You and him, curled up together and quietly watching the sunset over the sparkling water, feet buried in the warm sand as a pile of seashells sat next to you, no need for him to leave or go to work and no reason for you to be separated.
But his alarm cut that all out, bringing him back to reality and the fact that if he ever wanted that, then he better get to work.
That trip to Malaysia wasn't going to pay for itself.
But oh how he wishes it would. He wishes the two of you could just disappear. No work emails, no sorcerer meetings, just the two of you over 500 miles away from anyone that could interrupt his peace.
Nanami lets out a heavy sigh, he knew he should go to work, he knew he shouldn't be late, but oh how tempting it was to close his eyes, to sink back into the warmth of the covers and of you.
Despite how his body begged him to stay, slowly, he uncoiled himself from around you, he stood up, the material of his sweatpants swishing as he slowly walked to his closet, getting dressed in his usual suit.
The day was going to be long, as was every day he was forced to leave his quiet and warm sanctuary.
But duty calls.
As he began to head out the door, he glanced back towards your sleeping form, curled up inside one of his shirts and nestled next to the pillow he replaced himself with.
He knew you liked to say goodbye to him in the mornings, yet he couldn't bring himself to wake up your peaceful form.
A gentle forehead kiss was his way of saying sorry for having to leave for work.
Oh how he wished he stayed on those mornings.
Oh how he regretted it. How he regretted leaving you so much for work, how he regretted not having enough time to be stuck to his side like he wanted to.
Now, his eyes were heavy, but for a different reason.
He was exhausted, blood dripping from him and pooling on the floor of the Shibuya Station. He was so tired, he just wished he could be back there, in your bed.
Oh how he wished he had let himself rest in your arms just a little more.
He could see it just now, his dream right in front of him. He could feel the warmth of the sun, the wind in his hair. He could hear the waves crashing, the rustling of the palm leaves, the feeling of you leaning against him.
You had never noticed it, the hesitation, the awkwardness.
But it was there.
It was there in the messages left on delivered, the conversations that felt almost stale, like every ounce of affection had dried out.
So naturally, you put more effort into it. Checked in more, scheduled plans, sparked conversations even if it felt uncomfortable to reach out, just to be left on delivered for hours, waiting for someone who never quite felt the absence like you.
Sure, in person when you hung out if felt good, normal. But it was those times where he had other friends, other options other than you. And maybe you were overreacting, just jealous. But that didn't stop the overthinking.
Was there another girl? Did he not find you attractive anymore? Or were you just boring now?
There were too many possibilities, too little time.
You picked at your skin, tore out your hair, just wanting to be like those pretty girls, the ones who never had to want for a guy to love them back.
You tried the silent treatment, tried waiting longer before texting back, but it always seemed like it affected you more than him.
The worst part of it was the spiral afterwards. Missing assignments were piling up but it was hard enough to get out of bed and put on an outfit in the morning.
Maybe it was because there was no one else for you to talk to, not after you poured out everything you had for this boy, this man who didn't even feel for you anymore.
Maybe you just weren't worth the effort, or worth any effort.
Maybe you would always be the one to give, but no one would ever give back.
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A/N: sorry for the angst yall just been feeling it within the past week, maybe a littleeeee self reflective but I wrote this in like 10 min so yk like idk how to deal with a man yall, im trying but i feel like they have more mood swings than me, and idk how to share my own feelings when he is all the time, like dont get me wrong, i love him to death but im scared its gonna reach a breaking point and there goes out relationship
Warnings: SMUT, little bit voyerism/exhibitionism, slight choking, fingers in mouth, p in v (obv), RAW, riding, backshots
A/N: I LOVE BACKSHOTS I miss my bf the roads r too icy to go see him soooooooo, Toji smut helps Lowkey first time writing for Toji idek why bc he's def in my top 5 idk ill do more if people request him.
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You firmly set your phone on the table, your fingers itching to give in, to text him.
It was a cycle, every time.
No matter who you were with, whatever new guy you had, it was like a magnetic force pulling you right back to him.
No matter how many people he beat up that you tried to go on dates with.
No matter how many times you'd wake up the morning after, alone in your bed, his scent lingering on the pillows.
He could be the devil himself with how he tempted you. He didn't even have to say or do anything, just his existence pulled you towards him.
It had been over 2 weeks since you'd seen him, 2 weeks since you started to try to move on with this new guy, Adam.
And it had been a week since you realized it wasn't gonna last long.
It wasn't Adam's fault, it was just that you couldn't stay away from Toji Fushiguro.
You knew it was pointless, he still hadn't gotten over his dead wife that haunted his eyes whenever he came over. After all, he had to look into those same eyes whenever he went home to his son.
But still, you didn't know what it was about him, maybe it was the way he stared at you over his drink whenever he saw you with someone else at the bar, one eyebrow raised, that stupid smirk on his face knowing it wouldn't be long til you were back under him.
Maybe it was the way he just popped up everywhere you went, offering to pay for your meal as long as he could join you, glaring at any other man you were with, even with another woman on his arm.
Maybe it was how he looked on top of you, his dark hair dangling in your face as he fucked you senseless.
All you knew was that you were addicted to him like a drug... which is why you were now giving up and texting him...
Come over.
Toji didn't respond, he never did. But you knew he'd show up to your house in a few minutes, letting himself in.
You really didn't mean to give him a key to your house, he just took your spare on the counter.
You sat at your kitchen table, tapping the fake wood anxiously.
Time crawled past as you waited before you heard his car pull up, not getting up from your chair as the door opened and closed, the sound of a key hitting your countertop and his boots coming up behind you.
"Took longer than usual," you greeted, your voice stiff.
"I'll make it up to you," he spoke lowly behind you, pulling you up from your chair and turning you around harshly, not even giving you time to see his face before his lips were on yours.
He wasted no time, one of his hands on your jaw, keeping your lips against his as his other hand traveled down your back, pushing you forward against him.
Toji's hand squeezed your jaw, a silent command to give him access to your mouth.
Wanting to toy with him, you kept your lips firmly closed, pressing harder against him as your hands gripped his shoulders.
A low sound came from his throat and he pushed you back against the table, your top half laying on the table as he held you down, his hand on your jaw moving down to your throat, lightly squeezing. His other hand moved under your shirt, his hand gripping you just below your bra.
You arched against him, your hands pulling him down with you so he was on top of you, your fingers raking his scalp.
Toji let out a low groan, muttering curses against your lips as he pulled you up, picking you up as he carried you to your bedroom, already knowing the way by heart.
His lips were on your neck, your head tilted back as he laid you down on your wrinkled sheets.
He sat back to look at you before his hands moved to take your pants and underwear off, his fingers dragging in that spot between your legs as he pulled them off, his eyes half-lidded, that same smirk on his face.
He tossed your clothes to the floor, standing up to kick off his shoes and to take his pants off.
You watched him unbuckle his belt, eyes flicking up to his face as he stared at you, his head tilted slightly.
Oh he was giving you a show alright, tugging his shirt over his head and pulling his boxers down, keeping eye contact as much as possible.
You tugged your shirt off, not getting enough time to pull off your bra before he was on you again, kissing and biting your throat and chest before pulling you on top of him, his hand rubbing your slick all over your clit and down to your cunt, pushing two fingers in easily.
You tilt your head back letting out a breathy sigh as your legs instinctively spread wider for him.
"Missed me, doll?" Toji breathed as his lips traveled to your neck.
You could feel his stupid smirk as you stayed quiet, trying to stop the little sounds that threatened to pass through your lips.
Toji didn't like that, giving your neck a bite as his thumb rubbed your clit as his fingers moved faster, finally drawing a quiet whimper from you.
"There you go baby, that's it," he muttered against your neck, the fingers on his other hand slipping between your lips, rubbing against your tongue.
You let out a small moan and clenched around his fingers, bucking your hips slightly.
"Ah, ah, ah," he tuts, pulling his fingers out and giving a sharp slap before shoving them in quickly. "Hips still," Toji croons, tongue trailing along your exposed collarbone.
You start to protest but are silenced as he pulls you up and switches positions with you, him lying on his back as you sit on his thighs, his cock right in front of you.
Toji grins, settling his arms behind his head as he raises an eyebrow, "Well?"
You huffed and took held of him and balanced on your knees before slowly lowering yourself down, head tossing back as he filled you up.
One thing about Toji was that he was vocal. Loud even, sometimes louder than you.
His head also fell back, his hands going to your hips to take hold of you, letting out a groan as you rolled your hips, "Fuck yeah I missed this cunt. Let me guess, you've been trying to find someone else but no one else quite hits the spot, eh?"
You didn't respond, too concentrated on moving yourself up and down on his cock, your hands grasping his shoulders for leverage.
He sat up a bit to unclasp your bra, his hands immediately going to your breasts, squeezing them before latching his mouth around one nipple, his tongue swirling around it before gently biting it. At your gasp he soothed over the hurt with his lips before giving the same treatment to the other, lewd sounds leaving his mouth the whole time.
With one last squeeze he laid back down, his eyes not leaving them as your rocked your hips.
You continued to rotate your hips, occasionally rising so only the tip of him was inside you, something he clearly hated by the way he'd try to slam you down each time.
As you continued to toy with him, he grew increasingly more frustrated, pressing his head hard into your pillow, letting out a needy groan before he snapped, grabbing your hips and slamming you down repeatedly.
You could feel his eyes on your chest as you leaned your head back, arching slightly at his attention.
"There ya go sweetheart," Toji murmured, his fingers raking at your chest.
Gods you were so close. Your thoughts were starting to get fuzzy, the only thing present was him, him.
He was all around you, inside your body and brain. You were being consumed by him, the idea of him.
That was, until he stopped.
You let out a desperate whine as he stopped moving, his hands on your hips to keep you in place.
As you descended from whatever heavenly place you were heading, you realized why he stopped.
Your phone was ringing, the glaring name of Adam Kent on the screen.
Toji gave you a look, "Well aren't you going to answer it?"
You shook your head, there was no way you'd answer any guy's call while sitting on another guy's dick, a guy you said you're done with, for good this time.
He shrugged and pulled out, flipping you over and leaning over top of you, pushing back into you with no resistance.
He then grabbed your phone and clicked the answer option.
Your eyes filled with horror and you opened your mouth to protest but one of his hands wrapped around your throat.
Toji grinned as he slowly moved inside you, his thrusts slower, but deeper, savoring the feeling of your warmth clenching around him as his hand around your throat prevented you from telling him to hang up.
"Hello? Where are you? Why haven't you been answering my calls? Hello?" Adam's voice asked through the phone speakers.
"What's up man?" Toji asked grinning, his eyes on you.
His hand left your throat, pinning your wrists above your head as he picked up his pace, watching your eyes roll back as you tried to keep quiet.
An awkward beat passed before Adam spoke again, "Who is this? Did you take her phone?"
Toji laughed, partly to disguise his groan at feeling your gummy walls clench around him, "Trust me, I think your gonna find out soon."
He set the phone back on the nightstand before pulling out and slamming into you fully. You weren't able to stop the strangled moan the spilled from your lips.
Through the lewd sounds of your moans and the sounds of your bodies, you could faintly hear Adam sputtering and yelling something.
Toji laughed, picking up the phone and bringing it close to your face, "You ever heard these sounds before? I doubt it. You see, I make her feel so good she asks for me to come over, not because she feels bad for me, but because I'm the only one that can fuck her like this. C'mon lift your hips for me, love," he mutters.
