Federation High Marshall Caleb and Imperial Grand General Zayne x Empress!reader. Smut.
In the velvet-shrouded sanctum of your imperial bed chambers, where candle flames flickered like forbidden whispers and the air thickened with the heady incense of jasmine and raw desire, you reclined upon the silken sheets of your throne-like bed. As Empress, you wielded power over stars and empires, but here, in this realm of shadowed indulgence, you ruled over your two mightiest commanders.
Federation High Marshall Caleb and Imperial Grand General Zayne knelt before you, stripped bare save for the gleaming leather collars encircling their throats. Silver chains trailed from those symbols of submission, pooling in your palm like liquid moonlight, binding them as your devoted slaves, their battle-forged bodies now instruments tuned solely to your pleasure.
Caleb's stormy nebula gaze burned with feral hunger, his rugged frame taut, his thick cock already straining upward, veins pulsing with need, a bead of pre-cum glistening at the tip like dew on steel. Beside him, Zayne's lithe, scarred form radiated calculated intensity, his long shaft curving elegantly, twitching as if aching to bury itself in your heat. They were conquerors of worlds by day, but tonight, they were your eager fucktoys, your collared pets, desperate to bury their faces in your cunt and pound you senseless until you screamed.
"My Empress," Caleb rasped, his voice a gravelly thunder as he crawled forward on hands and knees, muscles rippling like waves under his skin. "We crave to worship you. Let us drown in your sweet cunt."
Zayne inched closer, his chain whispering against the floor, his fingers brushing your calf with a feather-light touch that sent sparks racing up your thigh. "Command us, liege," he murmured, his tone smooth as obsidian silk. "We'll ravage you with tongues and cocks until you're trembling and soaked."
With a languid tug on their leashes, you drew them onto the bed, the mattress yielding under their weight like a sigh. "Undress me, slaves," you purred, your voice laced with imperial authority and sultry promise. "Then make me forget the weight of the crown. Devour me until I'm dripping for you."
They moved in harmonious predation, Caleb's strong hands parting your robe with deliberate slowness, exposing the swell of your breasts and the glistening folds between your legs. He leaned in, inhaling deeply enough to make his eyes roll back, before his mouth descended, placing hot, insistent kisses up your inner thigh, his stubble grazing your sensitive skin like a teasing scourge. "You smell divine, like forbidden nectar," he growled, his tongue finally delving into your pussy, lapping broad and deep, savoring your syrupy slick with obscene slurps that echoed through the chamber.
Zayne captured your lips in a deep, possessive kiss, his tongue thrusting with rhythmic precision, mimicking the fuck he yearned to give. His elegant fingers cupped your breast, thumb circling your nipple until it hardened into a peak, then pinching just enough to draw a gasp. "Open wider for us," he whispered against your mouth, his hand sliding down to join Caleb's. Together, their fingers invaded your wet cunt, two from each, stretching you deliciously, scissoring and curling in a sensual rhythm that built like a gathering storm. "Feel how we claim this tight little hole, Empress. We're going to fuck it until you're pleased."
You arched into their touch, a throaty moan escaping as Caleb's lips sealed around your clit, sucking with fervent pulls that sent jolts of ecstasy through your needy core. His tongue flicked relentlessly, while Zayne's mouth trailed fire down your neck, nipping and soothing, his free hand kneading your other breast with possessive squeezes. Their fingers pumped in unison, juices squelching wetly, hitting that spongy spot inside you that made your walls flutter and clench.
"Both of youâ together now," you commanded breathlessly, fisting their hair and guiding their heads lower, their collars jingling like erotic bells.
They complied with zealous obedience, their tongues entwining in a filthy dance over your dripping slit. Caleb's broad strokes devoured your labia, lapping up your essence with hungry growls, while Zayne's precise flicks teased your clit, circling and sucking until it throbbed. Their mouths brushed in the heat of their shared worship, lips slick with your arousal, the air filled with wet smacks and their muffled praises."Taste so fucking good," Caleb muttered, slipping his tongue lower to rim your asshole teasingly, his thumb circling and pressing in gently alongside Zayne's fingers that joined to probe and stretch the tight ring, prepping you casually for what was to come. Zayne added, "Come for us, drench our faces with your royal cum.â
The climax coiled and shattered, your pussy spasming in waves of bliss, squirting hotly onto their tongues. They drank you greedily, lapping every drop with reverent hunger, their cocks leaking in anticipation as your body trembled in aftershocks.
But desire burned brighter still. "On your backs, my pets," you ordered, voice husky with command. They obeyed, lying prone, their erections standing proudâ Caleb's fat and veiny, Zayne's sleek and curved for depth.
You straddled Caleb first, sinking onto his thick cock with a languid roll of your hips, feeling him stretch you inch by glorious inch until he was buried balls-deep, your pussy clenching around his girth. "Fuck, you're so full inside me," you moaned, riding him slowly at first, then harder, your breasts bouncing with each descent.
Zayne positioned himself behind, his hands caressing your back before spitting on his length and pressing against your ass. "Let me fill you completely," he hissed, easing in with controlled thrusts, the burn blooming into exquisite fullness as their cocks rubbed through the thin barrier, creating a symphony of friction.
They moved in perfect tandemâ Caleb's powerful hips slamming upward into your cunt with raw force, Zayne's fluid strokes reaming your ass with elegant precision. The room resonated with the lewd slaps of skin, your shared moans weaving a tapestry of filth and sensuality. "Take our cocks, Empress," Caleb grunted, his hands gripping your thighs bruisingly. "Milk us dry with that greedy pussy and ass."
Zayne's fingers found your clit, rubbing in tight circles while his other hand tangled in your hair, pulling your head back for a searing kiss. "We're yours to breed," he whispered hotly. "Gonna flood you with our hot seed until it spills from your wrecked holes."
The build was relentless, their thrusts syncing to drive you higher, bodies slick with sweat and desire. You came undone between them, your holes convulsing in ecstasy, triggering their releasesâ Caleb's thick cum erupting deep in your pussy, Zayne's pulsing ropes filling your ass. The warmth spread like liquid fire, dripping out when they withdrew gently.
They curled around you in the afterglow, tongues lazily cleaning the mess they'd made, nuzzling your skin with soft kisses. "Did we satisfy you, Empress?" they murmured in unison, eyes gleaming with sated devotion.
You tugged their collars with a wicked, satisfied smile. "Exquisitely. But the night whispers for more... and I intend to have it all.â
in a war-torn world where survival is a privilege, you never expected to become the object of a feared colonelâs obsession. but as whispers of his lost love haunt your every moment and bullets become the least of your worries, you realize that falling for him might be the most dangerous battle of all.
