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lotus-n-l0ve · 7 months

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CRIMSON LOVE OF THE CURSED KING

— Ryomen Sukuna x Female Reader

She Is A Wild Flower In A Rose Field.

*⁠.⁠✧ SYNOPSIS : When the selfish merchant, F/N L/N, sacrifices his illegitimate daughter to the King of Curses for his own desires. Y/N starts to work for Sukuna. With every passing day they come closer, with every late night meetings, a feeling develops in their heart.

*⁠.⁠✧ WARNINGS & TAGS : True form!Ryomen Sukuna, historical au, husband!Sukuna, wife!reader, sacrificed!reader, master-servant au, cursing, offering au, use of y/n, kissing, blowjob, pet names, a lot of questions, misunderstanding, ooc!Sukuna, not proofread, 6.2k words.

*⁠.⁠✧ — NAVIGATION // JUJUTSU KAISEN MASTERLIST

➥ Heart Divider's by @cafekitsune

DO NOT PRESS [READ MORE] IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE. MINORS DNI, IF YOU DO THEN IT'S YOUR OWN RESPONSIBILITY.

Amusement is what Sukuna felt as he watched your adorable little figure sneak into the garden like a thief, looking left and right like a cautious cat who has stolen its favourite fish. Sukuna sat by the window on the second floor, blowing from the kiseru.

You still remained a mystery to the King of curses even after months of being here. Sukuna was known for wrecking havoc and destroying lands with a flip of his fingers. Kings and people from far away shiver in fear, when the monster will come for their neck next.

The kings and nobel heads offered him mountains of wealth and copious amounts of women. Sukuna never denied them but what he did with all that wealth or women was never known. To your misfortune or luck, your father, the infamous marchant, offered you, the illegitimate daughter, as the king's concubine. Then it was up to Ryomen Sukuna whether he would make you his queen or just another maid.

You were escorted to the estate in a carriage and then inside the shrine by none other than Uraume themselves. You didn't see nor hear from the king at the beginning of your stay here. Though you were made familiar with the other sacrificed maidens. Their fate was just like yours, sacrificed to the curse by their kings, fathers or even husbands, just to save their own life.

Every one of them was different from others. Some quivered when they even heard the name of their lord, while some were filled with rage for him. On the other hand some had developed the emotion called love for him. You waited everyday for him to decide your fate. It's not like you could run away from here. The estate was surrounded by dangerous curses who would kill you without a second thought.

Your days are spent like any other there. Waking up in the morning, then doing whatever work Uraume assigned you to. You were not still allowed to go outside yet so grocery shopping was not one of them. By the time the sun went down and the moon shone in the dark sky, most of you were permitted to go back to your own room. Only a few remain as per their schedule. You honestly like how your days were going but encountering Sukuna was inevitable.

It was three weeks after that you first came across the man, sitting by the inside pond. His back leaning on a round pillow. One hand held a book while the other had the wooden kiseru. The moonlight blessed down on him. Your feet stopped at the door. As he lifted his upper pair of eyes from the book, yours snapped down to your feet.

"I didn't know you would be here at this time, Master Sukuna. I'll take my leave." You bow down and turn to leave only to come to a halt when a deep voice sounded from behind.

"Stop right there." Sukuna watched as you paused before eventually turning around to face him. Sukuna beckoned you to come closer with two fingers, "Come here."

You walked up to him idly. Sukuna observed you from top to bottom. Just because it didn't seem like it doesn't mean that Sukuna doesn't know what goes on his property. He knew one and every person who worked for him. You were a new face he hadn't seen here before.

You stopped two hands length away from Sukuna, "You needed something, Master Sukuna?"

He hummed, pointing to the low table with his eyes, "Tidy up the table."

You tidied up the thin night kimono you hand on and sat down beside the table. You started with organising the books. Sukuna blew on the kiseru.

"You are new here." It was more of a statement than a question. His upper pair of eyes focused on the inked book but the stare lower pair weighted heavy on you.

You nodded your head, "Yes, Master Sukuna. I was brought here two weeks ago ………as an offering."

Offering huh? More like a sacrificed goat.

Sukuna scoffed inside. Of course this was not new. People of high status kept throwing slaves under Sukuna's feet like they meant nothing. More than half of his servants consisted of those offerings. Now Sukuna himself was not a gentleman, in fact he was far from being a gentleman but even he sometimes felt for their pathetic life. Sukuna would have rather died than being sacrificed for their selfish desires.

"Is that so? So, who were you offered by?"

You could hear the mocking tone lingering under his breath. If he tried to hide that, he did a terrible job but you doubt he was trying to hide it. You could not help but snort as you thought about the one who was behind all this.

"It was my father, Master Sukuna. He's a merchant from the West."

Sukuna saw no traces of sorrow in your expression as you talked about your father. As the matter of fact, your face was numb as if you don't care about him or your circumstances at all.

"You don't seem very upset with your situation." Sukuna carefully closed the book and dropped it in his lap, now just holding the kiseru. His all focus shifted on you and it made you feel a little jittery.

You stacked all the books away thinking to yourself, upset? You were far from that. Rather, you were liking your days here than you ever did at your father's house. Here, no one bore any hatred for you for your background. Your father wasn't here to remind you how much he despised you. Neither was his wife, who felt so jealous of her husband's affairs that she felt the need to torture you at every point of your life. Nor were your half siblings here who like their parents never hesitate to hurt you whether verbally or physically.

Others would call you crazy that you would rather work the vicious monster than your family but the uncountable faded marks littering on your body agreed with you.

You dared to raise your eyes to meet his', "I have no reason to be upset, Master Sukuna." With a small but content smile you put the brushes back in their place, "I am done. Now, may I go back to my chamber, Master Sukuna?"

"Hmm? Yes, you are dismissed." Sukuna waved you away.

You bow down one last time before leaving the room. Sukuna watched as you disappeared into the dark. Usually when people are brought here, they weep and sulk around. It takes them months to get over their pitiful state. And here you were, smiling as if nothing had happened in just two weeks. Nothing could be hidden from the King of curses but he could not figure out the void in your eyes. Too bad, Sukuna loved a worthy challenge.

After that night meeting Sukuna became weirdly frequent with you. When you were in the kitchen, Sukuna would drop by to order someone to bring him snacks. If you were cleaning the shrine, you would see him roaming the halls. If you were mending the garden, from the corner of your eyes, you could see him sitting by the window on the second floor, smoking kiseru or reading books.

But most frequently you met by the pond, where you met for the first time. At night when you could not sleep, your feets would always led you back there unconsciously. First few nights when you saw him, you tried to excuse yourself saying you didn't want to bother him but then he stopped you and let you sit there, just enjoying the view or sometimes reading a book. After some time it became a habit that you came to relish.

Who could have imagined that Ryomen Sukuna could be a comforting company? You two didn't talk but that did not bother either of you. Until one night.

Sukuna sat in his place, leaning on a round pillow, while you sat a little away from him by the table. The thin black kimono you had on did nothing to help you against the cold breeze of night that twirled with your open hair. Maybe, you should have worn something thicker. Your body shivered, goosebumps raising over your skin. As you wrap your arms around yourself, you feil to hear the rustling noise of clothes moving. No long after a black haori was held in front of you.

You followed the hand holding it and saw Sukuna deeply emerged in the book he had been reading from last night. He grumbled without looking up, "Take it. You have been quivering all night like a reed in the wind."

You could feel heat raising up your cheeks in embarrassment. Like a reed in the wind of everything? You muttered a quiet thank you under your breath which was loud enough in the silence of the night and took the warm haori from his hand. You wrap it around yourself and bask in the warmth of the fine fabric. You picked up the paint brush again, twirling it in the red liquid, you started placing strokes on the canvas.

"You are Y/N L/N, illegitimate daughter of F/N L/N." Sukuna commented.

Your hands stopped for a second before resuming to colour the canvas, "Yes, Master."

So he did a background search on you. Not like he needed to. Your father made sure to write a three page letter, singing praises of Sukuna that you handed to Uraume, hoping to find it disposed of in the garbage.

Sukuna chuckled, "Your father really believed that he could get me to be his puppet by giving me his illegitimate daughter?"

You were not sure who those scornful words were for. Your father for being so delusional or you for being a result of a wedlock. You would not put it past him though. He was after all the strongest of them all.

He didn't say anything for the rest of the night as neither did you. It was the dawn when he finally went back to his chember, leaving you for yourself. You waited for the footsteps to get fader before you also organised your things to take back to your room. Your room was on the first floor at the very end of the hallway. You didn't take much time to get ready for the day that was awaiting for you.

Night drawn upon, the moon dominated the night sky along with the millions of stars. You waited by the pond side for Sukuna but he didn't come. This was unusual, he was always here before you but today there was no sign of him. He was in the shrine that's for sure, you yourself delivered his dinner, though he was not in the room at that time.

Without his intense looming presence, you felt empty. Even his silence produced a comforting atmosphere for you which you missed dearly. You waited for him, one hour, two hours that turned into three hours but there was no sight of him. Sukuna was not entitled to work according to you after all you were just a mere peasant to him. But you could not help the disappointment heavy on your heart.

At last you got up with a sigh. Might as well get some sleep instead of dying of boredom. With a lamp in hand you started walking towards the library on the second floor to put the book at its place before going back to sleep. As you walked up the straits, out of nowhere a maiden ran past you, crying. You frowned your eyes wondering what on earth happened.

Standing at the top of the stairs, your eyes fell on the massive door of the master bedroom, where Sukuna resided. Many questions played in your mind. Did something happen to Sukuna? Or did Sukuna do something? You hated to admit but the first question worried you more than any other. Were you okay as long as Sukuna's fine even if it meant someone else's hurt?

You stopped in front of the shoji door, fidgeting with your fingers before you knocked on it twice, "Master Sukuna?"

No answer came from inside so knocked again, calling for him. Seconds later his deep voice answered, permitting you to go in. You took a deep breath before sliding the door open. Entering, you closed the door behind you.

Sukuna sat on the bed, the smoking pipe in his hand as usual. His chest on full display and red silken sheets hiding his lower half. Your eyes, unintentionally, cattled over the black tattoos that were inked on his body, from the smallest on his face to the strips on his chest. For being a monster, Sukuna seemed to be the favourite of God. Like God has centuries to create perfection, to you at least.

