#sorry I just saw an edit of her and I was like

[16ferrari]

DOUBLE TROUBLE | LN4

୨୧‎ lando Norris x fem!reader

୨୧‎ summary: lando knows how to push your limits.

୨୧‎ warnings: jealousy, tension, kinda (small kinda) sub!lando, switch!reader, public sexual activity. edited but probably some missed errors

୨୧ a/n; I haven’t written anything in so long, so I’m sorry if this is shit. I’m trying to get back into writing

Lando knew you were possessive about certain things that were yours, and him, well he was the prime example of that. And he fucking loved that.

He knew the correct way to get under your skin and push those buttons. He knew the correct way to use your possessiveness to get you act crazy enough to get exactly what he wanted from you.

Attention and focus on him

He grabbed the closest girl that was near him and pulled her into him. He touched every inch of her, but kept his hands at a safe distance from where she clearly wanted him the most. He kept his gaze on you from across the bar. A stupid smirk laid on his lips as he saw just how red you’d gotten even from the quite distance you both shared.

He moved his hands down her back, touching her hot and sweaty skins. He cringed at the feel, but continued to play the game. She turned around and placed her hands on his shoulders and pulled him in closer, so close he could smell the strong scent of alcohol and cigarettes.

“Wanna get out of here” her voice was practically a moan as she tried to lean forward and bite his neck. He pushed her away once he saw you stand up straight from the bar. He chuckled and walked away from the dance floor, making a beeline to you.

“What’s wrong love?. you look a bit flushed” he placed the back of his hand against your forehead feeling just how warm you’d gotten. “You’re very warm, you feeling sick” he teasingly asked, ordering a drink from the bar.

“I hate you” you muttered under your breath, body relaxing after seeing the girl who was still waiting for him to return to her, walk away after she saw him return to you.

“She wanted to fuck you, you know right’’ you took the shot he’d ordered and drank it.

“Of course i knew, wanted to see you break into pieces before you got to where you are now’’

You rolled your eyes at him. “Oh, honey. You’re in huge trouble” he sucked in a deep breath. his face turning more redder than it was before. You ran your fingers up and down his leg, chuckling when you saw his chest start heaving fast.

“You know I hate when you do shit like this lando” you nibbled on his ear, hand disappearing underneath his white dress shirt he wore. He shuddered as he felt your hand trail down his abs.

“Oh, Fuck, I’m sorry” he groaned. His hand grabbing onto your back, pulling you more into him. “Can we leave now” he begged, pants becoming so uncomfortablely tight he wanted them off him.

You laughed and pulled away from him, placing a quick kiss to his cheek. “Nope, you’re gonna feel my suffering honey.’’ You left him at the bar by himself, walking into the crowd of people and grabbed the nearest guy. You turned around and backed into him, dancing to the beat. You let him rub his dirty and disgusting hands all over your body.

Lando felt his heart beat speed up with anticipation and desperation. You continued dancing with the unknown, swinging your hips everywhere and even unbuttoned his shirt so you could feel his abs.

You danced for what felt like forever, until you felt a hand pulling you away from the crowd in a rush.

“we’re leaving’’ you smiled behind his back as he led you outside. His voice was heavy and breathy.

“What’s wrong, did something happen that you didn’t like’’ you jokingly pouted at him, “poor you”

He looked around before he pushed you into the dark alley. Before anything could fall from your lips, he pushed you up against the wall. Lips crashing onto yours roughly.

He pushed your dress up your thigh as he wrapped your leg around his waist. He broke the kiss to place kisses down your jaw to your neck. You moaned throwing your head back against the brick wall as you felt his teeth sink into your neck.

“m’ so sorry” his hand disappeared underneath your dress. Fingertips messing with the black panties you wore. “Do you forgive me, love”

“Debating on whether I should- fuck” you felt him push aside your panties, “what you pulled tonight” he rubbed light circles on your clit.

“Will never happen again, I’m sorry” he spoke against your lips. Biting onto them, causing you to whine in pain. “will you do that again” you laughed, firmly grabbing onto his hair while pushing him down to his knees.

“Baby, of course not. But you bought this onto yourself, now-“ you threw your leg over his shoulder, and tugged up your dress even more as he could settle between your legs.

“You will make it up to me, right” you softly ceased his face.

“Yes ma’am”

[joeliz99]

“You, Always.”- Danny Ramirez

Warnings: Slowburn, Friends to lovers, RPF fic, Fluff, Multi-part series

(In case you missed the first four chapters, click here)

Part Two

Where we begin again

Fifth Chapter

Three months after NYC. A summer in Miami. No time like the present.

Danny was back in his hometown for two weeks, a short but much-needed break before diving back into work and a massive new project that awaited him. The first few days were spent with family, relaxing and recharging. But as his second and final week approached, he couldn’t shake the thought of (Y/N), who now lived in Miami as well. He hadn’t heard from her since he’d texted her his number, and since both of them were over-thinkers, they hadn’t managed to spark a real conversation over text.

That night, lying in bed, Danny couldn’t help but reach out, sending her a text message before he regretted it for good.

"Hey (Initial)! Hope you're doing well. I’m in town for a couple of weeks and thought it’d be nice to catch up if you're up for it. Let me know what you think. See you soon! :)"

When (Y/N) saw his message, she froze for a moment. It had been a while since they last spoke, and she hadn’t expected him to reach out after sometime. She’d wanted to respond right away, but her schedule was packed. Hours passed, and though she saw the ‘read’ status on her phone, she couldn’t find the right words or moment to just do it.

Danny, after noticing hours had passed, began to doubt himself. Maybe he had misread the whole scenario. Perhaps she really wasn’t as interested in reconnecting as he’d hoped.

In reality, it wasnt that she wasn’t interested. She was just busy and, honestly, a little overwhelmed by it all. The next evening, after mentally editing her response a few times, she hit ‘send.’

"Hey! Sorry for the late reply. I’ve been caught up this weekend, but let’s plan something for the week. What are you in the mood for?"

Thursday of that same week, (Y/N) hurried through the streets of Miami, trying to get to the ice cream shop on time. Of course, today of all days, everyone at the office had needed something from her, pushing her lunch break nearly twenty minutes late. Now, someone was already waiting for her.

As she neared the shop, she slowed her pace, taking a deep breath to regain her composure. Outside, Danny sat at a table, focused on his phone, his posture relaxed. (Y/N) adjusted her purse and walked toward him, catching his attention as she approached.

“Oh hey! You made it.” A smile spread across his face as he stood, greeting her with a side hug and a quick kiss on the cheek.

“I’m so, so sorry. Work’s been crazy today—I hope you don’t mind the change of plans.”

Danny laughed, shaking his head. “Not at all. I’m chill with whatever. It’s good to see you.”

(Y/N) smiled as they headed inside, scanning the array of ice cream flavors.

“You eat anything yet?” Danny asked after a beat.

She shook her head, still focused on the options in front of her.

“Want to grab something else first?”

“What? No, no. I’m good. Ice cream’s better than real food anyway.”

Danny shot her a half-smile, clearly unconvinced. She caught the look and glanced back at him.

“I like your hair,” she said, changing the subject. “It looks longer than the last time I saw you. Actually, I think this is the longest I’ve ever seen it on you.”

“Oh, yeah.” He ran a hand through it absently. “I have to shave it all off for a project, so I figured I’d just let it do its thing for now.”

“Are you serious? What a waste of good lucious hair.”

Danny laughed, shaking his head as they paused to place their orders.

Outside the day felt warm and with a thick scent of freshly baked waffle cones wafting from the shop behind them. (Y/N) and Danny sat down on a bench and entertained themselves in a casual conversation while the occasional murmur of passing conversations mixed with the distant hum of traffic.

“So, I’m kind of curious… Where do you work again? I don’t think we ever talked about that.”

(Y/N) pulled the spoon from her mouth, tilting her head as she considered the question. “I work at a marketing agency as a Content Production Assistant. I handle all the audio editing for their productions and stuff like that.”

Danny hummed, nodding as he swirled his spoon through the melting edges of his ice cream. “That sounds cool. Do you like it?”

She hesitated. “I guess… yeah. It’s not exactly where I want to be, but I don’t mind it. It pays the bills, I’m getting real-world experience, and I’ve gotten more comfortable with my work. I just wish I had more time for my own projects.”

Danny took a slow breath, his gaze drifting toward her, resting his elbows on his knees. “You’ll get there,” he said. “When I got out of college, I struggled bad. At one point, I was juggling three jobs while still trying to stay on top of auditions and callbacks. I was desperate for anything.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “It took me a long time to get to where I am now, and honestly? I still feel like I’m barely getting by.”

“Shut up.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes with a smile. “You’re doing amazing.”

Danny turned to her with a smirk, tapping his spoon against his cup. “Yeah? So that means you’ve seen me on TV?”

Her posture stiffened. She licked her lips, suddenly more focused on her ice cream as she stole a quick glance at him.

“Ohhh, so you have!” His grin widened.

“Uhh…” She stayed quiet, gauging his reaction. “Actually… I haven’t. Like… at all.”

Danny’s smile faltered. “Wait, are you serious?”

(Y/N) bit her lip, suppressing a laugh when she noticed the slight flush creeping onto his cheeks.

“This is embarrassing… Why would you say I’m good if you’ve never seen me?!”

“Because!” She laughed, nudging him with her elbow. “I’ve seen you in your element. I know you’re good.”

Danny exhaled dramatically, slouching back against the bench. “Okay. I’m done with this conversation.”

“No, no! Wait.” She nudged him again, her grin playful. “I actually do want to know what you’re working on. Are you gonna tell me about your next project?”

Danny turned his head slightly, giving her an exaggerated, unimpressed look before shaking his head.

“Oh, come on. Don’t be such a baby, Danny. I said I’m sorry.” She playfully punched his arm, and though he said nothing, a small smile crept onto his face.

