︾ ŕł mdni. waking up with yujiâs tongue between your legs
âshh, itâs just me, babyâŚâ
yujiâs voice is still raspy with sleep as he slips under the blanket. his warm hands slide under your hips, gently easing your legs apart. you stir softly but donât fully wake as he settles between your thighs, pushing them wider so his broad shoulders fit.
he leans in and drags his tongue slowly up your pussy. a low, pleased hum escapes him before he pushes his tongue inside, fucking you with lazy thrusts that get messier by the second, spit dripping down his chin and onto the sheets.
he pulls back for a breath, tongue gliding along your folds, then kisses your clit softly. for a moment he stares at your pussy in the faint light, dazed and hungry, before spitting on it and watching it drip down. then he dives right back in, lips wrapping around your clit. he sucks gently at first, then harder, getting greedier.
you finally wake up with a sleepy moan, your fingers reaching under the blanket to grip his hair. yuji doesnât pull away. he only squeezes your thighs a little and murmurs against your soaked pussy, âmorning, baby⌠sorry, you just looked so pretty lying there. couldnât help myself.â
he spits on your pussy again, then runs his fingers through the mess, spreading it everywhere. he teases your entrance for a moment before pushing two thick fingers deep inside you, sinking them all the way in until his knuckles are pressed flush against you. he curls them slowly, pushing against that sweet spot inside you while he watches, completely mesmerized by how much youâre dripping down his hand.
âlisten to how wet she isâŚfuck, i love this sound.â
you grip his hair tighter, thighs starting to shake around his head as you get more and more sensitive with every thrust.
âwaitâdonât come on my fingers, baby!â
he pulls his fingers out and immediately replaces them with his tongue, pushing it as deep as he can. his nose rubs against your clit as he buries his face even deeper, licking and humming happily while his strong hands hold your thighs open.
âyeah⌠thatâs it. i want you on my tongue. come in my mouth, baby⌠please.â
heâs licking and sucking even sloppier than before. when you finally come, yuji holds you down with both hands on your hips. he doesnât pull away even a littleâhe drinks you in greedily, swallowing every drop while moaning against your pulsing heat.
only when your trembling starts to fade does he loosen his grip. still, he keeps lazily licking up every last bit, humming and moaning against your sensitive skin. and then he presses one last soft kiss to your clit.
âŽâË. (ââĚŽâ) The strongest teaches you how to squirt . . .
You wanted to learn how to squirt.
Like, you really wanted to learn.
Being all over Twitter didn't help you either, as there's always somebody asking, oh, â how do you squirt?â Or, âguys, I just learned how to squirt for the first time and I've never felt so much better.â And you just can't help but get FOMO.
Okay yeah sure, every time Gojo fucks you really good, it feels amazing, but something's missing.
He's already done everything in the book with you, with a few concepts here and there untouched, but you always end up satisfied, so you never dwelled on it.
You just really, really wanted to try feeling something new.
You already tried to do it yourself countless times, but your fingers could never reach the spots that he does, especially since his are significantly longer than yours.
So when he's currently fucking you and training your pussy to be more sensitive, it seems you finally get the hang of it.
âMnghâ fuck toru thatâŚfeels sâgood..â
Gojo's long fingers curl deep inside your soaked pussy, his thumb pressing and pushing hard against your swollen clit with constant pressure.
He watched your face intently, bright blue eyes focusing on your pretty face as your walls flutter around his digits.
"Thaaat's it, baby," he murmurs, voice low and rough against your ear.
"You said you wanted to learn, yeah?"
His pace kept quickening as both fingers pumped into you steady, scissoring slightly on each thrust to stretch you open while his palm slaps wetly against your mound.
Your hips buck up off the bed, chasing the overwhelming sensation slowly building low in your belly.
Every stroke drags against that sensitive spot inside you, sending heatwaves through your body.
Gojo moves down, sucking one of your nipples right into his mouth. He bites down just hard enough to make you whine out, before soothing the sting with his tongue.
His free hand pins your thigh wider, keeping you spread for him as he works through your pussy harder.
Your breath comes out in short gasps when the pressure inside you grows almost unbearable, feeling like a tight coil getting tighter and tighter before releasing itself.
Your pussy clenches eagerly around his fingers as finally, a sudden rush of clear liquid sprays out all around them, soaking his hand and his wrist, along with the sheets beneath you in a hot, messy gush.
Gojo smiles and groans at the sight, fingering you through it with quick movements, so that the squirt keeps coming in short bursts.
"Fuuck, look at that," he growls, eyes locked on the way your cunt pulses and sprays. "So pretty when you let loose like that."
Your thighs tremble, clit becoming achingly sensitive.
You gripped the sheets and looked down at the mess, âhahâŚoh my godâŚwhat a mess..â
Another wave hits as he keeps rubbing your clit in tight circles, drawing out every last tremor and whine until you're left twitching, the new bedsheets already soiled under you.
He finally slows his hand down, but doesn't pull out, carefully stroking your inner walls as the aftershocks roll through you.
"Atta girl," he praises, voice coated with satisfaction.
âËŕż SYNOPSIS Getting your soul chained to the most insufferable man alive was definitely not on your itinerary. But when a heist goes sideways, an ancient relic traps you in a deadly leash with Satoru Gojo. He thinks it's a hilarious game, while you treat him like a headache. Yet, as the entire jujutsu world starts to exploit your shared radius, the fierce rivalry between you begins to blur. For the first time in his life, Gojo Satoru is about to learn exactly how agonizing it is to fall completely at the mercy of the only woman alive who can make him bleed.
âËŕż Gojo Satoru x f!reader
âËŕż cw: reader is a special grade sorcerer. no culling game. mdni. suggestive themes. violence. tags will be updated.
synopsis. having a boyfriend whose body dwarfs anything that stands in his way and carries an unusual amount of strength, it's either you're getting pulled into the warmest embrace, or getting your soul fucked out of you.
wc. 1,269 words 7,008 chars | genre. fluff, smut | cw/tags. intercourse, sexual terms, carrying, cuddling, choking, pet names, f!reader
you've got mail â ! yayay i had so much fun writing this! i have this hc that these three are the most buff, even wrio and itto has the old models. also the banners have the baddest quality but if i was going to put the whole thing i'd be way too big, also the wrio banner kinda has a white part, but i can't be bothered to fix it.. also creds to the person who first had the idea of varka calling reader 'pup'.
varka who loves to pick you up bridal-style, swinging you around in his muscular arms. your weight was never a problem for him, not with his immense strength. those long, tiresome training sessions to skillfully master his wolf's gravestone, which weighed heavily on him, paid off for him and his beloved. he would shower you with kisses all over your face, smooching each detail of your features. his lips would occasionally peck on your shoulders as his stubble tickles your skin. "y'er. don't. know. how. much. i. missed. ya. hon." he whispers endearingly between smooches while you giggle under grizzly affection.
it didn't matter if he had just gone on the most tiresome expedition, or if he had swung his claymore all day to protect the people of mondstadt from the dangers of lurking monstersâonly the image of you cradled in his large arms gave him the determination to pursue each troubling day. "hey, darling." a quiet husky voice lingers behind you. still, you had no time to react as you were scooped up into someone's biceps in one smooth motion. varka's broad chest vibrated against you when he let out a booming laugh that probably echoed all over tevyat. "missed you, sweets, been mhm, thinkin' bout you every second of the day," he growled against your skin, planting more and more kisses as he talked that caused you to feel warmer than usual.
but his unusual strength is not only useful for sweeping you off your feet, but also to conveniently help him lift you effortlessly to help his cock plunge into the deepest parts of your cervix. he absolutely loves to put you in positions where his arms and hands need to raise you so his fat tip can go all the way in. standing lotus, standing cowgirl, standing reverse cowgirl, standing full nelson, against the wall, almost anything that requires for him to carry or stand he is all over for it.
"hmm, that's it. you're taking it, s' good pup.." he groans in your ear, his dick filling your tight hole up. your arms wrapped around his neck while his warm palms held you up by your ass, balancing your weight on his. a whine falls off your lips when you could feel varka fill you to the brim, and his mushroom tip reaching your cervix.
wriosthesley, who always came home with his energy depleted and dark eye bags circling his under eyes, showing the effects of waking up early when the sun barely peeked over the horizon and of slumbering at the depths of midnight. as soon as he got home from the fortress of meropide, he hurriedly took off his heavy boots and jacket putting it beside the front door of your shared house, and throwing other of his miscillaneous accesories off somewhere. wrio heads straight to the bedroom, where you were nestling soundly beside an empty space he owns.
he quietly closes the door behind him, making a soft click once he fully rotates the knob. a soft smile making its way to his lips, as he sighs now that he's finally at ease with no one bothering his ass away. wriothesley lets his body retreat into the comforts of the fluffy sheets. his hand pulls up the covers so he can huddle closer to you. you were then woken up from your slumber when you could feel yourself get pulled into someone's broad frame. "wrio what are yo-", "sorry, give me this moment love.." he says in a low voice before nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck while pushing your back flush against his broad frame. you could feel the warmth of his aching body spread to yours, while your hearts beat steadily. he just loves to cuddle with his princess after a tired day.
this man's favorite part of the day is coming back from his draining work to his beloved, letting his guard down now that he knows he's safe and sound, even though he's the one wrapping you in his muscular forearms. although sometimes this warm cuddle session turns to something more heated, he pushes his frustration into your lips, his tongue pursuing you aggressively while his toned arms put up one of your legs as he ruts into your heat in a rhythmic pattern. the arousal from your earlier orgasm drips and stains the sheets, but you couldn't care less, not with how good he's fucking you right now.
his hips move like there's no tomorrow, earning shameful moans that spill out of you endlessly. your tongue lolled when his wide shaft hit another sweet spot inside your walls. "shit, you feel so f'ckin' good, and i'm not stopping till the suns up." he growls, battling your tongue whilst he could feel you shake uncontrollably and clamp down on his length. you wanted to argue, knowing that his body clock was a mess, but he shuts up by winning control over your own mouth.
itto who proudly shows his endearment through physical approaches, for example, his favorite by putting you in breath-taking hugs, literally. at some point, you were mad at him for his deathly embraces, but no matter how many reminders you give him, the man just does not seem to know how to control his strength. so you just accept this dangerous trait of his, and every time he skips happily like a little girl towards you, his arms flailing wide open, you take a deep breath as if you were about to take a deep dive, but instead it's a pile of muscles.
"oh my archons, baby! you wouldn't believeâ" itto pauses at his rant, before lowering his head to see you choking on his pillowy like pecs, it looked comical in an outside view. he chuckles awkwardly before reducing the pressure of his bear hug. your head cartoonishly pops up out of his large arms, and you wear an annoyed look at your boyfriend. "my skull was about to crack," you note bluntly, eyes staring daggers at him. itto scratches the back of his head. "woopsie.. you're just too cute!" he exclaims as he squishes you into him like a child playing with his squeaky toy. your head returns to dive into his muscles, stunting you from being able to breathe.
one could call this a dream, but to you, it was a suffocating nightmare. but you would not complain if the dream was a wet one. the way he would wrap his vein-filled bicep around your neck, cutting your airways off while he's jerking his hip to push himself further in. your ability to whimper was taken away by his muscles, forcing you to only let out strangled cries out of your throat harshly. his arms strangled you so badly that it left you to beg for him to loosen even just for a second, but oh, did it feel so fucking good didn't dare to fight it.
his arms have you in a headlock, leaving you gasping and wheezing for air. your body stiffens, while he pounds you into mush. itto lets out animalistic grumbles, his arms getting tighter around you by the second. you could feel his length pulse and swell inside your dripping cunt. and with a final strong thrust, his seed spills in you while his arms relax. you loudly gasp, feeling your throat is no free from pressure, but a few seconds pass by, and he has you choking in his arms again and pulling his shaft in and out of you. "c-can't stop it, baby!" he exclaims as he claims your pussy, pushing his cum deeper.
all rights reserved Š tsumikou. do not repost, rewrite, or translate.
especially when heâs got you pinned beneath him, buried so deep inside your tight, dripping cunt that you can barely think straight.
every brutal thrust has him dragging against every sensitive ridge inside you, slamming right into that spongy spot that makes your eyes roll back and your toes curl so hard they cramp.
his hips is snapping with that cocky, practiced rhythm, stretching you open around his thick cock like he owns every inch of your body.
the wet, filthy sound of him pounding into your soaked pussy fills the room, your juices coating his length and dripping down your ass with every deep stroke.
and he just canât help himself.
the moment you start clenching and fluttering around him, moaning like a whore, that feral side of him takes over.
he leans down with a wicked grin, his eyes gleaming with pure mischief and hunger, and sinks his teeth into your skin very hard.
he bites down on the junction of your neck and shoulder, teeth digging in so sharply you yelp in pain, your whole body jerking violently beneath him.
âfuck- satoru!â you cry out, but he just moans like itâs the sweetest sound heâs ever heard.
he thinks youâre screaming because it feels that good.
âshit, baby⌠youâre so loud for me..â he groans against your bitten flesh, voice husky and dripping with arrogance.
his tongue laps over the fresh, throbbing mark before he bites down again, harder this time, right above your collarbone.
the sharp sting blooms into burning heat as he sucks hard, leaving a deep purple bruise while his cock keeps bullying that perfect spot inside you without mercy.
you scream again, a raw, broken sound thatâs equal parts pain and overwhelming pleasure and it only makes him worse.
satoru chuckles darkly, the vibration traveling through your skin as he grinds his hips in slow, filthy circles, stirring his cock deep in your guts.
âyeah? right there, huh? keep screaming like that, sweetheart. youâre clenching so fucking tight every time i bite you⌠makes me think you love when i get rough.â
he shifts his angle, folding you nearly in half as he drives even deeper, another harsh bite lands on the swell of your breast, teeth grazing your nipple before clamping down.
the pain shoots straight to your core, making your pussy gush around him.
satoruâs lost in it, he pistons into you faster, harder, the headboard slamming against the wall as he chases his own high.
he bites your neck one more time, right as his fingers find your swollen clit, rubbing tight, mean circles.
the mix of pain and pleasure shoves you violently over the edge.
you shatter around him, screaming loud enough to make your throat raw as your walls spasm and flutter wildly.
satoru groans in satisfaction, hips stuttering as he fucks you through it, chasing his own release while still nibbling and sucking on your abused skin like he canât get enough.
synopsis. youâve been transported into love and deepspace, but youâre minding your business. he's also minding your business.
pairing. NONE, maybe suited for rumored sixth li ever guy
content/mdni. fem!reader, non-mc!reader, isekai!au, barista!reader, world building, no romance, no relationships, HORRORISH, PARANOIA, being watched, being stalked, panic attack, ever shenanigans, just me talking shit.
word count. 1.5k
a/n. idk what this is, yâall, i just wanted to put this idea out there. now iâm going back to studying byeeeâ please tell me your thoughts! feedback and reblogs are deeply appreciated!
imagine you woke up in your room â except it wasnât really your room, but a carefully constructed counterpart that materialized in linkon city.
imagine everything was the same: the extremely cluttered bathroom shelves, the overflowing chair with clothes too clean yet too dirty to relocate, the always stained oven⌠even the mismatched lightbulbs from the living room lamp were there, shining both white and yellow.
but imagine the view of your apartment was entirely different.
imagine the old and shabby town you were living in was replaced by something greater. a city youâve only seen in still shots, a city youâve gotten accustomed to through background sketchesâŚ
in your favourite otome game, love and deepspace.
âno fucking way.â
imagine you spent the first hour just looking around the apartment, then the rest of the evening was given to the city skyline, watching the ginormous buildings, the futuristic architecture, the holographic billboards for brands youâve never heard before.
imagine you pieced it together slowly, restoring the life youâve been given with the help of your phone. you were transported into love and deepspace, but not as emcee; there was no glowing evol, no sign of a hunter career, no trace of the five love interests.
you were just⌠you. an extra. a background npc with a forgettable face, working as a barista at destiny cafÊ.
and that was perfect.
you did not wish to get entangled with the love interests, and you definitely wanted to stay away from emcee â their world was too dangerous, too unpredictable. and no matter how much you knew about the game, how many hours youâve spent collecting memories and reading the lore of the characters, you couldnât shape your future steps with certainty.
so you made a quiet pact with yourself: you would not interfere with anyone. you would only play your part, watching the main characters from afar.
that in itself was enough â seeing them all interact, seeing them all be happy.
imagine you saw her for the first time exactly the next day. emcee entered the cafĂŠ with tara sometime during the day, and you tried your best to act natural as you took their orders with shaky hands.
then, gradually, you saw them all.
you observed rafayel and emcee taking a walk along the shore, the sound of the waves chiming in tune with their giggles. you watched zayne pause mid-step to tuck a strand of hair behind emceeâs ear near the hospital area. you saw xavier fall asleep against her shoulder on a park bench, his face soft and content. you even caught a glimpse of sylusâs unmistakable silhouette in a secluded alley, helmet visor raised, and even calebâs boyish grin as he ruffled emceeâs hair outside a convenience store.
you never spoke to any of them. you didnât need to. just seeing it all was enough for you.
you were their watchful eye.
but imagine something was off.
imagine you started to notice the scribbles that were woven into the buildings around town, curious graffiti drawings taking over otherwise blank surfaces.
at first, it seemed like random vandalism â sloppy spirals, nonsense symbols, an array of colours that made people stop only for a second. but then⌠it became strange.
letters and words bloomed on the outer walls, graffiti now taking more eloquent forms.
that was the problem. that was what made you stop dead in your tracks, skin covered in prickling goosebumps.
you saw a word in your native language.