"What brought you here?" His lips curled into a smirk.

You quickly averted your eyes when you realised that he had caught you gawking at him like a shameless woman.

You clear your throat, "I-I saw someone running down stairs, crying."

Sukuna's face morphed into an irritated one, "So, you are here to see if I was the one that hurt her?"

"No, I wanted to check if you are okay." By the end of the sentence your voice reduced to mare whispers.

Now that you were saying it out loud, you noticed how ridiculous you sounded. Who on earth can dare or even think about hurting Sukuna. It was next to impossible. Well Sukuna noticed too because he was laughing like you have cracked the best joke of the century. You might have as well.

"Since you appear to be perfectly fine I'll take my leave. Good night, Master Sukuna." You were rushing out even before you could finish the sentence.

The door slammed shut behind you as Sukuna listened to footsteps running down the stairs, almost tripping on the last step. Sukuna wiped tears away from the corner of his eyes.

"O dear Y/N." Sukuna mumbled as he took a puff of kiseru, "You think that puny creature can land even a scratch on me?"

Though she knew how to piss him off real well. Sukuna thought back to the events that took place in his bedroom before you appeared. Sukuna wanted some good cunt to take out his frustration on. Like usual, Uraume made the arrangements.

Sukuna got up from the bathtub, water gliding down his muscular body. Quickly he wrapped a towel around his waist while he used another one to dry his hair. Sukuna was annoyed to say the least. Maybe he had gone quite soft nowadays because otherwise where do these peasants get the audacity to think that they can use Ryomen Sukuna?

Past days have been good for Sukuna. The reason? He has no idea. Or maybe it's those late night meetings with a curtain someone that kept his mood better. After all he anticipated the time when everyone would go to sleep and you would stumble upon the sitting area beside the indoor pond.

Your hair was always open, covering over your back. They always tempt him to just run his hands through them. He'd to clench his palms to not give in to his intrusive thoughts. Are you waiting for him tonight as well? How long will you wait for him? Are you thinking about him? Do you think about him like he does about you?

Sukuna walked into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed before finally addressing the girl who was kneeling on the ground a few metres away from. Her head was bent as ordered.

"Are you just going to sit like a useless doll?" Sukuna threw away the towel he was using to dry his hair, "Crawl on your knees here, pet."

Sukuna patted on his left thigh as two of his hands supported him as he leaned back a little. The kneeling girl got on all fours and started crawling towards him. Her back arched a little too much, putting her boobs and ass on show through the sheer kimono. She got between spreaded legs, sitting on the floor. She looked up at him with a cy smile as she slid her hands up his thighs.

She grabbed the hem of his towel and tied the knot, pulling it off. Cold air hit his two dicks making them twitch. The girl took one dick in her hand, giving him long strokes and giving kitty licks on the moist tip.

Sukuna grabbed a fistful of her hair, "What are you waiting for? Do what you came here to do."

Sukuna shoved his dick in her mouth, making her gag for life. She quickly calmed herself and started bobbing her head up and down. She hollowed the inside of her mouth, taking all in. Her small hands stroked the other one, giving them both the same amount of pleasure.

Sukuna threw his head back, groaning, as her tongue traced the throbbing vein wrapped around his cock. Images flashed in Sukuna's mind. Images of you kneeling between his legs instead of this no name girl. How good you would look taking his cocks like the good slut you were. Your mouth would puff up with his cook while your hands would work on his other one.

"F-fuck……. So good, you goddamn slut." His grip tightened as the thrusts became rougher and rougher. His red tips hitting the back of her throat. Tears swelled in her eyes in pain and pleasure.

"Y/N…… Y-Y/N, princess." His eyes rolled back as his hot cum shot in her mouth and chest. His hands released her hair, glancing down, disappointment filled inside him as he saw another girl instead of you.

"Master Sukuna, Who the hell is Y/N? I am Ayame." The girl cried out, "How could you call me by another girl's name?"

Her loud cries added to his annoyance. Before she could understand, Sukuna had grabbed her jaw in a tight grip, sneering at her, "Listen here you bitch, you are just a mare whore to satisfy me. Don't even try to cross your lines. You are nothing but a toy for me to play with, even that, you can't do right." He jerked her away, "Now scram."

She didn't need to be told twice. Her admiration for the king had clouded her mind, that she forgot his true nature. He was a notorious monster, not some prince charming. In a blink of an eye she was running for her room, completely ignoring the girl on the stairs.

Sukuna sighed, shaking his head. Too much drama in one day. At least your flustered face was worth it.

Water showered from the watering can on the flower plants in the garden. You carefully watered every plant. It was early morning, you wanted to finish before the sun hovered over the head and dried them dead. As you came to an end, you saw something rushed past from the corner of your eyes. It was so fast that you almost missed it.

You dropped the can on the ground and marched up to the bush that it hid behind. Parting the leaves, you came across possibly the most beautiful bunny you have ever seen with the most beautiful white fur.

"O my gosh! You baby." You gushed over it but that only seemed to scare it more as you saw it stepping back in fear. You saw the white fur on its left back leg wet with blood, "Don't worry you poor little thing, I won't hurt you."

You slowly brought your hand over it's head to pet but the second your hand was about to touch it, it sprinted off in the jungle behind the shrine.

"Come on, don't run away from me." You shouted as you ran behind the rabbit.

But it didn't stop, going farther into the forest and you ran behind it without any idea of direction. You don't know how long you ran for but soon your legs gave out and you found yourself slumping down under a tree, out of breath. Minutes passed before your racing heart came to a steady pace. You looked around and reality hit you hard. You had absolutely no idea where on earth you were.

You got up from the ground and started walking from the way you came from. It was half an hour when you finally accepted that you were lost. Panic bubbled in your heart. There was only high greenery wherever you looked. Not a single idea what way you came from.

Damn you bunny! And damn you stupid Y/N!

But you didn't stop. You walked and walked till the forest became dark and the moon came up. Everything around you had covered itself into black. Big shapes taking the forms of the terrific monsters. Goosebumps arised all over your body, in cold and fear. Ironic. You feel comfortable with the King of Curses but here you are, getting scared of silhouette. Your steps got wobbly and slow.

À rustling noise came from a bush and that injured rabbit hopped out of it. You shriek in fear, stepping back without seeing and before you know you are falling down the slope. Your body rolled down on the ground, twigs scratching and digging in your skin and all you could do was cry in pain. At the bottom you slammed on to a tree. You felt like all the air had left your lungs.

Tears burned your eyes and sobs erupted from you uncontrollably. With the help of hands, you brought yourself up to rest your back on the tree. Blood ran down from the cut on your forehead. Your body was aching for some rest, fighting for its life to stay away. You felt utterly hopeless.

Will anyone even notice that you've disappeared from the shrine? Will Sukuna notice that you didn't go to the usual meeting spot tonight? It's as if you had gone back to those days in your father's house. Where no one loved you but everyone loved to take their anger out on. At the crack of dawn when you went back to your little room, your body would feel like hell with all the new marks added on your skin.

When your father disclosed the news that you would be offered to Sukuna as a peace offering, you didn't feel an ounce of surprise. You had already accepted your misery. Maybe it was the result of your previous life's sin that you would meet your end by Ryomen Sukuna. But what shocked you was that your life with the cursed king was thousand times better than you had back home. Though you aren't sure if you could call that home.

Sukuna may be known for his cruelty but you would not think twice if you were told to worship him, consider him your god. He was your god. You could live your whole life being his loyal priestess. But what does he think about you? Are you as important to him as he is to you? Or are you just a toy for his entertainment? Well play toys are replaceable. Like the girl from the previous night, he's got many.

Your eyelids became heavy and the dizziness hovered in your mind. Much to your resistance, the world around you disappeared and your body slumped against the tree, unconscious.

Back in the shrine heavy footsteps thud on the wooden floor, Sukuna's huge body moved down the dimmy hallway, eyes glaring into nothing. Behind him, Uraume followed with a poker face but a storm was going inside their head. Sukuna stopped at the end of the hallway and threw the door open that slammed against the hall. Few panicked screams came from other rooms but Sukuna paid no mind to it.

His jaw clenched as he found the room empty, no sign of you being there. His eyes flared in anger and hidden disappointment. So, you finally resorted to running away? Was your life that bad here? Or did you just hate him that much? Sukuna doesn't remember doing anything that will lead to taking this kind of step.

"Uraume." His voice roared in the hallway, "Since when is she missing?"

"We noticed her absence this afternoon, Master Sukuna."

Sukuna threw them a glare, "And why was I not informed?"

"You ordered us to let her do anything she wants so we didn't pay much attention there." Uraume looked down, ashamed, "I'm sorry, Master."

"If I don't find her, you'll be more than sorry." Sukuna grunted before walking past them.

Soon there was a crowd of curses in the manor. Sukuna ordered every one of them to find you before sunrise and inform him. Sukuna sat on the throne, waiting for any news of you as he reminisced over the moments you two spent together. When he first saw you standing on the doorway, moonlight made you glow. You reminded him of that myth, moon princess.

Or those times where you showed no fear, hatred or disgust for him. When you saved the best looking fruit to serve him yourself every night. When you coloured the blank canvas with his palette. Those nights when you dominated his dreams, from the filthiest to the fluffiest. When you looked at him with nothing but pure affection that made his heart flutter. Then why? Just why did you run away?

The door opened and Uraume hurried inside, "Master Sukuna, they have found Ms. Y/N."

In an instant Sukuna was out of the door and into the woods led by Uraume. Questions played in his mind. What state were you in? Were you okay? Were you hurt? Did any stupid curse spirit attack you? Uneasiness filled him from inside the more he went deeper into the woods. How far have you gone?

At last he caught the gimpels of your slumped body. Sukuna crouched down in front of you, sliding off the strands stuck to your sweaty forehead only to realise that you've fainted. His eyes ran over your wounded body, at that moment he wanted to punish you for putting yourself in this position more than anything.

Silently, Sukuna slid one hand under your knees and one underneath your back and picked you up. Sukuna went back to the shrine with you in his arms.

