#something that is so me (inconsistent coloring) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

flokali · 2 months

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— Concept: Student Yandere and Professor Darling

Warning: GN! Reader, blackmail, n/on-con, d/ub-con, age gap, student-teacher relationship, push-over reader, unfair ending, n/oncon recording, uhh ask to tag!

A/N: just a concept that plagued me for a while... hhhhhhh;; i'm so normal ab this

Any dynamics that involve an authority figure and a subordinate, no matter how innocent they may initially seem, are doomed from the start for either or both of the parties involved.

There’s an underlying power imbalance, someone holds the authority over the other, there is no nice way to put it, unfortunately.

Most of the time, in fics, I see a lot of Yan professors creeping on their students, but the thought of a student Yan harassing their beloved professor has been plaguing my mind.

I see the relationship as one that starts sweetly, you’ve noticed a certain student in your course that’s been falling behind, making mistakes that should have long been addressed, their work is always late or partially done and you’re growing slightly annoyed at them for wasting your time and misusing theirs as well, you’d offered them private tutoring when you found out it seemed to be only your course where they were turning in these less than acceptable projects.

They reject, seemingly embarrassed that you’d even offered such a proposal. You try to calm their nerves down, you’re pretty young yourself, you only graduated a few years ago and you won’t charge them, it won't be a daily thing but they can pop in every once in a while at your office so you can review and work on assignments and such. The hesitant look on their face seems to slowly be melting off.

You continue insisting, you lay out the facts as they are; they’re a brilliant student who has been passing all other courses and extracurricular activities with flying colors, so why is that your course has become such a challenge to them? You’be seen them work and the way they behave during class, you’ve even noticed how some students go to them to try and clear up any questions and study together with them, rumors about them being easily one of the college’s star students were always going around, so it’s either that they’re making shit up and lying to their peers, which you doubt since you’ve seen their works before and after reaching out to them, or they were purposefully trying to fail your class, maybe they thought it’d be easier and decided to try it and decided from the get go not do their best – after all, it wasn’t as if all of the work they’ve handed is bad, there’s some clear understanding of what they’re doing, it’s just that they seem insistent on missing something, even if it means inconsistencies in their resume of work, the assignments that made up less percentage of the overall grade were done well enough but anything that was important was clearly half-assed. You explain your concern; you’re genuinely worried your class might hold them back from graduating with their peers, if things kept going on like this, they’d fail your class and if they did, they’d have to repeat the semester and risk graduating a year or so later.

It’s then that they pull out a card they’d been holding on to dearly for a situation such as this, a perfectly curated story meant to pull at your heartstrings and lead you into their honey sweet trap;

They start going on about a sob story about their parents’ jobs, how they were struggling financially for a while since their parents cut them partially off for choosing a college out of their town, and how they’re supposed to provide for themselves for things such as food and bills, about how their schedule is always so busy trying to balance college, their friendships, mending their relationship with their parents, and their job on top of all studying they’ve been doing, how your class had unfortunately been the least of their concerns and that they’re immensely sorry to have worried you and that they are willing to do anything to make up for their past grades.

You can empathize with such a dilemma, being fresh out of college yourself, the memories of balancing relationships, work, and academics are still freshly etched into your mind.

They clearly seem burned out and your heart aches seeing a student as promising as themselves dim down so drastically. You’d hate to be one class that impedes them from graduating on time, you don't want to be the lone profesor responsible for slowing down such a valuable asset to society.

You sit them down and try to offer them some advice, you were in a similar situation when you were in college yourself, you try to explain the ways you managed to survive and bypass college, going into detail about your own problems and how you were able to live through it all. They seem visibly more relaxed during the conversation, nodding along and explaining their own feelings and hardships, you both manage to sympathize with each other and come to an arrangement.

It’s completely under the table since you are worried what it might look like, but from now on until the end of this semester you’d use a more relaxed, less strict grading system for them, after all, they did have a legitimate reason for their behavior and they were willing to make up for it. That is, under the condition that they start taking tutoring classes from either yourself or a fellow classmate, they weren’t able to balance the studying schedule necessary so you’d try and manage at least one aspect of it for them to try and make their life a little bit easier.

They agree gladly, but not before asking if you could be the tutor, when you’d questioned their request they explain themselves, seemingly embarrassed for their own reasoning;

“I don’t want it to get out that I’m failing your class, professor…” The smile they wear seems genuine and shy and you nod in understanding, college students are only older teenagers, after all, most of them are still stuck in their high school mentality and you wouldn’t put it past a bunch of immature little shits to try and mess with someone who was struggling.

What you don’t know is that they’ve been planning for something like this to happen from the get go, always going out of their way to purposefully present themselves as a stupid, pathetic and incompetent student that would need their hot professor’s (your) help to pass the course.

During your first couple of sessions they work extra hard to make themselves seem as ditzy and clueless as possible, making as many mistakes and errors as humanly reasonable without getting you too annoyed at them. They even begin to dress in slightly more provocative ways, their speech seems more flirtatious, their touches linger on your shoulders for longer than necessary, but you brush it off, trying to ignore the signs, and think of it as a silly crush, opting to try to focus on helping them get through this semester with either a decent or average grade.

Their grades are getting better but with the current pace, you were afraid it wouldn’t be enough.

So, you ignore the uncomfortable, sinking feeling in your gut and suggest making your tutoring sessions more frequent - instead of once a week maybe twice or thrice if it was really necessary.

You didn’t expect them to suggest going to your place. Originally, you’d suggested either the library or a cafe, but they said they felt too embarrassed and self-conscious at the idea of their peers watching him, they claimed they’d probably make fun of them for needing help for a course they’d been taking for almost a whole semester at that point.

They insist on your place, but you reject the idea, they say it’s either there or at their place because elsewhere you both risk either staff or some of the student body seeing you both together and getting the wrong idea. The conversation goes on for hours until you’re exhausted and give in.

They are a good person, right? Even if the thought of a student knowing where you lived made you uncomfortable, it wasn’t like they’d do anything about it… right?

You try to limit the study space to your living room, the bathroom, and the kitchen every once in a while if you notice the snacks you had brought weren’t enough, but never further than that. Your bedroom and office were completely off limits, you’d made it explicitly clear that if you caught them wandering far you’d have no choice but to kick them out and stop the tutoring, possibly even having to call the campus’ authorities if you felt they were getting too out of line – your reputation be damned.

They also were only allowed to come over during the weekends and on specific weekdays where no one would be able to catch him entering your apartment.

They agree and promise to follow every single one of the rules you’d put in place.

But it doesn’t take long for them to start going back on their word and start “exploring” your living space, it started small – simply walking around your living room, examining framed pictures, looking over books, memorizing the placement of your trinkets and decor, making a mental note of the colors you used in the space, they make sure to remember to try and look up where you got your cushions and everything as well, they start looking into you fridge and pantry to make see what you eat, if there’s any indication of a possible food allergy; it’s all investigative work for your future together. It’s not too long before they’ve memorized your living room and are drawn to the rest of your house. They've gone to your bedroom and studied the space, taking note of the way you made your bed and how many pillows you have, they also have made a list of products you use and like, such as scents and soaps, to make sure your transition to their place is as smooth as possible. Soon, they could very well draw a floor plan of your place and recreate your home in the most basic of softwares.

The only reason you haven’t caught up to them is because they’ve taken to spiking your drinks with sleep medication, strong enough dosages that you’ll be knocked out for a while, but not enough that you’ll realize you were drugged.

It’s during your sleeping state that the next part of their plan starts to take action. They’ll purposefully plant evidence in your home of their presence and snap pictures, suddenly their underwear is in your laundry basket, and why are you wearing their hoodies to sleep, huh? They’re meticulously planned and staged pictures that make it look like you were engaging in a romantic relationship, but it’s not enough — they need more, something more extreme. More incriminating, something that would absolutely destroy your career and reputation if it came out.

What about a picture of them going down on you? Or one with their cum all over your face? Your naked figure cuddling up to their bare chest? Some makeup to look like hickies could look realistic in pictures too, you know. Maybe them on top of you… or you on top of them? Or one where your lips are sucking their fingers like a —! Ah, the thought has them blushing! All of these photos are like their dreams come true! You look like such a perfect spouse, taking their love~ They make sure to clean up the space, but they’re growing bolder and more confident in their work.

They even have videos of themselves jacking off on top of you, but they’re always so good at making it seem like you’re awake and participating in these activities! It really does look like you’re helping them get off with your own mouth.

You’re such a naughty professor seducing your innocent, sweet student like that!

It’s sick, they’re sick and they know it fully well but they don’t care, as long as they don’t get caught – there’s no way in hell they’ll stop.

Their grades begin improving and there’s no longer any fear of them failing your class, in fact you’d go as far to say they’ve easily become one of your best students in terms of grades. Things seem to be looking up and you’re pretty proud of yourself for having had a positive impact on them, which is why you come to the conclusion they won’t be needing your tutoring anymore.

You call them over to your office after classes, making sure to be as nice as possible. At first you were annoyed and put off by them, their initial behavior was unsettling and persistent, but after a couple of months of getting to know them you’ve grown to care for them and genuinely wish them the best, you’d pointed out how teaching them had been a joy and you’d always end the sessions feeling better than before, which is why you’d chosen to end the tutoring. You lay out the facts as they are, their grades have improved and there’s no longer any threat of them failing your class, you’d also be risking people misunderstanding the situation if it went any longer, if word came out you’d been using a different rubric to grade them until recently and that they’d been going over to your place, it would simply look bad for both of you. You’d risk getting sanctioned, possibly even losing your job if things were taken in the wrong way, and they could repeat the semester or even have their work in your class be null and having to take a new course entirely, if not even being kicked out.

There’s a minute of silence between the two of you, the air is thick and you wonder if you should have been softer in your delivery as you watch them process your words.

It takes them a while, you decide to give them the time because you have indeed noticed how they’d seem to grow ever so attached to you and they might take this a bit too personally, but you’re soon starting to grow increasingly uncomfortable as the silence continues.

You’re about to say something again, try to soften the blow with some generic encouragement about how they’ll do well regardless of you being their tutor or not, when you hear them chuckle softly under their breath.

You’re taken aback, your eyes widen in surprise and you unconsciously lean back into your chair, but that seems to have further encouraged their laughter as soon they’re covering their face with the back of their hand as they double over in laughter.

It’s strange but you decide to give them a few seconds to regain their composure, maybe this was a nervous habit? You’d heard of people who’d laugh when anxious, but you’d never seen something so theatrical.

They slowly sit back up, wiping tears from their eyes as a few chuckles escape their smiling lips. They haven’t fully calmed down but seem to be making an effort to continue the conversation nonetheless.

“Ah, professor,” your last name tumbles from their lips in a joyous manner but their eyes look icy as they stare at you, their voice feels more aggressive even if the words came out from a smile, “don’t be so ridiculous, I think things are working pretty well as they are, I have no desire to change our… relationship.”

You’re taken by surprise, their word choice feels odd and purposeful, but you insist regardless.

“There is no relationship between us,” you state, “I am your professor, do you understand? That means that if I say your tutoring is over, it’s over; I have been going easy on you and helping you out but do not misinterpret my intentions, you are my student and that’s where our acquaintanceship ends. If you think you’ll continue needing help, I’m certain our TA will be more than glad to step up and help you out.”

They smile as they take their phone out of their pocket and your stomach drops for a second, wondering what on earth they could have there. They slide it towards you after unlocking it, they’re carefree in their handling of the device and your nerves start to rise, a gut wrenching feeling settles in your stomach, you don’t really understand what you’re seeing at first but once you do you feel your blood run cold.

You don’t even realize they’ve walked behind your chair, too focused on the picture of your naked body cuddling up to their equally nude form. They’re smiling, tenderly caressing your bare shoulders, embracing your body in such a loving manner it looked like you were lovers. When… When did they take this?

Your voice is shaking but they don’t answer you, instead opting to crouch beside you and show you the hundreds of incriminating pictures themselves.

They start telling you a story based on the pictures, the one they seemed to be telling you even if you knew that everything they depicted was fake, about a promiscuous professor that seduced their student, coaxed them into a relationship and took advantage of their position to influence the student into falling in love with them.

You want to tell them it won’t work, threaten to call the dean or the campus police, but they quickly clear out any confusion; “Would anyone believe a student would seduce a teacher and that it’s not the other way around?”

You know exactly what they mean; you’re the professor, you hold the authority. You had never been able to put a stop to it because you had no idea what they were doing but that didn’t matter, it was your word against theirs and they had “evidence”.

They seem proud of themselves too, telling you about all the ways they set up the rooms and photos to make sure they looked as real as possible. They’d taken their clothes and belongings over to your place in secret, made sure to apply makeup in the right places with the correct lighting, it seriously felt like an art they’d perfected.

You ask them what they could possibly want, clearly it couldn’t be only your tutoring if they were going this far. They smile and tell you they simply want a relationship with you, one that goes beyond a professor and a student; from that day onwards they wanted to be your lover.

You want to say no, but they remind you of the position you’re in; “You know, I’ve got these backed up in a bunch of places, it’d be a shame if one leaked, right, professor?”

You feel numb as they lock the door of your office and guide you on top of your desk, you barely even register them going down on you - stripping you naked and giving you oral. From that day onward, you were a prisoner to your own student.

Everyday, they’d act like any other person taking your classes, going to college, making friends, as if when your work day ended they didn’t torment you under the guise of love. Making themselves into your lover without your consent, as if you weren’t their professor, as if they weren’t your student. They celebrate your birthday and make you celebrate theirs, you go on dates outside of town so as to not be caught, there are times you almost forget the perverse nature of your relationship - but it always comes back to haunt you. They always come back to haunt you.

They make sure not to show any of the images to anyone for as long as they’re going to the college. They need to keep an eye on you, make sure your looks and personality don’t charm any other student - they’d hate to get rid of their classmates due to your unknowing seduction. They’re so good at acting like they weren’t bending you over your kitchen counter the minute they followed you home, you’d almost believe they were only your innocent, well meaning student if they didn’t send you videos of you two fucking as extra-curriculum activities.

They also take your courses religiously to make sure to always be in contact with you; you could never escape them, they’ll follow you home and come inside even if you try to shut the door behind you. Whenever you tried changing the lock they'd find a way to break in anyway, on campus they’d sneakily follow you everywhere and harass you. Those who notice, the few that do, think of it as cute, an innocent puppy crush that would fade by next semester.

It’s not until they gets their diploma three years later that they releases a drive full of the videos and pictures, making sure to add dates and location, everything to prove you were fucking a student. You were a whore of a professor seducing their students.

You’re fired immediately and it’s not long until your friends and family cut contact with you for seducing a poor college student and using your power over them as leverage. Nobody wants to hire you, they’d make sure to document every single dirty detail of your relationship so as to ruin your reputation until you’d be forced to turn to the only person who didn’t turn their back on you.

You can only walk into their open arms as they suggest finally moving in together, possibly getting married, and maybe even having a couple of children now that they have graduated and received their degree.

But even through it all, they still have the audacity to call you their beloved “professor”.

Characters: Lisa (GI), Scaramouche (GI), Al-Haitham (GI), Kaeya (GI), Ayato (GI), Jing Yuan (HSR), Luocha (HSR), Aventurine (HSR), Vyn (TOT), Rafayel (L&DS), Ibara (ENSTARS), Eichi (ENSTARS), Yuzuru (ENSTARS), Cater (TWST), Rook (TWST), Kylar (DOL), Whitney (DOL), literally anyone you want really (TT)

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chocobosdungeon2 · 2 years

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I watched Netflix original anime movie Words Bubble Up Like Soda Pop last night and it was.... really okay.

#it felt like a lot of stuff happened that wasnt necessary #or felt like it related to anything else #also maybe i missed something?#what did his mom going back to work have to do with moving?#i didnt get why that was the trigger for anything #okay and the whole scene where she invites him to the festival #I was almost SCREAMING #why would you run around with the super important record like that #it was obvious they were going to have her accidentally break it #but it was so drawn out and annoying #also so many little inconsistencies #the colors of their phone cases kept changing #and other details like that #made me feel like the movie expected me to have the attention span of a goldfish

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swanlakebaby · 9 days

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— dressing room quickie | pjm

prompt: hooking up in the dressing room.

⸝⸝ pairing: richbf!jimin x fem!reader

⸝⸝ warnings: smut, bf jimin, bf material, public sex, bj, creampie, swallowing, kissing, sub gf, dom jimin, quickie

⸝⸝ word count: 2.1k

⸝⸝ note: i didn't mean to be gone for almost a WEEK...i have too many story ideas planned out and couldn't figure out what to start with and ended up not writing at all. i'm trying to post stories every 2-3 days but clearly i'm inconsistent with that ;(

-- ALSO i've been thinking about wanting to start a series of some sort so if you have ideas please send them in the requests. i'll give credit to whoever i choose, dw! requests for other story prompts are open too. thanks for reading!

nsfw, 18+, minors dni

''which one?'' you ask , holding up two skirts in front of of your legs. jimin looks down and thinks for a moment. ''im not sure. you can get both.''

you glance at him. ''i know it's supposed to be a shopping spree but i don't want to get things i don't like just because i can.'' you look back in forth between the two skirts , feeling conflicted. ''i told you i'm paying , it doesn't matter. if it doesn't work out you can return it.''

''i want to be sure.'' you say softly. ''what color suits me? pink or white?'' you look up at him. ''you look good in anything.'' jimin wraps his arms around you. ''that's not a real answer. just help me please.'' jimin smiles and grabs your hand , walking to the back of the store. there , an employee stands , looking down at a table. she looks up at the couple as they approach her.

''hello , looking to try something on?'' she asks. you nod and lift up the two skirts. ''great , come with me.'' she walks down the hallway full of dressing rooms until she finds a vacant room. ''thank you.'' you say with a smile as you walk in. jimin shuts the door behind him as he walks in after you.

''um , excuse you.'' you say , furrowing your eyebrow at him. ''i've seen you naked before , go ahead.'' he sits down on the small bench and relaxes his muscles. ''what a pervert.'' you giggle as jimin reaches forward and playfully smacks your thigh.

you put down the skirts and begin to slip off your shoes and jeans. you grab the white skirt and begin sliding them on. ''what do you think?'' you do a little spin as you show off the skirt. ''mmm.'' jimin mumbles. ''turn again.''

you spin again , this time stepping closer to jimin. ''it looks great. put the other one on.'' he says. you do so, taking off the white skirt and putting it back on its hanger before grabbing the pink one. you put it on , this time standing in front of the mirror. ''i think this one is better.'' you say , analyzing yourself in the mirror. jimin slowly rises and stands behind you.

the warmth of his body heat made you nervous. you always suddenly felt self cautious anytime he was too close to you. ''so?'' you mumble anxiously. jimin places his hands on your sides , looking down at your neck. ''get it.'' he whispers. goosebumps trail down your back as he says this , almost making you shiver.

''weren't there others?'' you ask him. ''i think so. i'll be back.'' jimin steps back and exits the dressing room , heading back into the main part of the store. you take off the skirt and sit on the bench as you wait for jimin to get back.

a few minutes go by and you begin peeking your head out of the dressing room. you see jimin walking back towards you with four different skirts. ''really?'' you say sarcastically as jimin plops the skirts down onto the bench. he sits down beside them and hands you the first one. you take it and begin sliding them on. ''i don't like it.'' you say , tilting your head to the side in the mirror. ''i love florals but the fabric feels too harsh.''

jimin rubs his finger tips onto the fabric. ''i thought so too. next one.'' he grabs the next skirt and hands it to you. ''it's very summerish.'' you say , swinging side to side as the dress carelessly sways with your movements. ''i like it. it would be cute for a picnic date , don't you think?'' you smile down at him as you consider the idea. ''i think so. it looks pretty on you.''

time continues to go by as you try on these skirts. ''are we almost near the end?'' you say , growing impatient. ''yes hold on , here's the last one.'' jimin holds the skirt. you hold out your hand and wait for him to give it to you , but he doesn't. ''come here.'' he says. you step forward. jimin bends over a bit , holding the skirt open for your legs to go through. you hold onto his shoulders and slowly lift your legs one by one. jimin pulls the skirt up over you. ''i love it.'' he says.

''of course you do. it's short as hell.''

jimin giggles , rubbing your legs. ''it suits you.'' he says. ''i'm not so sure.'' you say in response. ''it's not like you have to wear it out anywhere.'' jimin whispers. ''then why would i get it?'' you cross your arms and shake your head , not quite understanding his logic. ''because i can just fuck you in it.'' jimin tugs at the skirt , looking for the price tag. ''really? be serious!'' you softly push him. ''i'm so serious.'' he stands up and looks down at you. you feel the energy in the room shift as jimin hovers above you. ''well-'' you begin feeling nervous all over again. you play with the ends of the skirt as you think of a response.

jimin smirks , knowing the affect he had on you was too much to hide. he holds your waist , running his hands over the soft velvet fabric of the skirt slowly. he bends his neck downward and gives you a small kiss. ''let's test it out.'' he says. your eyes go wide a tiny bit as the words slip out of his mouth. ''here?'' you whisper , listening to the sounds of others in their own dressing rooms as they shopped normally.