â⡠pairings. caleb, fem!reader
â⡠genre. heavy angst, smut, historical au, 18+
â⡠tags. colonel!caleb, nurse!reader, reader is not l&ds!mc, ooc, war times, unrequited love, profanity, violence, loveless sex, explicit smut, mentions of sexual assault (not from caleb), obsession, possessiveness, jealousy, injuries, blood, killings, death. themes contain material that are heavy and disturbingâreader discretion is advised.
â⡠notes. 8.3k wc. divider by thecutestgrotto. this is heavily inspired by my other gojo fic s.o.s and the manhwa my beloved oppressor :) couldnât stop thinking about this au for caleb that i had to just write it :âD reblogs and comments are highly appreciated!
The world above was long dead. Ruins of cities stood as monuments to a past civilization, swallowed by the aftermath of World War VI. Beneath the surface, buried in a labyrinth of steel and stone, was where the remaining humanity clung to survival. Here, Colonel Caleb was both a savior and a nightmareâa man whose presence alone sent shivers down the spines of even the most battle-hardened soldiers.
But he was not just any soldierâhe was the fleetâs best fighter pilot, a legend in the skies before the war even forced them underground. Even now, when the remnants of humanity relied on aerial supremacy to hold off their enemies, Caleb was the one they turned to. The one who led the most dangerous missions, who never failed, who returned even when others didnât.Â
You have loved him for as long as you could remember.
You were a humble nurse, stitching together broken bodies, whispering soft reassurances to the wounded. Your duty was simple yet relentless, saving as many lives as you could with the limited resources and skill at your disposal. You werenât the best, nor did you claim to be, but you were one of the few who refused to surrender to despair, even as the war bled your world dry. While others faltered under the gravity of endless suffering, you endured. And after a year of tending to fallen soldiers and civilians, you remained steadfast. You were the only one among your female colleagues who hadnât lost herself to the horrors of war.
That was how you met him.Â
Caleb was the fleetâs toughest and most formidable leader. He was unyielding and merciless to those who dared cross him. Even with his own people, he remained strict, and his resolve never wavered even in the face of devastating losses. But the night he staggered into the private ward, wounded and bleeding out, you were the first to reach him. You ensured he was cared for, your hands steady as you fought to keep him alive.Â
âYouâll make it through the night, sir.â You could still remember the desperation in your voice as you tightened the tourniquet around his broken arm, fighting to stop the bleeding. âIâll make sure of it.â
He lay there, teeth clenched, body tense with pain, every breath labored. âIf I die, I die.âÂ
âNo!â you shot back, your grip firm with determination. âNot tonight. You will live. Weâre rooting for you, sir. The people need you.â
They said falling in love during wartime was a surefire path to heartbreak. Yet, meeting Caleb, seeing beyond his striking exterior, and loving him despite the battlesâboth on the field and withinâwas a fight you willingly embraced. You surrendered yourself to him without hesitation, and in return, the hardened soldier who was weary from war found solace in you. He called you the prettiest nurse in the ward, but to him, you were far more than that. You were the one thing he never saw coming.Â
You were the apple of his eyes.Â
But, of course, the other nurses didnât take kindly to that. They resented how you had unknowingly ruined their chances with him, and even more so, how an undeniable favoritism began to surface. While they were left to sleep in rusty bunk beds, you were the one Caleb brought to his private quarters, where the sheets were soft, the air was warm, and food was abundant.
It was easy for them to judge. After all, rumors spread like wildfire about the nurse who shared the colonelâs bed. The gossip wasnât confined to just the nurses; it reached the soldiers who eyed you whenever you passed, their gazes lingering with knowing smirks as if fantasizing what their colonel saw at night. Even the older civilians bore disapproving glances whenever they saw you. Their silent verdict was clear as day. You were seen as a woman who had traded her virtue for privilege. A harlot draped in a white uniform. A disgrace hiding behind the pretense of care.
You werenât sure if Caleb knew about it, but it was impossible not to. He simply didnât care because he had an entire nation to think about. Clearing your name was the least of his concerns. And you knew it. After two years of serving as a war nurse, when night fell, you were simply the woman Caleb claimed as his. A common-law partner, nothing more. He never made promises, never told you that you were the only one in his heart. Because you werenât. That space belonged to anotherâthe woman he had truly loved. The woman he had lost to war.
His wife.
You tried. You tried to live with the ghost between you, tried to endure the way his fingers sometimes trembled against your skin, as if remembering someone else. You tried to pretend that when he held you, it was because he wanted you, not because he needed something to numb the ache inside him.
But love, when unreciprocated, was a slow and agonizing death.Â
And all you could do was live with it for as long as you were with him.
Because one day, you knew he could love you the same. And one day, when the war ends, you would be in his arms, building your life together with your kids playing freely and no longer living in fear.Â
For now, you had to endure what came your way. There are no saints in war times, and patience was a virtue at times like these.Â
The sharp scent of antiseptic filled your nose as you moved swiftly through the underground ward, checking pulses, changing dressings, and murmuring reassurances to the wounded who groaned in pain one after another. It was just another day in the relentless cycle of war, patching up soldiers only to send them back out to die.
Then you heard him.
Colonel Calebâs commanding voice felt like an alarm to everyone in the ward as he strode down the hall, flanked by his army of men. You werenât even looking, but you could picture the way they walked, with Caleb at the front, exuding effortless authority, and the others keeping pace just slightly behind him.
âThe turbine failed mid-air,â one of his officers reported. âPreliminary analysis suggests a mechanical fault. Possibly a lubrication issue in the main rotor bearings.â
âOr sabotage,â another interjected grimly.
Caleb didnât slow his steps. âHas the wreckage been recovered?â
âScouts are en route, sir. We should have an assessment within the hour.â
âToo late,â Caleb muttered. âIf they hit us now, weâll have one less bird in the sky. Reassign Squadron Echo to cover the eastern perimeter. Deploy anti-air artillery in sector four, and keep the missile launchers primed.â
âYes, sir.â
Just then, a distant explosion rumbled aboveground, rattling the dim lights overhead. You even had to hold onto one of the cabinet doors to steady yourself. A fighter jet had gone down.
âDamn it.â One of the officers pulled out a small tablet, scanning over the mission logs. âPilotâs confirmed dead. Theyâre already moving in on the wreckage. We need reinforcements at the north trench.â
Caleb barely hesitated. âSend Private Halloway to the front lines.â
âRoger that.â
His words were sharp and clinical. No emotion. Just another name spoken into a void, another body to be thrown into the fray.Â
Your hands stilled over a soldierâs bandages. Halloway. You recognized that name.
