#:) ... I AM MONTHS LATE ON THIS BUT I AM DELIVERING | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mauvecherie-writes · 2 months ago

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𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐩, 𝐝𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐝𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧 — 𝐥. 𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐨𝐧

— rating: 18+ NSFW, explicit.

— summary: Lewis just couldn’t wait to get back home to his woman.

— warning: very little plot, minor angst, talks of feelings, fluff, sexually explicit, slight handjob, fingering, oral!f receiving, unprotected penetrative sex, multiple orgasms, rough handling: hair pulling, slight spanking, choking, minor dirty talk, minor aftercare. NOT EDITED

w.c: 5.0K

— ru’s 💌: am i back? am i not? time will tell 🤭 please enjoy! like, reblog and comment <3

He couldn’t stop his leg from shaking as the plane continued to descend.

“Since when have you been nervous about flying?” The voice of his father it through the noise of the podcast Lewis was listening to. He moved his headphone away from his ear and turned to his Dad with a soft smile playing on his face.

“I’m not nervous because of flying, Dad. I’m just anxious to see my girl.” Lewis confessed. Anthony chuckled – his smile spread and filled his whole face.

“She’s your girl now? When did that happen?”

“YN’s been my woman from the moment you introduced us. Things have been going really good between us. I just haven’t asked her officially.”

“Why haven’t you?” Lewis sighed at the question, rubbing his forehead as he thought of an answer. The both of you had never really discussed about the boundaries of your relationship, things just fell into place. In the beginning, things were meant to be strictly casual – whenever either of you where in town or whoever could fly out. However, as things progressed over the months, the both of you found yourselves dropping everyone else and exploring things exclusively without thinking too much about it.

However, there was something about this weekend, being away from you, had left an ache in his heart when he thought of you. When you’d spoken to him, telling him that you missed him in that soft, little voice of yours, - you took the last pieces of his heart and made him yours, completely.

“It’s been on my mind lately. I just think it’s time to make it serious. I don’t want her thinking that I’m wasting her time when I know she’s the one.”

“Alright, son. As long as you do what needs to be done. The next I see her; she better be my daughter-in-law.”

“I’ll do my best.” Lewis chuckled.

The plane landed and he separated from his parents and rode the town car towards your address. Originally, he would have met you at his home, but it was getting renovated to extend the closet to include more space for you. When it came to fashion, the both of you were competing but you had the leg up due to your vintage bag and shoe collection. One of the many things that he loved about you.

In his hand, he only had his essential hand luggage and a bouquet of your favourite flowers. The rest of his bags would be delivered tomorrow as for what he had planned, there was no need for clothing.

With his spare key, Lewis opened the door to your townhouse and the immediate aroma of spices hit the senses of his nose. It brought a small smile to his face and the sense of welcome. He was home.

“Sweetheart! Roscoe!” He called out and the response he received was an excited squeal and an enthusiastic bark. The patter of nails on hardwood floor and soft thudding of bare feet on the wooden floor got heavier, the closer they came towards him and around the corner. You were ahead of the aging dog, in your barest form of beauty, dressed in just a white, camisole top and an old pair of his shorts. Not caring about what was in his hands, you dove into his arms and wrapped your limbs around his body. The speed in which you came at him almost knocked him out, but he quickly recovered.

“Woah!” Lewis lightly let out a laugh as he manoeuvred the flowers into his other hand and then secured his free arm around your waist as you snuggled your face into his neck and held onto him tightly. Without words, your hug conveyed how much you missed him and God, did he miss you too. Having you in his arms completed him in a way that he had never felt before.

“I missed you too, baby.” He whispered into your ear. He walked away from the door and with Roscoe following until Lewis settled on the couch with you still in his arms. You leaned back and took him in.

“Look at you.” You mumbled as you knocked his cap away from his head and freed his curls from their cage. He had been letting his curls loose lately and you swore your attraction to him increased tenfold. Your fingertips massaged the sides of his temples and his eyes fluttered close, and a lazy smile drew on his face.

“I missed you so much.” Lewis stated again which made you giggle.

“I missed you more even though we FaceTimed every day for these past two weeks.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same as having you right in front of me, sitting on my lap.” His hands came to your waist and settled there. “Nothing compares to this moment.” He added as he drew soft, circular patterns on the sides of your hips.

“Oh yeah?” You questioned, your eyebrow quirking up as you tried to contain your glee.

“Yes, baby. Now gimme a kiss, we’ve been apart for too long.” You didn’t need telling twice as you leaned down and captured his lips as you cradled his face into your palms. He hummed softly as your lips touched and the tingling feeling of your fingers rubbing on his beard. Lewis smiled was your mouth’s entangled in a slow dance of passion. Lovers, reuniting and quenching their thirst – drinking the lust your bodies desperately seeked. Lewis’s hand came to the back of your neck and pulled you closer as the kiss deepened.

Your core began to dampen, and you could feel him hardening beneath you and for a moment, as you drowned in his consumption, a disgruntled bark broke the haze. You turned your kisses to the underside of his jawline and to his neck as Lewis finally gave Roscoe some of his attention.

“Sorry my boy. I just had to great Mummy first.” He said just before Roscoe jumped onto the couch with some effort and then forced his way in between your bodies causing the both of you to laugh. “Alright boy. You have my attention.” You got up from his lap and placed one more kiss on his forehead and scratched behind Roscoe’s ears.

“Go freshen up, I’ll finish getting dinner ready.

Half an hour later, Lewis returned to the living room feeling livelier, changed into another pair of grey sweatpants and nothing more but the rainbow pearls around his neck along with a customised diamond encrusted cuban link chain that you bought him for his birthday. He kept his curls loose, a bit more damp from moisturising them. You licked your lips as you drank in his form. Witnessing his muscles and taut body move across the living room, relaxed and little sluggish. His freshly detailed tattoos, glistening from the shea body oil you know that he took from your side of the vanity table.

As you prepared a plate for him, you began to think to yourself that if you had told yourself a year ago that you would be fixing a plate for a man and becoming a mother to an aging dog who took your heart, you would have laughed at yourself. But here you were, doing exactly that. Tony Morrison was turning in her grave.

You silently watched as Lewis prepared Roscoe for bed, getting him more comfortable.

“Baby, come eat.”

“What did you make?” Lewis asked as he stood to his full height and approached you by the kitchen island.

“Shredded tofu tacos with pico de gallo with triple cooked chips. I made buffalo cauliflower too but that depends on whether you finish these tacos or not.”

“Everything sounds so good.” Lewis unconsciously licked his lips as you placed the food down in front of him. “Your cooking is always good.”

You sat beside him as you watched him eat and be happily fulfilled. Your hand came to the nape of his neck, playing with the tiny trestles of curls that laid there as he ate each of tacos on his plate.

“You should have been a chef.” Lewis groaned as he cleared everything that was on his plate, including the small bowl of buffalo cauliflower that he asked for.

“Why do people love saying that to me just because I can cook?” You giggled.

“Because all of that elbow work you put in could open a very successful, generational restaurant.”

“Fuck off.” You playfully dismissed him as you shoved his shoulder. With his plate clear, you took it away from him. As you stood by the sink, he couldn’t help but admire everything about your being. Before he met you and in the beginning days of your relationship – the hyper independent side of you would have never been doing everything that you were doing now but Lewis took great pride in the fact that you only did this for him.

The owner of your own accounting firm – one of the few forensic accountants in the city. Because of your niche, you were one of a kind and you were the best in the game. Your father and Anthony were tennis buddies, and you had a shared a few games with the man. Anthony introducing you to his son changed your lives.

“How’s the firm?” Lewis asked as he drank his water.

“Good… We finally aced the TSB contract.” You announced which caused his face to break out into a wide grin before he pulled you into his arms as he placed kisses all over your face.

“I knew you would get it! Congratulations sweetheart.”

“Thank you!” You giggled as you wrapped your arms around his neck and softly pecked his lips, the laughter never stopping as he kept coming back for more kisses. His fingers caressed your back as he held you close.

“Joining the baller’s club huh.” You rolled your eyes at his playful comments. As much you were making in the upper six figures – it was nothing compared to your wealthy lover. His generous gifts certainly helped.

“Let me actually fulfil part of my contract first. They could easily change their minds.”

“Then come to a race weekend. It’s more than just entertainment; it’s also a really good place to network with people on an international scale.”

“Look at you being supportive and shit. Am I also getting a hint of something else?” You raised an eyebrow and looked down at him inquisitively.

“I know you’ve been to a couple of races but this time I want you there as my VIP guest.” Lewis nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders as he absentmindedly drew patterns on your exposed skin.

“What race?”

“Which ever race that you can fit into your schedule. I know you’re a busy woman.”

“I’ll see what I can do for you, Mr Hamilton.” You whispered as you leaned down and captured his lips. He hummed softly into your mouth as your tongue leisurely caressed his, taking over his senses as you began to consume his every thought. Lewis could feel himself hardening against you as you pressed against him and all of his feelings that had been building up over the past few weeks that had mounted over.

“Take me out.” He suggested, mumbling onto your lips as he broke away. Your eyes darkened with lust, licking your lips – savouring his taste.

“Just like that?” You whispered.

“Just like that.” Lewis confirmed with his voice in a lowly tone as he moved to his feet and glided his hands away from your hips to your ass and groped it. Shifting your positions, your back was then pressed into the kitchen island edge as he crowded your space. Your hands slid into his sweatpants, and you pulled him out just as he asked.

Lewis sighed softly as your warm hand covered his tip, and you began to tug. His hand came to the back of your neck and pulled your lips towards his. With each stroke of your hand, you could feel him getting harder and harder. His pre-cum coated your palm, making your pulls more fluid, turning him on even more than he already was.

And you? Your essence was beginning to collect in between your thighs. You gasped into the heated kiss as he suddenly lifted your body into his arms, and you secured your legs around his waist. You moaned into his mouth as you felt his length against your warm centre.

Once in the bedroom, you began to strip at the clothing that was suffocating you. Lewis gently laid you down on the bed and pulled the shorts down the length of your legs. The he did the same, discarding the sweatpants and standing in between your legs.

Looking down at you, parting your thighs softly until he could see your cunt. Your core was dripping, your clit blooming and swollen. It never took much to get you wet like this, but it was only something that he could do to you.

“So fucking pretty.” He mumbled, more to himself than you but his comment made you smile, nonetheless.

“You always say that.” You responded as you parted your legs further as he hovered above you.

“Because it’s true. Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, and it’s all mine.” He said before he crashed his lips into yours, craving your taste more than he’d ever before. With his tongue parting your lips as he deepened the kiss, he pushed two fingers inside of you.

“Uuhhh.” You whimpered as your tongues collided hungrily. It was like the pit of your stomach was collapsing within itself at how good his fingers felt inside of you. Your walls were so snug and tight around his fingers.

“You’re soaking me already, baby.” He mumbled, his teeth latching onto your bottom lip and lightly tugging.

“Mmm.” You whimpered yet again and wrapped your hand around his wrist as he pushed his fingers deeper into your pussy. The both of you followed a rhythm, the pace increasing as your hips lifted off the bed as your breaths became heavier. Your braids had fallen out of their bun and using his free hand, Lewis loosened the rest and tugged at them, forcing you to meet his eyes. Chest to chest, the chain around his neck brushing against your breast as his hair tickled your cheeks as the curls created a curtain around your face. Complete tunnel vision on him as he made you feel good with his fingers.

Lewis watched as your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he curled his fingers and hooked them on your spot. The sound of your name leaving your lips was so sweet and it made his dick throb even harder. He pulled his fingers out of you, causing you to pout. He quickly changed that expression when he pushed those fingers into your mouth.

You eagerly sucked on the digits, your tongue making sure not to mis any drop – sucking on them just like you would his dick. He smirked as he watched desire drive your actions. With his fingers pushing on your gag reflex. Lewis shifted his body so that he was at eye level with your pussy. The back of your thighs was on his shoulders as his mouth watered at the sight of your lower lips. He unconsciously licked his lips as your arousal trickled out of you.

The sweetest nectar of forbidden fruit.

“Hold your legs for me, sweetheart.” Lewis instructed and you followed his command. Not wasting anymore time, he spread your use open and swiped his tongue from your asshole to your cunt and back. Soft mewls left your mouth as you squirmed beneath his hold. His hands held you down by the back of your thighs as he completely devoured you. He circled your clit with his tongue, dipping the tip in and out of your cunt -making a mess.

“Oh god!” You cried our as your legs tried to close around his head.

“Just me baby.” Lewis chuckled. “It’s me taking care of this sweet ass pussy.”

“Yeess!” You cried as your hand planted themselves in his thick curls and tugged. Urging him for more and Lewis wasted no time giving it to you. As he feasted on your clit, he dipped his finger back into your core. The combination of his tongue and his fingers had your walls tightening around his digits and and he could feel your orgasm on the rise.

“Let me have it. I need it baby.”

“Lew- shit!” You hissed, crying out in pleasure as your juices began to leak out of you.

“Give me more! C’mon!” He urged you. You body seized as your climax took hold, and he desperately lapped your juices until your body stopped trembling.

One of the many things that you loved about Lewis was that he treated sex like an art form. He always took his time learning your body, accepting every reaction that you gave hi, pushing him to stroke you, harder and faster past your limits.

“Goddamn, so fucking beautiful.” Lewis whispered as he placed a kiss on the inside of each thigh and trailed up the length of your body. He hungrily claimed your lips, kissing you with a passionate force that provoked whimpers out of you. Your essence coating his lips, making sure that you know how good you taste.

“I need you inside of me.” You whispered against his mouth as your hand found its way between your bodies and wrapped around his dick.

“Put it in for me, baby.” He mumbled as he lifted your leg and placed it over his shoulder as the other, he held down with his hand as you slowly pushed him into you. Your eyes immediately closed your pussy fit around him like a glove. Made just for him, that’s how good it felt. Nothing and no one compared to this moment.

And you loved it every time.

“Every time.” He sighed as he buried himself deeper into you. Your hand came to his chin and tugged him closer by his bear. You pecked his lips before you pushed your thumb into his mouth. The tingles that shot through you due to the suction made your pussy clench round him.

“Fuck me like you hate me.” You whispered against his mouth.

“Oh, I will. I just needed a minute to appreciate how you feel.” Your eyes slowly peopled open and locked in with his lust filled ones. Lewis crowded your space as he began to move in and out of you.

Nails dug into his skin as your mouth hung open as his every thrust rattled your body. Lewis’s brows furrowed as he enjoyed the fee of your walls rhythmically pulsating around him. Your warmth, your tightness, your wetness – all for him to experience.

No one else.

“Oh my god!” You gasped. Through your glazed eyes, you saw him smirk down at you. He began to circle his hips, driving deeper into your tunnel but keeping the same pace.

“Right there?”

“Yess – Oh fuck! Yes!” Your eyes crossed as you threw your head back. Lewis leaned down and sucked on your exposed neck as he pressed the tip of his dick against the ceiling of your cunt. The sounds you were making were even foreign to you; your toes curled above his head as the knot in the pit of your stomach clenched.

“Fuck, baby. You always feel so good.” He trapped his bottom lip with his teeth and looked where your bodies joined. The wetter and tighter you got, the more he sped up until a ring of your cream collected at the base of his dick.

“Lewis!” You cried out his name.

“I know baby, I know. Give it to me.” He mumbled as he leaned down and placed kisses along your jawline. “Come on this dick, YN.”

Your words got stuck in your throat as you arched into his chest.

“I want you to look, sweetheart.” Lewis said. “Look at how I fuck this sweet pussy, and you cream all over me.”

“Baabbyy.” The nickname came out as a whimper as you dipped your head down and looked as his dick nestled deep inside and pull out, over and over. Your cream was covering his length and catching on his trimmed pubes. Without thinking, you reached down and with your finger, collected your essence and brought your fingers to his mouth. Lewis groaned as your cum touched his tastebuds.

The look of pure hunger in his eyes was your trigger. Tingles shot up your spine and took over you. “OH FUUU-.” The words were lost in a silent scream as your orgasm erupted. Lewis moaned aloud as you felt his release flood your walls which intensified your climax. You dropped your legs to his waist and wrapped your arms around him after he was spent.

He collapsed on top of you and took deep breaths to gather yourselves even though he was pressing on your chest. Lewis then patted the side of your thigh, and you moved your limbs away from his body. You softly sighed with a pout as he pulled out of you and disappeared into the en-suite.

You climbed towards the headboard and laid down onto your stomach with your eyes closed. You felt the bed dip beside you, then the warm dampness of a cloth on the inside of your thighs. A hum left you as you enjoyed the tenderness of his touch as he cleaned you up and left chaste kisses where his fingers gripped your skin.

“Thank you, my love.” Your voice came out airy and soft. The way you sound when you are tired.

“You’re not falling asleep on me, are you?”

“Not a chance. You have much to make up for.”

Lewis chuckled. “I do, don’t I?”

“You were only gone for two weeks but why did I miss you so much this time?”

“Because before I left, we had an unfinished conversation.”

You turned around onto your back, the jiggling flesh of your breast bouncing with the movement. The sight of that had his dick standing to attention. By the little smirk on your face, you knew what he had referring to.

“You have been my unexpected surprise. Coming at a moment I had sworn no distractions.”

“Am I a distraction to you, Mr Hamilton?” You asked as you leaned forward onto your elbows, and it brought your face closer to his.

“No, you’re not sweetheart. You’re everything I didn’t expect to be blessed with and more.”

“I like that answer.” You closed the gap between you and pecked his lips.

“I like you.” He murmured as he kissed you back, holding onto your Ips for longer. Your hand came to cup his cheek.

“I like you too.” With one last peck, you moved away from the bed. You don’t know why but the sudden urge to run took hold and you swiftly moved to the closet as the beating of your heart was loud in your ears. You had known that this conversation was coming. It had been lingering over your heads for more than enough time now and yet, a part of you was still not ready to face it. You had already given so much into this relationship and what scared you the most was how … easy it was to do. Lewis pulled out parts of you that had been dormant and you hated how it made you love him even more for it.

To be confronted with his feelings too. To know that he reciprocated what you gave and then-some was overwhelming.

“You avoiding me sweetheart?” You heard him speak from behind you as you turned your attention your jewellery vanity.

“Babe…”

“No, no. You are avoiding me.”

“I’m not. I’m just trying to get my emotions in control.” You confessed as you stayed facing the dresser, sorting out your jewellery, trying to keep your fingers busy.

“Talk to me then.” His voice sounded closer than before, but you didn’t feel his warmth.

“You have no idea how badly I want this.” You whispered your admission. “And for so long, it felt like admitting it out loud was a fool’s dream.”

“Did you think I didn’t want the same thing as you?” He asked.

“It’s not that I didn’t but I was weary because I know that this is a trying time in your career and you’re so focused on reclaiming what was stolen from you and you’re such a narrow minded visionary when it comes to your goals and as much as I can feel that you want this – you are right in saying I might be a distraction.” You nervously chewed on your bottom lip as your fears spilled out. You still weren’t looking at him, but you felt his arms circling your waist and his face buried in the crook of you neck.