''i promise to be quiet if you will.'' jimin pulls you closer , beginning to gently rub your butt. the idea sounded tempting but you didn't wanna risk getting caught over jimin's horny shenanigans. ''i don't know..'' you say. ''let me change your mind then.'' jimin whispers as he steps back from you. he turns you around and pushes himself up against your back. you feel his bulge poke at you and swallow hard as you get increasingly more nervous to do what you're about to do.

jimin looks down as lifts up the skirt over your hips , grabbing onto your panties and roughly sliding them down. he pushes you forward against the wall. you hold onto it and stand still as jimin continues undressing you. he wraps his arms around your torso and begins to slowly unbutton your shirt. he looks into the mirror as he watches himself play with your breasts in a teasing manner.

he suddenly stops , freezing at the sound of people walking past the dressing room. once he feels the coast is clear he continues once again. he lowers his lips onto your shoulders , giving them soft kisses as he tightly clings onto the sides of your body. he moves slowly as he lets go and begins to unbutton his jeans. you turn your head and stare as he pulls out his cock.

still limp , you reach back and start rubbing on it , trying to get him hard as quickly as possible. you bring your hand to your mouth and spit , before reaching back and rubbing it over his cock. he softly groans as he becomes hard. you continue this motion for a few moments until eventually jimin becomes impatient and grabs onto your hair , pushing you forward against the wall and lifting your leg onto the dressing room bench.

you felt exposed as jimin bends down. he ducks under your thighs , lifting the one that rested on the bench. he puts his face forward , engulfing you. you shake as the feeling of his wet tongue touches the sensitive parts of your vagina. you cover your mouth , trying your best to not make noises. he continues eating you out , making soft groaning noises as he does so.

after only a few seconds of this , jimin stands back up. he wipes his mouth and slaps his dick against your butt. you whine , feeling super aroused and impatient now. you put your leg down and grab onto one side of jimin's pants. he holds his cock in one hand and uses the other to cling onto your wrist.

he slides into you , softly groaning. you turn to look at him. ''don't make noise.'' you whisper in a paranoid tone. he chuckles , not taking you seriously. he softly strokes in and out of you , quickly making you wet. he grips onto the sides of your hips and starts to go at a faster pace. soft wet sounds can be heard as jimin slams himself into you.

you push against his chest , making him stop. he slides out of you and sits on the bench. ''you're making too much noises.'' you say , sneaking a peek from under the door. ''i'm not.'' he whispers , running his hands through his hair and sitting up straight , lifting his cock. you turn your back facing him and slowly slide down on it. you sit still for a minute , adjusting to the feeling of his inches deep inside of you.

then , you begin to grind on him. jimin lays his head back onto the wall and closes his eyes with pleasure. ''you feel so good...'' he mumbles out. you smirk and continue grinding on him , quickly going faster. you place your hands on his knees and fuck yourself onto his cock , stiff inside of you. jimin grabs onto your hair and pulls it back as you bounce on him in a fast motion. he wraps it around his fist and tugs on it slightly , not pulling with full force.

the skirt slips over your butt as you continue riding him. jimin lets go of your hair and lifts up the fabric , staring down and watching as you throw yourself onto his cock.

you feel your knees weaken and let go of jimins knees. you bend forward , ready to cum. your pants become heavier and moan like as you finish onto him. at the same time , jimin stands and begins pounding you like crazy. you press up against the dressing room door. strings of your cum spilling out of you and sticking to your bodies. jimin lowly grunts , slamming into you as he creampies you. his chest moves up and down rapidly as he catches his breath.

you feel your insides becoming sticky and wet as you're now filled up with his cum. he slowly pulls out , watching as you stay bent over , allowing his cum to slowly slip out of you. you then fully stand , the fabric once again covering your butt. jimin grabs onto your neck and kisses it harshly , his eyes hazy from the satisfaction of cumming inside of you.

jimin pulls his pants back up and stuffs his cock back into his boxers. he adjusts his hair and looks in the mirror. his cheeks were a faint red color. he pressed down on them with his fingers , wanting it to go away.

he grabs onto the skirts you didn't want and grabs the handle of the dressing room door. you bend down quickly and grab onto his pants. you didn't feel finished just yet and still wanted to taste him. he notices this and smirks. ''we shouldn't risk it again.'' he says. ''i'm sure some people heard.''

you wait as he opens the door and leaves to return the clothing items to the employee. you stay down as you wait for him to come back. when he does , he giggles at you still being on your knees. you tug on his pants and pull them down , his still hard cock springing out. it was still wet with your cum , only turning you on even more.

jimin stands at the doorway , looking to both sides of the hallway. when he confirms that nobody is around , you shove his cock into your mouth. he skips a breath , placing a hand on your head. you suck him clean , licking off all of the cum on his dick. you were certain people could hear , but the paranoia of being caught quickly went as it came. jimin grabs onto your hair , starting to fuck your mouth. you look up at him with watery eyes as you let him.

he looks back down at you , his eyes half lidded. he suddenly stuffs his cock into your mouth , his body tensing up. you feel warm strings of cum trail down your throat as you swallow every last drop. jimin curses under his breath before making you stand back up , not wanting to continue any longer , knowing the chances of being caught were getting higher. ''put your clothes on.'' he whispers tiredly. you do so, taking off the skirt and putting your jeans and shoes back on.

you fix your hair up and grab your purse to re-apply your lipstick. he grabs the skirts and holds onto your hand as you exit the dressing room to go check out.

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campbell-rose · 2 months

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V's Redesign - 3/3

Ugh Idk why Valentino took me so long but here he is, worst boy! I can't decide which color looks better so I made three versions.

His teeth should be gold in all pics, but I straight up forgot to go back and fix it, didn't realize until rn lol

I hate his accent in this show, like it's so inconsistent if i had my way his VA would be able to do a good italian accent.

Anyway, I've changed his demeanor. He's supposed to be a serious threat that abuses and assaults Angel Dust and in his first scene he's throwing a temper tantrum and being coddled like a toddler. In my rewrite he's more collected on the surface, but his temper does flare. But it will be more like when he's telling Angel to get Charlie out of his studio and beating him - that scene was well done (haven't watched Hazbin in a bit, might need to rewatch it, so it was good from what i can remember). He's like that when he's angry.

He's actually charming when he's being flirty

And i have nothing more to say. Which is odd, seeing as he's a major antagonist and I had a lot more to say about Velvette

Probably because with Velvette I was working with next to nothing.

Speaking of Velvette, and Vox by proxy, I think all three of the Vs need to be on the same level of god awful. Valentino sticks out compared to the other two. So, my changes for that - Velvette is a manipulative and verbally abusive person who puts down her models constantly and demands they hurt themselves to attain the perfect figure. Vox is like if Dr. Phil and Jeremy Kyle had a trash tv host hellspawn baby, he exploits those in need, lies about and abuses them for entertainment, and feels no remorse when his guests inevitably do something drastic. I want all three of them to be horrible people that thrive in how awful they are and enjoy hurting others.

Anyway, bye bye <3

#anti vivziepop #vivziepop critical #hazbin hotel redesign #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critique #hazbin hotel rewrite

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ichorai · 1 year

Text

sorry ; daryl dixon.

track three of BROKEN MACHINE.

pairing ; daryl dixon x doctor!reader (gender neutral pronouns)

synopsis ; you were on your knees, and daryl was too. he wouldn’t look at you—he couldn’t—terrified that negan would bring that bat down on your head if he noticed.

words ; 7.9k

themes ; heavy angst, mild action, doctor au

warnings / includes ; death and violence, negan at his worst, vulgar language, guns/weapons, descriptions of injury/blood, mentions of maggie's pregnancy, negan goes on long ass monologues, poor rick is going Through it, the walking dead s6-7 spoilers (fic starts right at the season six finale), mild sexual dialogue from negan

main masterlist.

Maggie hummed with discontent when you pressed a cold, damp cloth to her forehead. There was a pallid color to her skin, and her temperature was beginning to rise, despite her violent shivers beneath the blanket. The inconsistent, rocking motions of the RV weren’t doing her any favors, either.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you to Hilltop real soon,” you said, feeling mildly guilty that you couldn’t help her more, despite being a doctor yourself. Alexandria was completely out of medical supplies and this was urgent—if Maggie didn’t get help soon… you’d never be able to forgive yourself if something bad were to happen to her or the baby. “Hang on for me, okay?”

The brunette slanted her lips in a tired smile, eyelids heavy.

Rick knelt down beside you, speaking in a low, comforting tone. “We’re gonna get there. Once we get the medicine from Hilltop, Y/N will fix you right up.”

A small sigh fell from her pale, trembling lips. A thin film of tears warbled over her eyes. She was terrified.

“Oh, Maggie,” you murmured, gently pulling away the short strands of hair sticking to her face.

“How do you know?” muttered your friend, gaze trained on the ex-cop.

“Everything we’ve done… we've done it together. We got here together and we’re still here. Things have happened, but it’s always worked out for us, ‘cause it’s always been all of us. That’s how I know. As long as it’s all of us helpin’ you, we can do it.”

A hot tear meandered down Maggie’s cheek. You nodded gratefully at Rick—he’d always had a way with words that you’d never really gotten a grasp of.

The next hour passed by slowly. You switched between cooling her head, and helping her drink some water, sometimes just holding her hand and telling her that everything was going to be fine. To take her mind off the pain, she’d asked you to tell her about how you and Daryl met, all those years ago long before the dead began to walk.

“I’m glad Daryl’s not here right now, because he always tells the story differently than I do. Well, how I remember it, he and his dick brother used to come to a small convenience store near their trailer park. That’s where I worked. I was around… nineteen at the time? Almost twenty. I was just working a couple jobs on the side to pay off my growing student debt. Daryl was twenty-three, almost twenty-four. Merle tried to cozy up to me—and I didn’t have any of that. I told him to fuck right off. And later that night, just as I was to close up, Daryl came by and apologized on his brother’s behalf. He was real sweet, so I—”

“What the bitch?” barked Abraham from the driver’s seat, effectively cutting your story short and rolling the RV to a grueling halt.

“What?” asked Rick, standing up to look out the window. You followed suit, eyes widening upon the sight.

More than half a dozen Saviors blocking the road with three of their cars—and all of them holding large guns. A lump formed in your throat, and you cast your worried gaze to Rick.

“We goin’ through?” asked Abraham, jaw set.

Rick gnashed his jaw together in thought. “No,” he said. “We’ll talk to them. C’mon. Y/N, you stay here, watch over Maggie.”

Teeth worrying into your bottom lip, you nodded, stepping to the side to let the rest of them file out of the RV, their own loaded guns at the ready.

From inside, you couldn’t hear what the Saviors were saying, but from the smug expression of the one in the center with a hideous pornstache, you knew it couldn’t be anything pleasant for your group.

Three minutes later, they came back in, all looking a bit disgruntled. Rick, most of all.

“What’s going on?” you asked Carl, placing a hand on his forearm.

The young man that you were so fond of grimaced, shaking his head and lowering his voice to a whisper so that Maggie couldn’t overhear. “They won’t let us through. Want half our stuff.”

Your breath hitched. At this rate, you didn’t know how long Maggie could last without the proper care and medicine. And Alexandria was running low on supplies as it is—taking away half of everything would put the community in a pretty dire situation.

“Alright, thanks kid,” you told him, trying your absolute best not to cry from frustration, your nose burning with the effort.

The truck began to pull further away from the Saviors, until they were only but little dots against the horizon.

“Logrun Road’s a straight shot,” said Eugene, repeatedly tapping his finger against the map spread out across the RV’s pull-out table.

Next to you, Sasha shook her head. “We want visibility.”

You pursed your lips, craning your neck to scan the small, faded texts of the map. “Can we go down Shelton?”

Eugene hummed in agreement, drawling out in his thick Southern accent, “Golf course, country clubs, sloping terrain—no bum rush from the bogeymen. We’d see ‘em from a good piece. It is a longer trip by a third but we’d get the scenic safety of clear-cut dingles and glens.”

Both you and Sasha stared at him blankly.

“You’re being serious, right?” asked Sasha.

“As coronary thrombosis,” replied the man across from you, stony-faced. Besides, Eugene was never one to joke around.

Sasha rounded her gaze to you expectantly, waiting for you to explain in normal terms. “He’s serious,” you said. “It’s a longer route, but it’ll be well-sheltered and hopefully keep us hidden from the Saviors. I’ll try to keep Maggie steady until then.”

The two nodded at you, and you pushed away from the table, heading further back into the RV where Maggie and Rick were. She was pale and clammy, but still had enough energy to talk to you, so you took that as a good sign.

Not even ten minutes later, while you were taking measurements of her blood pressure and body temperature, the vehicle came to another rumbling halt.

“Bitch nuts,” cursed Abraham, loudly for both you and Rick to hear.

The Saviors were blocking the road. Again.

You could feel panic seize about your chest, constricting your lungs. The situation wasn’t looking good for Maggie, not one bit—but you couldn’t give up hope. Not now, when she needed you the most. You blew out a shaky breath, absentmindedly wishing Daryl was here with you to give you some comfort of mind.

“We making our stand?” asked Sasha, staring out of the window, where more than a dozen saviors were lined up.

Carl, ever the fiery one, spat out, “Yeah. We end this.”

The blue of his father’s eyes flashed dangerously. “No. Not now. It’s too dangerous for Maggie. They’ve been waiting—they’re ready. We ain’t. With one of us behind the wheel, and Y/N with Maggie, that’d be five on sixteen. We’re gonna play it our way. How we want it.”

Reluctant, Carl nodded.

Slowly, the RV started backing away. Three successive, warning gunshots were fired into the air. You could feel a sick, twisted rage curl up within your stomach.

If Maggie died on your watch—her blood would be on the hands of the Saviors.

You fumbled for another map pinned up on the cork board, eyes roaming over the roads, desperate for another available route. Could they possibly have you surrounded? No—the woods were vast, and the roads were winding—there were so many paths left to take to Hilltop. The Saviors simply wouldn’t have the numbers to stop you.

Wouldn’t they?

The RV came to another stop. This time, there were no Saviors blocking the road, but instead, a line of chained-up walkers. Not wanting to risk damaging the RV by driving through them, the rest of the group filed out to check if the coast was clear. You told Maggie you’d be right back, before hopping out of the RV, lingering by the doorway to narrow your gaze at the restrained walkers.

“That’s Michonne’s,” breathed out Carl, his single eye widening. A lock of her hair was stapled against the center walker’s forehead.

Horror, as black as tar itself, seeped into your chest when you glanced over to the next snarling form, just to see two of Daryl’s arrows embedded into its decaying stomach. Daryl always retrieved his arrows. Which meant… something had happened to him.

“That’s Daryl’s,” you said, loud enough for Rick to hear. “Oh, no, Rick… they did this on purpose. They knew we were coming this way—!”

Just as Rick was about to cleave his axe into the walker’s skull, ricocheting gunfire crackled into the ground, making the dried leaves flutter up with the sudden force, plumes of dust and smoke flying with each bullet.

“Get back to the RV! Go!” yelled Rick. You scrambled up the steps and ran to a concerned Maggie, trembling as you carefully hovered over her, in case any bullets pierced through the walls and accidentally hit her. Carl and Sasha began shooting blindly into the woods, having not a clue where all the shots were coming from. Rick surged forward and thrust his axe down onto one of the walker’s rotting arms, effectively leaving a gap open for the RV to drive through.

The rest of the group rushed inside, and Abraham practically threw himself into the driver’s seat to get the RV moving.

The shots died away after a few minutes. With shallow, inconsistent breaths, you slid off of Maggie, slumping down beside her. She croaked out a question, but it fell upon deaf ears, ringing with static and white noise. A warm tear fell from your burning eyes, and you quickly brushed it away with the back of your palm.

Something happened to Daryl. And it was killing you that you couldn’t help him. That you didn’t even know where he was.

You looked out the window through a watery film of tears, watching the yellow-green fields pass by in a blur. A quick glance at the lowering sun told you that the group was going to lose daylight soon enough, as well.

A strange, creaking noise was coming from below the RV.

“What’s that sound?” said Sasha, worried.

“Undercarriage could’ve caught a bullet,” replied Eugene. “Could be transmission. Could be nothing.”

Agitated, Rick growled out, “They were firing at our feet. They blocked the road, but they weren’t trying to stop us.”

“They want us in this direction,” you murmured, making his wild gaze swivel to you. You gestured to the map. “Rick, they know we’re coming. They know we wanna go North.”

“Meadows would take us East a piece,” said Eugene, “but we can get back on track on Mayhew.”

It would take too long, you thought. Maggie doesn’t have the strength to carry on anymore.

Shaking her head, Sasha said, “We’re down to a third of a tank—we could top off at the next stop, but it’s risky. We can’t have any refills after that.”

A low moan fell from Maggie’s pale lips as a wave of pain washed over her, moving in and out of a hazy unconsciousness. You were quick to check her temperature, blanching at the fact that she was nearly scalding to the touch. You quickly placed the damp cloth to her skin again, trying your best to keep her temperature down.

“Rick, she’s burning up,” you told him, voice thick with worry.

It was then that the RV came to another stop.

This time, there were more saviors—around three dozen, maybe even four.

“Go back,” said Rick, eyes wide and stress evidently painted across his strained features.

Abraham squared his jaw. “We have nowhere to go back to.”

With a shaky breath, you stroked Maggie’s head, your heart shattering into millions of pieces. “I’m sorry, Maggie,” you said, a sob bubbling in your throat. “I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry—I wish I could do something, I’m sorry.”

Disoriented and not having heard a word of your apologetic babbling, Maggie croaked out, “Are we there yet?”

More tears slipped down your cheeks. Rick was by your side, placing one hand on your shoulder and the other on Maggie’s arm. You stifled your sobs with your palm, and Rick replied in your stead.

“Yeah, Maggie. We’re—we’re getting there.”

The woman’s eyelids fluttered lethargically. “Were there… I heard shots.”

Rick’s expression softened. “Yeah, the Saviors—they’re gone now. We’re gonna get you there.”

A ghost of a smile tilted the corner of Maggie’s lips up. “I know.”

“You’ll be okay,” you told her, sniffling. “The baby’s going to be okay. This isn’t the end.”

“There’s more,” agreed Rick. “There’s gonna be more, I promise.”

A beat of silence.

“I believe in you, Rick,” she hoarsely said. Maggie’s gaze slowly moved from Rick to you. “In both of you.”

Maggie was asleep again. You made sure to give her plenty of water and what was left of the antibiotics you had saved—but that was the very last bit of supply you had. There was little else you could do for her other than getting her to Hilltop for the proper medicine and treatment she needed.

“So what’s the play?” asked Abraham. “They’ve cut us off every turn we made.”

“She needs medicine,” said Rick, desperation lacing each word. “She’ll die without it.”

“We only have two plausible routes North from here. They’ve cornered us,” Sasha whispered, gaze trained on the map.

Hopelessness laid uneasy on all of your shoulders.

“They’re probably waiting for us right now,” said Aaron.

Eugene gritted his teeth. “So, they’re ahead of us. Heck, probably even behind us. But they’re not waiting on us, per se—they’re waitin’ on this rust bucket. They don’t know the moment-to-moment occupancy of said rust bucket. And the sun sets soon.”

“We need to leave now if we want Maggie to make it to Hilltop,” you said, voice trembling with a myriad of guilt, anger, and frustration. “We carry Maggie, and we go on foot. Through the woods. They can’t block us there.”

Eugene took the RV in hopes of tricking the Saviors. Everybody else in the group set off into the woods, taking turns carrying Maggie on the makeshift stretcher, bundled under two layers of blankets. The sun had long set, and the whispering winds were cold this time of year.

“Just let me walk it,” she rasped, voice scratchy and throat dry.

“No,” you were quick to reply. “You’re in no condition to walk right now, Maggie. It’s only a few more miles. Just rest up a bit more, okay?”

Though she didn’t look happy, Maggie didn’t protest any further, letting her tired eyes slip shut once more.

After a couple more minutes, Aaron stepped in to carry one end of the stretcher for you, telling you that you also needed to rest your arms for a second. With a grateful nod, you reluctantly let go, falling into stride with Carl.

“Are you okay?” the young man asked, his hand brushing yours, his nonverbal way of saying that he was here for you if you needed him. “I’m sure Daryl and Michonne are fine. They’re fighters. Maggie’s going to be fine, too.”

You sent him a fond, but tired smile. “Yeah, I hope so, kiddo,” you told him, cuffing his shoulder affectionately. The thought of Daryl out there, probably worried sick for you as well, made your stomach twist into knots. “I really hope so.”

It was at that moment, a shrill whistle sounded out from the darkness of the forest. The group halted in their tracks. One by one, more whistles were added to the ear-splitting melody. It sounded like there were dozens, if not a hundred voices surrounding you.

“Go!” yelled Rick. “Go!”

The rest of you broke out in a sprint, and you grabbed Carl’s hand, winding around tree trunks and hopping over overgrown roots, ignoring the stinging scrapes of twisting branches against your face.

The whistling only continued, growing louder, louder, louder—

Until you came face to face with the source itself.

Car lights suddenly flashed open, momentarily blinding you. You drew Carl closer to you, instinctively protecting him, but it was no use. They had your group surrounded. Saviors, hundreds of them, gathered around you with leering expressions. All of them were clutching guns.

Raw fear curled around your lungs when you saw Eugene on his knees not too far from you, tears dripping down his face.

Rick looked destroyed. Devastated.

You were shaking so hard that your knees began to buckle beneath you.

Finally, the whistling began to dwindle away.

From the crowd, stepped out a familiar face—the man with a hideous pornstache that stopped the RV on the initial route.

“Good,” he called out. He swept his arms out in a faux inviting gesture. “You made it. Welcome to where you’re going—because you ain’t goin’ anywhere ‘til we’re done with you. We’ll take your weapons.”

When he pointed a gun straight at Maggie, you immediately did as he said, pulling out the pistol wedged in your belt. There was a knife inside your boot, but you weren’t too keen on giving that up yet. You tossed your pistol on the ground just as Abraham threw down his rifle. The rest of the group followed suit.

Trembling, Rick spat out, “We can talk about this—”

“We’re done talking,” interrupted Pornstache. “Okay. Get her down, and let’s get you all on your knees. Lots to cover.”

“She can’t,” you snarled, stepping in front of Maggie protectively. “She’s sick, she can’t—”

“Oh, she’ll be far worse than just sick if you don’t get her on her knees,” the man easily rebutted, eyes roaming over your protective form.

Lips trembling, you turned around, and with Abraham on her other side, you helped Maggie limp off the stretcher and gently set her down on her knees. Your eyes glistened and warbled with unshed tears. Maggie could only shake her head, as if telling you that it wasn’t your fault.

Terrified, Rick glanced around at the rest of the group. He’d failed you. All of you.

“Gonna need you on your knees, sweetheart,” said Pornstache, slowly dragging the end of his gun up your cheek with a salacious grin.

With a withering glare, you sank down beside Maggie, Rick on your left side, breathing haggard and lips quaking. Sasha and Abraham followed suit. Carl was the last, fists clenched by his sides.

“Dwight!” whistled Pornstache. “Chop chop! Bring out the others!”

A blonde man with half of his face horribly marred by what looked to be a severe burn injury, stepped forward, yanking open the back of a truck.

And, to your horror, he dragged out your boyfriend, covered in blood—blood that you could only pray wasn’t his, even though you knew deep down that that was only wishful thinking. Following Daryl was Michonne, Rosita, and Glenn, equally distraught.

Daryl caught your eye for a brief second, pure terror within his irises. He looked over you to make sure that you were alright, and you did the same with him, a tear slipping down your cheek.

I love you, you mouthed to him. He dipped his head once in understanding, before forcing his gaze away, not wanting to give the Saviors anymore reason to torture either of you.

“Maggie…?” Glenn painfully rasped once he caught sight of his wife in such a state. He tried to make his way to her, but the Saviors grabbed his arms and forced him down, guns digging harshly into his back.