The same Halloway who had leaned a little too close when you handed him his rations. The one who had brushed a stray lock of hair from your face and smirked, murmuring something about how the battlefield could use more beauty like yours. The kind of beauty that he fantasized at night.Â
And now he was being sent to die.
A strange thrill coiled in your stomach. Caleb had heard about it. Or he might even have seen. It was a foolish and delusional thought, dangerous even, but you clung to the fact that this was surely his way of claiming you.
As his group passed, your pulse quickened. You turned slightly, letting your gaze linger on him. Tall. Unshaken. Unreachable. This was your man. He was yours and you were his.Â
You smiled as soon as he saw you, just a little, as if sharing a secret only the two of you understood.
But Caleb didnât stop. He simply looked away. His eyes remained fixed ahead, his expression unreadable, and in a matter of seconds, he was gone. Nothing more than the cold air that he often carried.Â
~~
Steam curled in the dimly lit room as you stepped out of the shower, water forming in rivulets against your skin. The underground base was always cold, but in Calebâs quarters, the warmth always stayed. Not just because he had his own luxury of a fireplace, but because the warmth also included faint traces of him in the air, in the sheets, and in the ghost of his presence.
Not that it mattered. You were just emotional because he hadnât been here in three days.
Sighing, you wrapped a towel around yourself, already resigning to another night alone. But just as you reached for your comb, the door swung open with a slow and deliberate creak.
You froze.
Caleb stood in the doorway, his uniform dusted with dirt and gunpowder. His sleeves were rolled up, veins prominent on his forearms and tension coiling in his stance. His gaze flicked over your damp skin, bare shoulders, the towel barely clinging to your body.
You let a small smile play on your lips. âYou finally remembered where your bed is?â you teased, stepping closer. âI was starting to think you found another.â
He didnât respond. Just shut the door behind him with a quiet click.
And the thick, suffocating silence stretched as he began removing his shoes. You took this moment to clear your throat. âI heard about Halloway,â you murmured, tilting your head. âPeople are saying you sent him to a death sentence.â A pause, then a knowing smile. âDid you do that for me?â
The shift was instant. And it wasnât what you pictured in your head.Â
Before you could react, Caleb was in front of you, his body pressing you back until your spine hit the cold wall. His hand gripped your jaw firmly, tilting your face up until you had no choice but to meet his eyes. They were dark, smoldering, and unreadable. This was the version of Caleb that everyone was afraid of.Â
âYou worried âbout him?â His voice had a dangerous edge lacing each word.
While you, your breath hitched, fingers curling into the towel. âN-No.âÂ
âYou think I didnât hear?â His grip on your jaw tightened just enough to make you gasp. âThe way he talked to you? The way you smiled at him? Handsome guy, isnât he?â
You denied everything he was saying. You knew one of his officers had been feeding him information, but they seemed twisted to make you out as someone you werenât. Were they trying to turn him against you? âNo, darling. Thatâs not true. In fact, I canât even stand him.âÂ
His lips curled, but there was no humor in it. âI have eyes and ears everywhere, Y/N.â He leaned in, his breath warm against your cheek. âAnd if I catch you entertaining anyone else again, I wonât just send them to die.â
A shiver ran down your spineâfear, thrill, or perhaps something darker twisting deep inside you. His warning did what it was supposed to do: to scare the hell out of you. But the most dangerous part was how much you enjoyed it all.Â
And then, before you could even form a response, he pushed you towards the bed.Â
By the time you looked back at him in surprise, he was already unbuttoning his shirt, looking at you merely as an object of his desire. âStrip off,â he growled, face rigid as ever. âThe past few days were damn stressful. Been thinkinâ of you naked all day.âÂ
And so, your nightly duties began. Caleb demanded his reward, and you were too foolishly in love that you surrendered to him without hesitation.Â
Because as unhinged as his obsession seemed, it ignited something deep within you. The thought of Caleb claiming you as his prize, something he craved at the end of each brutal day, sent the most passionate fire through your veins. That the same man who barely spared you a glance in daylight was the one who burned with desperation to have you all to himself at nighttime.
âI missed you,â you whispered as you slowly unraveled your bare body in front of him, dropping the damp towel on the floor. Not once did you break eye contact, and it was the sexiest thing you had ever experienced in your life.
As for him, he had already rid himself of his clothes. They were a pile on the floor, discarded lazily as he pinned you down. First, he went for your lips. Completely devouring, savoring your taste, and dominating every inch of your mouth. The moment his tongue connected with yours, he deepened the kissâa little too rough, too desperate that you could barely breathe.Â
âM-My love,â you gasped, the only time he allowed you to catch your breath was when he was positioning himself between your legs. And then he crashed his lips onto yours once more, enjoying how you moaned against his lips, exchanging warm breaths as he explored your mouth. The kiss was so intense that you barely noticed the feeling of his hardened member pressing against your leg. It felt huge and hard as a rock, a clear sign that he had been wanting a good release for the past few days. And you? You were crazy about it. You had seen his member plenty of times before, but nothing excited you more than feeling it inside.Â
That wasnât his agenda for now, though. He took his sweet time trailing kisses along your collarbone, leaving purple marks around your neck, before he feasted on the same breast he had been kneading for more than a minute. You could feel your back arching as your body naturally responded to his touch, with your own hand guiding him to massage your other mound. He nibbled on the nipple, sucking and licking around the nub, then moving to give the other the same amount of attention.Â
He was like a hungry beast that hadnât eaten for weeks. With the way he squeezed your tits together and running his tongue along the cleavage, you could already feel yourself dripping down there.Â
âC-Caleb.â
âHm?â He didnât pull away. Instead, he crawled down, spreading your legs apart, and eyeing the swollen lips that he was about to demolish. âWet already?âÂ
You nodded, looking down at him and watching as he pressed his fingers along the slit, sliding and circling his digits on your entrance. âMmhâthatâsâŚâÂ
âBe patient now,â he mocked, âArenât you so needy?âÂ
That was true, but how could you help it? How could you not want him inside if you could see him stroking his pulsing cock while he was using his other hand to play with your clit? Just when you thought you couldnât go crazier, he eventually sucked his digits to taste your slick, then he returned them back to your entrance, only this time, entering without warning.Â
âA-Aah!â
His fingers alone could make your legs shake, and whatever he was reaching for inside you was making you weaker by the second. You were a moaning mess under him, hands clenching on his sheets for dear life as he fingered your cunt like there was no tomorrow. It was only a matter of seconds until you disintegrated in front of himâyour legs trembling as your fluid released itself in a series of squirts.Â
