with bruising force, his kiss deep and possessive, leaving no room for hesitation. His hands roamed your body, one gripping your waist as if to anchor you to him.

The other sliding up to cradle the back of your head. He tilted your face to deepen the kiss, his sharp teeth grazing your lips again, a feral growl rumbling in his chest.

You felt overwhelmed, every inch of your skin alight with his touch. His energy was raw and almost suffocating. Everything about it surged through you, leaving no part of you unaffected.

Despite his roughness, there was something deliberate in his actions, as if he were memorizing every curve, every shiver, every gasp you gave him. He broke the kiss just enough to look at you, his scarlet eyes darkened with unbridled hunger. His chest heaved as he fought to rein in the storm raging within him.

“You’re trembling, little one.” he muttered, his voice rough yet tinged with something almost tender. “Are you afraid?”

You hesitated, your lips swollen and breath shaky. “No, my lord.” you answered softly, your voice wavering. “Not afraid.”

His eyes narrowed, as if testing the truth of your words. “Then why do you shake?” he demanded, his thumb brushing along your jawline, a rare gentleness in the gesture that only made his intensity more suffocating. “Is it because of me? Because of what I make you feel?”

You nodded, unable to deny him even if you wanted to. “Yes, my lord.” you whispered, the confession slipping from your lips before you could think twice.

His smirk returned, sharp and dangerous, but there was a flicker of something softer beneath it. It was pride, satisfaction, maybe even relief. His cheeks were red, flushed in the echoes of the drink.

“Good, little one.” he said, his voice a low rumble. “You should feel it. All of it. Because I intend to show you just how deeply I’ve burned for you.”

Before you could respond, Sukuna scooped you up effortlessly, cradling you against his chest as though you weighed nothing. His hold on you was possessive, tightly locking you.

Every bit of his movements deliberate as he carried you toward the large bed at the far side of the chamber. The world seemed to blur around you, the air crackling with his power and your own anticipation.

He placed you down gently. It was an unexpected contrast to his earlier roughness but the way his hands lingered on your body betrayed the restraint he was barely holding onto. He loomed over you, his shadow swallowing you whole, his predatory gaze drinking in the sight of you beneath him.

“You don’t understand what you do to me, little one.” he said, his voice low and almost vulnerable, a confession meant only for you. “But tonight, you will. Tonight, you’ll feel it—the depth of my hunger, my desire. All of it.”

You shivered at his words, your heart racing as his hands found you again, pulling you closer to the god who had claimed you as his own. You wrapped your arms around him and let him do what he willed with you.

This is how you worshiped him, your god. You let him ruin you, you let him take it all away from you. No matter what, you’ll worship him. Even if it hurts you in the end.

══════════════════

IT WAS BITTER TO FEEL THIS IN THE MORNING. Ryomen Sukuna’s shoulders slumped as he sat on the edge of the bed, his hand cradling his forehead as though it could ease the storm brewing within him.

The room was dimly lit, the morning sun barely filtering through the heavy curtains, casting long shadows that seemed to mirror his turmoil. He glanced back at you, your form barely stirring under the silk sheets, a picture of innocence amidst the chaos he had wrought.

The guilt clawed at him like a relentless beast, tearing into the very essence of him. He had told himself countless times before that he was beyond redemption, that the sins of his godhood were unerasable.

Yet, every time he saw you lying beside him, your face softened by the vulnerability of sleep, the weight of his choices bore down on him tenfold. How innocent you looked. Almost like the most ethereal creature born to man.

And he's hurting you. He's hurt you. And he knew, it would break you. He'd done it before. He knew that. Sukuna's hands traced against his tightening jaw. How could he have done this to you?

He thought of Hiromi again, the one constant ghost that haunted him. Her face was as vivid in his mind as it had been centuries ago. The way she had looked at him with a love that had defied his monstrous nature was a memory he could never shake.

He had betrayed her over and over again, and yet her phantom presence lingered, a painful reminder of what he had lost and what he continued to desecrate.

She deserved better. And now, so do you.

His jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists. No matter how much he wanted to justify his actions, he couldn’t escape the truth: he was selfish. He was a god who took what he wanted, who carved his desires into the world without regard for the aftermath.

But with you, it felt different. He wasn’t just stealing your body; he was robbing you of your peace, your freedom. You were becoming a reflection of the torment that plagued him, and he hated himself for it.

Uraume’s earlier hesitation gnawed at him, too. They had served him faithfully for centuries, never questioning his orders. But the way their eyes lingered on you this morning, filled with something bordering on pity, unsettled him. Even they, loyal to a fault, could see the weight of his selfishness pressing down on you.

As the door closed softly behind Uraume, Sukuna let out a low, frustrated groan. His hand reached out once more, hovering just above your sleeping form, but he couldn’t bring himself to touch you. The memory of your soft breaths against his skin, the warmth of your body entwined with his, lingered, mocking him. He craved it, and yet he despised himself for it.

This is for the best, he repeated to himself, though the mantra felt like ash in his mouth. You’ll be free. You’ll forget me, forget this moment and this pain will fade.

But as he stared at you, your peaceful expression threatening to break the last vestiges of his resolve, doubt crept in. Could he truly let you go, even if it meant erasing everything you shared? Was it really for you—or was it just another way to escape his guilt, to absolve himself of the burden of your misery?

Sukuna clenched his teeth, the internal battle raging louder than ever. His fingers twitched as he fought the urge to wake you, to hear your voice, to feel your touch just one more time.

He knew it was selfish, but the thought of you looking at him with those same accusing eyes, those eyes that didn’t understand why he had to do this—that was unbearable.

The door creaked open, and Uraume entered silently, a small vial in their hands. They approached cautiously, bowing low as they held it out to him. Sukuna took it without a word, his fingers tightening around the glass. The liquid inside glimmered faintly, deceptively harmless, yet it carried the power to wipe away everything.

Uraume glanced at you again, their expression unreadable, before speaking softly. “Are you certain, my lord?”

Sukuna’s scarlet eyes flicked to them, sharp and unyielding, though his voice betrayed a hint of hesitation. “Do not question me, Uraume.”

They bowed deeply once more, retreating without another word. The door clicked shut, leaving Sukuna alone with you again. He turned the vial over in his hands, the faint clink of the liquid inside echoing in the silent chamber. His gaze drifted back to you, his expression torn, raw in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in centuries.

“I am a fool.” he muttered under his breath, his voice bitter. “A selfish, wretched fool.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, the vial dangling loosely between his fingers. The weight of the decision crushed him, every fiber of his being warring against itself. To let you forget would be to set you free, but it would also mean losing the only thing that had made him feel alive in eons. 

To let you remember would be to keep you bound to him, drowning alongside him in his endless torment. Ryomen Sukuna closed his eyes, exhaling shakily. He didn’t know what he hated more—the thought of losing you or the thought of keeping you. 

He was willing to take the risk of it all, if he was being honest.

He would rather let a lie continue, memories fade away forever;

He would rather do all the nasty things in this world, than lose you.

Everything else was better than finding you drowning with him like this.

══════════════════

THE MOMENT YOU WOKE UP, YOU REMEMBERED NOTHING. The memory of that night was elusive, like a fleeting shadow slipping between the cracks of your mind. You tried to recall it all from last night. Why did you end up taking your slumber in Heaven’s Hall instead of Vermillion Hall? Why had you fallen so sore and exhausted? What happened last night? 

You had pushed yourself to remember each and every time. But with all those attempts to do so left you with nothing but vague impressions. Perhaps you had been too tired to think clearly. Perhaps it wasn’t worth remembering. You had probably gotten so drunk and blacked out. Oh no, had you caused a scene? You were horrified about it all. 

You had hoped that it was going to come back to you once you have rested, once you had groomed yourself out of the mess of alcohol’s scent. Still, something about it lingered, a faint unease that you couldn’t quite place. You couldn’t piece it together and that makes you mad at yourself. How could you let this happen? How could you not remember anything?

Still, life moves forward. Your days carried on with a semblance of normalcy. The servants bustled about, tending to their endless duties, their chatter filling the quiet corners of the palace. You found comfort in routine, spending your hours with Chiharu and Chizuru, who had become your closest companions. 

Chiharu’s bright laughter and Chizuru’s sharp sense of humor made the days easier, their presence grounding you in a way Sukuna never had. In some ways, your joy comes from being their mother more than being Sukuna’s wife. Perhaps you had noticed that more and more now that your husband was too busy ignoring you again.

Yet, despite your efforts to immerse yourself in the calm, Ryomen Sukuna’s absence hung over you like a shadow. He had always been a looming presence in your life—commanding, unpredictable, impossible to ignore. But now, it was as if he had disappeared entirely. He no longer sought you out, no longer invaded your space with his suffocating intensity.

At first, you were relieved. His distance gave you a peace you hadn’t known in years. You could breathe without the weight of his gaze, could think without the distraction of his proximity. You liked the quiet. You needed it.

But as the days turned into weeks, you began to notice the emptiness his absence left behind. It wasn’t longing, not in the way you might have expected. It was something else; a nagging curiosity, an itch in the back of your mind that refused to be ignored.

Why had he stopped?

You replayed your last interactions with him over and over, searching for clues. Had you said something to offend him? Have you done something wrong? Or was this simply another one of his whims, a fleeting disinterest that would fade as quickly as it had come?

One afternoon, as you sat in the garden with Chiharu and Chizuru, the questions weighed heavier than usual. The soft rustling of leaves and the distant hum of insects filled the air, a perfect backdrop for the idle conversation that flowed between your companions.

“The plum blossoms are so beautiful this year, mother.” Chiharu said, her voice bright with excitement. She leaned forward, her fingers brushing the delicate petals of a nearby branch. “Don’t you think so?”

“They’re the same every year, nee–sama.” Chizuru replied, rolling his eyes with a teasing smile. “You act as if it’s your first time seeing them.”

Chiharu pouted at her younger brother. “Well, maybe you’re just too jaded to appreciate them anymore, little brother!”

“Nee-sama, take that back!

“No, I won’t!”

Their banter usually brought a smile to your face, but today, their words barely registered. Your gaze drifted to the distant silhouette of Heaven’s Hall, its grandeur standing in stark contrast to the serenity of the garden. You couldn’t shake the feeling that it held answers to the questions swirling in your mind.

“Are you all right, mother?” Chiharu’s voice broke through your thoughts, drawing your attention back to her concerned expression. “You seem… distracted.”

You forced a smile. “I’m fine. Just tired, I suppose.”

Chizuru narrowed his eyes, his sharp gaze cutting through your facade. He looked almost like his father at that moment.  “Tired, or thinking about something you don’t want to say, mother?”

You shook your head, brushing off her words with a light laugh. “Nothing worth mentioning, my little love. Really.”

But as the conversation resumed, your thoughts wandered once more. Later, as you walked back to your quarters alone, your steps slowed as you neared Heaven’s Hall. The towering structure loomed ahead, its marble pillars catching the fading light of the setting sun.

You stopped, your gaze lingering on the grand doors. Something about it unsettled you, yet it also pulled at you, as if it held the answers you sought. You could almost hear the faint echo of footsteps, the ghost of something forgotten stirring in the corners of your mind.

Your hand twitched at your side, a part of you tempted to step inside, to confront whatever it was that refused to let you go. But you hesitated, the weight of uncertainty holding you back.

With a shake of your head, you turned away, forcing your feet to carry you toward Vermillion Hall. It was better not to know, you told yourself. Sukuna’s silence was a gift, a reprieve from his consuming presence. You weren’t foolish enough to disrupt it.

And yet, as the days stretched on, the questions only grew louder, pressing against your thoughts with an intensity you couldn’t ignore. What had happened that night? Why had everything changed so suddenly?

Most of all, why did it feel like Sukuna’s absence was not just a relief, but a mystery begging to be unraveled?

The day had passed uneventfully, filled with the usual duties at the main temple. You had grown accustomed to these quiet, almost meditative tasks: managing the offerings, overseeing the attendants, ensuring everything ran smoothly.

It was a peaceful life, one that was slowly allowing you to forget the intensity of the emotions that once surrounded Sukuna.

But today, the quiet seemed more oppressive than comforting, the silence pressing in around you like a weight. The questions still clung to the back of your mind, refusing to be silenced.

After completing your tasks, you found yourself seeking out Uraume. They were a quiet figure, always observing, always present but rarely speaking. Perhaps they could provide some insight into the strange distance Sukuna had placed between you.

They had been in his service long enough to know when something was amiss, and their loyalty to him was unwavering. Surely, if anyone knew what had happened, it would be Uraume.

You found them in a quiet hallway, their eyes momentarily lifting from the scroll they were reading as they noticed you approaching. Their expression remained neutral, but there was an unreadable glint in their eyes.

“Uraume.” you started, keeping your voice even. “I wanted to ask you about something. Something… personal.”

Uraume tilted their head slightly, studying you. They were always cautious around you, as though they knew that even the slightest change in your tone could signal a question they didn’t want to answer.

"What is it you wish to know, my lady?" they asked carefully, their voice soft but calculated.

You hesitated, unsure how to approach the subject without making it too obvious. But there was no time for half-measures now. You needed to know.

“That night… in Heaven’s Hall. I don’t remember much. But I know something happened. Between me and my lord. I need to understand. I need help to remember. So, if you would….please help me regain—”

Uraume's gaze shifted, their eyes briefly flicking away. For a moment, you wondered if they would say anything at all. But then they met your gaze again, a small frown tugging at the corners of their mouth. 

"My lord’s affairs are not for me to discuss with others, my lady." they replied, their tone so measured it almost felt rehearsed. "I do not know what you speak of."

The response stung, more than you expected. It wasn’t just the refusal to answer; it was the certainty in their voice, the unyielding loyalty that seemed to close off any hope of learning the truth. You swallowed the frustration rising in your chest, trying to push it back, but it simmered nonetheless.

"Uraume, I—" you began, but they had already turned their gaze away, as though the conversation was over. 

They bowed slightly, the gesture polite but distant. "If that is all, my lady, I have matters to attend to."