“Alright!” exclaimed Pornstache. “We got a full boat! Let’s meet the man, eh?”

He knocked twice on the door to the RV you were in not even an hour ago.

The door slowly swung open, squeaking on its hinges.

And out strode a tall man clad in a leather jacket, a bat covered in barbed wire hanging off his shoulder. He took his sweet time making his way towards the group, feet languidly dragging along the gravelly dirt, and a smirk accentuating his smug expression.

“Pissing our pants yet?” he drawled, voice tapering into a light chuckle as he stepped out into the light, smiling down at your group on your knees. “Boy, do I have a feeling we’re gettin’ close. Mm, yeah—it’s gonna be pee-pee pants city here real soon. Now which one of you pricks is the leader?”

Pornstache pointed at Rick. “It’s this one here.”

The man with the bat grinned wider, before stepping right in front of Rick, who craned his neck to glare up at him. “Hi there. You’re Rick, right? I’m Negan. And I do not appreciate you killin’ my men. Also, when I sent my people to kill your people for killing my people… you killed more of my people. Not cool, man. Not cool. You have… no fuckin’ idea how not cool that shit is. But I think you’re gonna be up to speed shortly. Mmh, yeah. You are so gonna regret crossin’ me in a few minutes. Yes, you are.” A dangerous, wolfish grin flashed across Negan’s face. “You see, Rick, whatever you do, no matter what—you don’t mess with the new world order. And the new world order is really very simple. So, even if you’re stupid, which you may very well be, you can understand it. You ready? Here goes—pay attention.”

He lowered his bat off his shoulder and slotted the barbed end right below Rick’s chin. You held in your breath, your entire body wracking with tremors. Though you knew you needed to stop, you couldn’t help but chance glances at Daryl every so often, your concern for him rapidly growing. Some of that was his blood, it had to be—his eyes were sunken with exhaust and his chest, the very chest you would fall asleep on every night, was rising and falling unevenly, making you believe he was hurt, but you just couldn’t see what was hurting him.

“Give me your shit… or I will kill you. See? Simple as that.” Negan pulled the bat away from Rick, and began walking around the group as he spoke. “Today was career day. We invested a lot so you would know who I am and what I can do. You work for me now. You have shit, you give it to me. That’s your job. Now, I know that is a mighty big, nasty pill to swallow. But swallow it, you most certainly will! You ruled the roost. You built something, Rick. You thought you were safe, I get it. But the word is out. You are not safe. Not even close. In fact, you are pegged—more pegged if you don’t do what I want. And what I want is half your shit. If that’s too much, you can make, find, or steal more, and it’ll even out sooner or later. This is your way of life now. The more you fight back, the harder it will be. So, if someone knocks on your door… you let us in. We own that door. You try to stop us? And we will knock it down. You understand?”

Rick swallowed heavily. Narrowing his keen eyes, Negan cupped his ear and leaned down closer to the kneeling man.

“What? No answer? You don’t really think that you were going to get through this without being punished, now, did you? I don’t want to kill you people. I just wanna make that clear from the get go. I want you to work for me—and you can’t do that if you’re dead, now, can you? I’m not growin’ a garden. But you killed my people—a whole damn lot of ‘em! More than I’m comfortable with, honestly. And for that… for that you’re gonna pay.”

Your hands curled into fists on your knees. You knew what was coming. And you’d be damned if you were going to let it happen.

“So, now… I’m gonna beat the holy hell outta one of you.” Negan inhaled sharply, as if he enjoyed prolonging the torture. He bent down once more, showing off the barbed bat. “This right here—this is Lucille. And she is awesome. All this… all this is just so we can pick out which one of you gets the honor!”

Negan stopped in front of Abraham, who straightened and glared defiantly at the smirking man. In thought, Negan subconsciously rubbed his bearded jaw with one hand at the sight of Abraham’s own mustache. “Huh. I gotta shave this shit.”

On he strolled, before halting in front of Carl. “You had one of our guns. Hm. You got a lot of our guns.” Carl only scowled at the man. “Shit, kid. Lighten up. At least cry a little.”

Chuckling, Negan moved on.

You could feel one of your eyes twitch when you saw his shoes stop right in front of you. His bat was beneath your chin in an instant, forcing you to look up. The sharp metal on the bat painfully scratched against your jaw, and fresh tears pricked the corners of your eyes.

“My, my, you’re a pretty thing, aren’t you? What’s your name, darlin’?”

Hatred simmered within your chest, but you forced your expression to remain indifferent.

You quietly told him your name, wincing when his bat dug deeper into your neck and he ordered you to say it louder. You repeated yourself, voice cracking. A single tear meandered down your cheek and slid down your chin, dripping onto Lucille.

Negan hummed, nodding in satisfaction. “Now that’s what I want to see, folks! A little emotion around here—Y/N’s got the gist of it!”

“Kill me,” you gritted out, making the rest of the group’s eyes widen. You could feel Rick’s stare burning holes straight through you, but you refused to meet his gaze, staring straight up at Negan. “You can kill me. Just don’t hurt them. Let them go. Maggie, on my right, she’s real sick and she needs medicine—if she doesn’t get the proper treatment soon, she’ll… she’ll…”

The man in front of you barked out an amused laugh. “She’ll what?”

“She’ll die,” you snarled. “So kill me. Get it over with—and let them go.”

And for a split second, you let your eyes return to Daryl, one last time. He wouldn’t look at you—he couldn’t—terrified that Negan would bring that bat down on your head if he noticed.

But it was all futile. He noticed anyway.

He followed your gaze over to Daryl, lowering his bat to gesture between the two of you.

“Ah… you two are a thing, ain’t ya? Damn. And here I thought you were available for takin’, sugar.” Negan tossed his head back and chuckled with mild disappointment. “God, look at you bein’ all heroic, offering yourself up for the chopping block! No, no, darlin’, this ain’t a game of who gets to be a martyr and save their friends. You don’t decide what’s happening here. I do. You think I don’t know you’re the doctor of the group? My people have been reporting to me—they know you’ve been the one taking care of Little Miss Sickly over there. No… you’re far too valuable for me to kill. We need more people like you, darlin’. Plus, I wouldn’t want to bash in your pretty little face, now, would I?”

With a hum, Negan stepped away from you, fixing his gaze upon Maggie.

“Jesus. You look shitty. I should just put you out of your misery right now—!”

“NO!” screamed Glenn, scrambling onto his feet and lunging at Negan. Before he could even begin to make contact, Dwight grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, threateningly shoving Daryl’s crossbow into his face.

Maggie cried out—both from a fresh wave of pain seeping through her bones, and from the sight of her husband being dragged back to his spot like a ragdoll.

Huffing out a sigh, Negan grunted out, “Nope. Nope, nope, get him back in line.”

Glenn screamed, choking back a sob. “No… don’t. Don’t!”

Negan could only smile. “Alright, alright, listen. Don’t any of you do that again—I will shut that shit down, no exceptions! First one’s free—it’s an emotional moment. I get it. Mmh. Sucks, don’t it? The moment you realize you don’t know shit.”

Rick trembled violently beside you. Tilting his head, Negan glanced between him and Carl, realization dawning upon him when he noticed the physical similarities between the two.

“This is your kid, right? Ohoho, that is definitely your kid!”

“JUST STOP THIS!” yelled Rick, so sudden that it made you flinch.

Equivalent in volume, Negan bellowed back, “HEY! Do not make me kill your little future serial killer! Don’t make it easy on me! I gotta pick somebody—everybody’s at the table waitin’ for me to order, hm?”

The man whistled out a shrill tune, one that sent a shiver dance down your spine.

“I simply cannot decide. But I got an idea.” With that, he pointed the bat at Rick. “Eenie.”

He moved to you, before narrowing his eyes, and skipped over to Maggie. “Meenie.”

Abraham. “Minie.”

Michonne. “Mo.”

Glenn. “Catch.”

Daryl. “A tiger.”

Rosita. “By.”

Eugene. “His toe.”

Sasha. “If.”

Aaron. “He hollers.”

Carl. “Let him go.”

And so on he went.

My mother told me to pick the very best one. And you… are… it.

Your heart dropped when the end of his bat stopped in front of Abraham.

No. No… no… no…

“Anybody moves, anybody says anything, cut the boy’s other eye out and feed it to his father, and then we’ll start! You can breathe, you can blink, you can cry. Hell, you’re all gonna be doin’ that!”

And with that, he swung the bat back and brought it clean down on Abraham’s head.

Screams erupted from around you. You could feel your vision blur over with your tears, and you closed your eyes shut, not wanting to see such a gruesome sight, curling in on yourself as you listened to the repeated, sickening squelch of Negan’s bat repeatedly hitting your dear friend. Negan gloated and laughed and jeered. You cried and sobbed and flinched with every strike.

His blood—Abraham’s blood—splattered on your face. You could feel it.

Warm, moist, and thick. Dripping down your cheek.

“You guys… look at my dirty girl!” proclaimed Negan, jutting out the bloody bat for all to witness. The monster of a man tilted his head at Rosita, whose eyes were horrified and bloodshot, dripping with fat tears. “Sweetheart… lay your eyes on this!”

When Rosita began to cry harder, Negan hummed. “Oh, damn. Were you… were you guys together? That sucks. If you were, you should know—there was a reason for all this. Red—and damn if that isn’t a good name for him—he just took one, or six, or seven for the team! So take… a damn… look.”

Rosita refused to move her gaze from Abraham’s mutilated corpse.

And, much to your horror, Daryl growled out as he surged forward on his feet, landing a clean punch against Negan’s jaw. You screamed out his name when three Saviors grabbed him and beat him back onto the ground, pinning him tightly against the gravel. A sob wracked through your frame and you could feel your stomach twist into itself. Daryl was still struggling against them, clutching his side as he panted out.

“No!” yelled Negan, clearly furious. “Oh, no. That—is a big no-no. The whole thing—not one fucking bit of that shit flies here!”

Terror clutched at your palpitating heart when Negan shoved Lucille right up into Daryl’s face, smearing Abraham’s blood all over him.

Dwight strode up and pointed Daryl’s own crossbow against the back of your boyfriend’s head. A sob fell from your lips. You couldn’t watch this—you just couldn’t.

“Daryl,” you cried out, hiccupping through your words. “Negan… no. No, please, don’t! I’ll do anything, please! Not him. Please, not him!”

Amused at your pleading, Negan casted a sidelong glance to you, before grabbing at Daryl’s hair and pulling him upright. “See what you did there, Buckaroo? You got your little partner all upset! Look, they’re crying their eyes out, worried for you.” Negan got back up on his feet. “Get him back in line,” he barked, though his eyes were trained on you.

And in two quick strides, he was back in front of you, gripping your face tightly between his gloved hand. “Look at you, darlin’, all covered in blood. Would it be weird if I say it makes my dick hard as fuck?” You scowled, trying your best to pull your face away from his uncomfortably rough grip. “Ah, ah, ah, sweetheart—your boyfriend here didn’t listen to me earlier. I said the first one was free, didn’t I? And what does that mean? Second one’s got a price, hm? I said I’d shut that shit down—no exceptions. I don’t know what kind of lyin’ assholes y’all have been dealing with… but I’m a man of my word. First impressions are important! I need you all to know me. Know that I’m not joking around with this shit. Now, if you weren’t a doctor and you weren’t so fuckin’ hot—I would’ve bashed your head to pieces without battin’ an eye! But, lookie here, I’m faced with another dilemma. I need to kill another one of you to get my point across.”

A wail bubbled up in your throat and you began to claw at Negan’s fingers now painfully squeezing your jaw. “No… please, please… don’t, please—!”

“And I want you, darlin’, to pick which one of your little friends I kill.”

“No!” you spat, breathing shallow and panicked. “Me—just kill me, Negan—you don’t have to hurt anyone else, please, please, let them go, you—”

Getting irritated with you, Negan shook your face until you stopped blubbering. “You’re not listenin’ to me. Pick. Someone. Not you, and not your little boyfriend. I want him to live with the fact that one of his friends died because of him. Pick someone. Anyone, sweetheart. You’ll be doin’ em a favor, honestly. They get to save the rest of you from a miserable death! Now, doesn’t that sound appealing?”

A beat of silence. Negan stared you down, and you glared right back.

“Eat my shit,” you snarled out.

Narrowing his eyes, Negan finally relinquished his hold on you. You gasped for breath, chest heaving, stabilizing yourself with your hands on your thighs. “Goddamn, you’re feisty! Might have to keep you around after this—holy fuckin’ shit. Mmh, alright… fine, then. Since you won’t pick—I’ll just have to kill your precious patient’s boyfriend, hm?”

Before any of you could react, Negan spun on his heel and arced his bat through the air, right onto Glenn’s head. Again, and again, and again.

A piercing scream echoed across the forest. Maggie’s scream.

Your mouth dropped open as a silent cry scratched down the sides of your throat.

Glenn was still alive, somehow, after all those bashes. Blood caked his entire skull and part of his head was caved in—to your nauseating horror, one of his eyes had come out of its socket.

“Buddy, you still there?” exclaimed Negan in astonishment, bending down to inspect his handiwork. “I just don’t know… seems to me like you’re tryin’ to say something! But you just took a hell of a hit! I just cracked your skull so hard, your eyeball popped right out! And it is gross as shit!”

After all that, Glenn managed to slur out, “Maggie… I’ll find you.”

Sobs rang throughout the clearing. The rest of the group cried tears for Glenn—without him, all of you would’ve been dead three times over.

“Awh, hell. I can see this is hard on you guys,” said Negan. “I’m sorry. I truly am. But I did say… no exceptions!”

With that, he brought down his bat again. Over, and over, and over.

Maggie cried so hard her voice started to give out.

Daryl, your beloved Daryl, flinched with every stroke of the bat, his eyes red and puffy with tears. You could see it already—the guilt behind his gaze. He thought it was his fault Glenn was killed.

You shut your eyes again.

“Lucille is thirsty! She’s a vampire bat!” proudly declared Negan, as he swung one final hit on Glenn’s long-dead body. “What? Was the joke that bad? Tough crowd, huh?”

“I’m gonna kill you,” whispered Rick once Negan was done. Rick had blood splattered all over his face, as well. Abraham’s blood. Glenn’s blood.

Negan squatted down beside him, tilting his head. His bat was dangerously close to you. “What? I didn’t quite catch that, Rick. You’re gonna have to speak up.”

Squaring his jaw, Rick drew in a sharp inhale. “Not today… not tomorrow… but I’m gonna kill you.”

Negan sucked at his teeth. “Jesus,” he softly said. “Simon. What did he have? A knife?”

Pornstache raised his brows. “He had a hatchet. An axe.”

Snorting, Negan shook his head. “Simon’s my right-hand man. Having one of those is important. I mean, what do you have left without ‘em? A whole lot of work. You have one? Maybe one of these fine people still breathing? Oh… or did I…”

The man waved the bloodied bat in front of Rick’s face, taunting him.

“Sure, yeah. Give me his axe.” Pornstache handed Negan the small weapon and Negan smugly slid it into his belt. Suddenly, Negan grabbed the back of Rick’s jacket and yanked him up, practically dragging him by the scruff towards the RV. Your breath hitched, wanting to stop him, but all the guns trained on the backs of your friends made you freeze. All you could do was lower your head and stave away your raucous sobs.

“I’ll be right back, folks! Maybe Rick will be with me! And if not… well, we can just turn these people inside out, won’t we? I mean… the ones that are left!”

They were gone for hours.

During those hours, part of you wanted to go to Maggie, comfort her, check if both she and the baby were alright. No doubt she was in a tremendous amount of both emotional and physical pain. The other part of you wanted to go to Daryl, curl up in the safety of his arms and cry into his chest.

But you couldn’t do either. Not with the Saviors pointing the barrels of their rifles to the back of your skulls.

The sun was already beginning to rise, tinting the sky a sweet, soft shade of blue. A stark juxtaposition to the dark red blood steadily drying on the rocky ground.

When Rick got back, Negan ruthlessly threw him down in front of the group. He looked exhausted. More than that—he looked dead inside. The light behind his eyes was gone.

“Do you know what that little trip was about?” asked Negan.

Rick looked around wildly, as if making sure that everyone else was alright.

“Speak when you’re spoken to,” Negan hissed.

Begrudgingly, Rick bowed his head. “Okay… okay.”

Negan wolfishly grinned, though there was a dark glimmer to his irises that you misliked. “That trip was about the way that you looked at me. I wanted to change that. I wanted you to understand. But you’re still lookin’ at me the same damn way. Like I shit in your scrambled eggs, and that’s not gonna work!” Once again, Negan squatted down beside Rick, that smug expression still plastered across the man’s coarse features. “So… do I give you another chance?”

After a moment’s pause, Rick hacked out, “Yeah. Yes.”

Satisfied, Negan clapped Rick on the back, before getting back up onto his feet. “Alright! Here it is, the grand-prize game. What you do next will decide whether your crap day becomes everyone’s last crap day… or just another crap day. Get some more guns to the back of their heads. Level with their noses, so if you have to fire… it’ll be a real fuckin’ mess.”

You could feel cold metal graze the very top of your temple.

“Kid, come here,” said Negan, making your heart plummet to your stomach. Rick’s expression shifted to one of pure dread.

Carl didn’t move.

“Kid… now.”

With cautious movements, Carl stood up in front of the taller man.

“You a southpaw?” asked Negan while he unbuckled his belt, pulling it out of its loops.

“Am I a what?”

“A lefty,” clarified Negan.

Carl scowled. “No.”

“Good,” retorted Negan, before grabbing Carl’s left arm and tying the belt around his bicep. “That hurt?”

Gritting his teeth, Carl bit out a negative.

“It should. It’s supposed to.” Negan smirked, knocking Carl’s cowboy hat off his head. “Alright, get down on the ground next to daddy, kid. Spread them wings!”

Slowly, Carl lowered himself down beside Rick, his cheek pressed flat against the dusty gravel.

“Simon, you got a pen?”

Pornstache nodded, brandishing a marker from his pocket and tossing it over to Negan. The man uncapped the black pen with his teeth, flashing you a wink and spitting out the cap somewhere to the side. He kneeled down by Carl to draw a straight line just below the junction of his elbow.

“Sorry, kid,” he said, not sounding sorry at all. “This is gonna be as cold as a warlock’s dick, as if he were hanging his ballsack above you and dragging it right across your forearm! Gives you a little leverage, don’t it?”

Stammering, Rick muttered out, “Please… please don’t. Please don’t.”

Negan tilted his head, lightly chuckling. “Me? Oh, I ain’t doin’ shit. Rick… I want you to take your axe and cut your son’s left arm off—right on that line! Now, I know you gotta process that for a second. That makes sense. Still, though—I’m gonna need you to do it, or all these people are gonna die. Then your kid dies. Then the people back home die. Then you… eventually. I’d keep you breathing for a few years just so you could stew on it!”

“You… you don’t have to do this,” pleaded Michonne. It was the first time she’d spoken since she got out of the truck. Seeing Carl splayed out in front of her, practically her son, made something inside her snap. “We understand. We get it, we—”

“You might understand! I’m not so sure Rick here does. I’m gonna need a clean cut right there on that line. Now, I know this is a screwed-up thing to ask, but it’s gonna have to be like a salami slice. You remember those, right? Nothin’ messy. I want a clean, forty-five degree cut. Give us somethin’ to fold over. You got Y/N right there to fix him up nice and good. The kid’ll be just fine. Probably.”

Rick was just about losing his mind, rocking back and forth, murmuring incoherently beneath his breath. Sweat dripped down his bloodied face, his hair, mixing with the salty tears leaking from his crazed eyes.

“Rick. This needs to happen now. Chop, chop. Before I crush the little fella’s skull myself.”

Swallowing down his sobs, Rick choked, “It can—it can… it can be me. It can be me. Wh… you… you could do it to me. I c-can go with—with you.”

Negan smiled at his desperation. “No. This is the only way. Pick up the axe, Rick. Not making a decision is a big decision, let me tell you that. You really wanna see all these people die? Because you will—if you don’t PICK UP THE FUCKING AXE!”

Rick began sobbing uncontrollably.

“Oh, my God,” said Negan, pulling at his face wearily. “You gonna make me count? Okay, Rick—you win. I’ll start counting. Three!”

“PLEASE!” screamed Rick. “IT CAN BE ME. PLEASE!”

“Two!” Negan kneeled down and slapped a sobbing Rick across the face, before grabbing his cheeks, not unlike he did with you hours before. “This is it, Rick. Make a decision. One!”

With a gut wrenching scream, Rick’s trembling fingers curled around the handle of his axe.

“Dad…” whispered Carl. A tear slipped down your cheek as the events unfolded in front of you. “Just do it.”

Rick cocked his arm back, seconds away from bringing it down to cleave Carl’s hand off.

But Negan grabbed Rick’s wrist at the very last second, stopping him.

The man smirked, pleased with himself. “You answer to me. You provide for me. You belong to me. Right?”

Frantically, Rick nodded his head.

“SPEAK WHEN YOU’RE SPOKEN TO! You answer to me. You provide for me!”

“I’ll provide for you!” cried Rick.

“You belong to me! Right?” hollered Negan.

Hiccuping a sob, Rick bobbed his head. “Right.”

“Now that… that is the look I wanted to see.” Negan grabbed Rick’s axe from him and stepped away. “We did it. All of us, together. Even the dead guys on the ground! Hell, they get the spirit award, for sure! Today was a productive damn day! Now, I hope for all your sake… that you get it now. That you understand how things work. Things have changed. Whatever you had going for you before… that is over now.”

Negan clapped his hands together, sighing out in relief.

And strangely, you were slightly relieved, as well. Maybe he was done. He wasn’t going to kill any more of you. This was all over for now.

Right?

“Dwight,” said Negan. “Load him up.”

To your shock, Negan pointed Lucille straight at Daryl.

“See, he’s got guts. Not a little bitch like someone I know,” Negan told Rick. “I like him. He’s mine now. You still wanna try something? Not today, not tomorrow? I will cut pieces off of… what’s his name?”

“Daryl,” said Pornstache.

“Wow. That actually sounds just about right. I will cut pieces off of Daryl and put them on your doorstep! Or, better yet, I will bring him to you and have you do it for me.”

“No…” you croaked out, when Dwight grabbed your boyfriend and dragged him back to the truck as if he were a wild animal, crossbow pointed at his chest. Maggie sobbed from beside you. “No, Daryl… please, no, don’t—please don’t take him from me!” you cried. “Please, I need him… Daryl!”

Negan smiled down at you. “Mmh. Alrighty, then. I’ll take you, too. Come on.”

A gasp lodged in your throat when he suddenly grabbed your arm and yanked you upwards.