Embarrassed as you may be, it was what Caleb wanted to see.Â
And he didnât let you rest before he was already positioning his crotch on your face, his hand holding his cock in place as he slapped his swollen tip against your lips. âMy turn,â he spoke in a low voice, smirking as you wrapped your shaky hand around his shaft and let your tongue swirl around his bulging pink head. You could taste the precum on his tip, licking every corner and every ridge under, from his balls back to his tip before you swallowed him entirely.Â
âFuck,â he cursed under his breath, pulling your hair as you bobbed your head on his cock, enveloping the warm walls of your mouth around his member as if you were milking him of his cum. Your eyes welled with tears as you fought the urge to gag despite feeling the tip of his cock repeatedly hitting your throat. Each and every moan he released made you more determined to please him, to be called a good girl, to be wanted.Â
You could feel it. With how his cock was twitching inside your mouth, he was about to explode. But he didnât let it happen. Everything happened in a span of a second when he pulled his member from your mouth before opening your core and slamming his cock into your pussy.Â
His thick, hard cock stretched you open without mercy. And he didnât slow down or savor the time. He was ramming into you, hands holding your hips in place while your tits bounced wildly. Calebâs sweat was starting to trickle along his toned upper body, his abs now glistening as he continued to pound into you endlessly.Â
âIâd fuck you everyday like this if I can,â he grunted, each word came out raspy. âYou like that?âÂ
âY-Yes! A-Aaah!â You struggled to form coherent words as he hit your sweetest spot at each hard thrust. âC-Caleb.âÂ
The walls were thin. But surely, the colonelâs private quarters would have some sort of soundproofing, otherwise it would be embarrassing how loud the skin-slapping and squelching noises you two were making. It didnât help that you were practically screaming as Caleb started increasing his speed as he chased his climax. Your walls were clenching around his girth, milking him of his load that he soon spurted inside of you.Â
You were in a battle of catching each otherâs breaths as he pulled out, watching his cum seep out of your cunt before he plopped on the bed next to you.Â
âTake the pill as soon as you wake up,â he ordered, laying on his back as he closed his eyes. His chest rose up and down as he eventually caught his breath.Â
But you remained a ragdoll beside him, your lower body still twitching from the intense orgasm and muscle memory. âO-Okay.âÂ
The night was supposed to end romantically. It was supposed to be you and him cuddling and declaring your love for each other, but the thought of him only using your body to relieve himself was torture to your mind. You convinced yourself it meant something more, something deeper.Â
But the hard truth was, you were only there to fill the silence.
You traced lazy circles over his bare chest, your voice soft yet full of devotion. âIâm all yours, Caleb. Only yours.â
âYeah,â he muttered, running a hand through his hair. âI know.â
~~
The next morning, the bed beside you was cold.
You reached out instinctively, your fingers brushing against the empty sheets where Caleb should have been. But there was nothingâno warmth, no lingering presence, just the stark reality that he hadnât even stayed.
But you told yourself you just had to get used to it and that Caleb would come wanting you again at night. Like he always did. And so, biting back the hollow ache in your chest, you forced yourself up, got dressed, and headed to the mess hall for breakfast.Â
The moment you stepped in, you felt it.
Eyes. Watching. Judging.
The low murmurs didnât stop as you walked past the rows of civilians, soldiers, and nurses, pretending not to notice the whispers that followed you. You kept your chin up and sat down with your tray, forcing yourself to eat the stale bread despite the tightness in your throat.
You had no illusions about what they were saying. They all thought they knew what you were or what you did. Calebâs woman. His plaything. And after last night, they had even more reason to talk.
But you had work to do.
By midday, you were back in the ward, slipping into your role as if nothing had changed. Patients needed tending to, and you werenât about to let their petty gossip stop you.
At least there was something to occupy yourself with. They brought in a new soldier to the base, barely back from the front lines if you could add. His face was gaunt, sunken with pain, sweat beading on his forehead as he lay on the cot. His leg was in ruinsâshattered bones, torn muscle, the kind of injury that didnât fully heal in wartime.Â
You approached him carefully, offering a calm, practiced smile. âIâm here to helpââ
His reaction was instant. It was as though you were the trigger to a ticking time bomb. His eyes, bloodshot and wild, snapped to you, and before you could blink, his hands already shot out, grabbing at you with a strength you didnât expect.
âYouâ!â he snarled, his fingers digging into your arms, nails raking against your skin as he yanked you forward. âYou whoreâyou whore!â
You gasped, struggling against his grip, but he was fueled by pain and rage, his voice hoarse with accusation. âOw! P-Please!âÂ
âYou ruin men like us! Youâyouâget innocent soldiers sent to die!â His nails scratched at your cheek, his grip tightening as he shook you. âYouâre the reason Hallowayâs goneâ!â
The words hit like a slap, but before he could do more, hands were on him. And on you. Other soldiers rushed in, prying him off you, restraining him as he thrashed against the cot.Â
âStand down, soldier!â one barked.
You stumbled back, breath coming fast, your skin stinging where he had just scratched you.
But the worst part wasnât the pain.
It was the way the nurses across the ward just watched. Their gazes were cold, as if saying you deserved it. Not a single one had moved to help.
You couldnât understand the hostility. Couldnât fathom why people looked at you with such disdain. If it had been another woman in your place, would they have treated her the same? All you had done was love a manânothing more, nothing less. You werenât trying to hurt anyone. You simply fell in love.
But as you locked yourself in the bathroom, staring at your reflection while washing the bloody scratches from your cheek, that was when the realization struck.
They didnât respect you because Caleb never had.
Not once had he claimed you in public, never shown his affection where others could see. He had never treated you like someone worth honoring, never given you the respect you deserved. And if the leader of this war-torn world didnât respect youâwhy would anyone else?
The thought alone made your eyes well with tears, but you quickly washed them away. No. You refused to doubt. He loves me. Heâd even kill for me.
A sudden knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts. You opened it hesitantly, only to find Simone standing there. The only female soldier with a rank high enough to command real respect. At first, you assumed she was just waiting for the restroom, but the way she looked at you said otherwise.
âYou got a minute?â she asked, her tone cool and unreadable.
You hesitated before nodding. âYeah⌠sure.â
~~
The storage room was cold and dimly lit by the single flickering bulb overhead. Dust clung to the forgotten crates, and the faint scent of metal and oil lingered in the air. Hardly anyone came here as it was a place for old supplies and broken equipment, not whispered conversations.