âHELLO.â
you stood frozen, pulse stuttering. people were already scrubbing at it, muttering on and on about vandals, but you just stood there, trying to make sense of the graffiti.
imagine you moved on with your routine, but the messages followed along.
a scribble on the side panel of the garbage shute: âKNOW.â a flash of green paint on a train station pillar: âUNDERSTAND.â an elegant curvature on your favourite convenience store: âSEEâ.
each one in your mother tongue, each one making you more and more paranoid.
you told yourself it was a prank, a coincidence, a glitch in your own panicked mind.
it couldnât be anything else, really.
imagine the messages escalated beyond singular words, becoming phrases that clawed directly into that anxious brain of yours. a week after the first âHELLOâ, you saw it on the side of a delivery truck waiting at a red light:
âYOU UNDERSTAND.â
your blood went cold, starting in your thumping chest and creeping down to your fingertips. you stumbled back from the crosswalk, clutching your bag like a shield, terrified by the perfect syntax.
it wasn't the language that scared you; it was the wording. whoever was doing this knew things they absolutely should not know.
they knew you were not from this world, they knew you were an outsider that had no business being here.
imagine you started taking different routes to destiny cafĂŠ, weaving through back alleys and less crowded areas, your head perpetually low.
the city, once a breathtaking panorama of your favorite fictional world, now felt like a cage lined with watchful eyes. the holographic billboards that had once charmed you now seemed to flicker ominously.
you avoided looking at reflective surfaces â shop windows, polished cars, the dark screen of your phone. you were terrified of seeing someone standing right behind you, someone that shouldnât know you were in linkon city.
imagine the paranoia began to manifest physically. you were sleeping less, picking at your food, flinching at sudden noises. the cheerful chime of the cafĂŠ door sounded like a warning bell.
heck, the friendly chatter of customers felt like a coded message, and you somehow convinced yourself everyone was discussing you.
you were slowly losing your mind.
and imagine you saw emcee that day. she walked up to the counter with her familiar smile, ordering her usual, overly complicated coffee concoction. you focused on her, trying your best to loosen up. make small talk. act normal.
you are a barista. she is a customer. this is a transaction.
nothing bad was going to happen.
she is emcee. she is safe. and so are you.
ârough day?â she asked when she returned at the pick-up station, tilting her head, scanning your face with genuine worry.
you managed a weak laugh, wishing to conceal your uneasiness, hands pushing forward the iced cup of coffee. âjust tired. hereâs your drink.â you muttered back, holding up her mug for her to take.
but imagine you were wrong.
imagine something bad did happen.
as you looked at emcee, you saw it: the entire wall of the building directly across the street was no longer the muted gray you remembered. it had been transformed overnight into a single, massive mural, clearly visible through the huge window of the cafĂŠ.
it wasn't art.
it was a sentence, painted in dripping, blood-red letters, so large you could read them from behind the counter, from the depths of your own impending doom.
the letters were in your mother tongue.
 âIâM WATCHING YOU.â
followed by your actual name.
the coffee cup slipped from your grasp.
the ceramic shattered against the tile floor with a powerful crack, sending a hefty quantity of iced coffee on your apron and the lower half of the counter. the sound was deafening in the cheerful bustle of the cafĂŠ, putting everything on pause.
every conversation halted. every head turned. emcee flinched, her smile dissolving into confusion.
all eyes were on you.
imagine the sudden weight of all those eyes, all focused on you. the words from the graffiti echoed louder and louder in your skull, syncing with each panicked beat of your heart.
watching. they were all watching.
your coworkers, the customers, the old woman by the window, the child tugging at her mother's sleeve. emcee, her hand halfway to her mouth, her brow furrowed in concern.
were they in on it? were they aware you were fake? an outsider?
the walls felt like they were closing in, the cheerful cafĂŠ lighting suddenly harsh and interrogatory. the message wasn't just on the building anymore; it was in the glint of every eye pinned on your trembling form.
imagine emcee took a step towards you, her expression shifting into concern. âhey, are you okay? you look really paleââ
you didn't hear the rest of her sentence. you couldn't breathe. you couldn't think. your mind was screaming at you to get away.
get away. they can see you. they know you.
you shoved through the swinging staff door, not stopping until you reached the back door leading outside. you collapsed against the closest wall, sliding down next to the stuffed garbage bins and curling into yourself, pushing your face between your knees and letting it all out.
imagine the sobs came in gasping, ugly cries that you muffled with your stained apron, fear shaking through you.
you were not safe. your decision to keep your distance, your role as a background extra â it was all an illusion.
someone had been tracking you, studying you, learning your secrets.
you were not an observer anymore. you were the observed. you were a target in a story you thought only you watched from outside, but you were proven wrong.
he knows of your existence, but you didnât know of his.
âbring her to me. quietly.â
Špearlescenthoney 2026. do not copy, translate, or claim any of my writings or works as your own.
tags: @yuunileb, @txtworlddom, @xyzsbaobei, @loreleis-world, @demonicangelll, @dreamydaredevil, @glitterykingdomangel, @damianalily, @weirdothatwrites, @cherrytokkiz, @brailsthesmolgurl, @happyshark2222, @velomira, @darkchococwoissant, @remnantsofgildedcages, @starswillseeus, @ninalove323, @lumichella, @amanehyuga, @txtworlddom, @milumier, @someonestopsoren, @lettushi, @jadeloverxd, @hellothisisnanaaa, @ops-esion, @remnantsofgildedcages, @maplewood-valley. if you see this and want to be added to the main taglist, please let me know!
itâs getting warmer out and your man happens to be very taken by your cute outfit to celebrateâŚ.
đ cast: Diluc, Alhaitham, Wriothesley, Varka x fem reader
warnings: light nsfw, soft n sexy, reader wears a dress (obvi), groping and teasing, making out, wriothesley slaps your butt, alcohol mention/reader gets picked up in varkas part MINORS AND BLANK/AGELESS BLOGS DNI
You twist once more in the mirror, smoothing your dress down with a satisfied hum at your appearance. Itâs a warm day, beautifully sunny and your lover has suggested a daytime date to enjoy such an occasion with you. Itâs lucky when heâs his own boss, and Diluc can take an afternoon to get in some more time with you within his occasionally busy schedule.
You appear in the doorway of his office to see him still seated at his desk, his expression pinched and focused as he scribbles his signature on a paper.
âDiluc, Iâm ready for our date!â you call out to him carefully â though you know he could rarely, if ever, be cross with you.
Diluc looks up from his desk and his gaze lands on you. Youâre pinned in your spot while sharp ruby eyes seem to slowly look you up and down. For a moment you feel like a rabbit in a trap. Dilucâs lips twitch at the corner and he glances back down at his papers.
âAlright my darling, why donât you close the door and come sit with me as I finish up?â he says with a look sent your way. You bounce on the balls of your feet a little before closing the thick wooden door of his office, coming âround the corner of his desk where he scoots himself back with his legs spread wide for you to perch yourself like the pretty, sweet thing you are.
You sit on Dilucâs thigh with your knees turned in, your arms going around his neck while his free arm winds around your waist to steady you in his lap as he picks his quill back up. You pull yourself to him a little closer to press a kiss to his ear, and he chuckles in soft delight at your affections.
Diluc keeps seeing your outfit from the corner of his eye, the material hugging your curves and so much of your bare skin on display. A testament of the weather finally warming up. If he turns his head even just a little, your cleavage is at the end of his nose. He canât say he minds it one bit.
He angles his chin towards your chest, then tilting his face towards the swell of one of your breasts. He kisses you there, lips pursed against the plush.
âThis new? Your dress I mean.â He asks, his warm breath on you. You hum lightly in response, until Diluc presses down another kiss, and another â dotting them all along your cleavage, your collarbone, and up the side of your throat.
âYouâre lovely.â he whispers to your jaw.
You breathe a little heavier and naturally arch into his mouth, causing your tits to push closer to his face. You moan his name sweetly, your arms around his neck aiding to keep his steady and relentless mouth on your skin. Your heaving chest is nearly wet and the neckline tugged down lewdly which only causes the gentlemanâs heart to race with need â and feeling it especially in his trousers.
His hand that holds you around your waist has also moved to your thigh, gathering the fluffy and light fabric of your sundress in his grasp until your bare hip is visible. You whimper, an impatient huff that tells Diluc not to stop, as more of you is uncovered. Diluc looks down at where your underwear should be, ready to tug them down your legs. He blinks back up at you, owlishly.
You smile, a mischievous little laugh as you shift your position on Dilucs lap to straddling him. Your pretty little dress is hiked up dangerously high on your thighs now as Diluc hums at you with a slow raise of his lips, and he descends his wanting mouth upon your chest once more and your head falls back in pleasure.
You both suppose that the date can wait, the warm sun will continue to illuminate your joined bodies from the windows in Dilucs office until then.
Applying the finishing touches to your makeup, you do a little twirl in the mirror, smiling to yourself when your sundress billows out around your thighs as you do. Itâs cool and light for such a warm day â a nice change from the surprising little cold snap that Sumeru just had (or at least, whatâs cold for Sumeru). You tug your sandals on to go out to greet your lover, Alhaitham, who is reading on the couch.
âHabibi, are you ready to go?â you ask with a half smile on your face, a bit amused at always finding him with his nose in a book. Youâre used to it by now, of course. Alhaitham closes his book with a sharp snap, looking up at you. Aqua eyes are half lidded, gentle but calculating. You find that when he looks at you itâs never scrutinizing, itâs curious. He always wants to know more about you.
âHm. That outfitâŚIâm not sure about it.â Alhaitham says plainly as he takes your hand and has you sit next to him. So much for not being critical! You huff a bit, holding back on a pout,
âWhat? You donât like itâŚ? I wore it for you.â
Alhaithams chest tightens at your disposition, fingers coming to the strap of your dress, the way it seems to want to fall off your bare shoulder. He pulls it to its proper place and his slight touch has your heart fluttering.
âItâs distracting.â he replies, opting to cup your cheek. You frown.
He kisses your pout, and you lean into it eagerly. Alhaithams other arm winds around your waist and pulls you closer, kissing you softly,
âDo you like my outfit or not? Kind of getting mixed signals here.â you chuckle shyly into his mouth. Alhaitham offers you an upturn of his lips, a slender smile that you hum at.
âYouâre very beautiful.â he remarks, kissing you again. Open mouthed and hot until youâre panting against each other, and youâve found yourself on your back on his couch. His body is slotted between your legs, heavily pressed against your core. Thereâs a soft symphony of moans and hushed sounds of kissing, feeling a heady ache at your center that Alhaitham seems to take note of. His hands push your cute dress up further as he moves down your body, kissing down your inner thigh.
You arch on the couch, his kisses teasing and only going anywhere else but where you truly want him. You whine, squeezing your thighs around his head to trap him.
âWell, you still havenât answered my question, do you like my outfit or not?â you purse your lips at him. Alhaithams hands reach up to grip your knees and he spreads them. You whimper.
âI like it, however, itâs going to be coming off.â he promises.
The beach is wonderfully warm and windy when you arrive, opting to take your shoes off and hold them in your hand to feel the sand between your toes as you walk down to the shoreline with a picnic basket on your other arm. You can see Wriothesley from where you are, and youâre giddy at the sight of a picnic date with your beloved â who took a day off to ensure some extra quality time with you. You even bought a new dress, something short and strappy and comfortable for such a toasty afternoon on the beach.
Wriothesley has already shucked off his coat and vest, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his bulging biceps and even unbuttoned a little lower than usual. However just as you think youâre going to be the one distracted by him, when he sees you coming down the beach as the wind causes your sundress to billow around your thighs, heâs staring at you like youâre an angel.
âWow.â is all he can say with a charming smirk on his face when you stop just in front of him. You shrug happily and do a little turn in your dress, leaning up on your toes as he leans down, to meet each other in a greeting kiss. You pull away from him but his big hand settles on your waist for a squeeze, you laugh but he looks at you so wolfishly your face heats up rapidly.
You quickly move to grab the beach blanket that Wriothesley brought with him, the pair of you working together to spread it out nicely enough for you to put your picnic down to eat. Youâre on your knees, trying to swipe away some sand from the blanket, when a sudden gust of wind blows the bottom of your dress up.
You squeal, feeling your entire backside exposed for a moment before you can tug your dress back down. Wriothesley reaches over to help fix it as well, knuckles brushing against your thigh.
âThose were cute.â he chuckles, talking about your panties. You squawk, lightly slapping his arm,
âYou brute!â you huff, making Wriothesley grin wider. He catches you at the waist when you laugh shyly in return, rolling you onto him as he lays back on the picnic blanket. His hands slide down to cup your ass, settling them there as you kiss him with a hum.
âDonât know what this brute did to have a pretty girl like you, in your pretty dress, laying on me like this.â he grins. Your body warms at his sincerity, although by now your sweet dress is quite wrinkled, bunched up as you cup his jaw to kiss your lover again.
As your lips move against each other, Wriothesleys hands roughly bunch your dress up further until your underwear is visible once again, and one of his palms then flattens out to deliver a loud swat at your bottom. You gasp in surprise, blinking at him for his boldness. You canât deny that when he does that, it makes you ache terribly between your legs. Wriothesley smirks, catching your lips with his again, hands kneading and rubbing at your butt to keep you tightly against his body.
The picnic stays in the basket for a good while, when your Duke decides heâd rather feast on you first.
The trek to the giant oak tree at Windrise would sometimes tire you out, a long walk from the inner city of Mondstadt being quite a ways for you â but today youâre quickly approaching in excitement, coming to meet Varka beneath the tree for an afternoon drink and a well deserved rest for the pair of you. Your dress floats in the breeze, almost playful as the hem billows around your legs the closer you get.
Your lover calls to you, waving brightly in the sun when you spot him. He opens his arms and you instinctively giggle, opting to run towards him so he can catch you at the waist and twirl you around before kissing you and setting you back on your feet. You stumble a little when youâre back on the ground, both of you laughing while Varkas large hands grip your waist to help steady you.
âWell arenât you in a good mood!â you grin, the knight absolutely beaming back at you while he takes your hand in his and pulls it to his lips for a gallant kiss.
âOf course I am! Just look at you. Itâd be criminal for a guy not to be happy when his girl is as pretty as you.â he quips back, tugging you gently towards the trunk of the oak tree where a bottle of dandelion wine and two glasses sit atop a couple of pillows and a blanket. Your heart warms at his cute, thoughtful attempt of making the spot look proper for a date, even if it is just you and him with a drink and the leaves over your heads.
You bend over to look at the setup, and though a man of honor, Varkas gaze slides to the way your dress rides up just a tad, and even moreso â when you turn back to him with a grin he notices the way the neckline of your dress highlights the curves of your chest. His lips lift at the corner as he strides a little closer to you, his broad hands coming to settle on your hips.
âYour dress is nice. Real nice.â he muses, walking you back slowly, carefully, until your back is against the tree trunk. You look up at him with a warmed face and fluttering lashes, and when Varka notices how your breathing picks up in the slightest, your breasts heave too in your cute little outfit.
âThank you, itâsâŚnew.â you purse your lips, letting your fingers playfully walk up his bare chest until you link your hands behind his neck.
Youâre telling me you got thisâŚfor little old me?â Varka chuckles, but you see the sweetest pink flush his cheeks, and he hasnât even had a drink yet. You giggle and nod,
âYeah.â
He descends upon your lips, squeezing your hips and waist as he kisses you. You feel him smile against your mouth, and he parts only for a moment to shoot you a playful look before he hoists you up against the tree trunk. Your legs wrap around his waist as you squeal in surprised delight, but heâs already kissing you and grinding against your core before you can form another thought.
Your sweet dress is pushed up nearly to your waist as he grunts roughly into your mouth, keeping you solidly against the tree and curled safely in his arms to feel all of his broad, hard want for you.
Heâs going to drink up, by getting drunk on you.
the gap moe is gojo satoru, number one gaming youtuber in japan, and how he crashes out loser style whenever people hit on his vlogger girlfriend. (thatâs you, by the way.)
content: language, crude humor, crack fic, modern au, youtuber au, everyone is an adult, hints of reverse harem
18+. the many times you & higuruma get caught at work.
I. case one: the evidence locker ( 8:12 PM )
higuruma hiromi is dark pressed suit, two rings on his long fingers & a moral compass that always points north. youâre a paralegal with skirt 3cm below the dress code & a magnet in your molars that has hiromiâs compass swiveling south.
youâre tugging on his tie now. âcome onnn, âruma. please?â
a paralegal should not be referring to their boss as âruma. they also should not be dragging him into the evidence locker at 8PM to look for a âmissing fileâ he swears doesnât even exist. youâre currently doing both. and higuruma lets you.
your lips are summer sticky & far too hot. your handâs in his hair now, nails on his nape, his palm bunching at the folds of your skirt. your breathâs ridiculously hot in his mouth as you huff & puff against his tongue, shoving him against the lockers. hiromi slaps your ass when you dare to let out a whine.
BANG !
the loud sound jolts your bodies apart. higurumaâs palm is still on your thighââhiromi ?!â
âthe auto-lock,â his palms drag over his face. he breathes, âitâs eight-thirty. the basement seals automatically till the morning shift.â
he lets out a low, frustrated groan that vibrates through your rib. even now, youâre still pressed against him, half-clothed tits pressed into his chest as his thumb grazes circles on your hip. he dials a number with his other hand, ignoring the sloppy, gloss-drenched kisses you leave on his jaw as he speaks to the security desk at the end of the line.
half-an-hour laterâafter higurumaâs stewing & you calming him down with apology head, complete with your hair tied in a sympathy bun of courseâthe heavy metal door drags open. a security guard armed with a flashlight walks in. heâs greeted with the sight of higuruma buttoning your shirt, sympathy bun long come undone.
youâre free. and youâre in so much trouble.
â Y/N L/N âŻâŻ DISCIPLINARY RECORD.
offense: UNAUTHORIZED AFTER-HOURS ACCESS & BREACH OF SECURITY
punishment: Written warning & $500 Penalty fine for Emergency Override.
issued by: Levi Ackerman, Chief of security.
CC: Higuruma Hiromi, [Y/N] [L/N]
âthe evidence locker is no place for âprivate deliberations.â and keep in mind all audio is recorded. in no world should the word âtightâ be moaned in an emergency distress call.
II. case two: encrypted outlook thread ( 12:21 PM )
higuruma hiromi ought to teach you a lesson.
frankly, youâre the worst paralegal heâs had the mispleasure of working with since joining pearson hardman. he canât help but envy his rival, phoenix wright, and his paralegal, maya fey!
youâre much too forgetful, too busty, too disorganized. at 9AM today the files for the high-priority danganronpa case were due on his desk. they didnât reach him till eleven, and you had the audacity to add on a sticky note labeled âsorry!â and âmeet me downstairs for some apology head ;)â. higuruma hiromi has concluded that you never learn.
so he decides heâll teach you himself.