“No, wait, I’m the only doctor they have, they need—Maggie needs m—!”

“I don’t give a rat’s flying blue ass,” growled Negan, shoving you in the direction of the truck, where Daryl watched you with wide, scared eyes. You craned your neck around to look at Rick and Maggie and the rest of the group—your family—one last time, unsure of when, if ever, you’d see them again. “You’re mine now. Got a whole lot of shit you can do for me, that’s for sure, darlin’. Load ‘em up!”

One of the Saviors pushed you into the truck just as Negan yelled out, “Welcome to a brand new beginning, you sorry shits! I’ll leave you a truck. Keep it—use it to cart all the crap you’re gonna find me. We’ll be back for our first offering in one week. Until then… ta-fuckin’-ta.”

You collapsed straight into Daryl once you were inside, thundering sobs spilling from your lungs. He wrapped his burly arms around you, smelling of dirt and blood and motor oil. No words needed to be said. No words could be said.

The both of you had lost so much today.

And now… you’d lost your freedom, as well.

Daryl began crying into your shoulder, and you could only hold him all the tighter.

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throneofsmut · 2 months

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BOUND IN FLAMES - Part 9

Eris Vanserra × Archeron-Sister- Reader

Description: Feyre and her younger sister go hunting in the forest behind their family's cottage and go through life changing experiences.

A / N: I’m back !! sorry for being so inconsistent and inactive but i hope you guys like this part.

I didn’t realize I had fallen asleep, but it couldn’t have been for long because from the window in Eris’s cabin — our cabin — I could still see the night sky and lit bonfires in the distance. We were still in the same position we were in when we had finished fucking.

Me on top of him with him still inside of me.

Eris still had a hand on my hip while the other rubbed lazily across my back.

I slowly push up, my hands braced against his muscular chest, “How long was I asleep ?” I whispered, my voice still thick with sleep.

He didn’t respond, he only gave me a small smile and continued to rub his hands along my thighs.

“How long was I asleep ?” I asked again, and noticed a hint of red in his cheeks. “You were asleep too ?”

Eris let out a small laugh, “Until you started squirming trying to get more comfortable.”

I let out a small laugh of my own, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. You can go back to sleep if you want. I’ll wake you up before I go back.” Something like anger and pain seemed to flash across his face, his eyes, at the last four words he spoke.

“Before you go back… Under the Mountain ?”

He nods. Once. Tightly.

My hands cupped his face, making him meet my gaze, “I don’t want to sleep then. Let’s spend our last night together.”

Those amber eyes, his eyes, searched my face, for what I don’t know, but then he was kissing me. Wordlessly he pulled away and then he was carrying me to the bathroom and sat me atop the counter.

I watched him as he filled the tub with water, added soaps and oils to it. Grabbed bottles of hair products and towels before setting them on the chair near the tub then carrying me to the tub and placing me in it. He followed in right after and silently washed my hair and my skin. Placing soft kisses as he went and I did the same for him. When we were done he dried us off and then we dressed.

I was waiting for him to finish lacing up his boots and he caught me yawning, “Are you sure you don’t want to sleep, little flame ?”

“I’m sure,” I nod. “Do you have any food here ? I’m starving.”

“No, but, there is an orange grove and grape vineyard a mile back.”

I arch a brow, “What kind of grapes ?”

“Green.”

“Autumn or Spring ?”

“Autumn,” he smirks, “why ?”

“I haven’t had Autumn grapes in years and they’re my favorite.”

He laughs softly, “So, no, oranges ?”

“I mean, I love oranges too but, I don’t want to peel them. I hate how my hands feel after. And Autumn grapes are always crispy.”

He walks up to me, placing his hands on my hips, “I’ll peel them for you.”

But before I get a chance to respond he leads me out of the cabin and the crisp autumn night breeze hits my face. Eris puts his arm over my shoulders, tucking me into him and my hand fists the back of his tunic as if he’ll vanish. As he leads us down a trail, towards the vineyard and grove.

“So your favorite color is blue and autumn green grapes are your favorite, you love oranges. . . What else ?” Eris asks.

“What do you want to know ?”

“Anything. Everything.”

“I don’t know anything about you. So how about a question for a question ?” I offer.

“All right, fair enough.”

“What’s your favorite color ?” I ask.

“Red.”

I snort, “That’s not surprising.”

“Family ?” He asks.

“My mother died when I was young and my father doesn’t know about me… at least he acts like he doesn’t.”

My mate leans down and places another kiss atop my head, “I’m sorry, little flame.”

“Me too,” I whisper. “Anyways, what about you ?”

“My mother and father are both still alive. No sisters. Six younger brothers, but two died years ago.”

“Lucien told me about that. Where you. . . one of the ones—“

“One of the ones holding him down while his lover was executed ? No.” He looks over his shoulder, “Who do you think got word to Tamlin and slowed down my other brothers ?”

“Does Lucien know ?” I ask.

“If he does, he doesn’t show it.” He answers. “What about you, any siblings ?”

“No,” I breathe. “But, after my mother died, another family took me in and they already had three daughters. They became my family or the closest thing I had to one. The three of them were like my sisters — they are my sisters.”

“Older or younger ?”

“All older.”

“Are you close with them ?”

“Uh, no, not really. Just with the youngest one out of the three. The two oldest ones were closer to each other and the third one and I were closer.” I confess and some part of me wishes I had tried more to get along with Nesta and Elain. To get closer. Since I might not have the chance to later. “What about you and your brothers ? Are you close with them ?”

Eris lets out a bitter laugh, “Gods, no. When we were younger I tried to protect them from our father, before he could turn them into cruel, sick bastards—“

“Like him ?”

“Like him,” he nods. “Then when we got older, I had to keep them in check,” another bitter laugh, “while playing the cold, cruel and calculating heir of autumn.” He stops. Then moves to stand in front of me and struggles to meet my eyes. “You’re going to hear things about me, if you haven’t already and—“

“I’ve done things too,” I tell him. “And I’m going to do more.”

I’ve already made my peace with doing whatever I have to do to kill Amarantha and those who get in my way. For my mother, for the summer court faerie, for Lucien and anyone else she’s hurt. And for me.

“What are you talking about. . . what have you done ?” His large hands cup my face, tilting my head up, making me look at him. “Talk to me. . . please,” he says. Softly. Gently.

“We become monsters, to survive monsters.” I say deathly soft and Eris’s brows furrow as he searches my face for more answers, but it’s too late. I’ve already put on the cold mask I’ve worn for years.

“What happened ? What have you d— What are you going to do ?”

I shook my head, “I won’t ask you what you’ve done or what you’ll do and neither should you.” I hardly recognize my own voice. Except for the coldness of it. The sharpness of it.

Eris let go of my face and took one, two, three steps back. Away from me. Then he runs his right hand through his hair before covering his mouth with the back of it. He lets out a shaky breath, “Do you not trust me — did I do something ?”

As soon as the words leave his mouth, I look at him. Really look at him and realize that his hands are shaking, his heart is racing and his breathing is uneven.

He’s nervous. Scared.

Scared of what I’ll say and the fact that I haven’t said anything is only making it worse. I blink once and I can see myself through his eyes. My head is cocked in a way that is more animalistic than anything. Like a predator sizing up its prey. I blinked again and I was looking at him through my own eyes again.

I shook my head, “No, Eris, you haven’t done anything.” I tell him, hoping to soothe his nerves.

He let out a sharp breath. His hands have stopped shaking and his heart isn’t racing anymore. “So you don’t trust me.” He’s says it more to himself than to me.

“I never said that.”

“Then what is it ?” He says feigning nonchalance, but I can still hear the doubt lacing in his words.

“There’s no point in me telling you, when you’ll see it,” I admit.

He prowled closer to me until we were chest to chest, needing to crane my neck back to look him in the eyes because of our height difference. I forgot how tall he was — how powerfully built he was.

A muscle in his jaw feathered before he spoke, “If you’re not going to tell me what you’re talking about, then tell me something real.” Not a request, a command.

“I’m scared,” I whisper. His brows furrowed and his eyes widened, that wasn’t at all what he had expected me to say. “I’m scared of how you’ll feel when you find out about the real me. . . When you see the real me. Who I am.”

It’s no secret that none of the seven courts are really friends, but my mother used to tell me about how feared she and her brother were. Her twin. He is the most powerful High Lord in history and she is — was — the most powerful female in history. And how feared their inner circle was.

My mother was second in command to her brother. His third in command is more powerful than them but her power is different. Otherworldly. Their cousin is his fourth and she has the power of truth. The general of his armies and his spymaster are the most powerful Illyrian’s in history. Each needing seven siphons to hold the raw killing power they possess. And his spymasters is a shadowsinger.

I inherited my mother and her brother’s magic and then some from my father, but I had also been born with fire. I used to ask her why I had fire and she didn’t, if she was from Night and my father wasn’t from Autumn or the Day Court. And she would simply kiss the palms of my hands and say, “Is the sun not a star ?”

She always told me I was blessed by the Mother and the Cauldron for having so much power. But, as I got older I realized it was because I’d been born with a target on my back. Which was why she trained me the way she did.

I let out a few sharp breaths, trying to will away the tears pooling in my eyes, to no avail. “When you find out what I did and. . . what I’m going to do. What I can do. What I will do.” My throat working as I spoke my last fear, eyes squeezing shut, “I’m scared that you’ll die because of me. Just for being my mate. . . and I won’t be able to do anything about. ”

My eyes are still squeezed shut as I felt Eris gently, so gently, tuck my hair behind my now rounded ears. His fingers tracing the rounded curve of them so softly. And it’s all I can do to not flinch beneath his touch.

I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath until he whispered, “The real you. . . the real you, that has pointed ears.”

Not exactly a question, but I nodded my head anyways.

“Can you show me ?” His voice was gentle like his touch had been moments ago.

I shook my head, “Even if I wanted to, I can’t.”

“Can you tell me, why ?”

“It’s a blood spell.” My voice was barely audible, I only knew he heard me because of how close we were. “My mother made it so that only someone on her side of the family could undo it. I can’t do it.” I left out the part that there’s only one person alive in the entire world that could do and I don’t even know if he would do it. “I can show you my true form for a couple seconds, but the p—“ My voice trailed off as I remembered how much pain I’d felt when I showed myself to Raihn. How it intensified until it was all I knew. Until it nearly killed me.

“But, what ?”

Eris’s voice brought me back to the present and I shook my head, “But, the pain I’d feel, would be all consuming. Searing. So hot that it felt impossibly cold, until it killed me. . . I’ve only done it once before and was surprised I survived. I doubt I would survive it a second time.”

The only reason I survived then was because Raihn had channeled some of his power into me. And continued throughout the next couple days. Since the blood spell suppresses my powers. I can only feel that I still have my magic, but I can’t access it. Except for one, but it’s not much. It feels like a drop instead of a vast ocean like it used to.

“Why are you scared of how I’ll feel when I see you ? Did the blood spell affect your physical appearance ?” Eris asked.

I nodded my head, “I still look the same, but my coloring is different. This isn’t my true hair or eye color.”

“Do your sisters know ?”

“No,” I breathed, “and they’d probably hate me. For lying and being fae.”

“Look at me.”

I shook my head.

“Little flame, look at me.” His voice a plea and prayer.

So I did.

“Because you told me something real, I’ll tell you something real,” his throat bobbing, “You're capable of hurting me in ways I'm not sure you've even begun to fathom. I might be skilled enough to land a death blow, but you alone have the power to fucking destroy me. And I would let you because you are everything to me. Do you understand that ?” His voice raw with emotion.

“Yes,” I said softly.

I didn’t even realize I had started crying again until Eris was wiping them away. “I don’t care who you are or what you’ve done, you’re my mate. Mine.”

I had no more words for him — my eyes saying what I couldn’t put into words. A new sort of vulnerability as I laid myself bare for him. Eris. My mate. Mine. A challenge thrown down. Waiting to see how he would react.

Eris Pov:

How many others had run from this part of her, not being able to handle all that she is ? I hated them all merely for putting the question in her eyes.

I love her as she is. All that she is.

I wouldn’t run from her. No, I only met her stare as I let her see all of me too. Her throat bobbed before her lips curved up into a smirk. My eyes falling to her lips, tracking the movement and then back up to her eyes. Without even thinking my hands settled on her hips, her cheeks flushing from my touch, her pupils flaring.

I see you, I silently conveyed to her. And I like all of it.

Likewise, her smirk seemed to say.

Dragging my eyes from the smirk that made the floor a little uneven. I gripped her hips a little tighter with hands that were surprisingly shaky. Then my mouth was on hers. Claiming her.

I begrudgingly pulled away from her when my stomach growled, quietly cursing myself while she laughed at me. “Come on, let’s get the grapes and oranges.”

****

Eris winnowed us back to the cabin, his arms full of grapes and oranges along two plates piled with meat and sauce and bread, and a bottle of red sparkling wine — he said he would hold it all.

Eris was hesitant to take it, but Bayne — the owner of the vineyard and orange grove — insisted. I was the one that had knocked on his door. The last time I saw him I was eight years old, yet something like recognition flared in his eyes when he took me in. It took him a moment to respond when I asked if I could pick some grapes and oranges, but he said yes and went back into his home. So Eris and I went about picking them when he came out with two plates in hand. Startling when he saw I was with Eris.

It didn’t help that, Eris immediately stood between us. I walked around him, to hand Bayne a few gold coins — more than what was needed — but he had always been kind to me and my mother. He politely declined and insisted we take the plates. I inclined my head in thanks and took them, Eris’s voice cut between our silent interaction. “Why ?” he asked.

Bayne never took his eyes off me as he said sadly, “She reminds me of someone. . . of an old friend who passed a few years ago.” An old friend — my mother.

Eris didn’t say anything else as I handed him the two plates I was holding and placed the gold coins in his hand and thanked him again. Then Eris winnowed us back to the cabin. And we ate our plates in comfortable silence. I sat atop the kitchen counter and he remained standing, next to me.

He finished his plate before I did and kept true to his word. He silently went about rinsing the grapes and peeling oranges before plating them between us. And once I finished my plate, he took it and washed, before pushing the plate of fruit closer to me. I moaned at the taste of them and he laughed softly. “Good ?”

“So fucking good.” I said around a mouthful of orange, which earned me another mirthy laugh from him.

****

We had moved back to the bedroom, my head settled on his chest, his hand playing with my hair as the other rested on the small of my back.

I huffed as I looked out the window.

“What’s wrong, little flame,” he asked.

“It’s almost dawn,” I grumbled. Which meant it was almost time for him to go back Under the Mountain.

He kissed the top of my head, “We’ll see each other again. Soon.” He promised.

And he had no idea how true that was.

But, right now, I wanted him. No, needed him. I needed him. To feel him, incase I wouldn’t have the chance to again.

He didn’t stop me as I moved to straddle him. Not as I pulled at his tunic — a silent request for him to take it off, and he did. He didn’t say anything as I leaned down, kissing his lips, his neck, his chest. The only thing I heard was his heart pounding, when my fingers lightly skimmed where his skin and his pants met. I wasn’t sure he was breathing and just to see what he’d do, I palmed him through his pants.

Eris barked a curse.

I laughed quietly, kissing his chest again, and then swirled my tongue around his nipple, teasingly, letting him know what was to come.

And when I laid my palm flat on him again, “You’re mine,” I breathed.

Eris’s breathing started again, jagged and savage. Feral. I flicked open the top button of his pants. “I’m yours,” he ground out.

Another button popped free. Then the third, but then I felt him before I heard him.

Raihn.

“It’s nearly dawn,” his deep gruff voice sounded in my head. He was pissed and now so was I.

I growled and Eris just stared at me confused. I shook my head him and before I could tell Raihn to go back to the Manor, his growl shook the entire cabin and seconds later he had broke down the door and was in the bedroom. Snarling and baring his teeth.

It was all Eris could do to put me between him and the wall. His body a solid wall between me and the white wolf. Raihn’s eyes fell to the dagger Eris was clutching, his knuckles white from the grip. Then the wolf’s eyes tracked the hand Eris had placed on me protectively. Raihn cocked his head, his snout twitching once, twice, scenting us. Scenting Eris and he growled, baring his teeth in a snarl.

Eris readied himself for the massive wolf’s attack, but before he could do anything I snarled at Raihn, “I’m gonna kill you !” Raihn only growled in response.

Trying to make my way to him, but Eris was holding me back, Raihn noticed and took a step forward. He snapped at Eris in warning and Eris to his credit didn’t falter, he only readjusted his grip on his dagger. I rolled my eyes, pushing past Eris, standing right in front of Raihn, “I’m gonna kill you.” Pinching the bridge of my nose, “I told you to stay in my room, you know it’s not safe out here for you. They’re hunting you !”

He let out an annoyed huff.

“And you can’t just barge in like that, where are your manners ?” I scolded him like a mother would a child — my hands now on my hips — and he whined. I turned back at Eris, shaking my head at Raihn, and he was just gaping at me.

For other parts: Bound In Flames Series Masterlist

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8 part 10 part 11

Taglist: @historygeekqueen @cat-or-kitten @yeeyeebabe @khaleesihavilliard @impossibelle @sleepylunarwolf @cutie232 @meepmeep-318 @belledawnidk @fandomrejects @wasntpriscilla @brandywineeeee @consultinghuntresshasthetardis @thescooby-gang @annblvd @poetryinshadows @isa1b2h3 @tele86 @esposadomd @fabulouslyflamboyant5 @glaciuswduo @laceandsuch @hnyclover @spookyboogyuniverse @kennedy-brooke @minaethrym @lili-flower03

*If you would like to be added to the taglist for this story or to my general taglist, please either reply to this post or send me a message.

#a court of thorns and roses #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acotar smut #eris vanserra #eris vanserra acotar #eris vanserra fanfic #eris vanserra smut #eris vanserra x reader #eris acotar #eris fanfic #eris smut #eris x reader #bound in flames

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avidfics · 4 months

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Chasing you

Summary: You’ve been on the run from Carol after sending a drunk voicemail. A month later, Carol has found you and doesn’t plan to let you go.

A/N: Came out of a writing hiatus cause I love this woman. There’s not enough carol x reader fics on this app and she gives me the warm fuzzies. Comments and reshares are appreciated :)

Warnings: Pretty PG-13, playful teasing, fluff, some tears, few misspellings, mentions some characters from The Marvels

Three things were painfully obvious as you woke up. This wasn’t your bed. These weren’t your clothes. The “Space Girls Do It Better” sleeveless crop top didn’t belong to you.

Oh, and there was a fluffy, orange flerken licking its genitals ontop of your chest. A pretty deep cleaning by the looks of it.

“Um.” your voice croaked, the result of a long nap. “Mr. Flerken sir, I’m going to move you and place you on the floor-” Three tentacles shoot out from the confines of its mouth, wraps around a nearby metal dresser, and swallow it whole.

An audible nervous gulp can be heard from your throat. “New plan. Leave when it pleases you.”

Armed with the killer fluffball, you creep along the cramped halls of the spaceship and take in the colorful murals that are painted inconsistently through the halls. One reads vaguely familiar, “New Jersey.”

What’s a New Jersey?

In the back of your mind you have a nagging suspicion of the identity of the owner of the ship. But if you were right, then that would be a bigger problem than someone undressing you while you were unconscious.

You enter the main pilot room as a childlike scream jars both you and the flerken.

Kamala Khan’s wide eyed, all teeth smile shines from across the room. “OMG you’re awake!”

“God, no.” you groan. You plead to the heavens that this is all just a stress conjured dream even as the teenager morphs a hard light disk to propel her forward to tackle you into a warm hug. “Kamala, please tell me you're the owner of this ship and you’ve gotten your spaceship driver’s license early?

Her lips curve. “Sure.”

A relieved sigh depletes from your body.

“Sure, I missed you. But this is Carol’s ship. After you left she’s been tracking you for the past few weeks. We got an alert that you were involved in a bar brawl on the planet Aladna yesterday. When she found you, you were already beaten unconscious and bleeding from the attack. Carol scooped you up and took care of your injuries in the med bay.” Her signature dopey smile returns. “She nearly blasted the whole bar apart when she found you. It was epic.” she sighs with a faraway look.

Her smile wouldn’t be so bright if she knew you had no interest in being on the same planet yet alone on a small ship with her honored captain. Your frantic eyes start to scan every nook and cranny of the room. As if Carol would materialize from the launch keys at any moment. You drag Kamala to the control panel and start to hit buttons at random. “No, none of this is epic. Kamala, afraid we need to cut this reunion short. Drop me off at the nearest planet or station. Shoot, give me a space jumpsuit and I’ll simply float outside in outerspace. But I Can Not. Be. Here.”

Kamala gives a sly look at how you’re acting. “Carol said you’d try to jump ship once you woke up.” she smiles as she pets the flerken still in your arms. “Something about you being embarrassed over something moronic.”

And there it was. Until now there was a slim grasp of hope that Carol hadn’t known what you did but this just confirmed not only did she know but she wasn’t going to let it go. Goody. No way would you tell the whole story of how you’d gone out drinking with some Skrull girls because Carol was driving you crazy in her freaking halter tops. Then you found out she was married to a prince! Sure, it was only a political marriage but still the revelation made you want to punch something or someone. So drunk out of your mind, you left the most pathetic voicemail of all time sounding like a teenager with a crush. Talking about how she attracts you more than the rules of gravity. What was that! The voicemail ended with your declaration to take the prince of Aladna in a fight if that’s what it took to get her attention.

In your defense, she does like to fight. So you did punch someone…or several someones at the bar.

“It’s nothing.” you blink away the memory. “Carol didn’t have any right to kidnap me off the planet”

“Aren’t you a little old to be “kidnaped?” the dreaded voice calls out from behind you both.

You whip your head around, guilt written all over your face even as your jaw slackens at the hottest, yet fatigued, space hero in the galaxy.

But at the moment Captain Marvel just looked like Carol. A half smile gracing her lips even as she leans against the entrance. Bare arms out, another damn crop top that barely covers her belly button, and an empty space of tantalizing skin at her stomach before the top half of her supersuit hangs limp at her hips.

It was giving off duty lesbian about to repair an engine and it was making you absolutely feral.

Which is why you held the flerken outstretched in her direction.

“Not another step, Danvers.” you warn. “This flerkin here has taken a liking to me and isn’t afraid to defend me.”

Carol tilts her head and her full teasing smile tasks force, causing a full quiver in your heart.

Taking slow, meticulous steps toward you, not caring about the fur-covered danger dangling from your hands. “You’ve taken a liking to my pet, sweetheart?”