When your eyes opened, an unfamiliar ceiling came to your view, too fancy to be your room. You frowned your eyebrows. What were you doing here? Then everything hit you from the previous day. You were not in the forest. That meant that someone had found you and brought you back here. Who was it?

You sat up on the soft bed, letting the blanket rest around your waist. Looking around, your eyes fell on the man sitting on the tatami mat with his back turned to you. His huge build and pink hair, hard to not notice. So he's the one who saved you? Again?

Your heart swelled up in happiness. Was he worried about you? Has he personally gone out to look for you? Did he miss you?

"Master Sukuna?" You called before you could understand. His back visibly stiffened but he remained still. Did he not hear you? You call him again but this time he roughly stood up and left the room. Confused is what you were with his actions. You wondered if you did something wrong. Seconds after he left, Uraume entered with a tray in hand.

They placed the tray on your lap, "Ms. Y/N, please drink some warm soup. You'll feel better."

Uraume said and took a seat beside the futon, on the tatami mat. Just as you were about to refuse, your belly rumbled embarrassingly loud. In the embarrassed silence, you picked up a little bit of steaming soup in the spoon, blowing on it and then drinking it.

You noticed that you were not feeling any kind of pain and there were no cuts or bruises on your body. After that fall you were sure that you would have at least one broken bone.

Uraume saw you inspecting your arms and they answered your unasked question, "Master Sukuna healed you."

You muttered a soft 'hmm' and silence engulfed you again. It was awkward, especially because the all put together Uraume was fidgeting with their sleeves.

You kept the tray aside with the empty soup bowl, "What is it, Uraume-san? You look anxious."

Uraume dropped their head on the floor, "Have we done something wrong that you had to take this kind of step? If so, please punish us."

Their sudden action sent you into panic mode, "Wait wait wait, What do you mean?"

"Master Sukuna is deeply hurt by your attempt to run away. Please don't punish him for our mistakes." Uraume answered.

Run away?

You threw off the blanket and grabbed them by their shoulders, bringing them up, "Uraume-san, I am confused. When did I try to run away?"

The next words that came out of Uraume's mouth sent you in a spiral. How they misunderstood you going missing. They also mentioned how hurt and angry Sukuna was. That explains his attitude just now.

You palmed your mouth, "O my lord! That's… um.... it's not, where is Master Sukuna? I've to clear this misunderstanding."

You ran out of the room, ignoring Uraume's shouting to not strain yourself. The first place you looked for him was the library where he spent most of his day, drowning himself in the poetic world of other's imagination. Unfortunately it was empty but there was a pile of books left on the table as if someone had tried so hard to read but just couldn't concentrate.

Next was the throne room but it also devoid any sign of him. Where could he be? What place would he go to? Then it clicked. That place. Where you first met him. Where you enjoyed the serene silence of the night. Where you slowly but surely fell for him. The indoor pond.

As you neared the place, muffled voices became clear. Deep raspy voice of you King and a higher pitched feminine voice.

"............. Please Master, I've surrendered myself to you. Why can't you see my love?" Tears streamed down Ayame's porcelain cheeks as she stared at Sukuna's back. Even while sitting down he almost towered over her petite figure.

Sukuna grunted, feeling irritated but otherwise decided to ignore her existence. If it was any other time, she already would have been sliced into million pieces. But at the moment, neither he had any wish nor any energy to put someone in their place.

The whole night Sukuna spent staying by your side and healing your wounds. In the process he discovered all the fading marks on your body when the maid changed you out of that dirty attire and onto a more comfortable blue one. Sukuna had a faint idea who might be the cause of those bruises. Of course who else other than that greedy bastard of your father.

It took every fibre in his body to not go on rampage and find that fucker. Sukuna wanted to give him the slowest and the most dreadful death anyone could even think of. But patience is the key to a satisfying result.

"Master Sukuna, that girl doesn't even love you. She didn't think twice before pulling that stunt."

Sukuna groaned in annoyance. Can't this girl just shut up for once. Ayame knew that she was crossing the line or may have crossed it long ago, it might cost her her life but today was her chance. If she could show him just how much she loved him and deserved his love, she might get to be with him for eternity. She could turn into a damn cannibalistic curse for him.

She gulped down the fear and approached him, "I love you, Master Sukuna, way more than that ungrateful girl could ever—"

Just as she was about to place her hand on his shoulder, a pair of hands grabbed her wrist in a painful fist. The huge one belonged to Sukuna while the one underneath his was much more skinny to be his. Both Sukuna and her eyes followed it and they saw you standing there but you were only looking at Sukuna. He instantly withdrew his hand back and got up, standing at the edge of the pond.

You jerked her hand off, "I do not appreciate anyone talking bad about me behind my back."

"You've got some nerves to say that after the atrocious stunt that you have pulled the night before." Ayame gritted words out between her teeth.

"Don't act so over smart. You don't even know what actually happened. I would never……" Your voice softened, "I can never do that."

Ayame scoffed, "You think anyone will believe your bullshit? If you really didn't try to run away then what were you doing that deep into the forest?"

"I don't owe you any explanation, whoever you may be."

"I'm Ayame—"

"I don't want to know." You ignored her fuming face and walked up to Sukuna instead, "Master Sukuna—"

"Ayame." Her face lit up with hope as Sukuna called her name but that soon turned into disappointment with his next words, "Get out."

Ayame took her leave with an already broken heart. Sukuna went back to being silent again, giving you a chance to explain yourself. You wait for the door to close and give you the much needed privacy but that never happened. You ignored that too.

"Master Sukuna, I didn't try to run away, it's a big misunderstanding." You explained everything, each and every small detail but you were not sure if he even believed you.

His back still faced you, Sukuna remained silent for some time before finally saying something to you, "Why should I believe you? For all I know all this might just be an excuse from you so that I don't kill you."

Sukuna's mouth worked without any thoughts, "Maybe you really intended to get as far away from me as possible. All this time that you spent with me was to make me let my guard down. I was shocked when you said that you aren't scared of me, that might have been a lie too right?......."

It hurt you to see him doubt you and your unspoken relationship. As you tried to interrupt him, his bombarding voice stopped you. Even you were starting to feel frustrated with the situation. At last you let frustration take over you.

In just three steps you were standing in front of the king of curses. You wrapped your arms around his thick neck and got on tiptoes, then your lips crushed on his rough ones. Sukuna didn't react instantly but then his stiff body relaxed. He reciprocated the kiss with much more passion. A hand tangled with your open hair while another rested on the middle of your back. Two hands wrapped around your waist and rested on you ass.

His tongue explored every corner of your mouth. Your hand sneaked up on the nape of his neck and twisted in his pink hair. Sukuna moved, taking you along with him and you followed blindly. Then you felt yourself falling and hitting the cold water of the pond.

You yelped in surprise, "Master Sukuna!"

Your fingers dug on the fabric over his shoulder in death grip. Sukuna kept a firm hold around your waist as he removed the hair on your face that was blocking his view. Water clung to him, making him appear more appealing than ever.

"You cannot live without me?" Sukuna said as his lips curled up in a smirk, using your earlier said words to tease you.

However the smirk was wiped off his face the next second when instead of shying away, you pulled him close till your breast was squeezed against his chest, "I, the loyal servant of the King of Curses, Ryomen Sukuna, can not live or even think of living without my King."

"You are getting bolder these days." Sukuna whispered under his breath and you reciprocated it with, "The effect of you, my King."

Sukuna wasted no time devouring your lips in his. Both soaking wet from the water, you let yourself be lost in each other, exploring each other's body. Clothes shredded, bodies entangled, and two cursed souls became one. Ayame stood outside, her back leaning against the wall as tears streamed down her cheeks and neck. Maybe she truly didn't deserve him.

Thus began the crimson love of the cursed king, Ryomen Sukuna.

"Come here baby, I brought you your favourite fruit, peaches." Sukuna watched as your kneeling form gushed over the white rabbit who hopped out from behind the tree, taking the peach and feasting on it without any care, "Eat fast before anyone sees you here."

It was the same injured one that had caused chaos in your life months ago. You found it wandering in the garden after that passionate night when you gave yourself completely to Sukuna. Sukuna sometimes wonders whether he should let you know that he already knows about him. But seeing you hop around, scared of him finding out is too entertaining.

"Y/N!" Sukuna called from the second floor.

"Bye bye baby." You shoo-ed the bunny away in fear. Sukuna could barely suppress the laugh as you sprinted inside the shrine, "Yes, Master Sukuna, I'm coming."

Yeah, he definitely should not.

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#ryomen x reader #ryoumen sukuna #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna #sukuna ryoumen x reader #sukuna ryoumen x you #Sukuna ryomen imagine #sukuna imagines #sukuna imagine #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #lotus writes

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peachdues · 1 month

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THE WIND AND MOON

PROLOGUE ♢ SANEMI SHINAZUGAWA X LUNAR PILLAR!READER

A/N: oh boy! The fic that started it all is back in progress (with a slight title change).

This will be a slightly canon-divergent AU, wherein Lunar Breathing is inherited and there's actually some power involved with the breathing techniques as a whole (as opposed to the styles just being nice sword movements with illustrations lmao).

Reader will be Sanemi's tsuguko for a time, and she will eventually become a Hashira. This is their story.

This will be a multi-part fic. Be warned: the Reader is a very morally gray character (but we love her for it).

@ghost-1-y thank you for reminding me of my love for this fic.

Massive CW: 18+, canon-typical violence, graphic violence, gore, child death, and implied S/A. Smut to come. MDNI.

Sanemi was there that day; the day she became part of the Corps.

The day her world ended.

It was fucking freezing that morning. The sky was a muted gray as snow drifted down from the heavens in wet, fat clumps. It had started sometime the previous night, and by the morning, the village had been covered in its thick blanket.

The carnage, however, was fresh, and so the snow was not white.

Only an hour had passed since the watery gray light of dawn bled into the sky from the east, when Sanemi’s crow swooped low over his head, tugging frantically at his hair. Beside him, the Flame Pillar ducked as his own crow joined the panic.

“Northeast! Northeast! Right at the base of the mountain! A horde of demons attacked the village!” They cried in tandem.

Not just one. A horde. A swarm of demons had descended upon a moderately populated merchant village, tearing it and its people to shreds.

