#often quite unexpectedly moving
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xx-vergil-xx · 6 months ago
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most niche 0 audience post but y’all tell me shane from stardew valley and sam loudermilk are not like, on the same axis of guy. post-jock on one end post-punk on the other. anyway they should bring back loudermilk and stardew valley shouldn’t require so much watering of my goddamn fucking crops
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mononijikayu · 2 months ago
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if the world was ending, i’d wanna be next to you — itadori yuji and ryomen sukuna.
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“You’re scared, little one.” Sukuna observes, voice low and taunting. “Quite a face I’ve never seen in a long time.” Your heart pounds, every instinct screaming at you to run, to get away from him. But something roots you in place, the inexplicable connection between the face you loved and the one you now feared, pulling you in two directions at once. “How low you’ve come, little one.” he continues, his voice dripping with amusement. “Really? A green boy like him?” He leans in closer, his presence suffocating. “An insult to your standards, little one.”
GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence;
WARNING/S: spoilers for jjk chapter 271, not safe for work, angst, fluff, one sided romance, eventual romance, conflicted feelings, hurt/comfort, reincarnation, happy ending, hurt, physical touch, character death, mourning, loneliness, pain, grief, afterlife, internal conflict, future, letting go, depiction of moving forward, depiction of one-sided relationship, depiction of rebirth, depiction of internal conflict, depiction of complicated relationship, depiction of character death, depiction of canon related violence, depiction of loneliness, mention of grief, mention of illness, mention of loneliness, depiction of happy end, true form! sukuna, itadori yuji, reincarnated concubine! reader;
WORD COUNT: 11k words
NOTE: this was highly requested, that concubine reader from the other woman has some closure and freedom and happiness in her next life. well, this is it. i feel like after having read chapter 271 completely, i feel like this was also a good sort of closure on sukuna's character. as ive said, i wasn't satisfied much, but i decided to write a path of my own here. and i hope you like it!!! i love you all <3
main masterlist
the other woman masterlist
if you want to, tip! <3
kayu's playlist, side 1500;
THE PAST WAS SOMETHING THAT INTRIGUED YOU. You used to wonder if you had a life before this one. The thought lingered like a shadow on quiet nights, gnawing at the edges of your consciousness. You were always curious: Was it a good life? Did you laugh often? Were you loved? And in the end, did you grow old surrounded by warmth, or did your story close abruptly, lost to the currents of time? These questions, though unspoken, echoed through your mind like the turning pages of an unfinished book.
Yet, it’s in moments like this—simple, undemanding, and unexpectedly tender—that those questions fall away. You realize that the answer doesn’t matter as much as you once thought. You and Itadori Yuji, sitting side by side, the air filled with the sound of his laughter, his energy contagious and effortless. It's not always what you do together, but how he has a way of making everything feel lighter, even when life is at its heaviest.
In these instances, where time seems to slow down and the weight of the past dissolves, you’re reminded that perhaps the life before—if it existed at all—was not as important as the one unfolding now. This is where the heart finds its peace. Being with Yuji, you feel that indescribable warmth. It’s the warmth of being cared for, the joy of connection, the quiet happiness of simply being. Moments like this feel like the reward of a life well-lived, even if the past is a mystery.
Maybe in another life, you were loved. Maybe you weren’t. But in this one, as you sit here with Yuji, you feel blessed in a way that transcends time, as if this companionship, this simplicity, is enough to fill whatever came before.
You glance over at Yuji, who’s still laughing, the corners of his eyes crinkled in that way that makes him look so carefree, so utterly at peace. It’s moments like this that make you forget about the world outside.
“You know, Yuji,” you say, leaning back a bit, “sometimes I wonder if I had a life before all of this. Like, did I have a good life? Was I happy? Did I do anything important?” Your voice trails off, unsure if you’re even making sense. It’s one of those thoughts that sounds bigger in your head, harder to explain aloud.
Yuji pauses, the smile still lingering on his lips but his eyes now softening as he looks at you. “I dunno about a past life,” he says, shrugging in that easy, nonchalant way of his, “but I think it doesn’t really matter, right? I mean, what’s important is now, right here. And… if you’re happy now, then that’s enough, isn’t it?”
You look at him, surprised by the simplicity of his words. Yuji always has a way of cutting through complicated feelings with such earnestness, and it hits you every time.
“Yeah, but what if I didn’t get that? What if I didn’t get the chance to be happy then?” you say, not sure why you're pushing the point. Maybe you want to hear more of his optimism, that unwavering belief in the present.
Yuji thinks for a second, rubbing the back of his neck. “Then… maybe that’s why you’re here now. To have those moments. To feel that happiness.” He grins suddenly, almost sheepish. “And hey, if that’s true, then I guess it’s my job to make sure you’re having a good time in this life.”
You smile, something warm settling in your chest. "You think so? That’s your job now?"
“Yep!” Yuji says with a bright nod. “And honestly? I think I’m doing pretty good at it, don’t you?” He nudges you playfully, and you can’t help but laugh.
“Yeah,” you admit, feeling lighter. “Yeah, you’re doing a pretty good job.”
Yuji leans back, satisfied. “See? No need to worry about the past. We’re making good memories right now. And who knows, maybe in the next life, we’ll be laughing about this one.”
You chuckle at the thought, realizing he’s right in a way. The present, with all its little joys, is more than enough. And with Yuji by your side, it feels like it always will be.
Itadori Yuji was your opposite—he was vibrant, bursting with energy, like the sun at its highest peak. Where you were quiet, thoughtful, perhaps a little reserved, Yuji was a whirlwind of light, so bright it was impossible not to be pulled into his orbit. He was the type of person who loved easily, fiercely, without hesitation. In the short time you had known him, it felt like he had illuminated parts of you that you didn’t even realize had been in shadow.
Six months. That’s how long he had been in your life, and in that brief window, Yuji became your biggest friend. He was the kind of friend who made you forget your worries, who could turn a mundane moment into something extraordinary just by being there. 
You weren’t sure when it happened, but somewhere along the way, your feelings for him deepened into something more. You didn’t just care for him, you were falling for him. His smile, his laugh, the way he’d look at you with such unguarded sincerity—it all crept into your heart before you had a chance to stop it.
But then, as suddenly as he had entered your life, he was gone.
You mourned him in the rawest sense, the grief hitting you like a wave, unrelenting and suffocating. You had barely begun to process what he meant to you, and now you were left with nothing but memories. Memories that once brought joy now twisted into something painful, aching. The world felt dimmer without him, like someone had extinguished the light you had grown so accustomed to.
You grieved the moments you never had, the confessions that were never spoken. You grieved the time you lost and the love you never got to fully express. And in the quiet, lonely nights, you found yourself missing even the smallest things—his goofy grin, the way he’d always try to cheer you up, the warmth he carried with him wherever he went.
Itadori Yuji had changed your world in just six months, and now, with him gone, you didn’t know how to go back to how things were before him. Maybe you never would.
And now, you stand face to face with someone else. Someone you didn’t know—someone that terrified you. Ryomen Sukuna. The King of Curses, wearing Yuji’s face but twisted into something cold and malevolent. His presence was overwhelming, a suffocating aura that made your skin crawl, your heart race in dread. The Yuji you had known, the boy you had fallen for, was nowhere to be found in the dark, calculating red eyes that now gazed at you.
But as you meet Sukuna’s gaze, there’s something strange—something unsettling in its familiarity. Amidst the malice, the sadistic smirk, and the chilling sense of power, there’s a flicker of something that shouldn’t be there. Something… almost tender. A subtle glint of fondness that feels utterly out of place in someone like him.
Your breath catches in your throat. It doesn’t make sense. Sukuna should have no reason to look at you this way, no reason to show anything other than contempt or amusement. And yet, there it is—just beneath the surface, a strange warmth, a recognition.
He steps closer, and you instinctively take a step back, fear surging through you like ice in your veins. This wasn’t Yuji. This wasn’t the boy who made you feel safe, who filled your days with laughter and light. This was a monster. A curse. But the way Sukuna’s eyes linger on you, the way his lips curve in a slow, deliberate smirk—there’s something disturbingly familiar in it. A haunting echo of the person you lost.
“You’re scared, little one.” Sukuna observes, voice low and taunting. “Quite a face I’ve never seen in a long time.”
Your heart pounds, every instinct screaming at you to run, to get away from him. But something roots you in place, the inexplicable connection between the face you loved and the one you now feared, pulling you in two directions at once.
“How low you’ve come, little one.” he continues, his voice dripping with amusement. “Really? A green boy like him?” He leans in closer, his presence suffocating. “An insult to your standards, little one.”
You swallow, throat dry, unable to tear your eyes away from his. “You’re not Yuji.” you whisper, the words feeling like a betrayal, even though you know they’re true.
“No.” Sukuna agrees, a dark chuckle escaping his lips. “I’m not. I’d rather not be. But…” His eyes narrow, that strange fondness flashing again, almost as if he’s toying with something deeper. “It’s far better that it is I in front of you.”
Your chest tightens at his words, the weight of them sinking in. It’s impossible, and yet… something in Sukuna’s gaze—something about the way he looks at you—makes you feel like, in some twisted way, you’re still staring into the remnants of Yuji. Or perhaps the remnants of what could have been.
“Stay back!”
“How cruel, little one. When I was your life.” Sukuna says, almost thoughtfully. “You grieved for him. A brat. And yet, here I am, standing right in front of you. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
His words feel like a cruel mockery, slicing through your defenses with the precision of a knife. Yet, amid the taunts and the darkness that envelops him, there’s an undercurrent of truth that stings—a painful reminder of everything you’ve lost. You find yourself grappling with an unsettling confusion, a whirlwind of emotions that makes your head spin.
This is a monster, you remind yourself. A malevolent being born of curses and chaos. You do not know him, no matter how he tries to push, no matter how his eyes—those dark, swirling eyes that resemble Yuji’s—seem to reach deep into your soul, searching for something buried within. You’re scared. Scared of the implications, scared of the truth that threatens to unravel everything you thought you understood.
You had wanted Yuji back—longed for him, missed him so much that it hurt. The ache in your heart was a constant companion, an echo of laughter and warmth that once filled your days. You had spent countless nights wishing for a miracle, hoping to see that familiar, infectious smile again. But now, faced with the twisted reality of what stood before you, you weren’t sure if you could handle the price of that wish.
Could this—this—be the cost? A piece of Yuji entangled in a form so horrifying, so devoid of the light he once radiated? The very thought makes you recoil. You want to reject it, to deny that any part of Yuji could reside within Sukuna. But the familiarity in Sukuna’s gaze, the hints of fondness mixed with malice, make it impossible to ignore.
You take a shaky breath, grounding yourself as you try to separate the remnants of your grief from the reality before you. “You’re not him, stop. Stop talking!” you say again, more forcefully this time, but it feels like a hollow declaration. Deep down, you know it’s not enough. The monster in front of you wears Yuji’s face, and it shakes you to your core.
Sukuna steps closer, his presence a dark shadow looming over you, and you can’t help but feel trapped in this moment. You wonder if you should flee, escape the suffocating tension that surrounds you, but something keeps you rooted. It’s as if a part of you is drawn to this interaction, compelled to understand, to confront the tangled web of loss and longing that you’ve been avoiding.
“Tell me, little one.” Sukuna murmurs, his voice low and almost teasing. “What is it you miss about him? The laughter? The heroism? Or is it simply the idea of what he represented—hope?”
His words pierce through the fog of confusion, and you find yourself grappling with the truth of them. What did you miss about Yuji? Was it just the memories of the boy who filled your life with laughter, or was it something deeper—a feeling of safety, a light in the darkness that made everything feel manageable? The longing you felt was so raw, so visceral, but now it felt tainted, complicated by the monstrous form before you.
“I don’t know…..I….” you admit, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions. “I just know that I wanted him back. I wanted him to stay.” The admission slips out before you can stop it, a soft confession echoing in the heavy silence.
Sukuna watches you closely, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “And yet here I am, standing in his place.” he says, his tone laced with dark amusement. “Perhaps you should reconsider what it is you truly prefer, little one.”
His words hang in the air, heavy with implications you’re not ready to confront. The dread creeps back in, entwined with that lingering curiosity. You realize, with a shiver, that this moment is a threshold—a chance to either run away from the painful truth or face it head-on. You don’t know what it means for you or what it might cost, but deep down, you understand that avoiding Sukuna will not bring Yuji back.
Caught in this whirlwind of emotions, you stand there, heart pounding, feeling the walls close in around you. The weight of grief and longing collides with fear, and you can’t shake the feeling that in this moment, every choice you make could lead to something irrevocable. The haunting question lingers: What if you truly do remember? And what would that mean for both Yuji and the monster that now embodies him?
Sukuna smiles, a slow, dangerous curve of his lips, and somehow, even through the fear, you feel it—the remnants of Yuji still flickering in the dark recesses of this cursed form. And it breaks your heart all over again.
You swallow hard, your heart pounding as you look into Sukuna’s eyes, those dark, unsettling orbs that seem to mock everything you once knew. But you force the words out anyway, your voice trembling but determined. “I don’t remember you.”
Sukuna snickers, his laughter low and taunting. It sends a chill down your spine, as if he’s amused by some private joke you’re not in on. He leans in slightly, tilting his head, his smirk widening into something more dangerous, more possessive. “Is that what you tell me after all this time, little one?”
The way he says it—so familiar, so intimate—makes your breath catch. It’s like he’s speaking of something only the two of you should know, something hidden beneath the surface of your shared history. But how? You’ve never met Sukuna before. And yet… something in his voice, in the way he calls you little one, stirs something deep inside you. A flicker of something you can’t quite place, something buried.
You take a step back, shaking your head, trying to keep your composure. “I don’t know you. You’re not Yuji, you’re not….” you say again, though this time it sounds more like a plea. A desperate attempt to hold onto the truth, to make sense of the chaos swirling around you.
Sukuna’s grin only deepens. He watches you with a look that’s far too knowing, as if he can see right through your confusion, right through your walls. “Oh, but you do, little one.” he purrs, his voice dripping with dark amusement. “Perhaps you just don’t want to remember.”
Your pulse quickens as his words settle over you, heavy with implications. His gaze feels like it’s piercing through you, dredging up memories you aren’t even sure exist. Could there be something you’re missing? Something you’ve forgotten, or worse—something you’ve buried?
“Look at you, little one. More fragile than what you had been.” Sukuna continues, his voice lowering to something almost dangerous. “Pretending you don’t know. But your eyes betray you. You know me. Maybe not in this life… but somewhere, deep down.” He lifts a hand, lazily gesturing to himself. “You’ve always known me.”
Your chest tightens at the weight of his words, at the way they seem to pull you into something far more complex than you can grasp. You feel torn, the familiar pull of Yuji clashing with the terrifying presence of Sukuna. There’s a part of you that wants to run, to escape whatever this is. But another part of you—the part that feels that flicker of recognition when he speaks, when he looks at you—keeps you frozen in place.
“I don’t…” you start, your voice faltering. “I don’t understand.”
Sukuna laughs again, that low, predatory sound that makes your stomach churn. “Of course you don’t. But you will, in time.” His eyes gleam with something dark and possessive. “I’m not going anywhere, little one. So you’ll have all the time in the world to remember.”
Your hands tremble at your sides, the fear still coursing through you, but now there’s something else. Something far more dangerous than fear—a curiosity, a pull you can’t explain. Even though you know you shouldn’t, you’re drawn to him, to the way his words tug at something deep inside you, something lost.
Sukuna takes another step closer, his presence overwhelming, his gaze never leaving yours. “And when you do remember,” he whispers, his voice dropping into something almost tender, “you’ll realize that it’s not this brat you mourn, little one.”
Your heart skips a beat, the words hitting you like a punch to the gut. You want to deny it, to push him away, to convince yourself that the darkness in Sukuna’s eyes holds no truth. But you can’t shake the unsettling feeling that maybe, just maybe, there’s a twisted truth in what he’s saying—something buried so deep inside you that it makes your skin prickle. And that terrifies you more than anything else at this moment.
“You have better memory than that.” His voice is smooth, a honeyed drawl that curls around you, laced with a sinister undertone. He steps closer, and you can feel the warmth radiating from his body, a heat that’s both inviting and suffocating. His breath brushes against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine, and you find yourself caught in his gaze—those scarlet eyes gleaming with an intensity that both captivates and horrifies you.
“Try to remember me.” he continues, the words dripping with a twisted sense of familiarity, a beckoning that both draws you in and repels you. There’s an almost playful cruelty in his tone, as if he knows the power he holds over you in this moment—knows that your heart is already torn, straddling the line between longing and fear.
You swallow hard, your throat dry as you grapple with the conflicting emotions swirling within you. The essence of Yuji—the boy who brought light and laughter into your life—now feels irreversibly entwined with the dark curse standing before you. 
The memory of his warmth, his laughter, and his unwavering kindness feels like a distant dream, overshadowed by the reality of Sukuna’s presence. And yet, the way Sukuna looks at you, the way he carries himself, evokes echoes of the boy you loved. It’s confusing, maddening, and all-consuming.
“Don’t you want to know what’s buried inside you?” he taunts softly, leaning in even closer, as if sharing a secret only you can hear. “What really lies behind that grief? The truth of your feelings? Your past?”
You shudder at his words, feeling as though he’s reaching into the deepest corners of your mind, teasing out thoughts you’re not ready to confront. The idea of facing whatever remnants of Yuji’s essence are hidden within this creature, this manifestation of all your fears and sorrows, makes you want to flee. But the truth is, you’re caught in a web of curiosity and dread, tethered to the boy who once filled your heart.
“Stop it.” you whisper, your voice shaking. “You’re not him. You’re not Yuji.”
Sukuna chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that reverberates in the stillness around you. “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. I wear this brat’s face, little one. And I am here —whether you want to accept it or not.” His scarlet eyes bore into yours, a challenge lingering in the air. “And whether you like it or not, he’s a part of me too.”
The weight of his words settles heavily in your chest, a visceral truth that makes you want to scream. How could he say that? How could he twist the memory of Yuji into something so dark and cruel? But as you stand there, heart racing, you realize that he’s right in a way you’re terrified to explore. The grief you feel is a testament to the love you once shared, and now that love has taken on a new, twisted form.
As Sukuna’s presence looms over you, you feel the tension of this moment wrapping around you like a shroud. The air is thick with uncertainty, and you’re caught in a battle between wanting to retreat into safety and an insatiable desire to confront the truth lurking just beyond your grasp.
“Good night, little one.” he repeats, the command soothing and commanding all at once. “And when you wake, perhaps you’ll see things more clearly. I promise you, it will be… enlightening.”
With those final words, he steps back, allowing you to breathe again, but the weight of his gaze lingers. As he fades into the shadows, you’re left standing there, your heart pounding in your chest. The fear that grips you is palpable, but beneath it lies a flicker of curiosity—a yearning to understand what lies hidden within, to uncover the truths that connect you to both Yuji and Sukuna.
You know you should feel safe in your denial, but as you process everything, you realize that the only way forward is to confront this new reality. Whatever it takes, you have to know what Sukuna means, what truth lies within you, and what it might reveal about the love you lost and the monster that now stands in his place.
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A THOUSAND YEARS HAD PASSED AND YET, HE THINKS A LOT ABOUT THAT LAST WISH. It was Ryomen Sukuna’s hope that you would not be reborn like this. After the years of misery he had put upon you, such loneliness and bitterness — this is not what you deserve. In the depths of his cursed heart, he had wished for you to have a better life—a life filled with warmth and love, a life free from the shadows that clung to him. 
He had imagined a future where you would thrive, where your laughter would echo in the halls of a home filled with joy and not tied to the darkness he embodied. He wanted for your hope to come true, for you to carve out your own path, one that didn’t intertwine with his own cursed existence. So that you may be free from the cage of him, and fly away.
Yet, here you were, standing in the remnants of a life he had never wished for you. A life as a sorcerer, a role steeped in danger and darkness, where you faced the very curses he had once commanded. And most of all, you found yourself in adoration of his vessel, Itadori Yuji—the very embodiment of what Sukuna had wanted to keep separate from you.
Every day was a constant reminder of that bittersweet reality. You had grown to love the brat, the boy whose spirit shone brighter than anyone else’s, whose laughter brought light to the darkest corners of your heart. He had an infectious enthusiasm that made the world seem a little less heavy, a little less daunting. And now that he was alive, Ryomen Sukuna could only watch as you found the joy that he could not give you.
“Hey! Are you coming or what?” Yuji called out, his voice cutting through your thoughts. He stood a few paces ahead, hands on his hips, a bright smile lighting up his face. “I thought we were going to train today!”
You couldn’t help but smile back at him, your heart swelling at the sight of his excitement. “Yeah, I’m coming!” You jogged to catch up with him, the momentary rush of adrenaline distracting you from the weight of your thoughts.
As you fell into step beside him, you felt the warmth of his presence, the way he made the air around you feel lighter. “You really are too slow sometimes, you know?” he teased, nudging you playfully. “I mean, I know I’m faster, but you’ve gotta at least try to keep up!”
“Please!” you laughed, shaking your head. “You’ve been training longer than I have. I’m just trying not to trip over my own feet!” The banter flowed easily between you, but even in this moment of lightness, you couldn’t shake the nagging sense of Sukuna’s presence lurking just beneath the surface, a shadow that never quite left you.
“Speaking of tripping, you’re not going to freak out again when I show you that new move, are you?” Yuji’s expression turned mock-serious, eyebrows raised. “Because last time, I swear I thought you were going to lose your lunch!”
“Okay, that was one time! I told you I wasn’t ready for a backflip!” you protested, recalling the embarrassment of that training session where you’d ended up flat on your back. “Besides, you can’t just expect me to be a natural like you!”
Yuji laughed, the sound bubbling up from his chest and enveloping you like a warm embrace. “Hey, you’ve got potential! I mean, you did get back up after I knocked you down. That counts for something, right?”
His encouragement filled you with a warmth that momentarily pushed aside the darkness threatening to creep in. He was everything Sukuna had hoped you would find—kind, brave, and full of life. Itadori Yuji’s laughter echoed in your mind, a stark contrast to the chilling presence of the curse that loomed behind you, hidden yet always felt, a constant reminder of the complexities entangled in your heart.
Yet, in the depths of Sukuna’s being, a flicker of something unexpected stirred—a faint, bitter jealousy. He had often wondered if he had ever truly felt envy regarding the affection you held for that brat, as he so often referred to Yuji in his darker moments. A part of him questioned whether he was conscious of the pain he had caused you, the heartache that clung to your spirit like a shadow.
“Do you even understand what you’ve done to her?” he mused silently, as if you could hear him echoing in your mind.
There was an awareness in him, a recognition that you had somehow managed to love all of him, even the twisted, cursed side of his existence. Perhaps that was what stung the most—knowing that you had opened your heart to him and, in doing so, had become entwined in a relationship that was more chaotic than he had ever intended.
But even amid that jealousy, he had no regrets about his feelings for you. His love for Hiromi—the one who had filled his heart with warmth before darkness overtook him—remained unwavering.
That love had been pure and innocent, a light that could never be dimmed by the shadows he had embraced. He could not deny it, nor would he wish to. Yet now, watching from the sidelines, he felt an ache in his chest, a realization that he could never be the one to bring you that same joy.
In the quiet corners of his mind, he harbored a secret wish—a hope that he could have made you smile like this. So vibrantly, so free of grief. A happiness so clear that one could see it gleam in your eyes, untainted by the complexities of his existence. The laughter you shared with Yuji resonated in a way that he could only dream of, a melody of innocence that felt forever out of his reach.
“What would it take?” he pondered, the thought lingering like a ghost. Would he ever be able to evoke such joy? Or was he forever condemned to dwell in the shadows of what he could never be?
Sukuna’s thoughts spiraled, twisting through memories of moments shared with you—soft smiles, fleeting touches, and the warmth of your laughter that once danced around him like sunlight. The contrast was stark; he had only ever known how to wield darkness, to embrace fear and chaos, while Yuji seemed to thrive in the light. The way you looked at Yuji, filled with admiration and affection, was a dagger in his chest, a poignant reminder of the connection he could never replicate.
Yet, in that moment of reflection, a different feeling began to take root—a deep, abiding wish for your happiness. Perhaps the greatest act of love he could offer you now was to allow you to chase that joy, even if it meant stepping aside, relinquishing his hold on your heart. You deserve every ounce of happiness, unencumbered by his darkness.
As you stood there, laughing freely, the shadows that had haunted him felt a little less suffocating. He knew he could not change who he was, nor could he rewrite the past, but perhaps he could shift his focus from his own pain to the happiness that blossomed in front of him. He wanted to see you flourish, to break free from the chains of sorrow he had inadvertently wrapped around you.
“Thanks, Yuji. I really appreciate that.” you said, your voice softer, the sincerity in your tone catching his attention. Your face flustered and shy. It was a face Sukuna had never seen from you.
“Hey, you don’t have to thank me. We’re friends, right?” His eyes sparkled with genuine warmth, but beneath that, you could feel a hint of concern lurking. “You know, if something’s bothering you, you can tell me. We’re a team.”
You paused for a moment, the gravity of his words settling over you. Sukuna knew that you wanted to share your fears—he could see it in the way your lips parted but never released a sound, in the slight tremble of your hands as they hovered between reaching out and retreating. It was written all over your face, the tension in your furrowed brow, the flicker of uncertainty in your eyes. Sukuna knew you too well, after all the years you'd lived together. He understood every unspoken word, every hesitation, even when you couldn’t bring yourself to voice your thoughts.
But this time, things were different. You didn’t remember any of it—not the life he had spoken of, not the shared moments he swore existed. The memories he claimed you both cherished were nothing but a void to you, a distant fog where nothing came into focus. Sukuna knew that too. He wasn’t oblivious to the confusion in your expression whenever he spoke of the past you shared. You couldn’t recall the way your lives had intertwined so deeply, and that lack of recollection gnawed at you just as much as it pained him.
And yet, despite your lack of memory, despite the blank slate that your mind had become, Sukuna still knew you. He could sense the turmoil bubbling within you, the words that remained trapped in your throat.
They were right there, on the tip of your tongue, waiting to be released, but fear held you back. What if speaking those fears out loud made them real? What if your confusion, your lack of memories, created a rift between you that couldn’t be mended?
Sukuna’s gaze never wavered from you. His usual harshness softened, if only slightly, as if silently urging you to speak. He understood that what you were facing was beyond your control, but he wanted you to know that he was still there, that he would wait. No matter how long it took for you to find your voice, to trust him again—even if the memories never returned—Sukuna wasn’t going anywhere.
“I… I’m fine, Yu.” you finally replied, forcing a smile. “Just a lot on my mind, you know? Training always helps clear it up.”
“Alright, but I’ll be here if you need me,” he said, his tone earnest, making your heart ache at the kindness in his eyes. “We’ll figure it out together, I promise.”
As you walked alongside him, the weight of Sukuna’s presence felt more like a lingering shadow, a reminder of your complicated reality. That was very much obvious to him. The joy you found in the brat’s company was intoxicating, but it was intertwined with the fear of what Sukuna represented—a darkness that loomed over everything you cherished.
But in that moment, as the brat’s laughter filled the air, you resolved to focus on what you could control. You would embrace the light he brought into your life, even if it meant wrestling with the shadows of the past. For now, you would fight alongside him, a sorcerer in your own right, finding strength in your love for him and the hope that one day, the shadows would fade into something less consuming.
“Okay, enough talking! Let’s go!” Yuji said, breaking you from your thoughts as he took off, racing ahead. You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound spilling out of you, bright and free, as you chased after him, if only for a moment forgetting the weight of the curse that loomed over your life.
You had become a sorcerer not merely to fight curses, but to protect what you had come to cherish. It was a decision that had grown within you over time, shaped by your encounters and the people you had come to love. You weren’t driven by blind heroism or reckless ambition. 