You obey instantly, letting out a whine as the new angle let him drive deeper into you.
"That's it, good girl," he groaned, throwing his head back, one of his hands kneading your ass as the other one slides into your hair and gently pulls you back into a mean arch.
It was too much, him moving inside you, he was tearing you apart, hitting deep inside your velvety cunt that had you gushing around him, lewd, slick noises echoing through the speakerphone.
"You close doll?" Toji panted, "Show 'em those sounds only I can make you feel."
Almost by his command, you fell apart, your legs shaking as you orgasmed, your back arching and your eyes rolling back. You spasmed around his hard cock, feeling it twitch inside you.
He slowed down, careful not to overstimulate you but wanting to prolong your pleasure as much as possible.
As you slowly regained your senses, you saw him watching you, an unusual look in his eyes.
You could feel that he was close, his cock throbbing inside your walls. As his hand slithered down to play with your clit, you whimpered and clenched around him.
That was his breaking point. Toji let out a whiny groan and pulled out quickly, sitting up to cum all over your back, watching as it trickled down the curve of your ass.
Groaning, he got up, stretching as he reached to grab a Kleenex to wipe his cum off of you. Immediately after he flipped you over and collapsed on top of you, his face buried between your breasts, breathing heavily against you.
You could hear the sound of Adam still talking. Groaning internally, you grabbed your phone, immediately pressing the end call button. You tossed your phone, it clattering somewhere else in your room, it didn't really matter.
Toji chuckled, nosing further into you, "Not wanting to talk eh?"
Snorting, your responded quickly, "Not to him."
Despite your better judgement, you craved him. Your hands started gently combing through his hair, ignoring his quick intake of breath.
It didn't matter anyway, right? He'd leave sometime in the night and you'd wake up, alone, all cleaned up.
Toji let out a sigh against you, his hands comfortably trailing on your sides.
God he felt so good against you, so warm, like he belonged there.
His hands gently lulled you into a sleepy state, only aware of him laying on top of you, breathing softly.
You felt comfortable and content, your hands stilling in his hair as she slipped beyond the veil of unconsciousness.
As the beams of sun flickered through your opened curtains, you blinked blearily to the sight of you alone in your bed.
You weren't surprised but some part of your heart sunk at the familiarity.
As usual, you were cleaned up, left in the same position you fell asleep in.
You slipped on some underwear and a sweatshirt, listening to the grumbles sounding from your stomach.
Cursing, you nearly tripped over your phone, still lying in the floor after you threw it. You quickly checked it, no cracks, just a ton of missed calls and ignored texts from Adam.
Oh well, it was bound to end sometime soon anyway. It's not like you were even together. He was just some guy who added you to his roster of girls.
You froze as you heard a clatter from inside your kitchen. Grabbing the scissors on your desk, you tip toed to your kitchen, peeking around the corner, the sight nearly making you drop your makeshift weapon.
Toji was there, standing in your kitchen, cooking.
You didn't know which was more surprising, the fact he was still here or the fact he knew how to cook.
Well clearly not very well, judging by the way he was cursing as he banged on the side of your toaster.
He turned around as he heard your footsteps, giving you a sheepish smile as he gestured to your toaster, "Sorry for making a racket it's just this thing ain't working."
You raised an eyebrow, "Maybe because you haven't plugged it in."
"Oh, yeah, of course," he trailed off, finally getting it to work, "Why are you giving me that look?"
Clearing your throat, you looked away, "Well... I was just surprised you stayed."
He grimaced, "Yeah, I'm sorry I haven't been doing that. I guess I just thought you just wanted a quick fuck."
You paused, "Why on Earth would you thi-," you cut yourself off, sniffing, "Did you burn something?" He froze instantly, "Oh shit the eggs!" He ran over to the stove, his shoulders slumping as he turned off the stove, revealing the half raw, half burnt mush.
You suppressed your chuckle, "It's okay, I'll order something."
Toji shook his head, "Nah, I'll pay. I'll also have to pay for a new skillet most likely."
A quiet ding! sounded from the toaster, two black pieces of toast popping up.
He sighed, getting his phone out and going to the DoorDash app, "C'mere," he said, pulling you into his lap, "Let's find something to eat."
Toji paused, looking at you suggestively with a grin.
"Don't even think about it," you warned, "I'm hungry too."
He sighed and shook his head, "After you eat then."
When your kingdom is under attack and your husband mysteriously dies, the emperor extends an invitation to you. What could he possibly want that he just couldn't take?
A/N: Y'all this took forever like I've started school and I took a little break bc I got a bf but he's just as weird if not weirder than I am so we're good chat, enjoy babiesssss also lmk if any tags for medieval series
Your kingdom was under siege.
It had been under siege for the past several months, various attacks from the empire that surrounded you on all borders. Your people were hungry and tired and overworked trying to fend off the massive armies.
Your husband, the king, had spared no care for his people dropping like flies left and right, too busy caring about his own honor. What kind of king would he be if he just surrendered?
All your neighboring countries had been taken over, the emperor’s armies slowly infiltrating and leaking the life out of their land. Now, your former allies had all turned against you, only a puppet for the Emperor Sukuna to use to vanquish your helpless people. And maybe they wouldn’t be as helpless if it wasn’t for your husband who sent all supplies and food and energy into keeping the armies supplied, drafting as many people as he could, the male population shrinking as more and more of them got conscripted.
But, as queen, as a woman, you didn’t have much of a choice. Every morning you awoke from your separate room, was dressed to your husband’s liking and paraded through the castle and meetings and audiences like a puppet. You’d receive lewd glances and comments from advisors and nobles alike, forced to keep your mouth and legs shut until your husband deemed so. You played a deaf ear to the audible sounds of young women being brought to your husband’s room late at night.
You’d been dragged on horseback through battlefields for hours just to meet with the Emperor Sukuna and listen to your husband’s arrogant tone as he bragged to the Emperor. You and some of the servants would stand in the back for hours, legs stiff and sore, praying that you wouldn’t be killed by your husband’s audacity.
Occasionally, in those longer meetings, some of the Emperor’s servants would tend to you and your maids quietly, offering chairs and drinks and food, all behind your husband’s back.
The entire castle suffered in silence, forced to watch your people suffer loudly on the battlefield.
That was, until you woke early, hearing a scream of terror sounding from your husband’s separate room.
You rushed there, quickly as guards fell in step with you, their duty to you, not your husband. Inside the room, your husband lay on his bed, the rich silk sheets soaked red with blood. His eyes were still closed, like he hadn’t been woken when his final breath left his punctured lungs.
Servants rushed to you, gently removing you from the room, away from the gruesome, (but satisfying), scene of your husba-...
Your former husband’s death.
Oh how that small word held so much freedom. You were no longer a placeholder, queen in name only. Now, you were queen, you held all the power of your entire kingdom in your hand.
No children, no male relatives meant that you could rule in total power. No more being a silent puppet, a trophy, you were free now.
Your people weren’t going to die anymore.
Surprisingly, you went out on the front lines, directly against the emperor’s forces along with your army.
The battlefield was drenched in blood, armor and bodies underfoot as your mounts charged forward, metal armor on their sides and front.
You were side by side with your soldiers, dressed in identical attire as them, a simple breastplate with armor and chainmail, a sword strapped on your hip. Thankfully, your helmet hid enough of your face for most of the army to not recognize you.
Only a select few generals were aware of your disguise, the rest believing that you were still in your castle, mourning the death of your husband.
How funny.
Swords and spears clashed and arrows reigned overhead, shot by archers far back behind your city walls. The stench of metal and rot stunk the air, the dead beginning to decay from the constant heat.
Thankfully, it had rained yesterday, washing most of the heat away, but the terrain proved treacherous, thick, heavy mud crusting armor and horse’s hooves as your forces charged, connecting with the empire’s black armored lackeys.
When your wave got there, most of the fighting was already continuing, your sections just finishing or helping out your allies.
But that’s when you spotted him.
Clad in elaborate armor, Emperor Sukuna stood in a slight clearing, laughing joyously as his long weapons swept through your forces. Your men didn’t stand a chance against his brute force and long range.
At least, not on foot.
While his back was turned, you charged right at him, your steed’s hooves stomping over fallen bodies as it rushed. Drawing your sword, you leaned to the side, letting the momentum carry the sharp edge to his head, his helmetless head.
With a rough twang!, your strike was interrupted by a sword swung by a man with long black hair, an ugly stitched scar on his forehead.
General Kenjaku, known well for his cruelty and beastility towards your forces. He was a brilliant mind, patient and cunning, but with an ugly heart. He had tortured your men and raped your women all while taunting the throne.
To say less, it was very satisfying to see a sword plunge through his gut, driven by one of your close generals, Satoru Gojo, able to sneak up while Kenjaku was distracted with you.
Sukuna whipped around, eyes narrowing as he saw his General go down, his spear slipping right between the cracks in your horse’s armor as his other hand, holding his sword dug into Satoru's side, falling right next to Kenjaku.
Satoru’s white hair was stained with blood as he fell next to the body of Kenjaku, crimson blood mixing with the brown of the mud.
Your horse’s leg buckled, falling towards Sukuna as you pushed yourself off the opposite way, Sukuna’s long sword swooshing right where you were sitting on your saddle.
He snarls and advances, stepping over your horse and throwing his spear on the ground, drawing his sword.
Sukuna wasn’t angry that Kenjaku was killed, he couldn’t care less if a pawn died, what he was pissed about is that you caught him off guard. You would’ve killed him if Kenjaku interfered.
You would’ve killed him when he was weak.
His first strike is pure fury, a harsh swing directed to your side, clanking against your own blade, arms straining at the force. Again, he takes a step forward, swinging and slashing and stabbing.
Your blades ring and scrape, fighting happening all around you, but no one dares to challenge or interrupt the Emperor when he is in battle.
Each block, your shoulders jar, straining and aching as you take the brunt of his attacks. You may be deflecting the blade, but the force is still there.
Sukuna slows down, focusing more on strategy and not anger as he gets more precise and trickier, accessing in a game of mental chess. As he slashes, he pulls up, dislodging your helmet.
It falls off, leaving your face bare.
The Emperor’s lips curve into a grin, “And here I thought you’d be mourning your poor husband.”
You don’t give him the effort of a response, gritting your teeth and swinging.
He parries it with ease now, more curious than angry, laughing at your attempt, “Do you soldiers know their queen fights among them like a common peasant, or was this your clever idea to beat me?”
You keep fighting, now more on offense versus defense, your sword darting and jabbing and feinting to try to find a chink in his defense.
His moves were flawless, so simple that they caught you off guard. He didn’t use any more brute force, just dodging and parrying when necessary.
But the ground was muddy and crowded, your foot catching on one of the fallen soldier’s armor, stumbling forward, Sukuna easily knocking your weapon out of your hands, leaving you defenseless.
He grins, his horrid mouth baring his teeth as advanced, grabbing your arm and yanking you towards him.
“Come with me, and I won’t kill you,” he whispers in your ear.
With your proximity, you grab the knife from his belt and slot it right next to his vulnerable neck. He grins, dropping his sword and letting you back away.
“You’re mad,” you hiss, snatching a sword from the ground, keeping a careful eye on him.
“Mad?” he repeats, eyes roving over your face and blood coated armor, the cut on your cheek, and your clenched jaw. “Perhaps, but being mad when it comes to you, my queen, feels like sanity.”