“It would be foolish of me to say you’re wrong. You’re right, I do want to get back to the top of my game and I’m doing everything in my power to make sure that I do. And despite saying all of that, the way I feel about you YN far surpasses that. We were meant to find each other when we did. You are here to remind me that there are things that don’t wait for the right moment. I would be a fucking idiot if I let you go and ask you to wait when I can experience what we have now and grow in love together.”

You were quiet as you let his words wash over you and settle within your heart. “You really mean that?” You asked, your voice soft but full of hope. Your bodies swayed side to side as laid kisses on your neck and up to the back of your ear.

“I do. I want this for as long as you want me, but I don’t want to do this with anyone else, and I don’t want to.” His touch melted you as he explored your curves, enticing your senses, and you could feel his hardness beginning to press against your ass. Your body felt like it was vibrating from how much it craved him.

“Lewis.” You mumbled his name as he bent your body forward until you were pressed over the vanity table. The bite of the wood against your chest did not compare to the sizzling touch of his fingers in between your thighs, spreading your wetness around. Your body just called to hi and he always knew how to answer.

“Ssshhh, I know just what you need, sweetheart.” He spoke as he parted your legs even further and slipped right back into you. You braced yourself by holding onto the vanity’s edge as he delivered long and deep strokes.

“Oh my!” You gasped as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. His thrusts rattled your body over and over until your legs were trembling beneath you. The way that he was controlling your body, you knew that there would be no-one else that would ever come close.

Your orgasm quickly rose, jumbling your thoughts and only leaving Lewis. Your hand behind and pressed against his abs.

“Move your fucking hand!” He hissed through his gritted teeth as he pushed himself deeper into you. “You told me to fuck you like I hated you and I am.” You could hear the teasing in his voice. Then he wrapped your braids around his wrist and pulled until your back was deeply arched. The new angle had you gasping for air and standing on your tiptoes as you braced yourself.

The slapping of his pelvis against your ass, your mingled heavy breathing, and the quivering of your cunt around his dick was pleasurably overwhelming.

Tell me you’re mine, YN.”

“I – I, oh GOD!” You screamed as your eyes closed with tears lining your lashes.

“Fucking tell me!” He taunted with a heavy slap on your ass cheeks.

“Yes! Yes! I’m yours!” You moaned out loud. Using your braids, he pulled you up to his chest and placed your right knee onto the vanity table. His left hand came to your jaw and other came in between your thighs and rubbed on your clit in rhythm with his thrusts.

Lewis licked his lips as he watched the pleasure completely take over your face. He held onto your jaw and the pressure forced you to open your eyes and meet his gaze.

“You promise?” His words soft and light as if his dick wasn’t hammering on your sensitive spot. You nodded your head as your eyes crossed as you clawed at the hand applying pressure on your throat. Your moans turned to soft but heavy whimpers as your walls tightly clenched around his dick, causing Lewis to hiss against your cheek.

He pounded you faster and faster until both you and the vanity were rattling. You held on tightly as your climax peaked and Lewis held onto you tightly as he coated your walls, his hoarse moans sweetly ringing in your ears. He rutted into you until he was spent.

The smell of your sex and the sound of your breathing were your only companion until you opened your eyes and the first thing you spotted was the crack on the side of the vanity mirror. You couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped.

“What?” Lewis questioned as he untangled himself from you and turned you around until you were facing him.

“We broke the vanity.” You said as you played with his chains. His eyes moved past your head to the crack. He smiled as he turned back to you until his lips met yours and pulled you into a passionate kiss.

“You won’t need this one anymore. I bought you a bigger and sturdier one for the new closet in Knightsbridge.” The lack of hesitation in his statement brought finality to what this was.

“This is it huh?” You smiled as he picked you up in his arms and headed towards the shower.

“This is it. You’re the only one for me, YN.” He smiled as you ran your hands through his now sweat damp curls. You hugged him tighter. Yeah, this was it for you too.

—————————

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suuuupernovaaa · 1 month ago

Text

surprise

summary: despite your mid-level efforts at preventing, you find yourself pregnant with Joel’s child - and you really don’t want to be.

tags: pregnancy, jackson joel, fluff, comfort, established relationship

Based on this request.

MASTERLIST

Shit. Fuck. Shit. Fuck!

The words repeat over and over in your mind, day in and day out. How could you have been so careless? How could you have let this fucking happen?

You’re not an idiot. Not some dumb teenager. You know exactly how babies are made. You know what you and Joel have been doing, damn near constantly, leads to this - and you haven’t been as careful as you could have been.

The two pink little lines haunt you. It’s been four days since you saw them in the bathroom, since they stared at you with their taunting little pink eyes until you vomited, and you’ve avoided Joel since.

Which has been super fucking hard. You don’t live together, even though you’ve discussed making that happen in the near future, but you and Joel have a routine.

He brings you coffee, every morning, to enjoy together on your porch. That is, unless you’ve spent the night together before, and then he doesn’t have to make the long journey Nextdoor to deliver it.

You part ways for your daily duties, whatever they may be, and always meet up again in the late afternoon. You take walks, make dinner together, maybe have a drink at the saloon or watch a movie. Sometimes Joel has more work to do at night. Often you sleep at his house, but you sometimes end up back at your own home, and then it starts again the next day.

You’ve left a note every morning the last four days that you had to head out early, and you’ll see him later.

It’s harder in the evenings to come up with excuses. A headache, sour stomach, spending time with a friend… Joel is too smart to let it go on too long.

But you can’t face him. You feel like a failure. You never really wanted kids, maybe not even before the world ended. Even in the safe town of Jackson Hole, motherhood doesn’t appeal to you. Safety isn’t guaranteed, and it doesn’t feel right to bring a child into a world like this.

But you’ve missed two periods now. You don’t feel right; you’re extra tired, so hungry, and soon, you know you’ll start to show.

You can’t hide it forever.

That evening, day four of avoiding Joel, he pounds on your door at dusk.

Shit. Fuck. Shit.

You take your time going to the door, and try to muster a smile when you pull it open.

“Hey there,” you say, and Joel scowls down at you.

“Don’t ’hey there’ me,” he replies in that gruff twang of his, and practically shoves you aside to enter your home.

You know there won’t be any avoiding it now. You can’t lie to Joel.

“You gonna tell me what the hell is going on with you? I don’t like you avoiding me.” He faces you, his hands on his hips like you’re a child he’s scolding. “I don’t buy it that you’re sick. Fess up.”

You rub your forehead with your fingertips and take in a deep breath that comes back out all shaky.

“I’m pregnant.”

Joel’s hands fall from his hips. Clearly, that’s not what he was expecting.

“Pregnant?”

You wince. “Yeah. I guess maybe, two months along or so.”

Joel walks to your worn leather couch and sits down, rubbing his jaw.

“Pregnant.”

You stay where you are, near the door, in case you need to bolt.

“I… am scared. And sick. I’ve been freaking out.”

“All alone?” he asks, his voice sad, and you feel your heart soften - just a little.

You take one step towards him. “I never wanted to be a mom. I don’t think I’ll be good at it. And I didn’t figure you’d want to, uh, do it all over again.”

He stares at you for a long moment and finally, pats the couch next to him.

You hesitate.

“Come on, girl,” he says, like you’re a skittish horse, but it works. You sink into the couch next to him, and he wraps his arms around you.

“I probably wouldn’t have chosen to have a baby, anymore than you would have. And we do have… options.”

You shake your head. “I know, but I don’t want that. I think I want it. But if you don’t…”

“I do,” he says, so quickly and so firmly, it makes your stomach flutter.

“You do?”

Joel nods, meeting your eyes. “I think you know that you’re the love of my life. If we’d met before, when I was younger, before all this, I’d have married you and had as many kids as we could’ve.” His expression is soft, nearly dreamy. “I’d have worked hard and bought a big house, with a big yard and some dogs. Maybe a farm or something. We’d have been happy.”

You sink into him, picturing it together. It doesn’t sound so bad. “But we met here, honey, and we’ve made the best of it. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me. I want you to move into my house, I want to take care of both of you. Parenting ain’t easy, but we can do it together. Plus, Tommy and Maria will be around. And Ellie. We aren’t alone.”

Your throat feels thick and tears are pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“Are you sure I can do it?” you ask.

Joel holds you close, his chin resting on top of your head. “Never been more sure of anything in my life.”

#joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff

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yuujispinkhair · 15 days ago

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I WANNA BE YOUR ENDGAME – Chapter 14

🏒❤️ A Hockey Romance feat. modern!Sukuna

Pairing: HockeyPlayer!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: College AU, Hockey AU, fluff + smut Playlist: I wanna be your Endgame Word Count: 4.5k Warnings: 18+, smut, cigarettes, alcohol, some rough locker room sex in this chapter ;), Kuna makes Reader squirt. Fuckbuddies to lovers. Reader is a creative writing student. Sukuna is an ice hockey player + history student. This story will have approximately 16 chapters. Minors don't interact. Header by me. Divider @/benkeibear

MASTERLIST

You have been dating Sukuna for two months, and it shows in the clothes you have bought lately. Warm sweaters and thermo leggings, anything to keep you warm in the chilly hockey arena, where you seem to spend more and more time.

You're not just here for Sukuna's games. More often than not, you are also sitting in the stands after your classes, reading the books your literature professor assigned while stealing far too many glances at your man, who is practicing with his teammates, looking too sexy to keep your eyes off him for more than a few minutes at a time.

It was Sukuna who asked you to come to his hockey training more often. Or he didn't outright ask, but told you how much he likes it when you watch him during practice. He whispered it in your ear when he was on top of you in all his naked tattooed glory, pressing you down with his heavy body, spoiling you with strokes so deep and good that you thought you would lose your mind, and of course, it lead to you promising him that you would drop by more often to keep him company during hockey practice.

So basically, you are here because Sukuna and you are equally obsessed with each other. And that thought alone is enough to make you grin from ear to ear.

You are currently sitting on the stands on a Tuesday afternoon, huddled in Sukuna's warm Tigers hoodie and your new fleece leggings, telling yourself you are working on your assignment, but truth be told, you are too busy watching your boyfriend skate across the ice, looking like a full course meal in his black compression shirt.

And Sukuna keeps looking at you, too, grinning that boyish grin and winking at you, not giving a fuck about who can see him flirting with his girl.

He even skates over to you occasionally, putting his gloved hand against the plexiglass and banging on it to capture your attention (as if he didn't already have it),

"Hey, princess! Come here for a sec! I need my lucky charm real quick!"

He smirks at you and jerks his tattooed chin towards a gate a few meters away. You roll your eyes playfully but get up and walk toward Sukuna while teasing him,

"Aww, does the big bad guy have withdrawal symptoms?"

And Sukuna just grins even broader at you, raising an eyebrow,

"Maybe I need a kiss or two. Isn't that part of your job description as my personal lucky charm? I am adding it to the rules right now if it isn't included already."

He looks so charming standing there with that playful grin and the twinkle in his maroon eyes, and you laugh delightedly, opening the gate so you can deliver the motivational kisses Sukuna asked for.

Sukuna leans down to capture your lips with his, giving you a playful, slow kiss. The sexy combination of his cold lips and warm tongue makes your head spin, and you eagerly lick into his mouth before he pulls away again a few seconds later and winks at you.

"Yeah, I am already feeling more energetic. Thank you, princess."

He ruffles your hair, waiting for your squeal of complaint before he laughs and turns around, skating back to his teammates to continue his training while you smooth down your hair and lick your lips, still tasting Sukuna on your tongue.

But even though his girl is here and Sukuna steals all those little moments with you, his coach never complains too much. Because he knows what you know, too: Sukuna isn't slacking. He takes his training seriously.

It's one of the things you love about him. His dedication, his ambition. Sukuna always gives his all. He always wants to be the best. And yet, as important as hockey is to him, he made room for you in his life. He wants you here, wants you in the stands when he has practice, wants you close to him, even if it just means some shared grins across the rink or some stolen kisses in between training sessions.

It's just as Sukuna said to you the night he confessed his feelings to you. He loves to combine his two favorite things in the world: You and hockey.

"Ew, get your dirty sports things off my pretty couch!"

Nobara stands in your shared living area, arms crossed in front of her chest, glaring indignantly at Sukuna, who just dropped by after hockey training and put his sports bag on the couch.

You snicker softly, about to make a joking reply, but your boyfriend is faster. Sukuna laughs and flashes Nobara a big rude grin, almost as if he is enjoying this. Which he probably really is, when you think about it. His eyes glitter with dark enjoyment.

"Chill, Ginger. Your couch should be honored that it gets to touch my bag. Also, you can go through my stuff, you won't find anything dirty. I take very good care of what is mine."

Sukuna's gaze strays to you at those last few words, and he winks at you, making you chuckle. You hold Sukuna's gaze, smiling broadly at him, watching his rude grin soften to a smile. Nobara sighs dramatically, marches over to the couch, and lifts Sukuna's bag with an exaggeratedly disgusted expression on her face before she dumps it on the floor in front of Sukuna's feet,

"Take that thing away! And, God, would the two of you stop it with the eye-fucking!? It's disgusting!"

Which only makes Sukuna's lips lift in a devilish, lopsided grin as he keeps looking at you,

"You heard her, princess. She doesn't like us eye-fucking. Let's go into your room and fuck for real."

Both you and Nobara squeal loudly at his words. Nobara makes a gagging noise, hurrying to the door,

"I am leaving! And if I find your filthy used condom in the bathroom again, I will burn down the hockey arena!"

"Okay, if you don't want it in the bathroom, I'll make sure to put it in the trash can in your room then. Didn't know you are such a fangirl, geez!"

You smack Sukuna's shoulder playfully, and Nobara screams as she bangs the door shut behind her. You laugh, rolling your eyes at Sukuna,

"Maybe you should be a bit nicer to her, Kuna."

"Oh, I fear I can't do that. It's part of my charm. And you're the only one who gets to see my nice side anyway."

And then his lips silence any further complaints, kissing you deep and with all those sexy tongue flicks that make you melt against his tall body, and a few minutes later, you sigh contently as Sukuna's weight settles on top of you on your bed, your hands automatically slipping under his hoodie, caressing his buff muscles, your head tilting back to let Sukuna trail kisses over your neck.

The little dispute with Nobara is forgotten for the next two hours that you spend with Sukuna in your room, making out and fucking, and cuddling afterward. But then he grumbles something about being hungry, and you smile and press a kiss to his neck, murmuring,

"Then go look what we have in the fridge."

Sukuna turns his head to cup your cheek with his hand, pulling you into a sloppy kiss before he gets up from your bed, only putting on his boxer briefs before he goes to the kitchen to raid your and Nobara's fridge.

You smile to yourself, sitting up on the bed as you put on some clothes, too. You are just in the middle of putting on your t-shirt when you hear Sukuna's loud laugh, and he calls out to you,

"Princess! Come here, quick! You won't believe this!"

You raise an eyebrow curiously, hurrying to the kitchen and asking what happened. Then, stop in your tracks when you see Sukuna standing in front of the open fridge, holding up two milk cartons. One of them has a pink sticky note taped to it that says in Nobara's handwriting: For ugly hockey players. Enjoy your milk, Kirby.

For a moment, you blink at the milk carton, and then you burst out laughing while your boyfriend opens it to take a big gulp straight out of the carton.

Nobara returns home a few hours later when Sukuna has already left. You are in the kitchen doing the dishes, and before Nobara can disappear to her room, you quickly call out,

"Hey, why did you put milk for Sukuna in the fridge?"

Nobara makes a huffing sound and turns around to look at you, but one corner of her glossy lips lifts in a half-grin,

"Ah, so he found it."

"Of course, he found it. You know he always takes something from our fridge. But I thought you can't stand him?"

Nobara shrugs, averting her gaze to inspect her long nails,

"He's annoying as fuck. But you like him. So I thought I'd get some milk for your boy."

"Oh... that's really nice, actually. Thank you."

Nobara shrugs again, but you can see the proud glint in her eyes as she flips her hair back.

"Yeah, I am the nicest person ever, of course."

Acting all tough and unimpressed, but after a moment, she sighs and walks over to you and puts an arm around your shoulder, holding you loosely while she adds,

"You're my friend. And you have always been supportive of Maki and me. Now, I am supportive of you and your curse boy, no matter how annoying he is. And at least, when he has his own milk carton now, I can rest assured that his slimy lips don't touch my precious milk!"

Another Saturday, another afternoon in the hockey arena.

The thing about being Sukuna's girlfriend is that you get quite used to seeing your boyfriend winning. Most of the Tigers' games end in a victory, with the whole arena cheering for their star player and Sukuna grinning that big, proud grin.

But tonight is not one of those nights. It doesn't look good for the Tigers.

You can see the fury in Sukuna's eyes with each minute that passes. He gives his all, throws himself brutally into his opponents, fights his ass off to get the puck, doesn't even let himself get stopped by getting slammed into the boards countless times. But still, it's not enough.

The Tigers lose.

You can see the anger sizzling through Sukuna's veins when he leaves the ice. His tattooed jaw is clenched, his posture tense, and the fiery glint in his eyes is downright dangerous. You hope he won't run into any rival player and get provoked because you know it will get him into all kinds of trouble.

Your steps are faster than usual as you make your way toward the locker room, trying to be there for Sukuna before he gets himself into a fistfight, which he will surely regret tomorrow because it will get him suspended from the next game.

When you reach the door of the locker room, the majority of the players already march out. They all look clearly upset, with slumped shoulders and sour expressions on their faces, and you have a feeling they all got changed as fast as possible to get away from a very pissed-off Sukuna.

You catch the door before it can fall shut and tentatively look inside. Yuuji is the first one you see, and he nods at you in greeting, but his face lacks the usual enthusiasm. Even the sunshine boy isn't able to muster up a smile today. You nod back at him, a question in your eyes, and Yuuji jerks his chin toward the other Tigers still in the room,

"Yo, hurry up, guys! Let's grab some drinks to forget about this shitshow!"

Yuuji pulls his hoodie over his head and then ushers his teammates out of the locker room, making sure his brother can have his alone time with you.

You step to the side and wait until the rest of the players have left and then bite your lip, step into the changing room, and let the heavy door fall shut behind you. The typical post-hockey game smell fills your nostrils, a mix of sweat, shower gel, and lingering adrenaline.

Your gaze finds Sukuna. He is still sitting on the bench, his armor off, shirtless, only in his boxer briefs, his abs and chest firm and dripping with sweat. His large hands grip the bench tightly, a furious glint in his eyes as his gaze catches you in the doorway.

It's clear to see that the King is pissed off.

Every fiber of his body screams anger at you, and it makes your breath catch in your throat, and something deep inside you throb excitedly. Because you know what a loss leads to. You know that Sukuna needs you extra badly tonight. You know that he will fuck you hard today, take you mercilessly, fuck all his frustration into you.

And it's exactly what you are here for. To offer your comfort in every way your man needs. And the thing is, you will enjoy every second of it.

"Baby, are you okay?"

You say it in a husky tone, eyes meeting Sukuna's burning-hot gaze across the locker room. Sukuna sends you a sneer, brushing his sweaty pink hair out of his eyes as he looks at you with an intensity that makes you wet instantly.

"I fucking hate this game."

You chuckle softly,

"You played so well. It's not your fault at all."