No, it was about preserving the bonds that had become precious to you, about standing your ground in a world where curses threatened the very fabric of those connections. But this choice—this path—you had taken wasn’t what Sukuna had ever wanted for you.
Sukuna never believed in foolish ideals like heroism or self-sacrifice. To him, they were weaknesses, things that would only lead you into harm's way. And that was what unsettled him most. He hadn’t fought for you, protected you, only to see you willingly step into danger for others. In your past life, things were different. 
He had kept you safe, shielded you from the horrors that roamed the world. Under his watch, you didn't need to lift a finger. You were his to protect, a treasure he wouldn’t allow the world to tarnish.
But now, things had changed, and not in ways he could easily control. A part of him resented the world you had been pulled into—a world filled with curses, death, and peril. He especially resented the boy. Itadori Yuji. 
Ryomen Sukuna had watched it happen—watched as Itadori had unknowingly nudged you towards the life of a sorcerer. It wasn’t malicious on Yuji’s part. The boy had only meant to encourage you, to bring out a strength he saw in you. But to Sukuna, that encouragement was nothing more than an invitation to danger. Yuji had no idea what he'd set in motion. And Sukuna couldn’t forgive him for that.
In your past life, Sukuna had made sure you were safe. There had been no need for you to risk yourself in battle or face the horrors of the world head-on. He had taken care of everything. You didn’t need to be strong; you didn’t need to fight. That was his role—to crush anyone who threatened you, to be the shield that protected you from harm. It was his way of keeping you close, of ensuring you never had to suffer.
But now, standing in this new life, all he could do was wonder—how could this brat, this boy, possibly take care of you? How could he, with his limited power and naive ideals, protect you the way Sukuna once had? It infuriated Sukuna to think that Yuji believed he could guide you in this treacherous world, when in reality, he was the one who had exposed you to its dangers in the first place.
Ryomen Sukuna clenched his fists, his thoughts simmering with frustration. You had been safe before, with him. But now, he feared that this world of curses you had chosen—this world where you now stood alongside Yuji and the others—would one day rip you away from him. And Sukuna wasn't sure he could bear that.
Sukuna felt a twisted sense of validation in the aftermath of Shibuya. It had been him—not Yuji, not any of your so-called allies—who had saved your life when everything went to hell. The moment the curses descended, the city had become a chaotic battlefield, one where even the strongest sorcerers struggled to hold their ground. But not him. Not Sukuna.
He had watched it unfold, his sharp gaze tracking the danger closing in on you, and in that split second, everything he had warned against crystallized. The fragility of your humanity, the danger you had willingly embraced—it all came to a head.
You had faced curses far beyond what you should have been dealing with. It was the recklessness, the vulnerability, the need to prove yourself as a sorcerer that had led you to the brink of death. And for what? To protect others? To fight alongside those who weren’t worthy of your devotion?
In that critical moment, when you had been on the verge of being overwhelmed, it wasn’t Yuji or any of the other sorcerers who had come to your aid. It was Sukuna. His power had surged through the chaos, his strength unmatched, obliterating the curse that had dared to lay its hand on you.
He had kept you from being crushed, from the fate that would have surely claimed you had he not intervened. The irony wasn’t lost on him—that in the midst of this world you had chosen, it was still his power that protected you, not the one you had turned to.
Sukuna could almost laugh at how right he had been. Your decision to become a sorcerer, your reliance on others to protect you—it had all crumbled in the face of reality.
In your past life, you had never needed to face this kind of danger, because he had kept you safe. It had been him who ensured your safety, him who made sure the world’s darkness never touched you. And now, in this life, despite everything that had changed, the outcome was still the same: you needed him to survive.
He hated to admit it, but a part of him reveled in the fact that you couldn’t escape his grasp. The boy, Yuji, had tried—tried to pull you into a world where you could stand on your own, where you didn’t need to rely on Ryomen Sukuna’s power.
But Shibuya had proven otherwise. The truth was undeniable: there was no escaping the fact that Sukuna was, and always would be, the one who kept you alive.
His crimson eyes lingered on you as you lay unconscious, the aftermath of the battle leaving you battered and bruised. He crouched beside you, his expression unreadable. 
There was no warmth in his gaze, no affection—only a sense of possession. A sense of knowing that you were a part of him. Whether in this life or the last, it didn’t matter. The world could change, your memories could fade, but the fact remained: Sukuna had saved you, and he always would. No one else could protect you the way he could, and in the end, he was the only one who truly understood that.
"You see now, don’t you, little one?" he murmured, his voice low, almost to himself. "No matter how far you run, no matter what life you choose, you’ll always come back to this. To me."
There was a finality in his words, a certainty that rang through the empty streets of Shibuya. In his eyes, this moment only reinforced the bond between you, one forged not out of love, but out of necessity, out of survival. And though you may never remember the life you once shared, Sukuna knew that as long as you walked this path, you would always need him.
And then, in the stillness after the battle, Sukuna froze.
A pulse of cursed energy rippled through the air, faint but unmistakable. It was old, ancient even, yet familiar in a way that twisted something deep inside him. For the first time in a thousand years, Sukuna felt her presence. Hiromi.
Sukuna's mind recoiled from the realization, the pulse of cursed energy stirring something long-buried within him. The sensation clawed at him—ancient, familiar, undeniable.
Hiromi.
His heart, or what remained of it, twisted with an emotion he hadn't felt in centuries. He had thought it impossible.
But there it was, a presence like a faint echo that had finally resurfaced after a thousand years. His eyes narrowed, scanning the distance as if he could pinpoint the exact location of the cursed energy.
Without hesitation, his body moved on instinct, the need to chase after that familiar presence overwhelming him. He didn’t even spare a glance back at you. The urgency consumed him. You’ll be fine, he thought to himself. You were unconscious, battered but alive—safe, for now.
“Uraume.” His voice was cold and commanding, cutting through the still air. Almost immediately, Uraume appeared at his side, their faces calm and collected, as if they anticipated his order even before he had spoken it.
“Sukuna-sama.” Uraume bowed slightly, eyes flicking toward your limp form lying on the ground.
“Take care of them for me.” Sukuna instructed, his tone flat, devoid of emotion. It was an order, not a request. His eyes were already fixed on the horizon, his mind far from the present moment.
Uraume nodded without question. “Understood.”
With that, Sukuna turned his back on you, his form disappearing into the distance with terrifying speed. You were unconscious, vulnerable, but he left you without hesitation. Because even now, after everything, it wasn’t you that occupied his thoughts. Not fully. Not entirely.
As the wind whipped past him, his mind raced, trying to process the flood of emotions that came with sensing Hiromi’s energy after so long. It felt like an eternity since he had last known that presence—familiar yet distant, like a memory from another life. He clenched his fists, the anticipation mounting as he closed in on the source of the cursed energy.
But beneath the rush of adrenaline, Sukuna felt something else, something darker—guilt. It was fleeting, barely noticeable, but it was there, nagging at the edges of his mind. He knew he was a hypocrite.
He had kept you by his side, held you close, and claimed you as part of his world. You had become entangled in his existence, and yet, despite everything, despite the way he protected you, he could never love you. Not in the way you might have wanted. Not in the way that mattered.
Because love had always been reserved for someone else.
Hiromi.
The name echoed in his mind, sharp and clear. Hiromi had been everything to him in a way that transcended time. Even after a thousand years, Sukuna could feel it—that deep, consuming affection that had once tied him to Hiromi like a chain. He didn’t need to question it, didn’t need to doubt. Hiromi was the one he loved, the one he would always love. That had never changed.
And yet, as he chased after the familiar energy, a dark, bitter thought rose in his mind. He had kept you close for so long, but not out of love. It had been care, yes, concern even—but not love. You were valuable to him, a piece of his life that he refused to let the world destroy. But love? No, that was something you would never receive from him. That part of his heart had been taken long ago.
He didn’t regret it. Not for a second.
As he raced toward the source of Hiromi’s energy, Sukuna's lips curled into a slight, dangerous smile.
“Hiromi…” he whispered under his breath, a mixture of longing and hunger in his voice. “After all these years, you still haunt me.”
The urgency in his steps betrayed his growing anticipation, but beneath that, another feeling simmered. A strange unease. Sukuna knew what this meant—what it would mean for him, for you, for everything. He was a hypocrite, and he knew it all too well. 
He had spent lifetimes keeping you close, ensuring your safety, binding you to him with his strength. He claimed you as his, possessed you in a way that transcended time and memory. He protected you, watched over you, but love? No, love had never been part of the equation.
Sukuna was no fool. He cared for you, yes. There was a connection, a bond that had grown stronger over time. But it wasn’t love, not in the way most would understand. He knew that. It had always been about control, about ensuring that you remained part of his world, tethered to him by the invisible threads of fate. 
You had chosen a path filled with danger, and he had allowed it, begrudgingly, because he didn’t want to lose you. But he did not love you. Not in the way that mattered. Not in the way that consumed him.
That kind of love was reserved for someone else. Hiromi.
The name reverberated in his mind like an old song, the memory of a time long past. Hiromi had been the one he loved, truly loved. The one who had held his heart, back when he had one. The connection between them was something deeper, something far more potent than what he had with you. It was raw and ancient, a passion that transcended lifetimes. 
Ryomen Hiromi had been his equal, the one who had understood him in ways no one else ever could. And now, after centuries, Hiromi’s cursed energy was stirring again, calling out to him across time.
Sukuna felt the sharp contrast between what he had with you and what he had once shared with Hiromi. You were his, yes—but in a way that was almost pragmatic, transactional. He cared for you, protected you because you were his responsibility, someone he would never let the world destroy. But it wasn’t the kind of love that set his soul ablaze. Not like Hiromi had.
And that truth didn’t bother him. He didn’t regret it. He didn’t regret holding you close while reserving his deepest, truest love for Hiromi. That was how it was meant to be. You and Hiromi occupied different places in his life, and that was something he had long accepted.
As he sped through the streets of Shibuya, his mind was a storm of thoughts. He knew he was leaving you behind, abandoning you without a second thought to chase the echo of someone he had lost long ago. And yet, he couldn’t stop himself. The pull was too strong, the memory of Hiromi too powerful to resist. You were safe. That’s all that mattered.
But Hiromi… Hiromi was everything.
Sukuna knew, with absolute certainty, that no matter what he had with you, it would never compare to what he had with Hiromi. And he didn’t need it to. He didn’t want it to. He had spent a thousand years in the shadow of that love, and now, with Hiromi’s cursed energy suddenly awakening, all he could think about was reclaiming what had been his—what had always been his.
As Sukuna moved through the city, his chest tightened with anticipation. He was a hypocrite, yes, but he had no regrets. He would protect you, care for you, but the fire that burned within him was for Hiromi alone. You were never meant to hold his heart—not the way Hiromi did. And for that, Sukuna was unapologetic.
This was who he was. This was who he had always been.
Meanwhile, Uraume knelt beside your unconscious form, their expression unreadable as they gently lifted you into their arms. They glanced in the direction Sukuna had disappeared, their lips tightening slightly.
"Always leaving." Uraume muttered quietly, more to themselves than to you. They knew better than anyone what Sukuna was chasing, and why he hadn’t hesitated to leave. "It’s never enough, is it?"
They looked down at you, a strange softness entering their gaze.
"You’re fortunate he cares for you as much as he does." Uraume added quietly, though the words felt hollow. Because they knew, just as you might someday come to realize—Sukuna’s heart belonged to someone else, someone from long ago.
And no one would ever replace that.
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HE HAD NOT REMEMBERED WHAT HE THOUGHT THE FIRST TIME HE DIED. But this time around, he did. As Ryomen Sukuna lay on the ground, his once-imposing form crumbling, the weight of his own mortality pressing down on him for the first time in centuries, he felt something stir in the space around him. A soft, familiar presence, like a breeze carrying the scent of a life long forgotten. It was not a presence he had ever felt in a long time. 
He opened his eyes, and there you were. Your past self, standing before him as though summoned by the final moments of his life. You were just as he remembered, yet different—there was a lightness in your eyes, a peace he hadn’t seen in so long. And as you approached, there was no anger, no bitterness, no pain. You smiled at him. A gentle, almost wistful smile, as though all the years of cruelty, all the darkness that had passed between you, had never existed.
“Sukuna–sama.” you greeted softly, your voice carrying an odd tenderness, as though you were greeting an old friend.
He stared at you, confused, his chest tight with an unfamiliar emotion. The weight of his sins, the centuries of violence, grief, pain and manipulation—all of it should have driven you away. And yet here you were, standing before him, smiling as if nothing had ever been wrong. As if he had never hurt you. As if you hadn’t hated him for it.
“You’re really here….little one.” Sukuna rasped, his voice rough, but there was a vulnerability in it he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a thousand years. “After everything...you’re still here?”
You nodded, kneeling down beside him, your gaze soft but resolute. “I’m here, Sukuna–sama. But we both know this is the end, don’t we?”
He grunted, dark scarlet eyes flickering with both amusement and bitterness. “So it seems.” He paused, the weight of what was to come settling in. “And now what? What happens next? You’ve come to watch me die, little one?
You shook your head gently, your expression unchanged. “No. I came to say goodbye.”
A silence stretched between you both, heavy and profound. Ryomen Sukuna’s breath grew more labored, the energy draining from him faster now. His dark eyes never left yours, trying to read you, to understand what this moment meant. You were supposed to go wherever he was, you would follow. Words were wind and yet, your actions — they said other things. 
“Goodbye, huh?” he muttered, his lips curling into a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “And what am I supposed to do with that? After everything…after all these years, little one?”
You hesitated, looking down at your hands before meeting his gaze once more. “I need you to let me go, Sukuna–sama.”
Sukuna’s eyes darkened. “Let you go? I’ve kept you for a reason, little one. You’ve been mine for longer than either of us can remember.”
You exhaled softly, shaking your head. “Not anymore. Not this time.I can’t love you like this, Sukuna–sama. Not like I did before. That love—it’s gone.”
His jaw tightened, a spark of anger flashing in his eyes. “And why is that? Because of him? Because of that brat?”
He didn’t need to say the name. You both knew who he meant.
You didn’t flinch. “Yes. I love Yuji now. I had…I had been reborn now, Sukuna–sama. He’s who I’ve chosen. He’s who I am in this life. And I want to be happy, Sukuna–sama. Truly happy.”
Sukuna scoffed, his lips curling into a bitter smile. “Happy, huh? That’s what you want?”
You nodded, your voice soft but firm. “You always said you wanted that for me, didn’t you? You kept me close because you said you wanted me safe. But I don’t want to live like this anymore. I don’t want to be bound to something that doesn’t exist—something that’s only pain and emptiness.”
Sukuna was silent for a long moment, his breath shallow, his eyes narrowing as he stared up at the sky. “So that’s it then? After everything, you’re just going to walk away?” His voice was laced with bitterness, but beneath it, there was something else—a resignation, an understanding that this was inevitable.
You reached out, gently taking his hand. The gesture surprised him, and for the first time in a long time, Sukuna didn’t pull away.
“I want to let you go, Sukuna–sama.” you said softly. “But I need you to let me go too. So we can both be free.”
His eyes flickered with something unspoken, a quiet turmoil that even he didn’t fully understand. For so long, he had kept you tethered to him, not out of love but possession, out of the need to control, to keep you as part of his world. And now, here you were, asking him to release you from the very chains he had forged. Asking to be separated from you, forever.
“You think it’s that easy?” Sukuna whispered, his voice hoarse. “After everything we’ve been through, after all the years…”
“No, no.” you replied gently, a small ghostly smile on your face. “It's not easy. I know that much. But it’s what needs to happen. We’ve both held on for too long. You and I—we’re not meant to be like this anymore.”
Ryomen Sukuna’s eyes searched yours, and for a moment, he saw something he had long since forgotten. The softness, the kindness in your gaze—the person you had once been before all of this. And he knew, deep down, that you were right.
He had kept you close out of fear. Fear of losing the one thing in his life that had ever mattered, the one of the very few people who had ever made him feel something beyond the void of his existence. But you were no longer his, and he was no longer yours. It was never meant to be. He knew that from the beginning.
With a deep, labored breath, Sukuna closed his eyes, his grip on your hand loosening. “Fine, little one.” he rasped. “Go. Be with him. Be happy. It’s what you want, right?”
A tear slipped down your cheek as you smiled at him, the sadness in your eyes mixed with a profound sense of peace. “Thank you, Sukuna–sama.”
For a moment, you both sat in silence, the weight of all those years of history between you. And then, quietly, you leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. He lets the warmth echo through his flesh. He didn’t want you to let go, he didn’t want you to leave him. And yet, he had to let you go. 
“Goodbye, Sukuna–sama.” you whispered. “Be free. Choose your path too.”
With that, you stood up, turning away from the man who had once held your heart, leaving him to the twilight of his life. You didn’t look back as you walked away, knowing that this was the end of one chapter, and the beginning of another. You will never find each other again.
Ryomen Sukuna watched you go, his vision fading, a strange mix of regret and relief flooding through him. He had let you go, and in doing so, perhaps, for the first time in his long, twisted life, he had let himself go too.
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IT WAS ODD, THIS PLACE. And it was where all souls go. At least that’s what his father used to say to him. Sukuna had not believed it then. But here is the proof. Here is the truth. The path of souls stretched endlessly before him, an ethereal twilight where time held no meaning and silence enveloped the realm. 
Ryomen Sukuna’s hand held firmly to Uraume’s own, though Uraume’s presence beside him was faint, as if they too were fading into the beyond. Uraume, after all, was too young to understand it all yet.
And he didn’t want to distress them. His crimson eyes scanned the surreal landscape, not for the first time wondering what came next. Death had always been an abstract concept for someone like him—feared by others, but never himself. Yet here he was, on this path, somewhere between existence and oblivion.
He felt a pull, a presence just ahead, and as they walked, familiar figures began to emerge in the mist. Among them, Mahito lounges carelessly, his usual playful smile twisted with curiosity as he looks over at Sukuna.
“Well, well,” Mahito said with a chuckle, “It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Sukuna?”
Sukuna glanced at Mahito, but his eyes were drawn past him, pulled to a figure he hadn’t expected to see again in this realm. Hiromi.
Hiromi stood a few paces away, her form illuminated by the soft glow of the path. Her presence was calm, unwavering, as though the centuries of separation between them had not dulled the bond that once existed. She smiled at him—a small, knowing smile, one that held both understanding and a quiet challenge.
"It’s been a long time." you said, your voice cutting through the haze of memories that clouded his mind. You had appeared beside Mahito, your eyes softer now than when you last spoke to Sukuna.
It had been a lifetime ago—literally. But here, in the land between worlds, there was no more need for pretense. It had been so long since you both had been truly honest with one another.
Sukuna’s expression softened slightly, though his sharp edges remained. He wasn’t one for sentimentality, and yet, standing here, he felt something stir within him. He inclined his head to you, acknowledging your presence, but his gaze drifted back to Hiromi.
“Hiromi.” he said with a quiet intensity, his voice lower than usual, almost…reverent. Uraume, sensing the moment, quietly stepped back, releasing his hand.
Hiromi stepped forward, her dark eyes locked onto Sukuna’s. She looked just as she had the last time he had seen her, centuries ago. The weight of their shared past hung in the air between them, unspoken but ever-present.
“It’s been too long….Sukuna.” Hiromi said softly, her voice carrying a quiet warmth. She looked at him with that same measured calm, though there was something in her eyes, something that had been left unsaid for far too long.
Sukuna remained silent for a moment, taking in the sight of her. He had never been a man to reflect on his emotions, to consider the consequences of his actions beyond immediate gratification or power. But here, now, on the path of souls, stripped of the pretenses of life, there was a clarity he couldn’t ignore.
“What path will you walk, Sukuna?” Hiromi asked, her voice steady but soft, as though she already knew the answer.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Sukuna smiled—a small, almost imperceptible curve of his lips. It wasn’t the predatory grin he was known for, but something quieter, something…honest.
“A path with you.” he answered, his voice carrying the weight of every century that had passed. There was no hesitation in his words, no mask to hide behind. Here, in this liminal space, he could admit what had always been true. “Even if there will be nothing between us.”
Hiromi’s smile deepened, though her eyes were tinged with something bittersweet. “Even if there’s nothing?”
Sukuna held her gaze, his expression uncharacteristically vulnerable. “I was bound to you the moment I met you. You know that too well, don’t you?”
His words were simple, but they carried the weight of a lifetime—perhaps several lifetimes—of unspoken truths. He had never been one to voice such sentiments, not in life, not when there was always another battle, another conquest, another way to assert his dominance over the world. But here, stripped of all that power, all that ambition, there was only the truth.
Hiromi’s eyes softened, and she reached out, her hand brushing lightly against his. The touch was fleeting, but it was enough. She didn’t need to say anything; the silence between them spoke volumes.
Mahito chuckled softly behind them, amused by the display but wise enough not to interrupt. “So, Sukuna…..” he teased back. “Even a human curse has your attachments, huh?”
Sukuna shot him a glare, but there was no real malice in it. “And what of it?” he muttered, though his usual venom was absent.
Hiromi gave a small laugh, shaking her head at Mahito before returning her attention to Sukuna. “It’s not attachments that hold you down.” she said softly, her eyes reflecting the soft glow of the path around them. “It’s what you choose to carry.”
“And what are you carrying?” Sukuna asked, his voice quieter now, the question more personal than he’d intended.
Hiromi’s eyes held his, the connection between them clear and unbreakable, even in this world of shadows and souls. “Only what I choose. And now, I choose peace.”
She let her hand fall from his, the warmth of the touch lingering between them. The path stretched out before them, infinite and unknown, but somehow, less daunting with her beside him. It was just like back then. When they were together. Happy. At peace.
Sukuna nodded, a rare understanding passing between them. He had been many things in his life—cruel, selfish, a god of calamity—but here, now, there was only one thing that mattered.
“I’ll walk with you then.” he said, his voice firm. He looks at Uraume. “Both of us will.”
Hiromi smiled, the kind of smile that held centuries of history, of pain, of love, and of letting go. “Then let’s walk together.” she said simply.
And for the first time in a thousand years, Ryomen Sukuna felt something other than hunger, other than rage. He felt…whole.
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epilogue 
You and Yuji were crouched behind a row of bushes, peeking over the top like kids playing hide and seek. Except, instead of hiding from a grumpy neighbor, you were hiding from a low-grade curse that looked like a giant, angry turnip.
"Okay, so what’s the plan?" Yuji whispered, his face way too serious for someone talking about vegetable-based curses.
"I was thinking... you distract it, and I’ll sneak around and exorcise it fully." you replied, glancing at the turnip monster, which seemed to be getting more agitated by the second.
"Alright, alright. I got it." Yuji said with a determined nod. Then, after a beat of silence, he looked back at you, his usual playful grin sneaking onto his face. "You know, we make a pretty good team….They were right to assign us together for missions, hm?”
You chuckled softly, feeling your heart skip a beat despite the fact that this was the least romantic setting possible. "We do, don't we? Not many people can take on turnip monsters with such finesse."
Yuji grinned, then cleared his throat awkwardly. "Hey, uh, while we’re on the topic of being a good team, there's... there's something I’ve been wanting to say."
Your eyes widened a little, curiosity and nervousness stirring in your chest. "What is it?"
"Well, it's just... I like being around you. Genuinely…..It’s….I just….I like…I like spending time with you." Yuji said, rubbing the back of his neck, his cheeks turning a little pink. "Like, a lot. More than just the 'let's-fight-curses-together' way."
Your heart started racing, and you could feel your face getting warm. "I... I feel the same way." you admitted, trying to keep your voice steady even though your insides were doing cartwheels. "I’ve liked you for a while, actually."
Yuji blinked in surprise, then broke into the brightest, most ridiculous smile you’d ever seen. "Wait, really? Do you like me? Like, like me?"
You nodded, biting back a grin. "Yeah, I like you. A lot."
For a moment, the two of you just stared at each other, grinning like idiots, the turnip curse temporarily forgotten. Laughter echoes from Yuji and then you, and all at once, there was some harmony. The peace that you both had been craving to have. The joy that comes with being together.
"Man, I should’ve told you sooner!" Yuji said, looking like he was about to burst with happiness. "We could’ve been doing all this curse-fighting and dating at the same time!"
You laughed, your nerves fading as the warmth of the moment settled over you. "Better late than never, right?"
Yuji nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! And now that we’ve got that out of the way, I say we finish off this turnip monster and then—"
Suddenly, the turnip curse let out a loud, disgruntled roar, reminding you both that, yes, you were still on a mission.
"Right, curse first, dating later," Yuji said quickly, scrambling to his feet. "Let’s do this!"
In a blur of movement, Yuji launched himself at the turnip, giving you the perfect opening to come around the side. With a swift, precise strike, you exorcised the curse, watching it dissolve into nothing.
Yuji jogged back over to you, grinning. "See? Told you we’re a good team."
You smiled back, feeling a rush of affection for him. "Yeah, we are. And from now on, we’ll be a good team together—on missions and in life."
Yuji’s smile softened, his brown eyes locking with yours in a way that made your heart flutter. "I like the sound of that," he said, his voice a little quieter but full of warmth.
You reached out, taking his hand in yours. "Come what may, right?"
"Right." Yuji agreed, squeezing your hand gently. "No matter what happens, I want to be by your side. Happy. Together."
And with that, the two of you stood there, hand in hand, as the remnants of the curse faded into the wind, feeling lighter than ever—ready to face whatever came next, as long as it was together.
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uyuforu · 4 months ago
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Uranus in Solar Return Charts
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Can we please stop associating Uranus with break ups or sudden horrible news in SRC????? Like this planet represents sudden change and unexpected news, yet it doesn't necessarily means it's bad, hold your horses. I'm so pissed at seeing only bad and negative observations about Uranus in Solar Returns, I decided to explain how Uranus actually play in your life yearly with my own SRC.
Anytime I had Uranus somewhere in my SRC, it mostly represented something that changed very suddenly.
Uranus 9H= I was going on trips very suddenly, unexpectedly but had good memories. Ruler of the 9H was Aries (fast trips/ week ends) and it was in 12H (trips). Ruler also conjuncted Juno and I was mostly doing these trips with my ex.
Uranus 6H= "funny" thing is that I had this placement during COVID time, and I was still at college, so my routine was def changed suddenly when we had to learn from home 100%.
Uranus 11H= This placement was in the same house as Chiron, and I suffered from losing friends this year. It was my first year of college and I didn't have many friends. Yet, sudden change since I met my best friend this year too! Moreover, 9H Ruler was Uranus and I was entering College, which created a huge change in my relationships since I met a lot of my current friends there. I also had a specific internet friend who helped me a lot that year.
Uranus 3H= This was tricky to understand at first, yet I remember this year I moved to country side of my country and was cut from seeing my friends, etc. So I was very much online in general and I was trying to meet more friends online. I indeed met my FS online this year (3H ruler in 7H) and it was very sudden!
Uranus 12H= This one was def harsh for me. I was moving abroad, living in a completely different culture than mine and honestly, I felt very lonely there. It was a true experience to have yet I was crying often. Yet, I also learned how to be more independent and enjoyed this alone time I had, to have more freedom and I appreciated to be by myself.
Uranus 10H= This is the placement I had this year lol. People said it means being fired from your job (why so negative) but that didn't happen lmao. My Natal 10H stellium would never. Though! This placement was exactly what it meant: me leaving "normal jobs", to get into a less conventional one. I was entering a liberal job, and something being online. This idea also came in a very unexpected way.
Uranus 7H= This is the placement I have for my next SRC, which is very soon! Many people associate this with breakup and tbh why not, Uranus meaning big big changes and sudden ones can actually transform this way. Yet, I am not in a relationship. And Rulers are def something to look at. I def think it means more sudden things happening in your relationships, and unexpected change. Things can change very fast or happen very fast. Ruler of the 7H is in 10H, and being Venus, I don't think it means a break up. Rather, 7H ruler in 10H can be an official and serious relationship. So this can translate either meeting someone and being in a relationship with them quite suddenly or being in a relationship with someone quite unexpectedly.