Before you can snap back, you’re yanked to the side, being pulled onto a horse by Satoru Gojo. His arm was bracketed tightly around his side, putting pressure on his wound from Sukuna.
Sukuna’s gaze darkens as he sees Satoru pull you up, away from him. He raises his sword, ready to cut the poor horse down but hesitates as he sees you scan the fallen, searching the faces of your fallen soldiers.
He signals to his troops to withdraw from the fight, one of the generals blowing a loud horn that the men immediately respond to, abandoning their fight and retreating.
Sukuna doesn’t move, just watches your back as you are taken away from him. He doesn’t bother himself with going after you.
Besides, he’d see you soon enough.
By the end of the week, the number of deaths and people conscripted were cut in half, the people praising you, practically worshipping you. Mercifully, the emperor’s army drew back slightly, giving you more than enough time to regroup and think about your next move before the next wave began.
You punished wrongdoers and removed some of the corrupted advisors and nobles, the various servants able to work without being harassed now. The kingdom was peaceful, but you remained on edge, knowing it wouldn’t be long before Sukuna would come back.
And come back he did.
About a week later, you received a letter, the envelope unmarred and pristine, the wax seal unbroken and intricate. The parchment was rich and the penmanship smooth.
To the free queen,
I assume you have found your current situation quite pleasing, the unrivaled power, the complete jurisdiction. Now, just know that the satisfaction and power you feel right now can be taken away in an instant. I withdrew my troops in well wishings of your new rule. Nobles and advisors left and right will take any chance to stab you in the back, like your so unfortunate husband.
I advise you to meet with me at noon tomorrow and the eastern border to perhaps negotiate and discuss terms about your new power and discuss the future conquest of your kingdom. You will not be able to prevent it, so do not try. But perhaps we can come to a few terms we can agree to, I imagine your future fate will be a lot kinder.
Besides, I wouldn’t want to have to take your newly found freedom away.
His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Sukuna
His stupid signature glared at you from the bottom of the page. The thick, red, swirls that cursed out his name took up the whole bottom half of the parchment. That pompous bastard, thinking could just march in and threaten your people like he had any right to speak, much less insult you. But, you would have to go to the so-called “negotiation” if you had any hopes in preventing the destruction of your people.
You paused as you reread it, seeing the date in the corner.
Five days before your husband was killed.
He wrote this letter, before your husband died, talking about his death. There was no doubt he had something to do with his death, yet you weren’t angry in the sense of sorrow, you were angry because it went just according to his stupid plan.
The power of an emperor, to move kings around like pawns, knocking them over once they lived out their use.
It made no sense though, why would he kill your husband but not you? Why kill the king when there is still a queen?
Perhaps he thought you were weak, willing to let a gust of wind push you over, bending the knee for anyone who asked.
The news of the negotiation reached outside of the palace walls by the end of the day. The entire kingdom felt like their days were numbered, the Emperor of Fate ready to snip the thread of their life and their freedom any day now.
The following afternoon, your maids dressed you for battle. A metal and gold breastplate over your chest over finely woven chainmail with limited skirt for freer movement. Every exposed inch of you was covered in some sort of protection, even a helmet, one thats top had crown detailing adorned your brow. A sword at your hip, one that had been passed down from kings and warriors before reaching you. Several of your knights followed behind, your entire group on armored horses.
You didn’t look how you did on the battlefield last time you saw him, you no longer looked like a simple footsoldier, no, you looked like a goddess of war, a symbol.
As you got closer to the border, the signs of previous conflict grew, barren wastelands with birds circling above, armor and bodies scattered around. A bright red tent was visible just past it, up on a hill, braziers burning next to the entrance and the ornately decorated guards.
Once you reached the top, the fold of the tent parted, a short figure with a white bob approaching you as you dismounted your horses.
The person bowed to you, “I am Uraume, His Imperial Majesty’s messenger, he asks you to leave all of your guards outside, as none of his are inside.”
It has to be a trap, there was no way he managed to get you in the middle of a barren wasteland, unpopulated and destroyed while so close to his territory and expect you to walk in practically defenseless. As far as you knew, thirty soldiers could be waiting inside, waiting to slaughter you as soon as you entered, where no one could hear your screams.
But you didn’t have much of a choice, Sukuna had made that clear.
So you let out a breath and enter, your armored guards standing vigil outside.
The inside of the tent was large, maps set up on crates, tables, and desks, little colored objects depicting armies as if it was some childish game. There were small symbols of wealth everywhere, a golden and silver chessboard with the pieces carved out of rare gems, silk and velvet pillows were scattered around the room leisurely like the place wasn’t right next to a war ground.
But what stood out was the man sitting on a throne-like chair. His hand held up his chin as the sharp red eyes studied you. He didn’t move, almost like an ancient statue, well, he sure looked like one. Rich robes draped across his form, vibrant pink hair framing a sharp face with even sharper eyes. The very way he looked at you felt like he was peeling you apart, trying to take you down without even moving a muscle.
The stare of the Emperor.
You didn’t speak, standing close to the tent, hand on your sword. He appeared unarmed, yet, you had no doubt he could take you down as easy as breathing.
“You come to negotiate peace, yet dress for war, Your Imperial Majesty,” Sukuna drawls.
“You cannot threaten me and expect me to dress for peace,” you respond coolly, taking your helmet off and setting it on the table next to you. You meant to mock him on purpose, make it seem like you didn’t consider him a threat.
What you couldn’t get out of your mind was why he called you an Imperial Majesty. It was a title only reserved and addressed to emperors. You were a queen, yes, but even then you were only addressed to as Your Majesty.
His lips curve into a smile, either at your comment or your taunt. “Fair play. Ah, I must give my condolences to you.”
His condolences?
Oh right, your husband had died a mere two weeks ago.
“I couldn’t help to notice your date on the letter you sent me was written five days before my husband was killed,” you say, keeping your tone carefully neutral.
Sukuna tilted his head, eyes filled with amusement as he leaned down, “Are you insinuating that I might have something to do with it, my lady?”
You smiled, teeth bared and took a seat, “Of course not, just an odd coincidence to find. However, I do wonder why my husband was killed but not I?”
Oh how you despised this man in front of you. Sure, he might’ve gotten rid of your husband, but at the cost of the majority of your population.
“Perhaps they knew that you’d be better suited as a ruler than him,” he says slyly.
You clear your throat, you weren’t here to waste time, you were here to try to find a way to protect your people.
“And what of my people? Will they benefit under my rule?” You ask boldly.
He’s quiet for a moment, gaze scrutinizing, “I will give you options. You can either give in and your people will be under my rule, but will not be slaughtered, or, you can wait and see and I can take your kingdom by force. Remember, you are a kingdom, but I am an empire.”
“But what of me? Will you dispose of me as you did with my husband?” You interject, not caring about formalities or about the fact you were speaking to a man who held your fate in the palm of his hand.
“You? I do not plan to dispose of you. Give in, be my bride, be my empress and your people will remain unharmed, your kingdom the empire’s capital,” Sukuna said, his gaze cool and level as he studied you.
So your options were basically give in and be his wife, or refuse and have your kingdom taken by siege, and then be forced to be his wife, only this time, as a spoil of war.
But, you wanted to keep him on edge and waiting as long as possible, “And how long do I have to decide?”
He glances at you, amused, “I’ll give you five days, if I do not hear from you before, then my soldiers will be knocking at your door on the sixth.”
It was a threat, that much was clear, yet it didn’t feel like one. And even then, why did he want you to be his bride anyway?
You stood up, fuming, and started to bow stiffly before he raised his hand with a sharp look, “Never bow or lower your eyes when you are talking to an enemy, especially with no head protection.”
He peered down at you from his makeshift throne, lips pressed together in disapproval, “You do realize you are a queen? You have no need to bow.”
With a curt nod, you walk out, your face hiding all the confusion you felt underneath. Your knights and horse were still there waiting, a tense silence in between them and Uraume as you climbed on your mount. Uraume doesn’t move, giving you a nod, most likely already knowing Sukuna’s proposition.
You returned it silently, if you were going to be married, then you should at least find someone who’s on your side. Besides, it might prove beneficial to get possible information and weaknesses about your new “husband”.
The journey back was long, nothing filling the silence and nothing distracting you from your thoughts. Would Sukuna be as monstrous as he was known for? Did he really plan to make you his wife, or was it just a tactic for you to give in? Maybe he planned to lock you away as soon as he had you.
It was useless, to wonder, to fear, it would be better spending your time planning on how to survive in the cutthroat of the emperor’s inner circle.
That night after you undressed and bathed, you sat in the library next to the big window, letting your hair dry from the fire as you were left with your thoughts.
You’d bring some of your own people of course. Your maids were the ones you’d had since birth, they were the only ones you’d ever trusted. Maybe you’d bring a few musicians with you, after all, they’d probably have better success in such a larger court.
Maybe a few days later you’d send him your acceptance letter, but tonight you weren’t going to concern yourself with the man. Or his eyes, or his hair, or the way he looked in his armor…
No, an enemy was an enemy. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right?
That night, before you went to bed, your helmet you left at Sukuna’s tent was sitting on your window, looking polished and shinier than before. There was no sign of any entry to your room, none of the maids or guards reporting seeing anyone. As you picked it up, there was a small flower inside, a single pink orchid, the same shade as Sukuna’s hair.
You sighed and tossed the flower out the window, setting your helmet on your table, crawling into bed and shutting your eyes.
Every night, before you went to bed for the next few days, you found another fresh pink orchid sitting on your windowsill. You had guards and maids keep lookouts and prevent anyone coming inside, yet the flowers didn’t stop.
One night you decided to leave the old one on your windowsill, waking up to find another one next to it. You’d given up trying to prevent them, growing expectant to have them show up.
Yet on the fifth night, you had no choice but to send your letter, giving up your freedom once again.
Emperor Sukuna,
I accept to be your wife on my terms. I will be empress, and I will still live the majority of my time in my current household. My people will not be harmed and they will be cared for as well as my city becoming the capital of our empire. I will have freedom to come and go as I please and I will be treated on equal status as you.
Her Imperial Majesty
Miles away, the fearsome Imperial Majesty, the Curse King himself cracked a smile at your audacity.
Her Imperial Majesty?
It was good that you already knew your place.
The next day, Uraume arrived at your palace, several of the emperor’s guards in step, each one of them bowing to you.
“Your Imperial Majesty, I have been told to escort you back to the Emperor. I suggest you pack travel clothing for we will be visiting the current temporary capital to tell the rest of the empire of the marriage and changes,” Uraume spoke, rising from their deep bow.
You glanced at them and the guards behind them, “Am I meant to travel alone?”
The advisor briefly hesitates, “His Imperial Majesty says that you are welcome to bring a few personal companions, as long as they do not complain and can handle the journey.”
With a nod, you welcomed them inside, letting the servants give them tea and food as you packed light, having a short meeting with your closest knights and advisors, filling them in on your plan for the kingdom’s future.
When you went back downstairs, you had a small bag, only full of necessities. You had decided not to bring any maids or knights, who knows what danger they could be in once you arrived to the heart of the empire.
Later, you departed from your castle with Uraume and Sukuna’s knights, venturing back to the same exact tent you had been in several days prior.