Your chest tightened as they made to leave, and for a moment, you considered pressing further. But something told you it would be futile. Uraume was loyal to Sukuna above all else, and their silence wasn’t accidental—it was a guard, a wall you couldn’t break. You cannot expect someone like them to choose you over their master.

Feeling the weight of your unanswered questions settle heavier on you, you turned and walked away, your thoughts swirling with a mix of irritation and confusion. The frustration you’d been pushing down surged to the surface, bubbling up in a sharp, bitter wave.

As you rounded a corner, you caught a glimpse of something that made your heart skip a beat.

From a distance, near the large pillars that lined the edge of the courtyard, you saw him. 

Ryomen Sukuna, with his dark eyes boring into your figure.

Your lord husband was watching you, with such focus.

His gaze was steady, his scarlet eyes locked onto you with an intensity that was unmistakable. There was no mistaking the weight of it, even from a distance. The way his eyes pinned you in place, as if he could see through every thought, every feeling you were trying to hide.

You stopped in your tracks. For a split second, it felt as if time slowed, the space between you and him stretching. Your breath caught in your throat as you instinctively felt the pull of his gaze, the silent command it carried. It was as if he were drawing you in, pulling you closer without saying a word.

But you couldn’t stay. You couldn’t approach him—not when everything felt so… unfinished, so raw. The frustration from your encounter with Uraume flared inside you, and the last thing you wanted was to face Sukuna with that vulnerability hanging over you. Not when he seemed to be watching you with that same detached, unreadable expression.

You didn’t wait a second longer. You turned quickly, your steps brisk as you made your way down the hall, away from his gaze, away from whatever strange pull he had over you. Your heart raced, but you couldn’t stop yourself. You had to leave before you did something foolish.

But even as you hurried down the hall, you couldn’t escape the feeling that Sukuna’s eyes never left your back.

══════════════════

RYOMEN SUKUNA CAN’T HELP IT. The smell of you that remained on this silk handkerchief was powerful. He can’t stop. Not right now. Not at this moment. The silken fabric glides over Sukuna’s fingertips, its delicate touch igniting a shiver that travels through him, a contrast to the hard lines of his frame. 

The room feels smaller, darker, as he leans into the sensation, pressing the silk to his face and inhaling slowly. The scent is intoxicating, carrying the essence of you. Something warm, elusive, and utterly tormenting. His dark scarlet eyes flutter shut as a sigh parts his lips, betraying the barrier he usually holds so tightly.

Every breath feels heavier, resonating with the silent thrum beneath his skin, a rhythm that’s more than just desire. Everything about it was a pull that shakes his control. He drags the fabric down the line of his jaw, its whisper against his skin making his pulse quicken. 

He could feel the closeness and yet distance of you driving him deeper into the edge of yearning. His own touch is rougher now, less restrained as he presses the silk to the hollow of his throat, feeling the heat rise within him, warmth spreading like a slow burn.

A groan escapes, low and gravelly, as if torn from the depths of him, echoing in the silence. The sensation of his hands moving, the silk brushing over his chest and further, turns into a private ritual of surrender.

Each sweep of the fabric sparks against nerves like embers. The ghostly presence of you envelops him, the way you would breathe against his skin, the way your fingertips would linger with a feather-light tease.

The complexity of it all is the very reason he won’t dare cross the distance between you, why this is the only way he allows himself to know the softness you carry. It’s both bliss and torment, this delicate line he walks, trembling under the weight of the scent and the way it melds into the heat of his own breath. 

His movements become slower, more deliberate, savoring every moment until there’s nothing left but the ragged edge of satisfaction mixed with the stark silence of solitude. His mind swirls with the thought of you, laid out beneath him, your skin flushed and breath coming in soft, shuddering gasps. 

"My lord….my Sukuna." you would whisper, voice low and dripping with need, eyes wide and filled with trust and anticipation. The sound of your voice in his imagination alone makes him clench his jaw, his breath catching as heat unfurls within him.

“Say it again, little one.” he imagines himself growling, his tone both a command and a plea. His hand moves, firm and deliberate, stroking along his length as he pictures the way you’d obey, the way you’d bite your lip before moaning his name once more, the sound of it desperate and broken.

“Please, my lord.” your voice echoes in his head, needy and soft. 

The thought drives him to the brink, his body responding to the phantom sound as if you were really there. The groan that slips from his lips is deep, guttural, filling the dark room. His hips bucked against his own touch, chasing the sensation, needing it, needing you.

"Look at me. Keep your eyes on me. Only me." he imagines saying, the rasp in his voice trembling at the edge of restraint. 

He pictures your eyes locking onto his, the way they’d cloud over as he takes you apart piece by piece. His pace quickens, hand swirling tighter as he lets himself fall further into the fantasy, into the imagined warmth of your skin against his, the velvet feel of your touch.

“My lord—oh, Sukuna!” you’d moan, this time louder, the way he likes. His muscles tense as he shudders, everything building to that blinding point of no return. 

The room falls silent but for the sound of his own gasps, as the pleasure crashes over him, leaving only the thrum of his heartbeat and the haunting ache of wanting more than this moment, more than just shadows and longing.

Sukuna’s breath comes in short, ragged bursts as his hips move faster, instinct guiding his hand as he chases the release that teeters just out of reach. The image of you beneath him, eyes glassy and lips swollen, clings to his mind with fierce clarity. 

He can almost feel the way your body would shudder, the way you'd gasp and cling to him, the sensation of being deep within you as you take him, body trembling and surrendering completely. The tension in him coils tighter, the thought of you so full of him that he can see it in the way your body arches, pressing against him, drawing him deeper. 

“Take it all, little one. Take all of me. Please. Please—oh…..” he imagines growling, the dark intensity of the command vibrating through the silence.

His hand moves with desperation, the slick glide mimicking the fantasy in his mind, where every breath from you is a soft plea and every moan is edged with that delicious note of submission that drives him wild.

The imagined feel of your warmth, of your walls tightening around him, pushes him over the edge. His body tenses, muscles rigid as the wave crashes through him, a guttural groan spilling from his lips, raw and deep.

Pleasure surges, blinding and consuming, leaving him breathless and sprawled in the silence that follows, the echoes of his need fading into the stillness of the room.

When the tremors subside, he opens his eyes, staring up at the ceiling, chest heaving. The room feels emptier now, haunted by the echoes of your phantom touch and the aching reminder that you’re not here.

The need has been sated for now, but the longing, that ever-present hunger for you, remains unsatisfied, gnawing at him with a dark, insatiable hunger.

He looks down at the silk fabric, occupied by his fluids.

Sukuna felt his lips tighten at the sight of it, so full of him.

He ruined you, he keeps ruining you — and he would not stop.

Ryomen Sukuna stood up, and looks at the potion.

He could not take it, he could not take that guilt.

His hands takes it brashly towards his lips and drank.

Ryomen Sukuna wants to forget how he hurt you.

══════════════════

YOU MAKE HASTE TO GET READY. Sukuna’s summons arrives as a simple, imperious command, and yet it sends a thrill down your spine. You looked at Uraume and merely nodded. Your husband was that sort of man. He only wishes for you when he ends up at the end of his wits. But you cannot say much about it. You ought not to.

It’s been quite a few weeks gone and past since the two of you sat together without the press of others’ watchful eyes or the weight of duties. And because of that, things would be different between the two of you, well at least until that awkward distance disappears with some comfort with some time spent together.

When you enter the grand dining hall, he’s already seated, the firelight casting a warm glow over his sharp features, softening the edge of his usual scowl. His crimson eyes lift to meet yours, something unreadable flickering behind them before he gives a subtle nod.

“Sit, little one.” he says, and though the tone is clipped, there’s a trace of something gentler woven beneath. 

You take your place across from him, and a faint smile tugs at your lips as the first drink of sake is poured for you.  Another bountiful pour of special drink for him.

It had taken some time for tongues to become loose. The silence between you is not strained but filled with anticipation, as if the weeks apart have made every unspoken word hum with importance.

The conversation unfolds slowly, naturally. The tension in his shoulders loosens as he sips from his cup, scarlet eyes softening when you speak of your children. Everything about your children brought the two of you closer. That's how it was.

You both talked abotu everything. Their laughter, their small victories at Jujutsu, the way they remind you of him in ways both stubborn and tender. Chizuru had finally learned how to control his cursed energy. Chiharu had discovered a new technique of her own, defeating her mentor. 

Your husband listens, occasionally offering a rare chuckle or a subtle smirk, and you realize just how much you missed this: the shared warmth, the unguarded moments when he’s more than the king, more than the conqueror. He perhaps did not love you. But you wanted his comfort, his warmth. In some ways, you wanted to be his. 

Not in ownership, no. But to….to have been cared for in some way by him. Of course, it would not be close to his feelings for Ryomen Hiromi. You had long accepted that. Still, you wanted warmth from him.

You wanted to carve your way through his heart, and let yourself have a home in it. At least what was left. Yet, you would never say that out loud. It was not your place. It never has been.

“Do you remember when Chiharu first tried to use her powers?” you ask, laughter bubbling in your voice. Sukuna’s lips quirk up at the memory, a shadow of pride crossing his face.

“The girl was quite fearless, I admit.” he replies, a hint of admiration in his voice. “But she still needs some work.”

You smiled. “My lord, I am certain you can find that Chiharu is one to be proud of. The work has paid off.”

“Hm. I suppose it has.” He says to you, his eyes tender. “But I cannot take the credit.”

“Nor can I, my lord.” You whisper back to him, a small smile on your lips. “I am not her only parent.”

He shakes his head. “No, no. To her, little one? You are the only one that matters.”

Everything from then seems to shrink around the two of you, the space intimate and alive with a marriage lived in many years and many dimensions — such of which the world will never know or be privy to. No. This belongs only to the two of you. No one else.

As the evening deepens, the wine flows more freely, and the conversation shifts, softening at the edges. Sukuna leans forward, his eyes catching the flicker of firelight. Your husband was studying you with a gaze that pierces through the veil of time and distance.

You’re suddenly aware of how close you are, of how his fingers drum lightly on the table, mere inches from yours. He couldn't stop, looking at you. Yearning for warmth that only you could provide.

Without thinking, you close the gap. Your hand brushes his, and before you can second-guess, you lean forward and press your lips to his. The kiss is soft at first, hesitant, as if testing the waters of familiarity, but he responds almost immediately. 

His hand moves to cup the back of your neck, deepening the kiss with a hunger that’s been banked too long. The room falls away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in the heat and urgency of reconnection, mouths moving with the desperation of lovers long apart.

When you pull back, both breathless, his eyes search yours, softer now, vulnerable in a way that’s rare and precious.

“It’s been too long, little one.” he murmurs, voice rough but honest, and you nod, a smile curving your lips as you press your forehead to his, savoring the moment and the promise of more to come.

The silence stretches between you, but it’s charged, buzzing with an unspoken need. The kiss lingers in the air, the taste of him still warm on your lips. There is no more talking now, only the thrum of anticipation as Sukuna’s eyes, deep and darkened with desire, lock onto yours. 

His hand tightens at the back of your neck, pulling you closer as his mouth crashes against yours again, fiercer this time. The room is awash in the scarlet glow of the fire, shadows dancing as if to the rhythm of your heartbeats.

Your hands find their way to his chest, fingers splaying over the hard muscle beneath his robes as you feel his heart pound beneath your touch. He shifts, rising from his chair with a graceful power that makes your breath catch.

In one swift movement, he pulls you up, the table pushed aside as if it were an afterthought, and suddenly, you're against him, your body pressed against the solid heat of his form.

Sukuna’s lips trail down your jaw to the pulse at your neck, teeth grazing as his breath comes hot against your skin. You gasp, your fingers tangling in his hair, tugging him closer, wordlessly urging him on.

His hands roam, one sliding down your back, pressing your hips into his, while the other explores the curve of your waist, anchoring you as if afraid to let go.

Your senses blur; the feeling of his tongue tracing along the line of your collarbone sends shivers down your spine, and you arch into him, needing more. The sound of your breathless moans, mingled with the quiet growl he makes against your skin, fills the room. 

Sukuna lifts you easily, his strength effortless as he sets you on the edge of the table, stepping between your legs and pressing into you until there’s nothing but heat and the throb of shared longing.

Your eyes meet, and for a moment, the intensity softens. His thumb brushes your cheek, a surprising gentleness in the midst of the fervor, and then his lips are on yours again.

Over and over, he pushed forward with wanton desire. His lips wanted more. Tasting, claiming, as his hands slide lower, pulling you closer, drawing a shiver of pleasure that melts the last traces of restraint.

The world around you fades to nothing but the sensation of him, the rush of your bodies entwined in a dance that is both savage and intimate. Everything is raw, animalistic, as if the very air crackles with the weight of longing that has built up over the weeks apart. 

Ryomen Sukuna’s grip on you is commanding, pulling you closer, pressing you against him with a desperate need that makes you gasp, your body trembling in response.

The slick warmth of his skin against yours is intoxicating, a heady mixture of heat and urgency that makes it feel like there’s no time to waste. His lips are on you again, claiming you with a hunger that mirrors the way his body moves against yours.

Each thrust, each slow drag of his hips, drives deeper, the pressure building between you until it's unbearable. You can feel the pulse in his veins, the steady throb of him that echoes in your own body, matching the rhythm of your heart as it races wildly.

Tears slip from the corners of your eyes, but they’re not from pain, no. They’re from something deeper, something more overwhelming. The vulnerability of the moment, the overwhelming sensation of him taking you, claiming you fully, fills you with an emotion that crashes over you like a wave. 

Your breath hitches as you bite down on your lip, trying to hold back the rush of feelings threatening to break free. But Sukuna’s groan, low and almost animalistic, makes your resolve shatter, and you let go, surrendering completely to the pleasure, to the connection that binds you to him.

His body throbs with each movement, the pulse of his veins like a living thing inside you, the rhythm of it so steady and consuming that it feels as if you’re both part of the same beating heart. 