Sukuna huffs, laughing an unhumorous laugh.

"The whole team fucked up, including me."

You shake your head as you make your way over to your boyfriend. Sukuna never takes his eyes off as you walk towards him while already taking off your sweater and letting it drop carelessly to the floor of the changing room, followed by your leggings, only leaving you in the red lacey bra and panties set you wore specifically for this game.

You thought you would wear it for a victory fuck, but it's also going to serve its purpose for a make-things-okay-again-after-a-loss-fuck.

You can see the rage in Sukuna's tense posture. His broad, naked chest is sweaty, heaving heavily. The veins on his buff, tattooed arms stand out. All his muscles are taut, his jaw clenched. But at the same time, there's a feral hunger in his eyes as he lets his gaze travel slowly over your figure.

The moment you stop in front of him, Sukuna grabs you immediately and pulls you onto his lap. You straddle his thick, tattooed thighs and press yourself against Sukuna's strong, sweaty body, humping against the huge, hot bulge in his boxer briefs.

You know exactly what Sukuna needs tonight.

You lean forward, pressing your tits against Sukuna's chest as you capture his lips in a sweet kiss, even more tender than usual, more loving, despite how pissed off your boyfriend looks right now. It means you only will treat him even more lovingly. Be his sweet girl who comforts him and who he can fuck his angry cock deep into and find sweet relief by taking it all out on your tight wet pussy.

Sukuna rewards you instantly with a low, needy growl, and his large hands tighten roughly around your waist as he pushes his tongue between your lips. There is nothing gentle about the way he kisses you. It's rough and savage, almost brutal. He's fucking your mouth with his tongue, deep and savagely, making a needy mewl fall from your lips as you wrap your arms around Sukuna's thick neck.

You kiss him back eagerly, with tender licks and soft moans, keeping it sweet despite his rough attitude. Your lips trail from Sukuna's lips over his angular jaw to his neck. Kissing and licking before you gently nibble his earlobe and whisper in his ear,

"I'm here for you, baby. Do whatever you want with me. Take it all out on me. Fuck it all into me, Kuna."

Sukuna answers you with a low growl, and his large calloused hands grab your ass and squeeze it hard as he pushes you down on his lap, grinding his hard bulge against you, hot and heavy rubbing against your swollen wet clit, making you soak your panties and his boxers with your sweet arousal.

You moan softly, letting yourself sink heavily onto Sukuna's lap, meeting his movements. Grinding against his hard cock, massaging it with your clothed pussy, feeling him growing even harder against you. You watch Sukuna closely, basking in the way he lets his head fall back against the locker and moan loudly.

His gaze meets yours, and it makes a needy moan fall from your lips, too. Both of you wear the same horny and passionate expression, both knowing exactly what will happen.

You rub yourself slowly against Sukuna, spoiling his cock some more, watching as Sukuna lets you see all the passion on his tattooed face, mouth hanging open, low moans and harsh breaths falling from his lips as he watches you with that feral glint in his maroon eyes.

Sukuna's gaze never leaves yours as he slips the straps of your bra down and then yanks the whole thing down, making your tits spill out of the lacey red cups. The next second, his lips close around one nipple, sucking roughly on it, tongue lapping hungrily at it, making you twitch in his lap and letting out a shaky moan. Sukuna's teeth close around your tit, biting gently, leaving his teeth marks on you, making you gasp his name and tug on his pink hair even as you arch your back against him.

A low growl falls from Sukuna's lips. His tongue is still lapping teasingly at your erect nipple as his fiery gaze burns into yours. His voice is a low, velvety drawl,

"I'm gonna fuck you so hard. Gonna wreck you, princess."

Sukuna's maroon eyes look almost black from how dilated his pupils are, and you bite your lip before caressing his hair and whispering to him,

"Do it, baby. Fuck me as hard as you need. I can take it."

Sukuna lets out a breathless low groan which makes your pussy clench around nothing. One of his hands leaves your ass to grab your chin and caress your jaw firmly, his eyes dark and full of a mix of love and rage and so much passion and need, a lopsided smirk lifting one corner of his lips,

"Be careful what you wish for, sweetheart."

But you just let his thumb slip between your lips and suck it into your warm, wet mouth, looking deeply into Sukuna's eyes as you suckle devotedly on his finger showing him how serious you are about this. How much you are willing to give yourself fully to him and let him do anything he wants with you. Anything he needs tonight.

And Sukuna wouldn't be Sukuna if he didn't take you up on that offer. He smirks at you with a devilish glint in his eyes, and then Sukuna grabs you tightly and gets up with you in his arms, lifting you up as if you weigh nothing, holding you securely in his strong arms.

He slams you against his locker, making you gasp breathlessly as your back hits the cold surface while the rest of your body is covered with Sukuna's buff and overly hot body.

Sukuna's lips claim yours in a hot kiss, tongue so deep in your throat that it sends the craziest butterflies flying in your stomach.

He pushes down his boxer briefs impatiently, freeing his hard cock. It's pulsing with need, the tip swollen with an angry dark pink color, drooling pre-cum all over himself.

He doesn't bother taking off your panties but just yanks them to the side, letting his hot cockhead caress your throbbing clit sending shivers down your spine for a few seconds before Sukuna pulls back.

And then he claims you fully without any prior warning.

You gasp loudly, digging your nails into Sukuna's muscular back, feeling so full when Sukuna's hard cock rams into you deeply, claiming his girl with a hard brutal thrust.

Pleasure explodes behind your closed eyelids, making you feel dizzy from the assault of hard, unrelenting pleasure. You instantly wrap your legs tightly around Sukuna's hips, stuttering his name breathlessly as he fucks you hard and rough against his locker.

Sukuna's skin is hot and sweaty against you, his muscles taut, his low groans in your ear so fucking sexy and feral. He is so loud tonight. Growling and moaning loudly in your ear. Unrestrained, sexy noises full of lust and need and anger while Sukuna snaps his hips furiously against you.

It's a hard fuck. Primal. Like a big predator driven out of his mind by the need to mount his mate. Hard, angry thrusts. So deep and rough that you know you will feel him for days.

But you would lie if you said this isn't exactly what you want. You love to feel Sukuna like this. Love to let him use you like this. Love to feel his fat angry cock push into you and hear Sukuna's desperate, feral grunts. You love knowing that you are the only one who can comfort Sukuna after a loss. By letting him fuck you like this, rough and needy, against his locker, finding relief in your tight wet cunt.

You urge him on with breathless moans whispered in his ear and your legs wrapping tightly around his taut ass and fingernails digging into his buff muscles, needy just like him, clinging to him, your wet pussy clenching around him greedily.

Sukuna's mouth captures yours in another savage kiss, and you moan into it, licking against his tongue tenderly, eyes closed while you cling to him and take his thick angry cock all too happily.

The two of you are in a frenzy. Nothing but the two of you exists. Only Sukuna and you. Only his lips on yours and his cock deep inside you. You doubt the two of you would be able to stop even if someone walked in on you right now.

Sukuna's lips wander to your neck, kissing, sucking, his teeth grazing over your sensitive skin before he bites you lightly. His low voice is husky, filled with a sexy mix of arousal and anger when he grounds out,

"I. Fucking. Hate. Losing."

Every word gets accentuated by a rough thrust directly onto your sweet spot.

You mewl loudly, legs shaking as you feel tears stream down your cheeks from how good it feels to get fucked like this, Sukuna's name falling from your lips like a prayer.

Your fingers dig into Sukuna's broad back, your voice hoarse when you moan in his ear, urging him on,

"Yes! Fuck me, baby! Fuck it all into me. Take it all out on me, Kuna!"

He fucks the first orgasm out of you right then and there. It crashes over you unexpectedly, hot and wild, making you squeal his name as your pussy clenches wildly around Sukuna's cock, your legs shaking as you cum hard on his fat cock.

Sukuna groans, but he isn't finished with you. He slams you even harder against the locker with deep, brutal thrusts that make you squeal and sob, already feeling another orgasm building deep inside you.

It feels like it's too much. Like you will melt away if Sukuna keeps going and makes you cum one more time like this. But it feels so damn good, and you sob loudly, clinging desperately to Sukuna, your legs wrapped tightly around his muscular ass, your nails leaving scratches on his back.

Sukuna's voice is so sexy, low, husky, and laced with those feral grunts and deep moans, giving in to his most primal urges as he ruts into you,

"Don't hold back! Give me another! Fucking squirt on my cock!"

His hand forces itself between your bodies, thick calloused thumb rubbing furiously at your stiff clit, so fast and intense that you cry out, feeling your body lose control, panicking for a second, but Sukuna groans in your ear,

"Yeah, just like that, make a big fucking mess all over me!"

It's not a suggestion but a command, and it drives you insane, that natural dominance, that sexy control Sukuna emits. You clench around Sukuna's cock again, eyes closed, mouth opening in a wild cry as you feel yourself tumble over the edge again, his nasty words making you lose all control.

The waves of your orgasm crash over you unrelentingly, so hard it makes you see black for a moment as you scream and your pussy spasms around Sukuna's huge cock, milking him wildly as your juices spray out of you uncontrollably, squirting all over his cock and his heavy balls, wet, hot and messy, just like he told you to.

Sukuna growls but doesn't stop drilling his cock into you, fucking you roughly, smacking your pussy with his taut heavy balls anytime he pushes into you. Fucking you through your orgasm, with the nastiest wet sounds, as he fucks your creamy wetness back into you, while grunting loudly in your ear, low sexy noises, harsh breaths, as Sukuna chases his own orgasm now.

Sukuna cums with an unrestrained loud groan. His hips stutter against yours, and he presses you against the locker, ramming his twitching cock impossibly deep into you for his orgasm. His strong body is so close to you, hot and sweaty and brimming with passion.

You mewl his name, not able to stop yourself from clenching around him as he shoots his hot ropes of cum deep into you. Sukuna is so sexy like this when he loses control and lets himself get overtaken by his most primal needs. Loud groans fall from his lips, his whole muscular body is taut, his heart racing wildly against your breasts as he empties his balls and all his anger into you.

Gradually, Sukuna's loud groans turn into low sighs and labored breathing. He pulls away only enough so he can grab your chin with one of his large hands and tilt your head back, making you look up into his maroon eyes, which are heavy-lidded with lust and satisfaction.

The eye contact is so intense, so intimate with the way Sukuna's cock is still buried to the hilt inside you after he came in you, his hot seed deep inside you, your wetness clinging to his cock, your bodies touching everywhere, your breaths mingling, both of you still high from your orgasms.

Sukuna flashes you one of his lazy, sexy smirks,

"You're such a fucking good girl for me."

His lips claim yours in another rough kiss that makes you moan softly.

Sukuna kisses you deep and hard, his cock still buried balls deep in you, while Sukuna is still rocking against you slowly, still fucking you with his spent cock, overstimulating himself because he can't pull out yet, needing you too much. It makes you whine into the kiss and caress the taut muscles on Sukuna's broad back and buck your hips against him getting every last drop of his seed, every last caress his half-hard cock can give you.

The kiss becomes slower, lazier, sloppy, and, oh, so tender. And Sukuna's cock finally slips out of you, half-hard, gradually softening now, resting heavy and hot against your skin, slick from his cum and your juices, pulsing hotly against you, and you moan his name, just when Sukuna murmurs, "I love you." against your kiss-swollen lips.

You smile softly at Sukuna, cupping his tattooed cheek and caressing it gently.

"I love you, too, baby. Are you feeling better now?"

Sukuna laughs softly and carefully lowers you back down until your feet touch the ground. His muscular arms stay wrapped around you, though, not letting you go away just yet. A playful grin lifts his lips.

"Yeah, you always know what I need, princess. Thank you. But I promise that next time, we'll have a victory fuck again. I am not going to fucking lose twice in a row!"

You laugh, patting Sukuna's cheek playfully, and shake your head theatrically,

"Of course you won't, baby."

AAAHHH angry Kuna does something to me 😵😵

I am so glad I finally managed to post this new chapter! I hope that some of you are still interested in this story and that you enjoyed the update! Thank you so much to everyone who left encouraging messages in the last few weeks! I am kissing youuuu 😘💗

Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.

#sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #sukuna fluff #sukuna #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #jjk fluff

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rafesbabygirlx · 1 month ago

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ONLINE LOVE | 𝙵𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗

𝚂𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎𝚍𝚊𝚍!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝙰𝚄

✧ 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃 | 𝙰𝚄 𝙼𝙰𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃 | 𝚃𝙰𝙶𝙻𝙸𝚂𝚃

✧ Summary- Rafe Cameron used to avoid love, only having flings and never getting close to anyone. Now 27 and raising his 3-year-old daughter Harper alone, he wants something more, a real connection. Tired of being judged on the island, he tries Hinge and sets his location to the mainland. After days of no matches, he finds your profile and is instantly drawn to you.

✧ Prompt- for hingematch!rafe could you do one where hes been busy with his daughter and doesnt realise hes left her on delivered and she thinks hes ghosted her?

✧ Prompted here

It had been a month. A month of back and forth texting, FaceTime calls, and learning more about each other. Rafe surprisingly opened up about a lot to you, other than the fact that he had his daughter. He still didn’t know how to bring this up. Now worried it would ruin everything.

You had off today so you and Rafe had spent all night on the phone. You had fallen asleep first so when you woke up you wanted to make it a point to text him.

9:29am: Hi, how pathetic am I fallen asleep on you like that?

9:30am: My first year residency is kicking my ass, I’m shocked that I even stayed up as late as I did.

9:31am: I’m free all day today, finally have a day off, so don’t be shy in texting me! 🥰

9:44am: I’m sure you’re at work and busy. Like I said I’m free all day. I just can’t wait to hear your voice again.

You hadn’t mean to sound desperate. This past month you and Rafe had been on top getting back to each other the second with of you had texted. You had both shared your schedules, you knew when he’d be in meetings and he knew when you’d be working at your internship. The second either was over, one of you was immediately sending a text. Unless there was an emergency meeting he got pulled in to, this was a bit of a strange break in the pattern.

You busied yourself as best as you could. You made yourself a nice breakfast, something you barely get to do anymore. Then, you caught up on some of your tv shows and when they were done you began a new book. You took a full pamper shower, cleaned up your nails, did your hair routine, your skincare, and applied some makeup.

It had been 4 hours and when you finally picked back up your phone it was still radio silence from Rafe. You let out a sigh of defeat. Mind racing that something that seemed so precious could already be over. He hadn’t even read the texts. You don’t mean to jump to conclusions, but no matter how well this seemed to be going, he was only just an online dating match who ended up living 5 hours away from you.

On the other side of North Carolina, Rafe was a mess. Harper had claimed she had a stomach ache and refused to go to school, meanwhile he caught the toddler in the pantry sneaking cookies and gummies 3 times this morning. He told her the only thing she was allowed to do was lay in bed and get rest if she was that sick. This lead to full blown tantrums and Rafe wanting to pull out the short hair of his buzzcut.

Between Harper fighting him all morning and having to rearrange his business schedule, this glued Rafe to his office desk. His personal phone was forgotten on his nightstand and he didn’t get a chance to think about it. He left the office door open, which gave him a perfect view of Harper’s and the hundreds of times he caught her sneaking out of it.

“Harper get back here!”

“No daddy, I want more snacks.”

“You said your tummy hurt, were you lying to me?”

“No.”

“Don’t lie to daddy, Harper.”

“Yes.”

Harper bowed her head in defeat. A cute way of defeat only a 3 year old could get away with. This caused Rafe to kneel in front of his daughter, lifting her chin delicately with his fingers.

“Why’d you lie Harper?”

“I don’t like school, I wanted to be with you. You mwake me safe.”

“Why would you need me to keep you safe baby?”

“Cause kids are mean and I don’t like ‘em.”

“Oh baby, I’m sorry. How about this, we spend the rest of the day doing anything you want? Snacks, movies, tea party. How’s that sound?”

Harper’s face lit up and she threw herself into her dad’s arms, wrapping hers around his neck and hugging him tightly.

“Yes daddy! Come!”

Rafe laughed as he allowed the toddler to drag him into the kitchen. She pulled out the tea set from the lower cabinet that was designated for all her stuff. Rafe put on some water to boil, then she went to pantry to pull out snacks she wanted for tea time.

They brought up everything to her room. Harper knew exactly how to set everything up. A setting for her, a setting for Rafe, and two other settings for her stuffed elephant and American Girl doll Sarah had gotten her.

They spent the entire day doing what Harper wanted. Rafe let his assistant know he would be unreachable as he just wanted to focus on his daughter. This was the first she brought up having problems at preschool. How the hell were 3 year olds already having issues. He got her to open up about it and it was 2 boys that would take her crayons and break them when she’d color or steal her gummies at lunch time.

Rafe took offense to that personally because he was always proud of himself for making her lunches every morning. But he quickly shook off the feeling of being pissed off at a 3 year old. Heloved being a dad and making Harper happy. He didn’t want to be sad or afraid to go to school. So to just do this little thing for her to see her smile, he was more than ok to do it.

When the time came around for Harper’s bedtime, he brushed through her now dried hair from the bath and tucked her into bed.

“You’re gonna have to go to school tomorrow Princess. I know it’s scary, but you’re a tough girl, I’ll come in with you tomorrow and talk with your teachers. We’ll figure this out together. Ok?”

Harper gave a soft sigh and looked like she wanted to plead with her dad to not go in another day. “Ok. Ima tough girl.”

“That’s right. I love you little one.”

“I love you daddy.”

Rafe had given her one final kiss before making his way to his bedroom and plopping down onto his sheets. He had forgotten about his phone all day and had decided to pick it up. There were notifications from Sarah, Topper, Kelce and all the way at the bottom there were four missed messages from you.

He ran his hand over his face. He never missed a text from you. He always had Do Not Disturb on and you’ve been the only one this past month that could still get through to him. He was stuck on what to say. His entire day was spent making sure his daughter had been happy. His daughter, you had no idea about. What could he even say?

It was now 8:30 at night. You had just cleaned up the kitchen from cooking dinner earlier. Mind finally at ease from the doubt and wary feeling about being ignored. You knew you shouldn’t have gotten attached, no matter how good it felt. He probably found someone closer to him and forgot all about you. Online dating has never turned out great for you. This was just another disappointing failure.

You sat on the couch, trying to push aside your thoughts as you engulfed yourself in your favorite movie. Your phone is next to you laying face down. It was almost 9 and even with a relaxing day of doing what you loved you were already feeling tired again. You rested your head in the palm of your hand as you our eyes began to close, a ping from your phone shot them right back open.

Embarrassingly, you reached for it quicker than you’d like to admit. You look at the notification and see it’s Rafe. You hold back a smile, not ready for what it says.

8:55pm: Hi. I’m really sorry about today. From the second I woke up chaos was erupting at the office. I had to get up and ready and rush out the door. I completely forget my personal phone at home and just got back. I missed you today. 🩵

You let out a breath that you didn’t even realize you were holding and smile warmly at the message. You were scared of rejection and know he feels this way you reply instantly not caring how it makes you look anymore.

8:57PM: No need to apologize Mr. CEO. Some things are unpredictable, it’s easy to get caught up, I’m still here for you.