“Well, it’s good that you’re sorry… but I really can’t say anything for legal reasons.”

“Oh.” She blinked at him.

Danny smirked, barely holding back a laugh.

“Guess you’ll just have to wait until it’s out in theaters.”

(Y/N) was about to fire back a playful remark, entertained by the easy rhythm of their conversation, when her phone started to ring. She ignored it at first, hoping it would stop on its own. It did—only for a series of text messages to pop up on her screen.

Her eyes scanned the messages quickly, and as she reached the last one, her expression shifted.

“Are you serious?” she muttered, exhaling sharply as she read it again.

Danny, catching the change in her demeanor, leaned slightly toward her. “You have to go?”

She nodded with a frown. “Yeah… Apparently, my lunch break was supposed to be shorter today whether I wanted to or not. We have a last-minute client meeting, and I have to be there.” The disappointment was clear in her voice. “I’m really sorry, Danny.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault.” He smiled, already standing up and taking the empty cup from her hands to toss it in the trash. “At least we got to hang out for a bit. We’ll plan something next time I’m in Miami.”

“Right… Sure.” She tried to return his smile, though it came out a little sheepish. Leaning in, the girl gave him a small hug. “Thanks for reaching out. We’ll stay in touch, alright?”

“Sounds good to me. Now go before they call you again.”

(Y/N) nodded, waving once before hurrying back toward her job. Danny stood there for a beat, hands in his pockets, watching her go before turning in the opposite direction.

But as she walked, something nagged at her. It had all felt too short and too fast. Even more-so when she had taken her sweet time to actually plan something decent with him. And now, the reality settled in—she probably wouldn’t see him again for months. Maybe longer.

Before she could overthink it, she pulled out her phone and dialed his number.

Danny glanced at his screen, momentarily confused. Had she called by mistake? Still, he answered.

“You butt-dialed me or something?” His laughter was the first thing she heard.

“No, not really.” She hesitated only for a second. “When exactly are you leaving Miami?”

“In two days.” His tone shifted slightly, curiosity creeping in. “Why?”

“Are you busy tomorrow afternoon?”

“Uh, no, not really. I was just gonna spend the day with my mom. Why?”

“Would she hate me if I stole you for a couple of hours?”

Danny let out a chuckle. “I doubt she’d hate you for any reason in the world, to be honest.”

(Y/N) smiled, knowing damn well he was right about that.

“Then I’ll see you tomorrow after five. I’ll send you the details later, okay?”

“Sounds perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow, Miss (Initial).”

“See you tomorrow. Bye.”

As she hung up, a smile tugged at her lips, her chest suddenly feeling lighter. What she didn’t know was that on the other end of the call, Danny felt the exact same way. After all, maybe going back to being friends wasn’t going to be as hard as it seemed.

The next day rolled in, and thankfully, (Y/N) was on time and much more relaxed than the day before. She waited at the park, casually snacking as she watched people stroll by, some walking, others riding bikes along the path. The sun was beginning to set, casting a golden hue over the scene, and the usual Miami heat had softened under the evening breeze.

Just as a new playlist started playing in her earphones, she felt a tap on her shoulder. She pulled out one earbud and glanced over her shoulder.

“Hey,” Danny greeted her with an easy smile.

“Oh, hi!” Her own smile mirrored his as she took a quick look at him from head to toe, checking if he was dressed for the occasion. He was—comfortable athletic wear, a hat, and, as always, the same chain resting on his chest.

“Let’s go. We’ve got places to be!” she announced, already starting to walk.

Danny chuckled, shaking his head at how naturally she spoke to him, as if they had just seen each other minutes ago. He followed her lead, still unsure of their destination, until they stopped in front of a rollerblade rental shop.

“You’re kidding.” He looked from the skates to her, eyebrows raised. “Are we roller skating?”

(Y/N) nodded nonchalantly.

He let out a laugh. “Did it even cross your mind that I might not know how to do that?”

“You don’t?” She tilted her head, though she didn’t seem all that concerned.

“I do,” he admitted. “But you didn’t know that.”

“I guessed.” She simply shrugged. “ I don’t, by the way. Figured it would be a good time to try it out.”

Danny stared at her, half amused, half baffled. “Bro, what? Are you crazy?” He laughed again, shaking his head. “I cannot wait to see how this ends. You’re unbelievable.”

(Y/N) finally laughed, not bothering to argue as she went ahead with the rental process. Before he could protest further, she handed him a pair of skates and dragged him back toward the park, just steps away from Miami Beach.

They sat on a bench, helping each other lace up their skates. Danny stood first, testing his balance before extending both hands toward her.

“Alright, come on,” he said, steady and sure. “Let’s see if you survive this.”

(Y/N) took his hands, already laughing as she wobbled to her feet.

The moment (Y/N) was fully standing, she realized she had made a mistake.

Her feet wobbled dangerously beneath her, rolling in opposite directions as she clung onto Danny’s hands for dear life.

“Oh—oh no, wait—” she stammered, trying to steady herself.

Danny, already grinning, barely held back a laugh.

“Oh, this is bad” he said dramatically, his grip tightening to keep her upright. “I thought I was gonna have to help you a little but you might actually die.”

“Shut up!” she whined, struggling to find her balance. “This is harder than it looks!”

Danny, completely at ease on his skates, skated backward while still holding onto her, making it look effortless.”

“See, the key is—”

Before he could finish his sentence, (Y/N) yelped as her foot slid forward too fast, and just like that—bam—she hit the pavement.

For a split second, there was silence.

Then, Danny lost it

“Oh my god—” He doubled over, laughing so hard he had to brace himself against his knees. “That was amazing. I wish I had my phone out.”

(Y/N) groaned from the ground. “ Can you please not?! “

“No, no, I’m motivating you,” he said between chuckles, offering her a hand. “Come on, get up. Let’s try this again.”

She took his hand and, with his help, got back on her feet. This time, she lasted about ten seconds before her legs betrayed her again.

Thud.

Danny clutched his stomach, laughing even harder.

“I swear—” (Y/N) glared at him from the ground. “If you laugh one more time—”

“Sorry, sorry!” He wiped a fake tear from his eye. “I’m done, I swear. Come on champ. Get up.”

He held out a hand again, and after a second, she narrowed her eyes at him but took it anyway.

“Alright,” This time Danny pulled her closer so she had no choice but to hold onto his shoulders for support. “We’re gonna take this slow. No sudden movements.”

(Y/N) nodded seriously, gripping onto him like her life depended on it.

“Good.” He smirked. “Now… say ‘Wheee!’”

She blinked. “What?”

He suddenly pushed off, skating forward with her clinging onto him.

“Danny, NO!”

Her scream echoed through the park as he burst out laughing all over again.

Two very long hours passed—and after an embarrassing number of falls—(Y/N) finally started to get the hang of it. She still wasn’t graceful, and Danny never missed an opportunity to have fun with it, but at least she could move without immediately wiping out.

By the time they returned their skates, both of them were starving. So, without much thought, they walked to a nearby burger spot, grabbed their food, and made their way to the now-dark beach.

The sound of the waves filled the quiet space as they sat down on the sand, shoes off, letting the night breeze cool them down. Danny took a big bite of his burger, chewing thoughtfully before turning to (Y/N).

"Alright, I’ll admit it," he said, stretching his legs out in front of him. "That was way more fun than I expected. Even if you’re all bruised up and traumatized after it.

(Y/N) scoffed, nudging his arm. "You know what? You’re actually a hater. There’s no need to mention that stuff.”

Danny laughed, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah. But seriously, this was great. We need to do it again."

(Y/N) smiled, resting her chin on her knee as she looked out at the water. "I’d love to. Just gotta figure out when we’ll actually be in the same city again."

Danny hummed in agreement. "Yeah… schedules are a pain. But we’ll make it work. Even if it takes months, we’ll plan something.”

"Deal," (Y/N) said, holding out her pinky.

Danny grinned and locked his pinky with hers without hesitation. "Deal."

For a moment, neither of them said anything, just enjoying the cool breeze and the comfortable ease between them.

However long it took, they both knew this wouldn’t be the last time.

————————————-

Still wanting to read more? Here are some other Danny’s shots to read. You’re welcome!!!

[whitefeathers]

I need Victoria Neuman carnally rn she’s so bad LOOK AT HER

MDNI, cw: face sitting, mommy kink, sexual neglect

Image her absolutely smothering your face with her pussy while she types away and does work she says is too smart for you to understand, be a good girl and do what you do best and serve mommy, yeah? And she doesn’t wanna cum, she just wants to feel your tongue lapping at her while she works, licking up over her clit and ignoring your own needy cunt bc mommy knows best :((

[swiftviolets]

INTRODUCING… by The Saints (1968)

INTRODUCING… is the The Saints’ debut and only album which was released in the summer of 1968 to local acclaim. The album is mostly garage rock with elements of blues, containing original songs penned mostly by Andy and Warren, as well as a few covers. It was a major hit in New Orleans and the surrounding areas, even entering the Billboard 200 album chart, where it peaked at 97.

[imogenkol]

KINCADE PACK 🐺 (original works) — “The name goes back centuries, and all Miranda cares about is making sure it lasts for many more”

[template by @tommyarashikage]

tag list (ask to be added or removed!): @adelaidedrubman @florbelles @simonxriley @voidika @kyberinfinitygems @voidbuggg @inafieldofdaisies @statichvm @socially-awkward-skeleton @aceghosts @carlosoliveiraa @risingsh0t @unholymilf @thedeadthree @cassietrn @jackiesarch @a-treides @shellibisshe @loriane-elmuerto @katsigian @captastra @simplegenius042 @theelderhazelnut @g0dspeeed @leviiackrman @strangefable @jacobseed

[yagurlhere]

WARNING:SPOILERS!

