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mononijikayu · 21 days

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the other woman — ryomen sukuna.

“Do not mistake this for affection.” he warned, his voice low and rough. “I am still who I am. I am still the monster you should fear.” But you could only nod, your heart aching with a mixture of sorrow and hope. “I know,” you whispered. “I know, but I’m still here.” And for the first time, you thought you saw a hint of softness in his eyes, a flicker of something that could almost be… understanding. Maybe, just maybe, you were starting to reach him, one fragile step at a time.

GENRE: alternate universe - heian era;

WARNING/S: nsfw, angst, one sided romance, conflicted feelings, hurt/no comfort, unhappy marriage, hurt, physical touch, character death, mourning, loneliness, pain, grief, unhappy ending, depiction of one-sided relationship, depiction of grief, depiction of complicated relationship, depiction of illness, depiction of canon related violence, depiction of loneliness, mention of grief, mention of illness, mention of loneliness, heian! sukuna, long suffering concubine! reader;

WORD COUNT: 11k words

NOTE: this was always going to be long, because it's heartbreaking. and heartbreaking ones have to be something that has to be expressed well. i listened to this in a audio software like its a podcast and i actually liked it. the other woman by nina simone was the constant in the writing. also, this is the aftermath of ashes of love, which is a series i did about heian sukuna. anyway, i hope you enjoy this!!! i love you all <3

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YOU KNEW THAT YOU WERE THIS UNLUCKY. The moment you were born, there would be a bleak fate for you to live. You were an accidental child, and multiple times, your own mother had nearly miscarried. Perhaps even as a fetus, you had always known this. How cursed you were. Even if you had done nothing.

When your mother brushed your hair as a child, she would tell you of how you were born. She said that when you breathed the air for the first time, you were melancholic in the silence to the world. Somehow knew that you were built for this miserable world. And every day since that day, you knew. You were meant to live life without true joyous jubilation.

It did not help that the day you were born, there was a lone dark star in the morning sky, one which had been considered a bad omen. And with that, the whispers of fate echoing long before you had even had consciousness to know. Your village nestled in the shadowed valleys of Hida province, a place of whispered dread and ancient pacts. And for the longest of times, the once prosperous Hida province was in turmoil.

And so, in those days, if there was anyone who controlled the ruins of Hida, it was that god-like curse user Ryomen Sukuna. His name alone was a talisman against the unknown horrors that lurked beyond the mountains, a deity whose power and wrath commanded fear and reverence in equal measure. And all either quivered at the sight of him or drew fanatic fervor.

The Ryomen clan, his kin at one point, were at war—embroiled in brutal conflicts with neighboring clans for so long. And this had been going on before you were even born. The blood had soaked the earth for so long that the soil seemed to thirst for it. And the people were exhausted.

The clan struggled to maintain control over Hida for a long time now, their influence fraying like an old tapestry torn at the seams. And with that, a power vacuum had long been in existence. The chaos of the era was a tide that threatened to drown them all, and Ryomen Sukuna's protection became the last fragile hope for those who called this land their home.

Your parents spoke in hushed voices of the offerings, the sacrifices made by the villagers to appease their god, the man who can save them, this man to fear and worship, Ryomen Sukuna. To ensure his protection, they said. For years, the sacrifices continued, the chosen ones becoming mere footnotes in a history written in blood and fear.

It came upon you rather quickly when you were young and it struck you—that the villagers saw you not as one of their own, but as a piece on a board, a pawn destined for slaughter. A sacrifice to their god. You would be among the countless, one more life to be cast into the jaws of the demon god they all feared.

The day of your sacrifice came as the sky was painted with hues of blood and gold, a cruel irony that did not escape you. The air was heavy with incense and prayer, but there was no comfort in their muttered words, no solace in the chants that pleaded for Sukuna's mercy. They adorned you in ceremonial robes, marked with symbols and sigils, your skin painted with the sacred ink that was supposed to cleanse your soul before the offering.

You were led through the village, a procession of death that seemed to stretch on forever. The eyes that watched you pass were filled with a mixture of pity and relief—relief that it was not them, not their child, not their blood that would be spilled today. Mothers held their children close, men bowed their heads, and the elders chanted in a low, continuous hum that sent shivers down your spine.

At the shrine, they bound you to the altar, thick ropes biting into your skin as you stared at the sky, searching for a sign, a miracle that never came. The high priest began his incantation, his voice rising above the murmur of the crowd. You could feel the cold seep into your bones, the air around you thickening as if the very world held its breath.

And then, you felt it—the shift in the air, the heavy presence that pressed against your chest like a vice. You had never seen him before, but you knew it was Sukuna. The villagers gasped, a collective intake of breath as his form materialized from the shadows, a figure cloaked in malice and power.

His eyes, crimson and unforgiving, swept over you like a cold blade. You felt your heart hammer against your ribcage, fear clawing at your throat. You were nothing to him, just another offering, another desperate plea from a village clinging to survival.

Ryomen Sukuna smiled, a slow, cruel smile that sent a tremor through the crowd. He stepped forward, each movement a ripple in the air, as if reality itself bent to his will. You met his gaze, defiant in your fear, knowing that you were one of many. Countless lives had been given to him, countless souls lost to his hunger.

And now, it was your turn.

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YOU HAD NEVER EXPECTED TO MEET THE MAN IN THE FLESH. But before you stood this man, this god, with dark crimson eyes. Taller than any tree, intimidating than any curse. Frightening than hell itself. You could remember when you were younger. The whispers reached you before you even stepped foot in the shrine, everyone has. Tales of Ryomen Sukuna had traveled through the villages like the wind, carrying with them rumors that were both terrifying and tragic.

You had always known that the man was delighted with the worship of the human people. But they said he had taken no other concubines, that he showed no interest in any woman who dared come near him.

And if he did, they were more likely to be servants than anything close to a concubine. And some were not so lucky. Some spoke in hushed tones, their voices trembling with fear, that he was a monster of unspeakable debauchery, one who had killed the women for even daring to breathe in his presence.

But the truth, as you had come to understand it, was far more tragic. At least from how you see it. The people of Hida knew—oh, they believed—the story was told long ago. There was someone who had been so loved long ago and most of all, by Sukuna.

Ryomen Hiromi, the one who had captured Sukuna's heart, the one he had loved beyond reason. There was another Sukuna a long time ago, many were aware. But there was nothing proven.

If anything, the children of Hiromi reject any notion of such a relationship. But the tale was woven into the very fabric of tales told, whispered among the elders late at night and shared in riddles among the children who barely understood the weight of what they spoke.

Hiromi, they said, had been his sun, his moon, his stars. A woman of beauty and strength, whose laughter could calm the wildest storms and whose voice was like the sweetest song. She had been the only one to ever touch his heart, to see the man beneath the demon god. But she was gone now, lost to time and tragedy, leaving Ryomen Sukuna to languish in his grief.

No one dared speak her name aloud, not when Sukuna’s rage could split the earth itself. People have seen it. It was said he mourned her loss every day, that his fury was born from the emptiness she left behind. And that was why he would not tolerate any other woman. No one was going to be like her. None would match her wit, her beauty. Why should the king of curses settle for less when he had the world?

As you lay on the cold altar, the ropes cutting into your skin, your thoughts were consumed by the stories. What kind of man—no, what kind of creature—was Sukuna? You wonder about this paradox of a man, this creature like god.

Did he truly mourn, or was that just another tale spun by terrified villagers to make him seem more human? What was he, actually? You had a million questions, and you know they will never truly be answered.

A gust of wind stirred the trees around you, the leaves rustling like whispered secrets. You heard the shuffle of feet, felt the eyes of the villagers upon you, their fear palpable. Then, you heard his voice. You could feel it all, that powerful cursed energy, coming from one direction. For a moment, you had no words. Only uncertainty.

"Why do they send another?" Sukuna's voice was like a low growl, rumbling through the air with the force of a storm. "Do you think I am so easily appeased, you fools?"

You dared to lift your head, the ropes pulling at your skin as you met his crimson gaze. He was tall, imposing, and every bit as terrifying as the stories had painted him. But there was something else there—something in his eyes that spoke of deep, simmering pain.

"Do you truly want to know why they sent me?" you found yourself saying, your voice steady despite the fear clawing at your throat.

His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you thought he might strike you down then and there. But he didn’t. Instead, he tilted his head, a cruel smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"Speak, then, girl." he said. "Tell me why I should not turn you to dust where you lie."

You swallowed, gathering your courage. "They send me because they fear you, because they believe you will protect them if they give you what you want. But… no one knows what you truly want, do they? No one speaks of her. Of Hiromi."

His expression shifted, a shadow passing over his face, and you knew you had struck a nerve. The air grew colder, a chill that seemed to seep into your very bones.

"Hiromi is dead." he said, his voice quiet but filled with an edge that could cut through steel. "And no one speaks her name. It is what I command.”

"But you still mourn her…." you continued, unable to stop yourself. "Do you not, my lord?”

His dark gaze bore into you, the weight of it almost unbearable. For a long moment, he said nothing, and the silence stretched on like an eternity. Then, slowly, he laughed—a sound that was bitter and hollow.

"You dare ask?" he repeated, as if the word was foreign to him. "What do you know of it all, little one? What do you know about such a life lived?"

You felt a tremor run through you, but you did not look away. "I know enough, my lord." you replied softly. "I know enough to see that your anger is not born of hatred, but of grief."

Sukuna's cruel smile quickly faded, and for a brief moment, you thought you saw something in his eyes—a flicker of vulnerability, quickly swallowed by the darkness. He hated how you said it, you know it too well. But there was no other choice. You were here for a purpose and you must fulfill it. You must.

"You are bold, little one." he murmured. "Bold….for someone so close to death."

"Perhaps, my lord." you whispered back to him. "But if I am to die, I would rather die knowing who you truly are, rather than the monster they say you are."

He stared at you for a long time, his expression unreadable. Then, he stepped closer, so close that you could feel the heat radiating from his body, the power that thrummed through him like a thunder strike.

"Then you are a fool, little one." he said quietly. "For believing that I am anything more than a monster."

But there was something in his voice, something that made you wonder if perhaps… he wished you were right.

For the meantime, you were lucky to have your life, despite speaking so boldly, despite saying her name aloud—the name that everyone else dared not utter. Sukuna’s silence stretched on, his crimson eyes still locked onto yours, unreadable, cold yet burning with something darker beneath the surface. He could have ended you with a flick of his wrist, reduced you to ashes for your insolence. And yet, he did not.

He leaned closer, the edges of his form blurring into the shadows that seemed to ripple around him like stabbing waves in the ocean. His breath was hot against your skin, his presence overwhelming, suffocating. You felt your heart pound in your chest, each beat a drum that signaled your fragile hold on life.

“Perhaps you are simply foolish. Many have died for far less than what you dared to speak.” Sukuna finally said, his voice low, almost contemplative. “Huh, you speak brashly.”

The villagers around you seemed to hold their breath, waiting for his judgment. They looked at you with a mixture of horror and awe, unable to believe you were still alive after uttering the forbidden name. You, a mere sacrifice, a lamb thrown to the wolf, had survived what so many others had not.

“Why do you think I will let you live?” Sukuna’s voice cut through the tense silence, his tone curious, but with a dangerous edge. “Do you think I find you interesting? Amusing? Or perhaps I see something of her in you, something worth sparing?”

You swallowed hard, the reality of your situation settling in. You had survived speaking out of turn, but you were still bound to this altar, still at the mercy of a being who could destroy you on a whim. Yet, something in his words gave you pause, a flicker of something unspoken that lingered just beneath his surface.

“I do not presume to know your reasons, my lord.” you replied carefully, choosing each word like a step on thin ice. “But if you see something of her in me… then perhaps I am not so different from you after all.”

Sukuna’s gaze sharpened, his eyes narrowing. “Not so different?” He laughed, a sound that was both mirthful and bitter, filled with a deep, aching emptiness. “You compare yourself to me? To Ryomen Sukuna? You are a child, a mere mortal who knows nothing of gods or demons, of love that scorches the soul and burns the world to ash.”

“And yet…..” you dared to continue, feeling the tightness in your chest. “If my lord felt nothing, you wouldn’t care enough to be angry… or to remember.”

He stiffened, and for a moment, his expression faltered. The shadows seemed to deepen around him, his aura flickering like a candle flame caught in a strong wind. You sensed that you were dancing on a razor’s edge, but you could not stop now. There was something here, something raw and real beneath the monstrous exterior.

“Enough.” Sukuna hissed, his voice a sharp command. The air grew colder, and you felt a shiver run down your spine. “You dare much, human. Too much.”

You pressed your lips together, bracing yourself for the inevitable blow, the moment when his patience would finally snap. But instead, Sukuna’s lips curled into a faint smile, one that did not reach his eyes.

“Perhaps I will spare you.” he murmured, almost as if speaking to himself. “If only to see how long that fire burns before it is extinguished. Or perhaps to see if you will end up like the rest—broken, hollow, pleading for mercy where there is none.”

He turned away from you then, his back a wall of power and darkness, his form towering against the dim light of the shrine. The villagers started, stunned, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“You will reside in my temple.” Sukuna commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You will remain there, under my watch. Let them see what comes of those who speak of things best left forgotten.”

A murmur rippled through the crowd, a mixture of fear and shock. They did not understand why he had spared you, why you, of all people, were allowed to live. Perhaps they thought you were cursed, or perhaps they thought Sukuna had some darker plan in mind. But you knew better. You knew that, in some small way, you had touched on a wound that had never healed, a scar buried deep beneath his monstrous exterior.

And as Sukuna vanished into the shadows, you realized that your fate was no longer in the hands of the villagers, or even in the hands of the gods they prayed to. No, your fate was now bound to his—a god who mourned like a man, a monster who remembered what it was to love.

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IN A WAY, IT IS NOT SO BAD, BEING HIS CONCUBINE. You spent your days in isolation, your life confined within the walls of Sukuna's palace. You were nothing more than a servant, though they called you a concubine. The title meant little, for you were given no special privileges, no adornments, no tokens of affection.

But it was a life. Your life. And it lived in some comfort, more than what is experienced by the rest of Hida province. You had multiple meals a day, you had rooms to yourself and even servants that address every bit of your needs.

Still, your world was small, your days filled with the quiet tending of the gardens, watching the shifting sky as the hours bled into one another. The flowers you nurtured became your only friends, their petals a fragile comfort against the cold indifference that surrounded you.

Perhaps the peace came from the fact that you did not see Sukuna often, and when you did, his gaze never lingered on you for long. He had no interest, no affection, no fondness to spare. You were simply there, like a shadow in the corner of his realm.

A figure lost amidst the vast emptiness of his domain. And perhaps that was for the best. It was better than being forced into Sukuna’s bed. You think that all women in the harem think that it was better that way.

But slowly, ever so slowly, something changed. His dark scarlet eyes began to linger, just a fraction longer than before. You felt the weight of his gaze like a chill running down your spine.

The other servants noticed it too, their whispers growing louder, bolder. You finally caught his attention. But it wasn’t because he had come to care for you, to see you as anything more than the nothing you were.

No, the truth was much crueler than that.

You were a spitting image of Ryomen Hiromi, the woman who haunted his every step, the ghost who lived in the shadows of his mind. At least that’s what the people say. But you did not want to believe them. Yet, looking at the murals at the glass gardens, the resemblance was uncanny.

It was obvious somehow. It was similar, everything. Your eyes, your hair, the curve of your smile. Every feature, every gesture seemed to remind him of her. And though you knew you could never be her, you had become a cruel echo, a reflection of something he had long lost.

And soon enough, the people talked. Of course, they did. They always talked. You tried to shut them out, but the more they whispered, the more people listened. And the more they listened, the more people spoke.

“She reminds him of Hiromi, I am certain!” they whispered. “She is nothing but a shadow, a poor replacement for the one he truly loved. She lives in her image, as if she could ever hope to fill her place.”

You became the other woman, even when you didn’t want to be. No, not even that. You were a pale imitation, a mockery of a woman who had captured the heart of the king of curses. Every glance Ryomen Sukuna spared you was not a look of admiration or desire—it was the gaze of a man staring into the past, into a memory that was forever out of reach.

And so, you lived your life as another woman. No, the other woman. To a dead woman. To a love that had died long ago, but never truly left.

Sometimes, in the dead of night, when the silence was so thick it pressed against your skin like a heavy shroud, you would wonder about her. About Ryomen Hiromi. Who was she, really? What had she meant to him, this fearsome god, this creature of darkness who now watched you as if searching for something he had lost in her eyes, now reflected in yours.

He never spoke of her. He does not want to. He does not dare to. Not to you, not to anyone. Some servants have been here longer than you and they have seen people killed over even a mumble of a prayer for the lady. And so you don’t ask.

Not even when there were times he would come closer, when his dark eyes lingered on your face, searching, always searching. Yet he will never truly find it. He knew this, as much as you did. But it was as if he was trying to see her again, trying to find her in your skin, in your voice, in the way you moved through the gardens like she once had, perhaps. It was hope, a foolish hope. And yet you cannot escape this foolish hope.

The weight of her memory suffocated you. You were not allowed to be yourself, to have your own name, your own identity. You were always, always compared to her, measured against a ghost that you could never be, never touch. And Sukuna, with his cold gaze and his empty eyes, reminded you of it every day.

"You’re not her, little one." he said once, his voice low, more to himself than to you, as if testing a truth he could not fully accept. “You’ll never be her.”

His words cut deeper than any blade, leaving you with the bitter taste of something unnameable, something that tasted like defeat, or perhaps longing, or perhaps both. You had never wished to be her, to be anyone but yourself. But here, in his domain, under his shadow, you were not allowed that freedom.

You were trapped, forever bound to a life that was not your own, in the shadow of a dead woman who would never release you, and a man who could never let her go.

Days bled into nights, a blur of routine and solitude, and you began to feel like a ghost yourself, haunting the corners of Sukuna's palace, where life seemed to move around you but never through you. The servants kept their distance, wary of your resemblance, as if fearing you might be some ill omen, cursed to echo the tragedy of the past.

And Sukuna… he watched you, always watching, his eyes a deep crimson that saw too much and yet revealed nothing. He was like a storm contained within the fragile walls of the palace, his presence a force of nature that you could neither escape nor fully comprehend. His mood was mercurial; one day, he would barely acknowledge you, and the next, his gaze would linger on you, heavy with something you couldn’t name.

“Do you enjoy the garden?” he asked one afternoon, his tone deceptively casual, as if he were simply inquiring about the weather.

You glanced up, surprised that he had addressed you at all. He rarely spoke directly to you, even when his eyes seemed to follow your every movement. “I do,” you replied, careful, measured. “It is quiet there. Peaceful.”

“Quiet…peaceful.” he repeated, almost as if tasting the word. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, but it did not reach his eyes. “Yes, she liked the quiet too. Always wandering among the flowers. Trees too. She’d like that then.”

You stiffened at the mention of her, the ghost you lived with every day, who lingered in every corner of this place. “I am not her, my lord.” you said, a tremor in your voice. You had repeated these words to yourself countless times, but they sounded fragile, almost insignificant when spoken aloud.

Sukuna's expression did not change. If anything, his gaze grew sharper, like a blade pressed against your skin. “No, little one.” he agreed softly, almost mockingly, “You are not her. But you will do… for now.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, refusing to let him see the fear that coiled within you, like a snake waiting to strike. “Why do you keep me here?” you dared to ask, your voice barely more than a whisper. “Why do you watch me as if you expect me to become someone else?”

He laughed then, a low, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “You misunderstand, little one. I do not expect you to become her. I know you never can. But you… remind me of her. And that is enough… for now.”

The way he said it, the way his eyes darkened with something unreadable, made your blood run cold. You were nothing more than a stand-in, a living, breathing reminder of something he had lost. A cruel joke played by fate, a shadow dancing in the place of the one who truly mattered. To be kept alive, your village kept alive — because you look like a ghost.

“I am not a replacement, my lord.” you insisted, your voice firmer this time, surprising even yourself with the strength behind it. “I hope my lord knows that I will not live my life as a mere echo.”

His smile faded, his expression turning serious. “You think you have a choice?” he asked, leaning in closer, his face so near to yours that you could feel the warmth of his breath. “You are here because I allow it. You exist at my whim, not because of who you are, but because of who you resemble. Do not mistake this for anything more than it is.”

The reality of his words hit you like a blow, the finality of it sinking deep into your bones. You were nothing to him, nothing but a passing fancy, a painful reminder of a past he could not reclaim.

“I am not her, my lord.” you repeated, your voice shaking with defiance, with a spark of something that refused to be extinguished. “And I will not be her for you. You must understand.”

For a moment, something flickered in Sukuna's eyes, something almost like surprise, perhaps even respect. Then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by the cold, unfeeling mask he always wore.

“Brave words, little one.” he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. “But words mean little here, in my domain. You will learn that soon enough.”

He turned away from you then, leaving you standing alone in the empty hall, your heart pounding in your chest, your hands trembling at your sides. The silence closed in around you, heavy and oppressive, and you knew that nothing had changed. You were still trapped, still living in the shadow of a dead woman, still bound to the whims of a god who mourned like a man.

And yet, deep inside, something stirred—a flicker of defiance, of hope. You might be a ghost to him, a reflection of a lost love, but you were still alive. You were still you, and as long as you drew breath, you would not allow yourself to be consumed by his shadows. Not without a fight.

Time passed slowly in Sukuna’s palace, and with it, your heart began to change. You did not notice it at first; how could you? Day after day, the monotonous routine of your existence lulled you into a sort of numbness. The gardens became your refuge, the sky your solace.

Yet even as you tried to find comfort in these simple pleasures, you found your thoughts wandering back to him—Ryomen Sukuna, the fearsome god, the monster, the man who mourned like a human.

At first, you hated him, hated him for what he represented, for what he had made you into: a replacement, a mere shadow of someone who had meant everything to him. But as you watched him, as the days turned to weeks and weeks to months, you began to see more.

You began to notice the things others did not—the subtle tension in his jaw when he was angry, the way his eyes softened just a fraction when he spoke of her, the quiet moments when he thought no one was looking, and the mask slipped, just a little.

You were in the garden one afternoon, trimming the roses, when you heard footsteps approaching. Sukuna rarely came to the garden, but today he seemed restless, pacing along the paths with a dark expression on his face. He stopped by the old cherry blossom tree, his eyes distant, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Without thinking, you moved closer. "Is something troubling you, my lord?" you asked quietly, keeping your tone as neutral as possible. You had learned not to provoke him, to keep your words soft and your gaze steady.

Sukuna looked at you sharply, as if surprised you had dared to speak. "Why do you care?" he snapped, his tone harsh, but you had seen the flicker of something else—a fleeting vulnerability, perhaps? “Such matters are none for you to care about, little one.”

You hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “I see you every day, my lord.” you replied softly. “I see how you… struggle over something. And I cannot help but… care.”

He scoffed, but it was a hollow sound. “Care?” he echoed, almost mockingly. “You think you understand me, mortal? You think you can comprehend the depths of what I am, of what I have lost?”

You bowed your head, feeling the sting of his words but refusing to back down. “I don’t pretend to understand, my lord.” you murmured. “But I see the pain in your eyes, the way you linger in places she once loved, the way you… look at me.”

He was silent for a moment, his gaze unreadable. Then he turned away, his shoulders tense, his hands unclenching. “You are a fool, little one.” he muttered, almost too softly for you to hear. “A fool to think you can feel anything for me.”

And maybe you were a fool. A fool to care for a man who did not care for you, who saw you only as a shadow of someone else. But you could not help it. You could not stop the way your heart ached when you saw him, the way your breath caught when he looked at you with those sad, tired eyes.

Day by day, you found yourself drawn to him, not by his power or his beauty, but by the quiet moments when he thought no one was watching. The moments when his face softened, and you saw the man beneath the monster, the man who had loved so deeply and lost so terribly.

You saw the cracks in his armor, the places where he had been wounded, and you wanted, desperately, to reach out and touch them, to soothe the pain you knew he carried.

You found yourself thinking of him when you were alone, wondering what had made him this way, what had broken him so completely. You imagined him before all of this, before the darkness, before the loss, and you felt a strange, deep sorrow for the man he might have been.

One evening, as you were leaving the garden, you saw him standing by the cherry blossom tree again, his face turned upward, staring at the pale blooms against the darkening sky. He looked so lonely, so unbearably alone, that you felt your heart tighten in your chest.

Without thinking, you approached him, moving slowly, cautiously, as if approaching a wounded animal. “My lord, look.” you said softly, and he did not turn away. “The blossoms… they’re beautiful this year.”

He glanced at you, his expression unreadable. “Hiromi loved them.” he said quietly, his voice thick with something you could not quite name. “Fond of them.”

You nodded, your heart aching for him. “I imagine she did, my lord.” you replied. “They’re… peaceful.”

He was silent for a long time, his gaze fixed on the flowers. Then he spoke, his voice barely more than a whisper. “She was… my peace.” he admitted, his tone so raw, so vulnerable, that it made your chest tighten painfully. “And now… there is only emptiness.”

You wanted to reach out to him, to touch his hand, to tell him that he was not as alone as he thought, but you knew he would not accept it. So you stood there, beside him, sharing the silence, hoping that maybe, in some small way, your presence could ease the ache in his heart.

And slowly, painfully, you realized that you were falling into the saddest position in the world. You were beginning to care for him, truly care for him, despite knowing that he did not, and could not, care for you. You were beginning to understand him, to see the depths of his sorrow, to feel the weight of his loss as if it were your own.

You were living as a shadow, and yet… you found yourself wishing, hoping, that someday he might see you as something more. Even if you were just a reflection of a memory, even if you could never be her, you wished, desperately, that you could become someone to him.

But as you looked at him, at the emptiness in his eyes, you knew that day might never come. And still, you could not help but care.

Days continued to slip by in a blur of silent moments and stolen glances, and though you tried to keep your heart guarded, you felt it slipping further and further away from you, like water through your fingers. You had resigned yourself to your fate—a concubine in name, a ghost in truth. You had accepted that Sukuna would never see you as anything more than a mere echo of what he had lost.

But as time passed, you noticed a subtle change in him. It was in the way his gaze lingered on you a moment longer, or how his tone softened when he spoke to you. It was in the quiet moments when you would catch him watching you, his expression inscrutable, as if he were trying to decipher some mystery he could not quite solve.

As the sun dipped below the horizon and painted the sky in shades of crimson and gold, you found yourself in the garden again. Sukuna was there, seated on a low stone bench beneath the cherry blossom tree, his face turned upward as if searching for something in the dying light.

You approached cautiously, unsure if he wanted your presence or not. He did not turn to look at you, but he did not send you away, either. You took it as a small mercy, a silent invitation to sit beside him.

For a long time, neither of you spoke. The silence stretched between you like a fragile thread, delicate and unbroken. Finally, Sukuna spoke, his voice low and contemplative. “You are always here, little one.” he murmured. “Always watching. Why?”

You hesitated, searching for the right words. “Because I see you, my lord.” you replied quietly. “I see the way you carry your pain, the way you hide it behind your eyes. I… I understand it, in a way.”

He turned to you then, his gaze piercing, searching your face as if trying to find the truth hidden within your words. “And what do you think you understand?” he asked, a note of challenge in his tone.

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his stare. “I think you loved her more than life itself, my lord.” you said softly. “And I think losing her broke something inside of you that will never heal.”

He was silent for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he laughed—a harsh, bitter sound that cut through the stillness like a knife. “You presume to know my heart, mortal.” he said, but there was no true malice in his voice, only a deep, hollow emptiness. “You think because you look like her, you can speak of love and loss?”

“I do not pretend to be her, my lord.” you answered, your voice steady, even as your heart pounded in your chest. “But I know what it is to lose, to live with emptiness. I know what it means to be alone, even in a crowded room.”

His eyes softened, just for a moment, and you could almost see the man beneath the monster, the one who had loved and lost, who had once been capable of kindness, of tenderness.

“You think you know loneliness?” he asked, his voice quiet, almost vulnerable. “You think you know what it is to love someone so deeply that their absence is like a knife in your soul, cutting you with every breath?”

“I think I’m starting to understand, my lord.” you whispered. “More than I ever wanted to.”

He looked away, his jaw clenched tight, and you could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands curled into fists at his sides. “You are a fool.” he muttered, but there was no heat in his words, only a weary resignation. “You should hate me. You should despise me for what I am, for what I have made you.”

You shook your head slowly. “I can’t, my lord.” you admitted, your voice breaking. “I don’t know why, but I can’t. Maybe it’s because I see the pain in your eyes, the way you look at me… the way you remember her. I can’t hate you for that. I just… I wish things were different.”

He turned to you sharply, and for a moment, there was something raw and desperate in his gaze, something that spoke of a longing he had buried deep within himself. “Different?” he repeated, almost scoffing. “There is no ‘different’ for us. This is the world we have been given, and we must live in it.”

You felt your heart clench painfully, knowing he was right, knowing that no matter how much you wished for it, you could never truly reach him, could never become more than what you were—a shadow, a reflection of a woman long gone.

But you could not stop yourself from caring, from hoping that somehow, someway, he might see you, truly see you, not as a ghost or a replacement, but as a person in your own right.

You sighed, turning your gaze to the blossoms above. “I know, my lord.” you murmured. “I know that better than anyone. But I still… I still want to understand you. I still care, even if you don’t care for me.”

He was silent, his expression unreadable, and for a moment, you feared you had said too much, crossed a line you could never return from. But then, slowly, he reached out and took your hand in his, his grip firm but surprisingly gentle.

“You are a strange one, little one.” he said quietly, almost as if to himself. “To care for a monster… to care for a man who has nothing left to give.”

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, and you did not bother to hide it. “Maybe I’m just a fool, my lord” you whispered. “But I can’t help it. I can’t help but care for you, even when I know you can’t care for me.”

He stared at you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours, as if looking for some answer he could not find. Then, without a word, he pulled you closer, his lips brushing against your forehead in a gesture so tender it took your breath away.

“Do not mistake this for affection.” he warned, his voice low and rough. “I am still who I am. I am still the monster you should fear.”

But you could only nod, your heart aching with a mixture of sorrow and hope. “I know,” you whispered. “I know, but I’m still here.”

And for the first time, you thought you saw a hint of softness in his eyes, a flicker of something that could almost be… understanding. Maybe, just maybe, you were starting to reach him, one fragile step at a time.

══════════════════

TIME FLEW BY AND WITH THAT, YOU AGED TOO. Slowly, like the steady drip of water carving its path through stone, Ryomen Sukuna began to accept your presence as something constant in his life. At first, it was subtle—the way he no longer sent you away when you appeared by his side, the way he allowed you to linger in his chambers or the garden without a word of complaint.

Over time, it grew into something more. He began to call for you, not often, but enough that you noticed. Sometimes, it was just to sit in silence while he read or stared into the fire, and other times, he would speak to you, his voice low and distant, as if he were speaking to himself rather than you.