Rafe took a sigh of relief at your response. He didn’t want to ruin this. But the gnawing guilt of lying to you about Harper made him terrified of what was yet to come. You said you loved kids. But would you love him when you found out he had a daughter?

For now the only thing to do was to continue to talk to you. Learn more about you. Hopefully you would understand why he was doing what he was doing. It was to protect Harper. You’d understand, right?

Tags + some moots: @rafestoothbrush @weluvwbb @itsforeverandalwayz @butterfly-ibuki @megiiite @siredbtches @bigenergy777 @aupernatural-teenwolflover @rafegf-real @skywalker0809 @snowtargaryen @kieeslove @leather-n-velvet @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @diasnohibng @slurpdew @alphabetically-deranged @whydoesthemirrorhateme @currentresidentinhell @slut-4-rafey @akobx @rafesheaven @laniirackssss @jjmaybankmylovee @slut4you @larema121 @tul1preads @wuluhwuhmaster @inthelibrarybtw @littlelamy @bellaballerina111 @pogueprincesa @daddyrafeslittleslut @nemesyaaa @papercranesandinkstains @frankoceanluvr11 @drewsephrry @zyafics @rafeysvenicebitch @rowdydevs @maybankslover @rafesgreasycurtainbangs

I think I have everyone tagged <3

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prismagpie · 1 year ago

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"I don't even wanna be associated with the word snitch," Ash scoffed, brushing himself down and adjusting the collar of his jacket as though preparing himself for his next steps. Once upon a time, Ash had tried to declare himself a reformed thief, purely because he'd managed to kick what felt like a bad habit, but he remained a thief in any other way that mattered. The only real difference was that he no longer swiped things out of compulsion; now, if he was stealing something, it was very much intentional. Less compulsion, more impulsion. As to what was worse, well, that was not Ash's concern. Either way, his having jumped at the chance to actively help someone else shoplift more effectively had probably spoiled any chances at reformation or redemption, at least for the next couple years. (The truth was that, sometimes, having a partner in crime just made things a little more exciting.)

"Exactly my point, then. If you can't have too much, why settle for one?" said Ash, coolly. Sure, it was safer to just grab something small and run. People rarely ever noticed if you were quick enough. But an open place like this might require a little more work and, at that point, don't you deserve something extra for the hard work? His gaze washed over the shelves of eyeshadow and he shrugged. He could probably do with replacing his go-to pallet. Maybe, he'd even go for something a little nicer for once. One side-step over and he was in front of the eyeliner. Now he'd been reminded like this, it occurred to him that his liquid liner was running dry, both in the sense that it was nearly empty and that he'd been using it long enough that the brush itself had begun drying out a little while ago. However, Ash did not grab a tube off the shelf just yet. "So, who should be the decoy?" he asked, an eyebrow raised. "How good are you at lying and causing a fuss?"

Though Ava had a bullish tendency to refuse help (no matter how well meaning), sooner muscling her way through a perfectly avoidable situation rather than openly admit when she's wrong, her ears still perked up whenever she felt like she could actually learn something from someone. Particularly when it came to doing things she was passionate about, suddenly the urge to observe temporarily eclipsed her sense of pride. If it meant getting better at something she loved, she was willing to listen. It just so happened that this interest in particular involved committing a misdemeanor. Go figure.

Keeping her gaze fixed ahead to avoid drawing attention to the security camera Ash pointed out, Ava casually glanced at a nearby display instead, catching a glimpse of the camera in her peripheral vision. A smug grin playing on her lips at the affirmation that no one else saw what she'd done (and, more importantly, that he wouldn't be ratting her out for it either), the hairdresser let her shoulders relax. "Good. Can't stand a snitch, would've ruined my whole day." Worse than that, she didn't even want to imagine this incident making it back to her family, so she was grateful to have found a willing accomplice instead. Checking out a display of eyeshadows next to him, she shrugged, plucking a palette of cool tones off of the shelf. "Just for the thrill of it. But a girl can never have too many shades of red lipstick." Quirking a brow at his challenge, Ava felt an undeniable wave of excitement come over her at the idea of leaving the store with more than a single tube. "Did you have something in mind? If one of us is gonna be the distraction, why not pick something out for yourself?"

#« ᴀsʜ ʏᴏᴏɴ » / 「 replies. 」#« ᴀsʜ ʏᴏᴏɴ » / 「 & ava. 」#ONCE AGAIN I DELIVER YOU A REPLY SEVERAL MONTHS LATE.............I AM SO SORRY #i like that this thread is pretty much just....two ppl being bad influences on each other simultaneously ASDFGHJ

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lorelune · 3 months ago

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inversion

|| rin itoshi x reader || E/18+ || angst with a happy ending || wc: 7.2k || ao3 ||

Preemptive grief defines your relationship with Rin. Heartbreak is in the nature of your connection. You are forced to reckon with its end.

minors, antis and ageless blogs dni

notes: eeeeeee this piece is part of a trade i'm doing with beloved @rabbbitseason :3c they asked for angst + rin and i am here to deliver a bruisy piece 🙂‍↕️!!!! he was an interesting (read: slippery) character to chew!! but very fun as well :3c thank you to @suguwu for beta reading this piece and talking through rin's character as well!!! jun's invaluable feedback rlly helped bring the piece together. please read and enjoy something a bit achey my kind reader 💗

CWs: angst with a happy ending, gn reader with afab anatomy, rin is assumed to be 20+ and playing professionally, f receiving oral, missionary, some possible abandonment issues for the reader

You do not mean to fall in love with Rin Itoshi.

Distinctly, you did not want to fall in love with him. Because he is probably not a good lover, nor does he want to be a lover at all. It’s a poor combination. Being enamored with him is a poor way of being.

It’s unfortunate that you have found yourself in this position— hopelessly in love and irrevocably attached to him.

...

Drizzle falls from the sky in a mist. It’s been like this for days, a haze of light rain with thick fog that rolls in during the mornings. You’ve almost gotten used to your hair frizzing up and returning home damp from any outing.

It’s unpleasant. But then again, everything is unpleasant at this moment, so the rain is the least of your worries.

Rin Itoshi is on your front stoop.

There’s a little cement step there that he sits on. In front of your door, just behind him, is a welcome mat. A large, ceramic cat is set just next to the door. As you walk up to your home, grocery bags in tow, you cannot see your normal, friendly guardian.

Instead, all you see is Rin Itoshi.

Stopping in the little walkway up to your small home, you let the rain drench you. Rin looks up from the ground with an expression between a scowl and a pout. His hood is drawn up over his head, but his hair still looks wet. The tips of his shoes are soaked through. Even from a distance, you can tell.

You sigh.

“You’re home late,” he says. His words get eaten by the ambient sounds of the city, and the pittering of rain on nearby roofs.

You raise your arms, trembling with the weight of your haul. “Groceries.”

“Hm.”

You frown and Rin rises.

He takes your bags, taking them from you and easily looping them on a single forearm. He moves aside so you can slip past him, to your door, now able to see your fat-bodied kitty cat protector (who really isn’t doing much protecting at the moment—) and give him a nod of acknowledgement.

Rin makes a sound behind you; a huff. He’s amused. You contend with kicking his shin but decide against it.

Like a lost, wet puppy, Rin follows you inside.

There’s a pair of house slippers for him; there has been for months. The fuzzy fabric of the slippers is patterned to look like big, pink cat paws. You purchased them for Rin as a joke, a gag that you didn’t expect to get a rise out of him beyond a heavy blush, and yet he took to them immediately. His pair sits next to your own slippers like the two belong next to each other.

Rin shuffles behind you.

(How many times have you done this?)

You turn on the electric kettle and put away the groceries Rin has carried inside for you. You mentally plan out your meals for the week and concurrently catastrophize about what the fuck to do with the man in front of you.

He leans against your kitchen counter. His outer layer has been shed, all he’s in now is a (somehow, still damp) white t-shirt and his warm-up joggers. Rainwater still clings to his bottom lashes, dew-like. You lean forward, cupping his face to brush the moisture away. His cheeks are clammy, still so chilled.

(It’s all too tender.)

“You’re cold.” You frown. “Go sit down. I’ll finish making tea.”

“I am sitting down.”

“Leaning isn’t sitting.”

“Close enough.”

You sigh. “I meant in the other room, preferably with a blanket.”

“I’ll wait.”

You sigh, “Fine.”

It’s not worth arguing with Rin.

Rin is so— so— frustratingly single-minded. Motivated in a single direction to a fault. You’ve long since learned that attempting to sway him, regardless of how sensible and sensical of an idea you have, is fruitless. If it doesn’t align with what he has already decided he is going to do, he simply won’t change. It’s something rather immutable about him.

His nature is as stubborn as his thoughts.

(Loving him is so difficult; you wish that you didn’t.)

Rin grabs two mugs (your mugs) while you fetch the tea. It’s the same selection as it always is— your cup of ginger and honey, and his plain peppermint.

You only settle once the two of you make your way to the couch, side-by-side, covered in the worn quilt that Rin likes best. It’s a tawny mix of grey and tan yarn. You picked it up from a thrift store years ago. You never would’ve thought that it would become such an integral part of a pathetic, mutual routine.

Rin is stiff beside you. One glance at him tells you that he’s chewing on his words. He doesn’t tend to— to do that. He doesn’t mince anything that flows from his brain to his lips. Your stomach rolls with a sense of unease.

“Is everything alright?” You ask.

(It never is, not really, when this routine is being completed.)

Rin looks at him. His gaze is piercing, crystalline. It lances you. “I’m leaving.”

You know this already; you aren’t supposed to.

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“... For how long?” This you don’t know.

“A while.” Rin's hands ball into fists on the tops of his thighs. “Half a year, at least.”

“I see.”

(You feel your world begin to cave in.)

An eerie quiet settles over the room. The rain patters outside, streaking your windows in droplets, obscuring the greater world. It makes it feel like all that exists is you, Rin, and the lucid knowledge that your connection has nearly run its course.

You swallow; it’s audible. “Where to?”

“Europe.”

“Europe’s big. Countries—?”

“Germany, Italy, and France,” replies Rin. “Maybe more.”

The back of your eyes sting. “I could visit?”

“I’ll be busy.”

“... Could you not make time?”

(Could you not make time for me?)

“I don’t know.”

“Hm.” You feel something cold and dreadful coat your insides.

Your tea is cooling down, steam hardly rising from the mug now. You take a sip of it, and hold the mug in both hands, grasping onto the warmth that radiates off of it. The ceramic of the vessel still holds heat, enough to scald your palms. Yet, you don’t put it down.

This big, unspoken thing lingers between you both. It writhes, swirls, like it always does when you enter this routine. There’s always been an impending end date to your connection, even if neither of you could quantify the time you had left together. Rin's career, his ambitions, his nature to not just excel, but crush and break in tandem, have always floated above your dynamic.

This thing would immolate eventually.

(And you along with it.)

...

You end up in your bedroom, the gloomy day sliding into a thickly dark night. You’re not even sure if the moon is out. The room only glows with light from a few soft lamps. The spray of them catches the angles of Rin’s face well. Even with age, his face hasn't hardened all that much. He still has pudge in his cheeks that he can’t shake. It makes him look younger, more innocent, like there hasn’t been a thing in him, forever, threatening to devour him as it craves to brutalize others.

Another part of your routine commences once you enter your soft, kindly-lit bedroom. Sex— of some sort. Today it feels bad. You’re not sure what’s coming other than grief.

Stripping feels like a funeral march. The drizzle that continues to fall outside may as well be a dirge.

Rin pulls his shirt over his head and off. It’s a quiet affair today, though typically it isn’t. On a more normal day, when you aren’t witnessing your romantically entangled decay in real-time, there’s banter. You might rib Rin, he may respond with his own barbed remark that you find a bit silly. It’s fun, despite Rin’s perpetually bruised demeanor.

Today, though, there’s no humor. No jesting. All that’s left is the unfathomable depth of— something behind Rin’s eyes and the ache in your chest that you’re afraid will kill you.

You kneel on your bed, left only in a sweater, goofy-looking socks, and panties. The stupid satiny kind that you think is kind of uncomfortable, but you know Rin enjoys. He leaves his boxers on, coming to rest on his own knees across from you.

Your eyes feel damp, you feel stupid, and can’t make yourself look at him.

“Don’t be a crybaby,” he tells you.

You scoff, the sound warbly and your voice watery. “Like you’re any better.”

(Rin isn’t the crybaby notably. You think he gets close to it sometimes. Maybe that’s just your own wishful thinking.)

(You want Rin to crack; it would make your own fissures less shameful.)

Rin kisses you then like he can hear your thoughts, and kissing you hard on the mouth will extract them from your brain. It does, in a way. He’s warm and familiar. You love him so terribly.

You cup his cheeks in your palms, still aching from your mug earlier. You don’t care. You couldn’t make yourself care as you lean into him, pitching your weight forward. For all the things Rin isn’t good at, he is good at catching you. He bears the weight of you easily, wrapping an arm around your waist and securing you with a hand on the nape of your neck.

He’s so solid. Bigger than he appears. Firm muscle over firm muscle, he’s so entirely unyielding beneath your hands. There are so many parts of him that contradict each other; it’s what drew you to him in the first place. Rin Itoshi has always been a spectacle for you to untangle and know, even if, at first, it was just to satiate your own curiosity about the foul-mannered, enigmatic man he appears to be.

Unfortunately, now, you have untangled Rin. The essence of him has been unraveled in your hands, laying across your palms like sheets of satin fabric— the kind that catches the light and almost shimmers in sun rays and moonbeams alike. Rin is so much more fragile than he appears, tough at some angles, but so bruiseable at others. This knowledge is held by you so intimately, you cherish it, what else can you do?

It’s damning. It’s made you love him.

You stifle a noise against his lips and fall into him more.

In a single motion, Rin has you on your back, laid beneath him while he straddles your hips. He doesn’t stop kissing you. If anything, the leverage has him leaning into you more deeply. It’s suffocating, the weight of his body and him over you. Like it’s bearing down into your soul.

Rin licks into your mouth and you let him.

It’s almost gross when he kisses you like this. Filthy— dirty. He practically plunders the inside of your mouth, running his tongue over the back of your teeth, pushing it against your own, spit dripping out of the corners of your mouth. If you felt like you could be properly romantic with Rin, you might even say it’s a claiming act.

But you can’t be romantic with Rin. Because this doesn’t matter. The physicality you share serves the function of physical release and gratification. You love him and it is useless that you do. These are immutable facts.

(Facts that you hate, despise, and loathe. Why can’t he love you—? Why can’t he— just understand?)

You growl against his lips and shove at his chest.

“Just—” You sigh, turning your head to the side. You can’t look in his eyes or you’ll immolate. “Fuck me already, okay?”

Rin wordlessly presses his forehead against your temple. His hands claw into your hips. He’ll leave bruises, but they’ll never last the six months that he’ll be gone for. You’ll be a distant memory to him by then, you’re certain.

Something awful and far too hot is boiling in your chest.

“No,” says Rin

“No?”

“No.” He repeats, dragging his nose down to your jaw, then your throat.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to yet.”

“Well, get a move on then.” You scoff. The watery quality of your voice has shifted to something sharper, angrier.

“What’s with you?” He sighs out of his nose and it makes you flinch. “Why are you acting like this?”

“Like what?”

“Like this—” Rin tugs your jaw to face him and holds you there. You’re stuck looking into his eyes, azure and shiny like polished stones. Full of something you can’t name, lest you break your heart further.

(Your delusions are both damning you and saving you.)

Your eyes water; maybe you are a crybaby. “Fuck off.”

Rin kisses you hard again, flattening himself to you. He’s a cage like this, where you can only take what he gives you and—

(Rin gives you everything. Because that’s how he is with things he cares about.)

You feel like you're melting into the duvet as you desperately claw into Rin’s scalp, raking your hands through his hair. A pathetic noise bubbles up from your throat, pours from your mouth into Rin’s, and he takes it in kind. He always does.

(He shouldn’t be reliable, but he is.)

It’s hard to think when he kisses you like this. Rin’s physicality is consuming, like he’s attempting to crush you and absorb you into him. It’s an intoxicating type of connection; it’s part of why you linger within your entanglement. In the moments you’re under him, intertwined with him like this, god, touching at all— you can’t do anything but think of Rin and his attention.

You kick him because he’s leaving— he’s leaving you and he isn’t letting you follow.

Rin grunts at the impact, even though you don’t kick him all that hard. You nip him at the same time—

You’re so angry.

All the dread in you is angry, bitter like bile, and white hot. Preemptive grief, loss that you have to start swallowing before Rin isn’t even out of your arms.

“I hate you—” You tell him against his lips.”You’re awful. You’re the worst—”

Rin breaks away from you in an instant, slamming you back on the bed by the shoulder in a single, decisive motion. It makes your head spin.

“You don’t mean that.”

“And what if I did?” It’s not convincing, your voice is wobbling too much for it to be. You stare up at him, lips curling.

“You’re being a brat.”

“Oh my god, says you—” You roll your eyes. “You’re the brat here. Just— fucking kiss me—”

“No.”

“Then fucking leave already—!”

Rin holds you steady by the jaw, bowing over your body. You can’t look anywhere other than him. It’s consuming, like you’re being engulfed by a rushing tide.

“Stop. It.” His words are clipped, filled with his own anger. His grip is too tight; you fear he may crush you.

“Choke.”

“You’re throwing a tantrum.”

“So what if I am?” you laugh, the sound too high and airy to be comfortable. “If it bothers you so much, just leave already. It’s not like you want to be here. Does passing time in my bed make it go faster for you, Rin? Getting your last taste of this before you fuck off and leave—?”

“That’s what this is about?”

“What else would it be about!”

Your voice breaks and you close your eyes. God, you don't want to cry, but it feels unavoidable now. All of Rin’s attention, potential vitriol, judgment, and rejection is pointed at you. You might as well fucking die.

Rin is quiet over top of you, like a dark, stormy cloud in its last moments before a thunder crack. Heat lightning crackles between the two of you, but nothing strikes the ground yet.

“It’s better for you to stay here,” he says eventually.

“Why do you think that?” You sound exasperated.

Rin’s quiet again, then speaks like he’s seated at a confessional, and not over your hips.

“You shouldn’t be around me too much when I’m playing,” Rin confesses and squeezes your jaw. “It’s bad enough here. All I’ll be doing is playing soccer—”

“And that’s what you want, right?”

“Yes—” Rin admittance hits you in the chest and you have to let out a steadying breath, so you don’t shatter right there. “And you can’t be there for that.”

“Why?”

Rin lets go of your jaw and you open your eyes.

His own jaw is tight, his bottom lip bitten between his teeth. His eyes are wet, almost like there could be tears threatening to spill into his lower lashes. Maybe you’re imagining it.

“Trust me.” His tone is a bowstring. You’re both ready to snap. “Please.”

A whine echoes from your throat, out of your control.

(You love him and you hate seeing someone you love hurt—)

You can’t help yourself. You tug him down by the shoulders and into you, so he can lay over your chest. He lets you, so easily, and tucks his face into the curve of your neck. He hides there, arms wrapping around your middle, so tightly that you’re sure that you’ll ache there the next day.