Sukuna was waiting outside, dressed in red billowing robes inlaid with gold, the same crimson color of his eyes that stared at you. He held the reins of two horses, both a rich black that practically glistened in the sun.
“My wife,” he greeted, watching as you dismounted your own horse.
“Sukuna,” you returned, inclining your head slightly.
The barest glimpse of a smile ghosted his lips before he offered you one of the reins, his hand intentionally brushing yours.
You held back a grimace, did this man know how much blood was stained into his hands, or did he even care?
“I see you’ve brought your own horses, but let me give this one to you. Think of it as one of my wedding gifts. My general can take yours back to your castle, I assure you,” he said, like he was trying to reassure you. “We must leave quickly, the journey would be long and traveling at night would not be welcoming.”
You knew he was right, too many stories have been heard about bandits or monsters that lurked in the thick brush that not even the mighty emperor could control.
Sukuna stood by your side as you mounted the horse he gave you, one hand on its chest like he was steadying it for you to get on. It was only once you were safely up on your horse did he mount his.
Surprisingly, he led the path side by side with you. You had expected to be next to him and sandwiched in between guards in front and behind like most royal parades.
But perhaps it was because some part of Sukuna liked the thought of not being protected. Some feral part of him relished it, hoping that something would leap out of the trees, giving him a reason to use the large sword strapped to his thigh.
He also knew that you could protect yourself, but he’d have enough space and momentum to at least get you out of the way.
After all, what use would a pretty wife be if she’s dead?
Hours of riding later, you reached the outer gates of the heart of his empire. The beautiful city of Nara rising in the distance.
You’d heard stories of the city, famous for its art and sophistication, a home of inventors, artists, musicians, and innovative thinkers to surround the emperor.
Your entire kingdom looked like the slums compared to the carefully constructed houses and streets, all that led to a humongous palace in the center of the city.
People on the streets stopped to watch the procession, you and Sukuna on horses made of midnight, the sun setting from behind you, framing your clothing in liquid gold.
As you glanced around, your gaze lingered on Sukuna. He looked like a King of Hell, his pink hair looking like flames in the dim light, robes spilling across his form like blood. He turned to look at you, molten eyes amused as he watched you take in the city.
That’s when you realized.
The people were throwing flowers.
All sorts of flowers, different shapes, different colors. Some were clearly bought from stores while others looked like they were handpicked from fields.
The people were rejoicing. Their emperor, their savior, had come back.
To them, he was doing what was necessary, doing things to benefit their empire, all while your people were being slaughtered by his own.
You regretted not killing your husband yourself when you heard of what he was doing. How many lives could you have saved? How many children wouldn’t have had to be sent to the front lines?
And this man beside you was the cause of it all.
How many people has he killed in his conquests? How many children have no fathers, no mothers? How many families now have empty spots at the table? How many parents have outlived their children?
The number would be too high to count. Some stories would never be told, some people were silenced, their voices snatched away before they could even speak.
And even worse were the people left behind.
How many of them were slaves now? How many were starving, barely able to survive day by day? How many were begging just for a chance to have their old life back?
But that was how the world worked. One set of people were shoved down so the other could reap the benefits.
But now you were in a position to change it. You could change the future of this empire, you could benefit your people.
That very night, before the sun had set, you had your coronation.
Maids had swept you up the second you entered the palace, bathing you and clothing you in a ridiculously ornate gown, twisting your hair up and powdering your face.
It felt like you were being weighed down by the amount of jewels and skirts you were wearing, not even mentioning all of the gems that were inlaid into your bodice. The sleeves were itchy and tight and your hair was pinned so tightly it felt like it was stretching your skin on your face.
You looked like a doll.
You hated it.
This wasn’t your first coronation, but this one was by far the grandest and most elaborate thing you’d ever seen. There were tables upon tables of food, stuffy nobles and important people flitting through the room, flutes of expensive liquors in their gloved hands. Flowers and gold covered every possible surface as you gazed in from outside.
When it was your time to come in, everyone was seated as you strode up to the dais, Sukuna waiting in elaborate garb while holding a crown that was identical to the one nestled in his pink locs. Both were gold and gleaming, every inch inlaid with gems and glistening in the torchlight.
He stood stiffer than you’d seen him, every movement calculated and precise as he lowered the crown onto your bowed head, taking your hand and pulling you up next to him.
As you had been informed by the maids, this ceremony was to serve as your coronation as well as your marriage versus letting you have more attention than just one night.
After that, the two of you practically stood there for nearly an hour, accepting congratulations from people who were clearly lying through their teeth, bitter that a foreigner could somehow marry the emperor instead of a noble daughter.
It was painful to sit there with that heavy ass crown on your head, your dress weighed down with all sorts of gems while your heels dug into your feet. But, you smiled and pretended to be as sincere as the people.
Once the people filed out, Sukuna sighed and took his crown off, setting it on the table next to him, sprawling out on one of the dinner chairs.
“You can eat you know,” he drawls, looking at you with amused eyes, loosening his shoulders and grabbing a rib of lamb. “I had the chefs make everything, I didn’t know what you liked. Also, I assume you didn’t have much time to eat before.”
He doesn’t bother with plates so neither do you, grabbing food straight off the trays that lined the long tables.
As you slide in the chair next to him, eating off the pile of cheese in front of you, he gently reaches out and takes the crown off your head, setting it next to his with a shrug, “Figured it was heavy.”
It was quiet, but not uncomfortable, the two of you eating everything from fruit to desserts to meat and cheese and side dishes. There was food you couldn’t even name, odd shaped vegetables and fruits and odd dishes you’d never even heard of.
It was surprisingly peaceful. You could eat as informally as you wanted, no audience or guards watching you eat. You could eat dessert before the main dishes, you could mix foods, play with them all while Sukuna scarfed down dish after dish next to you.
“Is this why you made them cook so much?” You asked, glancing at your husband who had steak juice dripping down his mouth.
He grins and nods, “This is the best part of any gathering.” He pauses, thinking before letting out a snort, “Hell, it's the only good part of any party.”
“I assume you don’t get along with the nobles?” You ask, grabbing a piece of steak before he could eat it all.
Sukuna groans and leans back in his chair, “All they do is lie and introduce me to their daughters like a vendor.”
You laugh, taking another sip from the mostly empty glass of champagne.
He pauses mid chew, staring at you with wide eyes as he watches you laugh. Slowly he comes to his senses and slowly chews before swallowing, “Come with me to my meeting tomorrow.”
“Why?” You ask, propping your chin up on your hand.
He shrugs, “You’re my wife, you’re the empress. I mean no one will force you to come because no one can, but I would like you to be there.”
You nod slowly, processing his words as servants come in and start to clean up the dishes and decorations. The sound of the word made your thoughts grow sour.
His wife.
You were married to a monster, you ate alongside him, you laughed with him. How could you forget about all the deaths he’d caused just because he hadn’t threatened you?
Sukuna stands, offering a hand to you as he leads you through the halls, “Remember, your status is equal to mine.”
True, you now had power to command armies, wipe places off the map, to order someone’s execution like you were ordering dessert.
He leads you into your shared bedroom, a gorgeous room truly fit for an emperor. There was an impossibly large bed on the side wall, curtains draping around the sides. There was a balcony that looked on the gardens as well as the rest of the city beyond the walls. Rich rugs decorated the floor and intricately made tapestries hung from the gold traced walls.
The bathroom was off to the side, a colossal tiled bathtub set into the ground like a pool and an entire wall made from mirrors.
There was another room connected to the bathroom, windows were everywhere, letting you see the last slivers of sun slip beyond the far forest. Stained glass covered the view, letting in a comforting light that shone around the shelves and shelves of books.
Sukuna had his own personal library.
You and Sukuna and a personal library.
One that had comfortable chairs and cushions on every corner, perfect for curling up late at night. One that had a fireplace for the colder months. One that no one else was welcome in.
Sukuna watched each of your reactions carefully, cataloguing them so he’d know what to get you as gifts in the future.
He showed you your closet next, beautiful gowns and sleep clothes and jewelry.
So much jewelry.
You could practically swim in it if you wanted to. Necklaces, bracelets, rings, anklets, crowns, diadems, belts. All in any gem you could possibly desire.
“I didn’t know what you liked,” he said, almost sheepishly.
You turn around and gape at him, “I’ve never seen this many gems in my life.”
A slight satisfied smile flickers at your words, “You are the empress now.”
He was right. But it still didn’t feel real that night as you changed into one of the rich silk nightgowns from your extensive closet and crawled in bed next to your husband. Your husband.
You were at least glad he didn’t expect you to immediately "consummate" the marriage, instead, crawling in the bed on the other side. The space was big enough that you could barely notice him, content to relax in the plush mattress.
After all, you had only met the man less than a week earlier, and now you were wedded and in bed together. A month earlier, you were listening to the man you married bring other women to his separate bedroom.
What a change.
You laid there stiffly until his breathing slowed and he grew still. You had looked around the room earlier, not a single weapon of something you could use to slit his throat, most likely a precaution he’d taken.
Perhaps tomorrow you could search and find one to slip into the layers of your skirts to kill him later.
Right, you’d be patient, and you’d have to be careful. After all, you were laying in bed with a monster.
The next morning, you woke to a couple maids flitting around, drawing you a bath and setting out clothes for the day. They washed your hair with delicious smelling shampoos and lathered sweet lotion on your body.
Once you were dressed, they sat you down in front of a golden gilded mirror to do your hair and makeup. Sukuna watched from where he was sprawled in the sheets, already ready.
He watched as they powdered your face and darkened your lashes and draped you in all sorts of jewels, each color matching his outfit.
Once you were done, the maids were dismissed and Sukuna offered his arm to you, the other one sliding a sword into the belt at your side.
At your questioning look, he shrugs, opening the bedroom door for you as you stepped out, “You never know if you may need it, besides, it makes you look more threatening.”
What a fool, he had just handed his own demise to you without batting an eye.
The journey to the meeting room was awkward. Maids and servants would see the two of you and immediately bow and stare until you rounded the corner, as well did the knights that guarded every entryway.
A pair of knights opened the tall, oak doors as you neared the end of a long hallway, revealing a huge room. There were rows and rows of seats, all facing towards a dais where a large throne sat. Hundreds of faces turned your way once you and Sukuna stepped in, men that looked like they were barely old enough to have children to men whose long beards were whiter than marble.
Sukuna, calm as ever, led you through and up the stone steps to the intricately carved throne. There were scenes of triumph, of conquest and of victory etched into the sides of the throne.
The only sound in the room were the scuffles of your shoes as you were led up, like a lamb to the slaughter.
Before you reached the throne, Sukuna turned around to face the men and purposefully pushed you into the seat.
At once, the room erupted, men jumping up and yelling in protest at the sight of a woman on the throne, their faces red and hair wild.
Sukuna paid no mind, simply standing next to the throne and letting one of his hands rest lazily on your shoulder, reminding you that he was there.
“Do not mind them,” he spoke quietly, “They cannot stand something that does not benefit them.”
His eyes bore into your head as you kept your calm face, squeezing your shoulder gently.
“Silence!” He snapped, raising his voice at the screaming advisors.
Immediately, they stopped, sitting back down in their seats, eyeing the emperor cautiously.
You wondered what his motive was. Why would he place you so highly, over his own court? Was it to test you? Or maybe it was all for show and behind closed doors the tables would flip.