"NOOOO! LIGHTBULB!!!!! 😭"

"LIGHTBULB ANGST!!!!! 😭"

"LIGHTBRUSH ANGST!!!!!! 😭"

"THIS HURTS SO MUCH!!!! 😭"

"I'M CRYING!!!!!! 😭"

"PAINTBRUSH CRYING!!!!! 😭"

"MY HEART!!!!! 😭"

Me: FINALLY.

[mikhailoism]

twt made me think of this but we were really robbed of really good bathena angst of 4x13/14... like the first the fight and then bobby getting shot.. tbh how they did resolve the fight was slightly disappointing i mean it works but I wanted more i wanted a bigger conversation that went way deeper into why they were even distant and fighting in the first place and that's a whole thing

but now imagine more angst purposes they take longer to resolve their fight. they're preoccupied by eddie and figuring out the sniper case and they just avoid each other . then we flash towards the trap and bobby getting stuck and shot and athena helpless outside knowing that he could die in there and the last conversation they had was a fight and how their marriage is possibly failing... and that can't be how it ends bc even tho things are rough she still loves bobby and wants to be with him she can't do it without him. I feel like also gives her even stronger motivation to take over someone's gear and go into the fire for him. it makes this move and her saying she needs her partner have so much more impact and meaning (not that it didn't originally but) and on bobby's side he's possibly dying in this fire terribly injured knowing how bad he left things with athena, regretting the fight regretting hiding things like sponsoring Rachel and wishing so badly he could change things so it wouldn't end like this (something about bobby facing death and focusing on his regrets and what he could have done better)

and the relief of athena appearing in the flame to save him. they may not be In perfect place but she'll always come and save him she'll always be there for him. and then once they're out and safe and in the hospital there will be a real conversation, they'll talk in depth about athena's attack and the affects it had on them both. about their struggles with communication how its not communication they're used, they'll talk about bobby sponsoring rachel and more on why he hid it (I think theres more to it and then just trying to get back at athena so to speak) and they talk about what it means to them personally being partners being married... basically just more in depth and detail version of their canon conversation sorta but better and they actually talk about everything else

[im-out-of-it]

shadowhunters show should’ve asked for volunteers to help write the storylines because I ME MYSELF AND I WOULD HAVE VOLUNTEERED AND I WOULD HAVE DISMISSED SOME OF THE WRITERS BECAUSE I HAVE GRAND IDEAS

I just started season two and it’s been a migraine already 😭 like Alec has such patience because I would have had him going off on jace

THIS MAN HAS ALMOST DIED TWICE FOR JACE AND FOR WHAT?????????

I do think Alec tells people off as he should but I don’t think it’s enough. guaranteed, it’s a shit ton more than book Alec but how has he not lost his mind? I know for fucking sure that Alec did not get paid enough to deal with any of that. and there isn’t enough Advil to cure Alec of his migraines he has daily because of jace and clary

SEND THEM BOTH TO IDRIS STAT

at least I can count on Magnus

and at least alec goes off on clary but-

I JUST WISH ALEC WOULD GO OFF ON JACE BECAUSE YOUR BESTIE SHOULDNT BE MAKING YOUR LIFE THAT MISERABLE

Alec shouldn’t be on his deathbed TWICE in over just 14 bloody episodes

if I was hired, I would have cut that CLACE shit out and have Alec stand up for himself. actually have the downworlders featured more. and I stated this before, but I would have loved to see Alec or Izzy have the more powerful gifts because I’ve had enough of basic bitches thinking they’re normal and then taking advantage of those supposed gifts when they find out they have power. it’s boring, tiresome, been overdone too much

but imagine how much better the show could’ve been if they rid as much of CLACE as possible?????? (also just get the whole rights because I would love TID and TLH adapted but not if CC is behind it) (she would destroy it)

and all the book fans would be so angry lmao

no I’m just saying like it makes me mad how much Alec sacrifices himself for jace and for what? why are we sacrificing so much here? Jace continues to make stupid choice after another and he almost pays zero consequences for it?????? everyone is so determined to save his life and clary’s????? FOR WHAT?????? Alec got his ass handed so many times in season one and I haven’t seen anyone as much apologize, show gratitude for Alec, or change their behavior towards him. Jace told Alec that his best wasn’t good enough- so why are we having Alec save jace over and over again?????

I’m glad they made the lightwoods the stars because they obviously didn’t get good treatment in the books. LOVE MY FAV FAMILY (and yes I will hate on the herondales because they deserve it. I don’t care if they have golden eyes or if CC views them as the best. they’re abusive (most) and never change their ways and think it’s okay to treat others as if they’re beneath them)

I’m ending my rant but they both irritate the fucking soul out of me. Jace is supposed to be so strong and powerful but both he and clary would be dead without Alec Izzy magnus etc trio and I’ve seen on an occasion where Alec kept up with Jace in terms of fighting

me anytime I see jace:

but I can appreciate the show for doing what they could’ve without totally changing the whole concept of the series. because jace and clary book versions are absolutely insufferable. if anyone has never read the books or haven’t in a while, you’ll be amazed at how atrocious their book versions are. and Alec hardly ever stands up for himself there. like you’ll watch the show and think wow some of this is cringe and then appreciate it after you read the books because ITS NOT THAT BAD LMAO

no because I always get so vexed with clary and Jace show versions but then I think about their book counterparts and then I’m like ok so it could’ve been worse 😭

I’m for real done but I’m just here for Malec so everyone, carry on

I’ll need to stock up on Advil for the upcoming CLACE scenes PLEASE KEEP ME IN YOUR THOUGHTS

[bmpmp3]

holy FUCK IA's voisona 2.0 is OUT

[direwombat]

tagged by @socially-awkward-skeleton, @baldurrs, @inafieldofdaisies, @madparadoxum and @strafethesesinners to do this picrew

tagging (and i apologize for double tags, i know this one has been going around) @adelaidedrubman, @strangefable, @fourlittleseedlings, @detectivelokis, @sstewyhosseini, @kittiofdoom, @aceghosts, @purplehairsecretlair, @confidentandgood, @deputyash, @harmonyowl, and anyone else who i missed/wants to do this one!

top: deputy sybille la roux (fc5) having another bad day | jonah seed (fc5) scheming and about to feed his snakes dinner | kentucky burbage (c*d) getting into a fight and loving every second of it

middle: paola orsini (uncharted) suffering in scotland | ari vasquez-sullivan (uncharted) taking in the beauty of a lost city despite her bloody nose | darby wells (tow) looking cute and admiring the stars

bottom: katherine vogel (rdr2) as a proto-disney princess | henrietta graves (rdr2) totally not holding a vial of poison | cwenhild (ac: valhalla) presenting eivor with some medicinal flowers

[sickgraymeat]

Phineas and Ferb is so iconic bc really the only relatable or multidimensional characters are the antagonists and like all the others are (75% comically exaggerated stereotype, 15% nonsense, 10% comically direct contradiction of the previously established stereotype) but they’re still somehow great characters

[navree]

find it very funny that all the people who are complaining about lois's design in maws and whining about her skin tone or her hair cut had their traps very firmly shut when famously dark haired lois was played by redheaded amy adams who kept the red hair for all of the movies, so what's REALLY your issue here

[intomybubble]

I’m still playing Sims 4 and so I made a household with a Sim of myself so I can try doing a bunch of different careers (for the items lol)

I ended up romancing Don Lothario and accidentally had his kid after downloading and trying out the WW mod (we had 1 date prior, and I asked for him to live in with me afterwards).

I wasn’t paying too much attention to his name (since this was my first time playing Sims 4 since mid 2010s and I don’t know characters or lore), and used the random name generator and named our daughter, Dawn. I did not realize I basically named her after him lol.

As things are now

We’re partners and “soulmates”

I go out to work (currently doing the spy career), while he’s basically my househusband

He was a creative freelancer when he was added to my household so he makes A LOT from paintings, and sometimes music

I gave him an variation of his default everyday outfit to give him glasses (bc I’m into glasses, but “lorewise” he spends more time at a screen for work so he started to need them)

I used a mod to change his “non-committal” trait into being a family man, and bc he’d still get tense from being “non-committal” (despite trying to get rid of it) I got a “carefree” potion from the rewards store RIP

I don’t 100% remember before changing it, but he was a decent dad beforehand. Now, its super cute seeing him chat and play with our daughter

My Sim wants to marry him, but I’ve been worried about him potentially refusing so I’ve just stuck with being “partners”

I did do a wedding on a different household (OC marrying Liberty) and that was a mess especially since I have no idea what I’m doing

I do now have actual venues to use in the future instead of the ugly base game park 👍

I did give my Sim the same necklace that he wears as a sorta “promise ring” in her outfits (I think its cute lol)

Bc I’m stuck on leveling stats, we don’t leave the house that often. But the WW mod has kept things… spicy without actual dates lmao

I think I’m going to try proposing and just having an incredibly long engagement soon…

[balrogballs]

One thing I often think about when it comes to the Jackson films’ fleshing out of the Elrond and Arwen storyline is how in Return of the King, Elrond straight up just admits that he’s seen Arwen’s son through his prophetic visions — presumably a similar scene to the one she saw, but with her instead of Aragorn holding the child.

And yes, obviously the actual point being made there by the film was that Elrond lied to/misled his daughter because he didn’t want her to die.

But can we just take a moment to think about him actually experiencing that vision? That’s his grandson. That’s his grandson. This elf, who once wholly gave his heart to a mortal infant brought into his household, looking into the future and seeing the proof of the love he has given both Aragorn and Arwen. That’s his grandson right there, all of five years old and destined for a more blissful life than any of his ancestors. That’s his heir and Elros’ heir, messing about in a forest with two people whom he loves more than the world. That’s his fucking grandson.