It hurts, it hurts— not the pressure on your ribs, but having the atypically unsteady presence of Rin in your arms. It’s not uncommon for the two of you to cuddle, Rin is clingy, especially after sex, but it is odd to see him this visibly upset. It hurts because he’s hurting. It hurts because he’s choosing to leave and telling you not to follow, despite... everything. It hurts so deep in your chest, that you let yourself become so involved and in love with him.

You bury your face in his hair and shake.

...

Rin is bad at protecting people.

It’s a given, knowing his nature and the fact that he had an older brother closely looking out for him for most of his life, makes his ineptitude at protection make sense.

He clearly wants to be. He has the strength and tenacity to bare his teeth and claw, but you don’t think Rin knows which way to direct his fear and grief— whether to inflict wrath on himself, the aggressor, or the person he actually means to protect.

You can’t blame him. Some things, Rin only understands in theory and not in practice. Rin is so highly attuned to feelings but so absolutely atrocious at empathizing. You think— with you— he tried. He even succeeded at points, which makes your own heartbreak feel all that more infectious and virulent.

Your back is laid out over your duvet, your legs cradling Rin’s hips. He has three fingers in you, stretching you out with as much care and intention as he can muster. You can tell by the furrow in his brow, the peek of his tongue sticking out from his lips. Pleasure burns in your core, but the sensation is eclipsed by a well of fondness and grief, drowning you.

Rin slides onto his stomach and hikes your legs over his shoulders. He takes one of your hands and places it into his hair. You knot your fingers into the soft texture of it and tug. He likes when you do that, when you try to take from him. Rin shudders between your thighs, huffing a breath into the pudge of them. He nips.

On another night, you’d scold him and give him a playful amount of grief for it.

Tonight, you want him to bite you so hard that you bleed and scar.

(Would he? He’s so scared of hurting you, even if he doesn’t say it. He is hurting you. A sick part of you wants him to do material harm to you, so you’ll have something tangible to remember him by. An imprint of his teeth in your thigh would be too romantic, maybe. Too much to ask for.)

Rin kisses up toward your cunt, taking his time over the outside of it. He breathes in the scent of you, long and hard, a few times. A wishful part of you hopes that he is committing it to memory.

“Hurry up,” you snap.

“No.” Rin keeps fucking denying you. Haste would make this hurt less. You could speed things up to the inevitable end where Rin Itoshi has thrown this— you— away and you are left alone. Instead, he prolongs it. Instead he is carving a piece of you out, in the shape of himself, the wound never to fill as cicatrix and heal.

You drag him closer by the hair and grind against his face—

“Impatient—” he says against your cunt with a growl. His arms wrap around your hips, holding you down and in place, keeping you from squirming.

It’s needed as he drags his tongue over your cunt, dipping the tip of it into your hole before landing on your clit. He laps at it, at you, humming and groaning as you tug at his hair. The motion you’re allowed lets you just barely grind against his face. It’s not enough contact. You want more, need more, but Rin is only giving you so much.

“God,” you breathe out. “Fuck you.”

Rin practically growls, the vibration of the sound against your sex makes your back arch, a pretty, croaking sound dripping from your throat. He dives into you with more fervor, digging hand-shaped bruises into your hips.

The pleasure comes to you like licks of a flame, just as scorching as they are whimsical. Your toes curl as Rin’s sucks your clit. There’s finesse in his actions. There didn’t used to be, at the start of things, but now Rin knows your body so intimately—

(It feels crushing to know this will be the last time—)

It feels like you’ve been struck.

Never again— this is it—? The last time he’ll be in your bed, between your thighs, in your arms. You’ll never get to share this proximity with Rin Itoshi again. Not this version of him, anyway. You know what the journey that he’s about to embark on will do to him. The Rin that you know won’t exist for much longer, and—

The version of himself that he’ll return as won’t be yours.

(And he won’t give a fuck about you, will he?)

It feels— like you’re going to die. Preemptive grief for a still-living person feels selfish. And yet, you can’t breathe suddenly, even with Rin, present, between your thighs, lavishing you with (fleeting— fleeting!) attention.

You rip your hand from Rin’s hair and cover your face. You can’t look at him. You can’t. Tears are dripping from the corners of your eyes, soaking into your hairline. Your breathing speeds up, painful and raw. Rin is still between your legs.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, looming over you once more. You can feel his shadow, more than you can see it.

He grabs your wrists and tries to drag them away from your face. When you don’t budge, he pries them down to your sides. Perhaps it was foolish of you to think that you could hide from him.

“Just—” You breathe, staring into the shadows thrown onto your bedroom wall. “Keep going. Please. Ignore me.”

“The last thing in the world I can do is ignore you right now.” Rin squeezes you, less for comfort and more to remind you that he is there. “Don’t be unreasonable.”

“I just want to get this over with—” Your voice wobbles and you squeeze your eyes shut. A sob is trapped in your throat, breaking in an ugly sound. Your wrist jolts in Rin’s grip, desperate to try and hide the noise.

You want to hide this from Rin.

If Rin wants to hide the ugly, poisonous part of him that comes out in his career, you want to hide the lovesick one that has infected you. The one that is shattering, in real-time, at the idea of Rin leaving your bed cold, forever.

“I want to take my time,” Rin tells you. “Let me?”

“And I want you to just get it over with—” You repeat, a sob finally breaking from your lips, fully. Rin noses into your cheek. “Finish breaking my fucking heart already, Rin. Then you can hop on a plane and I can block your fucking number.”

There’s a stall. A beat, then two, followed by a third.

Rin is shaking on top of you.

“Would it be that easy for you?” He speaks with gritted teeth.

Would it?

(No, it would actually be so hard for you to cut Rin off so swiftly. Even if you blocked his number, you’re bound to see him in the news. You don’t even follow football all that closely, but he’s such a household name these days that you’re sure to encounter news of him and his accumulating accolades.)

(If not, you know his teammates. Rin begrudgingly introduced you after the lot of them crossed paths with you enough times. You have a few of their phone numbers. Rin’s mother has your contact information too, from the time that Rin spiked a high fever and you needed her specific oyaku recipe. She messages you photos of her garden now, and asks if Rin’s alright.)

(And none of that is even acknowledging the personal, emotional wreckage that cleaving Rin from your life so swiftly will leave behind.)

“No,” you say.

Rin takes a steadying breath, his breath too warm against your cheek and down your jaw.

“You said,” his voice maybe wobbles, you may be imagining it, “that I’m breaking your heart?”

You laugh, something horrible and pained. “I thought that was obvious?”

He pauses. “Maybe it was.”

God, he’s so shit at this kind of thing.

“You’re awful, you know that?”

And you cry.

You’ve become so fragile in the past few weeks. Imagining this day, these exact moments of fleeting intimacy, like doing so could prepare you in any way for the pain that’s now tearing through you. The fear of losing him is being actualized, and you’re making it worse, pushing him away like this. But what would happen if you held him closer when it’s so clear that’s not what Rin wants?

You tear your wrists from Rin’s grip, taking a great amount of effort to flip and attempt to crawl across the bed. Crying like this makes you feel awful and ugly; you want nothing more than to hide. Rin is frozen, motionless, above you at first, letting you writhe until you get onto your tummy, squirming and clawing your way out from under him.

Then, he bears his weight down on you. He gathers your wrists up again and pins them to the bed on either side of your head. It’s a single moment of strength that immobilizes you flat all over again.

“Rin!” You mean to shout it, but instead, it’s a cracking sob that you have to muffle into the duvet.

He gathers your wrists in a single hand, and pets your hair, like you so often do for him. He rubs circles on your shoulders as you wail into the duvet. Bucking him off doesn’t work, he’s an unrelenting presence, sitting on your lower back, almost laid over you. It’s hard to breathe.

(A sick part of you likes this. Knowing that your blatant pain and struggle are being acknowledged by Rin, held and quelled by him, soothes the part of you that craves his attention so terribly. You love him so much, you feel guilty for these feelings just as much as you feel elated by the touch and care he is providing you.)

“It’s okay,” he tells you. He is not a being meant to comfort, the words sound wrong coming out of his mouth. “It’s okay.”

“You know it’s n-not!”

A fresh wave of tears pours from you. You’re soaking the mattress.

“I’m sorry,” he doesn’t apologize either. “If I could give you what you want, I would.”

The sob that you scream into rumpled bed sheets is like thunder that splits the sky.

...

Rin fucks you like he loves you.

He kneels between your legs, holding your hands, thrusting into you at an unhurried, almost reverent pace. Slow and deep, busting up your insides. You’re stretched around his pretty cock beautifully; he told you so.

Each cant of his hips knocks a teary breath out of you. You— you haven’t stopped crying. You’re not sure that you ever will.

Rin kisses you despite the tears and snot, licks your cheeks and mars your neck with mark after mark. His teeth dig into fragile flesh, biting and sucking like he could be eating you, rather than bedding you. It’s a shift in his demeanor— he’s not normally this desperate. Maybe your shattering has made him more lucid to your coming loss.

His hands slip up the backs of your thighs, resting behind your knees. He bears his weight down on you, folding you in half easily. It pushes his cock deeper in you, maybe too deep, but you relish the pain anyway. The pressure of him forces a sound of you, aborted and frail. When you try to cover your mouth, muffle yourself, Rin is pulling your hand away to kiss you.

Rin swallows down every sound, every breath, every bit of you that he can. You press back at him with as much desperation as you muster. He takes and takes, regardless of your tears and jagged edges.

He curses under his breath, tilting his forehead against your own.

“C-Close?” You ask, another involuntary sound being punched out of your lungs.

“No—” He shakes his head.

“Are you lying?”

“No—”

“I’m unconvinced,” you manage to grit out, a bubbling sob creeping up your throat just after.

Rin growls, something in his chest, and thrusts harder, like he’s trying to carve out your insides.

“I—” Rin’s words choke off, pressed against your lips, a frantic edge to it. “I don’t want to be done yet.”

You both freeze.

Rin’s as deep in you as he can be, his hips pressed to your pelvis. Every bit of his weight is bared into you, into your cunt and flesh. He’s breathing in deep, hurried breaths, sweat beads on his brow. You’re grasping his shoulders, digging your nails into him as his words hit you.

“You—” You laugh and cry in the same breath. “You don’t mean what I think you mean, do you?”

His grip on you tightens. His expression is cloudy, his focus solely on you (what a terrifying thing to be on the receiving end of—)

You continue speaking, feeling a creeping amount of panic, “You— you mean sex right? You want to k-keep going?”

“If I said yes to that, I’d be lying.” Rin thrusts into you, hard and fast. You arch your back against the duvet.

“S-So you don’t want—”

“I want to keep fucking you,” Rin corrects, easily. He pushes you down into the mattress like he’s trying to crush you, pulverize you. “I don’t want to be done fucking you.”

“God,” you hit his shoulder with your fist and the force of an angry kitten. “You fucking suck, Rin.”

“I’m sorry—”

“ — Don’t say shit you don’t mean.”

He kisses you again, this time softer. More kind, but still like he wants to eat you.

You finish like that, with his lips laid over yours, with the tempest of loss having consumed you. Rin heavy over your body and heart, pleasure having snuck up behind him enough that tension has coiled in your gut. Your orgasm washes over you slowly, in waves, and you’re sucked down into the sensation with darkening vision and curling toes.

Rin kisses you through it, cursing as you tighten around him. He didn’t— he didn’t use a condom.

“Inside—” You beg him. “Inside— please, please—”

Rin listens to you, bowing over you and pushing your knees up to the sides of your skull. A choked sound leaves his lips and you swallow it down with your own keen. A gush of warmth follows, and you shiver with the heat and fullness of it.

Rin fucks you through his orgasm, muscles drawn tight as he fucks you deep and slow. He only stops when his cock is too soft to continue, and you’re both shivering from overstimulation.

His cock drags out of you, wet and chilling in the still air. You whine at the loss, the panic and grief of this all hitting you again.

You don’t have much time to spiral, as Rin is gathering you up his arms, rolling away from the soaked sheets. He holds you tight, chest-to-chest. His hand is in your hair, and he grabs yours and places it on his own. Reflexively, you scratch his scalp and tug him closer.

You’re both quiet for a long time. The rain hasn’t stopped, dribbling on, but it doesn’t feel as grim now, more sedating. Your eyes go half-lidded.

“Can you clarify?” You ask Rin, peeking up at him. “What you meant before?”

(“I don’t want to be done—”)

“Hm.”

“God—!” You laugh, headbutting him. “You do suck.”

He squeezes you, so hard that a sound is forced from your lips.

“So you want to keep fucking?”

“It’s more than that.”

“Fuck, Rin—”

“Shut up.”

“Still figuring it out?”

“Something like that.” He muffles the words into the top of your head.

You’re not sure where your grief sits then. Maybe it’s gone, and your release was just that— release. It makes you laugh again, into Rin’s chest. You squeeze him like doing so will keep him here, in this moment, for a little longer.

Rin wordlessly squeezes you back even harder.

...

You and Rin don’t talk much once he goes to Europe.

You lose your mind right after he leaves, obviously. Screaming, crying, not throwing up, but pretty close to it. His house slippers get thrown in the back of a closet (rather than in the trash because, despite everything, you have hope—) and you rot for several weeks.

It takes a while for you to be close to normal.

Your routine with Rin had been a regular occurrence. Maybe once a week, sometimes twice. Not having it to count on unmoors you and makes you lonely in a way that feels unwelcome and raw. There’s a piece of you missing, just like you knew there would be.

You get a few texts from him. A photo or two of monuments he encounters with a few choice words—

[Rin]: I thought you would like this

You’re going to fucking kill him.

You’re never sure what to reply, so you tend to keep things brief. Your last encounter made you question your understanding of your relationship so profoundly that you don’t know how to proceed. There’s... certainly more than you expected, but upon Rin departing for Europe, so much had been left unsaid. How do you begin to broach that— is it even your place to?

You don’t bring it up. You don’t call him, you leave the wound he left alone, and it aches a little less each day. Still gaping and empty, but less raw maybe.

It’s late one evening when you receive a call from a random, international number.

You ignore it at first, thinking it’s spam, but they recall you several times, and you pick up on the fourth attempt.

“... Hello?” You ask into the receiver.

“Oh, hi! Is this [name]?”

“It is— who is this?”

“Oh, it’s Isagi— I’m one of Rin’s teammates from Bluelock. I’m not sure if you remember me, but we’ve met a few times!”

You have— Rin has a serious chip on his shoulder about Isagi, which has been made to be an incredibly comical fact when realized Isagi is one of the most genuinely kind, polite people you’ve ever encountered.

“Oh yeah, it's nice to— um, hear from you. What’s up?

“Ah, yeah! I apologize for the abrupt calls. I’ve got something to ask you that’s kind of time-sensitive— if you have a minute.”

“Yeah, I’ve got time.” You swallow. “Is... everything alright? Is... Rin okay?”

“Oh, yeah! He’s totally fine. Maybe a little hungover, but fine.”

You straighten up and withhold gasp. “Rin drank?”

Rin has refused alcohol the entire time you’ve known him. He swears it affects his performance.

Isagi laughs on the other side of the line. “Oh man, you don’t even know. I’ve never seen the guy with any alcohol in his system before either, and I kind of get why. He really is a lightweight.

“I imagine... and this has to do with why you called?”

“Yes, actually—” Your phone chimes with a new message from Isagi. “Is this you in the photo?”

The photo is of another phone, specifically of its lock screen. The time on the photographed phone screen reads [01:11]. The lock screen is a photo of you.

You’re sleeping, clearly, face half-smushed into one of your pillows. Mascara smears under your eyes and hickeys are bruised up and down your throat. From the location of the marks and makeup, you know this is from the last night you saw Rin. Your chest feels tight.

“What the fuck.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Yeah, oh my god.” You had no idea Rin took this photo— and it’s his fucking lock screen? That fucker only had the generic, preloaded graphics displayed on his phone the entire time you knew him.

“I thought so— sorry, it’s kind of insane for Rin to have a photo like that—”

“It is, yeah.” You run a hand over your face, switching your phone to speaker and rubbing your cheeks. “How does this relate to you calling?”

“Well,” says Isagi, “Rin’s been playing like shit.”

“He has been.” Oh my god, has he. Like actual garbage. You’re not sure you should admit that you watch Rin’s games religiously, because at this point it’s a bit pathetic of you. But you do watch them live if at all possible, otherwise you purchased some stupid European streaming service to catch the recording as soon as possible. And because of this, you know he has been playing sloppily. You’ve been... blaming jetlag. Or something. Adjusting to the European diet or whatever.

(Not the vestiges of your relationship still, miraculously, affecting him in any way.)

“It hasn’t been great. We won our match yesterday, but barely. And we went out drinking which was good for morale! But maybe not great for Rin. He drank a bit too much and got a bit weepy.”

Your stomach drops. You can see where this is going.

“He kept talking about missing someone but didn’t say any name. And when we saw his lock screen... we kind of put two-and-two together.”

“Great deduction. Aren’t you known for that?”

Isagi laughs, sounding good-natured. It makes you smile. It’s nice to know Rin hangs out with good people who aren’t all dour and weird like him.

“Something like that. Anyway, his birthday is in a few weeks, and me and a few of the other guys thought it would be a good gift for him to fly you out and surprise him.”

You stay silent, attempting to suffocate the spark of hope that traitorously stirs in you.

“Isagi.” You fold your hands and put them vertically to your lips. “Have you met Rin?”

That makes him laugh, “I have, I’m probably around him too much. But he’s been weird since we started the season here. If you visited, the team would cover everything. Our coach even offered to arrange rooms for you at the hotels we’ll be at. If you don’t want to room with Rin, anyway—”

“Rin and I aren’t together.”

“Damn.” Isagi clicks his tongue. “Does he know that?”

Maybe you’re an idiot. Maybe Rin’s an idiot. Maybe you’re both idiots.

“I should ask him, maybe.”

“He’s never been the type to do things in halves, you know.”

“Trust me, I’m very aware of that.”

Isagi whistles and you shake your head.

“You don’t have to give me an answer right away. If you could let me know in the next few days, that would be great. You’ve got my number now that I’ve called, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ll be in touch.” You swallow. “Thanks for reaching out, Isagi. I appreciate it. And— thanks for keeping an eye on Rin too.”

“Yeah, yeah. Someone needs to while he’s here. Let me know what you’re thinking, feel free to call if you need anything too. Or want me to spy on Rin for you.”

“Will do,” You laugh, light-hearted for the first time in weeks. You exchange goodbyes and you drop your phone onto your lap.

...

Oh my fucking god.

You know several things immediately— you want to go. Desperately, actually, especially with the knowledge that stupid fucking Rin Itoshi has you as his fucking lock screen? You need answers, if nothing else. You won’t settle for a very sad, weepy fuck this time around.

You also know that you should not surprise Rin.

So, you act before you can convince yourself better of it. You scroll to your messages with Rin and craft.

[you]: hey, i hope you’re doing alright. your teammate (isagi) just called me and invited me out for your birthday to surprise you. but i know you well enough to know that if i surprise you like that you will either kill me, isagi, yourself, or all three of us.

[you]: i wanted to touch base before i gave isagi an answer

[you]: i’d love to see you

[you]: and we should talk too.

