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#love that would linger even after death like a curse
its-rach-writes · 3 days
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Like Father Like Son - Chapter One
Pairing: Harry Potter x Reader
Summary: In the midst of a brewing war, a Golden Retriever Gryffindor falls for a Black Cat Slytherin. Hadn't this all happened before?
Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, mentions of character death,
A/N: Soooo, I'm back in work after having 10 days of annual leave :'( I will be posting every other day instead of every day! Hope you guys enjoy this and please let me know what you think! xxx
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Chapter One
It wasn’t like you hated Harry Potter, because you really didn’t but you just didn’t get what all the fuss was about. Your dad had always taught you to be kind to people despite their blood status or Hogwarts house. When you arrived at Hogwarts, you tried to keep an open mind but Potter was simply infuriating.
He didn’t deserve to just be put on the Gryffindor Quidditch team in first year, after spending 5 minutes on a broom. And, you definitely wouldn’t admit that he was a pretty good player. Your infuriation only increased in second year when he emerged bloody and dirty from the Chamber of Secrets. If that had been anyone else, they would have been expelled, Potter didn’t even get points taken from him, in fact he was awarded a special service to the school!
In third year, you had to watch your Uncle love Potter more than he loved you, as they bonded over Potter’s mum and dad. The boy had stumbled his way through the Triwizard Tournament, getting favouritism at every turn, somehow beating students who were intellectually better than him. The tournament had come to a sticky end when he reappeared from the maze, clutching Cedric’s dead body and babbling about Voldemort being back.
In fifth year, oh in fifth year, for the first time in your life, you were grateful for Potter. Grateful that your Uncle wasn’t alone as he quietly slipped through the veil.
The woods were silent as you and your dad foraged in the clearing for potion ingredients. You were a perfectionist so you would be damned if you lost marks because your ingredients were old and shit. Besides, the silence seemed to work wonders for your dad.
“I’m worried for you, dad.”
He scoffed as he put some ingredients into your basket, “why in the world would you be worried for me?”
You bit your lip as the worry swirled in your stomach, “the Defence Against the Dark Arts position is cursed,” you tried not to think about what had befallen the previous Professors. Snape had left the school the year before and your dad had explained to you that the old potions master was coming back so he’d been asked to fill the role of Defence Against the Dark Arts.
“I don’t want what happened to Uncle Sirius happen to you.”
“Oh, my little star,” he pulled you into a hug, completely encasing you in his arms, “nothing is going to happen to me.”
“Love you, dad.”
“I love you too,” he kissed your forehead, “try to be nice to Harry Potter, this year yeah?”
You grumbled into his chest, “I’m not horrible to him or anything but he just infuriates me so much!”
Regulus snorted with a laugh, “yeah, I know the feeling.”
You cursed beneath your breath as the wheel of your suitcase got stuck. Again. It brought you to a grinding halt.
“Hey, Y/N!” you heard Potter before you saw him as he bent down to unstick the wheel. He was always so kind to you, despite your infuriation with him.
“Thanks Potter,” you went to turn away, but you saw how sad his eyes were, despite his smile, “I appreciate that Sirius wasn’t alone.”
Potter nodded as he pushed his glasses up his nose, “how are you doing with that by the way?”
You shrugged, “didn’t really know him.”
Potter scratched the back of his neck and it wasn’t hard to miss the guilt that spread across his face. You could see Granger and Weasley lingering behind him, “see you later, Potter,” you weren’t in the mood to bond over dead loved ones.
Draco waved at you as you pulled open the compartment door and sat between Blaise and Theo, “saw you talking to Potty,” he commented making you laugh.
“Don’t call him that. And, is this the part where you order me not to talk to him?”
Draco scowled at you, “I don’t care who you talk to, Y/N. Just leave me out of it.”
“Deal,” you grinned.
You spent the first hour sharing food with your friends, listening to Enzo’s stories about his summer in Italy. No one asked about your summer, to outsiders it might have looked like they were being rude but you knew they didn’t want to cause you unnecessary pain. You loved them for that.
Pansy looked up from where she was painting her nails, “isn’t your dad teaching Defence this year?” when you nodded, she smirked, “your dad’s hot.”
“What?!” you squawked.
“Come on! We’ve all seen the photograph of you and him that you put on your bedside. He’s sexy.”
“I agree,” Blaise spoke up, grinning at you, “Regulus Black is a dilf.”
You gagged dramatically, “both of you can keep your filthy mitts off my dad!”
The teasing continued until an eagle owl flew in through the open window looking bedraggled from the earlier rain. It landed on your lap and you took the note from its beak. Sparing a glance at the others, you broke the seal and read the letter, getting worried with every word.
“Mattheo’s not coming back this year,” you said as you passed the letter to Theo.
“Did you see him at yours over the summer?” Blaise asked. Voldemort had been taking up residence in the Malfoy Manor.
Draco shrugged, “when he wasn’t shut up in the guest room,” he glanced at you, “I’m surprised I didn’t see you over the summer.”
“My dad fell out of favour just before I was born,” ever since you were little you’d lived in a cute little house in a valley, by a lake.
But when Voldemort had returned a couple of years prior Regulus had moved you back to his mother’s house. It was unplottable on a map and had various enchantments to deter intruders though your dad still had to use Polyjuice Potion each time he left the house. Maybe Dumbledore has figured that he’d be safer at Hogwarts.
The rest of the journey was sobering as you all constructed a reply back to your friend, hoping he was alright. As the train reached the platform, Pansy outstretched her hand to Draco who stayed seated while the rest of you got up. He told the rest of you to go in ahead and he’d catch up.
You turned to Pansy as you got onto the platform, “you know, you can do a lot better than him right?” she’d had a crush on Draco for years.
“Trust me, I know that now. But, he really is the safest option right now.”
Draco quickly caught up to you while you were waiting to go into The Great Hall, he shoved his hands into his pockets as he followed you in. As you got to the Slytherin table, Pansy pouted as she looked up at the teacher’s table.
“I can’t see your gorgeous dad because Theodore is in the way!”
“I’m not encouraging your sick crush,” Theo laughed as he turned to wink at you.
“Thanks, Theo,” you giggled.
Soon enough, Dumbledore introduced the new Professors, Horace Slughorn and your dad, “there he is,” Pansy hissed in your ear over all the applause, you could hear the smirk in her voice.
Halfway through dinner, Potter walked in holding a bloody rag to his face as he sat down with his friends.
You turned to Draco, “what the fuck did you do?”
“What makes you think I did something?”
“You’re the only person who would,” you scoffed as you watched the boy mop at his face with an already bloodied rag. You grabbed a wad of tissues from your bag and walked over, “Potter, here,” you all but pushed the tissues into his hands.
“Y/N, thanks!” he grinned, even though it split his lip open, blood immediately running down his chin.
“Don’t get it twisted, didn’t want to watch you make a scene,” you spun on your heel and walked back across the hall, missing the way that Potter watched you with a dazed expression.
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Taglist: @hiireadstuff
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cigarett3wif3 · 12 hours
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TOMB FOR TWO
Rockstar Leon S. Kennedy x model reader | AO3 18+ MDNI. smut, female reader, drugs and alcohol addiction implied, Leon is scumbag i guess, blowjob, use of coke, deepthroat i guess, dirty talk. tags: @ivmp words: 2,934
notes: so.... dont do drugs/alcohol and idk i feel like i need to clarify, some stuff here i heard in real life directly from insufferable men, so don't interract with such kind of people for ur own good.
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Leon loves ladies, he was always the kind of man who loved every woman, if she was attractive enough to his taste of course. Also, he considered himself a nice guy, but a lot of girls didn’t get him. It got a lot worse when he cheated on his ex-girlfriend, after that nasty breakup and a slap he received, it felt like she had put a curse on him. Maybe he is cursed, it would explain why his attempts to form established relationships always failed. At least the passion for music was always with him, no matter how hard it was for him and it has helped indeed him in many areas; gaining more ego and becoming finally a rockstar, which certainly has helped him find lovers to warm his bed.
In his mind, he has already created his own list of preferences, models were always a big ‘no’ cause pretty dolls in the majority were the most annoying ones in his honest and ‘humble’ opinion. A lot of them are anorectic, and Leon doesn’t need a girl whose only hard thing in her mouth would have been his dick. Also, pretty women are usually really intimidating and have high standards, he doesn’t want to risk a possible denial. Cool guys don’t get hurt.
But that list didn’t help him at all, it didn’t prevent him from getting involved with you so quickly. A model and you looked sick for his tastes, dark circles under your eyes and lack of any vivid light in them too. He put two and two together, probably you did often drugs and he didn’t know which ones, he never asked. Your first appearance was at one of the events where his band performed and you were bored to death, gaze leaped around the surroundings, trying to find something more interesting to linger on than whatever this place is. Your pupils were dilated as hell and your jaw was tensed, making those useless movements and biting inside of your cheeks. He didn’t give much thought and he was drunk already while your fingertips were tracing his jaw and a sparkle in your eyes was enough for him. And after all, you agreed to come with him. His expectations weren’t high, another quick one-night stand he would forget about, but after stepping into his apartment you got sick. Vomiting in his toilet until it became quiet and he decided to check, after all, he is a good guy, really. And he doesn’t need a corpse in his flat. Pulling your hair to tilt your face towards him and witness your exhausted expression; your lips parted with saliva glistening on them and circles under your half-lidded eyes got more evident and darker. All this combined led to him having the hardest boner he has ever had.
Your presence in his life only gave him a boner and a headache, also an urge to strangle and shake you like a doll, but he never had enough strength to leave you behind and forget everything related to you. He tried, his mind would fill with thoughts about you, leading to jerk off a lot when he is sober and not recording music. His drunk ass would always crawl back to you, after feeling your eyes on him everywhere even when he was smoking out of a bar. Those billboards with your face, promoting some products and looking ethereal, without sickness all over your face, feeling your gaze as if it was only directed towards him. Those photos were the reasons his legs always lead him to your place, finding you already hammered as much as he is, if not worse, more than happy to let him spill his load in your mouth or pussy. After all, Leon is a simple man, not a romantic one, romanticism has died within him after that ‘undeserved’ slap.
Needles were a big ‘no’ for you, explaining they can leave marks and they are scary, also those are used by drug-addicted people which you believed you aren’t. After all, you like them thanks to your dear and generous friend who shares them with you. While Leon was an old-fashioned man, he has always preferred booze, even after finding himself in weird situations without any memories, only with pain pulsing in his head and hangover. You didn’t understand that at all, it has never brought you any good sensations, also alcohol has a distinct smell you have always hated and there is nothing sexy about it. That’s why Leon was always simple in your eyes, a rockstar with little to no existent layers in his personality; one hand with the bottle and the other one on his dick. In the end, both can destroy many lives.
Of course, whatever you both had going on gave you the possibility to visit his concerts without spending a penny. Leon has never asked if you like his music though, but still, he believes it is good, after all, there wouldn’t be a big female fanbase over anything? So there was never a thought behind his eyes to consider your tastes. Besides, you didn’t attend often, always brushing off your runway shows to which he was never invited. Not like he needed to be there, but still it made him feel a little bit bitter. Other reasons were similar to ‘I don’t want to’ and if to be honest, this isn’t a valid reason for his calls to be ignored.
This time you didn’t have other options, nor Leon would let you skip his performance. Soon understanding it was a mistake, you shouldn’t be here, cause during the entire concert his attention was drifting in between his music and you, trying to find you among many women. Every time he notices you not listening to the sound the instruments create, it fills him with bitterness and annoyance. Time passed slowly, finally finishing performance and emptying his flask quickly. He was tempted to leave you alone, to not give any warning, and get another girl from the crowd, but also this would be risky for a lot of reasons; first, he doesn’t have any condoms, and second, groupies are annoying and he doesn’t want to deal with them for a quick fuck today. The only solution he came across was to leave this place earlier and push you into his car.
The ride is okay, the only noise is some music coming from the car stereo. He twitched a little bit with the switch before, but he didn’t really listen to whatever was on until he recognized his own song. A nice touch. “Your music sucks” you say, breaking the silence which was only filled with his voice coming from the radio. This is new for you, music is his job, and what does a model know about it? His face turns to look at you for a brief moment, he is driving and he doesn’t want to get himself killed cause of you. “It doesn’t.” Leon protests quickly, but your voice interrupts him again, making him groan and want to stop the car. To strangle you. People love him! His groupies would be green with envy if they ever got to know about you. “It does” you say, resting your chin on the palm of your hand and looking through the window before rolling it down and letting fresh air coming in. The wind noise is ear beating, enough to give him a headache, nor does it help with his mood right now. Bashing noise to his ears, but you don’t care. Your voice fills the room, too bad it is loud enough to catch on and it is not mixed with the sound of the wind. The road is dark, and it is already hard to drive after consuming alcohol, but your voice makes this worse. “Your music never changes, mundane, same melody. Boring even, and generic. I don’t like it”
Then you stay silent, Leon’s mind is buzzing with only two thoughts in it: what a bitch you are, how he wants to shut you up with his dick and he needs to calm down, to let off steam. That’s three or four though. Math wasn’t his forte.
He pulled over his car, almost stumbling over from it as the chilly night breeze hit his face, filling his lungs. Refreshing and sobering in some way. It is dark, he didn’t even notice how he moved to your side and opened the door, looking down at your face with a blank stare, while his slow mind keeps processing your words. You shift on the seat of the car to face him with a raised eyebrow, looking so annoyed and confused by his attitude. Leon isn’t sure why he was hurt by your words, but this look was not new for him; every time a sentence would leave his mouth, your face would express an annoyance as if he just said the dumbest thing possible. You are probably just trying to mess with him and this always made him hornier, his cock would start stiffening in his jeans and even this isn’t an exception, like one of Pavlov’s dogs he is. Or this is just alcohol talking.
The inside of the car enlightens your features and it is maybe the only thing so bright in such a dark spot right now of the road. His index finger brushes over your lower lip, tracing the contour of soft flesh beneath his thickened skin after years of playing guitar. He can’t help but stare at your mouth, admiring the lipstick on it, looking clean and emphasizing the shape of your lips. Too bad his digit smeared the color a little bit over the form. You don’t notice that thank God, cause he doesn’t need another comment from you. Silence makes you much prettier. Your hand reaches for his thigh, brushing over the inner part and the annoyance in your gaze quickly changes to interest as it slowly travels down to the bulge which started to form already. Leon doesn’t know what magic you use on him, cause it is much easier to get even half-hard dick with you, while the majority of girls would waste his time and then cry about not being able to turn him on. He blamed this trouble on them, not on his best friend (booze). To not waste much time, you tuck out his cock from his pants.
Your fingers envelop his half-hard length, before stroking, spitting a mouthful of your saliva down on it. Spreading over the hardened skin with a quick and easy motion of your hand, your touch lingers on the spot below its tip which makes him groan lowly. His fingers tangle in your strands, pulling your face closer to his cock as a silent plea to sink your mouth down around him.
“Don’t play, come on,” Leon says, not noticing how his voice got hoarse. “Give it a kiss, doll” In the past, you would be annoyed at his words, but tonight you don’t mind, enjoying how pretty he is when he wants to shove his dick down your throat. Your lips press against his tip and kiss around it, teasing him and licking away precum, finally bobbing your head down. The warm and wet heat of your mouth envelops his cock, your tongue flicks along the shaft. Leon can feel himself getting harder and his hips buck back in response, letting quiet groans. But the bliss didn’t last a lot, you pop out his cock and slap it against your tongue, rubbing against your lips while keeping eye contact with his eyes. The sight is dirty, lipstick leaves its color on his wet and throbbing dick, intensifying the moment.
Until he noticed there was something under your silver sequin top, that caught his gaze only now. But also he doesn’t know what it may be, wondering silently and fixating on your chest. Or he is just seeing things, until your hand slightly lowers the edge of fabric to take the bag with white powder, satisfying his curiosity. The timing made him frown, almost convincing himself you could read his mind. But also, what should he have expected? Boobs would be nice, actually.
He isn’t going to deny a pleasure to see them. That’s why his hands reach for the edge of the fabric, pulling down to expose your breasts, nipples get harder at the contact with the cold air of the night. His fingers knead soft flesh, thumb and index pinch nipples to evoke your moans out, observing your face change even for a brief moment because of him until you slap away his hands. It was nice while it lasted. He watches how you make a thin white line on his cock, almost dripping some on your skirt, and letting a curse fall from your lips. If to be honest, this is his first time seeing you doing drugs in front of him. Also, there are too many ways to consume Coke, he heard about how some women shove it in their vagina, but he isn’t sure if this is true. You lean down and snort it away with an ‘ah’ leaving your lips, while rubbing your nose and blinking messily, trying to shake off some tears forming on your waterline. He was tempted to try, but you don’t share.
“Fuck, that was hot” Leon comments, letting a low whistle. Your hand pumps his cock in a steady rhythm.
The little pause was over, with a giggle and lightened expression on your face, coke does wonders. Your mouth starts giving kisses, before sucking on the tip more eagerly than before, and your tongue swirls in a circular motion around it. For a brief moment, you shift to the underside too by flicking over that sensitive spot, making his hips buck, pushing your head deeper to sink you down along the length. You can feel more saliva pooling in your mouth, slobbering over his cock now, and spit drips down onto his balls. The Coke has its visible influence now, dilated pupils are directed into his blue eyes, keeping eye contact. He knows that state of yours, being happy and confident to do anything, clinging and not letting him go away until powder’s effects don’t start to weaken. Your heart is beating loudly in your ears, not hearing those loud suction noises your mouth does which he adores. Leon’s fingers tighten his grip on your hair, tugging and pushing your head deeper, his tip kissing your throat and he groans, while your nose rubs against his happy trail. Your jaw is more relaxed, taking him deeply and you try to swallow the excess of saliva and his precum, so your throat tightens around his cock, he can feel you choking on his now twitching arousal. It is useless, you can feel saliva dripping not only on his sac now, but also from the corners of your mouth down to your collarbone. Leon pulls your head away before slamming with quick motion his hips against your face again. His cock is slick with your saliva, sloppily moving out and back into your mouth, constant stimulation of your tongue flicking against his head and at the base made his balls tighten signaling that his orgasm is approaching. Initially, his own moans are breathless, slowly starting to increase in volume, as he took more control in his own hands. His movements are erratic, the sight of your teary expensive mascara and lipstick ruined by him and leaving marks on his cock is one of many reasons to be alive, he thinks.
“Do you see yourself right now, huh?” He moans, shaking his head with disbelief, as you keep sucking him off sloppily, making more wet sounds that intensify and fill the air between you both. His voice is at the edge of quiet whine, needy moans reach your ears. “Yeah, that’s it, all you have to do is let my cock just slide in and out of your pretty mouth, doll”
He slams his hips for the last time burying his cock deep into your throat, the head grinds before twitching for a last time spurting out a load of cum. His fingers grip tighter, almost painfully, not letting you pull away and spit it out, swallowing the bitterness that fills your senses, making you gag more. The booze diet isn’t the best one. He lets you pull away, your tongue for the last time brushed his tip and he stands still, his breathing is unsteady and chaotic, while you wipe away the remaining saliva from your skin.
“So….” Leon interrupts the silence between them, he is speaking without giving too much thought, and he quickly pauses for a second, trying to organize a decent sentence. “What about… something formal? Between us I mean” Your eyes don’t even linger on his face after his question, the so-known-annoyance returns to your face and you pull down the sun visor to fix your makeup. “Ew, no” your voice expresses disgust at the thought of being more than just a quick hookup, you roll your eyes as your thumb cleans the smear of your lipstick. Your nose twitches still, even if the effect of the drug starts to lessen. “I don’t like you like that” “It was a joke,” he brushes off quickly, feeling his own body recovering from orgasm and wanting to get away from you, so the bitterness and disappointment would not irk him so much. “For God’s sake, smile at least.”
Story of his life, nothing new.
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hellomayu · 1 year
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— love is the most twisted curse of all.
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chocum · 3 months
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COMING DOWN !