Both the Wind and Flame Pillars furiously made their way northeast, one of the crows bleating that Tengen and Iguro were also en route. As they ran, the birds alternated in snaring what little information they had of the village, and what had prompted the attack.

It was because of her; or rather, her family.

The head of the village was a merchant known for his imports from the West. His success meant the village prospered as a whole, and it was popular for its numerous small shops and tea houses which lined the streets, always crowded with locals and travelers alike.

Demons had no use for money or exotic baubles; but Muzan Kibutsuji had a keen interest in obliterating Lunar Breathing from the world.

So he had.

The very merchant whose business prowess bolstered the local economy with his imports was directly descended from the clan which had created Lunar Breathing, Breath of Sun’s powerful, dark twin. The merchant was the youngest and only living relative of the aging head of the Lunar Clan, a retired Hashira who’d never taken a wife. But unlike the other breathing techniques, Lunar Breathing was an inherited talent, and without an heir, there would be no one to continue the great family’s legacy.

That burden was thus placed on the surviving eldest child of the merchant whose village both Sanemi and his comrade now rushed to.

There had been an elder son, Rengoku’s crow revealed, but he had died a few years prior from illness. And so, the merchant’s middle child was made the new heir, tasked with the mission of becoming a demon slayer so that she could continue on the Lunar Breathing tradition.

Her.

There was no word as to whether she had been present for the attack. Final Selection ended only a few days prior, and it was entirely possible that she either had been killed on the Mountain, or that she was still making her way back to the village, unaware that no one would be there to welcome her home.

There was certainly no greeting for the Pillars when they finally arrived at the mountain’s base. The village was eerily silent as Sanemi and Rengoku crossed over the small bridge abutting its ravine; still. Dawn had given way to a dark gray sky, and visibility was not ideal.

Not that it would’ve taken much effort to see the blood and gore that littered the village’s once lively streets.

“What on earth?” The Sound Pillar’s familiar voice broke the silence, as he and Iguro approached their comrades from the Eastern gate of the village. Behind them, trailed a group of nearly thirty Kakushi.

The Hashira slowly took in the nightmare around them, stunned into horrified silence as they beheld the level of destruction which had befallen the village just hours before.

“Kakushi. Spread out. Look for any survivors. They may be buried or hiding.” Rengoku’s voice was steady but uncharacteristically grave, his face stony and hard. “Shinuzagawa, we should make our way to the Lunar Merchant’s estate. We need to send word to the Clan head right away if-“

“You didn’t hear?” Iguro interjected. “The head of the Lunar House is dead.” Though the lower half of his face was covered, the anguish on the Serpent Pillar’s face was evident. “That’s where Uzui and I just came from. He was ripped to shreds.”

“Fuck,” Sanemi hissed, a toxic mixture of anger, guilt roiling in his gut. An entire clan — and entire village— had been decimated in a matter of hours, and no one had been able to protect them.

They hadn’t been able to protect them.

“Have we any word on the Lunar heir?” Rengoku asked quietly. Iguro and Uzui shook their heads. “Then she likely is lost, too.” The Flame Pillar turned back to Sanemi, his face a mirror of his own. “Let’s go.”

The snow and wind picked up just as the two swordsmen approached the Lunar Merchant’s manor, obscuring part of the wreckage before them. From the corner of his eye, Sanemi swore he spied movement out of the back corner of the estate, but when he turned to examine it, all was still.

Beflre he could inquire further, a sharp gasp to his right snapped his attention back to the Pillar at his side. But Rengoku was not looking at him; rather, he was staring directly ahead, right to the courtyard of the manor.

“Heavens above,” the Flame Hashira whispered.

Sanemi followed his gaze through what had been once-proud iron gates, though only half of it remained hinged. The other had been ripped from its stone setting, twisted by some unfathomable strength and thrown carelessly to the side. Just past the gate, Sanemi beheld a single, bloodied arm.

His heart dropped sickeningly to his stomach at what lay beyond it; for there was not an inch of ground that hadn’t been saturated with blood and bits of gore.

Chunks of flesh and torn limbs bearing harsh jagged teeth marks were strewn across the snowy garden. Broken glass and wood from the manor littered the ground, and the few walls that remained standing had been showered in a thick coat of crimson.

But the carnage did not end with the massacre on the courtyard. Sanemi forced himself to look upon the half-severed bodies of those who’d been stuck to the sloped roofing of the Manor, as though some demon had plucked fleeing humans from the yard to feast on them mid-air, adorning the handsome estate with a shower of bloodied entrails.

He did not notice the small group of Kakushi that had arrived at the Manor until he heard their gasps and cries of horror. Behind him, Sanemi heard one or two begin to retch, unable to stomach the carnage before them.

“Move!” Sanemi barked, his voice scratchy over the lump forming in his throat. “Fucking look for survivors! Anyone!”

A few paces ahead, Rengoku called up to the crows checking above. “Do you have a description of the heir?”

“She is around eighteen, Lord Rengoku!”

Not helpful, given that most of the bodies around them were unrecognizable. But it was something.

Rengoku turned back to Sanemi. “I will check inside the house. You!” Rengoku called to a small group of three Kakushi nearby, “With me!”

Sanemi continued to make his way through the debris and body parts in the courtyard, lifting stone and wood in hope that he might find someone — anyone — who had managed to hide. Yet that hope dimmed with every stone he turned, as he found only the scraps of the people who’d once called the Manor home.

He came across a large chunk of curved, chiseled stone that was half-embedded into the soft ground below. Grunting, Sanemi heaved the rock aside, thinking it was perhaps part of some fountain or statue.

His stomach lurched as the stone toppled heavily over. For there, crushed beneath the weight of the rock, was the small body of a child, severed completely at the torso. Her two halves lay next to one another, a ragged seam torn between the two as though pulled apart by force.

Sanemi felt the bile rise in his throat as his gaze fell upon the child’s face, utterly frozen in fear. Though death had snuffed out the light of life from her eyes, it had done nothing to conceal the terror she’d felt in her last moments, the girl’s mouth stretched wide, fixed in her final scream.

She was no older than ten.

He could not help it. Sanemi turned away from the grisly sight and vomited into the snow, every inch of him trembling. He wretched until his stomach was empty and his throat burned from the acid and strain of his dry-heaving.

With great effort, he managed to straighten, his breath short and choppy. But he forced his legs to carry him forward, though any hope that they would find the Lunar Heir or any survivor grew dimmer by the second.

Even as Hashira, Sanemi knew he’d never seen wreckage quite like this.

He neared the center of the courtyard, and halted before a large, circular stone inset that had been smashed to gravel, leaving only a single, large piece of rounded stone wall standing.

Found the fountain, Sanemi thought bitterly. Another sharp, icy gust of wind whipped its way through the courtyard, disturbing the little bit of snow that wasn’t packed down with the carnage. But the wind also stirred up something else, something dark and wispy.

Had the Wind Pillar’s lilac gaze been focused anywhere but that piece of stone, he would have missed it softly fluttering up before disappearing beneath the lip of the fountain.

Lips mashed into a tight line, Sanemi moved to examine the other side of the broken stone. As he did so, Rengoku reappeared on the outer steps of the engawa surrounding the Manor, a frown etched deeply on his face.

“Shinazugawa, something is off. The demons’ presence is obvious, but the house looks like it was ransacked— jewels, silks, valuables, all strewn about. Some of it seems to be missing —“

“I found her.” Sanemi bit out, gruffly. “The heir.”

It was her hair, Sanemi realized. Her hair was what had been disturbed by the wind, a few strands having drifted up before settling back down upon the bloodied shoulder of the lifeless girl collapsed before the fountain.

Had there not been a thick spread of red-stained snow and earth beneath her, Sanemi almost would have thought she’d been sleeping. Her face was almost devoid of any injury, save for a few fresh scratches along her jaw and temple. Her eyes were closed, long dark lashes tickling a soft, and unblemished cheek, as pale and smooth as the Moon. And there was a serenity to her expression, a calmness that posed a stark contrast to the chaos and horror which surrounded her.

The rest of her had not been left untouched. Sanemi noted that while she appeared to have maintained her limbs, her back was soaked in blood, no doubt the source of the large stain beneath her. Grimly, he noted that her blood still oozed from an unknown wound between her shoulders. Her left arm was stretched out before her, wrist bent at an unnatural angle, its skin mottled from a mixture of the cold and an attempt to bruise before her blood had ceased flowing in her veins.

Beneath the torn and bloodied haori around her shoulders, were a pair of pants and a fitted, long sleeved top which had clearly seen better days. Her clothes hosted various tears and stains, and she was so caked in blood and mud that it was difficult to further discern her body’s condition.

The crows had said the Lunar Heir was around eighteen years of age, but as Sanemi stared at her lifeless form, all he could think about was how small she looked; how young she’d been, when she lost her life to the brutality of demons.

The thought made his blood run cold.

“No doubt this is her,” Rengoku said heavily, nodding at wounds Sanemi had not noticed on her hands. Squinting, the Wind Pillar spied bruises and cuts in various stages of healing dotting her knuckles and fingers.

He suspected more lay beneath her soiled clothing.

“Final selection wounds,” the Flame Pillar confirmed. “She must have just returned from the mountain when the attack began. Perhaps she even stumbled into the middle of it.” Rengoku shook his head. “She didn’t stand a chance.”

It was well known that even if one survived final selection, they would likely descend the mountain with some degree of injury. Seven nights without access to shelter, food, or water was difficult enough, but the added danger of starving demons almost guaranteed that one would not emerge unscathed.

She must have been wounded, and severely enough to slow her return home by a few days. Even if she had the skill to hold her own against the swarm of demons that had attacked her village, whatever injuries she sustained during final selection likely sealed her fate.

Sanemi swore, looking over the last of the Lunar Breathing Clan, the acrid bite of guilt and pity seeping hotly into his veins. The poor girl survived the controlled horrors of final selection only to meet an even more grisly end at her home — where she was supposed to be safe.

Cruelty; utter cruelty, and a damn tragedy.

“She will get a Slayer’s burial, in the Master’s garden.” Rengoku declared firmly, raising his voice so the nearby Kakushi would hear. “She passed Final Selection; she’s one of us.”