Subject: Investigative Documents for Danganronpa Case
From: Higuruma Hiromi
To: [L/N], [Y/N]
Y/N,
Not only were the documents I requested for prep late, they were also extremely disorganized. This is a serious case regarding kidnapped and murdered children, and I suggest you exercise some more seriousness and be more meticulous in your conduct. You also left an implicit sticky-note attached to the files. I suggest you come visit my office, lest I file a formal complaint.
Regards,
Higuruma Hiromi
â
Subject: RE: Investigative Documents for Danganronpa Case
From: [L/N], [Y/N]
To: Higuruma, Hiromi
Counselor,
Are you threatening me with a complaint? Iâm just doing my job. I did notice your tie was a bit crooked today, though, so Iâd be happy to come fix it for you when I swing by your office. Or take it off completely. Let me know when youâd like me to drop in and fix those files!
Regards,
Y/N L/N
â
Subject: RE: RE: Investigative Documents for Danganronpa Case
From: Higuruma, Hiromi
To: [L/N], [Y/N]
Y/N,
You can come fix it now. And then Iâm going to fix the way you think you can talk to a Senior Associate. I will lock the door, and you will not be released till you admit exactly how much of a headache youâre deliberately trying to be. Don't test me, [Y/N]. Iâm a very patient man, but even I have limits.
Higuruma Hiromi.
ăź
Subject: RE: RE: RE: Investigative Documents for Danganronpa Case
From: [L/N], [Y/N]
To: Higuruma, Hiromi
ruma,
i suck at corporate speak đ are u saying ur gonna eat my pussy orrrrrr
â
Subject: [SECURITY ALERT] KEYWORD FLAG / SERVER SCRUB
From: Hange ZoĂŤ (IT Department)
To: Higuruma, Hiromi; [L/N], [Y/N]
CC: Human Resources (General Inbox)
Hi Hiromi, [Y/N],
Just a friendly heads-up: Iâm running the quarterly server audit and the 'harassment/explicit' keyword filter just went off like a fire alarm on your thread. Specifically because of the word 'pussy.â
Sorry to intrude on your corporate sexting session! Iâve paused the sync to the main server, but the automated log has already been forwarded to the Senior Partners. You guys might want to check your calendars. Erwin at HR just opened a new 'Conduct Investigation' folder with both your names on it (uh oh!)
Best of luck to you both! And Y/N, I could be wrong, but I think his last message was implying BDSM; though I donât doubt heâd be willing to eat you out as well!
Happy eating!
ZoĂŤ Hange
â Y/N L/N âŻâŻ DISCIPLINARY RECORD.
offense: MISUSE OF COMPANY COMMUNICATION CHANNELS / EXPLICIT DIGITAL CONDUCT
punishment: Mandatory 2-hour 'Digital Ethics' Webinar & temporary monitoring of all outgoing firm emails.
issued by: Erwin Smith, Head of Human Resources.
CC: Higuruma Hiromi, [Y/N] [L/N]
âIt has come to our attention that the Danganronpa Case thread was used for âpersonal negotiations,â that which our investigative committee has concluded were most likely inappropriate. Please refrain from using the firmâs Outlook servers as your personal Wizz/Tinder moving forward. And Higuruma, we expect better from you. Please report to room three on floor six after lunch break. The door will not be locked.â
III. case three: company zoom meeting ( 5:04 PM )
higuruma hiromi thinks heâs so fucking smart.
he also thinks heâs the king of calendar invites. so when he tells you to send out an email for a company zoom meeting for 6PM but set the zoomâs actual time to five, he supposes his intellect rivals god.
âyouâre late, y/n,â higurumaâs voice is close to guttural. heâs laid back on his desk chair, tie loose, legs spread, hair impossibly messy. and youâre knelt on your floor, laptop on your thighs.
youâre sporting the cutest little bath robe higuruma has ever seen. youâre grinning at the screen, cheeks peach-dappled & lips bent in a clumsy smile,
âhi, âruma! wanna see my tits?â
lord, how higuruma adores you !
and who is he to say no? he leans back against his seat, swivel chair groaning with a creeeaaak. heâs already unzipping his pants as you begin to shrug off your pretty pink robe, breasts glazed over & supple in the fluorescent light.
a tiny, bright green notification pings at the bottom of the screen.
[Participants: 48]
higuruma freezes. then rises up, palm curling off his shaft & inching towards his keyboard.
slowly, agonizingly, he clicks on gallery view.
forty-six pearson hardman employees stare at him back.
erwin smith looks like he just witnessed a war promised to him 2000 years ago. hange zoĂŤ has a measuring tape held up against the screen. his rival, phoenix, is making a face that reminds him of the many memes of that one streamer youâd often send himâi show meat? levi ackerman has already left the meetingâhe knows because the notification flashes at the corner of the screen.
and right there in the center box? harvey specter, senior partner of pearson hardman ltd, has his chin in his hand & eyes intensely locked on to the screen.
is he looking at your breasts ?
oh right, you! youâve been calling out for the past one minute now, completely unaware of the other forty-six employees watching your wet nipples glisten in the light.
ââruma? âruma? ugh, is this thing on?â
higuruma slams his laptop shut. it bangs louder than the gunshot that killed charlie kirk.
â Y/N L/N âŻâŻ DISCIPLINARY RECORD.
offense: PUBLIC INDECENCY / TOTAL BREACH OF FIRM REPUTATION
punishment: Termination of Employment (Effective Immediately)
issued by: Harvey Specter, Senior Partner ; The Board of Directors.
CC: Higuruma Hiromi (RESIGNED), [Y/N] [L/N]
âHey guys! Harvey here. So after a meeting with the rest of the board, weâve come to the decision to terminate your employment. Higuruma, your resignation letter has been duly received. Gonna be completely honest, that was the last thing I ever expected to see in a corporate meeting. But you two really spiced up my evening, thanks! I tried to negotiate with Jessica and the other directors on your behalves, but sadly they werenât having it.â
P.S: âNice cock, Hiromi! Very impressive both length and girth wise. And sorry for sneaking a peak at your chest, Y/N. At the very least, your boob job looks very natural. Best of luck to you both!â
bad conduct, end.
EMPLOYMENT STATUS : #OPEN TO WORK !
! for those who donât have linkedin â
Š HEARTKAJI. do not steal, copy, edit, translate or reupload.
content: contrary to popular belief, the fire lord can't have everything he wants. however, even heâd admit that what he wanted was troublesome in itself, which is why he forces himself to be okay with having you by his side as his advisor.
[tw: MDNI, longfic, angst/fluff/smut, slowburn apothecary diaries coded, so much yearning and longing, porn with plot, there is no power imbalance heâs afraid of your father, zukoâs a little shit tho, weâre already married in his head]
notes: this was supposed to be a oneshot but then ideas kept popping up in my head and i thought, why don't i just turn this into a longfic like defiance?? lol. the plan is to follow these two around throughout a couple arcs, with the first one being them trying to navigate their feelings and attempting to go back to normal while trying to fix the shit show in the silk district.
chapters:
one
two
three
four
five
six
seven
eight
nine
ten
eleven
twelve
âźď¸ TAG LIST IS CLOSED âźď¸
All rights reserved Š 2026 yenayaps. Do not copy, repost, translate, or modify my works in any platform. Do not feed my works into ai and do not turn them into chat bots.
cw: explicit, creampie, fucking your boyfriendâs best friend.
Youâre straddling Sukuna on his oversized couch, riding his thick cock balls-deep inside you as you ride him. His large hands grip your ass, guiding you up and down his massive length while your tits bounce with every roll of your hips. Sukunaâs tattoos flex as he leans back, crimson eyes locked on your bouncing tits and the fucked out look on you.
âShitâyouâre tight as hell,â he growls, thrusting up to meet you. You were both definitely burning in hell for this becauseâŚ
your phone suddenly vibrates on the cushion beside you. The screen flashes Toji<3. Your boyfriend. And the cock you were currently fucking youself on? Your boyfriend's best friendsâ.
Stupid ass reflex takes over as you snatch it up and answer before you realize what youâve done. âH-hey,â you say, voice shaky and far too breathy.
Sukunaâs eyes snap wide open as his hands freeze on your hips, cock twitching violently inside you. A rare flush creeps up his neck and cheeks as he stares at you in pure disbelief. He mouths âAre you fucking stupid?â but his hips give a small, involuntary buck upward, pushing his cock deeper.
Tojiâs deep, gruff voice comes through the line. âHey, baby. You still over at Kunaâs? Howâs it goinâ?â
Sukuna looks genuinely flustered for once and tries to stay still, but his cock is throbbing so hard inside your soaked pussy that he canât help but give another slow thrust. You bite your lip hard. âY-yeah⌠weâre just hanging out. Iâahâmiss you.â
âGood. Put that bastard on the phone for a sec. Wanna ask him somethinâ.â
Your stomach drops as Ryomen looks so regretful he didnât grab your phone before you did and above it all, he doesnât pull out. Instead, he sits up slightly, wrapping one arm around your waist to hold you flush against him as he takes the phone. His cock stays buried deep inside your sopping pussy. Sukuna clears his throat, his voice strained, âWhat do you want, Fushiguro?â
Toji sounds casual as ever. âJust checkinâ in. You takinâ care of my girl? She eat yet? She gets hangry if you donât feed her.â Sukunaâs grip on your ass tightens almost painfully as he starts fucking you again harder. You bury your face in his shoulder to muffle your whimper, pussy clenching hard around him.
âYeah⌠sheâs being well taken care of,â Sukuna says as he punctuates the words with a sharper thrust, making your breath hitch. âReal full right now.â He continues as he starts bouncing you on his cock with more force.
Toji laughs. âGood. Donât let her walk all over you. She can be a handful. You two watching the fight highlights I told you about?â Sukunaâs breathing is getting ragged. He fucks you harder, one hand sliding up to pinch your nipple while he holds the phone with the other. âMmm⌠yeah. Intense shit,â he grunts, the last word rough as your walls flutter around his thick cock. âSheâs really into it.â
Youâre shaking, biting down on his shoulder to stay quiet, âAlright, Iâll leave you two to it,â Toji says eventually. âTell her Iâll pick her up later. Thanks for keepinâ her company, man.â
âNo problem,â Sukuna replies, teeth clenched as he slams you down onto his cock particularly hard. âAnytime.â The second you hang up, Sukuna tosses the phone aside and flips you onto your back in one rough motion. He looms over you, flushed and visibly pissed off at how turned on he is.
âYou fucking idiot,â he snarls, sliding his cock through your wet slicked pussy from clit to teasing you with the tip. âAnswering the damn phone while my cockâs inside youââ
You moan loud now that you can, nails raking down his back. âCouldnât help itâfuck, Kunaâcâmon put it insideââ
His tattoos ripple across his chest and shoulders with every heavy breath, âYou couldnât help it?â he repeats, âReflex, huh? Stupid fuckinâ reflex got my best friendâs voice in my ear while your pussy was creaming all over my cock.â
He slaps your pussy once with his cock before pushing in slow making you feel every thick girthy part of him. He pins your wrists above your head with one massive hand, leaning down so his mouth brushes your ear. âYou almost got us caught, you really want that? Think Toji wants a video? Should we send him one, hm?â
He releases your wrists so he can grab your thighs, folding you nearly in half as he drives into you harder. You try to keep a straight voice but end up moaning your answer. âOh donât act so holier than thou, youâhnnghâmanwhore. Fucking y-your best friends girlfriend? Best friend award of the century goes toâs-shit, right there, Ryo.â
He laughs as he folds you deeper, your knees nearly touching your shoulders. His massive body pins you down, cock spearing into you. âManwhore?â He repeats mockingly, âYeah? Says the slut who answered her boyfriendâs call with my dick stuffed inside her. Couldâve hung up. Couldâve ignored it. But noâyou picked up like a good little girlfriend while your pussy was dripping down my balls.â
You cry out, âF-fuckâRyoâ!â, your small hands grabbing onto his muscles flexing as he uses you. He leans down, biting your neck hard enough to leave a mark before licking over it. âTojiâs gonna pick you up soon⌠and youâre gonna be limping, cunt swollen and full of my cum. Think heâll notice?â
The dirty thought makes you clench violently around him. Sukuna groans, eyes rolling back for a second before he doubles down, pounding you hard. Sweat beads on his skin, his normally composed face twisted with pleasure. You nearly scream, pussy gushing around his thrusting cock as your whole body spasms while you cum. Sukuna doesnât slow down, fucking you straight through it with wet thrusts until your eyes are watering. âShitâyeah, you like that idea, donât you?â
You try to look away from him, turning your head but he grips your chin forcing you to. âOh-h, shut up, Ryo. Just-t fuck me harder,â you whimper, tears of overwhelming pleasure slipping from the corners of your eyes.
He slams into you harder, faster, as your juices coat his shaft and drip down to his balls. Thick, hot spurts flood deep inside you, pulse after pulse until itâs leaking out around his cock.
He grinds deep through it, making sure every drop stays plugged inside you. He stays buried deep as you both pant, âAnswering the phone with my dick balls-deep in you like itâs nothing. Reflex my ass. You wanted him to hear how well Iâm taking care of this pussy.â
He finally pulls out with a wet sound before slapping your ass, âNow go clean up before your boyfriend shows up and I have to pretend I didnât just rail his girl again.â
a/n: I NEED KUNAAAAA also I would so do this to get back at toji for doin something shitty hehe
synopsis: You die completely at random and wake up in the manhwa you were reading⌠as the villainous wife of the Duke of the North, no less. The same woman who spent the last six months giving her husband the cold shoulder, ruining their marriage, and basically speedrunning her own execution.
Now you have exactly one job: fix this disaster of a relationship before your husband decides to finish what the original plot started.
a\n: longest fic iâve written so far. nearly lost my mind, almost scrapped it entirely, questioned every life choice that led me here, but somehow, against all odds⌠itâs done. so glad its over LOL
You died while reading a manhwa.
One moment you were curled up in bed at 3 a.m., a blanket pulled up to your chin, the only light in your dark room coming from your phone screen. Your eyes were glued to the latest chapter of The Dukeâs Black Heart, thumb hovering over the final panel as frustration and reluctant longing twisted in your chest. The illustration was breathtakingly brutal: Duke Ryomen Sukuna standing tall amid swirling snow, pink hair tousled by the wind, crimson eyes empty of mercy, black tattoos stark against his skin as he looked down at the broken body of his wife.
The page loaded one last time. The panel filled your screen. Then your vision blurred, the room spun violently, and everything went black. No pain. No final breath. Just sudden, heavy nothing.
And then you woke up somewhere else.
Cold air rushes into your lungs, sharp and biting. Your eyes flutter open slowly, lashes feeling unusually heavy. Youâre lying in a massive four-poster bed, the canopy above you made of thick crimson velvet that drapes down like heavy curtains. The silk sheets beneath you are cool and slippery against your skin in a way that feels far too expensive, far too unfamiliar. Thick blankets weighted with fur press down on your body, carrying a faint scent of woodsmoke and aged iron. Your limbs feel wrong â too slender, too delicate. When you lift your hands, they are smaller, with smooth palms and perfectly manicured nails that catch the dim morning light filtering through tall, frost-laced windows.
You push yourself up into a sitting position. The silk nightgown slips off one shoulder. A large, ornately framed mirror stands across the room, reflecting the lavish bedchamber: dark wood furniture, heavy tapestries on the walls, a fireplace crackling faintly in the corner. You swing your legs over the edge of the bed, bare feet meeting cold stone that sends a shiver racing up your spine.
You turn toward the mirror.
The face staring back at you is not your own. It is strikingly beautiful in a refined, aristocratic way that feels both alien and intimidating.
You have transmigrated.
You are now the villainess.
Duke Ryomen Sukunaâs wife of exactly six months.
The realization slams into you like ice water. Memories that donât belong to you flood your mind in vivid, unrelenting flashes. The forced marriage ceremony under the Emperorâs decree. The wedding night where her body had lain stiff and unresponsive beneath his, silent tears tracking down her cheeks as she called him a beast under her breath and swore she would never allow him to touch her again. Six agonizing months of total, deliberate silence: never speaking a single word directly to him, never sharing his table, never sharing his bed. Only curt notes passed through servants, hidden schemes whispered to outsiders, and a cold, hateful distance that grew sharper every day. Sukunaâs contempt had hardened into something lethal.
In the original story, he kills her. Publicly. Brutally. Before the year is out â dragging her into the courtyard and ending her life with the same large, scarred hands youâve fantasized about for months.
And now Iâm her.
Your breath catches sharply in your throat. Panic explodes in your chest, tight and suffocating. Your hands fly up to press against your sternum, feeling the frantic thud of a heart that isnât supposed to be yours. Cold sweat prickles along your hairline and down your back. The room feels smaller, the air thicker. If I donât change this right now, he will kill me. I have to win him over â the man Iâve been completely obsessed with â before he decides Iâm still that same woman who deserves to die.
The heavy wooden door creaks open. Two maids slip inside, heads bowed low, shoulders hunched like theyâre expecting the worst. They carry a tray between them with a pitcher of steaming water, neatly folded linens, and a small bowl of scented oil. Their footsteps are quick but nearly silent on the cold stone floor, as if theyâre trying to disturb you as little as possible.
âMy Lady,â the older maid says quietly, almost whispering as she carefully sets the tray down on the side table. âWeâre here to help you dress. Your usual silks today?â
You swallow and keep your voice soft. âNo, not the silks. Something simpler and warmer, please. Iâm going down to have breakfast with the Duke in the dining hall.â
The younger maidâs eyes go wide. She almost drops the pitcher, water sloshing dangerously over the rim and dripping onto the floor. âBreakfast⌠with His Grace?â she blurts, voice cracking with surprise. âIn the dining hall?â
The older maid quickly elbows her and forces a nervous smile, though her hands are visibly shaking. âAre you sure, My Lady? He always eats alone. He might not⌠like it if you show up.â
You nod, sliding your legs over the side of the bed. The stone floor is icy against your bare feet, sending a shiver up your legs. âIâm sure. Please help me get ready.â You pause, then add gently, âAnd thank you. Both of you.â
The maids go completely still. The younger one stares at you with her mouth slightly open, pitcher forgotten in her hands. The older one blinks rapidly, her hands freezing mid-air above the tray. They exchange a wide-eyed, startled glance, the kind that speaks volumes without a single word. The silence stretches for a long, awkward moment, thick with confusion and unease.