— bunched up, sweet little whimpers, he always gets so sensitive under your touch feat. choso kamo
WARNINGS. femreader (she/her) x goodguy!cho :3 mentions of violence/death, sub cho, dom reader, overstimulation, begging, blowjob, premature ejaculation ;( crying + 1.2k wc note. i’m so insane abt choso it’s actually scary, he’s all i think about. tysm for all the support on my first post. love u all! feedback + reblogs are appreciated! also art by @/swag_yay on x. ty again & enjoyyy ᡣ𐭩
choso hated missions with a passion that pierced his very soul.
his cursed energy manipulation and combat skills are unrivaled, making him crucial to a mission’s success, but the relentless nature of them drained him beyond words— both mentally and physically.
they feel so repetitive: eliminate curses, protect civilians, prevent damage. eliminate curses, eliminate curses, eliminate.
he has always been driven by a deep desire to protect everyone he could, especially those who were unable to do so themselves, but the constant cycle of violence and death confused him—wrestling with self-doubt, doing mental gymnastics, trying to justify his actions. the cognitive strain became a heavy burden that compounded during missions, further exhausting him like heavy buckets of water dousing an already flickering flame.
and after meeting you — his sweet, sweet girl — his hatred for missions only grew.
the ache of missing you constantly gnawed at him. your homey scent. your taste still fresh on his tongue, preventing him from concentrating because, in his mind, he’s still tangled in your sheets, stealing sweet kisses that linger on his lips long after they’ve left yours.
when out scouting, he would catch glimpses of couples hand in hand in the streets sporting deep smiles, making his stomach twist— his brows pinching together, deepening the ridge between them.
his sole solace was the thought of returning home to his pretty girl once everything was over— it pushes him to keep going, to keep fighting, even avoiding shoko because he preferred your clumsy little hands to patch him up.
finally done with his latest three-week mission — a seeming eternity away from you — he was being driven to your place, to you, home.
head lolling back against the car seat, he spreads his legs wider, rolling his hips to adjust himself, before sinking, letting the leather seat swallow him whole. he tilts his head to the side, deep purple irises flickering, to watch the familiar scenery— large leafy trees crowding the darkening highway under evening skies.
after he waved his goodbyes, giving thanks to his driver, he stumbled up to the door, his fingers fumbling awkwardly with the keys underneath the dim light of the porch. on the other side, the distinct sound of the lock clicking open causes you to bolt up, rushing to greet him.
he pushes it open and there you are. looking up at him with that big smile he adores so much lighting your face— pretty eyes sparkling with relief. you squeal and fling your arms around him without hesitation and he does the same, burying his face into the side of your neck, feeling your hair brush against him, inhaling deeply.
you always smelled so good— a blend of your natural scent and hints of vanilla from your body wash. he’s been craving that scent for so long, growing dizzy now that it finally embraces him, his body falling limp, so weak in your smaller arms.
you pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, fingers gently tracing the smooth lines on his face— lines that seemed deeper since you’d last seen him.
“i missed you so much” you hummed faintly as he cupped your face, nuzzling your warm cheeks against his rough hands.
“i missed you so much more”
he leaned down to find your lips. they felt so much softer than he remembered. kissing you deeply, his calloused hand cradling the back of your neck, drawing you closer into the warmth of his embrace.
and when you moan against him— oh, it sounds so sweet, the blood rushing to his cock so quickly. next thing he knows, he’s rutting against your thigh, pressing against you so, so desperately, almost mounting you.
“what’s wrong cho?” a soft whine escapes him at the sudden loss of contact, “tell me, baby, use your words”
“i’m sorry,” he breathes, a pretty blush crawling up his neck, “just missed you so much— got excited”
“i know, my pretty boy, but ‘m here now, okay? let me take care of you. i know you missed it.” you take his hand, drawing him to your room as he follows obediently, shutting the door behind him, “did you touch yourself without me?”
he shakes his head, his fluffy hair cascading down to rest on his shoulders. “you .. you told me not no”
“good boy”
you push against his shoulders, gently guiding him to sit on the bed, his breath hitching so sweetly watching you lift yourself to straddle his waist. connecting your lips once more, hips grinding against him so slowly— rocking back and forth. his mouth now tinted pink and tenderly swollen from your ardent kisses, you move down to his neck planting a trail of light ones along the sensitive skin, each touch eliciting subtle little quivers and soft exhales. his fists bunch up the sheets, he—
“sorrysorrysorry” he babbles breathlessly— endlessly, his pants turning damp, material darkening as his cock twitches and pulses so cutely, cum drooling out his sensitive slit, “just feel so good against me. been so long. couldn’t even touch myself when you sent those pictures. it’s so sensitive”
“shhhh ‘s okay, cho.” a finger pressed against his pout— pushing its way in for him to suckle on warmly before you slide down to your knees. trailing your hands down his thighs, tugging on the hem of his pants, “i’ll clean you up”
he’s still so hard— his tip blushing, crying white cream, and when you take him in your hands, his hips jerk up for you— body still coming down from his high and you’re already taking him in your mouth, cruelly, licking fat stripes up his twitchy length.
“fuck ‘s too much baby, i just- wai, wait, please.” he’s pawing at you, pushing against your head, but he sounds too cute, crying and whimpering around you for you to stop— looks too cute with the prettiest pink blush shrouding his body from the tips of his heated ears to his curled toes.
you gargle and gag around his cock— exaggerating the sounds because you know it drives him insane. he loves when you get so nasty and messy for him, foamy spit bubbling around where his cock plugs your mouth up. your hands move to cup his warm balls, caressing and squeezing gently, coaxing him to cum for you again.
“ah f- baby, i’m so fucking— please. wanna cum for— you. gonna be so good, gonna—”
he cums salty, thick stripes straight down your warm throat with a whine so pretty you wish it was recorded so you could play it over and over and over.
and he’s crying— it’s too much, feels too good — sweetly hiccuping, sniffing as he hides his face behind his hands. such a pretty boy. he’s growing limp in your mouth and you pull off with a whine before kissing up his shaky legs.
“did so good for me, cho, missed having you like this” lightly moving his hands to pet at his damp cheeks, watching keenly how he leans into your touch, wiping pretty doll-like tears with your thumbs.
knowing that he has you to take such good care of him once he’s home will forever ease his mind while he’s away, a comforting thought that lingers like a soft embrace, even in your absence.
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gojoux · 7 months
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『 𝐍𝐎 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐌𝐄 』
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· Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna x Reader
· Summary: Life has decided to lead you to him or lead him to you, knowing that you two are destined together despite your differences. This told story is just a glimpse of a few memories between you and him, one that he remembers dearly.
· CW: 8.6k // Mostly fluff. True Form!Sukuna. Heian Era. Overprotective + Possessive Sukuna. Very subtle sex scenes. Slight violence.
Late post because the app screwed me over a divider. As you see... it’s thicker like him than usual.
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The infamous King of Curses had only one weakness—you.
Ryomen Sukuna, the most fearsome sorcerer (or used to be one) alive, would melt in your presence. His usual cold and cruel demeanor vanished when he was with you, replaced by a gentle sweetness he showed to no other.
From the very first moment your paths crossed, he was utterly enthralled, something he would never expect to feel in his life. You’re someone he doesn’t even know or heard of and he doesn’t find the appeal from you, but there’s just something about you that makes him enchanted at first sight.
Your luminous soul called to him like a song. He knew you were destined to be his. And so he courted you as tenderly as his blackened heart would allow, coaxing you to return his affections.
Slowly, gently, he broke down your defenses. His smoldering gazes made your heart flutter. His feather-light touches from his big, strong hands and fingers sent shivers down your spine. Before long, you realized you were falling for this demon who looked at you with such longing in his crimson eyes.
He could shower you with all the passion and devotion he had been holding back. He cherishes you, catering to your every desire. Just being near you was euphoric for him.
When apart, he counted the seconds until he could see you again. And when reunited, he was unable to keep his hands off you, showering you with passionate kisses and whispers of sweet words.
“You are mine. Remember that,” he would murmur against your skin as he held you close. “Always.”
You had tamed the beast. Or so you thought.
While Sukuna was nearly defenseless against your love, it also ignited something far more sinister—his jealousy.
The mere idea of losing you made his blood burn with rage. Other men were not even permitted to look at you, lest they get torn limb from limb.
Though deeply in love, Sukuna’s possessive nature remained. And woe befall any who dared threaten what was his.
The first time it happened was weeks after you’d become his. A young lord from a clan sent you gifts and flowers, seeking your affection. When Sukuna discovered this, the fury in his eyes turned them molten gold.
“He dares think he can steal you away from me?” Sukuna seethed. In an instant, he vanished to hunt down the offending lord.
He returned hours later drenched in blood that was not his own. You shuddered to imagine what cruel fate had befallen the misguided young man. Sukuna said nothing of it, simply pulled you into a bruising kiss and swore you’d never leave his side again.
After that, the corpses started piling up.
A guard who eyed you lasciviously, eviscerated.
A peasant whose longing stare lingered too long, executed.
Anyone who so much as looked at you with desire was signing their own death warrant.
You begged Sukuna to show mercy, but your pleas fell on deaf ears. “They try to take what is mine,” he would snarl. “They deserve no less than agony and death.”
His demonic nature had fully resurfaced, and you realized just what you had unleashed. Sukuna would slaughter legions and burn the world to ashes if it meant keeping you.
You were terrified of what he had become. Yet some traitorous part of you thrilled at being so coveted, so passionately loved, even if it came at a bloody cost.
He was an obsession incarnate, and you, his obsession.
No matter where you turned, his shadow loomed.
There would be no escaping the King of Curses’ dark desires.
You were his.
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How did it all start? It’s been too long since it went past your head already.
But you do remember vividly when you were walking that one night when your gut told you not to, you did.
You should have listened to your instincts. But there was something about the forest at night that called to you, beckoning you to explore its moon-bathed paths and whispering trees.
Curiosity won out over caution, and you decided one quick walk couldn’t hurt.
You set out just after sunset, relishing the kiss of cool night air on your skin. The woods were serene and lovely in the deep blue hush just before true darkness fell. Night blooms perfumed the air as you wandered along aimlessly, simply savoring this secret world.
Until you realized you had lost your way. Suddenly the trees seemed more ominous, the shadows deeper. You paused, peering anxiously through the gloom.
How long have you been walking?
Which way was home?
As you turned around in circles trying to get your bearings, a blow of wind appeared behind you. You froze, heartbeat thudding in your ears.
“Well, what do we have here?”
You whipped around with a gasp. Emerging from the trees was a tall, powerfully built man. But what drew your wide-eyed stare were the four arms crossed onto his bare, toned chest.
You stumbled back in terror, but he moved unnaturally fast, appearing before you in an instant. Up close, details that had escaped you at a distance were now frighteningly clear. Tattoos are carved on his face and body. His eyes burned crimson.
You were face to face with the King of Curses himself.
“Please…” you whimpered, trembling. “I mean no trespass...”
Sukuna tilted his head, considering you with evident amusement. He reached out an arm towards you, his fingers gliding along your jaw, tipping your chin up. You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing for death.
But instead of tearing you apart, he simply chuckled. “Open your eyes. I will not harm you.”
You cracked them open hesitantly. Sukuna was observing you closely now, intrigued.
“Fear not. I merely wondered who was wandering my woods at this late hour,” he purred. “But I see now… you are no threat at all.”
His touch was surprisingly gentle as he traced the line of your throat. You shivered but did not dare pull away. The heat of his skin felt feverish against yours.
“What brings you here to me, I wonder?” he murmured, his piercing gaze seeming to lay your soul bare.
He tutted, circling you slowly. “These woods are dangerous at night, especially for tempting morsels like yourself. Do you have any idea what lurks in the shadows?” He paused expectantly, but you were too petrified to respond.
You licked your dry lips nervously. “I… I was simply exploring. I did not mean to disturb—”
“Quiet.” A finger pressed lightly over your mouth. “How shall I punish this trespass? I do hate uninvited guests.”
You finally found your voice, though it trembled pitifully. “P-please, I meant no intrusion. If you let me go, I swear I will never—”
“Let you go?” Sukuna tilted his head, looking almost offended. “Now, why would I do that? No, you will not be leaving.”
Your heart hammered at those enigmatic words. Just what did this dangerous being want with you? Surely not anything good.
As if reading your mind, Sukuna laughed once more. “Worry not, little one. I only wish for some company.” In the blink of an eye, he closed the distance between you, caging you with his body. This close, the heat pouring off him was incredible, the coils of his tattoos seeming to slither and shift before your eyes with your heart hammering wildly.
A violent shudder went through you, though not entirely from fear now. Being clasped in his strong embrace had stirred something unexpected within you. A strange exhilaration at having caught the eye of this exotic and terrible being.
He leaned down, inhaling deeply near the crook of your neck. “Mm, such fear. I can taste it rolling off your skin… intoxicating.” His lips grazed your fluttering pulse, making you shudder. “You are afraid, yet also thrilled to see me, aren’t you?”
Heat rushed to your cheeks. Was it that obvious, the traitorous excitement you felt being so close to this dangerous demon? You just couldn’t tear your eyes away from his unusual beauty.
“I thought so,” he purred, looking utterly satisfied. He brushed a finger lightly down your cheek. “It seems fate has brought you to me for a reason.”
Sukuna sensed your reaction and made a small pleased noise. In one smooth motion, he swept you up into his arms and started carrying you deeper into the woods.
You gasped, hands braced against the solid muscles of his shoulder. “Where are you taking me? Please, I never meant to intrude! I am sorry! just—”
“Shut it.” His grip tightened. “Do not fight me. Submit, and it will go easier for you.”
Tears of panic spilled down your cheeks. But despite your fear, you felt your body responding to his proximity, pulsing with alarming warmth. Your thoughts scattered as Sukuna claimed your mouth in a searing kiss, tasting your helpless whimper.
“What are you…” you gasped, too speechless to find a word to fight back.
As if reading your mind again, Sukuna adjusts the way he’s carrying you to brush his lips against your own in a feather-light caress. “I hope you are not too afraid, little one. I have been alone for so long, you will keep me company. And I have no intention of letting you go.”
Some part of you recognized the truth in his words. No matter how your mind recoiled, your body was betraying you, longing for more of his addictive caresses. He sensed your crumbling resistance, his smile triumphant.
“You are mine now. Do not fight it.”
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You stared around in awe at the sprawling shinden-zukuri as Sukuna placed you down and led you inside. Paper screens glowed warmly with lantern light, illuminating opulent tatami rooms decorated with priceless scrolls and vases, and through meticulously tended gardens dotted with tranquil ponds. Everything about this place spoke of immense power and wealth.
It was a far cry from your own humble village dwelling. You could scarcely fathom how a demon lord had come to possess such a magnificent noble estate out here in the remote forest.
As Sukuna guided you deeper into the manse, you passed several elegantly dressed women in simple yet elegant kimonos, all keeping their gazes demurely lowered.
‘Servants,’ you realized. But where had they come from? Were they taken like how you are now? Were you about to become another of his servants?
When you reached the main manor, Sukuna slid open the screen to reveal a grand receiving chamber. Priceless ink scrolls and painted silk screens adorned the walls. The opulence was staggering.
“Do you like it?” he asked, noting your awe. “I claimed this estate long ago from its previous owners.”
You shivered at the implication behind those words but said nothing as he guided you deeper inside.
Your bemused wondering was interrupted when Sukuna slid open a screen door, ushering you into a lavish bed chamber. A large futon covered in silks took up most of the space.
“You must be weary, little one,” he stroked your hair. “Rest now. I will have my servants draw you a bath.”
He pressed his lips to your forehead before gliding from the room. Still stunned by your opulent surroundings, you wandered over to the open window. Beyond the manicured gardens and koi ponds you could see nothing but dense forest stretching endlessly. Just how far had Sukuna brought you?
You had little time to ponder before two servant women appeared, bowing deeply. They poured hot water into a carved wooden tub and then added cherry blossom-scented oils.
You let them help you disrobe and sink into the fragrant bath, the tension in your muscles unwinding. The demon’s domain was still terrifying and foreign, but you couldn’t deny the comforts he lavished upon you. His possession had a gentleness to it that left you conflicted.
This place treated you better in less than two hours than your whole life in the village.
After your bath, the servants dressed you in silken robes layered in rich hues of wisteria and spring leaves. Darkened your lips with crushed berries. They arranged your hair with jade combs and dabbed perfume at your wrists in a courtly fashion.
Examining their work in a bronze mirror, you barely recognized yourself. The simple village girl staring back from the bronze mirror was gone, replaced by someone who looked like a noblewoman.
Sukuna was waiting when you emerged, hungry eyes sweeping over you appreciatively. “Beautiful,” he pulls you close to him. His lips grazed your wrist, inhaling the perfume there. “You will come to appreciate the comforts of being mine.” His words sent an illicit tingle through you.
“Thank you,” was all you could say as you felt your body sway toward him, eyelashes fluttering downward demurely. His attentions were clouding your caution, making you forget the circumstances that had brought you here.
Sukuna seemed pleased by your response. He took your hand and led you to a candlelit room where a feast awaited. You kneeled on plush cushions across from him. There, your eyes widen at the sight—dishes you could only dream of tasting.
“Uraume is my best cook. They know how to make delicious food,” he brags, pointing at the person with white bob hair with his eyes. Uraume bowed respectfully before excusing themselves.
As the night deepened, Sukuna kept your cup full, his burning gaze holding yours in the romantic glow. Here in this place of luxury, it was easy to forget he was someone who had stolen you away.
“Come.” He held out one of his hands. “It is time you rested.”
Back in the bed chamber, he guided you down onto silken sheets while your pulse quickened. His eyes roamed your body hungrily before he leaned down to claim your lips in a deep kiss. You knew you should resist, but his touch ignited a dangerous fire inside.
His fingers trailed delicately along your skin as he peeled away each layer of your robes until you were laid bare before him. “You are so lovely, little one,” he rasped. He pressed you down into the silken futon, his eyes focused on you. “I will teach you pleasures fit for an empress,” he growled.
“And you will learn to crave my body above all else.”
His words sent a spike of fear through you, even as your traitorous body responded hungrily to his. His burning caress left no doubt of his intentions. You trembled, but didn’t refuse him.
Here in this beautiful prison, you were his to do with as he pleased. And some traitorous part of you craved to experience the passions he promised.
As Sukuna’s body covered yours, you surrendered completely to him. Within these walls, you now belonged utterly to him.
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You had been living as Sukuna’s pampered pet in his lavish manor for several days now. He gifted you an ornate silk kimono, adorned your hair with jeweled combs, and ensured you lacked nothing. At night, he would lay you across silken futons and set your body aflame with new realms of pleasure.
But each morning after, as he caressed your skin and murmured endearments, doubts crept in. Were there others that he touched this way? The thought filled you with unease.
You wanted his passion reserved only for you.
When Sukuna appeared in your room this evening, he found you quiet and distant, your smile restrained. Brow furrowing, he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze.
“What troubles you, little one? Have I not provided for you well?”
You gathered your courage. “I… I have a request, My Lord…”
He raised one brow, “Oh? Speak.”
“If we are to share such intimacy, I wish it to be only between us. No other lover, in any way.” You held his gaze evenly. “Will you vow this, please?”
For a moment Sukuna only stared, stunned by your bold demand. Then a sly smile curved his lips.
“My little one wishes to tame me, is that it?” He trailed a finger lightly down your cheek. “You seek to bind me to yourself alone?”
Heart pounding, you gave one short nod.
Sukuna threw back his head with a delighted laugh. “You fascinate me endlessly. No mortal has ever dared make demands of me.” His expression softened by looking at your innocent face. “But for you, I will agree.”
He leans down, face to face with you, “From now on, I am yours alone.”
Relief washed through you at his oath. As Sukuna drew you into a passionate kiss, you yielded completely for the first time, holding nothing back.
“My sweet, little love…” He lifted you in his arms. “I will make you forget any existed before this night.”
And he did. Laying you down, hands and lips he worshiped you, wringing gasps and cries from your lips as you arched desperately, mindless and pleading beneath him.
At the height of ecstasy, his burning gaze held yours. His heated gaze seared into yours at the pinnacle, fierce and possessive. “No other shall ever know you as I do.”
The feeling when your body joined, the sensation was beyond words, it felt like coming home. Like a missing piece of your soul had been restored. Wave after wave of bliss crested over you both, leaving you entwined in breathless ecstasy.
As lantern light faded to silvery moonbeams, Sukuna held you close, your heartbeats synchronizing. You now belonged only to each other in body, heart, and soul.
“Mine,” Sukuna rasped against your skin, his canine digging into your neck, marking you as his. “Just as I am yours. This, I vow to you, little one, from now until the end of days.”
His words echoed long in your mind, even as spent passion gave way to sleep in his enveloping embrace. The King of Curses himself was now bound to you irrevocably. And you to him.
The vow had been spoken, the ritual complete.
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The days had settled into a predictable routine in Sukuna’s residence. He would vanish for hours or even full days to attend to mysterious “business”, leaving you to wander the chambers and gardens alone. You never ask where he went or what occupied him. Some fears were best left unspoken.
But your heart would lift eagerly whenever Sukuna returned, no matter how late the hour. Just knowing he had come back to you was enough. You took to waiting anxiously by the engawa, ready to greet him.
At first, he returned spotless and composed. But soon the blood became noticeable.
It would decorate his arms, spatter his chest and face in drying rust-colored patterns. The life essence of whatever poor souls had crossed him in the nearby villages. You didn’t need to ask how it got there.
The first time, you gasped and shrank back in horror. But Sukuna just smiled and opened his arms to you. “Come, let us get cleansed of the day’s exertions.”
You forced yourself to look past the gore, seeing only your demonic lord who needed tending. Taking his hand, you led him to the bath chamber.
There you gently sponged away the carnage, breathing relief when his skin emerged clean again. Sukuna watched you intently, eyes glowing with unspoken emotions. You didn’t dare examine it too closely.
When you were done, he would pull you into his lap, nuzzling against your throat almost tenderly. As if your ministries had tamed the beast lurking within.