The force of it, the heat and pressure, makes you feel like you’re coming apart at the seams, but in the best way, as if every inch of you is being remade, redefined by his presence, by the way he fills you completely. There’s nothing but him now, no walls, no distance, just the two of you locked together in a way that feels timeless, primal.

You feel whole with him, in a way you’ve never felt before. The empty spaces that have haunted you, the ones you couldn’t even name; all of it seems to vanish in the intensity of the moment. How could it not, when he rules you in everything, body, heart and soul?

His body is a fierce warmth that wraps around you, grounding you, making you feel like you’ve always belonged to him, and he to you. It’s a feeling that is so deep, so consuming, that it transcends the physical, filling you with a sense of completeness that makes the rest of the world irrelevant.

The sound of his breath, deep and erratic, mingles with the rhythm of your own, and you’re both lost in the storm you’ve created. There are no words anymore, just the quiet, rhythmic echo of your bodies moving together, caught in the tide of sensation that threatens to drown you both.

And in the heart of it all, as you feel him throb inside you, a whisper of truth cuts through the haze: You are his, and he is yours, bound together in this moment of raw, unyielding connection. Nothing else can compare. And for a moment, Ryomen Sukuna had thought about it too. 

══════════════════

THE POTION DIDN'T WORK FOR LONG. He remembered everything. All of it. And he thinks he felt sick. Sick to the core. He hated it. He hated himself. He knew he was a cruel man, a foolish man. How could he do that? How could he do that to you?

Everything was wrong about him. And you deserved more than him. It was a continual rinse and repeat. The cycle was suffocating, each time growing more suffused with an unspoken tension that neither of you could escape. 

Ryomen Sukuna, ever the stoic, had felt that sharp pang of guilt again. It always caught him when he least expected it, the ghost of an emotion he tried so hard to suppress. The way you looked at him was always with eyes full of tenderness, full of trust. And everything about it had haunted him in those quiet moments. 

But guilt was a weakness, a human frailty that did not belong to him. He had learned to bury it, to lock it away with all the other feelings he refused to confront. And so, once again, the weight of that emotion was swallowed by the darkness he carried within himself, and he moved on.

You, on the other hand, were trapped in a cycle of confusion. The potion was seamless, subtle in its potency. One moment, you were wrapped in a night of passion, tangled with him in a world that felt more real than anything else. 

But the next, everything was gone. No memory of his touch, of the way he had made you feel; no trace of the connection you had shared. Just a deep sense of something missing, a gnawing hole that you couldn’t understand. 

The fog in your mind only deepened when you tried to recall the details. It was as though you had forgotten how to ask the right questions, and even when you tried, the answers weren’t there. Sukuna felt bitter and sick about his own actions. 

The potion worked too well.

And so, you found yourself caught in the same pattern, over and over. Confusion, followed by fleeting glimpses of something that should be familiar but never quite is. Each time you reached out for him, whether for comfort or answers—there was a distance, an impenetrable coldness that he wrapped around himself. 

The more you tried to close that gap, the further he seemed to pull away. You would ask, softly at first, tentatively: "Why do you look at me like that?" or "What happened?" But Sukuna never answered. 

His gaze would flicker, distant, uninterested, as if the question itself were a nuisance. He would look at you for a moment, but never fully engage, never fully reach for you. The warmth you once had between you felt as though it had turned to ice.

And it stung.

You would find yourself alone in the aftermath, wondering what had changed. Wondering what you had done wrong, what you had missed. It wasn’t like him to ignore you. Not in the way he did now. His absence wasn’t just physical—it was emotional, like he had shut a door between you that you couldn’t get through. 

His indifference was sharper than any anger he could have thrown your way. Each time you tried to get closer, to break through the cold silence that had enveloped him, the distance seemed to grow. It was as if the very act of reaching out to him had become a punishment, one you didn’t understand.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed, that this time, the disconnection wasn’t just a hunch for you. No, it was not just a guess. You couldn’t even remember how many times this had happened now, but each time it was harder to ignore, harder to pretend that you weren’t losing something you could never get back. 

The confusion was maddening, the way you had to fight against your own mind to remember pieces of a night that had been so vivid, so full of promise. You could almost feel him there, his presence heavy and undeniable, but the memories always slipped away, as if they belonged to someone else.

And then, there was Sukuna. Unreachable, aloof, silent. He would turn away when you looked at him for too long, pretending not to notice the ache in your gaze, the way you waited for him to explain. He never did. 

And when you pressed, he became colder, more detached, his disinterest palpable. He ignored you, avoided your touch, and the more you tried to understand, the more he made it clear that you were not meant to.

He had been there—yes, he had been. But now, when you needed him most, when you tried to break through to him, he wasn’t. Not really.

It left you questioning everything. What have you lost? What was real? What had he erased? And why, no matter how hard you tried, did it feel as if you were always walking in circles, never getting closer to the truth? It was as though you were always on the outside of something, always knocking on the door but never able to step inside.

It wasn’t just the potion anymore. Something deeper had shifted, something that even Ryomen Sukuna couldn’t hide beneath his cold, indifferent exterior. The question now was whether you would ever get the chance to find out what.

You sit in silence, your fingers drumming on the edge of the table, eyes trained on Sukuna as he remains seated across from you. His gaze is cold, unreadable, but there's a flicker in his eyes, a subtle shift in the way he watches you, as though he's aware of the question you haven't lived yet.

The air between you feels heavier than usual, suffused with the unspoken tension that’s been building for weeks. You can’t ignore it anymore—the gnawing sense that something is slipping through your fingers, something important. And the more you try to hold onto it, the more it fades.

You finally break the silence, your voice quiet but determined.

“I… I feel like I’m forgetting things. Important things, my lord.” you admit, not meeting his gaze. The words feel heavy on your tongue, almost like admitting something you don’t want to be true.

Sukuna remains still, his crimson eyes narrowing just slightly, watching you with that same detached intensity. His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t speak. You can feel the air grow thick with the weight of his silence, and it only makes the ache inside you grow sharper.

“Like what?” His voice is low, measured, but there's a faint edge to it that you can’t quite place. He knows what you’re talking about. Of course he does.

“I don’t know, my lord.” you mutter, frustration leaking into your voice. “It’s like I wake up and there’s a hole in my memory. Pieces are missing. And I—I can’t even remember what happened the night before. It’s like I’m walking through fog, like everything is just out of reach.” 

You raise your eyes to meet him, searching for something—anything—in his gaze. “I can’t explain it, but it feels like I’m losing myself.”

Sukuna leans back in his chair, his posture casual, but there's something unreadable about his expression. His fingers drum lightly on the armrest, a rhythm that matches the quickening beat of your heart.

You wait for him to say something, anything, but he remains silent for a long time, his gaze fixed on you, as though weighing something important in his mind.

“You know what’s happening, my lord.” you say, your voice suddenly a little sharper, more desperate. “You must know. I feel like you’re hiding something from me. Why—why won’t you just tell me? What am I forgetting? Why does it feel like you’re slipping away from me, every time I try to reach you?”

A dark, fleeting look crosses his face—something almost guilty, but it’s gone too quickly for you to catch it fully. Instead, his lips curl into that familiar, mocking smirk, but it’s lacking the usual bite.

“I’m not hiding anything, little one.” he replies, his voice low, but there’s an undercurrent of something dark in it. “It’s your mind, not mine. You’ve always had a tendency to forget what’s inconvenient. It's your own fault.”

Your chest tightens at his words. It’s not the answer you wanted—not even close. You lean forward, trying to control the emotions threatening to spill over. You were exhausted with this. You cannot take anymore of this.

“You can’t seriously expect me to believe that, my lord.” You shake your head, feeling a bitter frustration rise in you. “I feel like I’m going insane. One moment, everything feels so real, and the next... it’s gone. And I—I know it’s not just me. Something is happening, and you’re the only one who doesn’t seem bothered by it.”

Sukuna’s smirk fades, and for the briefest moment, something flickers across his face. It’s not guilt, but it’s close, something between acknowledgment and dismissal. He doesn’t answer right away, letting the silence stretch until it’s almost unbearable.

Finally, he speaks, his tone heavier now, more controlled. “Maybe you’re remembering things you shouldn’t, little one. You don’t need to know everything. Some things are better left forgotten.”

The weight of his words sinks into you like a stone, and you feel the truth of it in your chest, the way it sits there, cold and heavy. You swallow hard, trying to push past the confusion and hurt that swirl in your mind.

“Is that it, then, my lord?” you ask, voice breaking a little, though you try to steady yourself. “You think I should forget all of it? Forget the parts of me that belong to you? Forget about everything that could be important? My lord, that is cruel.”

Sukuna’s scarlet eyes darken, the cold distance in them sharpening again, but his expression doesn’t change. He leans forward slightly, his presence looming, like a predator assessing its prey. He doesn’t want to play his part. But it must. He had made it this far. He ought to own it.

“Stop asking questions you know I won’t answer. You know how this works.” His tone turns almost icy, cutting through the air. “What you remember doesn’t matter. Only what I allow you to remember does.”

You stare at him, the truth of it settling in like a weight in your gut. His words are like a bitter truth you can't swallow, but it doesn’t make them any less real. The distance between you widens again, suffocating, and you’re left staring at him, unsure whether to be angry or broken.

"Then why even keep me here, my lord?" you whisper, more to yourself than to him. The question feels pointless as soon as it leaves your lips, but it lingers, a sharp sting in the air. “You ought to send me to the Cold Hall. Or leave me be.”

For a moment, Ryomen Sukuna remains silent, his gaze flickering toward you with an unreadable expression. Then, he leans back, his features hardening into that impenetrable mask. 

“Because, little one…” he says, his voice low and deliberate. “I can. And I will.”

And just like that, the space between you becomes an abyss again, and you’re left wondering if you’ll ever get the answers you crave—or if, in time, you’ll forget you even asked. You turned away from him. You could feel his gaze bore a hole on the back of your head. But he noticed everything. He was no fool. 

Tears poured from your eyes.

You tried to quickly wipe them away.

But as you wiped them, more came by.

Even your body knows you were miserable.

Even your body knows something’s missing.

Something is wrong.

══════════════════

YOU ONCE MORE LOCKED YOURSELF AWAY IN VERMILLION HALL. You refused to see your husband and perhaps that was for the best. You had cried yourself to sleep for days now, the frustration eating away at you like an insidious thing. The weight of unanswered questions, the endless confusion, it had all built up and bled into your dreams.

The emotions had overwhelmed you to the point where sleep seemed like the only escape, the only refuge from the torment of not knowing. But sleep, as you soon discovered, offered no solace. It was restless and fleeting, filled with fragments of images, of faces, of a life you could never fully remember.

But when you woke, it wasn’t to the comfort of the blankets you had once found so familiar. No, you woke to an entirely different feeling—a sharp, searing pain that stabbed into your core, as if something inside you had broken open. 

It wasn’t a pain you had ever felt before, and it was so intense that it left you gasping for air, clutching at the sheets in a desperate attempt to understand what was happening to you. You felt like you were drowning, it felt like you were being stabbed.

Your mind was foggy, clouded with the remnants of your dreams and the confusion of the past days, but you didn’t need clarity to know that something was wrong. The pain was unbearable.

It was harshly crawling beneath your skin, wrapping around your insides with a terrible urgency. You frantically pulled at the blankets, your hands trembling as you tried to understand what was happening.

When you looked down, your breath hitched in your throat. Blood. It stained your sheets, pooling beneath you in stark, alarming contrast to the softness of the fabric. You groaned over and over in grievous pain.

Panic surged through you, a wave of shock and terror, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, the fear choking you. You couldn’t comprehend it, couldn’t wrap your mind around the sight before you.

You cried out, the sound raw and full of terror, your voice hoarse from the tears you had already shed. “Help me.” you whispered, your throat thick with panic, “Please…”

Within moments, your servants appeared soon; they were quick, frantic, their faces filled with concern and confusion. They rushed to your side, trying to assess the situation, to comfort you, but nothing they did could quell the overwhelming pain or the terror that gripped your chest.

“What happened? What’s wrong, my lady?” one of them asked, her voice trembling with concern as she hurried to help you sit up, her hands gently lifting the blood-soaked sheets away from your body.

You could barely answer, the pain making it impossible to form coherent words. All you could do was sob, clinging to them as if they could somehow stop the agony, stop the deep, hollow ache that was consuming you.

One of your servants hurried out, calling for help, while the others tried to tend to you as best as they could, offering comfort, but the fear in their eyes mirrored your own. Something was terribly wrong.

And no matter how many times you tried to explain it, tried to understand it yourself, you were left with more questions than answers. Why were you bleeding like this? What had happened to you? What were you forgetting?

The answers felt just out of reach, like a secret too dangerous to uncover. And the more you tried to grasp them, the more you sank into the unknown. You were crying endlessly, crying out in pain with or without the voice to do so.

Your servants worked swiftly, their hands trembling as they tried to stabilize you, but their movements felt like a blur, the world spinning around you. Their frantic whispers only heightened the feeling of helplessness clawing at your chest. 

One of them, a younger woman with dark eyes, pressed a cloth against your body, trying to stop the bleeding, but it felt like a losing battle. The blood stained your skin, soaking into the fabric of your nightgown and the sheets beneath you.

You could feel yourself becoming dizzy, your vision blurring as the pain intensified. Each pulse of pain seemed to radiate outward, as though it was coming from deep within, tearing at the fabric of your body, but you couldn't grasp why. Your thoughts were scattered, lost in a haze of fear and confusion.

"Stay with us, my lady. Please." one of the servants pleaded, her voice strained with panic. "We'll get help, please, just stay awake."

You barely heard her. The pain was too much, drowning out everything else. And then, a voice from the door, a voice you hadn’t heard in a long while had cut through the chaos. You couldn’t see his face. But his voice, it was the clearest it has ever been.

"Enough." Sukuna's voice rang out, cold and commanding. He appeared in the doorway, his gaze falling on the scene before him, and for a moment, everything stopped.

Your breath caught in your throat, the pain momentarily forgotten as you locked eyes with him. He looked unchanged, as imposing as ever, but there was something in his expression, something almost unreadable as he stepped closer.