“No,” Sanemi said, voice hoarse. “Bury her here with her family.” His eyes returned to the girl’s face, an inexplicable bitterness coating his tongue. “She fought to return to them; let her be with them.”

He lifted his eyes back up to the ochre gaze of the Flame Pillar. Rengoku stared at him for a long moment, before nodding, turning back to the Kakushi. “You heard Shinazugawa. Let’s give them all a proper burial.”

The Kakushi began to move, thorough and efficient even among the horror around them. Sanemi readied himself to assist, moving to stand when his eyes snagged on the girl’s torso, his gaze drawn to the sizeable swath of smooth skin that was exposed to the icy bite of the snow. His frown deepened as he took note of the odd way that her clothes sat around her exposed abdomen. The girl was half laid on her side, but the front of her shirt was bunched and twisted together, like it had been gathered and shoved out of the way.

His eyes lowered a fraction to the front of the girl’s pants. At first glance, all seemend normal, her trousers fitted at her hips, but that was precisely what caught his eye. The waistband on the girl’s pants slotted across her lower hips, not higher up on her waist as it should have been. One side was noticeably lower than the other, almost as though they’d nearly been tugged off.

Almost as if-

Sanemi felt the hairs on his body rise. Looking over the girl once more, he noted the suspicious lack of claw marks and bite marks to her body; the way that she seemed intact, compared to the bodies of her friends and family scattered in pieces around her.

And her blood — her blood appeared more fresh than what was caked in the snow around them, as though she’d been attacked right before the Corps arrived at the manor’s gate.

“Rengoku,” Sanemi said sharply, and the Flame Hashira was back at his side in an instant. Sanemi jutted his chin toward the girl’s body and Rengoku followed his gaze. He could see the gears turning in his comrade’s head, the owlish Slayer steadily taking note of the odd skew of her clothes and her lack of demon-like injuries.

“How many demons do you know that try to-,” Sanemi ground his teeth at the word that came to mind, his blood boiling hot. “Have their way with victims before eating them?”

“Not many,” Rengoku conceded darkly, a similar anger simmering in his eyes. “Though not unheard of. It is… rare. Most can’t resist their hunger.”

He fell silent for a moment, contemplating.

“Didn’t you say the house had looked ransacked?” Sanemi turned his gaze away from the girl and towards the broken doors of the manor.

Rengoku’s eyes widened. “Yes. As if someone came in and grabbed anything they could.”

Sanemi nodded. “Bandits. Probably heard about the attack and got excited to loot. Found a body that wasn’t completely torn apart by demons and tried to take advantage.”

Rather than bile, Sanemi felt anger, hot and lethal, threatening to spill out of him.

If he found them, they would receive no mercy, human or not.

Rengoku exhaled sharply through his nose, a weariness clouding over his features. “Though I don’t suppose we can really know for sure. There isn’t enough left of anyone else to compare.”

Rengoku clasped his hands in front of himself, and he closed his eyes, offering a small prayer for the girl. “Whatever happened to her, she’s gone now. Let us ensure she can rest.”

He turned to head back to where the Kakushi had begun digging graves for the deceased, leaving Sanemi alone once more.

He’d stared the spot where the girl’s body had lain long after a pair of Kakushi gently removed her to ready her for her burial, watching with hollow eyes and a hollow heart as the one of them — a female — tenderly brushed the girl’s hair from her face and straightened her haori. They’d crossed her arms over her middle and gingerly carried her to join the remains of her family.

Hers was the last of the graves to be prepared. The Kakushi were just beginning to pack the mud and snow over her body when one of them collapsed from exhaustion. The group resolved to take a small water break before finishing, and neither Shinazugawa nor Rengoku had the desire to object.

After all, digging nearly twenty graves was no easy task.

Both Hashira assisted with the effort, and their combined strength and stamina had streamlined the task considerably. While the Kakushi rested, Rengoku departed for the front gates to update Uzui and Iguro, who’d been dealing with the wreckage within the village, assisted by reinforcements of both Kakushi and lower rank slayers called in to assist with the clean up and burial.

In total, over two hundred graves were dug, and not a single survivor had been found.

It was a heavy day — perhaps one of the darkest in the Corp’s history, and its crowning poisoned jewel was the eradication of one of the oldest breathing styles.The news that there was one less defense against the demons was not a welcome one.

Sanemi had gone to the other side of the courtyard, away from the voices and graves and rising stink of death. Out of sight from any prying eyes, he found a tree and shoved his fist through it, clear to the other side. Splinters of bark exploded around his arm and bit into the skin around his knuckles and palm, but Sanemi could not find it in himself to care; he sought only to break through the silent numbness threatening to consume him.

Because he’d taken refuge on the other side of the courtyard, away from the new burial site, Sanemi did not see the hand and arm that shoved through the pile of earth resting atop the last grave. He did not see clawed fingers sinking into the mud and snow, desperately seeking purchase as the body attached to the arm hauled itself — herself — from beneath the earth, the remnants of her grave skittering to the side as she heaved her body out.

Sanemi did hear the terrified shriek of the Kakushi, and immediately he drew his sword. In the distance, he could hear Rengoku roaring orders at the terrified attendants, though he could not discern the specifics.

The Wind Pillar came into view of the gravesite right as the girl spilled out from the hole in the ground, using her bare hands to pull herself forward as the rest of her body remained limp.

Sanemi Shinazugawa was not a pious man; in fact, he considered himself rather skeptical of the idea of faith. If there were truly any gods out there, then Sanemi wanted nothing to do with them. They chose to let chaos and devastation run rampant. They chose to let demons exists.

But hell apparently had frozen over, and Sanemi found himself offering a prayer for the girl’s forgiveness as he prepared to behead her demonized form. He hoped she would understand; after all, she’d joined the Corps intending to rid of the world of the very thing she’d now become.

It was what he hoped one his his fellow Hashira would do for him, if he ever found himself in that situation.

As the Swordsman cocked his blade, ready to strike the crawling demon from behind, Rengoku cried out. “Shinazugawa, NO!”

Sanemi stuttered, his arm in mid-swing as he neared the demon’s neck. A flash of violet and white shot towards him, and a piercing shriek of metal tore through the sky as Uzui’s blade parried his, the force of the clash knocking him out of the air. A frustrated grunt echoed from his chest, and with great effort, Sanemi twisted mid-air to avoid falling flat on his ass, just barely managing to land swiftly on the balls of his feet.

“What the fuck,-“ His vicious snarl faltered at the expression on the Flame Hashira’s face, frozen and gaping. In that moment, Sanemi’s ears picked up on the faint thumping of a heart beating rapidly and unevenly below him. His nose suddenly burned with the strong scent of iron. The stench of blood so metallic that it could not have been anything but fresh.

Ears ringing, the Wind Pillar shoved past his stupefied comrades. Only when he was face to face with her did Sanemi finally understand why the Flame Pillar had been so desperate to stop his sword from hitting its mark.

The three Hashira were not looking at a newly turned and bloodthirsty demon. Instead, dragging her way across the bloodstained, muddied snow, was the Lunar Heir, deathly pale and trembling..

The girl whose death they feared doomed the Lunar Breathing House had clawed her way out from her grave with nothing but her hands and sheer will. She’d not been dead, after all.

Slowly, so slowly, her eyes lifted to glare up at the one standing directly before her. Though she strained to raise her head more than half an inch, her silver eyes met Sanemi’s lavender gaze, and a violent chill shot up his spine as he beheld what simmered within them.

Defiance.

Pain.

Rage. So, so much rage, relentless and raw. And so very human.

She reached another quivering hand out before her to further drag herself away from her tomb. A thin sheen of sweat coated her pallid skin, and fresh crimson began to seep into the snow beneath her.

Sanemi’s eyes flit to the stain on her back, where fresh blood oozed from the deep wound.

She was panting, clearly fighting every urge in her body to give in, to let death beckon her back into its sweet embrace.

“I-I’m not dead!” She grit out in between shallow, uneven breaths, her jaw clenched tightly enough to crack her teeth.

The three Hashira remained dumb and silent for half a heartbeat before-

“What are you all standing there for?” Uzui bellowed. “Help her!”

The Kakushi sputtered into action, several of them crouching down around the girl to aid her.

“Don’t touch me!” She screamed, eyes screwed shut and her head bowed defensively over her hands as she clenched her fists into the earth. The Kakushi fell back, looking anxiously to the Pillars to await further orders, but even they were at a loss. After several, harsh breaths through her nose, the Lunar Heir turned her face up, her gaze clashing with Sanemi’s once more.

He recognized the fear in her eyes, visceral and deep. Whatever she’d experienced over the last few hours had overtaken all her senses. She had no logic, no ability to rationalize that she was among other humans, among comrades.

Instead, all that drove her now was the primal instinct to survive.

And to her, they were another threat.

She continued to try and crawl away from them, but her movements grew even shakier, more unstable, as the blood loss combined with her physical exhaustion. Rengoku caught his comrades’ eyes, waiting to confirm their next move.

A quick shared nod sent Sanemi stepping quietly into her blindspot. Swiftly, the Wind Pillar struck the pressure point on the back of the woman’s neck with his hand, and she crumpled against the ground, unconscious and still. Gingerly, Sanemi lifted her over his shoulder, mindful of the open wound on her back.

Once she was secured, the Hashira and their Kakushi began their frantic sprint toward the Butterfly Mansion.

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#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #sanemi shinazugawa #kny #kny x reader #kny fanfic #kny sanemi #sanemi x reader #kn y smut #demon slayer smut #shinazugawa sanemi #demon slayer fic #demon slayer fanfic

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priceyprice · 2 months

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Simon is not a believer.

He doesn't believe in things like the earth is flat, aliens are green with antlers, superstitions, and other things. He doesn't believe in angels, demons, myths like greek mythology or spirits —instead of ghosts, he believes that spirits are a form of energy and not just a white silhouette of a person—, he's not of a much believer of anything. He hardly has emotions, years of shutting down everything he felt since all his trajectory and his dark past, so there's no way he believes in something.

Oh, that's until he saw her.

The moment he saw her, the thought of not believing in angels was vanished like the thin smoke of a cigarette.