Rin almost immediately sees the message— the freak has read receipts on. A bubble indicating he’s typing appears, then disappears.

A call from him comes in. You nearly drop your phone as the screen lights up your face and vibrates.

With a steadying breath, you answer.

“Hello?”

“What did Isagi tell you?”

You snort. “That your play sucks and that you’re a weepy drunk.”

“He sucks. Don’t talk to him again.”

“I have to, so he and the rest of your team can buy me tickets and a hotel room—”

“If— if you want to come, I’ll buy your ticket. And why would you need a hotel room?”

“So I have somewhere to sleep.”

“Is my bed not good enough for you?”

“Are you implying that I’d sleep with you?”

“...Yes.”

“Damn,” you fall back onto your couch with a laugh. There’s an odd coil of relief that’s unspooling in your chest. You could cry again. “Is that alright?”

“I— I wouldn’t want—” Rin so rarely loses his words, it shocks you to hear when he does. “Yes. It’s fine. I can meet you at the airport too.”

“Well, aren’t you sweet?”

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I.”

There’s a poignant moment of silence that passes between you two. You can imagine Rin now— it’s the morning where he is. He probably is nursing both a bottle of water and that electrolyte drink he prefers— he likes the blue flavor the best. He’s probably in his warm-up clothes, preparing for his meticulous morning routine.

“I’m excited,” Rin says, stilted but there. “To see you again.”

Something warm burns in you, frail but burgeoning.

“So am I.” You wipe your eyes and laugh. “Don’t break my heart again, Rin, I swear to God.”

“I won’t.”

He says it with enough conviction that you believe him.

#lore writes #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi x you #itoshi rin x you #itoshi rin x reader #bluelock x reader #bluelock x you #ANYWAYS!!! :3ccc #this piece was so interesting like #had not thought about rin in the ways i was required to for this piece :'^)#and it was very gratifying and so fun!!#thank you bitti for asking for such a piece and i hope you enjoy dearest!!!! 🩷

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ohnogodpls · 2 years ago

Text

Season of gifting

Transcribed:

"there is actually something I've wanted to ask you about. It's about Neuvillette Lately, he's been giving me gifts non stop"

Every time he comes over Shells Conches Or when we go on a walk Once I even had a melusine deliver it when we had to reschedule shells shells shells

I put them all on display at the office but I am starting to run out of space Do you know what's up? Did someone prank him and said it's my birthd- month? Winnie?

"Here! Read this! Chapter 69" "An illustrated guide for draconic species? Why do you even have this?" "Monsieur Neuvillette was spotted buying so the next day every Melusine in the Court of Fontaine had a copy. Just... Read it..."

Alright... A dragon can still demonstrate their affection by gifting their mate local specialties associated with their ele- Oh. oh...

#genshin impact #neuvillette #wriothesley #wriolette #neuvithesley #sigewinne

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izzih22 · 6 days ago

Text

Chapter 5

The Day Everything Changed

Note: last chapter… hope yall like it!!

The apartment was quite a different kind of quiet.

Not lazy or tired. Not even peaceful. Just… still.

Azzi sat on the edge of the bed in one of Paige’s oversized UConn hoodies, hands resting on her belly like she was holding something sacred. Which she was.

Paige was brushing her hair from behind, slow and careful, like if she moved too fast, she’d miss something important.

“I don’t think I’m gonna sleep,” Azzi murmured.

Paige smiled gently, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. “That’s okay. I’ll stay up with you.”

“You’ve been staying up with me.”

“I’ll stay up forever if I have to,” Paige whispered. “You’ve carried our baby for nine months. I can carry some lost sleep.”

Azzi turned to look at her. “You don’t say it often, but I know you’re scared.”

Paige didn’t pretend otherwise. “I am.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve never wanted something so much in my life,” Paige said softly. “I’ve never loved someone the way I love you. And now we’re about to meet the person we made — the person you grew. I just… I don’t want to mess it up.”

“You won’t.”

“I might cry more than the baby.”

Azzi smiled. “You will.”

They lay down together, face-to-face. Paige’s hand never left her belly. Azzi’s legs tangled with hers. They talked about names again. Paige changed her favorite five times. Azzi told her to stop picking things like “Rebound” and “And-One.” But Paige just loved hearing Azzi laugh knowing she was only kidding.

And sometime around 3 a.m., Paige whispered, “We’re ready.”

Azzi nodded. “We’re ready.”

⸻

It Broke with a Splash

7:41 a.m.

Azzi’s gasp jolted Paige out of the deepest sleep she’d had in weeks.

Then came the sound.

A soft splash, followed by “Oh my God.”

Paige bolted upright. “Was that—”

Azzi was standing near the bed, frozen, hand resting protectively over her bump.

“My water just broke,” she whispered.

Paige stared. Blinked once. Then—

“OH MY GOD. IT’S HAPPENING. IT’S HAPPENING. THIS IS REAL.”

She jumped out of bed, nearly slipped, caught herself, sprinted for the hospital bags, then spun back around.

“SHOES. DO YOU HAVE SHOES? DO YOU NEED A TOWEL? DO WE CALL THE HOSPITAL OR DO WE JUST GO? DO I DELIVER THE BABY MYSELF IF THEY’RE LATE—”

“Paige!” Azzi called, steady but amused.

Paige skidded to a stop, eyes wide. “Yes?”

“I need your help.”

That was all it took.

Paige was at her side in an instant, her hands on Azzi’s hips, her voice quiet now. “You okay? Is it starting?”

Azzi breathed through a tightening cramp. “I think so.”

“Okay. Okay.” Paige grabbed her phone with one hand, held Azzi close with the other, and opened their Family Group Chat:

PAIGE: HER WATER BROKE

PAIGE: THE BABY IS COMING

PAIGE: I REPEAT—THE BABY. IS. COMING.

AZZI’S MOM: We’re getting in the car.

PAIGE’S MOM: I’m already crying.

GRANDMA: Bringing banana bread.

AZZI’S DAD: I’m driving and praying.

Then she flipped to the UConn Girls Chat:

PAIGE: IT’S TIME

PAIGE: THE BABY IS COMING. AZZI IS A WARRIOR.

PAIGE: I’M LOSING MY MIND

CAROLINE: Y’all better name the baby after me

ICE: I CAN’T BREATHE

NIKA: DO YOU NEED US TO COME NOW

KK: OMG OMG OMG

PAIGE: JUST SEND PRAYERS AND ENERGY. I’LL UPDATE. GAHHH

⸻

It Climbed in Waves

They got to the hospital with time to spare but the adrenaline didn’t slow down.

Paige was pacing the delivery room like she was about to coach a national title game.

Azzi was in bed, calm but focused, working through each contraction.

And Paige? Paige was chaos in a hoodie.

“She needs more water. She likes it cold but not too cold. Can you lower the lights a bit? She hates the buzz from those kinds of bulbs. Also, don’t forget her birth playlist. We made a playlist. It has SZA and Luther Vandross on it—”

Azzi grabbed her hand.

Paige stopped talking immediately.

Azzi’s eyes fluttered open. “You’re doing amazing.”

Paige blinked. “Me? You’re literally in labor.”

“And you’re right here.”

Paige kissed her forehead. “Always.”

⸻

The first contraction caught Azzi off guard.

It wasn’t gradual. It slammed into her like a truck.

She doubled over, clutching her belly, face twisted in pain.

Paige was right there, holding her arm. “Breathe. Breathe through it. Just like we practiced, Az.”

Azzi tried, but her voice came out a sob. “It hurts, Paige.”

“I know, baby. I know.” Paige wiped her forehead gently. “You’re doing amazing. Just hold onto me.”

As the hours dragged on, the pain worsened. Azzi stopped speaking between contractions. Her body shook. Her grip on Paige’s hand turned desperate. Raw.

She couldn’t even form words at one point just broken sounds, moans, cries.

Paige held her.

Through every breath.

Through every scream.

She didn’t leave her side for a second.

“Paigey— I can’t—” Azzi sobbed through another one, her back arching. “I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can,” Paige said fiercely, her voice breaking. “You are doing it. You’re so strong, baby. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever seen. You’re everything.”

Azzi shook her head. “It’s too much—”

“I’ve got you. Just look at me,” Paige begged, brushing sweaty curls from her face. “You don’t have to do this alone. Not for a second. I’m right here.”

She gripped Paige’s hoodie and cried into her chest. Paige held her, whispering over and over, “I’ve got you. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

⸻

Her heart broke watching Azzi scream. Watching her body shake. Watching the woman she loved fight to bring life into the world.

And then—

After what felt like forever, the doctor’s voice came through the fog: “Okay, Azzi. One more push.”

Azzi cried out.

Paige squeezed her hand harder than she thought she could. “That’s it. That’s it, Az. You’ve got them. Bring them home.”

And then—

A wail.

A tiny, raw, perfect sound that cut through the room like lightning.

The room blurred.

Paige blinked.

Azzi gasped.

The doctor held up a tiny, wriggling, red-faced baby crying her lungs out, already fighting.

“She’s here,” someone said. “You have a daughter.”

Paige crumpled.

Just folded into herself and sobbed.

Not soft tears. Not a sniffle.

Real, full, body-wrecking sobs.

She leaned down and kissed Azzi’s forehead again and again, whispering through her tears, “You did it. You did it babygirl.”

Azzi was crying too. Quietly. Just watching Paige hold their baby for the first time, watching her hands tremble as the nurse gently placed the swaddled little girl into her arms.

Paige looked down at the baby, her eyes still flooded.

“She looks like you,” she whispered.

“She has your mouth,” Azzi whispered back.

Paige sat on the bed beside her, holding the baby in one arm, Azzi in the other.

“I love you,” she said, voice shaking. “Both of you so much.”

Azzi leaned into her. “I know.”

⸻

Later that night, the room had quieted. Visitors had come and gone. Their moms had cried. KK and Ice had FaceTimed, screaming. Caroline had made an unofficial godmother speech.

Now it was just them.

Paige. Azzi. Their daughter.

Paige cradled her against her chest while Azzi slept, exhausted but peaceful beside her.

She looked down at the baby girl in her arms tiny, warm, perfect.

“You don’t know me yet,” Paige whispered. “But I’m yours. Completely. You and your mama… you’re my whole world.”

The baby squirmed.

Paige smiled.

“I’m gonna mess up. I know that. But I’ll love you more than anything, and I’ll never stop showing up. You’re safe here. You’re so, so loved.”

She glanced at Azzi.

Still beautiful. Still the love of her life. Still the girl who changed everything.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “For her. For this. For being mine.”

The baby sighed in her sleep.

Paige pressed a kiss to her tiny forehead.

And just like that… their story began again.

Not as two.

Not even as three.

But as everything.

Together.

Forever.

#pazzi fics #paige x azzi #pazzi #paige and azzi #paige bueckers #uconn wbb #azzi fudd

258 notes · View notes

yorsgirl · 1 year ago

Note

Yan!Heian!Sukuna and with Y/N?

Lately, whenever Darling got pregnant she ended up having countless miscarriages, the longest lasting at least 3 months, Sukuna began to suspect these countless coincidences.

He doesn't care about these losses since he didn't want to share Y/N with some brat, but he found it very strange that every time she got pregnant resulted in a miscarriage, so he started investigating and finally found out why this was happening.

He discovered that Y/N was causing her own miscarriages, as she knew that the last thing the world needed was Sukuna's descendants, so he finally confronts her but with that damn psychological terror that he loves to do to her.

Oh my, I love love love this idea!!

I kinda went out on this one, but I hope I did justice to what you were aiming at. Hope you like it :) Also I am sorry for being so late

Playing God

Yandere!Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: It was a gamble, he was willing to make. To keep you with him, forever, as he wanted. Needed. You had to realize that no other heaven except his arms would be comforting. Even if that meant, breaking your very soul.

Tropes: Dark Romance, horror, angst

Warnings: Implied nsfw(forced), mentions of pregnancy, miscarriage, abduction, cannibalism and isolation. Trauma, mild stockholm syndrome, yandere themes, minor character death(s), gore, gaslighting, manipulation, misogyny, blood, degradation(non-kinky), patriarchal society, unhealthy relationship, implied child birth.

General warnings: Yandere!True form!Husband!Sukuna, Wife!Reader, Heian Era, both Sukuna and reader are a red flag on their own, usage of nicknames, no mentions of y/n.

Word Count: 9.7k

You were digging your own grave.

So you shouldn't have been surprised that your wish would be granted. Yet, if you could have one wish then you'd wish for freedom but no- freedom was a forfeited dream, far beyond your reach. Consideration of that one would never be fruitful. You are trapped even in your dreams.

Playing with fire only gets you burnt.

For long, you played this game and this- this was your compensation. For everything you had done until now, all you are returned with was abandonment. Not that supposedly, betrayal, yes. More appropriate.

Flames surrounded you, crawling up your skin, the screams piercing your ears, your chest heaved up and down. Gaze, once settled on your hearth, now all you saw was the burning hut, the crackling of embers reached your ears. Attire and hands stained with blood of the insolent. The warning shouldn't have been taken lightly. Should have known, the extent of his power.

Eyes held terror, fright, regret- whatever you could name. The multitude of names you received seemed no more than a distant dream, nowhere to be found. All were running away - expectable.

You expected calamity, but you were calm.

Everything went down in flames. Save for you, you weren't burning. Not an spark touched your skin. Was it the distance or the control? Who knows. But one confirmation which you held was that tonight you won't die. Not so soon either.

Careful, not all Gods are worshipped.

The words rang in your ears and as if on cue, you found him again.

In this reverie of madness, he held your sight when you attempted to turn - the eyes tinted with crimson.

"I am sorry for your loss, m'lady."

You had seen it all.

You had your fair share of encounters, received news and such. Women losing their mind and sanity after delivered with a news this devastating. Notably, no woman would feel any bliss after knowing that they had lost their child. Lost the chance of motherhood before experiencing it. Violent outbursts was the most probable outcome.

"This is a hard time," The midwife spoke softly. "Yet, you shouldn't neglect your health."

You perceived the softness to be fear. She must have had dealt with situations like these, most of them traumatizing as you assumed. Perhaps, she expected the same from you too.

You tore your gaze off her, leaning back on your bedframe, "I'd like to be left alone."

Your declaration was answered with compliance. Offering a humble bow, she bid you farewell, walking out of your chambers. Once her footsteps seized, you finally let your guard down. Breathing out a sigh of relief, you laid back down on your bed.

"Good riddance," You muttered to yourself. Moments of such vulnerability wasn't rare, considering you were served with loneliness, lately. Save for the times you spent in the presence of Sukuna. His decree, one might say. Your attention shouldn't be wasted on anyone but him. You scoffed recalling his words. Involuntarily, you stroked your belly, the corner of your lip curled up.

Once a house to life, given by your husband; now lay vacant from your doing.

A twisted sense of pride swelled up in your chest, a wide grin stretching on your face. You were successful in your quest, again. Mercilessly, you uprooted the seed of your husband's lineage.

Perhaps, you've truly gone sick.

Yet, this revolt of feelings were miles lesser than the repugnant you encountered when you realized your first pregnancy. You were on the brink of clawing out the creature growing in your womb. You'd have torn it apart with while revelling in the joy of watching its blood drip down on the face of Earth. If not for Sukuna's presence in the room, you might've gone through it.

You lost a fragment of yourself, that day.

Throwing up countless times, dizziness, nausea, even losing your consciousness while walking down. No, they weren't pregnancy side effects. More so, the outcome of the stress accumulating in you.

Sickening. His kin you'd have cradled in your body. To be born and grow up into a revolting, merciless creature like his father. To take up place in your womb, your flesh and blood and combining with his – a living proof of your plight. Disgusting.

Never. You'd never let that happen.

You'd never succumb to such monstrosity.

You had already given up your freedom, your dignity, your alight life to Sukuna in exchange of the lives you held dear. The lives back in your ancestral village, home to your kin.

You were affirmed. An heir of Ryomen Sukuna would never be birthed from you.

Speak of the devil, he appears.

An overwhelming familiar aura surrounded your very being, the doors to your chamber slid open, your captor, your husband strolled inside. Even his mere presence held the malevolence in him. You attempted to rise from your position at his arrival.

"Sit." He commanded.

You silently obeyed his order, keeping your gaze settled on your lap, the energy had your stomach churning with trepidation; at times when you didn't do anything either. And this time, you were guilty. Two moments passed in silence until he spoke.

"I heard from the midwife."

You took in a sharp breath, swallowing a lump in your throat. It was the same ordeal, like the first two times. Yet, you were a tad bit calm since the previous encounters. Probably, due to the fact you were getting used to this role. In this past moons, you had developed into the wife, he was carving you out to be. Giving him just the reactions he wanted, for that saved you a lot of anguish and pain. Even if it came at the price of your self-respect. This was the only way.

With your head hung low, you spoke, "Forgive me, my lord. I am incapable of bearing you an heir. I-It must have been my fau-"

"Not another word."

You instantly stiffened up, his deep voice causing chills to run down your spine. Did you make an error? Was he aware of your tumultuous acts? Was the play not convincing enough?

He held your chin, forcing you to look up at him. All of his four, red eyes bore into you. You bit on your inner cheek, blood coursing in your veins - steadfast.

They say, your fear start to vanish once you've remained in the source of their vicinity too long. That statement is false. For even after staying with your captor for almost two years, you still held your fear.

"The one at fault bore consequences."

That's when you were hit with the faint stench of blood from him. Another one perished. You took the wild guess of it being the midwife. However, instead of amplifying fright, it was lessened. You wouldn't be on the receiving end of his wrath.

"You aren't at fault, wife."

Oh, but you were.

Sukuna held your gaze, cupping your cheek; the rough pad of his thumb trailed a line on your skin. His tone and grip were surprisingly gentle. "There's no need to apologize."

The corners of your eyes crinkled down, you lean into his touch. You assume, it's a good move as you noted the flicker of emotion in his eyes. "It's the third time, my lord. Perhaps, I bear some shortcomings."

"What nonsense," He rolled his eyes. "There's none, not in my eyes. Don't fill your head with such fickle thoughts." He paused for a moment before continuing, "Is that understood?"

He wasn't one for affirmations but maybe- just maybe it was his attempt at comfort, you supposed. The previous losses must had him learning, the threads of condolence. Still, for you, they'd never mean anything less than empty words. The last thing you wanted was to be comforted by your tormentor. You'd rather step into hell willingly.

But you were living under his wing. You have to play according to his whims. You nodded. "Yes, my lord."

His hand left your face, dropping to his thigh. He looked at you, as if sizing you up. You had to keep yourself from making any unnecessary movements. Sukuna wanted you composed, whatever the situation. (Except the times when he bedded you, you were allowed to scream, cry and thrash around then. Cause you were trapped under his immense strength, struggles were futile).

After a while, he asked, "Any wishes?"

You chewed on your bottom lip, eyes flickering down then back to him. You let out a breath, before continuing. "May I visit the shrine... this evening?"

Silence.

You were contemplating whether you had offended him, somehow. Previously, he did allow for your little trips, you wondered if his patience was running thin cause of your repeated incapability of bearing him an heir. Maybe, you ran out of luck.