“I told you I would take a wife soon, and I told you that she would be empress. Now bow,” he said curtly, no room for argument, “She is my rank, which is above all of you, remember that.”
There was a moment of hesitation, of complete silence, before slowly, like a waterfall, the crowd of men bowed their heads, bowing low as you sat on the throne, looking down on them.
You glanced to Sukuna who gave you a firm nod, a slight grin on his face as he took it all in.
Power looked good on you.
“Rise,” you finally spoke, your voice calm and smooth, not betraying the pressing feeling of all their stares. “I’m sure you know I am from Heian-kyō, which was recently unified into the empire. There will be a slight change.”
You pause, letting the suspense hang over then men.
“We will be moving the current capital to Heian-kyō.”
For the second time, the room erupted in outrage, men on their feet, shouting accusations and mentions of witchcraft, of love spells and seduction.
Sukuna’s eyes narrowed, his grip on your shoulder tightening as his free hand lingered on the hilt of his sword threateningly.
The crowd quieted at his silent warning.
“Anyone who speaks to my wife like that again will be removed,” he said calmly, “I do not care what your position is, you are replaceable.”
“But Your Imperial Majesty, I don’t thin-” one advisor started.
Sukuna’s glare cut to him, “Your Imperial Majesties,” he corrected, “And now, we will listen and let my wife, the empress, finish her sentence.”
You cleared your throat, leaning back in the throne, “Like I said, we will be moving the current capital to Heian-kyō. You are not required to move, and hopefully, you won’t. But, for important meetings, you will travel there or we will travel here.”
The advisors are visibly fuming but stay quiet, glaring at you with a plotting look in their eyes, glancing from you to Sukuna.
Perhaps you could turn them against Sukuna, but then nothing would be stopping them from turning onto you too. You’d have to wait this one out, maybe you could hope that they’d look at you wrong and give you a good reason to have them removed.
Maybe, once you wormed your way into the Emperor’s heart, you could make your move.
And bring his empire down for good.
Sukuna was by no means a benevolent ruler, nobles and servants alike cowering aback whenever he entered a room. Even his most feared generals stayed out of his way.
You were now in the war room, listening to various generals and commanders give their reports on the empire and its expansion. You were surprised he even let you in here, but it was clearly a power move, something to show you that you weren’t considered as much of a threat.
But you listened intently, keeping detail of the important statistics. Numbers, locations, supplies, plans, you kept it all in your head and every night, you’d write them all down in the margins of a romance book you found in your personal library. The book was tucked behind several others, its front page with hearts and flowers and a couple on it.
Sukuna didn’t seem like the type to read romance anyway.
And speaking about Sukuna, he was surprisingly not a bad husband. He let you pick your clothes and outfits and you had free roam around the castle, only having to be back in your room by midnight.
He did make sure to take any weapons you had before falling asleep. You weren’t sure how he managed it, but he’d always find a way to get your sword before you could hide it for later use. Sometimes he’d lean in, whispering sweet words while his hands unlatched the holster, setting it on the table as he left a lingering kiss on your neck on cheek. Later on, a servant, usually Uraume, would come over and take it while you were changing in the closet.
Sukuna was casually affectionate, a simple brush of hands or shoulders during the day or he’d gently straighten your crown before you went out, his hand would stay on your shoulder during audiences, grounding you with his presence.
During balls, he’d always ask you for a dance as if you weren’t already married, spinning you around and guiding you around scheming nobles, trying to find a way to undermine you, steering you away from grabbing hands and feet.
He’d feed you as you ate outside or you’d find new books in your library when he heard you talking about a genre or author.
But he never kissed you on the mouth.
On the cheek, on the neck, on the forehead, on your hand, yes, but he never even grazed your lips.
You couldn’t explain what bothered you about it, but you got this odd feeling in your stomach every time he avoided it. Was he seeing someone else? Did he think you were that repulsive?
He couldn’t have been seeing someone else, right? You would know, most of your day was spent by his side, eating, going to meetings, or taking walks in the huge gardens. He treated you more and more like his wife and less like a prisoner.
You still sat on the big throne in the meeting hall and gazed down at the sneering nobles, Sukuna standing over your shoulder, his hand resting next to you.
“Remember, you are up here, and they are down there,” he would whisper, leaning close to your ear.
You resisted the urge to shiver, you couldn’t allow your facade to break, you couldn’t give in to his influence.
So far, you’d received no word or clue about any rebel groups, you were hoping to hear of some so you could give them your notes. It appeared your kingdom had been appeased with the news of your newfound power and marriage. They were content to live out their lives under the empire as long as you ruled.
Still, you continued to spy on the advisor and war meetings, sitting there quietly and absorbing the information. The men don’t even give you snide glances or make comments about your presence anymore, having gotten used to you.
You had gotten used to your routine as well, slowly waking up closer and closer to Sukuna everyday, the space in between your bodies shrinking. Then, you’d choose what you wanted to wear and you’d be dressed, all while your husband watched you leisurely from the bed. He’d take you around the palace, arm intertwined with yours and escorting you from meeting to meeting, sitting you down from throne to throne.
Every week you’d get dressed up in jewels and layers and gems, all matching his, to flaunt around at a ball, twirling through flames of silk and tulle and velvet.
You were getting used to the weight of the clothes and jewelry and the crown, as well as your husband, almost getting affectionate.
Nights were spent just like this one, sitting out on the balcony and staring down at the gardens and further on, the flames and firelight of the city.
“I must say, I wasn’t expecting this arrangement to be so… beneficial,” Sukuna drawls, glancing at you under the stars.
You remain looking at the stars, glancing at him teasingly, “You really did not give me much of a choice.”
A sly grin breaks apart the harsh contours of his face. “True, but I didn’t think you’d listen otherwise.”
He’s right. You wouldn’t have.
“I never did thank you for getting rid of my husband,” you say.
Sukuna scoffs, “He was going to die either way. He was a shitty husband and an even terrible ruler.”
That gets a laugh out of you, oblivious to how Sukuna’s eyes soften as he glances at you. It was the best decision he ever made to rid you of your husband. No one should be trapped in a cage they did not put themselves in.
Sukuna liked how you were warming up to him, acting as if every fleeting glance, every touch didn’t kill him inside to reach back. Oh how he just wanted to pull you into his lap right now. There was no need for formalities in the comfort of his own room.
But, he’d wait for you to make the move, he couldn’t imagine undoing all the progress so far just because he couldn’t control himself.
So he waited alongside you. He woke up and went to sleep in your bed, oblivious or uncaring to your inner confusion. Every night and every morning there were fresh pink orchids to go with whatever outfit you wore.
The moment you woke up you knew something was wrong.
Sukuna was not beside you, there were no maids, no servants waiting on you. No one had woken you up early to dress you as usual.
As you stood, you glanced around, searching through your bedroom, the closet, the bathroom, the library.
No one.
Quickly, you pulled on a simple dress and shoes and marched to the door, planning to search the palace for your husband.
The door wouldn’t budge.
You tried again and again but it wouldn’t move, the wood clanking as something prevented it from opening. Panicked, you tried every other door you could find.
You were trapped.
Pacing, you tried to hear anything from the hall or outside but it was dead silent. No guards, no footsteps, no voices, just a blank silence that came from stillness.
You started tearing up the room to try to find something to get out with, you couldn’t be trapped inside. Was this whole marriage just because he got bored? Were you not entertaining enough?
As you scanned the place, the doors opened, Sukuna and several of his commanders and guards stepped in alongside him, blocking off the door. Their faces were cold and emotionless, staring at you like you were the enemy.
“What is going on, Sukuna?” You demanded, glancing around.
“Sit,” he commanded, his tone giving no room for argument.
That made your blood run cold. He had never used that tone with you, even when you met him on the battlefield months ago, he had never talked to you like that.
Gingerly, you sat on one of the chairs, eyes narrowed as you studied him and his blank expression.
“What is the meaning of this?” You ask again.
“You tell me,” he snaps back, tossing a book on the table in front of you.
The cover of the romance book stared up at you, no doubt filled with the numbers and locations of his armies from the past meetings you’d been in.
You’d forgotten you still had it, so wrapped up and comfortable in your new life that you forgot the main reason for coming here. Yet, the evidence glared up at you harshly from where it sat on the table.
Steeling yourself, you slid it back to him, “I think you already know.”
Sukuna was two seconds away from exploding, his eyes glaring into you fiercely as he leaned towards you, “Was this your whole plan, witch?”
You had nothing to say. No excuses would be able to erase the hard proof they had. You could tell him that you loved him, that you had changed, but nothing would be able to smooth over the situation.
He scoffs, turning away and letting the guards take your arms and pull you out of the room. You didn’t protest, only looking down in shame as they dragged you down, floor by floor until the light filtered away and the smell of dampness clung to the old stone.
You were placed in the furthest cell from the surface, only containing a bed of moldy straw and a deep hole that previous prisoners had used to relieve themselves.
Horror stories of the empire’s interrogations and dungeons had reached every corner of all kingdoms. If torture didn’t kill them, then the coldness of the cell and the rats and diseases in the straw would kill them.
For hours you sat there, the floor soaked and a leak steadily dripping from the ceiling. Your beautiful skirts slowly getting wet and stained from the dirty water. There was nothing else to do except sit with your thoughts and your guilt while you waited for any sign of human life.
Above ground, Sukuna sat on his throne, the stone unusually cold without your presence as he listened to advisors all clamoring and shouting for your execution. Yet his mind kept circling back to the book, all the dates and numbers and stats of his men.
He tried to go back in his memory, running over every interaction with you and trying to see if there were any holes or any suspicions that you could’ve been plotting against him. He didn’t want to believe it but the evidence was right there. Your handwriting, your book, it was indisputable.
Thinking back, you never seemed like you would betray him, sometimes quiet, but it never felt like you were scheming behind his back. Besides, who could you be selling him out to? He was always by your side, always.
Days passed and Sukuna grew sharper without you, frequently lashing out at servants or advisors even more than he did before you. He couldn’t bear to think that you were down there in the cold dungeons, freezing and soaked as you awaited your sentence.
Were you crying? Were you starving? Were you anxious? Or had you already accepted whatever fate befell on you?
Now, he’d never admit it, but the truth was he missed you constantly. He ate alone, he slept alone, he walked alone, there was a lingering shadow where you used to be. Was he destined to always be so close to happiness, only for it to be taken from him just as quick?
That’s when he realized, missing you hurt worse than your betrayal.
Whatever your sick plan was, he’d rather you be by his side and plotting his demise than trapped and locked away from him. Sukuna would rather be overthrown by your own hand than be forced to follow through with your execution.
“Silence,” he commanded, the room of advisors falling silent. They’d never been one to try to test Sukuna’s temper, but now it was even worse, like walking on cracking ice.
“Bring her to me,” he continued, ignoring the glances from the audience.
He was the emperor, and no emperor was complete without his empress.
You were stirred awake when two guards came into your cell, hoisting you up by the armpits and carrying you back up the many flights of stairs. You recognized the path, it was one you’d taken many times, only with your husband guiding you and not being dragged in chains.
The metal clinked along the stone floor as they dragged you in front of the throne, dropping you on your knees in front of Sukuna.
You couldn’t look up at him, keeping your head bowed, partly ashamed at your appearance and guilty of your actions. The once beautiful dress was torn and wrinkled, the rich fabric stained and sagging. Your hair was down, uneven and matted, tangled with the beads of jewels around you.