He did not love you; you knew that much with painful certainty. His heart belonged to another, to a woman whose name he whispered in his dreams, whose memory seemed to haunt his every step. You were not her, and you never would be. You were a shadow of what he had lost, a pale reflection of a love that had burned too bright and consumed itself in the flames.

But he tolerated you, and in this dark, twisted place where fear ruled and love was a forgotten dream, that was enough. You had learned to find solace in the little things—the way his gaze would occasionally soften when he looked at you, the rare moments when his voice held a note of something other than indifference.

You knew you would never escape Hiromi’s shadow. Her ghost lingered in every corner of this place, in every whispered word and hushed breath, in the way his eyes darkened whenever he spoke of her.

You were not foolish enough to think you could ever replace her in his heart, nor did you wish to. You had come to terms with your fate, with the cruel twist of destiny that had brought you here, to this palace where the walls seemed to whisper her name.

For the finite years of your mortal life, you would be what you were to him—an echo, a shadow, a living memory of something lost. You could have fought against it, could have railed against the injustice of it all, but you chose not to. You chose to make peace with what fate had given you, to find what small joys you could in the fleeting moments he allowed you to be near him.

There were times when the weight of your existence threatened to crush you, when you longed to scream, to demand that he see you for who you were, not for the woman you resembled. But those moments were few and far between, and you had learned to push them down, to bury them deep within your heart where they could not hurt you.

Instead, you found contentment in the little things—in the way his presence filled the room, in the rare, unguarded moments when he would speak to you of things he had buried deep within himself. You listened to his stories, the ones he told in quiet tones when he thought no one was listening, and you treasured them like precious gems, tiny fragments of the man he had once been.

You learned to be grateful for what you had, even if it was not what you had dreamed of. You accepted that you would always live in the shadow of Hiromi, that you would always be the "other woman"; the one who was not loved, but merely tolerated. And for as long as you had breath in your lungs and life in your veins, you chose to find peace in that.

You sat beside him by the fire, you felt a strange sense of calm settle over you. He was quiet, his eyes fixed on the flames, his expression thoughtful. He did not look at you, but you could feel his presence, warm and solid beside you, a reminder that you were not entirely alone in this world.

You turned your gaze to the fire, letting the heat warm your face, and you whispered, almost to yourself, “I do not ask for more than this. I am… content with what I have.”

He glanced at you, his eyes narrowing slightly, as if trying to understand your words. “Content?” he repeated, a hint of incredulity in his voice. “You are content being nothing but a shadow?”

You smiled softly, a hint of sadness in your eyes. “Contentment is a choice, my lord.” you replied. “I chose to be content with what fate has given me. It is not happiness, but it is enough.”

He looked at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable, and then he nodded slowly. “Perhaps you are wiser than I thought now, little one.” he murmured. “To find peace in a place like this… it is no easy feat.”

You nodded, knowing he spoke more to himself than to you. You had accepted that you would never be more than a shadow in his life, but even shadows had their place, their purpose. You would be content with that, for as long as your mortal years allowed.

The days passed with a creeping heaviness that settled into your bones, a fatigue that no amount of rest could cure. You began to feel the strain in every step, the way your breath came shorter, the way your limbs feel heavy and uncooperative. At first, you dismissed it as exhaustion, a lingering effect of sleepless nights and endless thoughts that twisted in your mind like shadows.

But then came the coughing fits, each one more violent than the last, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth and a sharp pain in your chest. You ignored it at first, waving away the concerned glances of the servants who attended you. You kept your back straight and your face serene, refusing to acknowledge the way your body seemed to betray you.

Yet it grew harder to hide. The pain became more frequent, stabbing through your lungs like a knife with every breath, every step. The first time you coughed up blood, it was a shock—a bright, vivid red staining your hand. Your heart raced as you stared at the crimson stain, panic rising like bile in your throat.

You quickly wiped it away, glancing around to see if anyone had noticed. Thankfully, you were alone in your chamber, and you pressed a trembling hand to your chest, willing yourself to calm down. There was no reason to be afraid, you told yourself. It was just a momentary lapse, nothing more.

But it wasn’t. It happened again, and again. You found yourself waking in the night, gasping for air, your throat raw and burning. The servants began to notice the dark circles under your eyes, the way you would clutch your side when you thought no one was looking, the way you moved a little slower, a little more carefully.

There was a day that you sat in the garden, trying to find solace in the soft petals of the cherry blossoms, a violent fit seized you. You doubled over, coughing hard, and felt something wet and warm splatter against your lips. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and saw the unmistakable smear of blood.

A sharp gasp came from behind you. One of the younger servants had seen, her eyes wide with fear and concern. She rushed to your side, her hands trembling as she reached out to steady you.

“My lady, oh my!” she whispered, her voice filled with worry. “You’re… you’re bleeding.”

You shook your head, forcing a smile that felt like a grimace. “It is nothing.” you said, your voice hoarse. “Do not worry yourself over me.”

The servant looked unconvinced, her brow furrowed with concern. “I must tell Lord Sukuna.” she said quickly, glancing toward the entrance of the garden as if she expected him to appear at any moment. “He must know—”

“No, no…..” you cut her off sharply, your voice firmer than you had intended. “There is no point in that.”

She hesitated, confusion clouding her eyes. “But, my lady… you are unwell. He should—”

“He would not care, little girl.” you said softly, looking down at your blood-stained hand. “There is no use in troubling him with this. It would make no difference. Sukuna does not love me, nor does he care for me in that way. Do you think he would be moved by something as trivial as this?”

The servant bit her lip, clearly torn between her duty to you and her fear of Sukuna’s wrath. “But… if he knew, he might—”

“Might what?” you interrupted, your voice edged with a quiet resignation. “Send a healer? Take pity on me? No, he would not. I am nothing more than a reminder to him, a shadow of a past he cannot let go. He tolerates me, yes, but that is all.”

The servant looked at you, her eyes filling with tears, but she nodded slowly, understanding the weight of your words. She knew as well as you did that Sukuna’s heart was a barren, desolate place, filled with ghosts and haunted memories. There was no room for you there.

“Promise me, little girl.” you whispered, reaching out to touch her arm gently. “Promise me you won’t tell him.”

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded, her expression tight with worry. “I promise, my lady.” she murmured, though you could hear the doubt in her voice.

You leaned back against the tree, closing your eyes and letting the cool breeze brush against your skin. You knew there was no point in hoping for more than what you had. Sukuna had given you a place by his side, but it was not out of affection. He had lost the woman he truly loved, and you were only a semblance of her—a shadow he tolerated, nothing more.

You were dying, that much was clear. Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise, a way to free yourself from this liminal existence, to escape the torment of being a living reminder of what he had lost. You could find peace in that, you thought. At least, you could try.

You would not burden him with your illness, with your slow, inevitable decline. You would carry it quietly, with dignity, for whatever time you had left. After all, what was one more life in the grand, cruel scheme of his world? You were just another fleeting moment in the endless march of time—another sacrifice, another offering to a man who had already lost everything he had ever cared for.

══════════════════

YOU DECIDED TO LET FATE RUN ITS COURSE. You let time pass by, letting the illness be hidden in the shadows of low whispers and painful tears in your long suffering days and nights. And sure enough, Ryomen Sukuna had returned from his long and exhausting trip within the next few days.

He had been famished from his trip and sent word that he would be having supper with you that night, which you had obliged without another word. You dressed in your finest, watching the servants prepare the table in your chambers and calmly thanked them one after another as they left.

The evening had settled into its usual quiet rhythm, with the two of you sharing dinner in the dimly lit chamber. The flickering candlelight cast long shadows across the walls, and the scent of roasted meat and simmered vegetables filled the air.

It was a routine you had come to accept with a resigned sort of familiarity, a ritual that offered a small measure of normalcy in your otherwise constrained existence.

You sat across from Sukuna, picking at your meal with an absent-mindedness that spoke more to your weariness than any lack of appetite. His presence was imposing, yet tonight, he was unusually subdued, his attention focused on the food in front of him rather than on you. And somehow, you were a bit more grateful for it.

As you took a sip from your cup, you looked up at him, your expression earnest. "My lord, do you not think you should be more understanding of your subjects?" you began, your voice gentle but firm. "I must implore you once more to be more lenient with the people. The fear you instill is one thing, but mercy could win you their loyalty and respect."

Sukuna's eyes, dark and inscrutable, met yours. He did not respond immediately, his gaze lingering on you as if weighing your words. This was not the first time you had made this plea, and it was not likely to be the last. You had grown accustomed to his silence, to the way he would listen but rarely act upon your suggestions.

"It is not for me to coddle them, little one." he said finally, his voice low and dismissive. "Fear is a more effective tool than mercy. It ensures obedience."

You sighed softly, knowing well that your words often fell on deaf ears. Still, you persisted, driven by a conviction that even the smallest act of kindness could make a difference. "I understand your perspective, my lord, but sometimes even the harshest rulers find strength in showing compassion. It can—"

Before you could finish your thought, a sudden, sharp pain gripped your chest. You gasped, doubling over slightly, and a violent coughing fit overtook you. You struggled to steady yourself, but the force of it was too strong. Blood splattered onto the table, the vibrant red stark against the white of your kimono and the pale wood of the dining surface.

Your heart raced as you quickly wiped the blood away with your sleeve, hoping to hide the evidence of your distress. You tried to maintain your composure, but your hands were trembling as you looked up at Sukuna, who had gone still, his eyes fixed on the crimson stain.

For a moment, there was a silence so thick it felt like a physical presence. Ryomen Sukuna’s gaze was heavy and unyielding, his red eyes locked onto the blood that had marred the table and your attire. You could feel the weight of his scrutiny, his silence, a heavy burden that pressed down upon you.

"It's nothing, my lord." you said hurriedly, forcing a weak smile as you tried to brush off the incident. "Just a momentary lapse. Please, continue with your meal."

Sukuna’s expression was unreadable, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied you. He did not speak, but there was a flicker of something in his gaze—perhaps surprise, or concern, or something deeper that he quickly masked.

You could feel the tension between you, an invisible thread connecting your quiet plea to his unspoken thoughts. It was clear that your condition had not gone unnoticed, even if he chose not to acknowledge it openly. You had always been a presence in his life, but tonight, the reality of your fragility seemed to cut through the usual indifference.

He took a deep breath, his gaze finally shifting away from you as he turned his attention back to his meal. The silence that followed was filled with the soft clinking of utensils and the low murmur of conversation from the servants who hovered at the edges of the room, their eyes darting to you with barely concealed concern.

You ate in silence, each bite of food tasting like ash in your mouth. The pain in your chest had subsided, but a deep weariness remained, a lingering reminder of your deteriorating health. You glanced at Sukuna from time to time, but he was absorbed in his meal, his expression unreadable.

The conversation you had tried to initiate was now buried beneath the weight of your illness, and you knew better than to press further. The battle for his leniency would have to wait for another day, another time when you were not so overshadowed by your own suffering.

As the meal drew to a close, you felt the oppressive silence settle around you once more. Sukuna’s gaze was distant, his thoughts seemingly occupied with matters beyond the confines of the dining room. You could only hope that, in some small way, your presence had made a difference, even if it was not the kind you had hoped for.

When the servants cleared away the dishes and the room began to empty, you excused yourself, retreating to your chamber with a heavy heart. You knew that your time here was growing shorter, that the end was approaching with each passing day. But for now, you would carry on, finding what small measure of peace you could in the fleeting moments you had left.

And as you lay down in your bed, staring up at the ceiling, you could not help but think of the blood you had tried to hide, of the way Sukuna’s eyes had lingered on it. You could only hope that someday, he might see you not as a mere shadow or a reminder of what he had lost, but as a person who had tried, in her own way, to make a difference in his world.

The next morning, you awoke to a disorienting cacophony of shouts and harsh reprimands. The once-familiar silence of your quarters was shattered by the sounds of chaos from the courtyard. Your heart sank as you stumbled out of bed, a sharp pain reminding you of the night before.

As you made your way through the hallways, the noise grew louder, mingling with the harsh, angry tones of Ryomen Sukuna’s voice. Your mind raced, dreading what you might find. You knew it already. You have seen it in the other households of the other concubines. And you can only know what had caused such a commotion. When you reached the courtyard, the scene before you was both startling and terrifying.

Your servants were gathered in the center of the courtyard, their faces pale with fear and their postures crumpled under the weight of Sukuna’s wrath. He stood at the center of the commotion, his expression thunderous as he raged at them. His anger was palpable, his words a relentless storm of fury directed at those who had failed to inform him of your condition.

Your breath caught in your throat, and without thinking, you stepped forward, your heart pounding in your chest. The courtyard fell into a stunned silence as Sukuna’s gaze shifted to you, his eyes dark with a mixture of surprise and irritation.

"My lord, please." you began, your voice trembling as you bowed deeply, your forehead nearly touching the ground. "This is my fault, not theirs. I beg for your forgiveness and mercy for my servants."

Sukuna’s eyes narrowed as he took in your contrite posture, his anger momentarily faltering. He regarded you with a mixture of disbelief and curiosity, his dark, unforgiving, gaze sharp as he assessed your sincerity.

"It was my decision to hide my illness, my lord." you continued, your voice barely more than a whisper. "I did not want to trouble you or cause unnecessary concern. Please, spare them your anger. They were only following my wishes."

Ryomen Sukuna remained silent for a moment, his anger still simmering beneath the surface. The servants, though still shaken, dared to lift their eyes to you, their expressions a blend of relief and apprehension.

Finally, Sukuna's gaze softened, a hint of resignation creeping into his expression. He took a deep breath, his anger dissipating as he looked at you with a new intensity. "You would take the blame for them?" he asked, his voice low and edged with incredulity.

You nodded, maintaining your bowed position. "Yes, my lord. It was my choice, my responsibility. I could not bear the thought of them being punished for my actions."

Sukuna’s expression hardened slightly, but the fury in his eyes had dimmed. After a moment of consideration, he gave a curt nod. "Very well. You will accept any punishment I shall put upon you.”

You swallowed the bile down your throat. “Yes, my lord.”

“Then I will call for healers. You will see them immediately." He says, as though it was the final verdict. “You will see them, all of them. Do you understand?”

“Yes…yes, my lord.” You whispered back to him.

He turned away from the servants, his gaze now fixed on you with an inscrutable intensity. "Go." he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument. "See to your health, you foolish girl. Your servants too can go. They will tend to you, no matter what you ask.”

You straightened slowly, a mixture of relief and trepidation washing over you. You dared to look up at Sukuna, meeting his eyes briefly before turning to address the servants.

"Thank you, my lord." you said quietly, your voice filled with gratitude. "You have done nothing wrong. Please, return to your duties."

With a final, respectful bow, you turned and headed back toward your quarters with the help of your servants. As you entered your quarters, you felt like you had lived a thousand lifetimes in that one moment. Your servants were bowing at your feet, asking for your forgiveness. But you had all but shooed them away, telling them it was your duty as their master.

You wanted to be alone right now. At least when you still had the chance. When the healers arrive, you would have a life to yourself any longer. You would be stuck in their mercy, with their potions and their whims.

You must prepare yourself for the arrival of the healers. You groaned lowly as you clutch your chest, a wave of pain hitting one after the other. It will be over soon, that’s what you hoped. That’s what you want. You want to be free from this pain. You wanted nothing more than to be free.

══════════════════

THE PAIN WAS RELENTLESS. The days dragged on in a relentless cycle of pain and futile hope. Despite the best efforts of countless healers, none seemed able to bring you any real relief.

If anything, your condition worsened, each new treatment only seeming to accelerate your quick decline. Ryomen Sukuna’s frustration was palpable; his anger had become a regular presence, casting a long shadow over the already bleak atmosphere of the estate.

You had heard the whispers of the fate that befell each healer who failed to improve your condition. It was a grim reminder of Sukuna’s volatility, a dangerous mix of desperation and rage. The once-bustling quarters were now filled with an air of fearful tension as new healers arrived, only to face Sukuna’s wrath when their efforts proved ineffectual.

On one of the rare days when you felt well enough to leave your bed, you chose to sit by the garden. The fresh air and the sight of the vibrant blooms were a welcome distraction from the constant ache in your body. You had managed to position yourself on a stool under the gentle shade of a cherry tree, finding some small comfort in watching the birds flit about, their cheerful chirping a stark contrast to the turmoil that had become your life.

Sukuna appeared in the garden, his presence as imposing as ever. He walked with a deliberate pace, his gaze scanning the surroundings with an air of detached observation. As he neared, you looked up and greeted him with a smile, though the effort felt heavy, as if each movement was a strain against the burden of your illness.

“My lord.” you said softly, your voice barely more than a whisper. “The skies are beautiful today, aren’t they?”

Sukuna stopped, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in your serene expression. The silence stretched between you, an unspoken tension that lingered like the heat of a summer day. He said nothing in response, his gaze fixed on you with an inscrutable intensity.

After a moment, he broke the silence. “How is it that you can accept death with such… calm?” His voice was low, edged with curiosity and something else you couldn’t quite place.

You blinked, taken aback by his question. A laugh escaped you, soft and brittle, more out of surprise than genuine amusement. “Accept death, my lord?” you repeated. “I haven’t accepted death, in truth. But there is no way to avoid it.”

Sukuna’s eyes remained on you, his expression unreadable as he listened. You continued, your voice tinged with a philosophical resignation. “Death will come for all of us, eventually. It’s a natural end to this life. We all must face it in our own time. In that way, we are all freed from the burdens of this world.”

He studied you with a mixture of skepticism and something akin to contemplation. “You speak as if it is an inevitability you embrace, little one.”

“Not embrace, my lord.” you corrected gently, sighing. “But acknowledge. It’s a part of life, as much as the beginning is. We can fight it or we can accept it, but it will come regardless.”

Sukuna’s gaze softened slightly, though his expression remained stoic. He seemed to be weighing your words, his usual fierceness replaced by an unusual quiet. “And you are not afraid, then?”

“Fear?” You tilted your head, considering the question. “I suppose I am afraid of the pain that might come before the end. But fear of death itself? Not so much. It’s merely another step in the journey, my lord. That is what I believe, at least.”

For a moment, there was a stillness between you, punctuated only by the distant chirping of birds. Sukuna’s eyes flickered to the sky, perhaps contemplating the vastness of existence you had spoken of. The anger that had once seemed so consuming in his presence now appeared subdued, replaced by a contemplative silence.

“I see.” he said finally, his tone carrying a trace of grudging respect. “Your words are… unusual.”

You smiled faintly, a tired but genuine expression. “Perhaps. But sometimes, facing the truth can be a way to find peace, my lord.”

Sukuna stood there for a while longer, his presence a dark silhouette against the backdrop of the garden’s tranquility. Finally, he gave a curt nod and turned to leave, his demeanor less harsh than before. The sound of his footsteps gradually faded as he walked away, leaving you alone once more with your thoughts and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze.

As you sat there, watching the birds and the shifting clouds, you felt a small measure of contentment. Sukuna’s visit had brought a moment of introspection, a reminder of the fragile balance between life and death. Even in your suffering, you found a semblance of peace, understanding that acceptance was not about surrendering to fate but about finding a way to live with it, even as the end loomed ever closer.

And just like that, the day you had dreaded finally arrived. And truly, you were left feeling an unbearable weakness that signaled the end was near. The once-familiar confines of your quarters now seemed like a distant world, and the pain of your illness was a constant, gnawing presence. Each breath was a struggle, each moment of consciousness a battle against the encroaching darkness.

To your surprise, your lord Sukuna appeared by your side as you lay on your bed, his imposing figure contrasting sharply with the fragility of your own condition. He had not been a part of your daily existence in the past weeks, his visits sporadic and his presence usually marked by anger and frustration. But now, he was here, seated beside you in a rare display of stillness.

You looked at him through the haze of pain and weakness, your voice a mere whisper. “My lord, it seems this is my time to part from you.”

Sukuna’s eyes were steady, his gaze betraying an emotion you could not fully decipher. “I know, little one.” he replied simply, his voice holding a note of finality.

A pained laugh escaped your lips, the sound mingling with a shuddering breath. “I only wish… I could avoid being reborn into such misery again. To be the other woman, to be nothing to you.”

Sukuna’s silence stretched between you, a weighty pause that seemed to deepen the divide between you. After a moment, he spoke, his voice low but firm. “You were something.”

You shook your head, the effort to move even slightly causing a fresh wave of agony. “You lie easily, as you breathe, my lord.” you said with a faint, sorrowful smile.

The silence that followed was heavy and palpable, filled with the unspoken complexities of your relationship. As you lay there, the end drawing closer with each passing moment, you found a strange clarity in the finality of your situation.

“I love you, my lord.” you said softly, the words carrying a weight that transcended the physical pain. “As sad as it is, I do. But I have no intention of having it returned. I hope that, in the next life, I never meet you again.”

Sukuna’s expression remained impassive, but there was a softness in his gaze that belied his usual stoic demeanor. As you took your final, labored breaths, his sigh was a mix of resignation and something deeper, something that spoke to the complexity of your intertwined fates.

“I hope so too, little one.” he said quietly, his voice carrying a rare touch of vulnerability.

With those words hanging in the air, you felt a sense of release, the weight of your suffering beginning to lift. As your consciousness faded and the pain finally ebbed away, you left behind the world that had been both your prison and your refuge. Ryomen Sukuna looked at your lifeless body, pursing his lips into a flat line.

“Live on in a better life, little one.” He whispered, his fingers brushing against your hair. “May you be loved by someone who loves you. May we never meet again, my other woman."

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whateveriwant · 3 months

Text

I know it's a little late but this Father's Day, I'm thinking about childhood best friend Simon who's secretly in love with you.

You've known Simon since forever – long before the emergence of “Ghost”, his enlistment in the military, or, hell, even before his voice dropped three octaves. To you, Simon Riley was your best friend, the one person in life you could always count on to be there for you. And to Simon, the feeling was mutual, but his feelings towards you also extended well beyond that sentiment, far surpassing what you ever realized.

From an early age, Simon knew you were the love of his life, but he could never bring himself to admit that to you. He was always too shy, too self-conscious, too scared to fuck up everything you two had if he told you the truth. So instead, he kept his love for you a secret, and just focused on being the best friend any girl could ask for.

For a while, it was nice simply being your friend, and Simon played the part with ease. But once you entered the dating scene, everything seemed to change. Now, not only did Simon have to hide his feelings for you, he was forced to sit back and watch as you gave your love to another. Though it tore him up inside to witness, Simon still chose to stick by you anyway. He was your friend first and foremost, and so your friend he'd continue to be.

Through every new relationship, every whirlwind romance, and every eventual heartbreak you endured, Simon was always right there beside you, lending himself over in whatever manner you needed. Even as one came along that you swore was different from the others, Simon was skeptical, but he supported you regardless. And now, nearly five years into your marriage, he supposes you were right after all.

So color Simon surprised when you wind up beside him on his couch one night, crying your eyes out, trying to drown your sorrows in the bottom of a bottle. You explain how, for almost a year, you and your husband have been trying for a baby, to no success. You've done everything; ovulation tracking, fertility tests, a revolving door of doctors to try finding out what the issue is. By all accounts, there doesn't appear to be any physical concerns preventing you from conceiving. As for your husband, well, he hasn't been as diligent in determining his role in this.

You're now at a point in your life where you feel like time is working against you. You want nothing more than to have a baby of your own, and if you and your husband aren't capable of doing that, you're not sure what there is that's left for you.

As you sob into the crook of Simon's neck, he finds his neurons begin firing at an alarming rate. Quicker than he'd like, an idea takes root in his mind, and though it's bad – fucking heinous is what it is – it burrows itself into his grey matter until it's all he can focus on. While he hates himself for thinking of it (hates himself more for the way his stomach flips at the thought), there's nothing that hurts him more right now than having you in his arms so utterly distraught.

So before he can convince himself of another idea, Simon raises your head from his shoulder and tenderly cups your face between his palms. When he leans in to kiss you, a moment he's dreamed about for years, he's not surprised as you startle against him. But he holds steady, melding his lips to yours, until he feels you gradually melt into it. As he hushes the voices in his head, he plucks up his last bit of courage, and finds no resistance as he slowly guides you onto your back.

It's alright, sweetheart. He's here for you. He's going to help you out.

He'll give you the baby you so desperately desire, because that's what best friends are for, right?

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #simon riley x you #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod mw2 #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #female reader

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seungkw1 · 4 months

Text

make me — ksy

♡ pairing: kwon soonyoung x afab!reader ♡ theme: smut [18+ mdni], humor ♡ wc: 1.8k ♡ warnings: alcohol consumption, oral (m. receiving, f. receiving implied), handjob, hoshi is obsessed w boobs, hoshi is a simp, i ramble on about star wars for a bit at the beginning ♡ a/n: might have to do a pt. 2 to this one so lmk if anyone is interested in that 👀

“No it’s not.”

“Yes, it is!!”

“Soonyoung. Be so fucking for real right now.”

Your roommate doesn’t usually drink, and you’re starting to see why. Two Jack & Cokes and he’s fucking gone already.

“I’m telling you y/n, The Rise of Skywalker is so fucking good. You should stop being a haterrrr,” he says, inches away from your face as he leans over to you, nearly pushing you off the couch. You’ve never been this physically close to him, though you’ve certainly thought about it (more than once). Your heart flutters from the proximity of his lips to yours, but you have more important matters at hand right now.

“I didn’t say I hated it, it’s just not that good compared to all the other Star Wars movies!”

He picks up his drink again. You stop him before he can take a sip, handing him a glass of water instead.

“Well how would I know? I haven’t seen the other movies.”

“WHAT?!”

He takes a big gulp of the water. “I’ve only seen the new ones,” he admits with a shrug.

“Oh my god,” you mumble, resting your forehead against your palm in exasperation. You grab the remainder of his beverage and drink it all in one go.

This argument isn’t that serious of course - you just need to calm your nerves a bit, considering Soonyoung has now placed your hand on your thigh as he blabbers on.

“Besides, seeing Kylo Ren and Rey finally kiss was great. I cheered.”

“You’re a fucking REYLO SHIPPER??”

“A what?” He blinks at you with heavy eyelids. “I don’t speak that language.”

“Kylo Ren and Rey made a terrible couple, it’s literally toxic. The plot between them should’ve never been a romance.”

“But I like romance!” he practically shouts in your face. You’ve always enjoyed bantering with Soonyoung for fun, but the alcohol in both of your systems is definitely upping the ante. You’ve seen him act ridiculous plenty of times before, but he’s on another level today.

“It’s fucking Star Wars, it doesn’t need romance!!” you shout back.

“Well I think it does!” he states indignantly.

“What do you know?? You haven’t seen the other movies!!”

“So I can’t have an opinion??”

“NO??”

“Why are you being so mean to meeeee,” Soonyoung whines, making big sad puppy dog eyes at you. “I’ve never done anything wrong in my life.”

“You’re literally insane. Get off of me!” you shout as he leans over onto you, practically clinging onto you in his drunken stupor.

He ignores you, getting even more up in your face. “You’re just mad because I have better taste in movies than you.”

“Will you just shut the FUCK UP???”

“MAKE ME!”

You pause, staring at him for a few moments too long. He stares back at you, confusion spreading across his face. Then-

You kiss him.

Your lips press softly against his for only a few moments. You pull back, looking at your roommate eye to eye, watching his inebriated brain trying to process what just happened. As if a lightbulb goes off above his head, it suddenly clicks. He swallows nervously.

“What was that for?” he hesitantly asks, barely more than a whisper.

“I…” you start, but quite honestly you don’t know where that came from. Sure, you’ve found Soonyoung attractive since the day you met him - and sure, living with him has led to a few domestic fantasies here and there. But you are friends, nothing more - your boundaries are unspoken, but clearly established.

Or so you thought.

Soonyoung’s dark eyes stare into yours. Panic alarms are going off in your head. You fucked up you fucked up you fucked up oh god you fucked up big time…

“I’m so sorr-”

You don’t get to finish that sentence. Soonyoung’s mouth aligns with yours, kissing you hungrily, his hands grasping onto your arms. Shock reverberates through your body as he makes out with you, his hands sliding to your back, pulling your body close against his as his tongue pokes at your lips, requesting entrance. You let him in. He squeezes you even tighter against him as he kisses you like his life depends on it.

After what felt like about a thousand years, you break apart, barely - his lips hovering mere inches in front of yours. The look he gives you is one you’ve never seen him make before - he gazes at you like you’re the most delicious thing he’s ever seen, and he wants to devour you.

You try to speak, but nothing comes out. You’re simply dumbstruck.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” he mutters as his hands drop to your hips, still holding onto you for dear life.

“You… like me?”

You silently curse yourself at how dumb you sound. Asking him if he likes you, as if you were in fucking middle school.

“Yeah,” he replies emphatically. “I really really really like you.”

Your head spins, the intoxication doing nothing to help you process this information.

“Um… since when?”

Soonyoung is still drunk as hell, but he speaks clear as day.

“Short answer, since we moved in together.”

You wait for him to elaborate. He doesn’t.

“And the long answer?”

He shifts awkwardly, doing a very poor job of trying to hide his boner.

“Middle of July. It was hot as balls. I woke up that morning to you making pancakes. You were wearing a light blue tank top with nothing underneath, and-” he trails off. You raise an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to go on.

“And my god, your boobs looked perfect. The pancakes smelled good, but all I wanted was your tits in my mouth.”

His hand delicately trails up to your breasts, where he is currently staring, taking one of them and squeezing it. He lets out a soft groan as he does.

“Fuck, even better than I imagined.”

“Is that why you took so long to come out for breakfast that day?” you say as your fingertips glide over his thigh, moving toward the very obvious bulge that has formed in his pants. You grab his cock through the fabric. He practically yelps as you begin to caress it slowly.

“Y-yeah,” he answers, his voice going up an octave, practically melting under your touch.

“So you’re saying that you went and jerked off while you thought of my tits.”

“Um,” he tenses up nervously, realizing what he’s just admitted to.

Before he can say anything else, you take your shirt off, leaving you in just your bra. If his eyes could physically pop out of his head on a pair of springs, they’d be doing just that right now.

You unclasp the hook, removing the undergarment and tossing it aside. He gawks at you - his cock twitches under your palm. You begin to stroke his length, but he immediately grabs your hand to stop you.

“I’ll cum in my pants if you keep doing that.” He’s still staring at your chest.

“Where would you rather cum?”

“I- what?” He looks up at you, his eyes darting between your mouth and your eyes, then back to your boobs, then back to your mouth.

“Okay then,” you say as you slide off the couch.

“What’re you-” he asks, but freezes as you position yourself between his legs. His body tenses as you undo his belt, quickly unfastening the button and yanking the zipper down. The rock hard bulge protrudes through the fabric of his underwear, begging to escape. You pull the band down, freeing his already-leaking cock. You take the length in your hands, giving it a few slow strokes. He sinks into the couch with a loud groan.