Anyway, hope it helped and please check more than just a planet in your houses!!
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JULY BOOKING OPEN
email adress: [email protected]
Soft To You presentation and Q&A ᡣ𐭩 rules ᡣ𐭩 private readings reviews
astrology menu ᡣ𐭩 tarot menu ᡣ𐭩 special astrology & tarot readings
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harryspet · 11 months ago
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bambi eyes (5) r. cameron
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[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, obx special guest appearances, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
A/N: Will tag people later, for now I must sleep :) Enjoy!
word count: 3.9k
In which Rafe loosens his leash, but actions come with consequences.
Rafe told you to get dressed and to wait at the front of the house. Truthfully, you liked it better when Rafe picked out your outfits. That way, you knew exactly what looked good on you and that you wouldn’t make some kind of fashion faux pas. You decided on a pink fitted top, a matching skirt, and an adorable pair of brown boots Rafe bought you for Christmas. You completed your look with a bow at the top of your hair and an array of colorful bracelets you put on each arm. 
You spent a while watching men in dark clothes walk the perimeter of the yard and through the forest on the sides of the property. At first, you were quite scared to see them, but Rafe explained that they worked for him. This led you to ask even more questions. Weren’t they cold out there? We should offer them some snacks? Could I make them cookies? Rafe shut down your curiosity quickly, emphasizing that you were not to say a word to any of them. 
When the door to the enclosed porch opened, you expected to see Rafe. You closed your drawing book and turned your head to greet him. Instead, Rafe’s friend Barry greeted you. You’d heard them going back and forth all morning, usually, their conversations were tense, but you assumed they must’ve come to some type of agreement. At the sight of you, he smiled, flashing his gold tooth. 
“Country Club’s little princess,” He sang, “How are you, baby?”
You smiled nervously, still not super used to being around others. It had been a few months now since Rafe brought you to Tannyhill and almost all of your social interaction had been with Rafe and Lana. 
“I’m good, I . . . how are you?”
He walked in front of you, his hands behind his back as he looked you over, “Oh I’m just peachy. Whatchu got there?” 
You glanced back towards the door, wondering if Rafe was far behind him. Looking back down at your lap, you said, “I was just drawing a little bit. Rafe told me to wait here–”
“Drawing, huh? You an artist?” Your eyes tilted back up to him. 
“Not an artist,” You said quickly, “I just like to . . .”
“What kind of stuff do you draw?” He asked, and you sensed sincerity in his tone, “You know, I used to draw a lot when I was in school. Nothing serious, but I couldn’t help it; my mind would just wander, and then my paper would have a bunch of doodles on it.”
He kneeled down in front of you, and you hesitated for a moment before you opened the book. You showed him your page of doodles. You drew a lot of what you saw, including doodles of Rafe, and things you saw around Tannyhill, “That’s Lana, ain’t it?” You nodded, “Impressive. Most people ain’t good at drawing faces. Not you though.”
“Thank you,” You said, “You don’t draw anymore?”
He shook his head, “Not very often. I should.”
You agreed, “You should. Sometimes, Rafe will draw with me. Well, mainly we’ll color together. He likes it when there’s already a picture, so he doesn’t have to come up with it himself.”
“He’s pretty bad at it, anyways, ain’t he?” Unexpectedly, a giggle left your lips, and you raised your book to cover the bottom of your face. 
“I should go look for him–” You made a move to escape, but Barry placed both his hands on the arms of your chair, effectively trapping you. 
Barry hadn’t touched you, but you felt you might get in trouble just for laughing at his joke, “You don’t like my company or something?” You shook your head immediately. 
“Sorry, that’s not what I meant . . .” 
“You’re sweet; I can see why he likes you,” Barry held his eyes on you and you felt the skin on your face heat up with embarrassment, “You know, you ever get tired of him, or he pisses you off – which he will, then you can call me. We can run away together.”
Your eyebrows furrowed, “I don’t have a phone.”
Barry smirked at that, “Ask anyone on this island who Barry is, and they’ll point you in the right direction.”
Running away with Barry was the last thing you wanted to do. Rafe had his bad days but you hadn’t considered trying to leave. Barry also barely knew you but you decided to think positively. Afterall, Rafe trusted Barry. You assumed his intentions must be good, “Okay,” You agreed, “When you come back next, maybe you can show me some of your drawings.”
“You want to see them. Really?”
“Yes,” You said, “It’s only fair.”
Barry nodded, “You make a good point. I gotta come back soon and try more of your desserts. That cake you made … I ain’t tasted nothing better.”
“You have to,” You rushed out excitedly, “Rafe and Lana say everything I make is great, I can’t tell if they’re honest.”
“I’m as honest as they come, sweetheart,” You grinned at that, “A good friend is honest.”
“You want to be my friend?”
“I mean, only if you want me to.”
“I do.”
“Don’t tell Rafe though–”
Your conversation was interrupted when the poor door opened, and Rafe appeared, “Don’t tell Rafe what?” His gaze was sharp, and luckily, it was mostly directed at Barry. You watched as Barry stood and stepped back from you. 
“Nothing man, we were just talking about about Kildare. You’re going to let me help show her around, right?”
Rafe’s brooding look turned to amusement, “She’s not gonna step foot on your side of the island. Thanks for the offer though.” 
There was an awkward silence, and you felt some tension building until Barry finally said, “Alright, I’ll see you soon, Bambi,” You waved as he turned on his heel, “Rafe.”
Rafe watched as Barry walked out the front door before he held out his hand, summoning you. You hurried from your chair, moving in closer before you grabbed ahold of his hand. It was his cue to you that he would be leading you somewhere, and you were expected to follow. 
“He touch you?” Rafe asked, leading you out the same door. You watched as Barry pulled around the horseshoe driveway in his sports car. He walked you to his large truck, opening the passenger door, “Bambi.”
“Uh …no,” You stared. 
Suddenly, you were the furthest from Tannyhill’s front door than you’d ever been. 
“Good, get in, Bambi.”
“I’m leaving . . . you’re leaving with me in the car? Your car? Right now? Today?” 
“Yeah,” He said, unsure of himself, “Get in; I’m already starting to change my mind.”
You jumped in excitement, “Really? Where are we going?” Rafe helped you as you started to climb in. He leaned over you, fastening your seatbelt for you, “You aren’t taking me back, right?”
“No, sweet girl,” Rafe assured you, “As far as where we’re going, it’s a surprise.” 
You couldn’t contain your excitement as you settled into your seat. As you pulled past the gates at the end of the long driveway and onto the road, you couldn’t help but feel like all your faith in Rafe had paid off. 
“Who’s that, Daddy?” You asked, noticing a black car that had also pulled out of Tannyhill and was following closely behind. 
“No one, Bambi,” He brushed your question off, “So, uh, what were you two talking about? You and Barry?”
Your eyes were focused on the huge trees that hung over the road, beautifully dripping green moss from it’s branches. Between the trees, you saw huge mansions with big gates and long drives just like Tannyhill. 
“Drawing,” You said briefly, “He said he would show me some of his work.”
“He’s full of shit.”
You turned to Rafe who was gripping the wheel with one hand, “Daddy … I don’t like it when you curse.”
“Bambi, I–” He held his tongue, sighing before he reached over to place his other hand on your thigh, “I’m sorry, sometimes work makes me lose focus. What I mean is that Barry is my friend but … he likes to mess with me, you know? So he might say something to you knowing that it would bother me.”
“He seemed like he meant it,” You said, “Would it bother you if we were friends?”
“Guys and girls can’t really be friends,” Rafe explained, “Especially not with little girls like you, okay?”
“But why–”
“Because I’m telling you right now. I appreciate that you are kind to Barry but he wouldn’t be a good friend to you. If I’m going to protect you, and as your Daddy, I should have a say in who your friends are.”
You opened your mouth to argue but quickly shut it. It didn’t make much sense to you why men and women couldn’t be friends. Why would Barry offer to be your friend if it wasn’t appropriate? You supposed that you never had any male friends before, and most men you’d been around wanted a similar thing from you, “Maybe you’re right, Daddy.”
You drove over bridges with water on both sides of the road and through more neighborhoods with huge houses. Fifteen minutes into your drive, you arrived at an area with a grocery store and lots of stores that you assumed were also for shopping. 
Rafe pulled his truck in front of one of the storefronts. You unbuckled your seatbelt, sitting up further in your seat so you could read the sign, “Fig . . uuure eight …ball …it.”
“Ballet,” Rafe corrected you, “Figure eight Ballet Company.”
Confusion spread over your features, “I looked into it; they have adult classes for beginners. I thought it might be something fun for you to do once a week.”
“Me?” You pointed to your chest, “Dance classes?”
“If you don’t want to, that’s okay,” Rafe rushed out, “It’s good exercise, and you can also do it at home. And it’s a chance to meet friends, friends that are girls, preferably.” 
“Oh,” When you looked at Rafe, it seemed like he was desperately trying to read your expression, “I’d be so nervous. And I wouldn’t be good at it.”
“I think people just do it for fun and to learn something new. And I wouldn’t just leave; I would walk you in and pick you up. Not today; I just wanted to take you by and see what you thought.”
“... It could be really fun …”
“And you’d make quite the adorable ballerina.”
“Maybe I could try one class . . . and if I liked it, you would take me every week?”
“Every week, as long as you continue to be a good girl,” Your nervousness started to melt away into excitement the longer you thought about it, “And while we’re out, I thought we could do some shopping. My research has informed me you’re going to need shoes, tights, a leotard, and a skirt.”
You practically leaped over the center console to hug him, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Daddy!”
Rafe pulled you in close, “Anything for you, sweet girl.”
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Rafe didn’t need to get his hands dirty anymore; he could hire people to protect him or kill for him. As he settled into his new life with you, he started to miss some of the adventures he experienced in his early 20s and late teens. There were no more brawls or treasures to steal. He hadn’t realized he needed an outlet for the negative energy that seemed to boil up inside of him sometimes. Now, what he knew is that he needed to keep that side of him as far away from you as possible. 
Killing JJ would’ve satisfied that part of him that has been begging to come out of him for years. He would’ve felt a rush like no other, power and control that he hadn’t felt in so long. He hadn’t brought himself to do it yet, teetering on that line between sanity and insanity. The Pogue was always a good competitor, and Rafe wasn’t surprised that he was still fighting. Rafe liked that about JJ. 
Still, Rafe wanted to see him break, and he was patient enough to wait for it. 
“What would you do to see her again?” Rafe asked as he kneeled over JJ’s bruised and battered body. 
The pogue coughed, and blood-spattered on the boat cabin’s floor. 
The silent treatment followed, but Rafe was used to talking to himself, “I know she’s not over you, but how long do you think she’ll wait before she moves on? Six months? A year? I mean, she’s a wild one; I’m sure she won’t want to stick around this place for much longer.”
“Fuck you, Rafe,” JJ’s favorite words. 
“Maybe you just don’t love her like I thought you did,” Rafe taunted, “I mean if you did, you’d be groveling at my feet, right?”
JJ’s eyes pinched tight as Rafe’s words sounded like nails on a chalkboard. 
The silent treatment followed again, and Rafe considered what his next steps might be. Removing limbs? That could be fun for a while, but if he hadn’t surrendered at this point, what would make him crack? 
“Fine,” Rafe looked down at his bloody knuckles, “I won’t bother you anymore today, but I do have something I want you to contemplate in your hours of silence. Consider the idea that I let you go, and you see Kie again instead of bleeding out here and your body being chopped into pieces. I want you to think, and I mean really think, about what you might do to make that happen. And don’t think of it as sacrificing your morals or making a deal with the devil … think of it as securing your future, okay?”
Rafe tapped his hand against JJ’s sore cheek before he stood and left. He heard no quippy comeback from the Pogue. At least Rafe had successfully beat that out of him. 
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Rafe’s eyes snapped open and was awakened from his sleep when he felt a soft finger poking at his cheek, “Wha…” Groggily, he reached to turn on his bedside lamp and found you, dressed in a onesie that made you look like a brown bear,  standing beside his bed, a sniffling mess, “Hey, w-what’s wrong?”
Immediately, Rafe reached out to grab you, and you proceeded to climb onto his large bed, “I-I had a scary dream,” You hiccuped, “Y-You sent me away a-and I was alone again and Master he was so mad at me b-because I-I didn’t make you h-happy–”
Rafe shushed you, pulling you into him, “It wasn’t real, okay? Look, you’re here with me right now.” 
“It felt real,” You whimpered, and Rafe’s lips pulled into a thin line of frustration. He wanted you happy, and he wanted to give you much more than you ever had, and it pained him that you thought he might hurt you in that way. 
“I . . . I wouldn’t ever do that, Bambi,” He brushed tears from your cheeks and caressed your face, “I’d fu- … I’d rather die than let you go. And I’d kill anyone that tried to take you from me. Anyone, okay?”
“You’ve hurt people before,” It wasn’t a question; Rafe could see it was an observation she’d made. 
“Yes,” He admitted, “But I haven’t hurt you, have I?”
“You saved me.”
Rafe nodded, “That’s right, sweet girl. I saved you. I’ve hurt people, yes,  but I-I’m not a cruel person. I wouldn’t do something like that. And you make me so happy.”
Rafe watched as you blinked away your tears and tried to stop yourself from frowning, “What if I don’t always make you happy?”
“You make me happy by breathing,” Rafe tried to assure you, “You’re smart and beautiful, and you deserve nice things. I never had anyone in my life that made me feel like I deserved anything. I never even felt like I deserved to be loved. I don’t want you to ever feel like that.”
“I love you, Rafe,” You were trying to reassure him now, and Rafe was grateful. He loved those words on your lips, and he felt in his heart that you meant them, “And . . . I like being loved by you. So much.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes,” Rafe felt you press your forehead against his before you pressed your lips softly against his, “Thank you . . . for everything. Uhm, did I scare you?”
“No, no,” Rafe’s mind was mostly on the thought of your lips, “I like being woken up by cute bears.”
Rafe pulled you in again for a kiss. Softly, your lips moved together, and Rafe explored your mouth with his tongue, slowly deepening the kiss. Rafe was already growing hard, and he cursed in his mind, frustrated by how easily you got him going. 
“You still sore from earlier?” He asked. 
“A little bit,” You spoke shyly, “You were kinda rough…”
Rafe thought back to you, bent over the arm of the couch, taking you deep, but that just made his cock ache even more. 
“But I’ve trained that little hole well, haven’t I?” Rafe asked, pressing the length protruding from his boxers, against your stomach, “You can take more, okay?”
You nodded, although Rafe’s question was rhetorical. Rafe didn’t like you sad, but he certainly like seeing your teary face. Your pajamas were the cherry on top, including the convenient little flap on the back that allowed for easy access, “Turn around on your side, little girl,” Rafe commanded gruffly, “This will help you sleep.”
“Daddy…” You whined as you did exactly as Rafe ordered. 
“Right here, not going anywhere,” Rafe pushed his crotch into your ass, bringing his lips close to your ear. He ground against you as he carefully pulled down the front zipper of your onesie. He needed to feel your nipples between his fingers, your breasts in his large hands. He also needed your pussy dripping for him, knowing he couldn’t fuck you when you were already sore without any lubrication. He reached into your onesie, finding your mound easily, and began to rub circles over your sensitive area, “Daddy needs you so badly.”
You squirmed, but you were tightly pressed against him. He teased you, moving back and forth from your clit to your breasts. He’d rub your breast until you were aching below, and when you started to feel close, he’d go back to teasing your nipples. 
He got you to a point where you were so stimulated that you were already orgasming with three slow and deep strokes inside of you. You were convulsing around him, unable to contain your moans, but Rafe wrapped his hand around your mouth and continued to pump inside of you. It certainly wasn’t as rough as earlier, but Rafe could feel you squeezing him tighter, “You feel how happy you make me, Bambi?” Rafe grunted, “Daddy wouldn’t want to cum in any other pussy than yours — Jesus.”
Rafe finished inside of you. He hadn’t lost all of his energy, though, moving his hands back to your clit, as he filled you up. He didn’t stop until your legs were shaking and you were cumming again. 
“Thank me.”
“Thank you, Daddy,” You spoke breathlessly. 
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Now that your Daddy was allowing you out of the house, there were new rules for you to learn. Of course, you weren’t allowed to talk to strangers unless they were girls you met at dance class. You had to go by Y/N, Y/L/N, and Rafe had given you an ID to carry around when you couldn’t be together. If anyone asked who you were to Rafe, you could just say that you were his girlfriend and you’d moved in with him a few months ago. That wasn’t far from the truth, so you didn’t imagine that would feel like lying. 
A few days after he showed you the ballet company, he let you tag along to run errands with him. For most of the time you sat in the car, watching him pump gas, stop at different businesses, and shake hands with men who seemed amused by every word Rafe said. You noticed people tended to stare at him, especially as the two of you walked through the grocery store together. 
“Did people always stare at you like this?”
“They used to stare at my Dad; he used to be the King of this place,” You nodded, twirling the ribbon in your hair as Rafe pushed the cart along, “I don’t think people expected me to come back.”
“Well, since you’re Dad is gone. I guess you’re the King now,” You flashed him a smile. 
“Maybe so,” Rafe conceded. 
“Oooh, look!” You pointed at something in the refrigerated section that caught your eye, and your feet were already moving towards it. As soon as you pulled open the glass door, you felt Rafe’s strong hands around your bicep, stopping you. You whipped back to see eyes narrowed at you and his serious face.
“You can’t just run away from me like that,” He snapped, “Jesus . . . don’t do that, okay?”
“I’m sorry,” You squeaked, “I just saw . . . they have so many types of iced coffee. They have peppermint, and caramel and mocha-”
“Coffee isn’t good for you.”
“You let me eat sweets all the time, and those aren’t good for me,” The words came out before you could stop them. You couldn’t help but feel frustrated. Rafe offered you the world, but at the same time, he controlled so many aspects of it. 
You’d pissed him off; you could immediately see it in his face. His hand still on your arm, Rafe leaned closer to you, “You’re going to stand right next to the cart for the rest of the time we’re in here, and you’re not going to say another word, okay? I don’t want to hear it.”
You let the door go just as Rafe let your arm go. You crossed your arms, knowing you had no other choice than to keep your mouth closed. Rafe didn’t have much to say after that, and you let him brood on his own. 
You were standing near the fresh produce; Rafe was picking out the vegetables that Lana had written on the grocery list when you saw a woman approaching your cart. She had caramel skin and pretty curls that were tamed by a messy bun on top of her head. She was holding a small shopping basket, but she didn’t seem to have any care for any of the items inside as she stomped closer to the two of you, red in her eyes. 
“Rafe Cameron!” She didn’t seem even to perceive you as she stared Rafe down. You watched his reaction closely and how his contempt quickly switched from you to her. 
“Kie, long time no see,” He didn’t express much emotion other than through his eyes, making him appear stoic. 
The woman, Kie, didn’t hide any of her emotions, “I know what you did.”
“What’s that?” Rafe tilted his head. 
“You know what exactly I’m talking about,” She pointed a finger at him, tears in her eyes, “Your day is coming–”
He proceeded to talk over her, “Hey, let your Mom and pops know Cameron Development is still interested in working with them. I have the perfect property for their next restaurant. I mean, an absolutely gorgeous spot.”
“Fuck you, Rafe,” You covered your mouth in shock. 
“It was nice catching up with you too, Kie,” He winked as the woman walked away. 
You watched as Rafe’s hands squeezed into a fist and then how tightly they wrapped around the cart’s handle. 
“Daddy-”
“Let’s go, Bambi.”
“Rafe-”
“I didn’t want to hear it before; I definitely don’t want to hear your mouth now. Let’s go.” 
You bit your tongue and fell back into step with him. You supposed a king couldn't be loved by all his subjects.
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PART 6
Please reblog if you enjoyed and let me know what you think/predictions for the future!
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starry-bi-sky · 7 months ago
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Danyal Al Ghul: Incorrect Quotes and Miscellaneous Thoughts
Incorrect quotes-style snippets specifically for my danyal al ghul au here (which i really need to come up with a unique au name for atp). Because I thought it'd be funny. And also some miscellaneous headcanons thrown into the mix. Some context for the au: - Danyal is 5 years older than Damian (so 10 and 15) - Danny faked his death when he was 10. Talia knows and helped him with it. - Jazz, Sam, and Tucker do not know he's an ex-assassin.
-------- Snippet 1
Danny, dryly tapping his temple: I have, as the Americans say, irreparable psychological damage, right here.
Jazz, an older sibling first and foremost: well, it's good that you're self-aware.
-------- Snippet 2
Danny, aged 10, in the American foster planning to just age out of the system: *emanating Bad Vibes. Pure, Little Orphan Tom Riddle Energy*
Jazz, aged 12, coming in to adopt a new sibling with her parents: Him. This is my brother now :)
Danny: ...what
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Lilo and Stitch is Danny's favorite Disney movie. He watched it when he was 11 with Jazz when she was attempting to connect with him, and by this point Danny was becoming receptive to her efforts. They had a movie marathon in the living room one night.
Safe to say? It resonated with his little 11 year old heart strongly, and he related very strongly with both Nani and Stitch. He got unexpectedly emotional and hid in his room for the rest of the night. Jazz felt really bad, but it had the intended (but kinda unexpected) effect of him trying to be nicer to her afterwards.
-------- Snippet 3
Dash, aged 12, causing trouble again and getting intercepted by Danny: *scaling up a desk* AHHHHH! GET YOUR LITTLE FREAK, FOLEY!
Tucker: Hey! Danny is not a freak!
Dash: GET HIM TO BACK OFF
Tucker, was the kid Dash was messing with: ....whats in it for me
-------- Snippet 4
Danny, saying some questionably immoral shit: What. Why are you looking at me like that.
Tucker: Bro. I mean this as kindly as possible; what the fuck?
Sam: yeah, I'm with Tuck on this one.
-------- Snippet 5
Danny, ranting about Vlad: if it weren't for the laws of this land, I would have slaughtered him
Sam, painting his nails black: I'm pretty sure you'd slaughter him regardless of the laws of the land -- and quit moving, you're gonna mess me up.
Tucker: we've literally seen you debate yourself about this, Dan
Danny: ...you are correct, but it is the principle of things.
-------- Snippet 6
Vlad: I have experience my child, and the money and power attained through using those powers for personal gain, you say. I could train you, teach you everything I know! And all you have to do is renounce that idiot adoptive father of yours.
Danny, was already contemplating committing a Violence: ....
Danny, internally: I'm going to stab him *turns into Phantom*
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Funny contrast I realized between Danyal and Vlad that iirc I haven't pointed out yet is that imo, Danyal doesn't rely on his powers nearly half as much as canon Danny does. He falls back instinctually on his League training, and thus sometimes forgets to use his powers in battle. This was prevalent especially early on when he was still getting used to the whole 'halfa' thing.
He incorporates them more often after a year, but still for the most part relies on his own physical hand-to-hand combat. He trusts those skills much more than he does his powers. I'm not sure where he is on a technical level compared to canon, but just to stay safe I'll say he's similar in power skill as canon Danny. Perhaps a little more finessed than him because his League training would probably have him trying to figure out his powers as soon as possible.
But in summary? Danny is strong in hand-to-hand combat, weak in powerset.
Meanwhile Vlad is the opposite. I can't recall if he even knows hand-to-hand in canon, but it makes total sense to me that Vlad Masters wouldn't because he's so confident in his monetary influence and ghost abilities that he sees no need for it.
And he's kinda got some merit behind it. He's very powerful and has 20 years of experience to experiment and fine tune his powers. He's got bite to follow up his bark. He's perfected long-range combat and his ability to phase through walls makes it impossible to corner him, but if you can manage it, then one good hit could probably knock him on his ass.
So in summary, Vlad is strong in powerset, weak in hand-to-hand combat.
And it casts a good contrast between the two of them in that regard. Danny, as a fellow halfa, can follow Vlad when he phases through walls and is fast enough to land a hit on him. His league training as an assassin, albeit rusty, is still deep ingrained enough in him that he can hold up as a rather veritable threat against Vlad without needing his powers.
But Vlad can force Danny to use his powers more often through use of his own. The duplication is the first thing to come to mind: Danny's fast enough to dispel them on his own without powers, and smart enough that he could figure out who the real one is if given a few minute. But that's not always efficient enough.
Good foils for each other that way. Also Vlad's Plasmius design mimics Ra's juuust enough that he looks like Ra's knockoff loser second cousin no one talks about, which only fuels Danny's hatred.
-------- Snippet 7
Danny, ranting about Vlad for the first time: --and it's only made worse by the fact that the little ingrate resembles a cheap knock-off of my grandfather!--
Sam, choking on her water: he what--
Tucker, doing a spittake: HE DOES?
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softieyuume · 27 days ago
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Anything, Everything
✿ Sylus x fem!reader
✿ He'd give you everything you'd ask for and you'll treasure even the smallest of things he's given you.
✿ pure fluff.
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It wasn't an exaggeration to say Sylus was loaded with riches- from his illegal protocores trades to owning nearly worldwide armories in the palm of his hands, he's filthy rich to the point he doesn't really do much with his money other than certain necessities.
Well, that changed until you came into his life.
Sylus didn't hesitate to spoil you using his riches be it with buying you expensive jewelry, treating you with delicious foods, bringing you on spontaneous travel trips - hell, he even gave you his black credit card for you to use to your heart's content -whilst ignoring how his henchmen called their boss whipped for you numerous times- he wanted you to have anything and everything you could ever ask for.
Which is why it was surprising to Sylus when one day he found you carefully sewing your slightly torn knit grey cardigan.
Sylus leaned over by the sofa just behind you, his brows furrowed in confusion as he observed your cardigan. It looked a tad bit worn out in his eyes and he wondered why you didn't opt to just buy a new one instead.
"Sweetie, you know you don't need to fix that, right? I could just get you a new one." Sylus offered, and while the way he said it was nonchalant, internally he was concerned as he watched you continue meticulously sewing the fabric in your hands.
Were you trying to save money for some reason? Did you think Sylus couldn't afford to do that? That's ridiculous. Sylus thought to himself, thinking about what reason you could possibly have to fix that old thing.
You let out a soft chuckle, hands brushing the fabric on your lap, "I know, I know. But this cardigan has.. sentimental value, you know? Plus, it makes me happy to fix it myself."
You smiled softly, glancing at Sylus over your shoulder — you knew it must've baffled Sylus quite a bit. Heck, everything about you baffled him more often than not, and this was no exception. After all, he was quite a practical creature. In his head, you could just buy a new one, it certainly wouldn't dent his bank account that was for sure, but you felt otherwise.
"Besides, this one is very special to me." You patted the mended knit cardigan, smiling brightly up at Sylus, your eyes shone with warmth and affection. "Because it's the first gift you gave me."
Sylus blinked, stunned, before slowly his lips quirking into a soft smile. Your answer was so unexpectedly endearing, to think such a simple gift he brought for you on an impulse during the first eventful trip together turned out to be the very one you treasured most made his heart swell.
"I see." Sylus hummed with a chuckle, he moved to sit beside you on the sofa, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his lap.
"And here I thought you were just pinching pennies. Guess I'm not spoiling you enough, huh." He teased, peppering kisses along your face and neck as his hands rested around your waist.
"Ah! Stop it, Sy! That tickles!" You laughed, your face scrunched up as you tried to move away from him. You squirmed in his arms, struggling to stop him from peppering kisses all over your ticklish neck but your attempts were in vain.
Sylus was relentless in his playful kisses attacks, his smile growing wider and more teasing as you tried to pull away from him. His hands around your waist preventing you from escaping his embrace, refusing to let go at all.
He could do this all day if he could.
But after much protest and struggling from you, Sylus finally let you go with another chuckle, leaning back against the sofa while holding you in his lap. He looked up at you, his thumb stroking your back affectionately.