You were about to mutter an apology but then a smug grin spread across his lips, "Why so?" He asked.

"To-" You swallowed a lump, preparing to answer the practiced dialogue. "To offer prayers for–"

"Why grieve for someone who didn't even take form?" He cut you up, raising an eyebrow. For a tad moment, he sounded curious. It broke into a cruel chuckle, "You humans would make a funeral out of anything, yes?"

If you held an ounce of sympathy then you wouldn't question.

You wanted to say but you knew better. Besides, you still have to keep up the act of being his loyal wife. Heaving a out a deep breath, you replied, "I suppose." You paused, running the tip of your tongue over your lip.

"I'd pray that I can bear you an heir the next time, my lord."

Nay, more so: I'd pray that you receive your end soon, my lord.

Sukuna watched you. No, not look. He watched, like a predator. Then, his lips cracked into a sinister grin. "You've a way with your words, wife."

It caught you off guard. You raised an eyebrow, attempting to voice out your confusion. "What do-"

"I will accompany you."

"Sukuna sama, the herbalist you asked for, has arrived."

Sukuna spared a glance at Uraume, who knelt by his feet.

"Bring him."

As on cue, they rose up from their stance, pivoting around towards the door. It parted, two curses had a man in their grasp as he struggled to break free. His eyes widening with terror when it fell on the King, sitting atop his throne.

The man was pushed down to his knees, face meeting the floor in a loud slam. His scuffles were in vain against such power, he knew that. Still, in a situation of life and death, rationality takes it's leave.

Sukuna clicked his tongue in annoyance. All he wanted was some herbalist to answer the flurry of questions in his which had him restless for the past few days. Did this scum think he'd be killed? Maybe he would be, if he deems it necessary or he proves to be useless.

What had him restless was your miscarriages. Counting the most recent would make it a fourth. Where did he go wrong? You were kept in utmost luxury, no toils whatsoever. Still, what was wrong?

—》《—

"Perhaps, there's some faults in her highness."

"Keep your voice down, Mira. Someone may hear you."

"I am a lot quite... but tell me, don't you find it strange? How come she has lost all of her children?"

"I- I suppose. Perhaps, motherhood is not written in her fate."

"Or so, she's simply incapable."

—》《—

Safe to say, those were the last words they uttered before they were turned into a mash of flesh and blood.

Sliced into pieces that even trying to make a proper corpse out of the remnants weren't possible.

At times, Sukuna wished he held the power to bring back someone to life. Then maybe, he'd have given those servants a death, more worthy. Maybe, ripping out their limbs, piece by piece. First the bones would break, ripped from the ligaments, then it'd be the muscles; that was easy to just tear out. And after that happened, he could have just sewn up the blobs of flesh again and repeat the process until they learn their lesson or the life leaves them again.

He deduced the latter would be more probable. Still, it would be fine. They deserved that.

Speaking ill of you in his palace, in his vicinity, in his world was prohibited. A sin, in the words of humans. And a sin never goes unpunished.

You - his consort, his queen, you were heavenly. There isn't a fault in you, it's some external factor, must be. But he can't let go of his growing suspicion either.

Sukuna detested children, it was a known fact. Always ending their lives first, whenever he set foot in a village. They were of no use to him, unless they were served to him on his platter. He couldn't deny, their flesh was flavourful.

Even though, he held great disdain for them, he couldn't help but desire a kinship with you. With the price of letting go of your undivided attention? Hmm, doesn't sound too great. He assumed, he can hire a wet nurse just in case. Still, he desired to see you round with his child, feet swollen as you struggled to walk around. You do not have to worry, he, your husband would joyfully oblige in carrying you in his arms. You were more than perfect, he couldn't even imagine just how beautiful you'll look, during and after carrying your child.

It was destined. You'd extend his lineage or no one else.

You were flawless then why were you causing such errors? Contradicting. It was his question until he started to take a note in your behaviour, and he found–

Sukuna stood up from his throne, walking down the steps of bones, presumably of the ones he killed. They act as a pretty show piece, according to him.

The court resonated with his footsteps, each one carrying a promise of death. The man's struggles seized once he was harshly pulled up by his hair, his eyes met with Sukuna's.

"Yo-your high–ness," The man fumbled with his words, a spine chilling sensation going down his frame.

"Time's wasting," Sukuna said, his glare pointed. The fury evident, though his exterior was calm. "Comply if you don't wish death."

The man nodded frequently, his fingertips trembled with anticipation and horror. "Ye-yes, your highness. It's an honour to s-serve you." The man fell to his feet as he was dropped. Sukuna dismissed the extra company with a wave of his hand.

"Rise," He declared.

The man still on his knees, raises his head. "What can I- I do for you, your highness?"

—》《—

"May I make a request, my lord?"

Sukuna's eyes flickered to you, yours not meeting his. Knelt before him, you gracefully poured the sake in his ochoko.

"Speak."

He marked the squinting in your irises, fingertips trembled when you put the vessel down. Your shoulders rose and fell before you gazed at him, reluctantly. He couldn't help but find your antics inhumanely amusing.

"Would you be kind enough... to bring me this-" You paused for a fleeting moment. "This herb called... aloe vera?"

—》《—

"Aloe vera," Sukuna tilted his head aside, the upper pair of arms crossed over his chest. "What use does it have?"

"We-well, my lord it's used for heal-healing purposes, burns, cuts, rashes... it heals injuries, yes." He answered, taking a gulp. There was other uses too yet his head was alike a blank canvas, before such a formidable strength. He wasn't even aware if it was satisfactory or why the King of Curses needed to know about such a measly plant. But if it meant he could see the sun for another day then he'll just give whatever he could offer. "I-It can also be used to– to make me-medicated food. N-not a delicacy... I might add."

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, "That's it?"

"N-no, my lord. There- it can cure diges-"

"In pregnancy."

The man stiffened, his mouth parting a tad bit. A whisper leaving his lips, "Yo-your highness...?"

Pregnancy, menstruation, considered taboo. A matter regarding women, spoken in the inner chambers, the men should remain ignorant. A topic whispered in ears not spoken aloud in any hall, let alone the royal court. Certainly, Sukuna was aware of this societal construct, yet he didn't care. The society and its idiotic rules could go to hell. He just needed answers.

"Speak," Sukuna's voice was louder, deeper when the man before him fidgeted in his spot due to discomfort - on speaking such a topic.

"It-Its a... your highness, I d-don't think you-"

"Insolent bastard," His fumbling was interrupted by Sukuna. The warning evident in his profanity. His face grew darker, the four irises glowing with impending danger akin Satan himself. "If you so much as want to live, fucking speak."

The man's blood ran cold as on cue, face turning a shade paler as if winter had started to pool in. Tears prickled the corners of his eyes, "Forgive me, your highness! I will speak, I will- yes- aloe vera its-" He heaved out a deep breath, an attempt to slow down his beating heart. "Any fo-form of it is ill-suited during pregnancy... it can cause... cause pe-pelvic haemorrhage leading to... to misc-"

"Miscarriage?"

"Yes, miscarriage... can lead to miscarriage, your highness."

A profound silence prevailed. Not a soul spoke neither was a footstep heard. Not a leaf rustled or the howling winds tapped on the window pane - assumed, mother nature had halted its elements from making any noise.

The stakes were high yet an flicker of courage alighted in the man as he raised his head up to glance at Sukuna, "My lor-"

The man's head tumbled down before he could even complete.

He couldn't scream, he couldn't beg, he couldn't apologize, he couldn't even blink. All he could do was watch. Watch as his beheaded body fell limp before his eyes. Watch as the blood poured out like waterfalls staining the carpet with its hues. The red marred bones protruded out amidst the flesh, globs of blood was gushing out of his severed voice box. His body jerked, the remnants of conscious nerves trying to survive.

It was a neat cut. A heavenly sight.

The world started to blur in. And before he knew it, the light was gone from his eyes.

Sukuna didn't even spare a glance as he marched out of his court.

Uraume approached the body, a few maids accompanying them. They casted a disapproving glare at the corpse.

"Not edible, dispose of it."

You didn't see or hear from Sukuna for a week.

He didn't visit your chambers at night neither was he present when you sat down for your meals. Even his energy was alike a hushed whisper which would remind you of his presence in the residence, but not reveal himself to you. For some reason, it had you in an unease.

No, you certainly did not miss his presence. But his absence just made the surroundings almost suffocating. There was the looming threat that something had happened or something were to happen. One worse than the other.

Silence was never uneventful.

Insinuating the courage, you had once inquired Uraume about his absence. Presenting a polite bow, they answered, "Sukuna sama doesn't want to be disturbed."

Disturbed... as if he wasn't the cause of all disturbances. A natural disaster in himself. You resisted the urge to scoff and uttered a meek line of gratitude before going about your day. (That extended with you strolling down the halls or garden or just be in your chambers and read the few books Sukuna had bought you).

On the very same day the dark commenced. While you were mesmerized by the fall of twilight over the garden, you heard his voice.

"Don't you love playing with poison, wife?"

The sudden question made you halt your steps, you weren't even aware that he was present–shielded his aura, presumably. You turned around, raising an eyebrow with bewilderment.

"Pardon, my lord?"

Sukuna snorted, walking up to you, a smirk played on his lips. You had to make the effort of tilting your head to gaze up at him. His towering figure loomed over you, his lower left hand snaking around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

"You love poisons, don't you? Or in your words herbs."

Your shoulders grew rigid, eyes widening with realization, a sharp breath hitting your throat. Your fingertips trembled with anticipation. You were sure to be discreet in your affairs, using the isolation he subjected you to at its best. Yet he knew. It was bad. Very much so. And what were to happen now? What would he do to you?

Another night of horror where your screams would be unheard, your resistance proved to be futile, where you'd be left to suffer alone, where another shard of your remaining soul would be plunged by him. Another night where you'd again play into his whims... Or something more vile, leaving you physically disabled? Perhaps, even death...

The foremost was the most heinous one. You silently prayed that he wouldn't resort to that. If you were to be subjected to his torment then you wished he'd just kill you, liberating you for once and for all. Even so, survival is what the mind wants. Piecing through any tactic just to live another day. The play for now should be denial.

Sukuna's affections for you worked as a double edged sword. You aimed to take advantage of it, in every way possible. You instilled a bit of courage, standing your ground, you spoke "I don't understand what you're trying to instigate, my lord."

He looked down on you, a coy smile uplifting his lips. He threaded his fingers through the knot of your kimono, leaning down next to your ear, he inhaled your scent. His lips brushing over your neck.

"I do not believe so, wife." He murmured, his warm breath hitting your skin, a range of goosebumps rising over your arm. "In fact, I think you clearly know, what I speak about."

Before you could let a word out, he straightened up, turning around, he pushed you to walk with him. His large hand still covering your back.

"Come, let me entertain you."

You were walking to the gallows.

Not literally, but you were sure your end was near.

The wooden floors creaked with footfalls. Each step heavier than the previous. You hesitantly glimpsed at Sukuna, his gaze was far ahead. Not a word left his mouth in this while. Only his hold remained firm. He pushed you forward every moment your step faltered.

Your breath hitched when you turned a corner - the right wing. A rule, you could say. Sukuna made it clear since the day he held you captive brought you home – never step a foot in the right wing. Despair drowned your curiosity that time, you didn't question, least bothered to. Even later, you didn't dare to defy him; courtesy to the pain you were subjected to once.

Still, you could make the wild guess of what happened in there. The muffled screams kept you awake at midnight, it was easy to put the puzzle pieces together. There he revelled with the sick pleasure of tormenting your kind.

He stopped before a pair of oak doors. That's when he glanced at you, for the first time in a long while. For a moment, he stared at you with an emotion you couldn't decipher. The next moment, he pulled out the Kanzashi from your hair, letting your strands tousle down.

You flinched, pushing away the curls which clouded your vision. Sukuna held the pin in his hand, holding your gaze. He was unmoving.

What happened to him?

"My lord," You called. "What are you-"

"Stay quiet," He handed you the kanzashi back, adjusting your hand to hold it as if it were a dagger. Turning to the door, he spared you a glance. "Don't speak a word." With that, the doors opened.

Dark.

It was dark save for the light of the lantern which illuminated the room. He shoved you forward, the door locking behind as he stood aside you.

"One bite."

Huh? Bite? What did he mean? You slightly turned your head towards him but you were stopped in your tracks. It wasn't only you and Sukuna in this room, seems you had a guest. More appropriate word? A Captive.

Your eyes were wide open. On the corner of the room, sat a young boy, not more than a adolescent - blindfolded. Restrained by chains, his wrists and ankles were cuffed with metal. A small whimper left his lips as he registered the presence of both of you.

You were about to speak but then his words rang in your mind.

Don't speak a word.

Sukuna gripped your wrist, leading you to the boy, "One bite, in the arm."

He wasn't talking to you. To the boy, he kept his eyes. You marked how the boy flinched. The metals clanking on contact.

He turned to you then, motioning to the pin in your hand then the boy's arm. Realization hit you. You tried to shake your head, refuse; but one glare of his and you were compelled. Reluctantly, you turned around, trudging to the boy.

Something was wrong.

You could feel it. Why... why would he want you to stab this poor boy? A picture of misery, he was. You noted he didn't have any sign of bruises in his body - peculiar. Yet, his fragile state was enough to give you a hint that he had been here for days. Perhaps, starved too. The tension was high and all you wanted was to leave this room, in an instant.

Fine, if Sukuna wanted you to just stab the boy. You'd do it. Missing the vital points which could end his life. One, he said. You'll miss the point and done. Its not upon you that you'd pierce the wrong place. His instructions weren't specific—that'd be your excuse.

He won't die. Not from your hands.

You gently held the boy's arm, angling the pointers on the muscles. You drove it in.

Miscalculation.

The boy's body instantly stiffened, a gut wrenching scream erupted from his mouth. He thrashed around, swinging his legs and arms, his body twitching violently.

You recoiled back soon, yanking out the pin, stepping away on instinct. You watched with terror.

Foam rose up the boy's mouth, his shrieks pierced your eardrums. The fluid dripped down his jaw, marring his clothes. He clutched the area where you stabbed him. Scratching at it with all his might. The sound of flesh ripping filled your ears as the boy ruthlessly, tore the muscles.

You were stunted. You couldn't speak or move. You weren't chained but you felt as if a thousand shackles bore you down.

The next seconds were a blur. The screams started to die down, his body losing it's color. Sooner than you could grasp, did the room turn silent again.

The boy was dead.

"Enjoyed the show, wife?"

You slapped your hand over your mouth, stumbling a few steps back. You couldn't tear your eyes off the young boy, bile rose up your throat as the room started to spin.

"Wh-what did you-"

No- you couldn't throw up, whatever second thought it was, it refrained you from crumbling to your knees and make a mess. Shivers went down your spine, you struggled to stand straight. The stench of the corpse and the expunging liquids started to fill your nostrils. You were almost on the verge to lose consciousness.

"What... did you do?"

Your eyes flickered to Sukuna. He stood tall, not a sign of emotion on his mien. You regret ever considering mirth to the worst feature on him, cause none was more terrifying.

And he was watching you.

It reminded you of the time, you first saw him - covered with blood of the lives he had taken, down the river bank. Victim of naivety and ignorance, you didn't know any better than to not let him see you. Wandering towards the peculiar beast, even when a gut wrenching terror asked you to run; you were stubborn. You had asked - are you alright?

"What did you do?" You repeated again.

Tilting his head, he kept his unwavering gaze fixed on you. "As a matter of fact, I didn't do anything, wife." He paused, letting the horror shadow your features, "It was all you."

You needed to run.

The kanzashi– which was till then clasped in your hand firmly– fell down. A clank, you heard.

One step.

One step towards the door. He is standing afore you, the fingers of his upper right arm ran through your open hair, tangling in the roots, he yanked your head back.

"I don't remember, giving you the permission to leave."

Tears prickled your eyes as you tried to break free. Sukuna was having none of it. He dragged you by your hair towards the corpse of the boy. Your nails jabbed into his wrist while whimpers of anguish left your mouth.

Sukuna shoved you down to your knees, tugging your hair back - you were sure, they will be ripped off if he yanked with any more pressure - he made you glance at its face. He crouched beside you. With a flick of his finger, he ripped the blindfold out of the boy.

"Dare to shut your eyes."

Compliance had become second nature.

The body was rigid, skin turning blue. The veins on his arms were bulged out, his mouth wide open, filled with foam, trickling down his cheek, drying on it.

The sight caused you to gag.

Horrifying. His bloodshot eyes were wide open, protruding out of the sockets. Irises dilated in shape, which you considered humanly impossible. But what had your heart hammering in your chest wasn't the vivid details you saw on the corpse. It was the fact, that you recognized the boy. Son of that distant elder cousin, you'd seen once or twice in a year.

"Look at that, love." Sukuna cooed in your ear, forcing you to face the corpse.

You shook your head violently, nails dug into his wrist - desperate to escape. Your heart thumped inside your ribcage, you could hear it in your ears, your guts twisted in numerous ways as sweatbeads trailed down your forehead.

"You did that."

No. No, you didn't. You didn't do it. It wasn't you.

"You killed him."

No, you didn't... he didn't die because of you.

"Take a good look. See what you've done."

You vigorously shook your head. Denying all of his claims cause... cause they were... false, yes, false. They were false.

"No," You stated once you found your voice. "N-no, no... I- no."

Sukuna hummed, twisting a knot in your hair, "Yes, you. You did it."

No. You were innocent. You weren't to be blamed. It wasn't you.

It was... him.

"No, no, I didn't," You refused again, standing your ground. Moving your eyes towards him, you gritted your teeth. "No, I didn't do it. I didn't do anything. It was you."

"Really? How so?"

Fire burnt in your eyes. It was enough. He couldn't make you believe which you didn't commit - you didn't kill him.

"Poison," You said with conviction lacing your tone. "He was poisoned, a stab wouldn't procure such a reaction."

"Observant as ever," He mused, quirking up an eyebrow. A faint smile curled up on his lips. "Still, it doesn't gratify the fact that you were the one to end his life."

Blood boiled inside you, surging through your veins like lava. He had no right to accuse you of something. You didn't kill him, he couldn't make you believe it, whatsoever may happen.

"I may have stabbed him with the kanzashi, but that didn't have any trace of poison in it. I am-"

"Sure of it?"

You could only glare at him. He was toying with you. Tugging the strings of your conscience but you won't have any of it. "I am," You confirmed, staring at him without any falters. "I held it... you held it. If it was really drenched with toxicant as lethal as that, we- we both would be dead."

His grip loosened from your hair, hand falling down. The corners of his eyes crinkled, the smile turning into a smirk.

"It was you," You continued. "You did something to him at first and-"

Sukuna broke into a chortle of laughter. Far from jovial, more so sinister, filled with sheer malevolence. He gripped your jaw, pulling you closer to himself. His sharp canines glinted in the dim light.

"You just keep on fascinating me, wife."

Each second with him was revolting. Just his touch alone had your skin crawling. Yet, you couldn't let him know he has the upper hand.