“Oh my god,” he mumbles, your touch sending him to another planet.

With a swirl of your tongue you lap up the precum dripping from his tip, causing him to let out the biggest whine. You wrap your lips around the head, slowly taking his length into your mouth.

“Fuckkkkkkk, y/n…”

He lets out a gasp as you swallow him to his base. He places one hand softly upon your head as you begin to move your mouth up and down his cock. Within seconds he is a moaning, blubbering mess.

“Feels so good baby, oh god don’t stop. You’re so fucking hot oh my god… fuckkkk…”

You increase your pace. Between moans he continues praising you, whining and whimpering, begging you for more. The man simply cannot shut up about how good you’re sucking him off.

And it’s making you so incredibly wet right now.

You want to touch yourself so badly, but your priority is pleasuring Soonyoung. And judging by the way he is wriggling under you, bucking his hips and fucking his cock into your throat, unintelligibly babbling as he moans your name - you’re doing a pretty damn good job.

“Oh fuck,” he cries out. “Fuck, y/n, gonna cum…”

The words are barely out of his mouth before hot white ropes are hitting the back of your throat. He grips onto your hair as he cums, cock pulsating in your mouth as he rides out his high. As he comes down, he collapses into the sofa - you slowly pull your mouth off of him, making a show of swallowing all of his cum.

“Jesus fucking Christ, y/n…”

You climb back up onto the couch. He immediately leans in and starts kissing you.

“Thank you,” he murmurs between kisses.

“Are you seriously thanking me for sucking your dick?”

He shrugs as he wraps his arms around your waist. “You just gave me the best head of my life, least I can do is say thanks.”

“Actually,” he corrects himself right away, “I take that back. If you’ll let me, can I… may I please eat you out?”

You burst out laughing. He looks at you, puzzled.

“Sorry, if you don’t want-”

“No no no,” you tell him, still laughing. “It’s not that, I’ve just never had anybody ask me so politely like that before.”

His face lights up, hopeful. “So can I?” he pleads enthusiastically. “Pleaseeeeeeee? Please please please?”

You lean your head into his shoulder, giggling like an idiot.

“Soonyoung, you are truly one of a kind.”

He gently grabs your chin, tilting your head up until you are eye to eye. His nose presses into yours.

“Is that a yes?”

You smile as you kiss him.

“Yes, it’s a yes.”

He practically leaps off the couch, startling you. He grabs your hand, pulling you up and directing you toward his bedroom.

“Wait,” he says as he pauses. He looks at you very seriously.

“My room or yours?”

“Don’t care,” you respond eagerly.

He grins. “Yours, then.”

—

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some-bunniii · 8 months

Text

My Charming Red Savior [1]

・❥ You’re harassed by a man following you down the street. Luckily, a rather smiley demon swoops in and claims to be your husband.

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 |

x: no use of y/n. i said this was going to be short and I lied, it’s about 6k words.

warnings: mild swearing

Warning! Battery at 1%! Device will power down in 3..

You stared down at the phone in your hands as the message lit up on the screen. Eyes widening, you quickly tapped the screen, trying to bypass the pop-up and get another glimpse at the digital map you were using.

2…

“Hold on now! Just let me see where I'm going, please!” You begged the small device, your grip tightening around it as you tried to figure out what direction you needed to go.

1..

You peered around the small pop-up. Okay.. Pete Ave was that way, which meant you needed to take a right after the stoplight and go-

Device powering down! Have a nice day :)

“Damnit!” You growled as the screen flashed once, and then faded to black. You squeezed your eyes shut, face lifted to the sky as you took a deep breath to center yourself.

“Move it, won’t ya?” A demon woman chastised as she hurried around you. Lowering your head, you realized you were standing in the middle of the sidewalk, your spot interrupting the flow of pedestrian traffic. Quickly, you backpedaled until your back hit a brick wall of a building.

It was getting late in Pentagram City, and that meant you needed to hurry to get to your friend's place before the worst inhabitants of Hell came crawling out.

She had just gotten married and moved into a rather quaint little home, and you were very happy for her. You had not seen it yet, just in pictures she had shown you on her phone and the one time you drove past it.

“Oh, pleaseeee won’t you come over tonight? I can’t wait to show you all the renovations we’ve done! It looks so much better since we bought it.” She had begged over the phone that afternoon.

You had stood there, your nails clicking against the countertop in your kitchen as you thought. You had nothing important going on, just some light cleaning and shopping. What was the harm in going over there and visiting?

“Okay, sure. Yeah, I can come over.” You finally spoke.

“Ahh! I’m so excited, we’ll have a big dinner and everything. I can even rent a movie for us to watch, what are you into again? Those sappy romance flicks?”

“Whatever you want to watch, it’s your milestone we’re celebrating. I’m not the one picking.”

“Geez, you know how hard it is for me to decide things like that! But, i’ll do it. Oh! Before I forget, could you stop by the store on your way and get some Cajun seasoning? It’s for the meal!”

“Of course. I’ll see you soon.” You had told her, before hanging up. Eyes moving to the clock, you realized you two hours before needing to arrive. Which meant you had to get moving on those dishes and errands.

It didn’t take long before you were out the door. Wearing a nice outfit and new shoes, you strolled down the street. The digital map on your phone guiding you across the city as you moved.

Being so close to the city center, you didn’t have a personal vehicle. Instead, you took public transport all the way past the Entertainment District, your eyes gazing up at the rather tall VoxTek building as the bus sped by.

You didn’t know much about the Vees, other than they were very powerful Overlords with a lot of influence in the media industry. In fact, you didn’t know much about Overlords at all. Were they nasty demons? They must be, if they bartered in souls.

But there had to be better ones, right? You knew of the cannibal, Rosie, and despite her, well.. dietary choices, she seemed to be a rather motherly and courteous demon. In such a way that the residents of Cannibal Town held very high regards for her, which proved her ability to lead in a just manner. She couldn’t be the only one with a more ethical moral code.

Your mind lingered on that train of thought, before you were pulled back into reality by the bus driver’s call for your stop. Quickly, you had hurried out of the vehicle, before continuing your directed path forward.

You arrived at the large storefront, a cozy cottage-like building that whispered of deliciousness as the scents of spices and other meal-making goods wafted through the open door.

Taking a step inside, you quickly darted through the aisles, searching for the Cajun seasoning. What was your friend making tonight? You weren’t too familiar with these kinds of ingredients. Hopefully, it was going to be tasty.

When you found it, you turned it in your hands, inspecting the product. Yep, you’ve never seen this before in your life.

After paying for the item, you quickly departed. Your next destination set on your phone.. but not for long.

Just a few more blocks, and you’d have been welcomed by the two love-birds with open arms. A nice, hot meal and a good movie to finish the night.

Except, how were you supposed to get there now?!

Your phone was useless, and the digital displays around you showed nothing but advertisements and the latest news.

Frantically, you looked around for any familiar landmarks, hoping to rely on your memory to guide you. But the streets of Pentagram City, with their twisting alleys and repetitive buildings, all looked eerily similar in the dimming red light of dusk.

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you tried to recall the route from memory. Pete Avenue, right after the stoplight, then… was it a left or a right at the next intersection? You berated yourself for not doing a better job at memorizing the way before you left.

Turning, you raised a fist at the VoxTek HQ building, cursing them for your suffering. Stupid technology and their shitty battery life.

Slowly, you started walking again. Past the neon signs beckoning you to take a glance at what they had to offer, past the girls on the corner who were calling out to you to come have a ‘good time’.

Sometimes, you wished you had someone else to lend a hand at times like these. But, your heart and your home were unimaginably lonely when it came to a romantic partner. It was something that others around you couldn’t stop pestering you about.

“You really need to get out more,” another friend of yours had said one day, while you two dined at a cafe, “there’s this new dating app, called ‘Ozzie’s Love Link’. Everybody is buzzing about it. You should totally give it a whirl!”

You had rolled your eyes at her suggestion, a dating app? Those things were practically a fraud. The demons on there either wanted sex, or their idea of a relationship was twisted and foul. You even had heard stories of people playing into sick traps of the perfect first meet, only to be murdered and left in an alley to rot.

“I want something real, not some.. temporary escape. Have you ever met anyone that’s actually found ‘The One’ through one of those things? And, who knows, maybe the demon of my dreams will just walk right into me one day.”

She had laughed at your words, holding a hand to her mouth to contain her giggles.

“Oh, you. You’re still hanging on to those silly stories of a Prince Charming, hm? C’mon now, this is the real world. Nobody is going to swoop in and save you, and then fall hopelessly in love with you. That's a fairy tale. You need to put in the effort.”

You shrugged. Maybe, she was right. Maybe, those stories you had digested were just fairy tales, meant to enrapture you with promises of the perfect life. You were in Hell, after all.

‘She just doesn’t understand,’ you reminded yourself, ‘all her relationships have been toxic. She doesn’t know any better.’

You weren’t going to let her judgments get to you, you could live your life however you wanted, with whatever dreams you chose.

As you walked down the bustling streets, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. It was as if unseen eyes followed your every move, sending shivers down your spine.

‘Stop freaking out,’ you told yourself, ‘it’s just your imagination, there’s people all around you. They have their own lives, they’re not watching you.’

Nearing the curb to an intersection, you glanced up at the street sign. Pete Avenue, finally. Now, think. Left?

Looking left, you peer down the rows of strip clubs and bars. The crowds only got bigger from there, and there seemed to be no residential streets. You turned your head to the right, and it began to branch out into more domesticated buildings and neighborhoods. The farther your gaze traveled, the quieter the sidewalks became.

So, right it is.

You turned the corner of the block and kept moving, your pace quickening as you checked a large digital clock on the side of a building. It was getting closer to the time you had promised to be there.

But, now where were you supposed to go? You turned your head, until your gaze landed on a small imp standing near an alley, a cigarette between his lips.

Walking forward, you raised your hand up in greeting. “Excuse me, do you know where Magdalene Drive is, by any chance? I’ve just gotten a little turned around and would greatly appreciate some guidance.”

The imp regarded you for a moment, his eyes squinted in thought. He pulled the cigarette from his lips, and exhaled a large breath. A plume of gray smoke vented from his lips, and he coughed harshly.

“Yeah, I do. You see that big statue over there?” He pointed to your left, the cigarette hanging between his fingers.

Turning your head, you leaned slightly backwards. Off in the distance, a large marble statue depicting an unknown owl demon practically glowed against the darker backdrop. It seemed to hold resemblance to an Ars Goetia family member, but you couldn’t put a finger on who.

“Right when you pass it, take a left. Go two blocks straight, then take another left. One more block, and another right, and you’re on Magdalene Drive.”

Jeez, that was a lot of directions thrown at you in one sitting. Not wanting to pester the man any further, you waved a thanks and walked away.

How far have you come, exactly? You turned your head behind you, looking down the sidewalk of where you had just come from. Something flickered in your peripheral vision, a dark figure skirting from your gaze. Was someone watching you?

You shook your head. No, it’s just your imagination. Keep moving.

Slowly, you turned back and started walking. The sidewalks were practically empty now, the glow from the street lamps above you illuminating your path as you strolled up the large statue.

Twisting your head to get a better look at it, your gaze skimmed across the royal figure. The owl-demon was staring up at the sky, one arm raised with what seemed to be a ball of energy in his grasp. Swirls of gold marble laced the pearly white sphere. He was holding up, like it was an offering to Heaven.

Maybe, you’d come back later and take a look at the plaque below the statue. There had to be some significance, although you didn’t see yourself as a master of the fine-arts to te-

Crunch

What was that? That sounded like someone crushing a twig beneath their feet. You twisted to face behind you, and saw nothing once more.

‘Alright, this is getting a little freaky.’

You weren’t going to stop now though, you didn’t want any potential onlookers seeing you stalking the perimeter like a weirdo simply because your paranoia was having you hallucinate things.

Keeping your pace, you took a sharp left on the corner and continued down. How many blocks did that guy say? Two, if you could recall correctly.

That’s how many blocks you traveled, before stopping in your tracks. Which way did he say to go? Right? Left?

You rubbed your face with a hand, why did you suck so badly with directions?! If only you had charged your phone before you left, you wouldn’t be in this predicament.

Turning your head, you tried to figure out which way could be the correct one. There was nothing, though. It didn’t remind you of anything you’d seen when you had driven past her house.

“Hey, you lost?” A gravelly voice came from behind you. Eyes widened, you spun on your heel to face the stranger. He was tall, much taller than you. He sported scars running across his face, one eye half-lidded permanently from some kind of nasty wound.

He sported a dark leather jacket, with a thin sweater underneath. His hoodie was up, masking most of his features like a shadow. His skin was a dark red, and his eyes were a pale yellow. He seemed to be a Succubus demon, being too large for an imp.

There was no kindness in his tone or in his smile. Your brain screamed danger, you needed to get away from him. Quickly, you shook your head, trying to give him a well-meaning smile.

“No, i’m not! I’m just uhh- waiting for someone, they’ll be here soon anyway.”

“People that aren’t lost usually don’t ask strangers on the street for directions,” he chuckled darkly, “why don’t you tell me where you’re trying to go? I can give you a lift.”

As he closed in, you could smell the bitter taste of alcohol on his breath. You had to steel yourself not to recoil at his looming figure. Widening your smile, you attempted to not display any fear as he got closer.

“No, thank you. I would hate to bother you, my.. partner should be here soon, so you can continue on with your day!”

“Don’t you know this place ain’t safe for sweet dolls like you to be roaming alone? C’mon, let me take you to where i’m parked, i’m sure you’ll enjoy my company.”

You quickly stepped backwards, trying to widen the distance from this creep. It wasn’t until your back hit the wall of an abandoned storefront, did you realize you were trapped.

“I said no. I’m not some damsel in distress. Now, if you can excuse me, I need to keep going before it gets too late.”

You turned away from him, trying to break any kind of contact with the demon. Maybe if you kept your cool, he’d abandon his little mission.

That was until you felt his hand snake around your wrist, his grip tightening and pulling you to face him. In your state of shock, you dropped the bag containing the Cajun seasoning. You tried to tug your wrist free, but his yellow nails were practically digging into your skin, preventing your escape.

“What’s the rush, Doll? Scared i’m gonna bite or something? Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna harm you. I just want to show you a good time.”

Your eyes narrowed, gaze heated at the stranger. You frowned, glimpsing at his hand on your wrist in disgust.

“What are you doing? I don’t want anything to do with you, now let go of m-!”

“There you are, my dear!” A masculine voice exclaimed next to you. You felt the creep’s grip on your wrist loosen suddenly. His hand yanked away by another, and your gaze traced the light touch of unknown dark-red fingers gently taking your hand instead.

You snapped your head to the unfamiliar voice, taking in the sight of a second demon standing right besides you, a large grin on his face. He was tall, and he stood a little bit higher than the creep in front of you. His hair was styled in a cropped, angled bob, with an odd pinkish-red shade. Two small antlers protruded from the top of his head, and were those.. ears next to them too?

He was dressed rather formally, with a red pin-stripe coat adorned with a large black bow-tie. Over his right eye, you took note of the small oval-shaped monocle. He held a cane, with an odd looking end. The small oval in the center of it reminded you of an eye. He looked very dapper, like he was from a much older era.

His gaze was soft, as he looked at you. It wasn’t until his eyes snapped to the stranger in front did they take on a cold, dark glare. That smile never faltered, though.

Who was this guy? Why was he touching you? You felt the need to tear your hand from his grip as well.

Except, when he turned back to you, his eyes sent you a hidden message. Something like, ‘Go along with it, if you want to get rid of him.’

Seeing as you were stuck between two strange demons, with no idea what this new guy had in store for you, maybe it was a good idea to follow his silent command. Your hand went limp in his grip, and the deer demon raised it to his chest, patting it lovingly.

“Goodness, I leave for ten minutes to go pick up your favorite herbal tea and poof, gone! You are a slippery one, my sweet.” Static dripped from his voice, seemingly connected to the cane at his side. Was it some kind of microphone?

“Who are you?” The stalker questioned, backing up a step as he regarded the new face.

The red demon laughed, an audible ‘ha ha’, as if the creep just told a rather good joke. He extended his free hand in greeting, and the succubus only eyed the gesture with suspicion.

“The name is Alastor! Pleasure to be meeting you, sir, quite a pleasure. It’s rare for people these days to not recognize my face, although i’m sure it’ll become familiar soon enough.”

That ‘soon enough’ sounded quite ominous to you. And, was he some kind of celebrity or something? You didn’t remember him from anywhere.

“Well, do you mind? Me and the lady were in the middle of a conversation.” The succubus retorted, a slight growl in his tone.

“The better question is, do you mind, my good sir! Here I am, searching for my dear wife, only to see you bothering her on the corner!”

Wait a second, did this guy just call you his wife? You stood there, shocked, as you listened to the two bicker. Never would you think you’d hear that uttered from a man.

“Not only that, but touching her without her consent? My word, what degenerate behavior!” The demon, Alastor, continued. He shook his head in disapproval, an audible tsk-tsk coming from his lips.

“There was no harm in it, we were only having some fun. Ain’t that right, Doll?” The stalker turned to you, fire in his gaze as if daring you to speak.

You shook your head, your gaze snapping to Alastor. He watched you for a moment, before turning his attention back to the succubus.

“It seems your mother neglected to instill in you even a modicum of respect. If my wife weren’t here to witness, I'd be more than obligated to educate you on proper decorum.”

Something flickered in the creep’s eyes, and for a moment he looked almost afraid. After a moment, He sneered, eyeing you up and down. "I don't see a ring on her finger."

Alastor smirked, and gently lifted your hand forward for the demon to get a look at. His grin was that of triumph, as though he was showcasing a prized possession.

Your eyes widened at the sight, a gasp almost escaping your lips. On your finger, was a small gold ring. It was snuggled nicely around your digit, a perfect fit.

The Succubus leaned in, and so did you. Where the hell did that come from? That was not there a few minutes ago!

On closer inspection, you noticed something about the small band. Engraved in a tiny rose-gold font, was a single letter.

"There, now do you see?" Alastor's grin widened, his demeanor playful yet menacing. His eyes narrowed, as he waited for the demon's response. You felt the air crackle with some kind of energy, it was dark and cold. The hair on the back of your neck began to stand on its end, like static. Which one of the demons was doing that?

The stalker’s expression shifted from arrogance to confusion, then to frustration. He furrowed his brow, studying the ring intently as if searching for some kind of flaw.

Was he going to try and argue? The proof was there, albeit fabricated. Alastor dropped your hand, and instead snaked his arm around yours, locking you in place.

There was no argument didn’t, instead, the succubus took another step back. The demon straightened himself and shrugged, like the scene before him was not a bother, like his filthy plan wasn’t thwarted by the appearance of the powerful deer man.

“Whatever, I ain’t got time for this anyway. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Lovebirds.”

As the man turned away, Alastor’s grin widened as he nodded his head. “Farewell, and may your endeavors be as futile as your manners!”

He turned to you, that dark look gone from his eyes as he gently tugged at your arm, still laced with his. “Now, my dear, shall we continue on our evening stroll?”

You nodded slowly, and together, the two of you turned away from the creep and began to walk. You had only made it a few steps before you heard the soft knocking of Alastor’s staff hitting the cement walkway. What was he doing?

Behind you, a strangled cry filled the silence, before a loud thump hit your ears. You jolted at the sound, did something just happen? It sounded like someone got hurt!

Right as you were about to turn your head to look at where the noises had emanated from, Alastor’s head snapped to you and you felt another gentle tug on your arm to turn your attention back to him.

You looked up at him, a smile forming on your lips as your nerves settled. “Thank you, for saving me, kind sir. I could have been a goner.”

“It was no trouble at all my dear, and please, call me Alastor. I was simply in the neighborhood and couldn’t just stand by and let that rapscallion manhandle you like that! Now, where are we off to, if I might ask?”

“Oh, well, Magdalene Drive! It’s a house right at the end of a street, my friend's place actually. She’s expecting me for dinner, that’s why I have this bag of…”

You became suddenly aware of the empty feeling in your hand. Did you forget to pick up the seasoning after you dropped it?! You groaned internally, your head hung in defeat. After all that, you didn’t have the one item you had taken this route to get.

Alastor raised an eyebrow at your reaction, and you quickly explained, “I needed to get Cajun seasoning for the meal they are making, but I dropped it when that.. man was harassing me! I’m terribly sorry, I have to go back and get it.”

Alastor only smiled, as usual, and shook his head. He waved his hand in a sweeping motion, brushing off your attempt to turn around.

“Nonsense! We don’t need to bother that poor soul any longer. Here, let me give you one from my personal collection!”

He lifted his free hand, and snapped his fingers. In a flicker of green light, a small spice jar landed in his palm. Your eyes widened, an amused smile gracing your lips as you watched the little trick. That was pretty cool. Was that the same kind of magic he used to secretly place the ring on your finger?

“Here you are! The best Cajun seasoning you can find in Pentagram City, my personal favorite. I was going to use it for something special, but it seems you are in need of it more than I.”

He lifted his hand toward you, and you took it gratefully. Lifting it to your nose, you inhaled deeply. It was an odd scent, one you couldn’t quite place, but it smelled quite delicious.

“Not many dishes require such flavoring, what is the meal you are having tonight?”

You shrugged, “I'm not really sure, to be honest. She didn’t say.”

“Hm, a pity. Have you ever tried Jambalaya? It is a rather magnificent dish, my personal favorite actually! My mother was quite the cook, indeed, and her craft would never miss when producing such delicacies.”

“No, I've never tried it before. What does it taste like?”

“It is hard to put a description on it. It’s almost like.. fireworkings popping off in your mouth! Ha ha, that is a good way to put it. You really must try it sometime.”

You smiled at Alastor as you listened to his words. Perhaps, you would.

“What got you into this pickle, anyway? Surely you didn’t actually feel like taking a stroll so late in the evening, hm?” He questioned as the two of you continued your pace, “a pretty face like yours will cause quite the stir amongst the filthy rats that like to inhabit this place.”

“Oh, well, I was using my phone for directions. It died on the way here, unfortunately I'm not familiar with this area and couldn’t find my way forward.”

His words finally processed in your brain. Did he just call you pretty? You didn’t get to think about that for much longer as his static-laced voice filled the air once more.

“Ah, of course. This new.. modern technology is nothing short of a fraud, if I do say. What ever happened to the old fashioned paper map? If it were up to me, we wouldn’t be so reliant on such faulty equipment.”

“Is that what your staff is? It looks like a microphone.” You said, pointing to the cane in his other hand.

Alastor glanced down to his cane, and then back to you. “Aha, a clever one indeed! Yes, my dear, I use it for my radio broadcasts!”

You perked at that. Radio? You had one of your own at home. Although it was quite dusty, you did occasionally turn it on to see what latest hits were circling around in the music industry.

“You do radio? That’s actually kind of interesting! Do you have a big audience?”

“Yes, indeed! Back when I was at my highest with it, I had many listeners. Unfortunately, my absence from Pentagram City has led to other forms taking the spotlight. I plan on rectifying that once I've settled in. Perhaps, you could listen in as well to see what I have to offer?”

You nodded at that, perhaps, you would listen in. He had a nice, pleasant voice. It felt like you could sit there for hours and just listen to him speak. Even if the words that came from his mouth was nothing but gibberish, you’d still let his voice drown out your thoughts.

“What about you?” The static dripping from his voice causes you to turn your head, “what do you do for a living?”

“Oh, well, I work at a men’s formalwear store. So, like tuxedos, dress shirts, and all that jazz. I help assist with fittings and greet guests, basically the doorgirl. Nothing too important.”

His ears perked slightly as he listened, and he turned his head to you. “Well, isn’t that interesting! Just recently, I had an awfully rude encounter with another demon, who had torn a piece of my suit. That slippery little serpent got away before I could.. question him about his antics.”

“That’s awful! Who was it?”

Alastor chuckled, rolling his eyes as he recalled the event. “Oh, nobody of importance, I assure you. Just some pretentious upstart fancying himself as an Overlord, with a knack for building rather ghastly creations of destruction. Since that encounter, I've been in the market for a fresh look. If a place of formal employs such splendid characters like you, I think it would be in my best interest to take a look in your establishment for a new coat”

Your eyes widened, he wanted to buy a new suit at your work because.. you were there? How charming.

Taking another glance at him, you realized he was rather good-looking. His red hair popped out against his much paler skin, it shined against the streetlights above. It looked rather silky and smooth, like you could comb them with your fingers and not find a single knot.

And those ears? They were pretty cute, actually. They stuck up from his head, and every so often they would twitch or shrivel in the direction of sudden noises. They seemed so soft too, would they feel as good as they looked if you were to squish them between your fingers?

He was a well-mannered gentleman, a pretty rare specimen in Hell. Not only that, but he stepped in to defend you from that creep when he could have simply walked by. He didn’t, and that made your cheeks heat up. Especially with the fact he called you his wife, instead of something simpler like ‘friend’.

What about when he called you pretty? Did he actually mean that? You never regarded yourself as such, but if Alastor thought that, maybe you cou-

“Is this the house?” Alastor’s words pulled you back into reality. You blinked, before looking up at the pale blue cottage snuggled nicely between two large Victorian homes. The talks you were having must have kept you from noticing the large distance.

“Yes! This is the place!” You exclaimed happily, finally, you were here. You turned to him, before looking down at your arm, still laced with his. Slowly, you pulled your arm free. The cold that replaced his touch was unwelcomed. Which felt odd to you, why did you want him touching you still?

You had only just met him, but perhaps his way of speaking and heroics swooned you enough to miss the warmth of his grasp. Lifting your head to meet his gaze, you tried to see what he was thinking behind that constant smile.

His eyes were unreadable, but the cold stare he had given the succubus, and to the other onlookers that you had occasionally passed was missing as he looked at you. There seemed to be a smile in his eyes, one that was meaningful and true.

“Well, I'm glad I could assist you in finding your way home, my dear. I quite enjoyed our chat, it is refreshing to hear from a new face once in a while. Especially one as eloquent as yours.”

You had to keep yourself from visibly blushing. He really was a gentleman in all regards. You bowed your head respectfully, before meeting his gaze again.

“The only reason why I'm here is because of you, Alastor. Thank you, and I do hope to run into you in the future. Our conversation was very interesting, I'd love to hear more of it sometime.”

He tilted his head at you, as he regarded your words. “Indeed, perhaps we will. Maybe, the next time we cross paths, I can give you a glimpse into my mothers recipe of Jambalaya. I’m sure your friend would be interested in trying something new the next time you sit down for dinner.”

You smiled at him, before waving goodbye. Turning towards the door you lightly rapped your knuckles against its wooden frame. It was then that you realized you never properly introduce yourself.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I never got to tell you, my name is-”

The words halted in your mouth, as you found the space in front of you empty. Alastor had vanished, not a single trace of his presence remained.

He was gone already? Damn, that guy moved quickly. Maybe, he was just a hallucination, a dream too good to be true. You stood there for a moment, before closing your mouth in thought.

Suddenly, the front door was flung open and a hand reached out and grasped your top. You turned your head just as you were yanked inside. Before you had time to blink, the door was slammed shut behind you. The window near it was shielded by curtains in seconds.

In front of you, your friend stood there. She was breathing heavily, a hand to her heart as if she just witnessed the scariest thing in her life. She quickly held your shoulders, scanning your body for any injuries.

“Oh my gosh! You’re lucky I pulled you in here quickly,” She exhaled a breath to calm her nerves, “You could have been that guy’s next meal!”

“What are you talking about?” You asked, an eyebrow raised at her strange demeanor.

“Alastor! The Radio Demon! Y’know, the guy that murdered all those overlords years ago?”

You raised an eyebrow as her words settled in your head. That demon was the Radio Demon? No way! He was such a gentleman, and rather pleasant too!

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not! I don’t know what happened between the two of you, hopefully not a deal, but you need to stay away from him. He’s nothing but a bad omen!”

You smiled, shaking your head at her antics. She was just being silly, Alastor saved you from potentially being kidnapped. You doubted he’d lay a finger on you in a harmful manner.

“Well, I brought that seasoning. Why don’t we go take a tour of the place, hm?” You said, pulling her away from the doorway and down the hall.

She nodded, her face lighting up instantly. “Yes, a great idea! I can’t wait to show you the kitchen, we replaced practically everything. The flooring is a beautiful marble tile and…“

She trailed off as her gaze shot to your hand, her eyes widening at the sight. Quickly, she grasped it, and pulled it closer to inspect it. You tensed, what was she doing?

“..what is that on your finger? I didn’t know you wore this kind of jewelry!”

Following her gaze, you turned your hand slightly to see what she was so enthralled about, and your eyebrows raised in surprise at the sight.

Still perfectly snug on your finger, was that gold ring Alastor had magically placed on you. You assumed that it would have dissolved or vanished when he left, but that small A still glimmered in the overhead light.

“I’ll explain it over dinner.” You simply replied, pulling your hand out of her grip and beginning to walk further into the house.

Your eyes kept landing on the golden band, though. Alastor not far from your mind as you listened to your friend fill you in on all the renovations. It was quite pretty, and it seemed to look great on you. For a moment, a rather odd thought crossed your mind, causing your cheeks to heat as you lamented over it.

Would it be so bad if you just.. kept it on?

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

woah, first fic of Alastor! I thought he’d be the perfect guy for this scenario. i wrote the reader as sort of a hopeless romantic bc it’s the complete opposite of al and i thought it was funny

EDIT: Part 2 is coming!!

lmk what you think! :)

#Alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #Alastor #radioapple is my crack ship so it makes sense i give al and luci love on my blog lmao

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ilycosy · 8 months

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❝ YOU FREE 2NIGHT ? ❞ | LUKE CASTELLAN

pairing : luke castellan x reader

summary — it's a cold february morning, nothing special to you, really. but there's that sickening air around camp that has everyone in a trance, you'll escape it this year again of course. or will you?

warnings : reader is a hater , luke is a helpless romantic loser , they're both awkward teenagers but it's so cute , percabeth !!!

aﾉn — a valentines day fic !! 🤍 i hope u guys enjoy <33 i rlly like writing luke as a loser but i think u guys alr know that sjshak

you woke to hushed giggles in the cabin, an aphrodite boy perched up on one of your half brothers. basically eating each other's faces before anyone wakes up to see them, you roll your eyes.

listen, you weren't entirely against romance. just all the bits where you have to share yourself with your 'special person', especially in public. pda was your own personal tartarus, you were sure of it.

which is why it was shocking to receive a stupid note during breakfast from luke asking if you're free tonight, misspelled might you add. and even though you found it stupid, you couldn't help but wonder why he would even bother with you.

you— the person who once told him that he had the face of a sloth, the person who shoved him into the lake just because you could, the person who told him to 'get over' hermes when he came to camp. really, you couldn't think of any reason he'd ever like you.

but with how he smiled eagerly when you opened the note, and how he waved and did a thumbs up when you read it. you ditched the unsure thoughts of him just lying to you. you weren't free anymore.

you circled the no answer box, slipping the note back to him when your cabin was called for the offerings. trying not to look at him when he got cheesy and had percy come over to tell you to meet luke at a spot.