He let out a deep sigh, "You're far too sweet for your own good, you know." He smiled, gently brushing aside your hair from your face so that he could see your face better.
"At least promise me this, let me know if you ever need anything, alright?" He murmured softly, eyes locked onto yours.
You chuckled, tilting your head at Sylus's words, "But of course! You'd do everything for me, wouldn't you?" You replied cheekily, giggling as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, leaning your forehead against his, gazing deeply into his eyes with affection.
It was a playful exchange, teasing yet heartfelt. You knew that Sylus already considered your needs, even before you voiced them.
It was one of the many reasons that you loved him. Every action, every gesture, every expression spoke volumes in your mind. Sylus didn't have to say much to make you feel loved.
"Every penny, every dime, I'd spend it all on you, sweetie." He replied with a soft sigh. Sylus gently pulled you further into his embrace, his strong arms wrapping around your waist as he buried his face into the crook of your neck.
He was a possessive lover, even if he didn't show it often. It's hard not to be selfish when it comes to you: you were everything to him, after all.
He pressed a light kiss on your jawline, warm breath tickling against your skin. "Everything."
You sighed softly with content, your eyes closing as you leaned into his touch, wrapping your arms around his neck more tightly than before.
You loved it when Sylus held you like he was doing now - it made you feel safe, cherished, and adored all at once. And it always made your heart flutter when he whispered sweet nothings in your ear, making you feel like you were the only person in the world that mattered to him.
And you knew that to Sylus, you are.
You leaned in closer, pressing your lips against his in a gentle kiss, whispering sweetly, "I love you, Sylus."
Sylus's lips curled into a fond smile when he felt your lips against his, his heart skipping a beat. He returned your kiss with equal passion, his arms tightening around your waist, keeping you close. He loved this feeling - being able to hold you like this, to feel your heartbeat against his chest, to feel your warmth. It was addicting, and he didn't want to ever let her go.
"I love you more, my beloved.”
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eowynstwin · 12 days ago
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Blackbird, Fly - Four
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Cowboy Gaz x mail order bride—only, not his. After exchanging letters for half a year with ranching man Hans König, you finally travel out west to marry him. Gaz had been the only one to try and warn you. previous - ao3 - next
When you wake the next morning, Hans’ side of the bed is empty, the linens already cold.
As sleep leaves you in fits and starts, the aches pull you inward—glowing dull and orange like banked embers. Your whole body feels like a twisted ankle. Nothing is broken, exactly, but every muscle feels as if it’s been pulled in a direction God never quite intended it to move.
Your shoulders. The meat of your thighs. Your hips.
The entrance to your womb.
It isn’t the knife-sharp pain from before. Only the muted, persistent throb of a wound left alone to heal. In the cottony space between sleep and waking, you think there should be more damage—for all of what happened last night. And yet, there isn’t.
Still, you don’t move when your eyes finally open. Stillness seems the only defense against the bare truth of the gray morning.
Your husband used you hard on your wedding night, and did not care for the pain he caused.
You are not fool enough to think your experience unique. Women talked as much as girls did. Your mother’s friends were wont to complain when they thought the children out of earshot: husbands who grunted and sweated over them in the night, often without uttering a word. Sometimes not even waiting for the pain of childbirth to subside before claiming their marital due.
You just had come to believe, with every letter that arrived, that your fate would be different.
But it turns out none of this is a dream after all.
Your throat closes, then. Tears prick hot in the corners of your eyes.
Stupid, stupid girl.
You swallow hard. Sit up away from the pillows, even as the aches flare in protest.
Beside you, where your husband slept, there’s a noticeable dip in the mattress. Worn in over years of slumber, and you, you suppose, on Anna’s side of the bed.
Was Hans kind to her too, before?
Abruptly you swing your legs out from the linens, and go to find one of the dresses you brought along from home.
The house is empty when you descend the stairs, as far as you can tell. You hear the steady tick, tock of a grandfather clock somewhere in the sitting room that you hadn’t noticed yesterday, in all of the commotion of the wedding preparations. The floorboards creak beneath your feet as your grumbling stomach leads you along to the kitchen.
The space is as modern and well-appointed as the rest of the house, and bigger than any kitchen you ever imagined needed to be. A cast-iron wood stove with four burners and a large oven, a sink with a pump right there by the basin, and—you nearly stop dead at the luxury—an ice box, right there beside one long counter.
You momentarily forget the troubles of the night, crouching beside the little box in fascination. A cloud of cool fog descends when you swing open the door; you brush the tips of your fingers across the huge block of ice on the top shelf, jerking them away when the cold unexpectedly burns. Not once in your life have you ever seen so much ice in one place.
On the lower shelf, you find cuts of pork and beef, wrapped in brown butcher’s paper and tied with string. Bacon for breakfast, then, and biscuits if you can find flour. Your mother always said that a difficult thing was easier after having a meal.
You find the larder stocked with further luxury. Nowhere are the home-jarred goods that would populate your family’s pantry, garden-grown vegetables pickled in vinegar or hand-pressed jams fresh from the blackberry bushes along the road. Instead you find rows and rows of cans, factory-sealed tins of manufactured uniformity, colorfully labeled and containing everything you might have ever thought to grow yourself and more.
Beans of every variety. Corn. Carrots. Peas. Beets. Tomatoes.
How much must all this have cost? So many, and lined up deep into the back of the larder. You and Hans couldn’t possible eat them all before some of them began to spoil. Of course, if he could afford to buy so much, maybe that didn’t matter.
You find the flour, and baking powder as well. Breakfast is a quick affair after that, and thankfully so, as your stomach really begins to complain as soon as the food is ready.
There’s a small table in the kitchen—yet more luxury, you think, remembering the long dining table you saw yesterday—and it’s there you sit down to solve your hunger.
The hard wooden chair is not kind to the ache between your legs.
You bite into the bacon, crunching it to pieces. There—it’s all right. You have your breakfast. Isn’t that something to be grateful for? Breakfast, and a nice stove, and an ice box, and a kitchen so stuffed with food that you can’t imagine ever running out.
Isn’t this what a loving husband provides? A good home, for his wife to live comfortably in? Pretty dresses, like the one he gave to you last night? A nice ring on your finger—the little gem glittering in the sunlight streaming in through the kitchen window?
Hans loves you. Of course. This is love.
You bite into one biscuit, hot and steaming from the pan and burning your tongue. Your mother can make them better, but you tried the best you could to follow the recipe she taught you.
The front door opens outside of the kitchen. Something quick and sharp travels up your spine. Heavy boots step inside—your husband, come looking for you—you freeze without realizing it, holding half-chewed food in your mouth—
“Mrs. König?” calls Kate Laswell, the foreman, and you relax.
“In here,” you call, after swallowing.
Laswell enters the kitchen, and turns to you, at the table. She’s dressed in mens’ clothes, dusty trousers and a heavy jacket over a button-up shirt, and a wide-brimmed hat still on her head. She looks like she’s dressed to travel.
“I’m afraid I can’t show you the accounts today, like I said I would,” she tells you, no preamble, no pleasantries.
You remember then your brief conversation with her the previous night—and Hans’ disapproval at the idea.
You set down your biscuit. “Good morning, Miss Laswell. Why not?”
“I’m going over to visit the Vargas place. We’ve been working on a leasing deal. I’ll explain when I get back.”
“Of course,” you say. “Would—” you clear your throat, embarrassed— “Would you know where my husband might be?”
The lines of Laswell’s face tighten. She has a severe look to her that you think is always present—ranch work must harden anyone, man or woman—but there is no wedding happening around you now to distract you from the unmistakable displeasure on her face.
“Last I saw he was out with the herd,” she says shortly. “Anyway, I’ll be gone for a few days. The ledger is in the cabinet by the desk. Take a look at it if you find the time.”
She tips her hat to you before you can figure out how to respond—some part of you bristles at being given orders by someone who is now, ostensibly, your employee—and leaves the kitchen. You scramble to follow her, and catch her when she’s nearly out the door.
“Miss Laswell,” you call, “is Hans—is my husband—”
You’re not very sure what you intended to ask her, before you began the question. Nor, you realize, do you think she could answer honestly, if you asked her what you really wanted to know. It wouldn’t be her place, and it would be inappropriate of you to ask.
If you could actually work up the courage to approach it.
So you settle for, “Is my husband angry with me?”
She stops, and blinks at you. You see her look you up and down, briefly, but when she meets your eyes her expression is impossible to read.
“I have no idea,” she says, and her tone betrays nothing. “Gaz wants to see you in the stables when you have a moment today. Ma’am.”
She nods farewell at you and leaves.
The steady ticking of the grandfather clock punctuates the end of the odd exchange. Disoriented, you return to the kitchen to clear away the remnants of your breakfast, flushing in confusion.
Do you really want this?
His question rings now in your ears. Along with it come memories of the previous night. The Madame’s odd interest in you. The store owner Miss Boucher’s sidelong glance at Hans. Myriad other quirks of the brow or mouth that you only now grasp the meaning of.
Everyone knew, somehow, what was coming. Everyone except you.
And Gaz had been the only one to try and warn you.
You tug on a shawl as you step out onto the front porch, breathing in the mountain air. The morning chill hasn’t yet burned off, and the sky has yet to gain its full color. Across the clearing, Kyle Garrick is at work in the stable’s corral.
He holds one end of a long lead, attached at the other to the bridle of a red-brown horse, which trots in a wide circle around him. Occasionally, with the lunge-whip he holds in his free hand, Gaz taps the horse’s hindquarters, redirecting it patiently whenever it tries to move inward or otherwise deviate from its orbit.
Horses are scared creatures, Miss, I don’t know if you know this, Hans had written. You must be gentle when you train them, or destine them to a lifetime of anxiety.
When you approach, the horse’s attention briefly turns toward you, but Gaz taps it again and it goes back into its pacing. You have a moment to admire the long line of the cowboy’s body, the focused angles of his shoulders and hips, before he addresses you, sensing your presence without having to turn and look at you.
“Good morning, miss,” he says. “Did you sleep well?”
“Yes, thank you,” you say. It feels dishonest, even if it isn’t a lie. “Good morning, Mr. Garrick.”
The horse makes its way past you, and then Gaz brings it to a stop. He winds up the lead in one hand and makes his way over to you, meeting you where you stand by the corral fence.
You can’t help but notice how handsome he looks in the light of late morning. The serious expression on his face is the same one he’d worn the day before; you suspect it’s his natural disposition.
You remember the brief smile he’d shown you last night, before Hans had taken you away, and your cheeks warm despite yourself.
“I thought I might introduce you to the horses today,” he says. “If you’ve got the time, that is.”
“Oh,” you gasp, suddenly eager, “Please! I’ve been looking forward to it ever since Hans proposed! I told him about the two old nags we had on our farm, to pull our wagon, and he said—”
We must get you on a proper horse, then, to show you the true pleasure riding may offer.
You stop mid-sentence. Something about what Hans had written rings in your memory now with a different note. It seems…mocking, almost. Imbued purposefully with a meaning intended to escape you, given you had not the experience enough to catch it.
Shame blooms painfully behind your breastbone.
“…He mentioned he’d bring me to meet them,” you say lamely.
The smile Gaz gives you doesn’t reach his eyes. “He’s very busy, or I suppose he would be today.”
“I suppose,” you echo.
Gaz inhales deeply, and then he gestures to the red-brown horse. “Well—this here is Newt. I’ve been getting him used to the bridle today.”
“Hello, Newt,” you say to the horse. You reach a hand out, briefly, but then pull it back; your instinct is to let the horse get your scent, like you might with a farm dog, but you don’t know if you should. Your father had always handled the nags.
Gaz notices, and brings one big hand to Newt’s long face, squeezing the arch of his muzzle. The horse’s eyes droop in obvious pleasure.
“He’s a big baby,” says Gaz, expression gentling. “I’m trying to see if he’ll make a good cutter, but it’s too early to tell.”
You reach out again. Newt’s velvety nostrils flare as he inhales, and then his hot breath bathes your hand and wrist. You suppose you have his approval, because Newt simply works his teeth a little and makes no indication of displeasure.
“A cutter?”
“Yeah. The kind of horse that can cut a steer out from the herd so you can drive it someplace else,” Gaz explains. “Horses either got cow-sense, or they don’t. Here, come around inside and I’ll show you the rest.”
Long Mask Ranch, Hans had written, built its reputation on the quality of its quarter horses. In the early days of its inception, his father had struck an extremely lucrative deal providing the US Army with its cavalry mounts, which had turned out to be a perfect way for the ranch’s reputation to spread. Even after the army mostly withdrew from the region, every state in the surrounding countryside knew: if you wanted good horses, you went to Long Mask.
“These are the yearlings,” Gaz explains as he leads you through the stable. “Just now we’re getting them trained to follow directions. Won’t be riding ‘em for a couple years yet.”
He puts Newt away and beckons you to follow. In the neighboring stall, one of the horses pokes its head out over the gate. It’s a light-colored colt, yellowish in the body and white-maned.
“This is Gus,” Gaz says, scratching its fuzzy chin. “He’s a big flirt, yeah, aren’t you, boy?”
You also reach out to give Gus a pat, and the colt chuffs and butts his nose into your hand, proving Gaz’s accusation. You can’t help giggling a little.
When another horse across the building snorts, Gaz chuckles, and leads you in the direction of the noise. “Ah, yeah, and that’s Woodrow. Him and Gus are always goin’ at it, but you won’t ever see better friends.”
Woodrow is dark gray horse with a distinctly unamused face. He accepts a pat on the forehead with what you can only describe as resigned patience. Gaz feeds him a sugar cube from one pocket for his trouble.
He takes you further along down the line of stalls. You meet a spirited filly named Elmira, and a colt beside her named July whose love for her is unrequited.
“We’ve already gelded him, so it wouldn’t matter much anyway,” Gaz relates.
He speaks fondly of every horse as you meet them, with the familiarity of long days working beside each of them. It relaxes him, you realize, to speak of them—the hard set of his expression has softened, the serious line of his brows eased from their iron setting.
It makes him look—not younger, you decide, but properly his age. A cowboy just beginning the best years of his career, still hale and fit enough to meet the rough demands of the job, but with enough experience under his belt to confront any challenge with confidence.
Such confidence is obvious in the way he moves. He walks loose and easy through the stable, his every step as assured as the sunrise the next morning. The line of his broad shoulders, the swooping curve of his back—they tell you at a mere glance that home is in this place, working with these creatures, and there could be nothing more Kyle Garrick might long for besides.
Envy twists your intestines around its fingers. There’s an empty space inside of you that you’d been expecting, as your wedding vows had finally taken flight, to fill with that same feeling.
At the end of the stable, in a stall in the back corner, a horse pokes its head out over the gate. It’s bigger than the yearlings, with a pale face and a dark, gray muzzle. It looks right at you, with such a clear focus that it startles you.
“Ah,” says Gaz, when he sees. “Was wondering if she’d notice us.”
“She?”
He nods. “A mare. She’s…difficult.”
The mare stares at you, with deep, night-black eyes.
“What do you mean?” you ask.
Gaz works his lips over his teeth. “Mr. König bought her last year off another rancher who was ‘bout fit to shoot her. She’s a thoroughbred, and she ain’t never met a white man she likes. As like to buck a man off as to let him ride.”
“Oh,” you say.
Gaz leans against the wall between two stalls. “Mr. König thought he might be able to break her. So far she hasn’t gotten him off her, but she won’t let him come near without putting up a fight. I’m the only one can saddle ‘er.”
You frown. “Why would he ride a horse that doesn’t want to be ridden?”
At that, Gaz’s eyes go cold. Shockingly cold, like an empty winter’s night. “Suppose he just likes taking what he wants, I guess.”
You should reprimand him. You know it immediately. It’s no way to talk about his employer, and certainly nothing he should ever say in front of you, his employer’s wife.
But you remember the blood, and still feel the ache. You have to look away from him, ashamed. Embarrassed.
You cannot defend your husband, and he must know it.
“I imagine he must know what he’s about,” you mumble.
Gaz gives a derisive snort. “I don’t know about that. He’s of a mind to start with thoroughbreds, but she will not let him breed her. Damn near killed every stallion he’s brought her to try.”
It hits you so sharply that you inhale with sudden pain, pressure knifing at your eyes. You turn away from Gaz entirely now, pressing your hands to your chest. Every ache from the night previous ricochets around inside you again, knocking all the way down into your bones.
You tip your head upward, as if it will prevent the gathering tears from falling. What’s worse, Gaz puts a hand on your shoulder behind you. You flinch at the touch, hips aching where Hans had bruised them in his grip.
“I’m sorry, Miss,” Gaz says softly. He sounds like he means it. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
He knows exactly what ails you. And why wouldn’t he? He’s known his employer for years. He’s worked this ranch for longer than you’ve even known of its existence.
He knew the previous Mrs. König, who first endured Hans’ attentions.
You are a terrible fool, and you are the last to know it.
He doesn’t remove his hand as you tremble. He squeezes you gently, the same caress he’d given to the young colt Newt. It is so kind that it nearly breaks you.
“Here,” Gaz murmurs, “let’s see something.”
You turn back to him; he takes your hand, and leads you to the back of the stable. The mare follows the two of you with her eyes, expression unchanging as you approach her.
Closer now, she is a stunning creature. You’ve never seen anything like her. Her coat is silvery-gray, with darker patterns all over her body, like ink absorbed into paper and then laid beneath a light rain. Her legs and mane are the same dark color as her muzzle, and there is a deep intelligence in her eyes as she beholds you.
“You might be the first woman she’s ever seen up close,” Gaz says.
He takes up a position behind you, and turns your hand over in his, opening your fingers. Then, slowly, so the horse can see it, he brings them to her face, pressing your fingertips to the soft whorl on her forehead.
The mare’s eyes do not leave you. She exhales a little through relaxed nostrils, chuffing, flicking her ears toward you. You play with the starburst of pale hair, following the direction it grows; her lids, heavy with thick, black lashes, drop a little.
“I’ll be,” Gaz murmurs behind you. “I think she might like you, miss.”
A loud BANG claps against the wall on the other end of the stable, and the mare jerks her head immediately, flinging your hand away. She grunts, snorts, and dances away from the gate, shaking her head, eyes flaring wide.
You and Gaz both look to the commotion—
Your husband stands in the open doorway, cast in a dark silhouette by the late morning light.
“Just what the hell are you doing?”
-
a/n: the horses' names are all references to characters in my favorite western, Lonesome Dove by Larry McMurtry.
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wholoveseggs · 1 month ago
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Kinktober - {Day Twelve}
{<- kinktober masterlist}
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18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List} {Kinktober}
{Kol Mikaelson x F!Reader} Request { @midoriiakina }: Idea is: She often goes to the library, far from others in a secluded little spot, listening to music while she works and thus, she's oblivious to the world around her while she's working. Secretly, she's already a published author writing romance novels as a side hustle to pay the bills, even writing steamy as hell sex scenes even though she's a virgin, too busy or too shy to have any actual experience herself ... he sneaks up on her while she's working and reads over her shoulder, seeing that she's writing some unexpectedly kinky sex scene. And of course, Kol being Kol, he can't help himself... Kinks list: Overstim, breeding, size kink, height kink (lets be honest, he's a foot and a half taller than her, he can manhandle her around like a doll), hair pulling, public sex (Mustn't be too loud in the library, darling!), squirting/cum, oral, blood drinking (she knows he's a vampire and doesn't care how much he marks her up), virgin (but mostly knows what she's doing), and morning after somno to wake her up for more~!
♡♡♡ Darling! Sweetheart! Babe! Your request was so long & detailed... I appreciate your enthusiasm, but I had to shorten this idea immensely... That being said, I LOVE YOU FOR IT.... SO YOU WIN!!!!! You are the greedy award winner & you get a certificate!!!!!! (see the bottom of this post for your reward) ~ XOXO ♡♡♡
3.1k words - Kinks: library sex, a tad bit meta, Kol being a mega flirt, overstim, size, breeding, hair pulling, public, squirting, blood drinking, inexperience...
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The library was always your favorite place, especially the quiet corners where you could hide and read your books. You could easily get lost there for hours, curled up in an armchair by a window, just reading away your worries.
That was what you had intended to do this afternoon, but inspiration had struck and instead, you had opened your laptop and started writing. It was the perfect way to pass the time, letting your fingers fly across the keyboard as you created worlds and characters and scenarios, letting yourself escape reality.
There was this particular fantasy you liked to write, a series of one shots based on your biggest turn ons, and today you were writing about a vampire that had caught your eye at the Mystic Grill. He was tall and handsome and the thought of him pinning you against a wall was making heat pool between your legs.
You knew who he was, all dark and dangerous, a Mikaelson. But even though the Mikaelsons had a reputation for being trouble, you couldn't help the way your eyes would roam across his chest and down his arms whenever you saw him.
It wasn't like you were ever going to make a move, or even have a chance with someone like that. So instead you chose to channel all your pent up desires into a good story. Your thighs rubbed together as you imagined him kissing you, and you were so lost in the words and the fantasy that you didn't notice anyone approaching you until a shadow fell over your laptop.
"I... um..." you stuttered, not knowing what to say. You wanted to crawl into a hole and die, you were utterly mortified that someone had caught you. You had been so careful to keep it a secret, and now...
Your head snapped up, heart in your throat, and you found yourself staring up into the face of the very same vampire you had been writing about. Kol Mikaelson stood behind you, leaning in to read over your shoulder. "Interesting... 'his hands pinned my hips against the wall as his fangs dragged across my neck.' how very kinky of you," he chuckled, and you quickly shut your laptop, your cheeks burning bright red.
"Don't stop on my account, love. I was quite enjoying the story," he said, taking the seat across from yours. "What happens next?"
You gaped at him, mouth hanging open, trying to form a response. What the hell did he mean by that?
He grinned at your reaction, "You know, we could make that happen if you'd like."
"I... what? No! That's... that's ridiculous," you shook your head, unable to believe he was actually propositioning you. You must have been dreaming. There was no way Kol Mikaelson was flirting with you.
"Why is it ridiculous? Do you have a boyfriend or something?" he asked, grinning even wider when you shook your head. "So why not? It's just a bit of sex,"
You didn't know what to say, so you just sat there staring at him. After a minute he laughed and leaned forward. "Come on, don't tell me you've never had sex before, sweetheart."
Now you really wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out. Maybe there was a spell to make you invisible, so you could just disappear from this conversation.
"I, um, I mean, not... not exactly," you finally managed to stutter, cheeks burning even hotter.
He leaned back, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "Well now that is unexpected, considering the words you have flowing through that pretty little head of yours."
You blushed, unable to meet his gaze. This was so embarrassing, but it also felt strangely exciting. No one had ever talked to you like this, and the fact that it was Kol made it even better.
Kol watched your reactions, and decided he was going to have a bit of fun with you. He had seen you around town in the past few weeks, and he knew you were a witch, a very cute one at that. And he loved cute witches, they were always so much fun to tease.
"How about this then, since you're so innocent, let's play a little game," he said, smirking at the way you were fidgeting. "We can each tell each other a fantasy, and if we both like it, then we can act it out."
You swallowed, looking up at him, "please stop," you whispered, feeling nervous.
"What do you mean?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I... I mean I don't appreciate you making fun of me," you mumbled, looking down again.
Kol frowned, surprised. "I'm not making fun of you, love, I just want to get to know you a little better," he said, trying a different tactic.
You looked up at him, not sure what to say. He sounded sincere, and he was so attractive that it made you nervous. You wanted him to be sincere, to actually like you, but you couldn't stop the tiny voice inside you telling you that this was all just a joke.
He smiled softly, seeing the conflict in your eyes, "How about this, I'll tell you one of my fantasies, and if you like it, you can tell me one of yours."
You considered his offer for a moment, biting your lip as you looked up at him, trying to decide if he was being serious or not. Finally, you nodded, "Okay," you whispered, curious to hear what he would say.
He smirked, pleased that you had agreed, and leaned closer, "I love it when I have a pretty little thing in my lap... and she... makes a mess, if you know what I mean,"
You could feel your body responding, his words sending a rush of heat through you. You shifted in your seat, pressing your thighs together, unable to deny how aroused his words had made you.
Kol noticed the shift in your body, and he knew he was getting to you. "Come now, darling ... You write about these things, but can't speak them aloud?" he asked, smirking at the way you blushed.
You were growing tired of feeling so embarrassed, so you took a deep breath, willing yourself to be confident, to be the version of you that you wrote about. You met his gaze, "I've fantasized about... having sex in public," you said, voice shaking slightly.
He raised his eyebrows, a slow smile spreading across his lips. "Well now... that's a very naughty thing for such an innocent little girl," he teased, his words sending another wave of heat through you.
"I'm not that innocent," you retorted, trying to maintain eye contact, but it was hard when his eyes were so dark and intense.
He chuckled, "oh, I'm sure. You just need someone to teach you how to be a proper little slut," he purred, making your core clench.
"And you think you're up to the task?" you asked, surprising yourself with how bold the words sounded coming from your mouth.
"I think I can handle a pretty little thing like you," he grinned, watching as your cheeks turned pink.
You looked around the library, suddenly remembering that you were still in a very public place, and anyone could see you. Your gaze met his again, and you swallowed hard, "what if someone sees us?"
He leaned closer, his eyes burning into yours, "isn't that what makes it so hot?" he whispered, his voice low and seductive.
You bit your lip, your body aching with need. You were still a little hesitant, but there was no denying the way his words affected you, and you were tired of denying yourself what you wanted. This was an opportunity you couldn't let go to waste.
"Okay," you whispered, "let's do it."
His eyes lit up, genuinely surprised that he had convinced you. But he was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He stood up, taking your hand, and led you towards the stacks of bookshelves, further into the library.
There was a cozy little corner that had a couch, and he took a seat, patting his lap, and waited for you to join him. You hesitated for a moment, not sure if you could actually do this, but he was so sexy and confident and you wanted to be just like that. So you took a deep breath and climbed into his lap, straddling his hips.
His hands moved to your waist, holding you in place, and his gaze drifted over your body, taking in the sight of you. "At least tell me you've kissed someone before," he said, giving your hip a little squeeze.
"Of course I have," you replied, feeling a little offended by the question.
He grinned and pulled you closer, pressing his lips against yours, kissing you deeply. You moaned softly, your hands gripping his shoulders, feeling his muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt. His lips were so soft, and he kissed you with a passion that made your toes curl.
You had kissed guys before, but it had never felt like this. He knew what he was doing, and he certainly knew how to turn a girl on. He tasted like mint and spice, and you felt dizzy with desire.
He pulled away, leaving you breathless and wanting more. His lips trailed down your neck, nipping at your skin, and you could feel the slight graze of his fangs. The thought of him biting you was exciting, but also a little terrifying.
A small spark of your magic tingled on your fingertips, a natural reflex to danger, and the feeling made him pause. He lifted his head and looked at you, "do I make you nervous, love?" he asked, a grin spreading across his lips.
You took a shaky breath, trying to calm your racing heart, and shook your head, "No, I'm fine," you said, trying to sound confident, but your voice came out a little squeaky.
He smirked, knowing full well that he made you nervous. But instead of pushing the issue, he reached under your dress and ran his fingers up the inside of your thigh, teasing your warm skin.
"Now, if we were in a more private setting, I would strip you naked and worship every inch of you. But alas, we'll have to be a bit more subtle," he said, his fingers brushing across the front of your panties.
You gasped, and he grinned, knowing the effect his touch was having on you. His fingers continued to tease you, brushing over a damp spot, searching for your little nub, and when he found it, your hips jerked and you let out a moan.
He grinned, loving the way you responded to his touch, and pressed a little harder, making circles with his fingers. "You are such a pretty little thing," he whispered, his other hand moving to grip your hair, tugging slightly.
You moaned at his words, and the sensation of him playing with your hair, tugging on the strands as his fingers moved. It was intoxicating, and you found yourself rolling your hips, grinding against his hand.