"We had a pact," You stated firmly. His game was disgusting. What was he trying to do? What was his goal? "If I stay with you, you wouldn't lay a finger on my family, then- h-how could-"

"I would still stand on the ground, that I didn't do anything." He replied, a hint of amusement in his tone. "It was all you, wife. I can assure you that I didn't go back in my words." His canines glinted while he smiled. "Not a flick of pain. Save for..." He paused, his eyes widening, the carmine irises glowed in the dark. "Save for telling him, he'd be killed by a snake bite."

"There was no venom on my pin."

"Know so," He confirmed, a playful smirk on his visage. You wished you could read minds, if possible only of him, that'd been enough. Then where did poison come from? You wanted to question but he beat you to it.

"His fear turned into poison."

You blinked. Once. Twice. You knew he had an urge to play mind games but this was ridiculous. You questioned, shell-shocked, "What?"

"He let his fear get the better of him, assuming your pin to be a snake. He believed it." He explained while you listened without so much as a word. "His conscience caused his body to give out the exact reactions, he imagined. A shock, you might say. That caused his death."

His game was disgusting. If he thought, he could just give you any excuse as this and let you believe his accusations then he was mad wrong. You gritted your teeth, yanking your face away from his grip. For a second, you saw all of his eyes opening wide with surprise. But that didn't extinguish the fire burning in you.

He reached out, dragging you towards him via the arm. A glare resting on his face. "What did I tell about refusi-"

"I don't believe you," You cut him off, hands clenched into fists. It was the first time in a long time, you lost your composure in front of him. No, you wouldn't play as his doll anymore. He broke his promise, its only fair that you do so. "I don't believe a single word you say. You- you did something, you must have. Fear, belief, whatever the fuck, something as trivial as that-"

"So you think fear is trivial, wife?" He sighed, his clutch in your arm remained firm. The rough callouses of his palm, rubbed over your skin. "And here I thought, you might be different than the rest. But you managed to drop below my expectations."

"Maybe that's what I love about you, darling." He continued.

Disgust arose in you yet again. Love. As if he had any of that. He wasn't capable of love. Not in this lifetime. Never.

He spoke again, "Times you are the smartest I have seen, then you speak such blasphemy which would even embarrass the Gods you worship. Your silence was awarded by him leaning near your ear. He twisted a curl of your hair between his fingers. "Fear, wife..." He whispered to you. "Fear is a mind killer. It makes you believe anything. The small drop of poison which contaminates all the water."

"In the end, belief and fear are sides of the same coin," His top two eyes, flickered to the corpse of the boy. "I made him consume the poison of fear and you-" He turned to you again. "You made him believe it... so, in a way, yes. Yes, I did do something. Save for the part of ending his life. Though I didn't break my part of our pact." A smirk tugged on his lips. "You were the one who killed him. Isn't that great?"

Your breath hitched, throat gone dry. You gazed at him, eyes wide open. Your mind was a blank canvas.

Fear, poison, belief, killing...

He made you kill someone. An innocent boy who didn't even do anything.

Why won't he much rather just end your life?

Sukuna pulled away from you, standing up, he walked over to the lantern placed in the room. The stench of the rotting corpse had long ago started to pool in.

"You made me kill him." You whispered, still knelt, staring at the floor. When greeted with silence, you questioned again, a tone higher, "You made me kill him."

"And?"

His nonchalance had always been infuriating to you.

You could feel him standing a few steps behind you. "If you really wanted to kill my kin, you should've just told me. Getting your herbs was a tiring chore." You didn't miss the emphasis he put on, herbs. The roll of his eyes while speaking floated before your eyes even though you couldn't see him; the expression must had turned to a smirk later. "However, the taste of taking a life– isn't it delicious, wife?"

Guilt gnawed at you, tearing you internally. Your shoulders trembled as you let out ragged breaths, eyes fixed on the bloodied arm of the boy. The same arm where the kanzashi pierced, the muscles torn apart, blood drying on it due to the boy's onslaught. Nausea overrode your senses, bile rose up your throat and the next moment you were throwing up. The wastes ran down your mouth, your nails dug into the wooded boards – bruising your fingertips and chipping the nails. You didn't realize Sukuna stepping up to your side, pulling your hair back while you were caught into the ordeal.

A disapproving grunt left his mouth after you were finished, yanking you up with your wrist. He pulled you towards the door. "Com-"

"No." Your heels remained firm on the ground. You refused him before you could even think. He turned towards you slightly, a scowl resting on his features before he pivoted around. He cast a glare upon you but before he could speak, your mouth opened again.

"You're even lower than scum." Your jaw ticked, hands clenching into fists. "You made me kill an innocent boy. Someone who might have done nothing to you, You– You disgust me, Sukuna."

Done you were with the respect, he demanded. If that angered him, made him want to rip out your heart and watch the life drain from your eyes. He was most welcome.

But it looks like, he wasn't resorting to any of that.

"You made me a murderer." You urged, staying strong in your stance. "You turned me into you."

His eyebrow twitched, a wave of mirth washed over him. "You were always like me, wife."

"I am nothing-"

"You are. You are like me. You are no saint, as you think so of yourself. " He said, leaving no room for argument. His lips pressed tight into a thin line.

Yet, you refused to believe that. You were nothing like him. Couldn't even dream so. You were not him.

"You kill children in your womb, I kill them after they're born. How is it so different?"

"It is different." You yelled, your jaw clenched, teeth baring out. "This world needs no more of your lineage, it needs no more of you." You jabbed your pointer finger on his chest, tears pooling into your eyes. You refused to shed them. "You kill for your own sake, I do not."

"Then who do you kill for?"

"For everyone." The faint snort of his reached your ears. You couldn't decipher what he found so delightful in this.

"Playing God, are we?" He mocked causing your vexation to rise.

"Maybe I am. For the least, I am not killing innocent people like you."

From where such defiance arose, you weren't sure of. Perhaps, all the frustration, fright, terror which accumulated till now had reached its limit. Moreover, Sukuna's provocation must be the fuel to the fire.

You might be left bleeding– No, you would be left bleeding. You welcomed it with open arms.

"Careful," Sukuna pushed a strand of your hair behind your ear. "All Gods aren't worshipped."

He was enjoying himself. In all honesty, your obedience was getting too monotonous. This was better. Your defiance was amusing. Arousing, if there's to add. If he knew, letting you end a few lives would have this effect then he would have resorted to this long ago.

"Better than you." You shoved his hand away, "You are nothing more than a wretched, two-faced curse destroying all of our lives."

He noted your scowl, the way your lips were shut tight, your eyebrows crinkled together. Reasons evident, all he desired was to pull you into his arms smash his lips against yours. Taste the very essence of your being. Consume you wholly, just the way you are. So that in the end, your name, your taste, your scent would be engraved in his very soul. Without your mention, he wouldn't be complete.

But he refrained from giving in now. His desire extended to a far more sinister route. "I wonder..."

What would it be like to break your conviction? What would it be like to break you?

Oh, he knew.

Would it be right moment to let you know? Maybe he should wait for another, more appropriate time.

Hmm, perhaps he should. But no.

He let you play these games for too long. Tired of this game plan, he was. Maybe, you would just come to your senses if he let you know. So he let the words, flow out:

"I wonder, why this curse keeps protecting your pathetic life from people who would cross rivers to lay siege to your life?"

Worth everything.

Sukuna watched as your face lost its color. The previous boldness you presented him with was replaced by a mask of confusion and. Such a pretty sight, it was. To see you, falter from your stand. Second guess, yourself, be in denial then rage consumes you. And you look at him, like he was the forbearer of your misery. (He is).

Oh, how good he has you memorized.

Even the littlest of reactions you contort on your mien, on your mannerisms; everything has him intrigued. You have him intoxicated.

"You know the ones, the people... your people, for whom you play this God."

Sukuna wished he could capture this moment. He'd have the chance to take a glimpse of it again, whenever he wished to. The horrified look on your face as the weight of his words started to sink in.

Would you still look like this if he tells you the terror he bestowed on them who tried to steal you away from him? What would you say if he vividly describes each imagery of how he slowly, agonizingly burnt them, severed them and tormented them? Leaving them nothing but fragments beyond recognition.

You were his. All of you belonged to him. Without his sanction, no one could even see you, let alone touch you. Ah- just how many sorcerers perished from his hands, the number of villages, bathed in blood; save for yours. (Courtesy to that stupid pact, he forged with you)

Something had told him, that there'd be a better time to put an end to the pitiful lives of your kin.

"Can't speak? What caused so, darling?" His tone was laced with smugness, a twisted joy elicited in him. "Fearful that your play amounted to nothing?"

Your jaw ticked with anger. You were furious. "I don't believe you. You are lying."

Your trust on humans was commendable, he'd give you that. However, there's stark contrast between faith and blind belief. You were inclining towards the latter.

So, what do they do when words fail to convey message? Oh right, you give them a prime example.

"Let me just show it to you then, wife."

It was a gamble, he was willing to make. To keep you with him, forever, as he wanted - he needed you to know that no place other than his arms would be as comforting. Even if that meant breaking your very soul, so be it.

You were home.

One moment, Sukuna held your gaze. The next, you are standing before your hearth.

Toes dipping into the familiar black soil, the land where you ran and played during your childhood. Your familial home stood steps away from you. Still looked the same except the visible cracks on the wall, a layer of dust on top of the door and the woods looked worn out. However, what caught your eyes weren't the flaws of your home but the familiar older woman walking into your home.

"Mother…"

She stilled all of a sudden, rotating on her heels, her eyes landed on you. Shell shocked, that's what she was with the widened eyes and parted lips. A small smile curved up on your lips, she still looked the same except the few grey hairs and wrinkles aside her eyes.

"Mother," You called again, taking a step towards her. "I am back."

Sooner than you expected, her eyebrows scrunched up, mouth curving down when she finally registered your presence. You weren't some illusion or her mind playing tricks. "What are you here for?"

The disdainful tone caused you to flinch. You didn't expect this. Returning home, you dreamt of it to be filled with tears of joy and warm embraces. Not this… whatever, she was presenting you with. But- But its fine, you have returned after a two whole years. She must have been worried. The reason of her apprehension. God, you had a lot making up to do.

"Well, you know," You chuckled lightly, scratching the back of your neck. "Back… just back. I have returned."

"Found your way after two years?" She crossed her arms over her chest, staring at you with a look you didn't want to recognize.

You nodded, "Yes. How could I forget my way? Our address, its-"

You were interrupted when your name was spit out from her mouth. Her glare on you was palpable, "I know what it is. What are you here for?"

Her fury even made your skin crawl with fear. You were often on the receiving end of her glare when you were a child, given by your tendencies to run around and cause trouble for others. Yet, those glares, were none like this. This- this- you didn't want to name what it was.

"You are angry," You don't know if its directed towards your mother or yourself as you hold onto the last bit of fragments that not all is lost. "I get it, I really do." You stood on your toes, attempting to look behind her, into your house. "Where's father? Tell him, I am-"

"No more."

As if the air was knocked out of your lungs.

"What?" Your neck craned towards her so fast, it might have left a sprain. Yet, that was the least of your concern. "What do you mean by no more?"

"No more means no more." Your mother's sigh fell heavy on the air, words carried the weight of the world. Laid with pain underneath.

"How- when? Wha-what happened?" You couldn't wrap your mind around the new discovery. No one told you such. Who could've guessed? Such an ordeal to occur in your absence. And what might she be going through, without you. You didn't even get the chance to talk to him, one last time.

"A year ago," She confessed, her voice conveyed her lament and sorrow. Her words felt like a hammered blow on the fragile façade of hope, you had intricately crafted for yourself. However, she wasn't done. Her eyes held scorn, lips curled up to a sneer. "Aren't you satisfied? You finally made your mark. Must tell you," Her voice, once filled with love held nothing save for contempt, directed at you. "Good game, you played, dear." She spit the endearment as if, it were poison.

"No, I- I never wanted any of this. What are you even talking about?" A trembling footfall towards her, you whispered, "M-mother-"

"Don't you dare call me that."

The weight of her judgement felt heavy on you, pressing down, suffocating you alike chains.

"You are no daughter of mine."

You weren't aware since when the tears had sprang up your eyes, breaking the barricades, they shed down. Your throat burnt as you struggled to even breathe, clutching your chest - a searing pain shooting in your heart. Your heart was shattering from the ultimate rejection from your own flesh and blood.

"While you're at it, know this." Your mother continued.

The next words were like a blow to the gut, each syllable lined with the weight of revelations. Ones that hung in the air like a funeral shroud.

"In his last moments, his only regret was bringing a daughter like you in this world."

This night just doesn't seem to end, does it?

You were left as a hollow shell. Tethering the steps away from the home you were no more welcomed. Exhaustion reigned heavy on you. Physically and mentally.

Where were you going? You didn't know. Just where your feet would take you, there would you go. Perhaps, you can return to Sukuna. Would he take you back? Most probably not. Considering, your earlier outburst, adding to the fact that you refused to give him what you want; he might just discard you as you proved to be useless.

Funny. It was so damn funny. Once, you wished to escape from his hands whatsoever the price yet now… now you considered returning to him.

You could hear him calling you pathetic. Disgusting. More disgusting, that you agreed with him.

You were truly pathetic.

But before you could spiral down the void of self-hatred, a voice- nah, multiple voices startled you.

"There she is, parading around some meek, innocent girl." A scoff is added. "You are far from it."

"The nerve of you to just walk back into our lives after you betrayed us."

Your neck cranes to your left, an old man - the village elder with a few other men and women following behind; they approached you. "Excuse me?"

"Who do you think you are?" A woman's cry reached your ears. "Returning after you turned your back on us."

You flinched at the accusation thrown. What could be possibly be instigating? To all your knowledge, you were walking in this- in your village after two long years. Anger, disdain and accusatory glares clouded their features. If your mother's insults weren't enough to pierce through your heart then it certainly did now, with all the people, you once called your own to look at you like you were the monster.

You summoned the least bit of courage you had, squared your shoulders and started, "I'd have you know-"

"Traitors don't get to speak." At the center of the crowd was the village elder. He was the pillars of your hamlet, revered for his wisdom and guidance, but now he looked akin a judge ready to deliver his sentence upon you. A sentence which would push you more into this conundrum. "You've been cavorting to that monster. Disgusting."

"I am no traitor." You retorted soon. "You can't accuse me of such when you don't ev-"

"Save it for someone who would care, whore."

The curse had your mouth parted in disbelief, horror etched upon your mien. Sooner than you could compose yourself, did whispers of agreement rippled through the crowd which branded you as a traitor.

"You are just as twisted as him."

"Get out of here if you so much as hold your life dear."

"Don't play as the innocent bitch, now."

The accusation hung in the air like a dark cloud, poisoning the atmosphere with its venomous hatred. Your breath was caught in your throat as you searched desperately for words to defend yourself; the crowd's hostility rendered you speechless. But amidst the cacophony of condemnation, one voice stood out above the rest.

I wonder, why this curse keeps protecting your pathetic life from people who would cross rivers to lay down yours?

Really? Were you really recalling his words now? Now of all times… You truly were pathetic.

For one moment, You just stayed silent - letting their accusations bore you down. Somewhere you wished all of it were just a nightmare. You'll soon wake up on your bed beside Sukun- fuck! Since when did you start to expect to wake up with him? He- He was toying with your mind. This was the only result. But the fact that this was your thought process had you recoil back.

The next moment, everything made sense.

These accusations were stemmed from the fact that you- you were proclaimed to be the wife of the King of curses. Your unwillingness to return, given for the pact you forged with Sukuna, was taken as your cue that you betrayed your family, your home, your people.

Your family despised you. Your people despised you. The very same people you chose to protect were turning their back on you.

Did they truly try to lay down your life?

Amidst your plight, you didn't register when the village elder marched up to you. "Didn't you hea-" His trial at speech was cut off. Nay, his lifeline was cut off. (Humorous, isn't it?)

Numerous red lines appeared on his body before it burst off into a globs of flesh and blood. Blood which splashed onto you, marring your visage and attire with its hues.

He was here. You knew it. You could feel it.

For some reason, it filled you with a sense of relief.

However, your people were on the other end of the rope. The eyes which afore held hatred and disgust, they were now filled with horror and fright. In this reverie as the villagers started to flee, a torch tumbled on the ground - lighting the grass on fire. The winds showed no mercy, as the howls increased, so did the flames.

Provoking him was never the right move.

You were digging your own grave.

Playing with fire only gets you burnt.

Flames surrounded you, crawling up your skin, the screams piercing your ears, your chest heaved up and down. Gaze, once settled on your hearth, now all you saw were the burning huts, the crackling of embers reached your ears. Attire and hands stained with blood of the insolent.

No one touches what's mine.

The warning shouldn't have been taken lightly. Should have known, the extent of his power.

Eyes held terror, fright, regret- whatever you could name. The multitude of names you received seemed no more than a distant dream, nowhere to be found. All were running away - expectable.

You expected calamity, but you were calm.

The sparks danced over your irises as everything went down in the crimson hues. Save for you, you weren't burning. Not an spark touched your skin. Was it the distance or the control? Who knows. But one confirmation which you held was that - tonight you won't die. Not so soon either.

Careful, not all Gods are worshipped.

The words rang in your ears and as if on cue, you found him again. In this trance of insanity, only one thing held your sight when you attempted to turn - The eyes tinted with crimson.

All of a sudden, something burnt inside you too.

Unbridled rage consumed you. Your chest heaved up and down as ragged breath left your mouth. Their words came back to you, ringing in your ears as if you were pushed into a void.

Who do you think you are? Returning after you turned your back on us.

Would this bitch even be alive if you prioritized yourself?

Don't play as the innocent bitch, now.

Is that the thanks you get for trying to protect them?

Traitors don't get to talk.

Traitor… fine, you'd be the traitor.

With caution you took one step towards him. No reaction. Your chance - you took another. Then another and another. You stood before him, with nothing save for a void etching your features. Amusement flickered over him, the corner of his lip curled up.

"Saw it for yourself wife?"

Seemed like silence was your go-to response lately. From your peripheral, you saw the burning houses, the distant screams reached you. For some reason, the screams were almost soothing. You revelled in this. Their gut wrenching shrieks were like a balm to your essence.

Their predicament was your solace.

Sounded like someone you knew. Someone who had warned you about them but you chose to remain ignorant. Sickening… were you becoming like him?

You were always like me, wife.

You could laugh. Maybe you were like him.

"Let's forge another pact?" You offered, keeping your eyes pinned on him.

"A pact?"

"A pact."

A smirk curved up his lips, the upper pair of arms crossed over his chest, "Humour me, love."

The smirk wasn't directly for you. But he did. So you returned it back. One with an equal malicious intent. Cause in that moment, no second thoughts, no doubts clouded your mind. And so, you uttered the blasphemy:

"You kill them all, each and everyone. In return, I will stay with you, give you an heir. Whatever you want from me."

A year later

Screams died down after a gruelling ten hours.

"Good news, Sukuna sama. It's a boy."

A/N: Honestly, I was almost done with this fic, long ago but while writing the climax, I kept chickening out with all the self-doubts but then I just wrote what I wanted. I do understand if the ending is not up to your liking and I sincerely apologize for it.

However, thanks for reading up till the end. I enjoyed writing this a lot. Some feedback is appreciated <3

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