And yet, here you were, in the only room without surveillance.Â
Simone leaned against one of the crates, arms crossed as he narrowed her eyes at you. âYou need to end things with Caleb.â
You stiffened instantly. âExcuse me?âÂ
She sighed, rubbing her temples as if she had already anticipated your reaction. âThis thing between you and him, you know it isnât healthy. Not for you. Not for him.â
You scoffed. Who does she think she is? âYou donât know anything about us.â
âI know more than you think,â she shot back. âI know what kind of man Caleb is. What heâs become.â
You folded your arms, defensive. âI donât know what youâre talking about. All I know is that he cares about me.â
âCares about you?â Simone let out a humorless chuckle. âDo you even know what heâs done? How many men heâs killed just for looking at you?â
Your lips parted, but no words came out.
âFive soldiers. And counting,â she continued coldly. âSome he sent straight to the gas chambers. Others? He had them tortured in ways I wouldnât even wish on our enemies. And all because they made the mistake of mentioning how beautiful you are.â
You felt the blood drain from your face. âB-But thatâs because he wants to protect me. Thatâs just how he loves.â
Simone watched you carefully before she sighed again, her voice softening this time. âThis isnât love, Y/N. You donât know Caleb⌠I donât even know if heâs capable of loving again.â
What does she mean?
âHe wasnât always like this,â she continued, almost nostalgic as if he had seen another version of Caleb that you hadnât. âBefore the war. Before his wife died. He was kind. Gentle. A man who knew the difference between power and cruelty.â She hesitated, then admitted, âShe was my colleague. And my friend. Calebâs childhood sweetheart, his true love, and his whole life. He loved her sincerely, so much so that he was fighting to make the world better for her. Not destroy it. But seeing him right now, she wouldâve hated what heâs become.â
Your hands clenched into fists at your sides. Everything she had just mentioned shot a bullet straight to your heart, but you refused to let it kill you. You refused, denied. No!Â
âYou canât replace her,â Simone added, her words cutting through you like a knife. âNo matter how much you try. So I suggest you leave him before it destroys you.â
~~
The door to Calebâs private quarters slammed open as you stormed inside, your blood boiling, your mind a haze of rage and betrayal. You couldnât stop Simoneâs words from echoing in your head even if you tried hard enough. You canât replace her. Sheâs his true love. His whole life.Â
âNo.â Adamantly did you shake your head. âStop.âÂ
He loved her sincerely. And still does.Â
Your breath came in ragged gasps as you yanked at the blankets, overturned chairs, kicked over the table. The frustration inside you was begging to be released, and destruction was the only thing that made sense. How could you get extremely jealous over a dead person? You laughed in your head. She was dead. She was gone. Good for her. But despite the constant reminder to yourself that the woman you were jealous of didnât exist anymore, you knew that you could never erase the fact that you would still never amount to her. And you hated it. You hated her!Â
In your rage, you didnât even realize you had grabbed one of his jackets from the pile of discarded uniforms until something tumbled out of the pocket.
A necklace.
It landed with a soft metallic clink against the floor. It was a simple chain, worn with age, with two wedding bands strung together. Your stomach twisted as you picked it up, seeing the engraving was delicate but unmistakable. It had Calebâs name and hers.
Your hands trembled.
She was still here. She had never left. Not in his heart, not in his mind. He carried her with him, even now, even after all the ways he had made you believe you were his.
Something inside you snapped, as though you were a madwoman who had finally lost her sanity. Like Caleb always said, that âthere are no saints in wartimesâ. So, what was stopping you from going all out? She needed to be destroyed. She needed to be forgotten. In your desperation to search for more pieces of her, you lurched toward his drawers, pulling them open and shoving things aside. Your promise to never touch his things? Forgotten.
That was when you saw a wooden box, hidden beneath neatly folded uniforms.
You yanked it out, prying it open with shaking handsâonly to find it stuffed with letters. Some yellowed with time, others crisp as if he had reread them over and over. Her handwriting. Her words. Her love, immortalized in ink.
My Dearest Caleb,
If I close my eyes, I can still see you standing on the shoreline, hands in your pockets, pretending youâre not waiting for me. But I always knew. You were never good at hiding how much you loved me.
Are you eating well? Have you been sleeping? I know youâll lie if I ask you in person, but in a letter, you canât hide from me. And I worry, darling. I always do.
I miss the way you hold me before you leave. I miss the way you kiss my hair, thinking I donât notice how long you linger there. I miss the way you look at me like Iâm the only thing in this world worth coming back to.
Sometimes I wonder⌠do you know how much I love you? Do you feel it, even when weâre apart? I hope you do. I hope itâs enough to keep you warm when the nights are cold, to keep you safe when danger is near.
Come back to me soon, my love. The house is too quiet without you. And when you do, Iâll be right here, waiting. Just like always.
Forever yours,
Your wife
A strangled sob tore from your throat.
You didnât think. You couldnât. You just couldnât.Â
Through hot tears and reckless fury, you grabbed the box and flung it into the fireplace without regard. All her letters spilled out, each and every one of them catching flame within seconds. And you didnât hesitate to throw the necklace soon after, letting it vanish into the fire with a dull shimmer.
You stood there, watching the flames devour every trace of her. Of them.
âYouâre gone,â you let out a mirthless laugh, wiping the tears that followed after. âYouâre gone! Leave him alone!âÂ
Your entire body trembled at the thought, your chest undulating in heavy breaths. Then, as if realizing what you had done, you collapsed onto the floor, staring blankly at the fire.
The anger was gone.
Replaced by the terrifying thought of what Caleb would do when he came home.Â
~~
The FY-26 cut through the sky like a phantom with its sleek titanium frame reflecting the nautical glow of the setting sun. It was the most powerful fighter jet in the fleet; faster, deadlier, a mechanical beast designed for war. And only one person from the DAA was given the honor to pilot it.Â
Caleb gripped the throttle, voice steady as he spoke into his comms. âSpecter-01 to Specter-02, enemy reconnaissance spotted at 2 oâclock, altitude 15,000 feet. Adjust trajectory and prepare for engagement.â
âCopy that, Specter-01,â came the reply of his fellow fighter pilot. âVisual confirmed. Awaiting further orders.â
Calebâs gaze flicked to the horizon, where a lone aircraft hovered in the distance. He could hear the chatter of enemy comms scrambling to react, but for a moment, his focus drifted.
Below him, a small, crescent-shaped island came into view. His grip on the controls instantly tightened.
He knew this place.
The memory surfaced like a ghost from another lifeâof a time when war wasnât all he knew. When he had taken her here, flying low so she could see the crystalline waves shimmering under the sun. He had told her to look down, to read the words he had carved into the sand earlier in the day.
"Will you marry me?"