To put it simply, you looked like a beggar.
“Leave us,” the Emperor said firmly.
Amid the shuffling and scuffing of feet as they left, you realized how much you missed your husband's voice. It was much better than the scurrying of rats or the drip of leaks.
As the door shut, you kept your head down, even as the Emperor descended from the dais, coming to a stop in front of you.
Sukuna sighs, crouching in front of you and tilting your chin up, “I told you never to bow, especially to me.” His voice was soft, almost tender, his finger smoothing the confused crease in your brows.
Your eyes dart around, noticing the empty room but staying quiet. You didn’t deserve to look him in the eye. Not when you had been ready to betray him, to throw all of his leniency and kindness in his face while watching him fall.
No, you were not worthy.
Could this be a trap? Could this be to give you the illusion of comfort and domesticity to trick you out?
“My empress, it would do you good to know that… that I grew to long for your presence. I could not imagine your punishment, much less your death. I would rather you bring me down then have such a brilliant soul waste away underground,” he murmurs, bringing you closer.
Gently, he unlocks your chains, rubbing his hands over the irritated red marks they left. Sukuna kisses your brow, smoothing back your hair. He doesn’t mind if you keep quiet, maybe he’d fill up the silence for once.
“Come, I will draw you a bath,” he says, pulling you to your feet and wrapping an arm around you.
He leads you through a set of halls you’d never been in, blissfully empty, no maids or servants or advisors milling about like usual, just dead silence.
Thankfully, Sukuna was warm and dry, contrasting to your cold and wet clothes clinging loosely to your form as you huddled near him. The whole while there, he spoke quietly, his soothing tone wrapping around you like warm honey, filling up the space with simple talk about the gardens or how the palace was built or telling you myths about the statues that lined the way.
He walked you through a door which opened up to the familiar sight of your room, only items were scattered, clothes tossed around and vases upturned. Silently, he led you through the mess, making sure your feet wouldn’t catch on the clutter as he entered the bathroom.
As he sat you on the sink, he smoothed your hair back, dirt and grime smearing on his hands alongside his tattoos. It was as if you were marring him somehow, like disfiguring a god.
Sukuna caught your glance and sighed, standing up and beginning to draw water for your bath. You sat there, watching him work with preparing the scents and soaps that your maids always had used.
Then, he walked back over and took you up in his arms, walking towards the water. He let you sit down on the edge while he stood behind you, undoing your dress and many layers, now dirty and unwashable.
HIs hands traced down your bare skin carefully, calloused and rough but as light as a feather. Before this, he had never seen you completely nude, perhaps in a nightgown or a shift but never fully bare in all your months of marriage.
And still, he was careful, respectful, mindful to not let his hands linger too long on certain places as he undressed you.
Once you were bare, he gestured silently for you to get in fully, his hands resting on your shoulders as he sat behind you.
His hands ran through your hair, soaking the tangled mess and letting the water loosen some of the worse tangles. Long, strong fingers rubbed the sweet smelling shampoo into your scalp and washed away the dirt. Even though his fingers weren’t as soft as your maids, they were twice as gentle, tenderly rubbing away as you closed your eyes.
Once he finished washing your hair, you opened your eyes, twisting around slightly in the water to look at him.
“Come in,” you asked, your voice slightly hoarse. “Please.”
Sukuna visibly hesitates but stands up, loosening the layers and layers of formal attire. His eyes stay on you the whole time as inch by inch his body is revealed.
Expanses of toned, trained muscle show as he shrugs off his shirt, faint white scars tracing maps along his rough skin. He’s more beautiful than you ever could have imagined, each tattoo and scar swirling around the other like flames as his muscles ripple, lowering himself next to you.
His hands gently wrap around your waist, guiding you to his lap and settling you upon the broad muscle of his thigh. As one arm holds you in place, his free hand starts to lather your body with soap, scrubbing away the layer of grossness and grime that penetrated deeper than the visible eye.
Ever so slowly, your tense body relaxed against his, letting him wash you tenderly.
His chin rested on your shoulder, lips next to your ear, “I should’ve known you’d try to fight. I took you away from your world, your kingdom, everything you’d ever known to tie you to me. And for that I am sorry.”
He was sorry?
Were you truly dying? Hearing the great Sukuna Ryomen apologize wasn’t something you’d ever thought you’d hear. Well, then again, you didn’t expect to be married to him.
Through the hour or so you were in the bath, you must’ve nodded off against his chest, lulled to sleep by his soothing words and comforting touches.
You woke in your bed, clothed in one of your regular nightgowns and securely held to Sukuna’s chest, one of his arms bracketing your waist. The rising sunlight streaming in from the loose curtains, wind billowing them around in the quiet.
“Are you awake?” A low, rumbling voice sounded from behind you, Sukuna’s chin resting on the top of your head.
Wordlessly, you nodded and turned around, curling into him and letting the warmth of his body embrace yours under the richly embroidered covers.
He adjusted slightly to make you more comfortable, lacing his fingers through yours and sliding your wedding ring back on your finger from where you had taken it off that morning where you were found guilty of treason.
As you look up at him, his tattoos on his face flicker as he nods, “You are my wife as well as empress. You do not belong without a ring.”
His voice was gruff and his words were short yet the simplicity was needed in the moment, letting you regain some of your confidence and push your guilt aside.
Teasingly, you took your fingers from his and rolled over on top of him, straddling his bare chest. Grinning, you traced your hands down the dark shadows and rolls of muscles, “Well, according to the laws of your empire, we are not married, and such a position is quite scandalous for anyone, including us.”
His jaw clenches and his eyes narrow, trying to figure out where you're going with this but his hand curls around your waist, the other digging slightly into the flesh of your thigh, spreading them slightly.
“I wasn’t aware you were one for such technicalities or traditions,” he grits out, eyes flickering down to where your nightgown dipped ever so slightly revealing your collarbone.
“A man’s duty to his wife is to please her, correct?” You teased, cocking your head and leaning over him.
“Then what would my wife want?” Sukuna all but growls, hands flexing from where they had slid up under your nightgown, resting on your hips.
You pretended to think about it, leaning back just enough to rub over the growing hardness between his thighs, ignoring his slight hiss.
As you opened your mouth to respond, he snarled and yanked you down, crushing your lips to his and holding you in place. When your hands sank into his hair, he pulled you impossibly tighter, opening his mouth and pushing his tongue into yours.
You froze momentarily. He had never kissed you on the lips, and certainly not like this. It was rough, almost primal, but then again, so was he.
Before he could pull away, you kissed him back, hands curling into his hair as your hips lifted in a slow drag over his crotch, bringing a sound from his lips that were still crushed against yours.
His hands tightened on your hips, trailing up your sides, pushing your nightgown up with them.
Breaking the kiss momentarily, you slid your arms up and pulled the nightgown off, the only clothes still on being the underwear he put on you as you had fallen asleep. His scarred hands trace delicately on your body, the rough texture clashing with your soft skin, fresh from your bath the previous night.
Sukuna leans up, littering kisses on your collarbone and neck, his lips soft compared to the rough kiss earlier, his tongue tracing the skin. Your hands grip his bare shoulders, nails digging into the muscle as you tilt your head back before being gently pulled back down so he could slot his lips against yours.
Your hips stuttered causing him to let out an unpleasant hiss from the loss of contact. His arm wrapped around your waist and softly pushed you off him, rolling over so he was on top, his lips still onto yours.
As he broke away, he had a reverent look in his eyes, his hand brushing your face and traveling down along with his mouth, trailing along your skin and nipping at your breasts, mouth enclosing around one while his hand played with the other, tongue traveling downwards to trace the juncture where your thigh meets your body.
Sukuna glanced up, head tilted slightly, eyes questioning, his fingers resting on the lip of your underwear. Barely, you nod and that seems enough for him to nearly rip your underwear in half trying to pull it down.
Before you could huff a laugh at his antics, his mouth dove in between your legs, tongue burying between your folds licking a stripe between your legs, ruby eyes meeting yours as he sucked roughly on your clit, sliding two fingers into your cunt. As he scissored his fingers, he watched as you arched, pushing and grinding your hips into his face. Sukuna hummed in satisfaction, nipping at the skin on your thigh and sliding his elbows up farther to push your legs apart more, his free hand pressing down on your stomach as his fingers slid in and out of you. Mouth opened in a gasp as he took them out only to push them in as deep as he could, moving them back and forth inside you, drawing lewd sounds from your cunt.
Moaning, you lean up to look at him with rolled eyes, mouth in a perfect “o” all to find him grinning, the bottom half of his face wet with your slick. You tilt your head to look at him as he glides up above you, his tongue tracing your body as his fingers remain inside of you, the hand that was pressing on your stomach was by your head, allowing him balance to slip his tongue into your open mouth. His lips curved into a smirk as he felt the moans against his lips and you clench around his fingers.
“You don’t need to be quiet, my orchid, no one's gonna say anything,” he croons against your lips, tongue tracing your open mouth as his fingers tore you inside out.
Softly, he nips along your neck as you get closer to the crest of your orgasm, him feeling it around his fingers and from the obscene sounds coming from your mouth and cunt.
Then, he bites down hard on your neck, fingers stilling inside you as you cum hard, nails digging into his scalp as you ride out your orgasm on his hand, muscles tensing. Slowly, Sukuna’s mouth became softer, leaving light traces of kisses as you came down, breathing hard.
Almost tender, he slid his fingers out of you with an obscene sound, the brief softness vanishing as he smacked your pussy with the flat of his hand, smearing the juices on your folds and on his hand.
“You gonna be good for me, hm? You gonna let me have you right?” He croons, lips tracing your cheek as you yelp as he presses his covered cock against you, your wetness soaking the fabric.
You nod, dazed as you watch him remove his pants, the tattoos trailing down from his chest down to his thighs, framing the shadow of his hard cock, the veins visible and thick, tip flushed almost as red as his eyes.
Gently, he leaned over you, letting his tip brush against the wetness as he layers kisses among nips and bites along your face before returning to your lips, pressing his against yours hard as he pushes inside. And god was he big, a hiss left your mouths at the sharp pain at the stretch, nails digging into his back.
Sukuna let out a sound akin to a moan as he sunk into you, feeling your walls clench around him, he didn’t want to leave ever. Slowly, he pulled his hips out before slamming back in, pressing your knees towards your face.
He growled, backing up so he was standing, pulling you by your legs to the edge and shoving himself back into you, folding your knees to your chest as he fucked you hard. Lewd sounds filled the room from both of your mouths as well as the wet sounds as you gripped hard around him, splitting you in half.
Out of nowhere, he stilled, as far in as he could get, yet he wriggled his hips, trying to get even deeper, brushing against some untouched hidden spot that had your hips jerking as you moaned.
Suddenly, he pulled out, leaving you gasping at the sudden emptiness but when you caught a glance at his cock, your mouth dropped. It was absolutely soaked and shiny from being inside you, flushed and veiny, you could see it twitching.
His hands returned to your hips, flipping you over onto your stomach and ramming back in, this time much easier, a loud smack sounding as his hips collided with your ass, your insides squelching.
He let out a low groan in your ear, standing up and sliding a hand along your scalp, gently pulling you back into a mean arch as he used you, his other hand sliding down and drawing circles around your soaked and swollen clit, giving it a light smack before pressing down on the skin of your lower stomach, moaning as you tightened around him, sucking him in so he couldn’t get out if he tried.