“What’s going on?” His voice was low, but it was laced with an unfamiliar tension, something far removed from the indifference you’d come to expect from him.

You tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come, your body trembling too violently, too weak to form any coherent thoughts. Your breath hitched as another wave of pain shot through you, sharper than before.

It felt like something inside you was breaking open, tearing apart. The physical pain was unbearable, but it was the emotional toll that made you feel as if you were unraveling at the seams.

"S–she's losing too much blood, my lord." one of the servants said, trying to explain, but her voice faltered under Sukuna’s unwavering gaze. “My lady is bleeding and…we do not know why.

Ryomen Sukuna’s scarlet eyes narrowed slightly, his focus shifting to you. For the first time in a long while, something like concern flickered in his gaze, though it was masked by the familiar coldness that surrounded him.

He approached, kneeling at your side with a fluid, deliberate motion. Your cries were bellowing over and over against his ears. He could see it from where you embraced your body, the blood. 

His hand hovered over you, but he hesitated, as if unsure what to do. There was a knowing look in his eyes, as if he had known this story before. But you didn’t want to question him. You couldn’t. You were in too much pain to do so.

“What happened?” he repeated, his voice softer now, but there was an edge of command in it.

“I—I don’t know, my lord.” you gasped, each breath shallow, the words barely escaping your lips. “It hurts so much... I’m—I'm bleeding. I don’t know why.”

His eyes flickered briefly to your servants, who seemed to retreat slightly, their discomfort obvious, unsure of how to proceed. But Sukuna's attention remained solely on you, the deep crimson of his gaze scanning over your trembling form. 

The tension in his jaw tightened. He didn't speak right away, but there was something in his regal posture, there was something predatory in the way his eyes locked onto you that made it clear he was piecing something together.

After a long pause, he finally spoke, his voice almost too calm. "What were you doing before this happened?" he asked, his words cold but controlled, as if you should have already known the answer.

You struggled to keep your focus, the pain blurring your thoughts, but the question cut through the haze. You had been trying to remember, hadn't you? You had been trying to understand what had happened between the two of you, what had led to this moment.

“I—I don’t know…I was resting and I just….” you whispered, tears slipping from your eyes as you looked at him, feeling helpless. “I was trying to understand… but I can’t. Everything’s… everything’s slipping away. It’s like I’m losing pieces of myself.”

Sukuna’s expression darkened, a flicker of something. Was it regret?—crossing his face before he masked it again. He looked at the servants and nodded once, a quick, sharp motion. You did not know. You did not wish to know.  

"Leave us. All of you." he commanded. "I’ll handle this."

They hesitated for a moment, but his tone left no room for argument. One by one, they filed out of the room, leaving you alone with him. The silence was oppressive, thick with unspoken words and tension.

Ryomen Sukuna’s gaze returned to you, and for a moment, the world felt impossibly small, the pain in your body sharp and real, but the uncertainty in your heart was just as consuming. 

“I should’ve known better, little one.” he muttered, more to himself than to you, as if grappling with something he hadn’t fully admitted.

“Please…” you breathed, the words almost a plea. “I need to understand. What’s happening to me? Why am I—”

“Stop asking questions, little one.” he interrupted, his voice commanding, but softer now. He leaned closer to you, his hand hovering over the pool of blood as if sensing something, feeling the pulse of whatever was inside you. 

There was a flicker of something darker in his eyes—something that almost felt like guilt, but Ryomen Sukuna never allowed that weakness to surface.

He turns away for a moment, to look at the clear water in the silver basin. He could see his reflection, he could see the monster. He pauses. He purses his lips in a flat line.

“You were never meant to suffer this, little one.” he said, his voice low and grave, the truth of it settling in your chest. “And now… now it’s coming back to haunt us both.”

The words felt like a punch to the gut. You couldn’t understand it. You couldn’t make sense of it. But the look in his eyes, the way his hands trembled as he reached for you, told you that the answers you sought were far more dangerous than you could have imagined.

What could be the meaning of the truth? 

Was it all truly worth it, finding out everything?

Tears pooled over your eyes, melting in with your sweat.

“I am sorry, little one.” He says, his voice low as he brushes your hair away from your eyes. He smiles with such sorrow. The most you’ve ever seen in your long life with him. “I had made you suffer again, have I?”

A guttering sob echoes from your lips, tears flowing ever more abundantly. The fear echoes in your eyes as much as the pain did. Ryomen Sukuna let his hands become submerged into the water. He takes the wet cloth and starts to squeeze away at the heavy dues of water.

“This will hurt.” He whispers to you, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “Forgive me.”

══════════════════

HE HADN’T FOUND THE COURAGE TO LEAVE YOU. Not like this. Ryomen Sukuna stood in the quiet of the room, watching you as you lay pale and still beneath the blankets. Finally, you had found yourself resting.

Your chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, the sleeping potion he'd given you working its way through your system to calm the pain and induce sleep. But sleep had come too late—too far after the damage had already been done. You were still, but the scars of what had happened remained.

He had felt it, the weight of his actions, sinking into the pit of his stomach like a stone. The guilt gnawed at him like an insistent whisper, and the more he tried to drown it out with silence, the louder it became. But no matter how much he tried to ignore it, the truth clawed its way to the surface.

You had almost died once more. All because of him. All because he was a foolish man, a cruel man. An even crueler master, an even more foolish god. Everything about it was his fault and his alone. 

And because of it, there has to be a price. Fate did not care for the innocent nor the saints. It cared for retribution, for the price of the act be paid in full. And so, the life that had once flourished inside of you was gone now—taken away in a manner as cruel and sharp as the sins that had followed him throughout his existence.

Ryomen Sukuna could not even begin to process the violence of it all. The miscarriage—the life he had unknowingly torn away. The nights together, the heat of his desire, and the overwhelming need for you had been his undoing.

And now, the consequence was here, the result of his insatiable hunger for you. He had taken what was not his to take, and the cost of that was now clear.

It wasn’t just your body that had suffered. No, it was something deeper, something that would linger in him long after your recovery. The guilt, the realization that he was not invincible that his desires could bring destruction in their wake made his chest feel tight, suffocating.

He had wanted you. The way your presence made him feel alive, the way you fought him, the way you surrendered, had become a constant itch he couldn’t scratch.

But now, the price of his inability to stop, to control himself, to pull back, was laid bare in front of him. And now you suffer the consequences for him. His little one.

Sukuna reached out with a trembling hand, his fingers brushing against your forehead, lightly touching the dampness of your skin. You had no idea what had just happened.

You were unaware of the deep, catastrophic consequences of your union. And in this moment, he wished more than anything that you would wake, that he could make it right somehow.

But deep down, he knew there was no going back. This was his crime, and no amount of self-loathing could undo it.

His dark scarlet eyes, usually cold and ruthless, softened for a brief moment as they lingered on your sleeping face. He had always been a being of darkness, of overwhelming power and control. But in your presence, his control had slipped. And now, the consequences of that were too real to ignore.

Sukuna stood, the weight of his guilt threatening to collapse him under its force. He turned away, not trusting himself to stay there any longer, knowing that if he did, he might break under the pressure of what he had done. But as he left, as he retreated into the shadows, one thing was painfully clear: there was no redemption for him, not for this.

His craving for you, his sin, would always linger, a constant reminder of how even the most powerful could be undone by their own desires. Sukuna’s footsteps echoed through the quiet halls as he paced through the temple halls.

With each step weighted with a thousand thoughts that he could not escape. The dark emptiness of the space mirrored the turmoil in his mind, and the oppressive silence seemed to press in on him, suffocating him with its suffocating weight.

He had once been a king of curses, a being of unimaginable power. He had commanded nations, destroyed cities, and crushed anyone who dared oppose him. And yet, here he was. He found himself unable to leave.

He was there, standing at the edge of the abyss, unsure of what to do with the mess he had created. The guilt gnawed at him from the inside, a constant, unbearable reminder of his failure—not as a king, not as a god, but as something far more human than he had ever wished to admit.

He had wanted you. He had craved you with a hunger that was both consuming and insatiable. But now, that desire has cost you more than he could bear. Your life—your very being—had been reduced to an almost fatal casualty in the wake of his passion.

And the life that could have been, the child that had been growing inside you, was gone. All because of his weakness.

He stopped in front of a mirror, staring at his own reflection. His crimson eyes met his own, but he barely recognized the man staring back. He was no longer the powerful curse that had once ruled with an iron fist, no longer the being that felt above all others. He was just a hollow shell, a broken creature cursed by his own desires.

“You were never supposed to matter.” he muttered to himself, his voice raw with the edge of something close to self-loathing. “None of this was supposed to happen.”

His gaze fell, his hand coming up to grip the mirror's edge. His fingers curled into a fist, as if trying to destroy the reflection in front of him, to erase the reminder of his weakness.

But the image remained. The truth remained. He had been foolish, had allowed himself to feel, to need—and now, the consequences were irreversible.

He turned away from the mirror, his mind churning with the weight of everything that had happened. You had been so innocent in all of this, so unaware of what was going on behind the scenes. Of what his selfishness, his guilt, his cruelty — could do.

He could still see the confusion in your eyes when you had asked about your forgotten memories, the pleading look on your face as you tried to make sense of the fractured pieces of your past.

He had told you to forget, to accept what was happening without question. But deep down, he knew you were right. You deserve the truth. And yet, he could never give it to you.

Sukuna’s fists clenched once more, his chest tightening with the painful realization. What he had done to you, what he had done to your body, it could never be undone. The life inside you had been snuffed out before it could even have a chance to grow. And all because of him.

He could hear your soft, labored breaths echoing in his mind, the sound of your pain, your suffering. The thought of it almost brought him to his knees. But he couldn't stop. He couldn’t undo what had already been done.

He had wanted you too much, had wanted you in ways that consumed him. The guilt, the agony, it was all wrapped up in that same burning desire.

But no matter how much he hated himself for it, no matter how much he wanted to walk away and never look back, he knew he couldn’t leave you. Not when you had become so intricately tied to everything he had ever wanted, everything he had ever craved.

With a deep, tortured sigh, Sukuna turned back to the door and made his way toward your room. He had no answers to give you, no redemption to offer. But he would be there. He couldn’t leave you, not now, not when he had already destroyed everything. 

The best he could do now was stay. To watch, to wait. To let the pain he had caused burn into him, until it became a part of him, a part of the inevitable price he would always pay for what he had done.

As he approached your door, he paused for a moment, his hand resting on the handle, the weight of everything pressing down on him. He wasn't sure what he expected from this encounter.

Was there still a part of him that hoped you could forgive him? Or was he simply there because, like the curse he was, he was tethered to you in ways that defied understanding?

He stepped into the room, his eyes immediately falling on you, lying so still in your slumber. The sight of you, fragile and broken, made his insides twist in a way he had never known. There was no redemption for him. Not now. Not after all of this.

But he was still here. And he would never leave.

He would never stop finding himself drawn to you.

And maybe that was the cruelest punishment of all.

══════════════════

THE HEALER HAD SAID TO REST AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE. And you had done just that. The air around Vermillion Hall was thick with the sound of everyday life. Everything about it has made you feel healed more than anything. You could hear the children's laughter, servants going about their duties, and the occasional clink of crockery from the kitchen. 

The days had grown quieter since the incident, and though your body was slowly recovering, your heart still aches with the absence of what could have been. And yet, somehow, you weren’t alone. Not even when you wanted to. But perhaps, it was for the best.

Ryomen Sukuna’s presence had become an uninvited constant. At first, his decision to move to the nearby Repentance Hall had seemed insignificant. But now, with each passing day, you realized just how much of an impact it had on your life.

You were seated at a table in the sunlit dining room, carefully eating a small portion of food when Sukuna walked in, his figure tall and commanding even from across the room. His scarlet orbs flicked to you, but he said nothing as he made his way over to sit across from you. 

His posture was casual, but there was an unsettling weight in the air, as if his very presence was always carrying something unspoken. Perhaps that was just how intimidating your husband’s presence was. Everything about him was magnanimous. And it was hard to fight. It was hard to win against.

He watched you for a moment, studying the way you slowly ate. A sigh passed his lips, not one of impatience, but of something more complex. Something that was not as easy to read as before. Perhaps a silent acknowledgment of the burden neither of you had asked for. One that you would not want to talk about, not right now.

“You’re eating less, little one.” he commented, his voice low, but there was a certain sharpness to his tone.

You paused, the fork hovering in the air, before setting it down. "I’m fine, my lord." you said softly, your eyes meeting his own with a mix of weariness and frustration. “I’m just… still not hungry. I’m not used to being like this. The healer had said it was fine.”

Sukuna leaned back slightly in his chair, his dark gaze never leaving you. “It’s not about being used to it, little one.” he said, his voice colder now, as if he were speaking to a child rather than an equal. “It’s about getting better.”

“You hover upon me too much, my lord.”

“You are my concubine, my wife.” He tells you ever so bluntly. “And you are unwell. Should I just abandon you thus?”

There was a long silence between you two. His words were heavy, yet devoid of tenderness. He cared, in his own way, but never in a manner that you could decipher. His scarlet orbs tenderly flickered to the children playing outside, their sounds of joy drifting in through the window, before returning to you.

“Why did you move here, my lord?” you asked suddenly, breaking the silence, your voice gentle but questioning. “The trip to the audience hall is longer than before with such a move. Heaven’s Hall is more convenient than this.”

You hadn’t asked him before; the question had never felt right, never appropriate in the swirl of chaos that had come in the aftermath of everything. Ryomen Sukuna’s lips quivered slightly at the question, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes. 

"You really have to ask, little one?" He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table, his gaze intense now, as if daring you to probe deeper. “I told you it was better this way.”

“Better?” you echoed, shaking your head in disbelief. “For whom, exactly? You barely speak to me. You don’t even explain why you’re here or why you’re…”

You trailed off, a bitter taste in your mouth as the words you had been holding back for so long finally spilled out. “Why are you staying here? My lord, this is…. What is this? What are you doing?”