“My little one,” he would rumble. And your heart would swell under his praises.
Before long, you began living for his returns. The hours apart stretched endlessly, your thoughts consumed with concern for his well-being. Your chest would tighten with loneliness in his absence. Maybe you craved him because you have no one to come home to, that’s why you are willing to be with him.
Surely he must share your needs, right?
The moment his shadow appeared down the corridor, you flew to him, embracing him heedless of any lingering blood. Sukuna laughed indulgently, hands gentling your desperation.
“Such passion, little one. Did you miss me so terribly?”
You nodded, not caring how you exposed your dependence on him. He tipped your chin up, his sharp eyes looking at you softly. “As I missed you. The time apart is agony.”
His admission made you smile in relief. After bathing him, you would prepare tea and draw him into quiet conversation, savoring this domestic intimacy. Here with you, he almost seemed content.
At late night, his lovemaking took on new urgency, as if reaffirming your bond. You matched his intensity, wanting to erase any distance the day had built between you.
“You are all I need,” he whispered afterward, cradling you close. And you knew then you were hopelessly lost to this dangerous creature. He had become your entire world.
When Sukuna departed each morning, part of you went with him. Until he returned to make you whole once more. There was no denying the truth—you were his, mind, body, and soul.
You see, life with Sukuna provided came at a terrible price—the waiting.
And so you hatched a plan.
You requested the finest silks from the seamstress and described the revealing garment you wished to craft. An elegant yet alluring yukata, hinting at the beauty beneath.
On the night of his homecoming, you adorned yourself carefully, arranging your hair over your bare shoulders, sketching your lips crimson. The ensemble left you feeling exposed, but also powerful.
When Sukuna entered the bed chamber, the sight of you made him halt in his tracks. Eyes widened as they traced over you hungrily, taking in every contour the diaphanous fabric outlined.
“Little one,” he rasped. “You look like divinity itself. What is all this for?”
You steeled your nerves and went to him, guiding his fingers to untie your sash with hands that trembled.
“I wish to ease your burdens tonight, My Lord. Will you permit me?”
A growl escapes his throat as your robes slip to the floor. The intensity of his gaze seared into your skin everywhere it touched. Strong arms pulled you fiercely against him.
“You test my restraint, beloved. Are you certain?”
At your whispered yes, his control shattered. With infinite care he bore you down onto silken sheets, praising every inch of newly bared flesh until you were dizzy and pleading.
Even at its peak, he kept the pace languid—long, delirious strokes of passion. The pleasure was sweet agony. You arched and moved as one, minds entwining as deeply as your bodies.
When it ended, you were changed. Sukuna held you tenderly as languor claimed you both, as if you were the most precious treasure in the world.
Perhaps you should have been afraid of this obsessive devotion. But you could not imagine life without him now.
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As nice as it is living comfortably with everything provided for you, sometimes his residence becomes a gilded cage. You yearned to walk beyond the gardens, to visit the nearby villages you glimpsed from afar.
After much pleading, Sukuna finally relented. “If it will make you happy, we shall go. But you must stay close to me.” His eyes held an unspoken warning.
The day came at last. Taking his arm, you ventured out onto the winding forest paths, buzzing with excitement. Sukuna watched you closely, as if to imprint each delighted reaction.
When the first simple thatched dwellings came into view, you gasped. “Oh, look! Real village life, just as I remembered.”
“Then let us explore it,” he said indulgently, strolling by your side.
You moved through stalls selling woven reed baskets, hand-dyed yukata, and carved jade amulets. The smells of grilling fish and blossom-scented steam from tea houses mingled in the air. Your smile was radiant.
Most villagers averted their eyes and scrambled away at the sight of his presence. But their fearful deference only seemed to amuse Sukuna as he guided you along.
Pausing by a fountain, you turned joyfully to him. “Thank you for this, My Lord. I haven’t felt this happy in…” Your voice trailed off as you noticed a young man staring from across the village square. His gaze was fixed on you, his handsome face breaking into a flirtatious grin, looking at you with his eyes signaling interest.
Before you could react, Sukuna had crossed the distance between them in two swift strides. You watched in horror as he seized the insolent youth by the throat and slammed him against a wall, baring razor fangs.
“You dare look at her that way?” he thundered. The young man choked out pleas for mercy as Sukuna’s grip tightened relentlessly.
“My Lord! Stop!” You rushed over, clutching his arm. “I beg you, let him go!”
With obvious reluctance, Sukuna released his hold and stepped back. The terrified man crumpled to the ground, wheezing with his face pale. You tugged Sukuna (he didn’t resist) away quickly as onlookers gaped.
Once you were back within the secluded forest path, he rounded on you. “Why did you stop me?” he demanded, eyes still burning with fury. “That whelp was openly desiring what is mine.”
You trembled. “He meant no true offense, My Lord.”
Sukuna exhaled harshly, drawing you against him. “You are too forgiving, little one. Next time I may not be so lenient.” The promise in his voice chilled you.
Nonetheless, in the days that followed, you persuaded him to let you visit the village markets again. Sukuna acquiesced, but his mood turned brooding whenever you went out together.
It was not long before a repeat incident occurred. A passing noble’s gaze lingered on you a moment too long. Sukuna's reaction was swift and merciless. Before you could intervene, the shrieking lord was engulfed in infernal flames, his ashes scattering to the wind.
This time, Sukuna was deaf to your pleas for restraint. “They continue testing me, presuming they can admire my possession with impunity,” he snarled. “I will suffer this insult no more.”
Numb with horror, you could say nothing as he took your arm and led you from that place of death.
Sukuna would never change his nature. His jealousy and possessiveness were as innate as the demonic power coursing through his veins. And you were helpless to curb them.
Trying to tame such a savage spirit had been foolish. Where his claim over you was concerned, no mercy would ever sway him.
The journey back to the estate was made in tense silence. You could feel the rage rolling off Sukuna in scorching waves as he strode ahead. His jaw was granite, fists clenched and shaking.
Only once you were behind the privacy of the chamber walls did he finally unleash it.
“How can you defend him?” he roared, making you flinch. “Those pathetic mortals who dared to covet what is not theirs. It is unacceptable!”
You stood your ground. “I make no defense, only ask that you temper reactions. This endless jealousy causes nothing but suffering.”
Sukuna’s eyes blazed, his voice dropping to a dangerous hiss. “You ask me to watch passively as they dishonor my claim on you? To permit their vulgar ogling?” He swept a hand savagely across a lacquered table, sending the vase crashing.
You jumped at the destruction but forced yourself to meet his volcanic glare. “I am not possession or prize to be claimed, My Lord. You cannot punish all for one foolish man’s gaze. I have told you this before, but I am not harmed.”
“Not harmed?” Sukuna bellowed, slamming his fists into the bloodwood pillar with a crack. “Not yet! But their desire will grow brazen if I do not act decisively now.”
He stormed toward you, making you back away instinctively. “You are mine. No other shall covet or touch what belongs to me. I would see this whole wretched village burn first.”
As his tirade raged on, you felt tears rising, spilling silently down your cheeks. The possessive diatribes, the limitless fury—you were exposing the folly of trying to gentle the devil’s heart.
Sukuna abruptly halted his pacing at the sight, chest heaving. His blazing eyes took in your hunched, trembling form. For an instant, something like shock flickered across his face. He blinked rapidly, swaying slightly.
“No… My little love…” All at once, the frenzied anger seemed to drain from him. He reached for you hesitantly, as if expecting you to recoil. When you stayed rooted, he enfolded you in his shaking arms.
“Forgive me,” Sukuna whispered. “I should not have raised my voice. But the thought of losing you…” One hand stroked your hair, then gently tipped your chin up. His thumb brushed away the tear tracks on your skin.
“You are everything to me in this wretched world,” he murmured. “I could not bear it if harm befell you.” His eyes were molten and his voice raw. “Tell me you know I would never let anything hurt you, not even myself in the madness of my rage.”
You searched his face and saw the sincerity burning there. With a fragile nod, you laid your head against his chest. His exhale was ragged with relief.
“I will try to be more merciful. For you, at least,” he sighs. “But you must understand it rages in my blood when I see them desire my most precious treasure.”
You stayed silent in his embrace. Perhaps this was the most he could concede—ferocity tempered with remorse. You could not change his possessive heart, only help him master what flowed within it.
And for now, it would have to be enough. His jealousy was a storm that would never fully be calmed. But like the storm’s eye, at the center there was still tenderness he reserved only for you.
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Once more, the days dragged endlessly when Sukuna was away. You had explored every corner of the estate a dozen times over. The loneliness gnawed at you.
So when he left at dawn one morning, you made an impulsive decision. Donning a cloak, you slipped outside the manor walls while the servants slept. Your steps quickened as you neared the hill path leading down to the village.
You had only meant to take a brief, harmless walk to lift your spirits. But the smells of grilled squid and sweet adzuki buns drew you like a magnet. Your stomach rumbled, reminding you it had been ages since you tasted simple street food.
Checking over your shoulder, you darted to the nearest food stall when no one was looking. The elderly vendor smiled in delight as you pointed to the snacks that tempted you most. It felt deliciously naughty, this minor rebellion.
You were waiting for the bamboo skewer of piping hot squid when someone jostled you from behind. Whirling around angrily, you found yourself staring up at a rugged, unkempt man looming over you. His bloodshot eyes raked down your body in a way that made your skin crawl.
“Well now, what do we have here?” His words slurred drunkenly. “You’re that demon’s little toy, ain’t ya? His pretty pet.”
When you shrank away, the brute caught your wrist in a painful grip. Revulsion rose in you. “Let go of me!”
The man just sneered. “Where is your master now, hmm? Bet he doesn’t like you sneakin’ off alone.” He swayed closer, sour breath hot on your face. “Maybe I oughta teach you some manners, whore.”
Outraged tears stung your eyes. You opened your mouth to scream for help when suddenly the man’s hand was wrenched away from you with a sickening crack. His shriek split the air.
Whirling around, you saw Sukuna standing there, eyes blazing infernos. The man who had seized you was now suspended off the ground, clutching his mangled, dangling arm.
“Please, mercy!” he whimpered piteously. But Sukuna’s face was a merciless stone.
With a snarl, he slammed the offender down, pinning him by the throat. “You dare speak to her that way?” His voice was deathly quiet. “Dare lay your filthy hands upon her?”
The man gurgled pleas, legs kicking uselessly. Sukuna tightened his grip. “No. There will be no mercy for you.”
And before your eyes, he ripped the man’s head from his body in one savage motion. Blood sprayed hot across your face and cloak. The headless corpse slumped with a wet thud that echoed horribly in your ears.
You stood there, frozen. You’re sick to the stomach—it’s nauseating—looking at the brutal sight that your lover could do.
Rooted in shock, you barely registered Sukuna turning to you. He grasped your shoulders firmly. “Did he hurt you?” At your numb shake of the head, fiery rage flooded back into his eyes.
“Good. Because I would have drawn out his torment for years if he had.” With that, Sukuna flung the lifeless body contemptuously through the door of a nearby hut.
Screams arose from within as you stared at the gore coating Sukuna’s hands. The brutality finally jolted you from horrified paralysis. Voice trembling, you begged him to take you home.
The journey back was made in silence. Once behind the walls, Sukuna rounded on you like the last time.
“How could you go without my permission?” He paced like a caged beast. “See what nearly befell you? The filth who could do anything to you?”
You flinched beneath the verbal onslaught, too numb to defend yourself as he kept raging.
“You are forbidden from leaving again! Do you understand?” He seized your shoulders roughly. “It is too dangerous for you.”
You nodded, mute and hollow. With a harsh exhale, Sukuna pulls you against him as four of his arms envelop you in a warm embrace, some of the frantic anger leaving him.
“Forgive my harsh words, my little love. But I do not like you being treated like that.” His voice broke on the last word. He clutched you tighter, as if to reassure himself you were real.
After that day, whispers followed you through the residence like ghosts, for no clear reason. Servants offering polite smiles that never reached their eyes, only to resume their hushed gossip once you’d passed.
At first, you tried ignoring the sidelong glances and murmurs. But still, the cruel words leaked through.
“She is just a plaything to him.”
“Once the master is bored, she will be discarded.”
“He is only using her on the bed.”
“Once he tires of those pleasures, her time here will end.”
Their cruel words haunted you, sinking claws into vulnerabilities you’d buried deep. Did they speak the truth? Was your whole purpose here just to entertain Sukuna’s baser appetites? The thought you might be expendable shook you to your core.
You managed to conceal your anguish and distress at first. But the doubts festered, stealing your appetite and sleep. When Sukuna finally noticed the toll on your health, alarm flared in his eyes.
Gently taking your hands, he scoops you onto his lap, facing him. “What is bothering your pretty little head, hm? You know you can tell me anything.”
You shook your head, “It is nothing, My Lord. Not a big problem.”
“I do not like you lying to me, little one,” he shakes his head, not buying your secrecy.
“I am okay. Please, no need to be concerned about me.”
“How can I not? What is it? Tell me,” he holds your chin still to make you look at him.
Both of your stubborn banter goes back and forth until you’re both getting impatient.
You wavered, then spilled out the vile gossip you’d endured in silence. Sukuna listened gravely, thumb idly stroking your wrist. When you finished, he let out a long breath, gazing at you earnestly
“You believe their hateful lies? That you are some plaything to me? You know in your heart these claims are untrue.” He grasped your shoulders, staring intently into your eyes. “You are everything. Your faith in me is worth more than a million mortal lifetimes.”
He brought your hand to his chest, holding it over his steadily beating heart. “Do not let petty jealousies make you doubt what we share.”
Overwhelmed, you buried your face against him. “Forgive my doubts, My Lord,” you whispered.
“There is nothing to forgive. The fault is theirs, not yours.” Stroking your hair, he pressed a fierce kiss to your head. Then his tone turned cold. “As for these spiteful women, I will make them regret ever speaking such lies.”
You quickly squeezed his hands. “Please, do not harm them. I only wished to explain my melancholy, not see others punished.”
Sukuna frowned. “You ask me to ignore those who hurt you so? Who makes you doubt my devotion?” His grip on you tightened. “I cannot be so forgiving.”
“I know it comes from care,” you soothed. “But replying to anger with more anger will only breed misery.”
He paused, then exhaled harshly, pulling you close. Resting his forehead to yours, he went on. “I swear to you, my feelings run deeper than they comprehend.”
“Leave this to me now, little one. Just rest easy.”
True to his word, the gossip ceased quickly. You didn’t ask what Sukuna said or did to silence loose tongues. But the servants now bent over backward to please you, their once spiteful eyes now carefully respectful.
Their newfound reverence somehow bothered you more. But Sukuna seemed satisfied. “Let the wretches make amends for causing you pain,” he said nonchalantly.
Some part of you recoiled at his methods. Yet it warmed your heart to know he would avenge any slight against you without hesitation. Perhaps it was wrong to take comfort from his possessiveness.
But you needed to feel cherished after so much doubt. And Sukuna left no room for uncertainty in how deeply he treasured you. Each tender glance and touch slowly healed the wounds until you were whole again.
When he came to you beneath the silken sheets now, the passion held new meaning. A reaffirming of what you were to each other.
You were his sanctuary. Just as he was yours.
The gossip no longer stung when you knew his heart with such certainty.
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Sukuna had told you he was taking a few days off to spend with you. With him home beside you for a blessed few days, the gloom cast over the estate seemed to lift. His four muscular arms caged you securely against his broad chest as you sank comfortably into his embrace.
He was attentive in ways you’d never seen before, constantly drawing you into his arms, asking questions about your childhood, your dreams, anything to get to know you better.
At first, you were shy, unused to being the object of such focused interest. But Sukuna’s patient gentleness soon had the words spilling freely from your lips.
You happily opened up to him in turn, chatting lightly about your days spent tending the garden, studying scripture with the monks, or watching the koi fish circle lazily in their pond. No detail was too small or mundane—he drank in every insight into your character with eyes that never once glazed in boredom.
He listened intently, his crimson eyes focused solely on you. As frightening as he could be, you knew this powerful being cherished you in his own way. You were likely the only person in the world he cared for.
When you finally worked up the courage to ask about his early life in turn, his gaze darkened briefly. “There is little of worth to tell,” he muttered.
He went on tonelessly to describe his parents casting him out as an infant, cursing his existence. Forced to eke out a living on the streets, he learned quickly that mercy was for the weak.
“I was not always like this,” he rumbled. “Once I was a human, born to parents who did not want me.” His fingers tensed where they rested on your back. “As an infant, they discarded me on the streets to die. But I survived, growing up feral and alone.”
You looked up at him sadly, heart aching at the thought of him helpless and abandoned with no one to care for him. You raised a hand to gently stroke his cheek.
Sukuna closed his eyes and leaned into your touch. “I do not tell you this for pity,” he said firmly. “My past made me strong.”
His eyes opened again. “When my cursed technique manifested, I used them without mercy, cutting down any who dared stand in my way. I reveled in my growing strength, the thrill of battle and blood... they satisfied me. I honed my skills until I became unmatched.”
You nodded solemnly. His description matched the legends told of the terrifying Ryomen Sukuna.
Now you know why he lacked mercy.
You take his hands in yours, kissing his palms. “The past is behind you now,” you told him. “What matters is who you choose to be from this day forth. My love for you is unconditional.” You smiled up at him warmly. “But I promise to teach you the ways of empathy and love, even if you protest.”
Sukuna huffed in amusement, the corners of his mouth quirking up. “Little one, you may try, but do not expect miracles. I am what I am.” But his embrace around you was gentle, belying his words.
You poked his chest teasingly. “I will make it my mission to show you how wonderful love can be, the joys it brings to our lives.” Laughing, you added, “Just you wait, I will have you reciting poetry and picking wildflowers before long!”
“Hmph, do not get carried away,” he grumbled, but you could tell he was secretly pleased by your playful vow.
You cuddled against his chest, determined to shower this damaged soul with all the love and tenderness he had missed in his tragic early years.
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The next morning, as soft sunlight filtered into the bedroom, you lay wrapped in Sukuna’s strong embrace. Your head rested on his muscular chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat. His breathing was slow and even, still asleep.
You traced idle patterns on his bare skin, your fingertips grazing over the tattoos adorning his body. Your mind drifted back to the conversation from the night before when Sukuna had told you a bit of his past.
Abandoned and unloved, forced to survive on his own from infancy. Your heart ached for the small, helpless babe he had been. The thought of him growing up without affection or care weighed heavily on you.
You understood now why love and empathy were so foreign to him. But you were determined to show Sukuna what he had missed, to fill his long existence with the warmth and joy he deserved.
Your short mortal life worried you, however. Sukuna had lived for centuries, he would go on existing long after you passed on. Would he find someone new to love? How would losing you affect him? Immortal beings were not meant to give their hearts to fleeting humans.
You must have tensed in concern, because Sukuna began stirring, his four arms instinctively tightening around you. “What troubles you so early, little one?” his deep voice rasped, still groggy with sleep.
You tilted your head up to peer at him. “I was thinking about what you told me last night, about your past. My heart breaks imagining you alone as a child.”
He regarded you seriously. “It was long ago. Dwelling on what cannot be changed is pointless.”
“I know,” you murmured. “I only wish I could have cared for you then. But now I worry… what will happen when I am gone? My life is so short compared to yours. Will you find someone new to love?” Your voice caught on the last word as you averted your gaze. You weren’t sure you even wanted to hear the answer.
He was silent. When you worked up the courage to look at him again, his crimson eyes were looking at you intensely. With a swift, motion he flipped you beneath him, bracing his weight above you and capturing your face between his big hands.
“You think I could simply replace you when death takes you from me?” His thumb brushed your cheek tenderly. “No other has touched my soul as you have. Long was my existence before you, yet I was empty.” Leaning down, he touched his forehead to yours.
“Your fragile mortality may one day steal you from my side, but what we have cannot be replicated or replaced.” He lifted his head to gaze deeply into your eyes.
“When you are gone, I will be lost again. I accept that your life must end as mine continues.” His jaw clenched. “But I will find no peace with another. What we have is beyond replacement.”
Tears blurred your vision at his heartfelt words. You had not realized the depth of his attachment, that the absence of your love would leave him emotionally desolate.
You threw your arms around his broad shoulders. “Then we must make the most of the time we have,” you declared. “Fill our days with so much joy that you will carry the warmth of our love for eternity.”
Sukuna wrapped you tightly in his embrace. “Yes,” he agreed, nuzzling your neck. “I will cherish every precious moment with you, little one.”
His words made your heart clench, but you understood, he would never love another as he had you. Your lives were tragically misaligned, yet the love you shared transcended such limits.
You spent the day wrapped up in Sukuna, exchanging tender caresses, murmuring sweet nothings, strolling the grounds hand-in-hand. Every shared laugh, every affectionate glance was savored, imprinting your bond ever deeper.
As the sun sets in glorious color, you lay entwined together beneath the cover of a wisteria tree. Your head rested over Sukuna’s heart as he gently stroked your hair. His steady heartbeat and the rhythmic rise of his chest were deeply comforting.