And can you just imagine what it must have been like, coming out of that vision? The cold understanding that this is what it has come to in the end. That his grandson, his very first one, would be the collateral damage of his daughter’s salvation. That out of all the thousands of possible futures knitting about his head, there’s not a single one in which he can save them both.

edit: i’m so sorry here’s some cute grampa elrond content to make up for it

[zarameraki]

♡₊˚🥀₊✧ 𝘀𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮 𝗶𝘀 𝗼𝗯𝘀𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗰𝘂𝗯𝗶𝗻𝗲 ♡₊˚🥀₊✧

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 king x concubine 𖥔 lots of plot with porn 𖥔 mentions of abuse 𖥔 mentions of sexual assault 𖥔 normal form sukuna (sorry yall but next time ill do his big boy one) 𖥔 he only has eyes for you 𖥔 you're his darling 𖥔 he would kill for you 𖥔 breeding (!!!!) 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 smut

: ̗̀➛ words: 8.8k

: ̗̀➛ notes: this took a whole WEEK to edit. im so obsessed with this story. it's my favourite thing ive written because i love period movies and dramas and really got to challenge my writing skills to give it more a fantasy-esque element. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.

The diligent hands of Lord Sukuna Ryomen’s palace attendants scrubbed away the grime that clung to every inch of your weary form. There were no traces of tears in your eyes, despite the discomfort of the cleansing process.

Perhaps it was the residue of gratitude for an escape from a foster family who saw fit to barter you away for a pittance to fuel their vices.

The water surrounding you had transformed into a murky haze, carrying away the evidence of your former life's hardships.

Yet, amidst this cleansing ritual, you couldn’t shake the puzzling thought of why the guards had singled you out from the other young women within the household. Uraume, the overseer of palace affairs, had arrived alongside them, their presence looming over the proceedings with an air of mystery.

That morning, you were subjected to abuse in front of everyone at the central market, longing for someone to stand up for you. And someone did. They offered you an escape from that hellhole and into a world of luxury.

You weren’t going to complain now that you had accepted this new fate of yours.

“Ya’ got too many scars, girl,” remarked one of the elderly attendants, gently assisting you out of the steaming bath, her hands wrapping a towel around your shivering form. “Our powders will struggle to conceal ’em all. How did ya’ come by such marks?”

“From my foster family,” you murmured, gaze fixed upon your toes as if they held the weight of your past. The plush carpet beneath your feet offered a small comfort, a luxury unfamiliar to your upbringing.

Memories of their harsh discipline flooded back—the blistering gravel underfoot as punishment for daring to voice dissent. It was a brutal introduction to a world where obedience was paramount.

“A wretched lot,” the attendant muttered sympathetically.

Enveloped in a silk robe, she led you into a chamber shared by a cohort of women, a realm far removed from the confines of your previous abode. Here, space was ample—the expanse excessive, with beds lining the walls and a high ceiling adorned with a single chandelier.

As you entered, a symphony of pretty faces and inquisitive gazes greeted you. Women of all colours and shapes reclined luxuriously in plain robes, their hair intricately braided or cascading freely down their backs. Conversations paused, curiosity piqued by your arrival, as all eyes turned to welcome you into their midst.

Beneath the weight of their scrutinising stares, you found yourself shrinking. These women, draped in silk and adorned with jewels, were the king's favoured concubines, a fact repeatedly emphasised during your journey to the palace and even in the fragrant confines of the bathhouse.

Every instinct urged you to rebel, to refuse to be just another ornament in the king’s harem, but you understood the value placed on purity by the monarch.

Unfortunately, your innocence had been cruelly stolen from you by your foster father, leaving you tarnished in body and spirit. Lord Sukuna would have no use for a damaged flower in his garden of perfection.

In truth, you couldn’t even imagine an image of his face in your mind. His Lordship remained a mystery to those beyond the palace walls.

“Here ya’ are.” The attendant guided you to your bed. “That vanity there’s yours to use.” She gestured toward the communal area by the window, where two other young women were preparing themselves. “Once your hair dries, one of my girls will assist ya’ in preparin’ for your audience with His Lordship.” Her touch was gentle as she caressed your cheek. “Rest assured, dear, ya’ safe now.”

You attempted a smile, though the effort seemed Herculean amidst your weariness.

As the attendant departed, her scolding to the rowdy girls fading into the background, you nestled into the comforting embrace of your soft bedding, ignoring the hushed criticisms trailing in your wake.

She’s feeble.

Her hair lacks refinement.

The king would never entertain a lowly pauper.

She’ll be gone by tomorrow.

Their words, like venomous serpents, slithered through the air.

Amidst their degradation, you succumbed to exhaustion.

But your slumber was interrupted by the bustling commotion of handmaidens assembling around you.

Disoriented and scarcely given a moment to collect your thoughts, you found yourself swiftly escorted to the vanity, where the clamour of girls jostling for space filled the air.

They manipulated your locks, weaving intricate patterns into your hair, fashioning a crown braid atop your head while allowing the remaining tresses to cascade freely down your back.

Meanwhile, other attendants removed your robe, their hands moving with practised efficiency as they anointed your skin with fragrant oils, infusing it with the delicate essence of lavender.

Between the flurry of activity, the whispers of your fellow concubines hung in the air like a veil of awe and trepidation. Their eyes were drawn to the scars marring your skin, as they speculated about how the king would perceive your imperfections as repulsive.

Good.

You craved precisely that outcome.

If the king recoiled at your sight, it meant he wouldn’t desire you to bear his heir. If the tales circulating in the town about his monstrous nature held any truth, then he’d likely offer you death as a reprieve—and you’d welcome it with open arms.

Before facing the king, you stole a glance at your reflection, the final moments of solitude before your fate was decided. The powder concealed the imperfections of your skin, rendering it smooth and flawless. Your cheeks and lips bore a muted hue reminiscent of crushed cherries. Delicate white blossoms adorned your hair, woven into your braids by nimble fingers.

As you stood, the other women adorned you in a robe of silky fabric, its floral pattern draping over your form, cinched at the waist to accentuate your curves. Barefoot, you followed them out, the chill of the floor beneath your feet a stark contrast to the warmth of anticipation and trepidation swirling within you.

“Good luck, pauper,” taunted one of the concubines, her voice dripping with disdain, echoed by a cacophony of mocking laughter.

Palms clammy with nerves, you shifted your gaze to the opulence of the palace corridors. Adorned with countless chandeliers and swathes of velvet drapery, they offered a stark contrast to the blooming back garden. Memories of tending to the earth and nurturing life back at your foster family’s home flooded your mind.

“Quickly now,” one of the maids urged, her voice tinged with urgency. “His Lordship detests tardiness.”

“I apologise.” You hastened your steps to keep pace with the group of attendants.

She halted before a grand set of double doors, guarded by imposing sentinels clad in formidable armour. With a flick of her wrist, the guards swung the doors open. She gently nudged you forward, and only as you crossed the threshold did the doors seal shut behind you.

You blinked, adjusting to the dimness within, scanning the chamber until your gaze alighted upon a pair of crimson glimmers opposite you. “My Lord?” You inclined your head and took hesitant steps toward the source of those fiery eyes.

“Come closer,” his command echoed through the chamber, sending a shiver down your spine. The low resonance of His Highness Sukuna Ryomen’s voice was unexpectedly rich and velvety. You had envisioned a voice tinged with age, but instead, it possessed a rough texture that awoken something within you.

With hesitant steps, you approached until you stood at the edge of his bed, your fingertips grazing the diaphanous curtains that enveloped him in a cocoon of privacy.

“Closer,” he urged, coaxing you to unveil the enigma lying beyond the veil.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you obeyed, parting the curtains and gracefully crawled onto the mattress. The silkiness of the sheets were a blatant contrast to the roughness of your foster house’s. A pang of guilt tugged at your conscience as you realized the irony of finding solace in this luxurious confinement of being his concubine.

“Enough.” His abrupt order halted your thoughts, drawing your attention back to the present moment.

As commanded, you obediently settled into your posture, folding your legs beneath you in the dimness. Within his shadowed realm, only the luminous crimson irises pierced through the gloom, studying you with an intensity that made your belly churn. Despite the curiosity burning within you, you restrained the impulse to voice your questions. Instead, you settled in the tranquillity that crowded the space between you.

“What is your name?” His inquiry cut through the hushed air.

“Y/N, my Lord.”

As your name slipped from your lips, he captured it delicately, repeating it like a sacred prayer. Each syllable danced on his tongue, imprinting itself upon the very essence of his being. In that moment, you observed a subtle shift—the shadows that had cloaked the chamber seemed to dissipate.

A soft, golden luminescence filtered through the parted curtains, cascading across half of Sukuna’s face.

You blinked in astonishment.

He appeared . . . young?

The age difference between you and him was not a chasm of decades, but rather a modest gap of no less than five years.

Physically, at least.

His appearance was striking, with locks of hair dyed a subdued pink hue, contrasting with a streak of darker shade beneath. His hair was styled into rugged spikes, lending an air of defiance. Intricate black markings adorned his features, tracing a path from his cheekbones down to his chin, while similar patterns wove across his strong shoulder, cascading over his defined pectoral muscles and sculpted abdomen.

As your eyes fell upon him, your heart quickened its pace, each beat a vicious drumming against your ribs. Gone was the expectation of a lord showing the signs of wisdom, with wrinkles upon his brow and a body marked by the passage of time. Instead, before you sat a vision of breathtaking beauty, defying your preconceived notions and leaving you breathless in awe.

With a graceful gesture, he swept aside the curtains, allowing them to unveil his entirety.

The same markings mirrored the other side of his face and cascaded down the length of his body, a mesmerising display of symmetry. Dark bands encircled his wrists, and his nails bore the same deep hue.

Poised against the headboard, he reclined with an air of effortless elegance, one knee raised as his elbow found a comfortable perch, while the other leg extended out. Though he was unclothed, a veil of silk sheets cloaked the lower half of his form.

“Remarkable,” you unknowingly whispered. Your hand clapped over your mouth. “I apologise, my Lord.”