The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of everything that had been left unsaid. Sukuna did not flinch at your outburst, nor did he retreat. Instead, he remained as still as a stone, his crimson eyes locking onto yours with an almost unreadable expression.

"I cannot leave. Not like this. I do not want to be near you, after all that I have done." His voice was low, but there was something in the harshness of it that made you falter. "Do you think I want to be near you after what I’ve done? But I cannot leave you….I cannot. You are……."

He stops himself, his lips turning into a flat line. You tried to open your mouth to respond, but the words failed you. He wasn’t shouting, but there was a palpable tension in his words that sent a chill through you.

The truth of what had happened. The weight of the consequences was there between you, even if neither of you could fully confront it.

"I know….." he continued, his voice softer now, but still heavy with guilt.

"You’ve suffered because of me. More than I care to admit. But it’s not like I can undo what’s been done." He paused, his eyes flickering with something close to regret. "You don’t want me here. But it’s... easier this way. For you. For me. For the children.”

You stared at him, processing his words slowly. It was an admission of sorts, though he cloaked it in his usual arrogance. He wasn’t just here for the sake of proximity; he was here because, despite everything, he couldn’t bear to be entirely distant from you. 

There was something in your husband, something primal, something deeply conflicted that kept him bound to you, even if he didn’t know how to act on it. Sickening as it all is, painful as it all is — it keeps you both together. And almost like a game, both of you do not want to lose it and leave.

"But why the children?" you asked, your voice quieter now. "Why do you walk them in the morning, share meals with them when you barely speak to me? What do you want from me, my lord?"

He looked away then, his jaw tightening as if he were fighting against something inside. "I don’t know." he muttered, almost under his breath. His voice was rougher, as if the words themselves were a struggle to form. "I don’t know what I’m doing."

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the tension between you as thick as the silence that wrapped around the room. You could feel his eyes on you, and you sensed something different in his gaze.

There was an unfamiliar vulnerability there; something far less like the commanding, untouchable king you had come to know, and more like something human, something raw. Finally, after a long pause, Sukuna’s eyes softened. Even for just for a second.

"I may not have been the one you thought you needed. I cannot say what you want me to say, to do what you want me to do, little one." he said slowly, his voice surprisingly calm. "But I’ll be here. In whatever way I can. I promised you that, haven’t I?"

You blinked, unsure whether to be relieved or frustrated by his admission. His presence, while undeniably constant, was still a riddle you couldn’t solve.

But something in the tone of his voice, in the way he had dropped his usual bravado, made you feel a flicker of something—a strange, uncertain hope.

"I’m trying, little one." he added softly, looking away from you again, as though not quite able to meet your gaze. "Trying to be… better. For you. For everything."

The words hung between you two, and though the weight of everything still lingered, a small part of you wondered—perhaps hoped—that there was more to his actions than you could see.

The silence that followed hung in the air, thick and laden with the weight of unspoken truths. You watched him as he shifted slightly in his seat, his eyes now focused on something beyond you, anything, it seemed, but you. 

His admission, raw and unrefined, left you uncertain about how to respond. He had never been one to reveal vulnerability, and now, with his words lingering in the space between you, you were unsure if you should reach out or retreat.

Sukuna cleared his throat, his usual arrogance beginning to seep back into his voice, though the softness that had briefly touched his words lingered beneath.

“I don’t expect you to understand, little one.” he said, his tone rough. “But I’m here because I can’t seem to stay away. Whether I want to or not.”

Your heart twisted at that, the feeling of both connection and distance pulling at you like a string being tugged in two directions. You wanted to scream at him, to demand answers, to ask him how he could do that to you and then sit here, speaking in circles as if it were nothing. 

But a part of you, a small part, understood. Understood that in his own way, he was trying to show you something. Trying to make up for what had been lost, even if he didn’t have the words for it.

He leaned back, stretching his arms out behind him, his eyes momentarily closing as if contemplating the words he had just said. His gaze returned to you after a long moment, unreadable, but something was different. The guilt that had once clawed at him was still there, buried beneath layers of pride and anger, but it was no longer the overwhelming force it had been before.

"You don’t want me near, little one." he said quietly, but this time, there was an almost wistful quality to his voice, as though he were trying to make sense of the situation himself. "But I can’t leave. Not after everything."

There it was again—the implication that he was here because of his own twisted sense of responsibility, or perhaps, something else. It was hard to say. Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t exactly known for his clarity, and his motives were as layered and complex as his personality. But, for once, he didn’t seem entirely sure of himself either.

You couldn’t help but feel conflicted. Part of you wanted to lash out—demand that he leave, that he stop playing this twisted game, stop pretending to care when he had caused so much damage.

And yet, another part of you, the part that still held on to some semblance of trust, felt the ghost of something softer, something that had once existed between you two.

"Why stay, then, my lord?" you asked, your voice soft, almost pleading for some sort of clarity. "If you can’t undo what’s been done... if you can’t fix it... why bother?"

He stared at you for a long moment, his crimson eyes sharp yet distant, like a predator weighing the cost of its next move. “Because, little one…..” he began, his voice barely above a murmur. “I can’t just walk away from you. No matter how much I want to. Not even when I need to.”

His words were quieter now, as if speaking them aloud made them more real, and in that moment, you could see it. The battle inside of him. Ryomen Sukuna was always in control, always calculating, but right now, there was something else beneath his hardened exterior. Something that made him seem almost... human.

"Why?" you whispered, the question feeling like an accusation and a plea all at once. "Why me?"

Sukuna didn’t immediately respond. His gaze drifted to the window, to where the children were playing outside, their innocent laughter a stark contrast to the weight of the conversation between the two of you. After a long moment, he spoke again, his voice rough, like he was wrestling with the truth itself.

"Because... I don’t know." He chuckled softly, but there was no humor in it. "I never thought I’d let anyone get this close, little one. But you... You’ve been a challenge, haven’t you?" 

His gaze met yours again, but this time there was something different in it—something more complex than the cruel amusement he so often wore. "I never wanted to admit it, but here we are. Years of suffering and pain and grief and distance, we are still here. For each other.”

His words lingered, and for a brief moment, you found yourself unsure of how to respond. There was an undeniable weight to his admission, a rawness that you rarely saw from the man who once drowned in his own untouchable power.

Ryomen Sukuna’s pride, his arrogance, had always defined him—but now it seemed as though those very traits were at odds with the reality of what had happened between you. The man who could have taken everything and given nothing was now here, trying to make sense of his own tangled emotions.

“You think this is easy for me?” he continued, his voice growing softer, more introspective. “You think I haven’t hated myself for this? For everything?”

His eyes darkened briefly, a flicker of his own inner torment flashing behind them. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. But it did. And now... now I can’t just walk away. Not when there’s nothing left to fix.”

You could see the weight of his words, could feel the sincerity behind them, even if he had never shown it before. It was strange, this new side of him. Strange and unsettling. But it was real, as real as anything else in this complicated, messed-up world that the two of you seemed trapped in.

The silence stretched between you, a fragile moment of understanding that neither of you fully knew how to navigate. You wanted to speak, to offer some words of comfort or clarity, but nothing seemed adequate enough. Instead, you found yourself simply looking at him, the man who had caused so much pain and yet now seemed just as lost as you.

Finally, Sukuna spoke again, his voice quiet but firm.

"Just don’t ask me to leave, little one." he said. "I can’t do that. Not yet."

And so, there was no resolution. No sudden clarity. But there was something between you now, something neither of you could ignore, even if neither of you understood it fully. It was a strange, fragile truce, one born from guilt, from unspoken desires, from the wreckage of what had once been. 

Ryomen Sukuna was staying, whether you liked it or not. That was what he had to do, that’s what his heart was telling him to do. And for reasons neither of you could explain, that was enough—for now.

“Eat with me, my lord.” You whispered to him, pointing at your dish. “I cannot finish it all.”

He smiled at you, almost so fondly. “Very well, little one.”

[livebeforeyoulearn]

My Favourite Game

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Overstimulation

Word Count: 6.1k

Summary: Your first night out with Alexia after having a baby goes exactly as you had planned.

Request

a/n: i kinda loved this request and got a little carried away

-

You and Alexia are dressed nicely, the soft glow of evening light reflecting off the car parked outside her sister’s house. Tonight is the night you’ve been dreaming of, a moment you’ve craved for longer than you can remember – date night. Since your daughter came into the world, time alone has been scarce, precious moments with just the two of you seem like distant memories. As much as you adore parenthood, and as much as sharing that role with Alexia has brought you closer in a new way, you miss her. You miss the warmth of her touch, the way her fingertips would graze your skin. You miss those quiet, intimate whispers she’d share only with you when the world outside no longer mattered.

This night has been in the works for days. You’ve planned every detail, and now that the moment is finally here, anticipation hums in your chest. You hope Alexia will pick up on your excitement, the signals you intend to send during dinner. Maybe, just maybe, the night will end the way you’ve been imagining all week.

"Are you going to come say hi to Alba?" Alexia asks, breaking your reverie. Her voice pulls you back to the present, and you meet her gaze, nodding with a soft smile. She returns the gesture, her hand resting on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze before she opens the door and steps out of the car. Her movements are graceful yet purposeful as she opens the back door to unbuckle the baby. "Estàs preparat per passar una estona amb la tieta Alba?" She coos, her voice laced with affection.

Your daughter, in response, babbles sweetly, her legs kicking in tiny, joyful spurts that melt your heart. The sight of Alexia planting a kiss on her chubby cheek before cradling her close sends a wave of warmth through you. You follow, stepping out of the car and walking alongside your family up the short, stone path leading to Alba’s house.

Before you can knock, the door swings open, and Alba strides out, her face lit with a mischievous grin. She skips the usual pleasantries, barely acknowledging Alexia as she wraps you in a quick hug, her arms already reaching to scoop the baby from Alexia’s embrace.

"Hola preciosa, ens ho passarem molt bé!" Alba beams, the joy in her voice contagious as your daughter giggles in response. Alexia, ever the protective mother, rolls her eyes but smiles despite herself. Alba lets the baby reach for her face, her eyes softening with affection.

“Her bedtime is soon. Please don’t keep her up too late, and–” Alexia starts, her tone edging towards concern, but she’s swiftly cut off by Alba’s nonchalant wave.

“Ale, she’ll be fine,” Alba reassures, flashing her a playful smile. “Don’t worry.” With a gleeful look, she guides your daughter’s tiny hand in a wave. “Say, bye Mami, bye Mama, have fun – but not too much fun. We can’t have another little one too soon.”

Alexia’s cheeks turn a soft shade of pink, a rare bashfulness in her usually composed demeanour. You chuckle, squeezing her hand as she looks away, trying to hide her embarrassment. “Thank you again, Alba,” you say, gratitude laced in your tone as Alba sends you a knowing wink. 

You bend down to place a tender kiss on your daughter’s head, savouring the soft warmth of her skin. Alba hugs you once more, kissing you on the cheek before finally embracing her sister. With a final smile, she heads inside, the door closing softly behind her.

"Come on, amor," you say, the excitement bubbling up once more as you tug gently on Alexia’s hand, your heart already racing with the thrill of what’s to come.

Alexia turns towards you, a radiant smile lighting her face as she lets you pull her back to the car, your fingers entwined. 

The car ride feels much longer than it really is, and with every passing minute, you can feel the excitement buzzing through you, almost impossible to contain. Alexia glances over at you, amused by the energy radiating off you, clearly enjoying how eager you are for this night – just the two of you. It’s been so long since you’ve had uninterrupted time alone together, and the prospect of a night away from parenting duties feels like a breath of fresh air.

When you finally arrive, the restaurant is even more perfect than you imagined. Elegant and intimate, the soft glow of lights hanging overhead sets the perfect mood for the evening. As soon as the car stops, you're out in an instant, nearly pulling Alexia out with you, your impatience showing.

Inside, you’re led to a booth tucked towards the back, secluded from the rest of the restaurant. The flickering candlelight casts a warm, romantic glow across the table, illuminating Alexia’s features in a way that takes your breath away. She slides into the booth beside you, close enough that her leg rests against yours, and you instinctively wrap an arm around her, your fingers lazily playing with the strands of her hair. Your other hand finds its place on her thigh, gently resting there, though you wish she had worn a dress tonight. You could work with this, though.

As you settle in, you let your fingers trail slowly over her covered thigh, brushing higher with every casual touch. At first, your movements are innocent enough, your hand finding its way to her neck, then along her jawline, caressing the soft skin just below her ear. Each time you move, you notice the slight hitch in her breath, and it’s enough to encourage you to keep going.

“Stop,” Alexia whispers softly, her voice barely audible, but the playful glint in her eye tells you she doesn’t really mean it. She keeps her eyes focused on the menu in front of her, but you can see the faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips, betraying her amusement.

“Stop what?” you ask innocently, letting your fingers travel higher up her thigh, closer to her waistband. Your other hand slips under her shirt, fingers lightly tracing over her abdomen, your nails grazing over the firm ridges of her muscles. “I’m not doing anything.”

Alexia’s breath catches in her throat, her body shifting subtly as she glances around the restaurant, checking to see if anyone might be paying too much attention. When she’s sure no one is watching, she leans in, her lips brushing your ear as she whispers, her voice low and warm. “You’re going to get us in trouble.”

Your hand dips lower, your fingers playing with the hem of her panties under the waistband of her pants. “Trouble? I don’t think anyone’s even looking,” you murmur, your voice carrying a teasing edge.

Alexia bites her lip, casting a furtive glance around the room before leaning back into you, her lips dangerously close to your ear now. The teasing tone in her voice sends a rush of heat through you as she whispers, “If you keep going, I’m not responsible for what happens when we get home.”

A triumphant smirk spreads across your face, proud of how well this is going. Your fingers become bolder, slipping under her panties as you trace the skin below. “Maybe I don’t want to wait until we get home,” you murmur, pushing the boundary just a bit more. But before you can go any further, Alexia’s hand closes around your wrist, pulling it away.