“I wish we could stay like this forever,” you whispered.
“As do I, little one,” he replied, his voice tinged with melancholy. “But we cannot halt the merciless passage of time.”
You leaned up to press a soft kiss to his jaw. “No matter how short my life, I am grateful every moment of it is spent with you.”
Sukuna cradled you close, distress evident in his eyes. “When I am alone again, I will find comfort in the memories we have.”
His grip on you tightened, as if he could hold you to this world through will alone. You tilted your head back to peer up at him. “And when I am gone, will you be okay?”
“I will endure it. As I have endured all hardship in my long life.” He traced his thumb lightly down your cheek. “It will not feel the same, my little love. But do not worry about me, I will be fine.”
Your heart clenched at the raw honesty in his normally stoic demeanor. On impulse, you stretched up to press a soft kiss to his lips. Sukuna went still for a heartbeat before responding in kind, lips moving gently against yours.
“Then do not dwell on the inevitable end,” you cup his face in your hands. “Think only of how much we mean to each other now. If my love can sustain you even a little while after I am gone, that will be enough.”
Sukuna pressed his forehead to yours. “I will brace it when the time comes. But for now, my world is only you.”
You kissed him tenderly, then settled against his chest once more. Bittersweet joy swelled your heart, knowing you had brought some warmth into Sukuna’s grim existence. Though fleeting and painfully finite, your mortal love was a balm to his ancient, scarred soul.
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The years passed swiftly. Sukuna remained your steadfast companion as you grew from a young woman into old age. He was always there to hold you close, whisper endearments, make you laugh with his wit.
In the blink of an eye, your hair became streaked with silver. Your smooth skin wrinkled and your energy waned. But your love never faded.
Sukuna stayed by your side as you grew frail, cradling you tenderly through restless nights, patiently spoon-feeding you broth when eating became difficult. His eyes reflected centuries of sadness knowing your time grew short.
Finally, you lay weakly upon your futon as he stayed close by your side. Your breathing turned ragged and a violent cough wracked your body. He gathered you gently into his arms.
“The end is near, my little one,” he murmured, smoothing back your thin hair.
You gave him a quivering smile. “I am ready. Just stay with me, please.”
He pressed his lips to your wrinkled forehead. “Always.”
You spent your final moments gazing up at his face, etched into your mind after so many years together. His image would be the last you saw in this life. With a contented sigh, you closed your eyes for the final time.
Sukuna let out a broken noise, pulling you tightly to his chest as your body went limp. Rocking your still form, he wept for the first time in his long existence. Anguished sobs wracked his powerful frame.
He had known this moment would come, yet nothing could have prepared him for the sheer devastation of losing you. It felt as though part of his soul had been ripped away.
Sukuna had guarded your mortal form night and day in those final years. Now you slipped away before his eyes, leaving him utterly alone. The crushing pain made him understand the human concept of a “broken heart”.
But he took comfort knowing you had passed peacefully in his embrace. The only mercy was that you were spared a drawn-out decline. He had filled your short life with as much love as one man could give. He has known you for a short time compared to how you’ve known him for most of your life.
Wiping his eyes, Sukuna pressed final kisses to your cooled skin. He would honor you with a funeral befitting royalty. Then he must decide where to wander next. This place held too many haunting memories now.
Sukuna laid you gently on the futon and stood. He cast one last anguished look at your still face.
“My beloved…” he whispered. “No other shall ever take your place.”
Then he turned and strode from the room, jaw clenched against a fresh onslaught of grief. His steps were heavy with the unbearable burden of immortality and loss.
No, he doesn’t cremate you despite having the ability to do so. He doesn’t even want to think of burning you to ashes, or he might as well lose it and burn the world with it for taking you away too soon.
He buried you beneath the cherry tree where you’d spent so many blissful hours in his arms. He marked the site with a stone monument etched with his promise:
“In this life or the next, you are mine. None will ever love you as I have, little one.”
His task complete, Sukuna wandered for many years after. Though the sharp pain dulled to a persistent ache, the emptiness inside him never abated. He fulfilled his promise and took no other lovers, knowing they could only ever be hollow substitutes.
He will wait until his time comes no matter how long it takes to see you again in the afterlife.
He will wait long enough to see you reborn and claim you one more as his.
But the thing he knows for sure, you will always belong to no one but him.
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I got emotional and carried away, I’m sorry 😭😭
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iceunhie · 7 months
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indirect kiss moments !
summary: you drink from their cup on accident = the realization that you may or may not have shared an indirect kiss. how do they feel about that? too flustered beyond belief, it seems....
featuring: part one (here) - kazuha, wanderer | part two - albedo, neuvillette, alhaitham
notes: not exactly established relationship, crush crush hehe, fluffy, my two anemo faves in one post.... loud gasp effect in the background (pls don't perceive this as my betrayal to the other anemos they'll have their turn soon i promise 🫡)
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WANDERER — (in/ex)ternally flustered as fuck + has stopped working
wanderer doesn't think he has a heart, but the way the void in his chest thumps for but a flicker of a moment proves him quite wrong.
why, you ask? it's all because of you.
he resists the urge to snap, terribly so, but out of being flustered more than anything, not irritation. because there is absolutely no way for him to properly process these turn of events with even a hint of rationality. you seem to be promptly ignorant of the whirring of thoughts in his mechanical head. ignorant of his rather foolish situation of going irrational and borderline idiotic.
all because of a damn indirect kiss.
his eyes lift from where he's burning holes onto the cup you're holding—his cup, he corrects, and lingers embarrassingly long (too long) on your lips. he tries not to fight the way heat creeps up his skin, synthetic yet all too real (perhaps like his own, untouched feelings); he thinks he might be red in the face. horribly red, thinking that oh no, he’s faced with the egregious notion that he may be too (very) obvious with how his reaction to your simple action betrays his secret fondness for your existence. most troubling.
it's fine, he tries to rationalize, he's got to relax. it was but a sip of tea. tea he so carefully procured and offered with much reluctance that was more feigned than anything else. tea he only drank because he heard in passing about your preference for it, very, very sweet tea he wouldn't normally drink, he notes with faint distaste—the things he lets you get away with—
….and then you lick your lips to savor the taste.
if the traveler hadn't showed him a taste of an almost death, then he thinks this might just be how he falls.
[ spoiler alert: he ends up hastily getting up to leave after pouring you another refill, muttering curses that would certainly alarm the average civilian. fast as light; if only to hide the utter mess that was his face. red, breathless (even though he doesn't need to breathe) and disgustingly, horribly flustered.
you’d better do your best to calm his self-imposed brooding— he isn't going to tell you anything about what exactly made him fluster this much. best of luck. ]
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KAZUHA — flustered, but smiling like a lovesick fool (wants to write endless haikus about this)
kazuha is drunk, both in love and on the sake that burns his throat in a pleasant blend of sweet and strong.
it all started with your request to drink from his cup. you ordered a different drink from him while the crew of the crux were celebrating beidou’s birthday. even now, the sound of laughter and drunken slurring fills the night, a slow and, if he has to be frank, tone-deaf melody of a simple happy birthday echoing in the air. of course, being as drunk in love (beidou’s words) as he is, kazuha didn't even hesitate at all to give you a sip.
…and it just so happens that you managed to drink at the exact place he drank from earlier.
small mercies come in the form of playing off the intense blush of his face and chalking it up to the effects of the wine and sake. kazuha isn't one to be flustered easily, but he must admit this one elicited no light reaction from him, no matter how much he may downplay its impact.
perhaps it was delusional, but was there not a tradition about drinking from each other's cups like this that could symbolize marriage….?
oh dear, the alcohol was getting to him, and fast.
[ spoiler alert: the next day, when you wake up with a sore headache and an achy body and an extremely clingy kazuha, try not to be confused when he mentions something like kissing you in the haze of his sleep.
the following week will also make you subject to two things: 1) an increasingly clingy kazuha (see above), and 2) dozens upon dozens of haikus left at your home, along with silkflowers of innumerable count you’d think he'd plucked the entire lot of them. you never did know why kazuha had become even sweeter (was that even possible...?) all of a sudden. ]
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[९] 2024 © iceunhie :: do not copy or use my works.
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vixstarria · 11 months
Text
Gentle Warding Bond 
Astarion was lost in thought, staring off into space with an open journal on one knee, absentmindedly fiddling with two rings in his hand. He was always picking up diaries and journals wherever he went, with an almost morbid curiosity about the lives of their dead authors.  
“Find something interesting?” you asked. 
“These rings we found at the House of Healing...” he answered, still in deep thought. “They appear to be counterparts. The wearer of one of them can cast a blessing on the other. That person gains a boon that protects them from harm. But any wound or injury that does reach them will be shared by the caster.” 
“How quaint” you said, sitting down next to him. 
“This journal belonged to the last wearer of the ‘giving’ ring. The poor sop died from injuries sustained by their lover.” Astarion tossed the journal off to the side.  
“What a stupid way to die” you commented after a moment of silent contemplation.  
“A bond that will drag you to your grave after your lover, should they fall. Or if you fail to protect them. Together as one against all others... Even in death.” he mused. 
“This is the kind of bullshit that breeds romance novels” you added. 
“Yes, it’s so nauseatingly sentimental I might actually be sick” laughed Astarion.  
“So saccharine” you scoffed. 
“Revoltingly sappy” agreed Astarion. 
“And absurdly foolish.” 
“Imbecilic!” 
“Simply mad.” 
You’d been looking into each other’s eyes for the latter portion of this exchange. 
“It sounds more like a curse than a boon, really” said Astarion, still looking into your eyes and reaching out to take your hand. 
“What idiot would do such a thing?” you managed, hoarsely.  
Astarion slipped one of the rings onto your finger, following suit with the other for himself. He uttered an incantation, and a warm feeling spread over your body. You felt stronger, safer, more assured. And you experienced a sensation that you could only describe as a feeling of his presence, wrapping you in an unseen embrace.  
Astarion leaned in to place a soft, lingering kiss on your lips.  
"You’re a good actor, but I can hear your heart racing, darling” he whispered once you broke the kiss. You just bit his lip in response, eliciting a soft growl from him.  
“Come on, love” he purred, getting up. “Let’s go kill something.” 
~~~~~
Next in series - Admit that you love me
Series master list
AO3
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henrycangelbaby · 1 month
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In which: He feels foolish, admitting his fears out loud, for they seem so silly, but he wants to be honest with her, always.
or
Logan feels unfit to be a father.
He sleeps most nights, always on the left side of the bed (he used to sleep on the right until they started sharing a bed, and they quickly found out she had no hope of sleeping peacefully when on the wrong side for the night). He had given up the right side easily; if he had achieved anything else in all his years of life, adapting to change (new sleep conditions) now came easy to him.
She always sleeps on the right, her back curled into his chest; sometimes she even cuddles his arm close. It causes his shoulder to ache in the morning, but it feels like it’s worth it. Her happiness is always worth it.
He hasn’t been sleeping as much as he usually does. He’s not well rested or peaceful, and despite all his sleeping experience, he cannot seem to get a good night's rest. In recent months, it’s his thoughts that have been keeping him awake. His doubts and worries haunt all his thoughts day and night. He should speak to her about it; he knows if he brought it up, she would scold him for not bringing it up sooner. They were in this together, and he could always tell her anything.
Part of him feels guilty; she shouldn’t have to bear his burden; she’s already doing so much for him, growing their child and giving them the gift of a family. He might never be able to repay her for it. Part of him feels embarrassed. Why is he feeling so many stupid feelings? All this anger and self-pity is so stupid that it makes him, well, angry.
Sometimes it makes him sad, a kind of sadness that he can’t seem to shake off; it lingers deep in his chest, and sometimes only when she sleeps quietly next to him does he allow it to consume him. A few silent tears slip from his eyes as he splays his hand, covering the expanse of her stomach. His eyelashes feel wet.
She sleeps peacefully next to him, her eyelashes gentle against her cheekbones. He can feel the way her stomach rises and falls with her breath, his palm spread across the bump. Well, it isn’t just a bump; it’s her bump. His baby is in there, their baby. He’s not quite sure how to refer to “it” yet. Not to sound rude, but the whole “kid” thing had never really been on his radar.
Logan knows many things; he knows violence and death, fighting and killing, loneliness, and years and years of loneliness. He’s not actually been lonely; he's always been surrounded by people, but he never quite had the love and intimacy that Y/N has brought to his life. It was new when they first met; she was so young, sweet, and loving. The sun shone so brightly whenever they were together that he swore his tan got a shade or two darker after he saw her. They would bask together, sleeping peacefully in the yellow hue.
There is no hue right now; in fact, he feels like the sun may have retreated forever, leaving him in a gloomy darkness. And it’s all his fault. Y/N still loves him the same; nothing has changed, only his feelings.
He can feel the tears again; they burn his eyes, blurring his vision. His chest feels tight; it aches as it begins to beat faster. He feels different from before; never have his emotions felt so heightened before. He has to get out.
He throws the covers off his body so fast, not giving a second thought to where they land. He finds himself in the dining room, hazardously throwing on the big light. Before he can think about it and compose himself, they come out. His claws suddenly shoot through the wood of the dinner table.
"Fuck,” he curses, and it hurts like a bitch as well. Logan has had control over his claws for quite literally decades; he has grown to understand the pain of it, but so unexpectedly, this time it hurt. He can’t stop the tears in his eyes as he yanks the metal out of the wood, leaving the splintered wood behind.
“Lo?” Y/N's voice comes from behind him. Sweet and sleep-ridden, she walks quietly from the bottom of the stairs, tiptoeing towards him. “Why are you out of bed?”
Her eyes suddenly catch the busted wood he stands over, and caught at the scene of the crime, he feels a sense of shame wash over him. How had he let his emotions get the best of him like that? This was the whole fucking problem.
She spoke again: "Is everything okay, honey?"
Fuck, she shouldn't be worrying about this. He apologizes before he can think about it. "I'm sorry for waking you, baby; everything's fine; go back to bed."
She doesn't listen to him as he expected, stepping closer to him, eyes skimming over the damaged table before coming to stand right in front of him. He goes to flinch away when she reaches out for his hand. She soothes her other hand up and down his arm for a second. God, he feels so fucking dumb right now, acting like a feral street cat.
The soft petting worked, and she softly grabbed his hand without resistance, pulling it up to her lips to plant the softest of kisses on it. It's an act of affection that he only allows Y/N to do; he feels like a feral cat when other people try to touch his hands, almost hissing at the touch.
He had opened up to her about the pain, while it healed instantly, he often felt it linger there, a tenderness that could only be healed by kisses from his sweet girl. She always treated them like it was real pain, kissing his knuckles after a long day and ensuring he takes hand cream with him everywhere he goes (he would never usually use something like that, but she buys them the same one, and he quite likes the sugary scent that reminded him of her).
"You can tell me what's bothering you." It sounded less like an offer and more like a demand. She must have seen the hurt that flashed across his face at her words, "I would never judge you."
It seems uncanny that she always knows what he needs to hear; her reassurances mean the world to him. She guides him to sit down on one of the dining table chairs standing between his legs. He looks up at her, and she smiles back at him. She always looks so beautiful when she smiles.
"You'll always be safe here, with us."
Logan couldn't help it; the tears started leaking out of his eyes. "Us," he knew what she meant by that, their baby—the reminder of the burden he was about to become in the family that they had created together. His silent tears dribbled down the soft fabric of her t-shirt, creating a wet patch at the top of her rounded stomach. She let him cry, shushing him gently, as he imagined she might do in a few months with their baby.
There are so many things he wants to say, so many apologies he wants to utter out loud, but nothing comes out except more tears. "Tell me what's hurting you, honey; maybe I can help fix it."
He shakes his head. "You're already doing so much for me; for our family, I just can't."
"Can't what?"
He feels foolish, admitting his fears out loud, for they seem so silly, but he wants to be honest with her, always.
"I'm scared," it comes out barely as a whisper, his confession quiet, but he knew she heard it. She nodded wordlessly; it was enough to encourage him to keep going. "I'm scared to be a dad, scared that I'm a bad person, a violent and unfit person to raise a child, a man as horrible as me tainting such an innocent thing."
She holds him tighter, his head resting against the home of their baby.
"You are not a bad person." Her words are firm as she tilts his head upwards, forcing him to make eye contact with her. "Honey, you are the nicest person that I know."
He opens his mouth, but she shakes her head at him before continuing, "You are many things, Lo, so loving and so kind, and not once have I felt unsafe around you, yeah?"
He stopped crying, wiping his eyes, and apologizing. "I'm sorry, bub."
She shakes her head with a chuckle. "None of that; you are always valid for believing these things, but that doesn't make them true. You are the best husband, and I know that you will be the best daddy ever."
Before he can think about it, he pulls her down into a kiss and smiles into it. For the first time in months, he feels fine, like everything will work out just fine.
"Come on, let's go back to bed." She grabs his hand, leading him out of the room. He casts the splintered table a glance as he turns the light off.
"I'm sorry about the table, bub."
She just smiles at him. "That's okay; it was ugly anyway," is all she says before picking up the pace towards their bedroom.
Wait, he picked out that table.
"Hey!"
A/N: first fan fic i've ever published and finshed, pls be nice. Also i have the grammar + spelling skills of a dyslexic baby, i did put this through a checker but please just ignore it. also also feedback is always welcome idk if anyone will read this but i heart Hugh Jackman
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ponderingmoonlight · 4 months
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Heya, could you write one for Tanjirou where the reader gets hurt on a mission and he feels bad about letting it happen as they were protecting Nezuko and he has feelings for her?
Thanks. I love your writing and take your time x
Okay I LOVE THIS
Tanjiro realizing his feelings for reader after she risks her life to protect Nezuko
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Pairing: Tanjiro x fem!reader
Word Count: 2,8k
Synopsis: Despite being well-composed and never deciding without thinking twice, you find yourself recklessly risking your life in order to protect Nezuko from getting hurt by Daki. Little do you know what an impact your second impulsive choice will have...
Warnings: severe injury, near death experience, fluff over fluff with Tanjiro with probably the cutest ending I've ever written, not proofread, I'll use one collage and one stand-alone AI pic so if this triggers you, I suggest not to read or look at them 🤍
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You never considered yourself impulsive. No, you never acted out of a feeling, never operated without thinking twice. Always kept your composure, a cool head. Maybe this is the reason for you still being alive, the reason why you are able to call yourself a quite skilled demon slayer on the side of your friends.
“You’ll come with me. I need you to look out for my wives.”
It was clear right from the start that this wouldn’t be an easy mission. All of Tengen’s wives enjoyed education when it comes to fighting skills. As a former shinobi, he made sure they were able to defend themselves. If he lost contact to them, it was clear something bigger is behind it. Something way bigger than anything you witnessed until that day.
“I can’t allow you to take (y/n) with you like that. I will join!”, Tanjiro suddenly shouted from behind with his oh so confident voice.
You will never forget the way he smiled at you back then, how much he cared for your well-being each and everyday since you arrived in the red-light district.
“I would never allow a demon to hurt one of my friends!”
Friends. Not quite the word you’d like to use for him. Since you first met each other when he saved you during the final selection, you always kept an eye open for the boy with the special kimono.
And his sister.
Apart from many people who dislike her, you loved Nezuko since the first day you laid eyes on her. Slowly but surely, it became your mission as well to save her, to free her from the curse of being a demon.
“I guess I’ll never be able to thank you enough for your support.”
You didn’t allow yourself to look at him, fully aware of that you’d get lost in his tender orbs again if you do. No, instead your eyes roamed about the glittering city to your feet, drifting over the facial expressions of the people underneath you.
“We’re friends, right? This is what friends do”, you murmured into the night.
Oh, you didn’t believe yourself a single word. What a filthy little lie to call Tanjiro a friend when all you are able to think about is his smell, when his voice is everything that lingers through your mind. Are friends supposed to think about one another constantly, to ponder about how their lips might feel pressed against each other? You promised yourself to never find out. After all, revealing your true feelings might scare him away forever. And losing Tanjiro all at once is definitely far worse than calling yourself his friend. After all, this would be impulsive with a not foreseeable outcome.
But even after you swore you’d never act out of a feeling, you find yourself sprinting into certain death.
It all happened faster than you expected. Inosuke managed to find Tengen’s wives and therefore the demon.
The upper moon six, to be exact.
The devilish who injured not only your friends, but Tanjiro as well. And now, she’s about to injure Nezuko as well.
Apart from your usual composed self, you find yourself dashing forward while grabbing the handle of your katana tightly. This is ridiculous, you don’t stand a chance against a demon like hair. Nezuko is a demon herself, she’d probably recover from her injuries.
You furrow your eyebrows, eyes fixated on both of them. It doesn’t matter right now. All you are able to think about is helping your friend.
“Get your filthy hands away from her”, you hiss through gritted teeth.
A well-placed hit. Your knee hits the ground roughly. Then everything around you is discoloured red.