"luke said he wants you to meet him at," percy looks down at his hand, like he's reading from a fake script. "the place you poured juice onto his head? he's speaking in riddles to me, man."

you almost smiled at percy's sarcastic tone, but instead, you rolled your eyes and took a bite of your food. "tell him ill be there at 7." you say, turning your full attention to your food after.

you think you hear percy say, 'aye aye captain.' but you can't really be sure. you're too busy wondering how you're going to keep your food down with how your stomachs churning just thinking about what will happen.

well, turns out— 7 will come a lot sooner when you're stressing about what will happen at that time, the movies lied to you!

you sit anxiously at a clearing in the forest, looking around as you remember how you had dumped apple juice onto lukes head when you both were 15. you claimed it was to cool him down, but really, it was because he had called you pretty.

twigs snap behind you, and when you snap your head around, you're greeted with cupcakes?

"hey," luke greets, calmly sitting next to you like this was a casual hangout. "you hungry?" he asks, but he's a little nervous. his voice strained and his face a little red as he holds out sloppy cupcakes, clearly done by him and younger campers.

the cupcakes are messy, but they smell delicious. you almost grab one before reading what is spelt out on them, 'kiss me?'

you can't help but laugh, giggling to yourself as you hover over the k cupcake. "man i knew it was silly," he groans, setting the platter in his lap as he looks away embarrassedly. "i knew you hated pda, so i did it away from others but i shouldn't have listened to annabeth with the cupcakes it's just she said percy did it and she loved it and–"

you pressed a finger to his lips, picking up the cupcake you wanted. taking a slow bite as you savor it, thinking about his rant while he stares at you with wide eyes. you ignore how you swear both your hearts are beating in sync.

"it's sweet," you say, not knowing if you're talking about the cupcake or his confession. "it's not silly." it comes out before you can even think about what you're saying, you're talking about the confession?

it shocks both of you clearly. "you're sure?" he asks hesitantly, drumming his fingers on the platter. "i had help from demeter kids with the cooking, so i hope it's good, but are you sure that it's not stupid you don't have to call it sweet i get—"

you press your lips to his hesitantly, unsure of what you're doing, but honestly, he needed to shut up. he sits stiffly with the cupcakes on him, his hands coming up to pull you closer. you both awkwardly avoid dropping any while you kiss, teeth clashing together a few times.

when you both pull away you can't help but laugh, his dazed and blushing face so close to yours that he can smell the sugar and dinner on your breath. he starts laughing too, leaning his forehead on yours.

"im not free tonight," you whisper, watching as he looks at you confusedly. the angle is a little silly to look at him from, but for some reason your heart beats harder in your ears. "i think im taken."

his confused face splits into a stupid grin, pressing another kiss against your mouth before he lifts up the question mark cupcake. "by me?" he asks, cheesily but you can't imagine it being any other way.

"yes," you roll your eyes but your voice is soft, and he thinks his heart will explode in his chest. "by you."

#cosywriting #castellanswrld #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fanfiction #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan oneshot #luke castellan smut #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan fic

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ghostlygeto · 1 year

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let me be your mirror | astarion

pairing: astarion x gn!tav / reader

warnings: spoilers for early romance w astarion, fluff, kind of follows canon dialogue, reader pining hard, reader is an artist this has been done with this exact scenario surely, astarion calls reader “darling”, “my sweet”, also “dove” which isn’t canon, reader and astarion aren’t really together but i mean. yeah they are. not proof read!!!!!

word count: 1.1k

you had been drawing astarion for much longer than you’d care to admit. though the dates scribbled on the bottom of each page betrayed you, exposing that you had drawn astarion close to every day for a month.

it started off innocently, you drew all of your party members when you had first met them. you were stressed and overwhelmed with your situation at hand, the tadpole snugly sat behind your eye squirming to remind you of your devastating truth: you’d soon become a mindflayer if you couldn’t find a cure. on nights you couldn’t sleep or mornings you’d woken up early, you found yourself drawing. it had always been a way you’d let off your steam, now was no exception.

when the stress of your situation died down, as did your drawings of your now friends. you had a couple day’s worth of gale and lae’zel, and probably a week of shadowheart. but astarion? it seemed every time your tool of choice hit the paper he had been the outcome.

you weren’t ashamed of it by any means. astarion is a gorgeous man, blood sucking monster or not. his eyes captivated you (as proven by the amount of drawings of them alone), and his voice had your attention like no other. if the nature of things were any different, you might be willing to confess you were in love with him.

so when the night came and everyone had fallen asleep but the two of you, and astarion had let it slip that he hadn’t seen his reflection in two hundred years, your heart broke. he didn’t know the way his curls hooked around his ears, or the way the corners of his mouth would turn up ever so slightly when he’d successfully kill a goblin. and his eyes, gods his eyes. you’d have to be dense to miss the way they light up at the very sight of you. knowing he didn’t get to enjoy the very things you adore about him devastated you.

“what color were they before?” you asked, arms wrapped tightly around your legs to hug them close to your chest. “your eyes, before you were turned.” your cheek pressed against your knee as you looked to him.

“my eyes?” astarion sounded surprised you’d asked him such a thing. “i don’t..i don’t remember.”

that felt like the final nail in your coffin. your heart ached more for him now that it had before, if that were even possible. if he didn’t remember his eye color, his hair color was probably long forgotten as well. it felt impossible to wrap your head around, you knew the shade of your eyes and tone of your hair by heart. the idea of forgetting it, well, you were sure you’d have to be dead to forget.

“what’s going on in that head of yours, darling?” his tone almost made you forget your sadness. it seemed anytime he spoke to you now his words were laced with honey, drawing you in and sticking to you.

“you haven’t seen yourself in two decades,” you repeat his previous words back to him, “you hardly remember your own face, is that not the least bit devastating to you?”

astarion hesitated before replying to you, trying to chose his words carefully. “of course it is. but there’s nothing i can do to change it, so why bother being upset?”

you chewed the inside of your cheek. of course you had the solution. you had probably close to twenty drawings of his face alone that could provide him some solace about the entire thing. but what if he thought you were weird for it? none of them knew of your little hobby, he could expose it to the others and they could cast you out for invading their privacy. and well, your infatuation toward him was nothing short of romantic. you weren’t sure he needed to know that, but exposing your drawings to him would make it clear.

“i can feel your tadpole wriggling around, what’s wrong, my sweet?” his voice sent a shiver down your spine before you finally managed to speak.

“let me be your mirror,” you offered, raising your head from your knees. you could practically see his thought process, and you didn’t miss the small smirk on his face. “what do you want to know?”

“i want to know what the world sees when it looks at me,” astarion held his usual cocky tone for a moment, but for a second it faultered. “what you see.”

“close your eyes,” he obeyed, wondering what it was exactly you were making him close them for. it wasn’t until he heard shuffling in your tent beside him that he opened them and called out to you confused.

“what are you doing? what in your tent could ever allow you to be my mirror?”

“hush, would you?” you roll your eyes at him as you step out from your shelter and back toward him. you took a deep breath before sitting back down next to him, offering him the pile of papers. “here.”

for the first time since you had met him, astarion was speechless. he wasn’t sure what he was expecting from you, maybe a few put together compliments for him to tease you about before leaving the conversation at that. but this? he had no idea that you could draw, let alone that you’d use such a talent to draw someone like him.

“i know it might be weird, sorry,” you hide your face from him, afraid of his reaction. “i’m sure it might not be comforting to know someone you had barely known until recently has been drawing you for-”

“i don’t find it weird,” he interrupted you, gently grabbing your chin with his pointer finger and thumb, “look at me,” guiding your eyes to his, astarion offered you a smile. not a cocky smile or his usual smirk, but rather a real smile. one you weren’t sure you’d seen from him before. “thank you…for this. they’re beautiful. and i…i could never express my gratitude to you,”

you removed your chin from his hold and waved your hand at him, dismissing his words. “don’t say all that astarion. you make an amazing muse, it’d be criminal of me to not make use of that.” you chose to pretend the burning in your cheeks had been from the fire and not the blooming embarrassment.

“criminal, hm?” it didn’t take long for the astarion you had grown attached to to return, smirk plastered on his face. he leaned forward to press his forehead to yours before speaking again, his voice low and almost sultry, “well we wouldn’t want you to get arrested again, now would we, dove?”

“you ruined the moment, astarion,” you huff, pulling your legs back to your chest to rest your head on your knees again. “it’s getting late. we should sleep.”

astarion nodded, standing from his place and offering you his hand to help you up. “yes, i’d hate for a lack of sleep to ruin your muse,” he teased again, handing you back your drawings. “i’ll see you in the morning, darling.”

reblogs, comments, and likes appreciated !!

#astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion baldurs gate #baldurs gate x reader #mine !!#bg3 x reader #astarion fic #astarion drabble #astarion fluff

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heartkaji · 2 months

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‪‪❤︎‬ TEEN ROMANCE !

(n) — bllk boys & their kind of love. includes : isagi yoichi, reo mikage , nagi seishiro , oliver aiku

ISAGI YOICHI ! — romeo & juliette.

dating yoichi is sweat-soaked skin pressed against sweat-soaked skin on the mink fur rug of your bedroom floor carpet. isagi is yawn slash yearning—he kisses you silly with honey on his tongue & your back pressed against your bedroom floor with thighs wrapped around like ivy on his waist. there are bruises on your neck & cherry lipstick stains his cheeks & every minute or two you have to pull away because ‘i swear i hear my mom coming up the stairs.’ even so he nibbles at your neck & traces comets on your skin because ‘don’t worry pretty, she’ll never find us out.’ your heart’s in your throat & you swear the footsteps are getting louder but all you can do is swallow your chest & pray. you hug yoichi a little tighter because unlike romeo & juliet, your story will not end in split hearts & summertime sadness.

REO MIKAGE ! — skin & a country club

super rich kids make nothing but fake friends but the ghost of reo’s lips on yours is oh-so-sloppy yet oh-so-real. his mouth tastes like raspberry syrup & strawberry chambourd & when his palms slip below the seam of your skirt you think he is grace. you know that once the party’s over & it’s time to leave the yacht you’ll go back from star crossed lovers to trust fund babies who long for something more than riches & bloodline; so you tug at his hair & guide his hold to your hips in hopes he’ll hold you tighter & never let you go.

NAGI SEISHIRO ! — lovelorn lethargy

nagi seishiro is lazy lover & lazy kisses & lazy touch on your waist, neck, everywhere. he smells like sea foam deluxe & cotton elixir but you want to crush his bloody throat between your palms because ’one more round angel, i swear it.’ it was one more round thirty minutes ago / an hour ago / an hour and a half ago & you’re only a girl so you’ve decided you’ve suffered enough. you have your coat on your shoulders & mary janes grace your feet & you’re about to leave but your waist feels warm & there’s a weight on your neck—‘m’sorry bunny, i’m all done now, yeah ?’

OLIVER AIKU ! — sex & a daydream

last week he left scars on your back / this week he left scars on your neck / next week he’ll leave scars on your heart. you hate aiku & his smart mouth but you love the way it swells & blossoms with peach smeared lip stick when you bite his lip & kiss him silly. aiku is fox teeth ripping through peach flesh—he tastes like brown sugar & warm honey in a wheat field but you can smell carolina herrera & you know it’s not yours. your heart bleeds up your throat & you should push him away but his hand’s in your hair & his palms grip your knees. you’ve got all the time in the world—you might as well kiss him now & curse him later.

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princesajellyfish · 3 months

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Taste me

Rating: Mature (18+ No Minors allowed)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Characters: Laios Touden Content: Smut, Cunnilingus, Fingering, Semi-Public Sex Word count: 3805 Reader has a pussy and and wears a skirt. Everything else is up to interpretation. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Laios, you're so special to me.”

Currently you lay on the hard and rocky floor of the dungeon. Pebbles and sharp edges poked your soft flesh and the back of your head started to ache from being pushed against its hard surface. But how could you possibly pay attention to that when you have the world's most handsome explorer in between your thighs. If you would've known that this is how confessing would've turned out you would've done so much much sooner.

Laios and you had shared mutual attraction for each other for sometime now. You, of course, noticed it much earlier than Laios ever could've. He was such a cutie, even though he was doing his best to hide his affections towards you it was impossible for you not to notice his longing gazes at night by the fire, or the extra portions of food that he would put aside for you. You would have been a fool not to notice any sooner.

Knowing Laios for as long as you have you knew that approaching the subject subtly was not going to work out with Laios. When it came to romance, it was not going to cut it. The love of your life was caring, sweet, and knowledgeable on all things monsters and dungeons, but he was not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed when it came to social cues. You didn't mind of course, that was one of the things you found the most endearing about him. No matter how wary he was of other people and their intentions he always did his best to stay as genuine and sincere to himself as he could. The way he was so brave and willing to be unapologetically himself made you look up to him and admire his strong will. But gosh was he dense.

Swallowing your own nerves you knew that if you wanted this relationship to advance anywhere you were going to have to to set things in motion. Not wasting any time one evening after eating a dish that consisted of harpy eggs and vegetables from senshis garden you volunteered to accompany Laios on a quest to find some extra fire material.

Walking alone in the dungeon halls was not the most romantic ambiance or the place where you imagined you would have your love confession in - but this was Laios you had fallen for, confessing here was probably his equivalent of a grandiose cherry blossom confession.

He had been rambling about his dream monster, something he had only spoken to you about, apart from his sister Falin, before you interrupted him. “I'm so sorry Laios, you know I love your monster talk…but there is something important I have to talk to you about.” you wrung your hands into the fabric of your long skirt, twisting and pulling to find confidence in between its threads.

Sensing your nerves Laiois placed a gentle hand on your shoulder and nudged you to turn your body slightly towards him. His gorgeous puppy dog amber eyes peered into yours and scanned your face over, you guessed he was checking you out to see if you had any injuries bothering you. In return you averted his own gaze and stared down at your fidgeting hands. Finally he spoke up to break the silence, “Hey? Everything alright? Did the food not settle well with you?”

Oh silly Laios, always thinking about food, If you weren't so nervous right now you would've laughed at his question. Shaking your head you found the courage to lift your eyes back to his.

You knew that Laios at least held some sort of affection towards you. You were still unsure if it ran as deep and as passionate as your feelings for him but you knew there was something there. You also knew that even if Laios wanted nothing to do with you in that way he would never belittle you for it. He was gentle and kind, a little too much sometimes, but he always treated others with respect. He had never done anything to hurt you purposefully. So you weren't quite sure why you felt so shaken by your attempt to confess. You supposed, that is just what love feels like.

You really hoped it would get a little less scary in the future.

“Laios, I think I love you.”

There, you said it. As blunt and straight to the point as you could, You made sure to leave nothing up to interpretation for Laios. You wanted him to fully understand the gravity of your feelings for him. Feeling anxiety crawl up your throat you quickly added “And it's okay if you don't feel the same way. Or if that's too much too soon. I just wanted you to know.”

The more you spoke the more you felt your voice die in your throat, each word sounding quieter than the last. Laios had still not said a word, but he stared at you with wide eyes and a slack jaw. In this moment you felt like you could puke from your nerves and yet you still thought the man in front you couldn't possibly look any cuter,

Suddenly you heard him take in the biggest breath of air he could muster, alerting you that this man had stopped breathing since you confessed to him, and then exhaled with the most hearty laugh you've ever heard come from him. His cheeks bloomed in hues of reds and pinks, unstoppable rivers of blood that reached the tip of his fingers and pooled to his neck. His eyes blinked rapidly as if he was trying to make sure he wasn't in a dream. “Please,” he hiccuped, “Do you mean it?”

You stared at his face before lowering your gaze to his lips. They were slightly parted and you could get a glimpse of his cute pink tongue. He must've noticed your stares because he let his tongue quickly swipe over his lips to wet them. Gazing back up to his eyes your hand finally let go of its death grip on your skirt and instead gently nestled into the side of his face. “I wouldn't even dream about joking about this Laois.” His eyes suddenly felt too intense for you so you closed your eyes and took another deep breath, “I love you and I can't contain it anymore. From the moment I met you I fell so deeply for you. You're so perfect. So kind.” You rubbed gentle circles on his cheeks, “‘You drive me crazy.”

Every word you spoke felt like a punch to the chest for Laios. In the best way possible. He never knew that hearing you sing such praises about him would affect him so viscerally. To his embarrassment he began to feel his pants become uncomfortably tight. “Not right now,” he thought. He didn't want to ruin your confession with his pervy thoughts.

He brought his hand up to your wrist and held it in his grasp. You observed how his eyebrows crinkled in frustration as he shut his eyes tightly. His breathing seems labored and small beads of sweat began to form on his hairline. If it wasn't for his grasp on your wrist you would have fallen backward from the overwhelming amount of desire you felt for him. Gods…you wanted him so bad.

Taking advantage of his closed eyes you let your own travel. You started off by staring at his lips still moist from his tongue, but your sinful desires seemed to take full control of your actions as you let your eyes wander further down his body. His armor in the way of you admiring his chest annoyed you for a second before you got a glimpse of something better. So this is why he was in deep concentration.

Laios was suddenly shook from his stupor when the sound of your airy laugh reached his ears. Slowly peeking his eyes open he was welcomed by the sight of your beautiful face. Eyes clouded with something he couldn't describe stared directly at his current source of frustration. Gasping he pushed himself back and dropped your wrist as if it had burned him.

He opened his mouth once, twice, three times to attempt and get some words out but for the life of him he couldn't form a single coherent sentence. A thousand things ran through his head and now it was turn to fidget with his hands. Pulling and picking his fingers he turned his body to face the wall behind him. He knew his silence could be taken wrongly and the last thing he wanted was to mess up his chances with the most beautiful woman he’s ever met.

Thankfully, you knew the man you had fallen for better than you knew yourself. So you allowed him to have his moment alone. After all, you were more than pleased with his reaction to your confession.

Finally he turned his head to the side, body still facing the wall, and began to speak up. “I'm sorry, I promise I'm not a perv. I don't know why I'm reacting like this,” He took in another deep breath, “You deserve a more romantic response.”

Giggling you made your way towards him and wrapped your arms around his armored torso, resting your head against his back you let out a content sigh. At this sudden feeling of warmth Laois tensed up before he quickly relaxed in your arms. “You're perfect Laios.”

Fuck.

He was so fucking hard. Did you even know how much power you had over him? How all you had to do was ask him to give you the world and he would do it. You could ask for the moon and the stars and he would spend his entire life figuring out how to do it. He loved you. Oh he loved you so much. Gods, the minute he laid eyes on you for the first time, you introduced him to a thousand new emotions he had no idea what to do with for the first time in his life. He knew what attraction was, and he understood what it meant. But love? This type of love? He wanted to learn everything about it solely with you.

Gaining confidence he flipped his body to face you, careful with your arms as he held them against himself. You could've melted in his arms right then and there, he looked at you with such adoration and love you almost felt bad about how much it excited you…almost. Testing the waters you pushed your body against his, feeling his boner poking your body.

“Hmph- wait (y/n),” his face becoming impossibly more red than before. He laid his head on top of yours and breathed in your scent. There was no way he was going to be able to control himself for much longer if you kept testing him like this.

Feeling bold, and a little impatient, you positioned your arms to wrap around his neck and brought your lips to his ear to whisper “It’s okay baby, I feel the same way too.”

You gently grabbed his, very sweaty, hand and placed it on the hem of your skirt. “I want you Laios,” his fingers curled around the hem, “If you want me too then I'm all yours.”

That was all he needed to hear. Almost too fast your skirt was pooled around your ankles and the cold dungeon air kissed your bare legs. Still pressed against him you not only heard but felt the vibrations of his almost animalistic growl he released.

Gently separating from him you reached for the bottom of your shirt and pulled it off, discarding it on the floor. You wished there was a way to permanently tattoo the sight of Laios staring at you as if you were an angel sent from above into your eyelids. He made you feel so loved, so beautiful. One of the many reasons why you fell in love with him.

He quickly reached out for you once more and attacked your lips with his tongue, he wanted, no he needed, to taste you. Hot breaths melted into each other and moans danced together in the air. Your fingers wrapped around his ash blonde locks and slightly pulled whenever he would bite down on your lower lip with his teeth. As dreamy as this felt, there was still something bothering you. Tilting your head away from Laios you watched as he instinctively tried to follow your lips before you rested your palm against his. “I dont think it's really fair that I'm the only one half naked here.”

Gasping at your confession Laios began to fumble with his armor. Amused you watched as he clumsily pulled it off with a sense of urgency. Now Laios was not the type of person to hyperfixate on his body. He never really put in the time to debate whether he was handsome or not. His mind was always preoccupied with monsters, food, dungeons, and only recently you. But now that you were in front of him, waiting and watching, he felt the ugly sensation of insecurity make its way into his mind. Maybe you would take one look at his body and wish you were with someone more toned and ripped. He wasn't the skinniest guy, and for the first time ever he didn't like that.

You noticed he was hesitating with removing his shirt and it honestly broke your heart. So you approached him and placed your hands on either side of his cheeks, squishing the fat causing his face to contort into an adorable little pout. “We don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with love,” you gave him a little peck on his pouty lips, ”But trust me when I say I love you. ALL of you. Including your body.”

Oh…you were not real. That's all Laios could think. How on earth was there such a perfect person? An actual Goddess walking amongst mere mortals like him. How did someone as perfect as you fall for someone as strange as him? He didn't notice it but his eyes started to sparkle with unshed tears. For so long he's been alienated from this type of affection. Something he didn't know was bothering him deep down inside until he finally got it from you.

He swore right then and there he would do anything to make you feel good. If you were a goddess then he was your most loyal worshiper. He finally removed his undershirt and stood before you bare chested. Before you had time to admire him he kneeled at your feet. “Laios? What are you doing?”

“(y/n)...” He lifted your right foot and placed gentle kisses on it, “I'm going to show you just how much I love you.”

Your words died in your throat as you watched him begin to trail his kisses from your foot to your ankle, and from your ankle to your leg. Every time his lips made contact with your skin your core pulsed with desire. His eyes never breaking contact with yours. Mentally imprinting your cute expressions and sounds into his mind forever. Finally he arrived at your inner thigh, its plushness making his dick twitch with excitement. If he wasn't so far gone he would've been a little embarrassed. But just a little.

He tried, he really did try, to control his impulses and not bite that delicious plush skin. But alas he was still a man, and you were so cute, so so cute. You jolted and gripped his hair when you felt his blunt teeth push down on your thigh, it hurt, but it felt so right. This continued on for a while before you started to lose your patience. You needed to be touched and he was taking too long, ignoring the most sensitive part of you. Bucking your hips you anchored his face to your core and held him there with your grip on his hair, not missing the moan he let out at your sudden dominance. “Then stop teasing and show me just how much you love me.”

His hands gripped your hips and he pressed his nose in between your folds, fuck you smelled so good. He was inexperienced with pussy but he was a professional eater, so he let his instincts take over. Pushing your underwear down he wasted no time connecting his tongue to your sensitive folds. He began by lapping up your delicious juices, immediately trying to guess what the flavor resembled. It was a bit tangy but somehow had a little bit of sweetness to it. He wondered if the food you had eaten today affected its taste, specifically the candy they had made with the dungeon spirits. This only made his cock impossibly more hard, already planning on tasting your delicious pussy every night after a good meal just to see how much it affected the way you tasted. Fuck was he in deep.

Wanting to get a better taste he searched for your hole and once he located it he wasted no time pushing his tongue inside, fucking you with it. You began to roll your hips on his face, trying to meet the pace of his tongue. Your freed one of your hands from its deathly grip on his hair and moved it towards your clit. As good as Laios was making you feel, you needed a little more stimulation. This of course was not missed by him.

Separating from your core with an obscene pop, he looked up at you, his mouth, chin, and even his nose glistening with your juices. “Please (y/n), teach me where to touch you.”

Oh you were much deeper than him. But how could you not be?

Pushing yourself off the wall you were previously leaning on for stability you decided to lay down. Spreading your legs you used your hands to spread your pussy for Laios to observe. “This right here is called the clit, this is the most sensitive area.” He nodded along with extreme enthusiasm. Typical Laios you thought.

“You can rub it, lick, or suck on it.” You then inserted two fingers into your wet hole. “You already know what this is, but if you finger me here while licking my pussy-” a small whine managed to escape your lips, “You'll make me cum in no time baby.”

This brings us to where this originally started. With you writhing and moaning against the harsh dungeon floor as Laios abused your swollen pussy in every which way. So lost into your pleasure you couldn't even tell what was his tongue and what was his fingers anymore. Meanwhile Laios was having the time of his life in between your legs. While he was pleasuring your cunt, savoring, sucking, lapping, and overall devouring you, his hips bucked into the floor, chasing his own release. He could cum just by eating you out.

You felt your legs begin to shake involuntarily, and you knew what this meant. “Laois! Im- Im-!”

He knew exactly what you were trying to say by the way your legs began to grip his head “Mmph, cum for me baby.”

He flattened his tongue on your clit and began bobbing his head side to side as fast as he could, occasionally stopping to suck on it with fervor. Meanwhile his fingers were pistoning your hole, curling inside to find your sweet spot. A sudden hot flash of pleasure completely took over your body and you couldn't contain yourself from gushing your orgasm all over his face. You swore you saw white as you let out your release.

Laios felt so good he could cry. Your taste, your moans, your pussy, your everything was too overwhelming. He wanted more and at the same time couldn't handle it. With one last buck to the floor he felt his own searing release take over his body. Cumming in his underwear the vibrations of his own moan electrifying your cunt.

After a few moments of you both catching your breaths and riding out your orgasms in bliss the reality of where you were hit you both like a ton of bricks.

Oops.

You prayed the rest of your party members were too distracted with their own chores to have heard the sinful indulgences you and Laios participated in. In the middle of the dungeon no less. Oh well, you were too content with the man who was currently laying on top of you to really care. Unfortunately you knew that they would eventually come looking for the two of you if you took too long to return. Patting his back you pushed your body off the ground with your forearm and placed a gentle kiss on his head.

Moving his head to look into your eyes he let out a gentle sigh. Clearly not ready to let go and head back just yet. He pressed a few kisses into your neck and hugged you tightly. He finally had you. Giggling you proceeded to sit up all the way and grabbed his face to attack him with kisses. Once you landed on his lips you noticed how you could taste yourself against him.

“GUYS! WHERE ARE YOU?!” That was definitely Marcille.

FUCK!

You both quickly scrambled to your feet and frantically searched for your discarded clothing, almost painfully pulling it on your bodies. Neither one of you had time to wipe down which caused you both to cringe a little. But that was better than being caught in such an intimate position by someone you both respected and cared about. Plus the embarrassment you would feel later would surely keep you up for nights on end.

You quickly turned to Laios and without thinking ran your hands through his hair in an attempt to make it look presentable. If you weren't so focused you wouldn't have missed the pure look of awe and admiration he held for you at that moment.

“There you are! We were beginning to get worried.” turning the corner, Marcille stood with a hand against her chest, letting out a deep sigh.

“Huh what happened to you guys! You look like you just ran a marathon or something! Did you encounter any monsters?!”

At the mention of monsters Laios quickly spoke up and formulated a very abstract lie about you and him getting chased by some creature. You honestly couldn't focus much on what he was saying, just being grateful that your man had all the knowledge in the world about monsters to create a believable story. Grabbing his hand you squeezed it. A wordless gesture that meant the world to the both of you.

Now you wondered, when you were going to be able to return the favor to him.

.............................................................................................................................

AN: Hello!!! Thanks for reading this very self indulgent fic I wrote at my very adult job LOL. In case you couldn't tell this man has me in a chokehold. This is my very first time posting my writing and my first time writing a "x reader" fic. So I apologize if it feels a lil ooc at times.

I think I'd like to continue writing for Dungeon Meshi and possibly for other fandoms, so if you guys have any requests my inbox is always open. :3

#laios dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon laios #laios touden #laios x reader #laios touden x reader #laios touden x you #laios touden smut #laios touden my beloved #delicious in dungeon #dunegon meshi #x reader #smut

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saintobio · 1 year

Text

sincerely yours. (8)

↳ gojou satoru/reader

when a twist of fate led their marriage to the path of a quintessential tragic romance, two past lovers go through another series of experiences on love, heartbreak, identity, illness, and trauma along the road to a happily ever after.

genre. heavy angst, amnesia, modern au, 18+

tags/warnings. profanity, mentions of cheating, implied suicide attempt, toxic relationship, explicit smut

series masterlist -> episode nine

9:21 AM.

Tap. Tap. Tap. The sound of your index finger drumming a slow and steady cadence against the table was nearly in perfect synchronization to the tick tock of the clock above the wall behind you. An icy, uninviting atmosphere was the best way to describe the current situation inside the conference room at this time of the morning, with the gelid detachment between the boss and her employees as you built a wall—an impenetrable wall—around yourself to keep the inner turmoil you had in your head.

So, you listened. You succumbed to silence as a result.

“I’d like to present this new idea that we, along with the ecommerce team, have come up with to increase engagement on our website.” Even as the marketing manager started to speak, you remained frigid. “We did go through some feedback that people have been posting online and they’re mostly saying that the current web theme is too plain and that they’re hoping to see a more engaging website, so we would love to propose some ideas that could improve Hearte’s overall online presence. We know that keeping the brand’s look consistent is very important, especially now that Hearte is still establishing its own name in the fashion industry, and we have currently done a phenomenal job with our brand style. However, as the online website is our visual storefront, not only is its functionality critical, but we also have to ensure that the web design is in line with our aesthetics.”

9:26 AM.

You leaned back on your chair with your arms crossed, looking up to speak to the manager from across the conference room. “Let’s keep the unnecessary introduction short and just go straight to the point,” you strictly announced, receiving curious eyes in return as it was their first time seeing you becoming all stern and unamused. Such an odd sight to see from a boss who used to have the brightest of sunshines reflecting on her smile. “What’s the proposal?”

The marketing manager cleared her throat and moved her presentation onto the next slide. “Yes, Ms. Y/N. So… uh, based on the data that you can see on the screen, our online sales increased by 15% for the past two weeks, but we still have about 10% of shoppers abandoning their shopping carts. Earlier this week, we set up email campaigns and social reminders to decrease our abandonment rate and urge shoppers to return to their carts. While working with the IT team, we did some A/B testing to determine which version would drive our business metrics. We’ve also reached out to The Society Management and added Kendall Jenner to our PR list so that possibly, in the future, we can get her as a model for our landing page and attract the western market,” she continuously explained in a manner to convince you of how much effort their department was doing to increase Hearte’s sales, “But what we believe could bring a tremendous improvement on our website engagement is by introducing style guides. This will capture the interest of the audience now that they can mix and match some outfits based on their own style, and—”

9:32 AM.