“Patience, mi amor,” she says, her cheeks flushed, the effort to maintain composure obvious as she casts another nervous glance around the room. “You’re impossible,” she mutters, though there’s no real annoyance in her voice – only a mix of frustration and desire.

You can’t help but chuckle, leaning in to lower your voice. “You like it, though. Admit it.”

Her eyes meet yours, a playful warning flickering behind them, but you can see the spark of excitement, the way her body responds even though she’s trying to act unbothered. “You’re lucky we’re in public,” she whispers, her lips brushing against your jaw, sending shivers down your spine. “Or I’d wipe that smug grin right off your face.”

You lean in closer, your lips almost brushing hers, the tension between you electric. “I’d like to see you try,” you murmur, your voice thick with challenge.

Her gaze flickers down to your lips for a fleeting moment before she pulls back, her expression shifting to something more controlled. “Careful,” she says, her hand now sliding up your leg under the table, her fingers applying just enough pressure to make you crave more.

You swallow hard, trying to suppress the groan building in your chest, your body reacting instantly to her touch. “Is this how it’s going to be?” you ask, voice hushed and teasing.

Alexia’s smirk deepens, her fingers continuing their slow, torturous path along your leg. “Maybe. What are you going to do about it?”

Before you can respond, you notice the waiter making his way towards your table. Reluctantly, you pull back, muttering under your breath, “We’ll see who breaks first.”

Alexia straightens up, her posture casual as the waiter approaches, her cheeks still slightly flushed from your teasing. She smiles at him as if nothing happened, but the tension between you lingers, thick in the air. The silent promise of what’s to come later pulses between you, unspoken but undeniable.

As the waiter leaves your table, you watch how Alexia tries her hardest to keep her eyes locked with yours, but you can see the struggle. Despite her best efforts, her gaze keeps drifting down to your lips, almost involuntarily, as if drawn by a magnetic pull. The flicker of longing in her eyes doesn't go unnoticed by you, and it makes you smirk. You lean in slowly, teasingly close, as though you’re about to kiss her, your breath mingling with hers. Her lips part just slightly, a soft, almost desperate whine escaping from her as she waits for the kiss that never comes.

You hold the moment just a beat longer, relishing the effect you’re having on her, and then you pull back ever so slightly. The disappointment in her eyes is clear, and it makes you giggle, the sound light and teasing. But you don’t leave her completely wanting – you press a soft, lingering kiss to the corner of her lips, barely a taste of what she craves, before you withdraw fully.

Without saying a word, you turn your attention to the glass of water in front of you, picking it up with a playful, nonchalant air, leaving Alexia both frustrated and more eager than before.

In response, Alexia's hand slips discreetly under the table, her fingers gliding over your thigh with a new sense of purpose. This time, her touch feels different – there’s no hesitation, no teasing. Her movements are bolder, more intentional, as if she’s decided to take control of the game. Her hand slowly travels upwards, slipping beneath the hem of your dress, her fingertips grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

Just as her touch starts to grow even more daring, she suddenly freezes. Her fingers come to an abrupt halt, her whole body stilling as she realises something unexpected. Her eyes widen ever so slightly, a flicker of surprise flashing across her face. She looks at you with a mixture of disbelief and amusement, her lips twitching as if she's trying to hold back a grin.

“No panties?” she whispers, the words barely audible, but you can hear the incredulity in her voice. “Really?”

You bite your lip, trying not to grin too smugly. Instead of answering, you lean in closer, “I thought you’d appreciate the convenience.” Your voice is soft but laced with a wicked promise.

Alexia lets out a quiet laugh, shaking her head in disbelief, her hand still resting high on your thigh, now much more daring as she processes the revelation. “You’re something else.” 

You shift in your seat, trying to keep your composure, but Alexia is too attuned to your reactions. She notices the way you squirm, the barely restrained tension in your muscles. Her smirk deepens, clearly enjoying the effect she’s having on you.

“This explains a lot,” she whispers, her fingers inching higher. “All this teasing… you’ve been playing dirty from the start.”

You shrug, feigning innocence as your hand rests lightly on her thigh, but there’s no hiding the sly smile on your lips. “It’s not my fault if you can’t keep up,” you murmur, your voice low, challenging.

Alexia raises an eyebrow at your words, her eyes narrowing in playful defiance. “Oh, I’m keeping up just fine,” she replies, her voice dripping with amusement. Her hand brushes higher up your thigh, and you feel a shiver run down your spine as her fingers come dangerously close to exactly where you want her. “But now that I know what you’re hiding...” she pauses, her touch deliberate and slow, “I think I’ll take my time.”

A soft groan escapes your lips, a mix of frustration and excitement bubbling inside you. You try to remain composed, but the heat pooling between your legs makes it impossible to stay unaffected. “You’re enjoying this way too much,” you mutter, your voice breathless and low.

Alexia leans in, her lips ghosting over your ear, her breath hot against your skin. “You started it,” she whispers, her voice thick with desire. Her hand hovers just inches away from where you crave her touch, and the anticipation is almost unbearable. “And I’m going to finish it.”

Her words hang in the air between you, heavy with promise. For a moment, it’s as if you forget where you are, the restaurant fading into the background as the tension between you builds. Your body aches with need, but before you can respond, Alexia pulls her hand away, smirking as you let out a quiet whine of protest.

“Patience,” she repeats, her tone teasing, almost mocking. She leans back in her seat, her hand retreating to rest casually on the table as she sips her drink, her expression cool and collected as if nothing had happened.

The rest of the meal fades into a blur of tactile exchanges, whispered provocations, and fleeting glances. The tension between you and Alexia grows with every touch. Her fingers, casually brushing against your thigh under the table, send jolts of heat through you, and every time your hand trails up her leg, you see her breath hitch slightly. It's no longer just a game – it's a competition, a silent struggle to see who will break first, who will surrender to the tension that's been building since the moment you sat down.

By the time the two of you step out of the restaurant, the tension between you has reached a breaking point, an almost tangible energy that neither of you can ignore. As soon as you settle into the passenger seat of the car, Alexia’s hand immediately finds its way to your thigh, her touch instinctive and possessive.

The road stretches out in front of you, but your focus is nowhere near the drive ahead. All your attention is locked on her hand, feeling the heat of her palm as it slowly inches upwards, pushing the fabric of your dress higher with each deliberate movement. You steal a glance at her, catching the familiar, playful smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. Her eyes flick briefly towards you, filled with knowing mischief as she takes in your reaction – how ready you are for her touch, how easily she has you under her control.

Alexia doesn’t need to say a word; that look alone says everything. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and she’s enjoying every second of it.

You grab her hand instinctively, even though everything in you wants her to continue. "What?" she asks, her voice light, teasing. "You want me to stop now?"

"You’ll crash," you manage to say.

She chuckles softly, the sound filled with amusement. "I won’t," she promises, her tone as steady as her hand on the wheel. "Bebé, I’m a very good multitasker." There’s a hint of pride in her words, as if she knows she’s already won.

You sigh, shifting slightly in your seat to ease the tension in your body, but your hips lift ever so subtly, betraying your need. Alexia notices immediately, a quiet chuckle escaping her as she revels in your response. With a knowing look, she lets her fingers push the fabric of your dress higher, inch by inch, her touch both deliberate and teasing as she slowly slides her hand between your legs. The first slow, calculated slide of her fingers through your folds makes your breath hitch sharply. You lean against the car door, pressing your lips into your palm, trying to stifle the sounds threatening to escape. 

She keeps her face carefully neutral, her eyes fixed on the road, as if nothing at all is happening. Her fingers, however, are anything but indifferent. They move with languid precision, slowly circling your clit, sending waves of pleasure through you, but never enough to push you over the edge. It’s maddening – the way she teases, building you up only to pull back just before you reach that sweet release.

Your hips move on their own, seeking more from her touch, desperate for the release she’s withholding. But just as you feel yourself getting close, her hand withdraws. The absence is immediate and infuriating, and you can’t help the soft whine that escapes your lips. When you glance at her, your eyes pleading, she just smirks, her voice dripping with satisfaction as she says, "It looks like I’m winning, mi amor."

You huff in frustration, and she lets out a soft, triumphant laugh, steering the car into the parking space. There’s a glint of victory in her eyes as she pulls to a stop, unbuckling her seatbelt with that same smug expression that tells you she’s savouring every second of this. She knows exactly what she’s done to you, and it’s written all over her face.

Once you’re out of the car, you wait for her, your body still buzzing with unresolved tension. Alexia rounds the car, and her hand finds the small of your back, guiding you gently but confidently towards the entrance of your apartment building. There’s a permanent grin on her lips, one of pure contentment, of quiet victory. The game may have ended, but you can see the happiness behind her playful smugness – the warmth in her eyes that comes not just from the teasing, but from being with you like this.

When you’re both inside, Alexia’s hands are on you immediately, a rush of hunger in the way her arms circle your waist. There’s no hesitation as she pulls you close, her body flush against yours, her breath mingling with yours in the intimate space between you. Her lips hover just over yours, feathering so close you can almost taste her, but she never quite closes the gap, teasing you with the anticipation of a kiss. 

“You don’t know how much I’ve missed you,” you whisper against her lips, your voice barely holding together from the need you feel. "I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long." The admission trembles in the air between you, raw and exposed.

Alexia’s fingers tighten on your hips in response, her grip almost possessive as she pulls you even closer. Her forehead rests against yours, her eyes dark and intense, the weight of her longing reflected in the way she touches you. “We don’t want to waste any more time then, do we?” she murmurs, her voice a rich blend of desire and amusement, teasing you with the edge of control she still holds.

You shake your head, breathless, and before you can even process it, she lifts you effortlessly, her strength catching you off guard. A surprised squeal leaves your lips, your arms instinctively wrapping around her neck as you cling to her, letting her carry you towards the bedroom. The movement is so seamless, so commanding, and it makes your heart race. “You’re such a brat, you know?” Alexia’s voice vibrates against your skin as she presses her lips to the side of your neck, sending another shiver through you. “Going to dinner without panties, knowing exactly what you were gonna get once we got home.” Her words drip with playful reproach, but there’s something deeper, something darker in the way she says it. 

Before you can respond, she lays you down on the bed with gentle care, her lips brushing your skin in a way that sets you on fire. You let out a soft whimper, your body already aching for more. She shakes her head, amusement dancing in her eyes as she watches you, her lips curving into a smirk. “Such a little tease,” she says, clicking her tongue as if she’s disappointed, though you can see the desire flickering beneath her cool composure.

She leans over you, her presence intoxicating as she finally closes the distance between your lips, capturing you in a slow, heated kiss that feels like it could unravel you from the inside out. Her mouth moves against yours with purpose, each stroke of her tongue teasing, exploring, consuming. It’s slow, sensual, and so utterly Alexia that you feel like you could lose yourself in it forever.

Her hands move immediately, exploring your body with a sense of familiarity and urgency that sends sparks through every inch of your skin. She plays with the thin straps of your dress, fingers grazing your bare shoulders, sliding down your arms, until her hands cup your chest, feeling the swell of your breasts beneath the fabric. Her touch is confident, sure, yet filled with restraint, as if she’s savouring every second, dragging it out just to make you squirm. She moves over your hips, tracing the curve of your body with her palms before pulling away, her eyes dropping to the space between you. 

She bites her lip hard as she looks down, her gaze darkening with lust, her restraint hanging by a thread. You can see it in the way her breath catches, the way her fingers twitch as if she's holding herself back from devouring you.

“Ale, please,” you beg, your voice already breathless, your chest rising and falling rapidly. “You’ve been teasing me all night.”

Her eyes meet yours, and for a moment, she just watches you, her gaze flickering across your face, drinking in every inch of your expression before she finally nods. “You initiated it, no?” she smirks, her voice carrying that familiar teasing lilt as she revels in your need. The way you whine in response only makes her more amused. “Strip,” she commands, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Then get on your hands and knees.”

You don’t hesitate, your fingers fumbling as you work to remove your dress, eyes locked on her as she undoes her own clothes, each layer revealing the toned, beautiful body you’ve been aching to feel. 

Alexia steps away to the drawer, opening it and pulling out the toys that have been left untouched for too long. Your eyes follow her movements, your pulse quickening at the thought of what’s to come. You’re already in position, your body ready and aching, when you hear her behind you, adjusting herself with practised ease. The sound of her putting on the strap sends a fresh wave of arousal through you, your mouth going dry as you wait for what’s next.

The bed dips under her weight as she climbs behind you, and you swallow hard, fighting back the needy whimper that threatens to escape your lips. You feel her hands on you again, those strong, sure fingers caressing the curve of your ass, running up your back, down your thighs, sending shivers along your skin. She leans over you, pressing her lips to your shoulder blades, her breath hot against your skin as she lets out a low groan.

“Fuck, I’ve missed this sight,” she murmurs, her voice thick with desire. You can hear the hunger in it, feel the way her body reacts to yours. Her lips trail down your spine, a light bite at the base of your neck making you gasp. “You doing exactly what I say, my good girl.”

“Alexia,” you moan, your voice barely holding together. “Fuck me already, please.”

She chuckles, her breath hot against your skin as her arm wraps around you, her hand brushing between your legs, teasing, never quite giving you what you want. “Begging already?” she teases, her voice dripping with amusement as you whimper beneath her. “Where’s the fun if I just give you what you want?”

You can’t help the frustrated whine that escapes you, your body aching for more. She smirks, her lips pressing a kiss to your back before her hand slips lower, her fingers gathering your wetness, spreading it over the silicone. The sensation makes you gasp, your hips jerking forwards as you urge her on.

When she’s ready, she fists the toy in her hand, pressing the tip against your entrance, teasing you further. “Is this what you want, baby?” she asks, her voice dark, her control over the moment absolute. “For me to fill you up?”

You nod, your throat tightening as you whimper needily, desperate for her.

“Words,” she presses, her voice firm.

“Yes,” you groan, the word torn from your lips as you feel her pushing inside. “Fuck, Alexia.”