Like in slow motion, you watch your own body sink onto the ground lifelessly. Your lungs feel like collapsing any given minute while you gasp for air like a fish on land. Blood takes your sight, drips down onto the already soaked floor while all you can do is watch in sheer horror as that hell of a demon grins at you.
“You did well until now. Dumb girl, why would you even think about defending a demon? Look how weak you are.”
The urge to cough becomes unbearable. Over and over, you spit out your own blood until your ribs feel like breaking. Did she hit you? Are you severely injured? Apart from your aching lungs, your body feels completely numb, almost lifeless. Like in slow motion, you watch as she walks towards you, the upper moon six emblem sparkling dreadfully in her eyes.
Is this your end?
What a senseless way to die when Nezuko is a demon. After all, even an upper moon wouldn’t be able to kill another demon without the right blade to do so. You never considered yourself so impulsive, so reckless.
Your eyes dart towards Tanjiro’s beloved sister who puts up a desperate fight against all the debris that buried her. Not everything needs to make sense.
It doesn’t make sense you decided to spare her life in the first place. It doesn’t make sense that you fell for her brother, that you allowed yourself feelings deeper than sympathy in a world full of cruelness and death. It doesn’t make sense that you decided to follow the sound hashira only to rescue his wives, that you actually considered going with him on your own.
All of that because you are so madly in love with Tanjiro. All of that because you view Nezuko as your own sister and could never allow another person to hurt her.
“What an ugly girl you are with your face twisted like that. What’s wrong? Are you in pain?”
You can hear your flesh bursting underneath another merciless hit of her belt, feel the throbbing pain that starts radiating through your bones. You will die right here and now, without any doubt. And you will die without seeing his face again, without telling him a single word about your true feelings.
“Don’t worry (y/n), I’m sure we’ll be fine! And as soon as we’re back, I’ll invite you to a bowl of ramen!”
A bowl of ramen?
Like in trance, you press your hand onto your leg, feel your busted flesh all too clearly, your very own blood slipping through your fingers.
Just like the love of your life.
“You need to get up.”
A distant voice in the back of your brain, muted by the constant ringing that takes over your ears.
“(y/n), can you hear me? You need to get up.”
Is Tanjiro still with Tengen-sama? They will manage to defeat those demons, you just know it. With the help of Inosuke, Zenitsu and Tengen-sama, Tanjiro will be alright. Who knows, maybe he’ll be a hashira in a week from now, maybe he’ll defeat Muzan Kibutsuji. Oh, what you’d give to hear that boy’s voice one last time, to witness his beaming smile again.
“She’s basically dead, idiot. Get lost so I can finish her.”
Are those hands lifting you off the ground or is your soul evaporating from your body?
“Please stay with me, (y/n). You need to keep on fighting.”
You allow your eyes for the briefest second. When you open them again, you barely miss how Nezuko catapults the upper moon six into a nearby building with full force. No, why would she risk to get hurt, what if that woman hurts her? It seems like you’re moving away from the scene and you’re unable to do anything apart from stretching out your shaky hand.
“No…I can’t…leave….”, you breathe out.
“Why did you risk your life like that? (y/n) you…you could be dead right now.”
That voice, it isn’t inside your head. No, someone is talking to you with an oh too familiar voice in a tone you know so well.
“Tanjiro.”
“I’m here, (y/n). And I promise everything will be alright? I just...don’t do something like that ever again, not even for Nezuko.”
Even though the sheer movement feels like breaking your own neck, you lift up your head enough to make sure this isn’t just a dream.
But his eyes are already set on you, filled with nothing but worry and threat while he carries you over the battlefield.
For a moment, time stands still. Just you and Tanjiro. No battlefield, no injuries, no demons. Just peace, love and Tanjiro.
Love.
“I love you”, you mutter so muted that he almost fails to understand.
You can feel his heartbeat picking up next to your throbbing head, watch how his eyes widen. Oh, how lovely they look in that red light, how easy it is to get lost in their gleam. What a waste of time it was to keep your feelings to yourself when all you were able to do was thinking about him. How lucky you are to feel your body pressed against his one last time.
One last time…
“I…so…tired…”
Desperately, you fight against the urge to close your eyes. You need to take this sight in for a little longer, need to stay awake at least for another minute. But your vision slowly but surely starts to get darker and darker until you can’t see him anymore.
“(y/n), don’t give up on me, not when I didn’t told you that-“
Nothingness.
-a week later-
“You should really start focus on getting back on your feet yourself, you know? It won’t help her if you don’t get better too”, the Kakushi next to him speaks out.
Since the moment he opened his eyes and realized that you aren’t awake, Tanjiro didn’t allow himself to leave your side. The last time he did that was at the entertainment district. The last time he did that you almost lost your precious life over defending his sister.
“I will stay just a little longer”, he mumbles lost in thoughts.
You always loved Nezuko dearly despite being a demon. Even though your logical thinking and composed acting, you accepted her as the human she was before and supported him in finding a cure for his sister. Still…
He runs his fingers through his hair roughly, frustration almost taking over him. Tanjiro never expected you to almost sacrifice your precious life for his sister. Not when she’s fighting against a demon, not when two upper moons are your opponents. No one would have doubted you, would have judged you for staying in safety. Nezuko would have never allowed you to interfere if she could, just like him.
“I should have arrived sooner. I should have been right by her side all the time. Maybe none of this would have happened if I kept an eye on her like I promised…”
“Don’t be a fool, she would have never allowed you to stay by her side knowing that it might cost the success of the mission. Still, I didn’t expect someone like her to act so reckless. Who’s your sister doing?”, the man opposite of Tanjiro replies.
“She’s been crying the whole time.”
“Did she finally wake up?”, Inosuke suddenly blurts out while entering the room on his own.
“She’s still unconscious”, Tanjiro explains briefly.
“Did you put that horrible bandage around her head? Before you came here, it looked alright”, the Kakushi interferes dryly.
“With the power of master Inosuke, (y/n) will be back on her feet in no time!”
“H…Hello?”
When your eyes flutter open, you get greeted by 3 pairs of excited eyes in an instant, your clouded mind still unable to process that you’re awake.
“Where am I?”, you croak with your throat feeling like sandpaper.
“I will call Shinobu-sama right away”, the Kakushi announces and gets up with a swift motion.
“You’re at the butterfly estate, dumbass”, Inosuke barks at you.
“(y/n)….I was so worried about you!”
Before you’re able to react any further, you find yourself emerged by green and black fabric, surrounded by a scent you know so well by now.
“Tanjiro”, you breathe out.
Over and over, you whimper his name like a prayer in order to convince yourself that this is real. You didn’t die. You are still alive. And right now, none other than Tanjiro Kamado holds you in his arms as tenderly as you always imagined. Is it a dream, maybe? A sweet hallucination to get you through the immense pain?
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there. All of this, only to stand up for my sister. Words can’t express how worried I was. How is it possible that this made me realize how much I-“
“You’re finally awake, how relieving. Would you mind moving to the side so that I’m able to examine (y/n), Tanjiro-san?”
That voice as sweet as honey belongs to Shinobu Kocho, without any doubt.
“S-Sure.”
“You really fought well, (y/n). Surviving that long with such severe injuries took its toll on your body, though. All of this because you wanted to protect Tanjiro’s sister?”
Her skilled hands begin roaming around your skin while you feel her gaze fixated on you. But you cannot look at Shinobu-san right now. No, your eyes are locked with those of Tanjiro next to you.
“They both mean the world to me”, you murmur.
He lets out his breath visibly while taking a step towards you. What is that glimmer in his eyes? Sorrow, dread?
Or maybe affection?
“How unusual for you to act this reckless. But maybe this is what love makes us do, right? I will leave you two alone for now. How about you’re taking a look outside? The sunset looks lovely today. But please use a wheelchair since your leg is still shattered.”
With a last bright smile, the insect pillar is gone in the wind again, leaving you alone with Tanjiro in a suddenly so tensed room.
“What do you think?  Do you want to watch the sunset with me?”, Tanjiro questions with low voice.
“I would love to.”
As careful as ever, he lifts you off the bed and places you into the wheelchair before gently guiding you outside.
Your eyes get greeted by the prettiest red you’ve ever seen covering the whole sky. Like a painting, the beautiful scenery lays itself in front of your eyes. Shinobu-san’s flowers painted in the colors of the sky, the fluffy clouds that look so comfortable from afar.
But what mesmerizes you way more than that is the striking sight next to you, the boy you loved in silence since you first saw him. With his face lit by the downgoing sun and the ever so slight blush that creeps up his face while looking at you, you can’t help but get lost.
“Maybe I needed this”, he speaks out.
You blink a few times, still tired mind trying to process the meaning of his words.
“What?”
There is it. His usual beaming smile, the optimistic glimmer inside his gorgeous orbs. Careful not to hurt you he grabs your hand and gently strokes it while kneeling down next to you. Is this really happening? Your heart threatens to beat out of your chest, reminds you urgently that you are definitely still alive. Why would Tanjiro Kamado get onto his knees for you?
“You.”
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An answer so simple and yet so intimate that you can’t help but blush as well. Like in slow motion, you watch as he draws closer and closer until his face is only inches away from yours.
“I love you, (y/n). I guess I was too dumb to realize it until I saw you injured like that because you protected my sister. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
The words leave your mouth just in time before he places his soft lips onto yours, making all your dreams come true with one innocent kiss.
You always acted well-thought and composed. But oh, what a plot twist it was to follow your heart twice in a row.
-bonus-
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“Did…Shinobu-san put this around my head?”, you question while staring blankly at your messy hair and the wild bandadge around your head.
“The insect girl? Of course it was me! You wouldn’t even be awake if it wasn’t for me! But don’t worry, you can worship me later”, Inosuke replies while stretching out his chest in full proud.
“You look…”
“Well…”
“I mean…”
None of the three girls dare to raise their voices at him whereas you stare yourself up and down. Of course, it was Inosuke. Shinobu-san would never stitch you up like that.
“Do you want…Kanao to fix this?”, one of them finally suggests quietly.
“Yeah….I guess that would be pretty nice.”
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Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld
@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake
@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345
@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp
@yaninnaacu
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satorusugurugurl · 5 months
Note
I hope this does not give too much pressure, but I have a request? I LOVED LOVED the fanfic about satosugu and reader with them being very, very rough after a tough work project/trip. Then I thought about it being a angsty?? Love a good angst
This is your account so it’s completely up to you to write or not!! I was thinking that after a while SatoSugu have another rough week. When the come back, the don’t immediately take it out through sex. Instead, they just bottle it up. Reader tries to comfort them about it but they ignore her or act snappy. Reader isn’t a pushover, but she is very understanding and patient. She lets them be mean, (it still hurt though) and just stays calm. She also had her own rough week while they were gone, but she doesn’t really show it. When they come back angry, she was hoping to forget her pain with them, but she only got their cold shoulder and words.
The next day when she comes home from another rough workday, she notices that they seemed to still be angry and agitated from their work trip. They suggest she take the next two days off, and she immediately knew what was coming. (Full consent given from her) She was feeling sensitive from her own turmoil/stress and the duo’s coldness, but she didn’t think too much of it.
While the roughness did feel good at first, it slowly became too much. They were too rough, far too rough. Their harsh words hurt. Their harsh hands hurt. The rope/ribbon hurt. Everything hurt, but was she overreacting? She was scared of disappointing them and ruining the mood I guess. She tried to look alright, but her cries slowly let out from the pain and emotional hurt.
They noticed it… Reader apologizes, but the duo is like, “Um no why are YOU sorry? This is on US.” SatoSugu realize their mistake and take care her mwah!! It was just a small dump, I’m so so sorry! As much as I LOVE writing, I’ll never be too confident enough to put this out. Even if I were to, writing styles will always be different. (Plus, I love the way other people write, just like yours!!)
Sorry it’s so so long!
- Moni Anon (first time requesting… kind of shy)
Shock
Characters: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, FAB!Reader
Pairing: SatoSugu X FAB!Reader
Word Count: 2,659
Warnings: Blood, death, shock, nightmares, PTSD, rough sex, choking, riding crop, shibari, degradation, emotional breakdown, crying, aftercare
A/N: I loved this request! Angst is like some of my favorite stuff to write! 🥲 I love a good sad story.
Part One
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The morgue was cold. But it wasn't as cold as your hands. You stood at the sink, scrubbing at them with soap and water. You hadn't realized the hot water had been running so long; it had turned icy cold. But you had to keep scrubbing them because you could still feel the tacky blood coating them.
Their blood, their blood that was hot and flowed through your fingers when you tried to stop the bleeding. Blood that stained your clothes. The blood is quite literally on your hands.
You tried, tried so damn hard to save the assistant supervisor who was with you on your mission. The information the higher-ups had given you was wrong. The curse you had exorcized wasn't the only one lingering in the building. There had been two, and after the first was taken care of, you and the assistant supervisor were headed out. The second curse attacked. Slicing at you, you had barely managed to dodge it. Getting cut on the cheek. The young woman, however, had her blood splattered on the concrete.
After the other spirit was dealt with, you rushed to her side. She cried as you tried to tell her she would be okay as you called for Ijichi. But the cut was too deep; she lost too much blood, and you watched the light fade from her eyes. Leaving you alone, stained with her blood.
Your mind snapped out of the bloody memory as someone turned the water off. They gently grabbed your hands, drying them off, pulling you out of the trance you were in. Shoko eyes you before gently leading you to the chairs lining the walls, ushering you to sit down. Reluctantly, you listened, plopping down and looking at your hands.
“I'm going to call Satoru and Suguru to tell them what's happened.”
Your head jerked up, “N-No, don't do that. I’m fine!” Shoko shook her head, leaning against the wall. “Shoko, please, really, I’m fine, I swear.”
“Y/N, I left ten minutes ago. You were washing your hands then, and I found you still washing them? You're in shock; I can't let you leave like this.”
“Please, I don't want to bother them. They just got back from a rough mission.”
“And you didn't?”
Your friend's words were searing into you like hot needles. She was right in a sense; you had just gotten back from a rough mission, but so had your boyfriends. They were gone for a week. Having to travel overseas to deal with several grade-one curses. The two of them handled it, taking down the curse users with them. But when they got home this morning, they headed to the room jet lagged and annoyed over each other, claiming they needed space and sleep.
If Shoko called them, they would be more irritable. You wanted them to get as much rest as they could. They worked their asses off. You being in shock was a minimal issue to involve them in. You would be okay—eventually.
“Y/N, I’m not comfortable letting you go home alone,” Shoko repeated, sitting on one of the chairs beside you.
“Okay, what about Yaga or Nanami then?”
You were so thankful that Shoko agreed with your proposition that Ijichi drove you and Nanami back to your house. Nanami was quiet the whole time, stealing the occasional glance at you, watching as you stared at your hands. It wasn't until Ijichi parked in front of your house that Nanami cleared his throat, catching your attention.
“I think you need to take a couple of days off.” His glasses gleamed. “I'm going to talk to Yaga about it. You're in no state to work right now. You need time to process what happened.”
Swallowing hard, you opened the door to the car. “I appreciate your concern, Nanami, but I’ll be okay.” You attempted to give him your best smile. “I got this.” The look on your friend's face screamed that he knew you were lying.
“Regardless of your ploy to fool me or downplay how much you're hurting, I will still talk to Principal Yaga.”
“And I’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks again, Nanami.”
You waved the car off before rubbing Your still-freezing hands together. Things would be better once you got inside. Satoru and Suguru were back, and you could relax, forget about work, and just be together.
As you approached the door, Satoru came out, black sunglasses on as he shut the door. “Oh, hi Satoru, welcome home!” You put on your best smile, approaching him.
“Hi, I'm heading out.” His tone was sharp and as cold as your hands.
“You’re not staying here?”
He pulled his sunglasses down, revealing his blue eyes. “No, I need to get out. Suguru is driving me insane. I’m going shopping.” He waved you off as if dismissing you.
“Oh, well, if you give me a few minutes, I could go with you?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way.” He kept walking, not even looking back at you. “I don’t wanna be around either of you right now.”
Ouch, that stung. But you just gave him a weak smile before heading inside. “Be safe.”
Alright, so Satoru needed some space, but Suguru might be in a better mood. Heading towards his room, you knocked and waited for him to respond. Only he didn’t. Your stomach twisted in knots as you hit again, a little harder this time.
A loud groan sounded behind the door before you listened to the floorboards creaking. The door flung open, and Suguru cocked an eyebrow as he eyed you. He looked exhausted and pissy, but he didn’t say anything as he glared at you.
“W-Welcome home.”
“Mhm.”
“Uhm, Satoru left. Do you wanna watch a movie or get something to eat?”
Suguru shook his head, dark streams of hair falling in his face. “No.” Your cold fingers twitched as you took a deep breath. Just as you opened your mouth, Suguru sighed, jabbing his thumb against the center of his forehead. “Y/N, please, I don’t have the patience or energy to entertain you. Please go away.” The door slammed in your face, leaving you staring at the wood grain in stunned silence.
Okay, well, that was unexpected. When the boys came back from a mission like this, you all usually had sex, taking the aggression out in the rawest way you could. This cold shoulder attitude was something new. Alien and strange, making my stomach ache.
After last week and especially today, you hoped to spend time with them. Snuggling them, forgetting about the horrors you had witnessed. Instead, you have a door in your face.
Nothing you could say or do to change their minds and attitudes. Everyone dealt with anger, stress, and exhaustion in their ways. Theirs happened to be wanting to spend time by themselves. Which was perfectly fine, but they could have at least been a bit nicer about it.
You spent the entirety of your night in your room after a hot shower. You lay there hugging your pillow as you stared blankly at the wall. Every time you started to doze off, you would see blood splattering the floor, hear wheezed, gurgled breathing, and see the light fade from that poor girl's eyes. You hardly slept at all, restlessly tossing and turning.
You were relieved when your alarm went off, ushering you to start your day. You got ready, and not once did you see your partners. Both doors to their rooms shut. Neither one came out to see you off, making your stomach turn.
At work, you put on a smile, trying to joke with the first and second years, but everyone could see your fragile state. From the dark circles under your eyes to how you disassociated during training. So you weren’t surprised when Principal Yaga came into your classroom and told you that you would be taking the next week off.
“You need to focus on recovering. If you need more time, call me.”
His words hummed in your ears all the way home. How pathetic were you? Allowing a young girl to be killed. A mandatory week off of work, and on top of all that, your partners were pissy and avoiding you. This, indeed, was one of the lowest two days of your life. You can’t remember the last time you’d felt this lowly, lost in the dark.
“I’m home.” You announced as you entered the house. Not expecting a response since both of them weren’t up when you left.
“Y/N,” Satoru said as you felt him press against your back. “Need you to do us a favor.”
Your body tensed as a blindfold was placed over your eyes. “You’ll need to call out of work for the next few days,” Suguru added as hands groped your breasts.
“Yeah, not a problem.”
They needed this, and if it would mean they felt better, that you could focus on pleasure, you’d gladly do what they wanted. And what they wanted was rough carnal sex. The type of sex that hard blue ropes digging into your wrists, bound behind your back. Intricate shibari dug into your chest, your breasts being squeezed. Everything felt so good, but it was so tight it almost hurt.
Your mouth was wrapped around Satoru’s cock. He was fucking your throat, yanking your hair painfully as he moaned as Suguru fucked you from behind. With every other thrust, Suguru slapped the leather riding crop over your ass. Your cries around Satoru’s cock had them both groaning.
“What a fuckin’ slut.” Satoru whined out, thrusting deeper down your throat, making you gag.
Suguru smacked the crop harder against you. “A dirty fuckin’ slut.” Another smack, followed by another, and it just kept going and going.
You cried around Gojo harder as Suguru continued his whipping behind you. “M-Mmm!”
“Mmm~?” Satoru mocked you. “Fuckin’ pathetic.” His cock hit the back of your throat painfully. Making your tears stain the blindfold as Suguru’s pace picked up.
“Pathetic whiny bitch in heat.” The crop hit your other cheek. “Absolutely pathetic”
You weren’t sure what hurt more. The crop and their cold, harsh words. They were never this mean. Calling you pathetic hurts because that’s who you saw yourself for the last few days. The ropes began to sting like your eyes; more tears stained the blindfold. You could handle this; they should be done soon; they needed this.
You couldn’t save that girl; the least you could do was help your boyfriends feel better.
“Pathetic worthless girl~ all you’re good for is this.” Gojo yanked your hair, and you saw splatters of blood. You were worthless at that moment.
A sharp sting from the riding crop. “Yeah, a good-for-nothing slut. All you’re good for is being our personal cock sleeve.” Good for nothing, yeah, you just let that girl die.
“Fucking stupid bitch.” The dark-haired man watched as Satoru’s face scrunched up in pleasure. “You're going to make him cum.” Long fingers trailed under the twisted ropes, yanking them hard. “That’s all you’re good for bitch.”
The ropes burned, digging into your flesh. Slicing into you like—like the girl you let die.
Suguru was the first to notice something was wrong. Your hands were pale. They trembled along with the rest of your body. He tossed the riding crop to the side, his dark eyes focusing on his white-haired boyfriend, who was still in utter bliss.