Sigh.

“Ms. Ono, I have to be honest, but I expected more from you,” you cut her off by leaving a frank comment on her presentation, “Fashion brands have been doing style guides for years. You make it sound like it’s unique, but it’s nothing new. How sure are we that it will actually bring a dramatic improvement on our website engagement? I doubt most of them would even browse through it.”

“Well, uh…” The marketing manager faltered, glancing at the head of the social media team for some help, which she didn’t end up receiving. “I think it’ll work the way we want it to as long as we introduce engaging copies that make buyers fall in love with the designs.”

“You think?” You criticized her word of choice. “Ms. Ono, I gave you enough time to brainstorm with your team, so the moment you step inside of this conference room, you should have prepared whatever strategy you had in mind. I don’t settle for ambitious words like ‘I think’ or ‘I believe’. I want to hear a proposal that’s original, unique, and captivating. I want you to be a hundred percent sure that you know what you’re doing before you waste everyone’s time like this. Do you understand? Am I being clear? I want a proposal that would definitely get us somewhere and not just by assuming we will.”

Were you being too harsh? They said that the fashion industry in itself was harsh, so what was so surprising about seeing you being strict, candid, and business-like? This was the nature of your job. This was normal.

9:47 AM.

Very timidly did Nobara raise her hand beside you to chime in on the discussion. “I know I’m not in the position to make suggestions, but…” She pressed something on her laptop before carefully sliding it to your side of the table, showing you what appears to be a classic early 2000s ‘dress-up game’ with a base model and a selection of outfits that were inspired by your designs. “I just wanted to show you this, Ms. Y/N. I do agree with Ms. Ono’s idea to introduce style guides, but maybe we can do it in an interactive way. I know the dress-up game idea may look childish and unsophisticated, but I was kinda hoping that we can just make certain adjustments so that it could match Hearte’s classy and simplistic style. We can have base models in different body types and skin tones to show our brand’s diversity, then we can have shoppers try dressing them up using the outfits on our current collection. That allows them to easily visualize how the pieces would look on a certain skin tone and body type.”

The way everyone else in that conference table looked at Nobara was very obvious that they were expecting you to reprimand her for even having the guts to offer such a farcical idea. What does she know? They were probably thinking that. You’re just an intern. You knew they were saying that in their minds. On the other hand, you surprisingly liked her proposal and enjoyed the unique idea of introducing it to the website because her proposal actually did make sense. People would be curious, people would try it out by interacting with the website, and that means the engagement would rise up.

“I like that idea. We can go with that,” you said, sliding the laptop back to her while nodding at the marketing and social media managers, “I need the team to discuss Nobara’s idea further and polish it thoroughly before we can start adding it onto the website. Make adjustments as needed and ensure that everything is still in line with our brand. If you notice any flaws with this proposal, you can flag them with me and I’ll review them.”

9:54 AM.

Just as you were about to wrap up the meeting, a certain someone entered the conference room in haste—panting out of breath with her long, wavy hair and creased red pants. “I’m so sorry, I’m late.”

Her casualness made you clench your jaws tightly, fueling the fire to your already terrible day. You could no longer stop yourself from unleashing your rage as you looked up at her with a critical squint. “Ms. Hirai, what time’s it?”

“It’s ten, I know. I’m so sorry,” she repeated her apologies and paid an apologetic bow to everyone in the meeting room, “I’m sorry, everyone. I was caught up in heavy traffic today.”

You let out a silent scoff and ignored her compunctious act. “How long are we gonna keep using that excuse, really?” you questioned her, earning the intrigued eyes of your employees who were all sensing the sudden tension between you and your best friend, “As the fashion merchandiser and my second-in-command, you should’ve been here in this meeting with me, but where were you? You anticipated that there would be heavy traffic, yet you couldn’t be responsible enough in coming to work early knowing that we have a meeting? Or was it because you’re too busy doing other things so you’re no longer interested in showing up to work on time?”

Akemi shook her head, contritely. “It’s… It’s not like that.”

“Not like what?” Your icy stare bored into her. No trace of compassion was present in your eyes. “I’m sure you’re living a very blissful life outside of work and I’m glad you are, but is that also why you don’t bother with anything else anymore?”

“Y/N—”

“Miss Y/N,” you corrected, “I’m your boss, so treat me like one.”

Wide, chocolate brown eyes greeted you in response. It was clear that she was at a loss of words and could only repeat her meaningless apologies a thousand times. “I’m really sorry, Ms. Y/N. It won’t happen again.”

“You didn’t even let me know that you’ll be coming in late,” you continued and ignored the pitiful expression on her face, focusing on her swollen red lips and her dewy, rosy cheeks. She must have had a really good morning to look like a cherry blossom on a spring day. Was she so preoccupied being all lovey dovey with your ex-husband this morning? Did she sleep comfortably on the same marital bed you used to share with him? Your jaw tensed visibly. “You’re just coming in whenever you want. You don’t respect people’s time. You don’t respect my rules. You don’t respect me.”

Yes, you were overreacting by taking things too personally and it was the reason why you got up from your seat and bolted out of the conference room upon realizing your unusual outburst. You could hear the clicking sound of your stiletto echoing across the corridor as you stomped towards your office, swinging the glass door open and heading straight towards the ceiling-to-floor window to have some peace of mind. Peace? How ridiculous. How could you find peace? You couldn’t even grasp the fact that your best friend was acting like everything was normal. You couldn’t understand why she was rubbing her relationship to your face as if she wasn’t just a placeholder to somebody’s ex wife.

“Y/N?” Akemi’s voice cut you out of your toxic trail of thoughts—your mouth thinning with displeasure while you didn’t bother turning around to meet her gaze. Breathe. You had to breathe and think rationally. “I…I understand you’re really angry right now, but I was hoping we can have this much needed talk.”

You could feel her reaching for your hand at the height of your frustration and your defensive instinct led you to angrily swing your arm away, accidentally hitting her cheek as you pivoted on your heel to face her. It took two seconds for your eyes to shift from glaring in frustration to widening in surprise after seeing the small cut your diamond ring left on her cheek. “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah, no, it’s fine,” she insisted with her palm pressed onto the right side of her face. “I deserved it.”

Good lord. What was happening to you? Despite having all these unspoken rage and unresolved conflicts between the two of you, you would still drop everything and be concerned for her. You would still let your walls collapse. You were the villain that couldn’t stick to being a villain. Why? Why did you feel this way? Was it because you knew she wasn’t technically doing anything wrong? Or was it because you were just projecting your personal frustrations onto her? Was betrayal really the issue here? Or was it the huge possibility that she could in fact be Gojou’s one true love? You had thought of this before, but the same questions in your head never stopped. And never did they stop from invading your headspace as you made your way towards the small fridge to grab an ice pack that you soon offered to Akemi, leading her to one of the couches while finally coming into your senses.

Yet there was silence and nothing but awkward silence when you two sat at a safe distance from each other.

“I’m shameless.” She was the first one to break the uncomfortable atmosphere. “I know you’re thinking that and I do agree with you. I really am shameless to even look you in the eye right now.”

You sighed and looked away, only to keep yourself from the furnace of pain that you had been bottling inside. “Stop. You’re making me seem like a villain right now. I’m tired of seeing myself this way.”

She closed her legs and sat humbly, reaching forward to squeeze your hand. “You’re not. You’re not a villain and you never were,” said the same woman you accidentally smacked a few minutes ago, “I understand why you would feel a certain way towards me. I’d even understand if you hate me so much that you wanna murder me. I’m your best friend and I know about your history with Satoru, yet here I am seeing your ex-husband behind your back. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t plan it. I truly didn’t. Even though you’re not together anymore and I’m technically not homewrecking anyone, I’m still putting us—you and I—in a really awkward position. You didn’t deserve any of that and I’m very sorry.”

At least, she was self-aware. But looking at the brighter side of things, you were getting calmer now that you were hearing her side of the story, though that didn’t stop you from feeling any less horrible. “I don’t really care who you date,” you claimed, adamantly, “And I most definitely do not care who Satoru chooses to date. We’ve been divorced for three years.”

“It’s still not right that I’m seeing him.” She let her guilt speak up for her.

And you let your resentment speak for you. “Then, why him of all people?”

“It’s…”

“Complicated?”

“Y-Yeah…”

You decided to keep a straight face. “How did this happen?”

Akemi looked as if you had just forced her to be on the hot seat because of the apathy on your visage. “It was a drunken mistake at first and we kinda just…”

“I’m not asking about when you two started fucking,” you replied, bluntly. Something you had never done before in your usual sophisticated vocabulary. “I’m asking when you realized you have feelings for him. When did you fall in love with him?”

She had trouble finding the right answer. “It just happened. I d-don’t really know. Whenever you asked me to look after him, I guess the bond he and I developed from that made me see him in a different light.”

You disregarded the pain in your chest and let the volcano explode on its own, because her answer only meant that she was already growing feelings for your ex-husband at the same time you were confiding to her about him. That was the worst part of it all.

“Why do you like him?” you questioned further, “Despite knowing what happened while I was married to him, why did you still end up falling in love with him? If that’s so hard to answer, then don’t think about us or me or our friendship. Just think about the decisions you made for yourself. Why are you with Satoru?”

Her gaze found the floor. Hesitance. Guilt. Shame. Those emotions were all dancing in her eyes in a complete roundabout. While she took a moment to fully reassess her decision, you weren’t sure if you deserved to still feel hurt when she gave you an honest answer. “When I met Satoru, I didn’t meet the toxic, cheating ex-husband that he was known for,” she said, slowly, “I met a man who holds such a high respect for his ex-wife, adores his son like his greatest gift of all, and values his marriage more than anything else in this world. I met a vulnerable man who isn’t afraid to open his heart to strangers. A man who gave me emotional support even when he’s the one who needed it the most. I… It’s hard to explain, but…”

Was there really anything left to say? Her point was clear, and your silence while she was speaking was more so because you were trying not to let the tiny pricks in your heart affect you further than it already did. The fullness of her voice and the way her eyes shined when she talked about him were enough to tell you that your best friend had truly fallen in love and you would be cruel to take that away from her. Even from him. They would not have been involved in such an intimate relationship if there had been no attraction between them to begin with, so then… Why did it feel like you were being cheated on? She was no Sera, and he was not the Satoru that only used you for his corporate ambitions. It was just Akemi and Satoru—they were each other’s right person at the right time. The only thing blocking their path to a loving relationship was you.

You. The irrational and spiteful ex-wife. The ex-wife who always played the ‘victim card’. The selfish ex-wife who wanted all the good things to only come her way.

Well, god be damned, because you were beginning to confuse yourself with the version of you that wasn’t even remotely like you at all. She was just a mirrored image of yourself that you thought people perceived.

“You can do what you want.” The moment you spoke again, you were already creating a huge wall between you and your best friend, making sure that there were boundaries that none of you should ever cross now that she had chosen to be with someone you had sincerely loved in the past. It may sound like you were letting go, but truth be told, you just didn’t think that you even had the option to hold onto anything. Satoru wasn’t yours and you weren’t his anymore. You were two individuals living separate lives. “If you wanna be with him, that’s your choice. I don’t plan on intervening. It just… just really surprised me that you didn’t have the decency to tell me at all.”

Akemi nodded, apologetically desperate. “I understand how you’re feeling and I’m sorry. I really, truly am sorry, Y/N.” Her voice and her countenance did show the genuineness in her plea to be forgiven, but you were too numb to feel anything else. “I hope we can stay friends despite everything.”

How could you even stay friends in a situation like this?

First option was to keep pretending that their relationship wasn’t bothering you. Second option was to focus on your own relationship with Toji to the point where everything else just didn’t matter anymore.

Yeah, you thought. You could certainly choose the latter.

“Our friendship isn’t my top priority at the moment,” was your straightforward response to her, “I wanna focus on my son and his relationship with his father. That’s all.”

Any regular person would have thought: ‘Wow, Y/N. You handled that well.’ ‘You’re so mature.’ ‘You’re a lot calmer than we expected.’ The thing was, you really did think that you had been way too calm about it. In spite of the scene you caused at the conference room, or the dramatic exchange you had with Akemi in your office, you still handled it much better than one would think. In TV shows or movies, the ex-wife would have dragged the best friend to the ground, slapped her face, pulled her hair, started a nasty catfight, and called her all the terrible labels you could think of. Look, part of you wanted to do that. And the other part of you—the sympathetic, altruistic part of you—thought you shouldn’t do that. You would only look pathetic.

Of all the negative things Satoru had made you feel over the course of your failure of a marriage, this aftermath was probably the toughest.

You just weren't in the right state of mind to justify why.

You also couldn’t justify why you had been looking for unhealthy ways to cope with stress and anxiety. If anyone from your family saw you standing at the smoking area near the parking lot right now, they would have given you an earful of how you must be out of your mind for even putting a cigarette stick between your lips. How exactly could tobacco be good for you? You would say, first of all, that nicotine does in fact cause pleasant feelings to distract you from unpleasant ones. You couldn’t find any other way to relax your mind any faster than one cigarette stick could. Besides, staying in the office and seeing Akemi around was getting too suffocating and you couldn’t afford to have your negative mood lingering in your mind for the rest of the day. One stick wouldn’t hurt. Another one wouldn’t, too. And another one should be fine, right?

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The irony. You didn’t even have the time to recoil before the main cause of your stress showed up in front of you, frowning after he snatched the cigarette stick out of your lips. He was quick to throw it to the ground, stomp on it like he would do with your heart, and give you a questioning look that made you scoff at the ridiculousness of this situation. This could be a dream for heaven’s sake. Or a hallucination. There was no way Satoru Gojou would be standing right in front of you just as you were thinking about him.

“Since when have you been doing this?” he questioned again, holding your wrist this time to make you realize that his presence or this interaction wasn’t just a figment of your imagination. It would have been better that way, but the reality was, Satoru was there and he wasn’t the least bit pleased. “I know you’re mad at me and this isn’t the right time for me to chew you out like this, but…” he paused, taking your cigarette pack. “I can’t believe you’re fucking smoking right now, Y/N. Did you get this habit from Toji?”

Okay. Gojou could be way out-of-line sometimes, but this was the apex of it.

“Don’t bring Toji into this,” you snapped back, shooting him a glare that could easily kill. “What are you doing here?”

You could see how deep his inhale was just by the loudness of his sigh after it. His face showed a combination of yearning, regret, frustration, and pity as if he was deciding which emotion should dominate him more. But among the multitude of emotions that were drowning him right now like a tidal wave, he looked all the more exhausted. Whether it was dealing with you, trying to make amends with you, or simply being around you—you could tell that he wanted to drop his constant need to care for you because it was beginning to tire him out.

He didn’t really answer your question, and instead, asked one of his own. “Are you smoking because of stress?” he asked, trying to mask the sympathy in his eyes. “It’s bad for you. Set a good example for Sachiro.”

You’re bad for me, you wanted to say. Why did it even matter to him, anyway? You were nothing more than just a mother to his child. Anything outside that role was completely not his business anymore. The fact that he was even within the vicinity of your office was ridiculous, because you were already having a bad day and his presence was adding further into it. “Don’t you dare talk about setting a good example to my son like you’re so righteous yourself.”

“Y/N, come on.” He reached for your hand once more as if trying to show how much he cared or how worried he was with what you were doing to yourself because of him. “I don’t want you to—”

“Keep your fucking distance, Gojou. You’re not in the place to give a damn about me anymore,” you raged, withdrawing your wrist and breathing heavily as you tried to keep yourself from further exploding. You would have. You were so close to cursing him off, but you saw the flash of pure shock in his eyes, and that was how you realized what you just did. All these violent reactions, these unusual outbursts—these were not you. This was not the meek, soft-spoken ex-wife that he was once married to.

“Toru?”

Unfortunately, Gojou no longer had enough attention span to listen when he looked away, only to turn to his new woman with a genuinely worried expression painted on his face as soon as he saw her coming out of the building with a hand on her cheek. You realized that he was actually here to pick her up and was doing everything that a caring boyfriend would; checking every inch of her face to see how bad she was hurt and asking her what happened and whether she was okay. You didn’t know how to react the moment he turned back to you with his tired, yet passively accusatory eyes. “Did something happen?”

You knew that his question actually translated to: ‘Did you slap her?’ With your thorough knowledge about his acquired trauma from physical violence, you felt the sudden need to clear your name, but you didn’t know if you should be grateful that it was already your best friend who did the part in doing such. “Nothing happened. It was an accident.” Her tone was almost begging before she started tugging his arm. “Let’s just go, please.”

Satoru didn’t want to let it go, but decided that it was best to just leave it be as he glanced at you with a slightly detached gaze. “I’ll see you in a couple of days,” he reminded, referring to the dreaded New York trip together with Sachiro.

A conflicted look from him and an apologetic gaze from her. That was all that you received before they got inside the car and left you alone and miserable in that parking lot. You watched his car fade into view with her on the passenger seat and him probably holding her hand as he drove through the street. Just when you thought you could actually stomach the sight of him and her together, it would be a big fat lie to say that it didn’t sting. It stung worse than the times he ran after Sera than to stay behind with you. Worse than when he used to treat you like a mistress rather than a wife.

You must be going crazy, indeed. Who in their right mind would cry over her ex-husband in the middle of the parking lot? Why would you even shed tears when you were the one who wanted him to find someone else and move on? This was becoming a never-ending loop because you were letting yourself be affected by it. It shouldn’t be that way. Never.

“Toji.” You were doing your hardest to conceal the weakness in your voice as you pressed your phone into your right ear. “I-I need you… right now. Please.”

“Hey, I was just about to pick-up Sachi from daycare. Is everything okay?”

Wiping your eyes, you looked at the dull skies wondering if the universe was trying to reflect all these emotions running inside of you. “Yeah… Can you come soon?”

He didn’t really hesitate to answer, quickly understanding that he had to drop everything else right now and be with you. “Alright, I’ll be there.”

Satoru was conflicted, but he didn’t know what exactly made him feel that way. Was it because he saw you smoking in the parking lot? Or was it because he could tell that you gave Akemi a tongue-lashing after catching her half-naked at the penthouse a few days ago? Either way, both options were not very you. And he couldn’t understand why you were slowly starting to look less and less like the person he knew, which was confusing on his part because you had been adamant on telling him to forget about you. You were rigid on your decision to not let him enter your life as your husband for the second time around. He told you he still loved you, but you said you loved another. He told you he wanted to work things out and make your family complete again, but you said you were already doing that with someone else. Gojou knew his hands weren’t clean and the reason you may be acting that way was because out of all the women he could have been with, it had to be Akemi Hirai. Your best friend. Your confidante. Your business partner. She was a territory he shouldn’t have crossed, yet he did.

But, at the same time, she was the only person who had been there for him during his lowest. She was the company he needed when his heart was the loneliest. He couldn’t even remember the amount of times she came to his aid when he was crying over his memories of you, memories that he could no longer hold onto. Akemi brought peace to his heart, and if there was anyone else he could be with, it would be her.

It was becoming more and more clear to him how he felt about her.

Although, voicing that out loud was a different story. Keeping it in his thoughts was for the best because he didn’t want to lead Akemi on. She didn’t deserve that nor did she deserve to feel like a substitute for someone else. He wanted to be a hundred percent sure about being with her before he could fully confess his real feelings for her. It could still develop through time, perhaps far better and more passionate than what he was sharing with her right now, but until then, settling for what they had at this moment in time was for the better. What was important was that both parties were clear about diving into this relationship.

He wasn’t ready for commitment and she understood that. She was willing to wait for him. She was helping him move on in the least painful way. Where else could he meet such a person like her?

She was gentle, motherly, sensitive, and intuitive. She was classy and sophisticated. She knew how to dress nicely. Her nails were always clean and pretty. Her smile was very charming. Her laugh, endearing. She was the perfect woman anyone could have.

“Why’d you suddenly want to go to the mall?” she asked, intertwining their hands together as she looked up at him with her beautiful doe eyes. Her question made him cut out of his trance, remembering that they were strolling around the galleria.

He touched the small wound on her cheek as if stroking it could make it heal faster. “Nothing,” he said. “Just a last minute idea.”

Truthfully, Gojou wasn’t sure why he had brought her there. All he knew was that he had a lot going on in his mind while he was driving through the city and the next thing he knew, he was already pulling up at the galleria out of his natural instinct. But since they were already there, he might as well buy her a little something. Anything. And then his eyes caught sight of Chanel as if the high-end boutique was pulling his feet with such gravity that it led him to go inside the store while hand-in-hand with the woman next to him.

“Mr. Gojou, how are you?”

Right. The staff knew him so well, especially for the amount of times he had been there with his ex-wife when you two were still married.

“Are you looking for anything specific?” One of the familiar ladies that used to assist you approached him with a lingering stare towards Akemi. “Perhaps for your…?”

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, can you… uh,” he turned towards the rack of tweed sets, “Do you have any new collections?”

“Yes, absolutely,” said another lady, “Right this way, sir.”

It was easy to notice how the staff were exchanging glances at the sight of Satoru and Akemi together, but his mind was far too distracted by the nostalgia of being in that place alone to even care about his surroundings. All he did was look back at Akemi and encourage her to try out the newest collections that they had, thinking that she was oblivious about what was going through his head. “You go and pick whatever you like.”

Although she was clearly not used to it, Akemi did eventually try on some of the outfits he specifically had chosen for her. They were Chanel’s signature tweed sets that he always found to be very elegant, and he definitely wasn’t wrong that they would suit her when she came out of the dressing room to show him how the clothes wrapped her small frame perfectly.

He could see your smile through her face, your excitement when you tried the outfits on, and the shine in your eyes when you looked at yourself in the mirror. Except, Gojou had to remind himself that you weren’t her. That his mind was just messing with him.

No, this was wrong. Why was he thinking about you while he was with her?

He had to have some sort of distraction. Something so tangible that all of his senses would go numb.

The one way he was able to overcome that dilemma was by sharing yet another steamy exchange with Akemi later that night. He couldn’t remember who initiated first, but it must have been the equal desire that they had for each other when they dove straight into a heated makeout session the moment they stepped inside his bedroom. One thing led to another. First he was kissing her lips, then her collarbones, then her inner thighs—devouring her completely with his lust-driven actions, doing the most by pleasuring her body using his own.

She was a giver just as she was a receiver. Not that he didn’t expect her to be so experienced when it came to sex, but she definitely knew what she was doing without any guidance from him. Perhaps he just wasn’t used to it anymore. Perhaps he had just forgotten how it felt to have sex with someone who didn’t rely on him to initiate the next steps they should do. Fuck, he couldn’t even remember the last time someone stared at his eyes while putting his hardened member inside her mouth the way she did. She knew her power over him while at his most vulnerable state, ruining his masculine ego and destroying it with her own feminine pride.

And in the midst of their intimate session, Gojou was zoning out while he was sliding a condom across his shaft, ready to enter her from the back. His mind was giving him a flash of memory, not a distant but recent one from two days ago.

“I still can’t believe you did that, Mom. You’re being ridiculous.”

His mother wasn’t exactly showing the slightest hint of regret on her face despite knowing full well that sending the custody claim almost made you lose your mind. She was keeping a straight face as she sat on the barstool next to him, taking a sip of wine from her glass while he, on his own, was downing a glass of scotch. “She had it coming.”

Satoru sighed his frustration away. “Don’t do that again or today’s the last time you’ll ever see me.”

“What are you talking about?” His mother frowned. “Who was there for you when you were trying to end your own life because of the lies she told you, huh? You’re feeling bad for her now, but did she feel bad for you back then? You missed three years of your son’s life because she was being too spiteful towards you.”

He had never met someone more stubborn than his own mother, but maybe this was a clear sign for Satoru to realize where he must have acquired that one similar trait of his. After all, people always made it seem that he was more like his dad even though he despised being compared to his father. To say that his mother was a complete angel was a lie. But neither was he. “Whatever, just don’t… Just leave Y/N alone. She’s still the mother of my child and I don’t want us to keep fighting. At least, for Sachi’s sake.”

His mother finished her glass of wine before turning the stool towards his direction. There was a minute of silence that passed between them before she spoke again. “I just don’t want you to get back with her, darling. You two are toxic together.”

Funny, because he could say the same thing for her and his father. “Well, it’s not gonna happen now. Y/N’s gonna hate me forever.”

“What, ‘cause she rejected you again?”

“No,” he countered, shaking his head and chugging all the remaining liquor on his glass. “She knows about the thing I have with Akemi now.”

Her mouth fell open, gasping as she did so. “Y-You… and Akemi? Are you together?”

Satoru expected this reaction from her, but didn’t think she would actually be more fixated on his new relationship than the effect it would bring on her ex-daughter-in-law. “It’s not something to be proud of, Mom.”

“Well, I’m proud of you,” she still stressed that fact, “It’s nice to hear that you’re finally moving on, Satoru. Y/N is not good for you, but I know Akemi will be. I like her and I know she’ll make you a lot happier than Y/N ever did.”

“You’re still awake?” Gojou let out a yawn as he felt the heaviness of his eyelids telling him that it was time to sleep. He tried checking the time on his phone, but realized that he still had the photo of you and Sachiro as his lockscreen. He wasn’t planning on changing it anytime soon, but considering that Akemi saw it, he was expecting that she would have something to say, yet nothing came out of her mouth. She simply stayed silent while laying on his chest, letting him touch the slope of her naked back as she slightly raised her head to meet his eyes. He had already closed his phone and placed it back on the nightstand. “What, did I not tire you enough?”

“Shut up.” She hid her reddened cheeks and smiled on the crook of his neck. Her hand was placed on his chest, fingers tracing his collarbones. “No, I’m just thinking about how you’re gonna manage New York and all.”

Satoru’s breathing was still for a few seconds, keeping his eyes glued on the ceiling as he held her on your marital bed. “You’re scared that the infamous cheater is gonna cheat on you or something?” he joked, a distasteful one, but still meant to ease whatever was burdening her mind. “Not gonna happen even if we’re in an open relationship.”

“That’s not it,” Akemi quickly replied, denying his claims, “I’m more like hoping that you’ll be patient with her. She gets angry a lot these days and we know we’re the main cause of it, so please. Please don’t try to argue with her, okay? If she says hurtful things, learn to understand her.”

He wrapped his arms tighter around her smaller frame. Gojou was certain that he was about to doze off soon now that he had closed his eyes and let the exhaustion pull him into a good night’s sleep. “I won’t,” he spoke his words slowly, drifting off to dreamland, “I won’t make her angry.”

“Okay.” He felt her lips kissing his jaw just before the both of them gradually matched the calmness of each other’s chest. One heart, one soul, two bodies. “Good night, ‘Toru.”

…

In the middle of his sleep, he mumbled, “Good night, Y/N.”

On the other side of the city, you woke up in the middle of your slumber, facing the handsome face of your fiancé, Toji Zen’in, who had already drifted off to dreamland while holding you in his muscular arms. No wonder people were jealous of you for having such a refined man like him in your bed every night you go to sleep. The thing was, you had no reason to feel discontented with your life since you already had everything. You were wealthier than the average person, you ran a business that you were passionate about, you had an adorable son who meant the world to you, and you had Toji. There was nothing else you could ask for. And if by remembering Sera’s words back then, you would be selfish to ask for anything more because others didn’t even have half the fortune you had.

So, in that sense, you should be happy.

You had to be happy.

You were happy, right?

“Go to sleep,” whispered a half-awake Toji, stirring from his sleep as he held your waist tighter like you were his comfort pillow. “You alright?”

Sighing inwardly, you traced the scar on his lips. “You’re so gorgeous.”

His lazy, boyish smile came into view. “I know that,” he joked, closing his eyes as if succumbing into a few more minutes of sleep. “Don’t tell me you’re turned on right now ‘cause I can go all night. Doggy. Missionary. Cowboy. Reverse cowboy.”

Were you? Maybe a little. And maybe you had to have a distraction from your ‘source of happiness’.

“That’s very naughty of you, Mr. Zen’in,” you replied, cheeks heating up from his vulgar words. Your hand was finding its way to his toned chest, while his were traveling to the curves of your waist and hips. You could feel him angling his body to make sure he had access to slide your underwear just a little above your knee, gliding his hand along your thigh before letting his fingers touch your sensitive bud. “T-Toji—”

A smirk appeared on his lips. “Hm? I thought you wanted this?”

You nodded, taking a deep breath. “Y-Yeah, I…” There was no use holding back from moaning because his fingers knew how to move perfectly well, playing with your clit in circular motions before sliding two of them into your entrance. “...Fuck.”

“Feel good?” His hot breath tickled your neck, moving his mouth from your collarbones down to the valley between your breasts. “Wish you knew how delicious you are.”

Another moan, much louder this time around, escaped your lips when he attached his mouth onto your breast, sucking the round mass with his tongue doing God’s work. You were so high into sexual desire that your back arched on its own, dominated by the pleasing sensation all over your body. You could barely even respond to him when he started asking why your mood had been so down when he picked you up after work or why you still wouldn’t tell him whatever happened back there.

“It’s nothing,” you replied, disregarding the painful encounter you’ve had with your ex-husband and your best friend. “...Just work stuff.”

As you closed your eyes, you could feel Satoru’s fingers entering deep inside of you, deep enough to have reached your g-spot and have you moaning wildly. It felt unreal. It felt goddamn out of this world. But since Satoru was familiar with every inch of your body, his touch alone could easily send you to seventh heaven. He was heavenly. He was saintly. That mesmerizing gaze of his paired with his sky blue eyes and messy white hair. His beautiful, beautiful face, watching you beg for him to do more. More. More…

“Satoru…”

The intense feeling suddenly stopped, awakening you back to your senses as you opened your eyes and saw the dark, animalistic gaze of Toji Zen’in. “What’d you say?” he asked in a deep voice.

Out of panic, you slightly pulled away and shook your head. “N-Nothing. What did I say?”

“I thought I heard you say his…” he trailed off, pulling his fingers out of you and instead, placing a tight grip on your hip. “Did you?”

“No, no. Not at all.” Your voice came in a hushed tone, looking at his eyes intently. “Why would I do that?”

He let out an exasperated sigh, falling back into the bed with one arm under his head. “Don’t play games with me, Y/N.”

Desperation led you to climb on top of him, sitting on his crotch before encasing your lips with his soft ones. “I’m not,” you mumbled, kissing him again. “I never did. I promise.”

Yet, despite your attempts at inviting him for an open-mouthed kiss, he had already lost the interest to engage in sexual activities with you. He didn’t say anything nor tried to argue about the shit that you said, but he did stay silent for a couple of minutes, simply holding you on top of him without another word to utter. It scared you to think what was going through Toji’s mind, but this was also all your fault. Why, in the first place, did you even let your mind imagine that white-haired toxic ex-husband of yours when you had Toji Zen’in in front you?

Perhaps in this relationship, you were the toxic one.

You were the poison that could kill the life out of the man who only wanted to love and heal you.