The stretch is intoxicating, your eyes rolling back as she slowly pushes deeper, her thighs meeting the back of yours as she bottoms out inside you. The feeling is heady, overwhelming, and she gives you a moment to adjust before her hips begin to move again, slow, steady thrusts that have you moaning her name in pure ecstasy.

Her hands grip your hips tightly, guiding your body into her movements as her pace picks up, the rhythm of her thrusts driving you higher and higher. The room is filled with the sounds of your moans, the occasional grunt that escapes her as she watches you take her so completely, her eyes never leaving your body.

“You’re taking me so well, bebé,” she murmurs, her voice breathless as her pace quickens, her abs tensing with each thrust.

Her hips roll perfectly, hitting that spot inside you that has your entire body trembling, a string of her name leaving your lips as you moan louder, your body bucking against her in desperate need. You can feel her hand slip between your legs, her fingers finding your clit and rubbing harsh, perfect circles that send you spiralling towards the edge.

“You close already, amor?” she asks, and you nod, barely able to hold yourself together, your embarrassment lost in the haze of pleasure. She smirks at how quickly you’ve come undone, proud of the way you respond to her, and she doesn’t slow down.

Her thrusts continue, deep and precise, as her fingers work over your clit with just the right amount of pressure, and before long, you feel yourself tipping over the edge, your body shaking as your orgasm rips through you, leaving you breathless and boneless beneath her.

You feel yourself release completely, the tension draining from your body as you fall apart around her, your limbs weak, your mind blissfully blank from the intensity of it all.

Alexia doesn’t slow down. Her rhythm is relentless, guiding you with expert control, not allowing you a moment to recover. Your body feels caught between pleasure and sensitivity, and as much as your muscles scream for a break, the heat building between you tells a different story. Desperation claws at your thoughts, and your hand reaches back, instinctively, to try and halt her movements, to get a breath – but she’s quicker, catching your wrist with ease. 

She gently presses your arm behind your back, her fingers firm but unhurried. The soft drag of her breath against your ear as she murmurs, “You can do another, yeah?” makes your stomach tighten. You can only nod, biting your lip as a moan rips from your throat, the sensation too much to hold back.

The pressure inside of you builds, the overstimulation sending tremors through your limbs, making it harder to support yourself. You’re shaking, your body giving in to the power of her movements. Each thrust feels sharper, more precise, and your breaths come in short gasps, your chest rising and falling erratically as you cling to the last remnants of your control.

She notices, of course – how you’re starting to crumble under her, how the weight of your own pleasure is too much to hold yourself up anymore. She knows exactly when to pull back, slowing her pace, dragging it out just enough to give you a second to breathe, but not enough to stop the sensation entirely. The moment she senses you’re close to breaking, she shifts, helping you turn onto your back with care.

You barely have time to settle before your hands fly to her shoulders, instinctively grabbing for her, needing her. Needing the closeness, the reassurance of her presence. Alexia leans in, her body blanketing yours as she resumes her movements with a new intensity. Her elbows rest on either side of your head, and you feel surrounded – by her body, her warmth, the intoxicating rhythm of her hips as they push deeper inside you. 

Your breath hitches as her pace quickens again, each thrust sending you spiralling. It’s the drag of her skin against yours, the way she occasionally brushes over your clit, that makes your nerves feel like they’re on fire. You bite down on her shoulder to ground yourself, the taste of her skin on your lips, but she only responds with a low, satisfied hum, like she revels in the sensation of your teeth sinking into her skin.

Her lips find the side of your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses there, sucking just enough to make you shudder. Her teeth nip at your pulse point before her tongue glides over the spot, soothing the sting with gentle strokes. Your legs tremble beneath her, barely able to stay steady with the way her hips keep grinding into you, harder and faster now.

“Harder,” you beg, your voice breaking, the sound pitiful in your own ears.

Alexia's breath hitches for a moment, her hips stuttering as she responds to your plea. “¿Así te gusta?” she whispers, her voice dripping with desire. Her hips press harder, deeper, and the change in angle sends a sharp shock of pleasure straight through you. The force of it makes you gasp, and your nails dig into her back, dragging down her skin with reckless abandon, leaving red lines in your wake. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you know they’ll leave marks, but you're far beyond caring. All you can think about is how it feels, the sensation of her body against yours, the way she’s making you come undone.

Her lips trail lower, her mouth finding one of your breasts, and when her teeth graze your nipple, you cry out, the mix of pain and pleasure driving you closer to the edge. She sucks with purpose, her tongue swirling over the sensitive bud, and your back arches in response, pressing your chest into her mouth. Your fingers tangle in her hair, pulling at the strands, desperate to keep her there as you tighten around the strap inside you.

She groans as she feels you clench around her, her own pleasure reflected in the sound that fills the room. “Fuck, mi amor, you’re so tight.” Her voice is rough, almost strained, as though she’s barely holding on herself. 

Your nipples harden under her touch, every nerve in your body buzzing with sensation as you near the edge once again. You can feel the tightening in your core, the pressure building with each roll of her hips. She shifts her weight slightly, her tongue licking a slow trail down your chest before her hand slips back between your legs, fingers finding your clit with the same skilled intensity that makes your entire body react.

She rubs harsh, insistent circles over your clit, the pressure almost too much, and your hips buck against her hand. The overstimulation has your senses overwhelmed, your body no longer able to differentiate between pain and pleasure, only that you need more, and fast. The feeling builds impossibly quickly, and when the final wave of your orgasm hits, it crashes over you like a flood. You moan loudly, the sound ripping through the air, and your nails dig deep into her skin, your body writhing beneath her, shaking uncontrollably as the pleasure overwhelms you.

Alexia slows down as you come, her movements becoming softer, more deliberate, helping you ride out the intense sensations. Each stroke inside of you feels like a gentle push, guiding you through the aftershocks, keeping you tethered to reality. 

“You did so well,” she whispers, her lips brushing against your ear as she speaks. There’s a warmth in her voice, a tenderness that makes your chest tighten. She presses a light kiss to your cheek before trailing her lips down your neck again, her mouth moving slower now, each kiss softer, more reverent. “Such a good girl.”

You’re too exhausted to speak, your mouth falling open in a soft, post-orgasmic daze. She takes advantage of the moment, her tongue slipping into your mouth, kissing you with a deep, consuming fervour. The kiss is slow but intense, her lips capturing yours in a way that feels both possessive and tender at the same time. You lose yourself in her for what feels like hours, the rest of the world fading into nothing as you focus on the taste of her, the warmth of her body pressed against yours.

Eventually, she pulls away, her breath coming in soft, shallow pants as she rolls off of you. The sudden emptiness inside you is jarring, but her presence next to you is enough to bring you back down to earth. She lays beside you, both of you breathless, your chests rising and falling in unison. You roll onto your side, your hand coming to rest on her chest, feeling the steady beat of her heart beneath your palm. Your cheek presses against her shoulder, and she turns her head, resting her cheek atop your head, pressing a soft kiss to your hairline. 

“I love you, mi vida,” she whispers, the words almost lost in the quiet of the room, but you feel them deep in your bones. There’s a sincerity there, a kind of love that feels too big for words, but she says it anyway.

“I love you too, Ale,” you whisper back, your lips brushing against her skin as you speak. You kiss her shoulder softly, before shifting to roll completely on top of her. You connect your lips once more, slower this time, savouring the moment. Your hands move lazily, working at the harness around her waist, undoing the straps as you feel the last traces of exhaustion melt away.

The rest of the night is a blur of slow kisses and intimate touches, fingers tracing familiar paths over skin that only you know. There’s a quiet kind of love in the way you move together, the kind that feels almost sacred, like a secret only the two of you will ever fully understand.

[hisui-dreamer]

he lives in you

Characters: Leona, Floyd, Jamil, Lilia

Synopsis: You shared a night of passion with your lover before you left for the other side of the mirror, but fate's cruel hands strike once again as you realise you have to raise his child alone in your original world. Thankfully, your child is incredibly drawn to magic, and they opened a portal...?

Tags: slight angst, fluffy end because im a sap, fem reader, reader gives birth to a child, reunions, bot proofread

Word count: 2.4k+

Notes: uh i was practicing Japanese and researching Japanese names before writing this, so all my name ideas ended up in japanese? if it makes you uncomfortable, you can imagine that reader is japanese hehe

right in time for mother's day, so here's to a celebration of the motherly figures in our lives, blood related or not, for being there for us<3

Part 2✧Part 3✧Part 4✧Masterlist

A few months passed as you settled back into your routine at home. Eventually, with the noticeable changes in your body, it dawned on you that you were with child—his child, your lover from the other side of the mirror whom you could no longer reach.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks turn into months. You had adapted to the trials and tribulations of parenthood. Juggling the responsibilities of work, childcare, and household chores was no easy feat, but you found solace in the small moments of your child's growth and development.

Your child was a true joy to behold, a mirror image of their father in many ways, and you often see the ghost of your past lover in them. Having inherited his magic, your child experimented with their powers, leaving you to support them with what limited knowledge of magic that remained from your NRC days.

On one such experiment, your environment started to shift as a wave of magical energy engulfed you. When you opened your eyes again, he was there, right in front of you—

Hina (日来) with 日 meaning "sun, day" and 来 meaning "coming, future"

Leona reminded you of a shining sun that radiated warmth and light in your life, of how the it would surely shine again no matter how dark the night seemed, and so you named your daughter after that image

your daughter has the clearest emerald eyes and flowing dark brown locks that you often braided in a similar style to her father's

she's very energetic, always curious and asking questions, eager to learn more about the world around her

she's an obedient child, although she's eager to seek your affection and may whine a bit when things don't go her way

if there was one thing that was similar to the Leona you knew, it's that she's extremely clingy and constantly seeks physical affection, hugging your legs and asking for you to carry them any chance she has

and also the fact that she enjoyed her naps a bit too much

her lion ears are a bit of an issue in our world, but you often hide them with hoods, clever hair styling, or simply saying it's a costume

when you told her about the brilliant man her father is, she grew really excited about the possibility of meeting him, and started playing around with magic more to be like the intelligent mage he is

and then it happened, just an ordinary afternoon practicing magic had the two of you transported back to twisted wonderland, face to face to Leona

somehow, he had grown even more handsome in the years you hadn't seen him, but instead of his lazy smile, he looked confident and powerful, like the leader he was always meant to be

A sudden gust of magic swept through the air behind him as he raised his staff in response, only to immediately drop it in shock as your figure came into sight, and beside you, a small child that he had never seen before.

"Herbivore..." he whispered.

Without a second thought, Leona rushed towards you, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He felt a lump forming in his throat as he reached out to embrace you tightly.

"This better not be a dream," he murmured into the crook of your neck as he inhaled your scent. "It's really you."

after a tearful reunion and introduction, Leona quickly excuses himself from his duties with a quick meeting with Falena, and helps you and Hina settle into the palace

since you left, Leona's been working hard to do what he can do as per your promise with him

he's now in charge of foreign affairs and on better terms with his brother after much needed communication

he showers you in affection, he's even clingier than before that it almost starts a rivalry with your daughter

he puts in a lot of effort to spend time with Hina, learning her likes and dislikes and bonding over magic

uncle jack and ruggie are always fun to be around and play with her

though it wasn't his fault, leona feels guilty you had to bare the responsibility on your own for so long, and he puts in a lot of effort to make amends for any mistakes work to build a strong relationship with you two

he has a family now, and you're damn sure he'll protect it with his life

Leona looked down at Hina, feeling a sense of pride and wonder at the little girl standing before him. "Hey there," he said, his voice gentle. "Nice to meet ya, kiddo."

Hina stared at him, her eyes searching his face. "Are you my dad?" she asked, her voice small and uncertain.

Leona's heart ached at the question, knowing that he had missed so much of her life. "Yeah, I'm your dad," he said, reaching out to take her hand.

Hina looked at him for a moment before a smile spread across her face. "Can you show me magic?" she asked, her eyes lighting up with excitement.

Leona felt a sense of joy at her words, feeling a connection with her that he had never felt before. "Of course I can," he said, standing up and taking her hand. "What do you wanna see?"

Sakura (桜) meaning "cherry blossoms"

your daughter has sleek teal hair that reminds you of the sea, a single strand of dark hair, and mismatched eyes in the same manner as Floyd

Floyd had lovingly given you the nickname "Shrimpy", and it only felt right for your daughter to be named Sakura, after the tiny sakura-shrimp

she's incredibly mischievous and there's not a moment of silence with her, she's spontaneous and playful and you've got your hands full

though she is very considerate of you and will listen to your words, she's uncontrollable when she's bored and in need of a spark of interest

she's also a squeezer, much like her father, and hugs you every time she sees you or anyone she likes, and you're thankful her strength hasn't developed too much yet

she enjoys biting you, albeit gently, and you find your arms littered with bite marks, but it's her unique way of showing affection

her eel form won't show unless she's been in the water for too long (thankfully), and she enjoys squeezing you in her eel form even more

ever so curious, she's asked about her father many times, and you've told her how carefree and easygoing her father is, and that he'd love her the moment she saw her

which leads you to her magic actually teleporting you to him, her spontaneous idea having manifested itself, and you found in a dimly lit room similar to the Mostro Lounge

Floyd looked matured, his hair sleeked back and his features sharpened, though his wry smile that you loved had stayed the same

Floyd's eyes widened with shock and disbelief, and his steps quickened as he rushes towards you, his long arms outstretched in a gesture of longing. As he got closer, he noticed the beautiful and curious-looking child standing close to you.

"Shrimpy?" he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "No way... It's really you!"

Floyd pulled you close, holding you tightly as if he never wanted to let go. "I missed ya so much, I wish I hadn't let ya go," he said, his voice choked with emotion as tears threatened to spill. "You're not allowed to leave again, okay?"