“Satoru.” His voice wasn’t filled with the same heated lust from before, and you noticed. “Stop, pull out.”
Satoru was about to complain, but as he peered at Suguru with half-lidded eyes, he knew he was serious. He listened to both of them pulling out of your mouth and pussy, watching as you coughed and gagged before those gags turned into wretched sobs. You curled in on yourself, sobbing louder. Images of blood, the morgue table, and blood spinning down a sink flashed through your mind.
The boys jumped into action instantly. They removed the blindfold and the bindings around you, allowing you to curl into a fetal position. They watched your trembling body before looking at each other, mentally asking the other what they should do. But it was you who spoke first.
“I-I’m sorry!” A broken cry sounded from the back of your throat.
Satoru gently pulled you into his arms, leaning against the bed's headboard. You sobbed into his chest while Suguru gently rubbed your back. Both of them were silent as you cried two days’ worth of pain out. Guilt seeped into the muscles and none of your body, for the assistant supervisor, for ruining the mood, for being so weak.
“Don’t. Please don’t apologize,” Suguru whispered, leaning down and kissing your cheek. “You have nothing to apologize for.”
“This is on us. We went way too far.” Satoru added his hands, gently massaging your shoulders.
You babbled into his chest as your other hand grabbed Suguru’s, holding it tight. “I-I messed up this week! And now this!” You could feel both of their muscles tensing at your words.
“What do you—”
“Mean you messed up?”
The events of yesterday spewed out of you like a water fountain. You sobbed, going over the details while both men gently caressed and listened to you in silence. The moment you finished spilling out your guts, Satoru and Suguru shared a look.
“And I didn’t make it any better.” You sniffled, looking up at Satoru. Ivory cheeks were flushed as he ran his hand through his hair. “Telling you I didn’t want to be near you.”
Suguru let out a cold, harsh chuckle. “I wasn’t any better. I told Y/N I didn’t have the time nor the patience to entertain her.” You hummed, relaxing against the duo, feeling more calm than you had in the last twenty-four hours.
“Then we were too rough. I feel like a total dick
“Same here,” Suguru planted a kiss on your shoulder, his hand gently rubbing your arm. “What can we do to make it up to you?”
“I’m honestly so tired. I just want to snuggle in bed.”
Your request wasn’t ignored. They both got up; Suguru changed the sheets and picked up Satoru’s room. While you stood under the hot water in the shower, Satoru gently washed your hair. Long fingers massaging your scalp before the curtain opened and Suguru stepped in behind you. Their hands gently slid over your slicked skin. Washing, massaging, and worshiping you.
Their sweet caresses made your eyes heavier as the tense, sore muscles relaxed. While you longed to take care of their needs most of the time. Being held like this, sandwiched between the two strongest sorcerers in the world, made you feel safer. With them at your side, you knee deep down in your gut that everything would be okay.
After the most relaxing shower you’d ever taken was over, you slid on your pajamas before crawling into bed, collapsing into the plush mattress and expensive Egyptian silk sheets. Satoru crawled in with you as Suguru pulled you to rest on his chest while Satoru spooned you. Their hands were so soft and gentle. Their fingers and warm palms were like your own personal lullaby.
“Shh,” Suguru hushed, “we got you.”
Satoru nodded against your shoulder and the crook of your neck. “You can rest. If you have a nightmare, we’ll be beside you.” Satoru grabbed one hand as Suguru grabbed the other.
“Rest.”
The warmth of their hands in yours had your cold hands finally returning to normal. Sometimes, days could be terrible. Making you question everything you do. You were happy to know your boyfriends would be there to help bring some of the light back into your life. That was something you would firmly be able to stand by and defend, especially when their arms were wrapped so tightly around you.
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mononijikayu · 6 months
Text
ghost of you — geto suguru.
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In his dreams, he would see you adorned in your Jujutsu uniform, the epitome of elegance and grace as you moved with a fluidity that mesmerized all who beheld you. Each time, it’s like that day he met you, Shoko and Satoru all over again. How kindly you smiled at him. Greeting him with every sense of wonder. Nothing could compare to the way your face lit up with a radiant glow whenever you caught sight of him and Satoru, your eyes alight with an adoration that spoke volumes of the love you held for them both. The adoring gazes of those who surrounded you, drawn to the magnetic allure of your presence, only served to amplify the aura of warmth and joy that surrounded you wherever you went.
GENRE: Hidden Inventory Arc - JJK 0, 2006/2007 - 2017;
WARNING/s: Angst, Romance, Pining, Grief, Mourning, Death, Depiction of Trauma, Depiction of Death, Depiction of Grief, Depiction of Blood, Depiction of Corpses, Depiction of Injury, Depiction of Curses, Depiction of Dreams and Nightmares, Reminiscing, Language;
masterlist
listen: ghost of you by my chemical romance
note: this is how im dealing with my failings in class. im sick too but i wanted to cry, so i wrote this!!! ramadan mubarak to those celebrating!!! i love you all!!!
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HE THINKS THAT HE’S ABOUT TO LOSE HIS MIND. Night after night, Geto Suguru found himself ensnared in the clutches of a restless sleep, his subconscious a battleground where turmoil reigned supreme. Sleep, once a sanctuary from the trials of the waking world, had become a rare and fleeting commodity for him. Each night, he descended into the depths of slumber with a weariness that weighed heavily on his weary soul.
But even in the refuge of sleep, there was no respite from the torment that plagued his restless mind. As he drifted into the realm of dreams, he was met with a relentless onslaught of visions that offered no solace, no reprieve. The awakening, when it inevitably came, was always abrupt, tearing him away from the illusory tranquility of his dreams with a merciless force.
With each night that passed, Suguru's weary eyes would flutter open, revealing puffy lids stained with the remnants of tears shed in the throes of sleep. The contrast between the serenity of his dreams and the harsh reality of his waking world was stark, a cruel reminder of the tumultuous nature of his existence.
His heart, a relentless drumbeat in the silence of the night, served as a constant reminder of the vivid images that lingered in his mind long after the dream had dissipated. The dreams felt real, tangible, as if he could reach out and touch the ephemeral figures that inhabited them. And you, in particular, felt more real than ever before, a spectral presence that haunted his every thought.
In his dreams, you were within his grasp, your presence a beacon of warmth and vitality that seemed to defy the confines of mortality. Your smile, so vibrant and alive, illuminated the darkness of his subconscious with a radiance that pierced through the shadows of his restless mind.
But alongside the fleeting moments of solace came the nightmarish visions that haunted him without fail. The memory of Toji Fushiguro, the man who had wrought untold devastation upon your life, upon his life, lingered like a malevolent specter in the recesses of his mind. It was that man that had robbed him of life. The image of Toji's vicious gaze as he looked upon your lifeless form, a cruel reminder of the brutality of fate, haunted Suguru's dreams with an unrelenting intensity.
He called your name over and over.
He watched you turn your back at him.
Each time, his heart seeps with horror.
“Suguru, get out!” You rush from the entrance, getting his attention. His eyes blinked before he could even react. He looks at you, with your disheveled look, exhausted from keeping the entrance safe. “Now!”
Your desperate cry pierced through the chaos, urging him to run, to escape the impending danger. But he was frozen in place, his muscles refusing to respond to the command of his racing mind.
He could see the determination etched into your features as you rushed towards the young girl, summoning your own cursed creatures in a futile attempt to protect her. But in the face of the Sorcerer Killer's relentless speed, your efforts seemed futile.
Time slowed to a crawl as Suguru's heart pounded against his chest, each beat echoing the terror and helplessness consuming him. He screamed your name, reaching out to you with a desperation he had never known before. But his movements were sluggish, as if he were trapped in a nightmare from which he couldn't wake.
Amanai Riko's screams echoed in the air as you wrapped your arms around her, shielding her from the impending danger. Suguru's breath caught in his throat as he watched in horror, knowing that he was powerless to stop the inevitable.
The sound of gunfire shattered the silence, the bullets tearing through the air with deadly precision. Two shots rang out, each one a death knell that reverberated through Suguru's soul.
Blood sprayed into the air, painting a macabre tableau of violence and despair. Your body convulsed as the bullets found their mark, your once-vibrant eyes now vacant and lifeless. You choked on your own blood, your ghostly visage haunting Suguru's nightmares for years to come.
Even in your final moments, you clung to Riko, offering what little comfort you could in the face of such senseless brutality. But it was a futile gesture, as both your bodies crumpled to the ground, lifeless and broken, a stark reminder of the cruel reality of their world.
“Okay, job’s done.” The dark haired man retorts, walking towards Suguru with a nonchalant look on his face. Nothing made him more angry, he thinks. Nothing in him was more devoid of life than in that moment. 
He stares at both of you and Riko.
He takes a breath. 
He turns to the man.
“Why are you here?” was all he could muster out of him, his dark purple pupils dilated in bitter anguish as you laid there, lifeless, the girl you were so desperate to protect, still wrapped around your cold, blood arms. 
“Oh, that.” The man grinned back at him, scratching his head with his armed hand. “That’s simple. Because I killed Gojo Satoru.”
He wasn’t sure what else to do. 
His rainbow dragon summoned.
His cursed energy bursted out of him.
His glare was pulsing with hatred.
“I see.” He says ever so bitterly, coldly. “Then die!”
Each dream began with your warmth enveloping him, igniting a fire within his soul that burned with a fervor unmatched by anything in the waking world. Your vibrant presence, etched into the very fabric of his being, illuminated the darkness of his subconscious with a radiance that defied the confines of mortality. Every detail of your existence was etched into his memory with an indelible permanence, a testament to the profound impact you had on his life.
In his dreams, he would see you adorned in your Jujutsu uniform, the epitome of elegance and grace as you moved with a fluidity that mesmerized all who beheld you. Each time, it’s like that day he met you, Shoko and Satoru all over again. How kindly you smiled at him. Greeting him with every sense of wonder.
Nothing could compare to the way your face lit up with a radiant glow whenever you caught sight of him and Satoru, your eyes alight with an adoration that spoke volumes of the love you held for them both. The adoring gazes of those who surrounded you, drawn to the magnetic allure of your presence, only served to amplify the aura of warmth and joy that surrounded you wherever you went.
You had a gift, a rare ability to make everyone around you feel like life was worth living, each and every time you graced them with your presence. You breathed life into every room you entered, infusing it with a sense of vitality and purpose that was as intoxicating as it was irresistible. And to Suguru, you were the embodiment of that beauty, a vision of unparalleled grace and elegance that left him breathless with longing.
But beneath the surface of this idyllic tableau of love and adoration lay a deep well of sorrow and longing that threatened to engulf Suguru's fragile heart. Because every dream ended with the same way. His guilt eating up and him. Every dream ended with you losing your life, with him losing you. And him, being too slow, too useless, too careless. The pain in his chest was palpable as he watched you over and over, knowing that you were no longer his to cherish. You haunted him, continually.
But he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Because you weren’t here with him.
All he could do was let him be haunted.
All he could do was let himself mourn.
All he could do was see the ghost of you.
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HE DIDN’T REALIZE THAT HE HAD CURSED YOU. In the depths of Suguru's heart, a relentless denial gripped him with an iron fist, refusing to accept the crushing reality of your absence. He couldn't comprehend how he managed to carry on, nor could he grasp the reason behind his persistent refusal to acknowledge the truth. Yet, in the recesses of his soul, he harbored an unwavering certainty that you were still with him, your presence lingering like an indelible imprint on his consciousness.
The mere thought of your demise was inconceivable to Suguru, a notion he vehemently rejected with every fiber of his being. Even as he cradled your lifeless form in his arms, the weight of your absence pressing down on him like an insurmountable burden, he couldn't fathom a world without you breathing, without your laughter filling the air.
The memory of that fateful moment, when the sound of clapping mingled with the echo of your blood staining the pavement, haunted him relentlessly. It was a nightmare he couldn't escape, a grim reality that overshadowed every waking moment, gnawing at the edges of his sanity.
Even when he stood before Satoru, who held the lifeless body of Amanai Riko in his arms, the juxtaposition of death and despair surrounding them like a shroud, Suguru's mind rebelled against the notion of your absence. The image of your mangled face, revealed to Shoko as she trembled with unspoken grief, pierced Suguru's soul like a dagger, a stark reminder of the cruel fate that had torn you away from him.
But amidst the suffocating grip of denial, there lingered a beacon of solace – the memory of the day before, when both of you stood by the sea, basking in the warmth of each other's company. That precious moment played on an endless loop in Suguru's mind, a sanctuary of peace amidst the chaos of his shattered reality, a reminder of the love and joy you brought into his life.
In the tumultuous depths of his soul, Suguru clung to that memory with unwavering resolve, refusing to let go of the hope that one day, somehow, you would return to him, breathing life back into his shattered world.
That serene afternoon spent in your company felt like an eternity, a timeless moment etched into Suguru's memory. He could still recall the sensation of the sun's warmth enveloping his skin as he lay with his head nestled in your lap, the rhythmic motion of your fingers gently combing through his hair like a soothing melody.
The gentle caress of the wind against the backdrop of the sea created a symphony of tranquility, a scene of unparalleled beauty that seemed to exist outside of time itself. In that moment, there was no past or future, only the present, filled with the warmth of your love.
"You know," You teased, your playful grin lighting up your features, "You're lucky I'm not like Satoru. Otherwise, I might just shave your head when you fall asleep like this."
Suguru chuckled, his eyes still closed as he basked in the comfort of your presence. "You wouldn't dare. You love my hair too much."
Your laughter was like a sweet melody, a harmonious blend of joy and affection that resonated in Suguru's soul. "You caught me," You admitted, your fingers continuing their gentle movements through his hair. "I couldn't bear to part with those luscious locks of yours."
“Hm, it's why I maintain it for you.”
“Liar, you maintain it for yourself.” You retorted back at him, teasingly. “Well, other than that, for your boyfriend, Satoru.”
Opening his eyes, Suguru met your gaze, captivated by the love and warmth that radiated from your eyes. "You're one of a kind, my love," he murmured softly, reaching up to intertwined his fingers with yours. His chest rambling with laughter. “Satoru wouldn’t oppose those words, I like to think.”
You grinned back at him. “No, he’d be very flattered.”
He smiled, squeezing your palm. “Too bad you already captured me, my love.”
"And you're stuck with me," You replied with a mischievous grin, gently squeezing his hand. "For better or for worse."
"And for bitter or for worse, too," Suguru vowed solemnly, his voice filled with unwavering determination. “You and me.”
Your laughter echoed in the air, a symphony of happiness that danced around them. "That's a promise, hm?"
"It is!" Suguru affirmed, a smile spreading across his face as he felt a surge of warmth fill his heart. In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of your love and the echo of your laughter, he knew that he’d fall in love with you, over and over again.
In the aftermath of the tragedy that had torn you away from him, Suguru clung to your lifeless body with a tenacity born of desperation. He couldn't bear the thought of surrendering you to the authorities, not even to Shoko, who trembled with sorrow as she stood before him, her eyes filled with unspoken grief.
Instead, Suguru laid your body down gently on your dorm bed, heedless of the blood stains that marred the once-peaceful sanctuary where you had shared countless intimate moments together. "You belong here," he murmured softly, his voice choked with emotion, "Safe and far from harm."
For days, Suguru remained by your side, tending to your lifeless form with a tenderness that belied the anguish raging within him. "I'll take care of you," he whispered, his fingers tracing the contours of your face as if trying to etch your features into his memory forever.
As Satoru arrived, his usually jovial demeanor replaced with a heavy cloak of grief, Suguru's facade of stoicism cracked under the weight of his anguish. His heart, already battered and bruised, seemed to shatter into a million pieces as he watched Yaga and Shoko carry your lifeless body away, leaving him alone with the echo of his torment.
"How could you let this happen?" Suguru's voice rang out, filled with a rawness that cut through the air like a knife. Each word was laced with a pain so profound that it seemed to reverberate through the room, echoing the depths of his despair.
Satoru's response was a whispered apology, his voice heavy with guilt and sorrow. The weight of his words hung in the air like a tangible presence, a silent acknowledgment of the mistakes made and the lives lost as a result.
“Suguru,” Satoru began, his voice barely above a whisper, his eyes reflecting a myriad of complex emotions. But amidst the sorrow and regret, Suguru could see the unmistakable glimmer of guilt that lingered in his best friend's gaze. It was a guilt that cut deeper than any blade, a burden that Satoru carried with him like a heavy chain around his neck.
The apology hung in the air, a fragile thread that seemed to stretch and strain under the weight of their shared grief. Suguru's heart ached with the weight of it all, the pain of loss and betrayal mingling together in a tumultuous storm of emotions.
In that moment, as they stood amidst the wreckage of their shattered lives, Suguru realized that forgiveness would not come easy. The wounds were too fresh, the pain too raw. But buried beneath the layers of grief and anger, there remained a glimmer of hope – a flicker of light in the darkness that threatened to consume them both.
Satoru's shoulders sagged under the weight of Suguru's accusation, his usual confidence crumbling in the face of his friend's anguish. "I... I don't know, Suguru," he admitted, his voice wavering with emotion. "I thought we had everything under control. I never imagined..."
Suguru's gaze bore into him, a mix of disbelief and sorrow etched into his features. "You never imagined?" he repeated, his voice hollow with pain. "You promised me you'd keep my love safe, Satoru. You promised."
Gojo Satoru's eyes mirrored the grief that threatened to consume Suguru. "I know," he whispered, his voice choked with sorrow. "I know, and I'm sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen. I would give anything to go back and change it, Suguru. Anything."
The room fell silent, the weight of their words hanging heavy in the air like a thick fog. Suguru's heart ached with a longing for the past, for a time when you were still alive and everything felt right in the world. “Apologies....it wouldn't bring Riko-chan....it wouldn't bring my love back. It wouldn’t bring them back.”
“I know.” His best friend responded back to him, his eyes lowering down to the pavement. “I know.”
He just let Suguru cry.
And he just held him.
But he knew it wasn’t enough.
It would never be enough.
As the days turned into weeks, the weight of grief and loss pressed down on Geto Suguru like an unrelenting force of nature. Surrounded by the very space that bore witness to a lifetime of shared memories between him and you, Suguru found himself drowning in bitterness and despair.
But his anguish only deepened when he discovered the truth – that your death, and the death of Amanai Riko, had been in vain. The realization that your sacrifices had been rendered meaningless, that another Star Plasma Vessel existed and remained to be found, fueled the flames of his anger and resentment.
Your deaths were not just tragedies; they were senseless, cruel acts of fate that left Suguru grappling with the unbearable weight of injustice. The quiet anger that simmered beneath his grief now boiled over, consuming him with a fiery intensity that threatened to consume everything in its path.
He was angry – angry at the world, angry at fate, angry at himself for not being able to protect you. He was bitter – bitter at the cruel twist of fate that robbed him of a future with you, bitter at the injustice of a world that could take away something so precious with such callous disregard.
In the midst of his despair, Suguru found himself grappling with a profound sense of loss – not just the loss of you, but the loss of the life they could have had together. It was a wound that cut deep, leaving him scarred and broken, forever haunted by the specter of what could have been.
"I can't do this without you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as he traced the outline of your bed with trembling fingers.
Amidst the suffocating darkness that threatened to consume him, Suguru clung to a memory that flickered like a solitary flame in the blackness of his despair. It was a memory of a night shrouded in chaos and bloodshed, a night when he had unleashed the full force of his cursed power upon a village that dared to defy him.
In the midst of the carnage, as screams echoed through the air and flames licked at the sky, Suguru found himself face to face with a man brandishing a dull blade, his eyes filled with a murderous rage. It was a scene straight out of his nightmares, a reminder of the violence and destruction that had become his reality.
But then, amidst the chaos and despair, he saw you – a specter of the past, with eyes as cold and dead as the winter night itself. In that fleeting moment of recognition, Suguru reached out to you, his hand trembling with a desperation he could not conceal.
"I need you," he whispered into the void, his voice thick with emotion. In that moment, he realized that even in death, you would always be there to defend him, to stand by his side through the darkest of times.
In the depths of his despair, Suguru's mind replayed the events of that fateful night with agonizing clarity. The memory of your sudden appearance, like a specter from the past, haunted him relentlessly, its impact both comforting and terrifying in equal measure.
As the man raised his blade, a glint of malice in his eyes, Suguru watched in stunned disbelief as you intervened, your ethereal form moving with an otherworldly grace. Tears streamed down your face, a silent testament to the grief and anguish that engulfed you both.
In that fleeting moment, as your cold hand met his trembling one, Suguru was overcome by a torrent of emotions – grief, longing, and a profound sense of loss. But amidst the chaos and turmoil, there was also a glimmer of hope – a belief that even in death, your presence would guide him through the darkness, offering solace and strength in the face of unimaginable hardship.
You couldn’t speak, your voice silenced by the cruel hand of fate. Yet in that moment, words were unnecessary. Your mere presence was enough to soothe Suguru's tormented soul, offering him a lifeline amidst the darkness that threatened to consume him.