“Toji, I’m sorry…”

He held his breath. “Should I be concerned that you’re going on a trip with him?”

“No, it’s…” Pulling away, you gave him a look of combined sincerity and denial. “We’re just gonna fix Sachiro’s papers, you know that. We won’t even be staying in the same room.”

Fixing Sachiro’s papers. Dealing with his dual citizenship. Changing his last name to Gojou. Solidifying your son’s identity as the son of Satoru Gojou. That’s all there is to it. All the technical matters.

“Is he staying at a hotel or are you letting him stay at your apartment in Manhattan?” he asked, although there was no hint of suspicion in his voice. Or at least, he must be good at hiding it.

You chose to be honest. “I have to let him stay at my apartment,” was your answer, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Only because Sachi wants his dad around all the time. We’re just trying our best to co-parent.”

Toji’s dry humor took over. “You sure you’re not gonna let him fuck you senseless?” His tone was laced with resentment. “And then you’ll come home to me crying about how he got you pregnant for the second time. You’d better kiss our marriage goodbye if that happens.”

“What kind of person do you think I am?” you retorted, annoyed by his word of choice as if you were a cheating scumbag. “If he’s gonna get someone pregnant, that won’t be me.”

His eyes sparked with curiosity. “What do you mean?”

Deciding between telling and not telling, you figured that the latter would only cause more drama to bounce back at you like a boomerang. “He’s with Akemi.”

It looked like Toji didn’t hear it right. “Akemi? How’d that happen?”

“I don’t know what kinda relationship they have, okay?” you snapped, no longer wanting to keep up with this topic further. “I just caught them. They said they’re seeing each other, but it’s complicated or whatever—I don’t really give a damn. But he’s with her is all I know.”

Toji went silent for a few minutes, unable to determine whether he should find the situation pitiful or humorous. One thing for sure though, was that he found it unbelievable. “That son of a bitch,” he muttered under his breath, smiling in disbelief, “So this is what’s ruining your mood these days, huh?”

Your eyebrows furrowed in response. “It’s not.”

“Your ex-husband slept with your best friend. Yeah, I’d be mad, too.” His comment wasn’t really meant to irk you, but he successfully did so. Minus the intention. “Getting mad is understandable, getting jealous is questionable. Which one are you?”

Fuck it. “I said I’m not jealous. Will you stop now?” You sunk yourself under the covers, turning your back on Toji. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Now that he knew and you saw his reaction, you wondered what it would be like if Gen and Ian knew. Or if your dad knew. What would they think of Satoru? What would they think of Akemi? No, nevermind that. What would they think of you? Another fool in a deck of cards? Another game that was played with?

You didn’t want to know.

Ideally, you and Satoru really shouldn’t have gone to this New York trip together as if your family was still intact, because as much as you wished that that was true, you were far from that. You were only playing house for the sake of your son, but that also meant putting you in a painfully awkward situation together as ex-spouses. He had a girlfriend back home and you had a loving and loyal fiancé who proved the whole word that he was loyal to you. And although your respective partners were supporting the whole co-parenting situation, you knew by yourselves that this was nowhere to near to being comfortable for them, too.

“Everything okay?” You heard the familiar voice of your past, only to see his dull, blue eyes taking a peek at you.

“Yeah,” you replied, almost inaudibly. You just boarded the plane while Satoru was talking to the pilot, and found your spot on one of the beds in his private jet. It took a few minutes for him to get to where you were now. “Why?”

He shrugged, eyeing a sleepy Sachiro next to you. “Just wanna make sure you and Sachi are comfortable.”

You didn’t know what else to say, so you just looked back at your peaceful son who was hugging his elmo plush like the cute angel he was. Even though he was growing so fast, you could still remember how he was just as small as a puppy in your arms when he was first born. The memory of it caused you to press your lips on his forehead, caressing his soft, white hair. At some point while observing the scene, your son’s father thought it would be a good idea to slide the blanket further up your shoulders, acting as though he was only doing it to keep Sachiro warm. And later, he sat on the reclined airplane seat, drinking the coffee that was served to him by the stewardess.

It was crazy.

Crazy that Toji could be lying next to you and you would feel nothing. But Gojou was meters away from you and your mind was on a never-ending race.

Just before noon, the airplane landed safely at JFK airport and Satoru’s driver took you straight to Central Park Towers, treated like a V.I.P. by security just because your ex-husband was Japan’s third richest person and second most influential businessman. At times like these, you would almost forget the power Satoru held even before he was the chairman. You two were almost royalty. Now that he was leading the Gojou Group, his reputation only grew more despite the scandal of your broken marriage. He knew not to share his relationship publicly anymore nor did he expose Sachiro to any of his social media. It was a mutual decision for you to keep your son away from the spotlight knowing the scrutiny and the lack of privacy that would enter your lives once again—all the unnecessary noise, the unwanted comments, the unruly attention. Besides, for safety reasons, Sachiro had to be hidden from the public since he would become the sole heir to his father’s conglomerate, inheriting his parents combined assets that could one day make him the richest and most sought after bachelor in Japan.

“Mamaaa!” A lively Sachi came running to you as soon as he entered the lobby of the apartment suites, his father following him behind.

“Careful, baby!” you said, standing at the lobby while talking to your housekeeper, “You might trip.”

Satoru decided to carry his son after noticing your worried expression and immediately walked towards you. He was all smiles as he looked at Sachiro’s cheerful blue eyes. “He seems a little excited, isn’t he?”

“He lived here for almost three years,” you answered, signaling a quick ‘thank you’ to your housekeeper before guiding your boys to the elevator. “He must’ve missed the place. Did you, Sachi?”

“Yes, mama~”

It was a little bittersweet for your ex-husband, though. Especially the moment he stepped inside the apartment, looking at every corner and realizing that it was the same place you had lived in back when he was suffering from emotional distress on the other side of the world. This apartment was where his own child grew up in and he had no idea he had even existen then. Not only did that make you a terrible ex-wife, but it also made you a heartless mother. You had separated them and now you were taking him to the place where you had his son hidden from him.

That wasn’t your intention. That was never your intention.

“I’m glad you chose a nice place,” he complimented, acting as casual as possible. “Does your father own this place or?”

“Gen loaned it to me,” you said, holding Sachiro’s hand while letting Satoru follow you closely. You stopped at one of the guest rooms and urged the tall man to feel at home. “You can stay here for the meantime.”

“I don’t wanna make things uncomfortable for Akemi.” He looked away, avoiding your eyes. “I can just stay at a hotel—”

“Dada!” His mini-me tugged at his hand along with yours. You already knew that those puppy eyes would look back at the both of you. “Sachi wants Dada to stay.”

Frankly, you weren’t upset a while ago, but since he had to bring up Akemi and make it seem like her feelings were his priority, you lost all the will to be kind. Was their relationship that deep for him to act like such a loyal, righteous partner? Where was that same loyalty when he married you? “Do whatever.”

Noticing the tension between his parents, Sachiro’s eyes started to well up with tears and that was all it took for you two to completely focus your attention back to your 3-year old.

“Sachi…” Satoru tried to reach for his son, but you (spitefully) beat him to it.

“It’s okay, my baby. Don’t cry,” you comforted your son, picking him up and carrying him in your arms, “Daddy will still visit you every day even if he's staying at a hotel.”

Satoru, as guilty as ever, shook his head and wiped his son’s eyes. “No. I’ll stay here for Sachi, okay? Don’t cry anymore.”

It felt like hours sitting on that enormous sofa, staring at the television screen even though your mind was miles away. You had already texted Toji good night and reassured him that everything was fine, but you still couldn’t stop thinking about what he was doing back home. Sachiro had fallen asleep almost half an hour ago, and how you wished you could also enjoy your slumber while snuggling under those heated blankets, but how could you? How could you be comfortable in the presence of an ex-husband who was coming out of his room, freshly showered in his low-waisted sweatpants and tight-fitting black shirt? Not to mention how he was obviously flexing his arms while drying his mop of messy, white hair with a towel. Ridiculous. A little seductive, but definitely ridiculous.

“Still up?” His sky blue eyes met yours as soon as he looked up.

You adjusted your position on the sofa and leaned on the corner, pulling a small cushion to place above your thighs. “Can’t sleep.”

And the night went on just like that. You, sitting on the couch. Him, sitting on the other end as if going near you might suffocate him. It didn’t help that the silence was beginning to be too uncomfortable. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking of. Perhaps Akemi? Perhaps you? You doubted the latter.

“I think…” You cleared your throat to escape from the awkward tension. “I think I’m gonna go for a night swim. You can go to sleep next to Sachi tonight, just make sure not to wake him up.”

Satoru’s curious gaze trailed on you as you got up and tightened your robe. “It’s a little too late at night to go for a swim, no?”

You couldn’t even face him as you responded. “I need to clear my mind off some things.” And by things, you meant him and this whole mess of a situation that you had put yourselves together. Two divorcees staying in the same living space wasn’t exactly a brilliant idea to begin with.

“Want me to join you?” asked Satoru, and he himself could not believe he asked that question. He may have asked it out of his innate care for you, probably worried for no damn reason. What he didn’t realize was how wrong his suggestion was, especially that you two were dating other people now.

If only you were such a cruel person, how ironic would it be if you allowed Satoru Gojou to join you for a quick night swim?

How ironic would it be for you to feel each other’s warmth under the crystal pool, getting carried away by the romantic lights that lit the city?

How ironic would it be if the intense sexual tension ended with you doing things under the sheets, completely disregarding the fact that the both of you had respective partners who were overthinking this exact NYC trip?

How ironic would it be if, for once in your life, you became the cheater?

Thankfully, you didn’t have the mindset of a cheating person.

However, it was Satoru who took back his initial offer. “Never mind. Forget I even asked that,” he muttered, sounding annoyed more so to himself rather than at you.

You offered a nonchalant shrug. “Okay.”

And as you were heading to the poolside, you could sense Gojou’s presence behind even though he just very clearly rejected the idea of going on a swim with you. He was still the same confusing man that you married before. Only now, he was ten times worse. “Wait, Y/N.”

“What?” You turned around, annoyed at his push-and-pull behavior. At this point, you didn’t really care what he was thinking of anymore. All you did was to take off your robe, leaving yourself with only your underwear on before you slowly got down on the pool.

Gojou, on the other hand, was ridding himself of his shirt and sweatpants to join you in the pool with just his boxers on. What even was this situation? You two had that same question in your head despite swimming at the edge of the pool to stare at the cityscape. “I only asked to join you because I wanted to talk. That’s all.”

You wanted to laugh at how he was clearing his intentions to you.

“Why do you sound defensive around me?” He couldn’t see it, but you were rolling your eyes as you leaned against the pool coping. “I never knew Akemi would be the jealous type.”

Satoru looked surprised by your claim, seeming as though he didn’t recognize the kind of person you were anymore. You were never this unreasonably sarcastic nor acidic with your words during your marriage even at the height of his affair with Sera, yet you had just become the worst version of yourself. “She isn’t,” he muttered, finding his spot next to you, “But I don’t wanna give her a reason to be.”

You huffed. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. You make it sound like I’m gonna make a move on you or something.”

“I never said that.”

“You were thinking about it.”

“Says who?”

What is it about Satoru Gojou that makes him so irritating? Was it the way he talks? The way he thinks he’s always right? The way he acts like he’s such a clean person?

“Please,” you retorted, bitterly. “Toji isn’t comfortable having you around me, either. Just so you know.”

“Can we just—” There. His last string of patience finally snapped and his true colors came to show when he grabbed your wrist and made you face him. The spiteful Satoru. He was back, even just for a second. “Y/N, I’m not trying to argue with you here. I’m trying to talk to you like a civilized person. You’re the mother of my child and I respect you. I’d still care for you and will always protect you, but I want you to at least act like a fucking person around me. You’re a grown woman.”

Wasn’t it bad that he, of all people, was basically telling you to grow up? Memories of your marriage and all the back-and-forth arguments that you had with him flashed before your eyes. He should be the last one to say such a thing. “You’re the one who’s been crossing the fucking line with me since day one, Gojou. Don’t tell me to—”

“And do you wish I had just killed myself for you to forgive me?!” The ridges of his neck became prominent, making his anger much visible now. He was staring down at you intensely, backing you against the edge of the pool, trapping you in between his arms. “I’d have probably done that. But you…You did unforgivable things to me and look how easy it was for me to forgive you.”

You looked away, not trying to have this conversation again. Not trying to have your guilt eat your heart out. Maybe your behavior really had become too much and it was about time you take a step back and realize how ridiculous you had been acting because no way was this man trying to make a better point than you.

“I slept with Akemi, I know. She’s your best friend, I fucking know. But I never did that to get back at you,” his voice bore so much authority in them. “I begged on my knees just to be with you again. Swallowed my pride just for you to be my wife again!” His breathing became ragged. “But you chose to move on. You said you love Toji. You said you’d be happier without me, so why don’t I deserve to be happy without you?”

The inability to speak wasn’t because you were at a loss of words. The problem was choosing the right ones. Words that wouldn’t put you in a disadvantageous position. Words that wouldn’t make you look like an unreasonable person.

“You wished me well when you first found out about Akemi and I. You said you don’t care who I choose to date even if that choice is her,” he said, much calmer this time. He was placing his forehead against yours, body pressed against each other. “If that was true, then why are you still so angry with me?”

Your heart raced as you locked eyes with him. His eyes were the same kind of blue that reflected off of the surface of the pool. Anyone could easily get lost in it, but you knew where to place yourself in order not to. “I’m… not angry…”

“Baby, you and I both know that’s not true,” he said with a serious gaze, lifting your chin with his hand.

But you swatted it away, averting your eyes. “Don’t call me baby. You’re being ridiculous.”

With a loud sigh, Gojou gave up and simply placed his forehead on your shoulder, letting you feel the weight of his head and the warmth of his breath. “If you were still my wife, I’d have kissed you right now,” he declared, breathing heavily as if stopping with all of his will to do what he just said. “I’d touch every inch of you, tell you how much I love you, carry you back into that room, and make more beautiful babies with you…”

“Satoru,” you warned just as he pulled away, smiling despite the sorrow in his eyes.

“…But I won’t do that. I’m not gonna do that,” he claimed and sounded like he was convincing himself rather than clearing it up. “Akemi doesn’t deserve a partner who can’t move on from his ex-wife, so I’m doing my best to forget about you.”

Your breathing took a halt. You weren’t sure where those tiny pricks in your heart came from. Toji needed the same. He deserved a wife who wasn’t pining for her ex-husband. Satoru was just being true.

“Then, forget about me,” you gave a barely audible reply.

Gojou pulled away and kept his distance now, showing that he was indeed trying to stick to his words. “I will.”

Why did it hurt when it shouldn’t have?

“Good.”

He looked at you with eyes that carried a million emotions. But what was most visible was him seeing the light, probably realizing that he truly was doing the right thing and that he was proud of himself for being able to resist you. Because then, that only meant he was only a few steps away from the path of moving on. That if he could let you go, then he could live a better life.

It only made sense why he pulled that little stunt back there—being close enough to you was probably his way of differentiating how his body reacted to you versus how it reacted to Akemi. And now that he was able to determine whatever difference that might be, it would be easier for him to know what exactly to avoid.

After all, you two would be spending the rest of your lives as a present mom and dad to Sachiro. Co-parenting was your only connection and the only way to make that work without falling for each other was to rid yourselves of any kind of attraction towards one another.

Good for him.

“Let’s be good parents, Y/N.” Satoru looked at you from across the pool. “Let’s set a good example for Sachi and show that divorced parents can still be good parents. Let’s not be toxic to each other, especially not in front of him.” His words were coming from his personal experience and as you knew the whole history behind the mess within his family, you were truthfully considerate of his words. His traumatic experiences were what shaped him to become the problematic man you once married, and he was doing his best not to let his own son be the same. “I’ll provide Sachiro with everything he needs and I’ll always be present in his life, so please let me have as much time with him as possible. I’m making up for the three years I lost with him.”

You nodded. “I don’t have a problem with that.

As the established relationship you had with Gojou became more professional and strictly transactional, the distance between you two also grew more and more. There was no longer any space for love and intimacy. There was only familiarity and acquaintanceship.

“Go to sleep soon,” he said without sending another glance your way, climbing out of the pool and reaching for his clothes, “We have a long day tomorrow.”

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru angst #gojo angst #jjk angst

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cordeliawhohung · 5 months

Note

Going off of him calling reader his wife, Ps! Gaz whose highest rated video with his favorite girl is a "Honeymoon" night concept where it's basically a really romantic lovemaking video.

Their natural chemistry is perfect and the romance feels real; they even joke around a little and take things slow.

And that vid is what confirms for the fans that there's something going on between them that goes beyond the cameras.

- 🦴

part 237423849 of kore writing a drabble/one shot when she probably shouldn't have. not edited because my brain is fried? idk save me, pornstar!gaz, save me

It's late into the night when your phone screen illuminates your face.

A sleepless night quickly plagues you with a wandering mind that won't let go of the images that still haunt you from your last shoot with Kyle. The two of you have filmed countless times together, but there's something about this most recent one that refuses to let go of your mind. It overwhelms you so much that you've got your studio's porn site on your phone at nearly one in the morning.

Usually, you hate watching the videos you perform in. It crosses an odd sort of boundary in your mind that makes you feel disgusted with yourself, but you can't help but watch the one you filmed with Kyle titled "Honeymoon Getaway." Before the video even starts, you notice the ratings. Tens of thousands of people have watched the video already, and it was only edited and published five days ago. The ratings are all positive, thousands of thumbs ups and bookmarks.

Your teeth sink into your lip once the video starts. Both you and Kyle are dressed in your "wedding" attire; a well fitted suit with the jacket removed for him, and a white slip that covers your bridal lingerie for you. It's... sensual. The way he kisses you. And really fucking weird watching it from a third person perspective. You vividly remember his breath against your face and the way his hand caressed your cheek, but it's not what you're looking for, so you skip ahead.

When the video loads the next portion, Kyle's face is buried in your cunt. The angle they filmed it at is nothing compared to the view you had in real life. The way he kissed the side of your knee, keeping eye contact with you for as long as he could as he kissed all the way down your thigh until his tongue was on your clit… it’s a sensation that ghosts along the inside of your legs even as you lay there in bed.

But the video? Fuck, it’s terrible. Focusing more on the side view, obscuring his pretty face with your thigh. At this point, you’re ready to take the camera and film everything from a first person point of view next time you film with Kyle.

But that’s besides the point. You’re looking for something else.

Once again, you skip ahead and the sound of your laughter emanates from the speakers on your phone. Kyle, who had been hovering over your body, had quickly rolled you on top of him, switching your spots. It was done so effortlessly, and you try your best not to gawk at the way his muscles flex as you straddle him.

"Kyle," your voice whines over the speakers.

"Better view this way," is all he responds.

You hate it. Hate the way he makes your stomach churn just from a video alone. It almost churns worse than it did when you were really filming with him, pretending to be love-struck newlyweds fucking one another in an expensive hotel room.

You skip forward again, a significant distance this time, and Kyle has you pinned to the bed on your back. With his hands underneath your knees, you're nearly kissing them as he ruts into you. You try not to pay too much attention as the camera pans to a view of your cunt sucking him in like the good little wife you pretended to be.

Luckily, you're not stuck watching it for too long before the film shoots over Kyle's shoulders, showcasing the way your tits bounce at his relentless pace. You grimace when they zoom in, but it's not much longer before you finally find what you were searching for.

"My sweet wife. I love you so fuckin' much."

You sit up straight the moment you find it, and your fingers are scrambling to rewind so you can hear him again. The breathlessness of his voice, the lilt in his tone. It feels like gold on your ears, yet it has your heart shredding into pieces in your chest. It feels real. Too real.

But it can't last forever.

You pause the video, ceasing the sound of your moans and Kyle's fake confession. Everything spins around you when you look up from the screen and at the darkness of your room. Lonely. So fucking lonely and cold. You shake your head as you look back at your phone, and you decide to make the terrible mistake of sleuthing through the comments.

The idea of it all, was finding something that would turn you off so that you could forget it all and go back to sleep. And there were plenty of disgusting comments:

>> need a submissive wife like this

>> great tits

>> too soft with her. you need to learn to put your bitch in place the first night.

It should have been enough. You should have stopped there, but you don't. You can't stop scrolling, and scrolling, and scrolling. It's a vicious cycle that you can't stop, and you're stuck reading every single comment and speculation from anyone who still had living brain cells after jerking off to your video. Each and every one of them destroy you more than the last:

>> I feel like i'm ruining a special moment lmao

>> there's no way these two aren't together irl what the fuck

>> can't wait to see these two on OF together when they realize they don't want to fuck anyone else lol

>> nah, they really snuck in a whole crew on their actual honeymoon that's dedication

>> he sounds like he's about to cry when he says he loves her

You shut your phone off and fight the urge to toss it across the room as you slam yourself back against your mattress. All you want to do is sleep but your chest aches so furiously that it's all you can focus on. Everything feels so real with Kyle, and it's not fair that he's always out of your grasp. Always teasing you with the promise of fucking you off camera, of looking at you like you're the only woman in the world.

A tremble begins in your bottom lip as you shove your face into your pillow. Kyle Garrick is going to be the death of you, you're sure of it. Judging by the tears that soak your pillow that night, you know it's not going to be a kind death, either.

#pornstar!gaz #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader #gaz smut #kyle garrick smut #gaz x reader smut #kyle garrick x reader smut #kyle gaz garrick x reader #f!reader #🦴 anon

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starsofteal · 7 months

Text

Daylight

Halsin x Tav // Halsin x Reader

Summary: Tav misinterprets Halsin’s declarations, thinking he must not want her as much as she wants him. Can Halsin convince her of his love? A/N: Well, my first Halsin fic is here! Based off this dialogue from the game, featuring a classic miscommunication trope. When I first came across this dialogue, I found myself rather disappointed by Halsin’s declaration, and I realized I was focusing on all the wrong parts of it. I couldn’t get the idea out of my head, so here we have a scenario in which Tav has done the same. This fic is so self-indulgent it should be a crime. Warnings: Hurt/Comfort (emphasis on the comfort—I promise all’s well that ends well). Pretty spoiler free, except for the opening dialogue if you’re romancing Halsin and you want all that to be a surprise.

“Relationship?” A deep chuckle rumbles in Halsin’s chest. A sinking feeling settles into your gut. You weren’t sure what to expect when you broached the topic of a potential relationship, but a laugh? A direct blow from an enemy sword would have hurt less.

“Such terms belong to civilization—a little unfamiliar to my lips.” His words continued, but that soft smile, those kind eyes, the strong, steadfast shape of Halsin, it all begins to shift, distorting just slightly as traitorous tears prick at your eyes. A quick bite of your inner cheek reminds you to hold steady, to not let the tears fall—by every star in that gods damned sky, you are not going to let him see you cry.

“…you and I should each seek happiness wherever it lies…”

He’s still going on? You think to yourself. How long can one rejection take? You bite your cheek even harder, a coppery tang bursting on your tastebuds.

Halsin’s words echo in your mind, despite the fact that his monologue seems to continue, piercing your heart again and again, the pain stealing the breath from your lungs. You will yourself to take in another breath.

“Let others know the happiness of being with you.” Halsin smiles down on you, not an ounce of malice in those soft green eyes. The staunch difference between his kindhearted gaze and the red-hot pain radiating in your chest was nearly laughable. In fact, at that very moment, you were unsure if your next steps would include crying, laughing, or launching an all out assault on the mountain of a man before you—an action that would surely not work out in your favor given the comical size difference between you two.

In the end, it was all you could do to offer a small, meager, “I see.” It’s a notable effort to keep the emotion from your voice, but you’re proud of the attempt all the same.

A frown breaks out across Halsin’s face, his brows knitting together in confusion. “Have I said something wrong, my heart?”

Those two words are a slap to your face. You don’t trust yourself to speak, not again, so without a word you turn and make your way to your tent as fast as your feet can take you.

The fabric barely has time to fall in place behind you before the warm tears finally break free.

_________

Two days had passed since the incident. While you wanted nothing more than to mope about on your bedroll and avoid Halsin altogether, your situation doesn’t exactly allow for such luxuries.

Which is how you find yourself in the woods with Shadowheart, foraging for ingredients to top off your party’s supply of potions and tonics. Though you left early in the morning, the sun glares bright overhead now. Wiping a bead of sweat from your brow, you crouch low beneath a bush and scan the area for the bright violet blooms Shadowheart had you scouting for.

“I just don’t understand why you had to drag me out for this,” you fuss at your friend as thorns from the underbrush prick your side. Your clothing offers little protection against natures most irritating defenses.

“Surely there’s…someone more suited to this than I.” Your following scowl can’t be entirely blamed by the literal thorn in your side, not as thoughts of Halsin flash through your mind once more.

Shadowheart hums absentmindedly. “Yes, this is true. Halsin is more in tune with the forest,” she mutters, collecting something from the earth too small for your eyes to make out. A soft clink tells you the specimen makes it into the glass bottle. “I was actually hoping to talk to you about that,” Shadowheart continues, popping the cork back on the bottle and tucking it away.

“About what?” You hiss as another thorn embeds itself in your palm. You toss a scowl her way before distracting yourself from the conversation as you fiddle with removing the thorn. You’re not sure which hurts worse, the abrupt change in conversation topic or the wound in your hand. Impervious to your dirty looks, Shadowheart makes her way over to you.

“Well, you two were nearly inseparable. Absolutely enamored with each other—anyone could see it.” She takes your hand into her own to assess the damage.

“And now, well, if I’m being completely honest dear, you’re rather dour, you seldom leave your tent, or you’re looking for any excuse to get away from the party—sorry this’ll only hurt a second.” You wince as she pulls the thorn free and presses hard on the wound to stanch any bleeding. “And, well, Halsin’s been…unusually forlorn. Like a poor dog that’s been kicked in the stomach.”

With a scoff you withdraw your hand, taking care to apply pressure to it just as Shadowheart had done.

“I couldn’t care less what Halsin’s been doing.” The lie is ash on your tongue.

Shadowheart looks at you then, really looks at you. You try your best not to fidget under her assessing gaze.

“What happened?”

“I—“

“And don’t bother lying to me,” she’s quick to interrupt. “Save it for someone else. I know something has been bothering you.”

Resignation floods you. Leave it to Shadowheart to see right through your bravado and into your heart.

“I was a fool for thinking he could ever be happy with me.” The words are soft as they fall from your lips, but they burn your heart all the same. A firm weight falls on your shoulder as Shadowheart offers an encouraging hand.

“Tell me everything.”

_______

Halsin’s voice calls out your name from just outside Shadowheart’s tent. His low timbre still brings a tightness to your chest, but you will yourself to breathe normally. You’d been doing your best to avoid him since getting back to camp with Shadowheart, but you suppose now is as good a time as any to rip that particular bandage off.

“Yes, Halsin?” You ask matter of factly, not even looking up from the array of ingredients you’re currently sorting through. You pointedly ignore his gaze as he steps into the tent, taking up a majority of the albeit limited empty space.

Halsin clears his throat, clearly uncertain how to proceed. You two had always shared such an easygoing openness between you, but the last two days had left him scrambling for purchase.

“I was hoping we could talk,” Halsin smiles down at you, undeterred by your clear avoidance.

“Mm, we are talking.” You collect up one of the empty potion bottles, wiping at a smudge spot with the edge of your tunic.

Halsin forces a chuckle, but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Of course we are, but, erm, perhaps we could go for a walk? Enjoy some of nature’s company for the evening?”

“That won’t be necessary.” Your tone is sharper than you’d intended, but the guilt passes over you in a second as you replay his words in your mind, his scoff when you so much as mentioned a potential relationship.

Halsin sighs. He had hoped that his 300 odd years of experience would give him a leg up in navigating this prickly conversation, but—as is usual when you’re involved—his heart and his tongue seem to be tripping over one another.

“My heart,“

That gets your attention. Your gaze snaps up to his, laced with venom.

“You do not get to call me that. Not anymore.”

Halsin feels his own chest start to cave in as the hurt flashes across your face—you master it a moment later, but the damage is done.

“I’m not sure what I’ve done to upset you,” he starts, but you interject again.

“It’s fine. I’m not upset,” you force some neutrality back in your voice. “You weren’t interested in things continuing between us, and that’s fine. Nothing to apologize for.” You gesture to the flap of the tent. “You can take your leave now.”

Halsin does the opposite, braving another step closer.

“Of course I need to apologize. It appears my words have caused some confusion. Worse yet, I fear they’ve caused you pain.”

At that, you still, finger pausing over the bottles set up in front of you.

“You must know that I would never intend to hurt you.” Halsin’s tone was bordering on pleading. “Even now, it physically pains me to know that I’ve hurt you so.” He draws a hand to his chest, moving as if to soothe an ache that’s nestled beneath the surface there.

You glance up to see the hurt now reflecting in his eyes. It’s enough to bring forth a sigh from your lips, your shoulders caving in as resignation takes over your body. Even now, you can’t find it within yourself to hate him, no matter how much easier it would make this.

“You’re not responsible for my feelings, Halsin,” you sigh. “They are my own.”

“No, but I do take responsibility for my words,” he counters.

“You don’t want a relationship with me and you said as much. There’s nothing left to be said.” Despite your best attempts, your voice breaks on the last word. You close your eyes, clinging to the blunt words, mentally rebuilding your armor to power through the rest of this conversation.

“There is so much left to say, my heart.” Halsin’s gentle words caress your face like the sun’s rays on a warm summer day. “I have so much left to say.”

You keep your eyes closed, focus on taking another breath, keeping your heart steady. “Then speak.”

“I love you.”

Your eyes spring open, and Halsin is before you, close enough to touch. A large, tentative hand reaches up to cradle your face. You don’t pull away, and that’s enough to bring relief to Halsin’s heart.

“I don’t understand,” you whisper, afraid your mere voice would crack the perilously thin ice you suddenly find yourself on. “You said—“

“That I would not keep you to myself,” Halsin is quick to finish the thought.

“That we should seek out other people,” you correct, a touch of anger shading the words as you step out of Halsin’s grip.

At that, Halsin’s eyes widen. “No.” His voice holds more sharpness than the druid had ever shown with you before. “I said no such thing.”

“Well, maybe not exactly, but the sentiment was there,” you grumble, the frustration seeping through at your hazy memory.

“That ‘sentiment’ is misguided.” His tone leaves no room for argument, but you do it anyway.

“Well, forgive me if I don’t have it memorized word for word—I was a little busy having my heart broken,” you snap.

Halsin pauses for a heartbeat and you watch the pain shine in his pale green eyes at your words.

“And I will never forgive myself for the pain I’ve caused you these last few days. But listen to my words now. I beg of you.”

Another heartbeat passes. He takes your silence as permission to continue.