A spurtle of incoherent nonsense leaves your mouth. “It found me when I woke up. I even named him Ginger.”

“Real creative.” her deadpan sarcasm does not go unnoticed. “Put Goose down before he decides to eat you.” You get ready to fight the command but ‘Goose’ does a loud meow and you decide that’s him agreeing with his apparent owner.

Her eyes flicker to the noisy teenager next to you. “Kamala, go find another wall to destroy.”

“Aye aye, captain.” You make a desperate attempt to grab Kamala but the small betrayer just mouths “You’re in trouble.” before prancing away.

With Kamela’s exit the room is too quiet and the once spacious room feels tiny and empty, leaving only the bruising reminder of why you’ve avoided Carol for weeks. Sure, your friend can fly, shoot rays of energy from her fist, and literally crush you with her bare hands but none of that ever scared you. It wasn’t your physical body you were afraid she would break, but the fragile, sensitive heart you always protected. But then there was Carol with her small, gentle smile and her laughing eyes and a warm presence that made you want to be soft instead of sharp with pointy edges.

Under Carol’s gaze you were a giant raw wound that was left open and too exposed. You just knew Carol could see it.

Which is why getting off this ship was imperative. With a new, hardened resolve you turn around and commerce pressing every button in sight.

“You trying to order a pizza? Because there’s an easier way than having us crash into the nearest asteroid.” The pull of her voice is so strong after weeks of zero contact but you ignore it nonetheless. Not that it deters Carol. “But maybe your bad driving is a result of getting your ass whooped down on Aladna.”

She’s baiting you. Do not give in.

“I mean the fact that you got your butt handed to you by a group of people who normally only fight in song has to make you mad, right?” The silence in response finally gets to her as she stomps up to the dashboard controls and undos every button you’ve pushed in concession. Each time she reaches for a button near yours, fingers a centimeter from touching, you yank away and take a step away. She grunts in return and counters with another step closer.

Her next jap finally hits her mark with stinging precision. “Maybe next time you should ask the Prince for backup.”

A response fires out your mouth even as you slam your hand against a particular shiny button. “I had it handled, okay? That pretty boy prince might’ve impressed you somehow but his presence in a fight is as needed as yours is to me right now.” The lie turned your stomach and made you feel like Goose’s shit. “You had no right and no reason to take me off that damn planet because I had it covered. Just drop me off at the nearest planet.”

Carol could smell the lie a mile away. The words bounced off her chest. If anything she was trying to hide her arrogant grin at successfully getting your undivided attention, knowing it would make you more pissed. Which was always an adorable sight.

When her sources flagged a sighting of you on Aladna she’d left the spaceship at supersonic speed to reach you after hunting your trail down for the past month.

At first, friendship was all she needed. But time spent together on various missions gave her deeper understanding on how darn sweet you were despite scratching at anyone who tried to get close.

But once she clicked play on that cute, yet slightly violent, voicemail any vague restraints of being only friends were dashed. Now here you were, her prickly kitten, and she wasn’t going to be deterred by any of your rounded jabs.

Now here you stood. Causing internal issues to her ship's mainframe. Slight bruises marring your delicate skin. All reminders that you’d rather be dropped in outer space than occupy the same room with her. Well tough luck. Patience was never her strongsuit.

A blur out of the corner of your eye was the only warning before the sudden warm body surrounded you from behind. Two unyielding hands grasped yours in an attempt to halt any further error messages from appearing on the dashboard. “Are you not satisfied with my ship, sweetheart? Because you’re awfully determined to break it.” In another determined step she removes any space separating you two until her front is flushed against your back. Tense doesn’t begin to describe how rigid your body gets as you realize, to your detriment, she’s forgone a bra. Even the tiniest move from her causes her soft, malleable breast to move against your back. Your knees buckle even as you silently curse Carol for completely smashing the boundaries of your personal bubble.

Warm fingers grasp each of your hands and her thumbs caress circles on each hand that shoots straight to your flamed core. A whisper of her lips speaks into your ear, tingling all the way into your spine. “Six. There’s six bruises across your delicate body from that stupid fight. But you didn’t need me, huh?”

The touch and slight reprimand in her voice makes your body shiver. “T-that’s not what I meant.”

“Oh?” You peek behind to see her face as her fingers gently travel down your arm. Brows furrowed with an intense glare as she inspects your minor injuries in detail. “But that’s what you said, no?”

In an effort to clutch the last remaining shreds of your pride you squint up at her but end up lowering your glare. “Even if you helped me, that didn’t give you the right to take me off the planet.” you murmur. “And who changed my clothes!”

The gentle hand remains on your arm but the dark look is dashed away, replaced with a serene smile. “Obviously that was me. Like I would allow anyone else to get a peek at what’s mine.” she snorts. As if the idea was simply absurd.

All fight leaves your body at the new startling news that Carol, your Carol, just called you hers PLUS she’s seen you naked?

You gear up to start a rant but two arms twirl you around and hefts you up. Your legs and arms cling to her even as you yell at her to set you down.

Bullheaded Carol ignores you and instead leisurely walks to her pilot seat. As if this was just a normal Tuesday. When she plops in the driver seat, she settles your weight to straddle her hips. Immediately, you try to scramble away but she wraps her arms around you in a metal vise. That damn innocent smile returns. “The chast act ends now. Because I was prepared to let you go but then you left me this.” It’s like a slow motion car accident as she pulls her cell from her pocket and the dreadful voicemail is played at full volume.

Renewed vigor allows you to break out of her arms but you're too slow as one hand holds you in place on her lap. Making you listen to your drunk declaration of love.

The tears come as you're forced to helplessly listen, already anticipating the mockery that was soon to come, except Carol didn’t laugh. Instead, you felt soft, slow kisses press against your wet check, trailing your tears.

Carol nuzzling your neck is the only thing stopping your crying as you realize she wasn’t laughing. Her tired smile and fatigued smile returns. “You're so dramatic, kitten. Don’t ask me what “right” I have to kidnap you and bring you on our ship after you left a message like this for me.

Sensing you were no longer a flight risk, her hard grip releases your wrists. Instead, she traces your face, rubbing away your tear trails. “For now on, you're coming back and helping our missions, warming my bed, and if you start anymore bar fights you better finish them or have your girlfriend there to finish the job for you.”

For the first time in a month, a genuine smile graces your face. Brave enough to fully settle your weight on Carol’s lap, you grasp the nap of her neck to angle her lips for a kiss. When your lips finally connect a deep, dragged out moan leaves Carol’s mouth. Her hands slide up your thighs and squeeze your ass. “Don't run away again.” she warns.

“Aye aye Captain.”

#carol danvers x reader #carol danvers #captain marvel #captain marvel x reader #the marvels #carol danvers x female reader #carol danvers x you #carol danvers fanfiction #wlw

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anitalenia · 9 months

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𝓪𝓵𝓵 𝓶𝔂 𝓵𝓸𝓼𝓽 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮. ⊹ ۪ 𖥔 sukuna.

⋆˙⟡♡ 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ 𝒔𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒏𝒂 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒚𝒐𝒖 ℎ𝑎𝑑 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑖𝑡 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑙 ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑒𝑓𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑐𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘, 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒛𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒅. ˚୨୧⋆｡

┈ ᛫ ᤲ 𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔 ✦𓈒 𓆇 sukuna and you had something, could call it love, before you left him, but he was too obsessed with power, mad with the idea of being king again and killing all those Jujutsu high kids who always seemed to foil his plans. still, he came to you when he needed to, and you didn’t make any complaints. until one night he comes to you once more, realizing what he lost and missing what he had.

┈ ᛫ ᤲ 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒍𝒖𝒅𝒆𝒔 ✦𓈒 𓆇 sweet sukuna, injured sukuna, makeup sex in a way, soft + rough-ish sex, kissing + making out, hand around throat but not choking, lip biting, neck biting, shoulder biting, missionary position, kinda dom!Sukuna because obvi, hand holding during sex, back scratching, body worship kinda, pussy eating + oral fem receiving, clit stimulation, pet names such as rosie, pretty girl, pretty, dirty talk + nasty words, unprotected sex *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ minors do not interact | sexual content 18+

┈ ᛫ ᤲ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ✦𓈒 𓆇 sexual content 18+, mentions of killing, strong descriptions of blood, bloody wounds and broken-ish hearts. non accurate descriptions of fixing wounds that you definitely shouldn’t follow, plot holes and inconsistencies 🥰 a Japanese translation of a word that might not be accurate (I’m a white girlie what do I know about Japanese language), I use the word growl way way too much (but in my defense they need better synonyms)

┈ ᛫ ᤲ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆 ✦𓈒 𓆇 thank you for reading, I love me a grumpy baby sukuna 💕 I didn’t really write this one how I wanted to write it, but I didn’t want to just delete it all either, so here it is 😜🥲 also I didn’t really like the way I wrote the smut so oh well.

✧˖°.♡︎˙ᵕ˙⋆｡°✩ 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐀𝐘 night when Sukuna came to you; the wind was brisk and harsh like the black waves of an Arctic Ocean, the air frosty and sharp, stabbing into your delicate skin like pine needles. It whistled in your ears and pulled at your hair, biting into you in a fashion so familiar for the beginning of December. It burned the back of your throat every time you inhaled, your nose a raw pink color and your teeth chattering between fogs of warm breath. Your fragile skin was left prickled and shivering under the pale moonlight, the chill carving a path straight to your bones, swimming in your veins like ice water and making your blood run cold.

You had your arms wrapped around yourself in nothing but your silky black robe, quivering in the dim yellow light of your door step as you felt worry bleed into you, eyes straining in the darkness, scanning the dim street light, the snow covered lawn, the silent empty street, for the man your heart pounded so anxiously for.

It was that cold Friday night when Sukuna came to you, hidden in the dark shadow of night and smelling of copper and smoke, trudging through the white snow in blood stained footsteps and falling at your feet with a groan. He was pale and shirtless, covered in scratches and seeping wounds you weren’t sure he’d recover from; he was still so weak, born again but not yet risen to his full potential, vulnerable still; a fawn learning how to use its legs. Blood pearled through burned fingertips as he’d hold his injuries, claws dried in rich blood and his pink hair matted with frost and dirt.

You couldn’t stop the shocked gasp.

“Oh my god!”

You hurriedly grabbed at his forearm and waist — his soft skin cold as ice, ignoring his groans and growls as you’d use all your strength to help him stand up, your own bones rigid and fatigued as the cold crept up your spine and made goosebumps crawl over your arms and legs. Blood stained your hands and dripped at your feet, staining the concrete with rich red drops, your nose tingling and lips grimacing at the metallic smell of it.

“Those brats…” He growled lowly, blood spitting out on his chin and lips, a clawed hand gripping his waist where one of his worser injuries were, his other arm hung over your shoulder as you struggled to drag his limp body into the warmness of your small home.

You dragged him through the house, knocking over a vase in the process that shattered to the floor in several small pieces. The sound shocked you, but Sukuna’s pained moan shocked you worse as you managed to set him on your couch, as gentle as you could be, blood trailing on your wooden floor and soaking into the crimson red covers of your love seat.

Your own blood rushed through your ears as you quickly scampered off to your bathroom and gathered alcohol and rags, Band-Aids and towels, anything you thought could’ve helped him as his faint grunts and pained hisses could be heard throughout your hallway. You were sloppy, dropping things on the ground and leaving cabinets opened as you hurried back out to the living room.

“I’ll kill them, I’ll kill them all… all of those Jujutsu rats.”Sukuna spat out quietly, voice thick with rage and crumbling with pain, muttering more to himself than he was talking to you pointedly. You sighed at that, pity and concern creeping in your heart like sprouting flowers, walking over to where Sukuna lay and squatting down next to him.

You should’ve known this had something to do with Jujutsu High, it always did when he was this angry, this hurt. Still, you couldn’t help but be a little disappointed that Sukuna was still focusing on the same things, a madness taken over him that had him driving down the same endless myriad of roads that never lead the way he wanted them to. Things never changed with him, a hard lesson learned a long time ago.

He was laid on his back, one foot hanging off the edge of the seat and the other bent at the knee, leaned against the cushion. His hands were both on his stomach, where most of the blood seemed to come from, thick and red like paste, smeared over his skin. You almost felt dizzy looking at it. Sweat beaded at his hairline and dirt was smeared across his smooth skin and black markings, mouth twisted in pain and fangs poking out threateningly from between his red lips. Each breath was long and slow with disgruntled groans and hisses between ever so often.

You set your things down on the floor next to you, hands shaking and dried with blood splatter. Sukuna opened his four red eyes with a grimace at the sound of it, looking down at you as if you were something unfamiliar, a stranger to a frightened animal, distrusting and hesitant.

You looked back up at him, brow raised and eyes narrowed at the incredulous hesitance stained in his own eyes.

“Don’t give me that look. You came to me.” You pointed out softly, giving him a stern look that had him stubbornly glaring back at you with a frown.

The faint whisper of candle flame could be heard as you ignored the urge to roll your eyes at Sukuna, knowing this was a sensitive time for him and knew it was in your best interest not to ruin his mood any further.

The dim golden light of your living room, lit by the glow of firelight and candles, exaggerated the sharpness of Sukuna’s face, accentuated the shadow of his muscles and the redness of his eyes. You were almost distracted by the beauty of it, but you knew better than to be.

“Don’t be such a brat, I’m not in the mood.” He grumbled, his eyes closing once more as he leaned his head back slowly on the puffy red cushion; a pain throbbing in his temples. You didn’t bother arguing with him, just giving him another docile, sympathetic sigh as your eyes ran over his face with a gentle fondness.

A few beats of silence buzzed between you as your eyes ran over his cuts and burns, soaking in the rare sight and battered appearance of such a strong curse like Sukuna, a man (thing) who, as long as you’ve known him, had never been one to lose to anything. You knew that fact hurt him all the more, knowing a simple group of sorcerers seemed to always get the best of him.

Your eyes lingered on the gash on his stomach, his burned fingertips, ears intently focused on every pained breath and wheeze that left his lips. Worry pulled at your heart like it was plucking strings, thrumming through your blood and making your throat close up, looking back up at Sukuna with a particular agony of your own.

“What happened, ‘una? Who did this to you?” You spoke quietly in the dim golden light, a frown on your lips as your eyes burned with tears, a consequence of your worry. You could hear the wind rattling the trees from outside, harsh snow coming down now and melting into your windows.

You knew Sukuna didn’t adjust well to emotions, especially tears, but seeing him so mad and in so much pain it made your chest heavy with unknown guilt and sadness, a pit in your stomach that made you feel sick. You felt the need to help him despite his despair being his own stubborn fault. You always did, you couldn’t help it — a flaw really, you always cared too much for things that didn’t deserve it.

He opened his eyes once more, slowly, his red hues running over your face and observing the sad pull of your pink lips and the wet sheer in your sparkly eyes. He could admit to himself that he hated seeing you like that, seeing you sad for him. He didn’t like pity, didn’t appreciate sympathy; he was higher than the minuscule emotions that plagued humanity, the very existence of his own power and grandness going beyond the scale of human morality. But with you, he couldn’t deny that it was for a different reason entirely.

Sukuna could see that you were genuine; he faltered when he was about to snap out a rude response (from instinct more than anything), but when he saw the concern in your doe eyes he couldn’t help but swallow down his disrespect, eyes narrowed at you and his jaw clenched tightly, as if swallowing his own anger.

“That white-haired devil. He knew I’d be there somehow, brought those idiot children… I should’ve seen it!” He growled once more, looking away from you as the memory of earlier that evening played in his mind, a rage burning through him that distracted him from the pain, eyes furiously blazing with something murderous, his sharp teeth bared and a bloody mix of saliva trailing down his cheek in a sheer pink line as his veins throbbed. You felt your own fear jolt through you that had your muscles tense up and skin prickle, never seeing Sukuna so angry before, much less having seen him lose a fight.

“Shhh, you need to lay down, your wounds!” You instinctively put a hand on Sukuna’s shoulder when he tried to pick himself up, a clenched groan escaping his twisted lips when he bent his midsection. You pushed him back down rather roughly when he resisted your strength, eyes widened at the groan of pain that sounded from him.

“Okay, listen, I know you’re angry, but you’re hurt, and that’s more important than whatever revenge scheme you’re coming up with right now.” You scolded, exasperated, Sukuna looking at you like you had just struck him.

“Besides, you wouldn’t win any fight in the state you’re in anyway.” You mumbled quietly, taking your hand off an offended Sukuna who growled in response, turning your head and grabbing your damp rag from the mess of supplies next to you.

“Of course I’d win.” He grumbled almost childishly with that deep, scratchy voice of his, looking you up and down with a disgruntled expression.

You felt an amused smile pull at your lips, a chuckle bubbling in your throat at his stubborn behavior.

You looked back up at Sukuna with the rag in your hand, looking into the embers of his eyes as you spoke softly, “Of course you would. Now move your arms, I need to clean the blood off of you, your stomach got the worst of it…”

Sukuna stared at you, eyes narrowed slightly as they ran over your face, from your hair flowing down your back, to your eyes looking at his stomach anxiously, to your pink lips, pale and dry. He even noticed the blood on your robe, the dried patches on your collarbone and wrist. His eyes lingered on the robe though, familiarity striking him as he zoned in on the stitched red letters of 薔薇 (rose), right above your heart, just below your collarbone.

He stared at it, a fond memory surfacing in his brain that had him short circuiting, eyes looking back up at your face as he cocked his head at you with a glare, a growl gurgling in the back of his throat like it was your fault that he felt the way he did.

He felt something incredibly unfamiliar swirl in his stomach and claw at his heart; a mix of guilt, of anger, for getting that damned robe so dirty with his own sweat and blood.

“What is it?” You asked, always so concerned. You furrowed your brows, noticing the distant look in his eyes as he stared at you, his lips still twisted and eyebrows pressed together like your very face caused him great anguish.

“Why do you always have to leave? Why can’t you stay? Forget about those Jujutsu High people, just stay with me…”

“I can’t. Not until they’re all dead. Not until their blood is dripping down my hands and flooding the streets of this wretched city. Not until I’m King again. Once they’re gone there will be nothing in my way, nothing to stop me from having my throne, nothing that can come between me and my full power. Once I have that, I will have everything, nothing will ever be able to stop me again.”

“…is that really all that matters to you?”

You looked over Sukuna’s face with a pink blush at the awkwardness of it all, his crimson eyes, hard and piercing, boring into you with an aggrieved frown; the memory of something now unattainable playing behind those eyes of his that you knew nothing about. You felt anxiousness run through your blood as you placed a strand of hair behind your ear, somehow embarrassed at the way he was just staring at you.

“Sukuna, what’s the problem, are you okay?” You laughed nervously, like a doting school girl in the way he used to make you giggle so much, your eyes flickering between the rag in your hands and his stare; you were never able to make eye contact with him that long, he always flustered you too much.

But, you supposed, it was wrong to dwell on those things now.

Sukuna’s eyes danced between yours some more, watching and remembering like he was staring into a glittering pair of nostalgic television sets. His lips, tinged with blood splatter and chapped with dry skin, were set in an irate frown as those same guilty, unfamiliar, feelings swirled in his chest like a wicked brew, but also… something else. Something worse, something more painful, something dull but vibrant that burned through his conscious like a twinkling star.

“You still have that, huh?” He groused with that deep voice of his, voice thick but still remaining disinterested, his bloody hand moving up from his stomach (where strings of blood snapped between his palm and him) as his sharp claw poked at the red letters on your heart.

You furrowed your brows at what he meant, glancing down to where he poked you when the red stitching caught your eye and it all just made sense.

You faltered for a moment as your mind flashed back to the same moment his must’ve, staring down at it as a melancholic feeling settled in the pit of your stomach at the memory. Yes, you had never gotten rid of it, a pathetic attempt to hold on to you as it was the only thing I had left besides the pain you left behind. You looked back up at Sukuna with a solemn expression, your eyes flickering between his in uncertainty and sadness for a moment before you looked back at his stomach.

You really needed to fix that already.

“Um, well yeah. It was a gift, remember?” You gave him a small smile as you glanced back up at his eyes, the need to cry suddenly very real and heavy on your chest. You didn’t want to tell him the truth, tell him you missed him, and that for the first few weeks after he left it still smelt of him, smelt of smoke and cinnamon, rosemary and clary sage.

You couldn’t find the strength in yourself to throw it away even after the smell faded, nor could you stop the anger that flooded you every time you saw it. It was the only thing you had left of him besides the heartache, but at least that was invisible with the potential to be ignored. Not the robe, that was something physical and very much existent that just reminded you that you weren’t as okay as you made yourself believe.

Honestly, you hadn’t realized you were wearing it, damning yourself for buying one so similar.

Sukuna didn’t respond to that, just stared at you with a vexed expression like you were some riddle he couldn’t figure out, some ingredient he couldn’t taste, and it pissed him off. Still, he couldn’t help it when he reached back over and traced his finger over the red stitching, brows furrowed and eyes burning, his black claw scratching against it as he felt your body freeze underneath him. He could feel your heart beating rapidly under his finger, a spot of blood smearing over the letters from his bloody hand.

“Sukuna! Oh my god, I love it! But now I feel bad, i didn’t get you anything…”

“eh, don’t make it a big deal, alright?… But you like it, huh?”

“I love it, I love it love it love it!”

“Mm, good. How about you try it on for me, princess? Then give your King a proper thank you…”

“Okay, I will. But, seriously, thank you. I’ll always wear it. I love it.”

“Yeah, yeah, you better, you brat…”

Sukuna retracted his hand slowly, the silence between you heavy and buzzing with all those feelings you didn’t want to share, all those memories you didn’t want to think about. Your lips tightened as you looked over his face for some reflection of what he was thinking, your skin tingling at just the feel of his finger tracing your heart. You wondered if he could feel how quickly it beat for him, but knew that of course he did.

You swallowed nervously, adjusting your robe to cover the area of skin he had accidentally exposed. The stain of blood on the red lettering didn’t go unnoticed to you. It was painfully ironic.

Sukuna took your distraction as his outing, his eyes dropping from yours as he grunted and laid his head back on the pillow. He didn’t want to think about that, his mood already well and soured. Still, he couldn’t help the way his stomach tightened with a newfound sickness — sick with his choices? Most definitely. He closed his eyes and adjusted himself so he was more facing the cushion than you, an annoyed quirk on the edge of his sharp lip that let his white fang peek out.

He hated all these goddamn feelings. They were confusing and they hurt, hurt worse than any wound on his physical being that a mortal could give him.