Finally, the older maid clears her throat. âOf course, My Lady. Right away.â
They hesitate for another heartbeat, still stealing uncertain glances at you, before hurrying into motion. Their hands are a little clumsier than usual as they help you out of the nightgown and into a heavy charcoal gown with long sleeves. The soft wool feels warm and comforting against the chill in the air. While they brush out your hair and pin it up in a simple style, they keep darting quick, nervous looks at your reflection in the mirror. The younger maidâs fingers tremble slightly as she works, and the older oneâs breathing is a touch too shallow.
They finish dressing you in tense, heavy silence. Once they step back, you thank them again. They both bow deeply, still visibly unsettled, and you step out into the torch-lit corridor. Servants you pass press themselves flat against the walls, whispering frantically the moment your back is turned. Your heart hammers louder with every step toward the grand dining hall.
The massive double doors swing open with a low creak.
There he is.
Duke Ryomen Sukuna sits alone at the head of the long oak table. Pale morning light filters through the tall windows, casting sharp shadows across his face. Loose strands of pink hair have escaped their tie and fall across his forehead. His dark tunic stretches tight over broad, powerfully muscled shoulders, the collar open just enough to reveal the edges of intricate black tattoos that swirl across his collarbones and down his arms. Crimson eyes are narrowed in concentration as he cuts into a thick slab of meat with slow, deliberate strokes of his knife. Old scars mark the visible skin of his neck and the backs of his large, calloused hands. He radiates raw, quiet danger â the kind that makes the air feel heavier. This is the man youâve spent months fantasizing about, the one whose every appearance in the manhwa made your pulse race.
You walk straight to the chair on his right â the seat that has stayed empty for the entire six months of your marriage â and sit down.
His knife stops mid-cut.
The silence is immediate and suffocating, broken only by the soft crackle of the hearth fire.
Sukunaâs crimson gaze lifts slowly. It locks onto you with raw disbelief and burning disgust. His jaw clenches, the scar along his cheek tightening. For a long moment he simply stares, like heâs trying to decide whether youâre real or some new form of insult.
âWhat the fuck are you doing here?â His voice is low and rough, laced with irritation.
You swallow hard, hands trembling under the table. You force a small, nervous smile and say softly, âGood morning, husband. I thought it might be nice to have breakfast together for once.â
The words hang in the air.
Sukunaâs expression darkens. He sets the knife down with a sharp clink that echoes through the hall. Slowly he rises to his full height, towering over you â tall, broad-chested, every inch the warlord who has killed without hesitation. The look he gives you is ice-cold.
âYou thought it would be nice?â His voice is low, cold, and dripping with contempt. âSix fucking months you couldnât even be bothered to speak to me⌠and now you suddenly decide to play house?â
He pushes the chair back with a harsh scrape and rises to his full height, towering over you. His large hand clenches so tightly around the back of the chair that the wood groans in protest.
âJust looking at you ruins my appetite.â
Without another word, he turns sharply on his heel. His cloak snaps behind him like a whip as he stalks out of the hall. The heavy doors slam shut with a deafening boom that echoes through the room and makes the silverware rattle on the table.
Youâre left completely alone at the long table, staring at his abandoned plate as the food rapidly cools. Your heart pounds violently in your chest.
This is going to be so much harder than I thought.
But you donât run. You pick up your fork with still-shaking fingers, take a small bite of the now-lukewarm food, and force yourself to swallow. A heavy, determined weight settles in your stomach alongside the food.
The rest of the morning dragged by in a haze of nervous energy. You moved carefully through the castle, speaking softly to the servants, thanking them for small things, and trying not to overwhelm anyone with your sudden change in behavior. Every time someone flinched or stared too long, your stomach twisted. You knew they were waiting for the old you to snap back into place.
By mid-afternoon the light outside had shifted to a softer gold, and the castle felt a little less oppressive. You decided it was time to try something more direct.
You found one of the kitchen maids and asked her to prepare a simple tray â strong black tea, warm bread, and a few slices of roasted meat. These were the things you remembered him enjoying in the manhwa, the small details youâd clung to while reading late at night. Nothing too elaborate. When the tray was ready, you took it yourself, ignoring the wide-eyed, startled looks from the staff as you carried it down the long corridor toward Sukunaâs private study. Your heart beat faster with every step.
Your heart was hammering so hard it felt like it was trying to climb out of your throat. Two guards outside the heavy double doors stared at you in open confusion but didnât stop you. You paused for a second, took a steadying breath, and knocked once.
A gruff âCome inâ came from inside.
You pushed the door open and stepped into the study.
The room was exactly the kind of place youâd pictured him in â tall shelves lined with old books and rolled scrolls, a massive oak desk covered in maps and scattered letters, weapons mounted neatly on one wall. A fire burned low in the hearth, filling the air with the faint smell of smoke and polished leather. Sukuna sat behind the desk, quill in hand, pink hair tied back messily with a few loose strands falling forward. He didnât look up right away, focused on whatever he was writing.
Then his crimson eyes flicked up.
The moment they landed on you holding the tray, the temperature in the room seemed to drop. His expression shifted from irritation to pure suspicion in a heartbeat.
âWhat the hell is this?â he asked, voice low and flat, like he was already tired of whatever game he thought you were playing.
You stepped further inside and carefully set the tray down on the edge of his desk, trying not to let your hands shake too obviously. âI noticed you didnât eat anything at breakfast,â you said quietly. âSo I brought some tea and a few things. Itâs nothing fancy. I just thought⌠maybe youâd be hungry by now.â
Sukuna leaned back in his chair, studying you like you were a problem he couldnât quite solve. The silence stretched out, thick and uncomfortable. He glanced at the tray, then back at your face.
âYou brought me food,â he said slowly, almost like he was testing the words. âYou suddenly show up with tea and bread like weâre⌠what? Friends now?â
He pushed his chair back and stood, circling around the desk with slow, deliberate steps until he was standing right in front of you. He was so tall you had to tilt your head back to look at him. Up close he was even more overwhelming â the heat radiating from his body, the faint scent of leather and steel and something darker, the way his broad shoulders seemed to fill the space between you.
You forced yourself to hold his gaze. âI know Iâve been terrible to you,â you said, voice soft but steady. âI donât expect you to believe me right away. I just⌠I want to try and do better. Thatâs all.â
Sukunaâs jaw tightened. He reached out and picked up one of the slices of bread, turning it over in his large hand as if checking it for poison. Then he dropped it back onto the tray with a quiet scoff.
âYou want to try,â he repeated, the words laced with disbelief and a sharp edge of mockery. âHow convenient. Tell me, wife â what exactly changed overnight? Did someone put you up to this?â
His hand suddenly came up, fingers gripping your chin firmly but not harshly, tilting your face up so you couldnât look away. His touch was warm, rough from years of fighting, and the closeness made your pulse spike.
âOr are you just scared Iâll finally do what everyoneâs been expecting me to do for months?â he asked, voice low and dangerous.
Your breath caught. Being this close to him â feeling the intensity rolling off him in waves â made fear and something far more complicated twist together in your stomach.
âIâm not here to scheme,â you whispered. âI just donât want things to keep being like this.â
Sukuna stared at you for a long, heavy moment. His thumb brushed once over your jaw, almost absentmindedly, before he let go and stepped back.
âGet out,â he said, the words cold but quieter than you expected. âAnd take your pity tray with you.â
He didnât move away any further. He stayed standing there, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching you with dark, unreadable eyes â like he was waiting to see whether you would actually leave⌠or do something else.
You didnât argue.
You simply picked up the tray with both hands, gave him a small nod, and left the study without another word. The heavy doors clicked shut behind you. The hallway felt longer than usual as you walked back toward your chambers, the tray growing heavier with every step.
Once inside your room, you set the tray down on a side table and closed the door. Then you sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor.
That went badly.
You let out a slow breath, rubbing your hands over your thighs. The memory of Sukunaâs cold stare and dismissive words kept replaying in your head. He hadnât even touched the food. Heâd barely listened.
Of course he didnât. Months of silence doesnât just disappear because I brought him tea.
You leaned back on your hands, looking up at the canopy above the bed. The situation felt heavier now. Fixing this relationship was going to be a lot harder than youâd hoped. He clearly still saw you as the same person who had ignored and schemed against him for half a year. And why wouldnât he?
If you couldnât turn this around, things were only going to get worse. You didnât want to think about how the original story ended, but the possibility lingered in the back of your mind anyway.
You sat there for a while, the afternoon light slowly shifting across the room. Eventually you stood up, walked over to the window, and looked out at the grounds. Your mind kept turning over what to try next. Another small gesture? Giving him more space? Something else entirely?
It was going to take time. A lot of it. And patience you werenât sure you had.
You sighed quietly and moved away from the window, already thinking about what you could do tomorrow.
The next morning arrived quietly.
You woke earlier than usual, the soft grey light filtering through the tall windows pulling you from a restless sleep. For a few minutes you lay there, staring at the velvet canopy above the bed, thinking about yesterday. The rejections still stung, but you refused to give up after just one bad day.
You got up, washed, and chose a simple but elegant deep-grey gown. After eating a light breakfast alone in your room, you decided on a different approach today. No trays, no forcing your way into his meals. Just quiet presence.
You made your way to the castleâs main library â a spacious, peaceful room lined with tall shelves of books and scrolls. You picked a thick volume on regional history from the shelves and settled into a comfortable chair near the window where the light was good. Not too close to his usual spot, but not hiding either.
About an hour later, the door opened.
Sukuna walked in, still wearing his cloak from whatever business heâd been handling outside. He stopped short when he saw you already there, book open in your lap.
For a brief second his expression flickered with surprise before settling back into that familiar guarded look.
âYouâre here too now,â he said, voice flat as he moved toward the large table in the center of the room. He pulled out a chair and sat down, spreading some documents in front of him. âIs there anywhere in this castle thatâs still mine?â
You closed your book slowly and looked up at him.
âI can leave if you want,â you offered calmly. âI just thought it might be nice to read in here. Itâs quiet.â
Sukuna didnât tell you to go. He leaned back in his chair and studied you for a moment, crimson eyes sharp and assessing.
âYouâve been talking quite a bit these past two days,â he said, tone dry. âMore than Iâm used to.â
You gave a small, honest shrug. âI know. Iâm trying to change that.â
He tapped his fingers once against the table, watching you openly now. âTrying,â he echoed, like he was testing the word. âThatâs what you keep saying. But I still donât know why.â
You hesitated, then answered simply, âBecause I donât like how things have been between us. And I think we could be⌠better. If we tried.â
Sukuna let out a short, humorless breath and leaned back further, still studying you.
âBetter,â he repeated. âThatâs a bold claim.â He paused, then added quietly, âDonât get your hopes up. Iâm not interested in pretending.â
But he didnât ask you to leave.
You stayed in the library for another hour, reading in silence while he worked across from you. He didnât speak again, but every so often you caught him glancing in your direction â wary, confused, and just a little unsettled.
It wasnât much.
But it also wasnât outright rejection.
You stayed in the library for another hour, the only sounds being the occasional rustle of paper and the soft crackle of the fire. You kept your eyes mostly on your book, though you were barely absorbing the words. Every now and then you felt Sukunaâs gaze on you â heavy, searching, and still full of suspicion.
Eventually, he set his quill down with a quiet tap. He leaned back in his chair, arms crossing over his broad chest as he looked at you directly.
âIf youâre serious about wanting to fix things,â he said, voice low and even, âthen maybe you should start by actually appearing publicly with me.â
You looked up from your book, surprised. He continued before you could respond.
âThereâs a ball tomorrow night at the capital. Iâm expected to attend.â He paused, studying your reaction. âRumors have already reached half the empire that my wife hates me. It would be good to change the public perception a little. At least act like a fucking couple for once.â
The invitation â if it could even be called that â hung in the air. It wasnât warm or romantic. It was a test, plain and simple.
You closed your book slowly and met his eyes. âIâll go with you,â you said without hesitation. âIf thatâs what you want.â
Sukuna watched you for a long moment, as if waiting for you to take it back. When you didnât, something unreadable flickered across his face.
âGood,â he said simply. Then he stood up, gathering some of his documents. âBe ready by evening tomorrow. Donât make me wait.â
He headed toward the door, cloak shifting over his shoulders. Just before he left, he paused and glanced back at you one last time.
âAnd try not to embarrass me,â he added, though his tone was less biting than before. Almost⌠cautious.
The door clicked shut behind him, leaving you alone in the quiet library once again.
You let out a long breath and leaned back in your chair, heart still racing. A public ball. Tomorrow. With Sukuna.
This was a big step â and a dangerous one. Youâd have to be careful. Very careful.
But it was also an opportunity. A chance to stand beside him in front of everyone and start showing that you were different.
You stood up, clutching the book to your chest, a mix of nerves and quiet determination settling in your stomach.
Tomorrow it is.
The next day passed in a quiet blur of nerves and preparation.
You spent most of the afternoon trying not to overthink everything, but as evening approached, the anxiety crept in anyway. When the maids finally arrived to help you get ready, they moved around your room with careful, slightly confused energy â still adjusting to this gentler version of their mistress.
You chose a deep crimson gown made of rich, heavy silk that flowed elegantly to the floor. It had long, fitted sleeves and a modestly elegant neckline that showed just enough collarbone to feel refined rather than daring. The maids helped you into it, lacing the back with steady fingers while you stood in front of the large mirror. The fabric felt cool and luxurious against your skin, the color bringing out a quiet intensity you hadnât expected.
They brushed your hair until it gleamed, working through every tangle with patient strokes. Most of it was pinned up into an elegant style with delicate silver pins, but they left a few soft strands loose to frame your face. One of the maids added a simple but beautiful necklace with a single dark gem that rested just below your collarbone, along with matching earrings. A touch of rose-tinted balm was applied to your lips, and a light dusting of powder to even your complexion.
You stared at your reflection the entire time, heart beating faster. This version of you looked every bit the refined duchess â poised, beautiful, and completely unlike the cold, silent woman the public had come to expect at Sukunaâs side.
âYou look beautiful, My Lady,â the older maid said softly as she stepped back, a hint of genuine surprise in her voice.
âThank you,â you replied quietly, smoothing your hands down the front of the gown. Inside, your stomach was in knots. This would be your first real public appearance with Sukuna. Everyone would be watching. Waiting for the usual tension or outright disdain theyâd grown used to seeing between the Duke and his wife.
A firm knock sounded at the door.
âHeâs ready for you, My Lady,â a servant called from the hallway.
You took one last steadying breath, thanked the maids again, and stepped out.
Sukuna was waiting in the main hall, dressed in formal black with subtle gold embroidery along the collar and cuffs. His pink hair was neatly tied back, and the sight of him in full formal attire made your chest tighten. He looked every bit the powerful duke â tall, imposing, and dangerously handsome.
His crimson eyes swept over you slowly, from head to toe. For a moment his expression was unreadable.
âYouâre actually coming,â he said, voice low. It wasnât quite a question.
âI said I would,â you replied simply.
He gave a short nod, then offered his arm. The gesture felt stiff, like he was still testing whether youâd take it or pull away at the last second.
You slipped your hand through his arm without hesitation. His muscles were tense beneath your fingers, but he didnât pull away.
As you walked together toward the waiting carriage, he spoke again, keeping his voice low enough that only you could hear.
âPeople talk. A lot. If weâre going to do this, at least try to look like you donât hate being next to me.â
You glanced up at him. âI donât hate it.â
Sukuna didnât respond, but his grip on your arm tightened just slightly â not painful, just⌠firmer. Like he was anchoring himself.
The carriage ride to the capital was quiet, the only sounds being the wheels on the road and the occasional shift of fabric. Sukuna sat across from you, watching the passing scenery with a distant expression. Every so often his gaze would drift back to you, as if he still couldnât quite believe you were really there.
When the carriage finally slowed to a stop outside the grand hall, music and warm light spilled out into the night. You could already hear the murmur of voices and feel the weight of the eyes that would soon be on both of you.
Sukuna stepped out first, then offered his hand to help you down. His palm was warm and steady against yours.
âReady?â he asked, voice gruff.
You nodded, slipping your hand back into the crook of his arm.
âThen letâs go act like a fucking couple.â
The grand hall glowed under hundreds of crystal chandeliers, casting warm golden light across marble floors and velvet-draped walls. Music from a full orchestra swelled through the air, mingling with the low hum of conversation, the clink of champagne glasses, and the rustle of silk and satin gowns. The scent of expensive perfumes, fresh flowers, and roasted meats from the banquet tables hung heavy in the room.
The moment you and Sukuna stepped through the tall arched entrance together, the entire atmosphere shifted.
Conversations faltered. Heads turned. A ripple of surprised murmurs spread through the crowd like a wave.
You felt every eye on you. Some were curious, some shocked, many openly calculating. The Duke and Duchess of the North rarely appeared together in public â and when they had in the past, it had always been marked by cold distance and icy silence.
Tonight was different.
Sukunaâs arm was solid beneath your fingers as he guided you forward. His posture was straight and commanding, every inch the powerful Duke Sukuna the empire feared and respected. You stayed close, your hand resting lightly but deliberately on his arm, chin lifted with quiet confidence.
A portly lord with a heavy gold chain and an embroidered waistcoat approached first, bowing deeply.
âYour Grace, Duke Sukuna,â he said smoothly, then turned to you with a slightly wider smile. âAnd Duchess⌠what an unexpected pleasure to see you both together this evening.â
Sukuna gave a curt nod. âMy wife wished to attend. I saw no reason to refuse her.â
The lordâs eyebrows rose, but he recovered quickly. âHow wonderful. The two of you make quite the striking pair tonight. The Duke and Duchess of the North, united at last.â
You offered a polite, gentle smile. âThank you, my lord. Itâs a pleasure to be here.â
Sukunaâs arm tensed slightly under your hand, but he didnât pull away. As the lord moved on, more nobles drifted closer, drawn by the unusual sight. You heard the whispers clearly now.
â...the Duke and Duchess actually look civilâŚâ
âI thought she hated himâŚâ
âLook at them. Sheâs practically standing with himâŚâ
Sukuna kept you close the entire time, one large hand occasionally resting at the small of your back as you moved through the hall. The touch was possessive, almost protective, even if his face remained cool and composed.