“I don’t abide by these conventional rules set in place by society. My home is in nature, and I follow the path the Oak Father has set before me. These ideals of what relationships should or shouldn’t be, you’ll have to forgive me if they're all but foreign to me.”

Another wave of disappointment washes over you and you close your eyes in a futile attempt to deter the familiar pinpricks of tears. A warm, familiar hand caresses your face before tilting your chin up to bring your gaze to his.

“But trust me when I tell you that I have never met someone like you. My heart does not stir lightly. But it does for you. What I feel for you pales in comparison to those who came before you.”

There is no doubting the sincerity that lies in those soft verdant eyes.

"It feels as though I have been asleep in a centuries long dark night, and now I am finally seeing daylight,” Halsin’s deep voice soothes, each word repairing the aches and tears of your heart.

“There is no one else for me, my heart. Call it what you wish; you are all I want. Nothing would make me happier than to have you by my side for the rest of my days, if that is what you desire as well.

My love for you runs deep and true. Never doubt it, my heart.”

And then his lips are on yours, and every thought eddies out of your head, but one: Halsin loves you.

Pure joy and relief floods your body and you don’t even bother trying to stop the tears of joy that follow. Halsin pulls back from the kiss just enough to swipe the tears from your cheek.

“I love you, too, Halsin,” you whisper in the space between you as Halsin presses his forehead to yours.

“Forgive me, my heart. For the pain I have caused you.”

You smile up at that handsome face you’ve grown to hold so dearly. Your slender hand reaches up to caress his cheek, tracing the swirls of his tattoo. “Only if you’ll forgive my foolishness for doubting you.” You feel the shame rise up, bringing a heat to your cheeks.

“My heart, there is nothing to forgive,” Halsin murmurs before pressing another kiss to your forehead.

#halsin #halsin x reader #halsin x tav #halsin silverbough

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distantdarlings · 7 months

Text

BENEATH HIS SHIRT // t. nott

RATING: PG-13 / 3.7K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Female Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested, based on this* When Theodore Nott discovers an old artifact with interesting properties, known as a Time Turner, he comes up with the idea to use it to perfect his asking you out. (Romance)

+ WARNINGS - Language, using Time Turner, lots of thinking about reader, fem reader insert, not proofread! nothing else (lmk if I missed any)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

All My Love - Noah Kahan

- - -

(Note: Hello there, all you beautiful people! I am finally back and ready to knock out the rest of your requests! I am so sorry I was gone for so long but I’ve had a lot going on in my everyday life. Thank you all for being so patient and please enjoy the story!)

Theo’s leg bounced beneath the desk, the wooden floorboards creaking every so often. His fingers nervously drummed against his notebooks. His eyes darted around. The teacher droned on and on.

Every so often, he felt his hand raise to his chest to gently nudge the cold weight that rested beneath his shirt. He figured it was a bit of paranoia stemming from the valuable thing around his neck, but he couldn’t stop it. He wasn’t even supposed to have it.

He’d found it when rooting through Professor McGonagall’s office last week. He knew how bad that sounded, but, in his defense, he didn’t mean to grab it. He was trying to grab the small chain he’d gotten at Hogsmeade last year—he’d been playing with it during class, and McGonagall had become annoyed with him. She had said he could have it back at the end of the month, but he wasn’t going to wait that long. He’d spent his money on that necklace, and he’d wanted it back.

The realization that he’d grabbed the wrong necklace hadn’t hit until he’d finally gotten back to his dorm. He’d run the whole way and failed to look down even once.

The item he’d held clenched in his fist was a golden chain with a single spherical charm at the end. It was golden, as well, with intricate carvings encasing it. He didn’t know what the hell he’d grabbed and figured it was some girl’s that McGonagall had snatched up, just like his.

He had rolled his eyes in annoyance, promising to head back tomorrow to go grab his necklace and return the one now settled in his palm.

Except he hadn’t gone back the next day. In the midst of getting ready for bed in the empty bathroom that night, he’d begun to mindlessly fidget with the golden object whilst brushing his teeth.

His fingers had traced the end of it, watching the rings around the charm twirl in on each other. The minty suds had spilled over the edge of his bottom lip, and when he had gone to catch the mess, his finger had jerked against the side of the charm just barely, and he was standing straight up again.

The suds still sat on the edge of his lip. They slid slowly, slowly, then pushed over and hit the ground with a wet splat. His eyes stared forward at the reflection of the necklace in his hand.

He didn’t know what the hell happened. It felt like his body had glitched out of reality for a moment. Surely it was just a coincidence, and he’d just had some more minty mess dribbling from his lips than he initially thought. But then, where had the original bit of toothpaste gone? He surely hadn’t caught it. He stepped back and looked around, searching over the stone floor and his person, attempting to find the missing blob of toothpaste. What the hell was going on?

His eyes found the necklace clutched between his fingers. He brushed his thumb over the golden jewelry just as he’d done the first time.

The earth glitched again, and the toothbrush was back in his mouth, and he was a step forward, closer to the mirror. He’d gasped and dropped his toothbrush and the jewelry in the sink, backing away wildly.

And after he’d played with it a few more times, he had decided to research it in the library. And now, as he sat in class, waiting for it to end, he felt as if it couldn’t come fast enough. He needed to get to the library so he could figure out what exactly this necklace did.

If he had to guess, he’d imagine that it turned the world back a bit at a time. Every time he touched the charm in a specific way—a small knob-like detail on the side of the globe itself—the day would jump back, and he’d be standing where he had been a few minutes before.

He was unsure of the extent of its power or if it really even did turn back time, but he intended to find out.

“Class dismissed!” McGonagall’s voice flashed through his mind.

At the sound of her announcement, he quickly gathered his things and rushed off toward the library, not bothering to excuse himself.

His breaths came out in quick, rasping pants as he appeared before the main entrance to the library. The hands that grasped his coat and bag collected beads of sweat rapidly, the small droplets slipping down his fingers.

“Nott? Everything alright?”

He whipped around, searching for the owner of the voice that had just grabbed his attention. Just before him, nearly a foot shorter, was Hermione Granger.

She stared up at him—eyes concerned, lips parted, hair bushy and wild, arms gripping a large number of books. One of her eyebrows quirked as if she was awaiting his response.

“Oh, sorry, Granger,” he chuckled nervously. “I was just trying to get to the library ahead of everybody…I’ve got some studying to do.” Wow, what a pathetic lie. Hermione knew it, too.

“Okay…did you need any help?” she asked. “I am a library ambassador.” Her voice was proud, chest perked out.

Just before he was about to blurt a loud, suspicious ‘no!’, he had a revelation. Hermione Granger was a Gryffindor and a tad annoying, but she was also one of the smartest students in the entirety of the castle, perhaps even in the Wizarding World. If anyone was able to help him at this moment—who wasn’t a professor and/or blatant snitch—it was her. He swallowed thickly.

“Actually, yes,” he said, nervously toying with the shoulder straps on his bag.

“Perfect, let’s get set up at a table!” she smiled widely, gently pushing past him and leading the way.

Theo had not been wrong in recruiting Granger’s assistance. She was bloody brilliant. The only information he’d given her, as suspicious as it had sounded, was he was doing a project about “magical objects—specifically jewelry” in his Defense Against the Dark Arts class. As dumb as the cover was, it seemed to work.

She’d set to work instantly, selecting tens of twenties of thickly bound books that had to be at least a hundred years old. When she pulled them from the shelf, her fingers fell away from them, allowing them to fall down to about waist height, where they would catch themselves in mid-air. As she scanned the shelves, they floated alongside her.

Theo was in awe of her incredible knowledge; he actually found himself interested in the millions of side tangents she went on. It was clear she was very intelligent.

The two of them had sat at a quiet table and set to work, with Hermione leading the way. She had pored over each book she’d decided upon, choosing between a number of fantastical objects, including a goblet that never let itself empty and a collection of garden tools in Sweden that did their own work without ever having been tweaked by a Wizard. It was fascinating.

Theo had even started working his way through one of the books when he’d spotted it. On a dusty, yellowed page, he saw a near-perfect sketch of the object now strung around his neck. Time-Turner. A small gasp left his lips, and his hands went to clutch against the necklace. It was an involuntary reaction, but one that hadn’t gone unnoticed by Hermione.

“Interested in the Time Turner?” she asked. “Would you like to use that one for your project? It’s quite brilliant.” Her eyes glanced down to his clutched fist, fingers still curled around the Time-Turner through his sweater. He let go and dropped his hand to his lap.

“I just thought it sounded very cool…” Theo said, sounding very unsure of himself. “Do you have any more books on it?”

“Um, I could search about if you wanted to look over that one a bit more,” she offered. Theo nodded, his eyes avoiding hers. Despite his obvious avoidance of her gaze, she set herself back down at the table and forced his eyes to find hers once more.

“Theo?”

“Yeah, what’s up?” he asked, trying to appear nonchalant. He felt as though he was sweating profusely.

“I’m going to ask you a question, and it’s not meant to upset you, but…are you currently in possession of any school-banned objects?”

His eyes flickered up to hers in shock. He hadn’t expected her to ask that if he were being honest. She hadn’t even skirted around the subject or anything. He paused for a moment, trying to find the words.

“No,” he breathed, his chest tight. He could barely look at her.

“Okay,” she said, expression unconvinced. “Well, so that you know—for your project—Time-Turners can be dangerous if not used properly. Your past self can never see your present self.” Oh. That was good to know.

She nodded her head slightly, eyebrows still furrowed tightly, before turning to walk away. She left Theo staring blankly at the open book before him. She definitely didn’t believe him. He hoped she wouldn’t rat him out.

He got to his feet and quickly exited the library.

***

Once back in his dorm, a thought washed over him. He could use this Time-Turner to benefit himself in an extreme amount of ways. He could go back and fix tests he’d failed, he could correct arguments with his family, he could—

A knock came at the door. He quickly shoved the object back beneath his shirt, shouting a brief invitation at the door.

The first thing he saw was your eyes as they poked through the door. He sat up, tugging the comforter over his naked chest.

“Oh!” you giggled, stepping back behind the door. “You’re naked!”

“No, not naked! Just need to grab a shirt!” Theo said, frantically searching about his bed for a stray tee shirt. He noticed one strewn over the back of his desk chair.

“Accio!” he hissed. The gray fabric tossed itself towards him, allowing him to sling it over his head and down his torso. “Come in!”

You pushed back through the door, a sly smirk printed on your lips.

“Shut up,” he laughed, patting the bed beside him. You jogged over to his side of the dormitory and hopped into his bed, sliding your legs beneath the covers. Your cold skin raised with chill bumps at his warmth.

Theo asked you about your day, and you asked about his, and he contemplated telling you about the Time-Turner for over two hours before you finally disappeared back into your dorm. In your absence, he realized something he hadn’t before.

He could use the small golden jewelry rested around his neck to finally confess his feelings for you—and he could make sure it was perfect no matter what. He just had to make sure his past self did not see his present self.

---

And that mission consumed the rest of his week—or the rest of his Monday. At the start of the first day, he’d found himself approaching you and then flaking out; or starting to tell you, then changing the subject; or telling you he loved you! (but as a friend). He groaned and rolled his eyes at himself.

At this point, there were going to be ten little Theos running around Hogwarts. Now that it was Tuesday, all of them should have been swept away with the passage of time, but he wasn’t certain he’d gone completely unspotted by everyone around him. He could’ve sworn Mattheo, a close friend of his, had mentioned how impossibly fast he’d gotten from one side of the castle to the other.

With a clenched jaw and stern eyes, Theo told himself he wasn’t going to push this little journey past Tuesday. He was going to get it done today.

In the midst of his repeated attempts, he’d gotten creative to avoid being seen by his past self. He’d snuck little tips written onto notes in his dorm, pretended that students could not go into certain rooms so his other self could be alone with you, etc. He knew that that could be dangerous, and he definitely didn’t understand the full capabilities of the Timer-Turner, but he realized that if there was one thing he truly wanted at the moment, it was you.

This was the last time.

He pinched the Time-Turner’s little knobbed bead and turned—24 times. That should put everyone back on Monday morning, at exactly ten o’clock in the morning.

Theo watched as the air around him in the boys’ lavatory began to shift—little flashes of passersby sped around him; Professor Snape even pushed through the door at one point. The day became darker and darker until the whole bathroom was plunged into an inky blackness. Then, it began to leave quickly, becoming lighter and lighter until the rushing stopped. The lavatory was silent. It was ten o’clock on Monday morning.

He had Potions right now, but he’d already written a note to Professors Snape and Dumbledore, asking to be excused from all of his classes due to a raging stomach ache. He’d gotten unfortunately detailed in the letter and hoped they’d leave him to attend the hospital wing on his own.

He watched before him as ten Theos seemed to step out of his body and walk toward the lavatory entrance. These were his previous attempts trying to make you his.

An idea popped into his head—one that may not work the way he planned. He had failed to ask Hermione how exactly any incidents would affect his present self, but he figured he’d come out alright.

“Petrificus Totalus!” he hissed, then watched as all ten of his other bodies froze suddenly and collapsed to the ground, falling like dominos. He pulled the hood of his cloak over his head, dragged them over to one of the stalls in the furthest corner, and propped them up against the wall. Despite their eyes still staring right through him, they were not able to see his face. He was appalled at the way he was treating himself, but he figured if he wasn’t able to remember it, it didn’t really matter. It wasn’t like he’d killed himself or anything like that; he’d likely just be a bit sore in the morning.

Still, perhaps he should have thought that through a bit more… It didn’t matter. This was the last time he was going to create more of himself for no reason. He should have successfully asked you out the first time, but, for some reason, he kept seeming to screw it all up. He was pathetic, using a magical object to ask someone out.

If any of his mates knew about this…he’d never live it down. He took a deep breath, straightened his tie and robes, and stepped out of the bathroom.

You were in Defense right now and would be going to your free period directly afterwards. He knew this because this was his eleventh time trying.

He pulled himself behind one of the enormous stone pillars holding the castle up and waited for your voice to come. Every single time, you walked out of your class, your laugh jingling like a chime through the halls and melting Theo’s heart down into his stomach. He anticipated the start of the sound.

When it began, Theo poked his head around the corner and saw you there—arms clutched around books, gorgeous hair framing your gorgeous eyes, your beautiful body on display as your group of friends turned to walk towards him. He gulped, standing back slightly.

“…and I was just wondering if he was, you know—”

“Hey,” Theo stepped out of his hiding place, interrupting you. Your shining eyes met his. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

Your mouth slacked open for just a moment before you blinked a few times and nodded slowly. The two girls on either side of you seemed to be suppressing smirks and eyeing you intently. He took a shuddering breath, hoping that these girls would not be making fun of him some time in the future.

Theo had told himself that this was the last time, so if he fucked this attempt up, that was it. He would throw the Time Turner away.

One of your friends offered to take your books and bag back to your dormitory. You turned back to Theo and smiled shyly.

Gently, he led you away from the gradually increasing wave of Hogwarts students and down a mostly empty corridor.

You followed him in silence until he turned the corner, and brought you out into a silent courtyard. The sun above twinkled over the fountain in the center of the blooming area.

Theo saw you smile a bit.

“Uh, I’m sorry to have pulled you away from your friends, I just wanted to talk to you about something…” he trailed off nervously, his palms already beginning to sweat. Your eyes watched him so closely—it was becoming hard to breathe.

“I wanted to tell you that I’ve developed feelings for you—ones of, uh, a…romantic…nature—wait, that’s awful… I meant I think you’re absolutely gorgeous…uh…” he stuttered endlessly, his perfect plan drowning. “I’m sorry, can you just please forget I never said any of this?”

“Theo, why would I want to forget any of this?” You chuckled gently, a small well of tears in your eyes. “You’ve been nothing but sweet and romantic and loving these last eleven days.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve just wanted to ask you out properly—hey, wait. What did you say?” Theo stopped, blood draining from his face.

“Oh,” you frowned a bit. “I wasn’t going to tell you, but…”

You reached beneath your sweater and slipped a silver chain over your head. At the very end of the links, glistening in the sun, was a deep emerald stone, hard-cut and encapsulated in silver linings. A rough breath left Theo’s lips.

“It’s a Reversal stone,” you explained, “a stone meant to protect me from any charms, curses, or illusions placed on or around me. There’s only a few of them in the world but my family happens to be the ones who originally discovered them and their immunity to magic.”

Theo wanted to throw up. He was sure he had glimpsed one of these in one of the books Hermione had brought to him. He had never been so embarrassed in his life.

“So, you’ve seen everything?” he asked, wincing a bit.

“And remember it all—but don’t worry, no one else will.” You flashed him a dazzling smile.

“So, I guess you know about the—”

“Time Turner?” You answered. “Yeah, I do. But your usage of it was very impressive; it’s almost like you’ve used one for years. Where did you get yours—oh, wait, I’m sorry. I’m getting ahead of you. Go ahead!” You urged him along with your hands.

Theo chuckled at your natural curiosity. His eyes traced over your small smile as you awaited his prepared speech.

“Do you even want me to go through with this?” Theo asked.

“I’d love to hear it again,” you said sincerely. Theo refrained from cringing at the ‘again.’

“It’s going to be the same thing you’ve heard every time,” he laughed nervously. “Is your answer going to change at all?”

“Well, to be fair, I didn’t get to answer the first times. You always cut me off and got to work spinning on that necklace of yours.”

Theo paused and thought back to each instance he’d reversed time and attempted to ask you out. He slowly realized that he'd never actually waited for your answer. He’d gotten too embarrassed and walked away.

“If you would have let me finish the first eleven times, you would’ve known that I couldn’t have cared any less about how you asked me out,” you smile flirtatiously. “All I cared about was the fact that you were asking me out.”

“So, does that mean…?” Theo trailed off.

“I’d love to be yours, Theo,” you laughed. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask for forever and—while I didn’t think you’d need an infamously enchanted object to ask me out—I would never have said no to you.”

Theo’s eyes lit up and his lips parted in a giddy smile. Despite his nerdish attempts at proposing the perfect question to you, you still wanted him. Had wanted him for a while. At least that was what you’d implied. Theo could barely force the words from his lips.

“So, we’re dating, then?” Theo asked dumbly. “You’re my girlfriend now?”

“Of course…if that’s what you’d like to call me, that is,” you smiled, sending a wink towards the tall boy. His cheeks flushed slightly as he slowly slid his hand towards you. You accepted the invitation by sliding your fingers against his, intertwining them lovingly.

Theo thought his heart might explode. He was already thinking of kissing you. Your lips looked so perfect and lush… He imagined you’d taste like the sweetest of fruits in the summertime, like the entirety of Honeydukes, like—

“Would you like to kiss me, Teddy?” You asked. Theo swallowed thickly. Could that damn necklace of yours allow you to read minds as well? “I’d just very much like to kiss you, and thought that I’d ask.”

“Uh, I’d love to,” he smiled nervously.

“Theo,” you breathed, resting your lips just above his. “Relax. You don’t have to be so nervous. Is this the first kiss you’ve ever had?”

“No, but—”

“Then you’re alright,” you laughed.

His eyes were wide and frightened, his lips parted in a perpetual sigh. He could barely contain himself as your hand trailed up and along his chest before sweetly reaching his face. Your soft fingers caressed the flesh around his ear and then across his mouth. Theo’s breath caught in his throat at the sensation.

You gave him a small smile before lightly dragging your fingers under his chin and disappearing back through the entrance to the courtyard.

Theo remained standing, amongst the stone and the vines, with only his breathing and the trickle of the fountain behind him. His deep exhales brought him back to the present. He blinked sharply and laughed a bit at your boldness.

He was going to get you back.

*Tag List: @mypolicemanharryyy, @lilymurphy03, @clairesjointshurt, @bunbunbl0gs, @acornacreacure, @niktwazny303, @thestarlithideout, @sarahskakskskskajakwwnwjw, @yhiiil, @ravenclawprincess33, @xxrougefangxx, @thatblackthorn, @robinyx, @starsval, @jolly4holly, @blvebanisters, @chgrch (If you would like to be added to the tag list for any future works, please comment on this post, dm me, or send me a message in my inbox. Thanks!)

#fanfiction #creative writing #fanfic #writing #reader insert #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #oneshot #slytherin #harry potter smut #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott smut #theo nott #mattheo riddle #fem reader

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sciencebecameouraddiction · 7 months

Text

title: just the three of us

author: sciencebecameouraddiction

fandom: hazbin hotel

rating: G

genre: romance, fluff

pairing: alastor x reader x lucifer (radioapple x reader)

summary: when someone destroys part of the new hotel, specifically aiming for charlie, the age old question of where will everyone sleep is asked. don’t worry, alastor and lucifer have a plan… surprisingly.

After the last extermination fight and the newly renovated hotel, sinners flocked to the hotel in droves. To the point that tonight, as you checked the last person in, there were no more rooms.

“That is going to be a problem as we get further along…” you murmur, reshuffling the paperwork you needed to file.

“What is a problem, my dear?” Alastor’s voice suddenly rang out near the checkin counter and you turned to look at him, not reacting to his sudden appearance as he had done this so many times, you were used to it. You looked at him seeing him dressed down, jacket gone, for the night and blushed, quickly turning away, busying yourself with fixing the paperwork.

“We’re all out of rooms tonight Alastor. It’ll be an issue because eventually we may need to expand the hotel to fit everyone.” You explained.

“Hmmmm…” Alastor glanced over to Lucifer who was fixing a drape for some reason as you turned back to Alastor. “That will be his problem then.” He smiled at you and you gave him a thumbs up, stashing the paperwork in the right drawer and locking it up. You handed the keys to Alastor and walked around the counter and sighed.

“I am so excited to-“ You were suddenly cut off as Charlie came running down the stairs, calling your name and crying a bunch of “I’m so sorry!” with it. She collided against you and hugged you and you hugged her in return on instinct.

“Charlie, what’s up?” You ask, worried for her as she keeps apologizing.

“Charlie, come now. We can’t help if we don’t know what’s happened.” Alastor said, as gently as Alastor could. You look at Alastor and then at Lucifer who had joined you hearing his daughter wailing.

“I-They-Your room!” Charlie got out, still crying.

“Okay. What’s wrong with my room Char?” You ask gently, holding her shoulders concerned.

“It’s destroyed!” She cries, Vaggie now coming down the staircase out of breath.

“Yeah, half of the 30th floor is gone. Everyone’s okay, Fat Nuggets is safe too. But it’s gone.” Vaggie explained.

“Does that include-“ Alastor begins and stops when Vaggie nods her head.

“It includes your room too Alastor.” Vaggie said, looking at Alastor as annoyance shined across his face.

“Who did this?” Alastor ground out.

“It’s nothing I can’t fix!” Lucifer exclaimed and Charlie cried harder. You looked at Lucifer and smiled as a way to say ‘thank you’ for trying to fix whatever was happening, his eyes widening a bit and a blush staining his cheeks. Vaggie looked and landed on you as the best person to talk to as Alastor was seething to your right.

“So, why can’t Lucifer fix the floor Vaggie?” You ask, consoling Charlie as Lucifer looked confused at what you said, opening his mouth to explain, he just said he could fix it.

“The type of… magic… that is up there… needs to dissipate before anyone can go near it again.” Vaggie explained. Lucifer and Alastor squinted at Vaggie, trying to understand.

“What happened?” You ask, more confused than anything.

“Someone left something for Charlie, a gift, and when she picked it up I heard ticking so I threw it-“ Vaggie started, Lucifer gasping and his hand now resting on Charlie’s head protectively.

“Into my room?” You ask.

“Yeah,” Vaggie nodded. “I knew you weren’t in there. I got everyone out of that side and when it went off, well, a very strong aphrodisiac, it’s pink so I’m going to take a guess there, was set loose. Everyone’s fine, no ones affected and everyone above the floor has been given guidance to keep their windows shut and to alert us if they feel any symptoms. But it took out part of the building and it’s lingering. We were able to contain it so it won’t seep into the hotel either.” Alastor’s face with a still ever present smile looked disgusted and displeased.

“That was intended to hurt you and Charlie then, you know that?” You ask, clutching Charlie tighter, looking at Lucifer whose face looked grim.

“I know. It means that they know what floor we’re on, and what room was ours.” Vaggie confirmed.

“We’ll need to make better schematics when we rebuild.” Alastor glanced at Lucifer, pointedly staring at him.

“Regardless, they knew what floor the staff was on too, it was to take all of us out. We’ll need to put protections in place.” You murmur as you guide Charlie to the couch. “We’ll have to deal with it in the morning though. Are there protections that can be put on the hotel and specifically staff?” You turn to ask Lucifer and Alastor. They both nod, saying yes at the same time and then eyeing eachother.

“Okay. Please, work together to put them in place.” Both nodded and went off discussing amongst themselves “Vaggie, do we have places for those displaced?” You ask, your hand absent mindedly petting Charlie’s head.

“Everyone except for Husk, Angel, myself, Charlie, Pentious and Nifty.” Vaggie explained.

“Myself and Alastor as well.” I add and Vaggie nods. Suddenly, both Alastor and Lucifer come back, and Alastor suggests, “Why don’t Husker, Angel, Charlie, Pentious and Nifty as well as yourself, Vaggie, sleep in the common area here. We can create it as a room for now until we can access the damage tomorrow.”

“What about our rooms and sleeping places, Alastor?” You ask, looking at him like he’d gone off his rocker.

“Oh, you can come sleep in my quarters!” Lucifer pipes up, smiling. No one else seems to feel that Alastor or Lucifer’s sudden agreement on this was strange. You don’t have time to think about it though as the crew comes down and Vaggie explains the proposition. There are cheers of “movie night” and running to grab snacks.

You look down to see Charlie gone and look up to see her and Lucifer talking. You sigh, feeling the day suddenly catch up to you, when you feel Alastor murmur to you, “Why don’t you go upstairs?” You look to him confused.

“Go on little doe, we’ll get everyone situated down here. You’re off duty now.” Alastor says pushing you toward the other staircase. You sigh, thinking Alastor is acting weird and wave as those in the common area yell good night, seemingly taking this turn of events well. You walk up the stairs, and feel exhausted from the day. Your mind wondering to who could have placed something like that up there.

You hesitate outside of the door to Lucifer’s quarters, you know that he said y’all would be sleeping there but it still felt odd. You sighed and walked in, admiring how expansive it was before seeing a very comfy looking couch across from the bed. You snickered to yourself, knowing you’d be falling asleep in a matter of minutes and then Alastor and Lucifer would have to share a bed.

“What’s better than a get along shirt? A get along bed.” You chuckle as you collapse onto the couch and are swept off into a dreamless sleep.

———•———•———

You slowly awake to arguing and whispers. You open your eyes to two pairs of eyes staring down at you. You yelp and then fall off the couch, landing on top of Lucifer. His cheeks aflame as he stared at you. You realize that your top is in his hands and there’s a new top in Alastor’s hands. Both of them are in pajamas, and staring at you wide eyed.

“Why am I undressed?” You ask confused.

“Well, you see… you looked uncomfortable and so we wanted to make you more comfortable and so we just grabbed new clothes for you and were going-“ Lucifer started rambling before Alastor cut him off.

“We wanted to ensure your comfort dear, so we were going to change you. We weren’t looking at anything, gentleman’s promise.” Alastor said, softer than he normally spoke. You, awake enough now, looked at both of them. The air in the room was tense and they both looked partially guilty, and while also anxious.

“I don’t care if you were looking, jeez.” Their eyes widen at that. “I don’t know why you’re being both, so weird.” You say, leaning over and grabbing the shirt from Alastor and then coming back to where you were sitting putting it on. You move around a bit and shimmy to get the shirt that is huge on you actually situated when suddenly Lucifer’s hands go to your hips digging in and stop you moving. His breaths were heavy and his eyes lidded.

“Please-“ he breathed. “Stop moving.” You looked down and realized you were straddling him as you yelped in shock and shot yourself over to Alastor, Lucifer whining at the loss of contact, as you accidentally land between Alastor’s legs, your upper back right against him. He grunts and you look up at him, his cheeks aflame a gorgeous red and you realize what you’ve done again, so you leap away from both of them sitting on the floor near the edge of the couch.

“I am so so sorry. I am so sorry.” You’re muttering and hold your head in your hands. You’re quiet and can’t even look at them, the pajama shirt they were handing you askew and your work pants still on. Suddenly, you feel a cool hand on your cheek, guiding you to look up. You see Lucifer who had crawled over to comfort you and Alastor still on the couch, blush evident on his cheeks.

“If you wanted us so badly, you don’t have to throw yourself at us.” Lucifer chuckled, seeing you curl further into yourself muttering apologies. “You’re so smart you know that?” Lucifer murmured. His hand resting on your cheek now, thumb rubbing against your cheek bone, drawing your face to look at him. “You knew our little plan down there… You knew something wasn’t right.” he explains and your eyes widen.

“Your little plan… ‘our’ little plan… You worked together?” You ask incredulously. Lucifer and Alastor exchange a glance and then both chuckle.

“That is what she would be worried about, hmmm.” Alastor said, looking at you both.

“I don’t understand. Did you place something to ruin the hotel?” You say looking at them both like they are crazy.

“No!” Alastor exclaimed.

“No, no. Our plan after that happened, of sharing a room with you so we could talk. We wanted to do this in a different fashion but, you seem to have caught both our eyes, my duckling.” Lucifer explained and your eyes went wide.

“You both…” You trailed off not finishing the thought. “Seriously? You’re doing this right now?” You ask both of them. They both nod and you blanch.

“Strike while the iron’s hot and all that.” Alastor quips. You look at both of them, your heart feeling like it would burst and then your stomach drops coming to a realization they may want you to choose between them.

“I’m not choosing between either of you, nor will I allow this to be a competition. I value our friendships far too much for that, so if this is what this is, I’ll be going down with the others.” You say as you try and get up. Lucifer stops you though as Alastor gently places his hand on your shoulder, stopping you and explains, “You misunderstand us dear. We don’t want you to choose. We talked about it and we would both like to date you… simultaneously.” Alastor explained. Lucifer nods as they both watch your expression. You blink a few times, your mind not processing.

“Why me? I’m just… me. I’m a sinner. I’m not even an overlord. No one important.” You murmur, not looking at them again. There’s a sigh and Alastor lifts your face.

“You’re important to me, chère.” He whispers, almost like if he didn’t say it out loud then no one else could hear the weakness he was admitting to.

“You’re very important to me.” Lucifer says, guiding you to look at him as you realize that both Alastor and Lucifer’s fingers were interlocked on your chin and your heart fluttered. “You helped me see the light, when all I saw was a dark cage. You and Charlie did that.” He explains, his eyes brilliant in conviction and leans down and kisses the corner of your mouth. You gasp as his eyes widen and he looks a bit sheepish while Alastor stared accusingly at Lucifer.

“And Al, you’re okay with this?” You ask. “I don’t want anything to make you-either of you really, but I think Lucifer would be more open to all of this in this situation- but I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Or this make you uncomfortable. Or anything. And honestly, I’d rather go downstairs and pretend this didn’t happen, if you both were uncomfortable because again I value your friendship and you both mean a lot to me-“ You ramble on until Alastor puts his hand over your mouth, stopping your words, your cheeks blazing at the proximity.