“Hurry up, will ya? I’m tired.” He spoke in that annoyed tone like you were nothing more than a hassle for him, a pest he was shooing away. You frowned at that, the moment you two shared, dare you even call it that, now in shambles at your knees as you rolled your eyes at him in newfound annoyance; not just for his careless attitude, but also for making you remember.

“You know, you should really be nicer to me, I’m the only one who helps your grumpy ass.” You mumbled rudely, but just as honestly, scooting closer to the couch and reaching over to grab Sukuna’s wrist from where he was still covering the bloody wound. You moved it a little, grimacing at the way the blood had dried and was sticky all over his abdomen, smeared over his abs and sitting heavy in your nose like an essential oil.

You were just thankful the blood had stopped coming.

Sukuna flinched when you grabbed his wrist, his body tensing as he released a small growl like he was some feral dog. You could almost laugh at it if he didn’t irritate you so fucking much; you couldn’t believe he was still so stubborn despite always depending on you to help him. It made annoyance seep through your bones, more so than ever before.

“You need to move your arm or I won’t be able to clean it. You’re the one who wanted me to hurry up, aren’t you?” You sassed, having no patience for his attitude like you did earlier, raising a brow at him to dare him to try and rebuttal.

Sukuna glared at you despite knowing you were right, not appreciating his words (or your attitude for that matter) being thrown back at him. He relaxed his muscle though after a short stubborn moment, his hand going soft in your grasp so you could move it away.

“Be gentle. It hurts.” He hissed at you like a troublesome child when you went to move his arm again. You slowly raised his arm (but not before giving him a sour expression to show your distaste), with as gentle as a touch as you could muster, and carefully set it off to the side. He raised it to his head and set it behind him, propping his head on his arm as he stared down at you untrustingly.

You sighed in exasperation, giving him a look between annoyed and even more annoyed as you leaned over and gently ran the rag over the dried blood surrounding the wound. You realized the blood made it look a lot worse than it was; a simple deep cut that was mostly likely caused from some sort of weapon. You were curious on the details of what exactly happened, but you most certainly knew better than to ever ask him.

A few moments of silence passed as you washed away at the blood, red droplets running down his sides and most likely staining your loveseat. You were glad it was red, a purchase made shortly after meeting Sukuna as there were plenty of nights spent just like this one. The white rag quickly became tinged with pink, but some spots were harder to scrub than others from where the blood had crusted for so long on his skin.

You glanced up at Sukuna, where his eyes were now closed but his mouth was still twisted into a grumpy scowl. You would say he looked a little cute, like a pouting puppy more than a murderous curse, but no, you weren’t going to say that nor admit it to yourself. It was always hard to keep those thoughts away; your mind had become so consumed with him when you were together that it was hard to just forget about him now.

You looked back down, hoping Sukuna wouldn’t notice when you pressed down just a little harder, only a little on a stubborn patch of blood by his belly button. Of course, you just as soon regretted it as Sukuna’s clawed hand came down quicker than you could think and snatched at your fist with a pained hiss.

“I said gentle, woman!” He spat, viridian eyes enraged and sharp teeth glistening under the dim orange light. Your eyes widened in initial shock before they glared down at where his hand was gripping yours. You hissed at the tight hold on your knuckles, snapping your head at him. The genuine pain swirling in his irises did little to subdue your own anger.

“Oh my god, okay!” You exclaimed in utter frustration, snatching your hand out from under his with a scoff and a shake of your head.

Sukuna let out an almost threatening sound from the bottom of his throat, glowering at you for a few moments like you had just hurt him personally. Still, his eyes couldn’t help but wander to the way your hair fell around your shoulders; you’d always been beautiful, far more beautiful than he ever really deserved. He stared at you a little longer than he should have, thankfully unknown to you. Looking at you like this only made him feel like shit, remembering what he had done.

It made him feel sick and lost; at the way he treated you and yet you stuck around. Had you really loved him? You must’ve, you always stayed when in reality you should’ve left long ago. Even now, you always helped him despite how he treated you, Sukuna wasn’t blind to it. He saw you roll your eyes at him and this mournful feeling settled heavy in his heart (when had he gotten one) — he was still grieving over the loss of you and he didn’t think he’d ever get you back.

Sukuna gave you one last glare for being so damn distracting before he relaxed once more in the love seat. You have managed yet again to bring out these feelings in him that made him want to throw up and he hated it. He laid flat on his back, wincing as he did, clenching his jaw and letting out a low snarl at the predicament he was in.

You settled down yourself, letting out a huff as you glanced back up at him in exasperation. You couldn’t believe the temper he still had, you even found it mildly amusing. You looked back at his abdomen, where pink water droplets dripped from your hand and down his side. You resumed gently washing away at the blood coating him, “All that time to yourself and you still haven’t fixed those anger issues it seems…”

Sukuna’s eyes snapped open at that, his ears picking up the end of your grumbled sentence.

“What’d you say, brat?” He hissed with a dark glare, looking down at you with an expression of utter offense at your statement.

You glanced up at him, your eyes running over that familiar face with a smile you couldn’t stop from stretching over your lips. Your eyes ran over his scowl, the fierceness of his glare, a small giggle bubbling in your throat. You put your head back down and continued rubbing the blood off of him as though he couldn’t see the wide, bemused smile on your lips.

Sukuna instantly felt confused at your reaction, his eyebrows furrowing as he stared down at you with a dumbfounded expression.

“What’s so funny? Why are you laughing?” He scoffed at you, like he was offended that he was the only one not in on your joke, glaring at the way you only seemed to laugh just a bit harder at him. His eyes were immediately drawn to your lips, the curve od your smile and the sweet sound of your laugh that seemed to make his heart pound in his ears. He glanced at your grin then back to your eyes before you could notice.

You bit your lip to stop the giggles, smiling through your teeth as you glanced up at him and his confused (hilarious) expression.

“Oh, nothing. Just lay back down.” You sighed whimsically, smiling to yourself as you went back to cleaning the blood off of his waist, albeit not as concentrated as you were before — a way to distract yourself from looking back up at him. It was something though, of course it was something, but it was also something you most definitely didn’t want to talk about. You’d hoped he’d ignore it, but of course he wouldn’t.

Sukuna scowled at you, grabbing at the rag in your hand and ignoring the sting of pain that shot through him as he leaned forward towards you, his shadow crossing your face.

“Tell me, I demand it.” He ordered, his hold tightening on your hand as his glare worsened.

You had froze when he grabbed you, almost embarrassingly so, your eyes lingering on his hand that was conjoined with yours (always bigger and full of so much power) for a moment before you cleared your throat of any remaining laughter. To this day, he could still make you feel so nervous.

“Oh, you demand it, huh?” You almost laughed at that as you looked back up at him, eyes quickly finding his in the daze of candle smoke and blood. You staggered for no particular reason, missing the way he always used to look at you. You managed to compose yourself though as a wide, amused smile at his dramatics pulled on your lips instead. He couldn’t help but linger on it, hand still on top of yours like you both weren’t aware of it.

Sukuna couldn’t help the irritated sound that fell from his lips, rolling his eyes at you before giving you a really look (it only made you smile harder at him).

“Oh, it’s nothing. It’s just… whenever we were together you would always get so offended when I would say anything about your anger issues. It’s just funny that it still bothers you, that’s all.” You smiled fondly — bitterly, at the memory of it, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly as though speaking of it didn’t affect you as much as it really did.

Truth was, of course it affected you. It was just supposed to be a fleeting thought, a fleeting memory shoved to the surface that was quickly drowned. But he just had to know, and now it was all you could think about. It made your heart sink, sadness filling in your chest cavity like syrup, thick and heavy and bitter in your blood.

The smile slowly fell from your face as you looked back down at his wound, which was slowly healing itself. You looked at his hand, which was still tight around yours (having to fight the urge to turn your palm and intertwine his fingers with yours). You couldn’t bare to see the look on his face at your response, feeling embarrassed for being so vulnerable so quickly, feeling embarrassed that you spoke with him like he was nothing but a friend. He wasn’t a friend to you, he wasn’t supposed to be anything anymore. But he was and it was silly of you to try and disregard that fact.

You knew he was more, he was always more, so here you were, blushing and smiling like he was still with you, like he wasn’t here to use your services then leave as he did every few months. You were silly and love drunk, blissed out on the memories and the hope of his return. It was ridiculous. Yes, You missed him — you absolutely hated to admit that fact but it was blaring in your head, obvious and flashing, obvious in the way you cared for his wounds every time he came, obvious in the way you welcomed him back in time and time again. It was so painfully obvious you still hoped for him, and these little visits of his did nothing but ruin you more.

You sighed as your eyes started to burn, hand clenching the rag for dear life to try and stop them from coming. You had to be stronger than this, strong like all those times you’d seen him before in the year and half he’s been gone.

Sukuna stared at you for a while, his grip loosening on your hand as he thought about what you just said.

Whenever we were together.

He felt bad, to put it simply. He didn’t ever think he’d miss you, a mortal, like he has. He didn’t ever think he’d need you, a mortal, at his side when he became King again, he didn’t ever think he’d need anyone. He was Sukuna, King of the Curses and one of the most powerful beings on earth. He could have any woman he wanted, absolutely anything he desired, he was just that powerful. He knew that when he met you, the only sorcerer to never try to kill him, the only girl he’d ever faltered for.

When did he lose sight of that? He was evil, he wasn’t meant to live or love but here he was, already having lived and loved beyond what he was meant to. Loved? Loved. He did love you but he always loved power more, he loved you but… he screwed it all up and you left him. He thought he was fine with that, thought that you were just a waste of time he granted his attention to, a speck in his endless story of immortality and struggle, but then you left and he didn’t have you anymore. Was power ever really worth it compared to you? He was alone, but wasn’t that what he wanted in the first place? He didn’t need anyone, didn’t need you, a mortal, to be by his side when he took his throne at the flames of the world.

That’s what he thought.

But then you left him like any self respecting woman would have and he had missed you, missed you so much more than a curse like him was supposed to feel. He missed your smile and your hands, your touch and your pretty eyes. He knew he wasn’t the best man around, never treated you quite fairly and always considered you second to his crown, but it didn’t take him long after your disappearance to realize how foolish that was. It wasn’t his strength that made him dinners at night, it wasn’t money that kissed him on his cheek and held his hand, and it wasn’t power that loved him like you did.

He knew he had lost sight of what was most important, he knew that but he was too stubborn to admit it to anyone, even himself, especially you. He had been chasing a fantasy, an idea, when you were right there all along. He was so stupid, but he was greedy and selfish above all. He wanted you but he wanted power, and you proved that he couldn’t have both.

What was he doing here? Why did he always come to you when he needed help? Why did he ever let you leave and why did he keep using you like this? Really he had no one else to turn to, and if he did die he wanted it to be with you, in your arms or by your hand. It was sappy and sentimental but it was the truth. Yes, he was evil, he was supposed to be evil, take what he wanted and use what he needed with no care for others.

But you… he couldn’t be that way with you even when he first met you. You had softened him up, but it still wasn’t enough to change him completely. He still craved endless strength and reign above all, after all he was created to kill anything that got in his way. He needed to destroy and plunder, do the sins he was born to do and burn the world to ashes.

But… he didn’t want to do any of that without his queen by his side. Why was he doing this? Why was he doing this to you? All these questions and no answers, a year and a half of hopelessness and loneliness, a year and a half of chasing something that would never satisfy him like you did; teetering on the edge of a cliff but never quite falling in. He wanted to with you. Fall into that dark abyss of uncertainty and fear with your hand in his, just as it was intended.

He didn’t necessarily plan on admitting that tonight though, but seeing you with that damned robe on and your hair so shiny and smooth the way he liked it… he could feel his resolve slipping away like warm honey. Damn, he really did miss you.

And now, you just had to go and say that and make him feel even worse. When we were together…

Ryomen Sukuna clenched his jaw at the weight behind that simple statement, his eyes running over your face for any sign of the pain he knew you felt inside — or what he could see of it through the strings of your hair.

He left the hand that was on top of yours there, almost squeezing it underneath his in an uncharacteristic effort of intimacy. He heard you let out the quietest sniffle, his chest caving in as his eyes flickered worriedly around your frame. He felt a need to comfort you pull at his dark heart, but he wasn’t quite sure what to do and felt utterly powerless.

He shyly brought his other hand up, hesitant, not wanting you to flinch away from him, not wanting to scare you off.

The silence was almost too much to bear between you as you refused to look at him, feeling weak and stupid for bringing it up.

Sukuna delicately laid his palm on the back of your head, his skin stained with his blood and crusted to his claws. You didn’t move when he touched you, very gently stroking your hair once you didn’t move away from him. He clenched his jaw, wanting to grab more of you from just that small touch alone.

You closed your eyes at the feeling, savoring the tingles on your scalp with every brush of his hand. You thought it was kind of sweet of him, his own way of comforting you that was already so uncomfortable for him to be doing. You were grateful for it, slightly leaning into the warmth of his touch, not caring about the dried blood on his fingers.

Sukuna let it be silent for a few soft moments, relishing in the feeling of you under his palm again.

“You should go to sleep, brat. I‘ve got the rest.” He mumbled in that aggressively caring (but somehow nonchalant) way that he does. You just appreciated the fact that he was trying at all.

You hadn’t heard that tone in a long time; it raised goosebumps on your skin that had a small smile gracing your lips. It was well needed and washed over you like a velvet curtain.

You were tired, but you didn’t want to leave him by himself like this, leave him to clean his own wounds (although they were his own), but you cared too much to ever leave him alone, another reason why you always so graciously helped him when he wanted you to. Besides, you didn’t want to leave him injured like this, bleeding on your couch and covered in dirt, knowing he still needed help despite not saying it.

You raised your head up to look at him, your eyes and cheeks tinted a soft shade of pink.

“Are you sure? I can do this for you, I don’t mind it, you know that.” You protested, his nails scratching into your head in a tingly way that made your eyes droopy.

He gazed back at you with a softer expression, one that made you weak and doting at his bedside. You missed when he’d look at you like that, like he really cared about you more than his dreams of world domination. His eyes looked over your face, the need to bring you closer sizzling and suffocating, so much so you almost thought he would (hoped he would). He kept his hand in your hair, but the petting stopped the longer you looked at him, a sudden intimacy soft in the air between you as you looked into his eyes.

He frowned at the look on your face, almost pitiful, the aftermath of a few quiet tears you’d hoped he didn’t notice (he always knew).

“Go.” He spoke quietly, voice deep and rumbly like brittle mountains that made a shiver crawl up your spine. It made your mouth dry at the intensity of his gaze, your chest fluttering at the unnecessary kindness. You wonder what changed. You sighed at the silent demand in his voice, wanting to stay, but judging from the daring way he raised his eyebrow at you you knew it was futile to argue.

“Fine. But don’t move too much, and don’t clean any of this, i’ll get it tomorrow. Just try to get some rest now okay? You need to heal. Those wounds are worse than the other ones you’ve had.” You ordered gently as you raised yourself off your knees — they popped as you did so, and set the rag on the table. Your hands were a little bloody as well, knowing you looked almost a big of a mess as he did. Sukuna’s hand fell off your head as you rose, his nails lingering on a few strands of hair until they fell from his reach.

He put his hands behind his head and looked up at you, his eyes gazing over your form in a way he wasn’t able to before. Could say it was a form of admiration, but you didn’t want to reach. You glanced back at him, at his chest and abs that were sharp and bloody in the golden light of the living room. You scolded yourself, knowing you really shouldn’t be looking at him in that way.

“Yeah, yeah. I think I can handle it.” He rolled his eyes at you, words full of sarcasm and dismissal. You gave him a sarcastic smile back, taking a step forward and leaning down towards him to adjust the pillow behind his head. You were grateful that the both of you mutually decided to just forget about the moment that happened just mere seconds ago, you couldn’t handle the embarrassment that would come with his teasing.

Sukuna looked up at you as you leaned towards him, his eyes curiously looking up at yours, head almost titling up towards you. You ignored his proximity, the smell of rosemary and smoke on your nose that masked the heavy scent of pennies in the air.

You swallowed when you looked at his lips, then back to his eyes, flustered now at the way he seemed to have expected you to do something else.

You cleared your throat, awkwardly fixing the pillow behind his head. He looked at your own lips, your hair falling around his head and tickling his shoulders. He felt his heart race, the urge to reach up and just take your lips in his strong and burning in his chest.

“Whatever you say.” You mumbled between his face and yours before quickly turning around, a blush on your cheeks and a heat lingering on your skin.

Sukuna watched as you started walking towards the hallway, intent on taking a shower to wash the blood off yourself, eyes glued to you as disappointment sunk in his chest at the missed opportunity. He clenched his jaw in frustration, looking at how pretty you were in candlelight.

You stopped at the corner of the hall, your cheeks burning as you tried to catch a breath of false confidence, not wanting him to see how easily affected you were by him even after all this time. It was almost pathetic how quickly he could make you blush. You inhaled, face covered by the corner of the wall so he couldn’t see you, then exhaled in an attempt to calm your heartbeat.

You turned your head, noticing how he was already staring at you with dark eyes. You looked back at him, wanting to say so much more than you should, an ache in your chest that pained your heart at seeing him again.

“Goodnight, pinkie.” You smirked at him, knowing how much he hated when you called him that. It was just a silly nickname you always called him when you were together, a tease to his pink hair that started from the beginning of the relationship. You weren’t sure if you should’ve said it but you needed something to break the tension you could feel weighing down on your shoulders.

Shockingly, Sukuna didn’t glare at you like you thought he would have, like he usually would have. His expression was blank and unreadable, dare you say heartfelt at the way his eyes softened so uncharacteristically, looking back at you with a hard stare. You swore you could feel the air get warmer.

“Goodnight, Rosie.”

You faltered as you turned back around to leave, your hand coming up to your chest like he’d just snatched the air out of your lungs.

Rosie.

He hadn’t called you that since he loved you, or so you thought he did. It was something so simple but so important, a small detail among the bigger picture that made your heart flutter; you couldn’t believe he even remembered that, that he cared enough to call you it again.

You couldn’t stop the smile that spread over your lips like a lovesick fool, giddy and bashful as you walked to your room with confusing thoughts in your head.

Goodnight, Rosie.

Sukuna had taken a shower shortly after you retired to your room, the heat much needed on his cold skin as blood and grime swirled down the drain in a spiral of red and black. He stared at it blankly, hot water washing over his bruised body and unveiling all the cuts he didn’t even know were there, bathroom steaming with a thick smog that fogged up the mirror and the space around him.

He was thinking about you then, lost in a trance, thinking intently about you and your smile, thinking about how it used to shine for him but now it only shined at the memory of him — he should’ve appreciated that as that was enough, it should have been enough for him as it would’ve been for any man who betrayed the woman they loved. He was lucky he was still a sore memory and not a bitter regret, he was lucky you still even smiled around him at all. He was lucky now just as he’d been lucky before, but he wasn’t as foolish now as he was then either.

He had been thinking about this for some time actually, just a few months after the loneliness and heartbreak had really settled into his bones. It took a while, but eventually he couldn’t deny the stiffness in his joints and the heavy weight on his chest, the feeling of your loss crushing his rib cage and suffocating him.

Even these little pathetic visits of his were a lame excuse for the real reason behind why he wanted to see you; but it still surprised him that you never turned him away, not even the first time he showed up at your door with bloody knuckles and bruised skin. You most certainly weren’t as hospitable as you are now, barely gave him a blanket to sleep with after you threw a rag at him. Still, you never kicked him out and he’d wake up with the blanket wrapped around him anyway.

It was a sweet, short lived moment before he’d have to leave again.

You were always so sweet, sweeter than you gave yourself credit for. Sukuna always loved and loathed that about you; you were too trusting sometimes despite knowing the dangers of the real world — but then again Sukuna was the most dangerous thing of all, what could possibly scare you now? You were too sweet and it contradicted him greatly; he always considered himself rude… rude and harsh, apathetic to life’s many sorrowful woes and uncaring for measly mortal lives. Humanity was a pest to him, a cockroach nibbling on the crumbs of his successes. You of course, didn’t necessarily share that same vision.

You made him soft, even he knew that. You made him care less about them and more about you, but never quite enough to make him forget about his true love for ultimate power. You had made him soft yes, turned his sharp edges into curves yet you couldn’t change his dire need for bloodlust. That, you didn’t mind. You knew who Ryomen Sukuna was, knew he wasn’t some docile little puppy that would hang on to your every whim and argument. He was murderous but not so much when he was with you, and that was all you really wanted.

Come to think of it, you never truly tried to change him at all. You’d be disappointed sometimes sure, but never once did you say he was wrong, or that he shouldn’t do this and he shouldn’t do that. In anyone’s eye you were perfect; a pretty little queen who gave her King anything he asked for for one simple thing in return. His love.

Sukuna gave you that but… he didn’t at the same time. He was younger then though, a freshly reanimated curse still hellbent on revenge and destruction like he’d been 1,000 years ago. He didn’t love anything then, nothing but pure chaos. Then he was trapped, and 1,000 years later he had reawakened with that same fury only in a much different time, in a much different world. He didn’t have you 1,000 years ago but yet he had you all of a sudden, the girl who killed curses for a living yet didn’t kill him.

He didn’t know what made him so special, but he didn’t kill you either, stuck on your otherworldly beauty and hanging on to every sweet word that left your lips. He made you his a couple months after, not like you weren’t the moment he laid his eyes on you and decided to spare your life. Something beyond him must’ve known how important you’d be later on, something beyond him saving him from the potential heartbreak of having not been with you at all.

He spoiled you in all the gifts and glory you never could’ve imagined, dressed you in soft red silks and fine white diamonds, showered you with oh-so sweet compliments and possessive touches — he never liked anyone thinking you weren’t his, but he never gave you the one thing you really wanted in the way you deserved it. He never chose you first, put you first, loved you above everything. Yes, he loved you but he loved chaos more, and eventually his crazed mind had twisted into something so incongruous, so far gone he was blinded by his need for mayhem that he couldn’t see you anymore.

And that’s when you left, and it’s been such a painful blur ever since.

His girl, his rose… withered into ash in the flames of his own hands.

But now, now he was grown. He knew what he wanted now and the night only made it so much more obvious to him that he was ready to give you everything, all of him and all of his love.

Maybe it was the soft way your hands ran across his hot skin, delicate and dainty, so you couldn’t hurt him anymore than he was already hurt. Maybe it was the way you fluffed his pillow like a doting wife and smiled at him so sweetly like he’d never done anything to hurt you in the first place. Maybe it was the way you saved him time and time again with open arms and a gentle heart despite how he’d treated you. Maybe it wasn’t just one moment that made him realized how much he missed you, but in fact all of those moments combined that helped piece together that revelation.