He could still hear her laughter, the way it had crackled through the radio before she screamed yes over the comms, her excitement drowning out all other noise. His adorable pipsqueak. Her beautiful smile, her sparkling eyesâŚÂ
Caleb exhaled sharply, forcing himself back into the present. âI miss you, my love.â
That was a lifetime ago. She was a lifetime ago.
His eyes darkened as he thought of his new realityâyou. You werenât her. Not in the way you spoke, the way you carried yourself, the way you looked at him with that foolish devotion. But maybe⌠maybe he should stop pretending that it mattered.
Maybe he should just settle with what he had left.
You were still there waiting for him. A woman who, despite all odds, loved him with reckless abandon. The same woman who cried on the night he was on his deathbed, doing everything in her might to make sure he lived. And though he could never give you what he once gave another, he knew youâd still smile, even just from the smallest things.
A glance. A touch. A mere kiss from him, and your entire world lit up.
His hands flexed against the controls.
âSpecter-02, engage the target. Iâm circling back to base.â
Because tonight, maybe heâd give you something to smile about.
~~
The moment Caleb stepped into his quarters, he could tell something was wrong.
The air alone was thick with the acrid scent of smoke, an unusual warmth persisting as dying embers crackled weakly in the fireplace. His gaze swept over the roomâfurniture askew, drawers flung open, papers and personal belongings scattered across the floor. His gut twisted. It was like a crime scene. Like something vital had been gutted from this space.
Then, his eyes landed on you.
Curled up on the floor, body trembling, and your arms wrapped around yourself like a feeble shield. Your shoulders shook through stifled sobs, but the moment your tear-streaked face lifted to meet his gaze, everything inside him snapped.
His heart slammed against his ribs, a foreign pressure crushing his chest as his vision tunneled straight to the fireplace.
No. No, no, no, no!
It was as if his vision blurred, as if there was a deafening ringing overtaking his ears as he stormed forward, shoving past the mess to get to the source of his rage. The flames had long since died, leaving behind nothing but fragile wisps of ash. But even in its destruction, he recognized what it used to be.
Burned letters.
A melted necklace, the twisted remains of two rings fused together.
The last pieces of her.
His wife.
His breath left him in a sharp, ragged exhale, his lungs refusing to pull in air as scorching rage flooded every nerve in his body.
âYou,â he seethed. Your name didnât even make it past his lips. The word was a knife, laced with something lethal, something beyond fury. His boots pounded against the wooden floor as he closed the distance between you, fists clenched so tightly his knuckles went white. âIâd fucking kill you! What the fuck have you done?!â
You flinched, your body recoiling as if his voice had physically struck you. âCalebââ
âShut up!â His hand shot out, gripping your arm down to the bone, yanking you up with enough force that your legs nearly gave out beneath you. âDo you have any fucking idea what you just did?âÂ
âIâI didnât mean to⌠I wasnât thinking straightââ you choked out, shaking your head frantically, eyes wide with panic.
âDidnât mean to?â He let out a sharp, humorless laugh, the sound so devoid of warmth it sent chills down your spine. Before you could react, he was already shoving you back against the nearest wall, his arms caging you in, his breath hot with rage as it fanned against your skin. His eyes were cold, piercing, murderous, menacing.
âYou burned her letters, our rings,â he said, each syllable aiming to intimidate you. âDestroyed the only damn thing I had left of her! And for what?!â
Tears spilled down your cheeks as you tried to shake your head, tried to explain, but your throat was too tight, your breath too uneven. Calebâs gaze alone was enough to make your entire body tremble. But you had to try. âI was hurt, Caleb,â you finally sobbed, the words tumbling out like a plea. âIâI just wanted you to forget her. I wanted you to see me!âÂ
âForget her?â His jaw clenched. His grip tightened on your wrist, the pressure just shy of bruising. âYou think you could ever replace her? You think you have any fuckinâ right to want anything from me? That you could be anything more than a pathetic substitute?â
The words sliced through you like a blade, carving through every delusion you had ever let yourself believe.
Yet⌠you had nothing left to lose.
âI love you,â you whispered, broken, desperate. âCaleb, I love you⌠Please. Iâll be everything you need. Iâll offer everything I have and more. Just⌠just forget about her.â
For a terrifying second, you thought he might actually hit you.
But then, just as fast as it came, he wrenched himself away from you, staggering back as though you were the thing poisoning him. It hurt. It hurt like hell to see the way he rid himself of you as he ran a hand through his hair, his fingers itching to wreck you.Â
â...Caleb.âÂ
â...Iâm sorry, Caleb.âÂ
â...I love you, Caleb.â
No matter how desperately you fought to win his heart, his voice remained eerily calm when he finally spoke.
âGet the hell out of my sight.â
You stood frozen, barely able to process the words. âB-Butââ
âI said GET THE FUCK OUT!â His roar thundered through the room, rattling your entire being like an insect in a heavy storm.Â
You swallowed down the sob threatening to rise up your throat, willing yourself to moveâto breatheâas you staggered toward the door. Your fingers curled around the handle, and for a split second, you let yourself hope for him to stop you. To say something. Anything.
But all he did was stare at you with a gaze so cold, so hollow, it made your heart cave in on itself.
And then, his final words were more merciless than you thought.Â
âYou wanna play with fire?â he muttered. âFine. Iâll throw you out into the front lines soon enough. See how much you really want to be a soldierâs whore.â
A strangled gasp left your lips, your vision blurring with fresh tears.
You couldnât breathe.
You couldnât think.
And for the first time since you met him, you realized that no matter how much love you poured into him, Caleb had none left to give.
~~
He stayed true to his words.Â
The front lines were nothing short of hell. Explosions tore through the sky, painting it in hues of orange and black. The ground trembled beneath relentless bombardments, screams of the wounded and dying mixing with the fusillade of gunfire. It was chaos. It was pure, unfiltered war.
And you were in the heart of it.
Thrown into the battlefield as nothing more than a discarded afterthought, yet you worked tirelessly, tending to the broken, the dying, the ones who begged for mercy even when there was nothing left to give. Blood soaked your uniform, stained your hands, and for the first time since you had arrived at this forsaken place, you realized Caleb was never coming to rescue you. That this wasnât as simple as temporary punishment where he could rescue you back to the base the moment he saw that you had already paid for your sins.Â
You had been foolish to think otherwise. Because the punishment was greater than the crime.Â
Day after day, you watched the planes soar overhead, wondering if one of them carried him. If maybe, just maybe, heâd glance down and remember you. That heâd order someone to retrieve you, to take you home.
But no one came.
Not even him.
And just when you thought it couldnât get worseâthe enemy arrived.