“If I wasn’t comfortable, I wouldn’t be here right now.” Alastor asks, finally sitting on the floor with both you and Lucifer, Alastor kneeling in front of you and bending down a bit.

“Are you comfortable with this idea though?” Lucifer asked, his hand trailing to yours. “You’ve spoke about our comfort-which I am okay with all of this, surprisingly…” Lucifer says eyeing Alastor. “But are you okay with this? All three of us being together?”

“Well, I mean, it’s kind of sudden, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t like you both. Quite honestly it left me desperately hopeless because I couldn’t just choose either of you. That’s been going on for like at least six months though.” Both pairs of eyes widen looking at you. “But what about this?” You ask motioning between them. “I have to be honest when this is probably the most surprising revelation of the whole evening.”

“You know what they say, hate makes the heart grow fond.” Alastor smiles sarcastically at Lucifer.

“That’s not-never mind…” Lucifer looks at you. “We realized about a month ago that we respected eachother more than what we had let on, and in that conversation we both revealed to each other that we cared for you.. amongst other things.” Lucifer explained, looking at Alastor, a red tinge on his cheeks and started getting up, you looked at him confused, but he offered both you and Alastor a hand. Both you and Alastor grabbed Lucifer’s hands and got up, as Lucifer continued talking. “Whiskey does wonders on getting people to talk. So, we then wanted to know if there was an opportunity that you reciprocated feelings for at least one of us.”

“Color us surprised when we realized you did, but for both of us.” Alastor added on as he followed the King of Hell to the bed.

“How did you know though?” You ask genuinely curious as you hopped on the bed, looking at both of them. “I tried to not show anything at all.”

“A certain spider spilled.” Alastor grinned.

“Angel.” You looked unimpressed.

“We then realized that we had a unique opportunity.” Alastor explained.

“So, we decided that if we didn’t have to make you choose and could-“ Lucifer started.

“Both court you, then it was the most ideal outcome. Especially considering if this became public…” Alastor trailed off, his grin becoming strained.

“If this became public you would be target number one for a lot of people who wish to harm me or Alastor. Heaven and the Vees included. And Charlie is currently one of those targets as well.” Lucifer expanded on the point already made. “So what better than to have two of the arguably most powerful men at your service?” Lucifer exclaimed at the end. Alastor eyed his theatrics and rolled his eyes.

“Well, I mean that’s hot.” You say unthinkingly and then feel your face turn warm as you look up at both Alastor and Lucifer who are wide eyed. “I mean- uh…” You clear your throat. “That’s very very logical.”

Alastor laughs and leans over, invading your personal space. “If you think that’s… as you said, hot, we can show you something more.” His grin widens, mischievous. You hear a groan across from you and see Lucifer, blushing.

“That was hot.” He says and you can’t help but laugh. Which turns into a yawn.

“Come, let us sleep, we can talk more about this in the morning.” Alastor explains drawing you up to the pillows and laying on your right side.

“Hey! I normally lay on the right side of the bed!” Lucifer exclaims. “You KNOW that.” He looks actually upset as Alastor just switches the pillows.

“Right as rain then?” Alastor says sweetly, looking at Lucifer. You feel Alastor’s arm gently being placed on your waist. “Is this all right darling?” You nod and look at Lucifer. You open your arms for him and he smiles, cuddling up and facing you.

“Can we sleep like this every night?” You ask, half asleep, but feeling so comfortable.

“Of course dear.” Alastor murmurs.

“Every single night.” Lucifer confirms. You feel Lucifer’s hand reach around you and feel it move like he was petting something. You understood quickly as Alastor growled. He had pet Alastor.

“Don’t pet me, you under grown circus clown.” Alastor threatens as he stiffens against you, feeling and hearing Lucifer chuckling.

“Both of you behave.” You murmur, close to the sweet embrace of sleep, still half wondering how everything fit together so quickly, but you had once heard that when it’s right everything just comes together perfectly.

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xzaddyzanakinx · 8 months

Text

Romance Novel

Stepdad!Anakin Skywalker x femme reader Oneshot

18+ MDNI

Warnings: unprotected PiV, oral (female receiving), inappropriate relationships, scent kink? panty kink? Anakin is freaky idk, L-bomb, accidental cumming inside you

Info: Anakin is your stepdad, you’re in college, he LOVES to embarrass/tease you; so of course he can’t miss the opportunity to read your filthy little romance novel!!! Sweet n’ tender, alittle mushy ❤️ low key making fun of myself/fanfic writers just alittle with the book Ani teases you about (hehehhehehe)

"That's better," Anakin mutters in satisfaction, wrapping an arm around around you as you tucked yourself against his side.

"So, what have you been reading?" He asks, taking a long drag from his cigarette before exhaling slowly.

"Oh, just some romance novel," you mumbled, trying to sound casual. Knowing we would tease you about it.

Anakin chuckled lowly, his deep baritone reverberating through the room. "Aww, a little romance, huh? Do tell me more about these knights and their damsels in distress." He teased, kissing the top of your head.

“Anakin.” You groaned, your face getting pink with embarrassment.

"Those college boys really so bad you had to turn to books?” He chuckled, grabbing the book from the coffee table.

“Jesus… this is raunchy.” He laughed, a glint of something dark in his eyes as he looked over at you. “you like this stuff?”

“I mean… yeah?” You giggled nervously “I’m reading it aren’t I?”

"I knew it," Anakin smirked, setting aside the cigarette in the ashtray and flipping through the pages again. "You're not as innocent as you let on."

“Wow.” He chuckled, a wide grin on his face as he read over a paragraph.

“Maybe I should be your narrator for a minute. Just to see you blush.” He teased, pinching your thigh lightly as he cleared his throat.

“No!” You yelped trying to grab the book from his hands. “Oh my god no, please I’d rather die.”

"Well, I’ll make sure they play your favorite song at your funeral.” He grinned wide and devilish.

Anakin started to read out loud, his deep voice flowing like honey. His hand slowly crept upwards, tracing along your thigh until it reached the hemline of your skirt.

"The hero, strong and muscular, towering over the petite damsel... ohh, she feels his hands caressing her delicate curves..." He said mockingly, his fingers brushed against your waist.

“She closes her eyes, surrendering to his touch..." He wiggled his eyebrows at you, a smarmy expression on his face.

“Really?” You huffed, rolling your eyes and pretending this wasn’t doing anything for you. Nothing at all.

“Gods… this is-“ He cleared his throat, not-so-subtly adjusting himself through his sweatpants.

“He dipped his tongue into her dripping hole, devouring her slicked cunt with lewd slurping noises.” He glanced over at you to gauge your reaction.

“Anakin!” You gasped, covering your face with your hands. You were getting flustered, panties dampening just at the thought of Anakin doing those things to you. It was even worse that he was saying them out loud to you.

“Hmm. Let’s see… gonna skip ahead just a bit.” He hummed, obviously having a wonderful time embarrassing you.

"Ah, yes... the climax," Anakin chuckled, his voice husky as he continued reading. “The hero thrusts his massive cock into her tight, virgin entrance, filling her up to the brim..."

"She cried out in pain and pleasure alike, begging for more..." He paused, his eyes locked onto yours.

You knew what he was doing. He knew what he was doing. What he was trying to convey through his beautiful blue eyes. His want. His need for you.

You’d known for a while about his secret obsession. He spoiled you, treated you like a true princess, hell he was more attentive to you than your mom… his wife. Since they married last year, they’ve done nothing but argue. Anakin is so sweet and caring, he deserves better than her. Maybe he deserves you instead.

“Anakin…” You whispered. Your cheeks red as you chewed your lip and squeezed your thighs tightly together to get some pressure on your throbbing clit.

"What is it doll?" He asked softly, reaching over to stroke your hair in a comforting manner.

“I-I just…” You stuttered, flustered and embarrassed by the situation. You’d always found Anakin attractive, just as he did you. But this was not right. You shouldn’t be wet at the thought of your stepdad, it’s wrong…. Right?

“Take your time sweet girl.” He whispered, pulling you closer, wrapping a strong muscular arm around you while he gently rubbed your lower back.

“I want to give you what you want.” He mumbled, his lips pressed against your temple. “But you have to be the one to ask for it.”

You sighed, furrowing your brows in thought as you buried your head into his shoulder.

“Please.” You whispered. “Don’t make me say it.”

He shook his head. Giving you the answer you didn’t want. You knew he needed to hear it from you. To know he wasn’t crazy for thinking this way, to know you felt something too. To have it said aloud.

You lifted your head and looked up at him. Seeing the same hunger in his eyes that you knew were in your own.

“Tell me what you need.” He softly commanded.

“I wanna kiss you… please?” You asked, voice shaking with nervousness.

He leaned in and tilted your chin just enough so that your noses were touching and whispered sweetly, honeyed and smooth. "You want me to kiss you?"

“Yes.” You said without hesitation, causing Anakin let out a puff of air in a breathy laugh.

“I’m proud of you baby… I’ve been waiting so patiently for you to ask.” He mumbled against your lips, making you wait a few seconds more before giving you what you both so desperately wanted.

The kiss was loving. His soft lips smoothed over yours, slotting together as though they were meant to be. Like two magnets that had finally been turned the right way, snapping into place the way nature intended. He wasn’t rushed, not like you were. He groaned and chuckled when you tried to lift your shirt over your head, his strong hands stopping you.

You should’ve felt embarrassed. Being so desperate for your stepfather’s touch, so needy for the man before you. But you weren’t, you couldn’t be. Not when he looked at you like that.

“No, no. I don’t want to rush this." Anakin spoke between breaks in the kiss, his thumbs teasing your bare stomach beneath your shirt, tracing circles around your bellybutton and downwards towards the waistband of your skirt.

He carefully slipped his tongue past your lips, massaging your tongue with his. The taste of him was so… right. Perfectly curated for your liking. Like the fancy wine he bought for you to share sometimes. You couldn’t help but moan in response, thinking of all those times you could’ve done this, thinking how clear it was… your attraction to each other, how foolish you’d both been to ignore it.

You moaned, needy and practically distraught over his lack of touch. “Please, I need more.”

He groaned, pulling you into his lap to straddle his thighs. His calloused hands slipping beneath the soft fabric of your skirt. Grabbing a handful of ass to guide you closer, pressing you against his chest.

“I will give you everything.” He whispered, his breath hot against your neck as he placed sloppy kisses there. “just let me take my time.”

“Mmmhhhmm.” You hummed in agreement, the feeling of his lips against your sensitive flesh was satisfying in a way you’d never felt before. Midas’s touch in the form of a kiss.

“Ani… th-that feels good.” You breathed out, your voice showing how much you really wanted him. If there was one thing you couldn’t control, it was that. The tone of your voice. Try your best and still, Anakin would always know what you really meant, how you really felt.

Anakin smiled, his lips moving downwards along your neck and collarbone, nibbling on the sensitive skin as he went. He wasn’t planning on speeding this up anytime soon, he was going to tenderly torture you by making you wait. Making you earn it.

“Anakin…” You whimpered, hips unintentionally grinding against the bulge in his sweat pants. “giving me goosebumps.”

Humming, his hand sliding beneath your ass and lifting you up slightly before setting you back down on his lap, now directly centered over his hard bulge. His lips traveled lower, kissing and sucking along the slope of your cleavage, stopping just short of the fleshy part you so badly wanted him to squeeze.

"Are you okay, doll?" He asked, his voice husky with desire.

“Yes.” You nodded, rolling your hips against him. It send a strike of lightning through your cunt, exiting your needy body in the form of a desperate whine.

“Please touch me.” You begged, arm around his neck, hand in his hair while your other fisted the hem of his shirt.* “please I can’t take much more.”

"Patience darlin’. I am not doing that out here, you deserve a real bed." He growled, standing up from the couch and pulling you with him. He carried you towards your bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him with his foot.

Once inside, he placed you on the bed, crawling over top of you, pinning you down with his weight. His mouth returned to cradle yours, devouring you hungrily while his hands continued their relentless exploration of your body.

Anakin pulled away from the kiss, sitting up on his knees and pulling you against his chest to suckle on your neck again. Nipping your earlobe gently as he slowly slid his hands beneath your skirt again. His rough palms gliding over the backs of your smooth thighs. His fingers teasing the crease of your ass cheeks at the top of your thigh before following the line of your panties. He gently tugged it down until it pooled around your bent knees. You quickly kicked it off and out of the way.

Carefully he lifted your shirt up and over your head, as though he were unwrapping something delicate and breakable. The wind knocked out of him with the realization you weren’t wearing a bra. You giggled to yourself thinking ‘yeah, could’ve found that out earlier if you just would’ve touched me.’.

But if you were being honest, you preferred it this way. Being able to see his reaction to your body, the unobstructed view of his eyes as they widened. His pupils dilating in love and lust.

"Oh fuck..." His voice cracked as he looked down at your bare breasts, nipples hard and begging for attention. "You are beautiful..."

Anakin's hand cupped one breast, squeezing firmly, rolling the nipple between his thumb and index finger while the other hand found its way to your waist.

“Ohh Ani.” You gasped at his touch, ‘finally’, you thought, ‘this was worth the wait.’. A fresh gush of arousal leaking out to form a wet spot on your panties.

“Anakin, please you’re torturing me.” You whined, desperate for more, anything more.

"I told you I'd give you everything, baby girl." Anakin purred, his hand moving up to tenderly trace your jaw. “but I’m not going to fuck you.” He whispered kissing you softly to quiet your attempt at protest.

“Shhh, I’m not gonna fuck you.” He pulled back, looking into your eyes with a depth of emotion you’d never seen before. He slowly lowered you back down onto the bed. Ensuring your comfort before kissing you again, licking down your jaw to find your earlobe and suck it between his teeth. He released it slowly, and whispered in a deliciously low rumble.* “I’m gonna make love to you.”

The wave of pure lust and arousal that washed over your body was almost painful in the way that it made every pore of your very being cry out for him. Willing you to beg for more, more, more.

He sucked one nipple into his mouth, resting his upper body weight on your stomach. It should’ve been uncomfortable, but it wasn’t. It was actually kind of comforting? Keeping you grounded when all your mind wanted to do was float up to the clouds.

“Fuck.” You breathed out, his lips moving to give the other nipple the same love and attention.

You mewled, trying to buck your hips and squeeze your hand unoccupied with guiding his head on your breasts, down between you to give yourself some well deserved friction on your clit.

He didn’t stop you, nor did he speak, he just looked up at you from his work on your raw and red nipples with a disapproving expression. Reluctantly you returned the hand to its previous position of tracing invisible lines between his shoulder blades.

“That's a good girl." Anakin praised, releasing your nipple with a soft pop. His lips trailed downwards, leaving a trail of fire along your stomach before reaching your panty-covered mound.

He gripped your hips and dragged you to the edge of the bed so he could kneel between your thighs. He kissed and nipped his way up your inner thigh, stopping to bury his face into the fabric of your soaked panties, inhaling deeply.

You squirmed, cheeks flushed and chest feeling hot. What was he doing? Your heart raced at the way he brazenly took in your scent, he looked completely unfazed, as though this was a normal thing that every man does. Maybe he thought they did, or should.

“Goddamnit.” He moaned, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he rested his forehead at the crease of your thigh, his lips still dangerously close to your cunt.

“M’taking these off dollface.” He whispered in a husky tone.

He peeled your damp panties off, bunching them in his hand while his other teasingly dragged his fingers through the curly hairs between your legs. He brought the fabric to his face again and inhaled like he was oxygen starved. His voice rumbled in his throat as he removed his hand from its place of teasing to assist his other in unwadding the panties.

“Smells so goddamn good.” He growled, bringing them back up to his face; making eye contact as he dragged his tongue across the large wet patch on the fabric.

Oh. Oh, okay… so he’s kinky; you whimpered at the realization that he’d somehow gotten even harder just from your scent. You couldn’t help but be incredibly turned on at this unexpected moment. It was filthy, so filthy. But more importantly it was extremely fucking hot.

At devious thought occurred in this moment; ‘has he done this before? He’s done your laundry often… fuck, that would just make it even hotter.’

“Mmmhmm..." Anakin moaned and nodded his head as if to answer your unasked question, his eyes locked on yours as he tossed the panties behind him.

He slowly lowered his head to finally get a proper look at your wet and waiting cunt.

“Oh my poor girl.” He cooed, his eyebrows furrowed as he glanced up at you through hooded lids. “all swollen n’ red baby. I made you wait to long didn’t I?”

“Uh huh.” You nodded frantically. “need you Ani… please.“

You tried to wiggle your hips alittle closer to his mouth but his strong hands held you firmly in place, causing a whine of impatience to fall from your lips.

“Anakin please!” You begged without hesitation, without a second thought at how desperate you must sound. “please, please I can’t stand it anymore. It hurts.”

“Shh it’s alright sweetheart." He said, tracing slow circles around your entrance with his index finger, collecting more of your juices before bringing them to his lips and sucking them clean. “I’ll make it all better.”

He paused, his thumb pressed against your swollen, throbbing clit, teasing you mercilessly. "Is this where it hurts baby girl?"

“Gods yes.” You groaned through gritted teeth. Your hand fisting the sheets beside you while the other laced through his thick hair.

At your admission he slowly began to lick and suck your sensitive folds. Each stroke of his tongue sent wave after wave of pleasure to blanket your aching pussy in well earned attention.

His hands gripped your thighs tightly, legs wrapped around him as he buried his face between your legs, his tongue delving deeper inside with each thrust. His fingers trailed along your collarbone before reaching up to caress your breast again, massaging it roughly while keeping eye contact.

"Perfect… such a pretty little pussy." He groaned, his voice almost broken by the intensity of desire in his tone.

His dirty words lit a fire in your stomach that burned hotter and hotter with each swirl of his tongue. Gently he inserting one long digit into your sopping hole, the vibration from the lustful rumble in his throat traveled straight to the coil wound tightly in your gut.

"That's it baby girl, you’re close already huh?." Anakin encouraged, his breath hot against your needy core.

Each thrust of his finger making your body shake and quiver. His tongue continued its relentless assault on your swollen and overwhelmed clit. The way he spoke, even with his face buried and his words muffled from your wet folds… it was beautiful. He was beautiful. His eyes looking up at you with love and devotion as he showered your most intimate place in pleasure.

“There it is… you can do it baby.” He panted.

He added another finger, spreading you wider apart, stretching gently but firmly. He brought his other hand down to pull and pinch your clit, holding it firmly while he viscously attacked it with his talented tongue and the suction of his plump lips. His two fingers relentlessly massaging the spongy front wall of your cunt.

“Anakin oh my god.” You gasped, white hot lightening shooting through you and practically blinding you with pleasure as your legs quivered, thighs clamping around his head.

“Cum-cumming oh fuck don’t stop!” You cried out his name in ecstasy. He took your pleas to heart, he never faltered in his strokes; only humming and moaning along with you as he greedily drank down every drop of your juices.

Anakin kept sucking and licking, his tongue tracing every inch of your sensitive folds until he felt you start to calm down. Only then did he slowly withdraw his fingers from your aching core, leaving you drenched and panting.

"That was beautiful, doll." He praised, wiping his face with the back of his hand before standing up to gaze down at you with a satisfied smirk. “You’re just a fucking Angel aren’t you?"

Without further ado, he pushed his pants and boxers down, freeing his thick, hardened member. It throbbed and leaked a bead of precum, glistening in the dim starlight that illuminated the room.

He helped you get settled back into the center of the bed, positioning himself over you, one hand caressing your red cheeks with his still wet and sticky fingers. Going behind the trail he’d left to lick it away, pulling back to make eye contact while he sucked his digits clean.

“Damn… th-that’s hot.” You whispered, eyes widened as you watched him throughly clean every trace of creamy juices from his fingers.

“You taste so fucking good." Anakin growled, his hand moving down to cup your breast again, squeezing and massaging it roughly while his thumb circled your nipple.

With his weight propped up on one forearm he leaned forward to capture your lips in a slow and loving embrace, his tongue tracing the seam, begging be let in.

You moaned, dropping your jaw slightly to allow him to explore the depths of your mouth as he pleased.

Breaking the kiss Anakin looked down at you, cupping your cheek in his hand. A look of something foreign and familiar in his icy blues. He looked like he wanted to say something, his plump lips parted slightly, tongue darting out to wet them. He closed his eyes for a moment and pressed his forehead to yours, rubbing his nose against yours in that odd affectionate way that he often did. When he pulled back, the look was still there, just dimmer, calmer.

“Let me show you what it feels like to be worshipped as you deserve to be.” He pleaded, positioning himself between your spread legs. Slowly, he lowered himself onto you, his thick cockhead pressing against your sensitive entrance.

"Tell me when you're ready, baby girl." He panted, his hips rocking back and forth teasingly, rubbing the head of his cock against your tight opening. Gathering your mixture of slick and his saliva to lube his cock. “I’ll be so gentle, I’ll make sure you feel good baby. This is all about you.”

“I’m ready.” You whispered, looking at him as his free hand soothed you with gentle caresses on your waist, over your navel and back again.

Anakin groaned, his eyes locked on yours as he slowly pushed inside, inch by agonizingly slow inch. Each bit of his girthy cockhead sliding deeper into your tight, stretched passage.

You moaned, arching upwards towards him, fingers digging into his shoulders, nails leaving small crescent marks in his skin.

He paused for a moment, letting you adjust to the intrusion before resuming his pace. Each thrust was slower than the last, each one deeper, stretching you wider and wider until he finally bottomed out, his hips rocking against yours in a steady rhythm.

"Relax sweetheart. Daddy’s got you." He groaned, his breath hot against your ear, teeth nipping lightly at your earlobe.

The growl in his voice, the gritty undertone of the one little word made you clench tightly around his cock, alittle ashamed at loving the way he called himself that. You’d been so caught up drowning in pleasure, you had practically forgotten Anakin was your stepfather, forgotten how wrong this was, forgotten that he wasn’t yours. The reminder almost brought you to tears, or maybe it was the way he circled his hips to hit every ridge and crevice in the depths of your pussy. Maybe it was the way he held you closely as he rocked into you, both his arms tucked underneath you, one hand cradling your head, the other had a firm grip on your ass.

Or perhaps it was the way he praised you, complimented you, put you up on a golden dais. When he said he wanted to worship you, he truly meant it. Every inch of your body felt surrounded by him, like you were fully blanketed in his tender attention.

His hand left your ass to grip your leg tightly, pushing it back and up to your side; anchoring himself as he buried his cock deeper inside with each thrust. Every time he pulled out, he trailed his cockhead along your sensitive folds, before plunging back in again, hitting your G-spot perfectly.

"You’re so fucking tight, baby girl." He groaned, his voice low and husky. "Oh goddamn, I'm close..."

The sensuality of it, the sloshing sound your unbelievably wet cunt was making each and every time he moved, the fact that I could feel your own arousal dripping down your legs, it was overwhelming.

You were so focused on everything you were feeling that you only registered Anakin’s next words after you heard him let out a reedy whimper.

“Fucking hell. You’re killing me here doll.” He groaned. “squeezing me s’tight, being so fucking loud.”

Loud? You were being loud? Oh shit… you were being loud.

“Moaning like a fucking pornstar.” He mumbled, his eyebrows pinched together in concentration.

You flew back to the present moment, suddenly aware of everything ten times more intensely. A roar of white noise deafened you as your eyes rolled back in your head. Your throat constricting as you let out an unholy scream of pure heaven-sent pleasure. Your legs shaking, hands finding purchase behind your head in the form of gripping the headboard.

You called out Anakin’s name over and over again as though it was the only word you knew, your orgasm flooded you in ecstasy coating his cock and thighs in squirt, soaking the bed beneath you.

Anakin groaned, his own orgasm threatening to crash over him like a tidal wave. His grip on your leg tightened to the point of bruising as he pounded into you harder, faster, fucking you so senseless that you were as limp as a rag doll in his arms, whining and moaning, tears of pleasure and overstimulation trickling down your cheeks.

He growled low in his throat, his voice hoarse with need. "Oh fuck... Oh goddamn..."

Anakin groaned, leaning back to watch his cock disappear into your well-fucked hole. His bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

“Shhh-shit shit fuck oh…” His hips stuttered and you swear you saw goosebumps flare up on his arms as he scrunched his eyes shut and let out a low whine.

“Damnit, oh shit.” His breath hitched as he came, as though it took him by surprise. He quickly pulled out, watching his cock twitch as it prepared to shoot another load of sticky white cum. He lightly laughed at himself and looked down at you before pushing back in deeply, his cockhead brushing your cervix as he emptied the rest of his seed into you. “Fuck it I guess. Too late now.” He panted.

The feeling of him emptying himself inside you was unlike anything you’d ever experienced. It was hot, sticky, and somehow right. He remained buried deep, his breath steadying slowly, and his chest rising and falling rapidly.

"That was... damn." He finally managed to pull out of you slowly, his cock still half-hard, drenched in your shared fluids.

“Ani.” You moaned softly, chasing after him as he flopped over onto his back. You crawled over and tucked yourself against his side, playing with the coarse hairs beneath his navel.

"Mmm... you okay baby girl?" Anakin asked, reaching over to run a finger down your back, tracing the line of sweat that had accumulated during your lovemaking.

"Uh huh." You murmured, snuggling closer to him, your hand moving up to trace circles on his chest. You felt oddly content in this position, nestled against him, bodies still joined together by the thin layer of sweat and cum.

"Good." He muttered, placing a gentle kiss on top of my head. After a moment of silence, he spoke up. "How about we go shower? And I’ll change the sheets if you’ll go get me my cigarettes from the living room.”

“Deal.” You sighed contendedly. Standing up on wobbly legs, shooting Anakin a glare when he laughed at your expense; grabbing your ass to ‘help’ steady you.

"My poor little princess." Anakin chuckled, watching you stumble toward the bathroom door. "I don't think you'll be able to walk straight for hours."

Once in the bathroom, he turned on the water and waited patiently for it to heat up before joining you under the showerhead.

"Use my soap," he instructed, passing you a bar of something resembling cedar. "I want you to smell like me." He added as he nipped your shoulder.

You giggled and did as you were told, letting him wash your hair while you rinsed the soap from your body.

After stepping out of the shower he wrapped you in a towel as well as himself. Then ushered you to the sink so he could brush the tangles from your hair, he did this often, but now it felt different, more intimate… special.

He patted your ass with the back of the hair brush to send you off to get his cigarettes while he made the bed with clean sheets.

You happily went about the task and brought the cigarettes as well as a cup of ice water. By the time you returned Anakin was straightening out the blankets.

"Thanks, doll." Anakin accepted the items with a nod and smile, handing you a clean pair of panties as he slipped into some fresh boxers. Once dressed, he motioned for you to lie down, while he walked over to plop himself in your beanbag chair.

“What’re you doing all the way over there?” You complained.

“Shhh.” He chuckled. “I’m not smoking in the bed. It’ll make the sheets reek.“

“Fine.” You huffed. Letting your arm hang over the side of the bed as you looked over at him, watching the smoke curl around his head.

“You’re staring sweetheart.” He chuckled.

“Mhm. I know.” You nodded. “just… like to look at you.”

Anakin took a long drag from his cigarette, exhaling a cloud of smoke that drifted toward you. His eyes flickered with something you couldn't quite identify, possibly contentment mixed with a hint of something else.

"You're beautiful. Always." He murmured, taking another drag before setting aside the pack of cigarettes on the nightstand and putting out his cigarette in an empty water bottle on your nightstand. “I love to look at you too.”

You blushed, smiling as he crawled in beside you to pull you into a crushing embrace. Slowly releasing you to tilt up your chin for a slow and tender kiss.

“Is it… okay if I sleep in here with you?” He asked. Tracing your lips with the pad of his thumb.

“Yeah.” You nodded happily. “I’d like that.”

"Good girl." Anakin smiled, rolling onto his side to spoon you, wrapping his arms around your waist, his chest pressing against your back as he placed a soft kiss on the nape of your neck.

His hand drew patterns on your stomach, occasionally traveling up between the valley of your breasts.

His voice was low, almost inaudible as he spoke. “This- it feels right. Doesn’t it?”

“Yeah… it does.” You agreed, in the same tentative tone. You weren’t sure where he was going with this conversation but you were hopeful that maybe it meant this wouldn’t be a one time thing. Maybe it meant he could be yours… maybe.

Anakin’s hand moved lower, tracing slow circles along your panty line before settling on your hip bone. His thumb massaged in a lazy circle, mirroring the rhythm of his breathing.

"This is probably a bad idea." He muttered, voice thick with emotion. “what I’m about to say.”

"But I can't fucking stop thinking about you. Everything about you... your smile, your laugh, the excited little clap you do when you’re happy.” He whispered.

“I would do anything to make sure you’re always that happy, that’s why I spoil you the way I do. You’re… you’re the most important person in this world to me.”

“Now that I’ve had you… your smell, your taste, how it feels to hold you. To kiss you.” You couldn’t see his face but knew he was on the verge of tears by the way his voice cracked.

“I don’t know what to do. I-you’re… you are everything I want.” He cleared his throat.

“I think…” He breathed deeply. “I think I’ve loved you in ways that I shouldn’t for a long time now.”

“You love me?” You asked quietly, heart leaping from its cage and clawing up your throat.

Anakin didn’t respond immediately, leaving you both in a suffocating silence. You felt his heart racing faster against your back, matching the beat of your own.

"Yes." He finally managed to whisper, voice breaking. "I love you, doll. Always have." His hand squeezed yours tightly, his thumb tracing slow circles on your palm.

“I want more.” He choked out. “and I know I shouldn’t.”

Anakin remained silent, his breathing slowly returning to normal as he processed his own confession.

"I don't fucking care." He finally said, his voice raw with emotion. "I want you, I've wanted you for years. And now that we're here... I can't stand the thought of not having you."

“Please say something.” He whispered, his forehead resting on the nape of my neck.

You let out a shaky breath, feeling your eyes welling up with tears of joy and relief. "I love you too, Anakin."

“I- um… I don’t-“ You stammered, turning over to look at him with tear stained cheeks. “I don’t want to be without you. I love you. I want to be yours. I want- I mean… Anakin I…”

He quickly scooped you into his arms to hold you tightly, cradling your head as you cried.

“Shhh. It’s alright doll.” He said, stifling his own emotions. “it’s okay. I will figure this out for us okay? I will.”

You sniffled. “Promise?”

"Promise." Anakin parroted back.

He held you tightly, rocking you both until you calmed down, and eventually, exhaustion caught up to you . You drifted off to sleep, wrapped in his arms, feeling safer than you had ever felt before.

Lord Vader have mercy on my soul for the smut about to be unleashed on my page. This is a sweet little mushy thing… but my notes app is plagued with raunchy things that probably should’ve never left my brain.

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