Later, when the orchestra struck up a slower, more intimate melody, Sukuna leaned down, his voice low against your ear.
âDance with me.â
It wasnât a question.
You nodded. He led you onto the polished floor, one broad hand settling firmly on your waist while the other held yours. He moved with surprising grace for someone of his size and power â confident, controlled, guiding you effortlessly through the steps. You followed his lead, hyper-aware of every point of contact: the heat of his palm burning through the silk of your gown, the solid wall of his chest so close to yours, the faint scent of leather and smoke that clung to him.
For a few moments the rest of the room seemed to fade.
âYouâre doing better than I expected,â he muttered, voice barely audible over the music. His crimson eyes flicked down to meet yours. âPeople are staring less like theyâre waiting for us to start arguing in the middle of the floor.â
You looked up at him, a small genuine smile tugging at your lips. âI told you I wanted to try.â
His grip on your waist tightened just slightly. His thumb brushed once over the fabric of your gown, almost absentmindedly.
âDonât get comfortable,â he said, though there was less bite in his tone than usual. âThis doesnât mean I trust you yet.â
âI know,â you replied softly. âBut thank you for giving me the chance anyway.â
Sukuna didnât answer. But he also didnât let go of you when the song ended. Instead, he kept his hand on your lower back as he guided you off the floor, staying closer than strictly necessary.
A short while later, a group of older lords approached Sukuna. One of them â a tall man with silver hair and sharp features â gave a respectful bow.
âYour Grace, if we could steal a moment of your time? There are some matters regarding the northern border that require your input.â
Sukunaâs jaw tightened for a brief second. He glanced down at you, then back at the lords.
âFine,â he said curtly. âI wonât be long.â
Before he stepped away, he leaned in close to your ear, voice low. âStay here. Donât wander off.â
You nodded. His hand lingered on your waist for one extra second before he pulled away and followed the group toward a quieter side balcony for their discussion.
Suddenly, you were alone.
You stood near the edge of the dance floor, champagne glass in hand, trying to look more relaxed than you felt. The weight of curious stares hadnât faded. A few noblewomen still whispered behind their fans, and every so often someone would glance your way with open speculation.
A deep, smooth voice spoke from your left.
âDuchess, I donât believe weâve had the pleasure of a proper introduction tonight.â
You turned to find a tall, broad-shouldered man with dark hair and sharp green eyes watching you with a lazy, confident smile. He was dressed in deep emerald and black, a marquessâs insignia pinned neatly to his lapel.
âMarquess Toji Fushiguro,â he introduced himself with a respectful bow of his head. âIâve heard quite a bit about you over the years. Though I must say, seeing you here with the Duke tonight is⌠refreshing.â
His tone was warm and easy, without any obvious scheming edge. You felt yourself relax just a little.
âItâs a pleasure to meet you, Marquess,â you replied with a small smile. âIâve heard your name mentioned before. You handle the eastern trade routes, donât you?â
Tojiâs smile widened, looking genuinely pleased that you knew. âI do. Though Iâm surprised youâre familiar with such dull matters. Most duchesses prefer to stay far away from trade talk.â
The conversation flowed surprisingly well. He was charming in a straightforward, slightly roguish way â asking light questions about the northern estates, commenting on the music, and even making a dry joke about how stiff most balls tended to be. You found yourself smiling more naturally, the tension in your shoulders easing as you chatted. For the first time that evening, talking to someone felt⌠comfortable.
Toji tilted his head slightly, green eyes glinting with curiosity. âIf I may be bold, Duchess â you seem different tonight than what the rumors suggested. Happier, perhaps?â
You were about to respond when a large, familiar hand suddenly slid around your waist from behind, fingers gripping your hip with clear possessiveness. A warm, solid body pressed against your back, and you didnât need to turn to know who it was.
Sukuna.
His grip tightened, pulling you back against his chest in one smooth motion. The heat of his body seeped through the silk of your gown, and his thumb brushed slowly over your hip bone â a blatant, territorial claim.
Tojiâs easy smile faltered for half a second before he recovered, inclining his head respectfully.
âDuke Sukuna,â he greeted calmly. âI was just keeping your wife company while you were occupied.â
Sukunaâs voice was low and dangerous, rumbling against your back. âI can see that.â His hand stayed firmly on your hip, fingers pressing in just enough to make a point. âThough I donât recall asking anyone to entertain my duchess.â
You felt the tension rolling off him in waves. His other arm came around your other side, almost caging you against him in front of the entire hall.
Toji raised an eyebrow, still perfectly civil. âNo offense meant, Your Grace. It was an honor speaking with the Duchess.â
Sukuna didnât reply immediately. Instead, he leaned down, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke loud enough for Toji to hear.
âWeâre leaving this conversation,â he said flatly. Then, louder, âCome, wife.â
Sukuna didnât stop walking until he had guided you into a quieter corner of the grand hall, partially shielded by a tall marble pillar and heavy crimson velvet drapes. The music and chatter of the ball felt distant now, muffled. His hand never left your hip. If anything, his grip tightened, fingers digging possessively into the silk of your gown as though he needed the contact to ground himself.
He turned you to face him with surprising care, then backed you gently but firmly against the cool marble pillar. One large hand stayed locked on your waist while the other came up to brace beside your head, effectively caging you in. His body heat enveloped you instantly â warm, solid, and overwhelming. The faint scent of smoke, leather, and something darker clung to him, making your pulse stutter.
âYou seemed to be enjoying yourself,â he said, voice low and rough, almost a growl. His crimson eyes burned down into yours with unmistakable intensity. âLaughing with him like the two of you were old friends. Did you forget youâre here with me tonight?â
The jealousy in his tone was unmistakable â sharp, dark, and barely leashed.
You kept your voice calm, though your heart was racing. âWe were only talking. He was civil. Nothing more.â
Sukunaâs jaw clenched visibly. His thumb began to trace slow, deliberate circles over the curve of your hip through the thin silk, a possessive caress that sent heat rushing across your skin.
âCivil,â he repeated, the word laced with pure disdain. âI saw the way he looked at you. The way he smiled at you.â
He leaned in closer, his breath warm against the shell of your ear, voice dropping into something dangerously intimate. âAnd here I thought you were trying to mend our relationship. Yet the second I turn my back, youâre chatting and smiling with another man like it means nothing.â
His grip on your waist tightened, pulling you flush against the hard wall of his chest. You could feel the tension coiled in every muscle, the barely restrained frustration rolling off him in waves. One of his fingers slipped just beneath the edge of your gown, brushing bare skin at your hip â a deliberate, claiming touch.
âI donât like sharing whatâs mine,â he growled softly, lips brushing your ear. âEspecially not with bastards like Toji Fushiguro.â
You swallowed hard, breath shallow. âI wasnât trying to make you jealous. I was just being polite while you were busy.â
Sukuna let out a low, dangerous sound in the back of his throat â half a scoff, half a laugh. His free hand moved to your jaw, tilting your face up so you had no choice but to meet his burning crimson gaze.
âPolite,â he murmured, thumb stroking slowly along your jawline. âYouâre lucky I didnât drag you out of here the moment I saw his hand move toward you.â
His eyes dropped to your lips for a long, heavy second. The air between you felt charged, electric, like the tension might snap at any moment. For a heartbeat you thought he might kiss you right there â hard, claiming, in full view of everyone still watching from across the hall.
Instead, he leaned in until his lips ghosted against your ear again.
âNext time someone approaches you while Iâm gone,â he said, voice dark and velvet-rough, âyou tell them you belong to me. Clearly. Because if I have to remind them myself⌠I wonât be nearly as polite.â
His fingers flexed on your hip in one final, possessive squeeze â a silent promise â before he slowly stepped back. His hand remained at the small of your back, heavy and unrelenting.
The music swelled again around you.
Sukunaâs expression smoothed into something cooler and more composed for the public eye, but the heat in his eyes stayed locked on you.
âCome,â he said, voice still low. âWeâre dancing again. And this time, youâre not leaving my side for the rest of the night.â
Sukuna led you back onto the dance floor without another word, his hand firm on your waist, pulling you closer than strictly proper for a public setting. The orchestra had shifted into a slower, more intimate melody â strings and soft piano weaving through the air. Couples swirled around you, but you barely noticed them. All you could focus on was the heat of Sukunaâs body pressed against yours, the way his fingers splayed possessively across your lower back, and the unmistakable tension radiating from him.
He moved with controlled grace, guiding you effortlessly through the steps. Your bodies were flush together, chest to chest, his thigh occasionally brushing yours as you turned. Every point of contact felt electric.
âYouâre quiet now,â he murmured, voice low enough that only you could hear. His crimson eyes locked onto yours, dark and intense. âWhat happened to all that polite conversation you were having with the marquess?â
You tilted your head slightly to meet his gaze. âYou told me not to leave your side. Iâm listening.â
A low sound rumbled in his chest â not quite a laugh. His hand slid lower on your back, fingers pressing in just enough to make your breath hitch.
âGood girl,â he said softly, almost mockingly, though the heat in his eyes was anything but. âKeep listening. I donât want to see you smiling at anyone else like that tonight.â
The jealousy was still there, simmering just beneath the surface. You could feel it in the way he held you â tighter than necessary, almost like he was daring anyone to try approaching you again.
As you turned under his arm and came back into his embrace, he leaned down, lips brushing the shell of your ear.
âHe thought he had a chance,â he continued, voice rough. âLike he didnât know exactly who you belong to.â His fingers flexed against your waist. âMaybe I need to make it clearer.â
Your heart hammered against your ribs. Being this close to him â surrounded by the swirl of music and watching eyes â made everything feel heightened. The scent of him, the solid strength of his body, the barely restrained possessiveness in every touch.
âSukunaâŚâ you started softly.
He cut you off by pulling you even closer, until there was almost no space left between you. His breath was warm against your temple.
âYou wanted to mend things,â he reminded you, tone dark. âThen stop giving other men reasons to think they can talk to my wife like that. Smile at me. Stay close to me.â
The song began to slow, but Sukuna didnât release you. He kept you locked in his arms even as other couples started drifting apart. His hand slid up your back, fingers tracing your spine through the silk, a silent claim in front of the entire hall.
When the music finally faded, he didnât let go right away. He stared down at you, crimson eyes heavy with something dangerous and hungry.
âWeâre leaving,â he said abruptly, voice low. âIâve had enough of these people watching us.â
He didnât wait for your agreement. His hand stayed firmly at the small of your back as he guided you through the crowd toward the exit. Nobles parted for him instinctively, eyes wide at the sight of the Duke and Duchess leaving together so early â and so obviously entangled.
The cool night air hit you the moment you stepped outside. Sukuna kept you close as you waited for the carriage, his arm wrapped around your waist like he still wasnât ready to stop touching you.
Once inside the carriage, he sat beside you instead of across from you. The door had barely closed before his hand was back on your thigh, gripping possessively through the fabric of your gown.
The carriage started moving, carrying you both back toward the estate through the dark roads. Sukunaâs hand remained on your thigh the entire ride, heavy and warm â a silent reminder of exactly who you belonged to.
By the time it finally rolled to a stop in front of the castle, the moon hung high in the sky. The journey had been quiet, thick with lingering tension. Sukuna hadnât spoken a word, but his grip on your thigh never loosened.
When the footman opened the door, Sukuna stepped out first and offered you his hand. You took it, letting him help you down onto the stone steps. The cool night air felt refreshing after the stuffy ballroom, but it did little to calm the nerves fluttering in your stomach.
He walked you inside, his hand resting possessively at the small of your back the whole way through the dimly lit halls. Servants bowed and quickly disappeared when they saw you both. The castle felt unusually still.
When you reached the point where the corridors split â one leading to his private wing, the other to yours â Sukuna stopped. He turned to face you, his expression unreadable in the low torchlight.
âYou did well tonight,â he admitted grudgingly, staring at you for a long moment before glancing away. âBut if I see him â or anyone else â near you again like thatâŚâ
He didnât finish the sentence. He didnât need to.
Sukuna gave a short nod, almost like he was dismissing you. âGoodnight.â
He turned to leave, heading toward his own chambers.
You stood there for a second, heart pounding, before the words slipped out â soft, shy, and a little nervous.
âWaitâŚâ
Sukuna paused, looking back at you over his shoulder.
You swallowed, cheeks warming as you forced yourself to speak. âYou know⌠we canât really fix things as a couple if we keep sleeping separately"
The words hung in the air between you. They sounded bolder than you felt.
Sukuna went completely still. For several long seconds he simply stared at you, crimson eyes narrowing slightly as if he couldnât quite believe what heâd just heard. The silence stretched, thick and heavy.
Then, slowly, the corner of his mouth twitched â not quite a smile, but something darker, more dangerous.
âIs that so?â he said, voice low and rough. He took one step back toward you, then another, until he was standing close again. âYouâre asking to sleep in my bed now?â
He tilted his head, studying your face like he was trying to find the trick in your words. His hand came up, fingers lightly brushing your jaw as he looked down at you.
âCareful, wife,â he murmured, thumb tracing your lower lip. âYou keep pushing like this⌠I might start thinking you actually mean it.â
His gaze dropped to your mouth for a long second before returning to your eyes. The tension between you crackled again, even stronger than it had been at the ball.
Sukuna didnât move away. He waited, watching you closely, as if daring you to take it back⌠or push further.
The silence stretched, heavy and charged. His thumb was still resting against your lower lip, warm and rough, while his crimson eyes searched your face for any sign of deception. You could practically feel the suspicion rolling off him in waves.
Finally, he let out a slow breath, almost a scoff.
ââŚFine,â he said, voice low and guarded. âIf thatâs what you want.â
He stepped back slightly, but his hand stayed on your waist, fingers still gripping you with quiet possessiveness. His expression remained cold, cautious, like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.
âDonât expect this to mean anything,â he added, tone flat. âIâm still not convinced youâve changed. But if youâre so determined to play the part of a real wife⌠then come.â
He turned and started walking down the corridor toward his private wing, keeping his hand on the small of your back to guide you along with him. The touch was firm â not gentle, but not forceful either. It felt like both an invitation and a test.
The halls were quiet at this hour, lit only by flickering torches. Every step echoed softly. Sukuna didnât speak again until you reached the heavy wooden doors to his chambers. He pushed them open without hesitation and stepped inside, holding the door for you.
His rooms were large and unmistakably his â dark wood furniture, a massive bed with black silk sheets, a low fire burning in the hearth, weapons and scrolls neatly arranged on shelves. It smelled faintly of smoke and leather.
Sukuna closed the door behind you with a heavy click. He leaned against it for a moment, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching you with that same calculating stare.
âYou wanted this,â he said quietly, almost like he was reminding both of you. âSo here we are.â
He pushed off the door and walked further into the room, loosening the ties on his formal tunic as he went. The movement was casual, but you could feel the tension still radiating from him.
âGet comfortable,â he told you, glancing back at you over his shoulder. His voice was low, almost seductive, but the suspicion never fully left his eyes.
He didnât say anything else. He simply waited, watching to see what you would do now that you were truly alone with him in his space.
You stood there for a moment, suddenly very aware of how large his chambers felt and how small you felt inside them. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting warm light across the dark wood and black silk sheets. The air smelled like him â smoke, leather, and something faintly metallic.
You swallowed and moved toward the side of the room where a large wardrobe stood. One of the maids had already brought a few of your things here earlier, as if the servants had anticipated this. You picked out a simple black silk nightgown and hesitated.
Sukuna had turned away slightly, pulling off his formal tunic and tossing it over the back of a chair. The movement revealed the strong lines of his back and the black tattoos swirling across his skin. He didnât look at you, but you could tell he was still aware of every move you made.
You changed quickly behind the privacy screen in the corner, the silk cool against your skin. When you stepped out, Sukuna was already sitting on the edge of the massive bed, wearing only loose black pants. His pink hair was untied now, falling messily around his face. He looked up when you approached.
For a long second he just stared.
Then he let out a slow breath and patted the space beside him.
âCome here,â he said, voice low.
You walked over and climbed onto the bed. The mattress dipped under your weight. Sukuna watched you the entire time, suspicion still clear in his crimson eyes even as he pulled the covers back for you.
You slipped under the sheets, lying on your back. The silk felt cool and smooth. Sukuna stayed sitting for another moment, then finally lay down beside you. The bed was large, but he took up so much space that you could feel the heat radiating from his body.
He turned onto his side, facing you. One arm rested above his head while the other lay between you, close enough that his fingers almost brushed your arm.
The silence was heavy.
âYouâre really here,â he muttered, almost to himself. His gaze traced your face, still guarded. âIn my bed.â
He reached out slowly and brushed a strand of hair away from your cheek. The touch was surprisingly gentle, but his eyes remained cold and watchful.
âDonât make me regret this,â he said quietly. âIf this is another game⌠I wonât be kind about it.â
Then he shifted closer. Not enough to touch fully, but close enough that you could feel his breath against your skin. He didnât pull you into his arms. He simply laid there, watching you like he was waiting for you to prove something â or reveal your true intentions.
The fire crackled softly in the background. The weight of his presence beside you made it hard to relax, but you stayed there, heart beating steadily.
Sukunaâs voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke again.
âSleep, wife. Weâll see how long this little performance of yours lasts.â
He didnât close his eyes right away. He kept watching you in the dim firelight, guarded, suspicious⌠and just a little intrigued.
Morning light filtered softly through the heavy curtains, pale and hazy, casting long golden stripes across the dark wooden floor. You woke slowly, cocooned in warmth that felt both foreign and strangely comforting. Sukunaâs arm was draped heavily over your waist, his broad chest pressed against your back, one leg loosely tangled with yours beneath the black silk sheets. His breathing was deep and steady, the faint rise and fall of his chest brushing against you with every inhale.
For a long moment you didnât move. This was the first time youâd ever woken up beside him â sharing the same bed, the same space, the same air. Your heart beat a little too fast as the reality settled in. The Duke of the North was holding you in his sleep, even if it was only out of habit or unconscious possession.
Sukuna stirred a few minutes later. His arm tightened around your waist for a brief second, pulling you closer on instinct, before his body went still. You felt the exact moment consciousness returned to him â the subtle shift in his breathing, the way his muscles tensed ever so slightly against your back.
He didnât pull away immediately.