You barely had time to react before the camp was raided, soldiers storming in with brutal efficiency. Screams filled the airânurses, wounded soldiers, no one was spared. You tried to run, but handsâso many handsâgripped you, dragging you with them.
âNo, please!â you sobbed, thrashing, digging your heels into the dirt. âSomeone, help me!â
But the only response was the harsh, guttural laughter of the men dragging you away. You didnât understand their language, but you understood them. The way their dark, hungry eyes lusted over your trembling form. The mocking smiles curling their lips. The way they spoke to each other, like you werenât even human.
Like you were property.
One of them cupped your chin, tilting your face up with a sickening grin. âSheâll do nicely,â he murmured in a thick accent.Â
Another joined in on the amusement. âA fitting pastime for the long nights ahead.â
A fresh wave of panic crashed over you, bile rising in your throat as you began to foresee your fate in their hands. Your fate as the enemyâs new plaything.Â
âNoâNO!â you shrieked, thrashing harder, your nails clawing at their arms. âCaleb! S-Someone, please!â
But no one came.
No one ever came.
That was when your real nightmare began.
They dragged you to their camp, a place so desolate, so devoid of mercy, that it made your previous suffering look like a fleeting dream. There was no hope here. No salvation.
Just pain.
The foreign army passed you from one to the next like you were nothing more than a worn-out relic of war. Their touch was greedy, using your body at their convenience, their grip bruising as they took what they wanted. They stripped you off everything; clothes, dignity, sanity. Sanity. Where is God in all of this?
Your mind drifted, escaping to anywhere else but there. You imagined a different life, a different fate. But the pain kept pulling you back. The jeers, the mocking laughter, the cruel hands that touched every inch of your skin reminding you over and over again that there was no escaping this. You felt dirty, felt disgusted of your own flesh, felt sick that you had to wake up each day living for only one and one purpose alone.Â
You stopped counting the days.
Stopped screaming when they came for you.
You had nothing left.
Their cruelty settled deep within your bones, your spirit breaking piece by piece until all that remained was a hollow shell of who you used to be.
And the worst part?
He never came.
Caleb, the man who once whispered possessive threats in your ear, who swore no one else could have you, who claimed you as his prizeâhad abandoned you to this.
It was almost laughable. Truly spectacular.Â
As you lay on the cold, your body too battered to move, you allowed yourself to accept the truth.
He never loved you.
He never would.
~~
Before you were a war nurse, you once interned as a nurse at Akso Hospital. Life was peaceful then. Even as whispers of an impending world war grew louder, there was an unshaken belief that your nation was too powerful to fall. No one dared to wage war on the strongest nation in the world.Â
That was the world you knewâquiet, bathed in golden light. You stood in the familiar white halls of the medical facility, the place where it all began. Where you trained. Where you dreamed of making a difference.
Dr. Zayne stood before you, his crisp uniform as pristine as ever, his silver-rimmed glasses reflecting the medical abstract he had on hand. He had always been composed and steady. A true professional that you looked up to. He was the best cardiac surgeon there was, and everyone in the same field dreamed of working with him. Of becoming like him.
âYou're ready for this,â he said, adjusting his gloves. âThe war will test you, but your handsââ he reached out, taking yours in his own, running his thumb across your palmââwere meant to heal.â
You gripped his hands a little tighter. âWhat if I canât save everyone?â
He thought for a moment before letting out a quiet sigh. âYou wonât,â he agreed. âBut you will save someone. And that will always matter.â
You felt your chest tighten. âThank you for being a good mentor, Dr. Zayne. I hope to see you again someday.âÂ
The golden light around him began to fade, his figure growing distant, hazy, slipping through your fingers.
âGood luck, Y/N.â
It was the chilling air that woke you up from your dream. The icy breeze seeped into your bones, deeper than any wound, any bruise, any violation. Every inch of you ached, skin marred with purple and black, lips split and dry. Your body was no longer your own. It was something broken, something discarded.
You barely had the strength to keep your eyes open and every breath was a struggle as your ribs protested with each inhale. The faint scent of blood and sweat lingered around you, suffocating you. Killing you.
Somewhere in the distance, you heard voicesâa noise.
A sharp crack split through the air, followed by a screamâshort, cut off, wet. Then another. And another.
Gunfire.
Shouting.
The heavy thud of bodies hitting the ground.
You tried to move, but your limbs wouldnât obey. The exhaustion of everything they had done to you pinned you down. Your pulse was sluggish, your vision swimming, but you could hear itâhim. And the distinct roar of his rage. Perhaps it was your hallucination. After all, you had already lost your mind from this war.Â
But one of the soldiers outside, his voice barely rising before it was cut offâa sickening gurgle of a sound, as if something sharp had torn straight through his throat. Gunfire erupted in rapid succession, followed by panicked shouts, orders barked in a language you barely understood, only for them to be silenced just as quickly. A storm was tearing through the camp. A massacre.
Then, the door was kicked open. A figure stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the moonlight.
You held your breath.Â
The familiar combat boots. The bloodied gloves. The cold, murderous gleam of his eyes.
Caleb.
Your lips partedâhalf in disbelief, half in something uglier. Because now, after everything, after you had finally accepted that he was gone, he was here. His gaze was fixed on you, and something in his features cracked as he took in your state. Bruises. Cuts. The torn remains of your uniform that barely covered your violated body. His fingers twitched over the trigger of his gun.
Slowly, he took a step forward. And when he finally reached you, he knelt, his bloodstained hands brushing against your trembling form as if to confirm that you were real.
Why? Why now, Caleb?
You let out a broken sob, your body giving out as you collapsed into him, while his arms wrapped around you, holding you tightly and desperately.
It was for the first time since meeting him where he genuinely, unselfishly took you in his arms with fragile care. âIâm sorry. Iâm here. Iâm here now. Iâve killed every single one of âem for you,â he said in a tone so affectionate you almost wondered if it was a dream. âIâll take you home. No oneâs gonna touch you ever again. I promise.â
The irony, however, presented itself the moment Caleb touched you. Because rather than feeling a sense of relief in his own way of apologizing, a deep, all-consuming dread wrapped around your bones instead.
Because this wasnât salvation. This wasnât a rescue. This was a return to a different kind of prison.
Your battered body trembled in his grip as his presence, something you once ached for, now loomed over you like a cruel joke. You thought being hereâbeing dragged through hell, used, and discardedâwas the worst fate imaginable.
But, no.
The true horror was returning to Caleb.
Because you knew now. You finally understood. There was no future for you. Not in his arms. Not in this world. And the look in his eyes, that dangerous, unhinged gleam that he would never let you go. You were only going to submit yourself to a never ending cycle. Of pain. Of being unloved.