"Ooh, she likes it a bit rough, does she?" he teased, his voice low and seductive, "what else do you like sweetheart?"
Your mind was spinning, overwhelmed with sensations, and you struggled to find words. But the way his fingers moved had you desperate for more. "I... I like... the idea of being filled with.. cum." Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, hoping he knew what you meant.
He chuckled, amused by your shyness, "I'm the perfect bloke to try it with then," he said, his words making your stomach flip, "Can't get you pregnant, being a vampire and all... but I sure do love to try…"
His words sent a rush of heat through you, and before you could stop yourself, you were nodding. You wanted him, desperately.
He grinned, pushing your panties to the side and pressing two fingers inside of you, making you gasp.
He worked them slowly, his thumb rubbing circles over your clit, and it was all too much. You had never been this turned on before, and the way he touched you made your whole body feel like it was on fire.
You leaned in and kissed him, desperate for more. He tasted so good, and his lips were so soft. His tongue danced with yours, and he sucked gently on your lower lip, making you whimper.
Your hands gripped his shoulders, and you ground down against his hand, wanting more.
"Eager little thing, seems you aren't quite so innocent after all," he murmured, grinning against your lips.
"I told you, I'm not," you breathed, moaning softly as his fingers moved faster.
He chuckled, enjoying the way you were squirming, your cheeks flushed, the sweet little moans escaping your lips.
He could feel your walls starting to tighten around his fingers, and he knew you were close. He pulled his fingers out, making you whimper in frustration, and quickly unzipped his jeans.
"Now, sweet thing, writing about riding a cock and actually doing it are two very different things," he teased, taking your hand and putting it on his warm length.
You could feel how hard he was, and it was thrilling. His skin was so smooth, and you wrapped your fingers around him, stroking gently. He groaned, his eyes fluttering shut, and you could feel his cock twitching.
"Good girl, keep doing that," he moaned, his hands gripping your thighs, helping you plant your feet on the sofa so that you could lift yourself up.
You positioned his cock at your entrance, feeling the head rubbing against your wet slit, and slowly started to sink down. The stretch was almost too much, and you gasped, feeling your walls stretch around him.
"Slow down," he growled, his fingers digging into your thighs, holding you in place, "You have to take it slow, or else it will hurt."
You stopped, taking a few deep breaths, and tried again. He held your hips steady, guiding you down, and you could feel the burn as he slid deeper. It was an intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain, and you could feel yourself stretching, taking him inch by inch.
When he was fully inside you, you let out a sigh, feeling so full.
"Far superior than any toy that you modern girls seem to favor," he said, chuckling at your expression.
"Shh... let me focus," you hissed, adjusting to the feeling of him.
"So bossy," he teased, but didn't say anything else, letting you take your time.
You moved your hips a little, testing the waters, and a soft moan escaped your lips. He felt so good inside you, filling you completely.
His hands gripped your hips, and he guided you into a slow, steady rhythm, helping you ride him. The muscles in your thighs immediately started to burn, and it was distracting you from your pleasure, so you put a hand on his shoulder and used him as leverage, grinding down harder.
"That's it," he murmured, his eyes glued to the point where you were joined, watching his cock disappear inside you, "you're a natural."
You moaned, feeling your body start to tingle, and knew that you were close. Your nails dug into his shoulders and he groaned, his hips jerking up, driving himself deeper. It didn't take long for you to completely unravel, falling over the edge with a cry, his name on your lips.
There was a sudden loud sound of a book dropping to the floor nearby, and you froze, wide-eyed, suddenly remembering that you were not alone.
Kol laughed, clearly amused by the situation and you pressed your face into the crook of his neck, trying to hide your embarrassment.
"Don't worry sweet girl, no one saw us," he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear.
He gently picked you up, keeping your bodies connected as he turned and laid you down on the sofa, his hips grinding against yours. He took your wrists and pinned them above your head, his fingers interlaced with yours.
"Now, let's see how quiet you can be, hmm?" he teased, his hips moving slowly, rocking against yours.
Your fingers dug into his hands, and he picked up the pace, his cock sliding in and out of you, his skin slapping against yours.
"I'm going to fill you up with my cum and make a proper mess of you," he whispered, his lips trailing over your neck, his fangs grazing the skin.
He reached between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing circles over the sensitive nub, and you gasped, the pleasure building inside you again.
His fangs pierced your skin, the sharp pain mixing with the pleasure of his cock thrusting inside you, and it sent you over the edge again. Your thighs trembling, a gush of wetness rushing from your core. Your walls clenched around him, and he groaned, his hips jerking as he came, spilling himself deep inside you.
"That's a good girl, making a mess just like I requested," he teased, his breath hot against your neck.
Your face was flushed, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. It had been the most intense orgasm of your life, and you were still struggling to wrap your mind around what had just happened.
He pulled back, grinning down at you, "See? Way better than fiction," he said, leaning down to kiss you softly.
Your heart was pounding, and you couldn't deny that he was right. Being with him was better than any fantasy.
He pulled back, giving you a wicked smirk. "Well, now that we've established how not very innocent you are, how about I take you home and we can try out all our fantasies on each other,"
You bit your lip and nodded, not able to deny how much you wanted him, again.
He stood, and helped you up, straightening your dress, and fixing his pants. He was surprisingly sweet with you, fixing your hair and leaving little kisses on your cheeks.
"I hope you know I don't want this to be a one time thing," he said, taking your hand and leading you to the exit.
"I wouldn't mind seeing where this could go," you replied, smiling shyly up at him.
He walked with you out of the library, and down the sidewalk, and the cool night air made you shiver. You were glad for the company, and you found yourself leaning into him, his arm around your waist.
"Now, where do you live, my little writer?"
You grinned, and gave him directions, excited for whatever he had in mind next.
After all, it would make a good story, wouldn't it?
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~CONGRATULATIONS~
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sugoi-writes · 1 year ago
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KNY HCs - A Surprise Kiss! Part 2
Prompt: You give them a kiss unexpectedly; how do they react, when they like you back?
A/N- Next part is here!!! Sorry i struggled to get this part out. This part includes Genya, Nezuko, Obanai, Mitsuri, Gyomei, Tengen, and Muichiro. Let me know if you guys would be interested in a part featuring demons (especially Upper Moons and whatnot). Anyways, this was really fun! Please enjoy! 💗💗💗
Content warning: some implied steaminess for some of the Hashira, and spoilers for the newest season (Sword Village). Proceed with caution if you haven't watched/read ahead! 💀💗💀
Genya
He has a hard time around people who are typically femme, but it literally wouldn't matter who or what you were: because you're still his type.
The second you get within 5 ft, he's blushing. The second you touch, his veins are gonna burst in his skull. The second that touch becomes a kiss...
Genya.exe has stopped working.
He is absolutely stunned into silence. He makes no move to continue the kiss or move away. But you seem to be able to tell that he didn't mind it. Not ONE bit.
You would take his hand, apologize for being too forward, and probably make yourself scarce around him. You figure this would be best if you really did overwhelm him.
It would take quite a few days, but similar to Sanemi, he confronts you head on. Whether it's grabbing you by your haori, or slamming his arms on either side of your head... Hes got you trapped. Even though his face is still BEET red...
"I-I don't understand yet... wh-why you'd do that to a guy like me... but..." He would hesitate for a moment, before planting a kiss on your cheek.
" But... I'll try... to become a guy worthy of your kiss."
Even if you try and reassure him, or persuade him into thinking he's a million bucks, he will go over the moon to impress you, protect you, etc. He wants to be better than what you want him to be: he wants to be your equal.
And while it certainly takes him a while to loosen up, his kisses are some of the sweetest and most sincere. He would try to hold your face, every time. He would never truly want to let you go of you and your warm cheeks.
Nezuko
"Hmmm...~ Hmm-hmmm-- mmm?"
Nezuko, who is humming and fixing her hair, is surprised when you kiss her. She'd blink a few times, her cheeks glistening with a rosy blush. She still struggles with most words, but smiles warmly to you.
"Th...tha...! Thank... you... Y/...N-san!"
You practically scream with delight. This would be the first time you heard her say your name!!!
Like many humans, Nezuko is very protective of you. But you find that she hovers around you a little more recentky, similar to how she treats Tanjiro. Almost as if you're a guide, interpreter, or just a person she can confide in, she'll often reach out to be near you. Whether it's holding your pinky with hers, tugging on your haori, or even grabbing your hand, she likes to stay in close proximity, especially if she can make physical connection with you somehow.
She sometimes struggles (mentally) with being close to you, especially in fear that her fangs may injure you, but her kisses are short and sincere. Similar to Shinobu, she would kiss you most anywhere but your lips publically... but every once in a while, you're blessed with direct kisses.
"T...thank goodness... Y-You like me too... Y/N-san...!
Obanai
Eyes narrowed with steely focus, he would be absorbed in his work, or freshly sheathing his sword. You roughly grasp him by the collar, forcing him to finally look your way.
"What is it you're doi--mmphm?!"
When do you finally get him to shut up? ONLY when you're kissing him. Even with a kiss over his bandages, Obanai flushes vividly, pushing you away. He turns away, checking his bandages hastily.
"NEVER surprise me like that!! You're lucky I didn't have a chance to react properly...!" You were about to apologize, when you see his shoulders relax," hah.... the bandages didn't move, after all..." The relief that floods his voice almost makes you want to cry. You were trying not to pity him, knowing he had his reasons to hide his face. But you wish he didn't feel the desire to keep those bandages on... or better yet, the shame he felt when they came off.
You place a hand on his shoulder, making him tense up.
"Obanai... next time I kiss you... if you're okay with it, i... I wouldn't mind it if it were without your bandages on."
That statement alone has him wide eyed, staring at you with disbelief," I... I don't..." For once, his stoic expression and tone is replaced with one of unease and uncertainty.
"I... I don't know if I'm ready for... that..." he would admit quietly," But... I appreciate the sentiment. I truly do."
You'd smile up/down to him, and place a kiss on his cheek instead," Whenever you're ready. I could wait a thousand years, if you'd have me..." Obanai squints at you, bluntly replying," We'd both be dead by then..."
You smile, winking," Then in the next life, maybe?"
Obanai would flush quietly as you'd walk away, reaching up to gently press the spot you last kissed him at,"... I see... maybe so, Y/N-san... Maybe so...."
BLESS you, if you ever do kiss him without his bandages on. Though his scars may have surprised you at first, it doesn't affect how sweet or chaste his kisses are. And once you receive them in earnest, they never stop... 
Oh, and the over protectiveness with you? Multiply it by 20. People aren't allowed to breathe the same air you do unless he allows it. And your missions, from henceforth, are either accompanied with or monitored by himself or Mitsuri. Almost NO exceptions.
Mitsuri
"Y/N! Y/N! Look here, look here!!" Surely, Kanroji has something absolutely adorable to show you. You turn to her quickly, pushing your hair back out of your face.
"What is it, Kanroj--"
The both of you turned too quickly, causing your lips to meet in the middle. Immediately, the two of you pull away from the other. Mitsuri whines, bowing her head rapidly.
"Sorry, sorry, I'm sorry!!! I-I didn't mean to!!"
You have to grasp Mitsuri by her shoulders, before she listens to you again," Kanroji-san!!! It's okay, I promise!!! W-We're friends, after all... accidents happen."
Mitsuri's expression changes slightly, her lip quivering," R-Right... friends..."
You go back to your task at hand, not picking up on her disheartened cue. You notice her squirming beside you after a few moments, making you concerned.
"Mitsuri? Are you ok--"
Your lips meet again. This time... on purpose. Mitsuri clasps your cheeks with both hands, planting a fat kiss on your lips, before pulling away.
"Th-There!!! That one wasn't an accident!!! And that's going to be the first of many... I-- I--! Aaaahh, I don't want to just be friends, Y/Nnnnnn!!! Not anymore!!!" Mitsuri basically wails, making you smile sweetly.
You lean over again to kiss her, soothing her mild tantrum if only for a moment," I dont think I want to be 'just friends' either, Mitsuri... so we're partners now. Okay?"
Mitsuri would nod rapidly, mentally swearing herself to you, for protection and for marriage," Deal!!!!"
She's already planning your wedding. She hints at what kind of ceremony she prefers, or flowers she'd like to have in her decore... little does she know, you've already been saving up for something big... maybe her birthday could double as your wedding day?
But for now, that's wishful thinking. For now, you're quite alright with sneaking quick, heated kisses before major missions, and cuddling your tired, full partner after she gorges on her favorite food.
Neither of you mind. But the both of you know that you're actively working towards a future where there's more to your relationship than sweet kisses and embraces.
Gyomei
In a deep, meditative state, Gyomei sat practically motionless as you quietly approached him. Due to this, he hadn't heard you or your sweet giggles are you inched closer. You had always been his number one, secret admirer... and seeing him so content and serene made you want to kiss him. He just looked so beautiful, dangit!
Even with him sat before you, Gyomei was MUCH larger than you... but no matter!
Nimbly, you were able to wiggle closer, admiring the calm breathing of the Stone Pillar. It wasn't until you brushed your lips against his that his eyes instinctively fluttered open. As if from a deep slumber, Gyomei blinks a few times, dazed," Oh... I'm sorry, is this... Y/N?"
You nod and hum, knowing he knew your voice all too well," Guilty as charged~" Gyomei's eyes watered as he heard a genuine, airy laugh leave you, his hands folding neatly into his lap.
"Ahh... so the pining wasn't one sided, after all...," Gyomei sighs, as if relieved. You blink and audibly swallow, your face heating up.
"I-I guess not, Gyomei-san," you reply in surprise, reaching your hand down to brush a stray tear from his cheek. Had you known he had liked you back, you would have kissed him MUCH sooner...
Gyomei smiles brilliantly, tilting his head up as if to look at you,"... if that is the case, my friend... if you don't mind, I'd like you to join me by my side."
You have to calm yourself down as he pats the space beside him. You take him up his request, sitting and scooting closer until your knee bumped his. You feel a large, warm arm wrap around you, pulling you closer until your head was against his chest. Your face burned as Gyomei chuckled.
"...thank you for taking the initiative, Y/N-san. I admire your forwardness. I just wish I could have made that first kiss more..."
"Special?" You finished, Gyomei nodding back quietly.
"W-Well, that's okay-- I already feel like kissing you, on its own, is very special. But..." You sit up, before crawling into his lap. Gyomei would tense up, flushing as a coy grin makes it way to your face.
"I think we can make the next kiss particularly special... if you'll have me."
Gyomei couldnt reply verbally, as the impulse to kiss you tenderly overshadowed the flowery words and praise he wanted to give you.
His kisses were many, and they would be mostly reserved for your cheeks and temples. But most of all, your kisses would be an assured way to make his heart race. Due to his blindness, kisses feel electrifying to him. Making your kisses together all the more special and intimate for him. He loves you to bits, and would never pass up on a chance to engage with you, especially through touches and those sweet, featherlight kisses. Even if others may be close by...~
Tengen
Little to anyone's surprise, Tengen is a HUGE flirt. It didn't matter if it was a stranger or his bestie Rengoku: he would relentlessly do and say things that would tetter on raunchy or sappy. This, however, was something you were used to. And at times, you'd welcome it.
Tengen, many times, had made jokes about you becoming his fourth spouse. Quote him: "Afterall, who said polygamy had a 4 person limit~?"
You'd normally roll your eyes, and playfully shove him, not knowing what his other spouses thought of you. But after getting to know him more, and even being over to his estate a few times, the jokes felt more... sincere. As if he were wanting to propose more properly.
So finally, after a particularly rough Hashira meeting, Tengen would look at you again, with a serene look in his eyes," ...Y'know, Y/N... if you ever considered settling down more properly, or commitment in general... I think you'd make a really good spouse. The others think so, too." He would grin, nudging you playfully," Theres always room for one more, yknow~ "
And, after a few quiet moments, you hadn't yet replied. No shoving, no tickling, just... a heavy sigh. Tengen starts to worry he offended you... until you pull him down/up for a kiss.
Tengen, being the good man he is, immediately leans into it, eyes closing on their own. When you finally decide to part for air, you're absolutely beaming.
"Well, while I can't accept your 'proposal' without the others consent... I wouldn't mind being courted. Normally, yknow..." Tengen looks practically speechless, as your arms snake around to hang on his neck.
" How about we start slow... maybe dinner at your place, next time we meet? Im sure the 5 of us have a lot to talk about before we take it too far..."
Tengen, surprised that his forwardness may have actually paid off, smiles tenderly. He pulls away from you, only to take one of your hands. He guides it to his lips and kisses you knuckles, running his thumb in circles along your warm skin.
"Suma, Hina, Makio, and I... we'd be honored, Y/N. Let's shoot for next weekend, then."
Muichiro
"Huh...? What did you want to see me about, again?" Mui would probe, following behind you.
"I-I just wanted to go somewhere more private, to tell you something." You'd reply evenly, a steady blush spreading across your face.
"Is that so... lead the way then, Y... ahh, sorry, Y/N-san." You roll your eyes. Surely he hadn't forgotten your name so easily. Maybe he was teasing you?
As you finally get to a more private area, you turn towards him, face heated," Muichiro... I have to say it."
The mist hashira would look to you, eyes widening," Ahh... did I forget something again...? Sorry... I still struggle... even now, i guess," he would admit, making your knitted brows soften.
"N-No... you didn't forget anything... but..." You lean forward, trying to kiss him on the cheek, before he recoils quickly. You blink in surprise, face twisting in regret. Oh shit... so you were rejected huh... You can't muster any words as he looks at you, bewildered.
"...were you trying to kiss me?"
You were flustered, assuming your hunch was correct, but you nod shamefully. Then, Muichiro pulls you in by your wrist, placing a soft kiss to your lips. You gasp, taken by surprise even as Muichiro lets you go.
"...sorry... I feel like I would be able to treasure your kiss better... if I initiated it. I hope that's alright with you."
The both of you are perfectly flush now, but you smile warmly back to him, pulling him in for a hug," Well, if you ever forget... I can always kiss you again?" Muichiro would have an idea, leaning his head on your shoulder," Mmm... I think I'm in need of a reminder."
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jymwahuwu · 1 year ago
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Hello! Me again unexpectedly! Can I request a yandere Jing Yuan x reader family/smut! (Jing Yuan x reader are romantic/ Yanqing x reader are platonic like a mother-son relationship)
It goes like this, Jing Yuan came back from his mission with an surprise for his darling reader who’s his Lieutenant. That surprise was an baby Yanqing, and Jing Yuan wanted his darling to help him raise the cute cinnamon roll as their own.
It was also planned while he was on his mission and coming across baby Yanqing, which is having his darling be his prefect housewife and mother to their children. As Yanqing grows, Jing Yuan praises being an excellent wife and mother, besides his darling asking about her work.
Then 4 years old Yanqing, ask for a sibling which caught the reader off guard and Jing Yuan thinking it’s time to move to the next plan. After putting Yanqing to sleep, Jing Yuan decided to put the second phase of his plan in action, as he walked to his darling room with a jasmine tea that he spited with aphrodisiac.
Jing Yuan started a conversation with his darling, asking her what her thoughts on Yanqing request of a sibling, while watching her drink the tea. His darling states that request was unexpected and that they’re not married to do something like that, also the fact that she needs to get back to work after being away for so long.
Jing Yuan told her that he got that cover and that she doesn’t have to worry about work anymore. His darling asked him what he meant by that, but start to feel uncomfortable hot. Jing Yuan grinned at her as he walked over to her to start to be intimate. Then 6 months later, Yanqing was talking to his mother who’s 6 months pregnant and the baby in her belly, while Jing Yuan watch with a grin.
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yandere! jing yuan x female! reader
TW: yandere, non-con, pregnancy, aphrodisiacs, housewife kink, manipulation, abuse of power, sexism
Jing Yuan and his housewife plan (๑´ㅂ`๑)… willing to be the mama of the babies plz
As a lieutenant, you work under the general's command. You swore allegiance to General Jing Yuan and the Xianzhou Alliance - even though your job wasn't what you expected it to be, and the combat skills you trained were useless. You brew tea, clean up, and organize files in the Seat of Divine Foresight. You even have to prepare the general's meals, cook in the kitchen, wash and dry his clothes. You are a little frustrated. Jing Yuan allows you to express your opinion in the meeting, but always vetoes it with a smile. He tends to agree with Qingzu and Fu Xuan's plan, and praises these girls for being resourceful. Unfair…unfair…you complained in front of him, but the general just dissected the holes in your proposal and expressed his disappointment with you. He's told you that you don't do very well at work, but you'd be perfect as a housewife. You are taken aback by his proposal. You never thought about being a housewife or anything, but he's really attractive…has a soft spot for you…so you…believe. You are married to him.
One day, Jing Yuan returned from a war to the Seat of Divine Foresight with a baby in his arms. You ask about his little baby's parentage. Jing Yuan shook his head gently, and handed over this baby to you, needing your help to take care of this little cinnamon roll. It was all so unexpected. You hold him in an unskilled position. To your relief, the crying baby gradually calmed down in your arms, and stretched out chubby little hands to you, blowing out small bubbles. You want to say no, but your heart melts with this baby. It will break your heart if no one is willing to take care of him. So you quit your job and concentrate on taking care of Yanqing.
Baby Yanqing walking for the first time, running, calling you mama and Jing Yuan papa are all such precious moments. He often wields a small toy sword and plays with the general in the courtyard. He even pouts and asks you for siblings because the other kids have them. The siblings of Xianzhou people will accompany them for many hundreds of years, which is a deeper destiny and life than blood. You're caught off guard by the request because as your baby grows, you're thinking it's time to go back to work.
That night, Jing Yuan read stories to baby Yanqing and put him to bed with a plush toy sword. He added some aphrodisiac to the jasmine tea and walked up to the room and handed it to you. This has been a habit for months. You sip your tea while listening to your husband talk about family planning. You firmly turned him down, wanting to go back to work instead of being a housewife, and since you're not suited to work at the Seat of Divine Foresight, maybe you could apply to work in another departments of the Cloud Knights?
Jing Yuan tells you that you don't need to worry about work anymore. You feel confused as your cheeks heat up, the pain and swelling between your thighs need attention, and you still don't understand what he means. The tall white-haired husband just walks behind your back with a mysterious smile and starts rubbing your tits. He lifts your dress up to reveal your bra. He blows a warm breath in your ear and rubs your little pearl through the panties. His thrusts go deep down, leaving his seed in the opening of your cervix even as you tearfully beg him to stop and use contraception.
A few months later, you are wearing a baggy skirt and sitting in the courtyard. After training, Yanqing trots to your side and tries to chat with the baby. Jing Yuan watched all this with satisfaction.
He knows where to buy those ovulation inducers and which days are your ovulation days.
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scarltzwitch · 3 months ago
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CROSSING WORLDS, MEETING HEARTS — LOGAN HOWLETT.
❥ Summary: On what seemed like an ordinary night, Logan Howlett and Elena Stark meet by chance in a bar. After Logan steps in to protect Elena from a stranger, an unexpected connection forms between them. As they start seeing each other more often, their relationship catches the attention of the Avengers, who are surprised to learn that Logan is not only from another universe but also has extraordinary abilities and has won the heart of Tony Stark's daughter.
❥ Genre: Logan Howlett x Elena Stark ( Fem!OC )
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The bar was full of life on a Saturday night, with laughter and the sound of clinking glasses filling the air. Logan was in a corner, his gaze fixed on the drink in front of him when everything changed. It wasn't the first time Wade had convinced him to go out with his group of friends to places like this, but this time, fate had something in store for him.
Elena was a beautiful young woman, of medium height, with her chestnut hair cascading down her back. Her oval face, delicate jawline, and defined cheekbones were on display. The young Stark was looking for a breather with her friends and her father after a day full of chaos. The world had been hard to recover after Thanos' attack, but it wasn’t impossible, and the Avengers deserved a great rest after saving the Planet and the Universe. Wade Wilson and his group of friends also needed a break after their exhausting battle against Cassandra.
After a few drinks, the Avengers, along with Tony and Pepper—Elena’s mother and now Tony's wife, also known as Morgan's mother, who was Elena’s younger sister—had decided to retire to their respective rooms, leaving the brunette alone, as she had decided to stay a little longer. She loved the place her father had chosen.
Half an hour later, the young Stark decided it was time to go home. She got up from her seat to head to the counter and pay, but unexpectedly, a man approached her with the intention of bothering her and ruining her evening. After trying to make the guy leave, Elena felt cornered. She had drunk a bit too much, but she was still aware of what was happening. Logan, without hesitation, decided to intervene and with his characteristic growl, managed to pull the young woman away from the man who was harassing her.
“She said to back off,” Logan warned as he grabbed the man by the neck, but that didn’t stop him from throwing a punch at the guy's face, scaring him off.
Elena, moved by the situation, clutched her purse tightly and looked at the man who had helped her. She decided to make the first move. “Thank you, you didn’t have to do that, but thank you,” she said with a slight smile, admiring the man who had come to her rescue. He was quite attractive, almost too good to be true. Logan merely nodded in response. After that silent exchange, Logan started to leave, but Elena stopped him.
“Would you like to stay a little longer?” Elena asked with a sincere smile. “I don’t usually invite strangers, but you just saved me from a pretty uncomfortable situation, and I feel like I owe you. So, what do you say?” she asked hopefully. Logan looked at her for a moment, as if weighing whether he should accept the offer. He usually didn’t get involved with others, especially someone much younger than him and from a world so different from his own. They returned to the bar, where Elena ordered some beers and a few snacks to accompany them. The atmosphere of the place was still lively, but now, with the company of the man who had saved her, everything seemed much calmer for her. They sat together at a table, and while they drank what the young woman had ordered, Elena couldn’t help but study him discreetly. He seemed tough, with an imposing presence, but there was a softness in his eyes that intrigued her.
“So... Do you come to places like this often?” Elena asked, trying to start a conversation. Logan took a sip of his beer while watching Elena, noticing the interest in her eyes. “Not much,” he replied in his characteristic gruff tone. “Only when Wade convinces me to go out.”
Elena smiled, surprised by the simplicity of his answer. “Wade? The weird guy I saw you come in with earlier?”
Logan shrugged. “Just needed a change of scenery. What about you? What made you stay after your family left?” Elena took a sip of her drink before answering. “I love this place. My father used to bring me here, and it brings back good memories. After everything we’ve been through, I needed a moment of peace.”
They shared a comfortable silence, interrupted only by the noise of the bar. Elena noticed how Logan’s hardened expression softened slightly. “Thanks again for stepping in,” Elena finally said. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t been there.” Logan looked up and, for the first time that night, gave a faint smile. “It’s nothing. I’m glad I could help.”
Elena leaned forward a bit, showing genuine interest. “Would you like to tell me more about yourself? I have a feeling you have some interesting stories to tell.” Logan looked at her, considering whether he should open up a bit more. The sincerity in her eyes and the warmth of her smile made him feel more at ease. “Maybe. Though I won’t make a habit of it.” Elena smiled broadly, accepting the challenge. “That’s fine. Sometimes, it’s nice to have an unexpected conversation with someone new.”
As Logan and Elena started to see each other more often, it wasn’t long before the news reached Tony. Although Elena tried to keep their relationship discreet, her father always had a way of finding things out, and soon, the word that she was dating someone began to circulate among the Avengers.
One day, while the group was gathered in Stark Tower, Tony, with his characteristic flair, casually mentioned, “So, it seems Elena has a new friend... a certain Logan Howlett.” The mention of the name caught everyone’s attention in the room. Natasha raised an eyebrow, Steve stopped reviewing his reports, and Thor, with his hammer in hand, let out a hearty laugh: “And who is this bold man who dares to court Stark’s daughter?”
Tony, with a mischievous smile, responded, “That’s the interesting part. Apparently, he’s not from our universe according to her. And... he has metal claws. He’s some sort of mutant, I think, like Wanda and Pietro.”