Because you were here, tangible and real, your touch and gaze a balm to his wounded spirit. In that moment, nothing else mattered – not the burning village, nor the screams of the innocent, nor the sorrow that engulfed them both. Only you, alive and with him, mattered.
"Welcome home, my love," Suguru whispered to you, his voice barely above a whisper, his touch gentle as he brushed your hair out of your face. In that moment, surrounded by the remnants of their shared past, Suguru found solace in the simple act of being with you, his anchor in a sea of chaos and despair.
He regretted nothing.
Not this moment.
No, not even you.
Never you.
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HE HAD NO REGRETS, NOT EVEN BY THE END.You watched from the shadows, your ethereal presence a silent observer in the midst of the unfolding drama. Suguru had never wanted you near the battle. He had kept you out of it. But he supposed, as you dwelled through the walls, familiar to the cursed echoes of your mind—you were just returning home.The moon hung low in the sky, its pale light casting long shadows over the desolate landscape. As the first rays of dawn began to paint the horizon with streaks of gold and orange, the world seemed to hold its breath in anticipation.
Your eyes, cold and ghostly, flickered with an otherworldly intensity as you surveyed the scene before you. Two figures stood facing each other amidst the quiet stillness of the night – one bathed in the soft glow of the moon, the other shrouded in the darkness of the shadows. Geto Suguru leaned against the familiar wall, his form hunched over in pain as he clutched his armless shoulder, blood seeping through his fingers in a steady stream. Despite the agony etched into his features, he remained steadfast, his resolve unyielding even in the face of death.
You blinked, your expression inscrutable as you watched Suguru's suffering unfold before you. There was a sense of detachment in your gaze, as if you were merely a spectator to the tragic spectacle playing out before you. The sun began to lower, its golden rays piercing through the darkness with a gentle warmth that belied the chaos of the moment. The world seemed to slowly descend to the slumber, the birds flying past as they chased against the shadows eating away into darkness.
And yet, amidst the beauty of that blue hour, there was an undeniable sense of foreboding in the air. This was not how he was expecting to go, but he supposed he had no other way but to live through it, with what he had left. The silent standoff between the two figures spoke volumes, a silent testament to the turmoil and conflict that raged within their hearts.
You stood silently, your presence a silent sentinel amidst the chaos, your eyes never wavering from the scene unfolding before you. As Suguru and the other figure faced each other in a silent battle of wills, you remained a silent witness to the unfolding drama, your ghostly eyes reflecting the weight of the world on your shoulders.
"You're late, Satoru," Suguru let out a voice tinged with resignation and a hint of bitterness.
Satoru Gojo stood before them, a towering figure even in the midst of turmoil, his usual blindfold gone to reveal the intensity of his gaze. His eyes, unobscured by the fabric that usually concealed them, bore into Suguru and the ethereal figure standing beside him, a silent testament to the gravity of the situation unfolding before them.
As Suguru and Satoru faced each other, a silent exchange passed between them, Satoru's expression remained stoic yet filled with an unspoken sorrow. It had been so long since he had last seen the figure beside Suguru, and this was not the reunion he had envisioned. But there was no surprise in his gaze, no hint of shock at the sight before him. He had long ago come to accept the unexpected twists and turns of fate, the unpredictable nature of love and loss.
Every essence of love, Satoru knew, carried with it a burden of its own – a weight that could either uplift or crush the soul. His love for Suguru, his steadfast friendship that had endured for nearly a decade, had been his anchor in the storm, the guiding light that had sustained him through even the darkest of times. And he was certain that Suguru's love for the figure beside him, ever-present yet so tragically unfulfilled, had likewise kept him tethered to this world, even as death loomed ever closer.
As Satoru turned his head to look at the figure beside Suguru, a wave of bittersweet memories washed over him. It had been too long since he had last seen you, too long since they had last stood together as allies in the fight against darkness. And now, as he gazed upon your lifeless form, he couldn't help but feel a pang of regret – regret for all the lost time, all the missed opportunities, and all the words left unspoken. You were chained to this life, out of love. And you probably knew that too well. 
Amidst the sorrow and regret, there remained a glimmer of hope – a belief that even in death, their love would endure, a beacon of light in the darkness that threatened to consume them all. Yet he wouldn’t want it to continue. This was already a nightmare. These moments were already haunting ghosts. And as Satoru stood before them, his heart heavy with grief yet filled with a quiet determination, he knew that he would do whatever it took to set them free from the chains of their past, to grant them the peace and solace they so rightfully deserved.
"To think you'd be the one here at my end," Suguru replied, his voice betraying none of the turmoil swirling within him. Yet he smiled, a genuine expression of warmth and understanding that seemed to contradict the gravity of the situation.
Suguru Geto, his expression stoic and unreadable, met Satoru's gaze with a steely resolve. There was a time when closeness existed between them, a bond forged through shared experiences and unwavering trust. But now, that bond lay fractured and strained, buried beneath the weight of their conflicting ideologies and diverging paths.
"Is my family safe?" Suguru demanded, his tone tinged with a shallow breath of concern. He glanced at the figure standing beside him, your dead, cold eyes betraying a silent worry that mirrored his own. Nanako and Mimiko, the twins who had become like family to them, were undoubtedly on both your minds. Suguru knew that your concern for their safety mirrored his own, even if you couldn't voice it aloud.
Satoru nodded solemnly. "Every last one of them managed to escape," he confirmed, his voice tinged with regret. "The ones in Kyoto were under your orders, too, right?"
Suguru's lips curved into a bitter smile. "Yeah," he acknowledged. "Unlike you, I'm a kind man."
The tension between them hung heavy in the air, suffocating and palpable. Suguru broke the silence once more, his voice steady and unwavering. "You sent those two assuming that I'd defeat them, didn't you?" he questioned, his tone accusing yet tinged with resignation.
Suguru's gaze hardened, his eyes narrowing in response. "To set Okkotsu off," he whispered, his voice laced with bitter amusement. Satoru's eyes remained steadfast, reflecting the resolve of a man driven by his convictions.
"I trusted you," Satoru interjected, his voice tinged with a note of disappointment. "Trusted that a man as principled as you wouldn't kill off young sorcerers without a reason."
"Trust, huh?" Suguru mused, his smile tinged with wistfulness. He glanced at the figure beside him, your cold, dead eyes mirroring his own emotions. "I didn't think I still had any of that left… after everything I’ve been through."
With a resigned sigh, Suguru retrieved a small object from the folds of his clothes and extended it towards Satoru. "Return this for me, will you?" he requested, his voice tinged with finality.
Satoru accepted the object, his fingers closing around it with a sense of inevitability. "Was the elementary school your doing, too?" he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity and disbelief.
Suguru met his gaze, his expression inscrutable. "Yeah," he admitted quietly.
Their eyes met in a silent exchange of understanding and regret, the weight of their shared history hanging heavy between them. Satoru took a step forward, his gaze piercing through the darkness to meet Suguru's gaze head-on. 
"Do you have any last words?" he inquired, his voice soft yet tinged with melancholy.
Suguru's lips twitched into a bitter smile, his gaze unfaltering. "No matter what anyone says," he began, his voice tinged with resignation. "I hate those monkeys. But I never held any hatred for those in Jujutsu High. I just couldn't wear a heartfelt smile in this world. Not after…"
He turned towards you, his expression filled with an unspoken longing and regret. You looked back at him, confusion etched into your features. But he smiled at you, urging you closer with a silent gesture.
"I hope you can forgive me," Suguru whispered to you, his hand reaching out to touch your face gently. A tear fell from your eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the pain and loss they had both endured. "And I hope you will meet me soon. The real you. Wherever this death leads me. I hope you can love me again. Like you used to.”
"You need to do it, Suguru," Satoru urged, his voice filled with a sense of sorrow. One that Suguru cannot comprehend. One that was buried for ten years. “Now.”
Suguru wiped the lone tear away, his expression solemn yet resolute. "I know."
"Suguru," Gojo Satoru called out, his voice echoing with the weight of their shared history and the unspoken promise of redemption. "We'll meet again someday, right?"
His words were a whispered prayer, a plea for forgiveness and understanding that he never thought he'd utter. Each syllable hung heavy in the air, pregnant with the weight of their past and the uncertainty of their future.
Suguru looked at him with surprise, his expression a mixture of disbelief and resignation. And then, as if released from the shackles of his own sorrow, a laugh bellowed from him, echoing through the desolate landscape like a beacon of hope amidst the darkness. He smiled at Satoru, a genuine smile that reached his eyes despite the pain and regret that lingered there.
"At least curse me a little bit, in the end," Suguru teased lowly, his voice tinged with a sense of camaraderie that belied the gravity of the moment. It was a moment of levity amidst the heaviness of their shared grief, a fleeting glimpse of the bond that had once united them in friendship and camaraderie.
And then, as if on cue, your voice pierced through the silence, your words whispered softly yet audibly into the night air. "Go...od...bye," you murmured, your lips forming the words with a sense of finality that hung heavy in the air like a shroud. It was not strangled. But rather, warm. As warm as it used to be when you were alive. 
They both looked at you, their hearts heavy with sorrow and regret, yet filled with a quiet understanding and acceptance. Your smile, though fleeting, filled the space between them with warmth and reassurance, a silent reminder that even in death, love endures.
As your body started to fade into the ether, a silent farewell etched into the depths of your soul, Suguru reached out to them one last time. His hand extended toward Satoru, a gesture of farewell and gratitude for their shared moments of joy and sorrow. And in that fleeting moment, surrounded by the echoes of their shared past and the promise of a brighter future, they reached back, their hands intertwined in a silent vow of eternal remembrance and love.
Satoru watched as your body disappeared, wisps of what had been blowing into the wind like cherry blossoms in the summer breeze. His gaze shifted to Suguru, a bittersweet smile playing at the corners of his lips. It was a smile of contentment, of freedom finally achieved. Because he knew, deep down, that he would meet you soon. And in that moment, he felt no regrets, no sorrow, only the quiet acceptance of what was to come.
“I’ll do it once,” Satoru whispered to Suguru, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry.”
Suguru's smile widened, a sense of peace washing over him as he closed his eyes. He resigned himself to his fate. “Between you and me, Satoru,” he whispered back, his voice filled with a sense of finality. “There was never any need for thanks or apologies. I’m ready to go. I’ve been ready for ten years. All I want is to smile genuinely again.” 
And with those words hanging in the air like a silent promise, Suguru took one final breath, his spirit soaring free from the shackles of his earthly existence. He didn’t need to use his powers, Satoru thinks. He was already gone. Far too gone. And as he faded into the unknown, a sense of tranquility settled over the desolate landscape, one that had ever been so familiar. So full of memories of the four of you in your blue summer. It was now his turn, he supposed. To live with the ghosts of you and Suguru, for as long as he lives. 
As Geto Suguru's spirit faded into the unknown, Gojo Satoru stood in the quiet stillness of the brisk sunset turning deeply into the darkened night. He stood before his best friend’s body, letting a sense of peace settle over him like a comforting embrace. He watched as Suguru's essence dissipated into the ether, a gentle smile gracing his lips as he whispered a silent farewell to his dear friend.
In the moments that followed, Gojo Satoru felt a profound sense of closure wash over him, a weight lifted from his weary soul. For so long, he had carried the burden of their shared past, the guilt and regret weighing heavily on his heart. But now, as Suguru's spirit ascended to a higher plane, he knew that their journey together had come to an end. And now Suguru's journey began. You both were together now, that’s what he hoped for. Suguru was smiling beside you. That you both were waiting for him and Shoko. That’s what he wants to believe.
As the last traces of Suguru's presence faded from the air, Satoru closed his eyes, allowing himself to bask in the quiet tranquility of the night. In that moment, he felt a sense of gratitude for the time they had shared, for the laughter and tears, the joy and sorrow that had defined their friendship.
The tears fell from blue eyes easily.
He choked on his sobs, his head down.
It was never going to be easy for him.
He had to move forward, all he could do.
He had to live, for you and Suguru.
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yan-lorkai · 2 months
Note
Since I absolutely adored your fic on escaping Idia, could you by chance do something with a reader that broke up with him only to find out she was pregnant later? Honestly, I just want the drama of the reader raising this child alone and Idia finding out down that his ex had a kid.
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.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ A/N: I took this request and ran with it, I hope you like the drama! ⁽⁠⁽⁠ଘ⁠(⁠ ⁠ˊ⁠ᵕ⁠ˋ⁠ ⁠)⁠ଓ⁠⁾⁠⁾
.⁠。⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Yandere content, mention of stalking and controlling tendencies, threats, poison mention, afab!reader but no pronouns used.
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"You robbed me from being her father." Idia didn't sound angry. But there was a bitter taste that lingered on his tongue when he looked at you, the love of his life from when he was just a teenager and your child, sleepy on his arms, same blue hair shining under the dim lights. "I may not like it, but I understand why you did it. I'm so sorry that you didn't feel like you could tell me though."
In any other world, you could feel yourself melting at the scene that was so domestic, so sweet. But right now, when you are coming home, tired and hungry and seeing Idia sitting on your favorite armchair while he held your daughter so dearly and carefully in his arms? A shaky gasp left you, your heart starting to beat loudly in your chest as you watched each and every moviment he made, conscious of every chuckle, of his chest raised, of his eyes that lost their soft gaze and we're hardened now.
You still remember how he used to treat you when both of you were younger, he was like a spider weaving his web full of possessiveness, his words twisted to make you feel like he was the only one who could understand, love and treat you like you deserved.
You were dumb and innocent but dumb and innocent people don't survive for long out there. And when you realized that something was wrong, you had to do what you had to do in order to survive and escape him.
For seven long years you survived. But you felt as if a threat of death was looming over you for as long as you were stared by your ex-boyfriend - he didn't reacted well when you broke up with him. Like always, Idia threw a tantrum, begged and cried and screamed for you to stay, holding onto your legs pathetically. Though now he was older and got a more mature beauty to him, his eyes, so yellow, they were like diamonds watching you.
Your eyes followed the way his fingers moved and toyed with your daughter's hair, a tiny smile on her little lips as she got even comfier in his arms.
This was what you used to imagine when you lay in bed awake, thinking about the what ifs. What if you stayed? What if Idia was just a normal, good and plain guy that didn't scared you? Would he love his child? He did thought he was cursed, fated forever to always watch over the underworld gates, he told you himself. There were so many uncertainties, so much toxicity that you just ran away from your problems and him.
And now your past returned to bite you back.
"You should have told me. We could have done this together." Even he sounds unsure at that, a bit contemplative and thoughtful as he ponders what could have been of his life if he knew earlier about your pregnancy.
Toothy grin growing on his lips as he noticed your disgusted stare, so happy he could still make you feel something - anything was better than your hate, after all. The tick tock was the only sound echoing for a long moment before the growing anger bubbles up on your chest, not believing a single syllable that left his mouth.
"You got to be kidding!" You count on your fingers the number of creepy things he did, feeling your whole body shaking. Either from anger or fear, you can't tell. But it surely amuses Idia, who's smiling wider now. "Stalking me, watching me through the cameras, threatening my friends, you even tapped my phone and used to read my messages like they were a magazine, Idia! A kid wouldn't grown up to be healthy and normal around a freak like you."
You pointed in his direction, your finger jabbing at his face.
The illusion of a family had to end before it even begin. It was his fault that everything turned out to be this way and even with seven whole years passing by, Idia still wasn't able to see this. He was helpless, beyond help.
"That's a funny way to see things, Yuu-shi." He giggled softly, making you wince, the sound so unfamiliar now, while he rearranged the covers to wrap around your child tightly, not wanting her to wake up. Not right now, at least. "From the way I see, you hid my child existence from me. And honestly, I bet it was so hard and tiring, wasn't it? You worked two jobs to raise her, after all."
Your child let out a sleepy giggle, mumbling something on her sleep about her mom and dad finally being reunited. Idia looked back at you, smugness irradiating from him in waves.
"The nerve you got, I can't!" In an instant you were before him. Your whole body fighting to suppress fear and disgust, fighting against whatever was trying paralyze you. You had to take your daughter. You had to take her from him. You had to protect her.
He hummed a little, taking your hand on his. His grip was gentle, reverent even but strong enough to let you know he could overpower you whenever he wanted. He was looking at you through his eyelashes.
And you didn't like how he was looking at you. Like you were a collectible that he wanted to bury on his closet, to hide to never be seen again. Like he knew something you don't.
Exactly how he used to look at you in the past.
"You don't deserve to hold her, you don't even deserve to be near her." You told him petulantly. She was nothing like him. She was kinder and radiant, a good girl. She wasn't a calculating monster like her father.
You took her in your arms and he let you do it, crossing one leg over the other as he threw his head back and laughed.
"You tell me that she wouldn't like me but did you know that she was happy to know who I was? Did you know that she confided in me that you were working so hard that she missed you greatly but didn't want to annoy you?" You rolled your eyes at his attempt at lying, unable to believe anything he said.
There were no signs nor change on your daughter's behavior that indicates that any of this was true. At least, that you think so. You knew her better than he did.
You glanced at him, his eyes still smug but there was a pleading glimmer inside them that almost begged you to believe him this time. Raising a child was difficult, even more when you were raising one alone and had to be there for them 24/07, available emotionally and physically for whatever your daughter needed.
Looking at her soft, round face, you felt a pang of guilty. Idia was telling the truth or he was just messing with your head again?
He's lying, you screamed in your head. Of course he is lying. Lying is far easier than admitting that he was downright toxic.
The memories of his lies and half-truths were still fresh in your mind even after all those years, making it difficult to discern the reality now. You had trouble trusting people even to these days because of him. But his words struck a chord inside of you.
What if it was true? Your little one was a little more skittish and silent around you the past few days. You didn't want to believe this possibility. You couldn't. You worked hard to always be there in every moment, to not let her realize how it was to not have a parent around.
Had you failed?
"Why should I believe you now?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper. "You did nothing but hurt me when we were together. I don't trust and I don't like how you are all cozy on my armchair, in fact, you are not welcomed here at all.”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He obviously didn't want to talk about the past, it's not like he didn't know but in his twisted mind everything he had done to you was justified. Idia always do something with a purpose on mind.
"I know I've messed up before, more times than I can count. But this... this is different."
He gestured to your child, looking at her with a soft, fond gaze. You though didn't believed a second that he had a sudden change of heart just because of your child.
"It's true I didn't wanted a child because of my cursed blood and the fate that would await them. But when I hold her like this, nothing else seems to matter."
You scoffed at this, despising how sincere his voice was. "If you're telling the truth, why didn't she told me herself?"
"She was afraid, I guess. Afraid that you wouldn't understand or she didn't want to add to your stress. She thought she was doing the right thing." He exhaled slowly, the emotional turmoil inside him boiling over. Yet he forced himself to remain calm, to watch each and every step you make, every breathe you take.
Like a spider weaving its web.
His words hung in the air and you looked away, trying to sort through the conflicting emotions that surged within you. Trust had been broken before, boudaries ignored, there was no mending this. There was no salvaging the past, no matter how much he looked like a kicked puppy.
You held your daughter tighter. "Well, that was enlightening but I think you should go. Now."
Idia's eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flickering within them as he stood up and lazily stretched. "You're still trying to push me away?" He asked, voice low and cold. "I won't stop you, of course, I get that you're still afraid and all but are you sure you want me to leave? I walked right into your house. Didn't you even wondered how I entered? Or where the nanny you hired went? Or why our daughter didn't woke up yet?"
Desperation crept into your voice, a sudden realisition that perhaps he would do something foolish such as harming his own flesh and blood. "Idia, what... What do you mean by all that?"
He tilted his head slightly. hiding the curve of a smile with his hand, studying you with an intensity that made your skin crawl. You could only wonder what kind of things he was thinking and you didn't like it not knowing what to expect. You stared at him, heart beating loudly as held your daughter closer to your chest.
He laughed, studying you with an intensity that made your skin crawl. "You're scared," It wasn't a question but an observation. His smile got bigger. "Good, you should be. You think you have a choice in this? Your daughter… she's already been exposed to a little something I concocted. A slow-acting poison."
Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked down at your daughter, now noticing that she was starting to tremble. "How could you do this?" You whispered, voice choked with emotion.
"Because I love you," Idia said, voice low and intense. Taking a step closer, he was staring you face to face now, warm breath over you. "And I won't let you go. Not now, not ever. We're meant to be together and I'll do whatever it takes to make sure that happens."
Your heart pounded in your chest, panic and anger swirling within you. "Give her the antidote, Idia. Please; I'II do anything."
"Not yet," He shook his head slowly, a twisted smile on his lips. His tone was almost gentle and soothing. "You'll come with me first. Once we're safe and together, then she'll get the antidote. But if you try anything... if you try to leave or call for help, well..."
He let the threat hang in the air, the implications clear. Like a wreacking ball he destroyed everything you've worked for all these years. You hated it. And you hated how powerless you were right here, right now.