So before he could react, before he could drag you back into the nightmare of his possessive grasp, your trembling fingers wrapped around his gun.
His own gun. His own weapon.
For the first time, his cold, calculating gaze faltered, widening in shock as you tore it from his holster with the last of your strength. âY/Nââ
The barrel was already pressed to your temple. His hands lunged for you, fast, too fastâ
BANG!
The world stilled.
Your body swayed before a slow, almost gentle descent to the ground. Caleb caught you before you could hit the dirt, but warm blood seeped between his fingers. His hands, the same hands that had killed and destroyed, now shook as they cradled you. âNo! NOOO! Y/N!â
But it was too late.
You smiled with your red-stained lips. âYou deserve to live a life where the women you loveââ you coughed, blood bubbling at the edges of your lips as you said your last words, âleave you.â
A short comic I made inspired by Nahida's birthday event this year (literally, literally, of crumbs). Sorry for taking so long to post it, work keeps me too busy đ later I'll post the extra of this comic, I hope you like it, I really enjoy drawing my HC of these two:3
just a lighthearted drabble about Sanemi dealing with the effects of age on his body.
CW: 600 words ⢠MDNI ⢠suggestive/implied sexual content ⢠comfort ⢠fluff
Sanemi Shinazugawa strikes me as the type to retain a great deal of his strength as he ages. He takes pride in his muscles, and even after the Corps is disbanded, he keeps up his physique. After all, while the threat of demons has been purged from the earth, humans are still a fickle enemy. Best to be prepared to defend himself â and his family â at all times.
But what Sanemi is not prepared for is the impact his rigorous training has on his body as he gets older. Sure, heâs strong; always has been, always will be. Unfortunately for the former Wind Hashira, however, Sanemi is learning that reaching his forties has its consequences.
His joints, for example, are just the latest casualty.
âThe fuck do you mean I threw a hip out?â He grumbles you help him settle into your sofa with a grunt. âIâve done these exercises every day for more than twenty damn years ââ
âNot as flexible as you were in your twenties, are you?â You half-scold, half tease, wiping your hand across your damp forehead.
When youâd awoken that morning, you hadnât expected the labor of lugging your husband back inside his mansion before heâd completed his morning training.
Youâd been in the middle of preparing tea for you to share once heâd finished â a well-settled part of your routine, one you knew he looked forward to as much as you did, even now, twenty years after youâd married. Never before had this sacred ritual been disrupted until this morning, when Sanemiâs strangled yell sent the birds scattering into the sky, and the tea kettle nearly out of your hands.
Youâd hurried out into your gardens, where Sanemi maintained his sparring ring, complete with thick, wooden posts and an orderly litter of training weapons. There, sprawled across the ground, had been your husband, spitting every filthy word in his lexicon into the dirt, his hand gingerly braced atop his right hip.
In your retirement from the Demon Slayer Corps, Sanemi had been the more active one between the two of you. You regretted not keeping up with training, however, when youâd been forced to shove your shoulder under your husbandâs and half-heave, half-drag him back inside your shared estate.
Once settled, you help guide Sanemiâs right leg up onto the cushion, keeping his hip elevated. âIâll ring for Kanao or one of her girls, later.â
The Kamado family lived well over an hour away in the mountains. Had Sanemi been injured even a decade earlier, you wouldâve panicked. While you were certain the doctors in the nearby prefecture were perfectly competent, there were none you trusted more than Kanao or her daughters. Thankfully, you no longer had to rely on crows or even mail services to reach them, Sanemi having purchased a telephone a few years earlier.
To your surprise, Sanemi doesnât argue, instead turning his attention to the way you rub at the small of your back.âYou okay?â
âBetter than you,â you retort easily, forcing yourself to walk away, spine straight, into the kitchen to fetch the tea youâd prepared. Like youâd let him see how age was beginning to affect you, too. Heaven knows the kind of trouble youâd be in if both of you were down for the count, and you donât think you could survive the embarrassment of sending after one of your children for assistance.
You return a moment later with the tea tray, laden with the delicate china Sanemi had gifted to you on your wedding day. He grunts his thanks when you hand him his cup, filled halfway with his tea of choice â green â sharp and bitter, the way he liked.
You busy yourself with pouring tea for yourself. âMaybe this is your sign to ease up. Itâs perfectly normal that you canât do the same things you once could, you know.â
He deflects with a cocky, smug grin. âDonât have any trouble keepinâ up with you, darlinâ. At least, you havenât had any complaints.â
Humming, you settle into one of the great armchairs across from him. âIf memory serves me right, your knee popped rather loudly the other night.â
Heâd been thrusting hard up into you while you braced your hands against the headboard when a loud pop! had disrupted the steady rhythm of your hips. And, try as he might, your husbandâs furtive attempt at covering the sound with a loud moan hadnât been successful.
Sanemiâs cheeks redden, and he drops his gaze back to his tea, muttering under his breath. You smirk. Y/N, one; Sanemi, zero.
âGettinâ old sucks,â he sighs, blowing on the steaming liquid. âBet fuckinâ Uzui doesnât have to deal with this shit. Tomioka and I are the only ones who still train consistently.â
âYes, well, Uzui has his plate full.â
It was true; between three wives and four children, you reckon the former Sound Hashira got more than his fair share of physical activity.
You glance to your husband, then, chewing lightly on your lip. âIâm happy you have these issues, you know. These aches and pains â I think theyâre a good thing.â
Sanemi snorts, though his eyes warm when he meets your gaze across the sitting room. âYou just like seeinâ me knocked down a few pegs.â
âNot at all,â you set your tea cup on the lacquered table between you and smooth your hands over your skirt. âI like knowing youâre here to age.â
Solemnity passes over his face then, softening the irritated set of his mouth. You know, as well as he, how lucky the two of you are to be sitting here, bemoaning the woes of aging, when so many of your comrades hadnât the same fortune.
Every morning you see is a blessing; every new line appearing by your eyes or the corners of your mouths, a luxury far too many never got to indulge. No matter how inconvenient your stiffening joints or limited mobility became, you would never not be grateful.
When Sanemi finds his voice, it is hoarse with emotion. âGet over here. I wanna kiss you.â
Oh, you would love nothing more, but now that youâve sat down, you find the concept of standing up almost an impossible feat. Perhaps the two of you really are doomed.
Busted, you grin, sheepish. âCanât. My back is a little more sore than I let on.â
Sanemi groans and you laugh. âThen I stand by what I said. Gettinâ old fuckinâ sucks.â