Floyd is so ecstatic he can't stand still, once he's calmed down a bit, be immediately carries Sakura and drags you to Jade and Azul

Azul and Jade are pleasantly surprised at your return, and it's a warm welcome back

the two of them are glad Floyd won't be moping any time soon

the trio have now expanded into a franchise and divulged into many businesses, though Floyd largely acts as Azul's right-hand man

Now that you're back, he refuses to be apart from you, always holding onto you tightly and afraid you might disappear just like how suddenly you appeared

he does get mood swings where he's upset or angry, not at you though, just at how unfair things were and how he couldn't be there for you

he's a good eel who does everything to make sure you and Sakura are happy and comfortable, often cooking meals for you two

he's so curious about Sakura and enjoys playing with her and lifting her high up in the air

don't worry, he's extremely careful, this precious gem is why you got back to him!

Jade is the best uncle and Sakura wants to marry him??? (honestly same)

poor Azul is getting pranked by the daughter- father duo, though Sakura does comfort him afterwards with squeezes and kissss

Floyd looked down at Sakura, and he saw her staring back at him with wide, curious eyes in the opposite colours of his eyes. Though she resembled him physically, there was an air about her that was so distinctly his Shrimpy.

"Heya," Floyd said, trying to sound friendly. "I'm your dad."

Sakura giggled and reached out to him, her tiny hands grasping at his hands. Floyd froze, not sure what to do, letting her yand his hand forward. But then, she opened her mouth and bit down on finger.

"Hey!" Floyd cried, pulling back in surprise.

Sakura just laughed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Floyd couldn't help but laugh too, despite the pain in his finger.

"Yer a feisty one, aren't ya, Sakura-shrimpy?" he teased, grinning down at her as he ruffled her hair. "You know," he whispered, "you can't just go around biting people like that. But I like your style."

Isami (功己) 功 meaning "achievement, credit, honour, merits" and 己 meaning "self, serpent, snake."

your son has smooth ebony locks and sharp grey eyes that make him look slightly intimidating

Jamil had shown you how much he valued his achievements over his social status, so you chose a name the could embody him

he's a quiet child who's always attentive and careful

he's rather shy in front of other people, but when it's you he'll soak up all of your affection and stare at you with longing eyes seeking praise

he's a cute helper at home too! he always volunteers to help you with chores and cook in the kitchen, though you're careful he's not close to anything sharp or dangerous

he does have an inherent fear of bugs, something he's inherited from Jamil, but thankfully you've taught him to be less destructive than his father

do expect screams and for him to be crying as a little fly chases him around though

he's incredibly smart and talented at magic, easily grasping the concepts of magic you can only teach him theoretically

when you told him about his father, you've told him about the diligent man that his father is, and how would let his guard down around those he treasured

he had listened quietly without much of a change in his expression, but you could tell there was a bubbling excitement building up in his eyes

and no long after that, he managed to teleport the two of you to a warm, airy room of marble walls

Jamil's features had sharpened, he seemed more openly confident and comfortable with himself

Jamil's heart skipped a beat as he saw you. It had been five years since he bid your farewell at the mirror chamber and lost you forever. And yet here you were standing here in front of him with a child in tow, a child who resembled him so much.

"It can't be..." he murmurs.

Without hesitation, Jamil dropped all the papers and rushed towards you, his heart pounding furiously. His eyes locked with yours, and in that moment, time seemed to stand still. He could see the love and longing still shining in your eyes, and he knew deep down that he had never stopped loving you.

Jamil couldn't stop the tears that began streaming down his face. "I've missed you so much," he said, his voice raspy. "Letting you go is the worst decision I've ever made." He reached out and pulling you into a tight embrace, his arms shaking with emotions.

he's a bit overwhelmed but still so thankful you're back in his life

Kalim barges in at this time and exclaims in surprise at your return and ??? OMG JAMIL YOU HAVE A SON?!!

Jamil has half a mind to dissuade him from holding a banquet immediately to welcome you back, and instead take things slow to not overwhelm you or Isami

asks Kalim for some privacy and the second he's away, he melts into your embrace

he hasn't felt so at ease in so long

if he wakes up in the morning and you're not right there beside him, he's panicking and searching all over the place for some confirmation you're still here

he's very curious about Isami and asks him all sorts of questions to piece together his development and personality

they definitely have a rivalry over who's braver over bugs but it just ends up with the two hugging you for safety

he's a bit awkward with how careful he is with his emotions, so it takes Isami some time to fully trust him

but trust me, Jamil will go above and beyond for his family and there's no way Isami will have to endure what Jamil did in his childhood

Jamil's eyes widened in surprise and wonder. He couldn't believe that they had created a life together. He knelt down to the Isami' eye level and looked into his eyes. "Hello there," he said, his voice gentle and warm. "What's your name?"

Isami starred back at him, his eyes wide with distrust and caution before he buried his face in your legs. Jamil chuckled softly. "It's okay," he comforted. "You don't have to be shy around me. I'm your dad."

Isami looked up at him again, this time with a mix of curiosity and wonder. "Daddy?" they said, testing the word out.

Jamil smiled warmly as nodded, his heart swelling with love and joy. "Yes, daddy," he parroted. "And I promise I'm never going to leave you or your mommy again."

Yuri (百合) meaning "lily"

Lilia's name always reminded you for lily flowers, and what better name for your daughter to embody him?

your daughter has straight raven hair with some of the hair flipping upwards resembling two horns, angular fae ears, and bright crimson eyes

she's always up for pranks and mischief, it's rare to see her without a smile

she loves exploring places, if you keep your eyes off her for one second, she's letting her curiosity take her to whatever she wants

if you're serious and stern though, she will listen to you, she wouldn't dare make her mother upset!

she's friendly with everyone and isn't shy to say hi to neighbors or absolute strangers

she's not overly affectionate, but she definitely enjoys hugs and kisses from you

she has an odd habit of taking stray animals back home in an attempt to adopt them, so you have little adventures with her trying to find an owner

do not let her in the kitchen

she has surely inherited her father's cooking abilities, somehow, she can render even a piece of toast beyond human consumption

magic comes as second nature to her, and she's always standing on ceilings

gosh her eyes absolutely sparkled when you told her about the teasing and mischievous fae that is her father

and soon, the portal opened and you found yourself in a gothic castle lit up by green candles

He's a lot taller, his hair longer and reaching his waist, and more enchanting than ever

Lilia stood in shock as your family figure come into sight. In all his years of living, he had never been so utterly stunned. After all these years, you had finally returned to him.

"Beastie..." Lilia gasped, his voice catching in his throat.

With a surge of energy, Lilia broke free from the trance-like state and hurried towards you, his hair streaming behind him like a dark flag as he enveloped you tightly in his embrace. "After all these years, you've truly come back to me?"

Carefully, Lilia held you at arm's length, studying your matured features, etching them into his memory like a cherished work of art. His eyes traced the lines and contours of your face, memorizing every detail that time had etched upon you.

"My, how you've grown," Lilia murmured, a mix of pride and wistfulness coloring his words. "The years have shaped you into a remarkable individual."

it's family reunion time!!!

he immediately drags you to the throne room where malleus, silver and sebek are

malleus is now king with two incredibly reliable bodyguards, and Lilia's his most trusted advisor

malleus is so glad his dear human friend is back, silver is satisfied that his father will have someone to be with, and sebek is screaming about Yuri, though she enjoys his loudness

for a while, Lilia is extremely affectionate, trying to make up for all the years that had gone by

when you're sleeping together at night, he hugs you tightly and it's difficult to leave his embrace

he definitely tries to cook for you two, going on and on about how the two of you need to stay healthy and need lots of nutrients

you always volunteer your portion for Yuri, and she'll gladly eat whatever her father has cooked for her

silver is an older brother often on babysitting duty, and Yuri loves watching him spar with sebek and also wants to learn

Sebek is quite fond of Yuri, and he sees his half-fae self in her

Lilia is always trying to fun with Yuri, bouncing her high up in the air and teaching her to hang upside down and swing around

plans so many family vacations, he can't wait to be exploring places with his two darlings

"Is she... ours?" Lilia asked. At your nod, he reached out to caress Yuri's cheek, his touch gentle as if he were touching fragile porcelain.

"Well, I'll be damned," Lilia chuckled, his voice cracking with emotion. "I never thought I'd be a father again. But I'm glad to meet you, little one. What's your name?"

Yuri giggled and and beamed at his touch. "My name's Yuri," she said, her voice sweet as honey.

"Yuri," Lilia repeated, his heart swelling with emotion. "What a beautiful name for my beautiful girl," he reached up to fondle her hair. "You know, Yuri," Lilia said, his voice growing serious. "I may not have been there for you when you were born, but I promise I'll always be here for you from now on. No matter what happens, I'm your father, and I'll always love you darling."

Part 2✧Part 3✧Part 4✧Masterlist

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[gutsby]

Joel Miller

Waiting Game (dbf!Joel)

Joel has mastered the art of self-control in all areas except one: not fucking his friend’s daughter. A cross-country road trip home from college takes a hard turn when he’s forced to share a motel room with you.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

One shots for the Waiting Game ‘verse

Homemade: While your dad’s watching a movie downstairs, you and his best friend decide to make one of your own.

Diehard: Joel tries Viagra for the very first time.

Ruined!: Joel is an old man who struggles to cum sometimes. You’ve got time to kill and a tight hole to fill.

Cabin Fever (Dark!Joel x Dark!Reader) [DEAD DOVE]

Joel saves your life, but help comes at a price.

Confines: Joel locks you up in a subterranean bunker.

Finders Keepers (bfd!Joel)

When you find an old shirt of Mr. Miller’s lying around, you can’t resist. When he finds you humping a pillow and moaning his name, neither can he.

Cry, Baby

Joel fucks you to the point of tears. That’s all.

Just Peachy [anal]

Joel’s got a jealous streak and a bold idea.

Wingman (himbo!Joel crackfic)

Your bestie braves the tampon aisle for you.

Watch Your Mouth

Joel teaches you to keep quiet during sex.

Love Tap (dad!Joel)

Old habits die hard with your husband—touching you at inappropriate times is one of them.

If You Like Piña Coladas (neighbor!Joel)

You secretly make Joel a profile on Hinge. Then he shows you exactly why he doesn’t need one.

My Body, His Choice [freeuse]

After a long day, Joel just needs some relief.

Who’s Your Daddy? (stepdad!Joel)

You get stuck in the washing machine. Thankfully, your stepdad is around to help you out.

Make It Stick

Joel never thought he’d need a vasectomy. Then, one night, he accidentally finishes inside you.

Cowboy Killers

On a mission to find—and fight—your best friend’s lying, cheating boyfriend at the bar, you end up throwing your drink in the wrong face and landing in a sticky situation with Joel Miller, who never plays fair.

Seeing Pink [DD/LG]

Joel steals more of your innocence every day. Fortunately, you love to give as much as he loves to take.

Bucky Barnes

Wedded Bliss (Mob!Bucky)

The marriage was arranged, and the sex is deranged. Bucky is so obsessed with your pussy that he almost forgets he’s meant to be faking this whole thing—and hating it, like sworn enemies are supposed to do.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Daryl Dixon

Dead Ringer

Weeks of separation and sexual frustration come to a head when Daryl pays you a visit in the middle of the night. Whether it's the product of your own sex-deprived subconscious or reality, you can't be sure—and couldn't care less. Daryl wants to fulfill the fantasy any way he can.

Easy Street

You steal a cop car and almost run Daryl over en route to the Sanctuary. You can’t decide if you want to fight him, fuck him, or bring him back to Negan. Lucky for you, Daryl is game for all three.

Nighthawk

You decide to bring Spencer to the neighborhood Halloween bash to take your mind off your breakup with Daryl. Your ex isn't so easily convinced of your intentions and decides there's no better place than his motorcycle to show you just how much he misses you.

Cherry Pie

You know virtually nothing about sex, and Daryl’s done it all. Together, you take on an impromptu anatomy lesson, and you learn that Daryl has a lot more to teach you than what’s covered in the textbooks.

Walker Bait

An unforeseen foray into a sex shop leaves you and Daryl trapped between a plastic cock and a hard place as a herd of walkers closes in. Angry sex ensues.

Grow a Uterus and We’ll Talk

Daryl has a bad case of baby fever, to put it lightly. You’re practically terrified of children. Rick lends you his kid for the night, and together, you come to learn that parenthood might not be the worst thing in the world. Even easier than baking muffins, one might say.

Honey Trap

You’ve been tasked with two simple jobs: infiltrate Alexandria’s community and bring intel back to your boss by any means necessary. When your entry point into the group takes the form of a familiar blue-eyed archer, you expect this to be your easiest gig yet—that is, until your prey decides to hunt you back.

Pregnant Pause

Babymaking is a bit trickier than anticipated, and months have passed with no sign of pregnancy. When your period finally doesn’t show up on time, you and Daryl act fast and head straight for the pharmacy—and get a little caught up along the way.

Mr. Dixon

Your efforts to seduce the DILF next door have all failed spectacularly, so you decide a wet hot car wash in front of his house is in order. Mr. Dixon is less than impressed with your antics and plans to teach you a lesson in good manners and ‘neighborliness.’

I’m a Good Girl, Officer!

Apparently flashing your tits to truckers on the freeway is frowned upon in small towns like yours. When three familiar King County cops take charge of the case, you learn they punish bad girls a little differently.

Playing Dangerous

Working undercover in a seedy part of town, homicide detective Daryl sees you in your skimpy club attire and mistakes you for a hooker. A wrongful arrest makes for a funny way to foreplay, but you’re still game.

Fake It Til You Make It (Or Drown)

Daryl finds out you faked an orgasm. Instead of getting mad, he decides to get even.

Best Served Cold

Since your fiancé can’t seem to keep his hands off of Lori, you decide Daryl is the perfect way to make him pay. Revenge sex has never felt so good.

Coming Soon:

Bite the Bullet

Back at the prison, new recruits have been showering you with gifts. One of these presents doesn’t sit quite right with Daryl, and he decides it’s time to let the men know just how he feels—and who you belong to.

Atlantic City

A very drunk Daryl meets a stripper in Jersey and wastes no time putting a ring on her finger. With the late, great Elvis Presley presiding, the two get hitched in a slipshod ceremony a couple weeks before the world descends into chaos. This marriage may be short-lived, but damn if the honeymoon won’t be one to remember.

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