She was standing in front of him, introducing herself like the new member of the team with her sweet voice that sounded like honey dripping from her soft lips. Her face was soft and delicate, something he had never seen before. When she extended her hand for a handshake, the soft texture of her almost melted him on the spot. How can she be a sergeant with that delicate face? How can she kill on the battlefield with those soft hands?

She was a true angel.

A few weeks later, when they were on a mission, Simon realized how much he underestimated her.

She could kill like a demon.

She could kill anyone in matter of seconds. There was no remorse or sympathy behind those pretty eyes the second she stepped into battleground.

Now, Simon believes in angels and demons.

Almost a year later, when Simon finally was in a relationship with her, he discovered other beliefs.

His room was filled with soft moans, whimpers, and the sound of the bed creaking. His hands were on her waist as hers were on his broad shoulders. He was sitting on the edge of the bed while she was on top of him riding him like her life depended on it.

Their kisses were messy and sloppy, teeth clashing and tongues fighting for dominance, not caring of anyone who would pass in front of the room, abusing of his power as they know no one will snitch on the lieutenant.

Her hands roamed down to his chest, taking him by surprise when she pushed him down so he was lying completely on his bed. His eyes found hers, confused about why she used all that force on him, thinking maybe she didn't wanna do it anymore.

Before he could process what was happening again, she started to ride him again faster. A low growl formed on her throat.

Simon hissed and closed his eyes for a second. "Fuck... you're too fast."

"I don't care." She answered, almost sounding like a whimper.

His hands flew to her hips, and he opened his eyes, only to found the most perfect view he could ever had.

Her hair was disheveled, his impatient hands taking the blame for all her strands in different directions. Her expression was contorted to one of pure ecstasy and a few rebel strands of hair and droplets of sweat adorning her forehead. Her skin was glowing like the morning sun rising up behind the mountains. Her hips moved like the waves on a night with a full moon. Her soft skin against his was like the clouds adorning the very blue sky.

That's when Simon came to the realization that he believed in something more.

In goddesses.

She looked like a total goddess trying to search for her release, panting and sweating, up and down, using him for reaching that state of pure bliss.

When they finished, they lay down on his bed, hugging each other without saying anything. Skin red and sweaty, covers dirty and wrinkled, room smelling like sex and their scents. They didn't care as long as they were embracing each other and forgetting about the world after his room door.

At that moment, Simon started to believe in something else.

Heaven.

As much as he wanted to avoid the bitter events, he couldn't simply do it. One day, on a mission trying to find a gang leader and a human trafficker, they kidnapped his lover. Leaving no trace behind to have a clue and save her.

The way his heart fell from his chest was worse than any other things he had experienced in life. Those gang members took away his reason to live, his reason to breathe, his reason to love.

Simon discovered another belief that day.

Hell.

And he will bring hell to every person who touched even a single strand of hair from his lover.

He will bring the devil himself just to save her.

[Part 1 here]

[Part 3 here]

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#ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost #ghost cod #cod mw2 #task force 141 #141 x reader #cod 141

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natalievoncatte · 8 months

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“What I did wasn’t personal,” Lena said.

Supergirl had already turned to face her. There were words formed on her lips, but Alex struck first, bringing her viper wit where it wasn’t needed or welcome.

“You had a stash of ‘Kills Kryptonians’. It’s personal,” said Alex.

Lena ignored her, looking directly at Supergirl.

“You know I’d never use it that way.”

“You kept secrets,” said Supergirl. “Secrets change things. I don’t like secrets.”

“Oh really,” Lena spat, knowing she’d regret what came next. “You don’t like secrets. Okay. What’s your real name?”

Alex flinched. Supergirl stared her down. Even in this miserable place, she was inhumanly beautiful, even if Lena was a little resentful that she’d been bitching about walking fifty yards a few moments ago, and making light of exercise, when she had the audacity to look like that.

The pause grew heavy. Something seemed to turn behind Supergirl’s eyes, like she was working something out. Her expression softened lightly.

“Why didn’t you come to me about Sam? I thought we trusted each other.”

“How can I trust you?” Lena said. “You still hold me at arm’s length, won’t let me in, only look for my help when it’s convenient for you. Maybe I should have sought your help, but it isn’t like I have you on speed dial, is it? What was I supposed to do, toss myself off a balcony and hope you were having coffee with Kara Danvers again?”

Supergirl flinched. Looking at Lena intently, she stepped closer, and Alex grew visibly nervous.

“Supergirl…” she said.

“You want to know my real name?”

“Yes,” Lena said, her voice suddenly unsteady, her palms breaking out in a sweat despite the cool, stale air. She stood her ground before a being that could level a mountain with a look and held her gaze.

“Kryptonian names are patronymics, sort of. A man’s name is his own and that of his family. So, for example, my cousin’s name is Kal-El. His father was Jor-El.”

“I knew that already,” said Lena. “Your cousin shared that an interview with Lois Lane.”

“He can share his because he has a name that was given to him by his adoptive family,” said Supergirl, her voice softening as she took another step closer. “I still use my Kryptonian first name.”

Something about that itched at Lena’s brain, but she wasn’t sure what.

“Supergirl,” Alex hissed. “You can’t… we can’t…”

Supergirl threw her a glance. “What? Trust her?” She looked at Lena. “My father was Joe-El’s brother, Zor-El. My mother’s name was Alura In-Ze.”

Lena licked her lips.

“They gave me the name Kara,” said Kara Zor-El. “On Earth, I accepted the surname of the family that took me in to raise me when my cousin gave me up to them. My full name is Kara Zor-El Danvers.”

Lena stumbled a step back, her mouth falling open comically. It felt like the ground was bursting open and swallowing her up, her stomach dropping through her knees.

No. No, no, no, no. It couldn’t be.

“Look at me, Lena.”

Lena looked away from her.”

“Look at me.”

Lena looked.

Lena saw.

Her hair was down, but Lena knew those honeyed curls. Supergirl carried herself differently- her shoulders were proud where Kara tended to hunch down, make herself small, as if to pass through the world without touching it.

Lena hadn’t really looked before. Not like this. She’d studied Kara, maybe even mooned over Kara a little until she seemed to confirm she was straight by dating that alien jackass. She knew every part of her face from her soft lips to her feel blue eyes to that funny little scar right over her eye.

How had she not seen?

“Fucking hell, Kara!” Alex snapped.

Lena’s lip trembled. She clenched her fists to keep her hands steady, knowing they were shaking.

“You tricked me,” Lena hissed, “so many times, so many ways, running off and changing into that suit when I thought you were both people. The super-speed, right?”

“I’m sorry,” said Kara, her voice soft. “Let’s just…”

“I wasn’t finished,” said Lena. “You… you told me you were having coffee with Kara, but you are Kara. Kara… you caught me when they threw me off the balcony. You risked being killed by a kryptonite explosion when Metallo went critical. You… you were… Jesus Christ, the plane, the chemicals, that was you?”

Kara’s eyes grew wider with every syllable and even in the gloom, Lena could swear she saw tears welling up within them.

“She’s risked her life for you over and over and over,” Alex said, quietly. “Her faith in you has only wavered the once. She’s always defended you and insisted on your innocence even when I was ready to throw you in a cell,” said Alex. “She defended you from the first. Shit, she defended you from Superman.”

Lena looked from one to the other, staring at them both in turn, trying to keep her wobbly legs from completely collapsing under her.

“I owe you an apology,” said Kara, raising her gaze to meet Lena’s.

“Can you two do this later?” said Alex. “We’re on a mission, here.”

Lena swallowed, hard.

“Yeah. Let’s go find Sam.”

They did find Sam, eventually, but the plan went sideways. After they were thrust back into their bodies, Supergirl -Kara- curtly told her to help Brainy while she and Alex rushed off.

So Lena helped brainy, until it was time for her to leave. Eventually, she made her way back to her penthouse, and to a glass of single malt, neat. She savored its subtleties as she stared out at the stars.

She knew this would happen sooner or later, so she wasn’t surprised when Kara touched down on the balcony, looking utterly stunning and brave and dashing in her fancy suit. She motioned to knock at the glass.

“It’s not locked.”

“Hi,” said Kara, stepping inside.

Lena looked up. “I can’t believe I didn’t see. You’re just… you, in a different outfit.”

That wasn’t exactly true, Lena knew. As she walked into Lena’s living room, Kara had neither the mousy, retiring way of Kara Danvers nor the brash swagger of Supergirl. It was like she was seeing a third person, one who’d been fully revealed for the first time.

“I’ve been going back and forth in my mind, trying to decide what parts of our friendship were real.”

“All of it,” Kara said.

“If my brother were here, he’d say that you befriended me to spy on me and use my resources and genius for your own ends.”

“That’s not true.”

Lena took a sip, and breathed in through her parted lips after swallowing to savor it.

“I know. He said the same thing about Jack, actually. Lex always tries to convince me that anyone else in my life is just after my name or money or body.”

Kara said nothing. Lena looked up.

“Just because he’s a madman who wants to gaslight me into being a supervillain doesn’t mean he’s always wrong. Does it?”

Kara swallowed, hard.

“You’ve been very insistent on being my friend,” said Lena. “You practically barged into my life and broke down all my barriers with your earnest kindness, but you were keeping yourself behind another one.”

“The first time I ever saw you, I knew in my heart that you were nothing like him,” said Kara. “I remember every detail.”

“In my office, with Kent.”

“No. In the helicopter. That was the first time I saw you.”

Lena swirled the dregs in her glass. “Oh. Right.”

“I just had to know you. You were compelling, and the way you treated me in your office that day was a huge part of that. You seemed so… I don’t even know how to describe it. I just knew I had to be close to you.”

A fit of pique moved her arm before she could contain herself, and Lena threw the glass. Kara snatched it from the air and placed it on the table without spilling a drop.

She was closer now, standing within arm’s reach.

“You can’t just say things like that to me,” Lena almost hissed, her voice loosened by the whiskey and the one before and the one before that.

“Why?” said Kara.

Lena looked up, swaying slightly.

“You told me your name.”

“I should have sooner. We could have worked together. We could have done a lot of things.”

“Fuck,” Lena snapped. “You’re doing it again! Knock it off?”