âYouâre still here,â he said quietly, voice low and rough with sleep. There was a hint of genuine surprise beneath the words. âFigured youâd sneak back to your own room before I woke up.â
You turned your head slightly on the pillow to look at him. His crimson eyes were half-lidded, messy pink hair falling across his forehead. Up close like this, without the usual cold mask, he looked almost human â though the sharp suspicion in his gaze reminded you he was anything but.
âI told you I wanted this,â you replied softly.
Sukuna let out a slow breath, almost a huff. He propped himself up on one elbow, looking down at you properly. His hand stayed on your waist, thumb brushing slow, absentminded circles over the silk of your nightgown. The touch was light, but you could feel the weight of his attention â guarded, calculating, searching for any crack in your resolve.
He watched you for a long, heavy moment, suspicion still clear in his expression. The silence between you felt intimate and fragile at the same time. His fingers flexed once against your waist before relaxing again.
âDonât get too used to this,â he said eventually, tone flat but not cruel. âOne night doesnât fix anything. One night doesnât make me trust you.â
Then, almost like he couldnât help himself, he added more quietly, âBut⌠you can stay for breakfast if you want.â
Sukuna rolled away and got out of bed, stretching his powerful arms above his head. The morning light traced every line of muscle and the intricate black tattoos that covered his shoulders, chest, and back. He moved with the casual confidence of someone completely at ease in his own space, yet you could still feel the tension humming beneath his skin.
God, heâs even hotter in person⌠no wonder I was obsessed.
He grabbed a fresh tunic but didnât put it on. Instead, he leaned against the wardrobe, watching you in his sheets with that dark, cautious gaze. The fire had burned low, leaving the room quiet and heavy with unspoken tension.
Sukuna tilted his head slightly. âWell?â he asked, voice still rough from sleep. âAre you going to lie there all morning?â
You didnât make him wait long.
You slipped out of bed, the black silk nightgown clinging lightly to your skin as you moved. The morning air in the chamber felt cooler than the warmth of the sheets youâd just left. Sukuna watched you the entire time from where he leaned against the wardrobe, arms crossed over his broad chest, expression unreadable but intense.
âBreakfast will be brought here,â he said simply, voice still rough from sleep. âNo need to go to the main hall today.â
A short while later, servants arrived with silver trays. They moved quickly and quietly, setting the table near the tall windows with practiced care â a pot of strong black tea, warm crusty bread, thick slices of roasted meat, fresh berries, and a small dish of honey. The scent of the food filled the room, warm and savory. They kept their eyes lowered, clearly unsettled by the sight of you in the Dukeâs private chambers wearing only a nightgown and robe, but they left without a single word.
Sukuna sat down first. You took the seat across from him.
The morning light streamed in through the tall windows, casting a soft golden glow across the table and highlighting the sharp angles of his face. It traced the black tattoos visible at the open collar of his tunic and the faint scars on his hands as he picked up his knife. For several long minutes, the only sounds were the quiet clink of silverware and the distant crackle from the hearth.
Finally, Sukuna set his knife down with a quiet click and leaned back in his chair, crimson eyes locking onto you with that familiar guarded intensity.
âSo,â he said, voice low and guarded, âwhat made you change?â
You looked up from your plate, heart skipping a beat. Just died and woke up in the body of the woman youâre supposed to kill. No big deal.
There was no point in holding back anymore.Â
âI like you,â you said simply, meeting his gaze. âIâve liked you for a long time.â
Sukuna stared at you for a long, heavy beat. Then he let out a short, bitter laugh that didnât reach his eyes.
âBullshit.â
The word landed blunt and cold. He leaned forward, elbows on the table, watching you with sharp suspicion.
âYou expect me to believe that? After months of silence, after treating me like I was beneath you, after making sure everyone knew how much you despised this marriage⌠you suddenly like me?â His voice dripped with disbelief. âTry again.â
You didnât look away. Your voice stayed quiet but steady.
âNo, really,â you said. âI do. I like you. Thatâs why Iâm trying so hard.â
Sukunaâs eyes narrowed. He studied your face like he was searching for the lie, the manipulation, the trick. The silence stretched between you, thick and tense. His fingers tapped once against the edge of the table before he leaned back again, the corner of his mouth curving into a slow, dangerous smirk.
âOkay, little liar,â he murmured, voice low and rough. âThen prove it to me.â
You blinked, heat rising to your cheeks.
âProve it to youâŚ?â you repeated softly, the words coming out a little breathless.
Sukunaâs smirk deepened, but his eyes stayed sharp and watchful. He leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table, closing some of the distance between you.
âYes,â he said, voice dropping lower, almost velvet-smooth. âProve it. You say you like me. You say you want to fix this marriage. So show me.â
His gaze drifted slowly down to your mouth, then back up to your eyes. The air between you felt heavier now, warmer. He reached across the table and brushed his fingers lightly against the back of your hand, the touch deceptively gentle.
âYouâre in my chambers. In my bed,â he continued, thumb tracing a slow line over your knuckles. âIf youâre actually serious⌠then stop hiding behind pretty words and prove it.â
His touch lingered, possessive but controlled, sending a slow shiver up your arm. He didnât pull away. Instead, he watched your reaction closely, crimson eyes dark with suspicion and something much hotter underneath.
âProve it, wife,â he said again, voice low and seductive. âIâm right here. Show me how much you like me.â
The breakfast table suddenly felt far too small. The tension had shifted â still laced with his suspicion, but now crackling with slow, deliberate heat as he waited for you to make the next move.
Your pulse thundered under his thumb. You could feel the weight of his stare, the way his crimson eyes darkened as they traced your face, your lips, the line of your throat. He wasnât touching you anywhere else, but it still felt like he had you pinned.
You swallowed, heat blooming across your cheeks and down your neck.
ââŚHow?â you asked, voice quieter than you intended. âHow do you want me to prove it?â
Sukunaâs smirk deepened, slow and dangerous. He leaned in a little closer across the table, his thumb still stroking lazy circles over your knuckles.
âThatâs the fun part,â he murmured. âYou figure it out. Youâre the one claiming you like me. So show me what that looks like.â
His free hand moved, reaching across to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture was almost gentle, but his fingers lingered at the side of your neck, tracing lightly down the column of your throat before pulling away.
âYou can start by coming here,â he said, voice low and commanding. He pushed his chair back slightly and patted his thigh once. âDonât make me ask twice.â
Your breath caught. Heart racing, you stood up slowly and rounded the table. The moment you were close enough, Sukunaâs hand caught your wrist and pulled you down onto his lap. He settled you sideways across his thighs, one arm wrapping securely around your waist while the other rested on your leg, fingers splayed possessively over your thigh.
Up close like this, you could feel the heat of his body, the solid strength of his chest against your side, the way his breath brushed your temple.
âBetter,â he said, voice rough. His hand slid slowly up your thigh, stopping just below the hem of your nightgown. âNow⌠show me.â
He tilted his head, lips hovering near your jaw.
âKiss me,â he ordered softly. âLike you mean it. Like you actually want your husband.â
His crimson eyes were locked on yours, still guarded, still waiting for the lie to slip through. But beneath the suspicion, there was clear hunger â dark and patient, daring you to close the distance.
Sukunaâs fingers flexed on your thigh, a silent reminder of his patience running thin.
âWell, wife?â he murmured, voice velvet-rough against your skin. âIâm waiting.â
You didnât hesitate any longer.
Leaning in, you pressed your lips to his. The kiss started soft â tentative on your end, testing. Sukuna stayed still for half a second, as if surprised youâd actually done it.
Then he took control.
His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you harder against his mouth. The kiss deepened instantly, turning hungry and demanding. His tongue swept past your lips, claiming your mouth with a low growl that vibrated against you. He tasted like black tea and heat, and the way he kissed you was nothing short of possessive â like he was trying to erase every other man who had ever looked at you.
You gasped into his mouth. Sukuna used the opening to tilt your head and kiss you deeper, tongue stroking yours with slow, filthy intent. His other hand gripped your thigh tighter, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he pulled you more firmly onto his lap until you were straddling him.
âBetter,â he rasped against your lips when he finally pulled back just enough to breathe. His crimson eyes were dark, pupils blown wide. âBut not enough.â
He kissed you again, harder this time. One hand slipped under the hem of your nightgown, palm sliding up your bare thigh, pushing the silk higher and higher until his fingers brushed the edge of your underwear. He didnât go further yet â just teased, stroking the sensitive skin there while his mouth moved to your jaw, then down to your neck.
âYou say you like me,â he growled against your throat, teeth grazing your pulse point. âThen prove how much.â
He sucked on your skin, hard enough to leave a mark, and you couldnât stop the soft moan that escaped you. Sukunaâs grip on your thigh tightened in response, and you felt him growing hard beneath you, the thick length pressing against your core through his pants.
Your hands moved on instinct, sliding up his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his tunic. He made a low, approving sound and rocked his hips up once, grinding against you deliberately.
âTouch me,â he ordered, voice rough. âIf youâre serious, then fucking touch me.â
You obeyed, sliding your hands under his tunic, palms running over the hard planes of his stomach and the tattoos that covered his skin. His muscles tensed under your touch. Sukuna rewarded you by biting down on your neck again, then soothing the spot with his tongue.
He pulled back just enough to look at you, breathing heavy, eyes burning.
âKeep going,â he said, voice dark and commanding. His hands gripping your ass firmly as he pulled you down harder against his growing erection. âShow me exactly how much you want your husband.â
His hips rolled up deliberately, grinding the thick ridge of his cock against your clit in slow, filthy circles. The friction was maddening, heat building fast between you.
You moaned into his mouth. The sound seemed to snap something in him.
He growled low in his throat and rocked you harder against him. âFuck,â he rasped against your lips, breath hot. âYouâre already so wet for me.â
One large hand slipped further under your nightgown, calloused palm dragging up your bare thigh until his fingers found the soaked fabric of your panties. He groaned at the feeling, pressing two thick fingers against your clothed slit and rubbing firmly, spreading your wetness.
âSo fucking wet,â he muttered, voice dark and rough. âAll this from just sitting on my lap?â
He pushed your panties aside with impatient fingers and dragged two thick digits slowly through your slick folds. The first direct touch made your hips jerk sharply. Pleasure shot through you like lightning â hot, electric, and overwhelming. You were already soaked, embarrassingly wet, and Sukuna could feel it.
He chuckled darkly against your throat, the low vibration sending shivers racing down your spine as he kissed and bit along your neck, marking you with teeth and tongue.
âYouâre dripping down my fingers, wife,â he growled, voice rough and filthy. âThis greedy little cunt is making such a mess already.â
He pushed one thick finger inside you slowly, stretching your tight walls. Your inner muscles clenched hard around the intrusion, hot and silky. The feeling of being filled by him â even just one finger â made your breath hitch. He added a second finger almost immediately, scissoring them lazily while his thumb found your swollen clit and rubbed tight, relentless circles.
The wet, obscene sounds of his fingers pumping into your soaked pussy filled the quiet morning room â lewd squelching noises that would have made you blush if you werenât already trembling with pleasure. Your arousal coated his hand, dripping down his wrist and onto his lap as he worked you open with practiced, unhurried strokes.
You whimpered, hands fisting tightly in the front of his tunic. Sukunaâs free hand yanked the neckline of your nightgown down roughly, exposing your breasts to the cool air. He leaned in and sucked one sensitive nipple into his mouth, tongue flicking roughly over the peak before his teeth grazed it. The sharp sting mixed with pleasure made your back arch, pushing your chest closer to his hungry mouth.
âSo fucking sensitive,â he murmured against your skin, voice muffled as he switched to the other nipple, sucking harder. âLook at you. Falling apart just from my fingers like a desperate little whore.â
He curled his fingers inside you, stroking that perfect spot with devastating accuracy while his thumb pressed firmer circles on your clit. Your hips rocked desperately against his hand, chasing every thrust, every stroke. The wet sounds grew louder, filthier, echoing obscenely in the quiet chamber.
Sukuna pulled back just enough to watch your face, his crimson eyes dark with lust and that ever-present edge of suspicion.
âCum for me,â he ordered, voice low and rough. âLet me feel how much this supposed âliking meâ makes this tight little pussy squeeze around my fingers.â
His fingers curled harder, stroking that sensitive spot relentlessly while his thumb worked your clit faster. The pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in your core, burning hotter with every thrust, every filthy word.
It snapped.
You came hard with a broken moan, walls clenching violently around his thick fingers. Your thighs shook uncontrollably as slick gushed over his hand, soaking his palm and dripping down his wrist. Pleasure crashed through you in waves, leaving you gasping and trembling.
Sukuna groaned deeply at the feeling, still pumping his fingers slowly through your spasms, drawing out every last pulse until you were shaking and oversensitive, whimpering softly.
He finally pulled his fingers free, glistening with your release. Without breaking eye contact, he brought them to his mouth and licked them clean, tongue dragging slowly and deliberately over his skin, savoring your taste.
âSweet,â he murmured, voice husky and dark. His eyes never left yours.
He lifted you effortlessly and stood, carrying you toward the massive bed. He laid you down on the black silk sheets, hovering over you with that same dark, hungry look.
âTake the nightgown off,â he commanded, already pulling his own tunic over his head, revealing the full expanse of his tattooed, muscled torso. âI want to see all of you.â
His hands moved to his pants, loosening them as he watched you, eyes burning with lust and that ever-present edge of suspicion.
âProve how much you actually want me, wife.â
You sat up on the bed, heart hammering against your ribs. Under his burning gaze, you reached for the hem of your nightgown and pulled it up and over your head, letting the silk fall to the floor. The cool air of the chamber brushed over your bare skin, making your nipples tighten instantly.
Sukunaâs eyes raked slowly over your naked body â from your flushed face, down the curve of your breasts, your stomach, and the glistening wetness already coating your inner thighs. He let out a low, rough sound deep in his chest, almost a growl.
âFuck⌠look at you,â he muttered, voice thick. âSo small. So fucking pretty.â
He shoved his pants the rest of the way down his hips and kicked them aside. His cock sprang free, heavy and thick, the veined shaft curving slightly upward. It was meaty â obscenely so â the girth making your mouth go dry. The flushed head was already leaking, a bead of precum glistening at the tip. Even fully hard, it looked almost too big, too heavy, the weight of it making it hang thick and full between his powerful thighs.
You couldnât help the soft, shaky breath that escaped you.
Sukuna noticed. His smirk was dark and satisfied as he crawled onto the bed, the mattress dipping deeply under his much larger frame. He settled between your spread thighs, his broad shoulders forcing your legs wider apart. The size difference hit you all over again â he was so much bigger than you, his body completely eclipsing yours as he hovered above you.
He gripped his thick cock in one large hand and dragged the heavy head through your soaked folds, coating himself in your wetness. The blunt, meaty tip nudged against your entrance, pressing just enough to tease the stretch.
âYouâre tiny compared to me,â he rasped, voice low and rough. âGonna feel every inch when I split you open.â
He pushed forward slowly.
The thick head of his cock breached you, stretching your entrance with a slow, burning pressure. You gasped sharply at the sheer girth â he was so thick that your walls had to part around him, fluttering and clenching as he sank deeper. The heavy, meaty weight of his cock filled you inch by inch, dragging against every sensitive ridge inside you until you were full, so full, your back arching off the bed with a broken moan.
Sukuna groaned deeply, the sound vibrating through his chest as he bottomed out, hips flush against yours. His balls rested heavy and warm against you.
âShit,â he breathed against your neck, voice strained. âSo fucking tight⌠this little pussy is sucking me in like it was made for me.â
He stayed buried deep for a moment, letting you adjust to the overwhelming stretch, the way his thick cock throbbed inside you, hot and heavy. Then he started moving â slow, deep rolls of his hips that dragged his meaty length along your walls with every thrust. The wet, obscene sound of him sliding in and out of your soaked cunt filled the room, slick and filthy.
You whimpered, nails digging into his broad shoulders. âSukuna⌠youâre so bigââ
He growled at your words, hips snapping harder, driving his thick cock deeper. The drag was exquisite, every vein and ridge rubbing against your most sensitive spots. His size made you feel impossibly full, stretched wide around his girth, the pressure bordering on too much but so, so good.
âTake it,â he rasped, voice dark and possessive. âTake every fucking inch like the good little wife youâre trying to be.â
He leaned down and captured your mouth in a messy, hungry kiss, tongue fucking your mouth in time with his deep thrusts. His heavy balls slapped against you with every powerful stroke, the wet sounds growing louder as your arousal dripped down his shaft and soaked the sheets beneath you.
You moaned into his mouth, legs wrapping tighter around his waist, heels digging into his back. The size difference made everything more intense â his broad chest crushing your breasts, his muscular thighs spreading you wide, his massive frame completely dominating yours as he fucked you into the mattress.
Sukuna pulled back just enough to look at you, breathing hard, eyes dark with lust and that lingering edge of suspicion.
âTell me again,â he growled, hips grinding deep, the thick head of his cock pressing against that perfect spot inside you. âTell me how much you like your husbandâs cock while Iâm ruining this tight little pussy.â
You could barely think through the overwhelming fullness. His cock was so thick it felt like he was splitting you open with every slow, deliberate thrust. The heavy drag of his veined shaft against your walls made your toes curl, pleasure bordering on too much.
âI like it,â you gasped, voice breaking on a moan as he rolled his hips again, grinding the fat head against your g-spot. âI like your cock so muchâ fuck, Sukuna, youâre so deepâŚâ
A low, satisfied growl rumbled in his chest. He hooked one of your legs over his arm, spreading you wider, and drove into you harder. The new angle made his thick cock hit even deeper, the heavy weight of his balls slapping wetly against your ass with every powerful thrust. Your juices coated his shaft, dripping down to soak the sheets beneath you, the lewd squelching sounds echoing obscenely in the quiet room.
âSo fucking tight,â he groaned, voice rough and strained. âThis greedy little cunt is sucking me in like it doesnât want to let go.â
He leaned down, capturing your mouth in a messy, dominating kiss. His tongue fucked into your mouth in time with his cock, deep and filthy, while his hips snapped forward harder. The sheer size difference made everything more intense â his broad, muscled body completely covering yours, his weight pressing you down into the mattress as he fucked you with long, punishing strokes.
You whimpered into his mouth, nails raking down his back, leaving red lines across his tattooed skin. Sukuna hissed at the sting and rewarded you by pounding into you even harder, the thick head of his cock bullying that sensitive spot inside you over and over.