The slap of skin echoed throughout the room as he fucked you with a punishing pace, ramming into you like a toy.
Panting, you gasped as he let go of your hair, letting your head drop before his hand slid around your neck, applying light pressure as the hand that was pressing down hit you on your ass hard.
“Yeah? You wanna be good for me and take it, hm?” Sukuna panted, smacking you again. He leaned down close to your head, listening to your moans and cries, slightly quieter due to his hand on your throat, tightening.
“Mhmm,” you gasped, nodding quickly, head falling forward as he let go, continuing to fuck you into the mattress and pressing your head into it, groaning as he felt your pussy squeeze around him, squelching as you gripped him around every vain.
You were practically drooling as you let him fuck you senseless, crying out for him and every deity that might forgive you for the nasty act you were doing. Still, you never wanted to leave this moment, clamping down around him and milking him for all its worth as you grew in sensitivity.
He stilled, wrapping his hands around your hips and pulling you back so you got yourself off on him, so he could see you taking every inch and the slick coating him as his hands squeezed you, trailing down to cup your ass.
You rose yourself up onto your forearms, collapsing as he sheathed himself completely in you at once, leaving you gasping as he started up quickly again, your orgasm cresting again.
Almost tenderly, he pulled out of you, watching you as your legs twitched and your hole clenched around nothing before laying on his back next to you and pulling you on top, hoisting you up and feeling around before settling his dick back inside you, this time with you on top.
You tilted your head, still dazed as you leaked around his cock, feeling stuffed. Hesitantly rising up, you tossed your head back in a rough whine as you slid each inch inside, sensitive clit rubbing on the soft hair above.
Before you could move up again, Sukuna stopped you, his eyes focused on your lower stomach where he could see the slight imprint of himself as you moved, twitching inside your warmth. That image only got him more turned on.
Was he the only one to do this? Was he the only one to get you so lost in your own pleasure?
Well if he was, and he better be, then he was making sure it was gonna be the best you were gonna get.
He thrust up quickly, splitting you in half with his cock as he watched your breasts bounce with the motion, his hand enclosing around one and tracing his finger around the nipple while his mouth wrapped around the other one, sucking and twirling it around in his mouth.
“You need help, pretty girl?” He murmured in your ear, watching as your thighs shake from the constant motion and having to make room for his broad hips.
Firmly, you shake your head no and push him back down, hands on his chest as your hips rise all the way so barely his tips inside you before coming down. Your hips moved tantalizingly in circles, teasing him just enough to let a whine slip from his lips, abs flexing as your fingers ran over them.
Grinning, you quickened your pace, giving him some relief to the needy sensation he was craving. He twitched inside you as his hand pressed against your lower stomach, heightening the feeling for both of you, drawing circles on your clit simultaneously.
As you moaned, he sped up his fingers, eyes transfixed on your face as it scrunched up in pleasure, ignoring his release to keep fucking up into your sweet pussy, wanting your release dripping around him.
Your nails dug into his skin as you clenched around him, eyes rolling back as you orgasmed, him following right behind you and pumping load after load into you, filling you up with his warmth. Some escaped around where his cock entered you, leaking out of you.
Gently, he pulls you so you’re laying on his chest, him still inside of you, still twitching. He kisses the top of your head, tracing along your back.
“We’ll clean it up later, my wife. We have plenty of time,” Sukuna says softly.
However, you didn’t get the chance to sleep before he pulls you back up, an evil glint in his eyes as he looks at your fucked out face.
“The empire needs an heir, my love. After all, our duty is to the people.”
You could already feel him hardening inside you, gently kissing your temple and pressing in, tucking a pink orchid behind your ear.
Satoru, Suguru, Shoko, and you lay sprawled under a tree, fanning yourselves as the heat seeped into your bones. Satoru had an arm thrown lazily around your shoulders as he clung onto you despite the heat, white hair covering your eyes as he laid his head on top of yours.
"You're suffocating the poor girl," Shoko said dryly, tossing a twig over at you two, hitting Satoru's glasses.
The boy just let out a grumble and tightened his grip on you, knowing better from the previous escape attempts you tried.
"She's right y'know," Suguru drawled, not even cracking an eye open as he laid facedown, his long hair tied up.
Satoru groaned, removing his arm from your shoulders and sinking down to lay his head in your lap, "You two are just being dramatic. She doesn't mind, right?" He asked, covering your mouth with his hand before you could respond, muffling your protests.
Shoko lunged at him, ripping his hand off your mouth, getting pushed off by Satoru as he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer.
"You're like a cat," you teased, reluctantly giving in and running your hand through his hair.
He grinned, his glasses sliding off his nose as he closed his eyes, letting out something akin to a purr as he snuggled deeper into your lap, his hands remaining barred around you, refusing to let you get away.
But now, in the winter of 2018, Satoru's arms no longer held you.
No, they lay still at his sides as his eyes stared up at the sky, those crystal blue eyes gray and lifeless as his head rested in your lap.
Smoke and ash floated around you, settling and tainting Satoru's snow white hair. The same hair that you used to run your fingers through was now stained with blood and ash and your tears.
You could still sense Sukuna's presence near you, yet you could not bring yourself to care.
Everything important in your life had been shattered to pieces right in front of your eyes.
Sure, Shoko was still alive, but you didn't know if you could go through helping another grieve.
When Suguru died, you tried your best to help Satoru through the process while also learning how to deal with your own grief, but then you still had Satoru.
You still had the man that knew everything about you, what could make you laugh, when you needed space, and how to make the world seem a lot less daunting.
But after you had to watch the light go out of his eyes, the last emotion you saw on his face, fear.
The strongest one had felt fear.
But not for himself, but for seeing you amidst the carnage and wreckage around him.
You both knew that he could never hurt Megumi, even as Sukuna, yet, if he knew you were there, could that have changed?
However, you would never know, never want to know.
So, you bowed your head, forehead pressing against your dead lover's, closing your eyes and wrapping your arms around the top half of his body as the second slice came down.
At least he would rest with your arms around him.
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A/N: been feeling angsty so i wrote this while listening to crack baby by mitski instead of doing a shit ton of hw due tmrw + after a way too long basketball game love yall babes
Madness was a term defined as repeating a failed action and expecting a different result.
Perhaps you were going mad then.
The logical side of your mind knew that Suguru Geto would never stay, that he'd never lay next to your body with any feeling attached, he'd never spend a second longer on you than was necessary to keep you close and your legs open for him.
But still, you hoped that one day he'd just give in and maybe hold you for just a second longer than normal, that you'd look into his eyes and see any emotion other than lust.
He'd never call, barely texting other than a simple R u home, yet you continued to blow up his phone relentlessly.
Sometimes you'd be angry, rightfully so, for him having the audacity to ignore you then just walk back in to fuck you. Other times you'd ignore him back, refusing to let him walk all over you just to end up crawling back when he didn't beg you to come back.
But no, nothing changed.
He'd just walk into your life whenever he wanted, whenever it was convenient for him. He'd walk into your house like he owned it and find you wherever you were, pulling your underwear to the side with no greeting.
And maybe he did own you.
That sick twisted thought was burrowed in the back of your mind. Maybe you meant something to him? Maybe if you stayed loyal he'd pay you more than a crumb of attention?
Maybe it was all a test for your loyalty?
Like normal, those thoughts circulated your mind all day through work, driving, and when he fucked you late at night, the sensation less pleasurable and less consuming but more of a reminder of the lack of intimacy, of familiarity that was shared between the two of you.
After all, you were practically a toy whose only purpose was to bring temporary joy for the user.
Some nights were different.
Some nights he was rough, pushing you down to your knees without a care or shoving you facedown into a pillow. Other nights he was almost... tender? no, such a word was not accurate for someone like Suguru Geto. Maybe he was less harsh but it was never soft, never tender, never caring.
Still, he had you on an invisible leash, always on his beck and call to please him like a servant to a master.
You knew he had a dangerous job, one he chose, straying from his comfortable past. But neither of you talked about it, never anything personal.
Scars, scratches, and bruises were normal. You knew not to ask questions about his work or any injuries you saw.
Which is why he started appearing with stitches on his forehead, you didn't ask, only letting him manhandle you into positions like always.
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A/N: IM BACK MY DARLINGSSSSS, so sorry i was gone a lot has happened with school and i got a bf and i lowkey spilled all of this to him bc i didn't want to keep writing abt fictional men while having an amazing bf who actually treats me well which is so rare in real life but he was chill. he said that i had to have something weird since i was dating him but IM BACKKKKKKK and ill def work on those medieval fics but i want to get a couple short ones out before
Satoru Gojo may be the strongest, but his heart, was the weakest.
He knows that he isn't perfect, no matter how hard it was to accept, but still, he tries, y'know, just in his own way.
Which was why it didn't feel real when you walked out that door.
Ever since then, he feels like he's floating aimlessly with no anchor, no one to hold him down, to make him feel human, to make him seen.
But still, he watches.
He knows it isn't his business, not his place to look after you like you're still his, but still, he watches you from afar, watching you slowly start to smile more, start to laugh more, to open up.
To people who aren't him.
He knew he was wrong.
He knew that he was too loud, too fake, that it felt impossible to get him to open up. But he hoped that maybe, just maybe, you would've stayed, just long enough that he could break down.
Satoru Gojo always held you at arms length, close enough to love you about, but not close enough to let it show.
His world was just to cruel, to harsh. There were so many possibilities where you could be taken away or just been disgusted by the real him.
So he kept his distance, emotionally. To outsiders it didn't seem like it, but your relationship felt hollow, you were giving everything and receiving nothing.
You gave him your time, your effort, your love and all you got were physical affection, some gifts, but none of it held any true meaning behind it, nothing that would provoke any emotion.
For a while, you just told yourself that he was just new to relationships, just wanting to get to know you a little more. But as the months passed and nothing changed, it felt like he was distancing himself even further.
It didn't feel like he was yours no matter how many times he promised, how many times he held you, it felt fake, all superficial.
Now, as he sits at crowded bars, surrounded by tons of people who aren't you, he drowns his thoughts in expensive drinks, ignoring the women all around him.
But no amount of alcohol can ever full silence a man's regret.
Did he drive you away?
Or was he even there to begin with?
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A/N: IM BACK BABYYY (Sukuna fic will be out soon, but i just needed to write something small + short) inspired by Sparks by Coldplay obviously
Slight teaser for my future medieval AU !Emperor Sukuna x !Queen Reader fic:
To the free queen,
I give my condolences for your late husband, the king. However, I assume you have found your current situation quite pleasing, the unrivaled power, the complete jurisdiction. Now, just know that the satisfaction and power you feel right now can be taken away in an instant. I withdrew my troops in well wishings of your new rule. Nobles and advisors left and right will take any chance to stab you in the back, like your so unfortunate husband.
I advise you to meet with me at noon tomorrow and the eastern border to perhaps negotiate and discuss terms about your new power and discuss the future conquest of your kingdom. You will not be able to prevent it, so do not try. But perhaps we can come to a few terms we can agree to, I imagine your future fate will be a lot kinder.
Besides, I wouldn’t want to have to take your new freedom away.
His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Sukuna
His stupid signature glared at you from the bottom of the page. The thick, red, swirls that cursed out his name took up the whole bottom half of the parchment. That pompous bastard, thinking could just march in and threaten your people like he had any right to speak, much less insult you. But, you would have to go to the so-called “negotiation” if you had any hopes in preventing the destruction of your people.