You were beautiful and kind, a flower he had abused one too many times that grew thorns around it’s heart. Now you weren’t so easy to pluck, to win over. But now Sukuna was ready, he didn’t care if he got cut if it meant you’d be his flower again, his darling rose.

Sukuna clenched his jaw, skin red and patchy from the heat of the shower as he reached over and turned it off. The water subdued to echoing droplets, his need for you stronger than any craving for chaos he’s ever experienced.

He was ready to love you, to give himself to you in the way you always needed, be there for you just as you were for him. He couldn’t let this snowy night pass before you knew that, let this opportunity pass him by like they have so many times before. He stepped out of the shower, determined to make you his again and become the King (thing) you always deserved.

For the first time in his very long life Ryomen Sukuna was going to be selfish for the right reasons.

It was that cold Friday night when Sukuna came to you, slowly opening your door so he didn’t wake you up quite yet. He was still bare from the shower, a piece of gauze taped to his abdomen the only form of attire he had on. He had left wet footprints along your hallway, his skin mostly dry from the warm air of your home but his pink hair still damp, droplets of water rolling down his neck. His abdomen ached with every step but he couldn’t focus on the pain, only you.

He didn’t care that he was naked, you’d seen his body plenty of times before just as he’d seen yours, and what a beautiful sight it was. He had no shame and had nothing to be ashamed about, and to be honest his nudity wasn’t even a thought in his mind as he gently closed the door behind him.

It was late, the sky still black with white flurries sprinkling down, your window stained with fog and snowflakes as a silver, fragmented glow of the moon befell on your sleeping form. Your room was dark but bright enough for him to see, his feet silent and calculated like he knew which boards creaked and which ones didn’t; he’d been in here so many times without you knowing that the rhythm of steps he needed to take just came natural to him.

He noticed the black robe he had gifted you was thrown on the end of your bed, and he couldn’t help but wonder what you had been wearing underneath it as all he could see was a puff of soft hair above your crimson blanket. He loved that you still loved the color red even after him, sprinkles of Sukuna dusted over your apartment so subtly only he’d be able to notice it. Your red couch, your red blanket, your black clothes and the diamond jewelry you never threw away. All little reminders of him because you couldn’t find it in yourself to move on.

Good.

He moved to your bedside, sitting on the edge of the bed as it sunk under his weight. The silence was filled with your gentle breathing, his dark red eyes looking over the soft rise and fall of your shoulder from where you had scrunched the blanket under your chin. Your eyelashes were cute and wispy, laid over your cheeks as a strand of your hair slid down to your nose.

This scene was so familiar to him; he couldn’t recall how many times he’d snuck in here when you were sleeping just to see you again, in between the weeks he’d knowingly visit you with a bustled lip and bloody nose.

You were beautiful and peaceful, his black claw coming up and ever so softly moving the piece of unruly hair behind your ear. His knuckles dragged on your cheekbone, his jaw clenched as he suddenly felt unsure of himself and the moment he’d just created. He felt almost nervous, him, as powerful and influential as he was, was nervous because of a human, a sorcerer. It was so odd, but then again nothing about your relationship was normal. Still, he couldn’t leave now, he was in too deep at this point.

It was too late for him to question himself however when your eyes sleepily fluttered open, his hand slowly retracting back to his side as he let your awareness kick in.

He gazed into your eyes as they registered him, confused and groggy as you pulled the blanket down away from your mouth, looking up at him questioningly.

Your eyes ran over his face, observing the way his lips frowned and his eyes seemed almost pained, two red dots of light. Your eyes flickered between his in a blurry sleep hazed stare.

“Sukuna? Is something wrong?” You immediately thought the worst, your voice soft and raspy in that way he used to hear when you’d wake up beside him. He wanted those days back, his hand tensing at the sweet sound of you.

You moved the blanket off of you, goosebumps rising on your skin from the cool air. Your arm came up to rub at your eyes, still blurry, anything to help your vision adjust to the darkness (and the situation) around you.

Sukuna’s eyes were drawn to the lacy black tank top you wore, tracing over the curve of your breast from where it had slightly spilled out of the cup. His fist clenched some more, a heat stirring in his tummy that made his eyes darken as they looked back up at your face. It’s been too long since he’d seen them, seen any part of you besides your face and arms. He swore he wasn’t usually so easily affected.

Sukuna waited until you were looking at him again before he spoke, only you beat him to it once more as clarity started to fill your senses at what exactly was happening.

You put a cold hand on his forearm that made his muscle tense, “Is everything okay, why are you in here?” You furrowed your brows at him, voice still soft as it felt unnecessary to speak so loud when he was so close.

Sukuna stared back at you for a moment, hot and intense, a look that had you faltering as your eyes fell to his chin to keep from looking into his. You felt nervous now, way past your initial shock and worry as you were now exposed to him in the tank top you hadn’t intended for him to see.

He looked over your face, eyes noticing how you looked away from him in that shy way you always did. It made him eager to see them again, his need for you overpowering him so quickly he couldn’t think as his hands reached for you. They had missed you just as much.

His right hand gently grabbed your jaw as his left cushioned itself on your pillow and laid you down so he was on top of you, his legs still hanging off the edge of the bed but his larger frame now trapping you underneath him. His muscle was next to your head, his claws poking into your cheeks and you felt your heart stop and then pound frantically in the shell of your ears. You knew he could hear it too, his face hovering over yours as the smell of your body wash wafted into your nose.

Your eyes flickered between his, wide-eyed and in utter shock at the situation that had rapidly occurred. You couldn’t speak, stuttering over words for some kind of question that would formulate what you were thinking into existence. You felt hot and smothered, swallowing down nothing in your dry mouth.

Sukuna looked over your face as though he was inspecting you, eyes slanted and dark, an intensity hidden behind the red flakes of his irises so strong it only made the red seem brighter, burning. You couldn’t help the shakey breath you inhaled, wanting to look away but knowing you couldn’t.

“You love me, don’t you? You still love your King?” Sukuna growled gently, his voice deep and raspy with a very subtle hint of desperation for what your answer could be. His warm breath washed over your lips as he moved your head slightly so it was looking straight at him. You glanced down at his lips, stupidly of course as he noticed when you did it.

You didn’t fight him, a part of you not wanting to as this was a fantasy you’ve only been dreaming about every since you left him. But also because you were so surprised still, his question catching you off guard as you blinked at him stupidly.

What did he expect you to say to that? What did you expect you to say to that? Did you still love him, was he looking for a serious answer or was he just sleep walking? You knew it wasn’t the latter, his viridian eyes piercing into you like he could see the intricate makings of your own mind, hooded with slight purple bags under them. Your breathing was a little harsh, your skin tingling at his proximity as no one had touched you in a very long time and it was something your body (you) craved.

You wanted him to touch you more but wanted him to not touch you at all.

You didn’t know what to tell him and you weren’t sure how seriously you should take it. You didn’t want to say the wrong thing and make him angry, or better yet tell the truth and make him angry. You weren’t sure what would satisfy him, his eyes giving away nothing that could help you as they stared at you, growing irritated with your lack of response.

You don’t know how he expected you to focus when he was staring at you like that.

Do you still love your King? God… you swallowed at that as the phrase made your legs tighten, only slightly so he wouldn’t feel the movement under the blanket. It was completely inappropriate but so was this whole situation, and like you said, it really had been so long without him that your body yearned for him, practically jumping at how close he was to it. All that time away and yet your body had not trained itself to hate him.

You opted for the truth, knowing he could sense if you lied anyway (he always could no matter how hard you tried). You stared back at his eyes and gulped with a very subtle head nod, “I never really stopped…” You uttered, weak and spineless like a field mouse.

Sukuna released a tense breath, his head falling into your neck as he hummed against your skin, almost a purring nose that rattled his throat, his nose rubbing just behind your ear like a doting kitten. That answer seemed to satisfy him enough.

Your eyes closed at the feeling of him so close to you, letting out a stuttering breath. You wanted to reach up and wrap your arms around him, bring him closer to you until all of him laid on top of you. But you knew you shouldn’t interfere with whatever he was doing, you didn’t want to risk ruining whatever this was.

Your hands were tense at your sides as you didn’t know what to do with them, better yet you didn’t want to disturb him. You swallowed another bunch of nerves that fluttered in your belly, an ache forming under your skin as your breathing picked up from just his simple touches, his warm breath brushing over your neck. He was big and warm, laying his chest on top of you and sinking his head into your shoulder like he couldn’t get enough of you.

You wanted more of him too.

You couldn’t deny though that this felt very sudden and weird to you, how all of a sudden he was in your room and asking if you loved him. Did he get into one of your bottles of pain medication? Was he doped up? You couldn’t fathom any other explanation other than inebriety that would justify his uncharacteristic behavior.

Asking you if you loved him, You felt that was a more serious conversation that should be held over coffee in your living room, where both persons were sober and of sound mind, not nearly exposed and drunk on each other in the darkness of your bed with his body surrounding you. You swore his proximity was influencing your thoughts in some way, making them all muddled.

“Hmm, do you have any idea how much I’ve suffered since you left? How weak I felt, how powerless you made me?” He hissed into your neck like he loathed you for it, his hand tightening just a tad around your jaw. He smelt your skin, citrus and something sweet like dove soap that tickled his nose. He could hear your heart beating rapidly underneath your smooth skin, his eyes closed as he relished in your warmness, crazed with want for you but still managing to control himself. You’d be proud of him for not ripping your clothes off like he would’ve done in the past.

You felt his wet hair prickle your cheek as you leaned in just a little bit to him, unable to resist him despite you wanting to.

You frowned at his statement, eyes opening to look at the ceiling, unhappy with the fact that he was in pain but also glad it wasn’t just you.

“Well that’s your own fault, I’m not going to take all the blame. Besides, you weren’t the only one who was hurting, you know.” You scolded rather modestly; hurt didn’t even begin to cover the way he had made you feel even before you left him. He didn’t even know how alone you felt, how unimportant and small he had made you feel. He had no idea of the nights you cried and pleaded to some sort of god to help you make it all work. In the end your efforts were proved pointless when Sukuna never changed, and never even tried to.

You weren’t going to let him make you feel guilty for trying to find something better, you deserved better and you weren’t going to apologize for it. Sukuna may have made you dumber than normal but you weren’t that easy.

Sukuna grit his teeth at the truth lacing your statement, his hand releasing your jaw to slide down your throat, down to your chest, feeling the way your lungs moved and savoring the feel of your soft flesh under his hand. His nails scratched you delicately as he finally stopped and rested his palm right over your heart. It made your body shudder involuntarily, hands clenching at your sides at the warmth his palm resonated onto your beating heart. You swallowed again, eyes nervously flickering over to the back of his head like you could see his face.

“I didn’t want to hurt you, woman. I’m not like that anymore anyway, isn’t that obvious? Don’t you see how I’ve changed for you?” He grumbled against your hot skin, his arm that was on the pillow maneuvering over your head so his hand was by your hair — his fingers toyed with the strands until they were tangled in them. The hand above your heart dug in a little deeper like he wanted to pull it out and squeeze it himself, the rapid thumping vivid against his palm at the way he spoke into your body.

You eyes fluttered shut again, quickly becoming overwhelmed with all the sensations and revelations. Your scalp tingled from the way he gently played with your hair — something he always did with no knowledge of why to you, the sensation dancing down your neck and spine and making your stomach turn pleasurably.

It was starting to get incredibly warm around you, the air buzzing around your bodies and making it harder to breath. You were starting to feel smothered by him and the feelings he brought out of you, yet not completely suffocated by him like you so badly wanted to be.

He didn’t want to hurt you, but he did, he really did. You would say that he had changed somewhat yes, changed in the sense that he wasn’t so vulgar and chaotic as he once was, more silent and self-controlled as maturity usually does to people. But did complex minuscule human concepts such as maturity even affect him anyway? He wasn’t necessarily a human at the end of the day, he wasn’t technically a man with muscle and blood flowing through his own veins, just a passenger in the conduit of another man’s body.

Even if he could change and experience emotional evolution like humans do, how could you say he had when just tonight he was beaten by those same sorcerers he’d been so adamant on destroying a year and a half ago? That didn’t express change nor maturity. Some things do change but a persons motivation only gets stronger; their goals only become shorter. Some things may change but all things do not.

Sukuna took a moment to bring his legs up on the bed, the mattress shaking as he brought them up and laid them out on top of yours. One chiseled leg swung over your thighs and the other snuggled up next to yours, his abdomen throbbing at the movement but he didn’t so much as wince. His full weight was now pushing down on your smaller form, his hips digging into yours and you swore you could feel nothing on him but muscle.

You were glad the blanket separated you from him, you were sure your chest would explode if it was just you and him, skin on skin and heart to heart, breathing the same air and sharing the same space. You guessed you already were, but the blanket felt like some sort of protection from pure intimacy, and this was already plenty enough.

“I want you back with me, I need you with me, forever. Nothing will get between us again, Rosie. I’ll kill anything that tries.” He vowed into your ear with an almost angry growl at just the thought of it. The pet name you held so dear to you made your heart flutter, something he knew when he spoke it.

He lifted his head up again, just enough to look into your eyes but so much closer than he was before — your nose was almost bumping his as he looked at you with such a hungry fierceness you had to clench your fists to control your own self. It was intense, the red of his eyes almost brighter, a dark crimson that swirled like endless pools of blood. The color of love.

You felt this sick glimmer of hope run through you at his words, those damned words you’d wanted to hear for so so long. You looked between his eyes for any semblance of bullshit he might convey, your heart still fragile from heartbreak but just as eager to beat for him again. But then again if you’d listened to your heart you never wouldn’t left him in the first place, you’d still be with that immature curse who so easily threw you to the side when the word power was even mentioned. You had to ignore the ache in your chest for the betterment of your own sanity.

Had he changed from that? Was he really ready to put you first, above anything, above his one true love that you never could compete with? It hurt so much to leave him the first time, you still hadn’t recovered from it. You couldn’t imagine the pain that would come from leaving him a second time.

You were scared now, the silence of the room buzzing in your ears, the shadows reflecting the gentle snowfall from your window as you just stared at him, your reflection in his pupils. You wanted so badly to ignore the past and move on to the future, embrace a new chapter for the both of you, but lessons are learned from past mistakes and they shouldn’t be ignored when the same problem comes running back pleading for forgiveness. It would be foolish to do that.

You wanted him to love you, you wanted to be his everything, you wanted to be his priority but the promise of that seemed too easily spoken given the circumstance.

You shook your head at him, your eyes burning at the notion that this was all some sick lie for him to have you at his beck and call again. You couldn’t handle the heartbreak and humiliation if this was some twisted scheme.

“I want that, too…” You whispered to him, your voice cracking with a particular sadness you didn’t care to hide. You saw the way his eyes looked between yours, how they registered the glossiness of tears threatening to fall. Yes, he did hate it when you cried.

“…But how am I supposed to know you’re telling the truth? How am I supposed to trust you again after everything? I don’t want to say yes and then you’re back to being the same way you were before. I do love you, I love you so much…” You said shakily as you brought your hands up from under the blanket. You put them over his muscled arm that was still laid on your chest, one hand over his and the other grasping his wrist. You squeezed his arm for emphasis, his eyes flickering down to where you held onto him like you didn’t want him to leave (you didn’t).

“But I’m terrified to come back to you and be second to your crown like I always was. If I come back to you, then it needs to be me and you, nothing in between. I want you to love me as greatly as I love you, and as equally. I’m not going to be your second choice anymore, Sukuna, I can’t.” You felt tears slide down your cheeks from each eye and soak into your pillow, a broken whisper in your voice that sounded desperate and pleading, absolutely pitiful, your throat thick and earnest with emotion.

Sukuna felt his jaw clench as the tears rolled down your cheeks, a hatred for himself burning in his lungs at how he did this to you. He didn’t ever like hurting you, which was painfully ironic to him. He found himself not caring about anything other than you in this moment, feeling his own self get choked up at the pain he caused you.

He was hurting too but he could only imagine how much you’ve been hurting. It made him feel awful, so guilty, regret bubbling under his skin. He never wanted you to feel like this again, just the thought of power a small blip in his mind that got smaller the closer he got to you.

He brought his hand down from above your head, his eyes conveying such seriousness you’d never saw before in them, and brought it down to your cheek. It was a sweet gesture, a small one to make up for the tears he gave you. His thumb gently wiped away at the tear sliding down from the corner of your eye, claw tickling your cheekbone as he cupped the side of your face in his warm palm.

You stared up at him as he did, sniffling slightly, your eyes tired and so pathetically heart wrenching as you leaned into the comforting touch of his hand.

“Baby… You’re mine and you’re the only thing I want in this wretched world. If I don’t have you then I have nothing. I crave you… in ways power could never satisfy me. I crave you… in ways your mortal mind could never even imagine…” He rumbled deep and genuine, hungry and primal, his fangs poking out from behind his lips as he spoke. He meant it too, meant it more than you’d ever comprehend. He looked into your eyes as he leaned closer towards you, his nose bumping yours as a small smile graced your lips at his proclamation.

He craved you… not nearly as much as you did him.

Your thighs tightened under the blanket at the raspy, guttural voice of which he spoke, dangerously enticing and lustful in the worst of times. Still, you couldn’t hide your shame as you looked at his lips with that same desire swirling in your tummy at the way he looked at you. You couldn’t help it, he affected you so easily and he always did. Him and that voice, him and those eyes. You couldn’t handle it sometimes.

You wanted him now, wanted him badly, wanted him to bleed those words into you with desperate action. His response did nothing to tame your desire as your hands squeezed around his arm in anticipation, a gleeful feeling twinkling in your heart that made the smile glow on your face.

Sukuna stroked your cheek softly some more, admiringly, as he leaned his head closer to yours, the hand over your heart turning around to intertwine your fingers in his. He squeezed your hand. It was so wholesome and pure and it made your heart jump, your fingers tightening around his own in response as your free hand went up to his cheek.

You swallowed as you both stared at each other for a moment; you felt like you could melt. You grazed your thumb over his cheekbone, tracing the black marking under your hand lovingly.

Sukuna leaned closer to you, his breath warm on your lips. He leaned into your hand, cocking his head into it as he relished in the feeling of your skin on his warm cheek. His hair was still damp, your chest breathless as you waited for him to close the distance between his lips and yours like you wanted him to, knowing he was going to anyway with the way he looked between your lips and your eyes with equal longing.

“You’re my sweet Rosie.” He whispered deeply and sincerely into the night before finally pressing his lips to yours in a hot, heartfelt kiss that spared him the need to express himself over spoken word.

You closed your eyes and sunk under the mattress as he laid his full weight on you, collapsing into you as though you sucked the soul out of him, a moan sounding from your throat as another tear fell from your eye, only for a different reason entirely. Your hand that was on his cheek reached behind his head and crawled into his damp hair, grasping the pink locks and holding his lips against you so he couldn’t leave.

He growled lowly into your mouth at the sharp feeling, his skin lit ablaze as a pleasurable stir pulled at his lower stomach.

He wanted you, wanted you so bad, wanted to rip your clothes off and feel your tight pussy squeeze around his cock until it was gushing around him. He missed that feeling, craved it more than air. But even he could feel that tonight was different; he didn’t just want to fuck you. He wanted to show his love and appreciation to you in the best way he knew how. He wanted to feel every inch of your skin pulsing against his, feel your lips on him and your hand in his as the both of you chose to forget everything that happened before the moment he came inside you. He wanted to make love to you.

His hand that was intertwined with yours pulled them up to the top of your head so he could get closer to you, his other hand gliding down from your chest until it was at the rim of your black tank top — it was the black lacy one, another thing he’d bought for you and a detail he didn’t overlook.

He didn’t rip it off quite yet, sucking your tongue into his mouth as his sharp teeth ran against it, his hand squeezing yours from above your head. You couldn’t help the small moan that sounded at the painful, pleasurable tingle that had Sukuna pressing his hardening cock into you from over the blanket. He always loved your sounds, loved the way you cried his name and moaned out more, more, more.

Sukuna pulled himself away with his lips wet, already wanting to put them back on you. He panted against you hard and slow, fangs bared as his eyes roamed your face. The flush of your cheeks and your glimmering eyes, so gorgeous with your hair fanned out beneath you, all his once again. You looked back at him, your eyes hooded and your lips puffy and pink, glimmering with shared saliva.

“Take off your top or I’ll rip it off.” He breathed aggressively into your mouth, nose bumping into yours as his hand clutched the black fabric between his sharp nails.

You looked down at your top when he mentioned it, too distracted to really care about anything besides him and thought of what his lips felt like on yours. You were too far gone now, any remnants of sadness having melted away and just as quickly replaced with salacious want, wanting, needing him to just put his lips back on yours for another kiss that had been long overdue.

You looked back up at him with panting breaths, fingers clutching his hair as the space between you felt too long and cold without his mouth in the way of it. Your eyes met his again, the both of you greedy for more and each one of you as hopelessly devoted as the other. You had a feeling it would stay that way this time.

“Then rip it off…” You sighed wantonly, voice thick and raspy as you pushed his face back down to yours with no chance of a word between.

His hand squeezed your much smaller one, the tips of his nails prickling your skin as you swore you heard him snarl against your mouth. You groaned hotly as his tongue tangled with yours in that expert way only he knew you liked, your hips pushing up against his growing cock shamelessly.

The thick red duvet, which was once a form of protection for you just a few minutes ago, was now only an irritating nuisance keeping you and the object of your desires separated. You maneuvered your feet and sloppily kicked it down until it slid off your knees, the cold air hitting your bare legs as Sukuna’s leg pressed up into your inner thighs.

Sukuna gripped the rim of your top and quickly ripped it down the middle with barely any strength, the straps snapping off your shoulders as you inhaled sharply from the slight sting of it. You arched your back into him, lips still moving fervently against each others as he crumbled the frail material in his hands and tossed it somewhere; it slid off your skin smoothly.

Your bare chest and stomach were now exposed to him yet you felt no insecurity; you never did when it came to Sukuna, he always made you feel desired in his own way and that was enough to show you he loved you.

Sukuna kissed you one more time, bringing your bottom lip into his mouth and slowly sucking on it, his fangs piercing into your skin as he licked the sting away. You whined as he ensured to look at you while he did it, obsessed with the way your eyes fluttered and your hand tightened in his hair. He seperated from you finally after a moment, your lip popping back into place.

The erotica of it all made your core clench around nothing, a wetness filling your lower lips that made it almost wrongful that nothing was down there to fill it yet. Sukuna felt the effects of you as well, his cock pressing into your black shorts hard and eager. You were well aware of it but Sukuna was doing so good at distracting you from it, she was well aware of it.