The room fell silent. Wanda was the first to speak, her tone one of genuine surprise: “Metal claws? You mean like a mutant?” Tony nodded, and before they could delve further into the matter, Wade Wilson, who had apparently been eavesdropping on the conversation from the hallway, burst into the room with a mischievous grin. “Oh, this is going to be fun! I’ve been waiting for this moment since I found out.”
Before anyone could comment further, the young Stark walked in with Logan, who was hooked to her, his arm linked with hers as the rest of her friends followed. “Sorry, sorry. He can be a bit... odd,” Elena apologized with a smile. Wanda didn’t hesitate to be the first to hug her, but the rest of the room’s attention turned to the man accompanying her, surprised.
“Excuse me? Who are you, and what are you doing with my daughter?” Tony asked, surprised, with a glass of whiskey in his right hand and his other arm around Pepper.
“Tony, honey. Let him introduce himself, please? You’re Logan, right?” Pepper asked with a slight smile, trying to lighten the tension. Elena murmured a thank you in gratitude, to which the blonde nodded.
Logan nodded without saying much, standing firm. Thor was the first to break the tension by approaching them and giving the mutant a friendly slap on the back. “So... I’ve heard you’re a warrior from another world with much more experience. It seems I have competition—and with claws, I hear. Strange, but interesting. I think you and I will get along well.” Logan barely reacted, but Elena noticed how his lips curved slightly upward.
Steve, for his part, crossed his arms and looked at Logan with a mixture of respect and curiosity. “So, you’re a veteran? Not many can say that in this room.”
Feeling a bit nervous, Elena stepped forward, holding Logan’s hand. “He’s different, but I think he’ll fit in well with us. And well, he’s... important to me.”
Before anyone could respond, Wade interjected with his usual humor: “Of course he’ll fit in! Plus, it was about time this team had someone with a bit more claw—and, by the way, a delightful loudmouth mercenary like me!” Everyone, even Logan, couldn’t help but laugh at the comment.
With the tension now eased, the Avengers, along with Elena and Logan’s group, sat down to chat and get to know each other better, sharing stories and jokes. The initial surprise quickly faded, and while they knew Logan wasn’t what they expected for Elena, they also recognized that he was someone they could trust, especially if he shared a close relationship with Tony’s daughter.
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@welcometochilis585
Hi! I'm so sorry for the delay, but I wanted to do my best with this one-shot. It's a way for me to practice with writing, thank you so much for trusting me with your idea. I loved it. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
— Lily. 💜
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strawberrystepmom · 5 months ago
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sanemi x f!reader. isekai au. lots of pining, emotional exploration, struggles of being isekai'ed. | divider thanks to @cafekitsune, wc 2.2k
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Stranger in a strange land adopts a new meaning when you’re quite literally dropped into a world beyond your comprehension. Tonight, though, you are grateful for the infinite blanket of stars above your head. No light pollution, no city noise to interrupt the serenity of a moonlit night.
A breeze tickles your nose and you scrunch it in response, reminded of the reason you stepped outside in the first place. 
A futile attempt to outrun your thoughts of Sanemi. 
The wind always makes you think of him, something that would surprise no one if you were to be sincere with them about it. You sigh, kicking your legs out in front of you while they dangle off of the edge of your porch. You’re currently sharing a living space with the other single women who tend to the Ubuyashiki household, mostly maids who have taught you the best ways to stay cool in the oppressive summer heat and how to dab blood stains from the sleeves of your robes. Thankfully, they’re all tucked in their beds. There will be no witnesses to your self inflicted angst tonight.
Your friends have all moved along with their lives since being transported to this era, finding happiness and futures. More often than not, you feel like the odd man out, the only one still remaining poorly adjusted to a world that has welcomed you with open arms. The Hashira and Ubuyashiki family have been wonderful and gracious hosts. You’d even dare say that you’ve become friends with most of the people you have met since arriving no matter the cultural and linguistic differences of being a modern woman transported unexpectedly to 19th century Japan.
The outlier for you is a man. No matter where you are in history, what rabbit hole you’ve stumbled down, this will always be your issue. Your emotions feel heavier when you’re forced to lay down with them in the quiet dark of your room so you’ve decided to work them out within yourself outside and blissfully alone.
You wonder what he’s doing tonight, silently judging yourself for not sticking to your own commitment to being alone in body and mind.
One of the maids, Ritsu, teased you about him being off on a mission while you shot her a lok out of the corner of your eye before heading off to bed earlier. It’s unlikely that he will return here even if the mission has already been completed. It’s miles away from his estate, out of the way and impractical. 
It would probably be a stretch to call any Shinazugawa particularly practical. You know his brother very well, his relationship with one of your friends has been something you’ve taken great pride in being able to watch and support. They adore one another. They’re safe and peaceful and happy and Genya smiles so often you wonder if his cheeks ever ache.
His brother on the other hand. Harder to read. Even harder to shake. He doesn’t glower in your direction anymore, not now. Unfortunately this means you are now always searching for deeper meaning in every glance he tosses your way. Was that a glimmer of something softer? One of those God forsaken rabbit holes you’d like to travel down to meet him beneath the surface and understand him better?
It’s hard to imagine a world where you’ll ever know. You gently push the heels of your palms against your eyes, exhaling loudly through your mouth. If this were your time you’d simply go out. Shake your ass. Scroll your phone. Do anything to distract you from the fear of falling in love with someone you doubt can ever possibly care as much about you in return.
“What are you doing out here?”
Assuming you’ve imagined his voice in your misguided lovesickness, you keep your hands pressed to your eyes and giggle, giving yourself a piteous little head shake. So delusional. You don’t hear footsteps or movement at all, just the same little breeze that tinkles the ornate wind chime above your head. 
“Well?”
The wooden slats of the porch creak and whine slightly, finally encouraging you to drop your hands and look around you, only to be met with Sanemi sinking down to sit beside you, legs dangling in the same way yours are. A surprised smile crosses your face. He fights a twitch of his own lips, resting his elbows on his thighs and leaning forward to create an illusion of some kind of distance between the two of you. 
“The better question is what are you doing here? Weren’t you off on a mission?”
He chuckles. It fills you with warmth even though you wrap your arms around yourself, gently rubbing your hands along your forearms. 
“Keepin’ track of me?” 
You scoff playfully, looking toward your lap to hide a smile but deciding last minute to just let him see it. To show him how happy he makes you by just being himself. Crass and rough and, in his own words, hard. You like him just the way he is, especially when the wind ruffles his messy hair and the moonlight illuminates his silhouette.
“Me?” You raise your eyebrows and point to yourself, still smiling at him, cheeks warm. “You wish. Word just travels fast when you hang out with the local gossips.”
You tilt your head backward, nodding toward the home you share with a dozen other women. They are not merely information peddlers although, admittedly, the thirteen of you have had more than one session of giggling and tittering over the happenings in the Hashira and Demon Slayer Corps as a whole. Dreamily wishing to find someone who loves each of you as much as Tanjiro loves the partner he has found in the second of your friends who was transported here alongside you. Theorizing about weddings and babies and spring breezes and the winter snows yet to come. 
There is some gentle ribbing about the shine you’ve taken to the Wind Hashira and the way you literally light up when he approaches you but you are good at playing it off as nothing, tossing away the talk with an easy smile while insisting that this is just how you are. The teasing happens often enough that you wonder if they know about his late night visits; if they’ve overheard despite the pains you’ve taken to keep your enjoyment of his company quiet and your encouragement of him to do the same. 
Did Ritsu mention him tonight knowing he’d eventually show up, leaving in a flash before you can even come down from the high of experiencing the things his body does for you?
“I wrapped things up early and figured I’d stop by before heading home.” Sanemi’s posture straightens out when he sits up to look at you fully, face turned. Wisteria colored eyes pour over your face, the fullness of your lips and your undone hair. “Wanted to see ya.” You wear a yukata that you purchased during a trip into the city with him a few months ago, loosely tied with one shoulder hanging lower than the other. His eyes land on your exposed collarbone and travel up the side of your neck, lingering on your lips while he scoots an inch closer.
“I might have missed you.” He mutters so quietly you know that it’s meant just for you and the heat in your cheeks makes its way down your neck, your chest and throat warming in response to the innuendo and weight of his gaze. 
Scrunching your nose again, you look away from him and shift where you sit, the sleeve of your yukata working further down your upper arm while keeping you barely covered. “You shouldn’t say things like that if you don’t mean them considering how often you complain about others doing it.” 
It’s easier for you to pretend he’s playing a game then it is to indulge that there may be truth to his words. He chuckles again from beside you, the tone as warm as the first time this evening despite your slippery attempts to pare down his words into tricky half lies.
“What makes you think I’m just saying it? When have I ever said shit to you senselessly?”
Answering a question with another question. The two of you probably know each other too well by this point if this keeps happening. You don’t have to answer one if you create another. Then another. You don’t ever have to take off the mask, another one perpetually beneath it even when your brows are knit together in pleasure and you softly mumble his name against his neck while he’s inside of you.
You have a feeling it’s sort of the same way for him even if he insists he hates pretense. For a quiet moment, you ponder exactly how to respond to him. You can’t outright say he isn’t being honest with no proof but you can play it off.
“You’ve said a lot of shit to me, Sanemi.” you joke. He tosses you a glance from the corner of his eye, not quite annoyed but enough that you understand that the poking isn’t going to work tonight. 
He slides his hand across the porch to gently grab yours, scarred thumb running along the length of each of your fingers as though he’s counting them, ensuring they’re still in place and precious. There’s no doubt he’s rough around the edges, amongst other things, but he values you enough to stop by after a mission to check on you. To talk to you. To not just fall into your bed like he did the first time, adrenaline pumping and still smeared with streaks of blood across his forearms and neck.
You received a few glances for the state of your futon after that one yet you managed to explain it away like you do everything else. It was an accident! You cut yourself while sharpening the small dagger you keep in your room! You started your period! Always explaining away instead of embracing conveniently placed truths in your lap. Sanemi Shinazugawa’s home with you isn’t solely made in your bed. It’s why the fear he will never feel the same terrifies you enough it keeps you up at night counting stars like petals on daisies and asking them if he loves you or loves you not.
“Why is it so hard for you to believe that I like being around you?”
An honest question draws you out of your own mind. You feel one of your masks drop and don’t rush to replace it with another, simply shrugging. His hand slides up your arm to adjust your robe enough to keep you decent, a crooked finger pulling airy cotton over your upper arm and upper breast. Sanemi’s eyes remain locked on your face, his hands familiar enough with your body that he can adjust you without looking.
“I don’t know. I guess I’m afraid that if I let you stay you may not like what you find and will eventually leave.” He raises his brows, fighting off a smile. Perhaps you aren’t the only one letting a mask or two fall tonight. “I’ve been in you and sure fucking liked it,” he jokes and you giggle, gently patting the outside of his thigh. 
Things could be like this always, you consider. The two of you joking beneath the moon who laughs along with you, his hands on your body. Waking up next to him instead of ushering him out of the door as soon as your legs stop shaking for fear of being tied to him in people’s minds.
What if you just let it happen naturally instead of standing in your own way? 
Without taking the time to consider your movement, you lean toward him and gently kiss the exposed skin of his chest, above the scars that crisscross his torso. He wraps one arm around your hips and pulls you closer to him, bodies touching as close as they can without it being obscene.
“Do you wanna come in?” You ask him, lips halfway pressed against his chest.  He glances down at you and nods once, that same glimmer of fondness you have previously thought you imagined reflecting back at you when you meet his eyes. 
“Will you stay tonight?”
Sanemi’s face further softens and he nods again, not bothering to hide his smile this time. 
He lifts the sleeve of your robe over your shoulder, covering you entirely, and holds your hand as you stand up. Rising above him and planting your feet to help him up, the pair of you walk quietly into your adjoining room, careful not to alert anyone who may be looking on. You slide the door shut behind you, the wood gently snapping against the frame that cradles it, and pretend you don’t hear a giggle from the other side of the wall that indicates to you that one of your friends in the house knows what’s going on in your room.
But you’ll worry about that tomorrow. You reach to untie the knot at the waist of your robe while Sanemi closes in on you, cupping your chin and neck between scarred palms and kissing you with enough force you’re helpless to do a thing but kiss back.
Not that you’d want to do anything else.
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moondustmonster · 2 months ago
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Teshai the Naga (Cismale!naga x gn!reader)
WARNINGS!!!! This fic contains dark themes of abuse, being attacked, implied attempted r!pe, blood, and the attacking of others. If you are sensitive to any of these themes, please skip this work.
Summary: After a painful breakup, you seek refuge in a remote cabin in the woods, hoping to heal. As you settle in, strange occurrences make you feel watched, leading to the discovery of Teshai, a reclusive naga who has been observing you from afar. Though wary at first, you gradually warm to his presence as he begins leaving gifts and showing signs of courtship. Just as you decide to accept his affection, your manipulative ex unexpectedly returns, forcing you to confront your past and realize the depth of Teshai's protective love.
Moving to this small cabin in the woods was supposed to be a fresh start, a chance to heal from the emotional wounds left by your ex-boyfriend. His sudden abandonment of you had chipped away at your self-esteem. Leaving you anxious and weary, his parting words still circled your brain even though he was long gone. Spring was in full bloom though, and the idea of the tranquil woods filled you with hope for peace and solitude. That maybe, just maybe, things would be okay.
The first few weeks were uneventful, yet a creeping feeling of being watched nagged at you. You brushed it off as residual paranoia, remnants of the toxic relationship and a few too many horror movies with eerily similar setups. But as time went on, the signs became undeniable. Shadows moved just beyond your vision, small objects in your garden were often misplaced, and you even found traces of something large moving through the underbrush around your cabin when you went on your daily hikes.
One evening, as you were planting herbs in your garden near the forest's edge, you felt the presence again. Thinking quickly you grabbed the trowel lying by your side and carefully manoeuvred it so that you could see behind you, hopefully without looking inconspicuous, and gasped. There, emerging from the shadows, was a large naga. His long black hair framed a face with striking mocha skin, and his lower body was that of a brown snake, coiling and uncoiling with a grace that belied his size.
Fear rippled through your body as you watched him silently make his way among the branches overhanging the little area you were in, before he found a spot to settle into comfortably, resting his upper body upon a thick branch and crossing his arms beneath his head. Large black eyes never waver from your form as you continued to pretend that you hadn't noticed his presence.
You had met a couple of other nagas before, each one with startling different personalities and so on the whole you didn't really think anything particularly bad of the race, but this was a stranger. A stranger who had been watching you for several weeks now and had not once attempted to make his presence known other than the few signs you had been, admittingly, lucky to catch.
What did he want?
You continued to watch him watching you quietly from the shadowed treeline, tail wrapping around the branch he was resting on. His eyes never left your figure as you made your way down the line of seedlings needing to be planted, forcing yourself to continue on as if nothing was wrong. The naga had been watching you for almost a month now, studying you from afar and likely taking note of your patterns. He'd been quite careful to keep himself hidden, but the signs left behind hadn't gone unnoticed on your end luckily.
And yet, your mind countered, if he wanted to harm you, wouldn't he have done so already?
In the month that you had been here the only time you had had company over was when the movers had dropped off your things. Even your mail was delivered at the bottom of a long driveway that ran through the woods to your little home. Other than that, you and this stranger were the only ones to grace this area of land with your presence.
Your realtor had mentioned that you had a neighbour, your brain suddenly recalled, and that he lived a few acres away from your own home. Was he this mysterious neighbour, simply curious about who the new person was and deciding whether or not you were worth speaking to? Perhaps he was shy and simply building up courage and learning things to be able to talk about with you. Landing on the more social anxiety side of the introverted spectrum meant that you could understand not knowing what to talk about with strangers and so usually avoided them.
But, you thought as you stabbed viciously into the ground at a particularly hard spot with a huff. If it was true, it did not give him the right to spy on you for almost a month and scare the absolute hell out of you in the process. After planting the last seedling and giving them all a thorough drowning of water from your can you packed up all of your gardening gear and moved to go back into your home. Placing the gardening supplies on the porch, you glanced up to your window and noticed that he had also moved with you, curling and coiling along the branches until he had a better view of inside your home.
And wasn't that a terrifying thought?
Summoning your courage, you decided it was time to confront him, danger and consequences be damned. You turned fully to face him, trowel held firmly in your hand and held it out at arm's length as threateningly as you could. "I know you're there," you called out, your voice trembling slightly. "Who are you and why are you watching me?"
Even from this distance, you could see the naga blink slowly, seeming momentarily surprised. Then, with a smooth, fluid motion, he slid down from the branch and approached you cautiously. "I apologize," he said, his voice deep and soothing. "I didn't mean to scare you. My name is Teshai. I was curious about the new human living in these woods. It's been years since anyone has come here."
You felt a mix of relief and lingering wariness. "You could have just introduced yourself, you know," you huffed, trying to keep your voice steady, as you took in his form. The reflection in the trowel hadn't even come close to his real size. He easily towered over you, even with most of his snake-like body laying curled up on the ground and you on heightened porch, and now that he was closer you could see the gentle ombre shading that left his human belly and scutes a soft golden shade that faded out into a lovely dark shade of brown, the darkest of which was along his spine. Being this close to him also meant that you could see his eyes much better, and what you had thought were pure black orbs had a thick line of bright yellow running along the outer portion.
Teshai nodded, his expression abashed. "You're right, I should have. I was just... uncertain...how you would react. Non-humans, nagas and driders especially, do not have the best...reputation in these parts."
Curiosity getting the best of you, you couldn't help but ask what he had meant. You were from a whole other area of the state, one where most species intermingled and got along remarkably well. Though there were of course rumours and stereotypes of each that circulated, no place could escape bigots after all, but not many beings put stock into them.
Teshai let out a bitter laugh, "A few decades back there was a mass disappearance spree, folks, mostly those of more humanoid form, simply disappeared without a trace. They never found who did it nor where the bodies went, though many suspected that we, as in nagas and driders, were kidnapping folks into the woods and eating them," Teshai leaned back so that he was sitting on his own coils, crossing his arms with a roll of his eyes, "It's all a bunch of hogwash of course. Rumours got out of hand because people were scared, and needed someone to blame, and we drew the short end of the stick this time. This house’s occupant," he gestured behind you, "was one of the first to go missing."
Your eyes grew wide at the story, jaw going slightly slack in surprise. Your realtor had most certainly not mentioned a mass disappearance in the village nearby, nor that your house had originally belonged to one of them. They were most definitely getting a mouthful from you in the morning, presuming you survived the night that is.
Teshai chuckled, noticing your surprise and shook his head, seeming to read your thoughts. "You didn't know..." He said, almost as if he were asking you. He leaned forward, resting his chin on the back of his fist. "You must not be from anywhere around here. Such thoughts extend to all of the towns neighbouring these woods. It's why your only three neighbours are two nagas and a drider, and your mailman will never go past the box at the end of the drive. Did you not think to question the cheap price of so much land?"
A flush overtook your face at his words. While it was true that you had thought about why the price was nearly a fifth of what you should have been paying for so much acreage, in what you had thought was prime real estate, you had simply assumed you were lucky that no one had wanted this home in such a long time that they kept dropping the prices. Not to mention that it hadn't been you to do the research or been involved in much of the sale process at all, having been near catatonic after your last breakup. It had been your best friend, Rhianna, a kitsune whom, for a second, you thought was actually going to live up to the stereotypes and eat the heart of your ex-lover when she found out what had happened.
You still weren't fully convinced she hadn't sent you to the other side of the state for the sole reason of killing him without your knowledge, but you did trust her care for you and didn't for one second believe that she would place you in harm's way. This meant it was just as probable that she hadn't known, and would end up giving the realtor a mouthful as well, and potentially taking the first flight out here to drag you back away from danger and force you to live on her temple grounds where she could keep a close eye on you, even though it had been her to argue that you needed to get away from everything in the first place.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing thoughts. "I didn't know," you admitted, feeling a bit foolish. "But I'm here now, and I don't intend to leave. Can we start over?" You extended your hand towards Teshai, trying to bridge the gap between fear and understanding.
Teshai regarded your hand for a moment before a smile touched his lips. "Of course," he said, gently taking your hand in his, bending over while raising it to his lips to give it a gentle kiss. His touch was surprisingly warm, your brain managed to think as it short-circuited. His hand, you managed to notice, was covered in a splattering of scales and his long fingers ended in a set of wicked claws that made you internally gulp. "Welcome to the neighbourhood, even if my introduction was less than ideal..." He trailed off blinking, and suddenly you realized hadn't told him your name.
Internally shaking your head and smiling impishly you gave it to him with a slight flush, trying your best to ignore the stuttering of your heart as you took your hand back. "The pleasure is mine," you managed to reply, "though I would appreciate it if you kept the stalking down to a minimum in the future, please. I don't mind you stopping by, just let me know you're here. Okay?"
He sheepishly grinned at you, a faint splattering of a blush highlighting freckles made from darker scales spread about his face that you hadn't noticed before, "Okay. "
From that moment, an unexpected friendship began to blossom between you and Teshai. He would visit frequently, always bringing gifts—herbs found deep in the woods, shiny crystals, and even meat he hunted down. Each offering was a gesture of goodwill, and over time, you found yourself looking forward to his visits.
Each time he visited, your guard lowered and the fear and tension eased, replaced by a growing comfort in his presence. Teshai was quickly coming to be one of the best friends you had ever known, even if you only counted a single kitsune in that regard. He was charming, considerate, and eager to help when you needed it. His easy charm and warm eyes pulled you in, and soon you found yourself drawn to his stories and infectious laughter, as he lounged in the trees above while you worked on your garden. He'd tell you all sorts of tales from before the mass disappearances, and he'd listen intently when you spoke in return, never rushing you. It was almost alarming how fast you'd come to care for the naga with the golden eyes and soft, soothing voice.
Lately, though, every time you'd see him there was a fluttering in your heart and a permanent flush on your cheeks.
And so you began leaving gifts of your own.
On your rare trips to town, you would pick up items intended entirely for him. Small bottles of oil to help his scales glisten, rolls of sheer fabric that glittered when the sun hit to make hammocks for him to lounge in, cuts of the most pristine meat that you could afford among many others.
The first time you had given him a gift, a set of gold armbands that had reminded you of the colour of his scutes, his dark skin had flushed darker still as he held it reverently before slipping them on. His black claws traced the twisting snake patterns that were engraved, stuttering out thanks before taking your harvest basket from your hands. He still occasionally got distracted by them whenever the sun happened to hit them, shining brightly like they were his own personal mini suns.
As autumn began to roll around, you realized Teshai's gestures were becoming more than friendly. He started producing more personal presents in the form of cooking your meals or taking over chores, and he was also touching you in some form or another now. A hand on your shoulder here, an end of a tail wrapped around your wrist there, curling around you under the sun as you both lazed about, enjoying doing nothing in the summer heat.
The touch wasn't unwelcome, but it was beginning to drive you crazy. You were almost certain that Teshai knew the effect it was having on you and was continuing on purpose. He'd smirk whenever you blushed, seemingly pleased that he was the cause of such a reaction. And there were other signs too - the lingering gazes, the way he'd let his tail wrap around your legs as you sat near each other, the way he seemed to always be touching you now. You were slowly losing your mind.
At first, you were hesitant. The scars from your past relationship were still fresh, and the idea of starting something new, especially with someone so different, was daunting. Teshai's affectionate gestures caught you off guard, igniting a mixture of excitement and nervousness within you. It was one thing to give him gifts, but it was quite another to accept his advances. He made it so hard though; the more he touched you, the more the fluttering in your chest increased, and the more you found yourself leaning into his touch, craving his caress. Every graze of his tail on your skin sent shivers down your spine and every time he brought you food, the desire to lean against him, to feel the warmth of his body against yours, grew stronger. But the more you thought about it, the more the idea grew on you. Teshai was kind, thoughtful, and protective.
On the night you decided to accept his courtship, you set a cosy dinner for two, eagerly awaiting Teshai's appearance. The forest outside your cabin was alive with the sounds of autumn and a gentle breeze wafted through the open window. You felt a flutter of excitement and anticipation as you thought about the evening ahead. However, as you heard a knock on the door, your heart raced for a different reason. Not expecting anyone else, you eagerly opened the door, only to freeze in shock at the appearance of your ex.
He uttered your name in reverence, reaching out to caress your face but you quickly backed out of his reach.
"Wha-what are you doing here," you managed to stutter out.
"I came to see you, babe," he said, crossing the threshold of your home uninvited. His eyes roamed over your body hungrily; he looked at you as if he owned you. He took another step towards you and you felt your heart jump into your throat. "I've missed you."
You couldn't believe what you were seeing. How did he even get here? How did he find you? You stepped back, a cold sweat forming on your neck and your hands grew clammy.
"Missed...me," you repeated slowly. The last encounter with him you had running on repeat. His last words circled your every thought, 'you're not good enough,' 'I deserve more,' 'I've already moved on with someone better,' and so and so forth. The last time you had met he had managed to tear you to shreds, to attack every single insecurity you had before leaving you in your, once-shared apartment.
He had been cruel then, and here he was again with a gleam in his eye that you recognized.
"Mhmm," he drawled, stepping closer again. Your back bumped into the arm of your couch, stopping your retreat as you almost fell over backwards. He was so close now that you could smell his awful cologne, which you had once found appealing. You suppressed a shudder as he reached up, tracing the line of your jaw with his fingers before letting them fall to your arm. He gave you a sly smirk. "I want you back."
Your heart beat like thunder, blood rushing in your ears as your mind tried to understand what was happening. Was this a nightmare? Were you really, hopefully, asleep back in your bed, so nervous about your upcoming date that your brain produced this?
No, you suddenly thought, as his fingers gripped your arms slightly harder than necessary. This was no dream, he was really here and you were trapped between him and your own furniture.
He pressed himself against you, his body flush with yours, and you could feel the weight of him pressing against you.
"Come on, baby," he crooned, his fingers tracing your collarbone now, "didn't you miss me too? I made a mistake, but all can be forgiven, right?" As if he was the one that had gotten his heart trampled on.
You wanted to cry, scream, push him away, anything. But fear immobilized you, and you barely managed to keep in the bile that threatened to rise in your throat. His grip on your arms was too tight now, painful, and the way his eyes raked over you made your skin crawl.
"Why are you being difficult," he asked, his tone turning sharp, when you didn't answer him. "I came all this way to see you. The least you could do is be grateful." He leaned forward, crowding your space and pinning you against the couch.
One of his hands raised up to grip the back of your head, pulling your hair harshly in the process as he forced your head back and slotted his lips against yours. The vile taste of nicotine and beer flooded your senses and you desperately tried to get away from it.
Your hands raised into fists and you banged on his chest to try and get him to release you, simultaneously you tried to pull away but his grip merely tightened causing you to cry out in pain. Taking advantage of your open mouth he shoved his tongue to explore. On reflex you bit down hard, he cried out as blood splurted into your mouth and he pulled away, pushing you back harshly so that you landed on the couch before rolling to the floor, banging your knee on the coffee table in the process. You groaned at the pain before trying to crawl your way to the kitchen.
He hissed as he clutched at his mouth, looking at the blood on his fingers and you could see the flash of anger that rose in his features. He lunged at you, quicker than you could react, and grabbed your ankle, hauling you backwards and away from the kitchen.
"You little-" he spat, and a sense of terror filled you as he straddled your waist, gripping both of your wrists in one hand, and pinning you to the floor. His eyes were wild as he held you down. "I came here to give you a chance to be good, but you just can't behave, can you?"
His grip on your wrists was crushing, and the weight of him on your waist kept you pinned to the floor. You were terrified, your heart beating so fast that you were sure he could feel it through your body. You looked up at him, hoping that he would see the fear in your eyes, but he simply laughed cruelly. "You just can't help yourself, can you? You just need to be a brat." 