âAgain,â he demanded against your lips, breath hot and ragged. âTell me who this pussy belongs to.â
âYou,â you moaned, legs shaking as another wave of pleasure crashed through you. âIt belongs to youâ only youââ
âGood girl.â
He sat back on his heels, pulling your hips up with him so your lower back was off the bed. The new angle let him drive even deeper, his thick cock stretching you wide with every brutal thrust. His thumb found your swollen clit again, rubbing tight, firm circles while he fucked you senseless.
The wet slap of skin against skin mixed with your broken moans and his low grunts. Your breasts bounced with every powerful snap of his hips, nipples tight and aching. Sukunaâs gaze was locked between your legs, watching hungrily as his thick cock disappeared into your soaked pussy again and again, stretching you obscenely around his girth.
âLook at that,â he growled, voice dark. âTaking every inch like you were made for me. So fucking pretty when youâre stuffed full of my cock.â
The pleasure coiled tighter and tighter in your core, burning hotter with every deep thrust, every swipe of his thumb on your clit. Your thighs trembled violently in his grip.
âSukunaâ Iâm gonnaâ!â
âCum,â he ordered, hips slamming into you harder. âCum on your husbandâs cock like the desperate little wife you are.â
It hit you like a wave. You came hard with a broken cry, walls clenching violently around his thick length, pulsing and fluttering as slick gushed around him. Your whole body shook, back arching sharply as pleasure tore through you.
Sukuna groaned deeply at the feeling, hips stuttering. âFuckâ thatâs it. Milk my cock.â
He fucked you through your orgasm, prolonging it until you were whimpering and oversensitive. Then, with a low, guttural groan, he buried himself to the hilt and came hard, thick ropes of hot cum flooding deep inside you. He kept grinding his hips in slow circles, pushing his release even deeper as he emptied himself completely.
âWeâre not done,â he said quietly, a dangerous promise in his tone. âNot even close.â
Sukuna pulled out of you with a wet, filthy sound, your combined release dripping down your thighs. Before you could catch your breath, he flipped you onto your back and manhandled you like you weighed nothing. He sat on the edge of the bed, pulled you into his lap facing away from him, and hooked his powerful arms under your knees, folding you in a full nelson.
Your back pressed flush against his broad, tattooed chest. Your legs were spread obscenely wide, knees pushed up toward your shoulders by his strong arms. The position left you completely helpless â folded in half, pussy exposed and dripping, his thick cock sliding hot and heavy between your slick folds.
âFuck, look at you,â he growled right against your ear, voice feral. âSo small and folded up for me. Perfect little fucktoy.â
He thrust up hard, burying his massive cock back inside you in one brutal stroke. The new angle made him feel even thicker, even deeper. You cried out, the sound raw and broken as his meaty length stretched you wide open again, the fat head bullying against your cervix with every thrust.
Sukuna went feral.
He fucked you like an animal â hard, fast, and relentless. His hips snapped up with powerful force, slamming his thick cock into your soaked pussy over and over. The wet, obscene slap of skin against skin filled the room, mixed with the lewd squelching of your dripping cunt taking every inch. His heavy balls slapped against your ass with every brutal thrust, the impact jolting through your body.
You were cockdrunk almost immediately.
Your mind went hazy, eyes rolling back as pleasure overloaded your senses. All you could do was moan helplessly, body limp in his hold as he used you. His thick cock dragged against every sensitive spot inside you, the sheer girth stretching you so wide it bordered on pain, but the pleasure was so intense you couldnât think straight.
âS-Sukunaâ ahhâ too deepââ you slurred, voice broken and whiny.
He only fucked you harder, arms locked tight under your knees, keeping you folded and helpless as he pounded into you. His chest was slick with sweat against your back, his hot breath panting against your ear.
âTake it,â he snarled, voice feral and animalistic. âTake every fucking inch. This is what you wanted, isnât it? My cock ruining this tight little pussy.â
You could only moan incoherently, head lolling back against his shoulder. Drool slipped from the corner of your mouth as he fucked you senseless, his thick cock bullying your insides with every savage thrust. The wet sounds were filthy â your juices coating his shaft and dripping down his balls, soaking the sheets beneath you.
Sukuna suddenly pulled out, flipped you onto your stomach, and yanked your hips up so your ass was high in the air. He slammed back into you in one brutal thrust, fucking you in deep, punishing doggy style.
âFuckâ yes,â he groaned, voice wrecked. One large hand came down hard on your ass with a loud smack, the sting blooming hot across your skin. He did it again, harder, the sharp crack echoing as he pounded into you from behind.
Your face was pressed into the sheets, ass up, completely at his mercy as he railed you. His thick cock drove so deep you felt it in your stomach, the heavy drag of his veined shaft making your eyes roll back. He smacked your ass again, gripping the soft flesh hard as he used you.
âYouâre mine,â he growled, hips snapping forward relentlessly. âThis pussy is mine. Say it.â
You could barely speak, mind blank and cockdrunk, but you whimpered obediently between moans, âYours⌠itâs yoursââ
Sukuna snarled in satisfaction and fucked you even harder, the bed creaking violently under the force of his thrusts. His heavy balls slapped against your clit with every brutal stroke, pushing you closer and closer to the edge again.
He was relentless now â grunting low and animalistic, cursing under his breath as his hands gripped your hips hard enough to bruise. He claimed you with deep, punishing strokes, each one driving his thick cock so deep you felt it in your stomach.
âFuckâ this pussy is sucking me in so greedily,â he growled, voice wrecked and animalistic. One hand left your hip and came down hard on your ass again with a loud smack, the sharp sting blooming hot across your skin. He did it again, harder, gripping the soft, reddened flesh and spreading you wider as he railed you.
Your mind was completely melted. All you could do was moan and whimper into the sheets, drool slipping from the corner of your mouth as he pounded into you. His thick, meaty cock stretched you so wide it felt like he was reshaping you from the inside. Every deep, punishing thrust made the fat head kiss your cervix, sending sparks of overwhelming pleasure-pain shooting through your body.
âS-Sukunaâ too muchâ ahhâ!â you slurred, voice broken and whiny, barely coherent anymore.
He laughed darkly, low and breathless, and smacked your ass once more before gripping both cheeks and spreading you obscenely. He watched hungrily as his thick cock disappeared into your soaked, fluttering pussy again and again, your juices coating his shaft and dripping down his heavy balls.
âLook at this greedy little hole,â he rasped, hips snapping forward brutally. âTaking my fat cock so well. Youâre dripping everywhere, wife. Making such a fucking mess on my sheets.â
He leaned over you, chest pressed to your back, one arm wrapping around your waist to hold you in place while the other braced beside your head. The new angle let him drive even deeper, his heavy cock bullying that perfect spot inside you with every savage thrust. The wet, filthy plap plap plap of his hips slamming into your ass filled the room, mixed with your broken moans and his guttural grunts.
You were shaking, thighs trembling violently, another orgasm building fast. Your mind was blank â nothing but the overwhelming stretch, the heat, the relentless drag of his thick veined cock inside you.
Sukunaâs breath was hot against your ear. âYouâre mine,â he growled, teeth grazing your shoulder. âThis tight little cunt is mine. Say it while you cum on my cock again.â
You could barely form words, but you whimpered obediently between moans, voice slurred and cockdrunk. âYoursâ itâs yoursâ Sukunaâ pleaseâ!â
He fucked you harder, hips pistoning relentlessly, the heavy slap of his balls against your clit pushing you over the edge. You came with a shattered cry, walls clamping down around his thick length like a vice, pulsing and fluttering as another intense orgasm ripped through you. Slick gushed around his cock, soaking his thighs and the sheets beneath you.
Sukuna groaned loudly, the sound raw and feral. âGood fucking girlââ
He didnât stop. He fucked you through your orgasm with deep, stuttering thrusts, hips snapping erratically as he chased his own release. With a final, powerful drive, he buried himself to the hilt and came hard. Thick, hot ropes of cum flooded deep inside you, pulse after heavy pulse filling you until you felt impossibly full, the warmth spreading through your core. He kept grinding slowly, rolling his hips in lazy circles to push every drop deeper, making sure you took all of him.
You could feel it leaking out around his thick cock â warm, sticky, and messy â dripping down your thighs and soaking the sheets beneath you.
Sukuna stayed buried deep inside you for a long moment, his massive body pressing you firmly into the mattress. His chest heaved against your back, hot, ragged breaths fanning across the side of your neck. The scent of sweat, sex, and his skin filled the air with every shaky inhale. One of his hands stroked slowly up and down your side, almost possessively, while the other stayed gripping your hip, fingers digging in like he still wasnât ready to let go.
ââŚNot bad,â he muttered, voice hoarse and low against your ear. âFor a little liar.â
He finally pulled out slowly, inch by thick inch. A heavy trickle of his cum immediately leaked from your abused, fluttering pussy, warm and obscene as it ran down your inner thighs. Sukuna let out a low, satisfied hum at the sight before he rolled you onto your back and collapsed beside you.
Without a word, he pulled you against his chest, one strong arm wrapping around you possessively. His skin was hot and slightly damp with sweat, his heartbeat still racing steadily under your cheek as he held you close.
His fingers traced lazy patterns on your skin as he caught his breath.
But he didnât let go.
a\n: honestly didn't know how to end this but hope you enjoyed! likes and reblogs appreciated!!
All rights reserved Š 2026 seoyue. No part of my work may be copied, reposted, modified, translated, or claimed as your own on any platform.
âđŚšâËËË nanami fucking you after a long day with the kids!
between 7am drop offs and battles at bedtime, it seemed the blonde girl dad could never catch a break.
done up in his finest dress shirt, hair parted, nanami takes your little girl to school whilst sporting her glittery pink my little pony backpack on his shoulder. the bag barely fits on his forearm, corded muscle threatening to pop the seams, yet he rocks it like a champ.
your daughter skips, clicking her heels to see her new light up sneakers blink blink blink bright pink. it's a look you adore, heart swelling with pride and contentment every time you see it.
it's barely 7:00, yet you'd never be able to tell on his face. you can't see it on your daughter's, either, chubby cheeks smiling clumsy and wide.
mornings are your favorite part of the shared daily routine your little family has settled into. wake up, get cleaned up, head to school by 6:45, work, come back home, dinner and bedtime.
monotonous, sure, but you wouldn't trade that familiarity for the world.
today, your routine has been broken; baby yuji has a baseball game nearly an hour away. suffering in silence, your husband agrees to drive, ignoring that his joints are killing him.
of course, the little pink haired demon toddler scores the winning shot for his team. it's amazing to see your nephew smiling, jumping for joy, but the ache in nanami's back is becoming apparent.
he's not the man he once was; standing for god knows how many hours always ends up in back pain and migraines. chiseled jaw tightening, you can tell it's beginning to get the best of him.
"just a few more hours until bedtime," you remind, placing a hand on his shoulder. his hand meets yours, resting on top of it before giving it a tender kiss, matching wedding bands glinting in the sun.
"YUCK!" your daughters squeals. her and yuji make disgusted faces while they giggle, covering their chubby faces.
thy don't laugh much longer when it's time to get strapped into their car seats, preparing for a long car ride home.
finally, 7pm comes. by god's grace, your beloved baby sitter accepts to take the kids for an overnight stay. for 24 hours, it's just you and nanami.
completely alone. no responsibilities. not even an alarm to wake up to.
surprisingly, nanami cracks first.
"been waiting to taste you for weeks," he groans, lips already kiss bitten from an earlier makeout session.
it marks the fourth time in 12 hours he's run his lips against yours, temptation overwhelming as you embrace him.
the moomoo you were wearing, short and stained, has long since been discarded onto the floor. in nothing but underwear, you shiver against the sheets.
he takes notice immediately, moving to wrap his arms around you, body heat radiating into your core.
somehow, his clothes are still on, tie barely hanging ground his neck. you make quick work of them, nearly ripping the fabric straight from his body.
it doesn't take long for you to be entangled in the sheets, skin to skin, nanami's leaking head prodding at your entrance.
"please, let me inside." he groans it against the shell of your ear, hips shifting as he slides his length up and down your coated folds.
"put it in, kento," you murmur.
a sharp gasp leaves you. no matter how many times he fucks you, the initial stretch will always have you clenching. slowly, he rolls his hips, nestling his cock further inside.
he notices how your brow furrows, how your toes clench, even feels the slight twitch of your thighs. immediately, his thumb gets to rubbing your clit, easing the ache out. it doesn't hurt, never did (well, except for the first time, maybe) but it feels so good how attentive he is.
finally, he's seated fully inside you.
"mmm," you moan, already needy. it's been god knows how long since you got to fuck your husband, especially properly. occasional phone sex can't cut it anyore.
bracing himself, his arm cages you in, the other one tweaking your pert nipple. like always, his forehead goes to rest against yours, sweat glistening against it.
the drag of his cock inside of you is tantalizing, makes you moan into his mouth as loud as you want. "i've missed you so much, ken," you whimper, lips wobbling with need.
"me too, baby, me too." he kisses you firmly, open mouthed, sloppy and disheveled, yet it couldn't be more passionate. his pace quickens slightly, low slapping beginning to fill the room.
"oooh, just like that-fuck!" his eyes widen, trying to drink up your very being as he watches yours roll up. the dark blonde hair of his groin grinds into you, stimulates your clit without him having to try.
slutty moans, slapping and the most erotic of sounds fill the bedroom, bouncing off the walls. he loves how you move your legs up, spreading them wide so they bounce every time he thrusts up.
"yes!- god, fuck," he groans, no longer having to care that a curse escaped his lips. "you like being dirty for me, don't you?"
"mhm, mhmmm, yes ken!" his hand moves from your nipple to your face, cradling it up to meet his lips, face bent down.
too much blood is rushing to his cock, to his cheeks, to anywhere but his brain so he can think properly. his mind is filled with you, you, you.
gaze darkening, his whole aura shifts.
suddenly your legs are being hiked up even further, knees almost to your ears while he manhandles you. again, his hand moves, now tangling in your pretty hair, flat against the pillow. now you're looking straight forward, eyes focused on where his cock enters your soaking pussy.
his thrusts turn downright mean, harsh and unforgiving. he groans, voice cracking a little when you moan so loud the noise echoes.
"shiiit, darling." his baritone goes straight through your core, hitting so deep it might as well be a vibrator. the bed starts creaking, something it hasn't done since your daughter's been born. it shakes the foundations, floor threatening to break from the intense love being made on it.
he ignores how badly his back aches, how his knees are screaming to take a break. when his pretty darling is moaning so loud, creaming around his dick, why would he stop?
"k-ken, 'm gonna-" "i know you are. let it all out for me, okay?"
nanami almost screams when your orgasm tears through you, so strong it feels like he's the one coming. your vision goes white, as well as his, so overcome with pleasure it should be impossible.
also white is his cum, filling up your pulsing hole with ease. weeks of desperation show in the pumping, twitching release he gives you.
he falls onto the bed, golden tresses managing to frame his face perfectly. god, he always looks perfect.
your heart is still hammering in your chest, breath uneven, but you're beginning to come back to your senses.
"wow. you look tired," you tease. he rolls his eyes, turning his face away from you. the snort that escapes him isn't lost on you.
"fuck, we shouldn't have done that," you choke. slowly, you can feel the burn settling into your knees.
"but it was worth it, wasn't it? don't tell me you didn't enjoy it."
"you know i did."
sighing, he pulls you closer, pressing a small kiss to the top of your head.
"yes, i do. i'm sure the whole neighborhood does, too."
"i heard that, kento."
for now, it was you and the love of your life, wrapped together like thread, enjoying each others company.
soon, you would have to pick up your daughter and nephew. your chest was already aching a little at the thought of being away from them for so long. surely, your husband was too, muttering something about it right before he drifted off.
in a few hours, you'd be picking up your daughter, and maybe stopping by at the gas station beforehand. if you purchase a pregnancy test while there, so what?
and so what if it shows up positive, marking another baby on the way? you wouldn't have it any other way, and neither would nanami.
"always wanted to try for another girl," he mutters, green irises staring at the 2 bold, pink lines of the test.
masterlist | @orangethecarrotcoloredpaperred
a/n: my dadaman! but literally cuz he's a father. how do yall feel about the pregnancy ending? thought it would be a nice cherry on top.
you're lying back on the bed, sheets rumpled beneath as your body hums with anticipation. nanami positions himself between your spread thighs, his strong hands grab your hips, pulling you closer, the tip of his thick cock pressing against your cunt. he pushes in slowly, the stretch burning sweetly as your pussy yields to his girth, inch after inch filling you up. you gasp, clutching the pillows, your walls clenching around him instinctively.
"is it all in yet?" you whisper breathlessly, eyes wide as you look up to him, feeling so full already but yet craving more.
kento pauses, a low chuckle rumbling in his chest, while his gaze darkens with lust. he reaches for your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours before guiding your hand down between your bodies. gently but firmly, he wraps your palm around the base of his cockâthe part that's still exposed, hot and veined, throbbing against your skin. "not even close," he murmurs, voice husky, thrusting his hips just enough to slide another inch inside you, making you moan as your fingers feel the slick between your bodies.
your hand trembles around him, feeling the length that remains, the way it pulses with need. he holds your hand there, letting you stroke the exposed shaft while he rocks deeper, your pussy stretching further to accommodate him. the sensation of your own fingers brushing against your clit as you grab around him sends sparks straight through your core. nanami groans, his free hand pinning your wrist lightly, controlling the pace as he sinks in more.
after what feels like an eternity, his hips finally meet yours, his entire cock buried to the hilt inside you. he releases your hand, leaning down to claim your mouth in a searing kiss just as he starts to moveâpulling out halfway before slamming back in. you wrap your legs around his waist, urging him on, your pussy dripping around him with each thrust.