Sukuna immediately brought his hands down to your breasts once they were freed, looking down at the way the soft globes of flesh molded into his hands and jiggled when he moved them. They were soft and smooth and spilled between his fingers so beautifully. He had missed them so fucking much, almost having forgotten what they felt like in his hands. He clenched his jaw and groaned, groaned, as he scooted down towards them, licking his lips as he squeezed them in his big hands.

“Nngh — that feels good, baby…” You sighed at the pleasurable sensation shooting through you as he played with your titties, your nipples sensitive as always, as he knew. His claws dug into your skin as he squeezed them harder, your hips jerking up instinctively as a shock ran through you. Your stomach was twisted, your pussy so needy and sobbing between your thighs as he nibbled on your collarbone.

“Yeah, feels good, pretty girl?” He rumbled into your skin, licking and mouthing at your chest as he rubbed your breasts in slow circles, applying pressure as he did. Your chest was covered in wet marks and pink circles, your hands somehow having found their way on top of Sukuna’s, holding his hands there as he rubbed them.

“I love these tits, they’re mine aren’t they? They always were.” He hissed, voice grumbling like fallen mountain rocks as he slid down your body a little more, his cock rubbing on the skin of your thigh and it was only now you realized he was naked. Had he come in your room that way? Who cares, you were just waiting for the moment you were too.

“Mmhmm, unghh — they always were.” You mumbled in a pleasure induced haze as you arched your back into him, your head thrown back into your silky red pillows and eyes closed as your thighs tightened around his leg. His hands slid down to your waist as yours found their way to his broad shoulders.

“That’s fucking right they were…” He kissed the valley of your breasts, licking your skin and grazing his fangs in a way that made your body flutter; you felt so good already, so good and weightless from his big hands and sharp lips alone. He was always so good at touching you, knowing every nerve and knowing how to pinpoint each one that made you a messy, needy puddle underneath him; he specialized in the art of your pleasure, an expert in the waves of your body in a way you weren’t even in tune with it.

Finally, finally, he slid his head over and licked a stripe up to your nipple, sucking it into his mouth like it wasn’t hard enough. You moaned rather loudly, your hands flying up to his hair and rubbing anything you touched in a mindless act of delicious satisfaction. He groaned into your skin at the way you clawed at his hair like a desperate slut, licking and sucking on your nipple as his hand went and rubbed the other one, fingertips and claws circling your other nipple that made sweet tingles pebble onto your hot skin.

His eyes flickered up to you, looking up at your parted lips and your eyes squeezed shut, feeling his cock throb with need to feel you around him already. He was hard, so painfully hard, stuffed between your thigh and his. He liked seeing you like this though, liked seeing the effect he had on you and hearing how you whined for him. He wanted to be buried inside you already, so deep you believed the tip of his cock was pressing into your guts. But he liked this better, a cruel part of him still wanting to tease your sweet pussy just a little longer until you were so needy for him he could see it staining your shorts.

He wasn’t going to wait too long though, it had been too long since he was balls deep in that tight pussy; even a man (thing) as strong as Sukuna had his limits, already bursting at the seams.

His hand eagerly slid down your stomach, pushing past your shorts as your legs widened for him. You bit your lip, hips chasing his hand as he crawled his way down… down… down…

You moaned shamelessly and sweetly as his long, lithe middle finger split down the middle of your lower lips, your wetness leaking down his finger and dripping down to his palm as the smell of your arousal hit his sharp nose. He clenched his jaw, lips twisting into a primal growl at the sweet smell of it. God, it was better than anything on this earth, and he couldn’t believe he was almost going to live a lifetime without it.

“Oh my god! Oh my god…” You panted, voice high pitched and pathetically whiney as you desperately grasped at his chiseled shoulders with rapacious hands.

He picked his head up, fingers sliding out of your shorts and leaving a stick white trail up to your waist. His eyes glowed a deep red in the darkness, now looking up at your face, your breasts covered in purple stains and teeth marks.

“Not god, Rosie. Me, only me. I missed this pussy baby… so wet for me like I knew you’d be… my pretty girl… you’re mine forever, I’ll kill anything that tries to take you from me.” He exclaimed possessively, his voice thick with love and a burning hunger that scratched at his throat. He was full of danger and promise, your hands scratching at his shoulders as his exclamation only seemed to make you wetter for him.

“I only wanna be yours anyway…” You mumbled back wistfully, any thought crossing your mind carelessly said out loud as you gazed down at his eyes. You had mentioned he made your thoughts all muddle together. Your skin buzzed with electricity like the workings of a light bulb, your heart pumping in your ears and your skin pasty with sweat already.

You couldn’t stop moving your fingers across Sukuna’s skin — he shivered at the feeling, any muscle you could touch that could’ve been carved from a dotiing gods chisel as far as you knew. You were too alive to keep still, bursting with love and unabashed lechery that had your pussy aching for him.

You both shared a tender look, your hand coming around and grazing his cheek delicately as you gazed drunkenly into his eyes. He cocked his head into your palm, reaching up and laying a sweet kiss on your chin, his pink hair tickling your lips. You smiled at that, putting a finger under his chin and jolting his mouth up so you could give him a peck.

He licked his lips after you did, his eyes staring at your mouth before giving you another sweet kiss that lasted a few short seconds before he was looking into your eyes again.

“I love you, pretty.” He said so quietly anybody else would’ve never heard him.

You could hear the earnestness in his baritone voice, your hands coming up to cup both his cheeks. You were so proud of him for being so uncharacteristically open, vulnerable. You knew how hard it was for him to be that way, which only made it all the more special to you that he was. It was a small detail that convinced you he loved you. You felt your heart swell with a gorge of emotion for him. He felt the same. You admired the black markings on his face, his lower set of eyes closed as you ran your thumbs over his cheekbones.

“I love you too, stupid.” You responded wholeheartedly, a faint whisper shared between you for his ears only. You gave him one last kiss before he slid back down and starting mouthing at your jaw.

You sunk further into the pillows as you sighed pleasurably at the way he kissed your body, hands ruffled in his hair once more as he trailed further and further down until he was licking down your stomach. You didn’t wait for him as you brought your hands down and hooked your thumbs into the edges of your shorts, wiggling out of them so he didn’t have to do it for you. You kicked them off your feet, the soft plop of them hitting the floor falling on deaf ears as you were finally, truly exposed to him now.

Sukuna glanced up at you before sliding all the way down, his abdomen dully throbbing at the way he was bent over the edge of the bed. He groaned hungrily at the sight of your pussy, glistening with white, sticky strings of arousal that even shined on your inner thighs.

His dick throbbed at the sight of it, his mind already filled with ideas of how good you were going to feel wrapped around him.

He brought his hand down from your hip, shamelessly running it over your wet lips as his claw grazed the hood of your clit. Your thighs jolted at that as you panted above him, releasing soft, airy moans as you waited for him to do something, anything to you.

“So perfect…” He growled, his index finger joining his middle as he scissored your lips open, a wet sticky sound separating them as he gazed upon your clenching, glistening hole and puffy, pretty clit. It was even more beautiful than he remembered, his two fingers sliding down your insides and messily spreading your wetness around.

It was a sickly wet sound that sounded in the room, your cheeks a bashful pink as your hands grasped the sheets.

Sukuna’s mouth watered, rubbing your wetness around some more as his claw circled your tight hole. He watched as a glob of wetness dripped out to the crack of your ass, staining the sheet below. Your legs jerked as you whined, “Sukuna…”

He took his hand off of you, your stomach painfully twisted like a rubber band bound to break at any fragile moment as you slumped in disappointment at the loss of his hands on you. He brought his two fingers into his mouth and tasted you again after a year and a half of being starved. He groaned quietly at the taste, sweet and bitter as he licked your arousal off his fingers. Usually he’d finger you, but his nails were too sharp and too long for that now. He’d have to remember to cut them off later on.

“Taste so good, Rosie.” He uttered gutturally, a crazed man almost as his hands rubbed at your inner thighs and spread you open just bit more for him.

You gulped down a dry throat, your hands pulling at his pink hair again as he licked and nibbled at your thighs, his thumb massaging the other one his mouth wasn’t able to be on. Your pussy was practically screaming at this point, begging for his mouth, his lips, his tongue, his cock, anything to just relieve the pain throbbing through your whole lower area. You’d never felt this needy before, broken down to a wailing, horny mess that needed to be filled more than anything.

“Please, please, I want it already…” You babbled nonsensically, hands grabbing at the strands of his hair and pulling his head closer to your pussy so he’d get the hint. It was shameless and desperate but you didn’t care, you needed him.

He smiled wickedly at that, the sting on his scalp making his spine tingle. He was pleased with the way you begged for it without him even having to ask, not that he’d make you do it this time, he wanted this just as much as you did.

He glanced up at your twisted face, ruined with pleasure he was giving you, before he looked back down at your slick womanhood. The moon barely shined down on its full glory, he thought, gladly anticipating the moment he’d see it in the day. He slid his hands up your thighs and hooked his thumbs onto your lips, spreading them wide open so he could see your insides clearly.

You bit your lip, thighs helplessly tightening around his arms as he stared it, entranced, for a few short moments. He salivated at the sight like a starved man looking at a four course meal. You were tastier than that.

He moved forward and licked a confidant stripe up the expanse of your spread pussy, tasting your arousal on his tongue as it dripped down the corners of his lips. He moaned into you at the taste, licking up and down with a broad tongue for a few moments before he had to pull away and taste you again.

You squealed, keening and shaking, arching your back and digging your heels into the bed at the way your core pulsed waves of indescribable pleasure through your legs. You felt breathless and dizzy, clenching around air as his spit dribbled down your opening.

Sukuna leaned his head back, licking his lips as he swallowed the mix of saliva and wetness pooled on his tongue. His eyes closed in ecstasy, already thirsty for more as he growled, shoving his head back into your pussy and sucking on your clit, the slick sounds of you loud in your ears; you were almost embarrassed at how wet he had made you.

Your thighs closed around his head when the sensations became too much, squeezing around his ears as your mouth opened in querulous gasps and cries. His hands had wrapped themselves around your legs at some point or another, his veins throbbing and muscles flexing as he relatively tried to keep your bucking hips pinned down.

You wished you could see how could he looked from between your legs, but you couldn’t focus on one single thing, your mind a scrambled mess. Your thighs shook uncontrollably, an orgasm already chipping away at your tummy from how sensitive you were.

“Oh! Ahh, baby!” You yelled in a high pitch, both of your hands gripping the sheets so hard your knuckles were white. You heard the snap of the sheet flying off the corner of the bed, curling in itself as another corner popped off. Your stomach tensed as he licked down again, his tongue thrusting into your hole until your wetness was glistening over his cheeks. He groaned into you, the vibrations shaking your soul as his nose rubbed against your wet clit.

It had been so so long since you’ve had this, you missed it and you missed him.

It was vulgar and nasty, just the way he liked it as his spit mixed with your glossy wetness, sliding down until the sheets were soaked in a dark patch of saliva and arousal. You tasted so good he couldn’t even describe it, his eyes closed still as he relished in the taste of you smeared over his tongue, sliding down his chin and dripping onto the bed as he made an absolute mess out of you.

You couldn’t breath, throat dry as cracked moans left parted lips. You were panting as your stomach tightened and tightened and tightened… and with a few more eager licks you felt it snap, a long moan drowning out his lustful groan as a flood of wetness gushed into his mouth and splashed on his cheeks.

Your thighs shook horribly, your skin beating off and on like a flashing light as your heart pounded in your head, sweat beading at your hairline. You came much quicker than you usually would have, but it’d been so long without Sukuna that your arousal had no where to go during this past year, building up inside you, waiting for the day he would come back and shatter the wall holding it all together.

You breathed heavily, the room hot and stuffy as your body slumped down into the mattress like the life had been drained from your veins. Your hands released their tight grip on the sheet as your body patiently calmed itself down.

Your orgasm dripped down Sukuna’s chin as he took his mouth off you, looking up at your tired face with heavy eyes and slow breaths. His eyes ran over your face and body, covered in his teeth marks and hickies he’d littered over your skin. Yes, you were his and he had proven it, a small, adoring smirk quirking on his mouth.

He licked the remnants of your orgasm off his lips, unhooking his arms from around your thighs and wiping his mouth off with the back of his hand. He kissed your thighs one last time before crawling up your body, your skin glowing with happiness and sweat. He took his time to kiss your skin as he went, savoring the feeling of it under his lips. Your legs jolted unevenly in the aftershock, your mind so hazy and jumbled you felt disconnected from reality altogether, barely conscious to the way he dotted loving kisses up your body.

Sukuna kissed his way up your stomach, up your chest, careful not to do too much that could frazzle you anymore as he let you find yourself again. He nuzzled his face into your neck once he worked himself all the way up your body, his hands tenderly gliding up your sides until they were grabbing at your midsection.

The same hands he’d used to kill thousands of men now holding you between them yet you knew you were in no real danger. He massaged the skin under his palms, feeling your heart beat rapidly under his head as he couldn’t care less about the sweat clinging to your skin.

“You’re all right, pretty…” He uttered into your neck, kissing your damp skin dotingly as you took deep breaths to steady yourself.

You brought a hand up and clumsily tangled it in his hair, grounding yourself to him as you lightly rubbed his head in an effort to comfort yourself — his pink locks now dry but his scalp damp with sweat. You inhaled deeply, exhaling just as focused as your heart began to slow once more and your legs stopped twitching.

You both waited a few moments in amorous silence, his hands softly stroking your sides as he rested his head on your shoulder, patiently waiting for you to come back to him again.

You hummed when you felt calm enough, his fingers sparking tingles up and down your body that had your pussy clenching once more. You turned your head towards him and kissed his hair to grab his attention, needy once more and not too proud to beg.

Sukuna perked his head up at the action, his hand trailing up your body and coming up to your face, looking as a strand of hair fell out of place and dusted over your eyelash. He didn’t hesitate to move it out the way with his nail, tucking it behind your ear in a corny romantic way that made your heart flutter. His gaze was heavy and warm-hearted as he looked back into your eyes, your other hand coming up and loosely grabbing his wrist as his hand settled on the crook of your jaw.

You leaned closer to him and he didn’t shy away, eyes looking all over your face before settling on the ravenous look in your dazzling eyes; it was subtle, swirling behind your love for him but like he said he knew you better than you knew yourself. It made his lip quirk at how quickly you seemed to recover from your orgasm already.

“I want you...” You mumbled piteously with an adorable pout on your lips as you pressed them almost against his. Your hand clutched a little tighter in his hair, leg nudging into his as you turned towards him with a new fervor striking through your loins. It had been too long without him and your body knew it, your pussy knowing how close he was to finally giving her the one thing she’d wanted for so long.

His eyes glistened with gluttonous understanding and recognition at your tone, his eyes hooded and slanted and dark. It was a piercing gaze, all consuming and vigorous at the realization that you wanted just what he wanted, just a much.

He hummed sensually at that, “oh yeah? What else you want?” He grumbled lustfully, his eyes flickering between the way you looked at him and your lips, still swollen from all the times he nibbled them just minutes ago. You didn’t fight when he pushed you down to hover over you again, a hand cupping your cheek as his sharp thumb nail ran over the plushness of your lips.

You sighed sweetly, looking at his mouth, “I want you to fuck me already.”

He clenched his jaw at your words, his cock so so so painfully hard as it stood up against his abdomen, leaking out a bead of pre cum that dribbled down the length of him.

You noticed the way his eyes almost rolled to the back of his head at your dirty words, biting your lip as you slowly stroked your hand down his broad chest, down to his abs where you were careful to avoid the bandage there, then trickling down to where the head of his cock was. You didn’t touch it yet, just felt his body shudder at the way you ran your nail against his skin like an innocent vixen.

He looked at you, shattered, like he could crack at any second as his hands clenched into the pillow under each side of your head. He wanted to see what you’d do; he’d always liked when you got cocky like this, your confidence a huge turn on for the otherwise dominant man. You batted your eyelashes at him cutely, finger softly swirling random shapes into his skin just above his leaking tip.

“I want you to make me yours again…” You sighed, daring to look into his eyes as you moved your hand down and ran the tip of your finger up the underside of his hard cock, tracing the familiar vein there.

Sukuna groaned then, a mix of a hot moan and a powerless rumble, almost collapsing on top of you as the strength in his arms faltered. Sparks ran through his cock, sharp and pleasurable and needing more.

You smiled at him as his eyes flashed to you, the fury burning in them the last thing you saw before he was kissing you desperately, messy and hot, his breath hitting your tongue and his teeth clashing against yours as his big arms fell around you, his larger body swallowing you whole.

You mewled into him, arms swinging around his neck as you wrapped your legs around his thighs, hips pushing up into him, so eager and wet already.

“You want my cock, huh? How badly do you want it?” He hissed into your mouth, his hand going down and resting on your tummy, feeling the warmth of your skin on his palm.

You whined, “so bad… I want it so bad.” You were way past trying to seem cute, now a mess, a mess he made you that ached for him so bad it physically hurt. You didn’t have the patience anymore, you wanted him deep inside you, so deep it hurt your insides but you’d still beg for more like the good girl you were for him.

He moaned heavily at that, moaned, the sound making a wave of arousal gush out of you as your legs tightened around him. He brought the hand down that was on your tummy and wrapped it around his throbbing cock, sighing at the slight relief it brought him as he sloppily grabbed it and positioned it between your legs.

He felt eager and greedy as he messily ran his thick tip through your soaking wet folds a few times, gathering your wetness on him as he used his hand to spread it all along his length. You and him both stared down at him, your pussy clenching as you dug your nails into his forearms, impatiently watching for him to push it in already.

A year and half without him, a year and half without his perfect, pretty cock, a year and half of waiting for this exact moment and now it was finally here. It was almost surreal, your eyes blinking as you bit your lip, trying to muff the moan that wanted to sound at just the sight of his dick you’d missed so fucking much. It was just as big and long as you remembered, smothered with white strings of your shared arousal.

Sukuna looked back up at you, gripping his cock in his hand with his eyes dark and primal. You whimpered, nails digging into his skin.

“Kiss me.” He ordered huskily. You did, pushing his head down to you and slipping your tongue in his mouth.

During the kiss, Sukuna positioned his cock head at your entrance, pushing past your slick until he was prodding at your hole. You whined, legs tightening around him to push him inside you further. He groaned into your mouth, hot and needy, as he pushed it inside you and stretched out your hole to fit his size. You both moaned together at the indescribable feeling of him slowly pushing his full length into you, of him filling you up and of you squeezing him into your tight heat.

“Fuck… you’re so tight, baby. This pussy’s hungry for me, isn’t she? She missed her King just as much as you, didn’t she?” He snarled against your lips, absolutely feral as your tightness squeezed him, so warm and hot and taking him in so smoothly. He had missed this feeling so fucking much, spent so many nights with his dick in his fist at the memory of your sweet pussy.

You gasped against his mouth, your arms swinging around his back and digging into the muscle there. You felt so full, your toes curling already as you threw your head back on your pillow. Pleasure, pure pleasure in a form you only ever experienced with him pulsed through your body as deep as your bone marrow.

Sukuna slid halfway out, the friction you caused making him hiss between his teeth as he thrusted back in. He wasn’t quick, savoring in the feeling of you around him as your wetness gushed out from around him and wet his thighs.

“Ahh, oh my god, I’ve wanted this for so long!” You gasped breathlessly, voice broken as you moaned against his lips, blood bubbling around your fingernails from how hard they dug into him.

He stared down at you with his lips twisted in pleasure, watching your face closely as he slid in and out, the light smacking sound your wetness made every time he thrusted back in only motivating him to fuck you a bit faster.

Your titties bounced softly from the movement, muscles tensing as your lips parted open and tears prickled at your eyes. Sukuna couldn’t talk, couldn’t even think straight besides the fact you felt so fucking good, his legs tight with every push back in he struggled to make because of your tightness. He hadn’t fucked you in so long your pussy wasn’t quite used to him yet. Don’t fret, he was going to enjoy stretching it back out to accustom him again.

He was soft and sweet against you as you both just let yourselves embrace this long overdue moment, careful not to squeeze too hard as his hands found their place on your waist again. He wasn’t squeezing so hard it’d hurt, just hard enough you could feel his longing for you thrumming under his fingertips; oceans of his love connecting you and him through subtle currents of yearning touches and soft kisses.

This was so unfamiliar to you — unfamiliar but very much welcomed. You felt smothered and sweaty, fingers digging into his back muscles and lips locked with his as he pressed himself against you. But it still wasn’t enough; you pressed him harder against you, begging for more, more, more.

Sukuna was supposed to be evil and terrible; he broke your heart once and he just might do it again but who were you to judge him when you enabled him? Who were you to hate him when you brought this on yourself? All you could do was trust him as he was all you had, all you wanted. He just might break your heart again but you’d let him if it meant he’d come back like this every time to put you two back together. Without him you were nothing, you weren’t whole, and without you he wasn’t anything either.

You moaned against his lips at a particularly deep thrust inside you, his hands on yours thighs now as his claws dug into your skin so painfully good you knew you would wake up with the bruised marks of his love carved into you.

“Ahh, Rosie. My Rosie…” He breathed into your neck deep and husky, sinking his fangs into your shoulder with his own stomach in hopeless knots at the way you so snugly wrapped him. He couldn’t believe he ever let this pussy leave him, how he functioned so long without it, but he supposed he didn’t really function, he was just good at pretending.

He felt you gush around his cock again with a sweet moan on his ear, his hands moving up your body and gliding up your back. He wrapped his arms around yours, holding your face to his so he could hear every little gasp and whimper that left your pretty lips for him.

You moaned into his neck, relishing in the closeness he gave you. He felt so good and deep, buried in your guts as your tits rocked against his chest with every movement.

His wounds were sore, so sore and painful, but god he couldn’t stop and he wouldn’t, he needed more of you, all of you. He wasn’t going to stop until you were creaming around his cock like you used to.

He was a greedy man, never denied that fact nor questioned it. He was greedy and selfish, wanted you or nothing at all, wanted everything you’d give him and he’d happily take it like the greedy creature he was.

If loving Sukuna made you selfish so be it, if loving him made you foolish so be it. You’d be foolish and selfish if it meant he’d never let you go again. You’d take that risk, you’d risk your sanity if it meant he’d stay inside you forever, bonded with you and stuck to you; I’m yours as long as you are mine.

And as he came inside you with a hefty groan into your neck as he squeezed you into him, it only confirmed that fact as you came around him just a short moment after; I’m yours as long as you are mine… maybe I’ll always be yours anyway.

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