He leaned down, his face just inches from yours, and you could feel his breath on your face as he whispered. "That's okay. I can fix that."
He leaned down to kiss you again, your eyes closed in terror before his body weight was suddenly ripped away from you, an angry hiss filled the air followed by your ex's terrified yelping that devolved into choking gasps. Daring to open your eyes, you help but widen them further at the scene before you.
You opened your eyes and had to take a moment to process what you were seeing.
There, standing in your living room, was Teshai, wrapped around your ex like a snake around its prey, pinning him back against a wall by his neck with one hand. His tail was coiled around the man's legs, and his fangs were bared in a snarl that sent a shiver down your spine. He was furious, but there was an underlying edge of possessive anger.
Your ex was struggling, but it was futile. He was utterly trapped.
Teshai had arrived and was holding your ex by his throat tightly enough that it was obvious that he was struggling to breathe. Hands clawed at Teshai's arm uselessly, and he brought your ex closer to his own face. "You will not be fixing anything," he hissed before he struck quickly. Two large fangs, each one easily the size of one of your fingers, protruded from the top of Teshai's mouth before being stuck firmly into the juncture of your ex's neck. There were a couple of more flailing movements from your ex before his limbs dropped to dangle uselessly.
In less time than it took for your terrified eyes to widen and realize what he had just done, your ex went completely still. The life left his limbs but his eyes still danced frantically around, and then Teshai lifted his head, blood staining his lips. His eyes flickered up to meet yours, and you were startled to see the anger still burning in them. So used to seeing him as your beloved friend and lately crush, it was jarring to see the boiling anger rolling around his face.
Uncoiling he dropped your ex unceremoniously onto the floor. He moved towards you quickly the snarl still on his face and you half expected him to attack you as well. Instead, he helped you up, coiling around you gently as he checked for injuries. Another angry his escaped his lips as he found the bruises on your body, but seeing no further damage, he caressed your face as his own softened before you.
"Are you alright?" His words were strangled as he fought to control his emotions.
You nodded, even though you weren't entirely certain that you really were. Without your permission your eyes drifted over to your ex, still lying there, two large puncture wounds leaking blood.
"Wha..what did you do t-to him?" you stuttered in fear, eyes refusing to move anywhere but the still body that lay upon your floor, even as the coils of the culprit shifted gently around you. The scales of your paramour had never felt so cold before, and yet your body refused to move, in case it became the next victim to lay on the hardwood floor of your home.
"Less than he deserved," Teshai grumbled as he shifted to look back at the body as well. "My venom has a paralyzing agent, it will wear off soon but for now all he can do is lay there. He is not dead, yet."
A sigh left you and your body crumpled in on itself as relief flooded you that he was dead, before tensing again as the words hit you, "Yet?"
"He hurt you," Teshai hissed angrily, the back of his claws barely brushing against the bruises that were forming on your arms, "I will kill him. He will not harm anyone anymore by the time I'm through with him." The very end of his tail wagged in pleasure as if he were a dog expecting to be praised for completing a trick, rather than a large naga that hadn't just casually proclaimed to murder someone in front of you. In any other circumstances, it would have been cute, right now though, you just wanted the past ten minutes to have never happened.
You were stuck somewhere between abject terror and awe as you felt Teshai coiled around you. His scales felt foreign against your skin, and every coiled movement made your heart jump, afraid of what he would do next. You were acutely reminded of the fact that he was a predator to be wary of, regardless of how sweet and caring he usually was.
"What...I-no! You can't!" Finally able to tear your eyes away you shifted in his colours so that you were facing him fully. "I know he isn't the best person, but that's murder! It's wrong, and what if you're caught? What if-" What if I never see you again?
The sudden thought caught you off guard. Why were you so concerned about not seeing him again if he committed the crime? If he were to actually do so then you should be glad to see him gone. Even if it had been in your defence...
Teshai seemed taken aback by your argument, surprised that you would be defending the man who had come to your home and hurt you, rather than simply letting Teshai finish him off. 
"Why are you arguing on his behalf? He attacked you! He would've continued hurting you! He could've killed you," He coiled around you tighter as he leaned in, his arms wrapping around you as he buried his face in your neck. "I could've lost you, he doesn't deserve to keep living after that!"
You felt his entire body shudder, limbs curling tighter around you as the image of you dead before him flashed through his mind. Your hands raised on their own accord to hug him back, fingers running through his dark hair over and over again in an attempt to calm him.
You could understand in a way. Had it been Teshai being attacked, potentially almost killed...you weren't certain what you would do in that situation. It was entirely possible you would be the one advocating for death as he held you back in a reversal of roles.
"I know," you told him, "But committing a crime for justice doesn't make it any less of a crime. In the morning, perhaps even sooner than that, perhaps longer, you'll come to regret your actions. So instead of murder, we'll just call the police and let them deal with it." You gently drew his head back so that you could look him in the eyes, caressing his face with your hands, "Okay?"
He sighed in defeat before nodding, "Okay." Teshai relented under your touch and your reasoning. While he still felt the hot anger coursing through him and the need to protect you, he knew you were right. He could feel it. Taking a deep breath, he leaned into your hands, seeking the comfort and reassurance that they provided.
He pulled you closer to him once more, his arms wrapping around your body, and resting his chin on your shoulder as he whispered in your ear, "I just don't want to lose you. I don't know what I would do if something happened to you. I love you too much to let that happen."
You both froze at his admission before he pulled suddenly, a furious blush covering his face. "Ah, I mean-well you see- I uhm-mmph!" His attempt at stringing words together were cut off as you pulled him down into a kiss. He froze for a second before responding back reverently, caressing your face gently. Pulling back for a breath your forehead rested against his. "I love you too, Teshai." You admitted with a blush.
Teshai was stunned into silence by your kiss. His blush deepened, spreading across his face and down his neck as his arms wrapped tighter around you, pulling you up against his body so that he could feel your warmth and hold you close. His tail tightened around you as well, as if afraid you would disappear. He nuzzled his face against yours, his words almost a whine.
"Really? You do?"
"I do," you said with a smile.
Teshai felt like he could float away. His heart fluttered in his chest as he took in your words. You loved him. You actually loved him back. He hadn't just imagined this entire thing, he hadn't built it all up in his head. You truly and honestly shared his feelings.
He squeezed you even tighter, burying his face in your hair as he let out a breathless laugh. "You have no idea how long I've been wanting to hear you say that," he mumbled against your neck.
You couldn't help a snort at his words, "Somehow I think I do." A giggle escaped you as he flicked his tongue against your neck to tickle it in retribution.
Teshai joined in your laughter, his arms staying wrapped tightly around your waist as his tongue continued to tease and tickle your neck. He loved how it made you laugh, the sound of it was like music to his ears. Every now and then he would drop a gentle kiss as well, a soft brush of his lips against your skin.
His tail still coiled around your body, holding you close to him. He didn't want to let you go, not now, not ever.
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stupidphototricks · 5 months ago
Text
I still have a lot of leftover favorite quotes from Feet of Clay, I hope nobody minds.
People look down on stuff like geography and meteorology, not only because they're standing on one and being soaked by the other. They don't quite look like real science. But geography is only physics slowed down and with a few trees stuck on it, and meteorology is full of excitingly fashionable chaos and complexity. And summer isn't a time. It's a place as well. Summer is a moving creature and likes to go south for the winter. -- Terry Pratchett, Feet of Clay
Just take a minute with this one. Geography is only physics slowed down and with a few trees stuck on it. Is it profound, or is it complete nonsense? I can't tell! Curse you Sir Terry (affectionate)
Constable Visit[-The-Infidel-With-Explanatory-Pamphlets] spent his days in company with his co-religionist Smite-The-Unbeliever-With-Cunning-Arguments, ringing doorbells and causing people to hide behind the furniture everywhere in the city. -- Terry Pratchett, Feet of Clay
(These names are genius)
"Guild member?" "Not any more, sir." "Oh? How did you leave the [alchemists'] guild?" "Through the roof, sir. But I'm pretty certain I know what I did wrong." -- Terry Pratchett, Feet of Clay
"Is dere any trouble?" he said. The crowd backed away. "None at all, officer," said Mr. Raddley. "You, er, just loomed suddenly, that's all..." "Dis is correct," said Detritus. "I am a loomer. It often happen suddenly. So dere's no trouble, den?" "No trouble whatsoever, officer." -- Terry Pratchett, Feet of Clay
The tincture of night began to suffuse the soup of the afternoon. Lord Vetinari considered the sentence and found it good. He liked "tincture" particularly. Tincture. Tincture. It was a distinguished word, and pleasantly countered the flatness of "soup." -- Terry Pratchett, Feet of Clay
(An oddly Douglas Adams-esque digression. It goes on, too)
The three thieves looked around. As their eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, they received a general impression of armorality, with strong overtones of helmetness. -- Terry Pratchett, Feet of Clay
(mmm adjectivized nouns, my favorite)
She scrounged what she could from the guild, but a real alchemical laboratory should be full of the kind of glassware that looked as if it were produced during the Guild of Glassblowers All-Comers Hiccuping Contest. -- Terry Pratchett, Feet of Clay
Ankh-Morpork, alone of all the cities of the plains, had opened its gates to dwarfs and trolls (alloys are stronger, as Vetinari had said). It had worked. They made things. Often they made trouble, but mostly they made wealth. -- Terry Pratchett, Feet of Clay
There were no public health laws in Ankh-Morpork. It would be like installing smoke detectors in Hell. -- Terry Pratchett, Feet of Clay
"D*mn!" said Carrot, a difficult linguistic feat. -- Terry Pratchett, Feet of Clay
(I was wrong about Mort, it wasn’t the last time for that joke)
"The man has actually got charisn'tma." "Your meaning?" "I mean he's so dreadful he fascinates people." -- Terry Pratchett, Feet of Clay
He felt more alive than he had for days. The recent excitement still tingled in his veins, kicking his brain into life. It was the sparkle you got with exhaustion, he knew. You were so bone-weary that a shot of adrenaline hit you like a falling troll. -- Terry Pratchett, Feet of Clay
I love this because you're just reading along, it all makes sense, and then a troll drops unexpectedly into the sentence, illustrating the simile in a very meta sort of way.
Cows, in Sergeant Colon's book, should go "moo." Every child knew that. They shouldn't go "mur-r-r-r-r-m!" like some kind of undersea monster and spray you with spit. -- Terry Pratchett, Feet of Clay
"Hello, hello, hello, what's all this, then?" said Carrot. -- Terry Pratchett, Feet of Clay
(Carrot being a human police officer, iykyk)
Rogers the bulls were angry and bewildered, which counts as the basic state of mind for a full-grown bulls. -- Terry Pratchett, Feet of Clay
Just as a point of interest, Rogers is one of only two literary characters I can think of that use plural pronouns, the other one being Proginoskes the cherubim from A Wind in the Door by Madeline L'Engle.
Angua couldn't make out any words but many dwarf cries didn't bother with words. They went straight for emotions in sonic form. -- Terry Pratchett, Feet of Clay
"It's the most menacing dwarf battle-cry there is! Once it's been shouted someone has to be killed!" "What's it mean?" "Today Is A Good Day For Someone Else To Die!" -- Terry Pratchett, Feet of Clay
(Dwarfs are more pragmatic than Klingons)
"Commander Vimes said someone has to speak for the people with no voices!" -- Terry Pratchett, Feet of Clay
(Vimes would have gotten along with Granny Aching, I think)
"We can rebuild him," said Carrot hoarsely. "We have the pottery." -- Terry Pratchett, Feet of Clay
"Dis is police brutality..." Igneous muttered. "No, dis is just police shoutin'!" yelled Detritus. "You want to try for brutality it OK wit' me!" -- Terry Pratchett, Feet of Clay
(Detritus has really gotten the knack of policing by now. And by the way he does nothing out of line here, or I think ever)
"That's blasphemy," said the vampire. He gasped as Vimes shot him a glance like sunlight. "That's what people say when the voiceless speak." -- Terry Pratchett, Feet of Clay
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tumbleweed-writes · 6 months ago
Note
From your smut prompt list....how about #1 and #44 for my favorite scotsman Chibs?
Belonging.
I have zero idea how this got so filthy. I would apologize for the filth, but it's smut. What'd ya expect???
18+ Only obviously.
Chibs pushes Y/N away in a poorly thought out attempt to protect her . Y/N decides to go on a date with a rebound to mend her broken heart and Chibs is left trying to remind Y/N that they belong with one another.
========
This date was a terrible idea. In fact, it might be the worst idea she’d ever had in her entire life. The thought danced through her head as she studied herself in the floor length mirror in her bedroom. A voice in the back of her head exclaimed that the polite and handsome rookie cop who’d asked her on a date was not quite worthy of the pretty little floral dress she’d chosen to wear.
The white knee length dress was adorned with red roses and the sweetheart neckline gave a perfect view of her cleavage. The red heels she’d worn with it made her legs look so appealing. She’d spent far too long curling her hair and picking out a perfect shade of red lipstick to match the roses on her dress.
The dress had been bought with a much different man in mind. Her heart ached as it reminded her that this man was clearly no longer worthy of this dress.
When she met Filip Chibs Telford she should have been wise enough to know he would break her heart.
She had been new in town opening a bakery not far from Floyd’s Barbershop on main street. She’d used what little inheritance she’d received from her grandfather to follow her dreams and open a bakery. She’d taken a huge risk having left her safe and stable job to follow her passions and open her own business. She’d been praying the risk would pay off.
She’d chosen to move from San Francisco out to Charming, California. She’d been charmed by the name, no pun intended, and the small town atmosphere.  It felt like the perfect place to follow her dreams.
One of her very first customers had been one Gemma Teller Morrow.
The intimidating looking Queen of SAMCRO had been looking for a birthday cake for her grandson and had been impressed with Y/N’s work.
Y/N had been nervous but delighted to have her first big client and she’d thrown herself into making the Harley Davidson themed cake for the toddler.
The men who had been sent to pick up said cake had not been what she’d been expecting. The Scotsman in particular had caught her attention; the accent quite uncommon in the middle of northern California.
She’d been unaware that she had caught his attention as well. 
At the time of their first meeting she’d been a bit distracted by Bobby Munson who’d been talking to her about the secret to a perfect muffin. She’d not noticed the Scottish Son admiring her during the discussion she’d been having with Bobby over preferred leavening agents and the perfect ratio of fruit to batter in blueberry muffins.
Bobby had become a frequent visitor to her bakery after the birthday cake job, and much to her shock the Scotsman had joined him more often than not.
The very first conversation Chibs and she had ever had one on one had been over shortbread, in particular his praise for her shortbread. She’d taken it as a genuine compliment when he’d admitted that her Scottish shortbread was the best he’d had stateside.
A friendship had formed between Chibs and she, although she knew to outsiders it might appear to be a strange friendship; the scary looking forty something year old outlaw biker being so buddy buddy with the young sweet looking baker. It was an odd mix; leather and whiskey with floral dresses and cupcakes.
The change in their friendship had come unexpectedly. She’d had some trouble with a local developer who’d been visiting Charming; the man had begun attempting to intimidate Y/N into backing out of her lease. He’d been quite pushy with a few of the businesses on main street.
He had intentions of building some upscale condos and high end retail on the street. He thought Charming would be a perfect getaway for yuppies looking to escape the big city. 
Apparently the landlord who owned this particular strip of buildings on main street was not interested in selling the property. He’d figured he had a pretty good deal going with the businesses operating there as most had been there for decades. 
So the developer had taken to attempting to get the business owners who were renting the shop spaces to back out of their lease. 
His attempts to get Y/N to give up her retail space had been friendly at first, until it had become clear that she was not interested in moving from her place of business no matter how much money he was willing to throw at her. 
He’d gotten quite demanding and it had become full on harassment. 
SAMCRO didn’t take kindly to the developer taking an interest in Charming’s real estate if it meant bringing in outsiders to the safe haven that was Charming, and Chibs had not taken kindly to the man attempting to intimidate the pretty young baker who he’d taken such a liking to.
SAMCRO had been willing to come to her defense and Chibs had seemed to take quite the pleasure in scaring off the developer.
Y/N’s intention to thank the guys with baked goods, and Chibs with his own batch of Scottish Shortbread, had been started with innocent intentions.
The guys had appreciated the muffins she’d baked them as well as the cake. Chibs had appreciated the shortbread…but somehow her thank you to him had gotten a little out of hand.
One second he’d been standing in her shop accepting the box of shortbread and the next minute her lips had been pressed to his; his hands caressing her body.
She was grateful that the bakery had been closed and it had been late enough at night because Chibs had wound up taking her back to the kitchen and one thing had led to another. She was sure the health department would shut her down if they’d ever known just what she allowed Chibs to do to her, bending her over the counter, and what they’d done on the floor. 
They’d laid side by side nude on the kitchen floor both out of breath staring up at the ceiling when the words had left him. “I think it kinda goes without sayin that I like ye a lot.”
The giggle that had left her made a smile cross his features, the smile only growing as she spoke in response. “Good, I like you a lot too.”
Things had been good; they’d been happy.
Then things had changed. Jax Teller had taken the gavel becoming club pres and Chibs had become his SGT At Arms.
With the new title came some unexpected distance between Chibs and she. Y/N had figured at first that perhaps Chibs had just been busy given all the changes in the club, but then weeks had gone by and then before she knew it a month had gone by and she barely heard from him.
She’d made several attempts to reconnect with him and find the spark they seemed to have lost; but he’d just seemed to brush off her attempts. She’d called and paid visits to TM Auto…she’d even visited the clubhouse and his apartment, but he’d seemed so eager to push her away.
The last interaction they’d had told her all she needed to know.
They’d been standing in his dorm room at the clubhouse after she’d paid a visit practically begging him to just give her a moment of his time. 
She could remember the words that she’d said to him. “Lately, I just feel like maybe you don’t love me as much as I love you. I just feel so…neglected. I know you’re busy, but I’d like to at least feel like you still have a moment for me in your life. Lately, it feels like I have to fight tooth and nail to get you to glance my way. I know there’s been a lot of changes for you in the club, and I’m trying to be supportive…I am trying so hard to meet you halfway, but it feels like I’m the only one trying. I feel like I’m fighting so hard for us. I’m so tired of fighting, Filip…I can’t be the only one fighting for us.”
The words she’d gotten in response had felt like a knife to the chest. “Maybe it aint worth fightin fer.”
“I love you, how is that not worth fighting for?” She questioned not above pleading with him. This just seemed to be coming out of left field. She didn’t understand how he could claim that they weren’t worth fighting for.
He’d always made her feel so loved and adored. She felt so connected to him. He made her feel so wonderful. How had he changed so quickly without even a moment's notice? 
The response she got cut her all the more deeply. “Jus leave me alone, Y/N.”
He paused the next words that left him sounding uncharacteristically cruel. “It was fun while it lasted, aye? Ye were a good fuck. We got each other off and it was all good n’ well. Shite is getting too deep between us lately; too personal. It’s gettin a wee bit pathetic on yer half. Yer clingy and desperate. Like I said, shite is pathetic. I can’t do commitment, Lass. I ain't the type to give ye the white wedding and white picket fence. We’re two different people from two very different worlds. We should own up to the fact that our paths ain’t goin to align. Ye shoulda known from the start what this shite was between us. This was never anythin serious fer me. I don’t love ye.”
Those words had shattered her heart; she only managed to step back from him as though he’d slapped her. She spoke, her words harsh, tears flooding her vision. “I wish I had never met you.”
With that she’d turned away and fled from his room and his life.
She’d allowed herself time to cry and have the biggest pity party known to man. Then she’d done her very best to put on a brave face and carry on with her life without Chibs Telford. She had returned to work and pasted a smile on her face. She’d thrown herself into her work. She had ignored the looks of pity that had been sent her way as Bobby and a few brave members of SAMCRO had dared to still come to her shop for baked goods.
She’d not seen neither hide nor hair of Chibs Telford though, and even though her heart might claim differently, her head insisted that it was just as well for her.
Even if her heart screamed that it was a lie; she swore that she never cared to see Filip Chibs Telford ever again as long as she lived and breathed. 
When a handsome young rookie cop had stepped into her shop with his little sister in tow looking to buy a treat for the girl; Y/N had been flattered by his obvious flirtation. She hated to admit it was cute. Guys who were good with kids were appealing. 
Though she didn’t quite get the same weak kneed putty feeling she got when Chibs flirted with her; she’d forced herself to flirt back with the young officer.
When he’d come back a week ago and asked her out for dinner, she’d said yes despite her heart screaming at her that she was not ready.
That was how she wound up sitting at an Italian restaurant on main street with her date. The restaurant was nice; romantic and cozy. The candlelight failed to invoke romantic notions in Y/N though as she stared at her date.
Seth; his name was Seth.
He was sweet, intelligent, handsome, and funny. He was kind and seemed as though he was passionate about his work. He had brought her a bouquet of roses and complemented her outfit. He’d held the car door open for her. He’d hung on every word she’d said tonight. He didn’t do a thing for her though. 
There was no spark there at all. He didn’t make her heart skip a beat. He didn’t make her feel that stir of lust deep within her. He didn’t make butterflies fill her belly. He didn’t make her feel like a nervous schoolgirl. 
She found herself comparing him to a certain Scotsman. He had a nice smile but his smile was missing the dimples she adored in Chibs. He had a charm to him; but it was not the same charm Chibs Telford had mastered. He was handsome and young, but Chibs was handsome in his own right and she was fond of the gray along his temples. Seth had a slow California accent but it was nothing like Chibs’ thick Scottish brogue. Seth was brave due to his career, but she didn’t feel the same sense of protection she felt around Chibs. He was funny, but he failed to make her laugh as hard as Chibs though. He was sexually appealing, but she didn’t find herself picturing what he might be like in bed. A voice in the back of her head exclaimed that he could not please her the way Chibs had done.
Chibs Telford had ruined her for other men, and she despised him for it. 
It felt hopeless. She hated that she was on a date with a nice and socially acceptable man and all she could think about was the socially unacceptable man who had been awful to her the last time they’d spoken. How was she this pathetic?
She loved a man who did not want nor love her. She could not think of anything more pitiful. 
She frowned as Seth spoke a frown crossing his features. “What do you think?”
“About?” She dared to ask hoping it was not so obvious she’d not been paying attention to a word he’d said thus far. She had no idea what they were even talking about.
“The sushi place they’re putting in? It’s going in out near that coffee shop by Jones Appliance Repair. Everyone’s been talking about it.” Seth explained the frown deepening he most likely picking up on the fact that she’d not been paying attention to him nor the conversation he’d been attempting to carry along with her.
“Oh, uh, I’d be curious to try it out.” She remarked her cheeks flushing ever so slightly mortified it was obvious she was not able to focus on this date at all.
Seth scrunched his nose up at the response he fast to reply. “Oh, I don’t think I’d be brave enough to try it. Eating raw fish just seems kind of unsanitary. I don’t know…seems like it might make you sick. I mean you really aren't supposed to eat raw meat, ya know?.”
She bit the inside of her cheek, tempted to snap that people ate sushi all the time and fared just fine. She pushed back the comment ignoring the voice in the back of her head that claimed Chibs would endure trying it with her even if he felt wary of it. He would try it if he thought it would make her happy.
She hated the thought, reminding herself that Chibs cared very little about what made her happy. If he cared about her happiness, he would not have broken her heart.
He didn’t love her. He’d said the words himself. Nothing between them had been serious according to him. He did not want her. 
“Are you okay? You seem miles away.” Seth observed she cringing at the statement.
She sighed, deciding to just be honest with him. He seemed like a nice enough guy and she felt guilty that she was unable to really commit to this date. She was using him as a rebound and she felt awful for using him in such a way. She felt like an awful person. Didn’t hurt people hurt people though? “I just got out of a relationship…he broke up with me and I guess, I’m still kind of heartbroken over it. I found out he wasn’t taking it as seriously as I was…or at least that’s what he said. I guess I'm still in love with him…which sucks, because he doesn’t love me. You’re a nice guy, but my head and heart are kind of a mess right now. Rejection stings, and my heart just feels so heavy lately. I guess, I’m just not entirely ready for any of this…I thought this date would be a good idea, but I’m just not ready.”
Seth nodded his head, reaching down to toy with the polished fork on the table. “Your ex is that Scottish guy, right? The biker, he’s in that club, The Sons of Anarchy?”
She furrowed her brow at the comment. She knew SAMCRO was well known around town…but she found it strange that Seth would have enough knowledge about the club to place the fact that she’d been previously involved with Chibs. She spoke the words flying from her lips. “How do you know that?”
Seth shrugged his shoulders he fast to respond. “I’ve seen them around town…saw you on the back of the Scottish guy’s bike once a few months back.”
He was fast to speak again. “Sheriff Roosevelt knows the Sons of Anarchy are up to no good despite their company line of just being motorcycle enthusiasts. The last sheriff Charming had was apparently way too willing to turn the other cheek when it came to SAMCRO. Pretty sure old Unser was just as crooked as the MC. Now that San Joaquin has absorbed the Charming Police department, the days of turning the other cheek are over. Most honest cops worth their salt would love to bust those guys. I’ve seen the records these guys have, the Scottish guy too. They’re criminals, there’s no way of sugar coating it. It’s some crazy shit. They’re an international organization, don’t know if you knew that. The Feds have tried and failed to bust them. The ATF were in town a few years back and they didn’t manage to pin them down the way they’d hoped. So, if the local PD did it, it’d be impressive.”
He paused, shrugging his shoulders the words that left his lips sounding so nonchalant. “I imagine you have to know something about what they’re up to given you dated one of them. I mean, I’m pretty sure you’re smart enough to see the red flags he must have been giving off.”
“Did you ask me out so you could dig for information about my ex and SAMCRO?” She snapped, the thought making her blood boil.
She was being used wasn’t she?
“Not entirely. I asked you out because you’re attractive and you seem like a sweet girl despite your dating history. Anything you might say about your ex and his friends is just a bonus.” Seth remarked.
 Y/N reacted by picking up her wine glass, tossing the liquid within it in his face.
Seth wiped his face, a scoff leaving him, his dress shirt now stained with red wine that had managed to drip down his face before he had a chance to really wipe it away. “Guess you’re really not over the ex if you’re this defensive over it. The guy seriously broke your heart and you’re still protecting him. Dude is a scumbag and you’re this upset about the idea of him being busted.”
He spoke nodding at the large windows, to their left, that gave a view of the street outside the restaurant. “Guess he’s not over you either. I noticed him following us when I picked you up. I’m surprised you didn’t hear his bike or notice him. Like I said though, you’ve been miles away all night. He really did a number on you. It’s a shame. You seemed like such a sweet girl and he’s ruined you, clearly.”
She turned in her seat spotting the motorcycle across the street and the familiar man standing beside it. She could see him standing by his bike, his arms crossed, his eyes squinted as he struggled to peer through the restaurant windows in the dim light of dusk.
She grimaced, torn between wanting to stay here and endure this horrible date or wanting to go outside and risk confronting the man who had broken her heart.
She sighed deciding that her heart was going to hurt either way. She might as well go with the devil she knew.
She spoke, gathering her purse and her jacket. “Lose my number. I am not going to be a career stepping stone for you. I may be ruined, but I’m not stupid nor is my self esteem low enough to let myself be used by another man ever again.”
With that she gathered what little she had left of her pride, ignoring Seth’s comment as she walked away from him. “Don’t come crying to me when he winds up in prison. He’s a criminal, Y/N. Don’t forget that. He’ll never change.”
She kept her head down as she left the restaurant pretending she did not see the Scotsman watching her every move.
She cringed as she heard the sound of a bike starting up. She moved a little quicker knowing it was a futile endeavor as she could not outwalk his Harley especially not in red open toed pumps.
“Get on the bike, Lass.” The comment sounded out beside her.
“Fuck you.” She snapped, daring to glare at him, not stopping her pace.
Chibs sighed, rolling his eyes at the comment. “Aye, I deserve that.”