“Knock what off?”

“You goddamn well what,” said Lena. “Or maybe you really don’t.”

“I’m sorry,” said Kara. “I just don’t understand. Can you… do you want to tell me what you mean?”

“I… sit down.”

Kara swept her cape aside and sat primly in a side chair, folding her hands in her lap, worrying at the back of her thumb with her other thumb. God, she even had Kara’s mannerisms.”

“I’m gay,” said Lena.

Kara swallowed. “But… you were with Jack… and James… and you really seem to like the letter J,” Kara said, lamely.

“It’s called bisexuality, Kara. It’s a thing.”

“Oh, I um, I don’t really get ‘sexualities.’ On Krypton, we didn’t have sexual preferences. We didn’t choose our partners at all, everything was arranged.”

“That sounds awful,” said Lena.

Kara looked away. “It was our way and it worked. We had stable families, and most people had a kind of love. My parents loved each other.”

Lena sighed. “I wish I could say that. One of my parents didn’t love anyone but himself. Your sister is gay, Kara. How can you not understand it?”

“I understand that. I just find the whole thing confusing, and overwhelming. I keep looking for this spark that everyone talks about, and these ‘gut feelings’, but every time I think I’ve had it, it wasn’t right.”

“It seemed right with Mon-El. Oh. Oh Jesus. You banished your own boyfriend from Earth.”

Kara shook her head. “I know it did. I thought it did. I just never… it was the idea of him. I was checking a box. I was with him to have a boyfriend, not to have him. We’re really different people.”

“Why are we talking about this again?” said Lena.

Kara suddenly looked nervous, and thus even more like herself.

“I don’t know. It just seems to have happened. Kind of like our whole friendship. I never made a plan to be your friend. I never had an agenda. I just needed you in my life without knowing why. You just bring me joy.”

Lena wanted to laugh. She wanted to cry, she wanted to scream.

You big indestructible goof, that is the spark!

“I should have told you about me after Medusa. I should have trusted you then, but Alex talked me out of it. I didn’t push past when it counted. I know you doubt how much you mean to me now, and I’m so sorry I did that.”

“I’d never hurt you, ever,” said Lena. “Even if you weren’t Kara. But I could never hurt her. You.”

“I know.

“For what it’s worth,” said Lena. “I felt it too. That pull, that need to know you. That’s why I allowed you to get close to me instead of being bundled off by my security. I felt it from the first, that day you came to my office. I might have felt it a little during the helicopter crash, too.”

Kara nodded.

“I feel like there’s something we’re both not saying.”

Lena licked her lips.

“I have to stop the worldkillers. I have to save Sam. I have to fix it all. I just needed to talk to you first. See you first, see you again, just the two of us.”

Lena nodded, swallowing.

“I guess I should go.”

Lena wanted to tell her not to. To ask her to spend the night, change out of that ridiculous suit, to just be Kara and stay with her, but it dawned on her now that it could never be quite like that again. Kara was Supergirl and Supergirl had to be shared with the world.

“I want to help. I’ll come to the DEO.”

“Okay,” said Kara. “I’ll see you there.”

She stood up and walked to the balcony, pausing before she opened the door. She didn’t turn when she spoke, as if she was afraid to face Lena, to face the answer.

“Do you think, when this is over, we can try it again? Try to fix it?”

“Is that something you want?” Said Lena.

“That pull is still there.”

“I know,” said Lena. “I feel it too.”

Kara’s shoulders rose and fell, as if she’d just rolled a great burden from her back.

“Okay,” she said. “Okay. I’ll see you back at the DEO. Goodnight, Lena.”

“Goodnight, Kara.”

She slid the balcony door open and stepped out, pausing for just the briefest second before lifting off, sending a gentle gust of chilly night air rolling into Lena’s penthouse.

Lena let the breeze flow in for a while before she stood up and went to the door, meaning to close it. Instead, she stepped outside, leaning on the railing as the chill raised gooseflesh on her arms.

“I feel it, too.”

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utterlyotterlyx · 2 months

Text

Skin and Bones

Cassian x Fem!Reader

Summary - Cassian barely knew who you were let alone your affections toward him. Determined to not play the Lord of Bloodshed's puppy, you kept quiet, silently waiting for the Mother to give you your chance. But, one Starfall, everything changes.

Warnings - pining, fluff, alcohol use, swearing

Based of this ask

The teasing had become a common occurrence.

It wasn't often that you left the confinements of The Library, but when you did, for whatever reason that would be, you'd always find yourself in the same place as the Lord of Bloodshed, and his mere presence encapsulated your attention enough to shush to to complete silence.

Cassian was a god-like specimen, the curves of his taut, trained muscle contorting with each movement, his hair pulled back into a well-maintained bun with slices falling over his face that faded down the sides to that impeccable beard ; he was ruggedly handsome, rough-hewn with sun-kissed golden skin, and brown-green eyes that made you weak whenever they passed over you.

He had only spoken to you twice, once when he asked if you were alright after you had dropped a stack of books upon seeing him, little did he know that you weren't just some clumsy researcher, but that you were awestruck upon seeing that carved from the mountains complexion and those large membranous wings. The other time he had spoken to you was to ask for a book that Amren needed, a request you had quickly granted, your giddiness drifting like ash in the wind when he took the book from your grasp with a small thanks and looked right through you.

Other than those two instances, Cassian hadn't spoken to you, it was like you didn't even exist to him.

You weren't the most ongoing female, you didn't find joy in sauntering about the room and throwing yourself onto any male who deemed you worthy enough. You were reserved. You were quiet to all but the ones who truly knew you well enough to say that you were by far the most complex thing in all of Velaris.

And that was saying something.

"He's never going to notice you when you hole yourself up in the corner like that," Mari drawled, rolling her eyes at you as you had, yet again, found Cassian laughing thunderously across the room and set your sights on him, "Go and talk to him."

Your friends had consistently tried to convince you to talk to him, to try and give you the confidence you needed to walk right up to the Lord of Bloodshed and tell him exactly how you felt.

"How long are you going to look at him until you just do it?" Rita's was teething with thumping music and swirling talk, it was the night of Starfall, and the entire of Velaris had moved from their own private celebrations to dance and drink the night away at the city's favourite bar.

Not taking your eyes off of him as he stood between his brothers, laughing like a giddy child with his white canines shining in the glittering light, you told Sia, "As long as I need to."

Sia scoffed, pushing her moon white hair back over her shoulder and allowing her silver gaze to tear into you, "Not good enough, Y/N."

Humming in agreement, Mari leaned over the white marble table and grasped you chin in her delicate fingers, "You look insane tonight. Don't waste it by sitting in that corner. Even the High Lady doesn't outshine you in that dress," Mari's dark pools of onyx and blue winked, her voice was as soft as summer rain.

"I'm not going to be a puppy that chases him around-"

"It'll happen when it happens and all of that crap," Sia waved her hand, reciting your weekly words, "And looking at him like that every time is doing what exactly?" Heat crept up your cheeks and you scowled, "Come on, we're dancing," Sia sank her drink, the delightfully tropical concoction that was once in her glass dissipating, "I'm not asking."

Mari was right. You did look incredible.

Red fabric doused in diamonds clung to every curve and shimmered in the faelight with every movement you took, an off-the-shoulder neckline which highlighted the hollowness of your collarbones, a high slit that reached your right thigh, matching lace gloves that kissed your elbows. Absolute perfection.

With a sigh, you slid your covered hand into Sia's who wasted no time in hauling you up and dragging you through a sea of intoxicated bodies to the centre of the dancefloor, just in case you changed your mind. Caging in the little mouse with no means of escape.

They were lucky to have been able to convince you to treat yourself for once, to buy a new dress and put makeup on, to give yourself something to look forward to. Sia and Mari knew how lonely The Library could be, though of course knew that you didn't mind one bit, you loved what you did, it had enabled you to travel the world and find things no male ever could. It was always about perspective, you had told them.

Sia placed her hands on your waist, making you sway to the beat of the music with her, your bodies moving like a ripple down the Sidra. Light fell over you, drifting through the crowd who were becoming lost in the thumping melodies, falling victim to the alcohol in their systems. It was Starfall, how couldn't they?

Your friend reached behind you, pulling the pin from your delicately wound updo, allowing your hair to flow down your spine and smiling as you ran your fingers through it, twirling around and feeling every hit of bass reverberate through your body.

Too busy losing yourself in the moment, you didn't feel a certain gaze floating over your figure, drinking in your large smile and giggles as you danced, drinking in the curve of your breasts and hips, "Who are you looking at?" Mor appeared next to him, swaying slightly from the amount of alcohol she had drank, crouching beneath his chin like it would help her focus on who had stolen his attention. "Oh, please tell me you're looking at Y/N."

"Y/N?" Cassian asked, puzzled, he tilted his head to the side, looking at your closer, the pretty eyes and soft features, the pure joy as you jumped to the music with your friend.

"Y/N? Prythian's most accomplished researcher?" Mor barked incredulously, in disbelief that anyone could have the gall to not know who the female was, "She's the most impressive person I've ever met."

"More impressive than me?" Cassian smirked at the golden-haired blonde, it was suggestive, it was teasing, it earnt him a sharp jab to the arm, "Ow," he rubbed over the clothed patch of skin, enjoying the feel of the silk black shirt he had decided to adorn that night.

"Way more impressive than you, Lord of Bloodshed," Mor finished the last of her drink and leaned into him, "I'm surprised you haven't noticed her before, she's always helping Azriel and Amren out with whatever they need."

That's it. Y/N.

Cassian knew who you were. The ditzy researcher that worked within the library in the River House, the one who had gotten that book for him one time, the one who had dropped a stack of tomes on her toes and repressed the squeal until she'd gone red in the face.

But surely that female wasn't you. You looked- you looked so radiant, practically glowing like a star in a sea of darkness, completely different to the grey-blue tunic pants you wore alongside a thick black woven jumper that drowned you.

"That's Y/N?" Cassian asked, shocked, narrowing his eyes on you when Mor nodded, "But, I've barely even noticed her, she's so quiet."

Azriel laughed then, loudly too, one that rumbled through his chest as he clasped Cassian's shoulder, "Y/N is not quiet," he told his brother, looking to you fondly, "She's the loudest thing ever actually, funny too."