Sukuna’s lips curved into a sinister grin, his flawless teeth gleaming in the golden light. While many would flee at the sight, you remained rooted in place, unable to tear your gaze away. A delicate flush spread across your cheeks, betraying the undeniable attraction simmering between your legs. He was absolutely divine, and the path of being his concubine suddenly didn’t seem so terrible.

Yet, the reality of sharing Sukuna with ten other women loomed over your thoughts like a shadow. The thought of him spreading his affections among so many others kindled a small flame of jealousy within you, mingled with confusion. Why hadn’t he impregnated at least one of them with the promise of an heir?

“Have you not been schooled in the art of lowering your gaze in the presence of nobility, Y/N?”

Your lashes fluttered as you registered your lapse in decorum, hastily averting your gaze. “Forgive me, my Lord, if my oversight has caused offence.” Surely, he wouldn’t punish you for a momentary lapse of admiration.

Would he?

A gentle touch beneath your chin guided your face upward. His fingers spread across your cheek, the warmth nearly forcing you to curve into his touch. Despite the temptation, your eyes remained obediently downward.

“Look at me.”

Your gaze lingered on him, tracing the delicate patterns etched over his cheek, the fiery hue of his irises, the elegant contour of his nose, and the soft curvature of his lips. Never before had you felt such a rousing desire towards any man. Yet fate had chosen to ensnare your heart with the one most forbidden to you.

“You bear a sadness that weighs heavily in your eyes,” he noted softly, his hand descending to the curve of your neck, his thumb caressing the frantic rhythm of your pulse. A low, melodic sound produced from his throat. “Tell me, my love, does the face before you stir fear within your heart?”

“It does not, my Lord. The fear of your appearance holds no dominion over me,” you declared with quiet resolve. “You’re quite . . . beautiful.”

Sukuna’s gaze sparked with a mixture of surprise and intrigue at your response.

Suppressing a nervous gulp, you silently reprimanded yourself for speaking so boldly to one of noble rank. Back in the confines of your former life, such defiance would have earned you swift punishment, yet here, in the presence of royalty, it could lead to your demise.

As you prepared to avert your gaze, ready to accept whatever consequences may come, Sukuna’s voice cut through the tense air before you could retreat.

“Don’t.”

In that moment, you found yourself questioning your instincts.

Why did you not cower in fear? Why did your body not tremble in the presence of a man who had slaughtered the lives of his enemies without hesitation? And most perplexing of all, how could you maintain unwavering eye contact with a figure of such formidable power?

“Remove your robe.” His grip remained firm around your throat, his thumb delicately tracing your pulse. “And do not stray your gaze elsewhere.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Your fingers loosened the fabric’s bindings, allowing it to cascade down your frame, and revealing the soft curvature of your form beneath. As it pooled around your lap, your breasts stood exposed to his scrutiny.

A shiver danced across your skin as his eyes traced the contours of your body, a faint smirk teasing his lips.

He brushed back strands of your hair, his touch trailing down your vertebrate. His eyes narrowed into thin slits, brows knitted together in contemplation, fingers repeatedly tracing the ridges of your scars.

“Turn around.”

The dreaded discovery that sent ripples of revulsion through the concubines had finally come to pass. Your scars lay exposed before the gaze of a powerful lord. Not only would he slit your throat, but also those of the maids who had tended to your needs, and perhaps even Uruame, who had brokered your purchase from the bastards responsible for your imperfections.

“Never before have I been compelled to repeat myself for a concubine.” His voice carried a lethal edge as he increased his grip around your throat. “Turn the fuck around.”

Your compliance came in slow, measured movements as you turned away, presenting your back to him in a gesture of submission. His hands gathered the strands of your hair, lifting them aside to reveal the raw truth etched into your skin. His fingers traced the jagged remnants of whip lashes, the seared imprints of cigars, and the cruel reminders of knife wounds inflicted by a foster father turned tormentor.

Silent tears traced a path down your cheeks, as you sat in a state of numbness, your gaze fixed upon the closed door of Sukuna’s chamber.

A tender sensation, soft and moist, grazed your back, prompting a reflexive twitch in your left shoulder.

Turning slightly, you beheld Sukuna pressing his lips against the scar that marred your shoulder blades.

“My Lord—”

“I did not ask you to speak,” he murmured over your skin, sending a tremor through your frame. “Rise onto your knees.”

Obeying his command, you ascended onto your knees, feeling the weight of his hands settle upon your waist. His lips trailed a path of reverence, bestowing kisses upon each mark that scarred your skin, from your marrow to your nape.

Your breath caught in a delicate dance of exhales, a whispered symphony escaping your parted lips. The wet caress of his tongue sent ripples of sensation coursing through your being.

His arm circled your waist, drawing you into the sanctuary of his embrace. A fleeting kiss graced the nape of your neck, followed by the suction of his lips upon the tender side of your neck. His soft hands possessively held the curve of your breasts, cradling their weight.

Your head reclined against his strong shoulder.

With his gaze fixed upon you, his lips glistened with a hint of moisture, while his crimson eyes locked onto your own human-like ones. You dared not divert your gaze as he previously ordered. His fingers pinched and pulled at your nipples, sending lightning strikes through your frame.

Unlike the non-consensual encounter of the past, there was no hint of agony; only a tantalising blend of pleasure that left you breathless, without a protest or helpless whimper. Instead, a sigh of pure rapture escaped your lips, encompassing your body in an embrace.

Sukuna’s gaze narrowed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as if he had stumbled upon a long-sought treasure.

His fingertips skated down your torso, gliding toward your centre. You captured your bottom lip between your teeth. Holding his gaze became a daunting challenge as he skillfully teased your sensitive nub, causing your breath to quicken and your chest to rise and fall with each exhilarating sensation.

Sukuna slid his middle finger into you. “You’re incredibly drawn, Sad Eyes,” he murmured, the endearment he had bestowed upon you almost provoking a smile. His lips grazed your ear as he continued. “Perhaps I should stretch you out”—he pushed in his ring finger, forcing a sharp gasp to tear from your throat and an involuntary arch of your body against his chest—“so that your cunt is able to welcome my cock.”

You stifled the knot rising in your throat as Sukuna plunged his fingers into you. Such profound bliss seemed inconceivable with mere digits alone.

“My Lord.” Your breath caught as he increased his tempo. “My—” Each thrust intensified the knot in your stomach, threatening to unravel you entirely. You teetered on the brink, dangerously close to staining his fingers with your release. A sharp gasp choked out of you as he struck a wondrous chord deep within. “Please, my Lord. I beg of you— I will soil your hand if you persist—” But your plea dissolved into a cry of ecstasy before you could utter another word.

Sukuna’s laughter danced teasingly in the hollow of your ear, leaving you utterly spellbound.

You were overheated, overstimulated, overridden by the explosive undoing from his fingers. Breathless and consumed by lust, your world spun as he seized your jaw and crushed his lips to yours.

In that electrifying moment, his tongue invaded your mouth, initially startling you, yet you surrendered to the rhythm.

Sukuna leaned back slightly after planting a tender peck on your lips. Exhaling softly, he threaded his fingers through your hair, his touch sending shivers down your spine. As his lips met yours once more, gentler this time, your hand ventured to trace the contours of his adorned chest.

“You are quite the vixen.” A playful glint danced in his eyes. “How valiant of you to seduce a lord into bestowing kisses upon his concubine.” A broad smile graced his lips, leaving you uncertain whether his words were playful jest or genuine admiration.

“Do you not bestow your kisses upon all your concubines, my Lord?”

“I do not pleasure their cunts, either.”

His speech carried the brashness of a tempest, a departure from the expected decorum one associated with royalty. Sukuna Ryomen defied conventions. It was a trait uncommon among lords, yet one that intrigued you deeply. His demeanour, both in battle and in the intimate confines of the bedchamber, lacked the softening. But you found yourself drawn to his unfiltered honesty, appreciating the absence of cryptic notions.

As you sat before him, considering your next words carefully, a surge of courage emboldened you to reveal your truth.

“My Lord,” you began, your voice quivering with uncertainty, “I . . . I am not pure.”

“Given the sounds you were drawing out,” he quipped with a chuckle, “I wouldn’t have surmised otherwise.” He assisted you in rising from where you rested against his chest, positioning you before him. Observing your solemn expression, he arched an eyebrow in curiosity. “Was your satisfaction not fulfilled?”

“Indeed, my Lord, it surpassed any expectation,” you confessed, worrying your lip as he sighed impatiently. “But I must disclose . . . I am not chaste.”

Sukuna’s response was subdued, save for the faint twitch in his jaw. He averted his gaze from yours momentarily, reaching for the decanter on his bedside table and pouring himself a measure of spirits.

“Speak,” he instructed, his tone clipped.

“It occurred before I reached maturity,” you murmured softly, your arms wrapped protectively around yourself. “My foster father—” Your words faltered as Sukuna raised a hand, a silent acknowledgment of his comprehension of your unspoken anguish.

“I need not hear more.” He swiftly consumed the crimson liquid in a single gulp. “You are dismissed for the night.”

“But my Lord’s desires remain unmet—”

“Leave,” he commanded, his tone final and unwavering.

With a gulp, you hastily gathered your robe around your form, delicately extricating yourself from his expansive bed.

Just as you thought to retreat, a firm hand seized your wrist, drawing you back into Sukuna’s embrace. His lips melded with yours in an intoxicating kiss, causing both your gazes to flutter open when he pulled away. A faint smirk played upon his lips as he adjusted the robe over your shoulder.

“Next time,” he murmured, plucking a flower from the adornments in your hair and placing it upon his bedside, “you shall grace my chambers without such distracting embellishments upon yourself.”

“As you wish, my Lord,” you replied with a respectful bow of your head, awaiting his dismissal until he gestured for you to depart with a casual wave of his hand.

In the shared chambers, your fellow concubines swirled around your bed, eager to hear of your inaugural encounter with Lord Sukuna.