You felt a wave of despair wash over you, the weight of the situation crushing you. Your daughter's life hanging in the balance and there was no choice but to comply.
"Alright," Vou whispered, voice breaking. You looked at him with hatred and something more you couldn't name, too worried with your daughter's health. "I'll come with you. Just... please don't hurt her."
Idia's smile widened, a flicker of triumph in his eyes. "That's more like it," he said, reaching out to gently touch your daughter's cheek. "We'll be a perfect family, just like I always wanted."
With your heart heavy and your daughter's safety foremost in your mind, you followed Idia, knowing that you were stepping into a nightmare again.
But you could always escape... Right?
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daisyvisions · 3 months
Text
[12:17AM] - Love and Death (e.s)
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Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), roommate!Eric, voyeurism, masturbation (both m! and f!), use of s*x toys, clumsy and pervy Eric (if you think about it), allusion to smut, smut, and more smut 😉 Word count: 0.8K
A/N: We cheered! Another writing I managed to do hehe tagging @deoboyznet @aimeecarreros @winterchimez @snowflakewhispers
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Thinking about roommate!Eric, who can't stop thinking about you ever since he accidentally heard you pleasuring yourself through the thin walls of your shared apartment.
Look, it's not his fault, okay? Well… maybe it was? To him, it definitely was not his fault at all! He hadn't told you he was coming home earlier than expected that night, so you took it as an opportunity to have some alone time with yourself since you needed to de-stress badly.
And you were really going to town with your trusty vibrator, chasing that sweet release that seemed so hard to reach tonight for some reason. So amidst the constant whines and moans you were making, you hadn't heard Eric's door close.
At first, Eric didn't even notice the sound coming from your room since he had his headphones on. But as soon as he took the headphones off… he heard it.
The prettiest sound to ever linger in the air. A sound so sweet he felt like honey was dripping from his ears. He nearly felt his own two feet floating, slowly gravitating to the source of the sound.
And when he heard the voice curse under its breath, that's when he realized it wasn't a figment of his imagination but rather just his roommate on the other side of the wall.
He could feel the blood pumping south to his dick, his soft member now growing hard because of thinking of all the positions he would get you in, and especially how your lips would feel against his. He shouldn't be thinking like that at all!
But truth be told, it was hard not to since he had always harbored a crush on you but never said anything to avoid scaring you off. You two had a good friendship and he planned on keeping it that way… right?
He didn't even realize he was palming himself at this point. He needed to see how you looked like sprawled on your bed immediately, willing to risk it all in the name of love desire.
To his luck, you forgot to completely close your door as he slowly nudged the door with his fingers, the warm light seeping out along with the angelic sound of your moans becoming louder. As soon as his eyes found your naked figure on the bed, he was completely drawn like a moth to a flame.
You were definitely going to be the death of him.
Your hair formed a halo around your head, your core glistening under the warm light, you looked so ethereal. Eric was so entranced by you he didn't even realize his hand had slipped beneath his sweatpants and held his member in a tight grip.
Your face started contorting more and more as you kept on thrusting your toy inside you. Shit, were you going to cum already? Is that your orgasm face? Eric could feel himself getting close to the edge with you, wishing he was helping you get closer to the edge. Everything was going so well, both of you nearing your highs… until Eric's phone suddenly rang.
You gasped loudly, halting your movements when you heard the sound. Eric frantically tried to turn down the call, finding the button that would shut the noise. From the instant panic and wanting to make a run for it before you saw him, his legs somehow tangled themselves causing him to stumble inside your room.
You instantly cover yourself with the nearest pillow, about to lose your shit on Eric until he started rambling.
“I’m-so-sorry-I-know-I-should’ve-called-when-I-got-home-I-didn’t-know-you-were-awake-until-I-heard-your-moan-and-it-was-so-hot-I-had-to-see-it-for-myself-and-I-know-that’s-pervy-of-me-but-fuck-please-don’t-see-me-less-I’m-so-hard-right-now-that’s-not-the-point-fuck-sorry-why-did-I-say-that?-I’ll-just-leave-now-sorry-for-interrupting!”
Dead silence filled the air after Eric had practically rapped his apology. Oh, he's done for, you’re going to kick him out of the apartment tonight, ex-communicate him from your life, tell of your friends to watch out for this perv, maybe even tell your other friends to beat him up and-
“…You think my moans are hot?” You mumble under your breath. Eric looks up at you confused at first, but decides to answer your question without hesitation.
“The prettiest one I’ve ever heard…” He watches the gears turn in your head as you process his answer. A small smirk appearing at the corner of your lips. “Well? What are you waiting for? Come here and help me finish.”
You swear in that moment you had never seen Eric move at lightning speed to take off his clothes and hop on your bed, help you reach your high and even find the energy to go for rounds and rounds after.
Oh he was definitely going to be the death of you.
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serafilms · 9 months
Text
song 53! magic (one direction) + percy jackson requested by @isabelboo (2023 spotify wrapped event)
you, you’ve got this spell on me, i don’t know what to believe, kissed you once now i can’t leave
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Percy isn’t really sure how or when it started, but he’s pretty sure you’ve put some kind of curse on him.
His thoughts are consumed by you day and night. His vision tunnels in on you every time you’re around. Whenever you talk to him, all he can do is think of your lips. It’s excruciating. It’s nauseating. And it’s definitely affecting his daily activities, he thinks as he sits, dazed in the infirmary, with a stab wound (a very minor one!) in his side.
It has to be some kind of magic, he thinks, because he’s never felt like this. Maybe some voodoo? Maybe a trick by Hecate as vengeance for defeating the Titans. Maybe you’ve been slipping him potions in his food. It could be anything, and Percy is not as well-versed in magic knowledge as some other people at camp, so he has no idea.
But he finds himself always looking for you, asking after you. He finds himself trailing after you always, and depressed when you’re not around.
The strangest part is that nobody else seems to notice anything out of the ordinary, and he’s too afraid to ask them about it.
He mentioned something about it to Annabeth once, but she merely waved him off.
(“It’s like I can only think of Y/N,” he said.
Annabeth looked over her notes distractedly. “Uh huh, yeah, that’s great, Percy. Hey, since you’re not being any help here, would you mind getting Y/N so they can help me finish the Capture the Flag plans?”
Percy blinked. “Okay?”)
He thinks it must have started somewhere between all the times you held his hand to lead him somewhere, or the times he stood behind you to help correct your sword fighting posture, or the times you touched his hands and arms to correct his archery posture. He always ended up blushing furiously after each of those ordeals.
Or maybe it started that time he kissed you. Although, technically, you’d kissed him first (on the cheek, nothing crazy!) before he went off to face Kronos.
But then again, Percy had been the one to kiss you on the lips when he found you again after.
(“Percy!”
He heard the call of his name, registered your voice, and his head was already whipping around to find you. He found you, a strained look on your face as you hobbled towards him, and Percy rushed towards you.
No sooner had you steadied yourself by holding onto his forearms than he had leaned forwards and kissed you on the lips.)
But Percy couldn’t help it! He’d just been so worried about you, and so relieved to find you alive. He thinks maybe during one of those kisses you transferred your evil little spell.
Still, he hoped that kiss might have meant something to you, more than friendship, but you hadn’t gotten the chance to talk about it, since you’d collapsed on your broken ankle right after.
Even until now, you two have never really discussed what you are, or what the kiss/es entail for your future relationship. Because magic spell or not, Percy’s endless thoughts about you have him planning out your future (however much of it you can plan for two demigods who face certain death before their prime). An apartment in New York, close enough to his mom and Paul but not so close that it’s overbearing, college and planning schedules to match up, weekends out with your friends laughing and eating and watching movies and doing normal teenager things.
That’s all he wants. But he’ll settle for the lingering touches and smiles he gets from you for now.
But this curse, spell, whatever (because gods forbid Percy Jackson admit he’s in love with you before he’s sure you’re in love with him. They kissed you, Percy! What more do you need, for Zeus’ sake) is seriously becoming a problem, because somebody explain to him how from 30 feet away, Percy managed to see an Ares camper headed straight for you and make it over the battlefield in time to intercept it. With his own abdomen.
It was a stupid mistake, he acknowledges now. He’s been through countless battles, and he knows he could’ve incapacitated the camper from behind, or just knocked the spear out of his hand or something. But something about seeing you in danger just sets alight a fire in his mind that burns through any rational thought, leaving only an urge to stop you from getting hurt.
A little inconvenient now that he’s wincing on an infirmary bed with his side burning up. But at least you’re okay. And oh, look! It’s you! He’s not sure if he’s hallucinating now, or if you’re really standing in front of him.
“Seaweed brain,” you say, sniffling.
Okay, definitely you.
“Hey Y/N,” Percy says meekly. His side still feels like it’s on fire but his heart feels warmer with you here.
You take his hand and his heart aches at the tears in your eyes. “Hey, I’m fine,” he assures, ignoring the fact that he is definitely not fine.
“You’re an idiot, is what you are.”
“Yeah, that too.”
You look at him, at the ridiculous little smile he’s giving you to reassure you, at the bandages around his waist, and his hand in yours, and you lurch forwards and press your lips to his.
Percy jolts in surprise and feels his abdomen screaming at him from the movement, but kisses back nonetheless, feeling your lips on his once more and your tongue graze his bottom one.
When you pull back, he stares at you in a daze. If kissing is how you kept this spell on him, he is okay with being under it forever.
“You’re ridiculous, Percy Jackson,” you say, “but I love you.”
He swears his heart has never felt this warm. “I love you too.”
(“Sorry,” Leo says, looking rather gobsmacked, “they weren’t already dating?”
“Leo!” Piper throws her hands up in exasperation.
He smacks his cheeseburger back down on his plate and stares at the faces of his friends. Jason and Frank also look rather miffed, but the girls are all rolling their eyes. “Excuse me for being surprised! They’ve known each other since they were, what, 13?”
“12, actually,” answers Annabeth.
“12! When Percy woke up on the other side of America, the only name he could remember was Y/N’s, right?”
“Correct,” says Frank.
“And we spent ages on the Argo II, during which they got caught in the stables—“
“They were just talking,” says Hazel.
“—and they fell into Tartarus together! Because he refused to let go of her hand! They literally went all the way to hell, all the way through hell, and back out, together!”
Nobody says a word, all looking at Leo.
“You’re telling me,” Leo says, breathing very intensely as though he just found out that his pet dog has been run over, “that during that entire time, neither of them asked each other out?”
“Nope,” says Annabeth matter-of-factly, “and he also kissed Y/N on his 16th birthday.”
“Man,” Jason sighs, “talk about slow burn.”)
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velvette-creations · 3 months
Text
To be loved by death
Interview with the Vampire: Santiago x fem!reader 
Rating: Explicit 
WC: 1.5 k 
Prompt: “That’s an awful lot of blood” for @sweetspicybingo (Hurt/Comfort Bingo Collection)
Warnings: Heavy on the blood play, stalking, oral (f receiving), manipulation, mind control, biting, thigh riding
Summary: You become Santiago's prey
A/n: Ben Daniels as Santiago has a hold on me. First time diving into writing for this fandom that I've loved for so long
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A sense of dread crept up your spine as you took the last sip of your coffee at the quaint cafe on the corner. Your eyes darted around, but nothing suspicious lingered in your view. You placed the cup back on the saucer, the ceramic clinking together as you stood and left the money on the table. You hurried across the cobblestones, feeling like someone or something was following you. It was a feeling you couldn’t explain, but it felt like danger loomed in the distance, concealed in the shadows of night. 
Your pulse pounded in your throat. Heady and unstable. The pavement slapped beneath your worn leather shoes, the pointed heels scraping against the grooves. One unsteady movement caused your downfall and sent you spilling across the ground. Your palms scraped against the concrete as the rough surface tore through your stockings and resulted in skinned knees. Tears of humiliation burned your eyes as you swallowed down the pain. You were thankful this pathway through the park was abandoned this time of night; otherwise, you would have curled into a ball of shame.
“My, my, you took quite the spill.”
You lifted your head at the sound of the voice, shaking the loose curls out of your face as you peered around, your heart racing with anticipation. It was quite odd because it sounded like the voice surrounded all sides of you, echoing through the stagnant night air.  You gasped as a man appeared in front of you. Older with coiffed white hair and stunning blue eyes. Eyes that were not of this world, and something about them made you shiver. The black cape he wore surrounded him ominously as it billowed around his legs.
“What were you running from, ma chérie? Was a wolf chasing after the little lamb?”
You scooted away from him, your palms leaving a trail of blood along the cold ground, frowning as he taunted you. How dare he? He didn’t know you and had no right to be so condescending. If you were in a better mindset, you would have slapped him across the face for his brazenness.
“What’s wrong, chérie? Cat got your tongue.” A smirk crossed his face as he loomed over you. He was taunting you, and it made your blood boil.
“You are rude, monsieur,” you frowned, finally finding your voice while you slowly stood as pain surged through your body. You felt wobbly and lightheaded from the sight of your blood smeared against the concrete—a crimson gash reminding you of your folly.
“I have been told worse,” he chuckled. His demeanor shifted as he followed your gaze to the ruby blood sparkling in the dim light of the lamppost illuminating the park. “That is a lot of blood, chérie.” 
“I’ll be fine. Thank you for your concern,” you murmured, pushing your stinging palms together and cursing yourself for not wearing your evening gloves.
He tutted gently, stepping forward with intricate grace, and instinctively, you wanted to run. A cold dread set over you. Had he been the one you were running from? The looming dread from the shadows, the breath on the back of your neck, the mysterious figure who had set you on edge that sent you sprinting through the park toward the safety of your apartment. This feeling had followed you for a week; perhaps now, the answer stood before you.
“Of course I care, ma chérie,” he chided, stepping closer and drawing your hands into his. His long nails reminded you of spun glass. You stood frozen, fixated on his unnatural, spectral blue eyes as he lifted your palms to his mouth. His warm pink tongue rolled from his lips as he lapped at the tiny droplets of blood that clung to your scraped flesh. A scream felt caught in your throat, yet you were paralyzed. Pointed fangs extended from his mouth, dragging across your wounded flesh and splitting it wider. He reminded you of a cat enjoying their dish of cream.
“Please,” you whimpered, voice faint and cracked.
“The sweet essence of fresh youth,” he sighed happily, your blood splashed around his mouth, “You are going to be quite the treat, ma chérie.”
You trembled like a lamb caught in the wolf’s jowls.
~~
You waited in your apartment every evening at the same time. Minutes, hours, days, weeks, and months progressed and still, he kept the same schedule. The night ticked away, and the city of Paris was still alive as people enjoyed the treasures offered in the seclusion of darkness. As if on cue, you rose onto your bare feet and padded onto your balcony. The gentle breeze wafted through your loose hair as the hem of your black dress tickled your calves. You were mesmerized every night as he floated above the dimly lit streets and toward your balcony. Santiago. You were his dark bride, offering your flesh and blood to satiate his voracious appetite.
You gazed up as his hand cupped your chin and pondered how easily those long glass nails could puncture your skin. His lips were cold as ice as they pressed against yours. Warmth spread through you as blood bubbled to the surface, spilling down the corners of your mouth as he laid the first mark of the evening. Wordlessly, he took your hand, guiding you into the privacy of your apartment as the doors closed behind you. You moved as if under a laden spell as your fingers unbuttoned your dress, letting it pool around your ankles and leaving you in silky undergarments. Ones you had scrimped and saved for, savoring the delicate fabric as it slipped through your fingers.
Santiago stepped closer, using his claws to tear them to shreds until you stood naked before him. Not a single tear dribbled from your eyes at the loss of the treasured garments. You moved in a daze, slowly dancing in place to an invisible tune as he removed his cape, leaving him in dark trousers, a white undershirt, and suspenders. His piercing blue eyes remained fixed on you as you continued your silent dance before he pulled a chair into the center of the room. You straddled his thigh before skimming your hands over his muscled arms, marveling at how an older man kept in such shape. You supposed there were many mysteries about him that you would never uncover.
His mouth grazed over your neck, leaving the flesh pure and unmarked until he reached one of your breasts. His tongue rolled over your nipple until it stiffened under his touch. The sharp pain made you gasp and rock against his thigh as your blood oozed into his welcoming mouth. It was intoxicating; the pain was quickly replaced by euphoria. Lust unraveled through your body as Santiago continued to claim your flesh, savoring each drop of warm, delicious blood. Your arms circled his neck, one palm pressing against the back of his head to hold him closer.
Moving gracefully and quickly, he lifted you into his arms and placed you on the bed. He kissed his way down your belly, leaving a light trail of your blood over your quivering flesh until he lay between your splayed thighs. Pain and pleasure blurred together as he feasted on your thighs while his tongue claimed your slick cunt. Blood and arousal intermixed and clung to your flushed skin as your fingers buried in his white hair. The sweet release rolled through your body like waves crashing through the ocean. You knew he savored the blood more.
“Sleep, ma chérie. My sweet little lamb. I will return to you tomorrow night,” he whispered as his fingers gently slipped against the tender skin of your eyelids and closed them. A deep slumber grasped your body, pulling you under the swirling darkness of dreams.
Santiago tucked the blanket around your body, a few sparkling, wet, ruby droplets clinging to your glowing skin as the rest dried into a vexing crust. The next day, you would indulge in a hot bath and scrub yourself clean. He lingered for a moment, watching your chest heave with your shallow breaths, hot blood pumping through your veins—an intoxicating ichor that called to him. How selfish it would be to drain you and deny him such a treat.
“What win I, if I gain the thing I seek? A dream, a breath, a froth of fleeting joy. Who buys a minute's mirth to wail a week?” The words rolled from his tongue, ever the skilled orator and performing, falling onto deaf ears before he disappeared into the black night. You were left to your dreams.
You dreamt of your malcontent Santiago, giving your being over to him as his fangs and claws ripped apart your flesh. Consuming you until you were nothing as blood dripped from him. The wolf feasted upon the lamb. To be loved by death. To be wrapped in it’s tender embrace. What divine bliss. 
The next evening, Santiago did not arrive at your door, but instead, a courier who delivered a card and a wrapped box. Nestled inside the box, between layers of white tissue paper, lay a set of silky undergarments to replace the ones ruined the previous night. Inside the white envelope was an invitation to the Théâtre des Vampires on an evening of your choosing.
Join me, ma chérie. Perhaps you will welcome the dark gift. 
Your thumb traced over the elegant cursive of his signature. Answers awaited you. Time to let death embrace you.
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hurtghul · 10 months
Text
A LITTLE DEATH !
──── Damian Al Ghul x Reader. 571 words.
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Living after dying was too expensive a price that everyone avoided, because anyone would not be able to continue or repent when the effects of madness came. Everyone who has ever been revived in that well may never be the same again, Damian knew this very well, he has seen it with his own eyes.
The Lazarus Pit was too dangerous. They could use it on soldiers to keep the League of Shadows standing, not use it on loved ones. Using the grave of someone you love is like a death note delivered in front of the devil, on shaking knees. But the loneliness, the guilt, accumulated on him.
He let your inert body sink into the waters, freeing your death to the forces that his grandfather abused. It was a nightmare to see you like this, reminding him that he couldn't save you.
How did he fail like this? He is the heir of the Al Ghul, the blood of the deaths of his origins wells up in his veins. How did your death pass over him?
He can't allow it. No. He forbids you, in life and soul, to agonize in his presence, to abandon him and release him. You have to be with him, he won't let you even fall into the arms of death.
His eyes move over you, as he is always very curious about you. He is fascinated by your body, your curves, and the way the water covers your contours so softly on your fatal wounds. The gaze lingers on your soft, kissable lips, and he longs for the taste of your return. He wants to taste the sweetness of your lips with his. He longs for you, because he needs you. Damian will have wealth, soldiers, weapons, blood. But not having you is like a curse.
Soft, slow breathing is heard. The little chest goes up and down, in and out, in and out. But he doesn't move, not even a muscle, while he's listening to your every heartbeat from the edge of the Lazarus Pit.
Your body begins to react to the effects of the immortal waters, and he looked at you serenely. His hands clenched into knuckles, wishing for your own soul to be saved. Your fingers begin to move, and your body reacts, wanting to escape the waters as soon as you opened the eyes that Damian had loved so much from beneath the waters.
He gently lifts you into his arms and lifts you out of the water, feeling the living heat radiating from your body. He looks at you, intently, attentive to everything about you as he wraps his arms around your body tightly, not wanting you to escape from him.
“Beloved,” Damian whispers, his voice a hoarse but reassuring whisper. He feels your heartbeat. Oh, God. Your heart is beating, your lungs are breathing, your blood is reviving. He smiles slightly, noticing that you have calmed down from the waters and understand every part of what happened.
“I won't let you go… Again,” Damian whispers, almost to himself, holding you tighter, burying himself in your shoulder.
He can sense that you are agitated, your mind processing your return to life, wanting to ask. But the simple, cold gaze of those emerald orbs warn you to remain silent, like before you lost your life.
“I forbid you to leave me again.” He hissed, his breath now hitting your ear, sending shivers down your spine. He can't lose his favorite toy.
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