"I've never heard her. I've barely noticed her existence."

Mor reached a finger out and flicked the pendent dangling from his neck, "Because she's not loud when you're around, silly."

A beat passed and Azriel let out a small, knowing, "Oh," like a lightbulb had flashed on in his brain, the penny dropping in his mind, and a shit-eating grin pulling at the corners of his lips.

"What?" Cassian asked, his gaze flickering between Azriel and Mor who were silently communicating with their eyes.

Mor smiled, "I think you should go and talk to her, say hi, happy starfall and all of that stuff," Mor gave him little option, pushing him from their ledge and onto the dancefloor.

Cassian rolled his shoulders and turned to Mor and Azriel with a scowl, they had taken a step closer to one another, whispering between themselves.

She was right though, he should be polite and wish you a happy starfall. Adjusting the open collar of his silk shirt, he moved through the crowd that parted like the Sidra before him until he saw a straight line guiding him to you.

Your friend saw him coming and dipped her head to him before taking a step back, smirking to herself at your complete unawareness of the situation as you twirled back to where you thought she was, only to meet a wall of rock hard muscle and wings that cast a shadow over you.

Dark amber, smoke, and cloves stung their way down your nose and into your lungs, it was the deepest breath you had ever taken. Those brown-green eyes that stalked your dreams were now peering down on you with splendid wonder, his entire figure curled around you, and you felt your heart beating a mile a minute.

"Hi," his voice was low and rough, his breath smelt like aged whisky, and his entire body heat made you feel like your skin was on fire, "Y/N, right?"

It took you a moment to respond, "Yeah," you replied, gravity shifting around you and the music dimming into a hum in your ears.

Cassian grinned, "I'm Cassian."

"I know who you are," the movement of your lips had him entranced, like they were moving in slow motion, he watched them peel from one another, he watched the movement of your tongue with every sweet syllable that moved through them.

It wasn't often that Cassian found himself speechless, it wasn't often that he stood before such an accomplished female and knew little to nothing about her, "Mor mentioned that you're a researcher, that you help Amren and Azriel sometimes. How come I know nothing about you?"

His eyes were hypnotising, "You've never looked long enough."

Cassian smiled, eyes glistening with approval as he took a step forward, laying a hand on you waist and sending an electrifying current over every inch of your skin, "Maybe I should."

You hummed, "Maybe it's time you did," you were doing everything you could to keep your soul from trembling, to keep your voice calm and stoic, to throw that confident façade up like a shield.

His finger, as rough and calloused as you had dreamed it would be, took a strand of hair and pushed it over your shoulder, his fingers grazing your collarbone on their retreat. "Dance with me?"

You spent the remainder of the night in his arms, dancing with him to the music, allowing his large hands to roam your body and ask questions about you that no one had ever bothered to.

It happened to be the most magical Starfall that either of you had ever celebrated.

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httpiastri · 3 months

Text

snowy mountains & hot baths – op81

you, oscar, and an empty spa can only lead to one thing.

genre: very short smut 😶

pairing: oscar piastri x female reader

warnings: uhhh public sex.... unprotected sex, wrap it before you tap it yall!!

author's note: happy valentines day :) wish i had oscar here to celebrate with me... anyway. idk about this one guys 🫠🫠 started out alright but then i hated half of it so i deleted it and rewrote it but it just got worse. and i know that if i don't just post it rn, i will likely procrastinate and never end up posting it at all. yay. hope u enjoy anyway! i also have another oscar fic done that's at least a bit better than this lol.

f1 masterlist

18+ content below, minors do not interact!

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

a low groan leaves oscar's lips when he dips his feet in the warm water. he instantly turns around, eyes finding you standing by the door you've just walked through to get to this outdoor area of the spa. he holds his hand out towards you, beckoning for you to step closer.

"it feels so good," he promises, gaze following your every move as you let your robe slide down your arms. his eyes widen when you reveal your newly bought bikini – papaya orange, of course – and a shudder passes through his body at the sight of the tiny material trying it's best to cover you up.

he thanks all the gods he can think of that there's no one else around.

goosebumps grow across your skin now that you're exposed to the sub-zero temperatures, toes curling in the short layer of snow on the deck. you stroll over to him, making sure to let your hips sway a little extra with every step because you know he's watching and you know what he's thinking. the sight of him gulping as his eyes wander up and down your body can only mean one thing.

taking his hand in yours, you let him pull you into the water with him, letting out a content sound when the water envelops your legs and brings the temperature of your body up again. oscar gives your hand a squeeze and leans back, his back hitting the water as he submerged into it. you dive in right after him, making a few strokes beneath the surface before coming up for air again. your hands come up to wipe away the water from your face, before brushing over your hair and tying it up in a messy bun on top of your head.

"this is just what i needed," your boyfriend says, drawing out an agreeing hum from you. it's been a long day – a long week, really – filled to the brim with skiing, hot chocolate drinking, skiing, cable car-rides, and then more skiing. oscar doesn't usually get a lot of time off work, and when he does, he wants to make the most of it. and as his partner, he thinks you should be doing the same, and that's why he's woken you up in the early hours every morning this last week, practically bouncing from how much he aches to go out in the swiss alps yet again.

the hot tub is big enough to swim around in, but oscar makes his way to the side and sits down on the built-in seat, arms stretching out and resting on the edge of the pool. you swim over to him, easily slipping onto his lap and letting your hands rest on his shoulders. oscar tenses up when you sit on him, and you're not surprised by the length already poking up at you – he's just a man, after all – but you decide not to do anything to acknowledge it just yet.

"it's really beautiful here, don't you think?" you ask, looking to your side. the sun has only just set, so the little village isn't completely dark yet. the moon above your heads casts a soft hue over the mountains you've spent all week conquering, stars twinkling among the tops.

"not as beautiful as you, though." there's barely any lightning out here other than the little candles scattered across the floor, but you see the fire in oscar's gaze clearly when you look back at him. he's staring at you like you're the most perfect work of art, the most beautiful thing to ever exist – and your expression matches his, because he truly is your favorite thing to look at in the world. your heart flutters at the contrast between how cute he looks with a few locks of his long fringe curling along his forehead, and how incredibly sexy his body looks with the little droplets of water decorating his muscular chest. he's just stunning.

"you really did a great job with planning and booking all of this, you know," you start. "i may have complained quite a bit when you dragged me out of bed at six am, but... it's all been perfect."

your hands find the space just below his jaw, and it takes all of your strength not to blatantly stare at his thick neck when you feel the muscles under your touch.

"well, perfect except for the fact that my legs are so sore right now."

oscar chuckles at this confession, hands leaving the edge of the pool and dipping into the water instead. "let me help you out with that, then..."

a jolt of electricity shoots down your spine when his palms meet your bare thighs, fingers pressing into the skin and stroking you softly. your eyes flutter closed, loving every second of his massage and growing hotter when his hands make their way further and further up. it doesn't take long before oscar can't hold back anymore, reaching up to press his lips against yours.

you sigh into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling yourself further towards him, your crotch brushing against his as a result. the moan he lets out is so hot that you instinctively begin grinding down against him, wanting to hear more.

oscar gets the hint, but finds himself reaching for your shoulders, holding you back as he leans out of the kiss. your lips chase after him, a frown taking over your face when he doesn't give in. you open your eyes to look at him.

"are you sure... that you want to..." oscar's voice is low but genuine; he knows you aren't a fan of exhibitionism, and that these situations usually only make you uncomfortable.

but the look in your eyes is impossible to misinterpret. "there's no one around..."

he looks around the area once more just to make sure. choosing to go to the spa at 8pm, the exact time when the restaurant at the hotel was the most crowded, was oscar's best idea yet.

he doesn't say anything else. he just grabs the back of your neck, pushing you down to his lips yet again. it's more rushed now, messy kisses pressed against your lips and his tongue swiping across your bottom lip hastily. his other hand caresses all the way down your back, gives your butt a quick squeeze, and then moves to your front instead. his fingers trace the edge of your bikini before dipping inside of it, finding your clit with ease.

your upper body is completely leaning onto him by now, little sounds slipping past your lips as he starts drawing circles onto your already sensitive bud. in no time, he's slipped past your clit, one finger sliding into your core and pumping you a couple of times before being joined by another finger. you can't help but clench around him, exhaling into the kiss.

"please, oscar..." you whine against his lips, and oscar nods, pulling out of you and breaking the kiss. he holds your hips away a little to make space for his hand undoing the knot that holds up his swim trunks, before pulling his dick out of them. he lifts you up, fingers pushing your bikini bottoms to the side but pausing when his tip meets your core. he waits for your nod of consent before finally entering you.

the water helps him glide into you, a throaty moan rumbling from his throat when he bottoms you out. he doesn't give you even a second to adjust, hands on your hips pulling you up before sinking you onto him again.

"fuck," he lets out, throwing his head back when you start to roll your hips against his. "you feel so good..."

you lean forward, forehead resting on the bend of his neck as you bounce up and down on him. your hands move to the back of his head, fingers getting lost in his locks, and it doesn't take long before your movements get sloppier. you gasp when oscar begins thrusting up into you, meeting your downward movements in a steady rhythm.

his grip on your hips grows firmer, rough fingers pressing into your skin and surely leaving marks for tomorrow. he's getting closer, too – you can tell by the string of moans he's letting out in between a bunch of swearwords – and you use your last bit of energy to pick up your pace and help him out. your walls contract around him when you come, and you feel him reach his own high not long after, twitching and shooting into you as you ride out your orgasms.

his hands are more gentle now, brushing up and down your back and following the bumps of your spine. when you finally gain the energy to speak, your words vibrate against his skin. "well, we're never coming back to this spa again." you lean back slightly, looking up at him for the first time in a while. "or the town, for that matter."

his blissed-out eyes meet yours, soft and glossy as he raises his eyebrows. "why's that?"

his flushed cheeks make him look so innocent, but his heaving chest tells another story. "did you not see the cameras?" you question.

"oh, you think we're the first ones to do this here?" you gasp at his wording, splashing some water his way. he laughs. "what, do you really? i reckon this happens here at least once every day. maybe even more."

"oscar!"

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