Each girl shared their own vivid tales, painting scenes of ecstasy under the cloak of darkness, where the king’s touch invoked sensations akin to celestial bodies colliding, or where unfamiliar pleasures erased the boundaries of their throat—whatever that latter entailed.

Though a twinge of jealousy flickered within you, it was swiftly overshadowed by a swell of pride. The concubines pleasured Sukuna in darkness, the same darkness you had willingly entered, before his touch had set ablaze a world of gold for you.

They were merely beautiful means of physical gratification for their lord, devoid of the intimacy you shared—his fingers delving deep into your core. And never had any of them spoken of kisses exchanged. Sukuna had spoken true when you questioned if others received similar treatment.

But why you?

Why, after a mere span of ten hours within the palace walls, did you find yourself, dare you entertain the notion, as his favoured? What magic did you possess that drew him to you, and how had you managed to seduce his lips, his fingers, to meet yours in such an intimate embrace?

“Did he spend himself inside you?” one of the girls whispered, prodding your knee to rouse you from your silence.

“No.”

“Aye, he never does,” remarked a golden-haired girl with a resigned sigh. “He sees to it that we consume some berries afterward, claiming they prevent conception. Strange, isn’t it? Especially if he’s so eager for an heir.”

Another girl hushed her, leaning in with a conspiratorial tone. “Did he take you from behind? That’s his favoured position, you know. He’s had us all that way.”

You stumbled over your words, unsure how to respond.

“And did you savour his taste?” came the next question. “It’s quite rich in sodium—”

“Girls!” A booming voice echoed from the doorway of the bedroom, startling you and the other concubines into immediate attention. You caught sight of the elderly attendant who oversaw your care, hands planted firmly on her hips as she observed the chaotic scene before her.

With a disapproving huff, she pivoted sharply on her heel and departed, leaving a lingering sense of reprimand in her wake.

As the frenzied chatter about Sukuna’s body attributes gradually dissolved into the quietude of sleep, morning arrived with its routine of communal showerings.

Throughout the shared bath, you silently scrubbed away the remnants of the night, indulging your fellow concubines about your previous life in town.

Upon drying off and exiting the bathing chamber, you were met with an unexpected sight: a gathering of the girls clustered around your bed.

Navigating through the throng, you reached your space to discover a resplendent scarlet silk robe embroidered with intricate black floral patterns.

Gingerly lifting the note placed atop the fabric, you read Sukuna’s precise handwriting. Curious glances from the other concubines peered over your shoulders in anticipation.

No distracting embellishments, Sad Eyes.

“What does that mean?” a curious whisper floated through the air, followed by murmurs of intrigue from the other girls. “Why does he call you ‘sad eyes’?”

You clutched the letter to your chest, suppressing a grin as you ignored the questions, the mockery, and the jostling of bodies around you. Your attention was fixated on the magnificent robe gifted to you by His Lordship.

For the remainder of the evening, you slept without any interruptions, seeking to compensate for the countless nights spent battling insomnia within the confines of your foster home.

You observed with a keen eye that none of the other girls were ushered to Sukuna’s chambers; their time seemed to veer toward strolls in the back garden or spent in the dormitory, indulging in wine-fueled scandals about the palace staff, as was their custom.

As the clock struck eight in the evening, a troupe of maids entered the chamber bearing dinner trays. A wave of anticipation swept through the room as the other girls eagerly accepted their meals and accompanying pitchers of water. Your own stomach rumbled in hunger, awaiting your own turn.

But that moment never arrived.

Instead, the maid bypassed your bed entirely, moving on to the next. A surge of apprehension rippled through you as a handmaiden approached, guiding you away from the mattress and toward the vanity.

“What about my dinner?” you asked as the attendants groomed your hair.

“His Lordship has extended an invitation for you to dine with him tonight,” came the reply.

The room fell into a sudden hush.

Dine with him?

The notion sent a flurry of thoughts racing through your mind.

Before you could process further, you found yourself pulled upright, your garments removed to be replaced by the scarlet robe.

Envy flickered in the eyes of the other concubines as they observed, their resentment palpable as they stabbed at their food with exaggerated aggression. It wasn’t your doing that Sukuna had taken an unexpected interest in you.

With no adornments save for a dab of crushed cherry paste upon your lips, you were escorted to Sukuna’s chambers.

Once more, the imposing doors swung open, and you found yourself gently ushered into the chamber. As they sealed shut behind you, the room was flooded with light. Sukuna’s figure stared out at the moonlit gardens outside, clad in a billowing white silk robe.

“My Lord,” you greeted respectfully, inclining your head in deference.

“Draw near.”

Complying with his directive, you approached and stood at his side. His presence loomed over you, his stature commanding and formidable, capable of engulfing you entirely with a single embrace. Not that such thoughts dared to linger in your mind.

“Why is your face flushed?” he asked, his gaze penetrating.

You blinked, attempting to dismiss the telltale warmth creeping up your cheeks. “It’s nothing, my Lo—”

Before you could finish, Sukuna turned your chin towards him, his palm coming to rest against your forehead. A nervous swallow traced its way down your throat at his touch, his eyes trailing down your form, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as they settled upon you in your robe.

“Thank you for your gracious gift,” you murmured, feeling the warmth rise to your cheeks.

His fingers trailed through your hair, a mischievous glimmer dancing in his eyes. “I anticipate nothing less than thoroughly enjoying the privilege of removing it off of you.”

You blushed deeper at his statement.

“Come now. I’ve brought a surprise for you.” He took your hand in his with a tug, guiding you towards a doorway. With a simple flick of his fingers, the door parted, revealing a dimly lit hallway beyond.

Your gaze widened in astonishment. “How did you do that, my Lord?”

“Do what?”

“You opened the door without laying a hand on it.”

Sukuna’s striking blood-coloured eyes cut to you. “There is much about me that will be unveiled in due course, my love. What you perceive is but a guise for my true nature.” His smile, oddly childlike, sent a chill down your spine.

Was he some sort of sorcerer? You’d only heard whispers of human anomalies lurking beneath the earth’s surface or sealed within vessels, but historical accounts weren't exactly your cup of tea.

“I ventured into town today,” he said.

“Oh.” You swallowed hard, recovering from his previous statement. “I hope it was a fruitful trip.”

“Indeed, quite fruitful.”

In the soft glow of the distant hallway, Sukuna’s face came into view, casting a spell of trepidation upon your heart. His features were drawn into a mask of stoicism, his eyes devoid of warmth, and his lips pressed into a firm line, jaw rigid with tension.

Parting the curtains, Sukuna drew you near, his arm sweeping out to reveal a horrifying sight: your foster father, bound to a chair with chains, wearing the cruel marks of torture.

His face marred by countless wounds, an eye absent, and teeth scattered at his feet. His dignity stripped away, his vulnerability laid bare in his nakedness, and his manhood amputated.

The sickening lurch in your stomach threatened to betray your composure. “F-Forgive my intrusion, my Lord, but is he . . . is he dead?”

Sukuna’s response was a gilded dagger from within his robe, its handle decorated with a jewel reminiscent of your own captivating eyes. Nestled within the hilt was the very flower he had plucked from your hair. Upon the blade, your name was inscribed.

“Do as you wish, my beloved,” he whispered, his voice stained with dark fascination, offering you the instrument of your foster father’s fate with a chilling sense of detachment.

You couldn’t possibly bring yourself to commit such a heinous act.

Despite the unspeakable cruelties inflicted upon you by the bastard, the idea of taking another’s life filled you with a trembling dread.

Yet, the itch to end the torment, to rid the world of such a vile presence, simmered just beneath the surface as you stood before him, his life slipping away.

A hand trailed down the back of your head, guiding your trembling fingers to grasp the dagger tightly.

Looking up, you met Sukuna’s gaze, his expression hollow, his features obscured by shadows. This was the face of the Devil that cursed his enemies on their knees and had them willingly submit to death.

With a push from behind, you stumbled forward, drawing closer to your step-father’s prone form.

Glancing back at Sukuna, you were met with an incongruously bright smile. Quite a twisted paradox, His Lordship.

Your step-father sat unconscious, the stench of his bodily fluids assaulting your senses. His wounds oozed with a sickening mixture of blood and pus, his laboured breaths the only indication of life remaining within him. The scene was painfully familiar, a mirror image of the torment you had endured countless times before.

But now, someone had intervened, offering you a chance at liberation, a chance to end the cycle of abuse once and for all.

You glanced back again.

Until Sukuna.

Your gaze reluctantly returned to the true embodiment of cruelty before you. With a steady hand, you raised your arm, wielding the dagger with purpose.

It found its mark in your foster-father’s chest, a chilling silence punctuated only by the sound of steel meeting flesh. Ignoring the strangled cry that erupted from him, you withdrew the blade, then drove it back into his heart.

Out.

In.

Out.

In.

His lifeblood painted your face and stained your pristine garments, mingling with the fabric in a macabre dance of crimson. To the untrained eye, it could easily be mistaken for a mere splash of vibrant colour upon your robe.

No one would dare suspect the truth.

No one would dare come near if they knew of your sin.

No one, except Sukuna.

Once the monster over your bed was consigned to the depths of hell, his guts spilling onto the floor around your bare feet, you allowed yourself a moment of grim satisfaction.

With a contemptuous snarl, you spat upon him, a visceral response to the years of degradation he had inflicted upon you for every misstep.

A comforting warmth touched your back.

Startled by the sudden contact, you tensed before easing at the sight of Sukuna’s faint smile.

As he reached to caress your cheek, you instinctively recoiled, lowering your gaze in deference.

“Forgive me, my Lord,” you murmured, “but I cannot permit you to spoil your hands with the blood of this man.”

Sukuna’s shoes entered your line of sight as he tilted your chin upward, his moon-white sleeve wiping away the traces of blood from your mouth and its vicinity. “You appear rather exquisite painted in blood, Sad Eyes. Perhaps I ought to designate you as my prized assassin instead of a mere concubine.”