"been wanting to do this for so fucking long," he gasps as his hand slides up to pinch your nipple, rolling it between his fingers while the other braces beside your head. you arch into him, the coil in your stomach tightening as his cock drags through your most sensitive spots, hitting deep and hard. "feel that?" he growls against your lips. "all mine now."
fratboy!satoru and his pathetic crush on artmajor!reader || fluff! slightly ooc? *ŕłŕź
satoru gojoâs history with women looked a little something like this..Â
slept with: 47Â
dated: 0Â
with such a stark difference in numbers, it was safe to assume the loser was a grade A slut with no sort of moral compass when it came to the self respect of him or his nighttime partners.Â
prior to this very moment, satoru had no issue with these stats. the white haired freak knew where he stood with dating, and that was in the furthest corner away from the subject. nothing was able to change his mind on this whole debacle either, his whorish practices were pretty much set in stone and heâd thought it would stay like that until the day he died (or in the odd event in which heâd turn 40 and want to marry. very unlikely with the kinds of risks he took, but still.)Â
so, each time a girl tried to become anything more than a quick hook up on the weekend, heâd turn them down almost as soon as the words left their mouths. politely, of course, but rejection all hurts the same.Â
dating and satoru gojo? that was one big red no no.Â
that was, until heâd caught a fleeting, glorious glimpse of you.Â
for reasons unknown to anyone heâd fallen head over heels the second his blue eyes had landed on you one night at a sorority mixer. you just looked so different to his usual spectacle when it came to these stuffy parties. you looked like those girls you see once in a lifetime in the city and think about every day from that point on.Â
âwho the fuck is that.â he jabs his best friend suguruâs torso, jutting out his chin to point at you from across the room.Â
suguru lifts his head and stares intensely, squinting his purple eyes. ânah i canât see shit, man. need my glasses.â suguru huffs a laugh, and satoru groans.Â
âoh, for godâs sake.â the lanky man curses and fishes around in his pocket for a second, then pulls loose his own reading glasses smacking them onto getoâs face.Â
âahh, i see,âÂ
âyeah well, now yâ do.â satoru rolls his eyes with a small scoff. âwhatâs her name?âÂ
âthatâs [name], sheâs in my course actually.âÂ
âshit, she does art?âÂ
âmhm, really good at it too. kinda jealous, i canât lie.â the raven haired man nods.Â
suguru starts rambling on about art shit and satoru stops paying attention at that point like he always does when his friend gets into the whole âart kidâ spiel.Â
âright, sounds tough, man. do you have her instagram or somethinâ?â he brushes suguru off, trying to make it seem as if he couldnât care less despite hanging off of suguruâs answer.Â
suguru messes around with the app before saying, âmhm, here yâ go.â he holds up his phone displaying a very pretty looking account, and satoru snatches up the cell.Â
âthanks, man.âÂ
and thatâs when the obsession properly began.Â
after looking through your instagram that night, heâd decided you were everything heâd ever wanted and more. you were kind, which was evident in the various charity events you attended with your friends, a quality satoru adored. you loved animals, which was telling from the multiple cat/dog pictures on your year dump highlights, and you had style that rivaled the cool people he always saw lurking around the fashion block. you were so interesting, and he feared you might be the only person heâd let out swag him.Â
you were complete perfection.Â
was that really weird to assume after seeing someone once and stalking their social media? yeah, yeah it was. but guys like gojo seriously couldnât care less.Â
over the next two weeks gojo spent around half an hour a day waiting outside getoâs art class after physics to âwalk him back to the frat,â when really, the brain dead loser was very unstealthily looking for you.Â
âthis is your big plan to get some? jeez man. give it a rest.â a very bored suguru sighed after around the fifth time gojoâd pulled this.Â
âwhatever are you talking about? mâ just being a good friend.â he answered, still unsubtly looking over his shoulder to watch you walking the opposite way back to your dorm, dressed in the prettiest little outfit.Â
âyouâve made me walk home drunk for an hour because you couldnât be bothered picking me up from a bar.. youâre the furthest thing from a âgood frieââÂ
ââdo you ever shut up? god, let me be a changed man.â he half heartedly shot back, peeling his head around when you finally fall just out of sight.Â
âgod, i hate you.â suguru sighs.
ânuh uh.âÂ
âjust ask her for her number!âÂ
ânuh uh.âÂ
and he didnât, but not because he didnât want to necessarily, but because he just couldnât.. he got this weird anxious feeling deep down in his gut whenever he told himself heâd try, and gojo was someone very foreign to anxiety. guy could strip naked and go streaking in the streets, but when it came to either sending you a message on instagram or walking up to you to get your number? he just couldnât do it. it was way, way out of the equation.Â
he felt like a shy high school girl who had a thing for one of the athletic jocks, a match that was legitimately the other way around.Â
âsugu, tell me more about that chick.â he falls down onto the couch next to his all-but fed-up-friend another time.Â
âthe chick iâve already told you every single detail i know about? yeah, no. you wanna know more? go talk to her yourself, pussy.â the man scoffs while flicking through some textbook and jotting down notes and annotations in his skrtch pad.Â
gojo sighs and gives up, throwing his head back like a child. suguru was right, heâd already picked his brain as much as a brain could be picked. what you did in class, who you hung out with, what kinda music you liked, where you worked. all things heâd then gone to study extensively.Â
as heâs busy wallowing in self pity at the fact heâd probably never get to speak to you, his eye catches the front cover of the textbook geto was cradling, a colourful abstracted painterâs palette on a white background titled, âart, second edition. a visual history.âÂ
âthat a new thing youâre studying? havenât seen you with that book before.âÂ
geto could say all he wanted about gojo and his less than stellar friendship qualities, but he had to admit the idiot was observant.Â
âmhm, got it new from the professor last week, everyoneâs been studying âem like crazy for our upcoming exam.âÂ
hm.Â
the next time satoruâs strolling through the university after basketball practice all sweaty and gross, the man stumbles over something and almost trips face first into the grass.Â
âah, fuck.â he mutters, steadying himself on a big tree beside him, flinging his head around so fast youâd think heâd get whiplash.Â
over his shoulder, he spots the cause of his little trip, a thick looking book lying face down in the lush blades of green.Â
he leans down to pick the thing up, wiping dirt off the cover before something clicks in his head.
art, second edition. a visual history. what geto was studying?Â
he flicks through the pages, eventually landing on the front, which had a crisp log chart signed with just one name.Â
[name] [last name], womenâs dorm: 4Â
fucking jackpot.Â
youâre sat around your dorm just chilling out and painting when you hear three raps on your door.
knock knock knock.Â
visitors right now? weird.Â
you drop your brush into the water jar beside you, slip out from your desk, and fiddle with the knob pulling it back just to be met with the frattiest guy you think youâd ever seen.Â
heâs tall, got tousled white hair topped with a backwards baseball cap, a tight white wife beater stretched around his chest, baggy skater jeans, jordan 4s, and simple silver jewelery littering his wrists, fingers, and neck.Â
yikes, what did he want with you?Â
âuh, hey. do yâ need anything?â you ask semi shyly, wiping your face which leaves a small streak of purple paint on your cheek.Â
the big speech he had planned, the chivalrous toothy smile he had hidden behind his lips, both absolutely nowhere to be seen.Â
this dummy canât even reply. he just stands there staring at you like some poor excuse for a serial killer.Â
âuhm...â you start to close the door comically slow, waiting for some sort of answer before the hinges on the door form a 180 and the lock clicks into place.Â
satoru is still as stone, mental warfare exploding in his pea sized brain.Â
fucking say something, satoru!Â
âhi!âÂ
hi? fucking hi?Â
âyeah, hi?â you reply, clearly growing more uncomfortable as this horribly cringe situation draws out.Â
you watch as the mysterious man takes in a deep breath before putting forth his arm. in his grasp sits the art history textbook you were sure you left with utahime.Â
âoh! thank you so much.â you nod, taking it from his hand only to be left tugging on it... the guy wouldnât let go!Â
âso can i... like, can i have it?â you deadpan, pulling on it again. the man lets go and pulls a hand down his chin in a clearly embarrassed fashion.Â
satoru gojo wanted to die. he was sure as hell the demon lord was out to get him because what the actual fuck was he doing?Â
lock in, satoru, you can do this. lock in. he reels in his brain, resorting to pep talks. he really was pathetic.Â
another deep breath later and you finally manage to hear something coherent come from this tall weirdos mouth.Â
âgod, mâ really sorry. must be the weather,, huh?â he awkwardly laughs, rubbing the back of his neck while swaying back and forth on his feet nervously. what was becoming more and more obvious for satoru was that while he could swoon ladies into bed, itâd seem talking to them without intent to fuck was a little more difficult than heâd presumed..Â
âyep, must be the weather.â you purse your lips, trying your best not to cackle at the movie like awkwardness of all this.Â
but you canât help it... you start laughing right in this guyâs face.Â
and if this wasnât already going bad, gojo feels the heat in his cheeks triple when he hears that noise. beautiful, but definitely directed at him. and before he knows it, heâs laughing right along with you.Â
âah, jeez. i really am sorry.â he chuckles softly. âi really donât know what iâm doing right now.â he admits, and like the angel you are, you just nod.Â
âyeah, i can tell. who even are you? where did you find this?â you smile up at him. heâd better be thankful you were so laid back, any other girl would probably call the cops on an interaction like this.Â
he laughs once more, âmy nameâs satoru, and uhm... itâs kind of a long story?â he rubs his neck again, peering down at you with a bashful look.Â
âyeah? well iâve got the rest of the afternoon. wanna come inside? iâll make you tea or something. a reward for returning my book. without this thing iâm cooked for my history exam.â you look to him for an answer.Â
what was it they said? all bad things come to an end or something?Â
âi would love to.â the usually cocky guy smiles, feeling even more flushed than before.Â
and with that, heâs being led inside a girlâs dorm, and not just any girlâs dorm, a girl heâs been plotting on for a good three weeks.Â
not for sex, for tea.
hey, progress is progress!Â
you sit him down on your small couch and he gawks at your room, heâd just entered every art kidâs dream studio.Â
there were canvases stood up against every free wall, all shapes and sizes. you had blocks of wet clay and half finished sculptures sat in one corner, and a wall full of free hanging tubes of paint, every colour of the rainbow and their many accompanying hues.Â
he already thought you were cool, but this took it to the next level.Â
âyou like?â he hears you ask from the small kitchenette.Â
âhell yeah, your dorm is cool as fuck. my friend suguru would die for a setup like this.â he nods, watching fondly as you place one cup of tea in front of him on the coffee table. he never drinks tea, but if it was you offering, he thinks heâd drink sewer water. he takes a sip and pretends like the near boiling temperature didnât just scorch his entire throat all nonchalantly.Â
âsuguru, huh? i know him. heâs in my class.â you nod, sitting beside him with your own cup.Â
every ounce of confidence heâd worked up since that little blip at your door dissipated as soon as your butt hit the couch. damn you art majors and your lack of conservation, he thinks, remembering when him and suguru first met and the man had quite literally bear hugged him and decied they were best friends that night because satoru had a ânice vibe.â heâs sure the man regrets that now, but thatâs beside the point.Â
âso, gonna tell me about my book? make it a good story, too.â you turn to face him, lounging back so effortlessly as you sip at your tea, waiting for the boy to start talking.Â
he nods, sipping at his drink before clearing his throat. now was his time to swoon you, he could do this...
...do this he did not. in fact, he wouldnât be surprised if you were to kick him out for being a stalker right then and there.Â
instead of making up some cool, amazing story as to how he found out who you were and where he got the book, heâd spilled the beans on his little crush on you.Â
every. little. detail.Â
from the instagram to his ill intended walks home with geto, from the countless questions to him almost eating shit tripping over your book. satoru had put it alllll out into the open.Â
and yet, to his surprise you werenât staring at him like heâd killed your puppy, your hand wasnât inching to grab your phone and dial 000, you were laughing. again.
that sweet sound heâd heard before now back in full force as he sits there mortified at the atrocities that spewed from his lips just moments ago.Â
and just like before, he joins in.Â
between heaves youâre able to get out a sentence. âso youâre telling me youâve seen me at a party, stalked my instagram, decided you were in love with me, watched out for me after every single art class, and annoyed poor geto every day for nitpicks on me?âÂ
heâs shyly smiling, trying to let go of his embarrassment as best he could. âthatâs uh... thatâs pretty much it, yeah.â he cringes, nodding slowly as another puff of laughter comes from your throat.Â
âand you just so happen to stumble across my book on campus? yâknow what that sounds like to me?âÂ
âuh? what?âÂ
âfate.â you smile.
now it was his turn to huff out a laugh.Â
âyou believe in that shit?âÂ
âyou donât?â you retort.
that makes him think. the chronological stages of events were particularly convenient, and heâd fallen upon your book just when he was starting to give up hope...
âi guess youâre right.âÂ
âyeah, well iâm always right.âÂ
âthat so?â he chuckles. somehow, in the half an hour in which heâs gotten to speak with you, heâd never felt more joy come out of a conversation and fill him with a sense of life.
you were just so calm. not only did you hear him out after that terrible first impression, but here you were serving him tea in your unfairly cool dorm in unfairly cool mugs with your unfairly cool composition.Â
âso, if fate wants us to meet so badly, how about we meet again?â you riddle, interrupting his thoughts and causing his eyebrows to shoot up.Â
did you just.. did she just ask me out?Â
he thinks he could die happy right here in this very moment. take me god, i'm ready.
âlike... like on aââÂ
ââon a date. iâd like to meet you again, satoru. youâre kind of a weird freak.. but i like it.â you smile, offering him a wink as you sip your tea again.Â
a weird freak.. the most degrading comment anyoneâs ever been brave enough to give him, and instead he takes it as the biggest compliment in the history of compliments.Â
âi would love to go out on a date with you.âÂ
âi know.âÂ
âdo you just?âÂ
âtold you, i know everything.âÂ
he laughs once more, shaking his head and looking down at his cup. as he looks back up, he notices the smudge of purple paint still there form before, and with a big surge of confidence he pulls his finger over the mark to wipe it away.
he watches as your eyes go all soft, your lips turning up into a very fond smile. "well, you're definitely cute. i'll give you that."
and the blush he thought he'd got rid of came back just as quick, painting his face in a light pink as he smiles back.
satoru gojo, a guy who once scoffed at the idea of dating was here blushing over a girl calling him cute.. living proof that someone can change for the right kind of person, and he was prepared to make all the sacrifices in the world if it meant seeing that beautiful smile permanently painted on your pretty face.
slept with: 47Â
dated: 1
a/n i love and hate this guy he's so fun to write but i can't help but make him a pathetic loser </3
Š 2026 sixxels. All work belongs to @sixxels Do NOT repost, modify, translate to another language, or plagiarise in any way on ANY platform.
to the one who dares deny me her presence, you left without permission. return at once.
your lord, ryomen sukuna.
the third letter, arrives in a much longer scroll.
how troublesome. you forget yourself, woman. there is no place you may go that is beyond my reach. had i wished it, you would have been returned to my side before nightfall. consider it generosity that you were not. do not ignore my scrolls.
your lord, ryomen.
the fourth letter,
since i cannot imagine there is much in those lands to interest you, i can only suppose your continued absence is due to your ever prolonging distaste with me.
i urge you: come be angry at a nearer distance.
your husband, R.S.
the fifth letter,
you are in no mood for games. very well. i am in no mood for them, either.
let me say it outright: there are moments brief, and increasingly frequent in which i reach for you without thought. this displeases me, i am not accustomed to such absence from you, nor restraint.
you have forced both upon me.
come home and shout at me. come home and fight with me. come home and break my heart, if you must. it has become yours only to break. just come home.
your husband, sukuna.
the next letter,
not even responding to my missives is ridiculous and beneath you and i hate it.
atleast inform me of your health.
ryomen sukuna
and then finally, your reply,
stop writing to me, at once. my wedded lord you have trespassed much and caused me such nuisance, it is quite enough now.
i am well. but do not pretend as if you may not already know that. you think i am not aware of my new ladyâs maid keeping an eye on me, certainly appointed to report back to you?
consider it my generosity that i let her stay, and consider it my ignorance towards your repetitive letters for my lack of response.
if i receive any such scroll from you, i shall burn it.
signed, yours.
and his response,
surely if your lovely eyes may not grace my lowly epistles, then i shall speak freely.
to my most willful wife, you command me to cease, and yet you write at length. i had not realized i occupied you so thoroughly. as for your ladyâs maid, you give me too much credit. if she watches you, it is because you are worth watching. i would hardly entrust such a task to another. although i cannot speak for what ways uraume employs to inform me on your health..
i have been told it is unbecoming to repeat oneself so, i will not ask you to return again. you may remain where you are, in whatever peace you have convinced yourself you prefer. i will not contest it.
and yet, i find myself wondering: why you will not come back of your own accord. have you no consideration, for your neglected husband?
the hand you force, your husband.
to my most theatric husband, you mistake response for preoccupation. do not flatter yourself, i write only to correct what you insist on misunderstanding.
as for being âworth watching,â you dress surveillance in pretty language, you always had a knack for that. for such sweet talk will not work on me, do not expect gratitude for it.
if your husband is neglected, perhaps he should consider why.
signed, your wife, unfortunately.
to my most contrary wife, âunfortunately,â and yet you take such care to sign it. i wonder if your hand hesitated at all.
as for your refusal of gratitude, keep it, i did not ask for it. you suggest your husband reflect on his neglect. i have. thoroughly. i apologize for everything, end this torment for me wife, for i can bear it no longer.
you insist my words hold no effect on you now. how curious, has distance made you bold, or merely forgetful? i recall a time not long past, when your resolve was far less reliable. how easily it would slip from you, how quickly your protests would soften when i would indulge you, a little more closely. đđ¸
have you truly forgotten? or are you simply daring me to remind you?
very well. do not worry, i will remind you, not behind these papers this time. consider that a courtesy, one last chance to brace yourself or do you prefer to test me?
i would find it entertaining, either way.
your lord and husband, R.S.
my lord, you are most unfair!
do not be naughty, ryomen. i warn you, what you speak of this âreminderâ it is highly improper. and what if someone else were to see it? consider your poor wifeâs reputation!
your teasing is relentless, and i am most vexed. you threaten of your arrival, yet remain absent, perhaps one day, your threats will find action..though i dare not hope it too loudly.
if you intend to test my resolve, i suggest you waste no more time. come, then, and take me with you, lest i change my mind.
apology accepted, your wife.
a shorter note, in refined handwriting,
lord ryomen sukuna will be arriving soon.
his subject, uraume.
firefly; this is probably my first fic where i have worked SO hard on formatting it, i hope you guys enjoy âŕ˝´Í â
inspo: by cardanâs letters to jude from the folk of the air series.