“No kidding. You’re a real piece of shit, showing up here after the last time I saw you. I hate you.” She remarked her pace speeding up Chibs not giving up riding along beside her slowly.
“Now that ye got that outta yer system, will ye please jus get on the damn bike? What do ye think yer even doin? Are ye seriously goin to walk home? Ye live miles away, Love. Jus let me take ye home.” Chibs responded, flinching a bit at the venom behind her words.
“No, I don’t need a damn thing from you. I am no longer your concern. We were never serious, remember?” She snapped back, turning down an alleyway attempting to escape him.
Chibs remained undeterred, parking his bike at the curb and dismounting it. He followed her down the alleyway, his voice sounding drained. “Come on, Y/N. This is fuckin insanity.”
“The only insane thing is you bothering to show up and crash my date. I think you made it perfectly clear that you wanted me to leave you alone the last time we spoke. You made your thoughts on me and how pathetic I am perfectly crystal clear. Nothing has changed.” Y/N retorted groaning as she neared a dead end, it hitting her that her escape route was useless.
Chibs sighed, unable to stop himself from saying it. “Ye ain’t pathetic. Yer date didn’t look like it was goin so well. A fuckin cop, Love? Really?”
She scoffed at the comment she turning to glare at him, the words falling from her lips, unable to stop herself from taunting him. “Remember we come from two different worlds. In my world I can date a cop and you can’t do a damn thing about it.”
He stepped closer to her his eyes growing dark as he stared down at her. “Aye, maybe so. Ye didn’t look like ye were havin much fun with him though, Lass. Ye looked fuckin miserable all night.”
She glared up at him, deciding to push his buttons all the more, lying through her teeth her words far more vulgar than she’d ever dare them to be in any other conversation. “Oh I’ve had plenty of fun with him, Chibs. You did say I was a good fuck. I thought I’d test the theory with him. I might be desperate and pathetic, but you know how good I feel wrapped around a cock. Maybe I thought I’d try his dick out, see how good I could feel.”
The words made his eyes grow all the darker. He stepped even closer to her his voice picking up a possessive tone. “We both know he can’t fuck ye as good as I can, Love. We both know I could do ye so well ye couldn’t walk the next day. Ye seem to be walkin jus fine righ now which tells me he’s nowhere as good as me.”
Her eyes narrowed, she shoving back the lust creeping up in her at the reminder of just how good Chibs Telford had been in bed. “You lost the right to fuck me the second you broke my heart”.
She paused, stepping back closer to the wall, her words harsh, the pain evident in her voice she clenching her fists refusing to cry in front of him. “You don’t love me, remember? So, why the hell are you even here?”
He cringed at the statement a sense of something she did not expect to see in his eyes washing over him; shame, regret.
He sighed the words leaving him. “I made a mistake.”
Y/N crossed her arms over her chest, she sounded as emotionally drained as she felt. “You can’t just show up like this, Filip. You can’t throw me away and then get mad because some other guy wanted me. I’m not something you can just drop and pick back up at your convenience. I can’t deal with the emotional whiplash. I deserve better than someone who only wants me when someone else shows interest.”
“It ain’ like that. I ain’ jus showin up because some prick wanted ye. I won’t lie and say that Bobby mentionin ye had a date didn’t push me to get off my arse and stop bein so stubborn. This ain’ about me wantin ye only cause someone else does. I never stopped wantin ye.” Chibs struggled the explain the comment, his words only confusing her further.
“You didn’t act like you wanted me very much the last time we spoke. You told me I was the only one taking anything between us seriously.” She pointed out the hurt evident in her voice.
Chibs cringed at the comment, reaching up to run a hand through his hair, a sigh leaving his lips. “I didn’t mean any of it…I thought I was protectin ye.”
“From what?” She exclaimed, annoyance joining her confusion.
He sighed, shaking his head. “From me, Love. I know we never said the words…never acknowledged the truth…I never said out loud jus what I am…what SAMCRO is. I knew ye were smart enough to figure it out…that I’m an outlaw. I’m a criminal and yer innocent.”
She parted her lips wanting to snap that she was not that innocent. She didn’t have the chance though as Chibs spoke again. “I have seen ol ladies come and go in this club. I never took an ol lady before ye…Even after I divorced Fiona…I figured I’d not find anyone I wanted to spend my life with…I watched my brother’s and their ol ladies though…I’ve seen em be treated like shite by my brothers. I’ve seen men treat the women they claim to love like dog shite.”
“You never treated me like that…I mean aside from how you dumped me, that was kind of shitty.” She remarked, her voice soft.
Chibs nodded his head, a heavy sigh leaving him. “Aye that may be true. It wasn’t jus kinda shite love, I was a piece of shite.”
He paused, forcing himself to say the words he should have said to her from the start. “The violence that the life I’ve chosen requires…I never wanted ye to experience it. The role I’ve taken in the club..Sgt at Arms..it requires a certain level of violence…violence I’m perfectly capable of…it’s a side of me I never wanted ye to know existed in me…the life I’ve chosen to live chews ye up and spits ye back out. I’ve seen it break more people than I care to admit…and I’ve lost more than a few people in my life. I got in my head thinkin bout ye, thinkin bout how much I love ye…how pure bein in love with ye feels. Told myself the life I chose to live would jus taint that purity, that the world that comes with me would break ye. I couldn’t let it happen. I love ye, and I’d rather let ye go than lose ye or make ye think I’m a monster.”
“So, you just broke my heart instead of telling me how you felt? That was the plan?” She snapped, absorbing the words rolling them around in her head soaking them in.
He loved her.
She knew of course just what he was…she was not stupid. She didn’t buy the whole innocent motorcycle enthusiast lie SAMCRO loved to spin. She had spotted the occasional signs that Chibs’ day to day life consisted of more than just being a mechanic at TM Auto. He carried a burner cell and weapons for heaven's sake. Those were pretty big red flags if there ever were any. 
The red flags had never pushed her from Chibs. He’d seemed so sweet and had been a perfect gentleman to her. She’d told herself that anyone who could treat her with such adoration could not be a danger to her. She’d ignored any sense of self preservation that told her he was dangerous and had followed her heart with him.
She also heard the whispers around town. Charming’s local populace seemed to be well aware that SAMCRO was up to no good. They seemed to tolerate the club as a necessary evil of sorts.
She’d told herself that the men she’d gotten to know, who so often frequented her bakery, were not a threat to her.  
Chibs sighed nodding his head wordlessly as Y/N spoke the words leaving her. “You’re an idiot, Filip.”
He felt a small smirk cross his features at the comment. “Aye, been called worse.”
He sighed the smirk dropping from his lips the words sounding certain as they left him. “I fucked up, Love. I thought I was doin the righ thing…lettin ye go. It fuckin hurts though. I miss ye. My heart misses ye. This past month has been miserable without ye. When I found out some fuckin cop was takin ye out on a date, I bout lost my mind. I came out here tonigh to…I don’t know…see ye from afar, maybe work up my nerve to crash yer date…try to win ye back. I figured if I got here and ye seemed happy, then I’d let ye go…but ye don’t seem happy. I don’t think either of us are happy apart, Love.”
She sighed resting against the brick wall of the building behind her the words leaving her. “I don’t know what to do with this, Filip. I mean it. I can’t deal with the emotional whiplash. This past month has sucked. I’m not happy apart from you…I’m afraid of letting you back in though. How do I know you aren’t just going to drop me the next time you get too lost in your head? I know what you are, Filip. I’m not an idiot. I care about you enough to learn to accept that side of you…I’ve been accepting thus far…I’m so hesitant to learn to trust you again though… I can’t listen to you tell me you don’t love me again. I can’t let you break my heart in some hairbrained attempt to protect me again.”
He let out a sigh of his own, his heart sinking, fearing that it was too little too late. Perhaps he’d ruined the one good thing he seemed to have going for him.
He swallowed the lump in his throat knowing he had to try to fix this. He was going to try as hard as he could. “I know I really fucked up, Lass. I swear to God though that I will spend the rest of my life tryin to make up fer how much I hurt ye. I know I don’t deserve a second chance, but I’m beggin fer ye to give me a chance. I will do whatever it takes to get ye to let me back in. I’ll work fer it day and night if that’s what it takes. Yer the best thing I got in my life…the purest, I aint known many pure things in my life. Bein with ye made me feel like I migh jus be a good man even with all the shite I’ve done and all the pain I’ve caused fer the club…Bein without ye, it’s been hell fer me. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, and I can’t focus. I’ve been a grouchy fuck, accordin to Bobby at least.  I fuckin broke yer heart and my own in the process. I want to fix it, Love. I want to fix our hearts if yer willin to give me the chance. Jus give me the chance to put our hearts back together. Let me try.”
She felt her throat grow tight at this, her eyes growing damp, Chibs fearing she was about to tell him that there was no chance for them. His fears died as she spoke, her voice weepy. “Oh, Filip.”
She reached for him, her hand pressing to his cheek he leaning into her touch as she spoke. “I don’t want to feel this miserable ever again. Please, don’t make me feel that awful ever again.”
“Never, Love.” He reassured her his hands reaching out to press to her sides, thankful that she did not yank away from him as he pulled her into an embrace.
He leaned down his lips sliding across her, the kiss starting out slow and sweet, almost as hesitant as their very first kiss.
The kiss quickly grew deep and impassioned the realization of just how much they’d longed for one another growing apparent. 
She slid a hand down his body resting it against his denim clad cock massaging it as it began to perk up the lower region of his body very aware of just how much he’d longed for her. He groaned, pulling from the kiss his words thick with need. “Fuck, Love. Yer playin with fire here.”
She smirked at him, the words spilling from her. “I don’t mind fire.”
He moaned his hips rocking against her on their own accord eager to chance even the slightest hint of stimulation from the woman he’d feared he would never have a chance to have ever again.
He spoke that jealous little voice, unable to stop itself from working the words from him. “I have to know, Love. Did ye really fuck that cop bastard?”
She sighed, deciding that lying to him would just be cruel. She pulled her hand from his crotch ignoring the low whine that left him. “No, Filip. The last guy I slept with is you.”
He nodded his head frantically, a sense of relief washing over him. “Aye, okay…even still...”
He paused for a moment finding the words unable to stop himself from still feeling possessive of her. “I’m going to fuck ye so hard yer going to forget that guys name”
She felt a wave of lust wash over her that she knew Chibs was only capable of dragging from her. “Please.”
His lips met hers, the kiss somewhat harsh that possessive voice in the back of his head insisting that he had to claim her right here right now. She was his and she needed to be reminded of it.
His lips left hers pressing down her neck nipping at her skin roughly sucking against any marks his teeth may have left behind ensuring she’d have plenty of love bites to remind her of who she belonged to. 
His hands roamed her body she practically melting against him doing all she could to run her hands across his back caressing him over the leather of his kutte.
He ran his hands up her body yanking the front of her dress down so hard he was amazed it didn’t rip the fabric. His lips pressed down her chest nipping at the delicate skin along her cleavage wanting to leave his mark there as well.
She moaned, her head falling back, his name leaving her lips. He groaned against her his words muffled against her skin. “Aye that’s right, Love. Say my name, let everyone know jus who ye belong to.”
He yanked her bra down her breasts spilling from the cups, his lips locking down over a breast suckling harshly a whine leaving her.
He ran a hand up her dress along her hip caressing her skin as his lips focused on her breasts nipping at the skin and taking her nipples between his lips suckling eagerly.
She whined as he wasted no time to slide a hand along the lace of her panties, a groan leaving him the noise vibrating against her breast as he continued to suckle.
His hand slid eagerly under the waistband of her panties, his fingers finding her slit. He grunted rubbing her for a moment before allowing his fingers to slide between her damp center. He thrust his fingers in her stroking her walls, her knees practically buckling.
He spoke pulling from her breasts his voice sounding almost awestruck. “Yer so fuckin beautiful, so fuckin wet fer me. Just grippin down on my fingers pullin me in. This pussy missed me, aye?”
She nodded her head wordlessly a whine leaving her his fingers stopping a frustrated noise leaving her. He spoke his voice demanding. “Tell me, Love.”
“I missed you so much, Filip.” She admitted the words so needy and so true. 
He groaned, rewarding her with a thrust of his fingers curling them just right to hit a part of her that made her tremble against him. “Good girl. That’s my lass. Drippin down my fingers takin em so well.”
She moaned, not caring who might just hear her. She was sure a marching band could make their way down the alley at the moment and she would not give a damn as good as she felt at the moment.
His fingers slid across her clit, the action making her knees grow all the wobbly, her fingers digging into the leather of his kutte a high pitched whine leaving her. “Fuck.”
He smirked, rubbing circular patterned into the sensitive bud, the action making a few more curses leave her lips. 
He balanced stimulation to her clit with the thrust of his fingers into her core, the action making her feel dizzy. The only thing she could focus on was rocking her hips to chase the stimulation he provided. 
He spoke a teasing tone to his voice. “Christ, look at ye, Love. Riding my fingers, so needy fer me. Ye love this don’t ye? Me fingerin ye in the alley where anyone might see us.”
She whined nodding her head knowing this was the most risky thing she’d ever done in her life and she found it thrilling.
She knew she’d realistically be mortified if anyone walked upon this, but the risk of it all made her wetter than she was sure she’d ever been in her entire life.
He spoke, pushing her all the more. “Imagine if yer fuckin date walked up on this aye? Saw ye riding my fingers moanin fer me like a whore. Fuckin seein I’m the only one who can make ye feel this good by my fingers alone.”
“You make me feel so fucking good, Filip. No one else feels this good.” She whined the statement, working a moan from him, his lips pressing to hers in a deep bruising kiss.
She continued to ride his fingers eager to chase a release.
He encouraged her his voice demanding as he pulled from the kiss. “Play with yer clit, Love. Touch that pussy while you ride my fingers.”
She moaned, pressing her fingers to his lips, he taking them between his lips sucking them wetting them for her.
She pulled her hand from his lips reaching down as he demanded toying with her clit, the task not easy with the fuss of working around the skirt of her dress and her panties.
She rubbed circles into her clit frantically trying to increase the pleasure she felt.
She whined the heat beginning to pool in her abdomen, a coil tightening within her proving that she was so incredibly close to falling over the edge.
She spoke the words needy. “Going to cum.”
“That’s my love. Want ye to fuckin cum. Cum on my fingers, sweetheart. Let go fer me.” He encouraged her his eyes unable to leave her as she neared her release, her skin flushed, her lips parted, her head fallen back, her chest heaving. 
She was unable to stop the high pitched moan from leaving her as she let go her thighs shaking her center clenching and unclenching around his fingers.
He continued to finger her throughout the orgasm he moaning his cock throbbing desperate to be within her his manhood feeling envious of his fingers.
She whined as she came down from her orgasm, his touch becoming too much all too quickly. She slumped against him as he pulled his fingers from her.
She kept a tight grip on him almos sure she’d collapse to the ground if he was not holding her up.
She moaned as he pulled his fingers up to his lips, sucking them, cleaning her taste from them, a satisfied groan leaving his lips.
 He pulled his fingers from his lips pressing his lips to hers sharing her taste with her. She moaned against the kiss his hand roaming her body as she recovered from the intensity of her orgasm.
He pulled from the kiss his words needy. “Want ye so bad, Love. Let me fuck ye.”
She whined nodding her head the words that left her just as full of need. “Please, Filip. Need you so much.”
He groaned, reaching down and unfastening his belt with skilled hands. He unzipped his jeans unbuttoning them. He yanked his boxers down just enough to pull his hard cock from the confines of the fabric.
She moaned, reaching between them her hand wrapping around his cock he grunting at the touch. Her thumb ran along his slit spreading the precum leaking from him, he moaning at the action.
He spoke resisting the urge to thrust against her hand though the temptation to spit in her hand and demand she jerk him off a tempting one. "Shite, m'love."
He could picture cumming from her touch spilling his release against her hand, maybe even letting a little of it land on her sweet little dress. He smirked at the thought a possessive voice in the back of his head exclaiming that he’d mark her so clearly making it obvious she was all his.
He spoke his voice demanding as he reluctantly pulled from her touch. “Get rid of those panties, Love. Give me room to fuck ye.”
She did was she was told, reaching down to place her fingers under the waistband of her panties, sliding them down her legs letting them land against the concrete below them not caring what happened to them as long as it meant having his perfect cock buried in her.
He groaned, taking himself in hand, sliding it along her wet pussy, the words leaving him. “Gonna fuck ye so good, Love. Gonna ruin ye for any other man.”
“Already have.” She whined the words so honest. 
She knew her heart was his. She was trusting him to take care of her and make this right with her.
He groaned the words spilling from him. “Fuckin ruined me too, Sweet Lass. Ye belong with me. Yer all I fuckin want, forever.”
He moved his hands to her thighs encouraging her to wrap her legs around his hips allowing him to press her against the wall for support.
She wrapped her arms around him clutching on to him desperately trusting him to keep her held upwards. She spoke the words needy. “I’m addicted to you. You’re mine.”
He spoke positioning his cock at the entrance the words possessive. “Yer fuckin mine too. My ol lady, only mine, till the breath leave my body.”
She didn’t have a chance to respond as he slid himself home entering her inch by inch hissing at the sensation of her velvety soaking walls enveloping his cock. 
He spoke his words low and full of praise. “Perfect fuckin pussy. Belongs wrapped round me, only me.”
“Only you.” She moaned agreeing her head falling back as he began to rock against her his hips jerking against her desperately proving he was intent on fucking her.
His hips rocked against her frantically pushing her back up against the wall, his hand reaching up to press to the back of her head not wanting to slam her head into the rough brick wall behind them.
She whined clutching on to him all the tighter, letting herself sink into the sensation of him. Her lips pressed to his trying her best to muffle her moans.
He moaned against her lips the sensation of her wrapped around him so heavenly. He knew no one had ever felt so incredible wrapped around him.
He may have taunted her commenting that he was capable of fucking her so hard that she couldn’t walk the next day, but it was the truth. He knew she was so capable of taking all he had to give her.
She thrived equally on the rougher encounters they had as well as the softer slow love making sessions. Each time he had the privilege of taking her he was reminded of how lucky he was.
He had not been lying. She had ruined him for other women. 
He was hopelessly devoted to her. She took him so perfectly and she loved him so deeply. She loved him for all he was, even his imperfections. She saw the good in him that others disregarded.
She was his saving grace at the end of the day. He knew he could protect her. He could make sure she could remain his sweet loving ol lady who made him shortbread and slept peacefully by his side at night trusting him to care for her.
He kept thrusting in her his hips not losing speed knowing he was desperate not only to chase his release but to help her reach hers as well. 
He spoke his voice low and filled with adoration. “Look at ye, fuckin cock drunk on me. Can’t think bout nothin but how good I feel.”
She whimpered, nodding her head the words struggling to leave her lips. “Feels so good, Filip.”
He spoke a moan of approval leaving him. “Feels perfect, Love. Takin my cock so well. Shite, I love ye.”
“Love you.” She responded, her fingers digging into his back as he continued to take her against the wall.
She whined, able to hear the sounds of cars passing by only feet away.  The alleyway was dark enough out and there were no lights nearby to reveal that she was being fucked in such a public place.
This felt so filthy but so perfect. This was so dangerous, just as dangerous as him, and she loved it. She loved how risky this felt. She loved the man desperately fucking her making her center ache around him dripping against his cock. 
She knew he was the only man on this entire planet who could make her feel this good and the only man she would trust to take her in such a vulnerable place.
He would protect her; she knew this. She trusted him to take care of her and keep her safe. He would prove to her that he was devoted to her and would cherish her heart just as dearly as she cherished his.
He moaned the words leaving his lips. ‘Gonna take ye slower the second I get ye home. Gonna take ye so many times tonight, Lovely girl. Gonna remind ye that this pussy belongs to me.”
She whined, nodding her head frantically. “Missed you so much, Filip.”
He groaned, nodding his head. “Aye, missed ye, Love. Never goin to make ye miss me again. Never gonna fuck this up ever again, Love. Gonna keep ye by my side as long yer willin to have me.”
“Want you forever.” She whined the words so certain, making his heart ache with absolute adoration.
“Aye, forever.” He worked out his eyes locked on her, she by far the most stunning woman he’d ever seen and ever had the privilege of loving. 
She moaned, her hand pulling from his back sliding down her body finding her slick clit. He moaned realizing what she was doing as she began to rub at the bud of nerves so eagerly. “Such a good lass. Touchin that pussy fer me. Jeysus, Love. Play with yer wee clit make yerself cum on this cock.”
She whimpered his words encouraging her, she wanting to make herself cum for him. She wanted him to know how good he made her feel. She wanted him to know he was the only man capable of making her feel so good. 
He spoke becoming lost in lust, the words falling from him, his balls aching knowing he was closer than he’d prefer to be. “Fuckin cum on my cock and let me cum in ye. Fuck, make yerself cum. Wanna fill ye up so bad. Want my cum to drip from ye. Gonna fuckin put yer panties back on ye, not clean ye up even. Want ye to know I’m claimin what’s mine. Gonna be our wee secret, Gonna take ye home on my bike with my cum leakin from ye.”
She moaned at the statement knowing he was truly the only man who could say such absolute filth to her without her feeling bashful. If anything the dirty talk just egged her on.
She’d not had too many partners prior to him but he was by far the best she’d ever had. 
She rubbed her clit knowing just how to touch herself to help her along the path to a release. She’d had more experience in getting herself off before meeting Chibs Telford.
She’d discovered that with Chibs around she rarely had to rely on getting herself off. He was always eager to make her feel incredible even when he was exhausted.
She felt her toes curl at the sensations building up in her, she knowing it wouldn’t be much longer now.  She could feel her orgasm building in her, the fire spreading through her knowing it would burn so hot for him. 
She trembled against him, her thighs growing tense, her body jerking against him. Her fingers did not let up on her clit, her center clenching around his cock eagerly attempting to milk his release from him as she fell over the edge.
She pressed her lips against his a cry leaving her lips as she came.
He moaned the feel of her fluttering around his cock absolute perfection. It did not take long for his own end to sneak up on him, his balls drawing up close to his body, his cock throbbing.
He spilled into her as he fell over the edge, his words spilling against her lips, his accent growing so thick she could not even make out the words. “Fuckin take it, Love. Yer mine.”
She whined the warmth of his release filling her in hot spurts making her shudder against him. She clung on to him, her body feeling weak and so incredibly satisfied. 
He moaned the last of his release, desperately spilling from him into her his own knees feeling wobbly.
He pressed her further into the wall knowing he felt shaky enough that he feared not being able to hold her up as well as he should.
He pressed lazy kisses to her lips a low moan leaving him as he softened enough to slide from her body a shudder leaving him as the cold air hit his spent cock.
He spoke a drowsy giggle leaving him. “Christ, Love. Thank God fer the pill.”
She felt her own giggle leave her, she shaking her head. “Beats the hell out of condoms.” 
He smirked knowing she was the first woman he’d been with in a long while where condoms weren’t an absolute necessity. 
His experiences prior to her had consisted of croweaters who he was so not going into fucking without a rubber. 
He’d made it quite clear to her though that he only had eyes for her and he had a clean bill of health. So the pill had become their main form of contraception until the day they decided they might want to bring a few tiny Telfords into the world.
It was a possibility they’d discussed, and Chibs had been shocked to find that he didn’t mind the idea of possibly giving her a child at some point in the future even if it worried him to know he’d most likely be an older parent.
The idea of her having his child did fill him with an undeniable sense of pride though. 
She lowered her thighs from his hips he continuing to hold her up her knees feeling like jello at the moment.
She rolled her eyes not missing the proud smirk on his lips at the realization that he’d made her so unsteady on her feet especially in heels.
He tucked himself back into his boxers hastily zipping his jeans back up and refastening his belt.
He pressed his lips to hers lowering her dress back down the words leaving him. “Never goin to risk losin ye again, m’love. Need ye in my life. Never fuckin this up ever again. I love ye.”
She placed a hand on his cheek, her lips pressing to his, the words spilling from her. “I love you too, never letting you take the risk of losing me again. You can’t get rid of me, Filip. I’m yours.”
He nodded his head, a sense of comfort washing over him any fears he’d had of tainting her or destroying her seeming way too far away to grasp. “I’m yours. Ye ain’ gettin rid of me either.”
She closed her eyes as he held her against him, rocking her against him soaking up the comfort of belonging to one another.
Her heart once again felt full.
She knew they would not part again. He was hers just as much as she was his.
She would never lose him ever again.
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ediewentmissing · 2 years ago
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Look at this sexy fucking man! Please! For the love of all of the underwear this pic and your stories have helped ruin, I need a fic for this pic! The more dirty talk the better! Just mmmmmmm going to town on him and riding him and guiding his mouth to suck and bite and lick my tits like ahhhhhhhh. Please!!
IM SO SORRY THAT I MISSED THIS i took a break but now i’m back AND HOLY SHITTTTTTTTT AAAAAAAA 😍😍😍 i’ve been rlly busy lately and i’m probably not gonna write very often (sorry 😿) but i wanted to give u something, so i wrote this in approx 6 minutes lmao sub!eddie incoming
“Ah- Shit- Please,” The handcuffs rattle against the headboard as Eddie sucks in through his teeth. His jaw clenches and eyes roll back into his skull as you slowly lower yourself down on his stiff cock.
You’re not quite sure what he’s begging for. More? Less? Who cares.
“Yeah, be a good boy and fucking take it,” You ride back up his length, and back down. And again. And again. He whimpers pathetically, his top row of teeth clamping down on his bottom lip in a foolish attempt to shut himself up.
“Awh,” you coo, “Barely started yet and you’re already a mess. Filthy boy.” His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard, trying his hardest not to burst so quickly. But you’re just so wet, and so tight, and you’re clenching around his cock so deliciously.
“Mmm, fu-uck-” His mouth is open, head tipped back giving you the perfect view of his neck.
“Yeah? You like me using you like this?” He nods, humming.
You still on his cock, and his head jolts upright to look at you with confused, pleading eyes.
“Answer me, Eddie.”
“I- I love it…” you begin to bounce on him at a steady pace, and he moans loudly, “Fuck! God- Fuckin’ Christ. Mmmm- I love you using me. So, so much- Ah, ah-”
“God, look at you, baby…” you smirk down at him. His pupils are fully blown, swallowing the caramel-coloured irises whole. Hot tears run down his rose cheeks, picking up sweat on their way down his face.
You bounce ever so slightly faster, and go in to kiss his neck, sucking and biting that sweet spot that makes him writhe.
“Wait, no, please look at me. Please. I wanna see you.”
You pull off of his throat and look directly into his lustful eyes. Sweaty, hair sticking to his face.
He moves his palms to your abdomen, running his fingers up your torso as he breathes heavily, chest rising and falling, until he reaches your tits.
“So pretty-y~,” he groans.
“Mm, go ahead. Touch ‘em, baby,” you nod, and he carefully trails his thumbs over your nipples, gently squeezing them.
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, involuntarily rutting his hips up into you, moaning.
You lean forward, a non-verbal sign for him to take one in his mouth, and he immediately obliges.
He kisses over your tits, soft, wet clicking sounds being drowned out by his whimpers vibrating against your chest and the skin-slapping-skin noises as you continue to ride him. He drags his tongue over everything, sucking and gasping as his high is in sight.
He bucks his hips up again, this time hitting the special spot inside of you. You clench hard around him, angling yourself to that he can slide deeper inside your aching pussy.
He detaches his lips from your chest, “Fuck, f-fuck, fuck! Haah… I’m-m gonna cum-” he moans, looking at you.
Your climax comes hurtling towards you unexpectedly, and it your pussy grips onto Eddie’s throbbing cock, only fuelling the fire of his orgasm.
He finally releases, warm, thick cum pumping into you at he same time you fall over the edge.
Breathy ‘I love you’s fall from his wet, pink lips. And it was nothing short of the truth. He loved you.
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