“I beg your pardon, my Lord, but I cannot partake in killing . . . again.”

“You need not worry,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear as he drew near. “I will defend you from any who cast their gaze upon you, let alone lay a hand upon your delicate form. Those who dare cross that line will face my wrath, their very existence extinguished before your eyes. Not a single tear shall stain your cheeks.” His lips brushed against yours. “From this moment forward, fear shall not reside within you. By my side, you shall command fear itself, my love.”

That night, Sukuna bathed you in the sanctuary of his chambers, washing away the traces of blood from your skin as you gazed at him with a sense of wonder. It wasn’t the superficial admiration the other concubines whispered about—it was a profound affection blossoming within you, nurtured by power and protection.

He draped you in the luxurious folds of one of his silk robes, summoning servants to prepare dinner. Seated upon his lap, he fed you spoonfuls of rice and chicken, even as your stomach protested its fullness. Soft kisses peppered your neck like a sweet dessert, culminating in one upon your lips before he reluctantly released you to retire to your dormitory.

In the ensuing weeks, Sukuna would consistently send a crafted robe ahead of each meeting—in the serene seclusion of his chambers, where the flickering candlelight cast shadows upon the walls as you dined together.

Over the course of these intimate dinners, he eagerly absorbed your musings, whether they revolved around the narratives of books discovered within the palace library or your adeptness with herbs and plants, nurtured by your profound knowledge.

On occasion, as the first light of dawn painted the sky with hues of pink and gold, Sukuna would summon you for a stroll in the haven of the back garden. Woven between the fragrant blooms, you’d dance about with childlike enthusiasm, identifying various flowers and tracing their lineage.

Ever the attentive listener, Sukuna trailed behind you, his gaze fixed upon your animated figure. He would only speak when you fell silent, demanding you to continue sharing the familial ties between apples, plums, and the roses they stemmed from.

Within the crevice of your soul, the once withered garden of affection had flourished into a lush wilderness, blossoming with untamed wildflowers and clouds that spelled out his name.

Sukuna inhabited your every waking thought, his intoxicating mouth that worshipped your body left you giggling in delight behind your hands.

Yet, each encounter with a fellow concubine, flushed and eager with tales of their rendezvous with him, felt like thorns piercing your tender heart. Jealousy, like ivy creeping upon stone, entwined itself around your every plagued thought. Your gaze often strayed to the bedside drawer where the dagger lay dormant. The mere mention of his physique by the other women tormented your soul relentlessly.

Why hadn’t Sukuna taken you as he had with every other concubine? You had grown accustomed to his presence, even eager to reciprocate the pleasure he gifted you every evening. You had offered yourself willingly, aching for the intimacy that would bind you even closer to him. But he had not claimed you in the same manner, not entered you fully, not seeded his legacy within you.

Did he question your worthiness? Did he see you merely as a transient pleasure? Were you destined to remain just a concubine, forever denied the honour of carrying his child?

“Why do you remain silent?” Sukuna asked, turning the pages of the book you had suggested to him; he was already half-way through.

You were seated snugly between his legs upon the bed, your back rested against his chest, fingers idly toying with the strands of your hair. “I find myself devoid of words this evening.”

“Hmm.” Sukuna took a leisurely sip of his drink before placing it aside. “Surely you can conjure something. You know well enough that I cannot endure your silence.”

With an exasperated sigh, you rolled your eyes. “Well, I apologise for failing to provide you with amusement, my Lord.”

Sukuna��snapped the book shut.

You instinctively pressed your lips together, silently chiding yourself for the unintended sharpness in your voice.

With a heavy sigh, you resigned yourself to maintaining your composure, forcing yourself to take slow, steady breaths. Deep down, you believed that he wouldn’t inflict harm upon you or cast you out of his chambers. But the nagging thought chewed at you.

This was Sukuna Ryomen, and you . . . well, you were merely a shadow in comparison.

“If you crave my touch,” he breathed softly into your ear, “all you need to do is utter the request.”

With a determined resolve, you turned to face him, settling yourself upon his lap. Sukuna regarded you with a quirked eyebrow, a quiet acknowledgment of your unconventional audacity.

“I do crave your touch, my Lord,” you confessed, your voice a hushed plea, “but not only with your hands or lips. I long to feel you in a different manner.” Your gaze drifted down to his pelvis, the unspoken appetite evident in your eyes. “I crave that.”

Sukuna exhaled heavily, his gaze piercing as he addressed you. “So, you’ve been withholding your words simply because I haven’t fed you my cock?"

Heat rose to your cheeks at his blunt proclamation, though you had grown accustomed to his coarse mannerisms over time.

“Yes, my . . . Lord.” Your voice carried a mixture of embarrassment. “I’ve endured three long months of anticipation, patiently waiting to share in the pleasures enjoyed by your other consorts. Yet, with the arrival of autumn, I find myself still untouched by the experiences they so openly boast about.”

His lips curled into a smirk. “Are you asking me to bed you merely for the purpose of becoming a notch in your bragging rights?”

“Never, my Lord!” you protested vehemently, a hint of hurt flickering in your eyes. “I would never demean you with such vulgar talk in public. I’ve spun tales to the others, concealing the truth of our encounters. They remain oblivious to the pleasures you’ve granted me.” Your fingers traced the intricate markings on his chiselled abdominal muscles. “If my spoiled state displeases you, if I am deemed unworthy of your touch, pray, inform me now. Regardless, my sole wish is to fulfil His Lordship’s needs.”

Sukuna disentangled your hands from his chest, a gesture that caused a fissure to form within your heart, forcing your body to instinctively withdraw from his touch.

Just as you began to pull away, he swiftly encircled his arm around your waist, tugging you back onto his lap with a firm grip. Before you could utter a single word, his lips descended upon yours, silencing any protest with a passionate kiss.

With a purposeful touch, he skillfully divested you of your robe, revealing the curves of your form beneath. His hands, warm and adept, began to massage your supple breasts, kindling soft gasps from your lips. His own trailed a wet path downward, leaving a bridge of feverish kisses along the expanse of your throat, lingering over the rapid pulse beneath your skin.

As his lips found purchase on the tender flesh of your neck, his actions became more urgent, his touch more demanding. A pinch at your pebbled nipples sent a shiver of sensation coursing through you, followed by the heat of an open-mouthed kiss.

Your gaze drifted downwards, enchanted by the sight of his tongue encircling the sensitive spots, suckling on the swollen buds like a babe. Already, heat was building within the depths of your being, igniting a flame that spread between your legs.

Sukuna laid you back, relishing the delicate flavour of your lips as his fingers skillfully sought out your throbbing clit, stimulating it with unhurried circles.

With practised ease, he slipped two fingers inside you, quickening his rhythm without preamble. Your hand instinctively traced down to his chest, undoing the fastenings of his robe.

“Take it,” he whispered against your mouth, his breath mingling with yours. “Satisfy your lord, my love.”

Your fingers curled around his pulsating cock, the very object of desire that the other girls had passionately recounted. The knowledge of their previous intimacies with him only stoked the flames of envy within you, spurring you to intensify your ministrations.

With a surge of determination, you quickened the pace of your caresses, applying pressure with your thumb upon his sensitive tip while fondling his sacs.

Sukuna’s grin widened against your lips as he reciprocated with equal zeal, slipping a third finger into your slick heat until he was fully engulfed by your swollen core.

Together, you sailed upon the waves of raw carnal desire, locked in a lecherous race to reach your climax, each vying to be the first to cross the finish line—

Sukuna’s low, guttural moans resonated throughout the chamber.

You had achieved victory.

His essence spilled forth into your waiting hands, his cock convulsing with the intensity of his release. Moments later, you succumbed to your own climax, a soft cry escaping your lips.

With care, Sukuna withdrew his hand from your centre, and you instinctively examined your palm, noting the striking resemblance of his essence to your own.

You tentatively brought your fingers to your lips, savouring the taste of him.

“I did not instruct you to do that,” he growled, his gaze blazing as you tasted him. “But I suppose I’ll permit it.”

“It is salty,” you murmured, almost absentmindedly.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, are you women incapable of discussing anything besides my cock?” he exclaimed, frustration evident in his tone.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension dissipating as he cleaned his fingers with his tongue before tenderly cradling the back of your head, drawing you to sit upon his lap. Your laughter softened into chuckles, a smile playing upon your lips.

“Did I please you, my Lo—”

“Sukuna,” he interrupted firmly. “Only you may address me by my given name.”

“My L—”

“I command it.” His tone left no room for argument.

You affirmed your agreement with a nod.

He was Sukuna.

Your Sukuna.

“Very well, Sukuna.” You felt a subtle shift in the air between you. His chuckle rumbled softly. “Shall I turn around for you?”

“And why do you deem such an unnecessary act necessary?”

“Because—” You suppressed the urge to divulge the whispers of the other concubines regarding his favoured position. “Never mind. How would you prefer me to present myself to you?”

“As you are,” Sukuna answered, his grip tightening around himself. “How you managed to have me spend by your hand in under five minutes is a marvel beyond my comprehension.”

Internally, you gave yourself a congratulatory pat on the back.

“Now, my love,” he said, inclining his chin towards his erection, “will you do my cock the honour of sitting on it?”

Licking the grin of your lips, you nodded, rising to your knees. With nimble fingers, you positioned his hardened length at your entrance, gradually lowering yourself onto him.

A sharp intake of breath escaped Sukuna’s lips, his hands instinctively grasping your hips. You bit down on the inside of your cheek, enduring the initial sting of penetration. Perhaps every touch of his fingers had been a meticulous groundwork for this pinnacle moment.

As you settled into your seat upon him, you granted yourself a minute to acclimate to the sheer magnitude of him stretching and filling your tight, supple walls.

Sukuna tilted his head back, impatience evident in his eyes. “Will you begin moving at a pace befitting this century, Sad Eyes?”