You paused as you reread it, seeing the date in the corner.
Warnings: slight gore, Heian era Sukuna, mentions of violence, slight mention of child abuse (not of reader)
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Sukuna was everything but gentle. He was all rough and sharp edges, lashing out at anyone and anything that even slightly irritated him.
So, why were you perched on the armrest of his throne so casually?
To be honest, you didn't really know yourself.
But he clearly had a soft spot for you.
He'd let you roam around his palace and gardens, take books from his many libraries and pursue whatever interest you found that week. He had no objections to the small moments of domestic life you gave him, brushing his hair, picking out his clothes, and waking up in the mornings in the same bed.
It wasn't unusual to you.
Neither was intruding in on his meetings or audiences when you were bored.
Which is what you were doing now.
Entering the throne room, you ignored the long line of curses waiting to give their offerings and pleas to the King of Curses. No guards stopped you as you passed the line and marched right up the dais and perched on the armrest of the throne.
"And what do you think you're doing?" He drawled, turning to look at you, an expression of mild irritation on his face.
Yet, despite his annoyance, he made no move to dislodge you. In fact, the way he leaned back ever so slightly, propping his arm next to you.
"Just taking my place," you said innocently, grinning at him.
He rolls his eyes, letting out a huff as his fingers drummed on your knee, "You could've waited in line like everyone else."
You grimace, brows furrowing, "I am not a curse."
"Correct, but that doesn't give you the right to skip the line."
Sukuna's reply was as blunt as ever, his hand now coming to rest on your waist, fingers lightly tracing circles on your skin. His gaze held a mixture of annoyance and affection.
Rolling your eyes, you lean back, crossing your arms and making no move to get away from him, "You'd miss me too much if I waited in line all day."
A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as you leaned back, allowing yourself to be pulled closer. He didn't comment on your choice of words, instead continuing to absently trace circles on your waist.
"Your presence is always irritating," he grumbled, though there was no real bite. The way he kept you close spoke louder than any words.
"You find everything irritating."
His fingers moved from your waist to your arm, tracing the outline of your muscles through your clothing. The touch was almost affectionate, a contradiction to his harsh words.
"But you're the most irritating," he shot back.
Before you could argue back, the curse in the front of the line stepped forward, shifting on his feet nervously.
"What do you want?" Sukuna asked harshly, switching back to being the King of Curses. "Speak."
The curse bowed lowly, "I have brought offerings, my lord," it says in a quivering voice, setting gold, jewels, and silk at the foot of the dais.
With a slight move of Sukuna's hand, servants collect the offerings, putting them with the steadily growing pile of riches next to the throne. "You may go," he speaks firmly to the curse.
It lets out another quick bow and scampers off, the next coming up to present the offerings. It was boring, the continuous sucking up and kissing Sukuna's ass by his subjects.
Meanwhile, one of the King of Curses' arm was still wrapped around your waist loosely, the lower left arm resting on your leg, fingers stroking your skin through your clothes tenderly.
Half an hour later, riches filled half of the throne room, the smell of rich spices and metal thick in the air.
Then, another curse stepped forward that had you tensing.
This one had a human baby in its clutches, a knife in its other hand. It leered at you, a look of disgust on its ugly face. The curse holding the baby and knife in its grasp chuckled, its eyes fixated on you. It held the baby close, its grip firm on the small bundle in its arms.
"I have a special offering, o King of Curses. A human sacrifice," it sneered, its eyes narrowing in malicious delight.
"A human sacrifice, you say?" Sukuna echoed, his voice low and dangerous.
Human sacrifices weren't uncommon, but not a curse had dared to sacrifice one when you were present, fearing Sukuna's wrath.
The curse's grin widened, its eyes fixed on you with an almost malicious glee. It held the baby closer to its chest, the knife dangerously close to the baby's sensitive skin..
"Yes, o King of Curses," it replied, its voice dripping with confidence. "A human sacrifice, just for you. A pure babe."
You knew this wasn't just a sacrifice. This was a direct insult towards you in effort to undermine your authority and challenge your humanity.
Sukuna's gaze flicked from the curse to you, his eyes narrowing as he caught your glare. He could feel the tension in your body, the anger radiating from you.
The curse, meanwhile, chuckled again, its grip on the baby remaining firm. It held the small bundle up, its eyes fixed on you.
"Isn't she a beautiful sacrifice, o King of Curses?" it asked, its voice laced with malice.
"Set it down," Sukuna said firmly, a direct command.
The curse blinked, surprised at the King's disagreement, "But my lord, it is th-"
"Put. It. Down. You will do as I command," he stated, his voice leaving no room for argument.
Hesitantly, the curse set the crying baby on the cold floor, eyes darting from Sukuna to his protective arm around you.
"You will leave now," he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. "You have offered your sacrifice, now you may go."
As the curse turns around, you rise, descending the dais and picking up the crying baby, turning back up the stairs.
What you don't see behind you, is the curse being cut into nearly a hundred invisible slices, being swept away with Sukuna's power before you could see.
As you settled on the armrest, Sukuna's hand moved back to your knee, his gaze settling on the crowd, "Do not think to undermine my wife again."
A wave of shock went through the crowd, his wife, since when?
You batted no eye, content with entertaining the baby in your arms.
"You know you don't have to do that, right?" he asked, his voice low and soft as he glanced at you rocking the baby.
"I am keeping it," you said firmly, settling the sleeping baby against your chest.
He blinks, surprised at your sudden decision before shrugging and pulling you into his lap.
!blacksmith's daughter reader x !assassin Toji ➺ (Coming Soon)
!advisor reader x !prince Suguru ➺ (Coming Soon)
!noble reader x !musician Choso ➺ (Coming Soon)
!queen reader x !emperor Sukuna ➺ (Pretty Orchid = Here!)
!servant reader x !advisor Nanami ➺ (Coming Soon)
A/N: This is gonna take a while (especially with school), but I'll try to get them as good and put together as possible. Love yall and let me know if you want to be tagged <3
General Taglist: @denlusionella @mxtcha-lvr @strawberryshortcakkitty @myrottingbrain @thefemmefatalexo @savtron @aurorab-0-realis @i0lovepink00
Content Warnings: toji breeding smut below cut, DOWN BAD toji, descriptive dialogue, pussydrunk man, tw pregnancy talk
A/N: fastest thing i've ever written omg it was so inspiring this might be it guys my magnum opus
FWAP FWAP FWOP GRR PLAP SMACK OH OH RIGHT THERE HUH BABY? YOU CLOSE? GONNA BReED YOU MAMA OH MM YEAH FEEL YOU FLUTTERING ROUND ME JUST LIEK THAT YEAH GOOD GIRL OH CUMMING CUMMING INSIDE
Hihi congrats on 200!! Recently came across your work and love your writing
Is it okay to get a vanilla, no glaze, confetti icing & choco sprinkle donut of Itadori Yuji or Fushiguro megumi - just something fluffy based off how they like to hug their partner or how they express affection
Thanks so much for your time
Soooooo... i did both bc i made you wait so long but at least it was abt my babiessss
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Yuji Itadori
Yuji had always been the touchy type to anyone and everyone, no matter if they were affectionate or not.
Once you started dating him, that only multiplied tenfold. Now, he had a girlfriend he could love on and pester 24/7. In public, he always had his hand intertwined with yours or a hand around your shoulders or arms linked with yours.
Sometimes when you left school, he would always carry your bags, slinging them over his shoulder and arm while his other hand was holding yours.
But in private, he would seek out your presence even more, practically laying on top of you with his face buried in the crook of your neck.
His favorite part of you was your waist, his arms would be wrapped around your midsection as nuzzled into your stomach.
Several times Nobara or Megumi would accidentally walk in your room, seeing Yuji clinging to you.
Yuji could not care less.
He was also your biggest supporter. Any moles, stretch marks, fat, scars, or acne you couldn't bear to look at in the mirror, he noticed, kissing or massaging, or subtly praising your looks.
He wasn't the biggest on reading, but he'd lay in your lap, letting you prop and book on his head as he slept.
His love language, besides physical touch, was watching movies together. He'd set up a pallet on the floor with pillows and blankets and snuggle with you as you ate snacks and watched whatever movie he insisted on watching.
He loved it when you did his makeup or skincare, sitting there with a grin and a headband pushing his pink hair back.
Under the table at meals if he wasn't sitting next to you, he'd tap your calf with his shoe until you put your feet on his lap.
Anytime you went out to eat, he'd let you steal off his plate as much as you wanted, eating your leftovers of the food you disliked.
He wasn't concerned with any onlookers or people judging you two, he was content to be close to you.
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Megumi Fushiguro
Megumi was quiet.
He didn't show emotions or talk much, but he showed his emotions in little ways.
Like the way he'd always share one of his corded headphones with you in the car. He'd have his pinkies intertwined with yours at meals. He'd let you lean on his shoulder when you were tired. He'd let you fix his hair, or do skincare, or dress him up.
He wasn't one for grand gestures, but he was always there, a solid, steady, comforting presence that you could fall back on.
Somehow, Megumi could always tell when you needed his help. He carried your stuff without asking, he massaged you when you were sore, he kissed you when you were too tired to ask.
And on those days when you felt too heavy to get out of bed, he was already there, holding you while his Demon Dogs curled up against you, nuzzling your hand.
Most of the time he waited on you to initiate contact, especially in public, but he always reciprocated it.
He'd never tell anyone, but he loved physical contact with you. He'd make excuses just to touch you. Accidentally brushing against you, steadying you, or insisting on holding your waist on the train.
One of his favorite things to do was your hair. If it was in the shower, he loved to shampoo or condition it, rubbing your scalp gently. Even after, he loved to brush it or dry it or add oils or serums or mousse to your hair.
And of course he always melted whenever you ran your hands through his hair or rubbed his back. There was something he just loved about being able to be coddled by you without asking. Sure, he'd protest weakly and act like he disliked it, but he adored being taken care of.
Sometimes he'd walk through the dorms in the middle of the night after a bad dream just to crawl into your awaiting arms, where he slept much more peacefully.
On missions, he always kept you in his peripheral, just to make sure there were no surprises.
He wasn't great at expressing his emotions, but he tried.
Mkay so Haibara died when he was still a first year right? So doesn't that mean Nanami was the only first year and he graduated as the only one in his class? Cause Shoko, Satoru, and Suguru were all in the grade above him, but he wasn't really close to them.
Like could you imagine how lonely that must've been? His only real friend died on a mission and he was left alone to aimlessly sort through his doubts about being a sorcerer and his morals.
Do we think that's why Gojo decided to have 3 first years? Because he could've just had Megumi and Nobara but he fought to make sure Yuji could get a spot because I think Yuji reminded Gojo of Haibara.
Because of course Yuji is like Gojo at least a little bit but for me Yuji reminds me of Haibara more because they both have that pure childish innocence and not the arrogance or pressure Gojo had at that age.
Also, I think Gojo watched Nanami withdraw from jujutsu society and didn't want that to happen to his students (cause he loves them). So he wanted there to be at least another person to help support them.
Because we saw Megumi and Nobara's reaction to Yuji's "death" as well as Yuji's reaction to Nobara nearly getting killed in front of him (he thought she was dead). So could you imagine what that would've been like if one of them actually died and there was only one other classmate?