“Just a moment,” you retorted, your tone tinged with irritation.

“Unfortunately, the sight of your leaking cunt is testing my patience,” he remarked, his gaze lingering provocatively on your flushed form.

Collecting yourself, you affirmed your resolve with a nod before subtly adjusting your position, and swaying your hips forward. His strong hands guided you, aiding your movements as you sought a rhythm. “Gods, you’re— You’re quite large. It’s rather discomforting.”

“Ah, where has the enthusiasm to please your lord vanished, my love?” His laughter echoes through the chamber as he leaned back, amused by your scowl. “I must confess, your defiance is perhaps your most alluring trait. It has crossed my mind more than once during moments of handling myself in the bath.”

Your brow furrowed in dismay.

It was evident that the other concubines possessed far greater expertise in pleasuring him than you ever could. All you could manage was to feign enthusiasm, your movements faltering and disjointed, as you struggled to produce even a fraction of the satisfaction they effortlessly blessed him with. His laughter, which wasn’t helping your cause, bore an uncanny resemblance to the mocking tones of the girls who had taunted you in the past.

You no longer wished to endure this charade.

You halted in your tracks, unable to muster the courage to meet his gaze, your eyes fixated instead on his throat. “It appears . . . that I may not be adequately versed in fulfilling your needs. I shall endeavour to educate myself further before making another attempt. For now, I request permission to retire for the evening, my Lord.”

Sukuna’s grip tightened as he seized your jaw, compelling you to meet his gaze. “You dare to defy my command to address me by my given name?” His smile remained wicked as he drew your face closer to his own. “Remember, my love, there is a boundary to which I tolerate your rebellion. Do not allow my affections to cloud your judgement. I remain your Lord, above all else. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you managed to gasp out.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Sukuna,” you replied, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

With a swift motion, he released your sore jaw, and before you could even consider easing the ache, his lips crashed against yours.

In that moment, control slipped from your grasp entirely. His hands gripped the flesh of your buttocks possessively, guiding your movements as he claimed you with a primal savageness that left you shaking in his embrace.

“Does it pain you, my beloved?” Sukuna growled, his fingers curling around your nape possessively. “Do you feel the strain of my cock as I breach your tender walls?”

You whimpered softly, your head nodding against the curve of his neck.

“Fear not, my darling. I will diligently train this cunt of yours to accommodate every inch of me, dusk, dawn, and twilight. Your throat, too, shall be honed to fulfil my every whim, wherever and whenever I demand.” With a swift motion, he tugged your hair, forcing you to meet his glare. “And should you dare to entertain thoughts of defiance with any other man beyond the confines of my chamber, rest assured, there will be consequences.”

“Sukuna,” was all you gasped, eyes rolling back as his tip probed the depths of your womb. His tongue traced the delicate curve of your throat before shoving into your mouth, drawing out your own to suckle on. In the heat of the moment, your hands roamed aimlessly, torn between grasping at his waist, clutching his shoulders, or caressing his cheeks.

“Oh, how I love the sight of your breasts greeting me in my face.” Sukuna tightened his hold on each of them with a deadly grasp, savouring the melodious cry that escaped your lips. He lowered his head and teethed each nipple, drawing it out and relishing in the masochism of your sharp nails clawing down his back. “Deeper, my darling. You alone hold the privilege of marking my flesh. Let my scars mirror yours.”

With caution, you shifted your hands to rest upon his firm pectoral muscles before you could accidentally claw out his spinal cord.

Sukuna’s touch drifted from your bruised breasts to cradle your face, guiding your gaze to meet his crimson one.

Encouraged by his comforting presence, you arched your hips forward with newfound confidence. His fingers swept through your hair, pushing it away as he offered reassuring nods.

Now, the reins rested firmly within your grasp.

“Fuck . . .” Leaning back against the headboard, he released soft sighs. Warm breaths escaped his parted lips as you continued increasing your ministrations. Your gaze momentarily flickered to your favourite book resting on his bedside table before returning to his face.

Suddenly seized by an impulse, you leaned forward to plant a tender kiss upon his lips, trailing upward to gently brush against his cheekbones, tracing the intricate markings lining his skin.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Someone must play the role of the tender one between us, Sukuna,” you answered, mirroring the attention he had given your scars during your initial encounter. With each kiss, you felt his eyes tracing your movements, following the path of your lips as they journeyed across his face, landing upon his nose or the pulse of his neck.

“My beloved,” Sukuna’s voice caressed your ears, drawing your focus entirely to him, “listen closely to my words.”

You halted your movements, a curious expression dancing in your eyes. “What troubles you?”

With a deliberate motion, he guided your hips forward, his gaze unwavering. “Throughout the night, I will fill your womb ceaselessly, and in mere weeks, you shall carry my legacy within you.” Your heart leaped into your throat, fluttering with an overwhelming rush of emotion. “Peril will shadow your every step. Those who oppose us will stop at nothing to eliminate your life and the life of our child. Do you comprehend the gravity of our situation?”

You blinked back the tears, resigning yourself to the inevitable.

“But I vow upon my honour, such an atrocity shall never come to pass. I will sever entire bloodlines if even a single strand of your precious hair were harmed.” His movements quickened as he thrusted into you.

Your grip tightened on his shoulders again, gasping for breath between erratic pants.

“At dawn’s light, all concubines shall be reassigned to palace duties. You need only point out those who have dared to trouble you, though their transgressions are already known to me.” His motions became more intense as he pressed you onto your back, pinning your arms above your head. “And when the sun graces the horizon, you, my beloved, shall be proclaimed as my queen.”

Your voice wailed through the chamber as you cried out his name, drowning in the waves of scorching pleasure never before experienced.

Instead of seeing celestial bodies colliding, your gaze met the deep crimson of his irises, those same eyes that had captivated you on that very first night.

“Sukuna . . . ”

With a smile mirroring his own, you tilted your head upward, silently beckoning him to seal the moment with a kiss. As he obliged, his cock pulsed within you, filling you with his warmth until every fibre of your being was tethered with his.

But he didn’t withdraw. Just as he had promised, he intended to keep you close throughout the night, to claim you as his own.

And in that moment, as you laid with him, you welcomed the dawn of a new chapter standing beside him, prepared to reign as Sukuna Ryomen’s queen.

[xyywrites]

Overused Words in Writing & How to Avoid Them

We’ve all got our comfort words—those trusty adjectives, verbs, or phrases we lean on like a crutch. But when certain words show up too often, they lose their impact, leaving your writing feeling repetitive or uninspired.

1. “Very” and Its Cousins

Why It’s Overused: It’s easy to tack on “very” for emphasis, but it’s vague and doesn’t pull its weight.

Instead of: “She was very tired.” Try: “She was exhausted.” / “She dragged her feet like lead weights.”

💡 Tip: Use precise, vivid descriptions rather than vague intensifiers.

2. “Looked” and “Saw”

Why It’s Overused: It’s functional but flat, and it often tells instead of shows.

Instead of: “He looked at her in disbelief.” Try: “His eyebrows shot up, his lips parting as if words had failed him.”

💡 Tip: Focus on body language or sensory details instead of relying on generic verbs.

3. “Suddenly”

Why It’s Overused: It’s often used to create surprise, but it tells readers how to feel instead of letting the scene deliver the shock.

Instead of: “Suddenly, the door slammed shut.” Try: “The door slammed shut, the sound ricocheting through the empty room.”

💡 Tip: Let the action or pacing create urgency without needing to announce it.

4. “Said” (When Overdone or Misused)

Why It’s Overused: While “said” is often invisible and functional, using it in every dialogue tag can feel robotic.

Instead of: “I can’t believe it,” she said. “Me neither,” he said. Try: Replace with an action: “I can’t believe it.” She ran a hand through her hair, pacing. “Me neither.” He leaned against the counter, arms crossed.

💡 Tip: Don’t ditch “said” entirely; just mix it up with context clues or action beats.

5. “Felt”

Why It’s Overused: It’s a shortcut that tells instead of showing emotions.

Instead of: “She felt nervous.” Try: “Her palms slicked with sweat, and she couldn’t stop her leg from bouncing.”

💡 Tip: Let readers infer emotions through sensory details or behavior.

6. “Really” and “Actually���

Why It’s Overused: They add little to your sentences and can dilute the impact of stronger words.

Instead of: “I really don’t think that’s a good idea.” Try: “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

💡 Tip: If a sentence works without these words, cut them.

7. “Walked” or “Ran”

Why It’s Overused: These are go-to movement words, but they can feel bland when used repeatedly.

Instead of: “He walked into the room.” Try: “He strolled in like he owned the place.” / “He shuffled in, avoiding everyone’s eyes.”

💡 Tip: Use verbs that convey mood, speed, or attitude.

8. “Just”

Why It’s Overused: It sneaks into sentences unnecessarily, weakening your prose.

Instead of: “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.” Try: “I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

💡 Tip: Delete “just” unless it adds essential nuance.

9. “Thought”

Why It’s Overused: It tells readers what a character is thinking instead of showing it through internal dialogue or action.

Instead of: “She thought he might be lying.” Try: “His story didn’t add up. The timelines didn’t match, and he wouldn’t meet her eyes.”

💡 Tip: Immerse readers in the character’s perspective without announcing their thoughts.

10. “Nice” and Other Vague Adjectives

Why It’s Overused: It’s generic and doesn’t give readers a clear picture.

Instead of: “He was a nice guy.” Try: “He always remembered her coffee order and held the door open, even when his arms were full.”

💡 Tip: Show qualities through actions instead of relying on vague descriptors.

Final Tips for Avoiding Overused Words:

1. Use a thesaurus wisely: Swap overused words for synonyms, but stay true to your character’s voice and the scene’s tone.

2. Read your work aloud: You’ll catch repetitive patterns and clunky phrases more easily.

3. Edit in layers: Focus on eliminating overused words during your second or third pass, not your first draft.